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lemon-jellybelly · 2 years

Text

the right time — j.f.

** not my gif **

Summary: Jeremiah's confession of his true feelings for you always seems to die on his tongue. Until one day, they finally find their way out - AKA the three times that Jeremiah tries to confess, and the one time he finally does.

Requested: request can be found here

Word Count: ~5K

A/N: jeeeez. i got carried away with this one. i had so so so much fun writing this so i hope you enjoy it!! so sorry again for the wait but hopefully this makes up for some(?) of it? i also changed up some aspects of it from the request, so i hope that's ok!!! anyways i have a few hp requests sitting in my inbox and i wanna publish them in the next week or so, so be on the lookout :)

—

Jeremiah had always been a bit of a fan of ripping off band-aids. He liked the finality of it, the speed of it, the elated feeling that always enveloped him after the fact. He liked getting it done in one go and never thinking about it again. Whenever he watched Steven slowly peel his band-aids off his skin, he would cringe all over, wanting to shout at him to just be done with it.

He berated himself now, as he sat on your bed, when he couldn’t seem to take his own advice. He could never listen to his better senses when it came to you. No matter how hard he tried.

And he tried really, really hard.

He knew that he should just tell you. The confession had been boiling on his tongue for years now – after all, he had figured out the magnitude of his feelings for you when you two were only twelve years old.

His feelings, evidently, did not like the confinement either as they only seemed to grow in size over the years. It was not a mere twelve-year-old crush anymore, and he knew that. Perhaps that was why his tongue always collapsed at the weight of it, why he couldn’t vocalize it.

It was a bit ironic, really, how flirty he could be with everyone else and barely mean the sweet words tumbling out of his mouth but when it was you, he couldn’t verbalize even the most sincere, genuine feelings. His flirtatious jokes always seemed to fly right past your head as you shook them off to just be “Jere being Jere”.

“Alright, red or blue?” You questioned, holding both of your tops up. You raised your eyebrows at the golden-haired boy sprawled on your bed, his arms supporting his weight as he leaned back.

“Hmm,” he pretended to be deep in thought with a half-smile on his face. “You’re going to look smokin’ hot in either, so…” He finished with a soft shrug of his shoulders, trying his best to maintain his easy-going facade, even in this situation.

Even when he is helping you pick out something to wear to a date with someone other than him.

“Jere,” you said with a straight face to drive home the seriousness of this situation. This was not the time for jokes.

“Seriously, though,” he sat up as he ran a hand through his hair with nonchalance, “You could wear a potato sack to this thing and your date would still be drooling the entire time. In fact,” he stood up, pretending to walk towards the door, “I think Mom might have one in the pantry. I can go check–”

“Jer!” you grabbed his arm as you tried your best to smother a laugh at his antics and pushed him back on the bed. “Please. Which one?”

He pouted a little as he considered the options, pretending once again to be uber-serious about this. Without meaning to, he found his eyes leaving the red and blue tops you were holding up and wandering to your face. He took it in like he had all the time in the world.

“Red,” he said with an easy smile, which he was glad to see you return with the same ease. If this was all it took to make you smile like that, then he would be more than happy choosing your outfits for an eternity. “You look gorgeous in red. But, any guy would be lucky to see you in either.”

You grinned a little at his flattery and tried to ignore how his compliments made your stomach twist with something that you were all too familiar with when it came to Jeremiah and his sweet talk. “Well then, lucky you, you’ve won the lottery today. You’ve seen me in both.”

He chuckled as he shook his head slightly. “Yeah. Lucky me.”

And he tried his best to ignore the faint pang in his chest as he watched you turn away to face the mirror and fix your hair before going into the bathroom to change tops.

He watched you close the bathroom door and he chewed on his lip nervously – which was not something he normally did. Rip the band-aid off, he found himself thinking. Just tell her.

“[Y/N]?”

“Yeah?” Your muffled voice came from within the bathroom and Jeremiah had to lean against the bathroom door to be able to muster up the courage that he required at this moment.

“I just–” he began, looking down at his feet with one hand against the door and the other on his hip. “I just wanted you to know that…”

“What is it? Is Max here already?” You questioned and he stopped in his tracks when he heard the excitement in your voice.

He could never bring himself to admit it but some wicked, evil part of him wanted your date to go horribly. A small part of him even considered telling you to show him more options for your outfit tonight because he had simply changed his mind about the red, fully knowing that doing this would make you very late to the movie you’re supposed to leave for in a few minutes.

