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#nothing left to love but i want to do desperately
cherryredstars · 1 day
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you know what season it is!!! back shots in a sundress with no panties!! i strongly request rich people private beach sex! boat sex! rich sugar daddy husband who is never really home but when he is he WRECKS your body!!
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Pairing(s): Miguel O'Hara, Simon Riley, John Price x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Public Sex, SugarDaddy!Characters, Simon isn't gentle in this one (sorry!)
A/N: My favorite season!!!!
Unedited
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| SIMON "GHOST" RILEY: CAKE BY THE OCEAN
He can't help himself when his pretty baby is all dolled up for him.
You got that cute little sundress he bought you on, letting out little giggles every time the wind picks up and you have to hold your dress down like the better version of Marilyn Monroe. He doesn't understand why you do it though. You're the one who begged him to take leave so the two of you can spend the warm weather at the beach house, wanting to spend time on the private beach. Plus, if you really cared about decency, you wouldn't have left without panties. He thinks you're adorable, clueless to the fact that you've flashed him a handful of times already.
But maybe that's part of some secret plan you've been plotting. especially when you pout at him and demand he let you rub sunscreen all over his body.
I just don't want your scars to get irritated, Si.
He thinks your a fucking liar. How else would that explain the way you so willingly sprawl out on the beach blanket you've brought along, your bare ass exposed to him as your dress is bunched around your waist. In the sun, he can see your dripping cunt glistening with arousal. He fucking loves the pretty gasps you let out when the wind fans over your folds, a tiny plea for him to stop his teasing following after. His poor, spoiled baby, so desperate to have a different kind of fun at the beach.
He doesn't care for the beating sun burning his back as his thick cock slides through your puffy folds, more focused on the way your insides are a thousand times hotter. The only thing he needs coating his skin is your sticky arousal as it drips around his cock, a foamy ring of white forming at his base as he thrusts into you. He hates sand, but he doesn't mind the way it gets on the blanket as you pull on it, crying and hiccuping at him how it's too much.
"Si! It's too hot, I'm getting all gross and sweaty!" You sob out, teary eyes looking back at him.
He coos at your cries, giving your ass a hard smack before rubbing the pain away. You could have just told him you needed something to help you cool down. He's more than happy to help as he licks over your skin, his saliva coating your neck and shoulder blades. You taste like the sun and sweat, and he knows that after his he'll need to eat out that pretty pussy of yours to see how they add to your addictive taste.
He must have spoiled you too much, rolling his eyes as you start complaining about how sticky your skin feels with his spit drying on you. He shuts you up with a few punishing thrusts, only tolerating your incoherently wobbly moans and cries. He grits his teeth when he feels his high peaking, swiftly pulling out of you with a groan as he hot seed shoots onto your back. It darkens the fabric of your dress, pearly lines sitting on your sparkling skin.
Simon chuckles as you whine under him, his rough hands rubbing his cum over your skin in a thin layer.
"Gotta make sure your pretty skin is nice and coated, love."
His cum looks close enough to sunscreen, anyways.
| MIGUEL O'HARA: HANDS ON THE WHEEL
"Keep 'er steady, baby."
You only moan back in reply, your hands tightening around the wheel. Your hands are sweating from the sun's heat and from the heat radiating off of Miguel's body as he thrusts into you. The sound of your wet cunt is drowned out by the sound of the ocean, but Miguel is more concerned about the ocean of wetness that gushes around his cock. Your grip on the wheel has nothing on the vice grip your pulsating walls have on his cock.
His large hands reach up, his chest pressing against your sweaty back as his hands cover yours. He guides your hands slightly to keep the wheel straight, his thrusts not stopping. He's trying to teach you how to steer the boat through groans, and you only moan and whine in response as your mind gets consumed by the way his cock drills into you. Miguel curses when your grip on the wheel slips, your body falling forward as your orgasm crashes into you and the wheel spins quickly out of control.
His hand instinctively clasps around your neck to keep you from hitting your head on the wheel, making your back arch as he pulls you close to him as his other hand works to fix the wheel. His cock slips out of you, the ends of your fluttery dress pushing over his angry tip. He grunts as he thrusts his cock into your back, groaning as he spurts hot strings of pearly white dampen the back of your dress. You babble as you come down, feeling the wet parts of your dress starting to cling to your skin.
"Didn't I tell you that ya'gotta be careful while at the wheel, mi vida?"
Well, whose fault is that.
| JOHN PRICE: PRETTY HOUSEWIFE
This by far is his favorite part of coming home.
He loves getting home after a rough deployment, only to find his pretty little wife waiting dutifully at home for him. You treat it like a special occasion, making his favorite meals in that cute little apron and sundress that has his cock throbbing. You're so good to him. It's only right that he shows his appreciation with a good fucking.
He doesn't care if his hot plate of food is getting cold as he bullies his cock into your needy hole. You're so tight from not being filled with his cock for so long, your fingers not stretching you out the way his fat cock can. Your little moans and cries of his name are the only nourishment he needs at the moment. His pretty little wife takes him so well.
"Looks so gorgeous f'me like this, doll." John grunts at you, chuckling at the way your walls flutter around him.
This is by far the greatest way to be welcomed home, and of course he's gotta give you the first of many gifts he's got you while he was away. He groans low and deep as he shoots the build-up of cum that's been sitting painfully in his balls, watching as it gushes around his cock as your pussy gets stuffed full. You look so pretty sitting across from him in that sundress, trying to keep as much cum as possible in your snug cunt as he finally digs into his home-cooked meal.
No way in hell he'd let his seed go to waste.
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jaylaxies · 2 days
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HARD THOUGHT !
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pairing: jungwon x fem!reader
cw: smut, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, usage of nicknames.
warning: 18+ content, minors dni
a/n: this was requested by anonnie! i hope you enjoy <3
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“Don’t fucking move,” Jungwon groans right against your cunt, sending the vibrations up your spine as he spread your folds with his fingers, caressing your clit teasingly, looking up at you for just a second—his lips wet with his drool and your juices, dripping down his chin, “don’t you dare move, kitten,” he chuckles, his gaze dark as he holds on to your thighs tight enough for it to bruise later.
When you said you needed a release, this is exactly what you had asked for. Exam season stressed you out beyond words, and after the last exam of the subject you hated the most, there was no way you’d act calm, especially when Jungwon came to pick you up, clad in the white button up which was attractive as it is, but he had to go a step further by rolling up his sleeves which did nothing to hide his veiny hands.
“You did so well on your exams, let me reward you now, hm?” He said, eyes focused on finding the perfect spot to park his car, his hand squeezing your thigh wasn’t helping either, a low whine leaving your lips, and even though your eyes were closed, you could clearly feel him smirking as he stopped the car.
“Get in the back,” he whispered.
And that’s how you found yourself all spread out for Jungwon, even in the little room that the backseat provided, he made it all work. With your arched back pressed against the door, you tugged on his hair harder, a growl leaving his mouth with how immersed he was in pushing his tongue inside your hole, his rough thumb pad taking care of your clit in a speed which had your legs feeling weak.
“J—Jungwon,” you whined, causing him to hum and chuckle as he felt your body shaking.
He couldn’t help but dig his fingers in the flesh of your thighs, pushing his face closer to your cunt, as if he wanted to suffocate between your legs.
The sensation coursed through your body, your toes curling as the windows started fogging up with your activities and Jungwon had no intentions to stop, lapping up your cunt as if he’d be waiting ages to do this, to taste you, and somehow, each lick and flick of his tongue on your clit felt more intense than the previous one.
“You did so well, so fucking well, kitten,” he mumbled, hair messy as you kept on moaning louder, chanting his name as your thighs shook and you squirmed, but his hold on you was tight enough for you to stay in your place. He could care less about your cunt dripping all over his car seats, he only had one thing in his mind—your cunt.
It was as if he was addicted to your taste, and he ate you out like he meant it, making sure that your whole body could feel his desperation, your mind numbing as you approached your high, and Jungwon wasn’t going to stop, not even when you were throwing your head back and biting your first to stop your moans.
“Fucking hell, let me hear your moans,” he cussed, slapping your cunt while staring at you with dark eyes—a warning for you to behave. You couldn’t help but listen, somehow moaning even louder than before, trying to grab something, anything, which is why you tugged on his hair again, causing him to suck on your clit while fucking his fingers into your wet cunt, still not stopping.
“Jungwon, please,” you cried out, and he only went harder, using his two fingers and thrusting them into your hole so hard, you felt as if you were seeing stars, your sounds reverberating and your mind blanking out even more as he went on, so fucking needy to have a taste of you, and you knew you were gone the second he curled his fingers in your cunt. The last bit of sanity left your body as you squirmed and squirted all over his fingers while he only chuckled and rubbed your clit with his fingers, loving the sight in front of him, letting you breathe for just a second before asking:
“Ready for round two, kitten?”
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thesassypadawan · 2 days
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Ask Nicely (Master Anakin x FemPadawanReader)
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Summary: Somedays you think your new master hates you and others… Well, let’s just say, you find out soon enough…when he expresses his disdain for you asking Obi-Wan nicely to take care of your needs.
Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because of all the lovely smut. Jealous Skyguy, rough fingering/kisses…and Ani’s thick digits. Padawan Reader is of age, 5 years younger than him.
“What’s the big deal? All I did was train with Master Kenobi,” you huffed. Rolling your eyes so hard that you wondered if they’d get stuck like that.
Anakin had been lecturing you nonstop for the last half hour. Starting from the minute he had practically dragged you out of the dojo…through the temple halls…back to your shared quarters. His strong hand wrapped firmly around your arm the whole way.
“For the fourth time this week,” he growled. Arms crossed as he leaned in the doorway, a frown on his face. “As your master, it’s my responsibility-”
“And you’re doing such a great job…” Having shed the last of your sweat soaked clothes, you began rummaging through your drawers. Back turned to him, not caring that you were standing there in only your undergarments. “…of neglecting those duties.”
You weren’t in the wrong, not in the very least. The two of you never had the greatest of relationships or, for that matter, one really at all. Constantly arguing and fighting, butting heads over anything and everything. Which grew worse when you abruptly became his padawan learner; to the point where you were verily certain that he hated you.
Or there was always something else that led you, made you want to believe…
Capturing your elbow, he easily whirled your around. “Listen here, it’s not my fault-”
“No, it is!” You snapped; jabbing your finger into his chest, refusing to stepdown. “You’re the whole reason why I have to go ask Obi-Wan nicely to help take care of my needs!”
Clearly striking a nerve, you watched as Ani’s jaw clenched tighter. Eyes narrowing at you, something dark flickering inside them. “Careful now; you don’t know-”
“Actually, I think I do,” you boldly interrupted once more. Mouth curling up into a sly grin, because you knew what you said next would anger him enough to either silence or… “You’re jealous! You can’t stand the idea of another man…let alone your old master…touching my body! Guiding me, teaching me how to move in ways that you aren’t able to!”
“Little one,” he snarled in warning. Shoving you back against the dresser, pinning you in place. Towering over your smaller frame menacingly.
You should have been terrified, horrified. Despite this though, you kept goading Anakin. “And his big hands felt so good resting on my hips… His fat cock pressing into my ass…”
Before you could continue, you were cut off by a quick, invisible squeeze to your neck. One that left you briefly stunned, speechless. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see what you have to say about Obi-Wan after I’m done teaching you.”
Not even a second later and his mouth was slotted against yours in a fiery kiss. Biting sharply at your bottom lip, demanding entrance. All the while his mechno hand found its way to your breast, tearing the bindings off like they were nothing.
The moment the cold air hit your exposed nipples, you let out a small whimper. Allowing Ani to slip his tongue in, wrestling with and pinning yours down. Showing you who was in control, attempting to force you into submission.
You tried to pull away, but he held you fast to him. Organic hand gripping the back of your head, long fingers tangling and tugging your hair roughly. The other delivering a solid slap to each tit before he finally decided it was time to break apart.
Gasping, coughing for air. A desperate whine escaped you as he trailed his lips down your jaw, your throat; leaving an array of lovely marks in their wake. Until they wrapped themselves around a pebbled bud; sucking hungrily, biting lightly when your back arched in response. “M-Mast-ter.”
While he lavished your chest with hot kisses, Anakin’s hand followed the curves of your body. Brushing your clothed mound, chuckling once he felt how drenched you were. “Would you look at that; already so wet for me. Bet the old bastard can’t get you like this…”
Nipping a sensitive nub one last time, he had risen back up. Hand grasping your chin tightly, lips crashing against your in another searing kiss. Making you mewl softly, body trembling in anticipation.
“…or sound like that,” he growled low. Suddenly yanking your panties to the side, plunging two leather clad fingers into your cunt.
Squealing, you clenched hard around him. Walls fluttering from the foreign sensation, from being stuffed so full. Hips rocking back and forth in time with his painfully slow pumps. A squelching sound filling the air.
Wanting and craving more. All that pent up frustration had you already so embarrassingly close to crashing over the edge. That you were reduced to a mere babbling mess when Ani abandoned your mouth and pressed his lips to your neck again. Kissing the junction of it and your shoulder, tongue lapping at the tender flesh. A pleasant shiver running down your spine. “P-please…please…”
His pace picked up, thick digits thrusting deep with you. Bullying and bruising your cervix, muttering. “Oh, are you close? You want to cum?”
Panting, you nodded frantically. The heat inside of you overwhelming while you lost touch with reality more and more from each drive.
“Words,” he demanded. Adding the remaining two, slamming them brutally into your packed pussy. “Use them.”
“Yes, s-so close!” You squeaked, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment. “L-let me c-cum, master!”
At your words, he sunk his teeth in. Breaking the skin, hissing a ‘no’ as he abruptly withdrew his fingers. Pulling away, your fresh blood tinting his lips red.
A wild cry flew from your mouth. Sobbing at the denial, body sagging against the dresser. Hips bucking shamelessly in the air, trying to regain the pleasurable feelings that had been coursing through you.
Grabbing your ass, Anakin squeezed…smacked it hard. Smearing your slick across your freshly soiled panties. “Only good padawans get to do that…you haven’t been. Now, why don’t you try asking me nicely and maybe…I’ll help take care of your needs.”
Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @cacti5539, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen
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justauthoring · 1 day
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a life like mine.
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because you may think you're nothing, but gojo thinks you're the whole world (modern au).
a/n -> goooojjjjjjooooooooooooo
pairing -> gojo satoru x f!reader
tw. -> you're a prositute, implied sexual content, physical abuse (not by gojo), dubious content (not by gojo) also, not spell-checked :)
he'd noticed it as you were clasping your bra on.
a large, weltering bruise; the size of his hand and black and blue and everything nasty. something uncomfortable twists in his chest, face falling as he pushes himself up to rest on the crook of his elbow. when his hand touches your back, you jump despite how soft his touch is, head turning over your shoulder and frowning when you realize what he's staring at.
"it's nothing," you dismiss instantly. you brush his worry away and stand, putting extra care into stepping away from him as you slip your panties on; a matchy lilac lacy pair to go with your bra.
gojo isn't so easily distracted though. "who did it to you?"
and he watches, always aware of you and your emotions, as your face twists; there's a flash of fear that appears in your eyes but you blink it away as fast as it came. "a client," you say eventually, short and sweet. to the point. it's clear you don't want him to ask more questions.
gojo just stares back at you.
you huff. "some dude that came in yester—no, two days ago." there's a pause, body stilling, and then you're brushing out your hair. "it's fine."
but that uncomfortable feeling still weighs heavy in gojo's chest. he sits up, moving to the edge of the bed as he watches you clean and fix yourself. the reality of the situation weighs heavily on his shoulders—in a minute you'll walk out that door, put a bright smile on your lips and you'll do what you just did with him to another man.
"i've been thinking," gojo speaks up, eyes still stuck on that bruise.
"yeah?" you call out, distracted, "what about?"
