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alouris · 8 months

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One last time. | Belly x Jeremiah

Summary: Isabel Conklin, ‘Belly’, is merely days away from marrying Conrad, so why is it that she can’t seem to get a certain younger brother off her mind?

Warnings: Slight nsfw, CHEATING, and maybe a few swear words here and there.

(A/N: hi! this is kind of weird to be posting on a completely new tumblr account but my main is literally a winx fan page and i think i’ll die of embarrassment if i posted anything like this on main, but i just read book three of tsitp and couldn’t get this out of my head. it’s short, but i hope someone enjoys it anyways).

Isabel Conklin knew that she was absolutely not sure about marrying Conrad Fisher.

It was insane to even vocalize it out-loud.

Conrad had been the one that she’d been dreaming about her entire life. He was the one everyone rooted for her to be with. He was her prince charming. That was the way it always was, and that’s the way it had to stay.

That relationship with Jeremiah was a stint. A momentary lapse in judgement. It was a mistake starting something with him, she knew that now. It was a line the two of them simply shouldn’t of crossed.

At least, that’s what everyone keeps telling her. Belly’s trying to internalize it, she really is, but she can’t when every-time she sees her fiancés younger brother she remembers how good his hands felt around her neck, how he carried her to bed from the couch when she fell asleep after a day of long classes.

Jeremiah was pure. So pure. When he loved he loved hard, which was something his older counterpart severely lacked. Belly never thought she’d miss the embarrassing public make-outs, the aggressive handholding, and the constant hickey hiding, but she did, she missed it so bad.

Isabel was three days from marrying Conrad. She was finally twenty two years old, having graduated from Finch that Summer. She and Jeremiah had broken up after the thing with Lacie, but it was amicable. The two were able to stay friends, although Jeremiah made it clear that wasn’t what he wanted. He never pressed for more, not wanting his former girlfriend to feel pressured into anything, but looking back, belly knew he wishes he did, because three months after her return from Spain, he found out that she and Conrad rekindled their romance, and were a couple yet again.

Jeremiah remained cool about it, but Belly knew he wasn’t. They could read eachother, and Belly could read the longing looks he gave her; the way he touched her when Conrad wasn’t around, the the things he whispered when Conrad wasn’t around —

The funny and ironic part about this whole situation is that Belly hadn’t thought of the younger Fisher brother in that way in months. She had buried those feelings with that relationship deep in the back of her mind — locking them in a box and throwing away the key. She didn’t even feel the urge to think about it either; not when things were going so good with Conrad.

She had been excited about her destination wedding, excited to party on an island and stay in a multi million dollar mansion with her closest friends and family and then get married to the love of her life, and now she was regretting everything; gulping down a nasty bottle of expensive wine in her bridal suite room that was undoubtedly from Conrad’s father.

She could hear music. Everyone was partying. It was like they were in college still, dancing and drinking like they were young. They were young. Twenty two was incredibly young to get married. Most of Belly’s college friends were still in college trying to graduate and playing the catch up game, and yet she spent the last six months of her life deciding what flowers she wanted as her centerpiece.

Briefly she wondered where her fiancé might be, but knew exactly where he was. In his room, sleeping. Probably excused himself after an hour with a headache, which pissed everyone off. Belly could just imagine Jere clenching his jaw and forcing out a, “Good night then, Connie.” And downing a beer.

Jeremiah spent the majority of the week drunk. He tried every liquor in sight, sipped whoever’s glass of wine he could get his hands on, and downed whatever shots were being passed around without fail. The years in the frat house we’re definitely benefiting him, that was clear.

Belly watched him, followed his moves. She watched him flirt with other’s guests, though he came alone. Belly wouldn’t admit it aloud, but she was glad he showed up. It was a victory for her, because that meant that she still owned his heart. Nobody had replaced her yet.

She took a deep swig from the glass bottle, jerking it so hard that some of it spilled onto her maroon cocktail dressed. She grinned, watching the droplets dry and sink into the fabric. This dress was so expensive. Shayla helped her picked it out, and the two of them giggled as they swiped away at Conrad’s American Express.

“That’ll stain.”