But he also knew, somewhere deep down, that those small, wicked parts of him could easily be triumphed by the larger part of him that just wanted you to be happy. And if someone else could do that for you, then he would let them. Every single time.

“No,” he shook his head and exhaled deeply. “No, I just hope you have fun tonight.”

You opened your door finally and stepped out with a small smile, wearing the red top that he insisted upon. “Thanks, Jere.”

“See?” he teased with a small smirk, “I told you red’s the move.” He winked playfully as he brought a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes and walked once again to your mirror, trying to fix hair that already looked perfect. “What would I do without your brilliant fashion advice?” Maybe it had simply been the frequency of his compliments or the flirty glint in his eye every time he said them, but you had long learned not to take any of what Jeremiah said to heart. He would compliment anything that breathed with the same sincerity.

Jeremiah watched you walk out that evening with a bitter taste in his mouth because you did look gorgeous in red. You looked drop-dead stunning.

And try as he might to tell you of that fact, you wouldn’t really believe it when it came from him. You’d only believe it when it came from someone else.

—

“I am not drunk!” You yelled with finality in your tone and a stance that conveyed utmost defiance.

Well, as defiant as you could possibly look when you were clearly swaying a little with a bottle in hand and slurring your words. You could barely keep your eyes open.

“Okay,” Conrad decided to humour you as he snatched your bottle out of your hands and replaced it with a cup of water. “Drink this anyway.”

“You’re no fun,” You tell Conrad with a pout and he rolls his eyes at you before continuing his deperate search for Jeremiah. All he found were more drunk teenagers, flashing lights and blaring speakers. “Party-pooper.” You accuse.

Conrad wasn’t sure when he had been put on babysitting duty but when he had seen you, drunk out of your mind, climb onto a table and start belting out Beyonce, he knew his help was needed. And though you normally got along with Conrad just fine, with him being just like a big brother to you, he knew that he needed to find Jeremiah to take you home. He was the designated driver, after all.

“Do you know where Jere is?”

“Debbie-downer.” You spat out to Conrad, who couldn’t care less about your conniving insults.

“Seriously, have you seen Jere?” He questioned again and pushed you to take a sip of your water.

“Conrad the killjoy,” you laughed at your own joke a little and Conrad sighed heavily, desperate for someone to take you off his hands.

“Killjoy is spelt with a K, you know.”

“Yeah, well, then so is Konrad.”

Jeremiah, who had been upstairs, knew at once something was wrong when he glanced at his phone and saw 6 missed calls from Conrad and a frantic text from Belly. As he made his way downstairs, he could see you standing with a pout on your face and your arms crossed like a child, with a very exasperated Conrad standing next to you. Jeremiah smiled a little at the sight of your ruffled hair and his brother’s tired look.

“What’s going on here?” He asked finally after reaching the bottom of the stairs and looping one of your arms around his neck to support you to keep you standing upright.

“Finally,” Conrad mumbled under his breath. “You should take her home. Be careful, though,” Conrad cast you a sarcastic look. “She might start spelling your name with a G.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and Conrad continued, “I’ll take a cab with Steven and Belly.”

“No, I’ll take a cab,” You interject pointedly, “You should really drive him home, Jere.”

“Alright, alright,” Jeremiah consoled and held back a snort at Conrad’s unamused expression, “I’ll drive you home first, okay? You’re my favourite out of the two of you, after all.”

As soon as you two stepped out of the house, the cold night air whipped your face and blew your hair back and you found yourself enjoying every second of it. You kept an arm looped around Jeremiah and raised the other one to cheer loudly. You felt warm and bubbly from the inside and your head was spinning in the best way possible. You never wanted this night to end.

“Shhh,” Jeremiah shushed you in between chuckles. “You’re going to wake the entire neighbourhood up.”

“Yeah, so?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “They should not be sleeping right now. There’s a party going on!”

Jeremiah looked at you with incredulous eyes and an amused expression on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time you had gotten this drunk. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten that drunk and he had some really wild stories up his sleeve. He smiled to himself as he looked down at the ground. You looked cute when you were so drunk that you had no filter. It was a nice change.

“Alright, come on,” he ushered you into the car when you finally reached it. “All arms and legs inside the vehicle, please.”

“Okay, but I’m not wearing a seatbelt,” you protested as you settled into the passenger seat. Your body relaxed instantly upon making contact with the comfortable seats of the Jeep and you struggled to keep your eyes open as sleep threatened to overcome your senses completely.

