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weareallstoriesintheend · 3 years

Note

A writing request: Protective Clyde rescues reader from a guy being a little too handsy at the bar. Makes sure reader gets home safely. Super fluff/protective Clyde. Maybe ends with a 'thank you' kiss on the cheek. Annnddd I'm already crying thinking about you writing this

Safe & Sound (Reader x Clyde Logan)

Note: For you @ladyinwriting18? Anything! 🥰

Part 1 of the Safe & Sound Series. Here is Part 2 & 3

Warnings: Creepy misogynistic bullshit. But also the fluffiest of fluff!

Words: 2,407

Smutty Part 2 - HERE

The smell of whiskey breath ghosting over your face made your stomach turn. You were just trying to have a quiet drink at the ‘Duck Tape’ after a long day at work and all of a sudden you were having your evening ruined by some overbearing guy with half a bottle of dutch courage behind him. “Seriously, I’m okay thank you” you said politely, trying to catch the eye of anyone who could get this guy off you. You were not one to be polite to guys that harass you usually but something about this guy’s overly aggressive lean towards you had put you on edge. All sorts of images and scenarios were flashing through your mind and your heart was starting to hammer in your chest. But just like always, just like you were taught from the time you can walk, you played it off by smiling sweetly and being as polite as possible. Annoyingly you’d chosen to sit in the back corner of the bar tonight so you had nowhere to go but past him. Your dress was high up on your thigh and you tried, subtly, to pull it down. “Nah, come on sweetheart” he said with a smirk, flicking your long hair off your shoulder dragging his fingers purposely along your skin as he does it “Let me buy you a drink” You went to speak again, hoping to brush him off but the panic in you was rising. The feeling of his skin on yours had triggered something within you, you fidgeted your hands over each other on the bar top to stop them trembling. You looked up at him, mustering up that fake sweet smile again, turning to grab your jacket to leave – figuring this was the only way to get him to leave you alone – before you heard someone else speak.

“I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” you heard the deep drawl before you looked up. Clyde Logan was sidling his way across to where you were sat in the corner, the light of the bar was behind him like an aura. Your lumbering guardian angel. Honestly you’d never paid too much attention to him, he was just… Clyde. He’d been around forever except for when you’d returned from college and found out he was off in Iraq. Clyde was just the big grumpy bartender who made a mean vodka cranberry for you every Friday night; the same grumpy bartender who always slipped in an extra lime because he knew you liked it. You gave him a relieved smile as you caught his eye; he instantly turned his attention back to the guy leaning against you as he piped up once more. “Oh come on Clyde, I was only havin’ a bit of fun” he slurred, giving him a hacking laugh before slipping his hand up your arm and onto your shoulder. You instantly tensed up, skin crawling as you could feel the sweat drip from his forehead on your bare shoulder as he propped himself against you. “Oh I’m sure ya are. But see, I don’t think she finds it very fun do you darlin’?” Clyde said looking at you out the corner of his eye and you shook your head. “Now I’m asking ya to leave cause you’re making my customers uncomfortable. I’m damn sure this woman, nice as she is, doesn’t want your hands all over her now does she?” You shook your head again and the guy looked at you, having the audacity to scoff in offense at your response before turning back to Clyde with a grin. But Clyde kept talking “Her shakin’ her head there? That’s her sayin’ no. Got that? So I’m goin’ to ask you one more time to get off her. Look at her… sweet like a little bird she is, she don’t need your big greasy paws all over her like that” The drunk guy sneered and jostled your shoulders in a jovial way, trying to show Clyde how you were at ease you supposed, and you felt his metal watch strap nick your skin at the back of your neck and you hissed softly at the pain. There was a sudden thud and you looked down; Clyde had grabbed the guy’s free arm that was resting on the bar with his flesh hand. He gave it a sudden tug and the guy gave a high-pitched yelp as he was pulled closer to Clyde and off you. “I said… I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” Clyde repeated. You knew sweet, quiet Clyde could have a temper when he needed one; you’d seen him strong-arm a few guys out on their asses a few times over the years. You’d always quietly admired how sturdy and wide his body looked, comfortable and yet solid. So when he did things like that you’d silently sip your drink, pretending you weren’t watching his bicep bulge under his long-sleeved shirt as he grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck or twist their arm behind their back and haul them out the bar. Another bar patron, an older guy, was walking past this little scene and shot the drunk guy a knowing look before giving his input “Now Billy! Logan here’s got two tours under his belt. Show the guy some respect. Make yourself scarce, come on” Clyde shoo’d this new guy off with a tilt of his head and the guy threw his hands up in surrender before walking away. Billy let out another hacking laugh that made you flinch slightly in your seat, it was full of contempt and far too much confidence for a man in his position “What do you think ya goin’ to do Logan? One arm freak ain’t gunna do nothin’ to me!” “I think you’ll find that I still have my arm, just my forearm and hand that’s missin’. I still got enough to break this arm of yours in three places if you don’t leave this beautiful young lady alone” “Oh I see, Little Logan got a crush” Billy grinned cockily at him, spittle was flying out of his mouth as he slurred and it made you cringe as you saw it landing on Clyde’s dark blue shirt. You started to panic again, you didn’t know what Clyde was going to do next and you shot him a look. You didn’t want him to get himself in trouble for you and after everything that had had happened at the speedway you worried that one little thing would get the cops on

his ass again. He caught your panicked expression and gave you a contemplative pout before turning his head back to Billy. He dragged Billy a little closer so he was bent uncomfortably; you could see his belt cutting deep into his side, pressed into him by the wood of the bar. He was flinching and groaning in Clydes strong grasp, when Clyde spoke he was close to his face and his voice was a low, slow and dangerously calm growl “Now somethin’ tell me this precious, good woman here wants me to spare you the pain I was plannin’ on givin’ ya, kind as she is. So I’m goin’ to let you go but if I ever see you so much as look at her again I’ll show you what two tours in Iraq teaches ya. Got it?” You watched as Billy quickly gathered up his jacket that was hanging haphazardly from the chair he had been sitting on and skitter out the bar like a dog with its tail between its legs. Clyde gave you a pouty but satisfied nod before calmly going back to washing glasses.

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The bar was closing in around an hour so Clyde made you another drink, extra lime as always, to steel your nerves. As he walked around, picking up after people and saying goodnight to the stragglers he kept a close eye on you. Always looking back over his shoulder to where you were sat. You smiled every time he looked at you, several times you thought about getting up to leave for the night but he always caught your eye and something in his look made you sip your drink a little slower. Maybe you should stick around.

“He didn’t hurt you or nothing did he?” Clyde said in a low voice so the last people that were leaving couldn’t hear him. Part of you wondered if he was embarrassed to be helping you but then you realised, as he turned his body to literally shield you from the gaze of the rest of the patrons in the bar, he was protecting your privacy. “No Clyde, I’m fine thank you” you smiled, brushing your dress down awkwardly trying to ease the tension. Clyde was a man of few words usually but he made up for it in the intensity of his stare and right now that stare was focussed purely on you. His eyes roamed over you and it made a heat rise up on the back of your neck. He made a grunting noise, almost to himself, and he leaned over the bar to fetch a napkin. He turned the tap on that was over the small bar sink and dipped the napkin under the running water. You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow in question and he nodded to you shoulder. You looked down and noticed a small trail of dried blood running down your shoulder from where the guy had cut you with his watch. “Can I touch ya? Is that okay?” he asked, eyes soft and concerned as he studied you. You nodded shyly and he leant forward and wiped the napkin over your skin gently. You watched his hand carefully, the huge size of it compared to your arm making you bite back a giggle. The cold of his horseshoe ring brushing lightly against your skin made you break into goosebumps. He dabbed and patted to make sure he got it all wiped away “There ya go, all cleaned up” He gave your arm a stroke with his thick knuckles, like he was doubly making sure you were all squared away. Clyde Logan didn’t smile very much, you always thought his signature grumpy pout was actually quite endearing, but in this moment as you gazed up at him he gave you the smallest, most tender smile and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. “You don’t have to take care of me you know?” you whispered, he shook his head as he hopped up on the bar and swung himself back over. “Well of course I do, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to deal with assholes like that!” You gave him a small push to his chest that barely moved him “You stop that!” you laughed, he chuckled as you dipped your head down, letting your hair hide the growing blush on your cheeks. “I only speak the truth darlin’” he said turning to wander over to the cash register “Give me 2 minutes to check todays takins’ and I’ll drive ya home” You scoffed and dropped off your high bar stool onto your feet “You really don’t need to do that, I’m sure that guy is long gone” “Well I can’t just let ya go home on your on now can I? What kind of gentleman would I be if I did that?” he said, you swear you saw him smirk to himself and he pushed his hip into the cash register to close it. He turned to you, swinging his jacket off the hook on the wall and around his shoulders. “Oh Clyde, you’re sweet but I’ll be okay” You stepped forward as you spoke and helped him pull his jacket over his prosthetic arm “Really! I don’t live too far, you know that! It’s only a mile round the corner I can walk it” You flushed at his forwardness and unexpected level of care he was showing you. The heat was rising up on the fact of your neck again and you couldn’t quite decide if it was embarrassment or something a little more intimate. “Nonsense, I won’t hear another word on the matter” he shot you another smile; you quite liked this more relaxed Clyde. There was something about that shy smile that made you accept his offer with a small nod. “Perfect. Let me grab my keys and I’ll drive ya”

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You hopped down out of his truck as he opened the passenger door for you, which he had insisted on doing; he’d even held out his prosthetic arm for you to use to steady yourself as you dropped unsteadily onto your driveway. You’d thanked him quietly and he’d responded “Nothing but the best for the princess” making you giggle and elbow his side jokingly. You both wandered down the driveway in comfortable silence, nothing but crickets and the crunch of gravel beneath both your shoes.

“Safe and sound now aren’t ya” he said, tapping your front door absentmindedly with his knuckle, watching you wrestle your keys out of your bag. You chuckled and nodded, before you could give yourself a second to overthink it you pitched up on your tip toes, pulling him down slightly with your a small hand on his wide shoulder, and placed a timid kiss to his cheek. “Thank you Clyde” you whispered. You giggled slightly as a noticeable pink blush bloomed across his cheeks and he shook his head and stuttered “N-no thanks necessary sweetheart”

You put your key in the lock and he turned to leave with a courteous nod goodnight. As you pushed open the door breathing out a tightly held in sigh, suddenly thankful to be in the comfort of your own home, you heard him say your name. You spun to see him a few feet away from you, rocking on his heels slightly “Come by the bar tomorrow night? I’ll make you another one of those cranberry drinks you like and…I’d errr… I’d love to see ya”

Now it was your turn to blush, you hoped he couldn’t see it in the shadow of your doorway

“I’d love too. See you then” you replied, giving him a small wave before going inside.

Maybe you should have paid more attention to the big grumpy bear behind the bar because it turns out, he’s rather sweet.

#clyde logan #logan lucky #clyde logan x reader #clyde logan x you #request

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rhyrhy462 · 4 years

Text

Sleepover (G.D.)

Pairing: grayson dolan x best friend!reader

Warnings: bad writing, pining, one swear word, semi-sappines, self-indulgent because of the big mouth thing and the snacks

gif by @pinof

Everyone knew that Grayson Dolan went to bed early. It never failed that he was turning his phone off and putting it on his nightstand at midnight.

His best friend, Y/N, was a night owl. She went to bed at 3 in the morning most of the time.

Grayson and Y/N tried to squeeze in sleepovers whenever they could. These usually happened on Friday nights and consisted of, in no particular order, eating dinner, watching a movie, begging Grayson to take you to a grocery store to buy snacks, listening to music, begging Grayson to get you ice cream, and sleeping.

So just like all the other Friday nights, Y/N knocked on Grayson and Ethan’s door at exactly 6:53pm. She knows it’s a very specific time, but Grayson always has dinner ready by 7:05. So if she gets there at the perfect time, dinner will be ready and Grayson can’t yell at her for getting there too early when she complains about being hungry.

“It’s open, Y/N” Grayson yelled through the door, right as she was turning the knob and pushing the door in.

“I don’t even get a hello? I brought you homemade almond butter and everything!” If there was one thing Grayson loved in this world, it was Y/N’s homemade almond butter. He knew she just got the recipe online, but every time he tried to make it, it just didn’t turn out the right way.

“I’m sorry babe. Come give me a hug” Y/N felt her heart flutter when he called her ‘babe.’ Yeah, they called each other pet names all the time, but he said it so casually, almost as if she was his girl-

“Come gimme a hug.” Grayson pressed again, just as she started walking towards him.

She wrapped her arms around him, just as he wrapped one arm around her, still pushing around vegetables in a pan. “I missed you.”

Y/N and Grayson hadn’t had a sleepover in about a month and a half. They had both been busy. Whenever they did get to see each other, it’d be for an hour or so, but they never got to have fun with each other. “Missed you more.” Grayson replied, right as he was dumping the vegan stir-fry onto their plates.

“Looks good.” She said, as she started putting dishes in the dishwasher. If Y/N hated anything, it was having to do the dishes after she’s gotten comfortable. Lucky for her, Grayson had listened to her and started putting dishes in the dishwasher as he went along instead of having 30 dishes in the sink. She put the five dishes that had been left in the dishwasher, picked up her plate, and looked at Grayson questioningly. She was silently asking him if he was ready to go eat in his room.

“Let’s go.” Was all Grayson had to say to have her following him to his room.

Once they made it to Grayson’s room, Y/N plopped down onto his bed as he picked up the remote from his desk and tossed it to her. Every sleepover they alternated who got to choose what they watched. This time, it was Y/N’s turn. She turned his tv on and went straight to Netflix. Grayson had a feeling he knew what she was gonna pick. She threatened him with it all the time, but she did actually want to rewatch the show.

Grayson groaned as soon as he saw that she was hovering on Big Mouth. “What’s wrong with Big Mouth?” She genuinely wanted to know his answer.

“You’ve seen it at least ten times and you quote the whole show.” Grayson complained. He wasn’t wrong though. Y/N knew Big Mouth like the back of her hand. The reason why she watched it so many times was so she could directly quote the show. She already knew most of the iconic lines, but there were some she was still trying to learn.

“It’s my night to choose, babes. I hate to break it to ya, but I choose Big Mouth.” She said, just as she clicked on Season 1, Episode 2 ‘Everybody Bleeds.’ It was one of her favorite episodes because it was funny, but also because she knew the quotes. It was also the first episode Ladybug appeared in. If Y/N was honest, Ladybug was probably her favorite character. Ladybug was also the only character that she could completely quote.

With food in hand, she got as close to Grayson as humanly possible, just as he was draping a blanket over both of their legs. They ate while they exchanged jokes and talked about how’d they’d been, all while Y/N still managed to quote the best lines from Big Mouth.

They had finished eating a while ago. Now it was 9pm and Y/N wanted snacks. From their cuddled up position, she looked up at him, to see him looking at the screen. She smiled to herself because as much as he hated to admit it, Grayson thought Big Mouth was hilarious. “Gray?” She questioned, because yes, they had had dinner two hours ago, but she was ready for snacks.

He didn’t even have to look at her to know what she wanted. The first thing he did was look at his watch to confirm what time it was. It never failed. Around 9 o’clock, Y/N always wanted snacks. So he untangled himself from her and sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. His eyes darting around the room trying to find something that Y/N is completely unaware of. “Grayson? What are you looking for? Where are you going?” She asked, rubbing her eyes.

“I’m looking for two hoodies. You want to go get snacks don’t you?” Grayson said, realizing that none of his hoodies were anywhere in his room and he’d have to go into his closet.

“You know me so well.” She said, grinning when Grayson came out of his closet, two hoodies in hand, and tossed one to her.

Right after she slipped it on, on top of her shirt, Grayson was asking her, “Ready?”

He didn’t even wait for her response, just started walking towards his bedroom door, to which she followed right behind him, all the way to the Porsche. After they got in the car, he turned to look at her and asked, “Where we goin’?”

“Target.” She responded, as he started backing out of the driveway. Y/N always, always, let Grayson choose the music. Grayson always said the driver got to choose the music, but she never put up a fight with anything he chose. Which is why when Grayson asked her to shuffle his Young Thug playlist, she did it. No questions asked, bobbing her head to the music, even rapping some of it, on their way to Target.

When they got there, Grayson parked in the closest parking space he could find. There were a few cars in the parking lot, but not too many. Even if Grayson hadn’t seen Y/N in a while, he always kept three masks in his car. One for himself, one for Ethan, and one for Y/N. They both put their masks on and started walking toward the entrance.

When they got inside, Y/N was grabbing Grayson’s hand and dragging him all the way to the snacks section. The first thing she grabbed was pretzels, one of her all time favorite snacks, but sometimes she forgets how much she likes them. She went on a search to find Nutella, which in the process, Grayson made a smart comment about it not being vegan. Then she grabbed two bags of Doritos, cool ranch and nacho cheese.

Immediately after she grabbed the Doritos, she thought about ice cream. Grayson was on this stupid health kick getting ready for this match with Logan, that doesn’t even have a date. Because of that, it had become 200 times harder to convince Grayson to get ice cream. He knew that if he was around Y/N when she was eating ice cream, he’d cave. Which is why right now, when he saw that look in Y/N’s eyes, he knew exactly what she wanted.

He didn’t even let her get it out, “No.”

“But I didn’t even-“

“Absolutely not. I’m trying to eat healthy.”

“You don’t have to have any. Just let me get some.” She pleaded.

“Y/N, no. Are you done?”

“Grayson, please?” She begged, giving him that look that she knew would make him say yes.

“Fuckin’ fine. Let’s go” Grayson said, giving in.

So they walked to the ice cream section. Y/N already knew what she was going to get. She picked up two jars of Talenti. She made sure to choose vegan flavors, so she chose Alphonso Mango and Roman Raspberry. Grayson groaned when he realized she chose vegan ice cream. “You want me to have some that bad?”

She just nodded and told him, “I’m ready to check out.”

They walked to self-checkout and put everything down. Grayson always let Y/N scan because it was one of her favorite things to do. She didn’t know why, it just made her happy. When she had scanned everything, she went to pull out her card. “Uh-uh.” This was a conversation they had all the time. Y/N could afford to buy her own snacks, but Grayson just wouldn’t allow it.

“Grayson, at most it’s 25 dollars. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I invited you over, so I should pay for it.”

“I asked for snacks, so I should pay for it.”

“Let me pay for it this time and then you can pay me back later.” Grayson only suggested that because he knew she never carried cash and he didn’t have cash app.

“Fine, but I get to buy them next time.”

“Ok, fine.” Grayson just shrugged his shoulders.

“Promise.” Y/N said, holding out her pinky.

“I promise.” Grayson said, as he linked their pinkies together rolling his eyes.

The ride back to Grayson’s house was smooth, but it felt long. So long, that Y/N tilted her head back and closed her eyes for what felt like 2 minutes. It actually ended up being a little under 30 because when she was opening her eyes, they were pulling into his driveway.

Grayson didn’t say anything about her falling asleep. Every chance he got, he’d glance over at the sleeping girl beside him. Right now, though, he was running over to open the car door for her and help her out. Every time she fell asleep in the car she was always disoriented for a few minutes after.

When they got back to his bedroom, spoons in hand because they stopped at the kitchen to get napkins and spoons, Grayson dropped the bag in the middle of the bed while Y/N crawled right back in his bed. As Grayson was climbing into bed, Y/N realized that it was a little after 11pm. She knew once Grayson had some ice cream, he’d be out like a light and she’d be up all alone, but she just wanted to live in the moment. Turning Big Mouth back on, they snuggled, both holding ice cream and a blanket thrown over them because Grayson knew Y/N got cold when she ate ice cream, but refused to admit it.

It was closing in on 12am and she saw Grayson trying to keep his eyes open and converse with her about any and everything. “Go to sleep, babe. I can stay up on my own.” She murmured to him as she went to reach for the remote to turn the tv off, so Grayson could sleep well.

Grayson grabbed the remote before she could and sat up a little bit straighter, “Don’t be silly. I want to stay up with you.”

“Babyyyy.” She said, absolutely oblivious to the fact that he was in love with her and would stay up all night with her if it meant getting to hang out with her.

“I love you, Y/N.” And he meant it with everything he had.

“I love you more, bub.” She responded, as Grayson pulled her even further into his chest.

tagging: @blindedbythelightt @333dolans @foxglovedolan

A/N: hi! if you read it, thank you!! this had no business being 2k words, but it’s my longest fic thus far. if you have feedback let me know. if you wanna be tagged, which idk why you would, but if you do lmk. this literally took like 3 hours to write becuase writers block 😭😭😭😭 anyway, this is so self-indulgent i- anyway, love you sm. peace ✌️

#grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fluff #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan concept #grayson dolan blurb #grayson dolan x reader #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins concept #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins fanfic #dolan twins fic #grayson bailey dolan #rhyan writes

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libraryofloveletters · 3 years

Text

in a matter of seconds, the world crumbled

Summery: The thought of not being able to tell Eddie how he felt never crossed his mind until that moment, the moment the world crumbled

post-coda of 4x13 in which things take a turn for the worse.

Warnings: blood, hospitals, medical inaccuracies, injuries, death.

A/N: Thought I'd try my hand at breaking your hearts. Do forgive the medical inaccuracies, I don’t know medical terminology for shit. Also for my beloved Logan because I told her I was making it sad @mrs-dr-reid

[AO3 LINK]

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The warmth of the blood splattered across his face caused his own blood to run cold.

The gaping hole in his shoulder as he stood across from him, the two of them frozen in time.

Everything happened so fast.

Buck didn’t have a chance to register what had happened. One minute he and Eddie were talking and the next he was on the floor. Buck and Eddie were both in shock. The blood soaked through his uniform, Buck couldn’t bring himself to move - everything in him was screaming to run toward Eddie but physically couldn’t.

If it weren’t for Captain Metha, Buck would be right next to Eddie with a bullet in him too.

The next 5 minutes were a blur.

Buck was beside the truck on the floor, his eyes glued to Eddie.

Eddie was slipping and he was slipping fast.

“Shots fired! Firefighter is down, I repeat, firefighter is down!”

“Eddie,” he mumbled. “His name is Eddie.” Buck says to himself.

All Buck wanted to do was run towards Eddie, to help him like Eddie had helped him when he was pinned under the truck not so long ago but he couldn’t.

Eddie’s breaths were slow and heavy, it seemed like it hurt him to breathe. The blood trickled across the concrete, the pool of blood becoming bigger by the second.

Eddie’s eyes found Buck’s.

The honey brown eyes that Buck loved so much were filled with fear yet were so empty at the same time.

It was almost as if Eddie knew no one would be able to come help him before he bled out- of course he knew, it was his job to know how to assess the situation and how much time someone had.

The ocean blue eyes that Eddie could stare into forever would be the last thing he saw.

Buck’s heart broke every second little by little, watching as Eddie’s eyes began to shut and how his hand shifted slightly, reaching towards him.

The moment Eddie’s eyes shut was the moment Buck went into overdrive. He pulled himself up. Buck could care less if there was a sniper somewhere.

Eddie needed him- he needed Eddie.

He dropped to his knees beside him, rolling Eddie onto his back. There was a patch of red against his face beside he had passed out face down in the pool of blood - the sight of him made Buck sick to his stomach.

“Eddie,” Buck patted his face, “Come on, wake up.” he calls and pulls the uniform shirt open. The hole was in his shoulder, his skin stained red.

Buck pulled him up towards him to feel behind his shoulder, trying to feel if there was an exit wound and there was - now it made sense as to why he bled out so fast.

It was just Eddie and Buck in the middle of the road. The truck parked to one side and the ambulances still in their spots. Buck holding and pressing on both sides of the wound would only do so much for Eddie.

He wasn’t a medic, he was trying his best and Buck's best was all Eddie had then because no one was coming.

No one moved an inch. Everyone was still hunkered down behind the trucks and the ambulances.

But then again, no one else loved Eddie the way Buck did.

“Eddie, come on.” Buck patted his face, the blood from his face smudging against the clean skin. “Eddie wake up, please” His voice broke at the end.

Maybe his best wasn’t enough.

He was getting in his head. He couldn’t do that, now wasn’t the time.

“Why are you all standing around?!” The change from sadness to anger was a quick one.

He knew Eddie wouldn't make it if he didn’t get some actual medical care. Then and only then did someone come running towards him. He didn’t know him but he was one of the paramedics on scene from before. The paramedic took over, Buck shifted to the other side of Eddie. His hand now stained red from the blood but he grabbed Eddie’s hand anyways.

Even if he wasn’t conscious, he needed him to know that he was there, that he had his back.

He watched as they loaded him onto the stretcher, moved him into the ambulance and he was there right by his side on the ride to the hospital.

The heavy feeling settling in his stomach, he was going to be sick. He didn’t feel like this when he found Maddie after Doug. He knew Maddie was gonna be okay although she was hurt but Eddie- he had lost so much blood, his skin was pale and the heart rate much slower than it should be.

Glancing down at his hand, Buck’s thumb rubbed gently over Eddie’s hand. He hadn’t let go except for when they lifted him onto the stretcher.

“Is that normal ?” eyes glued to the monitor, shifting down to the million and one wires attached to Eddie right now.

“He’s lost a lot of blood, his heart is just pumping slower than it would because of the lack of blood.”

In some way, Eddie looked peaceful.

Almost too peaceful.

The ambulance came to a stop, the doors opened and they began pulling the stretcher out. Buck follows them as they tell the doctor what happened.

