#Anyway this video killed me 🫠

[crystalprism]

In Germany we say Hexenkessel. Dat war'n Hexenkessel!

[noondefensesquad]

omg you saw it too!! Can you give us a detailed review too pretty please? But if you prefer not to, I totally understand!!

unfortunately my memory sucks and i saw it over a week ago at this point so i'll try my best 😅

i was sitting in row N so closer to the back and there were two people with ipads taking notes on things to change which was cool because im nosy. however, they didn't make a lot of notations and from what i could read, it mostly had to do with lighting so i don't expect much to change when i go see it again in a few weeks.

i love jamie's work and have seen his productions before but was still taken aback by the darkness at the beginning of the play. you can see tom on the screens (i loved the usage of cameras and screens so they could have full use of the theater) as he's backstage and the heavy breathing put me on edge because i was like

then tom sat at the front of the stage and cried and because he is also such a pretty crier and maybe that's my own weird kink i had the biggest smile on my face. however, the girls in front of me were about to cry with him 😂 tell me this didnt do something for you!

but when fran came out, the people around me sat up. she's phenomenal and i want more people to talk about her performance because she's the star of the show. the way she delivers her lines is so funny and they have a great balance of making it feel current while delivering the original iambic penameter.

then as soon as fran and tom came face to face, the audience audibly reacted. not loud enough to be distracting but enough that you know they were into it. i was in love

lots of shakespeare stuff happened, tom took off that sweatshirt and came out in that vest and multiple people gasped. you can see his abs through the shirt 🫠 and when the nurse squeezes his arm and basically says juliet i get it, that line got a huge laugh. my internal monologue was just

this is a married man this is a married man this is a married man

and then intermission came and i talked to the people around me and this was the conversation

fran is so pretty, talented, funny, amazing, we love her

tom's haircut

tom's arms 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

is zendaya the jealous type or would she say yes that's my man (i had to pretend to be very normal about this conversation and said absolutely the jealous type i have no sources 👀)

how do we get to the stagedoor in time to see them (the amount of texts i got about those videos because i am RIGHT THERE with the most in love expression on my face)

the chemistry is unbelievable and we didn't want the show to be over

somehow we made it to the end of the play and i'll be honest, the second half is my least favorite part of the play so it was also my least favorite to watch. i love how silly and romantic the first half can be and the second half is more doom and gloom. i will say, when this exchange happens

"will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?"

"shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?"

my friend and i audibly said "oop" and that got laughs in our section. the best thing about this play was their delivery and when i read r&j, i couldve never imagined how much fun it could be coming from jamie.

anyway, at the end, we rushed out to the stage door and it was insane to see how the street cleared when tom left. and security was the best. really such sweet guys and if you see them being mean to people, they spend the whole time giving instruction is the friendliest way so those people deserved it.

the we got to speak with fran who is the sweetest and signed my customized r&j book with her face on the cover and my programme

can't wait to go see it again in a few weeks. i wish i could have every second imprinted on my brain

[aechlys]

Over 13,000 showed up for the live stream this morning/evening, and I was too goddamn slow and sleepy to screencap the score board bit for one ofHide's songs im so mad lol 🫠🫠🫠😂

I have been waiting waiting waiting to listen to this album till I had it in my hands but this was certainly the best way to do it- the way it premiered in Japan. So I'm very glad this was my first experience with it.

There is SO much to unpack.....so much that I strongly believe we as fans will never actually understand everything they've hidden in this album because it feels extremely personal, between just the 5 of them. Even the videos had tantalizing tastes of things.

Atsushi's hands were everywhere. In the static portion I made out his distinct shape even. Not to mention the track he is clearly singing on as if being transmitted via radio from the other side.

He was never forgotten for a second.

In fact the whole album appears to be about him, and then about all of us, band included, coping with the magnitude of the life we got to experience with him and also the bottomless pit of loss in his sudden absence.

I don't know. So much. Too much. We will never know all of it and that in and of itself kind of breaks me. But I will take what we get given. As Hide went out of his way to tell us in english, "Nothing to worry about, Just the beginning, A long way to go!" As I saw someone else briefly mention here (I was avoiding spoilers but caught this commentary), this track seems to be directly aimed at us, the overseas fans. I agree with that statement a lot after hearing that track. As much as the fc staff doesn't give two shits about the international fans abroad, the band clearly does as much as they can and that is at least comforting. Idk probably a strange place to bitch about something like that but I think the timing of the reminder was meaningful.

Anyway, I look forward to picking this album apart someday. I dunno when, but...someday. I'm gonna try to get a little bit more sleep in now. I'm grateful I got up to watch this.

EDIT: Someone posted it!!!!!

I know everyone's going to pick apart the numbers now trying to see if they mean anything. 😂💗 And yes that is "Jupiter" lil game sprite Hide was running to. That whole video killed me.

[seongminiz]

oh jeez😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 /pos i’m so dizzy at both scenarios omgg first off. the mattwoong sandwich plot with jiwoong filming u and matthew (his little sluts) and using u like that is so insane like imagine free use with dilf country club owner jiwoong like that?? like when he’s bored he seeks u both out and brings you together to “entertain” him like ur his toy barbie dolls .. this is getting so depraved but like fuck it i like to think u both (u and matt) got urselves way in over ur heads with ur dirty little games and if it isn’t the consequences of ur actions…

idk if this is too dubcon.. but i kinda like the slight aspect of coercion in terms of wanting to please jiwoong to keep ur job/membership at the club? and how humiliating would it be if he exposed all the nasty things you’ve been up to while ur supposed to be on the clock… sigh. anyways.

and omg everything u said for angel demon jumil. i rly love the idea of them holding u ‘hostage’ and threatening u with ur life😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 they’d loovvee how pathetic u’d be begging them for their cum so u don’t die :( like jeez that’s fucked up but i love it :(((

and the concept of juyeon literally losing his wings to commit himself to pleasuring u. definition of a service top lol. i want them both to use me as a fucktoy so bad so this + monsterfucking is so crazy. like i can’t even put it into words omg ffff😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

also slight side note. idk if u watched any of the fatal trouble promotions for enha, but i’ve seen a few screenshots from the relay and heeseung’s abs peeking out at one point?? i need to ride him so bad it’s so serious.

ur mean dom hoon thoughts too😵‍💫😵‍💫 i want mean dom enha hyung line i want all 4 of them to keep me as a pet we’re seeing a recurring theme here :( and use me to their will, be so mean to me that i never leave subspace and just exist to please them :( vampire hyung line living in a victorian castle and keeping u to feed off of and use for their pleasure??? probably been done before. but that’s also a thought.

- 🧁 anon

aaaaaaaaaaa idk where to start with this im going crazy 😵‍💫

no bc fuckkk jiwoong using u n matt as his own free porn like (!? #+_. im malfunctioning ,, also as u said , him threatening to expose every little depraved thing you've done for him , having all of it on video knowing your perfect little princess who has everyone wrapped around her finger reputation could be ruined in a split second .. making u suck his dick n apologize when you try to be bratty n defy him , taking a video everytime (which means he has a lot of them since he still hasn't fucked the brat out of u n probably never will)

n yesss 🫶🏻monsterfucking🫶🏻 tbh ik i alr said this but i should write more of it !!!

yesss i've seen that 0_0 feeling very much insane .. not only thinking abt riding hee , but riding his abs ?!?? that makes me even crazier

osmdbgj vampire hyung line ,, it all started when jake planned to only feed from u like all the other humans they've fed from for years , but theres just something abt you that makes him want to bring u back home n keep u all to himself ..... you're not particularly against it once you've gotten over the initial fear of jake being able to possibly kill u whenever he wants , but he won't be able to keep u from the others for long , after all they can recognize humans from smell alone , n your blood's specifically is so addicting they'll all start using u to both feed from u n fuck u ..

also ik we were talking abt the whole hyung line but mannnn this is making me think of vampire sunghoon so much 🫠 save me ..

[sinnaminttoast]

We got a balance update and I’m here to give you my nonsensical commentary/thoughts on it

Oh boy am I ready/nervous for what awaits me in this video.

Will I have a nervous breakdown about the possibilities of what this video will contain? Maybe, but you’ll never know.

Anyways…onto my thoughts

Oh??? So smartass is gonna be caught up on what’s going on. Alright…I mean I think we only ever had Geordi’s reaction to magic so this’ll be interesting.

SMARTASS REMEMBERING THE CARDS THING 😭😭 oh they are…let me date smartass plzzz

LMAOOO OH THEY REALLY GAGGED HIM 🤭

Smartass just already knowing magic exists “like yeah…I know people with cool powers exist. So what?”

Yo if I was smartass and someone told me “this involves kidnapping and conspiracy..”

I’M…I’m not mentally equipped for this one Aar bear 😁✌️

Elliot and Smartass are both of my brain cells theorizing about what the fuck is going on.

Someone strong enough to sneak in and sneak out you say??? 🤨

I think I know of a STRONG stealth who can SNEAK around…👀

Not Asher catching strays for no reason. PAPERWORK IS UGLY OKAY?? I understand him.

“Or maybe he just got better at hiding it.” OKAY! Alright! That line right there….WOW OKAY! Let’s not even open that one because as someone who is anxious…😬 oh it’s rough. Let’s just say that line hit a little too close to home.

Okay me and Elliott can be anxiety buddies…

I know I can be unserious but let’s be serious for a sec.

It’s actually so amazing how Erik makes sure we remember how awful the tragedy of the inversion was. Yeah sure we had the inversion videos to guide us through it but even now Erik makes sure we know that it still affected people outside of those characters.

That it left the department in disarray and with people feeling completely lost about what had happened.

Was not expecting to hear a southern accent but I’m not mad.

I want to know how the department has been dealing with Closeknit …CAUSE NO SERIOUSLY! They literally just kidnapped someone 😭

Oh wow…I didn’t know you…okay mysterious agent tell us your violent fantasies of what you’d like to do with Close Knit.

EMOTIONALLY COMPROMISED?! 😦

Oh wow!

Elliott is gonna be sick y’all.

“I can’t lose them Aaron.”

So does Erik want me to jump off the edge rn?? /J

“They were so scared… in the dream. I tried to tell them what they had to do to fight it. I tried to help…but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything. I’m supposed to be able to protect them. Dreams are the one thing I’m good at. The one thing I know better than anything else…and I couldn’t help them.”

Send the flood. I’m being so serious.

ELLIE AND SUNSHINE I’LL GET YOU OUTTA THERE 🏃‍♀️💨

WELL THE MISSION HASN’T HAPPENED! According to the summit…Closeknit is still up and running so 🫠

THAT HE’S GONNA WHAT AARON??

I imagine that even though it is killing him to think about Sunshine…he needs them like the air he breathes.

(Yes I stole that from a Conan gray song and yes it hurt me to write that.)

“They were a good balance for one another.”

CAN YOOU LET ME BREATHE FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND??

I’ll go get Sunshine myself if no one else will!

And we end with a kiss and uncertainty

So that was the end of that video….

I usually end with a meme but how do I end this without furiously sobbing???

I really tried to be light hearted with this one BUT IT WAS A STRUGGLE TO NOT CRY!

