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gimmeurtmi · 1 year

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no nut november — hyunjin (loser #3)

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

tags: no nut november mini series, established relationship, domestic bliss, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, mentions of masturbation/watching porn, mentions of overstimulation, cockwarming, unprotected sex, no nut november as a bet, slight dirty talk, use of names like “pretty boy”, group chat shenanigans

inspo: that video of jinnie fixing his hair with his head thrown back and everyone staring in awe.. you know the one

notes: this is so self indulgent when it was meant to be my gift to @sluttywonwoo lmao. i hope you enjoy the softness of it all, boo! and i hope you feel the joy i felt when writing this <3

banner by @sluttywonwoo

{ wc: 4227 }

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!!” You heard Hyunjin screaming from the next room.

You were in the kitchen trying to make breakfast, following Hyunjin’s mother’s recipe for his favourite breakfast food. He came over to yours after your weekly game night—since most of the rooms at theirs were full anyway, and besides, it gifted you with a peaceful morning. Or so you thought.

Hyunjin came into your kitchen, dancing around in what you assumed was celebration, wearing nothing but his boxers and your old jumper from highschool.

He was dancing around so much, flailing his arms enough that the jumper had started riding up, his happy trail peaking out through the fabric.

You swallowed.

“What happened?” You asked, as casually as you could, focusing on the pan in front of you.

“Jeongin lost!”

To prove his point, he showed you the group chat he had with his friends, in which the youngest retold his story from the night before.

You’d have to congratulate them both for finally being brave enough, you noted.

“Cool,” you said simply.

You weren’t really surprised he was talking about that bet again. It was like it was the only thing he could think about since it started. When he told you about it—all you could was laugh and shake your head.

But then he told you what the stakes were, and only after that did you agree and promise him you’d do your best not to get in his way. If it meant you had a whole weekend of Hyunjin to yourself—then you’d play along with their stupid bet.

Although, it was already driving you crazy.

You knew Hyunjin wasn’t doing it on purpose, it’s not like he could help how gorgeous he was, but he didn’t make your life any easier when he so casually licked his lips after taking a bite from the food.

“Thank you, babe,” he said with a smile before devouring the rest of his plate.

You sighed.

The rest of the day was spent catching up on Hyunjin’s favourite K-Drama. You liked it, but what was better than the show was your boyfriend’s commentary. The gasps, pleading at the characters (as if they could hear him), and calling out the plot twists a few scenes before they were revealed.

“What?” He asked as he caught you smiling at him.

“Nothing,” you grinned, placing your head on his shoulder as you cuddled closer to him.

November 9th

A few days passed since you last got to spend time with your boyfriend. But today you knew you had all night together.

Your roommate went to her girlfriend’s house on Wednesdays and it so happened that that was the day Hyunjin finished work reasonably early.

She was never there to disturb you and your boyfriend had more time and so it always ended up with a sleepover.

From being the day you spent together it had evolved to your self care day—one that Hyunjin happily agreed to participate in with you.

There was only one problem. The stupid bet.

You spent all week waking up from wet dreams. Sometimes they were only about your boyfriend and sometimes they involved other people, too. That’s how you knew it was really bad. You were faithful, even in your dreams, but when other people showed up you knew you were unsatisfied and needy.

Luckily, agreeing to the bet never meant that you weren’t allowed to do anything by yourself—but needless to say, that didn’t quite cut it anymore.

Still, you decided if you were still this horny when he showed up it wouldn’t be fair—you could even class it as sabotage, and so, you took matters into your own hands. What else did you have to help you?

It was still early in the morning, you had the whole day to yourself, and so you opened your phone and logged onto an incognito tab.

Your fingers moved across the keyboard, searching and researching. You tried all your go-to’s, but you knew you were screwed when you were on the third page of the search results and none of the videos were even close to what you wanted.

You wanted Hyunjin.

You even went as far as looking for actors who resembled him—but that was impossible. No one was anywhere near as beautiful as him. You were sure it was cosmically impossible for there to be more than one Hyunjin.

That thought, of course, led you to imagine the impossible scenario of having two of him pleasing you at the same time. Kissing and touching and groping and—

You groaned as you locked your phone.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and so you unlocked your private file on your phone.

There was only a handful of photos on there and even a few short videos he sent you during the times you were away from each other for too long.

You looked through each one of them carefully, taking your time to appreciate his body, his dick, his face, his moans.

After a few moments of just admiring you got to work, shimming your shorts off your body.

You went on for as long as you could—managing to pull out six orgasms before you had to stop and gulp in some air. It felt empty.

You weren’t nearly as satisfied as you thought you’d be, not to mention, you could only think about the look on your boyfriend’s face if he managed to get you to cum that many times in a row.

You dragged yourself out of bed, washing the sweat and stickiness off you in the shower quickly. You might’ve taken extra time touching your tits—still feeling the need to please yourself however you could—but that was between you and the shampoo bottles.

Once you were ready, hair mask washed off, you made your way into the living room accompanied by your soft lo-fi playlist.

Everything was exactly how you wanted it to be on your day off—curled up on the couch under your fluffy throw blanket.

A few dozen tiktoks later, the door opened, your boyfriend letting himself in with the pair of keys you gave him a few weeks back. He had a clear bag in the other hand—and you could already spot your favourite sweets in there.

“Jinnie!” You exclaimed with a grin, opening your arms in an invitation. You didn’t want to get off the couch just yet and considering your boyfriend was just about to join you anyway he didn’t mind.

“Y/N/N!” He parroted, kicking off his shoes by the door. He quickly put down his keys and the bag, rushing over to you as he skipped from side to side.

“How is my dimples doing today?” You asked after he fell into your arms.

“Tired, but practice was good,” he nodded at you. “Did you move today?”

“A little,” you said, scrunching your nose.

“Your hair smells nice,” he sighed contently, burying his face in your neck.

“I put a mask on it,” you said, touching the now softer locks.

“You started without me?” He gasped.

“I thought it would be best to avoid the shower part together,” you pointed out, eyebrows raised.

Hyunjin hummed at you, nodding in confirmation that you had the right idea.

“I bought those strawberry masks you like, and they were on offer so I got you an extra two to keep. And there was this lip scrub I wanted to try,” Hyunjin said, pointing at the bag on the table with his leg. “My lips are so dry.”

“It’s the weather,” you hummed.

“Or maybe I don’t get enough kisses,” he pouted up at you.

“Kissing makes your lips drier,” you countered.

“False,” he shook his head.

“And the fucking stubble burn makes my chin and lips crack,” you said with a huff.

“I get stubble burn, too,” he raised his eyebrows.

“From what?” You gasped at him.

Hyunjin moved his eyes towards your crotch before looking up at you pointedly.

“Complaining, are we?”

“No! But I’m just saying,” he shrugged.

“And I’m just saying, you haven’t done that in ten days.”

“Why are you counting?” Hyunjin giggled.

“Because there’s nothing left to do,” you sighed dramatically.

“Oh, shut up,” he chuckled. At that he lifted himself off your body, easily making his way into the kitchen.

“Do you want peppermint tea or camomile?”

“Peppermint please,” you grinned at him, getting up.

“No, no, where are you going?” He stopped you with his hand up in the air.

“To get the hairbands?” You said, matter of fact.

There was a very clear routine in place, familiar, and you were simply following it.

“You, sit. I am man, man gets hairbands. Man makes tea.”

“Okay, man,” you rolled your eyes. But you snuggled deeper into your blanket nonetheless.

Soon Hyunjin offered you the warm cup of tea before he skipped over to your room to grab your matching pink hairbands. They had bear ears attached to them, and Hyunjin smiled softly to himself as he pushed the plush fabric up to his hairline. He plopped yours over your head (he knew it was yours since it had your foundation colour on it, stains that wouldn’t come off no matter how many times you washed it) and helped you push it up past your forehead.

After that he grabbed the edge of your blanket and frappes it over his legs.

Then he grabbed your phone, opened it easily since the passcode was your anniversary, and started queuing songs on your spotify.

It was all as it should be.

Once the tea was finished—Hyunjin telling you all about the drama unfolding between the new trainees in the studio across from theirs—you both put your mugs to the side.

“Am I allowed to get the masks?” You asked with a raise of your brows.

“Nope,” he grinned, jumping up and running towards the bag. As if you were gonna race him.

He plopped back down on the couch, bag in hand, and unloaded its contents. First, the strawberry face masks, and then the lip scrub, and then your sweets, and then some cherry flavoured lip balm, and then a new body lotion that “even has glitter in it!” and then a replacement of your moisturiser that Hyunjin may or may not have stolen from you.

“Anything else?” You joked as you looked down at the loot in your lap.

“Is there something missing? I can go out and—“

“Calm down, Jinnie,” you laughed, placing your hands on his forearms, “what’s up with you today?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I just wanna make sure you have a nice relaxing day.”

You nodded.

“Are you having a relaxing day?” You double checked.

He nodded.

“Okay,” you agreed. “You first.”

You handed him the mask, offering your face over to him.

He wiped your face with micellar water and a cotton pad before slowly and delicately placing the mask on your face. After tapping around it a few times to make sure it was stuck on properly, and bopping your nose for his own amusement, Hyunjin announced he was done. You opened your eyes and grabbed the second mask, applying it to his beautiful face.

