#Jericho crowe Ichabod | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nagaytoe · 2 days ago

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Fatum

(Latin) [noun] Fate

Jericho Ichabod X Reader

Word Count: 4k

Requests: Open

TWs/Tags: Death, poison, corrupt gods, fate, existential crisis (?), PAST LIVE THEORY

Note: This was inspired by an audio from 'Dangerously yours', the past life theory and one of my favorite books 'Midnight Library'!!

(Hopefully this won't be a flop otherwise i may or may not go loca)

Tags: @sagegreen31

“Look! A shooting star!”

Crowe’s delicate finger pointed towards the night sky above you, as you felt the blades of grass tickle your neck.

Indeed there was, there was a bright star, brighter than any you’ve seen so far, making its way over the horizon. You couldn’t help but wonder where it’s path may lead it.

“Did you make a wish?”

You turned your head, facing Crowe, his hair spread over the ground in silky brunette locks, free from his signature braid.

Humming, you answer in a whisper, “I have.”

Now he turns his head to you too, the gash on his neck stretching as he does, causing you to grimace a little.

“What is it you have wished for?”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you gave him a bittersweet smile.

“I wished we were two other people, two people who need not say goodbye…”

Blood stained Crowe’s neck and the once lush, green grass beneath him.

He gave you a sad smile in response, reaching out to clutch your left hand with his right one.

“I am sure your wish will be fulfilled, my Love.”

Your brows furrowed at his comment, unable to grasp the meaning behind his words. Crowe chuckled slightly, softly squeezing your hand in his larger one, though the warmth it once carried was long gone.

“The tree,” Crowe pointed towards the tree which loomed over the two of you. “Do you remember what I told you about it?”

Pondering for a moment, you looked up at the tree’s branches, which partly obscured the view of the clear sky with stars scattered all over.

“Lily’s myth?”

“Yes, of the healing abilities the fruits bear.”

“Or of how poisonous they might be.”

Crowe sighed, but he was far from annoyed at your comment as a small smile played on his lips. “Nevertheless, it is the place where humans allegedly have come in touch with gods, it should be worth a try. Perhaps you will be fortunate enough to receive audience with one of this country’s patrons.”

“I was under the impression you did not believe in gods.”

Your remark makes him chuckle softly. “I do not, no. However, in this plane, where we currently find ourselves in, things might work differently. Who is to say that no one will answer your prayers?”

As you took a look around, everything seemed normal. It looked the same way it did yesterday evening, which was the happiest night of your life. Memories of Crowe’s soft lips upon yours made your heart flutter, the joy was short-lived however, for soon you remembered the predicament you both found yourselves in just several moments ago.

Blood had been everywhere, on the floor, on the walls, on Crowe’s body.

You had crouched down next to his body, wailing for your deceased lover, though it would not take long for you to join him in the afterlife. Perhaps it was better this way, for you did not wish to live in a world without him anyways.

“My Love, I believe our time is coming to a close.” Directing your attention back to Crowe, you noticed that he, as well as the park surrounding you, slowly faded away.

“No.” You felt panic rising up in your stomach as you sat up. “I won’t lose you… not again. I don’t know what will become of me without you, Crowe…”

“My Love, you will find me again, that I am sure of. We may not have been fortunate enough to be able to love each other in this life, but there must be one where we are granted this luxury.” He reached out to cup your cheek with his hand, but it passed right through you, unable to make contact with your skin. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to hold onto him, but to no avail. Your heart clenched painfully in your chest and it seemed as though it might implode.

“Crowe, don’t go, please…”

He gave you a sad smile, tears of his own streaming down his face. “I love you, in this life, every life before and every life to come.”

With that he vanished. It was as if he had never been here in the first place. You looked around, an endless sea of nothingness engulfing the surrounding area..

Suddenly, a voice was heard, loud and clear as if right next to you, it’s echo carried far in this empty plane.

“You bear a wish, my Child?”

Your head snapped into all possible directions but you failed to find any trace of another being in this space. “What?”

The voice was soothing, responding to you in a calm and quiet manner.

“You have wished upon a shooting star, have you not?”

The shooting star… was Crowe right after all? You looked to the side, seeing Lilith’s tree solely standing in all it’s glory amidst the darkness, which made it look awfully out of place.

“I may be able to grant your wish, if only you reveal what it is you long for.”

Something manifested behind you, the glow it emitted catching your attention. You turn around to find the silhouette of a woman, except for her luminescence she bears no features, as if she was but a mere shadow.

Clenching your fists a your sides, you took a deep breath before speaking your wish aloud.

“I wish for a life where Jericho Ichabod and I can be happily together.”

If only the woman had features, you could see her frown. However, the slight change to a more sorrowful tone in her melodic voice was telling enough.

“Oh, my poor Child, I am afraid this is the one wish I cannot grant you.”

The crack which struck your glass-like heart was almost audible as your breath caught in your throat. “Why?”

“It is not within my abilities to redirect fate.”

Your heart fully shattered, the pieces it left cutting into your lungs and robbing you entirely of your breath.

“What?” The question was uttered breathlessly, as if air was refusing to further fill your lungs.. “Are you implying we are not fated to be with each other?”

“I mean just that. There is no timeline in which you two may have the liberty of being together.”

The woman might as well have ripped your heart out and shredded it to pieces, instead it was left to shatter within the confines of your chest, behind a wall of flesh, muscles and bone. Oh, how you longed to rip open your ribcage and take out your very own heart in order to never feel pain of this sort ever again.

“Why!? I don’t get it! I love him, more than anything, why must I, why must we, be punished like this?!”

She fell silent for a moment at your cries and even though you could not see her facial expressions, you were certain she is pondering. “I see you fail to remember.”

Her remark almost made you recoil as you halt your bellows. “Remember what?”

“Your ancient sin. Fret not, dear Child, for I will enlighten you,” She motioned you to step closer, holding out her glowing hand. “Come to me, Child.”

Walking closer, you hesitantly laid your hand into hers, which was way colder than you would have expected it to be. “See this tree?”

You nodded in response, looking up at the giant tree. It’s the very same one under which you confessed your love for Crowe and realized the brightest star was not up above you, but right beside you.

The way Crowe looked at you, with a sparkle in his eyes as if he had plucked one of the stars from the sky above you and laced his eyes with it’s glow, was ingrained into your memories, deeply embedded into the depths of your brain where you could treasure it forever.

