#now I am just gonna be a lab rat and enjoy that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

Catch that Buzz

Pairing: Drug Lord!Thor x fem!Reader, and a little surprise crime boss!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x crime boss!Bucky Barnes

Words: ~10.8k (yikers)

Summary: You’re the queen to Miami’s biggest drug lord. He’s got the market on lock but is looking to expand, hopefully with some help from some potential friends from Brooklyn. But he’d never get any of it done without you.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (fingering, f and m receiving oral sex, unprotected vaginal sex, titty worship, voyeurism, exhibitionism, sex pollen vibes, mentions of anal sex and tit fucking, tattoo kink, little bit of a knife kink, violence kink, minor praise kink), heavy drug use, slightly above canon level violence, possessive Thor, hints of dark things to come, SMUT!!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!!

A/N: I went all out for this one guys, taking a little page out of @stargazingfangirl18‘s playbook by having absolutely no chill when it comes to mob AUs! This 100% got away from me and has a mind of it’s own. I did not at all plan on having any Stucky action but I couldn’t help it! This is gonna be a big ass series with appearances from all our faves and a variety of readers and I cannot even tell you how excited I am about it. Big fucking shout out to @cockslut-padalecki and @afriendlyblackhottie because I don’t know if I would have started writing this without their encouragement. I really hope you all enjoy this insanity!!!

(Credit for the dividers goes to the amazing @whimsicalrogers)

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!!!

You were slicing the fruit for your breakfast when he walked into the kitchen, already talking on that fucking phone.

“No, we’re not moving this meeting again.” He already sounded pissed off, but he still wrapped himself around your back and pressed a kiss to your neck before stealing a slice of mango. “If those New York assholes want to move their product through our port it’s tonight or nothing.”

It was upsetting how good he looked, his hair still slightly tousled from sleep and his satin pajama bottoms slung low on his hips as he moved to grab some juice from the fridge. You had a difficult time staying mad at him while you ogled the runic tattoos that ran over his torso and arms.

“Fucking ridiculous. Figure it out Sif, I don’t have time for this shit.” The phone clattered across the counter when he tossed it after hanging up, finally turning to you and smiling. “Morning beautiful.”

“Good morning. Meeting still on?” You grabbed a second bowl for him and scooped some yogurt into it before adding some honey and fruit.

“It better be. I’m sick of these dodgy fuckers.” His ringed fingers ran over his face in frustration as he watched you put everything away before bringing the food over and hopping up to sit on the counter in front of him. “Just want to go on a fucking vacation already.”

“You need to finish this deal if you don’t want a war with New York, honey.” You took a bite of your parfait and leaned back on one arm, swinging your legs lazily. “Then we can take as much time off as you want.”

“You’re telling me things I already know, sweetheart.” He reached out and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer and nuzzling into your hair.

“Then quit fucking complaining about it.” You scooped a finger through the remains of your yogurt and smeared it on his nose, beaming at him before leaning forward mouth it off.

A low growl rumbled his chest as he slotted himself between your thighs, his hands resting on either side of your hips before he was ducking to catch your lips with his. He started brushing his lips down your neck when you wrapped your legs around his hips, locking your ankles together behind him and scrabbling your fingers over his back when he flicked his tongue out to trace the hollow behind your ear.

“Think I’m just gonna spend all day right here.” He purred, his fingers skimming over your thighs then digging into your hips and dragging your ass to the edge of the counter. “Val can figure out the logistics for the meeting.”

“I’m sure she can handle... fuck... handle it.” Your breath hitched when he knelt in front of you and started kissing the insides of your thighs, occasionally sucking a bruise against your soft flesh.

He breathed against your entrance and you keened, winding a hand through his hair and trying to drive yourself into his face. When he finally flicked his tongue out to taste you, you almost collapsed, a jolt of pleasure shooting through your body from your core. His arms wound around your legs and kept you still as he ate you out like a starving man, his tongue swirling expertly through your folds and lapping up all the evidence of your arousal.

The sound of his phone buzzing across the counter almost broke you out of your blissful haze, blinking slowly as you turned your head to look at the offensive object.

“Don’t you dare.” He mumbled when you reached for the phone, diving back in and sucking at your pussy lips before sliding his tongue inside you.

“Jesus, Thor!” You managed to catch yourself on your elbow when your arm gave out as his nose brushed against your clit.

His grin faded when the phone buzzed again and he growled against your cunt, the vibrations making you clench around his tongue when he curled it inside you.

“Baby, it’s Val.” You’d managed to catch a glimpse of the caller ID. “She wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t important.”

“I’m busy.” He grunted, pressing soft kisses over your mound to give you a short reprieve before shaking his head to bury himself deeper at the same time he wrapped his lips around your clit.

“Fuck!!” All the muscles in your body seized as your orgasm washed over you, your cum soaking his stubble when you finally released all over his face.

If you thought he was finished you were wrong, screaming when he shoved two fingers inside you while he flicked soft kitten licks against your tiny bundle of nerves. Your pathetic whimpers and mewls filled the silence of the kitchen while he took you apart, scissoring his fingers to stretch you before inserting a third and grinning when you arched into his face.

He ignored the screeching of tires from outside, still fucking you with his fingers when he heard a car door slam and the front door flew open.

“Hey boss, Y/N.” Val had a wicked grin on her face when she sauntered into the kitchen, moving to the fridge and grabbing an apple before turning to watch the two of you. “Hate to interrupt but we’ve got a bit of a problem.”

Thor growled into your pussy and you whined, writhing against his face while he raised his free hand and motioned for Val to continue.

“We found a rat in the shipyard crew.” She pulled out her butterfly knife and flicked it open with a flourish, winking at you before slicing off a chunk of apple and bringing it to her lips.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Cop?” His fingers were still stroking that sweet spot when he broke away with a scowl, and you swallowed a shriek when he started taking his frustration out on your cunt.

“Don’t think so, he had a lot of money coming in from some West Coast accounts.” She cocked her head and grinned at you when he started mouthing at your sex again, a desperate moan leaving your lips. “Think Stark might be considering making a move.”

“That’s all I fucking need.” He murmured against your pussy. “You stash him?”

“Yeah, at the lab.”

Maybe you should have felt a little demeaned that the two of them were talking like you weren’t even there, but all you could focus on was the warm coil of pleasure that was gathering in your abdomen and the effort you were taking to not black out.

“Good. Lemme finish up here then I’ll head out.”

“Sure thing boss.” She gave you one more smirk and tossed the apple core in the compost bin before turning to leave. “You may want to put down a towel, when she starts breathing like that it usually means she’s about to squirt.”

His dark chuckle against your clit did it, your back arching you off the counter as you let out a wail. He wrapped his lips around your cunt and moaned when your release squirted into his mouth, his tongue laving over your entrance as he swallowed your essence while you vibrated against his face.

It took a few minutes for you to come down, panting breathlessly as he rose to his feet and grinned at you.

“Dunno how I should feel about Val knowing so much about what your body does when you come, love.” He teased, his fingers lightly skimming over your thighs.

“Maybe if you weren’t constantly fucking me in front of her.” Your brain was finally starting to reset, and you started to sit up with a low moan, your thighs quivering with the strain of aftershocks.

“Right.” He pressed a kiss to your hair before stepping back and running his hand over his mouth. “Go get dressed, you’re coming with me.”

You beamed at him and slowly slid off the counter, your smile slipping slightly when your knees buckled and he had to catch you, pulling you to his chest with a grin.

“You sure you want that, baby?” The weakness in your legs was fading quickly, and you managed to stand on your own to head towards the bedroom. “Last time you almost killed that guy when you though he was looking at me too long.”

“I’m sure, I had big plans for that perfect body today, I’m not putting those off because of some rat.”

“Fuck, that’s it.” His hand gripped your hair painfully when you swallowed around his cock, his head leaning against the seat as the town car pulled up to the lab. “Oh good girl, take all of it.”

You hummed and he let out a hiss when your throat constricted around him at the same time he swelled and shot his release against the roof of your mouth. He held your head down while his hips jerked against your face with a stutter, making sure you’d gotten everything before letting you go to sit back up.

“Feel better?” You teased, grabbing your compact and lipstick from your purse to fix your face.

“For now. That mouth of yours is something else.” He tucked himself back into his slacks with a deep sigh before turning to look at the building you were parked in front of. “But now I gotta deal with this shit.”

“I know, baby.” His breathing relaxed a little when you wound your fingers through his and pressed your lips to his palm. “You want me in the room?”

“Always.” The two of you slid out of the car and started to head inside, separating reluctantly to at least try to appear professional. “Wanna say hello to the big man first though, heard he might have something new for me.”

You perked up at that. Bruce was always a treat to talk to, such an unbelievably sweet and unassuming man. And he was a goddamn genius when it came to drugs.

“Hi there boss. Y/N! What a nice surprise!” That smile was infectious, you couldn’t help but grin back at him while Thor inspected the small collection of parachute papers on the lab table, each one emblazoned with the signature lighting bolt.

“Hiya Bruce.” You gave him a brief hug before following him to where your man was standing. “I heard you’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, been tinkering with the old Mjolnir formula and think I finally hit that sweet spot.” He looked at the small pieces of paper like a proud father before handing one to you for inspection. “I call it Stormbreaker. Extremely fast acting MDMA compound that gives an incredible high while metabolizing in half the time. I think we should be able to roll it out full scale in time for Spring Break.”

Thor nodded appreciatively as you talked with Bruce about the specifics of the chemistry, always eager for the chance to talk to another academic and geek out.

“And it’s more intense than Mjolnir?” You asked, squinting at the tiny piece of paper in your palm.

“Sure is.”

“Half dose, gorgeous.” Thor scolded when you started to bring the paper to your mouth. “Don’t need you passing out on me.”

You rolled your eyes at him as Bruce gave a sheepish grin, taking the paper you were holding and measuring out a smaller dose for you. Thor smirked at you when you waggled the new paper at him before swallowing it.

“Oh, shit.” Warmth bloomed in your core and spread through your body on thin tendrils, snaking through your veins as a low throbbing started between your thighs and your head became instantly lighter. “Fuck, that’s intense. Umm... is this cut with something new?”

“No we just upped the purity, why?”

“No reason.” You gasped, gripping Thor’s forearm tightly as slick flooded your panties.

He was giving you a knowing grin while you leaned into his shoulder, moaning softly when you inhaled the subtle pink pepper and lemon scent of his cologne, quiet notes of orange blossom drifting through as all of your senses ramped up. Poor Bruce just looked at the two of you with confusion when you rubbed your face into Thor’s chest.

“I think we can move to full scale production of this immediately.” Thor knocked his rings against the table twice to show his approval, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you up when you started to grind against him. “Good job, Banner.”

“Ready for you boss.” Val came striding into the room and laughed when she got a look at you trying resist the urge to hump Thor’s leg. “I see we let Y/N try the big man’s new sex drug. How you feelin’ there sweetie?”

“I feel fucking great Val, what about you?” Maybe if you squeezed your thighs together... oh god. Your legs almost gave out as a shock traveled up your spine and burst at the base of your skull.

“Not as good as you!”

You finally started to equalize and gave Thor a pat on the shoulder to signal you could walk, straightening yourself before the two of you followed after his lieutenant.

The two of you arrived at the side room a little behind Val, Thor releasing you with a hungry kiss that left you breathless before he was slipping out of his suit jacket and tossing over the back of the armchair he’d had brought in for you. You snarled at him for leaving you hanging as you sank into the seat and pouted, admiring the movement of his well muscled back under his shirt as he rolled up his sleeves.

“What’s this asshole’s name Val?” He asked, looking at the tools she had set out on the table with a nod before turning to the man that was strapped to the chair in the middle of the room.

“Fuck if I know.” She said with a snort, grabbing a set of brass knuckles and putting them on as she flexed her hand.

You crossed your legs and reached into your bag to pull out a book, flipping it open to the marked page as you did your best to tune them out, unsuccessfully.

“Right, what’s your name?” Aside from a slightly furrowed brow, he looked remarkably calm, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall.

“Tim.” The man licked his lips nervously as he watched your man, completely ignoring Val as she prowled towards him.

That was a mistake.

She drew her fist back and drove it into his cheek, grabbing the back of the chair to keep it from teetering over when his upper body snapped to the side. He chest heaved as he took pained breaths, spitting blood down his chest before raising his eyes to watch her warily.

“Tim. I’ve got three questions for you, and you’re going to answer them for me.” He hefted the silver hammer that was laying on the table and rested it against his shoulder. “You get three chances to answer with just Val providing incentive, then I’m gonna take over, and trust me when I say you don’t want that.”

“Ok.” The poor sap kept one eye on Val as he tried to straighten back up.

“Good.” He started tossing the hammer in the air lazily, catching it in one hand like it was the easiest thing in the world and he didn’t know that sort of cocky display was going to turn you into a wet mess. “Who’s paying you? How long have they been paying you? What have you told them?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I work for you.”

“Oof, wrong answer.”

Val tsked at him mockingly before driving her fist into his ribs, knocking all the air out of him as Thor walked over to stand next to you. You huffed when he pulled your book away and sat on the armrest next to you, your protests dying on your lips when he ran his fingers up your spine and started rubbing your neck, his other hand spinning the handle of the hammer through his fingers.

“Let’s try again. Who’s paying you? How long have they been paying you? What have you told them?”

“I’m not...”

“Hmph, Val?”

She backhanded his unbruised cheek with a smirk, stepping back and shaking the blood off her fingers when she was finished. You barely caught any of it, the drugs still coursing through your system making the feel of Thor’s hands on you so much more intense. When he brought his massive hand up to cup your jaw you whined, opening your mouth just enough to let him slip his thumb between your lips.

“Last chance, Timmy. I gotta tell you I’m torn. As much as I love using this hammer, my girl here took a little something that is gonna make fucking her even better than normal.” He slid his thumb further into your mouth and groaned when you swirled your tongue around it. “So I’d really like to wrap this up. Who’s paying you? How long have they been paying you? What have you told them?”

The man turned his eyes to you and gave you a pleading look. “Please, help me.”

Thor and Val broke down in hysterics, Thor curling over to laugh into your hair while Val doubled over and clutched her sides.

“Ha, oh that’s the wrong move!” Thor was finally able to sit up as his laughter subsided, but tears were starting to leak down Val’s cheeks while she wheezed. “Even if she could help you, she loves on this shit. She probably wants me to start using this hammer, last time she started touching herself before I even finished.”

His hand curled possessively around your throat when you shrugged at poor Tim before flicking your eyes back to Thor’s when he bent to kiss you hungrily.

“Answer the fucking questions, Timmy boy.” Val turned to him with an eye roll while Thor teased you with his tongue until you were moaning.

“I don’t know anything!”

“Goddamn it! Sorry love.” You whined when he disconnected from you and stood up, starting to unbutton his shirt so he could slide it off his shoulders.

Not that you could complain when he was standing there in only his undershirt, rolling his neck as he walked towards the center of the room.

“Bring the table, Val.”

She dragged it over with a grin, dropping it once she reached them and moving to unbind Tim’s right hand. He started spluttering pathetic pleas when she stretched his arm over the table painfully and wrenched his hand open while Thor hefted the hammer with a heavy sigh.

“Thor.” You called out to stop him before he brought the hammer down on Tim’s hand.

“Yeah, what is it honey?” He shot you an exasperated look over his shoulder as he ran his hand through his hair.

“You’ll want to hit the wrist not the palm. More nerve endings.”

His hearty laugh made you smile, leaning back in your seat and curling your legs under you as you settled in to watch.

“Thank you, baby.” He turned back to Tim with a wicked grin. “Isn’t she something special, Timmy?”

“Wait, fuck! I’ll talk!” The man screamed right before the hammer made contact.

“Ohh, nick of time!” Only Val looked a little disappointed, moving to restrain Tim’s hand again. “Who’s paying you?”

“One of Stark’s lieutenants, I think his name is Hogan.”

“Excellent. How long?”

“Six months.”

“Very good Tim. Now, tell Val everything you told that fat fuck and then we’ll let you go.” He nodded to Val before striding towards you and drawing you to your feet, tossing you over his shoulder and slapping your ass playfully as he started heading back to the front of the building. “You got room at the body farm, beautiful?”

“Yeah, let me know when your dropping him so I can make sure I’m working that night.”

He shoved you into the back seat of the town car when it pulled up, grinning when you squealed for him as he crawled in after you.

“How long do we have until the Stormbreaker is out of your system?” He pulled you into his lap and buried his face in your neck as he shoved his fingers under the hem of your skirt.

“Bruce said it metabolizes in half the time so probably 2 more hours.” You sighed when he teased his fingers under the sides of your panties and started sliding them down your legs.

“Perfect, let’s see how many times I can make you come before then.” He turned to drop you against the seat, tucking your panties in his back pocket before moving his hands to undo his fly. “Bet I can make you pass out, you’re already fucking soaked.”

“Don’t you fucking tease me. I’ve been on the edge for the past half hour, I need that cock.”

“God, you know I love when you talk like that.” He growled as he spread your legs wide, hissing through his teeth when he got a look at the wet, throbbing mess between your thighs. “Just look at that. Tell me how much you need it, gorgeous.”

“Fuck, Thor, gimme that cock.” You were burning up, your breath coming in shallow gasps as he teased his tip against your clit. “Need it to split my pussy open.”

“Yeah, she hungry for it?” He groaned as he slid into you, mesmerized while he watched you swallow every inch of him. “Fuuuck.”

“Oh my god, keep going.” You thumped your fist against the door when he started thrusting into you with abandon. “Shit, I’m gonna come.”

“Jesus, that was fast.” He curled over you and swallowed your scream as you fluttered around him. “I’m gonna give Banner a raise.”

“I really think you should.” You murmured, whining into his mouth when you came again almost immediately.

“You’re taking me so good, beautiful.” He purred, grinning when you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Making such a pretty mess for me. You keep this up you’re gonna pass out before we even get back to the house.”

You took a deep breath when he pulled out, grateful for the relief before he was flipping you over and driving back into you hard, ripping another orgasm from you. Your jaw went slack as you pressed your face to the leather seat, drool starting to leak down your chin while you mumbled incoherently.

“Can’t.” Tears were streaming down your cheeks when you fluttered with even more pleasure. “Baby, I can’t.”

“Oh, yes you can, honey. You’re already doing it.” He nuzzled into your hair and pressed his lips to your neck, winding his fingers with yours above your head. “Just gimme one more, I’m so close.”

You choked on a sob and your vision blacked out as you clenched around him one final time, sinking into the seat while he filled you up with a low moan.

“Jesus fuck. You with me love?” He pulled out of you slowly, grinning when he heard you mumble into the seat. “We’re home.”

All you could do was groan when he scooped you up to carry you inside, not able to make yourself care that your skirt was still gathered around your waist and your lower half was completely bare. The sensation of the fresh air on the combination of your releases made you gasp, squeezing your thighs together as even more slick leaked out of you.

“Already?” He teased when you sat up to bury your face in his throat. “That genius is gonna make me so much fucking money.”

It was 90 minutes later and you were finally coming out of your haze, soaking your overworked muscles in your massive tub as you leaned back against Thor’s chest and hummed to yourself while he rubbed the kinks out of your shoulders and arms.

He had spent the past hour and a half wringing every ounce of pleasure from your body, making you come over and over as he fucked every one of your holes. You’d passed out three more times, each time waking up to his face buried between your thighs as he started the whole process all over again.

Taking you apart was his favorite thing, especially when you were on something and extra sensitive. He loved when you were completely fucked out, crying all pretty for him and covered in cum. You were always so needy after, content to let him take care of you while you basked in your post coital glow.

He looked at the clock and groaned, pressing his lips to your hair before rising out of the water. You just sighed, watching appreciatively as rivulets of water ran over the muscles of his back. God his ass was just fantastic.

“Y/N.” His deep voice snapped you out of your little daydream as he ran a towel through his hair, beaming as he turned to look at you. “We need to leave in an hour.”

“Ugh, fine.” You frowned when he wrapped the towel around his hips and started to move to the closet to choose a suit, getting out of the tub with reluctance. “Is this a panties or no panties type of meeting?”

“It’s at Thrudheim.” He called over the blow dryer as you worked on your hair.

“So, no panties.” You sighed, flipping over as you continued the slow process of getting ready.

It was a half hour later when you strolled out of the bathroom, your hair and makeup perfect as you moved to your own closet. Thor was fastening his cuff links when strode into the bedroom, wearing that white suit that he knew was your favorite.

“No, the leather one.” He ordered when you pulled out your go to red mini number.

