#or they're breathing too loud

[dsrtrosearchived]

current  fave  category  of  muse  nonsense  is  discovering  what  minuscule,  insignificant  things  that  y'alls  muses  do  that  make  eliza  irrationally  angry.  drop  suggestions  in  the  replies  :)

[dirtytransmasc]

Hi!!!!

Do you have any hcs for how Alicole would try and solve and argument with the kids? Like, their dynamic (especially Aegon with Alicole cause he’s the oldest) is just so interesting and I’ve always wondered how an argument/disagreement would play out with them

ooh, tasty concept.

with arguments amongst the children, they try and get them to take a step back. they'll each take a kid (or two if it involves all of them) and give them a hug or something of the like, easing the tensions, before helping them come to some sort of compromise or agreement.

when it comes to non petty arguments that every child has, the source of issues amongst the kids is the following;

with Aegon they have to settle his need to compensate for feeling as though he is lacking. he tends to pick on his siblings when he's feeling down on himself. so it's a lot of affirming words and hugs while also chiding his cruel behavior. he's definitely hard on himself about being cruel as well, he doesn't like being mean it just sorta comes out of him when he's not in good spirits about himself. he shoves his siblings away over little things when he's upset which only makes him feel worse in the long run. the whole situation makes it hard to parent, as it's not right how he treats his siblings at times, but it's also awful how he feels and how it presents itself. there's typically long talks after the fact. Aegon's usually in his dad's arms, more often than not, while he mom comforts him.

with Aemond it's cooling his temper and frustration, deep breaths and grounding. they remind him that he can't let every jab get a rise out of him, that he always had them to turn to when he needs help, that he's not alone to handle his anger. they try and learn more and more each time, what triggers his anger, what helps him calm down, what to avoid, etc. sometimes he needs to just be held other times he needs a moment alone to breathe. they also try and help him learn how to self regulate and also make his siblings aware that he's getting upset prior to him lashing out (they also talk to them about it).

with Helaena, arguments tend to be because she thinks so differently from her brothers. not only is she a girl in a house of boys, but also because she's autistic (I was the autistic 'sister' in a house of boys for most of my life, it definitely brewed some unique arguments, and I'm gonna project god damn it), their ways of thinking and doing are so different sometimes that she just loses it. so with her, they let her talk, they let her ramble and decompress until she can ground herself, then they have to try and explain the boys point of views, how they see may not be the right way, nor is hers, neither are, but they have to learn to agree. then it's hugs and kisses and talking it out, before they go back to hashing it out with the boys.

Daeron's the most agreeable with the siblings, very adhd coded in my mind (so I'm going to project my brother onto him cause they're very copy pasted in my mind) so when he gets into an argument it's because he's going too fast, too passionate, and/or too much. so again, like most of their children, it's grounding first talking later. like Helaena, they have to explain that the way he is isn't bad or wrong, but that's sometimes we need to slow down, take a breath, cool off, and than continue.

with arguments they take their kids separately, normally separated into different rooms and they visit them together. depending on the exact situation they may just offer hugs and softness, or they'll play a slight game of good cop/bad cop, though they're careful with it. the goal is to solve the problem, not slap a bandaid on it. they tend to each kids needs before handling the actual issue at hand and then being them together to find a solution.

they can both be soft and stern in their own ways. Cole is typically softer on them, as he gets to their levels, takes them close while talking, but he has a stern voice and makes it clear he's willing to put a foot down if need be. while Alicent tends to be a bit more formal and stereotypically authoritative, sitting at the table with them, even if she holds their hands in hers and pulls their chairs close so she can stroke their cheeks.

normally the kids can make right up, or at least come to peaceful terms, but if it doesn't, cause kids can hold grudges like no one's business, Alicent and Cole are forced to remain wholly neutral which is much harder than one would think. most of their fights that lead to grudges are very childish so it's really just waiting for them to crack and realize it was a stupid argument. this is made easier when they don't get involved, so they just laugh amongst themselves where the kids can't see them, and try and keep face in front of them (they can smell weakness and betrayal. send help. a 4 kids household isn't easy). they definitely have moments where they wave the white flag cause one of the kids accused them of siding. the "get along" shirt is also an active and well worn member of the family (Aegon and Aemond share it often)

this video is very much Aegon and Daeron. they feud often. they're either acting like Aegon is a second dad to him, or they are actually going to war and have been sworn enemies for generations, fighting a battle to honor their forefathers (Alicent and Criston are so tired). speaking of Aegon being a second dad, he definitely oversees a lot of arguments between Daeron and his friends... does he understand little kid drama? no. is it entertaining as all hell? you fucking bet, he wants to hear all about what little James did at daycare.

when the kids are arguing with them, which with the way they run the house is pretty rare, but not impossible, they first take a step back for themselves. they will never show anger or cruelty towards their kids, so they make sure they're ok before they even think about talking to their kids.

talking will always be their goal, they never want to use threats or punishments to get what they want from their kids, and they have different ways about it. because their kids know how their household works, that things work on their time, and that just being open and honest, they really just need a day or two to themselves, if the reason for arguing isn't time sensitive, and then they can just take it out.

Aegon is sulky, he just closes himself in his room or flees to a friend's house (which they let happen so long as he leaves a note, leaves his location on his phone, and checks in every few hours) if its really bad. he'll drag himself back to the kitchen table in 48 hours tops, wanting nothing more than for his mom and dad to love him again (they never stopped).

Aemond is just frustrated past reason, so he'll go out and fence with his dummy or just something physical, then he's more willing to listen to reason.

Helaena normally had a boundary or nerve pushed, which was normally accidental, either cause she was already frustrated with something or something changed and it just put both parties in bad positions. space is all she needs.

Daeron is a bit of all the above. he's sensitive, though hard to cross, its often more about other things, something his parent did just broke the camels back, so a long run brings everything back to reason.

Alicent and Criston care so much about their kids, every argument they have with their kids, typically one-sided as they refuse to truly yell, breaks their heart whether or not they did anything or not. they never plan to punish their kids for arguing, they were kids once and they know that its good that they feel safe enough to stand up and fight for what they believe to be true, that they feel safe to shout and disagree with them. they would rather that over anything else, cause they know their kids trust them.

while they aren't permissive with their kids, their are rules and hard limits, they don't count arguing as something to be punished, and their kids don't tend to strand into punishable territories. so resolving a fight is a long talk at the kitchen table, no man's land so to speak, where all parties air their grievances. the problem is discussed, apologies are said on all sides, and sometimes it doesn't always end in a hug, but it does end in feelings being soothed and bridges mended. no one walks away with hard feelings.

they're not perfect, but they make it work, and because they've put so much time and effort into making their home safe and sane, the whole family in therapy, making active efforts to be nothing like their first "home" true arguments are far and few between, and when they happen they're equipped to handle it. Alicent and Cole are such good parents, their kids love and trust them, theirs so much space to talk and negotiate and handle issues early on that there typically isn't any reason to fight. I think that's what makes them such a good family, cause its so hard for me to picture them actually fighting outside of petty things.

[tojisun]

i wish i can be to someone what about you by the 1975 makes me feel

[theearnestonion]

(Just found this in my drafts)

What's holding me together is that some day, I will have a place of my own, with a sunny window in the kitchen, and a garden, and a cat.

One day I will have a partner or a friend or a roommate there with me, someone I love, to dance with in the kitchen while we wait for the pasta to boil, and laugh until we can't breathe, and speak freely about anything, or about nothing. We will call each other whatever we wish to be called, and do our best to see each other as we wish to be seen.

[biteapple]

bbaby girls dropped off at the vet's .. vacuuming in process...

[angelltheninth]

I read this thing about how lovely it is to jack off a shy boy and the whole time I was thinking about Yuuta Okkotsu, so was wondering if you could write reader giving him a reach around? Please and thank you. n3n I think calling him a good boy and hearing his whimpers would be amazing

Oh man, you're totally right Anon, that would be so cute.

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu x Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, handjob, praise kink, whimpering, cum eating, shy!Yuta

A/N: Is there such a thing as a shyness kink? If there is I think I have that, I think shy people are super cute.

Shy!Yuta yelps when he feels your hand on his cock. He didn't think you'd notice his hard-on if he was quiet. But you did and you decided to do something about it, right now, which he didn't expect given his surprised expression.

Shy!Yuta tries to keep his voice down while you fish his cock out and start stroking it. There's no real reason for that, it's just the two of you alone, he could be as loud as he wants. He always was more on the quiet side though. You really hope to change that.

Shy!Yuta is too flustered to tell you to go faster. He would take any stroking pace you're willing to give him, the man isn't that picky really. Still you can tell on his face that he wants something, he should really ask you for things more often.

Shy!Yuta wraps his hand over yours and shows you the pace he likes best. Still he doesn't say a word about it, keeping it to whispers and moans as you stroke him faster, the broader, longer strokes that make his eyes roll back every time your warm palm rolls over his leaky tip.

Shy!Yuta can't even muster the courage to tell you how good he's feeling right now. All of his praise are half-words and half-moans. He can't even keep his eyes open fully, they're hazy and watery, half open watching as your hand goes up and down his cock.

Shy!Yuta rolls his hips into your hand when it stops moving. He's begging, wordlessly, for you to keep going. His cum is already dripping down your hand, he just needs a little more, a few more strokes until he's finished.

Shy!Yuta finally uses his words when he feels your breath on his sensitive cockhead. He's finally come to a point where he can't take it anymore, he has to ask you to keep going. Or else... or else he's gonna lose his god damn mind.

Shy!Yuta lets his eyes roll to the back of his head as you start stroking him again. His grip is strong on you, his words once again not understandable but at least he's letting them out, being vocal and telling what and how he needs it.

Shy!Yuta chokes on air when you praise him while licking all of his cum off his cock. This is his reward for being honest with his desires. He should really do it more often, come out of his shell a bit more, it's gonna get him even more rewards of he does.

Shy!Yuta is blushing so hard right now and even more when you kiss the tip of his cock right before swallowing all of the cum that you licked off it. He can't look you in the eye anymore. So he doesn't see the kiss coming when you place it on his lips.

[lovebugism]

ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)

ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.

Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.

He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.

You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.

The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).

“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”

Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.

“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”

“I wouldn’t say it was evil.”

“No?”

“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”

“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.

You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”

“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.

You shoot him a look. “You know…” you hum vaguely, expectantly.

“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”

“You’re not dumb, Eds.”

“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”

You concede with a small huff. “That… That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.

He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”

“I’ll die,” you deadpan.

“You’re so dramatic.”

His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck. 

That’s where he lingers. 

Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there. 

He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.

His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.

“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.

Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.

“Well, if we’re sharing secrets…” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”

You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed. 

