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bucketbueckers · 24 days ago

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I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER FOUR

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya @pbbucks @unadulteratedcyclepaper @paiges-1vur wc: 9.7k notes: mama a MASTERLIST behind you 💜 lots of filler content but it's kinda pivotal ig 😛 hope you're all enjoying, reading all of your comments makes my day 🫶

‘South Carolina Basketball Star Apologizes for Destruction Tour'

After a month of out of control behavior, Tess Kennedy has officially put an end to her destruction tour. In a heartfelt message on her socials, Kennedy apologizes to her team, coaches and staff, and basketball fans and she opens up about how her ACL injury “flipped [her] world upside down.”

“My injury forced me to consider a future where I could not play basketball,” Kennedy writes. “I moved to the States at a young age and basketball was the one thing that made me feel at home here. Believing that I’d lost basketball made me feel like I’d lost the one place I belonged. My thoughts were, ‘if I can’t play, then what’s the point?’”

Many fans responded well to Kennedy’s apology, understanding the guard’s feeling of homelessness. Many others appreciate the candor. One commenter noted that athletes don’t tend to discuss the darker parts of the ACL injury, claiming that this transparency is paramount in making mental health resources more accessible and more normalized for athletes. There are others who are firm in their belief that Kennedy’s reaction was unacceptable. Supporters rallied in defense for Kennedy.

[IMAGE TRANSCRIPTION: USER THOMASBLINKY39: “GOOD ATTEMPT AT SAVING FACE. YOU OVERREACTED AND LET DOWN MANY, ESPECIALLY YOUNG GIRLS WHO LOOK UP TO YOU. TELL YOUR PR MANAGERS TO WRITE A BETTER APOLOGY NEXT TIME.” | USER TESSKENNEDYUPDATES: “IT’S THE SAME WITH YOU PEOPLE, ISN’T IT? A MAN IS ALLOWED TO REACT. A WOMAN CAN ONLY OVERREACT. DON’T PRETEND TO UNDERSTAND WHAT TESS IS GOING THROUGH. ALL YOUR COMMENT DOES IS SHOW THE YOUNG GIRLS YOU PRETEND TO CARE ABOUT THAT THEY ARE NOT ALLOWED TO FEEL AND FALL APART WHEN THEY’RE HURT. TESS SHOWS THEM THAT THEY CAN COME BACK EVEN STRONGER.” END TRANSCRIPTION.]

Reactions aside, one thing is for certain. Tess Kennedy is fully on the road to recovery and things are looking up for her.

“I’m connected with great physical therapists to rehab my knee and I am meeting with a psychologist to address my mental health and alcohol dependence,” Kennedy shares. “I am thankful for my friends, family, and support system. They were patient and loved me when I couldn’t love myself. This process hasn’t been pretty and it won’t look pretty for a while – but I owe it to myself to do what I need to so I can play the game I love again. This is a new opportunity to compete, only I’m against myself this time, and the one promise I can make is that I don’t lose to the same opponent twice.”

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 9, 2023

Tess’s alarm wakes her on Tuesday morning. It takes her a moment to blink the sleep out of her eyes, still feeling the residual exhaustion from accidentally staying up later than she’d been accustomed to the past week. It’s only 8am, but she can hear Kamilla and Bree milling about in the kitchen, presumably making breakfast, quietly laughing over the gentle hum of whatever music they have playing. Tess hauls herself out of bed, stretching the ache out of her body and making her way into the bathroom.

Tess was never usually one for sleeping in. It was a hard habit to break after years of being up bright and early to go on morning runs and hit the gym. She fell off of that part in her routine after her surgery, and although she can’t exactly do much running or lifting currently, trying to repair her sleep schedule and other routines helps bring back some normalcy in her life. So far, it was working pretty well, though it’s been a struggle to figure out what to do with her time on the days she doesn’t have PT in the morning.

As she brushes her teeth in the bathroom, she’s distracted by thoughts of the upcoming 12 hour drive she’ll have to power through. It was her only choice – she wasn’t cleared for air travel just yet, so it’s an unfortunate fact of life she’ll just have to deal with. She’s less stoked about the long conversation she’ll have to have with her parents. Between PT and her other obligations, Tess hasn’t really had the time to truly sit down and give her parents the closure they deserved. They’d texted and called numerous times; Tess felt terrible for ignoring most of it, but she just couldn’t stomach their worry and disappointment. She couldn’t stomach her own shortcomings, either, nor the fact that she let it get so bad and that she iced out the people who have been in her corner since day one. The more she thinks about how she ghosted her own parents and let them watch her crash and burn through gossip articles and online videos, the more she feels like she’s going to throw up.

She can’t avoid it forever, though. Not when there’s nothing between her and her parents besides their car’s center console and 715 miles of open road.

Tess rinses her mouth out, splashing water on her face, reaching for her cleanser and moisturizer. When she begins applying her skincare, it’s the first good look she gets of her face all morning. She stares at herself for a long moment. The bags under her eyes are fading and her cheeks finally have their fullness back. She feels okay – she really does, which she thinks is a weird feeling to celebrate, but she’s celebrating it regardless, knowing she’s felt anything but okay in the past month. The one feature, however, that almost brings a smile to her face is the subtle shine in her eyes, the flash of life that has otherwise been missing.

She looks good. She feels good. That much is enough to improve her mood. She ventures out into the kitchen, grinning at Kamilla and Bree who look up with matching smiles as they work. Kamilla is flipping something in a pan at the stove while Bree chops veggies. “Hey, guys. Need a hand?”

Kamilla shakes her head, waving the spatula at her in a way that reminds Tess of her nonna. “Nuh-uh. Sit. You want an omelette?”

Knowing better than to test Kamilla, Tess slides into a stool, careful of her knee. “Yes please.”

Kamilla hums, cracking a few more eggs into a bowl, adding milk, and whisking them together. “We didn’t wake you or anything, right?” Bree asks, dumping some peppers and onions into Kamilla’s bowl. Bree lowers the volume on their music just slightly so she can hear Tess’s response.

“Nah,” she reassures her. “I had an alarm set. My parents should be here around noon.”

Kamilla turns on her heel suddenly. “Oh, speaking of, you got a package like, twenty minutes ago. It’s by the door. What the hell did you buy? It was heavy as shit.”

Tess can’t help the flush that covers her cheeks, though she doesn’t understand why Kamilla’s question makes her feel as though she’s been caught red-handed. “Uh, I might have bought a PS5,” she admits, and Bree snorts. Tess shoots her an indignant look. “My therapist says I need new hobbies. Turns out I had zero personality outside of basketball, so I’m trying to find out what else I like.”

“Besides a certain blonde hooper, of course,” Bree says, straight-faced and deadpan. Kamilla nudges her with her elbow and they both break out into giggles.

Tess narrows her eyes. “You guys aren’t funny. We are literally just friends.”

“Well, you said y’all was strictly business last week, so which is it?” Bree teases. “I saw those photos of y’all at the airport, too. You looked heartbroken –”

“Stop,” Tess whines, burying her face in her hands. “It’s just for the media.”

“Cheer up, T,” Kamilla says comfortingly. Tess looks up to watch as Kamilla dumps the omelette onto a plate, sliding it her way with a fork. “Bree’s just jealous. The football player she’s been plottin’ on for months has a girlfriend back home, so she’s sad.”

Bree gasps, shooting her a scandalized look. “First of all, I wasn’t plotting on Shawn. I was just testing the waters, and the waters say football players are not husband material. Second of all –” Bree redirects her attention to Tess, whose fork hovers halfway to her mouth as she stares at her teammate, “–Tess is the worst actress I’ve ever seen in my life. Remember that time we tried to plan a surprise party for Aliyah and Tess couldn’t stop grinning the entire day?”

“That’s different!” Tess interrupts, the egg falling off of her fork. She groans as she scoops it up again. “I can’t lie to my friends. But I can lie to the media.”

“No the hell you can’t!” Bree retorts. “You can’t control your face. That’s why you trend on Twitter after pressers because half of the country turns you into a meme.”

Tess’s face falls. “Wait, they do that?”

Bree points at her as Kamilla snorts. “This is exactly what I’m talking about! Anyways!” She claps her hands, gathering her thoughts. “You can’t control your face. You are the worst liar I’ve ever met. Which is why I know that look on your face at the airport was real. You aren’t lying to the media – you’re lying to Paige, which is why you’re fumbling the bag. You fuck with Paige, whether you’ve realized that or not.”

Tess’s face burns red as her thoughts race. “What are you, my therapist? I don’t fuck with Paige, whatever the hell you mean by that.” Bree narrows her eyes at her, and Tess has to look away. “Christ,” Tess mutters, fingers pressing into her temple. “Look, me and Paige are just friends. I’m just a mess emotionally with everything going on and she’s like, the only person I’ve hung out with that’s not you two.”

Kamilla nudges Bree with her elbow, drawing her attention as she breaks her silence. “Maybe we don’t need to grill her on this now,” she suggests, but her tone of voice leads Tess to believe that it’s more of a demand. “She’s going through a lot. Let her friendships just be friendships.” Tess shoots her a grateful look as Bree sighs, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter.

“I’m just looking out for you,” Bree says after a while. “I know you – you’re my girl, Tess. You’re not good at lying, or keeping secrets, or pretending, or doing anything casual. You’re real, maybe blunt to a fault, and you always give everything your all. I just want you to be careful. Blurring those lines with Paige can make things really complicated and you need to focus on recovery – not her.”

Tess frowns, pushing around the egg on her plate. She suddenly doesn’t feel hungry anymore. The anxiety creeps up into her chest, kickstarting her heart, and she has to breathe through the what-ifs and the slight panic that comes with questioning everything you’ve known for the past week. “I know you mean well, Bree, but I’m good,” Tess states once she gathered her thoughts. She gives her two teammates a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and judging by the way Bree deflates, she knows that she knows she’s soured the mood. “Trust. I’m not going to fall for Paige and I’m not going to blur those lines. We’re just friends who have to make the best of a weird situation because we fucked up our reputations. Nothing more.”

Bree stares at her long and hard, as if she doesn’t believe her. Tess doesn’t believe herself, either, but she has all the time in the world to start convincing herself that she’s just fine with her situation and there’s nothing to read into. “If you’re sure,” is what Bree says instead.

Tess can only give a half-hearted nod, suddenly feeling a lot less sure.

Her parents arrive shortly after noon as expected. She moved all of her packed belongings to the living room, anticipating their arrival, and she’d nearly teleported to the door once she heard the knock. Kamilla and Bree made themselves scarce after their uncomfortable conversation after breakfast. Tess isn’t sure if it’s because they knew that she needed time alone with her parents or because they were regretting bringing up the Paige situation at all. Maybe it was a mix of both, but Tess remembers she has other things to worry about as she opens the door to her apartment, coming face to face with her parents.

Her mother and her father, Alessandra and Mateo, stand just a few inches taller than she does with her father tallest of their trio. When she was younger, she used to hate that she stopped growing at 5’10 when her parents were 6’0 and 6’3 respectively. It used to make her feel small, like she wasn’t meeting her potential. Now, after everything she’s been through, she falls directly into their open arms and it feels like coming home all over again. They wrap her up tightly, engulfing her completely, and she finds that she has a newfound respect for being the shortest of them.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until she feels her tears soak her mother’s blouse and her mother starts smoothing the hair at the crown of her head. The gentle touch is enough for the dam to finally break. Tess shudders through heaving sobs as her parents hold her tighter, whispering pleasantries in murmured Italian that only makes her wish she’d never shut them out. She wishes she asked them to come down for her surgery, that she asked them to take her home after the fact. She wishes she was cognizant enough to have asked for their help before she let everything consume her. It’s too late for ill-timed wishes, although there’s still plenty of time for her to make up for her misgivings.

Her parents let her cry until there’s nothing left, and only then do they pull away. Her mother wipes away the residual tear tracks on her cheeks with her thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as her father stares at her with a look that mirrors both his concern and his love for her. She stares back at him, at her mother, at the two people who have dropped nearly everything to support her and her dreams. They let her have her way when she couldn’t bear to see anyone after her surgery, they let her have her way when she wanted to move several hundred miles down south for basketball because she believed in what Coach Staley was preaching. Tess feels so much remorse and grief and love constrict around her heart and she can’t stop herself when she rushes out, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I–”

“You have nothing to apologize for, piccola,” her father says, interrupting her spiraling thoughts, but his understanding does nothing to quell the guilt.

“Yes I do,” she chokes out, eyes wide as she stares at the both of them, fresh tears beading at her waterline. “I got hurt and I pushed you guys away and I almost killed myself. I spiraled for a month straight and said awful things and almost ruined my knee for good. People tried so hard to help me and I didn’t let them.”

Her mother squeezes her hand, smiling softly at her. “We are your parents. You do not need to do anything to earn our forgiveness. You have it. Unconditionally.”

Tess’s lip trembles. She tries to fight the tears. “That’s not how that works,” she says weakly.

“Some things don’t have to work any certain way,” her father says. “Sometimes they just are. We’re proud of you, Tess.”

Growing up, people always said that Tess was a mix of her parents. She had her mother’s coiled, dark brown hair, her laugh, her nose, her sarcasm. She had her father’s eyes, his smile, his heart, his drive. Now, she’s beginning to realize that the trait her parents share – their ability to forgive – hasn’t quite reached her just yet.

“You don’t need forgiveness from other people,” her mother says, halting her racing thoughts. “You just need to forgive yourself, sweet girl. Learn from this, bounce back and recover, but you cannot do any of that if you hold the blame close to your heart.”

“I’m trying,” Tess confesses.

Several thoughts swim in her brain. She hears it all. Trying isn’t enough. Try harder. Why did you let it get this bad in the first place? It takes her far too long to realize the voice is her own. Her parents would never say any of that to her. But what they do say instead is, “Sometimes trying is all you can do,” and that’s enough to make her bottom lip wobble again. She launches herself back into their arms as her father continues, “We know you can heal from this. We know it’s hard. But you need to believe in yourself and try.”

The words get stuck in her throat as she tries to breathe through the pounding in her chest. All she can manage is a nod, but they understand her – they always do. Her parents hold her until she comes back to earth, her mother flashing a familiar smile at her. “Are you ready to go?”

Tess nods again, wiping her cheeks again. “Yeah. Just let me say bye to Kam and Bree first.”

Her parents nod, picking up her suitcase, her backpack, and her Amazon box by the door. They exit her apartment with her belongings in tow as Tess makes her way to Bree’s door first, knocking on it gently and waiting for her to open it.

When Bree does, she opens her arms immediately and Tess falls into her embrace. “Have a safe drive, okay?” Bree says, squeezing her. “Call if you need anything.”

“I will,” Tess promises, pulling away.

“Listen,” Bree says. “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t be in your business like that.”

Tess shakes her head. “It’s okay. I know where you’re coming from. Thank you for looking out for me. Just trust that I can look out for myself, too?”

“Done,” she agrees, and she sweeps Tess into one last hug before saying her goodbyes and venturing back into her room.

Kamilla’s room is her final stop. She doesn’t even have to knock before Kamilla opens the door and wraps her arms around Tess. “Don’t miss me too much,” Tess says jokingly, and Kamilla laughs, her chin resting on Tess’s head.

“Too late,” her best friend states. “Come home, Tess Kennedy. The kids miss you.”

Tess grins, rolling her eyes. “Sorry, Kam. I gotta go my own way.”

Kamilla pulls away but smiles fondly at Tess. “Text me when you’re home safe. I don’t care how late it is.”

“I will,” she promises again. Kamilla wraps her up one more time, saying goodbye, and returning to her room.

When Tess makes it back to the living room, her parents are back and empty handed. Tess smiles at them, slipping her crutches under her arms, and together, the three of them begin the 12 hour journey back to Brooklyn.

The first few hours of the drive are dedicated to the much needed conversation with her parents. Tess recaps the last few weeks to her them, explaining her thought process, the loneliness, the near constant knee pain. It’s all smooth sailing until she reaches last week’s events and the meeting with Amaya. She honestly has all intentions of leaving out the Paige situation, not wanting to lie to her parents because she and Paige agreed they wouldn’t tell anyone. If there was one thing Bree was right about, it was the fact that Tess was a shitty liar, and she would prefer to avoid the situation as a whole.

“So what about that blonde guard you’ve been hanging out with?” her dad asks innocently, completely ruining her entire plan.

Fuck. So much for that.

“Um,” she says smartly, a blush rising on her cheeks. Her dad glances up, meeting her eyes in the rear-view mirror, and his lips twitch into a smirk. “We’re taking things slow right now,” she says slowly. “Paige reached out after I tore my ACL and offered her condolences. I didn’t really want to accept help from anyone, but she flew out and surprised me after my meeting with Amaya, and, I don’t know, but it was really nice.”

“Do you like her?” her mother asks.

“Mamma,” she groans, exasperated. Her mom levels her with a look that makes her insides crumble. She remembers that her and Paige aren’t even publicly official, so what’s the harm in downplaying it? “I mean, she gets it, you know?” She gets me, is the clarification that goes unsaid, but Tess gets the idea that her parents understand her meaning just the same. “We play on different teams. I didn’t, um, want to let her get close,” she says tactfully, feeling as the words hit a little too close to home. “But I couldn’t stop it. I like being her friend and talking to her. That’s good enough for me for now.”

Her parents share a look in the front seat. Tess is sweating bullets in the back, trying desperately to distract herself by flipping her phone mindlessly in her hand. Truth be told, she’s not even sure where the truth ends and the lie begins. This whole situation is so messy, she thinks to herself, only snapping out of her thoughts when her mother speaks up. “Well, you sound happy,” she says, which genuinely surprises Tess. Another thing Bree was right about. She cannot control her expressions. “She may be good for you, piccola.”

Tess swallows thickly, craning her head to stare out the window. The trees on the side of the interstate pass by in a blur. She finds them much more interesting to look at now. “I hope so,” Tess says, the words coming to her easily.

Thankfully, her mother cranks up the AC and adjusts in her seat, aiming to take a power nap before she swaps places with Tess’s father to finish out the drive. Her father glances at her once more through the rear view, a knowing smile on his face, which unsettles Tess more than she’d like to admit, but the underlying softness in his eyes makes it hard to be too worried. Releasing a deep breath, she pulls her own blanket over her legs, pops her earbuds in, and leans against the car door as she closes her eyes, hoping to speed the drive along by sleeping through it. They still had another 10 hours to go, and Tess will be close to losing it if she has to talk about Paige for any longer.

The rest of their drive passes in relative peace. Tess crashes for a few hours and wakes up in time to order dinner from a drive-thru. Her parents switch driving duty an hour later at the closest rest stop and Tess takes the time to get out of the car to stretch her leg and use the bathroom. She stocks up on a couple of overpriced vending machine snacks, and before she knows it, they’re back on the road again.