“Really?!” You put the red dress back and pulled out the black thing he was indicating. “That’s how you want to play this?”

“Absolutely.” He grinned as he watched you slip it on and start to draw the zipper up your front. “That’s far enough, want everyone to see that ink.”

His fingers reached out to trace your tattoo, the handle of the hammer that ran between your breasts before the head spread underneath them. It marked you as his, and fuck if he didn’t start to get hard every time he saw it.

“Nuh-uh, we’re on a timetable.” You chuckled as you moved to pick out some heels, settling on some sparkly stiletto booties. “Are you going to be able to control yourself tonight?”

“I’ll do my best, but you’re so damn distracting.” He wrapped himself around your back and pressed his lips to your shoulder when the two of you started moving towards the stairs.

“That is the idea.” You teased, shoving him off you so the two of you didn’t trip as you walked downstairs.

Val and Heimdall were chatting in the foyer when you arrived, stopping their conversation and turning to face you.

“They’ve been at the club for about 20 minutes, boss.” Heimdall said, holding your door open for you as you climbed into the SUV. “Sif says they’re starting to look a little pissed.”

“Good.” Thor crawled in after you and slammed the door closed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as Heimdall pulled out after the other SUVs in the caravan. “I’m pissed they’ve been putting this off for the past three months. They can wait an extra hour. I’m guessing that both of them made it out.”

“Yep, Barnes and Rogers both landed this morning.” Val turned in her seat to look at you two, that signature smirk of hers teasing the corners of her lips. “Guess they finally realized there wasn’t some secret port they could sneak their coke through.”

“How many men with them?” Thor started running his fingers over your arm lazily while you leaned against his chest.

“Just three. Romanoff, Barton, and Wilson.”

“Alright, make sure Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral are in position before we arrive.”

You gave his thigh a squeeze, feeling the nervous energy that was radiating off him in waves. He always got like this before a big meeting. No matter how calm he seemed on the surface, you could always see the thunderstorms of anticipation brewing behind his eyes. It was best to let him think in silence, so you just snuggled against his chest for the rest of the ride, letting your warm presence soothe him as much as possible.

The line of SUVs arrived at Thrudheim in 30 minutes, and you felt Thor take a deep breath before Heimdall opened the door and the two of you stepped out into the night.

You bypassed the massive queue for the door, Val moving in front of you and Heimdall behind as you stepped into the noisy chaos of Thor’s flagship club. It was packed as always, writhing bodies filling the dance floor while other revelers gathered around the multiple bars or in private booths.

Sif moved to join you as you walked past the club’s entrance, leaning close to Val to update her on the situation. You spotted Fandral at the main bar and he gave you a nod as you moved past. Hogun and Volstagg must have been close by, but there was no way to spot them in the press of bodies while you made your way towards the VIP section at the back of the club.

Thor wrapped his arm around your waist as you drew closer, grinning at you when you slapped his chest when he made adjustments to your tits until they were practically spilling out of your dress. That was the game you two played though; him negotiating aggressively and methodically while you distracted his targets by looking like the embodiment of sin. He loved watching the morons he had to deal with look at you like they wanted to eat you alive, knowing all the while that he’d be fucking you until you were screaming as soon as the deal was closed.

You finally arrived at the VIP lounge and started to size up Thor’s potential new partners when you stepped past the velvet ropes. Val and the cute little redhead were giving each other almost identical smirks as the mohawked man she was talking to rolled his eyes. It was hard not to return the charming smile of the handsome man who was leaning against one of the pillars, and when his brown eyes met yours he gave you a wink.

It felt like a punch in the gut when your eyes finally found the two men you were there to meet, and the very unwelcome thought that god gave you three holes for a reason crossed your mind.

You were drawn to the blonde first, his broad shoulders looking like they were about to burst the seams of his well tailored suit jacket. His shirt was unbuttoned enough that you could see lines of ink tracings his chest, matching the scrolls that ran over the backs of his hands and ringed fingers. Even in the dim light of the club, you could make out the deep blue of his eyes, the corners pinched with annoyance. He ran a hand over his perfectly manicured beard in frustration before his movements suddenly stopped when his eyes found you.

The brunette seemed far more relaxed, seated on one of the plush couches with his legs spread wide and a drink in his hand. He didn’t seem to be as tatted up as the blonde, but you still spotted a few swirls of ink under the loosened collar of his shirt. You were surprised when you saw the glint of metal from his left hand, wondering what injury had caused him to lose the arm and also how that neural link must work. His eyes seemed to be twinkling with mischief, and when they followed the blonde’s his face split in a grin after he ran his tongue over his bottom lip slowly.

You did your best to school your thoughts when you turned back to Thor, but the smile he was giving you made you worried he knew exactly what you were thinking. That was either a very bad or very good thing, depending on how the rest of the night went.

“Odinson! Nice to finally put a face to the name.” The brunette stood up and strode towards the two of you. “Bucky Barnes.”

Thor took his hand when he offered, returning the man’s grin warmly as he removed his arm from around your waist.

“Would’ve been nicer to put a face to the name an hour ago.” The blonde growled, his eyes still fixed on you as you finally started to calm down.

“Forgive Steve here, he’s been a little impatient to get things underway.” The two of you followed after Barnes as he moved back to the couches, sinking into the one opposite him as Thor motioned for a waitress.

“Completely understandable. I know I’ve been anxious to get this taken care since we first made contact three months ago.” And the passive aggressive foreplay had begun. Thor ordered ordered a bottle of vodka and a bottle of Aquavit as well as three bottles of champagne for the group, adding a bottle of bourbon when he got a look at the drink in Barnes’ hand.

“I know, I know. We hated having to delay, but there were so many complications with the logistics there was really no choice.” He was a good liar, like you all didn’t know they’d been trying to back door their way into the Miami market without paying their dues. “Stevie, quit being a fucking grouch and come sit.”

You could feel his eyes on you as he moved to join you three, the lieutenants following after and arranging themselves around the couches with a false air of relaxation.

“Now, I think we all know who almost everyone else is, we’ve got our reputations and such that proceed us.” Bucky’s eyes moved back to you when the drinks arrived. “But I got no idea who you are doll, and me and Stevie here aren’t big on surprises.”

You beamed at him, leaning over nice and slow so they had a good view of your tits as you poured yourself some Aquavit.

“I’m Y/N.” You said teasingly, leaning back as you took a sip of your drink and felt their eyes follow you. “I’m just here to look pretty.”

“Well, you’re doing a great job.” Bucky gave you a wink before pouring his own drink.

“Enough fucking small talk, let’s get this over with.” Steve grumbled, his rings tapping against his glass irritably.

“Fine by me.” Thor took the glass of vodka you handed him and tossed it back in one gulp. “You want to move your product into my city, but I’ve got a pretty good corner on the narcotics market out here. Why should I split my profits with you boys?”

“You’ve got the edge on the MDMA market sure, but we’ve heard that your coke is barely above the cut.” He motioned for the redhead to step forward and she deposited a brick of white powder in the middle of the table. “That’s what we offer.”

Thor held your shoulder when you started to lean forward towards the coke, shaking his head with a small smile when you pouted at him.

“And this is supposed to be better than what my boys are already turning out?” He looked skeptical.

“Why don’t you try it and tell us.” Rogers growled, starting to look a little more relaxed as he sipped his bourbon.

“I’m sure you boys are on the up and up, but if you think I’m just gonna take a bump of unopened product from a couple of strangers...”

“Say no more.” Bucky gave him a dismissive wave of his hand before pulling a knife out from under his jacket with a flourish and plunged it into the brick. He scooped a small bump onto the edge of the blade and brought it to his face, inhaling deeply then sinking back into the couch with a satisfied smirk. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

Thor gave a snort before leaning forward and dipping his pinkie into the powder, shoving the coated finger into his mouth and rubbing it over his gums.

“Hmm, that’s fast.” He hummed with appreciation, taking another quick bump before resting his elbows on his knees. “Think we can find a place for this with our distributors.”

“You want a taste, sweetheart?” Rogers’ eyes were dark as pulled his own knife out and offered you a line off the blade.

You turned to Thor and he gave you a small nod, continuing his negotiations with Barnes as you leaned towards Steve. He grinned wolfishly as he watched you snort the powder off the edge of his weapon, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth when he saw your chest heave as the stimulant hit your system.

“Oh, fuck.” Every nerve in your body started buzzing with electricity, your spine shivering as the high took over. “Jesus Christ, that’s good shit.”

Rogers ran the tip of his blade over your bottom lip gently, tugging your mouth open with a low moan before Thor’s voice broke you out of it.

“How you feeling, love?” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you towards him, trying not to give Rogers too much of a shit eating grin when he saw his look of disappointment.

“Like I could fight a rhino.” You hummed, arching your back with pleasure while you leaned against him.

“Yeah? Maybe later.” He pressed his lips to your hair before turning back to his new partners. “So, free use of the ports and our land distribution network, and I get a 25% cut of all Miami profits. We’ll also start moving Mjolnir and Stormbreaker in New York, giving you 15% of those profits.”

“Why should we get 10% less than you, Odinson?” Steve was starting to look pissed again, bouncing the blade of his knife off the palm of his hand. “We’re taking on just as much risk.”

Thor moved his hand down to your hip and tapped his fingers against it, turning his head and giving you a conspiratorial wink. You beamed at him before rotating your body slightly, making sure both men’s eyes were on you before uncrossing your legs. Their reactions were everything you wanted, Steve sucking his breath in a hiss and his knuckles turning white around his glass while Bucky growled and bit his bottom lip. You gave them a few seconds to enjoy the view of the glistening treasure between your thighs before crossing your legs again and resting your head against Thor’s shoulder, a look of doe eyed innocence on your face as you ran your fingers over his chest.

“You’re making less because I am providing all of the infrastructure for shipping and distribution here in Miami, whereas all you can offer me in New York is your established client base.” His hand moved up to cup your breast, smirking as he watched the two men start to squirm when his fingers teased at the edge of your neckline that was barely containing you. “Plus I’ll give you boys some introductions to my international connections, since I know you’ve been looking to spread operations overseas.”

“Qu’en penses-tu?” Barnes eyes were still fixated on you as he started chatting with Rogers in French.

“Je n'aime pas ça.” The blonde growled, his eyes moving to your legs as you started rubbing your thighs together. “Nous en avons besoin, cependant.”

“Il est le seul à avoir accès à elle.” Bucky said with a nod, turning to face Steve with reluctance as they talked things over.

You did your best to act like you weren’t listening, giggling when Thor bent his head to run his tongue over the shell of your ear. He grabbed the bottle of Aquavit and refilled your glass for you before pouring himself another vodka, leaning over the back of the couch to give Val a nod. She grinned back at him before turning away to find Sif.

“We can accept giving you 20% of any Miami profits if you cut us in for 5% of shipping revenue from your ports.” Rogers grumbled with a shrug, the two men turning to face you again.

“Hmm, what do you think, love?” Thor gripped your chin lightly and tilted your head up to look in your eyes.

“I think you should stick to the original offer of 25%, babe. They’re hoping to undercut your dealings with Danvers and edge you out once you make an introduction.”

“What the fuck?!” Steve looked furious, reaching into his waistband for his gun before Thor drew his own first and leveled it at his head.

Bucky and you were the only two who seemed relaxed as everyone drew weapons. The three Lieutenants trained theirs on you and Thor while Heimdall pointed his at Barnes. Val and Sif arrived then and dropped the massive duffel they were carrying, Sif pulling a revolver from her thigh holster while Val drew a pair of desert eagles from under her jacket with an excited grin and aimed at the three who had their guns pointed at you.

You and Barnes looked at each other appreciatively, he was giving you a wicked grin as the tension rose quickly, everyone waiting for someone else to do something.

“Let’s all just take a couple deep breaths and relax.” Bucky clapped Steve’s shoulder until he sat back with a grunt, letting go of his grip on the gun. “So, you’re just here to look pretty, doll?”

“Sorry, I didn’t give you my full name, Bucky, we like to keep things low key. Thor?”

“Meet Dr. Y/N Y/L/N, boys, professor of biological and forensic anthropology at the University of Miami. What are your ph.Ds in again, love?”

“You’ve already mentioned two, but we also have antiquities, art history, archaeology, and the big one, linguistics.”

“She’s a bit of a polyglot.” He gave you a proud grin as he tucked his pistol away and everyone else finally eased up. “That’s why she’s in charge of international relations, and she always comes to negotiations with me. Can’t tell you how many bad deals this girl has gotten me out of.” You beamed when he cupped your cheek lovingly and took another swig of vodka. “She also runs the body farm.”

“That’s not just a rumor?” Everyone on the other side of the table was giving you appraising glances now as Steve whistled through his teeth. “That’s supposedly the whole reason the feds haven’t been able to pin any hits on you.”

“Not a rumor.” You kissed his palm before he removed it and turned back to them. “Listen, I like you gentlemen, even though you tried to pull one over on me. It’s understandable, Carol’s operation is a pie everyone wants their fingers in. So, here’s the new offer, I take 30% of Miami profits, you get 7% of anything I move in New York, Y/N here arranges for some international introductions for you, and I arrange for all of us to have a meeting with Miss Danvers.”

“They’re also having issues with Stark’s attempts to expand, baby.” You leaned forward and took Thor’s knife when he offered it, scooping out more coke and arranging it in a couple of lines before rolling a Benjamin and snorting it off the table.

“God, I forgot about that fucker.” He took the bump you offered him with a scowl. “That asshole giving you boys trouble too?”

“Yeah.” Steve and Bucky both looked pissed now. “He poached our Queens wunderkind a month ago and we’re pretty sure he’s got at least one mole planted.”

“Well, seems that a partnership would be extremely beneficial then. Need to keep that cocksucker on the west coast where he belongs.”

“Agreed.” Bucky sighed, Steve just grunting his acquiescence. “Partners then?”

Thor grinned and offered his hand, finally relaxing when Bucky took it and shook. Steve actually smiled a little bit when he gripped his wrist tightly, the muscles in his neck loosening as he rolled his head from side to side with relief.

“Fantastic, let’s celebrate! Evie, we need champagne flutes all around and tell Mark to bring us the box of Cubans I have in the back office.” The waitress wandered off to do as instructed as Sif walked forward and dropped the duffel next to the opposite couch. “And, because I know it can sting when you think you’re gonna get away with something and the rug gets pulled out from under you, here’s a little signing bonus so there’s no hard feelings.”

Rogers actually grinned when he opened the duffel to piles of cash, turning back to the two of as he handed it off to the charming looking man who had been leaning against the pillar.

“I think this is gonna work out just fine, Buck.”

“Evie, thank you sweetheart.” Thor smiled warmly when the server got back with the stemware and cigars, handing her three hundred dollar bills before she walked off again with a blush. “Let’s drink to getting stupid fucking rich.”

You all tossed back your champagne with a chorus of whoops before diving into the revelry. Thor offered you a few puffs of his cigar before tucking between his teeth and leaning forward to talk with his new partners about all the new things Carol was doing. He squeezed your hand when you pressed a kiss to his shoulder before standing up and stretching, moving away to find Val and Sif.

“You ladies wanna come dance with me?” You asked when you found the two of them chatting with the redhead. “That coke’s got me feeling like I’m full of bees.”

“Let’s do it!” Val said with a grin, leading the four of you out of the roped off section and towards the dance floor. “This is Nat by the way.”

“Hi Nat, nice to meet you!” Val started shoving people out of the way when you reached the floor, making sure you had room to move without getting humped by idiots.

“You too! Sorry I pointed a gun at your head!” She gave you an apologetic shrug as she shouted over the music.

“Please, it happens.” You waved her off and started rolling your hips to the rhythm.

“I got shots!” Sif said, grabbing the four tiny glasses off the tray and proffering them.

You hissed at her after you tossed it back. “Goddamn it Sif, tequila?”

“Yes, tequila!!”

You just shook your head as the four of you started dancing, the rest of the crowd giving you a small circle of space. Even with the extra room, Val and Nat were right against each other, their hips rolling together while they stared each other down. Sif and you just grinned at each other as you watched the two of them.

“Oh my god, just fuck already!” You teased when Nat tucked her face into Val’s neck, earning a glare from her. “There’s no one in the basement office tonight.”

“Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of getting fucked when I’m in the middle of working, I have to save that shit for my own time. Speaking of which, looks like he wants you back.”

Heimdall gave the four of you a smile when he walked up, cocking his head and tapping his finger against his thigh impatiently as you moved slowly to follow after him with a half hearted pout.

“Sorry, Y/N. You know how he gets once he closes a deal.” He walked behind you back to the VIP section, staring down a few different men who looked like they were thinking of approaching you.

“I know, Heimdall. It’s one of the things I love about him. How much coke has he had?”

“Kjære!!” Thor’s voice boomed over the din of the club when he spotted you, answering your question when he stood on the couch and spread his arms wide with joy.

“Kjæreste!” You beamed at him, yelping when he jumped off the couch and bounded towards you to toss you over his shoulder and carry you back to where his new partners were waiting.

He dropped you on the couch with a small huff before curling over and devouring your mouth with his. Your breath left with him when he pulled away, sinking next to you before pulling your legs over his lap with a happy sound.

“Can’t have a celebration without you love.” He grinned, bending over the table and scooping a good helping of cocaine onto his knife. “These boys got all sad after you left.”

“It’s true, doll.” Bucky said, his eyes blown wide from the drugs while he watched Thor rub some coke over your gums before reaching forward to kiss you again. “You might be the most interesting person here.”

Your light laugh turned into a moan when you felt the cool steel of Thor’s knife drag over your chest slowly, leaving a thin line of powder over the curve of your breast.

“I am pretty fascinating.” You teased, biting your lip when Thor bent forward and snorted the coke off your tit. “Did you have any questions you wanted to ask me?”

“Shit, I did but I can’t remember exactly what they were right now.” He was mesmerized as he watched Thor run another line over the opposite breast. “Steve?”

“I’ve got nothing.” Rogers tugged on the collar of his shirt when Thor uncrossed your legs and drew a line on the inside of your thigh before bending over and inhaling it slowly, moaning when the scent of you filled his lungs and added to his high.

“Fuck, that’s the best way to do lines.” He hissed as he sat back up, sniffling a few times before turning to the men who couldn’t stop staring at you. “You boys really ought to try it.”

A deep laugh rumbled his chest when all three of your heads snapped to him. Thor was extremely possessive, he loved using you to tease whoever he was dealing with, dangling you in front of them like bait before snapping you away and fucking you senseless. There was a meeting three months ago where some idiot put a hand on your leg and Thor had almost beat him to death before Heimdall and Val could pull him off.

You ran your tongue over your bottom lip nervously as you studied his face, trying to determine if he was playing some dangerous game with all of you that was going to end with you stitching someone up.

“I smelled you love.” He purred in your ear, drawing you to your feet and turning you until you were facing the two men, his breath fanning warmly over your neck as he pressed his chest to your back. “I’d love to believe that’s all for me, but you’ve been squirming ever since you set eyes on them.” You moaned when he started walking you towards where Barnes and Rogers were eyeing you hungrily. “But tell me you don’t want it and we can stop.”

“Fuck, you spoil me.” You grinned at him over your shoulder and accepted his soft kiss before moving to sit on the mirrored table. “Go ahead boys.”

Bucky leaned forward first with a deep growl, flipping his knife through his fingers before digging it into the cocaine and moving back to your chest. Your eyes turned to Steve’s as you gasped at the feel of the cold blade dragging over your breasts, grinning when you saw him start to palm his cock through his slacks. A low moan escaped your lips when Bucky leaned forward and inhaled the powder off your skin, his lips ghosting over the swell of your tits before he pulled back with a groan.

“You gotta try that Stevie.” He muttered, leaning back to scoop up more cocaine as his free hand brushed over your thigh, teasing the hem of your skirt up towards your hip as he spread your legs wide.

Steve stood up and prowled towards you as Bucky knelt between your thighs and started drawing lines over them with his blade. Your breath was starting to get shallow, and when Steve curled his hand lightly around your throat at the same time Bucky’s face skimmed over your leg you let out a whine. The blonde slid his jacket off and grabbed his own knife, his thumb tracing the swell of your bottom lip as he collected some powder.

Bucky had run out of blow but kept his face where it was, his lips pressing into your soft skin as he moaned at the smell of you. Steve moved very slowly, his thumb tracing your jaw while he pressed the flat of the knife against your chest.

