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yourmidnightlover · 4 months ago

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control

(forever? pt 2)

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x fem!reader (arranged marriage)

summary: after a rough night with bucky, you wake up alone and get some frustrating news from your beloved husband

warnings: reader is insecure/doubts, not eating for 24 hours (out of protest), kind of controlling bucky, violence, if i missed anything, please let me know!

w/c: 2.7k+

a/n: hiii! this is the second part that was in high demand after i posted forever? i hope y'all like it! this has been sitting in my drafts for what feels like forever and i finally have had a chance to share it with you all! i hope it's worth the wait :)

part 3 -> the story

you woke up alone, just like every morning in the past two months with the exception of the smell of his cologne only a whisper on your bedsheets.

maybe you shouldnt have expected anything else from him. he had just felt bad about what happened, about making you cry, that’s all. he couldn’t have you running out on the deal that was made. he just had to save face. it was all business…

there was another knock on the door. two days in a row, which was rather surprising.

opening the door, you come face to face with bucky’s right hand man, steve. his kind blue eyes shone with a hint of remorse, likely knowing at least a bit of what happened last night from his boss.

“hi,” you smiled, your hand remaining on the doorknob.

“hey,” his eyes examined your face, probably to report back to bucky on how you were doing. as if he couldn’t check on you himself. “are you hungry?”

you turn around to look at the clock that reads 12:30.

“i didn’t realize how late it was,” you shook your head as he chuckled.

“you probably needed the rest after…” he inhaled a sharp breath. “anyway, bucky wants you to head up to the office. told me to make sure you ate too.”

why couldn’t he show you how caring he was?

maybe that’s why he left so early… because he had stuff in the office to take care of. that was what your mind would assume to save your own ego, at least.

he took you by a mom and pop diner around the corner from their office, let you eat as many waffles and pieces of bacon as your heart desired until he discreetly paid the bill and then you made your way to the office to meet with your husband.

stopping outside his door, you heard his voice ringing angry and raging.

“i said to find him. i don’t care if you have to work all day and night to do it. i’m gonna find out where he is. nobody touches what’s mine and gets away with it.”

was he talking about you? or was he talking about another one of his many possessions or assets. either way, with the tone he was talking about everything, even if he was talking about you, he made it seem as though you were merely an object that was in his trophy case. if he was looking for john in order to reprimand him, it was likely to send a message to everyone else that dared look at him. to ensure they didn’t see him as weak.

he would never do anything for you out of the kindness of his heart, surely.

“do whatever needs to be done. end of discussion.” you heard a dial tone end, followed by steve knocking on the door.

“glad you made it safely,” bucky nodded towards steve before glancing at your form tucked behind him. “how’re you feelin’?” you shrugged.

“fine, i guess.”

“thank you, steve,” seemingly dismissing steve, he left the room promptly. “i wanted to talk with you about something.” you remained quiet; he sighed before continuing. “i’ve made some arrangements to get you your own personal bodyguard, for when i’m not around to ensure your safety. they would be ‘round the clock unless approved otherwise or when i’m available to be around you.”

“so i would be watched 24/7?” you finally piped up. “like a child?” you voice was still meek as you mentioned your objection.

“it’s for your safety.” he stepped closer to you, not missing the way your body tensed at the movement. “so that something like what happened last night doesn’t happen again,” his jaw tensed, seemingly at the mention of what happened.

so someone doesn’t touch his precious trophy again, you thought to yourself.

“i’m a grown woman. i barely even leave the house, and you think i need more surveillance?” your brows furrowed together as you shrunk into yourself, your shoulders deflating at the thought of losing even more of yourself to this marriage.

“it happened at our house,” bucky reminded you.

“it happened with you right around the corner, too. y’might as well have a drone following me around at that point,” you scoffed quietly. “what? next i won’t be able to shower by myself.”

“if that’s what it takes to ensure your safety, then that’s what’ll happen.” there was no playfulness or sarcasm in his tone.

“i was joking, you can’t be serious,” you looked at him, feeling stubborn tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“deadly,” he assured you, his brows raised and his serious tone piercing your heart. “whatever it takes.”

you shook your head as you turned to the door. “no.”

your hand reached the doorknob before he added, “i was running this by you as a courtesy. not to get your permission.”

you froze in your steps, turning to him with a questioning look. a couple tears finally broke free from the dam before you responded, “then what was the point?” with that, you walked out of his office, turning to steve. “is it you?” after seeing the tears streaking your face, the choked sobs leaving your throat, he looked to the ground in defeat. you had your answer. and bucky had your freedom in his hand.

you really were just a device for him at this point. you play the part of a loving, devoted wife while he probably does whatever he pleases to maintain his image to the public.

you understood that their businesses were in the public eye and that the news of a finance business being absorbed how it was would draw a lot of attention, but nothing made sense right now. he was being so serious about it all. 24/7 surveillance, a fucking bodyguard… for a finance business merge. it was disheartening, to say the least.

it’s not like you had a say in the matter, anyway. so, steve escorted you safely from the premises back to your gated house, where you locked yourself in your room for the rest of the night.

you didn’t open the door when he tried to ask what you wanted for dinner, or when he tried to give you a sandwich.

you didn’t even open the door when bucky tried to knock himself once he got home at 11p.m.

or in the morning when they tried to give you breakfast.

or at noon when steve insisted on lunch.

“it’s been almost 24 hours since you’ve eaten,” steve sighed from the other side of the door as you sat at your desk, pen doodling meaningless lines in your notebook as you stared at the blank word document. “bucky’s not gonna be happy if he finds out you haven’t been eating or talking or… anything. you know i have to tell him.”

and you stayed quiet.

if he wanted a polite little trophy wife, he would get one. but last time trophy wives were a thing was in the 40s, and they weren’t really allowed to say much, so you figured you’d follow suit.

kind of like your own version of a peaceful protest.

apparently bucky wasn’t very happy about that.

he showed up knocking on your door not 20 minutes after steve tried to insist on lunch again. at least he wasn’t busting the door down, much to your surprise.

“it’s bucky, but i’m sure you’ve figured that out,” his voice rang with a certain softness he had with you only two nights ago. “i told steve to go for a little walk so i could talk with you. i was hoping you’d maybe respond?” he tried to open the door, finding it remained locked. “sweetheart, please just eat something. you haven’t even had water since yesterday. you know you have to drink something.”

you suppose it would look pretty bad for him if his dear wife went to the hospital for dehydration, or starvation for that matter. has the bucky barnes been treating his wife as less than? or has he simply forgotten about his wife? perhaps she’s a weak point for him?

although he probably wouldn’t admit you to the hospital, he’d probably hire someone to come to the house themselves, sworn to secrecy of some sort.

you heard rustling on the other side of the door, not footsteps, more like clothing being rustled followed by a thump. his voice rang out lower on the door when he spoke, “i know you’re not happy about having a bodyguard. i understand, i do. you think your freedom is being tarnished and threatened and this is you trying to control what little you can because of that.”

how can he act like he knows you so well? the man who made it seem as though the marriage would be at least a partnership before the words ‘i do’ were uttered. after the honeymoon a flip must’ve been switched in his brain, telling him you were a little toy for him rather than the partner you had agreed to be.

but, after plenty of time to think, you’ve come to realize that you were being rather selfish. as much as you wanted your freedom. you wanted to stick it to the man and tell him that you deserved respect, because you did.

you also had a duty to your family, to keep them safe. being in this marriage was the only way to do that. and if any questions arose, like bucky’s care for you, then your family would be in danger.

with a click, you unlocked the door. he must’ve heard it because he slowly opened the door and took a step inside your room, a few feet from you.

“i’m sorry,” you looked at the collar of his suit rather than his eyes. “i’ve been acting rash and immature. i apologize for that.”

“i didn’t-”

“i won’t question your authority again,” you were picking at your nails. “i understand that you need steve to make sure nobody harms me to maintain your image. i respect that. i respect your decision.”

you couldn’t bare to look at his face. your gaze shifted to the floor as he began to nod.

“does that mean you’ll eat something?” you nodded, chewing on your lower lip before responding.

“i’m sorry for taking time away from your business,” you moved the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ears, doing anything you could to distract yourself. “i now how valuable your time is.”

“you’re more valuable than all the time i have,” he took a step closer to you before you felt his index finger and thumb gently holding your chin, nudging your head up to look him in the face. “do you understand?” his blue eyes were full of emotion, a mix of them, at that. if you squinted it was almost like there were tears building at the corners of his eyes. but you weren’t squinting anymore. you saw the full picture quite clearly with your eyes wide open.

“i understand,” you nodded curtly.

you did understand.

you understood that he had an image to maintain. that image, for you and your family, was for him to be a devoted, loving husband to his equally loving and devoted wife.

his image is his reputation, and no money in the world could buy the reputation he has.

he let go of your chin, cupping the sides of your face before he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, “i brought your favorite with me. steve’s warmed it up in the microwave for when you’re ready for it. just… eat whatever you can. if you’re still hungry i’d gladly go and grab some more for you.”

“aren’t you going back to the office?” you, voluntarily this time, looked into his eyes with furrowed brows.

“no, my love,” he shook his head before dropping his hands from your face. “i told them i needed to spend the rest of the day with my wife.”

of course. if steve knew about last night, people at the office probably did too. it would look pretty lousy if he didn’t look after his wife after an incident like that.

“oh,” you nodded as you broke eye contact once more. “that sounds nice.”

you followed him downstairs, where steve had already set your food aside for you to start on. not eating for so long truly did affect you more than you thought. you didn’t even realize how hungry you were, finishing the entire meal in less than 15 minutes.

bucky was sitting beside you, eating his own food as he made sure you ate and drank, and noticed when you made a happy plate, and cup, might he happily add.

“wanna go get some more now?” he let his hand float to your hair, raking through your messy locks with a smile growing at the corner of his lips.

“no, that’s okay,” you shook your head, not wawnting to bother him more than necessary.

“if you’re still hungry, then that’s not okay,” you looked to see him shaking his head, his eyes fixed on the dining room table. “c’mon,” he stood from the table, holding his hand out for you to take. “we’re going to get s’more food.”

“will we be going alone?” you let your eyes gravitate to where steve stood in the corner of the room, having not been dismissed by bucky yet.

“steve,” bucky called him over. “you can go home now. i’ve got her. thank you.” he released him from his duties. “now will you come with me?”

you took a second to think. maybe he was a controlling asshole, but what he was doing was for your safety, whether you agreed with it or not. “okay,” you nodded, figuring it was also best you went along with whatever he said. he seemed to get whatever he wanted anyways. “can we just go through a drive through somewhere?”

“if that’s what you want…” he nodded, surprisingly agreeing to your proposal. “where to?”

“... mcdonalds?” you suggested once more.

“of course, my love,” he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, oddly affectionate since nobody was around. “when we get back i’ll arrange hiring a chef for you, as well. i won’t have you going hungry if i can help it.”

“you don’t have to-”

“i will.”

you knew better than to argue. you wouldn’t poke the bear if you could help it. sure, he’s told you he wouldn’t hurt you. you were his wife and if news came out that he had hurt his wife in any way, his reputation would be threatened.

you couldn’t help but remember every warning your friends told you about going into a relationship with this man. warnings about being on your toes, watching your back, never letting your guard down.

in your mind, this was just one more reason you wouldn’t have to leave the house. another little piece of freedom taken from you in a roundabout sense.

“okay,” you nodded, accepting your fate as someone who would eventually be trapped in their house forever.

he took you through the drive through at mcdonald’s, getting you whatever you wanted and an oreo mcflurry. on the way home, eating the mcflurry before it melted, it was a silent ride. and not a very comfortable one, probably due to your suspicions about him wanting to control you.

maybe him controlling you wouldn’t be so bad… he was kind to you, provided for you, made sure you didn’t want for anything. but with that, went a lot of your heart, freedom, and control.

TAGS:

@nefri-black

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes smut #sargeant barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky au #sargeant bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes #mob bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mafia au #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #mafia bucky x you

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novemberheart · 3 months ago

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{overview} Simon makes an upsetting discovery

{warnings} fem reader, poly141, a/b/o dynamics, cursing, angry Simon, fighting

Chapter 13 <- Chapter 14 -> Chapter 15

You didn't see John the next day either. But the thumping and groans had stopped. You could only imagine how exhausted he must have been. Simon took you to his office with him. He could tell how antsy you were for a change of scenery. He didn't pay much attention to you but you entertained yourself by playing on your phone and making a card tower with a deck you had found. You had eaten a big lunch and Simon had dropped you back off at home. You were drifting in and out of sleep when the couch dipped right next to your head. No words were spoken and you were too comfortable to move your head.

A large hand rested against your back rubbing smooth circles. The smell of fog and campfire rolling over you.

“I missed you,” you mumbled. He shifted on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table, and resting his head on the same pillow as yours. His arm went under you, tugging you so you were curled up against his side. He breathed you in, the stiffness in his body already loosening.

“I missed you too.” he sighed contently.

“I dunno. Sounded like you were having fun in there.” you teased. He chuckled, his head resting against yours.

“Sorry, you had to listen to that.”

“I didn't mind.” you said a little too quickly. “I- you know what I mean.” you corrected with a huff. John chuckled again.

“I know what you mean, pretty,” he assured. “How have you been healin’ up?” he questioned, his fingers skimming the area right above your knee. You had almost completely healed since your altercation. Perks of being an omega. There was still a bit of scabbing and redness on your left leg, but everything else had healed in the first three days.

“Good.” you hummed, lifting your leg to show him. “Which is good because now I can focus on getting you better.” you hummed, finally rolling over to face him. Your fingers itched to tangle themselves in his beard but you stopped. Instead, you rested a hand against his firm chest. He grabbed your leg, throwing it over his hips, making you flush. “You can't tell me you're not sore.” you finished, peering up at him with playful eyes.

“You got me there.” he smiled softly. His lips pressed against your forehead before he rested his cheek against the top of your head. The thought of your injuries made the memory of what Anais had said to you a few days ago:

“Well you won't be seeing much of Connoway. He was attacked, his whole face was scratched up and two broken legs.” Anais explained. Your blood ran cold.

“Scratched face?” you questioned.

“And broken legs.” Anais reminded. “Their beta is missing too. No clue where he is.” you swallowed thickly.