She tries to nap again, but after the three hour snooze she took, she feels more restless than anything. Combined with being in the car for six hours, she’s ready to start running laps, knee be damned. She’s running out of playlists to listen to and she can only play Subway Surfers for so long before she starts getting exhausted of it. As if she senses her turmoil, a text from Paige comes through, and Tess can almost cry with relief, knowing that the blonde will have something stupid to say that will distract her.

Are you alive?

barely the longer we drive the more i wish i took a plane there’s got to be a donor somewhere out there who can give me their knee

So I don’t think that’s actually how that works!

so i don’t think you’re qualified to say that!

I am The ladies call me Dr. Bueckers Okay that was actually worded really bad

“the ladies” huh

Please don’t make this a thing I regretted it as soon as I sent it

every day i wonder how and why girls throw themselves at you you literally can’t flirt for shit you just annoy people and say the stupidest things so confidently

Well you’re still talking to me I think it works

my choices right now are entertaining you or staring out the window for another six hours

This is progress cause a week ago you would have said you’d prefer to stare out the window Tess Kennedy MIGHT like me 🤩

paige bueckers MIGHT be delusional 🤩

The line between delusion and manifestation is thin but I get what I want so just keep on hating

ok bars ur still delusional though

One day I’ll get you to admit it I’ve grown on you

much like a fungus

You think I’m a fun guy!

[8 Ball]

Don’t deflect

are you chicken?

Okay I see how it is

Tess and Paige probably set the record for the most pool games played in one sitting, which is surprising for two reasons. The first being the fact that Paige apparently had nothing going on for six hours, the second being the fact that Paige actually sat and played pool with Tess for six hours. Tess’s eyes had started drooping around 11:30 pm, but she and Paige were tied in how many wins they had (318 each – they kept track in a shared note), so she kept pushing through, even though her eyes burned and she wanted to crash. When Tess claims victory 319, Paige almost loses it.

You’re actually cheating

how tf am i cheating at 8 ball?

You seem like the type to take a screenshot and use the ruler

i’ll have you know i’m a woman of honor and integrity you’re just ass

You say the nicest things Okay one last round and I need to go to bed You’re almost home right?

we have like 20 more min yeah

Lock in

Tess, in fact, does not lock in. Six hours of pool is probably detrimental to her eyesight, so she cuts her losses and accepts one final draw between her and Paige. 319 each is good enough for her – especially with the time inching closer and closer to midnight and the fact she’ll likely see the pool table in her sleep.

Rematch tomorrow?

i don’t think i can ever play 8 ball again it will be too soon when my therapist said to find a new hobby i don’t think this is what she meant

You’re welcome!

i did not say thank you

You didn’t have to But you’re welcome for spending 6 hours on 8 ball with you

thank you

Oh my God that sounded genuine

and you just killed the moment

We were having a moment? 🤭

ok goodnight don’t text me again

You’ll miss me Lemme know when you’re home for real I’ll stay up

you don’t have to

So notice how that wasn’t the request

fine i'll let you know

Paige simply reacts to her message with a heart, and with a soft smile, Tess shuts her phone off and finally gives it a rest after six hours of non-stop use. Her screen time was probably off the charts, but that’s a problem for another time.

The last fifteen minutes of the drive passes by quickly and before she knows it, her mom is pulling into the driveway of their house. Tess could cry in relief, though whether it’s from lingering homesickness or the need to get out of the car, she doesn’t know. Her mother shakes her father awake and together, the two of them grab Tess’s bags from the back while she slips her crutches under her arms as they make their way into the house.

Tess hardly has the time to soak it all in. The last time she was home was during spring break, but right now, her main concern is hauling her ass to bed and passing out. Her parents carefully deposit her belongings on the floor in her room. Sharing one last hug for the night and exhausted goodnights, her parents leave her be and Tess all but collapses into bed. She adjusts the pillow under her knee, plugs in her phone, and opens her messages with Paige.

i'm home

Paige’s response is near instantaneous. Tess wonders if she was hovering, patiently waiting for her message before she let sleep consume her. Tess doesn’t dwell on it, not liking the way the thought made her chest tighten.

Thank you Night ma 🫶

Tess bids her goodnight, too, and she shuts her phone off, placing it on the bedside table. She stares at the ceiling, wondering why Paige’s message leaves an almost foreign stirring feeling in her stomach. But as her eyes slip shut, she determines she’ll just have to deal with it at another time, and she lets sleep finally take her.

MAY 11, 2023 - JUNE 20, 2023

The next month of Tess’s life passes in a blur of PT, weekly therapy appointments, mentoring from various Liberty members (although that was unplanned for), movie nights with her parents, and truthfully far too much Fortnite with Paige. She had her first PT appointment with Theresa, or Terri as she’d insisted Tess call her, on May 11th. As her appointment was in between the Liberty’s first two preseason matches, Tess saw a lot more of the Liberty players than she was expecting to. Stewie is taller than her Wikipedia led Tess to believe and Betnijah was even prettier in person. They all expressed their condolences as they filtered in and out for last minute screenings and check ups, and Tess couldn’t quite lose her stupefied awe no matter how many pros she talked to. She even got a follow back from Stewie, who joked that she was “alright for a Gamecock.”

Tess genuinely felt like she won the lottery. She couldn’t believe Sabrina had reached out for her or that it was even this easy in the first place, though she probably has to give more credit to the Liberty front office for granting their permission and monopolizing on the opportunity. So far, it’s been pretty mutualistic — Tess works with Terri, learns from seasoned veterans, cleans up her image a little more, and honestly increases her draft stock through league exposure; in turn, the Liberty monopolizes on Tess’s branding and status as a college athlete, aiding in growing the scene. There’s a lot of viewers out there who tune in solely for college athletics. The Liberty have already reported an increase in traffic on their websites and even some ticket sales, which Tess is honestly surprised by. She still has another year minimum in college; the fact that people are tuning in for her (when she isn’t even in the league yet) and the fact that she’s helping grow the WNBA simply by hanging out with the Liberty and rehabbing her knee is insane.

That was something Paige had teased her relentlessly about when they both found the time to FaceTime that Friday. Paige’s flight back to Minnesota was delayed a few hours, so she spent most of Thursday at the airport. She and Tess were supposed to chat after she landed, but the blonde went straight to bed once she made it home.

“With the 1st pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, the New York Liberty select—”

“Okay, you’re not funny,” Tess gripes, narrowing her eyes at Paige, who can’t control her laughter from across the screen. Tess is in the middle of setting up her Playstation account, trying — and failing — to remember where most of the buttons are on the controller. Paige already has Fortnite loaded up on her screen and tries her best to help Tess with the logistics, but she keeps getting sidetracked. “The Liberty won’t have first pick for a hot minute. And you’d think they’d take me over Caitlin?”

“Stop talking about other women!” Paige cries. “Am I not enough for you or what?”

“You are so easy to mess with, it’s unreal,” Tess states. She leans in closer to her screen. “What the hell is L1?”

“Top button on the left,” Paige supplies. “The one on the back is the trigger, L2.”

Tess sighs, pressing the button and finishing up some of her customization as she navigates her way to the console store to download Fortnite. “Nerd,” she says under her breath, but the indignant gasp from Paige is the only reaction she needs. “Honestly,” she begins, hesitating slightly. “I might not declare in 2024.”

“What?” Paige blurts. “Don’t tell me you’re quitting ball. An angel just lost its wings.”

“Not like that!” Tess rushes to say. She stares at the download bar as it fills up, not looking at Paige. “I was talking to Sabrina this morning — chill, she is grown and she has a man —” her words do nothing to quell Paige’s dramatic huff, “and she suggested I use my redshirt eligibility and take an extra year. I mean, I’ll be back in time for March Madness and can play a few games with the new redshirting rules, though I’m honestly not feeling confident in returning from an injury, taking on high level play with little to no practice, then declaring for the draft fresh off of recovery. I’m not, like, worried about my ability, but from a purely logistical standpoint, no team would willingly want to draft me in this condition, right? It wouldn’t be safe. I wouldn't be a reliable pick. I feel like it would be good for me to stay, get back into it, and declare when I’m actually at my best.”

Paige is quiet for a moment, and when Tess glances down at her phone, she can see that Paige is deep in thought. When she finally responds, her voice is soft. “I know what you mean. I think you should,” she says. “Stay, I mean. I don’t think I’m declaring in 2024, either.”

Tess smiles knowingly at her. “Oh, you just wanna keep getting dunked on by me, huh?”

Paige rolls her eyes, but grins at her. “You’re 5’10. Only way you’re dunking is if they lower the rims.”

“You’re such an asshole!”

“You started it!” They dissolve into laughter. Tess’s download finally finishes and she opens Fortnite. “I’m serious, though,” Paige continues thoughtfully. “I’ve missed so many games due to injuries. I want a healthy offseason. A healthy season in general. A natty.”

“I always forget you barely have two seasons worth of games played,” Tess admits. “Your stats are kinda crazy.”

Paige smiles smugly. “Super efficient, I know. Don’t get too jealous.”

Tess scoffs. “Every time I say something nice, I immediately regret it. You can never just say thank you, can you?”

“Thank you, Tess Kennedy, I can’t wait until we play each other in 2025 and I stat pad my 3-point percentages 'cause you can’t guard me,” Paige declares confidently.

Tess’s jaw falls open. “I’m more likely to go #1 in the draft than you are to score on me,” she states. Paige raises a brow, as if to say really? and Tess rolls her eyes with an amused smile. “Okay, friend me or something. I don’t know how this works.”

“What’s your Playstation name?”

“tkennedy25.”

“Super original,” Paige says dryly, but quickly enough, she gets a friend request from pboogers1. “Don’t ask.” Tess accepts it with a wry smirk, as well as the party invitation. She watches as Paige’s character spawns on her screen, fully decked out. Tess’s character honestly looks like a loser next to hers, though it’s probably because her starting character is a man. “Where’s your drip at?”

“I don’t know,” Tess whines. “Why am I a man?”

“You gotta play more to get skins,” Paige supplies unhelpfully. “Are you ready to spend the next month playing Fortnite?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope! Ready up!”

Tess does just that. Her first few games are frustrating. She’s still getting accustomed to the button layout and the building in the game sucks, but Paige has endless patience (somehow) and Tess finds herself having more and more fun as Paige tries to guide her through it. She spends a fair bit of time begging for Paige to revive her (fall damage is not a fun concept) and even more time yelling that she’s getting shot at. They’re halfway through a match and making their way into the zone when they come across another duo.

“Flank them!”

“What the fuck does that even mean?!” Tess cries, trying to aim and shoot. Multitasking has never been so difficult.

“I’m at the top of the key,” Paige says. “Go to one of the wings.”

“What do you – ohhhhh.” Tess does as instructed and with both her and Paige firing, the other players are quickly taken down, leaving their loot. “Wait. Why was that actually a good call?”

“There may be hope for you yet, ma,” Paige says, placing a hand over her heart like she’s swooning, and it’s enough to make Tess crack a smile despite the flush on her cheeks.

When they take the win at the end of the round, Tess isn’t sure who’s more surprised – her or Paige. Tess drops her controller on her bed as she cheers – loudly – and Paige buries her head in her hands. If her knee was in better shape, she’s certain she’d be taking victory laps by now.

“I can’t believe you stole my fucking kill,” Paige says in near disbelief. “I did so much damage–”

“Oh, my God!” Tess screams, not processing any of Paige’s words. “We won! Did you see that?” she asks excitedly, barely hearing Paige’s initial response. She digs around in her blankets to locate her phone. When she finally fishes it out, Paige is already gazing at her through the screen, face and smile softening as she takes in Tess’s excitement.

“I did,” Paige confirms. Tess finally keys in on her stupid grin and she feels the flush travel the length of her body.

“I feel like you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m not!” Paige exclaims, and her grin widens. “Just proud, s’all. You went from not knowin’ where X was to gunning people down.”

“We make a good team,” Tess says nonchalantly, but, fuck, Bree is always right – she can’t keep the dumb expression off her face. Her eyes are bright with elation, with the satisfaction that comes with finally understanding something. Paige’s raw honesty and the simple ‘Just proud’ means something different coming from her, even if her pride stems from Tess sucking just a little less at a video game.

Paige’s smile turns tender, and instead of a witty remark, her voice is soft when she admits, “Yeah, we do,” and it makes the warmth creep onto Tess’s cheeks once more. “Couple more?” she asks hopefully. “I got nothin’ but time.”

And that’s how they spend the rest of their day, learning more and more about each other in between game queues and early game rotations. Tess eventually has to get off to save her eyesight and do some PT, but it’s hard to get rid of her smile even after she shuts off the console and she and Paige hang up. When she ventures out of her room for dinner, Tess tries her best to ignore her parents’ knowing smiles. The look in their eyes explains more than their words ever could, and briefly, as she’s layering salad on her plate, Tess thinks of a future where everything is less complicated, where she and Paige don’t have to put a fake label to something they’re not.

But that thought sounds suspiciously like something Tess isn’t ready to face, so she wipes it from her brain and drizzles the balsamic over her salad.

On Saturday, Paige introduces her to Drew. He’s off school for the weekend and Paige asked if she’d be interested in running trios with him. Tess honestly couldn’t think of a world where she’d say no to that, to learning more about who Paige Bueckers is outside of basketball and being a charming mix of annoying and unbelievably sweet. Looks aside, Tess would have assumed that Paige and Drew were fully blood related the way their mannerisms were exactly the same, all the way down to their sassy, “Alright now,” that never failed to make her laugh. Drew tells her all about how his classes are going and how he’s going to be better than Paige at basketball one day. Tess is pretty sure she and Drew become best friends when she tells him, “I think you’re already better than her,” and Paige gasps so indignantly that she almost chokes.

Tess is an only child, but with the speed at which she and Drew bond, she thinks he might become an honorary brother. She’s so focused on Drew that she misses the look of complete adoration on Paige’s face, the tender curve of her smile. She only registers something is off because Paige is unnaturally quiet – which never happens because Paige has a near inability to shut up. It was something Tess had to convince herself was annoying, but now she knows it’s just another part of who Paige is.

“Lock in, Paigey,” Drew tells her, realizing she’s unfocused, too, and his demand makes Tess erupt in laughter.

“Bro, I am locked in!” she exclaims.

The three of them load into the game and Drew drops a marker in the middle of the map. He looks at Paige with an expression that is menacing in the way only a younger sibling can ever be capable of. “You should pay more attention to the game,” he says innocently, “and less on your girlfriend.”

“Drew!” Paige cries, her face reddening. Tess feels the burn on her cheeks but she can’t stop herself from bursting into peals of laughter. Paige drops her controller long enough to bury her face in her hands in exasperation. Drew’s giggles are infectious, which makes it harder for Tess to get the air back in her lungs. “Bro, do not kill my girlfriend. I will hunt you down, swear.”

Drew sticks his thumb and index fingers up in an L shape, shoving his hand in Paige’s face, who pushes him back dramatically. “You both need to lock in,” Tess gripes, but she can’t wipe the smile off her face. “You promised me a win, Paigey.”

Paige scoffs, picking her controller back up. Together, the three of them begin their descent, along with dozens of other players, into the most populated location on the map. “Don’t trip, ma. You know I got you.”

Tess hums, unconvinced. Eventually, they do end up taking the win at the end of the match, which results in Drew showboating after he successfully stole the final kill from Paige. Tess giggles as she watches him run a victory lap around their living room over the phone. Paige meets Tess’s eyes, a fond expression on her face, although she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. The blonde isn’t a different person around her brother by any means. She’s still sarcastic, freakishly charming, but there’s an underlying softness in how she speaks to him that reminds Tess of how Paige speaks to her. She’s not soft because Drew is younger or needs coddling, but Tess suspects that Paige just treats him that way because Drew just means that much to her. There’s an immeasurable amount of care in her heart that most people miss simply because Paige likes to tease, but having grown up similarly, Tess is fine-tuned to the way Paige shows her love, fine-tuned to the way it manifests in their own friendship.

For the next month and some change, this is their routine. Tess and Paige spend hours on FaceTime playing Fortnite. Sometimes it’s with Drew, who yaps just as much as Paige does, but as the time goes by, Tess finds that she truly enjoys listening to the both of them go on. They talk about their blended family and their other siblings, Ryan and Lauren. Paige lights up when Tess asks more about them – it’s obvious that she’s an amazing older sister and her siblings clearly adore her. In turn, Tess opens up about her cousins. Her mother had fertility issues and Tess was their miracle baby; her cousins were the closest people she had to siblings, and she wouldn’t change a thing about it. One day, Drew declared that Tess is his sister now, too, and that was enough to shock Paige and make Tess tear up.

Other times, it’s just her and Paige hanging out alone. They talk about any and everything, poking fun at each other over the simplest things, laughing at stupid shit, and stirring the pot online when they share photos of their wins with cringey captions like, “my duo.”

Tess has never verbalized it before, but she knew it was just as true: Paige gets her. The knee, the on-court pressure, their other shared interests. The understanding between her and Kamilla is different from the one between her and Paige. She lacks the ability to define it, and honestly, she’s not sure how important the actual definition is anymore. She’s acutely aware of just how much of her life she’s inadvertently dampened by trying to understand something before experiencing it. The moral is that Paige has quickly become an integral facet in her life. That thought doesn’t scare her as much as it used to.

“Okay, so what do you notice that’s different about me?” Tess asks coyly one day after she props her phone up on her nightstand, taking a few cautious steps backwards. She places her hands on her hips, watching as Paige taps her chin dramatically.

“Wait, you’re not using your crutches anymore!” the blonde exclaims.

“Nope! Officially cleared.” Tess wiggles her leg, a beaming grin on her face. “Still got the brace, though.”

Their friendship progresses over the month and so does Tess’s recovery. Her wins easily become Paige’s wins. Paige celebrates her with just as much enthusiasm as she celebrates wins on the court, all teeth and wide smiles when Tess reports back with crucial developments in therapy or new developments with her knee. Tess is just as invested in Paige’s life as she is in hers; Tess “officially” meets some of her teammates when they’re on live one night and Paige forces her to join. They spend hours together, and judging by all of the screen recordings they’re tagged in the morning after, they clearly did a good job at pretending to be together (although Bree’s factual statement about Tess being unable to lie swims in Tess’s head on repeat).

When they’re not playing Fortnite or fucking around on the other games Paige forces her to try out, they’re building LEGO sets together. They were on FaceTime one night building two different sets: Tess with a tuxedo cat and Paige with a red rose, and the jokes were flowing. When Paige finished her rose, she displayed it proudly with a cheeky smile, holding it up to her phone screen as if she was giving it to Tess. While Tess rolled her eyes, she couldn’t curb her growing fondness for the blonde, and they both seemed to know it.

