#4 hours of sleep.. less than 4 i think actually

[noxtivagus]

good morning zz ( not morning anymore technically bcs it's 12 smth but.. i woke up like an hour ago so i can still say gm 🥺 )

[milkcrownonsonechka]

ouuugh i just had. an idea . this is going to Haunt me until i can Do it

[thekidsarentalright]

need fob to stop releasing songs at 7am bc i am. so tired 😭

[uitzinnigmp3]

.

[daz4i]

oh i need to KILL MYSELF kill myself huh

[thebibliosphere]

I'm making a concerted effort to fix my sleep cycle at the moment because I know it's going to be one of the first things the new neurologist pounces on when I eventually see her in September.

And I don't know what's different this time, but all the sleep hygiene stuff that has never worked for me in the 30 years I've been dealing with chronic insomnia is actually starting to help.

I'm falling asleep earlier and staying asleep for longer, which is huge considering I've been running at a sleep deficit for about 30 years, usually getting less than 4-5 hours of broken sleep a night.

The only thing I can think it might be is that my MCAS being more stable means I'm not experiencing adrenaline surges late at night.

See, the body dumps histamine as part of the circadian rhythm, and if you don't have mast cell instability, you're usually asleep for this and unaffected (though some people may notice allergic symptoms get worse at night). For me, it always felt like going over the drop of a rollercoaster if the rollercoaster consisted of tachycardia and shaking for a couple of hours. So, I usually choose to stay awake so I can mediate it.

And I'll confess, despite my MCAS being more stable, it never occurred to me that it might make practicing good sleep hygiene easier, so I just... kind of haven't bothered???

Anyway, imagine my surprise when the sleep app I've been using to track my sleep for the last few weeks informed me that I'm falling asleep within 20 minutes of putting my phone down and that I'm actually staying asleep for close to 6 hours at a time.

Also, my body is starting to anticipate going to bed???

It's 8:22 p.m. here, and I just caught myself thinking, "Oh boy, I can't wait to go to bed in an hour."

Absolutely wild. Like, who even am I anymore?

[southislandwren]

okay gang dont forget theres a lunar eclipse tonight starting at 4am central time. full eclipse is at 5am central time!

[kiss-inthekitchen]

favorite insomniac | spencer reid

a little warm-up exercise i just finished <3 you can't sleep, so you decide to call the only other person you know who would be awake at this hour. ~500 words

You don’t get insomnia. Usually, you fall asleep quickly and easily, and then devolve into any number of nightmares or vivid dreams or somethings that cause to you wake up feeling like you hadn’t slept at all. 

Obviously not great. But not insomnia.

Tonight, however, is not a usual night.

You roll over once again, after what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes of lying as still as possible and trying to will your body to be tired. You check the time on your phone; 3:14 AM. 

Ugh. You have to be at work in less than 6 hours, awake in less than 5. Closer to 4, if you want to actually look presentable. 

You groan, scrubbing your hands over your face and barely resisting the urge to start punching your pillows. 

And then you give up. 

There’s one insomniac you know who’s got a pretty good chance of being awake right now. You've dialed the number before you can even think about it. The line rings once, and you realize what an inappropriate, quite possibly disrespectful choice this had been. You’re about to hang up, hovering over the red button, when you hear him. 

“Hey,” he says, voice raspy. 

Oh god, oh god. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up.” 

“No,” Spencer chuckles bitterly, “You didn’t. What’s wrong?” 

“I can’t sleep?” 

His eyebrows raise halfway to his hairline. “So you called me?” 

You and Spencer are coworkers. You’re friends. You just don’t really hang out much outside of work and work-related events. Not that you haven’t wanted to, you just… don’t really know how. Or if you should. Or if it would be particularly smart. 

“I’m so sorry. I figured if anyone was liable to be awake right now, it’d be… I wasn’t thinking. I’ll let you go, I’m–” 

“Hey, it’s alright,” he says, amused. You’re the only person he ever gets the opportunity to calm down; he’s usually the most nervous person in the room. “This doesn’t usually happen to you though, does it?” 

“No,” you huff, flopping back against your pillows. “I’d ask you for tips, but whatever you’re doing clearly isn’t working.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“No, you’re not wrong.” 

You make a self-satisfied little “hmph” sound. 

“What did you call me for then?” 

Something in the timbre of his voice makes your heart speed up. “I don’t know, human connection across the ether that is 3 AM?” The sense that you’re the only two people in the universe. The sound of his voice. Not that you could say that part out loud.

“Wanna go for a drive?”

Huh? “Wh– We have work in, like, 5 hours.” 

“Oh, you haven’t been counting, have you?”

“You mean like thinking ‘if I fall asleep right now at this moment I could get 5 hours of sleep’ but then I still don’t fall asleep and I watch the minutes go by until it’s only 4 and a half hours and then I get angry at myself for being awake and then I’m somehow even more awake?” 

He chuckles, dark and rich through the phone. “The classic trap. Never count the hours.” 

“Now you tell me.” 

“Alright,” he grunts, and you hear him shuffling around, “I’m picking you up.”

“You're what?!"

"I'm picking you up," his voice lilts up, almost like a question. But not like he's asking for permission, more like he's teasing you. Like he knows your answer anyway.

"Now? You have a car?” 

“Yes, now. And yes, I have a car,” you hear jingling on the other end. “You’re gonna like it.”

[gojoidyll]

stubborn heart ch. 4

yan!capitano x wife!reader

summary | or in which capitano is told he needs a wife. and he begrudgingly agrees.

warnings | shower scene, nudity (but nothing is described), etc.

note | i have rewritten this chapter four times, and i still don't like how this turned out...

previous | next

You were gone a total of four hours, and you managed to snag a hefty amount of books from the store in town. Truthfully, you were planning on finding a job as well but figured that taking some time off from working every single day of your life would do you some good, which was how you found yourself back in your shared room, your books stacked onto your nightstand, a heavy and warm blanket on your shoulders and a book in your grasp. Your eyes devouring each word they flitted across the sentences on the page.

When you had come back, you had finally met some of the maids and butlers that worked in the mansion. They told you that Capitano wanted to speak with you alone before which was why they hadn’t been around. Which made sense. Being alone with Capitano would make anyone nervous. Especially you.

After you met the servants that worked for Capitano in his manor, they had left you to your own devices as you sought to read alone in your room.

Which was exactly what you did until night fell.

“M’lady, dinner is ready.”

“Alright! I’ll be down in a moment.”

That was another thing you had to get used to… others making food for you. It was definitely something you were never accustomed to even when you were younger.

“Please hurry down, Lord Capitano has already come home and is waiting for you.”

At the mention of his name you had slammed your book shut and tossed the covers off yourself as you rushed for the door. Swinging it open haphazardly, the maid behind it jumped a little in surprise.

“He’s here?!”

“Yes, he actually just got here-“

You hastily left your room and ran down the hall in the direction that you remember the dining room was. You weren’t a noble lady, not in the slightest. But you knew not to make a lord waiting. Father often scolded you for it. Especially since you had a tendency of getting too lost in your books when you should have been working.

“Ah, there she is,” you huffed a little as you smoothed out your dress. Your eyes scanning the room carefully.

Capitano was already sitting at his seat, your own seat was already prepared for you to his right.

Quickly trying to calm your racing heart, you carefully walked to your seat where a maid was waiting for you to pull your chair out for you.

“Capitano,” you greeted almost a bit shyly, “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

“I didn’t wait long.”

He turned to look at you, and you couldn’t deny the way your body fidgeted underneath his gaze.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

You were surprised momentarily at his question. You wondered if he was asking because he was interested, but you quickly threw that thought out the window. He was probably just making small talk…

“Yes, I did. Though, I haven’t found a job yet.”

Capitano hmmed at the news, “was the cold alright?”

“I dressed warmly enough,” you answered.

Before he could ask anything else, you were thankful that the food started to come out from the kitchen, A true blessing in disguise as you fearfully came to realize that you didn’t know how to properly talk to the man. And I am supposed to sleep next to him tonight too?!

You mentally despaired over the thought. You desperately hoped you didn’t sleep walk or talk, because you didn’t want him to think any less of you than he already does.

“Thank you for the food!”

But you guessed that would be a problem for later tonight.

…

When dinner finally concluded and you found yourself walking next to Capitano, you couldn’t help but to give him a few side glances here and there. Throughout all of dinner you couldn’t help but to stress over sleeping next to the man, and now it was quickly becoming a reality!

Coming to your shared room, Capitano opened the door for you, and when you walked in, he walked past you and towards the bathroom that was on the far side.

“Did you shower today?”

You shook your head, “no, not yet.”

“Then join me.”

You paused and let his words sink in for a moment, “hah?”

Capitano looked to you, “you will not be having a traditional honeymoon and I hear that a substitute for such a thing will be spending time together.”

You started to fidget with your fingers, “well, I mean… that’s true, but its just as you said before. Don’t expect anything.”

Capitano fully turned to you then, “but is it not expected that a husband and wife spend time together?”

He got you there, and he was right on some level. Not to mention you wanted to be a little selfish.

This wasn’t a conventional wedding. You doubted you would be getting your own happy ending anytime soon, so why not take what he offers from time to time. He’s says not to expect anything, so what was wrong with taking what he does offer? Besides, what was the harm with bathing with a man?

Your confidence was quick to whither, however the moment you entered the bathroom with him. The shower already running hot as Capitano began to undress. You never saw a man naked before. Not once. And your naivety was beginning to show.

Oh wow, you thought as you got to see his bare chest. You thought his face was a work of art, but his upper body was something else.

“Get undressed,” he ordered, his tone a bit harsh as he started to unbuckle his pants.

Shakingly, you started to undo your buttons.

Despite being married to the man now, this whole situation made you unbearably nervous. Your original thoughts of just takin what he offered soon dwindling into ash. And just as you slipped out of your dress and undergarments and even undid your hair, you found yourself closing your eyes tight the moment you heard Capitano’s pants fall and pool around his feet.

You felt embarrassment course through your veins when you didn’t hear him say anything, but luckily you didn’t have to dwell on it when you felt his hand encase itself around your arm and pull you along and into the shower.

The warm water hit you immediately, making you relax momentarily.

“Is this not comforting to you?”

His voice sent shivers down your spine despite the hot water that soaked you. You could tell he was behind you, his chest barely touching your back.

“I- I am still getting used to being married, I’m afraid…”

“We do not have to consummate this marriage yet. Though, in order for this marriage to be be seen as legitimate, we will have to be intimate with one another eventually. However, I will not force you into such arrangements until you are… used to being married.”

“Is showering together a part of me getting used to it,” you asked.

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is our honeymoon. But it is also a way for you to get used to me. Mainly because it is obvious you haven’t seen a naked man before.”

You felt your face heat up instantly, and it wasn’t because of the hot water.

“Look at me when I talk to you.”

He turned you around easily, the slip of the water not helping you in the slightest as you found yourself looking up at the harbinger. And as you looked up at his face, you were awestruck with how handsome he was. Archons truly have their favorites when blessing people with good looks.

“Still not looking at all of me, but that is alright. I don’t want you fainting again.”

His words had you blushing as he leant down to you. The action catching you off guard when he placed his lips over yours.

He was kissing you again.

“I heard it was custom to kiss on your honeymoon as well, among other things, but a kiss and shower shall do good for replacements instead,” he said against your lips before deepening the kiss.

It was the longest kiss you had with him so far. You didn’t know where to put your hands, or how to move your head, so you let him do all the work while also relaxing in the hot water that cascaded over you both as you closed your eyes.

This wasn’t a bad honeymoon.

But of course, what he gives is taken away all too soon as you find yourself preparing for bed. Your nightgown already thrown over you as you are already sitting in the bed and are waiting for him.

He gave you kiss to commemorate your wedding, and a kiss and a shower together for your honeymoon.

It was more than you expected, but you were thankful.

“I’ll be gone early in the morning.”

Capitano said as he exited the bathroom, “we will not see each other for next coming of weeks.”

“Is it a mission,” you asked.

“...Yes. While I am gone, I expect you to be loyal and do not worry about a job for now.”

It kind of hurt to know that he thinks you will cheat on him, but it was understandable. He knows nothing of you. Only that you embarrass yourself easily and come from the Hearth. But the same could be said for him. What if he cheats?

As he got into bed beside you, you found that you couldn’t voice your concerns. He still scared you after all.

“Goodnight… wife.”

The single title surprised you as did other things, but you ignored the light thumping of your heart as much as possible, “goodnight husband.”

You hoped that whatever the future had in store for you would be good.

taglist

@nas-ha @simp-simp-no-mi @emmathecouchpotato4583 @sendria @riotakire @littlekohai77 @lvtuss @kreishin @floffytofu @nastylilcvnt @mikoslightnovels @feral-childs-word @barbatoss-bitch @venicecherryblossom @squirrelboxer @temperamentupgrade @naviabestgiirl @avalordream @immahuman @xavlyzn @greensunflowerjuna

some say "no blogs found" when I try to add them </3

[noxtivagus]

I'M SO SLEEPY HFLKDJA

[readychilledwine]

A Helping Hand

Rhysand Week Day 4 : Lord of Night

Summary - High Lord, Husband, father. Rhysand's plate is just far too full, leading the Inner Circle to take over some duties.

Warnings - workaholic Rhysand, discussions of classism, new dad Rhys, platonic bond, loose editing so forgive me if I fix things later

A/N - I am so sorry this is late! I think someone *cough baby daddy cough* accidently deleted it when he did a run through for me. But anyways, happy late day 4 and day 5 of @officialrhysandweek! It'll be a double post day 💕

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

“Please just let me handle this for you,” you were firm in the request, hand still on the request of approval to renovate the Opera house in the Rainbow. “We both know this project is completely unneeded. There is no reason for you to waste your time penning the letter.”

