#cycle of dread and anxiety

[quebrntahuesos]

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[melancholicscoundrel]

I very often call my family members “fucking stupid shitheads” and I say it with love

[saisons-en-enfer]

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[duoduotian]

it's so frustrating living with misophonia especially when the person that is causing the sound you hate, is aware you don't like hearing it and still do it. :) for me, i immensely dislike tv volume higher than usual range when no one is watching the tv. just turn it off it's not that hard lmaooo

[vaticinatrix]

sorry i had a panic attack so bad i couldn’t speak over the inherent futility of infectious disease research and prevention. that wasn’t very woman in stem, every person deserves a shot at the best possible health for them of me

[ceoofyearning]

I only pray, don’t fall away from me

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: The world feels like it’s falling apart around you, but Azriel finally comes home and helps you hold all the pieces together.

Tags/Warnings: Hurt and Comfort, depressive themes & thoughts, anxiety, nightmares, mentions of a minor character death (not the mc/reader) || please mind the tags.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: this week was though so here’s a bit of a hurt & comfort fic; hope your days are kind to you guys xoxo

Links: Fic Masterlist | My Art

You’re so damn tired.

The last few weeks have been difficult, to say the least. The healing house has been filled to the brim with the wounded and sick. Altercations with Beron’s soldiers by the border have been increasing at an alarming rate, while countless spies from the continent have been winnowed in after being caught by Koschei’s contingent forces. You can’t even begin to imagine the state of the civilians that might’ve been caught in the crossfire. 

There is tension in the air with the threat of the inevitable war looming on the horizon. It doesn’t help that the winter chill, in all of its foreboding fury, has come to ravage the lands and its people. You love your work as a healer, you really do. Some days, the thought of the good you do, the people you help, is enough to keep you going. But too often, it feels like a thankless job that leaves you drained to the core. 

In your free time, you’ve been parsing through ancient texts in search of information on Death Gods and anything that could be used against Koschei. His looming threat is a cloud of dread that hangs over everyone, especially Rhys. The least you could do is to help carry the burden. It’s not like you could sleep, anyway. These days it is as though your mind adamantly refuses to let you rest. At the very least, the task keeps you distracted when you’re stuck alone in your apartment. 

Ever since Azriel had been sent to the continent for a reconnaissance mission nearly a month ago, the apartment you share has started to feel a little too big, too desolate. Before you knew it, the white walls had been transmuted from your home into what felt like the bars of a cage. 

The two of you haven't been apart for so long since the mating bond snapped. You didn’t think you'd feel his absence as acutely as you did, but it felt like the loss of a limb where the wound refused to heal and you were already bleeding out. His part of the bond is blacked out completely, a devouring void where Azriel’s comforting presence should have been. It’s for your own safety, he said. But you can’t help it. You’re plagued with worry, with imagined hurts and tragedies, amplifying the brewing conflict in your mind. 

It is easier to catch yourself when Azriel is near. When the thoughts begin to swirl like a hurricane around you - winds whipping, oceans rising - it feels like Azriel’s arms are the only safe harbor you can rely on. But Azriel isn’t here now. 

What frustrates you most is that you’ve been better recently. You’ve been good. You ate your meals, slept reasonably, even had a goddamned routine set up. You guzzled down your tonics in hopes of smoothing out the edges of your frayed mind, that perhaps it could lend you some semblance of normalcy. But no. Weeks of being haunted by nightmares, of overextending yourself, of loss and suffering seeping under your skin day by day have taken its toll. 

You are just too damn tired. 

A child died, barely over thirteen years old. She was bastard-born, which meant she had nothing to her name other than the rags on her back and her birthright to suffer generational oppression and cruelty. This is the worst winter the Night Court has had in centuries, and she didn’t even have a decent roof over her head. Needless to say, she hadn’t been in the best health. But despite that, the moment her cycle had come, the men forced her to go through the clipping. In her struggle, the imbeciles accidentally nicked a vital artery. Normally, her Illyrian healing would’ve granted her a strong chance for survival, but she had been so sick, her body weakened by hours spent in the frigid cold. 

By the time you had been summoned to heal her, she no longer had the strength to recover. Numbness washed over you at the image of her unseeing eyes, the same shade as Azriel’s in the right light, trained toward the vast empty sky. You have a feeling it isn’t a sight you’d forget any time soon. 

You don’t know how long it’s been. The room is shrouded with a thick blanket of darkness, the only respite coming from the dwindling candlelight by your bedside. Only silence exists within these four walls, interrupted by the occasional patter of water leaking from the kitchen sink. You burrow deeper into the sheets, inhaling the trace of Azriel’s scent that still lingered like it would somehow quell this ache inside you. 

Despite spending most of the day bedbound, you’ve barely had any sleep. There is no respite to be found in the dreaming, only nightmares lying in wait. It seems your mind has a knack of bringing your worst fears. Azriel bruised, bloodied and utterly alone, lost, somewhere in the vastness of the continent, hazel eyes - his, then hers, then his again - glazing over, crimson seeping into the arid ground below. 

For the last few weeks, you’ve gathered your grief and worry like rocks to wear around your neck. Your body is heavy, the phantom weight sinking and settling within the marrow of your bones, refusing to leave. It feels like you could stay in this bed forever until you dissipate into nothing but sand, smoke and thought.

You managed to send out a request for the texts Rhys needed translated, but not much else. You’re thankful he directly portalled them on your worktable because you don’t think you could brave the journey to the library today. You don’t think you could do much of anything today, in all honesty. 

So there you lay, bundled up in a collection of blankets, at least three inches of cotton and down that never seem enough to warm you. A book rests in your hands, yet your eyes remain unfocused, not truly seeing the words.

You run your thumb over the crisp paper, knowledge older than you, older than this city and yet you couldn't even bring yourself to focus long enough to dissect their true meaning. Your will is liquid in your hands, slipping through the cracks in between your fingers. Accidentally, you tug too hard on a page and it tears easily beneath your touch. If you had your wits about you, you would’ve been horrified by what you’ve just done. But as you are now, it is difficult to care. 

That’s what you feel like at this moment, you realize. These past few weeks have left you feeling spent, worn out, paper thin. Absently, you stretch out your hand towards the candlelight, close enough to feel the warmth lick against your cool skin. The flame casts a brilliant silhouette around your shadowed hand. It’s a wonder why golden light doesn’t seep right through. 

That’s how Azriel finds you.

The front door of your apartment creeks open, letting in a flood of muted morning light. Your first instinct is to retreat beneath the covers to shield yourself. Azriel calls your name in the silence, worry permeating each syllable. No doubt, he is cataloging the mess your shared space had become in your unintentional neglect. 

You say nothing, wondering if you could just close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, anything to escape his scrutiny. A breath of relief escapes him when he finds you in bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as he sits beside you. 

The urge to curl tighter around yourself is strong. But he repeats your name and, as though he had cast a spell, you unspool before him, your muscles unwinding, one fiber at a time. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks, voice painfully soft.

“Okay,” you croak out from beneath the blankets. 

Azriel gradually draws the sheets away from your body, giving you ample time to protest if you’d like. Then, he rests his hand on your shoulder. Unbidden, a shiver runs down your spine, followed by a stuttered breath. You don’t realize how much you missed his touch until his textured hand begins its soothing path up and down your back, his heat sinking into your skin. 

Shame washes over you despite the bone-deep comfort you find upon his gentle ministrations. You don’t want him to see you this way. Azriel deserves better, the voices in your head insist. He deserves a mate whose mind does not devour itself at every given opportunity, a mate who does not quake beneath the weight of the world and the idea of their own immortal existence.

As though detecting your train of thought, his shadows leave their preferred perch on his shoulders to pool around you instead. Tendrils of darkness brush away the tears on your face, while some thread through your hair like a gentle breeze. 

On the other hand, Azriel urges you to rest your head on his lap. He begins to run his hand through your hair, uncaring of how greasy and tangled it has become. Eventually, his voice pierces the silence, injecting warmth into the distance between you. He hums a tune you do not recognize, but you can't help but cling to each winding note like a lifeline. Azriel has always had a beautiful voice - depthless, silken and soothing. It feels like a privilege to hear the song that he normally reserves for his shadows.

You must’ve been a pitiful sight to behold, and yet Azriel never looks at you like you are. He always treats you like something to cherish, something to love, like you’re someone he’s spent lifetimes desperately waiting for and you’ve been entirely worth the wait. A traitorous part of you feels like you’ll never deserve it, this love.

Azriel must sense the hurricane of emotions waging a one-sided war in your head, despite the mental shields you adamantly keep up. But he doesn’t tell you to stop, doesn’t brush off your worry with empty words and false promises. Instead, he simply says, “I love you.” 

He speaks it as though it is a fact like one would say that the sky is blue, and the grass is green, and the world would keep on turning in peteruity, orbiting the sun the same way you’ll continue to orbit around each other. His chapped lips ghost over your temple, murmuring your name like a plea, a prayer. 

“More than anything in this world,” he adds as he pulls you into his embrace. 

Your body is pliant for him, arms winding around his neck like that is where they’re meant to be. His arms wrap around your waist to hold you impossibly closer. Webbed wings stretch to curl around the two of you, creating a cocoon of darkness that keeps the rest of the world at bay. With your head resting on his chest, you could hear his heartbeat thudding in chorus with yours. 

“I love you too,” you reply after a long stretch of silence. “But sometimes I wish you could’ve had a better mate.” 

“There is no one better,” Azriel insists. “There is only you, my love; through light, through darkness, through whichever end. Only you.” And you feel the truth of his words as surely as the twinned beating of your hearts. Sometimes it’s hard to convince your traitorous mind that you could have this, that someone could love you so deeply despite having seen you at your worst. Azriel presses another kiss against your cheek, and despite yourself, you begin to believe his words.

You don’t know how long Azriel holds you like that, but it finally feels like a stretch of eternity you could bear.

“What can I do to help, love?” Azriel prompts, cupping your face in the cradle of his scarred palms - their texture, a familiar comfort. 

You turn over his question in your head for a few moments, savoring his scent, the sensation of his skin against your own. A part of you is tempted to ask him to lay beside you for the rest of the day, for a week, for an entire lifetime. You know Azriel would if you asked it of him. But beyond this room, the world continues its elliptical path around the sun and time still ticks on regardless of how disconnected you feel from your own reality. 

“A bath,” is all you manage to say.

Azriel nods, before reluctantly peeling himself from you. “Have you eaten?” 

“‘M not hungry,” you mumble as you sink back into the sheets, sighing as the comforter swallows you up. In truth, you can’t remember when your last meal had been. Hunger didn’t seem so pressing in the last few days.

“That’s not what I asked.” Azriel’s tone leaves no room for argument or negotiation. 

“No,” you finally answer, although with much trepidation. “Not yet.” 

He hums, clearly displeased, but says nothing else. You can already imagine the frown that must be stretching across his face. But it seems Azriel’s presence alone is enough to quieten your mind, at least for now. You must’ve been dead tired because it doesn’t take long for the rhythmic sound of Azriel's familiar footfalls to lull you into dreamless sleep.

"Love," Azriel whispers, his hand hovering over your shoulder, rousing you from your shallow slumber. You blink languidly until molten eyes come into focus. The candlelight flickers, and shadows dance across his face. Azriel’s normally sharp features are softened by the tenderness in his expression. You’ll never tire of waking to the sight of him. 

With a groan, you half-roll half-stumble out of bed. Azriel stays an arm’s length away in case you need him, but he’s careful not to crowd you. His shadows have no such reservations, however. The dark tendrils fretfully twine around your arms, making you smile. You thank them quietly, and for a moment, they seem to dance with delight. Regardless of your initial unsteadiness, you manage to pad all the way to the bathroom.

Upon crossing the threshold, the sweet scent of jasmine immediately overtakes your senses. The tub has already been filled up, steam rising from the sun-covered surface. You begin to unbutton your tunic, clumsy fingers tumbling through your first few attempts. Azriel steadies your hands with his firm grip, his shadows gently circling your wrists. 

“May I?” He asks, gesturing to your tunic, and you nod, not wanting to think anymore. His movements are precise, almost clinical, while he undoes the first five buttons, before bunching the garment in his hands and pulling it over your head entirely. Your skin breaks out in gooseflesh once exposed to the cold air. Azriel is careful to keep his gaze on your face, even as you step out of your undergarments. 

Azriel only betrays his composure when he traces your cheekbone, like he can’t quite help himself. From this distance, you have to crane your neck to look up at him. For a moment, the two of you only stare at each other. The bond glows bright between you, the golden thread gleaming as though it hadn't spent the last few weeks completely stretched thin. 

But then, Azriel withdraws, tilting his head to the steaming tub. Obediently, you step into the water’s warm embrace, the heat nearly stinging your skin. Logically, however, you know it’s only because you’ve allowed yourself to stay in the cold for too long. 

A relieved sigh escapes you as you sink further into the tub. One of his shadows rushes to pillow your heavy head as it rests on the tub’s rim. You thank the sweet little thing, and swirls of black sway back and forth like a dog wagging its tail. Meanwhile, Azriel takes his place by the head of the tub, sitting back on his heels. 

“I’d like to wash your hair,” he says and you're touched by the earnest quality his voice takes. 

“Okay,” you breathe. You’ve never been good at denying Azriel anything, nor did you want to. The more the ice beneath your skin thaws, the more you find that you want him near. 

Azriel begins by running his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp as he pours warm water over your head. With a pop of a bottle, the floral scent of shampoo fills the air. He lathers the substance on your head, his touch tender even as his fingers work through the knots in the strands, untangling them with care. 

After a while, he rinses off the suds and coats his hands with oil. He begins combing his fingers through your hair, starting from the ends and working his way up. The rhythmic motion of his fingers is calming as he draws circles against your scalp. You find yourself melting into the moment, feeling utterly content for the first time in what feels like a very long time. 

