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saleeba · 10 months ago

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the baby-making manual ; william saliba

summary ♡ baby fever hits the salibas full force.

pairing ♡ william saliba x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, husband!william, kissing, p in v sex, cunnilingus, reader & wilo are so broody & so in love with each other, missionary, doggystyle, riding, lotus position (yes i’m fucking depraved don’t look at me like that 🤕), soft romantic vibes, breeding kink, praise, body worship, size kink ofccc, clitoral stimulation, titplay, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it unless ur name is y/n and ur starring in this fic 🥸), creampie(s), a smidgen of cockwarming, blink and u miss the one french word in here, talks about having kids, aftercare included !!

a/n ♡ the title is so goofy & nobody asked for this but the concept has been eating at my mind since the end of summer + i've had this in the drafts since oct so i gotta put me first lucius 😫😩😫😩😫 anyway this is day one of converting you all into wilo girlies hehe WAKE UP WORLD‼️ pls lmk how u all find this fic btw!! ik it won’t get as much attention as my jude ones bc there prob aren’t as many fans but i rlly would appreciate anything u have to say about it !!! 🫶🏽🥰 enjoyyyy mes chéris!! 😌❤️

an unexpectedly warm spring’s saturday had given cause to an impromptu barbecue held by your parents, and you and william had found yourselves in the company of most of your relatives for the day. how your mother had convinced half the family tree to be present on such short notice you will never know but you were grateful nonetheless, extremely happy to especially see the loved ones you haven’t seen since getting married to your now-husband a couple of years ago.

it’s close to eleven in the night now, your arrival at home being so belated due to the clash between your insistence that you and william had to go home as he had training the next morning and your father’s greater insistence that the two of you stay a little longer for another cup of tea, another plate of food, even the whole night if you wanted to. in the end, you had to put a politely firm foot down, more for william’s sake who can’t say no to your parents for the life of him, and who was on his way to accepting your dad’s invitation to stay the night before you spoke up. you knew the events of last night would repeat for the morning, your parents in a tug-of-war with you to make you guys stay for breakfast but you supported your case with the argument of the long drive home and the fact that mikel wouldn’t appreciate william’s tardiness the next day, especially at such a significant time in the season.

you’re sitting in bed by yourself right now with a novel in hand – william having gone to take a much-needed relaxing shower – inwardly laughing to yourself over your husband’s people-pleasing antics and your mind meanders to the scenes of this afternoon, the sounds of children’s laughter and adults’ gossip in the air accompanied with the smokey scent of grilled food taking over your senses. you reencounter images of william chasing your little cousins, nieces and nephews around the garden — small, sweet giggles mixed with william’s deeper chuckles as they’re all engaged in an exhilarating game of tag, little feet and large padding around the property.

your thoughts are pulled back into reality when the ensuite door clicks open, a cloud of steam puffing into the bedroom before it reveals your husband clad in nothing but a white towel around his waist, droplets of water dotted on his toned chest and abdomen. it’s a sheer sight for sore eyes and one that you will never tire of so you shamelessly watch as he smiles at you before gliding across the room, moving to his vanity to apply generous amounts of body lotion to bring back moisture to his skin, the action making his skin glow so prettily under the warm lighting of the bedroom.

it’s these moments of silent appreciation that have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the universe; an adonis of a lover in your bedroom, one that would move heaven and earth at your beck and call, and there’s denying that you would do the same for him.

in all your daydreaming, william’s moved on to pulling his pajamas on for bedtime, a pair of dark grey boxer shorts acting as said pajamas as he opts to go shirtless in fear of overheating on such a toasty night. you place your novel down, the previously read page distinguished with a bookmark, as william places a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking you both in under the thin sheets.

“mum was really bad with the baby talk this time, wasn’t she?” you turn your body on its spot, head propped up by a bend of your arm as you face william who lifts his head at your rhetoric question. “i mean, you did look so fucking adorable with the kids today so i don’t know if i should say sorry on her behalf.”

“not at all,” he only lets out a breathy laugh, now mirroring you in the shift of his own body. “i’ve had most people asking me about it now.”

“really?”

you’re quite shocked to learn that there are indeed a lot of people who are eager to see william and yourself have a family of your own and that it’s not just pestering from your mother in particular, who has asked about when she will be seeing grandchildren from her daughter and “favourite son-in-law” from the moment the two of you had just about exchanged rings. you’ve grown accustomed to answering with the same old ‘we want to focus on us/our careers/our freedom’ response but there’s a little curious something that’s pulling the two of you to consider everyone’s requests.

“mmhm, i think i could count the number of people at the club that have asked me about it using my hands and my feet,” the pair of you laugh at this, a shake of your head over how believable that comment is despite it sounding so silly since the environment of your husband’s workplace is so close-knit and everyone is comfortable with each other. “it’s not just that, though, is it?”

“no?” you question his tone turned serious now.

“when i see the guys and their kids, i can’t help wondering what i might be like in those sorts of situations, y’know?” you sit up at his words, heart racing a little faster with the way he looks at you; looks into you as he again copies your movements, taking your hands in his after leaning his shoulder against the headboard. “can’t help wondering what it would be like seeing you and a mini version of us in the stands during a match… wanna see our baby matching shirts with their papa, wanna hear their tiny voice cheer my name…”

you swear you feel your heart stop as soon as his lips form the words ‘our baby’.

“oh, william,” you sigh over his thoughts spoken aloud, a slight pang of guilt hitting at your heartstrings and causing your eyes to tear up just a little. “why didn’t you tell me about all this, hm?”

you had no idea of his desire to have children, always assuming his response to everyone’s questions to be the same as yours and believing that he wanted to prioritise football over starting a family with you for at least a couple more years.

“it’s not your fault, sweetheart, not at all.” his fingers swipe under your eyes in precaution against any spilt tears. “having a baby, hell, even wanting a baby... it’s a big deal; it’s hard to just drop it into a conversation if that makes sense.”

“of course, that makes plenty of sense,” his hands grip yours in a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the slightly trembling digits in an attempt to soothe you. “you really want to have a baby with me?”

william laughs softly at your words and the way you sit with your mouth gaping, starry-eyed with a million thoughts racing through your mind.

“no, i want to have a baby with mrs khan next door.” he deadpans, referring to your elderly neighbour, before you shove at his shoulder, a blush overcoming your cheeks as you realise how daft your question is, disbelief over how much william wants to be a dad seeping into the way you’re thinking right now. “you’re the only woman that i want as the mother of my children, y/n, the only one.”

his eyes look even more beautiful in the peek of moonlight through the curtains and you fear your heart may give out tonight, squeezing so hard in your chest with the love that you feel for your husband.

“can i kiss you, baby?” he asks so politely, thumb running over the plumpness of your bottom lip. even after so many years together, he’s always the gentleman but still, you tell him that he doesn’t need to ask anymore — you are his to have as he is yours.

his lips descend upon yours with a gentle force, hands clasping over your waist where the black silk material of your short nightdress stops him from touching the warmth of your soft skin. instead, william decides to pick you up and place you on his lap, the urge to feel your body as close to his as possible controlling his actions, your knees dropping to either side of him as your clothed chest meets his bare one.

as the kiss deepens on what seems like its own accord, you feel yourself growing wetter, thankful for your earlier decision to forgo underwear for the night as you grind down onto william’s lap, the cotton of his boxers creating delicious friction on where you need it the most.

breathless sighs turn into light moans from the two of you as william tightens his grip on your waist with the same strength your core presses down onto his hardening length before he turns you both over to have you on your back, his form hovering over yours, lips ghosting over the nook where your neck meets your shoulders, leaving an eruption of goosebumps in its trail.

in the pleasured shutting of your eyes, you can feel william’s hands pull down the loose straps of your nightdress, then a kiss on each shoulder and then the heat of his breath over your exposed breasts.

“so beautiful, darling,” he looks up to your blushing face, the compliment painting a shy smile on it before his lips wrap around your left nipple with wasting any time. a whine is pulled from your lungs over the way william suckles on the nub, a tiny tug of it between his teeth causing you to arch your chest further into his mouth. of course, he doesn’t forget to pay attention to your right boob, taking his sweet time in kissing and swirling his tongue around the stiffness of the other side. “how did i get so lucky, hmm?”

you whimper in response as he brushes his lips down your body over your nightdress; from under your breasts, over your navel and arriving at the base of your tummy, where he places the firmest kiss of them all atop of the lustrous material.

“william…”

“gonna take care of you, baby, i promise.”

his hands now come down to your thighs, where the inner parts are sticky with arousal, and he hoists the hem of your dress up past your bellybutton, the pressing together of your legs to soothe the ache of your core as a light breeze hits it inciting your husband to part them and find home in the self-made gap. his head lowers to where your pussy lays nearly leaking onto the sheets and your breaths quicken, reaching an all-time rapid high when william plants a kiss on your clit, one so soft that it would’ve been deemed innocent had it not been in the midst of an action so filthy.

in the ‘o’-shapedness of your mouth, amorous sighs escape as he starts his attack on your wetness — mouth open, tongue out, lapping at your juices as you sing his praises in the form of high-pitched moans. his tongue slips past your drenched folds to find your sopping hole, the tip of it poking past your entrance as he’s full-on eating you out now, open-mouthed moans from the simple pleasure of your pussy on his lips almost drowning out your sounds.

there’s a particularly lusty moan from you when his thumb finds your tense clit, a couple of rubs on it releasing a string of cries out of the confines of your lips as your legs tremble from their position on his shoulders. from the very beginning of your married life, william had made it his mission to become well-acquainted with you in the bedroom, and you think he’s succeeded as the way he knows which buttons to press to get you to cum at his mercy is very telling, fingers working expertly in toying with your sensitive nub as your walls clench around nothing but the conjured-up image of cumming all over his mouth and pretty face.

“william… i-” you start but are soon interrupted by the intense sucking of your already pounding clit between his moistened lips. the wail you let leave your body is almost pitiful, the feeling so fucking good but so sudden and unexpected that you fall head-first into your orgasm, crashing into it with a spasm of your thighs around william’s head, pawing at his dark hair for some inkling of relief and grounding since you truly believe you’re about to lose all sense of reality with how strong this orgasm has hit you.

william doesn’t relent despite your convulsions, placing kisses over your clenching pussy and shaky abdomen. you manage to still your involuntary motions to catch a glimpse of his face in all its glory; his lips glistening wet with your release and his eyes darker than ever, impossible to distinguish the colour of his pupils from the colour of his irises, an unfolding plan of what’s to come for you both behind his soft gaze.

“did so, so good for me, my love,” he praises, kissing you through panting breaths from the both of you. “want to feel you around me, fuck, need to feel you around me, baby.”

you go to deny him at first, nestling your hand against the bulge of his boxers but he’s quick to deny you in turn.