Rhysand stared at where your hand met the paper. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, “I-”

“No. It's time for us to have a serious discussion.” You took the paper from him and then held his hands. “Rhysand, you have spread yourself far too thin. You are not sleeping well with a newborn, you are helping Feyre as she's healing, you are recovering from trauma. Let me help you by organizing the report by who should actually be handling them.”

Rhys seemed to consider your words before nodding, “I want final-”

“Rhysand, we have known each other for 500 years. Do you truly not trust me enough to make a decision based on your preferences?”

He tugged that power exchange bond between the two of you, silently asking for a bit of your energy. You offered it to him without hesitation, without even so much as thinking about your well-being over his. “I do not want the fae in this court knowing I'm not the one running the court.” You couldn't help but sigh and roll your eyes and stare at him, blinking as if to say, “Duh.” His lips twitched into a smile at you, “What are you going to do, sweetheart? Forge my signat..” His eyes went wide as he realized that was exactly what you had planned. “I expect brief rundowns first.”

“And you will have them. Now go take a nap.”

The Inner Circle gathered in the new father's office claiming reports left and right. Cassian took anything involving Illyria and the training camps. Azriel took anything involving newcomers to the City of Starlight, border related issues, and requests for visiting. Mor and Amren split Hewn City. Dividing those reports among issues relating to rumors of uprisings or requests for help and sanctuary from tortured females. It left you with things regarding the inner workings of Velaris. You were curled in your own office, writing the rejection letter for the Opera House Project. The Opera House had been a gift to Velaris after Rhysand's return home. It was barely more than a few years old and every single feature had been planned to perfection by you and Rhysand as a way to heal the odd bind that tied you two together. The wealthy fae of Velaris were asking to redo the seating. Specifically, they wanted the seats to be made larger. 

You knew this wasn't for comfort. You had fallen in love with studying the patterns of consumerism throughout Prythian history. You knew this project was aimed at accessibility. Less sears meant higher prices for shows. Higher prices meant exclusion of the middle and lower classes. Exclusion from the arts was dangerous, though. Something you, Rhysand, and Feyre stood firmly against. 

Hours seemed to pass as you finished one thing and moved to the next, realizing how far behind Rhysand had gotten. He was hardly sleeping, rotating nights with Feyre, or just forcing her to sleep while he handled nights with a newborn alone. He was being the father he never had. One who earned the title of Dad, and you knew the last thing he'd want was the fae he cared so much for to suffer because of it. 

The sunset when Cassian arrived, his work completed. “Rhys has been given the gist of everything. I am to only have to send one thing to the camp leaders,” Cassian slid a letter, one penned by himself over to you. “Rhysie is having them start to direct all issues to me first. Using your whole chain of command idea.” 

Silence. 

Cassian's words were met with silence as you swallowed hard, holding in tears of pride. “He's delegating?!”

The commander nodded, scarred lips twitching to smirk. “He is.”

You'd never faked his signature so fast, quill flying across the parchments, “This is good.”

Azriel was next with Nuala and Cerridwen in tow, “City guard is to report issues to the twins from now on,” he leaned into his chair. “If they deem it serious enough, they will handle it unless I need to get involved.”

“And if you can't handle it,” you questioned as a joke. 

Azriel scoffed before schooling his reaction to your jab, “Then, and only then, is Rhys to get involved. My part of his reports are done and sent. I didn't think anyone would have issues with me answering security related issues.” 

They'd be a fool to, is what you wanted to reply with. Azriel was not the type of male to fuck with unless you had a death wish. He was petty at times and loved to plot. 

Mor came next, throwing herself dramatically into the chair. “I hate how your Office is a dry zone,” she groaned. “I'll be visiting daddy dearest.” 

You gagged at that and the two of you launched into a gossip session. Turns out, her father had taken Rhysand's recent absence in Hewn City as an open invitation to run a few illegal trade rings. Rings Mor was all too happy to be putting an end to. 

“That summarizes what Amren and I will both be dealing with,” she yawned, perfect red nails flying to her lips. “I'm going to bed.”

10.

11. 

Midnight.

2am rolled around and your door opened again, a sleepy Rhysand carrying a sleeping Nyx. “Go to bed,” his tone was commanding but held an air of affection to you. “You're no better than me.”

You only maintained eye contact, smirking as you put his name on a document approving a community vegetable garden and greenhouse, “Yet here we are,” you whispered. “All your reports, acquisitions, and petitions done and handled.”

His face fell, eyes shutting as he nodded, “You all got me caught up?”

With a wave of your hand, all the stacks vanished to their proper locations where they would sit and wait to be opened by their receivers. “We did,” you stood as silently as possible and moved to him and Nyx, “Do you want me to go lay him down?”

Rhysand only responded by pulling you into a tight side hug, his face burying in your hair, “How can I repay you for this? You have no clue what this meant to Feyre and I.”

The hug was payment enough. Contact with your best friend making that power bond hum as you hugged him back, “No repayment is necessary, Rhys. We all need help sometimes.”

“But-”

You whispered again, interrupting him, “We all need help sometimes.”

Understand, gratefulness, and admiration filled his almost violet colored gaze, “How did I get blessed with Feyre as my mate and you as my carranam?”

“Good question,” you shot back. “Maybe it was so we could keep you humble.” You took Nyx slowly, moving to walk the little heir back to his nursery. “Or maybe it was to keep you from dying in your office. Goodnight, Rhysand.”

You could tell he wanted to sass you back, to have the last word. It had been so long since that side of him came out, and you were glad to see a day of rest brought some fire back to him. He seemed to settle with nodding, walking backwards as he watched you take Nyx, “This isn't over. Once I wake up refreshed tomorrow, it's on. Goodnight, Y/n.”

General Taglist:

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[moonlight-prose]

11 with Poe? 🥺 💞

𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

a/n: this prompt with poe is so soft and warm it's actually melting my heart. i'm a massive sucker for someone taking care of the person they love in such a simple way like this. it's short and more of a drabble, but i really enjoyed bringing some softness to this man. i always seem to put him in angsty situations, so he deserves this.

summary: "he was with you. the person he longed to be around. who’s smile made him smile, and who’s laugh made him laugh. rather than looking for a quick escape, he found himself hoping that the mission would take even longer."

word count: 1k+

pairing: poe dameron x reader

warnings: not explicit, soft poe, flirting, fluffiness, poe dameron being hopelessly head over heels.

Squinting against the bright light of the sun, you traversed your way through the field, trying to catch up to the group ahead. It was a simple mission. Head out to a planet, find whoever was willing to trade shitty x-wing parts for something far better, and get back before dinner. Really it was more a quick vacation than anything else—a chance to get away from the chaos that your lives had become.

Poe shifted, checking to see exactly where you both had ended up in the hour you’d been walking. It’s not that you were lost. You were simply exploring. Or at least…that’s how Poe put it. You however had been keeping track of the different paths you’d taken, making sure to mark on your map where exactly you had to backtrack to get where you needed.

He sighed for the tenth time, scrubbing a hand down his face, his brows pulling together with frustration. It was clear that getting back to base before dinner wasn’t a possibility. Which meant you would have to find a place here amidst the greenery and gorgeous landscape.

You didn’t mind the idea much. However you couldn’t necessarily say the same for Poe.

“So where exactly are we?” you asked, trying to comprehend the bits and pieces of the foreign language. Growing up in the galaxy meant you knew more than your fair share, but sometimes it was hard to learn it all.

“Who the fuck knows,” he muttered, turning to look at yet another green hill. It looked identical to the last five you passed.

“It’s getting late.”

He nodded. “Think we can make it back to the ship tonight?”

There was a possibility of that happening if you turned back now, but you could see the sun begin its descent into the horizon, the day coming quickly to a close. The planet was known for housing less than lethal life forms, which made the idea of camping outside that much more appealing. You slept in a tiny bunk back at the base. Barely enough room to stretch out your legs before you hit the wall beside you—the open space around you felt like a damn gift compared to that.

“We should find a closed off area,” you suggested, remembering the many times you were forced to sleep outside whilst on a mission.

“Lead the way.”

He traipsed along behind you, eyes stuck to your surroundings in case of danger, and you didn’t do anything to interfere. You understood he wouldn’t feel safe sleeping on an unknown planet unless he was sure nothing bad was to happen. If he was alone he wouldn’t take precautions. But that was the difference. You stood beside him, untarnished by the tragedy of war. Beautiful like the summer flowers his mother used to pick on Yavin 4.

“The map says it shouldn’t be that much father,” you said in the hopes that it would offer some reprieve from how disappointing this whole mission was.

“That’s fine,” he mumbled, catching a glimpse of how the sunset enshrouded your face, creating a glow across you that nearly punched the breath from his lungs.

If he were with anyone else on this mission he would have been irritated. Beyond that probably. He could have seen himself trying to contact Leia from where you were, asking for a transport back, but he wasn’t with anyone else. He was with you. The person he longed to be around. Who’s smile made him smile, and who’s laugh made him laugh. Rather than looking for a quick escape, he found himself hoping that the mission would take even longer.

“I’m sorry about all this.” Poe felt his heart begin to sink, matching the movement of the sun. “I know it’s taking too much time. I swear I thought I read the map right.”

His pace faltered until he found himself stopping altogether, hand reaching for your arm to turn you. “Why are you apologizing?”

You sighed. “I just…I know how irritating all of this can be.”

“Sunshine—”

“And I know you have other important things to do for the Resistance.” You turned, running a hand across your forehead. “I could have asked Finn to come with me instead. Or anyone else. But I…I like…”

Poe stepped forward so quickly his boot nearly got caught on a small hole in the ground. “You like?”

Another long breath left you, eyes shifting up to finally catch him in your gaze. “I like your company.”

He felt the start of a smirk and tried to tamp it down, but there was no use. “My company huh?”

“Don’t get cocky flyboy. You’re not the worst person to be around.”

He was way past cocky at that point. Your words filled him with a warmth that sent his heart racing so hard it nearly stopped altogether. But you looked nervous. As if the words had been bottled up for so long you felt wary about heaven bringing them out into the open. You were unprepared for his smile, for his hand to reach out and pick a piece of grass out of your hair, only to use that to drag you even closer.

“I know I’m not,” he said softly, grunting when you lightly punched him in the chest. “Just been waiting for you to say it out loud.”

“You’re such a pain in the ass—” Tugging yourself away, you were ready to throw another meaningless curse at him, but Poe had solidified his plans long before you began to admit your feelings.

His lips caught yours in a kiss, effectively silencing you and stopping your movements. You felt a rush of dizziness go up to your head, a soft sound of contentment falling from your mouth into his. And Poe felt his entire being light up. Pulling you closer, he clutched at you tightly, hands sliding to your back and breath washing across your face.

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” he breathed against your cheek, nose nudging against yours—waiting eagerly for you to smile and pulling him back into a searing kiss he longed to drown in.

[mrsstarkey1]

reunited - rafe cameron

SUMMARY: you get locked in a room with rafe after being kidnapped by singh

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

WARNINGS : sad rafe :( slight obx season 3 spoilers

A/N: check out my most recent rafe fic

It was when you were getting pushed, very harshly might you add, into a bedroom with the door getting locked behind you when you really regretted helping the pilot out of the plane. God damn empathetic instincts got you every time.

"Dinner in an hour. Better clean up," the guards voice sounded from the other side of the closed door.

"Fuck," you mumbled under your breath, leaning your head back against the wall. After taking a moment to compose yourself, you opened your eyes and scanned them around the room.

Your eyes locked onto the wardrobe in the corner of the room, 4 identical silk dresses hanging up on a bar. You walked over to it, grabbing the note on the first dress.

‘pick your size’

“Well, don’t mind if I do I guess,” you mumbled, shaking your head slightly. Your mind was all sorts of boggled right now. Why in the hell would someone kidnap you then give you a $500 dress to wear to a dinner? Nothing made sense. You knew this couldn’t be Ward, if it were him you wouldn’t even get a bed to sleep on.

You changed into your dress and made yourself look halfway decent for whatever sort of dinner you were about to be met with.

About an hour later, just as promised, the guard barged in the room. “Follow me,” he said sternly.

You walked down the stairs, through a hallway and the guard grabbed your arm and practically shoved you into a room. “Alright, what the fuck?” you let out, turning back toward the guard. “You can stop shoving me. I’ve been perfectly compliant, I mean where the fuck do you think i’m gonna go?” you lifted your arms up halfway, gesturing to the oversupply of guards in the house, “I mean at this point it’s just plain rude.”

The guard was dead silent, just glaring down at you. “Just proving my point there buddy,” you said quietly, turning back to face the inside of the room.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice said as soon as you turned around.

Your mouth parted slightly in pure shock, “Rafe.” You could not fucking believe it. Rafe Cameron in the flesh, after a month of zero contact. He could have been dead for all you knew.

The guard closed the door behind you, the click of the lock causing the both of you to become silent. You could only hear the sound of your heart pounding in your chest, and you were pretty sure you could here Rafe’s even from across the room.

“What are you doing here?” you breathed out, your voice coming out less strong than you intended. Your chest clenched, thinking of the possible reasons Rafe was standing in front of you, in the house you’d been taken to against your will.

Rafe met your eyes again, and this time you took the time to look at him. He looked different. His hair was buzzed, something that you never imagined can actually look good on a man, but Rafe Cameron shot that theory to hell.

“Me? What are you doing here?” Rafe said loudly, taking a step toward you.

“I wondered if you’re little reunion would cause sparks, you know,” a new voice said from the other side of the room. Yours and Rafe’s heads both turned toward the voice.

The man turned and walked toward the two of you, scratching his beard. “Who are you?” Rafe spoke up first, taking a couple steps to place himself beside you.

“Me? My name is Carlos Singh.” The man, Carlos, pointed at Rafe, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cameron. And you,” he pointed toward you, “Miss y/l/n, I apologize for the rough tactics used in bringing you here.” Rafe’s jaw clenched at Singhs words, and he took a slight sidestep so he was now standing in front of you. “But please, come. Sit down,” Singh gestured for you both to follow into the other room. “Come now, I don’t bite.”