"you and me."
everything stills then. the tense air thickens into something else entirely as your eyes snap to his. you stand there before him with a dark look in your eyes, practically willing him not to finish what he's threatening to start.
"sato—"
"no, just—just listen to me, okay?" he's pushing himself to his feet, crossing the distance over to you in seconds. his hands fall on your arms so as not to let you pull away, tugging you towards him as he smiles down at you; as if he's got the solution to everything. "we work well together—you and me. you—i like you. a lot. and not just for the sex. i like your spirit... i love how you laugh and the jokes you make. i like when you give me shit and i love when i get to see that sparkle in your eye."
you're shaking your head, lips parting but gojo doesn't give you the chance.
"it leaves the second you walk out that door, y/n." gojo breathes, voice desperate, "the second you're out there you're someone else. someone you're forced to be. and i know you need the money but i can give you that money. you don't need to... to—"
"—to what?" you cut in, voice sharp, eyes narrowing. "whore myself out?"
gojo's huffs. "i didn't say that."
"but that's what you meant," you shrug. "the second i go out there i'm not myself? that's what you believe?" you raise a brow, pulling away from his grasp. gojo attempts to stop you and you slap his hands away. "the second i'm out there, satoru, i'm not longer the girl you want me to be. that's the truth."
"y/n—
"no, you listen to me," you hiss, pushing him back by his chest. "i like you, it's true. we get along. you're nice to me... but don't think you're any different from any one of those men out there." your arm shoots back sharply to gesture towards the door; to the other side that is blasting music and filled with lights and occupied by men waiting for their pick of women like you.
lips left parted, gojo watches as you kneel down, grabbing his jeans off the floor and reach into his front pocket. a second later there's a wad of cash in your hands. "you pay me. just like them. you think you're better because you're some son of some rich daddy? because your inheritance is some big corporation?"
and gojo notices it then—the tears welling in your eyes.
"you're not. you may be prettier, smarter... whatever. but you come in here and you pay me for my body just like them. and anything we do or the way i act is because that's my job. to satisfy men by being the type of women they want."
you throw the money at him and gojo catches it, watching as you move to leave the room.
just as your hand falls on the door, he speaks up; "is it your job to let them hit you?"
and he knows it's a cruel thing to say. he knows it's mean and horrible and the worst possible thing he could say to you in that moment. but he's angry and his feelings are hurt, so he says it all the same.
your eyes meet his fiercely, shining with pure hatred.
"not everyone gets to choose the life they live, satoru," you whisper and something about it scares gojo cold. "so don't you dare judge me for living mine."
-
gojo had started visiting you four months ago.
he'd walked into the club one night, surrounded by a bunch of his friends; they'd walked in with their heads held high and the clear confidence that they knew they were better than every other person in that room.
your boss had dropped everything to greet them. shaking and honestly pitiful, he'd dined and served on them for whatever they wanted.
you remember thinking that it was odd such high-class men had come to your club. gross, old and fat men came to your club; not young, attractive men like him and his friends.
that didn't mean you expected him to act any different.
he was though. so different. sure, he'd been cocky and it was clear he was quite high on himself. he still threw flirts your way and eyed you, but it was different than how it had been with any of the other men that had before him. his teases were genuine flirts, could even be considered sweet. he didn't eye you like a peace of meat and when he finally had you alone, he'd been just as attentive on you as you were on him.
he'd paid extra and had smiled at you so sweetly you were unable to deny the flutters it gave you.
he returned two weeks later. then, four days later. and then, he just... kept coming.
three weeks ago, your boss had been replaced. it wasn't that you particularly loved your boss before, but he was nice enough and he was extra careful about making sure you and none of the girls were ever harmed outside of any kinks in the bedroom.
he was decent enough for the club you worked at.
this new guy didn't give a shit. not about you, or any of the other girls—all he cared about was money. and with him brought scarier clients. the first time you'd seen one of the girls with a black eye, you'd went to tell him and he'd told you to fuck off.
when you pushed, he'd slapped you and told you if you didn't shut up, he'd do worse.
the next night a man had chosen you and almost immediately he had unnerved you. the way he looked at you was nothing good; cruel and like he couldn't wait to get his hands on you. across the room, you'd seen your new boss looking at you and the glare on his face had been clear.
don't screw up.
that man, some big CEO of some big company, had kept you all night. hours and hours. it wasn't the sex that bothered you—you'd had rough sex before, especially considering your job. it was... the way he'd held you, the way he choked you so hard you'd blacked out. it's the way he'd hit you when you tried to fight back.
it was the things he called you and the things he'd said to you.
a week later was when gojo had came in and that was the last you'd seen him since.
clearly, his talk of 'you and him' had been nothing.
that man, haruto ito was his name, came back two days after. and four after that, and he'd come back tonight too. each and everytime he requested you and each and everytime he got more and more violent.
"—stupid bitch, are you listening to me?"
you're pulled from your thoughts as a sharp pain radiates from your cheek. you blink, stunned, only to find a pair of narrowed, harsh eyes staring back at you. it's haruto, and he looks less than pleased.
"s-sorry, sir," you apologize, ignoring the hurt of your cheek as you step towards him. you right yourself quickly, knowing it'd be worse if you didn't, and make sure to swing your hips as you saunter towards him, hands falling on his shoulders to straddle his waist. "now, where were we? i—"
he pushes you off him, without a care for you, as you slam into the carpetted floor with a cry. hand sprawled out behind you to catch yourself, you stare up at him in surprise.
"what—"
"i want to try something different tonight," he leers, not a care in the world that he'd just hurt you, smiling brightly at your pain.
your stomach twists, fear blooming through you.
"sir, i—"
"no more 'sir'," he scoffs, rolling his eyes. "i think 'master' would be more appropriate, no?"
swallowing thickly, you let out a shaky breath. "i, um, m-master, i don't understand—"
"just shut up and do what i tell you," he brushes off with a wave of his hand. "first, i want you to lick my boot."
he extends his foot out towards you, and your eyes fall on it, puzzled.
"sir—master," you speak hesitantly, "wouldn't you rather if i—"
"do it. now."
hands left curled in your lap, something horrible twists in you. it was one thing to degrade yourself for the pleasure of these men; to have sex with them or suck them off or anything of that sort... but to... lick his boot?
it felt... worse.
dehumanizing.
"i-i don't... i mean, this isn't what we're supposed to do. i don—"
"i paid for you," he hisses, reaching forward to grab a handful of your hair. he tugs, hard, a cry leaving your lips as you're forced to bend your body awkwardly to relieve the strain. "so you'll do whatever the fuck i tell you to."
"p-please, i—!"
he slaps you across the face, this time harder, before he uses that hand to grip your jaw, pinching, squeezing until your mouth is forced open and his face is right in front of yours.
his eyes are blazing and you realize that you're terrified.
"lick. my. boot."
he lets go then, dropping you as you sink into yourself, shaking and crying as a sob wretches from your throat. he pushes his foot in front of your face, lightly kicking you with it, and you dig your nails into the palm of your hand as you force your mouth apart and move to lick.
just as you do, you hear the distinct voice of your boss and pounding footsteps.
"—sir! she is with a client!"
"i don't care. get out of my way!"
your head snaps over your shoulder in the direction of the door. that was—
"what are you doing?" haruto hisses, grabbing you by the arms as he tugs you back towards him. his grip is pinching and you yelp in response, turning back only to see him pulling his hand back and your eyes fall shut, trying to steady yourself for the pain you know will come.
except, it never does.
in the midst of everything, you hadn't heard the door slam open. it isn't until, a moment later, that you flicker your eyes open in confusion, only to see gojo looming beside you, his hand gripping haruto's wrist in his own.
and his face—it's the angriest he's ever seen it.
"what the hell is—" haruto attempts to call, moving to stand, but gojo cuts in.
"is that how you let your client treat your own employees?" gojo asks, murderous eyes focused in on your boss. you glance back at him and it's the first time you've seen your boss look so afraid. "beat them? and you." he spins to haruto, and you watch as he cries out, gojo's grip turning painful. "you like hitting defenceless girls?"
you're shaking, you realize. shaking and crying. your heart is bounding against your chest and it's then you realize you're still naked. as your hands move to cover yourself, you miss the way gojo's eyes fall on you.
something warm falls over your shoulders then. it's gojo's jacket.
meeting his eyes, the concern in them, a fresh wave of tears fall down your cheeks.
gojo let's go of haruto, and before either him or your boss can say anything, his arms are slipping underneath your back and knees and he's lifting you to his chest. he turns, pushing your boss out of the way and walks right out the door.
a second later, your boss comes running out. "wh-where do you think you're taking her? she's still one of my girls!"
a group of your coworkers, other girls who'd heard the commotion, are standing by the bar watching. there's concerned looks on their faces, especially when some of them see the state of you, and there's confusion.
gojo stops right by the door leading outside.
"consider this her quitting."
-
gojo hadn't said a word.
he'd been silent in the car ride, having tucked you into the passenger seat, making sure his jacket was still wrapped around you tightly. you don't know how long you drove, all you could focus on was the sobs that refused to stop.
when you reached what you assume was his house (mansion more like it) the tears finally stopped. he refused to let you walk, opting to carry you and didn't set you down until you reach a bedroom. his bedroom.
he'd grabbed a shirt and some sweats, both which were too big, but helped you dress into them before tucking you into bed. he'd then left, only to return with a glass of water, a clothe and a first aid kit.
all without saying a word.
now, having just finished cleaning your words, you were desperate for him to say something.
"i'm sorry," you whisper, unable to handle the silence. "i'm so, so sorry."
and that makes gojo still. he freezes on the seat next to you, body tensing as his eyes slowly flicker to meet your own and then he's shaking his head. "why are you apologizing?"
the tears well again even if you desperately try to hold them back. "because of what i said to you..." you whisper, hugging yourself as your lip trembles. "you're nothing like them. and... and i should've listened to you."
gojo's silent for a long moment. it drifts, carries on and leaves you tense and unsure. and then, finally, he speaks.
"it's not your fault."
and his voice is firm, leaving no room for any arguments as he shakes his head at you. "i should've tried to be more sensitive to you."
nodding numbly, you glance at your lap. "how'd you know?"
"one of my friends visited," gojo starts. "said he saw your boss hit one of the girls. i remembered the bruise and i was there before i even realized it."
your eyes widen then. "the other girls!" you hadn't thought about it in the moment; scared and desperate to get away. but your boss would surely be angry about what had happened with you and that meant— "they'll be punished! my boss, he'll—!"
gojo's hand falls on your own, soft and warm, gentle. "don't worry about that, baby. my guys are there. they'll help them."
lips parting, you turn to gojo. "really?"
he smiles. "i promise."
eased at that, you nod. silence follows then, echoes for a few moments.
gojo is the first to break it. "i meant what i said even if i said it wrong."
you turn to him, confused.
"you and me," he clarifies and you blink. "i never went to you just for the sex. maybe at first, but never after that. i... i can't explain it but i could never stop thinking about you. you were on my mind all the time. and it pained me to see you stuck in a place you hated so much."
squeezing your hand, gojo shifts, leaning closer to you.
"i mean it. you don't have to go back, ever. i... you can stay with me."
your heart warms but you hesitate. "what about money? i... i don't have any to give you."
"i don't need it. you could live here forever and never work and i wouldn't care," he professes and something about the way he says it tells you he means it. "i have more than enough money in the world. but... but if you want something, i can help you get a job. something better. something safer."
biting your lip, you sniffle. "i... i always wanted to work with kids."
gojo smiles then; "then you'll work for kids."
you stare at him, stunned that a man like him would do so much for a girl like you. "why?" you ask, shakign your head. "why do all this for me?"
"because..." and he hesitates, inhaling sharply as he thinks over his words. but the resolution comes with ease and gojo's words are heartfelt and meaningful as he answers. "because i love you."
your lips part, stunned.
"you don't have to love me back," he assures with a shake of his head. "i know i used you the same as all those other men. but please know i never meant it that way."
you shake your head. "it never felt that way to me. i didn't mean what i said before."
gojo seems eased at that, smiling. "i'm glad."
"and... and," you start slowly, inhaling sharply. "i don't know if i love you... yet. but i trust you," you confess, meeting his eyes. "and you make me happy. and i think i could learn to love you."
gojo just smiles.
"that's all i could ask for."
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ssparksflyy · 1 day
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what's he got that i don't? 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚
pairing percy jackson x fem!reader summary based off this request!! an i actually love this request sm 😋 in jealous percy we trust
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PERCY sighed dramatically as he plopped himself down on his bed, scooting up to put his head in your lap. he'd just gotten back from a meeting with chiron about helping out with teaching new campers how to handle swords and was quite frankly, exhausted. he'd spent his whole day running around, going from lesson to lesson, already helping out with all sorts of things. he hadn't seen you since breakfast and desperately needed to feel you close after his hectic day. walking into his cabin to see you sitting in his bed reading made him feel like maybe the gods didn't hate him and they knew how to answer his prayers after all.
"long day?" you asked, moving one of your hands down to his hair and ran your fingers through it while the other continued to hold up your book.
"mhm" he hummed in response.
"what'd you do?" you followed up.
"teach, teach some more, help out, then go teach again" he said, "i didn't even ask to be a teacher."
"you didn't ask for a lot of things, just another thing to add to the list babe. im sure the kids who need help greatly appreciate you and your teaching"
"i guess"
you sat in silence for a minute, continuing to play with percy's hair and read. he would've been fine staying like that and maybe even wouldve ended up falling asleep in your lap, but he had hardly spent any time with you today. he wanted to talk to you more and kiss your lips and hug you, but your nose was stuck in that stupid book he didn't even understand.
"whatcha reading?" he asked and lifted his head up, moving it to rest his chin on your stomach.
"the hunger games" you replied.
he mumbled a quick 'okay' and kept his head on your stomach, looking up at you and watching as you read.
as much as percy loved quiet moments like this, it was the opposite of what he wanted. he knew you enjoyed reading, and now was one of the few opportunities you got to read in peace, but he hadn't seen you in hours and (even though he wouldnt admit it) was in desperate need for your attention. when he saw you smile at something in your book, he decided to try for a conversation again.
"whatcha smilin' at?"
you looked away from your book, "nothin. just this guy."
he got up and furrowed his brow, "what guy?"
"he's not real, percy."
"don't matter, what guy is making my girl smile like that?"
you rolled your eyes, "a guy made of ink and imaginations. that's who."
"lemme see" he said, holding out his hand for you to hand him the book.
you handed him the book and watched as he squinted his eyes, trying to read it.
"i can't read."
"i know."
"what's it say?"
he handed you the book back, ""i don’t think it’s going to work out. winning . . . won’t help in my case," says peeta. "why ever not?" says caesar, mystified. peeta blushes beet red and stammers out. "because . . .because . . . she came here with me.""
percy pauses for a second. "you were smiling at that? what does it even mean?"
"see! you dont get it, it's nothing." you said, trying to brush it off.
"mmm i think its something" he said. he already had your attention away from reading your book, now it was just a matter of keeping it up.
"you wanna know? fine." you huffed, "im smiling because i remember when i read this for the first time and i was freaking out because katniss and peeta hardly even talk in this part of the book, and he just reveals that he's got a crush on her, but you don't know that he's actually faking it - but at the same time he's not - because it's set in katniss' perspective, so you're left all 'what was that?! what does he mean!!!' and it becomes something that peeta does again later cause he's smart and knows what cards to play in order for people to like him!!"
he looked at you in surprise, "oh- wow, sorry." he apologized, taking your hands in his, "so is peeta your favorite character?"
you knew you could just give him a simple yes and be over with the whole thing, but if he wanted the truth, then the truth is what he would get.
"yea, he really is. he's just the perfect guy" you said smugly, opening your book back up and pretending to start reading again.
"pfff- yea right! what happened to imaginations and ink?" he said. you could hear the slightest bit of jealousy in his voice and decided to keep going.