“no, baby, tonight’s for you, ok? just wanna take care of everything— take care of you.”

you nod in acceptance, knowing that arguing with him would be futile, a gentle flame in his eyes telling you of his determination to do nothing but be at your service until the sun comes up.

“how do you want me first, amour?”

you almost swoon at the question, unable to believe that you essentially have this man at your mercy now, getting dizzy over choosing whether you want to ride him into oblivion first or save that for later and have him take you from behind to start with. either way, you know that tonight was no night for a meagre one round.

“how about as we are right now?” you suggest, the current arrangement of you on your back and william on top proving perfectly convenient for you guys to start with your favourite position in bed.

“sounds perfect, baby,” he smiles before getting up to rid his body of those grey boxers and then almost leaning over you to pull a condom from the nightstand before he stops himself midway, the both of you realising that this is a habit that will need to be unlearnt now. a pair of giggles erupts between you and a silent agreement to forget the condom for the whole purpose of tonight is sealed with a rerouted kiss from william. he then prompts you to lift your hips so he can slot a pillow underneath them and have you as comfortable as you can get. you can’t resist biting your bottom lip at the pulsating anticipation between the two of you, the sight of his bare cock admittedly making your mouth water.

now back on the bed and parting your legs, william resituates himself in between, this time with his cock in his hand running down your increasingly dripping slit, the occasional dip past your folds making you wince in an addictive combination of overstimulation and urgency.

“shit, angel, i’m sorry,” his apology is sincere as he searches your eyes for signs of discomfort. “we don’t have to do this right now, we can take a break, do you want me to ge–”

“babe, i’m fine, okay?” you huff out a laugh, your husband’s honestly innocent face tickling your tummy and making your core ache even more. “j-just fuck me, will, please?”

his answer comes in the guise of an assured smooch against your swollen lips, taking the quiet opportunity to sink into your wetness, completely raw for the first time, with a loud deep groan that makes your stomach feel like it’s gloriously folding in on itself. you revel in finally having the naked thickness of his cock inside you, experiencing every ridge, vein and inch of smoothness directly between your gummy walls with a hushed fuck before he gets to work on setting a moderate pace — slow and savouring it seems, his way of saying that he wants this to last as long as it possibly can.

"william… so big..." no matter how many times you've been under him and how many times you say it, it will always ring true; the initial stretch and burn that his cock creates for you will always light a fire of delicious friction, tonight being a million times more special than every previous encounter put together. and no matter how many times william hears it, it will always set his mind ablaze, hips now pistoning at an unfathomable speed as he can’t hold back anymore, moaning and groaning about how good you feel uninterrupted around him, how there'll be no one else for him, how you're everything to him. it all has your pussy gushing around him to no end.

your whimpers warn him of another impending orgasm, the tightening clasp of your cunt and the way you’re clawing at the softness of his lower tummy in sheer desperation make william’s movements falter just the slightest, a whine leaving his throat as he can feel his own climax catching up to him.

“close, baby,” he warns in sentences incomplete, brain whirring on pure pleasure and nothing else but the desire to have you cumming around him. he’s afraid that he may finish a fraction too soon and leave you disappointed so his fingers find your stiffened clit again, the caressing of his thumb a little harsher this time around as part of an effort to get you both to cum at the same time.

the pleasure you’re receiving from the touch of his thumb and the stroke of his dick is almost too much, hands willing their way to pull his off of you but the speed at which your second orgasm hits you beats any other competition to the finish line, pussy barely squeezing to trigger william’s first orgasm of the night; your lover climaxes inside of you with a sound so guttural, it has him almost collapsing against your shaking form but you invite him to do so, a tender hand on the back of his head guiding him to a safe haven in the crook of your neck as the strangely comforting feeling of thick, white liquid streams down your inner thighs. heavy breaths saturate the dimly lit room as you lay with your lover for a moment, warm bodies basking in the aftermath of a shared orgasm.

after a comfortable minute or two, william speaks up, his voice dropped to an octave so deep it relights the fire in your seeping cunt before your head can even process his words.

“how does round two sound to you?” he’s asking amidst the plotting of a few kisses up your jawline.

you’re ready to jump his bones again on your own accord so when you hear the request fall from your husband’s lips, it’s an immediate “yes please” from you, not even bothered to feel shameful about the reeking desperation of your response.

a knowing chuckle and another kiss seal the deal, william pulling your now-creased nightdress over your outstretched arms, leaving you completely bare but free; accessible to his every touch. he asks you to turn around onto your hands and knees, setting the pillow down underneath your lower abdomen as a precaution.

“there we go, angel,” he places a tender kiss at the bottom of your spine, running a hand up the natural curve of your back while you anticipate his next action. “gonna make my pretty girl feel so good tonight, she deserves it all.” your thighs divide instinctively in response to his voice and the sight of his cum glistening on your skin has william choking on a moan, needing to stroke his cock on the white-stained slipperiness.

“william, don’t tease,” you beg with a shake of your ass against his crotch to get him to hurry and slip his length inside of you. “can’t wait anymore.”

your husband obliges immediately, having lubricated his dick enough with his own release off your thighs, pushing into your hole with so much more ease and a filthy squelch as the realisation that the majority of his cum from the previous round is still inside of you hits him. oh, it sends william’s entire being into a lustful frenzy.

“f-fuck, baby, listen to how well i filled you up,” he gasps out, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as the dirtiest noises he has ever heard emits from where his cock is connected to your pussy.

you’ve done this position more times than you can count but the raw state of his dick plus the way it definitely plunges deeper from all the lubrication william has created inside you has you growing wetter beyond belief, another layer of arousal helping him reach damn near a whole new dimension of your cunt. you don’t want to lend your name to porno-fuelled incorrect biology but you swear he’s in your cervix right now, the pillow now playing its part in hoisting your bottom half up, back arching so beautifully, making it the perfect setup for william to split you in half with every thrust of his length.

between a melody of cries of his name from your worn lips and his deeper moans, you surprisingly cum without a word of warning; it’s fast and it’s hard and it’s white-hot, almost launching your body off the bed entirely. it’s not so surprising, actually, given the speed of william’s pounding inside of your creaming pussy and the resulting splat-splat-splat noise his actions make, all of it way too much, way too depraved and addicting to try and avoid.

“good fucking girl,” your husband grunts out at the sensation of yet another round of your pussy walls spasming around him, another round of hot cum spurting into your hole as he fills you up with an animalistic fuck! marking the round so differently from the last one, which was so full of love, this one in a tone that is much more lewd and untamed.

you’re still on all fours, moaning softly at the flood of cum that spills out of you from around william’s dick and onto the sheets below, cunt still clenching his shaft which doesn’t seem to get any softer despite the two of you having been at it for nearly two hours without a break. your husband, sheathed still in your core, runs a series of kisses up your back, reaching the back of your ear to leave praises of how good you were for him just then and how pretty you look while he’s balls deep inside of you. eventually, he pulls out with a throaty moan, leaving you panting as you fall onto your back to look up at his fucked out expression.

william’s standing there with his hands on his hips, chest heaving, face all smiley and flushed, an image not too dissimilar to one where he’s fresh off a victory on the pitch. you wish you could take a picture of the scenery in front of you but you trust your memory to sear it into place for you instead.

“fucking hell, if i’m not pregnant by now then i don’t even know what to say!” you laugh out at the mess you’ve both made of the sheets and yourselves, and william joins in before quipping in with a “hmm, we should make sure, just in case, of course.” a cheeky tone in his voice as he snuggles his mouth against your neck, the hair on his chin tickling your skin as you squirm on the bed out of ecstatic amusement.

“okay, okay, but first we have to take a break, babe!” you manage to squeal out before william ceases his tickle attack on you, letting you go to the bathroom while he fetches a glass of water from the kitchen.

by the time you’re finished and clean, william has the bed remade and the glass of water held out by the hand upon your return to the bedroom. you shake your head at him, bemused at this butler act he’s now performing.

“your refreshment, mrs. saliba,” he mocks what you assume to be a posh british accent, his own french one adding so much charm to it.

“i thank you, mr. y/l/n,” you smirk back and take a sip, careful not to choke as william pushes your shoulder in jest with an oi before sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching you set the empty glass down on the nightstand.

“so, about that making sure thing,” you pounce on his lap within a split second, settling your hands on the warmed skin of his shoulders.

william throws his head back in a hearty chuckle. “fucking hell, what was in that water?!”

“shut up and kiss me, saliba.” you command and he doesn’t dare to do anything but oblige, lips catching yours in a heated kiss that reinstalls all elements of hunger and lust inside of the pair of you. running your hands down and over the expanse of his chest has william parting his lips in a low groan, you taking the opportunity to slip your tongue inside his mouth and swallow all of his sugary sweet sounds, not wanting any ears other than your own to hear them. the resumed grinding of your naked crotch on william’s has him hardening quickly, another order from you to go lay himself down on the pillows moving scenes on as rapidly as you like.

“good boy,” you admire the way he’s displayed himself for you, long athletic body sprawled out in all its glory, the moonlight a little brighter now that the night has really settled in. “you look so good like this, william, fuck, need to have you inside me now, baby.” a couple of tugs on his stiff cock and you’re sliding down onto it, william’s hands – slightly sweaty from excitement – holding you in place as you begin to rock and raise your body.

there’s a harmonised whine from the two of you as you’re filled with his thickness once again, william encased in your snug, plush walls, and the swivel of your hips atop him makes his teeth grit in euphoria. seeing this spurs you on more, momentum picked up from the way william throws his head back, leaving his neck at your mercy and you of course can’t help but nip and kiss and lick over it, the sounds being pulled from his throat so saccharine and tuneful.

he pants out with a vice-like grip on your hips, the skin white with the extreme grasp his fingers have on it. “s-slow, baby, slow…” he pleads while you rock and grind and bump into his crotch like a woman gone mad, chasing a high that is just at the tips of your fingers… just a little more.

you whine out his name, scratching at his chest where you had previously been resting your hands for leverage, and he finds a little leeway before taking a gulp of courage and sitting up to meet the stirring of your pelvis with his, cock sputtering up into your cunt as he supports you with his large hands behind your back.

the position is possibly the most intimate you’ve been in — naked chest to naked chest, your nipples rubbing against the softness of his pecs, your knees on either side of him as his are crossed underneath you, body so much smaller than his, lips so close to touching with every jerk and bump but never really kissing, always teasing. it’s all so fucking hot and there’s nothing you want more than for him to fill you up once more.

the knock-knock-knock of another orgasm has you pulling him so close against you, practically forcing him to shift his entire weight on top of you. you feel the need to bury him inside your skin. to be bound entirely and irrefutably. his lips, just now attached to the mounds on your chest, start rambling in his native tongue. you're not quite fluent in french but you've been with william long enough to pick up some things; the important things. through his wanton panting and sighing, he's spilling all his desires to you — telling you that he can't wait to see you swollen with his child, can’t wait to see if they’ll have his hair or your smile, can’t wait for you both to finally be the parents you had dreamed of being. there’s a fire in his words and it sets your whole body alight, scratching down his back in vicious streaks that will surely be present for the next week.

