#Tickle Cove

[dopescissorscashwagon]

Not the type of rock for lying down on to sunbathe, but still unique and beautiful! Lol Sediment rock in this area including red sandstone, siltstone & conglomerates.

Tickle Cove, NL

📸 by Mark Gray @mixolydian74

[akiacia]

(Scott was there too)

[gradienty]

Deep Cove Tickle Me Pink (#05203c to #fc73ae)

[oll13v3r]

Me when my otp is my self ship

[thingsdavidlikes]

Tickle Cove, Newfoundland by Gavin Hardcastle - Fototripper

[springseasonie]

Confession | LMH (M)

Best friend Mark x fem reader

Summary: you look beautiful and the time feels right, so he decides to confess.

Warnings: sexual content, big dick mark, unprotected sex, he's in love with you, he's also a bit of a freak, proofread (kinda)

Word count: 1,6k

Song recs: juno by Sabrina Carpenter

A/N: I wrote this on a whim bc I miss him and and need him in the least biblical way possible. Enjoy

"can I tell you something?" His breathy whisper tickled your ear, giving you goosebumps all over. Marks hands roamed your sides, his firm fingers pressing into your skin as you listen to his shaky breathing.

“tell me.”

“I really like you.” His lips press against your ear lobe, heat spreading in the lower parts of your body. His chest is pressed against yours, hearts beating in unison as he kisses the back of your ear down your neck. “I love you actually.”

“You love me?”

Mark doesn’t know if it was the alcohol that bought on this confession or maybe the fact that you just looked especially good that night. But it clearly didn’t matter, especially when your face was so close to his. You can’t keep focus, not knowing whether to look at his eyes or lips and he quickly too notice, simply making the decision for you.

His lips melt into yours, the calm sound of his heavy breathing and the fire place cracking making your stomach flutter. Mark moves his hands to your hips, pressing your pelvis against his. His lips tie into yours almost too perfectly like it's meant to be, tongue smoothly sliding into your mouth naturally.

“I need you,” you whine softly.”

Mark nods, quickly taking off his suit jacket and throwing it on the couch behind him. Your hands fly to his chest, tugging at his tie pulling it off. Mark pulls away from your lips, resting his forehead on yours. His eyes light up watching you unbutton his shirt, brows scrunched in a desperate attempt to get it off.

He cracks a smile feeling your hands run up his body right to back of his neck, pulling him in for another deep kiss while your fingers tangle in his hair. Mark sneaks his hands around you, resting his large palms on your ass. He can’t help himself, the feeling of your plush ass drives him insane. You whine feeling him squeeze you, making him damn near rock hard, and you can feel it. You can feel how hard he is for you, and you want it so badly.

Marks fingertips bunch your dress in his hands, fisting the fabric as he kisses you. “I want you to touch me baby,” he says softly.

That was all you needed, immediately shoving the man on the couch behind you. Mark fell with grace, his light brown hair coving his face in the most elegant way possible. The fire lot his face, his pretty brown eyes looking at you. Mark watches you bunch your dress at your hips, climbing on him to straddle his lap. He can’t keep his hands to himself, immediately pushing the fabric up your legs, gripping your thick thighs.

“fuck,” you sigh. He looks like a dream under you. The way the light from behind flickers against his features does wonders for you. You can’t hold back, wishing for this moment for a long time. Mark doesn’t stop you from unbuckling his belt and undoing his dress pants that are a little too big for him.

The silence is comforting, nothing but the sound of your shaky breath as you palm his hard cock through his boxers. You pump him slowly through the fabric, watching his face twist in pleasure.

“yes baby just like that,” he sighs in pleasure.

You could watch him all day if you could, but you can’t, not when you’re dying to feel him stretch you open. “do you have any condoms?”

Mark gulps, shaking his head. He thought you’d be completely turned off, but his lips parted when you reached into his boxers, soft hands wrapping around his shaft. Mark watches you pull him out the fabric, nearly moaning seeing the size of him.

“fuck I’ve waited so long for this,” you whisper. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, the way you pulled up your dress revealing that you were in fact not wearing anything underneath. Your breathing was erratic, too excited to see the way the man looked at you while your lifted your hips, pressing his tip to your pussy.

A gasp leaves your lips, brows furrowed as you sink down on his cock. His hands are on your back and hip, gripping the fabric of your dress as he watches himself disappear inside you. Your body is hot, not only from the fireplace but from the way he’s looking at you.

“that’s it baby, deep breaths,” he says softly, rubbing soothing circles on your thigh.

“you’re so big,” you whine softly. You press your hips down more, hands flying to his shoulders feeling him move deeper in you. He’s so overwhelming, but you can’t stop yourself from grinding, your body moving on Its own. “Fuck,” your whimper softly.

Marks grips your dress, pushing it further up your body. His breathing increases, heart shooting out of his chest as he watches you use him to pleasure yourself. You look so pretty in your formal attire, hair done, makeup done, wearing the necklace he bought for you. Your lips part, soft moans spilling as you moved your hips.

“God, I love you so much.” Mark tilts your chin down, kissing you deeply, tongue exploring your mouth. Your hips moved faster, moans falling into your mouth as he gripped your thigh tight. The kiss was hot and wet, both of your mouths absorbing the sinister sounds of pleasure. Mark pulls away from the kiss, your heavy panting becoming all the more noticeable.

“Just like that baby, you’re so good for me.”

Your body completely melted into his, hands gripping his shoulders tight. Mark loves the way your necklace falls into his face, you biting your lip softly as you ride him faster. Your whines turn into whimpers and moans, shaky sounds escaping your mouth just like he always wanted.

“Mark…oh my god.”

You’re so blinded by pleasure, you cant even tell when his thumb ended up in your mouth. Your plump lips wrapped around the digit, brows furrowed as you stared into his eyes. The man pulls his thumb out your mouth, saliva still connecting the two of you together.

“I love you so much,” he moans, other hand gripping your hip. “All mine, right?”

You nod fast, feeling yourself get even more turned on. You clench around him, hands trembling on his shoulders. “I-I’m so close mark,” you moan.

“You’re gonna cum on my cock? Like a good girl?” Mark holds your hips, thrusting into you like his life depended on it. Body hot, sweat on his brow while pleasures you. You tried to be quiet, not wanting to draw any attention to the room, but you just can’t control yourself anymore. He feels so good inside you, like he’s made for you.

“yes, yes. I’m your good girl..”

Mark keeps fucking you, his grunts and moans sounding like music to your ears. He wants to keep going forever, but that feeling starts brewing in his stomach. He’s so close he might explode if you squeeze around him one more time. “Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum,” he moans. Mark tries to lift you off his lap, but you remove his hands.

You say nothing when you push his body deeper into the couch and start riding him like there’s no tomorrow. Whines and whispers escape from both of your lips, the feeling of an orgasm so close you could taste it. You kiss him, tongue immediately going down his throat and he enjoys it, moaning into your mouth.

That’s when you feel it, the right ball in your stomach becoming undone, clenching around him nice and tight as you break the kiss, high pitch sounds bouncing off the walls and into his ears. Mark follows immediately after, cumming deep inside your tight cunt with his jaw dropping at the feeling.

You collapse on his body having completely sweating out your hair, dress, and makeup. You don’t have to look into a mirror to know your look a mess. Lipstick everywhere, sweat fucking up your makeup, dress wrinkled to an unrecognizable degree. Mark doesn’t look any better. His shirt is half way off, hair all over the place and now his once perfectly ironed slacks are wrinkled.

“Holy fuck,” you huff out, still trying to catch your breath. Mark looks up at you, brows raised with a pretty smile on his face. “Can’t believe we just did that.”

“it was bound to happen.” Mark’s eyes light up when you giggle. “I’m so in love with you.”

Regardless of the fact that you just had sex with him, you still can’t handle how mushy and romantic he is, his words making your flustered. Mark knows you can handle it, so without letting you respond, he kisses you. Lips molding with yours, his tongue on yours tasting you. It feels like you’re the only people in the world, the way he grips your waist, pulling your body closer to him.

Both of you know you cant stay in this room, but you don’t protest when he caresses your face, thumb on your lip pulling your mouth open along with your tongue. The man licks up your tongue slowly, drawing a breathy moan you. He wraps his lips around the wet muscle, sucking it softly making you clench around his no semi hard cock that’s still inside you. You fell him thrust into you softly, but you can’t let him knowing you want to.

“wait,” you say breathlessly, pulling away from his lips. “we-we can’t stay here.”

“we can if you wanna go for round two.”

You look at him, biting your lip softly. “you don’t think we’ll get in trouble?”

“I don’t care about getting in trouble.”

Against your better intuition, your lips lock with his once again, his hands all over your body continuing his confession for the rest of the night.

[edenesth]

[9:15 PM]

"Oh my god, that guy is totally your type!" a girl squealed, nudging her friend to look at the gorgeous man across the street.

Her friend giggled, shushing her, "You're right, but stop being so obvious! He's gonna think we're weird!"