"doesnt take away the fact that he's perfect" you said as a mattter-of-factly.
"oh yea? well i think he's a fake nobody."
"fake nobody or not, he's still really smart, strong, an artist, a great baker, handsome in the movies-"
"josh hutcherson is not handsome."
"im gonna act like you didn't just say that." you said, realizing this was going the way you wanted it to, "but gods, did i mention how good of a boyfriend he is? i mean the way he cared for katniss?? hes literally everything a girl could ask fo-"
"hey you know im your boyfriend, not him, right?" percy asked, his tone sounding unsure and annoyed.
you stopped there and put your book down. you didn't think he'd actually be bothered by you talking about a fictional guy. he was never really the jealous type, had he actually taken it seriously?
"perce... are you.. jealous?" you asked in disbelief.
he gave you an offended look that you could tell was fake, "what?! no! course not! why would i be jealous of some fake baker dude??"
you couldnt help but laugh as he continued to try and defend himself from your 'wild' and 'indecorous' 'accusations'.
"i wasnt accusing you of anything! just asking!!" you said through your fit of giggles.
"yea you were! i feel very attacked right now, i though this was supposed to be a safe space!!" you only laughed more.
once you managed to get yourself to stop laughing, you moved closer to percy and pressed a kiss on his cheek. "i was just joking, you know that right?"
he mumbled a quick 'yea' while moving over to your side so he could put his arm around you and pull you into his chest. he left a kiss ontop of your head as you got comfortable in his embrace, putting your book on his nightstand.
percy had gotten his chance to talk to you, and now was able to hold you close, just like he wanted. yes it took listening to you ramble about some other (fake) guy, but who cares!! before finally closing his eyes and falling under hypnos' spell, he only had one more question about the book you were reading.
"by the way, who's finnick odair?"
"OHMYGOD, SO-"
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mydearestdaryl · 2 days
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝑏𝜄𝜏𝜀 𝑚𝜀 ⁽¹⁸⁺⁾ ౨ৎ
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summary: vampire! daryl can't help but get turned on when you let him feed off you. warnings: vampire feeding, blood, smut (does dry humping count?), desperate daryl. pairing: vampire! daryl x female reader. setting: no-apocalypse au, vampire au. a/n: first time writing about vampires so i can just hope this doesn't suck, but tysm for reading! inspired by @norman-fucking-reedus's post about vamp! daryl, so, credits to her for the idea! 🤍
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the last thing daryl wanted to do to you was hurt you. he'd rather die than let you, his precious, sweet girl, experience any type of pain or be in any kind of danger.
that is why he never gave in to your idea to feed off you.
no matter how much his mouth watered and his fangs felt sharper when he kissed your neck, when he so little as smelled your intoxicating scent, or when his head was buried between your legs, lapping up every drop of the shattering orgasm his tongue made you reach.
that was until now.
your tongues collided and danced together in a battle for dominance as you lay on top of him on the bed. his hands ascended and descended on the delicate curve of your waist at a patient pace that was quickening slowly, and your hands gently tugged at his hair. your weight on his felt so good.
with a gasp for air, you pulled away to breathe, eyes hazy with love and lust as you smiled at your lover, whose eyes mirrored yours, but they carried the ever-present self-control he needed all the time not to bite you and drink your delicious blood. fuck, just a taste.
“bite me,” you said before you could even register your words, still, you meant it. your hips involuntarily ground down to meet his growing erection creating a tent in his pants, adding in a whisper: “please,” you mumbled against his lips as you kissed him again, hoping it would help convince him to give into your dirty little fantasy.
you felt him groan against your mouth, hearing a muffled “can't”.
with a pathetic whine, you pulled away, finding his control evidently starting to crumble. “please, my love, let me give you this. let me do this for you.”
daryl's blue eyes seemed to darken, if possible, and his pupils almost fully dilated as he seemed to go over the idea in his head. his breathing got a little heavier and his lips parted as his tongue peeked out, gliding almost subconsciously over his lips like a predator staring at a prey in anticipation.
and it was the most glorious fucking sight you've ever seen.
the hunger. the raw need in his eyes. the last shreds of control fading away. fucking divine.
in a swift and abrupt motion, he flipped you on your back, hovering over you as you tilted your head back, willingly offering the long column of your throat.
daryl breathed in your scent, eyes rolling to the back of his head before his tongue darted out to lick the delicate skin of your neck, finding the rhythm of your pulse. he glided his tongue over the area and around a few times, trailing up to your jaw and back down again leisurely.
the anticipation made your fingertips feel electric as they tangled in his chocolate locks, and your legs wrapped around his hips, gluing them to yours.
without warning, fangs punctured flesh, eliciting a low groan from daryl's throat and a yelp from you, which turned into a moan as you felt what was at first a subtle sucking sensation, and turned into a powerful rush as he drew long pulls from your lifeforce into his starving body.
your eyelids fluttered, cunt clenching on air that matched the rhythm of every draw from his lips, and a series of cries and whines left your mouth shamelessly.
if they weren't shut already, his eyes would be rolling back.
the taste of your blood on his tasting buds was addictive. fucking delectable and like nothing he had tasted before; warm and sweet on his tongue, better than any drug or substance, but with the same effect.
it was an unexpected intimacy sharper and more intense than anything you both had ever experienced.
daryl's hips instinctually buckled up to meet your clothed pussy, setting a rhythm soon, making your legs tighten their grip around him, and meeting him halfway with movements of your own hips.
his erection rubbed right on your clit, setting your body on fire, enhanced by the pleasurable pain of his ivory daggers on your neck that made everything a little clouded. but it was a heavenly sensation that made contrast with the hellish scene of your own blood running down your neck, staining your white top.
daryl's movements sped up, and small, desperate noises formed in his chest. he was now thirsty for release and drunk off your taste. you moaned loudly, “fuck!”
the friction of your jeans and his clothed dick on your arousal made desire coil in your bellies, tightening with each jerk of your hips. “daryl,” you panted, your voice slightly higher.
sweet pressure kept building, daryl's greedy mouth kept drawing blood from you, muscles tensed as he growled against your skin, and albeit reluctant, he parted when he knew taking any more blood from you wouldn't be a good idea. he groaned while keeping his tongue on the wound, preventing any blood from going to waste until no more escaped from the couple of little incisions.
with a few more thrusts, ecstasy exploded inside you two like fireworks. With cries, both came in your pants as daryl kept his hips buckling up, trying to prolong your climaxes until you came back down.
your eyes fluttered shut slowly, your body relaxing underneath him as the strokes of his tongue turned into gentle kisses on the blissful cutting on your neck. your breathing came back to normal after a few minutes. the wound hurt, but you had never felt so relaxed. so happy.
“darlin',” he stroked your cheek, his subsiding euphoria morphing into concern as a bent arm next to your head propped him up. “(y/n), you alright?” he licked his lips, savoring the remnants of your crimson elixir while studying your face.
your heavy eyes opened again, pulling him by his neck to kiss him. sloppy and needy kisses while welcoming the metallic taste in your mouth, making a moan vibrate in his chest and against your lips.
when you pulled apart, daryl rested his forehead on yours, “i love ya,” he confessed in a whisper, almost hoping you didn't hear him, but you could've been able to tell even if he didn't say it, for in that moment he was as profoundly yours and you were his.
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taglist: @ledgeria16 @poisonmedixon
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ystrike1 · 16 hours
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When The Black Wolf Calls My Name - By Yim Hye (8.5/10)
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You know the drama is going to be great when you can understand the villain. The villain in this one is completely insane too, but nothing is as simple as it seems. Our protagonist chooses to remarry to save herself from her obsessive ex-husband, but the reader gets to slowly question the logic behind that choice. She is an unreliable narrator, and that's the most interesting part
Yeonwoo wasn't loved, in the most boring way. Her mother was extremely harsh with her, and her father let it happen. Young Yeonwoo experienced the type of abuse people hate to talk about. Emotional abuse. Seowoo, her younger sister, was loved and spoiled but not her. Why, you ask? Well, Yeonwoo is the smart one with potential. Her mother broke her spirit to turn her into a convenient pack mule. A pillar of support for the family.
When the story begins Yeonwoo is financially responsible for both of her parents, and her younger sister. Why? Because she's successful of course. Yeonwoo became a song composer in Korea. She had great success, and her mother immediately asked for money...in a nice way.
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The family goes on a trip that Yeonwoo is paying for, and they slip off a cliff into the Underworld. The Underworld in this setting has a historical fantasy vibe, and it is ruled by powerful men contracted to animalistic guardian spirits.
In her first life (hint, hint) she marries a powerful man who controls The Brown Bear spirit. He claims he loves her above all else, but he kills her beloved family too.
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She obviously decides to kill herself because she cannot live without her beloved family. Everyone is afraid of Yeonwoo, because Hyojo the Brown Bear loves her so much. When she dies she destroys him, and before her eyes close she notices something.
Another crying man. A man she doesn't even know is weeping desperately for her. She thinks it's out of pity. She wishes no one would cry, because she's dying a prideful death. She's dying to avenge her beloved family.
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When she wakes up again she has silver hair, and her family is alive!!!
They get out of the same ruined car again, and they look around the deep forest. Lost and confused.
I'm not kidding her family abandons her the same chapter. Like less than an hour after they arrive.
Sort of.
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Hwita appears before her instead of Hyojo this time. Yeonwoo says she must go with him immediately...because she wants to protect their ungrateful asshole asses from Hyojo. Marrying a woman from Earth is a highly strategic decision, and as a bonus Yeonwoo is beautiful.
She offers herself to Hwita, and he eventually decides that he's interested in a marriage of convenience.
Her family literally leaves to hang out somewhere safe while she literally DOES ALL THE WORK TO SECURE HER NEW MARRIAGE AND KEEP THEM ALIVE.
The REAL ISSUE could not be more clear.
Yeonwoo refuses to accept it, but she is absolutely still being abused by her family. They're nicer about demanding money and protection now, but the unreasonable expectations from her childhood never changed. They just changed shape.
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Hwita tries to seduce Yeonwoo at first, but he quickly finds out that his beautiful new bride has....problems.
Her greedy family is obviously one of them, but her traumatic second life has left her more heartless. She has no interest in love anymore.
Why?
Well, in her first live she loved Hyojo dearly. By the end of that life his name was branded on her chest, her family was dead, and he wouldn't let other men look her in the eye.
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Hwita, obviously, was the other man crying when she died. I do think he's more gentle than Hyojo...but there's a problem.
A really, really big problem.
Yeonwoo simply cannot see that her family is the problem.
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Hyojo showered her with sweet love. During their honeymoon phase he sang about her beauty and he grew gardens for her and he carried her princess style and they cuddled all the time and he cared about her feelings.
He was always crazy for her, but he wasn't violent in the beginning.
Do I know Hyojo is bad?
Yes.
Do I also know they could have worked on their mutual issues if her family wasn't...like that?
Also yes.
In her first life Yeonwoo tried to kill Hyojo when he threatened her awful family. In response he got crazier and meaner because his beloved bride chose the clown car over his eternal love.
Is he still a dick? Yeah. Is Yeonwoo kind of an annoying victim that refuses to stand up for herself???
Yeahhhh. It's not black and white in this one. The Underworld is not like Earth. Hyojo's violence is more normal and expected than Yeonwoo thinks.
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Hyojo was way too possessive. She's right to avoid him and remarry, but Yeonwoo's family members are definitely stupid enough to insult and demean her in front of her crazed husband.
I 100% know that's how they died without even reading ahead.
It's a real moral conundrum. As a reader you understand why Yeonwoo wants to cling to her family in this unknown world. On the other hand staying with Hwita and leaving the idiots to their fate would be more satisfying.
There's a chance Hwita is a yandere as well. A smarter one. His excuse for marrying Yeonwoo right away is paper thin.
I sincerely hope her family gets punished for using her as their bank account someday.
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babygirlbenji · 2 days
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Prince Charming - Mason Mount
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a/n i feel like i've used this gif before but i do not care! i'm off to a wedding so wanted to get this out! enjoy mwah <3
summary: just some fluff with mason and reader who is sick!
You hated being sick. 
The cough that had been racking your body for the last few days had reduced you to talking in croaky whispers, your whole body ached, you had no energy and all you could do if you weren’t sleeping was watching repeats of Friends. 
What made it even worse was that Mason wasn’t there to look after you and give you the love you so desperately needed to heal. He was in Manchester and you were stuck in London. To add insult to injury, you had planned to take the train up to the north west to see him and watch his game against Liverpool. You’d had to message him the day before, saying you weren’t going to be able to come up. He wanted nothing more than to look after his girl, but Ten Hag had been adamant that Mason would at least be on the bench for the game, if not in the starting lineup. 
It was just an all round bad situation. A long distance relationship was not necessarily what you signed up for, but you loved Mason more than anything in the world. You were both determined to make it work. 
On Friday night, you were tapping through your Instagram stories, looking at all your friends going out and celebrating the end of the working week. You sighed, which obviously turned into a coughing fit. With nothing else to do, you turned off the lights and curled up in bed, hoping that by morning, you would feel better and be able to watch Mason play. 
Or at least that was your plan. This plan was scuppered by your phone lighting up with Mason’s picture as he rang for a FaceTime. You shoved a hoodie on and ran your fingers through your hair in the hopes it would make you a little bit more presentable, before flicking the lamp by your bed on so you could speak to him. 
‘H-Hello,’ you croaked. His face was slightly pixelated through the dodgy WiFi in the hotel he was staying in, but he still managed to look like he’d walked off a Vogue shoot. Damn him, you thought to yourself. 
‘Hey sweet thing, how are you doing?’ Just the sound of his voice was enough to perk you up a bit, and you sat up. 
‘I’m… I’m okay, just tired and got this stupid bloody cold that’s had me bed bound the last two days. How are you?’ You could barely stifle the yawn that crept out of your mouth without any warning. 
‘Oh darling, I’m okay, just called because I’m worried about you, I’ve hardly heard from you the last couple of days and wanted to check in.’ Your heart swelled. You’d been together over two years, but he was still finding ways to make your dreams come true. He really was your Prince Charming. ‘I won’t keep you long as I know you’re sick, just wanted to say I love you and I miss you.’ 
The emotions you’d been feeling over the last couple of days boiled over, and your face crumpled as tears leaked from your eyes. 
‘I really, really miss you, Mase,’ you sobbed. ‘I feel awful, I can’t do any work, I haven’t seen you in like a fortnight, everyone’s going out and enjoying the sun while I’m stuck here on my own with not even Ben or Reece to keep me company as they’re in Timbuktu or something.’ Mason couldn’t help but chuckle at your melodramatics; Ben and Reece were not in Timbuktu, they were in fact in Southampton for their away game. He didn’t have the heart to mention this, though. 
‘I’m sorry, baby, I really am, I wish I could be there to help. Just focus on resting and getting better, okay? I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve finished this game, I promise.’ You sighed. You knew he couldn’t help being a professional footballer, and he loved playing with United, but you couldn’t help but feel like part of your soul went wherever he went. 
You chatted a bit more, or rather, he chatted while you listened to him, before he bade you goodnight and you were once again left with nothing but the sound of your fan blowing cool air on you to stop your fever spiking too high. It wasn’t long before your cold and cough medication kicked in, and you were out like a light. 
*
You awoke the next morning feeling like there was someone in your house. Ignoring the fact that your fever had gone and your airways felt clearer than they had in the last few days, you stepped out of bed and grabbed your phone from the bedside table. Fully prepared to call the police, you padded silently down the carpeted staircase and peeked into the kitchen. 
What you saw made another sob fall out of your mouth.
Mason was stood by the stove, wearing a United hoodie and track pants, while stirring something in a pot on the hob which you could only guess to be chicken soup. 
‘Mase?!’ He whirled around and grinned.