Belly’s door was open, and Jeremiah was leaning against the frame, a beer in his right hand. His blazer looked to be long lost, and his white button down was open two spaces down, and she couldn’t help but ogle her former boyfriends bare skin. She wanted to call him a slut, but held her tongue. She missed his beautifully tanned complexion year round. Conrad burnt so easily in the sun, and right now the light from the hallway was illuminating Jeremiah’s skin in a way Belly couldn’t look away from.

This also was the first time they’d been alone together for the entire week. Purposely or not, Conrad always managed to insert himself into whatever conversation the two of them would start to have, which was fine, he was her fiancé, but all the time was excessive. They hadn’t gotten time to catch up with each-other, and there was a lot to catch up on, especially considering that the two of them hadn’t seen eachother since their last family vacation four months ago.

“It’s the same color,” The brunette remarked, lazily. Her cool front remained strong, but she felt it weaken significantly when Jeremiah cracked a smile that felt so familiar. He sipped at his drink and slinked into the room, practically dancing across the floor to get to Belly. She recognized then that he was drunk, but she was also drunk, which meant that the playing field was leveled.

“I missed you, Bells. Best friend is getting married and we haven’t even talked about it!” He huffed, sitting at the edge of her bed.

Belly looked like a princess, sitting upon a thousand fluffed out pillows in a fancy silky dress in the center of her bed, a wine bottle held near her. She rolled her eyes at the mention of the wedding, and then it was her turn to take a drink. “Not much to talk about. Conrad’s acting like it’s any other week, and i’m..” What was she supposed to say?

I’m thinking about you? I want you?

No, because that’d be unfair to Jeremiah. Belly had her chance with Jeremiah, and she decided to end things over a momentary lapse of judgement in Cabo. Now she engaged to Conrad, his older brother whom he was currently in family therapy with —

“Your..?” Jeremiah pressed, scooting closer to Belly just by a few inches. He was playing it safe, Belly could tell, and she really wished he wouldn’t. She wanted him to touch her like before, without any bounds. Right now he couldn’t, he was restricted because of a little metal band around Belly’s finger. “Bells, you can talk to me. You were so excited when you got engaged, but now it’s like you’ve… dropped, and I just wanna make sure everything is okay,” He squeezed her thigh, offering her a smile.

She made eye contact with Jeremiah then; meeting those lovely blue eyes. She always pictured her babies having them. Conrad had blue eyes too, but not the kind you got lost into for hours like Jeremiah’s. When they were dating, sometimes Belly would just stare at him for minutes at a time to really take in his beauty. Memorize where his freckles fell and how his nose crinkled when he laughed.

She started crying.

“I cant. I cant,” She sobbed, head hanging. She made a mess of everything.

Jeremiah was concerned, immediately rubbing circles onto the younger girls back as a method of comfort. “Cant do what? Talk to me, Isabel,” Jeremiah urged, slurring over a few of his words. Even in his inebriated state he still attempted to care for her. Put her first.

“I’m selfish. I’m getting married to your brother, and you’re trying to make me feel better.”

She lifted her head, using her free hand to wipe streaks of mascara and concealer off of her face.

That makeup was cakey anyways.

“Things just aren’t right, Jere. This isn’t right.” She shook her head subconsciously, and Jeremiah returned a confused look, but eventually began nodding his head in faux understanding. He still didn’t know what was going on, and really couldn’t comprehend it in his drunken state, but offered his support anyways. “Bells, If you don’t wanna marry Con yet, you have to tell him. He’ll try to work through it, he’s different now.” Jeremiah urged her, his eyes big and hopeful. Even though he was twenty three now, sometimes he still looked just like the teenage boy Belly was in love with.

Belly rolled her eyes. “He wouldn’t work through it. It would just be.. over. It’d be so embarrassing and all of this money would’ve been wasted.” She sniffled. “Conrad just doesn’t care.. He could care less if this wedding happens,”

She kept chugging down wine, ignoring the concerned looks from Jeremiah. Even with his eyebrows furrowed together in distress, he managed to look so good. He always looked good, but this week his outfits had been on another level. The fact that he had bulked up since their college relationship days also didn’t hurt either.

Jeremiah paused. He was stumped. He didn’t know how to counter that, because he knew it was true. Conrad didn’t care about things, and he certainly didn’t fight for things. But certainly he’d fight for Belly, right? “Bells, that’s not true. Connie loves you.” It sounded like he was convincing himself, and belly snorted, laughing harshly.