“w-william, please,” you wail, legs burning in their effort to capture your awaiting high. “put a baby in me, fuck, please, fuck a baby into me.” freshly hot tears are fully spilling down your cheeks now, the ecstasy of his cock pounding into you and the promises he’s made to you proving too much and you need relief from it all, desperately.

“gonna do just that, angel, gonna fill you up nice and good,” he moans out, pulling you in closer to his gyrating form. “gonna fill you up over and over until we get that baby.”

and that’s the tipping point for you, your husband’s words, so sincerely sweet yet sinful, being the thing to push you over and have you cumming with a thunderous scream of his name. your pussy gushes around his rigid length, walls fluttering around it so forcefully you’re scared they’ll be stuck like this forever. william soon follows with his own orgasm, a few throaty moans that sound so pretty coming from his plump limps as they match the rhythm with which he spurts his sticky cum into you. your legs tremble in both exhaustion and bliss around william, and he’s quick to soothe them over with his hands, mouth landing kisses over your face and your chest.

there’s only a symphony of heavy panting from you both now, and the occasional whimper or soft moan, as william lays on his back with you on top of him, large hands running up and down your back to steady your breathing, his dick still firmly in you. you're pretty sure you've forgotten what it feels like to be empty and without him.

“you okay?” he mumbles into your hair, a loving kiss left on your forehead before he tilts your chin up to look at him, your eyes weary and ready to doze off. you can only muster up an mmhmm but william is determined to end the night perfectly for you.

“hang on, baby, okay?” he requests before slowly pulling out of your heat and dashing to the bathroom where you can hear the din of him rummaging through cupboards and running the bathtub’s taps, leaving you to laze around with a pool of cum leaking out of you. the sudden crash of something metal followed by a shit! is enough to pull you out of the clasps of sleep, however.

your husband reappears swiftly, a boyishly guilty look on his face to which you raise an eyebrow.

“everything’s fine!” he assures your silent questioning. “i want to take care of you right now, though. please?”

you flash him a tired but teasing smile in affirmation and he picks you up bridal-style, giving a quick kiss to your lips before walking you over to the bathtub and gently placing you in the comfortably warm and bubbly water where you feel your muscles instantly relax. the calmingly fragrant scent of chamomile fills your nostrils as you sigh up at your lover.

“thank you, honey,” you speak, a slight croak to your voice from honest exhaustion. william nods at you before plotting another sweet kiss on your temple.

“room for a little one?” he asks with a beautiful grin on his face, teeth all out in his signature style.

“always.” you scoot forwards to make room for him and he slips his much larger frame behind you, instantaneously pulling your back into his chest, hands delicately soothing over your tummy as he delivers a bunch of kisses across the plane of your shoulders.

“sounds stupid but i already have a list of names that i wanna go over with you.” he says shyly after a moment of quiet.

you giggle and set a devoted kiss to the wedding band on his ring finger.

“i’m all ears.”

#MAH DICK FELL AWFF #guys it’s not even funny anymore i NEED him to put a baby in meeeeeeeeee 😫😫😫😫😫😫#literally the only french person that deserves rights EVURRRRRRRR he can put his oui oui baguette right inside this pu-#the only man i would cook and clean for i promiseeeee you #william saliba #william saliba imagine #william saliba smut #william saliba x reader #william saliba x you #william saliba x y/n #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer smut #˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗

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memo-blogs · 10 months ago

Text

Wish

An Astarion x Tav (any gender) fic (wholesome/SFW) ((Also, contains spoilers for the game)) (((15th July, 2024 - updated cover art)))

As the warm glow of the fading sun caressed the sky, he awoke. Alone, again. Astarion trekked up to the first floor window and peeked outside at the fading sun, longing more than for its warming rays. He looked at the note he had been carrying in his pocket again. The messy familiar scrawlings of his darling.

"There's something I have to do. Please wait for me. -Tav"

It had been days. Where were they? Why wouldn't they take him with them? His mood darkening with the sky, Astarion turned away from the window of his humble abode with Tav.

Or well, maybe "humble" wasn't the right word. Fabulous, well and tastefully adorned, just as Astarion liked it. Tav had smiled that adoring smile of theirs as they let Astarion decorate their home. "You always did have excellent taste, love", Tav had said as they helped Astarion put everything just so. They had been all around the world, looking for just the right drapes, cutlery, carpets, paintings and so on. Their home had two floors and a surprisingly large basement. The days spent finding and putting together the place were mundane and domestic, but full of so much warmth and gentleness that Astarion let a sigh escape his lips as he descended back to the basement floor, painfully aware.

Aware that while the house was exactly how he'd like his home to be, and that while he was excited to actually have a place to call home, it was just a place without Tav. Astarion walked the corridors adorning their nest with knick-knacks and memoirs from their travels together, chuckling at the vibrating dog-collar found in the Underdark, realising that the most at home he'd ever felt was with Tav. He opened their bedroom door and winced at the empty bed. Somehow, even though he had room to roam, and the right to leave the house every night, the empty loneliness of their shared bedroom reminded him of the year he spent in a coffin in isolation as punishment from Cazador. He shuddered. His back ached with the memory of abuse. But he also remembered how softly Tav had wrapped their arms around him, promising never again would he be trapped. And so far, Tav had more than kept their word.

He sat down on their bed. His and Tav's. Astarion absent-mindedly caressed the bedsheets, lost in thoughts.

Where was Tav? What could take this long? Why not take him with them? After all they'd been through together, didn't they trust him? Or… Maybe Tav needed to do something in daylight. Astarion felt the pang of loss. While being tadpoled by an elder brain had been a horror, he had enjoyed the unexpected side-effect of being able to walk in the sun, and missed it dearly. Maybe it was his elf blood that made him ache for the sun. Ah, but to be a vampire, and to walk in the sun! That had been power. That had been the first taste of delicious freedom for him.

Astarion let his thoughts wander back to Cazador's ritual of ascension. Would have sacrificing all those souls really been worth not having to thirst and to be free to walk in the sun? Gods. There were moments where he genuinely thought he'd give anything for that. Fearful, painful moments. And he was so close to giving in to his panic to never be caged ever again.

But then, he recalled Tav's hand in his. Their smiling face. Their selfless bravery in battle, shielding him, always having his back. The way Tav looked at him, how, even if Astarion was just joking that he only wanted vain empty compliments, Tav's responses were always sincere and full of affection. The gentle way they made love. Something about the way Tav loved Astarion was so true, he couldn't deny it. It was in everything Tav did. It was in the way Tav opened up about being a Bhaalspawn, and fearing they'd hurt him. How they weren't afraid of losing power or control or murdering innocents in general - Tav was more scared and willing to give up the one thing they truly loved, if it meant keeping him safe. Him. Astarion. A measly vampire spawn who, in the grand scheme of things, should have meant nothing to someone like Tav. Yet they had died at Bhaal's altar, giving up all that power to be a decent, regular person, and to have a chance to love Astarion. For Tav, it had been more important to die wanting to be good and to love than to give up their soul to live powerful but practically in slavery. Thank the gods Withers had been there to raise Tav as a mortal, no longer tied to Bhaal. To give them and Astarion a chance to live.

Astarion lied down on the bed. Tav loved him enough to set him free. Tav didn't want to own or control him. They never had. They had always let Astarion make his own decisions. Stood by Astarion when he confronted Cazador. Never telling him what to do, but supporting him through it all. If he had ascended, he would have been lost forever. He would have gained power, but he would have lost himself, and become a beast beyond reckoning… Probably very much like Tav almost did, like their sister Orin had. Astarion had read up on vampire lords after, and realised part of the reason Cazador had been so cruel wasn't only that his master Vellion had been equally brutal to Cazador… But also because the one edge spawns had over full fledged vampires, was that they were still capable of love. Of feelings. Cazador had hated him with a passion, partly because he couldn't feel anything else.

And what if it hadn't been him to have been swept up in the mindflayer ship? What if it had been one of his vampire siblings? If the roles had been reversed, and he was still stuck with Cazador while his sibling dealt with the Netherbrain with Tav, he would have hoped to have been given a chance to live as well. He chuckled. Gods. All those spawn down in the Underdark, wreaking havoc. Ah, to be a spider on the ceiling!

Astarion stared at the ceiling of their bed. Mindflayers and vampire lords weren't that different beasts, after all. Soulless opportunists looking to drain whatever they found useful until it no longer wasn't. Astarion turned his head to look at the empty pillow beside him. The longing and uselessness he felt almost made him want to be some emotionless monster. He got up, frustrated.

He felt alone and oddly fragile. More so with each passing day Tav was absent. He trusted Tav. They said they'll be back. So they would be. But Astarion was worried. He walked to Tav's bedroom table and picked up the Sending Stone. He had picked it up and put it down many times as the days passed. He rolled it in his hands again, pondering who to message.

He finally gave the Stone a squeeze, activating it, and uttered: "Shadowheart love, sorry to bother you on a wonderful night such as this, but do you happen to know where Tav is?" The Stone flashed, letting him know the message was sent. He waited for a response.

None came. Odd. They weren't exactly the bestest of friends with Shadowheart, but she had always given some sort of reply when he had messaged her. Was she missing with Tav? Did they take Shadowheart with them wherever they went, but not him? What was going on? He thought of their old companions. Wyll and Karlach were still in the Hells, as far as he knew. Halsin was rebuilding the Shadowlands now that the shadows were no more. Jaheira was rebuilding Baldur's Gate. Lae'Zel was long gone fighting for the freedom of her people. He didn't dare to even think what Minsc was up to, or how he'd respond to any message, really. This didn't leave him many options on who to try next. He squeezed the Stone again, activating it.

"Gale - would you be a dear and let me know if you have any idea where Tav is?"

The response came in surprisingly quick this time. "Astarion! A little busy right now - ack!" The response cut out.

Astarion sat back down on the bed, Sending Stone in hand. So Shadowheart was unresponsive and Gale, professor of magic in Waterdeep, was clearly in some kind of battle - what were the odds these two events were unrelated? What was Tav up to that they had called on Shadowheart and Gale, but left him at home to worry? He stood up and paced. What was going on?

He heard a weary sigh in his ear. "Astarion." It was Gale. He was sending a message back. Astarion stopped to listen. "Terribly sorry not to respond. In a bit of a spot of bother. We're helping Tav… Retrieve an item, and it is proving rather tricky. Not to worry! Shadowheart has patched up the worst of Tav's injuries and we're nearly done here. We'll bring Tav home tomorrow night once we've all rested from today's activities."

