#mossy bridge

[silvaris]

Woodlands with light by Matthijs Bettman

[warmteaandcrunchyleaves]

[lionfloss]

Redwood National Park

[momerath74]

Natural bridge and some mossy goodness with a few awesome rocks for added effect.

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

one of life's underrated joys is listening to an old song you liked and realizing it has started to Make Sense in a way you could never have expected before

[jazmatazzzzzz]

Mossy rocks are my all time favorite kind of rocks

[herdddragon]

Stream

[sanguineterrain]

YES. BODYGUARD JASON TODD.

He's used to being looked over, just seen as meat & muscle (he doesn't mind, it's part of the job) but you're the first "job" who actually sees him, talks to him, makes him laugh 🫠 he doesn't know what he'll do if someone actually tries to put their hands on you 🙂

hiiii aud thank you for the scrumptious jaybird thoughts <3 so begins my bodyguard!Jason agenda!

bodyguard!jason todd x gn!reader. fluff, pining, and tension so thick you could cut it with a batarang.

All fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary

****

"Y'know, I think you just keep me around to carry your bags."

You grin over your shoulder where the Red Hood trails behind you, always five paces behind. Your takeout bag is in one hand, your new shirts in another. He wears a red mask over the lower half of his face, like always. Only seeing his eyes used to unnerve you, but now it's a comfort, finding his gaze in a crowd.

"That's not true. I also keep you around for something nice to look at," you say.

He tilts his head. Your belly flutters. "Flattery will get you nowhere, trouble."

"Flattery got me outside of my hotel, Red."

He sighs. "Tricking the hotel concierge doesn't count."

You laugh. "Sure it does. I think it does." You stick your arm out. "Will you walk next to me?"

"You know my rule."

"But you can easily cover me if you're next to me! And I'm so good at ducking. See?"

You duck and straighten a few times in a row to demonstrate. A few people stare. You ignore them. Hood's eyes crinkle in a way that tells you he's smiling.

"Mm, incredible technique. Wonder who taught you that. A ruggedly handsome bodyguard, perhaps?"

"Always hungry for the credit," you say. "Despicable."

"Ain't I?"

You turn around and stop. He stops five paces behind. You take a step forward. He takes a step back.

"I wanna see your face when we talk," you say, face pinched.

"Not in public, trouble. It's for your safety. You know that."

"Can't you come a little closer?"

None of your friends are like this with their personal guards. A moment from a friend's birthday party resurfaces.

It's almost like you'd rather be with him than us. You know he's just doing his job, right?

Hood stays exactly where he is. "This is the ideal spot for covering you. Now, c'mon. Thought you wanted to shop."

You sigh and let your arms flop to your sides. He must be nervous today. You can't imagine why.

"Fine. Be that way."

You hurry ahead. Hood doesn't lag behind. Stupid long-legged bodyguard.

"You can be mad at me as long as you stay safe," he says.

You turn again, about to really bitch about how strict he's being. But his proximity stops you short. He's inched closer, so close that you can properly see his eyes.

"This close enough for you?" he asks.

Hood's eyes are warm in the light, mossy and rich. His lashes and brows are dark and thick. Once or twice, you've seen a splash of freckles across his nose. The bridge of his nose is crooked like it's been broken one too many times.

Dear God, you yearn to know him.

Your stomach does more flips. Hood watches you, half-lidded.

"What're y'doing, trouble?"

His voice is soft, the way it gets when he's trying to smooth over a tiff between you. You can't figure out why he does that. You always get over it. And so does he. He has no choice.

"I'm looking at you, Red," you say.

"Yeah? What're y'lookin' at me for?"

"'Cause I want to."

He blinks. "Me? Not much to look at."

You look at each other for another minute. The want bubbles up again, spills out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"Please walk next to me," you say. "I need to know you're there."

He leans in to speak, black curl tumbling over his forehead. He smells sweet, like apples and spice. You almost appreciate the danger in your life because it keeps you in the Red Hood's line of sight.

"Wha's the matter? Y'nervous? I'm right here."

Oh, you're nervous, alright. Just not in the way he thinks. The way you ought to be.

You turn around. For your sake and his.

"Not nervous. Just... just... never mind. You pick where we go next, Red."

"It's your day. 'M just the driver," he says.

"If you won't walk next to me, the least you can do is pick where we go."

"The least I can do, huh?"

It's clear he isn't going to choose. So you watch him instead. You turn the corner and sneak glances over your shoulder. You don't care much about shopping anymore anyway. It's only an excuse to go out. To be alone with him.

Your answer comes. It's only for a split second, but you catch it anyway. He taught you to notice things after all. Says it could be the difference between living and dying.

You immediately change course. Hood follows you easily, and you breeze through the bookstore's entrance. You sneak a look to gauge his reaction. He's looking around, but that could just be him clocking the exits and obstacles. You grab his hand. He looks at your joined hands, then at you.

"Feeling lost?" he asks.

"No. Just trying to keep you present. Nothing’s gonna happen in a bookshop, Red."

That crease in the middle of his forehead returns. "'S my job to plan for the worst. Keeping you safe is the only thing that matters."

"Not the only thing."

His eyebrows rise. "Whaddya talking about? 'Course it is."

You look at your joined hands. This is bad. This is really, really bad. You'd might as well pull your heart out of your chest and let Hood carry that too.

You start to walk, fingers slipping out of his. Hood doesn't try to rejoin them.

He stays closer in here, close enough that you can talk quietly and smell his apple pie scent.

"What do you like to read?" you ask.

Hood glances at you. "Clocked that about me, did you?"

"I was taught by the best," you say sweetly.

He hums. Doesn't joke or laugh. Just makes a soft sound. It's not often you render him speechless.

"I loved Frankenstein as a kid. I always hoped he'd love his monster, but..."

Hood disappears for a moment, lost in his head. You take his hand, heart be damned.

"Red?"

He looks at you again. His eyes are wild. Sometimes, it seems like they glow.

"My... my dad used to read it to me," he says. "One time I asked if he'd love the monster anyway. He promised he would."

You rub his knuckles. He flinches, like he's forgotten where he is. 

"Someone's devotion to our monstrous parts is something we all want," you say.

You spend more time in the bookstore. Hood attracts a few stares, like always, but you're left alone. He carries your shopping without complaint, without strain, and you wonder if your friend was right, if this is just a job.

You buy a special edition of Frankenstein under his attention. Then you turn around and hand him the book. He keeps it under his arm.

"Ready to head back? Y'hungry?"

"That's for you," you say.

"Hm? What is?"

"The book. It's for you, Red."

Silence. The second time that you've stunned the words out of him. You're on a roll.

"Y'don't have to do that," he says, gentle as can be.

"It's a present for you. A thank you."

Hood shakes his head. "You don't need to thank me for protecting you. Just doing my job."

"I'm thanking you for being my friend. Because... you are, right? My friend?"

This time, Hood's eyes on you are heavy. You wonder if he can see your heart beating, see your belly fluttering, see the real reason why you get nervous around him.

"Yeah, trouble," he says, book cradled to his chest like it's precious cargo. "I'm yours."

[silvaris]

Fairy bridge by Suzanne Gervais

[loveshotzz]

Hi hi babes 🖤🦇

May I pretty please request ☆ { licking } their neck to make them gasp with our Stevie?

