#citrus orb

[pridebicons]

aroace citrus pride icons

requested by anon

like/rb if using + credit

[centurymage]

I've been working on this for quite a while,but I've finally opened a RedBubble!

I got boba,cubes of strage origin, girls and funky orbs with things inside with more stuff coming soon!

(Some things come in multiple item/color variations too, take a look!)

Redbubble

[astudyincontrasts]

Adding onto it even more

He would literally fucking ASCEND if you gave him a ripe orange

One Bite into that and brothers gone

[greenthatsblue]

It's orange time in this joint baybee

Huzzah!

.

[fanaticsnail]

3, 2, 1 - Part 3 of 3 (Smut)

3, 2, 1 Navigation here, main Masterlist here.

Word Count: 6,376

First time writing smut for Sanji. Look at him, isn't he just the sweetest?

Warnings: Smut, p in v, afab!reader, without plot (plot in former 2 chapters for context), minors do not read - this is not for you, eating, sex, mutual pining, longing, love, friends to lovers, flirtatious!reader, Sanji is not the problem - the reader is. Sanji brings a bit of desperate 'sub' energy.

Would like to thank the creator of this playlist, but particularly "love me harder" and "what it is" were the two that drove this one.

The sink was filled to the brim with warm, soapy water; the fragrance of citrus and eucalyptus filling the air as you busied yourself cleaning dishes and the benchtops of the small suite Nami managed to acquire for you.

Thinking you needed to produce a case, and preparing yourself to strong-arm your captain to have you remain in town for more than two days, it took little to no effort to plead with him that Sanji needed time to rid himself of his withdrawal symptoms.

“Captain, if I may seek to implore-,” you began, only to have the captain halt your words.

“-I don’t get all those fancy words,” he shrugged with a broad smile, “but if you’re asking for us to stay here a bit longer to have Sanji get better, that sounds good enough to me.”

You dove your hands deep into the water, wincing slightly at the elevated temperature before retrieving a bowl from beneath the surface. Running a damp sponge around the surface to rid the ceramic dish from any remnants of the bone broth you made for Sanji, you placed it upside down on the wire rack beside the sink to air-dry.

As you began to dive your hands below the water once more, you felt two forearms lace themselves around your shoulders and a warm chin and cheek nuzzle against the left-hand side of your neck. You released a breathy sigh and shut your eyes as you felt the body behind you relax itself into you, clasping your shoulders and upper arms within his firm grip to cage you against him.

“Awake at last, handsome,” you addressed him, lulling your head backwards to nestle against his messy, blonde hair, “how did you sleep?”

“As well as can be expected,” he muttered against your shoulder, pressing his lips in a gentle kiss against the exposed flesh of your collar. You could feel how warm his face was, indicating he may not yet be well enough to engage in frivolous activities with you as the nicotine-dependency was still fleeing from his bloodstream.

“Sanji,” you groaned in a warning tone, “you’re still fighting the fever.”

He hummed against you in response, opening his mouth to suck at your exposed neck; your eyes fluttering open in response. You brushed your arms on the hanging hand towel below the sink to rid the suds from your hands, drying your clean hands against the plush material.

“Sanji,” you again reprimanded him in your tone, “get back into bed.”

His tongue darted out to flick over the tender area he formerly relentlessly attacked with open mouthed kisses. A groan fled from your lips at his ministrations, brows creasing together as you mentally fought with yourself to hold back your response to his shameless caress.

“Bed-,” you ordered him, bringing your arms up to break his grip from around your shoulders, “-now.”

“Only if you join me,” he smirked against your neck. You turned in his arms, placing your hands against his hips and attempting to nudge his body away from your own, “and I think I’m all done with the fever. I feel fine.”

Your frown deepened against your brows as you looked up into the eyes of your blond crewman; half-lidded, glazed and playful eclipsing the illness lingering below. He was clad in pale, grey sleeping slacks and neglected to equip his chest with a shirt upon his exit from the bedroom. His drowsy and charming smile clung to his lips as he gazed into your eyes baring nothing but adoration into your orbs.

“You need your rest,” you scolded him, nose reaching up to brush against his own, “I still think you’re not well. It takes anywhere between three to ten days for the dependency to be completely rid from your body; and we’re now only just falling in the third.”

“You’re saying,” he angled his chin downwards and looked up at your face through his eyelashes, “you’re going to have me wait another seven whole days before you’ll kiss me?”

Your brows rose from their scolding expression to arching your left brow up in confusion, “Honey, I’m just waiting for you to be rid of this fever before I get to make you sweat.”

A broad smile fell over your lips as you relished in the tint pooling the cheeks, tip of the nose and ears of the man in front of you. His eyes were wide, jaw slack and his breath hitched as it caught within his throat; prompting his Adams apple to bob as he processed your words.

“And now that you’re all flustered, I’m not going to be able to get an adequate reading from the thermometer to see just how much longer we’ll need to wait,” you shook your head, clicking your tongue at him in a chastising manner. His blush deepened as he turned his face away from you to hide his shame from you.

Chasing his retreating cheek with your palm, you brought his gaze back to your own with a small shake of your head again. You smoothed your hand over his cheek in a gentle caress before dancing your fingertips to his forehead to check over his brow for a rise in temperature and the gathering of sweat. You felt the heat remaining against his forehead, a reminder that the battle was not yet over with his fight against nicotine addiction and truly ridding the chemical from his body; while contemplating whether the elevation was from the flush of desire you withdrew from him.

“Now get back to bed,” you shooed him, drawing your hand back from his forehead and falling it against his chest with a gentle shove.

“Embrasse-moi,” he whispered, leaning his head downwards with his eyes falling closed. (Kiss me).

“Not yet,” you push again on his chest to have his body fall away from you. He whined, a pout falling to form against his lips.

“Juste un petit bisou?” he asked you with a shaken breath, a small whimper pulling within his throat. (Just a small kiss?).

“Sanji-,” you groaned at him, collecting his chin in your hand to angle his gaze into your own eyes. You floated your gaze between his two grey orbs, briefly falling to his lips before rising them back upwards again.

“Oui, mon cheri?” he teased you with his tone, stooping lower as your firm forearm began to slip and fall under the spell his mother-tongue was holding over you. He arched his chest into your hand, your forearm bent back to collapse in of itself against your own. He tightened his arms around your shoulders and drew himself closer to you, cradling you against his broad chest.

“If I promise to give you a small kiss and tuck you in,” you whispered, yourself looking away from his gaze now, “will you please try to rest?”

A small raspy growl fled from his throat as he reluctantly halted his advance of you.

“Do we need to set the timer for the small kiss?” he asked, his voice almost seeming small and desperate in his question. You giggled in response, falling your hand from his chest and unlacing yourself from within his arms. Reaching up to clasp his fingertips within your own, you rubbed your thumbs over his knuckles to sooth him.

“I’ll do you one better,” you smiled at him, “it’s nearly the evening. I’ll finish the washing up and I’ll come and join you.”

His eyes brightened; the hope from his romantic soul spilling from the crevasses of his heart depicted through his beautiful expression. His lips curled into a warm smile, a small sigh falling from his nose as he slouched his posture against your leading hands.

“You’ll sleep with me?” he cooed at you with his eyes glittering with hopefulness, “instead of the couch?”

Over the past two nights, you had opted to sleep on the couch to give Sanji the space he needed to rid himself of his withdrawal symptoms. He desired to have you warm his bed beside him, but you advised him of how his waking and sleeping hours would differ as he fought the fever. You first opted to sleep on the floor, before deciding to sleep in the next room over to best support him from afar. The crew had also splashed out their berry to purchase rooms in other inns to better ready themselves for future travel, leaving you being the sole carer for Sanji’s physical and mental wellbeing as he navigated the illness.

“I’ll lie with you until you fall asleep,” you nodded at him, walking hand in hand towards the single bedroom, “and then I’ll return to the couch to sleep alone, just so you can have the space to-.”

“-please,” his words halted your steps, prompting you to turn towards him, “please, I’ll behave.”

You felt your heart soar at his words, warmth spreading to your chest and rise to your cheeks. His head hung lowly, shoulders slouching further in the vanquishment of his prior playful expression.

“My love,” you began, stepping your body closer to him, “it’s not you I’m worried about misbehaving. Again-,” you released his left hand with your right and brought it to cup his chin and jaw, “-you need to get completely well again first. I want you returned to your prime.”

You brought your lips up to graze his cheek, almost gracing his clean-shaven cheek with a kiss as you drew it towards his ear; “you’ll need to be for what I have planned for you. I want you writhing,” your lips caressed the lobe of his ear, “I want you breathless,” your tongue flicked the shell of his helix, feeling his breath hitch in his throat again.

“I want you gasping for air beneath me; groaning for me, pleading for me,” you bore your teeth, collecting the corner of his jaw in a small nip; “it’s not you that’s the problem, love, it’s me.”

His breath caught further as he seemed to hold it within his chest as he processed what you were explaining to him.

“Honey, I want you reciting my name as your personal mantra, writhing and fanatical,” your lips ghosted his stubbled jaw, teeth grazing the flesh, “praying for me to grant you your release as I finally get to your pretty coc-.”

His lips fell against your own, his body caging you against the wall before you managed to make it to the bedroom to tuck him in. Your squeak of shock fell from you at his dominance, his strong arms releasing your hands from within his palms as he wove them into your hair. A feral groan fell from his lips as he levered his pelvis against yours to pin you in place as his hands roamed your body: first falling to cradle your neck within his palms. As his hands travelled lower, grazing briefly the curvature of your breasts, his lips fled from their place against your own down to your chin and lower still to your neck.

His fingertips traced the hemline of your pants, giving a gentle tug with a breathy whimper against your neck.

“Please,” he begged in a gruff and breathless moan against your sensitive flesh, “I’m better, I promise. I need you.”

Wrapping his left arm around your waist, he continued to trace your lower abdomen with his fingertips. You sighed, bringing your arms to circle his neck; lacing your fingers within his hair as he pleaded with you further. Uttering promises of clarity and begging to give into your desires falling from his lips, you tugged his hair back to arch his neck backwards to have him look into your eyes. His breath caught in his throat, hanging onto his next moment like a dying man approaching the gallows.

“You need your rest,” you whispered, gazing into his blown out pupils; dilated with lust and desire.

“I just need you,” he confessed in a similar breathy tone to your own. You both hung in pregnant silence, pants of desire falling from both of you as you gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Do you feel in control? Fully yourself?” you asked him, air of seriousness and concern falling from you.

“I do,” he admitted with a small nod, eyelids flittering at your thoughtfulness, “I’ll do the washing up in the morning if it means I can have you in my arms that much sooner.” He constricted his pelvis into your own further, earning an unwithheld moan in response to his grind against your core. He continued to hold you gaze, eyes darkening further at your vocal expression.

