#YES I CRIED AGAIN I CRY EVERY TIME WHATS IT TO YA

[bleezebrew]

It was at this moment bleeze knew that they had fucked up.

[starkeyisthelastname]

How would reader react when pornstar!rafe comes over to her place after filming a scene with someone else ?

just know pornstar!rafe is a pussy destroyer 😰

It was the text you got, reading ‘Can’t, I’m busy.’ Followed by, ‘Filming a scene today.’ That left you feeling some type of way and you weren’t sure why. Okay, maybe you knew exactly why and that was the more dick he gave you, the more you wanted him. You were both pornstars though, and his job was to fuck women on camera and get paid for it. You couldn’t be jealous. It was inevitable that he would have to film.

As the day went on, you couldn’t stop thinking about Rafe. Some other female pornstar was getting her guts fucked out by him right now, and you weren’t the one getting to experience it. This man had a chokehold on you and you were becoming addicted to the way he made you feel. He was raw, confident, dirty, and didn’t give a fuck about what anyone else said or thought.

You hadn’t even realized you had fallen asleep as you were startled out of a dream by a pounding on your door. You rubbed your eyes, making your way down the hall and towards the front. You should have looked through the peephole, hell it could have been someone trying to break in, but you opened it anyway against your better judgement. It was Rafe’s massive self storming in that had you fully waking up to realize what was going on.

“Can’t answer a fuckin phone?” He asked, blue eyes peering at you almost predatory as he stalked closer.

“I fell asleep, and why do you even care? You were busy.” You said, evident jealousy dripping from your tongue. You crossed your arms, a challenging sparkle in your pretty eyes as he stared at you for moment. He chuckled, his intimidating height towering over you as he stepped closer.

“Why are you acting jealous for, huh? Gettin too damn attached to this dick, aren’t ya?” He spoke low, large hand coming up to grab your throat. His mustache tickled your lips as he leaned down to look in your eyes. “I like money too much to stop fuckin, pretty girl. You remember what, I said though?” He asked, squeezing your neck harder.

Your eyes couldn’t help but roll back as you were a freak off pain. He pulled away from your face, his lips ghosting over toward your ear as he began to speak. “You are my own personal whore now, yeah? So when I call, you answer the fuckin phone the first time.” He spat harshly in your ear.

You weren’t sure what this weird fucked up situation was that you two were in, but you knew you loved every second of it. He was fucking your life all the way up, his hands digging into your scalp to use your hair as reins as he brutally pounded into your sopping hole.

“Take that shit up your fuckin cunt.” Rafe grunted, toned hips moving at a rapid pace as his thick cock stretched your poor hole out. Your legs were bent back, knees touching your chest as he railed you into oblivion on your own couch.

You were crying from the sheer roughness and pleasure that he was giving to you. A babbling mess, as you fell victim to his nasty ways once again. You were getting too attached to his dick, but what did he expect when he fucked you the way he did. You were soaking his cock, his fat length sliding in and out your messy cunt as he drilled into you.

His body leaned down, his hand yanking your head back roughly so that you were forced to look at him. “This is my fuckin pussy to ruin. You understand that?” He asked, his stache tickling your lips as he tightened the grip on your hair. “You better fuckin answer me when I’m talking to you.”

You let out a gasp, wincing at the burn to your scalp as you were forced to look into darkened blue irises and answer him. “Yes Rafe… a-all yours!” You cried out, earning a vicious laugh from him as he straightened his massive stance back out. He was just as addicted to you and knew you were about to fuck his life all the way up. Just in a completely different kinda way he hadn’t experienced before.

[keanusbabydoll]

JEALOUSY

paring: daryl dixon x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ content, dom!daryl, unprotected p in v, spanking, degrading, praising, rough sex, daddy kink, punishment, doggy style, porn with no plot

wordcount: 1.8k

a/n: i’m so sorry for not posting but college was stressing me out way too much and i got sick a few days ago… but here i am- blessing you with daryl dixon smut ;)

MDNI

𑁍ꨄ❦❥𖣔✰༄⁂᯽𖦹☾♡♥✯☼᪥⍟ꨄఌ❦𑁍𖣘★���༄❁᯽✫

“slow d-down.” is what you managed to squeak out before daryl pushed your face into the mattress of your shared bed. he had you in doggy style; angry, jealous, aggressive. his dick was hammering into your abused hole in an punishing way, never planning on slowing down or going gentle.

“ya don’t get ta tell me what ta do.” he growled out as he gripped your hips’ flesh tighter and reached around your middle to spank your pussy, eliciting a loud, muffled cry from you. you were spasming beneath him, wishing he would be more softer. but not with daryl.

and all that just because you went on a hunt with rick. daryl knew that rick was interested in you, found you attractive. he told you many times before that he didn’t like it when you spend time with rick. he was a very possessive man. you were only his. hell, if it were up to him, he’d blow a fist to every guy’s jaw who just looked at you too long for his liking. but you were bored, daryl was out as well, so you decided to just join him, not thinking about the consequences.

“goin’ out with rick. fuckin’ slut.” he continued, his pace just increasing and getting even rougher. “i thought ya knew better.”

he kept pushing his whole length into your pussy as he landed a harsh slap to your ass. “count.” he said before gripping the roots of your hair, pulling your body slightly up.

smack.

his free hand landed another stinging slap to your ass cheek.

“one.” you whimpered out, body surging forward from the sudden sensation.

smack.

“two.” you cried out as the first few tears that formed in the corner of your eyes began to pour down your face.

smack.

“t-three.”

“ya ever gonna do tha’ again without ma permission?” daryl snarled, his grip just tightening and his hips started to pound you in an animalistic pace, letting out all of his pent up anger and frustration. you tried to wriggle out of his grip, trying to get away from his torture but it was useless.

“speak.” he ordered furiously as he landed another hit to your ass.

“n-no. i promise.” you moaned out, eyes tightly shut.

“good.” he mumbles before he slapped your ass for the last time, using all of his strength, wanting you to suffer and realize what you’ve done wrong. jolts of stinging pain cursed through your whole body and a scream escaped your mouth.

daryl chuckled darkly in reply and smirked pleasingly to himself to see his fire red handprint on your ass. at that point you were a whimpering mess but you would have lied if you said you didn’t like it. daryl pushing you to your limits was definitely something you enjoyed even though it was really intense.

with his hand still tangled in your hair, he pulled you up against his chest, hips still thrusting in the same, rough pace like before. sometimes you wondered how that man could have such a great stamina- you had been going for one hour already.

“do ya like it when daddy punishes ya?” daryl rasped in your ear, his hot breath fanning on your neck. “yes!” you squeak out, throwing your head back against his chest. you didn’t even fully register his words, being to caught up by the feeling of his cock kissing that one spot that made you see stars. a spot you didn’t even know existed before you had met daryl.

and the new position only allowed him to hit it better, to hit it more intensely. your legs felt like giving out and the pleasure you received brought you closer and closer to your release. daryl smacked one of your breasts harshly before twisting and pulling on a nipple, making you whine out in pain. “is ma lil’ slut gonna cum?” he groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock- always a sign for him that you’re close.

“fuck! yess, daddy. i’m so-so close!” you cried out, voice latched with desperation. you needed this release dearly. he had edged you for the past hour and your core was burning for an orgasm.

you heard him chuckle darkly as he wrapped a hand around your throat with a firm grip and turned your head sharply only to claim your lips in a messy, heated kiss. “beg for it.” he mumbled against your lips, his free hand gliding down your sides and hips before reaching your pussy.

you whined out in frustration but kissed him back hungrily. “please d-daddy! let me cum! i’ll be a good girl, i promise. i only belong to you, only you can make me cum!” you pleaded him, trying your best to hold your orgasm in, but with daryl rubbing your swollen clit, it’s almost impossible.

“ma good girl.” he whispered before pulling you in again. “ya are allowed ta cum.” he sped up his hips, the sound of your skin clapping together growing louder and his digits circled your clit faster. your moans and cry’s were muffled by his mouth and you were at the verge of cumming, just mere seconds away.

with a last thrust of daryl’s hip, hitting your special spot roughly, he sent you over the edge. you tore away from his lips and let out a sinful scream, letting him know how good he made you feel. your eyes were tightly shut as you let your orgasm crash through you, feeling it in every single part of your body. daryl fucked you through your high, wanting you to experience it to its last bit- but also chasing his own.

he harshly pushed your upper body forward again, grabbed both your wrists and held them tightly behind your back. his head leaned back in ecstasy, the feeling of your velvety walls making him go feral. he used his whole strength fucking into you, being extremely close to his orgasm. you couldn’t contain your screams anymore, the overstimulation sending shock waves through your whole body. his free hand gripped your hip as he used you as his own personal fuck toy, only thinking about his pleasure. “fuck, gonna fill this pretty pussy up.” he growled.

and when your walls clamped down on his dick firmly, he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. with a guttural groan and stuttering hips, he spurted his seed deep inside of you, painting your perfect walls in white. your eyes rolled back at the feeling of his cum filling you to the brim- something you’ve always enjoyed.

finally, after a few more thrusts, daryl’s pounding came to an halt and he breathed out heavily. “fuck.” he groaned as he slowly pulled out of your slick hole, both of you moaning at the loss. he released both your wrists before he collapsed beside you, a hand placed on his chest- dearly trying to catch his breath. you laid there motionless, you were completely fucked out and exhausted from his sweet torture.

���c’mere baby.” daryl whispered as he pulled your form into his embrace. he snuggled up against your back, his face nestling in the crook of your neck while a hand around your waist pulled you in closer. “ya did so good for me.”

you didn’t reply, your mind was still clouded with the intense after waves of your orgasm. “i wasn’t too rough, was i?” daryl suddenly asked, sounding more concerned now, considering the fact that you hadn’t said a word or moved a single muscle.

“maybe a little, but i liked it.” you tiredly mumbled but still with a smirk plastered on your face. daryl chuckled at your reply and kissed your cheek, relieved that you enjoyed it. “i love you, y/n.”

“i love you more.” you replied before drifting off into a deep sleep.

REQUESTS ARE OPENED!!!

[defmaybe]

I guess I should wait for you to make this idea fic from me...

Bunny hybrid Jihan in heat lets you to breed her, but she's riding you even after you cum inside her multiple times

@leafostuff, this is for ya

Spice

Weeekly's Han Jihyo/Jihan x Male Reader

400 words

The sound of your flesh smacking into each other reverberates through this small apartment. The scent of your orange body wash permeates the sex you’re having with Jihyo—guess she washed you a bit too well. What’s in front of you is your girlfriend riding your soul out of your fragility. Her chest bounces with every movement of hers—such a hypnotic sight. While on your dick, waves and waves of pleasure are surging onto you.

“J–Jihyo, please, I can’t cum more than once.” Your shaken plea brings out a giggle from her.

“Oh, baby, it’s my night, remember? You said so yourself!” she mocks.

Only whimpers leave your lips. You just can’t betray your own words right now.

Jihyo can be aggressive with her ride a little too much, too many times. She usually fucks you with an assertion that leaves her lengthy ears graze your shoulders at each bounce.

The familiar knot forms inside your stomach—an impending doom for you, a go sign for her. Your grip on her waist grows tighter.

“I’m g–gonna–”

And that’s it. Your cock shoots loads and loads of semen inside her for the first time of the night. It cries; it twitches inside of her warm cunt, as her velvety walls grip your length so tightly that stars sparkle in your eyes.

But she doesn’t stop there, you know that. She never relents her pace for your achings. Instead, she ups her ante to send sharp pains through your body.

“Fuck!” you cry out.

Jihyo chuckles. Her breasts are bouncing even faster, as her body is determined to make you cum again—and possibly black out in the process.

She taps your nose lightly. “Cum inside me again and I’ll reward you with a good night’s rest, baby.”

“Ngh, hnn,” is what you can say.

Jihyo slams her ass on your crotch at a neck-breaking pace, smiling. Each stroke is brimmed with her cute smile—one that can melt the heart of everyone. But most of the feelings are still pain and soreness and agony.

Once again, without the anticipation of the gleeful first time, another familiar knot forms inside of you. Fuck, you can just pass out right now. Everything is so intense—the sensations, her smiles, her giggles, her cute ears, her tail, her–

“Fuck!”

And once more, it breaks. You spill another load of cum deep into her. It’s nothing but sharp pain through you. And she just does nothing but laugh at your predicament.

“Yes, yes, cum inside me, baby. I want it all.”

And that’s the last thing you hear before it goes black.

–

[roseboysstuff]

idk how to do requests its my first time doing this but could you do Shiro from voltron legendary defender x ftm reader?

Spoilers if ya havent watched it!!