You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”

He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.

Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”

“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner…” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”

“So, you want me to be more… dominant?”

He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”

The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”

“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”

“But not all the time, though, right?”

“No. Not all the time. Just… sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”

“Sure…”

Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”

You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just… I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.

Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe… not stopping…”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.

“Is that… Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.

“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s… That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”

He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now. 

Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.

The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.

“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.

Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”

His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”

Again, you nod.

“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them…”

“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.

Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”

“So… on you?”

“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times — including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just… use me. If you want,” he repeats.

“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.

He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just… wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”

You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.

Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”

“Yeah…” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”

His smile widens. “Exactly.”

“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”

Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy. 

“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.

You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually… But I won’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.

“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”

“Oh, fuck…”

You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.

“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.

Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah… Yeah. Some—Something like that.”

[ghosts-cyphera]

pornstar!ghost defo gets millions of views because of the way he makes his favourite costar cum on his cock🥴 i don't make the rules🤷🏻‍♀️

"oh, bloody hell."

ghost blew out a breath, his thumb moving to run across his lips. for the past hour his phone had been buzzing so loud in the metallic locker of the gym dressing-room that the front-desk assistant had eventually been forced to come ask him to turn it off.

yet not for a moment had he prepared for—for this.

whatever the fuck it was.

his social media was flooded. twitter, instagram, even his goddamn fucking tiktok account that his coworkers had forced him to create during a drunken night out a couple of weeks ago.

and it was all because of you.

well, because of the most recent video the two of you had shot together.

apparently it was—ghost's brows furrowed, as he read through the comments flooding his posts—relationship goals. apparently it was all that a girl could ever want. apparently the two of you were now... being shipped.

his fingers working fast, he looked up your name from his contacts and brought his phone to his ear. not two rings later you answered the call, a touch of amusement to your voice.

"you've seen it, haven't you?"

he could hear the laughter in your voice—the warmth of it making him feel more grounded as he shook his head. "fuckin' A, love. not sure I should be shitting my pants or feel fuckin' flattered. they're saying that we'll be—shipped."

"that we'll—" your laugh was bright. "oh, they're shipping us now, are they? no it's—they want us to be—together."

together?

"they've already seen me railing the shit out of you in front of—," ghost's words died down on his lips.

oh.

oh.

"well I'll be fuckin' damned." the widest of grins tugged at the corners of his lips as he nodded his head, slow. "all because of the way I fuck you, eh?"

"something about the way you look at me when you do." he could hear the smile on your lips as you spoke. "price is reworking next week's schedules to see if he can fit more of us in."

"weren't we already scheduled for—," ghost bit down the rest of his sentence.

"thursday, yeah. but apparently his golden couple takes priority. he's—oh, hold up."

the line fell quiet for a moment, and ghost allowed himself to wet his lips with the deepest chuckle. if he hadn't know himself any better, he would've thought that the sudden heat playing on his cheeks was brought there by you, and not by the workout he had just finished.

it was definitely from the workout.

"ghost?"

your warm call only brightened his smile, and he nodded his head. "yeah, darlin'?"

"I'll see you next week on—," you laughed, "four days."

four fuckin' days.

"alright," he managed out a chuckle. "yeah, alright. I'll—err—I'll see you then, yeah? tell price I said—" thank you. "tell him I said hi."

"I will," you hummed. "ghost?"

"yeah, love?"

"I'm looking forward to next week."

fuckin' hell.

he bit down his smile, for nothing. for there was nothing he could do to control the sudden flutter at the pit of his stomach: to hide the warmth of his voice as he nodded his head.

"me too, darlin'. me too.”

a/n: this is not even smut anymore. this is just—it's just fluff. I'm falling for them so goddamn hard, lmao. / pornstar!ghost masterlist / my inbox is so, so open for all your thoughts about him. 💌

[becca-e-barnes]

Bucky pinning you down so you can’t squirm and he’s just sitting inside you while he tortures your clit feeling you clench around him. He makes you cum over and over until he finally cums.

Overstimulation + super soldier stamina = …

- 🍯

Dear God, I know I just don't have it in me to behave during cock-warming. When it comes down to it, I genuinely have no patience at all 😵‍💫

"You..." Bucky begins, pressing you down onto the bed before gripping your ankles and forcing you to flip over onto your front. "Have a problem with control."

With your face turned away from him, you can't help but smile to yourself. No one has ever said it out loud but you know he's right.

Being in control is where you're most comfortable. No hands are safer than your own. Except maybe his. You know he won't fuck this up.

"And you..." He continues, gathering your wrists behind your back, holding them tightly with one hand. "Need to learn how it feels to have control taken from you. Do you understand?"

As soon as you begin to nod your head, you feel him start to tape around your wrists, holding them together behind your back. Once he's content they're secure, he sits on the edge of the bed, facing the mirror before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Legs spread over the top of mine." He orders and you do as you're told, not because you have to but because you want to.

You notice the way your cunt is already glistening in the mirror and you're almost embarrassed because he hasn't even touched you yet.

"Fuck, you're made for this." He groans, lining his cock up to your slick entrance and you wonder if he's holding his breath too while he slides into you, as deep as your bodies will allow.

You're obsessed with the sight in front of you; your own naked body, with your legs spread so far apart you can see how your cunt is stuffed full of him.

Being shorter though, your feet can't touch the ground like this. There's no way you'll get enough leverage to fuck yourself on him but as soon as you start to tell him that, he silences you with two thick fingers between your lips.

"I'm not letting you fuck me." His free hand roams over your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples and then settling between your spread thighs.

"I'm going to play with you. I'm going to see how much you can take. I'm going to work out exactly how you like your clit stroked and I'm going to do that until your legs are shaking and your body won't let you cum any more. Maybe then I'll fuck you but sweetheart, that will be hours from now." His breath is hot against the side of your face, his fingers slipping from your mouth to your waist while he starts to flick gently against your clit.

"I'm going to start slowly. I'm going to do everything I can to drag this out as long as possible. I can feel every clench and flutter of this pretty little cunt and I'm going to enjoy it until you're dripping over my balls." At this rate, it won't be long until you're dripping onto the carpet, never mind over him. You dreamed he'd want to take control like this but you never imagined the way your body would respond.

"And then, when you've cum more times than you can handle, I'm going to tell you that I love you while I fuck you like I don't."

Update: Part 2

[lvlyghost]

Remnants

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You got hurt and Simon finds out.

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

TW: bruises, slight angst. reader missing simon. also fluff think that's it. lmk if i missed any. also poorly edited and not proofread. mind the english!🤭✨🤍

A/N: this is so self indulgent. embarrassing how much time it took to get out because i've had this idea for two weeks now. anyway enjoy!💛

Masterlist✨

Laying in bed until it was late was part of your daily routine when Simon was off on deployment. Too tired to even get up when he wasn't around to wake you at 7:00 a.m.

He was a morning person unlike you.

You remember the days he would drag you against him by the waist mumbling something about being too late to be in bed, to which you had groggily bit back and slapped his arm in a playful manner. Then he would be gone for months, leaving nothing but an empty bed and the absence of his deep voice to fill your ears. Feeling that made your eyes well with tears and your heart ache. What if I don't see him again? What if that was the last time I ever felt his touch?

Shaking your head you pull yourself out of the comfort of your shared bed, taking a quick bath before preparing yourself a nice breakfast.

Winter is starting to settle in and your favorite thing to wear is his black hoodie. The one that swallows you entirely. It smells like him, it's almost like being embraced by him.

"Come on don't cry now." rubbing your eyes with the hem of the sleeves. Traitorous, salty droplets spilling down. "Jesus." Taking a deep breath you calm yourself and the ache gradually stops.

The kitchen is somewhat cold despite the heater turned on. You watch as the coffee brews —the one he dislikes— you smile again although small. Barely a quirk of your lips at the thought of him looking intently at you as you take a sip and offer him one.

'Bloody incorrigible.' He had muttered.

But you had seen him smiling that day as well, as different as you both were from one another, the love you two held couldn't be denied, nor broken.

That's why when the front door creaks open your eyes widen, legs moving faster than your brain can register. Socked feet dragging across the wooden floor nearly slipping. Simon stands stall, the door closing behind him as he lowers the black duffel bag on the floor.

"Are you really back?" Your lower lip trembles, the emotion too heavy to hold it back.

"Come here, love." You lunge forward, collapsing against his body. Simon's quick to catch you with strong arms holding you. Bodies pressed together. He can finally let himself breathe. The smell of your home, the smell of that awful coffee you love, the aroma of your shampoo and perfume that drives him absolutely crazy. He pulls his mask off and his mouth is soon against your soft lips. Oh how he missed you. He missed this, his girl softly caressing his face standing on your tiptoes. Simon grumbled, when he feels the air shift and you pull back, his brown eyes glimmer with devotion.

"Don't worry there's tea for you. Plenty. I made sure of that for when you returned." He inhales deeply, kissing you once again on the forehead. Taking his hand you lead him to the kitchen to serve both the breakfast you've been working on. "How are the boys?" You ask taking two mugs out of the top cabinet.

"A bit more scarred than before but they're good." He comes behind you lingering close —too close— to your back. "Price wants a reunion. Told him I'd let you decide."

"You already know I'll say yes." He hums watching you pour some water in the kettle and waiting for it to boil. "Black or chamomile?"

"Black." You try to move around as much as you can with him caging you from behind. Giggling when he once again kisses you on the temple. "Alright, let me see you again..."

Simon grabs you by the forearm it's not hard, it's gentle but firm. Firm enough to hurt your neglected limb. You shriek, a loud 'no' leaves your lips as you stumble back and away from him, soothing the place where he had touched you. It hurt so much but you quickly regret your reaction knowing it'd spark something within him.

Simon's eyes go wide, then his brows furrow so hard you can see the small line that could leave a permanent mark on his forehead.

"What was that?" He growled. The distance you put between you and him is cut off by his long strides.

"It's nothing, I- I swear." You trail off, searching for an explanation. But he's smart and he won't let this pass.

Few things could make him lose his temper, you lying about your wellbeing was one of the top on the list.

"Show me." He demands and the way his eyes pierce through every part of you leaves no room for discussion.

Rolling up your sleeves you hold out your forearms. Simon's jaw clenches so hard you're certain he's cracked some of his teeth. Eyes set on your damaged limb; red and purple bruises on your skin. They're so fucking big and he has to remember how to breathe and control his emotions. "How?" His eyes shot back to yours, awaiting.

"I promise it's not what you're thinking Simon."

"Don't give me that. I asked you a question." he takes one of them careful not to press too hard as he brushes his thumb over one of them. Fucking hell. It's swollen.

