#this is a continuation to the soft Jere ask

[drugsforaddicts]

🎥: Antti Putkonen/mulukku365

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

The part where Jeremiah’s like if I start kissing you I’m scared I won’t be able to stop or something like that! Chills

My Jeremiah stuff keeps flopping, why are you doing this to me...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Under the moonlit sky of the golf course, everyone was getting ready for bed. Steven and Taylor had gotten tablecloths and cushions from the debutante ballroom. It wasn’t as comfortable as a real bed, but it was better than sleeping on the grass. At least it was summer. And thank god it wasn’t pouring rain.

Not feeling tired yet, you decided to walk around. These past nights, your dreams have been haunted by bright blue eyes and a sweet smile, as if pressing you to make a move on Jeremiah Fisher. You shared a kiss on the boardwalk last summer and didn’t stop thinking about it all year. It was embarrassingly pathetic.

Talking about Jeremiah, you spotted him by the golf cart, folding tablecloths to make blankets. A smile curled on your lips and you walked toward him. 

‘’Hey, Jere.’’ 

‘’Hey,’’ he returned, short and dry. 

A frown drew between your eyebrows. ‘’Do you want to go inside and finish the movie?’’ 

‘’Not really. It’s kinda late.’’ He continued folding the tablecloths, completely ignoring you. 

‘’Oh. Okay.’’ You nodded, understanding. It was late. ‘’If you ever need a place to sleep tomorrow night, you can come to my house. I’m sure my parents—’’ 

‘’That’s very kind of you, but no thanks.’’ 

You lowered your eyes at the grass, watching it slip between your toes in your sandals. You were trying to be kind, but he obviously didn't want your help. 

He was still upset about the house and his aunt and dad teaming up to sell it, but there was something else. Something related to you. 

Last night, on the boardwalk, he was sweet and touchy and even gave you some of his candy he and the boys won. Now, he was a different person. Cold. Distant. It’s like he didn’t want to talk to you, to be with you.

You could only think of one thing related to you that Jeremiah could be acting strange over. 

‘’Is it because of the kiss we shared last summer?’’

You hadn't talked about it since it happened and kisses often make things awkward in friendships.

Jeremiah shook his head. ‘’It’s not that,’’ he said. ‘’I…I liked the kiss.’’ 

‘’Then why do you keep pushing me away? Since you arrived in Cousins, you’ve been so confusing. You almost hold my hand in the theater and now you push me away like I have plague. I can’t decipher those mixed signals, Jeremiah. I'm not a detective, I'm a teenage girl.’’

With a deep breath, Jeremiah looked directly into your eyes. ‘’Because when I’m alone with you, all I think about is kissing you and if I kiss you, I don’t know that I can ever stop.’’

His words hung in the air, mixing with the crickets' chirp, a confession of feelings you were not expecting to hear tonight — or ever. Your heart started beating faster in your chest, realizing that you had been wrong about Jeremiah. He wasn’t giving you mixed signals because he was playing with you, he was giving you mixed signals because he was scared of his feelings for you. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Jeremiah spoke first. 

‘’Life has been really hard these past months, but I never wanted to push you away. I wanted to call you after our kiss, I wanted to ask you on a date and hold your hand and kiss you again. But I found out about my mom and I couldn’t think about anything else,’’ he admitted, his voice soft and earnest. 

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity, but you didn’t see any. 

‘’When I saw you at Rosie’s, I was so happy.’’ A genuine soft smile tugged at his lips, thinking back to two days ago. ‘’Seeing you face to face is much better than through your instagram.’’ 

You raised an eyebrow at him. ‘’You stalked my instagram?’’ 

Jeremiah covered his face and groaned, embarrassed. ‘’Is that all you picked up?’’ 

You uncovered his face and intertwined your fingers with his. ‘’No, but it’s an interesting anecdote. I didn’t know you were the type of guy who stalked girls on social media.’’ 

‘’I’m not!’’ he defended, regretting saying that now.

‘’I know.’’ You chuckled. ‘’I’m just teasing you.’’ 

A sense of warmth and comfort enveloped the two of you, the tension that had been lingering between you dissipating. Although all of your friends were sleeping a few meters nearby, it felt like there was no one else in the world but the two of you. Especially when you looked up into his eyes. It’s so easy to get lost in their beauty and forget everything else.

Jeremiah let out a small laugh, relieved that you were taking his confession and embarrassment in good spirits. He looked down at your lips, thinking about the last time he tasted the vanilla cupcake lip gloss on them. Were you still wearing the same? It probably wore off by now, but Jeremiah was dying to know if you tasted the same. 

Taking a small breath of courage, he leaned in closer, closing the distance between you and gently pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was soft and tender, Jeremiah’s hand coming to cup your face gently while yours reached his shoulder to pull him down to your height. 

When you broke apart, you smiled against his lips, dying to kiss him again. ‘’Do you want to set your blanket next to mine?’’ you suggested, glints of hope in your eyes.

Jeremiah nodded. ‘’If that’s okay with you.’’

—

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[probably-writing-x]

When The Ball Drops

Conrad x Y/n

Summary: You and Conrad had become fast friends, and you were convincing yourself it was nothing more. But new years always brought new beginnings, right?

There were a lot of things that Conrad disliked. Pineapple on pizza, films with stupid plot twists, wearing suits when the shirt felt too tight around his neck, when his brother would get into those moods and just whinge about everything. And New Years. He hated New Years.

He’d never been the biggest fan, but it had felt a hundred times worse since his Mom had passed. The year turning to the next just felt like the continuous reminder that he was going into another chapter of his life without her in it. And as much as the firsts were coming and going - the first summer without her, the first thanksgiving, the first christmas - there was still more to come. And every new year would now be another new year where Conrad didn’t have his Mom. And that made him HATE new years.

He wanted to forget it was happening this year. He’d go to sleep at 11:50, wake up the following morning and forget that anything had changed. He’d miss the fireworks, he’d avoid the celebrations, forget the new years kisses, and simply wake up for another new day.

“Conrad Beck Fisher are you even listening to me?”

It’s your voice that breaks him from his thoughts.

He glances up from where his eyes had been focused on a single spot on the kitchen floor, turning his attention across to where you were stood on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You were spreading a thin layer of mayonnaise over the sandwich you were making for him.

“I-“ He clears his throat, “What were you saying?”

You shake your head at him and let out a soft chuckle - Conrad’s sure in that moment he’d pause and playback that exact sound just so he could hear it again.

“I was saying…”

You and him had met this past summer. Cleveland had got Conrad a job on a yacht to keep him busy over the summer to ‘take his mind off things’. You happened to have a job on that same boat working as a server. At first, Conrad had been nothing short of cold to you. He was blunt, he was rude, he practically ignored you and everyone else for that matter. It was a couple of weeks later when you wore him down a little bit more. He started to say hello to you at the start of a shift, he offered to help you carry the crates of drinks on board, he stood with you whilst you cleaned the glasses and he had nothing to do until the guests came on board. Eventually, he started taking on more shifts so that he was always on the same days as you were. And that then turned into him driving you to and from your shifts most days - on the days when he didn’t, it would be you offering to drive him instead. He lived further away than you did and he practically had to pass your house to get to work anyway but that didn’t matter, you felt guilty if you never offered to pick him up. It was on those drives that he first started opening up to you. He told you about everything his family had been through. He told you about his Mom, his brother Jere, his relationship with his father, and the Conklin family whom you’d quickly learnt meant the world to him and Jeremiah. He told you about college and his dreams of working in medicine. He asked you about your family, found out about your own plans with college and your career. Despite the initial coldness, Conrad quickly became one of your closest friends.

When summer ended, you both went your separate ways. But he started to text you more then. He’d send you videos that he thought were funny, and he’d send you photos of the assignments he had for class that week. Those texts turned into calls when you both needed to revise some nights. Those calls turned into midnight deep confessions, him telling you he was scared of losing Jeremiah, confessing that he felt insanely out of his depth at college. You listened. And Conrad became more certain than ever over those few months that you were the best friend he’d ever had. He never told anyone as much as he told you.

“Okay you’re not listening and you’re not getting your sandwich now,” You wipe your hands on the kitchen towel, the sandwich now cut in two triangle halves and presented on the plate in front of you.

“No, no, I am listening,” Conrad ensures you, “You were saying about…”

You walk around to the other side of the counter until you’re stood in front of him, taking one half of the sandwich from the plate and nodding your head towards him, “About?” You take a bite of the food.

“About…” He clears his throat again, “Jake from work and how my brother asked you… something.”

You chuckle at him again, holding the sandwich out for him to take it from you, “Your brother has invited people for tomorrow night, and he asked me to invite people from work. So I texted Jake, Allie and Peter, and they can all make it.”

Conrad groans, “I told Jere I didn’t want to do anything, I’m not doing a party.”

“Conrad,” You raise your eyebrows at him as if you’re waiting for the reasonable half of him to return.

He instead bites the sandwich and stares into your eyes as if he can see your soul behind them.

“I think it’ll be fun. And Jere’s been planning it all week,” You point out.

Conrad shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know what we have to celebrate.”

“Con,” You try to speak softly, not wanting to overstep a line you weren’t sure existed, “I think it’ll be good for Jere. He could probably do with the distraction. Plus, you guys haven’t seen Belly and Steven in ages and I haven’t even met them yet so that’s reason in itself to have a party.”

Conrad rolls his eyes, “I’ll stay until midnight and then I’m done.”

“Wow, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

He blinks at you as if waiting for you to retract your sarcastic remark.

“Oh, and Jere asked us to go shopping for supplies so I’m gonna go pee and then we’ll leave yeah?”

“What?” Conrad half chokes on the food in his mouth, “I didn’t agree to shopping.”

You’ve disappeared out of the room before he gets a response from you.

———

Conrad drives to the store which means he also gets to pick the music, though he opts for your playlist anyway. It’s colder in Cousins now and it doesn’t quite feel the same without the windows down and the air ripping through the car, both of you hot and bothered after a shift at work. But there was something comforting about being back with Conrad again. You’d missed him for the few months you’d been apart.