The stretcher rolls into the surgery prep corridor, through the doors and Buck follows them in but no one seemed to notice that he wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Sir?” a nurse finally noticed him by the door as they removed the rest of the blood soaked clothes from Eddie.

“Sir?” they call once more, a hand gently touching his arm bringing him back to reality.

He turns, “you can’t be in here. We’ll take you to the waiting room.”

“No, no it’s- I know where it is.” he steps back from the room slowly just as they begin rolling the stretcher towards the OR.

There’s a phone ringing but Buck’s eyes are glued to Eddie. Soon enough he realizes it’s his phone.

There are splotches of red on the case from the splatters of blood that were everywhere. Everything on him was covered in blood.

“Hello ?”

“Buck, did you take the car?” Bobby’s voice rang through the phone.

“What?”

“You know, red one, says battalion 7 on the side ?” a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Oh uh- yeah sorry. I have to go get it” Buck had completely forgotten about the car, all his focus was on Eddie.

“Go get it? Where are you ?” Bobby’s voice is filled with concern and confusion.

“Hospital” he mumbles.

“Why?”

“Ed- Eddie was,” he let out a breath, “Eddie was shot. I um- I have to get the car, I’ll call you back.”

“No, Buck. Buck, listen to me- stay where you are. We’re on our way. Forget about the car.”

Before he could protest, Bobby hung up.

---

The waiting room was quiet, there was an older couple in there waiting for their grandbaby to arrive is what he deduced from their conversation.

“Buck?” Bobby called, he was first to step into the waiting room. Hen, Chimney and Maddie were following behind him.

Buck stood and turned to face them. The blood still splattered across his face, the red protruding against the white of the shirt. None of them knew that Buck was with Eddie, except for Chim but they hadn’t realized how close Eddie Buck must have been.

“Where is he?” Bobby asks, taking a seat beside the chair Buck was sitting in.

“Surgery, the nurse just came by and said it’ll be a little longer.”

Maddie pushes past Chimney, her arms open waiting for her little brother who on cue, falls into her arms. She held him as he sniffled, holding back the tears.

“It’s okay Buck, he’ll be okay.” Her hands lift his head from her shoulder, cupping his face. Her eyes studied him, his eyes red aside from the splatters- he had been crying before they showed up.

She knew her brother, she had taken care of him all her life.

“I know,” she gives him a sympathetic smile before Buck’s head falls back against her shoulder.

Maddie was there, she was holding him and Chimney was sitting across from them. “Where’s Jee?”

“With Mr and Mrs. Lee. Where’s Christopher ?”

“Chris.. Oh my god. Maddie, I-”

“Hey, it’s okay. I can call Carla and ask her to stay with him for the night”

“No, he’s-” Buck sniffled, “he’s with Eddie's grandmother. I- I don’t want to worry her”

“Let Carla pick him up, she can stay with him if she isn’t busy, okay ? If she is, I’ll go stay with him.”

“You’d do that ?” He asks, not that he was surprised because that’s who Maddie was- always helping someone but because she knew.

Maddie had always known Buck loved Eddie, more than in a friend way. Which friend helps the oher raise their kid ? Babysit him, have sleepovers, would go to the end of the earth for ? Not to mention when Buck told her about the first visit after the tsmanui with the whole “there’s nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you.”

They were in love with each other, they just haven't realized it yet or maybe they did, they just didn’t know what to say yet.

“You should be the one that’s here when he wakes up”

---

Over the next few hours, the waiting room thinned out. Chimney and Maddie left first, stopping to pick up Jee Yun from the Lees on the way home. Athena had a shift and she offered to call in and stay but Bobby said he’d call her with updates.

Bobby and Hen were the last 2 with Buck. Hen left shortly after Athena, she promised the kids to be home for dinner and said she’d be back in the morning to see Eddie.

And now it was just Bobby and Buck.

“Come on, let’s get you a clean shirt. If you're going to be the first one to see him when he gets out of surgery, a non-blood covered shirt would be nice.” He gets up, waiting for Buck to join him.

Bobby pulls Buck along with him to the gift shop in an attempt to find a shirt for him. Buck was following him around like a lost puppy, mopping as he went along. Bobby pulled a shirt from the rack. It was a bright pink shirt with bold bubble letters that read ‘it’s a girl!’ on it. Buck’s brows furrowed before shaking his head. Bobby let out a small chuckle before putting it back on the rack.

“One minute we were standing there, having a conversation and the next he was on the ground. I couldn’t do anything, I didn’t move, I couldn’t- I didn’t help him.” his voice breaking at the end of the sentence, his head tilted back looking up at the ceiling in hopes of getting rid of the tears now welling up in his eyes.

Not that Bobby hadn’t seen him emotional or crying but he felt like he needed to hold himself together because the little voice in the back of his head kept saying ‘that’s what Eddie would do.’

“Hey,” Bobby’s hand reaches out, holding Buck’s shoulder. “You did- you were the first one over there. You were by his side the whole way.”

He sniffles, the back of his hand coming up to wipe the falling tears away from his face. “I know but i just feel like I didn’t do enough, maybe if I reacted faster, if I just-”

“Hey, he’s alive Buck, because you reacted. So don’t, not even for a second, blame yourself for not getting over to him faster”

Buck nodded, he had always been grateful for Bobby and his guidance.

Bobby tossed a shirt at Buck, a blue one with the hospital logo - something for him to change into. Bobby stepped away when he got a call, Buck changed into the clean shirt. The two of them headed back towards the waiting room.

“I’ll be back in about an hour, I've got to take Harry to Michael and I’ll come right back. Will you be okay ?” Bobby’s hand rested on Buck’s shoulder once more. “Yeah, I’ll be here. Tell him I said hi”

There he was, alone in the hospital waiting room. He had never actually been in there off duty. He had always been on the other side of the doors, he was the one they were usually waiting for but not today.

Today he sat alone in the room, the terribly uncomfortable chair poking his side, the blinding effect of the white hospital lights.

There were so many things he wanted to say to Eddie. All things he had said before but it was his way of hoping that if he wished hard enough, Eddie would wake up and he would be able to tell him.

“You’re an amazing father.”

“One of the best firefighters i have ever met.”

“My best friend”

“The one I’m in love with.”

The realization of the fact that he was in love with Eddie hit him when he saw Eddie fall to the ground. Somewhere in him had always known but it hit him then and there. All the unsaid feelings and subtle moments of touches shared between them bubbled up the surface.

“Diaz ?” the doctor called, looking around to see if anyone was there. Buck stood, his hands wiping on his jeans.

“Yeah? Is he okay ?”

“There were some complications. The loss of blood was severe, we were able to stable him before removing the bullet which then revealed another bleeder. He crashed twice.” the doctor let out a sigh, the room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. He was bracing himself for bad news.

“We weren’t able to save him. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

The words rang through his head. He stood there, looking at the doctor- frozen once again.

Buck was sick to his stomach, the urge to puke was masked by the urge to cry and scream. There were so many emotions, he didn;t know how to feel or what to do.

All he knew was that Eddie wasn’t coming back.

His best friend.

The man he thought was the love of his life.

The thought of not being able to tell Eddie how he felt never crossed his mind until that moment.

He’d never get a chance to tell him he loves- loved him.

That was the moment the world crumbled.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #911 #911 fox #9-1-1 #9-1-1 fic #911 4x13 #911 spoilers #buddie #buddie fic #buck x eddie #edmundo diaz

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fakeloveaskblog · 3 years

Note

Janus, did you follow up with Remus on that invitation? Or are you too giddy with your new boyfriend?👀👀

(Words: 2578)

Janus: “Oh yes Remus....I had totally not forgotten because I have been too busy being giddy about Logan. Totally not. I am afraid if I meet up with Remus right now I will simply be so giddy with so much love I will actually explode and die on the spot. But that is a risk I am willing to take!

Janus took a deep breathe. This was the third deep breathe he’d taken in a row and yet he kept being just as nervous. He’d hung out with Remus twice already, simply knocking on his door shouldn’t be making him this anxious. It was stupid. He was stupid.

He gave up on trying to calm down and knocked on the door.

The door opened. His breath hitched and he subconsciously straightened his back to look more alright.

To his surprise it wasn’t Remus that opened. At first glance he could have mistaken it for him. The person- the woman opening looked nearly identical to him after all. Same dark brown hair color, same brown nearly red eyes seeming to pierce into his soul, even the same birthmark above their lip.

Only difference being that her hair was longer, reaching her waist, and she wasn’t as skinny, in turn making her figure more full.

“Who are you?” She asked in a cold tone, it sounded more like a snarl.

“Janus” He reached out his hand “I’m Janus”

She slammed the door shut.

Janus let out a sigh. He’d spent the entire bus ride worrying about how badly Remus would react to seeing him but wow this was even worse. He was just about to go home and sulk when the door swung open again.

“Okay come in” The woman said while dragging him into the living room.

“t-thank you” Janus stammered out.

His cheeks heated up when he locked eyes with Remus who was sitting on the sofa. His friend quickly glanced away and crossed his arms over his chest.

The sofa had been made into a makeshift bed and suitcases laid littered over the floor. The lady sat him down on the couch before slumping over in a newly bought fainting cough. She had on a red robe while Remus had on a pyjamas with an octopus pattern on.

“So my dear eh demented Remus I am here to inform you that there is a giant seamonster in my bathtub so I had to go somewhere else...And I happened to choose this place...for tactical battle reasons!” Janus blurted out.

A weight lifted off his shoulders when Remus shone up into a smile at his made up story. Janus couldn’t help but stare at his sharp teeth. He knew him being obsessed with vampires as a teenager would bite him in the neck one day.

“Want me to kill it?”

Janus looked up from his mouth “What? The uh monster?” He put on his usual charming smile “Well of course darling. You only have to be ready to be eaten to death”

“OH I am ALways ready to be eaten to death. Trust me!”

“He got voted most likely to have a cannibalism kink in 10th grade” The woman added on. She was extravagantly fanning herself with a deliciously decorated fan.

“I was!” Remus exclaimed with a proud smile.

“Who- Who are you?” Janus tried to say in the nicest tone possible.

“She’s my frankenstein monster which I created just to bitch around and annoy me” “Life saw what kind of fuck up he was and made me out of diamonds and a lion’s pride to be the better version of him!” They said at the same time.

They glanced at each other before looking back at Janus.

“She’s my twin” “He’s my twin” They continued on at the same time again.

The lightbulb inside Janus’ brain finally lit up “Oh you’re Rowan aren’t you? I have heard many atrocious tales about you”

“The one and only” She moved her arms into some sort of regal pose while saying it “I’ve heard stories of you too you pitiful Janus. Re-re has told me he hates you and finds you awfully boring but you seems so lonely and sad he doesn’t want to tell you!”

Remus’ eyes widened into panic as he shook his head “I never said that!! Lies!!! Defimation!!!!”

“Re-Re I was joking”

“Oh............ok”

He kept fiddling with his oversized shirt. He looked over at his sister while moving further away from Janus. Rowan nodded back at him.

“Sibling meeting!” She exclaimed as she abruptly stood up while dropping the fan. She grabbed onto Remus and dragged him into the bedroom.

Janus stayed with his hands awkwardly clasped between his thighs. He hadn’t known he would walk into his greatest weakness: Meeting new peopel!!!

He looked around the room and slowly realized that the suitcases weren’t even unpacked. Meaning Rowan must have just arrived. Meaning Janus had inserted himself into a sibling reunion.

Holy shit. He was a piece of shit.

He slumped down on the green covers of the makeshift sofa bed....wait....Remus’ stuffed octopus laid on the pillow. Meaning it was his bed.....so Rowan was using the bedroom.

It all clicked at once. The cheerful disney posters. The white fluffy pillows everywhere. The walls being painted gold and red. THE LESBIAN FLAG HANGING ON THE WALL.

This wasn’t Remus’ apartement. This was Rowan’s apartement which Remus had weasled himself into.

Holy shit. Janus wasn’t just a piece of shit. He was a stupid piece of shit. Remus was never going to love him back!!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH-

Meanwhile Remus was looking around in the heaps of dirty clothes and trash that had piled up in the bedroom while Rowan had been away. His sister was standing over him with her hands clasped in front of her chest.

“Soooo Re-Re do you have a cruuush on him?” She had an extremly smug smile on her face.

“I would rather eat a burning stone than have a crush” He muttered back.

“He’s not even pretty”

“Ro-Ro you don’t think any guy is pretty”

“That’s not true!” She disagreed. She began to count on her fingers. “Tarzan” That was it.

“He’s animated!”

“He still counts!”

Remus took a deep breathe “We shall savor this battle for another day and it shall be glorious”

“It sure will brother!” Rowan tightened her fist.

They made angry grimaces at each other for a few seconds before going back to being normal. Remus tried looking under the bed.

“He’s a total dork you realize that right? He isn’t good at hiding it either” She stated “So I guess he isn’t the worst guy to have a crush on”

“I don’t have a crush on him!”

She sent him another smug look “Oh really? I’m not so sure about that!”

“I’M NOT INTERESTED IN HIM!”

She held up her hands “Alright. Alright. I hear you”

Rowan patted him on the shoulder. He took a shaky breathe to calm down. He held up a binder. The reason he had been searching the bedroom in the first place.

“Could you help-”

“Yep”

“I don’t want him seeing me without it”

“Got it”

He took off his shirt and forced the binder down around his shoulders. Rowan made sure to only touch the binder as she pulled it down so it sat properly.

“I saw that my money has been getting sent to a therapist” Rowan said while leaning her chin on his shoulder “Proud of you”

“OHOHO It is not at all what you think it is. It’s as much therapy as you having that spiritual guide living here for a while was actually spiritual in any way and not you just your girlfriend”

She sighed “Still an idiot I see................ANd we did burn candles when we shared baths so it was really spiritual actually!!!”

Remus shrugged “I don’t need therapy anyway” She did a facepalm “Hey it’s true!! You let me live all on my own and look! I’m not dead in a ditch or addicted to ketamine or whatever you thought was gonna happen the moment you turned your back”

Rowan rolled her eyes “Sure dukey”

She went back out into the living room while he stayed to put on his shirt again. Janus sat still in nearly the exact same place they’d left him. As if he was afraid doing anything would ruin everything.

He looked at her with almost fear. It turned into definitive fear when Rowan walked up to him and grabbed onto him to shove his back against the couch. She towered over him and pierced her eyes right into his.

“Listen here you swept together ball of dirt” She snarled out “If you ever hurt my brother, in any way, I will make sure you have nightmares from what I did to you every single night for the rest of your miserable life! You’ll never feel peace ever again!”

Janus gulped “Yes ma’am”

Rowan let go of him and shone up into a smile “Good! If you need me I’ll be in my room putting on a face mask!”

She walked off at the same time Remus came back. Janus sat even stiller on the couch. His crush slumped down next to him and rolled his thumbs.

“So whatcha wanna do?” Rem asked.

Janus shook his head to relax “Whatever you want to do dear”

Remus shone up into a grin and dashed to pick something up “UNO!”

“Ah yes. I am of course a feared master of...uno”

He snorted while sorting the cards between his fingers “Please say that again”

“Uno?”

The snort turned into a laugh “It’s just cute to hear non spanish speakers saying uno. That’s your whole vibe. Cute. Dorky. Smart dumbass. You’re like...the decaying corpse of a chipmunk!”

Janus took a moment “.....thanks. Best compliment I’ve ever gotten”

“No problem! Now I’ll make up for it by beating you in uno!”

It was a heated battle. Remus apparently had incredibly luck in all card games. Janus used the technique of distraction (!) and started talking about obscure conspiracy theories. It failed as his crush already knew the conspiracies. Which then started an even more heated debate about which conspiracy was the best all while the battle of cards continued.

Finally it came down to Janus having 1 card and Remus having 2. The snake let out a villanous laugh. After his crush’s turn the victory would be his!

But then Remus laid the card equivalent of slapping him across the face with both a sword And a dick. He laid a skip card! Janus fell back on the couch in exasperated horror as his crush laid his last card.

“WOOHOO FUCKER! GET KICKED IN THE BALLS BITCHASS!!” Remus yelled while getting up and running a few victory laps around the couch.

Janus laid in stunned silence. few times had he been beated this good.

“I’ll destroy you in the next round” Jan shook his fist to be extra extra.

“Oh really now. You dare challenge the great Buttmaster420!? IN uNO? Truly brave” Remus replied with a cocky grin.

Another fierce match began. As did their conspiracy theory debate. 1 win for Janus. 1 for Remus. Somewhere along the line they made popcorn. A second win for the snake boy.

2 wins vs 2 wins. This was it. Remus looked his friend up and down like he was a comboy about to shoot him in the heart as he laid a pick up 4 cards card. Janus gasped. The tension in the air could be cut with a butter knife.

The final card landed. Remus won. Janus pretended to faint.

They shook hands and exchanged looks of respect before bursting out into laughter.

“Alright alright” Remus chuckled out “Snakey since I won I get to decide what we do next!”

“Please not a satanic ritual. I already have that planned for Monday”

“Oh nonono! Much better! Y’know those ghost hunting videos on youtube??? Yeah I love finding really badly made ones and laughing at them!”

“Ah yes, because if there is one thing I am known to do it is laugh at others”

They sat on opposite ends of the couch while Rem searched deeply after the best trash. He found a 15 minute one where they were apparently being chased by slenderman.

They exhanged jokes and giggles over it but to be honest most of what Janus focused on was just being in his crush’ apartement. He tried to sneakily look around to aww at the drawings and storyboards pinned onto the walls. The small sculptures made out of trash laying in droves on the floor. It all made his heart flutter. His entire body yearned to make out until his lips hurt.

Meanwhile Remus was sneaking looks at Janus. His eyes was filled with the ace equivalent of lust.

“...Can...Are...Can I use you as a pillow?” He quietly asked. “You look soft”

Janus’ cheeks went red from blushing in an instant “...sure”

Remus moved closer and carefully leaned his head onto his friend’s stomach. He hadn’t cuddled a person who wasn’t his sister for over a year. Holy shit. This was comfy!

“You’re very doughy!....THAt’s a compliment!” Remus said.

“You really are pulling out your A game compliments today huh”

“Better than pulling out my massive dick!! No but seriously this” He pointed at them both in their cuddly positions “fucks!”

“Oh trust me darling the last thing I am doing right now is fucking”

Remus burst out into a cackle and flapped his hands “You’re gold snakey!!”

“I try my best”

While they continued to watch videos Janus gently moved his hand down to stroke his fingers through his crush’s hair. At first Remus flinched but then he relaxed into it and told him to keep going.

The popcorn bowl got emptied. They laughed at the videos until their stomaches hurt. Remus playfully moved his hands up to cover his friend’s eyes every time a jumpscare happened. Jan pretended to try and bite his’ fingers every time.

Eventually Remus let out a yawn. For a moment he relaxed and cuddled closer. He even let his eyes close. Before he suddenly flinched. His eyes were wide open as he sat straight up.

“I’m tired. You should go” He choked out.

Janus thought before deciding to not question his strange reaction. He sent him a warm smile “You’re right. It’s late. I can text you about meeting up later”

“For sure!”

A silence hung around them as they went over to the entrance door. Remus leaned against the door frame. Janus took a step outside the apartement as he put his jacket on.

They glanced at each other. Neither said goodbye. Remus picked at his skin.

“...I....Janny...I...Okay this might seem weird with me wanting you to leave and most of the time not wanting you to touch me....But I...I kind of trust you... More than most people. I mean it’s rare for me to trust anyone in any way....so yeah...I just wanted you to know that”

Janus fumbled after what to say “Thank you. That’s- I’m flattered....I trust you too....I wouldn’t let you see me when I wasn’t perfect if I didn’t”

Remus smiled at him. A small but genuine smile. “I’ll see you then”

“Yeah” Janus’ chest warmed “Don’t die when I’m not looking!”

“Oh nonono. If I die I’ll make it so dramatic you won’t be able to miss it!” His voice softened “Stay safe..please”

#dukeceit #demus #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #mini fic

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achliegh · 3 years

Text

Sunflower

Epilogue Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

This is the epilogue to Olive and Otto

It will mostly be exploring the relationship the cubs have with O&O

There will also be a little storm chasing

TW/CW: Kids, Food, Storms, Smut, Sickness

@domesticatedbeetlenamedjorge

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

The two tallest of the bunch were getting ready while Olive was sitting on the couch next to her brother who was looking much better after sleeping for twenty hours. Olive was wearing the exact same thing as her dad, light jeans with white shirts, flannels under their company track jackets. Her hair was in two braids down her back that her dad did, she was also wearing Logan's snapback that was much too large for her but she was gonna miss him even if it was only for the night. Well, more like one evening.

Leo walks out of the master bedroom still wearing his thin wire framed glasses.

“Harzy, did you move my contracts again?”

“Nope, if I remember correctly you’re out until Monday.”

“What day even is today?”

“Thursday, mon solie” Logan shook his head, smiling a little as he watched them get ready, saying he was nervous about today felt right. Leo said the edge of the storm would be hitting Gryffindor but it shouldn’t be anything too crazy, plus he had Otto to keep him company. A sick child that loves storms, fuck he was screwed. He felt something rub against the back of his leg and smiled a little. When Olive ran off the other day she walked back out of those bushes holding a giant cat, it was the same size as her. She named it Ilya and since she named it they had to keep it. When they walked in the door with a giant mass of grey and white fur Leo just stared at them dumbfounded. ‘You let her pick up a stray cat! What if it's sick! What if it scratched her and gave her something!’ ‘Daddy her name is Ilya!’ He just blinked at them a couple of times and sighed before giving his boyfriends a pointed look. ‘You guys take care of all the things Ilya needs, including vet appointments.’ He shook his head, having the scowl melt off his face when Ilya trotted over to Otto and rubbed up against his hand purring, making a sleepy smile cross the young boy's face. “Hello Smelly” He smiles and picks up the fat cat walking towards the couch to sit next to the kids.

“Logan, are you gonna be okay?” Olive looks over to him from where her and Otto were playing fruit ninja on the table their mom got for them. “I don’t want you to be all scared”

“Of course I will be okay, I have Otto, non?” Otto leans into his side and sniffles a little nodding, God these two are so cute. He lets go of Ilya and settles herself on top of Otto's lap covering the whole thing. She purrs so loud they’re surprised she hasn’t knocked the apartment off its foundation. “So cute” He gives Otto a kiss on the top of his head and pet their ball of fur.

There was a buzz from the doorman downstairs letting them know someone was on their way up, Leo’s parents were there and Finn was getting jittery. He had never been inside of a storm like this but the visuals were supposedly amazing this time of year in Hufflepuff, sunflower fields were in full bloom and there shouldn’t be too much rain, but a tornado was almost guaranteed to drop. Finn was already feeling the adrenaline of seeing a tornado for the first time. Was it going to be beautiful or terrifying? What if it killed th-

“Finn!” He was engulfed into a tight hug as Eloise surprised him. The breath was forced out of him while Wyatt, who was holding Olive now, and Leo chatted away about how this evening would go. “Ready to get into a storm! I’m so happy you decided to come, but it’s okay if you want to stay here and keep Olive here. She will most likely stay in the motel room we use as homebase because it’s too easy to lose her out in the field. But she loves it anyway.” She ruffles his hair and he turns a little red.

“I’m nervous, not gonna lie, maybe I’ll stay with Olive in homebase then.” He smiles shyly and she laughs a little nodding. They walk over to join the other two who are discussing the large cat that has hidden Otto in its fluffy.

“Sure you don’t want to come, Tremz?” Wyatt smiles a calm one at him as Olive rests her head on her Pawpaw’s shoulder. “Maybe we could help break your fear of storms, we are family now.” Logan smiles at the feeling of being accepted into the Knut’s so easily.

“No thanks I’ll keep Otto and Ilya company.”

“Alright, we are gonna head out then.” Eloise leans down to kiss Otto’s head and Logan's cheek, then she remembers something. “I almost forgot.” She opens up her ridiculously large purse and pulls out three large books. “Photo Albums you asked for” Leo smiles and takes them giving his mom a kiss on each kiss and sets them on the coffee table. “Alright let’s go. By sweeties!” They all gave goodbye kisses and hugs as they walked out the door. Heading to Hufflepuff.

Otto yawns and looks up at Logan. “Tremz can we take a nap in your room?” He is barely able to keep his eyes open and his head is lightly nodding to one side. The smile it brings to Logan's face is one of being totally wrapped around this child's finger.

“Want me to carry you?” He sees the smallest little nod and stands up, scooping up the young boy and the cat, walking to the bedroom while feeling Otto’s forehead. He’s still a bit warm but not as bad as the last few days. Laying down the small boy he tucks him in and crawls under the cover on the other side. Ilya is between them on her back already snoring.

“Goodnight Logan, I love you” it was so quiet Logan almost missed it, that was the first time Otto had ever said that to either him or Finn, Olive had said it the first week of being there and all three older men got a little teary eyed in secret about it later. Logan's heart was vibrating in his chest and he felt himself smiling into the dark room.

“I love you too buddy”

Olive was bouncing in her carseat and like she does, talking a mile a minute.

“How long is the drive? Are we there? Will there be lightning? What about thunder? Daddy, can I have some water? Where's my snack? I don’t like frosted flakes!” She started throwing a fit over how she hasn't had Reese's puffs in weeks and Leo was trying to explain why they couldn’t have them in the house because of Otto's allergy. She started crying because ‘I don’t want him to die!’ and then Finn had to explain how he wasn’t gonna die right then and there. All the why the grandparents were giggling in the front seats.

After a two hour drive they pulled into the parking lot where many large dented up vans with camera equipment and radars are, there was a door to a motel room open on the ground floor that people were constantly going in and out of. Finn was getting nervous all over again, there were so many people and they would make so many assumptions.