Thank you 🥰

Hi my sweet sweet Drac 🖤 I would love nothing more than to give you what you want.

steve harrington x fem!reader

wc: 1.8k

warnings: 18+ Co workers to lovers, Mentions of drinking at a party, dry humping, hickey giving, uh-oh did you make Steve cum in his pants? :(

You weren’t supposed to give into Steve Harrington, you promised yourself you wouldn’t after your first day at Family Video when he laid it on thick with the kind of flirting that would have gotten him anything he wanted in high school but you knew better now and his own confidence had gotten knocked down a few pegs over the years. The problem was he could tell you liked it, because as much as you hated to admit it, you did. Steve caught the twist of your lips that you were always trying to hide when he’d tell you how cute you looked every time you walked into work even on the days it was just a t-shirt and jeans. You never told him to stop, even when he’d ‘jokingly’ ask you out to dinner after every close. It was always a shy smile and a roll of your eyes with a ‘shut up Steve’.

So how’d you end up straddling his lap in the basement at one of Rick’s parties that you didn’t even want to go to with his bottom lip between your teeth? You blame Robin Buckley and her incessant need to take multiple shots in a row to ‘get it over with’, and then abandoning you as soon as Nancy arrived leaving you with the boy you’ve been trying not to relent to and his reaction to your skirt all night.

Steve’s fingers dig bruising indentations into the soft dough of your hips when you let his lip go with a wet pop, watching it snap back into place even more swollen and pink than before from under your lashes. The mossy forest of his eyes is taken over black, pupils blown wide half hidden by heavy lids as he looks up at you with hair even messier than its normal disarray with your hands as the culprits. Your skirt sits rucked up just enough for him to see the blush pink lace of your panties underneath that match the dusting on his cheeks, and the wet patch that you know will leave a mark on the light wash denim of his jeans the more you grind against him. He lifts his hips up as he pulls you forward, gliding you over the inseam of his zipper with just the right amount of pressure against your clit to have you gasp. He feels even bigger than you imagined, bigger than all the stories you’d heard from other girls.

A cocky lopsided grin tugs at the corner of his mouth pushing up the cheek with the two moles that look like a vampire bit the apple of it, traces of pink from your gloss still linger on them and the glitter coating shimmers in the low light. He tilts his head back to look up at you, the thick expanse of his neck exposed along with the sharpness of his jaw. The new angle reveals a mess of freckles you’d only dared to let yourself look at from afar. Glitterless and bruisless, a blank canvas that taunts you.

Leaning forward your hands find a home on his chest, while his fingers spread wide over the curve of your ass. The tips of them daring to slide along the bottoms of your panties. His pecs twitch against your palms from under the thick fabric of his navy polo that fits snug over his broad shoulders, almost like it's a size too small just like his jeans and just like his vest at work. Steve Harrington knew what he was doing. Of course he did.

Tequila and pineapple are sweet on your breath, mixing with the peach of your gloss in a way that makes him impatient to collect them in a kiss again when the tip of your nose traces up the straight bridge of his. It leaves your lips just a chin tilt away from him if he really wanted but his dark eyes flick down to the growing wet patch between your thighs instead, grabbing handfuls of the soft fat of your ass to encourage you to grind harder.

“S’pretty you know that?” He groans bucking up when your hips oblige him, the tip of his cock fighting with the inseam of his jeans, pushing into the silk of your underwear making an even bigger mess of you. “Too damn pretty, honey. Could stare at you all day, fuck - I do.”

“Steve!” The way you giggle his name makes his teeth flash in the kind of smile that has you feeling like the flustered girls you see leave the counter at work.

“What? It’s true, can’t keep my eyes off you.” He sits up, straightening his back with big hands that pull you up with him.

The new position has your chests pressed, the length of him rubbing along your clit with enough pressure to make you whine and god does he need you to do it again. Grunting he starts his hunt for another with lips that find the hollow of your throat, smirking against your skin when your fingers tangle in his hair. You wanted to give it to him.

“I didn’t think you were gonna give me a chance,” His babbling doesn’t stop, especially when your hips start to circle, “you were playin’ so hard to get baby, but I’m patient when I really want something.”

“We work together Steve -“ You try to argue with a shaky breath, lashes fluttering closed as he nips at the sensitive spot behind your ear. The springs of the couch starting to squeak under your movements, too close to care about holding back any more. “It could get messy, you know? - Shit.”

He hums like he understands with your earlobe sucked into the heat of his mouth, letting it go with a pop before his eyes meet your heavy gaze with a mischievous glint that only stokes the flames he’s lit across your body, licking every inch of your skin.

“I don’t know,” The corners of his mouth twist up in a grin snapping the elastic band of your panties “seems pretty messy now.”

His tongue traces your top lip, while his fingers find purchase wrapped around your hips. Tan skin pulls taut over his knuckles using his strength to bring your hips down on him harder, a deep groan rumbling from his chest when you tug at the thick locks of his auburn hair from the roots.

“That’s not what I - “ Your lips connect for a moment, tongues meeting briefly before you pull away with a huff, “that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

The tip of his nose bumps with yours, his breath fanning across your face in a mixture of leftover peach gloss and the whiskey he opted for instead upstairs.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” He asks with another roll of his hips relishing in the way it makes your jaw go slack with a smirk, “We get paid to have sex? Big woop.”

“Is that how you think it’s gonna be?” Your bottom lip meets his top when the question comes out, your eyes meeting his from down the slope of your nose.

“Maybe,” He wiggles his eyebrows with a chuckle that hits hot against your throat, “If you want, after I take you out on a date of course.”

“Oh we’re going on dates now too?” Grinning with a tilt of your head, you think about stealing a kiss that he’s eager to give.

One of his hands leaves your hip, the warmth of it coming up to cup your jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing your bottom lip before tugging it down.

“Yeah, we’re going on dates”

He closes the little space between you, finally stealing what you’ve been teasing him with. His mouth moves with yours like he’s sure of himself, tongues meeting in a slow dance instead of a battle for dominance. His other arm wraps around your waist, biceps that are just as strong as they look pulling you closer, caging you in with another buck of his hips. The whine he’s been trying to get out of you starts to tease him from the back of your throat, the beginnings of it making his lips twitch against yours in a cocky way, even when he knows he’s dangerously close to needing a new pair of pants.

He’s not expecting one of your hands to come up and pinch the sharp edges of his jaw between two red painted fingers, or the way you start to control the kiss and Steve starts being the one to writhe underneath you at whatever mercy you want to give him. Truly, he doesn’t want any.

Now it’s him who whines when you pull away, your kiss swollen sticky lips finding the familiar path to his cheek. Another glittering trail of pink that leads down under his jaw where you nip just like he did to you.

“Honey,”

The pet name comes out like a warning when your tongue swipes across sweat slick skin. The tip of your nose nudging behind his ear with a smirk. Your hips circle with purpose now, not the wild abandon from before, feeling the way it makes him twitch in his jeans. He shudders when you lick the length of his neck, teeth scraping along the protruding vein as his arm tightens its hold, the palm of his hand curling around the back of your neck.You hum in approval, lips wrapping around where your teeth just were before sucking hard.

He groans your name loud enough you’re sure someone upstairs heard him, eyes rolling in the back of his head and toes curling in his sneakers as his hips buck up meeting the roll of yours. You know it’s going to be enough to leave his sun kissed skin lilac and blush when you’re done, but he doesn’t seem to care when the hard tip of him that threatens to bust through the seam of his jeans keeps hitting your bundle of nerves over and over again.

