28.     Five Most Recent Sent Text Messages  @pittmade

indefinite hiatus.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆ 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐦𝐞. 𝐧𝐨𝐰. (VERY USFT!!!!) 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 - send ‘reverse’ for the sender and receiver to swap. adjust wording as needed!

[ grind ] sender straddles receiver’s lap and starts grinding against them, slow and intentional

[ whisper ] sender leans in and whispers exactly what they want to do to receiver in excruciating detail

[ wristgrab ] in the middle of a heated moment, sender pins receiver’s wrists above their head

[ needy ] sender pulls receiver into their lap, desperate and breathless, kissing them like it’s not enough

[ tease ] sender drags their lips and tongue down the length of receiver’s stomach, but stops just before going lower

[ undone ] sender undresses receiver one piece of clothing at a time, dragging it out with loaded glances

[ taste ] sender drops to their knees and starts kissing up the inside of receiver’s thighs

[ lapfull ] sender drags receiver onto their lap in the middle of a conversation, their hands already wandering

[ control ] sender takes full control, guiding receiver’s hands, body, and every motion

[ tug ] sender grips receiver’s hair and yanks their head back to kiss them roughly

[ choke ] sender wraps a hand lightly around receiver’s throat while their lips are barely apart

[ lipbite ] sender bites down on receiver’s bottom lip while grinding against them

[ praise ] in the middle of it all, sender whispers praise between every movement "just like that," "you're doing so good," "don’t stop"

[ beg ] sender makes receiver beg for it

[ mouthy ] sender licks into receiver’s mouth mid-kiss, messy and aggressive

[ suck ] sender sucks a mark into receiver’s neck, possessive and without shame

[ edge ] sender brings receiver right to the brink, over and over, refusing to let them finish

[ wrecked ] sender has one goal: to leave receiver trembling and ruined beneath them

[ needy grind ] clothes still on, sender grinds against receiver until they’re both panting, desperate for more

[ between ] sender slips a hand between receiver’s thighs while whispering, “you’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”

[ ride ] sender pushes receiver down and climbs on top, holding eye contact the entire time

[ spit ] sender leans over and lets spit drip into receiver’s mouth before kissing them hard

[ mess ] clothes scattered, sheets ruined, bodies tangled—sender and receiver didn’t hold back

[ slow ] sender draws everything out. every stroke, every breath, every motion unbearably slow

[ possessive ] sender fucks receiver like they’re trying to make sure no one else ever will

[ overstim ] sender keeps going even after receiver's already shaking from release

[ grip ] sender grabs receiver by the hips, holding them in place while taking full control

[ hot & heavy ] sender and receiver go at it somewhere they absolutely shouldn’t

[ control freak ] sender lets receiver think they're in charge… until they flip the roles mid-way

[ lips everywhere ] sender kisses every part of receiver’s body.

[ breathless ] sender doesn’t let up until receiver is clawing at their back, gasping for air

[ all night ] sender makes sure receiver doesn’t sleep... again, and again, and again

[ tongue ] sender slides their tongue along receiver’s skin, taking their time tasting every inch

[ dark corner ] they don’t make it home! sender drags receiver into a shadowed corner and gets to work

[ eye contact ] sender holds eye contact the entire time they’re going down on receiver

[ mirror ] sender takes receiver in front of the mirror so they can both watch

𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

❝ i want to hear every sound you make. don’t hold back. ❞

❝ get on your knees—now. ❞

❝ you’re not leaving this bed until i say so. ❞

❝ look at you. all mine and dripping for it. ❞

❝ you said 'just one more time' last time, remember? ❞

❝ keep quiet, or they’ll hear. ❞

❝ is this what you wanted? me, like this, ruining you? ❞

❝ you’re shaking—already? we’ve barely started. ❞

❝ i haven’t even touched you yet, and you're already begging. ❞

❝ be good for me and spread your legs. ❞

❝ don’t you dare finish until i tell you to. ❞

❝ you’re going to be the death of me, but i’ll die happy. ❞

❝ say it. say you need me. say it louder. ❞

❝ i could do this all night. want to test me? ❞

❝ if you want more, use your words. ❞

❝ you look so pretty when you beg. ❞

❝ you’re not shy now, are you? ❞

❝ take it. like that. good. ❞

❝ tell me where you want my mouth. ❞

❝ don’t bite your lip—moan. i want to hear it. ❞

his  voice  scrapes  at  something  in  her  chest  —  a  familiar  ache  she  pretends  she  doesn't  recognize.  ❛  mad?  ❜  she  repeats,  a  dry  laugh  hitching  in  her  throat,  it's  more  breath  than  sound.

