#Romans chapter 8

[naminethewriter]

On the Road, Just the Two of Us

Chapter Eight: At Our Destination, Not Just the Two of Us

Masterpost | First | Previous | Ao3

Summary: This was written for @dukeceit-week-2024, @dukeceitweek

Janus and Remus are living in a campervan at the moment. Are they going somewhere? Who knows. The only thing that’s important is that they’re together.

Content Warnings: Flirting, Kissing, Bickering between the twins

🌻🌻🌻🌻

“I don’t want this to end,” Remus admitted quietly.

“I know, darling.” Janus didn’t look over at his boyfriend, too focused on the GPS that told him they were only five minutes away from their destination.

“Can’t we just drive past and keep going?”

“No, dear. It was fun and I loathe to admit I wouldn’t mind if this trip was longer, but we need to go back at some point. I can only take off time from work for so long and we do still need the money. Even if we were to live like this full time. I don’t think I’d enjoy it on a permanent basis, actually.”

Remus sighed, leaning heavily into his seat.

“Yeah, I know. Me too, actually. I can’t sculpt like this. Or paint on the scale I’d like. I know it’s for the best, but still… I don’t wanna deal with the responsibilities again.”

“I cannot relate to that at all.” Janus moved his hand to Remus’ thigh and squeezed. “It’s going to be fine. You focus on your art and let me deal with all the annoying paperwork and bills.”

“You’re gonna be busy again,” Remus accused, though it was in a lighter tone. He was indeed upset at that fact, but he also knew that it was necessary.

“Yes. That’s probably not going to change for a long while.”

“I know. It sucks ass.”

“It does.”

The GPS announced the last turn they would have to make before they’d reach their destination at the end of the road.

“We’ll find the time to do something like this again, promise,” Janus said. “Not every year, not even every other year but we’ll do it again.”

“I’ll cut you if we don’t.”

“Sounds fair.”

They drove the last stretch of their journey in silence, just enjoying each other’s company and reflecting on the past three month on their own.

It had been the most freeing time in Janus’ life.

He was going to miss it.

He pulled the van into a free parking spot outside a lovely, old hotel. The location of the wedding.

“Are you ready?” he asked Remus. His boyfriend huffed.

“One last thing.” Remus pulled Janus over to him, practically lifting him from the driver’s seat and onto his lap, before sealing their lips together. It was unusually sweet for him, no tongue involved.

They parted a few minutes later.

“Now I’m ready,” Remus grinned and Janus chuckled.

“Then let’s go.” He leaned over to grab the keys from the ignition before climbing out of Remus’ lap and out of the passenger door. Remus followed after him, but not without commenting on how good his butt looked.

“There you are! Finally!” The car door wasn’t even closed behind them before Roman was stalking over to them, looking close to furious. “Do you have any idea what time it is? You were supposed to be here yesterday!”

“What a nice welcome,” Janus commented dryly, causing Remus to burst out in giggles and Roman to glare at him.

“Sorry, Ro-bro, but we got turned around.”

“Oh, really?” Roman asked, obviously not convinced, his arms crossed.

“No, he saw a flyer for a carnival and begged me to go.”

“It was super fun, I almost puked on one of their rides! So worth it.”

“I cannot believe you two! A carnival, really?! The rehearsal dinner for your wedding is in two hours! Two hours! And you both look like you haven’t showered in a week!”

“Don’t be dramatic, it was only five days.” Roman groaned and Remus smiled at him, delighted by his annoyance.

“I do not know why you didn’t get a better van! One with a shower! Janus is a lawyer for goodness’ sake, you could’ve easily afforded it!”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t the aesthetic we were going for!”

“I am so going to strangle you!”

“Oh, look, the grooms finally made it,” a new voice commented, and Janus turned to see that Virgil, his best man, had joined them. “Roman was going up the walls since yesterday, it was hilarious to watch.”

“I can’t imagine that at all.” Janus smirked. “You seem quite calm though. Usually you would be right there with him, worrying your pretty little head off about everything.” Virgil elbowed him in the arm for that and rolled his eyes.

“Why would I stress myself out about your wedding? You already paid for all of this, so it’s not like it would’ve been a loss for me if you didn’t end up showing. Plus, I know the two of you, of course nothing here would go to plan, especially since Roman did most of the planning. I was sure you’re going to turn up late, if just to spite him. Hell, I wouldn’t put it past you to have arrived here like two days ago and you’ve just stayed in the van ten minutes from here until you could be fashionably late. I’m more surprised you showed up for the rehearsal at all. Second plus, Logan’s been weirdly insistent that you’d be here around this time. I think Remus has been texting him updates.”

“Why should we put so much effort into a wedding Roman wanted more than us? We would have been fine with getting an officiant into our backyard during a barbeque. He insisted on something more ‘meaningful.’” Janus rolled his eyes and Virgil snickered.

“He and his high standards. Anyway, let’s get you inside and under a shower. You reek.”

“Why, thank you Virgil, for telling me that so politely.”

“Fuck off and just come along.”

They started off towards the hotel, closely followed by the twins that were still arguing.

“And what the hell was that text about sunflowers in the bouquet?” Roman huffed, still rather worked up. “You can’t expect me to change that on such short notice! And they would have clashed with the other colors, plus they stand for platonic affection, not romantic!”

“The fuck you mean ‘short notice?’ I asked you about that two and a half months ago!”

“Yes, way too late! I added some sunflowers to the decorations but not the bouquet.”

“Wow, thank you for your sacrifice.”

They continued to bicker like that the entire way. When they reached the entrance to the hotel, Virgil pulled the door open and held it for them all to pass. Janus let the twins go first, since Roman seemed about to explode if he didn’t get Remus ready immediately. Janus watched them disappear further into the building when Virgil lightly shoved his shoulder with his own.

“So, you ready to get married?” he asked.

Janus watched Remus laugh loudly and pulling his brother into a hug and he smiled.

“I was ready to marry him years ago.”

🌻🌻🌻🌻

This is the end of the story! Thank you all so much for reading, reblogging, tagging and commenting 💛💚

[keeps-ache]

hm hm hm !!

[fragilelovelythings]

I printed a mock version of my fic Eunuch Besties for ✨reasons✨

Basically, I wanted to read it on paper and rejoice with the illusion of publishing something for the experience of it.

I fully recommend it ♥️

[thomas-and-the-chocolate-factory]

Thomas and the Chocolate Factory - Chapter 8

A Sanders Sides / Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Fanfiction

Summary: Remus Duke is the greatest chocolatier of all time, and after living the past few years a recluse, he decides to finally open his factory once again. And it's young orphan Thomas Sanders' dream to win a ticket and get to go! Will he win a ticket? And if he does, will he make it out alive?

Masterpost

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The next morning at the orphanage was a blur. Thomas was desperate to get to the factory as quickly as possible, not wanting to risk being late. As soon as his alarm went off in the morning, he ran to the shower. Once he was done, he got dressed as quickly as possible, brushing his teeth at the same time.. He made sure to grab his ticket and put it in his pocket, so he wouldn’t forget it later. Then, he went downstairs, pulling on his shoes as he hopped down to the floor where Dot and Larry’s room was.

Knocked wasn’t the right word. He slammed on the door to Dot and Larry’s room. “It’s Thomas! I’m ready to go!”

The door opened, revealing Larry, pulling on a sweater vest, clearly having just finished getting dressed. “Bit early, isn’t it, kiddo? It’s quarter to nine, the tour isn’t until ten. No need to rush.”

“I know, but I’m really excited and want to get there early! Plus I told a friend I’d meet him there at nine…”

“Okay, okay, let me just finish gathering everything and we can get going. It might be a good idea to get there before a big crowd builds up anyway.” Larry stepped back into the bedroom, picking up his keys, wallet and phone, slipping them into his pocket. He pulled on his coat, stepping over to the bed. He leaned over Dot, kissing her head softly. “See you later, love.”

Dot smiled sleepily up at him, before kissing him back. “Bye, dear. You and Thomas have a good day, alright?”

“Will do,” Larry smiled back, before waving as he walked out the door. He looked down at Thomas. “All ready?”

“Mhm!” Thomas nodded.

“Then let's get going.”

The two headed downstairs, leaving the orphanage and beginning the walk to the Duke chocolate factory. With how close they were, there wasn’t any point in driving. The two talked as they went, most of the conversation being Thomas rambling excitedly about what he thought they’d see in the factory and what Remus Duke would be like. The whole walk, Thomas kept his hand in his pocket, holding tightly onto the ticket so he could be sure it wouldn’t fall out.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive. There were a few people milling around the factory, a couple of news crews setting up, but it was still too early for it to be very busy yet. None of the other ticket winners seemed to be there yet. However, someone else was…

“Nico!” Thomas broke into a run as soon as he saw his friend, waving to him.

“Hey, Thomas!” Nico smiled. “Did you hear the news yesterday about the last ticket being a fake? I got so mad when I found out! To think I’d given up when it was still out there…”

“Actually, about that, I have some awesome news!” Thomas pulled his ticket out of his pocket. “Look what I got!”

Nico’s jaw dropped. “... No. Way.”

“I found it last night! I found some money in the street, and I used it to get some chocolate, and the ticket was inside! So, uh, sorry our plans to hang out today have been ruined…”

Nico let out a laugh. “Thomas, you’re getting to go inside Duke’s factory! I don’t mind if we can’t hang out today, this is so much better! Heck, we’re definitely hanging out tomorrow so you can tell me all about it.”

Thomas smiled, nodding in agreement. “Definitely!”

“Wait wait wait wait! The last ticket was actually won?! Hey, Steve, get over here!” Remy Sleep came jogging over, standing next to Thomas, pointing for the camera man to set up in front of them. “Okay, when you’re all ready, count us in.”

Steve nodded, getting the camera in position. Larry hurried over, seeing Thomas looked a little overwhelmed at suddenly being thrust in front of a camera with no warning, standing just behind him. “It’ll be fine, Thomas, don’t worry.”

“3…2…1…” Steve nodded to Remy as the broadcast began.

The reporter immediately put on a smile. “Hey, babes, I’m here with a surprise broadcast to bring some unexpected news! The final ticket, thought to be lost after the fake claimant was exposed, was actually found! I’m here with the lucky final winner! Tell us all your name, kid.” They held their microphone up to Thomas, who gulped, trying to push down his nerves and smile.

“Th-Thomas Sanders!”

“And this must be your father?” Remy looked up at Larry.

“Oh, ah, no I’m not. I’m Larry Smith, I’m one of the care workers at the local orphanage.”

Remy’s expression immediately softened, smiling mask dropping to genuine compassion as they looked down to Thomas. “You’re an orphan…?”

“Y-yeah… But I’ve lived at the orphanage for pretty much all my life, and Larry and Dot have been the best carers ever!” Thomas smiled. “I couldn’t ask for better parental figures.”

“Aw…” Remy turned back to the camera, putting back on their charismatic persona. “Looks like we have a real underdog story here, folks. So, how’d you end up getting so lucky? What’s the story of how you won the ticket?”

“It’s nothing special really,” Thomas shrugged. “I was just walking home from school yesterday and found some money in a gutter, and figured I could use it to buy a bar of chocolate for the other kids at the orphanage. Then when I was leaving, I heard that the last ticket had been a fake, and I got curious and opened it… and there the ticket was!”

“Nothing special? Winning a ticket when you had such low odds sounds pretty special to me. You’re probably one of the luckiest kids in the world. So, what are you looking forward to most about the tour? Trying a bunch of candy? Meeting the other kids on the tour?”

“I am really looking forward to all that, but what I’m looking forward to most is meeting Mr Duke! I can’t wait to see what he’s like, and find out how he comes up with and creates all those amazing candies! I bet he’s incredible.”

Remy smiled - their smile looked a lot more earnest and warm than when they’d been on screen with all the other ticket winners - and turned back to the camera. “That’s been our interview with the surprise final ticket winner, Thomas Sanders! Keep watching and we’ll keep you updated on the events outside of the Duke factory. For now, back to the studio.”

Steve cut the camera, and Remy turned back to Thomas. “Thanks for the impromptu interview, kid. Have fun on the tour. And apologies in advance if I corner you for an interview afterwards.” They waved, before walking away with the camera man.

“Wow…! You were on TV!” Nico ran back over. “You’re, like, a celebrity now!”

Thomas blushed a little. “I wouldn’t say that…”

Larry put his hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “Sorry to cut your conversation short, but the crowd’s starting to build up now. It’s probably best if we go stand at the gates so we don’t get blocked away by the crowd.”

“Right,” Thomas nodded, before turning back to Nico. “See you tomorrow?”

Nico nodded. “Come round my house around midday. Have fun!”

Thomas waved as he and Larry walked away towards the large factory gates, standing just outside of them. The crowd was forming a semicircle around them, eyes and cameras trained on the boy with the golden ticket in his hands. It was a little overwhelming, but Thomas did his best to keep a smile on his face, wave and show off his ticket. I mean, this was a big day. He may as well help make sure people had good photos of it.

“Excuse me! Out of the way! Duke ticket winner coming through!”

The crowd parted as at the man’s voice, revealing third ticket winner Logan Beauregarde walking into the semicircle. He was wearing a blue coat, black knee high socks, and brown Mary-Jane shoes. As usual, he was chewing the gum in his mouth. Anton Beauregarde was with him, hand on his son’s shoulder, and he huffed as he saw Thomas. “Great, we’re not the first ones here… Well, come on, we need to make sure we get good photos.”

Logan nodded, pulling his ticket from his coat pocket and letting his father guide him over to a cluster of photographers.

Thomas looked up at Larry. “Do you think I should go say hi…?”

Larry shrugged. “It’s up to you, kiddo. I mean, personally… I don’t think I’d even bother with this kid, but it’s your choice.”

Thomas nodded, taking a deep breath and putting a warm smile on his face, before walking up to Logan. “Hi there! I’m Thomas, it’s nice to meet you!”

Logan raised an eyebrow and, despite being shorter, seemed to look down on Thomas. “I’m not here to make friends,” was all he said, before turning back to the crowd.

Thomas blinked. “Oh… w-well, I am! So, uh, whether you like it or not, I’m gonna be nice to you!”

Logan didn’t say anything or even look back at Thomas. Instead, he shuffled a little away from the other boy and closer to his father. Thomas deflated a bit, sighing, before walking back over to Larry.

“No luck?”

“No…”

“Oh well. There’s the other kids you can try to talk to at least? That Patton boy didn’t look so bad.”

Thomas hummed.

“Out the way! MOVE! Daddy, why won’t they let us through?!”

“Patience, little prince, give them a moment to make a path…”

The crowd parted yet again, revealing Roman Salt. He was wearing a red shirt and matching skirt, a black ribbon around his waist tied in a bow at the back, with white knee high socks, and black Mary-Jane shoes. He also had an expensive looking mink fur coat. His father, Romulus Salt, was just behind, phone to his ear and talking into it. As he saw the two other winners, Roman froze, expression souring. He rounded on his father. “You said we’d be the first ones here.”

“I’m sorry, prince, but I couldn’t control the traffic.”

“Then we should have left the hotel earlier!” Roman huffed, folding his arms.

Thomas fiddled, walking over to the boy, a little more nervous and tentative than he was with Logan. “Um, hi there. I’m Thomas. It’s nice to meet you.”

Roman looked Thomas up and down, for a moment seeming almost disgusted by his old worn clothing, before offering his hand for Thomas to shake. “Roman Salt.”

Thomas smiled. Already going better than with Logan. He shook Roman’s hand. “So, are you excited for the tour?”

“Duh, of course I am. Who wouldn’t be?” Roman shrugged, before frowning as he looked over at Logan. “Well, apart from him… Seems more focused on the publicity than the tour itself. I honestly think it’s so unfair that he got a ticket despite barely caring! I mean, neither did that emo kid, but at least he bought a lot of chocolate and actually participated! That four-eyes only bought one bar!”

Thomas frowned at the harsh words, but decided not to bring up the fact Roman technically bought and opened no bars. Instead he just shrugged, saying, “I mean, I only bought one myself…”

“Yeah, but that’s different. You’re poor.”

Thomas winced, but again decided not to remark on the comment. “I wouldn’t say Logan doesn’t care about the tour. In his interview, he seemed pretty passionate about how Mr Duke makes candy, and the special prize at the end.”

“Everyone wants to find out how he makes candy. And the special prize doesn’t count, because I’m getting that, no question.”

“Uh huh…”

Thomas was rather thankful that the conversation was cut short as the crowd began to shift and move once again. A voice with a German accent could be heard inside calling, “Excuse me! Oh, sorry! Just need to squeeze through, sorry, excuse me…”

Eventually, Patton Gloop stepped into the semicircle, letting out a breath as he escaped the crowd. He wore a light blue polo shirt, with a grey cat hoodie tied over his shoulders, and khaki pants. Harley Gloop stepped out just behind him, smoothing the skirt of her dress.

Patton gazed up at the factory in amazement, letting out a small squeal, clapping his hands. Then, his eyes went to Thomas and Roman, and he hurried over. “Hallo! I’m Patton, it’s nice to meet you! You’re Roman, right? Oh, and you must be the person who won the last ticket, right?”

Thomas nodded, smiling at the other boy’s enthusiasm. “Yep! I’m Thomas, it’s nice to meet you too.”

“This is exciting, right? Gosh, I’ve always wanted to go to the Duke factory, and now I finally get the chance! I can’t wait to try all sorts of delicious candy…”

“You sure you need it?” Roman muttered, eyes glancing at Patton’s stomach. Patton flushed a bit, ashamed, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Thomas frowned at Roman, before giving Patton a reassuring smile.

“I want to try a bunch of candy too! How about we go around and try stuff together? It’ll be fun to share what we eat.”

Patton blinked at him, before a small smile appeared on his face. “Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay!”

Thomas looked to Roman. “Do you want to join us?”