“You ate one of it’s forbidden fruits.” Your head snapped into the woman’s direction, a confused expression etched into your features.

“Excuse me?”

She chuckled. “Naturally, you fail to recall the event, for it took place centuries ago. Although, with your existence in this plane I would have expected you to remember. Never mind that, though.”

The woman let go of your hand and ushered you into the direction of the tree.

“Go on, my Child, pluck one of the fruits.”

Heeding her initial words, your gaze snapped back towards her. “But I thought I was not allowed to.”

“My Dear, we are no longer on the earthly plane, their rules do not apply here. Nevertheless, this tree in front of you is not the same tree, it is but a mere projection, you need not worry about possible consequences.”

Her words made you wonder, thinking deeper about something you had so blatantly disregarded.

“What is this here anyways?”

“It is the Bithalassus. The space between the mortal realm and the place where the soul goes after it perished from it’s vessel.”

A place between the realm of the living and of the dead. It made sense, but you failed to wrap your head around it, perhaps it was outside your capabilities to truly grasp this concept. “What place will my soul go to?”

“That is entirely dependent on your beliefs, my Child.” The woman assured you. “If you believe in heaven, you may go there, if you believe you ought to be reincarnated, you will wake up to a new life.”

Her words did not soothe your qualms entirely.

“I see… And what will happen if I take one of the fruits from the tree?”

“You will relive a past life, the one were you committed your ancient sin, to be exact.”

Cocking your head to the side, you tried your best to make sense of all the information she was throwing at you.

“But… won’t I be confused with all the modern world knowledge?”

“Do not worry about that. You will remember everything from your life at that time and in exchange forget everything from any other life you have lived so far. The memories of your current life will return, alongside the revelation of your sin, once you return to this space.”

You nodded and stepped towards the big tree. Looking up into it’s branches, you studied the fruits that hung from them and carefully, reluctance evident in your movements, plucked one of the fruits. A bright red apple, almost unnaturally so.

“Take a bite, won’t you?”

Hesitance laced your actions as you inched the apple towards your mouth. You were left to wonder what would await you once you took a bite, whether it would turn out to be but a mere ruse or reveal your past. As soon as you bit into the apple, your vision faded to black.

—

“Good morning, my Starlight.”

A warm, comforting voice awoke you from your slumber. Your eyes fluttered open, only to be met with deep blue ones. Neither the boisterous depths of the sea near your kingdom, nor the sky at night, littered with it’s glowing white freckles, will ever compare to the lovely shade of blue his eyes possessed.

“My Love,” wrapping your arm around him, you pulled his resting body closer to your equally still one. “Have you slept well?”

“How could I not with you next to me?”

A bright smile made it’s way to your face, the corners of your lips tugging upwards in response to his sweet words as you looked up at him. Words could barely describe how much he loved your smile, for not even the sun could compare to how it lit up any space you graced with your presence.

“My Love, I was dreaming the sweetest dream of you and I.” Jericho pressed a kiss to your forehead, resting his chin on the crown of your hair right after. “In my vision the two of us were standing at the ocean’s shore, watching the sunset. You were carrying a basket full of fruit and the two of us couldn’t help but indulge, eating one sweet apple after the other.” He chuckled, stroking the back of your head. “It felt so very peaceful.” Sighing, he pulled back to look you in the eyes with a warm smile on his lips.

“It appears we have a plan for today then.” Pressing a swift, sweet kiss to his lips, you pulled back just as quickly and rolled over in order to get out of bed.

“A plan you say?” Jericho propped himself up on his elbows as he gazed upon you with a curious expression.

“I will take care of it, worry not.” With that, you turned around and left your shared chamber, leaving your Lover dumbfounded.

Jericho heard a knock on the door to the dressing room, your voice calling out to him and asking for permission to enter. Once granted, you swung open the door, taking in the sight of your Lover cladded in different hues of purple and blue.

“Finished so soon?” He quirked an eyebrow as he walked towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his chest. Nodding, you informed Jericho that all that was left for you to do was getting dressed properly. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips before turning to leave the room, giving you enough space to change out of your nightgown.

It didn’t take long for you to put on your finest garments for a casual day out, topping your apparel off with the most astonishing jewels Jericho had given you as a courting gift.

Leaving the chamber ladened to the brim with chests, half of which contained yours and the other half Jericho’s garments, you made your way towards your fiancé, who was currently sitting on your shared bed.

“Will you tell me what awaits me, my Dear?”

His gaze wandered over you, his smile subtly widening as he took in the sight of the jewels you wore.

“You have seen it once upon a dream.”

Jericho’s smile shifted into a grin as he stood up, now towering over you.

“I cannot fathom what that may be.” You couldn’t help but smirk in return to his remark. Taking ahold of his hand, you led him through the castle.

“We will not be feasting here today.”

The revelation of this information caused his brows to furrow ever so slightly as you pushed open the door to the kitchen. You were greeted by the castle’s chef, who handed you a basket with a polite smile on his lips. His long black hair was tied up and you couldn’t help but wonder just how long it may be once released from it’s usual style.

“I take it you plan on having a picnic with me?” Confirming Jericho’s speculation, you nodded and left the castle through the back door.

Rays of sunlight beamed upon the two of you, illuminating each of your features. It felt like a warm blanket was wrapped around you, engulfing you in a familiar, comfortable feeling. The surrounding scenery was nothing short of beautiful. Lush green grass covered the ground for as far as you could see. Tall trees carried bright green leaves, which glowed with an orange tint due to the sunlight, the remnants of it filtered through the greenery and created small patterns on the ground. The sky above you was a bright blue with no cloud in sight and you couldn’t help but close your eyes, inhaling deeply and taking in the moment.

A comfortable silence befell the two of you as you walked next to your fiancé. It was one of the many things you adored so much about him.

It didn’t take long to reach the shore, merely five minutes which were spent in mostly silence, though you wouldn’t complain. You had all day to talk about all sorts of topics with your Love.

“We won’t be able to watch the sunset, it is far too early.”

You came to a halt in front of the sandbank to take off your shoes. Your feet met the warm sand as soon as your footwear left them and you looked up at Jericho who was still taking off his boots.

“We can stay here until the sun sets, my Love, we have the entire day solely for us.”

He nodded and fell into step with you, carrying both pairs of shoes in his right arms, his left was occupied by your hand slithered around his biceps.