“Okay so what do we actually need?” He asks you as both of you step out of the car, making your way across the empty parking lot.

“Well, party supplies,” You shrug, “All the usual stuff.”

“And this needs two people? Why couldn’t Jere do it?” He grumbles, pulling out a cart from the waiting line.

“Conrad do you ever stop complaining?” You scoff, trying to wiggle the next cart free as the wheel gets stuck in your attempts.

“Here,” Conrad leans over behind you, his arms either side of you as his hands settle over yours on the handle of the cart, tugging sharply to free it for you.

You pause there for just a moment and so does he, until both of you seem to snap back to reality and his hands part from yours almost as quickly as they’d arrived.

“Alright come on, let’s get in and out before you complain any more,” You encourage, “We’ll both fill up on supplies and you can just be there to silently hate your life and store things in your cart. We need cups, plates, food, decorations, everything okay?”

His shoulders drop as if in defeat but he agrees with you nonetheless, letting you go in ahead of him so that he can watch as you disappear down the aisles, already reaching for things to put into the cart in front of you.

—

The two of you browse each one of the aisles and you switch between throwing things into yours and his carts, slowly filling them with each aisle you went down.

“What even is that?” He frowns, examining the last thing you’d picked up.

“Photo booth decorations,” You grin, “It’s not a party if there’s not good opportunity for photos.”

Conrad stares at you as if the words had made him hate you the tiniest bit for the tiniest amount of time.

“You know, I really think you need cheering up Conrad,” You point out, eyeing up the shelves until you find what you wanted.

You reach for the rainbow boa and lift it over the back of his neck, smoothing your hands down the bright feathers that fell down either side of his chest. Conrad suppresses a sigh and it bobs into his Adam’s apple instead, his jaw clenching as he looks at you. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips however, the faint evidence that he couldn’t not love to see you happy.

“You look ready to celebrate now,” You grin.

“Are you sure about that (Y/l/n)?” He raises his brows, turning around to pick something up from the shelf behind him, “Because I think this is much better.”

A pair of flower shaped golden yellow glasses now covered his eyes, his lips curling into a reluctant smile. You laugh the kind of laugh that throws your head back, clasping your hands together.

Conrad knew he looked like an idiot. He knew this was probably the most colour he’d ever worn. He knew the feathers were itching his neck and the glasses were tight on the top of his nose. But it didn’t matter. You were laughing and he was sure that was a sound he’d do anything to hear.

“I think they need to go in the basket,” You encourage, taking the glasses slowly from his face.

Your fingertips brush the temples of his head, grazing across his skin with such minimal intensity and yet he still feels his cheeks burn a fiery red at the contact.

“Come on Fisher, we just need mixer and then we’re done.”

You disappear around the corner of the next aisle before he has a chance to think about it any longer.

———

The following day you spend the majority of your time helping Jeremiah set up for the party. Whilst you were here for the couple of weeks over winter break, you’d been staying in the spare room so you’d started to get used to this house.

You helped him hang up streamers in the lounge and balloons from every inch of space in every room you could find. There were helium balloons that read ‘happy new year’ across one of the sets of cupboards in the kitchen and the paper plates and cups had already been set up on the countertop.

Conrad had disappeared earlier this morning to go to surf and you hadn’t seen him all day since. You couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want the party, let alone for it to consume his entire day.

“So do you think my brother’s going to make it to midnight?” Jeremiah asks, stretching a deflated balloon between the fingertips of both of his hands.

“Id be surprised if he came at all,” You joke, dangling your feet over the edge of the kitchen island where you were sat.

Jeremiah scoffs, “You’re going to be there, he wouldn’t not come.”

“Wh-“ You let out a laugh, “We’re friends. He wants to see me just like he wants to see everyone.”

“Come on,” Jeremiah rolls his eyes, “You can’t be serious.”

You frown just a little and he must notice the expression on your face, interjecting quickly before your concern can increase.

“I just think he cares about you, is all,” Jere encourages, “And it takes a lot for Conrad to be as open with someone as he is with you. You’re good for him, that’s all I mean.”

You nod and offer him a small smile, “Well then I’ll make sure he stays until midnight, at least just to see the ball drop.”

Jeremiah grins, “You have a deal.”

He glances at the time on his phone and his eyes widen at the screen, which he turns around to you quickly.

“Bells and Steven are almost here.”

You were yet to meet the pair that the Fisher brothers spoke to highly of. But you’d heard enough about them to feel like you knew them already. And you also knew that you were about 95% sure that Jere had a thing for Belly. You’d decide that for yourself once you saw them together.

You’re just about to hop down from the countertop when you hear the back door open and turn to see Conrad walking in. His hair is damp and there’s a towel slung over his shoulders.

“There you are!” You smile, “I was starting to think you’d froze out there.”

He laughs and walks around the counter and over to you, standing just close enough to you that his thighs bump against your calves still dangling over the edge.

“It was pretty cold,” His voice is soft as if it’s been drained by the freezing temperatures of the water, his lips ever so slightly blue.

You run your hands down his arms, the cold of his skin.

“You must be freezing,” You frown, squeezing at the skin as if you wanted to inject some warmth into him.

He hums in agreement, his eyes on you as yours seemingly scan him, full of worry, “I’ll warm up.”

His voice is soft, softer than usual as if he doesn’t want to disturb the moment by talking.

“You haven’t told me that the decorations look nice,” You point out, furrowing your brows at him.

Conrad tears his eyes away from you to glance around at the room, eyes scanning all of it before returning back to you, “It’s definitely something.”

“Something,” You narrow your eyes, “You’re such a party pooper.”

“They’re here!” Jere yells out, shortly followed by the sound of the front door opening.

“They’re here!” You repeat to Conrad, your hands moving to his shoulders to steady you as you hop down from the counter, “Time for me to make a good first impression.”

He mumbles so quietly under his breath that youre too far away to hear as he says “It would be impossible for you to give a bad one.”

—

Belly Steven and Taylor climb out of the car and hurry straight over to Jere, engulfing him in a hug of reunion amongst a chorus of overlapping conversation.

Conrad walks out with you and steps forward to greet the three of them, ruffling his hand over Belly’s hair.

“There’s someone you guys need to meet,” He mentions, glancing back at you with a smile warming his face, “This is (Y/n)… my friend.”

“Yeah, hey, it’s so nice to finally meet you guys! I’ve heard a lot about you,” You step forward and smile, “Like a lot about you.”

Steven laughs, “Yeah the boys are obsessed with us, that makes sense.”

“Oh my god I love your hair how do you get it like that?” Taylor steps forward and starts conversation with you.

“Oh um thanks, yeah-“ You glance up and see Conrad looking at you, that same warm smile on his face as if he was relieved you’d finally met this part of his life.

“I’ll take your bags inside,” You hear Conrad mention, soon feeling the soft touch of his hand on your back as he leans down to pick up Taylor’s bag from next to her feet.

His touch lingers for a moment longer, the faintest pressure on your skin. You’re certain the contact is electric, only recognising it in his absence.

———

“Hey Bells I told (Y/n) she could get ready with us in here,” Taylor encourages as she pushes open the door to the bedroom they were sharing.

Belly looks up from where she was sat in front of the vanity mirror fixing her hair, “Oh, yeah sure.”

“Sorry, I’m pretty sure I’ve been stealing Steven’s room whilst I’ve been here so I’ll try not to be in the way,” You smile.

“No don’t be silly you’re not in the way, right Belly?”

“Yeah, right.”

You take a seat on the floor in front of the window and make use of the disappearing natural light whilst it was still here.

“Okay so tell us everything (Y/n), what’s going on with you and Conrad?” Taylor asks, perching on the floor in front of the full length mirror.

“I-“ You laugh a little, “I met him at work, we both worked on this yacht over the summer. And I think if you spend any time with someone in that place you either hate them or become inseparable. And apparently me and Conrad were the second option.”

“Inseparable huh?” Taylor grins.

“Oh no no I just mean he’s like the only person in Cousins I spend any time with nowadays,” You laugh, “He’s just a good friend.”

“Really? Because the way he looked at you earlier didn’t look like friends, right Belly?”

Belly glances up from the mirror and you notice her pause momentarily, swallowing a lump in her throat, “I don’t- I mean I guess I didn’t notice.”

You offer her a smile and there are the faintest hints of her returning the gesture but they disappear quickly.

Conrad had mentioned to you that things had changed with him and the Conklins ever since his Mom had passed. He mentioned that the start of the summer was shitty but that things had worked out afterwards, when you and him became friends. But he never mentioned it in too much detail. He preferred to tell you of the years before and every memory of summers he had with them.

“You’re not looking for a new years kiss then (Y/n)?” Taylor asks you.

“No, no, not me,” You shake your head, “I don’t even know who I could see myself with.”

You set your makeup bag out onto the floor and Taylor plays music through her phone and the conversation dies down into the three of you singing along to the music instead. Belly’s quiet though, you can tell. It might be the day you’d met her but anyone could read that something was off.

———

You’ve smoothed your hands over your dress a million times and it still doesn’t seem to sit right. But you ignore it when you hear the door open again and more guests pour inside. You grab your phone from the bed and run a hand through your hair before hurrying outside and towards the stairs.

The party is already spilling through the entire house, oddly busy for how quiet Cousins felt during the winter. Jeremiah must’ve invited everyone they knew and told them all to bring friends.

You shuffle past a bunch of people you don’t recognise, spotting the familiar curls of Jere across the crowd to give you enough of a focus of where you were heading. The music was loud and you needed a drink.

“There you are!” Taylor grins when she sees you, “I was just about to come and find you.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change again,” You smile, glancing down at your dress again.

“Well it’s good you didn’t, you look killer,” She encourages, “Right Belly?”

“Yeah you look really pretty (Y/n),” Belly smiles a little bashfully in your direction as if she’s silently trying to apologise for something. Maybe she knew how it came across earlier, because you were already at least 70% sure that this girl didn’t like you, and you weren’t even sure what you’d done.