Ok so like yk where that one episode Shiro disappeared and came back after a year and he just immediately went to reader and just fucks him.... soft dom Shiro brainrot... can be a mix of fluff and smut also u can do this req anytime u want no pressure (i have bad memory so i'll eventually forget this LMAO and i lovelovelove how u write i THRIVE with it)

You don't have to worry about spoiling the series to me, I've watched it all over and over Little note about the show : I actually enjoyed it all, even season 8. The only think I don't like is allura x lance, and that Lotor was a bad guy. Allura and lotor should have got together, and lance and keith should have got together. I would also accept keith and shiro.

And thanks for the compliment! I'm glad you like how I write honestly most of it is word vomit so I'm glad others like it too

He had been through hell. Being kidnapped by the Galra had made him mentally exhausted. But most of all. He had missed you.

You. You were his everything. The thought of you had gotten him through his imprisonment. He had almost given in plenty of times. But the memory of your smile, the way you would say his name, and the idea of one day seeing you again, it all kept him going.

And when he managed to escape? All he could think about was you. The ride back to earth in that escape pod was harsh, and he was drifting in and out of consciousness. But he could have sworn he whispered your name throughout the whole trip.

When Keith and the gang rescued him, he begged them to take him back to you. Which they happily obliged.

The reunion was tearful, and he whispered your name over and over like a prayer, holding you tightly until you were just both crying on the floor, embraced.

"I missed you. So much. I'm here, sweetheart, I'm alive. I'm with you."

He kept apologising, and you almost couldn't believe it was real. Takashi Shirogane, your Shiro, was back. You'd been led to believe he was dead. All of the military and all your friends had told you to give up. You'd grieved and cried for months.

And now he was back. You didn't blame him, of course, and so you shut up his apologies with a kiss. You were desperate to feel his lips on yours again, to feel his warmth, to confirm that he was really alive and here with you. He eagerly reciprocated the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled away, about to apologise for the coldness of his new arm, but you just kissed him again.

It was cold, yes, but you didn't care. You wanted your arms around you, no matter what they were made of.

It didn't take long until you were heavily making out, drinking in the taste of each other. He held the back of your head with one hand, with the other sliding down to grasp at your hip. He was unwilling to let go. Neither were you.

He barely managed to pull away enough to pick you up and carry you to the bed, pulling you onto his lap. And it was straight back to kissing again, tearing off each other's clothes, lost in a hazy fog of need, want, love and lust.

There was no need for more foreplay than this. You were completely soaked, and he was hard as a rock. You were ready. Ready to feel his big cock stretching you out. Which it did.

Before he was kidnapped, you were a little more accomodating, considering you were used to taking his cock. But this time, as you sank down, you could feel every vein on his cock, as it stretched you out for the first time in nearly a year.

"Gods... you're so tight, baby boy. Am i hurting you? If I am, we can stop and-"

Well you were having none of that. You sank yourself fully down on his cock, causing you to whimper and him to throw his head back in pleasure, a chesty moan leaving his throat.

"Oh, wow. You're just as voracious as I remember. That's my good little prince, bounce on my cock. Please, baby boy."

How could you refuse such a humble request? Your hips instantly got moving, bouncing and grinding and gyrating. No particular rhythmn, just the desperate need to be together as one. And it was heaven. For both of you.

He was seeing the person who had gotten him through the worst times of his life, bouncing and moaning on his cock. Seeing your hair bounce, your eyes shut, and your mouth wide in a silent O shape. It only fueled his lust, and he started to thrust back.

The rhythmn of your bodies meeting only got less steady as you both got close, and you found yourself clutching onto him for dear life. He was doing the same. Your bodies were impossibly close, not even an atom of space between you, as you both climaxed, crying out the other's name. His hot seed filled your cunt up, and your cunt in turn clenched and milked his cock. it was ecstacy.

As you came down from your orgasms, neither of you let go. How could you? You had both spent the past year begging the universe to give you one more chance, you weren't going to let go.

He kissed your neck and face, a big grin on his face.

"I missed you, missed this. Oh, baby boy, you have no idea."

[aleenuhs]

heyyy can I request something where sadie and female r get into an argument, and sadie says something really hurtful that causes r to run away in tears. fluffy ending pls!

⋆Soft Spot

thank u xx

warnings: sadie is a bit toxic, she's rude to reader but then she makes up for it, fluff, crying, angst, slight cursing, reader referred to as "girl" and some other petnames, reader is sensitive, implied enemies to lovers

word count: 1.5k

Sadie wasn't one to know how to control her words and what they meant, so when she was angry, it was a different story. This time, you got the short end of the stick, and she was angry at you.

You, Sadie, John, and a few others had just gotten back from a botched bank mission and Sadie blamed you for the way it went, claiming that you screwed up your little act that John suggested you do as a distraction. You all had escaped just by a hair, the law was right on your guys's tails.

When you got back, she took you to your shared tent and sat you down, then paced around before she spoke, hand on her chin, face an angry red.

"You--" She spoke, her words cut short as she thought on how to word this. She was that angry to where she couldn't speak.

"I'm sorry Sadie, I didn't mean to mess up that bad..." You stammered, and she scoffed at your effort. Sometimes she could be so angry, so mean, but so lovable at the same time. She could love you, then be angry at you for days on end if you messed up.

But you got used to it as those lines blurred, you just walked on your tippy toes around her, in a worry that if you mess up, she'll leave.

"We asked one thing of ya', and you just had to screw that up too, huh?" She had a tone, one that indicated she could only progressively get worse from here on out. You sat there on the cot and watched her clench her fists and teeth, her breathing was rapid and her face flushed red. You looked down at your hands, then you could hear a sigh come out of her mouth. "Couldn't you have done better, no?" She asked, you hoped it was a rhetorical question because you were too afraid to respond.

"Answer me. Couldn't you have saved this from going to shit, girl?" She got closer to you, almost as if to speak down to you, like you were a child, like you meant nothing.

The truth was you tried, but it didn't work, and that's what really messed the job up. A man came up to you and started to get touchy feely with you when he heard your pleas for help outside the bank. You started to get scared, and ran inside, exposing what the others were doing.

"I... Yes, I could've." You blurted out, scared, holding yourself. Its like she was purposefully provoking you, to get a rise out of you.

Sadie clicked her tongue.

"Y'make me hurt," She murmured out and then cursed under her breath. "Go." She said louder this time, and you didn't budge.

"I'm sorry, I can make it up to you, please." You said almost silently but desperately, in order to make Sadie happy with you again, you sounded incredibly desperate, but it was all or nothing, and you couldn't loose her.

You realize that not even John was angry at you, and if he was, he wasn't this angry.

Maybe you were sensitive, as a little girl, that's what most people called you. Your father was a bit harder on you, and your mom didn't even try to discipline you. You were laughed at because of how easily you cried when being yelled at.

You had an incredibly easy-to-find soft spot, and every time it made you seem lesser than the person yelling at you.

It lead you to think that messing up was this horrible thing, all you could do was apologize and hope they wouldn't get angry at you. Hence this, you'd mentioned it to Sadie, and here she was.

When she realized you weren't moving, she got a bit more vocal. "Can't you hear me?" She said angrily, "I don't want you to act all fuckin' stupid and clueless like you usually are, go!" She yelled over your attempt to apologize, and you're sure that whoever was around heard it. How forceful it was, how it made your nose burn and tears enter your eyes, It wasn't a sob, they were silent tears. You angrily wiped them away, getting up and running off. You could feel someone staring at you as you ran out, and it was embarrassing.

You ran to the nearby river bank and sat down, hiding your face, sobbing loudly. Your tears dampening your pants as your legs came to your chest, the hot sun beating on your exposed neck, making you uncomfortable all around.

You loved Sadie so much, and you knew she loved you too, but it hurt to love her so much.

Meanwhile, Sadie sat on the cot, thinking about what she'd said to you. Thinking about it deeply. She remembered how scared you looked, and how you mentioned the treatment you were dealt when you were just a little girl.

You needed someone, and she felt like a jerk for not being that for you. For scolding you like like a bad dog. She could feel the anger washing off of her, being replaced with regret and hate for what she just did to you, how she yelled at you without a care in the world. What made her feel worse was how easily she could treat you like shit.

She got up and put on her brown hat and walked out in a search to find you and apologize to you.

After minutes of trying to find you, she sees you balled up, crying by the river bank. She stands over you, watching you for a moment before she kneels down and puts her hand on your shoulder, rubbing it ever so slightly.

"Darlin'," she speaks softly, a contrast from her usual voice.

You didn't dare look at her, not even move, you wiped away your tears, you can hear her start to speak but then retire. "I.. er, I'm sorry." She mumbled out, and you could tell she was trying, but not yet would you give it up to her.

"I jus' wanna hear ya.. please talk to me, honey." She sounded desperate, and at once, the tables were turned. She leans her head against your shoulder, slightly nudging you. "Can you just look at me, please?" She begged, a slight tremble in her words, but her accent still clearer than day.

You slowly rose your head from between your legs and looked up at her. It all hit her at once, she felt like the bad guy, like the shitty person. But you still didn't speak to her, instead you let her do the talking.

"Will you forgive me? I know I messed up real bad. I remember what you told me 'bout your parents- how they treated you."

"That man was getting weird with me and you still take it out on me, I don't know Sadie." You admitted, and she nodded seeing where her faults lie.

"Yeah. I know this ain't your fault, it never was." She put her hand behind your neck and brung you closer as you two sat on the grassy area, she stroked your hair, trying to soothe you, she could feel you shake a bit. Sadie never understood how hurtful her words could really be, until now. "m'too hard on you," she said softly, grabbing for your hand and taking it, rubbing your knuckles. "I need to learn to love you better."

You nod and look at her, your watery eyes clearing up, but it's not like you weren't still hurt by her words, that was a given. But the way she looked at you made your heart hurt, you knew she meant it. "Yeah," was all you could muster out.

"Come here," she said, her arms were open for you. "Please?" She watched as you look at her and hesitate for a moment before you hugged her. She pulled you into her lap and hugged you tightly. "I'm sorry." She repeated again.

"I know," you said, nodding.

"Can I kiss you?" She said, in an attempt to make you feel better.

You nod and the tears start to fall again, and you feel bad. She kisses your cheek and softly speaks, "don't cry." She reaches up and wipes away the tears that stained your cheeks, using her thumb to wipe them off your lips and she pulls you in so she can kiss you. You feel like a mess.

It made you feel slightly better, the way she was trying, and that was all it took. She hugged you like you were all she had, and really, you were. When you two first met, you couldn't stand her, and she couldn't stand you, but somehow it's what brought you two together. You don't exactly remember how she ended up loving you, but you knew she was the first to fall and since then, it's been a ride with her.

You do remember that you tripped her up one time after she took all your coffee beans, and another time you got her back by eating her food that was meant for her, and she got angry, but it made you happy to see her angry.

Now, you were in her arms and she was comforting you. Neither of you could ever imagine hating each other again, even when stuff like this happened.

[pascal-princess]

[ playing dangerous ]

a/n: this is my first ever fic so pls be kind!! also not proofread so any mistakes i apologise.

— warnings : dark fic (18+), joel isn’t what you think in this, domestic abuse! (not joel), drugging, dom!joel, big!joel/small!reader, age gap (not mentioned but it’s there, around 26 years), kidnap if you squint ig. + plus tommy.

“Joel it’s all kickin’ off next door man”

Tommy’s voice filled his ears through the phone as he sighed… not again… surely.

“What this time?”

“It’s that dude, I ain’t gotta clue what his problem is but she’s gettin’ the brunt of it yet again” Tommy’s eyes scanned through the blinds that were peeled apart by his fingers, peering into your window trying to get a good visual of what was going on.

This had been going on for the past few months, your boyfriend Rick had a bad gambling addiction… and based on his results you’d either get pounded brutally into the bed as his victory celebration, despite your cries. Or… like today; a hissy fit which every time without fail, resulted in bruises and tears, as his anger at his loss seemed to be all your fault.

This time; tommy could hear the heavy thuds of furniture being thrown across rooms, and twinkles of glass that smashed beneath your feet. He could hear the soft whimpers and sobs that left your body as Rick practically screamed at you.

“it’s all your fault you fuckin’ bitch, you make me do this”

“Joel what do i do, man? I can’t jus’ leave er’”

“Stay where you are, I’m comin’ home”

Joel hung up the phone and got into his pick-up truck and began the short drive home; he knew you were a sweetheart, a soft innocent angel who wouldn’t hurt a fly. You always smiled at him and even once baked him cookies, which he admired for a good few days before throwing his diet out the window, consuming the gooey chocolate chip delights you made. He couldn’t understand why you stayed, why you let Rick treat you the way he did. He also couldn’t understand how Rick could treat you such a way.

Maybe you were secretly an awful person, he thought… or hoped. Because the thought of someone as kind and caring as you receiving the exact opposite just because of the fact that you won’t fight back killed him inside. He refused to admit the feeling of jealousy that ached inside of him; but he often thought of what it’d be like to hold you at night, to be the man to make you smile, to wipe away your tears instead of being the dick that caused them.