‘Hey babe!’ You summoned the energy to run over to him and throw your arms around his neck, relishing the contact of your bodies having been apart for nearly two weeks. 
‘What the hell are you doing here? I thought they wanted you to play?’ He kissed your temple and shrugged.
‘But I wanted to be here with you more. It wasn’t easy but I managed to negotiate it off. After our FaceTime last night I couldn’t be apart from you any longer. I couldn’t have you suffering here by yourself while Ben and Reece are in Timbuktu.’ You giggled at the reference to what you’d said the previous night, and hugged him harder, your head finding its usual spot just under his neck. He wrapped you up in his arms and rubbed your back. 
‘I can’t thank you enough, Masey, it means the world.’ You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.
‘It’s the least I can do for my princess.’ And in that moment, with you curled up against his chest while he stirred chunks of chicken and vegetables in a thick broth, breathing in his glorious scent that could only the scent of home, you had absolutely no doubt in your mind that you really had found your Prince Charming. 
118 notes · View notes
Note
Pregnancy scare with Tan? 🫢
im so not okay bc I love stuff like this😮‍💨 thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌
I haven’t used a tan gif in so long omg!! this makes it fun
BROWN PAPER BAG.
tangerine x fem!reader — angst
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word count. 895
warnings. made it angsty and a little dramatic bc i love prego scare fics. the ending is meant to be up in the air, so you can imagine the results you want.
Late periods were often nothing to worry about, your underwear almost always spotting with blood mere hours after your little panics. Though, this time, it felt different. Those few hours never rolled around, and they quickly began to turn into days - and with every day that passed, your head filled with more dread.
You didn't want to worry Tangerine with something that could be nothing, so you kept all uneasy thoughts to yourself - letting yourself wallow in the feeling alone. But you were never truly alone, and no matter how hard you pushed him away, he would still be there - patiently waiting for you to let him back in.
He noticed the change in you recently, and every time he tried to question it, all he would get from you in response was a simple, 'it's nothing,' or a 'just tired.' But he's far too stubborn to let that be it. 
You had just returned home from the pharmacy, brown paper bag stashed tightly inside your handbag - keeping it hidden. You place it on the sideboard beside the front door and head to the kitchen to get a drink, filling a glass with water. 
Tangerine makes his way over to you and presses a kiss into your cheek, welcoming you back. "Don't suppose you got me deodorant?" he asks, referring to the little list he gave you before you left.
You hum, smiling at him as you place the glass down, moving across to get a snack from the cupboard. "In my bag," you gesture to the front door.
Before you have a second to realise what you've said, Tangerine has his hand in your bag, his grip tight on the paper bag. When you hear the rustling, you rush over to him and try to pry it from his hands.
He would've left it be, but you were so desperate to stop him that it only made him more sceptical. He holds the bag at a height, extending the other out to you - keeping you at a distance.
"Don't— just," you mutter, reaching for the bag. "Come on, just— please. Give it back."
"No," he shakes his head, voice almost stern. "Do you want to tell me? Or should I save us the trouble and look myself?" he asks, giving you no options.
You shake your head, lips tight to stop them from wobbling. You felt cornered, stuck in a problem you created for yourself. You stand still, containing your attempts to stop him, but when his hand reaches inside the bag, you turn around and leave the room - the atmosphere growing tense for you to want to deal with.
You make your way to your shared room, leaving him in the hallway to connect the dots by himself. You felt mortified for the way it had all just played out, embarrassment creeping in and replacing those feelings of dread. You close the bedroom door when you hear the stairs creak, the familiar footsteps of your lover making his way up. 
He knocks on the door before he opens it. He lingers in the doorway for a beat, watching you fiddle with things on the dresser. 
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks, tone like that of hurt. "That's why you've been so off with me."
You hate keeping him in the lurk, especially about something as big as this —though it still could be nothing— so you decide to stop fighting it. 
"I'm late," you utter, avoiding his focused gaze. "I'm late. And I'm scared for what it means."
He pauses, trying to collect himself and push away his prior wounded feelings - wanting to reassure you, seeing as you needed it more right now. 
"And that's why you bought..." he strings off, referring to your bag of pregnancy tests. 
You sigh softly and pinch the bridge of your nose. "Yeah," you nod, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. "I should've told you," you speak towards the floor - diverting from his attention.
He follows suit and stands in front of you, crouching down to meet your eyeline. "Yeah, you should've," he hums. "But that don't matter right now. How late are you?" he asks, looking over the rectangular box.
"Nearly two weeks," you mumble, sadly smiling at him.
"Two weeks?" he repeats, tone hurt like that time before. "You've been feeling this for two weeks. And you didn't tell me?"
"I wanted to be sure," you shrug, trying to ease the tension. "It's usually nothing to worry about. It's late sometimes, but," you exhale, halting the rest of your sentence.
"But not like this," he finishes your thought. "I really wished you'd told me."
"I know, I'm sorry. I feel awful about it all."
"I wanted to be there for you," he places a hand over your knee, using you for stability as he stands back up. 
He reaches for your hand and helps you stand, his gentle grip leading you towards the bathroom. He stops when he reaches the door and turns to face you - the small white box clutched in his free hand.
"Do you want me to wait out here?" he questions, trying to scope you out.
"No," you reply, finally letting him in. "Can you do it with me?"
He hums, giving your hand a squeeze. "Course."
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von2dutch · 15 hours
Text
Sugar baby | Jey Uso
Part three
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Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.
Pairing: Jey uso X Black Fem reader | word count: 2.1k | warning: smut, toxic behavior , protected sex | 18+ ONLY
Hey you all this is part three to the series if you haven’t read part one and two here they here! Part One | Say the word & Part Two | Same Mistake
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Lastly, Enjoy.
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As the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon inside Jey’s hotel room , a chorus of birds greeted the dawn with a symphony of chirps and songs. The melodic sound filled the air, announcing the arrival of a fresh day full of possibilities.
The calm and tranquil feeling in the bedroom is one of comfort and safety, as if the world is at peace. With Dakota by his side of course.
Joshua slowly opened his eyes to a warm and radiant morning light filtering through the window.
As Jey looked over at Dakota, he saw her sleeping peacefully beside him. He couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in his heart as he watched her snuggled up against his chest, her arms wrapped around him tightly. The moment felt serene, and he took a deep breath, savoring it. He couldn't help but admire Dakota's beauty in that moment, as the soft glow of the moon illuminated her features and added an ethereal quality to the scene. It was a simple yet beautiful moment that he would always cherish.
He gently pulled her close with his arm, and planting soft kisses all over her face and neck, waking her up slowly but lovingly.
Jey had felt horrible about how he treated Dakota especially what he said to her a couple weeks ago when discussing being with her more than just a client.
He initially took in what his brother was saying and realized he loved Dakota not just what she did for him sexually but what she did for him mentally and physically because as much as he was there for her in those needs she was also there in those needs of his. With him being on the road 25/7 it sometimes gets lonely and sad but she always made sure to brighten his day even when she didn’t know she did.
His affection for her was not just a fleeting infatuation. It was a profound feeling that surpassed any previous experience he had ever had. This love penetrated through the depths of his heart and soul, and he had never felt anything like it before. He was completely consumed by her, and she had become the center of his whole universe. In his life, she was the beacon of hope that illuminated his path through even the darkest of times.
She's got him wrapped around her little finger, and he'd do anything to see her smile. He just needed to show her more than tell her and he was going staring today.
“Mmm Josh stop.” Dakota groaned moving her face away to stop the kisses he repeatedly left on her cheeks.
Chuckling he kissed her exposed neck annoying her even more “Ko baby get up I’m bored and I miss you.”
Opening her eyes staring back at his brown precious big eyes she could almlsh Melt into them but at moment all she felt was her love fading away from him because like he said she was just a client. “Josh don’t think cause we had sex last night that every is all dandy and cool cause it’s not.”
Joshua, sighed flustered, sat up abruptly. "Ko, I apologize. What more do you want me to say?" he asked, his tone reflecting a hint of desperation.
Getting out of his grasp she folded her arms looking at him like he was stupid “It’s not about what else I want you to say, I want you to acknowledge what you said.”
“Matter fact I’m done explaining myself cause remember I’m just your client it isn’t nothing else to it so it don’t matter I’m leaving.” Dakota attempted to get out of the bed to grab her clothes and leave but Joshua grabbed her pinning her arms down on the bed hovering over her as his sliver chain dangled in her face he stared in her eyes deeply.
“Dakota, you're more than just a client...I can't be away from you, can't go without seeing your radiant face or hearing your angelic voice. I want to be around you, soak up life with you, and just be beside you. Losing you would kill me. I love you with all of my heart.I don't want to miss a minute without you by my side. I love you Ko.”
“I want you and I’ll prove it by showing you then just telling you.”
That was it. Those words was something she thought she’d never hear but she did. All Dakota could do was stare back into his eyes taking in everything he had just told her. He was in love with her but she was also hesitant to believe maybe he was right he did need to show her.
“Joshua you don’t mean that you’re just telling me that because you want me to get over what you said.” Dakota said being stubborn no matter how much it melted her heart to hear him say those words she just couldn’t believe it.
Laughing to himself softly he knew she would be stubborn and he could handle it he just had to show her how much he meant it “Ko I mean that shit and if it takes me a million hours, years, or months to show you I will. I apologize for I what said I love you and I’ll show you.”
As he hovers above her, his gaze never wavers.He stares down at her with such intensity and passion, as if he owns her.He wants her back in his home, alone, just the two of them for a whole month.
He wants nothing but her all to himself, without any interference or distractions.
“That’s why I want to ask you to come back home with me while I’m off for the whole month just me and you…that’s if you want to mama.” He asked with pleading eyes.
Dakota pondered for a moment, her mind racing with thoughts and doubts. She wanted to believe him, to trust that he was sincere in his words. Could this be his opportunity to prove it? She took a deep breath and looked up at him, searching for any sign of insincerity. When she saw only a warm smile on his face, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. With a smile of her own, she answered, "Yes, I'll go with you."
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Instagram Story • Dakota Valentine
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“It’s so beautiful here.” Dakota covered her eyes from the hard sunlight while she admired the beautiful landscape of Pensacola, Florida. The beautiful trees and water was something that amazed her how beautifully it was.
After a long flight from Atlanta in Jey’s private Jet alone just them two the more they spent alone the more she became to believe he actually meant what he said.
“Here ko.” Jey handed Dakota the keys to his home while he grabbed her luggage from the car his driver sat in. “Go unlock the door and chill I got everything and you better be laying down Frl ko.” He glared at her knowing how much she didn’t listen.
Rolling her eyes she caught the keys walking towards the door she threw the middle finger up at him “You already did.” He shot back smartly.
As she turned the doorknob and stepped inside, she found herself mesmerized by the sheer beauty of his home. Every time he had flown her out to his place when he was off, she was left in awe at the stunning interiors and the breathtaking exteriors. It was as if the first time she had visited his home was replayed in her mind every time she visited.
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Dakota walked towards the refrigerator grabbing a drink of water before she plopped down on his white comforting couch she watched as the sunset rose in more beautifully the water waving softly the trees flowing through the wind she was so caught up into the sight that she didn’t hear Josh calling her name.
“Mama you good?”Jey asked sitting next to Dakota on the couch, gently and lovingly takes her feet into his hands.He removes her blue Dior slides and begins to gently rub and massage her feet, caressing every inch of her soft, smooth skin.
He places a gentle kiss on her foot, sending tingles through her body, before rubbing the other foot. She leans back into his hands and sighs contently as he spoils her with this attention and affection.
With a gentle nod of her head, she replied, "Yes, it's just that this place is so breathtakingly beautiful. It's been quite some time since I last visited, and I almost forgot how much I missed it."
“I know I changed some things around here too, remember that painting you wanted back in September when I took you too that art show? I got it hung up right there for you Ko.” He pointed towards the white painted wall where the panting hung.
“Aww thank you baby.” She blushed cheesing happily resting her head and back against the couch.
The two of them sat there in silence for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, Jey spoke up, his voice soft and gentle, breaking the comfortable stillness that had enveloped them. As he looked into Dakota's eyes, he spoke with a sincerity that could not be denied, “Dakota I meant what I said earlier.”
Sighing she looked back at him “I know but I want you to show me Joshua not tell me.”
“And I will trust me.”
Park West Beach
“Joshua you bet not have me at no damn water park! For me dressing up when I should be sleeping some damn where.” Dakota stressed as he had his hands covering her eyes leading her towards the beach she felt sand at her foot.
“Dakota shut up and be patient.”
“You shut up! You better not throw me in the water cause I feel sand at my feet and we are at the beach sir.”
Huffing Joshua smiled finally being at the location he desired for her he spoke “okay ima count to three and then I’ll uncover your eyes aight?”
“Yes.” Dakota answered softly geeked with anticipation and eager.
“1,2,3.” Removing his hand from her eyes he stood back watching as she took in what was in front of her.
Dakota's face lit up with a wide smile as she gazed at the mesmerizing sight in front of her. She could hardly believe that he had gone to so much trouble just for her. The ambiance was absolutely perfect, with flickering candles casting a warm, inviting glow all around them. Her favorite foods were carefully laid out on the table, tantalizing her senses with their mouth-watering aromas. The comfortable chairs beckoned to her, inviting her to sit down and relax. And all around them, fragrant roses bloomed, their delicate petals bathed in the soft light of the moon, as they sat beside the tranquil waters.
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“J-Joshua you did all this?” She looked back at him with tears filling her eyes that she so desperately wanted to held back.
Smiling he embraced her into a hug leaving a few kisses on her face “Yeah I had Jimmy and trin help me, you like it?” He asked nervously, he was worried that she wouldn’t like it considering he wasn’t much a romantic partner but he tried and he always with over and beyond for Dakota no matter what.
His love ran deep for her that some would say he was infuriated with her.
“Do I love it? Of course!” She jumped into his arms Jey caught her with one arm wrapping her legs around him he held her tightly then two laughing.
“I can’t believe you did this for me.” She gushed once more before he sat her down gently on the circle chair he sat beside her holding her hand.
As she glanced around she couldn’t help but ask what did he do all this for? Was it to apologize? Because if so she wasn’t accepting it from him no matter how beautiful everything was.
“So what is all this for?” She asked knitting her eyebrows together while she looked into his eyes waiting for an answer.
“Well that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He took her hand into his moving closer to Dakota he stared directly into her eyes watching as she became nervously because she was biting her lip which he took notice of a few months back of when she was nervous.
“I know what I said a few weeks ago hurt you Ko and I apologize but not only that but I wanted to confess my love for you Dakota.” Jey left a few kisses on her Hand before taking a deep breath.
Jey's eyes burn with the passionate fire and desire he's had for Dakota for so long. He wants to express his love for her with a burning intensity, wants to claim her as his, and make her his in every way possible. It's not just an infatuation anymore, it's something so much more than that.He's obsessed, addicted, and obsessed with her.
As he watches her, he's hit in the gut with the depth of his feelings.It feels like a burning hot flame that's raging within him and he can't deny or stop. He's consumed by his love for her, intoxicated by her beauty and presence.
“I love you with every breath I take, with every beat of my heart", I couldn’t imagine life with you Ko and no matter how stubborn you are I’ll show you I mean it.” he confesses.
Jey holds her hands. He looks at her with pure adoration and devotion, his feelings so deep and his love so real.
"Dakota Kamire Valentine..." he whispers, taking a moment to take in her whole beauty and being.
He takes in a deep breath and continues. "Will you be my girlfriend? My partner in life? My soulmate?"
He stares deeply into her eyes, waiting for her answer, his heart pounding and aching.
Dakota's eyes widened in surprise as she gazed back at him, feeling a mix of emotions bubbling up inside her. She tried to avoid looking directly at him, scanning the surroundings instead, to control her tears. It was hard to believe that Jey Uso, the Joshua she had grown to know so well, was confessing his feelings for her on a picturesque beach, with just the two of them as witnesses. The beauty of the moment was almost too much to handle.