"I doubt it. If anything, I think he's already got his eyes on you," she replied, nodding towards him. And she was right—he was looking in her friend's direction, a charming smile on his face as he bit his lip shyly. "Will you go talk to him?"

"I-I mean, I don't know..."

Oh god, I don't need this right now.

You rolled your eyes, eavesdropping on the conversation in front of you. Typical young girls. The light had turned green, and they were still busy debating whether to approach the tall, handsome guy across the street. "Excuse me. Last I checked, your father doesn't own the road. If you're not planning to move, please step aside. Some of us have places to be," you grumbled, pushing past them.

One of them scoffed, annoyed. "Ugh, whatever! Keep that attitude, and no man will ever want you, lady!"

You snorted, nodding sarcastically. "Yes, thank you. I definitely need advice from delusional little girls like you."

"Wha—delusional?! Who do you think you're calling delusional…" Her words trailed off as she watched you walk straight into the welcoming arms of the dreamy guy they had been ogling moments ago. The realisation hit, and embarrassment washed over them. That man had been looking at you all along, not at either of them.

Your boyfriend chuckled, holding you close and kissing your head. "Oh my love, you're so cute when you're annoyed. Did you really have to call them out like that, hm? They would've realised I was yours by the time you got here anyway."

You huffed. "I'd like to see you be so graceful if you heard two guys talking about me the way they just did about you."

He grinned, squeezing you tighter. "Oh baby, you know damn well that I can handle it."

Pulling away slightly, you glared up at him, irritated because he was right and you knew it. This annoyingly perfect man. "I do, and I hate that you're right." He laughed, leaning in to capture your lips in a loving kiss. "Oh come on, you know you love it."

"I do love it... love you, Yuyu."

He softened. "I love you too, baby."

Biting your lip, you cupped his face. "Tell me, my wonderful amazing boyfriend... are those two still watching?"

"Oh my god," he rolled his eyes. "Were you just trying to show off and make them jealous? They left as soon as they realised what was happening."

You groaned, pushing him away and starting your walk back to your shared home. "Ugh, you're telling me we did all that and no one even enjoyed the show?"

He gasped. "A show?! Come here, you—"

Little did you know, that was a lie. The girls were still watching enviously as he chased after you, your shrieks echoing across the quiet streets on a Wednesday night as he tickled your face with endless kisses as playful punishment.

Damn, I guess we were quite delusional...

ATEEZ Masterlist

Look what you did to me, @itstheghostofmypast, I haven't been able to stop thinking about Yuyu lately and it's all your fault🙈💕besides that, man's been looking mighty fine lately, it's hella annoying.

Hope y'all enjoyed this random little timestamp HAHA and as always, let me know your thoughts! <3

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 |

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho |

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline |

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1 |

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha |

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte |

@bangtannie7 @vtyb23

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[sugarbcnes]

✮ ┆dessert. ethan landry

— addicted to your taste, ethan desperately needs to fix his sweet tooth. drabble

warnings female reader, cunnilingus, semi-public, oral (female recieving), use of ‘cunt’ 426 words

navigation

YOU HAD DRAWN BLOOD. Your bottom lip swelled and pulsed under the stress of the white bone, surfacing blotches of red underneath your glassy Fenty lipgloss.

Your parents were beyond thrilled when you announced the news that you were bringing home a boy for the holidays, let alone the personification of a puppy dog.

Regardless of his excitement to meet your family, staying in your parent’s house came with its downsides. Going home for the holidays meant spending time with your family. Spending time with your family meant no privacy and no privacy meant less time Ethan could spend with his face stuffed in your cunt just as he was at that very moment.

He could not be deeper if he tried, nose nudging your swollen clit as his tongue lapped at your soaked walls.

Dress bunched above your belly button and your leg hiked over his shoulder, Ethan knelt on the bathroom floor as you gripped the marble basin of your Aunt’s guest bathroom.

You laced your fingers through his messy curls, not a single care in the world if the ring on your finger that he bought you for your birthday got tangled as your nails scratched at his scalp and gripped his hair in a bunch.

The accidental tug of his locks elicited the rumble of a moan from his throat, the sound’s vibrations tickling your centre.

“Fuck,” your hips jerk forward to grind against his mouth, his smooth tongue flicking your clit and dragging it in between his lips.

Staring at the clock on the wall, you winced. 9:22pm. You knew for a fact desert was brought out seven minutes ago.

“Ethan,” you whisper, voice husky, “we need to go- fuck!”.

Ethan never meets your gaze, too focused on the sweet taste of your juices on his tastebuds. His favourite dessert.

You became dizzy at the squelch of his long fingers sliding into your hole, coaxing you closer to your orgasm. With one final stroke of his tongue flattened on your cunt, you gush on his mouth. He looks up at you; full lips coated with a thick layer of the silky, sweet substance.

As he stands, your white dress drops to its normal position above your knees.

A florid blush paints his soft cheeks, his nose nudging yours as he kisses your lips gently.

“Do you not understand what the word ‘behave’ means?”

Your scolding has his face hiding in your neck, kissing over the gold ‘E’ pendant that hangs in the cove of your décolletage.

“ i’m sorry,” he mumbles, hands on your waist, “was sick of waiting for dessert.”

© lvrlina 2023 — do not copy, repost or translate my work onto any other platforms without my permission.

[astralnymphh]

why is it always about ellie pleasuring us and never about us pleasuring her??? like I wanna edge then and then overstimulate her till she cries 👉👈

right?? like.. ugh especially with a vibrator !! mdni. mama petname used. sub!ellie. bratty behaviour. blah kind of a lazier drabble focused more on dialogue im just practicing for pccb (pretty cunt central, baby: a fic) 1.5k+ wc.

⤹ edging ellie with a vibrator ⋆ . ☣

Hung like a vignette upon her lain body, Ellie was vulnerable. Accelerated in the pump of her blood. Cold of her sweat, beading clammy condensation on her cheeks, a single bang strews itself across that muggy biome of skin— somehow looking darker as it soaks up her wet frustration. The bedspread, however, drank up a lethal amount of her crying sweat. A dull radiograph beneath her, turning lilac hue of her blanket—mauve, marking her body with a vignette of her own.

Ellie on her back, thighs broadened on each side of you, and you fully kneeling with cold toes wedged into the chub of your ass, is your position. Skimpy end of her pubic bush tickled your belly button whenever she scoots closer, eagerly trying to rub her greedy pussy on you— fuck, you cherish those little antsy movements.

"Fuckin'— unhhh— nuhnonono babe, baby.. fuck, c'mon!" her words drove on a groan, snapping into an upset whine when a certain toy was drifted from her beaming cherry clit.

Fun. Fun is what you gain from this, and it fed you with hormones to perceive it in that light. Your thumb planes plumb on a flat button, the surrounding indentation kissing your print as you let it sit softly, no vibrations to numb it.

Ellie chases your detach with her hips bucking and legs arisen, sticking out her cunt for that damn toys' bulbous head, "Mama— please, fuck.." the whine leavens, straining in her clench of stress.

She is so fucking handsome, cute— alurring with that glassy daisy nose. Buttony and speckled like a daisys lemony pistil, but glossy as a pearl washed upon a rocky cove, orb of luster on the tip to prove it. Fairest terra of her skin, has gone scarlet against the pale sand of her cupids bow, which she rolls inward to her bottom lip in even more neglect of her edging. Too fucking cute.

"Yeah, you fucking like that?" you flipped the toy on and jabbed it into her clit, provoking her hips to jerk in regret and her legs to clamp in on you— to which you dug your free hand into the plush hind of her thigh, stretching the web of your thumb and pointer, and craning that shit 'till her knee nearly kissed the mattress. Sprawled like a bitch in heat.

"Fuck fuck fuck! N— ohhh my guuh, haah—" Els bolted her eyelids to a creasing shut, scrunching up to her nose as you sunk that vibrator head in vertical drags, watching her pretty pussy lips swallow the ridge of it, "uhhhnn t'can't, cuuhh— uh!" blabbered she.

Your blabbering mess. Jolting up her pussy for you, the bulge of its aroused state really catching your eyes.

"Can't what, baby?" you coo belittleingly.

A nubby mass pushes your nude hips into her butt, thereafter you realize her heel was nudging you close, because she longs for your closeness, to be near when she cums.

Strias of breath warble from her throat, panting in dainty breaks, "Huhh— ha, uhh babe, m'wanna cum for you, cum with my pussy all over y—you, y—yeah.." her tune turns squeaky, enticing you with that weak coo, only to grow pouty and sassy, "stop be— uhhn, being a dick.."

A brow arches in amusement, "What was that?" you curl in feigned curiosity, lifting the whirring bulb with a webbing of her slick gluing from the verge of her hole to the plastic tip.

"Fuck—" a dramatic pulling of pants rise again, chest aswell, vocal chords calming, "you're just getting me back for teasing you, hmm?"

"Yes.." you spur from lying, sounding proud.