You shared a short look with Rafe, before giving in and following the mysterious man. “Rough tactics. What about me?” Rafe asked, and it was clear to you now that he was here willingly, but it still seemed like he was in the dark.

Singh poured himself a drink as he responded to Rafe, "yes, Mr. Cameron false pretenses. But the ends justify the means, I'm afraid. Sit down," he suggested, or more like demanded.

You sat down on the cushioned chair, and Rafe sat on the couch, a scoff escaping his lips.

"Why are we here?" you asked, getting quite impatient.

"Well, Mr. Cameron, Miss y/l/n, we share certain interests, you know. Objectives-"

"Is this not about the cross?" Rafe cut him off, likely just as frustrated as you. You glanced at him. The cross? Did Singh offer to buy it?

“It is. Tangentially, it is about the cross, but it's also about something much, much bigger than the cross," he strode over a painting on the wall. "By orders of magnitude, the completion of a grand quest." You glanced at Rafe to see if he was as confused as you were. He clearly was. "You see, the story goes that 450 years ago, a Spanish soldier came out of the Orinoco Basin with a few gold beads. And when they asked the Spanish soldier where the beads came from, the soldier replied he got them from a peaceful Indigenous tribe who lived in a city of gold. El Dorado. And for the next 450 years, people tried to find that gold, you know. They tried. Conquistadors, Knights, tribes, entire nations. All fighting each other in a race for the end of the rainbow. Thousands of lives laid on the pyre of gold fever. And it falls to me, you know. It falls to me to complete the task. To bring full circle the quest that has gone on for almost 500 years. Perhaps the greatest quest in the history of the western hemisphere, you know. And you two.. you two are going to play a part in that." It was silent for a moment, you and Rafe challenging each other to speak first. "What about you, Ms. y/l/n. Are you interested in history?"

"Nope," you said simply, offering a fake smile.

"I didn't listen to a word you said, okay? How much you gonna keep philosophizing?" Rafe chimed in.

Singh chuckled dryly, "you are direct, aren't you, Mr. Cameron?" Rafe stared back at Singh, not saying a word.

You leaned back in your chair, bored, quite frankly of this whole interaction. You just wanted to get back with the rest of your friends, well, not before getting some answers from Rafe about what the hell he's been up to. "Now what exactly do you need from me?"

"I've come to believe that you and your friends are in possession of something that will help me get what I want."

"Which is?"

"An old manuscript. A diary, actually."

You kept your facial expression the same, if not a little falsely confused as Rafe and Singh both stared at you, waiting for an response.

Rafe was the first to speak, no doubt sensing that you knew something, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

You shook your head along with him, "I don't know anything about a diary," you said in your most believable tone.

"Then how did you know that the cross was on the Royal Merchant, hm?" Singh pressed, showing he clearly knew you weren't being truthful. But you weren't gonna give up your information to this random guy.

"Look, I wish I knew how to help you, really. But I don't," you said with a shrug of your shoulders.

"I was hoping you wouldn't say that, you know. Because unfortunately, I don't believe you."

You leaned forward slightly, "well, I don't know what to tell you. I don't have a diary, you know?" You mocked him, with a small grin playing at your lips. You heard Rafe stifle a laugh beside you.

Singh chuckled and shook his head, "listen, Ms. y/l/n, you and your friend here couldn't have found the cross without the diary."

"Well, I wouldn't say we're friends," you said with a sigh, leaning back in the chair again and crossing your legs, "I'm not really sure what we are exactly. It's actually quite a long sto-"

Rafe stood up, "this is ridiculous, I'm out. Come on y/n," he said, walking toward the door, not making it far when a guard stepped out in front of him.

"Do I look like a fool to you Mr. Cameron?" he stood up, walking toward him. Rafe simply shrugged. "You have the cross, she and her friends had the cross at one point. So one of you has the diary. And if you really don't know, then I suggest you convince your friend to tell me," he said, and Rafe made eye contact with you. You couldn't quite read the look in his eye. "Once I have the diary, you'll be free to leave."

Everyone stayed in the same position in silence for a couple moments, before Singh sighed, "alright then, follow me." He led the two of you to a bedroom upstairs, "enjoy the grounds during your stay. I must warn you, I'm not a man of infinite patience. You have one day," he moved back toward the door, "go to the window for a little demonstration, I think you'll like it, you know," he patted Rafe on the shoulder and left the room and a guard shut and locked the door.

Rafe banged on the door, "hey! you're just done talking?"

"Door's locked, Rafe," you said with a sigh, walking over to the window for this 'demonstration.'

You watched as Jimmy Portis was pulled from a truck by 3 guards. "Who the hell is that guy?" Rafe asked.

"Jimmy Portis. He was working for Singh, he brought me and everyone else here. But he was trying to help me," you said softly, watching the scene play out in front of you.

Singh turned to both of you and pulled out a gun, walking to where the guards were holding Jimmy. "Woah, woah, woah," Rafe muttered.

Within seconds, the gunshot had gone off. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you lost your balance a little, your shoulder bumping into Rafe's. He placed his hand on your waist out of instinct, steadying you. He took a breath before he turned to you, "this diary. Don't bullshit me, y/n, do you have it?" He asked you, looking into your eyes intently. He knew you couldn't lie to those eyes.

“No,” you said simply. “I don’t have it.

Rafe clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes, “okay, do you know where it is.”

You mentally debated whether to tell Rafe the truth or not for a few moments, before finally sighing, “yes, alright. I know where it is,” you admitted, breaking eye contact and walking over to sit on the bed.

Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly stressed by this whole situation. “You’ve gotta tell him where it’s at.”

You scoffed, “no chance. We don’t know this guy’s intentions, Rafe. Whats he gonna do when he gets whatever it is that he’s going through all this to get to?”

“This guy will kill us y/n. I mean you saw what he just did,” Rafe said, walking over to you, towering over your body as he stood near the bed.

“You’re telling me that you care if I live or die, Rafe? Really? Because it sure as hell didn’t seem like you cared about me when you left and said nothing. All you care about is yourself, that’s become clear to me,” you said with a scoff, moving to stand up.

Rafe shook his head quickly, putting his hands on your knees lightly to keep you from getting up. He knelt down in front of you, “wait, wait,” he took a deep breath, locking eyes with you. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. You were almost positive that was the first time you’d heard Rafe Cameron say those words, and mean them. He had your attention, that was for sure. “I care about you, y/n. You have to know that, okay? I shouldn’t have left without talking to you, hell, I shouldn’t have left at all. This god damn cross, the gold, it’s all cost me so much. But the worst thing it’s cost me is you, y/n,” his voice cracked saying your name, and your heart clenched. “I don’t care that you’re running around with the pogues, and I don’t care that you know where this diary is, I just- I care about you. And now that you’re here in front of me, I never want to lose you.”

It was the the tears that were dwelling in his blue eyes that made you put your hands on his shoulders and slide down off of the bed and onto your knees with him. Rafes arms tightened around your waist and you rested your head on his shoulder. Rafe let out a shaky breath into the side of your head, and you tightened your arms around him, sinking into the hug.

You’d admit it, you were beyond pissed at Rafe for months. You couldn’t imagine a time where you wouldn’t be pissed at him. But now with him in your arms again, you couldn’t imagine not loving Rafe Cameron.

“I’m so sorry,” Rafe mumbled into your neck, "you shouldn't even forgive me," he said so quietly that you almost didn't hear him. Your eyebrows furrowed together when he stood up abruptly, nearly making you fall over. He ran his hands over his face as he paced back and forth by the window.

"Rafe, hey," you stood up, moving toward him.

"No, stay away. Back up Y/N!" Rafe said loudly and you jumped unwillingly at his raised voice, and you immediately regretted it. Rafe's face fell impossibly more distraught, and his eyes filled to the brim with tears, "no, no, no," he muttered to himself, turning away from you. He now had both of his hands on the sides of his head, fingertips pressing into his skin. "I'm so sorry, I- I scared you. I can't believe, oh my god," he mumbled to himself. "I'm dangerous y/n. I have these- these thoughts and impulses and I don't know how to control it. I'm trying though, I really am- I'm trying," his voice broke, worse than last time, and the tears finally trailed down his face.

You finally moved over to him, scared he was about to collapse to the ground. Rafe let you wrap your arms around him tightly, "I know you're trying, baby," you said into his shirt, your own eyes becoming watery. Rafe's sobs muffled against your shoulder and you could feel the hot tears on your skin through the shirt. "You're okay, Rafe. It's all okay," you spoke softly as you rubbed his back in attempt to comfort him.

You stayed in the embrace for a couple minutes, until Rafe's breathing steadied and he pulled away from you, keeping his hands on your sides. Your heart nearly broke at the sight of his face, inches from yours. His eyes were already bloodshot, and his face showed the clearest vision of broken you'd ever seen. You didn't realize how serious this had gotten until he was breaking down in front of you.

You brought your hands up to the sides of his face, training your eyes on his, "Rafe, I need you to listen to me, okay?" he nodded weakly, "I love you with everything in me. I'd lost sight of that for awhile, but seeing you today, I know that I love you. And I could never, ever be scared of you. I know what you've done, and I know what you've been through. I know you're scared of those thoughts in your head, and I get it. We're going to get through it together, Rafe. I'm with you, always," you said wholeheartedly, attempting to keep your voice steady.

Rafe's eyes scanned yours, searching for tells that you were speaking the truth. His lips twitched into a relieved small smile after a moment, "I love you," Rafe breathed out, leaning forward to rest his forehead on yours.

You closed the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips to his for the first time in months. You sunk into the kiss, only now realizing how much you'd missed the feeling. It felt like your first kiss all over again, only now mixed with love and a few stray tears from Rafe's cheeks.

You were the first to pull away, resting your forehead back on his, "now let's get the hell out of here."

---

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Insatiable

Part 3/Finale to Cravings and Crash

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie and reader spend some time apart before realizing that’s actually really stupid—and solid communication happens for once :) 

Notes: it’s finally HERE! Thank you all so much again for your words of praise and keeping with these two absolute idiots in love. Honestly intended the first one to just be a one-off drabble throw away thought, but I’m glad everyone enjoyed it so much to ask for more! I’m spitting this out earlier than expected. Don’t know if I’ve done them reasonable justice but this is what I’ve got—hope you like it!

Warnings: unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, mentions of m oral, pussy eating king returns, cum eating, missionary, doggy, cowgirl, overstimulation, fingering, squirting, bit of possessive and jealous Frankie, mentions of drug use, drugs present, language

18+ ONLY

- - - - 

You had cried when you got in your car. And again when you went to your cousin’s house to crash until you signed your new lease. And then again every night for a week straight.

You had NEVER cried this hard over a boy before.

Except this wasn't some boy—this was Frankie. The guy who comforted you through all your dates that stood you up, and shitty boyfriends, albeit few, that left you feeling less than worthwhile. The same Frankie who stood around you like a guard dog when you went drinking together so no one would even think to slip something in your cup, but who YOU have to comfort during horror movies because he's a big scared kitten. Who lets you sleep on his shoulder for five hours in the car no matter how uncomfortable it was for him, never once moving, but still ate the food you didn't like off your plate "because he's a garbage dump who'd eat anything, even mold." 

The first guy to tell you that you were beautiful when you weren't even trying to impress him. Who brings a hair tie with him when you go to eat because you always forget yours and get your hair caught in your fork. Who pushed you to take charge of your life and break up with your loser first love, and it was the hardest and best decision you could have ever made.

And you know what? The ONLY guy who made you cum 9 fucking times the FIRST time he went down on you.

You called Santi that night because you needed to let loose, and the only other person you trusted to hold you up outside of Frankie was Pope.

“So how is he?” Santi asked, as you immediately double fisted your first two shots. 

"I don't wanna talk about him tonight."

Santi nods, eyes widening as you don’t even resist the bitter taste going down your throat. He holds his finger up towards the waitress to order 4 more glasses.

You really didn't want to think about Frankie. The more you thought about him, the more confused you felt, and you couldn't afford to be confused about your purpose in his life right now. You knew battling addiction isn’t a linear healing process. That it would get worse before it got better at times. You're his friend. You're helping him. That's it. 

Frankie spent a whole year being physically intimate with you, but never once asked or made a move for anything more emotionally. So why let yourself get carried away even thinking about something more?

To even consider if you wanted more...

You snatch the shot glass out of Santi's hand right before he was about to sip it and catapulted it down your throat, the burning sensation taking your mind out of the gutter.

Fuck Frankie for not keeping his shit together. Fuck him for being hot and cold. Fuck him for using you when that's exactly what you’re here for.

It's much easier to keep it all that way. Easy to encourage him with sex to avoid overthinking his intentions. Easier to constantly verbalize it, knowing he won’t deny it, as a means of reassurance to yourself. 

But absolutely fucking HELL he’s being so difficult lately. The sex—wasn’t just good. It was fucking phenomenal. you could physically see how much better he was just moments afterwards, even if you were blacking out and falling asleep not too long after. He was so hungry for it too, why deny? But he’d been holding back too much now—getting too tense, crashing, then stressed again. You needed to get things back on schedule with him so he’d be happy again.

And gentle, nurturing, innocent, sober you just wasn't doing the trick for him anymore.

You barely hear Santi over the pounding in your head: "When we was the last time you got laid? You need a distraction from your Fix-a-Fish hobby."

You gulp down the last of the vodka on the table, suppressing a slight burp.

"I'm 'bout to do both tonight."

That was 4 weeks ago. You didn’t achieve either that night.

Fish didn't seem too upset when you left, ultimately making the choice much easier. You looked so fucking stupid walking in there, basically demanding sex from him when he made it clear all year that you were only there for HIM and not the other way around. He didn’t want you like that. 

Good. Makes staying friends that much easier.

Or it did, for a little while. 

You couldn’t get over the way he made you feel when all was well—when he’d serenade you so easily in affection like Querida, Carino, Hermosa, and you could barely contain the butterflies in your stomach each time. You had never once heard him even refer to his dates or ex girlfriends in the same manner. It was both confusing and arousing. He treated you like a best friend some times, but adored you like a lover more. 

