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#songs i wish i could experience for the first time again
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I’m never again going to experience that intensity of serotonin surge I got from tinngun’s duet cover of kang gun (city) by three man down
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eightshotamericano · 1 year
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rain to be by onewe is that MV you see on MTV once as a child and it completely alters your brain chemistry forever
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scrambledslut · 9 months
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me listening to tlou pt 2 soundtrack
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twistedappletree · 9 months
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and i need you to recover
because i can’t make it on my own.
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peachputang · 9 months
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fuck
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twizzie-lairs · 3 months
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 2)
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Part 1 | Part 2
Quick Notes:
This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)
Reader is an artist/painter.
Part 2:
Every day and night you had to stay trapped at home, it felt like nails on a chalkboard after that one fateful meeting that night.
The only thing that made the time bearable was the radio. Alastor told you he hosted a radio show. As so, you soon became one of his most loyal listeners. Anything to relive the moment when you felt like a person again.
So when the night finally came, that you could escape to Mimzy's establishment the next town over, you were over the moon at the chance to see Alastor again.
Luckily for you, your husband was going to be away for a week this time.
That night, you made it to the bar a bit later than usual, you had to be extra sure that it was safe to leave town unnoticed after a close call of almost being discovered by some relatives that lived nearby.
When you enter the bar, you hear some piano music. It wasn't unusual for Mimzy to invite musicians or let patrons play some music at the piano that resides in the bar, as long as they didn't get boo'ed off the stage. But this music stirred something in your soul, making you hurry into the bar.
It was Alastor.
You gasp, your heart beating a million miles a minute. You were so drawn to him. In this moment, the jazzy music that filled the air and filled up all the holes in your heart. You were captivated. So captivated, that you forgo greeting Mimzy and the bar entirely, in favor of walking over to Alastor at the piano.
He gives you a surprised look before smiling and immersing himself in the music once more.
You smile back and you can't help but sing along to Alastor's piano playing. The song was a classic, and also one your personal favorites.
As you sing, you sit down on the piano bench next to him. You notice he doesn't open his eyes, but the smile on his face deepens as your duet continues.
When your song comes to an end, it feels like you came back down to earth. The bar erupted in applause, the embarrassment flushing your whole face pink. You look over to Alastor who's looking at you with such a warm expression.
"My dear, what a lovely voice you have. Your talents truly seem boundless. I am quite surprised you knew that song."
You spend the rest of the night tucked away in a private corner talking with Alastor about all sorts of things, interests, likes, dislikes, deep conversations about life, and even your fears. But never once did you mention your home life, you'd rather die than let Alastor find out. The last thing you need is for him to treat you differently.
When you mention you listened to his every show ever since the night that you first met, his eyes light up and something in him clicked. He took your chin gently in his hand and brought your face closer to his, "Oh my, I have never met a finer woman with even finer tastes in entertainment~" which caused your heart to flutter like never before.
The tension and feelings between the two of you were palpable. It was clear to the rest of the bar that the two of you were smitten with each other, something akin to love at first sight. You tow were inexplicably drawn to each other.
You wish you didn't have to leave and go back home. But you knew you had to get home before dawn, even if you were going to come back the next day/night anyway. Relatives and in-laws usually liked to stop by unannounced and if they found the house empty, you'd be in for a world of punishment and pain. It happened once, and you would rather not relive that experience ever again.
So even though it pained you greatly, you had to say goodbye to Alastor. As you stood up to leave, Alastor's hand still held yours, you could tell he was reluctant to let you leave. Very rarely did he have the chance to enjoy such cultured and lovely conversation. With a sad and somber expression, you walked away, his hand slowly sliding out of yours.
"I hope you come back to me, ma chérie ..."
-> Part 3
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frantic-fiction · 4 months
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I'll Find My Way Back to You
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(Can't find source of pic if it's yours let me know)
Astarion x GN!Reader
Prompt: A century after Tav passes Astarion comes across an artist who is oddly familiar and paints moments that seemed to be pulled straight from Astarion's life.
Thank you to @justporo for letting me use their idea. Go show them some love.
Warnings: Tav's death, brief mention of s*icide, angst with a happy ending
Word Count: 4.6k (Oops kinda went overboard)
Masterlist
“There’s no world I wish to live in without you,”
“My dear Astarion, we will find our way back to each other. This is not the end.”
Over a century has passed—a long, lonely century without Tav by his side. Astarion doesn’t understand how he’s endured, not with the void in his chest that appeared the moment he laid them to rest. The absence of his person, his love, his Tav, has left Astarion once again alone. 
For nearly a decade, he found himself trapped in a state of near-catatonia, a prisoner of time within their empty home. He wasted away, the days blending into one another, each marked by a silent ache in his chest—the void left by Tav’s departure. Tears soaked into the earth of the carefully tended grave, adorned with vibrant flowers from Tav’s garden. He often contemplated surrendering to the sun’s embrace, letting its rays turn his existence to ash for a semblance of peace.
He yearned to end the pain, yet he refrained. He made a promise whispered with heavy hearts and painful sobs—a promise that forced them to confront the harsh reality that Tav would always leave first. Instead of embracing the end, Astarion wasted away, a ghost of his former self, yearning for the return of his love. Change arrived when Tav visited him in a dream; the details were blurry, but Tav’s beautiful smile was etched in memory. The sweet words in that dream eluded him, yet upon waking, a faint lightness settled within him. Astarion graced the night with a flicker of energy for the first time since Tav’s passing.
Tav would have wished for him to move on. They would have wanted him to live. The stagnant life he clung to wasn’t what Tav would want for him. So that day, Astarion gathered his essentials into a bag and set forth as soon as the sun dipped below the horizon. Only momentarily stopping to bid his love a final, tearful farewell. Since that moment, he hasn’t stopped moving.
Astarion believed Tav would take pride in the life he’s built—the good he’s accomplished over the many years. He traversed all over Faerun, from Waterdeep to Skull Crag, never lingering in one place for too long. He wasn’t the hero Tav was, but he aided towns against monsters, dispatched goblins, and took odd jobs to help however he could. Throughout his travels, he dedicated most of his time to sharing stories of Tav, ensuring their memory lived on. When he first heard the bards’ songs recounting the Hero of Baldur’s Gate, he knew he had succeeded. Now, you can’t sit in a tavern without hearing tales and melodies about Tav.
Every day, he longed for Tav to be by his side. He yearned to feel their soft skin, experience their tender kisses, and sense their warm arms encircling his waist—the echo of their laughter dancing in his ears. He missed every aspect of Tav and would do anything to see them again. Yet, the world ran out of miracles for him. Instead, he learned with time to cope, to come to terms with their absence, and keep them close to his heart. 
***
Astarion traverses the dusty cobblestone of Wyrm’s Crossing and finds himself back in the heart of Baldur’s Gate—a city he’s consciously avoided for most of the century. It’s a place drenched in memories from his past life with Cazador, but mostly, the streets seem to be haunted by the presence of Tav.
His return to Baldur’s Gate remains shrouded in mystery. All he can discern is that he awoke one day in Daggerford, gripped by an inexplicable yearning to revisit the city. A compelling force tugging him down the Sword Coast, Astarion initially dismissed it as mere homesickness, scoffing at the notion. Yet, the persistent thought lingered, infesting his mind until he could no longer ignore the instinct to return.
The city remains strikingly unaltered despite the passage of time and the trials it endured. The same piss-stained cobblestone, alleyways cluttered with remnants of urban life, and a diverse array of inhabitants navigating the night. It’s an unsettling constant, especially juxtaposed against the transformation of Astarion’s existence.
Wandering through the back alleys and side streets, Astarion meanders aimlessly. Occasionally, a sight triggers memories, evoking a lump in his throat. The Elfsong Tavern, once familiar, now bears a different name and identity, a formal establishment concealing the echoes of nights spent in Tav’s comforting embrace. Bloomride Park, the graveyard, and the docks—all weave together, painting a vivid tapestry of Tav’s omnipresence.
Amidst the tumult of emotions, Astarion grapples with why he subjected himself to this emotional turmoil. The urge to retreat, to flee Baldur’s Gate before the dawn breaks, lingers within him. Yet, the itch persists, buried deep within his bones, propelling him forward. He silently promises himself the night to wander the city, and by this time tomorrow, he will be on his way to another town for another adventure.
Venturing into a dim, isolated street, Astarion observes a solitary lamplight spilling its soft glow from a store window. Peering through, he discovers a small art studio. Within, a graceful elf seems to dance with a paintbrush, each stroke deliberate yet flowing. Like a harpie song, Astarion is mesmerized and utterly captivated. He watches on silently, observing the elves happily consumed with their work. It gives him a wave of nostalgia, moments of watching Tav as they painted, unaware he was watching from the door. Astarion could almost hear the sweet hums that filled the room between brush strokes. 
Then he freezes, gaze snapping to the paintings that adorn the studio, scattered reflections of his life. Images of Karlach, Shadowheart, and all the others grace the space. However, it’s the depictions of himself that seize his breath. Compelled by an unseen force, Astarion walks right into the studio. In a far corner, he sees an intimate portrayal—an embrace that resonates with familiarity. 
The bell rings, and you break from your artistic trance. Startled, you look up, and there stands the pale elf in the doorway—the hero of Baldur’s Gate, Astarion—the man who has clouded your dreams for as long as memory serves. Startled, you look up, and there stands a pale elf in the doorway—the hero of Baldur’s Gate, Astarion—the man who has clouded your dreams for as long as memory serves.
The dreams began as mere fragments—white curls, sharp teeth, delicate hands. Gradually, they evolved into more vivid scenes—muffled conversations by a campfire, laughter and gentle shoves, and stolen kisses between bed sheets—private moments of a stranger, a byproduct of an active imagination intertwined with an elven crush. Or at least that was what your mother would say. Now, the subject of those dreams stands before you.
Astarion, surrounded by the art that mirrors his life, fixates on a miniature portrait. The details are hazy, yet he recalls the campfire, the desperation in his gaze, and a significant confession followed by an embrace.
You pick up a fallen brush with a trembling hand, placing it in a water cup. Asterion was just as breathtakingly beautiful as your dream portrayed, but to see him in person has your heart hammering in your chest and your breath quickening with nerves. Wiping paint-covered hands on your smock, you took a deep breath and gathered the courage to approach Astarion. 
Staring at the portrait, you utter quietly, “This one’s my favorite. Though I wish I could have captured the others’ images better.”
“Tav.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The person you painted. My partner Tav, they used to paint too,” Astarion’s voice carries the weight of unspoken emotions.
“Oh, yes. They were the leader of your group, if I remember correctly. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Astarion remains silent, the canvas now a source of unbearable memories. He moves through the studio, examining the art up close. It’s weird to have your muse perusing around your gallery. It’s embarrassing to have Astarion see just how many pieces have been dedicated to him. What do you do at this point? Should you follow him, tell him about each piece and the dreams behind them? No, that seems pretentious, so you retreat to the canvas you’ve been working on for the better part of the week.
This piece was different—a symbol rather than a person or scene. Rings of unknown runes fan out in jagged edges, evoking a sense of beauty tinged with profound sadness. It disturbed you to your core, but you needed to paint it. It’s how it always goes. Once a dream pops into your head, whether it’s a scene, a person, or a symbol, it refuses to leave until you’ve laid it on a canvas. Picking up the brush, you dip it back into the red paint and continue to bolden the lines. 
“Who are you?” Astarion’s voice is right behind you; you jump, knocking a pot of paint over. Cursing softly, you quickly right the pot, attempting to salvage the spilled paint. Paint isn’t cheap, and in your non-upper-class circumstances, every drop is precious.
“Oh, I’m sorry; I have been very rude,” you offer your name. “I, of course, already know you, Astarion. It’s hard not to come across the tales of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate, but I guess—” Your rambling trails off pathetically as something changes in Astarion. There’s tension in his shoulders, a coldness in his eyes. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you nervously play with a loose thread on the smock.
Astarion scrutinizes you with a piercing gaze, his eyes lingering on your face as if searching for hidden truths. The air becomes taut, charged with an almost palpable intensity. Then, as if propelled by an unseen force, he reacts like a tightly wound rubber band snapping. Reaching out, he harshly pulls you to him, bearing his teeth at you. Your stomach drops, shocked by the aggression. 
“Have you been following me? Stalking me?” His voice carries a storm of anger, his grip on your shoulders unyielding, the coldness of his touch akin to ice piercing through the fabric of your being. “Don’t lie to me because I’ve shown one person that fucking scar, and I buried them.”
Your heart races, fear coursing through your veins as you whimper a response, tears welling up in your eyes. “I-I don’t know, I’m sorry,”
“Don’t lie!”
“Please, I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know; I have dreams; I don’t know why, b-but I dream of you,” your voice falters, and your vulnerability is laid bare. “I dream of you, your friends, and places I’ve never been. I’m sorry, I’ll stop, I promise.”
As abruptly as his hands seized you, they vanished, leaving you stumbling to your knees, unable to contain the torrent of tears streaming down your face. Curling in on yourself, you can’t stop the cries of apologies and promises of never picking up a brush again, of burning every last piece in the room. 
Astarion looks down at you, his expression shifting from anger to a complex amalgamation of horror and something else—perhaps realization. Stepping away, he leaves you rooted to the spot. Your gaze fixed blankly out the window. Odd and conflicting emotions swirl within you—fear, confusion, longing?—all clashing fiercely. Amidst the tumult, one thought emerges with undeniable clarity—this won’t be the last time you see Astarion.
*
Astarion’s breaths come in ragged gasps as he runs through the barren streets, escaping the grasp of the haunting memories that threaten to consume him. His thoughts are a raging storm, and he pays no heed to the bewildered faces of those he rudely pushes past. The town of Rivington is a blur as he sprints through it, a desperate escape, picking a direction and refusing to stop until his body aches, halting only when the sun begins its ascent above the horizon.
In his frantic need to run, there was no consideration for shelter from the sun’s relentless rays. Mercifully, he stumbles upon an abandoned cave. Dry, dusty, and shrouded in darkness, it becomes his refuge. In a corner, he sinks slowly against the cool, rough wall to the ground, seeking solace in the obscurity.
Astarion pulls his knee to his chest, pressing his forehead against his crossed arms. Shaking and shivering, a stark contrast to the bitter summer heat enveloping the cave, he clings to his vulnerability. Eyes shut tight, jaw clenched, fingernails dig deep into his arms as if attempting to anchor himself in the reality that threatens to crumble around him.
Desperation claws at him, and he yearns for Tav. The desire to feel Tav’s warm embrace, hands crossing over his chest, pulling him close, torments him. He longs for the soft whispers of love and the gentle press of lips. Astarion can’t navigate this without Tav. He’s a mess, barely holding on, living each agonizing day, acutely aware that the best part of him is gone, and he can do nothing to reclaim it.
The cruelty of encountering such intimate moments from his past life with Tav wounds him deeply. These were moments meant for him and Tav alone. Realizing that a stranger could capture those cherished memories intended for one person alone turns his stomach.
Anger becomes a conduit for his overwhelming emotions, and the terrified look on the artist’s face is etched in his mind, an indelible scar on his conscience. Shame burns within him, a searing reminder of the boundaries he violated. Physically assaulting someone in their own space—what would Tav think of him now?
The artist adds another layer to Astarion’s confusion. The familiarity is uncanny—the excited calf raises, the almost-stumbles afterward, the nervous lip biting, puffed cheeks during deep concentration, and the mindless dancing when no one is watching. Every little thing the artist did mirrored Tav, and with all his memories physically displayed, Asterion finds himself lost in a sea of confusion. Why does this stranger resemble his love so deeply?
The bards’ tales of soulmates and reincarnation, once dismissed as mere children’s stories and fiction, now claw at the edges of Astarion’s consciousness. What if? What if Tav found their way back to him? Weirder things have happened in his long life, and the possibility plants a seed of hope within him.
Yet, he forcefully suppresses that hope. It won’t serve him, not now. Instead, he resolves to learn more. By nightfall, he returns to the city, catching the first boat to Waterdeep. After a day and some change, he stands outside the Wizards’ tower, resentment simmering as he contemplates turning to Gale, his best chance at answers.
A groan escapes Astarion as he hangs his head, and a series of knocks echo on the thick wooden door. “This better be worth it…”
The door swings open on its own into a dimly lit foyer. Astarion follows a familiar path, the cool air and faint scent of ancient tomes embracing him. He ascends the staircase with nostalgia and reluctance, each step echoing the countless times Tav and himself sought knowledge and assistance within these walls.