Rose buds of her lips curl in as she chugs air, gazing so doey—eyed at you through lashes sodden in faint tears. Those fucking brows curved in at the base of her nose, making her look so— dizzied, like she was about to pass.

She hikes up onto her elbows, pressing her hot buttcheeks harsh into your thighs until they splat. Ellie just knew, by the twist of your words and the crescent carving below your nose, you enjoy this. "God, you.." a sigh leaves her, cheeks inflating, "you fucking like this."

You frill, "Mhm."

"Fuck you."

Faking offense, you dusk your lids to a slit, glaring, "Scuse me?" stern with a smile, you winch a hand behind you— wrapping around another toys girth, "wanna talk t'me like that?" you press the vibrator back to her clit, swerving your other hand 'round and dipping the spade of a purple dildo into her hole— fast, stretching her lips open and bottoming 'till the small silicone balls squished her perineum.

"Shit!" yelped she, sudden lunge of her large mitt now grappling the hand on her thigh and burrowing bowed nail marks deep in your wrist, second hand clawing the cotton sleeve of her pillow.

You smack the balls hard on her wet skin, draining every bit of precum from her filthy gaping pussy— which landslides in between her ass. Drawing strings and strings from her cervix, the squelch arouses your ears, flushing them in heat.

"Yeah?" you silken a muse at her choked and elongated moans, dazzling the front of your knuckles in slick with your speed, "slutty fucking pussy, lookit' her— clenching that cock in."

It hadn't even washed over you that she was already cumming, bubbly sounds of her piped squirt swelling into your ears— thenn the little spurts come and the pooling of white cream licking up the pumping veins spatters your belly, riling you the fuck up. You didn't let up, nuh—uh, not when her raised brows, banshee—wailing mouth and ghastly eyes made you feel hot inside your own cunt, striving for overstimulation.

"Ohhh my god— huhhnn.." Ellie groaned, tatted arm flexing it's veins and yielding pigment from her fingertips.

You slipped the dick out like butter— her labia kissing closed, and slap it down on her swollen folds, noise coiling, getting her to jerk and push out more slicky finish, "There you go— good girl, cummin' for mama?" you steady the vibrator, letting it torture her convulsing clit for an.. untold range of time, whatever floats your boat.

"Uh'huh.."

Nimble as ever, you glissade the dick up her torso, crushing her slobber webbed lips with the pussy—reeked tip, "Mhm, that's right, open up babe.." asking of her with a satiny softness taking over that cold voice.

Spit drools down her chin as she caves her gob over, pupils colliding as she crosses her eyes in, "Ghh— uhhhahnn.."

"Don't talk.." you enlist a ruder tug on her clit with the vibe, forcing all that sweet syrupy cum down that throat of hers in droplets off the dick, "suck that fucking cock.."

Obeying, she rumples the plump coral skin around the thickness and drags them over the texture, pulling them out slightly. Cream white began to build at her pie���hole, cherry pie lips, a la her scarfing gags spitting everything that wanted to travel down. Little 'guh, guh, guhhs' bounced off her larynx, a fucking angel soprano to your ears.

However, she just couldn't stop thrashing. Past her point of please, were her non—verbal pleads of relief. Relief from that whirring device, rolling her butt deeper into the mattress now opposing the chase.

Ellie's quivering right arm fleets up and grabs your wrist, shanking the hell—sworn cock out of her mouth with spit connecting, messy girl, "Nonono, fhck— too much t'much 'tmuhh— ahh~" she gabbles, locking her butt up and humping up into the air void of intention.

Too much.

Too much..

Not enough.

"You know this baby," a bastion of even more pride instills your craving cunt, winding your knees smushed into the bed and crawling over her, body casting dark in your vignette, chastising "Ellie doesn't get a break 'till I cum too, 'kay?" you whisk the toy away, just for a second.

The bitter burn of tears piggyback over her bottom lids, squeezed out like orange juice and glossing like her wet and mucky slit did, both squinting at your actions. A snotty sniffle flows into her woozed words, "C—can I at least tou—uhh, touch you.. babe?" red puffy eyes gazing into yours with such want, skipping momentarily to search for any expressive sign of a reply.

"Sure baby, sit up— but don't close those fucking legs." you accept her ask, watching that ruffly—haired girl scoot up with such excitement.

Ellie sits vanward still, slouching with widely spread legs and a timid hand reaching for your cunt, the contrary paw dropping and fondling the cushion of your butt cause she just couldn't help the urge, tucking her head in the warm hearth of your neck— latching a bite so she may distract herself from what you're about to do.

You take her hand and invite it in, feeling her fingertips divide and tease your folds and her teeth nipping tiny spots of flesh into her dried chuckling mouth like a goat grazing, giving you the green light to creep the toy on her bloated bud, once more.

"I fucking love playing with you."

[iwrite-sinsandtragedies]

Day 7 — Reunion ₊˚✧ ﾟ

Submission for @olba-week-event

MC: Ai/Sky

Liz: Don't worry, Cove has been losing out to his own dad for years 😌✨ Cove: Hey...😅 Baxter: And now he must share her with me as well, what a pity. 😏💨 Cove: Guys! 😒 Pam: Careful you two, if you make Cove cry Ai is liable to withhold all cuddles for the rest of the visit!🤭 Cove/Lani: Pam! 😫😂 Baxter: Well, we can't have that. I don't think my heart could take it. Liz: [snickering] You coward. Baxter: 😌 I'm a weak man, I admit.

Look, Ai can't help it if she's a certified Daddy's Girl 😂 Clifford will always come first, even over her husbands! 🤣 /jkjk

Also, ngl, I cannot express to you how much I laughed while drawing this (frustrations about doing a seven person piece aside cough) There's something about the idea of Elizabeth and Baxter interacting that just tickles me in the best of ways 💖the class - the sass - they were just meant to be banter buddies and I love them dearly for it.

Also, forgive the inconsistencies in character design, I fucked up on this piece so many times that at some point I just said 'the hell with it' and started doing my own damn thing LOL - so they have slightly different clothing 🤷‍♂️it all worked out in the end (also, I am so tired of backgrounds oh my god, I could not force myself to do another one so you get a screenshot instead, sorry not sorry lmaoo).

Anyways! That's it for the OLBA Week for me! It was fun! I hope you all enjoyed my silly little scribbles and I'll see you next time! 👋🥰

[wroteclassicaly]

Thinking about seeing a Friday the 13th double feature at the theater with best-friend Steve. You’ve both seen them on VHS countless of times, not to mention when they arrived on the big screen. But you again because he knows you prefer horror to any genre. He’s watching you when he thinks you’re not looking, and is completely oblivious when you’re staring at him. Fingers brushing sharing a popcorn, one large Coke to drink with one straw to share - the other fell between the seats, but neither of you care.

It’s he who jumps first, his massive waves tickling your face as he buries his head into your neck, stubble scratching along your jugular (where your pulse suddenly begins to race). He can feel it, and no one has time to react as a shattering of glass from the movie makes you react this time, curling around him. You just simply… hold one another and then you’re releasing with ease. Heartbeats unsteady, Steve briefly bouncing a jean clad knee, Nike shoe sticking to the floor. And you, you’re chewing on your thumbnail, nearly peeling the fresh black paint free.

By the time the movie ends, however, barely anyone can see the two of you backed into a cove by the snack counter. Coke soaked lips, salted butter and sweet candy coated treats on your tongues, his breath mingling with your own, to the wet sounds of your kissing. Your back is piled into the plastered wall, neon in your peripherals, one massive hand pinching at the lace trimming at the bottom of your shirt, the other cupping your face, fingertips tracing at your neck’s nape - making sure you can really feel him, what he can do. You cling to his shoulders, arms beneath his arm pits, squeezing the muscles beneath. Occasionally, he’ll switch up the path of his mouth and allow it to dance across your jawline, over your ear, ending at your neck, that nose nudging all across your face with each kiss.

You’re buzzing, shivering inside. His pupils are blown, glazed over when he does look at you, colors of red, blue, pink, orange, and purple hues reflected in his irises due to the scenery.

More. You want more. You need more. You have to have more.

And so does he…

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 12

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: yuhhhhhh.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Gulls flap across the cornflower sky. Thin wisps of cloud crest beneath the gemlike sun, shining at you with a blinding gleam. You shield your eyes with your hands as Sy steers along the crooked backroad around the cliffs the face the coast.

Aika pokes her head out between the seats as she sits in the back. She is your only comfort on the long journey to a beach you’ve never been before. 

You don’t ask where you’re going. You wouldn’t know the difference, you only know that most people head to West Cove. You jostle with the truck. The sun reaches its apex. It’s a bit late to just be getting to the beach then. 

Yet, he doesn’t stop. He keeps driving. Around the rocky crags and cliffside, on and on, through the scatter of trees, and past that. You can still see the water but the clock ticks on. 

You sit up, more rigid than ever. You haven’t been able to relax but you’re on edge as you realise how far you’ve gone. How long he’s been at the wheel. 