You didn't know if you should say anything. You weren't sure what good would come from withholding you knew, but you also weren't sure what harm it would cause either. Yet you were curious. Curious about what your alpha would say to explain his behavior. Curious as to what happened to that beta. Not that it was unjustified. Who knows what those assholes would've done to you if they had succeeded.

“You alright?” John drawled from next to you. You jumped- forgetting he was there. You hummed in assurance, settling on burying your face in his neck. You would be safe with them. That's all you need to know for now.

It was your fault. You had left the paperwork right on the kitchen counter for everyone to see. Simon had come to collect you for breakfast- a bit early admittedly. He could hear music playing from your room, so you must be getting ready for the day.

On the counter, you had left the paperwork the Omega Standards Bureau had wanted you to fill out. Would it really be Simon's fault if he peaked at it? He was on high alert, waiting for the moment your bedroom door would fling open. It took him a second to decode your writing. You didn't refer to them by their names but by their initials. Your try at anonymity he assumed. It was a nice gesture. You weren't waving their lives around. It wasn't till the second line did he get a sour taste in his mouth.

Who are your alpha/s?

The question was straightforward, just trying to get clarification on the pack dynamics. It was your answer.

J.P.

J.P. For John Price. No hint of S.R. anywhere. In fact he was hardly mentioned at all- only when they asked you to list every member of your pack.

He growled lowly, digging in his pocket for a cigarette to calm down. That was bullshit. He had spent the most time with you than anybody. Yes, most of the time he spent pushing your buttons but he had sincerely asked about you. How you ended up in an omega house. He asked about your family. He took you on walks- even in the rain because he knows how much you enjoy it. He could understand if your feelings weren't as strong for him as the others- he's guarded. But to not even be mentioned was a knife to the back.

He was just as much of your alpha as John was.

His growl must've alerted you. You slowly crept open the door, relaxing when you realized it was him.

“Smoking inside? It’s not the 1950s old man.” your smirk slowly fell when something seemed off. “You alright?” you asked a bit nervously. He tapped the counter where you had accidentally left your papers. You gasped quietly. “Those aren't for you, Simon.” you sputtered, quickly working to collect them. You raced back into your bedroom, reappearing just as quickly.

“Breakfast,” he grunted, putting his cigarette out. It didn't do anything to soothe his rattled nerves. It had been a long time since he had been so caught off guard. He thought you two were doing well. He thought he was doing well. Especially considering he was in a coma when they made the decision to add you to the pack.

You wracked your brain for a reason he would be upset. It had been a while since you had updated your paperwork- you think the night before your attack. A familiar uneasiness spread over you. You felt shaky and sick. The thought of someone close to you being unhappy at you twisting your stomach.

“Simon?” you began softly.

“Leave it,” he growled. “Breakfast,” he repeated. You couldn't eat even if you wanted to.

“I haven't updated it for a while. If there was something in there that”-

“Enough.” His tone was borderline vicious. “Your alpha is waiting for you in the cafeteria.” He spat the words like they burned him. They had.

You didn't want to go with him. Your instincts charging through you telling you this was not safe. He was not safe. You shook your head, taking a few cautious steps back towards your door.

He said your name as a warning.

“No.” you had no idea where the force had come from. “Whatever you saw I can explain. Why are you upset?” you demanded.

“Just put your bloody shoes on”-

“No,” you repeated. He snarled, turning on his heels and slamming the front door shut behind him. “Fuck.” you whimpered to yourself. You were shaking at this point, globs of tears spilling over your eyes. You went back into your room looking over your paperwork.

Who is your alpha/s?

J.P.

It clicked.

“Oh no,” you mumbled, flopping down on your bed. Truth be told you didn't really have an explanation for that- and you felt horrible. Simon had been an alpha to you. He protected you. He had taken care of you. He had taken an interest in you. You had opened up to your family about him. And you couldn't even bother to write his initials down.

The only explanation you had was the limited amount of time you had spent on the paperwork. You had given one-sentence answers for every question and hadn't taken it seriously. It never occurred to you that someone from your pack would read it.

“You alright, Bon?” you jumped as Johnny’s knuckles grazed against your doorframe. You wiped your tears quickly, but it was useless.

“No,” you mumbled pitifully. He came to immediately, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you into his lap. “I upset Simon,” you uttered.

“Peaches, I do that every day, twice a day”-

“No,” you interjected. “In the paperwork Kate gave me to fill out it asked who my alphas were and I just put John- and Simon saw that,” you explained. You sniffled, pressing yourself deeper into the Scot's chest. He was quiet for a moment. A long moment.

“Well I'm going to be honest, hen. I would be steamin’ too.” The honesty hurt. You pulled yourself away, but he quickly pulled you back. “He won't be steamin’ for long, though. He just needs a moment to himself and then he’ll be ready to talk.” Johnny explained. You had no choice but to trust the beta. He had seen Simon upset before, he knew how his mind worked.

“Wondering when you'd get back,” Johnny spoke, pushing Simon's bedroom door closed. He grunted in response, tugging his balaclava off and throwing it in his hamper. The scot made himself at home in his bed, taking up most of it. “Wanna talk about it?” he hummed.

“Nothin’ to talk about,” Simon replied coldly. Johnny sighed, sitting up.

“We both know that's no”-

“It doesn't matter, Johnny,” Simon cut off. “Now I'm relieved from having to put any more effort into that”-

“Simon,” Johnny warned.

“It's true,” Simon continued. “She just wants one alpha- one alpha she’ll get.”

“Simon you know that not how she fee”-

“It is.” Simon spat. “And that's fine with me. I mean what good is she doing anyways? We’ve had to change our schedule, our lives, our home to fit her, and for what? So we can heal a bit faster. She's not worth the trouble we’re puttin’ in.”

“You’re out of your mind.” Johnny snarled back, growing more and more defensive over you. Johnny moved from the bed heading towards the door, bumping into it when he realized he hadn't closed it all the way. He quickly heard your door shut.

His heart fell into his stomach.

You had heard that, didn't you?

Ohhhhh Simon! What are we going to do with you? Guess you’ll find out in three days for Chapter 15!!!!

Thank you for interacting with this post! 🧡

Dividers are by @cafekitsune

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cer-rata · 7 months ago

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An incomplete but very angry diatribe about the missed potential of the Star Sapphires

So back in the day Geoff Johns and co decided to open up the Green Lantern mythos and add some more flavor and expand the concept of sci-fi tech powered by elemental emotion to more than just willpower. Which yes, is not an emotion, we ignore it and move on.

Anyway we got some really cool stuff! A rage tyrant fueled by experiencing incredible injustice on a personal and cosmic scale, whose vendetta twisted him into something terrible. An avatar of greed who was never allowed to have anything, not freedom, not family, not safety, who takes and takes and takes to fill a void that can never be satisfied. A priest who lost everything but presses on through his unshakable hope that the future can and will be better. It's a lot of fun stuff!

So in this great creative re-imagining, they had to do something clever and fun with the idea of an all female corps powered by love right? They took the opportunity to move past the purely romantic, sexual idea of love and the obsessed femme fatale archetype, because they had the chance to really explore different types of affection now that there were a bunch of different avatars with different stories to pull from right?

Right?

Nope! The only Sapphires we ever learn about are heartbroken over a cursed romance like Carol, grieving a dead fiance like Miri Riam, forcibly mind controlled to be one like Fatality, or just Miss Bloss who...kind of said she wanted to join up? No clue what her deal is, as far as I'm aware that's never really explained. And then we just never learn about anyone else, and still haven't. The hell is "The Lost Sapphire"? No idea, we'll likely never know.

It's frustrating because not only is this a glaring example of the depth of plotlines offered to women in comics compared to their male counterparts, but also a wild lack of imagination. Love is one of the most complicated emotions we experience. Fear, anger, hope, all pretty easy to quickly define. Love is multifaceted, cultural, incredibly contextual and a factor in so many different kinds of relationship. Just thinking logically it should be much easier to flesh out the motivations of a group pulling from such a nuanced source of power, versus something as clear-cut as rage. But no, the red lanterns got so many varied reasons for their rage, the male ones especially: Bleez being the woman was of course given the SA narrative, which I don't think is inappropriate on its own, that's an incredibly valid reason to be angry, but as the ONLY truly prominent female Red Lantern it's like...c'mon guys. But still, at least she and Atrocitus had different reasons for becoming what they are, and that variation was played for plot and drama.

But there's not a single Star Sapphire that personally champions something other than romantic love. And before you shoot me, it is explicitly mentioned that they DO protect other forms of love, so there's no reason for them to all be sexy and obsessed with kissing people. There are no Sapphires that are driven by:

The love of their children and families, even in a tragic sense, like Atrocitus and Saint Walker and Larfleez are...

Their love of their people, or their culture. It would have been interesting if Fatality was inducted BECAUSE of her pain at losing her world, but no, they just...replaced her anger with lovey vibes and called it a day.

Their love for nature. Not everyone is social, but social love isn't the only way to strongly experience the emotion.

Their love for themselves. Where is the fun narcissistic ass who loves their own self image to the point of getting powers? It would have been a fun twist and a cool way to get another villainous Sapphire if you wanted to.

Their platonic love of ANYTHING really. Are ace/aro people just...not capable of love then? It doesn't mean anything to be willing to drive cross country to help a friend move just because they needed it and you care? No? You need to be fucking for it to count?

It's like...fascinating if you really think about it. In this vast fantasy universe full of alien races with wildly different perceptions and life cycles, and where the other corps have plenty of non-human, truly alien looking members, that the women's only love corps is full of only hot hot scantily clad baddies. Most love that people experience in their lives isn't even romantic! You will have far more experiences with friends and family members and even loving strangers than you will have with romantic partners.

Like the reason is clearly sexism, duh, but we know sexism is bad, that's obvious, what I really want to make clear is how much this blatant, unexplored sexism just completely desecrated the potential of the worldbuilding here.

From another angle even: Let's say this this WAS the sex and romance all the time corps. Let's say that you wanted to keep it all women. I hate the idea that women are capable of love in a way that men aren't, that's such a bad take and just regressive and unhelpful, but let's just play ball for a moment. They're not even hot? Their designs are such ridiculously narrow versions of feminine attractiveness that they're not even successful at really being mass appeal sexy. I haven't even reached the point of complaining about the fatphobia and criminal lack of different body types yet, I'm still just saying that from the standpoint of fantasy sexy it's not even good at being stereotypical offensive fantasy sexy. It's just boring! They're all so visually boring! You can be scantily clad and still have an interesting and coherent character design! But that is not what they gave these women! They actually redesigned the classic Star Sapphire costume and made it MORE sexist and boring:

Yeah it was cheesy but it was also cute and fun? The design is playful classic sci-fi girl and this is when she was still a dangerous unhinged villain. Its fun to look at and feels tonally coherent next to Green Lantern.

And then they just...

No actually, I will not explain this one, you have eyes.

And yeah they fixed her costume finally,

But! She's still stuck as Hal Jordan's romantic punching bag, and has not gotten to have any new adventures on her own.

So.

What I'm saying is it's a flop all around. 2/10, and only because despite everything Fatality STILL managed to serve. I actually think that all of the corps have been poorly used since blackest night, even the greens actually, but they never even gave the Sapphires a chance. They last showed up in...a WW annual I think? During the whole dark gods event, they needed Diana to help them fight the evil god of love, and there was a guy in the corp finally, and they talked about sisterhood and then we haven't heard a peep from them since. I think Carol might be due to get her ring back in the GL ongoing but she's not really been treated well so far, so I'm not hopeful for anything fresh and well reasoned.

So my lovely ladies (and that one unnamed guy), until they let you get it together it may be time to

#dc comics #comics meta #hal jordan #green lantern #star sapphire #carol ferris #fatality #atrocitus #larfleeze #saint walker #sexism #shut up cerata #dc editorial answer for your crimes #get off of my lawn

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miller-n-morgan-2 · 1 month ago

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Take Me Home

5. Blood Stains

Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader

A/n: HEY GUYS I AM BACK WITH A DOOSIE. okay so my fashion show was fantastic, let me know if y'all wanna see a video of my collection i think it turned out pretty damn good. anyways, wrote this while crocked off my ass on Benadryl bc allergy season is hitting very very hard right now so if it's not perfect we are all going to collectively blame the Benadryl, okay? okay.

Summary: An accident in the laundry causes chaos in the camp, and secrets are revealed sooner than expected. With everyone else acting like the world is caving in, Arthur steps up as usual.

Warnings: misogyny, major gender role tropes, a little bit of personal violation, but very minor. Susan is a bitch in this chapter (we love Susan). Blood plays a lot into this chapter, and so do menstrual cycles, so if you're uncomfortable with those mentions, this may be a skippable chapter for you. There's also like some sexual implications but nothing inherently sexual happens. I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything.

WC: 7.8k

“Climb up, let’s go to town before closing time,” he walked around to the other side where his horse was hitched from earlier today, still saddled since Bill hadn’t made his rounds yet. You complied, but were unsure of the motives for such a trip. “Is Dutch paying you to take me somewhere? He want you to kill me quietly?”

In the weeks since John’s disappearance, you’ve noticed three things:

One, Dutch hasn’t barely been seen in the camp, and when he makes his presence known, it’s either angry or forlorn. Two, the entire gang has been very quiet, not wanting to set off Dutch, or make anyone else upset with the matter. Three, Arthur has done as he said he would, becoming closer with Abigail, and helping nightly with Jack.

It shouldn’t break your heart, because you had no right for it to. You shouldn’t be distancing yourself from the both of them, they didn’t do anything to deserve it, but the way your chest tightened by watching them, watching Arthur gently place a hand on her shoulder as he watched Jack squirm in her arms was far too miserable. Abigail won’t speak of it, knowing that everyone has been on edge since her former lover left, but she missed the talks and conversations you held. You understood her, and though she didn’t exactly know the truth as to why, she was still partially in grief over that bond, too.

Arthur takes immediate notice, but doesn’t say anything. Hosea had mentioned your run in with John the evening he took off. He figured you needed time to cope with the situation, even if you didn’t know John all that well, or even like him for that matter. Everyone in camp was dealing with it differently, so why should he judge the way you handled yourself?

It was only when you stopped talking to him altogether that he became slightly concerned, and he wasn’t the only one.

When Dutch first brought you into the gang, he knew there was some subtle competition with you and Arthur. The two fastest guns in the west, hell, maybe even the world… but you butted heads often. He didn’t know why it had suddenly stopped, but his concern grew from being in both your presences at the same time, and the icy feeling he got just from standing between you, running over job details in a tent.