Hadn’t the man heard of friendship boundaries? Aside from the fact he made you orgasm every minute of the day, what was Frankie like as a lover? What more could he possibly do to cross that line?

Who the hell treats their friend like that?

That last month, however, felt more realistic. Grounded in the truth of your relation. You didn’t realize how much he had gotten to you with sweet words first that made the change in his attitude so unbearable. 

You wanted to go back to being selfish with his unbridled love.

You hadn’t gotten off in over a week, a new record. But as you lay in bed, conjuring any and all pornos, audio eroticas, pillows, aching fingers, even the dusty vibrator still wrapped in its new plastic, nothing was getting you to that same addictive feeling that Frankie gave you every single day.

You should have called him to return his shirt you had accidentally packed in your bag in a haste to get out of there. But it still smelled like him. You felt perverted getting wet just by holding it in your hands, but it was doing the trick, and finally you could touch yourself without additional lubricant assistance.

All the memories that tumbled from then on only made the ache between your legs worse: The first night, Frankie between your legs, begging you to let go so he could force more orgasms from your shaking body. “Doing s’good for me, cariño. Give me more, fucking starving” ; when he held you in his lap as you grind down on his bulge, his head buried under his shirt that you were wearing as his lapped at your nipples, “Don’t you dare hold back those beautiful moans, wanna hear you singing when I’m devouring you”; when he’d come home from work and didn’t say a word, just grabbed your wrist and lead you to his bedroom, lied on the bed, slapped your ass a few times to get you to straddle him higher, higher, until you were right over his lips. He didn’t even wait for your hesitation, immediately bringing your hips down and crashing his lips on your pussy, shaking his head like a mad scientist at work, hell bent on discovering what makes you cry faster.

You pulled your fingers away from your slick cunt. No amount of memory would compare to the real thing—and it wasn’t all the acts that you needed, but the intimacy, the familiarity that came from Frankie—THAT’S what always sent you over the edge.

It scared you.

Santi was half right. You did need to get laid. Needed someone who wasn’t Frankie to remind you that you don’t rely on him for some shit like getting off (although you had developed a keen preference by now). You needed a new hobby that wasn’t thinking about Frankie all the time. YOU needed a distraction.

He was half wrong, however, because you knew very well that you’d be drowning in lame date after lame lay a million times before you got over the addictive feeling of being around Fish this past year.

It never felt like a chore. Well, obviously, you were getting ate out like a Sunday brunch. But it was everything else that made you want to keep staying around, even after he maybe didn’t need you anymore.

You realized then that leaving was the best for you and him. You had somehow managed to score a  date tonight, the first one in over a year, with a James. Or Jonathan. Or Jimmy. Something J. I think.

I’m excited. I’m going on a date. I’m going to have fun. I’m excited. Im going on a date. Im going to have fun.

You didn’t even have the care to shave tonight before you begrudgingly left for dinner and a movie.

-

He couldn't say it then. Frankie remembered so vividly the image that he wishes he could forget: you standing there, so meek and vulnerable, spilling your tears as you tried to level your emotions with your feelings and confront the fucked up situation he put you in. Maybe if you had screamed, yelled at him and cussed him out for being such a dick, then he could have told you how he truly felt.

He was always better at being shouted at by others from being in the service. The guys would let their tempers soar and just shout, honesty tumbling through like a flood, and then everything would be out on the table, and shit would get DONE.

The apartment is unforgivably quiet and cold.

He's noticing little things you left behind: your nice moisturizer, expensive shampoo, a paper towel holder. He thinks you’re mocking him by leaving bits of you around his place, so he collects them in a bin and waits for you to come retrieve them. But you don't contact him for the first week.

He starts to think maybe you left those things for him. You bought all these things while you were here, forcing him to use them with you:

"Your face is as dry as a desert; you need moisturizer, not body lotion.”

"You can't use a 4 in one hair and body wash!"

"Who the fuck doesn't have a holder for their paper towels?"

It wasn't all just sex when you were here. He remembered coming in to the bathroom when your feet were soaking in the tub, and you explained you were rubbing your calluses off your feet. He joined you, sweats pulled up above his knee as you held him down to get the stone on his crusty feet, the whole time laughing and squirming because it tickled too much. He fell on his ass in the tub desperate to escape your strangely strong grip around his ankle, getting his clothes all wet.

And despite how well he had known you even before your arrangement, he continued to learn new things about you. Like you took night showers, and could only go to bed with your hair in braid. He'd come to see you, agitated in his room all morning, waiting for you to finally wake up so he could distract his craving. He’d walk into the kitchen where you were already cooking him breakfast, slip his arms around your hip, and pull your braids out lovingly to smell scent of your shampoo waft off in waves, closing his eyes and feeling his jitters dissipate, instantly calming him like no other remedy.

Found it funny that you couldn’t use a regular spoon for cereal, always replacing it with a tea spoon because the other ones are “too big” for your mouth to fully close around. A sentiment he suspected to be a load of BS when you had no problem swallowing his cock whole and then gulping down his cum without spilling a drop.

Or when you got red sauce all over the laundry and had to borrow Frankie's shirt to sleep in. He liked that you smelled like him, that it draped over you so pretty, and you'd never wear pants underneath. He'd put you in his lap and make you hold the shirt up with your teeth, showing off your perky tits. His thumb circled your hip bone, large hand clasping your waist to keep you upright while he'd kiss your nipples, and then make you both look down and watch as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, sucking the juices off as he finger fucked you over top him.

He can't help but feel his twitch of his cock stir in his pants at the thought.

Ok. Maybe the sexual parts were a big part—how could they not be? That’s all it was, at first. And he was able to pretend like it was too. But the more time he spent with you. The more time he got to really know you, live with you, breathe you in, unravel you and bind him to you so that you had no sanctuary untouched by him, it was all over before it began. 

He sat down with Pope a week after you left: 

“You look like shit.”

Frankie grumbled, shrugging it off. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten like he used to when you were around. His beard was growing in more patchy and less manicured than before.

“Have you talked to her since?”

“Don’t wanna talk about her tonight.”

Jesus, a broken record with these two, Santi thought. But he knew Fish much better, knew the exact reason why he called him out instead of all the boys together is precisely because he needed to get this off his chest. “She thought you were stressed, needed time. Clearly she was right.”

Frankie’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding so hard that he could form diamonds.

Santi cleared his throat, twirling the ice in his glass casually. “Course, I didn’t tell her you’re head over heels in love with her. Why didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t think he could again. “Imagine how that would have gone? She was crying right there. Right in front of me, BECAUSE of me, after I’d treated her like shit for weeks until her breaking point. Would have given her some fucked up idea that that was my expression of loving her. If I’d said it then, she would never have believed me. Would have ruined everything. Including our friendship.” He pauses, staring down at his rough hands. “She deserves better,” he said weakly, more to convince himself than anyone else.

Santi leans back against the booth. He’d heard the Frankie pity train before, but this was much lower than usual. “And friendship is still good enough for you?”

“I’ll take whatever she’ll give me at this point. I can’t lose her.” 

“You can’t? Or don’t want to?”

Frankie thought about that for a while. He had realized too late he didn’t actually still need you. He hadn’t really ���craved” cocaine like before. He no longer needed you tending to his every reaction, overly serving his necessities and desires, always a few steps away to brighten his smile, or warm the house with your laughter, your cooking, your terrible taste in movies, all for the sake of keeping him sane and sober.

But damn it all, he still wanted you.

Frankie goes 4 weeks of the hardest withdrawal of his life. You were right, he was getting better at not thinking about cocaine. But without you here, he's more agitated than before. It's not that he craves it now, but rather craves a substitute to get him through your absence.

He's itching for his phone, for the number of his dealer he should have blocked and deleted so long ago.

He shouldn't. It would devastate you. You'd think it's your fault because you weren't here to distract him, only making the whole lie he’s been telling himself that you could still be just friends more abundantly evident. Pushing that useless tale even further, rooting it in your mind.

 In truth, it is your fault that his entire happiness is now emotionally and physically tied to you, but he can't really blame you for leaving him since he's the big idiot. He had the entire year to make it right, damned be the consequences of your possible rejection.

He’s clenching his fist at his sides, debating whether to text his dealer. He doesn't even want that shit, at least not the way before. He just wants a distraction from the real aches that you've left behind.

And if he did... wouldn't you come back to him to make it right?

You’re so clear in his mind that doesn't even struggle, doesn't hesitate as he pays the money and carries the little pouch in his hands. He gets back to his apartment with vigorous haste, slamming the door behind him, and sits it on the coffee table, staring.

Even if you don't come back to him, getting just a little bit high would help take his mind off it all. He'd be able to stop thinking about you, even for just the night. Just to get some sleep.

Just to stop feeling.

He shakily tries to undo the tightly sealed bag, but few particle traces catch in his finger tips from outside the plastic, and he instantly wafts the infinitesimal scent of it on his finger tips. He stops, feeling something he's never felt before when staring down at the thing thats caused him so much trouble in his life:

Disgust.

-

You considered calling Frankie a million times, but how soon was too soon? Would he think you were just desperate to get ate out again? Would he deny you the second you wanted to see him, thinking it was just a booty call again? You had made some stupid choices, like going on a shitty date with a guy you weren’t even interested in, just to get over Frankie, so that you could avoid thinking about how badly you had shattered your friendship.

And going right back to being his friend, which included sharing one of your reckless decisions you make on your own, was one of them. He’d be interested in hearing about it, right?

You dial him up quickly.

You rock back and forth on your heels, unable to sit still.

The phone rings out to voicemail.

He’s never missed a phone call from you. Not even at 2am on a work night. He's never on his phone, and yet still always managed to answer your calls even if it’s on the last ring.

He's just avoiding you again. It's fine. Santi said he'll get over it eventually. That you’ve done enough worrying for him, and need to take care of yourself for a change.

You glance at the key he gave back to you, and not even a moment later, are soon slipping on shoes and heading out the door with it in hand.

-

You unlock the door and slowly walk in to the familiar layout of Frankie's apartment. It's entirely dark, curtains drawn save for a small crack in the shades. You call out his name tentatively, the eeriness of the place making you anxious. When you see the bathroom light on and door slightly ajar, hearing the rushing sink water running, you sigh relief.

Thank God.

You gently push open the door. "Fish?" You see him, heart skipping a beat at how much thinner, paler he looked now than before, eyes sunk from lack of sleep.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and your heart breaks at how different he looks but STILL has the brightest, softest, loving smile at you.

Your eyes drift down, smile fading, horror quickly overtaking your face at the unopened baggie of white powder sitting at the sink. And his face drops at the realization.

You take one step back, unable to close the gape in your lips, petrified. "Fish—I—holy fuck..."

You had never seen him doing it, never seen him freshly blown high from it. The closest you ever got was what the boys would tell you, or seeing the long aftermath of his crash. They were always first on the scene and quite frankly, ensured you were never the one to find in him these states. You had never been able to mentally prepare to have to handle it now.

"No—no no no! It's not, I didn’t, I didn't! Look—ok it looks like I did but I swear I haven't touched it. It’s still sealed! I’m. I'm dumping it down the toilet."

You don't trust his word, seeing as the bag is here, albeit fully wrapped up, seal unbroken like he said. But here, nonetheless. With him. In front of you with no denial that it was his. 

He gets on his knees and wraps his arms around your waist. “Please don’t leave me. I didn’t want you to leave the first time…”

“And it’s taking you being high right now to admit that?!”

I’m not high, seriously. Check me.” You peer down closer, and aside from his rampant heart beating against your leg and big round eyes, there’s no trace of smell or lingering white powder anywhere on him. But you’re hesitant.

“I bought it but then realized It wasn’t what I really wanted…”

He licks his lips quickly, his brown eyes pleading up to you, biceps flexing against your ribcage.

Your chest is pounding, the encasing feeling of Frankie refusing to let you back away making you feel like a trapped rabbit. 

“Please believe me,” he breathes.

"Your eyes are dilated as fuck Frankie!"

"That's because of you!"

You both hold your breath, a pregnant silence ringing in the air.

“I—I’m. Um. I meant." His eyes trail off sheepishly as a warm blush takes over his face. 

He stands up, rubbing the back of his head. He can tell you’re patiently waiting for him to get over his blubbering awkwardness so he can explain properly. To find the words he’s combing his brain for. And find them he did: 

"I miss you, Querida.”

He breathes slowly, time catching up and suddenly stopping. 

You glance toward the bag, still fearful that he had gotten to this point while you were gone. “Frankie. I’m—I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. For your needs—“

“I don’t need you to fix me. I haven’t craved that shit for a while, still don’t even now. I just wanted you here with me.” He snatches the baggie and chucks it in the toilet, immediately flushing it.

You want to say that might not be great for the plumbing, but Frankie’s hands are on yours, holding them securely to his chest. “I just want you. I should have said it before you walked away.  Should’ve said it a year ago, when I knew I didn’t want to pretend this was just some—some drug replacement.” He goes quieter. “I didn’t want this to be nothing. I thought when we had sex, maybe you’d feel the same, but you didn’t—”

“I was afraid about what would happen to you If our dynamic changed, Fish. I was worried it was just another high. So I tried to make things go back to how they were since it seemed to be working so well for you before,” you rambled. He can see the shininess in your eyes, feel how your body is no longer resisting him and instead, cradling his neck with affection, empathy, nurture, all the things he’d been depraved of for weeks. “But then it made everything worse and I didn’t know what to do—“

He cut you off, as if suddenly things didn’t line up. ”Why did you come back?"

You lick your lips, eyes unable to meet his. “Well I called, and you didn't answer. And I wanted to check up on you, and tell you... um—I mean I always tell you about… I went on a date, my first one in over a year."

Frankie's eyes blankly drift lower, down to your feet, his arms retreating. He takes an awkward step back. "How... how did it go?" He asks slowly, feeling the distance between the two of you growing again.