she  turns  finally,  slowly,  deliberately.  her  eyes  roam,  as  though  searching  for  hidden  pains.  the  split  lip,  the  bruises  blooming  under  his  jaw,  the  stubborn  tilt  of  his  mouth  that  makes  her  want  to  shake  him  and  kiss  him  in  the  same  goddamn  breath.  ❛  i'm  not  mad  but  fuck  —  bradley...  ❜  voice  low  and  splintered  at  the  edges.

she  steps  more  into  his  space.  clinical  precision  fades  in  the  gentle  brush  of  knuckles  to  the  side  of  his  face  that  made  it  out  unscathed.  ❛  you  can't  make  me  keep  watching  you  destroy  yourself.  ❜

Bradley would like to be kind to himself and say this is a novel situation, blood dripping after a drink in some dusty bar. It doesn't matter how justified, the sting after, the come down, still fucking sucks.

"It's okay," he shrugs, wincing, breath whistling past swollen lips. "Not my finest hour." Still, Bradley would do this again. He knows he would.

"You mad," he dares to ask, hating that Gloria's still got her back turned. Her voice says enough, but it's her eyes that Bradley wants to see.

Please! I can't wait to testify!

the  gun  is  still,  but  her  breath  isn’t.  it  slips  through  clenched  TEETH  as  something  she  doesn’t  trust  herself  to  name.  her  eyes  don’t  waver  and  that’s  the  only  thing  that  doesn’t  betray  her.  everything  else,  every  muscle,  every  nerve  ending  is  listening  to  him.  his  words  coil  around  her  like  smoke  in  a  sealed  room;  thick,  unrelenting,  poisonous  and  holy.

he  stands  in  front  of  her  like  a  revenant.  a  memory  reanimated  into  something  hungrier,  rougher  but  not  gone,  and  maybe  that  was  her  penance  for  unearthing  what  should  have  stayed  dead.  she  watches  the  way  he  leans  into  the  barrel,  like  he’s  inviting  annihilation.  like  he  already  knows  she  won’t  give  it  to  him.

and  that’s  what  tips  her.

gloria  moves  before  thought,  a  surge  of  instinct  and  history.  rage,  ache,  and  hunger  burn  under  her  skin  like  shrapnel  hitting  a  nerve.  she  lifts  her  hand,  the  barrel  close  enough  now  that  it  kisses  his  chin  at  the  juncture  between  flesh  and  mask.  she  knows  he'll  find  her  and  haunt  her, and  she  will  let  him  in  every  single  time.

❛  you’re  right.  i  don’t  want  control  and  i  don't  need  permission  either.  ❜  her  voice  serrated,  low  and  trembling  with  something  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  fear.  her  free  hand  curls  in  his  shirt,  dragging  him  tighter  against  her.  she  wants  to  feel  the  pulse  of  him  and  plead  to  the  man  beneath.

❛  and  you,  what  about  you,  querido?  ❜  she  leaned  in,  her  nose  brushed  his  mask,  mouth  hovering  at  the  edge  of  his  jaw,  and  then  so  suddenly.  CLICK  —  that's  all  it  was:  an  empty  game  of  roulette  she  never  loaded.  a  sound  so  deafening  despite  being  so  small.  She  pulls  back  just  enough  to  look  at  him,  really  look  at  him.  ❛ i  could  always  see  you,  you  know.  all  that  hurt  i  could  sink  my  teeth  into  like  you  tore  into  mine.  ❜

she  holds  a  beat  like  she's  unhinging  her  maw.  ❛  but  you’re  wrong  about  one  thing  ❜  a  push  off  his  frame,  empty  clip  snapped  out  of  the  pistol,  and  the  entirety  falls  to  the  ground.  her  eyes  don't  leave  him,  emotions  too  deep  to  remain  buried  and  twice  as  volatile  as  the  heart  on  her  sleeve.  ❛  i  don’t  want  to  pretend  i’m  better  than  you.  i  want  to  believe  i  wasn’t  always  just  like  you,  but  we  both  know  that's  not  true,  don't  we?  ❜