His anger grew more and more as he approached his driveway, speeding up a bit as he swerved in and pulled to a halt, the tires screeching against the concrete. He threw open his door and made the short walk to your front porch, knuckles thumping against the wood as he waited for a response… that was when he realised… silence.

He banged again and called your name this time, willing you for a response. You could’ve heard a pin drop, and it was scaring him.

He was just about to kick the door down when he heard the lock of the door flick, and watched as it slowly peeled open, too slow.

“Joel?” your cracking voice called his name and he could’ve burst into tears himself.

“Sweetheart, ya’ alright?” he pushed open the door a little more to get a view of your face, and god he wished he hadn’t.

“Honey” He sighed, eyeing the swelling bruise that imprinted itself onto your cheek, the redness of your face from crying just intensifying it.

“Joel, please just go” you kept yourself hidden, yes, Rick was gone. He walked out as soon as he was finished releasing his stress, with the words “i’ll be back later” but you still felt the quivers of fear make their way through your body.

“I can’t do that, you know i can’t” His hands were placed on his hips as he scanned everywhere he could for more marks, and all he could see was bruises, old and new, littered across your arms. Even the softness of your feet covered in dried blood from stepping on the glass.

When that caught his eye he knew you needed attention.

“Right, you’re comin’ over so i can get ya cleaned up” He reached for your hand but you pulled back abruptly.

“I can’t, Joel. I can’t leave”

“Then i’ll carry you”

“You don’t get it!” you raised your voice a little louder to get the message across.

“You’re right, I don’t get it. But I ain’t gonna leave you alone right now so you either move, or I move ya myself”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t gonna let up, so you made the brave decision to step outside… wincing as your feet made contact with the hard stone below you. Joel was there right away, scooping you up into his arms and hoisting you on one side of his hip as his other hand closed your front door. He eyed you for a moment, making sure he wasn’t hurting you before making his way over to his house.

All the fear coursing through your veins dulled as you felt joel’s touch, he was much bigger than you which at the start intimidated you, but now all you wanted to do was crawl into his embrace and let him take care of your problems.

Joel was one of your favourite people; when you moved in you two immediately hit it off, becoming very quick friends. From what you heard from Tommy, Joel wasn’t the type of person to be overly nice to everyone he meets, but you were different. He would always help you out when you had issues with the plumbing or gas, as Rick was never interested in doing any of that. He would bring over leftovers for you as he knew you struggled to eat after a particularly bad fight. Basically anytime Rick wasn’t there, Joel was. Insisting on taking care of you when things went wrong. Helping you get out of bed, and brushing your hair for you on the worst days.

Tommy was already waiting with the front door open, allowing Joel inside as he carried you through the threshold.

“She alright?” Tommy asked and Joel nodded slightly, taking you through to the kitchen and perching you up on the counter, picking up your leg and inspecting your foot for the first time.

“You gotta’ start wearing shoes, sweetheart”

You gave a slightly amused breath at his words but he wasn’t laughing in the slightest. He was angry.

Angry at me? you thought

He moved to one of the cupboards, pulling out a first aid kit and making his way back to you, pulling a stool over and sitting in front of your legs, pulling your feet into his lap and getting to work with the antiseptic.

“ouch!” you winced as the stinging made its way through your body.

“I know babygirl, m’sorry. i’ll just be a little minute more and then you’re done, m’kay?”

That was another thing that was unusual with Joel, his affection towards you. It was clear that he cared about your feelings, maybe it was just because he knew that you didn’t get much at home… or maybe… just maybe…

“All done, sweet girl” you were pulled from your thoughts as he placed the bloodied cotton pads onto the counter beside you and you winced internally at how much blood there actually was. He picked up a thin bandage and began to wrap each of your feet. making sure the cuts were covered.

“Thank you” you spoke quietly, even when he was finished he still held your feet in his lap, the warmness and softness of his jeans bringing you comfort. It made you yawn and made your limbs stretch slightly.

“You tired?” he asked. You shook your head, you knew he’d have you sleep here if you asked but you didn’t want an excuse to stay any longer, on the off chance that Rick was already on his way home.

“I better get going” Joel’s hands held onto your hips as you slid down off the counter, your feet feeling way better touching the floor than before.

“She ain’t leavin’” Tommy’s voice interrupted the both of you, you turned to face the younger brother who was standing in the door way, essentially blocking your exit.

“I-I have to”

“No frickin’ way!” Tommy protested, raising his voice a bit.

“Tommy” Joel warned.

“No, absolutely not! You think we’re gonna let you go back there after everything that sick son of a bitch has done? You’re fuckin’ crazy”

“You don’t understand” You spoke softly, a whimper caught in the back of your throat.

“No you don’t understand! You wanna fuckin’ die huh? You got some sorta death wish?” Tommy was stepping closer to you, not with the intention of intimidating you but out of pure frustration with you.

“Tommy! Back the fuck off” Joel stepped forward now too, both brothers exchanging looks that told you this had been more than a one time conversation. You couldn’t help the tears that burned your eyes, begging to be released, your lip wobbling with every breath.

Tommy was an incredible friend to you, but he was the harsher one out of the two brothers when it came down to you. Joel was better at hiding his true feelings but Tommy, wouldn’t let you hear the end of it.

“What if one day we ain’t there huh? what’s she gonna do? who’s she gonna run to? If she ain’t already dead by that point” his words were harsh and brought all your emotions to light.

“Stop it! please!” you burst into tears, chest tightening as your sobs began to wrack your body.

Joel was immediately at your side pulling you into his embrace tightly and running his hand through your hair, whispering sweet words.

“M’sorry, honey. But you ain’t leaving tonight and that’s final” Tommy spoke before disappearing into the hallway.

“He ain’t tryna be mean sweetheart” Joel whispered as you clung to him.

“I-I know” you spoke hiccuping through your words.

“He’s just worried about you, and so am I”

You pulled away from Joel’s embrace, wiping your eyes. Of course you knew it was wrong, Of course you knew you could get seriously hurt or end up dead. But if it was that straightforward you would’ve been gone a long time ago.

“Can you at least stay until i get some painkillers in ya’?” Joel asked, and it wasn’t a big ask at all… but to you it felt like a hefty question. But it wouldn’t hurt right? You could take the painkillers then head straight back home as if nothing happened.

You nodded and Joel gave a soft smile, and took your hand, leading you through the house and up the stairs.

“I keep everythin’ in my bathroom cabinet, jus’ better that way” he seemingly answered every question you had without you even having to ask.

He led you to sit on his bed as he went into the bathroom, rummaging for a few moments before returning with little white capsules in his hand, he reached into his night stand and grabbed an unopened bottle of water, twisting the cap and handing you both items.

He watched you carefully as you took the pills, swallowing them with water and taking a few more chugs of the water as you didn’t realise how thirsty you were. You handed the bottle back to him and he placed it back on his nightstand.

His room was so cozy, you had never been up here before. Shades of grey and black accented the room, lights dim and sheets soft, his bed big enough for 4 people never mind just him. You could tell this room probably wasn’t his idea as Joel wasn’t one to prioritise his own comfort. It was so cozy that your eyes began to droop, and your head began to sway.

“Lay down, babygirl” Joel instructed and even came to your side to aid you but you pushed him off.

“Nuh-uh I can’t, have to go home”

“Just lay down for 5 minutes, c’mon i don’t want you passing out” he insisted.

“M’kay, 5 minutes” He helped you lay down as you got comfortable on his plushy sheets, it was almost unusual how sleepy you were. You felt your eyes begin to shut against your will and felt your breathing begin to slow. You were falling asleep, but no matter what you did you couldn’t stop it from overcoming you. Your body drifting into a deep slumber before Joel’s eyes.

If only you’d of seen the bottle of sleeping pills sat out on his bathroom counter.

-

When you woke, it was way darker outside, an ambient light flashing through, you squinted for a minute until you realised it was police lights. You searched your surroundings realising you were wearing a t-shirt and bottoms that did not belong to you, and you were also laying on joel’s pillows, the covers atop of you. You threw the covers off and began to stand up, your sleepiness still coursing through your body. how long did i sleep?

You padded towards the window, looking out and gasping at the sight of Rick being pushed into the back of a police car, his protests actively ignored by the officers, you began to start panicking but something caught your eye, or someone.

Tommy stood on the front porch, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he watched the car drive down the street, the officer driving giving him a wave as they passed… they know each other?

“You’re awake” your body jolted as you spun round to face Joel, who stood in the middle of the room holding a mug of what looked and smelled like tea. He motioned for you to take the mug but you ignored him, eyeing him with a look of betrayal.

“I know you didn’t want this sweet girl but i-”

“Didn’t want this? Joel do you have any fucking idea what you’ve just done? He’s gonna get out and he’s gonna come straight for me, do you understand that?” you ran your hands through your hair, pacing back and forth and contemplating all of your options.

“Hey, hey, hey” Joel sat the mug down and walked over grabbing a hold of your shoulders and pulling you to him. “He ain’t gonna hurt you no more, understand”

You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pure sureness in his eyes.

“He comes anywhere near ya i’ll kill m’ myself”… again, the sureness… but something else lurked in his irises, something dark.

“You’re not killing anyone Joel” you pulled out of his grip and began to walk away, searching for your lost clothes, rummaging through his wardrobe and under his bed.

“Where’s all my stuff?”

Joel sighed and walked over to you again.

“It’s in the laundry, why are you so desperate to leave? He’s not here anymore” You heard the frustration in his voice but why was he angry at you, it meant you could go home peacefully.

“Because it’s my home, Joel”

“This is your home” He said plainly, which in any other circumstance would’ve been sweet but you couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong.

“That’s kind Joel but I really gotta-”

“You think now that i’ve got you i’m just gonna let you go?” He chuckled.

The air shifted as you looked into Joel’s eyes that seemed to have nothing but pure lust for you, he had been drinking.

But it wasn’t until your eyes caught the little orange pill bottle sat open on the counter that it finally clicked. And he noticed when it clicked. His eyes followed yours and he sighed at his mistake, before giving a slight scoff.

“Sorry, probably shoulda’ put that away before”

“Joel?” You grew more and more frightened as the seconds grew by, this wasn’t your Joel. This Joel had something dark and malicious about him.

“Hey, it’s alright sweetheart” he came up and held your face in his hands…

“I’m gonna take care of you now”

-

a/n: please let me know if you want a part two i’d be happy to write one! any comments and reblogs are so greatly appreciated thank you so much for reading.

love, mila🎀

[konigsblog]

https://x.com/sluttywh0r3/status/1716577080249323754?s=20

This could work for so many of your aus I can't choose who or what aus this belongs in.

rape/non-con warning, bondage, abuse of authority, kidnapping

kidnapper!horangi gives me these vibes :3 🎀🔪

you can't tell me that he wouldn't tie you to a table so he could fuck deep into you without you're constant squirming. sliding his lengthy, veiny dick into your slick pussy repetitively whilst you squirm and sob for him to stop! stop only means more, right? you're clearly enjoying this, so why fight it?

horangi loves that he's able to slam into you and groan out without the thrashing or the struggle beneath him. he chuckles at your weakness, thankful when you finally give up, as it was humilating you to try attempt to fight against him.

“아, 내 더러운 작은 것... 너 그거 좋아하는 거 알잖아, 아닌 척은 하지 말자, 응? 아냐아냐... 쉿, 네가 그 소중한 보지 안에 이 자지를 구석구석까지 집어넣고 싶어한다는 걸 알아.” *Ah, my dirty little thing... You know you like it, let's not pretend you don't, alright? No-no... Shhh, I know you want every inch of this cock inside that precious pussy.”

but you know what SCREAMS this? doctor!könig, doctor!ghost... 🩻🏥🔪

doctor!könig grew a fascination with you... and well, that soft, addictive body he got to see every time you visited him, using your vulnerability to his advantage. once he had you on the medical bed, he waited for the anesthesia to knock you out so he could ease his thick, girthy cock into your dripping pussy, rutting into you sloppily until you woke up.

gagged and silenced, you couldn't speak. you watched the way he drove his thick, huge dick into your pussy repetitively, grinding his cock into your slicken cunny while you wriggled and sobbed – cries muffled and your face tearstained as he continued fucking deep into your wetness, a shaking little mess unable to stop crying and hyperventilating at the rawness and ache between her soft thighs :(

“oh, ich weiß, ich weiß... du magst es nicht, wenn du benutzt wirst. du magst es nicht, dich verletzlich zu fühlen, ja? ich konnte nicht anders, ich konnte nicht anders, als direkt in deine enge muschi zu rutschen...” *Oh, I know, I know... you don't like being used. You don't like feeling vulnerable, yes? I couldn't help it...- I couldn't help it, but slide into your tight pussy.

unlike doctor!könig, doctor!ghost isn't gentle whatsoever. he doesn't even wait until you're asleep or under anesthetics, he's already wrestling you to the medical bed, tying you there while grinding his bulge again you. he adores sliding his thick and hard dick into you while you're sobbing and shaking, breathing out heavily as he continued plough into you, his hazel eyes behind the blue medical mask piercing into yours.

until you give up, knowing the power and authority he had over you. you're just one of many patients, you're nothing in comparison to him.