Roman hesitated, before huffing. “... Fine. Just so I get to try more candy. I’m not going to give you anything I get for myself.”

Patton looked even more giddy now. “Oh! Should we go ask… it’s Logan, right?”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, it is, but ah…” He hesitated. “I’m not sure if we should bother asking him. I tried to talk to him earlier, but he just told me he’s ‘not here to make friends’.”

“I’d feel bad if we left him out, though,” Patton said. “Maybe if all three of us ask him, he’ll agree?”

“I guess that’s worth a try…”

Patton grinned, before taking both Thomas and Roman’s hands and pulling them in Logan’s direction. Roman yelped in surprise, having tuned out of the conversation and being caught by surprise by the tug. When they reached him, Patton tapped on Logan’s shoulder. Logan turned, huffing a bit as he saw the other three boys, folding his arms. “What do you want?”

“Hallo, I’m Patton! The three of us were wondering if you wanted to hang out with us in the factory? We were planning on sharing candy with each other and stuff. It’ll be fun!”

“I’ve already made it absolutely clear, I don’t care about making friends and ‘hanging out’. My focus needs to be entirely on winning the prize at the end of the tour,” Logan snapped, and was about to turn away from them again, before he noticed Roman rolling his eyes and chuckling. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just the fact you think you’re going to get the special prize. That’s already mine.”

“It is, is it? What, are you going to get your daddy to buy it for you?” Logan teased, smirking. “You can’t just throw your money at Mr Duke, it’s a competition. He’d never pick a spoiled brat like you. Unlike you, I actually deserve it.”

“Deserve it?!” Roman laughed. “Please, you only bought one ticket!”

“Says you, you didn’t buy any! Your dad got them all for you. You couldn’t even be bothered to open them yourself. I put in actual work and research.”

“Well, I heard rumours you hacked into Mr Duke’s computers to find the ticket! I don’t think he’ll appreciate that.” Roman folded his arms, a smug grin on his face. “I’ve got this in the bag.”

Logan’s face flushed a little, and he quickly stuttered out, “Th-that’s just a rumour, it’s not true! And if it was, I-I think he’d think it was resourceful and intelligent. Unlike you, who was lazy-“

Roman let out an offended gasp.

“-exploitative-“

Roman gasped again.

“-and self-centred.”

Roman let out a final gasp. “Oh, I’m self-centred? I’ve never met anyone as arrogant as you!”

“I am not arrogant.”

As the two boy’s argument continued, Patton and Thomas shared a glance. After a silent agreement, they both turned and shuffled away.

“Guess I should have listened to you and not talked to Logan, huh…?” Patton chuckled awkwardly, before sighing. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay,” Thomas reassured. “It was nice of you to want to include him. And you didn’t know it’d lead to… that. And anyway, we can still have fun even if they’re busy fighting.”

Patton nodded, but still looked a little down. Thomas didn’t get a chance to reassure him further, when the crowd started to part yet again, revealing the final ticket winner to arrive. Virgil Teevee had the hood of his purple hoodie pulled up, hands buried in the pockets. He had black headphones on, a black graphic tee with a purple stormcloud logo, black ripped jeans and black combat boots. His mother, Linda Teevee, walked beside him, talking to him.

“Come on, honey, why don’t you pull your hood down so the reporters can take nice pictures?”

Virgil just grumbled, doing the complete opposite and pulling down his hood to cover more of his face as he stepped into the semicircle where the winners were.

Patton tugged Thomas’ sleeve. “Do you think we should go say hi to him? Or do you think he’ll just brush us off and we shouldn’t bother…?”

“I think it’s worth a try!” Thomas said, leading the way over to the emo boy. “Hi, there! I’m Thomas, it’s nice to meet you! And this is Patton.”

“Hallo.” Patton smiled warmly. “We wanted to ask if you want to hang out and share candy with us in the factory?”

Virgil looked between them both, his one eye that wasn’t covered by his purple bangs looking wide with almost fear. He didn’t say anything… before turning away from them both, pulling his phone from his pocket and staring down at it. His finger clicked the button on the side to turn the volume of his music up.

“Virgil, don’t ignore these boys, they’re trying to be nice,” Linda scolded. But she got no response. “Virgil!” Still nothing. She sighed, before looking at Thomas and Patton. “I’m sorry about that, Virgil’s a very… independent boy. It can take a while for him to open up to new friends.”

“That’s okay. The offer still stands if he wants to join us later.”

Linda smiled, nodding. “I’m sure he’ll open up more as the day goes on.”

Thomas turned to Patton, who looked pretty disappointed by Virgil’s rejection. He was about to say something, but was interrupted by a loud creaking. 

A hush fell over the crowd as the noise echoed. Even Logan and Roman stopped fighting, Romulus hung up his phone call, and Virgil looked up from his phone. The kids all returned to stand with the guardians, pulling their golden tickets from their pockets.

The gates of Remus Duke’s chocolate factory were opening.

[lady-starbind]

Happy Sunday!

Here are passages from Romans 15:13 and James 4:7-8 from the King James Version of the Bible, hope these bless your day!

[dwuerch-blog]

This is Just a Chapter

“Well, this is a fine mess!” Isn’t that what we think when life throws us for a loop? Like we’ve stumbled into the wrong chapter of our own story. But hang tight, because shattered dreams are the very pages God uses to write the most incredible comebacks! We’ve all been there—broken relationships, financial upheavals, health struggles, or dreams lost. And in those moments, it’s easy to think,…

[wolfprincesszola]

Echoes of 50 Chapter 8

As always, check the TWs and CWs in the masterlist. As much as I enjoy fluff, there's gotta be a little bit of conflict. Enjoy <3. ——————– Now Playing: Angry by Paravi

<Masterlist>

<Previous Chapter> <Next Chapter> ——————–

There had been an incident. Logan hadn’t been careful. He should have been more careful. Patton and Logan had been on a date together, holding hands with one another. They were going to meet up with Virgil and Roman for a double date–something that both Logan and Virgil had protested to. However, they had managed to pull the two of them in with a simple word: magic. Roman had managed to snag a couple of tickets for the four of them for a convention all about the powers facing the Medeis. Virgil, though an Impoten, had always been interested in seeing what the Medeis could do. In fact, that was one of the biggest reasons Virgil had stuck to Logan’s side whenever he ranted about magic, always interested in seeing how Logan’s powers worked. Logan, of course, was interested in everything related to Medeis, as he was one, though he was mainly drawn into the convention because there was a chance that someone from the government could be there. Maybe he could gain more information about them or if anything, he’d gain more personal knowledge of what the Medeis could do. After all, he only knew as much about telepathy as a 34-year-old could. Roman must’ve known this, for it became the reason he hung over both the men’s heads for this unfortunate double date.

“Are you ready, my love?” Patton hummed as he walked into Logan’s apartment. Logan had long since given Patton the keys to come and go into his house as Patton pleased. “Roman and Virgil are waiting for us outside!”

“Almost. I just need my keys.” Logan darted around to find it on top of the cupboard, just like he always left it. Putting it into his pocket, he finally looked up from his scramble around the house to look at Patton. He blinked, “Woah.”

“Do you like it?” Patton giggled as he gave a spin. Patton was wearing a blue button-up shirt, similar to Patton’s normal polo, but was now also wearing a tan skirt that flowed all the way to his knees. Logan blinked as he grabbed Patton’s hand, bringing him to spin another time as he stared at what Patton’s outfit was. At first glance, Patton’s skirt seemed to be a plain and simple suspender skirt, but Logan pulled his boyfriend in closer to look at the outfit in clearer detail. The suspenders were paws, something that tied the entire outfit together to show it truly was Patton’s style.

“Patton, I-you look spectacular.” Logan managed to stutter out, pointing to the paws, “I like the paws. It really does compliment the ‘Patton’ style.”

“Aw, thank you! I think the suspenders are paw-some too!” Patton grinned, wiggling his eyebrows as soon as he uttered the pun.

Logan’s smitten look immediately shifted into a look of disapproval as he began to fix Patton’s collar. The button-up Patton was wearing allowed for the cover-up of his tattoo and Logan was just fixing it to look a little cleaner than it did at the moment.

“Aw, come on, Lo. Don’t be like that.” Patton pouted as he wrapped his arms around Logan’s shoulder, trying to kiss him, “It was only one pun.”

Logan put a hand on Patton’s lips before he could make contact, “No kisses for the punner.”

“Nooooo.” Patton whined, “Please fur-give me, Logan. I’m fur-real sorry and I hope you will paw-don me.”

“Three puns in one statement is abhorrent to my entire lifestyle, Morris.” Logan rolled his eyes. “You deserve a round of applause for that.”

“A-paws?” Patton grinned.

“No! You know what I mean.” Logan scowled as he looked in the mirror for a final glance. He fixed his hair and adjusted his glasses before he turned to his significant other, “You ready, Patton?”

“My name is Paw-ton Morris, Logan, thank you very much.” Patton grinned, “And I won’t be going anywhere until you give me a kiss.”

Logan stared at Patton in horror, “Absolutely not.”

“At least a smile for a pun then.” Patton grinned, mischief glinting in his eyes. Jeez, he really had it out for Logan today.

“Isn’t it enough that I am forcing myself to spend my time with the insufferable man you call your best friend?” Logan raised an eyebrow, “Roman Prince is not someone I would willingly spend time with otherwise.”

“Oh come on, Logan. You know you love us. All of us. Including Roman.” Patton smiled at his boyfriend. “But please, Logan? Just one kiss.”

Logan sighed, staring at Patton’s puppy dog eyes. Of course he’d never be able to stop himself from saying no to a man who he found he yearned to exist only in the gaze of his.

“Alright, fine, but no more puns until another hour.”

“Oh, Logan, how you wound me.” Patton placed a hand on his forehead dramatically, “But alright, fine. But may I first say how fetching you look?”

With that, Patton tiptoed to press his lips against Logan, causing a smile to grow between both of them.

“There’s the smile I’ve been waiting for.” Patton grinned as he separated from his boyfriend. He adjusted Logan’s tie to be perfect before starting to walk out of the apartment, “Now come on. I did say Virgil and Roman were waiting, didn’t I?”

“Alright, love. I’m coming.” Logan nodded as he went to put on his shoes. It was at that moment that it struck through his head and he groaned as he came out of the apartment. “Fetch-ing? Really? That one was low.”

Patton giggled as he tiptoed to press his lips against Logan’s forehead. “You know you love it.”

Logan huffed, not responding back as he locked the apartment. He turned towards Roman and Virgil, who had been staring at the two men. “Alright, Prince, let’s see what you have planned with this convention.”

“Huh, I was wondering how long it’d take for the Drama Turd to finally recognize that Patton and him are not the only ones in the room.”

God, Logan really missed hanging out with Patton alone. It got rid of having to read between the lines by listening to others’ thoughts. He could just focus on Patton alone.

“Oh, have you guys finally decided to stop acting like newlyweds?” Roman blinked, raising an eyebrow as he mocked them.

Logan raised an eyebrow, motioning to the fact that Roman and Virgil were currently holding hands, “You were saying?”

“That is different.” Virgil glared, “We aren’t like you two.”

“Whatever. Must we continue arguing a pointless battle?” Logan asked, “I would like to hear what is planned in this convention, considering Roman has kept it secret from all of us.”

“Well, I wanted it to be a surprise. Especially for my dear Virgil, who so desperately wants to learn more about the lives of the Medeis, though I wouldn’t imagine why. I, an Impoten at heart, am more than enough for Virgil than any Medeis could be. Patton thought it could be cool to see some magic, and I assumed you would want to talk to other Medeis, considering none of us are like you, Logan.”

“Alright, tone down on the dramatism, Ro.” Virgil rolled his eyes, “Let’s just go, okay? I don’t want to be late.”

“Yes, of course.” Roman blinked as he began to lead the way. “Let’s go!”

Logan sighed as he watched the couple in front of him begin to walk forwards. Logan followed in suit, intertwining his fingers with Patton to make sure Patton wouldn’t leave his side. The man was a wanderer and Logan didn’t need Patton leaving him any time soon. Especially in a place such as a magic convention.

“Hey, Lo?”

“Yes, my love?” Logan asked to acknowledge he was listening.

“What are Medeis and Impotens? I was sort of lost with what Roman was talking about.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Patton. “Have you never heard of them?” “No? Should I have?”

Right. He remembered Patton mentioning he was homeschooled. That might’ve been one of the reasons he didn’t know anything.

“Ah, what Roman was referring to were the magic users in this world. The universe is filled with magic, every part of it. Every human was born with the capability to handle magic because to walk on this Earth is to be able to handle the capacity of Earth’s magic. When time continued to pass and humans continued to evolve from homo neanderthals to homo sapiens, they evolved into two different forms. Medeis and Impotens. Medeis is Latin for magic and refers to the magic users. They had evolved to have the ability to carry the magic of the Earth within their bloodstreams. In that sense, the magic began to be a part of them and Medeis had the ability to cast magic. The magic ranged from telekinesis to the ability to bend certain elements. Impotens, on the other hand, are those who are born without that special element within their bloodstream and therefore cannot use magic in that sense. Impotens is Latin for powerless, which is often why they are called the powerless and Medeis are called the magics.” Logan explained to Patton, “There was a lot of conflict relating to the two of them beforehand, but most of that seems to have died down. There will always be discrimination towards the other, but we, as a society, have done our best to accept the other with open arms.”

“Oh, so does that mean Medeis and Impotens can’t have babies together?”

“They can. It is not up to genetics that determine whether or not someone is a Medeis, but instead it is fate by Earth itself. Unfortunately, that is the way things are.”

“Okay, last question, sorry-”

“Do not be sorry, Patton. I quite enjoy it when you ask me questions.”

“Great!” Patton smiled, “Because I like asking them to you and listening to you explain the topics to me.”

“Go ahead. What’s your question?”

“Roman said you were a Medeis.”

Logan hadn’t had this conversation with Patton yet, though he supposed it was time.

“I am.”

“What’s your power?”

“Telepathy.” Logan let the word slip out of his mouth, though he tried to catch it within his hesitation at first. The word had flown out quickly, but began to slowly float downwards and sink into Patton’s brain. He watched Patton’s expressions shift from confused to terrified to worry to wonder before it landed on an anxiety-filled one.

“You can hear my thoughts?”

“No.” Logan ensured Patton knew that Logan had no access to Patton’s mind. “I do not have access to your thoughts.”

“But…”

“Roman looks so pretty in the sunlight.”

“I hope Virgil likes this convention.”

“Oh shit, I’m going to be late for my date!”

“I wonder when my daughters are coming back to town.”

“I think I love more than those that love me.”

“I need to turn this in. Please focus, brain.”

“Why isn’t she texting me? I’m worried.”

“Fuck. I think I’m in love with her.”

“No, she can’t be dead. She just can’t. My sister just can’t.”

“How do I tell her I can’t afford that?”

Logan nodded as he let the voices flood his mind until he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts. That was the normal for him before he had met Patton. “Everyone’s.”

“Oh.” Patton’s voice quietened down as he began to process what it must be like for Logan. Before either of them could say anything though, they had arrived at the convention and Roman had pulled the other three into the registration line.

“Isn’t this absolutely wonderful, you three? We get to hang out with our bestest friends!” Roman hummed, spinning around where he was. Virgil was trying to calm the energetic man.

“Jeez, Ro. I know that this is a cool thing, but please. I’m trying not to draw attention to myself.”

“I agree with Virgil, Roman.” Logan remarked as the line continued to inch closer to the front, “As much as I am enthusiastic…I’d rather not draw attention to myself.”

“Especially not here, right, L?”

Logan turned to Virgil, sharing a glance with him. Virgil’s thoughts were right. He, especially, didn’t want to draw attention here. Not when he was still uncertain about when the government would strike. If Logan wasn’t careful with his research, he could be miles wrong about the date and time. For all he knew, if he was wrong, the attack could have been at the exact convention they were at.

“Calm down, Logan. I can see your mind racing. Let’s go into this assuming you’re right about the attack date being later down the line, okay?” Logan forced himself to relax his shoulders as he nodded, turning away from the crowd to focus his attention on Patton.

Patton Morris. His amazing boyfriend. The person that made everything feel okay.

When Logan just leaned his head against the man’s shoulder as they were waiting in line, he felt all worries seep away from his body.

“You okay, Lo?”

“Yeah.” Logan exhaled a breath as he pressed his lips against Patton’s forehead before separating from the man and just intertwining their fingers together. Patton always knew how to make him feel better, even if Patton himself was not aware of it.

“If you say so.” Patton murmured. The four continued to discuss with each other until they were at the front of the line. Roman helped with the tickets and proceeded to drag the four of them around the area. Logan and Patton stayed close to the other couple, not wanting to lose any sight of the other two.

They walked around the different exhibits of powers, Logan and Virgil at the front gazing at all the different powers in awe. Once they had explored the front area, Virgil pointed to a small tucked away area.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we go check it out?”

Patton glanced at Logan quickly with an unreadable expression before squeezing onto his hand.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Logan turned towards Patton with worry.

“Nothing, nothing.” Patton shook his head, trying to wipe away his expression with a small smile. Logan studied Patton’s face. He had never seen this face of Patton’s before. Patton was always happy and if he wasn’t, he was sad. Logan had seen Patton angry, upset, disappointed, happy, ecstatic, and disgusted. He had seen Patton go through several emotions, but this one was unfamiliar.

“Are you sure?” Logan lowered his voice, staring at Virgil and Roman who were beginning to head into the tucked away section.

“Yeah.” Patton nodded, his eyes giving away any sign of being fine. Then, an emotion flashed through Patton’s eyes and Logan knew.

Fear. Patton’s face was flooded with fear.

“Virgil, Roman!” Logan called after the couple. When they looked over, Logan yelled back to them, “Patton and I are going to wait outside for you, okay?”

Virgil and Roman walked back over, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Patton shook his head, “Let’s just go in.”