Steve’s head falls against the back of the couch, eyes pinching shut opening himself up more for you while his hips stutter. You feel the warmth of him flood between your legs. A string of curse words spilling from his lips, when your own release has your body freezing on top of him, thighs closing tight around his and an open mouth to his neck in a silent scream.

It’s quiet for a while, both of you trying to catch your breath with the bass of the music that vibrates the walls from upstairs. A content hum from your lips breaks the silence when he rubs his hand down your spine, nails scratching softly as he goes.

“Yeah, we’re going on dates.” He finally huffs out in a laugh, earning the giggle that he liked so much as his ‘yes.’

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

Steve never goes straight into touching you underneath your panties. Not you, no. He likes to make you wait for it, spend every moment thinking about it, wondering when he’ll finally slip those thick fingers of his past the elastic band — whether it be pulling them to the side or dipping into the waistband. He teases you every. single. time. His mouth will find your neck, his nose crooked against your cheek, nuzzling your own, tracing down and inhaling your skin until it’s pressing against your collarbone as he mouths at the swell of your breast, thumbpad adding pressure on your nipple, through your bra…

… Teasing.

He’s whispering in your ear, hand cupping you between your legs, on most occasions. Someone’s house, each other’s beds and various furniture pieces, public places, his car or yours — anywhere he can get those massive hands on you, just to press his two fingers into the giant wet patch on your panties that’s uncomfortably clinging to your cunt, with a desperate need to be satiated.

“When you least expect it, I’m gonna touch you, honey.”

“Steve…” Exasperated, breathless into an achingly harsh exhaustion.

“M’ gonna take my time and see what you like, make you work yourself breathless onto my finger. You’ll just get one, until I can trust you to take more.”

“Touch me,” you plead, only for him to do that crooked little smirk. His mossy irises blown to a glossy midnight sky, lips pink and swollen from kissing you for hours, tongue tingling from how much he’d tangled it with your own, or sampled your skin, newly grown out hair a mess, silver chain visible beneath his low cut t-shirt.

“I’ve been touching you. What’re you complainin’ for, greedy girl?”

You just shift your legs and whine, trapping his palm as it rests on your thigh. You give up. He’s going to tease you for eternity…

… Until, he doesn’t.

He comes over on a Sunday night, opting to stay with you and help cook dinner. Your date ends the same (not that you complained), and you are out of your mind with his mouth on yours and your neck, his hand squeezing your inner thigh beneath your sleep shirt, your bra straps hanging off your shoulders, his two fingers pathing the elastic outline decorating your panties. That’s when he does it.

Voice blown and raspy, he says, “Look at me, honey.”

The moment that your eyes meet, his fingers push into the side of your panties and directly up the slick that has gathered only for him. He won’t let you look away, your eyes widening, his forehead pressing against yours, nosing you with defined bridge. “Yeah? Fuck, I know you want me to, honey. You’re so fuckin’ wet for me. Almost pisses me off I made you wait this long.”

[chaethewriter]

YOU'RE DEAD TO ME

[12: EPILOGUE]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

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The air felt so much lighter and the sun much brighter. Cold water droplets landing on your warm skin as you sat under a damp tree, cooling your sweating body down. Your fingertips touched the mossy ground from under you as they disappeared into the green grass that stood tall.

The touch tickled your skin as you enjoyed the peaceful scenery around you.

Peace.

Quiet.

At ease.

No sounds of war surrounding you or the horrifying screams of the natives filling your eardrums. Just the noise of chirping animals in the background as you inhaled the pandoran air. Your eyes closed as you dozed off, back rested against the same tree you're settling down under.

Your ears twitched. There was a change of background noise. You heard it.

Chirp chirp rustle chirp.

It wasn't loud, but you caught onto it. Your eyes were still closed, waiting for any other unusual sound. A rustle. A thud. The hand that roamed around the high grass moved slowly, but delicately towards your dagger. Your nails dug into the dirt as your hand wrapped around the weapon. You heard another couple of rustles and tried to pinpoint out in your head where THEY would be now. It was more than one.

You could hear soft thuds of footsteps in between a pair of footsteps and the same bush was hit twice. You tried to imagine the scenery in front of you. A small hill in the corner of your right eye, from behind there a small little river flowing down with around the edge a huge bush. Surrounding you just a bunch of naturally placed trees from all sizes. You knew there was a branch just a few meters in front of you. You placed it there for occasions like these. The wood was small, therefore hard to spot thanks to the high grass.

You waited and waited.

Until, snap.

The branch was crushed in half and you jumped from the ground, dagger in hand as you pointed it towards the danger that you would soon face with a soft hiss leaving your lips. Well, a danger isn't what you could really call it, as Lo'ak and Tuk stood in front of you with their hands thrown up in defense.

"Calm down! It's us! Damn, you really got feisty in that form." Lo'ak yelped it out as he took a step back. He then turned to Tuk who was stood on the broken branch. "Tuk! You should watch where you're going! Now our entire stealth plan in scaring sis is ruined!" The words almost escaped his lips with a whine, almost. Tuk's ears ppinted downwards as she gazed at her feet, "I'm sorry..."

A sigh left your lips, shaking your head in the process. You walked up to your siblings. Where you would usually reach Lo'ak around his stomach and Tuk around her neck, you were now facing his neck instead as Tuk reached your stomach.

You put your navy blue hand on her head as you rubbed her head, "It's okay, little Tuk. Lo'ak is just being a meanie! Right?" You then faced your little brother and grabbed him by his cheek. You pulled hard, causing him to yelp out, "right?" You frown as you look up at him, eyes squinted. He immediately nodded in response, his ears flopping slightly as he did so. A small "yes" left his lips and you let go of his cheek in satisfaction.

"Dad wants you back, actually. It's almost dinner time."

"And he sent you?" You raised your eyebrow in suspicion, soon squinting your eyes awaiting an answer from him.

"Okay okay! I actually overheard dad talking to mom so I uhh.... went to get you and took Tuk with me?" He already took a step back as he spoke, scratching behind his neck, "Don't kill me! I just uh, missed you???"

You pinch the bridge of your nose, "Of course you did. You know that if you go somewhere you need to tell someone, especially with taking little Tuk here. I'm not mad, but just, don't wander off without saying a word alright? It's still dangerous out here." You bring your hand to his cheek, this time rubbing it instead of pulling at it like a pillow, "I care about you, you know that right?"

Lo'ak's tail swayed and hit the ground as it did so, nodding his head in understanding, "I'm sorry.."

You shook your head, "no, don't apologize, just, try your best alright? You can also notify me whenever you go somewhere. Now come on you two, we got dinner to catch, don't we?" You pat both of their shoulders, before pulling away and sprinting away.

"Last to get to High Camp gets the tiniest piece of dessert!"

All those years of tormenting yourself, closed off, blinded by anger and sadness. Letting the negative emotions consume you whole. You didn't know what you lived for or why you lived. Negative thoughts taking over your rational way of thinking.

Why did he leave me?

He won't return for me.

Is there something wrong with me?

Did he hate me?

You didn't know what to live for, but now.

"We're back!!" Tuk barged into their shared hut, followed by you and Lo'ak. Neytiri was in a crouched position as she readied the table, but got up once she heard the familiar voice of her daughter, "where were you?! Your father and Neteyam are looking for you as we speak!" She made her way towards Lo'ak, "and you skxawng! What were you thinking bringing your little sister with you!"