As he pushes open the study door, a scene unfolds before him. Gale is hunched over a worn scroll, graying hair ruffled, and a small pair of reading glasses set on the tip of his nose. The room is bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, creating an intimate ambiance. Notes adorn the margins, evidence of Gale’s ceaseless quest for understanding.
Gale looks up, a broad, warm smile gracing his features, and Astarion is momentarily transported back to the times when this sage was only a joke he poked fun at across camp. Removing his reading glasses, Gale pushes up from his desk, an air of welcoming familiarity enveloping the room.
“Well, look who the tressym dragged in. How are you, Astarion?”
Astarion stiffens as he is pulled into a spontaneous hug by Gale. The embrace is both unexpected and oddly comforting, a physical manifestation of the genuine camaraderie they’ve shared through the years. Astarion, unaccustomed to such displays of affection, awkwardly pats Gale’s back before gently pulling away.
“I’m afraid I’ve been better.”
Gale’s eyes convey concern and understanding as he gestures for Astarion to sit. The worn chair creaks under the weight of memories and the weightier burden of Astarion’s troubled soul.
“Then sit down, my friend, and tell me how I can help.”
***
Days of tireless research and a network of favors exchanged between magical acquaintances have led them to a glimmer of hope. Though not expansive, the discovery hints at the possibility that souls entwined so tightly may have a magnetic pull toward each other. A pull is so strong that souls can find each other in different lifetimes. Tales have described soulmates experiencing memories from previous lifetimes together, but they were vague at best. The specific remains elusive, shrouded in mystery, yet it’s enough to kindle a spark of hope within Astarion’s lonely heart.
Gale, ever the bore, offers a gentle reminder, “Now, just remember, if you try to force feelings before—”
“I would never!” Astarion’s retort carries a venomous edge, an unspoken warning to watch his following words carefully. Gale raises his hands in defense. 
“My point is the brain is a prickly thing. It’s best not to rush anything it’s not ready for.”
“Yes, yes, you have said this five times already. Would you please activate the portal? I have an apology to make.”
Anticipation hums in the air, a palpable energy that courses through Astarion. A fleeting smile graces his lips, and for a moment, the weight of his grief is replaced by a glimmer of life.
Looking at Astarion with a fondness born of shared trials, Gale responds, “Of course, Astarion.”
With a confident shake of his wrist, he activates the magical circle, and the room is bathed in a radiant glow of bright runes, their purple luminescence dancing in the semi-darkness.
Astarion steps toward the portal, his heart pulsating with trepidation and newfound hope. However, before crossing the threshold, he turns around to face Gale, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Thank you, Gale. I will not forget this.”
“It was my pleasure. Now, I expect to meet this lovely artist sooner rather than later.” Gale’s parting words hang in the air, infused with the hope of rekindling a connection beyond the realms of understanding.
*
Back in the heart of Baldur’s Gate, Astarion swiftly navigated the bustling streets, an air of anticipation accompanying him. His purpose was clear—to reach your studio and beg for your forgiveness. A brief pause along the way allowed him to acquire a small bundle of daisies, a spontaneous choice fueled by the memory of Tav’s fondness for these delicate blooms.
As Astarion approached the studio, a surge of uncertainty clawed at him. Hesitation gripped his every step, the shadow of fear etched across his features. The fear in your eyes during the last encounter was seared into his memory. Had his previous outburst irreparably damaged any chance of reconciliation? The conflicting forces of his desire to see you again and the instinct to flee wrestled within him. Yet, he pressed forward, forcing himself down the street, and there you stood.
The scene that greeted him was a chaotic masterpiece of colors. Paint adorned your cheeks and arms, a testament to the artistic fervor that consumed you. Your hair, a cascade of untamed strands, framed a face that mirrored both exhaustion and creative passion. Astarion had a sudden urge to brush the strands away and press a soft kiss to your cheek, something he often did with Tav.
Your weariness was palpable—shoulders slumped, eyes half-lidded. Perhaps, he pondered, he should postpone this encounter, allowing you the reprieve of rest. The realization that he might be the last person you wanted to see compelled Astarion to take a step back, an unspoken retreat.
But just as he moved to leave, your eyes jumped up to meet his, you froze mid-stroke, and Astarion couldn’t read your expression. He should go. Why did he think this was a good idea? He’s just about to run when you nod for him to come in. Obliging, Astarion found himself standing awkwardly within the studio; you went back to painting. Your brush danced across the canvas, applying a vibrant shade of blue in deliberate strokes. Astarion’s attempts to break the silence faltered, his words dissolving into the room’s stillness.
“What are you doing here, Astarion?” The steadiness in your voice pierced the calm. You tried to hold on to your anger for the man all week. But upon seeing him standing so lost on the street had your resolve crumbling. You can’t deny the mild excitement that fluttered through your veins upon seeing him again.
His voice, momentarily lost, found its way back. “I-I came here to apologize for last week. My behavior was deplorable, and I wish to make things right.”
A wry amusement flickered in your eyes as you evaluated the bouquet, now slightly worse for wear under his tight grip. “And you believe a bundle of broken daisies would win you my forgiveness?”
Astarion, caught off guard, looked down at the bruised bouquet. “Um…well, I was hoping for roses, but they were fresh out.”
A snort escaped you as you put down your paintbrush and approached him. A tentative touch on his forearm transferred the flowers from his grasp to yours, eliciting a shiver down his spine. The longing to reach out is strong, but Astarion holds still as you retreat.
Intently studying the daisies, you began to divide the bundle into two piles. Astarion watched silently, recognizing echoes of Tav’s essence reflected in your actions. While understanding that you were not Tav, the profound sorrow gripping his heart seemed to ease in your presence.
“Half,” you declared suddenly.
“Pardon?”
“Half of the daisies survived.”
“And where does that leave us?”
With a theatrical flair, you pondered the question, pacing the room. “That, good sir, is the question. What is my forgiveness worth? I did luck out; daisies are my favorite, so you’re a step farther than roses would have gotten you.” 
Astarion, grasping the playful undertone, decided to play along. With a hand on his hips and a wicked smirk, he responded, “Well, I am a pretty lucky man. Now, please, I beg, what more can I do to gain your forgiveness?”
You hummed softly, tapping your chin. You keep Astarion in suspense for a moment before you suddenly turn to the man. “How about…I get dressed, you take me out to dinner, and we’ll go from there?”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” The agreement hung in the air, a hope for something more lingering. 
***
The dinner evolved into an evening stroll, a seamless transition from pleasant chatter to playful banter. It was an unexpected evening, but the time spent with Astarion was so easy, so familiar you didn’t want it to end. Reading about the saviors of Baldur’s Gate was intriguing, and dreaming of a vampiric elf held its allure, but nothing compared to the tangible presence of the real Astarion.
Astarion embodied the epitome of perfection – handsome, intelligent, and endowed with a wit that had you giggling all night. He was the quintessential gentleman, the embodiment of every mother’s hopeful wish for their child.
What started as a single date quickly snowballed into a series of enchanting encounters – one date led to two, then five, until you found yourself drawn into his orbit every week. The pace was exhilarating, and being around Astarion felt like being charged with an electric current. It was not just addictive; it was a whirlwind of happiness, and you couldn’t help but revel in it.
If one indulged in whimsical tales, the idea that Astarion might be your soulmate would have crossed your mind. His ability to read you so intimately sometimes felt like he delved into the depths of your mind.
The dreams persisted, evolving into a kaleidoscope of memories that intertwined your moments with Astarion and a phantom era where someone else shared his company. Astarion, at times, would cast glances at you as you transferred another dream to canvas, an anticipation lingering in his eyes. Despite his attempts, he couldn’t veil the disappointment when the visions resulted in nothing more than another painting adorning the wall.
Then, it occurred on a serene spring day, three years since Astarion first entered your studio. The sun had yet to set, and you found solace curled up with Astarion. Limbs tangled, chests pressed together, hands intertwined – a tableau of intimate connection. His cold nose nestled against the crook of your neck, his white curls playfully tickling your nose.
Behind your closed eyelids, soft images of a forest clearing unfolded – Astarion shirtless, beckoning you towards him. Something clicked, and suddenly, the foreign memories that greeted you each night became a mosaic of your own experiences. The floodgates opened, overwhelming you with a lifetime of moments – kisses beneath the stars, laughter resonating around a campfire, and heart-stopping close calls with death.
Astarion often spoke of Tav, a robust and kind soul who played a pivotal role in shaping him. He wouldn’t be who he is today without them. You now knew a bit better; yes, you had nudged him along the way, but his growth was his own, and you couldn’t be more proud. To think of the years he spent without you, the grief he must have had to push through. If the roles were reversed, you don’t believe you would have been strong enough to keep going.
Startled from his slumber, Astarion found your body descending upon his, your hand meeting his chest with firm slaps. “Stop you, little gremlin.” Groggily, he attempted to restrain you in a tender embrace. He was met with your swift departure from his lap. He heard the patter of your feet retreating from the bed.
“You are a bastard, Astarion!”
Fully alert and by your side instantly, “What did I do, my sweet?”
Worry etched into every crease of his face as he cupped your jaw, looking frantically into your eyes. You intertwined your fingers with his, your other hand reaching out to caress the skin of his hip. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.
Astarion scrutinized your face, his eyes delving deep into yours. The faintest furrow of his brows betrayed his thoughts. As if following an unspoken script, he pulled you in by the waist, foreheads gently meeting.
Glistening with unshed tears, Astarion whispered, “You remember?” His voice trembled.
“Yes… maybe it’s all still tangled. But yes, I remember Tav – well, I remember us.”
Astarion’s smile widened, his fangs peeking out, and his lips met yours in a heated kiss spinning the two of you around the room. It was a slow dance of lips as if Astarion had all the time in the cosmos to savor this moment. While you could quickly lose yourself in the embrace, you were privy to all his subtle tricks. You turned your face when he attempted to draw you back into the kiss.
“Gods, Astarion, for three years, you knew and never said anything. I’ve painted you for almost as long as I could wield a brush, and for three years, you knew why!” Another slap graced his chest, and tears trickled down your cheeks, eagerly wiped away by his thumbs.
“I wanted to, my love. The moment I realized I wanted to. But this couldn’t be rushed; you can’t rush the mind.”
“Star, I’m so sorry I took so long,”
“No, stop; you took as long as you needed to return to me.” His forehead rests against yours once more, and the room stands still for a moment. “What matters is you’re here, in my arms, and I’m not letting go anytime soon.”
A choked sob mingled with a chuckle, and you nuzzled closer into Astarion, hiding your face into his neck. “Gods, I love you, Astarion.”
“And I love you.”
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Okay loves, let me know what you think. I've been working on this for over a week and still find some sections I'm not all that happy with, but I want to move on to other pieces. Any and every interaction makes my day.
Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna
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fushic0re · 1 year
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─ 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑
𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒, 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋
𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗢𝗥 𝘅 𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗔!𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥
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𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — a prophecy has tied you to the feathered serpent god before you had even existed. now, it’s time to come home.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. possessive behavior. near death experience. smut; penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie (lots of cum bc i'm disgusting), breeding kink.
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑❜𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — this has to be the most excited i've been for a fic in a long time 🥹 i had a blast including a little bit of my culture's superstitions and lore. my sincerest apologies for any inaccurate yucatec maya translations, i used a translator website. the song the reader sings is "daughter of the sea" by sharm. i hope you all enjoy! ♡
𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 —
⁀➷ “anak” - child.
⁀➷ “po” - a respectful term with no direct translation used when talking to someone of higher rank than you such as elders or your boss.
⁀➷ “mag ingat ka” - “be careful.”
⁀➷ “ka’a suku’un u?” - “cousin?”
⁀➷ “ko’oten tin wéetel in kaxtik ti’ le ajawo.” - "come with me to find the king."
⁀➷ "in yakunaj" - "my love"
⁀➷ "in k'áaté" - my one and only.
⁀➷ "le ba'alo' leti'e" - that is her.
⁀➷ "bienvenido tin wotoch ti', in reina." - "welcome my queen."
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꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡
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FOR AS LONG AS YOU COULD REMEMBER, the ocean was your safe haven.
While others strayed from its depths for fear of the unknown, of the creatures that could be lurking down there, you had always been curious to know. There had always been an itch that couldn’t quite be scratched when it came to your love for the water. You frequented your local beach nearly every day, wandering aimlessly until you grew tired. Unlike others your age, your life was one of solitude. To an extent, you were content with it, for the ocean was your companion. It never judged you and always welcomed you. It listened when you spoke, carrying your worries far from you never to be seen again.
Nowadays, to your heart’s discontent, the ocean was not enough.
You were lonely. Truly lonely and feeling what it was like to be so for the very first time in your life. There were nights you stared into the abyss; eyes watery as you wished to drown in it. To be embraced by the one thing that was consistent in your life. Would you feel less alone then?
From the deepest point of the very sea you gazed into, the heart of a God grew heavy. K’uk’ulkan loved his people, adored them with every fiber of his body. Each and every one of the faces of those he ruled, dead and alive, were imprinted in his soul permanently. Every step he took was taken with them in mind. He prided himself for being a good leader, for doing everything and anything possible to keep his nation safe. After the events leading up to the alliance with the Wakandans, however, he did not know if that pride was deserved. He had made mistakes; misplaced his trust and allowed two of his own to die right in their very home. Namora, as loyal as she was, began to question his decisions. He was alone in bearing this burden with no one to rest his head on at night from the heaviness of the day.
What pained him the most? He knew he shouldn’t be alone.
He recalled the day he and his mother had been read the prophecy when he was a child clearly. The emotions he felt upon hearing those words spoken into existence were still fresh. There was someone for him. Just for him, and him alone.
“For His fealty, the First Son of Talokan shall be given a gift from the Gods; a descendant from the Heavens, a child of Bulan with the voice of an enchantress. For as long as He shall live, She shall rule the seas by His side.”
Years passed. Those years slowly faded into decades. After the passing of his beloved mother, it became difficult differentiating when those decades turned into centuries. Still, there were no signs of his soulmate. His people knew of the prophecy. K’uk’ulkan was all too aware of the anticipation his children felt as they eagerly awaited the arrival of their queen. Yet, she never came.
He grew angry at the so called Gods for turning on their promise – at her. Where was she? he’d hiss. My people, our people, have come dangerously close to being discovered. I have nearly died defending them all alone. My wings have been ripped from my flesh. Why isn’t she here? The prophecy meant nothing to him anymore. Just as he was naïve when he entrusted Princess Shuri with seeing his home, he was blindly foolish for believing in a fairytale.
Namor was without love in more ways than one.
You didn’t remember falling asleep. There was no explanation as to how you ended up perilously close to the edge of the water, the violent thrash of waves serving as a warning to you. Still, you remained completely still as fear immobilized you. You racked your brain for any recollections of your previous actions. Nothing came up. You couldn’t remember anything after you came home from the market.
Nothing, that is, aside from a single voice.
It cooed to you, whispered your name like it had waited a thousand millennia to taste it upon its tongue. Sang to you like you were its favorite person in the entire universe.
Come to me.
Come home.
In yakunaj.
In k’áate’.
Come home.
Taking a moment to steady your breathing, you slowly stepped away from the ledge before rushing back home. As you tucked yourself into bed that night, you tried your best to bury what had just transpired. You sought out every possibility – rational and irrational – that could have resulted in your odd behavior. You always went to the beach, maybe you just wandered there after dinner out of habit. Perhaps something went wrong with the batch of your usual tea and an ingredient that causes cognitive dysfunction was accidentally added to it. Maybe tomorrow morning you will wake up to a news report about your batch being recalled from all stores.
The explanation you vied for never came.
As time persisted, so did the bouts of blacking out, regaining consciousness, and finding yourself near the ocean. Each time, you got closer and closer to its waters. Every day after the next, you would feel the fatigue in your muscles from all of the walking. And yet, it did not stop you. You always found your way back to the ocean. It didn’t matter if you walked into ongoing traffic or if a concerned neighbor physically restrained you, the pull was stronger. Shamefully, you began to avoid leaving your home altogether. You couldn’t bear to face the condemnatory looks you were bound to receive. Whatever those in your area thought of you, you didn’t want to know. You were afraid enough of what you were becoming.