“Pat, we won’t know what’s going on with you unless you tell us.” Roman’s expression softened, “Come on, Padre. We’re all friends and whatever you’re going through, you can tell us. Do you want us to leave?”

Patton shook his head, widening his eyes, “No! That’s far from it. I just need some time to catch my breath. That’s it.”

Lie. Logan had known Patton for enough time and had studied every facial feature, every inch, every quirk of Patton’s to know that Patton tended to bite the inside of his cheek when he was lying.

“Is he lying, Logan?”

Logan met eyes with Roman to give a slight nod, but did nothing else to show that he would suggest to not go along with Patton’s lies.

Patton took a deep breath before turning to Logan, “Come on, Lo. Let’s go see it, okay? I want you to experience everything.”

The fear had washed away from Patton’s eyes. Almost as if it had never happened in the first place. Logan didn’t understand how or why, but all he knew was that Patton was genuinely trying to push away his fear so that he could watch Logan be enthusiastic about the Medeis. It was valliable of him, that was for one thing. Something that he would assume Patton had gotten from spending time with Roman.

“Alright, but the moment you feel as if we should leave, we can.” Logan murmured.

“Okay.” Patton nodded.

Logan walked hand-in-hand with Patton as the four made their way towards the small tucked-in area.

“What could have scared Patton so bad that he wouldn’t want to come into here?”

Logan wondered that too. He stared at Virgil who was glancing back at the two of them before focusing his attention on the exhibit. Unlike all the other exhibits that had someone showing off their powers and how it works for them, this was different. A table was laid out with several different trinkets around, one of which was calling to Logan. There was a device in the middle that Logan was absolutely entranced by. It looked almost like an aura handpan that someone could play. With every step approaching up to the device, Logan could feel a buzzing in his ear. He didn’t remember the last time something like this made him feel like this. Was it wonder? Was it excitement for what was to come? What was it?

“I know the looks of those three.”

Well, there was no doubt he didn’t know that voice, though it didn’t seem as if the stranger's sentiment was shared. Logan was too entranced with the device in front of the table.

“Sanders and Grey. I haven’t seen you two in a bit. You look the exact same as you did in high school. Just with less acne.”

Logan ripped his gaze from the device on the table to finally get a good look at the man at the table. The man was wearing a beige vest over a suit and his glasses fit perfectly on his face. He looked very familiar, that was for sure.

“Do we know him?”

Logan was glad to know that Virgil was on the same wavelength as he was.

“Sorry?” Logan raised an eyebrow. “Do you know us?”

“L! You can’t just say that! I was trying to be subtle!” Virgil internally groaned as he glared at Logan.

“Ah, I bet I look quite different than I did when I was young, don’t I?” The man grinned, “It’s Dr. Somnus, though you may better know me as E.P.”

“Emilie Picani.” Virgil filled in as recognition hit his face.

One of Logan and Virgil’s only other friends. They lost touch after high school graduation, but Logan was glad to know that he was still alive and well.

“Picani.” Virgil gave a small smile, “How have you been?”

“Great. My husband and I are doing amazing.”

“Keep up the act. We need to act upon the first reaction.”

What act? What reaction was Emilie referring to? Logan didn’t even remember Emilie sounding the way he did now in his thoughts. His voice was the same as it was in high school, albeit a little lower pitched, but it was his thoughts that sounded different. Maybe things had truly changed, to the point where Logan couldn’t recognize him. Could thoughts change sound the way voices could?

“Husband?” Logan raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure you remember him. Remy Somnus?”

Patton squeezed Logan’s hand and Logan glanced over to see fear flash over his face. What was going on with Patton? What was going on with Emilie? What was going on with everyone?

“Ah, yes. I remember him. You two were the best of friends. I’m happy to see that’s where everything turned out at the end of the day.” Logan nodded.

“Mind introducing me?” Emilie smiled at Roman and Patton, “You two must be Logan and Virgil’s significant others.”

“Roman Prince. Pleased to meet you.” Roman bowed chivalrously, “I’m Virgil’s boyfriend.”

“Very pleased to meet you, Roman.”

Had Emilie always accentuated the ‘v’ in ‘very’ before? Had he always emphasized his ‘e’s?

“Patton Morris.” Patton managed to mutter out, his voice barely picked up by anyone’s ears. Logan could practically see the thoughts running through Patton’s head, though he had not a clue about what they could be about.

“Morris, huh? What an interesting last name.”

“Is it?” Patton fidgeted nervously, “I’m not sure. I’ve always had it.”

“Not at all. Morris is one of the most prominent surnames. It was ranked #55 here out of 400,980 surnames in the US in 2014. Morris is of Anglo-Norman origin and is derived from Maurice. It has English, Irish, Scottish, and Welsh ori-”

“Does this man ever stop with the droning? Gosh, the memories show he’s always been this way.”

“Thank you, Logan.” Emilie cut him off, looking a little annoyed, “I think we got the message. What I meant by that though was that I knew a boy named Patton Morris when I was younger, though he never liked his surname. Never really liked his real name either. Always went by P.”

Patton shifted uncomfortably as he squeezed onto Logan’s hand. He was beginning to shift himself so that Logan would be in front, almost relying on Logan to keep the distance.

And keep the distance, Logan did.

Logan stepped forward and pointed to the aura handpan that had still been drawing him in like a moth to a flame, “Well now that introductions are done, may I ask what exhibit you have here? Why is it tucked away from the rest?”

“P’s clever, for one. Found a clever man to match his wits.” Emilie’s thoughts were different from how they were before. They had more malice in them than Logan ever thought he could find in Emilie. Emilie was kind at the core of his heart, similar to Patton. Out of all the things he thought, he would’ve never thought Patton wouldn’t immediately get along with the man.

“There will be other exhibits in this area. I’m just a bit early.” Emilie chuckled as he pointed to the instrument. “It’s a handpan. A special one at that.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It acts differently around the Medeis versus the Impotens. Medeis have a special calling to it because it draws the magic within their bloodstream, similar to a magnet.”

Logan raised an eyebrow as he stared at the trinket. There had to be some truth to it, considering how mesmerized Logan had been with the instrument while the others hadn’t even spared a glance.

“Go ahead. Try it out.”

“I wonder what he has in store for us. Maybe P really did finally become useful after all these years.”

Logan knew that voice. That thought. It came from the man in the orange suit. The one that had started all of Logan’s research and theories of rabbit hole evolution. He darted his eyes around, trying to do a quick scan of the area.

Nothing.

No one.

“Logan?” Emilie raised an eyebrow.

Logan cleared his throat, “Apologies. I thought I heard a noise and got distracted.”

“It’s okay. Try it out.”

Logan reached his hand towards the handpan. He knew as soon as he finished entertaining Emilie’s booth, he had to look around for more clues. Just as his fingertips were about to brush onto the pan, Patton stopped Logan, gripping tightly onto Logan’s hand. So tightly Logan was sure it would bruise.

“Pat? What’s wrong?” Logan asked as he turned to Patton in confusion.

“Let’s go home, Logan.” Patton shook his head, an emotion flashing in his eyes that chilled Logan’s spine. Terror.

“And why is that, my dear Patton?” Emilie grinned, “Why would Logan tapping the pan ever matter to you?”

“I don’t think it’s worth finding out.” Patton shook his head, his arms practically shaking.

And because Logan trusted Patton and because Logan loved Patton, he brought his hand away from the handpan and nodded.

“Okay, Patton. I’ll follow your lead. Let’s go home.”

“Thank you.” Patton relaxed.

“Either Logan is smarter than he lets on, or our little bird has flown out of the nest.” Emilie’s thoughts were hostile and invasive. Logan was beginning to think that he wasn’t the boy that Logan had become friends with all those years ago.

“We have enough evidence that it’s him. Let’s get P before he gets away from our grasp once more.”

Logan raised an eyebrow as he turned to squeeze onto Patton’s hand. Patton began to pull Logan out of the convention, and quickly at that. Virgil and Roman called after them, but Logan was trying to keep up with Patton’s pace. Something was happening with Patton and Logan desperately wished that he could hear what Patton was saying. Maybe then, he’d know how to help him.

Then, time stopped in front of them. Everything quietened down as the crowd noise died down, as did most of the thoughts from the crowd. From what Logan could hear, there were a few other people that were also unfrozen as their thoughts were still whirling with ways to try and corner the couple. Logan stared at those around him. Only he and Patton were moving. Everyone else was frozen. Patton stopped in his tracks and Logan took that time to fully look around. Roman and Virgil were behind them, frozen as they were midway calling for Patton and Logan. Logan hadn’t even noticed their calling with how much noise there was around him. The crowd and the thoughts from everyone whirling around him. Logan observed those around him as he held onto Patton. Patton was shaking in place, glancing around. Logan continued to stare in wonder at how the power of this Medeis worked, whoever they were.

“Patton?” Logan turned towards his boyfriend.

“Stay alert, Logan.” Patton murmured, “And whatever happens, follow my lead.”

“Most likely, P will know how to avoid us, but it does not mean that his little boyfriend does. If we can capture Logan, then we can catch P off guard.” The voice was different from anyone Logan had ever heard.

“Let’s try a diplomatic way first. We still don’t really know what Logan is capable of. The memories of E aren’t serving us well either.” Emilie’s thoughts came through and Logan turned towards the source to find Emilie smiling at them.

“Logan, Patton, let’s talk about this.”

The first thing that threw Logan off was the fact that Emilie was here. Emilie was an Impoten. It would make sense if the Medeis who stopped time excluded Emilie from it, but Emilie was far from someone who would be a part of a scheme to capture Logan and Patton. Emilie was kind, similar to Patton. This was nothing like how Emilie was.

“No.” Patton stepped in front of Logan to protect him, despite shaking.

“It is you, isn’t it, P?” Emilie’s eyes softened, “Come on, you know me.”

“No, I don’t.” Patton shook his head, “You are not E.”

E and P. Logan knew it was their first initial, but he still didn’t understand what the correlation was for everything. He was trying to wrap his head. He knew Patton was involved with all of his research. If he was correct, then would Patton be Patient 50? It made sense with all of the hexadecimal jargon Patton was always spouting off. Then, would Emilie be one of the subjects Logan had seen throughout the journals? Would that even be the correlation?

“Maybe P will believe me if I lay it on thick. Or maybe I should just dig it into his skin that it was his fault.”

“Now why would you say that?” Emilie tsked, frowning, “I’m the same E I’ve always been.”

“I know it’s you, Joan.”

“50 was always smarter than 45 or 52.”

“Hm. I never could get anything past you.” Emilie smirked, their entire facade changing as they morphed back into what Logan would assume was their true form. “Congrats, P, you always were more clever than you let on.”

“You morphed into Emilie. Of course I’d know.” Patton scoffed. “And it’s Patton.”

“Hm.” Joan made an unamused scoff, “Come on then, Patton. It’s time to come back to the nest before the ones you love get hurt again.”

“They have already been hurt.” Patton glared at Joan. This was a new side of Patton that Logan was now seeing. It was one filled with anger and hurt, and one that was hostile.

“Now you know that’s not what I meant.” Joan sighed as they snapped their fingers. Almost immediately, an entire group appeared before all of their eyes. Every single one of them held out a gun, a gadget Logan was too similar with. Joan, too, had taken out one from their pockets as well. The guns were banned a few years ago for cruelty as they could temporarily disable a Medeis’ power. Logan began to wonder if Patton was truly an Impoten as he had implied it all of this time.

Logan couldn’t recognize any of them besides the one that stood to the right of Joan’s side. The man in the orange suit.

“I’m sorry for what’s about to happen.” Almost all the people had thought at the same time. All except the man in the orange suit. Logan stared at the man, trying to understand who everyone was and what they all meant.

“Logan, duck!” Patton yelled before anything could happen. Logan did just that right as everyone shot at the two of them. It was clear that no one truly knew what Logan’s power was, but knew just that he was a Medeis. He could hear the man in the orange suit’s thoughts crossing off abilities that Logan could have had as they continued to dodge each other.

“Patton, what-” Logan began as the two of them began to make a dash for the exit. If there was any way Logan was thinking of getting out of this conundrum with Patton by his side, it would be by running out of the convention until they lost the entire group.

“Just trust me, Logan.” Patton shook his head, “And dodge all the attacks as best as you can. Use your power to your advantage.”

“What?” Logan replied incredulously.

“We should take another shot at them. I need to tell Talyn to line everyone up once more. I can get them to teleport everyone at once.” Joan had thought.

Oh. That’s what Patton had meant.

While Patton knew everyone and had the advantage to try and dodge all the attacks, Logan didn’t. Though Logan had assumed his power to always be an inconvenience, he guessed that it was better for spontaneous actions. Everyone always thought about what they were going to do before they did them. That’s what Patton was referring to. Listen to what everyone was going to do and dodge them before they could happen.

Logan ran to the right just as Patton had run to the left, effectively splitting up the group. When Talyn–whoever that was–had teleported half of the group to each person, Logan was able to dodge the attacks from the gun more effectively. Now, all he had to do was figure out who each person was and what they did.

“He’s not making this easy.”

“Maybe I should try to rush them without the others.”

“How is he able to predict our moves?”

Logan didn’t like any of the noise. He barely even liked hanging around in crowds, so it was hard to concentrate on his actions while listening to everyone’s thoughts. He was trying to figure out what to do. It also didn’t help that the man in the orange suit was getting closer to figuring out what Logan’s power was. However, Logan was also getting closer to figuring out what everyone did and who everyone was.

Joan. Shapeshifting. Talyn. Teleportation. Valerie. Stopping time. Terrence. Impoten. Dalton. Impoten. Dahlia. Impoten. Quil. Fire manipulation. There were too many powers and too many Impoten to really count.

“Telepathy.” The man in the orange suit had finally figured out.

Patton and Logan both knew that they couldn’t tire the others out though, and that they’d need to find a new plan soon enough if they wanted to get out. They were trapped as they were right now. Then, Logan remembered something.

“Patton, the handpan!” Logan yelled.

He watched as Patton began to think about what Logan was saying. The gears began turning in Patton’s head until he came to an idea and nodded as he went to retrieve the device. Logan was left unknown to the plan as once again, he wondered what went on in Patton’s head. All Logan knew was that Patton was smarter than he let on, even to Logan. It probably came from a sense of urgency and needing to learn to be smart in order to survive. It was about ten minutes of Logan dodging attack after attack when there was a noise. A note to be specific.

C-sharp.

And then another note. E.

Then another. A.

Then, a melody began to play throughout the halls of the convention. Through the crowd of frozen people. Something that Logan knew all too well.

“Why are there so many songs about rainbows? What’s on the other side?” Patton sang, the harmony traveling throughout the entire place.

There was a buzzing in Logan’s ears. He felt drawn to the device that Patton was playing. He could tell the other Medeis were too.

“Someone needs to get him to stop playing that before we’re all affected.”

“I need to touch the pan.”

“I will die if I don’t play the handpan for myself.”

Logan could relate to those thinking about the pan because it was hard to resist himself. Almost everyone was in a trance except for those that were Impotens. Logan’s feet began to travel towards the sound. Though the Impotens tried to hold onto Logan or to pull their teammates back, the Medeis were stronger. They always had been. Patton was in view now as he continued to sing.

“I can’t keep myself from walking. Is this what Phobus meant by others being impossible to resist?”

Who was Phobus?

“I need to stop before I touch it. No one else knows what it does.”

“Why aren’t any of the Impotens trying to wrestle him away?”

Logan searched around for the Impotens. They weren’t able to keep up with the speed and strength of the Medeis as the Medeis continued to try and go towards the handpan. They seemed to be more concerned with their teammates not touching it over stopping Patton or capturing Logan. In fact, stopping Patton seemed to be something they couldn’t do as they also couldn’t wrestle Patton away from the handpan. The only person that didn’t seem to be doing anything was the man in the orange suit. All he was doing was smirking and watching what was happening.

“Interesting. I can’t wait to see what this holds for us in the future.”

This was part of the man in the orange suit’s plan. That was what terrified Logan. If the man in the orange suit was going along with this, then what truly had he planned for the demise of all Medeis? And why was he having Medeis working for him if he truly hated them?

Logan got to the handpan, staring at it. He could resist it for as long as possible, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to any longer soon enough.

“Logan, I’m sorry for this. Try not to be too alarmed by what will happen next.” Patton’s voice came through. Had Patton moved his mouth? How had he said that as he was singing? Did Logan just imagine Patton’s thoughts? That had to be it.

“I’ll see you soon, Logan. You are an interesting man and an integral part of our plan.” The man in the orange suit spoke in his mind.

Valerie and Talyn got to the handpan next and began to reach towards the pan. Logan felt his hand reaching for it too. The three of them touched the handpan at the same time and immediately, Logan felt a sharp ringing go through his ears. He clutched his ears in pain, trying to silence the ringing. Patton stopped playing as the Medeis all began to touch the pan and grabbed Logan. Logan’s vision began to blur as Patton dragged Logan away from the noise. Logan could still hear noises, but no longer voices. There were no voices, no thoughts. Instead, all he could hear was random notes on the handpan playing with every touch a Medeis gave to them. Then, Logan heard time begin once more as the crowd began to fill his ears.

And then, nothing.

Nothing at all.

It was completely quiet.

Why was it quiet? It didn’t make sense why it could be so quiet. He should’ve heard noises. Anything. Thoughts especially. Why couldn’t he hear anything?

“Logan, breathe. You’re okay.” Patton’s voice broke through.

Logan looked up, trying to see who was next to him. Who was holding onto his arm at the moment? But he couldn’t. There was nothing there. No one.

Breathe. He needed to breathe. Then, he’d be able to see.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Why couldn’t he just fucking breathe? What was wrong with him? It was a simple task. He had known how to do it since he first came out of the womb. Why wasn’t his breathing techniques working? What was happening to him? Was this how it felt to die? Was he dying? Where was Roman? Where was Virgil? Was that really Patton next to him? What was happening back at the convention? Was he going to die had he been caught? Were they safe? Where was he?

