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snowdice · 3 years

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 81]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36

I have a meeting in an hour and a half, but I want to do some actual proofreading for once lol.

Chapter 37 (Virgil)

Virgil had not spent a lot of time out of Logan’s room. What little time he had spent outside of it was either with Patton and/or Logan or tucked away in secret corridors he found in the walls where no one would stumble upon him. Yet, here he was willingly in a, well, not public by any means place, but one that was still more exposed than he was used to being in. Somehow, he was managing to not care at all.

It was helped by the fact that both Logan and Patton had been in the room at the start, but they had gone off to go… somewhere. Food sounded like it might have been the reason.

He liked food, and usually he would have been all for going to get some, but between them promising to bring him back some and the fact that he was never going to move ever again, he’d decided to stay.

Princess Marisol seemed to be the only other rational being in the whole castle because she had also not moved since discovering the contents of this room. She was currently laying on his chest purring happily.

The fireplace was a wonderful invention. Now, Virgil had, of course, warmed up by a fire before when it was cold, but this was much different. There was a grate that blocked off the fire a bit keeping it from burning the person in front of it and there was a plush rug right by it, perfect for laying down on. Someone had known what they were doing when designing this room.

He didn’t even care that the king had access to this sitting room as well as Logan.

…

Okay, so he did care a little bit, but he was ignoring that. He was probably busy this time of day anyway, right?

…

He really didn’t want to run into him after being caught watching the castle workers set up the bigger fireplaces. Kings probably didn’t like people sneaking around watching things from the shadows even when they didn’t know that the person sneaking around was literally sent to kill them.

Princess Marisol must have had a sixth sense for his anxieties (or he’d just started breathing faster and disturbed her) because she stirred a bit.

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She started up a calming purr as she moved to gently kneed his chest. “That sort of hurts,” he noted idly as she dug her little paws into his sternum. She responded by purring more. He moved his arm to scratch behind her ear.

Virgil still was feeling a little bit anxious about the fact that he was out in the open, though he very much did not want to leave the room with the nice fire, and Patton and Logan would be back soon anyway. He should find some way to distract himself, and, well, the best way to distract himself was to investigate his environment, and it had the added benefit of making him feel safer.

He carefully turned to his side to gently deposit Princess Marisol on the rug. She gave an insulted ‘mew,’ but quickly forgot her ire to sprawl across the ground with her belly to the fireplace. Virgil got to his feet and eyed the room as a whole.

It was fancy, to be sure, but a lot more homely than he’d expect to be in the royal wing. Logan’s bedroom was much more extravagant than this. It was closer to what he’d expect in the home of a financially stable, but not well-off family’s home both in contents and décor.

There was a nice, but older looking couch that was probably older than Logan, perhaps even older than the king. It was huge though and comfy looking. It had two chairs that weren’t quite matching but were close enough and a table in front of it that had slightly chipped wood. A seemingly random set of pillows was on it, none quite matching the rest, but all sort of earthy browns and greens. There were bookshelves stuffed with books of all different shapes and sizes, and a giant painting of a turkey of all things over the fireplace. The fireplace itself was probably the fanciest thing in the room.

Most of the fireplace was made out of bricks, though it had a wooden outline a good distance from the fire, and there was an ornate iron grate in front of it with pretty little leaf designs. On top of the mantle were little figurines that grabbed Virgil’s attention. They were small little wooden things carved into animals. Some were painted and some left the wood to be exposed. There were a good number of horses, but there were also things like rabbits and birds. There was even a few creatures Virgil did not recognize himself. They ranged in size from only about as big as his thumb to about as big as his hand.

He leaned closer to take a better look at them, careful to keep his legs away from the hot iron grate, though he could still feel the intense heat from how close he was. He did not dare touch them. The room may seem like it did not belong in a castle, but it still was in one, and who knows how expensive or important the little figures were.

He settled his chin on the edge of the mantel, getting as close to the decorations as he dared, his eyes locked on a little robin that had been painted orange and grey with a bright yellow beak and eyes that almost looked alive.