“quit fuckin' squirmin', girl... don't make me hit you. stay. still. c'mon, why are ya' actin' like i can't feel your pussy squeezin' 'round me like this, love?” he huffed out, gritting his teeth and slamming into you relentlessly, shaking his head, frustrated at your disobedience and nervousness.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

I Live For You

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: You and Jamie have a baby girl, Olivia, and she is the light of your lives. Every time she's feeling fussy or having trouble sleeping, Jamie sings her a song and it always works. Inspired by my imagine.

It's 2am when you hear Ollie's cries from the baby monitor. Jamie grunts as he sits up, "I got 'er," he mumbles, rolling out of bed in just his underwear. You immediately fall back asleep.

You're woken up again when you hear singing. You look at the baby monitor in confusion and see Jamie sitting in the rocking chair in the nursery, Olivia in his arms.

Please believe me, don't you see The things you mean to me? Oh, I love you, I love you I love, I love, I love Olivia

I live for you, I long for you, Olivia I've been idolizing the light in your eyes, Olivia I live for you, I long for you, Olivia Don't let me go Don't let me go

You sleepily smile to yourself. Olivia by One Direction was how you and Jamie decided to name your daughter.

Both of you grew up with the band's music, although Jamie would admit that to very few people. Nonetheless, you both loved to listen to their music together, dancing around your shared home, singing at the top of their lungs.

When Olivia came on during one of these times, Jamie said, "Ya know, I wouldn't mind callin' our future kid that."

"Really?" you looked at him in surprise.

He shrugged, "It's a cute name. Olivia Tartt. Ollie for short."

"Oh, she's taking your last name?" you asked with a smirk.

He smiled at you as he said, "Well, you're gonna be takin' me last name too, yeah?" he said as he decidedly pulled a ring out of his pocket and knelt onto the floor.

So yes, the song Olivia is a very important one in regards to your relationship with Jamie.

You continue to listen to Jamie softly sing Olivia to your daughter, his voice lulling you back to sleep.

_______________________

It seemed that that song never failed to put Olivia at ease. Hearing yours or Jamie's voice singing how much you love her ceased all her fussing and crying. Time and time again, you and Jamie found yourselves singing the song even more now, but in a more calmer, softer tone.

More often than not, it was Jamie singing the song to her. It happened so often and yet it never seized to make your heart swell with so much love for him and your daughter.

One night, you decide to secretly film Jamie and Ollie in the nursery. Jamie is in the rocking chair, feeding Ollie her bottle while he sings the song you're both all too familiar with now.

Say what you're feeling and say it now 'Cause I got the feeling you're walking out And time is irrelevant when I've not been seeing you The consequences are falling now There's something I'm having nightmares about And these are the reasons I'm crying out to be with you

Please believe me, don't you see The things you mean to me? Oh, I love you, I love you I love, I love, I love Olivia

He presses two kisses onto your daughter's head and continues to sing:

I live for you, I long for you, Olivia I've been idolizing the light in your eyes, Olivia I live for you, I long for you, Olivia Don't let me go Don't let me go

He nuzzles his face into her tiny neck and she gives a little giggle, which brings a smile to his face.

You stop recording and proceed to post the video on your socials with the caption: Ollie's lullaby sung by her dad.

Jamie has no idea you posted that until he put Olivia down for bed and checked his phone before joining you in bed too.

"Did you film that just now?"

You nod, "Yup. You two are so cute. I had to show off my loves," you peck his lips and he pouts, "What?" you ask with a giggle, swiping some of his walnut mist hair out of his face.

"Everyone's callin' me soft like."

You snort, "Lovey, you are soft and a wonderful dad. That's why I posted the video. To show people that side of you...ut if the video bothers you, I can delete it."

He shakes his head, "Nah. It's fine. It's gonna make me more likeable and shit with the fans, yeah?"

You snort, and shove at his shoulder, "There's that prickish behavior." You giggle and settle into his arms.

_____________________

One year. How did it go by so quickly? A year flown by since you've had your little Ollie. She's already so grown.

Sam insisted her first birthday be held at Ola's and there was no room for you to refuse.

Everyone there adored Ollie. Each Richmond team member coming in with big wrapped boxes of toys. Even before she was born, you knew that your children were going to be spoiled by their uncles.

Ollie had them all wrapped around her little fingers. But the one who was the most attached to her was Roy.

Jamie liked to joke that, by extension, that meant Roy was attached to Jamie. To which Roy responded, "As if I'm not around you enough."

But you knew that Roy was fond of Jamie. Like a big brother is with his younger siblings.

"Alright, babes," Keeley plucks Olivia out of Roy's arms, "There's a special performance that the boys put on for you." She carries your daughter where you and Jamie sit. The Greyhounds gather towards the area where they pushed all the chairs and tables back.

"We are gathered here today for Miss Olivia Tartt's first birthday," Sam announces.

"She's very special to us," Dani adds.

"So we decided to show her how special she is." Colin says.

Roy presses play on his phone and an all too familiar song booms from the bluetooth speakers and the Greyhounds sing:

Remember the day when we've given up When you told me I didn't give you enough And all of your friends were saying I'll be leaving you She's lying in bed with my t-shirt on Just thinking how I went about it wrong This isn't the stain of a red wine, I'm bleeding love

Please believe me, don't you see The things you mean to me? Oh, I love you, I love you I love, I love, I love Olivia

I live for you, I long for you, Olivia I've been idolizing the light in your eyes, Olivia I live for you, I long for you, Olivia Don't let me go Don't let me go

As the guys, (yes, including Roy), sing to Olivia she's moving in Keeley's arms, dancing and clapping her hands. She's smiling wide in amusement as some of the most important people in her life dedicate a performance to her.

During a music break, the guys move into a very adorable and well choreographed dance. You and Jamie are laughing in amazement.

Don't let me go Don't let me go Don't let me goooooo!

The song ends and everyone in the restaurant burst into applause.

You grab Ollie from Keeley and bring her to the boys, who all crowd around her, giving her hugs and kisses.

"Lads, that was incredible. Can't believe you even got grandad there to participate," Jamie nods to Roy.

"And that's the only time you'll be seeing me do that, you prick."

"Seriously, guys, it was great. Ollie loved it. Didn't you, baby?" you kissed your giggling daughter on the cheek.

"Love, should we do the cake now?" Jamie asks, coming up to your side, hand on your hip.

"Oh yes!" You hand Olivia to Jamie and rush to the kitchen to bring the cake out. It's Bluey themed to match the theme of the party.

Jamie holds Ollie in his lap as you set the cake in front of them, lighting the candles. In unison, everyone sings Happy Birthday to her. At the end, Jamie helps her blow the candles out and a cheers erupts, which has Ollie smiling.

It warms your heart to see her so loved by everyone there.

[cowboydisaster]

On Call

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 800

summary: Arthur picks up the phone mid-coitus

a/n: This is just a little drabble I wrote up. I've been writing a lot of romance lately and needed a change of pace lol.

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni (otp, rough sex)

Arthur's hands have an iron grip on your hips as he fucks you, drilling into you hard. 

"Y'like that, ya little whore?" He growls, and you arch your back from the bed, moaning loudly. Your nails scrape red trails onto his shoulders and back as you dig your heels into him, spurring him on. 

"Yes I like it, fuck- I love it." You mewl, breathy whimpers coming from your mouth.

His hips slap against yours loudly, his thumb tracing lightly over your clit as you shudder. 

"Fuck- don't stop, Arthur. Don't stop." You stutter, shaking and writhing underneath him as you approach a climax. 

Suddenly you hear a vibration, and you glance to his bedside table. It's buzzing against the hardwood table, lighting up as his ringtone plays out. Arthur's hips never relent as he reaches over, grabbing his phone and looking at the screen

"Be quiet. It's work." He orders, hips still slamming into you. Your eyebrows pull together, and you whimper. 

"What? You- you can't just-" You mewl, head falling back as he picks up his pace. 

"I said be quiet." Arthur growls, pressing the little green call button on his screen. You try your best to keep quiet as he rails you, but the task proves to be difficult. 

"Mr van der Linde, how are you?" Arthur asks, glaring at you to shut up as his cock rams into your sweet spot.

"Yes Mr. van der Linde, good to hear." Arthur says loudly, charismatic as he keeps himself in total control. You squint your eyes shut, bucking your hips to meet his as his cock drags in and out of you, bumping your g-spot with every hard thrust. 

"Yes, the wife is doin' very well, thanks for asking." Arthur smirks down at you, thrusting extra hard. You clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. 

"Oh she's takin' it real good- all the change with the new job, I mean." Arthur smirks at you again, watching as your breasts bounce with each of his thrusts and your eyes roll back in your head. 

He adjusts the phone between his ear and shoulder to free up his other hand, and he rubs his finger over your clit in time with his thrusts. You breathe heavily under your hand, struggling to hold your cries back. 

"Arthur-" You mewl, not loud enough for Arthur's boss to hear, but for extra safety, he clasps his own hand over your mouth, pushing yours out of the way. 

"Yes sir, I'll be sure to do so when I'm in the office next." He says, breath coming hotly from his nose.

Arthur's hips are tantalizing, putting you in a  delirious state as you whimper and moan under his hands. He knows you're close. 

"Yes, thank you Mr. van der Linde." He says, almost wrapping up. You can barely keep quiet anymore, a full mess under his hand as your orgasm approaches. 

"Okay, yes, perfect. Thanks again, I'll see you shortly." Arthur says, humming and nodding before he hangs up the phone and tosses it somewhere on the bed. 

The moan that you immediately release when his hand comes up from your mouth is ear piercing.

"Real good job. You can be loud for me now, let me hear it." Arthur says, and you do exactly that. 

Your orgasm tears through you, sending waves of pleasure and shock over your body that have you bucking your hips, moaning, and gripping him with all the strength in your body.

"Arthur-!" You cry out, eyes rolling back as you arch off the bed. You curse, grinding against him as he keeps pace, fucking into you relentlessly. 

"Yeah, good girl. That's it, take it." Arthur growls, groaning as a tightness grows in his balls. 

You whimper with every breath, coming down just as Arthur slips out of you. He pumps himself a few times before groaning deeply and cumming all over your chest. 

"Shit, darlin." He groans, catching his breath for a moment before getting up from the bed to get you a towel.

"Your boss?!" You ask, panting as he comes forward to wipe you up. 

"Yes." Arthur says plainly, cleaning you up thoroughly. 

"What if he heard me?" You ask, suddenly horrified. 

"With the noises you make? Hell sweetheart, he'd promote me." 

Arthur chuckles, and you roll your eyes as he tosses the towel in the hamper before crawling back overtop of you. He kisses your forehead, pulling you into his arms for the rest of the morning, wondering if an opportunity will come up like this one again.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

[tfp-stubborn-spark-au]

Chapter 3: floating

Starscreams experience with death wasn't at all what he'd expected.

But then again, when did anything go the way he expected?

Alot of this is probably gonna be super ooc but I don't really mind. This is purely self indulgent.

He honestly didn't know what he expected, maybe to come face-to-face with primus while he judged him for all of his crimes.

He knew long ago, even though he never thought himself religious, that if there was an afterlife for bad mechs, he was going there.

Whether that be the pit, or something else.

But if this was the pit... he had to say, it wasn't so bad.

He floated in nothingness, he didn't know where he was or how he got there.

All he knew was that he was warm, comfortably warm, and that he was floating.

It felt as though he'd been in stasis, or even frozen.

He often heard that one of the signs of lethal hyperthermia warmth and giddiness.

In the black void, something broke through.

A voice, it wasn't soothing nor was in enraged... it also wasn't recognizable.

Took the plunge, didn't ya?

Ah. That explained it.

Yes, he supposed he did "take the plunge" but it wasn't like he had other options.

At least here, in this mystery realm he had no fears, no worries, no duties, no responsibilities, no punishments and a bazillion-and-one other things that made starscream even more giddy.

But one stood out the most, it nearly made him cry out in relief.

No more Megatron...

He was free... truly free.

If this was his "punishment" for all the things he did in his life, then he wouldn't complain.

Maybe primus decided to "throw him a bone" as the fleshlings said.

That was his first thought, until a voice boomed loud enough to snap him out of his bliss.

It started as a chuckle.

"Not yet, seeker... you aren't finished quite yet." The unfamiliar voice echoed in his chasis (or at least, whatever was in it's place) and he found his warm bliss giving way to cold agony.

He didn't know what was going on, but he could feel his plates shifting and moving and forming unnaturally. He felt something... something MOVING through his lines, and he instantly felt squeamish.

He began to feel sensation in his servos again. He looked down and instead of nothing, he saw his servos again.

Then right pede

No...

Then his left one

This can't be happening...

The cold traveled up to his pelvic assembly and traveled up his chasis.