There was something cold on his face.

Logan blinked away the tears that threatened to spill his face as he forced himself to focus his vision. It was Patton. There was an ice pack on his face. They were in his apartment. A weight began to rest on his lap and he looked down to see Luna. She was quiet but she laid on his lap, purring only when Logan began to pet her. With Logan’s free hand, Patton placed it onto Patton’s heart.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Patton’s heart was slowly becoming more steady, probably from the adrenaline. Logan began to listen to it and realized Patton’s heartbeat was syncing into its resting rate, just like Logan’s.

“Breathe with me, my love.” Patton whispered as he began to take steady breaths. Logan followed suit, questions whirling in his head still. He had so much to ask Patton. Still, he waited, letting Patton help him through the panic attack. When Logan’s breathing had returned to normal, Patton looked at him cautiously, “How are you feeling?”

“What was that?” Logan began, his voice hoarse.

Patton was quiet at that. Logan wished he could hear what was going on in Patton’s head. He just wanted some answers.

“Patton, what was that?” “It was a handpan. One that takes away the Medeis’ powers temporarily.” Patton’s tone was soft while the news he dealt was hard. “It gives it to those that don’t have powers. Impotens.”

“How do you know this, Patton?” Logan wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer. “And how did you not know about the Medeis or Impotens if you know about this?”

“I knew about magic users and non-magic users. I didn’t know the terms or how they worked, not the way that you did.” Patton murmured. Logan swore Patton had this incessant need to not answer the most important questions, especially when it pertained to his past.

“You’re mad at me.” Patton stared at Logan.

“I’m not mad at you.” Logan let the lie sit on his tongue, festering in his frustration. It wasn’t anger that Logan had towards Patton. It was frustration. Frustration that he didn’t know anything about Patton. Frustration that he should’ve been able to protect Patton. Frustration that he should’ve known what could happen at the convention and stopped it. Frustration that everything was turning upside down. Frustration that he had touched the pan, because as much as he hated his telepathic powers, it was a part of him. He had lived with it all his life and to hear complete silence was deafeningly lonely. He had learned to think with noise in the background. He had grown up with noise in the background. It was difficult to accept that even if it was temporary, Logan missed the noise in the background. He missed being able to hear about others’ thoughts because he had learned to live with it as a part of him. It felt as if a hole had grown in his chest when it was gone.

“I know you are.”

“Right.” Logan sighed, “You can hear my thoughts.”

“It’s okay to be mad.”

“I’m not really mad.” Logan groaned. “I really am not. I’m more frustrated.”

“It’ll come back. Your powers.”

“That’s not why I’m frustrated.” Logan sighed. He just yearned to know everything about Patton. What made him tick. And sure, Logan knew how Patton acted the way he did, but he didn’t know why. Was there someone that hurt him in the past to make him as kind as he was? Was it just a character Patton was playing for the government to keep him from that? Logan had continued to research Patient 50, but every time, it brought him back to Patton. He didn’t understand what correlation they had with each other, or if Patton was truly Patient 50, but he did know that whatever he was looking for, it was whatever Patient 50 was thinking. Maybe it was selfish of him, but Logan had accepted that part of him. Logan was selfish in both wanting to know everything about Patton and the way he thought and also in wanting to know everything about what Patient 50 was thinking. After all, he loved Patton dearly and he wanted to find a way to stop the Impotens from hurting the Medeis. If they were to be so interconnected to each other, it would make Logan’s life a lot easier. To protect the Medeis, to protect Patton, to protect the Impotens, to protect everyone from the government that wanted to hurt them. To protect everyone from the man in the orange suit.

“His name is Phobus Graves.”

“Who?”

“The man in the orange suit. He’s the head of this entire operation.”

He was finally getting somewhere in learning about Patton and his past. The way he thought. The reason Patton was the way he was. And yet, Patton wouldn’t talk to him anymore. Logan saw it in the way Patton’s eyes wavered with terror and fear. Fear of losing Logan. Terror for those people that he had seen.

“It’s not worth knowing, Lo.”

“I want to know though.”

Patton shook his head and Logan looked at the man in front of him. The man that had spilled coffee on him all those months ago. The man who was always so cheerful around him. The man who couldn’t help but make Logan laugh despite his need for a serious facade. The man who made Logan’s jaw drop at how gorgeous he could be. The man who got Logan to dance in his apartment with no care about who was watching. The man who got Logan to make puns with him in the private access of their room. The man who had redefined love for Logan.

“Patton, I do not think you understand what it feels like to like someone so much that they infect every part of your mind.”

“I’m sorry, Logan. I’m not sure I understand.”

“I know you can hear what I’m thinking. I know you know what I feel about you. I want you to inconvenience me. I want to be burdened with everything you talk to me about. It feels as if I can’t do that when you don’t talk to me. I want to hear about your past and who those people were. What did they mean to you? What did they do to you? What can I do to protect you from them? But when you shut me out, when you shut everyone out, I can’t help you.”

“I’m trying to protect you from it, Logan. I suffered through hell for 23 years! It took me so long to build up a life with an identity while living in fear every day of my life and it was just starting to get better. Why would I tell you about something that could hurt you?”

“Because, Patton!” Logan huffed, “I don’t know anything about you. Your past, your parents, nothing! All I know is that you hate the government, you were homeschooled, and that you have this tattoo on the back of your neck that you despise. Everything else, I’m not so sure about.”

“You pretty much have seemed to figure out everything though.”

“I want to learn it through you.”

The two began to raise their voice, not with hostility but with frustration that neither one of them really wanted to feel.

“Fine, Logan! You want to hear the truth? My parents are dead, I watched several of my peers die, and I was forced into a sick and twisted experiment from a young age. I am the only survivor of that experiment and now they’re planning to use me as a weapon! What do you want from me?”

“That! I want that!” Logan pointed out, “I want to be able to hear about that from you. I didn’t think I’d need to have us go through a near-death situation where you had to meet those that hurt you again for you to open up about that!”

“Why? Why do you want to learn about it so much?”

“Because.” Logan yelled out before he stopped. He was getting heated over this. He could tell that Patton was heated too, the anger in their eyes more towards the idea that they were not being listened to, rather than the idea that they were angry at each other. Logan swallowed the lump inside of his throat as he admitted the thing he had yet to tell Patton. The thing he had known from day one, but had always been too scared to say. Waiting for the right time to say it. Waiting until the moment when Patton would say it first. Waiting to see if this truly was what Logan thought it was. Because if it wasn’t, it was going to hurt. A lot. Still, Logan could see Patton trying to understand what Logan was thinking. Logan decided that it was time. That it had already been let out for some time.

He softened his voice as he looked at Patton, “Because I love you. I fucking love you, Patton Morris. You know me. You know I was never too much into romance. I thought I would never find the one for me, and if I did, it would come in my own time. I never sought to search for that. But then…I met you and suddenly I have never wanted to exist for more than to simply be in your gaze. I cannot help but fall apart to think there could be anyone in the world that would fit me better than you could because the truth is that there is none. I would sooner die than to be separated from you, for I hadn’t realized just how lonely the world would be without you in my life. You have brought color back into my life because before I met you, I was nothing. You unwound every part of me until I was nothing left but a puddle of thread in front of me. You make me want to change for the better every single day of my life. I don’t ever want to lose you, Patton, so please. Don’t make me lose you by shutting yourself out. I want to love every part of you: the perfect parts, the flaws, the trauma. Everything. I love you.”

Patton stared at Logan, unsure what to think of the confession. Logan was never one to swear and was never one to be more emotion oriented. But in that moment, he was, and Patton was left to be stunned by Logan’s emotions.

“I love you too, Logan Sanders. A little too much.” Patton gave a small smile, “And maybe, if I love myself more, I’d be able to tell you everything, but I love you too much to hold you back, and I love myself too little to beg you to stay despite my flaws.”

“Patton, I-”

“I think you should rethink your decision to hold onto me.” Patton murmured as he dashed out the apartment, not even letting Logan get a chance to grab onto him and make him stay. The slamming of the door rang louder than the voices that began to return into his head.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 2: What A Great Freakin’ Way To Start The Day

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy,

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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The morning begins the same way it always does, with your neighbor Mike blasting "I Will Always Love You" in his apartment at exactly 8 am just as he had each day since you met two years ago. It was the only constant in your life, but at least you didn't have to use an alarm clock anymore. The sound of Mike belting out the lyrics at the top of his lungs was enough to wake everyone in the whole building, including the people on the eighth floor, five stories above him.

But because Mike bought the super’s probably illegally made cologne and because the super was dating Mike’s mother, something that made you regret supe hearing very much, it never stopped despite the numerous complaints.

Then again it was Annie's favorite thing about sleeping over, she liked to scream the lyrics back at the wall and jump on your bed like a crazy banshee. Honestly you hoped that it would stop after Ben had pretended to be your boyfriend, that Mike would finally figure it out and give up.

Guess not.

You sit up in your bed, stretching your hands over your head while humming the chorus under your breath, but you were more of an ABBA fan. If Mike had decided to serenade you with "Take A Chance On Me" or even Aretha Franklin's "You're All I Need to Get By," you might have looked at him differently.

The memory of the dream of his mullet smothering you in your sleep momentarily passes over your mind, causing a shudder to travel down your spine. Or maybe not.

Your bedroom was similar to your living room, covered in plants. Trailing jasmine and bougainvillea blanketed the wall behind your bed in deep red and white, budding lavender, lilac, and honeysuckle sat in pots along the top of your dresser, and a blush colored rose bush, that never went out of bloom, stood proudly in the corner. The only difference was that there were two large piles of books almost as tall as your ceiling, some old some new, braced beside the rose bush like Roman columns. You kept trying to remember to buy a bookshelf, but each time you thought about going to pick one up, Butcher usually called and asked you to help out. Both piles were covered almost completely in pothos and more hung from the brick walls above your only window, that opened the floor length pale yellow curtains with a flick of your hand.

An annoyed purring sound greets your ears as the honeyed light from the now open window wisps over your covers. Bean, your cat, stalks up from the end of the bed, his yellowed eyes narrowed with annoyance at being woken up so early while his charcoal gray coat turns lighter in the brilliant sunlight. Last night he had been in your bedroom when you got home, which meant that he hadn't been around Ben when he came in.

A good thing, because Bean hated just about everyone except Butcher, which you thought was weird. But whenever Butcher dropped by to talk to you Bean always came over to look for rubs, while hissing at anyone who tried to interrupt them. Hughie was actually afraid of Bean, and because Bean was a cat he immediately picked up on this and purposely would jump on the couch next to Annie so Hughie couldn't sit there, Bean also followed after Hughie to the bathroom and waited outside the door to swipe at his ankles whenever he would come out.

But you didn't love him any less.

He puts his paw on your thigh lightly extending his claws to get your attention.

"Oh are you talking to me now?" You smile, rubbing him behind the ears. "I thought you were angry because I woke you up?"

He purrs and pushes his chunky gray head against your hand, but startles when the song switches to "My Heart Will Go On" which causes Mike's mother to join in to his karaoke session.

I'd move if my apartment wasn't so damn cheap.

"Maybe they should take the show on the road. Huh buddy?"

Bean purrs his response while pushing his head further into your hand.

His mom wasn't that bad of a singer, in fact, you thought that you remembered eavesdropping on a conversation between her and the super when she talked about a career as a cabaret singer a while ago.

"Come on, let's see if Gramps killed any of my plants." You smile down at your cat. "If he did I'm going to turn him into a tree."

Bean purrs in agreement.

You get out of bed, adjusting your shirt back down over your shorts before walking to the door with Bean following behind you. You step out into the cool hallway, with more enthusiasm than usual as you try to escape the butchering of the Titanic's soundtrack and collide into something warm and wet.

It takes you exactly seven seconds to realize that the warm, wet, thing that your face is currently stuck to, is in-fact Ben's chest, his shirtless chest. Why he's standing in the hallway outside your door, soaking wet and wearing a towel you have no idea. All you know is that your face is physically laying against the warm flesh of his pectoral muscles.

"Why are you NAKED?" You scream as you peel yourself off of him and turn your gaze away. Your face felt so warm that it was like you'd been standing in front of a volcano for too long and you were sure that you had blushed to the roots of your hair.

You'd only seen him without his shirt on once, when the door to his bedroom was cracked at the apartment he shared with the rest of the group. But it was from the back and you had been walking by to go to the bathroom, and you hadn't looked…

Well, you may have stopped for a second to admire the powerful muscles on his muscular back and maybe thought about waiting for him to turn around so you could see if the front was as good as the back… but you hadn't.

And he certainly hadn't been soaking wet then, and it made you hate him more now, because no one should look as good as he does soaking wet. You personally knew that you looked like a drowned poodle whenever you stepped out of the shower, but him? Soldier Boy looks like he just finished filming a shampoo commercial.

You could see it in your head, him standing under a crystal blue waterfall with the water splashing against weathered rocks before running through his soft brown hair, curving around his broad shoulders, down his toned stomach straight down to his-

NO. Not gonna go there. You could feel your skin heating in embarrassment, almost as if you thought he could read your mind.

"I'm not naked doll, I mean I could be if you wanted me to." He smirks as he hears your heartbeat begin to pick up and reaches for the end of his towel. The towel that was almost too small to wrap around his waist and left very little to the imagination.

"NO!" You shout holding up a hand to stop him, but again brush the front of his chest.

Fuck, you could zest a lemon on those abs.

"Are you sure?" Ben smiles wider, taking a step forward. He's so close that you can smell your grapefruit mint shampoo on him and feel the humidity and warmth of his body as he stands there. For some reason the fact that he used your shampoo, and smelled like your soap, made you feel warm and tingly. It was almost hypnotic. You hated how much you liked it. "Because you're turning that cute little red color you always do whenever I'm around, and your heartbeat is kinda fast."

"No. I don't." You grit your teeth together. "Why are you standing outside of my door naked?"

"Maybe I was waiting for you to come out." His hand presses against the doorway next to your head. "You know, I already took a shower, but if you wanted I'd be happy to get back in with you."

"No thanks. I don't need a shower and I wouldn't shower with you if it was the last shower on earth and I hadn't bathed in forty years." You purse your lips. "Oh right, that happened to you."

Ben frowns at your mention of his time in Russia. You didn't often tease him about being trapped in a lab, you knew that it was a sore spot for him. Plus you'd seen the footage of exactly what those doctors did to him and it was enough to make you want to book a one way ticket to Russia and personally show them what happened when a tree got shoved up your ass.

You open your mouth to apologize.

"I was going to ask if you have any other clothes here. Mine are still wet from last night." He raises an eyebrow, but the humor is gone from his eyes.

"Oh. Um. I can take a look." You turn and walk into your bedroom, trying not to feel awkward about bringing up the lab.

He was a jerk, but he didn't deserve a reminder of how shitty the last forty years have been.

Truthfully, you weren't sure if you had anything that would fit him. Ben was a lot bigger than you, taller and broader. You usually did wear things that were a little big for you, but you didn't think that Ben would fit in any of them.

Maybe I have something from when my brother was here last time.

Darren often dropped by when he was in the city visiting his friends or had a new "business" venture. The ones that never seemed to last and the friends that always seemed happy to spend the moan you "loaned" him for his "best idea yet" as he always phrased it. But he hadn't been by in at least a year.

"It's really green in here too." You hear Ben say under his breath.

You didn't think that he was going to follow you into your room, you thought he was going to stay in the hallway, but no, he had followed you. And he made the room feel even smaller than it was with his broad shoulders and over six foot stature.

The sunlight from the window glinted off his still wet chest and it made your throat uncomfortably tight. For the love of chocolate pudding, WHY does he look so good all the time?

"You can wait in the hall-"

"Wanted to see your bedroom." He smirks. "Though I think that you wanted to show it to me last night-"

You ignore him and turn back to your chest of drawers while Mike and his mother switch to "What Makes You Beautiful" by One Direction. You wince as they begin.

"Do they always do that?" Ben asks.

"Yep. Since I moved in." You sigh, shuffling through your t-shirts.

"He's really got it bad Sweetheart. Maybe you should throw him a bone. Kinda seems like the poor guy needs to get some ass-"

"If it's any of your business- which it's not- I do not like him that way."

"Well they're a little loud." You feel Ben take a step closer to you. "But I bet you and I could give them a run for their money. We are in your bedroom after all, might as well make the most of it."

"I didn't know that you liked Karaoke. I'll keep that in mind for you 105th birthday party."

"What? No I meant-"

Bean purrs loudly from his position on your bed and you wait for the telltale sound of Ben shooing him away when Bean tries to puncture Ben's impenetrable skin with his claws, but it doesn't come.

You glance over your shoulder. Are you kidding me?

Bean is sitting on your white plush comforter, rubbing up against Ben's hand, purring while Ben scratches him behind the ears.

Traitor.

"Didn't know you had a cat." Ben says continuing to stroke his hand down Bean's spine, who stands up and turns so Ben can have a better angle.

"I didn't peg you for a cat person. Kinda ruins the whole all-American Man image you have going on."

He shrugs. "I like dogs more, but I don't hate cats. Usually they don't like me very much."

"I wonder why that is." You grumble watching Bean lean into Ben's hand again. "His name is Bean."

"Bean? Why?"

"Because when I got him I was trying to grow green beans in the linen closet and he would sit outside the door and screech until I gave him a green bean to play with."

"You were trying to grow green beans in the linen closet?"

"Yeah. Seemed like a good idea, but they like the bathroom more-" You finally find the oversized Led Zeppelin shirt your brother left the last time he crashed at your apartment and a pair of jeans. "A lot of my plants like the bathroom more actually."

"I was going to ask you why the bathroom floor and wall was squishy."