He spent a good minute staring at the wooden creature, before finally drawing back.

“They’re nice, aren’t they?” a voice asked, and Virgil just about jumped onto the ceiling, but there weren’t any good footholds, and the ceiling wasn’t very high besides and wouldn’t give much cover. “And that is why I waited until you stepped back,” the same voice said and perhaps it sounded a bit amused, but Virgil was not focusing on that.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered, cringing back. Why did he always have to be screwing something up when the king came upon him. Why did the universe hate him?

“Oh, it’s okay,” the king said. He was still by the door, having only paused outside of the room instead of coming in. “You weren’t doing anything wrong.”

He certainly had been doing something wrong even if he was allowed to get that close to little things that seemed so fragile (which he almost definitely wasn’t) or be in one of the royal rooms without Patton or Logan in sight. Virgil had come here to kill this man even if he didn’t know it. He was an assassin in one of the private royal chambers. If the king had any idea, Virgil would be dead

He made as though to take a step into the room, but he paused when he saw Virgil take a step back and grimaced. “I’ll, uh, just be going,” he said. “You can stay. You can look at the figurines all you want.”

Virgil looked at the man’s feet and didn’t say anything. He hoped he didn’t take that as an insult.

“Okay,” the king said. “Goodbye.”

He walked off then, likely to his own private room. When the footsteps faded, Virgil bent down to pick up Princess Marisol, who meowed her complaints at being pulled from the fire. He snuck quietly back into Logan’s room.

Logan and Patton found him in the closet 10 minutes later.

Chapter 38 (Patton)

It was a bad day for Virgil. Now, Virgil had been skittish for the past few days ever since Patton and Logan had left him half asleep on the sitting room rug and came back to him crammed into a closet with Princess Marisol for company. He hadn’t told them what had happened, but obviously something had, and he’d been jumpy ever since. However, today seemed even worse.

The snow outside had only gotten thicker in the last few days since the first snowfall, and it had put Virgil’s anxieties through the roof. Often literally.

This morning, Logan had a meeting with his Dad, and so it was Patton’s job to coax the boy out of his closet. He’d reportedly slept in Logan’s bed but had stalked off to huddle in on himself in the closet as soon as Logan had had to get up.

Patton entered Logan’s bedroom to a greeting meow from Princess Marisol. She, at least, was still in bed, happily perched on Logan’s pillow. “Oh, sweetie,” Patton said. “You know Logan doesn’t like cat hair on his stuff. She just purred happily, and Patton didn’t bother to push the issue any further. Instead, he turned to the closet.

He tapped twice. “Hey, Virgil, honey. Are you in there?” he asked, though he already was fairly certain of the answer.

There was a pause and then Virgil called back. “Yeah.”

“Can I open the door?”

A longer pause.

“Can I open the door long enough to join you in there?”

“…Sure.”

With the granted permission, Patton reached for the doorknob. He didn’t open it much, just enough to slip inside. He closed the door behind him. He’d seen the general position of the Virgil sized blob on the floor and so was able to carefully lower himself down a couple of inches away without sitting on him.

“Hey,” he said after settling with his head on his arm. He faced Virgil even though he couldn’t see him in the darkness of the closet. He reached out a hand and felt a head of hair.

“Hi,” he replied.

Patton’s hand wandered a bit until it landed somewhere on his back.

“Not feeling great, huh?” he asked. Virgil’s shoulder blade shifted under his palm and there was a rustle of fabric. Then a boney chin landed on the top of his shoulder. “That’s okay,” Patton said, patting his back. “We can lay in the closet for a bit.” Patton could feel his breath brush past his ear.

They eventually wiggled around into a slightly less awkward cuddling position, with Virgil’s forehead against Patton’s chest and Patton’s arms around his back so he could squeeze him lightly every so often. Virgil fell back asleep for a bit in Patton’s arms, and when he woke again, he seemed to be a bit better. At least, he reached over to activate the constellation lights Logan had made him.