“Yes, you are,” Jeremiah countered instantly and grabbed the seat belt buckle. He leaned across your sprawled body in the passenger seat to fasten it and you suddenly could not ignore the frenzy of butterflies in your stomach. He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your neck and even in your drunk state, your cheeks burned at the proximity. He fastened the seatbelt with a click and straightened back out with an amused smile once again. “I see what you did there.” He smirked before shutting your car door.

You waited for him to get into the driver’s seat before pressing urgently with a furrow in your eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“You really couldn’t have put it on by yourself?” He teased with his hands set on the steering wheel.

“Ugh, gross,” you groaned as you realized that you felt all warm and bubbly inside for an entirely different reason now. “I did not do that so you could do that.”

Jeremiah responded with a chuckle and a small ‘sure’, which made you eager to defend your side of the story even more.

“I’m not lying.”

“Admit it, I’m irresistible.” He mocked with an exaggerated hair flip.

“Seriously,” you clarified as you sat up. “Maybe I just wanted to smell your hair.”

Jeremiah’s howls of laughter at this innocent yet glaringly honest confession confused you to no end, as you squinted at him. You were still unsure of what was so funny about that fact. His hair did smell nice.

“Drunk you is really bad at flirting,” Jeremiah said with a playful lilt in his tone, which perfectly masked his true feelings at the moment. He wished, more than anything, that you would flirt with him for real. But he also knew that you didn’t see him that way, and maybe you never really would. It was cathartic in a way to tease you so relentlessly. It almost made it feel real to him.

“I’m not flirting,” you claimed once again. “And, you really shouldn’t be flirting with me either, you know.” You said offhandedly, not thinking much about what you were saying.

Jeremiah’s smile instantly dropped at your remark. “What do you mean?” he mustered up, already feeling horribly guilty. He braced himself for what he knew was to come – he was sure that you were about to tell him that your boyfriend had brought it up with you. Max probably felt threatened and –

“Gigi,” you said softly. “I saw you two go up into that room.” And it was true. You had seen them together and your heart had dropped. Despite the fact that you had your actual boyfriend beside you for most of the night, you couldn't help but feel betrayed at the sight of Jeremiah with someone else. You quickly pushed the feeling out of your head and grabbed the nearest drink, finding the only solace from your broken heart in your drunk state.

Jeremiah’s head was suddenly spinning as he clutched the steering wheel tighter and tried to take a quick look at you before setting his eyes back on the road. He tried to dismiss the thoughts in his brain that were ecstatic at the faint jealous tone in your sentence.

“No, no,” he shook his head. Jeremiah desperately tried to find the words to tell you that Gigi and him had only talked – how he had made it clear that he wasn’t looking for anything romantic with her. “Gigi and I–”

“It’s fine, Jere, really,” you affirmed as you tried to shoot him a small smile. “You don’t have to lie to me. I just… We’re both with different people now and you’re my best friend so maybe you and I should just… dial it back a little, I don’t know.”

Just as quickly as those ecstatic thoughts had rushed into his head, they now fled. It became clear to him now that this was about Max. You were not jealous. You probably didn’t care about him and Gigi at all. He tried to regain his composure as he cracked a small smile.

“Yeah,“ he agreed quietly. “Your boyfriend probably thinks I’m in love with you or something.” He tried to joke but the attempt was weak at best.

“Yeah,” you half-smiled in agreement. “Gigi probably thinks I’m in love with you.” You spared a glance at him for a moment too long, causing him to look back. You cleared your throat hurriedly, “Or something.”

Jeremiah focused on the road that stretched out in front of him as he willed himself not to look back at you. It would’ve been easy to rip off the band-aid then, to just blurt out his true feelings and leave you to deal with the aftermath. He knew it would’ve been easy but he also knew that it would’ve been incredibly selfish.

With a lapse in self-control, he risked a glance at you and found you sound asleep, with your eyes shut in what he could only imagine as blissful slumber. He smiled as he turned his eyes back on the road. He was glad that at least one of you two would be sleeping so soundly tonight.

—

The breakup had been surprisingly easy. The aftermath, however, had been the exact opposite.

When Max had dumped you two days before the deb ball, you hadn’t thought much of it. Your relationship was barely three weeks old and you were really only waiting for the shoe to drop. When it finally did, you felt almost relieved. You were practically yawning through Max’s “it’s not you, it’s me” routine.