"It's moss. It thrives in humid environments." You hold out the clothes for him.

"Uh-huh." He frowns at the clothes for a minute. "So you're saying you wouldn't want a guy to serenade you like that?" Ben nods his head towards your bedroom wall, just as Mike and his mother begin to belt out the chorus. "Thought girls liked sappy shit."

"I'm not a fan of One Direction."

"Right. You like ABBA more." Ben turns towards your door to go back to the bathroom to change.

Shock momentarily spikes in your chest. "How did you know that?"

He freezes as if you caught him doing something bad, turning slightly towards you. "Um- well, you hum their songs a lot."

"When?" You cross your arms over your chest.

"Whenever you're on stake outs. Sometimes when you're reading those files or waiting for Annie at the apartment." He shrugs. “When you were walking last night you were humming ‘Fernando.’"

He noticed that?

"How long exactly were you following me?"

"Long enough." He raises an eyebrow. "Are you trying to keep me talking because you want me to change in here? Because I would be more than happy to drop this towel and show you what a real man looks like Sweetheart."

"Don't flatter yourself Gramps. If you drop that towel the only thing that'll happen is Bean will think you brought him a green bean to play with." You roll your eyes. "Now get out of my room. I have to change."

Ben begins to say something, but the vines hanging above the door push him out into the hall and shut the door behind him.

That felt good.

After you put on a white t-shirt, your favorite pair of jean overalls and your dark green converse, you make your way out into the living room. Ben is there, lounging on your couch like he owns it. He’s wearing the jeans and t-shirt you gave him, but you can't help but notice how the clothes are just a little too small for him. The way his muscles pull at the t-shirt, the way the jeans hug his thighs and butt-

He's getting way too comfortable here. You think to yourself to avoid the thought of how good he looks on your couch. How it almost feels natural that he's sitting here in your living room, inhabiting your space.

"So what's for breakfast doll face?" He leans his head back to gaze at you with a mischievous smile that makes a warm tingle travel down the length of your spine.

"Well, I'm going to have oatmeal and you're going to have whatever you want I guess?"

His eyes darken. "Whatever I want?"

"Calm down Gramps I meant that there's cereal in the cabinet." You roll your eyes to avoid thinking about the kiss last night and then thinking about how it felt for your body to be pressed against his in the hallway when you ran into him.  Which inevitably leads back to the waterfall fantasy and-

No. No. Not going to do that. Not with him. He's just good at getting women into bed, he doesn't care about you. You think about how he remembered that you liked ABBA. That doesn't mean anything. He doesn't see me as anything more than a conquest and he probably remembered that because he's changing tactics and trying not to act like a creep.

“You’re not going to pour me a bowl?” His smirk pulls down in an attractive pout.

“I think it’s simple enough for your little brain to do.” You don’t turn around from the kitchen cabinets, grabbing a raspberry from the refrigerator and popping it in your mouth. For some reason you noticed that whatever you grew tasted better than anything you bought at the grocery store. You hoped that it didn’t mean that your powers supercharged whatever you grew and that it was actually radioactive or something. 

Because that’s exactly what I need, to turn bright green. 

“There’s nothing little about me doll.” 

“Can’t you ever have a conversation with someone without it revolving around sex?” You grumble banging around in your cabinets to find your instant oatmeal. 

It was a valid point and you were tired of getting whiplash every time Ben acted caring and then flipping back to horny manchild.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ben laughs. He stands from the couch and makes his way into your kitchen.

It was hard not to notice how small each room in your apartment looked with him in it. His head was only a foot below the ceiling, not to mention the kitchen was only composed of six cabinets, a small sink, a microwave shoved into a corner, a stove top, and a refrigerator that only came up to Ben’s shoulders. Your bathroom was worse, sometimes the shower was small even for you and you didn’t know how Ben fit in there. 

He probably had to duck down to stand under the shower head. 

And then as you thought that, the image of Ben standing under a waterfall comes creeping back, making the strawberry plant on top of the fridge, the raspberry vines, and the blackberry vines covering your refridgerator burst into bloom.

Thankfully Ben didn’t notice, because he was rooting through the white top cabinet in the corner for one of the cereal boxes. 

I’d never hear the end of it if he saw that happen. 

You glare at the plants in question, eyes shifting to a deep green as the flowers develop into fresh fruit to cover your slip. 

Ben pulls out a box of Lucky Charms, but frowns at Lucky on the front cover, who is throwing a handful of marshmallow charms into the air around him. 

Guess he's not a fan.

 “If I’d known you were going to sleep on my couch I would have gotten Bran flakes and prunes for you.” You smirk as you pour water over the oats in the bowl before placing it in the microwave to cook. “I know people your age need that kind of thing sometimes. Gets the bowel moving.”

“Make fun of my age all you want.” Ben steps around you to grab the almost empty bottle of milk from your refrigerator. “One day you’ll be happy to find out just how experienced I am.”

“Keep dreaming.”

His dark eyes meet yours. “You’re all I dream about baby.”

You can feel his breath on the side of your neck from how close he is to you, the kitchen seems smaller than it ever has, and he leans forward, sensing your hesitation. One of his hands goes on the kitchen counter to your right, the other places the milk down and then braces on the counter to your left caging you against him. 

“Do any of your lines actually work?” You say, throat tight.

“You’d be surprised.” He smirks wider, green eyes sliding up and down your body. 

 The air in the kitchen electrifies, something passing through the air between the two of you that makes you feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest. His eyes are softer green now, reminding you of the color of fresh leaves on an oak tree in spring, bright, strong, and full of life. His body is pressed gently against yours, the strong muscles of his abdomen laying on your hips, muscular arms making sure that you don't walk away.

You try not to think again about how good he looks in your apartment, how calm and relaxed he seems when he’s away from Butcher and not wearing his uniform. 

Standing here in your apartment, he looked normal, human. Sometimes it was hard to remember that you were, when you could do what you did, when you saw him get hit with a car and shove it away with one hand. 

He was still ridiculously attractive, the kind of attractive that you’d read in romance novels and in classic Roman literature, the kind of beautiful that people wrote poetry about, the kind of ruggedly handsome that made smart girls stupid. 

You were really feeling that last one. Because you were desperately trying to hold on to your dream of being with someone that understood every part of you, but Ben was making it hard.

It wasn’t that the idea of sleeping with him was terrible. It wasn’t. It was far from terrible it was the idea of having sex without feelings that you didn’t like. You didn’t want to sleep with him because you knew that he only saw you as something to be possessed not as an equal or someone he cared about. Soldier Boy only cared about himself, that was apparent.

He’s only interested in you because you haven’t given in. You think to yourself. It's all about the thrill of the chase, nothing else. I'm worth more than that. I'm worth more than one night.

“In fact, I think it’s working on you doll.” Ben leans down towards you so close you can feel his words in the air between your faces, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for you to say no.

That made you pause. Ben didn’t seem to be the type of man who was patient. You’d walked in on him making out with numerous women on the couch back at the apartment he shared with the rest of the team, saw how he took control, saw how he didn’t seem to wait for them to say no or really say anything at all. Not to mention one time when you walked into the shared apartment and could hear Ben with one of his "dates" in his bedroom. Nothing about that seemed patient at all.

But this Ben standing in your kitchen was different. He was almost smiling, dark hair still damp from the shower curling on his forehead, the t-shirt damp around the collar, jeans a dark blue, and the smell of your shampoo fills your senses again all over again. It made you wish for this person all the time. The one that you could see yourself falling in love with, not the racist, sexist, and inappropriate jerk that seemed to dominate his persona at all other parts of the day.

Funny, the only time you’d ever seen Ben like this, was when the two of you were alone- well sometimes- other times he annoyed you without end and made you want to jump out a window. 

But why? Why only around me?

The feeling in your chest grows. It jumps from synapse to synapse, pulses along your skin, buzzes in your blood, tangles through your hair, and radiates through the air like a sound wave. Your eyes drift down to his lips remembering exactly what it was like to kiss him last night. How he seemed to consume you whole, how everything else fell away, how Ben curled himself around you, how he-

Your cell phone rings, breaking through the moment, and making you remember exactly why you didn’t want to give in to Ben and remember the kind of person he was. 

You push him away and pull your cellphone out of your pocket. Butcher's photo and name appear on the screen.

Shit.

"Hey Butch, what's up?" You look away from Ben, forcing yourself to calm your racing heart.

Ben perks up at the mention of Butcher’s name.

“Do you have any idea where Soldier Boy is?”

“Soldier Boy?”

“Seems like our blunt smoking man out of time has vanished. Been trying to text him all bloody morning.”

At least he doesn’t know that Ben is here. That’s good. I’d never hear the end of it if-

Ben snatches the phone from your hand and holds it up to his ear. “What the fuck do you want?”

The softness was gone, his eyes had hardened again, and the spell was broken. Ben was no longer relaxed, his shoulders were tensed and guarded, jaw set.

It didn’t take a genius to know that Ben didn’t like Butcher. Sometimes you wondered why Ben decided to stay.

Probably because the alternative was being frozen like Han Solo next to his son.

When Ben had knocked Homelander out, you hadn’t believed it, and despite Ben’s arguing Butcher wanted to keep Homelander a supe, and just put him on ice. You had no idea why, especially since Butcher had been gunning for him forever, but had the sneakiest suspicion that it was because of Ryan.

But you didn't blame Butcher for that, watching your father get killed in front of you seemed traumatic, not to mention Ryan was still reeling from watching his mother die.

You turn back to your microwave to pull out your bowl of oatmeal with a groan.

Now Butcher’s going to mock me endlessly about going home with Soldier Boy. We didn’t do anything! Well…

Your mind flits back to the searing kiss you shared and to five seconds ago when whatever the hell just happened.

“You want me to meet you in fucking Jersey?” Ben laughs.

You choose not to eavesdrop on the conversation, instead you busy yourself with sprinkling brown sugar onto your breakfast and plucking a few more raspberries from the vines.

“Fine.” Ben almost growls before holding out the phone to you. “He wants to talk to you.”

Of course he does. Maybe I can pretend to lose the signal with a piece of paper or a candy wrapper.

“Hello-“

“You crazy wanker.” Butcher chuckles into the phone. “Guess your night was a little more exciting than mine eh? Oi Hughie, you owe me a tener!” He shouts to Hughie who you can guess is sitting nearby.

“What? He’s with y/n! No way!” You hear Hughie shout back, muffled but there.

Damn it he’s gonna tell Annie. She's going to start sending me pictures of babies photoshopped in supe suits.

“You guys were betting that he was here?!” You shout making eye contact with Ben who only smirks before he busies himself with getting a bowl for his cereal.

“He left about two minutes after you did. Said some bullshit about a smoke break.” Butcher is smiling and you know it. “How was he? Was he as good as all the girls say?" Butcher coos on the other side of the line.

“Nothing happened-“

“Sure it didn’t Cherie!” You hear Frenchie crow. “Hopefully you got to relieve some of that tension no?”

“I hate all of you.” You grumble, and before Butcher can say anything else you hang up the phone and glare at Ben. “This is your fault.”

“What do you mean sweetheart?”

“You just had to follow me home!”

“You shouldn’t have been walking out there alone.”

“I do it all the time!”

“Not anymore.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not going to let you walk around alone in the middle of the night.”

"Like hell. I don't need a babysitter!"

"I think you do-"

"No I don't. In fact why are you still here? Why haven't you left?" You shout, snatching your bowl of oatmeal before moving to the wobbly kitchen table that you smooshed up against a window that looks out onto your fire escape.

"Because I tend to like morning sex. It's a great way to start the day. Thought you'd be interested." Ben winks as he sits across from you, barely fitting in the wooden chair.

Your phone buzzes where it sits on the table beside your bowl. When you flip it over, you see the text from Annie.

Annie: YOU SLEPT WITH SOLDIER BOY?!!!!

You: I'm not going to dignify that with a response.

Annie: That's a yes. TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!

You sigh and shovel a spoonful of oatmeal into your mouth, eyes drifting up to the top of your phone screen focusing on the time.

"SHIT! I'm late for work!" You shout before shoving as much oatmeal as you can into your mouth.

"Work?" Ben looks up from his bowl of cereal confused as you begin to run around the room.

The half-eaten bowl of oatmeal falls into the sink with a resounding crash, Bean's cat food lands haphazardly in his bright green food dish, and you practically run to your tote bag that hangs on a peg by your front door.

"I told you. I work at a plant shop." You glance back at your barren coffee maker mournfully. The thought of trying to get through the day without coffee seemed impossible, not to mention you didn’t have time to grab one on the way to work from your favorite shop just around the corner.

"I thought you were joking."

"No. Some of us have to work for a living." You run your fingers through your hair quickly pulling it back in a loose ponytail.

"You should leave your hair down." Ben says from the table watching you.

"What?"

"It's prettier when it's down."

"I don't have time for your misogynistic comments. Come on let's go."

"What?"

"I'm not going to leave you here in my apartment alone. You don't have a key."

"You could give me yours-"

"HA. No that's not going to happen. Come on." You tug on his muscular arm, trying to get him up out of the chair, but he barely moves.

“You know you could call out of work and we could spend the day in bed.” He smiles, eyes tracing your figure. “I mean you look good baby, but I think you'd look even better naked. Plus, Butcher and the rest of those fuckers already think we slept together so we might as well-“

“Not a chance Gramps. Either get up out of the chair and leave through the door or leave through the window. It’s your choice and I have no qualms with throwing you down to the street. But please don't make me do that because I can't afford a new window."

Ben rolls his eyes, but finally gets up to follow you. He actually tries to open the door for you, but you place your hand on his chest.

“Nah uh uh. Bowl in the sink. I’m not going to clean up after you.”

Ben sighs and mumbles something under his breath that’s lost in Mike’s inhuman screech of “Love on Top.”

Yeah. What a great fucking way to start the day.

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[kingkat12]

say it (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, mentions of sex, jealousy-schemes, depictions of violence, blood, angst, fluff, Roman using his powers for no good as always

summary: many questions have been left unanswered-- is Roman really going to take revenge on the girls that hurt you, and will the avalanche of events lead him to finally tell you the words you've been longing to hear?

word count: 9,208 (holy fuck)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8

a/n: celebrating 400 followers (???) with an extra long chapter!! thank you all again for the support of this series!! all the comments have warmed my heaaarttt omg hope you enjoy!!!<3333 love u!!

Roman had always been highly unpredictable-- but this, I should've expected.

My hands trembled as I reached for the brand new phone in my locker, realizing he had bought me the most recent model he could find. As I picked it up, I slowly pried away the attached post-it note;

taking care of things - the one thing I do well

Knowing I had asked him not to do this, I could only sigh as I tucked my new phone away in my pocket. The day had certainly started on an odd note, but my main concern wasn't this-- it was rather the question of what Roman had done after he stormed away from my house that kept my mind occupied. 

Roman could be scary, and I was aware of this. But gifting me a brand new phone for several hundred dollars? It just proved I could never foresee his next moves. This only made me more anxious to learn why he had left my place in such a hurry shortly after seeing the cuts Jasmine had left on the back of my hands. 

As I closed the door to my locker, a group of girls passed me, their whispers catching my attention. I turned around, ready to face off with another group of bitches just like yesterday, all until I realized what they were whispering about. It wasn't me. 

I followed their gazes which were focused on something further down the hall, and it was at this moment that I spotted the man who hadn't answered any of my panicked messages or calls-- instead, he stood talking to Jasmine. 

Thankfully, it seemed to be quite a heated conversation, unlike how he usually spoke to girls. Roman's brows were drawn together in anger, nearing her slowly in his typical tactic of intimidation, clearly telling her off; I stood frozen by my locker, not bothering to suppress my growing smile at the sight. My stomach fluttered with warmth as I realized that he was standing up for me.

... However, my smile quickly faltered as I caught the change in Jasmine's face. Her lips had been pursed, her finger had been drawn forward to point at him in defense, but her whole fight-back demeanor faded within the snap of a second. It was as though she lost all the blood in her face, eyes not blinking as they met Roman's intense gaze-- everything about her state reminded me of mine yesterday, when I suddenly couldn't control my own words when I looked into his eyes and he interrogated me about my wounds. 

I couldn't deny how dangerous Roman looked, watching as he told her one last, short thing, before harshly nudging her shoulder and disappearing out of view.

Jasmine stood by her locker, completely frozen. I wondered whether she was still breathing, all until she finally moved. She slowly turned to stare into her reflection in the mirror she had hung up on her locker, still not blinking. 

I didn't think I could shriek the way I did-- the extent of my voice was something I discovered as Jasmine unexpectedly slammed her head against the mirror, a loud thud echoing through the hall. 

I wasn't the only one who had been caught by surprise, and I watched the people around her jump away in a mix of both fear and shock. 

Jasmine didn't look like herself; her eyes were dull, hollow, as she brought her head to her locker once more, now leaving bloody cracks in the mirror. 

I recognized Jasmine's posse of girls flocking to make their way through the crowds, and Letha appeared almost out of nowhere to grab her and pull her away from her locker. A shrill cry followed from Jasmine, who was clawing at Letha as though possessed. I watched as she fought, yelled-- I couldn't look at it anymore. I couldn't look at the tiny trickle of blood running down her nose, similar to Roman yesterday, or the small shards of glass she had managed to get lodged into her forehead. 

I turned away, clasping a hand over my mouth as I squeezed my eyes shut; something told me that the sight of the whole thing would burn itself into my mind forever.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Oh, how right I was. I kept replaying the whole scene, but I had oddly enough fixated on something that wasn't the blood-- suddenly, my mind kept replaying how ridiculously hot Roman looked leaned over Jasmine with his intense, big eyes. 

I did my best not to think too much about it. I couldn't; it all brought back thoughts of how soft his lips were against mine.

Speaking of Roman, I didn't expect to talk to him at all today. He still hadn't answered any of my messages, so I assumed he needed time away to cool off.  However, I knew I had him cornered when I accidentally walked into the chemistry lab, catching him in the middle of... an experiment?