Patton blinked, finally able to see him a little bit. He smiled at the other boy. “Ready to come out of the closet, you think?”

Virgil frowned.

“How about sit in the closet, but with the door open so we can do something?”

“Maybe,” Virgil whispered.

“Okay,” Patton said, leaning forward to kiss him on the nose before sitting up and opening the closet door a crack. “What do you want to do?”

“Don’t care,” Virgil said, hiding his face half in his blanket, but at least he seemed mostly okay with having the door open.

“Hmm,” Patton said, thinking. “Do you like drawing?”

Virgil shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Hmm, well, let’s try drawing!” Patton suggested. “That always calms me down. I’m sure I left some supplies in Logan’s room somewhere.” Patton crawled out of the closet and started rooting through Logan’s drawers until he found where he’d stashed a bunch of blank paper and some drawing supplies. “Here,” he said, dumping most of it on the ground.

Virgil’s eyes darted over to the supplies, and he slowly sat up. “How do I do it?” he asked.

“You mostly just get a piece of paper,” he said, “and something colorful and you draw!”

Virgil squinted at him.

“It’s not hard,” he promised. “Just watch me.”

Patton grabbed one of the colorful pens and set a piece of blank paper on a tray he’d brought over. He drew a slightly messy bumble bee and colored it in with yellow. Virgil watched him carefully like he was trying to memorize every slight shift Patton’s hand made.

“Tada!” Patton said when he was done. “A bee. Now you draw something.”

Virgil nodded with an adorable little determined furrow to his brow and moved to copy Patton’s actions. Exactly.

“That’s great honey,” Patton said once he’d finished his drawing, “but, uh, you don’t have to also draw a bee. You can draw anything you want!”

He frowned down at his bee and then frowned at Patton. Patton sighed. “Pick something you like,” he said, “and try to draw it. Or just make colorful designs. I do that sometimes. It’s just supposed to be for relaxing. Here,” he picked up a blue pen and handed it to him. “Draw something that’s blue.”

Virgil took the pen and grabbed another piece of paper. He hesitated. “Just draw anything?” he asked.

“Yep!” Patton replied cheerfully. “You could draw water or the sky or a sapphire gem. Or you can pick up a different color.”

He nodded and turned back to his piece of paper.

Patton kind of wanted to just stare at him work, but thought he probably would not appreciate that, so he turned back to his own drawing. He decided to draw a red bird this time. After a while Virgil’s hand hesitantly reached out to grab the green pen. Patton glanced up to give him a quick smile, and he took the green pen with more confidence.

After a few more minutes, he noticed Virgil set the green pen down and not pick anything else up. “Done?” he asked. Virgil nodded and Patton looked over.

“Very pretty,” he said with a smile when he saw the messy, but identifiable blue flower.

“It doesn’t look like it does in my head,” Virgil said.

“Well, drawing takes practice, and even after you practice sometimes it doesn’t have to look like what’s in your head! Some people make it look slightly wrong on purpose.”

“Why?”

“Art!”

Virgil squinted at him and then squinted at his drawing. “This is art.”

“It’s very beautiful art,” Patton said. “We should put it up somewhere!”

“Where?”

“I don’t know,” said Patton somewhere in the room, “like over by the window! That way you can see a flower even when it’s snowing.”

Virgil hesitated. “Would Logan be okay with that?” he asked. “It’s his room.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine with it,” Patton said with a smile.

“If you’re sure,” he said softly.

“I am! We’ll show him later once he’s done with his meetings with his dad and I’ve finished my lessons with the king’s royal advisor this afternoon.”

Chapter 39 (Logan)

Logan was glad to see when Patton brought Virgil to meet him at the library that the boy seemed to be doing slightly better than he had been that morning. He still was clearly a bit jumpy and didn’t seem interested in his normal library bound activities, that being exploring the library and climbing on top of shelves/somehow getting into walls. Instead, he basically hid behind Logan, taking a seat half under his desk on the side facing away from the door.