"Tav is hurt?" Astarion found himself nearly shouting. He contained himself and poised his next words to be more his usual lax self. "Do make sure to tell them to not drag any blood on my Calimshite carpets when you return. They were very expensive. I suppose I'll have dinner waiting after sunset. You still drink wine, don't you Gale?"

Gale chuckled. "Tav says they wouldn't dream of dirtying your precious carpets. And a fine wine with some cheese sounds wonderful. See you tomorrow."

Astarion put the Stone back on Tav's table. Honestly he couldn't care less about the stupid carpets or even this entire house - he just wanted Tav back safe and sound. Tav getting injured worried him, as he knew how annoyingly self-sacrificing they could be. Didn't they agree to look after themselves first after the whole mess with the Netherbrain? What was Tav thinking?

Astarion walked upstairs and put on a coat. He needed the air to calm his nerves, and a meal to quench his thirst. Plus, now he'd have to prepare dinner for at least three since Tav was coming home with an entourage. He thought back to where Tav placed the recipe for that strange sauce Gale kept harping on about, and with a put upon sigh determined to make his best effort to make the stupid thing. Tav would be happy if he tried to be kind to their friends. And if they brought Tav back to him alive, maybe slaving over a meal wasn't such a big thing.

The next sunset, Astarion felt a little pathetic, sitting by their door waiting. But he couldn't help it. He was anxious to see what Tav had gone out to retrieve that was apparently worth dying over. And mostly, just to see his beloved idiot again. It had been horribly lonely and empty without Tav. And honestly, just mind-numbingly boring. He had started preparing dinner early as he couldn't really sleep the day, waiting. It was simmering on their stove. He had gone a bit overboard with setting the table as well, picking out Tav's favourite flowers and bringing out their best cutlery for their friends.

Astarion gingerly stole a glance at the last rays of the sun diving underneath the horizon, and as soon as they disappeared, a teleportation circle promptly manifested in their yard. As expected, Gale walked out, looking behind him as if encouraging whomever was behind him to follow. Out came Shadowheart and surprisingly, Jaheira, supporting a limping Tav between them. As soon as they were through, Gale shut the portal behind them.

Astarion couldn't contain himself. He flung the door open and ran to hold Tav. He held them hard, as if afraid Tav would vanish if he let go. For a small moment, he was lost in Tav's familiar scent. The one he had come to associate with being loved and being home, and he managed to hold back his tears on how good it felt to have Tav near him again. Tav gently kissed Astarion on his head, laying their head on his. "Hello, darling. Miss me?"

Astarion suddenly felt acutely aware they weren't alone and broke off their embrace. He tried to ignore Jaheira's knowing smirk and Shadowheart's little smile as he turned to face the latter. "I thought Gale said you'd patch my precious knucklehead before sending them home. Why are they still injured?"

Tav looked embarrassed. "Well, uh-" They were cut off by Jaheira. "Because we only have so many healing spells to spare a day, spawn, and we did as much as we could after a night's rest for the reckless cub, Shadowheart and I." Jaheira smacked Tav on the shoulder, as if to reprimand them for needing healing in the first place. Astarion's eyes widened in shock. "How hurt were you?"

"Exhaustingly so." Shadowheart sighed. "For a moment there, I wasn't sure Tav was still among the living, or that we could even bring them back, but we did, thank Selûne."

"Aye, burnt to a crisp by that one trap we missed. Shame the temple was filled with so much undead-repelling magics that we couldn't risk bringing our favourite vampire spawn in there to check for all of them, but we managed."

Everyone stopped when they noticed how quiet Astarion got. There was an awkward silence that hung among the group, as everyone realised even without tadpoles to connect them that Astarion was not okay with the news given. Tav looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry I didn't ask you to come along. I know you would have come even if I didn't ask if I said I was going. But, there is a reason for this." Tav signaled for Shadowheart and Jaheira to release them, and stood up on their own feet.

Astarion sighed. "Just don't do it again. Now, I've made enough dinner for all of you, and there are guest bedrooms upstairs if you want to stay the night. You can tell me all about it over dinner." Astarion walked up to Tav, offering them a hand to lean on as he led them home. Their friends smiled and walked behind them, grateful for the offer of a hearth, a meal and a warm home.

Tav whispered in his ear. "Just like that? You forgive me for taking off without you?" Astarion gave their arm a gentle squeeze. "Yes love. I said I trust you, and despite all the evidence to the contrary, I still do." They walked together into their home with their friends. "But please don't leave me alone like this again. I don't like being alone with my thoughts for so long." Tav kissed his pale cheek. "I promise. This was the last escapade I'll ever do without your blessing."

As they sat down for dinner Jaheira laughed. "Astarion, seems I have misjudged you yet again. Not only was I right in mistaking you for a good man, now I am beginning to believe I might mistake you for a great husband. This is a beautiful setup!"

"Oh hush, you old crone. It's just dinner among friends", Astarion quipped back, smiling despite himself.

Gale sniffed the air as he sat down. "Is that Hundur sauce I smell?" He took a small dab of sauce on his spoon and tasted it. "By Mystra, you even got the flavours just right! Astarion! I didn't know you had the makings of a cook."

"There are many things you don't know about me, darling."

Shadowheart piped in while breaking bread for herself. "Indeed - I for one, am having a hard time telling which one of you loves the other more, you or Tav. Especially after this stunt we helped them pull. It'd be disgusting if you two weren't so adorable together… What isn't a mystery though, is who decorated your house. Really, Astarion?"

"You're just jealous you don't have my sense of style, love."

They all smirked, Tav smiling the biggest of them all. "Thank you, everyone. For being here. For you three for helping me with this… We can talk about what we did, but I'd like to tell Astarion in private what we got out of it, if that's okay. And… Just, you are all my family and I love you all very much. I am honoured to be among such amazing friends, and could not ask for better ones. If you ever need anything, anything at all, call and you know I will be there."

A choked silence hung among them, as no one really knew what to add to such heartfelt words of affection. Astarion smiled. Tav was one-of-a-kind. And all his. Jaheira turned her head to wipe a tear. Shadowheart smiled. Gale cleared his throat. "Well, let's not waste our gracious chef's efforts by letting this feast go cold. Shall we?"

They ate together as mostly Gale and Shadowheart regaled them with the story of how they had found a long-abandoned temple of Lathander, and plunged into it's surprisingly sunny depths, with occasional snarky remarks from the wizened Jaheira of all the blunders they made along the way. Tav focused on the meal, following along the story, nodding in places in agreement on the retelling of their past few days, and laughing at everyone's quips and remarks on their mishaps while at it. Astarion wondered what was worth this much trouble. The Blood of Lathander was still with Shadowheart. What more could the sun god offer that was worth the risk? He also noted that Tav seemed oddly nervous, and avoided his gaze throughout the dinner, shyly blushing into their dinner whenever their eyes did meet. Astarion found himself anxious as well, every now and then letting his foot tap under the table before he caught himself, and composed himself once more.

Eventually dinner came to a close, and they saw their guests to bed. Shadowheart promised to finish healing up Tav as soon as she woke up and before Gale teleported them all back home. They wished their friends a good night.

Astarion gently helped Tav down into their basement bedroom, and then to take off their armour and clothes. Dawn was already approaching, which was their bedtime, as Tav had adopted Astarion's nocturnal schedule with ease. He noted the bruising, the burns, the barely closed wounds from the battles Tav had recently fought without him while undressing them. He got lost in softly caressing Tav's battered body, until Tav's hand found his, and gently held it. Astarion looked into Tav's eyes. "Alright. We're alone now - could you please tell me what was worth nearly killing yourself over, again? The suspense is killing me, darling."

Tav looked at their knees, searching for their words. "You know how you showed me your grave stone", they started.

"Of course love, how could I forget? We made such excellent love on top of it that night. I cannot think of a better way to celebrate my rebirth at the time", Astarion shot back with a devilish grin. "I fail to see how my faded grave stone has anything to do with your little adventure", he added.

"Well that's just it - your grave was so faded, we couldn't make out the day you died. Or the day you were born. And you still can't remember, right?"

"Well no, I can't and honestly, I don't really care to. That person is long gone and can stay that way for all I care. Why does it matter?"

Tav played with their hands in their lap. "Today's a year from the day we first met. I was afraid I wouldn't make it back on time, but I did." Tav used the bed post to stand up, and limped to their satchel. They took out an unassuming scroll case. "I figured, today could be both yours and my birthday. Since I can't remember my birthday either. It could be our anniversary. A day of celebration. Our day. And I went out and got the one thing I really, truly want to give you above all... I've been plotting ways to find one for some time now." Tav limped in front of Astarion and painfully but meticulously got on one knee. Astarion could feel his cheeks getting hot - a feeling he wasn't sure he was even capable of anymore, being undead and all.

Tav presented the scroll case to him. "The temple of the sun god had been rumoured to contain a Wish spell. I risked everything to find out if the rumour was true, and it was. With this scroll, anyone can wish for anything; once." Tav placed the scroll into Astarion's hands.

"I know how much you loved walking in the sun, Astarion. Your life was taken from you. Your freedom. Even the sun was stolen from you. I give you this scroll, so that you can wish for anything. You can wish to ascend without sacrificing all those spawn, you can wish to be rid of your vampiric curse, you could wish to rule the world - anything you want." Tav gently squeezed Astarion's hands, holding the scroll case, and looked up at him with their piercing eyes. "I love you, Astarion. And I always will. I give you ultimate freedom to choose anything you want, anything at all."

For a moment, it felt as if time stood still as Astarion fully absorbed what Tav just said. What they were offering him. Suddenly, he couldn't help but cry. He threw the scroll case into a corner of the room and knelt down to hold his precious Tav as close as he could. How had he gotten so lucky? After centuries of misery, how was he here, now, with this amazing creature? He kissed them deeply, passionately, as if trying to convey all his overwhelming affection and gratitude in one, two, no; dozens of kisses and caresses. He didn't care he was still crying. He didn't care if he seemed insane. He just wanted to feel Tav, and never let go. To tell them without words Tav meant more to him than anything they could ever bring home.

After awhile, he stopped and they leaned their foreheads together, holding hands. Astarion noticed Tav was crying too, but Tav gave him a little smile nonetheless. There was an unanswered question in Tav's eyes -

What did Astarion want to Wish for?

Astarion kissed Tav on the forehead once more. "You are a reckless idiot." He got up and picked up the scroll case, and took out the scroll. Such a mundane looking piece of paper, to give out a moment of godlike powers to mere mortals. He played with it as if it was nothing. Tav smirked. "I know. So love, what are you going to use it for?"

Astarion grinned back at Tav. "Oh, I don't know. World domination does sound like an awful lot of work, doesn't it? And I have never heard of a happy vampire lord, now that I think of it. Powerful, to be sure - but not happy."