This was certainly a new side of Roman which I hadn't seen before-- I had never seen him do anything school-related, as I had gathered he didn't care much for it from our study sessions at Letha's place before everything happened. But here he was, so consumed in whatever he was doing that he didn't acknowledge that I had closed the door, leaving us alone in a confined space.

I pressed my back against the cold door, watching him from afar. Something about how calm he was made me uneasy; why was he so focused? Roman, captivated by the small, compact container before him, kept his eyes on his work as he spoke; "Are you lost?"

My brows drew together as I watched him pour a liquid gel into the container which contained what looked like blood-- he was so meticulous that it gave me an inkling that he had done this several times before. "No," I mumbled, clearing my throat as I fought my queasiness at the sight of his experiment. "What are you doing?"

Roman barely reacted to my question, busy with putting the container into a machine nearby. "Genetic testing,"

"Since when do you know how to do that?"

Annoyed by my continuous interruptions, Roman's gloved hand put the blood-box into the machine and pressed a button to start it, finally looking up to meet my nervous, flickering gaze. "You certainly have a lot of questions today," he huffed, adjusting his protective glasses. "My turn. How are your hands?"

I suddenly became very aware of the cuts on the back of my hands, and my eyes diverted down to watch my thumbs nervously brush over my wounded skin. "They'll heal. I'm not too worried about it," My next inquiry was one I was wary to say, but it became obvious to me that I had to; "I'm more worried about why you stormed off like that last night."

Roman didn't move a muscle, watching me with a blank look on his face. "You told me to go,"

"Come on," I was reminded of what my state had led me to yesterday; the way I wanted to push Roman away, to never see him again. But here I was, standing before him with no greater wish than to run to him. "I was worried sick that you'd do something... You looked like you were ready to kill someone." It was at this moment that I dared to look back at him and suddenly caught a glimpse of the hickey I had left on the side of his throat-- I immediately felt a familiar warmth creep up my cheeks, leaving me with a flustered, reddening expression on my face. "What did you do?"

Roman tilted his head to the side, scanning my state. "I haven't done anything--"

"Then why did you?--"

"Major," Roman bit down on his lower lip, trying to suppress his shameless grin. The familiar spark in his green eyes returned, and I could see it perfectly clear through his protective gear-- no matter how worried his words made me, that look never failed to make the butterflies in my stomach explode all over the place. 

I had to pull myself together, but my voice came out frail and shaky; "You're kidding, right?"

I recognized Roman's wish to remain reactionless and the way he fought the rounding out of his big, green eyes. It seemed to dawn on him that I was genuinely concerned. "... Sure. But what did you think of what happened this morning with Jasmine?"

"What?" That was certainly unexpected-- "Why?" I wanted to ask what he had said to her, but something told me he wouldn't tell me the truth about it anyway. Instead, I opted to find comfort in the fact that he had confronted her for my sake. 

Roman shrugged before his attention moved back to the machine. It was beeping rather obnoxiously, a sound impossible to ignore. He got back to work, pressing a few buttons here and there; "Just wondering. Did it not make you feel good to see her like that?"

I couldn't put my finger on why he was asking these peculiar questions. "Well... No? I was mostly scared. I've never seen anyone have a nervous breakdown before, and I didn't expect something like that to happen to Jasmine,"

"Nervous breakdown," Roman echoed, checking some numbers he had written down on a sheet nearby. Something told me he was upset I wasn't over the moon about it. "Don't you feel like she deserved it?"

It was mind-boggling to hear him talk like this, with such nonchalance about a girl slamming her head bloody-- I had suppressed the memory of this side of him. The inclination to anything pain-related, the scorching look of amusement in his green eyes at the sight of my flaring anxiety, and the infamous fucking needles. How he had gotten hard when seeing how scared I was when we hid from Letha on our first date. 

I hated every reminder of this side of Roman. Hated it. 

"I don't think anyone deserves to be driven to that," I mumbled, picking at my nails out of nervous habit. "I didn't know she was dealing with anything that would lead her to do that. Maybe that's why she acted out yesterday? I hope that's the reason, and not because Letha sent her to do it... " With a sigh, I brought my hands up to rub my temples. "It was so damn scary... The whole thing. And ever since, my head has been hurting like crazy."

Taking in the silence that ensued, Roman tapped the spot next to him on the counter-- come here.

I held my breath as I made my way over with shy steps, hoisting myself up on the cold surface. I watched as Roman removed his gloves along with the protective glasses, now reaching forward to part my legs and make space for himself between them. He listened to the hitch of my breath as he laid his hands on my hips, his calculated gaze scanning mine whilst pulling me towards him. 

By instinct, I rested my hands on his broad shoulders, taking in the moment our breaths became shared. Right now, it was impossible to believe that I had made the wrong choice in choosing him over my friendship with Letha-- something about the tenderness with which he was touching me, told me he was changing right before my eyes. 

With baby steps, of course.

Roman seemed to be taking pity on my state, softly nudging his upturned nose against mine. "Try not to think about it too much," he breathed, watching as I closed my eyes to savour the moment. "Trust that I know how to take care of this."

No, no, no-- "Please don't say that," I pulled away, my hands slowly reaching for his face, searching for the intent behind his eyes. "I know you well enough to know that you're capable of things I don't want to get into, and honestly? You scare me when you say shit like that."

Roman's brows drew together in a troubled look; "I scare you?"

"Yeah," I breathed, stroking my thumbs across his cheeks. "You and your infamous needles and stuff."

A drawn-out groan ensued-- "Again with the fucking needles!--"

"Roman!" My grip on his face hardened in an attempt to keep his focus. I watched his green eyes widen, clearly not used to being handled like that. "Whatever it is, please snap out of it! You can't even tell me that you're into me, but you're ready to go back to being all dark, and for what? My honour?"

Something in Roman's eyes changed-- For once in his life, he was stunned, unable to utter a proper response. 

Overcome by a newfound sense of confidence in his unproclaimed feelings for me, I gently twisted my fingers into the nape of his neck, pulling him in for a soft kiss. Roman let out a relieved sigh against my lips, his grip on my hips tightening as he moved me closer to the edge of the counter, closer to him. 

It took a lot of willpower to disconnect our kiss, the warmth of his touch luring me in. "I'm serious," I said, nudging his nose as I felt his breath hot against my upper lip. "I can stand up for myself--"

"Shut up," Roman's lips came crashing against mine with a hunger I hadn't expected, especially knowing we could be walked in on at any moment. But I gave in, letting his greedy hands travel further to grab my ass, pressing me against him as his tongue moved softly against mine. 

Usually, I'd taste the hints of his cinnamon cigarettes, but today there was nothing-- I knew he didn't smoke the days he knew he had to be focused. There wasn't much time to ponder why, especially now that our kiss heated further.

As I felt Roman drive his teeth into my lower lip, I could only whimper against him. My grip on his hair tightened in an attempt to pull him even closer, but the sharp sting of the tug only fueled Roman's obvious growing need for more. 

It was building in me as well-- in my anxious daze, I had forgotten how good it felt to feel him against me. How thrilling every touch, every kiss, every little breath was. And if anyone had told me a month ago that Roman Godfrey would be grabbing my ass in the chemistry lab, I would've probably fainted; which I struggled not to do right now.

And I knew we would've gone further, beyond all restrictions and rules of the school, had the door not opened with a loud creak.

Squeaking, I pushed Roman away out of pure instinct. He didn't go very far, feet planted to the ground, as his hands trailed down to rest comfortably at my thighs when he met the eyes of the intruder of our moment.

Letha still held onto the doorknob as though her life depended on it, knuckles nearly turning white at the sheer force-- she inhaled sharply, not yet able to exhale. 

I felt like an icicle, frozen by fear on the counter after meeting the eyes of my ex-best friend. Roman's hands on my thighs burned, the realization of being caught in such a compromising position making me want to burst into flames like the witches of Salem. 

Roman took the lead, catching onto the intense staring-contenst which ensued between me and his cousin; "Did you need anything?" he asked, gaze hardening. 

Letha cleared her throat, letting go of the door. I couldn't help but notice the slight shake of her hands. "I need to talk to you, Ro," 

"I don't want to talk," 

She sighed, visibly fed up with her stubborn cousin; "We didn't finish this conversation yesterday. Don't act like we're not still talking because she's here,"

Oh? I held my breath, my nervous gaze moving to Roman. He remained unfazed, but the minuscule twitch of his eye revealed that he didn't enjoy that information being aired out. "What do you want?"

"To talk. It's important," Letha glanced at me once more, an unintelligible emotion glossing over her eyes as she looked back at me; "Could you please leave?"

It took a few seconds before I realized she was talking to me. The coldness in her voice broke my heart all over-- I didn't have the energy to fight her. Uncomfortable and mortified by the situation, I nodded to myself before sliding off the counter, Roman's hand never leaving me. He now held onto my arm, not letting me go just yet. Leaning down to my level, he made sure he had my attention before he spoke in a hushed tone; "My number is already in your phone. Give me a text when you're free for lunch,"

My heart leaped up into the air as Roman pressed his lips against my forehead, the sincerity of the gesture flustering me beyond any previous point-- it was especially meaningful now that he did it in front of Letha. Realizing there was no going back, I got up on my toes to give him a short, soft kiss, feeling the plushness of his lips against mine before making my way to the door.

Passing Letha might've taken less than a second, but it felt like hours. I felt her green eyes burn into me, a sense of shock apparent in her body. We exchanged a short look, and I wondered whether I imagined the look of longing that so clearly streaked across her face; I didn't allow myself to dwell on it.

After closing the door behind me, I realized I had been holding my breath. I took a moment, regaining my composure before I got ready to kick off the door-- all until it dawned on me how clearly I could hear Letha's voice through the wall. My heart stopped, realizing I was about to do something I never thought I'd do; I pressed my ear against the door, mentally beating myself up for doing this.

"I see you guys are still getting along," Letha said, her fingers tapping against the door. "That's longer than any of the other friends you've stolen from me."

Roman groaned-- I didn't need to see him to know that he was rolling his eyes. "Get to the point,"

I drove my body closer to the door to hear them better, hearing Letha stepping away from the other side of it to come closer to her cousin. "Tell me why I had to drive Jasmine to school today because the wheels of her car had been punctured? Or even worse, how she got a note under her bedroom door saying she should watch her back?"

There was a long silence before Roman finally answered, a hint of humor in his voice; "... Maybe she should, then?--"

"Ro, you were in her house! Are you out of your mind?!"

As he groaned, I could almost see his usual annoyed stance and the way he grabbed the surface in front of him as his anger simmered to a boil. "Me? I would be more concerned about your own mind if I were you! Your cunt of a friend would've done it all again in a heartbeat if I hadn't scared her a little!"

Letha gasped; "What are you talking about? You have no right to call her a!--"

"That bitch hurt her!" Roman's fist came down against the counter, the thud making me jump away from the door. "Have you seen the state of her hands? How do you expect me to react when our petty bullshit comes down to this?!" 

I imagined the stunned look across Letha's face, the way her eyes widened as her lips parted, unable to find the right words. Eventually, she spoke; "Jasmine did what?"

I pressed myself harder up against the door, closing my eyes as it dawned on me how concerned Letha sounded. Everything about it made my heart swell with hope-- this meant she hadn't been the one to send Jasmine and her girls. If anything, she sounded horrified about the ordeal.

"Yeah... She did. And when I talked to Jasmine this morning, she seemed quite proud of it. You should be damn happy I didn't kill her on the spot," I heard the humming of the blood machine starting again, along with the snapping of gloves being pulled back on, indicating that Roman was back to work. "But does Jasmine suspect it's me?" he asked, a certain nonchalance about him. "The car and all?"

Letha sighed, trying to contain her outbursts; "She has no idea. And now she's just rambling incoherent things after what happened this morning... I think she's concussed,"

A hum. "Good,"

I clasped a hand over my mouth to suppress a snort. Against my palm, I could feel my growing smile as I realized this confirmed that Roman wasn't motivated to take revenge on Jasmine to quench his thirst to cause fear, but that he cared for me.

He cared for me.

My smile only grew as I stepped away from the door-- He cared for me. He cared for me!

Now, what remained was for Roman to actually own up to it... And I realized I was grinning as the perfect idea of how to get it out of him came to mind. But my plans came to a hard stop when Letha's voice sounded through the door once more; "Whose blood are you using this time?" she joked, trying to lighten the mood. I grimaced as I walked back to the door; I felt bad listening in on their conversation. Still, I imagined Letha was pointing at the machine Roman was using, as it kept making noise. 

"Jasmine's," Roman mumbled. "Got enough scraped off her locker to make a sample."

"Ro, that's not funny!--"

"Why haven't you girls made up yet?"

Letha sounded confused as she mentioned my name, not having foreseen the change of subject. "Are you seriously asking me that?"

"Yeah? It's getting annoying at this point. I thought this would blow over several weeks ago," With another loud beep, Roman stopped the machine. "She talks about you a lot. Gets all quiet when I tell her we're having family dinner at your house... And she still has a picture of you two by her bed."

"Oh, and how do you know that? Did you spot it one of the times you were reaching for the condoms on her nightstand?"

His breathing got harder, choppy, before his frustration sounded through his answer; "It's not like that,"

"Okay, then," Letha snorted, clearly not sold. "I'll put it simply for you. How would you feel if I fucked your best friend?"

"Ew, don't give me that mental image!--"

"Fuck you, just imagine a world where I would be enough of an asshole to do that! Imagine I slept with Peter. How would you feel?"

Roman took his time to answer, clearly flustered. "... I get it, okay? I get it!" 

"No, you don't," I could almost see the way Letha now avoided his gaze. "But... did it have to be her? Why couldn't you mess around with anyone else, why did you choose the first girl I trusted to get close to me after you screwed all my other friends?"

Learning of his previous conquests with Letha's long line of friends made me sick, but I focused on the fact that Roman remained quiet. Honestly, I would've cut off my left arm in exchange for seeing him right now. I wondered whether he could meet her eyes or not, and whether he was defensive or anxious. 

Eventually, Roman answered; "She... sees me. And she makes me feel good about myself. So I'm sorry your bitch-friend got hurt or whatever, but I'm just trying to return the favour,"

I had to do a lot to contain my instinctual jump of joy-- I was two seconds away from skipping down the hallway like a German child in a fairytale. Everything about this conversation made me want to squeal and melt into the door. 

However, the other part of me hurt for Letha. Hurt for the girl who knew me better than anyone else, hurt for the first person to have shown me true friendship. I hoped that we could get together someday, to talk it out like people, and not like the two crazy families from Romeo and Juliet. 

The rest of the conversation quickly became a childish spat similar to one between siblings-- I stepped away from the door, making sure to keep breathing. 

The most important thing I gathered from that conversation was the fact that Roman saw me and that he definitely had feelings for me. However, I couldn't quite put my finger on why he couldn't say it to my face. If he was willing to go so far as to scare off Jasmine for my sake, why couldn't he look me in the eye and tell me what he truly felt about me? I knew it would make me feel much better to get his feelings for me confirmed-- the fact that he was evading it left me uneasy. Uncomfortable. And quite frankly, it only made me further insecure.

What if I had sacrificed my relationship with Letha for someone who would never commit to one with me? 

My mind returned to the plan I previously made up with my ear pressed to the door; maybe Roman just needed a push in the right direction?

Either that, or I had been led on like the biggest idiot of the century.

I couldn't do this anymore-- I needed to know.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

And so, it was all set in motion. 

The first part of the plan was to find out whether it was necessary to have a plan at all. This, I decided to investigate in the backseat of Roman's car. 

It used to be a place that I refused to step foot in after hearing of his cheerleader-conquests. However, right now, it was a place of comfort and peace; he had parked it somewhere desolate, per my request. My parents had gotten suspicious after hearing steps on the roof the other day, and were now watching the whole area around our house like hawks to spot any possible intruders. So, as I didn't want to be caught sneaking a boy into my room, I told Roman to get creative-- and he had hit the jackpot.

This summer night was nice and warm, and we lay curled up in the back of his car as we stared up at the starry sky; this was one of the perks of Roman's car having the function of pulling down the roof. He sat with his back against the car door, me between his legs with my head leaned on his shoulder, the both of us looking up at tonight's constellations decorating the darkness above. 

"I'm not even going to act like I know what that one is," I mumbled, pointing up at the scatter of stars. I wrapped myself further up in his sweater, tracing patterns over the arm he had around me-- the night air was crisp, filled with the earthy scent of grass and the faintest hint of rain as my body filled with a certain satisfaction I hadn't felt in a while.

Roman chuckled, pressing a kiss against my cheek as his arm pulled my back flush against his chest. Like this, I could spot my hair ties still worn around his wrists. "It's the Little Bear constellation," he murmured, his long, slender fingers rubbing circles into my side. "See how it looks like a bear cub?"

I decided not to lie; he'd see right through me, anyway. "... No,"

"No?" Roman reached forward to grab my hand into his, closing one eye to position my hand properly with his vision. "Even if I trace it for you?"

It was impossible not to blush. His hand against mine, his warmth against my skin-- everything about this was so incredibly intimate, and I had to hold myself back from simply jumping him out of pure joy. "I-- Well," It was hard to speak when I was this flustered. I swallowed hard before trying again; "I don't think bears have long tails like that."

Roman seemed amused by my answer; "You make a good point," he purred, gently intertwining our fingers before bringing my hand towards his lips, pressing a kiss against my cuts. "As always."

I only blushed further, not bothering to suppress my smile anymore. Turning to him, I watched his big, green eyes meet mine with a softness that nearly made me melt right into him. "How do you even know all of this?" I asked, leaning my head on his shoulder. "You don't strike me as a constellation nerd."

Roman rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. Something told me he was charmed by the subtle compliment of his intellect; "Is it hard for you to believe I'm not braindead?"