You throw your hands up in the air, unable to express yourself. “He was…Handsome. Funny. Charming. Paid for me, made me feel pretty, treated me real good—“

He nodded, unable to bring his eyes anywhere else but back to the back on the sink as he listened. “S’good. That’s what you deserve,” he says, jaw tensing.

“Yeah. Yeah it is what I deserve.” You pause, here goes everything. “Except the whole time, I hated the fact that he was nothing like you." 

Frankie’s attention darts back to you as you cup his scruffy face in your hands. "You're irritable, and sassy, and needy and clingy, and you pout when you don't get what you want. And you don't listen to me or stop when I tell you to stop—“

A roasting fest? Now?? “OK, That's, Jesus, I get it—“

"And I love all those things about you.” You hold his gaze, feeling his breath seize in his chest. “And I miss being here. I miss waking up with you every morning, and your smug face being the last I see before I go to sleep. And it took me until after I left to realize how I actually felt about you. This whole year with you has felt like this perfect—“

"High?"

Your brows furrow shyly. “I didn’t want to put it that way, for obvious reasons. But fuck it. Yes. I don’t—I don’t wanna let that go.”

His fingers tense around your waist, almost begging you to say it, spill it out for him and don’t hold back ever again. 

“You got me addicted to you, Francisco."

You aren't aware of how fast he moves, his hands grabbing your neck as he smashes his lips to yours. Your heart is beating out of your chest when he sucks every breath from you, barely separating from your lips to utter "I've waited—so long—for you—“ He hoists you up on his waist and brushes out of the bathroom with your legs wrapped securely around him, his kiss hot and full of passion the entire time. "Wanted you since you first let me have a taste of you.” He slams you on the bed, the familiarity of you two being in this exact situation settles on you. “Wanted you to want me. Want more.”

He continues to engulf your lips with his, his moans vibrating against your tongue. "I shouldn’t—“ he hastily bites your lip with a grunt “—shouldn't have pushed you away—treated you so bad.” He pauses his assault. “I was so scared you didn't want me like that. Couldn't handle pretending I could be okay with it.”

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart matching yours. "Frankie, I want you."

"Good," he smiles, leaning up to remove his shirt over his shoulders. You whine at the sight. Draping himself over you, his lips never leave your body as he kisses down your chest then back to your lips. You’re unable to bring yourself to action as his body dictates both of your moves.

You feel his bulge pressing painfully against your core, eliciting an obscene moan from your throat. "Frankie—Let me take care—“

"No. Fuck no. I'm taking care of you tonight. And tomorrow, and every fuckin’ day after," he growls.

He kisses you once again but then slowly backs away. "Um, if... if you want that."

He feels your hand tangle in the hair behind his neck as you bring his face back to yours, teeth clashing for dominance. "I want it," you whisper, sucking his lower lip and biting it possessively.

His jaw hitches. “Prove it."

You unbutton your pants, taking his large hand and guiding it down your panties in haste. His digits make contact between your folds, the two of you sighing.

"Oh f-fuck. You want this, don't you?"

"Want you so bad, Frankie. It fucking hurts.”

His fingers dont leave your dripping cunt, spreading your slick around your swollen clit. His other rips your string underwear off with incredible strength. He then helps push your shirt over your head, and you immediately unclasp your bra. Frankie growls lowly at the sight of your perky breasts bouncing from their release. "Fuck, I missed these.” His mouth wraps around as much fat of your tit he could before biting, making you lurch. 

“I—I’m not gonna be slow—I wanted to—“

"Jesus Fish, I don’t care, just take me!"

He plunges two of his thick digits into your soaking heat, making your back arch off the bed. He takes the opportunity to suck a nipple back into his mouth, half his body hovering over you to keep your form perfectly positioned between his mouth and fingers. They teasingly thrust in and out slowly from your hole, intentionally dragging out his torture against you. "So mean to me, baby." His teeth nip at your nipple with a smug grin. "Takin’ my sweet little pussy away from me like that. I barely touched you and you're absolutely soaked. Were you wet on your way here?"

"Frankie I haven't... haven't been able to get off in weeks."

"How long?"

You moan out loud, eyes rolling back as your brain turns to mush. Your hand tries to guide his wrist faster but he slaps it away, continuing his teasing ministrations.

"Answer me!"

"Since the last time you touched me!" You cry.

He haults his movements. 

The girl who bragged about cumming an average of 6 times a day just grinding on a pillow, now telling him she hasn't been able to orgasm in a month, because of him.

Ohhhhhhh fuuuuccccckkkkkfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. “That why you went on your little date, huh?"

You nod shamefully.

"Did you fuck him?"

You whine, eyes burrowing in confusion that he still expected you have coherent thoughts while he had you in this compromising position, teetering on the brink of your much needed orgasm.

"Your date.” He repeats, his wrist slowing down entirely. “Did. You. Fuck. Him."

“No—no! I didn’t even let him kiss me goodnight. Couldn't even get wet for him, that's how bad—Frankie, fuck! please!—bad you've got me fucked up."

He speeds up his hands, satisfied with your confessions. They are thrusting perfectly in and out at record speeds as his jaw clenched around your tit, watching your eyes roll back as your first orgasm in WEEKS overwhelms you fast. You’re shaking violently, legs desperate to close but Frankie pries them open with his strong hand, continuing to dominate your cunt with his incessant fingers.

You feel something else coming as he continues to ram his wrist against you, fingers digging so deep, curling so effortlessly that you can’t stop the gush of liquid squirting out of you. “Oh shit, oh fuckfuckFUCK that’s it! That’s my girl, holy fuck yeah—yeah keep going, Cariño, so fucking good.” He continues to finger fuck you repeatedly, working you through it as your pussy continues to contract and release your spend.

You hardly have time to process your embarrassment as he's shifting below your hips, throwing your thighs over shoulder and giving your soaked pussy a longing look. Your clit twitches excitedly. Cool air is blown on it, making you fist his hair harder. He presses his large nose into you, inhaling your scent like bloodhound, growling like a man possessed at the sticky coating. "I fucking missed you, Hermosa," he groans, and his mouth latched right on to your pulsing cunt. You gasp, hands fisting his hair as he rolls your overstimulated clit with his tongue, jaw opening wide to practically swallow your pussy whole, sucking away everything you're giving him.

Whether he was talking to you or your pussy, it didn’t really matter to you. All you could process was the rough feeling of his fat tongue and scruffy face rubbing perfectly between your legs as Frankie got reacquainted with his former addiction. "FrankieFrankieFranke-ohFUCK!"

You can’t stop him, can’t even warn him as the overstimulation send you into a fit of gasps, cumming again, legs squeezing his head as painful pleasure courses through you. His upper back is littered in your scratches, the red marks raising his skin like tiger stripes.

You're struggling to catch your breath with ragged moans. He slows his licks to draw it out, letting your spasms pass. His sinful, lidded eyes have never left your face, absorbing every reaction from you, committing it to memory.

"You really have neglected this poor pussy," he teases, kissing your clit as his fingers begin to spread your glistening folds once again.

You can only nod, arms covering your face as he starts to rub the pad of his thumb on your swollen nub again. “It’s—not as good—unless it’s you.”

He grits his teeth in satisfaction. “S’okay. M’ gonna take care of you now. Gonna fuck you real soon."

You whine when he pushes his fingers back in to your tight heat.

"And then, when I’m done fucking you—We're gonna fuck again," he laughs.

You’re a bit frightened with how he’s looking at you: like he’s fucking possessed by a hungry, malicious demon.

He makes you cum on his fingers again, then his lips, then both at once. He’s pinning you down so harshly, you have no choice but to take the endless barrage of orgasms he’s forcing from you, almost as if he’s trying to make up for the time you two have been apart. 

By the time his tastebuds are content, he brings himself back up to you, messily kissing your lips so you taste yourself, his beard and stache now soaked in your cum and rubbing along your chin.

You gasp when you feel his hard cock sliding along your folds. He rolls his hips against you, your copious slick letting him glide effortlessly, tip nudging your clit.

“Frankie,” you warn, unable to handle his teasing now.

He grabs the base of his dick. “Beg. Beg me for it,” He commands with a godly voice you’d never heard him use before. He slaps the underside of his throbbing member repeatedly against your pussy with a taptaptaptap. “Tell me you want it.”

You don’t care for the fat tears spilling down your cheeks as you whine like a bitch in heat. “Fuckyou, Frankie,” you seethe, anger building with your desperation. “I fucking want it, want it so bad, want you to ruin me, please, Fish, fucking please put it in already!”

He grins, big and sadistic as he watches your face contort with the first push of his tip into your wetness. “Oh F—“ he breathes, eyes closing as your tight walls do their best to accomodate his size.

Your eyesight is blurry, waves of pleasure rolling throughout your entire body, delirious as he bottoms out. Where he belongs. Where he’s always meant to be.

He presses his forehead to you as his hips start rutting.

He’s hardly fucked you for a few seconds, but the pressure building inside of you, desperate for this moment again after months, isn’t giving you a choice to savor it. “Fish—fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK! ‘M not gonna last!"

He growls excitedly, driving his cock more harshly into you, reaching that special spot he’s decided is only his to abuse. “It’s okay, babygirl. You cum for me. You're always so good at it."

And you are, you really are. “OH FUCK FRANKIE!” You scream. Your body agreeing with him so much that your abrupt orgasm squeezes around him so hard, his movements stop altogether.

“Oh shit—“ he hisses, your pussy greedily milking the cum right out of him. He only pauses for a moment, shaking over you for a moment as his first orgasm subsides before his hips are moving of their own accord, his cum forced out with each thrust.

“Keep goin’, pretty thing. Give me more,” he grunts. 

You nod deliriously, eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he pounds your battered puussy.

He pulls out, the sudden withdrawal making you whine with emptiness. He sinks to his knees again, yanking your knees up to your chest. Your pussy twitches, his cum spilling out and sinking down your ass.

He lets out of primal groan from the back of his throat before smashing his mouth on your cunt, sucking your clit and tongue fucking your hole like a cream filled pastry. You feel the descending bob of his Adam’s apple against your rear as he swallows the mixture of your cum, drinking it like liquid life from the source. “We taste—so—fucking—good, Princesa,” he taunts, tongue lapping your little clit in quick succession before shaking his head back and forth aggressively against your mound, smearing the obscene mixture across your folds and making a mess.

Oh fuck, he’s so gone.

He quickly gets on his knees, turning you over on your stomach like you weigh nothing. His hands grip around your hips, bringing them flush against his crotch again as you arch your back for him. He puts his palm on the small of your back, keeping you right there, pressed tight against him as his cock slides back into your eager and cum coated cunt.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, setting a faster pace this time. You hadn't realized just how much Frankie was holding back the first time you had sex. He leans over your body, hands splayed past your shoulders, fisting the bed as he rails you deep, his thighs crashing against you with harsh slaps. Your temple lands against his cheek, meeting eye contact. He smiles, breath caught in his throat like running a mile at your fucked out expression. 

He continues to fuck you like an animal. A soft hand grips your chin lovingly, tilting your head further back so his lips meet yours with each punishing grind. You’re surprised by how much you love the hold he has on you, willingly submitting to him without being told. Drunk on each other’s lust.

You suck greedily around his tongue, hand reaching behind the two of you to play with his soft brown curls, refusing to let him leave your mouth. He stutters with a few more thrusts before halting, eyes scrunched closed. “AUUGHHH—haaaahh!” You feel the twitch of him inside you, draining his balls some more of his plentiful seed. 

“Fuck, fuck I love it when you cum inside me!” You confess. The action makes you fall forward, mouth burying into his pillows as you muffle your own cry of your release again.

He pulls out of you and flops to the bed. You think maybe he is done, after having cum twice now, bur Frankie is quick to bring you to straddle him, his dick never once softening as it presses incessantly to your entrance again. He licks his lips, watching his cum spill down your thighs, right to his creamy cock that refuses to fully part from you. 

“Frankie,” you moan, unsure if you can take him again.

“Want you just like this. Ride me,” he breathes. He’s covered in sweat, out of breath and shaking with a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline if it were possible. His hands gently wrap around your waist as he guides you. Eyes so lidded, transfixed on the area where your mound slowly swallows him again.

You’re nodding, body taking over all actions, completely starved for the man under you. 

He leans up to get a good look at you, taking it slow, burning this in head to remember.

"Thought about you... everyday.” He whispers, mouth parted in lust, gliding your hips along with steady rolls. “Couldn't sleep."

His hands down along the curve of your ass, to your thighs spread out over him, before rubbing up the length of your back, holding you as close to him as he can possibly bring you, your tits pressing against his chest. He struggles to breathe evenly as your creamy pussy continues to tighten around him each time he breaches you, the two of you moaning softly into each others’ open mouths. He occasionally catches your lips, slotting perfectly as you grind against him.

His mouth finds its way back down to your pebbled nipple, biting gently before kissing it better. He brings his face back to yours. “So perfect for me,” he whispers.

You start grinding on him more fervently, lifting yourself on your knees ever slightly and baring down on him. He grits his teeth, sinking further down into the bed, eyes never leaving you as his digs his nails into the meat of your hips, forcing you to bounce harder. 

“That’s it, baby. Ride me just like that. MY girl, my beautiful girl.”

You bite your lips, feelings your clit catch on his public hairs. The sloppy squelching of his cum being driven out of your heat by his thick cock is no match to the heavenly sounds you were making atop him. The vein in his neck strains like he’s suffocating himself from air, refusing to slow down, to take a break, to let go for even just a moment.

“More. Give me more,” you moan, confidence soaring as you feel him begin to meet your hips with every thrust. “I want all of you, Frankie.”

He shouts out, lifting you up, his feet digging into mattress as he fucks you from below. “Fuck, fuck!”

You want to throw your head back, ride out this high, but the dangerous allure of him watching you brings your focus down to him, watching the way the two of you are getting off to the other falling apart.