It was like Arthur didn’t exist to you anymore. Everything you said and did was conveyed to the people around him, but never to him. You would even give news to a big group of people to avoid telling Arthur directly.

Dutch knew there was something wrong, because he could have sworn you both were inches away from getting along, but now it was worse than square one. It was after a successful job that he said something about it. After you had deliberately handed Arthur’s cut to Javier and told him to give it to the next man over.

You’d ridden back, safe and sound, but Dutch held you back, nodding the others away from the horse troughs.

“Talk with me for a bit, will ya son?” He tried to approach the situation gently. This couldn’t have been a gradual thing.

“F’course,” you muttered, hands resting on your gun belt as you followed him into the center of camp.

“I’ve been noticing some… strange behavior from you towards Arthur. Only lately…” he scratched his head, looking at you expectantly. “You can tell me if he did somethin’ to piss you off, I’ll speak with him about it.”

You furrowed your brow and shook your head. “He didn’t do nothin’ to piss me off… I’ve just always been better off on my own, don’t wanna rely on anyone.”

“I can understand that sentiment, but it doesn’t make any damn sense as to why you’re givin’ him the cold shoulder,” he furthered his point, and you didn’t have any choice but to make something else up. Something that could actually be worth what you were doing to Arthur. Your head told you that the truth of ‘I’m actually a young woman and I’m catching feelings for your gang enforcer’ wouldn’t help you.

“He’s been tryna hold me back,” you sighed out, as if revealing some huge secret. It was partially true, but you’d grown more relaxed about the protection Arthur had been trying to provide. Still, you kept on the charade, knowing it would get you out of this situation free and clear. “M’tired of him thinkin’ I can’t keep up, tired of feelin’ like a helpless kid next to ‘im.”

Dutch let out a breath and narrowed his eyes. “I see… and so you figured it best to keep him out of arm’s reach, is that it?”

“Guess so,” you shrugged, leaning against the pole of his big tent.

And then it seemed that Dutch saw this as a teaching moment, because he nodded for you to sit down on one of the cross latch boxes, across from where he stood. He had a whole spiel oncoming, and you were almost sure you knew what it would contain. Something about the camp being a family, everyone sticking together and more nonsense of the like.

“You don’t understand this now, because you’ve never had a time of need in this gang… but that day will come,” he paused, and you perhaps had it all wrong, listening intently now. He pointed in the direction of Arthur’s camp set up, and you glanced over, not for the first time that day. He was tired, hunched over his cot and leaning in exhaustion, running his hand over his face. “And when you are in that time of need, there is no better man to have in your corner than Arthur Morgan.”

You nodded in understanding, a small frown on your face. You wanted to protect yourself, but if what Dutch says is true, you’re only setting yourself up for failure.

“He’s been here a long time, and no matter your opinion of him, no matter the things you do or the things you say, he’s loyal. It ain’t up to me what you decide to do, but you should know, he’s the best ally you’re ever gonna have.”

And just like that, you regretted the past weeks. Everything you did to avoid him, getting up early to grab some of the coffee before he came by. Going out and hunting without letting anyone know, just so that he didn’t have a chance to come with you. Even going as far as to mend your own clothing and do your own laundry, knowing he might catch you at one of the girl’s stations while picking up your weekly wears. You felt awful. You remembered at least four times he tried to approach you before he just gave up. At the time you were grateful, because you thought it was making things easier for you, but in actuality, the things Dutch said were true. You needed him in your corner. There would be a time of need, and Arthur was the best ally to have when that time would come, whatever it may be.

“I think I oughta go set things right, then,” you let out, your ego deflating slightly when your eyes met Dutch again.

“If you think it’s best,” he nodded, switching places with you and watching you walk over to his favored outlaw, the man he called his son. He called you son, too. You wondered if that would hold up if he ever found out about you.

Arthur was on the verge of sleep, but you were doing this now. You could apologize later.

“You look like shit,” you tried to be nonchalant, and not bring any emotion into this.

When he looked up, he was slightly annoyed, but his face softened once he looked at you for a moment.

“Feel like shit,” he grumbled, trying to understand what you were doing here. You didn’t exactly give him reason to believe he was important to you anymore. “Did you need something?”

You kicked the dirt beneath your boot, trying to keep yourself composed, but you weren’t too good at these things, and the amount of shear stiffness in your body wasn’t helping you to relax about it.

“I think I owe you an apology,” you started, and he tilted his head in slight confusion. Sure, he knew what you were apologizing for, but he didn’t know why. “I’ve been avoidin’ you, n’ I shouldn’t have.”

He nodded in thanks, accepting your words. You stood awkwardly, unsure if you should say more or just leave, but when you turned your boot to walk, he stopped you.

“Did I piss you off or somethin’?”

Why was everyone asking that?

“No, ain’t nothing you did. Just my own stupid ass and things that don’t matter,” you told him. You felt even worse now, because you’d made both him and Dutch think that it was something he did wrong. He could rarely do any wrong in your eyes, which made this whole ordeal that much worse.

“Matters enough, you stopped talking to me. Couldn’t even get you to look my way.”

You didn’t want him to know anything else. With him and Abigail rapidly forming a blossoming relationship, it wasn’t for you to stand in their way. Jack needed a father figure, and Arthur was the perfect candidate.

“I’m sorry about it. I swear it won’t happen again,” you really wanted to leave this time, unsure of how far it may go in the event of a deep conversation… but he caught your wrist and gently tugged it back towards where he sat as soon as you started turning away again.

“You gotta give me somethin’, Red. I’ve waited weeks just to ask you,” he pleaded, his tired eyes looking through you and trying to enter your mind. You caved just as soon as you saw how badly this affected him. You hurt him. He might be big, burly, and dangerous… but he bleeds, and his heart can be wounded as easily as anyone else’s.

“I’ve been going through some things, and you’ve had a lot on your plate with Jack and Abigail. It’s not fair of me to make my burdens your burdens… I was tryna keep you out of it,” you admitted, which was only half true. The partial truths of the night were stacking up, but fortunately he couldn’t tell the difference right now, too tired and unfocused to really study your features and what you were hiding.

“Red,” he sighed, not yet prying for more information, but giving you one last glance. “You can tell me things. Remember that.”

You nodded, smiling at him for the first time since John left. “Alright.”

You stopped avoiding and ignoring Arthur, but things were still distant. You’d been getting close right after Jack was born, but going into his third month in the world, you two were miles apart. Still, it was better than the stone cold facade you’d been turning to him before.

“Got any laundry?” Susan asked, breaking you out of your trance as you watched the sun setting. You weren’t really paying much attention, but nodded, reaching behind you into your tent for a sheet full of worn out and dirty clothing. You should have looked it over, but you didn’t, too caught up in your own mind. “You can ask the girls about getting it back tomorrow, they’ve been going stir crazy for things to do.”

“Yes ma’am,” you nodded, tipping your hat and leaning back against your small tent’s middle pole. You had half a mind to slide your hat over your eyes for a nap, but that didn’t seem like it would fly, especially if one of the others needed you for something.

You could definitely use a nap, you were cramping like crazy. You swore if Bill came up to you and asked for any more favors with the damn horses this week you’d kill him, but only because you were feeling grumpy.

You wanted so badly to confide in Arthur about these things, the troubles of womanhood that you couldn’t share with anyone else but him. You wondered if he would ever tell anyone, since it’s been almost five months of your residence and you have yet to reveal your secrets to everyone else. Maybe you were being paranoid, but the closer he got to Abigail and the further you pushed him away, you thought he might care less about the agreement you both made. After all, spilling your secret to Dutch would gain him loyalty points, and Dutch seemed all too happy to be giving them out since John left.

It was about an hour later when there was a shriek at the other side of camp, and many ran over to see what the trouble was.

Tilly had been sitting by her wash bin, but had pulled her hands out on account of one thing.

“What’s the matter, Tilly?” you heard Sean over your shoulder, and when you finally saw the trouble your eyes widened and you muttered a single word under your breath.

“Shit.”

“What’s shit?” Arthur’s voice was also heard beside you now, and you turned to him ever so slightly with a whisper.

“Me, I’m in deep shit.”

Tilly showed everyone the water, with some clothing swirling around, but it was all tinted red.

“I think someone’s been hurt,” she said, waving over Mrs. Grimshaw to show her the problem. “There’s blood in the water.”

You tried to casually back up slowly, hoping that it wouldn’t get traced back to you, after all, the clothing in the bin was yours, and Mrs. Grimshaw had just picked up the pile from you. You were just stupid enough to leave your monthly attire in with it, and during your monthly time, too. You were only two days into the cycle, meaning there had been a lot of blood.

Grimshaw, being the stern and impatient woman she was, rolled her sleeves up and dug around in the water, looking for clothing with holes to indicate a stab or bullet wound… but she only found:

“A sanitary apron?” She furrowed her brows. She was pretty in tune with the women of the camp, and hadn’t been aware that someone was menstruating right now.

“You better run, kid,” Arthur caught on, nudging your shoulder. You’d already started getting further away from the scene, but it seemed Grimshaw already came to a conclusion before you could make a break for it.

“I picked these up from…” she trailed, her brow now seemingly angry and strewn together in a stressful manner. She marched over to you, grabbing your lanky wrist harshly and tugging you away from the scene. “You better not be hidin’ what I think you’re hidin’!”

You held onto your hat as she practically ran you into the nearest tent. It wasn’t hers or yours but that didn’t matter, her urgency was all too apparent.

“Miss Grimshaw, what’s this all about?”

“I have had my suspicions about you since you arrived here,” she spoke intensely, pulling you forward by your belt buckle and doing her best to undo it.

“Hey, hey! What’re ya doin’?!” You tried to protest, but her nimble hands were too persistent, and she finally got your pants loose enough to take a brief peek at what she needed to see. “What the hell, would you stop?!”

“I knew it!” she yelled, a finger pointed in the air.

And just like that, you knew you were screwed.

She quickly ran out of the tent, and you tried to follow her, making a quick attempt at putting your belt back together on the way out.

Arthur ran a hand over his face when first he saw you, and the state you were in. He knew the jig was up, too.

“Where is that man when you need him?” Susan was turning every which way, a mess of herself just trying to frantically look for the camp leader.

“Dutch? He’s in town with Hosea, what’s the problem?” Bill sauntered up, dusting his hands from the work he’d paused.

Pearson and Javier all of a sudden made an appearance, and when you thought nothing could make this worse, the rest of the camp zoned in on the chaos, having had nothing better to do this whole day. It was slow, and there were no jobs to be done, so the boredom consumed minds jumped on the first sign of entertainment they could find, and boy was it something.

“We have an imposter in our midst!” She yelled, her arms waving around wildly.

“Hold on, now…” You tried to interject, but Arthur shot you a look, shaking his head. Don’t do it, kid. Just shut up.

“What do you mean an imposter?” Pearson crossed his arms. He was never one to give bad news of any kind to, because he had a tendency to blow it out of proportion. “Who?”

“That,” she pointed at you, her voice raised to the highest decibel count you knew was humanly possible. “Is not an eighteen year old boy! She has been fooling us all. Who even knows where she comes from, what her real name is!”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

“The kid?”

“Ain’t no way…”

The rapid responses coming forward almost eased your mind, except for the fact that Susan did in fact have up close and personal proof from what she saw.

Arthur stepped forward, and as the murmurs grew louder, and Miss Grimshaw was prepared to go on another rant, he did all he could to calm the situation.

“Let’s not make any rash judgements right now,” he gave you a look, trying to let you see he was attempting to help, but that you needed to leave. “We’ll just wait until Dutch and Hosea get back.”

You took that as a cue to leave, awkwardly making way for your tent.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Susan tried to chase after you, but Arthur held her back.

“Wait for Dutch,” he said, his arm blocking her path. Who knows what she’d do in this state? She’d been known to whip some of the boys into compliance before, who knows what she’d do to someone she viewed as an imposter.

Sitting with the flaps closed, you could still hear everything that was occurring outside, and it nerved you far more than being in the middle of it all.

“It doesn’t make any sense…” and “Do you think it’s true?” could be heard from separate conversations, and you wished more than anything that you’d just done your own damn laundry.

Your face fell in your hands, and you started going over all the things that could happen. Dutch could hate you for lying to him, and kick you out, banishing you as far as you could go. Or, since you were a newbie, and didn’t have the trust factor built yet, maybe they would just shoot you dead. That may have been an extreme idea, but with your rapidly beating heart and increasing worry, things like that were bound to spill in. Not like you’d been in a gang before, you didn’t exactly get an etiquette and rule book when you arrived. Who knew what would happen to you. Nothing good, that you knew.

When Arthur finally opened the flap and leaned down inside the small dwelling, you knew it was time to face the music.

“Dutch is back, Susan’s tellin’ him everything,” he sighed, looking over your face and feeling a sense of guilt that he didn’t do anything to stop all of this. When you first arrived he thought maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal, but having experienced this much drama in just the past hour has most definitely led him to believe he was wrong.

When you stayed silent, and didn’t really give him a reaction of any kind, he could tell you were hit hard with the anxiety and shock of it all. He couldn’t ever get you to shut up, and he often didn’t want to, most of all now when you looked like a scared animal.

“I ain’t gonna let ‘em hurt ya, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You shook your head, and against your hardest efforts, tears were backing your eyes, looking for ways to escape. He hadn’t ever seen you like this, and it wasn’t pleasant.

“I don’t wanna leave,” you admitted. You liked it here. You weren’t lonely here, and you had a family… or at least you did an hour ago. You didn’t know where you stood with half of these people.

He couldn’t speak for Dutch or Hosea, or anyone else really, but he could speak for himself.

“I don’t want you to, either…”

When Arthur heard his name called, he leaned back, looking in the direction of his father figure, looking angrier than a pack of hungry wolves.

“Yeah?”

“Tell Brooks to see me, now.”

You didn’t even need the message relayed. You stood up, and followed Arthur out of the tent, your head down as you made the distance to the center tent, the big one you’d been at only a bit ago with council from your leader. You only hoped he’d be so forgiving when he found out you lied to him.

Arthur got into the tent first, mumbling a few things you were a little distracted to hear. You did catch the small ‘don’t be too hard on her’ fall from his mouth, though.

You sat down on the box chest, close to the exit of the tent, just in case things went south and you had to run. Not that you were thinking about running, but again, a million scenarios crossed your mind.