Once done, Azriel grabs a small towel and asks, “Do you want help washing?”

You shake your head, wanting to do this for yourself, at least. Understanding flashes in his eyes, and he spares you a soft smile. With that, Azriel leaves the towel by the tub and politely excuses himself from the room. With the door left slightly ajar, you could still hear him move around the apartment followed by the lyrical clinking of silverware against ceramic.

It takes you a few minutes to gather the energy to lather yourself with soap, and a few more to finally rise from the bath. But once the grime is off your skin, you feel a bit of the weight wash off with it too. You feel a bit more like yourself.

After drying off, you tug on the silk robe Azriel has left for you, securing it loosely around your waist. Upon exiting, you spy him by the dining table, scooping a generous serving of soup into a bowl. The mouthwatering aroma of rich broth wafts through the room, and you realize just how hungry you are when your stomach growls in protest. You approach him from behind, making sure that each step is audible.

Azriel continues to set up the table, but you can tell he’s aware of your presence from the way his shoulders seem to relax. The sudden urge to have him close is palpable, an instinct so deeply ingrained into your being. So,  gradually, you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face on his back. You take a deep inhale, breathing him in - a lungful of moontime mist and cedarwood smoke. 

“I’m glad you’re home,” you murmur against Azriel’s back, your voice muffled by his shirt. 

“I’m glad to be home,” he whispers. His hands abandon their task in favor of twining his fingers with your own. 

Azriel turns to face you and holds your face in his hands. Beneath the swathes of sunlight, his eyes are alight with golden flame, flecks of green scattered over his irises like an afterthought. There is nothing but love in his gaze, nothing but acceptance. 

“Thank you,” you say, tilting your head so the words could kiss his lips, not quite touching but close. “For being here, for loving me, for choosing me, everyday.” 

“I will always choose you,” he vows, before planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Today,” another peck on the tip of your nose; “Tomorrow,” one more on your cheek; “And all the days after,” he finishes with a chaste caress on your lips.

Then, he rests his forehead on yours, your bodies slotted against each other like a lock and its predestined key. In Azriel’s presence, you find it easier to breathe, easier to simply be. For the first time in a long time, your mind is clear and your heart beats in a calm, languid pace that matches his own.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you request, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. Azriel’s gaze is searching, scouring for any hint of anything short of absolute certainty. Perhaps you should tell him that in this world of constant change and chaos, he’s the only one you’re certain of.

Azriel must be satisfied with what he finds written across your features because he replies, “So kiss me then,” the ghost of a smirk playing across his lips.

You’re surprised to find that it’s easy to return the playful expression. Your rise to the tips of your toes while your fingers thread through his raven black hair. When your lips touch, it is as though the world breathes a sigh of relief. Reality realigns and everything outside the two of you and your shared breaths turns inconsequential. He moves against you with practiced ease, like the natural ebb and flow of the tide.

An eternity of this, you think, doesn’t seem so daunting after all. 

AN: i’m not sure if that was too much but thank you for reading 💙 As always, i’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts

English isn’t my first language, so if you see any mistakes, please lmk thru dm! 💙

Also, I just wanted to yap about the Az fics im in the process of writing:

1. Vampire!Azriel x Reader (Working tittle: Ashes in my wake)

I just love the idea of cannibalism (or yk, blood drinking) as a metaphor for love in literature so here we are. ( @/annikin-im-panicin this is ur influence) This one is a bit of a dark fic (nothing too crazy tho, I think), so i’m not sure how it’ll be received. But the idea has been haunting me for yonks so I just had to write it.

2. Tattoo Artist!Azriel x Lucien’s Best Friend!Reader (Working tittle: Drink dry the river Lethe)

This one is a multichapter fic (maybe 4-7 chapters, we’ll see) so it might take me a while before I start posting, but i’ve mostly finished writing the first (very smutty) and second (very angsty) chapter. I ‘m not entirely sure what direction to bring this yet but maybe you guys can help me decide?

Unrelated to Az, but i’ve been brainworming a poly dark-ish innocent!reader x Feysand fic, and a slightly less dark and more sappy(?) poly warrior!reader x royal!nessian fic. I’m so excited to start these but my pile of wips is giving me the stink eye 😂

[myfictionaldreams]

~ Mafia!Stucky Mastlist⍟✪ 📚~

Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. I thought it was about time I made a list dedicated to my favourite boys, so welcome to my Mafia!Stucky masterlit!I love to write in my spare time, and the fiction I create is for 18+ readers ONLY. Also, everything is character x fem!reader, and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.

Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags  ♥ Question? ♥ latest works ♥

you're mine (smut, angst, dark)

Steve loves showing off what’s his, you. What does eh do when he sees someone staring at what is his?

i need more (fluff, smut)

You’d been off all day and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Steve. He’d do anything to make you feel better so when you started begging him to help you have some release, he didn’t hold back.

ruined orgasm - kinktober (smut)

He had given you one rule: do not interrupt the meeting. So, of course you had to walk straight into the meeting that had all of America’s most noterious gangsters

steve's birthday wish (P.1) (fluff, smut, angst)

It was approaching Steve’s birthday and you had no idea what to get him. Bucky suggests just asking the Mafia boss what he would like, but would you regret your decision when you hear what Steve truly wants.

When Two Become Three (P.2) (fluff, smut)

It has been a few weeks since Steve sat back and watched your be pleasured by his best friend Bucky, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially, the part where Steve confessed his fantasy to have a threesome, but would you ever agree to it?

one more meeting (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved.

repeat after me(fluff, smut, angst)

It wasn’t often that you had to attend a party with your boyfriends but today, you found yourself at one, filling you with anxiety and dread. How will the boys react when they find you close to a panic attack and starting to doubt their love for you?

how many?(fluff, smut)

Steve had finally found time to take you and Bucky on holiday. What he doesn’t tell you however is that today, he wanted to see just how many times he and Bucky could get you to orgasm.

i can’t lose you (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?

no touching (fluff, smut, angst)

You blatantly ignored their instructions and now you had to suffer the repercussions for your actions.

i don’t care (fluff, smut)  

'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

the one weakness (fluff, smut, angst) 

It wasn't often you were by yourself so when you quickly go to the coffee shop, what happens when the enemy is watching and waiting nearby.

overwhelming (fluff)

It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.

the fun game  (fluff, smut)

Steve and Bucky had forgotten about your date, leaving you waiting for two hours in the restaurant. How will they react when you decide to play your own little game as payback and, how far can you go before they finally snap?

harder, please  (fluff, smut, angst)

Your mind was clouded with lust and pleasure, as you begged repeatedly for more from Bucky but, what happens when you get hurt in the process?

protect and forget  (fluff, smut, angst) 

Life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything did not always go to plan. Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. What happens when Steve and Bucky begin to push you away as they search for the threat?

All Eyes On You  (smut)  

“Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers

you belong to me  (fluff, smut, angst)

These girls knew you were dating Steve and Bucky, so why is it that they thought it was ok to have their hands all over them?

dont fall asleep  (fluff, smut, angst)

It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?

rule number one.  (fluff, smut, angst)

It was Bucky's birthday but even a surprise party won't stop Steve and Bucky from punishing you for not looking after yourself.

Last Hope (CH. 1) (CH. 2)  (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

our little bean  (fluff, angst)    

You stared unblinking at the Doctor who had just told you the news you couldn't quite comprehend. You were on birth control, so why is the test in his hands saying that you're pregnant?  Accidents happened but is this a happy one? (Yes it is).

the limit  (fluff, smut, angst)

Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?

sick day (fluff)

Bucky had warned you that dancing in that rain without a coat would lead you to be ill, maybe you should have listened more to his warning.

accident’s happen (fluff, smut, angst) 

You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

everyone is breakable  (fluff, smut, angst)

Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.

winter soup  (fluff, smut, angst)

There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

something new   (smut)

The mafia leader was known to be possessive and enjoy showing off his girl but what happens when he wants to do this by being intimate in front of his gang?

pegging - kinktober  (smut)

Steve had once instructed bucky how to pleasure you but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?

cockwarming - kinktober (smut)

You’re feeling needy and restless so Steve offers you something to suck on, much to Bucky’s amusement.

double penetration in one hole - kinktober  (smut)

You were adament to prove Steve wrong and do something you’ve never done before.

fear play - kinktober (smut, dark)

You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing and, all you could was silence echoing around the house but, you knew you weren’t alone.

role reversal - kinktober  (smut)

For once, you were the one shouting at the enemy, demanding that they leave your office. Steve and Bucky were in awe so you tried to keep up this confidence and burn off some energy with them.

Duke, Duchess and Knights  (fluff, angst)

You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.

Merry Christmas (fluff, smut)

It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?

Safety Measures (Angst, Smut, Fluff)

It was the anniversary of Steve and Bucky saving you from your sadistic brother. Usually, it was a time of celebration for you, but this year, you couldn't help but feel paranoid and unsafe.

Drabbles

The first to give their jacket when reader is cold

Mad & Sad moments

Saying the wrong thing

TikTok trend: no kissing

Who is more protective?

safe space in your new home

Halloween Costumes

[thef1diary]

Baby Jr | Five

— Corked Confession

series masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work.

warnings: 18+ allusion to smut (barely)

pairing: carlos x fem!reader

wc: 2.2k

As the soft, golden hues of the evening sun filtered through the windows, casting long, dancing shadows across your living room, you found yourself perched nervously on the edge of your couch. You found yourself idly playing with the soft material of the cushions, tracing the intricate patterns repeatedly. With each twist and turn of the fabric, your mind wandered, flitting from one thought to the next like a restless butterfly.

The room was enveloped in a hushed stillness, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. Each tick felt like a heavy weight on your shoulders, amplifying the tension that hung in the air as you awaited Ava's arrival.

You shifted uneasily, the tension coiling in your stomach like a tightly wound spring. Unable to sit still any longer, you rose from the couch with a sigh, tossing the cushion behind you. You began to pace the length of the room, the soft carpet muffling the sound of the footsteps as you moved back and forth in a nervous rhythm, allowing yourself to let your mind wander.

The entire day, you filled every passing hour with the relentless task of avoiding Carlos at all costs. You threw yourself into your work, burying your emotions beneath a mountain of tasks and responsibilities, hoping to drown out the nagging thoughts that threatened to consume you.

But now, once you returned home, there was no escaping the stark reality of your situation. You stood in the dimly lit living room as the events of the day replayed in your mind like a broken record, each moment etched into your memory with painful clarity.

You couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at your insides, knowing that you were keeping such a life-altering secret from him. But the fear of his reaction, of the inevitable confrontation that would follow, kept you rooted in place, trapped in a cycle of uncertainty and anxiety.

Finally, the doorbell rang, breaking the heavy silence that hung heavy in the air and you felt a surge of both relief and apprehension flood through you. It was as if the weight had already begun lifting off your shoulders, knowing that Ava's arrival signaled the beginning of a conversation you had been dreading yet desperately needed to have.

You opened the door to find Ava standing there, her expression a mixture of concern and determination. She stepped inside and immediately pulled you into a tight hug. "I'm here," she said softly, pulling back to look you in the eyes. "Let's sit down and talk."

Leading her to the couch, you noticed that Ava had brought a bottle of wine with her, a ritual for your gossip sessions. She set the bottle down on the coffee table, smiling warmly. "I figured we could use this tonight," she said, her tone light. "It always helps us unwind and talk things through."

You felt a pang of sadness as you looked at the bottle. "Actually, Ava, I can't have any wine," you said quietly, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

Ava's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not?" she asked, her concern deepening.

You took another deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Ava, there's something I've been hiding, something that's been eating away at me," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "I didn't know how to tell you, but I can't keep it to myself any longer.”

Ava leaned in closer, her eyes never leaving yours. "Whatever it is, you can tell me," she assured you. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

You nodded, grateful for her unwavering support. "I know, and that's why I need to be honest with you," you said, your voice steadying. "Ava, I'm pregnant."

Ava's eyes widened in surprise, her hand instinctively reaching out to grasp yours in a gesture of comfort. "Oh my god," she whispered, her voice filled with shock.

As tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, you reached for the small cardboard box on the coffee table and opened it, revealing the first pregnancy test you've taken. With trembling hands, you carefully lifted it out and showed it to Ava.

"This is the first one," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ava took the test from you, her fingers brushing against yours in a gentle gesture of support. She studied it for a moment, her brows furrowing in concentration as she noticed the faint lines that indicated a positive result.

Her gaze flicked up to meet yours, her eyes full of concern, "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice gentle.

You nodded, reaching back into the box to pull out the rest of the tests. "I took ten pregnancy tests," you said, your voice growing more frustrated with each word. "I peed on ten fucking sticks, and they all said the same damn thing." You laid the tests out in front of her, each one displaying the unmistakable positive result.

Ava looked at the tests, then back at you, her expression shifting from concern to empathy. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on your arm again. "How are you feeling about all this?" she asked softly.

You took a deep breath, the frustration and fear you had been holding back threatening to spill over. "I have a human being growing inside of me, Ava," you said, your voice breaking. "I'm not okay."

Ava's eyes filled with sympathy as she listened to you, her hand still resting on your arm. "I can't even imagine what you're going through, but it's okay to feel like this, it's a lot to process."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I have a small human being depending on me to grow strong and healthy for a whole nine months," you continued, the weight of your words sinking in.

"What's to stress about, right?" you shrugged, a sad smile growing on your face.

Ava pulled you into a comforting hug, letting you rest your head on her shoulder. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here for you, every step of the way."

You pulled back slightly, wiping away the tears that had started to fall. "Thank you," you said, your voice shaky but grateful. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smiled warmly, "luckily, you'll never have to find out."