He wanted her and only her and he was going to show he meant it.
“Y-yes I’ll be your girlfriend Josh.” She stuttered tears leaving her eyes Jey embraced her into a hug before wiping her tears away she kissed him deeply.
“I can’t believe your silly ass just asked me to be your girlfriend.” Dakota chuckled wiping away her tears pushing at his chest playfully while smiling at him shyly.
“Yeah it took me a while but I had too I couldn’t stand you possibly being with someone else other than me Ko, I love you.”
"Josh, why did it take you so long to come clean about this? Was it because you were hoping I'd forgive you for what you said, or was it because you saw me at the club with another man and felt guilty? I need to know the truth, Josh," she said, her arms folded as she fixed him with a curious gaze.
“To be honest… It was because of what my brother said.” He spoke “I had realized that I fell in love with you ko and I was scared to admit it because of past experiences as far as my divorce I had a year ago I didn’t want to go through another heart ache if we never worked out Dakota with me being on the road I feared you’ll fall out of love with me too and find someone else new.”
“I feared that maybe you didn’t want this as much or I wasn’t enough but most importantly my one fears made me push back my feelings for you but no matter how hard I tried I always seemed to fall for you deeper and deeper.”
"You probably think I’m bullshiting, but there is truth to these words..You are the air in my lungs, the light in my eye, the smile on my face. You are everything to me, and without you...I feel lost and like a ghost of who I used to be.”
“Your gaze upon me is simply enchanting, it's like a magnet pulling me closer to you. Your mere presence ignites a flame of passion inside me, and I feel alive in your arms. The warmth of your touch sends shivers down my spine, and it's a sensation I never want to lose. You're the missing piece of my puzzle, the one who completes me in every way. I can't imagine my life without you; you're my every breath, my lifeline, and my everything. I love you more than words can express, Ko.”
Dakota couldn’t even spare a word to him after hearing him confess his love for her. She was stunned she couldn’t believe it that the one thing she wanted was happening before her eyes.
She love him just as much as he loved her.
“Aww Josh you gon make me cry…I hate you.” She said playfully before she wiped her tears falling from her eyes. She was in such awe.
“Don’t cry ma I just want to tell you how much I love you uce and I meant it.” Jey kissed her, her lips so soft and so sweet. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close against his chest, the heat of their bodies making them close and intimate. He touches her body slightly, caressing the curves of her hip before letting his hand rest on her ass. He stares at her with desire, wanting to never stop touching her.
Dakota's eyes sparkled with love as she gazed at Joshua. "I love you, Joshua," she whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. "There's nothing else in this world that I want more than this moment with you." As she spoke, she reached up to caress his face, her fingertips gently tracing the contours of his beard. The touch was soft and delicate, but it conveyed a deep sense of affection and intimacy. Joshua felt a surge of emotion as he looked into her eyes, knowing that he was the luckiest person in the world to have her by his side.
While the two sat and watched the waves of the water flow by quietly Josh spoke “I got something for you.” He said before grabbing a gift from the side of him it was red roses and a jar full of poems of letters that he wrote confessions of his love for her.
“Since you said you liked hand written notes, I decided to do this , here’s 365 hand written notes.”
“Jey you didn’t.” She smiled grabbing the jar opening it she read a few notes in complete awe she couldn’t wait to tell Jasmine she was going to flip about this.
She chuckled softly, unable to contain her surprise as she looked at him. 'You really do have a memory like a steel trap,' she murmured, a hint of admiration in her voice. 'I said that months ago, and yet you remember it like it was just yesterday.' Her laughter was infectious as she leaned in to kiss him, grateful for his thoughtful nature.
“But I did and I wanted to it’s always the littlest things that matter and this is one of them baby.”
Jey gazed at Dakota with a look of compassion and sincerity, and spoke in a gentle tone, "I want to take away any pain that you have ever experienced, Ko. I want to help you heal and feel better."
“What if I told you that you did.” She admitted.
“You Frl ko?”
“Yes I’m Frl, when my mom passed you were there for me every step of the way Jey. With you being on the road and busy 24/7 you still made time for me, you still made sure I was okay no matter how many miles away you were from me it always felt like you were there with me. You made me feel whole again through those dark times and I appreciate and will always love you for that.” She stared at him watching him smile brightly hearing those words.
Jey looked at her, an adoration in his eyes as he stares.
"You deserve all the happiness in the world.”
His eyes are soft and tender, yet there is a desire in them.
"I only want you to be happy, Dakota, even if you'd be happier with someone else."
They both were in love and there wasn’t anything getting in the way of it.
Lovers till the end of time .
To be continued…
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Hey my baby dolls I hope you all enjoyed this lovely chapter! I told y’all he would do better but next chapter will be not so great that’s all ima say na!
Happy Mother’s Day as well hope you all are having an amazing Sunday with your families.
Till next time. Love you all for tuning in🎀
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kangnina · 2 days
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Rich!Jungwon 7
Jungwon Masterlist
Now playing - Desire by ATEEZ; It's You by ATEEZ
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 Everyone was shocked by the sudden death of Jungwon’s father, including you. Although Jungwon didn’t say it, you know he regrets not having the opportunity to repair the rift between them. The funeral was suspiciously fast, small and private for a world renowned entrepreneur. But you kept that opinion to yourself, as it was already hard enough on Jungwon. He wasn’t given the time to properly mourn before he was catapulted into complete ownership of Yang International. Your mother-in-law tried her best to guide Jungwon based on what she knew about YI. Even she wasn’t prepared for how overwhelming her late husband’s job would be for her college aged son. There was little to nothing you could do to help. You offered words of encouragement. Yet ultimately, you decided to stay out of the way until the dust settled. Jungwon would be gone before you wake up and he’d come home after you were asleep. He often left gifts so that you’d know you were always on his mind. He would text you when he had a moment to breathe. But of course, you missed him. You missed how much simpler things were before you got married.
“Wow, I never thought I’d be allowed to set foot back in here. Or if I ever did, I thought I’d get a bullet in my ass,” Sunoo says, unpacking his grocery bags. “Geez, Sunoo. We’re not the mafia,” you laugh. You were bored and lonely so you called him over for dinner. “Are you sure?” He whispers to you after glancing over at Franklin who is on the phone, clearly giving someone a report of what you’re currently up to. You shrug. At this point, you don’t care. For weeks, your husband has been non-existent and you still don’t have a clue who is supposedly out to get you. Having the only friend you have left come over for dinner makes life not suck so much right now. Sunoo’s visit lifted your spirits for a few hours and you agreed to make it a regular weekly event.
But when night comes, you are in your giant bed, staring at the ceiling. ALONE, yet again. You wouldn’t have even known Jungwon came home except for the fact that he yelled your name like a madman when he walked through the front door just after midnight. It scared the shit out of you. Franklin helped him up the stairs. You meet them at the landing, apologizing to Franklin as you take a hold of him and usher him into your bedroom. You close the door and remove your robe. Jungwon falls back onto the bed, his face flushed. Ears red. Clearly drunk. As you try to pull off his shoes and socks, he rambles on about an ungrateful client he had to wine and dine to keep happy. You reach up to unbuckle his pants and he playfully growls, pulling you on top of him. “All work and no play! I miss my beautiful wife!” He’s grabbing your ass and kissing you as you try to get up and finish preparing him for bed. “Kiss me! I miss you. Don’t you still love me, Jagiya?” he whines, looking at you with glossy eyes. “Yes, I love you Jungwon,” you say softly, giving him a quick kiss to reassure him. His phone rings in his pants pocket. He grumbles while fumbling for it. Once he yanks it out, he yeets it somewhere in the room where it lands with a loud thud and then silence. “GOOD! I hope it’s broken. I fuckin' hate that thing. It never stops ringing. I can’t even take a fuckin' piss in peace,” he says, running his hands over his face. He is in rare form and you can’t help but laugh at his unfiltered state. Hearing your laughter, Jungwon smiles at you, once again grabbing your ass and grinding up against you. His voice is soft, almost a whisper: “Please Jagiya. I miss you so much. Your laugh. Your kisses. Your body. Please. Let me fuck you baby. Please.”
It’s been a while since you’ve heard him speak to you like this. Every time he does it – you’re immediately down bad. You know he’s drunk but it couldn’t hurt if he wants it just as badly as you do. You kiss him gently but he’s urgent and desperate. His wine flavored tongue eagerly plays with yours as you unbuckle his pants and reach into his briefs to stroke him. Jungwon closes his eyes and moans against your lips. He’s pent up and so are you. You both know it. When you pull away to remove your nightie and underwear, he clumsily pulls off his dress shirt over his head. He’s so cute fumbling with his pants. You giggle and he smiles. Dimples deep because it’s music to his ears. You help him pull off his underwear before climbing back on top of him, grinding your pussy against his hard cock making him moan as he sucks on your nipples. He gives one a gentle bite making you flinch and mewl. “Don’t tease me, Jagiya. I need to fuck you,” he grabs his cock and presses into you, lifting his hips. You both groan in unison as you sink deeper. You rest your hands on his pecs, forearms on his abs as you lift your hips up and down, riding him slowly. You love the feel of every inch in and out. You want to savor it and make love. But Jungwon is impatient and needy. He wants to hear you scream his name while he makes you lose your goddamn mind. He grabs your ass with both hands and puts his feet on the bed, bending his knees. Lifting his hips to fuck up into you. “Oh fuck. Fuck. FUCK.” The angle is so perfect it has you clinging to his shoulders, digging your nails into his hot flesh. Vibrating, on the verge of cumming in a few thrusts. He grins, watching you collapse on to him, your body shaking as your cream on his cock. Jungwon rubs small circles on your back as you catch your breath. “I love you,” you kiss him as you start to roll your hips again, still clenching around his thickness. “Mmm, I love my greedy little Jaigya,” he chuckles. You run your fingers up his neck and into his hair. “So greedy,” you look into his eyes as you rock your hips faster. “Ooh, baby I’m close,” he says, cock twitching and filling you up within a matter of seconds. You feel his abs tense beneath you as his pretty eyes squeeze shut but you keep going. “Mmm baby. Please.” he says, biting his lip. Your fingers grip a little tighter in his hair. You clench around his softening cock. “Jagiya, ah ah ah,” he hisses from the overstimulation. Jungwon opens his eyes, brows furrowed with an intense gaze burning into you as he smacks your ass, grabbing it hard, to hold you still. “Don’t be a bad girl.” You kiss him softly, whispering, “It’s been so long. I just want every single drop of you, Wonie.”
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@nyfwyeonjun @maymarrylhs @nyxtwixx  @ilabjungwon @enha-ism @belowbun @mydearestwonnie @woniesprincess04 @esiromi @crispysharkwizard @snoopypupp @moonlightndaydreams @daydreams-after-dark  @wildflowermooon @emi-en
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ghostboneswrites2 · 3 days
Text
A Mess - Volume 2
Part 3
Summary: How the Savior war and the loss of Rick affected your relationship with Daryl.
Warnings: profanity, loss, spoilers, character deaths, smut
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Chapter List
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Note: man, one of the teasers I pulled from this chapter sparked some interest 😅
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Well, @thesadcatt0, prepare for ANSWERS.
Anyways, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy ❤️
all banners credited on the masterlist!
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        The lineup may have well been the worst day of your life. Two of your friends gone, and your lover taken against his will right in front of you. 
        The days without him we’re almost as bad as the day he was taken. You barely ate, never slept. You constantly found yourself crying in your shared bed, sniffing his pillow in place of him. It seemed so cruel to lose two loves in one lifetime.
        You had agreed to go to Hilltop with Rick and some others. You didn’t really know why you were going or what the plan was. You were just desperate to get out of Alexandria for a while. And, you wanted to see Maggie. You hadn’t seen her since the lineup, and she was pretty sick back then.
        You gave Maggie a big hug when you saw her, but before you could really catch up, the gates opened again and a loud engine echoed within the walls. Through the dust you could just barely make out Daryl and Jesus riding in on a motorcycle. 
        Daryl had barely stood up off the bike before you tackled him to the ground.
        “You’re okay.” You cried into the nape of his neck. He stiffened at the sudden human contact after days in isolation, but he relaxed as his arms snaked around you and held you tight against him. 
        “Yeah. I am.” He whispered into your hair, reminding not only you that he was okay but also himself. It had been a long few days at the Sanctuary, but now he knew things about them, and he had to report to Rick. They had to fight back. “C’mon.” He said softly as he tried to sit himself up off the ground. You rolled off him and stood up with him, gripping his hand tightly as he walked over to Rick to hug him. 
        That reunion was probably the highlight of the war with the Saviors. After that, there was nothing but more violence and death. You had begun to believe you were cursed. It seemed like you managed to end up with some kind of injury every time you had to fight. 
        When the final battle with the Saviors was over, you were left with a broken arm and a concussion. While your arm would take quite a while to heal, your head was fine the next day. The people that really needed healing were Maggie and Daryl. They both wanted Negan dead, and neither of them could let it go. But, Rick was unmoving on his decision to keep Negan alive as an example of what the communities all could have been. He was loyal to Carl’s vision, even at the detriment of those who had a score to settle with Negan.
        The inability to cope with Negan’s life being spared caused a bit of a rift between you and Daryl. You’d followed him to the Sanctuary for the short time he was in charge there. He hated being there, and he didn’t even really want you there in the first place. A lot of the Saviors were just people getting by, but a lot of them were also animals. He hated the way some of the men would check you out and lick their crusty lips when you walked past. It made him sick to his stomach to think what they’d do to you if they had a chance.
        The only time either of you felt any semblance of happiness at the Sanctuary was when you were both in bed.
        The frustrations of the work would often leave Daryl tense, and he’d take those pent up frustrations out on you in bed. The sex got a lot rougher in those days. 
        He’d turn you over so you were facing away from him. He felt too ashamed of himself to look at you, or let you see him. He was ashamed of the way he had failed people over time. He failed to get Beth out of that hospital, he failed Glenn when he threw that lunch that got him killed, he failed Maggie when he couldn’t avenge Glenn, he failed Rick every day he woke up to lead the people he hated, and he failed you every time you reached for his hand and he flinched away. 
        He’d grip the back of your neck with his thick hand. His cock would slam into you with so much force it knocked guttural sounds from within you. Your fingers would dig into the sheets when the bruising force of his thrusts got a little out of hand. 
        His mind would always be elsewhere. You’d rarely reach your climax, either of you. You’d both go to bed unsatisfied and you’d be sore the next day. Still, you were close to each other, intimate in privacy, and that was as good as it was going to get for the time being, so you both tried to enjoy it as much as you could. 
        When Daryl stepped down at the Sanctuary and Carol took over, you left with him to help work on the bridge. With the Saviors not always working well with others, things could get pretty hectic. Fights would break out, and often Daryl would be an aggressor. It was hot and sticky and bugs were everywhere all the time. The tent you shared was cramped and the nights were restless and uncomfortable. You couldn’t even have violent therapy sex without others listening in. There seemed to be no end to the suffering. Still, you remained by his side, no matter what.
        You stayed with him even when Rick blew up the bridge, when Daryl retired to the forest for six years. You’d often visit Hilltop or Alexandria to see old friends, but you stayed out there in that tent with him. Things were okay. He had become a bit softer, even in bed, but still he was withdrawn. You ate most of your meals in silence.
        Days dragged a lot of the time. When you got so bored you couldn’t stand it, you’d just take another trip to visit Maggie or Michonne and spend a few days away. He didn’t seem to mind, nor did he seem to worry about you taking care of yourself without him, so no harm done, you figured.
        One day you came home to see he had a dog. A dog, named Dog, apparently. 
        “Where’d you find him?” You asked as you patted and loved on the furry thing. 