"Just work Simon. I had to carry big boxes and you know I'm not that strong, that's it. So stop thinking the worst, yeah?"

Sighing he lets go of your arm, the anger slowly ebbs and he feels fucking tired. He thought the worst. No one could blame him, it was in his DNA.

"Next time let me know beforehand, bloody hell love."

You give him a quick hug.

"I still might have to have a talk with your cunt boss."

You snort.

"No you won't." You declare, motioning for him to follow back. "Tea's ready."

Oh, but he would definitely pay him a visit.

[hey-hermy]

.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 17: Alone

Summary: Your pack has left on their first deployment since you joined them, leaving you alone on base.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,866

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, nightmares, PTSD, trauma, just super depressing overall.

A/N: I'm so ready for these next two chapters, you have no idea. Things are happening, things are gonna happen, it's just...so good. You'll see 🤭. They're pretty heavy chapters emotionally, but don't worry fluff will be coming very soon. I won't leave you hanging too much for too long.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“We'll only be gone for a few days. A week at most. Dr. Keller will take you to and from meals and anywhere else you may need to go. If you need anything, contact Kate. We'll call when we can.” 

He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead. You’re forced to stand there and watch his back as he boards the plane, the ramp closing and sealing you off from them. They all looked guilty, as if it was their fault they had to leave, as if they were suffering as much as you at the idea of parting, even just for a short period of time.

You don't sleep that night. You lay in your bed and stare at the ceiling until far too late when you decide to abandon it for John's room instead. You slip under the covers, disrupting the immaculately made bed as you surround yourself with his scent. You’re on edge, the barracks far too quiet, far too empty. Every little sound has you tensing, holding your breath. The door is locked, yet it’s not the same without your pack there to protect you. If you scream, no one will hear you now. 

You manage to fall asleep at some point in the early hours, your mind plagued with horrible nightmares of monsters devouring and tearing you apart. 

You wake with the sun, dragging your feet back to your room. You miss the quiet sounds of your boys getting ready in the morning after their workouts, taking extra care not to be too loud. Now you wish for it. You want them to be loud and wake you, because then they’d be here with you. The hallway feels too empty, the barracks too large. You’ve spent plenty of time alone in the barracks, but it’s never felt like this. They’re not just across base from you, they’re probably in an entirely different country. 

You stare at their closed doors, all four of them feeling like voids knowing the rooms behind them are empty. Even Ghost’s closed door feels particularly empty. 

You shuffle into your room, locking the door behind you as you get ready for the day. You’re not quite sure what you’re going to do, now that you don’t have them around. You suppose you could just go about your day as you usually do while they’re at training, except you won’t have their inevitable return to fetch you for meals to look forward to. 

It’ll be days before you see them again. 

If you see them again. 

You force that thought back into the recesses of your mind. You won’t entertain it, not now while you’re still trying to process the fact that they’re gone. Even if it is a possibility. 

You’re sitting on your bed when the knock comes, clutching your phone in your hand. You don’t want to be without it, in case they call. You don’t want to miss a chance to talk to them, especially if it’s your only chance. Or a call from Kate telling you something happened.

You open the door, Dr. Keller standing in the hallway with a small smile on her face. It doesn’t feel strange having her in this space, even with the rest of your pack gone. She’s been here before, and you trust her. 

“How are you doing?” She asks as you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. 

“I don’t know.” You say, letting out a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” 

“I don’t blame you. Feels strange, being alone here, huh?” 

You nod. “Yeah. It’s too quiet. Too empty.” 

“I bet.” You follow her out of the barracks and into the cool morning air. “Let’s get some food in you and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. I know this is a big adjustment, and it happened rather suddenly.” 

“Was gonna happen eventually, though.” You say. “For the three months I was with the CIA, they drilled it into my head that their job would always take priority over everything else. Still sucks.” 

“It does. Separation is hard for everyone in a pack, even if it’s short term. Add on the stress of their jobs and I can only imagine what it’s like.” 

“I’m trying not to think about that.” You say. 

“I think that’s the best thing you can do right now.” She squeezes your arm. “Come on, we’ll get the food to go and we’ll eat in my office. I usually do that anyway. It’s much quieter than the mess.” 

You get your breakfast, following Dr. Keller to the medical center. You are silently glad you won’t have to eat in the mess without the protection of your pack. The stares from the others might have been your tipping point, and without Ghost to scare them off, you’re sure it would have only been worse.  

“Make yourself at home.” Dr. Keller says, letting you into her office. “You can sit at the desk to eat, if that’s more comfortable. I don’t mind.” 

You take her up on the offer, sitting in the chair across from hers at the desk. She moves some papers out of the way before taking a seat herself. It feels almost strange, being so informal in her office, but then again, she’s always been more laid back with the formality between the two of you. 

“If there’s one thing I miss, it’s good diner food.” Dr. Keller says as the two of you begin to eat. 

You stare down at your porridge for a moment, having gotten used to the change in food over the last almost nine weeks. “I miss a lot of things.” 

“Would you ever want to go back and visit America?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You shrug. “I don’t know.” 

“I’m sure they’d take you, if you asked.” She smiles as you stare up at her in surprise. “I don’t think there’s much they wouldn’t do, if you asked. They care about you a lot.” 

“I’m starting to realize that.” You say. 

“Good. It’s reassuring to see such strong, natural bonds forming between all of you, despite how the situation came about. You’ve made a lot of good progress already, even with the few bumps in the road.” 

It falls silent between the two of you as you eat, finishing your breakfast. Your stomach churns with anxiety, hand closing around the phone in your pocket as if it might ring at any moment. It makes you sick, the thought of what they might be doing, what might be happening right at this very moment. 

“Can I ask you something?” You break the silence, needing to take your mind off your swirling thoughts. 

“Of course.” She says, looking up from the papers she’d been looking through. 

“Since I’m your only patient, what do you do all day?” You ask. 

She smiles. “I do a lot of things. After our sessions I log the notes I take and read over them, I make sure your medical chart is up to date, I read through a lot of studies and journals on new research and methods that may be helpful, I talk to colleagues all over the world, including here on base, and I sometimes go around the medical center and sit in on meetings and classes to keep my skills sharp.” 

“Do you ever feel like you’re wasting your skills here?” 

She shakes her head. “No. Before I took this job, I was caring for sometimes over one hundred omegas at various institutes. It was a high stress environment with long hours. While it was fulfilling work, there’s a high turnover rate for Omega Specialists in that field for a reason. Being a private doctor is a bit of a relief after that, and truthfully, the pay is considerably better.” She folds her arms on her desk, leaning forward. “It’s no less fulfilling than working at institutes. It’s nice to have the time to put together the best care plan for you and your needs.” 

“It is nice having an Omega Specialist to myself.” You say. “There were several at the institute, a lot of students doing their residency. They weren’t always...good at their jobs. A lot of them were just going through the motions, doing what the more experienced specialists told them to do.” 

“Unfortunately that’s rather common with residents.” She says. “Most of them don’t make it past residency. Like a lot of specialities in medicine, it takes a certain kind of personality to succeed as an Omega Specialist. Not everyone has it in them. I wish more schools and programs would take notice earlier before they get to their residencies and steer them down a different path.” She smiles at you. “Now my question for you. Would you rather hang out in here today, or would you prefer to go back to the barracks? You won’t hurt my feelings either way, nor will you be a bother.” 

You think about it for a moment. While your knee jerk answer is to go back to the barracks, what are you going to do? Sit alone in the silence and worry until it makes you sick? Sit in the rec room and watch TV alone and worry about your boys until the next meal time? As much as you want to be alone, you also don’t want to be alone. 

“I’d...like to stay here, if that’s okay?” You finally say, making your decision. 

“More than okay.” She smiles. “Make yourself at home, do whatever you’d like. Watch YouTube videos, dig into some books, take a nap. You won’t bother me in the slightest. You’re always welcome to hang out in here.” 

You look over the titles on the bookshelf, picking one that looks interesting before settling on the couch. You spend the day with Dr. Keller, relaxing in her office and going to meals with her. It doesn’t calm the anxious thoughts by much, but at least the loneliness is abated a bit. 

You return to the barracks after dinner, debating whether you should sit in the rec room or just go to your room. The rec room feels too open, too exposed without the safety of your pack, so instead you choose to retreat into your room, locking the door behind you. 

You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as tears gather in your eyes. Another night without them, another night without the safety and comfort of their presence around you. Another night knowing they’re not on the other side of the wall, a knock or a yell away. 

You fight the panic starting to bubble as you get ready for bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of something happening, someone breaking in, someone taking advantage of their absence to get to you. You know it’s an irrational fear. Most of the alphas on base ignore your existence, aside from the couple incidents you’ve had with them. The most they do is stare, though that’s to be expected as an omega. 

What if they’re holding back something more sinister, though? What if the only thing stopping them is your pack? This would be their opportune moment. 

You’re shaking, eyes wide in fear as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Sure, you’ve learned a few ways to defend yourself, but could you really utilize them? If the moment called for it, could you defend yourself enough to get away? Where would you go? Dr. Keller won’t be in her office all night. Could you run and seek protection from another medical professional that was still working? Could you find a different high ranking official on base and hope they’d help you? Could you go for the guards at the gate and hope they help you? 

Or would it be safer to run for the woods? Try to lose whichever alpha decided to attack you and hope you don’t get lost in the trees? You would just have to survive the night, and Dr. Keller would notice you missing come morning. What would she do, though? Call Kate? It’s not like the guys could just come home and help you. Would Kate even tell them something happened and put them at risk of getting distracted? What if something happened to them because of you? 

You turn the shower on as cold as it will go, stepping under the spray in your pajamas. You sink to the floor of the shower, letting the cold water snap you out of your panic and prevent you from distressing. No one’s coming through the door, no one’s going to try and hurt you. 

Your teeth are chattering by the time you reach up to turn the water off. Violent shivers rock your body, your hands and feet numb. You take deep breaths, feeling more awake and aware than you have since yesterday. 

The panic has dropped to almost nothing, your shaking now due to the fact you’re freezing. You strip out of your wet clothes, leaving them in the tub as you wrap a towel around yourself. You’re still shivering violently as you change into warmer pajamas, opting for one of John’s shirts and sweatpants. 

You slip under the covers of your bed, piling every blanket you own on top of the covers before tucking yourself against your giant bear. You won’t sleep, but at least you’re not panicking anymore. 

The days begin to blend together without the routine of your pack to keep you steady. Dr. Keller comes to get you at the same time as you expect for your breakfast, and then you spend all day with her, sitting in her office, keeping yourself occupied while you wait for an inevitable phone call. It will either be your pack calling to check on you, or it will be Kate with bad news. 