“Oh come on we have to dance to this one,” Steven grins, reaching over for Taylor’s hand and dragging her with him into the mass of people that were seemingly forming some sort of dance floor.

Belly steps around the kitchen counter so she’s stood closer to you as Jeremiah is busy chatting to a boy you didn’t recognise. You hadn’t seen Conrad yet.

“So how come you’re here for the new year?” Belly asks you, taking a quick sip from the red solo cup in her hand.

“Oh, yeah, well I told Conrad I didn’t have plans over the winter break and he told me to come and stay with them since they’d be here alone,” You nod, “And I didn’t have anything better to do.”

She nods, “So you two are pretty close then?”

“Well,” You shake your head, “We’re just fast friends, I don’t think it’s much more than that.”

“Conrad never makes fast friends,” Belly shakes her head, “And this is like the happiest I’ve seen him since… everything.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. Before today, you’d never thought too much about things between you and Conrad. You liked being friends with him so much that you were scared of ruining it - and thinking of him as more than a friend would definitely ruin that. You thought you knew Conrad’s type and you weren’t that. He saw you as a friend, the way a guy is different with the girls he doesn’t see something with. You’d convinced yourself of that early on and it was only today where your thoughts of that had started to change a little. Maybe he could see you as more than a…

No. He was your friend.

“Speak of the devil…” Belly’s voice trails off as she finishes off the rest of her drink.

“Okay who are these people?” Conrad comes up behind you, the crowd behind him pushing against him so much so that he reaches out a hand to your waist to stabilise him a little.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” You return, glancing up at him as he comes to stand beside you, his arm bumping your shoulder.

“Jake and Peter say hi but they’re in a beer pong tournament apparently that’s too important to leave,” Conrad explains, grabbing a beer bottle from the open box and cracking it open.

“I’ll try to catch up with them in a bit,” You nod, glancing back over your shoulder as if you’d catch them in the crowd.

“I’m going to-“ Belly clears her throat, “I’m going to find Taylor.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, like you’d just been caught in the act or something. You’d never thought there was tension between you and Conrad when the two of you were together but it felt that way now and you couldn’t explain it.

“It’s weird seeing you in a dress,” Conrad comments softly, leaning down so that you can hear him a little better.

“Weird?” You practically grimace at the word, frowning a little up at him.

“A- a good weird,” He stumbles slightly into the words, “A good weird.”

“Learn how to compliment a girl Fisher,” You narrow your eyes at him, “Better than that.”

He rolls his eyes at you and grabs a red cup from the stack of unused ones, “What are you drinking (Y/l/n)?”

———

You’ve just about managed to settle into the party, and you’ve now been roped into the beer pong tournament that has absolutely strayed from being a tournament anymore. It’s just games of beer pong that don’t end. You’re on a team with Conrad and you’re playing Steven and Taylor, who are losing by two cups.

“Okay aim for that back one Taylor, any of that back line,” Steven encourages, his hands clasped together as if he’s praying,

“Steven you’re not even good at this stop coaching me,” She rolls her eyes, tossing the ball and watching as it bounces away from the table.

Steven suppresses whatever comment he was going to say and instead just wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling him into him, “We’ll get them next time.”

“You’re up (Y/l/n),” Conrad nods, leaning back against the wall behind the two of you, arms crossed as he watches you.

You throw the ball and it bounces once, landing in their front cup with a splash.

“That’s my girl,” Conrad beams, looping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“My girl?” Steven laughs, “Can you two just shut up and get married already?”

You hear Steven laugh, and so does Taylor, and Jeremiah, even Belly. And Peter, Jake and Allie were only a few metres away, they probably overheard it too. Were all of them thinking it?

You can’t explain it after that. You pull yourself abruptly away from Conrad’s chest, probably a little harshly. He looks down at you with a frown that quickly turns into utter concern when he sees your face, your frantic eyes.

“Wh- (Y/n) are you okay?”

“I’m sorry I-“ You drag a hand through your hair but no more words come to mind on time.

Instead, you turn and push as frantically as you can through the crowd until you reach the door to the garden, hurrying down the steps before anyone can catch up with you too soon.

———

The beach was eerie and peaceful at this time, at winter too. For as far as you could see, it was just you. You were stood on the sand a few feet away from the crashing waves. Your arms were wrapped around your torso to keep in some of the heat and you were already starting to shiver. It was nearly midnight in the middle of winter; of course you were freezing.

“(Y/n)!” It’s Conrad’s voice coming from behind you, but it sounds deeper when he’s worried, more like a bellow.

You don’t turn around.

“(Y/n) you had me worried sick, I didn’t know where you’d gone,” He breathes out a sigh of relief, “You must be freezing out here I-“

“Why do they all think something is going on with us Conrad? And why is Belly acting so weird with me? And why can’t they just accept that they’re friends? And what have you said to them about me?”

You turn around to face him and it’s as if everything rises to the surface in that exact moment.

He looks at you with worry on his face but it quickly dissipates into something more level headed as soon as your questions land.

“Okay,” He raises his hands as if in surrender, “I know they’re being assholes about us two together, but that’s just what they’re like, Steven’s an idiot and Taylor always wants to know people’s business, I promise they don’t mean any harm.”

You don’t respond.

“Belly’s weird with you because…” He takes in a deep breath, “This time last year, when my Mom was sick, I was dating Belly. It ended before my Mom died and we’ve figured out a way to be friends since but I think it’s just weird for her to see me with someone- someone that I’m close to.”

You feel your heart skip a beat, just for a second.

“I’ve told them a lot about you, I talk about you to them probably as much as I speak about them to you. You’re important to me (Y/n), and I want my family to like you.”

“But we’re just fri-“ Your voice shakes in the cold, “I mean you don’t see me like that-“

“Earlier,” He cuts you off, “When I first saw you tonight, I should’ve said you looked beautiful. That I think even with a thousand people at that party I don’t think I could find anything that would make me want to take my eyes off you. That even with a hundred voices and a million songs I don’t think anyone will ever say something that interests me as much as every word that you speak. That for the past few months I’ve felt exactly like that. That I wait for you to call and I’m sure I would talk to you every moment of the day if I could. That you look beautiful in that dress and you look beautiful every other day too, even more so when you don’t even think you do. I should’ve said that tonight and I should’ve said that long before tonight too.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, feel the blood pounding in your ears, and yet all you can focus on is him.

“The truth is I’ve been lying to you, (Y/n),” He shrugs his shoulders, “I told you that you were the best friend I’d had. And that part’s true. But where I lied is that I don’t think I could ever convince myself to be just friends with you. I’d spend too long trying to make you laugh, focus too much on every detail so that I could remember it for next time, swap my shifts to shittier days just to see your face. So I’m sorry I lied to you, but-“

You see it then. It’s Conrad. Is it Conrad? Is it really the boy you’d been spending so long convincing yourself was just a friend?

“Kiss me.”

He pauses, swallowing the lump of nerves in his throat, “I-“

“Kiss me,” You repeat, more certain of yourself.

Conrad steps forward, closing the space between you. One of his hands falls to your waist almost instinctively, the other cupping your cheek softly. His eyes flick between yours, dropping to your lips before coming back to meet your gaze. And then his lips are on yours. Soft and hesitant at first, quickly met by the pressure of his certainty. His lips move against yours like the two were made for each other, his hands holding you like they were carved for you. You feel yourself moan against his touch as his hand draws to the small of your spine to pull you closer into him, craving more of your touch.

He only pulls away when the two of you are gasping for air, his forehead coming to rest against yours. His chest rises and falls in rhythm with your own.

“That was-“ You breathe out but all of the other words disappear as you’re interrupted by the echoing chorus of a countdown from the house.

Conrad’s eyes are on you and his lips curl into a smile, “I think our new years kiss was a little early.”

You laugh as their countdown gets closer and closer to zero.

“Kiss me,” Conrad is an echo of your own words from before, more certain of himself now that his veins are flooded with adrenaline.

Three… two… one.

Your lips are on his. Soft, longing, neither of you wanting to break away.

“Happy New Year, (Y/n),” Conrad whispers the words like he doesn’t want the breeze to take them away from you, his hands on your waist holding you like he would never let go.

“Happy New Year Conrad,” You return, your cold hands cupping either side of his flushed face.

He wraps his arms around you, radiating every ounce of heat his body had left as your head rests on his chest, watching the sparkle of fireworks across the other side of the coast as they ignite into the sky. And you’re sure then that Conrad would never let those same fireworks die out. And you could stay like this forever.

[mattsturniolosmuse]

In The Red Jeep

Request for someone (I wasn't sure if you wanted me to tag you or not, but you know who you are)

Request: um i would like to request a jeremiah smut where the moms are out me and jere went to the beach far from the beach house and we are at the beach having a date night and we go back in his jeep and we start kissing and turns into a makeout session and he and i go in the backseat i see that he set up pillows and a soft blanket and we continue kissing and i tell him that im ready and continue to kiss me he takes my clothes off and he takes his off too we do different sex positions like hes on top of me and then we switch im on top of him a lot of kissing too thank you girly!!🩵❤️‍🔥🫠

Warnings: smut, p in v, dom! Jeremiah, sub! reader, loving s3x, different positions (missionary, cowgirl), fluff, making out, pet names

"Alright, we'll be back by midnight!" Susannah calls into the house. Jeremiah nods from his spot on the couch.

"Don't get too drunk!" Conrad calls to them as both Susannah and Laurel leave the house.

"So, any plans for tonight?" Jeremiah asks Conrad, Belly and Steven.

"I'm going out with Cam." Belly says.

"I'm going out with Nicole." Conrad answers.

"I'm going out with Shayla." Steve says. Jeremiah looks at you. You shrug.

"I've got nothing." You say, plopping down beside him.

"Want to go the beach?" Jeremiah asks, wrapping his arm around you.

"Sure. Why not?" You say. You go change into your bathing suit, which was a two piece, bright orange with small white polka dots. Jeremiah stares at you.

"What?" You ask, wrapping a towel around you insecurely.

"Nothing! You just look really good." Jeremiah responds, licking his lips. You nod, blushing.