        “Just out here.” He shrugged. He was holding something back, but you didn’t pry. You’d find out what it was soon enough, when you put the few tracking tips he taught you to good use, and tracked him on one of his hunts to find him at an old cabin. Another woman sat on the porch with him, long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder. 
        She noticed you as soon as you noticed her. She stood quickly, shotgun cocked and ready, barrel pointed right at you. You disregarded her completely, eyes trained on Daryl, who you didn’t think had any business at another woman’s house. 
        Dog stood pointedly at her side, growling and snarling at you. You realized he was her dog.
        Without a word, you just nodded, and stormed back to your camp. 
        By the time Daryl caught up, you were haphazardly throwing anything that belonged to you in your bag and rummaging around the campsite. 
        “(Y/N)—“
        “Don’t.” You cut him off.
        “It wasn’t—“
        “Wasn’t what?” You snapped, turning to face him, eyes blazing. “Wasn’t what it looked like? Yeah, right. Heard that one before.”
        Your body was trembling with rage. Considering the events that led to your relationship with him in the first place, you were infuriated that he’d be doing the same thing to you as your sleaze bag ex. We’re you eternally cursed to choose unfaithful men? 
        “No. It wasn’t.” He pleaded. You glanced down at Dog who sat idly by his side, tail wagging. 
        “Really? Cause I’ve never known a woman to loan anyone her dog without a good reason.” You glared. 
        “She didn’t. Dog found me. I followed him. That’s how I met her.”
        “Oh, cute. It’ll be a real nice story for your grandkids.” You rolled your eyes as you zipped up your bag and threw it over your shoulder. 
        “(Y/N) will ya just stop?!” 
        “No!” You shouted, throwing your hands up with frustration. “No, I won’t stop! If there’s anything you should know by now, it’s that I’m nobody’s fucking side piece.” 
        “It ain’t like that! If ya’d just stop and listen!”
        He pleaded with you as he stalked behind you, slapping stray limbs out of his face as he dodged through trees to keep up your pace. He found that he, too, was shaking. He felt so much anxiety in that moment — the possibility of losing you, especially over something so stupid — it was tearing him apart. He found himself blinking away tears as you tried to speed away from him. But, as he blinked them back, the pressure in his throat and chest just seemed to push more out. He was terrified. He couldn’t let you walk away. 
        When he caught up, he reached out and gripped your arm, pulling you back. You spun around and looked right through him, eyes wide and full of your own tears.
        “(Y/N), please. Just stop and listen.” He breathed. 
        “You have thirty seconds.” 
        “It wasn’t nothin’ like that, okay? I swear. Her dog follows me around. I bring ‘im home to her sometimes. We talk a little. That’s it.” He explained. 
        “Why don’t you just talk to me?” You asked quietly. You had a point. You two spent the majority of your time in silence, to the point where you’d leave him for days just to go have a real conversation with someone. You always came home, though, because you’d rather suffer in silence then be away for too long.
        “I just—“ He took a breath to collect his thoughts. “She don’t know about none of it, ya know? I just.. I don’t look at her and see somebody else I let down.”
        “Is that what you see when you look at me?”
        “No.” He shook his head. His gums were raw from how hard he’d been chewing at them. “I see somebody I’m afraid o’ lettin’ down.”
        “You never let anyone down, Daryl.” You said harshly. “And you’d know that if you’d fucking come talk to our family once in a while. I’m tired of telling them you’re doing fine, even if you won’t crawl out of your fucking hole and go see anyone.”
          “I just..” His lip quivered a little as he looked down at you. He hated that feeling. His fists bunched up at his sides, legs stiff, boots glued in place. He felt so awkward and vulnerable when he tried to be open with anyone. Especially you. All he wanted was to be someone you relied on, someone you felt safe with. Every time he opened up, he felt like anything but that. “I’m sorry.” 
        His voice cracked as he uttered the apology. You faltered a little at the sight of him, but you stood firm. 
        “Well, sorry ain’t gonna cut it this time. I need you to prove it. With actions.”
        “Like what?” He asked eagerly.
         “Like talking to me, for starters. Have a fucking conversation with me. Talk to me while we eat dinner. Touch me. Act like you want anything to do with me.” You spat. While his voice had softened the moment you gave him a chance to explain himself, your tongue was still sharp and jagged. All these things you had thought and felt and bottled up for six years were finally out on the table. 
        “Okay.” He nodded. “I will.”
        You glared at him. In all your experience with men, it had never been so easy to get the changes you’d asked for.
          “And…” You thought hard. “Sex. Like, good sex. I haven’t busted a nut in like six years.” 
        His lips curled a little. He’d almost forgotten how blunt you could be, given the chance to speak your mind. You crossed your arms.
        “Okay.” He nodded again. “So what first?”
        You cocked an eyebrow at that. It was actually a good question. 
➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶
        The bark of the tree scraped at your back as you gripped onto his shoulders. Lewd sounds filled the forest around you has he pumped his length in and out of you. You moaned and gasped, enjoying the familiarity of such intimate sex. It had been a long time since it felt that way. 
        Still, you weren’t reacting the way you used to, and he took notice. He wasn’t building you up the way he should have been by now.
        He slowed his pace down and broke the ongoing kiss to ask you; “What’s wrong?”
        “What? Nothing.” You panted impatiently, not understanding his sudden hesitance.
        “Somethin’s up.” He pressed.
        “I was starting to get close.” You insisted.
        “Nah ya weren’t.” He pointed out. “Hang on.”
         He hooked his hands under your thighs and dripped down to his knees, holding your legs up above his shoulders as his mouth found your mound. 
        You sucked in a breath of air at the sensation of his tongue tracing delicate circles around your clit. “Oh.” You breathed. “Shit.”
        He hummed against you, the gentle vibration making you twitch.
        Your nails dug into the tree behind you as you rocked against his mouth, relaxing your weight into the trunk as he held you up against it. 
        “Fuck.” You whined as your clit became more sensitive to his gentle laps. He sucked at your clit and fucked you with his tongue for a while, before he brought his attention back to your clit again and focused intensely on that sweet spot. 
        Soon your legs started to shake and your body began to buzz. The feeling washed over you quickly. A loud moan pushed past your lips as you came, writhing in his grip against the tree until you were twitching and jerking away from him. 
         With your orgasm finally out of the way, he was back on his feet, slapping into you, until his own high reached a climax and he was pumping you full of his cum. 
        When you recovered enough to pull your clothes back on and think a full, coherent thought, you realized something. 
        “Hey Daryl?” You asked as he buttoned up his jeans and adjusted his poncho.
        “Yeah?”
        “You didn’t pull out.” 
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tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix
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laurasblogs-stuff · 3 days
Text
TOLERATE IT
(Peeta’s version)
In loving memory of this song being removed from The Eras Tour set list, I'm publishing this little thing I just finished to write. It is technically set after the 74th Hunger Games and during the victory tour, and from Peeta's point of view. Let me know what you think about it, be kind because it's the first time that i write something not in my first language :)
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
I sit and watch you reading with your head low
We’re in the living room.
I don’t even know why I came here, I just wanted to bring your family bread, but I should have said no when Prim asked me to stay for dinner.
It isn’t right to have dinner with your family and forcing you to see me when you don’t have to.
Well, I guess it won’t be a problem, you barely lifted your head when I walked in.
You looked at me behind the book you’re pretending to read for half a second, you couldn’t manage to hold the eye contact even while mumbling ‘hi’.
Now I’m sitting on the opposite side of the couch; you’re just staring at the book in your hands and it’s so obvious that you would want to be anywhere but here right now.
I feel like throwing up.
I should have said no.
I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed
I take in a breath so violently that it seems like I was drowning.
I was, in my dream at least. I was underwater, I couldn’t breathe or speak, but the water was so clear that I could see you being mauled by mutts near the lake in the arena. I was trying to scream so hard, to distract them from you, but nothing came out.
I try to not let the tears that are flooding my eyes fall, attempt to adjust my respiration but managing to take just some shaky pathetic breaths.
I feel a weight on my chest: looking down I realize that is your head.
You’re sleeping so peacefully, and I realize you didn’t wake up this night yet.
The thought that I can help you do that makes me want to cry.
Instead, I try to focus on your steady breaths, on your hand that is slowly and involuntarily caressing my rib and on the little smile that is forming on your face.
I sit and watch you
And notice everything you do or don't do
You're so much older and wiser and I
We’re in district three. The last stop at the Capitol is getting closer and tonight you’ve barely eaten anything. I’m watching you dissecting your duck, without even faking to stab it with the fork. Considering that you would never waste food, it is very concerning.
I tentatively tap your knee, thinking I can comfort you, but you shove my hand away.
A fat man with green hair engages me in a conversation and I try to contain my tears while he’s going on about how cute we are together.
Half an hour later, I’m standing in a corner with some red wine in my right hand when I feel a tentative touch on my left wrist.
“Can we sneak out?”
I should say no, I should be mad at you for shutting me out earlier.
I’m resolute to do so, but then I look into your eyes and see pure desperation.
I’m taking too much time to answer, you’ve noticed I’m struggling, and I can see that your bottom lip is starting to tremble, even if slightly.
You’re slowly retracting your hand from my wrist and I really should say no, because I know what sneaking out means with you.
Instead, I grab your hand and lead you away from the crowd.
I wait by the door like I'm just a kid
I feel so stupid waiting here. You always make me wait, don’t you?
Maybe it’s because you know that you will always find me right here.
I know that tonight wasn’t easy for you, we’re just one day away from the Capitol and I shouldn’t blame you for how you’re treating me.
I take a glance at my watch and notice it’s almost midnight.
I feel like that time I was five, maybe four, waiting outside my mother’s room to give her a drawing. I hoped that would make her forgive me for not being able to carry the pans. I remember standing there for hours, with the piece of paper in my right hand and a burning cheek; she never opened the door.
Just as I’m starting to feel my eyes burning, probably because of the lack of sleep, I can hear your footsteps approaching the door.
Use my best colors for your portrait
I know you hate them.
I saw that in your eyes when I showed you my paintings.
I know it was mostly because they reminded you of the arena and your nightmares, but I can say almost for sure that you were not happy about the fact that you were in almost all of them.
I’m perfectly aware that you would hate what I’m working on right now, and I promised myself to never let you see it.
But I can’t help searching for the best colors to use for your hair, trying to imagine what they would look like outside, in the sun.
What colors your eyes would have if you smiled at me as if you really meant it.
Lay the table with the fancy shit
And watch you tolerate it
I’m really trying to make this dinner pleasant for you, I really am.
I know that you hate all of this: this enormous table, the stupid pink cloth on top of it, the unnecessary gold cutlery.
You’re clenching your fist around the knife while some lady with blue hair is explaining to me how they make jewelry here, and I’m listening along just so she won’t bother you.
She’s quite old, and she’s insistent while making me feel her necklace that is sitting just a little too low on her exposed cleavage.
I’m assuming that you’re not even aware of what’s happening when you let the gleaming knife drop on the plate.
The blue haired woman immediately drops my hand while directing her stunned look towards the source of disturbance, but you’re already standing up and dragging me with you on the dancefloor.
While we’re swinging on some soft notes, I brush your hair to the side and put my mouth close to your ear.
“What was that earlier? If you wanted to dance, you could just go.”
My tone is playful, but your expression isn’t when you look up at me. It’s clear that you’re hesitant about what to say, and your cheeks start to veer toward a light red while your brain is searching for the right words to use.
I begin to think that it decided to use no words at all, when I feel your hand slightly brushing my hair before answering me.
“I wanted you just for me.”
I feel the words tickle my neck, and they seem to give me a little more air to breath.
You look up at me just for a millisecond before diverting your eyes again.
“At least for a little while.”
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waynes-multiverse · 2 days
Text
Plastic Hearts – Part 25
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Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader
Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.
Chapter Warnings: +18, a tinge of angst, FLUFF
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: I'm not sad... 🥲 Honestly, I don't have words beyond gratitude and cliché goodbyes, so let's end this journey together 🤍
<< 24 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
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25. Dare
“Ugh, I can’t believe you convinced everyone to come out here,” Jo groans and raises her flat palm to her brows, shielding her eyes from the scalding desert sun. “What the fuck is wrong with Palm Springs, huh?”
“C’mon, we’ve always wanted to go to Joshua Tree together since we moved to LA. This is like the perfect time,” Y/N argues cheerfully and nudges her friend with her elbow. “Look! It’s so peaceful.”
“There’s a dead carcass over there. Looks like a symbol of my marriage,” Jo deadpans.
Y/N purses her lips before compelling another positive smile to her face. “We can get rid of that. The girls really needed this after the whole Crowley debacle.”
The group left straight after the network meeting in Dean’s office this morning, which didn’t go as planned, to say the least. While several executives were surely interested, Crowley and H-ELLTV put an abrupt end to it. Apparently, they sold their fucking souls by signing a contract with the devil. Crowley’s words still rang in her ears on repeat.
“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, ladies, but H-ELLTV owns your characters, which means you can’t sell them to another network. You all signed a contract and made a deal. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, fucking asshole…” Jo huffs her agreement but then throws her friend a suspicious sideways look. “What’s up with you, though? Why are you so chipper and cheerful like a fucking Disney princess? I thought you of all people would be fucking depressed and devastated about the stupid show ending.”
Y/N shrugs. “I am. I’m just trying to make the best of our last weekend together. Can’t I be happy?”
“Fuck no.” Jo shakes her head. “Something’s up with you. Usually, when you’re like this, it’s overcompensation ‘cause you’ve fucked something up. If I were still married, I’d think you’ve fucked my husband all over again. So, what did you do?”
Y/N shrugs once more and keeps her eyes trained on the sprawling desert landscape in front of her. “Nothing.”
“Dean also was a bigger asshole than usual this morning. So, I’m asking again, what shit did you fuck up now?”
“Nothing, okay? Dean’s always an asshole,” Y/N deflects defensively. Although, even she has to admit – those were some spectacularly icy green eyes this morning. Not that he ever looked directly at her or spoke with her even once. She probably would’ve turned to stone if he did.
“Fine, don’t tell. God knows I don’t fucking care,” Jo says indifferently and joins the other women as they set up their tents on the campground.
Y/N lets out a small sigh as she stares at the bluest sky she’s ever seen while the hot desert sun beams down on her. She watches the girls for a while, her heart slightly cracking at the thought this might be the last time they all hang out together. This year has been the best one she’s ever had.
But then, her heart stings even more when she thinks about the one person who isn’t here, wondering what he’s doing right now. If anything, she owes it all to him.
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Dean nurses his beer with a sigh, his green eyes barely paying attention to the half-naked girl who’s winding herself up and down a silver pole in front of him. This used to bring him joy – day-drinking at a strip club and watching tits bounce. But now all he thinks about is how that girl looks nothing like Y/N. None of them do.
“Hey, son. Startin’ early today,” Bobby notes with a chuckle as he sits down next to him.
“Yeah, they canceled the show.” And while that’s certainly true, it’s not the reason why Dean’s sulking at a titty bar.
“Too damn bad. I loved the show!” Bobby tells him enthusiastically. “It was insane. Good insane. It had everything – comedy, drama, heartache, tits, violence, a fucking wedding? There’s something for everyone there.”
“Well, uh, thanks, Bobby. Really appreciate it,” Dean tells him politely. He likes the guy, but he’s not in the mood for chitchat. He’s barely in the mood for naked women, for crying out loud. This is a deep fucking depression.
There are only two promises he’s made to himself: One, he won’t slump like he did after his last divorce. There will be no excessive drinking, which leads to excessively pathetic crying, which leads to a myriad of bad choices out of sheer desperation. Remember that awful dating videotape he made? Yes, there will be no more of that. And then there’s of course two, no drugs – no matter how much he tells himself he wants or fucking needs them. A tiny dot of hope seems to be still dormant in his plastic heart, reminding him that she might come back, and he doesn’t want to risk disappointing her once she does.