“Arthur, wait outside.”

You grew more tense as soon as those words were uttered, and so did Arthur it would seem.

“Dutch, I think I should-”

“Wait. Outside.”

He reluctantly did as he was told, walking far enough away that he wouldn’t be reprimanded, but still in your eye-line so he could keep an eye on you. He trusted Dutch with the gang members, but if he was considering kicking you out, that made you fair game.

“I’m gonna cut to the chase,” he took a long drag of the cigar he held between his fingers, blowing the smoke out when he turned his head to the side. “You know why you’re here.”

“I reckon I do,” you answered quietly, trying to keep an ounce of confidence though your entire body felt like it would start shaking in fear.

“I could have you stripped for the whole camp to see, but for propriety’s sake I’m only going to ask you this once… is it true?” He asked, his tone less stern but still eager.

“Yes.”

He sighed, having heard the softness in your voice since you came in, he already knew. You’d never shown this side of yourself to the camp before. You were always confident, sure of yourself, cocky even. To think it was an act boiled his skin… but he wanted to take his time with this. You still had capabilities the likes he’s never seen, and if he wasn’t careful they could one day be used against him. You didn’t know about the O’Driscolls yet, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have you running off and joining them. It would be the death of the Van Der Linde gang, of that he was certain.

“I’m gonna decide what to do with you, but until then, you stay out of my sight.”

He pointed outside of the tent, and you were honestly surprised that this was the extent of his questioning. Nothing about the lies? About the history? About anything at all?

You gave him a double glance, but scurried away in fears he might change his mind and tear you to shreds on the spot. You walked hastily towards Arthur, your face gaining more color to it once you were out of the line of danger.

“You alright?” He asked, his furrowed brows reflecting his concern.

“No,” you let out with a dramatic scoff. Your flare for over exaggeration was sometimes quite amusing to him. He just dropped his head and chuckled.

“You’re fine,” he patted your shoulder before stepping past you and going to talk to Dutch. What he knows is that Susan Grimshaw spilled every nasty detail of this afternoon to the camp leader, but he also knows that he hasn’t had his say yet, and when it comes down to it, Dutch will side with his loyal enforcer over a disgruntled Miss Grimshaw.

Dutch was stretching out his arms, sore from the ride in and out of town. It was a scouting trip, really, but it was enough to make him ache when all the stress was added.

“First John leaving, now this. I can’t seem to catch a break, can I?” Dutch sighed out after his words, the toll they took on his mind caused him to shake his head of so many thoughts.

“This ain’t so bad,” Arthur began, tilting his head from side to side.

“How could you possibly think that?”

Arthur shrugged, reasoning with himself a few options before saying them out loud.

“S’not like she did any harm. Only thing that’s come of it is a bit of surprise to everyone…” he trailed, sitting across from the man he called his father figure and his friend. The tension seemed to ease up the second he neared the man, but there was more to be done to diffuse the situation, and he was all too happy to insert himself as the cause of said diffusion.

“She lied about who she is, for all we know she could be working with local law, or worse, the pinkertons.”

Dutch’s raised concerns nearly made Arthur chuckle. When you first got here, facade or not, you were still just lost and looking for somewhere to call home. There were never any motives behind your gang participation other than needing a family.

“We haven’t had them on our trail in ages. Coming here, we finally put a stop to their sniffin’ around. Besides, she’s been the reason for our successful jobs lately… she’s been loyal enough to save my life despite our differences.”

“But she lied to us,” Dutch kept driving his point. A liar’s a liar, and they lie about other things.

“She’s a scared kid, Dutch. She just wants a place to be,” Arthur defended, his arguments becoming more close and personal, which led Dutch to connect some other dots.

He sighed, looking at Arthur and coming to an understanding of what he knew were past events.

“You knew, didn’t you?”

Arthur dropped his head into a subtle nod, not yet meeting Dutch’s eyes for his fear of a bad reaction.

“Since the week she got here.”

Dutch had to laugh, because of course he did. Arthur was more in tune with the members of camp than he could ever be, and more than they could be with each other. He was like Hosea that way, his ability to connect and grow relationships with others was just a natural gift. He often thought it stemmed from Arthur’s great love of the unknown, and his endless curiosity.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“I didn’t, until I found some uh… rather feminine items in her saddle bag. She fessed up pretty quickly to me,” Arthur scratched the back of his neck, his nerves settling when he knew he wouldn’t be in any trouble.

“Well,” Dutch started, coming to the edge of his open tent, looking for the troubled recruit among the busy movement of the camp. “We’ve taken in much worse, and it’s always been in our favor. And you’re right… She's just a scared kid. A scared kid with the quickest hands I’ve ever seen.”

There was a moment, and then Arthur smiled.

“So… She’s free n’ clear?” He asked, his tone hopeful, which Dutch noticed. Perhaps Red had made amends after all, and just as Dutch promised, Arthur was in her corner. This wasn’t her time of need, per se, but he knew she would have him when it arrived.

“I suppose so, although… I’m not going to be responsible for the court of public opinion,” he gestured to everyone in the camp, frantically working around just to keep themselves busy. With all the chaos going on, it’s the only thing they can do not to sit and gossip, which they do anyway.

“I reckon I better keep her away from Susan?”

“With a ten foot pole, preferably,” Dutch rolled his eyes. That woman was full of determination, and it could be both a great strength, as well as her worst weakness.

Arthur smiled, ready to go make good on a promise he’d been waiting on for some time. “I’ll catch you later then.”

“Alright, Arthur.”

You didn’t know if Arthur’s conversation with Dutch would benefit you or condemn you, but you didn’t stick around to find out. He’d found you saddling your horse, just in case a hasty escape needed to be made. Yes, perhaps your delusions were getting a bit out of hand.

“Where you goin’?”

“Depends,” you started, “How mad is he?”

Arthur huffed and grabbed your wrist, stilling your movements. “He ain’t mad.”

“No?” You could hardly believe it. “He seemed riled up to me.”

“I talked to him,” he explained, but gave no further intel.

“You got magic words or somethin’?” You chuckled, slightly more relaxed since the news came better than you hoped, and Arthur wasn’t dragging you back to be punished or anything. “What’d you tell him?”

“That you were gonna be loyal… and that you’d been scared.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, trying to play off his last words like they weren’t true. “I ain’t scared.”

“Really? You were about to run, weren’t you?” He pointed to your full saddle bag and stocked up horse, ready to disappear at a moment’s notice.

You caved.

“He gave me a little fright is all,” you toed your boot into the dirt as you spoke, looking back up to find him nodding at your horse.

“Climb up, let’s go to town before closing time,” he walked around to the other side where his horse was hitched from earlier today, still saddled since Bill hadn’t made his rounds yet.

You complied, but were unsure of the motives for such a trip.

“Is Dutch paying you to take me somewhere? He want you to kill me quietly?”

It was just a joke, but he was getting tired of the overly dramatic interactions. He wasn’t sure what all transpired in your past, albeit knowing more than everyone else… even still, he figured there had to be something that gave you your theatrical touch.

“Knock it off, would ya?”

“Sorry.”

The ride wasn’t long, but the sun was down when you both tied your horses to the poll in front of the general store. You’d been in here a few times, and the man behind the counter always cowered in fear of Texas Red the unkillable. No matter your manners or gentility, that’s just how it was.

“What’re we doin’ here?” You adjusted your hat, wiping some sweat off your forehead and following him up the front steps.

“I remember sayin’ I’d get you a dress a while back, we’re here to make good on it.”

You stopped in your tracks, a wide smile blossoming on your face when you heard him say it. He’d remembered, and been waiting for it since the night he uttered the words.

He noticed you weren’t close behind him, and turned, catching the sweet expression you wore, but brushing it off with a sideways smile.

“C’mon now, gotta pick it out.”

You followed after him, and once inside, the man behind the counter seemed to be nervous, as usual. He didn’t seem to be weary of having you both in, just a bit anxious. Arthur knew his presence held power, but he figured with your reputation in this town, and others around… your presence was bound to hold more.

“What can I do for you? Need more socks?” The man asked you kindly, and you shook your head, a small laugh escaping you.

“No, we’re uh… we’re here to get a dress for my wife,” Arthur spoke evenly, his confidence showing through when he had to put on a show.

Your head snapped to him, and though you knew he was intending to buy the dress for you, a thought sprang into your mind. Abigail. She was going to be his wife.

This sweet little moment, with Arthur keeping his promise, and making a big to-do over your acceptance into camp, was all part of your own little fantasy. It wouldn’t last, and when you returned to camp, he’d be with her again, helping with Jack. You tried to shake the thought from your mind, wanting to enjoy this sliver of time with him.

“Of course! I’ve got a new selection,” he pulled out the catalog, and opened the pages to a section with different types of skirts, petticoats, chemises, and corsets. All were beautiful, but your eye was drawn to a more simple style. It was a work dress, which would be far more practical for you than any of the other ones.

“I’m not too good with all this. What do you think, Red? Which one would she like best?” He tossed you a smirk, leaning his elbow on the counter while he let you browse over the pages a bit longer, turning them over with a furrowed brow of focus.

“What color does this one come in?” You asked the man over the counter, keeping your act up, but letting your hints of excitement show through.

“That one is a nice pale blue, perfect for spring and summer time,” he spoke firmly, becoming more relaxed the longer you both were in the store. Yes, he’d heard the whispers, and for you, he’d actually seen your acts of a quick trigger. But here, you didn’t seem like a threat, so he stopped acting like you were.

“Blue, huh… Might bring out her eyes a bit, hey Arthur?” Now it was your turn to smirk, and he chuckled, nodding back to you and tapping the page twice with a heavy finger.

“You’re right it would, make em’ look like crystal,” he played along, making you blush under the brim of your hat, unbeknownst to the man behind the counter.

“It’s gotta be that one, then.”

Arthur chuckled, counting out the cash that the dress price was listed under, tossing it down on the counter and nodding to the man.

“You heard the kid, we’ll take that one,” he spoke in a playful tone, ignoring the movements of the man as he scurried to the back rooms, getting your dress pieces together.

Arthur lifted the brim of your hat, and smiled genuinely at the look on your face. It was excited, sweet, and grateful. He wanted to buy you the entire stock of the store just to ensure that look stayed on your face, no matter the irrationality of it. He’d become quite accustomed to giving you his time and his efforts, and this was no different. The only difference is that now he wanted to, wholeheartedly. The deal you’d struck with him, the one where you were going to teach him your methods of shooting faster, were now null and void. He didn’t want to take anything from you, he just wanted to give.

When the store worker returned with a large box in hand, Arthur thanked him for his time, carrying the thing over his shoulder and heading for the door, which you opened for him.

Getting outside, you went for the horses, but he stopped you with a swat of your hand away from the reins.

“Can’t go back yet, gotta see how this looks on ya,” he insisted, nodding for you to follow him yet again. He walked for a bit before coming up on the shed with a small lantern inside. It looked like it only housed tools and ropes and things of the like, but there was space enough to change in. “Came across this when I was out one day. Took a whole nap before someone realized I was in here.”

“How convenient,” you teased, taking the box from his hands and eagerly walking into the confined space.

“I’ll be out here,” he mumbled as you shut the door, putting a shovel against it since it didn’t really even close all the way.

You knew he wasn’t the peeping type, so you began tearing away at your clothes, the ones that had been worn completely through by now and needed replacing anyway. You had more back at camp, but you had always missed dresses. This would be the first of many you would probably buy for yourself, but it was going to remain your favorite, because of who it came from.

It was just like clock work, muscle memory helping you to remember all the little ties and snaps that needed to be in place, the corset laces that needed to be pulled enough to fit the outer fabrics. You knew you probably needed a good hair brushing and face washing to actually look like a young woman again, but for now, the dress was doing wonders on your self esteem… or at least it did until you realized you couldn’t finish putting it on by yourself. The buttons on the back went up higher than your shoulder blades, and sat in a near impossible spot to reach. If there was a mirror, you could probably just contort yourself enough to get it together, but in a dark, barely lit tool shed, your options were limited.

You sighed, pulling the shovel away from the door and peaking your head outside. Arthur had nearly gone through an entire cigarette in the time you took to change.

“Arthur?” You asked timidly.

“M’here, you alright?”

“I can’t reach the back,” you admitted, just slightly embarrassed. “Can you give me a hand?”

He was all too happy to comply, stomping out the cigarette on the ground and taking quick steps to reach you. “Turn around.”

You did as he told you, turning so he had access to the open back of the dress. He couldn’t see you all too well in this light, but even from what he could see, a few words entered his mind from a past conversation you had with him.

I used to be quite the stunner… and he surely believed it.

His fingers caressed the exposed skin of your back before buttoning the fabric closed, smoothing it down over your shoulders and watching the way it fit you perfectly.

“Don’t mention this to Abigail,” you joked, turning back around and trying to keep the mood light. It was beginning to feel too intimate, and you knew you couldn’t allow yourself to feel that way with Arthur anymore.

“Why?”

“Well, I might be a bit old fashioned, but isn’t it frowned upon for a taken man to be helping another woman with her dress?”

It was just another joke, but he seemed to be completely thrown off by the implications.

“I ain’t a taken man,” he confessed, looking at you with a stare that was all too deep, and all too consuming. He needed to stop that, but you didn’t have the heart to make him.

“Not yet,” you corrected, but again it was you in the wrong.

“No,” he shook his head, trying to bring a serious tone to the conversation. “I’m not gonna marry Abigail.”

Your face screwed up in confusion, thinking about all the times when he collapsed in her tent with Jack, just to get up and help him in the night. He was Jack’s new father, wasn’t he? That was the deal he made.

“Why not? I thought that you were- well since you were helping with Jack and… what about your deal?”

“I said I was gonna do right by this boy, and I am… But Abigail won’t have me,” he shrugged, admitting to the rejection she gave of his offer. “She’s still in love with John, n’ I can understand it.”

It should have made you feel a bit of sadness, to know that even with all that Arthur was, someone would turn him away like that. ‘Abigial won’t have me’ sounded like perhaps he thought himself not good enough, just as he always does. Despite all of this, you didn’t feel sorrow, you felt an abundance of joy. A wide smile spread across your cheeks, and he furrowed his brow.

“What’re you smilin’ about?”

“Nothing,” you dropped the smile and shook it off, running a hand up his arm and giving it a sincere squeeze. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I know you’ve meant well.”