This isn't supposed to be possible!

The darkness gave way to light, and he could see the glow of his red optics...

He was coming back, but how?!

That wasn't what concerned starscream at the moment.

My peace!

My silence!

He cried out desperately, reaching out as if trying to grasp the conceptions themselves and surround himself with it.

My happiness...

_________________________________________

His optics shot open and he launched himself into a sitting position. He looked around the dark doom, alarmed.

The place was unfamiliar, but he could make out power tools and medical supplies... but this didn't look like knockouts office...

Which meant one of 2 things.

There was a rogue, or the autobots took him back.

Neither of the two possibilities sat right with the winged 'con.

His still weak spark thrummed in his chasis again as panic set in, he had to get out.

He had to go he had to go he had to go!

Every alarm bell in his cpu sounded off and his optics darted around once more.

He spotted a door, it was risky and was most likely armed with an alarm system.

And he would most likely still be...

He looked down at his servos, then his wings.

...not...cuffed?

Why'd they take the cuffs off him?

For the first time in what seemed like forever His spark lept in his chasis, he could fly again!

But he couldn't celebrate just yet, he still needed to get to relative safety.

He backed away from the door and braced his shoulder... until it gave immediately with no resistance.

It wasn't even locked?! What were they thinking?!

They'd left the second most dangerous 'con completely unrestrained and unsupervised...

They're basically asking to get offlined!

He nearly got weak with glee, until a thought quickly passed that deflated the seeker immediately.

Correction... former second most dangerous 'con...

He tried to navigate his way through the dull base until he finally felt a draft.

Opening the silo door, he looked up at the jet-black night sky.

How long has it been?

"Hey!" A voice snapped him out.

"Who are you!" The voice demanded.

He whipped around to face a larger, green mech...

Who, despite his size advantage (and undoubtedly, strength advantage) widened his optics.

"Uhh... uhhh." The mech whimpered, unable to form words.

"Gh-ghost!" He screamed out.

"Ohh slag." Starscream said.

Nothing good could come from this.

"Ghost! There's a ghost!" The mech turned back to the base and ran screaming.

Time to go!

He quickly transformed to his alt mode and took off, leaving the traumatized mech and the dull dusty base behind.

He took a few moments to appreciate the wind rushing past his frame, yeah, floating in space didn't come close to this feeling!

After admiring his new freedom, he began to run through a list of possible hideouts.

He could just pick a random cave, but he'd never been one for tight spaces... besides, he'd get his fair share of caving while mining for energon.

Energon...

This time, he deflated so much that it was a miracle he didn't crash.

He needed to keep a steady supply of energon, and while earth had energon deposits, the decepticons had bled most of the veins dry.

One problem at a time, now...

Right, he had to find a relatively safe hiding place. Although he hated the idea of hiding he had to regroup and come of with a game plan.

He decided the harbinger would be a good starting point. It was wrecked to the pit and back but it'd have to do.

He searched for the damaged ships dying signal, silently hoping something would come up.

He flew and flew, over the dense forest that consumed the vessel when it first collapsed until he finally got a faint ping.

Letting some tension go, he circled above before landing roughly in front of the ship.

The damage was now amplified by the overgrowth of the surrounding foliage, an issue he could afford to leave alone for now. He tore the jammed door down and made his way inside, searching for anything useful.

The navigation computers were damaged beyond repair, FUBAR (Fragged Up Beyond All Recognition) as they'd put it back on Vos.

Even with all his know-how it was still a lost cause, at least one of the monitors worked.

He got it working and checked so search for an inventory list.

Clicking into it, a status called "energon reserves" caught his eye.

He checked the status, rubbed at his optics, then checked again.

[Energon reserves; nominal]

He dashed away from the computer toward the storage room.

When the door didn't open, he began clawing and yanking at it like a wild animal until it gave out.

He stared with wide-optics at the stash of energon before him, like a sparkling who'd been given as many treats as they could want.

He fell to his knees as all the tension left his frame, there was enough energon cubes to last... well he'd figure that out later.

He crawled over to the stash and grabbed a cube with shaky servos.

He cracked the top open and guzzled it down, nearly coughing it up as it went down to his tank too fast.

He threw the cube to the side once he was done, leaning his back again the rest of the cubes.

One big problem taken care of.

He began any repairs he could manage with what had, and even managed to salvage enough components to make a (albeit relatively weak) signal jammer.

The next week, he began organizing all the spare parts... then tore off all the overgrowth to create a makeshift birth...

But it wasn't enough.

The space he had was fine. It was what to do that haunted him.

There were no missions, no leads and no action... he'd been at war so long he'd forgotten what peace felt like.

That's when he got into his own processor.

He'd never been one to feel guilt, regret or shame... but he really did think he was going to die back there... slaggit, he hoped he'd died back there...

A human month had passed and he was already a mess, he hadn't even been able to so much as look at his own reflection.

And once his defenses came down, everything else he'd tried to bury had wormed its way back to his helm.

Vos, sky fire, every single punishment he'd taken, every betrayal he'd perpetrated AND endured... and now, his latest kill...

Cliffjumper.

He'd never be able to erase the abject fear in the autobots eyes as starscream brought his claws up to his spark chamber.

He remembered the whole scene clear as sun. Even if he didn't want to anymore.

He finally lost it, he needed something, anything to keep his processor occupied... he even resorted to using human internet!

Starscream himself would say it was no problem, but it was actually quite tricky to get his monitors signal sent out and received by earth's satellites, but he got it done.

And so he browsed, looking for anything interesting to take his mind off.

By the end of the day, he'd watched dozens of video clips, read hundreds of research papers and even made an entire presentation about what the humans called "the rock cycle."

None of it did anything except remind him of a better time, a time where he wasn't all alone...

A time where he was happy.

Science was out of the picture.

He clicked out of the tabs and, for the first time in millenia, swallowed his pride.

He went to the search bar, and straight up asked for help.

He was sent to several "mental health" forums and starscream always groaned at the same advice he'd heard his medical peers give ill patients.

"Take your mind off of everything, go to your happy place, do something you love, blah blah blah!" Starscream hissed in frustration.

Until he saw another answer from an independent user.

"|This advice isn't very conventional, but I'd start looking at exercise or combat sports if nothing else is helping. Was in a bad slump years ago that almost cost me my life, but I eventually found combat sports to be something i could really lose myself in|"

"Combat sports... lose yourself in...?" He sounded then out, almost as if they were completely foreign.

He did some digging, first by searching up what combat sports were and was greeted with a pleasant surprise.

"A sanctioned, legal fight?" He tapped his chin.

"...like gladiators?"

He clicked into a random video.

The two combatants were wearing gloves and assumed very sturdy postures with one foot always in front of the other.

And then, before starscream could begin analyzing, the action started.

Over the course of the 30-minute fight, the two had beaten each other bloody and not a single one of them went down or slowed down.

Starscream watched the judges decide the fight but wasn't at all interested in hearing the score, he was still playing back the action in his cpu.

Even just watching it got his energon pumping!

He started watching more and more, even studying the different sports.

Alright, so boxing focuses on rhythm, flow, defense, footwork and punches...

He wrote it down

Wrestling is all about keeping an opponent pinned to the ground.

Muay Thai was chaotic and explosive, using all limbs to deal as much damage as possible while also utilizing a tight defense to absorb damage.

Jiu-jitsu Is submissions and joint locks.

Kickboxing was basically boxing with kicks

And there were so many more, but he surmised that those ones were the most efficient.

He moved on from fights to watching how the techniques were performed, and found himself surprised at the amount of intelligence it took to execute all these different movements at once...

And he liked it... he liked watching and he liked learning, it kept him interested and engaged!

He saw how the most common training method was to hit a large stuffed bag.

He quickly sprang up to search for any kind of linen until he found something big enough, and stuffed it with whatever he could find.

Finally, he found a large enough tree and bolted it into place off a sturdy branch that let it swing around.

Starscream got to work just as he saw the humans do, although maybe he should've found something softer to stuff it with...

But the pain with each strike didn't bother starscream, he was having so much fun!

Until a loud crack brought him out of his trance.

He hissed at pain exploding through his left servo and inspected it, finding it deformed.

"Slag! Just what I needed!" He growled as he walked back to the harbinger, hoping to find what he needed to repair his servo.

But as he stepped in, he felt it again. Something moving through his lines.

He shivered and scratched at himself before looking at both of his servos as they began to feel lighter than they ever did.

Whatever it was that's moving through his body, it went straight to his left servo.

Then it began to move, on its own.

He fell backwards with a yelp and grasped at his servo as pain twisted through it while it writhed inexplicably.

He groaned and tried to steady it but It Just continued to twist and turn, the plating contorting in ways not possible, until...

It was...good as new...

He stared in shock at his servo, now completely unblemished, like he'd Just gotten them polished.

"What the slag is happening to me..." he whispered to himself.

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

Longer chapter this time, folks. Had alot I wanted to get out of the way until the story can get started properly

[kendalzu]

sunhill hardcore sex oh yes oh yes

—

when Boothill came into Sunday’s office for a talk, he never thought it would end up with Boothill fucking his life away. it felt so good, but so wrong at the same time.

it was a sin, the sin to have intercourse with the same gender, but Sunday didn’t want to think of that right now, or atleast he couldn’t. Boothill was fucking him so well that he just couldn’t help but cry of pleasure and sadness.

his goddess, Xipe, what would she think about his wrongful deeds, what would she think of his wretched deeds! he had a choice, and he went through it with it.

Boothill’s metal cock made Sunday stray away from the thought of sin, and oh was he enjoying the sight. he pounded him harder within every second, he counted each time he came, eight times already.

and Boothill wasn’t even finished with mr. feather boy here. he had more plans for him. Boothill slowly caressed his neck, as a way of saying ‘sorry’ for what he was about to do to him.

he bit down harshly on his neck, Sunday screaming in pain and pleasure from the friction on his neck, clawing the metal back of Boothill.

“you wretched— hhahh..” sunday tried to speak, but ultimately failed in the process. everytime he tried to talk Boothill would just go deeper. just fucking him until the only thing left on his mind, was him.

“faster..” sunday whispered in the man’s ear, he was so close again, he wanted to feel it, he couldn’t get enough.

“what was that? say it again.” Boothill warned, slowing his pace. sunday groaned from the loss of pleasure, and practically screamed at him.

“you’re so damn rude! go faster you cyborg bitch.” he hissed, and then realized he made a mistake, talking to the man that he could never win to.

a slap to the face is what he earned. a hard one at that. “you don’t talk to me like that now, i’m the one who’s fuckin you so good here, makin you moan like a whore.” he practically had a silent yell to his voice, he was pissed. “if you wanna cum, make yourself do it. cuz i ain’t.”

“nononono.. no please i’m sorry! i’m sorry. please just fuck me, make me feel good pleasepleaseplease!!” Sunday whined and cried on Boothill’s shoulder, begging him to continue, begging him to put him in his place.

“nuh uh, maybe after being good for me then i might just get started with you again. but you were so mean~ so do it yourself.” he was mocking sunday with the tiny little school girl voice. seeing Sunday cry in his shoulders made him feel things, things he hasn’t felt since he was human.

Sunday grabbed his arm and started fucking himself on Boothill’s dick, all of his energy wasted from him using his home like a sex toy. he collapsed on his metal body just seconds in.

“tsk, tsk, tsk—“ Boothill said slowly “can’t even fuck yourself now, ya too tired?” he laughed while plunging into him once more, accepting that he had to do all the work.

“next time you’ll be the one fucking yourself in-front of me, ya hear?” Boothill hissed in his ear.

[gooppoo]

hi this is BRAINROT. in case you confuse it with a request, is pure concept dump and i wanted to share it with you.

imagine subby jake with reader and he is SO sensitive. like he just starts whining and being so NEEDY, like he is BEGGING for us to fuck him

- 💮 anon

fucking love.

I don't think you understand.

Requests Closed!!

mdni.

warnings: subby!Jake :) he's just being a little baby omg, you're kinda being a top ;), teasing, p in v, creampie

More and more he reminded you of a toddler.

All morning he followed you around, his hands grabbing at your body to pull you close to him. The afternoon was much of the same, this time he managed to get close enough to start whispering unspeakable things into your ear. Finally, he spent the evening practically on his knees.

Now, he had himself pressed against your backside as you prepared some items for tomorrows daily tasks. He was unmistakeable hard, and from the way it was twitching and the damp spot on his loincloth caressing your skin, you knew it was painful. On you shoulder, he rested his cheek, pleading with his life. His palms kneaded at your waist and even reached for your wrists at times.

"God baby, what else do I need to say? Please, just give me five minutes. I just want you to touch me for five minutes." There was a peculiar hiccup to his tone. Was that a tear trickling onto your shoulder?

When he sniffled, your heart dropped, "Fuck, I'm a goddamn mess. Please hon, jus'...ngh-" you had shifted against him and that was enough friction for him to tense "-c'mon, I'm already so close, jus' want you on my lap." He finished off with a few pathetic sobs.