“Sanji,” you gasped his name in a desperate whisper, prompting him to surge himself forward to launch into a tirade of frantic and heated kisses pressed feverishly into your cheeks, lips and neck.

Each desperate kiss, every heated exchange, and stolen caress expressed between the two of you over this past week washed over your memory as Sanji continued his diatribe of possessiveness against your face, skin and body. His hands moved on muscle memory alone, clutching at you as if you were a cold glass of water dripping with condensation to quench and satisfy his thirsting lust for you.  

Your lips parted as another gasp fell from between you as he stole your very breath with his lips returning to meet with yours. Where once his lips held the nicotine induced fragrance and flavour of cigarettes, you found only the taste of spearmint toothpaste in its wake. You giggled at the thought, noting he must have prepared himself to hold you true to your prior promise of entanglement once he shook the fever from his body.

Tilting your head, you chased his jaw with your chin to push his body away from your own. A stifled, confused groan fled from his lips as you broke from his kiss; only to have his confusion obscured by joy at you taking him by the wrist to return him to the bedroom. You effortlessly turned him as his thighs knocked their backs against the firm mattress, his knees buckling beneath him as you pushed him by his chest to lie back against the bed.

Bringing your right knee upwards, you knelt beside his left hip as you brought yourself down to grasp his jaw. His hands fell to the backs of your thighs, groaning against your lips as you traced your right hand down his chest while anchoring yourself against the bed by your left hand. He hoisted your left thigh upwards to collect your entire weight arching flush against his pelvis.

He shuddered beneath your touch, your fingers gently tracing circles against his pectorals down to lay against his stomach. Trailing his hands upwards, he collected your ass within his broad hands and began to kneed the flesh, raking his fingertips against your hips and thighs as he guided you to rock and grind your clothed core against his hardening cock beneath his loose pants. His fingertips once again found the hemline to your own pants and began dipping beneath the material to test your boundaries.

In response, you backed completely away from him to sit upright on his lap. His eyes widened in panic at your retreat, his hands falling to your lower back to keep you pressed into his crotch as his breath quickened in pace.

“So desperate,” you chastised him with a smirk, “I’m not going anywhere, don’t you worry your pretty head.”

You giggled, reaching your arms down to collect the base of your shirt and pulling the material over your head and arms. He audibly breathed a sigh of relief and crashed his back against the quilted duvet of the bed as he watched your every movement. Although you remained covered by your bustier, you felt completely exposed beneath his piercing gaze as he raked his sights over your flesh. His jaw fell slack as a groan fled from his quivering lips; you biting your own lip in response and bringing your forearms up to shield yourself from his examining eyes.

“Stop gawking at me like that,” you chastised him, your right arm folding over your chest while your left hand ventured down to your thigh to cover your torso from his view.

“Gawking?” he immediately he sat upwards and collected your wrists within his firm grasp and brought his chin to your own to nudge your face upwards, “admirant, mon cheri. Admiring.”

His right hand ventured to your back, pinching the clasp between his thumb and forefinger; forcing the elastic to release the metal from its intertwined and locking state to spring your breasts from their bounds. You released a shocked giggle at his overzealousness, his face falling to your clavicle and pressing a small kiss against your collar bone.

“Can I admire more of you?” he asked, fingertips trailing to the straps of your bustier and teasing the straps atop your shoulders. You smiled and gave him a shy nod, his hands immediately dragging your straps down your upper arms. His palms were pressed against your skin, the heat from them radiating below against your flesh.

Holding his face still flush against your shoulder, you unwove your arms from the fabric to completely expose your torso to him. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder, his breath hitching in his throat as he memory-mapped the curvature of your breasts within his mind. Tossing the fabric beside the bed, his shaking hands ventured upwards to begin to mould, grasp and hold your breasts. His fingertips cradled the underside of your left breast as his thumb held you steady atop the mounds of your chest.

“Sanji?” you tilted your head down to watch his face as you addressed him, noting his eyes were completely fixated on your chest, “are you okay, love?”

Humming in response, he gave a reactionary squeeze of your breast to test the feeling beneath his palms. His tongue darted out to coat his drying lips with a thin layer of saliva, his mouth dry from his slackened jaw as he gawked at your breasts. He ran his thumb over your peaked nipple, your breath halting in your throat with a sharp inhale; his eyes fleeing from the flesh to seek out your own wide and surprised orbs.

“So beautiful, my love,” he praised you, flicking the stiff peak once more; another sound falling from your lips in response, “so sensitive.”

In response, you pushed on his torso to fall him back against the plush quilt; remaining sat above him and completely exposed to his wide eyes; glazing over completely as he witnessed the small bobble in your supple breasts.

“You’re meant to be the one left breathless, honey,” you smirked at him, lacing your right leg between his thighs and stooping down to toy with the hem of his pants. He gasped in response, his shoulders slumping against the duvet while his eyes remained fixated and fleeting between all of the many wonderful gifts you were presenting to him.

Your breasts, your hands, your words; it was almost too much for the blonde chef to handle.

“May I?” you asked him, gesturing with your eyes and nudging your chin to his pants.

“-Please,” he whimpered, his cock forming a large tent within his loose trousers. You giggled, tracing the outside of his shaft while toying with the drawstring hemline hanging loosely from his hips.

“I like it when you beg,” you confessed with an arched brow, “probably why I enjoyed our little game so much,” you giggled before you crouched lower onto your elbows; “do it again.”

His eyes widened further, his lip trembling and teeth chattering in anticipation.

“P-please,” he whined, hands reaching to stroke your upper arms in encouragement, “please, I need you. Please. Please.”

Your heart raced further at his pleading, lips parting and eyes harbouring a feral and predatory air as you began slowly inching his pants over the bones of his hips to reveal a small trail of short, blonde hair downwards towards the base of his shaft.

“Lift your hips, darling,” you ordered him, to which he immediately followed enthusiastically beneath you. Pulling the material over the curvature of his ass, you slowly raked the draw-stringed front of his pants over his cock; immediately slapping his abdomen with the tip before it stood alert and ready to receive further orders.

“Sanji,” you gasped at the sight, taking in each vein with absolute wonderment; his tip shiny with the amount of blood pooling to it, a small bead of pearly pre-cum spilling from his slit. You thumbed the drop with the pad of your digit and immediately brought it to your mouth. His eyes drew wide as you swirled your tongue around your fingertip to collect it, jaw slack further.

“W-what are you doing?” he asked you in a small whimpered breath.

“It’s like what you’re always saying. What was it again?” you brought your head over to his cock, circling the base with your index finger and thumb while placing your palm flush against his balls and holding it against his abdomen; “we don’t waste food?”

Slowly inching yourself forward, you collected the reddened and throbbing tip within your lips; flattening your tongue to the underside of his pretty cock to caress the frenulum with your pliant muscle. A squeaking whimper fled from his lips before he drew his right hand against his teeth, biting down to stifle his moans while his left hand scrunched the quilted duvet within his fist.

You sucked against his shaft, opening your throat to gulp more of his cock within the warm chasms to swallow down to the base; your nose brushing against your index finger as you took him completely into your mouth. Your throat began to contract and constrict as your lungs screamed to receive more air into them. The only hold over your inability to balloon your lungs is the complete fixation you had on the writhing and whimpering mess you were making of the man below you.

The sounds pouring from his lips as he continued to bite down against his hand to stifle the moans freely falling was the most exhilarating symphony to grace your ears. Everything about Sanji was beautiful; his eyes, his hair, his body, his cock, and the vocal projections you were syphoning from his throat.

You eased up as your vision became spotted, opting to swirl your tongue against the tip before bobbing slowly against his cock. You snuck a glance at him, noticing the deep furrow of his brows as he attempted to keep his gaze held against your own. His eyelids would flitter shut as he panted with the rhythm you set against grinding your mouth down his shaft and upwards to the tip.

The slick pooling against your underwear in empathetic pleasure was enough to drive your passionate advances against the chef with further fervour. You arched your back downwards, flipping your hair over your shoulder with your left hand to give Sanji a better angle to witness as his eyes reopened to watch your actions once more.

“P-Please,” he struggled against his own words to successfully articulate his desires, “please I need you. I need you so much. Please let me see you. Let me make love to you. L-let me bury myself into you. I can’t h-hold on, please-.”

His eyes were wide and frantic as he gyrated his hips, thrusting upward to meet your pace with breathy pants falling from his lips.

“Please,” he again implored as his movements betrayed him, “not like this, not like this.”

Although he was speaking those words aloud, you noticed it was not directed to you; but rather himself. As you made to pull away from his cock, you noticed the stammered and frantic thrusts and the twitch of his balls against his abdomen indicated he was too far gone to simply stop. Opting rather than to ruin his orgasm, you held the same matched pace to his thrusts as he thrust into your mouth from below you.

“I-I’m gonna, I can’t s-stop,” he sobbed, his breath hitching and right hand falling away from his lips to draw itself to your cheek. He made eye contact with you, losing more of himself within the thralls of passion as he noticed your playful glint within your eye as you took more of him into your mouth.

“P-please, can I-, I can’t-, I’m gonna-,” he stammered, chasing his high as he rutted into your face. His balls tightening to lay completely flush against his stomach as his pretty cock began to twitch in pleasure; the tip swollen and shiny within your mouth. You swirled the tip with your tongue once more; prompting a string of a mixture of French and English to exit his mouth as he shot ribbons of hot cum down your throat: “baiser, fuck, a-ah dieux-oh g-gods, th-thank you-thank you-u-thank y-you, m-merci, f-fuck-k.”

You noticed his panting breath, furrowed brow hidden beneath the blonde shield of his hair as he continued to gawk at you. His hips began to stammer as he rode out his strong orgasm against your face, his hand remaining cradled against your cheek and jaw as he did so. He threw his head back against the sheets, unlaced his scrunched hand against the bed sheets as you pulled away from his slowly flaccid cock as his cum was completely swallowed within your throat.

“I’m s-sorry,” he whispered, eyes shut as he drew his hands up to cover his eyes to shield himself further from your gaze.

“Hey,” you said, brows furrowing as you fell your body next to his, “look at me.”

He peered out from behind his hands, still remaining them shielding his flushed face from your own; “it wasn’t meant to be like that. I-I wanted to-.”

“-Again, it’s mostly my fault,” you giggled at him, pressing a small kiss against his knuckles, “I have been tormenting you for a little while now.”

Sanji groaned from behind his hands, his voice remaining muffled as he spoke words you couldn’t quite comprehend behind his palms.

“What was that, honey?” you asked him, tracing his fingertips against your own as you pressed feather-light kisses against his forearms; smiling against his muscles as he willed himself the courage to face you.

“I wanted to worship you,” he whispered, bringing his palm to your cheek and caressing your smiling lips. You pressed a kiss against his thumb as he traced your bottom lip with it.