“Everything okay, sweetie?” He asks. 

“Y-yeah. Um... does Aika need to go?” 

“She’ll let us know, don’t ya worry,” he chuckles. “Pretty, ain’t it? The water?” 

You peer around him as the water now stands at his shoulder. 

“Shouldn’t we be going towards the coast?” You ask. 

“We’ll get there, sweetie,” he assures you. “Just a little further. Didn’t I mention I got a surprise?” 

“Erm, no. A surprise?” 

“Don’t wanna spoil it,” he smiles and runs his hand over his beard.  

You shrink down and go silent. You don’t want to push him. You can’t help but hear the echo of his booming voice and the crack of plaster around his head. No, you won’t do that again. 

You come in sight of a house. The siding is beaten wood, the blue paint chipping away, and there’s a crooked shed around one side. The pillars of the porch are dusted with dirt and the old windows boarded up. A tickle creeps up your spine as Sy steers toward it. 

“Surprise,” he blusters excitedly. 

“Surprise?” You squeak and stare at the house. 

“It’s a beach house,” he proclaims proudly. You don’t have the heart or the courage to extinguish his excitement. Does he not see how decrepit it is? 

“A beach house?” 

“Oh yeah,” he shuts off the engine. “Just us.” 

“Wow,” you breathe. 

He laughs so loud it makes you flinch. He slaps his hand down on your thigh and squeezes, “don’t be so nervous. We’re gonna get it all cleaned up. Won’t take much.” 

“Mhm,” you hum as you look down at his large hand. You gulp and he lets you go. 

He gets out and you look at Aika. Her wet nose touches your cheek. Sy whistles and she hops between the seats and follows him out the open door. You climb out on your side and peer up at the house in dread. 

“Sy, it’s... it’s gonna be dark in a few hours though.” 

“Well, we won’t be driving back now,” he scoffs. “We’re gon’ be here a while. Just you and me. Like a honeymoon or such.” 

Your heart sinks. This man took over your life barely two days ago and he’s talking like you’re married. Worse, you let him bring you out to who knows where. Why hadn’t you been paying attention? 

“I’ll just get it opened up and air it out,” he says as he marches up to the porch. 

You watch him. Stunned. You really can’t believe this. It can’t be real. You scratch your scalp as panic razes through your skin. Aika sits on the steps and you turn back to the truck. You don’t understand... 

You go around the bed of the truck. It’s covered. And locked. You can’t pull it open. 

You hear him stomping before he appears. You quickly move away from the truck and pretend that you’re admiring the wooden bench amid the patchy grass. He calls your name and you turn to him, swallowing your fear down deep. 

“Wanna come see? Got a flashlight.” 

He wiggles the yellow plastic and clicks the button. He hits it to make it turn on. You blow out a breath and nod. You go to him, choked of your voice. 

He waves you ahead of him. You enter as he shines the flashlight around you. There’s furniture draped in sheets and an old cross stitch hung over a chest of drawers. There’s a fire stove that could be a century old and a carpet with fraying edges. You don’t know if this place is forgotten or condemned. 

“Get the boards down, get the dust out, and it’s perfect. Isn’t it?” He purrs as he comes up and puts his arm across your shoulders. 

You wince and nod. He guides you along as he aims the light into the kitchen and the stove that looks right out of a mid-century advert, well maybe if it got a fresh coat of paint. He squeezes you closer and stops. 

“You alright, sweetie? You quiet?” 

“Yes,” you sniff, “y-yeah. Like you said. It’s a surprise.” 

“Now I know you wee probably looking forward to the beach today but we’ll get this place nice and cleaned up and have a good fire. I brought stuff for smores. Heh, another surprise. Then tomorrow, we’ll have the whole day in the sun.” He waves the flashlight around, “you know, it’s not ten minutes walk to the shore. I know a shortcut.” 

“That’s... great,” you eke out. How does he know this place? 

“I’ll get the windows open. How about you pull them sheets off the furniture?” He suggests. 

“Okay,” you agree softly. 

You turn and go back down the hall. Aika watches through the door. You’re trapped here with this mad man and his trained dog. There’s no way out, even if you did know where you are. 

All you can do is distract yourself for as long as you can. Take your time, stay busy. It’s once you have nothing to do that he’ll be able to do anything he wants. 

You work at uncovering all the furniture. Then you find a cloth to dust the surface. Sy tosses the boards from the windows in the yard and you take the straw broom form the corner to sweep the floor. The sky ripples as the sun sets and you work in the dimming haze. 

Sy lights an old lantern, struggling to catch the wick. He leaves it with you as he takes the flashlight. He mutters something and continues into the shadows the hallway. There’s a clatter and Aika taps through the open door with breeze. She stops as her snout points after her owner. 

Thump, thump, thump, thump... the noise whittles off and you look down as you hear noise beneath you. There’s a basement? You wait as Aika keeps vigil, unmoving. You scratch the floor with the bristles as you try to get up as much dirt as you can. 

There’s a crackle and some more creaking. Sy thunders back up the stairs and you look up as he searches the wall. He twists a switch and shuts off the flashlight. The tinted bulbs on the wall light up.  

“Found the generator,” he says. “Look at you. Looks good in here.” 

“Um, yeah,” you continue to brush the floorboards. 

“Should I make up the bed?” He asks coyly. 

You put your head down as you move with the broom, “well, I am getting tired.” 

“Tired...” he mutters. “Mm, sure, but we’re still gonna have a fire, huh? It’s a nice night.” 

You nod, “if that’s what you want.” 

He sighs, “hm, I’ll... I’ll go fix up the bed then.” 

You know he’s disappointed. You’re trying to play along but you’re terrified. As the crickets buzz louder and you hear the forest cracking and swaying, the desolation sets in. Your hopelessness cannot be staved off much longer. 

Mistake after mistake, you can’t help but blame yourself for this. He might be the villain, but you set yourself up. You started that Instagram, you didn’t pay enough attention to security, you spoke to him at the grocery store, and you let him take you home. You let him invade your life and when you finally tried to get him out, it was already too late. 

It is too late. 

You still the broom and squeeze it. You stare at the window. You're lost. Entirely. 

He comes back out and you flinch. You try to shake off your despair. It clings but you make yourself smile. You lean the broom against the wall. 

“Can I help?” You ask. 

“Help, er, sure.” He accepts, “I got some fresh stuff in the truck.” 

He ushers you ahead of him. You go outside and he’s close behind. The keys jangle as he comes up next to you and you walk with him to the bed of the truck. He unlocks it and you nearly collapse. He drags out a large plastic bin. What is all this? It’s like he’s moving... 

How long has he been planning this? 

You step back and blink. You’re woozy with horror. All this stuff, you don’t think he’s planning on leaving. 

“Ah, this one,” he drags out another container. “Got the sheets in there.” 

He lifts the big blue bin and you take another step back. You shake your head as you stagger around dumbly. He doesn’t notice as he hauls the container in his arms toward the porch. 

“Be a sweetie and get the door,” he says. 

“No,” you wisp and clear your throat. “No,” you say loud as you stumble back. “No, no!” 

You shake your head as he turns to you, his face contorted in confusion. You spin and nearly trip over your own feet. You burst into a sprint. You’re not thinking. It’s purely your body moving on fear alone. 

You pump your arms and lift your knees, heading for the spatter of trees. They aren’t thick enough to hide you completely but you might be able to weave around fast enough to lose him. And then... 

Then... 

You don’t know. All you know is that you have to keep going. You can hear him. His footsteps crush through the twigs as he hollers, “Aika.” 

He whistles as you puff shallowly through the pain in your chest. Go, go, go. It isn’t fair. It’s two against one. 

You get past the first few trees as you hear his next order but don’t understand it. It’s in that other language. You’re hit from behind, a toppling force that sends you onto your stomach. You land painfully in the dirt as Aika stands on your back and growls in your ear. 

“Aika, please. You’re a good girl,” you plead, “Aika, off! Aika--” 

“She don’t know English,” Sy snarls as stomps up behind you and kicks your foot.  

You whimper and drop your head down. Your stomach, knees, arms, hands, legs, even your cheeks are scraped from your fall to earth. And fall you did. Back to reality. 

“Please,” you snivel. “Please, Sy. Take me home. I’m scared.” 

He sighs and snaps his fingers. Aika quiets and hops off of you. She turns as she stands by your head and Sy approaches you from behind. He pulls you up and turns you to face him. 

“You are home, sweetie,” he grits through his teeth. 

You pout and shake your head, “no, Sy. Why? Why are you doing this to me?” 

“Doing what?” His forehead wrinkles and his eyes dull. “I’m takin’ care of ya. What do ya mean?” 

“But... we can’t stay out here.” 

“Why not?” 

You stare up into his eyes. They’re empty. Like before. Like when he went rabid. You squirm and grab at his thick fingers. 

“Because,” you exclaim. “I don’t know you.” 