"I could wish for a sea of puppy dogs and kittens for you", Astarion joked. Tav laughed. "I got the scroll for you, smooth brain. I already have everything I need - what I want, is you to be free, in whatever way you want to be free." Tav dropped their joking demeanor and picked up their surprisingly disarming sincerity. "With or without me, I want you to be happy. You helped me find freedom and regain myself and my life back. Without you, I'd still be a slave to Bhaal's endless fervour to murder, or a mindflayer. You believed in me when no one else did, and supported me through bouts of madness. I owe my life to you… So I want you to choose yours. And whatever you choose, know I'll always love you for carrying me through my darkest days."

Astarion looked at Tav. He didn't need to connect through the no-longer-present tadpole to know they meant every word. He looked down at the scroll of Wish in his hands. He could be anyone. He could do anything. He could be the most powerful, influential and beloved man in all of Faerûn - all he had to do was say the words.

The scroll knew he meant to make his Wish. It glowed in anticipation. He smiled at Tav. "I wish to be cured of vampirism and to be an elf that's capable of walking in the sun with his beloved."

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randomchaosyay · 5 months ago

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Chigiri Hyoma ~ Stuck inside

CHIGIRI MY BABY 😩

I have a huge slight blue lock fixation rn and I’m writing to fuel my obsession.

Please send blue lock requests

Warnings: None

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a blizzard out there, snow falling heavily in every direction and you could’ve sworn there was a foot on the ground already despite it only have been snowing for about twenty minutes or so. There was a severe weather warning blaring through your phone, advising everyone to stay home.

Well there go your plans, Chigiri had practice and you were supposed to meet up with your friends at a cafe nearby. But it wasn’t all bad, secretly inside you were overjoyed at the fact that you were stuck home with Chigiri, a day all to yourselves. Smiling at the thought, you went over to snuggle up with Hyoma on the couch, who had already changed back into his comfy clothes. You both snuggled up in silence for a little bit under a blanket as you ran your fingers through his soft red hair, the hair that only you were allowed to touch.

You knew he was a bit disappointed that practice was canceled today since he there were some pretty good players that were supposed to stop by his team’s practices this week, to help improve their strengths. You hated seeing his pretty face contort into a soft frown, however, you had a pretty good idea as to what would cheer him up.

“You know,” you started gently, catching his attention as you spoke, thumb stroking his cheek,“we haven’t done a self care day in a while”.

Hyoma’s face instantly broke into a huge smile as he squeezed you in a hug and practically jumped up from the couch.

“That’s a great idea! You stay here and I’ll grab all the stuff we need.” Chigiri called back to you, already running off to grab everything as he spoke. It had been a little while since you two could spend some quality time together, but weekly self care had always been a routine with you two.

Hyoma quickly returned and you started off with hair care, moving through the house as needed, and doing each others routine for them. You were one of the only people in the world Chigiri would let touch his hair, and it never failed to make you feel special. Like he trusted you, and loved you.

Just as you were both about to apply face masks, the power went out. A complete blackout. You held Hyoma’s hand as you both lit candles around the house and moved back to sit on the couch. You grabbed the hot cocoa you had made earlier, handing Hyoma’s mug to him, which he took gratefully, and then he grabbed yours as well. He set them down on a table nearby and pulled you down onto his lap.

Hyoma snuggled his head into you shoulder as he said softly, “I’m so lucky to have you love”.

A light layer of pink dusted your cheeks at his words and you responded, threading your fingers through his hair as you spoke, “Liar, I’m the lucky one here Hyoma”

“I love you.” He said, lips pressing a soft, warm kiss to your neck.

“I love you too, pretty boy.”

Maybe, just maybe, you should get stuck inside a bit more often.

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scaredcrab · 2 years ago

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Coffee Shop II (drabble)

Character: ☾ Macaque x Reader ☽

✐ Summary: You work at this café. Suddenly, there's a monkey there!

✐ Category: Cute. Romantic. Funny.

Since you guys loved the Wukong one, I thought the other monkey man also deserved his own coffee shop text. ★ ☆

Link to Wukong version: Here.

-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-✐-☾-

☆ That's how it all started: Sun no longer visible, everything covered with shadows, courtesy of the dark gray clouds that embraced the horizon with their humidity, a sky ready to cry.

☆ A ring it's heard coming from the front door, revealing him in a wet cloak. Macaque walks in his human form towards you, leaving a dripping trail as he approaches.

☆ "May I have a warm drink, please?"

You looked at him and waited,

And waited,

Waited until the warrior himself got annoyed and gave you an irritated look.

"Did you have an issue with me, you-…?" - You raise one finger to his mouth to shut him.

"Which warm drink? You need to be more specific than that."

☆ He slaps the finger from his mouth, and gritted his teeth, all of this while slamming one of his hands in the counter you were standing.

☆ A sigh followed by a roll of your eyes was all you had to him. Soon you turned your back to the simian, leaving the cashier area.

☆ "Wha... What about my drink?"

"Ask for something specific and I will get it. If you're here just for shelter from the rain, you can just stay, but I'm not going to guess your order."

☆ Oh, of course, he would be specific. He would be the most specific as possible, a special treatment just for you. As you got back, he had a giant grin in his face...

...

☆ Different from what he expected, you continued unbothered while writing a super complicated order.

"A large cup with half soy milk and half goat milk, a bit of decaf coffee, 6 pumps of vanilla, 6 pumps of classic syrup, and 69 pumps of sugar free caramel syrup. All with hot milk, warm decaf coffee, cinnamon sprinkled on top, whipped cream and purple sprinkles. May I offer something to eat alongside the drink?"

How did you even understand all of this when he said as fast as he could?

☆ The warrior felt challenged. It was the dumbest task he could ever accept, but he wanted said mission.

☆ Showing up at your workplace to try to annoy you with the craziest requests became routine for the monkey.

☆ You never seemed to mind (actually enjoying the daily share of laughs when the order ended up being a shit for all the originality of different ingredients combined), and had an amazing ability to always understand these orders.

☆ Even with you always getting the orders right, your never got his name right. It would always be spelled wrong in the cups, creating a new funny nickname with each visit.

"Here is your drink and your mango mousse, mister Mah-cake."

☆ He never got to earn a good reaction, no matter how insane his requests would be. It was always you laughing at him drinking a new special combination, never him getting the fun.

This until he learned a trick.

☆ "Here's your order." - It was quickly placed on the table, practically slapped there, you turned away, without caring who you were serving.

Instead of getting mad at this, Macaque just lazily teased you, "Are you nervous, sweetie?~ Want me to hold your hands in mine?"

☆ While you shifted in place to go away, he didn't catch the vision of your face fast enough, but he could hear what he has done to you.

A little squeak of surprise, so subtle that no mortal hearing would catch it, and the heartbeat accelerating. That changed the whole dynamic.

☆ From that day on he started to dedicate himself to saying things that made you blush instead of trying to exaggerate the requests.

☆ Shameless flirting, compliments on appearance, the occasional gentle touch on your hand as you slid the order across the table for him. Each gesture accompanied by the most velvety voice he could muster.

☆ "Uh... Could you repeat the order, please?" - A blush so strong filled your head to the point that even your ears turned red.

"Pardon me, what did you just say now?"

☆ Of course, the Six Eared Macaque heard what you said, but he wanted to hear again. You finally didn't understand an order, and it wasn't because of how hard it was to get it, it was for the fact that he managed to make you unable to concentrate.

☆ His eyes got wrapped in the satisfying view of you shaking lightly, with eyes that darted from the ground to his lips while weakly mumbling "I got distracted".

☆ As the days passed he felt more pleasure in seeing you like this, and with all that passing of time he felt more and more the desire to always see you. It was fact that he caught some feelings.

☆ Despite your insecurities, you started to flirt back, in your own way. His favorite table was always reserved for him, sometimes his order would come with extra desserts, and occasionally a napkin would appear in his stuff with a written question asking his favorites musics, the answer would define the soundtrack for the café on that day.

☆ "Look, I'm really liking all those special favors, but when are you going to make a move on me?"

The face hid behind a tray, pretending not to hear as you left, "H-Have a nice day!"

☆ One day a customer started bothering you. Your service wasn't fast enough in his opinion, and because of that he made sure to mistreat you in public.

☆ To avoid things from getting out of hand, you listened to all with your head down in hope that he would go away after saying everything he wanted to.

But he only left after throwing a cup in your direction, luckily he didn't hurt you much.

☆ Macaque couldn't control himself. Once the man got out of the place, the monkey dragged him to an alley and beat the shit out of him.

"Never bother them again, did you hear me?"

☆ He just didn't count on the fact that the back doors of the cafeteria led to that alley, that you would open the door to throw out the garbage and end up watching the whole fight without him noticing.

☆ "Well, I guess you saw all of that, huh? Are you scared of me now? Are you afraid of demons?" - Macaque pulled his theatrics to make his lil dramatic phrase.

"... Thank you for defending me, Macaque." - You quickly leave a peck at his cheek and run back to the café.

He is left with the sweet sensation of victory.

☆ Macaque's regular visits continue, and after gathering your courage, you finally call the demon to go out and soon after you two starts dating.

#lmk #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk macaque x reader #macaque x reader #lmk fanfiction #lmk macaque #my bf called him mah-cake by accident and now it's his special nickname

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lbcreations-blog · 11 months ago

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Lilith x reader part 1

Masterlist

Pt 2

The ocean is so nice

Flap. Flap. Flap. Your wings went as you explored the less inhabited parts of heaven.

Everything was beautiful. You saw a jungle, some nice-looking wetlands, some tundras, grasslands, and some other lovely looking ecosystems.

After a while, you started flying over an ocean, a beautiful one at that. After a few minutes of flying over the ocean, you started getting tired, so seeing that the shore was coming up, you decided to rest there, which was perfect because you loved the look of the beach, especially this one.

Once landing on the beach, your wings slowed down. Flap. Flap.. Flap... Flap... your feet slowly rested against the soft, warm, sand. It felt... peaceful.

You walked for a tiny bit until you saw a woman in the distance. It seemed that she was lounging on a sunlounger.

You decided to walk closer until you were only 6 feet away. You then sat down on the sand and looked at the sea. The woman said nothing as she watched the waves, her beautiful blonde hair swaying with the wind. After a minute or two, you spoke.

"Do you enjoy the waves?" You asked the woman. Silence... "yes its peaceful... do you?" The woman asked. "Of course I enjoy it. It's calming it helps me forget my past, " you answered the woman.

A few seconds of silence passed again, and only the ocean waves made noise. "It also helps me forget mine," the woman told you. A few more seconds passed again until you spoke, "For my past, it was being forced to be with someone I didn't like," you told the woman feeling that you should tell her some lore about yourself for some reason.