The throbbing between your legs was starting to get too intense, and when Buck’s breath fanned over your core at the same time Steve pressed his face to your chest, you almost passed out. Steve let out a low moan as he buried his face between your tits, nuzzling them with a growl while you wound your fingers through his hair. He started drawing the zipper at the front of your dress down even further, his lips ghosting over every inch of exposed skin before the dress was completely undone.

”Fuck me.” Steve hissed, stepping back and taking you in with a satisfied hum. “You seeing this Barnes?”

Bucky rested his chin on your thigh for a beat, gazing up at you through his lashes and grinning as his eyes raked over your naked body.

”Yeah I see it. You’re a lucky man, Odinson.”

You turned your gaze over your shoulder and found Thor grinning at you, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he squeezed the outline of his cock through his slacks.

”That I am, but so are you boys. This is a one night only deal, and only because she wants it, otherwise I’d have killed the two of you hours ago.” The gleam in his eye was full of danger for a moment before it relaxed into lust. “You get to fuck her however she wants; eat her out, fuck her tits, feel those perfect lips or that tight ass wrapped around your cocks. But that pussy is mine, and if either of you even try to slip it into that pretty little hole, I can’t be held responsible for what I might do.”

”That seems fair to me,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Stevie?”

As soon as Thor had stopped talking Steve’s mouth was on yours, his teeth tugging on your lips until you opened up for him and he could curl his tongue against your own. Barnes just laughed before diving between your thighs, his arms wrapping around your legs as he mouthed hungrily at your sex. You whined into Rogers’ mouth when Bucky’s tongue found your clit at the same time Steve started rubbing his thumbs over your nipples, feeling his grin when you arched into his palms.

The way the two of them were working you over made you think this wasn’t their first time sharing. Every time Steve found one of your zones, Bucky’s tongue was right against your clit, making you want to scream. Steve’s hands were almost lazy in the way they traced your tattoo, the pads of his fingers still skimming over your nipples as he admired the artwork.

”Jesus Christ.” Was the only thing you could think of to say when Bucky’s nose rubbed against your clit at the same time he curled his tongue inside you.

”Not exactly, gorgeous.” Steve’s grin was wicked as he continued to trail his fingers over the ink that swirled between your breasts while you leaned against him. “This ink is fucking impressive, you should let me do a piece for you if you’re ever in New York.”

The answer you were about to give died in your throat when Bucky sucked on your clit and you came without warning, a jolt of electricity traveling up your spine as your release soaked his mouth and chin while you swallowed a shriek. He moaned into your cunt at the taste of your cum before leaning back on his heels and grinning at Steve.

”Your turn Stevie. Dunno if it’s the coke or her but I don’t think I’ve ever come from eating pussy before.”

Your eyes bulged when you saw the wet stain over the shrinking tent in his slacks, your chest swelling at the thought that nothing but the taste of you could make a man come undone.

The two of them shifted to switch positions, the feel of Steve drawing lines on your thighs sending a small jolt of pleasure up your spine. Bucky tilted your head up so he could kiss you, sliding his tongue between your lips and grinning when you whined at the taste of yourself. You felt Steve’s beard scratching your skin when he pressed his face to your thigh and inhaled, growling when he finally got a close look at the plump and swollen prize between your legs.

”I dunno how he can get anything done with you around, doll.” Bucky purred as he started trailing his lips down your throat.

“We’re very good at multitasking.” You gasped, Bucky’s lips wrapping around your nipple at the same time Steve’s tongue ran over your slit in a heavy stripe.

His low chuckle vibrated your chest and made you keen, arching your back into him when he brought his metal hand up to palm your neglected breast. Steve’s tongue was still swirling lazily through your folds, savoring the taste of you while his cock throbbed against the edge of the couch. He shoved two fingers inside you and you choked on a sob when his lips wrapped around your clit.

Bucky’s tongue had raised your nipple to a sensitive peak, the brush of his lips over it sending a jolt through your body that echoed in your core, making you clench around Steve’s fingers with a gasp. The sensations were too much for you and you collapsed back against the table, Bucky following you and moving his face to your other breast while you wrapped your thighs around Steve’s neck.

You tilted your head back to find Thor, your body relaxing as much as it could when your eyes met his. The anger you were worried you would find wasn’t there, just pure desire as he watched the two men take you apart with lust blown pupils. He was still slowly palming his cock through his pants, and you moaned at the sight of his bulge growing larger while he looked at you.

”Are you close, love?” He grinned when you nodded at him, unable to speak as Steve flicked kitten licks against your clit while Bucky sucked on your nipple. “You go ahead and come for these boys one more time then I’ll fuck you like you deserve.”

It was like his permission was all you needed, your back arching off the table when your body spasmed and your release flowed into Steve’s mouth and over his beard. He and Bucky both groaned as they watched you come down, the occasional aftershock vibrating through your body as they stepped away with reluctance.

“Gentlemen, I look forward to a long a fruitful partnership. Please feel free to use of the lounge for the rest of the night.” Thor only had eyes for you as you slowly rose from the table on shaky legs and drew your dress closed to cover your nakedness. “Would really love to stay but I have some business to attend to in the top office.”

You felt their eyes following you as Thor wrapped his arm around your waist and started to guide you towards the office, Heimdall walking in front of you to clear the crowd out of the way. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and gave you a knowing grin as Thor started dragging you to the office.

Thor growled once he shoved you inside, slamming the door closed and cutting off the noise from the floor once you were alone in the soundproofed room.

“You did so fucking good baby.” He purred as he stepped into you, his hands roaming all over your body while he started walking you towards the wall of glass that looked out over the club. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, you’d get fucked over a whole lot.” You teased, running your tongue over his bottom lip when he pressed his mouth to yours with a moan.

He chuckled against your lips, keeping your mouth molded to his while he turned the front of your body to press against the glass.

“Those two fuckers got one taste of you and I bet they’ll do anything you ask now.” He scraped his teeth over the curve of your neck towards you shoulder, slowly removing his suit jacket and shirt quickly. “They still watching, love?”

You found the lounge and grinned when you saw the two New Yorkers staring up at you from the floor, fighting the urge to give them a wave.

“Yeah, they are.” HIs hand curled lightly around your throat and you whined as he tilted your head back and started to drag the zipper of your dress down slowly.

“Good.” He slid your dress off your shoulders and tossed it aside, rubbing his face in your hair as he worked at undoing his belt one handed. “Want them to watch you scream when you come all over my cock.”

He gave you no warning before spearing into you, grinning when you let out a satisfying shriek. You didn’t get a chance to adjust before he was thrusting into you violently, his hips slapping against your ass as he pressed your tits against the glass.

This was different from your slow afternoon lovemaking where he took his time drawing every drop of pleasure from your fucked out body. All he wanted when he was coked up after a deal was to take you fast like a damn animal, claiming you as his for everyone to see.

Fuck if you didn’t love every second of it.

Your legs started to shake as your pussy clenched around him, moaning when he wrapped a hand around your front to dig into your breast, his other hand increasing the pressure on your throat. He growled into your shoulder when you arched into his hand, pressing you even further into the glass while you whined.

“Close, I’m so close. I’m gonna come, don’t fucking stop.” He grinned at your babbling, somehow increasing his pace even more until you were literally bouncing off the glass.

When he released your breast and hooked his hand under your knee, drawing it up to your waist and opening you up even further so the tip of his cock could kiss your cervix, you lost it. You let out an inhuman wail, tears streaming down your cheeks while your body tried to curl back on itself. He caught you before you collapsed, holding you up while you vibrated around him, your pussy milking his cock in waves as stars exploded behind your eyes.

You felt his cock throbbing inside you and hissed when he sank his teeth into your shoulder, warmth blooming from your core as he coated your satiny walls with thick ropes of spend. He fucked it into with stuttering jabs, his hips jerking erratically until his cock stopped twitching and started to soften.

The two of you panted against each other, Thor scooping you up and turning you to face him as he slid out of you with a soft wet squelch. You hummed happily when he pressed his lips against yours and nipped at them softly.

“Herregud, du er jævla perfekt, kjære ” He groaned, holding you close as the two of you sank to the floor. “Jeg lar deg aldri gå, du er min.“

“Jeg er din for alltid.” You murmured as he laid back against the floor, pressing your lips to the tattooed wreath of blåveis and bergfrue over his heart that marked him as yours. “Jeg elsker deg.”

Steve and Bucky turned their attention back to the lounge with reluctance, doing their best to ignore Sam and Clint’s shit eating grins. Rogers took another bump of coke before sinking into the couch and chugging directly from the bottle of bourbon. Barnes just grabbed another stogie, biting the end off and spitting it away before tucking it between his lips.

“Think we may need to get ourselves one of those, Stevie.”

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your-mums-nuts · 2 years

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13 with the group!

( I hope you don't mind but I am going to be your request generator now )

Generate away love, I love it!!

"This is stupid, and kinda fun"

"Reagan!! Gigi's right behind you!"

"I got her" Reagan called, silently thanking Brett for the heads up, aimed her (paintball) gun and fired. It hit Gigi square in the fave, god knows her makeup costs more then Reagan's groceries, she better start running.

"I'm coming for you bitch" but she wasn't, because Reagan hid in one of her special panic corners that was currently barricaded by the office chairs, supplies and just anything she found lying around. Though they couldn't see her, she could see them all.

Myc had Glenn cornered and was using a special method Reagan didn't love, it involved him consuming paint capsules and then dispensing them out of his tentacles. Glenn was terrified, and for good reason.

Gigi was still stalking the room, gun at the ready, and Reagan had to suppress the urge to throw something to the other side of the room to make her go search over there, someone would surely see her arm.

Where was her teamate??

Reagan hadn't bothered to check on Brett after escaping Gigi, but she felt she should return his favour and help him escape Andres clutches, who was incredibly competitive.

Reagan stalked out from her hiding spot, careful to avoid Gigi's rage and Glenn's suffering, she threw a quick glance at Myc, was he fucking enjoying this? She didn't stay to find out and instead slipped down the staircase leading to Andres 'secret' lab.

"Brett?" She called when she was out of hearing range from those temperamental bastards. "Brett let's go I've got the flag".

"Brett's not coming with you" it would've been ominous had Reagan not recognised the smell of weed and cheap vodka the moment Andre opened his mouth.

"alright, where are you Andre?" Reagan drawled, but her body proved to be quicker then her mind because next thing she knew she was dodging a hit from the bong-rat and ducking under a table.

"you can run but you can't hide Reagan"

"I'm not gonna do either" and with that, Reagan shot out of her hiding place and shot the shadowy figure that was slowly approaching her. She won! They'd all been shot and-

BANG!

She was shot in the lower back from behind, it stung for a hot second before reducing to a dull ache. She was more confused than in pain, really.

"what the-" Reagan started, but the lights flickered on and Andres sinister plan had been revealed. There was Brett, poor Brett, tied to a mobile vacuum cleaner and gagged with which Reagan can only hope is a dog toy. And she'd shot him. Behind her stood their successor, the great and terrible Andre.

"sucked in motherfuckers!" He grinned, hopping from the desk he'd dramatically perched himself on and removing his night-vision goggles. "We said no gadgets!" Reagan complained, moving towards Brett to untie and ungag him, "that tasted sticky" he whined once it was off and Reagan ignored the comment.

"you said no gadgets, I certainly don't remember agreeing to such a thing" Andre remarked, tossing the goggles somewhere in his mess of a lab. "If you'll excuse me I need to gloat my victory, will you be alright untying him?"

Reagan shot the man a deadpan look but nodded seeing as it was mostly untied already. "Good game Ray-dog" Brett grinned, running his hands down his clothes in a vain attempt to remove the paint stains.

"that was so dumb" Reagan groaned, and then added, to Brett's delight, "but also kind-of fun".

"wasn't it?!"

"I've never felt so cool shooting at people! And I have literally shot at people!"

#brett hand #reagan ridley #inside job #brett inside job #netflix inside job #gigi inside job #glenn dolphman #andre inside job #magic myc #myc inside job #inside job drabbles #drabbles

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 3 years

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Old (2021)

Oh you guys. You guyyyyyys. Buckle the fuck up, I am so pumped to tell you about this absolutely GONZO mummified deuce of a movie. Spoilers will be had in this one, because you need to know everything.

Old is the latest from M. Night Shyamalan and like....I think we all know M. Night’s track record. For every Sixth Sense, we also get a Happening or a Village. In some ways, he’s the most exciting director working today because every new film is a 50/50 coin toss, and mama loves living on the edge. The gist of this latest roll of the dice is that a group of different families who have all come to stay at a remote luxury beach resort get invited to go to a secluded private beach for the day, and after they arrive they discover they can’t leave. That’s not great, but the bigger problem is that they seem to be aging rapidly - like 2 years older every hour or so. That’s a solid “how are we gonna get outta this one” bottle episode premise, and in the hands of a better writer, it could be a fun sci-fi romp. M. is NOT that writer.

Some thoughts:

I should have known it would all go wrong from the terrible foreshadowing starting at the very beginning scene. The mom of our main family, Prisca (Vicky Krieps) says “You have such a beautiful voice, I can’t wait to hear it when you’re older.” The dad, Guy (Gael Garcia Bernal) says, “Don’t rush this moment, enjoy the present while you can.” BECAUSE THE CHARACTERS WON’T BE ABLE TO LATER, DO YOU GET IT? dO yOU GEt iT? Wife leaned over and said “look at all the ferns - the oldest plants!” That last one was probably her projecting, but the point stands: there is nothing subtle about Old.

There’s a lot of just like, shouting out loud the things that are currently happening onscreen. “She’s having a seizure!” “People who go back the way we came black out!” “The rust has entered your bloodstream; it acts like poison!” That’s how you tell stories, right? Just having characters point out events that are occurring right in front of their stupid fucking faces with no other commentary or reflection?

An additional element that feels woefully ignorant at best and malicious at worst is the inclusion of a black male character (Aaron Pierre) who 1) is a rapper 2) is named Mid-Sized Sedan [I’ll give you a moment to deal with that detail emotionally] 3) says the single line of dialogue “Damn.” at least 4 times and 4) suffers the bloodiest, most violent onscreen death at the hands of a racist white man who is revealed to have paranoid schizophrenia. There are other gruesome deaths onscreen, to be sure, but the worst are body horror nightmares that could never occur in the real world - a woman whose bones are breaking and setting in the wrong position nearly instantaneously until she resembles a horrifying spider creature, and the aforementioned rust-in-the-bloodstream trick that leads to a Jeff-Goldblum-in-The Fly-bubbling-skin infection kinda deal. But Mid-Sized Sedan just gets stabbed in the chest repeatedly, brutally, a bunch of times by a white guy who pleads fear for his life even though MSS posed no danger to him, and it all happens onscreen when so many other characters are offered the mercy of offscreen deaths. I’m not sure if M. is trying to throw some real-world horror in and he’s just shit at it, or if it really didn’t occur to him how malicious this inclusion feels in a fantasy narrative, and I don’t really care. If you have a black character in your story and they die, you better think really long and hard about how it happens and what it means and it’s clear no one did that here.

Nothing to do with the film itself, but it did tickle me that someone brought a tiny infant to my pretty packed screening. The baby was very chill, thank goodness, and as far as I know did not age up to a kindergartner during the course of the film.

There is a Very Good Dog, a Yorkie, present for the first part of the film, but unfortunately the dog dies. It occurs offscreen, and given the premise of what’s going on on this beach, it’s not a shock when it happens BUT STILL.

The old age makeup, at least on Prisca is pretty great. Good job makeup department!

At one point, Guy gets attacked by another beachgoer, and his eyesight is failing so he has a hard time fighting back. But you are surrounded by sand, my dude, and you can still see blurry shapes. You’re not gonna throw some sand in the eyes until you’ve been stabbed like 10 times? Not gonna try to push him down, or sweep the fucking leg, or do anything but just keep raising your arms and getting stabbed while yelling “I’ll protect you!” I’ve seen stale tuna sandwiches with better defense mechanisms than you.

Like most fantastical premises, there are only a certain number of ways this narrative can end that really make any sense. It reminds me quite a bit of 2019’s Brightburn which was like “what if Superman but evil?” Either everyone is gonna die, or someone is going to improbably survive and you better have a real neat explanation for how that’s possible. Oh M. Night, when will you realize that your explanations are never as clever as you think they are? There’s no “twist” here really, simply a reveal, and it’s the equivalent of eating one of those sugar-free, gluten-free, egg-free, dairy-free snack cakes I broke down and ate out of desperation when I was on Weight Watchers. That shit is “food” in the same way that the climax is a “logical explanation for all this.” Big Pharma is luring sick people to the resort through targeted ads, then arranging these excursions to the wacky time beach in order to test how medicine they secretly slipped into the guests’ drinks works over decades of life. These sneaky medical breakthroughs are saving hundreds of thousands of people’s lives, we’re told, and the scientists offer a moment of silence for each fallen group of unwitting human lab rats after they inevitably die. Because if there’s one thing the world needs right now, it’s more distrust of pharmaceutical companies and the ethics of modern science! I can’t think of one possible reason we’d want to portray molecular biologists, immunologists, and virologists in a positive light right now, can you? When will those assholes get off their high horses and stop being universally trusted and beloved by everyone, am I right??

My saddest takeaway, tbh, is that this is a stacked international cast, with at least half the roles going to POC - this is the future liberals want, etc etc - and the result is THIS.

Did I Cry? Of course not.

Not all is terrible! It’s a beautiful movie to look at, because M. Night’s direction is never the problem, but combined with the script, the acting, and the absurd narrative leaps needed to make this story make even a little bit of sense, the whole thing turns into a mess. Unfortunately, getting Old with M. Night is less “leisurely retirement at a plush resort in Florida” and more “rancid can of Ensure and a poop-choked pair of Depends.”

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#121in2021 #old #old movie #old 2021 #m. night shyamalan #old review #vicky krieps #gael garcia bernal #alex wolff #aaron pierre #movie reviews #film reviews

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ladyeliot · 3 years

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It’s been a long, long time

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never knew what fate had in store for you, as if it was testing what it had offered you one day it took away from you the next. It was almost four years after Steve gave himself up to save the world, but you had never given up hope of being with him again.

Warnings: Angst. Disappearance. Fluff ending.

Word count: 2883

A/N: Captain America First Avenger / Avengers Endgame. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Song: It’s been a long, long time - Harry James

1949.

The rumours of his possible return were fading with time, but hopes were not falling.

Nearly four years had passed since the end of the Second World War, and the consequences were soon felt worldwide, especially by those who had survived that tragic period. You had been present from start to finish, being a potent participant in the covert operations linking the US and the UK. Although you had not been on the front line fighting as a soldier, you had been on the front line commanding the actions they would take. In 1939 you became a member of the British Royal Military, then a recommendation from a superior officer led to you joining the Special Operations Executive, a British spy agency, changing your destiny, causing MI5 to contact you, and then you were seconded to the Strategic Scientific Reserve, a top-secret Allied war agency during World War II, created by President Roosevelt. Too many things happened in a single year, too many things that would change the course of your history, but the most important was yet to happen.

In 1943 you were assigned to Colonel Chester Phillips' training base, known as Camp Lehigh, where you were assigned to supervise the candidate division of Project Renaissance, the project that changed everything. Project Renaissance was a highly secret project run by the United States Government. Its aim was to create super soldiers to be deployed during World War II against the Axis powers, thus having a great advantage in strategic warfare, however things didn't go as planned and they only had one success, a young man from Brooklyn named Steve Rogers.

You could never deny that you didn't notice him the first moment you saw him, he instantly caught your attention in two ways. The first of them was his physical shape, he stood out for his small stature compared to the other cadets, and his physical appearance looked sickly, although his medical record didn't say anything about it. On the other hand, the other aspect that impressed and inspired you was his courage and endurance to face each of the tests they had to pass, as well as his cunning, all of which won you over, as well as the generals of the project, as he was selected for the Renaissance project. The time you spent together at Camp Leigh made you realise the determination and humility he possessed, traits that the other members of the group, or any other man you had met before, possessed only to a slight degree.

The day the experiment was carried out, that is, the injection of the Super Soldier serum into Steve was another turning point in your life, the young man who went into that machine was not the same as the one who would come out of it, at least for everyone present, a human being went in and a super soldier came out, although for you he was still the same Steve Rogers with 30 centimetres more height and greater muscle mass. From then on he became the secret weapon that would overthrow Hitler, as the leader of the project, Dr. Erskine, was killed which meant that Steve was the only one of his kind.

You would have liked to have been able to say that your relationship was moving towards a more effective environment, but you were really living in a period of war, plus your character did not easily fit in with the word love, it never really did, or rather, you had never shown any interest in any man. You were rude, you had suffered enough harassment in your job, a job by and for men, to become insensitive in several cases. You were selective with your friends and also with the people you could trust, that's why every time you felt any affection for someone you stopped it, and that's what happened with Steve at the beginning.