“What do we think about the white?” Tess asks another day, holding the aforementioned dress over her body, displaying it for Paige, who sits patiently on the other end of the phone.

The blonde raises an unimpressed brow. “Who all’s gonna be there?”

Tess levels her with an unimpressed look of her own, lowering the dress slightly. “P, it’s my cousin’s baby shower. Take a wild guess.”

Paige raises her hands defensively. “All I’m saying is the white looks good as hell on you. I might have to fly out to make sure no one brings a plus one who’s on some funny shit.”

Tess flushes, but rolls her eyes with a pleased expression. “The white’s nice, right? But look at this gold one I have, too.” Tess hangs the white dress back in her closet, returning with the gold one in tow – it has a slightly longer skirt but it’s a little more snug at the top. Paige is quiet for far too long. Tess narrows her eyes at her, stepping closer to the phone to see what’s going on only to realize Paige is just shamelessly checking her out. “Eyes up here, Romeo. White or gold?”

Paige clears her throat. “Can’t you just wear a paper bag or sum’?”

“To my cousin’s baby shower?” Tess deadpans.

Paige stares back at her with a serious expression. “Well, it’s either the paper bag or you figure out how to become ugly. Only one of those is possible.”

“You are no help at all. Let me call Sabrina –”

“Gold,” Paige interrupts quickly. “You don’t need Sabrina. She’s not even six foot.”

“And her height makes her unfit to pick out dresses, because…why?”

“She don’t see the vision like I do,” the blonde says simply, smirking in a self-satisfied way. “The gold? Immaculate.”

“Spell immaculate.”

Paige gasps indignantly. “Alright! It’s like you’ont even want my help. What am I even here for?”

Tess grins mischeviously at her, returning the dress back to the rack in her closet. “Clearly just to stare at me. You have no shame, Paige Bueckers.”

She raises her eyebrows suggestively, her expression appreciative. “Well, I mean–”

“Goodnight, Paige!”

Somewhere in between late night FaceTimes and breaking the Internet one Instagram comment at a time, their friendship seems to shift. It all becomes natural. She wakes up, responds to Paige’s timely Good morning! texts, reposts her stories and comments on her posts. The longer that this goes on, the less that Tess cares about whoever they’re supposed to be pretending for. Her brand deals are trusting her again and the trolls in her comments start disappearing. Her PT and therapy appointments are going well and she starts feeling like herself again. She’s sure she could credit that to Paige’s near constant presence in her life, but she knows the blonde well enough by now – Paige would emphasize that it’s all Tess. For a while, Tess was fearful of letting this get out of hand, but she’s coming to realize now that she doesn’t mind how their friendship has evolved.

But Tess has been around for long enough to realize that the ball drops sooner rather than later. Late at night in early June, Tess gasps awake with debilitating pain in her knee. It was unexpected – she hadn’t felt it like this in quite a while. Her exercises were going well and she was usually cautious to not overwork herself, but perhaps she did a little too much that day and it’s coming back to bite her in the ass. She groans in pain as she pushes herself into a sitting position, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and blindly reaching for the insulated cup full of ice that she keeps on her nightstand for times like this. Tess digs through her blankets until she finds her phone and turns the flashlight on. She pours some of the ice into a ziplock bag she keeps on hand, zipping it shut tightly and pressing it to her knee. It does little to soothe the pain, but it’s better than nothing, and her breathing becomes a little easier.

It’s only after she takes care of her knee that she finally registers the dryness of her mouth, the thirst for something to numb the pain. She falls back onto her pillows in equal parts frustration and grief – she thought she was past this. She’d made so much progress in therapy and figuring out how to fill her time with new hobbies and activities to distract her. She hadn’t felt an actual craving in a few days, but now, it feels like undoing a month’s worth of work. Tess reaches into the cup and shovels a handful of ice into her mouth. As she chews, it soothes the dryness and the cold is enough to shock her brain, but it’s not enough to regulate her. The pain in her knee combined with the urge to do something she’ll regret makes her feel like she’s drowning again. She could easily satiate it – her parents moved their liquor (not out of distrust, but to keep it out of mind), although she knows where the hiding spots are. She grew up with younger cousins. Knowing how to keep it out of reach was just a matter of responsibility. But now, that responsibility feels uncomfortably like temptation, and it takes everything in her to keep herself rooted to the bed.

Tess reaches for her phone before she even fully processes what she’s doing. She types in her passcode, swipes over to her contacts, and hits call. The phone only rings twice before the line clicks through.

“Tess?” Paige’s voice is quiet, but rough with sleep. Part of Tess feels guilty for waking her up, although the other part of her knows that Paige would have been upset if she didn’t call.

“Hey,” Tess says softly, unconsciously relaxing.

“Are you okay? What’s up?” Paige sounds a little more awake now, shifting around on her bed, and Tess exhales. She hates how much better she does feel just from hearing her voice. Her knee still aches but her brain clears. It’s like coming back up for air after diving.

“I’m sorry for waking you–”

“Don’t,” Paige says firmly, interrupting her. “What's wrong, ma?”

Tess smiles, forgetting Paige can’t see her. “I woke up and I was in so much pain,” she admits in a near whisper, listening to the sound of Paige’s breathing. “Felt like I was tearing my ACL all over again. And then the cravings came back. I was doing so well, like I was improving, but… I’m frustrated and exhausted and my knee hurts so bad, and, I don’t know, I just wanted to hear your voice.” Her confession rings out in the silence of her room. She tries to ignore the way her voice cracks, but her honesty makes the weight on her shoulders feel a little lighter.

“You know you can call me whenever,” Paige says after a while, her voice soft. “I’ll answer.”

“I know.”

“You are improving,” she continues, trying to find the words. “This isn’t a set back, ma, just part of recovery. It’s never gonna be linear. Some nights are gonna be harder than others. But that doesn’t mean you’re going backwards. It just means you gotta fight a little harder.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore,” Tess admits. “I just want to be okay again.”

“You will be,” Paige says confidently, endlessly patient. “Tess Kennedy doesn’t lose to the same opponent twice, right?”

Tess chuckles. “That was kind of a bar.” Paige hums in agreement. “Thank you for picking up.”

Paige makes a noise in the back of her throat, like the idea that she wouldn’t pick up is preposterous. “Always, Tess, you know I got you.” Tess can’t stop the slow smile from spreading across her face. “You want me to stay?”

Tess opens her mouth, hesitating, but reminds herself to be honest. “Can you? Please?”

Paige hums again, her voice sounding sleepy, and Tess relaxes as Paige begins to ramble. “Lauren and Ryan are comin’ up this week. We’re just gonna hang, do a big dinner and shit. I wish they lived closer, but I mean, I’m in Storrs most of the year and they’re getting older so they’ll be goin’ off to college, too. I just really miss them a lot. I think you’d like them. Maybe you can fly up for the holidays and I can introduce you. My parents ask about you. They might like you more than they like me, which is insane…like these past 21 years didn’t mean anything to them.”

“Poor baby,” Tess teases in a soft murmur. She hears Paige snort.

“Are you free, um, fuck – on the holidays?” Tess listens to Paige shuffle around, a smile growing on her lips. “Do you celebrate?”

“Thanksgiving, no; Christmas, yes,” Tess responds. “My parents and I usually just watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV and order a pizza.”

“Lemme fly you out for Thanksgiving? Meet my family?”

Tess hardly has to give it a second thought. “Sounds perfect to me,” she says. “You wanna fly out here after Christmas? New Year’s in New York?”

“Whatever you want,” Paige replies. “You’ll have to give me that insider Kennedy knowledge. How do I get your parents to like me?”

Tess laughs, feeling her eyes droop. “You don’t have to worry about that, trust. My mom thinks you’re good for me. And my dad thinks you’re the worst kept secret in the history of Tess Kennedy’s worst kept secrets.”

“Yeah?” Paige huffs out a quiet laugh. “And what does Tess Kennedy think? Am I good for her?”

Tess struggles to stifle her growing smile as she answers coyly. “What do you think?”

She can almost visualize Paige’s grin. “I make you smile. I think ‘m doing somethin’ right.”

And for that, Tess truly has no rebuttal, embracing the warmth that creeps up her cheeks. Paige keeps speaking and Tess tries her best to stay awake to listen, but the timbre of Paige’s voice reverberates throughout her room and lulls her to sleep. It makes her forget about the ache in her knee and the chaos in her mind. Paige’s soft laugh as she recounts her first dunk is the last thing Tess hears before she succumbs to a blessedly peaceful slumber.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers x oc #uconn wbb #uconn #wbb x reader

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hayakawalove · 9 months ago

Text

A Spoonful of Medicine

Summary: After recovering from a brief bout of illness, you find yourself craving sex. Of course Satoru and Suguru come to your rescue.

A/N: I would definitely try to get myself to be sick so they could take care of me. Also cause I want them to fuck me but that's not the point.

CW: Smut, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Sick, Vaginal Sex, Cunnilingus, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Spit Kink, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Top Suguru, Switch Gojo, Creampie, Fem Reader, AFAB Reader

W/C: 4,018

Soft.

Soft fabric greets your skin as your body rouses awake. You were certain that you were laying on clouds among the gods until your eyes open. Your room fills your vision, your eyes slowly coming into focus.

You check the bedside clock, the time being 11:00 am.

Fuck.

You had slept for 13 hours.

You turn back to look at the ceiling, slowly waking up fully. Trying to recollect memories from the previous night you find yourself coming up empty handed. The farthest you got were bits and pieces of Suguru and Satoru, their warm hands gentle as they cradled you while you drifted in and out of consciousness. While your brain tries to gather the pieces together, a soft scent floats over to you, a mix of meat and spices.

Wait.

You can smell?

It had been days since your nose worked, but now it felt suddenly clear, the scents of the room overwhelming you. You were able to smell Satoru’s cologne on the tshirt you wore, along with the detergent of the sheets below you. In addition to that, you were able to smell something coming from the kitchen.

Suguru must be cooking.

Where was Satoru?

You had been sick for the past four days, nearly bedridden with a cold that hit you like a freight train. The two boys had been at your beck and call the entire time. You almost felt smothered by the amount of love they poured into you. It felt good though, to be cared for.

You sit up and throw your legs off the side of the bed while stretching them, your joints cracking as you shake off the nearly day long slumber. Turning to the nightstand, you grab the thermometer that Suguru had left. With a beep you shove the stick in your mouth, pulling it out when the time is up. 99 F. No fever. You didn't feel sick. In fact, you felt refreshed. Better than you have in a long time.

You crumble up the front of your shirt, bringing it up to your face. Several large whiffs later you feel your head swoon. It had been days since you were able to smell him.

He preferred to wear woody colognes, the addicting cedar scent covering you entirely.

Satoru comes in wearing a face mask, holding medicine in his hands.

“Wake up bunny, it’s time for your next-“ he slides in the room, looking at you.

“You’re up.”

“I’m up.”

He walks over to you, inspecting your face.

“You don’t sound like a 70 year old smoker anymore.”

“And you still sound like an idiot.”

Satoru chuckles at your feistiness. He missed it. He knew to start getting worried about you when you didn’t bite back.

Satoru sets the medicine on the bedside table. Now that he was up close, you were able to get a good look at him. He looked good. He usually did. Okay, he always did. His white hair was fluffy, with bright blue eyes poking out above the mask. He was wearing a black shirt and boxers. Fuck, he looked…

“Hello?” Satoru’s bending over, waving in front of your face.

You get even more flustered once he’s up close. The smell of his shampoo and body wash, an intoxicating mix, over flows your senses. You weren’t freezing from a fever anymore. No, you were hot. Undoubtedly, earnestly, hot. It was almost hard to breathe under the heat of his gaze.

He lifts up a hand and grabs your chin, long fingers splaying on the side of your face. He tilts your head side to side, inspecting something, before facing you forward again. Your stomach burns with need, fingers tingling at the close proximity. You had been so sick you almost forgot what it felt like to be anything but ill. Even if you could forget it, your body hardly did. A familiar sensation builds up between your legs as your eyes lock with Satoru’s.

Something comes over you, and you’re ripping off his mask.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise but he doesn’t have time to ask you what you’re doing as your lips are on his in an instant. You hold his shoulders tight, your lips melding to his. If you could fuse with him, you would. Satoru hums against your lips before pulling away, looking deep into your eyes.

“What, are you trying to infect me? That’s low, even for you.”

“Want you.” Your voice comes out soft.

Satoru audibly swallows, face flashing as if he’s considering it.

He always did give in faster than Suguru.

“You need to rest.”

“No, I need you.”

It’s hard to not pick up on the desperation in your voice. If it were any other time, Satoru might make fun of you. He couldn’t bring himself to make a quip this time though. Not with the way your eyes dragged across his body, your mouth twisting and turning.

Your pussy tingles, your body finally catching up to four days without sex. Yeah sure you were hungry and thirsty, but more than that you were horny.

Satoru wets his bottom lip, stepping closer. His lifts his knee between your legs, towering over you. He was even more beautiful up close.

“Yeah? Careful what you wish for, bunny.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down. Lips lock and tongues dance. He tastes like cereal, sugary goodness embedded in the plush of his lips. You move backward, allowing him more space. His body inches closer to yours as he crawls on the bed, his large body covering yours. Even though there are only centimeters between you two, you make up your mind that he isn’t close enough. Satoru is pliable, body easy to move as you throw him on his back, crawling on top of him. There’s a hunger deep in his eyes as he watches you take control. Your chest heaves as you stare down at him, not knowing where to start but knowing you needed to begin somewhere.

You smash your lips against his, anticipation pouring from you. It had been days since you touched him, days since you tasted him. The second he opens his mouth, your tongue curls against his. You groan in response to the flavor of his spit. He feels like heaven beneath you, his muscles perfectly molding against yours. You grind your hips, searching for some sort of friction and his cock begins to harden underneath you. Satoru’s hands take hold of your hips, easily gliding you back and forth over him.

Satoru didn’t think you were sick anymore, but even if you were he wouldn’t care.

Each time the pressure of his cock nudges your clit, you let out a moan. There were layers of fabric between you two, but it almost didn’t matter. Your entire body was overtly sensitive, your skin tingling with excitement. You buck your hips back forth over him while your tongue explores his mouth. Satoru lets out soft grunts whenever your lips parts from his.

You don’t pay any mind to the door creaking open, much rather focusing on the man below you.

Suguru walks in the room with a tray of food in his hands, his long hair flowing down his back.

“Is that your way of getting her to take her medicine? I guess that makes sense for you Satoru.”

Satoru tries to pull away to bite back a smart remark but you aren’t having it, chasing after his lips with yours.

Suguru walks in the room, setting the tray of food on the beside table. He didn’t feel like he was interrupting anything, so he made no move to rush out. If anything he was curious. Last night you could barely get up to go to the bathroom and now you were devouring Satoru. Above all else, he wanted to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself.

The presence of Suguru didn’t deter you at all. You only had the man below you on your mind. Lips lock as you move your hips faster, the pleasure beginning to build in the pit of your stomach.

Suguru slowly walks around the end of the bed, choosing to sit at the edge next to Satoru’s head.

He speaks your name in a reprimanding tone, eyes narrowed in on your head. You whimper against Satoru, refusing to part from him until Suguru says your name again.

It forces you out of your stupor, making you raise your head up to him. He looks weary, his eyes hollow with dull hair. Suguru hadn’t been sleeping much this past week. He wanted to be awake in case you needed anything. It was so very him. A pang of tenderness shoots through your heart at the sight of your other boyfriend. They were wearing themselves thin taking care of you. But all you could focus on was taking more. Your lungs pant as you look at him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A stupid question at best, he knows what you’re doing.

Your teeth dig in your bottom lip while you try to move against Satoru again.

“You’re sick.” The way he says it makes it sound like it’s the end of the conversation.

“No I’m not, I feel okay.” Your voice catches him by surprise.

You did sound better.

He lifts a hand up and places it against your forehead, trying to check for any signs that you were still burning up.

“Do you?”

“Mhm.” You fidget beneath his watchful gaze.

The way he was looking at you made you to feel so exposed. Like a live wire laying next to a puddle of water.

“Alright I guess, as long as you don’t get Satoru sick too. I can’t handle two sickly babies.”

It’s an attempt at a joke, one that would normally get you. You’re too needy to laugh, instead choosing to resume ministrations on Satoru. You press down until you feel his cock against you again. The pressure against your clit forces a moan from your throat. He felt so fucking good beneath you. You bury your face against Satoru’s neck, your breaths coming out in quick succession. Suguru places his hand on your head, stroking your hair while you rub against Satoru. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself. It was instinctual really, to keep his hands on you at all times. Satoru was the same way. Goosebumps crawl over Satoru as he feels your breaths against his skin.

Your body moves faster, your moans sounding more salacious. Up and down. Up and down. You slide your pussy against Satoru, setting the perfect pace. Satoru’s hard cock presses against your nub, your soaked underwear clinging to you.

More, just a little more…

Satoru holds your waist, his long fingers digging into your tender skin as he drags you back and forth. It was almost embarrassing how fast you were able to make his cock hard. Honestly, he didn’t know how much longer he would last with the way you were going. Your whimpering floats over to his ears, immediately breaking any cogs that might have been working in his head.

It doesn’t take long until you’re pushed over the edge, reaching a breaking point as you cum fully clothed rubbing against his cock. Your movements still while the noise dies down.

“Did you just cum?” Suguru asks, disbelief highlighting in his tone.

The boys know exactly what you sound like when you cum, they were just surprised as it had never happened so fast before.

You nuzzle further into Satoru’s neck, trying to soak up his warmth. You groan against his skin, feeling the aftershocks rush through your body.

“Felt good.”

Your words are almost inaudible against him. Pushing yourself up on your hands you stare down at Satoru. His cheeks are flushed, eyes blown out.

“Get on my face.” Satoru says, his words breathless and almost pained.

You mean to question him, but there’s no room for debate, not with the way his eyes are trained on you.

You shimmy off his body, swiping your clothes off. Even though you just came, your body was still hot, lust burning your skin as each second passed by. Suguru watches as you crawl on top of Satoru’s face, sticky cum covering your pussy. So swollen and needy, Suguru could feel his mouth start to water. Satoru sticks his tongue out and pushes it through your slit, relishing in the moan you let out.

Suguru’s eyes are hazy when you look at him, desire pooling in the depths of his caramel gaze. Your pussy clenches when you meet his eyes. Satoru definitely noticed, as he lets out a groan into you. You look down and see Suguru’s cock beginning to harden in his pants. Fumbling with the zipper, you slide his cock out.