Patton had to leave to go have a few meetings, leaving the two of them alone.

“Would you like a book?” Logan asked the boy hiding under his desk.

“Sure,” he said softly, and Logan handed him one of the children’s books he’d been trying to read. He took it and set it in his lap.

“Tell me if you need anything,” Logan instructed, before turning back to his own book about reading Sanskrit.

Weight pressed against his leg a few minutes later and Logan idly reached down a hand to touch the top of Virgil’s head, stroking through his hair softly a few times. It was luckily warm at Logan’s desk despite being by the window. Being cold always made Virgil more distressed.

He glanced down after a bit of hair petting only to see Virgil not reading his book and instead looking up at him.

“Everything alright?” Logan asked.

Virgil watched him for a long moment, his eyes focused and intent. “Why are you being nice to me?” he finally asked.

Logan looked at him, confused. “Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” he asked. He did not get a response. He just got dark, intense eyes seeming to stare into his soul. “You haven’t done anything to make me want to be mean to you.”

“Yes, I have,” Virgil said simply.

“Well,” Logan conceded. “Nothing recently. You didn’t get particularly far with the… action that could have made me unhappy anyway.”

“I could have.”

“You didn’t.”

“Does it matter?”

“I think it does,” Logan said. He’d paused the petting of Virgil’s hair when he’d spoken, but softly ran his hand through it again now. Virgil pulled away from him.

“I don’t,” he said.

“Well, seeing as it is my affection we are talking about, I imagine my opinion matters more,” Logan stated calmly. Something about that sentence appeared to have been the wrong thing to say because Virgil scowled at him.

“You’re stupid,” he said.

“There is significant evidence that contradicts that statement,” Logan said. “Case in point,” he gestured to the desktop, “I am currently reading a book about a dead language…”

“Yeah, well there is significant evidence that supports that statement,” Virgil sassed back.

“Oh?” Logan asked, “and what would that be?”

He’d had a bit of a bite to his words before, but he seemed to deflate now. He looked down and mumbled something.

“What was that?” Logan asked. “I would appreciate knowing your evidence for your opinion.”

He stared at Logan’s knees instead of looking up at him, teeth clenched. “You should have killed me,” he said firmly.

Logan swallowed the sudden bile in his throat at the very thought. He was unsure if he was prepared for this conversation wherever it was going, and very much wished Virgil had decided to have this emotional incident when Patton was here as well. Or better yet when only Patton was here. “I disagree,” Logan said.

“Then you’re stupid,” Virgil said darkly.

Logan looked down at him for a moment and then pushed his chair back, slowly as to not startle him too bad. Just as slow, he folded himself down to his knees. Virgil wouldn’t look at him, eyes resolute on his own knees. He was tense as a bowstring ready to snap. He didn’t move even as Logan settled in front of him.

“I am glad that you are here,” Logan said. “That you are not dead. If that makes me stupid, then so be it.”

Virgil did not respond. He didn’t even twitch or move his eyes to look at Logan.

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Logan sighed. “What is wrong?” he asked. “I know it’s been colder outside and that makes you increasingly anxious, but you are perfectly fine inside. You don’t need to worry here.”

He still did not respond.

“Virgil,” Logan called. “Look at me.”

For a moment he thought Virgil wouldn’t do so, but he twitched once and then slowly looked up at him.

Logan smiled at him softly. “It’s alright, Virgil.”

Virgil shook his head.

“Yes,” Logan said insistently. “I will make sure it’s alright.”

“You can’t promise that,” he finally said.

“I’m the prince,” Logan said with a half-smile. “I can promise whatever I like.”

“Something will go wrong,” Virgil insisted.

“What will?”

“Something,” Virgil said.

Logan raised one eyebrow. “You are worried about something, and you cannot even articulate what the threat is?” he asked.

“Something will happen,” he snapped. “Something will happen or someone will figure something out or I’ll mess up or something.”