"Alright, let's go girl." Jeremiah says, spinning in a circle. You follow him with a laugh.

>>>><<<<

"The stars are so beautiful." You say, more to yourself than out loud. Jeremiah looks at you.

"Yeah, they are." He starts, hesitating. "Not as beautiful as you." You blush, covering your face.

"You know, that was really, really corny." You say, laughing.

"I mean it." Jeremiah says, bringing his face closer to yours. His lips were less than a centimeter away from yours. He pauses, waiting for you to stop him, but you don't. Soon enough, he presses his lips to yours, in a soft, gentle kiss. He let it linger before pulling away.

"Come on, let's go." He says, grabbing your hand and leading you to his red jeep. You get in the passenger seat, and you and Jeremiah share the same brain space. The second you sat down, you both reached for each other and your lips collided in a heated kiss.

You whimper as Jeremiah attacks your neck with kisses.

"Jere, I'm ready, I want you." You moan as he sucks a hickey below your jawline.

"Back." He says, and you understood. You climb into the backseat, and Jeremiah follows. You gasp when you see soft pink pillows and fluffy blankets set up.

"Aw, Jere!" You smile, hugging him. He smiles, pressing his lips against yours firmly.

His tongue slides past your lips, and you smile, giggling happily. His tongue clashes against yours, and he groans at the contact.

He lays you down, your heading resting against the pillows. His hand ghosts your breasts, holding a strap of your bikini.

"Can I?" He asks you. You nod. He unties the bow, letting it fall from your chest. He moans at the sight of you, his cock pulsing.

He leaves open mouth kisses across your chest, attaching his lips to yours again. You grab his face, the kiss all tongue and teeth.

You tug at the waistband of his swim trunks, and he pauses kissing you to pull them down. Your stomach flutters when you see him.

Am I really doing this? You ask yourself. Jeremiah notices your nervousness.

"Hey, it's ok." He says, grabbing your hand and kissing you. The kiss distracts you from your fears.

He peels off your bikini bottom, and Jeremiah whimpers when he sees the wet mess you were.

"Oh my god, you're killing me." He says, pulling away from you. He grabs a condom from the front seat, joining you once again. He tears open the package, pulling it onto his throbbing cock.

He holds your hand again.

"Ready?" He asks you. You nod, biting your lip.

"Alright." He says. He pushes in, kissing you to distract you from the pain. You moan into his mouth as he bottoms out. He begins to thrust in and out of you slowly, gradually picking up speed. He groans into your mouth as you clench around him.

"You feel good around me." Jeremiah moans, kissing your cheek and then your neck.

"Faster, Jere!" You moan out, digging your nails into his back. He obeys, fucking you faster, as your back arches off of the blankets. Jeremiah flips you over, and you're on top of him.

"Ride me." He moans. You bounce on him gently, going faster each bounce. You arch your back, resting your hands on his knees for balance.

"Jere! I'm so close!" You moan, swaying your hips.

"Yeah me too." He responds, squeezing his eyes shut. You feel him twitch inside of you, and you clench around him, causing a pornographic moan to fall from his lips.

You cum around his cock, and he shoots his load deep into you. You pant as he sits up and smashes his lips against yours.

"Thank you. I love you." He says, lips still against yours.

Personally, this was really bad, but whatever.

[frikatilhi]

Do you think Bojan sometimes asks Jere to tell him about his day in Finnish because it helps him calm down and fall asleep?

Oh yeah. He calls it Jere's podcast voice. Jere's words flow so easily and his voice is low and calming and grounding, and Bojan doesn't have to care about what unhinged thing comes out next since he doesn't understand. Jere could just recite the phone book for all he knows.

Jere, of course, does not in fact recite the phone book. (There are no phone books to read from anywhere, come on now.) He starts by talking about his day, how things went, what he ate. When he's fairly sure Bojan is finally asleep, he'll continue with how much he misses him, how much he hates not being able to be with him, how disappointed he is that he hasn't been able to visit. He ends with a soft "hyvä yötä, rakas" just before hanging up and burying his face in the pillow.

[mint-ty]

a prompt if you're still doing those: bojere, taking care of bojan when he gets sick 💗

thank you!! 🥹💕 this got a bit longer, but bojere is my drug, what can you do 😌Also thank you to @nembzz for suggestions on Finnish remedies 😁💕

Bojan dragged in his hand luggage through Jere's apartment door and they shared a long hug. Several days ago Bojan had complained on their weekly phone call that he was starting to feel under the weather again, even though he just got better. Jere suggested, that maybe in that case Bojan should just change the weather, and that he's always welcome at Jere's. To his pleasant surprise, Bojan did take the offer without any further pushing.

"Sorry I can't pick you up from airport..." Jere apologized when they separated.

Bojan smiled back. "Oh don't worry! It was actually so nice remembering the route and knowing where you live."

"You want to eat something? I have food here, but I can order also. Or drink? Do you want drink? Do you want to go out?" Jere jumped right into offering anything he could think of.

"No that's okay, don't worry." Bojan sat down on the couch and immediately he felt the gravity pushing his shoulders down and he stretched out. "I'll just lay down for a moment if you don't mind." The travel wasn't long, but somehow it seeped out all the energy he had.

"Yes yes of course." Jere was hovering around Bojan, not being sure how to help. "Do you have temperature?" He asked with a heavy accent on the 'r' sounds and pressed his hand to Bojan's forehead.

Bojan smiled at Jere's touch. "No I'm fine, really."

"We should really go to sauna... I am sure it helps."

"Maybe later, okay?"

"Sinkki... You need to drink sinkki... um, zinc?"

"Jerč..." Bojan extended his hand to grab Jere's hand, who was about to run off to the kitchen. "I just need to rest for a bit, can you stay with me, please?" Bojan scootched to the wall making space for Jere, and after a brief pause Jere carefully arranged himself next to Bojan, hugging him and placing Bojan's head under his chin.

Bojan chuckled to himself. In a silent and sunny living room, with Jere's heartbeat next to his ear, of course he would immediately feel better. If there was one safe space in the whole world, it was here - in Jere's arms.

"I'm tired..." Bojan whispered and felt Jere gently brush his hair with his cheek. "I don't think I'm actually sick, but I am so god-damn tired all the time... No matter how much I sleep or eat, there's no difference."

"...Maybe you have panic again?"

Bojan had to think for a second. "I don't think so? At least I don't remember. But it feels... like I don't feel anything." Bojan burrowed his face into Jere's neck and confessed the scariest thing of all. "I don't feel motivated. I don't feel like creating lyrics or playing music, or singing... it's all a chore. I just want to... I don't want anything." He finished with a small voice.

Bojan knew that Jere would understand, but for a moment he was still scared of Jere's judgment. Would he think Bojan was giving up?

Instead Jere wrapped Bojan harder in his arms and sighed. "Bojan, I think you're burnout."

That surprised him and Bojan lifted his face to look at Jere. "From what? This year is so much easier than last year... Why would I have a burnout now?"

"Maybe if you know, you wouldn't have it?"

"Huh? So how do I get better if I don't know what's wrong?"

Jere brushed Bojan's arm and gave a soft kiss on his forehead. "You listen. Your body know what you need if you listen. If it says he don't want anything - don't do anything, just rest."

Bojan placed his head back on Jere's chest, thinking. Maybe Jere was right, Bojan's body did take him here, back into Jere's arms, almost without any conscious thought. He didn't have energy for anything, other than a spontaneous international trip to Finland it seemed.

"But I still think maybe you also are little sick too." Jere continued after a while. "So I take you to sauna later. And we drink tea and honey. And I give you socks with garlic."

"A what?"

"Garlic in sock? You don't know? You sleep and you feel better!"

"And you'll let me sleep next to you with garlicky feet?" Bojan had to laugh at that.

"Yes yes! It cure you, you will see!" Jere was looking at Bojan with an open eyes and once again Bojan wasn't sure if Jere was joking or not. But Bojan was about ready to try anything that might help. And Jere taking charge was so comforting that Bojan decided not to question the methods for now and just let Jere care for him.

"I don't have onion... I need to buy some." Jere mumbled to himself.

"Jere... You're making soup out of me?..."

"Ha! No... but I still eat you!" Jere grinned, squeezing Bojan hard to his chest.

It really was a wonder. Only twenty minutes here, and Bojan was already feeling so much better.

[ist4rgirlo]

a one shot with conrad where it’s basically like the scene in season 1 where jere confesses to belly in the pool but conrad instead of jere? thank uu i love ur writing

──────────── 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐤��𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 - 𝐜.𝐟

ONESHOT !

summary : conrad finally having the guts to confess to his bestfriend

Conrad and you had been inseparable since you were young. Growing up as next-door neighbors, both of you spent countless hours exploring the woods behind your houses, playing games, and creating unforgettable memories. Over the years, your bond only strengthened, and you became each other's confidants and best friends.

As summer approached, the scorching heat settled over their Cousins. Seeking refuge from the rising temperatures, Conrad and you found solace in their pool. Its sparkling blue waters and lush green surroundings provided the perfect combination of tranquility and adventure.

One fateful afternoon, you decided to escape to the pool once again. As both of you arrived, the sunbeams danced on the water's surface, inviting the both of you to dive into its refreshing embrace. Both Conrad and you eagerly stripped down to your swimsuits and dived in, laughing and splashing water at each other.

As you swam side by side, Conrad’s heart started to race faster than his strokes. The warm summer breeze whispered encouragement into his ear, urging him to let his true feelings be known. Glancing over at you, your soft smile and sparkling eyes, he couldn't help but wonder if you felt the same way.

Your laughter echoed through the silent air as they floated on their backs, staring up at the clear blue sky. The moment felt magically serene, and Conrad knew he couldn't let it slip away without expressing his love for you.

Taking a deep breath, Conrad mustered up the courage to speak. "Y/N," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

You turned your head, looking at him curiously, smiling a little. "What is it, Connie?" you replied, your voice tinged with both excitement and surprise.