You’re not sure which is worse. The anticipation of a call from your pack letting you know they’re all alright, or the dread that it will be Kate telling you something happened to them. 

You’re still not sleeping well, the anxiety and the worry you might miss their call meshing with the nightmares that were already plaguing you before they left. You’re exhausted and strung out, the worry beginning to eat you alive. You’re constantly on edge, every little sound close to sending you spiraling. 

Your thoughts have slowly shifted from missing your pack to ruminating about the fact they might not be coming back. It’s a risk you’re well aware of. The kinds of things they do put them at risk, every deployment carries the risk of one, or all of them, dying. One thing goes wrong, one small freak accident and your entire pack could be taken from you. 

You’re not sure you’d survive that. 

Most omegas don’t. 

“Still nothing?” Dr. Keller asks as you sit there, staring at your phone for what must have been an hour at least. 

You shake your head. “Nothing.” 

“Sometimes no news is good news.” She says. “I know you’d prefer to have any news at all, though.” 

“I can’t stop thinking...what if something bad has happened?” You say, fingers trembling from gripping your phone so hard. 

“Kate promised she’d call if something happened, right?”

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“She’s a woman of her word, I can say that much. I’m sure they’re fine. They’re very capable soldiers. They wouldn’t be in Spec Ops if they weren’t, much less on a highly specialized team.” Dr. Keller stands up, moving to the closet. “It’s still hard, not knowing where they are or what they’re doing. I remember when my brother told our parents he was enlisting. Our mother cried for a week straight.” She pulls a pillow and a blanket out of the closet. “I still don’t think she’s completely forgiven him. It’s hard for omegas when someone leaves the pack, even temporarily, especially if you can’t have constant reassurance that they’re alright.” 

Your brows pinch in a frown at her words as she kneels on the floor beside the couch. “Your mom was an omega?” 

She nods. “And dad was a beta. Wound up with two beta children, though I don’t think mom complained much about that. We grew up in a big pack with lots of people around us. I think mom would have been worse off if it had just been her and dad.” She sets the pillow on the couch, gently prying the phone from your fingers. “Come on, lay down.” She directs you. 

You do as she says, laying down on the couch, resting your head on the pillow. She covers you with the blanket, tucking it up around your neck. “Is that why you’re so good at this job?” 

She smiles, setting your phone on the arm of the couch above your head. “Maybe. I think it gave me more empathy for omegas and the struggles you face every day.” She gently squeezes your arm. “They’ll be alright. They’re probably just as worried about you, as you are them. But, you need to get some rest. You don’t have to sleep, just laying with your eyes closed will help.” 

You tilt your head, glancing up at your phone. “What if I fall asleep and it rings?” 

“Then I’ll make sure you get a chance to answer it.” She says, squeezing your arm again. “I promise. Get some rest.” 

You let out a breath, not wanting to risk falling asleep, but you close your eyes anyway. It doesn’t stop the thoughts from coming on, the nightmarish images the anxiety feeds your brain flashing before your eyes. What if they’re lying dead somewhere right now? What if something’s happened to Kate and she can’t tell you? Would you ever find out? Would you ever know? 

Despite the anxiety prickling through your body, the warmth of the blanket begins to lull you into a false sense of security. Perhaps it’s the sheer exhaustion from your lack of sleep over the last couple weeks, paired with the exhaustion from your constant worrying, but you find yourself slipping between sleep and consciousness as you lay there on Dr. Keller’s couch. You don’t mean to, but you can’t help it as you begin to drift off to sleep. 

Screaming. It’s loud, piercing your ears. Something’s holding you, hands clutching at your form desperately. It hurts, nails biting into your skin, fingers gripping too hard, yet you don’t care. 

“You won’t take her from me! I won’t let you!”

You’re crying, sobs wracking your body as you cling just as tightly to the form holding you. 

Hands grab at you, squeezing and pulling, trying to free you from the constricting grip around you, but it won’t let go. You cling to it just as desperately, afraid of what will happen if you let go. 

You know what will happen if you let go. 

“She’s no daughter of mine.” 

The words bite into you, slicing through your skin straight into your very soul, the prickling pain of your own flesh and blood rejecting you making your skin crawl. How could he just let you go like that? How could he turn against you so easily, over something you have no control over? 

Pain erupts across your entire body. Something snaps, your ears ringing from more screams. You’re being pulled away from the safety of the hold around you, your body going cold as the warmth around you disappears. Hands close around you, fingers ripping into you as you're torn from your mother’s hold and into the unknown. 

“Easy, easy.” 

You’re gasping, breathing wheezing as tears choke you. 

“Deep breaths. In and out, nice and slow.” 

Your breath hitches, catching painfully in your chest. 

“You’re alright, you’re safe.” 

You force your eyes open, blinded by tears as something is tucked into your arms. You squeeze the bear against your chest, hiccuping as you fight for control over your emotions. You’re on the couch in Dr. Keller’s office still. You’re not at what was once your home, not stuck in the nightmare you’ve lived over and over. 

Slowly breathing becomes easier, your sobs quieting to sniffles. The tears still spill down your cheeks, dampening the fur of the bear in your arms. 

“You’re alright,” Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back gently. 

You slowly push yourself up to sit, pulling your knees against your chest. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop. Dr. Keller shifts her position, sitting next to you on the couch. 

“How long have you been having nightmares?” She asks quietly, watching you as you try to calm yourself. 

“Since my heat.” You say, voice rough from crying. You wrap your arms around the bear again, holding onto it tightly. 

“You haven’t said anything about it.” She says gently, shifting slightly so she’s facing you. 

“I didn’t want to.” You say quietly, shame burning through you. She’s not reprimanding you, yet you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. “I shouldn’t be having them, I mean...it’s not even that bad compared to...compared to what the others have gone through. The kinds of nightmares they have.” 

“It might seem that way to you, but trauma is still trauma. It might not be the worst thing someone else has gone through, but it is the worst thing you’ve been through.” 

Her words give you pause. You’ve never quite thought of it that way. The kinds of things your pack does, the things they’ve seen, the things they’ve done, are far worse than anything you’ve experienced. The things you’ve experienced may pale in comparison, but they’re your experiences. No one else’s. 

“If you want to talk about them, that’s what I’m here for.” Dr. Keller says, leaving things open for you to decide what to do. 

You don’t have to tell her. She won’t force you to do it. She won’t force you to do anything, to say anything you don’t want to. It might be nice, though, to let someone know, someone neutral, someone who won’t tell anyone else. It might be nice to finally put into words the things that are eating you, have been eating you. 

You lay back down, curling up into a tight ball on the couch. You hug the bear close to your chest, letting it ground you. “My nightmares, they’re always about the day I left for the institute.” You start, taking a shaky breath. “I haven’t had them in years.” 

“You were sent early after your presentation, right?” She asks. 

“The day after.” You answer. 

“Being sent to an institute can be traumatic when done within the normal time after presentation. I can’t even imagine what being sent that soon was like.” She lets out a breath. “Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, the brain and body hold onto it, because we don’t feel safe enough to process it in the moment. The brain can hold onto it for years, until we finally feel safe enough. Then the brain can start to try and heal from that trauma without us even realizing it.” 

“You think that’s what’s happening?” You ask. 

“It’s possible. Going through your heat successfully, being claimed, building close bonds with your pack, all could aid in helping you finally feel safe enough to process that trauma. Things usually feel worse as the brain works through the trauma, which could be why you’re having nightmares about that event suddenly.” 

“Is there anything that will make them stop?” You ask. 

“There’s some things we can do together that might help the process. I’m more than happy to help you with it, if that’s what you’d like to do. If you decide to, I think it will be a good idea to set up appointments at least twice a week, at least at first.” 

“What are we gonna tell John?” 

She gives you a look. “Well, I’d advise telling him the truth. I think you should tell your pack about your nightmares. They can at least offer you some comfort and understanding. Of course, that’s entirely up to you and what you want to do.” 

You let out a sigh, getting comfortable on the couch again. Dr. Keller adjusts the blanket over you, squeezing your arm gently. 

“Think about it.” She says. “We can talk about it more after they get back and things have settled back to normal again.” 

You’re brushing your teeth when the call comes. You quickly spit into the sink, not even bothering to rinse your mouth before you’re answering, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You hadn’t even checked the screen to see who was calling. You’re just anxious to hear from someone after days of silence. 

“Hello?” 

There’s a beat of silence before the voice on the other side responds, the audio distant and slightly garbled, but you hardly notice. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

You fight back a sob, your inhale shaky as relief floods through you. “Alpha.” The title slips through your lips before you can even catch it, your body nearly vibrating at hearing John’s voice after so many days. 

“I’m here. We’re all here.” He says, distant voices sounding in the background. 

A smile tugs at your lips, happy tears blurring your eyes as you collapse on your bed. “Missed you.” 

“I know, we’ve missed you too.” 

You move to your bed, flopping down on the mattress in relief. “You alright? Is everyone alright?” 

“We’re alright. Few bumps and bruises, but nothing we haven’t had before. How are you holding up?” 

The urge to spill the truth to him is strong. You’ve been depressed and worried and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that you haven’t panicked about something. You’ve been having horrible nightmares and haven’t been sleeping. There’s an ache in your chest that won’t go away, and you’re afraid it might kill you if you don’t see them soon. 

“I’m alright. Sad cause I miss you a lot.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” There’s a sound on the other end, something you can’t make out and the line buzzes for a second. For a moment you’re worried you were disconnected, but John’s voice cuts through the noise again. “We’re finishing up here soon, and we’ll be home in a couple of days.” 

You can’t help but sigh in relief at his words. They’re alright. They’re all safe, and they’re going to be home soon. You’re going to get to see them soon, touch them again, smell them again. “Hurry back.” You say, your voice shaky with emotion. 

“We’ll try, sweet girl. We have to get going, but we’ll be back before you know it.” 

Saying goodbye doesn't hurt as much as you expect it to. Maybe it’s the relief from hearing their voices, from knowing they’re really alright paired with the knowledge that they’ll be home soon. Two days doesn’t seem so far now that you know that’s all that stands between you and seeing your pack again. 

You roll over in your bed, pressing your face into the pillows. Nothing smells like them anymore. Not their shirts that they scented before they left, not your pillows or stuffed animals. The couch in the rec room, and even John’s bed have started to smell more like you. 

The first thing you’re going to do when they return is get a big whiff of each of them, even if you have to tackle Ghost to do it. You want to refresh their scents all over everything, roll around in them until they’re the only thing you can smell. 

For the first time in days, you manage to sleep that night. It’s not much, but it’s a deep, nightmare-free sleep, aided by the relief from the constant anxiety that has plagued you. 