You let the masks set for twenty minutes—enough time for you to tell Hyunjin all about your plans for your sister’s birthday—and once you peeled them off and washed your faces it was time for the lip scrub.

Hyunjin grabbed “the wand”, as he called it, and scooped up a generous amount of the scrub before grabbing your chin.

You focused on his face as he spread the small grains over your lips—his eyes zeroed in on them. Your heart started beating faster as you felt a wetness pooling in your underwear at the attention he was giving you. You took in a deep breath.

“You’re too far away,” he muttered to himself, scooting closer. He grabbed your thighs, pulling himself towards you, then lifted your shins to place them on either side of his body.

You could easily place your forehead on his, and so you did.

“Close enough?” You whispered.

“Could never be close enough,” he shook his head simply. You scooted closer still, your hands settled on his thighs, smiling at him.

He grabbed your chin again, angling your face so he could scrub the product onto your lips.

Hyunjin puckered his lips at you, eyebrows raised. So you leaned in closer and kissed his lips.

“No,” he giggled, “pucker them.”

“Oh,” you giggled back, following his instructions as your eyes settled on how adorable he looked while he concentrated on his task. And, as much as you tried not to focus on it, you took a moment to realise the intense stare he held on your lips was accompanied by a fluttering in your pussy you tried so hard to ignore.

As Hyunjin moved the product on your lips in circular motions, you instinctively moved your hands up his thigh, playing with the string on his sweats casually.

Hyunjin swallowed visibly.

“Um,” he started, voice cracking lightly, “did you want to be closer?”

“Jinnie, I really don’t think that’s possible,” you said slowly, trying not to move your lips too much as you spoke.

“I mean like, uh, maybe I can be inside you?” He offered, avoiding your eyes completely as he looked around himself for a cotton pad to take off the excess product with.

“Uh,” you let out, feeling your heart race at his suggestion. “Well, that would definitely make us closer.”

Hyunjin nodded as he wiped your lips. “But are you sure? I mean, the bet.”

“Not like that,” he shook his head, “just to be close.”

“No moving?” You tried to confirm.

“If you want.” He handed you the products casually, keeping the routine going—even if the conversation was suggesting something entirely out of the ordinary.

You looked down at the small empty space between your bodies. You could very clearly see the outline of his erection through his grey sweats.

You licked your lips, tasting the coconut on them, noticing how soft they were.

Hyunjin was studying your face, the way your eyes moved from his lap to his lips a few times before you nodded.

“I don’t want to lose though,” you said, even though you didn’t really mean it that much. Sure, the prize was a very good one, but at this point you were starting to care a whole lot less about it.

“I miss you,” your boyfriend said, rubbing your shoulder softly.

You chuckled as you waved at him. “Hi!”

“I know,” he rolled his eyes, squeezing at your bicep, “I miss being close, I mean.”

“I would love to, if you think it’s okay,” Hyunjin grinned, “but we aren’t done with our skin care.”

“Of course,” he nodded seriously, “we can keep going like that.”

You smiled before shifting around to slip your shorts and underwear off.

“Do we need to warm you up or—“

“—no,” you scoffed, pulling on the knot tied on Hyunjin’s sweats. He laughed.

“Are you wet enough?”

“I came six times today,” you said casually, pulling his dick out of his boxers, “I’ve been wet since the morning.”

“Six?” He gulped, a small twang of jealousy in his voice. You weren’t sure if that was to do with the fact you got to cum or that he wasn’t involved in it. It was probably a bit of both, you thought.

You climbed onto his lap, pulling the blanket around yourself to stay warm and slowly with Hyunjin’s hands on your hips helping you sink down onto him, you got into position.

The pair of you let out a few breathy gasps at the almost foreign sensation, realising you both truly missed the feeling of Hyunjin inside you.

After a few small breaths, and a kiss on your shoulder, you grabbed the lip scrub and kept going.

“You’re really fucking wet,” Hyunjin sighed as soon as you wiped the excess product off. He used up every muscle in his body to concentrate on keeping still as you touched his lips—only now putting his thoughts into words. “Did you actually cum six times?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“How?”

You could feel his dick twitching inside you as the words left his mouth.

“Are you sure you want to hear more details?” You cocked up an eyebrow. Hyunjin licked his lips.

“You can tell me if you want,” he said, lowly.

“No,” you chuckled, “I’m not trying to make this any harder for us.”

“Why are you complaining when you got to cum today?” He pouted.

“I’ve been cumming every day this month, actually,” you said simply. Hyunjin thrusted up at that.

“Hey!” You warned him, even if it was undermined by the small moan that you let out beforehand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was just… a hot thing to say.”

“Do I need to get off?” You asked seriously, giving him a pointed look before applying some lip balm on his beautifully plush kissable lips.

“No, no, no,” he insisted, “stay close.”

After he applied lip balm to your lips, the pair of you shared a small kiss, and then you started massaging the moisturiser into his face.

He intertwined his fingers behind you, resting them on your lower back as he closed his eyes, completely content.

“I missed this,” he mumbled out softly, “your warm cunt and your smell and your wetness all over my c—“

You leaned down to kiss him, sighing into his soft cherry flavoured lips.

“You need to stop talking,” you warned.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he ignored you, opening his eyes as he stared right at you, his lids heavy.

“What did I just say?”

Still, he ignored you, unlocking his hands and trailing them to your hips. He pushed upwards, his dick nudging your sensitive spot gently.

“Jinnie,” you whined, “don’t do this.”

“Will you clench for me, baby?” He begged you, eyes wide and pleading in front of you.

“That is just as bad as moving.”

“Please. Just once, wanna feel how your cunt wraps around me so ti—fuuck.”

Hyunjin let out a louder moan when you repeated the action, pulling your body forward so your noses were touching. The new angle helped you feel the stretch even more, and it took all your self control and then some to stay still. Hyunjin was clearly losing his focus, you knew you had to stay strong for the both of you.

He pressed his lips against yours hungrily before thrusting up twice, his cock dragged against your walls so deliciously that your head fell backwards, allowing Hyunjin to press open mouth kisses to your neck.

You weren’t sure who started it, you or him, but soon you were bouncing up and down his dick repeatedly, your hands flat on his chest.

“Wait,” Hyunjin said breathlessly, holding your waist so you’d stop moving. “The bet.”

“Yeah,” you breathed in deeply. “The bet.”

You nodded at each other as you settled back down on your knees, once again staying perfectly still.

“Where were we?” He coughed, grabbing the moisturiser from where you discarded it on the couch, distributing a generous amount on the back of his hand before he started applying it to your face.

Once you covered all other areas, going through your joint skin care routine step by step, all that was left was a head massage to relax the face muscles.

You kissed Hyunjin softly, your faces still slightly sticky as the products all settled into your skins, and smiled at him as you pushed the hairband off his head, carding your hands through his hair.

You carefully unknotted his hair with your hands, slowly pressing your fingers into his scalp. His mouth hung open, his tongue poking out under his teeth as he relaxed into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

His dick twitched inside you again, and you had to actively breath out to stop yourself from clenching. You weren’t sure you could play along with his bet any more if he made you stop again. So you just had to act like this was any other Wednesday and his dick wasn’t inside you.

But you didn’t want to complain too much, even just having him inside you without any movement was a huge improvement from the empty feeling you had until now and so you’d happily stay this close to him if that’s what Hyunjin wanted. You were greedy of course, of course you wanted all of him and you wanted it now—but if you could still win this bet while having his dick inside you, you would take it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Hyunjin moaned softly, eyebrows scrunched as he melted into your touch.

You rubbed circles into his hair, moving up and down, focusing on his neck and his temples and anywhere that might have tension.

You dragged your nails up and down his scalp, something he’d asked for several times before, and smiled to yourself as his eyebrows raised themselves in pleasure.

Just when you were about to announce you were done and demand your weekly foot massage, Hyunjin squeezed your hips tightly.

“What is it, Jinnie?” You asked softly, unsure of what the squeeze was meant to tell you—he still hasn’t opened his eyes. Did he sense you were about to pull your hands away? Was he trying to tell you he wanted you to keep going?

“What does my pretty boy need?” You hummed, dragging your nails across his scalp one more time.

At that, Hyunjin’s head fell onto the back of the couch, his hips lifting as a long and loud groan left his chest.

You felt his dick pulsing inside you as he came, hard, a wet feeling dripping down your entrance as some of his cum leaked outside of your pussy.

His chest rose up and down heavily, his eyes blinking open as you admired his blissed out face, the way his jawline sat so proudly in front of you with his head tilted back.

He was outrageously gorgeous.

His thumb rubbed circles into your hips where he was still squeezing you, slowly loosening his grip as he came back down to reality, and in turn, came to terms with what just happened. In his own Hyunjin kind of way.

He brought his face into your chest, sobbing theatrically into your body.

“I tried so hard! I was trying so so hard,” he practically wailed, “We lost!”

“Yes, yes,” you patted his head comfortingly, “it’ll be alright.”

“We lost!”

“What were you expecting was gonna happen with you inside me?” You chuckled.

“I thought I could be strong!” He threw his head back, dragging you closer to him. “How could you let me fail so spectacularly?”