That feeling of freedom and relief were quickly snatched from you when you realized just how bad Max’s timing was. With the deb ball two days away, you were left with no date and absolutely no prospects. Conrad was going with Belly already, Steven with Shayla and you didn’t need to ask Jere to know what he would say to being your escort. That guy had sworn off balls years ago.

“Maybe you could just, like, be a group of three with us,” suggested Belly with a hopeful smile plastered on her face. “Conrad wouldn’t mind… I don’t think.”

You gave her an unamused look as you buried your head in your pillows. “Do we know the same Conrad?”

“Fine, then what do you suggest?” Belly questioned as she flopped onto your bed as well. “You’re really going to go alone?”

“What choice do I have?”

“You could ask J–.”

“Absolutely not,” you countered right away. There was no way you were going to ask him, especially considering how you knew his answer already. No matter the reasons behind it, a rejection from him would still hurt.

“Why not?” Belly whined. “He’s perfect for you. I’m sure he can make an exception to his rule if you were to ask.”

You raised your head to squint at Belly. “Why would he make an exception for me?”

“You know why.”

“No, I do not.” You tried to ignore the burning in your cheeks once again.

“You’re so childish, [Y/N],” Belly sighed. “That guy’s been in love with you since you two were like toddlers.”

“That is simply not true,” you muttered, wishing that Belly would drop the subject altogether. “Next!” You announced only to be met with a groan from Belly.

After countless suggestions and exhausted minds, Belly suggested that you take the easy way out of this mess.

“Just call Max,” she whined, running a tired hand over her face. “Tell him he still has to take you to the ball and then you two can go your separate ways or whatever.”

And so, you had. You had called Max at the opportune hour of 2 AM and he had agreed before making sure that ‘there was absolutely no romantic subtext attached to this, right?’ You had scoffed at what he was trying to imply. As if.

It was that eventful night’s ingenious brainstorming which had landed you in this mess today.

The ball was about to start in five minutes and all you could do was stare at the curt text that Max had sent you a minute ago. You read over it again and again in feeble hopes that that would make it seem more insignificant – like if you read it enough times, it would somehow be less humiliating.

But the truth of the matter was that Max had bailed on you at the very last minute – literally – and your name was about to be announced, summoning you and your escort to the stage. You looked around desperately, in hopes that perhaps you could send someone else ahead of you or if worst comes to worst, slip out of the back door yourself but none of those options seemed particularly feasible. As you looked at the other side of the stage, where Max was supposed to be standing, you saw nothing but darkness.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N],” the announcer called with his booming voice. “Daughter of…” It had suddenly become hard to breathe in your flowing dress and you were sure that your makeup had practically melted off your face by now. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in. It’s fine, you told yourself, repeating it like a chant. I’m fine.

You took small steps forward, trying desperately to sync them with your breathing to avoid any disasters until you were standing on stage with a bouquet in your hand and no date by your side. You forced a smile on your face but it evidently did not look as convincing as you wanted it to as a few murmurs broke out amongst the crowd. You scanned the crowd until your eyes landed on your table, with a concerned looking Susannah and a horrified looking Laurel. Your own mother’s expression was a mixture of both.

“[Y/N] attends…” even the announcer trailed off as he peered behind the stage to check where your escort had gone.

“Sorry!” Jeremiah appeared suddenly at your side, announcing his apology to the whole crowd. “I had to use the bathroom. Had too much to drink.” He smiled apologetically to the announcer before turning to you to send you a wink. He flashed one of his dashing smiles and offered you his arm before turning back to the crowd to pose for photos. You blinked a few times to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

“What are you doing?” you whispered to him as quietly as you could manage. You were well acquainted with Jere’s ‘no balls’ policy. Clearly, everyone else was too, as the murmurs in the crowd did not die down as he appeared by your side on the stage. They only seemed to grow, with some surprised and others outraged.

“Being your knight in shining armour, what do you think I’m doing?” he whispered back with a smug smile. He was seriously considering sending Max a gift hamper for letting him have this opportunity.

“Jere,” you began again. “You really don’t have to. Seriously, I’m fi–”

“Shhh,” he cut you off, gently tapping your arm. “Face the front and let everyone see how jaw-droppingly beautiful you look in white.”

“I thought red was ‘the move’ on me?” You retorted with a small smile. This guy really was an angel sent from above.

“You could wear anything and it would be ‘the move’,” he told you matter-of-factly with a small smirk as he kept facing the cameras. “Although…”

“What?”

“I’m sure you could wear nothing and it would still be ‘the move’.”