“And I wanted you a writhing, begging mess beneath me,” you shrugged, your gaze focussing on his eyes while floating down to his lips, “and I assure you: I enjoyed every moment of the mess, down to the last second.”

He sighed with a small smile returning to his face. Smoothing over your hair, he tucked a strand behind your ear before trailing his index finger down towards your collar bone. He danced his finger downwards to trace over your breasts, travelling over the curve before ghosting over your peaked nipple before travelling it to your diaphragm with a small moan falling from between the both of you.

“Can I enjoy you now?” he asked you, fingers continuing to travel lower to toy with your hemline once more. You shivered against his touch, the quivering fingers nervously toying with your skin and dipping below the band of your pants.

“In what capacity?” you whispered with a small, warm smile falling to your lips.

“Just a taste,” he drew his face towards you, tracing your cheeks with his lips as he zeroed in on making first contact with a gentle kiss against your parted mouth.

Groaning against your lips, his pierced tongue darted out to softly caress your own; tasting his prior release over your palate. You drew your hand up to cradle his jaw within your hands as his fingertips dipped lower towards your core, alight and warmth with desire.

He rolled above you, his left hand caging you in beside your head as he drew his hand below your underwear and traced the outside of your crotch before dipping his fingertips against your glistening folds. Your muffled moan fell within his lips; your breath being claimed by the man above you once more as he circled around your sensitive clit before retracting his fingers entirely. He drew his face away from your own, a whine escaping your lips as you witnessed him placing his index and middle finger between his parted lips; tasting the collected arousal pooling from your desperate entrance.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you witnessed him taste your desire for him on his warm fingers, a breathy groan escaping him in satisfaction before he completely pulled himself away from your body. He drew himself backwards, kneeling between your thighs and pulling your pants and undergarments down over your hips; raising your legs vertically to pull them over your feet and discard them to pool on the floor beside your brasier. Tracing his fingertips over your ankles, he began to slowly drag them downwards to follow behind your calves.

Once he reached your knees, he opened your legs and drew his lips forward to place gentle and soft kisses against the inner skin of your left thigh. While holding your left knee within his firm hand and circling his tongue out to kiss your thigh deeper, his left hand continued to trail down to fall against the outer skin of your groin with his palm pressed flush against your glistening opening.

Spinning his expert hands, he pressed his palm upwards to keep the pressure against your throbbing clit as he teased your destitute opening with his index and middle fingers. Smiling against your thigh as you inhaled a whimpering sound through your teeth; he began scissoring his fingertips against your hole while driving the hard pressure against your clit had your mind fuzzy.

Continuing to trail kisses further up to kneel before you, he pulled his palm away and sighed at the sight laying before him. Without a further utterance falling from his lips, he dove himself forward and began flickering, licking flattened stripes against your slickened core with his talented and pierced tongue. A shriek left your lips as he suctioned his lips around your sensitive clit, his fingers returning to tease your entrance; testing your core by inching the tip of his middle finger thrust into you.

“S-Sanji,” you gasped while falling your head down against the plush quilt, his lips falling into a wide smile clasped around your sensitive bundle; his tongue swirling and flattening as he began to find an appropriate rhythm with his lips. He slowly began inching his fingers against your opening, the coolness of his metal ring adding to the sensation as he arched and hooked his fingers to find the underside of your clit as he stimulated it from above with his tongue.

He groaned against your glistening entrance, unclasping his lips from your clit and opting to drive his flattened tongue against it while inserting his second digit, stretching you with his expert fingers twitching within you. Arching your head up, you reached down and laced your fingers into his blonde hair; cradling his head against your core as you rode his face. He continued to swirl, consuming your pleasure within his hungry mouth as you felt the familiar coiling sensation of release forming within your abdomen. Your toes began to tingle as he beckoned your release with his two fingers curling against your inner walls, taunting you with his talented tongue.

You raked your eyes hungrily over his body, noticing his hips began rutting themselves needily against the mattress below his regrowing and desperately throbbing cock. Breaking away your chase, you allowed a small giggle to fall from your lips; prompting Sanji to halt his actions to look up at you with his brows furrowed into a puzzled expression.

“My darling,” you whispered while drawing his face away from your glistening core, “if you’re so desperate to bury your pretty cock into something, I have something better than the mattress.”

His face flushed with embarrassment, his eyes widening before attempting to look away from your teasing eyes.

“I was trying to make you feel good,” he whispered, your palm and forefingers ushering his eyes to fall back against your own.

“You were,” you smiled at him before taking your bottom lip between your teeth, “and you will again when you come up here.” You beckoned him with your unoccupied hand to ushed his torso closer to you.

Hitching his breath against your suggestion, you pulled him by his jaw to lean his body forward as he crawled to cage you beneath him. He slowly eased his hands below your shoulders to have you circle your arms around his broad shoulders, his stiffened cock quivering in anticipation as it raked along your thighs to position itself against your soaked opening.

“A-Are you sure?” he whispered, his lips brushing with the outer corner of your own as he allowed you one final moment to deny his advance. You smiled, turning your face to collect his lips with your own in a slow and open mouthed kiss, tasting yourself against his tongue. You laced your legs behind him over his hips, hooking your ankles within each other as you urged his powerful thrust closer to you.

“Yes,” you breathed out against his lips, his heartbeat rushing within his chest; thumping so loud you could feel its rapidity against your breasts, “Sanji, please fuck me.”

He halted his descent, pulling himself away from your lips and stared deeply into your eyes with his brows falling to a deep frown.

“I could never simply fuck you,” he urged you, swiping his nose against your own in a gentle brush of affection, “but I will show you how much I love you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he urged his tip slowly into you, a mutual groan of satisfaction fleeing from both your lips as he continued to press further and further into you. your walls stretching comfortably to accommodate more of his shaft before he completely bottomed out, his groin pressing flush against your own as he whimpered in desperation and pleasure.

“You’re so good, Sanji,” you praised him with a small gasp, “you fill me so well, like you were made for me.”

He cried against your shoulder, pressing his lips against your collarbone as he rocked his hips against your own in small thrusts to keep all of his stiff cock sheathed completely within your warm entrance. You felt the similar build, a continuation of his skilful ministrations returning to your abdomen as he began to rhythmically chase your dual pleasure with his thrusts and gyrations deep within your glistening walls.

His body caged you, you feeling completely secure beneath him as he seemed to sob in joy of finally being joined against you as your hearts began to beat within the same rapidity and frequency. You laced your fingers in his hair as he began to drive his hips forward with heavier and frantic rapidity. Cock twitching within your walls, prompting your opening to flutter around him, you withdrew his head from your shoulder and pressed your lips against his in a desperate kiss.

“S-Sanji,” you cried his name, toes curling from their position laced at his hips. He drew his head back to gaze into your eyes, pupils blown with lust as his hips began to sloppily stutter against your hips as you both felt the approach of your impending orgasms.

“Are you-,” he gasped out, searching for the words within his mind as he panted against the approaching pleasure, “I-I’m holding on f-for you. Please say you’re ready. Please.”

Uncaging his right hand from beneath your shoulders, he reached down between your bodies to search for your clit. As soon as his fingers traced the sensitive tip of your bundle, your eyes became white with the dancing lights of the arrival of your orgasm.

“Sanji!” his name fled from your lips as the tightly woven coil snapped, the slap of his hips against your inner walls becoming more frantic and deranged as he released your clit to relinquish a secondary release of his own stammering orgasm splashing deep against your cervix. Your own name fled from his lips along with a string of praise and appreciation: “je t'aime tellement, I-I love you. F-fuck. B-baiser. Merde, si beau.”

You both rode your highs, stealing kisses from each other as you allowed a mutual chuckled giggle of relief escape from your lips as you came down to the reality of holding each other close against the plush quilt. Remaining buried within you, he leant back to caress your cheeks between his palms as he admired your glow, eyes full of the relinquishment of lust to fall love within its wake.

“Worth overcoming the nicotine withdrawal and cigarette addiction?” you sighed in question, your own hands coming up to smooth over his hair as you pressed a small kiss to the tip of his nose.

“You are worth far more to me than dependency on nicotine,” he smiled down at you, tickling your forehead with his curtaining hair as it fell against you. You smiled up at him, your eyes closing as you felt him lean his brow down to meet against your own.

Unsheathing himself from within you, he rolled himself to lull beside you while continuing to trace your cheekbones and jaw with small circular caresses. Your eyes fell half-lidded as drowsiness from overexertion fell to you, Sanji’s face mirroring your expression to fall within a similar like.

“Thank you,” he whispered into you, reaching his arm beneath you to cradle you into himself while pulling the duvet to cover the two of you within the comfort of the warm sheets.

“For what, my love?” you asked him, wrapping your arm over his chest and tracing small circles over his back and shoulder blade.

“For everything,” he confessed, resting his chin atop your forehead as you both sighed out your final breath of consciousness before slumber claimed the two of you in its warm embrace.

Tag List:

@writingmysanity, @vespidphoenix (apprehensively)

[ladyhallen]

Raise a finger if you:

1. Had to manually type out the disclaimer on not owning the story of every chapter of every story

2. Understand what Ipod Shuffle Songfic challenge is

3. Had imagined out arguments/conversations with your OC/characters in the author notes

4. Have written about the Greenette or Bluenette or Pinkette.

5. Have written about Orbs. Cerulean orbs.

6. Had to use the citrus rating system

7. Had an author note in the middle of the story because you had to clarify something

8. Have used sites other than Wattpad or AO3 to start

9. Had to print out fics to read at home/school

10. Had to hand write fics in notebooks to type out later.

If You have Six fingers raised up and higher, congrats, You are an Old Fanfic writer. You've seen the wars.

[cheollipop]

a hazy evening

navi | taglist

pairing: kim hongjoong x afab!reader

w.c.: 1.8k

tags: smut, fluff, established relationship, reader is not gendered, they're both sososo in love

sharing the last of the earthy smoke, you bid farewell to the dying sun as the sweet scent of honey and citrus enveloped your senses.

warnings: cannabis use, both parties are high, cockwarming, couch sex, fingering (f), unprotected sex (👎🏼), creampie, it's really soft and slow, barely any dialogue, but they're so in love *breaks down*

A/N: thank you anonnie for requesting this, I really hope I was able to do your idea justice!! this, in my opinion, is the softest thing I've ever written. It left me feeling really warm and fluffy inside, so I really hope reading it will have the same effect on you! ^^

nsfw under the cut - minors dni!! 🔞

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

The room was much darker than it had been when you'd lit the first joint, golden rays of the dying sun filtering through the half-open curtain and casting shadows over the assortment of plants your boyfriend kept bringing home, the cool spring breeze ruffling their leaves where they sat decorating the windowsill. A show you didn’t recognize played on the TV behind you, but your eyes remained fixed on the orb of light kissing the horizon, dipping lower and lower until only a fourth of it remained to colour the sky a soft pink.