You update Dr. Keller the next day on the news of your pack’s imminent return. You elect to spend the afternoon in the barracks instead of her office, the building suddenly not seeming quite so empty now that you know they’re coming home soon. You clean up John’s room, making his bed again after you’d made a mess of it trying to sleep. They’re all going to be tired when they return, and you want to help them in any way that you can. You pick up your room as well, even though you know you likely won’t be spending much time in it for a while. You’re going to latch yourself onto them and not let go until the ache in your chest has disappeared. 

You bristle when the knock sounds at your door. You glance up from where you had been sorting the clothes you’d stolen from the guys from your own so you can get them to scent them again. You’re not expecting a knock yet. It’s too early to be Dr. Keller coming to get you for dinner, and she would have announced herself like she has been, if it was her. 

That means someone else is in the barracks. Someone you don’t know. 

Your mind races as you try to think of who it could be. You don’t know many others on base, and certainly no one that would enter the barracks just like that, unless it’s an emergency. Is there an emergency? You’re almost certain if there was an emergency on base, then there would be alarms going off or something. There’d be some sign that something was happening, but it’s quiet outside, or at least, there’s no noises you’re not expecting. 

The knock comes again, louder and sharper. Whoever is on the other side is obviously not going to just go away. You debate calling Dr. Keller, telling her someone is outside your door, getting her to help you on this, but instead you grab your phone, holding it in your hand as you move towards the door. 

You unlock it, holding your hand on the handle in case the person on the other side tries to force their way in. They don’t, so you open it slowly, just enough that you can see out. There’s a soldier outside your door. A woman. You don’t recognize her, but then again you don’t see many women on the base, and you don’t pay much attention to the other soldiers. 

Maybe you need to start paying more attention. 

She’s a beta, you can tell just by looking at her. She’s wearing scent blockers, keeping her scent from projecting into the barracks to erase the fact she was here. 

She says your name, staring at you with hard set eyes. “General Shepherd is waiting for you.” 

It takes you a moment to process what it is she’s saying. You’ve never met any of the higher ups on base. The person with the most authority you’ve met is John, but you know he’s only a Captain. There’s others above him, but you weren’t any concern of theirs, so you have never bothered to meet them. Even in your time with the CIA, the person with the most authority that you met seemed to be Kate. You hadn’t even been given names of anyone higher up than her. 

Apparently something’s changed. 

Something in the back of your mind begins to tingle. Something isn’t right about this. You should have called Dr. Keller, or even Kate. You shouldn’t have opened the door so recklessly. 

“But, I’m not supposed to-” You begin, unsure of what to do now. 

“It’s a direct order from your superior.” The woman cuts you off, her tone sharp and impatient.

You’re not a soldier. The only superior you have is John and he’s certainly not behind this. 

You wouldn’t dare say that out loud. Not right now. 

“Okay, okay.” You say, stepping back slightly from the door. “Let me just get some shoes on.” 

You close the door, staring down at your phone. You debate calling Dr. Keller or even just sending a text, but you don’t put it past the woman outside to barge in if you don’t hurry. You can feel the panic rising, the thought of someone invading your space so carelessly making the back of your neck tingle. So instead you slip on a pair of shoes, shoes you know you can run in, before you open the door again. 

She’s still standing in the hallway, stiffly at attention. Her gaze pierces into you, making your skin crawl. You close your door behind you, slipping your phone into your pocket. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel, walking down the hallway towards the door. You follow behind her, having to walk quickly to keep up with her. You’re reminded of your early days on the base when you would be escorted around by Ghost. 

You’d take those times back over this right now. 

Your palms start to sweat as you leave the barracks, dread starting to fill your stomach as you realize how much of a mistake you’ve made, leaving with this stranger. She could be taking you anywhere to see anyone. You’re not even sure General Shepherd is a real person. 

The thought of being led blindly into a room of alphas like a lamb being led into a den of hungry wolves nearly makes you panic, your steps faltering just slightly as you debate running. You could make it to the medical center quickly from here if you sprint the entire way. Would she chase you if you took off running? Would you get in trouble? Would the guys get in trouble if you did? 

You don’t want anyone to get in trouble. 

Especially not with this being the first time you’ve been on your own. They’ve put a lot of trust in both you and Dr. Keller in their absence. If you get into trouble while they’re gone, that might change things. You could ruin everything you’ve built by misbehaving. 

The woman leads you to a building you haven’t been in before, leading you down a clinical-looking hallway to a door. She pauses in front of it, turning to face you. You stare at her, still on edge. What if this is a test? What if they’re testing you to see if you’d just blindly leave with a stranger while they’re not there to protect you. 

You’ve made a big mistake. 

The woman holds out her hand, and you stare down at it dumbly. “Your phone.” 

You continue to stare at her hand for a moment, trying to swallow the nervous panic rising within you. You don’t have much of a choice now but to obey. Your hands are shaking as you pass your phone over, the woman pocketing it before she opens the door. 

It’s bright inside, the LED bulbs burning your eyes. You’re uncomfortable and uneasy, a dangerous mix for an omega, but the person inside doesn’t seem to care. He stands from his seat, towering over you. He screams alpha before his scent even hits you. You’re thrown back into the memories of your father, the way he carried himself, the way he stood. Back straight like a rod, hands clasped behind his back, face pressed into a stern line. 

He’s in uniform, decorated with more patches and pins than you could put a name to. Army, you think, judging by the color of his jacket. It looks like General Shepherd is a real person after all. 

You try not to flinch as the door clicks closed behind you, sealing you in this room with an unknown alpha. Though it’s only one, you still feel like the helpless lamb standing before a hungry wolf. 

No one will hear you scream. No one will care. 

“My name is General Shepherd.” He says, his voice gruff and laced with authority. “I am the acting commander of Task Force 141.” 

You’re not sure if you should say anything, or even bother introducing yourself. He probably already knows you well, even though you’ve never met him before in your life. 

“I was one of the driving forces behind the omega initiative, and I decided the 141 should be one of the first to participate. I also signed the approval for you to be assigned as their omega, did you know that?” 

You shake your head. “N-No sir, the CIA didn’t give me any names.” 

“Good.” His lips twitch in what you assume was supposed to be a smile. It doesn’t ease your nerves any. “They weren’t supposed to. I’m sure you’ve learned that confidentiality is everything in this line of work.” 

“Yes, sir.” You try not to flinch under his gaze, piercing and probing. The back of your neck is tingling, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to run, to escape, to get somewhere safe. 

“I came here today to ensure your pack was doing as they were instructed. I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far. You’re getting along well with them?” 

You nod again. “Yes, sir. There were some...bumps along the way, but we all get along fine now.” 

“Good.” He closes the file on the table, taking a step closer to you. You fight the urge to take a step back, not wanting him to invade your space while you’re so vulnerable. “The success of this program is imperative to the future of the military and its functionality. You’re doing important work here with the Task Force.” His hand lifts, slowly pulling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can see your mating mark. 

You fight the urge to lift your hands and wrap them around the back of your neck, the instinctual urge to protect yourself nearly winning out as he stares at your mark. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the fear-driven adrenaline making your fingers tremble. Half a second and he could scruff you, half a second and he could overpower you. 

No one would know. No one would care.  

“I’m satisfied with what I’m seeing so far. Of course, the true measure of success will be their efficiency in their current task.” He steps back away from you, moving back to the table. “How have you been adjusting to them being gone?” 

“It’s been difficult,” You say, breathing for a second to collect yourself. “But I know separation can be a rough adjustment at first.” 

His lips twitch again in a twisted smile. “You’re a smart girl. That’s why I chose you for this position. You’re doing good work. Your efforts will change the course of military history, hopefully for the better.” 

Something about his words don’t sit right with you. 

You’re trembling as you exit the room, led out by the woman that had brought you to the building. Your breaths are heavy as you try to keep a grip on the anxiety threatening to overtake you. Your hand is trembling uncontrollably as she give you your phone back, your knuckles going white as you clutch it to your chest. You’re sweating, the cool air chilling your skin as you step outside. 

You barely remember the walk back to the barracks, numbly following the woman as she leads you back to your safe space. It doesn't feel so safe anymore, now that she’s breached it. She entered without permission, breaking that trust that’s so sacred to packs. 

She doesn't even seem bothered by it. 

She pauses outside the door to the barracks, staring down at you. You fight the urge to race inside and lock yourself in the safety of your room before she can change her mind and enter again, or take you somewhere worse. You stand your ground, meeting her gaze. 

“Thank you for your cooperation.” She says, as monotone as she had been the first time she spoke to you. 

You finally realize what it was that made her seem so off to you as you think over her words. 

She’s American. 

“Thank you for escorting me.” You say politely, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Have a safe trip home.” 

You quickly enter the barracks, speed walking down the hall towards your room. You want to burrow under your covers and hide until the guys return and you can feel safe again. You pause in front of your door, staring down at the handle. The back of your neck is prickling again, anxiety burning hot in your veins. Your hands have begun shaking again, clinging to the phone still pressed against your chest. You fight the urge to hyperventilate as you stare at your door, half of your brain telling you to run and the other half stuck, staring in shock and disbelief. 

Your door is ajar. Open just a crack, just enough to be noticeable by looking at it. 

You always close your door. You always ensure it’s shut every time you leave the barracks, even when the guys are home. You remember shutting it before you followed the woman out of the barracks. You remember distinctly listening to the click of the handle as you pulled it shut behind you in the quiet of the barracks. 

You stare at the gap, the line of the frame visible. It’s open. Your door is open. 

Someone was inside your room. 

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[obscure-imagines]

wet dreams - Zoro

🍃staring. Zoro Roronoa x afab!Reader

⚔️ preview. The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, wet dreams, hand job, blow job, dirty talk, praise, exhibitionism (sex outside in the Crowsnest), cum play/swallowing, fingering, mutual masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, big dick zoro, fingering, overstim, mutual orgasm, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel.

🔫 rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I wc. 3.7k

⚔️ aus. One Piece Live Action, pwp, acquaintances to lovers, etc…

🍀 mlist + an. I showed Sanji and Mihawk some love so I figured I might as well adore my big three and make it a full set with Zoro.

Zoro is exhausted. His body feels heavy as he lumbers around the ship, his footfalls a little too loud on the wooden deck. His eyes are practically shutting on their own, but he resists the need to nap.

He's been having problems lately... when he sleeps.

While he's able to keep himself mostly in check around you during his waking hours, his mind - and body - have been betraying him in dreamland.

He's woken up five nights this week with the soft sounds of your moans etched into his memory and his pants ruined with the sticky truth about his feelings for you.

Naps had once been a time of rest, but Zoro has been anything but restful since Luffy convinced you to join the crew two weeks ago.