“Shut up!” You reprimanded with a shocked laugh. You were used to his flirting but he had never been quite as forward before. Jeremiah stifled a few chuckles as cameras kept flashing. Finally, the announcer gestured for you two to walk forward to stand on the dance floor as the last few debutantes got their time on the stage.

You took your place standing beside Belly and Conrad and couldn’t help but shake your head as Belly turned to smile at you. Her grin was so big you feared it would split her face in half.

“Told you he’d make an exception,” she mouthed slowly, making sure that you understood each word she’s intending for you. Conrad smirked silently, watching the two of you standing together. Even Steven waved to grab your attention to wriggle his eyebrows at you suggestively. You rolled your eyes at them all.

“What’s Belly saying?” Jeremiah peered from behind you at the smiling girl.

“Nothing,” you cleared your throat. “She’s just surprised you’re doing this. With your infamous ‘no balls’ policy and all.”

Jeremiah let out a small ‘ah’ as he nodded in understanding with a small smile on his face.

“So,” you pressed on with raised eyebrows. “Why are you doing this?” You bid your time with bated breaths as you waited for his answer to come. You really hoped it was the answer you wanted to hear.

“Because I look ridiculously handsome in a tux,” he joked half-heartedly. A storm was raging within him and he had no idea what answer to give you.

“No other reason?” you questioned hesitantly.

Jeremiah knew that this was as good of a time as any. He could finally just tell you. He could rip the band-aid off and never look back again. Max was out of the picture now, clearly, as he abandoned you tonight. Gigi had never been in the picture at all. He had no reasons to keep the truth from you anymore. He had always stopped himself in the past with your happiness in mind. But now, standing beside you and remembering the elated smile that you had given him when he ran onto the stage to be beside you, he was sure that he could make you happy.

He knew he would choose your happiness every single time. Only this time, he’s choosing his own too.

“And, because,” he started with a shaky breath that seemed too uncharacteristic of him. His teasing demeanour had dropped altogether. “I just… Shit. I want you to know that–”

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer boomed, causing everyone to turn back to look at him.

You kept your eyes on Jere as you pressed on. “Know what?”

“I…”

“Can all escorts make their way to the dance floor, please?”

Jeremiah sighed heavily as he realized he had run out of time. “I’ll tell you later, okay?” He squeezed your hand and pressed a dramatic kiss to it. “For now, prepare to be amazed by my dancing skills.”

Except, there was no ‘later’ that night. Jeremiah had no idea how quickly the night would turn sour for him, all because of a simple email that he wasn’t meant to see.

—

Jeremiah loved the beach. He wasn’t sure when the obsession with the feel of the sand running through his fingers or the sound of the tumultuous waves had started but his favourite memories of his childhood always included beaches.

They also always included his mom.

In his mind’s eye, he could see countless times when Susannah had been lounging on a chair with a large sun hat draping her eyes and the sun beating down on her while he and Conrad surfed in the water. He remembered how Susannah used to seat him on her lap, while Conrad ran around chasing seagulls, claiming he was ‘far too old to sit on laps’.

“Your eyes remind me of the ocean, Jere,” Susannah would tell him as she held the little boy in her arms. “They’re so blue. So pretty.” He would smile at her mother’s affection and bat his eyes at her dramatically, which always made her erupt into giggles.

He couldn’t remember when these frequent trips to the beach with his mom had become so rare. As he sat on the sand now, looking out into the ocean, he couldn’t help but smile sadly. He had no idea if he could have another beach trip with her. He had no idea how much time he would be able to have with her at all.

The sky was painted a somber gray as a storm threatened to rage in the distance. He could feel a few drops on his skin as he took the ocean in. Early mornings at the beach always held a different type of allure for him.

“Hey,” you tapped his shoulder gently, careful not to startle him.

He turned around at once, with a smile on his face. Your heart broke a little at the sight. Jeremiah had always presented himself as an easy-going guy. He was cheerful at all times, always concerned with bringing a genuine smile to others’ faces before worrying about the genuinity of his own emotions.

“Hey,” he smiled but his eyes didn’t exactly translate. They didn't gleam like they usually did.

“How are you?” you asked hesitantly as you took a seat beside him, nudging his shoulder lightly. “How are you, really?”

“Fine, I guess,” he said with a gulp and a bitter smile. Both of you sat in silence for a while as the only sounds heard were the waves in the distance.