A puff of smoke distorted your view, the earthy aroma flooding your lungs and casting a fog over your mind. You adjusted your position, fitting your thighs tighter around Hongjoong’s hips and resting your cheek on his shoulder, nuzzling into the material of shirt before returning your gaze to the cotton candy sky.

Your hips moved on their own, grinding down on his fingers – stuffed inside you – with languid rolls of your hips. The pressure in your lower belly had been building for a while, his digits prodding at your g-spot and sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Hongjoong brought his thumb down on your clit, moving it in measured circles while he curled his fingers against your walls.

“Good?” He muttered over your skin, pressing soft kisses to your heated shoulder where the collar of your shirt ended.

“So good,” you whispered back, jaw slack and a pool of drool slowly expanding over Hongjoong’s shirt.

Smoke clouded your vision again, followed by the gentle press of the joint to your bottom lip, your mouth automatically closing around it. Hongjoong’s now free hand smoothed down your back, then slid back up to cup your nape.

“You’re close,” he stated, having felt the familiar fluttering of your walls around his fingers.

You nodded, inhaling the pungent smoke before taking the joint between your index and middle fingers. You kept your mouth closed, blinking unevenly while Hongjoong drove his fingers into you, catching the faint squelching of your arousal every time he pushed in. His thrusts were slow but pointed, roughly punching into the spongy spot along your walls and nearly making you sputter around the smoke in your mouth.

“R-right there,” you sighed, watching the air around you fog up.

Hongjoong had been building you up to an orgasm since the sun first left its locus in the sky, revelling in the soft whimpers he drew out of you. Bending his head down to press his lips to your neck, he peppered kisses over the expanse of your skin while your thighs began to vibrate around him. He flattened the pad of his thumb over your clit, rubbing it from side to side, occasionally brushing his blunt nail over the sensitive nub.

When you finally reached your high, it was as though you were free falling off a cliff, the wind blowing through your hair and open fields embellished with vivid flora spread out for miles under you. Your chest heaved as you blew out the smoke in your lungs, hips jolting as you rode out your orgasm on Hongjoong’s fingers. Butterflies swarmed your insides with every kiss he planted on your skin, his lips trailing up your neck to your ears to nibble on your lobe.

Hongjoong pulled his fingers out at the first pained mewl you released into his shirt, slipping the joint out of your limp hand and bringing it to his lips. His free arm wrapped tightly around your waist while he watched the joint grow smaller and smaller, sucking in the last of it before leaning forward with you in his arms to toss it into the heaped ashtray sitting on the coffee table.

Despite his tight hold, your hands flew to his biceps and gripped them so not to fall backwards. Hongjoong remained that way, looking into your equally lidded eyes while leaning over you. Once you realized that you weren’t going anywhere with Hongjoong’s arms around you, one of your hands eased off of his upper arm, instead finding its place over the side of his face. You weren’t sure if it was the weed slowing everything down, but the time in which Hongjoong’s head moved towards yours gave you a chance to admire the softness of his features – tired, love-filled eyes, barely open as they revelled in your presence before him, the tip of his nose a bright red with the remnants of a cold he hadn’t yet fought off entirely, and his smile, laced with unconditional infatuation, forever decorating his face when you were around.

Just like everything else around you, the kiss was unhurried, lazy. Hongjoong sucked your lips between his own before slowly letting them go, only to dive back in for more. The smoke he had been holding in his mouth dissipated into the air between you, until he slotted his lips against yours, parting them with his tongue and exhaling the last of the dying joint down your throat. You choked lightly, a breathy giggle escaping Hongjoong as he watched you struggle with inhaling the smoke, a hint of mischief weaved into the pleasant sound.

Slumping back against the backrest, Hongjoong pulled at your forearms to straighten you up on his lap. He simply sat there, admiring you once again. You wondered why that was: how could someone deserving of a place in the Louvre look at you with such a gaze – one filled with unending adoration, as though you had coloured the magenta sky peeking through the fluttering curtains with nothing but a broken paintbrush? Someone so caring, giving, loving, building you a spacious home within his heart and vowing to teach you the true meaning of love. Hongjoong was love, you were sure. The man who never stopped giving until you begged him to stop, and then gave you even more. Love, comfort, safety – it all came easily to him when you were the recipient.

He maneuvered you until his body was pressed against yours, his chest to your back while you lay on your side. The tips of Hongjoong’s fingers prodded at your mouth, gentle taps against your bottom lip until you registered the motion and allowed him access. Sliding the digits over your tongue, you whimpered at the taste of your arousal, licking over the fresh coat of nail polish on his ring fingernail. You could feel the tent in his sweatpants pressing against your lower back, reaching behind you release his cock from its confines. A soft hiss against your nape, painted nails digging into the skin of your thigh, and you were putty in Hongjoong’s hands, throwing your leg back and over his hip and leading his leaking member to your entrance.

A guttural moan ripped through Hongjoong’s chest when your warmth embraced him, his fingers slipping out of your mouth to wrap tightly around your shoulder. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your neck, pressing himself as close and humanely possible to your body and sheathing his whole length into your pulsing cunt.

You stared at the characters moving on the screen, your lips parted and airy mewls unknowingly escaping you as Hongjoong ground his cock into you, his head brushing over your g-spot with every roll of his hips. The room spun around you, and yet it remained perfectly still, it was loud but quiet, cluttered but empty, so you used up the last of your consciousness to fixate on Hongjoong and allowed him to take over your every sense. Your chest flushed at the tender kisses he peppered onto your skin, one arm wrapped under you and across your chest, the other draped along your side to hold your thigh over his hip, mindlessly squeezing at it. You wondered if it was possible to live in this moment forever, with Hongjoong cemented to your body, warming his cock between your searing walls.

Your eyes followed the actor’s movements, and yet your body relished the leisurely drag along your walls, fucking back into you only to draw out again just as slowly. Just as much as you enjoyed the heavy presence of his cock inside you, the unhurried pace that he’d built up to felt as though you’d smoked twice as much as you actually did. Your body felt weightless and it was as though a divine being had blessed you with his touch, delicate fingers gliding over and squeezing at your heated flesh, sending burning waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Despite his own arousal and desperation, Hongjoong’s hips maintained their sluggish rhythm, ramming his full length into your dripping cunt before pulling out until only the tip remained encased within your walls. The slide back in made your toes curl, his cockhead pressing into your sweet spot then dragging over it. Hongjoong would slip out of you periodically, gliding his cock through your folds and brushing over your swollen clit before pushing back into your cunt.

You felt him breach your entrance, and you were free falling once again, colours flashing across your vision and a whispered succession of Hongjoong’s name rolling off your tongue. Sliding his hand up your trembling thigh, his fingers reached your clit, pressing into the nub and tweaking it to drag out your orgasm. Hongjoong relished the tight squeeze around his twitching cock, your cunt clamping down on him as you rode out your high, your soft moans and whimpers inspiring his next song. He pumped his cock into you once, twice, before hot ropes of cum painted your walls white, grinding into you to milk himself of every last drop.

Your eyes fluttered shut, Hongjoong’s fingers withdrawing to rest over your hip, his chest rising a falling heavily against your back, hot breath blowing onto the slick skin of your nape.

The room was immersed in darkness, the white light from the TV the only source of illumination now that the sun had gone to sleep, diving behind the tall buildings and allowing the full moon to hang in its place. Tufts of grey clouds bedecked the onyx sky, glittering with a plethora of stars dispersed across its width.

They reminded you of Hongjoong’s eyes, so dark yet so bright, full of love, hope, dreams. You couldn’t help but lose yourself within them at times, peculiarly when he was letting you in on his next project, humming the melody he had put together in his mind, his fingers strumming the invisible chords of his guitar. A single look into those dreamy, glimmering orbs and you couldn’t help but believe that you would be more than content simply existing by Hongjoong’s side.

In the stillness of the room, enveloped within Hongjoong’s warm embrace, the dense fog clouding your mind lulled you to restful slumber, carrying with you thoughts of a future permeated by the sweet scent of honey and citrus.

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[tsukasatard]

Fuck all that stars and moons bullshit. Tsukasa is a scolding orb of light where all the planets circle around. His visions are gilded and soaked in citrus; gold drips from his skin, he is the finest cut of diamond that's ever constructed from earth.

Oh....

[galebrainrot2024]

GalexTav Enemies to Lovers Part 23

Part 22 | Read on Ao3 | Master List

Summary: Gale and Tav continue on their journey from childhood rivals, to meet again to destroy the absolute. Gale's POV. Mutual pining, sexual tension, we love to see it. Content is a bit mature, not explicit. Enjoy and thank you for reading :)

Tav had excused herself from the tent, slipping out with Wyll to leave Gale ruminating on their kiss. The blood still pooled between his legs and his skin was on fire. Gale’s cheeks burned and his mind reeled from their kiss, his body ignited and hungry in ways he had forgotten existed. 

It was such a severe whiplash he had trouble grounding himself, his body tingling and alight and starved for unholy entanglements. 

He pinched his bottom lip between his fingers and then brushed his thumb across, as if to mimic the sensation of her lips. He could still taste her, fresh on his tongue - it was like cranberries, tart yet sweet. The taste of the salt on her skin, how supple and delicate she felt beneath him. Gale shifted, trying to cool his illicit thoughts and groaned. Carnal hunger threatened to consume him. 

Gale stood dumbfounded and without a singular thought apart from her. Her smell lingered on his skin, a citrus and earthen blend - it filled the tent in her absence. She could not have fled quicker and he was convinced he had mucked up his chance. Perhaps he wasn’t as sensually skilled as he believed himself to be. But he had been told countless times, even pre-Mystra of his tongue’s exceptional talents. Besides, was she not the one who boldly expressed their desires, encouraged him to taste her? 

He moved in a trance, trying to put together a coherent meal while his thoughts still lingered on Tav. Gale groaned when he realized he added sugar instead of salt to the dry rub and pinched the bridge of his nose, irritated with himself and this foolishness. He was a grown man, yet the bodily appetites and emotions drowned Gale in a turbulent mess. He had forgotten how consuming such a yearning was. 

In a way, he was grateful she left. It meant he had time to think. 

Gale was confident they’d speak at dinner. When he began the cook over the fire, her noticeable absence felt akin to the throbbing of the orb. A lingering ache, a hunger for something long gone. His eyes flicked across camp and yeilded nothing. He asked his companions, and all offered the same half-hearted “haven’t seen her, sorry.” 

*** 

“Wyll said there was some canoodling,” Karlach nudged Gale, almost provoking him to drop his plate. 

“Karlach,” Wyll glowered at her and Gale felt warmth spread up his neck, grateful that Shadowheart and Astarion were eating on the opposite end of camp with Halsin, both interested in the Druid’s… skill set. 

“What?!” Karlach said, her mouth half full of food. “You can’t seriously think I was going to keep that to myself, did you? Especially because it’s Gale?” She smiled playfully in his direction and Gale snorted. 