Ava paused for a moment, then gently asked, "So, who's the father?"

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. "It's Carlos," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ava's eyes widened slightly, "Carlos? Like the Ferrari driver Carlos?"

You eyed her oddly, managing a small smile despite your anxiety. "No, his father, you idiot, of course it's the Ferrari driver Carlos."

Ava shoved your shoulder playfully while rolling her eyes. "That actually makes so much sense," she said thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" You asked, raising your eyebrows.

"All those times he made excuses to take you away from us and how you guys are always together. I didn't know you guys were dating," she explained, and you winced, hoping that it wasn't too obvious to the others.

You shook your head. "No, Ava, we aren't dating..." you trailed off, letting her piece the information together.

Her eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. "Wait, you're not dating but..." she paused, her eyes flicking between your face and the pregnancy tests on the table. "So it was just..?"

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "It just happened, and now I'm, well, you know."

"Wow," she said softly. "That's a lot to take in."

"Tell me about it," you replied, your voice tinged with both sarcasm and anxiety.

Then, she let out a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "Fuck, you're actually pregnant, huh?"

You couldn't help but smile a little at her attempt to make you laugh. "Yeah, I really am," you said, feeling a bit of the tension ease.

Ava glanced at the wine bottle she had brought, then stood up to find a corkscrew in your kitchen before opening the bottle. "Well, I guess that means I'll just have to drink your share of the wine too," she said with a grin.

You chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Guess so."

Ava's expression grew serious again. "Does he know?" she asked gently.

You shook your head, the weight of the secret heavy on your shoulders. "Do I have to tell him?" you asked, your voice filled with uncertainty.

Ava took a deep breath, her expression serious but kind. "I think he deserves to know, no matter what you choose to do," she said softly. "It's his right to be aware of this."

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm scared," you whispered.

The enormity of the situation, the uncertainty, and the fear of Carlos' reaction weighed heavily on you.

"It's okay to be scared," Ava said, her voice steady and reassuring. "But I'm with you every step of the way. We'll figure this out together."

Ava's presence, her understanding, and her unwavering support made you feel a little lighter, like a small burden had been lifted off your shoulders. You knew there was still a long road ahead, but with Ava by your side, you felt a flicker of hope. Despite the fear and uncertainty, you found comfort in knowing you weren't alone in this.

She reached out and squeezed your hand once more before sitting back with her glass of wine, teasingly taunting you as she took an exaggerated sip which earned an eye roll from you.

"Okay, now that we've got the serious stuff out of the way, I have to ask... is Carlos good in bed?" She wiggled her eyebrows playfully, lightening the mood.

You couldn't help but laugh, a small bubble of amusement breaking through your anxiety.

"Seriously?" You asked, shaking your head.

She placed her wine glass on the table, speaking with loud hand gestures. "I mean he's got to be considering he fucked a baby into you, but c'mon spill the tea!"

You smirked, deciding to have a bit of fun with her. "Well, since you want to know, he's very, very good. Like the way he moves... it's like he knows exactly what I want before I even do. Ava, his hands are fucking magic. He knows how to touch me just right, and oh my god, don't even get me started on his tongue—"

Her eyes widened, her hands flying to cover her ears. "Oh my god, stop! I didn't need to know that much!" she cried out, her cheeks rusted with a light shade of pink. "He's my colleague, basically my boss, or whatever for crying out loud."

You burst out laughing, feeling a sense of relief as the tension in the room dissipated.

Placing your hand on her shoulder, you pretended to be serious. "Oh no, you asked so now you're getting all the details. I mean, have you seen those arms? They aren't just for show, when he lifts me—"

Ava squealed, her hands still over her ears, but her laughter couldn't be contained. "Stop, stop, I don't need to picture that."

"And his neck," you continued, ignoring her protests. "I know they train it and all, but holy shit it's thick, like the kind you just wanna kiss over and over again. And the way he whispers in Spanish—"

Ava's eyes widened even more, and she quickly reached over, covering your mouth with her hand to stop you. "Okay, okay! That's enough! I get it, he's amazing in bed. Spare me the details!"

You laughed against her hand, your eyes sparkling with amusement. Ava finally let go, shaking her head as she laughed. "I don't know why I asked," she muttered. "Now I'm going to have to avoid him at work without blushing like an idiot."

You grinned, "well, you did ask about it."

She rolled her eyes, then settled back on the couch. "Alright, no more bedroom stories. We need to figure out what you're going to do next. Like, telling Carlos."

Your smile faded as you thought about the upcoming conversation. "Yeah, I know. It's just... I'm terrified of how he's going to react."

Ava looked at you with concern. "How bad could he react? I mean, he's always been such a decent guy. And if he does react badly, I'll be right there to smack some sense into him."

You couldn't help but laugh, despite the anxiety gnawing at you. "I appreciate the backup. I just... I don't know. I guess I'm afraid he'll feel trapped or something."

Ava leaned forward, her eyes earnest. "Listen, he's got a right to know. And you're not alone in this. No matter what happens, you've got me, and we'll face it together."

You took a deep breath, trying to let her words sink in. "Thanks, Ava. I just hope it goes okay."

"It will," she said confidently. "And if it doesn't, well, I'll be there with you, and we'll deal with it together. You're stronger than you think, and Carlos might surprise you."

You nodded, feeling a bit more reassured. The evening continued with more supportive words from Ava and plans on how to approach the conversation with Carlos. As daunting as it felt, knowing you had Ava's unwavering support made it a little less terrifying.

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[erodasfishtacos]

The Stranger & The Thief (roommate!abo)

prompt: YN needs a roommate but has never been around alphas. Harry is the alpha her parents warned her about.

word count: 9.6k+

author’s note: hii guys. enjoy there is currently six more parts up of this series on my patreon which you can join for $3USD!

+++++++++++++++

YN didn’t mind alphas.

Not at all.

YN had grown up in a solely beta household which meant out of all of her family, she was the only omega.

It was difficult growing up, trying to figure out all the intricacies of her secondary gender when her family had no idea what any of it was or what it meant.

Heat was something that had been tortuous to figure out because she did that completely on her own.

All her parents could do was put food and water outside the locked bedroom door periodically as the heat, the pain, the agony persisted for at least five days before she started to feel relief.

A depression always followed for another week.

Then anxiety would start to consistently hurt her chest in the week leading up to her heat because her body is dreading the impending doom, of being dragged through the cycle with nothing that seemed to soothe the ache for her.

YN logically knew the solution would be an alpha, an alpha would be able to solve the problems that she was able to figure out on her own, in the privacy of her bedroom.

However, she grew up in a community that was mostly consisting of betas and omegas, there were a few alphas but none that would have been an option for YN.

Alphas intimidated her.

They were aggressive, demanding, dominant whereas she grew up around betas and omegas who were nurturing, empathic, patient.

It was two different worlds and though her parents did not speak down on alphas, that had made it clear that they felt like YN should settle for a nice beta.

YN never thought anything of it.

She did not crave an alpha.

Well…only during her heats but outside of that, there was no desire to mate with one.

All of her partners up until this point had been betas, that had been just fine for her, none of them were too serious.

The closest she got to a serious relationship was Tate, a gentle beta who was nice, thoughtful, and everything YN thought that she wanted in a partner.

It had been going strong for a few months when her heat had hit.

Tate had come over to offer assistance like they had previously discussed but it had not worked out well at all.

+

YN was embarrassed, she knew she had to face her boyfriend sooner or later, and she put it off for two more days after her heat.

They met at the coffee shop that was an even distance between their apartments.

Tate’s demeanor was off from the minute he sat down, he refused to look at YN directly in the eye, and he didn’t reach out to hold her hand across the table like he normally did anytime that they were out together.

He was the one who spoke first, “This isn’t going to work out.”

YN’s eyes widen in utter disbelief, things had been going so well up until her heat, “Tate, you cannot be serious. I…I’m sorry I acted that way but I did not know that was how I was going to react! We…I won’t ask you to help me out again but we don’t have to break up over it.”

Tate laughs without any humor, “I truly never thought you were a knot-snob.”

YN tenses at the derogatory term, it felt venomous coming out of his mouth, “Why would you say that? I’ve never even been interested in an alpha!”

He shakes his head, lips curling upwards in the slightest, “Really? Because I came over to help you, brought groceries, other things to help take care of you, and when I walked into the bedroom, you growled at me like you were feral.”

YN swallows harshly, she remembers, very vaguely and almost through a fog but she knows what he is saying is truthful.

“You demanded I leave because I was a ‘poor excuse of a man’ because I was a beta,” Tate’s anger cracks into something more devastated which made her feel awful because that was never her intention to hurt him, she would never purposely do that, “You said that I must be delusional to think I could satisfy you. Only an alpha could.”

YN knows there’s tears brimming at her eyes, she was aware of how nasty she had been to him, didn’t fully remember everything she had said but she did believe him about what he was repeating because it’s what went through her mind.

She remembers feeling disgust at seeing him, none of that love she normally has for him was present in her mind at the time, just pure anger that a beta thought that they could please her.

“We just don’t have to spend my heat together, Tate,” YN tries, she truly liked him, loved him as a friend, and saw potential in loving him as a partner.

Tate scoffs, self-deprecating as he finally meets her eye, “I will never be enough for you, YN. I know you weren’t in your right headspace when I came over but your nature made it very clear that you would never be satisfied in our relationship.”

He takes a deep breath, “You…You were a whole different person when I came to you. I thought omegas were supposed to be sweet, pliant, and gentle during their heats. You were agitated, aggressive, and hostile in a way that truly frightened me.”

“Tate, please,” YN reaches for his hand but he retracts it instinctually back onto his lap.

“I…I am not doing this because I want it to be like this. I saw a future with you, truly, I did. I…I really think that you should be with an alpha because it’d be unfair for you and the beta if you continue to date them,” Tate sighs as he gathers his coat, he does have that same gentleness when he gives her a soft smile, “I do wish you the best of luck, YN.”

++

YN had curled in on herself after that, tucked away into a shell, and has been in there ever since.

It’s been about six month since she’d broken up with Tate and she had made the mistake of asking another beta for help during her heat, it was friend who knew what they were in for but she just had to really make sure that it was unsafe for her to be with a beta before she ruled them out of her dating life.

++

YN was only on the precipice of her heat, hoping that if the beta came while she was still more cognizant that it would go more smoothly.

That turned out to be an absolute mistake.

Trevor was coming with the idea that he may need to leave within a few minutes of being there or he could be staying for the length of her heat depending on how it would go.

She had given him the key to get into her apartment so that he didn’t have to wait around for her to answer the door.

YN unfortunately remembers the events that transpire but even though she was aware during their interaction, she felt out of control of her body as she typically did in heat where she couldn’t stop herself from reacting as her wolf mind wanted her to.

“YN? Are you alright? I’m here,” Trevor calls out, smiling when YN appears in the small hallway of the apartment, “Oh hey, sorry I was late but there was a line at the store -”

YN’s eyes are wild, unfocused, and her hair is already messy from rolling around in her nest that she had spent time meticulously building as she started to fall into her heat, “Get the fuck out.”

“YN, listen we talked about -” Trevor begins easily, undeterred at first by her words.

“What? Do you think that you’re going to help me through this heat?” YN laughs meanly, shaking her head with a sharp, cruel smile, “I can smell you. What a weak fucking scent. A beta comes into my home like they can satisfy my heat. You are a joke to think you could give me what an alpha could.”

Trevor swallowed harshly, trying not to let the words hurt his feelings, his masculinity, the security he typically felt in his secondary gender but YN’s words were meant to gnaw at his insides, make him question himself.

“YN,” Trevor replies firmer, standing a bit straighter despite his hands trembling.

“Beta,” She replies but it rolls off her tongue like an insult, “You are nothing to me. You think I would want pups from a weak fucking beta? I’d rather never have a knot in my life than the little you have to offer me. You will never be my alpha.”

Trevor has to bite back the insulting name he would want to call her, knowing that that wouldn’t be helpful but also that him being here was not going to be helpful nor did he want to stay because he was worried she was about to rip his throat out.

He shakes his head, a sour taste in his mouth at the rejection of the omega, he had already been insecure in comparison to the alphas around him.

However, he had a crush on YN, he was stupid for thinking that she would magically be okay with him supporting her through her heat, and now he was realizing that was an absolute mistake because he felt worse than he ever as has before.

In the moment, that was her goal to make him feel that he was less than and she had succeeded.

“I’m just going to leave,” Trevor tells her as he turns towards the door, his bottom lip was quivering as he hangs his head, trying desperately to rationalize this, this wasn’t the kind, sweet, YN that he normally knew, this was feral at best.

“Good,” YN coos as she stands defensively in the door, her eyes were darker than Trevor had ever seen them and the smile on her face wasn’t one that relayed friendliness, it was like she was about to downright murder him.

Trevor has never moved so fast in his life.

++

YN was lucid enough during that to understand why Trevor avoided her like the plague after that, never returning her texts, and the one time she ran into him at the gas station, well he acted like he’d never seen her a day in his life.

She held no blame or ill-will, the things she said were nasty, cruel, and unlike her normal character but it wasn’t an excuse.

YN sent him a few long messages detailing how sorry she was, how she regretted putting him in that situation because she valued him as a friend but they all got left on read.

After that, she stopped trying to find anyone to help her with her heat.

She deleted her dating apps and pushed off the idea of finding someone else.

YN also went to the doctor for her erratic behavior during these times.

“Heat-Induced Aggression and Rage Disorder,” The doctor had told her simply, unphased by her explanation of her symptoms, “Most omegas can spend their cycle with any secondary gender, even other omegas. However, the disorder occurs when an omega requires an alpha and will become aggressive when a beta or an omega attempts to help.”

“How do I solve it?” YN asks desperately, this meant that she would never be able to spend her heat with someone and she couldn’t possibly imagine actually being with an alpha, she’d never been around one, really.