You settled down on the soft ground a few feet away from the water and placed the basket in between the two of you.

“What did you let the chef pack for us?” You looked over and met Jericho’s gaze with a soft smile.

“A bit of everything but mostly apples, I know how much you like them.”

His eyebrows lifted a little and he pointed out your distaste for the fruit. You chuckled in response, telling him you didn’t mind, as long as he was happy.

Taking in the sight of the luscious red apples nestled in the wooden container, you licked your lips. Despite not being too fond of apples, these looked way too tantalizing to be resisted.

“Perhaps I will try one after all…” Grabbing an apple, you handed it to Jericho before getting one for yourself.

He grinned at you and nudged his apple against yours like one would when clinking glasses.

The soft crashes of the waves helped you calm down even further, almost coaxing you into complete relaxation. The two of you brought each of your apples to your lips simultaneously and took a bite.

Initially, it tasted sweet, sweeter than anything you have eaten before and you hummed in contentment. However, the taste slowly morphed into something bitter, almost making you gag and crave to spit it out. Looking over at your Lover with wide eyes, you take in his horrified expression. He was clawing at his throat, gasping for air and not too long after you did the same. No matter how deeply you tried to inhale, oxygen refused to fill your lungs.

You hunched forward, almost laying on your side as you were bound to watch the star-like light leave Jericho’s eyes as you were wounding in pain. Desperately reaching out, you tried to take his hand, but he laid just a hairbreadth too far away. You looked up at the sky, dark clouds covered the once bright blue canvas and it almost seemed macabre to you that in your last moments you were refused any source of light and comfort, whether it be through the light of your world or the light of the earth. The view up above you seemed to darken even further, until all you could see was complete darkness.

—

You shot up, sputtering and gasping for air.

“Do you understand now?”

Your head snapped towards the soothing voice of the glowing silhouette and you realized you were back in the endless plane of darkness, Bithalassus.

“The apples?” You desperately tried to make sense of your previous observations. The woman nodded in response.

“But… we didn’t steal any, they were given to us!” Your brows furrowed as you argued, refusing to believe that Crowe and you are bound to receive eternal punishment for a sin you have not committed.

“I am afraid it does not matter who stole the apples, only who ate them.”

“But you said-”

“I never confirmed any theory you mortals came up with.” The woman interrupted with an unexpected firmness in her voice, before sighing as she continued her explanation.

“My child, listen closely and I may grant you the information you crave. The fruits of Lillith’s tree are free for anyone to take, however, they must be used as an offering for the gods. I am sure you feel wronged, but it does not matter whether you knew the fruits were meant for consumption or not.”

Your eyes widened at her explanation. “This means anyone could curse whoever they please to curse!”

She nodded. “It appears so. Although, the one who dooms another soul is bound to be cursed as well.”

You raised your eyebrows, reveling in this new found information. “That means the man who did this was also cursed?”

“Indeed he was and it might be in your interest to know that he was executed the very next day as well. Tell me, did you recognize him perchance?”

Pondering for a moment, you realized you had barely paid any attention to the man, leading you to shake your head in response to her question.

“It is someone you know all to well.”

Realization dawned upon you at her statement.

“Solivan?”

The woman nodded once more. “Yes, Solivan. For the rest of his existence, in all possible timelines, he will need to suffer from unrequited love, just like how his love for you was unrequited in the life you have just witnessed.”

Fate will repeat itself over and over again, that you were almost completely sure of now.

“Does this mean Sol will always be the one to kill Crowe?”

“It means just that.”

Your gaze met the ground and you could feel rage bubbling up in your stomach. All of this was his fault and there was no way to undo what has been done.

“My wish,” your tongue darted out to lick your lips and you tried your best to keep your composure. Ugly, unfiltered anger poured out of every pore but you urged yourself to phrase your wish as calmly as possible. You looked at her face and for the first time since you came here you questioned whether she was one of the goddesses of your land just like you had assumed or if she was merely a fragment of your imagination. It shall not matter, if she was able to help you, you would take her up on her offer nevertheless.

“I wish to be aware of the sin and to recognize the one who doomed Crowe and I in every upcoming lifetime.”

With the knowledge that she could not directly interfere with fate, you hoped there was a loophole to that rule.

“If this truly is what you wish for, then I shall grant your wish.” A hint of amusement was evident in her voice and you could swear, she would smirk were she to have a mouth.

You thought of yourself as fortunate now, grateful to have wished upon the shooting star. Being able to spend a day with Crowe, experiencing the love you once shared ages ago and finding the one responsible for both of yours suffering gave you a new purpose.

No matter what it may take, you will find Solivan in every life to come and you will not let him harm Crowe ever again, for you will willingly give your life and soul if it meant Jericho Ichabod was alive and well.

You will stop this unjust curse, this vile creature who doomed you, over and over again, refusing to simply subject to fate.

_____________________________________

Funfact: Bithalassus means "(space) between two seas)" thought it would be pretty fitting with the kingdom by the sea

#jericho ichabod x reader #tkatb vn #the kid at the back vn #tkatb #yandere visual novel #yandere vn #the kid at the back #tkatb sol #yandere #sol #solivan brugmansia #jericho ichabod #crowe ichabod #crowe x reader #tkatb crowe #the kid at the back crowe #jericho crowe ichabod #crowe #tkatb x reader

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vibelladonna · 2 months ago

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❛ 𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 ❜ 𝜗𝜚 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒 𝓍 𝑔𝓃!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

· ─────── ⋆⋅♤⋅⋆ ─────── ·

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: After an unexpected rescue mission in the rain, you and Crowe find yourselves back in your cozy apartment with a rescued kitten snuggled up and safe. The night takes a gentle turn toward intimacy as the shared warmth of your bond grows deeper.

Amidst horror movies and stolen glances, quiet affection blossoms into something undeniable. Will Crowe finally let his walls crumble and allow you closer, or will he keep you at arm’s length?

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's (@fantasia-kitt) intentions. Spoilers From Day 1 and Day 2 The Kid At The Back. (More like Inspo lines)

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: Gender Neutral! Reader, Cuddling, Pillow talk, Fluff then Smut, Making out, Heavy Touching, Neck kisses, dry-humping, moaning, praise (receiving, and giving), Some hair pulling, and oral sex (giving).