Frankly, there were not too many moments to show your affection for each other, nor to enrich it, but every occasion that brought you together, there were certain feelings in the air that were never expressed in words. You encouraged him to be more than a lab rat or a fair hand for the soldiers at the front, you also helped him from your position with the missions, which after his triumph in rescuing the soldiers of the 107th infantry, were assigned to him. You complemented each other, you understood each other in many aspects that no one had ever understood, you had faith in him and he in you, that is why deep inside you were waiting for the day when the war would end to discover what it would be like to be able to dance with him without any worries around you, but it was not that simple.

As if the universe itself was mocking you, everything it had offered you was taken away in a breath. Even if you had never extrapolated it, your heart shrank every time he marched on a mission in enemy territory, you used to find yourself behind the controls of the base of operations that commanded his missions waiting for his voice or news from him to indicate what the situation was, but the last time what you saw was different. It was all a consequence of your attack on HYDRA HQ, you had worked out a strategy to take out their leader, the Red Skull, Steve was inside and you later came in with the assault guard and became part of the operation. Things had gone a little shaky during the operation, as the Red Skull managed to gain access to a ship and almost escaped from the place, but at that moment you appeared as if you were a breath of air together with Colonel Chester Phillips to offer him the last chance for Steve to finish him off and gain access to the inside of the ship that was about to escape, but not before sharing your first and last kiss. Every day you remember the last words you said to him in person "Go get him." before watching him jump into the plane and disappear into the snowy mountains.

After that, the ship became a direct path to death unbeknownst to you. A few hours later, from the command post, you managed to maintain a direct connection with the ship, specifically with Steve who was still inside it.

"Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?" you all heard from the intercom.

"Steve, is that you? Are you alright?" your heart raced as it did every time he was away from you on a mission.

"Y/N! Schmidt's dead.

That brought a breath of relief that neither of you had experienced for a long time, you could see a little light at the end of the tunnel that was getting closer and closer to you, but what you heard next put the light out again.

"What about the plane?" you asked still worried about his situation.

"That's a little bit tougher to explain," Steve's words were choppy.

It really was complicated, the plane was loaded with explosive devices and was clearly headed for New York City, that meant there was only one possibility and you all knew what it was. You tried to talk him out of it, to find a new solution, but time was running out.

"Y/N, this is my choice," a lump formed in your throat at those words. "Y/N?"

"I'm here," you managed to say with watery eyes and a hand to your lips.

"I'm gonna need a rain check on that dance," you heard through the intercom, as a sharp gust of air rushed in between his words.

"Alright," you hid a soft sob. "A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club."

"You got it," he said firmly, making it seem real that he was going to show up there on Saturday.

"Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late. Understood?"

"You know, I still don't know how to dance," a wistful smile appeared on your face at his words.

"I'll show you how. Just be there," you said almost begging him.

"We'll have the band play somethin' slow," Steve picked up the pace of his words, "I'd hate to step on your...

That was the last time you heard his voice, the line connecting the intercom to Steve went static with a soft continuous noise, that's when the tears flowed freely down your cheeks.

"Steve? Steve? Steve?"

Of course, life puts us all to the test, we believe we need redemption for the acts committed in the past, that often makes us lose hope that better times will come. Almost four years have passed since those last events, since you shared your first and last kiss with your Captain America, since you heard his last words and since you felt that thing called love. Now your life had been turned upside down, you had dreamed for too long of meeting him, of seeing his face again and not only through those war films, but your life went on and you couldn't keep yourself stuck thinking about him, that's why you had decided to leave the Strategic Scientific Reserve and go into a new project with Howard Stark, called S.H.I.E.L.D.

It was unusual for the month of January to have that warm morning out, although it was actually quite comforting as it had brightened up your day, and even when you got home you opted to start cooking to the rhythm of whatever song was playing on the radio, which was unusual for you. The open windows allowed the sun's rays to stream into the living room, offering that homely touch that the little house in the middle of a residential neighbourhood lacked. Due to your countless projects and missions in the SSR you had not been able to enjoy home life as much as you would have liked, although it was really your decision, that house was too quiet and too big for you alone, although the radio offered you the company you sometimes needed.

As if it were a special event you had brought out the table linen and arranged the table in the parlour to eat there for the first time, normally you used the table in the kitchen, for you did not waste too much time on your meals, but this day was a new beginning, a new year, a good time to work out new habits. You opted to open a bottle of wine, which had been a gift from your dear friend Howard Stark, and poured yourself a glass while you waited for the chicken to make its acquaintance in the oven. The rhythmic melody of Nat King Cole along with your glass of wine lifted spirits that hadn't been this high for some time.

"Love is all that I can give to you," you intoned as you walked around the kitchen.

The midday seemed to be going smoothly, until a crashing noise from the front door brought you to a screeching halt. "Ogh, Mrs. Foster," you said to yourself before taking a sip from your glass of wine to fill your spirits. Mrs Foster was the neighbour from across the street who was always knocking on your door whenever she could, hoping to whisper about the other neighbours and glean as much information about you as possible, the funny thing was that she always barged in at the most inopportune times.

"I'm coming!" you exclaimed, taking off your apron and placing it on the counter. "I'm there!"

When you reached the front door you took five seconds to exhale the air inside you, position your dress correctly, take another breath, roll your eyes and expose a wide grin before you very quickly lowered the door handle. We've been talking before about all the turning points that changed your life and shaped your destiny, okay, that was one of them, maybe the most important one of all, the one that set the rest of your life on track.

"Hello Mrs. Fos-!"

Your voice disappeared, your vocal cords seemed to break at that moment, your wide, false smile also vanished as if it had never been on your face, your eyes seemed to have no eyelids and your lungs ran out of air, leaving you breathless. What you saw when you opened that door was your whole life, every moment appeared in front of you as if it were a frame. They say that happens when you are about to die, but it happened to you when the person you had loved had returned from the dead and was prostrate before you. You couldn't tell whether your reaction was the most humane or what someone else would have done in your place because you had never met anyone who had. Soldiers sometimes took long months to return home after the war ended, but it had taken Steve almost four years to do so.

Perhaps there had been hundreds or thousands of times you had imagined that moment, and now you didn't know what to do, your limbs were stiff, you were grateful for it or you would have collapsed in those moments. You kept holding the doorknob tightly, while he stood there on your porch staring at you, not knowing what to do. They were the longest minutes of your whole life, or maybe they were only a few seconds, you didn't know how time worked in those moments, but that didn't matter, your emotions recovered when you looked into his eyes, those blue eyes that you had dreamed of so many nights and they were watery, that was the sign that told you that this was not a dream, it was real life.

The air opened again and passed through your lungs in the form of a gasp, you shared the wateriness of his eyes in yours and in a moment you were wrapped in his arms. You could feel him again, or rather you could feel him around you for the first time. His arms were around your back bringing your body closer to his.

"You're... here." you murmured against his chest almost afraid that your words would make him disappear again.

"I'm home," he whispered against your forehead before kissing it and pulling away to look at your face.

It really was him, you noticed the odd changed feature, as if the years had passed him by more quickly, but there was no doubt that it was Steve. He placed his hands on your cheeks cradling your face, that sensation made you close your eyes as you placed your hands on his. Gingerly, you felt his breath collide against you and the longing for his lips that had haunted you for so many years came to an end.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours.

"No, you're home," you murmured, taking his hand and bringing his palm to your lips.

The open windows of the living room let out the melody of the radio, as if it were one of those Hollywood feature films with its own soundtrack. For a few long minutes you stood there on the porch of your house, oblivious to everything around you, oblivious to curious stares or if the chicken was burning in the oven, there was nothing more relevant than the two of you.

After a few minutes without taking your eyes off each other you took his hand and went inside your home, there were no unnecessary questions, no comments that could break the moment, your gazes were pleased to observe each other and as if your thoughts were connected and the person in charge of playing the songs on the radio knew it, one of Steve's favourite songs began to play. Harry James' voice came into the room, giving you the moment you had wanted for four years in your case, but for Steve it had been many more.

“Never thought that you would be

Standing here so close to me

There's so much I feel that I should say

But words can wait until some other day”

His arm found position around your waist and your face found position on his chest. You listened to his heartbeat work to the rhythm of the melody, you could never have imagined ever feeling like this again, you would have made a pact with the devil on too many occasions to feel it. It was so unreal that you had to lift your face from his chest to look at his face again, to find out if it really was Steve in front of you, it was.

“Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It’s been a long, long time

Haven't felt like this, my dear

Since I can't remember when

It’s been a long, long time”

Life had offered you a new opportunity to enjoy it together, and you were never going to miss it.

“You'll never know how many dreams

I've dreamed about you

Or just how empty they all seemed without you

So kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time”

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hottestthingalive · 3 years

Text

Changes, Tricks, and Trust

He does what he can. And sometimes, doing what he can means that, when he opens the door for trick-or-treaters while his dad is wrangling Remus into his pirate costume and finds a man holding hands with a kid younger than even Roman and Remus (wearing a scientist costume and a cat costume, respectively,) who introduces himself as “Logan Abbott, and this is Patton. You must be Janus,” he just glares, and slams the door in their faces.

—

In which the Carroll siblings conspire against their father’s new boyfriend, Logan makes a promise, and Janus has a grudge against omelets.

Notes: Look, okay, we’re all very aware this is two hours past Halloween, and an hour into No-Content November, but I wrote this in a day and am operating under the logic that it is both Halloween and not November somewhere, so let’s pretend we’re all okay with this and move on. Virgil also calls Roman and Remus peanut butter and jelly, which makes up for all my sins.

Roman also knows lots of words he shouldn’t at his age, because I am, in fact, projecting myself at six onto him. Let him have a big vocabulary!

(He also mispronounces most of the words. This is still projecting. I apologize in advance.)

Many thanks to @smileyzs, who stayed up far too late to help me edit, and the rest of @waffle-gang-incorrect-quotes, who had to listen to me ranting about this as I wrote it. Y’all deserve the world. Thank you for putting up with me, and this fic.

Warnings: Implied gore (but not really), food mentions (mostly candy), a fair bit of angst, Janus manipulating his brothers but not in an intentionally cruel way.

Relationships: Romantic Analogical, familial logicality, familial virgil, janus, roman and remus, platonic loceit, intrulogical, and logince.

Words: 5328

Ao3

Enjoy!

—

“Roman, Remus,” Virgil says calmly, holding up a knife, stained with guts and gore, the key piece of evidence to the brutal mutilations of two innocents, “who decided to carve ‘Logan is a butt’ into our pumpkins?”

They point at each other, faces the picture of wide-eyed innocence. Virgil is not fooled.

“Janus, do you know anything about this?” he asks, turning away from the twins to look at his nine year old, who is currently pretending to be very occupied with the book he is reading at the dinner table. Virgil wonders if Janus knows that he hasn’t turned a page in the last five minutes. Probably not.

“Oh, why would I ever do that?” Janus wonders, looking up from the book, his puppy-eyes matching those of the twins. “It really is too bad though. Clearly, you can’t have Logan over for Halloween anymore. Tragic.”

Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Janus, you’re the only one tall enough to reach the knife block, and I found the knife hidden under Remus’ bed. I know it was you three.” He puts the knife down on the table, really hoping the pumpkin guts won’t stain the wood, and says “Kids, remember what we said about playing with knives without adult supervision?”

“Not to do it,” the twins mumble in unison. Janus says “Do it only when we’re in trouble, like defending ourselves from a vicious intruder about to invade our home?” instead, which was not the answer Virgil was looking for, and he’s very sure Janus knows it.

“Look,” Virgil says, sitting down in one of the chairs that his kids have covered in fake cobwebs and pumpkin stickers, “I’ve already invited Logan and Patton over. And I… I really, really like him. A lot.” He turns a bit red, at that, and ignores Janus rolling his eyes. “But if you guys really think he’s that bad after you meet him tonight, I’ll break up with him, okay? You three are always going to be my top priority. Just promise me you’ll keep an open mind, yeah?”

“Okay,” Roman agrees, and runs to jump up into Virgil’s lap, burying his head in Virgil’s shoulder. “I’m sorry we messed up the pumpkins and were mean to Mr. Logan, Dad.”

“It’s okay, peanut butter,” Virgil tells him. He expected Roman to be the apologetic one — for a six year old, his son has developed quite the sense of right and wrong. He’s a bit more surprised when Remus does the same, squirming into the hug and saying “I’m sorry we called him a butt.” He snickers, a bit, which makes Virgil think he’s not all that sorry, but he lets it go.

“Thank you, jelly,” he says, and looks expectantly at Janus.

“Sure, whatever,” Janus says, snapping the book closed. “I’m sorry we messed up your decorations, Dad.”

“I don’t care about the decorations, hon,” Virgil reminds him. “I’m just glad you guys didn’t get hurt, okay? No more knives. Now c’mere, Jan.”

Janus begrudgingly joins the hug, wrapping his arms around Virgil and the twins both, and they just sit like that, Virgil and his children, in the quiet of the kitchen.

“Okay,” he says finally, “let's get you into your costumes, yeah?”

—

Janus just wants his dad to be happy.

He saw what happened the last times his dad went on dates. He got all excited. Dressed up. Kissed his sons goodbye, smiling and happy and practically dancing on clouds.

And then, one day, he’d come home a bit off. He’d put on a smile, he’d act like everything was fine, but then he’d make them omelets for dinner.

Janus hates omelets, because Dad only makes omelets when he’s sad.

He’s heard his dad talking about it on the phone late at night with Uncle Remy, who isn’t really their uncle, but who calls himself their uncle every time he comes over anyways. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Dad will say, with his voice choked up like he’s crying, and Janus will stand with his back against the door and hear Remy’s voice murmur something soothing, always including curse words about his dad’s ex which Janus isn’t supposed to know the meanings of.

Janus isn’t supposed to be up, on those nights. But he is, usually, staying up after they’re put to bed every time Dad makes omelets for dinner, because he knows that once he hangs up, he can wander into his dad’s room with some mumbled excuse about nightmares and do his best to comfort him without mentioning the breakup at all.

“Who was that?” his dad asks as he enters the room, holding Remus in his arms, who is finally in his costume, and not running around naked, as he has been for the last eight minutes.

“No one,” Janus says, the picture of innocence, and then the doorbell rings again. “I’ll get it!”

“No, it’s fine,” his dad says, already crossing the room towards the door. “I’ve got it, honey. Thank you, though!”

He opens the door, and his face transforms, going from Regular-Dad-Face to his Sappy-Dumb-Blushy-Face. Janus hates the Sappy-Dumb-Blushy-Face.

“Logan!” Dad says, all high-pitched and pink cheeks, and Janus braces himself to be ratted out by stupid, stupid Logan Abbott. Which is a stupid name, too.

“Hello, Virgil,” says dumb, stupid, Dad-stealing Logan, whose voice is all soft, which just gets Janus angrier, because he’s making an effort to sound genuine about it. “And you must be one of the twins. What’s your name?”

Janus feels rather gratified when Remus just sticks out his tongue, though less so when his dad says “Remus, be nice,” in his Please, Kids, We Talked About This voice. “Come in! This is Janus, and Roman should be right down.”

Logan looks over at Janus as the door closes behind him, and Janus crosses his arms over his chest. He waits for him to say “Ah, yes, we met earlier,” or “Right, I remember,” or even “He slammed the door in our faces earlier,” but all that Logan says is “It’s nice to meet you, Janus,” with the kind of smile that sappy people in movies wear. He thinks, reluctantly, that it’s a nice smile, and that the kid, at least, doesn’t seem so bad.

“Octopus!” says the boy beside him, pointing at Janus, with pure glee in his big brown eyes. “Octopus!”

“I’m a kraken,” he grumbles, all kind thoughts towards his dad’s stupid boyfriend and his dumb kid gone.

This Halloween is gonna suck.

—

“You’re a dumb scientist,” Remus says to Mr. Logan, arms crossed across his chest, as Roman and Janus mutter together behind them, his dad walking with the little kid who had introduced himself as ‘Patpat!’ and whom the adults call ‘Patton’. His dad has managed to fix the pumpkins, despite all odds, and they look rather nice as they walk away, off into the wilds of the neighborhood for some trick-or-treating.

Remus has been designated the distraction while his brothers figure out a way to get Logan Abbott to go home and leave their dad alone. “You’re good at being a distraction!” Roman chirps, and Janus mutters “And you won’t betray us like Roman would.”

He is good at being a distraction. And he loves his dad more than anything (except maybe his brothers) and Janus is very smart, and if he says getting Mr. Logan to go away will make their dad happy, Remus will believe him.

Plus, it is a dumb costume.

“Why am I a dumb scientist?” asks Mr. Logan, who doesn’t seem very insulted by this, merely curious.

“Your lab coat is covered in green and blue and red,” Remus tells him, using his sword to point at the splotches. “Everyone knows potions are green and blue and purple. And you’re a butt.”

“Well,” Mr. Logan says, and though his eyes curl up like he’s smiling, his expression is still neutral, “I had my assistant deal with all the purple ones, because purple potions smell bad.” (Remus wants to laugh at that, just a little bit.) “And the red isn’t from potions.”

“What’s the red, then?” asks Remus, despite himself.

“The blood of my enemies,” says Mr. Logan matter-of-factly.

“Cool,” he breathes, looking at Logan with newfound respect. “Why’d you murder them?”

“I am an evil scientist,” he answers, adjusting his glasses. “It is in the job description.”

“Cool!”

“Also a butt as well, apparently,” Mr. Logan adds thoughtfully. “I wonder if I can add that to my official scientist business cards. ‘Dr. Logan Abbott, Mad Scientist and Butt Extraordinaire.’”

“Bad guys get business cards?” Remus asks, having forgotten altogether about being a distraction. “I’m a pirate. Do I get a business card?”

“Are you a good pirate or a bad pirate?”

“I’m a bad pirate,” he declares, waving his sword in the air. “Roro is a prince-sailor-man, like Prince Eric from Disney, and Janny is an evil kraken we have to team up against! And Dad is a wicked witch who sent the kraken.”

“A wicked witch, huh?” Mr. Logan says, glancing behind him at where Dad and Patton are. Remus follows his gaze. Dad certainly doesn’t look very wicked, even though he’s wearing a cloak and a hat and scary makeup, but maybe that’s just because he’s smiling, holding hands with Mr. Logan’s kid as Patton babbles on about something.

It’s hard for his dad to look evil in general, to Remus at least, but especially when he smiles. He’s never found Dad to be very scary, not like he’d been able to spook Roman and Janus every so often, but when he’s smiling, when he’s happy, he just looks like home.

And Mr. Logan looks so happy, too, looking at his dad, and, well, Roman is the romantic of the house, but Remus has been forced to sit through every one of his brother’s Disney movie watchings, and his favorite movie had always been the Princess Bride (which Dad thinks is too old for Remus and Roman, but lets them watch with him and Janus anyways.) Mr. Logan looks like all the movies, all the descriptions in books, all the stories of love Remus has ever heard. Love-struck, his mind supplies.

“Yes,” Mr. Logan says, looking back at Remus, that lovey-dovey gaze gone but his eyes still so, so happy, “I think you’d get a business card. What would you put on it?”

He grins, and starts describing his Evil Pirate Captain Remus Caroll cards. Privately, he thinks that, no matter what Janus says, anyone who looks at his dad like that can’t be so bad.

Plus, Logan’s evil, like him. And he’s okay with being called a butt, which means maybe he’ll teach Remus more, even better insults.

—

“Aw, beans,” Roman says when he sees Remus happily chatting with the enemy. Janus has stronger language in mind, the kind of words that would get him grounded.

Sure enough, when Remus returns to them, carrying his candy basket in one hand and his sword in the other, he scuffs his sneaker-clad foot against the ground in a way that Janus knows to mean I’m about to say something you really won’t like.

“He’s nice,” Remus says defiantly, and Janus scoffs.

Fine. He has to do everything himself, huh?

If it’s up to him to protect their dad from Logan Abbott, that’s fine. He just has to keep Roman on his side for as long as possible, right?

“So you’re abandoning us?!” he snaps anyways, because despite everything, he’s hurt. He didn’t think Remus, of all people, would turn so quickly. “What about Dad?”

“I think he likes Dad!” Remus protests. “A lot! It’s like all those Disney movies!”

Roman looks between them, clearly conflicted. Uh-oh, Janus thinks.