"Maybe," I turned back towards the stars, hoping he wouldn't spot my grin. "Pretty boys usually don't even know how to count to forty."

Chuckling, Roman nuzzled his cheek against the top of my head, wrapping both arms around me again. "So now I'm pretty, huh?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, deciding to be blunt-- I didn't gain anything by lying to him about it, anyway. Not after everything we had been through. "I think you're really damn pretty."

Something told me he hadn't expected the frankness, or for me to even be truthful at all. Roman remained quiet, taking in the sweetness of the moment. He took the time to kiss my temple, humming against my skin; "I think you're pretty too," he murmured. "Very, very pretty."

There was no way to suppress the blush burning its way up my cheeks, and I closed my eyes to savour the moment he kissed me. Roman was being so gentle, so loving-- I couldn't believe this was the same boy I had been running away from because I was scared he'd prick me with his scary needles. He seemed to notice how flustered I got from the compliment, letting out a warm chuckle as his gaze turned up at the sky again. As he pointed out a new constellation, Roman's voice was laced with a kind of wonder that made me smile; "If you want the full answer, it is the fact that there's something more up there that makes it interesting. Something much bigger than us... Something worth reaching for, y'know? The stars are just a blatant sign,"

I turned to look at him, watching the way his green eyes sparkled almost as brightly as the stars above us. Roman was so painfully beautiful, and so wonderfully at ease-- there was nothing I wanted more than for him to feel this peaceful all the time. I knew it would be good for his soul. 

I wondered whether Roman knew that he was something worth reaching for, as well. 

Everything about this evening made my body feel like gelatin. I couldn't even feel my fingers anymore, engulfed in the euphoria that was Roman. This was the perfect distraction from everything that had happened this week, and I realized it was also the perfect time to set my plan in motion; "So... you're willing to admit I'm pretty, but you're not going to say it?"

"Say what?"

I shrugged, feeling myself grow nervous. Roman was usually the one to mess up cute moments by saying something stupid, but I wondered whether now was my turn. "That you like me,"

However, he remained unfazed-- or, at least he was very good at acting like he was. His silence made me further anxious, now starting to wonder if I was the reason he wasn't able to say it to my face. Maybe he wasn't as into me as I had thought? Maybe this was just how he treated every girl he liked? 

I knew it wasn't, but I realized I was spiraling; I needed him to spell it out for me. I really, really hoped he would-- then I wouldn't have to go that dreaded extra length and go into phase two of my plan.

Roman pressed his lips against the top of my head, clearly lost in thought as he brought me back from mine. "Do you need me to?"

That was a good question-- one I knew the answer of. "I think so, yeah..."

"You need it spelled out?"

"Yeah,"

"Verbatim?"

"Verbatim, Rome,"

The nickname seemed to throw him off; he let out a breathy chuckle, shifting to get a good look at me. "Since when am I Rome to you?"

I shrugged, meeting his green eyes. "Since... now?"

Roman smiled down at me, clearly flattered. "Cute," he breathed, leaning in to place a sweet kiss against my cheek. I giggled as Roman's fingers dug into my skin, pressing me further up against him in a flash of passion-- although this moment was perfect in theory, I knew I hadn't gotten what I wanted out of him tonight, and I dreaded what I had to do because of it.

Quite frankly, I dreaded it mostly because I was very well aware that the second part of my plan was incredibly high-risk. Stupid. Reckless, even.

However, I didn't see any other way of forcing those three words out of Roman that I needed so much. How else was I supposed to prove to myself that I hadn't sacrificed my friendships for nothing?

I dreaded every single step up I took as I made my way through the cafeteria the next day. In my peripheral view, I saw Roman sitting next to his best friend, Peter, chatting away about something as none of them had noticed me yet. It was only when I caught Roman's eyes that my heart started racing-- I watched his confusion build as I started walking in the opposite direction.

Determined, I knew this was the perfect moment to execute the second part of the plan. I did my best to keep my face neutral, hoping not to be visibly bothered by Roman's watchful stare, as I deliberately sat down next to Daniel-- the guy who had flirted with me at an assembly a month ago. 

I specifically chose Daniel because I remembered Roman saying he had noticed me talking to him; I also knew that this guy was the key to making him see the consequences of staying unofficial. 

I didn't need to look at Roman to know he was seething.

Daniel turned to me, putting down his fork. We hadn't talked since I started seeing Roman and stopped responding to his messages-- he was visibly confused, but there was a certain sparkle in his blue eyes that gave away his delight. "Hi?" He quickly turned to his friends who were all staring at us and motioned for them to get back to their own shit. 

"Hey, you," I shifted in my seat, attempting to make myself comfortable whilst Roman's gaze drilled holes into the side of my skull. "Haven't seen you in a hot minute. How are you?" Putting on my nicest smile, I tilted my head a little as I spoke-- that used to work on him. 

Daniel blinked twice, clearly unsure what to say. "Uh... Yeah, of course I haven't seen you, you've been busy with Roman," His eyes darted over to the latter, watching as my very unofficial boyfriend glared daggers his way. "I'm fine now, but I'm afraid I won't be later if you don't move soon."

This had been one of the driving factors of me not falling for Daniel-- this guy was an absolute wuss. I did my best not to roll my eyes, knowing how to rope him back in again; I placed a gentle hand against his arm, rounding out my eyes as Daniel turned back to me. His blonde hair fell over his eyes, a bright contrast to the dark blue of his varsity jacket, as his heart visibly skipped a beat. 

"You want me to move?" I tried, keeping my tone soft as I gave his arm a short squeeze.

In my peripheral view, I caught a glimpse of Roman stiffening in his seat. His green, intense eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and his fingers tapped impatiently against the table as his mood darkened. That same, unmistakable anger looming over him like a dark cloud worried me-- I knew I didn't have much time to make my point before he'd explode. 

However, distractingly comical, was the sight of Peter next to him, debating whether to put his hand on his best friend's shoulder in an attempt to calm him down; his hand kept jerking back and forth, jumping with every twitch of Roman's eye.

Daniel swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving mine. "Well... You don't have to move," He cleared his throat, giving in to a nervous chuckle. "You're already here, I guess. Pretty as always."

I had to fight my instincts to not throw up in my mouth-- it made me physically ill to flirt with him when I was so sickeningly crazy about Roman. "Oh, you're too kind," I tried, forcing a smile.

Daniel flashed me that typical heartthrob smile of his, finally giving in to my antics. He tilted his head, mimicking me, as his eyes sparkled with want; "Fuck, I've missed seeing you around,"

That seemed to be enough for Roman-- his possessive intensity came to a simmer, boiling over. He kicked away his chair as he got up, an angry groan escaping him as stormed off with balled fists. Peter sent me a sharp look of come on before he left his food behind to follow his best friend.

That was my cue to leave. "I, uh... Sorry," Releasing Daniel's arm with a quickness I didn't know I had in me, I practically jumped out of my seat, allowing myself to shudder when I was out of view. I didn't like touching any other guy like that, but I hoped that Roman would take the time to let it dawn on him that this could be his reality if he didn't step the fuck up.

... I really hoped that would be his conclusion. 

However, it dawned on me that this might've been my biggest misstep so far. I had learned that one of the most important things for Roman, was loyalty-- maybe I shouldn't have toyed with his perception of mine?

Putting it all together, I realized I should've expected it to blow up in my face.

The third and final part of my plan had been simple in my head; Roman would confront me about what had happened in the cafeteria, and then he'd tell me he couldn't stand the sight of me with another man and therefore wants us to be official.

... It seems that I had gotten in over my head.

The exact opposite of that happened. Now, Roman wasn't answering my calls. He would walk past me in the hallway as though I was a ghost, even though the fading hickey on the side of his neck served as a reminder of our time together. I hadn't expected him to ignore me like this, I really hadn't-- he was utterly unforgiving.

It had been three days of no contact. No shared glances, no exchanged words, simply because I got too confident. Why had I thought it would be so easy to get what I wanted? Why had I felt the need to drag a confession out of him when his actions spoke for him?

Roman had made sure none of Letha's friends would touch me again-- or, at least in the near future, seeing as the main instigator was at home with a severe concussion. He had put in a good word for me with Letha, he had bought me a new phone, and he had opened up enough to both accept and enjoy physical affection. Why hadn't I seen it this clearly before I messed it all up?

It all came down to one moment in the hallway. 

Exhausted and alone, I had zoned out like I usually did to distract myself from everything as I rummaged through my locker for my book. My body felt heavy with the sadness coursing through my veins, knowing I had no one anymore. No one. My every moment was slow, not having the energy to hurry much as I spent an unusual amount of time looking for the specific book I needed.

Up until my body froze at the sight to my right.

My head slowly turned to watch what was happening a few meters down the hall. There he was, the man that had haunted my every waking moment, vexed my every thought, with a girl. 

Roman had that classic heartbreaker look about him as always, leaning his hand next to the girl's head against the locker. From this angle, I could see the upward turn of his nose, the way his smirk painted across his lips, and the way his eyes practically sparkled at the sight of his next prey.

The most jarring part about it was the fact that I could still see my hair ties around Roman's wrist as his palm lay flat against the locker behind her, almost as though it was on purpose.

It became downright nauseating when the girl giggled and started twirling her finger around her hair-- I did my best not to throw up my breakfast. Questions raced through my mind, fogging up my brain; why was he doing this here, in front of me? Why was he doing this at all? 

I was sure this was what people meant when speaking of tasting their own medicine.

I stood frozen by my locker, one hand still shoved beneath the rubble of books, as involuntary tears pressed up against my eyes. I tried to ground myself with a few deep breaths, yet the world around me felt as though it was crumbling. All these games were so damn childish from the both of us; when would it end? I was living through my worst nightmare, and it became a hundred times worse when I realized I had been warned about this before by Roman himself.

I was reminded of the first night we kissed in that closet during seven minutes of heaven;

Roman stilled, eventually letting out a hum which sent a shiver down my spine. "You know nothing about nightmares," he breathed against my lips. "If I tell Letha we fucked in here, you'll be living through your worst one."

Oh, if only he'd known how right he was. Now I had no one to run to, no one to seek comfort from, all because of my own stupidity. Not only had I managed to lose all my friends, but now I had lost the one thing I had sacrificed everything for; Roman.

A pit formed in my stomach as I watched him lean closer to her, laughter dancing between them. Didn't he know how much that hurt? Didn't he see me standing here, shattered? I was so lost in the shock, that when Roman turned to face me, revealing that he knew exactly where I was and that I was watching, I barely registered it. My eyes had welled up in tears, looking completely shell-shocked as I watched his smirk immediately falter at the sight of my watery gaze.

In a flash of action, I slammed my locker shut, not bothering to look for my book anymore. I needed to get away. Now.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

When I got home that same day, I had expected to be left in peace-- that was the most logical conclusion. My parents were at a loss with what to do with me, and of course I had no friends reaching out to check up on me. I was quite sure I had hit the lowest of the low, simply sinking into a state of forced apathy as I lay with my face down into my pillow, spreading out on my bed wearing Roman's enormous sweater. I was quite sure I had been like this for hours, not getting up, not eating-- I didn't care anymore.

I couldn't care; it would break me. Just like that sight of Roman with that girl. 

I touched my neck, feeling the soreness of my fading hickeys as lightning struck outside. There were barely any traces now, and the realization that they would be gone in a day or two hit me like a truck. Thankfully, I didn't have many tears left in my body. I lay in the coldness of the puddle of grief I had left on my pillow, shivering as it dawned on me that I might never feel Roman's lips against mine again. Never feel his hands around my waist, never be in the back of his car, and never get to lay in his arms ever again. As the heavy rain continued to tap against my window, every drop felt like a reminder of the moments we'd shared, slipping away.

I remembered that first time Roman smiled at me in class. Every memory came to me; the rush of excitement coursing through my veins during our first kiss, the feeling of laughing with him at that café on our first date, and the way I would sometimes wake up to Roman's arm tightly wrapped around me in a protective, loving embrace. He wanted to hold me, even in sleep. 

He wanted me. Roman Godfrey wanted me, and I threw it all away because of my incessant need for him to commit.

And just as I was about to choke out any remaining tears, I heard a knock at my door. I didn't care to move, knowing my parents knew of my state, as my words got muffled against my pillow; "What is it? I'm not having dinner!"

"That's not it," My parents seemed to be whispering between themselves before one of them continued; "Sweetie... there's a boy for you at the door."

I bounced off of the bed as though I had heard a gunshot, and I landed on the floor with a groan as I crashed down against the hard wood. Wondering whether the thud had sounded through the ceiling downstairs, I realized I didn't have time to think about that; "Okay, give me-- Give me a second!" I got up from the floor, feeling my breath get stuck in my chest as I ran to my mirror, doing my best to fix the way I looked before leaving my room.

My thoughts were racing as I made my way past my parents, realizing they were staying upstairs to give us some space. I didn't need to guess who the boy at the door was-- still, I froze halfway down the stairs at the sight of him.

There he was, drenched in rain. Roman took a deep breath at the sight of me, watching the way his sweater draped over my shoulders with his big, green eyes. He, too, seemed to have frozen to his spot like an icicle, and a thick silence ensued as I gripped onto the banister of the stairs-- I was afraid I'd faint and roll right down. As he stood there, cold and vulnerable, I felt the walls of insecurity I had built up begin to crumble; his presence was both a comfort and a reminder of everything I'd lost.

Even worse was the way I tensed up, ready for him to yell at me and blow up. My grip on the banister tightened to suppress the subtle shake of my hands as I held my breath.

Finally, Roman spoke-- but it was far from what I had imagined him to say; "I don't know what happened. It doesn't make sense," His eyes rounded out, so heartbreakingly sincere. "We were good, and suddenly we weren't. I made sure you were safe from those girls, and then you went and flirted with that assembly guy... It doesn't make any sense."

I let in a long, shaky breath, feeling the guilt seeping through my veins. "I thought... I thought I needed you to say it,"

"Say what?" Roman shivered, clearly cold from his wet clothes. It made me wonder how long he had paced back and forth in the rain before approaching the door. "That I like you?"

My cheeks burned-- "Yeah..."

Another wave of silence ensued as Roman no longer met my gaze, biting his teeth together as he tried to steady his breathing. I could feel hints of his brewing anger beneath his attempts to keep calm; "Did you need me to say it so bad?" he mumbled. "Have I not shown you what I feel for you? Was it not blatantly obvious?"

Everything about his tone made me want to burst into tears-- it made me feel seven again, being told off in front of the whole class. "I'm sorry," I didn't know what else to say, at a loss for words. "You're just so hot and cold sometimes, I thought it would make me feel better if I got it confirmed. I sacrificed so much to be with you, and it was freaking me out that you couldn't say you want to be with me as well... I guess it really got to me."

It was clear that Roman was conflicted, consumed by a storm of thoughts. His green eyes softened, his brows drawing together in a look of melancholic sorrow as he let out a sigh. "I hear you, but it's just... Those girls went after you because you were with me. I know you've had a tough time, and I didn't want to make it any worse for you by making us official... By making my feelings official," His voice trembled, revealing the cracks in his tough exterior-- it was as though the weight of his own fears had finally become too much to bear.

Another wave of guilt washed over me, knowing I had driven him to this point with my schemes. "Why would that make it worse?" I dared to take another step down the stairs, letting go of the banister. "Wouldn't it be a good thing? Don't you think it would've made me feel better?"

Roman's eyes fixated on the laces of his wet shoes, and I watched him change his weight from one foot to the other. It was obvious that he was nervous, especially as he cleared his throat. "I don't think I'd be a good boyfriend," he mumbled. "I shut down. I retaliate when I'm angry. And I don't know whether Letha would ever forgive you if we got into a relationship, and I know that would crush you."

Despite the reminder of Letha, I had to bite down on my bottom lip to suppress my growing smile-- it warmed my heart to hear how he had thought this through down to every last detail. 

Roman was rambling at this point; "I was just so shocked when you went to Daniel, I thought I was going to faint. The way you smiled at him, the way you touched him... I couldn't even look at you these past few days, and then I couldn't stand the silence either, hence that show in the hallway... I just didn't expect you to cry. I fucking lost it,"

I reached the end of the stairs by the time he was done, now close enough to see that his drenched clothes were leaving small puddles of rain along the hardwood floor. "Roman--"

"--And I just don't want to hurt you, y'know?" He finally looked up to meet my gaze, an unfamiliar emotion swimming in his green eyes. There was a certain desperation about him as his words came out like a stream in a never-ending river; "Because even though we're fighting, you're still in my sweater. And even though you're fucking infuriating, I still want to hold you. No matter what people think, you're good. You're sweet, you're kind, you... There is a sanctity about you in my mind. I really don't want to hurt you, but it's fucking inevitable with me! That's just who I am!"

I was batting away tears at this point; "Rome, please, that's not!--"

"--Of course I like you!" Roman's eyes glossed over, letting his emotions shine through his tough exterior at the sound of his new nickname. "If anything, I adore you half to death, and you doubting that makes me feel like I've failed! I've failed to keep you happy, I've failed to make you feel seen, and I'm just-- I'm a mess!"

Attempting to pat away my tears with the sleeve of Roman's sweater, I sniffled as I realized I was unsuccessful, my tears now spilling down my cheeks. Suddenly, many parts of him made sense to me; after finally letting me hear his true, inner thoughts, I had never seen him more clearly than now. 

Roman sniffled as well, head hanging low in shame. "Why would you want a mess?" he echoed, his voice breaking. "I don't want to hurt you. I really, really don't."

Enough-- It was breaking my heart to hear him so broken. I finally dared to step towards him, slowly reaching for his soaked jacket. Roman's eyes widened as he watched me hang it up in the hallway; "What are you?--"

"Stay the night," I placed myself in front of him, having to get up on my tippytoes to brush his wet hair away from his forehead. "My parents probably won't mind if I ask nicely."