Beautiful, every part of him was beautiful.

It’s hard in your hand, drops of precum pouring from the tip. You wrap your hand around him, sliding down his cock. Suguru shudders at the motion, his abs tightening. He and Satoru didn’t get up to anything while you were sick as they were too busy doting on you.

He didn’t realize how much he needed this until it was actually happening.

Euphoria washes over him as your hand slides along his cock. He throws his head back with his eyes closed, enjoying how your skin feels against his. He loved Satoru’s skin and hands as well, but there was something different about the softness in your palms. He lowers his head and spits on his cock, body tensing once your hand pushes the spit down.

“Just like that baby.” Suguru coos, lips barely parted as he stares down at your fist.

You whimper, watching as Suguru’s spit covers his cock. It’s a filthy sight, the way his saliva spreads around. Heat rushes to your core as Satoru swipes his tongue through you. When you came in your pants, Satoru really had no other choice but to clean you up. His large fingers press into the soft skin of your thighs, leaving you no room to squirm around. His tongue grazes against your clit, forcing you back down when you try to jump away from the contact. Normally he would chuckle at your sensitivity. But he was incredibly serious right now. You started all this, so you were going to take it.

Suguru groans softly as your hand glides against his cock, he was hard as a rock as your hand tightens around him. He really wanted you to rest all day today but fuck, he couldn’t complain with the way your fingers swiped his tip.

You did seem better, he reminds himself.

“Satoru, I can’t take it.” You murmur, his tongue dragging out a slew of moans from you.

“Don’t focus on him baby, focus on me.” Suguru asks, trying to keep his composure.

He tilts your chin to look at him, staring deep into your eyes while your hand strokes him. You had been with the two men for years, and been in love with them for even longer, so why did the intensity of Suguru’s gaze knock you off your feet every time? You dig your teeth into your bottom lip while letting out a whine, the suction on Satoru’s mouth only increasing as time passes.

Suguru watches your face morph from pain to pleasure and back over, and he briefly thinks about asking Satoru to slow down. He doesn’t though, he would never admit it but he secretly gets off on the cruelty they show you. He likes the way you push them away, only to be begging for more moments later.

Satoru isn’t prim and proper as he eats you out. Your room is filled with the sounds of his mouth laving your pussy, the noise embarrassing you.

“So fucking noisy Satoru.” Suguru murmurs, reaching a thumb up to glide across your bottom lip.

You grind your hips harder against Satoru’s tongue, letting out a moan once his lips wrap around your clit.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Suguru speaks lowly, hypnotized with the way you were using Satoru.

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

Suguru hums at your answer, clenching his teeth while you rub his cock.

“Think you’re ready for more?”

You’re at a loss for words so all you can do is nod, very desperately. Suguru cracks a grin before deciding he can’t wait any longer, standing up and moving you off Satoru’s face. Satoru looks delirious under you, your cum smearing across his lips and cheeks. He looks like he wants to complain, but he keeps his mouth shut. Whatever Suguru says, goes, and Satoru is aware of that.

Suguru lays you down on the bed, spreading your legs so wide it almost borders on painful. He slides in between your legs, giving you no time to catch your breath while he rubs his cock down your pussy.

“You scared us princess.” He murmurs, pushing his cock inside you.

Your eyes roll back in your head as you feel him stretch you out.

Suguru’s face pinches as he bottoms out, your pussy giving him little to no room to move. You hadn’t been sick for that long, but it felt like it. His cock had begun to forget the shape of your walls. It seemed you did too, your pussy stretching far more slowly than normal. But that didn’t matter, he would mold you once more.

Satoru pouts behind Suguru, briefly appreciating his form before scooting up beside you. He slides his clothes off and grabs your hand, guiding it towards his hard cock.

Your body moves on impulse as you squeeze him, thoughtlessly guiding your hand up and down his cock. The both of you look like a wreck, while Suguru looks like he’s only getting started.

Suguru watches the minuscule changes in your expression as he pulls out, before slamming himself back in. The moan you let out is pornographic. He almost blames you for how fucked you’re gonna get because honestly you gave him no choice looking and sounding like that.

Your eyes feel droopy, but you refuse to shut them. The sight of the two men before you makes your mind run, your body already so close to cumming.

Satoru, his head rung low, bangs obscuring his beautiful eyes as you pump his cock. His stomach tightening each time your fingers reach his tip before gliding back down.

Suguru, whose face was the definition of sinful in the way he watched you, pressing his cock deep inside your pussy.

It’s almost impossible to divide your attention between the two. Each time you slow down on Satoru, he lets out a begging shaking breath, but whenever you lose focus on Suguru he’s fucking into you faster.

It’s like they were competing for your attention.

Suguru grips your other hand and brings it to his mouth, pushing your fingers past his lips so he can suck them. The feeling only increases your sensitivity, making your moans come out louder.

He pulls them out and you throw your head back when you notice the saliva dripping from your fingers. He was so fucking hot, and he didn’t even try. He guides them to your pussy, resting them against your clit. Your pussy was soaked already between your cum and Satoru’s spit, but that didn’t matter. You would gladly accept whatever Suguru gave you. You try to circle your clit, but you can’t. Not at the pace that would get you off.

Suguru slams into you, tilting your hips in a way that makes his cock rub against your gspot. He notices that you’re having a hard time focusing on rubbing your clit so he slows down, pulling his cock out before pressing it back in.

Cute, he thought. Your poor little head could hardly focus on everything at once.

Your legs trap his hips in, fingers starting to move faster. Both men have their eyes on you as you moan, body contorting as you inch closer to the high.

Fingers skip along your clit as you feel yourself clench around Suguru. Desperate moans fall from your lips as your vision goes dark. It comes on suddenly, your body shaking beneath Suguru as you cum. They let out moans watching you, their bodies reacting to the way you sound.

It hits Suguru harder than it hits Satoru. He can feel the way your pussy clings to him, the way your body trembles beneath his large frame. There’s no reason to take it easy on you anymore so he starts fucking into you more at a rough pace. His cock pounds inside you, teetering between pleasure and pain. Your hand flies up to grip his chest, fingers slippery from your cum.

“Come on baby you can take it.” He finds himself saying, noticing the way you try to back off.

“No I- it’s too much, it’s too much.” You plea, his cock penetrating you.

He loves how pathetic you sound.

Your pussy clings to his cock as his hips slow down, his cock jumping as he cums inside you. It almost feels like he’s suffocating with the way you grip him. He stills completely, relaxing in content. It felt like a weight was lifted off his chest when he came.

Satoru shakes you both from your post sex bliss. He’s a mess beside you, body slick with sweat with a jutted out lip.

“Aw, poor baby.” Suguru says, eyes glazed over as he watches Satoru.

“Shut up.” Satoru has no bite to his tone.

Suguru’s eyes narrow at the comment. He leans over, cock still plugging you up, and grabs Satoru’s face.

“Watch your mouth.”

Your pussy clenches at Suguru’s tone. His lip quirks up at your reaction before he trains it down. Your hand rubs Satoru’s cock faster now, body trembling at the idea of making him cum. The noises he lets out were a mix between hot and cute. He liked acting all tough, but you knew whenever he was in the sheets his voice betrayed him.

Your hand tightens around his cock, brows furrowing when his hips jump to meet your hand. You were so eager to watch him fall apart in front of you.

“F-fuck.” Satoru’s delirious as he murmurs to himself.

His cock was so hard it hurt. From the taste of your pussy on his tongue to him watching Suguru fuck you, he could hardly take it anymore.

“F-fuck, hah, I,” Satoru groans your name.

Suguru watches your slippery hand tug Satoru’s cock. He did feel a little bad that Satoru hadn’t finished yet. Suguru leans down and lets his teeth dig into Satoru’s throat, sucking lightly. The mixture of sensations causes Satoru to hurl closer to the edge. He humps your fist pathetically as he grabs onto Suguru’s hair.

“G-gonna cum.” It’s hard to hear him over the sound of his cock in your hand.

Suguru reaches a hand down, covering yours, and starts to rub Satoru’s cock. The feeling of his palm pressing into yours makes you squeeze Satoru harder. He groans at the pressure, his stomach flexing.

Satoru cums hard in both your hands, the white silky liquid overflowing your fingers. Suguru removes his hand first, licking his fingers as he slides out of your pussy.

It’s hard not to complain at the feeling but you keep it in. You use a towel that Suguru provides to wipe up Satoru’s cum. Your body feels way heavier, sinking into the bed after everything. Satoru flops beside you, always extremely needy after sex. His arms wrap around you, pulling you into his body.

Suguru stares at the tray of food, his brows pinched.

“Guess I’ll have to heat that up.”

You chuckle. Eventually you would eat, but for now all you wanted to do was lay down with the both of them.

“You don’t need to feed me anymore, I’m feeling better.”

“I can tell.” Suguru murmurs.

The boys laugh at you as you all push together, fitting together like a perfect puzzle, warmth spreading between you.

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @constawrites

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stardancerluv · 1 month ago

Text

What the Emperor Wants

Part Ten

Summary: Out in the country, feelings are revealed.

Notes/Warnings: 18+ mentions of arousal, dated beliefs in god/s, dated beliefs between men & women. Art/photos of sculptures used in collage are to display & give an example of some possible moments that take place in the chapter.

❤️s, comments, feedback, reblogs are all welcome and appreciated. It’s a longer chapter, but didn’t want to interrupt some of its flow. Thank you for reading! ❤️

There were so many people at the Villa, you were taken aback. So you were grateful for Aelia, at least you knew her. She showed you around while Geta tended to some matters.

Feeling terribly flustered, you found yourself outside. You smiled, spotting a small pond. Gathering your clothes, you sat down beside it. The sun was warm and the grass was soft. Seeing little fish swimming made you smile.

Leaning closer to get a better look at them, you saw your own reflection. You gasped. You had not realized how much of a lady you had become. You wondered, if your mother would recognize you. Did being around the emperor truly do this to you?

“There is the sweetest blossom of Rome. She is near fresh water. Neptune, I pray does not see you and fall in love.”

You blushed and glancing back at the clear, water smiling as a fishes swished by.

“Geta, such honey like words. Be careful we should not upset the gods.”

“I merely hope he realizes my gratitude to have such a blossom such as you.”

Your cheeks remained aflame with his words

“You are in touch with them more than I. Surely, they are aware of your true emotions.”

“I certainly hope so.”

With a soft sound, pushed himself away from the tall tree that had given you shade and he drew close; his clothes brushed you as he knelt near you.

“I already feel the good humors for being here.”

“It is the same for me. Though, I fear I may lose my way in those hallways at least once while we are here.”

You shyly looked away. A chuckle from Geta made your cheeks feel warmer.

“I had to reorient myself as well.”

Your eyes grew as you looked back at him. “Truly?”

He nodded. “Yes, I have some new furniture, works of art that have acquired since I was last here. Accommodations were also made for you.”

“I hope I wasn’t too much of an inconvenience.”

He shook his head. “Not at all.”

********

He swallowed, the good humors filled him to brim when he was around you. It made him restless. Made him want to do a great many things.

He slipped his hand into the folds of his clothing. His fingers easily found the small pocket that had been sewn into several of his garments. Usually he carried with him a small leaf, that he would urge Caracalla to chew on when he had one of his fits or just fretted.

Now, it held something different. A little trinket. A bracelet. He had been looking at the jewelry that he had debated wearing at the villa. It was the least he could give you for saving his life.

“Geta, are you alright?”

He rose his eyebrows. “Yes? What? Why do you ask?”

As he glanced at you he could see concern splashed on it.

“You appeared to be elsewhere, you had grown silent.”

“I am good. Very good.” He nodded. He let his fingers brush against the small treasure a final time.

“I have a gift for you.” Geta said softly.

Glancing around, he did not know why, it was not as if he cared for the words or thoughts of others. Drawing closer to you, where you sat by the pond.

“It is not everyday when one takes an active hand in saving my life. I found this treasure.”

He took his closed hand from the folds of his clothes. He opened it. The sun rays happy danced on its accents. It was lovely, gentle like you were. Not has bold as some of the pieces him or Caracalla would wear.

“Oh, Geta. I…I don’t know what to say. Such finery for me.” Your voice shook.

It caused him to inwardly tremble.

“Do you like it?”

“I do. It’s just, by the gods I never even wished.”

“That is why your emperor has bestowed it upon you, not them.”

“Yes. You have.”

“Allow me then to slip it on you.”

You nodded. “Please. I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

Easily he moved the metals as they should. He grazed his thumb over the bracelet.

“I like it. I chose wisely.” He placed your hand back into your lap.

“Oh, it is wonderful.” You brought your hand to your shoulder.

“Very fitting for one who saved me.” He smiled.

He watched as your eyes twinkled, your face became as brilliant as the sun above. His heart raced he wanted to kiss you. He would.

You trembled at the suddenness of it. But then he felt as you melted against him. Your lips responded to his.

Easily, moving just the right way he hung over you as you easily laid back. Your hair became even richer in color as the loose strands from the ribbons laid in abandon against the soft green grass. His heart beat harder as he hung over you, he anchored one of his hands in the soft earth.

Breaking the kiss so he may take a breath and allow you one as well, he smiled as you reached up and your fingers nestled in his hair.

Drawing close to you once more, his nose, his lips grazed your cheek. “You are as lovely as any nymph lucky enough to have caught the eye of a god.” He whispered in your ear. “But tell me dear nymph you will give chase and make me chase you?”

He pulled back so he could look at you as you spoke.

“Only if he wishes it.”

He smiled. “Good. Right now, I do not. I do not wish to live the tale of the mighty Apollo and Daphne.”

As he spoke those words he saw your eyes become watery.

“You know of their story.”

You nodded.

He swallowed. The words came and knot that had been tightening unbeknownst to him loosen ceased to be.

“My dear blossom.” He whispered in your ear. “I have come to care. Perhaps, my elation, my tenderness is from all that transpired. But, I promise to take care of you and devote my affections solely to you. Please do not wither into a tree where all I can do is only admire from afar.”

A tear slipped from one of your eyes. “No, I promise, as long as we can share a tenderness I will not take root and become a mere tree.”

His lips met yours.

********

You felt wonderfully rejuvenated. He had ordered a bath for the two of you. Any of the knots that had held over from the carriage ride were now gone. Now, candles flickered making shadows dance as the two of you lounged and ate.

Occasionally, you couldn’t resist looking at your wrist where the bracelet twinkled. You would not worry about what may or may not happen when you would be seen wearing it.

“How long will we be here at the villa?”

Geta, shrugged. “A few days at the very least. I already feel much better and it’s only been a day.”

You nodded and happily nibbled on the fish that was on your plate. It was fresh, mich fresher than what was served at the Domus in the city. It reminded you of the fresh fish your mother would serve your family.

“It is very different than the city. I had forgotten one can hear bird calls floating on the breeze.”

“They sound different than in the city.”

You nodded once again. “There they only know of their cages.”

“Beautiful cages, I had an artist craft a lovely one.”

“They were lovely and safe in it.”

A rich chuckle came from Geta, you glanced at him.

“Dondas, is also not harassing any of them here.”

You giggled. “Dondas is cute.”

Geta rose an eyebrow. “He’s a menace.”

“At least he makes Caracalla happy.”

“That is true.” He took a sip from his wine. “Speaking of animals, have you ever ridden on a horse?”

You looked off as if you could see the moment. “Only once.”

You still could remember the feel of the animal, how your mother had controlled the straps of rope used to control the animal.

“Oh?”

“The day, I learned how to treat a wound. My mother had snatched me up when she went to retrieve what was needed. I was small enough to ride with her and hold the items.”

“You need to have a real ride.” A pleased look came over him.

You watched as he pressed his lips together, while glancing at his arm. “Should you look at it again?”

“Yes. We don’t want darkness to seep in.”

“I will have them fetch whatever you need.”

*******

“Aelia?” You glanced at the woman who stood by the door. “Do you wish to watch me check on our Sire’s arm?”

“Oh? Yes. This is very fascinating. Never seen anything like it.”

He slipped from the top of his robe. The soft fabric pooled around his waist. His chest, resembling some of the carved statues you had seen in the gardens.

“It may still sting.” You said softly as you met his eyes.

He nodded.

Gently, you peeled back the cloth. It looked good. Not dark. Soon you poured some of the vinegar and clear oil on it to clean it.

Geta hissed.

You glanced at him under your lashes. “It doesn’t hurt too much does it?”

“I do not like it. I will be fine.”

******

You reached up to the broach that was the cause for all of this. Your finger traced the edge of it.

Geta’s and Aelia’s voice were only murmurs to you has you stood by window that led to balcony. Should you undo the clasp that held the fabrics of your clothes together, you wondered.

He had not dismissed you. Did he need you? A flutter excitement filled you. How he had wanted to be you before the party had stolen your breath. Apart of you should be scandalized, you were no harlot despite being his but it had felt so good. you enjoyed being joined with him.

You gasped as a warm hand settled on your stomach and you were pulled close. You’d know his strong frame now anywhere.

“My sire.”

An admonishing sound came from him. He was so close, you could feel the warmth of his breath.

“Geta, my emperor you wish to be this close?”

You turned your head just enough to see the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his lips.

“I do.”

You felt as he held you tighter against him. A gasp came from you as his arousal pressed against you. Your heart squeezed. Not in fear but in anticipation.

A soft, low chuckle came from him. “You feel what you have done to me.”

You nodded.

“You have entranced my loins.”

“I have?” You managed. “You have quickened my heart.”

“Oh? Have I?” His voice grew deeper.

You felt as his hand drifted up your torso, which made it beat harder.

“My emperor?” You breathed.

“I want to feel.” His hand then laid where it beat. A soft sound came from him. “I enjoy causing this response in you.”

You trembled as his hand then slipped under the soft fabric that had been wrapped around and draped from you. It was even warmer and softer feeling as it laid against your skin. His rings were a cool contrast.

Lightning then streaked across the ebony sky, and thunder crashed as if drums from all over were struck. Without a thought, a cry of surprise came from within you and turning you nestled against Geta. You easily found his throat and hid your face there. He smelled of honey, fruits. It was very pleasing, it felt right.

You felt as his hand rubbed your back. “My little blossom. Jupiter is just sharing his pleasure with us. From his perch in the sky above, he saw and heard us. He gave us his blessing.”

You didn’t move you. “Even though, I am just a girl who was blessed that you made me yours.” You whispered.

Despite the twinges of worry that prickled you, deep inside the desire to press your lips to his throat grew.

He chuckled. “Jupiter is very pleased. I saw you and made you mine, just as he goes after what he wants.”