When I catch you Closeknit…oh it’s gonna go down…ESPECIALLY YOU BLAKE😺

I’ll make him eat my foot 🦶 and I’m so serious

[therhythmafterthesummer]

Hello, Pretty nest anon!

Omg I didn’t realize you were maybe going to bless us with another drabble. No pressure, I am happy to wait for any and all installments of this series. (Btw I’m also the anon who sent video of Bin yelling to not propose 😅).

I also recently reread Herbie and 🥹😭🥲 my heart 💜 I can’t 🫠

I swear you reached into the deepest parts of my brain and put everything I need into all your fics. At this point I think I’ve read your entire master list

Also idk how I just put this together but you’re a ‘96 baby? We’re the same age!

Anyways thanks for writing and continue on knowing your simultaneously feeding my soul and killing me.

awww, same age besties~

god, i really want to write something with that scenario in mind sdjhfskdjfs i hope i get to do it. i'm resting a bit these days, but i'm sure the little lizard in my brain will start working overtime soon.

thank you for your kind words, bb. i really appreciate them💜💜💜💜 and i'm glad you enjoy my works enough to reread them

[comfortingevanbuckley]

The video of buck running in the other direction still doesn't make sense to me but anyway I think there's gonna be a tommy emergency 🫠 but killing him off seems so stupid to me for so many reasons, just break them up, why go into another grief spiral

Hey hey my pinned post still stands, no break up spec!

[secretstackofsin]

The rating and the author’s note already threw me into a cardiac arrest, what a way to goooo

First of all: name reveal!!!! I was confused for a hot second, like “there’s no way Frankie is with another woman imagining it’s her… right?” But that was just my dumbass exhausted brain, I only needed 3 seconds to realise Gabrielle is our baby 🥹

The whole chapter left me speechless, I just love how perfectly you paint a picture about their utter desperation and raw need!

How did they get here? Did something broke the dam or is this the direct continuation of the previous chapter? Gabrielle wears the same dress and they’re in the hallway so it’s definitely the same interaction where we left off last time. 👀 I just hope that we didn’t even miss a second because I’m GREEDY

He’s not asking you to bear the weight of this decision. He’s relieving you of it. He’ll carry it for you. - GOODBYE I perished 🥴

I know it’s silly but since the beginning of the story I was hoping for Gabrielle to acknowledge how Frankie’s body changed, especially his moustache and when you described the unfamiliar tickle I squealed a little (and I was cackling like an idiot reading her reaction to it)

I didn’t miss the phrase about fitting into each other like a solved puzzle 😩 The piece missing for 16 years is finally put into its rightful place, baby 😎

“Naked. Now.” His tongue hits the back of his teeth on the letter D, round and textured. So thick, you can almost touch it. It trickles inside your lower belly, shivers running down your sides from under your arms.  - HELLOOO you think I wouldn’t lose my goddamn mind over this? I reread it like 10 times… I can hear it in my mind, like I’ve just heard it a moment ago in a video or a podcast 🫠

Time has blunted the sharp edges of his silhouette, and his broad shoulders and tapered waist are an impressive sight to behold, one that has you thinking you might love his body even more than you did before. - yep, this was my undoing 🫠 I knew she would be even hungrier for him than before, and not only because of being depraved of him for 16 years, but come on… look at him… this mf only gets more attractive with time 😩

Don’t get me started about the smut, the dirty talk already made me melt in a puddle, and the rest is…. Phew, girl 💀 If you were sitting near me while I read you would know exactly where I was based the sounds and faces I made akdjsksjdka Their desperation feels like they’re racing with time to make up for those 16 years, and they kind of do 🥺 The dream will be over when the morning comes and they have to continue their life 💔

“No, it’s true,” he insists, and you see it in his eyes, the way he perceives you, and it’s the most beautiful you will ever be. - pleaseeeeeeee I’m already dead, stop killing me all over again!!!!

And then the angst was the last nail in my coffin, but I knew the night was supposed to end so I had tried to prepare myself for the next day 😪

Frankie’s survivor’s guilt makes me wanna cry, and the fact that his savour is the man he’s just betrayed must make it unbearable for him… or, it would if he wasn’t that crazy about Gabrielle, but this is going to bite him in the ass anyway, and I’m already so stressed over it 😖

Thank you for sharing this with us, this was everything and more than I hoped for 🥺💜

Pleased to meet you, chapter 16

Summary: Frankie's well-being your one and only concern, you've decided to go 'home' to Paris, taking your secret with you. Frankie doesn't quite agree...

Pairing: Frankie Morales x French fem!Reader (OFC)

Rating: Explicit 🔞🔞🔞🔞 (I blame the meds)

A/N: Please, be kind to my girl. She's had it tough all her life. I am so, so nervous about this one, it's hell. Thank you to every one who stuck with me (and them) this far, and for patiently waiting for my anxiety to lift and let me write again 🧡 Ily 🧡 Also, jfc they're filthy, I blame the meds. That shit is unbeta'd, you've been warned.

Word count: 6.5k (I blame the meds)

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Chapter 16: Plainsong

Once upon a time, there was an orange bedroom, its light kept burning through young lovers’ hearts, long after hurt and rain had turned it blue. 

Once upon a time, there was a fire escape, a bed with white linen, and a Brooklyn bathroom. There was a book, its title cast a spell; lips of red, purple bites, and golden hues. 

Once upon a time, there was him, and there was you. The outside world ceased to exist, only to better catch up with you.

—

“Stay,” Frankie says, his lips on your lips. His splayed fingers on the small of your back keeping you balanced, his gentle touch on your collarbone softly saying, “you are mine.” 

It would be so easy for you to exist solely between his two palms. It would make you happy and content. It could be home, to you. 

Exhaustion washes you over and drowns your mind. You raise on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace, letting his scent take over your senses, your bodies sealed together. The soles of your sandals hit the tiles with a two-tone clapping sound when he circles your waist and lifts you.   

He’s twice as massive as he once was, and it’s twice the safety to you. His large, open hand carefully cradling the back of your head, he holds you like a newborn baby, as if you were frail and fragile, as if you could snap in two, and you find it so fitting, for he’s truly the only one who could ever break you. 

Others have tried and failed. You’ve been shunned, abandoned and let down, but you kept slipping between their fingers like running water seeping through cracks, flowing, imperturbable, in one direction and one direction only: to throw yourself into the ocean of him. 

“I’ve got you, baby, let me–” Frankie pauses at your whimper, the term of endearment only ever carrying meaning in his low, husky baritone, “I’m here.”

The loud, violent beating of his heart rattles inside your chest like it was your own. 

“You got me,” you acquiesce. 

The slight release of your embrace signals him to loosen his hold. Your chest slides down along his, and the tiles feel cool under your bare feet. 

You should go now, you think. 

“I should go now,” you say, and he doesn’t answer, his face closed and sullen because he knows you’re right, you should leave now, this much the two of you can agree on, so when you press your lips to his, you’re not sure whether he reached for you, or if you reached for him. 

It’s a chaste kiss, for a last goodbye. Frankie can almost feel the rising wind blowing litters around you on a Brooklyn sidewalk, and inside him, the tightly sealed lid is fractured, the damage irreversible.

At the light, hopeless pressure from his lips, his body tensing up, you open up, your tongue seeking his. And he’s inside you instantly. 

That taste he’s been chasing through dozens of other women, that taste is on his tongue, at last, and he swallows it all, tugging you flush to his body with enough strength to shatter your bones. Frankie is done pacing himself, he will have you now, and he will eat you whole. 

His hand slides up to your nape, his fingers grabbing your hair and tilting your head back, exposing the line of your throat to his hungry stare, while you span your hands over his sides, around the breadth of his back, up to his shoulders where they find purchase. 

“Tell me to stop, Gabrielle. Ask me to stop now. Because I will not go back.”

So close you can taste the cold beer on his breath. So quiet you can still hear the echo of his words when he asked you to follow him all those years ago.

He’s not asking you to bear the weight of this decision. He’s relieving you of it. He’ll carry it for you. 

“I want you,” you answer again, always. 

His mouth crashes down on yours in a messy kiss, teeth colliding, lips reclaiming. 

You can’t breathe and it is fine, you only need to breathe through him, for now, his tongue swirling avidly around yours inside your mouth makes everything easy and right.

A commanding tug from his hand angles your face to the side and he deepens the kiss, his left hand travelling down to the swell of your ass, giving it a hard, possessive squeeze, and you moan against his lips before he swallows that too. 

And he hasn’t had his fill, not remotely, not even close. The urge to taste you everywhere else is overwhelming, so he trails down your neck, under your ear, licking and kissing and biting your soft skin. The unfamiliar, tickling prickle of his moustache sends your mind in a lewd spiral, and curiosity makes you moan again.

You think you might be dreaming. You think you’ll wake up alone in your cold, empty bed, but around you, everything feels so real. Could he be the one dreaming you?

Your touch wanders underneath his shirt, seeking out the heat from his skin, where it is raw and unfiltered by the cottony fabric, and the contact sets your insides ablaze, your entire body wanting more. Your fingers dig into the firm muscles, their tremor a mirrored response to the slick pooling down your core.

Frankie senses your panic the very moment you reach the lumpy stretch of skin below the left side of his rib cage. Your surprise is audible, muffled by the imperious, desperate press of his mouth over yours. His hold on you tightens, but you’re pushing him away with both hands. When he yields and lets go of you, he hasn’t given up yet, but the alarm that widens your eyes tells him he’s already lost this battle.

“What is it?” you breathe out.

“It’s nothing,” he lies in that steady, even tone he has learned to master a long time ago.

“It’s not nothing, let me see,” you insist, your own voice having gone up an octave.

He doesn’t budge, nor does he answer, frowning in his resolve, so you reach for his shirt, which only prompts him to take a step back. He’s stalling for time, ignoring your pleading eyes, knowing full well he’s only delaying the inevitable. In a moment, he’ll have you naked underneath him, nothing will keep that from happening, nothing but you could stop him. 

And you just might, if he tells you the full story behind that fucking wound. 

His mind is racing as he tries to figure out what would kill him faster, if you left now or after. If he has it in him to take that choice away from you.

“Does it hurt?” you ask in a softer voice, approaching him carefully.

His jaw doesn’t move as he answers, “No. No it doesn’t.”

“Let me see?” The inflection in your phrasing marks the question, but you’re already lifting his T-shirt with infinite care, your eyes on his face, trampling his defiance. He lets you pull it over his head, following your movement. 

The sight of him, standing before you bare chest, has you swaying on your feet, and you forget to breathe for a moment. Broader, it seems, than he used to be, radiating warmth, solid and reassuring. The passage of time hasn't altered the recollection you have obsessively cultivated through the years. This part of his body you have mapped so meticulously is more familiar to you than your own. The pattern of his freckles on his golden skin, the small, brown circles of his nipples, the oval mark on the curve of his left shoulder are the landmarks of your desire. 

Drawing in a shaky breath, you lower your gaze to the raised scar, a shade darker than the surrounding skin. You brush the tips of your fingers to it, careful but thorough, and you ask again, “Does it hurt?”

Frankie struggles to keep his eyes open, moving imperceptibly closer to your touch. It eases a pain he thought had been long gone. He breathes slowly, lowering his face, and when he speaks again, his tone has softened to match yours. 