“S’alright. Hosea’s been tellin’ me since Jack was born that I shouldn’t have offered. He doesn’t think we’re right for one another, somethin’ like that.”

“I agree, you’re not right for each other,” you spoke out loud, though that thought was meant only for your head.

Arthur seemed to be catching on slightly to your behavior, stepping a bit closer and staring downwards at you.

“Yeah? And who am I right for?” He teased, watching the redness of your cheeks spread down your neck and shoulders with every breath you took.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out,” you did your best to counter his taunts, stepping away from him and going to collect your old clothes from the shed. Once they were in hand you turned back to the opening of the alley, making way for the horses. “You coming?”

And of course, he followed, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath.

The next day fared better than you thought it would, if you’re being honest.

You didn’t really know why, if Dutch had said anything, or if Hosea did, but after you returned to camp the previous night, everyone seemed to be acting just fine. They treated you differently for sure, but not badly. In fact, you noticed the men had a certain kind of reverence to you that they never held before. The same they did with the other women.

Maybe it was just the beautiful dress that Arthur bought for you, the light and pure color of it giving you a sense of being ethereal, having finally exposed the raw feminine beauty that was hiding for so long. You reckon you’d even start growing out your hair again, as the short style coming to your chin was not how you preferred to have it in the first place.

You still went to work doing the same tasks you normally did, but were careful not to rip your dress or over-exert yourself, given you were still in the same physical condition as the day before.

“Charl- I mean, Miss Brooks?”

You heard a voice chirp softly from beside you, and you dropped the wagon supplies for now to walk over to the owner of said voice, Tilly.

“Yes, Miss Tilly?” You extended a smile, and she smiled back, albeit a tight and awkward one from where she was sitting. You took a step or two closer, and she had to shake her head after getting a better look at you.

“I just-” she cut herself short on account of the words already jumbling in her head. “I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between us.”

You furrowed your brow to her, unsure of what she could have possibly meant.

“Why would there be?”

“Well, if you can recall,” she started, a nervous chuckle in her speech. “I tried to make some… advances towards you. Back when I thought you were uh… a young man.”

You smiled again and ducked your head, a scoff of laughter and a nod of your head brought about less tension. It was no big deal.

“Don’t worry yourself, Miss Tilly. I was the one who tricked ya, I oughta be apologizing. Probably should to Abigail, too.”

“Abigail?”

You tilted your head, recalling the scene. About two weeks before Jack was born. You’d done the same thing Arthur did, with not a care of revealing yourself in the future.

“Before John even left, I offered her to be Jack’s ‘father’ when he was born. I guess I was pretty certain at the time no one was gonna find out,” you explained, leaning against the wagon she sat by, mending a shirt that looked like Arthur’s. You could tell by the wear and tear around the shoulders, where his broadness likely just caused the fabric to break down faster.

“Could you really have gone on like that?”

“I don’t know,” you pondered, another small laugh escaping you. “Maybe not, since I had to tell everyone I was eighteen just for them to believe it.”

“You aren’t eighteen?” She seemed surprised. Maybe you just had a young face.

“No, ma’am. Twenty two nearing twenty three as a matter of fact.”

“I’ll say,” she tutted, throwing down the shirt she was finished with, and picking up a new one. “You had us all convinced. Makes me wonder where you really came from.”

You thought about telling her, but the story was long and today was a busier day than before. There was actual work to be done in preparing for the next job, a few days ahead.

“Some place I didn’t wanna be,” you chided, stepping away from the wagon, nodding to her in thanks for the small chat. “I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Alright. I’ll catch you around,” she spoke sweetly, a kind look of relaxation on her face, now that she knew where she stood.

You went back to work, making sure that neither Dutch nor Hosea saw you with idle hands today. You wanted to make sure that no matter what happened now, you wouldn’t be cast aside. You still had the abilities they needed, but with a skirt on your hips, they saw you differently, and it was up to you to show them you were not going to be ignored when it came to jobs in the future.

You hated that the rest of the women in camp were just seen as stationary helpers, only capable of mending clothes or cleaning up the camp, or even just laying the groundwork in town for the men to actually pull jobs. You’ve seen Abigail in action, she was smart and cunning and had a great way with words, she could be the difference in things staying civil or having a shoot out during a quiet robbery, but the men overlook her gifts. You know the women in this camp have great potential, and perhaps if they let you continue as you have been, they will open the opportunities for the others as well.

Tags: @photo1030 @sheepdogchick @snoopysshark @strvberrydoll @yyiikes @phantasyy @puffyhairedhipster @scorpio-echo @hollyskjlap

#arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan x you

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months ago

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am i the asshole for yelling at my friend when i found out he had sex in my car?

i (26f) lived with my friend John (26m) when we were in college. John didnt have a car, but i did so i did most of the driving when we needed groceries/whatever we needed to go out for (it was a college town so it was mostly walkable, so we didnt need to drive every day). i have issues with other people using my car, especially when im not there (if anything goes wrong id rather it be my fault than have to deal with someone else totaling my car). but John had a girlfriend (Sarah) who also didnt have a car, so he would sometimes borrow my car (with my permission ofc, he never took it without me knowing) to take her on dates. when they were gone, i would constantly be nervous that something went wrong. there would be times they would go to a movie, then they would be gone for longer than the movie's runtime and i would get so anxious that something happened, then find out that they had just gone shopping/to dinner/etc after the movie ended. i never bothered saying anything because i didnt want to seem like a control freak saying "you can only borrow my car if you tell me exactly what you're doing and when you'll be back"

anyways, fast forward to now. i got a new car a couple years ago, John and i no longer live together (not because of any problems, we just got our own places after we graduated), and he is still with Sarah. one day John, Sarah, a few of our other friends, and i were all hanging out.

then at one point, Sarah made a joke about having sex in the car after Yesterday (the beatles movie from a few years ago). then i said "hold on, didnt you guys borrow my car to see that movie?" and everyone got really quiet. i turned to John and said "you had sex in my car???" and he tried to laugh it off but didnt deny it. and i got MAD. i was yelling at him and admittedly was pretty harsh (like calling him insensitive for violating my trust & property)

he said something along the lines of "i'm sorry, but it was a long time ago and theres nothing i can do to change it, and you dont even have the car anymore" and i realized he was right, and that screaming at him wasnt going to accomplish anything, but i was still mad so i left and went home

i asked some of my friends that were there if i was being crazy, and they basically said that it was understandable that i was mad, but yelling at him in front of everyone just made them uncomfortable and killed the vibe for the rest of the night, and there was nothing any of us could do about it now. no one told me how Sarah reacted, but she has really bad anxiety so knowing her, im guessing she didnt take it well that i got mad about something she said, and i do feel bad about that (though, in fairness, i assume she knows common decency and would know that having sex in someone else's car is wrong)

anyways, i dont think im the asshole because i think i have a right to be upset about that, and even though it was a long time ago i JUST found out about it so it wasnt that long ago for me. but i know i might be the asshole just because i yelled at John in front of our friends and made everyone uncomfortable over something that he can't do anything about anymore, and since i dont even have that car anymore, it has no impact on my life

tldr: my friend had sex in my car years ago and i found out about it and tried to fight with him about it in front of a bunch of our other friends, and it made everyone uncomfortable. so, am i the asshole for getting angry years after my friend had sex in my car? 🚗

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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so-much-for-the-seashells · 5 months ago

Text

Always

Dean Winchester (Supernatural) x GN!Hunter!Reader

Disclaimers: The only character I own is the reader insert.

Author’s Notes: I’m writing this the day after I swore I’d never do angst. Ironic, huh. I’m working on getting more power across in my words- hopefully that shows.

Anyhow, this is set after <S2 SPOILER> John dies saving Dean. Obviously, given the nature of his passing, Dean can’t talk to Sam about it- but in this story he has someone he can talk to.

Icons by @gosling-girlx !! ❤️❤️

As always, all notes are very much appreciated!

Content/Content Warnings: This is angst at its finest. A 16+ audience would be preferred on this piece.

“What if, for just once in your life, you manned up and actually talked to me?” My voice is loud. It’s booming, and it’s borderline angry. My hands are balled into fists at my sides, and my jaws clenched.

I’m just so done. I try so hard with Dean, and I’m always patient. When he doesn’t want to talk, I don’t pry. I’m there for him whenever he needs me, however he needs me, wherever, at any hour, without so much as a second thought. I’ve never faulted him for not being able to say “I love you,” or for not being gentle when I need him to be. And I will always do these things.

But I am not okay with being told to “Stop fucking doing that,” ‘that’ being me trying to ask him if he’s okay. I let him get away with a lot of things, maybe more than I should, but outright cussing and waving me off? That’s too much.

So fine. We’ve been yelling at each other at least ten minutes now. Far too loud for a shitty motel with paper thin walls, surely, but right now I need him not only to hear me, but to listen to me.

He’s stood down after that last question. His shoulders slumped from their tense posture, his jaw no longer clenched. He’s trying so hard to retain his scowl, but I see the tick in the corner of his mouth. I see the way that his beautiful green eyes start to water.

No matter what cruel things he said to me, I refused to retaliate. He can swear at me all he wants, but he won’t get the same treatment in return. Because nothing can take down the thick walls of the elder Winchester like human decency. Something he’s never properly gotten from anyone- his own father included in that omniscient “anyone.”

“So?” I ask, my hands still fists. I won’t back down until he does, I can’t give him the chance to roll his eyes and turn away like he would with anyone else.

“I-,” his voice gets caught in his throat. “Cause I’m no man, sweetheart. Certainly not man enough for you.”

“Cut the shit, Dean,” the swear slipped out of my lips before I could stop him. I see him flinch, and my heart pangs, fists unclench. Suddenly, I’m not so fired up. “Sorry, sorry. Listen, this isn’t about what you are for me. Because if it was, we wouldn’t be fighting. You’re perfect for me, Dean.”

“Just-,” I stop myself, moving back to sit on one of the dingy hotel beds with its ugly orange gingham duvet. I sit cross-legged, back against the flat puke-green pillows propped against the headboard, looking up at Dean who is still standing in the same spot like a statue. “C’mere,” I pat the bed gently.

He obeys wordlessly, a listless quality to the way he drags his feet to where I’m sat. He doesn’t sit, though, a clear tentativity in his watery eyes. “Dean, it’s okay.”

Okay to cry, I want to add.

Okay to feel.

Okay to be human.

He sighs. “I’m just not good at talking, Y/n. I never had anyone to talk to- my dad was my boss more than anything, I had to- have to- be strong for my brother, and anyone else who’s come into my life seems to fit into one of those two categories.” A singular, perfect tear runs down his face. His expression is stony, but his voice… while as deep as always, it has a broken quality to it, something he’s trying to hide.

“Dean. I’m not anyone. You can talk to me, you can be broken with me,” I urge, mentally willing him to come sit by me so I can touch him, hug him, anything.

Finally, he sits. I don’t reach out to touch him, not yet. He looks shaky.

“Listen. I know Sam’s been up your ass trying to get you to talk about him. I know aren’t big on touchy feely stuff, and I ain’t gonna push you. But I need you to stop lashing out at me when I ask you if you’re okay.”

His cheeks are flushed, eyes wide. His lower lip quivers, finally breaking his scowl. A sad, splintered chuckle leaves his lips. “Y’know, he’d do the same to me. I’d ask, sometimes, after a real bad hunt, and he’d lash out… I’m too much like him, y/n. That’s why I don’t want to talk about him.” His voice is just a little too steady, almost artificial.

“You’re not too much like him, not at all,” I say, reaching out to him, but stopping before my hand can touch his. I’m letting him be the one to pull the trigger, to decide if he wants physical touch right now. “You’re better than he could’ve ever hoped to be, Dean. He knew that. Sam knows that. I know that.”

And that’s what breaks the dam, tears freely falling down his stubbled cheeks. He takes my hand in his, holding tight before I tug at him, inviting him to lay in my lap. He obliges, head resting in my lap. I take initiative to run my fingers through his hair, something that I’ve found soothes him.

“I just-,” his voice is broken, there’s no hiding it now. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” I murmur. “I just want to help you be okay, that’s all.”

We sit like that for a while, his head in my lap as he cries. He doesn’t sob, but occasionally choked up noises escape him, and it breaks my heart seeing him like this. Eventually, I find it in myself to speak again.

“I know he never really said it, Dean. But he loved you, he did. He trusted you. He was thankful for you,” I tell him, wiping some of the tears off of his face.

John Winchester might’ve been a sorry excuse for a man after Mary died, fine.

But it was clear that he loved his boys, especially Dean, even if it was in his own fucked up way.

I hated the Winchester father. Quite frankly, I still do. For the way that he had put revenge in front of the care of his kids, for the way he treated his kids, even into their adulthood. I mean, making an eight year old take care of a four year old? How bad of a father can you be?

He’s a son of a bitch. But in the end, even though the bastard never once validated his elder son (nor his younger)- and he should’ve- he died for Dean. And I know Dean’ll blame himself for it. But the fact that his dad loved him… that might be enough to make the self-resentment more lenient. That and the fact that he has me.

I won’t let him hate himself or feel unloved. I think John knew that- that Dean would have far better support if he was gone. I’m know he knew how much Dean respected and idolized him, but I also know damn well that he knew damn well that he was not good enough for his son. Not nearly good enough.

So hopefully, between me and Sam, we can mend the hole in his heart. Help him feel whole again.

But for now he needs this. To cry, to feel. Something he never felt he could, not in the presence of anyone else.

Gradually the tears slow to a stop. He sniffles, wiping his face, but not moving his head from my lap. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“Always,” I lean down and kiss him on the forehead. “I mean that.”

“I love you.”

There’s no stutter or pause in his words. He’s said them, plain and simple, as if this isn’t the first time he’s been able to get the words out. I guess it’s my turn to cry, because I feel a tear trickle down my face, landing on his. He grins a crooked grin at that. “Is it that bad a fate?” he jokes.

“No, no,” I choke on my laugh. “I love you too.”

And sure, there’s going to be more nights like these. Nights where we fight, and maybe sometimes they won’t end so well, so neatly.

There’s going to be more fights. Stupid fights, nasty fights.

But there will also be more I love yous. More holding. More feeling.