I hope you all enjoyed my little creation! I’m definitely diving deeper into the Tkatb fandom—it’s just too much fun and full of mysteries to explore. With winter break here, I might even write more in the future. Also, Crowe deserves some love! There’s so little fanfiction about him that I couldn’t resist writing this!

The rain fell in relentless sheets, hammering against the pavement and turning the city into a glittering mosaic of slick streets and refracted light. You and Crowe barely made it back to your apartment, soaked to the bone, arms laden with grocery bags. Crowe cradled something against his chest—a tiny, drenched kitten trembling within the warmth of his vest.

“Here,” he said, his deep voice resonating with a softness that caught you off guard. There was a tender urgency in his tone as he carefully shifted the kitten into your hands. “This little one needs warmth.”

You nodded without hesitation, setting the groceries down with a thud and immediately rifling through your closet. Old t-shirts, a scarf you hadn’t worn in years—it all piled into a makeshift nest inside an empty shoebox. As you worked, Crowe watched in quiet approval, his tall frame silhouetted in the warm light of your apartment.

The kitten let out a faint meow, curling into the soft fabric as though it had found sanctuary. Crowe crouched beside the box, his dark brown hair still damp and half-undone from the rain. Strands clung stubbornly to his sharp jawline, which he brushed aside with a graceful flick of his fingers.

“You’re soaked,” you said, gesturing toward his clinging black button-up, which outlined his broad shoulders and hinted at the strong, lean frame beneath. “Go shower before you catch a cold.” He hesitated, his deep blue eyes flicking to yours, searching for something unspoken. Then, with a small nod, he rose and disappeared toward the bathroom.

When it was finally your turn, the hot water felt like heaven on your chilled skin. Steam wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to chase away the vivid image of Crowe—his quiet care for the kitten, the rain tracing the contours of his face, the almost regal grace in his movements. He was magnetic, the kind of person you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you tried.

When you emerged, bundled in an oversized hoodie and fleece shorts, Crowe was already seated on your couch. He’d traded his drenched clothes for a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants you’d lent him. The casual attire softened his presence in a way that caught you off guard. His long hair, now untied and damp, framed his face with unintentional elegance, every strand catching the glow of the lamp behind him.

The plan was to watch a movie—something simple, a classic slasher with predictable jump scares. But your attention refused to cooperate. As the ominous soundtrack droned on, your eyes kept drifting to him. His profile was serene, his gaze distant yet intensely thoughtful. He shifted slightly, and you became acutely aware of the small space between you.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was low, and intimate, as if the question wasn’t meant to be shared with the world. “If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

You blinked, startled by the question and the way his attention focused solely on you. “Another one of your trivia questions, Crowe?” you teased, trying to mask the nervous flutter in your chest. Stretching your arms casually, you laughed lightly, but he didn’t respond in kind.

Instead, he leaned closer, the air between you charged with something unspoken. His breath brushed your cheek, sending an involuntary shiver through you.

“Wh-why don’t you answer first?” you stammered, the words barely audible.

He chuckled a low, warm sound that made your skin prickle. Then, to your surprise, he rested his head on your shoulder, the weight of him both grounding and electrifying. Before you could muster a response, he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched, and you prayed he couldn’t hear the erratic drumming of your heart.

“Dodging the question, huh?” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement but carrying an undercurrent of something more profound.

“Well…” He paused as if searching for the right words. “If I could have anything in this world… I’d want more time. More time to be with you. More time to spend like this.” His voice softened, tinged with a vulnerability that caught you off guard.

“Kind of selfish, huh?” His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and your chest tightened at the sight. His gaze was downcast, his usual confidence replaced by something raw and unguarded. Though he smiled faintly, it didn’t reach his eyes.

At that moment, you didn’t know whether he was speaking to you or himself, but the desperation in his expression was unmistakable. And it left you breathless.

“You’re staring,” Crowe murmured, his lips curving into a faint, teasing smirk. Your cheeks burned, the heat spreading up your neck as you realized how obvious you’d been. “Your hair’s long,” You blurted out, instantly regretting the flat, unpolished observation. Your hands fidgeted in your lap, betraying the nervousness.

Crowe raised a brow, his fingers lazily trailing up to brush through the loose strands grazing his collarbone. The motion was unhurried, almost calculated. “Is that a bad thing?” he asked, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity but mostly playful provocation.

“No! No, it’s…” You stumbled over your words, your voice dropping to a softer register as your gaze lingered on his hair, the rich brown strands catching the light. “It’s nice,” They finally said, the admission almost shy.

Crowe chuckled, a low, velvety sound that sent a flutter through your chest. “Just nice, huh?” he said, his amusement laced with challenge. His gaze swept over your face, reading your every reaction as if it were a game he’d already mastered. “Not beautiful? Stunning? Majestic like a warrior’s mane after a victorious battle?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play off the embarrassment. “I wouldn’t go that far…” You mumbled, your voice barely audible as they looked away.

He laughed again, the sound brighter this time, the sight of his smile drawing your attention back to him. You were captivated, the world narrowing to just Crowe at that moment. His movements were subtle but deliberate as he leaned closer, the distance between them shrinking.

His voice dipped to a low murmur that sent a shiver racing down your spine. “But what if I said I want you to go that far?”

As he spoke, his hand moved, fingers brushing just barely against the edge of yours where they rested in your lap. The contact was featherlight, yet it sparked like static electricity, sending a straight jolt. You froze, your breath hitching, the heat in your cheeks now rivaling the pounding in your chest. Crowe’s eyes, gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, locked onto yours.

“Can I…?” Your voice wavered, your hand hovering uncertainly in the air between them.

Crowe tilted his head slightly, his intrigue evident in the slow curl of his lips. “What is it you want to do, hm?” he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper. His steady gaze never left yours, his stillness almost daring you to close the distance.

You hesitated, your hand trembling as it lingered in the space between them. Your heart raced, your breathing shallow as they searched his face for any sign of hesitation. Instead, his expression softened, and with a slow, almost imperceptible nod, he gave his silent permission.

Your fingertips brushed against his hair, hesitant at first. The strands were softer than they’d imagined, slipping between your fingers like silk. You exhaled a shaky breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding. “I just… wanted to feel it,” they murmured, your voice a quiet admission.

Crowe’s eyes closed briefly as if savoring the light touch. A subtle shiver ran through him, but the smile tugging at his lips was unmistakable. When he opened his eyes again, they were locked onto yours, their intensity making your pulse quicken. "Satisfied?" he asked softly, though the teasing glint in his eyes suggested he already knew the answer.