“Hans seemed like he liked Anna a lot!” he answers, hands on his hips. “We’ve got to be Dad’s heroes, right, Roman?”

Roman’s expression solidifies into righteous anger. “We gotta keep Dad safe,” he agrees, reaching out to hold Janus’ hand. Janus, meanwhile, tries to ignore Remus’ hurt expression the best he can.

“Here,” he says, reaching into his bag and digging out a pack of gummy worms. “I know they’re your favorite.”

Remus’ expression brightens as Janus drops them into his candy basket. “Thanks, Janjan!” he says, beaming.

“Just don’t get in our way,” he says, and turns towards Logan.

“Okay, Roman,” he says. “You know what to do.”

His brother trots forwards, successfully swapping places with Remus, who drops back to go walk with Dad and Patton. Janus comes up on Logan’s other side, pointedly looking at the ground.

“Hello, Roman, Janus,” Logan says. “How is trick-or-treating going?”

“Good!” Roman says, cheery as always, though Janus can see his hands trembling. Janus doesn’t respond.

“I like your costume,” Logan tells his brother, and sounds almost sincere about it. “You’re a prince, right?”

“A sea-prince!” Roman declares, puffing out his chest. “Thank you, Mr. Logan!” Janus shoots him a glare, and Roman just winks. He blinks, taming his expression slightly.

Huh. Seems Roman is being much smarter about this than he had thought.

“Y’know,” Roman says, cheery as ever, “Dad’s told us so much about you, Mr. Logan!”

“Does he?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “What does he tell you, then?”

“Wellllll,” Roman hums, turning on the puppy-eyes. “I’m not sure you want to know, Mr. Logan.”

“If you don’t want to tell me, that is perfectly fine,” Logan answers, which is both completely against the plan and infuriatingly heartfelt.

“He says you’re, uh, stupid,” Janus mutters, taking matters into his own hands.

“Yes!” Roman exclaims. “Very stupid. And, and a big ol’ butt! And a meanie. And insuff-bly rude to your co-workers.”

Janus barely resists to smack a hand to his face — that last bit is stolen word for word from Uncle Remy’s rants to Dad about his boss when he comes over for dinner, and mispronounced at that! — but it seems to have worked, as Logan looks rather shocked.

“Oh, did he?” he asks, seemingly distressed. Yes! “Oh dear. That’s not very kind of him, was it?”

“Nope!” Janus answers, suddenly cheerful. Yes, yes! Now stupid Logan would go away, and Dad would be safe, and there would be no omelets for dinner or anything-

“I’d better go talk to him about it,” Logan says decisively. No, no, NO!

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Roman says, experiencing the same panic, but Logan is already dropping back to walk beside Dad, picking up Patton, who giggles and throws his arms around Logan to hug him.

“Damn it!” Janus exclaims, stomping in his anger.

“You cursed!” Roman says in shock, pointing at him.

“Yes, Roman, I cursed,” he snaps. “That didn’t work at all!”

Roman looks on the verge of crying, and he instantly regrets it. “Sorry, Ro,” he says, reaching out to take his brother’s hand again. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was my dumb plan.”

“It wasn’t dumb,” Roman says, sniffling. “Mr. Logan’s the dumb one.”

“Yeah,” Janus agrees, and glances back at his dad and Logan. Dad looks all smitten again, and Logan, disgustingly, looks equally sappy. “We’re not gonna get anything done with them like that. Let’s… let’s just trick or treat with Remus for now, okay? We’ve got this.”

“Okay,” Roman agrees, and pulls Janus back to where their brother is happily munching on a Snickers bar.

They do end up having fun. And with Patton there, for all the dumb, costume-mistaking kid’s faults, adults are too busy cooing over him to care that Janus and Roman and Remus take a few pieces of candy from the bowls.

Okay, Janus thinks as they return to the house, time for Plan B.

—

Roman glares at the villainous intruder seated beside his father on the couch, as he and Remus and Janus trade candy on the floor. He’ll thwart this Logan Abbott’s evil plans! He’s a prince, after all!

“I’m gonna start making dinner,” Dad says, standing up. “I know it’s late, sorry. How does grilled cheese sound?”

“That sounds amazing,” the villain says, smiling like Hans at Anna in the beginning of the movie. “Do you want any help?”

“Just watch the kids for me, please?” Dad asks, and Roman nearly gags as he kisses the Hans-ome Villain on the cheek. Hadn’t Dad learned anything from Frozen?!

“Yeah, of course,” agrees Roman’s nefarious nemesis. Roman narrows his eyes, and checks again to make sure the fireplace is off, and that Mr. Logan — no, Dr. Logan, he’s too evil to be a mister, just look at his lab coat! — is sufficiently blocked off from it. He’s not a snowman, and neither are his brothers, but one could never be too careful! Princes always made sure to have all of their weaknesses defended against!

Janus follows their dad into the kitchen, but not before he glances at Roman and mouths Keep him busy, as he points at their vile adversary. It also could have been Reap the city, but Roman is pretty sure that doesn’t make any sense.

Remus, the traitor, is playing with Patton. “I’m the tickle zombie!” he declares loudly, sticking out his tongue and making groaning noises, wiggling his fingers at Patton, who squeals in excitement and darts away. “Twickle zomvie!” he yells to his father, who nods gravely.

“You had best run, Patton,” Mr. Logan tells him. “I hear tickle zombies are ruthless creatures.”

“Tickle zombie,” Remus groans in agreement, and Patton screams again, running towards the kitchen.

There is silence in the living room for a few minutes after that, until Logan finally says “What’s your favorite kind of candy, Roman?”

“Like I’d tell you that, you mal-volent maley-factor!” he exclaims, drawing his sword and pointing it at him. “You’d probably poison all the Starbursts!” He quickly realizes his mistake, and does his best to look even fiercer.

“Why would I do that? I like them too, I’ll have you know,” Mr. Logan says, though he looks rather surprised. “How old are you, Roman?”

“...Six,” he says grudgingly, when he can’t figure out how this bad-natured boyfriend of Dad’s would use his age against him.

“You have a very impressive vocabulary for six, Roman,” the execrable evil-doer tells him, raising an eyebrow.

“Janus and Dad and kindergarten taught me to read,” he says proudly. “And we ran out of books for me, so I’ve been reading the dictionary when we can’t go to the library!”

“That is very impressive,” Mr. Logan repeats. “What’s your favorite book?”

“It’s-” he starts, but then remembers Mr. Logan is the enemy. “None of your beeswax!”

Mr. Logan doesn’t seem as hurt by that as Roman would have expected, and silence reigns over the living room for a few minutes (save for when Patton and Remus come sprinting in and out of it). Roman finally lowers his sword, putting it beside him.

“I can teach you to use that,” the atrocious antagonist says finally, gesturing to the sword.

“What?” Roman asks, immediately on the defense. “I can use it fine, Padre’s poisonous partner!”

“I’m sure you can,” Mr. Logan says, adjusting his glasses, “and a very good insult, by the way, but I took fencing for many years. I can at least give you a few tips, hm?”

“...Fine,” Roman agrees, intrigued despite his best efforts.

Besides, how bad can loathsome Mr. Logan be if he likes Starbursts, anyways?

—

Janus knows he has lost Roman when he comes bounding into the room when Dad says “Dinner!” exclaiming “Dad, can I take fencing?”

“Logan Abbott,” Dad says, far too affectionate, “have you been teaching my son sword-fighting?”

“Maybe just a bit,” Logan says, not-so-subtly returning the broom to its place near the back door. “Is that… Is that alright?”

“Of course it’s alright,” Dad replies, handing him a plate of grilled cheese, complete with tomato soup. “It’s very sweet of you. This is all he’ll be talking about for months, though, I hope you know that.”

“It’s so cool, Dad!” Roman exclaims, proving his point. Remus is already sitting besides Patton, tearing into his grilled cheese, and Janus feels something cold settle into his stomach.

“Brothers conference, now,” he declares, standing up and marching towards the living room. He’s gratified to see that the twins still follow him, at least, even if they have been swayed to the side of Logan Abbott.

“I like him, Jan!” Roman says immediately, eyes wide and pleading. “He’s nice! And Dad likes him, and Remus does too!”

“And Patton’s great too,” Remus adds, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t wanna be mean to them!”

“What about Dad?” Janus exclaims, desperate. “Remember the last time we liked one of Dad’s dates?”

He’s referring to She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named, who had looked so nice in photos, who Dad had spoken of like an angel, but who had met them with a fixed smile and broken up with Dad only a few weeks later. Remus’ face falls, but Roman’s expression only hardens.

“Logan’s not like that,” he insists. “We won’t help you anymore, Jan.”

His brothers leave him alone in the living room, and Janus scowls at the ground. Fine. If they won’t help him, he’ll do it himself. He doesn’t need them anyways!

He ignores the choking feeling in his chest and the burning at the corners of his eyes as he returns to the table.

Fine.

—

Patton likes Virgil and his family.

Remus is funny, and Roman knows all about all the princesses, and Janus, for all his grumpy-wumpies, has the best costume. And Virgil is so nice, and makes the best jokes, too!

Patton is all of four years old, and he, quite honestly, finds himself liking everything and everyone. But he especially likes his Papa’s boyfriend’s family.

They’re nice. And they make his papa happy, too, and he doesn’t feel scared around them at all. He’s pretty sure Janus could beat up any monsters in his octopus — no, kraken — costume anyways.

Janus looks sad when he comes back to the table, face all red and angry, and Patton reaches across to pat him on one of his tentacles. “You’re a very good kwaken,” he says.

Janus just stares at him. “...Sure, whatever,” he answers, turning away and taking a huge bite out of his grilled cheese. Patton is impressed, frankly.

Papa has told him that Virgil being his boyfriend means that he and Virgil are like Nate-from-daycare’s parents, romantic partners. Patton asked if that means if he and Virgil are gonna get married someday, like Nate’s, and his dad’s face turned all red. “Maybe,” he said.

Patton hopes so. He’d like to have Virgil as his other dad, he thinks. Virgil is nice. And Patton has begged for siblings so many times that getting Janus and Remus and Roman in the bargain is like what his dad says about cool things — bee’s knees. They’re like the bee’s knees!

So, Patton is hopeful.

He pats Janus’ tentacles once more. Hopefully, his maybe-future-big-brother will feel better soon.

—

“I just want to stay up for an extra hour, Dad,” Janus says, nearly pleading. “It’s Halloween! Just until Mr. Logan goes home.”

His dad looks desperately between him and Logan, who is sitting in the living room with Patton in his lap, snoozing against his chest. The twins had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and Dad is holding Roman in his arms, Remus already tucked in upstairs.

“It’s alright, Virgil,” Logan says. “It is Halloween, and I’m trapped here anyways.” He gestures to Patton on his lap, and Dad laughs at that. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you so much, L,” Janus’ dad says, obviously relieved. “I’ll be right down, okay?”

“Okay,” Logan nods, returning Dad’s smile with one of his own.

“You should just go now,” Janus says once his dad is upstairs. “You ruined Halloween. And Dad hates you, and we hate you, so you should just go home!”

“I am aware that you don’t like me, Janus,” Logan tells him softly, far too nice. He’s the kind of wonderful guy that would have Dad making omelets for days afterwards, unbearably sad. “And… I must confess, I do not understand why. Do I truly make you that uncomfortable?”

“I don’t care about you,” he snaps, sinking back into the couch cushions, refusing to look at Logan, eyes on the credits rolling across the TV screen instead. “But I won’t let you hurt my dad.”

“Hurt your father?” Logan repeats, eyes wide. “Why on Earth would I do that?”

It is late, and Janus is tired, and he still feels like crying. And so he finds himself spilling it all, from the omelets to She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named to his dad’s calls with Uncle Remy. He’s crying, he finds, partway through, and Logan doesn’t reach out to hug him or anything like that, but he listens. He nods, and he asks questions at all the right times, and passes Janus the tissues from the coffee table whenever he needs them.

“Janus,” Logan Abbott says when he is done, and he looks like he wants to cry, too, “may I promise you something, now?”

Janus nods, too tired to do anything else, and he gets the feeling that if he had shaken his head, Logan would have respected that, would have remained silent.

“I swear,” Logan says, fiercely passionate, “I have no intention of hurting your father, or your brothers, or you, in any shape or form. If I should do so, I would be a person who does not deserve you, your father, or your brothers in any shape or form anyways, as family or friends or even acquaintances.” He takes a deep breath, and Janus realizes his eyes are glittering with tears when he lifts his hand to wipe them away. “I did not mean to intrude on your family, and if you fear for your father around me, or dislike me that much, it is not my place to remain here. You will always be Virgil’s priority, as you should be, and I would never keep myself in his life if I made his son that unhappy.”

“Okay,” Janus says, voice small.

There is silence, after that, and much sniffling, and Janus thinks.

He thinks about his brothers, who have taken to the Abbotts so quickly. He thinks about Patton who, in the end, isn’t such a bad kid. He thinks about his dad, who seems so happy around Logan, who had asked them to keep an open mind that afternoon, who would be so sad if he had to break up with Logan, even for Janus’ sake, though he’d never say it.

He thinks about Logan, who seems so sincere, and who isn’t really anything like She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named, or any of the others who had made his dad cry, who Janus thinks he could like one day, who could maybe be his dad too.

“I guess you can stay,” Janus says, watching the TV carefully, and in the reflection, he can just barely see Logan relax. “For now.”

“Thank you, Janus,” he says.

“If you hurt my dad, though, I’ll kill you myself,” Janus tells him, and means it.

“I’d deserve it,” Logan answers simply, and for that, more than anything else, Janus starts to like Logan. He doesn’t laugh at the threat, or threaten him back, or even ignore it.

He takes it seriously. He considers it. And he finds it justified.

Yes, Janus thinks. With enough time, and maybe a little candy-related bribery (it is Halloween, after all) he could like Logan Abbott.

—

“I had a lovely time tonight,” Logan says. Patton is in the car, strapped into his carseat with the driver’s door open just in case, still sleeping away, and Virgil has long since put Janus to bed, too.

It is late. The moon is full overhead, a watchful eye on a quiet world, and it shines down on Logan and Virgil, who linger still in the doorway.

“I’m glad,” Virgil smiles, though the expression falters quickly. He reaches up to Logan’s cheek, finger brushing at a stray tear track. “Have you been crying?”

“Janus and I had a bit of a heart-to-heart,” he explains, intertwining his own fingers with those of Virgil’s free hand.

“The boys seemed to like you,” Virgil says, and though he looks no less concerned, he smiles anyways.

“I liked them too,” Logan laughs, a shy, soft thing. “And Patton adores you, of course. I knew he would.”

“I’d say I’m amazed they warmed up to you so quickly, but I’m not,” his boyfriend tells him, and grins, truly grins, mischievous and light and so full of love that it makes Logan feel dizzy. “You’re so wonderful, I’m surprised it took even that long.”

“Flirt,” Logan accuses, but he steps closer anyways. The night is chilly, but he hardly notices next to Virgil Carroll, who seems to exist to provide warmth and light to the universe. “They were very protective of you.”

“Perhaps they have reason to be,” Virgil says thoughtfully, smile widening. “What with you around, standing on my doorstep in the dead of night, not kissing your boyfriend goodbye. That ought to be a crime, I think. Look at me, associating with criminals. You’ve turned me bad already!”

Logan rolls his eyes but leans down to kiss Virgil anyways, a chaste, sweet thing that still manages to take his breath away. “You are incorrigible.”

“You love me and you know it,” Virgil tells him.

“I do,” Logan agrees. “Very much.”

They hug goodbye, and steal one or three or eight more goodbye kisses, and before he knows it Logan is driving away, off into the quiet of the moonlight.

There is something magical about Halloween, he has always thought. A magic of change, and of tricks, and of trust, too.

Virgil’s sons like me. A change.

They attempted to drive me away, but Virgil had warned me ahead of time that might be the case, so I did, admittedly, have the upper hand. A trick.

Janus, as of now, will let me stay. A trust, the trust of a boy who will do anything to protect his father.

Above all else, Logan decides, he will not betray that.

—

There are other Halloweens, of course, and there are other holidays, too. There are presents, and laughter, and the occasional argument, but one that is always resolved by the next day, and Janus receives that candy bribe, as well.

There are still omelet nights. There might always be. But now, instead of calling Uncle Remy, Virgil starts to call Logan, on these nights, seeking comfort when work goes badly or one of his sons is hurt or in the midst of just a truly bad day. And eventually, there will be no need for calls at all, for Logan is there to make toast and offer cuddles and tuck the boys in bed on those rough days, and, after he is supposed to be asleep, Janus will see his dad and a man who is almost, maybe, very close to being his father too, curled up together, offering support and comfort and love.

Logan has his bad days, too. And so do Janus, and Roman, and Remus, and Patton. But none of them have to face them alone.

One day, many Halloweens later, Janus will call Logan ‘Papa’ for the first time, sleepily, halfway through Hocus Pocus, and they will both cry, just a little bit.

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zaptrapp · 3 years

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Vin’s Bad Batch Rant -ep 1

Welcome to this part of Tumblr where, after I watch each BB episode, I’ll give you my detailed (yeah lmao as if) analysis and emotional ramble. SPOILERS AHEAD!! Let’s gooo (this is gonna be a long one, 70 minutes of ep!!):

First of all HOW DARE THEY. Filoniiiiii.

I was NOT expecting to start with a mission right before Order 66 are you fucking kidding me? I immediately went “Nope, not doing this.”

Look at the initial flashback of the clone wars. I was shaking, too many memories.

I haven’t watched Rebels but I know some things and I know who Caleb is. So HI Padawan Caleb, good to see you. But... wasn’t Kanan’s skin complex a bit darker?

It’s going nicely, some comedy thrown in, The Bad Batch being wholesome and just destroying clankas! Tech is growing on me.

Master Billaba why are you so disappointed omg ahah thank them immediately!?!?

Yo I fucking swear, I swear to god that when tbb was leaving and the Captain turned to receive Order 66 I jumped from the seat so fast. Like I yeeted myself so fucking far you cannot understand. Literally, fuck fuck fuck this. My anxiety and ptsd from the clone wars went 📈📈📈📈📈📈

Rip Jedi Master Billaba.

Run Caleb, just run.

(I’m so fucking glad to see The Bad Batch is immune to Order 66. Like so glad.)

Ok Crosshair and Hunter go rescue Mr Padawan there.

CROSSHAIR WHAT THE FUCK CHIILLLLL

nope nope nope this is not going well. I was wrong, I fucked up, I spoke too soon.

“Good soldiers follow orders” noooooooo

Hunter being wholesome omg, what a dad energy he has. I already love him.

Omg Hunter’s scream when Kanan jumps.

Crosshair literally chill dude, let’s all vibe together.

Also uhm... it hurts to see them all so pale. Please for the love of god fix that, it’s unsettling.

The way they return to Kamino so oblivious of what’s going on. It hurts

“Coruscant guard is here” YES SHOW ME FOX YOU COWARDS

Uhm.... Filoni can we talk for a second? Yeah I would like to ask you WHY? Y’know, was it really necessary to show the corpse of a dead Jedi and the hand with the lightsaber falling off? This scene is gonna be stuck in my mind forever. I’m crying.

Can we also talk about the music? Haunting, a masterpiece throughout the whole episode.

This is not a kid’s show.

Love that they have their own personal barrack filled with their stuff, so precious. Plus the Tooka doll, omg😩

The amount of times I’ve said “Crosshair chill” by now is over 9000. Spoiler: it gets worse.

Absolutely love the tension between Hunter and Crosshair. Live for these moments.

Tech listing the characteristics of his mates and then “my exceptional mind” LMAO brag about it.

“The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed”. “You can say that again” Wrecker OMG I wheezed. Echo’s like “bruh”. That’s what I need. Right here. God I love this.

“Still don’t think the regs are programmed?” This part made me shiver. It literally terrifies me. Also Tech is growing so much on me...

Hello Omega, nice to meet you.

“adolescent human female” Tech what the fuck it’s just a girl.😂 I love her accent and her smile! And she’s a medical assistant, love that too!!!!!!

Omega really said 😃😃👋🏼👋🏼

Here comes Tarkin ugh

Why does it hurt to see regular clones without helmet? Probably cause they all look like Fives, Kix, and the others. My heart is crying

Also, why is no one bald anymore? Guess that’s old fashioned uh... (yeah I know it’s because they want them to have no characterization whatsoever, but what’s wrong in being bald?) I miss my bald-with-crazy-tattooes- regs❤️

“Hello again” 😁😁👋🏼👋🏼 the way they look at her LMAO 😶😐😑🤔😕

Food fight, yay! (Crosshair was just trying to chill but ooop guess it’s time to fight)

EXCUSE ME?!?!?