He winces and blinks. His throat bobs as his head tilts back and forth. He squeezes your shoulders and huffs, “no, no, you know me.” 

“I don’t,” you whine. “I don’t know you.” 

“You do. You do.” He insists. “You spoke to me. You smiled at me. Every night.” 

Your lip quivers and your tears overflow, “Sy,” you sniffle, “Sy, you... you... you’re not a bad guy, you’re just confused. Please, I know you don’t want to hurt me so take me home.” 

He closes his eyes and sucks in through his nose. His chest rumbles and he his breath out slow. His lashes lift. His pupils swallow up his irises. You shiver at the pools of black. 

“Captain,” he snarls. “I am your Captain.” 

[sunnysanae]

their favourite kind of affection

scenario. the genshin boys and their favourite type of pda. includes. zhongli, ayato, cyno, tighnari, scaramouche, childe, thoma settings. fluff, modern!au, gn! reader

zhongli waist cupping

the ex-archon found peace of mind in wrapping his large, gloved hands around your hip. his slim fingers liberally draping off your hip bone, occasionally stressing to cusp the tender skin of your abdomen. you often wandered off in public, ending up lost and teary-eyed, his hand was there to prevent that. zhongli wanted to guide you to the places he's always promised he'll take you to, while showing everyone you were his.

ayato arm in arm

ayato enjoyed taking you on short promenades, to festive gatherings, and on cute picnic dates. having you interlink your arms with his elbows, feeling you lean on his bicep, embracing him; as the two of you paddle elbowing each other to your desired destination. the exchange of smiles and blossomed laughter enveloping the centimetres of distance between you. having you close in proximity assured his heart, knowing you'll be by his side, arm-in-arm, no matter what.

cyno neck nestling

burying himself in the warm cove of your neck, nuzzling his nose on the delicate, sensitive flesh of your nape. as his ears drooped down, their ends tickling your shoulders. humming casually, as his canine teeth occasionally grazed your collarbone. the adorable gesture emerged on lazy sunday mornings, as you leaned into the work on your desk, and as you stood over the stovetop cooking your favourite foods. cyno found safety and comfort in the home you shared, more so in you.

tighnari kisses

he was never planning on admitting to this. tighnari basked in the feathery, delicate kisses you peppered on his nose. plump, soft lips pressing gently-firm on his flaming skin. the sensation torched him. the careful fragility of your affectionate initiative was fully appreciated by the boy, as he negligently leaned into your caress. tingling and numbing to his nerves. work could wait just a little longer.

scaramouche handholding

on movie nights the two of you laid overlapping each other on the cosy couch, on chilly days as you sat together watching the first snowflakes swindle—cold fragile fingers tangled upon each other, while warmth spread from your palms to his. the pads of your digits tenderly rubbing against each other's knuckles and joints. kunikuzushi would obscure his hazy blush with his scarf, or plummet his heated face into the plush pillows. your loving touch was all he ever wanted and all he ever needed.

childe resting on your lap

sitting on the birchwood park bench, as he whimpered about being exhausted from the countable steps you took. unwillingly compromising to his coquettish behaviour, as he dragged you to the free seat on the grass. minutes passed, as he would adjust his body to rest his head in your lap. childe's eyes latched with an obliviously complacent smile. he just wanted to feel your fingers brush through his hair one more time.

thoma hugs

as you sat on his lap while he knitted, he loved being enveloped by your scent and touch. his arms riddling through yours, pressing his chin into your nuchal region. you didn't want to leave him alone during his late housekeeping hours, which explains how you ended up in this position, in front of the charring fireplace. thoma murmured in your ear sweet, calming stories, and he felt you drift off into dreamland on his shoulder. as your breathing became melodically steady, climbing and rolling down gentle hills of sleep, he wrapped you in a secure cuddle. his lips sweeping your ears.

an. hmm thinking maybe i'll write a version of this for my genshin girls as well 🤐. also, can any of you imagine kissing tighnari's ears???!?KLDSM<A. i am having a sweet tooth for fluff, apologies if it has overwhelmed anyone.

[rubyin-wonderland]

Tattoos

opla!Zoro x gn!reader

Summary: Zoro likes your tattoos, and is excited to see your newest one

WC: 2.3k

Warnings/tags: brief mention of needles, that's it

Zoro's fingers traced gently up and down your arm, along the tentacles of a jellyfish that had been inked into your skin. You lay on his chest, fast asleep, lulled into this calm by the rocking of the sea and his gentle embrace. Zoro liked touching your tattoos. He thought they were fascinating.

They reminded him of his scars, in a way. They told stories. Stories etched on your skin for the world to see. His scars told tales of fights, of danger and fury. Your tattoos told stories of your life. The people you knew, the things you'd done, the places you'd been. He never regretted a scar, and you never regretted a tattoo.

You only had tattoos to reminded you of important things. To remind you of your past. Your people. The jellyfish reminds you of your home, the friendly little cove packed with harmless jellyfish that used to tickle your legs when you swam with them, getting your first taste of adventure.

You had plenty of tattoos besides that one, and when Zoro was bored, he liked to touch one and ask for its story. You always obliged him.

You'd been asleep for a while, so when you finally woke up, you stretched involuntarily, elbow sliding up and knocking Zoro's jaw. "Shit! Sorry." You mumbled, your hand moving to hold the spot you just abused.

"You're fine." He said, moving out of your way as you woke up fully. You stretched until your joints cracked and you fell back down on top of him, comfortable.

You then moved your eyes to the floor, for your shirt, which had been discarded earlier, when you couldn't handle the heat anymore.

You found it and pulled it towards you to put it back on. Zoro's hand stopped you. "Hmm?" You asked the question without a word. He pointed at your shoulder, where two hand drawn stars sat next to each other.

You sighed, but laid back against his bare chest again, shirt across your lap, your hand naturally touching the area. "I got these from my two closest friends from back home. I asked them to draw one star each before I left, and then got them tattooed at the first island I went to."

You looked up at Zoro. "Are you satisfied?" He pressed a kiss to your lips. "Yes." "Good, because I have to get dressed." His arms wrapped around to trap you, but you managed to evade him, taking a step away from the bed, just out of reach.

"Not so fast, swordsman, we're only going to be docked at this island for one more day, and I've got things to do."

You had to leave him alone for the surprise to work. He complained, but you promised him you'd be back in time for dinner, hoping he didn't see the slip of paper sticking out of your pocket.

It had been a while since you'd been at a village that had a tattoo artist, and you had instantly made plans.

Today was the day. You walked into the shop, placing the drawing on the counter. "Can you do this?" The woman at the front took a look from the paper to your face. "Sit down."

And so you once again sat in a chair while an artist slowly inked your skin to perfection. This one was on the inside of your bicep, and although you had become relatively accustomed to the pain, you would always feel the perpetual sting of the needle.

After hours of work and a few minutes to recuperate, you were ready to go. You thanked the artist, tipped them kindly, and headed back to the ship. The sleeve of your shirt covered the bandage put over the tattoo, protecting the ink from any outside factors until it had set in. You knew Zoro was bound to see it, and his curiosity would get the better of him, as it always did when it came to your ink stained skin.

You did arrive in time for dinner, arm aching, but heart feeling pretty good about what you had done.

You ate dinner with only slight banter between Zoro and Sanji, which calmed down immediately after you rested a hand on Zoro's thigh, a warning squeeze given to make sure he knew what he was getting into.

When night fell, you were luckily not scheduled for night watch, and neither was Zoro, which meant the two of you were able to hold each other all night long.

When you removed your shirt, Zoro immediately noticed the bandage. "What happened?" He demanded, worried if you had gotten hurt. "Nothing, it's a surprise."

Zoro raised an eyebrow, knowing it was a tattoo by the very glint in your eye. "What is it?" "Wouldn't you like to know?"

He stepped forward, an arm carefully looping around your waist. "I would." He rested his chin on your shoulder, nose gently brushing your neck.

"Well you're just going to have to wait." You danced out of his reach, giving him a teasing smile. "You can ask about any of the others, I'm an open book." You said, sitting on the edge of your bed. "But I want to see what's on this page." He insisted.

"I got this one in honour of my mother, did you know that?" You pointed at a small heart on the back of your wrist. "Got it because everyone said she wore her heart on her sleeves. And I got this one-" you pointed at a small dragonfly below your ribs, "after losing a beloved travel companion."

Zoro drew closer. "I know those stories, what is this one?" He tapped the bandage curiously. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing him gently. "I guess you'll have to wait to find out."

The weeks of healing did nothing but ramp up Zoro's excitement for the reveal of your tattoo. The rest of the crew slowly learned of its existence (Sanji told them all immediately after seeing you in a tank top post-workout) and everyone was excited to see the addition to the artistry on your body.

Zoro fared the worst, trying every manner of ways to get you to spill the beans about the patch of skin hidden under that bandage.

At first, he had tried to trick you into telling him, pointing at random tattoos, then moving to the patch on your arm.