Gathering every ounce of bravery, Conrad continued, "Y/N, you mean more to me than anyone else in this world. You, you’ve been my bestfriend and my biggest support. Lately, I, uh, I’ve just been feeling something more, something.. deeper.” Your eyes widened, your heart fluttering.

“What are you trying to say, Connie?” You asked, swimming closer to him, your voice filled with concern. Conrad swam closer to you, his hand, holding your waist gently.

With a nervous smile, Conrad let the words spill out, "Y/N, I think I'm in love with you. You're not just my best friend; you're the person who lights up my life. I can't keep these feelings hidden anymore."

Silence settled around them, punctuated only by the gentle lapping of the water against your bodies. Uncertainty mirrored on your face as you absorbed Conrad’s heartfelt confession.

After what felt like an eternity, your eyes softened with understanding. Your lips curved into a tender smile. "Oh, Connie," you said, your voice laced with affection. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear those words." you pulled him in, hugging him tight.

Relief washed over Conrad as he pulled away, gazed into your eyes, their depths revealing your own hidden feelings. In that moment, time stood still, and all worries vanished. Both of you had taken a leap, transcending friendship into the realm of something more profound.

You embraced in the water, both of your laughter blending with their joyous tears. The pool witnessed your unspoken love, a testament to the bond that had grown between the two of you. He looked you in the eyes before puling you in, “Can I kiss you?” Conrad whispered, his eyes looking at your lips. You bit your lips before nodding, before you knew it, he pressed his lips to yours.

From that moment on, your journey together morphed into a romantic adventure, guided by the strength of your friendship and the beauty of your newfound love.

And so, under the summer sun, Conrad and you continued to swim through life's highs and lows, forever grateful for the day you both found the courage to dive into the depths of your hearts.

[mitochondriencocktail]

50 for the kiss request, and bojere bc just obliterate me at this point /pos

ok u asked for this... (for extra atmosphere... this is the song I pictured.)

50 ...in love

--

The coffee table had been shoved to the far reaches of the cramped living room, only the checkered carpet remaining in the middle. It was far from ideal for dance practice, but Jere had insisted it would be fine. It became quickly apparent that they wouldn't need much space for the skill level they were working at.

"No, step less wide. You're looking boxy."

Jere rolled his eyes, but acquiesced, shortening the width of his side stepping.

Bojan hit play on the YouTube video that was embarrassingly titled How to Learn a Wedding Dance in 5 Steps. It wasn't that Bojan or Jere didn't have any experience, but it'd come to light that when pressed to dance in a formal setting--face to face of all things--it seemed all of their natural rhythm went out the window. How the fuck that worked baffled Bojan. They were two musicians, both of whom danced entirely fine under any other circumstances, but suddenly with their wedding day looming, that was all moot.

"Okay, next we're going to learn how to separate!" the perky dance instructor said through the speakers of Jere's MacBook. Onscreen, she and her partner talked about how the lead should use their body weight to guide, not shove, the follow.

It was the fifth time they'd watched this.

Bojan's elbows jerked awkwardly out, sending Jere springing back.

"Bojan, loosen up," Jere pinged, pulling himself back in close.

"I'm loose! I'm so loose right now."

"That not something someone loose would say."

"Why am I leading?" Bojan blurted out.

"You taller..." Jere huffed. "Plus I not want pressure of it," he cackled.

Bojan sighed. Alright, fine, if Jere wanted Bojan to lead, then he would lead.

"Okay, let's start from the top." Bojan disentangled himself from Jere and shook out his arms and legs, pushing away the anxiously gnashing thoughts of all those eyes of friends and loved ones watching them awkwardly shuffle around a too-big dance floor in the middle of some ballroom that Bojan's family had insisted on. It didn't have to be perfect. It just had to be them on the big day.

Jere paused the video and pulled up their song, a dreamy, melodic slow dance with lots of reverb and sappy sentiment.

A deep breath as the beginning chords echoed through the living room.

Bojan held out his hand, Jere's slipping effortlessly into it. Their eyes met and Bojan let the music wash over him, leading Jere out to the carpet with intense focus, timing it just so to add a twirl before getting into basic position. From here, his lips lined up perfectly with the crown of Jere's head.

As the song continued on, their feet step-tapping in beat, the tension eased from Bojan's body, Jere's infectious optimism about the whole thing bleeding out between them. The weight of every step filled Bojan's heart with a pleasant humming; the gentle strumming and smooth voice eroding away the rough edges of Bojan's frustration like a river over stone.

Using his body weight, he led Jere out into a separation and then guided him back in for a spin, repeating it a few times throughout the song, each one more playful than the last until Jere was bubbling with giggles.

As the song came to a close, Bojan was grinning, soft and gooey like caramel. He dipped Jere down with flourish and the song faded into the quiet of the living room, only their breath audible.

"Sorry, I know I can be kinda fussy," Bojan admitted with a quiet chuckle.

Jere kissed his nose.

"Yes, but I love."

"I hope so," Bojan laughed, "we're getting married in two months."

Jere's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"We are," he beamed.

In that smile, a distillation of a million shared moments; tentative beginnings, heartfelt middles, and a sprawling future with untapped possibilities. It shouldn't have been possible to cram every shared meal and quiet evening and midday walk and grocery haul and international flight and scenic view and cherished 'get home safe' text and silly fight and steadfast comfort into a single look, but Jere was always defying the odds. Achieving the impossible.

Bojan brought Jere up from the dip and kissed him.

[hotcat37]

44: stalker! Tommy x deaf! Jere I'm so obsessed with this idea now

glad you like the concept anon 😋 (just a disclaimer beforehand that in this AU of an AU Jere and Tommy are not in a relationship before Jere gets abducted)

44: tipping chin up

Tommy's getting a little agitated. Jere has been giving him the cold shoulder for well over 30 minutes now. Which, okay, is mostly the Estonian's fault. He's not proud of it but he did take away Jere's hearing aids earlier. But only so he could take his phone call in peace without having to worry about his Finn hearing things he shouldn't. It had just been Mikke, calling to ask if Tommy knows where his little brother is and getting increasingly more hostile the more the brunette played dumb. In the end, Tommy hung up the phone just as Mikke's angry rant started becoming more Finnish and less English.

Afterwards Jere blatantly refused to accept the hearing aids back. While Tommy understands that he did hurt the other man by practically yanking the devices out of his ears, at some point the ignoring became less justified and more petty. And he's getting fed up with it.

"Jere." Tommy says through gritted teeth, despite knowing that it can't be heard. He forcefully tugs at the blankets Jere has protectively wrapped around himself like a cocoon. A distressed whine comes from underneath the cloth but it's not enough to halt Tommy's actions.

"I'm trying to-" The brunette pants out as the struggle continues. For being in such a vulnerable state, Jere remains feisty as ever. "-talk to you so just fucking knock it off!"

At last, Tommy wins. The blankets are thrown further across the mattress and Jere is finally bare before his eyes. But that Finnish stubborness just won't fade no matter what because Jere still defiantly fixates his eyes on the floor. Out of patience, the Estonian's fingers reach out to grab the younger man's jaw, forcefully tilting his chin up until angry blue eyes glare into his. Jere's mascara is a little smudged and even through the thick haze of frustration, Tommy feels a stab in his chest at the realization that his beloved must've been on the verge of tears earlier.

"I'm sorry." Tommy mouthes the words slowly, lets Jere read his lips. Black eyebrows furrow together at that, clearly not ready to forgive yet, but the fire in Jere's blue eyes is starting to fizzle out the longer the tall man holds eyecontact.

He releases his tight grip on the Finn's jaw, digging around inside his hoodie pocket until he finds two neon green hearing aids. This time, Jere accepts them when they're offered to him, albeit hesitantly. Tommy watches his friend (it physically pains him to have to admit that they're not quite official yet, he's working on it) put the devices back in, allowing him to hear again.

"Hey...." The Estonian keeps his tone soft, as if speaking to a frightened animal. "I'm sorry. Can you speak, please?"

Jere's previously timid expression turns into a frown and Tommy realizes that he's pushed his luck too far. The overstepping of boundaries rewards him with Jere literally turning his back on him. Oh well. Trial and error. Tommy likes to think of this as a learning experience for the both of them.

[sepetajmikolikomehoces]

🕯️

🥤

🛼

writers truth & dare

🕯on a scale from 1 to 10 how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

I'd say... a solid 7? I usually edit a bit as I go, simply because I might come up with something that impacts a situation that happened earlier and I need to go back and change that while I remember it. I also edit once I'm done to try and catch any left behind half-finished sentences. It's good, it meeds to be done, but sometimes I feel like I need to know when to stop before I veer off and edit things into oblivion.

🛼 describe your latest wip with five emojis

🧑🏻‍🤝‍🧑🏼❤️🌃❓️❗️

Make of that what you will...

🥤recommend and author or fanfic that you love

You can't just ask me to rec one. You can't. I refuse. Putting this under a cut because I might get wordy.

Space AU series by kuurama (AO3)

Run, don't walk, SPRINT LIKE USAIN BOLT TO THIS SERIES. Had me from the first sentence of the first part until the very last sentence of the second part, at which point I had cried more times than I care to admit. Gorgeous prose, continuously makes you sit back and have an existential crisis. 10/10 would be destroyed again.

Besane Su Naše Noći by @mitochondriencocktail and @mewnyan

Honestly, anything by these two geniuses, but this one especially. Can't walk past Dumle without having to clutch my chest to make sure my heart won't escape me. So soft, and with the kind of hope that makes you feel tender at the edges.

lovefool by @punanenmarli

The amount of screaming I have done over this. It is hilarious, it is angsty, it is deliciously filthy and Jere's thirst tweeting is a delight. You will want to punch Bojan, though. A little.

mun ainoa oikea satama by @frikatilhi

I don't have words for how much this fic fucked me up when I read it the first time. And the second. And third. I felt like my heart was being pulverized throughout, trying to yell at Bojan, at Jere, at the mere thought that there could be a world where they are not what they are to each other.