And no matter what happens, I’ll be there for Dean Winchester. Always. And I mean that.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester angst #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction

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norahastuff · 2 years ago

Text

There’s a lot to like about The Winchesters, but I think one of the reasons it hits so hard for me is that it solves my biggest problem with the finale. Personally, I don’t have a problem with tragic endings. The season 5 finale of Spn has a tragic ending, and I think it’s a wonderful feat of storytelling. Aside from the fact that 15x20 tried to pretend it wasn’t tragic and tried to make it seem like Sam and Dean standing alone on a bridge in Heaven was a happy ending, what I hated most about the finale was they had to flatten Dean into a two-dimensional caricature of himself to do it. Aside from maybe the revelation that Dean stood outside Sam’s apartment at Stanford for hours trying to psych himself up to go in because he was nervous Sam would turn him away, there was no moment in the episode that Dean felt like the complex, nuanced character we had come to know and love over the past 15 seasons. He had no desires or characterisation beyond pie, car and Sammy. There was no sign of all the growth we’ve seen from him, no hint of his own needs, wants or sense of self. I mean, he wasn’t even allowed to interact with his own heaven before Sam showed up. Even after his death, he was never allowed to have anything that was just his.

Look, I’ve said all this a hundred times before – if you look at my 15x20 tag, it’s basically just this sentiment repeated over and over again – so why am I saying it again now? Well, because The Winchesters is fixing that. The mission Dean is on is all his. It’s not about Sam, or pie or whatever surface level bullshit that finale tried to boil Dean down to. He’s going back to the past, he’s meddling in something insane because he sees value in it, and in the process going on a journey to understand himself better. His narration makes it pretty clear that through this quest he’s learning to contextualise his own life and feelings better. The past presents the future, after all (full disclosure, that’s an Ugly Betty episode title that I just really loved and use far too often in casual conversation), and one of the biggest hang ups in Dean’s life was that he was given this mythologised version of events and expected to believe them. Mary was this perfect saintly mother who sat at home baking cookies all day before she was brutally, and through no fault of her own, ripped away from them. John was the perfect mild-mannered husband and father who only slid into anger and obsession after he lost his perfect wife.

Eventually Dean realises that none of that is true. Mary couldn’t cook. She was a hunter. She was involved in the circumstances that brought about her own death. She was a complicated person, and in the end he got the chance to see that knowing the real her, flaws and all, was infinitely superior to believing the white-washed fairytale about the perfect martyr that John created after she died. There’s also the fact that John was never the perfect husband or father, even before Mary’s death. We get maybe one reference to that in Spn, how in Dean’s heaven in season 5 he remembers John and Mary fighting and John moving out for a few days, but not much else. The focus is very much on how John turned into a neglectful parent and an angry man after Mary’s death. But The Winchesters is working hard to dispel that lie. John always had this anger in him. Mary even calls him out multiple times on how he’s using her and their relationship as an excuse to avoid his issues. She straight up uses those words. There are also references to how raising your kids to be soldiers and being their drill sergeant rather than their parent is one of the worst things a parent can do to their child.

Anyway, as interesting as it is to see all these things addressed in the Spn universe, what’s so damn satisfying is seeing Dean realise it. Dean’s on a mission to learn more about his past. To understand that our parents and where we come from shapes and moulds the people we become, but it doesn’t have to define us forever if we don’t let it. By accepting his past and finding out the truth about who his parents truly were, he can accept himself and move forward, free of whatever baggage that had been dragging him down for so much of his life.

And the greatest part about all of this, is that Dean’s the one driving this story. It’s not God, or his father or even his duty to take care of Sam which dictated so much of his life and his choices before. This is about Dean’s choices and who he is as a person and what he wants. It’s funny because as little as we saw John Winchester in season 1 of Spn, he was very much the spectre hanging over the story, and the search to find him is what drove much of the plot throughout the season. Much of what his sons were doing was in reaction to him. And now in The Winchesters, Dean himself is the spectre that’s been hanging over the season. He’s the one making the big moves and steering the action. He’s the one everyone, friend and foe alike, is looking for. He’s the one who gave John the note and put this whole thing into motion. After the ending of Spn took away so much of his agency and everything that makes Dean Dean, he’s finally getting it back and then some.

I’m excited to see how the season’s going to end, but I’ll forever be happy that this show gave us Dean being his own person again. He’s the one picking the music this time.

#the winchesters #spnwin #my spn thoughts

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soullessjack · 4 months ago

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"tell me on anon what you wouldn’t off anon"

i think dean was straight up abusive towards jack and while there is room for redemption to be explored, in canon, the show did not give him any sort of redemption. in other words in my eyes "canon" dean winchester is an abuser (but canon is unimportant anyways so whatever)

im scared of saying this and getting stoned to death

no need to comment you can just post this without saying anything if you want

- 🏴‍☠️

no no you’re right and you should say it, however I disagree that Dean was completely abusive and that there was never any canon redemption.

firstly I think there’s a slight difference in someone being abusive vs being an abuser;

abuse (or abusive behavior/tendencies) can happen accidentally, unintentionally, especially if it’s resulted from trauma (like Dean’s). you can be completely unaware that something you’ve done or said is abusive, especially because being abusive can be as simple as yelling or hitting someone, or treating them unfairly (like jack). people who have abusive tendencies or behaviors are capable of regretting it and wanting/trying to change…whereas an abuser is wholly aware, intentional and remorseless about their actions. they know what they are doing, they know it’s immoral/inhumane and they just don’t care—either because they feel entitled or justified in some way, or even if they don’t.

Dean has repeatedly shown plenty of regret, guilt and blatant self hatred for his abusive tendencies and how they affect the people around him. It’s one of the most important parts of his character, being the crux of his self worth and why he can’t accept that people (Cas) genuinely care about him or consider him a good person. When he refers to himself as “daddy’s blunt instrument” or “poison,” it isn’t just about being a hunter whose life constantly risks other peoples inescapably, it’s also about the violent nature that’s instilled into Dean constantly by John and how both of those things either isolates him from getting close to anyone else, or drives away people who do get close. That’s why there’s no light at the end of the tunnel for Dean, why he’s so resigned to dying bloody. It’s all he thinks he can ever have or really deserve.

When Jack is dying in 14x07, Dean physically cannot stand to see it. He’s angry that Jack is dying so young and so out of nowhere; he thinks it’s unfair and wrong, point blank. But above all else, (as Sam says) Dean canonically has never forgotten or forgiven himself for how he had treated Jack, even though by this point in time they’ve already had a good relationship for the past two years. He’s angry and upset that Jack is dying, but he’s also upset because he still thinks, after all this time, that he’s never been able to fully make up for what he did, and now he’s lost any chance to with Jack’s limited time. That’s why Dean decides to take him on the road trip; that’s why he says “Who would’ve thought being around me (the person who treated you terribly at one point) would make you (the person who didn’t deserve it) sentimental?”

When Dean leaves Jack’s room for the last time and wounds up being absent for his death, he’s even more upset about it, and later brings it up to take a dig at Sam for thinking he didn’t do enough for Jack because, by Dean’s own admission, Sam had always been the one to do more. “At least you were there for him [because I wasn’t, and I see that as another failure on top of everything else I did to him before].” And then, after the three of them get hammered in Jack’s memory, Dean turns to Cas and asks, “we did everything we could, right?” There’s a lot more in 14x07 but I’ll leave it alone for now, and move onto the redemption part of what you said.

I know I said I disagreed, but really it’s only partially; instead I believe that the show simply didn’t give enough time for a complete redemption (save me spn revival wish fulfillments, spn revival wish fulfillments save me). The end of S14 is basically the destruction of the Team Free Will 2.0 found family unit, not just between Dean and Cas, but also between Dean and Sam, and Jack and the three of them. And I think the reason there’s so much more emphasis on Dean’s relationship with Jack (+ why the family unit falling apart is specifically centered on it) is specifically because of how they started; Dean was initially the only one to be distrustful of Jack and mistreat him as a result, whereas Sam and Cas were willing to see Jack with more humanity and goodness, and when Jack proved that he was good that was the crux of Dean’s guilt going forward; his distrust was wrong and misguided, and the abuse he put Jack through because of it was even more wrong and undeserved.

But then after Mary’s death, the three of them have no idea what to think. They’re more reluctant than Bobby is to admit that Jack could have simply had his evil bone activated after losing his soul/eating Michael’s grace, but they aren’t excluding the idea either. The question up in the air now is: “Was Dean right all along? Were we wrong for trusting Jack and thinking he was good? Is all of this our fault?” (and going back to 14x07, the basic ‘framework’ of Dean’s dynamic with Jack is basically ‘I was wrong about you being evil and now that I love you I want to be keep being wrong about you being evil’ and ‘I want you to be wrong about me being evil too, especially now that you love me and I love you’).

Sam, Dean, Cas and Jack are all presented with the worst case scenario that had always been hanging over Jack’s entire existence. None of them want to believe it after growing so close to him (and vice versa), but they’re not given much else to consider. Mary’s death was one thing, one horrible tragic wound reopening, but they knew it was an accident and they knew Jack had tried to fix it. It isn’t until Duma got her claws into Jack and ordered him to kill nonbelievers that TFW finally decides they have to do something final about Jack, and Dean resumes his militant Kill All Monsters behavior. He’s dissociating into the blunt instrument mindset to protect himself from the grief of losing his mother and potentially losing his son. He can’t even bear to consider Jack his son anymore, both because of Mary and the task of killing him, so Jack becomes “just another monster,” in his dissociative mind. His son wouldn’t have killed Mary or tortured Nick or murdered people randomly because his son was a good person, and his son does not deserve to die, but whatever identical monster has inexplicably replaced Jack would certainly do that and certainly does deserve to die.

Dean’s “poison” is rooted in the fact that his coping mechanisms are intertwined with abusive tendencies and behaviors. He pushes people away if he thinks he doesn’t deserve their respect or love, and he buries any emotional attachment to them because he knows it’s his greatest weakness. That’s why he couldn’t bring himself to shoot Jack, regardless of the grief he felt for Mary or how much he tried to see Jack as a monster that wasn’t really his son. When Jack knelt down, said “I understand. I know what I’ve done. And you were right all along. I am a monster,” and then waited for the gun to go off, that’s what snapped Dean out of it. That’s what got him to see that this was still his son—that and the road trip from 14x07 flashing before his eyes. The grief he feels for Mary’s death is still painful and will be for a long time, but he won’t let it cloud him from seeing that his son is still there and still a good person who deserves the chance to make it right and be forgiven.

That militant dissociation comes back again following Jack’s death and Chuck’s retaliation/reveal that they’ve been nothing but a bunch of lowbrow Truman Burbanks to an unfeeling deity their entire lives. The most recent Destivorce is because Dean has constantly been pushing Cas away and severing their ties to cope with the situation. It’s bad throughout all of S15, but it’s especially worse towards the end when Dean is rampant on Jack’s suicide bomb plan happening for a chance at freedom. I’ve seen a LOT of people say that Dean’s love is conditional because of this, but it really…isn’t.

If Dean never cared about Jack, he’d never take time out of his life to spend some final moments with him, or share a specific father/son memory with him to indirectly communicate that he does see Jack as a son, but ultimately doesn’t feel like he deserves to be a father. If he truly felt that Jack “wasn’t family,” he wouldn’t have shown any of the concern for Jack that he did after Jack detonated in the Empty (frantically demanding to know if he’s alive and to bring him back); he wouldn’t have tried to apologize to Jack for hearing it, and he wouldn’t have *checks transcript* reacted in mild horror at Jack agreeing with what he said (and personally, if I’m insulting someone, I would want them to feel the same way that I feel).

Additionally, If Dean’s love is conditional, particularly on the basis of how useful someone is to him, then he wouldn’t have been expecting Jack to come back home with them or considering buying him actual gifts (a flat screen TV and a recliner, specifically for his room in the Bunker I might add) for saving the world.

Out of all the problems S15 had, I think the pacing was the absolute worst. Too many plots and one-off characters and plot devices squeezed into a short amount of episodes; too much focus put into filler instead of plot progression, etc etc. But what it absolutely missed out on was granting any of the characters any proper closure. I think that’s why Dean’s conflict with Jack feels so unresolved and unredeemed. Dean gets mean -> Dean feels bad -> Dean gets nice again, but that’s about it. For now I tend to view his dynamic with Jack as them being two sides of the same coin: Dean feels like he doesn’t deserve to be a father figure to Jack after everything he did, and Jack feels like he doesn’t deserve to be a part of their family as a son after everything he did.

#holdthypeace.txt #spn #supernatural #jack kline #dean winchester #dean and jack #tfw2.0 #spn meta #jack meta #spn analysis #I know I’ve spiraled into a lot of other topics here but the forefront of it is that abusers don’t regret their actions #and dean literally refused to be healed once because he felt so guilty and deserving of his pain #dean studies #<- my minor #also anon I hope this doesn’t come off as rude or mean !! genuinely not where I’m going with it at all

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multific · 2 years ago

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Pregnancy with Captain John Price Headcanons

John Price x Reader

His reaction would be the same whether it was planned or not

He would be absolutely shocked but happy

There would be a smile on his face all the time

He would scare the others with it though

They wouldn't understand why their Captain is smiling all the time

So, it worried them at first

But then you two would share the news and they would be delighted

John would 1000% be a protective husband

Overprotective at times

Somehow, even with the ultrasound photos and many doctor appointments, it only became real for him when he started to see your stomach showing

The moment came during a morning as you were looking at yourself in the mirror, looking from the side and affectionately rubbing your hand along your skin

You looked like a Goddess

And at that moment, he fell in love with you even harder

You would find him reading books about babies

He would try and hide them but of course you are a smart woman

It got to a point where you would leave out books for him to read

Neither of you mentioned anything about it

John would go on less missions as your due date would near

He wanted to be home, and help you

He would single-handedly prepare the nursery

Correction, he would try to make the nursery all by himself, would fail and as the guys to help

Everyone would come, even Simon to help the Captain

You two are having a little girl

And you can just imagine John and the others in little tiaras around a small table pretending to drink tea

Because that is what kind of men they are, supportive and a true team

The little girl would have everyone, including you, wrapped around her tiny little fingers, even if she still lived inside you

John would be so affectionate

He would get you anything you want

Food at weird times of the day? Sure

Weird food that makes him gag? Of course

Foot massage while you eat said weird food? Without a doubt

John would talk to his unborn baby every day

"Hi, Sweetheart, this is your dad here, I cannot wait to meet you."

"Sweetpea, I have a very important mission to go on, but I promise I'll be back as soon as possible."

"Sweetie, I'm home, you didn't cause trouble to your mommy now, did you?"