Truthfully, you didn't think he'd take it this far. Jake normally had much more composure and dignity. Perhaps this was a side of him that was deeply buried. The part that was pawing at your arms and crying on your shoulder to make him cum.

"I-I've been behaved, ya know? Not pickin' fights, doing my duties, treating you good." You rolled your eyes, how could he get anymore pitiful? "Havent I been good? Baby, please, please fucking please!"

Now he was just plain crying. He had himself pressed against you so tightly that any minuscule movement made by your body had him yelping. At first, there was a particular kind of guilt that rung in your chest. You wouldn't like to be denied like this, for this long. But seeing him get so worked up that he was practically rutting against your back was downright annoying.

"Alright!" You huffed, "Enough, get a grip." Gently, you wriggled from his desperate grapple, and had him seated on the ground.

"Yes! Oh god thank you." His eyes already rolling back into his head at the thought.

You clicked your tongue, "I said pull yourself together." Your eyes shifted down to his loincloth, and you began to shimmy it out of the way, "Look at this Jake," you scolded.

He clenched his jaw, his brows dipping in an embarrassed manner, "I know babe, it's bad. I can't help it, you're too fuckin' hot and I turn into a goddamn animal."

At least he was self aware. The least you could offer him was what he wanted. For a moment, you genuinely worried about hurting him, denying him this long.

With a loving hand on his thigh, you indulged, "What do you want?"

"You!" he whined, "Anything, fuckin' anything."

"Be specific Jake."

Considering your words carefully, he chewed his lip, then babbled out, "Please ride me baby."

A faint grin painted your lips, "Sure Jake."

Staring off, you let your hands explore his twitching thighs, purposefully dancing around his impressive length. Every time you neared the area he cried for you to give attention, he'd rut into the air, and sigh out a few more pleads. Each beg and whimper of your name helped your own ache accumulate beneath your naval. Knowing he was yours to tease and tamper with had your mind fogged over with an incredible ego. You knew the way to hear him weep again was to sink yourself onto him.

So, you shifted onto his reliable lap, flicking away his excited hands. With two fingers, you woke up your center, spending a few moments at your clit and smearing your slick onto both of you. When your hand haphazardly pumped against Jake to lubricate him, his back collapsed against the ground, garbling out jumbled nothings.

"I hope you're ready." You warned him, hoping to penetrate his daze as you penetrated yourself with him.

He didn't reply with confirmation, only groaned lowly and richly as you enveloped him. With each inch that entered, you felt the way his blood pumped angrily and thought of how much self control he struggled for in that moment. He had been stiff for hours, too many hours, so how he wasn't finishing in you that moment was commendable.

You had to applaud him when your hips were flush, "Wow...so so good. Mm! Want me to move, my good boy?"

A sudden gasp for life snapped his eyes open at you. Had you struck or strummed a chord within him? His expression was almost readable.

Tentatively, his hands settled on your hips, the tiniest curve upward of hips lips teasing the idea of a smile, "Please."

You leaned down slowly, holding his enamored stare as you approached his expression, "Of course baby." You purred, taking his lips onto yours.

After gingerly pulling away, you used your strength to lift off his groin and slide back down again. Still, he wasn't finishing, but his nails digging into your sides said otherwise. You wondered if your slower pace was more agonizing than a steady rhythm. Either way, Jake would still be fighting to spit up fragments of sentences through his numbed mind. Most of what he coughed up was choked up moans that offered you motivation to keep at what was doing just the trick for both of you.

You knew both your hearts were working overtime. Blood rushed rapidly through your body, and Jake's blood was pumping furiously in you. Sometimes it was hard to decipher his nearing orgasm twitches, or how sensitive he had made himself.

Each time your pelvis met his again, he would mewl or sigh. These sounds weren't entirely foreign to you, but the frequencies of them was. It was like clock work he would sputter out a pleased confirmation, all of them making you hotter and hotter.

"Love hearing you like this Jake." You grit, finding the might to pick up your pace, and his moans became more jumbled.

"Ohhh, feels fuckin' amazing." Jake groans, barely coherent. Amazing was right.

To add a special spice, you rolled your hips in varying directions and watched as his composure completely crumbled into a fine dust. This seemed to trigger more tears from Jake.

"Is everything okay?" You let your hips slow and you wiped away his tears,

He was pathetically gasping for air, "C-can I cum? So good." Some more tears spilled over.

You had been in this position before. Tears rolling down your cheeks because Jake had fucked you like an expert. Sometimes, it is so good all you can do is tear up.

"'Course baby."

With a reassuring kiss placed on his sad, puffy lips, you returned to rhythmically maneuvering your hips. Though it would normally haunt you to see Jake in tears, you found his tears here and now to be so sexy.

A few more salty droplets were squeezed from his tightly closed eyes as he cried out. "Thank you, thank you..." he chanted mindlessly. A few pathetic thrusts of his hips meant his cum would soon be dripping out of both of you.

It was like Jake had crossed the finish line when he released. All day he had worked toward this moment, and now that it was here he was absolutely euphoric. He let his body do what felt best so he could milk every sensation you pulled from him. The amount of cum spurting into you was almost alarming, especially when Jake starting writhing beneath you and dragging his deeply embedded nails down your sides.

"Fu-u-uck!" Jake sobbed, his chest hiccuping with each syllable.

But you continued. Why would you stop now? Though all the signs pointed to him maybe being in pain, you knew this was the only way to heal him.

He was right. He had been behaving. Even when he was sobbing for you, he treated you right.

[anonbinaryweirdo]

"try not to cry when im gone" hu tao x reader

(angst, hurt/comfort? she still dies tho lol), reader having bad thoughts, sloppy transition, hu tao comforts reader, reader cries, one or two mentions of zhongli

gn reader, unspecified pronouns or descriptions for reader. writer cried

imagine an immortal reader, who knows of their fate with Hu Tao, but has yet to accept it with a full mind

or at all, really.

you sit there, teacup heavy in your hand as you stare at the fire ahead. once again were you reminded of your immortality, but your mind could only immediately drift off to your lover, who was the opposite.

a human. a mortal.

she was bound to die, and you would have to live on, without her, one day. it was inevitable. you wouldn't even know when you'd see her new face again, decades—maybe even centuries later. you probably wouldn't even get the chance to meet her in her new life.

you sigh, just thinking about it. setting down your cup and running a hand down your face, you hold your breath. maybe this was a dream. you'd wake up one day, with identical grey hairs, wrinkles all over. maybe you could be buried next to one another.

alas, you were so lost in thought, you didn't even notice the extra presence in the room, until you felt a pair of hands covering your eyes, the metal of the rings she adorned just barely grazing your skin—yet, you could still feel how cool it was.

"guess who~!" came a giggle from behind. you could never get enough of hearing it, a smile making its way onto your face almost immediately as it rang through your ears.

you couldn't help laughing a little, rolling your eyes behind her palms. "welcome home, Hu Tao," you greet, as normal. it was genuine, the way you felt around her. especially whenever you got to welcome her back under the roof you shared. a place you both cared for, and could call your home. although, you were quite certain that home was only really found whenever you were with Hu Tao. without her to live there with you, it'd merely be a house. not a home.

Hu Tao skips over in front of where you sat, a small grin on her face. you could tell she was a bit tired, though. yet, her lips were still quirked up, despite the fact. you loved it. "were ya missing me already, butterfly?" she asked, looking over you. "because, i must say, you looked mighty bored and lonely before I snuck up on you."

and, as though it were an automated response, you respond quickly, "I'm always bored and lonely whenever you're gone." and it was true, as 'sappy' as it sounded. you needed someone like Hu Tao in your everyday life to lift you up, even when you weren't particularly feeling 'blue'.

"well," the director hummed, helping herself to straddling over your lap, wrapping her arms around you as she rested her chin on your shoulder. your hand moves to take off her hat, setting it aside before moving your fingers through her hair. she closed her eyes, melting—ironically enough—into your touches. "I can't blame you," she continued, chuckling a little, "I mean, without me, you'd be miserable. oh, what would you do without me?" you knew it was a joke, but still.

it was true.

your hand paused in her hair, and your expression slowly fell to what it was before she walked through that door. can you imagine, having to life without her? having to live, what you could only hope wasn't for the rest of your life—from the time your eyes flutter open at the crack of dawn, and when they close into peace once more when moonlight illuminates the land—without her?

you couldn't even begin to imagine what life would be like, if you hadn't seen her smile everyday. true, yes, her smile wouldn't be there every second of the day... no, she had her days when she felt so little about herself, and that smile turned upside down into something else. there were even times her eyeliner would smudge down her face in streaks. but, she still managed to smile. seeing her face was enough.

unfortunately, for you, the girl happened to take notice of your silence, and looked back at you with big red eyes, mixing with both curiosity and concern—even as she tried to play it off. "hey, now, " she laughed lightly. "why the long face? you look like a little puppy, hehe. am I boring you, or something? I don't think I've ever seen you so—"

her voice died down as she saw the way your eyebrows scrunched up, her eyes looking over your face. she saw how sad your eyes look—and how they weren't as bright as she loved them. the way you stared down at your lap, biting the inside your lip. you were deep in your thoughts, and they didn't seem to be happy ones. she didn't like that.

"...hey," she spoke quietly. she cupped your face, making you look at her. and, instantly, you were lost in those eyes.

who wouldn't get lost in them, honestly? they were so pretty, so very magnificent in so many ways you couldn't even begin to explain. and those stars...those stars were the cherry on top. they shined so bright, brighter than any real star could ever. but...eventually, even stars come to their ends, right?

"butterfly...whats the matter? why do you seem so blue?"

she was so sweet. you couldn't help it,arms caging around her in a desperate hug. you were certain, that, letting go would result in her not being there anymore. like she'd turn into particles, and fly out the window. you didn't want that. you couldn't have it.

"[name], what—" "im not ready for you to die."

the words flew past your lips before you could stop them. you squeezed your eyes shut as you nuzzled your nose further into her hair. you inhale deeply, the breath coming out in a shaky sigh. as much as you felt like wanting to, you couldn't cry. especially not here, in front of her, right now. you wouldn't dare let her see you so weak. so—

"is that what this was about?" Hu Tao inquired suddenly, making you hold your breath. your answer—the silence and a tremble of your shoulder—was enough said.

her arms wrapped around you, and it was enough for you to breathe. "don't cry," she hushes you, tenderly rubbing her palm up and down your back. "I don't want you to be sad when I'm dead. in fact, I want you to be happy."

your eyebrows furrow, and you lift your head, looking up at her. "what?" you question, not believing what she just said. "how can you...how can you even say that with a straight face? if I lose you, t-then—"

"then you'll be okay," she cuts you off, kissing your forehead. she leaned back. and smiled. "you'll be fine when I'm gone, because I know you'll be at peace with knowing that I'm resting well, knowing that it was I that you created memories with, and not anyone else in either of our places."

you sat there, listening to her voice. it always was so lovely, wasn't it?

"I'm going to be watching over you as a ghost," she promised, "and once you feel that familiar air, you'll know it's me."

"you should also be at peace, knowing that I'm resting well...because of you. you were the reason for my true happiness, and for that, I..." Hu Tao huffed, taking your hands in hers. "I should be the one crying over my death. I mean, I won't even get to interact with you—I'll be transparent! which is absolutely awful, I mean, can you imagine me going a day without your arms around moi? really."

she smiled as you managed a little laugh at her attempt to brighten the mood. "there it is!" she cheered, softly. "see? that's exactly how I want your face to look, during my final breath, and every moment after, okay?"

you sniffled, leaning into her palm as she strokes your cheek with her thumb, wiping away your tears. "no promises," you whisper, turning your head to kiss her palm. she groans, "well, at least try. what type of person would you be to not at least make an effort to live up to something?"

you shake your head, rolling your eyes. your hands find their way to her waist, and you lean up, capturing her lips. she returned your kiss, not backing away until you do. and that's not until you hear a small pattern of quiet thuds on the window, catching both of your attention.

"hm," she hummed, "it's raining pretty hard." Hu Tao chuckled, holding you close, "I'm glad I got home in time, or else I'd be drenched."

"yeah.." you agree.

you sigh, staring at the ground. "I'm the one getting drenched," you mutter under your breath. you could vividly recall that conversation. it was one of the good ones.

you feel a hand on your shoulder, but you don't turn to look. "I'm sorry," says the consultant of the wangsheng funeral parlor, sympathizing with you.

you don't answer immediately, but he can make out a quiet 'thank you' as he leaves to give you your space, allowing you to stare at the stone in peace.

you look up, closing your eyes as the rain falls down on your face. "I wonder if you can see me yet," you whisper.

a smile graces your lips, feeling a gust of wind push past you.

you chuckle dryly, tears getting mixed in with the rain. another gust of wind.

"..i tried, didn't I?"

and then another.