“It doesn’t anymore.” 

“But it did?” you ask in a quivering voice.

“Just a little,” he lies again. You look up at him, and he can tell you know. 

“Were you in a hospital? For long?” 

“A few weeks.”

“And your sister–” Talking around the large lump in your throat makes your voice sound eerily unnatural, “did your sister come to visit?”

“She did. I wasn’t alone.”

Frankie gently pulls on your wrist to draw you near, and the urge to wrap yourself around his body crawls up your spine again. You recall a medieval French poem about honeysuckle that grows intertwined with hazel, and how both wither and die if they are separated, and your eyelids flicker under the weight of your impending tears.

“Hey, baby, look at me,” he asks, cupping your face, “look at me. It doesn’t hurt anymore, you hear me? Nothing does.”

“Nothing?” 

“Nothing.” His certitude is vertiginous. It takes down all of your fears, and leaves you with nowhere to hide. 

You should leave now. But you’ve been so cold, for so long. And he should let you go, but your skin is still vibrant under his palm. 

In a few minutes, your naked bodies will touch thoroughly and fit into each other like a solved puzzle and none of this will matter, sixteen years sucked into an obliterating vacuum, minced into jagged pieces and scattered into complete oblivion. 

Frankie undoes the shoulder bows of your dress one by one, the fluid fabric flowing down your naked breasts and he hisses through clenched teeth, as if through pain.  

You bask into the untamed and unrestrained want darkening his eyes and brightening his face, you’ve never known a hunger like his and between your shaky legs, arousal leaks into your sensible underwear.  

With a mind of reclaiming what is rightfully his, he reaches for your breasts, kneading the soft flesh with deliberate strength, his thumbs rubbing the rapidly hardening peaks of your nipples, and your skin breaks out in goosebumps. You cover his hands with yours, his grasp over you never strong enough. 

You can’t hurt me, not like this.

“Lift up your skirt, baby.” His low, hoarse command is punctuated by a hard pinch to your nipple. 

Your mouth goes slack and you exhale slowly, a pointless attempt at slowing down your frantic heartbeat and keeping your balance. You can’t think straight for how violently you want him everywhere inside and around you, but your hands diligently move down to your hips, grabbing the fabric of your dress and bunching it up in your trembling fists. 

His tongue peeks out between his parted lips, his palm on your inner thigh, burning its way up towards your mound and he cups you there, roughly, an appreciating hum rumbling from the depth of his chest when his fingers find the dampened fabric of your panties, pushing it against your entrance. 

“Naked. Now.” His tongue hits the back of his teeth on the letter D, round and textured. So thick, you can almost touch it. It trickles inside your lower belly, shivers running down your sides from under your arms. 

You sigh in relief, numb fingers fumbling with the thin zipper on your hip, struggling to work it open. Unbuckling his belt, his deft hands still when your dress pools down at your feet. 

“Yes,” he growls, grabbing you by the waist to pull you flush to his chest, and you think your skin might combust at the contact of his. Your feet shuffle on the hallway carpet as he walks you backward to his bedroom, his cock pulsating against your belly, his hungry mouth nibbling the lean column of your neck. 

He has you disoriented, moving too fast for you to register anything outside of his hands and his lips. When he releases his hold, you fall sitting on the edge of a large bed. Instinctually, you scoot to the middle of the mattress while Frankie toes off his boots and undresses to his black briefs. 

“That too,” he says, nodding at your panties, standing tall and mighty over you, palming his erection. You comply immediately, smacking your lips in hunger. Time has blunted the sharp edges of his silhouette, and his broad shoulders and tapered waist are an impressive sight to behold, one that has you thinking you might love his body even more than you did before. 

It’s calling to you, and you're calling to it. You’ve got new paths to map and years to erase, the kisses, sweat and come of women who should have been you but weren’t. 

He watches your gaze linger on the dip at the base of his neck before he takes off his briefs. You look so fucking pretty, and he can’t wait to make a mess of you. If there’s one thing he knows, one thing he’s never forgotten, it is how to undo you. 

Climbing on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, he positions himself above you on all fours. You reach for his hair, threading your fingers through the longer curls on his nape, these are new to you, you need the feel of it. 

“I don’t know–” he grunts in frustration, the ridge of his nose a drag over your temple, “I don’t know where to start, I want to open you on my cock but I want to eat you out before you taste of me.”

“Fuck me Frankie please,” you beg, bucking your hips upwards, his hard length sliding between your thigh. 

“Oh I will, baby, I will. I’ll fuck you until you can’t take it and then I’ll fuck you some more.”

You ruffle his hair in your reluctance to let go when he backs down and hooks his hands in the back of your knees, and when he spreads your legs open, when they open with a telling squelching sound, his eyes are alight with a fierce possessiveness, something dark and primal, something you’d be shrinking away from if this was any other man. 

But it’s Frankie. 

How many nights have you longed for his return? Never not waiting, dragging his absence beside you like a weighed shadow, wrapping yourself in your longing like a suit of lead. Like an armour. 

Tipping your head back on the sheets, you stare emptily at the ceiling, laughing without a sound, and for the first time since you stepped into his house less than half an hour ago, you take notice of your surroundings, of the luminosity. The only fundamental difference. It’s dusk, already. The setting sun casts a waning light through the bedroom curtains, and the room around you… it is blue. 

You gasp out of your thoughts at the drag of Frankie’s fingers along your slick slit; he’s teasing your empty cunt with the tip of them, directing your arching body like a conductor. 

Beads of sweat pearl on his forehead, his heart beats too fast in his ears. He can’t imagine ever wanting you as intensely as he wants you now, but he’s believed that before, nearly lost his sanity over it, and the attraction has never abated.  

Frankie bends down into you, and swipes a broad stripe through your folds, from hole to clit, with the flat of his tongue. The salty tang of you quakes his entire frame. He plunges his tongue into you and you choke on your moan, hand clasped over your mouth. 

He licks in leisurely, once, twice, before pulling out to ask you, “Lemme hear you, baby, you’ve no fucking idea how much I’ve missed you,” his words spoken straight into your cunt, where they belong. 

Your hand flies to his hair, harshly tugging his face back to your core and you feel his lips curl into a smile between your folds. 

He has just enough sense left in him to hook your legs over his shoulders, before his control gives out, before he gets lost in your taste. It is all that matters to him for now, his fingers digging into the dip of your hips, in a hold that is sure to leave your flesh bruised and mottled. 

He’s diving into you, drinking you up. His wandering days are over and you roll your hips into his mouth with increasing speed as the ridge of his nose rubs against your clit. 

The sounds filling the room are obscene, avid laps, rumbling grunts and high-pitched moans, and when he moves up to suck on your clit, because that’s what you like best, you get so close to come in his mouth. You’d warn him, but you know he can feel it too, his hands gripping you harder, until he suddenly pulls out and rasps, “not like this, around me.” 

You whine in frustration, but he unclasps your hands from his hair, crouching back between your thighs, and tension breaks through you in a breathless laugh, remembering your last night and wondering if the repetition is wilful or involuntary. 

Frankie quietly chuckles with you, sliding your body down the mattress and onto his lap, your back dragging on the sheet, your hair spread around your head like a dark halo, but his face drops and darkens when he lines up at your entrance. A droplet of sweat slides down his sideburns, and he asks, “You ready?”

Your laugh dies in a smile and a panting “yeah” is all you can provide, before he drives into you brutally. To the hilt. In one thrust. Your body pinned down by his hands on your waist, and you trash your head back at the blinding stretch with a cry, fingers scrambling over the sheet, a barely articulated string of “Thank you thank you thank you” spilling from you. 

Words are too small to express what he does to you. He’s rearranging you, putting everything back into place, annihilating all that came before him. 

He doesn’t move right away, he can’t, he might just lose his mind and dissolve into you. 

His eyes tightly shut, the crease between his brow deeper than it’s ever been, his grip loosens, and the palm of his rough hand comes to span the soft skin of your lower belly, where he’s sheathed inside you.  

“I can feel it. I can feel it, baby. Do you remember?”

“Yes Frankie, I remember everything.”

He bends down with fervour to cover your body with his, hooking your legs around his waist, and grinds down on you, both his hands hooked on your shoulders. You’re drowning in his musky scent, heat burning up your chest and neck, hitching your knees higher up on his sides, linking your ankles on his back. 

And when he starts fucking into you, he drills in with all of his strength, deep, rapid thrusts, barely pulling out, your tight cunt catching around the heft of him, his damp forehead pressed to yours, your body slippery with sweat, his, yours, and his words spill out into the blue twilight of the room, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry baby, I’m sorry.” 

Sorry for letting time and distance separate you, sorry for his waning faith, for all the other bodies, for not flying to Paris and laying the entire city to waste to find you.

Your nails break the skin of his back and you ask, “Harder, Frankie, I want it harder.”

He leans back immediately, briskly clutching your hips, rocking into you with a rage, narrow hips slapping your ass, and you dig your fingers into the muscles of his forearms for leverage, meeting him thrust for thrust, leaking onto his length at the sound of his growls. 

His damp curls form a halo around his face. Across his chest, a sheen of sweat glistens in the blue hues of the late evening light. Blue, your never-ending, cold and lonely nights. Blue, the strangers’ bodies that never felt right. Blue, the glimmer that flickers in your hooded eyes. Irrelevant, the place, the time, or the colour. 

Too soon, always too soon, he feels you clenching down on him, your belly pulled taut and your whole body arching up under his hold, reaching out for the reassurance of his skin and that’s all he ever wants to do, give you that. 

“Oh god Frankie, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you whine, and he lays down on you once again, throbbing inside your clutching heat, focused on the sounds and sensations he draws out of you as they ripple through him. He’s learned the hard way there are no other drugs that can give him that high. 

“Come on, baby, come on, give it to me,” he grunts through gritted teeth, and his name tumbles down your tongue and stretches in your mouth. You slip out of consciousness, you grow bright and disintegrate into a million pieces of light between his arms.

His voice, hoarse and breathless, brings you back to the bed in the room, reassembling the fragments of you, his face buried in your hair, his lips brushing your ear, “…you’re perfect, Gabrielle, you’re so fucking– so perfect–” 

The movement of his hips resumes with a plea, spoken after sucking in the smooth skin below your jaw, leaving his mark there, “I want another one, I–, I need another one, baby please, you need to take it, I need–” words like a fever scorching you raw inside and out. 

Your nails dig trails of blood on the plane of his back before you answer, “Take everything you need.”

His cock drags along your walls at a debilitating speed, his mouth pouring filth into your ear, promises to make you feel good in every possible way for the rest of your days, to wreck you and kiss you better in an endless blissful loop, “I’m yours, baby, you’re mine.” 

He roughly cups your jaw open and spits into your mouth, and at this you come hard with a broken cry, and he follows, so forcefully, so completely, you can feel his spend fill up your cunt, but he doesn’t slow down yet, and it’s a feral grunt before he says, “gonna fuck it deeper this time, gonna fuck it so it stays inside you forever.”

—

The midnight June has brought a cool breeze, wafting in through the large window, and in the spartan bedroom, the feeble moon casts a shy ray of light through the blue curtains. 