No seriously. They really threw AZ in curing Echo’s injury??? You don’t know how much I was crying. I thought they were gonna throw a “Fives” in and I wasn’t ready at all, not now. Glad they didn’t but still... fuck me Filoni

Look at Echo’s reaction. Fuck. He’s scared as hell, probably though he was back on Skako Minor being a lab rat.

Yeah what a shocking revelation for them AZ.

Headcanon: Tarkin hates his life. He’s so bitter.

The fact that they’re being tested against real threats and guns while they have stupid toy guns it’s so fucking wrong and ridiculous.

“Five are all that remain” but Echo’s not genetically enhanced. That means... (i was putting 2 and 2 together)

Here we go with a mission... this stinks from miles away just telling you

Omega and Hunter talks, ughh the feelings

The way Omega calls softly Hunter’s name ugh I’m sold. They already have a bond “something about her I can’t figure out.” 😩😩

“I guess kids aren’t your area of expertise” Crosshair what a subtle shade😂

Crosshair was not really going to shoot at kids and elder people. Right?

Oh hello Saw, good to see ya. Always a pleasure.

GENERAL SKYWALKER AND CAPTAIN REX mention here we goooo🤪🤪🤪

This is chilling and unsettling....

Great a snitch droid or whatever the fuck that is.

*dramatic stare between Crosshair and Hunter* plus toothpick action going on

Crosshair literally stfu

And here’s Tech dropping facts. Omega’s an enhanced clone. I wonder how they made it possible for her to be a female taking Jango’s DNA but whatever, this is Star Wars.

I am legitimately pissed that Crosshair threw away the toothpick. Justice for toothpick.

Omg she found a picture of the squad😭😭😭😭😭 flashback to Rex’s picture with Echo, Fives and Cody I’m crying

Look at them walking right into the trap.

Hunter looks totally offended but c’mon, you know what you were going against.

Yo, I’m really here trying not to SIMP and they fucking throw TBB in their blacks on my face. I don’t have to look at them, I don’t have to— HELLO HUNTER, how’s you booty doing?

Crosshair CHILL amigo ok io quando mi incazzo devo passare all’italiano quindi o ti calmi o ti calmi, capito brooo??!! Le bestemmie che mi fai tirare.

Ok he’s struggling, I see that. No need to be an ass tho 😶

“I know it’s not your fault. You can’t help it.” Yes I’m crying why aren’t you. The way he looks at her... I’m dead.

CT-9904. Okay... also why did they have to kick Hunter. He’s so precious, trying to defend him regardless of him being under the effect of the chip.

Oh shit oh fuck oh shit here we go. (I didn’t want to watch this part.)

Ehm, Hunter why did you have to lay down like that, you sexy beast. I’m waiting for a gifset of him like that. I’m waiting.

Not Omega copying his moves😂😂😂😂😂

“Abnormal individual” lmao the look on Tech and Hunter’s faces. So done.

Ugh the anxiety is spiraling in me. Also how did they suit up so fast lmao.

Oh no. Oh no. NO NO NO

oh shit.

He looks good tho ngl🥴 (toothpick’s back.)

Oh the look on Hunter’s face, the music... breaks my heart.

Oh I was kinda ready for this part but still..... 😭😩

Yo can you not throw the toothpick away in every damn scene please? That’s my emotional support character object.

Yo jumpscare I lost 10 years of my life what the fuck

The amount of times Wrecker got hurt just in this episode is concerning.

Your move. AHHHHHH

Yoooo Omega with that blaster rifle saved the day😃✨

BYE Crosshair see ya later 💔

Kaminoans hiding to the Empire that BB escaped? This is gonna be no good I’m telling you

Omega is precious. Must be protected.

Dad Hunter DAD HUNTER DAD HUNTER IM SOBBING

Short list of friends. One is on coordinates J-19. Saleucami sector system. CUT LAWQUANE confirmed. Fuck yes. I’m happy. Now I can rest.

Sike I will never rest. Strap in and let’s gooo

Well well well. I LOVED IT. FILONI THANKS FOR THE UNWANTED FEELINGS that made me remind I’m a human capable of emotions❤️ I owe you one but I’m also hurt and also in love. Yes, there are things that did not sit really nicely with me: the obvious whitewashing, Omega being a clone of Jango (yes I was kinda expecting it but as I think through about it... makes less sense. Literally how?), but overall I enjoyed it.

Also if you wanna chat about TBB and feelings dm me or send in an ask! See ya bad bitches💕💕

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sarah-sandwich · 3 years

Note

"I need a hug" please and thank you!

Hi friend! Here it is! Remind me to never commit to a fic a day for an entire week again lmao

Happy last day of National Storyteller Week to everyone who creates or consumes stories! Jump over to my ao3 for 5 ridiculous parkner fics 👌✨💛

Peter, no

He probably should have clued in sooner, a lot sooner.

Him and Peter have been attached at the hip for three years, ever since Peter ran into the lab in the middle of a video call with Tony, shouted something about an arm-wrestling tournament with the Avengers, and begged, “You gotta come trash talk them for me! Please, Mr. Stark! No one roasts as good as you!” Then, after receiving Tony’s resigned agreement, exclaimed, “I’m gonna dislocate Captain America’s shoulder!” turned tail and sprinted back out, ignoring Tony’s, “Peter, no!”

It was over in under a minute but he was bewitched.

“Who was that? And why haven’t I met him?”

“I’ve been avoiding this day,” Tony said in a world-weary tone. “You’re either going to hate each other or get on like a house fire. Either way, I’ll never know peace again.”

In usual Tony Stark fashion, he was right.

He thought he’d seen every side of Peter there is. He’s seen him soft and sleepy under the blue glow of the television. He’s seen him wired and manic as he pursues a project on little to no sleep. He’s seen him broken and bleeding in more ways than he cares to count. He’s seen him laughing until he cries, crying so hard the only thing he can do is cry with him, too exhausted to feed himself, too angry to speak, and he’s been there when he’s on the cusp of dropping dead from embarrassment (usually pointing and laughing but hey, somebody’s gotta keep him humble).

He knows him like he knows his sister, like he knows his mom, like he knows himself.

His point is, it shouldn’t have taken this camping trip to put the pieces together. Realization shouldn’t have hit him like a log to the face when Peter rolled up the sleeves of his borrowed flannel and suddenly he couldn’t breathe for wanting to kiss him stupid.

Well, stupider.

A moment later, Peter picked up the bag of tent poles like they weighed nothing and somehow managed to dump them all over the side of the road like a can of pick-up-sticks.

It’s gonna be a long weekend.

~*~

“What’s this thing for again?” Peter asks, raising his arms high over his head to hold up the long swath of fabric two times his height.

“It’s a rain fly, Peter. It keeps out the rain.”

“It’s not supposed to rain. Trust me, Aunt May checked the weather like 50 times before she would let me leave.”

“We still need it.”

“But why? We could sleep under the stars.”

“It traps in heat.”

“Sounds like another tally in the cons column. It’s hot as fuck, dude.”

“Not tonight it won’t be. Temperature fluctuates a lot in the mountains, especially when the sun goes down.”

“Temperature fluctuates in the mountains,” Peter repeats mockingly.

Harley stops what he’s doing. “If you really wanna sleep under the stars I don’t have to share my tent. Enjoy the skeeters.”

“You love me too much to leave me to sleep with the wildlife,” Peter says, voice muffled from under the rain fly as he attempts to drape it over the erected tent.

His heart skips. Does he know? Has he been that obvious even while oblivious to his own feelings? Did Peter figure it out before he did? Has he been graciously not saying anything about his huge undeniable crush while—

Peter squawks and tumbles forward, the tent collapsing under him with a snap that echoes through the trees. The rain fly flutters over him like a burial shroud.

“Please tell me whatever just broke was a part of you.”

“Uhh, sorry.”

He sighs. He’s in love with an idiot.

~*~

The tent leans a little to the left when they’re done with it but he’s pretty sure it’ll hold up through the night. Just in case, they limit how often they go in and out of it (which, in his opinion, is the way it should be done regardless).

A breeze rustles the trees, scattering pine needles as birds chitter and small unseen wildlife scurries around the underbrush. He breathes in deep, savoring the scent of dirt, pine, and fresh air. He’s been in the city far too long.

Peter stands with his hands on his hips, dirt crusted on the knees of his jeans, his borrowed flannel pulling tight across his chest as he watches a puffy white cloud scoot by with a befuddled expression.

He turns to Harley. “So umm, now what?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. You’re the one who’s never done this before?”

Peter stares at him blankly.

“Right. Forgot who I was talking to.” He shakes his head and walks over to the car with a sigh. “This way, city boy. It’s time you learned to fish.”

“Sounds smelly.”

“Mmm.” He pops the trunk and pulls out two fishing rods—one old and dinged up, the other brand-spankin-new—and he passes them to Peter so he can grab the tackle box and a white plastic bucket with a lid on it.

“And slimy,” Peter continues, wrinkling his nose at the bold ‘WORMS’ printed on the side of the white bucket.

“That it is, but there aren’t any rats and no one has pissed on the place you need to sit so it’s automatically better than anything the city has to offer.”

“We’ll see about that,” Peter grumbles.

~*~

“Y’know,” Harley drawls lazily, eyes half-lidded as he watches Peter jump from rock to rock along the shoreline, “usually when people are lookin’ to catch a fish they cast their line into the water rather than leavin’ it on the ground.”

“Oh is that how it’s done? I had no idea,” Peter says, stooping down to peer into a small pool sequestered away from the rest of the body of water. “What do tadpoles look like?”

“Uh, little squirmy guys.”

“Very descriptive, thank you.”

“Mhmm. Anytime, darlin’.”

Peter looks up at him, eyes narrowed and he jolts under the sudden scrutiny.

“What?” he asks. He always calls him darling. It’s just a thing he says—a southern thing. So what if over the years he’s stopped using the name for anyone else? It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not weird.

“Are you falling asleep?” Peter asks.

“Pfft, no,” he says. The sun is deliciously warm, seeping into his skin and turning his bones to butter as the katydids buzz and birds sing. A warm breeze ruffs his hair and he finds himself blinking slowly.

“Dude, you’re totally falling asleep.” Peter grins playfully and hopscotches across the rocks back to him as he teases, “You know, usually when someone wants to catch a fish, they do it while they’re awake.”

“I am awake, dummy.”

“Not for much longer.” He comes to a stop at his side and tweaks the brim of his hat. “Look at you. You’re like an old man falling asleep in his recliner in front of the big game.”

“Napping is a perfectly respectable part of fishing,” he argues.

Peter throws back his head and laughs. Backed by blue sky and thickly forested mountain, sunlit from above, he’s never looked better.

Should he tell him? Is now the time? He can’t imagine living like this—knowing how he feels but bottling it up and keeping it a secret from his best friend.

Then again—

His fishing rod dips and he sits up with a start, hands already moving for the reel.

“Woah, is that a fish?” Peter exclaims, peering into the lake.

“Sure hope so. Can’t imagine what else it’d—,”

“Can I pull it in?” Peter asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excitable puppy.

“No, you if wanna get a fish you have to put in the work.”

“What work? Laying around half-asleep?”

“Yeah, exactly. I’ll let you take it off the line, how ‘bout that?”

“Eh, that’s okay. I’m good.”

He wrestles the fish out of the lake, a bass about two hands long, and then holds the flopping fish, hooked through the lip, out to Peter.

“There you go. Just pop that puppy off the hook and toss ‘im back in.”

“Wait, you don’t even keep the fish?”

“What would I do with a fish?”

“…eat it?”

“That’s a whole song and dance I ain’t got the tools or the patience for. Just grab the fish, Pete. Preferably before it suffocates.”

Peter makes an unhappy sound in his throat but reaches for the fish. Just as his fingers brush the scales, the fish gives a mighty wiggle and Peter flinches back towards the lake.

“Eep!” Peter squeaks and goes into the water with a splash.

Harley hunches over, laughing his head off as Peter sits up, water streaming down his face and dripping from his hair.

“I hate you.” Slipping and sliding in the muck, he makes his way through the mid-thigh deep water, back to dry land, and then keeps walking past Harley and up the hill to the trail that will lead him back to camp.

All the while Harley laughs and laughs, taking a moment to free the fish back into the lake before he sits down and tips his face to the sun, chuckling and committing to memory the way Peter’s soaked jeans and flannel clung all over his body.

~*~

“I still don’t see why—,”

“Shush,” Peter snaps, frowning in concentration over the tiny flame he’s been babying to life for the past fifteen minutes.

He sighs. He tried to convince him to wait until supper for a campfire meal but Mr. Eager Beaver insisted on trying his hand at it now. Had they made sandwiches they’d be done by now and could be hiking. But no. Peter wants to play Boy Scout so they’re going to sit here and starve until he gets a fire built just to spend five minutes roasting hot dogs and then have to put it out again.

To make matters worse, Peter’s no longer wearing his shirt since it got soaked in the lake. He’d gotten attached to how he looks in his clothes. Now he’s wearing on one of his standard nerd-pun tees and a wrinkly pair of khaki cargo shorts and he’s going to have to convince him to at least put on long socks before they hike or he’s going to risk getting poison ivy or poison oak all over his calves and ankles.

“There it goes! There it goes!” Peter exclaims, sitting up tall and motioning at him to look at the little flame as it eats up the pile of twigs and tinder.

“Very good, dear,” he says dryly. “Now see if you can keep it going with some real wood.”

Peter cocks his head at him. “Was that a double-entendre?”

“Why on earth would I imply that we should put a part of my human anatomy in the fire, Peter?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, squatting beside the fire as he breaks up a stick. “Dick jokes are funny.”

“You’re a child.”

“And yet you— Shit!” He flinches back from the fire and falls on his backside.

He comes alert with a spike of adrenaline, rushing forward to— to— pat out flames with his bare hands? He doesn’t know. “What happened?” he demands, checking Peter over for damage and finding nothing, not a burn or singe in sight.

Still sprawled on the ground, Peter looks up at him through his eyelashes with an embarrassed grimace. “I don’t want to say.”

“But you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” he sits up cross-legged and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He stares down at him as he looks down in his lap. “You’re really not going to tell me what just happened? I already saw you fall in a lake because you were scared of a fish. It can’t be worse than that.”

Peter looks up, neck crimped and mouth screwed into an unhappy pucker. “I thought something was on me but it was just the grass.”

Harley stares. “So, you thought a bug was on you.”

“Yeah. I’m starting to think I’m not cut out for this place.”

What has he gotten himself into?

~*~

Peter hasn’t stopped chattering about everything under the sun since they left camp. And considering where they are, there’s a lot to chatter about. From bugs to birds to types of trees and identifying clouds, he’s heard it all. It’s why he’s not paying attention to the path like he should, too busy watching the way Peter waves his hands animatedly as he rambles, the way the sun lights his eyes and makes his hair shine, the way his lips shape the words.

He hasn’t taken in a word he’s said for the past twenty minutes but he’s watched him with rapt attention while his mind churns through his options. He’s not one to ignore something once he knows about it. He doesn’t want to keep this a secret. There’s no reason to. It’s nothing shameful and if Peter doesn’t reciprocate then… well, nothing changes, right? He’s fine with that. Best friends is still good. Great, even.

But if Peter does reciprocate…

His breathing quickens at the thought. How did he not notice this ridiculous crush sooner? It’s like something has been awakened inside him and now it refuses to shut up and go back to sleep. He gravitates towards Peter like an orbiting moon. He’s a moth to Peter’s beam of light. Helpless under the thrall.

Peter suddenly looks right at him. “—you know what I mean?”

“Huh?” His foot lands wrong and rolls over a root. His ankle screams out and then he’s dropping as it gives out.

“Woah!” Peter catches him, one arm around his back and the other fisted into his shirt at his shoulder. His brain goes offline, only processing the way Peter is pressed against him, the way his face is angled over him like he’s on the verge of dipping him into a kiss, the way neither of them moves or speaks, staring instead with startled realization.

He thinks he imagines it when Peter’s eyes dilate but then they fix on his lips and there’s no way he’s imagining that.

Lights flash in his head and he forgets to breathe as they hang suspended in time.

Then Peter bites his lip and his cheeks flush dark pink as he yanks Harley upright.

He stumbles, unprepared, and his ankle gives out a second time.

Peter catches him by the elbows babbling, “Oh my God, I’m sorry! Are you okay? I didn’t mean to—,”

“I’m fine. I…” The rest of the sentence vanishes from his tongue as he looks into Peter’s eyes. He loves his eyes—warm and affectionate, they always give him away. Whether they’re bright with curiosity, sparkling with delight, wide with embarrassment, or narrowed in anger, he’s an open book. That’s why the look in his eyes now gives him pause. He’s never seen it before—or maybe it’s been there all along but he hasn’t noticed until now.

They’re dark and focused like he’s seeing through him into his soul and likes what he sees so much he wants to eat him alive.

His heart thunders as he lifts a hand to Peter’s cheek. This is it. This is the moment he tells him and finds out where they’re going to go next.

Peter’s eyes go wide and he swallows thickly, but then his gaze shifts beyond him and he freezes except to carefully grab his forearm in a too-tight grip.

“Bear,” Peter breathes.

His awareness of their surrounding returns so suddenly it hurts. Birds sing, bugs buzz and chirp, somewhere nearby a creek burbles, and behind him on the path, something scuffs the ground and then snorts and sniffs harshly.

“No,” he says quietly. No, he refuses to allow this to be his reality. This cannot be happening. He won’t allow this to happen.

“Harley, bear,” Peter repeats, grip tightening.

Oh my God, this is happening.

“Don’t run,” he says in an undertone. “You’re not supposed to run.”

“We gotta run.”

“Peter, no.”

“Harley, there’s a fucking bear.”

“Listen to me—,”

“I’m gonna grab you—,”

“—we gotta stay still and—,”

“I’ll carry you and—,”

“—non-threatening so—,”

“I’m going to get you up a tree and then—,”

“—it won’t chase us.”

“—the bear will chase me.”

“Peter—,”

“It’ll be fine.”

“—no.”

~*~

He waits in the tree for over an hour, ankle throbbing, sick to his stomach with worry, wondering if he’ll ever see the idiot he stupidly fell in love with ever again. Even if he didn’t get eaten by the bear, he’s no good out here in the woods. He could be lost. He could be too hurt to move. He could be—

—covered in what smells like animal shit and standing balefully at the base of the tree.

“I need a hug,” Peter says, voice small.

“Did you—,”

“I did what needed to be done.”

“So that’s—,”

“Don’t say it. Do you need help getting down?”

“I’ll figure it out. Don’t touch me.”

“That’s fair. I’ll be in the lake. Will you bring me all of the soap and soap-like products we own?”

“Yeah. Gimme a minute.”

“Thanks, Harley.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

I love you. I’m glad you’re not dead. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come back. My life wouldn’t be the same without you in it. You’re everything I want.

“You’re an idiot,” he says.

Peter nods. “Yeah.”

~*~

“Black bears can run 35 miles per hour,” he says conversationally. They’re sprawled on a blanket while the fire crackles nearby (but not too close, they’ve had enough disasters for one day). His foot is propped on the tackle box, elevating his ankle and Peter is beside him, flat on his back staring up at the stars through the trees, close enough that their arms brush.

“Trust me, I know.”

“They can also climb trees,” he continues reading from his phone. “You should never climb a tree to avoid a bear.”

“Harley—,”

“If a bear notices you, stay calm. Most bears don’t want to attack you.”

“Dude, I get it.”

“Move away slowly and sideways. Do not run. Do not climb a tree.”

Peter snatches the phone out of his hands and sits up. “I panicked, okay? I can’t lose you! I had to get you out of there.”

He goes still, the crackling of the fire and the crickets the only sound in the night.

“Say again?”

“Don’t,” Peter says harshly, still holding his phone far out of reach. “Don’t make fun of me about this one. You don’t get it, okay?”

This isn’t how he expected this to happen. Hyper aware of his heart beating in his chest, he asks, “What don’t I get?”

“I was terrified.”

“And you think I wasn’t?”

“Not in the way I was. I was— It was like— It was like if anything happened to you, nothing would be okay ever again. I don’t—,” He pulls in a deep breath, chest heaving as his eyes shine uncommonly bright in the firelight. “I don’t know. You’re— Ever since we met things have just felt right and good in a way they hadn’t before and I’ve already lost so many people and then you were in danger and I couldn’t do nothing. I couldn’t.”