The sky once again brightened as lightning streaked across once again, thunder rumbled not long after.

Hearing his words, you felt reassured. Making Jupiter happy was above all. Geta followed close to the mighty Jupiter. You felt such a great honor in all of this.

Following your urges, you pressed your lips to his throat.

@honey-eyed-munson @amethyst-serenade @screaming-blue-bagel @kitkat80 @blondie324 @alyisdead @hellomadamebutterfly @laura-naruto-fan1998 @helsa3942

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nagaytoe · 16 days ago

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Nativitas Domini

(noun) [Latin] Lord's birth

Jericho Ichabod X Reader

Word count: 5.6k

Requests: open

Note: Me writing something that's not Sol X Reader?! And it's fluff on top of that?! (I have actually never written fluff before if i recall correctly)

Unbelievable... Enjoy this Christmas special though, y'all (even though it's a tad bit late but better late than never, am I right?) and apologies for not having posted any one shot in three weeks (I was in a bad writing slump)

I initially wanted to make this another angst but I was too in love with the fluff, I couldn't bring myself to destroy that...

“My Love, wake up.”

A soft voice woke you from your deep slumber. You opened your eyes slowly, blinking away the remnants of sleep still clearly visible in your gaze.

“Crowe?”

You opened your eyes fully to reveal your lover's silhouette in front of the window, shielding your eyes from direct sunlight.

“Have you slept well?” Crowe brushed your hair out of your face and behind your ear. His gaze was full of love and admiration, as if you were the most precious gem, the most beautiful being he has ever laid eyes on. You hummed in quiet agreement and he chuckled.

“That’s good, that’s good. We still have quite some things planned for today, remember?”

You pondered for a moment, gathering your thoughts, since your mind was still foggy from sleep. Another quiet chuckle snapped you out of your thoughts as a hand was placed on the top of your head, ruffling your hair.

“We wanted to go shopping for presents, then bake some cookies and then go to Jess’ and Brittney's place to celebrate with the others. It’s already 10 am, it might be better if we get started soon.”

You slowly sat up on the bed, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and yawning.

“I already made breakfast, the only missing piece at the table is you.” Crowe stretched out his hand towards you, a gentle smile playing on his lips. You looked at him for a moment, unable to believe that he is actually here with you, by your side. Taking his hand and nodding, Crowe helped you get out of the bed and the two of you walked towards the kitchen together.

The smell of pancakes and orange juice invaded your senses and you soon saw what Crowe had prepared for you. The table was set for two people, in the middle of the round surface was a plate, soft and thick pancakes stacked on top of it. Next to it was a juice pitcher, filled with your favorite juice. However, these weren't the only things on the table. A big bouquet with the most colorful flowers was placed next to your plate and cutlery.

You let out a soft gasp, looking over at Crowe with a wide smile, your eyes glistening.

“Crowe…they are beautiful…”

Walking up behind you and wrapping his arm around your waist, Crowe pressed a kiss on the crown of your hair. “They are no match for you though…”

You giggled softly in response and leant into Crowe's embrace.

“I love them, Crowe, thank you so much…”

The bouquet truly was beautiful. Purple calla lilies, white baby’s breaths and blue agapanthuses. The colors reminded you of Crowe, with his blue eyes and usual purple attire.

Crowe pulled your chair back, gesturing for you to sit down. Right after you sat down he moved around the table, sitting down in front of you. You loved mornings like these, even when the sun was absent they were filled with warmth. It was domestic. It was real. Sometimes you couldn't quite believe your luck. How were you fortunate enough to end up with someone like Jericho?

“[____]?”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by your lover's voice. Looking up, you saw him smiling at you with admiration and a hint of amusement in his eyes. His arm was propped up on the table, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand.

“What are you thinking about, Love?”

A warm feeling spread through your chest. You were still crushing on him as hard as on the first day. His words, his voice, his personality, his looks… Everything about him was perfect.

“I'm just… thinking about how lucky I am to be with you.”

A swift look of surprise brushed over Crowe's features before he smiled brighter than before. He reached over the table, taking your hand into his bigger, warmer one. “I am the lucky one, my Starlight.”

Swooning at his words, you realized that he had pretty much ruined you for everyone else, Crowe had you on the hook. You doubted that you could ever love someone like you loved him, but then again, you didn't plan to either.

You gave him a sweet smile and he let go of your hand after a few beats, gesturing for you to fill your plate with the pancakes he had prepared. He did this pretty often, surprising you with self-made breakfast, yet you fell head over heels for him over and over again, no matter how often he did it.

Reaching over with knife and fork, you took two pancakes off the pile, filling your plate with them. As soon as you took a bite you perked up. “Crowe, they taste amazing, did you change the recipe up?”

The pancakes were fluffy and sweet, even sweeter than usually. “Just a tad bit. I know that you have kind of a sweet tooth, so I added a bit more sugar.”

You weren't sure what was sweeter, your boyfriend or the sugar he added.

He was probably sweeter, even though he didn't have much of a sweet tooth himself. That brought up another question, however.

“What about you though? You aren't that fond of too much sugar.”

“I can handle a bit more sweetness in my pancakes. After all, I handle you everyday and you are by far sweeter than any pancake I could ever make.”

You had to suppress a grin at that. He could be so cheesy sometimes.

Time seemed to pass way too fast, it felt like the two of you finished breakfast in no time.

“I'll clean up, you can get ready in the meantime, Darling” Crowe took his and your plate and brought them to the kitchen sink. Thanking him, you stood up and you made your way to your shared bedroom to get dressed. You took a look out the window, snow was painting the world in a pure, innocent shade of white and created a calm, serene image. Perhaps Crowe and you can build a snowman later if you have enough time.

Walking up to the closet, you were pondering on what to wear. Crowe was wearing a purple sweater and black slacks, perhaps you could put on a matching outfit. After all, he loved when the two of you wore matching outfits.

You took a pair of black pants out of your closet, before looking for a purple sweater. You had one, albeit the color being a bit lighter, it would have to do.

The colors purple and blue had a special spot in your heart, every time you saw them, you were reminded of Crowe.

He was everywhere, his essence in everything.

The night sky, the ocean, the flowers in your garden during the warmer seasons and the bouquet he gave you this morning, even in your closet you found these colors more present than before.

You walked into the narrow hallway, painted dark red with a birch wood floor, to see Crowe was already putting on his shoes, sitting on the bench near the door. As soon as he was finished and laid eyes on you, he couldn't help but chuckle. “I feel like I have seen that outfit before somewhere…” He walked up to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you to his chest. “I love you so much, you know that?” He leant down to press a kiss to your forehead, before wrapping both arms around you in a loving embrace. “I love you too, Jericho… More than words can ever describe…”

Crowe pulled back to look at you and raised his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking over the soft skin. Before you met him, you didn't know that it was humanly possible to look at someone the way he looked at you, but he proved to you that it indeed was possible and even if it wasn't, he would make it possible.

His bright blue eyes were filled with so much love, you couldn't begin to comprehend just how much love he felt for you.

Your face was gently pulled closer to his by the hand holding your cheek, his own face moving closer at the same time, before your lips met in a sweet kiss. It was an attempt at expressing your feelings for each other, but this universal act of love could only scratch the surface of what truly laid beneath your exteriors. Beneath all that skin, bone and flesh laid a love so profound, it almost made your hearts burst.

Crowe pulled back eventually, but you didn't leave his embrace without him planting another kiss on your forehead. He turned to take your black coat off the hanger and helped you put it on in his usual gentleman-like fashion. While he was looking for something in the hallway's dresser you were putting on your boots. The coat you were currently wearing matched his perfectly well, only your boots weren't matching - his being dark brown and yours being black - but you weren't going to nit-pick every small detail. Crowe stood in front of you again, a purple scarf in his hands. “It's cold outside, my Love, you'll need this.” His voice was as soft and caring as always, while he gently wrapped the scarf around your neck.

Opening the front door, Crowe gestured for you to walk outside before him. He followed close behind, taking your hand in his as he left the house with you and closed the door behind him. As you made your way towards the shopping center, the snow crunched under your boots, accentuating every step.

Despite the thick clothes you were wearing, which engulfed you in a comfortable warmth, the cool december breeze made you shiver. The coldness was slowly biting away at your skin and you tried your best to bury your face in your scarf, though it didn’t help with warming your face as much as you had hoped. Crowe squeezed your hand at this, trying to reassure you. “Don't worry, my Love, we'll be there in no time.”

The walk to the shopping center was peaceful, you walked by multiple groups of children who were building a snowman or having snowball fights. Looking around, you found everything to be covered in thick, white snow, giving the usually dull surroundings an almost magical feeling. It might be cold right now, but at least it was beautiful outside.

The mall wasn’t too far either, luckily. In this type of weather it was going to take around fifteen minutes to reach it, which felt like fifteen seconds in Crowe’s presence. That was one of the many things you loved about him. Any task, any situation, no matter how daunting or boring they may be, they seemed way easier to conquer with Crowe by your side.

The mall was bustling with life, chatter and laughter everywhere. Christmas tunes played from every corner and matching decorations were hung up everywhere. However, the highlight was the 30 feet tall christmas tree in the middle of the mall, cladded with different types of ornaments, ranging from fairy lights and tinsel to brightly colored baubles and little angels hanging from the branches.

“Whose present should we get first?”

You pondered for a moment at Crowe's question, “Jess. I already have something for her.”

Crowe quirked his eyebrow at that. “Lead the way then.”

You tugged Crowe along with you, leading him to a record store. “You know how Jess is absolutely obsessed with Eries, right?”, You looked up at him, feeling a little silly for asking this as you realized that he obviously knows, since he was the one who told you that information in the first place, “Of course you do…Anyways, I was thinking about getting her a vinyl record.”

“Does she even have a record player?”

You shook your head, “Nope, but knowing her, she wouldn’t play the record anyways, however, she would hang it up on the wall for everyone to see, just like her other prized possessions.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t have it already though? She’s one of his biggest fans after all, I kind of doubt that she doesn’t have all his merchandise by now.” Crowe’s question was a valid one, you haven’t told him that piece of information yet, since it was more of an impulsive decision. “I know that she doesn’t have it, she told me herself. See, we were talking about this special edition record of Eries newest album coming out and when the presale was happening, she didn’t manage to get a copy. I, however, did.”

Crowe furrowed his eyebrows at your explanation, still not getting the full picture, “Why did you try to obtain a copy in the first place? As far as I know, you’re not one of his fangirls.”

“Well, I thought it would make a nice present if she didn’t manage to get a copy. And if she had managed to get a copy I would have given it to another friend of mine, who likes Eries as well, but isn’t big enough of a fan to buy limited edition stuff.”

“You had a full-on masterplan, huh?”

You nodded eagerly at his reply, “All that’s left to do is to pick up the copy from the record shop.”

Tugging your boyfriend through the crowd, you weasel your way towards the record store. As soon as you arrived you were met with seemingly endless rows of shelves, packed to the brim with colorful records and the speakers faintly playing a Christmas song.

“By the way, how much was that record?”

You gave Crowe a side-eye, before averting your gaze as you walked towards the register. “Way too much…”, you muttered under your breath before clearing your throat. “But Jess is an amazing friend…I’m sure she’ll love this present!”

Crowe shook his head in disbelief with an airy laugh, “I’m sure she will, but I would still like to know how much that record was, you know? After all, we did agree on splitting the costs for the presents in half.”

You mumbled a response under your breath, incoherent to Crowe’s ears. When he asked again, your response was still quiet, but he heard your answer at last, “Sixty-five bucks…”

Crowe’s bright blue eyes widened a little in surprise, which is why you decided to quickly reassure him, “I know it’s a lot, that’s why the record will be on me, you don’t have to pay half the price-”

“Nonsense, I’ll pay half the price, just like we agreed, don’t worry about it, my Love” He cut you off, holding his hand up in the air to stop your rambling. You gave him a soft smile, your face a little flushed as you muttered a small “Thank you”, fully aware that debating with him on this matter will get you nowhere.

After informing the employee at the register about the order you wanted to pick up, he went to the back and swiftly returned with it, handing the record to you with a sweet smile.

Crowe wrapped his arm around your waist, an innocent gesture, though a hint of jealousy laced it. You were his partner after all, he should -and would- let the whole world know how lucky he got, even if this poor employee probably didn’t have any ulterior motives behind his smile and wave good-bye.

“How about we get Brittney’s present next?” Crowe asked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as the two of you made your way out of the record store. You nodded, thinking back to all the times Brit told you something related to her interests.

“Do you already have something in mind?”, Crowe asked as he scanned your contemplating expression. You slowly nodded, “Yeah… she mentioned something about this skin care set she thought about getting. It’s a bit pricey, though…”

Crowe smiled softly at you, letting go of your hand and stroking the back of your head softly. “Don’t worry about it, my Love. If something is out of your budget I don’t mind paying more than half the price or entirely for the present.”

Your head snapped towards him as you immediately protested, “No way in hell am I gonna let you pay for everything yourself, that wouldn’t be fair at all!”

Your boyfriend could only chuckle in response, shaking his head lightly, “Whatever you say, Love…”

The two of you made your way towards the mall’s beauty store, Crowe’s hand tightly holding your own, almost as if he was afraid you would be swept away by the crowd of people present. It didn’t take long for you to find the skin care set Brittney told you about, despite the shelves being lined with all kinds of beauty products, ranging from perfume to high-end makeup products. Albeit the fairly high price the set was almost sold out and you barely managed to grab one of the last boxes.

The store was filled to the brim with teenage girls and husbands with their wives, all of them trying to find last minute presents for their loved ones. Thus, Crowe and you had to wait quite some time at the register, however, time always seemed to pass in the blink of an eye whenever he was with you.

“By the way, what should we get Deryl?”

You looked up at Crowe, waiting for a response as he pondered for a moment.

“Well, he loves football and sweets… though I believe you know as much about football as I do, which is practically nothing at all.”, Crowe chuckled slightly and of course he was right, both of you barely had any knowledge about football.

“Then sweets it is, we just have to hope that he eats them in private and not at the party, unless we want him bouncing off the walls-” You cut yourself off with a gasp as an idea hit you, “How about one of these international sweets boxes? As far as I know there is a shop here which sells sweets from all around the world. I believe that would make a great present for Deryl!”

Your boyfriend smiled gently at you as he responded, “Great thinking, let’s go there once we’re finished here.”

Crowe and you checked out at the register and made your way towards the sweets store shortly after.

The sweets store was probably the most colorful shop in the entire shopping center, the walls were painted in bright colors and even the tiles on the floor were practically glowing in neon hues. The shelves were lined with all kinds of sweets, all of them wrapped in bright packaging and sorted into different aisles depending on which country they’re from.

“Is there anything specific Deryl likes?” Crowe shook his head in response, thus you took it upon yourself to search for tasty-looking sweets, hooking a shopping basket on your arm.

You were able to fill the basket in no time with all different types of sweets; savory ones, sour ones and just classical sweet ones.

“Those are quite a lot of sweets… it might be better to give him this when we are about to leave…”

You raised an eyebrow at Crowe’s suggestion, “And leave the others with the mess of a Deryl who is high on sugar?”

He smirked smugly at you in reply and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

The two of you wrapped up at the sweets store not long after, walking out with two shopping bags in your right hand, one containing Brittney’s and one Jess’ present, and a big box of sweets for Deryl tucked away under Crowe’s left arm.

“We still need to get a present for Geo, do you have any idea what we could get him? It’s not like that guy is an open book when it comes to anything regarding him personally…”

“I already have something in mind for Geo, don’t worry.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise at Crowe’s declaration.

“Follow me.”, He took your free hand in his, making his way through the crowd and leading you to the mall’s exit.

Curious as to where Crowe was taking you, you couldn’t help but ask him, “Where are we going, Crowe?”

“To the box office, it’s on the way home anyways.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his response, but decided not to dwell on it. You would see what Crowe is up to soon enough, since the box office was pretty close to the mall.

As you left the shopping center, the coldness engulfed you in an icy embrace, stinging at your flesh. You immediately missed the comforting warmth of the shopping center, even if the atmosphere was chaotic. The only source of warmth you now had were your thick clothes and the warmth of your boyfriend’s soft hand, but all this didn’t do much to keep you from shivering.

After what felt like an eternity out in the harsh coldness of December, you finally reached the box office.

Crowe leant a little towards the cashier as he spoke his request, “I’d like to buy a gift voucher for 75 dollars, please.”

You lifted your eyebrows up slightly, before nudging him softly with your elbow while the employee was preparing the voucher. “I would have thought that you were gonna give him a present that’s more… personal.” Crowe looked at you for a moment, processing your words.

“Well, he’s not the type to be against vouchers as a gift, in fact, he thinks it’s the best type of present to give to someone; if it’s required to give them something, that is.”

“I guess that makes sense for him… he doesn’t seem like the type to give others personalized presents… or any at all, to be honest…”

Crowe couldn’t help but chuckle at your reply, “Yeah, he finds it to be the most practical type of present and I am not going to disagree with him on that, I get where he’s coming from.”

You nodded in silent agreement as the employee finished wrapping up the voucher, handing it to Crowe, who gave him the required amount of cash in exchange, before bidding goodbye and putting the envelope containing the voucher into one of the bags you were carrying.

“What time is it?”

Crowe took a look at the watch on his wrist, “1 pm. The party starts at 4.30, therefore we still have some time to get everything ready.”

Your boyfriend gave your hand a small squeeze and smiled warmly at you. This was almost enough to make you forget about the crisp cold air surrounding you, emphasis on almost. You were walking at a faster pace than usually, desperate to get home as quickly as possible.

Luckily, you soon saw the row houses on your street, one of them being the one you and Crowe resided in. The two of you moved in together after a year of dating, deeming it safer for the both of you - well, mostly for you. He insisted that you move into the townhouse he rented with him, considering it a safer option than the apartment you previously called your home. Of course, he was right, this part of town was much safer and if something were to happen, he would be there to protect you.

The houses were made of brownstone and not much bigger than your old apartment, though it was still nice to have a bit more space available, not to mention the tiny garden at the back - something your previous home lacked entirely.

Speed-walking towards the dark green front door, you ushered Crowe to unlock the door, who chuckled in response to your antics. What may have been annoying to anyone else, he found endearing. To him, you could hardly do any wrong, you were perfect, perfect for him.

You were greeted by the familiar smell of your home and the comforting warmth it provided. Taking off your boots and coat you turned to face Crowe, “Ready to bake some cookies?”

The kitchen was small, but it was big enough for the two of you. The counter, made of ebony and an oak countertop, formed a U-shape, lining all walls except for the one with the door. A big window overlooking the garden was above the kitchen sink and opposite of the door. Some potted plants hung from the ceiling, giving the room a rural feeling.