Black Treacle by slightlysexualfiction (AO3)

A goddamn MASTERPIECE. Fucking glorious progression that builds and builds and you become so invested in both Jan and Nace and the something that is brewing between them. Whenever I get the update notification I immediately have to go sit down because I know that one way or the other, it will take me out.

The Marks on Our Skin by @electron-road-suspect

I love ERS's Kinktober verse with all my heart and whatever shreds remain of my soul, but soulmate AUs will always own me, and this one is so gorgeous and clever in its concept and execution, and though I thoroughly swoon at the two main constellations, it was the bonus chapter that truly took me out.

Do you think we'll be in love forever? by ate_my_brain (AO3)

An absolutely devastating what if scenario that feels so real I constantly ask myself if we're not looking at a very, very possible future. Heartbreaking, jawdropping, consistently mindblowing prose.

ljubili se (in se igrali) series by xianvar (AO3 + tumblr but tumblr refused to make it a tag)

I have gone back and reread this [redacted] amount of times. Like. I am in constant AWE at the emotional heft in this, it keeps hitting me every damn time, and I think xia may be one of my favourite Jance authors in the fandom.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

reader helping conrad with his panic attack?

I already wrote Conrad having a panic attack so I tried making this one different

Warnings: panic attack, mention of death/grief

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Have you seen Conrad anywhere?’’ you asked Mr. Fisher. 

You knew the funeral was going to be hard for Conrad. Every day since Susannah’s passing had been hard for him — and Jeremiah —, but when you saw him playing guitar with teary eyes, you promised yourself to not leave his side today. 

Unfortunately, your plan got derailed when Conrad rode home with his father and brother.

Adam nodded, the toll of the past few days on his face. ‘’Yeah, I think I saw him going to the rec room.’’

You thanked him, then took the stairs. 

As you reached the rec room, the door creaked softly under your touch, revealing a scene that tugged at your heartstring. Conrad was sitting on the small couch with his hand over his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps. 

The room felt stifling, suffused with the weight of his distress.

‘’Conrad,’’ you breathed, soft enough for him to hear. 

His gaze shifted toward the door, a few tears streaming down his face. He was trying to breathe, but the air was not going through his throat, stopping him from taking full breaths. ‘’I can’t— I can’t breathe.’’ 

You rushed over to him and sat on the couch. ‘’You’re having a panic attack, Con,’’ you told him, trying to be reassuring. ‘’You’re gonna be okay. Look at me please, just take a deep breath in.’’ You took a deep breath too, doing it at the same time as him to coach him. ‘’In. Out.’’ Your voice was shaky, but gentle, trying to not let your own worry transpire. 

After a moment, Conrad’s breathing became better and he finally calmed down. His emotional state was fragile, though. The smallest thing could roll him back into a panic attack. 

You smoothed the skirt of your black dress and pulled at his shoulder. ‘’Come here. Lay down.’’

Surprisingly, he didn’t protest. Conrad laid down with his head on your lap like a child and let you card your fingers through his hair. 

‘’I’m sorry,’’ Conrad whispered, his sad blue eyes empty as he looked ahead at nothing. ‘’On the drive home with my dad and Jere, I started having this tight feeling in my chest. I ignored it, but it didn't go away. People started to fill the house rapidly, so I went to rec room to lay down and I just...crumbled.’’

You shook your head, refusing his apologies. ‘’It’s okay—’’ 

‘’No, it’s not.’’ A tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your leg. ‘’She’s gone. She…’’ A shackle of sobs struck him, his usual composure shattering from the weight of his grief. ‘’I can’t breathe without her.’’

Your heart broke again, the pain from losing a parent unimaginable. 

You continued to stroke Conrad's hair gently, letting him release his emotions without judgment or pressure. You wanted to say something, but you knew that no words could fully heal the pain he was experiencing. But you were determined to be there for him, to offer whatever comfort and support you could.

At some point, you heard someone come in — either Belly or Steven —, but they didn’t say anything. They just closed the door and left, giving you privacy.

—

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[kolsmikaelson]

bonfires and jealousy — conrad fisher x fem!reader

gif is not mine. full credit to the owner.

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

word count - 717 | join my taglist | warnings - underaged drinking, foul language, mentions of fighting + blood, random guy being gross to reader + not proofread.

request by @gillybear17 — Conrad Fisher imagine they’re at a party at the beach and someone gets on the reader. Conrad gets mad and tries to fight the guy. The reader stops him and they go back to his house.

a/n — the ending kinda sucks but hope you love it!!

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

“hey there, gorgeous.” you were sitting by the fire watching conrad mess around with steven and jeremiah when someone sat next to you. sighing, you shift to look at the boy, and you’re met with an unfamiliar face.

“hi guy i don’t know.” you mutter taking a sip from your drink, looking back at conrad wishing that he’d notice soon and come back to you.

“i’m danny,” he introduces himself. “what d’ya say we get outta here gorgeous.”

“i’ve got a boyfriend.” you grimace, scooting further away from the boy.

“who said he had to find out, huh?”

“i think he just did.” conrad interrupts before you can speak, letting a wave of relief wash over you. “c’mon baby, i’ll take you home.” he holds out his hand to you. taking his hand, you stand from your spot on by the fire, letting conrad wrap his arm around your shoulder and begin to lead you away from the party.

“she’s probably cheated on you already dude.” he calls out laughing and kicks sand at the back of you and conrad. your grip on him tightens when his body tenses.

“the fuck did you just say dude?” conrad asks, voice low and laced with venom. it’s obvious that he’s intimidated by conrad, “you heard me pretty boy.” he scoffs. before you even realize what’s happened, conrad tackled him into the sand and is on top of danny throwing punch after punch.

“jere- steven, someone stop him.” you yell not wanting to get in the middle, but when you saw the amount of blood coming from the boys face you knew you needed to call for then. you managed to catch the attention of most of the people around you, jeremiah and steven included. the two rush over and pull conrad away.

“don’t ever speak about her again.” he spits out and walks back to you, grabbing onto your hand, he utters an ‘i’m sorry’ and leads you to the car.

the drive back to the house was silent, the only sound to be heard was the wind flowing in through the open windows.

“baby? why don’t we go inside and i’ll clean you up yeah?” you reach over and lay a soft hand on his, not wanting to put too much pressure on his wounds. you lean over the center console and press a kiss to his cheek and brush a stray piece of hair behind his ear. for a moment you forget about the events that happened just a little while ago, it’s just you and conrad staring lovingly at one another.

“let’s go?” you murmur, causing him to nod again. you jump out of the car quickly not wanting to be away from him for too long.

closing the door to conrads room you motion for him to sit on the edge of his bed. “stay there, i’ll be back in a minute baby.”

when you come back you’re carrying cotton pads and rubbing alcohol, you take a seat beside him and take his hands in yours, examining the cuts littering his knuckles. “this’ll probably hurt connie.”

“ ‘s okay, i’ll be fine.” he smiles softly at you. “thank you for this, i’m sorry about what happened.” he lets you continue to clean his hands before he speaks again. “love you baby.”

“i love you more.” you look at him with nothing but love in your eyes. “don’t be sorry either connie, i’m not upset.”

bringing an injured hand to cup your face, he lifts your chin and places his lips on yours. in between kisses, both you and conrad whisper sweet nothings to the other and you only pull away when you’re both gasping for air.

he wraps an arm around you and flips you onto your back and keeps peppering your face with kisses.

“connie, baby,” you gasp through your laughter “what’re you doing?”

“ ‘m showing my girl how much i appreciate her.” he smirks, with a twinkle in his eye. putting the alcohol and cotton pads to the side, he lifts the covers of his bed to let you get comfortable, as soon as he’s back beside you, he had turned the lights off and pulled you into his side.

“night my love.” he says into your hair, leaving a kiss on your head.

© joelsfarabees 2022

[frikatilhi]

that one soulmate anon again,

as a continuation not!fic fuel

maybe something unexplainable clicked in bojan when seeing jere for the first time. maybe seeing the winning umk entry, locking gazes with him at the preparty, a series of things that made sense and not at the same time. maybe?

previous ask here

how dare you anon

Watching UMK and hearing CCC was... familiar? All that Finnish spewn at him so aggressively, it stirred something, like something in him was waking from a long slumber. Was this the thing he'd been searching for, even without realising he was searching for something?

When they finally meet, nothing seemingly changes. No-one starts to see in colour; not marks appear on anyone's body. They don't read each other's minds, no first words are tattooed anywhere.

But Bojan can feel something, a quiet recognition. It finally clicks when he heard Jere speak Finnish, out of the character of Käärijä, not on stage, just him. The words wash over him and he just understands - they are linked. He doesn't understand what he's saying - his voice is soft and tender and a bit teasing - but he knows. That's the voice he's supposed to listen to from now on.

[lemon-jellybelly]

come clean, summer breeze (I’ve been feeling so weak/you are all I ever need)

Title from the song "Weak" by Wet / crossposted to ao3

jeremiah girlies win again! / You know how you feel about Jeremiah, but you're constantly guessing as to how he feels about you. Finally, you're ready to find out.

Everyone loved Jeremiah, and Jeremiah loved everyone back. He was outgoing and personable, and it was one of the things you admired most about him, but you were growing sick of watching him dole out his affection like candy. You didn’t know exactly when your feelings for your best friend had grown into something more, but you knew that they were strong enough to make you weak anytime his eyes met yours.

Some moments with him, you felt special: when he made you your favorite breakfast without asking, when he listened to you speak with a piercing intensity, when he put his arms around you. But sometimes it just felt cheap, like you were just anyone to be close with. Like it didn’t matter to him who you were, or that you were you. More than anything, you wanted it to matter. And you couldn’t take it anymore, this not knowing.

This is what you were thinking of as you and Jeremiah sat side by side, enjoying the emptiness of the beach in late afternoon. The breeze was gentle, just enough force to ruffle the ends of your hair. It was quiet, no sound other than the lapping waves.

You’d had a wonderful day together, a day that reminded you of simpler times. When you’d slept in too late on his rare day off, Jeremiah had taken it upon himself to rouse you for some one-on-one time. Normally, a man jumping onto your sleeping body would horrify you, but when you wrenched your eyes open to his goofy smile, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Get up!” He ordered, rolling off to rest beside you. “It’s already 10:00 and you promised you’d be up early.”