Lo'ak's ears point downwards as he got scolded, but you and Tuk soon intervene, "Don't be too hard on him, mother. He can be, unintentionally, reckless. I already talked with him." You explained as you stepped in front of your little brother, putting your hand on his back as you smacked his skin. Tuk stumbled to the front too as she nodded her head, "sis talked to him! And I wanted to explore as well, it's not only on him. It's not so fun to be here the entire day while there is an entire world to explore!"

Neytiri had her hand to her head, shaking her head as the words sunk in, "Lo'ak, Tuk, get to the main grounds to get our dinner."

They obliged to her wishes as they took off, leaving you alone with your mother. You bit the bottom of your lip as you awaited for whatever was to come.

"Are you okay, child?" She put her hand on your shoulder as she spoke. You nodded immediately at her question, "Don't worry, mother. I just needed a quiet place to think, you know?" You smiled softly at the affection. It took Neytiri a while to fully open up to you, flinching every now and then and subconsciously hissing whenever you approached her. The avatar body seemed to help her open up to you, though.

She nodded her head at your words and pulled away from you, "are you going to eat, with us?" You glanced to the table at her question, counting the place she had placed down. Eight plates. You had to stop a smile from appearing on your face, before nodding your head, "Yes, yes I am."

"There you are, was lookin' for ya." Your feet dangled in the air as you sat on a tree branch, mask sitting back on your face. You turned around once you heard that familiar voice, smiling at your father as you pat the branch empty space next to you.

"You disappeared right after dinner. Went looking for you. Didn't know I had to look for a tiny ant instead." Jake sat down next to you with a teasing grin, his palm raising to stroke your hair.

You scoffed at that remark, trying to push his arm away from you, "shut up, old man. I'm not a kid anymore."

"You'll always be my little girl."

Once you looked up at his face, you had noticed he was already staring at you with so much love and care in his eyes.

"This is so embarrassing.." you mumbled from under your mask as you hid your face into his arm. He could only chuckle in response. A peaceful silence took over, the sound of the wind rustling the leaves around you ringing through your ears.

After a few moments, Jake had opened his mouth, "thank you."

You could only look up at him confused, not speaking as you waited for him to explain himself. ", for giving me another chance." He breathed out from under his breath and even though it came out as a mumble, you heard the words loud and clear.

"You're my dad, after all."

The two of you exchanged a smile, before you turned back to look at the scenery, the sun saying goodnight as the moon decided to rise and shine.

"Dad!" Neteyam climbed through the trees with Lo'ak on his heels. The two brothers had sparkles in their eyes as they made their way to the two of you.

"Awee, why did you shrink back?" Lo'ak almost pouted as he pointed your human form out. You could only roll your eyes to visibly show him how you felt about that question.

"Did something happen, boys?" Jake had turned around, voice laced in worry and tenderness as he scanned his boys for any injuries.

"No, we are fine! Uhm we just had the ides to.. Neteyam!" Lo'ak smacked his older brother with his tail, earning a hiss in return.

"You sxwang!" Neteyam threw his arm around his brother's shoulders, before turning to their father, "we wanted to do a... night flight, actually." His ears turned downwards as he suddenly got all shy. His canines dug into his bottom lip as he awaited for his answer.

You smiled at the scene in front of you. This was your cue.

You yawned loudly as you got up from your sitting position, arms stretching as you spoke, "I'm going back to the lab. I'm so exhausted. Have fun! Make sure to bring me a gift." You hugged your father goodnight, soon turning to your not-so-little brothers and also giving each an individual hug, which turned out in them bearhugging you instead.

You watched as the three of them flew off, shuddering at the cold air that came your way from their wings.

Once arriving at the lab, you soon walked to your shared room with Seb and Raja, who were fast asleep as you entered the room. You shook your head with a chuckle as you were met with their snores. You took your bresthing mask off and hung it above your bed, taking a seat on the soft mattress to take a breather and daydream about your day. You trained, played around in your avatar body, ate dinner with your family and connected a lot with nature. A successful day in your eyes.

Thanks to all the activities, you were worn out and soon fast asleep in your bed.

It was late at night as your bedroom door opened, heavy yet quiet footsteps entering the room in just one singular step. He kneeled down, putting a small object on your nightstand and leaning down to kiss you goodnight.

On the object hung a piece of paper with human writing.

'Nete and Lo'ak found this feather. I tried to make it into a hairpiece. Goodnight my little girl.

- love, dad.'

A/N: this is it. The end of the series. My posting schedule went from daily to irregular and I had a lot of blocks in between posting having internal fights with my love for writing and/or under how much pressure I was. I wanted to add more to the ending, but with some help from someone close to me I realized I had told everything I wanted with this story and that I shouldn't force myself to add more than needed. Thank you all so much for being patient and reading this story as it went. I'm planning to pickup writing oneshots again and hope to feel more love when I write rather than pressure. So, until then! <3

[shibaraki]

LOVE TO LOVE YOU ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU

tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, established relationship, pro hero deku, fluff + smut, reunions, dry humping, vaginal oral + fingering (reader receiving), quirk use during sex (restraint; black whip), no power dynamic

wc: 2.2K

You surface slowly, coaxed into waking by the gentle invocation of your name. Uneven knuckles brush your cheek. The air retains some coolness, smelling faintly like late night petrichor, and beneath that a familiar musk that has your eyes fluttering open.

Crouched beside the couch is a silhouette haloed by the argent moonlight spreading across the otherwise dark living room. You must’ve accidentally fallen asleep. Inhaling deeply, you stretch your legs out across the cushions as your vision begins to focus.

“Hi,” Izuku whispers, wearing a tremulous smile. You blink, slowly drinking in the sight of him after a month apart. Mossy hair curls around his ears, a little longer and wilder than you remember. The shadows under his eyes are deeper. There’s a new line of scar tissue across his eyebrow, minor enough that it was left to heal naturally.

Where you take him into your hands your fingers find short stubble, a few days old. “You’re back,” you hear yourself match his volume, and the quiet forms an intimate bubble around the two of you. Izuku’s crows feet deepen as his smile grows, head tilted with a soundless laugh, and that helplessly fond expression falls over you like silk.

“I’m back,” he nods, covering your wrist with his hand and squeezing lightly as if to prove he was there.

He doesn’t look away from you, busy detailing the subtleties in your face like a man etching a moment into a memory. You realise there, under his loving scrutiny, that you haven’t changed your clothes; sprawled out in Izuku’s big worn hoodie and little underneath.

Izuku doesn’t mention it. There is not much more he can say that he hasn’t already said with his eyes. He sniffs and the bridge of his nose wrinkles. “Do you—can you hold me for a while?”

Your answer comes wordlessly and with open arms. Breath is knocked from your lungs at the weight that dives into your chest. Strong arms snake around your waist. Izuku tucks his face against your shoulder and shakes a little as you slide your fingers through his hair.

“I missed you,” you tell him.

He nods frantically into your hoodie, “Me too”.

The tension bleeds from his shoulders. Slumped deeper into your embrace you can see his suitcase and duffel bag left hastily by the dining table. You hum, gaze dragging toward his lower half hung over the edge of the couch, bent at an uncomfortable angle. “Come up here baby,” you rub at his shoulders and shift your hips to make room. Izuku lifts his head, dazed as he takes in the space between your legs. “Lay on top of me”.