You walked to the kitchen cabinet and whipped out every required ingredient and equipment.

“Did you decide on which type of cookies we are baking?” Crowe entered the kitchen, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing his toned lower arms.

“I was thinking we could bake some good old chocolate chip cookies, how does that sound?”

Crowe cracked a grin at that. Chocolate chips were his favourite and you knew that all too well.

“I’m definitely not opposed to that suggestion.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him, “Of course you are not.”

You ordered Crowe to weigh the ingredients while you took care of mixing everything, the dough soon being finished. The moment you turned your back to grab a scissor for the package of chocolate chunks, Crowe grabbed a spoon from the kitchen drawer and tried some of the cookie dough.

“No snacking on the cookie dough, Crowe.”, you turned around to find your boyfriend frowning at you, causing a little laugh of yours to break free.

“Mind you, I was taste-testing.”

You shook your head at his answer, but at the same time you were endeared. Crowe was usually this composed, mature gentleman, but around you he could unleash a more childish side of him, one he didn’t show anyone else. Coming from him, this was a huge sign of trust, a privilege he didn't grant just anyone.

Right after you mixed the chocolate chunks into the cookie dough, you took small scoops and placed them onto the tray Crowe got ready for you. Once you were finished with placing small piles of dough, your boyfriend took the tray from you and put it in the oven.

“Now that the cookies are in the oven, what should we do in the meantime? Wrap the presents?” Crowe asked while wiping the surface of the countertop with a wet cloth. You pondered for a moment, recalling the children you saw on your way to the mall and pointed towards the window overlooking the garden

“I have a better idea… See all that snow? How about we build a snowman?”

Looking at him, your eyes glistened with hope and he smiled brightly at you, an indescribable amount of love in his gaze.

You definitely were perfect for him.

“Of course we can, Love, but weren’t you the one freezing outside earlier today?”

He just couldn’t help but tease you a little every now and then.

“That was different. I can handle the coldness if it means I get to feel like a kid again.”, you argued, a lop-sided smile gracing your features.

“Touché.”

With a pep in your step you went back into the hallway to grab both of your boots and coats, along with a pair of gloves for each of you. You swiftly returned to the kitchen and walked through the doorway into the living room, straight towards the back door, handing Crowe his clothes, before putting on your own coat and boots.

No five minutes later were the two of you out in the freezing cold. You already got to work, making a little snowball and rolling it around on the ground, your gloves doing very little to keep the snow’s iciness away from your skin, though you couldn’t care less right now.

The garden was small, surrounded by high bushes, which were painted white by the snow just like the ground was. The big apple tree at the very back already lost all its leaves weeks ago and the flowers you usually kept were long gone.

Crowe joined you, rolling his own snowball on the ground and turning to you for a moment, “I take it that you want to be in charge of the big snowball at the bottom?”

Looking over at him with a smile you nod eagerly, earning you his warm signature smile in return.

The two of you kept rolling the snowballs around, which were getting bigger and bigger by the minute, until they finally had a size you were satisfied with. Crowe placed his slightly smaller snowball on your bigger one, going off to find some sticks to use as arms right after while you were busy making the head. Once you were finished and placed the third and smallest snowball on top of the other two, Crowe returned with some sticks and a couple of small rocks.

Handing you the two biggest sticks, you took them and placed one on either side of the snowmans upper body and some smaller branches on the top of his head. You took three small stones out of Crowe’s palm and placed them in a vertical row on the snowman's upper body.

“By the way, do we have a carrot laying around?”

“I think so… let me take a look.” Crowe handed you the rocks and turned around, walking back inside. In the meantime, you took two rocks and placed them where you thought the snowman's eyes might be and used the leftover stones to give the snowman a smile. Crowe eventually returned, a carrot in his hand. “There you go, finish the job.”

You side-eyed him, processing his words, “You’re saying this as if I’m assassinating this poor snowman…”

Your boyfriend chuckled in response as you added the final detail to your snowman.

Suddenly, an alarm went off.

“Ah! The cookies are ready. Just in time…” Crowe turned off the alarm on his phone and took your hand in his as the two of you made your way back inside.

Once back in the kitchen, the two of you took off your boots, coats and gloves. Crowe took out the tray with cookies while you carried the clothes back into the hallway, hanging the coats back on their hangers, placing the boots on the mat next to the front door and the gloves back into the dresser.

The smell of fresh cookies invaded your nostrils and you could feel your mouth watering, causing you to swiftly return to the kitchen.

“It smells so good in here!” You entered the kitchen, causing Crowe to turn away from you quickly, making you stop in your tracks, “Wait… are you eating one of the cookies?”

“...No…” Crowe was trying his best to not sound like he was talking with a full mouth, but failed miserably.

“You are!” You could hear Crowe swallowing before turning back to face you, trying to defend himself, “I had to do a taste test…”

You take one cookie from the tray, studying it a little. Judging by the looks of it, those cookies turned out amazing.

“Firstly, you already did one with the raw cookie dough and secondly, I highly doubt that one was necessary…Though, I might do one as well. You know, two tongues can taste more than one, or something like that.” Putting the cookie in your mouth, you can almost hear your taste buds singing Hallelujah, your eyes widening as you let the warm, sweet taste of chocolate chip melt on your tongue.

“Oh my…these cookies are perfect!”

Crowe nodded in agreement with a grin on his face as he watched your fond expression, before looking at his watch, “It’s 2.20 pm, we have about two hours until the party, any ideas what should we do until then?”

You thought for a moment before a smug smirk crawled onto your face.

“Don’t tell me-”

You cut off your boyfriend, “Let’s watch a Christmas movie!”

“We still need to wrap the presents, my Love” , Crowe pointed out, but you quickly shot down his argument.

“We can do that while watching the movie. It’s not like we have tons of presents to wrap anyways.”

Crowe sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose, though more in a playful fashion, before nodding slowly.

“Alright, let’s watch a Christmas movie then.”

You immediately made your way towards the living room, the walls were painted a light blue shade and lined with tons of shelves, the floor was birch wood, just like the hallway. Sitting down on the soft, dark blue couch and grabbing the remote, you made yourself comfortable, nuzzling against one of the couch’s cushions. While you were busy picking out a movie, Crowe grabbed some wrapping paper, as well as the presents for your friends, and carried them towards the living room, setting everything down on the oak coffee table in front of the couch.

He sat down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer as you put on your favorite christmas movie. You shuffled closer to him, basking in the warmth Crowe radiated, not just emotionally but also physically. No matter how tough times might get, next to him any problem ceased to exist, if only for the moment and you could swear your love for him was growing more and more the longer you were together.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you couldn’t help but feel giddy for tonight, looking forward to spending time with all the people who grew on you so much during your years at university.

Were you to look out the window, you’d catch the snowman smiling at you, the snow which was currently falling from the sky accumulating on his carrot nose.

Everything was perfect, you were exactly where you were always meant to be and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

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

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signedkoko · 11 months ago

Note

Hi!

Can I request a romantic oneshot for Vox with fem reader, where she helps him relax after a hard day, dealing with the other V's, or just company related stuff? This guy really needs a break 🥲

It could be just fluff or nsfw, it's up to you ;)

Also, I really love how you wrote the Valentino headcanons I requested! It seems so in character for him to feel like his masculinity is threatened by a female that's more powerful than him.

Have a nice day/night! <3

Letting Off Steam [NSFW]

In which long days call for even longer nights where he gets to indulge in the delicacy that is you. Reader is female.

Song - Lavender Kiss by The Licks

" Stupid fucking-fuck!"

Automatic doors opened so fast they screeched along the floor, calling your attention to his tense figure. Every tap of his polished shoes got louder, both from his approach and his increased stomping. It could have been a new record with how fast he was pacing.

While you wanted to give him your attention, you still had a pot on the stove. You were working on dinner, being sure to stir the noodles in the salted water so they wouldn't stick together.

" You would not believe the gall that stupid mothball has hiding that shit from me! After everything I've done for him! " From your peripherals, you saw his claws glide down his screen in desperation, his red eyes disappearing as he shut off visuals.

" Oh my, what has he done this time? " You hummed with a piqued interest, hoping it was something he could tell you about. Vox's line of work was always interesting.

Vox only let out a gargled groan, pulling his bow loose so he could take off his constricting suit jacket.

" I wouldn't want to worry you, as pissed off as I am. Just- someone I thought couldn't bother me anymore turned out to be alive and well! So alive that he's practically dancing on my enterprise as we speak. "

He had rolled up his shirt sleeves so the white wouldn't be stained, looking to help. You placed a hand on his chest, stopping him from working on anything.

" The pasta still needs to cook for a good while; be patient. " Even so, it was endearing knowing that, as worked up as he got, he would still find his way to your side to help.

" Right. Honestly, I just need to distract myself right now. " Huffing, the video star pushed you back into the island, stealing a quick kiss, which consisted of him bonking his screen against you.

You pressed a few gentle kisses along the edge of his screen; you'd gotten used to not wearing anything on your lips so you wouldn't stain him—as much as he claimed to love the kiss marks you left on his monitor.

With a few kisses and the joy of being so close, the two of you melted into one another, with the overlord giving a relaxed sigh.

" You have no idea how much I've ached for you, dolly. " As the usual nicknames loosened out of his mouth, Vox couldn't help but let this guard down in your presence, and for a reason. You were the one thing that soothed him, and he was addicted to you, like a substance he couldn't shake from his habits.

He wasn't sure if it was the frustration or just your sheer allure, but he couldn't stop himself from pressing on further.

He crouched down, much to your audible confusion, only for him to hook his hands under your ass and lift you up onto the counter, where you were now eye-to-eye with him.

The technological overlord found himself in a comfortable spot between your dangling legs, his body keeping them pushed apart.

You could hear his fans whirring in him, knowing him well enough that he wasn't up to any good. Regardless, you missed him, and you were antsy to see where he'd take you.

" I missed you. "

His voice was a mutter as he distracted himself by running his cold hands up and down your thighs in a soothing motion, albeit a little desperately. Vox was still deciding just how rough he wanted to be with you.

His signature grin snapped on when he made a decision, and before you could ask, he had one hand hooked under your knees as he pushed them up, forcing you onto your back. The cool marble of the counter made you shiver—almost cold enough to cancel out the warmth your stomach burst with.

With him pushing your knees as close to your chest as was comfortable, he had a nice view of his dessert.

" Sorry gorgeous, I just have this crazy craving right now. " Sarcasm dripped from his tone, his free hand messily pulling your pants up to your thighs so he could look at your pretty pussy, only covered by the cloth of your panties.

All you could see was the cieling and your own legs, besides the top of his antenna, which poked from beyond them. Anytime you tried to squirm to get a better view, his hand would push back further, keeping you in place.

" Don't get so nervous; I'll take good care of you, " It sounded as if he wanted to say more, but he got distracted with brushing his talons along your panties, tensing the fabric so he could see everything underneath. With every shudder you made, he'd thumb your clit in a small circle, only for the cycle to repeat.

A low hum came from him, enjoying the way you'd squirm when he kept at it for too long.

" Oh you poor thing, you deserve more, don't you? "

The sound of his buckle falling loose was followed by the sound of a zipper, the overlord almost ripping the clothes as he hurried to help his poor, helpless girl.

Your patience paid off, his warm cock coming to rest on your warmth, which he slowly thrust against your clit, rutting himself through your folds. Only then did he let go of your knees, which weakly fell to the counter, so he could get a good look at your face.

He wanted to make sure he could get a nice 'before' picture so he could compare it to your fucked-silly after image.

" Be loud for me, yeah?"

Author's Note - I have not written a oneshot in awhile, let alone NSFW, so I apologize if it's a little off! Hopefully I'll get more into the flow with time.

Word Count - 939

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #vox #vox x reader

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grapejuicestyless · 7 months ago

Text

Happier

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n is not happy, despite the smile etched into her face, and nobody can see that, nobody but Harry, who can’t seem to express his concern in a gentle way.

“You look happier.”

What am I supposed to say to that? Thank you? I don’t mean to be mean when nobody meant any harm, but it feels so casually cruel for someone to pick up on the way I’ve changed and mistake my spiraling for happiness.

I don’t know the true shape of my face. My cheeks were round most of my life, meant to be kneaded between the fingers of my working class grandmother while she baked in the kitchen, but more recently the skin has fallen from the bone and what was once rolled between wrinkled fingers is tighter to my face as it strangles me from the inside out.

I don’t recognize myself either. Maybe I never did, because even when I search for the girl I once was, I can never seem to find her. I remember running around as a child with my best friend, the grass stains on my jeans and the holes in my sweater from tug of war’s in his backyard. She was happy, even if she looked tired. She was the happiest I’d ever been, but she was so young. She hadn’t found herself yet and maybe that’s what made life so good, the ignorance of the real world and how it would shape her.

Maybe the real me is the person who reaches out to her friends when she misses them, or maybe its the girl who counted down the days to her seventeenth birthday so she could finally relate to the lyrics of Dancing Queen and mean it finally. But maybe it’s the girl who sits in bed staring at the ceiling wondering why she never made it where everyone else was going. Maybe it’s the girl who wished her mother cared just a little bit more to stop comparing her to her “smarter” friends when she was twelve.

So maybe I do look happy, maybe I am happy. Maybe I have never felt happy before and maybe that’s why I feel so conflicted about if I truly am or if I am just projecting it out to seem that way.

“Harry.”

I call into the darkness, wandering the house party in a sweaty costume sticky with splashes of beer on the fabric, only half of the costume I came with.

The hallway is long and winding, but it always feels that way when I’m not exactly sure if I’m going in the right direction.

“Harry?” I call out again, spotting the other half of my costume.

“Y/n.” He smiles with a sigh, like even though the smoke between his fingers is taking off the edge, I’ve just calmed the entire air surrounding him. For me, it’s the same feeling. When he’s near, everything seems to slow down for a moment. After about the thousandth comment on how much better I looked from some friends of friends, he disappeared, and maybe that’s why their integrating looks bother me so much, because theres no hand to hold onto to distract me from myself.

I slide against the wall to sit with him, my eyes finding purchase on the same cracks across the thin hallway as he did, and the warm blunt being lazily passed from his fingers to mine.

“I think you’re rubbing all your glitter onto my pants.” he breathes out casually into the comfortable silence. I feel the tension in my shoulders expand before fading.

“I think it’s in my eyes too.”

“Just when I thought they couldn’t shine any brighter.” Harry lifts his hand to hook his index finger around my chin, smiling like an idiot when he sees my lips curl comfortably around the joint.

“Well, maybe I feel better than usual. It’s finally reflecting back to you.”

I joke, feeling sick as I recall the conversation from before. I look happier, as if to suggest that before I was miserable, and even if they weren’t wrong about that, the fact that anyone could read that without a second glance scared me. How a stranger could read me before I could.

“Well, you look like shit if you do.”

“Ouch, that obvious?”

“If I counted each time you rolled your eyes when someone told you that whole speech about how good you look, I’d run out of fingers.”

Harry laughs as he takes back the weed to finish it off. I’ve already drank more than him, so the sway in my body becomes more noticeable as the burn sears down my throat.

“It’s just so…wrong. I mean, I guess I feel okay, but do I really look good enough for all this praise?” I ask quietly into the night, my knees pressing against my chest as I hug my calves tightly between my sweaty palms.

“I think you’re very pretty, Y/n. You are pretty. But your face is changing and no amount of glitter can cover that up.” He tells me honestly, rubbing out the dying end onto his knee and sighing at the burn.

“If you still believe that then I haven’t used enough glitter.” I try to joke, to brush away the rising bile in my throat and tension in the air.

“You can fool anyone else, but I know you. Even if you’re not who you once were, I still know you because I love you.”

“Well you shouldn’t. I’m a leech. I’ll fucking suck up all the joy from your life until you’re too exhausted to leave.” I smiled at the ground drunkenly, head hung low and my eyes heavy.

“But I do. You’re my best friend and it’s pathetic how you let yourself fall so low.” Harry flicks out the end of the blunt, watching the ashes fall the floor and stain the carpet lining the thin hallway.

“I came to you for comfort, you know. Not to get drilled in a bunny costume.” I roll my eyes, the haze clearing at his bitter remarks.

“Well tough luck, I guess. You look like shit for a girl who everyone here thinks is so happy.” Harry looks at me, his hand moving to wipe away the glitter by my eye.

“I need air.” I stand up, almost stumbling against the faint curling of the carpet at the edges. It’s new and that’s how you can tell, it hasn’t fully sunken into the floor, and it’s such a shame that it’s forever stuck with the glitter from my costume and the ashes of Harry’s joint.

“You need help.”

I stop, and there’s a beat that passes.

“You’re a real asshole when you’re high, you know. I have my own shit, I don’t need to be taking yours too.” I smile at him, but only because he was smiling at me.

“Maybe I am.” He responds plainly, and when he looks the other way, I feel heavier than before, more picked apart than before, more vulnerable than before.

Theres a thousand eyes on my back just waiting for me to crack, like the chip in my tooth from how hard I’m smiling while talking to strangers about my hopeless life. And they all say I look happier.

“But y/n,” Harry calls out for me, and for a moment I believe he might apologize.

“You look happy.”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry x reader #harrystyles #harry styles

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re4rlyr4e · 1 month ago

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‘Adore me, hold me and explore me’

Daisuke x Fem! Black! Anya’s intern! Reader

⚠️Warning!⚠️ : this has smut in it but I won’t say mdni because I am minor too

You were Anya’s intern. Helping her in every way you could! You weren’t the kind of girl to fall for people quickly so when you got on the tulpar you weren’t expecting much. It was just an internship….right? Wrong. The other intern on the ship, the mechanical intern…you knew him, but didn’t know from where. So, you were going to ask his name. There was no way he was who you thought he was. “Excuse me? Sir?” You tapped his shoulder and looked up at him playing with your braid “oh hey! Reader, long time no see, I’m kidding it’s been like 4 months, how are ya?” He asked, IT WAS HIM, your high school crush Daisuke was really on this ship with you, for the 382 days you would be in the same ship as him. That was a dream come true.you couldn’t wait to see what would happen!