“If he loves me so much, Jere, explain why we haven’t had any sex in three months?” It slipped out before she could even stop it, and Jeremiah choked on nothing.

“Do you think we should be talking about this?” He asked, ignoring the question.

Belly rolled her eyes. They had always talked about these things before Conrad. Even before they were together. After they grew to be a certain age, sexual experiences were always a topic of conversation, because they were bestfriends and that’s what bestfriends talk about. She wasn’t going to let the fact that this was also her fiancés little brother stop that.

But she would be lying if she said she didn’t like the way Jeremiah was looking at her right now. Those all too familiar blue eyes staring at her with lust and love, they were a little glazed over too, the way they always got when he drank.

“Connie isn’t here. And we’re friends. We can talk about this,” She insisted, sitting up to place her wine bottle on the night stand besides the large bed. Her sadness faded away and was replaced by something much more.. lusftul. Jeremiah watched her crawl across the mattress to do this, belly feeling his eyes on her body. She moved back to the center, and scooted closer to Jeremiah. Their knees just barely touching.

She sat up with her legs tucked beneath her, fixated on Jeremiah’s reactions to her every move. He was trying hard not to stare at Belly’s low cut dress, and it delighted the younger girl. Meanwhile, The older male looked like he was going to explode.

It was horrible. Cruel, really. But Belly loved knowing that she still had control over him like this. It reminded her that he’d always be her’s, and her’s alone.

She flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder, and then let her hand fall down to Jeremiah’s thigh. He squirmed, and Belly grinned. “He doesn’t get me going like you do, Jere. I don’t think anyone ever will,” Sincerity dripped from her voice, but Jeremiah was still hesitant to speak, his face flushing a dark red against his tanned skin.

“I miss how you used to touch me. I miss how needy you used to get,” Her words were starting to arouse herself, and she squeezed her legs together in an attempt to get some relief.

It didn’t help.

“Remember how you used to touch me? How I touched you?”

Jeremiah couldn’t take it anymore. His body was moving before his brain could keep up, and he was kissing Belly, moaning as soon as his lips touched hers.

They were soft, just like he remembered. Belly inhaled sharply — like she couldn’t believe that this was actually happening, and then she was moving with muscle memory, kissing him back.

Belly’s hands immediately went to Jeremiah’s hair, tangling into the soft curls on top of his head, tugging at them softly. Jeremiah made a noise when she did this, and Belly groaned. She needed more; pushing him backwards and crawling on him with little resistance from the other.

The kissed deepened this way, and Jeremiah was fast to push Belly’s already riding up dress up her thighs. Belly pushed her crotch up against his bulge, rubbing up against him involuntarily. It was like she had lost all control, and her brain was just going —

Jeremiah, Jeremiah, Jeremiah….

He stopped her when she started biting at his lip, and Belly groaned.

“We…” He panted, licking at his lips. “Y-You’re getting married, to Conrad. We can’t do this,”

Belly pressed her lips into a thin line at the mention of Conrad. She didn’t want to think about Conrad, much less discuss him.

“We’re both drunk, baby.” Was all she said, mumbling and cupping his face. Jeremiah looked confused, but melted anyways as Belly peppered kisses all over and used his special nickname — ‘baby’. Jeremiah died every-time Belly called him that, and she knew it. Just let me take care of you. We need it,”

She licked at his neck, and Jeremiah craned it to the right, a drawled out moan slipping out as his childhood best friend sucked at his skin.

Why did doing horrible things have to feel so good? This was possibly the worse thing Jeremiah had ever done, and yet all he wanted to do was rip that stupid cocktail dress right off Belly’s body, and suck marks all into her skin.

But Belly wasn’t technically wrong. Both of them were drunk, beyond intoxicated. They could do this today, and never again. It would be a tiny slip up. A one time thing, and then Belly would marry Conrad and they would never have to speak of it again.

“You’re not gonna tell Connie, right?” He asked, and Belly groaned.

“Yes, i’m going to tell Conrad that I let his little brother fuck me raw.”

Jeremiah’s cock twitched at the mention of being inside of Belly. “O-One time?” He questioned, and Belly nodded, moving to unbutton his slacks; a grin playing on her features.

“One time.”

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