“She loves you a lot, you know,” Jeremiah broke the silence, turning to look at you. He held your eyes as he continued. “She never stops talking about you." He shook his head fondly. "Especially when I’m there.”

You give him a small smile before furrowing your eyebrows playfully. “Why ‘especially when you’re there’?”

“She always wanted us to be together,” Jere said without thinking about it too much. He didn’t risk a glance at you as he continued as honestly as he possibly could. “I think she’s been planning our wedding ever since I gave you that rose to put in your hair when we were, like, ten years old.” He laughed softly at the thought.

“Really?” You asked incredulously as heat started creeping up your neck. Jeremiah couldn’t help but smirk at you as he could see how flustered you grew with every second.

And that gave him the strength to finally rip the band-aid off.

“Yeah,” he nodded once as he turned away to look at the water again. “I’ve been planning our wedding for much longer, though.”

You smiled at his flirting as you shook your head but when you looked at his face, your smile dropped completely. He held your eyes and your breath hitched in your throat as you noticed how devoid of playfulness they were. You gulped as you opened your mouth to say something but couldn’t find anything. You were, quite literally, speechless.

“I think I knew it at six years old,” Jeremiah continued quietly as he kept his eyes on you. It was too late to turn back. No matter the outcome, he had to rip it off. “It was pretty silly then. I was already convinced I was your boyfriend.” He smiled at the memory. “And then at twelve, when we were watching the Notebook with Mom and Laurel and your mom, I remember peeking over at you and just knowing. I knew that you were my Allie. If I had to write letters to some girl for 365 days in a row, it would be you. Every single time. If I had to hang off a ferris wheel to get your attention, I would do that, too. And I hate ferris wheels.” He deadpanned in hopes of earning a laugh from you but you sat there, dumbfounded.

“Wh–?” You tried to get out but Jeremiah stopped you. He needed to get all of this out. He took your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before running his thumb across it.

“I knew that I was a total goner, though, when other guys started getting your attention and I still didn’t say anything,” he continued honestly. “I couldn’t bring myself to. I wanted you so, so bad but most of all, I just wanted you to be happy. And if Max made you happy or that creepy guy from the gas station that you dated for like four hours made you happy, then I would let them. I still just want you to be happy. And I get it if you don’t like me in that way–” he tried to clarify before you cut him off.

“You make me happy, Jere,” you managed to get out with utmost sincerity. It felt as if your heart was about to burst. “You’ve always made me the happiest. Not Max and definitely not the creepy gas station guy.”

“Yeah?” He asked as his heart skipped a beat.

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a nod as your cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. Jeremiah’s eyes scanned your face then, just as he had always scanned your face – with love, with patience. This time, though, he was pleased to see you scan his face the same way. And none of you were trying to hide it anymore. The band-aid had finally come off.

“Do I have permission to kiss the bride, then?” he asked quietly as his eyes landed on your lips, both of you leaning towards each other.

“Depends,” you smirked. “I need to see the wedding plans first. I don’t trust any plans that you’ve made.” Jeremiah chuckled and his breath fanned across your face. “Especially if they were made by six-year-old you.”

“You sure?” he teased. “A LEGO wedding sounds pretty nice. Six-year-old me had some great ideas.”

“Shut up,” you laughed against his lips before finally leaning over to close the space.

It was hard to think as your lips met his pillow-soft ones. He kissed you senseless as he brought a soft hand to your jaw to pull you impossibly closer. He tasted so incredibly sweet and he smelled of the ocean and mint and something so indescribably Jere – so familiar yet so exhilarating. Your hands found the hair at the nape of his neck and you tugged them absentmindedly, making Jeremiah smirk into the kiss. It would be an understatement to say this was better than he could ever imagine in his dreams. It was like a shot of adrenaline for him to be so close to you, and he found himself wondering how he survived his whole life without it before.

You pulled away when you felt the first drop of rain land on your face and he looked up as he smiled. Of course it had started to rain. How very the Notebook of the universe. He looked back down to you and smirked as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“By the way,” you smiled at him. “I knew you were my Noah, too. If there was one guy I had to keep coming back to, no matter what, it would be you. Always.”

He exhaled with relief and happiness and excitement and – quite possibly every emotion he could feel at that moment. “It’s only fitting for us to recreate the rain scene, then,” he flashed a smile as he tried to calm his thumping heart, adding a wink for good measure.

You told him to shut up for the second time that day and he dutifully obeyed. He wasn’t that interested in talking, anyway.