“Don’t worry, they think Olive and Otto are my siblings and you’re my best friend.” Leo smiles at him as Olive just keeps on talking. “Olive, remember who I am around large groups of people.”

“Frère!” She smiles at him and kicks her legs a little. “Can we go now!” Leo unbuckles her and they get out of the truck. Everyone smiles and greets Leo like old friends. Finn is introduced to so many people he doesn’t have any chance of remembering. Walking into the motel room a large hairy man was sitting in front of four different computer screen his hair was up in a bun and his large beard was braided, his glasses were small and on the tip of his nose. “Hagrid!” Olive runs over to him and jumps in his lap startling him but then he smiles and hugs her.

“Hello little one, ‘owve you been.” He smiles and looks up. “Leo, haven’t seen you in a while mate, and I see you’ve brought a friend. NHL roommate I’m guessing.” Everything fell into place after that.

This was going to be okay, and maybe they won’t get ate by a tornado after all.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #sweater weather #coast to coast #o’knutzy #o'knutzy #lumosinlove

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oneletteredwondered · 4 years

Text

Unbroken

Sum: Reality can become what you dreamed of it.

Pair: Virgil/Remus, Dukexiety

Written for @dukexietyweek! Day 6: High School, continuation of my Day 2: Fairytales, you do not need to read that to understand this one at all.

Warnings: bullying, mentions of toxic parenting: physical abuse, alluded homophobia, nothing graphic or described in depth, swearing, kisses!!!!!!

The only reason Virgil doesn’t bang his head on the top of his locker is because he’s already looking down when he's shoved forward. The wind gets knocked out of him as his chest collides with the metal and his book drops from his hands. He glares over his shoulder at the responsible party.

“Watch it.” Remus growls at him and stalks off. Virgil continues to glare for a moment longer as Remus finds his friends and shoves them but far more friendly than he shoved Virgil. Virgil lets out a sigh and picks up his book, grimacing at the bent cover. He places it in his locker and closes the door to let his head rest against the cool metal.

“Are you alright Virgil?” He lifts his head at the question and offers a strained smile to Patton and Logan as they come closer.

“M’fine.” He says quickly. Patton pouts at him.

“Are you sure? That was a pretty rough-”

“I said I’m fine,” Virgil snaps and immediately winces. Luckily Patton just offers him a small smile in understanding. Logan is glaring over to where Remus is.

“Perhaps you should tell someone about his needless bullying of you.” He says. Virgil is already shaking his head before he finishes his sentence.

“Not worth it,” He says lowly. And really it’s not. Remus does far less to him than he could and he surely doesn’t believe the teachers could do anything to stop Remus should they want to.

“I do not understand why you put up with him,” Logan huffs but not unkindly. Virgil just shrugs and pulls his back pack up on his shoulder.

“Why do you put up with him?” Patton asks and the question feels like ice in Virgil's veins. He supposes he can tell them all about how Remus was his first and only friend for years until Remus one day told him he was weird and couldn't play with him any more. How all of Remus’s bright smiles turned to sneers and Virgil never really go to know why either. How sometimes if he catches Remus’s eye late at night across the dirt patch between their two homes Remus will wave sadly with just his fingers and so will his little brother Roman. He could tell them how part of him still hopes that the Remus he knew is still around somewhere lost in the pages of his childish writings.

“I don't know,” Virgil says instead, looking over at Remus and then back down immediately finding Remus already looking back at him.

“I don't know.” And they head to class without another word.

The air outside is calming so late at night. The rustle of trees in the distance provides the subtlest of white noise that has Virgil inhaling deep and calming down from his day. Not necessarily a difficult day, but Remus seemed more plucky, picking on him every chance instead of his usual every other chance. Virgil grit his teeth and bore it not knowing what else to do and not wanting to do what Logan suggests.

He made dinner for himself and saved the left overs in the fridge for when his momma gets home from another late shift. Now he’s just trying to enjoy the last of the day sitting in a field of grass and watching the stars and the whisps of clouds. His mind turns tales of the shapes he sees and tries to remember them all to write down later. Old habits die hard he suposses.

He’s nearly ready to go inside when he hears a crash from behind him. He twists in his spot to see the lights on in the house next door. Remus’s house. He’s frozen in his spot as he hears the yelling pick up. It’s muffled by the house but he knows it's angry and not good. Then the back door swings open harshly.

“I don’t fucking care!” Remus shouts and slams the door behind him so hard Virgil is surprised it’s still on it’s hinges. He remains frozen on the ground as Remus tears at his hair and stomps down the back porch steps and into the field. He walks right pass Virgil and farther out into the field where he stops, and screams.

Virgil winces at the noise, very aware how the lights next door are now off and there’s a good chance Remus is not going to be let back inside. It’s happened once before. He keeps still as Remus kicks up the dirt and grass around him, working out his frustrations and muttering incoherent nonsense to himself, when he looks up and locks eyes with Virgil in the grass. Virgil flinches on reflex.

All at once it seems the weight of the world is dropped on Remus's shoulders, his posture deflates and he looks barely held together and quite frankly ready to cry. Virgil has never really seen Remus cry, not in years at least. Something twists in his stomach at the thought of it.

Remus stalks towards him but not in the proud deviant way he would when he wants tp push Virgil around, more resigned to his fate. So instead of running like Virgil normally would in this instance like how his anxiety wants him to, he stays put. He does lean away though when Remus drops next to him, hikes his legs up, and buries his head in his arms.

The silence is somewhat deafening but knowing Remus isn't going to push him or try to hurt him, Virgil slowly stops leaning away from him. They sit in quiet under the cover of darkness, Virgil returning to looking at the stars and the moon and the clouds attempting to cover them.

“You can stay the night,” He offers quietly.

That’s when he hears the gasping inhale next to him.

Virgil looks to the side and sees the shake in Remus’s shoulders, the tremble in his entire body.

Why do you put up with him? Virgil hears Patton ask in his head and Virgil thinks this is why. Because he knows all of Remus’s actions are products of his home life and the way his dad controls him. Because he sees the guilt cross Remus’s face when he pushes Virgil a little too hard. Because Remus lets out a barely audible ‘I'm sorry’ and Virgil’s heart breaks.

He throws his arms around Remus and is somehow relieved when Remus uncurls to latch onto him in return. He shoves his face into Virgil’s jacket and muffles his cries in the fabric, holding onto Virgil like it’s the last thing holding him to the earth itself. Virgil clings back just as hard trying to convey some sort of stability. He’s not sure how long they stay like that, but at least until Remus sobbing has stopped and died out to small hiccups. Virgil refuses to be the first to pull away.

Eventually Remus does and Virgil stands, ignoring the wet spots on his shoulder to give Remus his hand to pull him up. Remus takes it and when he’s standing and following Virgil into the house he doesn’t let go. Virgil isn’t going to tell him to.

He leads Remus up the stairs to his room, turning on a small light in the corner, and leaving Remus in the doorway to go close his blinds decidedly, not wanting to take the chance of Remus’s dad looking in. He finds a oversized shirt and hands it to Remus wordlessly, looking away when Remus just rips off his old shirt without a care. He shrugs off his hoodie with a gross expression at the snot on the sleeves and puts in the laundry basket when Remus speaks.

“I’m sorry,” He mutters. Virgil carefully looks at him, noticing the slump of his body and the way Remus hangs his head.

“It’s okay I can wash it,” Virgil says and Remus shakes his head.

“No I’m.. I’m sorry.” Remus repeats and finally looks up. His eyes are rimmed red from crying. Virgil twists his hands together now getting the point of the apology.

“It’s okay. I mean. Mostly. I get it.” He stutters and Remus shakes his head at him and drops it again. There’s silence then, awkard and tense. Virgil can feel the tension crawling across his skin.

“Is it wrong to like you?” Remus asks bluntly and the tension rises.

“What?” Virgil chokes out. Remus grits his teeth and runs a hand hazardously through his hair.

“Dad just. Always said it was weird or bad and I didn’t. It didn’t feel bad or weird and- and he hit me once and-” Remus lets out a strangled noise as Virgil’s eyes widen. “And I did. I do. Like you and it's. I don't. Is it bad?” Remus snaps his eyes up to stare at Virgil, fresh tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Virgil can't very well breathe.

“I miss you.” Remus says softly and it’s like a dam breaks as he gasps and begins to cry again.

“I miss you so much. Fuck, you were my, are, my best friend and fuck I miss you. I miss you. I-” Remus drops to his knees, hands clawing at his face as he starts to sob again. Virgil doesn't waste anytime sliding to his knees and holding Remus close to him again, and once more Remus clings to him.

“I miss you so much. Fuck I’m so sorry.” Remus garbles out between his gasps. Virgil gently shushes him, forgivness already given in spades in his mind. He knew, knows, about why. He knows a part of him would have always forgiven Remus for this.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I got you,” Virgil whipsers to him and Remus presses farther into the comfort of his arms. Much sooner than before Remus stops crying, tilting his head to just rest on Virgil’s shoulder as Virgil runs his fingers through Remus’s hair soothingly.

“He said, he said he’d get your mom fired if didn’t stop being friends with you. I couldn’t. I didn’t know what else to do,” Remus admits lowly. Virgil’s blood boils for a moment. Ever since he was little people looked down on his mom for being a single parent not knowing she was taking him away from a household too similar to her own childhood, a place she did not want Virgil growing up in.

“And I didn’t want you to have to leave because your mom couldn't work and I wanted you to stay here so I just. I got so mean to you, and then Roman started to want to wear skirts and dad got meaner and I couldnt-” Remus gasps hard. “I didn't know what to do.”

Virgil holds him, holds him for all the missed out hugs they could have had, all the hours they could have spent together. They sit like that until Virgil’s leg gets stiff and he has to move. They sit criss cross on Virgil’s floor face to face with their knees pressed together. A million thoughts burn through Virgil’s head and a million questions he doesn’t know where to start to ask.

“Remus I-” and Remus kisses him hard enough Virgil almost falls over. His eyes widen and Remus pulls away with a 'pop' that would be comical if Remus didn't immediately look panicked and shove Virgil away from him and spin around to not face him.

“Shit,” Remus curses mostly to himself and smacks his head to his hand, resting his arm on his knee and looking defeated. Virgil blinks dumbly at him as a burst of anxious anticipation bubbles up inside him. He remembers this feeling from when a younger Remus used to kiss his cheek and promise to be his.

“Remus-”

“Don’t," Remus snaps but doesn't raise his head from it's dropped position.

“I can handle rejection but please. I can't handle it if you hate me. Hate me more," Remus lets out a bitter sounding scoff and Virgil scrunches up his nose.

“I don't hate you.” He breathes out and if Remus hears him he doesn’t react. He does react, his whole body tensing, when Virgil carefully slides closer to him and reaches out. His fingertips brush Remus’s cheek and Remus flinches back at the touch, finally looking at him, causing Virgil to wince. Still he continues and gently places his hand on Remus’s cheek. Remus leans into the touch, nearly crying again, and it shows Virgil how little Remus has ever received such gentle touches. He wants to give him so much more.

Slowly Virgil leans foward and kisses him far more softly than Remus did. He breathes slowly into the kiss and pulls back soundlessly and the sigh Remus lets out is the most relieved thing Virgil has ever heard. He keeps his hand on Remus’s face and swallows hard, Remus zeros in on the motion and stares at his neck.

“We uh, we have a lot to talk about,” Virgil manages to say. Remus nods minutly.

“Yeah,” He agrees but his eyes haven't left Virgil's neck, or his lips, and to be fair, Virgil is looking back at his in return.

“Can we-”

“Yeah, did you want-”

“Yeah.” This time they meet each other half way. Virgil leans forward a bit more to brace the hand not on Remus’s face on the floor while Remus brings a hand up to tangle in Virgil’s hair and tug at the strands. Some of the emotions Virgil never really knew how to place when thinking about Remus have an outlet and he feels settled knowing where it all belongs.

They kiss until their postions get too uncomfortable which is much sooner than either of them would like. This time it’s Remus who helps Virgil off the ground. Virgil makes sure the curtains are decidedly closed just to be sure and Remus flicks off the small lamp in the corner.

Remus takes his hands and he’s being pulled into another kiss. They curl their fingers together as they continue to test the waters of this new aspect ebtween them.

“We still need to talk about this,” Virgil says in a daze. Remus nods dumbly.

“Yeah of course,” He says and kisses Virgil again. Virgil finds himself smiling into the kiss at the antics. Eventually he does pull back and snorts a laugh when Remus whines.

He crawls into bed and holds the covers up for Remus to crawl in after him. They shift to get comfy, Remus circling both his arms around Virgil's torso and smushing his face into Virgil's chest, while Virgil’s arms go over Remus’s shoulders to hold him close.

They don't talk that night about their relationship or whatever they want to be. Just cuddle each other close and remember what it's like to be with the other. Remus cracks silly jokes and lights up when Virgil laughs, and when Remus yawns and rests on his chest, comfortable and okay, for Virgil, it feels just like a fairytale.

#dukexietyweek2020 #dukexiety #virgil Sanders #remus Sanders #fic #my post #homophobia tw #parental abuse tw

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crossiantgay · 3 years

Text

I Shall Say Goodbye Till It Be Morrow

Logince, fantasy AU! Pt 2 coming soon!

He looked out, over the balcony watching the sun set over the horizon. He was the prince; he was supposed to love his life. It has so turned out, that most days he had turned to envying the commoner. With his wealth and lavish lifestyle came the shackles of responsibility and no control over his future. The air was sticky and humid, and the setting sun gave the air a hazy glow. His light, white blouse ruffled in the wind and he felt his caramel hair brush against his face. He heard the steady beat of footsteps behind him and he turned. Everyone was supposed to head home, it was long past working hours. When he turned, he saw his pageboy, Logan (insert last name) approach. He had ditched his navy-blue suit for just his white button-up shirt, almost similar to Roman’s own shirt. He stepped next to Roman, leaning over the balcony.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it” His voice sounded distant and monotone, but still had the warm undertones Logan often had in his voice. It was only a few seconds later, Roman realized he was expecting an answer.

“Oh-yes. I suppose.” Roman drummed his fingers on the banister and Logan turned to him.

“Is something bothering you, my prince?” there was worry etched into his face, the concern all-so-subtly seeping into his voice. He sighed.

“Oh, it’s nothing. You know the princess of Lancaster?” Roman looked back out over the village below.

“The daughter of our known enemy? Why yes, I am fairly familiar with her” Roman licked his lips nervously. The summer heat was making his lips crack and blister and it was rather unpleasant.

“I am supposed to marry her in 3 months’ time”

“Oh-” Logan’s voice sounded hollow, like someone had pulled the floor out from underneath him but his expression stayed unreadable.

“And, to be honest?” Roman turned back to the man, waving one arm about. “I don’t even like women.” Logan quirked an eyebrow.

“This particular woman? Or-” Roman shook his head.

“All women. No princess has made my heart skip beats like a man with tousled hair and a well-trimmed suit.” Roman didn’t notice Logan unconsciously run a hand through his own hair.

“If I am to be… wholly honest with you, I have felt a similar way in recent months.” Logan tried to trace Roman’s gaze, find out exactly where he was looking. “I thought I was crazy. It’s great to know that I am not the only one who feels this way.” Roman gave him a small, uneasy smile. He paused and drew his lips in a thin line.

“Did you know that there is no law that forbids a man from marrying another man?”

“I-no. That is rather intriguing, thank you.” Logan gave a curt nod as silence passed between them, Roman draping his arms over the railing, unease clouding his mind.

“I’m headed for a future I don’t even want.” Logan’s expression softened into something sympathetic and caring before fixing his eyes on the horizon line. Logan carefully reached out his hand, putting it on Roman’s. To his surprise, Roman didn’t pull away but refused to meet his eyes. They stayed like that in comfortable silence as the sun set past the horizon line.

__________________

Roman waved his maid away.

“If you keep messing with my hair, it might fall out!” he ran his hands through his hair, fixing it to his liking.

“My apologies, your majesty. However, I believe you are ready!” Roman stood in front of the mirror, admiring the suit. It was a red suit jacket with gold fastenings and trim, with a white undershirt and black dress pants. His maid hurried behind him.

“Oh my! How could I forget the most important piece of all!” The maid delicately placed the gold, ruby and sapphire-studded crown atop his head. He straightened his posture and gave one glance back at himself before walking out to the ballroom. There was the drone of chatter along with the distant hum of classical music. He scanned the crowd for faces he recognized, only to find none. He made sure to keep distance from his father along with the princess, beelining it for the concessions. He stumbled into a few people, mutter half-hearted apologies, keeping his head down and his crown straight. Someone grabbed his arm and he jerked back.

“Well isn’t it Roman Cassanova!” He pulled his head up to look at whoever grabbed him, searching his memory for this person. They were clearly important, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no-

“..hey.” The person hit him hard on the back and he coughed, immediately talking his ear off. He zoned in and out of the conversation, trying to keepy up when amongst the rambling he heard ‘my daughter’ and something that sounded like ‘marriage’. His blood ran cold and he tried to say something, but what to say to your future father in law? His stomach churned at the thought. As if someone has answered his silent prayers, an arm looped around his waist.

“My highness, the king requires your attention immediately.” Roman recognised the voice immediately.

“Ah, yes. Thank you. I shall-have to attend to that as soon as possible” he blurted out as Logan tugged him away.

“ah, thank you. A tap on the shoulder would have sufficed” He said when he finally gained his footing, when they were out of earshot.

“Oh, please. You looked like dying cattle, I did you a favor.” Roman finally got a glance of his ‘knight in shining armor’ and his breath caught in his throat. To say he looked stunning was an understatement. He hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. Logan smirked.

“What was that, my prince?” In truth, it was hard to see without his signature glasses but his jawline and cheekbones and oh my I think I might faint- he finally gathered himself and rolled his eyes.

“I don’t believe that is how you should be talking to the future king” He stuck his chin up exaggeratedly and stuck out his tongue.

“Ah yes, real mature your majesty.” A waiter walked by and roman grabbed two glasses of wine from his tray, handing one to Logan.

“Are you sure? You’re not legal yet-” Roman waved a hand dismissively as he took a sip, shaking his head.

“I have what, 4 months ‘till my birthday? The marriage is in two months so- 5 months. Close enough.” Logan shook his head and took a sip, eyeing Roman carefully. A hush fell over the room as the orchestra picked up. Roman finished his drink and looked up at him, placing it on the passing waiter’s trays.

“Logan?” he batted his eyes and Logan stepped back.

“No. no- no.” He shook his head but Roman continued, offering out a hand.

“Logan, may I have this dance?” Logan sighed, taking his hand.

“Fine. You may.” Logan took his head and was caught off-guard when Logan placed a hand on the small of his back. It did make sense, considering Logan was the taller one but Roman wasn’t super familiar with the ladies’ part in this dance. Roman placed his hand on Logan’s shoulder and Logan smiled slightly. They fell into a steady rhythm of dancing and they moved across the ballroom, Roman temporarily forgetting everyone else existed. That was, until the song ended and Logan and him stayed holding onto each other. Roman stumbled back when someone tapped him on the shoulder, and he felt the world crashing down around him as he realized it was the princess. Logan dropped Roman and Roman wanted to mourn the warmth, but knew where his priorities stood. He pretended the touch was just him reaching for Logan’s drink, because that was clearly the case, totally, and downed it in seconds. It was only right after he did so, that he realized Logan had not had champagne like he had, rather a much stronger liquor. The room spun around him.

“Uh-hi” he said, trying to get his eyes to focus on the subject in front of him.

“Hello, I assume you recognise me?” Her eyes flicked uncertainly to Logan, who stepped away.

“Yes, I do. You are Bella Lancaster, yes?” Roman needed to get out of here, and fast. He felt as if any moment the floor would fall out from under him.

“I am. And you are Roman Cassanova.”

“Yes.”

“Yes.” She fiddled with the sleeve of her glove. “Fantastic. Okay. Yes” She looked off, as well. Though why he couldn’t tell. “I must go check on my-- my father” She smiled a bit and walked off and Roman made sure to count his lucky stars.

“You should go.” Roman spun around and immediately regretted it, falling into Logan’s arms.

“nOoO” Roman said, a bit too loudly, turning heads around them. Logan clamped a hand on his mouth before pulling away quickly.

“Ew! Why did you lick me?” Logan said in a hushed voice, wrinkling his nose and wiping his hand on his pants.

“Be lucky it was your hand this time, mi amor.” Roman said, clearly losing it and Logan flushed a glorious shade of scarlet. Roman had lost all sense of filter, something that was definitely required as a prince.

“Maybe we should take you to bed,” Logan said, looking out at the numerous people staring at them.

“Mhmm, bed, I like the sound of that” He purred and Logan sighed.

“You are drunk off your ass and not thinking straight. You need to get out of here before you make a scene” Roman huffed, leaning more into Logan.

“Whatever you say..” he grumbled. “Your majesty…” his tone turned softer and his eyes fixed on something behind Logan.

“N-no. Let’s go” He gripped Roman’s hand, in less of a handhold but more of a means to tug him along. Roman pouted the whole way as Logan did his best to discreetly tug him out of the ballroom, which went both well and not. Luckily, they avoided the king’s eyes but caught the likes of many onlookers, as Logan assured them that princey here had just had a bit too much. Once they were out of sight, Logan scooped Roman up in his arms and raced up the steps.

“Woahhh” Roman giggled, with a case of the hiccups “You’re strongggg” Once they had made it to prince’s chambers, Logan set Roman down and unlocked the door with surprising ease. Roman stumbled into the room, pulling Logan in by his jacket.

“Roman!-” With one final tug, he pulled Logan onto the bed.

“You thought I was done with you? Not even close” Logan felt his once-gone blush returning as the prince fiddled with the fasteners on his jacket.

“Nope nope nope nope nope-” Logan sat up quickly, pulling the prince’s hands from his jacket, running his thumbs over the scarred knuckles.

“You’re intoxicated and about to do something you’ll regret.” He looked him in the eyes and Roman looked away.

“But I want this-no- I want you.” Logan’s expression softened.

“Darling, the wedding’s in a couple months. I don’t want to make anything harder for you.” A choked sob ripped its way out of Roman’s throat and Logan pulled him closer. Roman tucked his head in the crook of his neck.

“I never wan-” He gasped, trying to catch his breath as more tears rolled down his cheeks. “I never wanted this! Th-these responsibilities a-and arranged marriages a-and-” Logan shushed him gently.

“It’s okay. I’m right here, you’re okay.” Roman looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks and uncertain eyes. Logan pressed a kiss to his forehead that lingered for a bit too long, breath ghosting over the skin. He pressed another kiss, this time to cheek, before another and another and another, touching every inch of exposed skin they could find as Roman’s mind went foggy, too overwhelmed by this absolutely wonderful sensation to even think. He feels a semblance of pressure at the back of his head, where Logan has his fingers threaded into Roman’s caramel locks, barely tethered there by the hand on his waist as Logan pulls his head up, looking at Roman with half-lidded eyes.

“What about ‘not making anything harder for me?’” Roman says, a playful smirk evident on his face.

“If you’ll allow me to indulge in a bit of selfishness, your majesty” Logan finally utters, his voice so much richer than Roman remembers; like the distant rumble of storm clouds.

“Yes,” Roman says, barely a whisper. “Please, yes” With that phrase, Logan captures Roman’s lips in a deep kiss, eyes fluttering shut despite himself. Roman blindly grasps for something to pull Logan closer, something to anchor him in this moment.

________________________

Loud footsteps can be heard from outside as Logan, who has been awake for about 3 and a half whole minutes, shakes Roman awake.

“Huh? Who-” Roman groans as his suit uncomfortably pinches at his sides, very obviously not meant for sleepwear. Logan pointed towards the door and Roman noticed the heavy footsteps, which could only mean one thing. He looked to his side, about to urge Logan to hide only to find Logan was already under the bed, hidden by the maroon bedskirt. Roman sat up, trying to make himself look as presentable as possible as his father burst into the room.

“Morning, son!” He bellowed and Roman winced, becoming acutely aware of his hangover. Roman blinked slowly, trying to wake himself up.

“You look a little out of sorts. Get yourself ready and come downstairs! I hope you haven’t forgotten about our Day Of The Sun banquet?” Roman’s eyes went wide as he cursed himself. It was the summer solstice; where for the whole day a large party would be held across the kingdom. The festivities last night were just a precursor to that and this was definitely not the day to have a huge hangover and your assistant in your bed. Wait, how did Logan get here? His memory stopped after his talk with the princess.

“Well see you down there, then…” The king trailed off, noticing his son staring at the wall and the look of distant fear in his eyes. He walked out, shutting the door behind him. Logan crawled out from underneath the bed, brushing himself off and laying beside Roman.

“We should get ready,” Logan mused, taking in the prince once more.

“What happened, exactly?” Roman asked tentatively and Logan’s cheeks went dark red.

“Uhm, we kissed…” Logan said, avoiding Roman’s eyes and Roman blushed a similar color, envying the red curtains hanging in front of his windows. He, Prince Roman, heir to the throne of Cassanova, has kissed his assistant of 7 years. With his awaiting marriage in two months’ time.

“Oh my” he whispered and Logan smiled at the remark.

“Mm. Now we really should get ready, my rose-er, highness.” Logan stood up quickly and Roman shook his head.

“‘My rose’ sounds better. Less formal.”

“Noted.” He nodded a bit, trying to ignore the pinkish color of his cheeks. He paused for a moment. “I should get ready. Well, you too. We should get ready.” Logan gave a curt nod. Roman laughed a bit under his breath and stood up. He took Logan’s face in one hand and kissed it.