When you wake up from the next spell, you were waist deep in the ocean. Shivering as your thin nightgown stuck to your skin. Wrapping your arms around your torso, you salvaged any and all body heat. The gravity of your circumstances hit you all at once. Biting your lip, you held back your tears as your turned around and began making your way out of the water hastily. Just as your bare feet touched the white sand, you caught the eyes of the elderly woman who lived closed by. The two of you had never spoken, but her presence as a resident was always acknowledged.
“Sorry, po,” You spoke sheepishly, a polite and apologetic smile on your face.
Her expression was grave as she stared at you wordlessly. Silence stretched between the both of you and just as you were about to walk away, she harshly spat one single word.
“Magindara.”
Before you could seek clarification, she was back inside her small hut, the door slamming behind her acrimoniously. The only proof that the interaction with her was even real was the residual sting of her hostility and rage. Her persecution was the straw to break the camel’s back. Unable to maintain your resolve any longer, you fell to your knees and began to you’re your hands clutching at your chest in hopes to alleviate the pain. Humiliation, terror, anxiousness, and frustration were just a few of the emotions you were feeling. Even then, they were just the tip of the iceberg. As you cried to yourself, sand sticking to your wet limbs uncomfortably, you longed for nothing but someone to wrap you up in their arms – for someone to tell you that for once, everything would be okay. Just this once, you craved a life outside of isolation.
Once your breathing evened out, you stood up and leisurely began to talk along the shore. Soothing yourself in the only way you knew how, you began to softly sing.
“Beware, beware the Daughter of the Sea. ‘Beware’ I heard him cry. His words carried upon the ocean breeze, as he sank beneath the tide.”
Namora watched acutely as the quill in her king’s hands abruptly dropped to the floor. The warrior waited for the moment he would pick it up off of the ground and continue with his painting, but it never came.
“K’uk’ulkan?”
She received no response. His eyes held an indecipherable expression, one far away from the present.
“Ka’a suku’un u?” Namora repeated, her tone now carrying concern.
The King of Talokan turned to her for a split second before he stormed out of the room with speed she had never witnessed from him before. Namora was hot on his feathered heels, but the second she dived into the water, her cousin was nowhere to be seen.
“Attuma!” She bellowed. “Ko’oten tin wéetel in kaxtik ti’ le ajawo.”
K’uk’ulkan was stunned when he first heard it – the most beautiful sound to grace his ears. He was livid with himself for being unable to find a better word to describe the voice, for “beautiful” was such an understatement that it was borderline insulting. Without hesitation, he followed it. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know where it was coming from or who it even belonged to, he needed to find it. It called to him, turned him into a man possessed as he soared through the waters restlessly to get to it.
His head broke the surface, and that’s when he saw its owner – her. His soulmate.
She was the most exquisite living being he had ever laid his eyes upon. A gift from the heavens she was. Her beauty made him dizzy, his knees growing weak as he took in his beloved’s features. He admired her as she outstretched her arms, cupping the moon in her delicate palms. It paled in comparison to her. Everything did. Nothing could possibly compare. He remained paralyzed as she continued to sing, a foreign feeling settling in his stomach.
“Why this? Why this, oh Daughter of the Sea? Why this? Why did you forget your seaside days? Always the pride of our nation’s eyes, how could she go astray?”
The words of her melody pierced his heart. They reflected their journey far too accurately to be a coincidence. Did she know that she had always been destined for him? To be loved by the entire nation of Talokan? His lids fell shut slowly as he basked in her harmonies, feeling tranquil at last.
“I heard, I heard, across the moonlit seas, the old voice warning me. Beware, beware, the Daughter of the Sea. Beware, beware…of me.”
Namor studied her face as her song ended. He noted her red rimmed eyes and wet cheeks. Her damp nightgown stuck to her body tantalizingly. The despair in her hypnotizing voice was palpable. All of the wrath and resentment he had once harbored dissipated. Oh, my love. I have longed for you too. He could do nothing as he watched you turn your back to him from above, only pray for another encounter. He rose entirely from the sea, the wings on his ankles fluttering in the air as he watched her in the sky until she was safe in her abode. A quiet splash could be heard from under him. Attuma and Namora stared up at him expectedly.
“Le ba’alo’ leti’e’.”
He nodded slowly, eyes burning holes in the spot where she once stood.
“A human?” Attuma questioned, his voice rigid.
Namor shook his head.
“’A child of Bulan with the voice of an enchantress’.” Namor quoted the prophecy directly. “Bulan was a deity the heavens sent to the ocean to protect the moon from sea monsters. She is a siren; they are descendants of Bulan.”
“What is she doing on the surface?” Namora chimed in.
The king frowned, his fists clenching at his sides as he longed to feel her touch.
“She is lost.”  
Returning to the beach after the unpleasant encounter with the elderly woman who lived on its grounds probably wasn’t the most sensible decision. In your defense, however, nothing in your life was sensible nowadays.
Magindara was what she called you. A whole day’s worth of research, hundreds of Google searches, and several life crises later, you found out what it meant – siren. A subspecies of mermaids that were known for being especially vicious. You wanted to badly to laugh it off, to chuck it up to her being a senile old woman, but that was not an option. To do so would be like ignoring statistics. The facts of your life were laid out clearly; there was a connection between you and the ocean. A connection so strong that it bewitched you – mind, body, and soul. There were no traceable origins you could use to refute the woman’s claims. Afterall, you had no family. There was nothing more to do than return to the very place that could give you answers.
Your eyes darted everywhere in search of the familiar head of silvery locks. Once identified, you ran to her.
“Excuse me, po?” You called desperately, your eyes begging her for something. Anything. “What…what am I?”
She stared at you with a severe expression on her aged features.
“The man from the sea with wings on his ankles. Mag ingat ka, anak. He’s coming for you.”
You furrowed your brows in confusion.
“Could you expla—”
“Do not come back here.” She warned. “He will drag you down with him.”
With that being said, she entered her home and slammed the door in your face for the second time. Vexation filled you as you were met with another dead end. A man from the sea with wings on his ankles. What the hell was that alluding to? Did the elderly have to always speak in riddles? Were you in danger? Why was he after you?
You dragged your feet as you trudged home dejectedly. You were already exhausted, not sleeping a wink once you returned home after your stint last night. Sleep was unfathomable considering you were haunted by unanswered questions. Once you crossed the threshold of your bedroom, however, you could no longer ignore your body’s need for rest. Flopping down on your bed, you shut your eyes and instantaneously succumbed to a peaceful slumber.
That night was the last time you slept in your own bed.
The beach was eerily quiet, void of the usual sound of waves crashing against the shore. Seemingly, the ocean yielded to you, it’s queen, the second you stepped foot in its territory, entranced and guided by a single voice.
Come home. Come to me.
Your feet carried you to a cliff high above the sparkling midnight waters.
My love. My soulmate.
Home. You needed to come home. It was time. 
Come home.
Just a couple of more steps.
Come home.
This is your destiny. Fulfill it. Fulfill the prophecy.
Come home.
With that, you took one final step off the cliff and prepared yourself to plunder into the deep waters. Your feet were only in the air for a brief moment before a pair of strong arms caught you midair. Upon physical contact, you snapped from your trance with a sharp gasp, your heart pounding in your chest as you began to panic.
A deep, gentle voice lulled you. It was then that you finally registered who it belonged to. The being who had saved you was the epitome is beauty. Everything about him exuded regality from the air of confidence and ease he carried himself with, to the adornments on his muscular body. A large gold and jade neck plate took up the most space on his expansive chest. Ropes of auriferous shells and opalescent-like pearls hung around his neck. Gilded cuffs were locked around his biceps, wrists, and ankles. You quickly noted the alabaster wings fluttering away attached to them, the very wings responsible for suspending the both of you in the air. Your eyes trailed to his delicately pointed ears, embellished with jewels just like the rest of him. The only clothing he sported was a pair of emerald shorts that left nothing to the imagination. The walls of muscle that were his thighs were on full display, the muscles of a man built to withstand the brutality of the ocean.
This was the man the elderly woman was speaking about. The man from the sea with feathers on his ankles.
That revelation should have scared you. Every alarm in your body should have gone off.
Escaping him should have been the only thing occupying your mind. You should have kicked and screamed until your throat was raw and bloody.
But you did no such thing.
Instead, it was the way he looked at you, gazing at you with the most intense smolder in his eyes that occupied your attention. He gazed at you with pure wonder, and held you delicately yet fiercely in his arms like you were the most precious thing in the entire world. Instinctively, you placed your hands on his bare chest, mindlessly tracing the dew drops sticking to his golden skin. The beautiful man shivered beneath your touch.
“500 years I have waited for you.” He whispered reverently.
Your mouth opened, prepared for a response that never came. Instead, your vision went dark.
You woke up to hushed voices and heedful, diligent hands. One set of hands languidly brushed your hair away from your face. Another daintily shimmied clothing onto your body once they were finished drying you off with the velvetiest cloth to ever touch your skin. The last set secured what you assumed was jewelry onto your wrists, neck, and ears. Upon opening your eyes, your assumption was correct. The dress on your body was stunning, embroidered with hundreds of crystalline beads. The jewels on your wrists alone were probably worth more than what you had made in your entire life.
The women who stood above you were unlike you had ever seen before. Their skin was a brilliant shade of cerulean. Vibrant, yet pleasantly understated. Masks covered their mouths and noses, but you could still see the bright smiles behind them.
“Hello,” You greeted shyly. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
Each of them let out a small cry, their eyes welling up with tears as they bowed earnestly.
“Bienvenido tin wotoch ti’, in reina.” They spoke warmly in unison, forming a gesture with their hands at you respectfully. Their mother tongue was foreign to you, but not for long. As if you had spoken it your entire life, your mind made quick work of interpreting it.
Welcome home, my queen.
Once again, you were puzzled. You had no idea where you were or who exactly that man was and why he had taken you here. You obviously hadn’t a single inkling as to what he meant by “500 years I have waited for you”. Now, these women were calling you their queen in a language you had never heard your entire life but somehow had the ability to understand perfectly.
The sound of feet pattering lightly gradually got closer and closer until the man of the hour stood before you at the foot of the bed. The women attending to you immediately turned their attention to him, bowing and forming the same hand gesture you had seen moments ago. He looked just as regal still, now adorned in a cape tucked into golden plates of armor on his shoulders. He regarded them gratefully.
“Leave us, my children. Thank you.”
They bowed to you both once more before swiftly making themselves haste. You now had his undivided attention.
“I hope you slept well. The healers said showed signs of exhaustion.”
“I—” You cleared your throat nervously. “I did, thank you.”
The barest hint of a smile graced his features. With graceful and controlled movements, he poured water into a glass and handed it to you.
“Do not be nervous.” He spoke lowly. “Speak freely.”
“Thank you.” You squeaked out again, taking a generous gulp of water before speaking again. “Where am I? Who are you?”
“My people call me K’uk’ulkan. To my enemies, I am Namor. You are in our kingdom – Talokan.”
The water got caught in your throat mid swallow, causing you to cough obnoxiously. The man who you now knew as K’uk’ulkan, discreetly smiled to himself as if this was a reaction he had anticipated. Before you could blurt out another string of questions, he held his hand out to you.
“Come. I will remedy all of your concerns.”
As if you had done so a million times, you placed your hand in his and stood by his side. Namor lead the both of you through a series of corridors. Your eyes took in your surroundings with pure astonishment. Cavern seemed to be a secluded corner for the king, crystal waters surrounding its premises. Bits of glittery minerals were embedded into the sediment walls. An air of serenity blanketed the entire area.
From the corner of his eye, Namor gaged your reactions, his heart so full of unfiltered adoration that it felt like it would explode in his chest. His hand was still tightly clutched in yours like it was second nature. Subconsciously, you had drawn your body closer to his. He was a meticulous man of control and strategy, but at that very moment, K’uk’ulkan wanted nothing more than to take you into his arms and kiss you breathlessly. The moment was cut short when you reached his study. He offered you a seat at his desk, drawing the door shut behind him for privacy. It didn’t take long for you to deduce that the murals painted on the walls were ones depicting the history of Talokan.
“Centuries ago, my people took an herb that allowed them to survive underwater. The herb was infused with vibranium. We are the only nation aside from Wakanda to possess it.” He began, his hands tracing over a painting of a beautiful woman cradling an infant. “My mother was pregnant with me when she ingested it. That is why I am the way I am – why I am the only one out of my people that can survive on both land and underwater, fly, and age slower than the rest. For this, they made me their king. Their god.”
You listened intently, fascinated by the discovery that they had remained a secret for this long.
“There was a prophecy made shortly after my birth. The gods promised me a soulmate.”
Turning around to face you, he bore his soul to yours through his eyes as he read the prophecy to you. With each word that fell from his lips, the world around you spun quicker and quicker. It made sense. It all made sense.
“I gave up on the idea of the prophecy coming true as time passed. In yakunaj, when you have lived as long as I have, seen as much as I have, happy endings are nothing but meaningless fallacies. But then, that night came…the night I heard you sing for the first time.”
He approached you slowly, cautiously like a wild animal that would take flight if startled by any sudden movements. What happened next made your eyes fill with tears; he knelt before you. This man – a king, a god – surrendered to you with no hesitation.
“I have finally found you…” He breathed, his orbs shining with devotion. “You are home. Why do you think you have no family? No one to trace your roots back to? You were made for me. Mine.”
Your face fell in between the palms of your hands as you wept. Quickly, your hands were replaced by his. He held your face in his hands like he was holding the entire world, the pads of his thumbs gently brushing away your tears.
“Why the tears, my love?”
You shook your head, placing your hands on top of his. The spark you felt every time the two of you touched could no longer be ignored.
“Why did they just now bring us together?” You cried. “We’ve both been alone for all this time, how could they not do something about it!”
“Shhh,” Namor cooed. “You think I have not been angry with them, my sweet? I have held myself back from tearing their skies and oceans apart just to find you. But what I feel for you right now in this very moment? That feeling will always win.”
The both of you said nothing more, for there was nothing that needed to be said. Your long lost love held you in his arms as you liberated yourself from what felt like decades of anguish. His grip never faltered even as you gripped his flesh hard enough to draw blood. Instead, he soothingly rocked you as he recounted the stories of his people’s origins. Talokan was a clandestine national treasure, one of the only things on the earth that had not been bastardized. That was all the doing of this wonderful being who had been promised to you.
“They were wrong about you. Your name.” You whispered. “You’re not without love, quite the opposite actually. The actions you have taken, the lengths you have gone to protect your people and your home, are ones of a man consumed with nothing but love. You can see it in how happy they are.”
With cautious hands, you caressed his cheeks. He preened against your touch, melting right into your palms. The world would never see the stoic warrior king falter, but already, you had him firmly wound around your finger. He could sit there for hours soaking in your ardor.
“Our home. Our people.” Namor corrected. “They can’t wait to meet you.”
Lovingly, he pressed his forehead to yours, nudging the tip of your nose with his.
“Are you ready to meet them?”
He observed endearingly as your eyes widened as large as flying saucers as you nodded overzealously, a giggle tumbling from your lips. K’uk’ulkan noted once more how full of love he felt. He wondered if this was what your lives together would consist of, overcome with all of the possibilities. Was adoring you more than he did in this moment even conceivable? When your smile faltered slightly, worry filled him.
“I’ve never seen…myself.”
“I am honored to be the first to see your true form.”
The two of you stood, walking hand in hand out of his personal study and to the outermost cove surrounded with the most water. Inhaling shakily, you eyed what awaited below you with apprehension. You were not human, far from it, and yet it felt as if you and your true form were worlds apart. Namor was silent. He knew this was something you needed to do alone. The only form of assurance offered to you was a look of encouragement.
Slowly, you dipped one foot into the water and allowed the other to follow. Keeping your eyes closed, you focused on your heart rate as your body adroitly descended into the abyss of the sea. You could have easily fallen asleep if it weren’t for a tingly sensation disrupting your peace. It started small, gradually winding around you until all at once, currents of electricity bolted through your limbs. Instinctively, your lungs expanded, and you took your first gulp of air underwater. You ripped your eyes open in bewilderment when you didn’t choke on water. The clear-cut view you had of your surroundings despite no sources of light being near further consolidated your shock. A noise akin to a squeak and gasp escaped your lips and before you knew it, you were cutting through the waters with newfound ease until your head broke the surface.