Silence again.

"Toché" the woman said. Silence fell upon you two once again. After a good half an hour to an hour of sitting there on the beach, you decided to head back home so you could rest and sleep for the next days advents.

Once standing up, you told her you were leaving and why, but before flying off, you asked her one last question.

"What is your name, stranger?"

"Lilith"

I know we have not seen her majesty yet, but I love her, so I made this fic

Should I make a pt 2 for this and maybe some headcanons? Tell me what you think.

Otherwise goodnight/day

Taglist request section here

-L.B Creations

#hazbin hotel #she mah wife #hazbin hotel x reader #lilith #lilith hazbin hotel #lilith hazbin hotel x reader #lilith x reader #fanfic #hazbin fanfics #x reader #hazbin lilith x reader

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midnightmah07 · 1 year ago

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I love Fairy Gala sm it's so good crying

#artists on tumblr #oc x canon #fanart #twisted wonderland #sketch #twst #twst jamil #jamil viper #jamil x reader #twisted wonderland jamil #twst leona #leona kingscholar #💙! mah's art

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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year ago

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Sweetheart and Konig share one of those giant stuffed bears (Djungelskog?) cuddle sessions after tough missions

STOP THATS SO CUTE

AND LOOK HOW BIG IT ISSSSSS

I want one

But omg, you know they do - when Sweetheart purses her lips to König and her eyes are heavy with her eyebrows tugged up a bit, he knows it's cuddling time with Mr. Brownie. (That's the bear's name-- Sweetheart named it ♡) Mr. Brownie stays in König's room because Sweetheart has too much stuff in hers, so they get cleaned and meet up at his room, and as König is getting Mr. Brownie out of his closet, Sweetheart is already under his covers waiting for him.

König's heart swells when he sees her in his bed. Ugh and he gets so excited when he sees her arms out wide and hands grabbing the air for him. AND THE LITTLE WHINE THAT SHE DOES WHEN SHES IMPATIENT FOR KÖNIG IS JUST-- SO CUTE OMG

He walks over to her and gives her Mr. Brownie, and he's shaking-- fighting the urge to take a picture of her snuggling up to this big ole bear with a soft smile on her face. She waves her hand to him to get in the bed and yk he immediately does. He squeezes in, under the covers with Sweets and scoops her up in his big arms. His head is resting on Mr. Brownie, and his hands are holding her close, so close that he can smell her shampoo and her cocoa butter lotion. God, he's in heaven.

König was about to fall asleep but he felt a tug on his hood. "Off..." Sweetheart mumbles with a whine, "Take it off, King."

He chuckles at her sleepy talk, sliding the hood off his head (the one that she made for him) "That better, süßer Kuchen?" He whispers to her. She shivers from his low, raspy voice, yet smiles as she sees his soft expression. She hums, hand going up to his scarred and stubbled cheek as her thumb caresses his skin. He melts in her touch, his hands holding her even closer. Their eyes slowly flutter shut, breathing in sync as Mr. Brownie watches over them.

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myfanfic-urfantrash · 4 months ago

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What if I had some thoughts?

Omega!Sunday would be so pretty in lingerie. Sitting there all pretty ordering his mate to give him the knot he deserves.

Omega!Blade would look great in leather but some nice silk would do wonders. Letting it stain with his own slick as he sucks his mates cock.

Omega!Jing Yuan covered in ribbons or rope would be divine. His hips fidgeting as he's eaten out but unable to move.

Just have them all dressed up

#mah brain is thinking thoughts #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail a/b/o #honkai star rail omegaverse #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #sunday x reader

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strawberriemarswrites · 11 months ago

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CHAPTER SEVEN

Chapter Summary: You're having some interesting dreams lately, and one day after work you catch some unwanted attention. Good thing someone's started following you home. Pairing: Bartolomeo x F!Reader Rating: Explicit, NSFW Chapter (18+ only; PiV sex) TW: public harassment, Barto's full-on stalking now, first dream is nice and steamy but the second dream at the end involves a bit of gore Ao3 Link: Chapter Seven (2,877 words)

Spring melted into Summer, and you quickly learned the AC rattled for just a bit too long whenever it turned on. It hadn’t yet been pushed to its limit, but it left you worried that it would kick the bucket when the first truly scorching day rolled around. It worked for now, at least, which was a godsend given the more pressing matter at hand.

Namely, someone pressing into you while you were bent over the kitchen counter. You weren’t entirely sure how you got there, or how Bartolomeo got into the apartment, but things had apparently escalated quickly.

His hands gripped your hips, your toes grazing the floor with each languid push. He nuzzled the shell of your ear, and you were surprised his septum ring was still cold against your skin, sending shocks down your spine.

“Sweetheart,” he purred, his voice impossibly low.

“Barto,” you whined, his name echoing despite the small space. “More.”

He obeyed, pulling out almost completely only to slam back in, his pace increasing. He was long, that much you knew, even though you hadn’t seen it. No matter how deep he pushed, he always seemed to be able to go even deeper, his cock dragging against your tight walls as his pace grew more erratic.

“My girl. Mine.” He punctuated his statement with a hard thrust, the rough handling contrasting sharply with the soft kisses and playful bites on your neck and shoulders. Sparks flew through your veins as the head of his cock pressed against your sweet spot. You hardly recognized yourself through the animalistic cry that wrenched free, your cunt being pushed to its limit.

Right on the cusp of release, a familiar rattling sound cut through the air.

Blearily, you opened your eyes. You were flopped over on your couch, dried drool on your cheek. The AC was wheezing to life, pulling you from your delicious reverie.

You groaned, covering your face. “Fuck.”

It was a beautiful evening as you got out of work for the day. The sky was a gradient of pinks and oranges as the sun began its slow descent below the skyline. Its reflection glinted off of buildings and cars, filling your vision with little sparks of gold.

The darkening sky made it easier for Bartolomeo to keep an eye on you as he followed you home, keeping three buildings between you and him.

For all intents and purposes, he could have casually walked up and passed off his presence as a coincidence, as if he was just out running errands. He imagined you’d ask if he wanted to walk home with you, something he’d do with all the enthusiasm of a puppy playing with his favorite toy. Maybe you could stop at the diner, and he’d actually get a chance to show that he loved the little brushes of contact with your legs against his. Maybe he’d even get to feel those legs around his hips—

Bartolomeo shook his head, expelling the thought. This was why he was following from a distance. He didn’t trust himself not to overwhelm you with advances, or let slip one of his more lewd thoughts.

You were blissfully unaware, a slight spring in your step as you walked down the steps to the subway platform. He watched you swipe a train pass and waited for you to turn the corner, before jumping the turnstiles and resuming the pursuit.

He’d never admit that, despite the risk of being caught, he was starting to get a bit of a thrill out of the whole situation. You hadn’t said anything about noticing break-ins in a while, which meant he was getting better about hiding his tracks. On occasion he hid on the fire escape when he knew you were awake, or sat by your door and listened to you play with Luffy or sing to yourself. Part of him felt guilty still, but that part was slowly getting quieter as he continued to get away with his antics.

Following you was another step down into the obsession pit. Bartolomeo could justify it to himself all he wanted to, despite the obvious truth. He boarded the subway car behind yours, watching your back through the windows.

The car you chose was less crowded than usual for this time of day, devoid of the locals you’d grown accustomed to seeing. It wasn’t completely empty, as there was a group of people near the front of the car who were too loud for the tiny space, horsing around and engaging in general foolishness. Not long after you sat down and started to look at your phone, however, the volume died down somewhat, replaced with some muttering and hushed snickering. Maybe they were being more considerate now that someone else was in the car with them.

If only they were that kind.

A few minutes passed before a shadow loomed over you. Startled, you looked up.

A blond man with sunglasses was staring down at you with a wide grin. He had two long scars across either side of his face, giving him an almost ruggedly handsome appearance, if it weren’t for the fact he was leaning over you with imposing intent.

“Hey there, dollface,” he said. “Traveling alone?”

You bristled, tucking your phone away. “I’m meeting someone.”

He laughed, “Sure you are. Who’re you meeting? A boyfriend?”

You shook your head, pulling your shoulders in, instinctively making yourself smaller.

The man laughed, “Aw, no need to be shy. I’m just making conversation.” He suddenly leaned over you, putting one hand over the back of the seat. “Tell you what — why don’t you ditch whoever it is and come join us?” He tipped his sunglasses down. “I’m sure my friends and I could show you a fun time.”

You tried to inch away, pressing yourself closer to the cool window. “I’m just meeting a friend. I’m sure we can have a fun time by ourselves.”

“Maybe they can join us. The more the merrier, right?” He cocked his head, looking you up and down. “If they’re half as pretty as you, you’ll both look good on either arm.”

You suppressed the urge to gag, instead shaking your head again. “I’m really not interested in a night out, thank you.”

“So a night in, then? I don’t mind going back to your place.”

You ground your teeth, a dial in your head moving a few notches from flight toward fight. Why couldn’t this guy take a hint? Abruptly, you stood, throwing him off guard enough that you were able to push past him and stand by the doors. “No. Thank you. Maybe some other time.”

One of his friends piped up from the front of the car, “Come on, Bellamy. She said she’s not interested.”

He shot the group a glare before smiling at you again, his tongue peeking out between his teeth as he regained his composure.

“Your loss,” he said with a shrug and leaned against a support pole as the train slowly pulled to a stop. “See you around.”

You couldn’t get off the train fast enough, not caring that you were still several stops away from the apartment. You took off at a brisk jog, rushing back up to the open air and hugging yourself as you tried to come down from the adrenaline rush. You knew your way to the next station, you could get back on once the train came back around — surely they’d all be gone by then. The sky began to darken further as you slowed back down to a walk, pushing your hair back with a shaking hand. Granted, it was a brief encounter, but you were confident you’d had enough excitement for one night.

With that thought, you again tempted fate.

As you came up to the next subway entrance, you grew increasingly aware of a chill down your spine. Initially, you chalked it up to the slight drop in temperature of the crisp summer evening, but it started to feel more like there were eyes on you. You rounded the signpost for the subway entrance, trying to casually catch sight of whoever may have been behind you—

On the entrance stairs was the scarred man — Bellamy, was it? — surrounded by his entourage.

“Hey there, dollface.” He grinned, his tongue darting out between his teeth. “Where’s that friend you were meeting?”

After assessing each one of his friends in turn, the dial in your brain switched back to flight so quickly the knob broke.

Voices shouted behind you as you ran faster than you believed you ever could, your steps thundering against the concrete. You couldn’t tell if the streets were strangely empty, or if you were running past people so fast that you stopped seeing them, only registering them as obstacles to dodge as you fled. You probably should have cried for help, but by the time you thought about it, your voice was lost in your lungs, smothered by the chilled night air that filled them. The only thing on your mind now was run.