Zoro hates feeling like he's not in control. He hates the way you seem so real in his mind's eye, only for him to wake up and watch you acting completely indifferently toward him- as if he didn't just watch you go down on his cock in explicit detail- as if he didn't just try to fuck you so hard you couldn't even walk-

Being around you is something like torture. His tongue gets tied, his heart races, and he's unable to hold a conversation with you about anything unrelated to piracy... and even then, he stumbles over his words and gets frustrated with himself.

You're just too beautiful.

The swordsman feels like a teenager again. His body has never reacted like this to anyone, not even close. It's been years since he had wet dreams, and now they're coming in, hot, heavy, and nearly nightly.

He does his best to be the last to go to bed, out of fear that someone will walk in while he's sleeping and hear his problem, hell, he wouldn't be shocked if they could even see it.

It's not even midday and Zoro feels like death. It doesn't help that it's hot out. The wind feels practically nonexistent. Everything is stale, sweaty, and full of tension. Even Sanji, who usually dresses in formalwear, has stripped himself of his button-up, opting for an undershirt instead.

Then there's you. Your shorts don't leave much to the imagination, and Zoro has to tear his gaze off of you every time you get within his line of sight. His cock is practically throbbing in his pants anytime you're nearby- anytime your soft scent lingers in the air when you walk past.

"You look like shit."

Zoro sighs at Sanji's words, refusing to look at the chef who's come to lean on the rail next to him, staring out at the sea.

"I mean it. And I'm not trying to be a dick, but seriously moss head, you look like you need some rest," Sanji presses on. "When was the last time you had one of your famous Roronoa naps?"

"I wasn't aware they were famous," Zoro sighs, this conversation is making him even more tired.

"We all know you get a little scratchy without your beauty sleep," Sanji smirks. "Go on, get some rest. It's a shit day, and it will be even more shit if you're in a bad mood. I'll wake you up for dinner."

Usually, Zoro wouldn't do anything Sanji suggests, he wouldn't even entertain it- but the idea of a nap is having a visceral effect on him. He's reminded of the exhaustion that's overtaken him, and the harsh sun is only making things worse.

Zoro lets out a deep breath. "I guess I could use a little shut-eye."

You let out a loud whimper as Zoro drags his tongue across your neck, holding you close on the deck of the ship. Above, the stars are twinkling, but to the swordsman, all that matters is you. He can hardly see anything else, his mind completely blank except for the feeling of your hand stroking his cock.

"I need more," you tell him, applying just the right amount of pressure.

He's tried dissuading you from sucking his cock, but you're absolutely insatiable for him. Stroking isn't enough, and the promise of filling you up all nice and snug doesn't satisfy you either- no, you want him in your mouth, and you're very verbal about it.

Who is Zoro to deny you?

With a sigh, he agrees, and you sink to your knees immediately.

God, you look beautiful like this.

Your thumb strokes the head of his cock, rubbing through precum as you bring your mouth closer.

You're always a bit of a tease, licking at him gently, pumping his shaft. Zoro can't help but release a small groan, eyes fixed on you, waiting.

When you finally take him into your mouth, Zoro moans, his head lolling back as he enjoys the feeling.

"That's it, angel," he tells you, reaching down to grab at your head, helping you find a rhythm. "Just like that."

You take him so deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat much too easily. The feeling of you choking around him has Zoro's abdomen clenching, and a familiar sensation is growing in his balls-

It's as if you can read his mind, your hand snaking up to massage his most sensitive area while you continue practically gagging yourself on his cock.

The sound is absolutely obscene, and Zoro's never heard anything so pretty.

"If you keep sucking like that, I'm going to cum," he warns you, wanting to hold out to finish in your perfect, needy little cunt-

The way you suck on him even harder makes Zoro think you want him to cum. You want him to release down your throat, want to swallow him up like the good girl you are.

Again, who is Zoro to deny you?

"Fuck, angel," he groans, orgasm rising even faster. "You're always so good for me."

You whimper loudly around his cock, stroking your tongue along the vein that runs the underside of his length while squeezing his balls, and that's all it takes for him to cum.

He lets out a grunt as he shoots his load down your awaiting throat, his brows knitted together in concentration and something close to overstimulation. He whispers your name, over and over like a mantra while you suck him dry, eager for every single drop he can give- you're his greedy little angel, and he loves you with every fiber of his being.

You pull off of him when he's done, staring up at him with eyes that reflect the stars above. Then, you stick out your tongue, proving to him that you'd swallowed all he had to give.

Zoro can't help but reach for you, lifting you back onto your feet so he can grab your face and press his lips against yours eagerly.

He treasures the moments you're in his arms, and there's something so satisfying about the salty taste on your tongue-

"Dinner!"

Zoro sits up so fast he nearly falls out of his hammock. His heart is thundering in his chest, and when his eyes quickly dart to the door, he sees that Sanji hadn't bothered to enter, only called out a word of warning.

Swallowing thickly, Zoro looks down at his pants. He can feel his cum, hot and sticky against his skin, his half-chubbed length angrily confined by pants.

Zoro's not sure who's more upset about being woken up from his dream, himself, or his cock.

Luffy has already gone through half the food by the time Zoro saunters into the dining area. The swordsman's eyes are downcast while he takes a seat next to the captain, and you're kind of glad for that- you want to watch him, but you doubt you'd be able to make eye contact with him right now.

Your skin tingles with the forbidden knowledge that you now have. Your mind keeps replaying the scene you'd walked in on not half an hour ago; Zoro, asleep, his brows knitted together, your name on his lips.

You hadn't stayed long upon finding him in that state, your skin too hot with the realization of what you'd just witnessed, and now, that fevered sensation returns.

You've always had a bit of a crush on Zoro, but you'd never in your wildest dreams imagined that it could be returned. Out of everyone on the ship, Zoro interacts with you the least. He practically avoids you, and you've just spent two weeks thinking he doesn't even like you-

No, this changes everything.

The man with green hair lifts his gaze, and your eyes meet momentarily, only for you to look away, skin flaring again. Your heart is practically beating out of your ribcage, and you can feel your panties sticking uncomfortably to your core.

You'll have to do something about this. You're not sure what- but... you definitely can't go much longer with this kind of unresolved tension. One dinner with a dripping pussy is enough.

You decide you'll have to confront Zoro, and something tells you that you'll thank God for doing so.

Once everyone is asleep, you slowly tiptoe out of the sleeping quarters. Zoro has been staying up late, keeping watch in the Crowsnest, and you feel like that's a perfect place to talk with him. There's no way he can escape... unless he jumps into the ocean and risks his life- but you don't think it will come to that... or at least, you hope it doesn't.

Carefully climbing the ladder, you think of all the things you can say to him. You're not sure where to even begin, and as you make it to the top, poking your head through the manhole to stare at Zoro's broad shoulders, all the words you'd planned slip your mind.

He hasn't noticed you yet, and it takes closing the ladder cover for him to finally hear you, whipping around with his hand reaching for one of his blades.

Zoro freezes. You both do.

Then his hand drops to his side. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought..." you bite at your lip, "I thought you might want some company."

He gives you a quick once over, then turns to look out at the sea again. "I'm good."

"Why do you act like you hate me so much?" you sigh, ignoring his dismissal and moving to join him.

"I don't act like I hate you."

"You hardly talk to me."

"I'm not a big talker."

You let out another exasperated sigh. There's some truth in what he's just said. "Then I'll talk."

"Go ahead."

Staring out at the sea, you're once again at a loss for what to say. After a few moments of silence, you decide to just... put it all on the table. "I walked in while you were napping earlier."

Zoro goes rigid next to you.

"What were you dreaming about?"

He's quiet, then he turns to look at you. "Sword fighting."

"I didn't think you'd actually lie to me," you frown.

"Who says I'm lying?"

"I just- I don't think sword fighting would lead to you moaning my name over and over."

Zoro looks out at the sea again. "You must think I'm some kind of pervert."

"Trust me, I don't," you assure him. "I'm kind of curious about what we were doing in your dream."

He sneaks a glance at you, and there's a hint of a smile that curls onto his pretty lips. "Yeah?"

You nod. "Maybe... maybe I've been having 'sword fighting' dreams too. We could... compare notes, or something."

Zoro lets out a laugh, shaking his head. The chuckle dies down into a groan. "Fuck." He grips the railing tighter, taking a deep breath. "You really wanna know what we were doing in my dream?"

"Yes, please."

The swordsman turns to face you, crossing his arms over his chest. "You were down on your knees, sucking the fucking soul out of my cock."

If your panties hadn't been ruined at dinner, they're definitely ruined now. "I was?"

"Uh huh. You were begging for it. Begging for every last drop."

Your mouth practically waters at the idea. "And did you give it to me?"

"Of course I did," he says softly, scanning your face. "How could I not?"

"Should we..." Your skin heats at the words about to come out of your mouth, "Can we make that dream real?"

Zoro sucks in a shaky breath. "I think I have a better idea."

"A better idea than me sucking your cock?" You're shocked.

"You're always so good to me in my dreams, maybe I want to be good to you."

Your pussy throbs at the insinuation of what he's saying. Most men would jump at the chance to have your mouth around them, but it looks like tonight, the swordsman wants to be the one pleasuring you-

He's just like the Zoro from your wet dreams, and you have a suspicion that when it gets down to it, he'll be even better.

You can't help yourself any longer, you practically launch your body at him, throwing your arms around his strong shoulders while his hands catch you. Your lips meet as if it's the most natural thing in the world, a soft groan escaping him when you swipe your tongue across his mouth, already eager for entrance.

The kiss deepens, and his hands grip you tighter, pulling you flush to his chest. It feels absolutely insane to be actually doing this in your waking hours- nothing your mind could conjure up compares to the real Zoro-

You can feel his cock already pressing against your hip and it makes you whine loudly, shoving your hand between your bodies to cup him through his pants. He's as big as you imagined he would be, and your pussy flutters with interest.

"Zoro-" you whimper, already needing more.

You've been waiting too long for this, for him-

He groans. "Say that again."

One of his hands joins yours between your bodies, but his slips under the waistband of your shorts, deft fingers rubbing you through your panties.

"Fuck, angel, you're already soaked-"

"Zoro!" you moan, louder this time.

"Tell me you want my fingers."

"God, I need them," you gasp when he leans in, pressing kisses and tracing his tongue along your throat. "I need you inside of me- any of you, I just- I need you!"

"Good girl," he says smoothly, pushing your panties to the side.

His fingers make contact with your dripping cunt, and he teases your pussy lips, just dipping inside enough to coat his skin before he circles your clit.

You cry out, squeezing his cock harder-

"Enough of that," Zoro practically slaps your hand away from him. "Tonight is about you. Let it be about you."