“Just like this. You n’ me. Want it just like this. Forever.” He mumbles repeatedly, ragged pants uneven as he fills you the way you had been unknowingly wanting for months.  

You feel the build of your umpteenth orgasm building in your lower tummy. “Frankie-F-Franke! I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Do it, Querida, do it f-for me.” He thinks he can starve off the low build of his third orgasm of the night, just enough to make you cum for him once more.

You feel the heavy knot in your stomach snap. With absolutely no hesitation, no doubt behind your word, you cry out, “I love you!” as you cum harder than any time before.

Lifting you both practically off the bed, Frankie’s hips seize, pressed so tightly against yours there was no room between you. He shouts loudly, animalistic, snarling with his teeth baring at you and 0 control left in him, immediately emptying his load deep inside with each heavy pulse of his cock against your cervix, painting your walls white with the last of his cum that his balls could give you.

You collapse on top of him, the two of you sucking  air like you were underwater for years. Neither of you say anything, covered in sweat and cum, but finally being able to relax from the pent up release that’s been building there far longer than it ever should have been.

His hand rests against your lower back, somehow pressing your naked body closer to his. 

“I love you,” you whisper again to his collarbone. He brings your eyes to his, and this time he knows you mean it.

-

Frankie wakes to a cold bed.

His arm reaches out subconsciously for your body, but only feels cool empty sheets at his side. His eyes fly open, head sitting upright as he scans his bedroom. There's no sign of you. None of your clothes are scattered on the floor, no immediate trace of your scent. He feels a strong pain in his chest suffocating and stabbing him all at once.

He lies back flat on his pillow, fingers rubbing his forehead. He has two thoughts: the first thought, the one he'd rather think is true, is that it was all dream. You hadn't come home to him.

Before he could bring himself to consider the pain of the second thought, the fear is instantly squashed when he hears the door creak open, your sweet soft smile and gentle eyes landing on him.

‘Hiiiii,” you whisper in a singsong, gentle morning voice. Tip toeing bare foot on the hardwood floor, he see’s you’re dressed in nothing but one of Frankies slightly torn over sized, faded band T shirts that swallows your body. Your bed head still evident, eyes baggy yet happy from the events of last night.

He didn't realize he had held his breath the moment before you walked in, afraid that rather than having dreamt it all, that it did happen, and you had left him anyway.

"I made you tea," you hummed, setting the two cups down by his bedside table.

Your ears go red at the image of him: sheet pulled half way up his hip, his bare chest and torso visible as he props himself up with his elbows to get a good look at you. And the WAY he's looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, has you sheepishly avoiding his big brown pupils, sliding in to the covers and nuzzling your head against his shoulder.

He wraps his arms around you, unwilling to let you sneak off again. “Don’t wake up before me like that again.”

You giggle. “Frankie, it’s 4 in the afternoon.” 

He checks his digital clock by the bed, true to your word. You both had fucked so hard, so long last night that he didn’t even realize it was well into the morning by the time you had drifted to sleep. 

He lies back down in bed, encircling you to him again. He can more clearly see the damage of last night’s episode on you: bite marks along your tits, hickies against your inner thighs and swollen lips. he doesn’t even need to touch your pussy, feeling its puffy soreness pressing against his leg. He kisses you gently yet passionately this morning, cradling your head so you can’t back away. Not that you want to—he doesn’t feel any resistance in your movements as you devour his lips. 

“I love you,” he says clearly. He can feel the way your breath hitches, the blush on your cheeks at the confession. “I love you, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to say it. I’m sorry I caused you so much confusion and I—“

“Okay, Fish. It’s okay. I know.” You bite your lip, pushing your hand against his chest so that he’s lying down on his back. “But I’m not sure I forgive you just yet.”

A brief moment of confusion wracks his face before you’re clambering on top of him again, your naked lower body straddling his under the sheet. You fist the t shirt of your head, letting your soft supple breasts fall. Frankie immediately grabs them tenderly with both of his warm hands, his breath quickening. His length twitches, hard as a rock and pressing right against his lower stomach as you glide your slick folds along him.

“I think you should keep making it up to me.” You align the tip of his throbbing cock against your swollen entrance and sink down, hands seeking purchase on his chest, scratching the skin there as he fills your sore cunt, taking him down to the hilt in one go.

You let out the tiniest, sexiest whimper, and Frankie is ready to drop everything he’s ever owned just to hear it again. So smitten with you, he’s grinning harder than he has his entire life. Like a big dumb idiot.

Your big dumb idiot.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Querida: I love you.”

Tagging people who either requested a part 2/3 or directly requested to be tagged. At least what i can remember (sorry if I missed you!)

- - - -

Series masterlist

Series Taglist: @paleidiot @pedropascalsbbg @tonakings @nerdieforpedro @thewritermj @ahintofkiwistrawberry @perfectly-imperfect-me23 @sammy-4103 @survivingandenduring @millercontracting @emilyjustemily @boiistfu @pedritoferg @missladym1981 @titlee78 @fairytale07 @multiplefandomwritings @steviesimp @marisemonteiroo @dilfluverrrrrrr @howdigetinhere @jessthebaker

Permanent Taglist: @harriedandharassed 

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roomates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: kissy kissy, a little tinsy bit angsty, flirtatious banter, they're going through it in their own ways.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9 - part 10 - part 11

------------------

You painted small calculated strokes of warm blues and vibrant pinks. No design or carefully articulated picture simply two beautiful contrast colors dancing around each other. You keep on at this for what feels like minutes but ends up being hours. As you mix the two colors in the corner of the canvas and watch the purple hue they create, the sun also greets the ceiling in John's room. It startles you at first then you realize at least you made it through the night. You sit back yawning quietly, your eyes finding their way to John's sleeping form.

“I can feel it when you stare.” you smile softly, something that comes naturally at the sound of his voice.

“That's why I do it.”

“Yeah?” he asks, turning on his back before reaching to prop a pillow up behind his head.

“Yeah.” he admires through his sleepy gaze. You look sad, it fucking kills him. His head then turns further to the left to catch a glimpse of your work.

“Looks nice, just color though?” he asks in a whisper.

“Yeah I don't know, it just felt right.” you shrug, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Come ere’” he says, reaching out to you and lifting the covers.

You stand carefully placing the brushes and pallet onto the floor furthest from the bed before crawling in beside him. He smells of sleep and john. It's a heavenly scent, something close to pheromones it draws you in so close that you want to crawl inside his skin.

“You know i’ll miss you just as much, I fear even more actually.” he rubs a comforting hand over your back as his deep voice reverberates in his chest.

“Impossible.” you muster up trying to keep your voice from shaking.

“Only impossible thing is making this easy,” he admits. He feels the stutter in your breath as you try to keep yourself from crying. This is scary, scarier than eight guns being pointed at his chest and head. Death doesn't scare John Price, hurting you does.

“When I return we should go on a vacation somewhere on the coast.” 

“We should.” you look up at him and his too perfect lips and too perfect nose and eyes. 

“Don't look at me like that.” 

“Like what?” you say in an innocent tone.

“Like you’re trying to tell me you’ll be my destruction.” you laugh, laying your head on his chest hearing the quick pace of his heart beat.

“You should rest your eyes for a little.” he says worried about the fact that you slept for less than four hours last night.

“Will you stay with me?”

“Always.” he says, running his thick fingers through your hair and down your back. His ways of comforting you are more physical he thinks he knows how to use his body more than his words so he smooths the wrinkles in your bedtime shirt as in to say ‘i’m here for you’ and he swipes the hair out of your face to say ‘don’t worry your pretty head’ and squeezes your bum to say ‘i’m a man of morals, but still a man’.

—------

“Wake up love.” John says softly into your hair before leaving a kiss on your forehead. You groan in annoyance and feel the smile that now rests on his lips.

“What? it's nearly noon and your phone is buzzing in the kitchen.” your eyes slowly open as you flip to face the opposite way.

“How can you even hear that?” you say in a groggy tone.

“I’m not that old.” you laugh smacking at the hand that squeezes your hip.

“You know that's not what I meant.” you say sitting up slowly stretching as your arms rise to the ceiling. 

“You’re unbelievably gorgeous, how’d I get so lucky?” you turn your head to look at him, a rosy blush on your cheeks.

“Oh stop being such a flirt.” you say getting up from the bed and heading out of the room.

“So you just leave me here.” he slightly shouts from the bed. He hears your footsteps halt and turn around. You walk back into the room giving him a quick kiss then pulling him up with all your might.

“There you go.” he says standing on his feet.

“I forgot you need assistance to get out of bed.” he laughs from deep within his chest pulling you back against his front to kiss at your neck. You two walk down the hallway, he stops in the kitchen and you leave to go search for your phone in the living area.

“Aha here it is.” you say holding the small device up in victory. It strikes his heart here and now that in less than another twenty four hours his morning will look nothing like this and the sound of your laugh will be mere motivation.

You make your way back to him dialing back the call from this morning which to no one's surprise is your sister. You gleefully sing a goodmorning into the phone knowing full well that it's the afternoon.

He starts the coffee pot before giving you another quick kiss and heading into his office. It's only then he lets a tear slip, a foolish show of weak emotion, but it just happens to be from the strongest feeling he has ever encountered, love.

Its soul gripping and head spinning. It makes his heart mush, you make his heart mush yet his will strong. You’re a distraction but one he gladly invites into his already busy mind. You poke and prod at a military machine, you’re everything he’s prayed for and more than he ever expected. You even scare him.

“John?” you knock for the fifth time a little concerned.

“Yes darling, come in.” he says quickly, clearing his voice.

“Are you okay?” you ask, holding a warm cup of coffee.

“Yes, just thinking.” you set it softly on the coaster you had given him when you realized the water stains popping up all over the surface.

“Thankyou.” you nod, reaching your hand out to cup his chin. You give him a slow soft kiss, one on the lips then one to his cheek before leaving.

You’ve noticed when he works he tends to be more serious and quiet therefore you don't think too much but that doesn't mean it's not resting in the back of your mind. You shut the door softly and go on about your day.

—-------

just a glimpse into their relationship before John departs.

i've missed you guys terribly sorry for my long absence<3

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppuff @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @Dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe @spyderdoll @angels-gonna-play @viisgrave @lieutenantlashfaz @sunndust @beckythecatqueen-blog @aoioozora @o-birdseed-o @mothmothmothmothmothmoth @ihateuguys @oversensitivitea @spicyspicyliving

[dovveri]

misunderstandings

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 ▸ part 2 ▸ part 3 ▸ part 4 ▸ part 6 ▸ part 7

synopsis: y/n watches the most recent episode of the bachelorette and is met with something she doesn’t like. sana also seems to be angry for whatever reason and it builds up into a big argument at the end of the night.

warnings: sex! overstimulation, fingering, scissoring, oral sex, degradation, choking, cursing

w/c: 7.1k

a/n: soooo sorry for the delay this will probs be my last update for a while bcs finals season is driving me up a wall (if u see me post another story or part its bcs im actually not studying and u should yell at me for it) i lwk hate the pacing of this chapter i feel like its everywhere but hey! we got some smut!

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the backlash wonsik gets online is more than satisfactory. apparently, with all the evidence piled up against him, he would most likely be sent away for the rest of his life. which is disgusting to think about, how much crime do you have to commit to get a life sentence? you try to shake those thoughts as you watch the most recent episode with the leftover contestants while sana’s on her individual date as usual. it was tradition now, even more so as the pool of contestants gets smaller and smaller.

after your day off, things had gotten right back to normal.

sana went on a solo date with jacky. good thing it was jacky too because they had the famous ‘conquer a fear’ date. who knew big, australian jacky was afraid of balloons. and in typical bachelorette fashion, producers came up with a romantic hot air balloon date for 5am in the morning.

costume designers had rushed into your room at 4am, turning on all the lights and pulling sana from your arms, not even casting you a second look now that they were used to seeing the both of you cuddled up and naked most of the time they had to come in and dress you.

you were barely conscious as they ran around frantically, pulling the covers over your head and groaning a little, trying to make yourself go back to sleep.

you’re sure sana didn’t feel the best either from the little grumbles and whines you can hear faintly as she struggles to keep her eyes open while makeup artists dab eyeshadow on her eyelids.

soon enough they're off and you drift back into sleep, only to be awoken a few hours later so you can get dressed and attend the group date for the day.

that was also pretty fun. everything was meant to be high-adrenaline, facing your fears, all that sort of stuff today. so the team had booked out a big amusement park and you all had free rein. it was also good because it meant you had a little bit more freedom, not everyone had to stick together so people ended up splitting naturally when they wanted to do different rides and you had even managed to sneak sana away from the cameras for a quick make out session in the toilets.

it was a pretty great day and would make for a nice and light episode after the mayhem that happened with wonsik. there was a rose ceremony as always but this time, only 2 people were eliminated. unfortunately you had to say goodbye to dae and nayeon, sana did say it was getting harder and harder to eliminate people because as the more time goes on, the closer you get, and when there's less people in the house, it also facilitates closer relationships. she had to eliminate those two simply because she felt her romantic connection with them wasn't as strong as it was with some of the other contestants. it was rough but that's showbiz.

after 2 more eliminations tonight, it would officially be the quarter finals meaning it would be time for sana to meet all of her last 4 contestants' families and close ones.

currently, you're enjoying an afternoon tea at the contestants' house. as usual, sana was on a solo date with jiwon but there wouldn't be a group date today because there wasn't enough time to film it. instead, the both of you were allowed a little sleep in after yesterday's rude 4am awakening, and a little more time in the afternoon to dress up before the rose ceremony tonight.

the episode had just finished with jacky and sana's date. jacky still won't go near a balloon and he's probably developed a fear of heights on top of that too now but at least it looked pretty on television.

you had teased him when the episode showed him nervously walking around and inspecting the hot air balloon before sana had to basically yank him into the basket. he had his eyes shut tight the entire time, holding on to sana for dear life while they ascended. it was a little cute when sana finally managed to get him to peek his eyes open once they reached their highest altitude, just in time to catch the sunrise, and in exchange for getting over his fear and not backing out of this date with her, she gave him a rose and kissed him on the cheek.