“It seems I scared her off -“ before he could finish, Karlach cut him off. 

“Come off it,” she rolled her eyes and leaned forward, setting her plate down. “Listen, I may not know the details yet - I expect to soon enough - if Wyll is being half as truthful as he insists he is, it sounds like that kiss was hot.” 

“KARLACH,” Wyll’s complexion reddened and he darted his gaze to Gale, shrugging as if seeking forgiveness. 

“Wyll,” Gale began, “I wonder… did you happen to spread this information throughout all of camp?” Despite the evenness in his tone, there was an edge - what if Tav found out everyone knew, and assumed it was him that told? Would she think he were boasting, would she find it shameful? The thoughts balled and grew until he was convinced that’s why she was nowhere to be found. She wanted nothing to do with him. 

“On Balduran’s grave, I swear I only told Karlach!” Wyll shot her a scowl and she smirked. “I should have known she’d throw me to the wolves, though.” 

Karlach snickered and leaned back on the ground, “You should know better than to tell me something steamy about one of my best mates and expect me not to say anything. I’ve been telling Gale for weeks -“ she sat upright, looking sternly at him. “That there was something there. Finally. Glad you did something about it. How was it? Hot as you expected?” 

Gale shut his eyes, gritting his teeth. His entire face was hot, and he wanted to crawl out of his skin. 

“From the looks of it, it seemed Tav did something about it.” As Wyll said this smirking, Gale felt his stomach lurch and ran a hand over his face. Wyll laughed and patted him on the back, “Don’t worry Gale, we won’t tell anyone else. Might as well let us have a little fun with it, things are gloomy enough. We have to find the bright moments where we can. Even if it’s a little fun at the expense of our friends.”  

Gale sighed. “Ha-ha. Consider me thoroughly amused.” He returned to pushing the food on his plate, his appetite elsewhere. His gut twisted, panic creeping into his thoughts - what if he was so out of practice she couldn’t bear to face him? As Gale tormented himself, when he felt Karlach nudge his side and tilt her chin, indicating Tav slipping into her tent. 

Standing quickly, the bowl of food that rested precariously on his lap spilled onto the ground and Scratch bounded over, sniffing the contents for scraps. 

You bedded a goddess, how difficult could this be? 

**** 

He felt the eyes of his companions burning into him as he stood outside the tent, the flap shaking in the wind, a tiny dancer. He froze, unsure of whether to enter. Turning to steal a look at Karlach for encouragement, her insistent gaze ushered him forward. Gale shut his eyes and took a deep breath, “Tav?” His voice was hoarse so he cleared his throat, trying again. “May I come in?” 

Rustling. A crash. A quiet ‘shit,’ and then a breathless: “Just a second,” he felt his lips curl, amused by the frantic noises coming from within. When she poked her head out, her hair was mussed and her cheeks red. Gale felt his heart stop and his lips parted. Inhaling, he waited for her to speak. The silence was thick with words unsaid, and he felt his body inch closer to the opening where she was. “Sorry,” she finally managed. “I… just…” the way she stumbled over her words gave Gale the confidence he needed.

His shoulders rolled back and he took another step forward, leaning over her slightly as she rested in the threshold. “You just?” He murmured, pressing his lips together for a moment as he gazed down at her. Her pillow lips called to him and he felt the electric current move effortlessly between them. 

When he felt her deft fingers clutch his purple shirt, goosebumps spread across his body and obliged as she pulled him into her tent. 

The space was small, hardly large enough to hold one, let alone two bodies. Gale had to duck, the tent not near tall enough for him to stand in. Tav sat on her bed roll, and she patted the ground beside her. As he looked down at her, he was gripped with the need to have her. 

Perhaps this was a bad idea. Without breaking her gaze, he sat beside her, grunting as he lowered himself and rested back on his elbows. “The knees aren’t quite what they used to be, I’m afraid.” 

Tav tucked a stray hair behind her ear and tilted her head. “So...” 

Gale stared at her, wide eyed for a moment before breaking out into a low chuckle. “So.. you needed a moment to recover, I imagine, because the passion was too much for you?” He ran a hand through his hair and felt his skin pulse with desire when she blushed and laughed, the tone giving away her own desire. Every fiber in his being wanted her. “Imagine how stunned I was to find you don’t hate me, after all,” Gale murmured. The dim light in the tent cascaded across her features and made her dark eyes seem endless. He could barely make out the coloring of her eyes. 

A cocky grin crossed her lips, “Hate, desire… the frustration rears its head, one way or another.” She fiddled with her fingers and looked down. “I’ve never hated you, for the record.” 

Gale rose his brows and grinned, “Now I know you’re lying.” 

She flicked her gaze to his, her cheeks blooming crimson and she frowned. “I’m serious. Frustrated by you, absolutely - envious of your status at times, certainly… you just… oh you get under my skin in ways no one else does. It drives me insane.” 

He chewed on the side of his cheek and sat upright, shifting closer to her. He knelt in front of her, feeling the intensity of the air between them shift. His fingers reached out to cup her face and he felt her shudder in response to his touch. He caressed her cheek with his thumb and he searched her eyes - there was so much yet to be said, and such precious little time to tell her. 

Before he was able, though, she leaned forward and grabbed his face with her hands, pulling him over top her. Their lips met in a lecherous kiss, the kind that makes every cell stir with sinful arousal. Their tongues rolled together, dancing with one another and he hovered over her, not quite putting his full weight on top. Her fingers clutched at his waist impatiently and he felt his erogenous zone stir to life. He grunted, trying to pull back and she wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him closer to her until his stiff arousal pressed against her thigh. He groaned, pulling away from the kiss to press his face to her neck, breathing heavily. It took all of his self-control to pause and her frustrated whine nearly made him erupt with bliss. 

“Please, don’t be mistaken… I want this,” his voice was husky and low as he pulled back to gaze down at her, “I want you, more than I believe I can eloquently articulate at present,” he cleared his throat, acutely aware of her hips pressing up into his, wanting. Aroused and undone by the way she was looking at him. 

“So then have me,” she breathed as her leg hooked him tighter, and he felt his stomach knot. 

“Patience,” Gale said, brushing the hair from her face and planted a hot kiss against her neck. “Patience.” With the will he wish he did not have, he unhooked himself from her grasp, but allowed his fingers to teasingly stroll between her thighs, earring him a mewl. Oh, why did he have to have any sense of morality. 

When he went to stand, her gentle fingers wrapped in his. “Stay with me?” She whispered the question. He hesitated, enough for her to pull him back to her bed roll so the two were lying side by side and he felt her greedy lips brush across his jaw, her voice echoing in his ear. “Stay with me…” he sighed, tilting his head so her lips to continue to explore his neck. He knew he should leave. Needed to leave. 

“If you insist.. for a little while,” Gale’s voice was thick and raspy and he struggled to compose himself. He was grateful and still disappointed when she pulled back to rest against his chest. The warmth and weight of her body was alien yet so comforting. He had forgotten how nice such a mortal, simple thing could be. His arms wrapped around her naturally, holding her to his chest. 

They stayed there in one another’s arms, the silence stretching onward and Gale’s eyes grew heavy with sleep when her voice cooed to him. “When did you first learn?” Gale’s head tilt made her expand, “You could access the Weave, I mean.” 

His stomach sunk. “Earlier than I had memory.” He grinned crookedly, his eyes holding on to hers as if she’d slip away. She looked at him, enraptured. “Luckily, not so soon before.” 

Her soft smirk and fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest made the encasing around his heart continue to melt and beg to let her in. “One such memory stands out among the rest, though. I could have been no more than eight summers old. Elminster had come, after receiving more than a few worried letters from my mother about my unruly connection with magic. How she discovered his contact details, I’ve never learned.” 

“Mm, sounds familiar,” Tav said, rolling her eyes in jest. 

He rose a brow and grinned, “Did you not ask? Very well, I’d be loath to bore you…” 

“I’m teasing you, I want to know -“ she said, the words tender and wrapped him in warmth. It felt like the first bite of melted butter on a fresh bun. Exquisite. Her fingers brushed hair from his eyes and he trembled at her touch, cupping his hand over hers. “The child prodigy was being visited and….?” 

“Ah, yes,” he said, chuckling, “it was the summer before I was to attend Blackstaff. Elminster was sitting with my mother on the terrace when I came barreling into the room, eyebrows entirely singed off by the fireball I accidentally unleashed unto my neighbors rose bush.” 

Tav’s melodic laughter soaked his mind, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, it’s just… thinking about you without eyebrows.” 

“Ha,ha,” Gale said, though he was unperturbed and enjoyed her playfulness. “I’ll have you know, I was devastated. I wept, clinging to my mother’s apron and spilling out desperate apologies. The flowers were so beautiful and I hadn’t meant to destroy them…” his voice caught in his throat and he surprised himself. Her fingers against the hair on his forehead brought him back to reality and he sighed. “I had been reckless, and excited, yet to learn that wielding power carelessly  begets destruction. I had wanted to enrich the flowers, to somehow make them more glorious than they already were - I was almost angry at how lovely they appeared and could not figure how to conjure my own.” When he flicked his gaze to her, he could not place her look. “What?” He furrowed his brow, worried that he may have said something wrong. 

“That’s.. very sweet.” The tremble in her voice alluded to the emotion coursing through her, yet Gale was clouded with sleep and his own, unable to untangle her feelings. “I didn’t realize…” she blushed furiously and he tilted her chin to look at her. “What else is hiding in that vibrant emotional world of yours, I wonder?” 

He felt the heat lick up his neck, both embarrassed and elated by how Tav accepted his vulnerability. The two stewed in the silence until she sat up, and he followed. Although he ached to stay, he stood despite her protests. “We should both get some rest.” 

“I wish you would stay.” Tav insisted, reaching for his hand which he took graciously. 

He brought her hand to his lips, “I know. I promise, your patience will be generously rewarded. Goodnight, Tav.” And despite his bodily wishes, he left. 

[sofasoap]

On a date

Pairing : Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!reader

Summary: First date, fist kiss...? Prequel to Under the lemon tree 

Part of the Memory in a Fragrance series

Warning : T-M rating. Fluff.

Series masterlist

Master list

Double check. Triple check. Right. Deep breath in. Everything is there. Picnic mat, food in the basket.. Oh, can’t forget the bottle of ice wine that is sitting in the fridge… 

Kyle Garrick couldn’t remember when was the last time he was so nervous in his life. His first mission? His first school performance? He seriously couldn’t remember. But he knows he doesn’t want to mess up this date with you.

“Come on Gaz! I haven’t seen you for yonks!!! You’ll be in London for a while, right?” Will asked.

“Yes…?” Knowing his friend, he senses there is more than just a meet up.

“Good! Now there is a girl I want you to meet.”

Knew it.