“I will make sure nothing goes wrong,” Logan promised. “Even if it does, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

“And if it’s because I mess up?” Virgil asked.

“I’ll still make sure nothing bad happens,” Logan said.

Virgil scoffed. “What if what I mess up makes you mad?”

“I don’t think you could do anything that would make me made mad enough not to want to help you.”

“I could,” he said darkly.

Logan paused. “You could,” he agreed. Logan was after all aware he was a trained assassin even though it was easy to forget, “but you also couldn’t.” He’d already proven that well enough to Logan.

Virgil stared at him. He did not deny it. “You don’t know me,” he said instead. “You don’t know that for sure.”

“I know plenty about you Virgil. Including that.”

He frowned and turned his face away to hide it in his knees.

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“Virgil,” Logan sighed after a few seconds. Virgil just went somehow even more tense than he’d been for this entire conversation, clenching his arms around his legs. Logan was silent for a couple of seconds hoping he’d calm down on his own a bit, but the opposite seemed to happen. His breath began to hitch after a few seconds and Logan noticed tears building in his eyes. Logan winced. He was not the right person for this, but he was the only one there. “It’s alright Virgil,” he said. “Can I help in any way?”

Virgil did not seem to hear him, caught up in his own head. His breath began to come faster by the moment, and Logan didn’t know how to calm him. What would Patton do?

Logan slowly reached out to put a hand in his hair much like he had earlier while seated at the desk. Logan quickly realized this was the wrong move as Virgil flinched back at being touched, head shooting up to look at him, or more accurately through him.

The next thing Logan knew there was a sharp sting on his cheek. It took a second for Logan to register what had just happened, but by the time he did, Virgil clearly had snapped back to himself and looked aghast.

“Virgil,” he said slowly, and that was clearly also the wrong thing to do because speaking startled Virgil out of his horrified daze, and he went scrambling out from under the desk. “Wait! Virgil!” he called, bumping his head against the top of the desk. It hurt much worse than the slap had a moment before had and the pain forced him to pause for a moment. By the time he managed to make it out from under the desk, Virgil was long gone.

Chapter 40 (Thomas)

Thomas wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to do in this sort of situation. It had been three days since Logan had come to him in a panic saying that Virgil had ran off somewhere and he couldn’t find him. Apparently, the boy had been panicking and had accidentally slapped Logan before freaking out and running away. No one had seen him since, not for lack of trying. They had searched all over the castle and the grounds, but Virgil was nowhere to be found. Thomas just hoped he was still in the castle and hadn’t tried to go outside.

It had been blizzarding for the past week on and off. It made Thomas and everyone else worry about the child.

Logan and Patton said he did not like the cold and had refused to go outside, so that was a point in favor of him still being in the castle somewhere. Normally, the fact that they couldn’t find him in three days despite having many people looking for him, would indicate he was not still here, but thinking back to the hide-and-seek debacle, it was entirely likely he’d just stuffed himself in some secret passageway somewhere.

At least, that is what Thomas assured Logan to comfort him.

He sighed and got up from his desk where he’d been working on penning a letter to the Queen of Lamir to check in with her. The snow should be letting up in a couple of days long enough to get a letter out by means of carrier dove. He decided to take it to the dovecoat now and leave it with one of the handlers.

He left the room and wandered down the hallway, turning right instead of left like he normally would when he was going back to the royal wing. Instead, he took a path he didn’t often take that would lead to a staircase that let out at the door nearest the dovecoat.

As he passed through a hall with a bunch of old portraits, he suddenly remembered something from when he was young and stopped by a picture of a woman hanging across from a small bench. There was a secret passage there that he’d found when he was only 12 and had only ever shown to one other person before. It was just a room with nothing much special about it other than the fact that it was hidden away. Usually, he’d just pass it by, but today he was thinking about Virgil lost (hopefully) somewhere in the castle who liked secret passages.

It wouldn’t hurt to check one of the few secret areas Thomas knew about for signs of life, would it?