And, Jeremiah knew the next few months were going to be difficult. But for a moment, here with you, everything seemed alright. And he knew that it eventually would be, as long as he has you by his side.

#fic rec #adore

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lemon-jellybelly · 2 years

Text

he's so pretty when he goes down on me (gold-skinned eager baby, blue shirt out the laundry)

Waking up early is only good for one thing: Conrad's undivided attention in all of the best ways.

Title from the song "Touch Tank" by Quinnie / crossposted to ao3

Early morning, misty-grey summer light filtered through the window curtains, brightening the space just enough for you to make out the details of the furniture across the room. You weren't sure what had woken you up, but the atmosphere was peaceful, and you were perfectly comfortable in your current position.

Conrad was curled against your back, fitting you neatly into his chest, hips, the bend of his knees. An arm was draped loosely across your waist and there was a dual tickle at the back of your neck, strands of his hair and open lips both brushing lightly against your skin. A single sheet laid over you; in addition to the warm night, Conrad's body acted as your own personal space heather. Silence and still air cocooned you both, encapsulating you in your own bubble. Moments like these were your favorite, when you could almost believe that the entire world was just for you two.

You fought the urge to stretch, not wanting to disturb Conrad. He was so ethereal when sleeping; you had to twist your neck to an uncomfortable degree, but it was worth it to catch a glimpse of his mussed-up hair and barely parted lips. Smiling, you resituated your head onto the pillow, content to luxuriate in being held by him. But despite your efforts, the shuffling broke through Conrad's light sleep. You could feel him stir awake behind you, hear the way his breathing shifted ever so slightly, a particularly intimate knowledge that plucked at your heart strings.

"Morning," He murmured into your ear. His voice was gravelly with sleep, and the rasp resonated with a twinge in your pelvis. You hummed, covering his hand with your own and using an index finger to draw light abstract shapes on his skin.

"Morning." You echoed quietly, reaching for your phone to check the time. "It's still so early."

"Good." He said, lips pressing against the soft spot below your ear. "I don't want to get up yet."

"Me neither. I'd stay in bed all day with you if I could."

"That sounds," he interrupted his sentence with another kiss at the back of your neck, "like a perfect day." In reaction to the shiver he sent down your spine, you dug your nails lightly into the skin just below his knuckles. Conrad's own response to the unspoken conversation was to bury his face further into the side of your neck, finding the seam where throat met clavicle and peppering the skin with kisses of varied pressure.

You were certainly more awake now and beginning to give in to your body's reaction to Conrad. He was still on his side facing you when you finally shifted onto your back to be able to see him. His eyes were beguiling, flickering over your face, and you felt almost compelled to touch him, raising a hand to smooth his hair back and trailing it down to cup his jaw.

"Hi," You whispered, stroking your fingers under his chin. You felt the muscles move in his face as he grinned lazily at you. His own hand came up to circle your wrist, thumb tracing over your pulse point. He simply had to feel the way your heart sped up every time he touched you.

"Hi," He echoed softly. You soaked in the silence for a moment, lost in each other’s eyes, before he began to dip his head down towards you. He was unhurried to the point that he rested his forehead against yours and simply let his hot breath hit your lips, but you were aching for it, tilting your head back in attempt to bring your mouth even closer to his. The tinge of desperation in your uneven exhales finally swayed him and you were rewarded as Conrad deliberately caught your lower lip between his.

He kissed you with fervor, his open mouth hot against yours, an arm on either side of your head caging you in. Your senses were on fire and all you could see, hear, smell, touch, taste, was Conrad, the absolute center of your universe.

You whimpered audibly at the loss when he pulled away to sit up and kneel between your legs. Conrad looked angelic backlit by the blaze of the rising sun, his golden hair illuminated and a hazy glow cast around his body. His frame was still hidden beneath his navy Cousins Beach t-shirt, but you were so familiar with the shape of him that your eyes could trace his contours even through the fabric. Based on the trajectory of his gaze, Conrad was imagining you the same way, fantasizing about your curves underneath the shirt you wore - which was also his, this one a faded remnant from a long-ago surf competition.

As his eyes moved farther down your body, you fiddled with the hem of the shirt, pulling it up slowly to expose your thighs, your panties, lower abdomen. You heard Conrad's breath hitch and saw the corresponding tick in his throat, but when you went to remove the shirt fully, he stopped you.

"Leave it on." He instructed huskily. "You look so sexy in my clothes." You looked down at him through your eyelashes, reveling in the way his expression had darkened with lust.