Just as you made a sharp turn into an alley, a hand shot out and grabbed your arm, finally wrenching free the shriek caught in your chest. You clawed at the hand grabbing you, glaring daggers at Bellamy as he took off his sunglasses to stare down at you.

“Aw, you’re even prettier when you’re pissed off,” he laughed, lifting your arm over your head. With a sickening lurch in your stomach you felt your feet leave the ground, and your shoulder strained as he effortlessly held you up like you weighed nothing. He stopped when he had you dangling a good few feet above the sidewalk, his eyes wide and manic. “I’ll give you another chance: lemme show you a nice time, huh?”

It probably wasn’t the wisest decision, given the position you found yourself in, but it was the only thing you could think to do. You felt your palm sting and your feet hit the concrete before you fully realized you slapped him, hard enough to make him drop you. Staggering, you took off again in the direction you came, weaving around Bellamy’s friends only to run straight into someone’s chest. Panicked, you balled your hands into fists before you looked up and saw whose chest it was.

Bartolomeo put an arm around your shoulders and held you close, staring straight ahead at his target. In spite of the red creeping into his periphery, his expression was calm, only showing the bare minimum of the rage he felt firing through his nerves. “There a problem here?”

Bellamy’s troupe gave him a wide berth as he approached, a fading red handprint on the left side of his face. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothin’,” Bartolomeo started gently coaxing you behind him. “Just a friend passin’ through.”

The cocky grin from before slowly crept back up as Bellamy made eye contact with you. “Guess you weren’t lying after all about that friend.” His gaze then met Bartolomeo’s. “Not all that pretty though.”

“Funny,” Bartolomeo smirked, “that’s not what your mother was sayin’.”

Bellamy seethed, cracking his knuckles. “Looks like you and your little bitch need to learn some manners.”

Bartolomeo’s brow ticked and he took a step forward, before he felt you lightly pull on the back of his leather jacket. He looked down to you, putting an arm around your shoulders.

You tugged on his jacket again. He was outnumbered, and you really didn’t want to see him get hurt. “Come on, he’s not worth it,” you said. “Let’s just go home.”

His expression softened slightly, his fury abating. “You sure?”

You nodded, and he relented, turning his back slightly—

Before ducking out of range of a right hook. He backed up to keep out of Bellamy’s reach, nudging you further behind him. Bellamy threw another punch, and Bartolomeo brought both fists up to protect his face.

You quickly backed away from the fight, surprised to see the rest of the group do the same, as Bartolomeo swung from the left. As Bellamy went to block, he was struck from the right and nailed in the solar plexus, knocking the wind from him. Fueled further by the anger flooding his veins, Bartolomeo started wailing on his face, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and crunching bone echoing against the buildings.

You flinched with each hit, unable to look away as Bellamy’s face turned bloodier and more bruised. One of his friends tried to step forward before another one stopped him, muttering things between them before giving Bartolomeo a wide-eyed stare and backing up further.

Finally, the sounds stopped, and Bartolomeo shoved Bellamy backward toward his friends. He looked dazed, for as much as one who could barely see through the swelling on his face could, blood staining down the front of his shirt. Cuts on his cheeks and nose stood out sharply against the bruises, and he struggled to stand upright, before staggering back and being caught by two of his bigger comrades.

Bartolomeo turned back to you, barely having broken a sweat, knuckles bruised and his shirt spattered with blood.

You gaped, your heart racing, and a faint flush crept to your cheeks.

That is. Disturbingly hot.

He pulled you to his side with an arm around your shoulder, holding you close as he led you from the bloodbath. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get home.”

When you returned back to the apartment, you spent way too long in your living room helicoptering around Bartolomeo and dressing his knuckles, trying to insist that you treat his shirt with peroxide, and fangirling about how he handled that fight. He happily let you do so, even allowing you to shove an icepack into his less bruised hand to take with him, despite him having plenty of first aid material already. He was just relieved he’d gotten off the subway in time to follow you, and that you hadn’t noticed him when you were trying to get to the next station.

And he was relieved to show that prick what happens when someone messes with his girl.

Later that night as you slept, you felt a weight on your chest. You tried to move it, assuming it was Luffy, but your arms wouldn’t listen. You tried to roll over, but your body wouldn’t budge. You felt hot, heavy breathing across your face, and with immense effort you managed to open your eyes.

Bartolomeo was straddling your waist, his arms on either side of your head to keep his body from completely pinning yours down. His lips were pulled back into a snarl, his eyes glowing. His teeth looked even larger, especially up so close. Puffs of steam came from his mouth as he breathed, and in the darkness you weren’t sure if what was dripping from his lips was drool or blood.

You couldn’t stop the snarky part of you from saying, “What large teeth you have.”

Bartolomeo’s snarl turned into a grin. It was definitely blood coming down from between his teeth. His voice came out low, layered over itself as he growled, “Better to eat you with.”

The weight on your chest moved, and you looked down. There was a pile of gore, gently beating.

“A gift?” you asked, your voice detached and distant.

He leaned down to your ear, “Our heart.”

An interesting word choice. Not “my”, not “your”. Our heart.

His tongue slid over your cheek as he pulled away, leaving behind a dark, wet trail over your face. Your arms finally responded to your demands as you reached up to try and keep him in place. But your hand slipped right through him, instead landing right on top of the messy heart on your chest.

It felt strangely furry, and made a very confused “mrrreep”.

You opened your eyes with a gasp. No Bartolomeo, no heart, just Luffy wondering why you awoke him from his sleep. You pushed yourself upright, surveying the room.

Nothing. No one. Just you and the kitty.

And it was uncomfortably hot in your bedroom.

You groaned and gently nudged Luffy off of you, stretching as you rolled out of bed to find a box fan. There was no way in hell you were going to try messing with the AC this late at night. You retrieved the fan from the hall closet, flicking on the light in your room as you dragged it over to the window to the fire escape. Before you could push it open, something on the floor caught your eye.

Flecks of rust, dirt, and chipped paint were scattered around near the window. You groaned, crouching down to look at them a bit closer. You knew you vacuumed just the day before, so where the hell did the stuff come from?

You got your answer when you opened the window and bits of rust shook loose, littering the carpet.

It occurred to you that you’d never opened this window before now.

Everything you had been trying to ignore, everything you thought had been resolved, all of it came flooding back, pouring in from the window and sending debris to your floor.

Someone had been in your bedroom. And the fire escape was how they got in.

#i'll fucking digest you one kiss at a time #bartolomeo #bartolomeo x you #one piece x reader #bartolomeo the cannibal #reader insert #ifdyokaat #bartolomeo one piece #yandere #yandere!bartolomeo #PHEW!!! It's done :3 #Bellamy won the poll so -- he gets his ass beat #i tried to go for something between his pre- and post-timeskip personality -- i know he gets better after dressrosa buuuuut #i needed him to be a jerk again xD #also this chapter felt a little vignette-ish which... i couldn't really do much about tbh #hopefully it still reads well n///n;#ALSO BIG THANK YOU TO MAH BF HE HELPED ME W THE FIGHT SCENE #he knows too much xD

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bladesbreastmilk · 1 year ago

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Y'ALL OUR MAN LOOKS GORGEOUS OMFG IM IN LOVE

#honkai star rail #mah baby gurl blade #blade hsr #honkai blade #blade x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr x male reader #hsr blade

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 years ago

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You were sitting side by side on a railroad bridge. The calm running of the river below you and the singing of birds echoing in the surrounding woods were the only sounds. You swung your feet and took a drink from your canteen. Beside you, Daryl’s fingers tugged absently on a loose thread near his knee. He glanced over at you as you sighed and closed your canteen again.

The afternoon was wearing on and you closed your eyes as a cool breeze kicked up and rustled your hair, kissing your skin. It was a welcome relief from the heat and humidity. “Thanks,” you said, turning to catch Daryl’s blue eyes, which were still fixed on yours. “For coming. I was afraid of being alone today.”

Daryl nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. His eyes were tugged involuntarily to the thin scar on your neck, the one you’d gotten a year ago to the day. His stomach still twisted at the sight of it—at how bad things had gone and how much worse they could have... “Ya ain’t gotta thank me for that. Just say the word and I’m wherever ya need me.”

Your lips curved in a subtle smile and Daryl’s heart jumped in his chest. His face flushed, and it had nothing to do with the heat of the day. “What would I do without you, Daryl?” you said. “Promise you’ll stick around? Please?”

He gulped a little nervously, taking in the earnest and warm look on your face, the brightness in your eyes. He nodded. “Promise as best I can.”

Prompt: “Thanks for coming. I was afraid of being alone today.”

#protective!daryl #soft!daryl #omg mah heart #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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shhh-secret-time · 11 months ago

Note

We need more of that Soulmate stuff! Can we get one with Stan??? I've such a weakness for our goth boy!

Oh and thank you for writing gn! It's such a small thing but it makes me feel good to read! 🫶

Of course you can! I love Stan and soulmate shit so literally any excuse! I'm glad my writing makes you feel good darling!

Warning: Strong Language, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, over use of the word skin and flesh, and a single shit excuse for poetry

Pairings: Stan x GN!Reader

The most annoying habit Stan had was chewing his bottom lip, so many things of lip balm used to try and repair his lips. Little discarded tubes of flavors that were the foulest thing he'd ever tasted, it was Kyle's idea, if it tasted bad maybe he could trick his brain into stopping the habit.

The second annoying habit was drumming his fingers on his desk, he was especially bad about it when he was younger. That was before the little marking on his skin started popping up. Little words and doodles on his forearm dancing on his skin. At first it freaked him out, he was fourteen and these weird little tattoos were popping up on his skin and then disappearing.

The third annoying habit was never learning to not go to his father when he didn't understand something. One would think after it backfiring so many times Stan would learn to go to his mother when he had questions. To his credit Randy did give him an answer. It just led to a whole ordeal of him telling the entire fucking town that his son has a soulmate and that his son was just like him when he was fourteen. It was embarrassing and he hoped that whoever his soulmate was didn't hear it.

Apparently, the little doodles and grocery shopping lists on his forearm was his soulmate’s handwriting and boy did they love to draw on their arm. Stan would be out in the football field practicing his throws when he'd feel the light brush of the pen across his arm. Which always lead to him fumbling a pass. Maybe he had to thank his coach for all the times he yelled at him because it was after one practice that he finally started marking on his arm back.

At first it was just to try and get whoever his soulmate was back. Taking a sharpie to the underside of his forearm, the big blocky letters spelled S-T-O-P. He remembers tugging down his sleeve with a grumble, thinking he would be free from the torment. Little did he know this was a declaration of war.