Dean has worked fucking hard to be the best version he can be – a version she doesn’t seem to give a shit about. But even he has to admit: He likes himself a lot better now, so he refuses to turn back to old comforts, albeit it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.
“You guys interested in doing a floor show?”
Bobby’s words pull him from his reverie. Dean arches a brow at him, straightening a bit in his seat. “What? Here?”
Bobby rolls his eyes. “No, idjit. My wife Ellen has some stakes in a club on the Vegas Strip. She manages the hotel there, too. They’re looking for a new headliner. Just do the exact same show, night after night, 300 miles east. Vegas is where the money is. Headliners make at least 25 grand a week. You think that gym is big? We have to fill 1,100 seats.”
Dean stumps and blinks at the old man a bit baffled. “Well, uh… I’ll think about it. Talk to my partner, the girls…”
Bobby smiles and pats his shoulder as he gets up. “You do that. I’ll call you tomorrow. Now, how about a lap dance? On the house. Can pick any girl that fancies your heartache. You ain’t foolin’ an old man like me.”
Dean chuckles. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks. Think I’m gonna head home and drink myself into a coma there.”
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“It’s getting dark soon. How much longer?” Jo’s brown eyes dart to Y/N as she drags her feet over a rocky path. The sun stings less than it did when they started their little hike, but her skin feels perfectly tanned by now and the water is running low.
“Uh, I think it’s supposed to be just up ahead that hill,” Y/N muses and swirls her head around the formation of rocks that all look the same, squinting her eyes into the distance.
Jo sighs, and her stare intensifies. “You’ve been saying that for over an hour. Are we lost?”
“Noooo…” Y/N doesn’t sound convincing and surely doesn’t fool Jo with her reply.
“Alright, gimme the map.”
“I don’t have the map. I gave it to Meg.”
Jo groans and rolls her eyes, throwing her arms up in exasperation.
“What? Meg’s the trail leader. Trail leader gets the map,” Y/N defends her faux pas with reason.
“Great! So we’re fucking lost in the desert,” the blonde huffs.
Y/N chuckles lightly, mostly out of uncomfortableness and panic she tries to hide behind it. “No, there’s a trail marker right over there,” she says, pointing to a pile of rocks. “That looks manmade.”
Jo quirks her brow. “You mean like that pile of rocks? Or that one over there?”
Y/N follows her friend’s gaze, only to realize that there are lots of piles of rock that all look too fucking similar. She purses her lips and scratches her head before resting her arms on her squared-off hips. “I think we’re lost.”
“Yeah.” With an exhaustive sigh, Jo plops down on another pile of rocks and watches as the orange sun dips behind the horizon, shadows of blue slowly crawling across the desert floor and swallowing the light.
Y/N clumsily lowers herself down next to the blonde. Her leg hurts like a bitch, and the desert sand that has wound its way into her cast itches a good deal. Her hands and arms hurt as well from clinging to her crutches all afternoon. Maybe Dean was right, and this was a bad idea, after all. Why does he always have to be fucking right about everything? How can one person be so annoying and frustrating all at once?
“Well, you finally get your wish,” Jo deadpans. “We’re gonna die together.”
“I’m sorry,” Y/N says ruefully and looks at the first stars appearing in the night sky. “Maybe the stars will guide us home.”
Jo just looks at her, unamused and unsurprised. “You’ve never been camping, have you?”
Y/N twitches her shoulders apologetically. “It was only supposed to be a three-mile moderate beginner’s trail to a beautiful vista. It’s what the guidebook said.”
Jo shakes her head and blows a raspberry, hugging her knees. “Joanna Wesson, 27, found dead near a random cluster of rocks that might have looked like a trail marker. She was best known for playing Beth Crowne on the soap opera Paradise Bay before trying to revive her career on an unsuccessful wrestling show. She is survived by her son, Sammy, and her bitter ex-husband Sam with his secretary Jessica.”
“Well, at least you get an obituary,” Y/N quips. “Mine would just read: Soap Star Found Dead Next to Unidentified Woman in National Park.”
Jo even snorts at that. “Well, I’m sure Dean would cut and edit an adorable video tribute with a bunch of B-roll about you at your funeral.”
“Yeah, maybe…” Y/N pensively licks her lips, her heart doing those painful twinges again whenever she thinks of him. “You know yet what you’re gonna do next?”
“No, I-… I think I wanna produce,” Jo announces with determination in her hazel eyes. “I don’t wanna ask permission. I’m so tired of it all. For once, I wanna boss people around and tell ‘em what to do. You know, you were right.”
Baffled, Y/N raises a brow. “About what?”
“Men,” Jo says simply and then spits with fire, “I fucking hate them all. The Crowleys and the Dicks and the Cases and the Sams and the Deans… They make the choices. They dictate the terms… I’m sick of it all. I just hate asking them for anything.”
“Dean’s not so bad,” Y/N says quietly but doesn’t look at Jo. Her heart stings for the millionth time. “I got that role for the Sondheim musical. They called this morning.”
Jo’s lips curve into a soft smile that reaches her eyes. “Congrats. I’m not surprised. You were really fucking good.”
Y/N’s heart flutters a little at the compliment. Tears begin to sting her eyes. She can’t remember the last time Jo was nice to her. “Thank you.”
“You don’t seem happy about it,” Jo notes attentively.
“No, I am,” Y/N manages to choke out, but the sniffling betrays her intentions.
“But?”
Y/N bobs her head, swallowing. “I think I’m ready to talk about it now.”
“Fucking finally,” Jo huffs and rubs her cold and goosebump-littered arms as the heat disappears, the nightly air bringing a fresh breeze.
“Dean told me he loves me,” Y/N confesses. “He’s in love with me.”
“Yeah, no shit. Kinda obvious,” Jo says without a twitch of surprise. “Don’t feel bad for not loving him back. That’s what they want… For us to feel bad about every single fucking thing.”
“That’s just it. I don’t think that’s how I feel,” Y/N replies and lets out a jittery sigh.
Jo’s head turns to her, eyeing her friend up and down. “And how do we feel about that? I can’t tell. It’s too dark to see your face.”
“I-, uh, I don’t exactly know,” Y/N says, which is partially true. She might know how she feels about the green-eyed director, but not how she feels about the situation overall.
Jo purses her lips and nods. “Alright, here’s a couple of options: happy, excited, scared, or… repulsed?”
“Well, uhm… scared,” Y/N admits slowly and gulps. “And excited… happy.”
Jo throws her arms up, shaking her head at the stars. “Jesus fuck! Then what the fuck are we doing here?! Is that why you dragged me all the way to the fucking desert? Because you’re running from your feelings?”
“Kinda. I thought the peaceful quiet and beautiful nature would bring me some much-needed clarity,” Y/N explains.
Jo lifts a brow but tries not to seem too annoyed. She’s accustomed to her friend’s theatrics, after all. “And? Did it?”
“The hike didn’t, but facing death kinda does,” Y/N jokes and begins to laugh a little, Jo soon joining her. When their laughter dies down and the desert sounds of chirping crickets and screeching eagles remain, Y/N exhales a shaky breath. “I’m in love with him, too. He makes me really fucking happy. But… I finally feel like I’m on the right track with my career. I am where I’m supposed to be, you know? I don’t wanna throw that away for a guy.”
“Who says you should?”
“I don’t know… Isn’t that how it goes? You did it,” Y/N argues.
Jo licks her lips and clicks her tongue. “Yeah, ‘cause I chose the wrong fucking guy. Sam made me give up everything I ever loved and told me what to love instead. If you pick the right guy, he won’t make you do that.”
“How do I know it’s the right guy, though?”
Jo smiles softly. “Look, I’m not Dean’s biggest fan, but he’s yours. You know that, right? He’d never hold you back. He adores the ground you walk on. Yes, he’s an asshole with so many fucking issues, and he’s goddamn annoying most of the time, but he’s always had your back, even when he pretended that he didn’t. The guy would probably sell every limb and his fucking soul to see you get everything you ever wanted, Y/N. He wouldn’t be a mistake. You know what would be a mistake? Not trying because you’re too scared of making one. Don’t be fucking stupid.”
Thoughtfully, Y/N nods in agreement and grabs her crutches, rising from her rocky seat. “I need to see him. We have to head back to the city.”
“Finally! Thank fucking God.” With a grunt, Jo jumps to her feet and helps Y/N to steady hers. “Maybe the girls made a fire bright enough, so we can find our way back.”
“Shit.”
“What? They have matches, don’t they? I’m sure these bitches can manage a simple fire, right?” Jo then notices Y/N’s hand curling around her bicep, her grip tightening. And then, Jo glances in the direction of Y/N’s eyes and sees the same damn thing. Her brown eyes widen.
“Mountain lion.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” the blonde hisses and holds on to her friend as well. Both women freeze on the spot. “What-, uh, what should we do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we should throw a stick?”
“A stick?” Jo arches her brow. The big cat snarls and stalks a little closer, making the two women jump back. Their hearts are thumping in their throats at this point. “It’s not a fucking dog, Y/N. It won’t play fetch with you.”
“I know that. How about you come up with a better idea, then?” Y/N snaps through gritted teeth. The lion hisses again, causing the women to tremble down to their bones and hug each other tighter. “I think I should jump it.”
“Are you nuts? No!”
“Look, while it eats me, you can flee. I can’t run with my cast anyways. This is the best option,” Y/N insists, but Jo vehemently shakes her head.
“Fuck no! You’re not sacrificing yourself. We die together. You’re not leaving me behind,” Jo maintains. “I always knew my death would be your fault. Don’t ask me how, but I knew you’d get me killed somehow.”
The wild cat takes another step forward and lowers to the ground as if to get ready to jump its prey – them. But then a few tumbling rocks and breaking twigs draw its attention behind the women. Is there an even bigger cat here?
And suddenly, Meg leaps forward from above them with a loud howl and snarls at the cat, which hastily tucks its tail between its legs and flees down the hill into the dark night. Y/N and Jo expel a big breath of relief and a shaky laugh as they find Meg.
“Meg, what the fuck? Did you just scare away a mountain lion?” Y/N gapes at her friend in utter disbelief.
Meg only shrugs her shoulders. “I hate cats. What are you guys doing out here so long?”
“We got lost. Couldn’t find our way back to camp,” Y/N explains.
Meg furrows her brow and thumbs behind her. “It’s just over there. You guys have been hiking around the same hill for five hours.”
Jo shoots Y/N a small glare of annoyance and blows some loose strands of blonde hair out of her face. “Of course we did…” she mutters.
“We have to get back to LA!” Y/N declares eagerly, trying to climb the small rocky hill with her crutches, foregoing the more suitable pathway.
“Right now? It’s probably 3am when we get to Burbank. Can’t this wait till tomorrow?” Jo says as she attempts to climb after her friend.
“No! I almost died! Twice… Dean needs to know how I feel before I get bit by a rattlesnake, too,” Y/N reiterates passionately.
“It’s probably for the best,” Meg chimes in. “We kinda forgot to pack food. I was about to hunt something for us when I ran into you guys. We have tons of drugs and booze, though.”
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Y/N’s knuckles thunder persistently on Dean’s door and conjure up a storm. She has jumped out of Ruby’s limo so fast, the girls are still scrambling out and flooding Dean’s front lawn one by one. They’re loud and obnoxious, but the ringing in her ears makes their chatter barely noticeable.
The lock clicks and the door opens. Dean stands in front of her with weary green eyes, heavy with sleep, tousled bed-head, and a furiously scrunched brow. He half yawns and half grumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Once he feels clearer, minus the soft buzz of whiskey remnants in his bloodstream, he blinks at the young actress in front of him and then tilts his head at the circus show behind her.
God, between his punk rock daughter and this, his neighbors must really hate him.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you guys supposed to be camping in fucking Joshua Tree?” His voice is a gravelly bark. He doesn’t mean to sound so harsh, especially when he just woke from a dream about her, but he’s not as masochistic as he used to be. He’s not a fan of torturing himself with the image of her any longer.
Y/N’s heart somersaults as soon as she sees him, even though his apprehension hurts a bit. “Look, I almost died tonight. We got lost in the desert and then a mountain lion almost fucking ate us.”
Dean licks his lips, nodding. “Yeah, I’m not fucking surprised. Told you Palm Springs is the better option. So, did anyone fucking die? What’s the head count?”
“No one died.”
“Huh. Then why the fuck are you here in the middle of the night, Y/N?” Dean bites, his brow creasing in anger. He can’t even fucking look at her for a second without his heart being on the brink of an explosion. Even saying her goddamn name hurts like needle pricks in an abused vein.
“I–” Y/N swallows thickly. Her drumming heart is stuck in her airway along with her words.
“She’s here to tell you she loves you!” Ruby hollers behind her before several girls tackle her and clasp her mouth shut.
Dean’s heart twists upon the sick joke, his frown deepening. But then he glances at Y/N and thinks he can spot the truth in her eyes. He thought that once before, though, and was terribly wrong.
Y/N gives a shrug of one shoulder with tears brimming in her eyes. A small smile forms on her lips. “What she said.”
Dean nods and drags a hand over his freckled face, feeling the tears well in his eyes, too. Fucking whiskey. Always renders him goddamn sentimental. “Look, uhm, you kinda gotta tell me this yourself. Otherwise, I won’t believe it, okay?”
Upon his request, Y/N takes a deep breath and looks him into his eyes. “I’m in fucking love with you.” As soon as the words are out, she starts crying and the tears fall down her cheeks. Meanwhile, Dean’s heart tumbles into free fall, and he’s sure not even a parachute can stop it. “I’ve never said that to anyone in my life. Is-, is it too late?”
Dean snorts and shakes his head, grinning brighter than the California sun on the longest day of the year. “Fuck no. Even if it had taken you thirty years, I still would’ve taken you back. That’s kinda how once-in-a-lifetime love works, sweetheart.”
“Okay. Sounds like a good movie,” Y/N jokes between her tears, her fingers tingling to touch him.
“Yeah, best one there is.”
His hands grab hold of her and pull her into his embrace. He claims her lips, Y/N eagerly parting her mouth as his tongue slips between. The kiss is rushed and fervent and perfectly desperate. They’re both so gone they can’t even hear the girls cheering and applauding them in the background.
“You’re gonna come inside?” Dean asks in a murmur against her lips, barely letting her breath.
“Uhm…”
“Hey, Lothario, you got space for us, too?” Cassie shouts with a wide smirk.
“Yeah, we’re fucking starving,” Ruby adds with an impatiently arched brow.
“We, uh, forgot to pack food,” Y/N explains with a chuckle.
Dean sighs and smiles knowingly. “Of course you did.” He then turns to the women waiting on his lawn. “Alright, get in. I’ll order some pizzas.”
The women then proceed to brush past the couple and filter into Dean’s house. Missouri pinches his cheeks, Ruby pats his head, Cassie fist-bumps him and sends Y/N a flirty wink, Meg tousles his hair, Charlie shrugs apologetically, and Jo offers an annoyed eye roll.
“I’m never gonna get rid of them, am I?” Dean looks down at her and tightens his jaw, even when a grin is visible.
“No, I’m afraid not. It’s like you’ve adopted twelve strays. One of which actually turned out to be your long-lost puppy. They’re gonna be here until you die and then eat your corpse,” Y/N quips.
“Funny.” Dean clicks his tongue, his dimples itching to form a grin.
“Oooo! Let’s call the guys!” he hears Ruby exclaim from inside his living room. “It’s a fucking wrap party at the boss’ house!”
“No! No party! Guys, c’mon!” Dean storms inside after them, leaving Y/N giggling on his doorstep.
“Let’s call Garth, Kevin, and Benny!” Donna suggests, ignoring his protests. It’s like they can’t fucking hear him.
“I’ll call my husband, too!” Bela adds and eagerly dials Cas’ number on his landline.