“Okay,” he says gently, sitting upright and scooting over on the blanket. “Okay.” He takes the phone and sets it aside then takes Peter’s hand in both of his. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m okay.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Peter says miserably, sniffing and wiping his eyes with the back of his free hand. “I think I have been for a long time.”

“Well, that’s lucky because I think I’m in love with you too.”

“You— What?”

“Mhmm. Since at least this morning.”

Peter stares at him. His lips twitch. “This morning? For real? Are you teasing me?”

“A hundred percent serious. It hit me right before you dumped my tent poles all over 36th street. Unrelated, you should wear my clothes more often.” He pauses and then says, “I think today was the universe asking me if I was sure I wanted to be tied down to your dumb ass for the rest of forever.”

“And?” Peter asks, eyes wide in the firelight.

“Yeah,” he says, smoothing a curl away from his forehead. “I’m sure.”

Peter leans in and kisses him, soft and quick. “Is that okay?”

Heart in his mouth, he says, “I think you can do better.”

Peter laughs and smooths his thumb over his cheekbone. “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’.”

#writing prompt #peter city boy parker goes camping with harley country boy keener #shenanigans ensue #mutual pining #heh heh geddit?#they're camping in the forest with the pines #but also the regular kind of pining #friends to lovers #parkner #parley #peter parker/harley keener #peter parker #harley keener #playboyphilanthro-pissed

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years

Text

Out Of Time ~ 4

MAIN MASTERLIST

Out Of Time MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,325ish

Summary: Steve comes back bigger and with permission to take Y/N with him.

Warnings: none

Steve was gone before Y/N woke up in the morning. She understood that he probably thought that was best for both of them, but she couldn’t help but be a little angry at him. She went to work that day, and the weeks following, with a plastered smile on her face. She struggled to do what she had promised Steve she would do. All she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and cry until she couldn’t feel anything anymore. It was her day off, and she was planning on doing just that, when a knock sounded at her door.

“Coming!” She shouted as she slowly got off her bed. The knock impatiently sounded again. “I said I’m coming!” The knock sounded for a third time just as Y/N had reached the door. She pulled it open. “I said I was coming! Couldn’t you just—“

She stopped speaking at the sight before her. A large, blonde man in military uniform stood at her doorstep. Y/N studied him. He was all too familiar, yet not at the same time. When she meet his eyes, that’s when she realized who was standing at her doorstep.

“Stevie?” She gasped.

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled.

“What— How— You— You’re taller. An-and you—“

“I got chosen, Y/N/N. They actually chose me. And it worked.”

Y/N was speechless. She turned around and began pacing around the living room, leaving the door wide open for Steve to come in. He came in and carefully shut the door. Y/N silently paced as tears formed. She wanted him to come back, she had literally prayed that they wouldn’t choose him. And look what had happened? God laughed at her and made sure he became the chosen one.

“Are you going to say anything, Y/N/N?” Steve timidly asked after a few minutes of pain staking silence.

“What do you want me to say, Steve?!” Y/N stopped pacing, turned to her brother, and yelled. “Congratulations? Well, congratulations! You successfully became a science experiment and got to join the army! You get to go to Europe and be shot at! Hurray!”

“Y/N—“

“Don’t, Steve. Don’t try to make excuses.”

“I wasn’t going to make excuses. I was going to tell you that I’m actually not going to be heading into battle anytime soon.”

“What?”

“They— um… they think that I should go around the country selling bonds.”

“Selling bonds? Why?”

“You didn’t see the paper?”

Y/N shook her head. “Haven’t wanted to… I’ve been afraid of what it might say.”

“I went after a Nazi. Saved a child. The story went Nation wide. They think that because of it, I’ll be able to sell bonds.”

“So… you’re not going to be shot at?”

“I still want to go and fight, and if this is how I get there, I’m okay with it.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know. But I got permission to take you with me. If you’re willing.”

Y/N sighed, running her hand over her face as she looked at the ground. “What I am suppose to do?”

“We’ll find you something.” Steve took a step forward. “You won’t be useless. I just…” He set his now large hands on her arms, running them up and down in comfort. “I just need you there with me. I need my sister’s support and I need to be able to take care of you.”

“Is this because you’re bigger than me now? Now that five minute difference is going to matter?” Y/N chuckled. “Yes. I’ll go with you.”

Steve pulled her into his arms. It was definitely going to take some time for Y/N to get used to how large Steve had become. She wrapped her arms around his large frame.

“I guess I finally have a big brother,” she teased.

“Hey! It’s not funny,” he laughed.

A week later, Steve and Y/N were in a large theater. It was filled with people. Steve was dressed in a red, white, and blue costume. Y/N was watching him as he stood at the center of the stage, just behind the curtain, trying to prepare himself to go out and face the crowd. She could tell he was nervous. Senator Brandt’s aide was there to make sure that Steve didn’t bail.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Steve second guessed, letting out a deep breath.

“Nothing to it,” Brandt’s aide said. “Sell off a few bonds, bonds buy bullets, bullets kill Nazi’s. Bing bang boom. You’re an American hero.”

“It’ just not how I pictured getting there.”

“The senator’s got a lot of pull up on the hill. You play ball with us, you’ll be leading your own platoon in no time. Take the shield.” Steve put on his mask and grabbed his shield.

“You got this, Steve,” Y/N walked up, smiling encouragingly at him. “Go get ‘em.”

Steve gave a nervous smile before taking another deep breath. Senator Brandt’s aide was clearly done with how long it was taking him, and pushed Steve onto the stage. The singers began singing and dancing as soon as he was out there.

Y/N moved to the side of the stage to see better. Steve was nervous, clearly, and hadn’t memorized his lines. But he stayed up there, through it all. Afterwards, he signed autographs, with you right behind him. Life went on this way for weeks. Traveling to different cities around the country. Steve was embracing the name of Captain America and finally memorized his lines. The ladies were obsessed with him. Men wanted to be him. Children idolized him. You watched from a far, opting to just be Steve’s moral support, which was definitely needed.

By the time November rolled around, Steve, Y/N, and the rest of the Captain America crew started touring Europe. They were touring the Allied military camps there. Y/N was confused how a man playing dress up would help cheer up the soldiers, but Senator Brandt insisted that Steve was needed there. And if Steve was told that he was needed, he was going to be there. Y/N was currently standing backstage, watching Steve get made fun of by the soldiers.

She cringed as they yelled at him to bring the girls back out. Brandt’s Aide quickly ordered the girls back out and Steve came backstage.

“Don’t worry, pal,” Brandt’s Aide put a hand on Steve’s back. “They’ll warm up to you. Don’t worry.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as Brandt’s Aide walked away and she made her way towards her brother. “I knew we shouldn’t have come,” she stated. “Why would soldiers need a man dressed in tights to come and speak to them?” Steve glared at her. “Sorry, it’s just the truth.”

“I know…” Steve sighed as he took off his helmet. “I just believed that coming here would do some good…”

“No. You believed that by coming here, you would see some action. And don’t try to lie to me, Steve. We’re twins. I know you better than anyone else, sometimes even yourself. You just agreed to this tour to try to have an opportunity to fight.”

“Can we drop this right now?” Steve questioned as he pulled on his trench coat and grabbed his sketch book. “All I want is some quiet.”

He turned around and headed to the back stairs. Y/N sighed as she watched him sit down and begin sketching. Rain started pouring, almost in perfect timing. Y/N eventually moved a chair to sit behind Steve and began reading a book.

“Hello, Steve,” a British female voice broke the twins out of their thoughts. The woman came up from behind them, taking off her rain coat.

“Hi,” Steve looked up at the woman and greeted.

“You must be Y/N, Steve’s sister,” the woman smiled. “I’m Peggy.”

“Hi,” Y/N greeted. Steve had mentioned Peggy a few times in the past few months, aways blushing and stuttering. She could now understand why.

“What are you doin’ here?” Steve asked the woman.

“Officially, I’m not here at all.” Peggy just above Steve. “That was quite a performance.”

“Yeah. Uh… I had to improvise a little bit. Crowds I’m used to are usually more uh… twelve.”

“I understand you’re ‘America’s New Hope’?”

“Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit.”

“Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

“At least he’s got me doin’ this. Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.”

“And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know?”

“Oh, he knows,” Y/N muttered. “He just wishes he was out there fighting instead of dancing.” Steve hesitates. Obviously waiting to say something, either to Peggy or something about his sister’s comments, but stops.

“What? Peggy pressed.

“You know for the longest time I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines,” Steve said almost wishfully. “Serving my country. I finally get everything I wanted, and I’m wearing tights.”

They’re interrupted by an ambulance honking. The trio turned around to watch the wounded soldiers be taken out of the ambulance. Tears form in Y/N’s eyes as the possibility of Bucky ending up that way. At the possibility of him returning to her in a coffin.

“They look like they’ve been through hell,” Steve stated as they still watched.

“These men more than most,” Peggy said.

“What happened?” Y/N asked, unable to look away from the wounded men.

“Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the one-o-seventh. The rest were killed or captured.”

“The one-o-seventh?” Y/N and Steve questioned at the same time, suddenly standing up. They looked at each other. The one-o-seventh was Bucky’s division.

“What?” Peggy wondered, standing up as well.

“Come on!” Steve insisted, grabbing Y/N’s hand as they ran through the rain to the command tent. Peggy followed behind, holding her coat over her head. “Colonel Phillips,” Steve addressed as they entered the tent.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man with a plan,” the Colonel sarcastically said as he sat at a desk. “And what is your plan today?”

“I need the casualty list from Azzano.”

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.”

“I just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the hundred and seventh.”

Colonel Phillips ignored Steve and pointed to Peggy. “You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy.”

“Please tell us if he’s alive, sir,” Y/N begged. “B, A, R—“

“I can spell,” the Colonel cut her off. He looked at the trio before looking back down at the stack of papers in his hands. He stood up, carrying the papers with him. “I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry.”

Y/N gasped, hand coming up to cover her mouth as she held in a sob. Steve stood there, tall, not letting that be the end of the conversation. He also didn’t want to show his hurt or weakness, though he held onto Y/N’s hand tighter.

“What about the others?” Steve questioned. “Are you planning a rescue mission?”

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war,” Colonel Phillips stated.

“But if you know where they are, why not at least—“

“They’re thirty miles behind the lines. Through the most fortified territory in Europe. We’d lose more men than we’d save. But I don’t expect you to understand that, because you’re a chorus girl.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. “I think I understand just fine.”

“Well then understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you got some place to be in thirty minutes.” Colonel Phillips walked away as Steve looked at the military map, clearly showing where the men were lost.

“Yes, sir. I do.” Steve quickly led himself and Y/N out of the tent and into the show tent.

“Steve,” Y/N whimpered once they were alone inside.

He quickly let go of her hand and pulled her into his chest. That’s when she let loose, let all the tears out. Y/N had never told Steve what had happened between her and his best friend, but it didn’t surprise Steve to see her acting like this. Bucky was her friend too.

“I have to do something, Y/N,” Steve whispered.

“Please, no.” She gripped onto his shirt. “I can’t lose you too.”

“I’m sorry.” He pulled away and began changing and packing somethings. “I have to try and save the guys that are left.”

“What do you plan to do?” Peggy asked as she entered the tent, shaking off her coat. “Walk to Austria?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

“You heard the Colonel, your friend is most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, we don’t,” Y/N cried. “But if you go in there, you’ll most likely die too. And then where does that leave me?”

“Colonel Phillips is devising a strategy,” Peggy stated. “If he detects—“

“By the time he’s done that, it could be too late!” Steve walked out to a jeep, the women following behind. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Every word.”

“Then you gotta let me go.” Steve jumped into the jeep.

“Steve! Please!” Y/N pleaded, grabbing onto his arm. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I have to do what’s right.”

“You can’t drive there, Steve,” Peggy stated. “I have a better way.”

next chapter >

Notes: Tags are struggling right now, for many writers. So I truly appreciate all the likes, comments, and reblogs. It means the world.

#tony stark x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #iron man x reader #captain america x reader #winter soldier x reader #tony stark imagine #Steve Rogers imagine #Bucky Barnes imagine #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #nick fury x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Phil Coulson x reader #howard stark x reader

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ssson-of-sparda · 3 years

Text

WHAT FORTUNE GAVE - CHAPTER 1 (VERGIL X NERO’S MOTHER)

Summary: Vergil arrives in Fortuna and crosses path with a rebellious lady dressed in red. But even if he doesn't want pay attention, Fortuna seemed determined to intertwine their lives.

(PROLOGUE)

Tags: Romance / Angst / Fluff / Explicit Sexual Content / Explicit Language / Canon-Typical Violence / Blood and Gore / Religion / The Order of The Sword / Civil War / Rebellion / Demons / Action and Adventure / Sparda’s past

Author’s note: So, let me introduce you to Elissa aka Nero's mother. I've decided to make her rebellious and quite feisty to mirror Nero's impetuosity. After all, that kid had to take after someone, right? So why not mummy dearest? I know the story might seem slow to start but I need to set up the scenery for the events to come. Hope you like it anyway.

It all started on a Holy Thursday, on the first day of a most-welcomed vigorous spring that tinted the cityscape of the Castle Town of Fortuna in luminous shades of gold and blue. The cobbled streets were empty, the shops and cafes all closed, for all the inhabitants were gathered inside the Cathedral whose majestic dome overlooked the nearby Renaissance-style buildings, a sacred beacon calling the devotees to pray. But the religious establishment was nothing in comparison to the partially-veiled giant-like idol standing tall and massive within the ramparts of the city, a figure made of stone and marble with the face of Vergil’s father. It didn’t look very resembling to him. Sparda never had such delicate features, not in his son’s memories at least. But it did not matter. The young man wasn’t here to judge some clearly distasteful architecture. He was here for the answers and the promises of power that island kept in between its walls. “The Order of the Sword, huh? They worship a demon as a god?” This reality sounded foolish, incomprehensible even. His father was no god. He knew that better than anyone. But what was religion if not idealisation, divinisation of a flawed man? Humans …

***

“Elissa!” A fearful whisper pronounced the girl’s name but it would take more than a whisper for her to stop her mischief. “Elissa! Come dddd-down!” The girl named Elissa smiled, enjoying the risk she was definitely taking. Degrading the Savior? Not her first time. But she had never climbed that high before. “What if sss-omeone sees you … sss-ees us?” She rolled her green eyes, weary of the perpetual anxiety shaking the already very trembling voice of her friend. “Agnus! Stop being such a pussy!” She shouted-murmured, not really knowing why she was murmuring at all. “Everyone’s at church!” Agnus fidgeted even more as he saw the young woman taking her time spraying blue paint on the statue, the tip of her rosy tongue out, an adorable display of her concentration and perfectionism. “Does it look like the Guard’s symbol to you?” She demanded, observing her rebellious art from all possible angles. Agnus sighed and looked up, regretting to have left his lab for this childish yet dangerous adventure. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. He even had a woman and a baby daughter waiting for him at home. So why wasting time playing vandals with Elissa? He knew why. “You’re not looking under my skirt, are you?” The man blushed, terribly uncomfortable. “What? Of cccc-ourse not!” But he was a scientist and scientists were curious beings. That’s what he was telling himself each time he was thinking about what was hidden underneath Elissa’s crimson clothes.The Cathedral bells rang loud, signalling the end of today’s mass. Soon, the people of Fortuna would invade the streets again to come back to their boring daily occupations. “We’re definitely gonna get ccc-caught.” Agnus told himself. “What am I gonna tell Marcus?” A suspect noise stopped Agnus in his alarming thoughts. It was coming from a few streets away. Squeals and growls of fury and pain. Demons? “Ddd-did you hear that?” Elissa listened carefully and recognized the screams. She had heard similar ones in Mitis Forest recently. She had shut a lot of them up too. They were demons alright but not the worst kind. “Just a few …scarecrows.” She tried to reassure Agnus but realised he was already gone. “Such a pussy.” She shook her head, slightly exasperated but not surprised. Agnus was not famous for his bravery, quite the opposite. He was a coward but Elissa was okay with it. After all, he had been providing the Guardians with very useful information concerning demons for a few years now, all that thanks to his natural talents as an alchemist. The girl jumped off the statue and, in order to remove the beige dust from the fabric, shook her old red dress typical of Fortuna fashion, one of the few clothes she had kept from her past life in the Order and that she now used to blend in among the Fortunans each time she would venture in town. She then cautiously pulled up her skirt to reveal a thigh belt hidden under the white petticoat and strapped the spray can, right next to a sharp curved dagger she kept in a thin leather sheath just in case. “Hey! You!” Did we say cautiously? “Shit!” Time to run.

***

Yamato shone in the sun, casting a shadow on Vergil’s young face that even this small fight hadn’t manage to fluster, and once again the blade made one with the saya with a perfect clink that echoed like a lethal musical note in the demon-cleared street. “Just what are your true intentions?” He wondered out loud as he wrapped his blue frame under a linen cloak that looked foreign to anyone who would take a look.Elissa took a look, green eyes staring with curiosity from under her white hood she had carelessly thrown above her head in precipitation to cover her soft locks of fiery ginger when she had left the place of her previous mischief as fast as she could, successfully escaping the angry guards shouting at her. She took a look, knowing exactly what this stranger had just done as she watched him crossing the crowd with purpose, alone, going up the street towards the Cathedral while everyone was walking down, their minds still lost in religious psalms. She stopped in her track for a second to admire him, wondering who he was and where he came from. She imagined a distant city at first, somewhere far away from here, crowded with people who hadn’t been indoctrinated by the Order’s promises. But then, as she noticed his bearing, so stately and yet so lonely, she thought he wasn’t from a particular place but from many places. A wanderer, traveling the world, someone who held knowledge, who had seen what was beyond the horizon of Fortuna. He probably noticed her stare as he concealed his face even more under his hood and slightly hunched his shoulders. So, out of respect and despite her devouring curiosity, Elissa walked away, certain that if Sparda wanted her to meet this mysterious strange again, then their paths would cross one more time.Vergil quietly made his way in the main avenue where the marble giant was standing and slowed down when he noticed a small crowd gathered by the statue’s feet. Everyone was gasping in shock, hands over mouths as if they were the witnesses of the worst sacrilege, the most terrible infamy. Wondering what the fuss was all about, the Son of Sparda peered over everyone’s shoulders from a distance but close enough to spot a graffiti plastered on the leg of the thing the Fortunans seemed to call The Savior. It was a symbol of some sort, a pair of winged arms with sharp claws protecting Sparda’s horned head. It had been drawn with turquoise paint that was still running down the immaculate white stone and that was leaving a heavy odour of solvents in the ambient air, identical to the one Vergil had smelt when that girl who had stared at him with insistence had walked past him, an odour indicating Vergil when the degradation had been made and who had done it.He scoffed briefly, amused by the political provocation and the over-dramatic reaction of the bigoted crowd, and after glancing one last time at the spray-painted symbol, resumed his exploration of the city. “Looks like appearances can be deceiving in this city after all.” Vergil said as he thought about the rebellious girl in saint clothes who didn’t seem to be new in the graffiti drawing business according to the devotees’ wrath. “Those rebels again! Soiling the image of Sparda with their belligerent propaganda. Hope the Order will find them soon.” They agreed with each other with angry nods. “They are worse than demons! They probably hide in shadows like the rats they are.” Had Vergil just stepped in the middle of a civil war?