“Look, I am not interested in dating at the moment…” And it is a valid excuse. The amount of time he spent being deployed, it wouldn’t be fair to whoever he will be trying to date. He has given up on the idea of finding his other half since he joined the force. “Give me a chance, trust me on this. You will love her. They are totally your type.”

“And how do you know who is my type?”

“I just know.”

Gaz shouldn’t have doubted his friend. He felt his jaw drop open as he landed his sight on you. 

“So this is the handsome man I've been telling you about!” Will laughed and smacked Gaz on the back, encouraging him to introduce himself.

“Um, hello, Kyle Garrick… but people call me Gaz.” Gaz wiped his sweaty hand on his pants quickly, before extending it out for a handshake.

He noticed your eyes widened for a second, a flash of surprise? Before returning the gesture and introducing yourself. 

The two of you hit off straight away. Similar taste in music, love in handcrafts and baking, and surprisingly well versed in video games, “older siblings.” you smiled. Oh, you have a beautiful smile. Now where has he seen that smile before…..

By the end of night, after another subtle shove and nudge from Will, Gaz summoned his courage to ask you out on a date. 

“There’s a beautiful lemon tree in the middle of the Botanic garden, surrounded by rose bushes, should we meet there?” You suggested.

You looked absolutely stunning in the white sundress, dotted with little lemon motifs.

“I can see a pattern here.” Gaz chuckled as he saw your eyes lit up as he brought out his mother’s signature lemon cheesecake from the picnic basket.

“I love lemon. Or anything citrus related.” You smiled as you thanked him for the slice of cake. “It reminds me of a pleasant childhood memory.”

Closing your eyes, rolling your head back slightly as you took a bite of the cake, letting out a satisfying moan. 

Gaz swallowed hard, face heating up, trying hard not to let his mind venture into unsavoury territories.  

He couldn’t resist. Leaning forward, cupping your face with both of his hands, staring into your eyes, silently seeking for permission. Dropping your sight towards his lips, and back up again before tilting your head up and meeting your lip with his. Gaz deepened the kiss as you shuffled yourself closer to him, looping your arms around his neck. The taste of lemon, wine and strong smell of roses from the rose bushes surrounding the both of you. He felt if there was a perfect moment in the world, this is it. 

“This might be a strange thing to say but… I felt like I have known you forever.” Gaz whispered as he broke the kiss, staring at your beautiful watery orbs. He felt no shame at all confessing his love for you. 

He has fallen hard. One date in, no, not even the end of the date and he knows you are the one. He’s not going to let you go. No amount of excuses will he let you slip through his fingers. That flash of surprise again in your eyes, just like the first night you two met. Battering your eyes a few times as you try hard not to let the tears fall, you replied with mystery words. “Maybe we have.”

The words Gaz said to Reader.. were pretty much exact same words my S/O said to me when we first met. Thanks for reading :)

Tag list ( I don’t know who to tag, I’m just tagging people that showed interest in my Gaz fics from last time also the fragrance list. )

@deadbranch

@kaplerrr

@homicidal-slvt

@voxyin

@lia0-0

@floral-force

@cr4shposts

@saltofmercury

@siilvan

@rileyslibrarian

@mistydeyes

@okayyadriana

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@jynxmirage

@nrdmssgs @schr-torta

[amethysts-tavern]

A Moment of Magic.

Gale’s Weave scene with Tav from his POV, ‘cause why not?

Gender neutral, good-aligned, red-headed bard Tav.

______

You catch a glimpse of Tav from across the campsite. Gods, they’re beautiful. You can’t help but notice how the firelight shines off their auburn locks and gives their cheeks a warm glow. They were smiling at something Karlach had said, playfully swatting at the fiery tiefling.

You had asked Tav to join you tonight after dinner. Maybe it will bring the two of us closer together. But to what end? You had been smitten with Tav from the moment your hands touched while you were on the other side of the malfunctioning portal - the gentle way their fingers grasped yours - then the way they cocked their head and smiled softly as you introduced yourself. As the days progressed, your affections for them only grew when you learned more about their kind nature, their eagerness to help those in need, and their fierce loyalty to their friends.

Maybe this whole idea is silly. It’s not like there can be any real future between us, seeing as I might explode at any moment. And what if they don’t feel the same? Am I prepared to feel that rejection again so soon?

Truthfully, it had been over a year since you and Mystra had called it quits, but sometimes it felt like yesterday. You missed her. Or rather, you missed what she represented to you. Calling up an illusion of her visage, you feel a momentary calm, only to be shaken from your reverie when Tav approaches.

“She’s pretty,” Tav says from somewhere behind you.

“Oh you startled me. I was miles away,” you reply, dismissing the illusion and feeling a bit embarrassed that you were caught looking at images of your ex-lover in front of the one you hoped to someday be a current lover.

You begin to tell Tav what magic means to you. How it’s everything you’ve ever known, ever wanted, and ask if they are interested in experiencing some of it for themself. They agree! You show them an easy spell - dancing lights. Really anyone could perform this spell with the right tutelage, but you’re hoping that Tav doesn’t know that. You watch and laugh inwardly as they over-perform the somatic components. But smile as their lips wrap around the words of the verbal component of the spell, breathing life into the magic. Finally, you ask them to look within themself and picture the concept of harmony (that should be easy for them, seeing as they’re a bard). And their dancing lights begin to take shape - a twinkling glow in the dusk of night. You feel the Weave surrounding you both and you wonder what it feels like for them. For you channeling the Weave was always accompanied with scents of warm spices like cinnamon and cloves with a just hint of citrus and a sense of peaceful serenity unlike anything you’ve ever experienced outside of the Weave. Almost like a homecoming.

Tav steps back from their conjured lights and brushes into your hand with theirs. Accidentally, or on purpose, you’re not sure, but your heartbeat picks up as the Weave connects you. It’s intimate, like you’ve always known it to be. And now you are sharing it with Tav. You can sense their emotions, you can feel their deepest desires. All they have to do is share them.

There are no words needed as Tav shares a thought of tenderly kissing you, which leads to a more passionate kiss. Your eyes grow wide at the idea. Have they seen through my ruse to bring them over here? But what about the orb? But… oh! What a glorious thought this is! Maybe we can find a way to make this work… but don’t get ahead of yourself, Gale. You don’t want to detonate all over them!

“I wasn’t expecting…” you start. “But it is a pleasant image to be sure! Most pleasant. Most welcome,” you say, as your gaze into their eyes intensifies. But just as quickly as it enveloped you, you begin to feel the Weave evaporate around you, wisping off into nothingness. “Oh, there it goes. How easily things slip away from us, no matter how hard they were in the obtaining.”

You wish you could share more with this lovely creature who stands before you. More of the Weave, more of you, more of those intimate thoughts. But you know that you must call it a night and ponder the future. You have to ask yourself if it’s worth telling Tav how desperately you crave the kisses they envisioned. It wouldn’t be fair to them to start a relationship tonight when you could be gone tomorrow. So instead, you step back and bid them a good night. There would be more discussion in the morning… but tonight, you will sleep with your thoughts full of the lovely auburn-haired bard on the other side of the camp.

[gavamont]

A wizard of orange did try

To have citrus rain from the sky

With his fruit orb he worked

And never once shirked

Until citric acid burned all things nearby

[ladytesla]

The Great Faerun Baking Show (part four)

Hi, remember me? Wasn't in the best headspace for a bit, but now I'm gonna try and follow through with all this.

For those of you who are just stopping by, I had a horrible idea a while ago and this is the result. I have no idea what's going to happen or who's going to win. I’m just going to roll a D20 ‘bake check’ for everyone and write out the results, including what everyone rolled so y’all know I’m not cheating just so my druid boyfriend can win.  The person with the lowest total score (out of a possible score of 60) goes home.

We've got the main 6 companions, Jaheira, Halsin, Minsc (and Boo), Minthara, Dammon, and my tav Medora (who y'all can just pretend is Alfira if you don't want someone else's tav in the story, since they're both female bards)

Week One, Cake Week: Star baker was Karlach, Minthara went home

Week Two, Biscuit Week: Star baker was Halsin, Shadowheart went home

Week Three, Bread Week: Star baker was Wyll, Jaheira went home

Week Four: Pies and Tarts, or "Ammunition to Throw in Dribbles' Face"

Signature: Wellington

Astarion: Lamb wellington. It was quite dry, and the fake blood garnish was in poor taste, but it was at least edible.

Dammon: Vegetarian wellington. He miscalculated how much moisture the veggies would have, and his wellington turned out quite soggy.

Gale: Bream wellington with veggies. He tried to bring in some Waterdhavian flair to his recipe, and it worked really well for him.

Halsin: Vegan mushroom wellington. It was very badly misshapen and the puff pastry was somehow charred at one end and underbaked at the other.

Karlach: Chicken wellington with cherry sauce. The flavors were lovely and incredibly well balanced, and earned her a Hollywood Handshake.

Lae'zel: Curried monkfish wellington. The flavors were so unique and the bake was so well executed that she got a Hollywood Handshake.

Medora: Venison wellington. She got distracted by Halsin's biceps and burned it to a crisp. The oven even caught on fire, which caused more than a little panic until Gale used magic to put it out. The wellington-shaped charcoal briquet found in the oven was unable to be judged.

Minsc: Pork wellington. The puff pastry didn't puff whatsoever.

Wyll: Traditional beef wellington. The problem with classics is that you have to execute it absolutely perfectly. And he did! And got a Hollywood Handshake to boot.

Technical: 12 Egg Custard Tarts

We only had one tie this week, and scores scattered all across the board. Worst to best:

9. Lae'zel 8. Halsin 7. Karlach 6. Medora 5. Astarion 4. Dammon 3. Minsc 2. Wyll 1. Gale

Showstopper: Designer Fruit Tart

Astarion: He used all citrus fruits in his tart, which worked well with the chocolate custard he made. It was noted that he's relied on citrus and chocolate before, but the judges were hardly complaining.

Dammon: Once again the resident blacksmith has proven that he has quite the eye for detail, as his tropical fruit tart was perfectly precise and artfully decorated. He earned a Hollywood Handshake.

Gale: Created a lovely fruit mosaic tribute to his former 'friend' the Netherese Orb. Unfortunately that might have jinxed the tart, as he tripped and dropped it on the way to it being judged.

Halsin: Again, he'd harvested all the berries himself for his tart. Cloudberries, mulberries, sea buckthorn... he tried to find berries most people might not know about. The pastry case was a bit crumbly, but otherwise the presentation was lovely.

Karlach: Her tart had red fruit, red custard, and red tart dough. While the flavors were all right, the presentation was very much lacking. But as we know, Karlach is very unapologetic about presentation if something tastes good.