“I literally warned you,” you rolled your eyes.

“You let me crash and burn,” he shook his head, “betrayed by my own girlfriend.”

“Will you stop,” you pushed at his chest, laughing loudly at his antics. “It’s not my fault you came from literally nothing.”

“Nothing? I had my favourite girl around me scratching my head and playing with my hair. That’s literally what I imagine heaven looks like.”

“Right,” you rolled your eyes fondly. “How does it feel to be the third one out?”

Hyunjin groaned. “And after the two most obvious ones. Seungmin is gonna tease me to death about this.”

You laughed at him before slowly pushing yourself up, dripping down his sweats and over your fluffy blanket.

You grabbed your shorts off the floor before announcing you were going to get cleaned up quickly.

“Wait, can I make you cum please?” He asked, so softly. You would’ve melted right there and then if it wasn’t for the slight soreness starting to build up in your body. You were sat on his lap for a fair amount of time, feeling him stretching you out, not to mention your adventures from the morning.

“To be honest, I probably can’t go again today.” Hyunjin nodded. “But since we’re out anyway, you can do it anytime you want.”

You mirrored his grin, Hyunjin nodding at you before he let you go clean up the cum now running down your legs.

When you came back out the living room was already clean and organised, Hyunjin even put the blanket and his sweats into the laundry machine.

You wrapped your arms around him, grinning as you pecked his lips again and again and again.

“Do you still love me now that I’m a loser?” He pouted.

You laughed as you started, “you were a lo—“

“—yes, yes,” he rolled his eyes with a groan, “I don’t know why I even asked.”

“I love you still, Jinnie. Maybe even more now.”

“How come?” He asked as he rubbed his nose against yours.

“Because every day I fall more… yeah, no, I can’t say it,” you scrunched your nose up in fake disgust.

“It’s okay, I know you fall in love with me more every day,” he completed the cliche for you with a grin so big little dimples appeared by his eyes.

“Okay, you be the cheesy one, I’ll order some food.”

“No, that’s fine, I can do that—“

“—I am woman. Woman order food,” you mocked him.

Hyunjin laughed at you, his whole face laughing with him, before he pulled you into a hug and squeezed you.

As you ordered the food, Hyunjin sent a message to the group chat.

hyunjin: i’m out.

jisung: already? you suck.

hyunjin: you didn’t last 48 hours!!!

jisung: that’s not what your mum said

chan: please don’t

seungmin: han what does that even mean

minho: eliminated ❌

hyunjin: put my face up in the sky like the hunger games

jeongin: hyungs, sorry but all of us would die in five minutes if we were in the hunger games

chan: yep.

changbin: i wouldn’t

chan: yep!

seungmin: you’d get hungry and die

chan: actually yep to that

changbin: i’d get good sponsors because of my charming looks and they’d feed me forever

felix: yep!!!!

felix: and don’t worry hyunjin, next year you can try again!

several people are typing…

#nnn #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #all.works #skz x y/n #skz x yn #stray kids fics #skz smut #hwang hyunjin fic #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin x reader

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lexyscross · 1 year

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Ghostface killers when they see a button-up shirt or a jacket with plaid on it:

#WEIRDOS. 🤨 (*affectionate)#billy loomis #charlie walker #jill roberts #richie kirsch #ethan landry #ghostface #ghostface club #scream #scream 1996 #scream 4 #scream 2022 #scream 5 #scream vi #scream 6 #scream series #commentary #commentary: scream series #text post

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daenystheedreamer · 23 days

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ok I know we've all talked about it I know but that gif removing the piss filter just reminded me how much I wish the people making asoiaf related media weren't ashamed of it. They do all this weird stuff to mute the colors mute the outfits mute the dialogue because they don't want it to be too weird or whatever. asoiaf is very serious it's extremely serious ok but it is also so vibrant and beautiful and there is an archaic way of speaking a lot of the time and that's part of what makes it such a good world. stop trying to put everyone in black in a scene that is filmed in the middle of night where the goal with dialogue is to see how many times you can say shit!

exactly it's my top 5 biggest criticisms. when GOT was airing, one of the most common praises was that it was 'grounded' and that even though it was fantasy etcetc it was still grounded. and to me that's just nonsense. why must everything be relatable to a modern audience? why cant the world be alien to us? why can't it be fantastical? yes its a little funny (the helms...) but its also just worldbuilding. a lot of it is also commentary. look at all these ridiculously dressed incest freaks in their huge elaborate castles juxtaposed against the fact theyre playing with the lives of peasants.

also why i hate the whole grimdark label. i do think the show can be labelled as grimdark, but not the books. the show, by association, has forced that label onto the books. ASOIAF is a series full of hope and love and light and yeah some silly bullshit but thats what makes it a lived in world with a coherent message. god. scream. death to hbo death to d&d

#ask #Anonymous #asoiaf #game of thrones

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scoobydoodean · 3 months

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ok so I deeply love and respect your thoughts on supernatural because the majority of them line up with what I've been thinking for years but you said something the other day that I keep turning over in my brain and it was something along the lines of carver liking dean more than sam - I know you're in the middle of rewatching s4 but I would love to hear you expound on that (if you have time) because I remember being in the fandom while carvernatural was airing and it was pretty much when the deangirl exodus started. in fact I think people tore into him worse than dabb even 😭

feel free to hold onto this until later when you start the carver seasons if you wish :)

<3 I'll go ahead and answer this one, because it's more of a "broad strokes" thing for me, and I've been rewatching very slowly (on purpose) so that could be a very long wait.

This is so funny because I can just picture Sam fans reading it and turning red and their blood boiling with the fire of a thousand suns but the TL;DR is that season 8-11 (Carver era) broad strokes to me are:

Sam sucks and is a worse brother and person than Dean.

Sam spends the first two seasons of Carver's run thinking he's a better person than Dean anyway and then the second two knowing he sucks, deciding to embrace his moral flexibility to keep Dean alive no matter the cost, and trying to mend things.

Dean is circled by many potential suitors who also in a sense represent Sam replacements because Sam sucks: Benny, Cas, Crowley, and Amara.

Dean knows that Sam sucks and part of him wants to get tf away from him very badly but another part of him feels guilty for wanting that. Family is suffering. Family is a chain around your neck keeping you tied to them via guilt. (Demon Dean represents the desire for escape, as does Amara).

Everybody wants to be with Dean, be Dean, and/or be loved by Dean. Dean is love. Dean is the world. Dean is the reason for existing. Everybody is lovesick about him. Sam is just there.

Sam needs to stop blaming Dean for so many things and learn to own his own choices.

That was fun to write down.

Longer commentary/explanation below the cut.

Season 8 (Carver's first season) literally begins with a Sam character assassination. It begins with us learning that Sam knowingly left Kevin to spend the rest of his life kidnapped and tortured without even telling a soul what happened to him. Not only did he abandon Dean and Cas as well but he didn't even look for them, and refuses to give a satisfying answer as to why.

Season 8 Sam's abandonment as distinct from previous behavior

I have had people this year who I love and respect tell me they don't view this as a character assassination and say they believe this is in character for Sam. I simply do not agree with that. I talk about this as it relates to Kevin here.

Sam has displayed selfishness and a big ego at many points in the series up to season 8. He's told a lot of lies (sometimes to the point of gaslighting), he's gone behind Dean's back to do things that affect Dean's life, he's taken traumatic experiences Dean opened up to him about and ultimately harmed Dean with them, he's shown resentments and anger, he's displayed jealousy, he's displayed a sense of superiority. He has never abandoned his brother to die without even trying. The Sam of season 3 would eviscerate season 8 Sam for this.

Sometimes Sam says and does things he shouldn't, but his crimes do not include "abandoning Dean to die without even looking for him" up to season 8. Many of his crimes happen at least partly because he really really doesn't want Dean to die or is desperate to save his life. He lets go of his anger at John and returns to make sure Dean is safe in 1.11. He refuses to give up and finds a way to save Dean in 1.12. In 1.22, he's willing to put John's life at risk for revenge, but in 2.01 he gets into an outright screaming match with John in the hospital under the belief that John's prioritizing the demon over Dean. Sam spends all of season 3 raging and angst-ing about not being able to save Dean to the point of considering and doing some shady as hell things/abandoning some of his more stalwart moral stances (3.05, 3.11, 3.15, 3.16). Dean's death and later, the desire to secure his safety/future, is one of the catalysts for Sam's descent into drinking demon blood (3.09, 3.16, 4.04, 4.09, 4.12). When he dies in "Swan Song", he urges Dean to pursue a normal, safe, life because he knows that at that point in time, Dean wants to get out but has always felt trapped (2.09, 2.10, 2.20, 3.01, 4.12, 4.16). Even Soulless Sam (who isn't the same as regular Sam) tried to look for Dean in 6.09 "Clap Your Hands If You Believe"—it was simply that when leads for the night dried up, he hooked up with someone because he had nothing more to go on and in soulless Sam's head that was the reasonable thing to do. But soulless Sam also certainly isn't representative of the real Sam—the fact that he doesn't care as much is supposed to point us to differences between him and regular Sam. Season 8 opens with Sam abandoning Dean in a context that makes him arguably worse than his soulless self.