You sucked your taste off his cock into another release, taking him down your throat without breaking eye contact, and he came faster than ever before, at the sound of your heavy breathing. His fingers threaded in your hair, pulling you close to his base, his thumb brushing the tear rolling down your cheek from the corner of your eye. 

He sat up and came on your chest and rubbed his spend into your skin without asking for permission. Lazy circles and light pressure applied with two fingers as you lied, weak and sprawled on your back, a question revolving in his mind, another one he could not push down. 

“Did you let him come on your skin?”

You covered your eyes with the heels of your hands, begging, “Please, don’t—” and when you moved your hands away from your face, you saw his soft eyes turning pitch-dark and his face twitching under the storm in his mind, his fingers pressing harder on your sternum. You watched the bobbing of his throat, the pebbled skin of his neck cast in the shadow of the waxing crescent moonlight. 

“I let him come on my skin, because I wouldn’t let him come in my mouth. Because I never let him fuck my ass, or fuck me bare. I kept waiting for you, even when I thought you would never come back. I never stopped waiting, Frankie. This you have to understand.”

His hand stilled, pinned down by remorse. Words failing him in his desire to atone. 

“Sit on my face.”

“I won’t be able to sit anywhere for a week, Frankie,” you said in a stern, albeit tired tone.

Bending down over you from where he lied at your side, he carefully parted your folds with his thick fingers, gathering his saliva on his tongue, letting it slide down and drip onto your swollen clit, shivers running up your spine that turned into prickling tears under your closed eyelids. 

He teased gently, delicately nudging and licking around your bundle of nerves with the curled up tip of his tongue, suckling on it until you came like a flower blooms, unfurling slowly at first, and then all at once, and he drew away from you, mindful not to take too much. 

He covered your entire body with revering kisses, from hips to shoulders and from head to toe, meticulous, repenting, thorough, a new smile on your grateful lips for each one of his “I love your skin.”

Now his spent cock is resting between your breasts as you’re lying on top of him, arms folded on his stomach, your chin propped on your hands because you can’t stop looking at him. 

A lock of your hair twirled around his fingers, his other arm folded under his head for support because he can’t stop looking at you. 

“And these curtains,” you say with a soft laughter, “these curtains were… I don’t know. They kept haunting me. Like they coloured my dreams, you know?” This ever present apology about your feelings, still, and his heart flinches in his ribcage. “Did you keep them?”

“Of course. They’re in a box in the garage.” His voice doesn’t give him away, steady and self-possessed.

“Oh, right! Your mother made them.” You tilt your head to the side so his fingers touch your cheek, and he lets you peck a kiss on his little tattoo. 

“Yea. Because of that, too.”

Your smile blooms in his chest. 

Lifting your head up to free your hand, you reach for the right side of his jaw and scrap your fingernails in his beard. 

“When did the grays appear, here?”

He takes a deep breath, and your body follows the rising movement of his belly. 

“I don’t know. I stopped shaving when I quit the Army two years ago, and it was there already. You don’t like it?” he asks. He can’t recall ever being self-conscious about the way he looked, not like he is now.

”I like it, I like it a little too much.”

You bob with the hearty laughter shaking his chest and tug on a streak of hair in reprimand. 

“Hey, don’t laugh, stop it!”

“Ok, ok I’m not laughing,” he replies, his shoulders still heaving. 

“There’s a bare patch here,” you press your finger to it, “and another one there.”

“Yea,” he’s not laughing anymore, and he lets go of your hair to scratch his beard, “it’s– I should probably shave.”

“No. No you shouldn’t, it’s perfect. It’s the exact same size as my lips. It’s like a target for kisses.” Your voice drops to a murmur. “And this one is… heart-shaped.”

You fall silent and he hopes you’ll come closer and kiss him there, like you said, but instead it’s sadness he sees playing across your face. 

“You’ll be turning 40 next year, right?” you ask.

“No baby, I am 40 already. This year. Back in March.”

You sigh heavily, blinking repeatedly. You let your hand slide to his side and lay your cheek on his warm skin. 

“Then I missed all of your thirties.”

His jaw ticks, guilt scrambling his mind. He feels useless again, helplessly contemplating your regrets. His voice is low and quiet when he says, “I know. I missed all of your twenties.”

“Not exactly,” you correct him, “I was twenty when we met.”

“Yea I know, that’s the point. What little I saw was really fascinating.”

You laugh unconvincingly. “No. No, it wasn’t very interesting. Lots of studying, lots of drinking.” You pause, hesitant. “Lots of bad decisions,” you finally add, very quiet.

Frankie frowns and closes his eyes. Unsure whether he wants to know what this entails. How much pain. How many other men. He’s registered the nearly invisible scars on the back of your arms. And remorse keeps burning through his chest.

A small dog barks in the distance. You span your hand over his side before lifting your head up again.

“But there’s more of you, now,” you tease with a cheeky smile, pinching his side. 

“Oh, alright,” he chuckles self-deprecatingly, and your face lights up at the sight of his dimple, more pronounced in his fuller cheeks.  

“I love that too,” you add in earnest.

Silence lingers for a beat, as he brushes his knuckles to your cheek. You look so young, when you look at him like that. 

“You— you haven’t changed,” he says, worship in his hushed voice. 

“Ha! Right!” you scoff, sitting up between his thighs.

“No, it’s true,” he insists, and you see it in his eyes, the way he perceives you, and it’s the most beautiful you will ever be. 

Your hand caresses its way down his belly, scraping the thin path of rougher black hair leading downwards. You circle his cock with feather-like softness, and you stroke him lightly in silence, watching his lips part, his response to your touch immediate. A bead of precome, leaking for you, and you press your thighs together in your kneeled position, resisting the urge to taste it.

“Why do they call you Catfish?”

His heavy breathing hitches. He doesn’t answer, shaking his head slowly to the left, to the right. 

You move up to straddle him, placing the round, blunt head of his half-erect length at your entrance, and sink smoothly onto him with an audible exhale you can’t control. 

You start rolling your hips languidly, both hands splayed over his chest for balance, for pleasure, feeling him grow thicker inside you with every swaying movement. 

“How many women have you fucked, Francisco Catfish Morales?”

He sits up surprisingly fast for a man his size, and the sudden change of angle makes you gasp. The flat of his hand finds the swell of your breast, and when he pinches your nipple between his index and middle fingers, your head drops limply on his shoulder. 

He takes over, roughly grabbing the meat of your ass, your flesh gushing through his fingers and the way he slides you onto his cock at a quickening pace, his hair rubbing at your clit, has you moaning into the crook of his neck, your legs twitching. When you’re flush against him and pliant in his arms, Frankie leaps for your forgiveness, and murmurs in your ear.  

“I was looking for you, baby. I was only looking for you.”

Your shoulders slump under the weight of his words. You pivot your head to the right, peeking your tongue out to taste the skin of his neck. And then you ask, “Will you come in my mouth, please?”

—

He left a new purple mark in the crook of your neck. Bit your hip with a mind to draw blood and you would have let him. Turned you around and laid you flat on your stomach to lick the sweat between your shoulder blades. 

And then he covered your body with his and breached your tight ring as deep as you could take him, snaking his arm around you to sink a finger into your cunt, then two, then three, the heel of his hand deftly applying pressure to your clit. Your lips catching on the white linen; you might have been drooling. 

He let himself go and came with you, mouthing his love against your nape in Spanish. 

Exhausted, engulfed, overwhelmed, you cried just after you came; silent tears soaking the sheet, your words barely coherent. 

“You feel so good,” you said, “I thought I made it up, what I remembered.”

He held you in his arms. 

—

He reluctantly left the room to go get some water, and you smiled to yourself at the long-lasting habit, giving you the opportunity to take a look around you. The bed, bigger than any other you’ve ever seen, let alone slept in, the chest of drawers on the opposite side, a few items you can’t make out scattered on the top, family pictures pinned to the wall above it. A large closet on the left that you had failed to notice. Two simple bedside tables with lamps, and books lying about that you have no strength to pick up and study. 

Quenched, sated, comfortably tucked up into his side, you’ve no desire to sleep but your eyelids have become lazy. The dark square of sky behind the blue curtains has turned into a lighter shade of night. You couldn’t care less about the time. 

Under the palms of your hands braced on his chest, his breathing is even, and his skin warm, the beating of his heart peaceful and steady. 

The pads of your fingers find his scar once again, and you feel him quiver. 

“How did it happen?” you ask quietly.

Frankie doesn’t answer. Not now, he thinks, please, please not now. 

But then, when?

“Frankie?” You tilt your head up to look at him. “When? When did it happen?”

He picks a strand of your hair from your face and tucks it behind your ear. The tips of his fingers rest on your pulse point until he finds the courage to answer. 

“2005,” he articulates, his tongue heavy. 

You stiffen against him. The year sounds familiar, but you can’t replace it. Your tired mind swivels around something Ironhead might have said.

“Isn’t that when you met— when you met the guys?” you ask tentatively. Your voice sounds like it’s coming from a distance. 

“I met Pope back in 2001, and Redfly a couple years later, but— yea. That’s when I met Will and Ben.”

Benny’s name rings out in the dark, altering the silence between you. You've grown rigid, trying to control your breathing as the implications and consequences of what you’ve initiated dawns on you like iced water.  

“Second tour, in Iraq. For Pope and I. We were supposed to back up a ground unit, but the whole thing went… it was fucked up from the start. We got ambushed. They were waiting for us. We took on some fire, a rocket hit the tail rotor, and I lost control of the helicopter.”

“Oh god. You crashed?” 

You sat up as he talked, and in your pale, weary face, your eyes are immense. He straightens up after you, facing you, without quite meeting them.

“Yea. Bad fucking landing. I crashed the fucking chopper.”

You had thought, a few days back, that you had it all figured out. But now everything falls into place, glaring ugly under the crude light of hard facts. Your voice fails you, and you clear your throat feebly before you ask a question you’ve already guessed the answer to.

“Did anyone else get hurt?”

He looks at you with dim, beaten eyes that reveal his true wound. 

“Pope made it with an injured knee. Got ejected before the crash. The two other snipers on board died when the helicopter exploded.”

You wait for the end, the key information of what took place between the crash and the explosion. He delivers it in a low, monochord tone, not a glimmer of light in his eyes. 

“A piece of the cockpit got torn up and stabbed me. Benny— Benny was in the ground unit. He rescued me. Pulled me out of there before the explosion. Didn’t have time to go back for the others.”

An overwhelming urge to hurt yourself twitches your hands. You move fast, climbing into his lap, enveloping his body with your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. He doesn’t stop you, but he doesn’t return your embrace, and you fight off your tears. This is not about you. 

“Oh, baby,” you murmur, “baby, it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault.”

You repeat the words until you feel his clenched fists circling your back. You know you’re defeated. That he will never believe that. You hope he doesn’t hear you cry, and you grip him harder, until his shoulders sag under your hold. He feels so young, in your arms, like a boy, like a little child, hiding his face in your neck, and you wish for your skin to absorb all his tears.

Your next words feel like tearing your chest open to rip out your heart. 

“I can’t stay.”

“Don’t, please don’t.” You hear the ragged sobbing in his voice. 

“I can’t stay, I can’t stay Frankie, you know I can’t–”

“I don’t fucking care.”

You disentangle your body from his and he glares at you as you get down the bed and put on your panties.