“I suppose we shall,” he flipped through his closet, looking for something light enough in the summer heat. He finally found another white blouse, frowning a bit as he put it on.

“My hi-my rose-” Logan buried his face in his hands, looking between the gaps in his fingers and Roman shrugged. Logan went back to his chambers to change, Roman changing into black shorts. Finally, he grudgingly placed the crown atop his head. Everything he had grown to loathe incarnated into some dingy piece of jewelry. Logan returned a few minutes later, thankfully this time with his glasses, with a white button-up shirt unconsciously unbuttoned at the top and black suspenders. His black hair was messy and fluffy due to the humidity. Roman blushed when he saw Logan, stammering. Logan let out a puff of air, snickering.

“You look lovely, my rose” he offered out his hand and Roman took it.

“As do you, my love” he smiled as Logan placed a kiss to his forehead.

“We should head downstairs,” Logan chided gently and Roman paused.

“Just a few more minutes. I enjoy being here with you”

______________________

The festivities were long underway, Roman hovering by Logan’s side the whole time as they talked with the common folk, eating all the delectable foods the carts outside the castle had to offer and embracing the enticing atmosphere. When the sun was just past halfway in the sky, one of the servants approached them.

“Sir Logan, your family requests your attention immediately.” Logan’s brow furrowed as Roman held his hand tightly.

“They live on the other side of the Alabaster River, why do they call for me- they know I have my responsibilities here-”

“Your mother has fallen ill” the servant bowed and Logan’s blood ran cold. He nodded, shifting closer to Roman. He gave a curt nod, leaning over to whisper in Roman’s ear.

“A week from now, meet me outside the city of Eastview at sunset.” Logan stepped away and Roman frowned, hurrying to the nearest carriage.

________________________

Roman stood at the edge of his balcony, overlooking the edge to the drop below. It had been a week since Logan’s mysterious absence, and of course it took the King no time to appoint another in his position, a short and snooty page with a shrill voice who always insisted Roman was wrong, constantly babying him. Roman threw the rope over the edge of the balcony, double, triple-knotting it to the banister. With shaky hands, he slowly began his descent. He felt like fainting when he finally felt dirt beneath his feet, in all fairness climbing rope was not his area of expertise. He shook himself off before running to the stable, shushing the horses and grabbing one of them before making his departure from the kingdom.

After many uncomfortable minutes riding on horseback, he finally made it to Alogas, which was right next to Eastview. He was almost there. He looked worriedly as the sun started to set. He couldn’t be late. He couldn’t.

He finally made it to the border of Eastview, and his eyes lit up as he saw a tall, black-haired man in the distance. His smile only grew as Logan came more into view, in a wrinkled light-blue shirt and dirt smudged on his cheeks. He skidded to a stop and jumped off the horse, running into Logan’s open arms. They stayed there for what felt like an eternity, just enjoying the other’s embrace, Logan placing countless kisses to Roman’s head and Roman burying his face in Logan’s shoulder.

“I missed you, my rose” He mumbled. It had only been a week, but Logan was always at his side so it felt like it had been months.

“I missed you too, my love. Palace life has been near awful without you; have you seen who they hired to fill in?” Roman rolled his eyes and Logan chuckled. He placed a hand on Logan’s chest but when he did, his brow furrowed. He tugged at Logan’s shirt, tracing his hand across the scabbed-over gash. Logan took his hand in Roman’s, pulling it off the cut.

“It’s fine. Just an unlucky accident.” Logan assured him. Roman didn’t seem satisfied.

“Did someone hurt you?” Roman asked, anger seeping into his voice.

“No, my love, it was my own fault. I hurt myself while farming.” Roman looked up at him.

“Farming?” Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, my punishment for getting fired by the king’s court.” He ran a hand through his hair. When he looked back down, he saw the alarm in Roman’s eyes.

“Wha-how were you-” Logan wrapped an arm around Roman’s waist.

“Someone at the ball saw us, and ratted me out to the king. Next thing you know, I’m fired and a direct message from the king to stay away from you. My parents nearly ripped a new one when they found out. So, 8 hours a day out in the field.” Logan sighed, caging his disdain at the incident. He looked down and met Roman’s eyes, recognizing his concern. He rubbed circles in Roman’s shoulders, looking Roman in the eyes.

“Oh no, my rose, it’s ok. We’ll get this sorted out, I assure you.” Logan tried to reassure him. Roman nodded slowly, looking at the ground. In truth, he looked miserable.

“Plus, now I don’t have to look over my shoulder to do this,” He leaned down and captured Roman’s lips in a kiss, Roman’s cheeks dotting a beautiful crimson. He trailed the kisses down his cheek, further, down the slope of his neck, soaking in Roman’s murmurs of praise and small laughs, fingers entangled in Logan’s raven-black hair. He finally pulled away, leaving a few love bites but nothing prominent, taking Roman’s hand.

“I’ve known where you’ve grown up for most of my life, can I show you where I grew up?” There was a questioning look in Logan’s eyes and Roman nodded, brushing shoulders with Logan.

“I’d love to.” He smiled, pressing another kiss to Roman’s cheek.

“Let’s escape to this town for a little while” They walked together, watching the setting sun.

________________________

When they got to the more busy section of the town, Roman went to drop Logan’s hand but Logan held on more firmly.

“It’s fine, my rose. No one cares who you’re with as long as you can pay your bill” Logan’s eyes scanned over the crowd. Roman pressed closer to Logan’s side, Logan wrapping his other arm around Roman’s shoulder. They went from shop to shop, walking around the town.

“Would you like to grab dinner?” Logan asked when he saw Roman eyeing one of the bakeries. He nodded a bit too frantically, a chuckle escaping Logan.

“That would be… adequate,” Roman said, looking at Logan sheepishly. “I didn’t have dinner before I went to see you”

“Dear gods,” Logan murmured under his breath. Logan walked over to one of the shops, Roman staying close behind. After a few moments, he handed roman a boar-and-cheese sandwich. He covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing as Roman practically devoured it, licking his lips.

“What about manners? I thought you were a prince” Logan teased and Roman huffed, sticking his tongue out. Logan rolled his eyes playfully. He held Roman’s hand once again as Roman pulled him along, towards the local animal pen to see the deer and sheep, probably.

The end of the night came all-too quickly as Logan carefully eyed the sky. If he was correct, it was probably around 11 or so.

“Roman, as much as I hate to say it, you should be heading home.” Logan said, drawing closer to where they first met.

“No, it’s too soon. I don’t know if I can go without seeing you.” Roman turned to Logan, a pleading look in his eyes. Logan bit his lip.

“We can tryst again, same time next week. How does that sound?’ Logan held both of Roman’s hands, gazing into those dark, chocolate eyes. Roman nodded, if a bit hesitant.

“Promise?”

“Promise”

________________________

“What is bothering you? I know that look,” Logan said, looking deep into Roman’s eyes, as if he looked hard enough, what was bothering him would be written, clear as day. Roman folded his hands in his lap, mouth twisting into a grimace.

It had been another excruciating week without Logan when Roman slipped out to meet his lover again. Lover, he thought. It has a nice ring to it. Roman got off of his horse to fall into those strong arms of Logan’s , all doubt leaving his body. They were so secure, so comforting.

“Logan, take me somewhere we can be alone?” Roman asked, looking as the townsfolk hurried about. Logan nodded, walking away from the town towards the woods on the edge of the eastern side of town. Roman followed in Logan’s footsteps, never letting go of his hand as Logan led him to a small lake. Next to the lake was an old oak tree with a swing attached to it. Before Roman could think, Logan scooped Roman up in his arms and set Roman on the swing. Roman looked down, kicking off his shoes with euphoria bubbling inside him.

“Ready?” He asked, arms looping around Roman’s waist. Roman nodded. Logan smiled, slowly pulling the wing back before pushing him forward. Roman couldn’t bite back the giggle that escaped his throat, happiness flooding inside him. They fell into a gentle rhythm of pushing and pulling, Roman’s laughter echoing around the forest. Eventually, the swing stilled into a stop and Roman scooched over, Logan sitting beside him.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts virgil #ts logan #romantic logince #logince

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scenecipriano · 3 years

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Curse of The Fold (2)

Chapter Two: The Witch of The Woods

Description: The year was 1692, a time where women, children, and men feared for their lives of possibly being accused of witchcraft. Two men though, don’t allow this mass hysteria to come between them. Even though the madness Janus and Roman manage to keep their relationship a secret…That is until the summer of 1692.“The only thing that could hurt us. Is the curse of the fold.”

Characters: Patton Sanders, Roman Sanders, Remus Sanders, Janus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, and Thomas Sanders

Relationships: Roman/Janus

TW: Unsympathetic Patton, Unsympathetic Remus, major character death, death by hanging, death by fire, executions, witch trials.

Other(s): Based on Salem Witch Trials and not fully historically accurate.

Chapter TW: murder, fire, mentions of drowning, child death mention, executions mentioned

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February 15th, 1692 Salem Massachusetts

It took everything within Janus to keep his composure, once he’s sure he’s far away from Roman, Janus lets out the breath he was holding in. What was he thinking? Conversing with a townsman like that? After what they’ve put him through… Well, Janus supposes he can’t fully blame Roman for what happened eight years ago.

‘ Smoke fills the starry autumn sky, Janus wasn’t sure what to expect, maybe his parents had just built a bonfire, maybe his mother accidentally burned supper again, there were so many possibilities but this wasn’t one of them.

A startled gasp falls from Janus’ mouth as he stares on in horror as his family home burns, screams could be heard from the inside. Janus wants to run towards the flames, but the gaggle of men that surrounded the small cottage held him back.

The men hooted and hollered as they clank their mugs of beer together, taking in big gulps.

“That’ll teach them no good bone witches to show their faces around here,” one of them slurs.

Janus feels his heartache, all because of something these fools could not understand his parents were condemned to die in a horrible blaze.’

Janus shakes his head and breathes deeply, that was the past, this is now. He’s gonna keep his parent’s memories alive by living. Even if that means hiding out in these woods until the threat of witch hunts dies down.

He sighs and grimaces down at his grimey looking shirt, “Shame that my bath was ruined, I’ll go back tomorrow and try to clean up then, couldn’t risk Roman possibly getting the idea of drowning me.”

Janus hates being scared of the possibility of being killed, the people within the town weren’t open-minded to people like him. Witches weren’t real, or perhaps they are and the idiots in the town choose to go after the people with a unique charm to them.

Like with his parents, the drunks that killed them called them bone witches, Janus wasn’t even sure what a ‘bone witch’ even did. All his parents ever done was use animal bones in order to make medicines to sell in the next town over, something that Janus himself picked up after their deaths.

He has to make money somehow in order to live off of more than just berries, nuts, and the occasional rabbit.

Janus sighs as he drags his hand over the dying blueberry bushes that were scattered all around these woods.

“Such a shame that even the prettiest of flowers perish in the coldest of winters… Just like all of those poor souls who met their end by the rope,” he mumbles as he strokes a browning leaf.

Janus remembers watching the first two executions go down, the poor girls were as young as seventeen and even four-years-old. He had to force himself to look away once the stump that held them up was yanked from under their feet.

Janus shakes his head and looks up into the sky, “Is this what you planned for us? To murder each other only because a handful of people decided to claim they saw one of their brethren with your least favorite child? Because if it was, that is just cruel of you.”

He sighs and continues his trek, Janus knows that it wasn’t God’s fault, but he needed someone to blame, someone other than that idiotic townsfolk that had no idea what they were doing.

Familiar scorched land comes up as Janus continues to walk, maybe if he would just move closer to town instead of staying on the burnt remains of his childhood home, things would be better for him. That was a huge maybe, but Janus wasn’t going to risk it.

Standing on the land that used to hold a two-bedroom cottage, now holds a one-bedroom cottage that Janus built from his own two hands at the age of sixteen. It wasn’t perfect, the ceiling sloped and the floors weren’t even remotely straight, but it was something Janus could and would always call home.

Janus smiles when he’s greeted with a soft mew from above, he looks up and sees the tabby cat that came to him last year lounging on a low hanging branch.

“Why, hello there Astrid. Keeping an eye on the place, hm?” Janus asks as he reaches up to scratch behind the cat’s ear, he chuckles as she leans into the touch.

Somehow, Astrid made him think of Roman. The way the taller man’s face grew red with every light-hearted jab Janus made, or the way his eyes lit up when Janus pressed a kiss to his hand.

Perhaps some of the townsmen weren’t so bad…

“I suppose I could give them another try… what do you think, Astrid?”

Astrid meows loudly before jumping down, landing on Janus’ left shoulder. She nuzzles her head against his mop of strawberry blonde hair.

Janus chuckles and continues to make his way into his home, “I agree… I believe Salem needs a visit from the ole’ ‘Witch in the woods,’ it’s been a while.”

‘ I might even be able to run into Roman again… We’ll leave it up for the fates to decide.’

---------

A/N: I’m not sure if I wanna update this one Sundays, or update on Sundays and Fridays- let me know what ya’ll think ^.^

~TAGLIST~ @imma-potatoo

#sanders sides #janus sanders #roman sanders #pre-roceit #tw fire #tw death #tw murder #tw child death mention #tw executions mentioned #tw drowning mentioned #tw unsympathetic patton #tw unsympathetic remus #let me know if I need to tag anything else

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codevassie · 3 years

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a heart he couldn’t control (destined to love and hate and damn forever) Part 7

CV: You know when you're smelling candles and you smell so many candles that you can't tell which ones smell good or bad anymore? Let's just say I don't know what this chapter is. There's a lot of words. And a lot of important things happen in it. And I've gone a bit insane trying to make it. Hope you enjoy <3

CW: Kidnapping, Guilt, Historical Discussions of Prejudice, Mentions of Death, Unreality, Weapons

@winterwynd @escalatingtoofast

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

When Remus was little, nothing but a scoundrel on the streets, orphan, alone but his brother and a hyper-defiant attitude, he never used to dream.

Each morning, Roman would wake and recount a world better than their present–where a wealthy family came to town and adopted them; where they grew up and ran a bakery together, with all the bread and cookies they'd ever desire; where Remus didn't have to hide his magic; where Roman didn't get ganged up on in alleys.

Where they had… more than this.

Dreams kept Roman going, and, in a way, it kept Remus going too, hearing his brother tell all these magnificent stories–all while Roman wasn't even awake to imagine them. A lot of them didn't even make sense, but those were Remus' favorites. He loved hearing the impossible ones–ones where you walk out the door of your house and you fall into the river, or dive out the window and fly into the sky.

Remus never got any of his own, or if he did, he never remembered–until he lived in the caves, at least.

His first week waking in his new “home” was plagued by nightmares. Virgil told him it had to do with the magic running freely through the caves. Out there in the towns, among the regular people, magic was obsolete, dried out like a desert. In the caves it was everywhere. Where before Remus’ head was dry, it could weave worlds upon worlds with a bit of magic.

Dee thought something similar. He said Remus had been repressing his magic in order to hide it. However, now that he was in the caves, it was still difficult to access. The magic was blocked up like a dam, and that caused his psyche to go into turmoil.

The witch, on the other hand, thought they might be visions. That hadn't gone over well.

They never were visions–not that they could make out. Not once did Remus dream of anything that had once or would be true. So in the present day, as Remus went to sleep on the fifth night Roman had been gone, he didn't worry too much when he realized he'd walked into a nightmare.

That, really, should have been what tipped him off. Remus never had lucid dreams, and while he couldn't control a thing in this one, his mind knew well enough this wasn't his reality.

Remus walked along a corridor in the castle, one that he didn't recognize very well. In his hands he held a long sleeve of parchment, marked all over in different types of ink and at least five different hand-writings. Gripping the edges of the paper, he noticed his fingers were bedecked in rings with heavy jewels and, on the thumb, a large crest. His hands were wide and aged, and paler than usual. His shoulders were heavier, but his mind felt lighter. Remus wasn't Remus in this dream.

Strange. He still knew he was Remus, but that’s not what his voice or body understood.

The man–whoever Remus was–sighed and rolled up the parchment restlessly. He bopped the paper to the side of his leg, looking about the hallway and to a room a couple paces off. The closer he drew, the easier his shoulders relaxed. No sound came from the room, and that nurtured something content in the man’s chest.

Until, that is, he rounded the corner and through the doorway.

It was a nursery, from what Remus could tell. An ornate crib stood at the center of one wall, a carousel of horses hanging like wind chimes above. The room was dark, lit only by the blue light of the night, shining in easily from the wide open windows. The rug was soft and plush, fit for a baby to crawl safely, and there was a shelf of toys and books in the corner.

Something felt wrong. Remus didn’t know what it was, but going by his sudden gasp, the man did.

He rushed into the room, going to the cradle first. It lay empty. His heart dropped, abandoned down a well like a draw bucket without a string. There was a noise behind him, and he spun.

There, closer to the bookshelf, was a bundle of hair and fabric. When she looked up, the king bolted over, heart again in his chest, but pounding, hammering a painful dent into his ribcage.

“Yolanda? My love,” he said, kneeling by her side and taking her into his arms. “What is the matter? Where is Janus?”

Yolanda? Remus wondered, tilting his head in thought. The head in his dream remained unmoved. Janus?

The names seemed familiar, but Remus couldn’t remember- He was so tired of not remembering.

“She took-” the woman panted, barely able to get her words out before a coughing fit seized her. The man helped her to sit up, eased her into a position to aide her air passage. The man said nothing, kept an appearance of calm and reassurance, but he was scared to death. Remus could feel it.

The woman was crying. She was sobbing as she tried to get her voice to work, grasping at her throat. “Easy,” the man said softly. “Easy, Landa.” But she couldn’t stop crying. Finally, the man had to ask. “Please. Where is our boy?”

The woman, Yolanda, breathed once, body shaking fiercely. “He’s gone,” she whispered, the sound of a broken woman. Remus didn’t know what was happening, but his own heart stopped. Something unthinkable had happened here.

“Guards! Guards!” the man turned his head to yell out the door, raising minutely away in the moment.

But the woman was already shaking her head. “It won’t help. She took him hours ago. I couldn’t- I couldn’t move-”

The man placed a hand to her shoulder again. There were no sounds of rattling armor. The castle was silent.

This should have never happened. Where was everyone?

“Where? We must know which way to send the men. I will go with them – I have to go with them,” the man rambled. The woman clutched his arm, beckoned him to look at her. She wept, but her eyes were fierce, commanding.

“You must find him,” she said.

Remus felt the man’s eyebrows furrow. “I will.”

“She will pay for this,” she said, voice shaking in barely restrained anger. “She took my baby.”

“Where did she go?” the ringed man asked.

The woman’s eyes vacantly moved across the room to the blowing curtains at the balcony window. The man followed her gaze, frowning.

“She scaled the tower,” he said, voice terrified. His son… this kidnapper had put him in so much danger already.

“No,” the woman said. “She appeared. And then… disappeared.”

The man looked back, expression puzzled. Before he could ask, however, her gaze met his, eyes dark and disheveled hair barely concealing her fiery look.

“She had magic.”

Suddenly, the room went dark. Remus felt his body jolt, and he blinked, head whipping around, back and forth, back and forth. Black spots danced before his eyes as they grew accustomed to the pitch black room around him.

He was no longer in the man’s body. He had woken up. But he was no longer in his room either.

Remus was in the nursery from his dream. It was dustier. The curtains were drawn, and looked to have been that way for a long time. But it was unmistakable. Virtually nothing had changed in the room. And now that he was awake, he understood where he was.

He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself, shutting his eyes.

There was still so much he didn’t understand.

-/-

If they’d thought the library was difficult, then Logan’s house was a whole other challenge. The place was a library in itself.

Roman had been thumbing through volume after volume all night, trying to pinpoint something that might point to Virgil or this ‘Dee’ guy. They were looking for anything at this point, and that made the search even more difficult. If only they’d had something a bit more specific, something to go off of.

He was planted at the coffee table, hunched over and trying not to think about the crick that was forming along his spine. He flipped a page, squinting to understand what it was saying through the fog in his brain and the dim candlelight.

Earlier, Patton had cast a light to illuminate the room a bit better, but after hours of tireless research, it had gone out. Patton had gone home a while ago, hinting pretty strongly that he expected Roman to follow. Roman hadn’t, and that meant he had no Patton to recast it.

Roman vaguely heard someone walk into the room. In his periphery he saw a figure lower itself to the floor across the table. “My prince,” it said in an even voice. Roman blinked up at the man, clearing his vision of letters and misshapen words he could no longer understand.

“Oh, hey Logan,” he said, giving a tired smile. He’d never seen the man out of a tie. He was in a t-shirt and some pajama pants, eyes soft and still behind his glasses. It was funny seeing him so calm after the stress he’d been under earlier.

“Have you found anything?” Logan asked kindly. Odd, Roman rarely heard emotion in the man’s voice. Logan didn’t seem like the type to slow down his thought process enough to implement it.

But Roman just shrugged. “It’s a bit hard to figure out what he meant,” he said. They’d come to Logan’s house assuming he’d know the exact book Virgil had meant. Turned out Logan was just as clueless as they were.

Actually, more so. Logan hadn’t even known Virgil was gone.

Logan knocked his glasses askew in an attempt to rub his eyes, giving a small sigh. Roman noticed there was still tension in his shoulders–the same tension that had grown there after they’d explained everything.

“Hey,” Roman spoke up, too tired to put himself under any kind of filter. Earlier he’d left all of this up to Patton, afraid to screw it up. Comforting was more in Patton’s capabilities anyway. Now Roman just couldn’t keep himself back. “I know you’re worried about Virgil, but you should get some rest.”

Logan adjusted his glasses, putting them back in place as he scrutinized Roman. In a moment Roman was wriggling in place, regretting his decision to be open, but then Logan let out a breath that somewhat resembled a chuckle, shaking his head.

“Funny,” he said. “I came out here to tell you the same thing.”

Roman stared for a second then cracked a smile. “That is funny,” he said, too tired to say anything clever.

“Roman,” Logan said, voice a bit more somber. Roman looked back to him and took note of his frown. His hand hovered over the book in front of him protectively. “We all want to help him, but we can’t if we exhaust ourselves.”

“I’m not exhausting myself,” Roman said, shaking his head. “I work nights all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s not healthy,” Logan said. “Your body needs rest to function properly.”

Roman looked back down at the book. “I’ll rest when we’ve gotten Virgil back,” Roman muttered, trying not to come off too irked. Logan was just trying to help.

“I know this is likely not something you want to hear,” Logan put a hand over the page Roman was trying to make out, “But we may not get Virgil back for some time. Things like this take time.”

“Then I’ll work night and day to make it happen,” Roman said, head snapping up with a scowl. His blood was boiling for some reason–the same as it had been when he’d talked to Patton in the library.

“Neglecting yourself will not bring Virgil back any faster,” Logan said, his own voice tighter now too. Unlike Patton, he would match Roman in intensity rather than try to soothe it. “In fact,” Logan carried on, “It would rather slow it down.”

“You don’t know that,” Roman said, heart speeding up at the thought. He couldn’t rest. Not when Virgil needed help. The more he tried, the faster it would help–it had to.

“Then tell me, are you actually absorbing anything you’ve been reading for the past hour?” Logan asked.

Roman pulled the book back from him, holding it close to his chest. “Yeah, of course!” he said, voice defensive.

“What is it you’re reading then?” Logan asked. Roman stopped, thinking for a moment. “I’ve read all these books, Roman. I know what that one is about too. So tell me; what is it about?”

“Give me a moment!” Roman argued, trying to grasp something, anything that he remembered. Was this the one on the northern regions or the fiction story about wolves? Roman had lost track.

“Roman,” Logan said, drawing his attention back. Logan sighed, something too close to pity crossing his features for Roman’s comfort. He shifted, clutching the volume tighter and looked on almost in fear as Logan opened his mouth. “Did you notice the inscription at the front of that one?”

Roman furrowed his brow, pulling the book away from his chest. No, no he hadn’t noticed an inscription. Setting it back down on the table, he flipped to the front, keeping a hand on his page to not lose his place. On the title page, he found it.

Logan,

I don’t know if you remember, but this was the first book you lent me. That copy was a library book, so I thought you might like your own. I know you own the library and all, but I hope you like it.

Virgil

Roman was frozen, eyes going again and again over the words. The letters were in small, cramped script, but he could tell it was carefully written. He hovered over Virgil’s name with the pad of his index finger, holding his breath. A part of him felt it would flake apart just at his touch.

“Virgil gave you this,” he said at last, glancing up to Logan’s face. There was sorrow there if you could look between the lines. He had sobered up from his exhaustion, placing a mask of emotionlessness on, but Roman could see it like a reflection. “Do you think this is it? Is this the book?”

To Roman’s disappointment, Logan shook his head. “I doubt it. He could have simply gone to the one in the library. It would be a lot easier than borrowing this one from me.”

“What if there’s something hidden in this one specifically?” Roman asked, desperate at this point. He felt so close, yet Logan didn’t look convinced at all. Could nothing be easy? Couldn’t Roman just do this one thing right?

“If there is, then I doubt you’d find it as tired as you are. It would have been very cleverly hidden considering I’ve reread that particular volume many times throughout the years.”

Roman furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Is it that good?”

“Not particularly,” Logan said. Something soft flashed across his face as he gazed at the volume Roman held so possessively. “It’s mostly for sentimentality’s sake, I suppose.”

Roman looked again at the book, at the inscription. “Oh,” he said, understanding.