YN, of course, came in contact with alphas on the day-to-day, it wasn’t like they were rare.

It was that she didn’t have any friends, coworkers, or connections to alphas because she was in such a densely populated beta area before moving to the city after she graduated college.

“You need to find an alpha who’s willing to spend your heats with you or continue to spend you heats alone,” The doctor shrugs without any better explanation, “Unless you wish to take medication to completely stop your cycle but that has major medical risks that I would advise against, especially if you ever wish to have children.”

++

That’s where YN is at, with a disorder that doesn’t have a treatment that sounds remotely reasonable to her.

Searching whether in person or online for an alpha partner was extremely unsafe which meant that she had resorted to the fact that she would forever spend her heats alone, in pain.

It made her jealous when her omega friends bragged about how enjoyable, how blissful their heats were spent with their partners.

YN wishes she loved hers but instead, she finds herself thinking death sounds more pleasurable than forever spending five days locked in her bedroom by herself, a slave to her own nature with no help from anyone.

++ a year later ++

YN was going to pull her hair out, it was official because why was it so hard to find someone who appeared somewhat normal to fill the empty bedroom in her apartment?

For the last three years, YN had lived in peaceful harmony with her beta friend, Eileen.

Eileen had started dating her girlfriend, Regina, right after they moved in together.

Two weeks ago, Eileen had let YN know that she was moving out and in with Regina after their recent engagement which meant that she no longer had any income to help her with the rent nor the utilities in less than a month.

YN could technically afford everything on her own, the lease was in her name but it made money tight enough that she had to budget down to the dollar which she despised doing - it was much more manageable when she had someone splitting the bills with her.

And because she would rather not have to cut back on her frivolous spending like her unreasonable expensive smoothies and sure, maybe everytime she sees a pair of socks that look exceptionally comfy she feels the need to buy them.

However, after a third interview with a potential flatmate, YN thought that this may be an impossible task and she should already start her budgeting because there had been issues with all three interviewees.

The first, beta, needed the bathroom from six to nine pm with no explanation as to why.

The second, an omega, stated that she would need to be able to conduct an in-person yoga lesson with six people every other day in their living room.

The third, another beta, demanded that they split the fridge storage fifty-fifty because their last roommate put milk on their shelf of the fridge which they defined as a ‘personal attack’ because they were vegan.

So hopeless is where she found herself after that third beta.

That’s where Niall comes in, her lovely lovely beta friend who sometimes she worries has rocks for brain and other times he’s absolutely the most brilliant being to ever walk the earth, it just honestly depends on the day.

However, she could kiss him when he arrives at her apartment with a bag of chinese takeout and something to solve all of her issues completely, “I have a mate from work who needs a place. He makes good money so I know he’d have no issue paying his part. He’s cool, I trust him enough to recommend him, I’ve worked with him for like six years.”

YN barely even hesitated, she trusted Niall enough to know that he wouldn’t have offered the solution if he didn’t think that it was a good option for her.

He does get sheepish halfway through, “I…I did forget to mention that he’s an alpha.”

YN pauses at that, narrowing her eyes at him because he definitely left that part out in the initial description.

“Niall-” YN begins to huff because it’s not that she totally objected but it was something for her to consider and he had just left that out.

“I know, I know,” Niall puts his hands up, “He’s cool though. He really keeps to himself. I know you’ve never been around alphas, let alone live with one but I really think it would be fine. Don’t you trust me? Plus, he really needs a place to stay.”

YN really should give it more thought.

“He just texted and said he’d be willing to pay three thirds of the rent,” Niall tells her as he looks down at his phone, “If he can move in as soon as possible. Plus he’ll cover internet and electric.”

YN really really should think on it.

She’d never been around an alpha, let alone lived with one, she needs to think about it, weigh the pros and cons.

“Tell him he can move in on Friday,” YN finds herself saying and before she can think better of it, Niall is quickly typing away on his phone and the text alert goes off.

“He said that works for him,” Niall gives her an oblivious thumbs up before picking back up his container of rice and clicking the movie back on like he didn’t just wheel and deal the quickest decision she’s ever made in her life.

She didn’t even ask his name.

++

YN typically isn’t this dumb.

She actually prided herself on her impulse control and rational thinking but as she flutters around the apartment on Friday evening, trying to make it as spotless as possible for her new flatmate, she really starts to question her own sanity.

YN realizes that she’s going to have to have serious conversations with this alpha about boundaries, what will they do when it comes to their cycles, and the thought that their scents will run rampant because they obviously won’t use neutralizers when they’re at home.

Niall had not given much more information beside the fact that his name was Harry, he was twenty-eight, and had a higher up position in the company than Niall so they didn’t always have much interaction, Niall had actually just overheard a conversation he was having on the phone.

YN finds out that he had lived on his own since college but after his landlord decided he was going to sell the house he was renting, Harry had to find somewhere else quickly, and that resulted in him moving in with a friend from university.

That friend was another alpha, which turned sour very after soon after moving in together.

Niall was a bit hesitant when he told her that the issue was Harry, not the other alpha.

Harry was territorial, more of the pack leader type, and it became apparent within days that Harry simply could not share a space with another virile alpha despite Harry forcing the other alpha to submit to him on multiple occasions, it didn’t matter.

Even though Niall assured her that it wouldn’t be an issue because she was an omega, it didn’t make her feel much better but she has too strong of a conscious to promise a place for Harry to stay to then to pull that away from him.

Of course, Niall, the twat, couldn’t make it over while Harry was moving in because he had to go to a family birthday dinner which meant that it would just be the two of them.

“It will just be time to get to know one another,” Niall chirped easily on the phone, unbothered and oblivious to the tension that was building in YN.

++

Harry was supposed to be here at six in the evening.

He quite literally knocks on the door at exactly six.

YN hesitates for a moment before opening the door, her heart was beating unusually fast, and when she opens it, it begins to pump even faster.

The man standing in front of her was clearly an alpha without her even knowing this information before hand.

It was interwoven into every aspect of his being, in a way that could be seen physically but on the other hand, it was unspoken, she couldn’t quite describe it but he was exactly what she imagined an alpha to be.

All of him was defined, sharp from his jaw to his nose to his arms.

His shoulders were broad enough that YN wondered if he could even fit through the doorway without squeezing them inward.

He was tall, taller than she had imagined him, and that added with his width and the pure heft of his bulky but lean muscles - he was fucking intimidating and could hurt her without a shadow of a doubt, she’d be defensless.

This is a bad idea.

YN should tell him he can’t move in.

Her parents raised her better than to let a six foot something, very capable alpha in her home to share with her without knowing anything about him.

The fact of the matter was, he did not even look friendly.

Some alphas were like golden retrievers, easy going and a bit airheaded.

Harry was the stark opposite end of that.

The type of alpha that people avoid because of how dangerous they can be.

If YN was walking down the sidewalk and he was walking towards her, she would without a doubt cross the road to avoid bumping into him but yet, she was welcoming him into her house and something within her felt like this was a good idea.

Her inner omega that is.

Who we all know craves an alpha like water and air.

She pushes that down, as much as possible when she notices how big his hands are and how they would look holding her hips -

He has a frown on his face, the light wrinkles it causes shows YN that he has that expression quite often as he looks at her with a mixture of boredom and exasperation, he should be so fucking friendly because of how much YN is overextending to help him.

He isn’t.

After a moment, YN realizes she’d been staring at him dumbly and has yet to introduce herself.

“YN?” Harry finally asks and his voice is deep, only like an alpha’s can be, no beta could even imitate the vibrato of that tone.

“Yeah, uh, come in?” YN’s voice is higher pitched than she’d prefer as she steps aside, her greeting coming out much more like a question than a statement.

Harry blinks dully at her, a backpack over his shoulder and a few boxes next to his feet, “If you do not want me to come in, just say it. If me being an alpha or a guy is too much, tell me now before I move all my fuckin’ stuff in. I don’t like playing these back and forth games.”

YN is startled by his attitude, she can’t recall a time when anyone has ever talked to her so bluntly or without politeness which again, inherently an alpha thing but it still had her off kilter a bit as his face doesn’t change.

“No, sorry, yeah. You can bring your stuff in, I haven’t changed my mind,” YN steps further back into the apartment, spreading her arms, “This is it. Sorry, I know it isn’t much but I guess a roof over your head is better than nothing.”

Harry doesn’t even bother to look around, doesn’t compliment the comfy furniture or the cute little decorations, “It’s fine. Where’s my room?”

YN knows her smile falls when she realizes this is going exceptionally worse than she had already been dreading, which means that she leads him around the apartment, showing him the bathroom, laundry, linen closet, and then to his room as he remains completely silent.

When he goes to begin to bring his few boxes in, YN moves to pick one up to help but he stops her abruptly, voice firm and demanding,  “No. Put that down.”

YN’s eyebrows shoot into her hairline, “Sorry!” She apologizes for the millionth time in less than thirty minutes, “I was just trying to be helpful.”

Harry snarls his lip in the slightest,  “Am I the alpha or are you?”

YN’s swallows harshly, voice small, “You are.”

“Right. I am the alpha, I will move the heavy boxes, I will unpack. It is my job, not yours,” Harry tells her as he brushes past her to deposit the box into his room before coming out for the next one without anything else to say.

YN should probably stand her ground, set those firm boundaries but she doesn’t, instead she hides out in her room with her cat, Beatrice, (who was also hiding from the unknown visitor) and does not plan to come out until tomorrow morning or until he’s asleep.

But no, when it’s nearly ten at night, YN finally gathers enough courage to knock on his bedroom door to set the house rules, the boundaries because she couldn’t make Harry like her but they could at least be civil.

Or so she thought.

Harry answered the door after a minute, his shirt was off and he was just in a pair of joggers, there was stuff all over his room that he was obviously in the midst of organizing but it also looked worse before everything fit perfectly into place.

“What?” He asks impatiently, like he has a timeframe and YN is disrupting something major.

YN’s mind goes completely blank for a moment because for the first time since he came in, probably because it was night time and his morning scent neutralizers had worn off but she can smell his natural scent for the first time.

It was stronger because he didn’t have anything blocking his glands, his chest was heavily tattooed, and unfairly defined, looking as if he never spent a minute outside of the gym with muscles cut in places YN didn’t even know muscle existed.

His scent was…unlike anything that she had ever smelled in her life.

It was rich, deep, and dark.

It made her dizzy, sleepy, like she could fall into a trance of getting lost in it.

Thick, warm waves of it seemed to short-circuit her mind and make it hard for her to even remember what her purpose was of standing in front of him.

She had never reacted so strongly to scent in her life, never even noticed most of the time what others smelled like but this was seeping into her veins and she couldn’t quite get enough of it as she tried to subtly breathe it in as much as possible.

“What do you want?” Harry reiterates, louder and definitely more annoyed as he crosses his arms.

YN has to blink a few times before she’s shaking her head, “Uh, I just wanted to go over like….house rules? Anything you need from me? Boundaries? How can we operate around each other since we’re going to be living together?”

Harry jaw clenches, his nostrils flared, and he looks appalled.

YN realizes then that he must be able to smell her and by his reaction, he must absolutely hate her scent which made shame and mortification run through her body, of being rejected by this alpha was absolutely confidence crushing.

YN swallows down the whine.

Harry’s eyes trace up to her once, “Here’s the house rules, stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours. I’m not looking for a friend. I’m only looking for a place to stay. Understood?”

YN’s mouth is dry, her brain is having a hard time focusing on the harshness of his words because his scent is flashing bright sparkles in her eyesight at the same time, “What about your rut? My heat?”

Harry’s eyes narrow, turning a bit predatory, dangerous for a moment before he’s replying, “I’m sure you have help. If you bring another beta or omega here, that will be fine. I will not bother you. Niall told me you do not typically associate with alphas.”

“Um, okay…That works,” YN lies because she really can’t have another omega or beta here but if she has too, maybe she can try again? Maybe if they come over while she’s not yet in her heat? She’ll have to think about that later, “Your rut?”

“I have it handled,” Harry replies defensively, stepping back and putting his hand on the doorknob, “Just give me a heads up beforehand so that I won’t be blindsided by coming home to the scent change but I will also communicate that with you.”

“Okay, that sounds good-”

The door is shut on her without her even being able to finish her sentence.

“Rude ass fucking alpha,” YN mutters under her breath as she shakes her head, when she plops on her bed, she may or may not scream into her pillow for a moment because she just got herself into a worse situation than she could imagine.

But yet it hasn’t once crossed her mind to kick him out.

Why?

She doesn’t have a clue.

++

YN does not see Harry once during the first two weeks of him living with her.

Not even a glimpse.

And YN would actually wonder if he still even lived here if she wasn’t constantly overwhelmed by his scent.

He must come out of his room once YN is asleep, she does not understand how it is so thick, cloying on every surface of her apartment.

The second you walk in, it hits you, and lets anybody who enters know that an alpha lives here, there would not even be a doubt.

YN vaguely finds herself wondering one night as she sits on her couch whether or not Harry had scent marked the apartment, claiming it as his territory.

She had heard alphas do that, especially when they live with their omega to show that their mate has an alpha who protects them and their home.

However, that’s not the case here, and YN is pretty sure that Harry doesn’t even remotely like her, let alone want to live here so why would he want to claim it?

She rules that out as a possibility, mostly, but when she wakes up in the morning and he had already left for the day, well she can’t help but notice as fucking beautiful her house smells.

YN only gets her heat every six months with the suppressant she’s on but the entire month leading up to it, she finds herself starting to get more rooted in her omega tendencies.

Harry had been living with her for fourish months by this point and nothing had changed since the beginning.

He didn’t use the living room, showered early before YN would wake up and was already gone, and stayed out of the kitchen before she would go to bed.