you heard afterwards from eunji that as soon as they touched back down he had jumped out of the basket and laid face down in the grass for about half an hour, just getting used to the feeling of being on the ground again.

they had caught a bit of him on the floor doing exactly that which was pretty hilarious because sana was crouched next to him, poking him and trying to get him to sit up but he just groaned and mumbled something incomprehensibly in response, his rose still clutched tight in his hand, stretched out in front of him.

they cut it off there though, maybe a little for jacky's reputation but you all knew how long he was there for.

after a short break where they show a few scenes of silly occurrences inside the house with the other contestants, and then finding out everyone was invited on the group date that day, except for jacky who was invited but ended up taking the rest of the day off to recuperate and basically laid in bed in the medical office, even skipping the rose ceremony since he already got his rose.

they shot everyone in the car on the way to the amusement park, asking the contestants what they thought was going to happen, if anyone was scared, trying to pull a few comedic clips together, all the anticipation scenes the audience needed to be excited for the date.

eventually, everyone's in the middle of the amusement park with sana and yourself waiting for them in casual clothes. you shift a little as you recall the way you had her gasping into your mouth and your hand up the blue polo shirt she’s wearing on screen only 20 minutes after the introduction and everyone had split off.

in the meantime, while the cameras were running around frantically trying to find sana, they had filled in the gaps with clips of the other contestants, you laugh when momo is practically dragged onto a rollercoaster by jihyo and jun, she’s kicking and screaming but they manage to strap her in and gesture for the roller coaster attendant to go. its one of those really fast ones where it goes from 0 to 100 in seconds so the force pushes all of them back against the seats, poor momo barely has the time to blink and then its over. she’s gasping with her eyes clenched shut while the other two are laughing and pulling her off and along to the next ride.

it’s great being able to watch what happened when you weren’t on screen, and also what sana was up to when you weren’t with her.

you laugh when they show all the contestants clambering onto the carousel, you had all taken some group pictures and some of them were more than silly.

eventually, you get to the rose ceremony, and just as you were on the night, your breath is taken away again with sana in a stunning red dress. she really nailed being on camera, her face was one that was meant to be on screen.

the night starts merrily, everyone's more of a family now, you’re all happy to drink and talk together, and it wasn’t so competitive to get time with sana anymore because there were less contestants.

you frown a little though when the camera shifts to sana and jihyo, they’re sitting very close in one of the more private rooms inside the house.

jihyo’s playing a joke and sana’s laughing, a little flushed, probably from the alcohol as she slaps jihyo’s arm lightheartedly. jihyo preens at the attention, grabbing another drink and offering it to sana who accepts it gratefully and takes a sip.

she hums in satisfaction before speaking up, “so you never did tell me how you broke up with that gym rat…”

jihyo’s laughing a little nervously, twiddling her thumbs a little, “right yeah… i just realised that i made the wrong decision. i was caught up in the newness of everything with him but after that got old, i realised i still loved-“

sana’s eyebrows are shooting up, she’s setting down her drink and clearing her throat.

“sorry.” jihyo flashes an apologetic look over at sana, but sana shakes her head.

“no no it’s okay. be as honest as you can, please. we’re both here because we’re looking for a relationship right? can’t do that if we have any skeletons still in the closet.”

jihyo’s smiling gratefully and then continuing, “he wasn’t it for me. that’s why i broke up with him. i’m sorry for the way i treated you sana, you didn’t deserve that, you never did anything wrong in our relationship and i never really gave you a reason to why we broke up. i hoped by coming on here i may be able to win back a second chance.”

sana hums again, taking a moment to think while jihyo nervously looks at her with wide eyes.

“jihyo… you hurt me a lot when you left.”

“i know! and i’m so so sorry for that! i never want to do that to you again, all i’m asking for is another chance sana.”

she’s shuffling closer, grabbing sana’s hands tightly and imploring with her eyes.

sana looks down at their hands together, taking a breath before looking back up, "look... i'm not going to lie to you... i never really did get over you completely."

what?

"and i wouldn't have kept you in here for this long if i wasn't curious about what you had to say and if i wasn't ready to give you a second chance."

what the actual fuck?

"it wouldn't be fair though. to the other contestants, y'know? if they knew you had a head start. and i admit i was avoiding you a little because i wanted to even the playing field and get to know everyone else first before revisiting this." she makes a gesture with her hands, signaling between the two of them. "so its nice to finally be able to sit down and get a clear answer about what happened in the past."

jihyo looks more and more hopeful as sana goes on, your hands only get tighter around the fabric of your pants. sana didn't tell you about this conversation last night. sana hasn't mentioned anything jihyo related. whenever you ask, she's always managed to change the conversation or misdirect you with the promise of sex. was this why? is this how she really felt about jihyo? did she think you would disapprove? well you do disapprove but that was besides the point.

all of the other contestants don't seem too shocked with this news. it's not too surprising though because they've all lived with jihyo and the one thing they all have in common is sana so there's no doubt they've all discussed each other's feelings for sana, and jihyo probably told them their history as well.

you're fuming though. you can't believe sana didn't tell you something this important. that you're finding this out along with the rest of the country when you were meant to be her best friend here, the one person who was supposed to know everything before everyone.

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the rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur. you can vaguely tell when someone comes up to you and tries to initiate or bring you into the conversation but your mind is swirling with information about sana and jihyo, their past interactions, whether you could decipher any of sana's feelings from observing her.

eventually, it's time for the rose ceremony again and you're still in your head about everything you thought you knew happened yesterday.

you have half the mind to pull sana aside and ask her about it but when you meet sana's eyes, she squints a little and looks away quickly with signs of a pout in her lip.

the night continues like this, the two of you stealing glances at each other only when you think the other isn't looking. when sana starts pulling jihyo aside though, you don't care if she sees the look of disbelief on your face, she doesn't seem to notice anyway, all cozied up to jihyo.

you're averting your head again and downing the rest of your drink in one gulp.

when it's time to read out who gets a rose and who's going home, you're stiff standing next to sana, she's purposely avoiding your gaze as well. the tension between you two was so thick jiwon had come up and asked if something had happened between you two. and technically nothing did happen so you don't really know why sana seems to be angry with you when you were the one who was hurt by yesterday's episode.

the ceremony is brief, you have to say goodbye to jun, and eunji unfortunately but you can barely give them a proper hug as you stare at jihyo who's now made the final four.

after your goodbyes you quickly make your way towards the car, tapping your foot impatiently while waiting for sana to finish saying her goodbyes so you could both go home.

unfortunately, that takes another 20 minutes and you're just about to tell the driver to leave without her when she's sliding into the car, still avoiding your gaze and sitting on the opposite end of the car. normally she's all over you, needing affection after a big day but now you're pretty sure if she moved any further away she'd be falling out the window.

that was fine though. it’s not like you wanted to have an argument with her while the driver could hear you anyway.

the car’s pulling in and she’s opening her door and stalking inside the house without even a second glance towards you.

what the fuck? why was she mad at you now?

you feel almost childish copying her actions and making sure to slam the door on the way in, but if she was acting like this for no reason that only infuriated you more.

you find her in the kitchen, tapping her foot impatiently and waiting for you to come in.

once you’re standing on opposite sides of the counter, you cross your arms and still. she’s leaning on the counter with her hands, staring you down. there was no way you were going to be the first to break. she was the one who had some explaining to do right now, not you.

sana's stubborn as well though, lips pursed and not backing down.

it goes on like this for a few minutes before you finally break, raising an eyebrow and asking coldly, "so do you have anything you want to say to me sana?"

sana scoffs, the tips of her ears red, "do you have anything you want to say y/n?"

"what? no! i don't even know why you're being like this right now! i'm the one who's been left in the dark here."

"oh you're the one who's been left in the dark huh? unbelievable that you're still lying to my face about this. is that how you really feel about her?"

"excuse me?! it doesn't matter how i feel about her! the whole issue is how you've been dealing with this situation!"

sana sneers, your voices getting louder and louder trying to top each other, "this again? seriously y/n? i'm my own person and i'm allowed to have opinions on who i like and who i don't like! if she's being weird or sneaky or whatever i'm going to call her out on it!"

you scoff, "yeah right. like you called her out on it last night? and tonight as well i bet. why did you take so long saying your goodbyes huh?"

sana goes beet red and you think you've got her, "what?! what are you talking about?! and i stayed behind to say proper goodbyes to everyone! not like you apparently who couldn't care less, you barely talked to anyone tonight, when jun, and eunji, who was one of your closest friends here right?! when they had to leave you didn't even look them in the eye when they hugged you!"

"riiiiiiiiiight and you expect me to believe that? you weren't cuddling up and getting a quickie in before you had to go right?"

"what?! what are you talking about y/n?! quickie- what?"

"with jihyo! you stayed behind to talk to her didn't you!?"

"what?! well yeah i did but what does jihyo have to do with any of this?"

"what?! i've been talking about jihyo this whole time what do you mean?"

she's slipping something out of her suit pocket and sliding it across the counter to you. your phone.

"are you fucking serious y/n? you've been talking about jihyo this whole time? what the fuck? why the fuck are you suddenly bringing her up? you're the one who's been going behind my back getting all flirty and friendly with miyeon! after you told me you were just friends?! calling each other babe and sweetie and honey in your texts, how the fuck did you even get her number anyway? how long have you been talking to her huh? how long have you been fucking me while talking to someone else?"

you're scrambling for your phone, unlocking it and scrolling to your messages with miyeon. fuck. sana must have read everything. you don't even remember leaving your phone behind but it must have been with her since the morning. you scroll down the texts and see the most recent messages miyeon has texted you today and you find that sana has been replying to her.

"are you serious sana?! why the fuck did you go through my phone?"

sana turns her head at that, pouting a little, "i didn't mean to! she just kept on texting and i thought it must have been something important if your phone kept going off so i just went in to make sure everything was okay! how was i supposed to know you were basically sexting her behind my back!?"

"we were not sexting oh my god sana! miyeon is my friend we're just friends!"

"why have you been keeping this from me then?! you must like her or something then don't you?!"

"what?! no! and don't talk to me about keeping secrets right now sana!"

"what secrets have i kept from you?!"

"hello?!" you're waving your hands around frantically, "the whole jihyo situation?! why didn't you tell me you never got over her?"

"i never got over- what?!"

"you said so last night! on national fucking television! don't play dumb with me right now sana, and don't try and change the topic on me!"

"i never said that! are you being serious right now? jihyo and i split and it took me a while but you were there for it all! you saw me at my lowest and you helped build me back up! i am over her!"

"why is she in the final four then?"

"oh my god y/n you cannot seriously still be talking about jihyo! i'm over her! the producers wanted her to make it to the final four because they thought they could add some drama in during the home visits or whatever! jihyo and i talked about it last night and i told her why she was still here because i didn't want to keep leading her on! that's why i stayed for longer after the rose ceremony, i just wanted to check on her and make sure she was okay with all of this because i still care about her! i loved her at one point in my life!"

"that's not what i saw in last night's episode!"

"what?!"

"yeah! you and jihyo were all close and snuggly and she told you she still loved you and you said you were going to give her a second chance!"

"y/n i never said any of that." the rage has lifted slightly now, replaced with confusion.

you're breathing heavily, tired from arguing, you and sana had more fights these few weeks that you've been filming than you've had your entire lives together.

you tap out of your messaging app, going to tiktok and searching up last night's bachelorette episode, scrolling past all the funny jacky moments and amusement park shorts, trying to find the part where jihyo and sana were talking. someone had to have posted about it.

"are you serious right now? are you fucking texting miyeon while we're talking?"

"what?! no! sana i told you miyeon and i are just friends! i'm trying to find a clip of you and jihyo last night to show you what i'm talking about!" you find one then and quickly hold it out for sana to see.

she watches the clip replay a few times while you wait defiantly.

after the seventh replay you take your phone back, sighing when you think she has nothing to say for herself.

“y/n…”

“want to explain yourself now? anything else you wanna divulge while you’re at it?”

“what? no y/n i didn’t say any of that. they edited that together. i didn’t say any of that to jihyo i promise.”

you look at her in confusion, looking back to your phone, and then back to her.

“i did pull jihyo aside and we did talk but i never told her that i didn't get over her. y/n you have to believe me baby i- i can call the producers right now, they'll clear everything up." she's reaching for her phone, but the immense relief that she doesn't still have feelings for jihyo washes over you and brings you to action. moving around the counter and taking her phone from her and wrapping her in a hug.

she stills against you, and you're both surprised when you feel your own tears falling down your face, the tension of the night finally getting to you.

"y/n..."

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry i do believe you. this all seems so silly now i hate when we fight. i overreacted with the whole jihyo thing and it could've been solved so easily if i'd just talked to you instead of..."

sana softens against you, wrapping her arms around your waist and carding a hand through your hair. "it's okay baby. i'll talk to the producers tomorrow and make sure they don't pull anything like that again. and after the home visits i promise jihyo is the one who'll be going home."

you sniffle a little, "you don't have to do that for me sana. i swear i was just being..."

"hmm?"

"i don't know i'm tired sana. can we go to bed?"

she hums against you, pulling you both towards the bathroom for your nighttime routines. once you're done, you're climbing into sana's bed and picking up your phone again, scrolling back to your messages with miyeon while waiting for sana to finish her routine and join you.

y/n: heyy sorry i just got my phone back, sana's had it the last few hours because i left it behind so if i seemed weird over text it's because she was messaging you

miyeon: oh it's okay! i did think you sounded a bit off but i just chalked it up to u not feeling well or something. was sana mad when she found out we were texting?

y/n: 😂 how did you know?

miyeon: well i was on the receiving end of her jealousy when she texted me today so that was one clue 😂

y/n: jealousy?

suddenly your phone starts vibrating and miyeon's name flashes across the screen. you pick up hesitantly, "hello?"