“I can’t stay, I can’t ask you to choose—”

“You don’t have to ask me to choose, I already chose, I don’t care about anyone else,” he argues, getting off the bed as well. 

“What about in a year?” you straighten up abruptly to face him. “Or five? Or ten? What if it doesn’t work out and you’ve lost all your friends?”

He comes to stand in front of you, towering over you, crushing you with his impressive silhouette backlit by the blue light of the early morning. The contained wrath in his voice raises the thin hair on your nape.

“Look at me, and tell me you don’t believe it would work. There’s no version of this in which you and me doesn’t work,” he accompanies his angry words with a back and forth movement of his index finger between you and him. “We work. You know we work. It’s the only fucking thing that makes any fucking sense.”

You turn away from him and exit the bedroom, walking hastily down the hallway toward the living-room and open kitchen, where you stood hours before and have no recollection of. Your dress is heaped on the tiles next to his t-shirt, and you proceed to put it back on, your trembling fingers utterly useless. 

By the time you’ve managed to tie the shoulder bows, Frankie emerges from his bedroom fully dressed and booted. He picks up his cap from the floor where it had landed the evening before and adjusts it on his head after combing his hair with his fingers, and you stare at him, dumbfounded.  

“What are you doing?” you ask in near panic, as he walks past you on his way to the front door.

“What do you think? I’m not letting you go back to your place on the fucking bus,” he snaps with his back to you, grabbing the car keys from the console.

“You know if you drive me back we’ll only end up fucking in your truck,” you retort, slipping on your sandals. 

His hand stills on the keychain, his entire frame stiffening under his denim shirt. You straighten up slowly, horrified. 

“Frankie, I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m so sorry.” 

You run up to him, throwing yourself against his tall figure, pressing your forehead to his nape, to the scent of his hair. 

“I’m not letting you go back to your place on the bus,” he repeats, softer. 

“I’m sorry. Forgive me,” you plead, your hands grabbing at his chest. 

“I do. I forgive you. Let’s go.”

****

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[wandasmistress]

Come Back to Me

Requests (3)- Bottom!Natasha x reader where they have sex on a mission + Natasha and Reader have an argument where R is in the wrong but she’s too stubborn to apologize and she thinks the problem will resolve itself but it dosen’t and after a couple weeks she sucks it up and apologizes + “Don’t you dare speak to me like that” prompt with Natasha saying it to R

Synopsis- When the inability to talk properly to one another turns into endless fights until Y/n finally says something they can't take back, can she make it up to Natasha and have her come back to her?

Pairings- Bottom!Natasha Romanoff x Top!Reader

Warnings- 18+ Content, and Blood

Word Count- 7.6k (I tried to not make it this long but I literally couldn't!!😫��)

A/N- Decided to kill three birds (requests) with one stone (story)😭

➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Fighting was all you both did in the last month. Natasha complained about your workout clothes spread out across the bedroom floor, flinging them on you while you were laying in bed watching tv. She calls you a pig and you get upset but she tells you if you don't want to be associated with the name then you should stop acting like one. You jump up from the bed walking towards her trying to throw a good enough comeback at her about how she is a gym freak but she scoffs rolling her eyes and shoves you slightly while exiting your shared room. 

She complained about the crumbs you put in the bed from your late-night snacking, snatching the sheets off the mattress in a rare occurrence of an outburst from her, throwing the bundle of sheets towards you when you got out of the bathroom from your nightly shower. You flipped her off saying how you didn’t eat chips in bed, only soft cakes and sweets. Natasha shook her head in anger as she ushered for you to go wash them immediately, when you refused she called you a little baby who has gotten dependent on the compound maids. You exited the room after getting changed during her lecture to sleep on the common room’s couch since Wanda took your old one after you moved into Nat’s three years ago. 

Or when Natasha “accidentally” bleached all of your clothes, that argument lasted half an hour, yelling so loud that the whole floor could hear the elongated argument. She told you how your style wasn't that good anyway and how she did you a favor. You retaliated by dumping her favorite hoodies out the window watching them fall into a huge mud puddle from the rainstorm that previous night with an evil smile on your face. You held in your wicked laughter at her aggravated expression, you could almost see the steam coming from her ears. She stormed out of the room to retrieve the hoodies and take a break from your presence before she said or did something she would regret in the future. You face-palmed yourself when you realized some of the clothes you threw out the window were yours, slouching down on the bed in irritation.

»

One night when you were on your phone scrolling through endless pages of clothing sites trying to rebrand your style, you tried to not take Natasha's comments about your style to heart but you did. From the other side of the bed, you heard soft muffling in the quiet of the night, raising your eyebrow to assess the sound only to find it coming from the redhead beside you. Your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised quickly, you quickly switched to the camera app on your phone to record her as the snores raised in volume. 

The next morning while she was changing in front of the dresser you played her snores at full volume to get on her nerves because you were still feeling petty from the bleaching situation. At first, she didn't care because she thought it was a random person until she heard you snickering as you called her name out to her in the video. Her shoulders tensed as she was tying her hair into a ponytail, she turned around slowly with a questionable face. 

Your mouth was closed shut as you sat perched on the bed staring at her with a smirk, she thought you were playing games until another loud snore came from the phone and her eyes whipped towards it while another giggle came from your phone. She quickly looked to your face to see if you were laughing but your face remained stoic as you stared back at her with your phone dangling between your fingers. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, eyebrows scrunching in the process as she lunged towards you, forgetting to put on her shirt leaving her only in a bra.

This one time you were too fast for her as you quickly shut yourself in the bathroom in a fit of laughter, grasping your stomach from the pain of laughing. She banged on the door yelling at you to delete the video. After a few minutes of her empty restless threats, you heard loud stomps then a loud boom as the bedroom door slammed shut enunciating her departure, you could feel the slam vibrate through the walls from the force she used causing you to laugh harder.

»

Another time where you said something to get under her skin was in front of the rest of the team, which would be her last straw. It was one of the monthly movie nights you would all have to attend, being bundled up in the warm common room with as many blankets you could pile on the already comfortable couches. Vision picked from a hat of everyone's favorite movies because everyone thought he was incapable of cheating so it would be fairer.

Once all the snacks from the kitchen were gathered and brought about, Vision picked Skyfall from the bunch, Clint cheering in silent victory as one of his was picked. Sam and Tony groaned audibly in annoyance at such a ‘boring’ movie in their opinion. They threw single pieces of popcorn in Clint's direction but he slapped them away as Wanda chuckled in an untamed manner beside him, her eyes squinted shut from the laughter.

Even though everyone in the room had seen this movie more than once they still sat down to watch it intently, murmuring during the action scenes and amazing angles that were shown.

Natasha was beside you, you were a bit surprised she’d want to sit next to you after your last argument but she nestled right beside you like nothing happened, happily munching on her favorite buttered popcorn. You were prepared to hear her complain about the kernels getting stuck in her teeth for the next day if it meant you could see her so peacefully for what felt like the first time in forever.

Your arm was wrapped around her shoulder as she leaned into your side with a content hum until she got up from the couch abruptly and put the now empty bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. Your eyes rose in astonishment from how fast she devoured the bowl thinking how she must have worked out extra hard today to be craving food that badly.

You heard some movement in the kitchen along with a few cabinets and drawers being open and clothes. Your back was turned towards it, more focused on the fight scene happening in front of you while Tony and Steve were judging their fighting skills, you rolled your eyes at them all while letting out chuckles from their ridiculing.

A few moments later as the fight scene got more intense you were gripping onto the seat of the couch, biting your nail as close shots were made. Then you felt a dip on the couch beside you along with the clink of a spoon against ceramic. You turned around to look and see Natasha had gotten a bowl of ice cream, your mouth hung open as she scooped some up bringing it to her face. You tried to steal it from her but she quickly moved the spoon towards your face leaving a little blob of the cold creamy dessert on your nose, wincing from the coldness you went back to your normal position attempting to lick it off as you heard her chortle next to you.

After a few more minutes passed you looked over to see Natasha finishing her bowl of ice cream, the thick liquid now turned runny as she tipped the bowl over to get it on the spoon. A quick thought came to your head for an amazing joke to say, the words slipping out of your mouth before you could stop and think about the deeper.

“Damn, you’ve got a big girl appetite,” You say tauntingly. She looks over to you with her eyebrows raised, confusion struck her face as the spoon hangs in front of her. You thought this was a giveaway to continue, “Wouldn't want to eat more of that junk, or that big belly of yours might just detonate,” You give out a quick laugh, finding your joke funny, “I’d hate for you to not fit into your Victoria's Secret lingerie anymore, that’d be a terrible shame.” You finish with a sick smile on your face.

The whole room turned silent as no one dared to move, Tony and Sam stopping their useless mutterings to each other as they froze. You continued to look at Natasha and could see that her eyes were dripping wet with betrayal, and humiliation. Your smile instantly left your face as you now realized you fucked up. You muttered a few curse words under your breath trying to think of a quick apology to make it right with her.

But before you could you heard a quiet snicker coming from Tony, his hand instantly coming up to his mouth as he avoided both of your gazes by looking down when the two of your heads snapped over at the sound. You slowly looked back at Natasha as her face was now stoic and free of any emotions.

You couldn't stand to look her in the eyes anymore as you took your arm from the back of her seat and gathered it in your lap with the other, heart beating at a fast paste. You were waiting for her to say something but she stayed silent which made your stomach churn in anxiety. 

You felt her leave the couch as it rose from her getting up, you were about to look up to her and mutter a sorry apology but before you could even look up you felt semi-cold thick liquid dribble down from the top of your head, leaking onto your face. Gasping at the feeling, mouth wide open you quickly stand up from the couch abruptly with your hands sticking out from beside you in a shocked demeanor.

Finally looking at her with your mouth still agape you could see how angry she was through her eyes, choking on your saliva as your breath faltered.

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that.” She told you eerily composed. Your ears started to burn up from all the attention you were getting, embarrassment overriding your system. Saddening inside at the way she was looking at you, disgustedly.

She shoved the empty bowl in your chest roughly, hitting your sternum which caused you to wince from the impact. She strode away swiftly without making a single noise. The room was silent in her absence, you sucked in a slow breath taking in the whole situation. You looked up to find everyone avoiding your gaze as the movie continued to stream on at normal volume. Moving your head around you saw Clint staring at you with cold eyes, you gulped from the intense glare, cowering in his gaze.

»

After that night you and Nat haven't been the same since, she stopped trying to even interact with you because of the level of disrespect she felt when she heard those vile words exit your mouth. You couldn't deny the fact that you were also avoiding her, you didn't know how to properly apologize to her and each time around the compound or in the briefing room you couldn't look her in the face, too ashamed. 

So this radio silence between the both of you continued for a few weeks, you gave up the room a long time ago opting out to sleep on a different floor away from everyone, a little afraid that when you woke up in the night you would find Natasha above you with a wire to strangle you.

Her emotions towards you weren't oblivious, even if her face was impassive her body would radiate the energy she failed to express. Everyone could feel her fury, irritation, and resentment seeping out of her skin. No one wanted to confront her about the incident to avoid her wrath if she snapped.