Colour returns to his cheeks. A sleepy pink. He looks simultaneously flustered and pleased at the request. The cushions around you yield under his knees as he pulls himself up to settle between your thighs. Your fingers slip into his hair, back arched for the arms that snake around your waist. In resting his head on your chest Izuku presses every ounce that is him into every ounce that is you.

“There you go,” you breathe. Cradling the back of his skull your nails trace lightly over his scalp, delighting in the shiver that zips down his spine. He hums and you sink deeper into the couch. “You smell like rain. Were you okay getting home from the airport?”

A quiet arousal stirs in your lower belly as Izuku nuzzles your throat; however there is no desire to satiate it, not yet. You are content just to have him like this. Petal soft, you feel his lips move as he wryly replies, “Yoarashi-kun dried me off in the lobby”.

You curl a strand of hair around your forefinger and smirk, imagining him dumbstruck in a controlled gust of wind, “Is that why your hair can’t decide which direction it wants to go?”

Izuku laughs. The sound is low and breathless. It thaws you from the inside out. Gripped by affection your thighs squeeze at his waist and you hold him closer. His mirth tapers into even breathing and you fall into comfortable silence. Blanketed by his body you feel the gauzy lure into sleepiness. You fight the urge, wanting to savour his return, and knowing that if you surrender to it neither of you will make it to bed; consequently waking to a crick in your neck.

Clinging to consciousness you fill the spaces with the mundanity that was your month apart. Filing reports, meeting his mother for dinner, a determined Uraraka dragging Bakugo to karaoke kicking and screaming, taking the wrong train home. You don’t tell him about the cavernous ache in your chest when he’s gone. You don’t talk about how empty your bed feels without him in it. And you do not ask about the mission.

You can feel his long exhale on your neck. Lips parted to kiss your jaw before bracing on his elbows, looming over you with a besotted look that you can never truly grasp being on the end of. Izuku brings your foreheads together and you wet your lips.

“I missed you,” he says, voice deepened with a thick sort of intent.

“So you’ve said,” a lazy smile unfurls, your hand at the nape of his neck bringing him in closer. His nose nudges your cheek and lips brush, lingering there for a few drawn out seconds, sharing in desire.

You tilt ever so slightly to close the distance and kiss him. His mouth is wind bitten, anxiety bitten, it’s gentle and innocent and you feel as his smile grows. Izuku answers with fervour, nipping at your lower lip, kissing each corner, humming a satisfied sound when you welcome him in. Kissing Izuku is like black and white—two extremes, never done halfway. There’s the chaste, romantic kiss on his way to work, a kiss he sorely refuses to go without, and there’s this; it’s voracious, needy and shamelessly wet.

The muscles in his arms clench as his grip on you tightens and you struggle to keep pace. Knees bend. Your legs spread to accommodate more of him. The couch groans beneath his movements. He draws you into his lap, shelved on thick thighs. You roll up against the swell in his sweatpants and he turns away from the kiss with a whimper.

In his distraction you trail kisses from the corner of his mouth to the soft hinge of his jaw. You play with the hair at his nape, barely any pressure behind the teasing touch. Licking a stripe along the column of his throat—angling away to bare himself to you, pulse quickening under your tongue—you reach the sensitive spot by his ear and gently blow.

“Baby—” Izuku shudders over you as his voice catches. Laid like this he is all you can see. It jolts his hips forward, seeking relief. You respond in kind, grinding against his cock with smooth, deliberate undulations. His eyes flutter, half crescent moons squeezed shut in pleasure. The bridge of his nose wrinkles as his mouth falls open, hands frantic in their greed and pawing at the soft parts of your body.

Izuku lets out a groan and pushes his face hard into the crook of your neck. The stubble scratches your skin. “What is it?” you ask, your mirth bleeding into the low murmur. His reply is muffled. “I can’t hear you, love”.

You wait as he turns his head to make his words clearer. “Wanna eat you out,” he says, fingers inching toward the hem of your hoodie. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it”.

“Yeah?” your brow furrows a tad and you tuck your chin in an effort to see his expression. You’re hesitant despite the tension that gathers in your abdomen. “Are you sure? You must be tired from your flight,” your thumb finds his mouth jutted into a pout. “Let me do something for you instead—”

A sharp inhale is all the warning you get before Izuku is up, grabbing your hips and dragging your body over the edge of the couch as he settles back on the floor. Caught in the momentum, the hoodie bunches up around your stomach, revealing how little you have underneath.

Izuku visibly gulps, mouth agape like a beast tasting the air. “This is for me,” he rasps, that hungry gaze sliding from your cunt to your face. He almost looks innocent, rubbing his cheek against your bare inner thigh. The stubble tickles. Your knees reflexively come together only to be met by resistance.

“What is…ah”.

Battle worn hands slide over your hips to your waist. You arch into it. His thumb strokes back and forth over your navel. “Sorry,” he grins sheepishly. “Is this okay? I—I still want to be able to touch you”.

Black tendrils are coiled around your thighs. They’re strong yet distinctly incorporeal, a faint warmth where they make contact almost like they were breathing. The grip is just enough to keep your legs splayed open. Laid out so plainly, you feel a flutter pass through you, clenching around nothing, arousal meeting tepid air.

“Yes. Yeah. It’s more than okay,” you swallow thickly. Reachinf to thread your fingers through his hair, you pause midway as a thought crosses your mind. “Oh, wait,” he watches you lean across to grab one of the decorative pillows and drop it next to him. “Put that under your knees, baby”.

It’s a silly thing, but Izuku’s legs are his weapons. He incurs some new type of bruising, laceration and fracture every day. You didn’t want his knees aching on the hard floors.

Izuku’s smile gentles in a way you’re wholly familiar with. Unfettered love, and the impending threat of tears. He does as you ask and returns his attention to your hips, appreciatively kneading the flesh. “You’re so good to me,” he mumbles in his descent, and you get the sense that it was for his own ears.

Your stomach jumps where his nose pressed to your navel. Izuku nuzzles his face there, reverential. He begins peppering kisses below your belly button, each wetter than the last. You feel all of it—the lift in his cheeks as he smiles, the inhale when he reaches your sex, the tender kiss he gives to the hood of your clit.

He meets your eyes from his position. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, your throat, your chest. Hot static prickles throughout your body. You hold his gaze and watch as his tongue lolls out, a string of spit stretching from the tip until it breaks. A small whisper of his name leaves your lips and it’s enough to spur him forward.

Wet and languid, his tongue strokes through your folds, coming to lay flat again and again. Nothing about it is precise. It’s messy and selfish, pure indulgence—purely for him, just as he said. Your legs struggle against the restraints as you chase the feeling. A puff of amusement comes from his nose, fanning over your skin.

“Fuck, baby. That feels good. Don’t…” your fingers curl into his hair, tight at the root. He moans unabashedly and the soft vibration makes you squirm. “There—don’t stop”.

You’re to do nothing but succumb to the hazy crescendo of your impending orgasm; to be pulled apart like dough in his covetous, warm hands; to feel the way he circles around your clit, finding your most sensitive angle, laving it with attention.

Spit soaks into the couch cushion beneath your hips. You can hear how wet you are. The sound rings in your ears and has heat crawling up your neck. Izuku’s breathing grows ever heavier. Tensing his tongue, flickering back and forth over your swollen clit, he sinks a finger inside you to the knuckle, fucking it in and out of you with a lazy come hither motion.

Another finger. Losing yourself to it a little, your fingers pull at his hair to hold his face against your cunt. Izuku whines, mumbling frantic incantations and praises. Your thighs clench, immovable in the grip of black whip. Pleasure throbs through your body like the beat of your heart, “Oh… Please”.