“This is early for me!” You protested, but he slapped a hand over your mouth before you could continue.

“Nope.” He shook his head, mop of hair flying every which way. “I don’t want to hear it. Up and at ‘em!” With that, he bounced off the bed, gripping your hand to pull you with him.

“Fine, fine,” you said, instinctively draping an arm across your chest. Clad only in a tank top and shorts, you didn’t know how much he could see, but the movement only served to draw his eyesight downwards. His gaze rested for a beat before he tilted his chin back up, flushing slightly.

“If you’re not out of here in five minutes, I’m coming back for you. And I won’t be so nice next time.” The threat was lost in the apples of his smile and shine in his eyes. For a long moment you watched the space he left behind as he shut the door, nearly trance-like, and then snapped to attention.

You made it out into the kitchen just before the five minute mark, hair loose and face bare. Jeremiah pushed a mug of coffee your way, just the right shade, and with it came his soft, glowing smile. You gazed at him over the rim as you took your first sip, heart skipping a beat when he caught your eye. Neither of you looked away until the distraction caught up with you, and a small stream of coffee dripped down the front of your shirt.

“Shit,” Jeremiah blurted, noticing it first. You glanced down as he grabbed a stack of napkins, pressing them to the front of the top. It was beyond salvage; it would need to go directly into the laundry bin, but he held the wad there anyway, dabbing gently almost directly above your heart. The coffee had already settled into the fabric and the napkins were having no effect, but ever determined, Jeremiah wouldn’t give up.

“Jere, it’s fine.” You said. “I’ll just change.” The truth was, it was dizzying being so close to him and being the focus of his undivided attention. Your knees were practically trembling at the prolonged feel of his large hands on your chest and his breath hot against your collarbone. Finally he listened and took a step back, lips screwed together, allowing you to retreat in search of a new shirt.

Once behind your closed door, you allowed yourself a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath. Of course you had been physically close with Jeremiah before. But your vantage point of the top of his head bent over your neck, and his gaze and fingers on your breastbone, had your nipples hard and your mind racing with explicit thoughts. Your exhale was shaky, the image of his kaleidoscope eyes burning into your mind. “Okay.” You whispered, forcing yourself out of your reverie. You changed swiftly, grabbing a random t-shirt out of your overflowing drawer and replacing the soiled tank top. Without so much as a glance in the mirror, you headed back into the kitchen to meet Jeremiah, who had poured your coffee in a to-go cup while he waited.

His arm was half-outstretched but he made no move to hand it over as you approached, instead gazing at you with an almost imperceptible smirk.

“What?” You asked finally, reaching out to snatch the cup. “Did I spill on this one, too?”

“No,” he said, amused. “I was just wondering where that shirt had gone.” You cocked your head and pulled the fabric out to see it better, only to immediately realize that the shirt wasn’t yours. It was, in fact, Jeremiah’s, his high school logo emblazoned in crackling print on the well-worn cotton.

“Oh,” you blushed. “Sorry, I didn’t even realize.” You had been borrowing from Jeremiah’s closet for years, everything from shirts and jackets to hats and sunglasses, but this was the first time that he had looked at you like this while you wore his clothes - as far as you knew, anyway. A wave of heat flooded through you under his gaze, which traced the curves of your body even through the oversized shirt. He looked almost proud to see you wearing it, his expression admiring.

“All good.” He said, grabbing the car keys from the counter and moving toward the front of the house. He brushed into you along the way, his sinewy chest smoothing along your shoulders as he stepped behind you. “It looks better on you.” With a wink, he propped open the door and ushered you through.

You drifted to the Jeep in a haze, only the slam of the car door bringing you back to earth. It was times like these exactly that had you so messed up over him, but you bit your tongue as he shifted into drive.

Everything about the car ride was normal; Jeremiah queued up his summer playlist, to which you both shout-sang along. This earned you plenty of stares from pedestrians along the road, but they only fueled your energy. By the time you pulled into a spot at the diner, you were both cracking up.

"Did you see the two girls with the dog?" You gasped, setting off a fresh round of laughter.

"They looked like they were going to pop our tires!" He whooped. Your shoulders continued to shake with giggles as the two of your slid into your usual booth. You loved these moments, when just looking at each other was enough to make you both giddy. But your joyful mood was cut short when the waitress sidled up.

She was new, clearly - Heather, according to her nametag - you had been coming here at least once a week this summer alone, but had never seen her before. And you knew you would've remembered her. Unfortunately, so would have Jeremiah: his eyebrows raised suggestively as his gaze traveled up her very long, very tan legs to her very, very pretty face.

Of course. You thought to yourself. I was getting a little too confident there, wasn't I? Just had to be knocked back down a peg?

At least you were spared from having to watch them flirt, as Jeremiah rattled off both of your orders with ease. It was a little uncharacteristic of him; normally, he'd draw out the conversation as long as needed no matter who he was with (seriously, you'd seen him flirt recklessly in front of Susannah too many times to count). But you weren't certainly weren't going to complain.

Conversation flowed as you ate, spearing forkfuls from each other's plates without bothering to ask. You were comfortable and unselfconscious around him, not afraid to take big bites or accidentally chew with your mouth open. After all this time, he'd seen you at your worst and had never been scared away.

When the check came, you were unsurprised to see a scrawl of red-ink numbers across the top, signed with a bubbly heart and the letter 'H'. Your fingers itched to shred the paper, but you tapped them deliberately against the table before reaching into your bag. Across the table, Jeremiah counted out the bills and set them down.

"But you paid last time," you said, open wallet in front of you. "It's my turn."

Jeremiah just shrugged, flashing you that sunny smile. "Don't worry about it."

After a moment's hesitation, you stuck your wallet back into your bag. "Thanks, Jere."

"Anytime," he said, holding out a crooked arm for you to take in a show of over-the-top gentlemanly behavior. You rolled your eyes but slipped your arm through anyway and allowed him to lead you out. You were both relieved and perplexed to see that the receipt was still lying on the sticky table, phone number unacknowledged.

You were still pondering this half an hour later, lying on your outstretched towel. Jeremiah never passed up on the opportunity to get a cute girl or guy's phone number. He hadn't taken out his phone to put it in or snap a picture, and there was no way he memorized the sequence. He just didn't take it. Was he not interested in Heather? He obviously found her attractive, so what possible reason was there not to follow through? Did he have feelings for someone else?

You racked your brain, trying to fathom who it might be. Jeremiah always had hordes of admirers, boys and girls from Boston and Cousins alike fawning over him, and he usually reciprocated. Yet, no matter how hard you thought, you couldn't recall him mentioning one name so far that summer. You couldn't remember him even kissing anyone at a party. What did that mean?

Your heart was racing almost as quickly as your mind, but you tried to talk yourself down. Maybe he just hadn't mentioned the person to you. Maybe he wasn't interested in anyone at all right now. Maybe Heather wasn't even that pretty, you had just been clouded by jealousy. But maybe, just maybe, it was you.

There was no time to think further on this; Jeremiah was running up from the water until he got close enough to shake droplets onto you until you squealed and chased him back in.

Now, hours later, you were both exhausted from swimming and sunbathing, and your thoughts were beginning to venture down that path. The beach had cleared out considerably. When you tilted your head to the side, Jeremiah was the only person in sight.

He looked radiant bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Strands of messy hair shone and his bronzed skin glowed, but more than anything, it was those eyes that got you. Bluer than the water but just as deep, you could get lost in them forever. He was so, so beautiful, and you felt a twinge in your stomach thinking about how many people probably felt this way about him. Talk of the town, Jeremiah Fisher; he was a work of art deserving of a public audience, but you wanted him all to yourself. And you wanted him to feel the same about you. Sometimes, like now, you let yourself think that maybe he did. You’d never been brave enough to find out, but you didn’t know how much longer you could let this fire consume you in silence.

You swallowed hard and closed your eyes tightly, just for a moment, before turning in the sand so that you were face-to-face with Jeremiah. He gazed at you patiently, scanning your sun-kissed face as he waited for you to speak. He could see a question in your eyes, but didn’t want to rush you.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” You finally asked, barely a whisper. If he was surprised by the question, it didn’t show.

“I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.” The response was so immediate that you couldn’t help but exhale a laugh. You didn’t want him to say what he thought you wanted to hear. You wanted to know the truth.

You sighed, hugging your knees to your chest and resting your cheek atop them. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he murmured, and you looked up to meet his eyes, seemingly earnest. His brow furrowed slightly, as though it pained him that you would doubt this. “From the day I met you, I’ve thought you were perfect.” After a beat of hesitation, he added, “ask any of the others, they know.”

You could’ve lightened the mood and teased him there, cockily asked how often he talked about you. You could’ve guided the conversation into familiar territory, the boisterous flirting whose root you could never determine. But you couldn’t find it in you. Something inside you was aching to be vulnerable with him.

“Have you ever,” You started, stopping to swallow, work up your courage. You tilted your head back up so that your chin was propped up on your knees. There was barely any distance between the two of you; you could feel the energy coming from his body as he reached his arm out to you, stroking your windswept hair back behind your ear encouragingly. His hand lingered, cradling your cheek. The gesture was intimate and sweet and sent a spark through your stomach in a way that gave you the push you needed. “Have you ever thought about what it would be like,” You continued, your voice becoming quieter as you reached the end of your question. “What it would be like if we...if we were together?”

Jeremiah’s thumb rubbed against your jawline as you spoke, movements dwindling as you finished speaking. For a brief, terrifying moment, you thought he would pull away in disgust. But his hand remained in place, and though you were too scared to look at him, you could feel his eyes on you.

“Of course I have.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you lifted your gaze slowly to meet his shining eyes. “Jere,” you whispered.

“Every time you fall asleep with me, in my bed. Every time you sit in my lap. Every time you flirt with someone else. Every time you jump in the pool, or sing in the car, or so much as fucking smile at me, I feel like I can’t breathe because of how badly I want to kiss you.”