It had been 3 months on the ship, everything was going great! You were talking to Swansea about Daisuke because you didn’t want to wake him up yet so you were waiting for him to wake up “sooooo Swansea, how’s I been working with Daisuke” you questioned wanting to know if he was a sweet as you remembered “good if he would shut up about you, he won’t stop taking about ‘how pretty you are’ or whatever” he replied. You would have been bright red if it were visible. You felt something you hadn’t felt since you had math right next to Daisuke, who would ‘accidentally’ grab your thigh mid class. That’s when you felt a pair of warm hands on your hips, Daisuke had come from behind you and hugged you “what are we talking about?” He asked with his usual smirk, go that smirk made you wet….Wait what? Was he making you horny on purpose?! It’s fine, but god damnit you wanted him to make you Juno, isn’t that a song? Whatever you didn’t want to think of anything other than Daisuke “nothing Daisu…” you giggled while playing with your braids. For once you wanted to get them messed up, as long it was because of him. You wanted him so bad… wait…you felt something on your back…..were you crazy? " daisu can we talk for a second.... outside?" you asked him like he was being demanded, did guys like that as much as some girls did? you didn't know but the question couldn't wait. "Daisuke do i make you hard or something?" you asked up front and strong, you knew he would probably deny it and be all rude about you even asking about tha- "yea. you kind of do..." in any other instance you would have blushed like crazy. But you were horny so you did something you would normally never do. You kissed him..hard. In the middle of the hallway and he pulled you into a nearby room. “Daisu….i need you” your reached to try and take off his shirt but he stopped you. “Wait…how long have you been waiting to do this?” he giggled with that stupid smirk, you loved it but it was still stupid . “a while now fuck me or I’ll do something stupid” you kissed him again you could feel how hard he was through his stupid pants, you just wanted them gone at this point. He started kissing down your body, he was trying to make sure that this was perfect for you, even if you were in a closet. He was playing with your ass as he kissed you, he wanted you badly “take your pants off” you demanded him. You wanted him to be rough but you wanted a little control “what?” “Take them off” “that’s so hot” that’s the last thing you heard before you felt him…he wasn’t being gentle at all ”fuck baby! Right there! YES! FUCK YEA!” you were already on the edge and you both knew it….thats when he pulled out, flipped you over and made you look at his cock, what you did to him. You were so excited you grabbed it and….licked it…was this reality? Were you dreaming? Or were you really giving your crush of 4 years head in a closet…? Yea, and you’d do it again “I want you to knock me up…I like myself and all but two would be better right?” You bent over and let him go at it. As he did so his hands were roaming you, exploring every inch of you. “Fuck I’m so close baby!~ “ at that moment, you both came. Panting and sweating, you were shaking and he was just chuckling and grabbing his pants “come to my room after dinner, we can cuddle and talk about what we are from now on” that was a offer you couldn’t resist, “okay see ya?” You said unsure “yea, I love you” he had said it. He said the L word. “I love you too, Daisuke “

#Spotify #mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke x reader #smut #mouthwashing smut #daisuke smut #don’t like it #give feedback

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aliceintheworld · 4 months ago

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PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn't be watching a man undressing, especially not from the house next door."

Warning: more religion 😬 depression, Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi appear. Jungkook in a towel 💦👅 finally a kiss (things from here happen quickly.) ATTENTION, THIS STORY IS NOT SLOWBURN.

A/N: Guys, I took a while this time for reasons of: laziness and discouragement. I wanted more people to read what I write, but I'm introverted even on the Internet, which leaves me with few alternatives to show my writing to the world. Thinking about it, I'm in trouble. Other than that, only a few days have passed, so everything is fine. Back to the story, everything starts to pick up pace. Just to repeat, the fanfic is not slowburn, so there will be smut in the next chapter. Stay tuned.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 3

I spend the whole week riding an emotional rollercoaster. I find myself visiting my neighbor, Mrs. Jeon, more frequently than usual, and with each visit, our friendship blossoms deeper. She shares stories of her youth, of wild adventures and carefree days when she was my age. Her openness encourages me to share my own experiences–or rather, my lack of them. I recount my first disastrous kiss, confess that I've never been in love, and reveal how my once unshakeable faith in the church has wavered since my father's passing. I feel a weight lift off my shoulders; here, I am free to be imperfect, to be vulnerable, without fear of judgment.

Yet, there's one thing I keep to myself: the incident with her son, Jungkook, and the profound effect he has on me. Throughout all my visits, I never see him again. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I casually ask Mrs. Jeon where he is. She tells me that he moved and rented an apartment to avoid being a burden. He only spent the first night at home after his trip, and I remember that night well–from my window, of course–but I don't mention it. Disappointment settles in me like a stone; I long to see him again, but I focus on his mother instead. Having her to confide in is a relief, a breath of fresh air in my otherwise stifling life.

I patiently wait for her to open up about her own struggles, her depression, but she never does. I worry that I might know something I shouldn't, that perhaps she's not comfortable sharing with me. But I promise myself I'll keep her secret safe, no matter what. Today is Sunday, and I won't visit Mrs. Jeon since I'll see her at church. I'm excited–despite my mother making unnecessary comments and disturbing my peace of mind, I'll have someone to rely on.

I smooth down my dark brown dress, fixing my messy hair. I dab a bit of lipstick on my fingertips and press it onto my lips, careful not to overdo it. The truth is, I enjoy makeup, but I've never learned how to apply it properly. I feel embarrassed drawing attention to myself with bolder colors; after all, people are used to my lack of vanity. I sigh, steeling myself as I head downstairs to meet my mother.

She hasn't stopped talking about Jungkook. Unlike me, who had a good first impression, she despises him. She criticizes everything: his eyebrow piercing, his bold style, his tattoos, even the way he carries himself. I can't help but wonder if she accepted the dinner invitation just to analyze him, searching for flaws that exist only in her mind. She's been friends with Misuk since moving to town, and I want to believe–perhaps naively–that my mother doesn't have ulterior motives.

We arrive at church early, the space quiet with only a few members milling about. My mother drifts away to chat with the older congregation, and I find a seat, taking a deep breath. I scan the room for Mrs. Jeon but I don't see her. Since it's still early, I'm not too worried. I take a moment to read the Bible, reflecting on positive thoughts when I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder. I turn, and there he is–Jungkook, smiling brightly. I frown, almost convinced he's a mirage. Am I daydreaming?

"Hi Y/N, are you okay?" he asks softly, his lips brushing almost against my ear. His intense gaze locks with mine, and I'm relieved to be sitting down; my legs feel weak in his presence.

"Everything's fine," I reply, my eyes dropping to my fingers. I want to engage him, ask about his week, inquire how he's been, but the words stick in my throat. It's as though I can't act normally around him. I take a deep breath, mustering the courage to comment, "I didn't know you attended church."

"I don't," he laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes. And rightly so; considering his clothes–a heavy leather jacket, shaved sides, and a wavy fringe–it's sexy but definitely not what you'd expect at church. "I haven't been since I was a kid."

"Really? Why?" I ask, genuinely curious, my gaze drawn to his eyebrow piercing, oddly captivating.

"I didn't feel welcome," he replies simply. There's no bitterness in his voice, and I understand all too well what he means. My mother, for example, was the first to judge him based on his appearance, and I can only imagine how difficult it is to feel at home in a place where you're not embraced.

"I understand," I say, unsure of what else to add. "So, you came here to give it another shot?"

"No way," he chuckles. "Actually, my mom mentioned you two planned to meet at church today."

"That's true," I confirm.

"Unfortunately, she can't make it today. She's not feeling well."

"Is she okay?" My concern surfaces immediately.

"She's fine, don't worry. Just a headache, and she took some medicine. She'll be better soon," he assures me, his hand lightly touching my shoulder. I can't help but notice how warm and gentle his touch is. I shake my head, trying to divert my thoughts from Jungkook's hands to anything else.

"I'm relieved to hear that," I smile, noticing the church is starting to fill up.

"I'm actually inviting some friends over to my apartment, and I wanted to know if you'd like to join us," he says, brushing his fingertips against his ear, a bit shy. I'm taken aback; I didn't expect this invitation. He wants me to come over with his friends?

"And why?" I ask, surprised. It's been a while since we last saw each other, and we haven't talked much even then.

"I like you. I want you to come so we can have fun."

"If this is some kind of payment, or something like that... you really don't need to." I reply, not believing it. I don't have friends, and the thought that he wants to be with me and the people he likes seems absurd to me.

"It's not that. I'm even a bit offended." He jokes, smiling. "I really want you to come, please."

"Jungkook... I don't know."

"I swear they're nice. Every time I'm in Busan, we hang out. They're trustworthy, I promise."

"I can imagine," I reply, still hesitant. I'd have to leave church, skip the service, and ask my mother for permission to go out with him, and of course, she wouldn't allow it. No way. It's not that I don't want to; I desperately want to spend time with him. That's been on my mind all week. "I don't think it's possible; my mom..."

"I know," he interjects, as if he anticipated my response. "But what if, just this once, you say you are going to my mom's? We could say I'm taking you there when in fact, you're coming to my apartment."

"Are you asking me to lie to my mother in a church?" I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. He shrugs, grinning.

"God knows it's just once," he replies confidently, pouting slightly. "What do you say? Later, I can take you to my mom's whenever you want, or you can stay at my apartment since I have more than one room. You set the time and conditions."

"Jungkook..." I groan, covering my face with my hands. The thought of lying to my mother, especially to go to a guy's house, sends a wave of anxiety through me. If she finds out, I'll be in big trouble.

"Come on! It'll be fun. I promise," he pleads softly. I can't say no to him, at least not now. I nod, agreeing to the madness.

"Okay, but you're the one who's going to talk to my mom. And if I say I want to leave, you agree. No alcohol because I know you drive. Those are my conditions," I assert, trying to sound firm. He smiles and salutes me, like a soldier receiving orders, and I slowly get up, taking small steps toward my mother. I let Jungkook lead the way, my nerves creeping back as I prepare to tell a lie in this sacred place.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Eunji. Good afternoon, everyone," he greets my mom and the other church members. My mother looks utterly shocked, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she takes in his appearance.

"Good afternoon, Jungkook," she replies, lacking enthusiasm, her gaze scanning him from head to toe. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to do a favor for my mom," he clarifies, and if I didn't know better, I'd almost believe him. "My mom asked Y/N to keep her company since my dad will be out of town for a few days. I came to pick her up."

"Really?" my mom looks at me, and I don't say anything, just nodding.

"It's true. My dad went to Daegu this weekend, and since my mom hasn't been feeling well, she asked Y/N to spend time with her. If you allow it, of course," he smiles calmly, and I brace myself waiting for my mother's response. I watch her weigh her options, glancing between Jungkook and me for what feels like an eternity before she sighs and nods.

"Alright, that's fine. Is your mom feeling okay?"

"Yes, she's getting better. Can we go now?" he asks, a hint of urgency in his voice.

"Yes, you may go," my mom sighs, placing a hand on her forehead. "It's a shame you're missing the service today, Y/N. Next week, you'll definitely come, okay?"

"Yes, mom, for sure," I agree weakly, clearing my throat and avoiding her gaze, still stunned that she let me go to Jungkook's house. Well, not his house, but is practically the same thing.

"Shall we go, Y/N? My mom is waiting," Jungkook says, raising an eyebrow. I nod, still silent, as we make our way toward the exit.

Some people stare, especially the older members, who seem shocked by Jungkook's appearance–too conservative, in my opinion. Somehow, the situation feels even funnier. Once we're sure no one can see us anymore, I burst into laughter, clutching my stomach. Jungkook chuckles too, exhaling as if he's just finished a tough exam and is finally free.

"Your mom is tough, huh?" he laughs. "I thought she was going to kill me with her eyes."

"Sorry," I say, still giggling a little. "She's like that with everyone."

"Even with you?"

"Even with me," I nod. "What do we do now?"

"Now, we go to my apartment. My friends have the key, so they're probably already there."

"Don't tell me they're all guys," I groan, suddenly anxious. I hadn't considered that he might not have any female friends, and I'd be the only girl at the apartment if that were the case.

"No, relax! I have female friends too. You'll like them," he assures me, walking toward a sleek black car parked across the street. I know nothing about cars, but I can tell this one is expensive. I feel out of place, acutely aware that Jungkook lives in a different world, one that's far removed from my own.

The tension in the car is palpable as we drive. The ride feels like it takes forever, the windows closed, and I'm intoxicated by his scent. I discreetly watch his large hands on the wheel, the way his long fingers tap rhythmically against the leather seat. I have to swallow hard to keep from drooling over him. I'm starving–not for food, but for him. All week, I've yearned to be near him, to touch him. I think I'm suffering from a Jungkook overdose, craving something I haven't even tasted yet.

I ponder whether he's aware of the effect he has on me, but I like to believe he hasn't noticed. It's easier that way. I breathe slowly, attempting to relax in my seat. It takes another ten minutes before Jungkook opens the gate to a condo with a small remote and drives in slowly. His car fits the place perfectly. Everything is stunning and upscale. I glance at my clothes and regret agreeing to come. Why did I say yes? I don't know his friends, and I don't know Jungkook that well, aside from the overwhelming attraction I feel toward him. What do I actually know about him? That he's a tattoo artist from Seoul? That he's rich and hasn't set foot in a church since childhood? I feel like I've walked into a situation that's spiraling out of control.

"Hey, Y/N, are you okay? You went quiet all of a sudden," he asks, concern etched on his face.

"I'm fine. Just feeling a bit strange," I admit.

"Why?"

"I don't know," I confess, omitting my paranoid thoughts. "I always feel like this in new places."

"I get that. I feel that way too," he tells me as we step into the parking elevator. I follow him, digesting this new revelation.

"You seem so confident and social," I comment, genuinely amazed. His big eyes meet mine as the elevator rises, floors passing by in a blur.

"I know, it seems that way. But in reality, I'm quite introverted. I have a small circle of friends and prefer it that way. I just fake it really well," he shares, and I find myself wanting to know more about the person behind the confident exterior.

"Really?" I ask, intrigued.

"Yeah," he nods, his expression earnest.

I try to respond, but the elevator stops on a floor, and Jungkook smiles at me, indicating that this is the right place. I feel one of his hands gently touch my waist, guiding me to a white door. I have to take a deep breath to keep from freaking out, my sweaty, trembling hands hidden in my pocket. I hear different music from the other side of the door before the place fully opens up to us.

"Hey, he's here! Finally, Jungkook!" I hear a male voice. It's a guy around Jungkook's age, I realize as soon as we walk in. His hair is a dark red, and his skin is pale and smooth. It's no surprise that his arms are covered in tattoos, drawings and phrases I can't read so far away. He also watches me closely, smiling warmly.

"Guys, this is YN, the one I told you about," Jungkook introduces me with a smile.

I turn red because there are at least seven people staring at me from head to toe. The apartment is well-kept, with dark wooden furniture. The living room is immaculate, with abstract paintings and photos of Jungkook and his family on the walls. I don't have much time to take everything in as my eyes focus on Jungkook's friends, who are strangers to me so far. Saying they're different from me would be an understatement.

They all have many tattoos and wear dark clothing. I sense an aura of confidence from all of them, but never hostility. It's as if they're very similar to Jungkook, with a completely different exterior from their inner selves. I relax a bit, smiling warmly and putting on my best expression.

"Nice to meet you all," I say, feeling a bit shy. They stand up and smile at me.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Yoongi. That's my girlfriend, Minji," says the red-haired guy, pointing to the woman who just smiles. I offer my hand, feeling his cold skin from the beer bottle he was holding earlier.

"I'm Bora, and this is my boyfriend, Jimin," one of the dark-haired women greets me next, pointing to her boyfriend. They're a good-looking couple, the kind you see in magazines. Jimin has the brightest and most open smile.

"Nice to meet you," I nod.

"I'm Taehyung, but you can call me Tae," one of the guys says, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm Yoori, Tae's girlfriend. Nice to meet you," she winks, making me laugh.

"And I'm Hayun, the only single one in the group," one of the girls shakes my hand, pulling me into a hug. She kisses my cheek, making her presence increasingly noticeable.

"Hayun, you're only single because you want to be, come on," Bora rolls her eyes. Hayun laughs, grabbing a snack from the coffee table.

"I like being single, except when I'm surrounded by couples. Especially couples like you guys."

"Do you have a boyfriend, Y/N?" Jimin asks. Embarrassed, I shake my head.

"No," I reply. They seem surprised, making noises with their mouths.

"But Jungkook is single too, right?" The guy with dark hair says, drinking his beverage. I thinks his name is Tae, if I remember right.

"And I want to keep that way." Jungkook replys.

"Of course you do." Yoongi laughs along with his friends, rolling his eyes. I remain silent, not understanding the joke. Then Yoongi looks at me and seems to notice my confusion. "Y/N, Jungkook never dates. The only time he tried, it went so wrong that now he doesn’t want to do it again."

"It was a disaster." Yoori adds, as if telling a fictional story. Jungkook rolls his eyes, sighing, but his friend continues: "he’s been avoiding relationships like the devil avoids the cross since then."

"Really?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"It’s not true, Y/N." Jungkook smiles at me. "They’re idiots."

"That’s not a lie." Minji, who had been silent until then, clarifies. "He’s been asked out several times, and he always declines. Women go crazy for him, for some reason."

"I know what the reason is." Jimin laughs mischievously, suggesting something while raising an eyebrow. I turn red when they laugh at the joke. Jungkook doesn’t contest it, too busy eating one of the snacks on the table. "But what about you, Y/N? Have you ever dated before?"

"Never." I reply. They don't look surprised this time.

"So you're like Jungkook, who avoids relationships?" Bora asks with a laugh. I feel Jungkook's eyes on me, watching attentively for my response. I shake my head, feeling awkward.

"No, actually, it's just a lack of options," I clarify, deciding to be honest. I hold my hands together nervously.

"Now you have two options," Yoongi suggests with a chuckle. Minji hits his arm trying to stop him, but he continues: "There's Hayun, since she likes to try out a little bit of everything, like some pussy and shit."

"Oh!" I widen my eyes, shocked, as they laugh even more. It's the first time I've seen someone speak so openly like this. Embarrassed, I look at Hayun, but she doesn't seem to mind the comment, laughing with the others.

"Who would be the other option?" Taehyung asks his friend with his trademark grin.

"Our friend Jungkook, obviously," Yoongi clarifies, and I choke on the answer, coughing uncontrollably.

They laugh even more, watching me nearly suffocate from the joke. Jungkook pats my back, smiling widely. His thumb caresses the skin of my arm, waiting for me to calm down. We're so close that he inadvertently wraps one of his arms around my shoulder. I'm shocked and even more unsettled. For me, physical contact beyond my mom is rare. Hugs, affection... I'm just not used to it.

"Are you okay?" he asks amidst his friends' chatter. I nod, staring at my hands. "Sorry about Yoongi; he always makes these kinds of jokes. He doesn't mean any harm."

"It's fine," I assure him, feeling awkward, unable to look into his eyes. "I actually liked everyone."

"Really?" he asks, bringing his nose close to my hair. My whole body shivers as I realize he's smelling my perfume, giving a satisfied smile when he pulls away. "Good to know."