"I'll have to wear them more often, then." You teased sweetly, letting your arms fall to your sides.

He groaned. "If you do, you’re going to get sick of me touching you."

You arched an eyebrow. "I could never.”

"Promise?"

“Absolutely.” You whispered.

“Good. Because I’ll never get sick of it, either,” he admitted, shuffling to the edge of the bed so that he could lean forward and rest on his elbows. “Touching you is my favorite thing to do." Without waiting for a response, he settled between your legs and directed his attention to your body.

You could only gasp quietly as he made contact. His jaw was lax as he nuzzled into your inner thigh, pressing feathery kisses there. The tips of his nose and eyelashes fluttered against the sensitive skin as well, making warmth reverberate in your stomach. His mouth trailed up to the apex of your thigh, ghosting over your panties to continue down the other leg.

"Con," You whimpered quietly, combing your fingers through his silky hair.

"I know," he murmured, continuing on just as painfully slowly. "It's okay, just let me make you feel good." You mewled appreciatively, dropping a hand to knead his shoulder gently. The muscle contracted beneath your fingers, tensing then almost instantly relaxing into your touch.

His own hands skimmed up the backs of your thighs, propping them up to ensure he had the best angle possible to tease you. His palms warmed your skin from behind and his mouth from the front, culminating in a heat between your legs that bordered on comforting and overwhelming. Your body was beginning to react in earnest, hips inching off the bed to meet Conrad's mouth, thighs clenching only to be gently peeled apart once again.

"Keep 'em open for me," he instructed.

You pressed the palms of your hands into your eyes, trying to tune out the flutters of your stomach enough to speak. "I'm trying," you promised. But the careful avoidance of the most sensitive parts of your body was truly becoming unbearable.

You weren't even aware of the near-constant whimpers falling from your lips until Conrad heard and took pity on you, resting his chin atop your thigh. "Poor baby," he said, pouting in a mostly sincere but partly sardonic display. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

There was a moment of intense relief when his tongue finally swept over your hot skin and made contact with your throbbing clit. But the feeling of bliss was short lived: Conrad was content to continue at the same leisurely pace as before, taking his sweet time to kiss, lick, suck you. His touch was intentional and determined yet soft and gentle, like he knew the limits of your delicate body.

"Oh my God, Con," you moaned, fighting the urge to clamp your thighs around his head. Instead, you rested a foot on his shoulder blade, unwittingly nudging him deeper into you as you curled your toes into the fabric of his shirt. You smoothed his hair behind his ear with your opposite hand, letting your fingers linger at the crown of his head. "Oh, please, baby," you whined. "You're so good, feels so good."

Emboldened by the encouragement, he spread your legs just a bit further and used his thumbs to do the same to your pussy. He moved at the same speed, but now he was able to nudge his tongue deeper inside you, making you squeak and tremble below him.

The entire act was relaxed, the room around you tranquil, the bond between you easy and loving and without expectation. You felt comfortable in your skin and your contact with Conrad in a way that transcended sexuality. Which is why you were so surprised when your body suddenly tipped into orgasm, your muscles tensing and breath quickening.

Conrad pulled back slightly to rest his face on your thigh again, pressing his wet lips to the skin as he watched you climax. "That's it," he cooed. "Good girl, let it go." One hand stroked your inner thigh soothingly, the other moving to rest palm-up on your stomach. Almost immediately, you slipped your hand over his, intertwining your fingers together.

As your heart rate slowed to normal and your limbs relaxed, you lolled your head to the side. Letting out a low exhale, you made eye contact with Conrad.

"You okay?" He asked softly.

You smirked ever-so slightly and reached out a thumb to trace his swollen lips and down the curve of his still-slick chin. "I'm fantastic." He grinned, kissing the tip of your thumb. "Come here," you said.

He was eye-level with you in seconds and you kissed him needily, sucking the remnants of your own taste off his tongue until he felt you stifle a yawn. Conrad flopped onto his back and hugged you into his chest once again. "Falling back asleep on me already?"

"Sorry," you said through another yawn, your body feeling weightless as you settled in. “That took a lot out of me.”

He let out a soft snort of laughter. “Me, too, baby. But it’s still early. Let's just lay here a little while longer." If you weren't so exhausted, you would've sprawled beside him imagining yourselves waking up to each other for the rest of your lives. But that could wait. Right now, with Conrad's nimble fingers skimming down your back and his heartbeat drumming in your ear, you fell right back asleep.

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