Namor would have given everything to his name to capture the sight before him. There you were, beaming at him with unrivaled radiance. He stopped breathing when you lifted your tail out of the water. Just when he thought you could not be any more magnificent than you already were, you defied his expectations. The scales covering the muscle were a range of shades of lapis lazuli, emerald, and gold. Towards the tips of your forked fin, they all blended into a rich shade of dark indigo. Your torso was bare but hidden behind your locks as they cascaded over your breasts. Namor could have gawked at you for hours if it weren’t for you playfully flicking water at his face. He felt light and dream-like as your melodious laughter echoed through the cavern. He decided then and there that your laughter was his favorite song. The scowl permanently etched onto his face fell. In its place, a smile so wide it hurt spawned. For the first time in centuries, he laughed so hard his abdomen hurt.
Powerless to his desires, he dove into the water after you, finding shelter in your embrace once more. Intuitively, your tail curled around one of his legs. He submerged the two of you back into the water and before you knew it, his lips were pressed against yours. Skin to skin, naked chests were tightly pressed against each other, your arms locked around his neck as your mouths feverishly meshed against one another. A barely audible moan slipped from your mouth right into his as his tongue pushed passed your lips. Namor voiced his pleasure with a low rumble from his chest. Pathetically, you could cry again right then and there. How could you have gone without this your whole life?
A loud clearing of the throat caused you both to cease your ministrations. Namor was anything but sorry as he pulled away with the softest expression you had seen on his face thus far. He regarded the two individuals standing in front of you – a hulking man with long inky tresses and an ornate headpiece resembling the skull of a hammerhead shark and a fierce looking woman with a feathered lionfish-esque headdress. Though both clearly high up in the royal ranks with a cutthroat reputation to uphold, they studied you and Namor with mischief.
“K’uk’alkan, they are waiting for her.” The man spoke.
“You might want to put this on before you go.” Spoke the woman, pulling an opulent bra top from behind her back and extending it towards you.
The state of undress you were in hit you like a bus. Your face felt like it was on fire from embarrassment, your lover pressing a tender kiss to your heated cheek. Tactfully, he maneuvered you away from the eyes of the warrior you now knew was Attuma. The woman, his cousin and second in command named Namora, expertly laced you into the garment.
“That was so embarrassing,” You mumbled to yourself once your modesty was secured.
Namor cracked a hint of a smirk.
“Attuma and my cousin expected nothing less from us. Now, shall we?”
Talokan was a magnificent sight. The agriculture was impressive, the vibranium rich soil working wonders for the crops. Sea creatures from colossal sized sea turtles, lengthy luminescent jellyfish of different colors, lively fish, and enormous whales to start were one with the Talokanil, peacefully existing with one another. The treatment you received from everyone was something you would never get used to. Despite not knowing you, they acknowledged you as if they had known you their entire lives. K reina perdida they called you with earnest smiles and misty eyes. Our lost queen.
But you were no longer lost.
It was evident in the way the orcas sang with you as you glided through the waters, seemingly understanding you in a way no one else could. Namor’s soul was finally content after seeing you swim freely, laughing so hard your stomach hurt as a couple of toddlers crawled around on your tail. His people loved you. Just as he thought they would. And you fit right in just as you were meant to. With further exploration of your physiology, the two of you discovered that like Namor, you could survive both underwater and on the surface, donning a set of legs seamlessly upon contact with land. Your strength, speed, and agility matched up perfectly with his. For hours, he chased you through the ocean, the both of you weaving in and out between walls of coral and tall beds of seaweed with dexterity. You truly were made for him.
A week later, you were officially crowned their queen. You and Namor ended the celebration with an intimate wedding ceremony in the cavern. After years of going without each other, neither of you had the patience to wait for a union on a grander scale. You both were enough – you would always be enough. And as he laid your bare body across the bed he occupied by himself for half a millennium, he was confident in that conviction.
You felt dizzy as he pressed his hard bulge against your core. The most heavenly noise to grace your ears came out of your now husband when you raised your hips to grind against it. Your hands liberally roamed his chest, now stripped of his jewels, before slithering to his robust back. Your nails drew tiny half moons as they dug into his flesh when his lips made their way to the column of your neck. The decorum of countenance he upheld was nowhere to be found as he ravaged your breasts with his mouth, lightly tugging your erect nipple between his teeth before he began to suckle. You cried out pathetically. His lips twitched, umber orbs now staring up at you with lust.
“You are so noisy for me,” He purred. “I have not even touched the most sensitive parts of your body yet.”
“Please,” You breathed. “Please, I need you,”
Namor made his way down your body, leaving no part of you untouched by his lips. Deftly, he gripped your thighs and place both of your legs over his shoulders. Gently, he kissed your dripping core.
“You have me, my love. Always.” 
His mouth took you straight to heaven. He devoured you like a man starved, tongue flicking your nub of nerves tirelessly with precision. Your thighs were already trembling, but he had just gotten started. Your orgasm crept up on you, the strongest one you had ever experienced. It left you heaving with your back arched off of the bed, unable to do anything besides chant his name like a mantra. But your beloved’s ministrations did not cease. He continued working at your core, now swollen and glistening from your juices and his spit. The second orgasm built up slowly, the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter with each time he sucked your clit. The final straw was when you noticed his hips gyrating. He was pleasuring himself while pleasuring you. This time when you came on your lover’s tongue, no words or sounds were able to slip passed your mouth. You were quite literally speechless.
With a satisfied moan, he lapped up the rest of your arousal, cooing to you as you quivered and whimpered from hypersensitivity. His scorching body covered yours once more, his lips familiarizing themselves with yours. Namor held you tightly against him, whispering sweet nothings against your lips as you steadied your breathing. It wasn’t long before you felt the head of his cock prodding your entrance. Gripping your face firmly, he forced your eyes open. The frenzied look in his eyes as he languidly sunk into you alone could have made you come for the third time that night. But alas, the universe was on your side. Instead, you savored that moment – the feeling of him. Every inch, every vein, ingrained into your memories for as long as you shall live.
“You feel incredible.” Namor panted, now beginning to steadily thrust. “You truly were made for me.”
You could only respond with wanton cries, too consumed with desire. The king began to piston in and out of you until he was fully pounding you into your marital bed.
“Namor!”
He grunted into your ear, pulling out of you for a brief moment to flip you onto your stomach. He plunged back into you and picked up right where he left off. This time, however, he was brutal with the punctuality of his thrusts.
“Am I your enemy, wife?” He taunted. “Are you even worthy of any mercy I have to spare?”
At this point, you could not even recognize the sounds you were making. They were debauched. Depraved. Combined with rhythmic percussion of skin against skin and the squelch of your wet cunt each time Namor entered you, the song you two orchestrated was one only for the lecherous.
“K’uk’ulkan,” You barely managed to murmur. “I’m s-so close, you make me feel so good,”
He hummed satisfactorily, driving into you even faster.
“You are, aren’t you, my sweet? That’s it, sing for me. Take my seed. Carry my children.”
“Please!” You screamed as your walls convulsed around his cock. Please come in me,”
With a shout and one final thrust, he released in you. Rope after rope, he filled you with his cum with proclamations of everlasting love on the tip of his tongue. His cock remained nestled deep within you as you both descended from your highs, keeping his spent from spilling. He shuddered at the image of you round and radiant carrying his child and just like that, he was hardening inside you once more. As you lay there, thoroughly cock drunk, he began to pull out of you and slowly push back in. This time, he was tender and gentle, unhurriedly focused on taking you apart for one final time that night. The two of you had centuries left together. There was no need to rush. Then again, Namor could live another 500 years with you by his side and still feel like it was not enough. He needed you forever, and then some.
“I love you,” He whispered against the blade of your shoulder. “You are everything.”
The next morning you would wake to the sight of your husband painting a new mural. One of a beautiful woman with the upper body of a human, and the lower body of a fish. By her side, a man with ears that pointed to the skies and wings on his ankles, their eyes locked and hands intertwined.
The beginning of your story.
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vscabarca · 18 days
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how about a gavi fic where they’ve been dating for a long time but long distance so the whole relationship is basically a secret and the public finds out and the internet sort of breaks and keeps commenting on how gavi is so different with her. if you do end up liking this and writing this please tag me <33
sant jordi - pablo gavi
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summary: you visit your long-distance boyfriend Gavi and he accidentally hard launches your relationship.
genre: fluff!
a/n: @weekendlusting that request was so cute, thank you for your patience!🫶🏼 Also, i was listening to this song while writing, check it out for the full experience;)
———
Exhausted, you placed your school bag onto the floor of your hallway, walking towards the darkly lit living room. Just as you sat down, your phone buzzed and Pablo appeared on the screen.
With an immediate smile, you pressed the green button, accepting his call.
„Hello my love.“ He chimed, already laying in bed with his hood up.
„Hey amor.“ You tiredly answered, now also kicking your feet upon the couch.
„How was your day?“
„Exhausing but I wrote my last exam today.“ A feeling of relief washed over your body when you realized you‘d have now two weeks of pure relaxation, without having to do any schoolwork. But this feeling of relief was over quickly. Being in another country, several hours away from your boyfriend was hard. Especially if you had now so much freetime, you would love to spend it with Pablo.
„I‘m proud of you. Any plans for the upcoming days?“ Your boyfriend asked while playing with his hair.
„Not much. I wish I could spend them with you, I miss you.“ You pouted, feeling sad for only seeing him through the screen.
„Fly to Barcelona. I‘m having a few days off and I wanna see my gorgeous girl again.“
That’s how you ended up on a plane on a Tuesday, flying two hours to visit your long distance boyfriend for the next week.
The reunion was more than sweet. Pablo surprised you with flowers as he waited in his Audi for you. You two were over four months together, but still kept the relationship from the public. You wouldn’t actively try to keep it a secret, but also didn’t have the need to show everyone you two were together. After all, Pablo was Spain‘s teenage heartthrob and you were just a normal girl going to university.
He drove to his house first, giving you time to freshen up and put down your luggage. As it was the 23rd of April, also known as Diada de Sant Jordi, a catalan holiday, the city was decorated in red roses and Catalan flags.
As you two strolled aimlessly around a more quiet part of the city, Pablo never let go of your hand. To be not recognized too often, he wore his sunglasses and a cap, looking as handsome as ever.
The touch of his hand made you blush and the smile never left your face.
Suddenly, Pablo walked towards a little shop at the end of the street. It was so small you wouldn’t have noticed it if it weren’t for your boyfriend. Outside, there was a shelf filled with second-hand books and roses. Like the tradition says, Pablo grabbed a book with the most romantic title and went inside to pay. He stood in front of you, his signature smile plastered across his face as he gave you the book and the red rose.
„Feliz dia de Sant Jordi mi amor.“ You couldn’t help but blush, your face turning red from the charm of your boyfriend.
„Muchas gracias Pablito.“ You mused and stepped closer to press a gentle but yet passionate kiss onto his lips.
After you two enjoyed a fun day in Barcelona, you headed back home to cook dinner and have a relaxing night together.
During cooking and occasionally dancing to the music playing in the background, your phone started buzzing almost every two seconds. At first you dismissed it, thinking it was your friend filling you in on one of her hookup stories, but even Pablo turned his head in curiosity after the buzzing wouldn’t stop several minutes later.
„Don’t you think it’s important? It won’t stop.“ He asked with furrowed eyebrows, just as confused as you were. Your phone screen was flooded with people you barely knew asking about Gavi. Gavi here Gavi there, things like „you’re really together?“ or „could you ask him to sign me something?.“
It was so confusing until one of your family members told you to check Pablo‘s instagram.
You opened the app, seeing your boyfriend posted a story. Clicking on it, you saw a picture of you, holding the rose and book in your hands. Written was next to it „Feliz dia de sant jordi mi amor💞“
The blood froze in your veins. Did Pablo realize he just hard launched you?
„PABLO! why did you post me on your instagram account?“ You asked, eyes wide while he just shrugged his shoulders.
„I always do that. I thought you were okay with me posting you on my private account. You know only my family and close friends follow that account.“
Now it dawned on you. Pablo mistakenly posted the picture on his official account, the one with sixteen million followers instead of his private one with only twenty-seven.
„Baby… Of course I‘m okay with that, but you posted it on your main one. The one with sixteen million followers.“ You started laughing in despair, finding the situation oddly funny, even though whole Spain now knew about your relationship with the famous footballer.
Pablo grew red, standing in front of you in horror as he took a look himself.
„Fuck… I‘m so sorry. I swear I didn’t want to post that on there.“
„It‘s fine. I bet there are picture of us anyway from today.“ You said and assured him it was alright. He embraced you in a hug, kissing your head softly.
„At least I don’t have to hide you anymore.“
———
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footy.gossip: teenage heartthrob Pablo Gavi is not on the love market anymore ladies!💔
He was seen spending the romantic holiday Sant Jordi with a mysterious girl by his side, buying her roses and a book. What a true gentleman!
view all comments:
user1: she’s really living the Y/N lifestyle…
user2: Gavi is for sure such a sucker for his girlfriend
->user3: I mean you can even see the heart eyes behind the sunglasses😭
pedri: yn finally you came to visit… he wouldn’t shut his mouth
->pablogavi: how could I not
->user4: HE‘S NOT EVEN DENYING IT??
user5: not pedri exposing gavi😭😭
user6: WE WANT A GF REVEAL!!
user7: I just know she dresses him
->user8: fr, the change from skinny jeans to this is a blessing
->user9: pedri step up your game
user10: don’t know who the girl is but… mamá y papá.
author: wish that was you huh?🫵🏻🤨
———
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pablogavi: whoops accidental hard launch… anyway yn te amoo🫶🏼
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Text
Roman Reigns: "Go ahead, touch it." (Part I)
Warning: Explicit language
Roman. "Girl, I can't believe you refused to kiss that man. It's just one little kiss. What harm could it do?" Your best friend and co-worker, Bianca Belair, teased as you and she walked, arm-in-arm, down the corridors of the building. Tonight, you were filming yet another episode of Friday Night SmackDown to yet another sold-out crowd.
You roll your eyes as your heart skips a beat thinking about your meeting with the creative team earlier that morning alongside the Bloodline. See, you were currently one of the hottest WWE stars on the roster so of course it made sense that you somehow found a way to connect with the hottest faction in all of wrestling history, The Bloodline. You've been a part of WWE for over ten years, having made history throughout your career. You were always prepared for a challenge, no matter what came your way. However, nothing could prepare you for what Hunter (aka Triple H) had requested of you just hours ago during your meeting with the Bloodline.
What was the tough challenge he assigned to you? Well none other than forming an on-screen relationship with The Bloodline's leader, the Head of the Table, the Tribal Chief himself....Roman Reigns.
Why was this such a hard task for you? Well, it's simple really...you have no experience when it comes to men...especially hot ones like Roman Reigns. I mean...the guy looked like God himself took his time crafting him in his mother's womb. He was fine as hell and aged like fine wine. You'd be lying if you said his presence didn't intimidate you. And it didn't help that you've always had a crush on him since you debuted in NXT the same year, he and fellow Shield members, Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins, debuted. I mean, how can you not?
When he first debuted as the quiet "Muscle" of The Shield, it was no surprise that women were all over him, especially after finding out he was single. Back then, women would fall to their knees for him if he asked them to, and now, it's only heightened since his transformation into his Tribal Chief gimmick. The ladies were like moths to a flame when it came to him. Which you hated because you wished you had the confidence to even approach him and say hi, yet you didn't. Instead, you'd sort of sit on the sideline and watch as different women went in and out of his locker room, often sporting a fucked out look of exhaustion, satisfaction, and accomplishment. Why just a couple of months ago you watched, shocked, as the newcomer on the SmackDown roster, Jade Cargill wobbled out of his locker room only minutes before the show started. That's just how easy it was to fall to the command of the Tribal Chief.
Now, I know what you're thinking. Why the hell would you have a crush on a man like that? A player like that. You didn't know but the innocent woman in you couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to be with the Tribal Chief in such an unwarranted predicament. Underneath him. Screaming his name like the sweetest of song lyrics. But then again, the common sense in you wanted nothing to do with being just another woman in his bed. You've obtained one of the best, if not the best, reputations with not only the WWE Universe but your co-workers and fellow staff and you refused to mess that up with your curiosity about the Tribal Chief.
"Did you hear me?" Bianca says, knocking you out of your thoughts, as she momentarily stops walking to glance at you.