"Fuck, you're too nice to me-"

"Trust me, you deserve it." His fingers sink into your pussy and you moan loudly, leaning forward to begin peppering his own throat in kisses. You thread your fingers through his hair, keeping him close as he begins pumping his digits in and out of your wet core.

You can already hear yourself- the sick squelching of your pussy as he works you open. His palm rubs against your clit, creating a delightful pressure that has your legs shaking and your toes curling.

"You sound so pretty."

Who knew he'd be such a sweet talker.

In the exhibitionistic privacy of the Crowsnest, with the crew sleeping soundly below, Zoro is showing you his true colors, and you couldn't be happier.

No one has touched you like this in too long- but then again, has anyone ever actually touched you like this?

You can't believe how close you already are to cumming. Your skin tingles and you moan louder against his neck, moving your mouth up to suckle on his earlobe.

Zoro groans, and the sound goes straight to your aching core.

"Close already?"

All you can manage is a nod, your eyes closing as you focus on the pleasure of his fingers pumping into your wet hole. "Please-"

"You can cum for me," he tells you. "I wanna hear it."

You can hardly even stand on your own. If it weren't for his strong form, steady under your grip, you're sure you'd be falling. His free palm is on the small of your back, keeping you snug to his front while his fingers work you closer and closer-

"Zoro," you whimper again, feeling tears in your eyes from how tight the coil in your stomach has grown.

"Be a good girl and let go for me. Come on, I know you can do it."

You let out a strangled half sob as your high slams into you. Your entire body tingles with electric energy as your core clamps onto his fingers, which continue inside of you, working you through your orgasm. You shake against him, digging your nails into his shoulders while you whimper and moan, lips pressed to his throat.

"That's it," he praises you, a steady guide through one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

You nearly black out, only for his fingers to slow inside of you, drawing you back into your body. Zoro removes his hand from your pants, and you listen to him suck his digits clean, letting out a small groan at your taste.

"Can I lay you down?" he asks next, tone gentle.

You nod, unable to speak. Zoro softly helps you onto the wooden floor of the small Crowsnest, staring at you with dark eyes that seem to sparkle in the moonlight.

He slowly undresses you, watching as you lift your hips to help him remove your shorts. Your shirt and bra are next, and he's careful to set them nearby before removing his own clothing.

"You still want to do this?" he asks.

"There's nothing I want more."

Once he's naked, Zoro gets between your thighs, holding himself over you while you wrap your legs around his hips. You grab at his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.

His hard cock is too enticing for you not to touch, and soon, you're gripping it while your tongues battle. His moans are music to your ears, and you swipe your thumb over the head of his length to smear his skin with precum.

"You know-" he swallows thickly. "After today, after watching you cum on my fingers, I might not last that long."

"That's okay, I won't last long either." Your pussy is already aching for him again, and from the way his cock twitches in your hand, you know he's as into this as you are. "Just fuck me Zoro, please."

He kisses you deeply, allowing you to guide him to your wet hole.

He's big, but you're soaked, and slipping into you is much too easy. He sinks all the way in, his hips flush to yours when he bottoms out. You moan into each other's mouths, and you grab his face, wanting to keep his lips on yours as he begins to thrust into you.

"Fuck, Zoro, it's so good-" you whimper, pussy clenching tightly around him to earn another sound of appreciation.

"Angel, you're fucking perfect," he agrees, pace already quickening.

The sound of skin on skin fills the night air. You open your eyes, looking up at the moon and stars. It feels natural to be with him like this, under the watchful eye of the heavens-

Your nails dig into his shoulders when his hand adjusts your thigh on his hip. He drives deeper into your wet hole, and each thrust has your head spinning.

You can feel him everywhere, and it's the first time you've ever really felt full, complete.

"Zoro," you whisper, gaining his attention as you draw his lips back to your own.

You get lost in him. His cock is filling you perfectly, and his lips feel like they were made to be on your own.

That familiar tightening in your lower abdomen builds much too fast, and each thrust has Zoro grunting and moaning even louder-

"Fuck, angel, I'm close-"

"Me too," you assure him, pressing your forehead to his own and staring into his eyes. "You'll cum with me, right?"

He can only nod as you slip your hand between your bodies, fingers rubbing your sensitive clit-

Your core tightens even more around his thick length and Zoro lets out a deep moan-

"Shit," he mutters, "where should I cum?"

"Inside," you insist. "Cum inside, I'm on birth control, please, I want it, I need it-"

Zoro's hand balls into a fist on the wooden plank by your head, and he groans. "Can't wait-"

"Me neither," you whisper, eyes closing as the feeling ravages your body, "Cumming-"

Zoro buries his face against your throat as you both reach your highs. You can feel him painting your inner walls, making you even more full than you already are with his cock- it's the most delightful feeling.

Your toes curl as he fucks you through it all, his pace even harder than before, if not a bit erratic. The sounds he's making will be something you never forget, and you cling to him like a lifeline, tracing his muscular shoulders and gasping-

It's as if your orgasm lasts ages, and when Zoro's motions finally begin to slow, it's hard to even catch your breath.

He begins to press kisses along your throat again, working his way to your ear, and then your mouth.

You can't help but grin into each soft press of his lips against your own.

"You look happy," he muses.

"That's because I am. Are you happy?"

"Very."

Your smile widens. "So we're done not talking and pretending to be indifferent to each other, right?"

"Completely done."

"Good, because I don't think I could go back to that."

"Me neither," he admits.

"I like you a lot."

Zoro presses another soft kiss to your lips, his pretty eyes twinkling with emotion in a way you've never seen from the swordsman. "I like you too."

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you liked this, check out my fics for Sanji and Mihawk :)

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[hairmetal666]

Steve parks at Eddie's, a plastic wrapped bouquet of roses so purple they're almost black carefully buckled into the passenger seat, and a nervous twist to his stomach. He didn't plan to do this. It's just, he was agonizing about his crush to Robin and she goaded him until it seemed like a great fucking idea to ask Eddie out on Valentine's Day, of all days.

The flowers were an accident. He saw them in the front window of the little flower shop in town, and it felt like fate, like they were practically made for Eddie Munson.

With a deep breath and a gritted teeth, he swings out of the car, flowers in hand. He's doing this, he's got this, he can ask Eddie out.

Music rocks from the trailer, drowning out Steve's knock. They didn't exactly have plans tonight, only they hangout every night since Vecna, so he figured...well, Eddie never said they weren't getting together.

He's a little miffed when his knock isn't answered. Even when the music is up, the walls of the trailer vibrating, Eddie always comes to the door. But the minutes tick by with no response until the annoyance turns to anxiety.

He stretches over, up on tiptoe, craning through the window to see if he can spot Eddie, probably distracted by planning for dnd or working on a song.

The kitchen is deserted, pots steaming on the stove. The two-seater table is covered in one of those paper tablecloths they have at Melvald's for a buck, patterned with bright red hearts. The table is set, two plates, two beers, a candle burning in the center of it all.

God, he's stupid. So stupid, with his nearly black flowers and his silly crush. Of course Eddie already had someone to spend Valentine's Day with.

He stumbles down the stairs, stomach fighting up his throat. The loud music makes so much sense now. He has to leave. He can't stand the thought of Eddie finding him here, letting him down easy; can stand even less seeing him with the date he has over.

Steve almost makes it back to the car before he hears the screen door slam, Eddie's voice calling his name. For a second, he considers ignoring him; for a second, he thinks about jumping in the car and driving off and forgetting this ever happened. But he could never do that to Eddie, not even when the consequence is his own heart.

"Oh, uh. Hey, man," Steve says. He runs his fingers through his hair, swallows. "Didn't mean to interrupt, thought we had plans but I guess they weren't set in stone." He's rambling and he knows it, but can't stop. "I didn't realize you--I'll get out of your hair."

Eddie's eyes flicker from Steve to the flowers clutched in his fist, the wrapping now sweaty and rumpled. "Are those for me?" Eddie asks.

Steve's mouth open and closes a few times, thrown off the track of his monologue and trying to think of a plausible lie. "I--they're--it's--"

There's nothing for it. He has to tell the truth and eat the humiliation. "I saw them today and--They're perfect for you. So, I wanted--" he shakes his head, shoves the bouquet into Eddie's arms. "Happy Valentine's Day. I'll let you get back to your date."

Eddie's face scrunches and it would be cute except for all the way Steve's heart is breaking. "Aren't you my date?"

"What?"

"Steve. We hang out every night. I thought--"

"But. For me--" He splutters. "The table?"

"Harrington, it's Valentine's Day! You bought me flowers!"

"Yeah, cause I was going to ask you out!"

This is what breaks Eddie, and he bursts out into helpless giggles.

"Don't laugh at me, Munson." But he's starting to laugh too.

"I'm sorry! I just--you," and Eddie isn't laughing anymore, he's looking at Steve with clear, shining eyes. "You brought me flowers."

Steve sobers too, hands over the bouquet. "I brought you flowers. You made me dinner."

"Yeah." He glances up at Steve from under his eyelashes. "I made you dinner."

"Sorry for--" He gestures broadly around himself.

Eddie shakes his head, soft smile on his lips. "You're something else, Stevie." The words are so fond they make Steve's heart flip. "Now, come inside before the food gets cold."

Steve walks to do the door, pausing before he climbs the stairs.

"What is it?" Eddie's eyebrows lift.

"Nothing. Just--" Steve licks his lips, notices the way Eddie tracks the movement. "I'm really falling for you, is all."

"No duh," Eddie says with a broad, smitten grin. "You bought me flowers."

[elixrr]

Within the frame, you.

— They're still stuck on you, even after your death.

ft. various genshin men + star rail men

cw. angst, no comfort. your implied death.

He stares at a portrait of you across the room. Beneath their dull expression, a world of chaos, despair, and rage explodes and drives him to madness.

– Xiao, Alhaitham, Diluc, Wanderer, Dr. Ratio, Blade

Your death has already passed. You have come, and you have gone; he knows that this is simply the way of life, but he can't let it go. You meant the world to him— you mean the world to him. He dares not to say a word, nor is he able to bring himself closer to the portrait. You stare uncomfortably back at him, but your eyes are so full of life. You're dead, your body hones no being, but in there, in that photo, your eyes sparkle with life and prosperity. In that photo, you captured a special kind of love and light, and he can never feel it— never touch it again. He will never feel your light; he will never feel your love.

Yet, he still feels your hands. Your hands in the photo stick out to him, and he is reminded of your ghostly touch lingering across his hands. He can not tear his eyes away from your portrait, your hands, your smile, your bright eyes— it fills his own with tears. It's irrational, it's incomprehensible. The tears rapidly stream from his eyes, and he begins to sob. Alas, he breaks free from your gaze, but he is not free of you.