In the four months, the sightings had been few and far between and she realized that he meant it very literally when he said that he’ll stay out of her way if she stays out of his.

In the sparse times they’ve shared space, whether it was in the hallway or kitchen, Harry’s lip would always curl up and his nose twitched which always incited a bit of insecurity about her scent.

She had always gotten compliments on hers, how light and powdery it smelled like clean laundry spritzed with a hint of orange blossom and vanilla.

YN did not understand why it was so unappealing to the alpha but he was in for a rude awakening as the month leading up to her heat began.

Her scent got noticeably stronger, she felt the urge to scentmark more items in her apartment to claim that this was her home and safe space.

As expected, Harry didn’t say anything the day it all started to intensify.

And to be fair, he never said anything to her.

The closest thing she would get was a low grunt of greeting but despite that, she felt safe with him in her home, and never had any worry that she was in danger.

The alpha made her feel an overwhelming sense of security, in fact, that she had never felt with any beta or omega.

It wasn’t necessary that he was mean to her or treated her poorly, he just…was there.

He didn’t bring anyone home with him, never asked if he could have someone spend the night nor has she ever smelled any visitors either.

However, things really start to change in the beginning of October, the month before her heat would crest and peak before the cycle started all over again.

The first major change she would notice was the difficulty sleeping.

Normally, she slept better than most without typically ever having to get up in the middle of the night or any tossing and turning.

When October hit, it felt near impossible for her to fall asleep and then when she was so exhausted that she did end passing out, it wouldn’t be long before she was awake again which made her always feel like she needed a nap.

++

It was late for a weekday, the clock showing that it was close to midnight, and she had to be up for work at six in the morning but her body did not seem to get the memo because after attempting to sleep since ten, it had not been successful.

YN decided to give it some time before she laid back down again.

YN grabbed a bag of pretzels from the cupboard, gave Beatrice one of the squeeze tubes of tuna-flavored goop, and cuddled up on the couch in the living room.

Of course, nothing sounded good as she flipped through the options, and decided on a romantic comedy that didn’t really interest her but it was her best option to make her sleepy, even if it was from the boredom of a corny film.

YN was about thirty-five minutes in when she realized that the movie wasn’t a helpful tool to fall asleep because she was completely interested in the plot line and she was even more awake than before trying to follow the story.

It made her jump in the slightest when the lock turns in the front door before it’s being opened roughly as Harry walks into the small entryway, shutting the door behind him, and beginning to shuck his coat without even realizing she was sitting there.

She hears him grumpily mumble, “Always leaves the fuckin’ television on.”

Which, yeah, she does forget half the time and the other half she feels like Beatrice likes it on for comfort.

Harry looked worn down, tired, and as beautiful as ever.

He had a duffle over his shoulder that most likely held his work clothes and gym outfit because YN was quite sure that after he was down at his office, he went to the gym which he was at for quite a long time.

She vaguely remembers Niall saying that he boxes occasionally for money and that he trains daily which was a pretty brutal routine of working out before work and after work with no time for relaxation in between.

After he’s lined his shoes up neatly against the wall, (YN notices that he also does the same with her shoes that she had half-haphazardly kicked off when she came home from work), he walks into the living room.

It was obvious that he was going toward the television to shut it off but he lets out the lowest growl of surprise when he spots YN tucked deeply into the corner of the couch with a blanket tucked like a burrito around her.

And YN had never heard, in real life, an alpha growl before.

Instead of being scared, she felt the sudden urge to purr, which scared the absolute shit out of her because why the fuck would she want to purr? She’d only done that when she was a pup and never in her adult life.

Why would she want to do that when this alpha was obviously on edge to the point of growling.

“What are you doing?” Harry grunts, voice sharp and annoyed, nostrils flaring as he must take in her smell.

“I couldn’t sleep,” YN replies hesitantly, eyes darting back up to the screen and then to him because his gaze was so intense and accusatory - it was her house, she could be wherever she wanted when she wanted no matter what time.

“Why?” Harry follows up, his arms crossing over his chest, and making his biceps look unfairly big.

YN grits her teeth, debating on whether she wants to give him a snarky remark to mind his business but then she remembers that she has to live with him and would rather not have them on worse terms then they already seem to be on.

“I always have difficulty sleeping the month of my pre-heat,” YN shrugs, a little embarrassed to be talking about something so intimate with someone who likely did not want to hear anything about her personal life.

“Is that normal?” Harry’s brow furrows, not seeming to like her answer to his question.

YN swipes her tongue across her front teeth nervously, “Um, not really. I…I have a lot of issues regarding my heats and that is one of many. Yeah, I see a doctor but there’s only so much they can do, I guess.”

Harry nods in understanding, doesn’t ask anymore questions or even acknowledge her again as he goes about making himself something to eat before disappearing into his room without another word to her which she was used to by this point.

YN rewinds the movie at bit, she couldn’t really focus when Harry was in the vicinity, and his smell was so fucking overwhelming as he obviously hadn’t showered after the gym and was waiting until he got home.

It wasn’t a bad smell, neither of sweat or filth.

No, it was just that his already delicious smell was stronger, darker, and just encompassing every molecule of the apartment.

It takes her a moment to refocus her attention back on the screen and remember where she had left off, vaguely hearing the shower start to run before he’s shutting the door to his bedroom a little more roughly than a normal.

The plot takes a very unexpectant twist at the end and YN didn’t realize that this rom-com had a sad ending which she really wasn’t used to in most films like this.

After working through all the turmoil and drama that kept popping up for this couple, they finally get it right, and the alpha was about to propose to the omega when he got in a car accident, and ended up passing away.

YN doesn’t not even recognize that she is sobbing like an absolute baby until Harry is standing in front of her with a twitch of irritation in his jaw and only in a pair of joggers, nothing stopping her from seeing the bare, defined muscle of his upper half.

“Why are you crying?” Harry asks as he looks down at her, arms crossed yet again.

YN wipes her face with the sleeve of her oversized hoodie, tears tracks surely making her face puffy as she sits up, “It ha-had a really sad ending I wasn’t expecting,” YN nods up towards where the credit were rolling, “Th-The alpha dies and doesn't get to pro-propose.”

“That’s got you all worked up?” Harry sighs as he moves to grab the remote, flicking off the television and motioning for her to stand up, “You need to try to go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” YN nearly whines, making tears start again.

Oh, did she mention she gets unreasonably emotional during her pre-heat?

“Try,” Harry insists and he gently grabs her wrist, pulling her to her feet, “For both of our sakes, please just try to get some rest.”

YN frowns at that, why does it matter to him?

She hates that she feels disappointed when he lets go of her.

“Okay,” YN agrees as she shuffles her feet towards her bedroom, despising that despite how unfriendly the alpha is, she finds herself wanting comfort from him which…it just doesn’t make any sense and she pushes those thoughts to the very back of her mind.

YN veers off towards the bathroom first and by the time she turns to say goodnight, Harry’s already back in his room with the door shut, and she just ends up sighing before shutting the door of the bathroom to use it before she tries to sleep again.

As she sits down, she notices a pile of fabric in the corner near the sink, and out of curiosity once she’s done, she plucks it up and holds it out.

It was the shirt that Harry had been wearing when he came home, the one he worked out in, and it was absolutely drenched in that smell that made YN weak at the knees.

Harry was meticulously clean.

He never even left behind as much as a crumb of a sandwich and so seeing a shirt of his was unusual because it had never happened before.

YN has no excuse for her behavior, doesn’t really even consciously realize that she’s doing it until she’s back in her room with his shirt tucked up into her hoodie.

She pulls it out and pathetically enough, brings it to her nose where it just smells of alpha, comfort, security, and everything she could ever imagine

It feels wrong, invasive to his privacy almost, and she has never done anything like this in her life.

There was something that outweighed all those negative feelings because she finds that as soon as she lays down and tucks the shirt around her pillow to lay her face into, her eyes instantly become droopy and in no time, she’s out like a light.

+

YN tries to push the whole shirt incident out of her mind the next day, blaming it on her pre-heat haziness, and absolutely nothing else.

Logically, she knows she should return his shirt to him, at least tossing it in his hamper but his scent lingered for days afterwards and there was a direct correlation to how much better she had been sleeping since.

When the scent was completely gone, it was like clockwork that YN began to not be able to fall asleep.

It leads her to another night on the couch, another night of Harry coming in late, and being irritated that she was still awake.

“You were fine the last few nights,” Harry notes as his greeting, no ‘hello’ or ‘how was your day’.

YN bites the corner of her lip, lowering the volume a tad on the television, “I know.”

“So why are you up right now?” Harry questions and god, are all alphas this blunt and impersonal or was it just this alpha in particular.

“Because I couldn’t sleep,” YN replies like it’s obvious.

Harry bares his teeth slightly, “Why can’t you sleep?”

“I told you, my pre-heat,” YN realizes that she’s getting a bit defensive because the real answer is much more mortifying and something she would never actually share with him.

He steps in, dropping his duffle unceremoniously, and walks closer to her.

Harry starts to speak slowly, precisely like he’s trying to get YN to understand, “I am not stupid. I understand that. I am asking you, what made you sleep the last few nights? You slept like a rock when I check-, when I walked past your room.”

YN shouldn’t react the way she does but she feels in a way that all the tension between them bubbles up.

Not to mention, it’s incredibly irritating to her how drawn her omega is to him, his scent, his presence, and she fucking hates it because he’s a dickhead.

“I don’t fuckin know, okay? Leave it alone. I’m allowed to be in my living room at whatever hour of the night I please without a fucking interregation,” YN snaps at him angrily, cursing when tears start to drip down her cheeks, and these hormones just sucked, amplifying every emotion she has ten-fold.

Harry lets out a low growl at that, just like the other night, and it doesn’t scare YN once again.

No, for some reason it makes her anger ebb just the slightest.

“Stop the attitude,” Harry replies evenly but his voice was deeper, “I was just checking in on you.”

Anyone else telling her to stop her attitude?

It would have escalated into a nasty fight.

YN instead just deflates, curling up further into her blanket, and covering her face because she just couldn’t get in control of the tears that were streaming down.

He must think she’s a lunatic.

Harry leaves her once again to go shower.

YN’s absolutely praying that he leaves a shirt rumbled on the floor again, despite how guilty that thought makes her feel.

She just wants sleep and for her hormones to even out.

YN feels a bit like a criminal when she goes to the bathroom, soon after Harry had went back out to make himself something for dinner, and there’s a massive disappointment in her stomach when the bathroom is as spotless as always.

She is craving the scent, she knows she can get another fix of it but it would definitely be in his hamper, in his room, and it’s such an invasion of privacy for her to go in there but then again, he’s frying something on the stovetop and he wouldn’t know…

YN’s never stolen in her life, not even gum or nail polish when she was younger, and it’s not even really stealing because she’ll give it back as soon as the scent wears off (but that’s not really true because she hasn’t returned his other shirt and has no intention of it).

She’s already opened his door, quickly scoping out the space, and realizing that his bedroom was the absolute fucking motherload of everything she could ever dream of.

If she thought their whole apartment smelled like him, his bedroom was if you bottled it in a jar, it was thicker, more cloying than ever, and she noticed a purring in her chest before she realized she was doing it and stopped.

If she was completely insane, she would try to grab as much as possible, until her arms are overflowing and she can’t carry out anything else without it falling.

But she’s not that far off the deep end that she did that, she felt creepy enough as she tiptoed over to his laundry hamper and snatched the shirt that was lying on top, the one that Harry had walked in the apartment wearing early.

YN wishes she could loiter a bit longer but that meant a higher chance that she was going to get caught.

She is surprisingly successful as she sneaks back into her room, proud that she now has two shirts to add to her nest.

YN always had a nest, it provided her comfort and security but she absolutely loved that she could intertwine the fabric together with her soft blankets.

This meant she was guaranteed a few more good night sleeps.

++

YN was running incredibly behind for work the next.

She had slept so well that she must have turned off her alarm instead of snoozing iit.

Because when she finally cracks her eyes open, the sun is breaking through her blinds, and her body knows that it is much later than six in the morning.

Her phone confirms that when she clicks on the screen she sees that it is seven-thirty-five.

Any other day, it really wouldn’t be that big of a deal because besides meetings she could make her own schedule.

Of course, of course, she sleeps on the day of an important presentation that she was the head presenter on.

It started at nine which didn’t give her much wiggle room because the commute takes a decent amount of time and that’s if there’s no hectic traffic.

“Shit, shit, shit,”  YN chants to herself when rolls out of bed, glaring judgmentally at Beatrice, and muttering, “You wake me up every other morning for breakfast, but not today, of all days?”

Beatrice blinks slowly at her before she lifts her paw pointedly and nibbles on it.

There’s no time for a shower or the makeup she wanted to do.

The only luck that was on her side was that she laid her outfit out last night after being incredibly indecisive about what she wanted to wear in front of the board of higher ups.

She had tugged her hair up into a loose ponytail that actually passed for the messy updo style, and put on her best push-up bra right after.

YN figured that while she was tugging on her trousers that she could go out to feed Beatrice,  the button was being finicky as it always tending to be so she was looking down as she begin down the hall, and nearly fell backwards when she runs into something hard, warm, and delicious smelling.

Harry’s big hands reach out and wrap around her bare arms, keeping her upright as she yelps in surprise, pants going unbuttoned for a moment as she grips Harry’s forearms for stability and looks at him with wide eyes.

His nostrils are flaring viciously, an irritated growling rumbling through his chest, and he keeps his eyes on her the full time.

They never once darted down to her chest,  that not only was just covered by her bra but was also sheer enough that her nipples were completely visible through the nude fabric.

YN is confused by her own desire to just curl into his chest and feel his shirtless chest against her barely clothed one, and what the fuck.