"Huh? Oh yeah....I heard you. But girl, it's simple. I just.....I don't want a love storyline right now. I've never had a love storyline in my entire career, so I was just a little shocked when Hunter said he wanted me to start working closely with Roman. I mean, it's an honor considering Roman is one of the top, if not the top, stars in the company, but.....I don't know. Plus.....I.....I've never even had my first kiss so it would be a little awkward. And I want my first kiss to be speci-" Bianca cuts you off by yelling.
"GIRL WHAT?! You've never had your first kiss?!" she exaggerates as you quickly put your hand over her mouth to shut her up. The last thing you needed was for people to hear your conversation.
"Girl...tone it down. And no...no I haven't. Sis, you should know by now that I keep to myself. I don't socialize like that. So no, I never dated." You sigh as you shrug, and resume walking down the halls to get to the catering room. You were starving and your stomach was growling.
"Girl...I knew you were an introvert, but I didn't know you were like that. Damn girl....so you're a virgin? Which means you ain't ever got no di-" you cut her off.
"Girl...uh-uh. Don't use that vulgar language around me. Plus, it's not like it's a bad thing....right? I understand people around my age (27), who usually have already been in relationships and had sex and whatnot. Hell, most have already had their first kiss, but I don't know. I've never had that experience before. So...when I do, I just want it to be special. Not because my boss told me to do it. You know what I mean?" you say as Bianca quietly nods.
"No...I get it. Your first kiss can either be a magical experience or dreadful. Thankfully, Tez made up for the terrible kisses I've experienced in my past." Bianca giggles as you both smile, turning the corner just as you accidentally bump into someone.
"Omg I'm so so-"you say quickly as you almost stumble over your words.
"Ahhh just the young woman I was looking for. Y/n...Bianca, how are you ladies?" The loud voice of Paul Heyman greets you as you look at him apologetically.
"Doing great actually. Y/n was telling me that she possibly has a storyline with Roman coming, is that right?" Bianca smiles, nudging your arm slightly as you stand quietly, playing with your fingers.
"Well...that was until Miss Y/n refused to fulfill her obligations of the storyline as a companion of the Tribal Chief, your Tribal Chief. Which brings me to why I was searching for you, Miss Y/n. The Tribal Chief himself has requested to see you in his locker room, privately. I presume he wants to speak business away from others. Surely you won't keep him waiting for much longer." Paul speaks as you feel your heart flutter.
You were pretty sure you weren't in Roman's good graces after refusing to do a storyline with him. One thing about him is that he was a professional, a businessman if you will, and he prided himself on doing whatever was best for business. Whatever kept the dollars and viewership rolling in, he made sure he perfected his craft. Hence, why you assumed he'd look at you indifferently after you awkwardly told him and others in the meeting room that you didn't think you were a good fit to be the on-screen lover of the Tribal Chief. Yet, here he was, requesting to see you.
You guess you were sitting contemplating too long because Bianca speaks up for you, "She'll be right there. Gone head, Y/n."
You snap out of it as you look at her like she is crazy. You were starving and the last thing you needed was to sit in someone's locker room for hours as your stomach growled embarrassingly.
"I'm sorry Paul, but...I can't. My decision stands. Now if you'll excuse me, Bianca and I were headed to get something to eat." You say politely as you try to walk past Paul, but he blocks your way.
"Settle down Miss Y/n. He's not asking you to do anything unbecoming. He simply wants to have a one-on-one verbal exchange with another top star in this business. Now, being that you are at the top of the women's division, I'd presume you want to make decisions that demonstrate why you are at the top. Hence, why it would be in your best interest, and the best interest of this company, to meet with the Tribal Chief, the Head of the Table, the Greatest Champion of the Modern Day Era, the G.O.A.T., and Undisputed WWE Universal Champion himself. Now please....let's not keep him waiting. After all, he is a man with a very busy schedule and timeliness is a courtesy to others." Paul rambles as you look at him and Bianca in disbelief as he begins walking away, gesturing for you to follow behind him.
"See you later girl!" you hear Bianca say as you reluctantly follow Paul's lead.
Your mind is racing as he leads you down the corridor until you finally make it to the only locker room with The Bloodline sign stamped on it. Paul instinctively knocks on the door as you mentally prepare yourself for whatever this is going to turn out to be.
"Who is it?" you hear Roman's booming voice question from the other side of the door.
Oh God....his voice was filled with so much authority, it scared you.
You swallow the lump in your throat as Paul responds, "It's me Tribal Chief, I've brought along Y/n to speak with you as you requested."
"Come in," Roman responds as Paul happily opens the door for you. You inwardly sigh.
Here goes nothing.
You slowly walk into the locker room as you come face-to-face with The Bloodline members, The Undisputed tag team champions, The Usos, The Enforcer known as Solo Sikoa, the Honorary Uce Sami Zayn, and of course, the man himself, Roman Reigns.
Breathe Y/n....breathe.....
"So, I told her, why eat your p*ssy when I can get fish from Captain D's then I kicked her stank a** out my hotel room. Hahahaha" Jey laughs as he, his twin brother, and Sami chatter.
Suddenly, all chattering comes to a halt as the attention is turned to you. Gosh, you hated this. You hated being the center of attention. It made you very self-aware of your appearance, flaws, everything. You awkwardly nod your head towards them before you build the courage to use your voice.
"Hi...." You mutter.
"Everyone....out, now." Roman commands as the Bloodline members immediately jump to their feet to leave.
"Sup, Y/n," Jimmy says quietly as he walks past you, his brothers and Sami following suit, each greeting you.
Paul quickly goes over to Roman and whispers something in his ear as Paul not-so discretely points at you before hurrying out the door.
The door closes and it's now just you and Roman in the quiet room. You look anywhere but his face as he looks at you in amusement.
"Don't be shy, come on. Have a seat." He says lowly as you slowly follow instructions and take a seat on the couch, making sure to keep a distance between the two of you.
He chuckles lightly at your actions before taking a deep breath.
"Well, I don't want to keep you long, Wiseman said he interrupted you on your way to get some food, so I'll be quick. The reason I wanted to speak with you was to ask why you didn't want to do the storyline with me. Have I done something wrong? I'm sure I haven't because we haven't crossed paths since your days of the Wyatt Family (which you were a part of) and my days as a member of The Shield." He says as he looks over at you, curious to hear your response.
"Listen Roman...I-I don't want to come across as rude, okay? I don't want to come across as someone who doesn't do what's best for business. Trust me, I know you and I partnering together would do astronomical numbers but-"
"But what?" he says softly as he leans back, spreading his legs to get comfortable.
You try not to be so obvious as you take a glance at his sweatpants or rather what was in his sweatpants as it came to full view when he leaned back. Gosh, just the outline of it was.....
Omg girl, no! Stay focused!
A light chuckle knocks you out of your inner monologue as Roman bites his beautifully pink bottom lip.
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(I do not own this gif)
"Like what you see, babygirl?" he quips, noticing how you instantly look away after being caught staring at his dick print.
"N-n-no I wasn't looking I-..haha" You laugh nervously as his presence starts to overwhelm you. This is the most you've ever spent alone with a man. You've officially broken a personal record of yours.
"It's okay...you can do more than just look at it." He smirks as your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at his comment.
"E-excuse me?" you say standing to your feet, displaying disgust at his lewd comments towards you.
He shrugs, casually propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of him.
"I'm just saying....I can put that mouth to good use. Maybe that'll convince you to be my on-screen romance." He laughs.
"Excuse you, but I am not some hoe. You think just because you're used to getting what you want, I'll just agree to anything you say? Look, I'm not your cousins, I'm not Sami Zayn, and I'm certainly not the Wiseman Paul Heyman that waits on you hand and foot. I-" he cuts you off.
"Whoa, whoa Miss Class-And-Dignity. I'm only teasing. Calm down, we have serious business to discuss. I'll keep my hands to myself...if that's what you want." He says as you roll your eyes but take your seat again.
"Listen Y/n, I'm a businessman that makes the best business decisions for my career and those I work with. I want to elevate to the top of the mountain and do whatever it takes to maintain it at the top. With that being said, when the opportunity presented itself, I had to jump on the chance to work with you. After all, you are in a league of your own. I mean.... you are the first black woman to main-event Wrestlemania. You are the first woman in WWE history to do a lot of things. You are at the top of the women's division-"You listen quietly as he continues.
"..... And I'm at the top of this company. I am the greatest champion of all time and it's only right that I have the greatest women's wrestler by my side, Y/n. And that's you. No other woman on this roster can compete with you. No other woman fits me the way you would. I'd love to have you by my side. Imagine the things we could do together, running this business. It's an opportunity that we just can't pass up." He says as you slowly consume his every word.
He did have a point. You two were the best of the best, the cream of the crop, so it only made sense to collaborate and make some major money. But you just couldn't. Just the mere thought of working with him scared you a little. Again, as previously stated, this is the same man you've had this huge crush on for years. You didn't really know how to act around him.
He watches your features closely as you ponder over his words.
"Listen, Y/n. I don't want to force you into working with me but just think about it. I want you to be comfortable. Besides, what is it exactly that makes you so.....nervous around me? You seem so confident in the ring cutting promos and tossing people around the ring, yet right now, you look.......nervous." He inquires curiously.
You sigh deeply.
Well....here goes nothing.....
"Well...it's just that...well....I...." you try to come up with the right words to say without making yourself look stupid.
He stays quiet as he looks at you expectantly, wanting to hear what you have to say.
"I just.......Roman, I've never been in a relationship before, okay? I've never even had my first kiss yet, so when they asked me to start a romance with you, I got extremely nervous. Especially when they said they wanted us to eventually kiss for the cameras. It just makes me nervous, and I don't want to mess this up. I-"
"You've never been kissed before?" he says, in an almost shocked tone.
You shrug your shoulders, playing with your fingers as you quickly respond, "No."
It grows quiet in the room as he ponders what you just revealed to him. No wonder you damn near flipped at his filthy comments earlier. 
Suddenly, he smirks to himself. Maybe he can get you to get comfortable around him. If it was experience you were looking for....maybe he could offer his services to you.
"How 'bout this, Y/n, you agree to work with me, and I do what I can to make you comfortable with me. It's a win-win situation." He suggests as you look at him confused.
"What do you mean?" you ask as he stands to his feet, rolling his shoulders back as he peers down at you.
"It means I'm gonna make you comfortable with my body first and foremost. Body language is especially important in convincing the audience. So, for now, I'm gonna familiarize you with my body. Capeesh?" he says grinning at you.
You look at him confused and nervous, "And how are you going to do that?"
Suddenly he removes his shirt as you let out a gasp. Followed by him dropping his pants, along with his boxers, as he stood bare in front of you.
"Oh my God!" you squeal as you instinctively cover your eyes.
"Go ahead, touch it." He smirks, licking his lips, as you can't believe what is happening right now. Did this man really just expose himself to you and permit you to touch his dick? This can't be reality.
"Absolutely not. Are you insane?!" you say continuing to keep your eyes squeezed shut.
"Babygirl...it's a dick. It's not gonna bite. Touch it. Feel it. Stroke it. Suck it. Fuck it. Do whatever you want to it so long as you don't bite it." He encourages as you're going insane in your head.
This can't be real.....
"Time is ticking." He sighs playfully looking at his gold Rolex on his wrist.
Omg...omg....
He clearly wasn't gonna leave this alone. Maybe if you tapped it, he'd pull his damn pants back up and you could run out of there, never to see his face again.
You sigh heavily, "Omg this is....o-o-okay fine but....I'm not stroking it." You say nervously as you shakily reach your hand out blindly (as you still have your other hand covering up your eyes).
Roman chuckles at your innocence. He's never had a woman react to him this way. Sounds crazy, but it made him a little excited, intrigued, almost feeling animalistic like a predator amongst its prey. He was gonna break you in, starting now. However, it appeared you were having trouble with this simple task of touching his dick, let alone looking at it. Maybe you needed a little encouragement.
"Here, do this," Roman says as he grabs your hand and gently guides it around his dick. You instantly squeal upon contact with the thick flesh.
You couldn't believe it. It was a new sensation as your hand remained unmoving on the soft skin. You hear Roman slightly hiss and you grow scared. Had you unknowingly hurt him? Gripped him too tight?
"I'm so sorry. Sorry. Did I hurt you?" you apologize, releasing your hold on his flesh.
He chuckles deeply, "No, actually. You did quite the opposite. I'm sorry but I will try to contain myself a little better next time. Now, that wasn't so hard was it? Congratulations, you've touched a dick for the first time." He teases as he reaches down to pull his boxers and sweatpants back up.
"You can uncover your eyes now." He grins as you finally do that, heart racing in your chest.
"I....I-I...." you stutter, unable to recover from what just happened.
"Don't worry, you ain't gotta say much right now. I know you're perplexed. Look, it's almost time for SmackDown to start and I've held you up long enough....I'll see you later, okay?" he says as he sits back down on the couch, grabbing his shirt from the floor.
"O-okay...." You whisper as you hurry towards the door.
My eyes, my eyes, my eyes. My hand, my hand, my hand.
You couldn't get out of that room quick enough as you shut the door behind you. You were in such a rush that you didn't notice Jade and Naomi standing off to the side (having been engaged in conversation until they saw you), looking at you hurry away from the Tribal Chief's locker room. Jade had a scowl on her face whereas Naomi looked a little concerned. She knew the type of guy her cousin (by marriage) was and though you and her weren't friends (as you always kept to yourself), she didn't want to see you become just another hit and quit for Roman Reigns. No, you were above that. So, what were you doing in his locker room...alone....she wondered. She didn't know, but she'd speak with you later on tonight.
Your feet hurry towards your locker room, your appetite long gone. You were beyond perplexed and to make matters worse, there was a slight tingling, aching sensation in your nether region and it wouldn't go away. It was a foreign feeling to you.
"Oh God, I think I need a cold shower." You whine as you finally reach your private locker room, slamming the door shut behind you.
Tonight started off surprisingly...........but the Tribal Chief had more surprises for you to come..........
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kaizynofsickness · 3 months
Text
Choso x reader... Breathe, Just breathe
Choso x reader~Breathe, just breathe~
Synopsis: Basically virgin experience. You have been dating Choso for 6 months and the topic about sex has been in the air for a while, so now it comes to action and he's... Huge.
WARNINGS: Really gentle sex, big dick Choso (7.2 painful inches and he is thick), pet names (sweetheart, baby, princess, love), popped cherry and some blood on dick, natural virginity loss themes, tears of pleasure, Choso's insanely hard and it's mentioned a lot, foreplay, slight size kink I guess, unprotected sex, mentions of toys (none used), mentions if touching yourself (in the past, none happened), 'rubbing', Reader squirts but she never has before, praising, soft Dom! Choso, sweet talk, pillow talk.
Songs that match: Streets (Silhouette Remix) by Dojo Cat
Angels in Tibet by Amaarae
You've been dating Choso for a few months now, 6 months to be exact. He's a quiet and loyal lover, he also has his goofy side that mixes girlfriend and best friend vibes. But there's been a little bit of tension in the air about the topic to carry the relationship out more... Sex. You love those intimate moments with him and the thought has crossed your mind often. It's just... You never had sex. You don't know about Choso (he hasn't), but they say the quiet ones have the best dick... And maybe you could find out..?
But little did you know your 'innocent' boyfriend was thinking about it even more than you. Every time he kisses you and gets a taste, he wonders how you taste in your pussy. He ponders how wet you can get from a simple loving touch... How loud he can make you, how messy it'll get? The scenarios make his pants tighten... If needed, he'll take the time out of his day to learn how to really please you until you're on cloud 9, dying from pleasure and a sloppy mess... Or maybe do you want him to drown in between your legs? Do you want to be on top of him? God, he overcomplicates it.
"Just fuck her..." Choso talks to himself and lets his hair fall out of his ponytail as he runs his fingers through it. He stares down at his hard on... This is all because of you, the thought of you. It's been so long he's been thinking about it. He grabs his phone and calls you up. He'll make that first move...
Choso's heart strings and paces when he hears the dial ringing... Then your voice greeting him with a 'hello?'
"Hey, sweetheart." Choso casually answers you, subconsciously putting a fist on his straining clothed dick. "Can you come over to my place?" He gets to the point. "Hm, why?" Your voice reaches over the other line. Choso gulps...