"Is it as majestic as I described it?" Crowe’s voice carried a blend of playful mischief and genuine curiosity, his dark eyes twinkling as he watched you.

Your hand continued its gentle motion, fingers gliding through the soft strands of his hair, your touch almost reverent. The faint blush creeping across your cheeks betrayed you otherwise calm demeanor. You tried to focus on the rhythmic motion of your hand, but the sensation—his hair softer than you’d expected—was strangely grounding and intoxicating all at once.

Your breath hitched as you felt the weight of his gaze on you, an intensity that seemed to see more than you were ready to reveal. Still, his playful tone softened the tension, coaxing you to respond. "It’s... softer than I expected," You admitted, your voice barely louder than the whisper of the rain against the windows.

Crowe’s lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Smoother, you say?" he repeated, his voice dropping to a sultry murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned in, ever so slightly, his breath ghosting across your cheek.

"Just how soft did you expect it to be, hm?" Your heart stuttered; senses heightened, catching the faintest details—the warmth radiating from him, the subtle scent of his cologne—close to blueberries mixed with something uniquely Crowe.

Your fingers trembled as they brushed the strands of his hair framing his face, the silky texture tantalizing against your skin. Crowe’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, savoring your touch. "Does it bother you to keep it this long?" You ventured, voice tentative, almost fragile in the intimacy of the moment.

He opened his eyes, meeting yours with a softness "No," he murmured. "But sometimes... it gets in the way while I’m running errands around the building.”

You felt the corners of your lips curve slightly, a tiny, conspiratorial smile. "You always be working and take care of everyone else… even me.” You mentioned, your voice quiet yet firm. "Let someone take care of you for once."

Your words seemed to catch him off guard. His gaze darkened—not with anger but with a vulnerability so raw it made his breath hitch. Slowly, his hand reached up, fingers roughened by life’s demands, brushing against your cheek with a tenderness they hadn’t expected.

"I’m not used to that," he admitted, the words heavy with unspoken meaning. His eyes searched yours, as though seeking assurance. "I don’t... usually let myself be taken care of."

The weight of his confession settled between them. You found yourself unable to look away. Your free hand came to rest on his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt soft beneath your fingers. You traced idle patterns there, feeling the heat of his skin just beneath the surface, grounding yourself in his presence.

"Why not?" You asked softly, your voice like a gentle breeze coaxing the truth from him.

Crowe’s gaze flickered down, watching the slow, deliberate movements of your fingers as though they held answers he didn’t yet have. He hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly in thought. "I’m... not sure," he confessed, his tone contemplative. "I guess I’ve always been the one to look after others. It’s just what I know."

His honesty hung between them like an unspoken promise, and for a moment, time seemed to pause. You let the silence stretch, your hand still tracing circles on his shoulder. Slowly, deliberately, you leaned in just enough for your forehead to graze his, your voice a whisper that barely bridged the gap.

"Then maybe it’s time you let someone teach you."

Crowe’s eyes flicked back to yours, locking onto your gaze. There was a flicker of surprise and uncertainty in his expression as if the very idea of someone wanting to take care of him, let alone you, was an entirely foreign concept. And yet, it carried a strange allure, something that stirred deep within him. He didn’t speak at first, his silence hanging between them like an unspoken question.

Finally, he gave a small, tentative nod.

“You… want to?” he asked, his voice tinged with both wonder and disbelief. His brow furrowed, his cheeks warming with an unmistakable blush. “You’d want to… take care of me?” His voice softened further, almost shy. “Like how? What… what are you gonna do?”

You tilted your head, lips curving into a soft, knowing smile. His earnestness, the vulnerability in his question, made your heartache most sweetly. You let the moment linger, the air thick with unspoken emotions, as if to let him absorb the gravity of his trust in you.

Your hand, which had been resting lightly on his shoulder, began to move in slow, deliberate strokes. Your fingertips brushed across the fabric of his shirt before traveling to the base of his neck, where they lingered, tracing slow, deliberate circles against his skin. The heat of your touch sent a shiver down his spine, his breath catching in his throat as his body instinctively leaned into the sensation.

“How about…” You murmured, your voice was soft and soothing, almost like a lullaby. “…you let me decide that?”

Crowe swallowed hard, his mind racing with a mixture of apprehension and intrigue. The thought of relinquishing control was daunting, almost terrifying. And yet, the softness in your voice, the gentleness of your touch, coaxed something in him to let go. He hesitated only for a moment before nodding again, this time with a hint of more certainty.

“All right,” he said quietly, his voice laced with surrender. “I… I’ll let you decide.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, at the quiet admission that he was willing to trust you in a way that seemed so out of character for him. Crowe, the ever-composed, always-in-control student council leader, allowing himself to be cared for—it was a rare, precious moment.

You adjusted your position slightly, your movements are fluid and intentional. Your hand on his neck urged him to lean back against the couch as you shifted closer. “Relax,” You whispered, encouraging yet firm. Your other hand came up to gently push him back, just enough for him to rest more comfortably.

His eyes darted to yours, seeking reassurance, before he finally allowed himself to recline. His shoulders sagged slightly as the tension began to flow away. You shifted beside him, your thigh brushing against his as they leaned in closer, your presence grounding him.

“Close your eyes,” You instructed.

He obeyed, his lashes fluttering shut. The world around him faded into darkness, leaving only the sensation of your touch and the faint rustle of fabric as you adjusted yourself once more. Your fingers continued their soothing motion at the nape of his neck, and he felt your legs shift as you moved deliberately.

Before he could fully register the change, your thigh slid over his lap, your weight settling as you straddled him. The closeness, the intimacy of your position, sent a rush of warmth flooding through him. He inhaled sharply, his hands instinctively moving to rest at your sides, though his touch remained hesitant, unsure.

You leaned in, breath warm against his cheek, lips hovering just near his ear. “Just let me take care of you,” You murmured, your voice low and soft, a seductive blend of promise and reassurance.

Crowe exhaled shakily, his body betraying his need to resist, yet failing. He could feel himself yielding, the last threads of hesitation unraveling in your presence.

Your lips brushed against his ear, a fleeting caress that sent shivers cascading down his spine. You shifted, pressing your body closer as you straddled him fully, their closeness intoxicating. He could feel your heat, your heartbeat steady against his, as you moved with deliberate intention. Your fingers trailed gently along his jawline, your touch light as air but carrying an electrifying weight.