Knowing that Natasha was beyond angry and pissed off with you did something to your mind. Every night you stayed up yearning for her touch, the way her body seamlessly molded together with yours, and the way she glowed in the moonlight, looking celestial. Your stubbornness was going to be the death of you, your inability to apologize and take ownership of your wrongs was weighing down on you.

This fight was the one that changed everything between you both, after the two of you constantly nagged at each other purposefully you still made it into each other's arms in the night despite being at each other's necks hours before. You both knew the reason you were fighting so much was that you were failing to communicate with one another properly, things like open toothpaste bottles and lone socks on the floor initiating a yelling match when it shouldn't.

On the outside you tried your best to show that you were okay and didn't care about the current situation going on, the person you love the most slipping away from you quickly. But deep down you were also hurting, mentally cursing yourself each time Natasha swiftly passed you in the halls not giving you any time to stop her and apologize. This made you lose hope and give up after multiple attempts, which got you thinking about how maybe you two were never meant to be together in the first place, so you started to ignore her presence too.

In the morning after your outside workout with Sam that had you sweating uncontrollably, you two were headed to the kitchen to grab a snack and water. On the way to your destination, he had picked up an abandoned football on the field and started throwing it back and forth to each other through the long halls of the compound, your laughter echoing throughout the corridor. 

Sam chucked the ball further than you originally thought causing you to sprint down the hall before it knocked over something. Catching the ball with one arm and then rolling across the floor with the ball clutched between the palms of your hands you heard his victory shout which sounded more like a roar and you broke out in a fit of laughter. Rolling your eyes playfully as you stood up from the ground and basked in his acclaims. When he reached you he patted you on the shoulder roughly and brought his hand up to your head to mess up your hair more than it already was. You shooed him away with your hand as you stepped through the threshold of the kitchen.

“If you weren’t an avenger then you could possibly be in the NFL,” You laughed some more at his response and shook your head, “No, I’m serious with those sticky fingers you would do great. You're pretty skilled with your hands, I bet you're pretty popular with the girls, eh?”

You choked up from laughter and held onto the counter for stability as your body shook with hysteric laughs. A reply slips from your mouth as a quick response.

“Hey, I’ve had lots of practice,” You tell him smugly slapping him on the back, “The trick is to keep going after they hit their orgasm, drives them crazy.”

His eyebrows raise taking in the advice and that's when you start to look around at your surroundings and your breath hitched quietly, Natasha was seated on the other side of the kitchen munching on her granola silently while scrolling through her phone. A wave of awkwardness flooded your system, your hand coming up to scratch the back of your neck as your chuckles dimmed.

You saw that Natasha's spoon full of yogurt and flakes of granola rested in front of her face, she had heard your comment and froze, not realizing it. She sucked on her lips as her eyes stayed locked on her phone, you knew she felt your gaze on her but she paid no mind to look up.

Sam’s incoherent mumbling went on as your eyes stayed locked on her, your breathing becoming unsteady as you continued to look at her. You didn't know how she had this effect on you still, you guys hadn't come together to discuss if you were apart but it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the obvious divide between you both. The separation tugging on your heartstrings, your gaze faltered as you looked down, a glum cloud engulfing you quickly.

You were brought back to reality from Sam’s laugh, you looked over to see him sticking up his fingers and showing how he does it. You rolled your eyes shoving him and calling him a dumbass under your breath. You stalked over to the fridge and pulled out cold water, tossing one towards Sam's direction for him to catch then turning around and pulling out an orange the size of your fist.

You walk back to where he was and engage in more conversation with Sam forgetting Natasha’s presence as he tells you a story about his childhood growing up in Louisiana. You raise your eyebrows when the story gets interesting as he tells you how he almost fell from a boat from a fish tugging with lots of power. You laughed and called him a dumbass some more times as the story got more intense. 

While you were shaking your head chuckling at his jokes Natasha looked up from her phone, moving it to the side slightly so she could see your face without making it obvious. She could see your messy hair, loose hairs sticking to the back of your neck and forehead while your head was turned towards Sam. Your dominant jawline sent shivers down her spine as your jaw flexed from your smile and laugh. When you turned your head back around to unravel the orange peel she looked back down towards her phone quickly, praying that she wasn't caught.

She peered over her phone again her eyes automatically finding your fingers as they crushed into the orange. The whole scene was in slow motion for her. The way the orange juices squirted from the fruit, the way you brought your thumb up to your mouth sucking your finger. Her breath hitched as her stomach flipped and she immediately bit her lip, she was supposed to be hating you but how could she when you looked so damn hot. She crossed her legs hoping she could ease the build-up and relive it later while one of your hoodies was in her face to smell your scent. She shook her mind free of the thoughts of you and went back to mindlessly scrolling on her phone.

Sam finished his story reeling you, your movements stopping as you listened in, at the last second he snatched more than half of your orange slices and dashed out of the kitchen, you cursed under your breath when you failed to grab him. You walked over to the trashcan chucking the remaining scraps of the orange peel in the bin. Walking over to the sink to wash your sticky fingers.

While you were by the sink scrubbing your hands you heard Sam from the hallway.

“Catch!” He shouted suddenly, your head whipped over to the direction of his voice. The hairs on the back of your neck sticking up.

You were by the sink so you couldn't catch the ball and before you could blink again you saw a whizzing ball whoosh past the threshold of the kitchen where he exited heading straight for Natasha. Her head was still turned down looking at her phone and you knew that she couldn't possibly be that fast with her movements to see it coming.

In the next second, she was struck square in the forehead with the football. Her head flung back from the impact, her hand coming up to her forehead. Your breath stopped and your mouth fell open. She let out a loud croak, your heart dropping to your stomach as you rushed to dry your hands and go over to her. 

Speed walking to where she was you hadn't realized you were holding your breath until you reached her, sucking in a deep breath when she looked up at you with enraged eyes. You looked around at the scene, her bowl of yogurt and granola splattered all around the counter from the football falling, some splattered on the front of her shirt and black leggings. Your eyebrows raised as you made eye contact.

An apology already at the tip of your tongue, you reached out to her. She bit on the inside of her cheeks firmly when she met your gaze, she didn't look one bit pleased. She smacked your hand away from her abruptly getting up from her seat, she pocketed her phone quickly and grabbed the football shoving it in your chest.

“Wouldn’t want to forget this, wide receiver.” She said snidely, turning away.

“I-I’m sorry, Sam threw the ball and I was by the sink,” You say following her as she exited the kitchen.

She was still walking with her back turned to you replying coldly, “I don't give a fuck, Y/n. And stop following me.”

You were hot on her trail, your hands shaking with anxiety at the way she said your name, “Can you please stop walking and talk to me, please.” You plead.

She abruptly stops causing you to run into her, you take a few steps back and run your hand through your hair, your eyes staying trained on her form. She slowly turns around and when you see her face your heart almost breaks. Her eyes were teary and you could tell she was holding back to the best of her extent.

Your automatic response was to cup her cheek and your arm flinched at the reflex but you stopped yourself before you could make the situation first.

“You don’t fucking understand, Y/n. If you had the littlest bit of respect for me you wouldn’t have said what you said, but you don’t. And I won’t take your half-ass apology because it doesn't mean shit to me.” She scolds you, sniffling slightly.

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to think of something to say but nothing in your mind seemed good enough. She scoffed at your silence and rolled her eyes as she turned back around.

“I didn’t mean it, I was joking! I do respect you Nat, and I’m sorry for embarrassing and making you feel bad. Please forgive me.” 

She stopped in her footsteps and turned back around in an instant, “I don’t forgive you, go fuck yourself.” She snapped back, finally walking off and this time you didn’t follow after her. Your arms flopped down to your sides as you released a sigh, your hands coming up to your face as you dragged them down your tired face.

»

It has been half a month since you and Natasha last talked and you weren't doing any better than you were weeks ago. Dark circles were starting to form under your eyes from losing alarming amounts of sleep, everyone on the team was also starting to notice the decrease in your mood, everyone except Natasha.

You were sulking around the compound mindlessly just feeling the need to get up and move after staring out the window for half the day. Sam passed you while you were perched by the window and commented how depressed you looked but you didn’t have any energy in you to fire back so you continued looking out the window ignoring his presence which made him confused as he stood behind you for a minute in silence until he walked away, walking at a slow pace.

You felt bad for ignoring him like that but you couldn't bring yourself to turn towards him and have him comment on the way you look which would make you cry on the spot.

As you were walking glumly down the long corridor you heard Jarvis over the intercom above you beckoning you to come to debriefing room two immediately. You were at first hesitant to go in case it would be some sort of intervention from the team but when you asked what it was about and he notified you about an upcoming mission your eyebrows raised and you rushed over to the elevator hoping to make it there quickly since you were three floors above the debriefing floor.

You approached the room, your paste lessening as you got closer to the open door, you could hear Steve’s voice coming through the open door. As you got closer you tried to peep in through the glass walls but the whiteboard obstructed your view of the table to see who exactly was going to be attending.

When you walked into the room your eyes immediately fell onto Natasha, you started to bite the inside of your cheek when you noticed no one else sitting at the table. You were standing by the door like a weirdo, shifting on your feet awkwardly as your hands were interlocked behind your back.

Steve let out a loud cough and your head snapped towards him only to see his hand pointing towards an empty seat at the head of the table. You shook your head and walked over quickly, trying to keep your breath under control when you felt Natasha’s eyes on you.

You didn't know but she found you absolutely adorable the way you stood in the doorway, you barely showed the shy side of you because you were often an outgoing person. Nat finds you adorable standing like that in the doorway but the thought drifts away when the words you said to her creep up in her mind, her eyes cast downwards staring at the pristine tiled floor.

Steve continues to talk when you sit down, explaining the mission you and Nat will be going on in Siberia. How all you have to do is retrieve stolen tech from a warehouse and how it shouldn't be a big deal because the both of you could definitely handle it. You knew that this was an easy mission and so did Natasha, and you two also knew this was Steves's attempt to reconcile your romance.

You slouched back in your chair, crossing your arms over your torso as you listened to what Steve was saying to ensure you didn't mess up this mission and cause even more of a divide between yourself and the redhead. But you couldn't help sneaking a few glances towards Natasha, her defined jaw causing you to stare longer than you should’ve. The way her hair fell over her shoulders had your fingers squeezing against your arms.

Suddenly Natasha looked over her shoulder, eyes gaping into the side of your face when you whipped your head back towards Steve’s direction. You stifled a cough as you felt her eyes on you, feigning interest in the words on the whiteboard.

Once the debriefing was over you hopped out of your seat at a record speed to the door, if you wanted to make sure you were in the best quality for this mission you had to get sleep and make sure you were charged up. Ignoring Steve’s worried glance as you exited with a straight face, he wondered if he was doing the right thing.

When you were no longer in the room Natasha got up from her seat slowly, trailing over to Steve with her arms crossed. “I hope you aren't trying to help Y/n.”

He watched her walk away with a sway in her hips and a determined look on her face, maybe this wasn't enough to fix the divide between you both but he hoped it would because he hated seeing both of you act so standoffish to one another.

»

You were currently inside the warehouse, crouching down with a loaded pistol wrapped in your hands. You were holding your breath to hear any footsteps of people trying to be secretive. Natasha had cleared the place of security guards lurking in the front, basically doing all the work so you could go in and safely secure the tech.