Roman's green eyes rounded out with every soft touch against his skin, and he placed his hands over mine as I cupped his face; it dawned on me that I hadn't felt so calm in a while. "I want to be yours, Rome. In every sense of the word," My thumbs stroked over his cheeks, watching his heavy lids fall over his eyes as he keened against my touch, succumbing to the comfort. "So what if you're a mess? You think I'm not, with the way I've been running around you for months like a dog?"

It warmed my heart to hear him laugh, even if it was for a few seconds-- I knew my eyes weren't deceiving me when I spotted a tear or two heavying down his long lashes, making their way out of hiding. 

I had to bat away my own, my voice barely baring through the sentence; "You're much kinder than you think you are, much more gentle... If only I could make you see it yourself," Getting up to his level was impossible, but I was able to tilt his head down enough for me to place a soft kiss between his brows. "I want us to be together. I want us to at least have each other,"

Roman's breath hitched, letting his hands travel down to rest at my waist as he opened his eyes. revealing an ocean of tears about to spill down his rosy cheeks. "We're going to crash and burn,"

"... Let us, then,"

It was as though time stood still in the moments I waited for signs of a yes. My thumbs stroked over his temples, realizing our chests were rising and falling at the same time, trapping us in one breath, one body. For a second, it felt as though Roman and I melted into each other, the green of his eyes engulfing me with a look that told me everything I needed to know. 

Roman's breath was hot and heavy as he searched for the right words. I was sure he'd said enough dumb things for a lifetime to know he needed to choose wisely for once. But hence, his lips curled up into the sweetest smile known to man as he spoke against mine--

"Let us," he breathed. "Let's burn together, then."

(a/n: if you've come this far, thank u so much omg!! here's PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8 if you want to check them out!<33 )

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

The Rift Masterlist

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Marcus Pike x Marcus Acacius x Reader

Rating: E (Explicit smut, 18+ only)

Warnings: Time Travel Nonsense, foursome dynamics (M/M/M/F), lots of mlm action, so if that's not your thing... I'm not really sure what you're doing here. More warnings will be listed under individual chapter headings.

Summary:

Marcus Moreno and the Heroics managed to contain the detonation of a supervillain's black hole bomb in the middle of Washington, DC, but the energy blast created a mysterious crack in the middle of Pennsylvania Avenue. Scientists are calling it a rift in time and space. Marcus Moreno calls it a logistical security nightmare.

Several weeks after the Rift opens, unusually well-preserved ancient Roman artifacts begin to flood the black market, inundating Special Agent Marcus Pike's team with work. He enlists you, a Classical Archaeologist with a focus on Imperial Roman art and a curator at the National Gallery of Art, to assist his team in identifying the growing pile of smuggled artifacts.

Despite the Heroics' desperate attempts to close the Rift, it's only a matter of time before something much larger than gold coins makes its way through the crack in spacetime and onto the streets of DC...

Or:

Three people named Marcus are smooshed together into the same space.

A/N: @leslie-lyman said, "I want all three Marcuses at the same time but also that would be a nightmare to write." I laughed, trying to imagine how on earth someone would bring together a superhero, an FBI Agent, and Roman General. And then I kept thinking about it. And then this entire story happened. Thank you, dear Les for the idea and for egging me on as always. <3 Thank you also to @littlebirdsbookshelf who beta'd this entire work, listened to me scream about it in her DMs at all hours, and most importantly, who never gave up on me when I was convinced that my brain was out of stories.

Table of Contents

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6** Chapter 7 Chapter 8** Chapter 9 Epilogue**

[trippinsorrows]

with me + masterpost

summary: everything about your relationship with this man is wrong. even calling it a relationship is wrong, misleading, inaccurate. the smart thing has always been to run in the opposite direction, but it's always hard to heed to the head when the heart feels so strongly.

pairing: roman reigns x black!reader

status: complete

warnings: angst, fluff, smut, language, suggestive dialogue, strong, recurring theme of infidelity

song inspo: 'with me' by destiny's child

chapter 1 + chapter 2 + chapter 3 + chapter 4 + chapter 5 + chapter 6 + chapter 7 + chapter 8 + chapter 9 + chapter 10 + chapter 11 + chapter 12 + chapter 13 + chapter 14 + chapter 15 + chapter 16 + chapter 17 + chapter 18 + chapter 19 + chapter 20 + chapter 21 + chapter 22

[vclvetfleur]

Obedient

Pairing ▹ Roman Roy x Fem! Reader

Synopsis ▹ After graduating college, you had a hard time finding anything. You were living paycheck to paycheck, until your old college roommate tried to help out with getting you an interview at her job, Waystar Royco. After a mix up, you find out that you were interviewing for Kendall's little brother, Roman. The more time you spent with him, you realized his whole facade of being the weird noisy arrogant douche was just to cover up really dark issues. But how much of it can you take til it just becomes way too much for you? You had your own stuff to deal with.

Notes ▹ I decided to finally start a series about Roman. There is not enough fan fictions about him. There's going to be talks about past traumas and unhealthy coping mechanisms. I plan on making the character have deep rooted trauma as well, but hiding it a lot better than Roman, not as well though. There will be triggers for past child abuse, implied (c)SA, mentions of EDs and some substance abuse. Regardless of the heavy tones, I hope you have fun reading. This is mostly a therapy writing thing.

.・。.・゜✭・.Playlist ・✫・゜・。.

Chapters ▹ Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3 , Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20

[fragilelovelythings]

Chapter 8 is finally up! Aahhh some romencken good ol’ smut <3 and also some surprising Mencken’s jealousy ahead.

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Succession (TV 2018) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jeryd Mencken & Roman Roy, Jeryd Mencken/Roman Roy, Tabitha Hayes & Roman Roy, Gerri Kellman & Roman Roy, Tabitha Hayes/Naomi Pierce Characters: Roman Roy, Tabitha Hayes, Jeryd Mencken, Logan Roy, Naomi Pierce, Gerri Kellman, Connor Roy Additional Tags: Character Study, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Canon Compliant, Daddy Kink, Daddy Issues, Family Issues, Family Dynamics, Episode: s03e06 What It Takes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sibling Rivalry, Friendship, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Eating Disorders, Symbolism, Masturbation Interruptus, Masturbation, Self-Denial, Dream Sex, Wet Dream, Platonic Cuddling, Lucid Dreaming, Private Investigators, POV Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Frottage, Food Kink, Food Porn, Roman Roy Needs a Hug, Roman Roy Has an Orgasm, Roman Roy Has Issues, Roman Roy - Freeform, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Light Dom/sub, Blow Jobs, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Anal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Finger Sucking, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Smoking, chai lattes, lana del rey - Freeform, lana del rey inspired chapter 8, and many other not gonna lie, chapter 8 is basically 24 from honeymoon, Barebacking, Rimming, hot mess jeryd mencken, roman roy gets finally and deliciously fucked, Jealousy, Warning: Jeryd Mencken, Fucking, Fucked Up, let roman roy fuck Summary:

"Roman’s hands clung to Jeryd’s face, lightning pleasure reflecting in his eyes.

Jeryd wanted nothing more than fuck him right there on the floor.

Clear understanding settled in Roman, making him release his head and grab his hand guiding him to his bedroom. His body moved easily, limbs tensed in anxiety soon to be released. He got Jeryd next to the bed, kneeling one knee while taking the same hand to pet his left cheek. The position turned him even smaller which made Jeryd’s eyes half lid.

Silence trapped them both and just hands were needed to get to each other. "

Or how Mecken finally fucks Roman and gets possessive about it.

[joannasteez]

tanks of blood - table of contents

pairing: biker!roman reigns x black reader , biker!cody rhodes x black reader warning: blood and violence. drugs and alcohol. all of the aforementioned will be explicitly stated and described. explicit descriptions of sex, angst and eventual fluff. some chapters will be flashbacks, all of which will have an asterisk next to the link. others will be present time. minors please do not interact with chapters containing aforementioned explicit sexual content. authors note: ok lets try this again. second times a charm. every times a charm as long as i'm having fun! this is probably my oldest roman idea. going way back to before i even started writing for him. shout outs to @333creolelady for CONSTANTLY hearing me rant about this idea lol.

HISTORY

Bloodline Motorcycle Club was founded in the early 1970's and finds its home on the pensacola panhandle.

SOME WORDS

bloodlines are created lovingly. preserved violently. "let there be", and so they came. bursting into existence with a rage akin to the sun, and a daring persistence most similar to life itself. bloodlines are long, some short and others undying. connected through metal and chrome. through blood, bone and tissue. through the love that made them.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

(1) circa '09 * (2) accessories are meant to be worn (3) a funeral, and the second coming back (4) i’ll be your mirror * (5) the trouble was always here (6) the trouble was always here - part 2 (7) eighteen is dangerous * (8) muddy coffee & supermarket cake

ESSENTIALS AND MISCELLANEOUS

the hierarchy

[vlrghoes]

What Once Was | Roman Reigns

Author’s Note: I know I was meant to post Legal Affairs first but this idea has been in my head for so long and I wanted to take the plunge into writing it as I felt I could connect with the characters and the storyline more and managed to already write my first chapter (currently editing.) In future I will finally post Legal Affairs

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Black! Oc

Status: In progress, first chapter to be posted by 25/8/24

TW: Death, grief, overall dark chapter, pregnancy complications (?)

Let me know if you want to be on my tag list and I’ll tag you in future chapters

Joseph Anoa’i is at the peak of his career, his wife Ayanna, dies suddenly during childbirth on the night of his greatest victory at WrestleMania. Overcome with guilt and grief, Joseph is left to navigate the challenges of single parenthood with their newborn twins, struggling to balance the weight of his loss with the demands of raising his children alone.

Years later, Joseph has stepped away from the wrestling spotlight to devote himself to his sons. When he enrolls them in the daycare run by Kimora, a dedicated teacher battling her own health issues—PCOS and the aftermath of an ectopic pregnancy that left her with one fallopian tube—he finds himself slowly drawn to her. Kimora’s compassion and resilience offer a glimmer of hope for both Joseph and his children.

As Kimora helps Joseph’s son with a potential dyslexia diagnosis, she and Joseph begin to form a deep, yet tentative bond. Both must confront their past wounds and navigate their fears about the future.

Joseph and Kimora must face the challenge of reconciling their pasts with their present. As they find solace in each other, they must decide whether they can let go the pain of what once was and embrace the hope of what could be.

Chapter One | Chapter Two

[physalian]

Juggling Multiple POVS (Writing Like A Movie)

At one point in a WIP, I had one character being held captive, two characters on a quest to bust them out, two characters racing to join the jailbreakers, four with no idea any of this is going on because they think they’re all dead, and then of those four, two split off on a side quest, and the remaining two also split off on various other tasks.

If you’re keeping track, that meant I had a book rotating between 6 different subplots and about 9 POVS at the absolute worst, and then about 4 subplots once characters finally reunited with each other.

It was… a lot.

Now this was never published so I don’t know how well it would have been received but it was a sequel and its predecessors received good feedback so I think I know what I’m doing.

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When you’re committing to a book with Multiple POV, you’ve generally got two roads you can go down: predetermined narrators or ~cinematic~.

You can select a set number of characters to narrate regardless of how many exist in your ensemble cast, and no matter how many split off on their own subplots, those predetermined narrators will be keeping up with the story. These types of books tend to have shorter chapters and single narrators for chunks of chapters at a time with no cutting in between and fairly long breaks in between a character’s chunks of POV. Or, they have entire sections of book dedicated to them with clear markers between POVS.

The easy example here is Heroes of Olympus that I believe had up to 4 narrators per book despite a main cast of about 8 characters depending on the book. The first two were 3-POV, for each of the 3 questers, and then once the whole party was together the POVS were determined by who split off into which groups. Rather infamously, in my opinion, the last book of the series did not give a POV to the two legacy characters and the former protagonist of the first series, which was… a choice. I think the point was that Riordan gave them their spotlight in book 4 and was passing the torch to the new batch for book 5, but for many of us, who had no idea we’d never get a POV of these two again, it was mighty disappointing.

These books also had no chapter titles and instead had banner-style chapters where you had NICO or PIPER in massive banners over the start of each chapter, which was also a choice as going without chapter titles (or even numbers, they’re in roman numerals) makes it a lot harder to search things up in books 500+ pages long.

Who narrates when is less determined by who the most important character of the chapter is, for the most part. It might be Hazel’s moment, but she’s not a narrator of this book, so it’s in Piper POV (or Nico’s forced coming out moment in Jason POV which I will never forgive Riordan for). It’s just a dice roll of whoever it lands on which can lead to some moments, like the Nico incident, that really should have been in Nico POV, but the structure of the story demanded otherwise.

I don’t really love this style of multiple POV. Personally, I think it’s rather inflexible and doesn’t take full advantage of what MPOV can do. But that’s personal opinion so here’s some strengths:

It doesn’t jump around as much and with a minimal set of narrators, it’s more streamlined. You know what to expect going in with no surprises

It forces the author to get creative within the bounds of the POV they’re stuck in

The extra time with a single narrator can be a solid guide rail through a complicated plot piece

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Or, you can write a more ~cinematic~ MPOV. I don’t know the proper term for this, if it exists, but this style of MPOV is when you basically free-for-all. Anyone can narrate whenever the scene demands and this either grants you a book with short chapters, but one narrator per short chapter, or multiple narrators within a single chapter, as you’d film a movie or an episode of TV with multiple perspectives per set piece.

This isn’t a random grab-bag of narrators. It demands a lot of restraint. This kind of MPOV is entirely based on who is the most important character of the scene, or who’s POV would be the most interesting to view the scene through.

ENNS is written in cinematic MPOV, with a far smaller rotating cast than the WIP I mentioned at the top of this post. It starts out slow with the protagonist for the first two chapters as the only narrator, then mid-chapter 3, I give a cue that he’s going to be unable to narrate the next bit, and I switch to my deuteragonist. I don’t give banner headings. I don’t give my characters entire chapters because the POV structure demands it. I just start whichever POV with the narrator’s name within the first 1-3 sentences. If that means one character has an entire chapter to themselves, then at this point in the story, their arc is the most important thing to be focusing on.

In the WIP at the top of the post, it was book 3 of a series which gave me some freedom. Namely that most of those 9 POVs were established characters you’d already be familiar with. I wasn’t throwing my audience into the deep end with 9 strangers and demanding they try to keep up with 6 subplots of equally confusing and unknown characters.

Cinematic MPOV should rely less on “who hasn’t narrated in a while let’s give it to them” and more “who would be the most interesting narrator for this moment”. You could have a villain POV, a one-off that might never narrate again, or a tertiary character who isn’t doing the most action in the scene, but has the richest commentary on what’s going on.

It does demand restraint. If anyone can pick up the narrator hat, then you could find yourself splitting off into unnecessary subplots. Not every piece of the story must be told and letting readers imagine what’s going on behind closed doors is sometimes better than detailing it all out. I could give a captive or missing character some POVS, or I could let the audience anxiously stew with the rest of the cast wondering if they’re even still alive.

In some books I’ve read, the deliberate choice to not let readers see into the mind of a character as they make important decisions, left on the outs with their friend or lover or relative, is maddeningly entertaining. They won’t explain themselves to the people who care about them, and they won’t explain themselves to the audience, either.

Or, you can let a side character have the spotlight for a scene or two as we see our favorites through their eyes, possibly in a way they’ve never been depicted before. A’s lover B might describe them as strong and brash. A’s old rival C might describe those same actions completely differently.

—

In terms of who narrates when, like the 9-POV monster I had going, I had key moments of every POV that had to hit the book's physical layout at specific times. Like episodes of TV, I needed certain scenes and moments and reveals to fit within specific chapters, not dangling off on either end.

I had to remember the time scale that all of this was happening on so every scene that was meant to happen simultaneously actually read like it was all going on at once. I had some chapters with the “A” group of narrators, then skipped them for a chapter for the “B” group of narrators for their scenes. Keeping the pacing as frenetic as it needed to be wasn’t easy, but if you can pull it off, I think it can be quite entertaining.

Some things to keep in mind with MPOV:

Don’t retread the same scenes or conversations. I read a fanfic a very long time ago that had I think 10 different takes on one character’s death with the dialogue copy-pasted over and over again and it was exhausting. If you want to have a character reflect on a previous scene, pull the specific lines as they remember them.

Unless messing up the timeline is the point of the story or you make it very clear that a scene happens before the present, don’t let POVs muck up the continuity. If plot happens on a Wednesday and the next scene is more important plot that happens that previous Tuesday, you might confuse your readers on when everything is meant to be happening.

Sometimes not knowing is better. Prequels tend to fail because whatever fans imagined happening is way better than what the writers explicitly show happening. Practice restraint.

Unless your story is paced very slowly, try not to have POVS butt up right against each other every time. In an action set piece, everything happens in sequence with zero black space between them. But a whole book with zero room to breathe can get tiring to read. Books with a single narrator have scene breaks and mini time skips, not every single part of your characters’ day has to be detailed.

If you don’t have banners, make it clear as quickly as possible who the new narrator is. Eventually, if your narration is distinct enough for each character, you can go a paragraph or two and your audience will know who it is anyway just based on how they think.

If these are all unknown characters, try to hop around minimally at first until you establish a clear protagonist, otherwise your readers might get lost on who the focus of the story is meant to be and lose which character is doing or thinking what.

*ETA: I forgot: typically with multiple narrators for a single “group”, like two characters stuck on a side quest together, I try to flip-flop their POVS. For example, if I have D and E with a whole chapter to themselves, the POV structure would go D E D E. To my eyes, it looks better, as they have equal share of the action. I try very hard to not let any one narrator have back-to-back POVS unless the narrative demands otherwise. But that’s just me.

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This is personal opinion on what I think works. If you’re struggling on maintaining pacing or clarity with your ensemble cast, consider the above points. Hope this helps!