"Let go," You whispered again.

Crowe’s hands, which had been gripping your sides in an instinctive bid for control, faltered. They trembled slightly before slipping away entirely, falling to rest in his lap as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensations they was awakening. “I…” he began, his voice thick and strained, but the words caught in his throat.

“Please?” You asked, tilting your head as your lips found the curve of his neck. You pressed the faintest kiss there, your warm breath fanning across his skin. Slowly, deliberately, you began your descent, lips tracing the line of his neck with tender persistence. You paused just long enough to let him feel every lingering kiss, every fleeting brush of your mouth, before moving lower.

The tension in his body craved and flowed with every touch. He tensed as your lips found the hollow at the base of his neck, then relaxed again as they pressed a kiss just above his collarbone. You smiled against his skin, sensing the shiver that coursed through him.

Your hands moved in tandem with your lips, sliding from his jaw to the nape of his neck, your fingers threading gently through his hair. “Just feel,” They murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as they continued your path, leaving a trail of soft, heated kisses along his chest.

Crowe’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with your movements. Every kiss, every touch, seemed to peel away another layer of his guarded composure, leaving him bare and vulnerable before you. He closed his eyes tightly, surrendering completely to the unfamiliar yet exhilarating flood of sensations.

You paused for a moment, lips hovering just over his sternum. You looked up at him, a soft hum of satisfaction escaping as you took in his expression—the furrow of his brows, the slight parting of his lips, the way his head tilted back just slightly. He was yours at this moment, completely and utterly.

"You’re doing so well," You whispered against his skin, pressing another kiss to his chest. "Just keep letting go."

His fingers curled into the fabric of his sweatpants, knuckles whitening with the force of his grip. It was the only anchor he could find as he surrendered to the sensations flooding him, a steady burn that spread through his chest and pooled in his lower stomach. His breaths came in shallow bursts, and his body quaked under the unfamiliar weight of letting go, of yielding control.

Every nerve was alive, hyper-attuned to your touch, and the soothing cadence of your voice was like a salve for the storm within him.

He clenched his jaw, trying to steady himself. When your lips brushed the hollow of his throat, a tremor passed through him, sharp and undeniable. His hand twitched, releasing its grip on his sweatpants, fingers ghosting over the edge of your shoulder as if seeking permission to hold onto yours instead. He swallowed hard, his throat dry, and finally managed to whisper your name.

“Please…” His voice cracked, barely audible, but the sound carried a rawness that struck you. “…Wait a sec.” You paused, lips hovering just above his skin, breath warm against his neck.

A flicker of something gentle crossed your expression as you sensed the vulnerability emanating from him—the way his chest heaved, the fine tremor in his frame, and the palpable tension that coiled beneath your touch.

"Yes...?" You murmured, tilting your head slightly to catch his gaze. Your eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and playfulness. He inhaled shakily, trying to form the words. His heart pounded against his ribs as though it sought an escape. "I can't…" he started, his voice rough, words tumbling out before he could stop them. "We can't… everything feels… intense."

Your lips curved into a soft smile, a hand coming to rest over his chest, where his heartbeat thundered against your palm. "I know," They said, your voice like a quiet melody. Your lips brushed the pulse point in his neck, featherlight and deliberate. "It's a lot, isn't it? But you’re doing so well."

He stiffened beneath you, his hands finally rising to hold your arms, steadying you but also grounding himself. "That’s not my point," he rasped, voice breaking slightly. He pulled back just enough to see your face. "I have loved you since the day I met you. I need to know how you feel—before we…" His breath caught, his gaze searching yours. "Before we go any further. I don’t want this to be… casual."

The air between them shifted, heavy with unspoken emotions. You froze, his confession ringing in your ears. For a heartbeat, you didn’t move, your thoughts whirling. But then, warmth spread through your chest, melting the tension that had momentarily gripped you. Slowly, your hands rose to cradle his face, thumbs brushing gently against his cheekbones.

"I…" You began, voice soft but trembling. "I feel the same. I have for so long, but I was scared. Scared to lose you, scared to ruin this… us."

Relief washed over him, his hands falling to your waist as he let your words settle. He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling slowly. "I never wanted to risk us either," he admitted. "But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I couldn’t keep pretending."

Your lips parted, a shaky laugh escaping as you leaned your forehead against his. "No wonder you kept finding excuses to spend more time with me," You teased, your voice low, tinged with affection. Your fingers trailed down to rest on his chest, "You can be selfish with me, Crowe. I’m yours, you know that. I’ve always been yours."

His lips curled into a tender smile, the vulnerability in your voice and the weight of your words filling him with a kind of courage he hadn’t known he possessed. He tightened his hold on you slightly as if afraid you might vanish if he didn’t. "I’m yours too," he murmured, his voice a quiet promise. "And I don’t just want time with you. I want everything. All of you."

Your breath hitched as his thumb traced along your jawline, his touch delicate yet firm, leaving trails of warmth. His other hand slid from your waist to your back, holding you securely. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locked onto yours.

"May I?" he asked, his voice low, almost reverent.

You felt the question in your core, chest tightening and loosening all at once. Your body leaned into him instinctively, every fiber of you being answering before your voice could. When you finally spoke, words were a whisper against his lips. "Yes. Please."

Crowe moved slowly, his lips brushing against yours with a softness that belied the intensity coursing through him. The kiss deepened naturally, a shared hunger and longing driving them closer. Your hands tangled in his hair, your body pressing against his.

Crowe’s lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with a purpose that left no room for doubt. His hand on your waist tightened, drawing you closer until the inner part of your thighs brushed against his lower abdomen. The heat of his body was a sharp contrast to the cool dampness still clinging to the air.

Your fingers, still tangled in his hair, instinctively tugged, earning a low, almost inaudible groan from him. The sound sent a shiver through you, making your heart race even faster. Encouraged, you deepened the kiss, your lips parting slightly to invite him in. His response was immediate, a soft flick of his tongue against yours that left you dizzy.

Crowe pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his own. His breaths are heavy, matching yours, and you beheld his red face and hair messier than before. His eyes, those piercing deep blue eyes, searched yours for any hesitation.

“Am I going too fast?” he asked, his voice husky and lower than usual.

You shook your head, barely able to form words. “No… it’s perfect.”