(I talk about why Sam actually abandons everyone in season 8 in a very long post here).

Season 8 and 9 more broadly

So Carver has Sam abandon Dean to die without even trying. Then he has Sam refuse to give any kind of actually reasonable explanation that makes sense to anyone who was paying attention. Then he has Sam say that he's going to leave the life and Dean needs to get over it and accept that Sam's new life will not include contact with Dean (just like his life at Stanford didn't). While saying he's going to leave, he still wants to exert control over Dean's relationships and leverages the threat of leaving (as if he were going to stay) to get Dean to shut up about Sam abandoning him and then again to try and get Dean to cut ties with Benny. He wants to kill Benny before knowing a single thing about him. He assigns someone (Martin) who he knows is mentally unstable and has a more black and white perception of monsters to track Benny and gets Martin killed. He watches Martin knock Dean unconscious and chain him up in a room and doesn't stop it because he wants Benny dead that bad, but then has the audacity to act as if Dean sending him a fake text is worse than Sam literally chaining him up in a room to prevent Sam from killing an innocent person (someone Sam would normally—btw—defend based on episodes like 2.03 and 4.04 or even a few episodes ago with Kate in "Bitten"). He tells Amelia he wants to fight for their relationship then the moment Dan says they should leave the choice to Amelia, he leaves so that it becomes his choice, and then he returns for one episode just to be a homewrecker. He insists on doing The Trials while promising to survive them and giving a big speech about how he's going to save Dean from his own suicidal ideation and then drops the promise as if it never existed two episodes later. Sam loses confidence in himself to complete The Trials and then acts like Dean is the one who doesn't believe in him because Dean is caring for him and insisting he rest and this is an unforgivable offense. At the end of the season, he basically says he's going to commit suicide because Dean has friends besides him. He acts as if he deserves to be Dean's most trusted confidant after an entire season of him being an absolutely fucking terrible brother and acts like Dean is just a big meanie whose feelings are irrational.

After all of this, he has the audacity, in season 9, to suggest that Dean is a bad person who can't stand the thought of being alone. He tells Dean he's the worst person ever and they can only be work partners from now on because Dean is so so bad and evil for stopping him from committing suicide and then not telling him about Gadreel. At the end of the season he admits this was a lie. He just wanted to punish Dean (9.23).

I can see how—if you were watching live at the time (I started watching when season 11 was airing) you'd lose hope. You'd quit the show over all of this, because it seems to go on forever. It's like torture. I would drop kick season 8 Sam into a pit full of lava without hesitation so I get it. If I believed that Carver was actually saying "Yes so true Dean is The Worst™️ and Sam is morally superior <3" for two seasons straight I'd quit the show too. But that isn't what he's saying. We're supposed to read between the lines and realize how unbelievably full of shit Sam is—how deeply selfish and hypocritical he's being. How yes—Dean has made mistakes—but Sam is NOT a better person than him and has gotten away with some absolutely rancid garbage. And season 10 and 11 go on to beat you over the head with it if you didn't get it the first time.

Season 10 and 11

Season 10 opens with this dialogue from a demon:

I heard the rumors. I said "no, that can't be." A Winchester, one of us? But it's true, isn't it? Whatever soul you had; whatever boy scout code you cuddled up to at night; it's all gone. Leaving what? Look at you!

We're meant to think she's talking about Dean who just woke up with black eyes, but then the camera cuts to Sam torturing her, demanding to know where Dean is.

In 10.03, we learn that Sam talked a man (Lester) into selling his soul so he could use him as bait. Demon Dean ends up being assigned to fulfill Lester's deal (to kill his wife for cheating on him). Dean immediately clocks Lester as having cheated on her first and kills Lester for being an insufferable hypocrite... and while he's doing it, I'm pretty sure he's also thinking of Sam's flaming hypocrisy.

SAM: I never meant— DEMON DEAN: Who cares what you meant?! That line that we thought was so clear between us and the things that we hunted, ain’t so clear is it? Wow. You might actually be worse than me! I mean, you took a guy at his lowest, used him, and it cost him his life and his soul. Nice work.

NOTE: 10.03 also recalls 4.21—an episode Sam fans have always tended to emphasize as a "Dean crime" episode where Dean risks Sam's death to force a detox. Sam does the reverse—pumping Dean full of human blood here in 10.03 and explicitly risking his death.

Sam gets Suzie killed in "The Werther Project" while searching for The Book of the Damned.

SAM I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry. SUZIE Lot of good “sorry” does me. Look at me. Look….at….me. [She points to her corpse.] There she is. The first casualty of your misguided mission. But what’s another human life to you? Anything’s worth it, as long as you two make it out alive. And how’s that search going? Any closer to a cure? SAM This isn’t real. You’re not real. SUZIE You think Dean’s the wild card, the loose cannon. But don’t you see? Making deals with witches, opening Pandora’s box down there? You’re the reckless one. You’ll do anything to keep clinging to that doomed brother of yours. How many more will die, Sammy? You know it. You have to be stopped. And the only one who can stop you is you!

A few episodes later, Sam orders Oskar's death for a spell to remove the Mark of Cain. I've seen hilarious posts before about how he had no choice but to do this because MoC Dean is so scawy and bad but that quite explicitly is not his motivation. They could have done so many other things. Throw him into space. Bury him in a really deep hole. Put him in something like The Cage. But Sam didn't like any of those options, because all of them meant being without his brother, and he's realized he doesn't want to be without him no matter the cost (10.18).

SAM So, awhile back, we had a chance to, um…close the gates of Hell. And in order to do that, I would’ve had to die. And, I was okay with that, and I am okay with that, but Dean was not. And so, he uh… CHARLIE He saved you. SAM Yeah, he saved me. CHARLIE And let me guess, in doing so, he did something you didn’t want, and that pissed you off. And you said something that hurt him? SAM Yeah, that sounds about right. [...] SAM You know, when Dean came to get me at school, I-I told myself… one last job, you know? One more job. And then when – when I, um…. When I lost Jess, I, again, told myself one more job. There’s always one more job, you know? And one more job, and one more job, and then I was gonna go back to law and – and to my life. CHARLIE You were the Dread Pirate Roberts of hunting. SAM Yeah. I guess I really understand now that….this is my life. I love it. But I can’t do it without my brother. I don’t want to do it without my brother. And if he’s gone, then I don’t…. CHARLIE I got it. I-I do.

This all culminates in 10.23, where a very mentally unstable MoC Dean attempts to reason with Sam about them both being evil and needing to take themselves out:

DEAN: Remember when we were in that church, making Crowley human, about to close the Gates of Hell? Well, you sure as hell were ready to die for the greater good then. SAM: Yeah, and, Dean, you pulled me back. DEAN: And I was wrong. You were right, Sam. You knew that this world would be better without us in it. SAM: No, no, no, wait a second. You're twisting my words here, Dean. DEAN: Why? Because we -- we track evil and kill it? The family business? Is that it? Look at the tape, Sam. Evil tracks us. And it nukes everything in our vicinity -- our family, our friends. It's time we put a proper name to what we really are and we deal with it. SAM: Wait a second. We are not evil. Listen... We're far from perfect, but we are good. That thing on your arm is evil, but not you, not me. DEAN: I let Rudy die. How was that not evil? I know what I am, Sam. But who were you when you --when you drove that man to sell his soul... Or when you bullied Charlie into getting herself killed? And to what end? A-a good end? A just end? To remove the Mark no matter what the consequences? Sam, how is that not evil? I have this thing on my arm, and you're willing to let the Darkness into the world. SAM: You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way.

Dean is saying a lot of shady shit here, but some of what he's saying... isn't wrong?

Sam is willing to let The Darkness destroy the world, and he does, and then standing in the aftermath of a town being destroyed by the force he unleashed, Sam says:

SAM: I unleashed a force on this world that could destroy it . . . to save you. DEAN: And I told you not to. SAM: And I'd do it again. In a second, I would do it again.

Thousands of people are dying and Sam says he would do it again. This post about Sam's actions versus Dean stopping Sam from closing the gates of hell is highly relevant.

Season 11 continues with Sam taking a little more responsibility for his own decisions, while praying for Dean to live (11.02):

SAM: So . . . I know it's been a long time, but . . . Dean and I, we've -- we've been through a lot of bad. But this is different. This is my fault, and I don't know how to fix it. And if I have to die, I've made my peace with that, but . . . Please. Dean deserves better. Dean deserves a life. There are people out there, good people, who are going to suffer because of me, and I am not asking you to clean up my mess. Hell, I don't even know if you're out there, but . . . If you are . . . And if you can hear me, I, um . . . We need your help, God. We need to know there's hope. We need a sign.

And then there's the VERY long-awaited apology:

SAM When I was with Lucifer, he, um... He showed me things. It was like a highlight reel of my biggest failures. DEAN Yeah, he was messing with you. That's what he does. SAM Give me a sec. I should've looked for you. When you were in Purgatory, I... I should've turned over every stone.

Family (Sam) as chains

While all of this is happening, we also have Benny and Cas and Crowley and Amara.