When she took out the last guard you had expected her to go in with you as you walked through the door but she opted out to stay outside in case one of the guards called for backup. But you knew it was just an excuse to not have to be near you and you turned back around, a pained expression on your face as your head hung slightly.

When you knew for sure the inside was empty you started to head towards the large beige crates, scratching your head wondering how you were going to get all of these to the safe house securely. You latched onto the one nearest to you crouching down in the process to pick it up and headed back towards the door. You left the first one at Natasha’s feet and stood back up. She looked at you in slight disbelief, your eyebrow raised and you froze in your spot.

“If you want to start healing our relationship I recommend you walk those a few feet over and place the crates in the van yourself,” Your mouth hung open in shock, “I’ll be waiting in the driver's seat.” She ended, sidestepping you and the crate and walking towards the van parked away in the distance. Your eyes trailed up and down her body, even the way she walked sent tingles down your spine, how am I even going to win her over at this rate.

You let out a quick breath recollecting yourself, crouching back down to pick up the fifteen-pound crate, waddling over to the van, trying not to trip over your feet in the darkness.

It took you surprisingly half an hour to load all the crates into the back of the van since you have been lacking on working out so you were as proficient. The van was packed and you ran out of space with the last one, letting out a loud huff of anger. You took a break sitting down on the crate, resting your elbows on your knees as you took a breather. While you were resting you felt something vibrate below your butt, shifting your gaze to the crate with a quirked brow.

You slowly got off the crate and crouched down in front of it, squinting your eyes while your hands moved to pry the top off. You peeked over the edge of the crater to see inside only to see a shining white light and the next moment you were splayed on the ground a few feet away from the opened box, groaning as you felt a surge of pain in your head.

Natasha heard the commotion and leaped out of the van, thinking there was a guard who got the jump on you, her heart racing at the possibility of finding you severely injured or worse. When she came around the corner of the van she saw you propped up on one of your elbows as your free hand was rubbing at your bleeding forehead, she let out a scoff and rolled her eyes finding no danger, but only a dumbass. She looked over to find the open crate and her expression fully dropped.

“Didn’t you hear Steve say to not open them, or were you not listening? Typical,” She sneered. You couldn't help but feel embarrassed under her gaze, looking towards the ground in shame.

When your hand moved from your forehead and she saw the deep gash and her heartbeat spiked, although she is still mad at you she can't help but feel anxiety at seeing you physically hurt in any way.

Before she can turn away you tell her, “There is no more room in the back of the van, how are we gonna transport it to the safe house?”

She licks her lip, the action drawing in your attention. “Don't worry. I’ll put it up front and you can walk, the way back isn't that far. You can handle it, right?” She demanded more than asked, you didn't get a chance to respond before she shut the back doors of the van and closed the crate, picking it up and walking to the front of the van. 

You were left there on the ground in disbelief as she started up the van and skirted off, your mouth hung open in bewilderment. The last few moments have not caught up to you yet. You sat up and rested your elbows on your spread knees as you stared head-on in the empty parking lot.

»

You made it back to the safe house an hour later, exhaustion filling up your body. Carrying the crates and walking three miles while feeling lightheaded from the gash on your head made you stumble through the front door when you unlocked it.

Slowly walking over to the couch with dropping eyes, all you wanted was to pass out so badly but you knew if you didn't take care of the gash it would get infected and scar, and that's something you didn't want, but surely five minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt. You felt like you sunk into the couch as you let out a content sigh, welcoming the oncoming wave of sleep.

As your mind started to fog entering the sleep state. You felt a dip in the couch beside you, your eyes fluttering open slowly as you turned to see what it was. You turned to see Natasha staring at you intently, a small dopey smile finding its way onto your face.

“Am I dreaming?” You ask her softly, still disoriented from the fatigue.

A small smirk inches its way up her face while looking at you adoringly. She can't help but find your dazed state cute. Her hand comes up to your face and brushes away the loose hairs from your forehead.

Out of nowhere, you start talking mumbling incoherent words. She looks at you deeply to figure out what you're saying but she can't, your eyes opening and closing slowly.

“I'm sorry,” You mutter out slowly. “I know you won't accept it but I am,” You continue letting out a long yawn. “I’m stupid, an asshole, an idiot, a fool, a shithead, a dumbass, a turd, a-” But she chuckles softly as she cuts you off by putting her finger onto your lips shushing you effectively. You stop talking and lazily kiss her finger while a stupid smile was plastered on your face.

Your eyes shut again and you can hear she is messing around with something next to her, her cool hands coming up to your face gently. You lean into her touch as she starts pressing against your gash with what you assume to be gauze. A small stinging sensation comes and you slightly wince squeezing your eyes shut, you feel her move on the couch and the next moment you feel her soft lips connect to your forehead. You are at true peace.

You forget the next moments as they blend together in a blur, you can only remember that you felt her get up from the couch causing your eyes to snap open. You took in her attire seeing that she had changed out of her suit and into some black shorts and long sleeve grey fleece shirt. Your hands found her hips instantly as she was not that far away from you, pulling her down onto your lap. She let out a small huff but couldn't help the smile that came to her face as seeing you completely mesmerized by her.

She repositioned herself on your lap and was now facing you, her hands resting on your shoulders. You leaned in leisurely to connect your lips and she met you halfway. Feeling her lips on yours for the first time in what seemed like forever gave you a boost of energy. Your hands that lay limp by your sides came up to the small of her back, pushing her towards you to lessen the gap. You both took your time with the kiss, taking the time to remember every bit of each other's lips again.

Heads moving every which way as your lips grappled to one another, soft mewls being put out from both of your mouths. Her hands came up to cup your cheeks as the kiss deepened. You let out a content hum from being in her hold again.

Her hips started to buck against you subtly, you knew what she was asking for and it was a request that you would not deny her. Your hands trailed to the end of her shirt as you stayed in the kiss, slowly taking the end of the shirt and pulling it up her torso. She broke the kiss quickly to take her shirt off faster getting impatient at the speed you were doing it.

She flung the clothing item in a random direction of the room as she started to work on unclipping the top piece of your suit, needy to get her hands on you and have yours all over her. In no time you were stripped of your top and your lips locked onto each other again, the feeling she gave you made you ecstatic. 

You bit her lower lip harshly and she gasped, your tongue instantly finding its way into her open mouth. Seeking out her tongue like a predator and wrapping onto it, sucking and writhing. She moaned into your mouth making your stomach do flips, you missed hearing that sound come from her. 

You quickly slid your hands up her back and unclipped her bra at an ungodly paste, the black lace slipping down her now bare front and pooling at the base of your stomach. You couldn't wait any longer as your hand traveled to the front of her body, rubbing up and down her stomach sending chills down her spine as she reveled in your touch. Your hands came up to her perky breast, wrapping them in your palm and kneading them with pressure.

She moans into your mouth again before she kisses you strongly one last time before parting your lips, she leans her head back giving your more room to play with her breast. Your fingers pinch her nipples releasing a whine from the woman, she squirms in your lap. Shaking her head as she bites her lip staring you directly in the eyes, her vibrant red hair swinging side to side from her quick movements.

You give one last squeeze to her nipples before you bring your head forward to her neck, you attach your lips to her neck and suck hard. She lets out a growl and wraps her hand around your neck, pulling you in with her tight hold. Your hands come to wrap around the back of her waist again to keep her in place as she scoots closer to you in your lap. Your hands dip down lower and grab handfuls of her ass as you mark her neck, her breathing becoming irregular.

Your sloppy kisses and sucks trail all the way up to her jawline, lining her jaw with dark marks. She tilts her head down and traps your lips in another breathless kiss, sucking the soul from your body as she licks your lips.

You can't take it anymore, flipping her onto her backside and towering over her on the couch. Coming down on top of her briskly, her bare chest sticking up as she looks at you charmingly. Her teeth capture her bottom lip in a seal as she stares up at you. Your hand comes down to trace her taut stomach, her stomach tensing from your cold fingertips. 

You trap her lips in another kiss as your hand slowly trails down her stomach to the spot she has been anticipating for you to touch for weeks now. When your hand passes through her shorts and to her clothed cunt she sucks in a deep breath. You press down hard on her covered clit and her body jolts up, that brings a smile to your face, the fact that she has so much built-up tension for you to alleviate.

You press down on her clothed clit one more time before you slide your fingers past her panties. Trapping her clit with your pointer finger, she is thrashing beneath you as you tamper with her clit. She moans into your ear, eyes pressing shut from the fulfillment, mouth hanging open.

Your middle finger starts running circles around her clit, fastening the paste every few seconds. Throaty satisfied long moans being released from her. A satisfied grin appears on your face at the sounds you are getting from her, you can't deny that you’ve missed this dearly.

You can’t wait any longer as your fingers slide down to her soaking entrance, your middle finger dips into the ocean of her arousal. Her breath hitching as she stops breathing, her hips bucking up towards your hand in automatic response. 

You enter her completely and she lets out a content hum, licking her lips. You start at a steady pace before picking it up and going faster. Her moans fuel the speed of your fingers, you want to hear what more sounds you can get out of her. 

Your hands work magic as muffled clapping sounds fill the room along with her whimpers. Looking down you can see her angelic face, the way her plump lips shine in the light, the small brown freckles scattered across her face, and red splotched cheeks.

You kiss her roughly and hammer into her faster, her eyes squeeze shut as she kisses you back harder. Her hands running up your back and coming to rest on the sides of your torso, you can feel her squeeze every now and then when the pressure starts to get relieved quickly.

In the next moment, you can feel her walls start to clench around your tense fingers. You pull them back making her whine then shove them back in with much more force causing her eyes to roll to the back of her head. Her hips grind into your hand once more before she is falling undone underneath you.

She lets out what almost sounds like a war cry, you think this is one of the best orgasms you’ve gotten from her which makes you grin proudly. You continue to stroke your fingers in and out of her the best you can since her clenched walls don’t allow you to move, which sends her to heaven.

She is feeling pure bliss for the first time in weeks, she knows that only you can ever make her feel this way, and that's why she never took your absurd comment to heart that much. 

Slowly you take your fingers from her, sending multiple kisses down her jaw and neck, coming back up to deliver a sloppy kiss to the corner of her mouth. You plop down beside her slightly out of breath from all the work and exhaustion from earlier hitting you like a brick.

She lets out a sigh as she turns over to face you, placing her hand below your breast, rubbing your skin soothingly. You turn to look at her with dazed eyes only to find her eyes filled purely with lust. You lean in to deliver one last kiss to her, tongues running over each other.

You pull back and take in a quick breath staring up at the ceiling in satisfaction.

“I forgive you,” She says out of the blue.

You look back at her. “If that was all it took you could have said so sooner.” You joke, a smirk pulling at your lips.

She slaps your chest holding in a chuckle, trying to not show her laughter. “I’m serious, and I’m sorry for what I did to your clothes and more,” You wave her off telling her how your style was way better now, thanking her, which made her laugh sincerely. “I do forgive you, but-” She says in a serious tone. You quirk an eyebrow at her, “For me to fully forgive you you need to delete that video of me snoring when we get back.”

You let out a soft laugh, looking at her affectionately. “You should have said that before you made me walk all those miles out in the dark, alone.”