I stay silent, feeling his warm breath near me. Jungkook removes his arm from my shoulder, but his skin still brushes against mine when he takes off his heavy jacket, leaving him in just a T-shirt. His friends are fun and involve me in the conversation, making me feel comfortable, but the truth is that having Jungkook so close drives me crazy and I can't pay much attention. I wonder how long I'll feel this way about him. Will this strong effect never go away? This is the third time we've met, but something tells me that no matter how many times I see him-be it two times or a thousand-my heart will always race whenever he gets close and smiles at me.

I don't even notice the time passing and only realize it's late when Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung offer to take their girlfriends home, along with Hayun, who complains about not having anyone waiting for her at her apartment. Everyone leaves until only Jungkook and I remain. He promised to take me to his mother's house if I wanted, but I'm hesitant to ask as it's quite likely Mrs. Jeon is already asleep by now.

"Y/N, do you want me to get a towel for you?" Jungkook asks, tidying up the living room. I'm confused, picking up some empty soju bottles his friends drank to throw away.

"What do you mean?"

"You're not going to stay here?" he asks, furrowing his brow.

"Not really?" I laugh, then realize I might have been a bit rude, so I rephrase my response. "I mean, I don't think so. I don't want to be a bother."

"It's no bother. If you want, you can take a shower in my bathroom and sleep in the guest room." He offers with a smile. I bite my lower lip, unsure what to decide. I want to stay here, but it's just him and me now; is it really the right thing to do? It doesn't matter, Y/N. Just for one night.

"Okay then. Do you have a toothbrush, please?"

"Of course I do. Come with me, I'll get the stuff for you to use the bathroom." He calls me with a smile and walks down the long hallway. We pass by a few doors until we reach his room. My throat goes dry as my eyes scan the new space. His bed is large and covered with a dark gray blanket. The walls are white and everything is very organized, with a laptop next to the wardrobe and a fluffy black rug on the floor. His scent is everywhere, almost as if I'm breathing him. I clutch my hands together nervously about being alone with Jungkook in such an intimate space. He reappears after going to the closet, holding a white towel and some cotton clothes.

"You can take a shower in my bathroom while I use the guest one," he says, placing the items in my hands.

"Jungkook, that's not necessary..."

"Don't worry. I want you to be comfortable." He says before I can argue. His satisfied smile makes me not deny it again, happy to receive so much care from him. I just nod, agreeing. "The toothbrush is in the cabinet by the sink, in the package. You can open it, okay?"

"Okay, thank you very much." I smile before he walks down the hallway. I head to the door leading to the bathroom and sneak into the new space. I start thinking Jungkook has no flaws.

The place is as clean as the rest of the apartment, which makes me curious; does he clean everything himself, or does he hire someone to keep it tidy? I slowly take off my dress, grabbing my phone to text my mom and let her know I'm okay. I feel bad for lying, but the night was so good that I can't truly regret it. If I had to lie, to meet these same people, I would do it again. Thinking this surprises me, because just a few hours ago, I didn't think this way. The shower has a strong hot jet of water that massages my whole body, and it's so good that I have to convince myself to finish the shower and put on the clothes, trying to be done before Jungkook.

I brush my teeth quickly, smelling my skin that's still male fragrant with the liquid soap. I smile at myself in the mirror, brushing my hair with my fingers, trying to manage the unwashed strands. I open the bathroom door carefully, trying not to make too much noise and disturb the neighbors at this hour, when I see Jungkook again, this time only in a towel. I hold onto the doorframe, barely able to stand. A voice in my head tells me I shouldn't be watching him naked again and that I should turn around, go back into the bathroom, and pretend nothing happened, but I can't. I simply can't anymore. His muscular, wet back is in my field of vision as he searches for clothes. At that moment, my brain turns to mush and I decide to say what's been stuck in my throat.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" I muster the courage to ask him but I regret it immediately. What the hell am I doing? Jungkook turns slowly and the view from the front is a thousand times better than from the back. His whole body glistens in the light of the room, and his tattoos have never been so vivid. His body is muscular, virile and strong. I gonna lose my mind! Feeling new sensations I've never experienced for anyone before.

"Y/N?" He whispers my name with that soft voice he used when we first met. He doesn't seem surprised or embarrassed, which makes me even more unsettled.

"You're doing this on purpose, Jungkook?" I ask again. I have no idea where I got such courage and I don't know how long it will last. My heart feels like it's going to leap out of my chest. My whole body is on edge and sweating. I feel my hands trembling as I swallow hard. "You're trying something? I mean... you're not wearing clothes again and..."

"What do you think, Y/N?" he retorts suddenly, with a hoarse, deep voice. His eyes wander from my head to toes, as he raises an eyebrow along with his piercing, with a smirk at the corner of his mouth. My legs turn to weak twigs immediately, ready to collapse.

"I-I don't know." I stammer as he takes one step, then two and three, getting closer and closer to me.

"When I arrived from my trip to Busan, on the first day, I was tired and exhausted," he tells me, taking another step. I start to run out of breath, anxious and aroused. My cheeks flush as he speaks more slowly. "All I wanted was to rest and sleep the whole night, but that night I couldn't, not for an hour. Do you know why?"

"N-no..." I moan softly as his chest presses against mine. His warm, wet skin makes contact with mine, and I no longer know where I begin or end, pressed against his body. His pink lips curl into a wicked smile, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to me and it's all intentional. I shiver as his free hand moves up my wrist and grips the back of my neck firmly, making my eyes focus on his mouth and then his dark, deep eyes.

"A woman, next window, taking off all her damn clothes, completely shameless," he growls, pulling my neck closer to his face and pressing his lips to my ear. My spine tingles as I feel his teeth on my earlobe, in a bite that doesn't hurt but damn, it makes me shiver. My body contracts once and twice, and I know exactly what I'm feeling now: desire. The kind I feel occasionally when I try to touch myself alone and can't reach climax. The feeling I only have when I'm alone and confortable in my bed, trying to use my imagination even with the lack of real experience, but this is real, and it is infinitely better than what my mind could create.

"It was an accident, Jung..." I try to say, but my voice doesn't come out. The tip of his nose travels along a sensitive spot behind my ear, one I didn't even know existed, slowly moving down my jawline, discovering new paths. His hand tightens around my waist, keeping me in place, immobile.

"It may be that you didn't notice, Y/N, but I know you were watching me, even while I was undressing, even when you had every opportunity to stop." He argues with a smile, as someone who knows what they're doing and enjoys seeing the result. "And you know what's worse...? The worst thing is knowing the effect you have on me. From the first time I saw you in my house, with your innocent and curious eyes. I can't get you out of my damn head. Your mouth, your scent..."

"J-Jungkook... please." I beg, closing my eyes tightly. And I know what I want. I want him, since the first time I saw him. Since my eyes met his, I desired him so strongly that I couldn't think straight. He pulls away just a little, and I almost moan in a plea for him not to go. He sighs, pressing his forehead to mine.

"Can I kiss you, Y/N?" he asks in a very soft voice, and I nod because, despite all the things I believe in–God, hell, heaven and even my mother–nothing has ever been as adored as Jungkook. Since I met him, inexplicably, I only think about him, like a spell unable to contemplate of any other answer besides yes. I look at his eyes as they travel to my mouth, and I lower mine to his, exhilarated by that pink that only exists in him.

I move closer, my lips almost touching his, feeling the warmth of his breath. "Just kiss me, please." I murmur scared of what I'm doing; temptation clear in every word. And then he does.

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@ane102 @ttipa @joonwater

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softguarnere · 1 year ago

Text

Something He Can't Have

Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader

A/N: Not me falling back into one of my oldest hyperfixations after watching the movies this past week for Christmas 🥴 I honestly don't know what to say for myself, other than that I had fun writing this and it may have single-handedly saved me from my recent writing slump. Anyway, hope y'all like this, byeeee ✨💕 Warnings: none

Lucy lets out a groan that sounds so annoyed that it instantly draws Edmund back into the present moment. “Can I ple-ease say something now?” She asks Susan, who sits to her left at the banquet table.

Susan shushes her, but there’s no malice behind it. In fact, when she does allow a disheartened look to grace her face, she directs it toward Edmund. “No. I suppose we shouldn’t meddle.”

They’ve captured his interest. Which is something that seems nearly impossible, considering that he’s spent so much of this banquet staring at Peter and (Y/N) on the dance floor, watching his older brother enjoy dance after dance with her. And trying hard not to take it too personally when (Y/N) throws back her head to laugh every now and then at something that Peter has said. Usually, she only laughs like that at his jokes, and usually only when they’re alone together.

If Peter is making her come undone, allowing her to feel comfortable outside of the carefully crafted polite and diplomatic persona that (Y/N) has created for herself to use in Cair Paravel’s court, then she’s become relaxed with him. And who knows where that will lead?

“What are you talking about?” For good measure, Edmund tosses one last glance at the dance floor before turning his attention to his sisters.

“That!” Lucy exclaims, gesturing between Edmund and the crowd that swirl on the floor before them. “This!”

Edmund raises an eyebrow. “The ball?”

His younger sister groans, burying her head in her hands. “Oh, I give up!”

“Edmund,” Susan says sternly. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t get involved, but this has gone on long enough.” For a split second, the gentle queen loses her composure, though only ever so slightly. “I mean, for God’s sake! It’s downright painful to watch!”

Still confused, Edmund isn’t sure what to say that will clarify whatever his sisters are talking about without further upsetting them. Instead, he settles for biting his lip, glancing between his sisters and the dancing, trying to work out their meaning himself.

Susan sighs, turning to Lucy. “He’s either a better actor than we give him credit for, or he’s downright daft.”

“Help me out here,” Edmund says.

“(Y/N)!” Lucy hisses, leaning across Susan so that she can scold her brother without causing too much unwanted attention. “You’ve been following her around all lovesick for ages now, but you haven’t done anything. And now you’re all jealous watching her dance with Peter.”

“Am not!”

Lucy swats his arm. “You’ve been staring at them all night. If you like her so much, then you better do something before you lose her forever!”

In other situations, Susan might chide the youngest Pevensie sibling, telling her that she’s being a bit overdramatic before offering Edmund some sort of good-natured advice. Edmund looks to her expectantly, only to find her brown eyes full of disappointment; she agrees with Lucy.

“We can all agree that you wear green better than any other, Ed,” she says. “But jealousy is not a shade that suits you.”

“Me? Jealous?! Of who?”

But his sisters only fix him with knowing looks. It makes Edmund want to wither away from existence on the spot. He spent most of their lives before Narnia being jealous of Peter. It’s been hard, but it’s something that he’s worked on since they were crowned. He really thought that he had overcome it. Now, though, his sisters’ words, coupled with the funny feeling in his stomach . . . He feels like a man, trapped, full of guilt, and caught in the middle of something very private. Which innocent people with nothing to hide do not feel in situations like these.

I fancy (Y/N), he realizes, admitting it to himself for the first time. It feels demeaning, somehow, to put a label on the feelings that he’s been harboring in secret for so long. And I’m jealous because she likes Peter more than me, says the next one, which makes him feel even worse.

A warm hand takes hold of his and squeezes. For all the annoyance that Lucy has felt toward him in these past few minutes, she offers him nothing but a kind look and encouraging smile. “You have to do something, Ed.”

“I – “ The words clog in his throat, causing him to swallow thickly, trying to find some of the air which has suddenly become very scarce. As you spin by on the dance floor, Edmund can see how you’re smiling at Peter like he hung the moon, and how his older brother beams at you like you created all the stars. Who wouldn’t want to bask in the sun’s warmth like that? And what sort of evil would dare separate two people who appear to be so . . . so in love. “I can’t.”

“You can,” Susan reassures him. “Trust me, Ed.”

Edmund, however, can’t take his eyes off of you. “I can’t ruin that.”

“You won’t,” Susan says. And if Edmund had his wits about him, he would recognize that she says it with the tone of someone who is very sure of herself because she has access to information that no one else has. (She, after all, is your best friend. But facts like that tend to fall by the wayside in moments of intense anxiety such as this.) “Ed, it’ll be fine. Trust me.”

To unstick the words in his throat, Edmund reaches for his goblet and takes a swig of the drink from inside. If he’s really going to do this, he’ll need all the courage he can get, no matter where it comes from.

As the song ends, he pushes back his chair and begins to make his way around the table. Lucy squeals with delight from behind him, and both his sisters offer nods of encouragement and thumbs up when he turns back to them, unsure.

The next thing that he knows, he’s on the dance floor, maneuvering his way through the crowd to reach you –

He catches sight of you just as you excuse yourself from the dance floor. You disappear into the crowd before he can call out to you, though he reaches out a hand, like he might be able to catch you from afar.

“Edmund!” A well-meaning slap on the back announces Peter’s presence. His older brother throws an arm around his shoulders. He radiates heat after all that dancing. “I wondered when you might join us on the dance floor.”

“I’m not. I’m just looking for (Y/N).”

Peter’s smile doesn’t falter, despite the fact that the next words out of his mouth are devastating news. “I believe that she’s retiring for the night.”

“Oh?”

“She said that she needed some air, that she might go to bed.”

As one of Narnia’s kings, Edmund is inclined to stay present for the majority of this banquet. You, being a courtier, are free to go as you please, seeing as there are no diplomatic negotiations, no fates of any nations, resting on your shoulders. If things were different, he would find a way to go after you.

And he’s actually looking for an excuse to do so when Peter says something that makes him stop.

“I wish she would have stayed,” the High King sighs. “We were having such a good time.”

Edmund nods, hands involuntarily clenching into fists at his sides. His voice feels hollow when he replies, “It looked like you were having a good time.”

“I was thinking – “ A laugh cuts Peter off as he shakes his head, looking half embarrassed, half giddy. “I was actually just about to ask her to be my – my girlfriend.” On the last word, something most unusual happens – the High King blushes. Actually blushes! Who would have known that such a thing was possible?

To say that it catches Edmund off guard would be an understatement. He’s never seen Peter so vulnerable . . . so happy. It makes Edmund’s mouth go dry. He and Peter have had their differences throughout their lives, but he can’t just ruin his older brother’s chance at happiness.

“Oh.” Is all that Edmund can think to say. He hesitates for a moment before asking, “What do you think she’ll say?”

Peter laughs, breathlessly, happily. “Well, I’m hoping that she’ll say yes, of course. In fact – “ He glances in the direction that you disappeared in. “ – I would go talk to her now, if not for my responsibilities.”

“Go,” Edmund finds himself saying. He can feel Peter’s look of surprise mirrored on his own face. But if Peter is going to do this, if this is all really happening, he’d honestly rather get it over with. “I’ll cover for you here.”

Now it’s Peter who hesitates. After a moment, his face breaks into a wide smile. He claps Edmund on the shoulder. “You’re a good man, Ed.”

I wish I were better, the Just King thinks as he watches his older brother chase after the girl that they both love.

From the banquet table, Lucy and Susan are giving him confused looks. Edmund only shrugs, then quietly rejoins them. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t want to explain what’s just happened. He recedes into himself, letting the party whirl by without him.

If only he were paying attention – then he would see the knowing look on Susan’s face.

. . .

It’s late when the banquet ends, and later still when Edmund slips into the library. He’s exhausted, but his mind is racing and won’t let him sleep. You and Peter had disappeared from the banquet hours ago. That’s plenty of time for his brother to have confessed to you and for you to have accepted. Dread fills him at the thought of the two of you happily announcing your new relationship the next morning at breakfast. He’ll have to face the two of you sometime, to muscle through his own pain and begin navigating a world where he has to accept that you’re in love with his older brother. But tonight, he can be amongst his books, which are a comfort.

He's so distracted that he doesn’t immediately notice you sitting by the fireplace, an open book on your lap, but a distracted look on your face as you watch the flames dance before you.

“Oh,” you both exclaim at the same time when you notice each other. The synchronicity makes you both laugh.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he apologizes.

“I didn’t mean to take your hiding spot,” you say in turn. You shut your book, but Edmund holds out a hand to stop you.

“You don’t have to leave on my account.”

You squint, studying him for a second, before nodding and settling back into the cushions behind you. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Carefully, Edmund takes a seat opposite you, gazing into the fire to gather his nerve. He didn’t expect to find you here. Didn’t expect to find you looking so . . . distracted and lonely as you stare into the fire, your book forgotten. He really shouldn’t pry. But you’re his friend, first and foremost, and he doesn’t want that to change. “Is everything alright?”

Delicate fingers pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh, collecting yourself before looking up at him through the firelight.

“Peter asked me to be his girlfriend,” you confess. Though the library is quiet, your voice is dull, hard to hear. You do not look as joyful as he imagined you would when delivering this news.

“Oh,” Edmund offers. He fumbles for words. You look upset, so he can’t congratulate you. But then again, he’s not sure if he should console you.

You stare at him for a moment, studying him just as intently as he’s studying you. “I said no,” you finally explain.

“Oh,” Edmund says again, for lack of anything better to say. “I’m . . . sorry?” Except that he’s really not. He feels quite relieved, if he’s being honest with himself.

Your brows furrow. He’s said the wrong thing, but he’s not sure where he went wrong.

“I said no,” you repeat. “Because I have feelings for someone else.”

Edmund’s heart, only on the mend for a split second, plummets. “Oh. I see.”

“No you don’t,” you scoff. “Edmund, you’re the one I have feelings for! Have you really not noticed by now?”

The words echo through the still library. They hang between you for a moment. A glorious, albeit confusing, moment where Edmund can do nothing but stare at you, unsure if he’s heard you correctly. Narnia is a magical place, but there’s no way that you could have said the very thing that he would do anything to hear.

“You do?” His voice comes so quietly that when you don’t immediately reply, he worries that maybe he hasn’t spoken at all.

“Yes. And for quite some time, I might add.”

“But – “ Images of the night swirl in his mind. You had danced with Peter for ages, looking so happy. Everyone likes Peter. They always have. And much, much more than they like Edmund. To say that you have feelings for him . . . “Why?”

You blink, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I mean . . . Everyone likes Peter. He always gets what he wants.”

Even in the dim glow of the firelight, he can see your gaze soften.

“Oh, Edmund.” You leave your seat, coming closer to him. He rises, meeting you halfway, so that the two of you are standing together in front of the fire. Gently, you take his hand, intwining your fingers. Your hand is warm in his. You squeeze, and on instinct, he squeezes back. “That’s not true.”

“What’s not?”

“People like you, too. I like you.” Your grip tightens on his hand. “And Peter doesn’t always get what he wants. I know something he can’t have.”

“What’s that?”

A smile tugs at your lips when you gaze up at him and say, “He can’t have this.”

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #the chronicles of narnia #narnia fanfiction #my writing #narnia imagine #narnia x reader

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