Benny is contrast—someone whose goodness and selfless loyalty only makes Sam's horrible flaws stand out more sharply in season 8. Under the influence of the specter, Dean says, "Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you have ever been" and Sam can't stand it. It haunts him so bad he tries to kill Benny, and can't get over it even after the end of the season when Benny is fucking dead. He is unable to accept that the contrast between himself and Benny is his own fault.

Crowley and Dean's flirtations begin in season 9, as Sam suffocates Dean, and at the end of the season, Crowley has literally convinced Dean to run away with him. In 10.01, there is a delightful phone call where Crowley rubs it in Sam's face that Dean is with HIM:

SAM I don't know how you did this, what kind of... Black-magic stunt you pulled, but hear me --I will save my brother or die trying. CROWLEY You know what tickles me about all this? It's what's really eating you up. You don't care that he's a demon. Heck, you've been a demon. We've all been demons. No, it's that he's with me and he's having the time of his life. You can't stand the fact that he's mine. SAM He's not your pet. CROWLEY My pet? He's my best friend, my partner in crime. They'll write songs about us, graphic novels. “The Misadventures of Growley and Squirrel." Dean Winchester completes me, and that's what makes you lose your chickens.

It's this cruel callback to Sam's jealousy of Benny and Cas in season 8—how Crowley convinced Dean to finally ditch his smothering, controlling brat of little brother who can't stand him having friends, and now Dean is having the time of his life howling at the moon. The problem is, Dean also feels a little bit like maybe Crowley wants to control him too, and that isn't working for him.

Amara in season 11 goes on to further speak on terrible brothers who think they're better than you, who leave you betrayed and diminished, who abandon you. She's raging against the concept of family as chains—she wants revenge... but all the while she's in pain because she still loves her brother. Amara's attraction to Dean is based on that commonality—what she feels is a shared experience and how she wants to cut the last remaining pieces of love she feels for her brother away so she can finally be free of the pain of him—and she doesn't care if she destroys everything—including herself—in the process. (See: Dean slowly losing his identity through the MoC arc). Sam and Dean's relationship is in rehab over this whole season though, and so Dean's role ends up being to convince Amara not to destroy herself—to instead do what Sam and Dean have done and make up and work on improving their relationship.

#writer disk horse #carver #mail #multiseason #season 8 #season 9 #season 10 #season 11 #sams moral compass #deans moral compass #amara #crowley #benny #charlie #family chains

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algorithmicallywhimsical · 10 months

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There's something about this paragraph in Artificial Condition that makes me reread it a hundred times before I move on:

One by one the file downloads had stopped. One had signaled that it would try to decoy SecUnit attention away from the others, and three acknowledged. One had heard screams from the control center and diverted there to try to save the humans trapped inside, and two acknowledged. One had stayed at the entrance to a corridor to try to buy time to reach SecSystem, and one acknowledged. One reported reaching SecSystem, then nothing.

There's something in the repetition of the word "one," the way it's used to count the loss of life. But also how the word invokes individuality in a series that has so much commentary about personhood. Each ONE makes decisions based on the changing situation. And each time ONE acts, ONE is lost, and every loss hurts so much.

Idk man (gender neutral), I've read this book 17 thousand times but I still need to go stand in the corner and have an emotion.

#there's SO much here about personhood too #and contrasting comfortunit personhood with secunit personhood is so interesting #but is another post entirely #and i imagine has been done already by smarter ppl than me #the murderbot diaries #artificial condition

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onboardsorasora · 16 days

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ahh i love your deaged daniel series!

do max and daniel ever have a get together or play date with sebastian and/or jenson's families? just to give daniel a chance to play with kids his own age and get some energy out

but maybe he's also shy at first and scared to talk to all the new people!

been kinda offline all day, but i had this in the drafts

De-Aged Daniel | De-Aged Daniel Part 11

Max didn’t realize how many drivers had kids. It wasn’t something he went around asking honestly and it also wasn’t any of his business. But after the twitch fiasco, he’d been added to no less than three driver dad group chats.

He’d tried to explain in each one that he wasn’t a father, but Daniel had exchanged bodies. And that, itself caused a whole different level of chaos.

This is how he found himself and Little Daniel walking into a park looking dubiously at the group of men chatting in a circle while their children ran around them.

“Max! You made it!” Seb’s grin was wide as Max settled near to them.

“Well, it's within walking distance of my flat so…” Max shrugged. Little Daniel looked at everyone with wide eyes before shyly tucking his face into Max’s neck.

“Daniel, these are some friends of ours. Do you want to say hi?” Max asked softly.

“Hi…” Daniel whispered into Max’s neck, clutching at his tshirt strongly so Max didn’t get the idea to put him down. He hadn’t been allowed to carry the Max pillow and Daniel had made his objections known with big, watery honey eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Max had bargained that he could wear his race suit instead and that had soothed the savage badger.

“I forgot how shy he used to be. You’d never know now.” Seb mused, Jenson nodded along, clearly remembering how awkward the knobby kneed young Aussie used to be in the paddock.

“Kid was fast though.” Nico pointed out which caused the older drivers to nod again, clearly remembering.

“You hear that Daniel, you were the fastest.” Max said, gaining Little Daniel’s attention. The boy looked at him curiously, tilting his head when Max nodded to the men. “This is Seb, Nico and Jenson. You raced against them and won.”

“Yenshen.” Daniel repeated, looking curiously at the men and biting his fingers. His mouth dropped open when he looked at Seb, as if in recognition.

“Hello old friend. Remember how we stopped biting our fingers?” Seb said softly, reaching to pluck Little Daniel’s fingers from his mouth. Daniel let him, staring into Seb’s bright blue eyes in wonder.

“Do we think he’ll spring back up to normal or will it be another exchange?” Nico asked while Seb kept Little Daniel busy.

“I’m not sure. Grace thinks he’ll exchange his way up.” Max offered with a slight shrug, being careful not to jostle.

“She must remember then.” Seb murmured, fluffing Little Daniel’s hair.

“Seb!” Little Daniel cried out, grabbing at the older man’s palm to keep it from his hair.

“You said he did this before, right?” Jenson asked, grabbing his own son and swinging him on his hip. Little Daniel’s attention latched onto the other boy.

“Yeah, he got overwhelmed after Canada in ‘14. It never lasted this long though.”

Jenson put his son down after his wiggling got too wild and Little Daniel started tapping Max’s shoulder with his ring finger until the older man got the hint. The three drivers watched as Little Daniel clutched at Max’s shirt hem for a second before walking off to the playground with the other kids.

Later that afternoon, it took all of their efforts to corral all the children who had started a game of tag just as the decision to go home had been made. Little Daniel kept running towards Max then away when Max reached down to grab him, laughing his honking giggle and screaming that he was faster. Jenson was able to distract him enough for Max to scoop him up, tickling his belly. They laughed as he squirmed breathlessly.

Little Daniel kept up a running commentary on the walk home, chattering away and telling Max about what he did and how much fun he had. He started flagging once they got to their building and Max was barely able to get him showered, and fed before he was snoozing on the couch. Max smiled at his soft face, slack in sleep. He laid on his stomach, clutching his Max pillow in one hand and hanging the other off the side of the comfortable cushion.

#maxiel #max/daniel #de aged daniel

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georgiapeach30513 · 6 days

Text

Inside Her Fantasy, Part 3

Summary: Ransom just wants to show you off

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.9K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Ransom watches Charlie run around the backyard. Her little legs look like a blur as she flails her arms around, letting out a yell of gibberish. She’s so tiny with such a huge personality, and a bit excited about her visitor that is only coming to see her and Maeve, so she says. He sighs, taking a look at his watch before he’s looking back at the tiny girl.

“What cha waiting on, Ranny?” Bucky teases, but Ransom swats a hand on his arm. “You got it bad. The sex that good?”

“No,” he answers flatly, still watching Charlie. Sex just hadn’t happened, and he didn’t even feel like he needed it. Just you. Eventually it will happen.

“You’re hoping it’ll get better?” Ransom looks towards his best friend and teammate, narrowing his eyes as he shakes his head no. “I’m not sure I follow here, brother.”

“She doesn’t have sex unless she knows it’s love,” Bucky’s mouth falls agape, but his wife playfully smacks his head before placing Nixon in his lap. “What?”

“Ran, I think that’s sweet. At least you know — well, you know,” Ransom’s brows furrows as he looks at the woman confused. “I mean that she’s not just jumping into this. She likes you, and you like her. And you know where you both stand, and you’re not letting anything physical get in between the two of you, and you’re not already bored with her,” Ransom doesn’t want anyone thinking less of you. He’s seen the media. He knows you’ve had various boyfriends, and he knows what everyone thinks. Clearly it’s not what he knows.

“She’s exciting though. I don’t like that her tour is taking her away from me, but it’s almost finished,” he looks back towards the little girl who had lost none of her energy. Opening and closing his mouth while he wonders if he should think out loud, or just vocalize what he’s thinking.

A whirlwind. That’s what the two of you have been. It had been somewhat difficult to keep the budding romance secret, but your team did everything possible for you to spend actual time together. And if you were overseas, it has to be FaceTime. Interference with his season was keeping him from going to you, but he would, as soon as the season was finished.

“I’ve never put this much time in a relationship, and I’ve never been more scared to take something public, while also wanting to protect whatever this is,” Bucky’s wife tilts her head to the side, placing a hand on her husband’s thigh. “I wanna show her off, but our time right now is special. It’s ours.”