At that, his lips quirked into a small smile—rare and heart-stopping. “Is this a dream? I hope not. If I’m in a dream, please tell the sleeping me to never wake up. I want to live in this dream forever.” His free hand slid to the small of your back, guiding you effortlessly deeper into his lap. The movement was fluid like he’d imagined this a hundred times before.

“Will this convince you it’s not a dream?” You lean closer to his face and place a peck on his cheek. “Mmm.. maybe. But I think this would convince me.” He captures your lips swiftly. He pries your mouth open by pushing in his tongue, exploring you further, and muffing your moans with his intense kiss.

You gasp, now feeling one hand slip beneath your hoodie, splaying across the bare skin of your lower back. The other tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further. His lips left yours briefly, trailing along your jaw and down the column of your neck to nibble at the soft flesh.

“Now people will… know you’re mine.” You gasped when his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive spot, and he chuckled softly against your skin. “You sound so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction.

Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. The rhythm of his heart beneath your palm was as erratic as your own, a reassuring sign that he wasn’t as composed as he seemed.

“Crowe,” you whispered, barely able to hear your voice over the pounding in your ears. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze again, his expression raw and unguarded.

“Please say my real name,” he murmured, his tone almost pleading.

“Jericho,” you corrected, savoring the way his name felt on your lips. He let out a shaky exhale, his hands tightening their grip on you. His lips found yours again, this time rougher, more desperate.

His hips shifted beneath you, and the friction drew a soft moan from your throat. “Do you have any idea,” he breathed between kisses, “how long I’ve wanted this?”

The heat between them was undeniable, the air practically crackling with energy. Every touch and every movement seemed to amplify the heady rush of desire rushing through their veins.

When his hips rocked against your own, another soft gasp escaped your lips, the friction so new, so sweet. Jericho presses himself against you, feeling the bulge within the confinements of his pants.

You gripped his shoulders tighter, steadying yourself as your thoughts became hazy with each press of his lips to your skin, proceeding to attack your neck with nibbles, determined to leave multiple marks instead of one.

Your voice, already breathless, managed a shaky reply, "No, but I... I'm sure it's half as long as I've wanted you." Suddenly, he pulled you closer, his hips rocking gently against yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each movement brought a gasp or a groan to your lips, the friction between you growing more heated with every second.

“Please let me make you wonderful,” Jericho murmured against your neck, his voice low and soft… all of it was a delicious yet torturous sensory overload.

And at his murmured plea, your breath caught in your throat, snapping your consciousness back. Your fingers tightened on his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Jericho," They managed your voice a ragged breath. “I’m the one supposed to make you feel good.”

Jericho pulled back slightly, enough to meet your gaze, "You... already make me feel good," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Just being here with you... it makes me feel more alive than anything else." His eyes filled with love, desire, and lust. “Would you let me?” He begged, “I promise to make you feel great. I want you to feel amazing.”

His words were spoken with such sincere conviction and lust. The raw honesty in them, the way he looked at you… You couldn't help yours; your fingers left his shoulders to gently cup his face. “I don't just mean at this moment," They said softly, your thumb brushing over his cheek. "I mean... I want to make you feel good in every way possible. I want..."

You faltered, unsure how much you dared to say aloud. Instead, you shifted, sliding off his lap and onto your knees before him. The movement was fluid yet intentional, your gaze never leaving his as you knelt at his feet,

Jericho swallowed, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight of you at his feet. It was a sight he had never imagined before, yet now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. "What... what are you doing?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

You could see the surprise, the hint of confusion mixed with a heady sort of excitement in his eyes as they knelt before him. The position was submissive, yes, but it gave you a unique sort of control over the situation.

Your hands, now free, rose to rest on his thighs, your fingers tracing small circles on the inner fabric of his sweatpants. Your voice was soft and firm

"I'm taking care of you," They said quietly. "So just... lean back and relax." Your hand slithers to the base of his sweatpants.

Jericho let out a low, shaky breath as your fingers brushed his skin, the fleeting touch electrifying. Shivers coursed up his spine, and he bit down on a gasp, his eyes dark with a mixture of lust and anticipation. “Have you ever done this before?” he asked softly, his hands hesitating for a moment before helping you slide his sweatpants and boxers down in one smooth motion.

You hesitated, your cheeks warming under his gaze. “No… Is that a bad thing?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head immediately, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “No, it’s not a bad thing,” he said, his tone gentle yet weighted with emotion. “If anything… it makes it all the more special.” But then his expression shifted, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. He looked at you almost apologetically. “I’m sorry about this.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Hm? About what?”

The moment the fabric pooled at his feet, the answer became crystal clear. Vulnerability washed over Jericho as he leaned back slightly, his chest rising and falling with steady, deep breaths. Your eyes widened in surprise, freezing as they landed on the sight before you.

He cleared his throat, a hint of self-consciousness in his tone. “Uh… it gets a little bigger when I’m fully hard. Just thought I’d warn you.” His cheeks flushed a light pink, a rare vulnerability breaking through his usually composed demeanor.

For a brief moment, you were speechless, caught between awe and disbelief. The sheer size of him was… impressive, to say the least. You swallowed hard, the dryness in your throat suddenly impossible to ignore. A nervous laugh almost bubbled up, but it was stifled by the intensity of the moment.

“I… see,” you managed to say, your voice soft but tinged with a teasing edge. Your lips twitched into a small smirk. “A little bit bigger, huh? I’m curious to see just how much more it grows.”

Jericho chuckled lightly at your words, his nervousness easing ever so slightly. Still, he reached out, his hand brushing your arm as if to steady both of you. “Take your time,” he said gently, his voice a soothing balm to your nervous energy. “Ease into it. And, uh… it’s okay if your teeth touch, just—maybe try not to bite down?”

A laugh escaped you this time, a blend of amusement and nerves. “I’ll do my best to keep my jaws in check,” you teased, the shy undertone in your voice making the moment feel strangely intimate.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you reached out, your touch tentative but curious. The warmth of him against your palm was startling, the weight and solidity grounding you. Your grip adjusted instinctively, firm but careful, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jericho.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gave a quick nod. “You won’t,” he assured you, his voice rough with restraint.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. There was something intoxicating in the way his eyes burned with trust and desire. Leaning forward, you let your lips brush against the sensitive tip of his cock, soft and deliberate.