🔫 [ something tells me it's fucked up but hot though? the one time she can't pull the trigger but should. 🫦 ]

POINT A GUN AT MY MUSE PROMPT. | @waruins

that barrel's not cold. that is what gloria doesn't realize. it's not trembling in her grip. but he can feel the hesitation affecting her. and jigsaw? he feeds on that.

it's not wanton glee or the mockery you'd get from an overperforming circus clown. he has a hunger that lives in the marrow of his bones. the version of him before wouldn't flinch. neither would the one that came back from the mirror.

    ❝ now this—this is the good part. ❞ his voice scrapes out. it's rusted and sharp, like heavy metal dragged across the asphalt. there's a twisted reverence that overrode any delight or scorn he might have derived from his grim circumstances.

his devilish audacity compels him to tempt his fate and step closer. to dare her finger to twitch against the trigger because he invaded her space now, in her head, and still—he’s unafraid of death.

    ❝ oh, go on. ❞ the virtually masked eyes flick to the muzzle that was ready to bark at any second. he wonders what dark whispers it put in her head to make her believe this was the right move. ❝ do it. i’d let you. right here. right now! permission to kill, soldier! ❞

the mask covers the jagged and lopsided grin. it shields her from the ruin, but not the dark dare. his head cocks, wolfish, a second away from acting on the impulse to tear into her for the cowardice alone.

    ❝ i think you want me close. i think you want me to bleed for you. break for you. and maybe even burn you a little and call it worship. ❞ he says it like it was a secret passed between their sinner selves of a previous life. a gospel carved into the wall of some brig.

    ❝ i think this little gun? ain’t punishment. it’s one of our fucked up foreplays. ❞ because it felt familiar. it seemed like some shit he'd be into with a girl like her in his past. his hand lifts slowly—measured, not threatening—fingers brushing against the side of the coal-black barrel like he’s petting it. like it's her hair. his thumb grazes the slide, the tension point of unceremonious death, and he sighs like he's tasted the most exquisite dish for his last day on earth.

    ❝ you don’t want control, gloria. you want permission. you want to see what you are when you stop pretending you're better than me. as if we didn't fly the same colors for our country. ❞ his other hand reaches—not to her, but to his own chest. he taps it once. twice. thrice. firm. he leans in and whispers rot in her ear:

    ❝ squeeze the trigger. i’ll still come back for you, gloria. even if you break me. even if you kill me. i'll crawl outta hell and find you, sweetheart. ❞ then—he steps back. but it's barely an inch away. it's enough to see her beautiful trepidation in her eyes. enough to see if his words led to them softening or hardening. jigsaw grins again.

 ❝ now what’s it gonna be, angel? you gonna make uncle sam proud? or are you scared it’ll feel too fucking good? ❞

❛  i  don't  know  why  you're  telling  me.  i'm  not  involved.  you  made  that,  very  clear.  ❜

holt & diaz quote starters // @bychuck ( frankiiiieee )

Black Hawk Down (2001)

she  finds  silence  after  a  non-committal  hum.  unreactive  and  broken  into  far  worse  over  far  less  because  at  least  he  wasn't  swinging  fists  over  care.  antiseptic  soaking  into  broken  flesh,  the  scent  of  it  filled  the  air;  sharp,  clean,  trying  too  hard  to  cover  the  deeper  wounds  underneath.  like  it  always  did.  ❛  in  the  job  description  to  make  at  least  a  bit  of  fuss.  ❜  gloria  doesn't  offer  a  forced  line  of  reassurance  to  coddle  irritation  or  pride;  she  grasps  the  local  syringe  instead  and  warns.  ❛  you'll  feel  a  pinch  and  some  burning.  ❜