'To fuck you in ways you couldn't imagine. I want to see your face when you can't breathe right and when the pleasure is sickening...' how bad he wishes to tell you all of that... "I want to see you, love." Choso half lies. He hears your soft voice giggle mockingly. "Okay, fine. I'll be there in 10." The line clicks. Choso finally lets out a breath... He swears he forgot to breathe. Choso normally can call you with no problem, actually, sleepy calls are one of his many favorite things to do with you. He just hopes you couldn't hear the stress in his voice or the sound of his fiddling with the fabric on his groin. He looks down again only to see it's grown and God, doesn't it hurt.
Ten minutes and you'll be here. Choso looks around his room, his bed is made and things out where they need to be, nothing out of place on the floor. It should be comfortable for you as much as it should be for him, you'll most likely be the one bleeding when he breaks your hymen... Shit, right, he'll hurt you either way no matter how gentle and sweet he is. Plus his big dick and then his boner and him being a grower. It would be any woman's dream, but not a virgins... Maybe he'll use these ten minutes to get rid of his boner. But he wants to save it for you. He ignores the pain and goes to wait outside his room for you...
When he hears a knock, his dick seems to gather all the attention once again. Lucky him he's wearing loose clothes or else it would be so noticeable. He walks over and opens the door--- "Hey, Cho." You stand on your hip wearing a baggy foggy blue T shirt and black tights with yellow and blue stars placed on your thighs and your calf with matching blue shoes with your shirt. You look so fucking cute in such a well thought outfit yet he still wants to rip it off of you. "C'mon, Y/N." He grabs your wrist and slides his fingers down to your hand, interlocking touch. He leads you to his room. You stupidly and cluelessly follow him with a chirpy smile. "Are we going to watch TV or something? All you really wanted was to see me so..." You ask and take a seat on the edge of his bed, resting your elbows on your thighs while glancing at him... *Shutting and locking* the door. He takes a while to answer your question, looking a little blushful. "Y-yeah... Pick one, baby." He turns to you with a sweet reassuring smile. You grab his remote and turn the TV on, going on Cinema and scrolling down. Choso sits next to you, obviously keeping a 6 inch distance from you. You easily notice it, side eyeing him as he sits so stiff. You shuffle near him, leaning on his shoulder. Choso jolts and looks over to you, your face so close to his and your lips looking so damn kissable. He hides it with an awkward chuckle and firmly rubs on your back. You pick the popular movie, Human Earthworm 4, a classic splatter horror movie. Choso rolls his eyes at your movie choice. "Lemme see it, baby." He reaches your hand with his only to be swatted away. "I wanna see this..." You give him a pouty face.
That made him even harder. His eyes lock on yours pathetically and he squeezes the fabric of his pants. Your eyes roll up to look at his with your lips out in an adorable pout. Shit, could you make that face while getting stuffed with cock? He looks away and moves his hands from the remote, allowing you to see whatever. You make a little happy sound before turning the movie back on.
"AHHHH!" Screams emit from the TV. Blood splatters everywhere and guts pour while the man begins to tear the victim's mouth. You yawn on Choso shoulder before nuzzling closer. "You're warm... Can I get on top of you? I wanna sit in your lap." You give him a hopeful stare.
"Uh-" God, you look so cute with a begging face. Why does tonight must he turn everything holy to something sexual? And for you to sit on his lap, on his crotch, his painful hard dick... It would cause him to flip you and give it all to you right then and there.
He takes too long to answer and you climb into his lap and snuggle---
Something pokes you. You jolt up. A hard as rock texture right under your ass, almost near your hole. You look down to see if it was the remote. "H-holy shit, Cho..." You give him a hot and sweaty stare with a face flushed red and a crooked, shocked smile. Choso grumbles, looking down at where you're sitting. "Uh..." You never seen him hard before.
"Sweetheart, I'm sorry but... Damn I couldn't stop thinking about you and... Shit, I seem like some perv, huh?" He awkwardly laughs, ruffling his hair and ruining his two ponytails, one coming undone. You swallow hard, unable to say anything. "A-about me...?" You manage to say.
Through the TV and its screams and bloody sounds with the colors lighting up the dimly lit bedroom, all you can hear is Choso's unhinged breathing and see his worried face. "Yes... I was thinking of..." He paused, trying to find the words to sugarcoat it. "Damn it. I just wanted to have sex with you. It's been a hard topic to bring up." He says through his teeth. You blink stupidly and glare at his face to his ever so hard dick and back to his red face. You abruptly let out a breathy laugh and squirm a bit. "I don't mind you taking my first..." You say in your hand, getting all flustered. Even with the horror show playing, it feels so hot and romantic. In pure shock he looks up at your face, all red, matching his. "Are you sure..? Because right after I get your consent I'm undressing you and pressing you down." He grabs your hands and cups them, giving you a serious stare. "Yes--"
Choso wasn't joking, because from then he placed you off his lap and onto the mattress on a pillow and began to take his shirt off. You watch as his muscular complex unfolds before you. You've seen it so many times before, but it wasn't as hot as it is now and the TV's red glow illuminating the room gives it such a sexual vibe. You shudder at the sight. Choso's hands tug at your waist line before sliding your pants off. "I'm going to ask again... And as a warning... I'm... Pretty big." He caresses your thigh and rubs live circles. "I'm sure I can take it..." You rub your hand and swiftly move your fingers through his hair and purposely undo his other ponytail, his soft and silky black hair falling down to his shoulders. He hums in response, "I... don't think so." He still removes your pants and shaky removes your panties.
Out of instinct, you pull your baggy foggy blue T shirt down and cover your pussy and squeeze your thighs together. Choso looks a little worried that you covered yourself and also because he wanted to admire your body. "Love... We need to remove your shirt unless you want it on?" His frame hovers over yours, his legs straddled around yours. You look up at him with a worried glance. God, he looks so hot like that. Glaring down at you with his long hair, his bare chest and pants dangerously low on his hips.
To show you're okay and comfortable, you lift your shirt off and unclip your bra, tossing it to the side. Choso's eyes roam all over your nude body and his boner grows. "Fuck..." He curses under his breath. He needs to be inside... Now. But he takes his time and slides a finger in between your legs, earning a small 'eep' from you in the process. You slowly open your legs wider to let him inside. He rubs on your clit and moves to find your cunt. Slowly, his middle finger goes it. That's when he realizes how tight you are. You're going to need some mad stretching... You wrap your arms around his back as he leans closer to you and plants feather kisses on your neck. You mutter something out while his finger pushes in deeper. He gently runs it in and out before pressing it in and curling his fingers. Soon, he adds his ring finger in and gets you all wet.
Of course, you had your fingers inside yourself before but yours aren't as long and as thick as his. And the way he is so gentle with it makes you all whiney.
Choso gets rougher with your before trying harder to please you. "C...Cho." You whimper in his ear. It takes every fiber in his being not to put in his dick. You say you can handle it, you claim with a little smirk. As if. A whole 7.2 inches long and a width of 2 inches... And he's a grower, so God knows what he is right now, and let's hope for your sake it's not even an inch. "What is it, baby?" He looks into your glossy eyes. "What's wrong...?" He rubs your cheeks. "I can take it... No n-need to restrain yourself." You claim. Choso shakes his head and plunges his fingers in deeper to silence you. "Not yet, princess... Be patient. You're still so tight and it won't work-" he tries his best to clarify that to you. You pout at him. Choso presses his lips onto yours and melts you with his tongue kiss. You moan into his mouth and whine. He pulls apart and a small strand of saliva hangs beside he does down again to lick your lips and enjoying your flavor all while thrusting his fingers and curling them inside your wet walls. You close your eyes in bliss and focus on the pleasure. You open them to see his hot body with the TV'S flashing blue and yellow to red lights on him through half lidded eyes. Who knew he could look so damn majestic while being so filthy? He begins to go rougher on you, your wetness seeping out. You moan helplessly, in such ecstasy as his fingers work magic in you. "Ngh... C-Choso, I--- shit~" your eyes roll in the back of your head, the pleasure chasing you. It gets all fuzzy and you just succumb willingly, knowing you're safe in his hands. He smirks at your state and goes down to bite the flesh near your neck and trail wet kisses down your neck to your chest. His thumb sneakily finds its place to message your clit. Your breath hitches-- "Sh, baby... I got it."
No way it's his first time. He's multitasking like he's done this before, like he has bodies on bodies of women and maybe even men... He's doing way too well for someone's first time. But the truth is, he just spent time learning how to please you and he's doing what he thinks is right.
You arch you back when the familiar feeling (because you to please yourself) builds up and makes your heart pound in your ears. But then the pleasure shifts to an overwhelmingly stuffed feeling... It feels so different to you. "Somethings... Happening..." You squeak out weakly. But Choso doesn't stop, matter of fact, he goes harder, the lewd sounds echoing. "Choso~" you try to warn and move his hands away but he grabs your hand and interlocks your finger, pressing it above your head. Your voice gets louder and your sweet moans drown out the TV. You cum on his fingers for the first time, yet it comes out different. It almost gushes and it's a huge mess.
It felt so different ...
Choso smirks at his work before kissing you breathless. His fingers slowly go out, your slick connecting with his fingers before he breaks it, pulling away. "What did I just do?" You question hazily as if Choso knows. "You had an orgasm. I'm sure that's not your first one..."
"N-no, but it was so intense and--!"
Choso cuts off your rambling and kisses you sweetly. "Did you feel good?" He asks you lowly in such a sexy tone. You pause before timidly nodding. "Then that's all that matters..."
Finally, he presses you on your back and puts your knees near your head. He unties the knot in his pants before pulling his dick out. Your eyes widen and the shear size. He's... He's fucking unrealistically big. At least to a virgin who never saw this in real life, in front of her face. Choso looks at your face with worry. "I'll be easy on you, okay? Besides, you said you can take it all..." He positions his dick head to your wet cunt. "I didn't think you'd be s-so damn big...!"
His tip pushes inside you, the thickness stretching you out more than his two fingers did. Thanks to his careful prepping, it goes in much easier than imagined. "Ah... Gosh, you feel better than I imagined..." he grits his teeth. "So tight still..." He grunts. You cry out and claw at his back, feeling tears build up. Choso quickly goes to rub the tear and kiss some stray ones away and to your quivering lips. "I got you..." He whispers to you. Only 3 inches in and it begins to hurt. "Cho...so... N-no more..." You whimper and squirm around his size. "S' big..." Your eyes water. "One more? A little bit more, kay? I won't put it all in, just a bit..." He condolences you while his hand grabs your neck. Yet the way his hand wraps around your neck doesn't feel threatening or in a sadistic way, he doesn't put any pressure at all. He just holds your neck and rubs. You nod and give him consent... He pushes a little more in before stopping. 4 inches in completely, yet you still have 3, almost 4 more to go. And it almost hurts you. "Adjust, baby. Get comfortable." He speaks firmly.
"I'm f-fine..." You hic with lazy eyes staring at him, tears daring to come out. Choso takes his thumb and smears a tear away. "Mmh... You're so warm around me." His eyes go half lidded and hazy, taking long blinks. You can feel him subconsciously putting more inches in you while he thrusts out. The slow way he does it and rolls his hips, buckling them to yours before pulling out and shoving it back in. It sends a pleasing pain to you. "Oh, s' much... Inches!" You squeal out and toss your head to the side, drool pooling out the corner of your soft lips. Now 6 inches are in you. You're full of cock and it makes you sick off of it. "Can I put the last bit in, princess?" He asks you, his lips dangerously close to your. "Yes..." All of it is in, the base of his dick touching your wetness. He pulls it all out and sees blood... He popped your cherry, your hymen is broken. "Do you feel okay?" The blood causes him to question. You look at him with lustful eyes with a weak pleased smile. "I... Feel different." You exhale sexily. Choso smirks before pushing his dick back in with some ease. The full feeling spreads again. He begins to move in the same previous motion, his hips rolling and his dick pressing on your G-spot. Your breath stalls from the full feeling. You scream out, moans echoing around and fitting the mood. Your eyes water and chest rises before abruptly stopping. You breath hitches from when the full length comes back in, so much inches of cock killing your insides, more blood getting on it. His hot and sweaty hand moves away from your neck and rests on your chest. "Breathe, just breathe..." He coaxes you. You try your hardest, but you've never been so damn full before. His hard dick glides in at a faster pace, you cunt loosening and making him feel so good. He moans out and lowers his head, black hair strands hanging while he goes rougher... Soon, he's pounding in you, the sound of skin to skin hitting being so loud your moans almost drown out. You grips onto his back for support and tears stream, yet even in such a horny state, Choso kisses the salty water away and rubs on your thighs before giving your hand a loving firm squeeze. All of this shows just how much he lives you and he's trying to make you feel as good as he can. You gasp out when he pounds balls deep, the pleasure becoming too much. "Choso--"
"Breathe baby, it's f-fine---fuck---you're okay~" he tries to keep in all of his bottom moans. You mewl helplessly and feel that same overstock orgasm... Your nails begin to cut a thin layer of skin on his back when the feeling rises. "shit, i-its coming, im---" you squirt uncontrollably, clear liquid flowing out. Choso fucks you through it, loving how you twitch around him and squeeze. It causes his orgasm to creep around. What he has been waiting for, he saved it for you because he wanted to cum for you and only you. Choso thrusts into you like a hungry man and pulls out right when the white cum whips out, seed falling on your stomach and some in between your shaky warm thighs.
You both pant heavily as the after glow. Choso takes his time to admire the mess in front of you, your hair is messy, your body has his cum on display, your cum and how it drenched the sheets and his pants, the way your chest rises and falls, you glistening pussy. He snaps out his trance when your eyes lock on his. "Cho...?" You breathe heavily, still trying to collect air. "Yeah, sweetheart?" He leans over you and wipes some staining tears on your face. "C-can we take a bath together?"
How could he say no?
He took you to the bathroom, he placed you in the warm water with him. In the shower, he simply couldn't keep his hands off you, offering to help bathe you knowing damn well he was asking just to feel all over you again. He kept kissing you whenever you were distracted and loved to lick over the hickeys he left all over your neck and get firm grips on your breast, nibble on your ear, grind on you. It was like he was still so horny and needy for you. But your fucked out, cumming twice was so overstimulating, and that wasn't even a regular orgasm that happens when you play with yourself.
He stayed in the bed with you, having you wrapped in his arms as he whispered to you. "Did I do well?" He constantly asks. "Yes, for the 29th time. Are we going to make it 30?" You playfully roll your eyes. Choso fleecy chuckles and snugs you closer. "I just like the affirmation." He says into the crook of your neck. "Because I'll tell you over and over again how amazing you did for me..." His voice lowers and goes straight to your heart. You scoff and look down at his deep purple eyes that shimmer for your affection. "I didn't even do anything..." You grumble, getting redder at the second. "You made me cum and got me ever so hard plus let me take your virginity."
"That's what you do in sex, Cho..." You run your fingers through his hair (you do it so much it's like second nature). Choso sighs heavily and looks at your sleepy eyes. "I know... But seems like what you didn't know about the after affects of sex. You're getting sleepy." He brushes his finger over your red nose, turning redder. You mumble into his chest . "Sh..."
He rumbles a laugh and kisses the top of your forehead and gets into a comfy position with your legs straddled around him. "Rest well, princess..."
✨Ze End✨
504 notes · View notes
bisexualiteaa · 12 days
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Feo, Fuerte Y Formal
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Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (FLUFF!!)
CW: sickeningly sweet domestic Cooper, Pre-Ghoul copper, cursing, dancing in the kitchen, talk of marriage, talk of kids, mentions of his divorce, mention of alcohol (nothing crazy though) potential grammatical and spelling errors! Briefly proof-read! Slightly suggestive themes (cooper can’t keep his hands off his pretty girl 🤭)
AN: For all my Cooper Howard lovers who have been asking for him Pre-Ghoul/Pre-War I finally present one to you! I know most of you wanted smut, but honestly for some reason this just felt more like what Pre-War life with Cooper would feel like in my opinion. I feel as if maybe I know more of him in ghoul form to know better how to write smut for the ghoul side of him, but who knows! I may just have to come out with a part two that is just smut of him after he gets married to reader, still pre war, thoughts? 👀 anyway, I hope y’all enjoy! Hope I can do my pre-ghoul loving Cooper lovelies justice for this! 🥰
Also in celebration of international jazz day, I included jazz music! The songs Cooper and reader dance to in their kitchen incase y’all want a more immersive experience! ☺️ I know Michael Bublé’s version isn’t exactly in that time period but his version just feels so much more intimate in my opinion, but feel free to listen to the original if you wish instead!