You fold into yourself, core drawn taut as your mouth drops open in a silent cry. Izuku’s pace doesn’t waver. He fucks you just right on his mouth, moaning with you as the tension snaps and you cum around his fingers, face slack with contentment in the clutch of your thighs.

A final tremor quakes through you. You drop back against the cushions, boneless and sated. Izuku steadily releases black whip and rises to meet your legs as they fall limp into the crooks of his arms. He forges a path of sticky kisses to your chest while you catch your breath, peppering them along your collarbones and throat, finally coming to rest against your mouth. You reciprocate lazily, tasting yourself on his tongue.

“Thank you,” he sighs, pressing a final kiss to your cheek.

“That’s my line,” you laugh, taking him by the jaw and swiping your thumb through the spit around his chin. “Made me feel so good. You’ll have to give me a minute before we go to bed”.

Izuku makes a small noise of complaint at the prospect of moving but he gets up anyway. Something playful passes over his expression. You take his proffered hand and squeak when he tugs you upright on weak knees. “I have an idea,” he tells you.

Held flush to his front you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he stands you on his feet. He waddles in place with you, tasting out his gait. Brimming newfound zeal he announces, “Okay. Let’s go!”

Suspended in a buttery hazy, you laugh, hanging on for the ride.

[modern-fairy]

Mossy stone bridges into a fairyland 🧚🏼

[greyyson-but-no]

five small moments | tommyinnit

let me know if you want me to do another one of these. they're really fun [not chronological order but can be from the same relationship]. tommyinnit x fem!reader

1 - tickling them from behind before hugging them [318]

you stood at the kitchen counter, stirring the tea with mossy cobblestone by bears in trees echoing from the speaker in the office. today it was only you and tom in the office, having the whole place to yourself as tommy streamed from his individual room and you edited on the shared computer for a new video that was supposed to come out tomorrow.

being so into the music (since it was tommy's playlist), you didn't hear tommy exit his office to sneak up behind you. a shriek came from you as his hands swiftly moved to your waist and tickled against the exposed skin. your heart rate increased slightly as a laugh came from you, tommy burying his face into your neck, pressing a tickling kiss to the skin there as well.

"tommy!" you laughed, listening as he laughed as well, squeezing your waist as the tickling came to a stop.

he moved his arms around your waist, pulling you against his front, a chin on your shoulder. the hoodie he was wearing engulfed you, and suddenly you were the calmest you'd been in ages. suddenly the song turned to ultimately by khai dreams and tommy was slowly starting to move to a sway, along with the soft beat of his favourite artist.

"tommy..." you asked slowly, head rested back against his shoulder, at the perfect height. "what are you doing?"

your boyfriend chuckled softly, enjoying the confusion. "nothing in particular. enjoy my time, that's all."

"you're cute." you giggled at him, turning around in his arms to pull him into a tighter hug, head against his chest. his arms move from around your waist to your shoulders as he holds you tighter than before. nowhere else did you feel as safe, nowhere else made you feel like you didn't need to be anywhere else. with tommy, you knew you were the safest you possibly could be.

2 - knuckles brushing against each others and getting shy [367]

the london vlog had been in the works for a few weeks now, but since ranboo could only just get to the uk in the past week, it could only have been filmed now. london was busy as hell, as usual, but that was good because it meant there were lots of distractions to keep the video on its toes.

tubbo and ranboo were walking ahead of you and tommy as the four of you walked down southbank. somehow, you and tommy had gotten distracted by the skateboarders under the bridge and so tubbo and ranboo were a few meters ahead. it didn't take them long to notice, but ranboo immideately noticed how close the two of you were standing together.

soon enough, the camera was directed at the two of you. "what do you think they're talking about?" tubbo asked, zooming in with the camera.

"i dunno, but they're both being rather cute about it, huh." ranboo declared.

it was then that your hand dropped from the railing, falling to your side and so close to tommy's hand that both ranboo and tubbo noticed, one of them reaching over to zoom the camera even more onto your hands brushing up against each others.

"just hold her hand, dude!" ranboo whispers, loud enough so that the camera can hear it. and then there were the actual skin touching. an obvious shy attempt of tommy's to hold your hand but the action was taken over by nerves as he pulled away and shoved his hands into his pockets. "c'mon!" ranboo cried, tubbo raising a hand in disbelief.

"i've been telling him to ask her out for months now." tubbo explained. "they're both idiots, though."

"they're both idiots whether its to do with the fact that they like each other not, toby." ranboo laughed, shoving tubbo slightly. "come on, lets walk on, they'll catch up eventually."

both you and tommy felt the disappointment in yourself that you didn't make the move that day. tommy was sure to get a teasing by both tubbo and ranboo during the sleepover thatg occured that same night. maybe he would ask you out the next day. since you were seeing each other anyway.

3 - one small kiss before a passionate one [484]

tommy held your hand at your front door, the moon high in the sky above the two of you as he smiled down at you. nothing in that moment could have taken the grin off your face. the first date with him went so much better than you expecting, a goofy session of bowling in town ending up in the park and getting locked in. he had hefted you over the fence to get out, both landing on your sides and not being able to get up from stomach-pain inducing laughter.

"thank you tommy." you smiled, watching as a chuckled sligjtly under his breath. "i had a really fun time tonight."

you felt his hand squeeze yours slightly. "even when we got stuck in the park."

"even when we got stuck into the park, yes." you nodded.

suddenly a comfortable silence took over, the rush of traffic at the end of the road and a slight breezing being the only sound. it wasn't bad, and you were even about to invite tommy inside. maybe to watch a movie or something, but he spoke first. it was a question that you certainly hadn't been expecting - but in no way does that mean you didn't want it.

"can i kiss you?" and maybe the nod you answered with was a little too eager.

tommy was still hesitant, though, reaching a hand slowly up to rest against the skin of your cheek, thumb caressing the skin slightly. it took you to nod again for him to lean down finally and press his lips against yours. it was everything you expected and more, but over too soon. nerves got the better of him and he pulled away, making it a simple little peck. not enough.

"sorry." he mumbles, a hand lifted away from your cheek and going around the back of his head to scratch the back of his neck.

your eyes softened, noticing how shy he became all of a sudden. it wasn't the tommy you really knew, but it was sweet and even endearing. you knew that he would appreicate the move you wanted to take, so you took it immediately. a hand reaching up to his wrist, using it to pull him down against your lips again. a longer, more eager kiss that represented how much you liked him. how much you wanted to ask him inside because somehow this boy had gotten you more smitten than with anyone else.

and when you pulled back, you didn't miss the excited look in his eyes that said he really did appraicte the move you made. that, and the small gasp he let out as he stood up straight. "woah."

"you're welcome." you laughed, grabbing his hand again. "i really don't want to say goodbye. did you wanna come inside and watch a movie?"

tommy smiled again, nodding. "only if there's popcorn."

"you under estimate me, tom."

4 - playing with each others hair [291]

the lion king was playing on the tv in front of you. the soft pillow that was your boyfriend was laying beneath you, arms wrapped tight around your waist, his face buried in your hair. ignoring the obstacle of the blanket that was laid over the two of you, you swiftly spun yourself around so that you were kaying stomach to stomach with tommy, being able to see the grin on his face when he saw yours.