Lae'zel: May or may not have used fruit from the astral plane that causes hallucinations. To her credit, she didn't know said fruit causes hallucinations in istiks. The fruit provided a lovely light blue color to her presentation that hadn't been seen before, and once the judges didn't think their hands were melting anymore, they admitted it tasted quite lovely.

Medora: She started out rough this week, but managed to pull through with a tart featuring stone fruit like peaches and plums. The salted caramel drizzle on top really tied everything together.

Minsc: Noel Fielding played a joke and pretended to kidnap Boo. Enraged, Minsc instinctively threw what he had with him at the host... which unfortunately meant his tart sailed across the tent and hit Noel in the back of the head. Unfortunately, that meant said tart was unable to be judged. They both profusely apologized to each other and let Boo eat as many crumbs as he wanted, though.

Wyll: Apparently Duke Ravenguard enjoys a good fruit tart, so Wyll used all of his father's favorite fruits in the design he made. It was beautiful, and very well-balanced in flavor.

The Results:

Our star baker AGAIN this week, with a whopping 55/60, is Wyll!

And unfortunately, due to throwing a tart as well as his score of 22/60, Minsc (and Boo) have to leave the tent.

Feel free to play along in the comments! How would your tav or favorite npc compare?

Next week is Underdark Week. Have your antidotes ready.

[junowritings]

Baldur gate matchups :0000000000

Cool nouns: he/she

Gender pref: no pref :0

Zodiac: Aries sun, Leo moon, libra rising

MBTI: intj-a

How I describe myself: huge nerd, collector of stupid shit, I am both the golden retriever boyfriend and goth girlfriend in one genderless human shaped mass. Girl kisser and dilf enjoyer (deadass men my age freak me out a little but…. dilfs….. explodes)

Hobbies: Digital art, web design, cooking, video games, reading,

How other people describe me (/pos):

- “you feel act like the embodiment of a mango monster”

- “The fact that of all of us (in reference to the polycule) you don’t have an autisim diagnosis is more of a jumpscare than you being ginger”

- “You could tell me the sky is hot pink and if you said it with the same conviction you say most things I’d trust you completely on it.”

Character flaws? Idk how to phrase this without it reading as self deprecating- issues I know I have that would inevitably be relevant to knowing me.

- I lack both empathy and sympathy almost completely, which makes me absolutely horrid at comforting people unless they want practical, logic driven solutions.

- I have a bad habit of seeing my solutions as the only viable solution, even if it’s been proven to be wrong/ineffective

- I can be incredibly arrogant (bordering on elitist) about the topics I am passionate about

- I form strong opinions of people quickly, and they are extremely difficult to shake (a bad first impression with me usually ends in a distain so strong I inconvenience myself to avoid said person, and it’s just as hard to convince me someone I like has done something wrong without extremely concrete proof, and even then I’m inclined to forgive them.)

Love language: gifts!! Usually art, or trinkets and cooking.

Miscellaneous and potentially unnecessary facts about me:

- I really like terraria

- I’m allergic to sunlight (literally)

- My bed is more categorically akin to a nest

- I’m completely nocturnal (re: sunlight)

- I’m also allergic to gluten, milk, eggs, pollen, grass, mold, citrus, red meat, cats, and dogs.

- My cats name is Fortnite Battlepass

- One of the name ideas for him was Dollarama

- I own a student grade microscope

- My favourite passtime is drawing pathetic men happy and in love

- I have Gale’s orb scar as a tattoo

Uhhhhh that’s it :0 if there’s anything specific you wanna know (or if you want pictures of my cat and/or tattoo) you’re more than welcome to ask!!

Match up time! Gotta say Fortnite Battlepass is adorable and only cemented who I decided to go with in the end! Which is,,,

So get this, two nerdy golden retriever partners walk into a tavern-

Okay but seriously, is it any wonder that Gale ends up so absolutely taken with you? 

The moment he sees your collection Gale wants to hear about it. There’s nothing quite like amassing a collection of things that bring you joy and make you happy, and he’ll gladly listen to you ramble about it if you’re comfortable to - where you got them, how long you’ve been collecting, what’s the most treasured part of your collection. These are just some of the things he’d query you on, all the while taking the time to admire your collection if you have it on display or bring it out to show him. 

He's actually got a fair collection himself, though his penchant for magical item consumption may have dwindled his display far more than he would have liked - alas desperate times had called for desperate measures back then. It’s honestly very validating to have someone show that kind of interest; though thanks to his curious nature you two may be stuck in this discussion for a couple of hours. It’s fascinating though! So who can really blame the guy? 

Will actively add to the stuff you collect so get ready to expand the space for them; one of his love languages is gift giving - so if that means getting you some of the weirdest stuff you’ve ever seen for your collection just to make you smile? By the gods he’d gift you something every other day if he could - thankfully Tara’s quick to curb that before he gets over excited and offers to refurbish an entire room in his tower back home for your stuff.

I don’t know if Gale would technically count as a dilf, being on the middle/younger side of the dilf scale (I hc like mid 30’s.) BUT he’s got the soft dad bod, bad puns, a couple grey streaks AND Tara so in my heart I would say this man is on the road to qualify.

Gale would be fascinated to see you at your computer, be it creating art or working on the code for your web pages. You’re practically working a magic of your own on your computer screen, confident in your ability to create and finishing off every piece you create with a level of detail and care that he’s sure very few people can even begin to replicate. And gods if there isn’t anything more attractive to him than someone who knows their craft and is passionate about it.

I hope you’re prepared for an audience because Gale will watch you work, leaning against the back of your chair with his head upon yours or your shoulder the whole time. You’ll have to warn him a couple times not to get too close to the screen because if he gets any closer you’re gonna struggle to see what you’re doing. When it comes to your web page designing, he would try and take up learning from you if you ever offer to teach him some basics - Gale would jump at the chance, actually. The guy’s a dream to teach, but also has a tendency to ramble as he tries to figure out whatever you’re trying to teach him. He also has a bad habit of getting overconfident, which when it comes to coding with him is a surefire way for the thing to blow up in his face (thankfully not literally.)

He absolutely LOVES cooking together. This man spent months being one of the only relatively decent cooks in the tadpole party so he’s got a decent list of recipes under his belt for each of their dietary requirements. Give him a couple times, let him learn what you can and can’t have and what foods you prefer, and he’ll make something pleasantly edible - not always perfect, but damn if it isn’t tasty. May or may not have a mental list of your favourite meals that he’d remembered from passing conversations. He certainly doesn’t use this as a means to surprise you or impress you whenever he invites you over (of course he does). The pair of you might occasionally butt heads over who cooks since he has a tendency to hover around in the kitchen trying to do stuff even if he’s not the one cooking that time.

It’s no secret that Gale’s bread and butter is books and tomes of all design and creed - hells he has an entire section of his home dedicated to his collection. He’ll happily give you recommendations and gift you books that you’ve expressed interest in without a second thought; he’s just chuffed to have someone who shares in this kind of pastime! If you guys are together around the time he does return home, he’ll ask for your company to sort through all of his books together. Sure it may not be the most riveting activity unless you’re really interested in what secret books he’s had stashed in his shelves all of these years; but it means a lot to him to have you there with him the whole time as he (quite literally) rearranges his life now that he’s home. There are some books that while he’ll still keep, they’re better off somewhere else than the main room - like the tomes and scrolls and forgotten texts once dredged up in desperate pursuits better left in the past. He’ll gladly let you fill in those gaps with books of your own, to create a space in his home that’s full of you - he can think of nothing better that would occupy that space than you.

Okay, so that one comment about the sky? Yeah, that’s Gale. While Gale’s not the kind of person to go blindly trusting everything someone says, there’s that conviction in the way that you say things that somehow makes him fall for it every time. If you ever did turn around and tell him that the sky was hot pink it’d earn you an amused snort and a sarcastic ‘haha very funny’ as he looks up from whatever he’s doing. But you’re the one who gets the last laugh because he’s the one casting a ‘subtle’ glance towards the window not even a minute later, only to be met with your knowing grin the moment he turns back. Just don’t let the others know that you’ve got that kinda one up on him, because I’m telling you now - Astarion and Shadowheart? Yeah they’ll be insisting to know how you get that kinda conviction to use on the poor man later.

While I can see Gale as the comforting type when the circumstances require, I also believe that having a partner like you who can ground him back to reality with logical solutions and practical reasoning is exactly what he needs. It’s so easy for him to get lost within the confines of his own thoughts, to allow things to become too much of a mess for him to pick apart and deal with on his own. But you’re a welcome hand, there to unravel the threads pulling taught on his mind with discussions of solutions and things that he can put into action in the here and now. That is comfort in its own way, even if you may not realise it.

As previously stated gift giving is one of Gale’s love languages, so given that you’re very much the same, that idea of making a room in his house just for you may not be such a far fetched idea anymore. His gifts centre around your current interests and fixations - he’s got a good ear for listening out to find what you need and get what makes you happiest. Expect more than a few magical items though - protective accessories for when he’s not at your side, or even items with silly magical effects that he knows will get a chuckle out of you once you realise what they do. Gets flustered under the same treatment however - your gifts are precious, and he feels like no matter where he puts them there’s not a good enough place to show them off and admire them. Always gets this lovestruck little look on his face each time he passes by one of your gifts in the day to day, running his hands along them like the mere touch of them is enough to brighten his very soul.

Hope there’s room enough in that nest for two because Gale doesn’t mind in the slightest. But he will help you to make it more comfortable - comfier blankets, softer pillows for extra cushion; this man spent at least a couple years falling asleep in places around his home that weren’t his bed so he knows the importance of making it as comfortable a place as possible for you (and his joints).

Comes as no surprise that he LOVES your cat, and it’s also no surprise that he’ll spoil the guy as much as humanly possible. Fortnite Battlepass quickly becomes one of the most pampered cats this side of Faerun, not just because of all the treats Gale likes to think he’s being sneaky about giving him, but because of the fact his tower is a cat paradise. Not to mention that cats usually warm up to Gale very quickly - guy’s a magnet because more often than not you’ll find Gale in the middle of work with Fortnite Battlepass flopped across his lap or desk, or lounging over his shoulder like a purring slinky.

The first time he sees your tattoo you can see several stages of panic go through his face in an attempt to remain calm about the situation. He visibly relaxes when you explain, no, it’s not actually an orb scar but a tattoo. Very much a ‘same hat’ moment for your tattoo and his own scar. Depending on where the tattoo is and if you’re comfortable with it, you may find him occasionally brushing his fingers over your tattoo, calloused fingertips following the inky tendrils that curl away from the main circle in the centre. Please do the same with his scar, you’ll basically turn the man to mush in your hands seeing you pay any kind of love and attention to a mark which once caused him such pain.

[henriiiii-1001]

looks at you with my big ol orbs hiiii henryy :3

hai citrus :3

looks back w my big ol eyes 👁️👁️

[triplesilverstar]

The future? Or maybe an alternate timeline?