“Wha-“ YN stammers in confusion, why is he home?

“Why aren’t you at work?” Harry asks pointedly, his jaw was clenched tightly enough that it must be aching with soreness.

“I-I overslept,” She replies shakily, his hands still gripping her arms, fingertips pressing in, “I need to feed Beatrice.”

“No, what you need to do is get yourself dressed. Do you walk around half-naked with every alpha you know? S’indecent,” He’s scolding her like a child as he finally steps back.

YN has been so nice up until this point, despite how wonky her hormones have been.

She’s typically never a nasty person.

She rarely ever gets angry either.

However, today was the wrong day to fuck with her.

“Fuck you,” YN snaps back out of her stupor, much to Harry’s surprise, “I told I was late and I didn’t think you’d be home because you’re always at work by now. I’m sorry I’ve offended you with my body, prick.”

YN turns on her heel, storming back to her room, and snatching up her phone to check the time to see an email notification from her work.

Good morning,

We hope this email finds you well. Our office has to be unfortunately shut down for the next few days due to a major power outage after flooding in the basement of the building. We are estimating a three to four day shutdown. To show our gratitude for your patience, these days will be marked as paid time off. Stay tuned for more information and updates.

Thank you,

Evergreen Financial Accounting

YN feels a huge weight lifted off her chest because not only does she get a few days to relax but now she isn’t going to be late to her important presentation .

However, she does not feel completely relieved because the anger chewing at her over her housemate is just as heavy, even more prominent, and has triggered her inner hormonal omega.

YN fees a flash of defiance which is never a good sign as she usually never tries to rock the boat or cause a stir, prefers to fly under the radar.

No, not today.

YN storms back out of her room because she was going to feed Beatrice in her bra and unbuttoned work slacks if she wanted to.

Harry was sat on the living room couch which was an uncommon sight, a protein drink in a shaker cup, and his eyes on his phone in the opposite hand.

YN goes back into the kitchen, deciding she might as well make herself a breakfast sandwich while she’s at it after she fills Beatrice’s bowl.

She can feel his eyes on her, intense and if it could, his gaze would be burning a hole in her back with how directed and annoyed it was.

YN moves slowly, now that she’s in no rush at all, and she feels stupid for being surprised when Harry lets out a snarl loud enough to echo in the space.

YN doesn’t turn around.

It feels dangerous, she’d learned over and over again growing up to never ever antagonize an alpha, and here she was.

When she doesn’t respond to the noise, it gets louder and makes her ears ring just the slightest, he’s trying to force her attention on him.

Bossy, ill-mannered alpha.

His voice is closer when he speaks, she never even hears him get up.

“Go get some fuckin’ clothes on,” Harry orders,  his voice deeper, raspier than she had ever heard it.

But it also sent a very unpleasant spark of nervousness up her spine because the alpha in front of her was past the point of being annoyed, he was furious.

His shoulders were as broad as they could go, his teeth flashing at her, and his scent was richer, thicker, tinged with a sharp pine.

The playful, brattiness dissipates from her body as his growls stay loud, demanding, deafening.

YN doesn’t realize at first what a bad decision it is to flip her hair over her shoulder, putting her bare bond spot right on display in front of an agitated alpha.

To her utter dismay, he steps forward and their chests are nearly touching, his eyes were now completely focused on the curve of her neck.

When he reaches up, cupping the side of her neck, and curiously thumbs over the spot, YN cannot control the whine that leaves her throat.

His eyes move directly back up to hers, the noise drags him for his daze, and back into reality.

He actually does look her up and down this time, eyes lingering on her chest for a minute before he’s hissing at her once again, “Go get a fucking shirt on.”

With that, he’s turning and grabbing his duffle before storming out the front door, shutting it hard enough it vibrates but then she still hears him take the time to lock it.

Stupid fucking alpha.

+++++++++

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter 13

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 2.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ brief sexual content. This fic contains mature themes. Simon POV. Established throuple, relationship issues, fighting. Feelings of anxiety, despair. Crying. Johnny comes home

The holster is snug.

Simon pats it affectionately, swallowing roaring nausea, trying to stay limber on his feet.

He’s fine. He’s probably just at the gym, or the down the street. He’s a big boy, he can take care of himself, he's working himself up for nothing. 

He sends another text, just in case.

>Getting worried now. Where are you? 

It’s not like him, not responding. Not like him to vanish when he said he was staying in, not like him to not text with an update about where he’s going and how long he’ll be.

He knows Simon. Knows he he’ll get twisted up, get caught up in a vicious cycle of memory and fear, knows he’ll be worried.

Doesn’t he know? 

It’s not like him.

What if he’s hurt? What if someone snatched him, drugged him, loaded him into a box somewhere? What if someone is hurting him right now, and he’s scared, while all Simon is doing is pacing around in this godforsaken flat that’s too big for him to be comfortable in alone, what if he’s de-

A key clicks in the lock.

Simon is on his feet and in the hall before the door gets a chance to fully open.

He can hear his pulse, the hammer inside his skull, ticking away like a bomb, a new brand of fear: sickly and infectious, spreads from his heart, leeching into his body.

Johnny is crying.

“What’s wrong?” Simon keeps him at arm’s length for inspection, like he's looking him over in tac gear, triple checking his plates, his straps, his safety pieces. “Are you hurt? What’s happened?” Johnny doesn’t speak, raw, serrated breaths coming in and out too quickly, and Simon holds him steady, firm grip on his shoulders. “Johnny, love. Look at me.”

Control this. Contain it. Fix it. 

“I-m- I-“ The words are stilted, too thick, getting caught in Johnny’s throat, and Simon repeats himself, switching gears, shifting. His tone is stronger, unaffected. Battle tested.

“Are you hurt?” It straightens Johnny. Snaps him to attention, and he blinks, still the beautiful, sweet boy with tears in his eyes, looking up in Simon’s face, wracked with despair.

“No. No, ‘m, not hurt, Si. Not hurt.”

Not hurt. But not okay. 

He can save that for another moment. Another day if he has to. He’s okay. He came back. He’s here. 

Johnny’s eyes dive a deeper shade of blue when he cries. They become shards of stained glass, a sea blue that holds a million miles worth of passion, of feeling, of love.

Their mouths touch. Seeking, hesitant longing, desperately trying to connect, and Simon jerks away, cradling his face, holding him still.

It’s dread that fills Simon now. Dread and fear, snaking together to form a hydra that never sleeps, never dies. You cut off one head, another two emerge, and he cannot control them. Cannot tamp them down.

“What’s happened, love? What’s wrong?”

“Si, I… I made a mistake.” Simon closes his eyes.

“What did you do?” It’s not a question, it’s a demand.

Confess your sins and be forgiven. 

“I went to see her.”

It’s worse than what he was expecting. Far worse.

He splits in two.

“You what?” The words sound far less devastated than he feels. “You… what?”

“I went, I know I wasnae supposed to, but I had to see her.” Simon steps away. He releases his partner, the man he loves, and looks at him through the eyes of a stranger. “I havnae been sleepin’ I cannae eat, or focus, and I know ye’ve been havin’ an easier time-“

“Stop.” An easier time? Is he really that blind? “You think this has been easy for me?”

“N-no, I didnae mean-“

“You think I’m alright, when our girl…” He bites his tongue.

Control.

“I’m not having an easier time, Johnny.”

“I made a mistake.” He whispers to the floor, and sympathy, love, cracks Simon’s heart, just a little. He’s been having such a rough go, Simon knows. Struggling. Depressed. And nothing can fix it, not Simon or anything else in this world except… you.

He reaches, but Johnny steps out of his grasp, eyes wide.

“I… I made a mistake, Si.”

“I know, but it’s okay, we can-“

“We had sex.”

Everything changes. The floor disappears beneath his feet. His knees go weak, watery, and he steps away. A chainsaw tears through his diaphragm, blood and guts dropping to the floor.

“You what?” 

“I didnae plan to, it just… it just happened.” Simon closes his eyes. He struggles for air, a thousand pounds sat on his chest. “She was cryin’ and then we just… we lost control. I didnae even realize what was happening at first, and then she asked me to kiss her and I couldnae say no, Si. Ye know I… it just-“

“Stop.”

“She needed me, needs us, wanted to, and I-“

“STOP!” He shouts, and Johnny jerks back, eyes wide.

“Simon.” He reaches, but it’s too late. Simon is already stepping out of reach. An ocean of despair, sadness, rage tosses him in a turbulent wave, knocking him side to side, stealing his breath. Agony wails between his ears.

“Don’t touch me right now.” How could he do this? Betray you like this? When you’re vulnerable? 

He knows why. His next words are a poison barb, aimed straight at the heart of the man he loves.

“You’re weak.”

“Si.” Johnny’s voice cracks, face soaked with tears. He calls his name again and again, but Simon hears nothing, broken vibrato bouncing off his back as he turns away, locking himself in the bedroom.

“So, you want to do this. For real.” You’re so skeptical. Still. A battle never won but fought every day. You chew on your lip, hesitance heavy in your eyes. “With me.” 

“Aye, darling. With ye.” Johnny sucks a mark into your neck, hands roaming across your chest. You wriggle between them, uneasily laughing, huffing and pushing at him, still overstimulated and coming down from too many orgasms to count. They pushed you to the limit tonight, twisted you between them and bent you under their bodies, filled you at the same time. He can still feel the clench of your cunt around his cock, your warmth engulfing him, setting him aflame. “Is it so hard to believe?” 

“Yes.” Your answer is immediate, and Johnny rolls his eyes. You glance at Simon. 

He wants to rip away all your layers. Burrow between your heart and ribs. Remake you in an image of love, help you feel confident in their affection, their near obsession with you. 

“We know it will take time.” He murmurs, stroking a hand across the back of your neck when you push up onto your elbows. “We know this is a lot, and it won’t be easy, but we can make it work. If you give us a chance.” Tears line your lashes. You try to look away, but he holds you steady, refusing to let you hide.

“I’m scared.” You whisper. 

“I know.”

He thinks about calling you. What’s a phone call, in the face of such a boundary broken already? He wonders for a moment, if you’re okay, before his stomach tightens, realizing that Johnny left you there, alone.

Did you tell him to leave? Did he run home afterwards, worried? Did he hold you, make sure you’re okay, kiss you and tell you how much they love you?

He aches for violence. Wants to destroy this room, it’s walls, this place they tried to build around you.

The bed is too big now. The flat is empty. He feels the hollowness left in your wake everywhere, in the bathroom, missing your shampoo and toothbrush, the closet, lacking most of your clothes. The comforter has been replaced with a tired bedsheet and a blanket from the couch, a quarter of the pillows that are usually piled in the middle, missing.

It’s not his home. Not without you.

He eyes his phone.

He shouldn’t. 

Why is he being punished, for doing the right thing? For listening to you, when you begged them to understand this is what you needed. Why is he the one in hell, when Johnny gets to drink his fill? 

He doesn’t understand. How could he have gotten this so wrong? 

Is this what you wanted all along? For them to come, pluck you from your escape back into their arms? 

He looks at his phone again. The black screen taunts him, begs him, tells him it’s alright. It will be okay if he does it. If he breaks.

What kind of man is he, if he can’t respect what you need? 

Johnny knocks on the door.

“Ye cannae shut me out.” It’s reminiscent of not too long ago, when Simon was on the other side of a different door, begging to see your face, dying to hear your voice.

“Johnny.” He croaks. His own cheeks are wet now, tears dripping down his jaw to his shirt.

“Simon, please.”

“I can’t see you right now.”

“I cannae let ye-“

“If you love me,” He raises his voice, not quite a shout, but something awful instead, a low pitch of anger. “You’ll leave me alone.” He can’t even look at him right now, can’t understand why he did this. Why he acted so callously, so selfishly. Simon hates himself, for thinking it, for allowing this anger to fester but he can’t feel anything else when he thinks about his sweet boy on the other side of that door, crying out for him. He’s so angry. He reaches for his phone. The impulse is too strong, the pain and want and the fear of not knowing if you’re okay eating away at him until he’s tapping your contact open.

The phone rings three times. On the fourth, the line clicks open, and he holds his breath.

“Simon?” You’re crying. It’s in your voice, thick with it, trembling across the connection with an intensity that could crack the earth.

“Darling.”

“It’s not ideal-“ 

“Not ideal? It’s… it’s about to be Christmas.” You take a ragged breath, and Simon’s heart aches. “You just got home.” 

“Ah know love, but we cannae control when we’re needed. Ye know this.” 

“We’ll try to be home before Christmas.” He has to stem this bleeding somehow, patch this wound. He wants to take you in his arms, bury his face in your hair and promise you a million things he knows he can’t. 

“It’s fine.” It’s not. And neither are you. But you’re shoving it away, pushing it down where it will stay buried, building and building inside you like a storm, a wild thing that will drive you to the brink. 

“Darling.” He tries to grab you, hold onto you, make you stay near him, where he can hold you, where he can try to fix it. 

It’s not fair. None of it is. And never will be. Not for you. 

“I’m fine.” 

“We don’t want to be away from you, you know that.” You focus on the dishwasher, but your hands tremble, small tremors that signify an earthquake on the horizon. 

“I know. It’s fine.” 

“Darling.” You ignore him, focusing on the silverware draw, tugging on the handle. “Darling, please.” 

Johnny flinches when it crashes to the floor. There’s agony in your face, pain and disappointment, and he hates himself for it, hates this job, hates this life they brought you into. 

You break with a sob. 

“Fuck! Fff-fuck. I’m so-sorry.” You try to turn away, to run, but he meets you, pulling you into his chest, reaching for the back of your neck with a steady hand. You’re crying so hard he’s worried you can’t breathe. 

“It’s alright. You’re alright. We’re here.” For now. We’re here for now. He can’t give you much more, even though he’d give you both the world. You and Johnny, tucked away in secret, forever his. To hold. To love. “It’s okay, darling.” You cry and cry, sobs shaking your shoulders. 