“Oh, right, Cas…” Dean mutters with an eye roll as he remembers the impromptu wedding. “No fucking Benny!”
Y/N joins his side and rubs his back in comfort as he watches his house sink into female doom. “You okay?”
The deep trenches in his brow flatten into soft valleys as his green eyes lock on her. He dips his head and pulls her to his lips, kissing her slow and reverently. “Better.” He smirks. “Just gonna have to sage the whole house tomorrow.”
That earns him a playful slap on his chest. He laughs and pulls her closer with an arm around her waist.
“Hey, uh, speaking of party…” Dean mumbles before he addresses the whole room, grabbing their attention with an authoritative clear of his throat. He’s still got it. “You guys wanna do shows in Vegas?”
“What?!”
Dean’s eyes find Y/N’s gaping face. He chuckles a little. “Yeah, uh, Bobby offered me a deal. There’s nothing in the network contract about live shows. I already went over it with Cas this afternoon. It pays well, too. You guys interested? It’s not like any of you have actual jobs lined up, right?”
Y/N closes her mouth. “I got that Sondheim musical in San Diego. It’s a workshop production, but if it goes well, it could go all the way to Broadway. I could end up in New York.”
“Good,” Dean says and smirks. “You’re fucking fired.”
“WHAT?!” Y/N’s mouth falls open again. “You said you’d never fire me!”
“Yeah, well, this is for your own good,” Dean reasons. “You think I’m gonna let you quit Sondheim for some stupid wrestling show in Vegas? You gotta be fucking nuts! This is what you fucking wanted. Don’t make me kick your stupid ass onto that stage. It’s gonna look embarrassing for you again…”
Y/N bites her lips to conceal her grin. Her eyes meet Jo’s, who mouths ‘I told you so’ at her. “Thank you,” she tells Dean and kisses his cheek. He furrows his brow at her in suspicion. “But rehearsals don’t start until June. Still gonna need a job till then.”
“Oh.” Dean’s brow shoots up in realization. “The June in nine months?”
“Yeah, the June in nine months,” Y/N confirms with a laugh.
“Whoops. Well, consider yourself rehired till June, then,” Dean relents.
“So, if I ever have to work in New York–”
“Then we’ll go to New York. Big fucking whoop-dee-doo. You know I hate LA.”
Y/N giggles, nodding. “What would you do in New York?”
“Same I do here, just on a little balcony instead of a backyard. I sit with my typewriter by a table and smoke and drink,” Dean retorts. “I’ve actually been working on a new script. I’m moving away from horror and into Western.”
“Got inspired by the motel’s wallpaper, huh?” Y/N teases. “What’s it about?”
“Father-daughter storyline. Thought I’d give that a shot…”
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1990, 5 years later…
“Dean! We’re gonna be late!” Y/N reminds him and holds the blindfold in place over her eyes as he drags her somewhere by the hand. Her heels can barely keep up with his fast pace. “You know, check-in at LAX is the worst. Our flight departs in two hours. I’m nominated, Dean! I can’t reschedule! The girls are all flying in, too…”
“I know! I’m fucking hurrying, okay?” Dean assures. However, she can hear the stress and tension in his gravelly voice. He then suddenly halts and positions her into place by her shoulders before carefully taking off the blindfold. “Alright, here we are.”
Y/N blinks her eyes open and recognizes blurry shapes of purple and gold. She lifts an eyebrow as ornaments on the walls and a big stage come into view as well. “The Aztec porno theater?”
“Mayan,” Dean corrects her and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he gets down in front of her on one knee and tries to fumble out the too-big ring box from his too-tiny suit jacket pocket. “Son of a bitch!”
“Dean, wait!” Y/N stops his endeavor with raised palms, her eyebrows meeting her hairline when she realizes what he’s about to do.
“Oh, c’mon, Y/N!” Dean frowns in frustration and rises to his feet with a huff and a shaking head. “I know you’re against marriage and the patriarchy and all that bullshit, but c’mon… We’ve been dating for five years. We have a good thing going, right?”
After spending a whole year in beautiful Las Vegas – the Paris of Nevada – the two of them moved to New York. Dean sold his house in Burbank and opted for a Brooklyn apartment instead. Claire also studied film at NYU before she graduated last Spring. But every few months, the couple finds themselves back in LA – for interviews, for business, for friends.
“Dean–”
“No! You know me. I’d make a great fucking husband. You love it when I make reporters laugh on the red carpet. I’m an awesome trophy husband, okay?”
“DEAN!”
“WHAT?!”
Why the fuck is she angry now? He should be the one that’s angry. She’s turning down the best opportunity of her life. She should consider herself lucky he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. He even had an amazing speech prepared to knock her right off her feet, but does he get to say it now? How he wanted to grow fucking old together and support each other? How he wanted to marry her all those years ago when she told him she was pregnant? Nope...
“I’m fucking pregnant!”
Dean blinks at her in confusion before his eyes begin to wander around the familiar theater. Did he take something? Drink too much? Did he actually travel through time or is this a weird fever dream on his deathbed?
“What’s it with you and this theater? And why do you always yell that?”
“Because you never listen.” Y/N giggles and bites her lower lip. “And I’ll gladly marry you if that’s what you were going for. I just figured I’d tell you before in case you wanna change your mind and bail.”
“Why the fuck would I bail?” Dean’s brows knit together, close to offense.
She shrugs and holds up her palms in surrender. “I don’t know! I didn’t want you to feel trapped.”
“Why? Isn’t it mine?”
Y/N rolls her eyes, a grin twitching on her pink lips as she slaps his arm. “Yes, of course it’s yours.”
“And you’re keeping it? You sure?” Dean throws her a quizzical look.
Her brow furrows. “Why, you aren’t?”
“No, I am!” he assures her swiftly, realizing how it sounded. “Hell yeah, I want another kid! You know I always wanted to make up for missing out on Claire so much! I finally get to change a diaper, go to the park, or the fucking zoo while my wife works… It’ll be so fun!”
Y/N tries to stifle her laugh. He seems happy, judging by the joyful glint in his green eyes. They resemble sparkling emeralds.
“But are you sure, y' know?” Dean checks with a deep look into her eyes. “I mean, I do what I can to support you and keep the thing alive in your absence, but you know you’re still gonna be benched for a couple of months, right? I’m not a fucking seahorse.”
Y/N laughs a little at that. “I know. I’m fine with sitting on the bench for a little while. I’m kinda exhausted. I did two Broadway musicals almost back to back, three off-Broadway shows, all the workshops and the rehearsals and Matinees and the dancing and the singing… Not to mention I’m nominated for a fucking Tony tonight,” she says and is close to out of breath by the time she finishes her list of accomplishments.
“Which you’re gonna win,” Dean reassures her persistently. He’s been telling her since the nominations were announced (and even before that when he first saw her in the role on the first night).
“We’ll see,” she brushes him off, although her blushed cheeks betray her words. In her heart, she hopes so as well. “Anyways, I could use the break,” she admits and takes his hands in hers, interlacing their fingers. She places a loving kiss on his lips. “Right time, right guy, right baby,” she says, smiling.
Dean squeezes her hand happily and pulls her to his lips for a searing kiss. “So, where did we land on that whole marriage thing?”
“See? You’re never listening,” she teases, laughing. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Under one condition…”
Dean smirks. “I've had the same exact thought – Vegas. It’s perfect!”
“What, no! I don’t wanna get married in filthy Vegas, you dork!” Y/N frowns playfully, shaking her head. “I wanna get married in Nebraska. I want my dad to marry us."
Dean’s brow creases. He chuckles in amusement. “What, like a shotgun wedding? Could be fun… Pastor marries pregnant daughter to older man. Is this gonna make headlines in the townie paper?”
Y/N snorts, shaking her head at him. “No, it’s a shotgun wedding. It’s very common,” she deadpans.
“I’ve never met your parents,” Dean realizes then. “Why have I never met your parents? It’s weird they never come visit you,” he ponders.
“Oh no, they do,” Y/N tells him, pursing her lips as she twirls her hair around her finger. “They’ve seen me both in Into The Woods and Gypsy.”
“Really, when?” Dean narrows his eyes at her.
“Whenever you were in LA, visiting Claire,” Y/N admits ruefully. She never told them she was dating the director, not sure if they’d approve – not that she gives a shit, but she wanted to spare herself all the sermons and the exploring of the Sunday school dating pool. Whenever they asked who owned the men’s clothes in her apartment, she lied and said she had a gay-but-in-the-closet roommate. “But you can meet them now,” she promises with a reassuring smile on her lips. Thank God she’s an excellent, Tony-nominated actress. “I’m sure they learn to love you just like I did.”
“Learn to?”
“I love you.” Y/N smiles mischievously and shuts up any further comments by kissing him.
Dean grins and relents with a blissful sigh. “I love you, too.”
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THE END 🌅
Thank you all so much for reading and making me laugh with your comments and screams throughout! 🤍
Are we done with these two for good? Probably not. I've left gaps and doors open on purpose, so I'm sure they'll make an appearance again at some point in the future 😉
TAGS:
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barrenclan · 3 days
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unsure if this has been said before but please let me get what i want (the deftones vers specifically) feels very fitting for pinepaw or maybe even rainhaze. the family guys who are almost foils to each other when they're both going through a messy rough time 🤝
I really like this suggestion, because Morrissey is my current voiceclaim for Pinepaw so he's very Smiths-coded in my mind.
Haven't had a dream in a long time See, the life I've had Could make a good man bad
So for once in my life Let me get what I want Lord knows it would be the last time Lord knows it would be the first time
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Oh my friend, British men screeching is just about my favorite musical styling.
Want land in the valley There's pieces of you breaking off (Pieces of you breaking off)
Big money's in the basin, you don't come back without it He's killing with abandon to get over the mountain Got darkest rum from Mama, seething in the liver Blood disease from Papi, poisoning the river
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Friends on the Other Side works pretty well for Ranger, at the very least his attitude. Rainhaze's deal came from desperation rather than greed, but I do like things that speak to his thoughtless self-centeredness and hero complex.
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That's a Rainhaze song if I ever heard one!
Stuck in the middle of a forest made of Flesh and bones and they're all scared of A lost little boy who has lost his heart Fear's not enough, they have to Tear him apart
Follow the scent of iron sinking Deeper into corpses rotting But they can't hear you talk, talk, talk About every little thing
And the Hound Is humming you A lie, a lullaby
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Ohh, yeah... I can see it.
I wonder who I'd be If all these bad things Didn't happen to me
I must be The Virgin Mary To create a son Who will suffer so much <- the sloug.......
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The tone of the song is pretty light, but I can see the lyrics working! Especially drawing parallels between the original great destruction and the current onslaught.
Oh god, come quickly The execution of all things Let's start with the bears and the air And mountains, rivers and streams Then we'll murder what matters to you And move on to your neighbors and kids Crush all hopes of happiness with disease 'Cause of what you did
And lastly, you're all alone with nothing left but sleep But sleep never comes to you It's the guilt and forever wakefulness of the weak It's just you and me
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Ah, that musical is on my watchlist but I haven't gotten around to it yet. I've heard pretty good things, though!
I roar! And you cry! I'm the reason You run and hide!
You better leave your hopes behind No one's gonna stop him You better hope he's out of sight Or you're doomed to be a victim
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Objectively wild pull, but I do love Johnny Cash, and his voice reminds me a lot of what Mallowstar's would be like. I like this song a lot with him. :,]
Well, I won't back down, no I won't back down You can stand me up at the gates of Hell But I won't back down
Well, I know what's right, I got just one life In a world that keeps on pushin' me around But I stand my ground and I won't back down <- wahh mallowstar...
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I'd definitely this has big Slugpelt energy.
Dear, I fear we're facing a problem You love me no longer, I know And maybe there is nothing That I can do to make you do Mama tells me I shouldn't bother
Lately I have desperately pondered, Spent my nights awake and I wonder What I could have done in another way To make you stay
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It's a pretty good song!
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YAY Queen song! This is interesting; I can see it very well with characters that are still a spoiler to talk about.
So much ado, my lover So many games we played Through every fleeted summer Through every precious day
All dead, all dead All the dreams we had And I wonder why I still live on All dead, all dead And alone, I'm spared My sweeter half instead All dead and gone
Damn I ran out of video links
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ariscats · 1 day
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Jameson Hawthorne analyze, part 3
The day everyone (including me) thought wouldn’t happen came into life, the day i update my series (that i started months ago) abt analyzing tig characters. Everyone pls give a round of applause to the amazing @x-liv25-jamieswife that remembered me about this and helped me a lot writing this, even writing some of the pharagraphs.
Psychology
“I should not be left to my own devices
They come with prices and vices
I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)
I wake up screaming from dreaming
One day I'll watch as you're leaving
'Cause you got tired of my scheming
(For the last time)” -Anti Hero, T.S.
We are introduced to Jameson when he's drunk and careless. We see him jump off a two-story balcony and act like his grandfather's death “doesn't matter”. And that's mainly what we get from him throughout the first book, a boy that doesn’t care for anything, not even for himself. We get a little more explanation for why he acts like this in the second book of the series, The Hawthorne Legacy, where we find out that his actions and carelessness are a coping mechanism for him. “If you let this be a game, it doesn’t have to hurt” (THL, page 113). Jameson taught himself not to care from a very young age. After all, you can’t get hurt if you don’t let yourself care for anything, and, for a boy raised in the shadow of 3 “more extraordinary” brothers according to his grandfather, it was important for him to learn how to ignore his grandfather's words and actions (and other people’s comments too). Because people cared less for him than for his brothers, he began to move through life without looking where he stepped, without giving a second thought about most things, only letting in a select group of people, people who were with him since he was born (his brother, Emily ☠️ ), but even then he couldn't fully open up. 
To avoid his feelings, he not only takes unnecessary risks that put his life in danger, but he also drinks. Drinking his emotions away allows him to focus on things other than himself. He wants to focus on anything other than himself because of his self-hatred which we will come back to later. People drink to take away the pain which is what Jameson desperately wants to do. Another one of his coping mechanisms is to think of everything as a game. By looking at everything as if it’s a game, he can easily ignore his feelings. For example, when Tobias died, and he didn’t want to think about his death and the impact he had in his life, he began to think solely about the game Tobias had left (it’s important to note that Jameson has a laser focus, which means that when he’s focused in the game, he has the opportunity to think about nothing else, which also contributes to his copying mechanism. In the books, most of the few times where Jameson is actually happy, it’s because he’s focused on a game or riddle, because it’s one of the few times he doesn't think about all the other things happening in his life.) Doing this distracts him from his problems (grief, self-hatred, insecurities). Jameson’s main priority has always been to think of anything but his emotions, and he does everything in his power in order to do so.
When his mother got pregnant, she wasn’t thinking about having a baby. For Skye Hawthorne, being pregnant meant her fathers attention and something to love her the way she wasn’t as a child. She got pregnant with a professional gambler that never cared to show up or be present at all in his life, and, when the pregnancy and the baby stage were over, so were her fathers attention, and, then, she moved on. She left him as she had left his two older brothers. She only appeared from time to time, never staying for long. Because of that, Jameson started to believe that people would naturally leave him, and that he wasn’t worth people’s attention. He thought that him being himself and being vulnerable around people would lead to them leaving him.
This brings us to his self-hatred. With his mother constantly showing up and then leaving throughout his childhood and his grandfather telling him he’s ordinary compared to his brothers, he started to hate himself. If his own family couldn’t love him and accept him, then who could? His self-hatred and his abandonment issues are what keeps him from opening up to others. Because he hates himself, he thinks that others will too if they truly get to know him which is what keeps him from being vulnerable with others. If he keeps himself from opening up to others and letting them in, they won’t learn to hate him like he hates himself and leave him. Being vulnerable also means acknowledging his own feelings which is clearly something he tries to avoid at all costs.
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