“Your such a typical man.”

“Hey!” Bucky protests,

“It’s not a bad thing. Ransom is just feeling some type of way because he can’t let everyone see how happy he is, and who is making him happy. Ran, have you been listening to the game commentary? They know you’re happy. You’re playing better now than you ever have, and the Pats are set to win…”

“AHHH!” Both men scream, putting their hands over their ears. Giggling, Nixon joins in, and even Charlie stops running around to copy everyone’s movement. She had almost said win the Super Bowl, and it’s something neither men liked to say out loud. “It’s bad luck to say that, babe!”

“You two and your superstitions.”

“Shh! Mama, do you hear that?” The adults all freeze, but Ransom jumps up quickly. Jogging towards the gate because he knows that sound. That sound means you. “Daddy, can I say it?” He nods, and Charlie starts chuckling. Covering her hand with her mouth, trying to peak through the gate to see Ransom pick you up, and spin you around. “Yep, he’s got it so bad. Can she have a slumber party again? Can she sleep in my bed again? But instead of Ranny can I sleep in there? Can…”

“Charlie, shh, she really needs to try sleeping in a bed that isn’t a twin size princess bed,” her mother whispers, giving a look back to you and Ransom sweetly kissing before she’s watching her giggly daughter. Hoping Charlie doesn’t watch too long when you and Ransom deepen the kiss.

“He really likes her, mama. Look it, they’re still kissing,” she gives a point over to the two of you, and has to look away quickly.

“Charlotte Barnes, would you stop,” Bucky snickers, shaking his head at Nixon, but Charlie couldn’t be contained. Dropping her whole body on the ground in a fit of laughter. “You two, no. Now Nixie is gone, too. You three are rude. It’s sweet.”

“Daddy, sing that K.I.S.S.I.N.G song again!”

“Don’t you dare, Bucky! Charlie, you keep it up, and Ransom isn’t going to bring her over here anymore,” Charlie sits up a bit. Trying to contain her laughter as much as her little body can, but then she looks to see you jumping in Ransom’s arms. Your own arms wrapped around his neck, continuing the kissing.

“Can they breathe?” Bucky’s head falls back, and he howls in laughter, and the little girl’s chuckles begin again. It’s like a cycle between her and her dad. She just says what Bucky won’t.

“You’re ridiculous. I’m surprised you haven’t brought Maeve out of her hole with this incessant — hey, guys,” you bite your kiss swollen lips, and place your other hand on Ransom’s arm. Fully sinking into him. You didn’t think about the Barnes’ already being out here, and judging by the laughter they saw you and Ransom in just a tiny makeout session. You missed him, and missed his lips.

“Hey, it’s okay. Charlie’s used to seeing people kissing, huh, sister?” Her mom gives you a reassuring smile. Her and Bucky have been together forever, of course she saw them kissing.

“Not like that. Daddy, do you think some football man is going to pick me up and squeeze my butt like that?” Oh my god! Your cheeks fire up in embarrassment and you hide your face completely in Ransom’s arm. His meaty hand presses against your temple in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks, but you feel the rumble of a laugh in his chest. “You do know what a butt is for, right, Ranny?”

“Yes, Charlie, I know that butts are for pooping.”

Bucky clears his throat, as he stands up, saying your name with a friendly nod, “Someone else is very excited to see you again, aren’t ya, Nixie boy?”

“How did,” you never know how to approach the subject of Nixon’s legs. Strong little baby with no movement from his knees down. You could see the pain in Bucky and Sarge’s eyes over their littlest love not being able to walk yet. “I mean it’s not my business, but I — I’ve been thinking about him. And,” Ransom gives the hand he’s holding a slight squeeze, and you stop speaking. Waiting on his parents to clue you in on his latest surgery.

“He still doesn’t seem to have feeling in those legs, huh, Nixie. But he will. We’re going to see him running around like Charlie one day soon. You can hold him again,” just like last time, his nose scrunches up into the sweetest little smile until you reach forward, and pull him out of Bucky’s arms, and into your own. “There, now the men can…”

“Start up the grill, Bucky Barnes. Don’t stand there acting you think the women are going to do the work. I know our babies are hungry, and I’m sure you are, too. Where did you travel from?” Leave it to Sarge to make sure the men aren’t sitting around ‘watching’ the children while you and her cook.

“The last stop was Italy. I’ve got a few days off.”

“And she chose to spend it with us. We’ll play with the kids, you two men can cook,” she wiggles a finger towards you, and you follow her over to the furniture. Slyly looking back at Ransom with a smile. They didn’t treat you like anything but human here. The girls even felt more comfortable around you. “Bucky also makes a delicious margarita. Drink as many as you like, and we’ll make sure you and Ransom get home.”

“Oh, um — well,” you didn’t fully trust yourself alone with Ransom. At least with a pink canopy above your head you could let the hormones rage, and still want to talk with him all night long.

“Charlie’s princess bed still has your name on it. Just make sure you sneak in there after she’s snuck out, okay?” Nodding your head, you give Nixon a quick smooch to his chunky cheeks before you sit down with her, and you realize why she designed her backyard like this. Perfect view of the tall men, and of Charlie who dances around with her ribbon. Putting on a show for you, so you didn’t have to perform. Being with the Barnes just felt like that. No performance. Just you.

There’s something peaceful about this family. They’re normal, but completely get the public persona. They keep things simple, despite their mansion. They give their kids a beautiful life, without spoiling them too much. They love hard, and play harder. The simplicity of being here versus in a city or even on a tour bus is the most comforting thing, and you find yourself snuggling closer into Ransom.

Your legs drape over him as you listen to him and Bucky animatedly talk about the last game or practice. You didn’t even care what they were talking about as long as you could hear his voice, and feel his breath. Your hand rubs over his belly, and you wonder why you couldn’t have found him sooner. Of all the men you’ve dated, none were such a man like Ransom. He is bigger than any of your previous boyfriends. Taller, wider, all man.

Ransom is also successful in his own field. You didn’t feel you were competing with his fame. And he isn’t toxic enough to blame you for his problems or lack of recognition. And this little family — you want to be a part of it so much. Bucky just lets Charlie’s sleeping form squish up against him while he talks, while Sarge cuddles up so close to her little baby. The only person you hadn’t seen the whole day was Maeve.

But right now you hear her. Off in the distance, strumming a guitar, and the softest sweetest singing voice. A voice so tender you crave more. You look up at Ransom, and he offers a smile, but it’s Sarge that uses her head to motion where Maeve is. You hadn’t missed the treehouse on your first visit, but you’d assumed it was Charlie’s. She nods to you, and you get up from Ransom.

Your bare feet carry you softly up a treehouse you wish you had as a child. There isn’t even a ladder, but stairs instead. Her voice gets a bit louder, but there’s an edge of timidness to it. This girl has nothing to be shy about. People would sell their soul to get that soft of a voice.

Peeking your head through the door, you hear her growl in frustration, and lean over to scratch out a few lines before she’s back to strumming her guitar. Memories of you in a studio, even younger than her, doing what you loved, and now wishing you had a normal childhood. Wishing your dad wouldn’t have pushed so hard for you to be the star you are. But then, where would you be? It’s easy to take away moments of your life, but it opens up endless possibilities for your current present life.

You step on a wrong board, and Maeve turns around to look at you, her eyes getting wider before she looks back at her notebook, and sneaks it under her leg. “That board always creaks,” she answers plainly, starting to lay her guitar down.

“Please, don’t stop on my account.”

“I can’t compare to you.”

“The only competition you should have is with yourself. We’re all different. Different lives, different experiences. Those experiences give us our stories. And you take your stories and write?” She shrugs, and her fingers tap on her guitar a moment. “It’s a pretty place you’ve got here.”

“The house was dad’s first big purchase. He’d secured a great contract, and they finally felt comfortable buying the house. Mom was so scared of going back to where we were and in an apartment with Ransom,” you sit down across from her on another beanbag, ready to hear whatever story she wanted to tell you. Charlie never had to see her parents struggle, but Maeve was a part of it.

“I wanted a treehouse so bad, and mom told me to just wait, and we’d get some extra money. Ran, picked me up from school one day, and took me to this place, and he let me design it. Told me I could work it off in songs.”

“You’ve always liked singing?” She shrugs again, but picks up her guitar. Her fingers glide over the strings, and you can tell she tries not to look you in the eye much.

“I liked writing more. Most of the songs are different versions of lyrics to yours.”

“Like a parody?”

She shakes her head no giggling. Strumming a few chords when she looks up at you, “I simplified them for a kid. You would sing about love, I’d sing about playing in the dirt, or begging my dad to buy me a guitar. The melody had the same rhythm. And no, I don’t remember them. I’m sure they have videos of me. It was just us and Ransom for years. Him and dad were unstoppable in the game. Mom became more secure with our finances, and she wanted a baby. And it never happened. They tried, and they cried, and then that hellcat of my sister was born. I was able to bond with her because I could care for her. I’d sneak into her room and sleep on her floor, until she was the one sneaking in my room.”

“It’s a good thing, I guess. Where would Ransom sleep?”