Tag list: @expirednukacola
It was like any other day in your quaint little home. You were standing by the stove, working on food for dinner for you and Cooper waiting for him to come home from work. You were just finished up with mixing up the mashed potatoes with a mixer when you heard keys jingle in the front door to your house. You smiled giddily as you heard the door open, the clomp of Cooper’s signature cowboy boots across the linoleum floor as your man stepped inside. “Welcome home honey!” You called from the kitchen as he took his shoes off in the entrance of the house, padding into the kitchen once disposing of his work bag and cowboy hat on the hangers near the living room. “How lovely it is to see your face after a long day” he said, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You gave a contented hum as he rested his head against your shoulder before placing a sweet kiss to your cheek, not wanting to distract you from the absolute art that was your cooking. “How was work?” You asked, making him chuckle as he stood next to you, watching you as you put your heart and soul into the gravy for the mashed potatoes and pot roast finishing up in the oven. “Oh you know, the usual. Kinda pissed that ain’t nothin’ special happen today” he said, making you turn to him. “All that fuss of bringin’ you in on your day off, just for it t’ be a load a nothin’?” You asked, upset for him that they would do that to him, of course it wasn’t the first time this had occurred, he’d been called in on his days off quite often actually. But it never really upset you, not when you knew it made him happy and when at the end of the day, he’d always come home to you. “Yeah…never fails” he said, making you shake your head. “Figures. I oughta have a chat with that agent of yours to letchya off the hook every now an ‘gain. A day off is meant to be enjoyed! To relax! Not to come straight back into work with more stress than there already is to begin with” you said, making him chuckle at the threatening way you held the spatula in his direction with gravy dripping off it into the pot. “I’m sorry again we couldn’t go to that jazz concert ya wanted to go see” he said, making you somber for a moment remembering the cute plans you’d made for today since he was supposed to be off, but were ruined the moment he answered that damned phone that almost never stops ringing. “Oh don’t you sweat it, darlin’. Been listenin’ to it in the radio! Figured we could have our own little at home date and just enjoy it from the radio, whatdya say?” You asked with a hopeful smile, and he loved the way you always managed to find the positives in even the worst situations. “Sounds good to me if it’s good with you darlin’” he said, pulling you in by the hip to give you a quick, soft kiss. You smiled into it before swatting his hands as he tried to distract you from cooking by letting his hands wander. “Now now, after super, mister. Besides, I worked hard on this pot roast! I’d be cross if it went cold!” You said, making him laugh. He loved your attitude and dedication to your craft, it was just a few of the many things he loved about you truly. As a man fresh from divorce, you sure knew how to make him feel like a brand new man.
He helped you in setting everything out in the table, carrying the pot of mashed potatoes, and the gravy as you made it very clear you needed to place down the pot roast. “Everythin’ smells delicious sweet pea” he said, making you smile proudly as you set down the roast on a mitt to keep the wooden table safe from warping from the heat of the roast pan. “Mmm-MM! Damn honey, looks about as good as you” he said suavely, coming back with two glasses and a bottle of your favorite wine. “Picked this up on the way home as an apology for date night AND!” He said before excitedly going and grabbing flowers from his bag to present you with. You gasped as you saw the beautiful assortment of roses he got you, covering your mouth with your hand as you took them. “Coop! Awww, honey ya shouldn’t have!” You said, hugging him for them and the wine before he found a vase for you to put them in. “They’re gorgeous! Oh gosh you spoil me” you said, making him laugh as he held you close once taking them from your hold so he could be the center of your attention at that moment. “Anything for you honey, it’s the least I could do. Besides, you deserve a man who treats ya like I’m still trynna win ya over, an’ I’m always gonna do that” he said, smiling down at you before kissing you once more. “Well, you are certainly forgiven. Especially now” you said playfully, both of you chuckling amongst each other as he swayed you back and forth to the music. “Alright, c’mon lover boy. Let’s eat ‘fore it gets cold, yeah?” You asked with a smile before moving to sit your self-designated seats at the dinner table, smiling as you popped open the bottle of wine to pour you both a glass after helping yourself to a plate full. He gave a hum in delight at the first taste of your cooking, making you giggle as you cut into your roast before taking a bite. “You are truly a god send. How you make the most delicious food, delicious desserts, I made out” he said, making you giggle once more, a well cooked carrot on the tip of your fork. “What can I say? Mama raised a good one. She really wanted me to get married and give her some grand babies, so had a kick ass teacher” you replied, popping the carrot into your mouth once you’d finished talking with a grin stretched to your pretty lips. “Imma have to thank her myself again when I see her next then, because you are a god damn angel” he said, making you laugh as he continued to compliment you and shout pleased expletives as your delicious home cooked meal.
Once you’d both finished up with dinner, the dishes quickly found their way into the dishwasher and it wasn’t long before you both were slow dancing in your shared kitchen. You smiled up at him as the song that played when you two met, then when you first got together, and on your first date began to play. What luck it was that it would end up playing!
How lucky can one guy be?
I kissed her and she kissed me.
Like the fella once said,
“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
You smiled and giggled as you both swayed to the upbeat song, listening to the singer who did a mighty fine impression of Dean Martin in your opinion. You watched as Cooper happily began singing along, making all sorts of funny faces as he got into it, loving the way it always made you smile.
The room was completely black.
I hugged her and she hugged back.
Like the sailor said, quote,
“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”
My head keeps spinning.
I go to sleep and keep grinning.
If this is just the beginning,
My life is gonna be beautiful.
You started to sing along with him, unable to deny just the purely happy energy almost radiating from him, as if he was singing this song and singing it about you. Your smile stretched so wide it almost hurt your cheeks, seeing those cute little dimples that rested in his when he was truly and genuinely happy.
I’ve got sunshine enough to spread.
It’s just like the fella said,
“Tell me quick: ain’t love a kick in the head?”
Like the fella once said,
“Ain’t that a kick in the head?”
Like the sailor said, quote,
“Ain’t that a hole in the boat?”
My head keeps spinning.
I go to sleep and keep grinning.
If this is just the beginning,
My life is gonna be beautiful.
She’s telling me we’ll be wed.
She’s picked out a king-size bed.
I couldn’t feel any better or I’d be sick.
Tell me quick, oh, ain’t love a kick?
Tell me quick, ain’t love a kick in the head?
He smiled as he swayed you back and forth, looking at you and singing to you before twirling you in front of him, watching the skirt of your dress billow out around you as you spun. Before the song came to an end, he dipped you, holding you up with an arm resting in the dip of your lower back as your arms looped around his neck. His lips connected with yours, his heart racing as he looked at you, feeling as happy as the upbeat rhythm of the song. Your one hand cradled his cheek as you kissed, passionately and sweetly before he brought you back up. “Reminds me of the day we first met” you said with a happy smile, remembering that day well. You had been in attendance to your best friend’s little girl’s birthday party where they hired Cooper to do his titular cowboy stunts to entertain the children, but over time as the kids talked and played amongst each other, you’d bravely strewn up to him, thanks to enjoying a few martinis before hand. You’d told him how much of a fan you were, and struck up conversation with him by the radio that was playing music that the kids were dancing to and that song so happened to be one of them. You two hit it off enough that you’d actually talked all night, even after the time he was paid to be there for. “Okay you two, my wallet can only handle the great Cooper Howard for so long” your best friend said, making you blush and apologize for holding him up so long. “Say no more ma’am, I’ll get outta your hair. But you, pretty lady, I would love to keep in touch with” he said, and you could have shit your pants as he gave you a napkin with his phone number written on with. You hadn’t expected THE Cooper Howard to actually want to talk to you, let alone become something akin to friends! And yet here you were, living in a nice little house out in the farmlands with him. It was like a dream come true. It was right after that song that played, that another came through the speakers that you enjoyed dancing to. You smiled as you took his hands to lead the dance.
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance, you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
You mouthed the lyrics to the song as you focused on the intimate dance you’d both learned. His hands cascaded down from your arms, down your waist then rested on your hips as you both swayed to the rhythm. A smirk donned his lips as he recalled the first time you both ever danced to this song, as if the chemistry between you was so strong, so natural that the dance hardly even needed to be taught to you.
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway, I go weak
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
Other dancers may be on the floor
Dear, but my eyes will see only you
Only you have that magic technique
When we sway, I go weak
He never failed to steal your heart with the skillful way he would twirl you and dip you deeply to the loud sound of the trumpets reaching the peak at the end of that verse. You smiled up at him as your lips ghosted his, coming so close to brushing against his before pulling you back up to continue the fast paced dance to the song.
I can hear the sounds of violins
Long before it begins
Make me thrill as only you know how
Sway me smooth, sway me now
When marimba rhythms start to play
Dance with me, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
When marimbas start to play
Hold me close, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more
Like a flower bending in the breeze
Bend with me, sway with ease
When we dance, you have a way with me
Stay with me, sway with me
As the song came to its end, he twirled you in front of him, jumping between facing him and having your back turned to him as your feet stepped around one another’s and bodies swayed in tandem together like the fluid motion of water brushing against the sand of a beach. You smiled brightly as he dipped you once more, your arms looped around his neck as you lifted your one leg to rest against his hip, his one hand holding you up and his free one resting along the back of your thigh that rested against him. “Still got it” he said confidently, making you chuckle. “Never doubted that you did” you quipped, enjoying this intimate, peaceful moment together. “I love you, so damn much Y/N” He said as leaned down, making you grin just a little bit wider at his kind, heart spoken words. “I love you so damn much too, Cooper Howard” you said, making him hum at the use of his full name, feeling your fingers brushing his cheek as your eyes flit between his and his lips before pulling him into a more heated, passionate kiss than the ones you shared earlier. With a little wine in both of your systems and having not seen one another since the early hours of the morning, it left you rather caught up in the moment and wanting of one another.
“Before I get too carried away now, I did get ya another gift. Been hangin’ onto it for a while now, and well…it didn’t feel right to give it to ya ‘til now” he said, making you playfully slap his chest at the fact that he fussed enough over you guys missing a concert to get you so many gifts to make up for something so small. “Cooper Howard! You and the gifts, you’re startin’ to make me look like a spoiled princess!” You chewed him out, making him laugh, he knew you hated it when he fussed over you but he just couldn’t help himself. In his eyes you deserved the world, and god damn it would he make sure he could give it to you. “I do it ‘cause I want to, honey. Don’t you worry” he said, making you stand with your hands on your hips giving him a playful glare. “Just close your eyes for me, would ya sugar? And before ya chew me out some more, I think you’ll find that you’re gonna love it” he said sweetly, and of course you did what he asked, ever curious of why he was playing this gift up so much. “If you’re tryin’ to play any moves on me, might I remind you that the kitchen blinds are still open? Don’t need to be givin’ Betty-Sue and her husband Harold a view straight from one of them magazines” you said, making him give a hearty laugh in response. “Well maybe I should close the blinds then, but I got a feelin’ it’ll have you screamin’ in a different kinda way sugar” he replied, and you couldn’t help the blush that tickled to your cheeks. “Well now you got me guessin’” you said, a little anxious now to see what it was he’d gotten for you. “Well then stop guessin’. Open your eyes and find out” he said, and the gasp that left your lips you swore could have been heard from the next house down. “Cooper!!” You yelled loud enough to also likely be heard a few doors over, with tears coming to your eyes as you saw him standing there on one knee, a gorgeous diamond ring resting in the box he had outstretched to you. “Oh my god, Coop…you did not” you said through chuckles and happy tears, making him beam up at you. “I sure did. I’d be doin’ you, myself, and your mama one hell of a disservice if I didn’t put a ring on that gorgeous finger a yours for all the things you done for me. You stuck by me through all the nasty shit in the divorce, you’ve done nothin’ but love and care for little Janey as if she were your own, and by god if you ain’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever gotten the honor of knowin’” he said, making you cover your mouth with your hands as you listened to him. “You got my whole heart Y/N, even when I thought none of it was left, you found it and put it right back together. And that’s a whole hell of a lot more than what this ol’ boy could ever ask for” he said, making you chuckle at him calling himself old when he wasn’t really. “So whatdya say? Will you marry me?” He asked, making you shake your head yes about as vigorously as you could without running the risk of getting whiplash. “Yes! A million times yes. I’ll marry you Coop” you said, making him smile as he picked you up in his arms, twirling you both around in celebratory fashion with shared happy laughter. As he set you down, he kissed you once more before sliding that gorgeous diamond ring on your finger. You smiled as you looked down at it, so overjoyed, so overflown with love you just couldn’t help but kiss him again. “It’s beautiful Cooper, thank you” you said sweetly, making him pull your hand up to his lips as he pressed them to your knuckles. “No, thank you sweetheart. For everything you do for this stubborn son of a gun” he said, making you giggle once more at him before pressing your forehead to his, closing your eyes to enjoy the peaceful quiet in this beautiful, intimate moment together.
“Well shit, I suppose you’ve done and earned the right to dessert now after everything” you said teasingly, breaking the silence and making him whistle excitedly at the prospect of what your words had in store. You yelped in surprise then laughed as he picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your shared bedroom with all the excitement of a couple still in their honeymoon phase. You supposed now it wouldn’t be long until you actually had a honeymoon with him. “Cooper! Good lord! You are just full of it today” you said through laughs as he brought you into the bedroom, grinning as he closed the door behind him with his foot. The poor man just couldn’t get enough of you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it. “Don’t get me wrong I love your cookin’ sugar, but I’d be a lyin’ sack a shit if I said havin’ you for dessert afterwards wasn’t my favorite part” he said, making you laugh as he set you on the soft, king sized bed you two shared. “Well then come get a piece of your future bride then, cowpoke” you said with a smirk, and he ain’t never grinned wider than after hearing those words leave your mouth.
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astraystayyh · 11 months
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Fic recs
some of the fics I've read on here that really left a mark on me. some of them contain smut and i will mark them as such, mdni with those!
the dating experiment | hyunjin x reader. slow burn. fluff. angst. fake dating. @caseiloveu
one of my fav hyunjin fics, the whole setting is so cute and if you love pining you'll love this!
adulthood can wait | jeongin x reader. fluff. reassurance. @inniejeonginnie
the sweetest innie fic. it made me feel very seen and comforted on a topic that makes me anxious!!
wedding cake samples | felix x reader. fluff. @caseiloveu
this was sooo cute. the idea is original too and their relationship was the cutest.
evermore | hyunjin x reader. non idol!au, slow burn. barista hyunjin. fluff. smut. @staytheword
one of the first hyunjin fics i read on here but i still remember it!! it's so well written and their relationship is so soft :(
nothing, everything | han x reader. angst. comfort. @inniejeonginnie
the softest han comfort. truly felt like drinking warm tea on a cold day.
jealousy, jealousy! | series of ot8 x reader where the boys/reader are jealous. some of them have smut. @candlewaxandp0lar0ids
i remember i read all the 8 parts of this series in one go, i loved how it was written and how natural it flowed!
royal guard!minho x princess!reader | fluff, angst, light smut @leviackermanscleaningbuddy
i love royal aus and this was amaaaazing!!!!! loved LOVED the tension that comes with forbidden love
better left unsaid | minho x reader. angst. @felixore
i read this so long ago but i remember thinking THIS IS REAL ANGST. loved it
eighteen | best friend seungmin x reader. university au. slow burn. fluff. angst @soobnny
ONE OF THE BEST seungmin fic on this app!! read this at 3am and i couldn't pause it because it got me hooked LOVED it sm!!!!!
the things we define as love | seungmin x reader. university au. strangers to lovers. fluff @soobnny
another AMAZING seungmin fic (you're the best seungmin writer on here), i remember reading it and thinking this is pure poetry
in between | jeongin x reader. angst. fluff. mutual pining. @inniejeonginnie
the perfect combination of angst and fluff that makes you want to reach inside your phone to make the characters CONFESS
what I'm looking for | seungmin x reader. strangers to lovers. hidden identity (escaping from a marriage). fluff. hurt/comfort. @rachalixie
reading this felt like finding shelter on a stormy day. i loved it so much. seungmin brainrot that's all i have to say.
butterfly bandage | bang chan x reader. uni au. fluff. angst. smut. @subskz
one of the best written pieces I've ever read, truly. this series amazes me and i don't want it to end. so so beautifully written.
the enemies to lovers project | minho x reader. enemies to lovers. uni au. slight angst. fluff. @softukiyos
I LOVED THIS SMM. the progress of their relationship felt so real and the idea is so original too. such a delight to read.
bunny | neighbor minho x reader. strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut. @tasteleeknow
such a comforting read!!! i loved the way minho was portrayed as the gentlest man to exist. which he is!!!!!
everything and no one | minho x reader. maidservant!reader x prince!minho. forbidden love. smut. @tasteleeknow
one of my favorite written pieces as well. the soap detail really stuck with me and the progress was so beautiful, wish i could read it for the first time again.
red | chan x reader. fluff. angst with a happy ending. @rachalixie
this was a poetic trip through Taylor's song red. loved LOVED the way it was written and the symbolic of the color red.
i didn't accidentally love you | hyunjin x reader. fluff. uni au. @amelee23
poetry club and poetic writing. one of the cutest hyunjin fics ever that made me giggle so hard.