"hi." he smiled.

you didn't say anything, just pressing a kiss against his forehead and resting your head alongisde his, nose against his hair. he moves so that there's one hand around your waist and the other moves up to your hair, twirling a strand of his around his fingers.

his hair didn't smell the same, though. instead of his usual shampoo smell he always had, there were a softer, more familiar smell to it that you recognised. you pulled away from him and frowned at him. "did you use my shampoo?"

"maybe..." he grinned slyly. "i ran out of mine, that's all."

you giggled at his words, a hand now in his hair, brushing the fluffiness around and twirling it inbetween your fingers. "no i don't mind at all. it's made it really soft."

tommy mumbled something, smiling up at you and pressing a surprising peck against your nose. "maybe i should use it more often, then."

"well, i certainly won't be complaining." you laughed, letting your hand fall from his hair and onto his chest, cushioned by his favourite hoodie. you let your head also fall onto his chest, feeling his arms squeeze you tightly as you closed your eyes and let yourself be comfortable around him. oh, how you loved him.

5 - small comforts while the other is crying [545]

your eyes were hot with tears that fell down onto your cheeks and then to the floor, some landing on your shoes as you ran up the stairs that led to his apartment. you didn't know why you had come here it seemed like he was the only that could comfort you enough to get you out of a mood like this.

the knock on his door was weak. weak enough that you were worried he wasn't going to hear it, but then you hear him call 'i'm coming!' from inside and all most of your nerves were gone. and just a second later, the door swung open, revealing tommy in jeans and that same hoodie you loved, his arms dropping from the edge of the door and the grin on his face dropping as he saw the look on your face and the tears in your eyes.

"love." he murmurs. "come here, oh my god."

you practically fell into him, the softed of his hoodie instantly becoming home and the sense of inevitable doom slowly whitling away into nothing. just a figment of your imagination. there were a small close of his door before he took your hand in his as he took you into the living room. he told you to ignore the show that was playing on the tv but you cold help but check to see whether you had seen it. you had.

he settled you on the sofa, taking you immeditely into his arms again, his cheek resting against your hair, unconsciously rocking you back and forth. worried started to overtake him, though, as thoughts of what could have caused this breakdown on you entered his mind. if it was something, he would make sure you never had to do it again; if it was someone, he would make sure whoever it was apologised and you got revenge.

but you were more important. "do you wanna talk about it? what happened, lovely?"

"uhh." your voice was shakey as you pulled away from him, using your sleeve to wipe the tears from your cheeks. "i can't-" you paused, gathering your thoughts. "i can't remember. i just suddenly felt so alone, there was no one around and i just felt so lonely so i thought i would come to see you and on the way i thought you wouldn't want me to interupt your day off so i turned back but then i started crying and now i'm here and i don't know why and i'm so sorry, oh god, you probably don't want me here-"

tommy laughed as he pressed his hand up against your mouth, stopping your fast train of thoughts in an instant. "you're rambling, love."

"sorry." you mumbled from under his mouth. he took it away frmo your face and took your hand in his again.

"you've got nothing to be sorry for." he explained, "i told you when i moved here that you could pop around any time you wanted and i wouldn't care less. you mean the world to me, and i couldn't stand you being lonely, ever. please, i'd rather you be here and not feel isolated than suffer at home."

you smiled, sniffing and leaning your head onto his shoulder. "yeah. thank you."

"always." he smiled, and your worries came to an end.

[silentsamlikesham]

I had to write more of this...they're just so adorable!! Bickering fools and birthday tickles ✨️

Sanji introduces Zoro to the concept of Birthday tickles- Around 2k words

................

“Fuck off, Curley.” Zoro growls, his hand going to his hilt as he takes a step back.

“No can do, Marimo.” Sanji is grinning, stalking forward with his hands resting in his pockets, doing his best to look nonchalant. 

“This is fucking stupid.” Zoro insists, flicking one of his swords up in anticipation.

“I told you, Mosshead. It’s tradition.”

Sanji is laughing now as he lunges forward, legs and swords hitting off one another as Sanji tries to wear him out, putting him completely on the defensive as Zoro’s hackles raise and he becomes hyper aware of where every limb belonging to the Cook is. For once, not just fearing his legs.

“Bullshit. I’ve never heard of this.” Zoro does his best not to whine, but even he can hear how desperate he sounds trying to make his point.

“What’s wrong, Mossy? Scared?” Sanji chuckles, getting an upper hand when Zoro surprises himself by hitting his back off the mast. 

He’s usually more in tune with his surroundings but thinking of last time makes Zoro feel uneasy. He can feel the hair on his arms standing upright as he panics and tries to block the kick that Sanji is lining up for.

The chef fakes it though, switching legs at the last moment and instead kicks Zoro’s wrist, forcing him to drop one of his Katanas. He’d only drawn two, so he tries to swing the other, but Sanji is expecting it and surprises the swordsman again by falling backwards into a bridge and kicking his leg upwards, knocking the other away.

If Zoro had been more focused, if he was more used to Sanji trying to disarm him, rather than pummel him, maybe he would have stood a chance. Instead, the blonde kicks Zoro’s legs out and Zoro falls back against the mast, half sitting up against it. He lets out a groan as he feels a pain blossoming from the back of his head. It’s not a bad bang, it wasn’t even enough to rattle his teeth, but the pain distracts him enough that Sanji lands on his lap, sitting up on his knees.

The smirk that rests on the idiot’s face is primal, a predator that’s just caught himself a snack.

“Happy Birthday, Marimo.” Sanji grins as his fingertips reach forward to drum on the side of Zoro’s ribs.

The green haired man flinches, laughing as he remembers what it felt like before, that electrifying current that can light up the nerves inside him.

“Aw, c’mon now Mossy, I haven’t even touched you yet.” Sanji teases, wiggling his hands so close that Zoro can feel it on the fabric of his shirt. But he’s right, the fucker isn’t even pressing into his skin yet.

Zoro can’t help it though. As a fighter he knows what to expect, always prepares for it. He knows how it’s going to feel, and the anticipation is dragging that panicked feeling from him, devolving into chuckles pushing past his pursed lips. 

“Fu-fuck off, dart-brows.” Zoro seethes, glaring at Sanji like he’s deciding the best way to slice the fucker to pieces.

“I told you; birthday boys get birthday tickles.” Sanji uses this moment to put his logic into reality as he digs into the swordsman’s ribs, scratching down along them before dipping his grip into Zoro’s sides, enjoying how the chuckles quickly turn to loud barks of laughter. 

“You’re twenty, right? Now I seem to have forgotten, should I count that as twenty spots to tickle or twenty minutes of tickling?” 

Zoro’s eyes, which had shut from the force of his laughter, open wide at the words.

“I will kill you before then.” Zoro manages to get the threat out in one breath, briefly composing himself as Sanji pauses for the answer.

“Is that so?” Sanji raises a brow in question, not looking too impressed or worried. 

In retaliation to the threat, Sanji squeezes his hips hard, digging his knuckles against bone and then into the soft dips. Zoro cries out as his hips thrash left to right, trying to dislodge the grip. 

Sanji leans forward then, his knees pushing against Zoro’s sides as his hands move upwards, trapping themselves beneath Zoro’s arms, his fingers brushing up from Zoro’s elbows to his armpits. The sensation feels like lightning on his skin, tickling everywhere Sanji touches and spiralling outwards across untouched skin in unexpected, jagged pulses.

Zoro’s laughter turns to softer giggles, his brain fighting against the urge to grab one of Sanji’s wrists and snap it. 