***

When her holy hood fell back on her shoulders, Elissa sighed in relief, glad to finally feel her soft ginger hair finally liberated from that awful religious cage of white cotton she couldn’t stand wearing anymore. Few more minutes and she would also get rid of that ridiculous dress that constricted her like a straitjacket. But right now, she had a meeting to attend. Summoned by her leader, probably to claim responsibility for her new roguishness that had caused such a big turmoil in the city this morning, she pushed the door of Guardian Marcus’s office without an ounce of fear or apprehension. She knew full well she would not be reprimanded. She never was. “Elissa! My child, come.” The white-haired old man welcomed her with wide opened arms and showed her a seat before him where she sat in silence and waited for him to say what he had to say.At first, he just stared at her, without a word but with half a smile and a look of amusement he couldn’t keep to himself. And finally he spoke with a cheerful tone. “You should have painted it red.” His loud laugh echoed in the room and he took a huge sip of the red wine waiting to be drunk in a fancy chalice next to his velvet armchair. Elissa had a timid respectful smile; unable to act casual with this man who, even though was distant family, had been leading the cause she was fighting for for so many years, since even before she was born. “How did you find out?” “Agnus told me.” He admitted and gauged the girl’s reaction who seemed more disappointed in herself than surprised. “Should have thought so.” “Be careful who you surround yourself with, Elissa. Offering someone your trust can be as dangerous as any blade. Believe me, I know.” He traced the large scar along his wrinkled face, a reminder of an old betrayal that had made him lose, in addition to his left eye, a man he used to call brother and who was now leading Fortuna thanks to his lies and his dark secrets. Sanctus. “I shall remember your advice, sir.” “But you know what surprises me the most? It’s that Adel didn’t try to talk you out of this. After all, he follows you like a shadow … an enamoured shadow even.” Marcus smiled, trying to build complicity with this young lady, the granddaughter of the brother he had lost long ago, a child he loved like his own. Elissa smiled in return and shook her head, having trouble to believe she was having this conversation with her leader. “And yet you seemed keen on refusing his advances. May I know why?” “I didn’t know this was a matchmaking appointment.” Elissa humoured, definitely amused by the situation. “I’m old and I’ve been at war for most of my life. So let’s say, the frivolity of youth and the burgeoning loves are like peaceful songs to my heart.” Elissa sighed and her heart, in spite of this new attempt at making it yield to a man she didn’t love, once again refused to see Adel as nothing else than a friend. “I’m just not interested. Enamoured shadows are not my type.” “ And what, pray tell, is your type?”

***

Vergil had visited many places in his short lifetime. Perpetually on the move – he refused to say ‘on the run anymore’ for running was for the weak – he had seen so many cities, so many different landscapes, some in shades of blue, some in shades of green and other in shades of gold, so many colours most men would have forgotten but that he had somehow always cared to remember. But there was something about Fortuna that made her unique, different from all the things he had had the chance to see. Perhaps was it the anachronistic almost medieval atmosphere that had shaped the city architecture and the inhabitants’ lifestyle or perhaps was it because every edifice seemed to hold secret knowledge about his family. Whatever it was, Vergil was sure of one thing; what made Fortuna special were clearly not the city’s filthy underground bars from Port Caerula, well hidden under the docks, away from prying eyes that would be easily outraged by the debauchery they held between their walls. That kind of place he was familiar with, despite his revulsion for them and the people frequenting them. “Hello, sugar. You’re a new face.” An eccentric woman declared as she tried to take a peek under Vergil’s cowl, her voluptuous body leant against the bar. “And a handsome one. I would lower my price for a face like yours.” The young man glanced at the woman, shortly but long enough to see how she looked, the embodiment of repulsive tragedy that once looked beautiful. Her makeup was smeared and barely hiding the bruises and the cuts on her young face and she was wearing a church outfit ripped at the thighs and purposely unbuttoned to reveal her generous cleavage. And in her velvet purse, she kept a wig made of dry artificial ginger hair some despicable men had certainly asked her to wear more than once. “Not interested. Now leave.” Vergil’s tone was curt and cold but she insisted anyway. “You’re sure? I make the best blowjobs in all Fortuna. Isn’t that right, Captain?” She nodded towards a young charismatic brown-skinned man carrying a crossbow on his back and drinking sitting the stool right next to Vergil. When he heard his name, he spared a glare at the prostitute and at the Son of Sparda as well for no particular reason but because he hated his occasional obscene deviations to be exposed. “He just looooves some naughty church girls. Do you like them too?” Vergil ignored her and focused again on his drink, lying untouched on the bar. He didn’t like drinking. “Or do you prefer them innocent and prudish? I can be either.” “Quit with your lies and just leave, Pomona².” The dark-haired man ordered with a strong voice that made her smile. “ Ha! Looks like I finally have my name back. See you around, sugar… Adel.” She winked and left to sell her body to someone else that would accept it in exchange of a bit of money.“You should not visit that sort of bar if women like Pomona bother you, stranger.” The so-called Adel warned before drinking from his tankard. He, just like everybody else here, could tell Vergil was not from around. All they had to do was looking at him. After all, everyone knew everyone else in a small reclusive island like Fortuna. “It’s sometimes the loudest, worst people that give all the information a man looks for.” “So you’re looking for information then. About what?” Vergil was a curious man but he despised curiosity in other people, especially when he was the subject of their curiosity. “Nothing a man like you knows about.” The answer surprised the Moor who hadn’t expected such arrogance coming from a stranger. “Well, piece of advice. If you want information in Fortuna, there are two ways to get them. Either you don’t behave like an arrogant asshole or you pay for them.” Vergil smirked slightly under his hood as he already knew how to react to such pathetic insult. Adel was not a difficult man to read. “Just like when you want a woman’s love, am I right?” The provocation burnt and stang like the most vicious hot poker piercing through

Adel’s dignity and ego. It pushed him to stand up and grab his crossbow in retaliation. But his weapon, as precise and strong as it was, was useless in close combat and it instantly met the sharp blade of a magnificent katana that would make any swordsman worth the name grow pale. And with a dexterous swift move, the crossbow flew across the room as if it was a paper plane.But the clients in the bar didn’t gasp at the legendary Yamato. They gasped at the silvery-white hair adorning Vergil’s head that had been revealed when he inadvertently had lost his hood in this express fight. “It’s the hair of Sparda.” People whispered, amazed. With an expert graceful move, Yamato found his saya again and Vergil walked through the crowd, high-handed and resolved to escape this place and all those bothering eyes he felt upon him.But as he pushed the door of the establishment, he came face to face with the feminine figure he had noticed in the streets this morning. It stopped him in his track and for the first time in his lifetime, but certainly not the last, he looked into her deep green eyes. They reminded him of an old poem he loved greatly, one he had read so many times and would never grow tired of, about a dark forest and a tyger burning bright³. And as he gazed in that girl’s look and witnessed that emerald wood, wild and dense, trying to conceal in vain the fiery fur of a predator, Vergil knew he would never read that poem the same way or imagine Blake’s colours in the shades he would normally imagine them. And so he stared, longer than he wanted, almost the same way she gazed at the pale blue topazes and at the god-like silver hair crowning his head. But while fire is wild, the ice is timid. And thus, admiration only shows through the eyes of the red lady. And when she finally opened her mouth to speak her mind, Vergil escaped into the night leaving lost shadows behind him. But that was fine. Shadows were not the lady’s type after all.It all started on a Holy Thursday, on the first day of a most-welcomed vigorous spring that tinted the cityscape of the Castle Town of Fortuna in luminous shades of gold and blue. But among them there was this vibrant red and two sparkling amber-tinted emeralds reflecting brighter than anything else in a pair of icy eyes, a mirror who strangely wouldn’t mind seeing that reflection again.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: ¹ Marcus: derived from the name of the Roman god of war, Mars to highlight Marcus' status and personality. ² Pomona: From Latin pomus "fruit tree". The word "Pomme" is also the French for "apple", the fruit of temptation. Pomona will come back in other chapters. ³ a tyger burning bright : From William Blake's poem The Tyger

#devil may cry #devil may cry fanfiction #vergil #nero's mother #vergil x nero's mother #vergil fanfiction

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patriciasage · 3 years

Text

promises, promises

Author: Patricia_Sage

Fandom: The Adventure Zone - Balance

Summary:

Taako made two promises to his sister early on in this seemingly endless mission. Firstly, he isn’t allowed to intentionally cut a cycle short, no matter how much time is left, no matter how much he misses her. Secondly, if she’s gone, he has to take care of Barry.

He isn’t sure what his sister was thinking with the second one. ‘Taako’ and ‘take care of’ are not words that naturally go together for anyone other than Lup. He loves the entire crew, of course he does, but he would rather kill for them than comfort them.

This is the first cycle where Lup is dead and neither Taako nor Barry had gone with her.

posted in full under the break but you can find me on AO3!!

There are two months left in the cycle and Lup is gone. She, Merle, and Davenport were poisoned during a political meeting.

Taako hadn’t been hungry that day. He wishes he would have taken a drink. Magnus hates when he says it, but he prefers to die by her side than live without her. And death would have been much more preferable to watching her choke and spasm in front of him. Helpless.

Lucretia has a lot on her plate now, attempting to negotiate with the bastards who killed them. There was death on both sides, since Taako literally burned the place to the ground. It seems as though they’re on the verge of war – the four remaining crewmembers versus this country’s royal armies.

Taako doesn’t give a shit.

“What’s the fucking point?” he asks Lucretia when she made plans to meet with the royal representative. “This cycle’s gone to Hell; let’s just go.”

“We have two months left,” Lucretia says. “We have a chance to work through this and get the Light. Then they didn’t die in vain.” Her voice cracks. Taako attempts to be gentle with his friend, even though rage flows through him like a roaring stream.

But quiet vitriol escapes his mouth. “Are they even worth saving?”

Lucretia looks at him with bright, brown eyes. “Taako.”

“They killed Merle and Davenport and Lup! And they should have killed me too. And we’re still going to bend over backwards in order to save them? They obviously wouldn’t do the same for us.”

“That’s not how this works,” Lucretia says, quiet and stern. “We don’t decide who is worth saving or not.” She places her dark hand on Taako’s shoulder. “I know you’re hurting, T. And I won’t make you be a part of this. But I’m going to try and get the Light of Creation. And you’re going to make it through these next few months to see her again.”

Taako could see her again right now if he wanted to. But he doesn’t say that. And he doesn’t let himself truly entertain the thought. He promised.

Everyone on the ship is grieving in their own way. Barry becomes entirely reclusive, locking himself in his lab. Magnus cries a lot over the first few days and blames himself for not being at the meeting to protect them, but then he focuses his energy into learning to pilot the Starblaster. Taako attempts to distract his mind from the grief that sits deep in his bones.

Knowing their deaths are temporary doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Magnus makes it his personal mission to take care of Taako, which is very annoying but also helps with his plan for distraction. He sits next to the Magnus as the fighter test-drives the ship. It’s hard to think about your dead sister when your friend is crashing a spaceship into a lake.

But Magnus isn’t only recklessness and aggressive enthusiasm. He’s also soft and sensitive – and fucking manipulative. He tells Taako he needs a hug or someone to keep him company when he sleeps. Taako knows these are partial lies. He knows that Magnus just wants to hold his pieces together, to shield Taako from the nightmares that tear him apart.

Taako travels through the days like molasses. He wants to exist in the bare minimum, avoid the smouldering flame threatening to burn him up. But it’s hard to exist, unfeeling, in a world where he’s always had her at his side. He can’t do anything without thinking of her.

He drinks too much.

It helps a little, but it causes Magnus to make that sad, helpless expression, so Taako hides it as best he can.

He made two promises to his sister early on in this seemingly endless mission. Firstly, he isn’t allowed to intentionally cut a cycle short, no matter how much time is left, no matter how much he misses her. Secondly, if she’s gone, he has to take care of Barry.

Taako isn’t sure what his sister was thinking with the second one. ‘Taako’ and ‘take care of’ are not words that naturally go together for anyone other than Lup. He loves the entire crew, of course he does, but he would rather kill for them than comfort them.

This is the first cycle where Lup is dead and neither Taako nor Barry had gone with her.

Food is always an effective way to build a bridge between two stubborn souls. Taako steps foot into the Starblaster’s kitchen for the first time since the disaster a few weeks ago. Lucretia is a passable cook, so the remaining crew haven’t been suffering too much, but her meals are nothing compared to the twins’ concoctions.

Absolutely everything on this ship reminds Taako of his sister (pretty much every aspect of existence reminds him of his sister), but the kitchen is particularly salient. He stands in the doorway and breathes through it, thankful that no one is around. Lup is the only one who knows him at his core, the only one who’s ever seen his soft, fragile centre. Magnus has been digging closer and closer every cycle with his big hands and even bigger smile. But there’s no one Taako trusts like he trusts Lup.

And she’s gone.

And he made her a promise.

There are so many lakes on this world. Taako had spent most of springtime fishing and filleting, so the freezer is full. He takes out a few cuts of cod, expertly deboned, as well as some salt, pepper, lemon, chili powder, and dill. He starts the rice boiling and thaws the fish with a flick of his wand. The meat hasn’t been frying for too long before Magnus and Lucretia appear at the kitchen table, summoned by the smell. They’re looking at him with an irritating mixture of encouragement and wariness. He ignores them and focuses on cooking. He’s mentally batting away memories and feelings constantly and it’s starting to take a toll.

The kitchen is silent except for the sizzle of fish in the pan and the soft murmur of boiling rice. Taako transmutes some beans into asparagus and tosses that in the pan as well.

“Fucking talk,” he says to the stove.

Magnus startles into conversation. Taako feels his friends’ gazes move away from his back and toward each other. He focuses on their chat even though it’s boring. It’s easier than fighting his heart’s insistent ache.

He avoids looking at their faces while he places their meals in front of them. “Thank you,” Lucretia says softly. Magnus places a big, warm hand on the wizard’s shoulder.

Taako feels his mouth press into a shadow of a smile. He squeezes Magnus’s hand and steps away. “Dig in. I’m gonna bring some to the lab rat.”

Barry is asleep at his desk, drooling on a sketch of one of his prototypes. Taako sets the plate down next to him and watches the smell wake him up. His glasses are askew even when he lifts his head.

There’s an awful moment when he looks at Taako and his face softly lights up. Taako’s stomach sinks, and then Barry comes fully into awareness and looks away. Taako regrets shaving his face his morning and he regrets wearing his hair up the way Lup usually does before bed. He doesn’t blame Barry for the disappointment.

“This is good shit, so you’d better not let it get cold,” Taako says. He leans against the workbench with his arms crossed.

“Smells good,” Barry replies with his characteristic, gruff awkwardness. Taako tries not to fidget. The chill of Lup’s absence is strongest in the kitchen, but it’s swirling around the lab, too. It’s typical to see Lup sprawled on the couch pretty much every evening, chattering while Barry tries and fails to focus on his work.

Barry puts a forkful of rice in his mouth and speaks around it. Gross. “Did you eat already?”

Taako is absentmindedly surprised when he realizes he hasn’t eaten anything except a bite of toast that Magnus practically shoved in his mouth this morning. He curses himself for thinking about it too long and ruining what could have been a perfectly good lie. “Yep, sure did.”

“Taako…” Barry says disapprovingly, lowering his fork.

“Get outta my ass, Barry. I’m, like, a hundred years old, or something.” Age doesn’t mean much to them, anymore. “Don’t treat me like a child.”

“I’m not treating you like a child. I’m treating you like – ” He sighs. “Do you have some left over upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Taako lies. He walks toward the door. “Gonna go eat now, so…enjoy, or whatever.”

Barry rubs his eyes under his glasses. “Thanks, Taako.”

“Shit,” Taako mutters as he climbs the stairs. Why didn’t Lup tell Magnus or Lucretia to take care of Barry? Hell, anyone would do a better job than him.

Taako enters the now empty kitchen and casts Prestidigitation to clean the dishes, but he stops before he can leave for the upper deck. There’s a full plate of food on the table. It’s obvious that Magnus and Lucretia had each put half of their meal onto a clean plate. They’re taking advantage of his inability to throw away food, engrained from his childhood. Taako sighs but sits at the table to eat. He feels more solid when he’s done, but just as empty.

The next day is better.

“Come for a walk,” Taako demands from Barry’s bedroom doorway. Barry yelps and covers his chest with a blanket.

“Taako!”

“Come for a walk!” the elf repeats, leaving the door ajar as he leaves.

Barry joins him on the Starblaster’s lower deck in a few minutes, hair messy but fully clothed. “Where are we going?”

Before Taako has a chance to respond, Magnus rushes in. “Don’t forget your cloak – it’s kinda cold. Oh, hey, Barry. You coming with us?”

“I guess I am.”

“Great!”

Magnus hands Barry his denim jacket and throws Taako’s thicker cloak in his direction. The security officer himself is wearing a wool-lined vest with no sleeves. Taako resists the urge to roll his eyes when he notices.

The men don’t talk a lot as they traverse the path that Magnus and Taako have worn down over the last few weeks. They skip rocks on the surface of the still water. Barry stays far away from the water’s edge. Magnus picks Taako up and pretends he’s about to throw him in. Instead of protesting, Taako looks the man in the eyes with a challenge. “Do it. I fucking dare you, Burnsides.” Magnus freezes and just stands there holding the elf in his arms for a moment. Taako smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

Barry disappears into his lab when they return to the ship, but Taako still considers it a success. After a few days, Barry no longer needs to be woken up; he joins them in the foyer, sleepy but ready, every morning. Lucretia comes, too, when she’s not out negotiating.

Taako cooks when he can.

Sometimes he’s good. Sometimes the air of the kitchen suffocates him. Barry sees him once, standing in the pantry, frozen and overwhelmed. “Hey,” he says. There’s something soft and complex in his expression when Taako whirls around.

“What’s up, my man?” Taako’s voice breaks more than usual. The stiffness of his hands betrays him, too. Barry beckons him out of the pantry. Taako follows quietly as the scientist travels to the Starblaster’s upper deck.

The endless night sky is strangely comforting. There aren’t many constants in their life besides each other, their target, and their enemy. But the sky is always there and ready to take them away.

Barry opens a hatch near the centre of the deck and brings out what looks like a piece from a broken chair. “Ready?” he asks.

“What?”

Barry just nods and then throws the item high into the air. Taako understands when it reaches his highest peak, but he can’t bring himself to take out his wand. The piece of wood falls into a nearby like with a soft splash.

“Oh, sorry,” Barry says awkwardly. “You’re supposed to hit it with a spell –”

“I know what I’m supposed to do, Barry. I’ve lived with her my whole life,” Taako snaps. He takes a breath and tries again. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, man. But that’s her. She feels things build up inside and needs to let ‘em out in a way she can control. But I- …I’m not full of anything.” He turns to leave. “So, thanks, dude, but this isn’t gonna work for me.”

Barry grabs his wrist. “Taako, wait!” He looks a little helpless. “Then what does work for you? Tell me.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on.” Barry attempts a smile but he’s shivering a little in the night air. “Like you said to me the other day – you’re over a hundred years old. You know. So, tell me what makes you feel better when you feel like shit so I can help you out.”

“I don’t want your fucking help, Barry.”

“Well, that’s too damn bad!” Barry rarely raises his voice. It echoes across the empty deck and is swallowed by the night sky. “Tell me, Taako.”

He knows the answer will hurt both of them when it leaves his mouth, but he says it anyway. “Being with her.” Barry averts his gaze and Taako feels both sick and triumphant. “Just…being in her company makes me feel like a person again. So. Unless you can do that for me, I think we’re done here.”

Taako stands outside Magnus’s bedroom door for a few minutes. He raises his hand to knock then lowers it again. He spends the night on a nearby dock, listening to the waves lap against the shore and slowly emptying a bottle of rum.

The next morning, they pretend it didn’t happen. They go for their morning walk and let Magnus carry the conversation.

Lucretia gets the Light of Creation against all odds – and just in time. There’s only about two days left in this Cycle. Taako makes her favourite dish, piri piri chicken, and they allow themselves to celebrate with wine and music. It never feels completely right to celebrate, knowing the Hunger is still going to cause a lot of damage, but they need to allow themselves these small successes. The men also feel the need to show appreciation to Lucretia, since she worked tirelessly to save this world while they went for walks and crashed the ship into lakes.

Magnus is dancing with Lucretia in the kitchen and Taako makes a quick exit before the big man can trap him in another embrace. He finds Barry on the couch, lost in thought. He sits down beside him, touching their wine glasses together in a small toast. “We made it,” the wizard says before taking another drink.

“Yeah,” Barry says. They’re both thinking the same thing. They’ll see her again soon.

Barry turns to face him. “Listen, Taako, I’m sorry I was so pushy the other night.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s just…” Barry sighs. “I promised her I’d take care of you and I –”

“What?” Taako interrupts. They look at each other, incredulous and inquiring. “She made me promise to take care of you, dude.”

Barry smiles and laughs. Taako fumes. As if Barry Bluejeans could take care of him – what was she thinking? “We both did kind of a shit job, didn’t we?” Barry says.

“Hey, without me you would’ve starved to death.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

A few days later, Magnus flies the Starblaster through the Hunger’s advancing tendrils, their bodies fragment, and the entire crew materializes in their set places. Before Lup can even take a breath, Taako shoves her hard. “What the fuck?” she sputters. He silences her with a hug.

The IPRE crew puts the past behind them and they settle into a new life on a new world. Barry and Lup go back to their routine of being attached at the hip and stubbornly not talking about their feelings. Lup and Taako cook and practice magic together. Barry and Taako aren’t close, per se, but they tolerate each other in a new, honest and kind way.

It’s worth it to see the smile on Lup’s face.

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