She chuckles, finally meeting your eyes. “He used to sleep on our couch when we lived in an apartment. His chest was where I slept. Everyone took turns raising me, until Mimi stepped in,” you quirk up an eyebrow, wondering who this woman was. “Ransom’s mom. Dad’s parents helped when they could. Mom’s family wanted her to get rid of me, and then kicked her out. Mimi wanted to help, but they wouldn’t let her, so she helped with her time. Pulled some strings and got dad and Ran to meet the right people. He’s very important to us.”

“I can tell. He’s very important to me, too.”

”I can tell,” the two of you sit in silence for a moment. Assessing the situation as much as possible before you point to the notebook under her leg. “I’m just working on something.”

“Can I hear it?”

“It won’t be as good as yours,” you hope this is just a thing with you, and that she didn’t lack that much confidence. Being a teenage girl is so hard.

“Do you believe the words you wrote?” This time she doesn’t shrug, but nods her head. “Then it’s perfect,” deeply sighing she strums her guitar and her soft shy voice sings out a simple but truthful song about some stupid boy. No longer singing about dirt but about emotions and pain. Stopping abruptly in the song before growling again.

“I’m stuck right there. I just can’t get that part right,” you hum a moment. Had memorized the melody that she was playing before her mouth drops open, “You already know it?”

“Not really. But you had a good flow. I liked the bit of a breakdown. What if…”

“I got it!” She yips, going on to pick it up a few bars back, and adds in a cute little line before giggling, and scribbling it down. “Thank you!”

“I didn’t do anything, that was all you.”

“Hey, can you tell mom I’ll be down in about thirty minutes?” That is your cue to leave. You understand when you get in the moment, and need your space to let creativity strike fully. Taking your leave to walk down the stairs, and only Sarge is left putting away a few toys.

“Each man had a kid. Ransom took Nixon. It sounds really cute, but it’s just that he didn’t want to clean up this mess. Putting Nixon to bed is a lot easier than this. You want to grab that trash bag?” Responding with picking it up, you help her stuff the remaining garbage in there, and she chuckles. “I always thought you would be a stuck up princess.”

“Oh, is that what you really thought I would be?” Oddly enough people thought a lot of things about you, but you mostly wanted to be left alone.

“It’s not a you thing. A lot of celebrities don’t look at the wives of football players as anything of importance. I’m okay staying in the background. And well, you — you don’t know how to.”

“Ransom’s teaching me,” she offers you a genuine smile before closing up the shed of toys. “Do you like me?”

“I like you just fine, sweetheart. You gotta understand when he brought you to meet my kids and he shows you’re in a relationship. It's more personal. I have nothing against you in the least bit. But my babies are my priority. Especially the girls. Nixie doesn’t know any better. They loved you as someone they would never meet, and now they really love you as their uncle Ran’s girlfriend. Now can I ask you a question?”

Sighing, you nod your head. She meant a lot to not only Ransom, but his mom. You had grown to have a lot of respect for her, especially knowing what she went through to get where she is. “Do you care about him? I mean really really care about him?”

“Yeah, I really really do.”

“Good. Because that man has been good to me, my husband, and my children. He’s a big brother to me. They’re more than just teammates. They’re life mates. I will never get rid of Ransom, and he’s never getting rid of us. So what is this?”

Looking up at the sky, you try and think of the right words. Choosing to shrug your shoulders when you look back at her, “I don’t know. I like it. I like it so much, and I’ve never felt so — so free. Today was amazing, and we didn’t do anything. There weren't the cars, there wasn't the glamor and the drinking. But it was the most at ease I’ve ever felt. And I just want to protect it.”

“That’s good. Now, can I offer you a piece of advice?” You nod your head, trying to ignore Ransom who had softly said your name out the back door. “Take your time in this way. The moment you two go public you know what’s going to happen. Secure your emotions and relationship before that happens. Make sure he’s ready for your level of fame. This woman you were today is not the persona on the stage.”

She is right. You want to protect whatever is happening between you and Ransom keep the two of you in this safe bubble. You aren’t sure if you want to share him with the world. Just show him off a bit. When you’re ready.

Ransom whistles as he looks around the tight little area. Leaning over behind your tech who is only slightly annoyed, so he pushes Ransom away from him. “Please, don’t ask me what any of these buttons are for. It’s complicated. Sit in that chair, sit on the couch, or…”

“Do I get to go in there with her?” You giggle as the tech turns around to glare at Ransom shaking his head. “Why not?”

“Do you sing?”

“No.”

“Are you offering any sounds for the track?”

“I don’t think I am.”

“Then stay on this side. I don’t need your breathing in the background. Alright, the boyfriend is here. Can we go again?” You want to sing and giggle inside with that word, and Ransom straightens up his posture. That word is getting thrown around a lot more in your inner circle, and you’re loving it. You wait for the ticks of the snare drum before you start singing, and Ransom moves closer to the tech, furrowing his brows, but you’re too into the song.

“Who wrote this?”

“Maybelle Browning.”

“No.”

“Yes. Saw the sheet this morning.”

“No, she didn’t. Maeve Barnes wrote this. Hey,” he walks closer, tapping on the glass, and the tech glares at him.

“She can’t hear you.”

“Stop the recording now!” You glance up at the two men when everything halts. Putting up your headphones, and Ransom says something to your tech before barging into the studio. “What are you doing?”

“Recording a song that Maeve wrote.”

“What? H-h-he said that Maybelle dipshit wrote it. What is going on?” You feel a bit guilty for not explaining the situation to Ransom, but you weren’t sure he would know it was Maeve’s song.

“Ran, Maybelle Browning. M.B. Maeve didn’t want her name on it, but she sent it to me with a recording and said she wrote it for me, but didn’t expect it on the album, but then I asked her if I could record it roughly, and send it to her for consideration. She’s getting full credit. She wants this. I wouldn’t…what — did you think I was stealing from her? I wouldn’t. I adore that little girl, and Ran — don’t be mad.”

“Sorry, I’m very protective of — she gets writing credit? And paid?”

“She’s a minor, so I want her parents present when we discuss that with the lawyers, but if she wants it on the album, I do. But I want her full approval. It’s amazing. Ask Todd. Ran, she is incredible. Did you really think I would do that?” He shakes his head no, pulling you into his body. “You promise?”

“That’s just my girl, and I think she’s the best and deserves the world, so I’ll make sure she gets it. It’s not you, it's this life. I know how brutal things can be.”

“You’re talking to a girl who has re-recorded all my past songs, so now I have ownership of the copyrights. I will make sure she gets the best contract, but I won’t be the only artist that will want her lyrics,” Ransom pulls you back, looking down at you, and you want to melt into him. “You promise you didn’t think I would do that? If I can help her achieve a goal, I want to.”

“No. I think you get taken advantage of enough. I have this need to protect everyone I love — and care about,” he softly slots his lips against yours, and you return the kiss. Snaking your arms up around his neck before he lifts you up off the ground. Wrapping your legs around his waist when the tech leaves.

He might not have said it directly, but he said something. It is enough, you’d been feeling the same things. But now you just don’t know how you can keep this all secret. You want to shout to the world that Ransom Drysdale is your man, and you don’t care about the past drama of exes. You care about his smile, and his scent, his thick fingers entwined into yours.

Your fingers weave through his slicked back hair when he pulls off your lips. “Come to a game,” you smile, shaking your head no. You need to know he’s ready. Privacy will be a thing of the past. “Please, come to a game.”

“Ran…”

“No, excuses. I need you at a game. I need our dates not to be at home, or in recording studios. I need to…”

“Claim me?”

“Something like that. Please, I’ll have a comfy little box. Bring a friend, bring whoever. Just watch me play on something that’s not a television.”

“So you want us to go public before you’ve ever seen me naked?” You wiggle your eyebrows, giving him the sweetest smile. You’ve already decided you want to go. There’s nothing more that you want to do besides see Ransom play.

“If you want me to see what you look like naked, I’ll gladly look. But I can’t stand us not being able to be together in public. I want us to be normal, and do normal couple things, and ride off in a car after the game. Just me and you, baby.”

“You know when you’re with me things will never be normal, right? People are going to dig into everything you’ve done. All your social media posts, all your past girlfriends, everything.”

“I know, buddy, but I don’t care. What I care about is you and me. Why are you smiling at me like that? Is that a yes?” You shake your head no, grinning from ear to ear. That name. He wouldn’t know, “What?”

“You called me buddy. That's what my parents have always called me. It’s just sweet.”

“Ehh, I don’t share nicknames, Bud,” he leans back in, giving you the sweetest kiss before resting his forehead against your own, “So what do you say?”

“I’ll go.”

“Yes!”

“Under one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You come to Rhode Island and meet my mom afterwards,” Ransom gulps loudly, but nods his head. “Hey, I’ve been on your turf, and met the Barnes’, so now it’s your turn. And if you could not get hurt during the game.”

“No promises. It’s football, Bud.”

If silence was a sound it would be now. Putting on a bright smile, you let your bodyguards lead you to the designated area. It takes seconds for people to realize it was you, but it feels like an eternity. A simple outfit, but the Patriots jacket you’re wearing is obvious.