no  softness,  no  special  kindness.  just  the  flat,  practiced  efficiency  of  someone  who  had  seen  too  many  men  tear  themselves  apart  trying  to  prove  they  didn’t  feel  anything.  no  time  was  wasted,  of  course.  needle  unlodged  from  muscle  and  bone,  discarded  with  a  twitch  of  her  jaw.  ❛  depends  on  a  few  things  because  if  you  caught  someone's  tooth,  you'll  need  more  than  just  a  couple  stitches.   ❜  pattern  of  movement  like  the  most  practiced  dance,  no  hesitation,  no  inadequacies.  she'd  learned  the  moment  she  exchanged  one  war  zone  for  another;  overseas  or  cityscape,  there  was  no  room  for  mistakes  or  squandered  seconds.

❛  nothing  bubbled  up,  so  you're  in  the  clear.  still  need  stitches.  ❜  she  paused.  standing  to  snap  off  an  old  pair  of  gloves  for  anew.   ❛  assuming  you  want  dissolving  stitches,  save  you  another  trip  and  time  wasted.  ❜

he held no ill-will against her personally, it was the vulnerability of being exposed that made his jaw clench & his skin crawl. even with a quiet voice, he felt a tingle in his spine. a reminder that he couldn’t do this on his own. sighing through his nose, calloway raised his hand & grimaced at the movement, but it was more at the sight of the angry skin that was flushed with shades of pink & red.

his eyebrows twisted as he pinched his lips into a thin line. “ it ain’t that bad. no reason to make a damn fuss, y’know. ”

it had been his fault. calloway conveniently left that piece of information out when he came to get things checked over. but why would he admit that he lost control over his temper? the station knew he had a short fuse & it often got shorter when he was put in a room with people who pushed his buttons. if anyone was to blame, it was the suspect who went too far, but as captain jones reminded him, calloway should have been in more control. it was the same old song & dance only this time, he not only injured a suspect, he also injured himself.

“ this isn’t gonna take long, is it? ” he asked as his jaw tightened as the lights overhead buzzed in his ears making him shift in his seat.

❛ i could never be the one to love you. i can only be the one that kills you. ❜ @putrefacerem

she  lets  the  silence  that  follows  stretch,  taut  and  trembling.  notions  of  self-preservation  died  with  her  girlhood;  war  reconstructed  her  into  a  walking  grave.  making  it  off  the  battlefield,  alive  meant  she's  really  only  living  on  borrowed  time,  death  lying  in  wait.  she’s  not  a  soldier  anymore,  she’s  not  even  just  a  doctor.  she’s  the  woman  who  lets  a  monster  drink  from  her  throat  and  bandages  the  bite  like  it  doesn't  mean  anything.  a  woman  who  tells  herself  she’s  doing  it  out  of  pragmatism,  routine,  a  mutual  benefit  —  nothing  more.

gloria  should  feel  powerful,  shouldn’t  she?  he  needs  her.  her  blood,  her  pulse,  her  will,  and  he  feeds  because  she  allows  it.  yet  somehow,  mínluben  is  still  in  control.  she  watches  him,  that  ruin  of  a  mouth,  those  eyes  that  look  too  long  and  hard.  like  he’s  piercing  the  depth  of  her  soul  and  measuring  her  worth  through  every  sin,  and  she  pretends  it  doesn’t  hurt.  ❛  and  why  haven't  you?  ❜  maybe  the  tragedy  is  knowing  she'd  let  him  because  when  the  teeth  pierce  skin,  it  feels  like  she’s  needed,  really  needed.  impossible  to  count  how  many  times  she'd  cursed  an  empty  sky,  demanding  a  trade  of  her  life  for  the  fallen  beneath  her  palm.  under  the  heavy  framework  of  her  grief,  to  die  as  sustenance  to  life  doesn't  make  her  feel  any  ounce  of  fear.  she  steps  closer,  haunted  honey  gaze  sought  him  out.  near  enough  that  the  scent  of  ichor  would  invade  his  solitude.  her  neck  tilts  into  the  smoke  of  her  challenge.  ❛  what's  stopping  you?  it's  right  here.  ❜