It’s not going to end on its own. And why should it? They’re the ones who do this to you. They are the ones who have to fix it. 

Control it. 

“Bedroom lights.” He directs Johnny with a glance. 

“Rog.”

“The mess.” You whimper, and he shakes his head, still holding you firmly.

“We’ll clean it up later, darling. Let’s take care of you first.”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I’m calling.” He’s spiraling. Unmoored. Uncontrolled.

“It’s… it’s okay.” You stifle a sob, and he wants to rip his hair from his roots.

“Are you okay? That’s all…” He pulls away from the phone to take a short breath, trying to breathe through his nose. “That’s all I needed to know, if you’re okay.”

“I’m…” You go quiet, and he doesn’t push. Doesn’t want to. He goes at your pace, letting you control everything now, just as he has been for this last month. “I’m not okay.”

His heart freezes in his chest.

“Did you call your therapist?”

“No.” You cry, and he pinches his brow.

“What do you need?” The pattern on the carpet is a dizzying spiral, swirls of brown and tan spinning around him, drawing him down until he’s sitting with his back against the bed. When you don’t speak, he tries, just a little, to pull it from you. “Tell me darling.”

Y-you. I need… you.”

[x0xomady]

the after party

pt. 2 - 🌟

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summary: 1 month after the breakup you go to a frat party with your best friend. of course it’s harry’s frat.

warnings: smut, p in v, dirty talk, kinda public sex (car), degradation, MANIPULATION! cursing, TOXIC love bombing, alcohol. 18+

song inspo: ✧˖°.

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“please don’t make me go” i groan. my best friend, y/bsf/n, is running around my room trying to find a cute dress and heels for me to wear.

“shut the hell up y/n you’re going” she rolls her eyes and continues shuffling through my closet. i sigh in defeat and lay down on my bed. maybe if i play dead…

“oh my gosh this is perfect! harry is going to lose his shit when he sees this!” she squeals and pulls out my navy blue, satin, mini dress. i had bought it for harry and i’s 2 year anniversary, but obviously we didn’t make it there.

“no. i’m not wearing that.” i roll my eyes and shake my head at my best friend. “plus im not trying to make harry jealous or upset. this isn’t about him.”

“ugh! come on y/n! you have got to move on! it’s already been a month. besides, i know you want to get laid… this could be your opportunity!” she smiles and tosses me the dress while walking back to the closet to find me some heels.

i sigh and look down at the dress on my lap. it is really pretty i have to admit it. the dress has little sequin details and is strapless.

“cmon y/n you know this is important to me! we can’t miss a party like this. especially this one.” she smiles and tosses me matching navy blue heels.

y/bsf/n is right… this is THE party. every year harry’s frat throws a big blow out party right after we get out for spring break. everyone goes and tries to get in… but usually only people that know the frat get in.

“i’m just worried. what if it’s awkward when i see him? the last time i saw harry was 3 weeks ago and we didn’t even make eye contact.”

“babe don’t worry! you guys didn’t end on bad terms there’s no reason for it to be awkward. just be yourself and talk to people.” she gives me an encouraging smile and walks to the bathroom to do her makeup so i can get dressed.

one night out couldn’t hurt…. could it?

✧˖°.

we arrived at the party at 10:30. it was the perfect time to go to a frat party. everyone was already there and drunk. seeing as this is the biggest frat on campus and the most anticipated day of the year for most guys, it was packed to the brim.

as soon as the door opens we are met with hundreds of people crammed in the large house. there’s music playing loudly and music booming throughout the room. i despise frat guys. it all seems like one big cult to me. so why did i date one for two years? good question. i have no fucking idea.

we walk through the familiar large house together. there’s bottles, bags, and trash scattered across the floor. people are dancing, making out, and drinking.

ugh kill me now.

it’s so dirty. i carefully step over broken bottles in my stiletto heels. usually for frat parties i would just wear a jean miniskirt and a cute top, but tonight was different. it was like prom for college students.

y/bsf/n has already run off to find her current boyfriend, zayn. he’s one of harry’s good friends.

ugh. harry.

the nagging in my stomach and anxiety in my mind was slowly creeping up on me. harry and i hadn’t ended on the most amazing terms but we hadn’t ended badly either.

it’s a weird situation.

harry and i have a bit of a toxic cycle we like to go through. every couple of months harry gets distracted or bored so he dumps me. then about a month later he comes crawling back begging for me to take him back because he ‘loves me’. it’s not all his fault, no matter how many times this has happened, i go back to him each time.

my eyes are eagerly scanning the room. maybe it’s in hopes of seeing the curly headed boy. maybe it’s dread of seeing him. either way i just wanted to get this long night over with so i could lay in bed depressed about the break up.

usually when i come to frat parties i would make a b-line to the couches where all the frat members and their significant others sit and drink. wouldn’t it be weird if i did that now though?

however, it’s only been 10 minutes and my feet hurt like a bitch. i need those couches.

i make my way past the dance area and bar towards the living room.

there, i see y/bsf/n and zayn talking and drinking, as well as our other friends talking, but no harry.

my eyes scan the large room quickly but i see no sign of him.

“hi petal”

my heart stops. harry.

i would recognize his deep voice anywhere. my breathing catches in my throat as i turn around to see him.

there he is… harry. after 3 weeks of no contact and trying to get over him, it all hit me like a bus again.

“hey”

“you look-” harry stops and looks down at my dress. “really fucking perfect”

blush instantly paints my cheeks as he compliments me.

fuck fuck fuck! no don’t fall for his bullshi-

“seriously… this dress- fuck.” harry smirks and carefully lets his hands rest on my hips.

“harry…”

“hm?”

“don’t.” i push his hands off my sides and take a step back from the oh so tempting man in front of me.

“don’t what?” he smiles at me innocently and steps towards me again.

no y/n. NO.

i’ve worked so hard over the last 3 weeks to forget him and move on… if i gave in all of that would go to shit and i’d be right back where i started… desperately in love with harry.

“i’ve missed you so much” harry leans down and whispers in my ear, his cheek brushing mine.

“well that’s too bad” i roll my eyes and avoid eye contact with him.

“cmon petal look at me.” harry grabs my chin gently and moves my head to look at him. reluctantly i sigh and look at harry. his piercing green eyes meet mine and it all comes back to me.

“what do you want harry?” i ask while looking into his eyes.

“you.” harry smiles and nudges my nose with his. his ring adorning fingers make their way from my chin across my face. harry holds my jaw and cheek gently.

“well that’s too bad. you had me and you fucked that up.”

“i know i did… im so sorry y/n.” harry looks into my eyes innocently and caresses my face carefully.

suddenly the room feels 10x hotter and my dress feels so constricting. i needed to get away from harry.

i step away from harry and walk out towards the large main room. people are everywhere, so it’s not hard to escape from him.

“y/n wait-”

i ignore harry and continue walking. my body carefully brushes past people as i maneuver my way through the dancing and drinking. my eyes spot the large front doors and i sigh in relief.

without hesitation i push myself through the front door and walk out onto the large lawn. the cold air instantly hits my body and i feel a huge relief run over me.

there’s still a line of people trying to get into the dumb frat party. i pass them and head down the street. the street is almost empty… it has to be at least 12:00 right now so it’s not surprising the streets are clear.

my feet mindlessly make their way down the sidewalk towards the familiar park. seeing the big empty park ahead of me brings a smile to my face.

i walk into the park and make my way over towards one of the benches. it’s as beautiful as i remember it. the large trees cover the sky making it look dark and eerie. the only light being the small lampposts that line the path.

my body finally relaxes when i sink back against the chair and let out a breath i didn’t even realize i was holding in.

however, that peace is ruined when i hear the familiar roar of a certain someone’s car.

“y/n! what the hell?!” the car shuts off and i hear the crunching of footsteps make their way towards me.

i don’t look up at him and instead continue looking down at the ground. harry steps in front of me and squats down so he’s in my eye line.

“why’d you run away petal?” he asks while looking at me from where he’s squatting.

“it was hot in there.” i roll my eyes and lean back against the bench. “did you follow me? that’s creepy”

“i didn’t follow you.” harry shakes his head with a smirk. “i just knew you would be here. you would come to this damn park after every argument we had.”

fuck. he looks so beautiful like this.

the moonlight was peaking through the tops of the trees carefully painting his face. harry stands up from where he was sitting and plops onto the bench next to me.

“why did you come after me? you should’ve stayed at your party.”

“because i love you.”

there it is.

i don’t respond at first. my eyes continuing to make their way throughout the park, in a desperate search for escaping this.

i wanted nothing more than to scream and yell at harry. i wanted to hurt him because he hurt me, but the fact was i couldn’t. i could never yell at harry… i love him just as much as he loves me, probably even more.

“don’t say that.” i glare at harry and then look away quickly.

“why not? you love me too. we both know it’s true.”

yeah. he’s right. it fucking pains me to say… but harry is right.

i loved harry more than anything and anyone on the planet. him simply existing made me more madly in love with him every single day.

“cmon petal… come back to me. you know i love you.” harry whispers into my ear and kisses my cheek.

goosebumps fill my skin as his soft lips trace my cheek. harry’s warm breath danced across my skin making my heart flutter.

“harry stop it. you can’t do this.” i put my hand on his cheek and push him away from my face gently. “you always do this! you break up with me and then come back trying to hook up a few weeks later."

harry pushes out his bottom lip playfully and puts his hand on my waist.

“please baby? i miss you so much. i was so stupid i'm sorry.” he whispers and wraps his arm around my waist. the internal conflict starts swirling through my brain.

on one hand i know that harry just wants to fuck and then date for a few months before dumping me. however, on the other hand, i want nothing more than to jump on him and forget we ever had a fight in the first place.

harry can sense my temptation because he grabs my hips and pulls me towards him so i’m sitting comfortably on his lap.

“see? we can have our own little after party.” harry smirks kisses me right below the jaw.

i know i should shove him away and run, but i REALLY don’t want to.

harry puts one hand on hip and the other holds my jaw tightly. the cool of his rings against my flushed skin makes shivers run down my spine. he pulls me against him more so our lips aren’t more than few centimeters apart.

fuck it

i grab harry’s face and pull him to me. the second our lips touch my entire body erupts and i feel the love i have for harry rush back to me. i feel harry’s cocky smirk against my lips last only for a second before he’s pushing his tongue into my mouth.

the kiss is intense, three weeks of pent up anger and frustration sits in my stomach as i run my hands through his curls.

harry holds my jaw tightly while kissing me thoroughly. i tug lightly on harry’s curls resulting in him releasing a whimper.

i move my hips forwards so i’m sitting right over harry’s prominent bulge. harry lets out a breathy moan and kisses my neck.

“h-harry” i sigh and wrap my arms around his neck.

“hm?” he doesn’t bother pulling away from my neck, instead biting my shoulder softly. i moan and press my core against harry in a desperate search for release. harry smirks and kisses my collarbone. “so fucking needy petal. thought you hated me?”

i roll my eye my eyes and lean into harry’s kisses. as much as i hate to admit it, it feels so fucking good to have him kiss me like this.

“just shut up and take me to your car curly."

“as you wish.” harry grins and scoops me up. my legs are wrapped around his hips for stability.

harry quickly walks down the path and towards his truck. we get situated in the backseat of his car quickly. im laying on my back on the seat as harry slams the door and crawls over my body.

in no time harry’s pants are off and my dress is hiked up to my waist with the top of it pulled down to expose my tits.

harry grabs my thighs pushing them open and looks down with a strained facial expression. he moves his head down towards the spot between my legs but i stop him.

“don’t harry. just fuck me already i need it.” i whine and wrap my legs around his hips.

harry chuckles and pulls my panties down my legs. “see? so fucking needy. such a pretty little slut hm? i missed you.” he kisses my neck hiking my hips up to rest on his thighs.

i moan softly as harry presses the head of his cock against my folds. harry, being harry, has to tease me before he can do anything. “so fucking wet. s’ pathetic baby. i haven’t even touched you properly yet and your little panties are soaked to the core."

harry runs his tip from the bottom of my slit to my throbbing clit. i whine and buck my hips up to get some sort of relief from harry. he grabs my hips and holds them down.

“shh need to make sure your little pussy can take me baby. i haven’t filled you up in so long. might not be able to fit it all.” harry smirks and nudges the tip of his cock in my sopping hole.

“stop it h! just hurry up and fuck me!” i whine and try pressing my hips up but harry’s strong hands are holding them down against the leather seats of his car. harry continues teasing me by slowly inching his cock in.

“yeah? okay baby i’ll stop teasing you.” harry punctuates the end of his sentence by bucking his hips up into me pushing his cock to the hilt. i groan and grab harry’s hair tightly as he fucks up into me.

harry is quickly in a rhythm of fucking me hard. the sounds of his hips hitting mine and breathy moans from the both of us are the only thing heard in the tiny confines of the car.

“harry need more please.” i groan and wrap my arms around harry's neck as he fucks me harder.

“do you have any idea how much i missed you? your little pussy does fucking wonders on me i swear- ” he lets out a muffled groan while he pushes his face into the crook of my neck.

i try to ignore it… but i can’t. the flutter in my heart grows as i look at harry who’s busy keeping the pace of his hips steady. he has no idea how much i love him.

“how are you this damn tight? it’s like i’m fucking you for the first time all over again. gonna have to loosen up this sweet thing all over again.” harry moans while increasing the speed of his hips. his pelvic bone hits my clit perfectly and i buck my hips up in desperate search for stimulation.

“yeah? my baby needs me to play with her little button, hm?” harry smirks and snakes his hand from my jaw to rub tight circles on my clit.

the stimulation from harry’s thick cock fucking me deeply and his rough fingers playing with my sensitive spot, i feel my orgasm approach quickly.