You were sitting in the science lab when it happened, working on your assignment when the letters appeared. Up until then you never saw something like that happen, so when it did you nearly dropped the beaker. Soulmate or not, who did they think they were to send such a passive aggressive message?! You excused yourself and hurried to the bathroom, ignoring the look of your partner. You pulled up your sleeve and glared down at bright silver words.

Stan furrowed his brows as his eyes scanned over the new message.

"Who uses a silver sharpie?! Are you kidding me?!" You hissed.

Well, you couldn't take that sitting down, could you? Your hands dug into the pockets of your pants to pull out the pen you always kept on you. Dragging the tip of the cheap pen across your skin, you wrote your little soulmate a loving note.

"Eat shit."

The font lit a fire in him as his eyes narrowed. Stan took the lid off the sharpie and drew a crude middle finger on his palm. Once he was satisfied with it, he pulled his gloves back on, maybe his soulmate didn't have gloves and would have to deal with that.

From then on Stan carried that damn sharpie everywhere. He would be in the middle of talking with his friends about something when he'd feel your words sketch onto his skin again. He would stop even if he was in the middle of something just to read whatever rude thing you'd come up with. It was Kyle who finally approached him about it.

"Dude you're gonna get ink poisoning." Stan almost missed the way Kyle scolded him, to focused on writing.

"I don't care Kyle! They're insulting the Broncos!" Stan hissed back.

"How did you even get on that topic?" Kyle rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I-...I don't know but I'm not going to just let them shit on my favorite team!" He looked up towards his best friend, Kyle could see the fire behind those blue eyes and almost chuckled.

"This person is supposed to be your soulmate, ya know? Like your forever partner."

"I know that! But it's like they know exactly what to say to get under my skin!" Stan groans as he caps the sharpie and slumps back against the park bench. "I mean...was it like this for you? You found yours recently."

The red head raised a brow at his friend, the question catching him off guard. "Hm...no? We got along pretty much instantly. Guess it helped they found me before I found them?"

Stan watches as Kyle presses a thumb into his palm. A warm smile plays across his lips as he rubs the golden letters. Rumors of Kyle and his soulmate spread quick, they were the talk around campus for a while much to Kyle’s dismay.

"But I get what you're feeling."

"You fight with your partner like this?"

"What? No! Not yet at least...I mean it's bound to happen eventually, but I mean the thing you said about their words getting under your skin." Kyle shook his head making the green straps on his head swing back and forth. Before Stan could respond Kyle held up his hand and continued. "They'll text me or say something to me and it just...feels like my heart is going to explode. The first time we kissed it felt like my skin was on fire, it felt intense. So... I think that might just be a side effect of having a soulmate. Everything is kinda turned up to eleven."

Stan just sat there and listened to him. He pushed his hands in his coat pocket and squeezed the sharpie, letting the words sink in. Leave it to Kyle to make him think about it more. Stan responds with a long sigh.

"... Maybe."

"Hey at least you can talk to yours. We had to go based off each other's thoughts...it's hard keeping my thoughts in control."

"Yeah, I don't know if I could live with that, probably end up cutting my hand off." Stan chuckles and looks down at his forearm.

Maybe he could swallow his pride a little and just take it easy. It certainly made sense now why your words were having such an effect on him. If everything was turned up to eleven like Kyle said, then maybe he needed to take a step back and try something else.

It wasn't until he was sitting in class bored again that he got the idea. He even went out of his way to use a different marker, one with a smaller point. Pressing the tip to his arm, he watched the bright blue ink bleed into his skin. Stan didn't really know what to write, it was hard to go from writing stupid insults and drawing crude things to something just mundane. He pressed his lips together and stared hard at the little blue dot until his hand started moving. Stan wrote best when it was in song lyrics or his poems.

Watercolor running down my skin.

It's supposed to feel cool but all it does is make my head spin.

You get under my skin like fire.

The tip of your pen bleeds me like sharp wire.

He pulls back and looks down at it with narrowed eyes. Stan can already feel the warm embarrassment spreading over his face and up to the tip of his ears. Quickly pulling down his sleeve again, he tried to push it out of his mind for the rest of the day. An hour went by before he felt that all too familiar feeling, it was something he was getting used to at this point. He looked down and his eyes widened in awe.

"Did you write that? It's good."

No smart-ass comment about his poetry. You didn't make fun of him for putting his words in a silly simple format. You just complimented it. Stan could feel his heart speeding up as he re-read the small sentence under his poetry over and over again.

"Yeah. I'm not good at communicating normally."

"Poetry is just easier for ya huh?"

"That or music."

"Really? You play?"

Stan grinned down as he started running out of room on his forearm, having to move to the surface of his arm now. His face getting closer to his skin as he hunches over his desk to keep writing.

"Yeah, guitar and a little bass. They're kinda similar."

"That's cool!"

"Do you play any?"

And soon his entire arm was covered in back and forths. Talking about music to whatever else the two of you could come up with. He learned about all your hobbies just as you learned his. You started keeping a little journal of all the poems he wrote you, all the little songs he'd write down across his. It was when you'd wake up to a poem, first thing in the early mornings. The sunlight caressing your entire body, wrapping you up like a hug.

The poems spoke of things like how he was excited to talk to you throughout the day. Asking you if blue was starting to become your favorite color. Did you think of him when you saw it? Things like how he was so happy to see you respond and that he thinks of you every time he strums on his guitar. You were just thankful he couldn't hear your heartbeat or see the way he made your face flush.

But there was that longing to finally see this person. You learned your partner was a he but the thought of asking him his name didn't seem to matter. It was like you'd known him your whole life, and because of him blue was starting to become your favorite color. So one night as you sat at your desk, you decided to just go for it.

"Hey. I just thought about how I don't know your name!" You had to move to writing with your non-dominate hand which made your handwriting a little shaky.

You giggled at the little doodle that came up next to your statement. It was a horrible drawing of Kirby pointing at the writing, but his face was scrunched up in disgust.

"I dunno. Didn't think about it."

You waited after reading his sentence, thinking he was going to continue. Nope. Nothing.

"Well, what is it??" You asked as you doodled next to the Kirby, a little frog wearing a hat joining the fray.

"It's Stan."

"What?! No way!"

You circled Stan's name with your pen and drew a bunch of exclamation marks. You knew a Stan; he was the quarterback at your university! He had three little friends that always seemed to follow him! He was the kid who brought a guitar to-

He brought a guitar to class sometimes.

He wrote in his notebook when he thought no one was watching.

He made your heart beat and the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

He was your soulmate.

Did he even notice you like you did him? Did he know you sat across the room from him in history? Or that you were his soulmate? Of course he didn't! He doesn't even know your name.

You break out of your spiraling thoughts when you see the blue ink across your skin again. "Pretty sure way. That's the name my mom gave me."

"You know what I mean dick! I know you! You're Stan Marsh! You live on that farm that's like an hour away from here in South Park!"

There was nothing for a while. Maybe you shouldn't have said all that, but the faster your heart sped the faster you wrote. You didn't think to slow down until you looked back at how hastily everything was written.

"You go to my university, don't you?" He asked.

"South Park college. Go cows." You doodled a little cow next to the response hoping to relief a little tension.

"Go to Stark Pond in an hour."

"What?! Dude it's like 6:30! I can't just leave this late!"

"I wanna meet you and I don't wanna wait. I'm already in my truck."

You could tell from the way the letters were spaced out and slanted. It was almost gibberish, gibberish that had your blood pumping. In a manner of seconds, you learned the name of your soulmate and you were actually considering going out. It would be around seven thirty before he actually showed up. You bit your lip and looked over at your car keys but only for a moment. When the thoughts of how he wanted to meet you were so bad he was willing to drive out again to see you. To see who you were. The fear of disappointing him did cross your mind, what if he hyped you up too much.

You knew Stan Marsh. You knew how pretty he was and how he could make a group of people follow him. You knew he had those beautiful baby blue eyes that seemed to go forever.

God you loved the color blue.

With a huff you grabbed your keys and put on some decent clothes. You waited at Starks Pond for that hour, you could have stayed home to wait but your anxiety wouldn't let you. Not the way your heart was still pounding, every minute that passed felt like agony. Pulling your jacket closer to your body, you almost leapt out of your skin each time a car would pull up; only to be disappointed when anyone that wasn't Stan got out or drove off.

When finally, a beat up brown truck pulled up next to yours. Your breath hitched when you saw movement, breathing out when you saw a familiar pair of red shoes. A blue hat that looked well-loved over shaggy black hair.

He was standing by the water looking around, he looked as nervous as you felt. Just when he thinks you're not coming do you finally find the strength, the feeling, in your legs to step out of the car. The cold air nipping at your skin, it felt like ice right now from the way your skin set ablaze. The sounds of your footsteps crunching against the snow makes him look back and his jaw drop.

"It's you."

"It's me." You respond with a little smile, your voice barely above a whisper.

Stan takes the initiative and meets you halfway, the two of you meeting on the worn out walking trail. It isn't until he steps into the moonlight that you realize he's not wearing his jacket, but you notice the ink going up and down his arms.

"You actually came. I didn't think you would."

"I almost didn't...it's cold you know." You shoot him a little smirk, changing the tone in your voice to a lighthearted tease.

Stan let's out a breathy chuckle, you can see the little puff of air that escapes his lips. He takes a step closer towards you. You can feel the heat coming off him, radiating around your body. "Yeah guess it is. Forgot my jacket."

"Were you that excited?"

"Are you kidding? Yeah! It's not fair you knew what I looked like!"

And when you giggled Stan felt himself walking on air. The way you made his heart soar from that alone. He'd never write something funny on his arm again, if he had something funny to say you'd hear it just so he could hear that laugh.

"Then I hope you're not disappointed."

"Wh... what? Of course I'm not disappoint- You have no idea how much I'm trying not to throw up right now."

"What?!"

"No! Hold on! That came out worse than I meant! I mean I'm nervous because- because you're so beautiful and-....and I'm fucking this up, aren't I?" You watch the panic in Stan's eyes as he scrambled to try and find the right words.

You broke his mind when you laughed again. If your hands didn't come out to take his he would have bolted, ran off to find hole to crawl into. Instead, your hands anchor him to that spot, your smile brings him back down just for him to get lost in your eyes.

"You do suck at communicating." You whisper and press a kiss into his cheek.

"Uh...yeah well...you're the one kissing me. So ...I must be doing something right." Stan mentally kicks himself for that comment, but he can't help that little competitiveness in him.

Stan doesn't let you get whatever you're about to say out, his lips meet yours eagerly. He knows whatever you're about to say is only going to make his face turn a deeper shade of red. When he pulls away and sees your eyes are shut and your lips still slightly parted from the kiss, he knows he's already in deep. Especially when you cupped his face and brought him in for another.

Everything felt like being turned up to eleven. Everything felt right. You felt right being in his arms like this. He never wanted to come down from this feeling and he was sure you felt the same.

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