“Virgil is like family, you see,” Logan said. “I’ve known him for years, so when I accept that I need rest in order to help him, it is not me giving up on him. I am not standing by while he is back there. I am simply doing what is in my power to get him back. As long as I am healthy, I will be at my full power to figure out a solution to get him back. Do you understand?”

Logan said this like it was a challenge, like he was daring Roman to argue with him on this, and Roman realized that he had given Logan the wrong idea completely.

“Of course!” he said, eyes wide. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant I needed to do this. Of course you’re helping Virgil. Of course you deserve rest.”

Logan folded his hands on the table, leaned forward to look Roman dead in the eyes. “Then why not you, Roman?”

Roman’s heart rate picked up. He leaned back, eyes darting around as he suddenly wanted nothing more than to avoid eye contact. “I just need to keep going. It’s different.”

“Why is it different?” Logan asked. “Why do you need to keep going? Why do you need to push yourself and hurt yourself to try to help Virgil?”

Roman frowned, eyes going back to Logan. “I’m not hurting myself.”

“You are,” Logan said. Roman’s hands turned into fists, but not from anger. From confusion. From something a little too close to vulnerability.

His voice went lower. Roman’s eyes bored into the table. “It’s just different.”

“Different how?”

His hand drifted above the inscription, but he didn’t touch it. Roman couldn’t bring himself to. He was unworthy.

“I’m the reason,” he said. He was greeted with silence, but he couldn’t look up. Couldn’t look Logan in the eye. Roman and Patton had already told Logan the full story. He knew it was Roman’s fault this had all happened, but Logan hadn’t actually said anything to the prince about it yet. Patton had forgiven him, but Patton had always been too nice for his own good. Logan surely wouldn’t be so forgiving. “Why should I get to rest when every second he’s there, anything that witch is doing to him, it’s all my fault?”

“You… feel responsible,” Logan said, as if it was only now that it had occurred to him.

“Of course I feel responsible. I made that deal,” he said.

“The deal that she pretty much forced you to make,” Logan said. “That deal?”

“I still made the deal , Logan,” Roman said, imploring the man to understand. Logan was smart. He should get this. “I knew someone would suffer for it. I knew someone I would come to care for would suffer for it.”

Logan squinted at him, one moment confused and another looking older beyond his years. He seemed both weary and wary as he examined Roman, and the prince shifted in place at the attention.

“What?” he finally asked.

“How do you shoulder the weight of a country while so prone to guilt on things out of your control?”

“I’m sorry ?” Roman asked, aghast.

Logan shook his head, resting it on his hands where he’d propped them up on the table. “I’m sorry,” he said in return. “I just mean, you must have had to make tough decisions before. Nothing is cut and dry in politics.”

“I-” Roman’s eyes shifted around again, refusing to make contact as he came up with an answer. “I mean, yeah . Doesn’t mean I’m not responsible for those either.”

“You’re responsible for the well-being of your nation, but all decisions have unforeseeable outcomes. Surely you cannot carry guilt for each and every one.”

Roman frowned, unsure if he should be taking offense. “Why shouldn’t I? Are you saying I don’t care about my people?”

But Logan shook his head. “That is simply not in question here. You can care for your people while maintaining a healthy understanding for things that are in and out of your control.”

“But those decisions were in my control,” Roman said.

“And how are you to predict every repercussion?” Logan asked. “The best strategist in the world couldn’t predict every outcome. While decisions are in your control, repercussions often are not."

"So what? Am I just supposed to throw the hat in? Eh, didn't realize my actions would have consequences so I might as well just ignore it."

"No, Roman." Roman stopped when Logan's voice came out firm, curt. "Of course you try to fix it, but you do not punish yourself either. You let yourself eat. You let yourself sleep. You forgive yourself for a bad or wrong decision, or you recognize that a witch manipulated you into making it . That decision wasn't even your own, Roman! Yes, in the end you made it, but you had a figurative sword to your throat!"

For a moment all Roman could do was stare. He had never seen Logan talk so passionately before. He'd never seen so many emotions on the man. He was kind of in awe.

Then Logan took in a deep breath. He straightened himself, but the tension in his voice did not fade. "The only one here to blame is that witch. She took Virgil. She hurt him enough that when he ran away he wouldn't leave Patton's house for two months out of fear she'd find him and cast layers of wards for years following. She took your brother, and from what you've told me, hurt him beyond imagine. She took that other boy who has been with her this whole time, and I do not want to think of the pain she must have inflicted on him. You are not at fault for any of this. She is."

"I- I-" Roman stuttered, not quite sure what he wanted to say. What he could say.

He still felt terrible. He still felt a crushing guilt inside, ready to tear in with its claws and teeth any time he was ready to think too hard on it. But everything Logan said made sense. There was nothing Roman could say to refute it.

So all he could say was, "...okay."

Logan looked him deep in the eyes, and Roman felt seen like he'd never been seen before. Not by people who had seen him in the streets, everything he was and everything he owned laid before them. Not in front of the millions in their kingdom on his coronation day, feeling inadequate but ready–ready to take on this duty, ready to serve his people.

Logan looked at him now, and Roman knew he could see every thought. He knew Roman still hurt. He knew Roman couldn't quite shake it all off, and Logan knew that Roman believed him too.

It was the witch's fault. Roman believed that. But there was a tiny part of his mind that wouldn't stop insisting it was his fault too.

But Roman also couldn't find flaw in this logic. Logan could see that too.

Logan nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "Bed then?"

Roman blinked, startled by the sudden shift in attitude and priority. He looked back to the book, to the inscription.

"It will still be here tomorrow," Logan reminded him. "And you'll be literate enough to read it too."

Roman threw him a scowl. "I'm literate!"

"Not at this time of night," Logan scoffed, rolling his eyes. He had gone back to that emotionless facade, but now that Roman had seen more emotion from Logan than ever before, he could pick up on more now. Logan was joking, a mirth hidden in his eyes.

Roman cracked a smile. "Fine. I concede."

"Good. The guest bedroom is this way," Logan waved to the hallway that branched off from the living room. Roman blinked.

"I can go back to Patton's," he offered.

Logan just rolled his eyes. "It's late, Roman. Take the bed."

"Okay," he said and got up. They walked together, and he stopped at the door Logan gestured to. He stood at it for a moment, watching as Logan continued on down the hall. As the man reached for the handle for the next door down, Roman called, "Um, thank you."

Logan looked up, then nodded. "Goodnight, my prince."

When Logan closed the door behind him, Roman was left alone in the hall, realizing Logan, who had never called him by his name at the park construction site, had used it their entire conversation.

"Huh," he said before turning to his own room.

He was faced again with the realization that these years of isolation had cost him some potentially great friends.

Roman hoped he could amend that.

-/-

Remus looked around when he awoke in his dream. It felt a lot more familiar than the last one. In this one he felt like himself. But not himself himself. A different self.

This self wasn't from too long ago, but it was still definitely a different Remus. He felt a whole lot more awake. Funny, as he was actually asleep right now.

"Wait wait wait," a familiar voice reached him from around the corner. "You said brother?"

Remus knew him. How come he knew him? Dang, not another memory. It was so close. So so close.

"Okay so-"

He felt his feet walk as if of their own accord. He turned the corner, and there they were. The purple one–what was his name?–and his brother. Remus always knew his brother. Roman.

"It is you," he said, but the words weren't his. They were the other Remus'. He said it, and dreaming Remus didn't know what it meant.

He remembered this vaguely, but it was all so fuzzy.

"Wait, do you know each other?"

" Remus ? What- How-"

Remus knew this one. It wasn't too long ago he'd seen this- lived this- what was it? What was happening?

"It's too late," other Remus mumbled, the words so familiar in his mouth. "It was a trap."

“A trap? What do you mean? A trap for who? Who’s trapping?”

“Remus, what the fuck? How are you here? How did you get away?”

Remus heard the words, he heard the voices, but he couldn't focus on where they were coming from. Who was this? Remus knew this man.

“Get away?”

“What about Dee?”

“Dee…”

It wasn't Remus who had spoken, but he perked up at the name. He knew Dee. He remembered Dee.

“It’s too late,” he said instead, ignoring the wonderful name. “Of course it was you.”

Then, the room erupted into chaos.

Remus jolted awake. His head hit the floor and he was left staring at the ceiling.

He didn't recognize this ceiling.

Slowly, he sat up. He looked around, taking in shelves, books, a cart pushed into a corner.

What was he doing in a library?

-/-

When Roman blinked awake, the light leaking through the curtains was strong. He sat bolt upright, blinking away his disorientation and pulling the curtains back. Sure enough, the sun was high in the sky, almost midday already. With a strong intake of breath, Roman leapt out of bed and stumbled his way to the guest room door.

He limped out towards the living room, fighting to keep the emerging guilt at bay. He and Logan had just talked about that last night–could he not keep it together for two minutes? Roman shook his head, stopping in the hallway to recuperate before revealing his rumpled form.

There were low voices coming from the living room, a small laugh and the shuffle of papers. When he finally turned the corner, he caught sight of both Patton and Logan, already scouring over books pulled from Logan’s shelves.

Patton was the first to catch sight of him, and he smiled. “Roman! Good morning!”

“More like afternoon,” Roman said, approaching. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

“We thought you could use the sleep,” Patton shrugged, picking up another volume and flipping through it. “Besides, I went to bed a whole lot earlier than you two. I figured I’d get a headstart.”

Roman turned to Logan, trying to keep the frown off his face. “How long have you been up then?”

Logan straightened, adjusting his glasses. “I work on a very strict circadian rhythm. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep more in any case.”

At this Roman did frown. He wasn’t an idiot; he could tell when someone was keeping things from him. But he could let it go. Whatever time Logan got up–it wasn’t a big deal. Just more time he’d been spending looking for Virgil. A responsibility that should have rested with Roman.

Roman pushed that thought back. That wasn’t right; he had to remember that. He wasn’t responsible for this. Roman wasn’t the guilty party. He wasn’t.

He repeated it like a mantra in his head.

He wasn’t the guilty party. He wasn’t. He wasn’t he wasn’t he wasn’t.

But he was going to make this right.

“Okay,” he nodded, sitting down at the coffee table again, fingers digging into the carpet. “Well, I’m fully rested now. Let’s do this.”

“Want some breakfast, kiddo?” Patton asked, already standing up. “Logan and I already had coffee, but nothing else really. I think I might make eggs for everyone.”

Suddenly, Roman was torn. He looked at the books, could see the one from last night at the corner of the table, the one with the inscription, then he looked back. He bit his lip. “Can I help with breakfast, Pat?”

Patton laughed, and it wasn’t his normal polite chuckle. It was something amused. He found something Roman did funny.

“I can see how you’re eyeing up those books. No sweat; I’ve got this. You might want to change into something that’s not a day-old though,” Patton said. Roman looked down at himself. He’d been borrowing clothes from Patton for the past few days, but he wasn't at Patton’s anymore.

“Follow me, Roman,” Logan stood, placing the volume he’d been perusing to the side. “We can find something that will work from my things.”

The morning continued in this domestic sort of haze. At Patton’s house it had been cozy–warm and welcoming–yet there was something so different in Logan’s. Before Roman had always been busy, on his feet, trying to do what needed to be done always.

And that was how it had been at the palace too, hadn’t it? And before–in his old village, on the move to find Remus. Roman had never slowed down. He was always on the go, always looking for ways to do better.

Roman had… never had something like this.

Slow. Comfortable.

The house was warm. The living room was well-lived in–the shelves riddled in books, candles, pictures; the coffee table had a coffee ring seared into its wooden surface; there was a blanket thrown over the back of the couch.

When Patton–lovely, lovely Patton–brought him coffee, it was in a mug labeled “#1 Architect.” The drink tasted slightly bitter–nothing like the palace’s coffee–but somehow, it was the best he’d ever had. So much so that Roman took a moment to simply revel in it, sit back on the couch and forget about the books, about everything else, and close his eyes to the taste.

He could hear singing in the kitchen. Patton had a lovely voice, and it was lower than he would have thought. There was another that joined it, however. He could barely hear it–wouldn’t have if he hadn’t taken this moment, just listened–but it was Logan’s. Through Patton’s slightly louder notes and the clings of utensils and bowls, Logan sang as well.

And throughout the day, that warmth never left. They flipped through books, but the tension from yesterday and all the days past had left. Patton said it was like a study group, but Roman didn’t really know anything about those. He’d started school when he’d arrived at the palace, and his tutoring was always one-on-one.

What he learned though, was that ‘study group’ was sitting around together, talking through different books, asking questions, joking to keep the air light and motivation up. It was passing around food, telling each other to take a break, leaning over to laugh at a funny picture or read over each others’ shoulders.

It wasn’t like that every day. Some days were somber, confronted with the low likelihood of finding what they needed, of finding anything. Some days Patton and Logan had to go to work, leaving Roman alone to his thoughts and pages. Some days Roman couldn’t move past his guilt, couldn’t think of anything but reading the night away because surely he had to be close. It had to be the next page, the next book.

They had to be close to the truth.

But who knew if the truth would help Virgil at all?

This was barely a lead, barely anything. It was a stray note Virgil had left on his desk that had loads of other incomprehensible items and a vague title, alluding something to his brother. They could find the book and not even know it was it. They could have past it already, dismissing it as nothing relevant. Or Virgil could have found a book he thought Dee might like, and it truly wasn’t anything at all to their search.

They could be going in circles. And they’d been searching for weeks.

Roman had scoured the pages of the book Virgil had given Logan to no avail. At night when they had all decided to retire until morning, he would bring the book to bed with him and read the story. He would try to see Virgil in it, try to pick out why Virgil had taken a liking to it in particular. Maybe it was sentimentality for him too, just like Logan.

He couldn’t tell. But Roman had to know.

One particular day, Roman picked up a book he had been dreading. It was a simple history text, dating back to the kingdom’s creation two centuries ago. It looked much like the ones the castle kept on hand–like the ones Roman had been forced to absorb in a week in his rapid tutoring. Reading two centuries worth of history in dense text had possibly been the worst part of his preparations to become prince–especially as he had still been learning to read at the time.

The thought made him dizzy. He frowned, looking up from the volume and realized his head was rushing, his vision spotting in places. He held to the couch and blinked. For a moment, he felt really sick–head light and stomach heavy and halfway between the floor and the toilet as his next destination.

Then it was gone.

Roman blinked again. No spots.

He frowned down at the book. “Maybe I have been overworking…” he mumbled.

He shook himself and sighed. No use resting now.

With a sigh Roman pulled it open, looking first to the table of contents. Perhaps he could start somewhere entertaining.

Two and a half hours later and Roman was ready to stab himself in each eye with a rusty fork. Logan and Patton walked in from work, looking weary, and he took the wonderful opportunity to take a break.

“You’re home!” he cheered. “Welcome back! And how was work?”

“Shelby is still trying to schedule a meeting with you through the castle,” Logan said, hanging up his bag.

Roman slowed as they approached him, sagging a bit where he sat. “Oh.”

“You really should check in with the palace soon, Ro,” Patton said casually. They’d had this conversation enough times where it wasn’t a big deal. Still, every time it made Roman feel like he was swallowing rocks.

“I will,” he promised, not for the first time. After we get Virgil back , his mind insisted, but he thought again of his brother, his people.

You’re letting down everyone.

“What are you reading?” Logan asked, walking closer to take a peek. Roman looked back at the book, feeling a tiny bit relieved to change the subject.

“This boring history book,” Roman lamented, sagging back into the sofa. “Do we even know Virgil borrowed this one? I can’t imagine anyone actually choosing to read it.”

Logan looked over the volume then nodded his head. “He definitely read that one. Actually, that was a more recent read. He was fascinated by its candor on the history of magic within the kingdom.”

“Magic?” Roman asked, brow furrowing. He hadn’t come across anything about magic.

“Yes. Where are you? Oh, you seem to have a couple more decades until it gets into that. You may want to skip ahead–this war is rather trifling,” Logan said, pointing to the page. Roman agreed. The war was really kind of stupid.

Roman leaned forward again, grabbing the book. He flipped forward, past the war–a three month endeavor–into reconstruction of the eastern lands and amendment of trade policies. He almost sighed again. Out of the fire and into another fire.

“Here.” Logan took the book and flipped forward himself, skipping a rather large chunk in the middle. Roman looked on, baffled and altogether so so grateful for this man. When Logan got where he wanted, he handed it back.

“This is where you will want to start. Magic wasn’t thought of as out of the ordinary until about fifty years ago. It became ostracized as a result of a dispute with Ilmita, whose population has a significantly higher proportion of sorcerers. Sorcerer eventually became synonymous with Ilmitian. Our people became more and more prejudiced against Ilmitians during the dispute, and being a sorcerer became rather taboo in our kingdom.”

“Taboo?” Roman asked, now intrigued. This was a part of their history he’d never learned about. He remembered the dispute with Ilmita, but none of that lesson had covered it relating to magic. “Magic is outlawed. I wouldn’t say that’s just taboo.”

Logan sat down next to him, flipping again through the pages of the book. “At first it was just taboo. Sorcerers were treated horribly in the kingdom. They couldn’t get jobs or housing. They were physically driven out of certain towns. Many chose to hide who they were even when it was legal.” When he came to rest on one page, he jabbed a finger at it as if to illustrate a point. Roman couldn’t make out what was so important about the page though. It was just another wall of text.

“Tensions heightened throughout the years, but it was here,” Logan pointed at the book again, a year, “Nineteen years ago when they banned all magic from the kingdom. After what happened to the prince, the unease in the kingdom finally came to a breaking point. The king and queen instated the new law: magic was illegal by penalty of death. Many fled to Ilmita. Many hid their powers. Many were sent to prison and executed.”

Roman sat still, eyes wide on the book before them. How had he never known any of this before? How could they have kept this from him? That was so awful. Those were their citizens–uprooted from their homes, forced to live as someone they weren’t, without a vital part of themselves. So many of his citizens, put to death for this.

“What happened to the prince?” Roman finally asked.

Everyone knew about the prince. He had only been a baby when he’d died. It was a tragedy that no one spoke of in the palace.

But Roman didn’t know anything about it. That baby was technically his adopted brother, and Roman knew nothing of him.

Logan flipped another page, and on this one they were faced with a portrait. It was the same one from the office Remus had taken him to that one time. Roman had barely gotten a good look at it.

“It is said that a sorcerer broke into the castle one night, went straight to the prince’s room,” Logan said. Something lodged in Roman’s throat suddenly. As curious as he was, he suddenly wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear. But then Logan said something Roman hadn’t been expecting at all. “The sorcerer fled with the prince, stole him. All the queen knew about the kidnapper is that they had magic.”

“Wait,” Roman stopped, looking away from the portrait to Logan. “What? You’re saying the baby was still alive?”

Logan furrowed his brow. “Yes, of course. The young prince was kidnapped.”

“I thought he’d died,” Roman blurted out. “You’re telling me he could be alive out there somewhere?”

“Of course,” Logan said. “Did they not tell you this? I assumed as the new prince…”

“No,” Roman said, shaking his head. He looked down at the picture. “They didn’t tell me any of this.”

As Logan’s finger moved away from the book, Roman caught sight of a caption below the portrait. He pulled the book closer to him, moving to read it.

“King Xavier, Queen Yolanda, and Prince Janus,” he read off. Roman knew those names. He said them practically daily–he had never called the king or queen “mother and father” or “mom and dad” or anything close to casual. They were the king and queen, and perhaps they were his parents, perhaps they had taken him in, treated him well, smiled warmly on him and spent holidays with him, but Roman had never taken to calling them anything else.

What stood out was the prince’s name, so rarely seen, even rarer spoken within the palace walls. The little baby, stolen in the night. His birthmark would make him obvious to anyone who saw him, even grown up.

Roman shook the thought from his head. His long lost… “brother” could wait.

“He was interested in the history of magic in this book,” Roman said. “Could this have to do with what Virgil was looking for?”

“I don’t know, Roman,” Logan said, sighing, His shoulders slumped minutely, but Roman could spot a change in his demeanor far better throughout the weeks they’d been working on this. “It could be. The facts of the matter are we don’t have enough information to go off of.”

Roman looked back to the portrait, dejected. He supposed Logan was right.

He couldn’t help but feel like they were close to something here though. Like they were barely missing it.

Prince Janus’ eyes were green, barely peeking up above the blanket he was swaddled in. He must have been old enough for his eye color to come in. How old was he when he’d been taken? What had the sorcerer done to him? What did they want with him?

Barely missing something…

Just then, however, Roman was stirred from his thoughts by the sound of a knock. Both he and Logan looked up. Patton emerged from the kitchen to stare as well, them all frozen in place.

Roman was careful to keep his voice low as he asked, “Are you expecting anyone?”

In his periphery he saw Logan shake his head. He heard him swallow thickly before he responded, voice unsettled.

“No.”

-/-

When Remus awoke in yet another dream, he wasn’t in a foriegn body, nor was he in a different self. This time Remus felt unbound, invisible to the mortal eye, broken from his reality.

Remus was used to feeling apart from reality. He never quite got what was going on around him, and there was always something he was trying to remember, always something just out of reach. He never felt like he belonged. Not in the streets he’d grown up in. Not in the caves where they’d said he’d had a home. Not in this new place where the window was his only friend and his brother covered his beautiful green colors when they said hello.

In this dream Remus was no one else, but he also wasn’t himself. He was above it all. An all-seeing eye. He stretched out an arm and it passed through the table to his right. He swung his leg and it didn’t stir the air.

He couldn’t do anything – even now that he had control of his body in one of these dreams. It seemed a bit unfair.

But he’d always just been an observer here.

“You can put it over there,” a voice resounded throughout the room. At first, there was no one there. Remus scanned the small space once, twice, but on his third go something suddenly shifted. It was like another reality had flipped into this one – like the pages of a book. A figure now stood in the middle of the room, bent over one of the tables and straightening a stack of papers.

Remus knew him. He squinted, hard, trying to piece him into the right memory. The man turned to place the stack on one of the many shelves that surrounded the room, all piled high in papers and vouchers and binders. Along the opposite wall were tables with pens and paper and random assortments of books. There was an empty cart in the corner. It was cramped, but organized – like some sort of office space.

“Here?” another voice asked, hidden away towards the back of the room. The original man looked back, a small smile gracing his features as he did so.

The man nodded. “Yeah, that’s good, Ro.” He went back to his organization, and after a moment, the man who was hidden emerged. Remus perked up when he saw him, realizing he’d known that voice – realizing where he knew this other man too. He was there last time with him and Roman, in that library.

He still couldn’t put a name to him, but Remus knew him.

Roman walked to stand at the other side of the table, taking the other man in with a lopsided smile. He pulled a chair over and sat down, placing his head in his hands and continued looking, stars in his eyes. “Hey,” he said, voice dripping with fondness.

The other man looked, a blush immediately coloring his face when he saw Roman. His eyes jolted back down to the papers, and he coughed behind a hand. “Hey,” he replied, and Remus could hear it in his voice that he was trying to sound casual.

Roman blinked, probably picking up on the man’s tone too. He looked down, a deep red covering his face as well, and pulled over a pen to fidget with. Slowly, suddenly replicating the other’s voice, he tried for casual too. “How are you?”

The man bit his lip and quicked a glance back to Roman. As his eyes fell again on the papers, he pushed them aside and picked up a pile of vouchers, thumbing through and every now and again, flipping one in the stack. “Alright,” he said, lifting one shoulder. “You?”

“Doing good, doing good,” Roman said conversationally, nodding.

The man lifted his head, for a second looking as though he wanted to say something. His eyes raked over Roman, brow furrowing minutely, but in the next second it was gone. He shook his head and went back to work. “That’s good.”

Roman looked up, and, feeling his gaze, the other man did too. For a moment they just looked at one another, eyes saying more than Remus could follow. They both smiled, barely the tilt of lips, but warm, something more.

Remus felt like he was barging in on something that wasn’t for him.

And with that thought, the scene turned to black. As it faded away, Remus felt the familiar jolt that signaled he had woken up somewhere new.

With a sigh he sat up to face the strange office room. He clenched his fist and thought of his room.

When he felt the plush feel of a comforter beneath him, Remus fell back against the bed, not even giving the teleportation a second thought before he drifted back to sleep.

-/-

Roman’s thoughts were on the sword in the guest bedroom. Could he get there in time? Should he leave these two in the main room by themselves?

“I can’t tell who it is,” Patton whispered, barely moving aside the curtain at the window. Roman stood suddenly.

“Pat, get back,” he hissed. Patton dropped the curtain and backed away.

“Everyone, calm down,” Logan said, voice level, but still low. “It’s probably nothing. I will answer the door, but Roman,” Logan turned to him, “You have to stay out of sight. No one knows you’re here.”

“It could be dangerous,” Roman said, grabbing Logan’s arm when he moved away. “Who the heck would be visiting at this time of night?”

“It’s not that late,” Logan said. “It’s only ten. I’m sure whoever it is has a good reason for showing up a bit later.” He pulled his arm from Roman’s grip and moved again around the couch. Roman moved to try to stop him, but Logan was light on his feet, at the door in no time.

“Lo-” Roman hissed, trying in vain to stop him, but Logan was already reaching for the knob. “Fuck,” he said under his breath, finally doing as Logan asked and ducking behind the couch.

Please be a civilian. Please be a civilian. Please-

A noise escaped Patton. Roman’s feet felt filled with springs, ready to jump at a hair’s breadth. He could see Patton around the corner of the couch, but he didn’t look alarmed.

Just… confused.

“Roman, you can come out,” Logan said. Now Roman was confused too.

Slowly, he stood up, his eyes immediately on the door. Logan stepped back.