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. “Say something.” He whispered. Instead, you uncurled yourself from the ball you were in so that you could lean into him slowly. Words weren’t necessary.

The kiss was soft and hesitant, and maybe a bit awkward, because though this was neither of your first kiss, it was your first together and maybe the first for either of you that had ever truly meant something. His mouth lingered against yours even after your lips had stopped moving. Jeremiah pulled away just enough to see your face, surely flushed, to make sure you were okay with it. But when he inched back, you followed him, aching to kiss him again for real.

This time, you were more sure of yourselves, eager and intense, his hand clasping the nape of your neck. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?” Jeremiah asked when you separated to catch your breath.

“Probably as long as I have,” you admitted, resting your hand on his knee. He immediately covered your fingers with his own, squeezing lightly. Your entire body was buzzing with adrenaline and pure happiness, but there was an unspoken question hanging between the two of you.

“What now?” You asked quietly, biting the bullet. “Do you want…does this change everything?”

He tried to cover it up, but you could see his face fall in response, and you immediately regretted your tone. “It doesn’t have to,” he hedged.

“No,” You interjected. “No, I want it to.” You blushed, cutting yourself off. “I mean,” You paused, running your hands through your hair. “I want to be with you, Jeremiah. I have for a long time.”

The relief in his soft smile was palpable, and your heart swelled, warming you from the inside out. “Me, too,” he said. “I want this. I want you.”

This was it, the words you had wanted for so long to hear, and it felt even better than you could imagine. Any lingering doubt was gone, erased by his lips on yours.

“Okay,” You said, matching his grin. You sat like that for a moment, smiling stupidly at each other like a scene straight out of a romcom before he tilted his face forward to kiss you again. With one hand you stroked the hair at the base of his skull, and you placed the other on his thigh to use as leverage as you leaned in deeper towards him. His fingers threaded through yours.

“Stay with me tonight?” He asked hopefully, keeping your foreheads pressed together even as your lips separated. “We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be with you.”

“Yeah,” You agreed, squeezing his hand and resting your chin on his shoulder. “Of course.” Though it was approaching dusk, the sun seemed brighter somehow, more brilliant. It looked like the whole world was shimmering. But maybe you were just seeing it through new eyes now that it felt like magic was possible, like your dreams had come true. You nestled into the curve of Jeremiah's neck and his free hand slotted in between your shoulder blades, rubbing soothing circles. You were amazed by the feel of him against you: the hand on your back, his lips on your hair, palm covering yours. He squeezed again, tighter this time, and you reciprocated. Now that you had him, you were never letting him go.

[berryflops]

" history " | part four

masterlist | word count: 1,115 | warnings: swearing, fluff, boring filler part :)

authors note: fair warning, the series will be based off scenes in the show with elements of the books. every single scene will come from the show unless it is a made-up flashback, and if something is mentioned that you don't understand please let me know, so i can let you know if it was a mistake or if it was in the book :)

I took a deep breath, opening my eyes and rubbing the sleep out of them. I was in the most familiar place possible, yet everything felt out of place. Jeremiah’s room was always messy, but that’s what I loved about it. It looked lived-in, it looked used. My room looked like a cleaning lady came in twice a week, except that cleaning lady was me.

I rolled over and hugged the blanket to myself, snuggling deeper under the covers. I felt a bit of an ache in my chest when I completely registered Jeremiah wasn't in the room, and shook it off immediately. He didn't even need to do anything last night, but he did. I should be grateful for that. A paper caught my eye on the bedside table and I flipped over to grab it. It was a simple note, scrawled in Jere’s messy handwriting. It said to meet him downstairs, that I could borrow a shirt and shorts if I wanted. Folded next to the note was a Cousins t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. 

I swung my legs out of bed and pulled down the top of my overalls, tugging off my shirt and grabbing Jere’s. Its fabric was soft and I got lost in its smell, watermelons and the ocean. And if I took a deep breathe, I could smell a hint of vanilla. Jeremiah never changed.

The shirt was huge on me, but it was comfortable. I kicked off my overalls and grabbed Jeremiah’s shorts. They hung so low on my hips that they fell. I pulled on the strings and tied them tight, still causing the shorts to hang low.

My hair was still in braids and I let it stay that way. I stood and stepped over all the clothes on Jere’s floor, pushing open the door to the room and walking out. Surprisingly enough no one was in the hallway, although the amount of people staying here was always making that a surprise.

I took a few steps downstairs, twirling into the living room to see Conrad in the couch. “Connie! Good morning!” I knelt down to kiss him on the head. Conrad swatted at me and I laughed, feeling giddy with a bubbly feeling I didn’t recognize.

“Shut up. My head hurts.” He groaned, covering his face with a pillow. I giggled, striding into the kitchen. Steven was peering over Jeremiah’s shoulder. I smiled at the two. Jere seemed to be cooking, and Laurel was sitting at the counter on her laptop.

“All right, seriously, Steven. Get out.” Jere turned, waving a spatula in his friend’s face. I giggled joining Laurel at the counter. “This is a delicate science, and your heavy breathing is going to break the yolk.” Steven scoffed, still grinning as he walked away reluctantly.

“Good morning.” I turned to Laurel to hug her, but last night hit me like a tidal wave and it took everything I had to turn around and face Jeremiah.

“Morning.” Jeremiah called over his shoulder. Steven patted me on the shoulder when Laurel continued talking.

“She hasn’t painted you since you were little. I think it’d be nice to have these portraits, for when you’re older.” I lifted my head, thinking. Susannah was a painter, and she was good at it. When we were kids she’d painted us a few times. Tate and I had hung back, but she refused to let us leave the house till we let her paint us. She’d helped us feel accepted more in that moment than all the years before that.

“Is she gonna paint Tate and I?” I asked, still watching Jeremiah. I saw Laurel nod out of the corner of my eye.

“She wanted to paint Angela too.” I jolted at my sister’s name, sitting up immediately and searching for my phone.

“Fuck! J’ai oublié!” I spit out the last part in French as a default, hurrying upstairs and bursting into Jere’s room. I searched the pockets of my overalls for my phone, pulling it out and ignoring the stream of texts till I was back downstairs.

The blender was whirring when I’d sat back down and I looked at my father’s texts. Nothing. My friends were freaking out from my lack of responses, so I reassured them. I didn’t have too many close friends. Just a few teammates and the people in this house. Everyone else had left after my mom.

“I called your dad.” Laurel told me once I’d dropped the phone on the counter. I glanced at her and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before slamming my head on the marble. “And just sit for your portraits. I don’t see Conrad complaining.” She gestured towards the brunette who was almost passed out on the couch.

Jere poured his hangover smoothie into a glass and brought it to Conrad. “He’ll complain when he’s conscious.” Jeremiah handed the smoothie to his brother, gentle like he always was. Steven, on the other hand, was cranky.

“Come on, man. Hurry your ass up.” He started heading towards the table. “All right? I can’t be late for my first day of work.” I hopped up myself, as Jeremiah and Steven handled their little bro handshake.

“I’m gonna go. Thanks, Jeremiah.” I smiled at him, or at least gave him a trace of one, before facing Steven. “And if my brother shows up, just drive him to his job.” Laurel waved as I left.I saw Belly on the way and gave her a hug, letting her wonder what I was doing there. I shut the front door behind me, walking towards my own house, my own family, and my own problems.

I’d cooked some breakfast for Angela and my dad, cleaned through the house, and done a bit of school work. Tate was at the country club with Jeremiah and Steven, so I didn’t really have much to do.

I took out my phone and clicked on Conrad’s texts. He’d texted me a few hours ago, and so had Jeremiah. Both were a surprise.

conrad ☀️

Belly's a deb

sam

no way

conrad ☀️

I swear

It's some weird shit

sam

i can tell

maybe i should be a deb

conrad ☀️

Oh great

sam

for my mom, yknow

conrad ☀️

Good luck, Samantha

jeremiah fisher

your clothes are at mine, but no ones home

you can pick them up whenever

sam

thanks

where's belly, susannah, and laurel?

jeremiah fisher

shopping

sam

for what?

oh yeah

connie said belly's a deb

jeremiah fisher

yup

you wanna come by the club?

sam

sure

i'll be there in 30

read at 11:16

No one was at the Beck house. Angela and my dad said they were going out shopping. I had time to burn, and an invite to the country club. I might as well go. Maybe I could get a job, be a debutante, or even better, practice some basketball.

[bmeef-jermky]

Oh ok! Can you please write a fic where Rich finds out that Jeremy and Michael had a small fight so he decides to cheer Jeremy up by tickling him. I live for Ler Rich and him and Jeremys friendship. Thank you and have an amazing day!

//SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER TO MAKE I WAS UNMOTIVATED FOR A WHILE AND JUST GOT AROUND TO MAKING THIS ALSO SORRY ITS SHORT

“I’m fine, Rich!” Jeremy huffed and stretched. “It was just an argument..” he turned over on the bed, laying down and facing away from his friend.

Rich, unconvinced, lightly patted Jeremy on the back. “Are you sure?” He asked.

“Mhm. We fight all the time, it’ll blow over tomorrow.” Jeremy moved again, now laying on his back on the bed, arms rested behind his head.

The shorter boy took notice of this and gave a slight smirk, an idea forming in his head. “Hey, jere?” 

“Hm?”

Rich gave a small squeeze on Jeremy’s side, making him squeal. 

“RICH—” he tried to speak but Rich had already begun scratching a finger along one of his exposed underarms. Not wanted to give in so easily, Jeremy turned his head to the side and tried to stay still.

However, it was obvious he was going to break soon with all the giggles started to spew out of his mouth.

“Feeling better?” Rich asked, pausing to give Jeremy a second to breathe. Once a nod was confirmed, Rich continued to poke and squeeze Jeremy’s sides, who was now a flustered but somewhat happy mess.

After a few more minutes, Rich ceased the attack. “Glad to see you smiling.”

As Jeremy calmed down, he gave a soft smile. “Thanks, dude.”