Oliver is a little bitch tell me why I cried

[justrainandcoffee]

Tell her (Alfie Solomons)

Masterlist

Summary: It's 1964 and Allie, Alfie's daughter, is in his house in Margate to accompany him. Sometimes Alfie is the same as ever and sometimes... "Tell her I miss her," he says. "Tell her it'd be nice to go to the beach together." 'Her' is Rose, his wife. She died the previous year but he forgot about it. For him, Rose is still alive but he can't see her. "Tell her..." He keeps saying and every time Allie's heart breaks a bit more. "I will, dad."

Warnings: Mentions of mental illness (dementia). Angst. Grief. Sadness.

Words: 1.5k

1964.

It's raining in Margate. Actually it's a storm, one of the biggest they could remember.

From the window Allie Solomons could see the fury of the sea. She's now 40 years old, has a daughter, a husband and still has her father. But his health started to deteriorate quickly after his wife's death. Even when her husband suggested to move him to a home, that was out of question for Allie. His father deserved to stay there, he loved that place. And it was full of memories.

The sound of the raindrops knocking the window is the only thing that can be heard among with the music of a Beatles' long-play.

Allie looks at the clock. It's time for his medication.

"Dad?" she asks while she's walking down the stairs. "Dad, I'm going to prepare tea so you can eat something and take your pills. You can rest afterwards."

But Alfie isn't in his armchair as usual. His pipe is on the table and his book is open on the floor.

"Dad?"

Allie's heart is beating fast. Maybe he went to the bathroom. But when she knocks the door there's no answer.

The maid that helps her isn't there because she went to the market so Allie is alone.

"Dad?" she calls again. "Dad!"

Allie sees that the front door is open and her father is out in the rain. He's soaking wet.

"Dad! What the hell are you doing there!" The woman grabs his hand and invites him to get in the house again. "It's raining like hell, you're going to catch the flu."

"Yeah, it's raining."

"Yes, I know. Come with me."

Obedient, he follows his daughter and accepts the help she offers. Allie gives him a dry shirt, towels and a blanket. She puts his chair next to the fireplace, too.

"I'm going to prepare tea, but please dad… don't go outside again."

"I went out just because of her. She's still out! Next to the sea."

"Who? Who's she?"

"What do ya mean who's she?" Alfie looks at his daughter confused. "Your mother, Allie. Rosie… out there in the rain, at the seashore. Tell her to come in, sweetheart."

Allie's thoughts stops at the same time her heart races faster than before.

"I was here, right?" Alfie says "and suddenly I saw her there. I thought she was sleeping but probably woke up and went outside. She always did crazy shit, but I love her. Will ya tell her that I need to talk to her?"

Allie wants to cry. It's been over a year since her mother died. The saddest day of her life and the moment when Alfie's world started to crushed down.

"Please, no" Allie begs in silence. Anything but dementia. He's the smartest man she ever knew, this couldn't be his destiny.

Instead, Allie tries to compose herself and just nods. "Probably she's coming. But I'll tell her, yes. Although first, you need your medication ok? I'll bring you tea with it.".

.

"If anything happens to me take care of your father" her mother's voice is in her head "I know Alfie's weakness. Promise me, Allie."

And she's keeping her promise since then. Allie cries in silence while the water is boiling.

"Did you tell her?"

"I did. But she said that she wanted to suprise you with something tonight, so she went to the town. Mama said that you need to rest so you can enjoy the dinner tonight."

"She's going to cook?"

Allie smiles "she'll try. Now take the medicine, dad. So you can rest and wait for her."

Once again, Alfie hears his daughter and after the tea, he goes to sleep. After his nap he's the same as ever and didn't mention his late wife again. Like it never happened.

This Saturday Alfie is alone with his maid. His daughter is at the theatre with her daughter and husband, Allie is planning to go to her father's house after it. The arguments between her husband and herself increased the last days because she spent a lot of time next to Alfie and she had to remember him what her father meant to her. "Never make me choose between him and you. I love you, but he's the man who saved me," she said and the husband understood.

The maid named Margaret knew about Alfie's probably dementia. So she wasn't surprised when he named Rose again, still, it hurt.

"Tell her I want to go to the sea with her. Where's she? Isn't she here?"

"Not now, Mr. Solomons. Your beloved wife told me she's attending a meeting, but I can help you to go to the beach if you want."

"Ah! A meeting! Me Rosie always working. If I go outside will ya tell her about it? Tell her I'm on the beach."

"Yes, Mr. Solomons."

Margaret smiled briefly. She knew his wife, she witnessed the relationship between them, the way they talked to each other, the smiles. And she saw Alfie Solomons becoming a shadow of the man he used to be after her death.

She helps him to walk to the seashore, she carries a beach chair with her and invites him to sit in it. Alfie sighs looking at the sea, he loves that place but lately he feels that he's missing something, but he doesn't know what.

"When Rosie calls, tell her that the day is beautiful 'ere."

"I will, Mr. Solomons."

Two weeks later, nothing changed. Some days he didn't mention his wife at all and he was calm and busy reading or watching tv. Other days he talked about her as she was still there. Allie called his doctor and the man confirmed her fears and unfortunately, there was no cure.

Alfie Solomons had erased from his memory her wife's death.

But a part of him was still the same as ever.

"She's not 'ere anymore, ain't she?" Alfie asks his daughter one afternoon months later. He was in the balcony looking at the horizon. Allie is next to him and the new dog he has, a basset hound named Apollo. Allie, caressing Apollo's long ears, thinks for a moment before answering to him.

"No, papa."

"And I keep asking for her… what's happenin' to me?"

"You'll be fine, dad. I'm here to help you. You and mom were, and still are, really important to me. I love you, dad. So, I don't care if you sometimes you forget things. I forget things all the time. It's okay." She hugs him really tight. "I think of her all the time, too."

For a moment, father and daughter share a moment in peace. Both of them laugh and play with Apollo. For a moment, Allie allows herself to be a girl again when she played with Ciryl and younger Alfie. Her strong father that always protected her no matter what. For a moment, Alfie's mind knows where it is and knows that he's a widower now. But it ends faster than both of them would've liked it.

"Allie..."

"Yes, dad?" The woman looks at him.

"I know your mum is busy, but if you see her tell her i miss her. Tell her, Allie. Tell her I love her, too."

Allie's eyes are filled with tears again but she nods. "I will, dad. I will."

The next day, Allie is standing in front of the mother's tomb. There are white roses decorating the gravestone, her favourites. Allie talks to her mother, she tells her that she misses her company, her words. She tells her about how Iris, Allie's daughter, is growing up really quick and how she loves painting. But, if she's there is to deliver a message.

"He loves you. But you know that. He loves you so much that his mind decided that you never died and who would be so cruel to tell him otherwise? In his own world you're alive, even if he can't see you. He misses you, mom."

Meanwhile, in Margate, Alfie Solomons is in the kitchen baking and the maid is helping him. It's 20th June and it's his wife's birthday. Alfie knows that and his Rosie deserves the best.

A beautiful cake is now ready to be eaten even if the person he waits the most isn't there to enjoy it.

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 26

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 4.1k

IMPORTANT a/n: Hi... I said that if the Celtics won I'd post tonight so ya know! Here it is hehe. LETS GO CELTICS

Finally used the scene in Season 1 episode 5 of Narcos of Javi and Murphy in the car. There's a lot of perspective change in this one, this section will be like this most the time just because are characters are so far apart!

Ok bye enjoy

New Orleans 1988

“Do you remember being sixteen?”

You cackle, playing with the golden bee at your lobe, looking up at your student Chiron. He had been eating his lunch in your classroom for about two months since, the cafeterias ac is shit, his words. You dig into the cake your students bought you, they thought you would cancel their monday practice quiz with a little birthday celebration. They were greatly mistaken. 

Today you're twenty-four. Everytime you think of it your brain freezes.

 You remember being sixteen like it’s yesterday. You nod, washing down the store bought dry red velvety mess with water. “Yes. It sucked.”

Chiron laughs just the same, opening the pink milk box on his tray. “When were you sixteen? In 1950?”

You stare at him with your most deadpan look, shaking your head. “I turned sixteen in 1980. I was living in Laredo, Texas and I spent my birthday alone. I received flowers from my… friend and my mom took me dress shopping two days later. What was yours like?” 

You and Chiron talk every day. You know he lives in a group home, you know he gets excited when he gets asked about his own life and even more excited when someone shares stories about theirs. He reminds you everyday that you want to have a son one day, you guess you’ll tell him when he's older. Hopefully then you could introduce your son to him and have a laugh about it. 

Teaching has given you a purpose. Being away from home has given you a purpose. Knowing no one has given you a purpose. You tell him stories all the time, you’re going to sob when he walks across that stage in May. 

“I went to the arcade with Teresa.” Teresa has been his girlfriend since the ninth grade, she went to St. Mary’s. They met doing community service and Chiron knows that they're going to be married. “She bought me this chain with her paycheck from Rouses. Are you doing anything for your birthday?”

You look at the picture of your little sister and niece sat up on her desk. Little three year old Sol holding Frankies babygirl Annie. “I still don’t know anyone out here but my coworkers so I’ll probably order in, watch Dirty Dancing and wait for a call from my brother.” You think of Javier for a moment, wondering if he knows today's your birthday. 

You wonder if you have crossed his mind. 

You saw him in the paper when you went home for christmas, you didn't visit your mother. 

You went home to simply spoil the babies at Frankie's house. You drove right back to your third floor apartment in Nola. Cried into your pillow until you slept and did it all over again for three more nights. Chiron nods, you have told him small stories about your life because he loves to listen. You’re weary of sharing too much, only offering bits you know will make him feel seen. You let him cry when he said he tried to meet his father during Christmas break and he didn’t show. That's when you decided to tell him about your first trip to New Orleans. 

Chiron frowns and sips his milk. He just got a haircut, flat top style, he had been growing his hair out the whole year for it. “Do you think Javier will call you?”

You smile at Chiron. He had been trying to pry information about your former lover for weeks. It all started after Christmas break when he cried about his father. You told him that family can be found anywhere, that your only family for a bit was your best friend who happened to be your boyfriend. 

“Do you live with Javier now?”

You shook your head, “He moved away for work.” Nearly a lie, you didn’t feel it was appropriate to tell your seventeen year old student the painful details of your life. 

Chiron went quiet for a few seconds, his face going inward. Eyes shy and sad, it happens every time he’s asked about his parents.

“So who is your family now?”

Andrea drops her keys on her kitchen counter being greeted by tiny tweets. She grins from ear to ear, placing her purse down on the couch. Walking to her cage, the two birds chirped.

 “Are you singing Happy Birthday to me?” She gets on her tiptoes, offering her fingers to the babies, they take the chance. “Thank you, mommy’s going to watch Dirty Dancing because she’s lonely. Okay?”

She brings Jewel to her face in a phantom kiss while Harvey finds sanctuary on her shoulder. 

She always wanted pets but her mother never allowed it. The second Andrea put down her deposit for her apartment, she hopped in her car and bought two blue budgies. They nipped and scurried away from her each time she approached them but after two months of persistence they finally warmed up to her. They’re now her best friends. She’s become a crazy bird lady. Just in September she left a date abruptly because she realized she hadn't fed them in a day and a half. Its safe to say she didn’t get a call back from Mr. Henning.

She sits on her couch after loading the VHS and yawning. Her birdies flying back to their cage. 

That was the summer of 1963 - when everybody called me Baby, and it didn't occur to me to mind.

At 6pm she receives a call. Her heart sinks and for a moment she thinks, maybe.

But ultimately she knows not to be so silly, she knows she needs to be angry with him but she doesn’t have it in her anymore. She unravels herself from the nest she’s made on her couch and tip toes on the hardwood floor to her home phone. 

She spoke to Genie this morning, receiving a happy birthday song from her brother and their baby’s incoherent babbles. They say little Annie is upset that Tia Andrea lives so far. 

“Hello?” Andrea shushes her birds, they love to chirp when she’s on the phone. 

“Happy Birthday Andrea,”

 And she knows Don Chuchos voice anywhere. 

Andrea closes her eyes at the sound. She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever and she’s riddled with grief at the sound of his voice after nearly two years. 

“Thank you Chucho.” Andrea remembers the way he looked at her when she sat in the blistering heat on Javier’s wedding day. He looked at her knowingly, he could see that beyond the made up face she was on the brink of a breakdown. “How’s everything back home?” 

“You would know if you stopped by to see me last month.”

She winces. When Andrea came home for Christmas she made it her business to be seen by no one. Especially anyone who knew anything about Javi. 

She was finally feeling better. 

Everything was out in the open now, everyone knew their business. The scandal blew through town, she had to leave.

“I know, I'm sorry. I’m just still working through everything that happened. I knew if I stopped by your house it would bring up old memories.” Since Andrea moved to New Orleans she has gone back to Laredo five times. Two of the times she visited her mother, every other time was a straight shot to Frankie’s home. Calling him to make sure he takes Sol for the day so Andrea could see her too. She would spend two lovely nights on their plush couch and drive home the next day. 