And there was no one there.

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts anxiety #roman sanders #ts creativity #ts #writing updates #ahhcc #tw guilt #tw kidnapping #tw unreality #tw weapons #here's the tumblr post for y'all who prefer reading here!#it's a long one so strap in

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digitizedsouls · 3 years

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THE SLEEPY MEME

NAME. Jeremy. RESIDENCE. New Jericho. He has a sort of dormitory room, in a part of New Jericho that cares for child androids. He will likely have another child android as a roommate in the future, but I haven’t decided on who. Maybe my OC Sage. AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP. Jeremy sleeps between 6 to10 hours a night, most of the time. if he has no nightmares, he’ll get a full 10 hours. TYPE OF BED. A twin bed. It isn’t particularly soft or firm. He doesn’t really have a preference on beds, as long as they aren’t hard as a rock. AMOUNT OF BLANKETS. Several. Jeremy will cocoon himself in them. He likes the security of it. He has a heated blanket Hank gave him for Christmas, and wrapped in blankets with that one on top feels like a warm hug. AMOUNT OF PILLOWS. Just the one. If there is a second pillow he will move it aside. TYPE OF CLOTHING. Jeremy has giraffe print pajamas. He used to have a different pair, but they didn’t quite fit him, and belonged to someone else. He made sure to give them back. DO THEY SLEEP WITH COMPANY? Very rarely, and only if he is staying at their house and has a nightmare, he will climb into bed with Hank or Connor. DO THEY SLEEP WITH PLUSHIES? Yes, he has a dog plush. A St Bernard. Also a gift from Hank. He hasn’t picked a name for it yet. It’s one of those posed plushes that’s forever in a sitting position, not really floppy or exceptionally soft, made for setting on a shelf or as a bed decoration. He sleeps with it anyway. DO THEY SLEEP BETTER WITH COMPANY? Yes. DOES IT MATTER WHERE THEY SLEEP? Yes, if he doesn’t feel safe and warm, Jeremy has a very hard time sleeping. FREQUENT DREAMS, NIGHTMARES? Yes, Jeremy dreams nonsensical, whimsical dreams. He also regularly has nightmares. Sometimes they’re about him being left in the park or another location, and not always by his parents. Sometimes he’s trapped in an endless playground tunnel, and it may or may not be stormy outside while he crawls through it trying to find an exit. Sometimes they are about being caught in a blizzard, and he just can’t get warm. WHAT DO THEY DO IF THEY CANNOT FALL ASLEEP? It sort of depends where he is and what time it is. Usually he will just stay in bed and wait, and if he doesn’t sleep, he doesn’t sleep. if he’s at Hank’s house he might check to see if Hank or Connor are still awake. Not being able to get to sleep at all is pretty rare though. DEEP SLUMBER OR NAPS? Deep slumber for sure. WHEN DO THEY WAKE UP? If nothing wakes him early or keeps him from sleeping, he’ll wake up around 7:30am. Not quite on the dot, but close. WHEN DO THEY SLEEP? Jeremy will usually get sleepy around 9pm, and will go to bed around 9:30. WHAT COULD WAKE THEM UP? Loud noises. Thunder will jolt him awake immediately. A hand on his arm, or pressing the mattress so it tilts slightly, will wake him up more slowly. It takes him a few minutes to actually wake up. He has to go through the cute groggy phase of yawns and eye-rubbing first.

tagged by: @wasscared tagging: @theirvoices for Carson and Logan

Hank and Madison under the cut

NAME. Hank. RESIDENCE. He has a house. AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP. Hank’s extremely lucky if he gets 6 hours of sleep in a single night. Usually it’s less. TYPE OF BED. A king sized bed. His mattress is firmer, which is good for his back, and has a soft layer on top so the firmness of the mattress doesn’t hurt his joints. AMOUNT OF BLANKETS. One usually, sometimes a heated blanket, in winter. Half the time he forgets that one on the couch though. AMOUNT OF PILLOWS. Just the one. If there is a second pillow he will move it aside. TYPE OF CLOTHING. Usually just a T-shirt and boxers. He doesn’t like wearing pajama pants or anything with longer sleeves to bed. It’s probably because Hank runs hot, especially if he has nightmares. DO THEY SLEEP WITH COMPANY? Nope. He doesn’t bring anyone into his bed, and he doesn’t stay the night in anyone else’s. DO THEY SLEEP WITH PLUSHIES? No. DO THEY SLEEP BETTER WITH COMPANY? Probably. DOES IT MATTER WHERE THEY SLEEP? Yes. Hank can only really sleep in his own house or his car. FREQUENT DREAMS, NIGHTMARES? Hank has nightmares more often than not. They usually pertain to Cole, or to old cases gone bad. WHAT DO THEY DO IF THEY CANNOT FALL ASLEEP? Hank will usually try for a few hours, and if he isn’t gonna sleep (and he can tell) he’ll say fuck it, put on some coffee, and watch TV or read a book. DEEP SLUMBER OR NAPS? Deep slumber. When he’s out, he’s out. WHEN DO THEY WAKE UP? Late. Whatever time he wanted to get up, he’s not up yet. WHEN DO THEY SLEEP? 2 or 3 in the morning, maybe. WHAT COULD WAKE THEM UP? Loud noises. Sumo growling. His door opening. Hank wakes up really easily to certain sounds, but otherwise can be surprisingly hard to wake up.

NAME. Madison. RESIDENCE. New Jericho. AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP. Madison will try to get 6 hours of sleep a night but this almost never happens. She can’t make herself disentangle from the infirmary long enough for it. TYPE OF BED. A simple twin bed. It’s on the firmer side, but Madison doesn’t really care either way. AMOUNT OF BLANKETS. One. AMOUNT OF PILLOWS. Two. Sometimes she lays on both, sometimes she will just use one and sort of hug the other. TYPE OF CLOTHING. Anything so long as it’s clean. She won’t sleep in bloody clothes, whether she can see the blood or not. DO THEY SLEEP WITH COMPANY? No, not unless you count Simba, her cat. DO THEY SLEEP WITH PLUSHIES? No. DO THEY SLEEP BETTER WITH COMPANY? I don’t know, and I don’t think she knows either. DOES IT MATTER WHERE THEY SLEEP? Not particularly? If she’s desperate for some rest but doesn’t want to go home Madison can sit in a chair in the infirmary and stasis for an hour or two. FREQUENT DREAMS, NIGHTMARES? Madison regularly has dreams, and does have occasional nightmares. They can range from losing a patient, to being attacked personally, to New Jericho as a whole being attacked, and a variety of similar themes. She doesn’t have them very often, though, and can shake them off easily enough most of the time. WHAT DO THEY DO IF THEY CANNOT FALL ASLEEP? She will keep going about her night. Taking care of Simba, listening to music, reading a book, or going back to the infirmary because there is always something to be done. Always someone to help. DEEP SLUMBER OR NAPS? Naps. Unless she is exhausted Madison doesn’t sleep very deeply. WHEN DO THEY WAKE UP? She doesn’t have a regular sleep schedule. WHEN DO THEY SLEEP? She doesn’t have a regular sleep schedule -cry- WHAT COULD WAKE THEM UP? Most out-of-place sounds will disturb her. Someone touching her arm. The furniture she is sitting/laying on moving without her moving it, etc. She’s a light sleeper. Luckily she can get back to sleep easily, too.

#{{ About: Jeremy }}#{{ About: Hank }}#{{ About: Madison }}#{{ OOC }}#{{ Dash Games }}#long post #{{ Queue in the machine }}

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lovehugsandcandy · 5 years

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All the Jewels in the World (N*FW, Colt x MC)

A/N: Part three of the Necklace stories (Carcanet and Riviere are part 1 and 2). Thanks to @desiree-0816 for the request and the constant encouragement to actually finish this.

Pairing: Colt x MC, RoD

Length: 6,250 words (WHY?!?!?!)

Rating: N*FW (Swearing, violence, fist fight, blood, injuries, dumb boys fighting, sex, smut)

Summary: Colt doesn't just hate that necklace, he hates everything. Even Ellie. Especially Ellie. ...maybe not Ellie.

Colt woke up slowly; there were no windows in this makeshift shit room, so he never knew what time it was, but it felt late, later than normal. It felt like he slept well, for once; with The Brotherhood breathing down his neck and the constant pressure of earning his dad’s trust on his mind, it felt like sleep had been less a restive escape and more a fugue state between awake and unconscious, alert and weary. Maybe the stress of playing this lethal game of chess had finally taken its toll, finally shut down his racing thoughts and ever-present planning into an exhausted stupor.

Or maybe it had something to do with the girl in his arms. Ellie was there, had actually stayed the night, curled up on her side so he could feel the line of her spine, solid and real against his chest, could feel her lungs expand and contract under his arm as she breathed, even and peaceful into the quiet. He tried to stay as still as possible, not wanting to ruin the moment when things were good and they weren’t in danger and he could pretend that the world outside these walls didn’t exist.

She stirred, slow to wake as he had been, and he had to smile as her eyes opened, blurry gaze slowly sharpening as she woke up, blinking to bring the world into focus.

“Oh crap.” She jumped up. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know…”

She grabbed his phone, flicking it on and gasping. “CRAP! I gotta go!” He sat up to watch her flail around the room. “Clothes! Where are my clothes?”

“Ummm…" What was happening? “Where did you throw them?”

“I don’t know, Jesus. Colt, can you help me?!?”

“What’s the big deal?” He swung his legs to the floor, bracing against the bed to stand.

“Ummm, Logan? I’m staying in his room. He’s gonna notice I’m not there.” She found her shorts, hustling to throw them up her legs and grab the shirt from the floor. “Crap, crap, crap.”

He swung his legs back into bed with a frown.

“Crap, he’s gonna know, crap crap crap.” She hastily threw her hair up and threw the door open. “Gotta go.” Her shirt wasn’t even on yet when she slammed the door.

What the fuck.

Colt sat in silence, alone, stunned, for a good minute before he sarcastically waved at the door. “Bye.” He laid back down and stared at the ceiling. For a while.

For a long time actually.

For so long he really did have no idea what time it was. He was hungry a while ago but that faded away so did he miss a meal? Multiple? A whole day?

He just lay there, still naked; at some point, he got cold so he brought the sheets to his chin and continued to stare straight up at a stain of indiscriminate origin on the ceiling, unable to quell the ridiculous thoughts running through his head, thoughts that wouldn’t change anything and would still leave him here, alone in this shit bed in this shit room.

He wished they hadn’t showered together, that she would be sliding into that asshole’s bed with his cum still on her chest.

He wished he had hid her clothes, shoved them into the darkness under his bed so she would have to stay just that much longer.

He wished he had never kissed her, never felt her lips under his so he never knew what he was missing when he was alone here.

He wished he never stopped kissing her, that she was still here under him, encased in his arms.

He didn’t know what he wished but he wished for it all, his hand drifting down to press on the hickie she left by his hip. It wasn’t as dark as the ones he left on her neck, her infinite gentleness present in everything she did, stark contrast to him and the brashness that left blooming bruises in his wake.

He sat and stewed, bitter mind racing as he came to one overarching, far-reaching conclusion. As much as he wanted to hide from the world, he wasn’t gonna be the heartsick loser holed away in his bed. If she wanted to spend her time with the replacement, that was her choice. He had far more important things to do than pine for some goody-two-shoes valedictorian.

And he was far too smart to play a game he couldn’t win.

~~~~~~

“Crap, crap, crap, crap.” Ellie’s curses were whispers, thrown into the shadows of the shop as she finished throwing her shirt on and tiptoed up the stairs as fast as she could.

She slid into bed, breathing a small sigh of relief when Logan didn’t stir. She had just started to get comfortable, making the perfect divot in the pillow for her head, when he spoke.

“Ellie?” Her heart dropped. “Where were you?”

She opened her eyes to see him peering at her, the confusion written on his face plainly giving way to hurt. “I…”

“You know you can just tell me, right? I’m not gonna judge you.” He frowned. “I just… I worry about you.”

“You don’t need to.”

“I know.” He rolled onto his side so he could look her head on, early rays of the sun bathing him in a brilliant glow. “But I do.”

She sat up in a huff, leaning back so she could glare out the window and avoid his gaze. “Everyone thinks I’m this helpless damsel. I don’t need people to worry about me. I need people to let me live.”

“I get it, I just…I got you into this mess, here, with the crew and the shop.” He followed her up, sitting against the headboard so their shoulders brushed. “I have some responsibility for any shit that happens here.”

“You don’t have any responsibility for me!”

“I do if you’re making dangerous decisions! You know what happens to people like us.”

She rolled her eyes. “You say that like we’re so different.”

“We ARE! You have a comfortable life and-”

“We’re both car thieves now, Logan.” The words hurt but they were true. After the Grapevine job, they were more the same than they were different.

He studied her. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

She sighed, gazing out the window at the sun lighting up the avenue.

“Ellie?” His voice was quieter now, gentle. “Where were you?”

She turned to him and took a steadying breath. “Downstairs.”

“In the shop?”

“…With Colt.” The look on her face dared him to speak.

“What?” Apparently, he dared. “Colt?!?!”

“Yeah. I’ve been hooking up with Colt.”

“Seriously? That ass-”

“You said you wouldn’t judge.” She swatted a stray hair behind her ear, annoyed.

“But…him?”

“Yeah.”

Logan took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I just think…you deserve someone who has the capacity to treat you right.”

“Come on, he’s not that-”

“Colt has the capacity to love himself. And ride a motorcycle. And…that’s about it.”

“Logan…” she groaned, smile peeking out despite herself.

He threaded his arm around her shoulder to give her a squeeze, a semi-hug that told her everything was gonna be ok. “You know I just worry about you. I know you can take care of yourself. I just…Jeez, troublemaker, I have no idea what you see in him.”

“I…I like him.”

“Him? Of all people?”

“You don’t…you don’t know him like I do.” She looked at her hands. No one else knew how his hands gentled when they slid through her hair, curved over her waist, and touched every single inch of her laid bare. No one else knew how he clung to those close to him, jealous eyes and resentful stares belying a deep fear that the ones he cared for would vanish in the night. And no one else saw him last night, plaintive, forlorn, asking her to stay in his bed as if it were physically painful when she walked away.

Logan crossed his hands over his chest. “If he hurts you, I swear to God…”

“He won’t.”

The eye roll she got in return was so extreme she felt her face ache in sympathy. “Ellie, he’s an asshole!”

“I know. But he won’t.”

He tried to smile, a weak quirk of his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes, disbelief plain as day on his face. She tried to smile back, to reassure him. She didn’t think it worked.

~~~~~

Colt slung the backpack over his shoulder with a sigh, closing the door behind him. It had been easy to convince his father to let him hunt down their contact in Fresno, a simple job to find the guy and learn what he knew about The Brotherhood.

Simple, easy, painless, and a way to get the hell out of the shop for a while so he could fix his head.

He couldn’t afford to be distracted by some girl, no matter how clever and tough and attractive she was, especially when she went running back to Logan at every single goddamn opportunity. He had told himself, fuck, he had sworn that he wouldn’t go down this road the first time they slept together. She was shacked up with that fucking prick in the loft and he knew, he knew that what they did only took place in the dark. He fucking knew that his claim on her nights was secret, something only for the two of them, and that any intimacy they shared started only when the world had fallen asleep and ended well before daylight.

But then they kept hooking up. And she kept sneaking down to see him. And he kept hating that utter asshole who got to claim her days, burning rage threatening to boil over numerous times.

Once she made it clear that she wasn’t sticking around through sunrise, he realized he was in over his head.

So this had to stop. Now. He wasn’t weak, not for her, not for anyone, and this trip was a way to prove it and get the fuck away, just until he had his head on straight and was able to put this entire thing out of his mind.

It was dead quiet on the shop floor as he walked to his bike. As he was running through the mental checklist in his head, trying to plot out every step along the way to obtaining the information he needed, the moonlight reflected off the metal steps leading to the loft. He stopped, eyes caught up in the glow and then sliding to the loft door. It was silent and dark up there.

He wondered…

He shook his head. No. This was a shitty idea.

He walked over to the bike, making sure he had everything, checking his pockets, and glanced up the loft stairs again. No. Shitty, shitty idea.

He had swung his leg over the bike, hand on the throttle, ready to go, when he peered up the stairs one last time. He didn’t know what possessed him but, now that he had the horrible sanity-killing idea, he knew it wasn’t leaving his mind. So he got off, leaving his bag and shoes by the kickstand, and silently edged up the stairs, cursing himself the entire way. He turned the knob, carefully, poking his head in to make sure it was still before stepping inside.

The giant windows showcased almost all of Gramercy Park, pale moonlight illuminating the pavement, the storefronts, all of it in a dull glow that obscured the actual grime and rot of the neighborhood. It looked beautiful from here, a marked comparison to his shit room with no windows and bare walls and a leak spreading steadily over his head. His eyes easily adjusted; he knew this room well, had stayed in the loft on visits when he was younger, before he was discarded and replaced.

A quick glance at the couch found it empty. Against his better judgement, he turned his eyes to the bed, where there were two distinct lumps under a faded blanket. He stared, eyes burning, stomach roiling, fists clenching, glaring at Ellie and Logan sharing a bed, bathed in the moon’s glow. He stood, frozen, watching two chests rise and fall, soft pairs of breath in the silent room, encased in moonlight. Violent red was steadily creeping into his vision, graying the edges, periphery fading so all he could see were two bodies, peacefully asleep and oblivious to the rage churning his mind.

When he had looked his fill, when he stood long enough that he was sure that his foolish mind and broken heart received the message, he turned to go, fists still painfully clenched. He headed back downstairs, grabbed his shoes, and walked his bike out the bay door, careful not to turn the engine until he was halfway down the street, out of sight of the shop and of anyone who had a clear view out the window in a room where they never slept alone.

~~~~~

It wasn’t like Ellie was counting the days, but she was counting the days.

The first day passed in a blur with school and classes. She knew she didn’t see Colt but just figured that their paths didn’t cross at all.

The second day, she snuck down to his room, fully expecting their usual banter, but the room was dark, empty. She frowned and wondered, heavy footsteps leading her back up to the loft.

The third day, she paid closer attention and realized that he wasn’t in the garage at all. She guessed that she had subconsciously realized it, no sarcastic exchanges in the shop, no secretive exchanges in private. She was angry at first-he didn’t even tell her he was going anywhere!-then tried to tell herself she had no right to be upset. She was still angry.

The fourth day, she had to ask Kaneko, anger fading into concern. “On a job up north.” Well then. Helpful.

She was fully distracted the fifth day, unable to concentrate on her homework, every engine roar outside making her turn to the bay doors, face falling when she realized it wasn’t him.

The sixth day, Logan took to trying to cheer her up, grabbing Kelso’s for lunch and trying to teach her to change a set of brake pads. As much as she appreciated it, his efforts didn’t work.

Finally, on the seventh day, just when she was starting to panic, unanswered calls and texts weighing heavy on her mind, just then, the rumble of a motorcycle pulled her from her thoughts. She stood before thinking about it, watching him slow to a stop and swing his leg over before nudging the kickstand out with his toe. He didn’t even look up, fiddling with something on the dash, and she looked at Logan. She shrugged. He helplessly shrugged back.

Finally, she pushed off the car she was leaning on and headed over. Colt didn’t even look up at her shuffling steps.

“Welcome back.”

He raised his eyebrows in a silent response, eyes trained on the helmet in his hands.

“Where were you?

He shrugged. "Had a job to do.” He still wasn’t looking at her, messing with the buckle to the chinstrap.

“You’ve been gone for a week.”

“I was working.”

“You didn’t even text me back.”

“Been busy.” Another shrug as he placed the helmet on his bike, careful hands at odds with his harsh tone.

“Seriously?” Her voice fell to an angry whisper. “I texted you to see if you were alive every day for the last three days and all you can say is ‘been busy’?!?“

“Yeah.” Finally, he looked at her and Ellie pulled back at the barely contained fury in his eyes. “I’m fine. I can take care of myself, by myself. I don’t need you checking up on me. I don’t fucking need you at all.”

She was stunned, gaping at him as he pushed by her to walk away, shoulders in an angry line. He was halfway through the shop when Logan’s cutting voice made him pause.

“You asshole. She was just worried about you, no need to be a prick.”

She could see Colt’s face, darkening degree by degree as he slowly turned around. “Why don’t you just mind your fucking business.”

Logan rolled his eyes, stepping closer. “Maybe it is my business if you treat her like shit.”

Her heart dropped. It was like watching a car accident in slow motion, seeing the cars heading for each other and being powerless to stop it, only able to tense up and wait for the crash.

“Listen, you fuck.” Colt mirrored his action, stepping closer to Logan, shoulders back. “She’s a big girl. I think she can take care of herself.”

She winced. She could almost see the gears in Logan’s head turning, him remembering their conversation where he worried about her heart. “You don’t think you should take care of her?”

"Oh, don’t you worry. I took good care of her for you when she snuck out of your bed at night.”

Logan’s glare could cut glass and her stomach plummeted. “Excuse me?”

“So go shove all this fake protective shit. I really don’t think you have any reason to get involved here.”

Ellie moved towards them both; by this point, Mona and Toby had noticed the confrontation, stopping to stare, but she only had eyes for the pair in front of her, her internal alarms screaming as she took in the set of Colt’s jaw, the fire in Logan’s eyes.

“Well, maybe I actually care about her and I’m not some sociopathic asshole running around desperate to impress his father.”

She could see it happening in slow motion: Mona’s whispered “Oh shit,” the tensing of Colt’s hand, Logan’s sneer. She had just opened her mouth to say something, anything to stop this, when Colt sprung, throwing his entire body into the punch, first swinging and connecting with Logan’s jaw. The noise was sickening, flesh and bone connecting, Logan’s face spinning with the impact as he fell back a step and Ellie gasped.

And then everything sped up. They moved, faster than Ellie could blink, fists hurtling through the air so quickly she couldn’t keep track, couldn’t tell who was hitting and who was hurting. There was blood, somewhere, from someone, but she couldn’t even tell, just wanted to avert her eyes from the barbaric display as two people she foolishly cared about assaulted the ever-loving hell out of each other.

“Idiots.” Mona scoffed behind her. “Just a pair of absolute fucking morons.”

Ellie couldn’t watch but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. “What if they hurt each other?”

“I hope they do. Serves them right.”

Maybe Mona didn’t care but Ellie did. “Guys!” Logan landed a hit to Colt’s face and ignored her. “Logan!” Colt fought back with a jab to the jaw and Ellie winced. “COLT!” Her shriek finally made him turn, eyes wild the widening in pain as Logan’s fist slammed into his side. She winced. She could hear the thud of impact from where she stood.

“You mother fucking-” Colt doubled over but sprang up quickly, tacking Logan to the ground, fists flying as Logan’s flew back, alternating between protecting his head and trying to land a shot at Colt’s head. Ellie screamed again but they kept hitting, grappling, ferocious and wild in a pile of limbs and rage.

“Enough.” Kaneko’s voice carried through the shop, low but with a hint of malice that made everyone pause, even the two boys locked in full-body contact on the concrete floor.

With a sneer, Colt clambered up, blood dripping steadily from a cut under his left eye. Logan moved slower, favoring his right side and dabbing at a bloody lip, but stood as well, fixing Colt with a glower. They both stood, the calm after the storm, wreckage painted over crimson knuckles, watching Kaneko step closer.

Kaneko’s voice was tightly controlled but Ellie could hear annoyance, anger, and a hint of exhaustion seeping through. “Logan, upstairs. Colt, my office. Now.” He turned and walked away. Colt straightened his jacket before stalking after his father. If she hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed his eyes cutting to hers as he stomped by, a flash of storm clouds under knitted brows. In an instant, it was gone and all she could see were his shoulders, weighed down and tense, disappearing into the back.

~~~~~

Everything hurt. Colt was trying to ignore the pinpoints of pain that coursed through his body, but it was hard when every single cell felt sore. He had just rolled over to try to sleep off the worst of it when his door opened, creak of the hinge loud in the silent room. He looked up from his sprawl on his bed and groaned. “Just go away.”

Ellie shook her head, slipping off her shoes so she could crawl across the bed to him. Her eyes were so concerned, so sad, that he had to close his before he reached for her. When she got to his head, she put an ice pack against his eye, still looking at him with worried eyes.

He waved her off, pushing her hand away so the ice fell to the bed. “Shouldn’t you be taking care of your boyfriend?”

“Jesus Christ, Colt.” He rolled away from her. He should have stayed in that shitty motel. He didn’t want to come back for this bullshit. “Colt, let me just…”

“Stop, Ellie. Just stop.” He watched her face fall at his tone, harsh and unforgiving in the quiet room, hanging in the air as she crouched over him. “I want you to leave.”

Her face fell further and Colt had to bite his lip before he said something he regretted, something that made his time away pointless.

“But…” She pulled back, eyes cautious, putting space in between them.

It was easier to think when she was further away, when he didn’t have to watch those expressive eyes emote pain. “Please leave.”

She opened her mouth to speak but reconsidered, closing it again with a sigh. With one last look, she stood and walked out the door, closing it softly behind her.

He had just shoved the ice pack onto the floor and settled back down into bed when the door opened with a slam. “You asshole.” She slammed the door even harder behind her, stalking over to the bed. “You asshole!“

“What the fuck did I-”

She was shaking, fists were clenched at the end of stiff arms vibrating in rage. “I knew you were a jerk but this is low, even for you. You think you can treat people like that? Sleep with me and act like you care and then vanish?” Tears were pooling in her eyes; he would have felt guilty if he weren’t so furious. "You can’t ghost me. We...we slept together. And I live here!”