Smiling as you talk to the bodyguard on the right, trying to ignore the questions of why you’re here. “Didn’t Drysdale do an interview saying he was going to give her a bracelet with his number on it at a show?”

“She’s just looking for her next victim to write about.”

“Does she even understand football?”

“She’s made comments about Drysdale, and how he was hot. She always gets what she wants.”

“She’s got an 81 on her bracelet! Oh my god!”

It’s all in the details. Of course you are going to wear something that is a nod to Ransom. They just couldn’t see the other details. Holding your head high as you’re led into the box. Taking a deep breath as you look at Ransom’s stage. Everyone else could make your relationship ugly, but you didn’t have to. You are Ransom Drysdale’s girlfriend, and you’re proud of him, so you deserve to be there just like everyone else. Let the press speculate and gossip. You are here to see your boyfriend.

Trying to ignore the cameras is proving difficult. It is part of your job to notice them. Wishing they would put the cameras on the field. On anything but you. You just want to eat chicken tenders, drink beer, and hang out with the Barnes’. Is that so hard?

It’s everyone else on the team that notices you first. Bucky taps on someone’s chest, pointing up at the box, and even a little wave. It creates a dominos effect with the other teammates. Pointing, and crowing about how Ransom was able to wrangle you.

The coach hits Ransom on the shoulder, turning around to point at the box, and his crystal blue eyes spot you. His mouth turns up into that boyish grin, and he mouths, “I can’t believe she’s here,” winking a bit towards you. His focus completely gone as he smiles at you.

Everyone else’s pointing and comments fade away, and you only see that gorgeously handsome man. Your number 81. Normally you have constant flowing of words in moments like these. Trying to think of how you could tell this story with lyrics, but with Ransom there’s just him and an undeniable invisible string between you.

Each year up until this moment it has gotten shorter. Wound tighter as the two of you are pulled together. Now that string has wrapped around both of your legs, tethering you to the other. Everything else disappears but that string and Ransom. Even when you aren’t with him you feel the tug of needing to be with him.

No wonder you had bad relationships that you wanted to work, but something pulled you away. It was this amazing tie that was bringing you to right now. Right here with Ransom. The world may be watching, but all you see is him.

“I see you, Bud,” he mouths, and you get an ever bigger smile on your face. It’s like this love story was written by divine powers. And written just for you and Ransom.

“I only see you, Ran.”

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @pandaxnienke @kcd15 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @magnificentsaladllama @lokislady82 @rogersbarber

#inside her fantasy #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale fanfic #ransom drysdale fanfics #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale fics #football au #singer au

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saltywritings · 1 year

Text

Petals of the Dragon | Aemond Targaryen x Reader | Part Two

summary: a multipart beauty and the beast au.

part three

series warnings: suggestive commentary, foul language, violence, etc.

in the days that followed you slowly felt comfortable leaving your chambers each day. the time you spent with the beast, aemond as he was referred to often by the furniture that has become your companions, was minimal. something that you were genuinely grateful for. yet, as you strolled across the castle you were unable to keep your curiosity at bay. you wondered what could possibly be hidden away in the west wing of the castle? your feet danced along the stairs quietly, making sure to not pull any attention as you ventured into forbidden territory. once reaching the top of the staircase your eyes were pulled to an open door. there was a part of you that was telling you to flee- to stay away from it. to go before you were caught. for you still had been uncertain what this beast was fully capable of, and yet? you pulled your feet to the open door, head poking in first to assure that he had not been nearby. however, the room was empty. a mess, but empty. the room was warm, perhaps the warmest part in the castle with roaring fire emerging from its fireplace. blankets were torn to shreds and scattered across the room, tossed over furniture, and the remnant of a bed frame was before you in the room. a torn tapestry rested against the wall, clinging onto one another by mere threads. you walked over to threads that clung together, you fingers nimbly held the fabric up to get a better look at what had been torn- and it resembled the beast you had seen in some light. the features were different, but the structure seemed the same. though, your attention was only brought to the tapestry momentarily.

it was only a mater of moments before a glow came upon the room. you turned to see what had been causing this sudden glow in the room and to the side of the bed near the balcony stood a rose on a table, under a glass dome. there had been something unexplainable that allured you to it. a natural pull. a part of you that was unable to resist. for it was only a matter of seconds before your hands were pulling up the glass dome that sheltered the rose; for your eyes looked to its glowing red petals with wonder. you managed to pluck the dome from the table, your eyes full of wonder, and blissfully unaware of the petals that had long wilted from the rose. one of your hands slowly moved to the rose, your fingers almost touching a petal when you felt a hand grab onto your arm. a harsh pull that caused you to stumble back on to the ground. you landed on your bum, looking up as the beast quickly placed the cover back over the rose.

“do you have any idea what you could have done!” the beast snapped turning to face you, towering over you as you attempted to stumble to your feet.

“i-i’m sorry-“ is all you could stutter out.

“i told you to never go to this wing of the castle!” he continued to scream, his face coming closer to yours as you continued to flinch in his presences. before you, aemond had begun wildling flipping over furniture, throwing things from the ground- a black crown tumbling down after.

“stop, please. stop.” you spluttered, beginning to beg now.

“get out!” he hissed, you were frozen for a moment but he repeated himself. “get out!” this time he was screaming and you did not hesitate again. quickly, you left the room. sprinting out of it and down the stairs. you were booking it for the door when you heard the clock, otto as he referred to himself, shout after you. you were rushing past him, knocking him over in your pass.

“where are you going?!” otto shouted, you had reached the door.

“i’m leaving- oath or not, its not worth being locked in here.” you confessed your hand pulling at the handle for the door.

“you can’t leave-“ the candlestick, aegon as he so proudly called himself, called out almost helplessly.

“i’m sorry.” is all you were able to mutter before you went racing from the castle, the cold winter air ate at your skin through your dress.

your fingertips were nearly numb from the cold by the time you manage to pull your horse from the stable. you climbed on the back and attempted to ride far from the castle. in the dark of the night and in the blizzarding snow you attempted to race through the woods. your horse was quickly confused in the night and while you attempted to pull the reigns your horse listened to not commands. this time was short, however. for the growling of the wolves quickly rung in your ear. surrounding your horse had been the pack of wolves. your father once told you that the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. the thought came to your head only to realize how outnumbered you were. as the growling continued your horse took off. wildly thrashing through the woods. you were grasping on for your life. however, there had only been so long you were able to hold onto her before you were sent flying back- and your horse continued on without you.

panic spread across your soft features as the sound of growling grew louder and louder. it was in the pale moon light that you could see the dark wolves closing in on you. quickly, you stood to your feet hands grabbing on a near by branch as you attempted to keep the wolves from you. arms swinging violently as you the wolves nipped the air by your clothing. just missing you as you attempted to keep them away. however, the branch snapped and soon you were face to face with what would likely be your fate. you only hoped that the mother would give you a merciful death if this was the end. if this was how you met the stranger. you covered your face, expecting the worst. however, a loud grunt came from behind you as a yelp came from the wolves. behind you had been the very beast who had entrapped you. his claws coming down to pull the wolves, they bit at him and scratched him as he fought them. you stood in shock as aemond fought off the wolves- watching as they went scurrying away. aemond, however, only looked to you for a moment before he collapsed to the ground. covered in his own blood you rushed to him. there was a part of you telling yourself to leave. but you couldn’t. not after he had saved your life. therefore, you stood beside aemond as you manage to get him back to the castle.

you had aemond resting in a chair by the fireplace, alicent brought you warm water with a rag to help clean aemond’s wounds. the bowl rested in front of you and your hands dipped the cloth into the warm water before you brought it to the wound on aemond’s arm.

“hold still!” you insisted through gritted teeth, finally managing to place it down on the wound once you had a grip of his arm.

“i don’t need your help, you’re just trying to hurt me-” aemond spoke back to you attempting to pull his arm away from your grasp.

“it wouldn’t hurt so much if you would just hold still, i’m only trying to help-“ you were attempting to plead with him but aemond finally sat up in his chair. an ounce of energy overcoming him as he sat up to look at you with a powerful scold.

“i wouldn’t even be in such situation if you had not run away,” aemond attempted to gain the upper hand.

“i wouldn’t have run away if you hadn’t frightened me, if you would have controlled your tempter.” you fought with him, cloth still in hand.

“i forbid you from going to the west wing of the castle,” aemond reminded you.

“you still did not need react that way, aemond.” you scolded, however, the attention shifted.

“what did you say?” the silver haired beast continued to question, you did not answer. “where did you hear that?” he questioned you.

“the furniture, they call you aemond.” you explained, your eyes meeting his. there was a silence that followed as your eyes remained locked to his. “may i call you aemond?” you questioned, aware it had been his name and had begun quite tired of referring to him as a beast.

“you may-“ aemond granted the permission, breaking eye contact with you. carefully, he gave up handing his arm back over to you as you carefully pulled the warm cloth back to his wound.

“thank you, aemond.” you called his name softly. it felt foreign to him. his name coming off of your lips. there was a part of him that softened as you continued. “thank you for saving my life,” you expressed your tender hands continuing to clean his wound.

“you’re welcome, y/n” aemond called to you slumping into the chair slightly as his body relaxed.

you weren’t leaving here anytime soon.

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