"This one." A cloud dripping rain. "Got lost in a storm and nearly died." "This one." A crudely drawn smiley face. "A young girl in one of the first places I traveled with you gave that drawing to me."

"This one." The pad on your bicep. You tutted at him gently. "I got that one recently. The story is hardly over yet, is it?" Zoro just grumbled, poking a tattoo on your side, then ticking the skin. "Ah! Zoro stop!" You tried to squirm away from him, but he pulled you back in. Eventually, your squeals were loud enough to have Sanji burst into your room, afraid something bad had happened to you. That was the end of that.

When his initial plan failed, Zoro tried to make you jealous. He ignored you when possible. You just laughed at the fact his foolish attempt to make you desperate for him backfired and had him crawling back to you after only one day.

After one whole day of sitting away from you during meals, working out on his own and moving away from you when you tried to nap with him, Zoro entered your bedroom, seeing you reading your newest book.

"Good evening, my beloved Zoro, are you going to ignore me in bed too?" You asked, crossing your arms, a finger keeping your place in the book. "Or shall you sleep in another room?"

"Shut up." He pressed his lips to yours and you expertly picked up your bookmark from your bedside, slotting it into your book, and setting the book on the nightstand before draping your arms around Zoro's neck and kissing him back twice as hard.

"When did you start to break?" You asked into his ear with a smile. "After lunch, when I napped alone." He replied, kissing your neck, his breath warming you. "Nice try, Zoro." "Fuck you." "I love you too."

Finally, he just started begging. Any time you were alone, he would just ask stubbornly.

"What is it?" "I'm not telling you." "What is it?" "Zoro, darling." You caressed his cheek, that combined with your pet name making him shiver. "I'll uncover it in front of you so you can see it first. I'll make sure no one else is in the room so you'll be the only one to see it, okay?"

He liked the sound of that, but it didn't satiate his curiosity.

When the day you removed the covering for good finally arrived, Zoro was practically shaking to see what it was.

The two of you were in your room. You sat on the bed, and Zoro stood in front of you, arms crossed nonchalantly, as if he didn't actually care. But you knew better. You knew that he was so glad to know the wait was over.

"I need you to take a deep breath." You instructed, making sure he was calm before seeing your arm.

He did. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword and an involuntary smile took over your face. You'd been just as excited as he was for this moment.

You peeled back the padding and exposed the tattoo to him. He took your arm carefully, examining the new patch of ink.

Three sheathed swords crossed over each other. Intricate patterns decorate the hilts and the sheaths, perfectly identical to the ones hanging from his hip.

You had studied his belt many times in order to get the details just right for your design.

Zoro's heart stopped for a second as he processed what you had just showed him. He stared for a while, trying to understand.

"I got this one for the love of my life." You explained gently, your heart beating anxiously in your chest. "He's a swordsman. A damn good one. He's going to be the best in the world." Zoro remained unmoving. "I love him."

Zoro just looked up at your face. There was an intensity in his eyes that showed you every emotion he was feeling. "I love you too." He reached up and pressed his lips to yours. Passionate. That was the first word to come to mind.

He damn near tackles you onto the mattress. You feel fluttery. It had been well worth the wait.

His kisses trail down your neck and across your shoulder until his lips touch the inside of your bicep, the spot that holds the swords.

"Was it worth waiting for?" You ask, looking down at him. To answer, he just returns his lips to yours. You can sense his barely contained excitement. He is actually smiling on your lips. He's giddy.

"Wait until the stupid chef sees this." He says breathlessly, his lips parting from your body just long enough for you to capture him in a kiss.

"Tell me more about that tattoo." He begs as he flips you over him, manoeuvring your bodies so his back is pressed against the bed and you lay on top of him, arms circling around his head so he can see the tattoo in the corner of his eye.

"Well I already told you, but I'm deeply in love with this swordsman," you look into the distance dreamily as you give your explanation. He continues to kiss you as you speak. "And I love him so much, it's impossible to express with words. No other person has made me feel like this. He's got this smile that makes my stomach flip, and the prettiest eyes. Don't even get me started on how he looks when he's fighting." Zoro gives you a cocky smile.

He pulls back, sitting up. You follow suit, sitting back on your knees, watching as he pulls the collar of his shirt away, revealing a rough scar digging into his right shoulder. "Can I tell you about this scar?" You laugh, but nod anyway, knowing everything about that scar, from the person who gave it to him to the final bandage that was wrapped around it.

"The love of my life was fighting by my side." You move forward, pressing yourself sideways against his chest, looping an arm around his neck, your hand hovering over his scar. "And some asshole tried to stab them." You fake a gasp. "So, idiot that I am, I shoved my body in the way." As you listen, your hand gently brushes over his scar the same way he caresses your tattoos.

"What did the love of your life think of that little stunt?" You ask, teasing.

He sighs. "They thought I was stupid for risking myself but I don't mind it one bit. It's a small price to pay for their life."

"And what did they do when they saw you had been injured?" "They saw what the asshole had done and killed him."

He turns to look at you, pulling you close. "They are the best thing that has ever happened to me. Every day they impress me and they inspire me to keep going. To get stronger, be better. Not just for myself. For them. If I were to lose them, I don't know what I would do with myself." You gently rub the scar again. "I'm not going anywhere Zoro."

"I love you so much." He mumbles. "I don't say it often, but-" "I know." You reassure, pressing one last kiss to his lips. "I know."

He holds you close for a bit and you feel him press his lips to the soft skin of your bicep again. He really likes the tattoo.

"Now, would you like to rub this in the stupid chef's face?"

Zoro grins once more. "Yes."

[lizzy019]

𝑀𝓎 𝐵𝒾𝑔 𝐵𝑒𝒶𝓇!

Switch!König x Switch!Fem!Reader

cw -> insecurities, orgasm denial, cum licking?

Word Count -> 1.8K

AHHH I LOVE HAIRY KÖNIG! No because be for real, the hairier, the better 😭😭

König was folding the clothes you washed, his big hands gently maneuvering the flimsy cloth as he began to stack them piece by piece. He’d always smile when he stumbled upon a garment of yours, folding it and placing it into a separate pile.

König was simply waiting for you to come home from work, he missed you so dearly and he wanted to surprise you. He’d come home from his job unexpectedly, so he wanted you to be ecstatic seeing him again.

Walking down the eerily silent halls of the condo building to your home, you find yourself lamenting briefly about your dearest boyfriend who was on his mission still in the most rural part of some distant country.

The soft clinking of your keys in your hand as you approached the door had König stiffen, and the rigid rattling sounds of your key unlocking the hefty door had him frozen. You were here, he was so excited to see you! Any more excited and he’d be bouncing off the walls.

The door of your condo swung open, your shoes kicked off in mild discomfort from them digging at your heels, but once the shoes came off, the pain eased instantly. Your work items were placed down, your hair tied up from the heat, and your jacket was hung up.

König watched all of it, trying not to chuckle when he saw that you hadn’t noticed him yet. You seemed too tired. He used this to his advantage and creeped up behind you, watching you swivel around when you sensed someone behind you.

Seeing your whole expression change from worry to absolute joyousness had his heart thumping violently within his hulking chest, and he finally laughed out of glee when your arms secured themselves around his midsection.

“König! I’m so happy you’re back safe!” You exclaimed with utter relief.

König blushed under his mask, keeping you in the hug for a bit longer before pulling away. He was so happy to see you, it made every nerve in his body twitch and tingle out of appreciation for his efforts on coming back home. Even if he worked himself to the bone just to come home, he was so happy he did it all.

“Mein Liebling, it’s been too long. I’ve missed you sorely,” He hummed out in a thoughtful tone.

“I folded our clothes, Liebe. You don’t have to worry about doing it now, if it helps you at all.”

To your surprise, looking at where he folded all of your laundry had you smiling ear to ear. König’s kindness was simply amazing, and you tippy-toed up to kiss his masked cheek out of gratitude and appreciation.

“How do you say it? Danke, right?” You inquired softly, giving his pecs a playful honk before taking your folded laundry into your arms to put away.

“Ja, your pronunciation is good, Schatz.” He smiled, giving your ass a firm pat before taking his own clothes to put them away.

You reacted with a pouty expression when he gave your rear a small slap, and you laughed a little, skipping away to go and put your clothes he folded so kindly for you away for later use.

König followed along, tagging along behind you as you both hurried to your shared bedroom. Your clothes were stuffed into the closet properly, and after that was done, you scurried over to the mattress that was custom-made for König’s size to fit atop it.

He followed suit, smiling as he threw his mask to the side, designating it as a problem he could deal with later as he pressed kisses all over your face, neck, and collarbone.

You loved it, the soft stubble on his face grazing your skin, tickling you more than his pretty pink lips ever could. You sighed out into the bedroom, a hand coming to his shoulder as you relished in the feeling.

His hands meticulously grabbed at your soft, supple breasts, tweaking your nipples just right so a moan elicts from your throat. König was loving this.