A low, guttural moan escaped him, his head falling back against the bed. His hands clenched at his sides, resisting the urge to move and disrupt your rhythm. “Gods,” he muttered, his voice breaking.

Encouraged by his reaction, you placed a series of soft kisses along the reddened head, your movements exploratory yet tender. Jericho’s breaths grew heavier, his chest rising and falling with each passing second. He forced himself to remain still, his muscles tensing as he let you set the pace, his desire to guide overshadowed by his determination to let you take your time.

Your lips curled into a small smile as you continued, the moment feeling raw and unfiltered. Slowly, the tension began to melt away, replaced by a shared sense of trust and discovery.

Jericho sighed when they took his lenght in your mouth. It’s already bigger than when he first pulled it out, quickly growing hard despite his reluctance to hold back. You feel it press in past your lips, dragging across your tongue, and finally hit the back of your throat. That’s it. That’s as far as it goes, right?

Looking forward, you can see that he’s not in your mouth. “Try to relax your throat,” he tells you. “That’s it, you’re doing good.” Jericho prasied. His voice sends goosebumps across your skin as his massive cock slides even further in, going partially down your throat.

“Make sure to breathe through your nose,” he added.

Your hands are on his thighs, gripping the fabric of his pants. You’re gagging slightly, trying to keep it under control and focus on breathing. After what feels like forever, your jaw is sore, and your throat aches.

Tears fill your eyes, which Jericho notices and looks at you guiltily before moving one large hand over to gently rub the top of your head. “Good girl,” he says, “you’re taking me well.”

The statement makes heat spread over your face. Then you remember that you’re supposed to be making him cum. The thought of it makes you excited somehow. You feel the urge to pleasure him, to make him feel good. He’s been so sweet to you, after all. He hasn’t moved at all, letting you do things at your own pace. Looking up at his face, it’s clearer than ever how gorgeous he is.

You tighten your lips around his base, your tongue gliding across the underside of his cock while your tight throat constricts around his tip. He looks down at you suddenly, deep blue eyes slightly widened. You give him a tentative swirl of your tongue.

He can’t tear his eyes away as he watches you work your magic on him. The sight of you, the feel of your tongue, it’s the most incredible and overwhelming thing he’s ever experienced. He can’t help but let out another deep, guttural moan as the sensations wash over him. “Gods, yes. Just like that,” he pants, his voice low and rough.

“You’re so good at this. So damn good.” He reaches out, gently tangling his fingers in your hair, not to control your movements but just to have something to hold onto.

The inside of your mouth felt nice and warm, causing him to shudder from the sensation. Eventually, his hand grips your hair and, for the first time, unintentionally thrusts into your throat. You feel a bit of force from him as he pushes your head down, his cock going halfway down your throat and almost choking you.

Jericho lets out a low moan as you suck faster, wanting to hear the desperate need for ecstasy while taking pleasure from each sound he makes. He grips your hair roughly and throws his head back, but you don’t seem to mind. After all, you want him to make more sounds.

You take the entire cock inside your mouth again, feeling the cock becoming harder than before, nodding your head up and down and swirling your tongue around his cock, making sure to aim for the tip as well, savoring the pre-cum taste. Your eyes travel to his face, beholding the euphoric expression as he bites his lips, feeling you lick the slightest bit of cum that leaks from him,

Jericho could barely hold himself together as you pleasured him, his head spinning and his body writhing. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with lust and intense with love.

“You’re... you’re driving me crazy,” he managed, his voice rough and breathless. “…God.” His moans and gasps are like music to your ears, fueling that excitement as they suck and move your head in all the ways that they know will drive him wild.

“Mmh.” You suck faster and faster, your fingers fumbling with his balls as your swallow his cock even deeper down your throat—he didn’t think any more could be possible.

He’s so deep in your throat that whenever you thrust his cock in, your nose nearly touches his pelvis. Jericho can’t help but thrust your mouth down his needy cock down your throat again.

Immediately, you feel his warm cum flood your mouth, coating the back of your tongue and oozing down your neck. His hand quickly releases you, “Sorry, love, I couldn’t help it…” He mutters another apology. His face looks slightly flushed, and he’s breathing a little harder.

Oh god, he looks so hot right now—is all you think about, feeling the growing dampness between your legs as you stare up at him, his now soft cock still in your mouth.

“No one’s ever made me feel this way before. Gods, you’re... incredible,” Jericho murmurs, his voice heavy with awe and lingering desire. His words hang in the air, electric and intimate. The way he looks at you—half in disbelief, half in reverence—sends a shiver down your spine.

Without hesitation, you lean forward, your lips brushing against the velvety, slick surface of his cock. Your tongue darts out, teasing the sensitive tip, and you savor the salty-sweet taste that lingers there. Slowly, deliberately, you begin to suckle, your tongue swirling and pressing against every ridge and curve. A soft moan escapes his lips, though he quickly clamps his mouth shut, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Jericho’s chest heaves and his hands grip the soft couch beneath him, knuckles whitening as he fights to stay still. His breath hitches, and he glances away, the flush on his cheeks deepening as he battles the urge stirring within him. His jaw tightens, and he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again to find you.

“You’re... you’re sure you want to keep going?” he asks, his voice strained and hoarse. Despite the question, his fingers reach out instinctively, trailing down the side of your face.

His touch is warm, trembling ever so slightly as if he's trying to ground himself. “I don’t want to wear you out,” he adds, his brows furrowing even as his lips part to let out a shallow exhale.

You pause for a moment, meeting his gaze with a soft smile, and your heart clenches at the mixture of vulnerability and yearning in his eyes. There's a rawness to him, an unguarded honesty that makes your chest tighten with affection. His concern feels genuine, but so does the hunger simmering beneath his words—a need he can’t quite hide.

Jericho looks down at you again, his heart pounding so loudly you can almost hear it. His disheveled hair falls into his eyes, and he brushes it back absentmindedly, the action making him seem almost boyish in his tenderness.

Despite the way his breathing is still uneven, he manages to smile faintly. “You’ve already done such a good job,” he says softly, his fingers brushing over your messy hair in an almost reverent gesture.

You feel a pang of something deep and inexplicable—a selfish kind of love, one that makes you want to claim and cherish every part of him. The thought takes root in your chest, blooming with a quiet intensity.

Jericho’s hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb grazing the edge of your jaw, and you realize that, for this moment, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than here, tangled in his warmth his selfish love.

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