She looks back at you with guilty eyes, she knew she was being a little too harsh on you. “Uh uh, you did deserve a little of that.”

You agree with her silently, rolling your eyes as you shook your head. “I guess I was a little of an ass, I’m sorry, love.” You say apologetically. A bright smile breaks through her face at the name she hasn't heard you call her that in months.

“A little?” She adds in sarcastically.

You jeer at her, a faux offended expression coming onto your face. “Well, then I’m your ass and you can never leave me again.” You tell her endearingly.

“Fine then, you're my ass, and my ass only.” She ends by leaning in and sealing your lips in a final searing kiss that makes your chest flutter.

»

[here2bbtstrash]

why just ONE? YOU can't even pick just one😤

https://youtu.be/PtaP4UkZKyc

it has to be this 🙇🏻‍♀️

first i wanted to pick either black swan live performance or the america's got talent one yknow where jimin looks so fine and taehyung wears a green suit but it still looked good🤷🏻‍♀️

BUT THEN I REMEMBERED THIS VIDEO EXISTS??? that dynamite dance break is enough to kill me. AND THE OUTFITS

they performed 'on' too and the intro??? THIS IS THEEEE ONE

it's still sad we didn't get to see yoongi but 'life goes on' performance touched my heart for this specific reason🤍

this is such a good choice sarah 😭

cause like first off that black swan dance.... another iconic moment and example of them cementing a legacy 🙌 reminds me of the jikook black swan fic idea sitting in my notes ksjdfskfdj UHHHH ANYWAY

and i totally agree, i love that they left the empty spaces where yoongi wasn't there bc bangtan isn't a whole if there's not 7 ❤️‍🩹 AND JIMIN HUMMING ALONG TO HIS LITTLE "mm-mm-m-m" is so fucking cute 🥺 i love any live performance of life goes on bc i looooove hearing jk harmonize and blend with the other members 🫠 and i think both joon and hoseok joining in on the last chorus but an octave lower???? i just....... IMMEDIATE CHILLS...... goddddd

AND THIS MF DYNAMITE PERFORMANCE..... IS PERHAPS THE MILF-IEST JUNG HOSEOK HAS EVER LOOKED 🥵 HE CAN GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS ME ANY DAY OKAY???

trade offer: i receive: your favorite bts performance video, you receive: my deranged ramblings on it 💯📈🤝

[starora2]

Why you no greatful? 🐖🗣️🐝🐦🐕🏴‍☠️🇧🇳 Maybe because you're pig. Pink = oink. You should go adopt 🐖. So you'll stop looking at me. It's time for you to have something to look for EVERYDAY. Why you looking up at me for?! Are you LOST?! Where the hell is your God?! Ew. Don't look at me yew bwitches.

Iatah ko tu nah siapa suruh buduh! Datang2! ke 🇧🇳🏴‍☠️ bawa diri sendiri! Bawa semua family mu! Luan talur! Kau dulu punya pasal datang ke 🇧🇳🏴‍☠️ macam setaie! Iatah luan BAKHIL! Bakhil tah ko lagi di sana ah! Sia-sia usul mu 🧙🏻‍♀️🐖👻🔮🧙🏻‍♂️🐖👻. Main magic arah ku 🤣, bukan kan success 🤣. Sashak lieh. It's a SIGN from GOD!! 👁️✈️👀👀😊 Told yew. Yew'll never be safe because of my eyes ☺️. Uhu. Still want me to work with you? For fame? Sure. But you'll pay the consequences 👻 DAJJAL 🙂.

Time aku damit dulu aku suka main baby dolls and bagi makan minum. Ada toysnya yg automatic looking food and drinks. Now im big enough. I think the dolls spirits 👻 doesn't want me to take care of human babies. Oh whale 👁️. I'll find you DAJJAL, i'll find you when I'm dead.

Maybe it's not them 🫰🏼 isn't it? It's the spirits isn't it? Yes yes. Goodbye world. Time to kill myself. Weeeeeee.

Tapi aku takut hantu.

Lol. They think it's all about fame. 🐖. Padahal it's all hantu. Hantullywood. Bye. Goodluck. Stupid DAJJAL.

Even when I was taking care of my cat 🙂 the 😍🐈👀🤬👻

Dorang Hollywood, "Lalalalala." Lepas tu dorang liat the ratings, lepas tu dorang "Eh?". Lepas tu dorang nampak aku belum lahir. Lepas tu dorang, "Uh.. We need to do something about this bitch Mariah." Lepas tu dorang buat SEMUA and I can see it on Youtube 👩🏻‍🎓 TQ TQ. I'm so dead.

Hollywood, "Cool. Might also use her for income and shiz." And that's how Hollywood were born. Lepas tu yang ani 🇵🇭 uh whatever they really into singing, making drama, I guess. Princess S & H!! Uh..idk..yet.. and their stupid Italian food. 🤦🏻‍♀️. Idk. Lebih dahsyat!! My waist-ache 🫠. And then what I had to do before working under their 🔺 organization 🤣. Brutal. I think they should just stay in the jail. Criminals. And stupid.

Fine. Just give me your Jollibee Spaghetti, chicken strip please. And then we can TALK about business 😒. I don't see your independence businesses here at all. Uhu. Jollibee? I'm talking about my SKILLS honey. But I only like sushi. Ew. Even they make the syshi here. Disgusting

Ho nevermind about the waist-ache it's from both of them and her fb post. Please go marry H. What are you waiting for? I dont get it.

His sex wife vs the brokers be like-

The BROKERS🗣️🐝 are here. Trying to let him use all the electrical as many as possible..

Anyway brokers. Just to REMIND yew.

🙂☹️ I come in peace 🖖🏼 "death be upon you."

Sorry about your death. The annabelle spirit doesn't want anything to do with you. But please do help yourself. As you will. 🇵🇭. Oops my bad.

I told you. It's not you, it's.. idk yet. But I know you are going to support H & S. You must. They are your idol.

Yes.

I come in peace 🖖🏼 death be upon you 🙂☹️ im scared what the fuck

And that is why you were adopted by the Hollywood because you're being STUPID!

Today's generation and with slightly full of hatred on other side society. Could be hard to over populate Brunei Darussalam. But with great distraction 📺🧠😒🤕🧠🧟‍♀️🧟‍♂️👻 (which is me). The future of Brunei Darussalam can make it.

"It's been 84 years."

"You're welcome."

Who these

"Just stay away from me!! You're a coward!!"

"Great food. Thanks for having time to meet meeting me."

*Hit his balls/penis.* If he wanna make baby again. Because im broke. Wtf. Until I get my birth control pill. Thank you very much doctors. You getting paid by rasuah or gaji? How much is it? "Not enough." Too bad. Jangantah berkraja di Brunei Darussalam then?! Bagi tia job mu ah arah orang lain!! Paidah!! Banyak lagi orang Brunei Darussalam kan jadi doctors. Banyak lagi kan difikirkan dang dang!! Kan suruh aku balik2 ke clinic? Jangan harap. Kau ganya kan difikirkan kah?! 🗣️🏴‍☠️🇧🇳. Atu banar!! Balik karang arah slums di negri mu yang over populated ah. "Mah-hu?!" I have smelly pookie and smelly body odor you think that's a coincidence?! I don't think so yew whores. Jangan jadi jahat. 🇧🇳🏴‍☠️.

Divergent movie i live gah

Mendera anak. Ngah dyg pun mendera dulu. Aku nampak cats nya yg basar2, tapi masih jua ia marahi anaknya. I don't like 🐈🐕🐦 cause they don't do anything to over populate Brunei Darussalam. Aku pun sikit lagi mental. Hafizul was very mental pasal ia belum tidur 2-3 hari? (Siapa jua inda mental kalau balum tidur. "okie"). Aku marahi pasal Khaleed nangis tangah2 malam, ertinya mahu nenen. Sebelum aku jadi pendera, Hafizul mesti sakiti aku. Sakiti hati ku pun ada jua (banyak 🤣😂). So it can reminds me of my faults (ill find you when im dead 🏴‍☠️🇧🇳🧙🏻‍♀️🧙🏻‍♂️). I try not to explode. Or else I'll die. Geez. 🏴‍☠️🇧🇳

Manatahu kau nanti terkana.. Like.. Car accident? Car crash? Pendera (sekali saja, don't push it, control)? Pemarah (tapi mama inda sampai tangan. Arah ku sampai tangan pulang)? Kana rasuk? Kahwin 2-3-4 orang bini? Divorcee? Gigi problem? Eye got stabbed? Tergelincir di jamban sampai mati? Cacat? Kana keluarkan dari master bedroom? Ada car but with no aircond? Kana marahi oleh boss inda suruh bekraja lagi must stay di rumah buat chores just live life (lmao, kalau malar kana serbu aku ani pasal stay di rumah kana pajal suruh bekraja untuk orang 🇵🇭 atu bana.... 🤌🏼?🫶🏼? Ew. Sendiri tah kau berkayuh🚲 🤣😂🎬🎥)? Kana tinggalkan somewhere else oleh laki and then laki lupa pick up bini? Jalan2 kaki jauh2? Patah tulang? Sakit pinggang macam orang tua? Sakit tua di katil? Keguguran? Curi cucu (but his/her future wife/husband will kill you.)? Penjara? Drug? Pookie berbau?! Badan berbau macam bau sampah or bau bangkai?! Eczema?!

Entah apa history family mu masa dulu2. Baik tah kau research, tanya saudara-mara mu baik. Ada ciri2 pendera jua pakah. Ku liat ciri2 pemental ada jua. Penjahat. Indakan penjahat. Kana rasuki 🇧🇳🏴‍☠️?? Baiktah bawa berubat.

Bagi hairan jua tu ah. Malar ku fikirkan, "Kenapakan ia malar target aku ani ah? Suruh aku berubat lah, suruh aku ke mental ward lah 😑". Jangan2 ia yang patut berubat. Jangan2 history family mu ada pernah ke mental ward. 🤕. Patutlah ada psycho ward di 🇧🇳🏴‍☠️.. I see it now. Apa masalah ku kan arah mu? Ada kah orang berguna kan laki mu? Ada kah orang berguna kan bini mu? Yang penting Stop kacau aku. STOP LIAT AKU. Mihir jua tu. You think is that fair?

Yang penting aku inda dapat selamatkan masalah mu dan masalah keluarga mu. Ok. Walau apa pun kejahatan kau mahu buat arah ku. Inda kana ampuni tu perbuatan mu atu. Pasal kau sendiri pakai/makan/minum/tidur/breathe apa saja yang kau buat atu. Basically. Living life. Sekian maklum.

Please watch this movie 'Dead Silence' so you can sadar/know why.. Bawa baca doa penyejuk hat. Bawa sembahyang, cakap/berdoa dengan Allah. Bawatah berubat. Bawa dangar lagu metal pakah, dangar lagu Taylor Swift kah, dangar lagu Little Mix kah. Mana ku taho. Sometimes orang sekeliling ni ada jua sifat 🗣️🐦🐕. Hati-hati sha.

Tada

Tada

The most powerful women goes to....

When did this curse started entering 🇧🇳🏴‍☠️?

Curses. Something to think about.

Maybe greedie? Taxes?

Witches..