A hand of his came down to play with your pussy, rubbing it from the exterior as your pants covered your little gateway to his ecstasy. With gentle rubs, he found a movement that had you growing wet, a puddle forming in your underwear and soaking through to become visible even through your joggers.

This had König’s cock growing hard in his pants, he loved knowing you felt good because of him, and it was really doing wonders to his soft and mouldable ego.

“Take my pants off, please. Want you to finger me, Kö..” You murmured with an attached moan, looking into his lovely blue eyes with pure enjoyment.

At your request, König didn’t hesitate to please you, and your request was fulfilled in a matter of seconds. His hands untied your joggers’ string, fiddling with the small piece of fabric before it finally came undone. His hands slid off your pants alongside your panties, watching your pussy ooze out for him and beg for his attention.

Oh lord, he’d give it to you.

This needy body he loved so much.

His thick digits, middle and ring, plunged themselves deep into your aching core, which pulled a loud moan from you as your hips desperately tried to thrust into his hands, pining for release.

König took this as a sign to get his weeping cock free from the confines of his jeans and cotton underwear, letting his hardened rod slip free and into the cool air of the bedroom.

His fingers had you walking on heaven, but you felt a sudden emptiness that had you rejogging back down to the moment and you whined in disbelief.

König was looking at his fingers which he used on you, licking them kitten-ishly as he tasted you like an ice lolly. It was simply the most heavenly taste.

“Liebling, you taste tangy. I like it very much, so süß.” He murmured, smiling softly.

You smiled as well, his expression making your heart warm. His smile was so contagious, you wouldn't expect it from such a hardworking and courageous soldier.

With needy hands, you pawed at his shirt, wanting to take it off. His expression shifted to worry, but he loved you, you were his kleines Liebe, you wouldn’t judge him, surely!

His hands nervously slipped the fabric of his shirt off for you to see. His torso covered in a lovely poof of hair, auburn and gray hairs speckled only on his stomach while his chest was more thickly covered.

König’s expression was soft and worrisome, and he waited so pitifully for your reaction towards it.

You could only smile widely, your hands coming to twirl the soft hair in your fingers, lovingly touching it and accepting it wholly. It was so cute, you couldn’t understand why he disliked it so much.

“Cute little curls, yeah? No reason to be all shy because of them, they’re cute! You’re worrying far too much, König. Now,” You hummed out, placing a kiss to the crook of his neck and smiling.

“No more sad stuff, hm? Let’s have a proper reunion, one with nothing but love.”

König nodded, that idea sounded heavenly at best. He laid you on your back and stripped your shirt off, smiling softly as he pressed a kiss to your cleavage.

“You’re so pretty, mein Liebe. So gorgeous.” He hummed, giving his weepy cock a slow stroke to start himself.

He was nothing short of average. An 8 incher hiding in his pants, lengthy and veiny with the cutest pink, uncut tip. It stretched you wide open, hit your cervix without a doubt, and had your mouth hanging open every time he used his weapon on you.

So when he pressed his tip to your pretty folds, you gave a soft whimper before it turned into a shriek when all his length was sheathed in your walls.

Maybe it was the way he looked so desperate while beginning to let you adjust to his girth, or maybe it was the way he whispered words of praise and love to you while he thanked you for your acceptance.

He was such a sweetheart.

König gave you a few breathing seconds before thrusting his lovely lengthy rod into your sweet tight cunny. This was heavenly to him, the way your pussy walls clamped around him so tight that it was hard to move, the way he had to apply lube almost every minute or two because the constant suction of your pussy to him made the lube spurt out. König was so happy he came home to you.

“Liebling! I wanna cum, can I cum?” He begged, shoving his head into your neck and thrusting into you like a fleshlight.

You were moaning and squirming so helplessly, against your dignity, the ecstasy was simply too great. But his submission woke your trance, and you knew what was happening.

He needed you to be the harsh one now.

“No, not yet. Fuck me until I cum first, fuck me hard- oh God!” You maintained composure for a bit, only losing it when his thrusts became rabid and harsh.

Your hands clawed at his shoulders, raking his back to create red streaks. The congenial pleasure was hiking up, your release too close as you shuddered on him.

“König! Oh..” You yelped, sighing shortly after as he stopped for you to release on him.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, giving you a second or two as to not overstimulate your poor cunt before thrusting again to chase his own pleasure. The gates to heaven on Earth were so close, just a few more.

“Liebe, scheiße, I’m going to cum.. please let me cum!” He whined out, clutching your tender body.

You nodded, too tired to form proper sentences or even speak properly. You just wanted him to give you his seed, to finally complete the ceremony of his arrival home from his year at war.

So he moaned out a long cry before his hips stuttered to release his thick, creamy seed into your welcoming womb, his weight collapsing on top of you as he let that ecstasy burn every nerve in his body.

“Oh Liebling..” He whispered, his mind too tired from such an intense orgasm.

You smiled, gently rubbing his back and grabbing the blanket to cover the both of you with. Soon enough, König was knocked out, falling askeep on you with zero hesitation, and soon you fell asleep as well, basking in the warmth of the afterglow and the warmth of his big body atop yours.

[jarondont]

Gone

Um ... an angsty Eurylochus x Ctimene oneshot, bc why not

For the best experience, listen to sad Titanic instrumentals in the background

Also, here's a little piano thing I thought of for Ctimene, with Ody's guitar motif and Eury's Luck Runs Out motif

Under a small cliff in a hidden cove just beside the harbor stood a majestic olive tree, similar to the one in the palace courtyard—its roots buried sturdily in the ground; its branches wedged into the rock behind it. Its leaves rustled in the wind, blending with the gentle crash of waves along the shoreline. Sunrise stretched its rosy fingers over the horizon and spread its light over the wine-dark sea, bathing the world in a golden hue.

Two figures sat at the base of the tree, their fingers laced together like the branches above their heads. One, a man, was tall, broad, and sturdily built. The other was just the opposite—a woman, short and lean. Neither of them spoke—they simply sat in each other’s company, savoring every moment, wishing they could stay like this forever.

They couldn’t; they knew that. As they sat, the dozen ships at the harbor were being loaded with food and weapons and supplies, almost ready to set sail for the shores of Ilium. The crew was slowly trickling onto the decks, although no one was present to give them orders. The captain likely was saying goodbye to his own wife. But as soon as he returned, they’d leave. And they’d need their second-in-command.

For now, though, Ctimene just wanted to hold on to her husband for as long as she could.

“Ctimene,” the man mumbled.

“Hm?” came the reply.

“I must go.”

Ctimene hummed again, tilting her head to rest on his shoulder. “Not yet.”

A beat passed. “Kit, I really must—”

“Please, Eurylochus, just a little longer.” Her voice cracked slightly from the tears that she held back, forming a lump in her throat.

Eurylochus sighed. Ctimene glanced down at their intertwined fingers as he traced his thumb in circles over the back of her hand. It tickled a little—to anyone else, the caress would seem surprisingly gentle for hands as strong as Eurylochus’s … but Ctimene could feel the tension in his touch. She looked up to meet his eyes, but his gaze was lowered to his lap, dejected.

“How long will it take, do you think?” she asked quietly, part of her not wanting to know the answer.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Could be … could be anywhere from a year to …” He faltered. “I don’t know.”

Something stung in the corners of Ctimene’s eyes, then made its way down her throat and into her heart until it felt like it was burning. She glanced away, her grip on Eurylochus’s hand tightening slightly, desperately.

“Where will you stay in the meanwhile?” he asked, trying to change the topic. “Will you stay here, or go back to Same?”

She shrugged. “I’ll go back, I guess.” But it won’t be the same without you. She swallowed, blinking away her tears.

A pause, then Eurylochus started, “Kit—”

The bell rang out from the harbor, echoing along the cliffs—one bell, two, three.

Eurylochus’s fingers quickly untangled themselves from Ctimene’s. “The captain’s ready,” he muttered, then began to rise from his seat.

But Ctimene grabbed his wrist, her tears finally spilling. “Don’t. They can wait a few more minutes, can they not?” “No, Kit, I need to go—”

“Please,” she sobbed. “Don’t leave me.”

Sorrow washed over Eurylochus’s face. He knelt down beside her and ran his calloused fingers over her cheek, rubbing away her tears with his thumb. The action only made her cry harder.

“Kit, look at me.” She already was—taking in the slight furrow of his eyebrows; the way the sun reflected off his otherwise deep brown eyes, making them shine like pools of gold; the small dip on his right cheek that she’d often kiss, the dimple deepening as his smile widened. She took in everything, wishing she could somehow imprint this moment into her mind forever.

He held her hands in his and helped her up, his teary gaze trained intently on hers. He began, “Whatever happens in this war—”

“No.” She knew what he was about to say. “No, Eurylochus, no—”

“Whatever happens,” he continued, shaking his head, “promise me one thing.” He took a steadying breath. “Promise me you’ll stay strong. Promise me you won’t lose yourself in longing. Promise me you’ll always hold on to whatever hope is left, Ctimene, because I will, too.”