The blonde lets his head rest beside Zoro’s, leaning into his left ear. 

“You know, Marimo. I haven’t pinned your arms in the slightest. Yet, you haven’t moved them much.”

Zoro scrunches up his shoulders as the words tickle the inside of his ear, the feeling licking down his lobe and reaching behind his ear and down his neck. 

He can feel himself going red from the comment. He did not want to explain that he actually cared about hurting the Cook’s hands, and didn’t trust his own strength when he was acting outside of his own control right now. It wasn’t like he could control the laughter or the blush staining any inch of skin the ero-cook touched. How was he meant to trust himself to bat away a hand without shattering it in the process? 

That’s it, Zoro decides. He’s keeping his nakama safe…that’s the only reason he finds himself at the mercy of the Cook without trying to stop him…right-

“Blushing, Mosshead? I suppose it is close enough to Christmas to start decorating the ship in red and green.” Sanji drives the words home by moving one of his hands up to Zoro’s neck, ticking the right side of his neck as Zoro shakes his head, diving it towards his shoulder to try sandwich the wiggling fingers.

Instead, the block traps Sanji’s hand there without stopping the fingers, his laughter turning to giggles as the cook drums his fingers against the soft skin, running his fingers from jaw to collarbone. 

“Y-yo-haha-you nee-eehehe-need to shu-hahah-shut up.” Zoro kicks his legs, the weight of Sanji resting just above his knees leaves them useless.

“What? You don’t think I’m funny, Moss Head?” Sanji retracts his hands from Zoro, reaching behind instead to goose Zoro’s knees.

The next laugh that comes from Zoro’s lips sounds more like a wheeze as all the muscles in his legs seize up. Despite earlier reservations, he tries to grab at Sanji’s hands in a panic, but his efforts to grab Sanji’s wrists are in vain as the dick uses his body as a shield. 

“You seem to be laughing plenty at my jokes.” 

Zoro can feel his eyes wetting as fingers wiggle their way under his knees, tickling into the dip as the swordsman begin to beg.

“St-aphahaha-stop.” His chest is heaving now, his arms falling away from their retaliation attempt as he feels his limbs turning to jelly.

“Let’s see.” Sanji is drawling now, his words as slow as the fingers that have taken to gently tracing circles around his knees. “Ribs, sides, hips, armpits, elbows, biceps, neck, ears, kneecaps and underneath.”

Zoro withers beneath the words as Sanji reminds him of all the places he’s touched.

“That only sounds like ten to me, Moss. Only half-way there. Is there anywhere you aren’t ticklish?” 

He leans forward as he asks, pressing their chests together as Zoro glares up at him, not trusting the change of position. He was right to be suspicious as Sanji only raises from Zoro’s legs to reach his hands under himself and curl his fingers into the inside of Zoro’s thighs.

Zoro is nearly certain he’s never been tickled there before, but apparently, he is incredibly ticklish there as his laughter goes silent. He slumps back against the mast, yielding to it’s support as his muscles fail him, his arms even more useless than before.

Sanji is laughing as hard as the other, taken aback by the reaction as Zoro flails beneath him. He’s beaming at the discovery, digging his fingers in harshly before he lightly traces across the curve of the muscle.

It surpasses any other spot in terms of the panic that it sets in Zoro’s chest. This is going to kill him. The mighty pirate hunter Roronoa Zoro killed by gentle hands that know just how to dance across his skin with their tantalizing precision. No wonder they're the Cook’s  treasure. 

“I suppose we could forgo the other nine places…I could just do this for nine minutes instead.”

The teasing is burning Zoro’s face, this close he can feel the heat of Sanji’s breath as he speaks. Zoro knows if he doesn’t do something in the next thirty seconds, he’ll implode.

Sanji makes the mistake of pausing again, maybe to see if Zoro will try to say anything back. Zoro uses the opportunity to push off the mast and wraps his arms high over Sanji’s chest, his arms looping around to catch the back of the Cook’s arms. He draws them close, forcing Sanji to draw his arms to his back, his hands pulled away from Zoro.

He tries to reach out to continue his assault, but his wrists are now pressed into the small of his own back. He can feel Zoro’s biceps and forearms tensing around him as he traps his arms completely. 

“Didn’t take you for a hugger.” Sanji grins, his tongue half sticking out as he takes in the panting Marimo, his face red and sweaty as he does his best to glower at Sanji. Of course, he looks adorably ridiculous considering the tears that are glistening in his eyes, the smile that is pulling at his lips despite his efforts to frown. Sanji can’t help but laugh despite being immobilised by the brute.

Probably not the best move to make.

“You think you’re so funny, eh?” Zoro gives up on scowling and instead grins. He settles his hands that have looped around Sanji’s waist and presses them flat against Sanji’s sides. 

The blonde freezes, his bravo diminishing as he tries to flex his arms free but finds arms of steel unwavering against him. 

“It’s not my birthday.” Sanji does his best to keep his voice level, trying to sound as composed as possible as he throws the excuse at the green idiot.

“Consider it my present.” Zoro hums, enjoying the shiver he can feel move along the Cook’s spine. “Nine minutes, was it?”

Sanji sputters to come up with a retort that would get him out of this, but Zoro isn’t listening.

Sanji’s laughter cackles across the deck as Zoro scrapes his nails across any place he can reach with his hands as limited as they are. The blonde tries a few more times to wiggle free, but it’s pointless. 

He ends up slumping forward after the second minute, his strength gone as all he has the energy for now is laughing. His head ends up resting on Zoro’s shoulder as the swordsman continues his promise of nine minutes.

Sanji turns his head into the crook of the other’s neck, his laughter now turned to giggles as Zoro slows his pace.

“What? Can’t handle a bit of tickling, Cook? And just on your sides?”

Fuck.

Teasing did make it a hundred times worse, Sanji notes. He tries to speak some sort of reply but just ends up letting out raspy breaths instead.

He feels Zoro pause for half a second, his shoulder jumping beneath Sanji as the blonde cracks his eyes open from being twisted shut and notices a fresh blush on Zoro’s neck…Sanji laughs then, realising how open Zoro has left himself. 

“Oi, ma-mahah-Marimo. Happy Bi-rahah-birthday.” Sanji sucks in a deep breath before he pushes his face into the crook the Zoro’s neck, his lips land with an honest squeal from Zoro. Sanji blows a raspberry into the sensitive spot, the hands on him tightening and forcing him to laugh before he means to. It seems the laughter is just as ticklish against Zoro’s skin though and the swordsman frees Sanji from his hold to try pry the blonde off his neck.

They end up wrestling around the mast, both of them getting in jabs as their laughter mixes together. They stop when Sanji almost hurles himself face first into the mast, only being saved from a broken nose by Zoro grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling him away from it. 

They lie on their backs then, the ship rocking gently beneath them. The laughter has faded and now they softly pant, trying to find their breath. They eventually look at one another, both glaring initially before laughing again.

“When’s your birthday, again?” Zoro taunts, sitting up and supporting himself with a hand.

“I’ll never fucking tell you.” Sanji laughs at the scowl it brings to Zoro’s face.

“I’ll find out.”

“No, you won’t. Mosshead.”

“Eh? You think I’m so dumb I can’t, Ero-cook?”

“I never said that, but considering you’ve moss for a brain, it’s likely that’s true.”

The deck fills with the sound of another scuffle, more laughter and roars as the pair get fired up again.