You were his, he is yours.

It is irrational, yes, but he will never let go. Not of you.

He can't stop crying over your death. He knows that, in order to heal, he needs to throw your photos out, but he can't bring himself to.

– Lyney, Kaveh, Venti, Freminet, Yanqing

Why you? Why did it have to be you? He can't handle your death, hell, he can't even bear to look at you! You've stolen his heart, and now he can't ever have it back. He's managed to turn all of the photos he has of you around, letting himself breathe once again. There was one instance where he had turned every portrait of you except for one in the hallway, and he broke down for a good ten minutes when he saw your illuminating glow.

Thoughts of you began to resurface, and he cursed at himself for letting this happen to you. He thought of your face, your eyes, the way your clothes swayed and swept with the winds. You were everything, and he let you slip past his fingers—

He stood up. He couldn't take this anymore. He stumbled from his seat and to the door, yet he stumbled too much and fell on a table. Crap! Photos of you wobbled and fell off of the table, and he managed to catch one picture. Involuntarily, he turns the frame over and looks at you.

And yet, at the sight, he drops the photo, and he realizes what happened: three portraits of you have fallen and shattered, and pieces of you and glass have scattered across the floor.

Everything, every part of you fell, slipping past his fingers, and you laid there. In each photo, you were full of life. But now? The message screams loud to him, like the glass shards, the realization stabs his heart a million times over, and he falls to his knees.

You're dead.

He starts sobbing; he can no longer hide the hurt. You're dead, the love and light of his life has shattered and dulled, you've disappeared. He pleads, begs, and cries for you to come back to life—he can't take another day of waking up knowing that you're gone.

He lays on the ground and sobs, scrambling the floor any piece of you he can find and grasping it tightly, no matter how much he bleeds.

He's been healing significantly, yet he still sometimes ponders back on the thought of you.

– Kazuha, Zhongli, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Albedo, Welt, Jing Yuan

You've brought him comfort and happiness, but you have passed. Most days, he can bring himself to work, to travel, to do things he'd normally be able to do before your death, but sometimes he finds his mind lingering back to you. He still keeps a photo of you with him, and sometimes– like today– he pulls it out of his pocket or bag, and he stares at what once was, what he once had and took for granted.

He will not cry over it anymore, not like he used to, but it still sinks in his heart. When he looks at you, he yearns to feel your touch, to feel your presence, but that alone is impossible, lest he visit your grave with one of his own. Yet, he still longs to hear your voice, to feel loved by you again, even if those are things unreachable. He knows that, though, and he has managed to distract himself from his longing for you.

He's tried rebounds once or twice, but his love for you remained, and none of those new relationships got anywhere. You have his heart, but he doesn't regret it. Someone will take it from your grave, perhaps. If not, then he doesn't mind being single.

Besides, he'll then be able to die, too, and reunite with you.

But for now, he safely tucks the photo of you back into his pocket, and he continues on with his life. (Albeit, still trying to live comfortably without you).

[astraystayyh]

You're sexy I'm sexy

Jeongin x reader. Friends to lovers. Lots of pining and tension. Innie has a fat crush. Mention of alcohol and drinking!

Inspired by You're sexy I'm sexy by Eric Nam, also by this moodboard by @chachachannah <3

Jeongin is out with his friends, and you. You're tipsy and sitting on his lap, and he doesn't think he can keep his crush for you at bay anymore.

skz song series masterlist.

a.n: 7/8 of the series and a little fun break from all the angst <3 can't believe there is only one fic to go now :")

Jeongin is out with nine of his friends, they are loud and boisterous, their laughter echoing throughout the small bar they're in. Yet, the only thing he can seem to focus on is you. You're giggling at a joke Minho just told, and it feels as if your laugh is molten sunshine, running through his veins and igniting him from within.

You squint your eyes as you take a sip of your drink, your nose scrunching up as the liquor grazes your tastebuds, and Jeongin can't seem to take his eyes off of you. He is enthralled by your every move, and you're not even doing anything.

He's had a crush on you for a while, four months to be exact- 120 days where his every waking moment was spent thinking of you. It happened so abruptly, taking him completely off-guard. He's never felt this way before- a blushing mess, putty in your hands, so pliable for you to mold however you want. 

He shakes his head, tugging slightly at his black bangs. He remembers how you complimented him on his new color, running a hand through his freshly dyed hair. You’re always so nonchalant, in your way of touching him as if you don't leave him burning up in your trail. As if your knee bumping into his doesn't make electricity shoot through his body, as if your arm resting lazily on his shoulder doesn't make the world around him fade away, until all he sees is you.

You stand up to go get another drink, and Jeongin finally feels as if he can breathe again. "You're staring at yn," Hyunjin nudges his side with his elbow, and Jeongin drawls out a whine, hiding his face in his hands, "I know." 

Some time has passed, and Chan has called over some people he knows, so now everyone is squeezed into this tiny brown booth with Jeongin at the end of it. But no one seems to mind the lack of space, everyone is delighted the exam season is finally over.

You come back, a red drink in your hand, and Jeongin can tell it’s you just from the intoxicating smell of your perfume. He's learned to recognize you through those small details- he can even distinguish your soft knocks on his door when you visit his dorm. 

There is no place left for you in the booth, and you pout slightly. Jeongin goes to stand up to leave you his place, but you push him gently back down. 

"Do you mind?" you ask, pointing at his lap and he startles, looking between you and his legs. He stays silent for a while, unsure of how to answer, and you smile slightly.

"Never mind, it's okay," you leave to get a chair but he grabs your hand abruptly, pulling you on top of his lap. 

Jeongin doesn't know what's taking over him, he's never been this bold. But he accounts it on the one sip of alcohol he's taken, this, and the fact you proposed such a thing. He knows you're tipsy because your cheeks are tinted pink and you don't seem to mind where you’re sitting, on his lap. 

Jeongin can't think straight anymore, too overwhelmed by the warmth of your body. You are everywhere, all at once, and he feels a sudden urge to bury his face in your hair and never let go. You move your hair to your right shoulder, and the scent of your shampoo tickles his nose. The curve of your neck is exposed, and he wonders what would happen if he grazed it with his teeth.

Would shivers run down your spin? Would you gasp softly, pupils dilating as if trying your best to take him all in?

You are laughing, again, and the melodic sound pulls Jeongin out of his wandering thoughts. He finds it endearing, how your entire body shakes when you chuckle, as if laughter reverberates through you from head to toe. Was it normal to be so aware of someone's existence? To know them more than you know yourself? 

"Am I bothering you?" you turn to ask him, a soft smile on your face, and he shakes his head. It felt as if his tongue was tied in an impossible knot, he couldn't think, or dare to speak with you so near. 

"You're warm," you point out, placing your cold hands on his heated cheeks. He closes his eyes, leaning into your cooling touch. 

"Here, let me," you smile, grabbing the collar of his leather jacket and shrugging it off of him. He simply watches as you place the discarded jacket on top of your lap, before rolling the sleeves of his white t-shirt a bit upward. Your hand lingers on his forearm, squeezing it lightly, and it feels as if you’ve sealed the skin with your palm. Anyone who gazes at it will be able to tell you touched him.

You lean your back onto his chest, and Jeongin tentatively wraps his arm around your waist. Your hand reaches up to play absentmindedly with his silver rings, and he wonders what you must look like to other people. He wanted them to think that you were a couple, he realizes. Maybe if enough people believed it, it'd become a reality.

The night passes and the place beside Jeongin frees up, but you stay on his lap. His chin is now on your shoulder, your back snug against his chest. He can feel every twitch of your body and every soft exhale you take, and he unconsciously mirrors your actions, as if looking for any way to intertwine your being with his.

He goes to grab a water bottle from the table but you hand it to him, unscrewing the cap in the process. You turn to face him, as he brings the bottle to his mouth, his eyes still fixated on you. A water droplet runs down his throat, and you trace over its path with your finger lightly, which makes his Adam's apple bob up and down furiously.

Your finger doesn't leave his skin- you are tracing over his collarbones now, and he licks his lips nervously. Your touch is barely there, it would be farfetched to even compare it to a feather. But it's you who's touching him, so he feels it, everywhere.

Your hand moves to rest on top of his chest, and he knows you can feel his heart beating widely in there. He thinks the entire room can hear it at this point. A testament of what you do to him, of what you make him feel. Only you.

"Hi there," you smile innocently and Jeongin lets out a dry chuckle, his hooded eyes gazing intensely into yours.

"Hey you," he whispers, grabbing a strand of your hair and twirling it between his fingers. His gaze flickers from your eyes, to your nose and then to your lips. It stays there, too enamored to possibly move somewhere else. You're talking, he knows you are, but he can't seem to hear what you are saying.

He can't blame it on the alcohol because he hasn't even drunk that much. But his mind is foggy with thoughts of you, of what he wants to do with you, if you'd let him.

"Why are you looking at me like this?" you ask, a slight giggle rhythming your words. 

"Do you even know how pretty you are," he says in awe before his eyes slightly widen in shock. Did he just say this out loud?

"Is that why you kept looking at me all night?" you smile, a hint of teasing in your tone, and Jeongin buries his head in your shoulder. "Shut up," he says lowly, embarrassment clear in his voice at being caught. 

"It's okay, you're so pretty too," you smile, pulling his head away so you'd be able to look at him again. 

His eyes find your lips instantly, like two magnets that can't help but be drawn to one another- fated to be together, no matter how much they try to stay apart.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks breathlessly, raw hope dripping from his tone. "We don't have to be something more I just-" 

You cut him off with your mouth crashing on his, desperately, and he gasps onto you as if you're the oxygen with which he breathes. You taste sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he's getting drunk from the way your mouths move against one another. He wraps his arm around your waist, thumb brushing your sides gently in an effort to bring you impossibly close. Your hands finds his hair, tugging slightly at the ends of it, and it's as if you wanted this too all along. As if Jeongin wasn't alone in his longing for you.

Your lips are soft, immensely so, and he doesn't think he can go back to not kissing you. To preserving you in his mind as a fond memory, not when he knows what it feels like to have his mouth on yours.

"I want to be somebody to you," he says between kisses, desperation lacing his words. He doesn't care how needy he sounds. He's been waiting for four months. If there is a slight chance you like him back, he'd take it and water it enough until it blooms into something much more.

"You already are," you smile into the kiss, your teeth clashing against his which makes you both giggle. "You'll kiss me again when we are sober, right?"

"I'll kiss you for the rest of my life if you'd let me," he brushes his nose against yours gently, and you smile softly at him, wiping the remains of your red lipstick from the corner of his mouth. He places a tender kiss on your wrist, before pressing his swollen lips onto yours again.