She was silent.

“Promise me, Kit.”

She exhaled a sob. “I promise.”

A rueful smile danced across his face as he raised her hands to his lips and kissed them. “Wait for me,” he whispered.

“I promise,” she repeated, not breaking his gaze as he slipped his fingers out of hers and began slowly back-stepping to the harbor.

She watched as he turned to keep walking, his sandals kicking up small clouds of sand.

“Eurylochus, wait.”

He stopped in his tracks, spinning around as Ctimene threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. She closed her eyes, teardrops escaping their corners and flooding down her cheeks. Eurylochus returned the kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist like an anchor, never wanting to let go. In that moment, it was just the two of them—no war, no ships, no leaving people behind. Just them.

But even the strongest anchors must be drawn eventually.

Ctimene pulled away just enough to meet his eyes. “You will come back, Eurylochus,” she insisted. “You will come back, and then we will have our forever.”

“I—” His golden-hued eyes glinted with tears. “I promise.”

With that, he left.

Ctimene didn’t leave the cove until the bell clanged again and the dozen ships pulled out of the harbor. The men—soldiers—raised their arms as final goodbyes, standing at the rail and waving to the crowd of people at the shore. Be safe, Ctimene wished them, and come back home. We will all be waiting.

Then she caught sight of two figures on the leading vessel—one with a billowing purple cape, still facing toward the crowd of people, waving to someone. And the other—Ctimene bit her lip to keep from crying. He was waving to her, she realized. She waved back, her eyes stinging as she shed a tear. The man nudged the shorter one with the cape next to him, drawing his eyes to where she stood on the beach. She waved to them both, watching their figures shrink smaller and smaller as the ships sailed away.

“I will wait, agapitos,” she whispered. “I promise.”

––––––

One year passed. Then two. Three.

Any word from Ithaca? She’d ask. Are they back yet?

No, they’d reply, not yet.

Another year. Another. And another.

Have they returned?

No. No one has.

Again, the seasons cycled through, marking another year. And another. And one more.

Where are they? Surely the war’s over by now.

It isn’t. Not yet.

How much longer would this war last? How much longer must those soldiers suffer? How much longer must friends, lovers, families stay apart, desperate to see each other again?

How much longer until Eurylochus came home?

All these questions Ctimene pondered as crashing waves of dread slowly eroded away her patience.

But no one ever knew the answer.

The tenth year—the war was over. Achaea had won.

They’re not back yet.

Another year. Two, three, four, five.

Every morning, she’d sit by the shore, her fingers tracing small patterns in the soft sand as she stared out across the wine-dark sea. Maybe it will be today, she hoped. Maybe I will see a black ship on the horizon, finally home from Troy.

She’d occasionally see something, a small fleck somewhere on distant waves. She’d spring up from her seat and squint against the sun, trying to see it better. Sometimes, it would be a ship, and her heart would flutter like a freed dove as she almost dared to hope it was him.

Almost.

Usually, the ship would sail on, not even making a turn for Same. And if it did dock at the shores, it was never his. No, it was always a trading ship, a fishing ship, or some other unknown vessel that would slam its anchor straight onto Ctimene’s heart.

But she still waited. She had made a promise, after all.

The next five years went by all the same. She’d watch, she’d wait, and she’d hope, but that was all she could do.

So, when she finally received some news, her heart was ready to burst out of her chest.

It started as a whisper, winding its way through the ears of people until it eventually reached Ctimene’s.

Odysseus has returned.

They made it … after all this time, they finally made it home!

Immediately, she ordered a ship made ready for her. She was going to Ithaca.

The journey only took a few hours, but it felt like an eternity. The whole time, her mind was consumed by a mixture of excitement, joy, and … fear. Though she tried to suppress it, part of her couldn’t help but wonder—what would Eurylochus be like after all this time? Would she still be able to love him? Would he still love her? Twenty years away from home … had he—had he kept his loyalty? Or had he severed his ties with Ctimene and taken another lover?

His face flashed through her mind’s eye. No. No, he would never—he had promised he’d make it back, and they’d have their forever.

He’d promised.

As soon as her ship docked in the Ithacan harbor, she hurried toward the palace, weaving her way through the streets as quickly as she could. Her heart and mind raced as she imagined everything she’d wanted to say to him for all these years. So many things.

Eurycleia was the first to greet her at the palace. “Ctimene—” she began, then paused. Her cheery grin fell suddenly. “Oh, child …”

“Where is Odysseus?” Ctimene asked, too impatient to notice the nurse’s change in mood.

“In the hall,” Eurycleia replied. “But, Ctimene—”

But she had already taken off.

She found her brother at the foot of his throne, fiddling with his bow. As soon as he looked up, they both froze.

Scars lined his face in places they hadn’t before—the bridge of his nose, his right cheek, his left eyebrow. His eyes had dark circles underneath, as if he hadn’t gotten proper sleep in days. And his shoulders were tense, as if expecting an attack at any moment.

Other than that, he looked like the same Odysseus she remembered.

“Ody,” she breathed, and threw her arms around him, collapsing in tears.

“Kit.” He dropped his bow and returned the embrace, his tears wetting her clothes. “I missed you,” he sobbed, holding her tight.

He was home. He was safe. And he was alive. Ctimene was overjoyed.

But still, something—someone—was missing.

“Brother,” she began, pulling away, “where is Eurylochus?”

Odysseus froze.

“Brother?”

His eyes grew wide and darted in every direction before finally focusing on the ground. He mumbled something under his breath, but Ctimene couldn’t hear it. “What is it, Ody?”

He took a few panicked breaths. “I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Her eyebrows pressed together. Why was he sorry?

“Odysseus—”

It hit her like a spear, piercing her heart, deeper and deeper, until the only thing she felt was blinding pain. Her breathing hitched as dread engulfed her, swallowing her whole. That … that couldn’t have happened—it couldn’t—

“Odysseus …” She struggled to keep her voice level. “Where is Eurylochus?”

No response.

Her tears were no longer of joy—they streaked her face like rivers of sorrow and horror, burning against her skin. But Odysseus was still silent.

“Where is he?” she demanded, shooting up from her seat. “Where is he?”

Odysseus wouldn’t look at her. “I was going to send you a messenger … Kit, the rest of the crew—” his voice cracked. “I had to. I’m so sorry.”

He “had to”?

“‘Had to’ what, Odysseus?” She could barely even breathe now. “What did you do?!”

But he just squeezed his eyes shut, not speaking anything more.

“SAY SOMETHING!”

“I can’t,” he gasped. “I’m sorry.”

No. No. He was lying—he had to be lying—

Finally, he looked up. “I’m sorry, Kit—”

“Don’t call me that.” She backed away, almost stumbling. “Don’t—don’t—”

She stared him right in the eyes. “You’re a murderer.”

“Ctimene, please—”

She turned around and ran.

She burst out of the palace, tearing through the streets and down to the harbor, desperately yet hopelessly searching for her husband. Maybe he was waiting here. Maybe he was boarding a ship for Same. Maybe he’d surprise her, spin her around and kiss her cheek, chuckling and telling her it was just a trick.

But he never did.

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, but more kept falling. “Eurylochus?!” she called out to the sea. “Agapitos?!”

She was only met with the crash of waves and the sound of blood rushing in her ears.

Her chest heaving, she stumbled along the shoreline, yelling out his name until her voice was hoarse. Every passing second added to the searing pain in her heart, scorching her from the inside. She screamed, she cried, and she ran, until she found herself in an area she recognized in a memory from twenty years ago.

A hidden cove, surrounded by tall cliffs, with an olive tree—now half-dead—pressed against the rock.

Promise me you’ll always hold on to whatever hope is left, Ctimene, because I will, too.

Images flashed through her mind—a sunrise, intertwined fingers, and two shimmering pools of gold. She reached out to the visions, desperate to grab them and hold on before—

Gone. It was all gone.

He was gone. Truly gone.

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the sand, letting out a strangled cry that sounded almost inhuman. “Eurylochus,” she screamed, “Eurylochus!” His name echoed along the cliffs, surrounding her, as if it was the only word the world knew how to speak. “You promised, Eurylochus, you promised! You promised you’d come back—why didn't you come back—” Her voice failed her, and she clawed her nails into the sand, wishing she could dig her way to the Underworld and bring him back.

“Come back,” she croaked, barely louder than a whisper. “Come back.”

She vaguely felt an arm wrap around her and heard a thump as someone kneeled in the sand next to her. She leaned her head on the man’s shoulder, too tired and miserable to pull away.

“I’m sorry, Kit,” he whispered, and she felt his tears fall on her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

But no amount of apologies could ever repair the gaping hole in her heart where he used to be. Nothing could.

“He’s gone, Ody,” she cried, burying her face in his clothes.

“I know,” he choked. “I’m sorry.”

And there they sat, together yet completely alone—a captain who had sacrificed everything for love, and a princess who had lost everything she loved.