“Yeah, you live here with your fucking boyfriend!“ He struggled to sit up, side aching with the effort. “Remember him? The guy upstairs?”

“You know it’s not like that, stop calling him that!”

“It’s exactly like that, you two sharing a bed, all happy couple, fucking congratulations, I asked you to-”

“He’s my friend and I’m kinda homeless right now!”

“Well then, I’ll just invite my friends to stay here too, hell, why not? Tons of room in my bed, I can fuck my way through the homeless population of LA.”

“You’re being ridiculous. I never slept with Logan.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s the truth, you emotionally constipated assho-”

“I asked you to LEAVE!” His chest was heaving and he held back a wince; the shout made his ribs ache. His side hurt, his eye hurt, and all he wanted was to lay down and sleep until he forgot that his heart hurt most of all.

They stared at each other. Tears were streaming down Ellie’s face now, wet trails glistening as they slid over her lips and dripped down her jaw. “You need to listen to me.” Her voice was sure, low, certain. “I never slept with him. Ever. We kissed once, before I ever met you. So you can take your attitude-”

“Wait-”

“I never slept with anyone before you. I never had a boyfriend. But-”

“Wait just a-”

“Colt, you can’t-”

“STOP. Just stop. For a second. Please.” He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. “I don’t…You never….not before we…”

“What?”

“Back up. You didn’t hook up with Logan?”

“No.”

“You never had sex before we…”

“No? No, I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you-” His mind raced, thoughts flying to the first time they ever had sex, in this very room, Ellie on top of him like a fucking goddess, sliding down onto his cock with a low moan that drove him insane. “I didn’t know-” He tried to remember every second, searching for any hint that it was her first time; he came up empty. Fuck. A girl like her deserved roses and candlelight, not stolen moments in a hidden-away basement bedroom in the front for a criminal enterprise.

The bed dipped as she sat next to him, putting her palm to his cheek so she could catch his eye. “I know you didn’t know. I didn’t want to tell you.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged, blush spreading over her cheeks. “I was embarrassed.”

“Why? Everybody has a first time. I would have-”

“You would have what?”

“I dunno.” He wracked his brain. “I would have tried to make it special, at least. For you. If I knew.”

“I didn’t want you to know. I guess I thought you wouldn’t want me.” She looked down, suddenly shy. “I think you don’t want me a lot of the time.”

“The hell would you think that?”

Another shrug. “We only hook up when I sneak down here.”

“Am I supposed to sneak into the loft?”

“No, but…” She twisted her hands together on her lap. “I guess I just thought…I know you. You fought to get into the crew, clawed your way back into your dad’s life, and now you’re taking on The Brotherhood. You fight for what you want. It’s in your blood, it’s who you are.” She bit her lip. “I just thought… If you wanted me, you would fight for me.”

“I wanted to rip that fucking necklace from your neck.” His jaw clenched. “I fucking wanted to take every single piece of him off of you and replace it.” He didn’t recognize the voice coming from his mouth, anger coursing through him, both bone-deep and shimmering on the surface. "But you acted like this meant nothing every time you ran out the door to jump in his bed.”

“You mean every time I tried to hide the fact that I felt like a dirty little secret?”

Colt gaped. How could she have gotten this so wrong? "How were you the secret? I thought you and Logan were together.”

“No.” She shook her head, eyes still sad. “Not at all.”

Hell, how could he have gotten it so wrong? “You want me to fight for you?” He leaned closer, ignoring the stitch in his side to cup her cheek, still damp with sadness. “I’d rather fight with you by my side.” She didn’t pull away so he leaned closer, familiar heat arcing between them, warmer and warmer until he was engulfed and the only thing he could do was pull her lips to his in a desperate attempt to quell the flame.

She moaned into his mouth, low and lusty, the noise drawing his lips down her jaw to her neck, so he could taste where the sound was vibrating at her throat, then lower, biting designs in bare skin where a chain usually lie.

“I won’t wear it, not anymore.” Her words were breathy as her fingers curled into her hair.

“I don’t give a shit what you wear.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Wear whatever you want, as long as you’re only fucking me.”

She pulled his head up from where he was speaking into her shoulder, fingers in his hair lifting until she could look him in the face with her wide, questioning eyes. Whatever she saw there was apparently enough and he could do nothing but sigh his surrender into her lips.

She was gentle, far more than he deserved, careful hands spinning up his sides to slip the shirt off his head, the pants off his legs. He tried to return the favor but knew his own fingertips were unable, hands rough, harshly digging into every inch of skin as he shed her clothes from her body, powerless to stop them from digging possessive divots into skin and muscle and flesh he needed to claim as his own.

She didn’t seem mind, pushing him back against the bed so she could move over him, spreading her legs so her core, dripping and hot and needy, needy for him, only for him, her core was right over him and then sliding down as Colt’s eyes screwed shut and he had to take shallow breaths so he could try and hold onto some semblance of sanity.

She had just gotten into a good rhythm, the grind if her hips making light flare behind his eyelids, when her knee hit his side; damn, that was gonna be a nasty bruise. She noticed his expression, trailing a soft hand over the spot where Logan nailed him. “Come here, sit up.”

She helped him move with careful hands so he could lean against the headboard, fingers so gentle at his back that his breath and his heart caught in his throat. Once she was sure he was comfortable, she dropped into his lap, taking him inside her again, eyes never leaving his face, inches from his own.

This wasn’t how he and Ellie had sex; hell, this wasn’t how he ever slept with anyone, so close it felt like her eyes were peering into every dark corner of his soul, seeing every weakness, every flaw. He couldn’t bring himself to look away, hands cradling her thighs as if they were glass, a fragile beauty of skin and bone. He realized that he was the only one who had touched her like this, unknowingly the only one who had seen her in these moments, when his jealousy consumed his mind and prevented him from seeing what was right in front of him.

“What’s wrong?” Her big brown eyes were staring straight into his soul.

She was so tight, so hot around him, and it took every inch of his self-control not to thrust. It was like the sweetest torture he ever felt, an intense interrogation with the strength her walls, like a vise around him, her eyes looking through him. She wasn’t even moving anymore, just watching him, so close they were sharing the same breath, so close there was no room for lies between them, so close that the only thing he could possibly speak was the painful, selfish truth.

His voice was broken. “I want you. For real.” He had to look away, look anywhere but those eyes. “You’re in his bed every night…and, I just….I want you here.”

Fuck, he was weak, as weak as his father claimed in angry words and hushed whispers, words designed to push him out and keep him out. She brought it out of him like it was pulled straight from his weak soul and his weak heart, brought to the surface from the deep, dark places where he hid it from the world. His weakness, his utter failure, was obvious as lines on his skin, running across the surface; she made him weak like a siren calling his heart to crash on a distant shore. All his life, he fought against any and all weakness, determined to eradicate it from his soul. But if losing all weakness meant losing her? Hell, he had already failed.

“You have me, Colt.” He hissed as she shifted, a slow roll of her hips, burying him deeper. “You always did.”

All he could focus on, all his weak weak mind could see, was her face as she took her pleasure from him, his eyes trailing from the delicate flutter of each individual eyelash to the flush on her cheeks, spreading incrementally outward up her cheekbone, rosy line edging to her hair, to the bow of her lips, so close that each breath was a puff of air that landed on his own lips. Sharing the same air was an intimacy that took his own breath away, to be replaced with the air from her lungs.

“You’re staring.” Her eyes were narrow slits.

“You’re gorgeous.”

“I’m yours.”

His hands moved before he could think, pulling her closer so he could steal the exhale directly from her mouth, lips sealing around hers in a kiss so deep he could feel it in his toes. When he pulled back, her eyes were glistening again but he thought that these tears maybe marked a different emotion. She started moving again, a swivel of her hips that quickly grew more frantic, harsher. He moved to match her, thumb sliding through her folds to touch the place where their bodies met, pushing electric currents of pleasure through his veins.

When his hand finally reached her clit, she sagged against him, hips still chasing her high and his thumb tracing patterns that made her breath unsteady in his ear. It only took three more thrusts of his hips, swiveling his hips so the last drag slid over the spot he discovered their very first time, in this very bed, when he unknowingly took her virginity and she unknowingly took his heart.

The noise from her throat, a high whine that spoke of pleasure and satisfaction and a million different things he couldn’t verbalize, her walls, tightening and clenching around him, hell everything just pulled his orgasm from him as he held her close, hand at her lower back holding on for dear life as he sunk into oblivion.

When he was finally able to open his eyes, they had somehow slid into a tangled heap, lying flat on the bed. He was naked and sweaty and sore, eye aching and side starting to throb where she was draped over him.

He never wanted to get up.

He thumbed a fading mark on her neck. He always thought the hickies were because he wanted to show the world that she belonged to him, that she was his, tied to him in a way deeper and more meaningful than a piece of jewelry around her neck.

But maybe it was he who wanted to belong to her.

She stiffened. “Crap.” He lifted his head to watch her leap from the bed, grabbing her clothes and haphazardly throwing them on with a speed he wouldn’t have believed if he had not unfortunately seen it before.

“Ellie?”

She put one finger up as she opened the door and then was gone, out the door so quickly he couldn’t be sure that she had been there at all, disappearing like a wisp of his fractured mind. He dropped his head against the pillow with a groan.

He had just started getting angry again, internal voices starting a furious chorus, when the doorknob turned; almost as soon as she had left, she was back, sliding the door open, wheeze in her inhale a remnant of her sprint across the shop. In her arms was a bundle of something, he couldn’t make out. He lifted his head to squint at her.

She moved to his dresser, opening drawers at random until she found what she was looking for in the second from the top. She rustled around for a minute, old magazine crinkling as she pushed it to the side, and then dropped the stuff in.

“What the hell was that?” he asked as she slid back into bed, wrapping his arm back around her waist with a sigh.

“My things. You think I’m supposed to stay here with no toothbrush? No clothes?”

He had to swallow to stop the words from coming unbidden from his lips as his brain seized; it took a minute for his heart to settle and his mouth to release the easy reply. “You can definitely stay here with no clothes.”

She laughed, threading their fingers together.

“No, seriously. We have a clothes-optional policy here.”

She spun in his arms, trailing her palm down his chest. “You are definitely taking advantage of that policy.”

“Maybe it should be a no clothing allowed policy.” His fingers found the bare patch of skin at her back, warm and real under his hands.

“Mmmmh…” She leaned closer. “There sure are a lot of policies here. If you want me to stay down here, I think you need to simplify it a little.”

“Oh, I can simplify it very easily.” He pulled the shirt over her head, easily, ducking his head to tease the curve of her neck before he caught her eye, gaze earnest. “I want you to stay down here.”

Her answering grin was as bright than any piece of jewelry he had ever seen. Spark plug be damned, he was gonna keep that look on her face as long as he could.

Tags:

Perma

@desiree-0816 @leelee10898 @emichelle @client-327 @choicesgremlin @brightpinkpeppercorn

ROD

@omgjasminesimone @mskaneko

Colt

@deimosensblog @alegria1580 @choicesarehard @thefarrari @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @flowerpowell@poeticscolt @zaira-oh-zaira @umiumichan @akrenich @sibella-plays-choices @maxwellsquidsuit @liamzigmichael4ever @octobereighth @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction

#playchoices fanfic #colt x mc #colt kaneko #ride or die: a bad boy romance #choices rod #n*fw #lemon #30 diamond scene #fanfic #amy writes

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goalcaufield · 5 years

Text

rival - r. donovan

word count: about 1200 summary: you’re dating ryder donovan, who goes to duluth east, while you go to denfeld high school, a known minnesota high school rivalry. your relationship is secret, which can be pretty tough on game days. warning: sooo the first half of this i wrote about two months ago. the second half i just wrote, so it’s pretty bad because i’m still getting into the swing of things!

Walking through the Heritage Sports Center you carefully peer around one of the corners before darting down the hallway. If anyone were to catch you even anywhere near Duluth East’s locker room you’d be dead, but the fact that you’re supposed to be meeting Ryder right outside it? Yeah, you’d be shot dead on the spot if anyone from Denfeld saw you. So you keep your head down low in case anyone were to spot you and figure you out. When your phone rings in your hand you almost freeze, but when you look down at it you’re relieved to see it’s only Ryder.

ryder<3: are you here yet?

right down the hall. be there in 30 seconds

Right as you slip your phone back into the pocket of your sweatshirt is when you feel a hand grab your arm, yanking you into a dark closet. “Who the—” You begin, but you’re cut off when a pair of lips meet yours. Right away you know that it’s Ryder, and instantly do you melt into his touch.

Ryder pulls away from you slowly leaving you smiling. His hand runs along the wall to find the light switch, and when he flicks it on you’re met with his smiling face. “I’ve missed you,” He whispers, careful to keep his voice low so as not to risk any of his teammates walking by hearing.

“Ry, it’s only been three days,” You wrap your arms around his neck, eyes flickering down to his lips. “And, you know I always come up with some excuse to see you.”

“Three days is a lot for us, you know. We don’t get to see each other like every other couple our age does.” You frown at his words, but he’s right. Ryder notices your change in demeanor and presses a quick kiss to your lips. When he pulls away his eyebrows furrow as he takes in your appearance. “Y’know, not digging the attire tonight, babe.” He tugs on the hem of your Denfeld ice hockey sweatshirt and you roll your eyes before pulling it up, revealing the Duluth East hockey shirt you had stolen from Ryder. “That’s my girl.”

“Couldn’t not rep my boy, could I? Even if it has to be in secret. Speaking of which, this is a new hiding spot.” You eye the sketchy looking supply closet, a strange variety of hockey gear and cleaning supplies all over.

“Okay, well considering last game Charlie almost caught us, I think finding a new spot was a given.” You giggle at the memory — and the embarrassment — from the last game you had met Ryder at. Poor Charlie had just wanted to fill up his water bottle, but he had chosen a horrible time to do so. You and Ryder had been in the middle of a rather heated make out session, but luckily you pulled away fast enough when Ryder heard footsteps. Then, you had to quickly come up with some bullshit story after stumbling over your words. Luckily, Charlie believed it and you two were let off the hook. You weren’t exactly unknown to the East boys though, so it hadn’t been easy.

“A supply closet, though? Man, you really are the romantic type, Donovan,” You tease Ryder, thumbs running across his cheeks before bringing his lips down to yours. Ryder pulls you impossibly closer to him, hands slipping under your sweatshirt and his shirt to rest his cold hands on your bare back.

The door to the supply closet opens, and before either of you can react, Ryder’s best friend does. “What the fuck, Ryder?” Logan bites out, and quickly you and Ryder pull away from one another. You cringe immediately, knowing he recognizes the last name on your sweatshirt as the opposing goalie for the night. Of course, tonight is the night you chose to wear your brother’s hockey sweatshirt.“Didn’t know you were into those girls.” You narrow your eyes into slits at Logan. If it wasn’t for Ryder and him being best friends you would’ve ripped him to shreds right then and there.

“Logan, you cannot tell any of the boys, got that? I’d never hear the end of it, you know that. You can’t do that to me.” Ryder basically pleads to his best friend who’s eyes are locked on yours. You’re having a glaring contest with each other, and Ryder sighs when he realizes this isn’t going anywhere. “Y/N, I’ll see you after the game, alright?”

You huff, and before you can escape the tension building room Ryder kisses your cheek. Logan dodges you as you walk out as if you have some sort of disease, and while you make your way towards the rink you can hear Ryder and Logan bickering while they walk to the locker room. When you make your way into the rink your friends are already at your usual seats repping their Denfeld gear. You take a seat next to Audrey, who smirks at you.

“Where were you at, seeing your secret boyfriend?” Your eyes go wide and she begins to laugh. “Just messing. I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“I was just talking to Shawn. Pregame thing, you know?” You say trying to cover up the very obvious lie, but you’re saved when the boys all begin to skate out to begin their warm ups. In this situation you never know who to watch: your brother or your boyfriend of five months. Five months of complete sneaking around, and honestly, it was starting to get old. You just wished you could scream it to the roof tops that Ryder Donovan is your boyfriend, but you wouldn’t be able to do that without the criticism of your brother and his friends and not to mention all of Ryder’s teammates. It was a lose-lose situation.

Before you know it the game is underway, and like normal when Denfeld played East the game was rocky right off the bat. Penalties weren’t being called, causing the boys to start rough housing, which lead to frustration and pissed off teammates, but if you were being honest seeing Ryder and Zach going at each other was pretty hot. You just had to keep quiet about it so Audrey wouldn’t be able to tell.

By the end of the third period, the score is tied at 2 a piece leaving for a nail-biting worthy overtime period. When Ryder gets a penalty you curse under your breath as your home team suddenly has the man advantage, and when those boys get on the powerplay they rarely ever disappoint.

This must be one of those rare occurrences.

You’re practically on the edge of your seat as you watch on the clock on the scoreboard ticking down. As soon as the timer hits zero the door to the penalty box opens up, Charlie passes the puck to him, and Ryder is taking off towards Denfeld’s side of the ice where your brother just happens to be standing in the net. You watch as the puck leaves Ryder’s stick flying right above your brother’s shoulder, the buzzer sounding signalling a Duluth East win, you rising to your feet to cheer along with the students from East.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Audrey hisses and her eyes are narrowed up at you. “That - That thing just scored on your brother!”

You turn to face her. “I’m dating Ryder Donovan.”

#ryder donovan #r. donovan #team usa #usntdp #ntdp #not really lmao #i just want notes

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sebthesnipe · 4 years

Text

Bibliophile

February Prompts 2/21

Prompt List

First // Previously // Next

The February Collection on AO3

My Dearest Procyon

Other works by me

Prompt: Quit / Quick

Ship: Prinxiety and logicality

Original story based on this wonderful post by @underdog-arts

Virgil breathed deeply, the earthy smell of old books filling his lungs. Tension seemed to fall from his shoulders as he released the breath. There was nothing quite as comforting as being hidden behind shelves and shelves of books. Libraries and bookshops, like this one, had always been his haven against the horrific truths of the world. He allowed his fingers to dance across the spines that lined the shelf in front of him, enjoying the rough cloth or stitched leather that covered them before finally making his selection.

The thick book slid from its spot with ease, leaving a small line in the dust where it had been sitting. It was obviously not a popular selection, not that Virgil minded. It had a generous amount of weight to it as Virgil caressed the block and gold cover reading the engraved words ‘Collection From The Crypt’. It was an apt name for a collection of poetry revolving around death, and one that Virgil had read many times. In fact, it was one of his favorites, he would be lying if he claimed not to have wished for a copy on their travels.

His lips turned up in his excitement as he gently opened the book, flipping through the pages slowly to take in the titles of each page.

“What are you reading?” Roman asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and causing Virgil to start snapping the book shut.

“What?” the witch replied a bit too hastily not to be suspicious.

Roman moved closer, stepping around the bookshelf he had suddenly appeared from behind. “What are you reading?” he asked again, bending to try and get a glimpse of the title.

In a quick jerk of his hands, Virgil brought the book up to his chest, hiding the cover. He was unsure as to why he felt so embarrassed about his passion for poetry but it was certainly a driving force at the moment.

“Nothing you would be interested in,” Virgil insisted, hoping beyond hope that Roman would accept that as an answer and leave it be. Naturally, he was wrong.

Despite Virgil’s valiant efforts, Roman had managed to catch sight of the gold lettering against the black leather. He couldn’t help but give a knowing smile as he met the witch’s gaze.

“Oh?” he asked curiously, arching a brow. “Why is that?”

“I dunno,” the smaller man mumbled with a shrug, obviously unsure of himself, “Its probably not… princely enough for you.” Roman’s smile faltered slightly, though Virgil wasn’t quite sure he was meant to see it.

Roman took a moment to gather his thoughts. Was that really how Virgil saw him? Was he nothing but some snobbish prince that was only as good as his title? Well, that stung a bit more than the prince had expected it to.

He gave a nod, pursing his lips as he turned away, moving to the small chair at the end of the row of books and sat down. He seemed a bit out of place among the dusty tomes around him, but Virgil was just thankful he had allowed him some space as he turned back to his book.

“God lay dead in heaven;” Roman’s voice came softly, causing the witch to tense. “Angels sang the hymn of the end” his voice was gentle as he paced the words slowly, allowing them to creep towards the smaller man, causing the hair on his arms to stand on end. “Purple winds went moaning, their wings drip-dripping with blood that fell upon the earth.”

Virgil’s head lifted in surprise as he finally recognized why he knew the words. His wide gaze met the prince’s as he continued to recite the poem from one of Virgil’s favorite collections.

Roman’s voice remained low, despite the dark tones of the words. He spoke them as if every utterance was a prayer; like an ode to a love lost. It was heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time. Virgil wasn’t quite sure how to handle it.

“It, groaning thing, turned black and sank. Then from the far caverns of dead sins came monsters, livid with desire,” Roman continued, his hazel gaze meeting Virgil's glamoured one almost flatly. “They fought, wrangled over the world, a morsel.”

“But of all sadness this was sad-” Virgil interrupted, seizing his chance, “A woman’s arms tried to shield the head of a sleeping man from the jaws of the final beast.”

Silence fell between them for only a moment before Virgil finally averted his gaze, face flushing with a mix of emotions.

“Not one of my favorites, but I’m a little surprised that you know it,” he admitted softly, toying with the corner of the book still in his hands.

“Why? Because poetry isn’t ‘princely’?” Roman asked, using the man’s own words against him.

Virgil knew he kind of deserved that. “I wouldn’t say that it’s poetry in general,” he offered, trying to placate the obvious offense Roman had taken, “it is more due to the fact that the end of the world in that poem seems a bit dark for your… well, you-ness.”

“My ‘you-ness’?” the prince asked, earning a vague shrug from the witch. Roman gave a small sigh, shaking his head slightly before replying. “I would argue that the meaning of the poem isn’t dark.”

“What?” the smaller man scoffered, hugging the book to his chest once more. “It’s about death and destruction devouring the entirety of the world!”

“Is it though?” Roman asked with an arch of his brow.

“What else could it possibly be about?!” Virgil demanded.

“It is a beautiful tale of a brave heroine!” Roman replied, fervently tossing his hands up, it seemed to be a custom when the man grew excited, Virgil noticed.

“You have got to be joking,” the darker of the two huffed in response.

“I never joke about poetry,” the seriousness in Roman’s tone had Virgil pausing, a shiver running down his spine.

“Alright, Your Royal Pain, how so?” He had to admit, he was curious as to where Roman was going with this. It wasn’t often he had a chance to discuss his interests outside of Logan, and even then the fellow witch was a bit dry.

“Well, as you pointed out the other day, even though we live in the same society, I experience a world that is vastly different from your own,” Roman pointed out.

“Yeah. So?”

“So,” the prince sighed, causing the too tight shirt that covered his chest to squeeze him just a bit more, drawing the witch’s gaze. Virgil really needed to quit staring. He forced his mismatched eyes up, trying his best to focus on what Roman was actually saying rather than the way he was dressed.

“What if ‘the world’ that the poem speaks of isn’t the land around us at all? Perhaps it is the woman’s own experience within the world,just as you and I live in two different worlds,” he explained, waving a hand between himself and the smaller man standing before him to reinforce his point. “We see how she has lost her faith in God. The Angels weep for her as the darkness of the world she lives in claws at her very being.”

Virgil stared at the other man, his heart beginning to beat a bit fast as Roman continued. He wasn’t quite sure how the prince did not see his explanation as ‘dark’, but he was far too interested in discovering where he was being led to bother asking.

“However, despite the dark and twisted world she sees, despite the horrific evil that surrounds her, wanting to rip her apart, she does not think of herself,” Roman sighed, a soft almost awed smile playing on his lips. “No, her thoughts are with the man that is with her. She thinks not of herself as she uses her own body to shield his. She thinks not of herself as she feeds herself to the beast in the hopes of delaying the man’s suffering. In the end, she knows the creatures will reach him. She knows he will live the same fate as she…” his voice cracked slightly, pulling Virgil from the spell he had seemed to be under.

As the witch focused on the man before him, he noticed the slight gleam in Roman’s eyes. He appeared to be on the verge of tears as he continued his tale, although Virgil was unsure if it was from being moved by the poem or his own recent trauma.

“Still, she is willing to give everything to provide him with just a brief moment of security. A moment in which he may be able to feel relief from the horrors, a moment where there may live just a little bit of joy in his dark existence. Because in the end, she is not willing to live in a world where he has no joy.”

Silence fell between the two men as Virgil couldn’t help but stare down at the prince, awestruck and a bit concerned. The tears had broken free of the green-brown gaze and began to streak across Roman’s cheeks quietly. A lump formed in Virgil’s throat at the sight, fighting back his own wave of emotion.

Roman always seemed playful and teasing when the two of them were together, it was difficult to remember everything he had gone through during the last few days. Virgil couldn’t imagine the pain he must be feeling and yet, somehow he managed to hide it from the rest of them. No doubt, the dark poem was a vivid reminder of all that he had lost.

“Hey… Listen,” Virgil managed after a long moment, the word coming as a whisper. Despite its barely audible utterance, the sound seemed to pull Roman from his thoughts. The glaze that seemed to have covered his hazel eyes cleared slowly as he blinked slowly. He glanced up at Virgil before ducking his head to quickly wipe away the tears, obviously ashamed of them.

“I’m sorry about your home.” Damn! Virgil was pretty sure that was too blunt. He wasn’t that good at the whole comfort thing. “I’m sure when you finally get back you’ll be able to rebuild. I know it won’t be the same, but at least it's something, right?” Virgil offered.