John is the best husband

He not only loves you dearly but he would put up with anything you say or do

Never getting angry or annoyed at you

He knows the amount of stress carrying a child puts on a woman

And he also has been in many interrogations and training so he would know what to do in tense situations

"John? Did you eat the last bucket of ice cream?" "Yes, I was about to head out and buy some more, what else do you need?" car keys already in his hands

"John? Why is it soo hot in this house?" "I already turned the AC on for you, Love."

"John! I am so fat! Look at me!" "No, Sweetheart, you are the most beautiful woman I have even seen. Here, I'm making Nutella cupcakes for you."

Anything you throw at him, he would have at least five answers ready

Cuddling with you and the baby is essential

Feeling the baby move or kick is his favourite

He would ask his little girl to do it again and again

During birth, John makes sure you are comfortable and he stays with you through every second

He would have the best doctors ready and the biggest room, where it is only the two of you, so you can be as comfortable as you want to be

He would hold your hand and never let go

Telling you how amazing you are

"You are a Goddess, My Love." "You are doing so well." "It is time for us to meet our little girl."

Overall, John is too perfect

After the birth, he would, of course, let you hold her, knowing, soon he will be able to do the same

"She is perfect, My Love." he would say as he watches you

When he hold her for the first time, he cries

Something you two will never ever mention

Then, as the others would come with their gifts, looking at the smallest little girl, they all felt like proud uncles

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter @stunkbiggu

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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robyese3 · 5 months ago

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K. I'm writing this into the void but I have nobody to talk bridgerton to. I blow the dust off my Tumblr to rant. Season 3. Here we go

PT. 1

Trash. All four episodes could have honestly been condensed to one, maaaaybe two to compensate for all the side plots. It did nothing to redeem Penelope.

It did however make me love Cressida, and further convinced me Eloise is queer. That said - Claudia Jessie so far has had chemistry with every single person (Benedict, Penelope, Cressida, Theo). Maybe it's just her. Philip was cardboard though so... We'll see if she can rescue that.

Why would the wig department do my boy Colin like that? Dirtyyy.

Francesca is GORGEOUS. She does look older than Daphne and Eloise, but I don't even care. Stunning. And John is a button.

Where did Luke and Nicola's chemistry go?!

KANTHONY. Only redeeming factor, and not enough of them.

What happened to Debling? Why wouldn't they just have HIM marry Cressida???? Like...?? It would have been perfect.

I love the Mondrich's story line - why is everyone hating? I do agree that it would have been a great way to reintroduce the Duke into the story though. Kinda mentor them through it. I get Rege-Jean wanted out but like... Recast it?

PT 2

Ahhh there is their chemistry. Found it.

I am HERE for mama Featherignton's redemption arc. Only works because she seems genuinely remorseful.

Incredibly disappointed with the Cressida storyline. Just wrecked a really dynamic story. Ruined Eloise's character growth (which she desperately needs) and just undid the awesome set up from pt 1. Felt so wasteful, unnecessary, and sad.

Most of the sex scenes were hot as hell but there was one (I don't remember which) was kinda awkward getting off the ground. They were like... Talking too much? Haha

Daphne not being there for Colin NOR Francesca's wedding? Yeah right. Get your casting contracts figured out bridgerton! This family can't be this close and just be missing major events. Would never happen. Lock them actors in from day 1.

I felt like Colin's arc from finding out to supporting her was really vulnerable, realistic, and well done. He was hurt and angry, but never stopped loving her. Just needed to process and he defended her tooth and nail despite knowing she didn't want to quit it. Good job kiddo.

Ok does Benedict do ANYTHING else but fvck? So grateful they finally admitted he's queer. And I wish they would have gotten to that part of his development in pt 1 so we could see him navigating it more.

When Colin said he had to talk to Benedict about getting the money, and implying that Benedict has some responsibility in the family with Anthony's absence - that was the biggest character development for him outside of his sexuality.

Philippa has NOT gotten enough screentime during this series. How are we just seeing how delightful she is now?!

Part 2 did such a better job at redeeming Penelope. I drank the Kool aid, back on team Penelope. Wrecked Eloise though. Sorry girl. Be better.

Michaela Sterling. Was kinda digging the "soft" love, and autistic thing that was circling the Internet so I was a little disappointed to see that all it was is that she's actually not attracted to him (knew the second they kissed haha). BUT the actress is stunning and I'm intrigued on how they'll develop Francesca's yearning for children with the queer storyline.

I would have loved for another King George cameo. Or just an update on his health, idk. Anything.

All in all, this show could do with adding another episode or two to it's roster and figuring out their pacing earlier on ESPECIALLY if you're going to be splitting the season. And even more so, if you're going to be juggling 82 different storylines.

If we're slowly shifting back to traditional tv practices (weekly releases episodes, commercials, etc), let the next thing be a full episode count. Done with this single digit amount episode. Order at least 10-12 episodes!

#bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers #francesca bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin x penelope #penelope bridgerton #cressida cowper #netflix bridgerton

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 1 year ago

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Sometimes Change Can Be Better

John "Soap" MacTavish X Reader Platonic!Task Force 141 X Reader

Internally you rolled your eyes, this was either some ploy for you and Johnny to get closer which didn’t sound like a bad time. However there was also the idea that maybe Johnny didn’t have the best intentions which worried you. The only way to find out was to throw caution to the wind and simply try.

a/n:this fic was brought on by an idea that @gaylemonshark and I had, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

You and Marc had been the best of friends since childhood, you were the first person he opened up to when it came to his DID. His parents were completely unaware of the struggles he dealt with, from blaming himself for his brother's death, to his mothers abuse. He had told you first when he signed up for the army, shocked that you had beaten him to it. Your parents had been disappointed, angry that you were willingly putting yourself into danger. You didn’t want to admit it was because of Marc, that you’d heard whispers of what he planned to do. It had been a long and grueling few years, testing your limits every single day. Marc was the only reason you’d managed to stay alive as long, keeping you safe.

So when he got dishonorably discharged you followed suit, leaving your life behind to join Marc in where his adventure led him next. And then you’d been shot and left for dead, watching Marc crawl into the tomb your team had been raiding. No one had known that they were living their last few minutes, shot execution style. Except for you and Marc, for some reason they’d assumed you would die and left before you could say otherwise. A strange light seemed to glow from inside the tomb, causing you to shut your eyes tight. Marc had come running out moments later, pressing his hands against the wound.

“You’re gonna be alright sweetheart, I promise.” And Marc, true to his word, made sure you survived the night.

He’d told you all about Khonshu, the Egyptian god that had given him the ceremonial robes so he could help keep people safe. He’d done everything he could to make sure no harm ever came to you, of course after taking care of a few loose ends. It lessened the guilt he felt after dropping you off in London, saying that he couldn’t risk your life anymore. It had hurt to be left behind, you’d given up your entire life for him, and this was the thanks you got? Of course he had never asked you to do that, but you didn’t have anyone else in your life.

And then one day he simply showed back up, bag thrown over his shoulder and a poor excuse as to why he’d suddenly come back. You wanted to slam the door in his face, to tell him that you wanted nothing to do with him. Except you couldn’t do that, not to someone that had been your friend for so long. So you invited him in and made him a cup of coffee. He admitted to everything, getting married to a woman named Layla, getting divorced from said woman. You were more upset that you hadn’t been invited to the wedding than the fact he’d gotten married.

There were never romantic feelings between the two of you, something you were a little thankful for considering that could end a friendship faster than anything. Marc on the other hand would scare away any romantic partner that tried to get close to you. It became very annoying after the first few times, especially when you wanted nothing more than for someone to warm your bed for the night. You’d all but kicked him out for the night, demanding to be left alone until you called him in the morning. Marc had showed up nearly four hours after you called, more annoyed than anything.

“Now you know how it feels! I’m not a kid Marc, you don’t need to worry about me at every turn and corner.” You didn’t want him to keep hovering, it was becoming tiresome.

“I’m going to worry about you anyway, you’re my best friend.” Marc patted your shoulder gently, heading over to make himself a cup of coffee.

You opened your mouth to make a retort, that even though the two of you were the best of friends that you needed space sometimes. However a bright light encompassed your entire apartment, bathing the space in a warmth that seemed to sink into your bones. It was the sudden pull that worried you, what the hell was going on?

“Marc?!” Your panicked scream caught his attention, turning around and shielding his eyes from the light.

“Y/N!” Marc reached towards you, body pulling into what felt like a black hole.

Your body was thrown around, struggling to slow down as you hurtled toward somewhere completely foreign. The ground came hurtling towards you faster than you’d been expecting, throwing your arms out to try and stop yourself from slamming against the hard wood. Unfortunately it did little to soften the blow, pain radiated throughout your entire body as you lay gasping for air. After a few excruciating moments you had finally been able to catch your breath, pushing up and off the floor slowly.

A gun pressed itself against the back of your head, an imposing form stood ramrod straight and waiting to see what explanation you would be able to give.

“I know this is going to sound insane, but I’m pretty sure I just got transported from my universe.” Sure there were Norse gods and even Egyptian gods that roamed the streets in your world, but this wasn’t home.

“You really think I’m dumb enough to believe that?” The gun pressed closer, digging into your skin as the person stepped closer.

“I swear! I was in my apartment with a friend of mine when this big ball of light came out of nowhere.” God you really did sound insane, they definitely weren’t going to believe you now.

You waited with baited breath for the safety to turn off, but no such noise happened. Instead the person behind you lowered the gun, stepping away from you slowly. You didn’t so much as relax your breathing, keeping your eyes focused on the wall in front of you. It was better to assume the worst than believe that everything would be alright.

“You’re coming with me.” A hand wrapped around your bicep, all but dragging you out of the room and into what looked like a living room.

Holy shit, had you managed to land yourself in someone’s apartment? Oh shit you were definitely not going to make it out alive now. Would Marc be able to find you before they did unspeakable things to your body?

“You were right, Price, something did happen.” The man shoved you towards a kitchen table.

Three men sat around the table, sending a nervous shiver down your spine as you took them all in slowly. The one closest to you could damn well be a model, you were half tempted to ask him if he was. The man in the middle had a look about him that screamed dad. Was he the dad of the group? The man on the left of him, to your right, definitely had you feeling a little more tongue tied. He had a rugged look about him that screamed “I’ve definitely seen some shit, but I can also make you laugh”. Definitely the cutest out of the three that you could see, considering your captor(?)was wearing a balaclava.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” Dad had leaned forward, hands clasped atop of the table.

“Y/N, sir.” Why did you feel the need to be so formal with him? Or with any of the men for that matter.

“Can you tell us exactly how you got here?” You nodded, pulling out the chair closest to you before sitting down.

You left out some of the less than pleasant details, only letting them know that you’d had a small argument with a friend before you suddenly found yourself here. To anyone that hadn’t witnessed what you had, they would’ve thought you were insane for sure. For someone like you it was normal, watching people from different universes land right in front of you. Hell, you had been snapped from existence for five years because of some purple alien. That was a horrible time, but after finding out that Marc had been snapped too you felt a little better.

“Have to admit, it’s pretty insane, but there’s stuff we just can’t explain.” It sounded like a poor excuse, but you’d told them all you could.

It helped ease your mind for a moment, if they believed that you hadn’t somehow snuck in to cause issues then surely everything would be alright. Hopefully Marc wasn’t getting himself into too much trouble.

_______

It felt strange being around the team, but at the same time you’d grown quite close to the group of men. You and Gaz had become nearly inseparable after meeting, playing harmless pranks on the other guys. It was kind of nice to not have any worries for a little while, even if the time was slowly taunting you. It had been nearly six months since you’d arrived and there was no guarantee that you would be leaving at all.

On one hand you didn’t want to, these people were some of the best you’d met in your entire life. Being a veteran helped get you into their good graces a little quicker, you had told them about your own past, the things you’d bared witness too. It was simply a natural thing for you, once you felt comfortable with someone new you’d bare your soul. The group had offered to head out to a pub for a night out, and who were you to object?

However you’d forgotten how much of a lightweight you were, and after only two drinks and three shots in you were definitely drunk.

“I’m telling ya! There’s a correlation between daddy issues and wanting to be bear hugged.” Your filter had slipped away completely, leaving you vulnerable to your own words.

“And why do ya say that?” Soap was more confused than anything by your statement.

“My dad was super emotionally absent, never told me he was proud of me, never told me he loved me, and was overall really sucky.” You normally never talked about your parents, considering neither of them were very supportive.

It hadn’t bothered you as often anymore, considering the fact that you’d slowly started to accept the fact that you’d be on your own. They were angry when you decided to stay in London, even after Marc stopped speaking to you. You wanted to visit for the holidays, but with how standoffish they’d become it was better to avoid them altogether. Sometimes a family you make is better than a family you have.

“Well, why don’t we test the theory?” Price stood up from the booth, smiling when you all but threw yourself over Soap’s lap.

“Yes please!” You threw your arms around his waist, relishing in the way his arms tightened around you.

Hugging Price felt like coming inside after a cold winter day to a bowl of warm soup, the first rays of sunshine after a rainstorm. It truly was something that you couldn’t fully explain, but it slowly warmed your heart. Even though he didn’t have any children of his own just yet, Price definitely gave a warm dad hug.

“I could fall asleep standing here if you let me.” You laughed into his chest, the soft scent of his cologne wrapping around you.

“As much as I’m sure you’d like to do that, we are standing in people’s way.” John was the first to let go, patting your shoulder gently.

“Thank you, it means more than you’d think.” You squeezed him one last time, sliding back into the booth beside Johnny.

The conversation seemed to flow to a lighter topic, leaving you feeling both comforted and happy that you could really open up. Kyle and Simon were talking about the different sights they’d see during missions, how they wished they sometimes could take photos as keepsakes. You knew how dangerous memories could be, if the wrong person found out where you’d been on a certain day it could end in death for you, or someone close to you. So instead you kept everything to memory,

Sunrises when you’d spent the entire night trying to run from the enemy, sunsets alongside Marc who was doing his best to ruin your day. Life hadn’t turned out the way you’d expected, nothing ever truly did, but this was a nice change of pace. You were surrounded by people who wanted you there, who laughed at the terrible jokes you made, who brought your spirits up when you were upset. It made you miss Marc at times, considering how long you’d known one another, but he wasn’t here.