That in mind, he walked over to the painting and ran his hand along the side of it until he found a place he could push his fingers into. He pulled and the painting swung out to reveal a small door. He opened the door into a room a bit smaller than his own bedroom. Despite not having any heating elements since it was a secret room, it was still fairly warm since there were rooms around it that were heated.

Thomas reached over to fumble with the lights he’d sneakily installed when he was a child, and the space was suddenly filled with dim light.

He closed the door behind himself and stepped into the room. He glanced around for anything out of place, though it had been a while since he’d been in here. He squinted at the very limited amount of furniture and had just walked across the room to look at an old chest when he heard a noise from somewhere in the room.

Thomas looked towards where the noise was coming from and was surprised to hear the sound of something sliding right before a head of dark hair popped up. Virgil lithely pulled himself out of the hole in the ground and shut it behind him.

Thomas froze. Sure, he’d come in here specifically to look for signs of Virgil, but he had not been prepared for Virgil to suddenly crawl out of the floor. He hadn’t even realized there was a second entrance in this room.

Virgil didn’t notice him from Thomas’s spot on the other side of the room. Thomas wasn’t sure what to do. Virgil was always quick to startle, especially around Thomas. If he said something, surely the boy would disappear back down the tunnel he’d just left.

Virgil took a few all but silent steps towards the side of the room opposite from Thomas.

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Thomas was still trying to figure out what to do when Virgil suddenly stopped. He tilted his head to look up at the lights Thomas had turned on when entering the room. Then his eyes shot to Thomas.

“Uh,” Thomas said. “Hi.” Silence. “Please don’…”

Virgil turned tail and sprinted to the opposite side of the room, scaling an old bookshelf that tottered dangerously under his weight.

“… t run.”

He had the instinct to chase after him, worried that there was another entrance he’d dart through and be gone forever, but he stifled it. That would just terrify the poor thing even more.

“Uh,” Thomas said, not entirely sure he wasn’t speaking to an empty room as he could not see Virgil anymore. “It’s okay.” He paused. “Logan’s not mad. No one is. Both him and Patton are very worried though. We’d all appreciate if you came out.” He paused again and only got silence in return.

Cautiously he took a couple of steps towards the other side of the room.

“Please?” he said.

When there was again no response, he took a couple more steps towards the bookshelf until he was standing directly in front of it. He just barely managed to catch a glint of the dim room lights reflecting off a pair of dark brown eyes.

He was not just talking to an empty room then.

“Hey there,” he said softly. The eyes disappeared immediately, but now Thomas knew they were there. “Alright.” He wished he could get someone else for this conversation, but there was no way he could leave and come back to Virgil still there. Instead, he took a seat on the ground a couple of feet away from the bookshelf. He thought for a moment. “You know, I found this place myself,” he said. “I never knew that trap door was there though. You’re pretty good at finding tunnels.” He leaned back a bit, trying to catch a glimpse of the top of the bookshelf.

“I used to keep some food here at one point, but I’m afraid even if I left anything it’d be a little bad at this point.” Thomas thought for a moment. “I hope you’ve eaten something recently. The kitchen is open for you whenever you want food, though I’m sure Patton’s mom would like to make you something special. She’s been worried. You know how she is when people miss meals. Everyone’s been worried.”

He let it hang in silence again, and to his surprise there was just a bit of shifting from the top of the bookshelf. “Why?” Virgil’s voice asked.

“Well,” Thomas answered, “because a lot of people around here care about you.”

“I hit Logan,” he said, clearly assuming that Thomas didn’t know.

“I know,” Thomas said.

“He’s the prince,” Virgil pointed out.

“Maybe,” Thomas said, “but he’s also your friend. He cares about you more than he does about getting slapped once when you were clearly in distress. In fact, he was never mad at all about it. He was just worried about how you responded. It seems like you didn’t come here from the best place and we were a little worried we might not see you again if you got too startled.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Virgil said.

“It does to me,” Thomas said. “I wish it did to you.”

Silence once again greeted his words.