Roman gave a small snort, still trying to rub the redness from his face. “You’re really bad at this,” he teased lightly, shooting a sly grin up towards the smaller man, though the amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Virgil knew what the prince was doing. He deflected far too often not to be aware when someone else did the same. Still, he could appreciate Roman’s efforts to make him feel a bit more comfortable in the situation, despite that he felt bad for not knowing what to say.

“Thanks, but…” Roman took a shaky breath before pushing to his feet. “I don’t even know how I’m going to get back, much less what I will do when I get there. Honestly, it’s one of the reasons I’m still hanging around you losers,” he teased lightly, shooting another one of those award-winning grins.

“Only one?” Virgil shot back, arching a brow as he offered his own amused grin.

The silence that fell between them this time was nowhere near as melancholy. Instead, the two stood facing one another, only a few feet apart, Virgil’s head tilted up slightly to compensate for Roman’s slight height advantage, the scent of old books working its own form of magic around them.

Despite his inner turmoil, Roman couldn’t help but feel a warmth curling in the pit of his stomach as he met the other man’s gaze. Virgil had a way of making him feel more at ease than anyone the prince had ever met. It was infuriating and interesting, reassuring and stressful; he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to get anything productive done when he felt like this all the time.

Virgil was the first to break eye contact, as usual, clearing his throat as he suddenly found the floor to be the most interesting thing on the planet.

Roman couldn’t help but give a huff of amusement at the response before collecting his cloak from where he had draped it on the counter when they had first walked in. Virgil had the books he had come there for, which meant they should probably be getting on their way.

“You never actually told me where are we headed anyways?”

To be continued...

Taglist:

@hiddendreamer67 @nightashes @aequinoctiale @sumersnowlilly

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omgjasminesimone · 5 years

Text

Running Part 1

Colt x MC (Ellie)

Next Part: Part 2

Author’s Note: Finally, I have an idea for a Colt x MC miniseries! I’ve wanted to write one forever, but had no inspiration until now! This won’t be long, I’m thinking 3 or 4 parts.

Summary: Ellie is forced to ask herself some hard questions after discovering that she’s pregnant with Colt’s baby.

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2200

Ellie paces the bathroom restlessly, chewing on her nails as she waits for her phone to alert her that the five minutes needed for the at home pregnancy test are up. It had taken two missed periods, a month of nausea, and extreme breast sensitivity (She’d discovered that last symptom only last night when Colt had squeezed her breasts roughly as she rode him) to make her confront the possibility that she might be pregnant. God knows it’s not like she and Colt have been careful enough to prevent an unplanned pregnancy in the 3 months since she graduated from Langston and returned to LA.

Ellie had come straight to the rebuilt Kaneko Auto Shop in Gramercy Park from LAX. Her father was very unhappy about it, but despite his many objections when Ellie and Colt got back together her senior year (after Colt deemed that he had laid low long enough and finally showed up unexpectedly at her dorm after almost 3 and half years of radio silence), Detective Wheeler couldn’t stop them. Ellie had a job offer in Boston she had passed up in order to return to LA, to return to Colt. According to her father, she was making a grave mistake.

But Ellie didn’t feel like she was making a mistake, despite the fact that Colt was still involved in crime. With the Brotherhood gone, Colt decided to rebuild the Mercy Park Crew. Ximena had come back, but the rest of the crew consisted of new members. When Ellie couldn’t find a job in LA, she had gotten involved with the shop. Her economics degree was coming in handy as she handled the financials (she also helped cook the books to hide the Mercy Park Crew’s profits under the legitimate auto shop front). Ellie knows she should feel bad about descending back into crime after miraculously getting away with everything she did that last year of high school, but she doesn’t. Especially not with the way Colt looks at her as they work together, like he’s so damn proud he might burst.

Colt smirks widely as Ellie finishes her accounting spreadsheet, that sexy little criminal typing numbers quickly, intensely focused on her task.

“What?” She asks when she notices how he’s looking at her.

“You’re so fucking sexy when you help me steal shit.” Colt responds earnestly.

Ellie laughs, closing her laptop. She scoots over from the desk chair beside him (it doesn’t really fit, the desk clearly made for just one person, but they make it work), perching herself in his lap instead. He wraps his arms around her, the blueprints to the factory he’s targeting are on the desk behind her completely forgotten as his eyes fall to those plump lips of her’s he loves. “It’s me and you baby, running this whole town.” Ellie promises before kissing him roughly, biting his bottom lip harder than she probably should.

But he responds with a pleased groan, using his arm to knock everything from his side of the desk, placing her on top of it and stepping between her legs.

The phone countdown completes with a shrill beep, stunning Ellie out of her reverie. She grabs the pregnancy test off the counter, face falling as she reads the results. Two lines. She’s pregnant.

Ellie takes a seat on the toilet, staring in disbelief at the test still clutched in her hand. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’s only 22. She just graduated from college. Her and Colt have only been back together for 9 months. Colt. Shit. How is she supposed to tell Colt?

Ellie takes some time to compose herself before finally leaving the bathroom, silently creeping back into their bedroom. She slips into bed without waking Colt, quite a feat since Colt is a very light sleeper, always alert, waiting for something bad to happen. She stares at his slumbering form. He’s not exactly peaceful, brow furrowed as if he’s worried about something, but he’s softer when he sleeps. She can almost imagine this version of him as a father, cuddling their little bundle of joy, teaching their daughter or son to ride a bike, helping their child with homework at the kitchen table.

But then Ellie looks around the room. The bars Colt has installed on the windows to prevent anyone from breaking in, the loaded gun he keeps on the nightstand for protection, the drawer where she knows he keeps wads of cash obtained through dishonest means.

This is no environment for a baby, for a child. Ellie worries her bottom lip, flipping onto her back to stare at the ceiling fan slowly twirling above them. She can’t imagine Colt giving up this lifestyle. Not when he sees it as his legacy, his destiny, his only way to feel close to his father. He might give it up for her, and their baby, if she asks. If she begs. But would he secretly resent her?

Ellie doesn’t get any sleep that night, her mind goes at a hundred miles per hour, thinking too much as always. Light trails through the thin curtains as dawn breaks. Ellie flinches in surprise when Colt’s arm wraps around her, not having heard him wake up and stretch as she was lost in her thoughts.

“What’s got you so jumpy?” Colt asks, yawning as he fully wakes up.

Ellie ignores his question, rolling over to face him and staring into his brown eyes. His eyes narrow as she looks at him like that, quickly becoming uncomfortable with her intense stare. “Seriously, what’s wrong with you?” He prompts.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ellie responds after several moments, weaving her fingers into his thick dark hair.

“If I say no, are you actually not going to ask?” Colt questions.

Ellie smiles softly at his smart aleck response, thumb rubbing soft circles at the top of his neck. “It’s kind of a heavy question.” She admits softly.

“Just tell me all ready. Then we can take care of this.” Colt replies impatiently, his hand balling into the front of his t-shirt that she’s wearing, pulling her flush against him and his morning wood.

“At the casino….that night….” Ellie trails off as Colt’s face hardens, his desire forgotten as he flashes back to his botched plan to take out the Brotherhood and his father’s untimely demise. They don’t talk about this often. Ellie swallows, forcing herself to continue. “If Logan hadn’t been there, would you have opened that vault door Colt?” Ellie questions, watching as Colt internally panics.

After a few moments, she grips his chin, pulling him into a bruising kiss. Colt deepens the kiss, tongue delving into the wet cavern of her mouth. He starts to tug at her borrowed shirt, but she pulls away, brown eyes fluttering open to stare into his own. “It’s okay if the answer is no. I just want to know. It’s something I’ve been thinking about.” Ellie confesses.

Colt licks his suddenly dry lips, thinking. “Are you asking if I’d open that door, knowing that my dad would die?” Colt asks.

Ellie winces, feeling guilty even though Colt has assured her time and time again that he doesn’t blame her for what happened to his father. “No, not knowing the future. Just in that moment, would you have opened the door?” She presses.

“That’s a stupid question. I don’t like fucked up hypothetical questions.” Colt replies defensively.

“….I don’t think you would have. Maybe now you would, but not then. You didn’t try to check on me after, you went straight to try to close the door.” Ellie remembers.

Colt glares. “Logan had you, I didn’t need to check on you. That was my last chance to get the plan back on track-“ He tries to explain, but she interrupts.

“It’s fine Colt. I’m not mad. I just think it’s something I needed to know for sure.”

“Why are you even asking me this? What, do you think Logan loves you more? Are you going to find that asshole and leave me?” Colt asks, anger breaking through the calm tone he’s trying to maintain.

“Hey.” Ellie soothes, pulling him into a soft kiss to try to calm him. “This isn’t about Logan. I chose you. I’ll always choose you.” Ellie assures.

Colt calms slightly, tangling his hands into her dark hair. “I do love you Ellie, you know that right? I loved you then too, even if I didn’t know it yet. I was young and dumb back then, and honestly I probably wouldn’t have opened the door. But I’m glad I didn’t have to make that decision, because it would have been the worst mistake of my life. I love you baby, so much.”

Ellie smiles softly as Colt pulls her into another deep kiss by the back of her neck. “I love you too Colt, always. You know, I think the fact that you wouldn’t have opened that door is part of why I chose you over Logan. I know you love me, but I’m not your everything. That’s too much pressure for me, being the center of someone’s universe. You could live without me.” Ellie reveals when she pulls away.

Colt frowns at that, looking at her closely. What’s going on with her? “I might be capable of living without you, but I wouldn’t want to. You know that, right?” Colt implores.

Ellie nods. “I know.”

“Seriously Ellie, what’s going on? Did you get a job offer across the country?”

“No.” Ellie answers.

“Did your dad finally convince you to move back in with him?” He guesses.

“No, Colt. It’s nothing.” She sits up, pulling her hair out of her messy bun and starting to braid it.

Colt sits up with her, grabbing her arm and turning her to look at him. “Are you pregnant?” Her eyes widen a fraction of an inch before she gets her expression back under control, but he catches it. “You’re pregnant.” He repeats, not a question this time.

“I took a couple of pregnancy tests last night. They’re all positive. I….I’m going to have this baby Colt. Even though I know we’re not ready.” Ellie insists, looking at him nervously.

“Of course we’re having this baby.” Colt echoes, surprising her with the unmasked affection in his tone. He places his hands on her still flat stomach, caressing her affectionately. “We love each other, and we’ll love this baby.”

“How are we going to support a baby?” Ellie questions.

Colt arches a brow. “What do you mean? Everything is going really well with the crew. We’ll keep doing what we’re doing, stealing cars from the manufacturers, selling them on the black market. Using the autobody shop as a front.”

“Colt, we can’t keep living like this with a baby. What if we get caught, what if we go to jail? You want our kid to grow up in foster care?”

Colt rolls his eyes. “In the unlikely event we got caught, I would take the fall. And in the even more unlikely case that we both do go down, your dad wouldn’t let his grandkid go to foster care.”

“You’d want my dad to raise our child?” Ellie asks incredulously. Detective Wheeler is not a fan of Colt, and the hatred goes both ways. Colt and her father have only met once, but once was more than enough.

“Obviously not ideal, but I’m just going with your ridiculous hypothetical. I have no intention of getting caught and having someone else raise our child.” Colt defends.

“Colt, we can’t just hope for the best. We need to be realistic. I can’t do this with you if you’re not willing to leave this lifestyle behind.” Ellie reveals, tears welling in her eyes as his face becomes impassive.

She knows she’s asking a lot from him. Colt never went back to college, he’d put so much time and effort into rebuilding the crew. He loves this lifestyle, had chosen it despite all his dad had done to keep him out. But she can’t bring her child into this. Sure, this whole life of crime had been exhilarating, her adrenaline spiked when they raced at various drag shows, when they pulled off a huge score, when they got away with it day after day. But it’s time to grow up now, to be serious and practical.

“…It’s already too late for me to get out Ellie. What, you think I can just walk away and the people I’ve crossed are just going to let everything go? They won’t. We need to keep the crew going for protection at this point.”

Ellie gulps, taking in the reality of their situation. Colt takes her into his arms, whispering reassurances into her ear, promising he’ll keep her and their baby safe as he plants kisses along her skin.

But Ellie knows that he can’t promise their safety. And she knows what she has to do now, no matter how much it will kill her.

…

Ellie has just started to show when she turns up on her dad’s porch one month later, she’s three months pregnant now and it’s time to tell her father. He’s none too pleased to find out she’s pregnant with Colt’s baby, but his mood immediately brightens when Ellie reveals that she’s leaving, and that she needs her father’s help to run away.

…

Taglist: @brightpinkpeppercorn @choicesarehard @lovehugsandcandy @desiree-0816 @regina-and-happiness @iplaydrake @hazah @sibella-plays-choices @maxwellsquidsuit @eileendannie @liamzigmichael4ever @lady-dianelewis @client-327 @cora-nova @umiumichan

#ride or die #colt kaneko #colt x mc #playchoices #choices fanfiction

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fallenangelsjenniferanddani · 5 years

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~~Fallen Angels~~ Chapter 2- Partners

Chapter 2-Partners

Find Chapter One here- “When the FBI Comes Knocking.”

💕 Want to follow our page so you don’t miss any new updates? Click here. This will bring you to one of our sneak preview posts, scroll through to check out all of our content and more previews!! This is just the second chapter, so keep your eye out for more. :)

Hope you enjoy-Dani and Jenn <3 (( @jlpplays1 + @justdani14 )) :*

~~~

MC: Ellie Wheeler Language, adult, I don’t own their characters. Just borrowing them for our story.

Angry tears spill on my cheeks but I’m too mad to wipe them away. I don’t care that the agents are watching us, I need answers and I need them now. “They found me in New York. They offered me immunity from past crimes to do this.” Logan murmurs in a soothing voice. “Have you lost your fucking mind?” I snap.

“No. I’m doing this for you. For us. You told me to come find you. Well this is the only way. I didn’t want you involved at all!” He looks at me softly before snapping, glaring at Agent Shipley and Agent McKenzie venomously. “She forced our hand. She’s already involved. Rubbing elbows with them, she’s already in. She might as well help.” Agent McKenzie says sadly looking from Logan back to me. “We know this isn’t want you wanted neither did we, but we need help and Ellie can do that.” Agent Shipley says quietly. “This isn’t the crew she knows. They’re the scum of the earth. If something happens to her, it’s on us!” Logan says raising his voice pointing at both of them. “What were you thinking Ellie?! Do you think I could live if something happened to you? What did I spend the last year trying to protect you for?!” His anger is directed at me now. I flinch at it, he’s never yelled at me before. Sighing still seething Logan looks out the window before saying, “Can we get a minute Rebecca and Evan?”

“Sure.” They both murmur at the same time. I see Agent McKenzie pat my knee and Agent Shipley squeeze my shoulder. They both slip out the front door quietly.

After a couple minutes I break down in sobs. Heart wrenching sobs that feel like I’m tearing inside. It’s all too much.. the arrest, the FBI, and now Logan.

I curl up into a ball on the couch. I feel Logan’s hands on my face wiping my tears. I relish the feel of his hands on me. I pull him closer desperately wanting more, needing more. He obliges without hesitation crushing me to his strong chest. We hold each other until my tears are dry. “Why Ellie, just tell me why you were doing this?” He whispers in my ear. “It’s the only way I feel close to you.” I whisper into his neck. I feel him shudder holding me tighter. “You weren’t doing this for me, you were doing this for yourself.” He says softly. “What would you know about it?!” I scream. Anger coursing through me, I push him away. I can’t think when he’s this close. I thought I’d be happy when we saw each other again. Instead months of pent up emotions come at me all at once. Most of them are not happy, they’re angry. He looks sad and disappointed. I look away... I can’t stand the look in his eyes. I hear him say, “I know you Ellie.. this isn’t you.” “No you knew the old me.” I say looking into his eyes. “That girl is long gone.” “So this is it?” He whispers. I shrug, “You need an in with this crew and I have that, you need me.” “I’ll call your dad.” He threatens eyes hardening. After everything we’ve been through he never looked at me with real anger before. He thinks he can call my bluff but he can’t scare me. “Go ahead, I’m sure Agent Shipley and Agent McKenzie would love to hear you compromised their case.” I say with a dead pan expression. “You wouldn’t dare.” He mutters, tensing. “Oh Logan you really don’t know me at all do you?” We stare each other down. “You’re right I don’t know you. The old Ellie would do anything for her friends, but she was smart.” As he says it he turns away from me. Putting space between us. Just then the door opens and the agents walk back in and I’m saved from answering. “Everything okay here?” Agent Shipley asks. “Yes.” Logan and I say at the same time. Clearing my throat I add, “I have some conditions before we get started.” “Conditions? Such as?” McKenzie says raising an eyebrow before looking at her partner in disbelief. He looks back at both of us and chuckles. “I think you met your match Bec. All right I’ll bite, what conditions?” He says with laughter in his eyes. “I need in writing that Mona goes free. That Logan and my record is expunged. I also want to recruit Colt Kaneko if he agrees.” I say calmly not daring to look at Logan. “Why would we do that?” Logan asks looking angry. “We need people we can trust. We can trust Colt.” I say matter a fact. “Done. We’ll have the paper work ready by tomorrow. As for Colt Kaneko we can’t guarantee that’ll he agree but I think it’s smart to try.” McKenzie says looking at me with approval, almost like pride. I sigh with relief before saying, “I’ll talk to him. I’ll go to LA. School is done in a couple days for the summer. I’ll make up some excuse to my dad about needing to stay for summer classes. Then I’ll come back here in a couple days.” “Good, the sooner we get started the better. You’re both going undercover to try to be a part of this new crew, if they let you in that is. We’ll take care of the details like where you’re staying and getting your car out of impound.” Shipley says nodding in agreement. “So I don’t get a say in this?” Logan says drawing our attention back to him. “I’m sorry Logan but we need you both. Ellie especially, she knows this world already. She’s made quite a name for herself, some crews have been courting her to join.” Shipley says shrugging apologetic. “I’m sorry Logan but that’s just the way it is.” McKenzie says calmly. Logan looks at me clearly exasperated before muttering, “Fine I’m going to LA with you then.” “No.” I snap at him. “And why the hell not?” He snaps back at me. “Because it’s stupid for you to go back to LA. Plus you and Colt don’t have the best history.” I say smugly, knowing I’m right. ‘I can’t handle being around you right now,’ I want to add but don’t.

“I wonder who’s fault was that?” He asks sarcastically rolling his eyes. “Omg it was a kiss and I was upset you with you for lying to me. Plus you guys couldn’t stand each other from the beginning.” I say, frustrated for having to defend myself. I continue on, “You know what I’m not getting into this. We need to learn how to work together again or were screwed.”

“Fine.” Logan says snapping his mouth shut in a hard line. McKenzie and Shipley both look at us with a mixture of amusement and exasperation before Shipley speaks up again, “Well I’ll go to LA with you Ellie. We can divide and conquer. As a team.” “Right.” I say looking at Logan. “Look you guys I know there’s a lot of history here but can you put that aside? Once we’re in, you can’t back out. Our lives will depend on working together.” Shipley says staring down Logan and I. He looks more serious then I’ve seen him in the last couple hours. “Evan is right. We can’t waste any time and we can’t involve you if you can’t work together. We’ve been working on this case for a year.” McKenzie says crossing her arms in front of her chest. I sigh deeply meeting Logan’s eyes heart aching, “We can do this, right Logan?” He softens, “Yea we can.” I turn away.

“Right I…umm…better get going. I’ll see you guys tomorrow Agent Shipley, Agent McKenzie, Logan.” I murmur feeling anxious. “No more Shipley or McKenzie we use our first names from now on. We’re partners plus you’ll blow our cover otherwise.” He says smiling, extending his hand to shake mine. “Partners.” I say smiling shaking his and Rebecca’s hands. Before turning to Logan feeling awkward. He steps towards me like he’s going to caress my face but he drops his hands at the last second. We stare at each other for beat and look away. Rebecca looks at us doubtfully like she doesn’t think we can do this. “We’ll figure it out I promise.” I say giving her my best reassuring smile before walking out of the apartment.

Making the short walk towards campus, I head to my dorm. Once in my room, I throw myself into my bed and sleep dreamless.

The next day goes by in a flash. I’m able to convince my dad that extra credits will be more beneficial in the long run. He begrudgingly agrees after promising not to work myself too hard and visit.

That night after packing a small carry on I relax on my bed when I hear a knock at my door. “Eve, I told you I don’t want to go to the party.” I say through the door from my bed. “It’s me Ellie, can you open the door.” Logan’s voice sounds through the door. I jump off of my bed in surprise. Looking at myself in the mirror, before chastising myself for doing it. I take a deep breath and open the door.

The sight of him leaning on the frame of the door makes me weak in the knees. “Can I come in?” He finally asks clearing his throat. “Right yesss of course!” I feel anxious, worried we’ll start arguing again. I walk to my bed and sit down as he closes the door behind him. I watch him carefully. He looks different, not just his hair and clothes but his body. I gulp. He was always sexy but his muscles are bigger more defined now. Straining under his t-shirt. Once the door is shut and locked he turns to me with a goofy smile. Making me smile in return putting me at ease. “What is it?” I say curious at his reaction. “Oh I just can’t believe I’m here in your dorm. I’ve thought about this a lot.” He says with a chuckle. A wicked glint in his beautiful blue eyes. I start to laugh throwing a pillow at him before saying, “I bet you did!” “Come on Ellie not just for that… I missed you okay?” He says throwing the pillow back at me smiling softly. “Uh huh sure!” I throw more pillows at him with more force, laughing- ensuing an all out pillow war. We continue on like this until all of the pillows have landed on the floor. As I lean back, he grabs one last pillow above my head and I find myself under him. His hard body is pressed into mine. His gaze lands on me.

Life starts moving in slow motion.

Hands wrapped around my wrists, his eyes connect with mine as he brings my hands above my head. He’s being gentle enough that I could break free if I wanted to, but the thing is- I don’t.

Brushing a strand of hair from my face, he whispers softly “I really did miss you.” “I missed you too.” I say softly.

″Yea?” he leans back, eyes vulnerable.

“Yea, more then you’ll ever know.” I whisper softly.

“Show me Ellie, show me how much.” He says nuzzling against my neck.

I lick my lips and run them against his jawline.

I feel him shudder against me, it eggs me on and I slowly kiss my way to his lips.

His breath hitches before I roughly press my lips against his. Logan moans, deepening our kiss.

Our tongues finding each other and I feel myself melt. I bite his lip and suck it, making him pant my name. I lose myself to him as our lips collide again.

Then just as suddenly as it began, it ends.

He releases my hands and moves his body off of mine. I feel the crushing disappointment at the sudden change of mood. I feel awkward at it. Now is not the time to be hashing out your feelings here, we have a job to do. Plain and simple. “So the reason I came here was to ask you,” he clears his throat continuing on, “Is there really is no way to talk you out of this?” He asks, his eyes now boring into mine. “Logan.” I murmur. “No, listen to me,” he takes my hands in his, holding onto them tight. “Is there anyway I can convince you not to do this?” “You know that there isn’t, you said so yourself, there’s no other way. If this is really about us, then we need to do it together. Please understand that.” I plead, holding his hands tight. Sighing he grips my hands before saying, “I understand Ellie. Maybe you’re not so different after all.” “Maybe.” I whisper softly. “I should get going. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He stands abruptly making his way to the door. “Aren’t you going to tell me what’s been going on in the last year with you? How did you get talked into this?” I say urgently, I need to know. “What’s to tell Ellie? We walked away from each other. I vowed to let you go and I didn’t.” He shrugs look away. “Stop it. Don’t be like this.” I say. “Like what?” He asks looking back at me. “Hot and cold. One minute you tell me you missed me, the next you push me away. I can’t do this if you’re like this. We’re going to fail.” I say getting closer to him. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not making this easy for anybody. It’s just so much, I thought I’d say and now in front of you. I just can’t. I’m not ready.” He whispers looking away. I take my hands, putting them on his face, gently forcing him to look at me again before saying, “I get it, we don’t have to do this now. Let’s focus on the case, we’ll work the rest out.” “I can do that.” He says a small smile on his face. “Good.” I smile back. “I really should go though, you’re going to have a big day tomorrow before your flight. Crash course in undercover can be overwhelming, believe me.” He says chucking. “Ok I’ll see you tomorrow, but you’re not off the hook.” I say in a warning tone, poking him in the chest with my finger.” He gently grabs my hand that’s at his chest. “I wouldn’t dream that I would be.” He says laughing, pulling me into a hug. We pull apart after a minute and smile at each other as he gets up to leave. “Should I be worried about the crash course?” I ask feeling nervous. “You’re great at everything troublemaker, I’m sure this won’t be the exception.” He says smiling confidently at me. It brings the sparks of old memories into mind. Past jobs and nights spent in his car... learning to drive, among other things. They fill me with hope because despite it all we make a great team.

We bid good bye to each other and I slide into bed. The smell of his cologne lulls me to sleep. The memories of driving lessons, kisses and his callused hands making me his filling my mind.

~~~

@fallenangelsjenniferanddani

NEXT CHAPTER > Find Chapter Three here- “Crash Course Undercover.”

Logan- What happens when fate brings you back together?

Blast From the Past- letter to logan

#choices #choices ride or die #choices rod #choices stories you play #fallenangelsjenniferanddani #jennanddanicreate #jlpplays1 #justdani14 #playchoices #rod logan #fallen angels jlpplays1 #fallen angels justdani14 #fallen angels original story #ride or die twist of fate #fallen angels chapter 2 #partners chapter 2 fallen angels

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