Johnny leaned back in his spot, casually stretching and laying his arm across the booth along your back. You knew exactly what he was trying to do, it was something you’d seen in countless movies, and dealt with time and time again before. You didn’t say anything though, waiting to see if Johnny would work up the courage. Your prayers were answered as his arm slid down, warm skin pressing against your own as his fingers rested against your shoulder. Simon was the first to notice what was going on, a smirk pulling at his lips. He wouldn’t draw anymore attention, knowing it could ruin an otherwise sweet moment.

“Why don’t we get something to eat, soak up some of the liquor our dear friend has been drinking?” John slid out of the booth, pulling Simon with him to go put the order in at the bar.

“I’m gonna help em, lord knows they’ll end up dropping all the damn plates.” Kyle rolled his eyes, sliding out and following behind the other two men.

“Looks like they abandon us, how rude.” His tone was teasing and playful, but with his lips being so close to your ear it sent a shudder down your spine.

“Well I think you’re correct, quite rude of them indeed.” You turned your head, eyes locking onto his.

His eyes were like deep blue pools, and you felt that you would get lost in them if given the chance. Had he always been this beautiful, or was your mind suddenly clear enough to see what was truly in front of you? Your eyes flicked to his lips and back up, when had your mouth suddenly become so dry? Johnny didn’t give you another moment to debate before pulling you flush to his side, his left arm wrapping around your waist. The other three hadn’t come back yet and you were grateful, nothing worse than having your kiss ruined.

“Johnny, please.” Your voice was breathy, hand sliding up his chest.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He smiled before pressing his lips to yours so softly, you weren’t sure if you’d ascended to the heavens or not.

Your lips moved together methodically, the stubble lining his chin burned so pleasantly. He groaned into the kiss, hands gripping your waist tighter. Someone clearing their throat loudly caused the two of you to pull apart, you couldn’t hide the embarrassment on your face. Johnny of course was as confident as ever, hiding your face in his side to protect you.

“We come bearing food, so if you wouldn’t mind not acting like teenagers that would be wonderful.” Kyle set down two plates along with Simon and John setting down the other five.

“Sorry, got a little distracted.” You playfully slapped Johnny’s chest, straightening yourself up and fixing your hair to be more presentable.

“We know, you have some lipstick leftover.” Johnny reached up to wipe off his lips, noticing that Kyle wasn’t lying.

“They said it was transfer proof, damnit.” You’d gone shopping earlier that day, wanting to get a few more personal things since you were still stuck here.

“Don’t believe those, had plenty of girls kiss me and leave their mark.” Kyle was confident, and for good reason, so you weren’t surprised he’d pulled many ladies before.

John shut down any more comments and instructed everyone to dig in before the food started to get cold. You grabbed the mozzarella sticks right away, laughing when Simon gave you a shocked expression. Who didn’t love fried cheese? It was downright delicious. You gladly handed over a few of them in exchange for some of the fries he had. The food hit the spot, soaking up your drinks and sobering you up ever so slightly. You were definitely still tipsy, but nothing like before.

The rest of the night was filled with stories and laughter, putting you on the spot to tell an embarrassing story as everyone else had done so. You told a story about you walking in on Marc and his girlfriend at the time doing the hanky panky. It was a story you and Marc joked about constantly, mainly because the girl he was dating was loud. Had it not been for your headphones you would have heard them in the hallways. Kyle promised not to walk in on you and Johnny later, further causing you to hide in shame.

John was driving everyone back, seeing that he’d only had one pint early on in the night and didn’t trust anyone else to drive in their inebriated states. Simon called shotgun immediately, leaving Kyle stuck with you and Johnny in the backseat. You knew to behave, being in a confined space was a recipe for disaster. Your mind went back to where Marc was, and if he was safe. Surely he could handle his own, he’d done it for years after he left you to fend for yourself in London.

“Alright, please make it to your rooms and do not get into the damn kitchen again please.” John had pulled up outside of his apartment.

It was an agreement that any time you guys went out everyone would crash at someone’s apartment to make sure they were all doing well the next day. Simon was a tank when it came to alcohol, he could drink everyone under the table and still seem as if he was sober. Kyle could hold his own but he became very giggly and cuddly. John was your typical drunk guy, made bad jokes and laughed at everything. Johnny you were beginning to learn was a major flirt, and a damn good kisser.

“Alright captain, see you in the morning.” Kyle made himself comfortable on the couch, not even bothering to change into something more comfortable.

“You two better behave, don’t want the neighbors banging on my door because you kept them up.” John pointed his finger between you and Johnny.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be good.” Johnny steered you towards one of the extra bedrooms, shutting the door behind you.

You grabbed your pajamas and laid them on the bed, sliding your shirt off before unclipping your bra with a soft groan. No one liked wearing bras, they were uncomfortable and annoying to put on and taking them off felt so good.

“Jesus.” Johnny’s voice was breathless, gaze wandering over the skin that was now on display.

“Mmm?” You’d completely forgotten he was in the room with you for a moment, unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs.

“All this for me?” Johnny walked over slowly, palms sliding over your back and sides.

His skin was hot to the touch, like fire and ice.

“Maybe.” You leant back against his chest, relishing in the feeling of his body and hands against yours.

“I’ll be sure to appreciate it very much.” His lips pressed against your neck, sliding down to the waistband of your panties.

You couldn’t stop the moan that slipped through your lips, not realizing you would be making those noises for the rest of the night.

—---------

Sunlight was streaking along your intertwined bodies, soft snores filling the otherwise quiet room as the two of you slept peacefully. Simon and Kyle tiptoed in the room, carefully pulling the sheet over your body so that you would still be covered in case Johnny flailed. Somehow both men had woken up completely fine, no hangovers in sight. Stepping away from the bed Kyle raised his hands to start clapping loudly. Simon prepared himself for however Johnny was going to react.

“Wakey wakey love birds! Time to get up!” Both you and Johnny lunged up in bed, grabbing onto the sheet to keep yourself modest.

“Jesus, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Johnny was more annoyed at being woken up than that they were seeing the two of you nearly nude.

“John’s making food and wanted us to get you.” Simon shrugged before heading back out of the room, letting Kyle shut it behind him.

You flopped back into the pillows, head throbbing with a hangover from all the alcohol you’d had the night before. Clearly they hadn’t been affected and now you were annoyed. Not only was your head throbbing from the hangover, your entire body was sore from last night as well. Johnny was a man who knew damn well how to make you feel good and leave you wanting even more.

“Mmm, c’mere.” Johnny slid his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush to his own.

“Don’t think I could take you again this morning, a little too sore.” It was a good type of sore, something that would resonate for a couple of days at the least.

“‘S too bad, could just eat you right up.” His lips pressed against your neck softly, trailing down until they reached the top of your chest.

“Johnny, please.” Your nails dug into the skin on his shoulders, breath shaky as you tried to stop the racing of your heart.

Unfortunately Simon chose that moment to start banging on the door, demanding the two of you come out and eat breakfast. Both you and Johnny groaned, pulling away from one another to grab your clothes. He didn’t bother to pull on a shirt, leaving his torso on display in all its glory.

“Better put on a shirt unless you want Simon pointing out all the hickies you have.” His chest and neck were littered with dark purple splotches, scratches lining the skin on his back.

“You just don’t want ‘em seeing your handiwork.” Johnny was a confident man, had every right to be considering how he looked.

“Maybe I want to keep you all to myself for a little longer.” The shirt you’d stolen from Simon a couple months ago landed on your mid thigh, covering the shorts you’d thrown on.

“After breakfast I’m all yours.” Johnny threw a wink your way, pulling on his shirt from last night before heading out to the kitchen.

You fanned yourself for a moment, memories from the night before flooding your mind. Hopefully they hadn’t heard you and their teammate getting down and dirty like two college kids. John was sitting at the table, nursing a cup of coffee and scrolling through his laptop almost absentmindedly. Gaz and Simon were both cooking breakfast and brewing tea, and coffee for whoever wanted to partake. The moment Johnny’s eyes landed on you he pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist.

“Keep it PG you kids, don’t want to see the two of you going at it.” You hid your face in Johnny’s neck, hiding the way your whole body flushed.

“No worries cap, we’ll behave.” It didn’t matter if he was joking, Johnny wouldn’t push you if it made you uncomfortable.

You went to make a retort at John, to tell him that you were going to be on your best behavior around everyone else, until a knock at the door stopped you. It could be a number of people, and now you were nervous that they were going to be sent on a mission and leave you here. John went over to see who it was, opening the door slowly and carefully.

“Can I help you?” His voice wasn’t friendly, whoever this was was a complete stranger.

“Uhh hi, I’m looking for a friend of mine and I think she might be here?” Wait, you knew that voice.

“Marc?” Your head whipped up, body straightening as you waited to see if you were correct.

“Y/N?” Marc sounded shocked, he’d finally managed to find you.

John stepped back to let him inside, shutting the door behind him to keep the sense of privacy to everyone else in the apartment. You were ecstatic to see him standing before you, it’d been so long that you weren’t sure you’d ever see him again. Pressing a quick kiss to Johnny’s cheek you pushed yourself to run over to Marc, hugging him tightly.

“It’s been so long! Where the hell have you been?” If you were an honest person you’d tell Marc he looked like hell, his hair was a little longer, a beard covering his normally smooth cheeks.

“I’ve been looking for you, I’m pretty sure we both got sent here.” Marc suddenly realized how many people were standing around staring at him.

Simon was glaring at him, arms crossed over his chest as Gaz simply raised a brow in a “who the fuck are you?” type of expression. You were too afraid to turn around and look at Johnny and see how he looked.

“Sorry, these guys have been keeping safe since I got here. That’s Simon, Kyle, John, and Johnny.” You turned back around to face Johnny, noticing that he didn’t look angry at all, he looked almost lovestruck.

“Nice to meet everyone.” Marc wouldn’t admit how nervous he felt, it was obvious these men could kill someone and make it look like an accident.

“How’d you manage to find me?” You pulled him over to the table, sitting back in Johnny’s lap while Marc took the chair between you and John.

He began to explain how he’d landed somewhere in the US and spent the first couple months trying to work odd jobs to help get enough money to find you. Khonshu had also followed him, so at least he was safe from anyone who wanted to harm him. And then he began to talk about how he illegally hacked into a military base and managed to find you through security cameras. Had you not gone out with the boys the previous night it would’ve taken him longer to find you, according to Marc at least.

“So, get your stuff so we can go home.” Marc stood up, brushing off his pants and waiting for you to comply.

“Oh..Marc I don’t think I want to go back.” Your life here has been happier in the last few months than back in your own universe.

“What? Are you serious right now?” Marc was getting annoyed, why the hell would you want to stay somewhere you didn’t exist?

“Yes, I actually have people that like having me around, it’s not like my parents are going to be so sad that I suddenly disappeared.” They’d move on within a few weeks, you were sure of it.

Marc wanted to retort, to say that you were making a horrible decision by staying with people you truly didn’t know, but with the way one of them was glaring at him, he thought better of it.

“If I go back without you, there’s a chance you’ll never be able to go back, I need you to understand that.” Marc was hoping you would understand where he was coming from, however you stood strong.

“Marc, you know I care about you a lot, but I didn’t have a purpose there, I was working a deadend job waiting to see what life would give to me. I was depressed and not even you cared enough to stick around for longer than a week.” You loved Marc, and Steven, but you needed something stable in your life.

“I’ll give you a few more days to think about it, but if your mind is truly made up then I’ll leave you to it.” Marc sighed, turning without another word and leaving the apartment.

Johnny gently squeezed your hip, trying to reassure you that he was here if you needed the support. You laid your fingers overtop of his own, his touch seeming to ground you even more than usual. John was frowning, it was a look that you didn’t prefer seeing on his face, or any of theirs for that matter.

“I need to know, I don’t want to push myself onto you guys if you don’t want me here, I know I just kind of got dropped here by accident but..yeah.” Your heart started to race, what if they didn’t want you to stay after all?

“Sweetheart, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we would love nothing more than for you to stay here with us, you’ve been the best thing that came into all of our lives.” Johnny’s words warmed your soul.

You’d finally found your purpose, felt like you truly belonged somewhere you’d found yourself, albeit by complete and total accident. You would sit down and talk with Johnny before making the final decision, this wasn’t something to take lightly.

—-------

Marc was waiting inside the cafe near the apartment you were staying in, waiting to see if you would be coming home with him or if this was a final goodbye. He’d ordered himself a coffee, rolling his eyes at the looks he got from the barista. Sure, they were in England and he could’ve let Steven take over when ordering but he wanted to speak with you personally.

“Sorry I’m late!” You ran over to the table, pulling out the chair and sitting down quickly.

“I’ve only been here for a couple minutes anyway, you’re fine.” Marc wouldn’t tell you the truth, that he’d finished his coffee and nearly ordered a second cup.

“I’ve made my decision, I sat down with everybody and we talked about what would be best for them but also for me.” You looked down at the table, afraid to see the hurt that was coursing through his eyes.

Marc already knew the answer, he knew he wouldn’t be leaving with you by his side, that he was losing the one true friend he had. It was painful, deep down he would always think about your friendship and how even through thick and thin you were there for him. This wasn’t his decision though, you were able to make your own decisions and he needed to respect that.

“Umm, Stephen Strange contacted me last night, he found out about what had happened and offered to let us come back today and when I told him that I wanted to stay he promised that we could keep in touch.” You looked up slowly, watching the realization dawn on Marc’s face.

“Wait, he’d be able to let me visit?” This wasn’t something he thought possible, he’d always assumed it would be a one way ticket home.

“He gave me a way to contact him if I ever wanted, or needed to see you.” Your eyes filled with tears, a happy smile pulling up your face.

Marc threw himself around the table, pulling you into a vice tight hug. He wouldn’t lose you after all. Steven was rejoicing in his head, he seemed even happier with the news you had given them.

“Better let me be invited to your wedding.” Marc muttered into your hair, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’ll be the first to know.” You pressed your face further into his chest, letting tears soak into the cotton of his shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you a lot kid, try not to get into too much trouble without me around.” Marc pressed a kiss to your forehead, this day was ending on a much happier note.

“I’ll try.” You pulled from his embrace, giving him one last smile before running from the coffee shop to where Johnny was waiting outside.

Marc watched the way he wrapped you up in his arms, smothering your face in kisses while you laughed loudly. He’d always been your protector, needing to keep you safe from the horrors of the world, but now you had someone else to do that for you. And he wouldn’t lose you, not anymore.

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