Through the crackle of the receiver Chucho hums in understanding. 

In a twisted way Andrea always wanted him to be her father. She loved the idea of marrying Javier for more reasons than one. She wanted to officially be a part of his tiny family she loved so deeply. 

“Would this be a bad time to talk about him?” 

Andrea, the despondent girl. A girl alone, leaning against her lonely walls, a girl belonging to no one. Is a girl who cannot resist hearing about the one she loved. 

Loves. 

“Yes.” She allows it. He complies because she knows he must have no one to talk to about this. 

“He told me last week that he’s seeing a specialist—therapist, once a week.”

She smiles. She remembers the last time they had sex they talked about reaching out for help. She supposes it’s her turn. 

“That’s- I'm relieved to hear that. Is he doing okay out there?” 

Andrea has a reoccurring nightmare. She’s walking to work, the heat is brutal and her hands are full of groceries. In her nightmare, one of the bags rip open, fruit falling on the concrete. Every time, she follows an apple that rolls until it hits a news stand. And there—there she sees his face. There she reads his public obituary, the slain American agent. There she dissolves to nothing and wakes up crying harder than she ever has. She cried until she felt like dissolving into nothing. 

“He spares me details that would send me into a stroke but you know. It’s very dangerous work but he’ll make it back home in one piece. He’s too stubborn to die young.” 

Her eyes flicker to the ground and her chin quivers at his words. “Do you miss him?” Is all she can mutter. She cannot be alone in this feeling. She doesn’t like to feel this way. She liked to believe that she gets along without him well, but sometimes the wind blows and it reminds her of summer nights in his bed and she isn’t sure she could go on lying to herself.

Chucho sighs, “He misses you.” He doesn’t answer your question. He knows what you wanted to ask. “He doesn’t tell me because he’s afraid, but every conversation I can hear it in his voice. He is still grieving being away from you, still grieving being deceived. I know you are too. But I wanted to call to tell you that he is okay. I want you to be okay too, Andrea.”

January 1988 Bogota, Colombia

There isn't much work being done. Scoping out for a sicario in a hundred degree weather wasn't ideal but it left some time for beers and ramblings. Murphy dug his hand into the cup holder for another sip of Club Colombiano. “So what year was this?” Murphy looks over to Javi. It had been almost a week since he last saw Hertz. His next session is in two days. He found himself walking with less weight. He even finally told Murphy the name of the girl whose picture is taped on the corner of his desk.

“1986” Javier rasps. “I was driving to the church. I was with my buddy Frankie. He was my best man.” He nearly whispers the last bit. “We were late. It was fucking blazing, 110 degrees. The whole bridal party was there sweating their balls off I’m sure. Frankie is shaking like a leaf next to me, like he’s fucking getting married. Looking for a lighter for a joint he rolled. Mind you, we're been in my bride's car since she arrived in a limousine.”

“Don’t tell me you left her at the altar.”

Javier deadpans, “Let me finish my story.” Murphy chuckles, pressing the cold beer to his neck. “He opens the glove compartment and some papers fall into his lap. And boom, we hit a traffic jam. Frankie, my best man, being the nosy fuck he his opens up the papers. He goes, three months pregnant as of June 6th, can't believe we’re both having kids. I swear to god–”

“No!” Murphy gasps.

“Yeah, Lorraine, the bride, and I hadn’t had sex since February of that year. She was showing a lot, I never thought twice when she told me she was five months along.” Murphy is staring at him like this was the juiciest television worthy story ever told. Javier looks blankly into the rolling hills of Colombia wondering why this happened to him. “I had dropped everything in my life to rush into a loveless marriage for the convenience of a family that wasn't even mine.” His eyes cast low and he feels sick. “So I turned the car around. And Andrea was there waiting to watch me marry someone else. In the heat.”

Murphy rarely knew who Andrea was other than the pretty ex-girlfriend whose picture is taped on his desk; he didn’t tell him too much. The story is enticing, he supposes. Exhilarating from the outside.

Murphy grins, “Well, you saved her a lifetime of hell.” 

He knows it’s true, his inner monologue being spat right back in his face yet he can’t seem to swallow that reality. He's a weak man, he hoped that Murphy would tell him he was wrong, that he needed to get up on a plane this instant and find his girl.

He’s silent for a moment. “Yeah, she never spoke to me again, Andrea I mean. She’ll probably be married to a-a stock broker or some shit when I come home.” If I come home, he intends to say but decides maybe this wasn’t the moment. “Trust me, she’s better off.”

“I told my partner, Steve Murphy, about the wedding.”

“That's amazing, Javier.” She sits back down in her brown leather chair, sipping her tea from her small yellow thermo. “How did you feel afterward?” Javier went home to drink himself to sleep. He decides to keep that detail to himself, before reaching forward to sip water instead of fulfilling his urge to light up.

“I felt like I’ve taken some sort of step forward. Then I remembered how it was telling Andrea. Then I felt like I regressed once again, I didn't wake up for work the next morning. This Tuesday I mean.” She’s taking it all in, yet something i n her twinkles. He sees her satisfaction, she knows this is a shy way of telling her he’s ready to talk about it again. Things are changing for him so quickly.

“We were cut for time last week.”

“We were.”

“So,”

“So.” Javier's eyes jet to the plush rug below him. “I walked to her house the night I agreed to marry Lorraine.”

June 18th 1986

He stopped by The Tap before strolling his way into your neighborhood. Sitting on a barstool like he would do back in High School, eyes peeled to the door wondering if his mother would miraculously walk in. This time he doesn’t drink so much, he pushes three beers back and feels sad enough to see you. Sad enough to break your heart. Liquid courage? Is that what they call it? He feels a buzz in his spine.

Somehow he ends up at your door. 

 “Javi, are you alright? It's late.” You whisper, closing the front door behind you. It reminds him of the time he walked to your house after getting wasted. Catching you in Cabaret makeup, you turning bright red under white paint. 

This time you’re bare faced and so much more of a woman. Javier studies you in a buzzed haze, you’re concerned and it’s pissing him off. There you are, barefoot on your porch. Caught off guard and still the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. You step down one step. He wants to drop to his knees and apologize. 

You sense his sorrow so you step back up to be near to his height, placing your hands on his face. Holding his face, “Baby, are you okay?” He knows your worried little face, he knows that somehow in that brain of yours—you’re conspiring what you could have done wrong. Yet it’s never you, it’s always him. You’ve never done wrong.

“Hey…” You whisper, attempting to soothe his quivering chin with a kiss. 

He looks away. Looking into your eyes will kill him. Rejecting your kiss all together. “I’m sorry.” Javier’s voice breaks, and he isn’t embarrassed but he wants to die. He wants it to end because he feels your body go cold without even having to look at you. He’s crying and hiding his face, holding you close and hard. Sobbing into your chest, staining your gray shirt like you did his when he left the first time. “I’m so sorry—I knew I wouldn’t be right for you—Querida, I’m sorry.”

----

He crushes your body with his. He’s muttering words about a wedding, a pregnancy and you’re being crushed. You’re losing air and you hope he squeezes you tighter, hope your eyes fog and you fall. 

Hope to wake up in a cold sweat, and it's all a bad dream. Hope to call him to hang out at the lake.  

He’s crying, and its the worst sound you’ve ever heard. Saying he didn’t mean to become a father. He doesn’t mean to hurt you. He doesn’t know why he hurts you. He says he doesn’t want to be married to her. Calling you sweet names and cursing his own. 

You tell him over and over that it’s okay. Yet you hope he crushes you until you disappear.

 “It’s okay—Javi please, it’s okay— I understand.” You run a hand through his hair and lower your bodies to sit on the steps. It’s 2 am. He’s drunk and unable to give you details without crying in your lap now but you know all that you need to know.

When you saw her—Lorraine. When you saw her wide nose and round little belly you felt fear running through your veins. And you slept with that panic, you dismissed it but your bones felt it. Your intuition told you that the two of you will never be the same. You saw him stare at her belly for a second too long and there—right there— you knew you were in the way of something. 

Eventually he feels okay enough to sit up straight. He still can’t look at you and you miss him in your lap when he does. You miss being able to hide yourself from him. You miss being able to shut your eyes in agony at each word of consolation. Now he can see you, even if he doesn’t look you in the eye he can see you. 

You’re able to understand that she’s five months, that they gave him a choice. To never see her and his child, child— his child— or get married. Through it all you tell him it’s okay. 

“I don’t think I have another choice— I can’t be.-“

“A deadbeat.” You finish for him and he doesn’t respond. The two of you have a million unspoken words between the two of you. 

Look at me, look at what happens when you abandon your child. Look what girls like me put up with. Look at me, you hurt me and I'm still thinking of ways to make it work in my broken little brain. 

He knows what his mother did, how could he ever? How? So you could never find it in you to be angry. 

“I’m sorry— I just can’t.” 

You shut your eyes and lean back into the steps of your home. The sky was bright that night, you couldn’t understand why the universe still presented its beauty during such a moment. 

“When will you get married?” You suppose maybe you like to hurt yourself. 

“They said two weeks.” 

You drop your head into your hands and let out a sob. Heart slamming against your ribs, drowning in it. You fear that you’ll become one with earth, a puddle seeping into the grass ahead of you. You feel his panic next to you. He’s whispering your name, and tearing against the back of your head. Your shoulders wrack and you try to speak.

But you decide silence is all you can handle.

So you stay like this for a few minutes.

“Will you sleep with me tonight?” You ask finally, pathetically. 

And he’s quick to nod, “Yes—please.” His deep voice sends a vibration down your spine. And the two of you walk into your home, without fear—no room for such a silly feeling. 

He undresses and you do too. 

He faces the ceiling and you fear neither of you will catch any hours tonight. You still curl into his chest, for the last time. Feeling his warm tan skin below your ear. You count his heartbeats for minutes at a time. You count your own, attempting to make it stop on your own. Your stomach hurts so badly, you may cry just from that. But you think that you’re a twenty two year old woman who is somehow all cried out. You think of the sun coming up and him getting up to leave, you wonder what the next two weeks will look like. 

You’re sure that if you could you’d stay just like this, together and avoidant until it’s time. Just like you planned a week ago when your only fear was him leaving to Colombia. 

You know he’d do the same because the two of you love pain like no other. You stay in your inferno of a brain for nearly an hour. You know he can’t sleep. 

“What are we going to do?” He asks and you frown. 

“Go our separate ways.”

“I don’t want to.” He’s quick to respond, angry.

“I know.”

“Do you want to?”

“No. But I have to. You have to.” 

“As long as I know you, I'll want you, Andrea.”

You shut your eyes and breathe. You hope he forgets you. You hope you can. You suppose you have to try. 

“After the wedding, I don’t think I’ll ever want to speak to you again.”

You feel him intake a shaky breath. Your heart breaks again. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

His chest rises, “It’s okay. I understand.” You nod, the post of the earrings he bought you scraping his skin. “We probably shouldn’t see each other after today.” He admits and you know he’s right.

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I could be a bridesmaid?” You attempt to joke and he doesn’t laugh. You can’t tell what he does but he shivers. 

“Not funny.” 

“I’m sorry.” You exhale. And there the two of you are pensive. Already missing each other. 

He sighs and it's silent once more. “I really love you.”

You sigh just the same and you love him more. You decide you couldn’t say it out loud this time.

Colombia 1988

His elbow is rested on the arm of the chair and his mouth is pressed to a fist. Eyes closed for a few moments. He thinks of the silence of that night, how he hasn't heard you say I love you since. The words that kept him going, but fuck it, he didn’t feel like he deserved it. He made their life such a mess, over and over again. Again his brain regresses to that of a child, of his own head when he was eleven, when he tore up his mothers room and stained her poetry with his tears. 

He has spent two years suffering, he knows there will be no winning. He lost you. He came here prematurely hoping to win in some way. To bring some good, save some people but he realized there's no winning here either. Just suffering and corruption. The longer he watches people die he swears his faith chips slowly with it.

So he looks over his shoulder once or twice when he leaves his session. There were very few words spoken by Dr. Hertz but what can you do when his story silences so many?

He wishes it could silence his own thoughts but instead it festers and crowds his brain in the most crucial moments. Like when he led a raid in a bar in Medellin and swore the woman who sat at the bar with a gun to her head was you. In genuine panic he freezes, the casualties raised from 24 to 25 at that moment. All because of you—him—all because of his thoughts of you, plaguing him.

And he thinks of you in the most insignificant moments. Insignificant like burying himself deep in the cunt of a woman who’s being paid. He thinks of you and can't keep it up from the guilt. What a curse it is to feel so deeply about someone. 

He remembers once, you lie beside him half asleep and mumbling like you did after sex. You said that sometimes love scares you so much that for a time you wished to never feel it. He thought of you so crazy, he fears he understands you now.