"y/n! hey! it's good to actually hear your voice again!"

you chuckle a little, "you too princess. what's up?"

"nothing really, i just wanted to see where your head's at with sana now."

"what do you mean?"

"remember the conversation we had the night i got kicked out? while you were drunk?"

you squint a little, shuffling around in the sheets, "kinda... why?"

"i noticed the way you looked at her, the way you talked about her, even on the first night i think the reason why no one suspected that you weren't just a regular contestant was because i thought, we all thought you also felt the same way we did for sana."

"w-what?"

"you might not have realised it... but i think you were beginning to see it when filming started. do you get jealous when you see sana with the other contestants?"

"i- well- i mean i kinda just thought i was friend jealous though. or like that i just wanted the best for her which was why i was so harsh on contestants in the beginning."

"the way you talk about her over text sounds like its more than that y/n."

"i don't- what- i'm not jealous-"

you barely register that sana's finished with her routine now, sliding into bed next to you and cuddling up immediately. "what are you jealous about?"

you freeze, looking at her like you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar in the middle of the night.

"is that sana?" you're broken out of it quickly when you hear miyeon's voice over the phone.

sana bristles though, moving away from you and frowning, "are you on the phone with miyeon?"

"i- yeah-"

sana's snatching the phone out of your hand instantly, bringing it up to her ear and speaking into the microphone with a cold sneer, "yes this is sana. can i help you?"

you can't hear miyeon respond but the way sana's speaking sends a lightning rod of arousal down your spine. your mind is still hazy with what miyeon's suggested, and you're thinking about how you hated seeing sana kiss wonsik, how blinded you felt when you thought sana still liked jihyo, what could this mean? how long have you liked sana for? has it always been this way?

you don't realise that sana's features have become less defensive as she talks to miyeon, almost apologetic even when she settles back down next to you, humming in response to something miyeon's said over the phone. she's within proximity again that you can make out miyeon's voice.

"-but i hope you've been doing well and taking care of yourself with all the craziness that comes along with filming."

"yeah thank you miyeon. really. and again i'm so sorry for all the misunderstandings and i hope you know that eliminating you was definitely a mistake and it was very short-sighted of me but i'm glad that we've finally had a chance to talk where i'm not completely hostile to you."

you can hear the airy giggle of miyeon over the phone, "of course! all the best with the rest of the season sana. maybe we'll see each other on the other side."

sana smiles, "definitely. goodnight miyeon!"

she hangs up and hands your phone back to you, going right back to cuddling as if nothing had happened.

you're trying to pick out what part of that conversation that you overheard bothered you when it hits. "eliminating miyeon was a mistake?" was this the jealousy again?

"weren't you the one saying that?" sana raises an eyebrow at you, brushing her fingers over your side.

"well- i-"

she's giggling now, "i'm just kidding. miyeon just put to rest everything that was on my mind so i have nothing to worry about. i'm sorry for overreacting when i found out you were texting her. you're allowed to have friends, sorry i was trying to micromanage that."

"what was on your mind?"

"hmm y'know... you mostly."

you whine, hitting her lightly while she laughs at you.

"she told me you were just friends and she never meant to make it seem like it was anything else. she also helped me... come to terms with a few things so i'm actually very grateful for that."

"what things?"

"so many questions y/n. are you worried i'm about to steal her away from you?" sana teases.

"what? no! stop teasing-"

she grins, poking your cheek, "i'm keeping that to myself for now okay? i'll probably tell you one day. just not today."

"why not?"

"just because." she smiles, "now let's sleep."

you grumble a little, confused at what miyeon could have told sana, confused with what miyeon told you. there was one thing you did want to test out though...

you lean in quickly and capture sana's lips, taking her a little by surprise but she's quick to reciprocate, closing her eyes and kissing you back.

you're aggressive, climbing on top of her quickly and licking into her. you're trying to figure out if kissing her made you feel anything more. anything that could clue you in on your true feelings for her.

she's breaking away from you panting though, pushing you back slightly when you try to chase after her again, "woah y/n baby baby slow down- what's got you all in a rush?"

your eyes are dark as you look down at her, friends don't normally feel like the world would end if they stopped kissing right? you needed to be back on her, in her, needed to feel her around you, needed to taste her, needed to memorise every single sound she made, you needed her. that was more than just lust right?

"just- just need you please-" you're leaning back in, almost begging.

"no- no y/n stop. tell me what's going on, you're not normally like this."

you groan, head falling to her shoulder, slumping against her. "something stupid miyeon said..." you mumble into her shoulder.

"what did she say?"

you huff against her, "that i had feelings for you."

you hear the gasp sana lets out, her hands at your waist tightening their hold and you groan into her, grinding down a little at the feeling.

she stills you though, hands sliding down to grip your hips, "stop that." her voice is harsh, and you're reminded of the way she talked to miyeon over the phone, all cold and annoyed. it only makes you drip more at the tone of her voice and you whimper a little.

"do you?"

"do i what?" you're distracted, wanting only to kiss her again.

"do you have feelings for me?"

you sigh, "don't know- that's what i'm trying to figure out."

"how are you trying to figure it out?"

"kissing you. touching you. seeing if all of it made me feel something more."

"something more?"

"i don't know. something other than horny."

sana hums before finally loosening her grip. "okay. try it. just promise me you'll tell me what you think afterwards?"

you're quick to latch onto her lips again, mumbling yes and thank you into her.

she bucks her hips up against you and you moan. she was finally giving into her feelings and letting you do what you wanted, expressing herself freely.

“can you- mmf- can you-“

“what what is it baby? what do you need?”

“can you- be mad at me?”

she’s kissing down your neck, nipping slightly as you grind down into her, “i’m not mad at you. we talked about this just then baby.”

“no- i need- can you pretend to be mad?”

she’s licking up to your ear, “i don’t understand baby. can you elaborate?”

“f-fuck sana- can you- just imagine i did like miyeon and i wanted to fuck her-“

you’re scared you said the wrong thing and ruined the mood when she stills under you. then all of a sudden she’s rolling you over and straddling your hips, lips and teeth back at the sensitive parts on your neck. “you like it when i’m mad?”

“g-god yes sana please-“

“whore. you want me to mark you up? make sure everyone knows your mine? mine to ruin?”

“yes yes sana please-“

you moan when you feel her sucking at your collarbone, intending on doing exactly that.

"off." her hands are at the bottom of your shirt tugging, and you scramble up, almost knocking your forehead against hers in haste, you'd laugh but you were so pent up you couldn't think about anything other than her fucking you all night long.

her hands are cold when she slides them up your stomach, cupping your tits and you shiver at the feeling.

"trying to piss me off on purpose bringing up her name into this hm? after we just made up too." she squeezes and you gasp into her, nipples hard against her palms as she runs a thumb over the tip.

"think my pretty baby's going to come for anyone else?" she circles a nipple leaving you twitching, "i'm going to ruin you so that everytime you even come close to coming in the future, you'll only be able to think about me."

she's licking a trail down the middle of your chest, before sucking marks into the sides of your breasts, avoiding your nipples, only tracing them lightly with the tip of her thumb.

you're squirming around under her, begging and crying, eyes clenched shut, hand drifting down towards your folds, trying to alleviate some of the pressure that's built up.

she snatches your hand quickly and pins it above your head, "don't even fucking think about it."

you whine under her, trying to pull away from her grip but she has you completely under her control.

"don't do that baby. you asked for this didn't you? you're going to be a good girl and take it now." her lips come back down on your other tit, sucking and licking again, you're grinding up into nothing, stuck with the feeling of your own sticky arousal.

"p-please sana need- please- more-"

"what do you need baby? this?" she takes a nipple into her mouth then, sucking gently and flicking over it with her tongue, then popping it out of her mouth, "or this?" a hand trails lower, thumbing the waistband of your pyjama bottoms. "maybe this?" a knee comes up then, pressing right where you need her most and you’re moaning against her.

"g-god sana- fuck- all- all of it- god i need all of it-"

"be more specific sweetie. you can do it. c'mon now."

"f-fuck need you to fuck me like you said you would. need to feel your fingers inside me, your mouth wrapped around my clit, your hands gripping my ass so hard it'll leave behind handprints. just need you sana please- please-"

"mmm that's a good girl. begging for me like the slut you are. because you were so pretty i'll give you that. but you gotta talk me through it okay? if you stop i'll stop and i'm going to go fuck myself in your bed and leave you here for the rest of the night."

you whimper, nodding your head.

"words baby."

"yes, yes yes god please just-"

she smirks and then she's back at your nipples, fully sucking on them now and pulling your bottoms off along with your panties, immediately swiping a finger through your wetness. the sudden change from feeling nothing to feeling everything be stimulated was almost too much but also exactly what you needed.

"god sana please- inside- need you inside."

she's pushing one finger in and you feel yourself clench around her, already so close, desperate for her. suddenly you're remembering your actual task, but before you can formulate another thought she's pulling out and thrusting back in with another finger.

"god you're so wet for me baby. how long have you been thinking about this hm?"

"i- fuck- i'm never not thinking about you sana."

sana hums, keeping a slow, languid pace, "is that helping with your little mission tonight?"

"i- w- fuck sana faster please-"

"answer the question first."

"f-fuck i- i don't know- i c-can't think- please-"

she's pulling out and removing herself from you so that none of your skin is touching anymore.

"now? now can you think?"

"sana please fuck- yes! yes it's helping everything is helping please just need you back-" you're making grabby hands at her, trying to pull her back so you can feel her against you again.

she obliges, pushing back into you and humming, "that's a good girl."

"thank you- god sana- thank you- mm fuck thank you-" you're babbling, barely making sense when she speeds up, curling her fingers inside you just the way she knows you like, and rubbing her thumb along your clit each thrust inside.

soon enough, you're coming around her, her name and curses spilling out of your mouth but she's not done. she's crawling down your body, marking almost every inch of skin she can get her mouth on, and then latching onto your clit and sucking, fingers still pounding into you.

"f-fuck! sana! 's too much! f-fuck-"

she only hums against you, the vibrations against your clit only tightening the coil in your belly once more and the overstimulation is too much and you feel yourself coming again.

she's pulling out and you think she's finished but she flips you onto your stomach, slipping a pillow under you to lift your ass up, hands gripping the cheeks and spreading them apart, just like how you had begged her to. but then her fingers are prodding at your entrance again and she slides in, and this angle is so much deeper and you cry out, muffled against the sheets, trying to squirm away from her but she's got your ass right where she wants you.

she's leaning down, pushing in and out of you again, you can feel her chest against your back, the fact that she's still wearing her top fleetingly crosses your mind but you can still feel her hardened nipples against your skin, you arch back into her.

"my baby's not done yet. you're going to give me another one. and another one. until you've finished your little experiment right?"

you're sobbing into the sheets, the delightful mixture of pleasure and pain running through your body, your hyperaware of every single movement, every single place your skin touches, every breath she takes as she ruts her fingers into you.

you feel your third orgasm coming up when a hand is snaking a way back up your body, pinching roughly at your nipples before closing around your throat. you gulp and clench even harder around her fingers when she squeezes her hand lightly, moaning your approval.

"yeah? you like that slut?"

"y-yes o-oh god fuck- sana- fuck-"

she's squeezing tighter now and the pressure is perfect, the lightheadedness from the cutoff of oxygen combined with the overstimulation and you're coming again, thrashing into her as she releases you slowly, heaving in air as specks of black dot your vision.

you feel almost numb when she slides the pillow out from under you, turning you slightly so she can kiss you gently, and you moan at the taste of yourself on her tongue.

she's slipping a leg between yours when you realise that she's taken off her bottoms, and you gasp when the feeling of her wetness glides against your clit.

you whimper against her lips, "sana..."

"shhhh baby one more."

you're helpless against her, whining and pushing yourself into her, relishing the way her breath catches and she moans when your clits drag along each other. she's got one hand at your tit again, pinching a nipple and you need to feel more of her so you slide a hand up her top, grasping at her breast and moaning when she rocks against you just a little harder at the feeling.

your lips never leave each other, even when you're so blissed out you're just panting into her mouth, rutting against her. you're not even thinking straight when you mumble the words, slurred together and mixed with curses, but sana still catches it. "i love you."

she stops immediately, leaving you humping her like a dog, panting into her wondering why she's stopped.

she's gripping your hips, stilling you, eyes wide, "what did you just say?"

"i love you sana fuck- please- please let me come again please-"

her eyes study you, half-dazed, and then suddenly she's rutting against you again, your hands tighten around her tits just to be able to hold onto something because she's pushing against you and you're so close and her hands are basically moving your hips against hers without you even doing anything, she's moaning into your mouth, caught in her own pleasure and it's all too much when you feel her tighten her legs around you, coming with a whine and shaking, you come again, eyes closing and feeling the wave of pleasure wash over your body, twitching lightly against her in the aftershock.

when you pull apart your legs are sticky and filthy and hers aren't much better, stained with your essence, you can't even open your eyes, just letting her plant light kisses across your face and neck, holding her against you and learning to breathe again.

when she kisses your eyelids you manage to peek open, staring at her in wonder.

"did you mean it?" her eyebrows are slightly furrowed, hair sticking to her forehead, bottom lip protruding a little in a pout.

you were overcome with pleasure and overstimulation, but you remember everything you said. "i did. i love you. i'm sorry it took this long to realise it."

she sighs, eyes tearing up, "i love you too idiot."

"what about the season?"

"we'll figure that out later. let me clean you up and we can cuddle and sleep?"

you hum, whining when she leaves you to grab a damp towel, missing her warmth already. it felt painful to be without her. every second you spent apart, you were thinking about her, you can't help but laugh at how stupid you've been. you've been in love with sana for the better half of your life, you were determined to make it up to her. to show her just how much you loved her. just how much you needed her in your life.

you smile happily when she comes back, bringing her into a sweet kiss and letting her wipe at your legs. you were so, utterly, in love with her, and you finally realised it.