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yuri-is-online · 5 months
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And Your Name Is? (Deuce, Azul, and Floyd)
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After successfully resolving whatever was causing NRC to be trapped in an endless time loop of overblotting and disaster, one last reset should give him a chance to experience a normal school year with you. But instead you find yourself trapped in the here and there, appearing as a vague shadow around the school that vanishes as soon as he catches up to you. The kind thing to do would be to allow you to be forgotten in the chance it lets you return to your world.
But this is Twisted Wonderland where the kind thing is seldom done, and he wants you back as much as you want to find him again.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, we are back in business bby, these three are by request, next up are Lilia, Jamil, and Grim! Angst with the intent of comfort, if you like this please consider checking out my masterlist for the previous three parts.
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Deuce
"Don't go where I can't follow."
Deuce has said that many times before.  He wonders if you thought he didn't mean it or had taken it as a joke, and truly he cannot decide which is worse. He had foolishly thought when he first woke up and saw the school year begin anew that he could relax knowing he wouldn't need to chase you across an ocean into the depths of S.T.Y.X. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy, his memories of you might have been scattered across time and space but he knew with certainty this set back did not surprise him.
"Are you alright?" Trey's concern does not go unappreciated, but Deuce can't really bring himself to respond out loud. "You seem a bit distracted." There are countless wishing stars hung above him in the trees, he wishes he remembered if any of the wishes he heard had been the same. He knows his no longer is.
"Let him be." Idia surprisingly in the flesh, but still draped like a wet cat over the drums. "We can afford to take a break anyway." His seniors move away as Deuce remains staring up at the wishing stars. Yuu is sort of the same color as them now, and just as ephemeral.
"Do you remember this?" The starsender robes don't feel as special anymore, he wants to be proud that he was really meant for this task seeing how time itself has seen fit to make him repeat it. "I only remembered to ask you what your wish was after... I think you passed it off as me being dumb but I don't think that's what happened now. Somehow I knew if I asked you to make a wish what you would say." A gentle breeze sways the little lights above his head as Deuce tries to spot the star Trey had helped him make. "I meant what I said, I want you to see just how cool I'll look in my officer's uniform. I want to make my mom and grandma proud, and I want you to come home and be proud of me with them." Sometimes he swears he can feel your head leaning on his shoulder, your arms embracing him from behind, your voice carried by the breeze drowning out shouts for him to come back to reality and pay attention to his surroundings. There's a legend in Twisted Wonderland about a man that dives into the Underworld to rescue his beloved, you had told him your world has the same story but it has a different ending. Deuce doesn't want to think about that as his hands curl around where yours should be, just over his rapidly beating heart. "I wish," he already has but he swears the star twinkles with magic in response all the same "for Yuu to come home." He squeezes your hand and jumps when he finds purchase, your weight forcing him to stumble forward and crash as he rapidly tries to turn and see your face.
Idia and Trey make noises of surprise, he thinks that they're talking but he can't seem to hear them above the sound of your heavy breaths. "I'm back Deucey." You whisper softly into the evening air.
"Welcome back Yuu." He hopes you never make him let you go again.
Azul
There is a mournful song flowing through this strange cold place you have found yourself. It's familiar, but you swear you have never heard it before, perhaps it is the voice you find yourself stumbling towards and not the music itself.
"There you are." It's pleased with itself this voice. "Come to spend some time with me again?" You don't know, you can't even really tell where you are. It looks like an office, but it is bereft of papers or any light. You feel more than see the desk at the center, the smooth grain of the wood chills your fingertips as you run along looking for something. A sigh rattles the room as you are dragged away, back to the mirror chamber by frighteningly cold darkness and you grope wildly around for the person you thought had been there with you. "Goodnight Yuu. I will see you tomorrow."
"Why can't you see me today?" You swear you speak but you hear no noise. And in the solid space you've left behind Azul leans back against his chair and studies the ceiling above him. He should be pleased. He had a theory and the tattered scraps of paper in his hand would seem to have proved it. Azul should be angry that your state demands such a sacrifice of him, he should be weighing the potential cost of this decision. Of saving you.
But instead he laughs.
"Yuu. Yuu, Yuu, Yuu. I wonder if I ever stood a chance." He knows the answer of course, but he wonders if it is as ingrained in your soul as it is his. ~~~~ "Do you believe in other worlds Yuu?" The voice is asking you a silly question, and you chase after it determined to tease. "And I don't mean like yours, I mean completely other realities where things even mages would find unbelievable exist." You manage to push yourself through the waters and begin to wander the purple and grey hued halls, desperately searching for someone you swear is here, his name on the tip of your tongue. "I admit it's not something I ever thought too much about, but after we got together the first time I would lie awake thinking about it. You and I meeting was never a guarantee, so why did it feel so much like fate? I think I asked you once."
"Don't underestimate me." You can hear yourself now, and the walls around you are coming into more solid focus. There is only one door between you and the person you have been searching for now. "I will find you in every lifetime." Delighted laughter moves towards you now, as the door opens to reveal the outline of a man, shimmering just like you.
"Yes that's exactly what you said." His hand is cold, you reach to catch it worried it will fall through you and almost sob as you both find the familiar sensation of the other's touch. "And I think I said, 'Well that's not threatening at all!' Because in my mind there was no other way for us to meet than as adversaries, but that didn't need to be true did it?" Azul's coat and scarf is slung over the back of his chair, your breath catches in your throat at the unusual sight of Azul in just his tuxedo. He preens under your attention, guiding you carefully towards the couch, hands trembling in equal relief, excitement, and still small fear that this was all a painful dream. The shredded remnants of carefully counted contracts can remain scattered across the desk behind you, yet he finds himself surprisingly unconcerned. He curls himself around you, sighing in content at the return of the warmth of your solid form. "I found you this time." You return his embrace with a half sob, the memory of the here and there cementing itself within your fears alongside the sheer relief of Azul's presence. "If other worlds do exist, if time gets re-set again, even if you are forced to return to where you came from, please don't underestimate me either. We found each other once, and we will in every timeline we exist." He kisses your hand and dares reality to prove him wrong.
Floyd
"Man every day's a party when I'm with you. I can't get enough!" He had really meant it, but he could see the doubts still flickering behind that smile.
"Glad you had fun Floyd."
Had. You were glad he "had" fun not "was having." It was an odd thing to get caught up on, Floyd didn't fully understand why it soured his mood so much himself. There was always this carefully crafted barrier between the two of you, carefully built up by you that he never noticed until it was too late. Until little shrimpy was just Yuu and the nickname became a facade to deny the depth of his emotions.
It was silly to think that he was the only one lying to himself.
"Y'know you can't stay all ghostie like that forever." He tries to poke you, disappointed in how you shimmery form neither disappears nor wavers. "It's not good for your health." Floyd has never had the smoothest of emotions, they tumble around his chest like waves, but he knows them to be consistent. He hates standing in place and doing the same thing over and over, he loves it when people make stupid mistakes and he gets to watch them blow up (sometimes literally) in their face, and he hates how predictable he has been. The jumbled memory of countless looping timelines and never once did he do anything more than maybe chase you around a little and come up with excuses to monopolize your attention. Floyd wants to squeeze himself, that's what this entire situation already feels like anyway. "Say do you know what humans used to say about merfolk?" His mood twitches back to something like happiness as he rolls his head up from lying on the library table up onto his hands. "They thought that when we died we turned into sea foam cause we didn't have souls. Isn't that silly! Say Yuu, which one of us looks like foam now huh?" Floyd hasn't cried since he was a fry, but these past few days he feels like he has done little but cry and sleep. In his dreams he gets to re-write his impossible memories to be a little lighter, he gets to drop the nickname and call out to you and have you cry out to him in return. In his dreams everyday is still a party and not a waking nightmare. Your hand, or maybe he is delusional and has begun to dream yet again, reaches towards him, fighting its foamy nature to try and touch his head.
"I like you." He had said it into your neck while you died that time, still lying to save himself some face in case that was the last thing you wanted to hear. "C'mon dance with me Yuu!" He had tried hyping himself up in his head, all words dying in his throat when he finally spun you away from Crabby and Mackerel calling you shrimpy once again.
"I love you." Why is he only brave enough to say it now when he swears it won't actually matter? "I think I've loved you since the first time ya tricked Azul and then immediately every time I saw you after. So come back yeah? I thought I had all the time in the world but I don't, and I ain't ever gonna be board of having you around..." The foam flickers, and for a brief delusional moment Floyd thinks he sees your proper face. "You know that, right?"
"I love you too." It's watery, he feels the answer somewhere in his soul rather than hears it as you crash under your own weight back into reality and onto the hard wood of the NRC library. His laughter cackles up and out across the whole school as he leaps across and over to catch you up and soothe your bruises with soft kisses, not at all the activity Jade expects to find him engaged in when he follows rather than flees at the noise.
"Mine." He kisses your pulse point and you wonder, not for the first time but with much more joy than sorrow, why it was his hand you were searching for. "My Yuu." Floyd purrs, a dangerous tittering laugh of genuine relief convincing you of his genuineness more than anything else.
If he was going to get bored of you, he would have done it timelines ago.
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alienwithaguitar · 2 months
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Does anyone else think this Wilbur thing has been blown way out of proportion? First of all, I am in FULL support of Shelby and am not defending Wilbur. As a victim myself, I sympathize with her story, and I will never discredit her experiences. But this community is going to extremes that make me so fucking uncomfortable.
What people forget is that Wilbur has a record label. He CAN'T say whatever he wants. There’s a reason he made a statement not an apology, why Lovejoy hasn’t said anything, why he never mentioned Shelby by name, why he didn’t apologize- because making promises can get you in legal trouble. One of the first things you learn about car accidents is to not apologize, even if it's your fault, because that will be used against you in court. Admissions can even get you in trouble for things you didn’t do, if the other party decides to push for that. He’s almost certainly not allowed to apologize because his record label can't risk the legal trouble. We can excuse Quackity for making poor statements for the same reason, so why can't we keep that energy here?
Wilbur has always been an unstable man. As a long time fan and someone who heavily relates to YCGMA’s themes of being awful and feeling like you’ll never get better, he struggles with a lot of mental problems. His persona has been built around manic, destructive tendencies and that’s something that’s been a part of his brand for YEARS. He's brought up drugs and alcohol use in the past, and one of his closest friends recently passed away, which certainly only added to things. Mental health isn't an excuse, but it is a REASON. (Listen to Mammalian Sighing Reflex and tell me it doesn’t resemble compilations of artists deteriorating as they lose their sanity)
I don’t understand how anyone can actively want him to kill himself. Or wish that he gets worse. You can’t claim to be an advocate for mental health and helping victims if you don’t want EVERYONE involved getting serious help. Wilbur needs therapy, he needs to atone if either of them want to heal. Nobody has to forgive him, or welcome him back into their life, but he absolutely deserves the chance to fix himself to ensure this doesn’t happen AGAIN. 
If you can seriously say that you want him to get worse, and you don’t care about his mental health, then you DON'T care about victims. Leaving a destructive man to rot alone WILL lead to repeat events in the future. As someone with multiple diagnoses for debilitating mental illnesses, when I was at my lowest, I hurt myself. I hurt other people. Mental illness isn’t cute shit you put in your bio. It's terrifying, isolating, exhausting. And if I wasn’t given a chance at therapy and healing, I could have continued hurting people for the rest of my life.
These tweets just confirm none of you actually care about mentally ill people, it's all situational and performative. This is the most clear cry for help I've seen and you're feeding into it. Most of you will never understand what debilitating mental illness is like, how easy it is to hurt people you care about. You can hate him, be pissed, wish he never did it, deplatform him, I AM TOO! But nobody involved would be happy if he killed himself. These are real people, not characters in a soap drama. Actively wishing for him to kill himself is disgusting. If you care at all about Shelby getting closure, Wilbur needs to understand what he did wrong and fix it, so she can move on.
Also the lying I’ve seen is so stupid. The spotify stuff is fake. Anyone who’s a casual fan of Wilbur has known for a long time that’s not his spotify account. It’s a fan account that posts unofficial versions of his songs. So easily debunked and yet people still hold it against him??
Again, I'm in FULL support of Shelby. I fully condemn his actions, and as a victim I'm so proud of her for speaking up. But at the end of the day, we’re people. I'm glad many of you have never had the kind of debilitating downward spiral that leads to you hurting yourself and others, but if you think that makes it okay to wish an unstable man takes his life, then you can’t say you’re a mental health advocate. Take care of yourselves, please think twice about your own morals if you're sitting around hoping fans and creators commit suicide.
If you are one of the people actively waiting for him to kill himself, I pray that you never find yourself hurting others at your lowest, and I pray that people show you the kindness you didn't give to him.
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thecherrytarot · 1 year
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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭.
how will they heal you?
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pile 1 → pile 2 → pile 3
Pick the photo you feel the most drawn to and please remember that this is a general reading so take what resonates!! 
listen to: love me like that by Sam Kim
𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟏:
"you see the world in colours i view it black and white. paint me a picture, out of the lines that i live in all of the time"
They will heal you by letting you shine in your feminine energy, regardless of your gender. With them, you feel in touch with your divine feminine energy and your creative side will shine. They will help you gain strength and for some of you, it could even mean that they give you the strength and confidence to be vulnerable and show emotions. You no longer have to pretend that you are some cold-hearted person that isn't affected by anything. I just saw someone crying alone and then heard a voice say "It is okay, let it out, I am here with you" so take however that resonates. They will help you by showing you the world through a new and better perspective. You will stop looking at life through illusions and negative ways. I feel like in some way or the other they will remind you of your past self, the one that you had to leave behind in order to move forward. They will bring that version of you back and make you believe in a 'magical world' once again.
𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟐:
"sunshine left today, got caught in the rain, all alone. can you come and pick me up from my blues? or am I late to ask you?"
This might be someone who is a foreigner and/or a long distance and for some of you, you might meet them when studying abroad (either you or them also could be both) I keep thinking about the movie "Like Crazy" where an American guy falls in love with a British student but yours is with a much happier ending. They will heal you by being there for you, life will feel less complicated and you will feel like all that you have been through was worth and now no matter what happens you will rise because now you have someone that has your back. You will get out of your bubble with them and be more sociable and childlike (i keep imaging a bunch of friends driving in a car late at night, listening to indie/alt songs and singing out loud, laughing and having the time of their lives) also instead of how will they heal, I'm getting the message of the connection feels like. There will be a strong psychic connection between you and them, the moment your eyes meet you will know and they will know that this is the "warmth" that you both have been searching for. Like when Lana Del Rey said it in her poem called The land of 1,000 fires, "I have never really fallen in love but whatever this feeling is i wish everyone could experience it."
𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝟑:
(this pile has a similar message to pile 1, so make sure to check it out in case you felt drawn to it)
"i get defensive and insecure my own worst critic behind a closing door, i'm fragile and fractured, that's for sure, i burned myself down to the ground. oh, can I ask of you to treat me soft and tender, love me hard and true? keep my heart from building walls so high, you can't get through, treat me soft and tender"
They will heal you by helping you love yourself and how you need to give importance to yourself first and that too in a healing manner instead of selfish (your old pattern) You might have thought that you knew how to take care of yourself by prioritizing yourself but still found yourself being stuck in the same old negative cycles, they will help you understand the true and the raw meaning of self-love. They help you by providing the stability that you always desired. I feel like a lot of you were abandoned in the past and after that, you put your guard up and pushed people away from you but then you come across them, and it takes you by surprise because you didn't expect to catch feelings for someone so fast. You found yourself in a dilemma because you have such strong feelings for them and yet, you feel afraid cause you don't want them to abandon you. Don't worry, they will help you get out of your old and no longer-needed mindset of resisting the change that you know will set you free.
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