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: mentions of pregnancy, angst heavy

Word count: Roughly 2.5K words

A/N: Part 22 of the series. The second chapter of dreams in the night and it’s Snipes turn. Trying to figure out if it’s a dream or something else. 

You find yourself waking up in a bed you don’t recognize, but you do at the same time, the room feels the same, like you know it but don’t. Stretching as you sit up, feet swinging over the edge to land in a pair of slip ons. It’s been a while since you’ve had a pair of those, once standing you shiver, even with the layers you’re wearing, reaching for an oversized hoodie that’s thrown over the back of a chair. Pulling it over your head and the scent of arid desert, burnt gunpowder, and a hint of barely there citrus envelops you. A scent that immediately puts your mind at ease. Vash. 

Opening the bedroom door, and heading out your body seems to know where it’s going and you find yourself pausing in a hallway just outside a kitchen. Occupied by two blonds with their backs turned to you, one at a stove trying to flip what you think are pancakes, the other setting a table. 

Badly. 

Knocking over more things than setting up, short arms unable to reach far enough across the surface, not thinking to get up on the chair to be able to reach farther across the table. A warmth spreads in your chest at the sight. 

Keeping a hand over your face, to keep the soft giggles to a minimum so neither boy hears you. As the older boy turns, roughly teenager sized and limbs looking like spindly noodles part of your mind is telling you they should be a teenager, but another part if saying they’re younger as you watch your smile deepens. That facial profile is very reminiscent of Vash minus the slant of their nose much closer to your own, eyes upturned and missing his fathers beauty mark. Because he has to be your and Vash’s eldest. Eldest. What a concept, to have not one but two babies with your pretty plant man. Again, you know somehow that these boys are yours. His voice cracks as he tells the younger boy he’s just making a bigger mess, tone surly.

It does something to your heart when the younger boy turns, so many of your own facial features there. From the shape of his face, to the curve of his cheeks, his eyes a few shades darker than his fathers orbs. Both boys have the same blond hair, it has to be the plant portion of their genes overriding any option for other hair color. Voice high pitched as he answers that he is not, stomping and little fists waving in the air.  The warmth spreading in your chest at the scene feels more like an inferno, such simple domestic things shouldn’t be having this much of an effect on you. 

A door creaking open catches your attention, heart jumping in your throat for a reason you can’t explain. The sight of Vash making a pit drop in your stomach, handsome as always with his eyes smiling, but something is out of place on what should be a familiar figure. 

His hair. 

It’s almost all black. Three stark blond hairs hanging just above his right eye. Except for some reason you both know and don’t know what it’s from. The only thing you do know is it should be ripping your heart apart, instead it’s just a pang in your chest. His clothes aren’t what you’re used to either, a button up shirt, and pants you can only describe as work pants. No sign of his signature red coat in sight. “I thought I told you two to wait for me?” His voice is soft, lightly scolding them “your mom sees this, she’s going to think her present is cleaning up after you two.” 

That makes you snicker, loud enough for three heads to whip in your directions, three voices calling out either Mom or Mayfly, as you push yourself off the wall. Your youngest darting towards you, arms wrapping around you, face pressed against your swollen belly. How had you missed that? “Happy Mom day, Mom” you laugh at his mirth, running your fingers through his hair that has the same softness as his fathers. 

“Thank you baby. You’re Dad’s right though. Is my present cleaning up after you guys?” Your eldest is picking at the back of his ear, oh you know where that nervous tick comes from, no wonder Vash has such an easy time getting a read on you

. The light blush coloring his cheeks adorable before he turns back to the stove. 

“No Mom! We were helping Dad out in the field and the stable!” He’s so excited, looking up at you with those bright eyes. All you can do is wonder just how old your sons are, because you’ll never get a bead on it based on their physical sizes and the information Vash has told you about how quickly he’d grown. What you do know is they aren’t twins. 

“Oh were you now?” Tone teasing as you gently pry him off, and push him into the kitchen, watching him run off to try and finish settling the table. And by setting the table, handing things to Vash to place, who still has that gentle smile in place on his face. 

“Yea! All the Toma are fed and watered! And their pens are clean.” At the words clean you see Vash making air quotes telling you they’re not cleaned to yours and his standard. Eldest rolling his eyes at the motion. Seeing the stovetop being shut off you grin, stepping closer and wrapping an arm around the stoic boy, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“Gross Mom” a few half hearted swats before he pulls himself from your arm and moving the, what appears to be a serving platter full of pancakes to the table. How utterly domestic, and part of you is yearning for more of it, so different from running in the desert. Fighting to keep both Vash, and yourself safe from bounty hunters and outlaws. Or in Vash’s case, himself. You don’t need to turn to know who’s approaching you, feeling his presence at your side, flesh hand reaching out to rest on the swell of your stomach. 

“Our newest Sprout behaving this morning?” His voice is soft against your ear, body pressing against you while he tries with little success to get you to turn your head to face him. The heat from his body making you want to melt into him, but that would feel like giving in to his little game already. 

“As well as the other two are” both of you chuckle while an indignant cry of “Mom!” and a higher pitched whine of the same cry reaches your ears. Vash is still trying to get you to turn your head so he can catch your mouth with his own, but you keep turning, staying just out of his reach as he laughs. 

Pulling his hand away from your stomach and up to your mouth to kiss his palm “you know that’s not the kind of kiss I want Mayfly.” Flicking your gaze to him, his signature pout in place you finally let him have his prize. As his lips press against yours the image seems to fade, becoming lighter and lighter. 

Groaning you squint your eyes, hand rubbing your face as you notice the thin beam of light passing through the ragged curtains hanging across the badly boarded up windows. Right. The two of you had stopped to hunker down for the night in an abandoned village, having selected the most unlikely to fall apart building to sleep in. 

Soft snores escaping from the man next to you, on his back one arm keeping you tucked against his side. From here you glance up, mostly blond hair still atop his head, but you find yourself staring harder at his eyebrows and undercut. Have they always been this dark? Or is it the proof of something else, you know from the photo of him as a child his hair and brow used to be the same color as the top is now. 

There’s just so much you don’t know about the man, plant, Plant man you love. A love that some days seems like it’s too good to be true. Like it’s come on far too fast, but then you have moments where it feels like you’ve had your entire lives together. Not to degrade yourself, but you know there are others that are meant to figure out how the universe works. How plants work to create the things they do. You aren’t sure what you’re meant to know, and it makes trying to understand some of the things about Vash that much harder. He’s a plant. A being that from what you’ve heard is supposed to be an energy generator of some kind. Vash tells you he can’t generate anything. 

He doesn’t need a tank like his sisters. Is it because he’s male? Or something else entirely, a new being? Or a bridge between the old and the new? You sigh, a dull throb starting behind your eyes, rubbing at your temple. 

The other part of the dream though? It still has your heart all a flutter. Kids. With Vash. At least three of them with him, and while it could just be your subconscious coming up with any old thing, it is making you face the reality that you might want a child with Vash at some point. A reminder to the world how much you love him, even if you are terrible with feelings and telling him such sometimes. 

Or. A small voice in your head is saying something different, If Vash dreamed of your past lives once, maybe you saw a possible future? It hasn’t always been your thing to believe in visions and the like, but that dream? You knew that house, from the worn surface of the floor, polished a little more smooth from the fine grains of sand that slowly trickled in with each open door and swept away. To the groan of the walls when the winds whipped a little stronger than normal, strong against the onslaught. You knew it and everything else about it, a place you felt safe, felt love for everything about it. 

A home. 

Something you hadn’t had in oh so long as a physical place, a place you’d built with Vash so your babies knew what security was. This time you let loose a much longer sigh, not aware Vash had shifted in his slumber and your warm exhale washed over his face. 

“Mayfly?” His voice is gravelly from sleep, pulling your hand away from your brow where you’d been rubbing the throb that was still behind your eyes to watch him rubbing at his own face. 

“Go back to sleep Sunshine. Just waking up from a dream and thinking.” Voice low, he ignores your words, keeping his arm around you as he rolls onto his side. Sliding down a bit so he can look into your eyes, bits of crust still at the corners of his own, tired. 

“Nah. I’d rather look at my pretty lady” his fingers are dancing along your ribs, a soft grin on his face.

“Real smooth” snorting at his words, but a soft grin on your own face adjusting so you're pressed up closer to him.

“Wanna tell me about the dream?” You’re close enough that you can feel his chest as it moves, letting a hand run up the firm plains of his abdomen, pressing hard against the fabric. A shift of his hips and another part of him is starting to wake up too.

“Not really” your voice is flat, because you honestly don’t want to tell him you dreamed of something so domestic. The thought of having children, even with him has you scared, and his dark hair scared you even more.

“Was it at least a good dream?” Smile dropping, the teasing of his fingers against your ribs stalled.

“My favorite kind. You were in it.” At that his smile does come back, full force and you find yourself biting your lip. “But it scared me a little. Your hair was black” he flinches ever so subtle that if you didn’t know him you would have missed it. “Do you know what that means?” Once again your motormouth running before you can think to stop it. But if he knows something, you’d rather face it now then down the road. 

“Not fully. But I have a guess” the smile on his face slowly dropping “I” a hard swallow from him, followed by a long exhale you feel against your face. “I think it’s a sign that as a plant my powers are almost used up.” That has your eyes going wide, heart racing quickly enough you know Vash to be able to hear it, mouth suddenly dry. 

“Well what does that mean?” Almost afraid to ask the question, your voice is timid even to your own ears, hand reaching up to cup his jaw. 

“I guess, that i’d be near the end of my life.” His voice, so low, is barely audible. Oh that is not what you want to hear. Your heart is hammering now, hard enough that you feel an ache in your chest. Throat becoming tighter and tighter, liquid pooling on your eyelashes. 

“Vash” it’s nothing but a broken stutter of his name, slamming your eyes shut, this is not what you want to face right now. The thought that in a dream you’ve seen him near the end of his life. With kids? Is this your brain telling you you’ll never have a happy ending? That in the end, Vash is another person you’ll end up burying, left to live whatever cursed life you have alone. 

Vash is the open one, you play off his actions and reactions, how are you supposed to look after possibly three plant children when you know so little about independent plants? 

“It’s just what I think, Mayfly. I’m far from an expert. It could mean something else entirely.” His hand is no longer on your side, cool against the flushed skin of your face, thumbing the wetness away. “I don’t want to leave you alone.” He lets your tuck in against his neck, drenching his skin as he holds you tight against him, voicing the deepest fear you have. You’ve long stopped being afraid of your own end coming, but to lose him, it would break you. The longer you sob into him, the more he adjusts the two of you, so you're cradled against his body, words of comfort passing his lips with soft kisses against whatever parts of you he can reach. 

You’ve never been good at looking at the dawn, but if your dawn holds the end of your lover's life so casually in hand, maybe you do want to stay in the darkness a little longer. 

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