“harry!” i gasp as he deepens his thrusts pushing all the way to the hilt.

“cmon petal cum for me. i can feel you clenching. milk my cock.” he squeezes my hips and continues thrusting into my warmth relentlessly.

i’m too fucked out to even respond. i just sit there and let harry continue the sweet assault on my pussy.

“oh that’s it cum for me baby.” harry groans as i cum around his cock. he looks down at our adjoined body and watches the milky ring of my cum sit at the base of his cock.

harry thrusts a few more times before pulling out and releasing his cum across my chest.

we both lay there and harry grabs his shirt wiping up the mess between my thighs and on my carefully. i sigh and sit up slowly pulling my dress up to cover my top again. the guilt of what i just did slowly starts creeping up on me.

“harry-"

“don’t baby just let me love you okay? i’m sorry for everything. i love you.” harry kisses my cheek and fixes his pants.

i pause for a moment thinking about everything that just happened but reluctantly i nod. “okay… i love you too."

the cycle always repeats itself and i let it

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we love some toxic harry

-xoxo ⋆⭒˚.⋆

[forest-hashira]

this absolutely would not leave me alone, in reference to this post. @fushigurro thank u for supporting/enabling me. divider by cafekitsune. this is omegaverse, mentions of heat cycles/sex but nothing explicit. minors dni.

it had been a few days since your synced heat with satoru had ended, and though it hadn't actually lasted longer than normal, it had felt like it, neither of you able to get the kind of relief you really needed. you'd given yourselves a day to sober up and recover, and then you'd had a much dreaded conversation.

you'd been everything to each other since you'd gotten together straight out of school. in all that time, you'd never needed anyone else for anything, even able to get each other through your heats with a little help from some toys. but this had been a brutal wake up call, a reminder that there were some things you'd never be able to do for each other, no matter how hard you tried.

it was unsettling to realize, though, and the following realization that you would have to find someone else to trust in your most vulnerable moments was downright scary. a new partner couldn't be just anyone, especially not if they were going to help both of you when you needed it. in fact, there was only one person either of you could imagine trusting with that.

and so you set up a coffee date.

"you feelin' okay, baby?" satoru's gentle voice pulled you from your mental spiral, and you offered him a weak smile.

"what makes you ask?" you set your drink down on the table, unable to stomach anything because of your anxiety.

"your leg has been bouncing nonstop since we sat down." he peered at you over the tops of his sunglasses, leaning in to rest his forehead against your temple. "it's all gonna be fine, you know that, right?"

"unless he hates us for asking this of him and decides he never wants to speak to us again." you weren't expecting the laugh your words drew from him, and you pinched his side harshly. "don't laugh at me! it's not impossible..."

you could practically feel him roll his eyes at you. "he's not gonna hate us," he soothed, the faintest hint of a purr rumbling beneath his words, easing some of the tension in your shoulders. "i doubt he'll say no, either. he's had a thing for you for years."

"he has not!" you turned and looked up at him, wide-eyed.

satoru cocked his head slightly, seeming genuinely surprised. "he has too! he told me once when we were drunk, before we all graduated and you and i got together. you didn't know?"

"of course i didn't know! he never said anything to me. i knew he was in love with you, though."

it was satoru's turn to look shocked. "you're lying to me."

"i am not! we all saw the way he looked at you. it was obvious."

your boyfriend seemed to pale at your words, as impossible as it was. "for how long?"

"from the very first day i met you guys. he still looks at you like that, y'know."

"who looks at satoru like what?"

suguru's voice startled both of you, and you looked up at him with burning faces. the alpha's brows pinched with concern as he sat across the table from the two of you. satoru pushed a black coffee towards him, but it went untouched as he spoke again.

"are you guys okay? you said you needed to ask me something important. is something wrong?"

you and satoru exchanged a look, your omega offering you an encouraging nod.

"sort of," you sighed after a moment. "we, uh. well. our heats synced last week, and it sucked. like it was really bad."

suguru nodded, worry still painted across his features. "even with each other and..." he trailed off, glancing around as if remembering you were in a public place, and that it was probably not a great idea to talk openly about sex toys.

"yeah, even with that," you confirmed. "it was really, really miserable, and we really don't want to be caught off guard if our cycles ever sync like that again. which is why we asked you here."

now he really looked confused. "i don't think i understand."

"we need an alpha," satoru replied, his blunt nature a true blessing in that moment. "and you're the only one we trust to help us – to take care of us."

there was a beat of silence, then another. your heart began to pound, and you felt a bit sick all of a sudden. because this was it, wasn't it? your best friend outside of your partner was about to tell you both that you were disgusting simply for asking, and that he never wanted to hear from you ever again. he was—

"oh, uh... really?" there was no mistaking the flustered look on your friend's face, and that surprised you; he was usually so confident. "yeah, of course. i'm honored you trust me like that. anything you need, just let me know. i'll be there for you."

the relief that washed over you was so intense it nearly made you dizzy, and you were certain you would've collapsed if you weren't already sitting down. "you don't wanna take some time to think about it?"

he shook his head. "don't need to. if it means helping you guys, the answer's always going to be yes."

"whipped for us already, huh?" satoru teased, attempting to maintain his composure despite his face being the prettiest shade of pink.

the smile that tugged at suguru's lips was affectionate, his gaze warm as he took in the two of you across from him. "yeah," he agreed softly. "something like that."

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Being Self-Destructive

Requested: Heeeeyyyyy can I request an angst but hurt/comfort request with a main lot from boys where r is like a younger sibling to them but struggles with self-worth and is self-destructive and it worries them? - anon

A/N: Thank you for requesting my love! I really hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated my loves!!!! 💜💜💜

Butcher wants to smack some sense into you. Literally. But he can't because that would be wrong and probably drive you away even more. Instead, he yells and screams and badgers the same old subjects because you don't change, you don't listen. You fight back. The screaming matches you two get into are legendary. You fight anywhere and everywhere. The drinking, the drugs, the hurting yourself and other people, it was all unacceptable. He saw you as a younger sibling, someone to protect. He wasn't going to be around forever and you needed to get your shit together before then. He had to know you'd be okay without him. This was your life. If you wanted to set it on fire, you had every right to. Butcher was a hypocrite and you both knew it.

Hughie worries about you constantly. Every time you miss a meeting or a mission, every time you disappear for days on end, it fills him with anxiety and dread. There's nothing he can do to stop you, you're an adult. And yet, he goes through every scenario possible, every worst case scenario. Everyone tells him to give up on you. You're trouble. But he can't help but feel responsible for you the way an older brother would. When you show up at his place in the middle of the night he drops everything. You're so unhappy, it hurts him to see. Drunk or high or just messed up, he always let's you in. He makes sure you're fed and safe even if it ends up hurting him in the end. He can't turn his back on you. And when you leave again, because you always do, he'll call and text and make sure you know you have someone in your corner.

Annie gives you your space at first. She thinks you need some time to deal with your shit just like everyone else. But when nothing seems to be getting better, when your tendencies become even more self-destructive, she can't sit by and watch. She hates to do this, especially when she sees you as a younger sibling, but she gives you an ultimatum: her and your friends or throwing your life and potential away. Blinded by your insecurity and shame and self-consciousness, you pick yourself. You havent spoken to her since, but she reaches out constantly. Texting and calling and showing up at your place, waiting for hours, hoping she'll run into you. You don't want to see her or any of them. If you wanted to hurt yourself then you would. You wouldn't let them control you. She doesn't regret what she's done, but she feels terrible about it. Everyone says she did the right thing.

M.M. can be cruel at times. He doesn't want you throwing your life away like this. The drinking, the drugs, hanging out with the wrong crowds, this isn't you. He takes more of a fatherly role than a brotherly one. He can't help himself. He sees the self-destruction and he wants to shake you, snap something in you until it makes sense. Until you see the value you have as a person. He's nit the only one who sees the decline, but he I'd the most vocal. Sometimes it's tough love, other times it's gentle parenting. He'll try anything and everything if it means going back to the person you were. Sure, the team needed you, but Marvin needed you more. He didn't care about the things you've done in that were done to you, it didn't matter to him. Just getting better was what he cared about. Getting better and finding your way back to yourself.

Frenchie knows exactly what you're feeling. You hate yourself and you hurt yourself and it's a vicious cycle of bandaging your wounds only to reopen them again. He tries to talk to you, to get through to you the best he can, but it's so hard to listen. You really don't believe you're worth an ounce of kindness or forgiveness. Your past haunts you. Your decisions, your experiences, what's been done to you. When you mess up, he's always there for you. He knows what it's like, he wouldn't wish it on anyone else, but especially not you. He doesn't believe in lost causes and he would never give up on you the way others have. You just need time and understanding and someone to tell you they care about you. That's all. It'll go a long way. He sees a future for you, one that is bright and happy, you just can't imagine it.

Kimiko hates that you're throwing your life away because you think you're not worth it. She tries tough love and talks to you and when that doesn't work, she gives you the silent treatment. It hurts both of you, but she can't let this happen. She can't let you drink or smoke or anything your problems away just because you think you're a bad person because of what you've done. You've all done things you aren't proud of, but you're trying to do better now. She can't help but take a sisterly role and that hurts her even more. You beg and plead for her to listen, to understand, but she can't. You're bright and funny and caring. You're a good person whose had some bad stuff happen. That doesn't make it okay to hurt yourself and everyone around you like this.

Bonus! Homelander hunts you down and talks to you. There are no threats, but you know he's angry. Furious, even. So you stay and you listen and you don't fight back. Getting into trouble, hurting yourself, that's wasn't you! You were part of The Seven, you were powerful and intelligent and, though he hated to admit it, like a little sibling to him. He wasn't going to watch you destroy everything you had ever worked for because you felt bad about yourself, because you didn't believe in yourself. It wasn't just that though. It was the things you'd done, they haunted you. The people you hurt. He didn't really care about that though. All he cared about was you. You getting better, you figuring it out, you going back to the person you were.

[brytning]

I make these comics as much to remind myself what I'm learning as I do to share them with you all. I finally took action to get help with my anxiety when I realized it was preventing me from living my life. I kept cancelling plans or avoiding things because I felt anxious---and avoiding them made the anxiety go away! (At least until the next time.) However, it was clear that I wasn't making choices aligned with my values, and I wanted to change that. Facing your fears a little at a time is often used in exposure therapy. When a therapist first recommended it to me, I balked because I didn't feel brave enough to do something scary. However, the very act of doing something scary has helped me feel braver. It is still very difficult sometimes! But I know it's important work.

Transcript below:

Are you stuck in the anxiety cycle?

Something makes you feel anxious -> You decide to avoid it -> The anxiety goes away...temporarily.

The anxious/avoidant cycle can make you feel relieved in the short term, but in the long term, it can prevent you from living the life you want.

Breaking the cycle means facing your fears. (You think: "But they're scary! That's why I'm anxious!")

Pushing through fear is less uncomfortable than the dread that comes from feeling helpless in the face of anxiety.

Start small. What do you need to help you start breaking the cycle? (Make a list of things to do to feel safe and in control.)

The more times you do it, the more confidence you'll feel that you can.

"We can't escape fear. We can only transform it into a companion that accompanies us on all our exciting adventures." - Dr. Susan Jeffers, Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway.

[starheirxero]

TSAMS: a series that explores grief and death and the cycle of abuse and mental illness and self loathing and cosmic dread. a series where miscommunication, anger, and anxiety are rampant between the characters. a series where, more often than not, the horrors are always around the corner.

Also TSAMS:

[thebearer]

i LOVED your making the bed series. It's so accurate and realistic to carmens character. the fact that you wrote all three parts in three days just baffles me! what do you think their relationship would be like afterwards? regarding all aspects such as conversations, arguments, sex, etc...

ahh thank you so much!! it was so fun writing it lol I had a blast even tho it was angst.

i don’t think it would be an immediate just “completely back to normal again” type thing. i mean, this was probably the biggest fight they’ll ever have and it was hurtful. he’s apologized but his words will still linger and it’s not something that can just be completely swept under the rug, but it’s also not unforgivable especially since this was carmen’s wake up call to get some help in a way. you leaving was scary but taking teddy and anchovy? terrified him.

i do think that you would forgive carmen before he forgave himself. like a few days go by, things are feeling more normal. he took off work just to be with the two of you. still on his sabbatical and really wanting to make up for it, spend time. i stand by what i said in the previous ask that he’d be just an endless cycle of anxiety, guilt, dread, self loathing.

I don’t think there’d be any arguments so to say. if there was it’s because carmen’s broken down and started talking bad about himself again, and you’re having to stop the spiral.

as far as sex… I think you’d have to initiate it (i know i said teddy was a newborn but maybe i’ll speed it a little forward where she’s at least eight or nine weeks old lol. that’s still newborn right? haha)

carmen wants to but he feels like he shouldn’t, like he doesn’t deserve it. he’s worried that you’ll think he’s just using you but he wants to but he’s not initiating. you’ll have to do that.

first time after the fight is definitely like a true, passionate, make up sex. slow and really intimate and clingy. i feel like you arrange for someone to watch teddy for the night (maybe pete and sugar since mj and maggie will not stop asking to see her and anchovy again) you surprise him when he gets off work early to an empty house and make your move. he’s definitely the one who has to be reassured but once it happens, it’s kinda like the final thing that gets you back to a place of normality. like he still feels like shit, still is trying to make it up even tho he’s been forgiven, still going to therapy, but now it’s like everything is at least back to normal. one of those nights once you start, it doesn’t stop. all night type thing just slow and making it up.

i have also seen the begging for a post fight smut and i promise I will begin working on it soon lol. a full works for all of you. maybe a second more fun smut too bc I was planning on doing a baby making one anyways lol