“Are you going to come down from there at some point?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Thomas shrugged. “Well, I’m not going to be leaving until you do,” he said.

“So eventually the royal guards are just going to tear me down,” he concluded.

“Well, no one knows I’m here,” Thomas said. “I came on a whim. The only person I ever told about this place is already dead. I doubt they’ll find us.”

“You’re the king,” Virgil said. “You shouldn’t be somewhere that people don’t know where you all. What if…?”

“Hmm?” Thomas prompted.

“What if an assassin attacks you or something?”

“I doubt an assassin is going to come find me in this little room no one knows about but us,” Thomas said with a smile.

There was a pause. “Your as bad as Logan with your safety,” he grumbled and Thomas just chuckled. Then, after a moment, Virgil said, “Are you really not mad that I hit your son.”

“No, Virgil,” Thomas said. “I know it was an accident. I understand.”

He didn’t respond for a long moment, and Thomas was content to wait for him to think it through for however long he needed.

“Logan really isn’t mad?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Thomas promised. “He’s not.”

And then, blessedly, he heard movement from the top of the bookshelf. Virgil slowly climbed down, and Thomas didn’t dare stand up or really move at all other than breathing.

“Ready to come out of the tunnels now?” he asked after a few minutes of stalemate while Virgil watched him like he expected Thomas to leap forward and bite him.

He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay,” said Thomas. “Good.”

Chapter 41 Arc III: Bonding with the King (Virgil)

Virgil, despite deciding to believe the king when he said he said no one was angry with him, was still half surprised when he wasn’t immediately thrown into the dungeon. He didn’t even call the guards. Instead, he just calmly led Virgil down a set of stairs with a warm, not restraining, hand on his shoulder.

Virgil didn’t know what to think. He didn’t understand how he could not be in trouble for smacking the prince, but he was also cold, tired, and hungry from his days spent in the castle walls. He’d once been used to being all of those things, but now after only living in the castle for a little over a month, they stung a little harder.

He’d memorized enough about the castle layout to know they were going in the direction of the kitchen. He also knew that it was midafternoon between lunch and supper being served. There weren’t many people in their path except for the guards and they didn’t even give him a second glance.

The king took Virgil through the same side entrance Patton and Logan often used instead of through the dining hall. Patton’s mom’s office door was closed and instead of going all the way to the kitchen, the king paused to knock on it.

“Helen,” the king called through the door. “Would you mind coming out here please?”

“Just a moment,” was called back through the door and after just a few seconds the door was opening. Her eyes landed on him immediately looking seemingly relieved. “Virgil,” she said. “Goodness where have you been? Patton’s been worried sick.”

Virgil bit his lip, unsure what to say to that. He’d assumed Patton would be mad at him too when he learned he’d hit Logan, but then again, according to the king not even Logan was mad.

“Would you mind making something for him to eat?” the king asked.

Her eyes snapped to him. “Oh, yes, of course. Virgil, sweetie, what do you want?”

Virgil just shrugged.

“Ham sandwich for now,” she said studying him, “and then I’ll make something more for dinner. Let me go grab your meal preference cards.” She stepped back into her office and grabbed a little box off of her desk full of the little cards she always sent with and new food she served Virgil, so he could rank them.

Virgil watched, confused. He never did quite understand Helen with her endless willingness to feed him and to get his opinion about what she fed him with. She always reminded him of Patton with how kind she often was, though she was a little stricter than Patton could ever have the heart to be.

There was no sternness to her now, however. She was fussing over him as she led them to the kitchen and started warming water for tea before grabbing the ingredients needed for the promised ham sandwich.

She made him clean his hands of the dirt and dust they’d acquired from days crawling through secret passageways before handing him the sandwich. Thomas at one point stepped out of the kitchen for a few moments but was back quickly with a smile. Virgil smiled back at him hesitantly. He was still surprised he was in the kitchen drinking warm tea and eating a sandwich as the head chef personally fretted over him.

The king also accepted a mug of tea and didn’t even watch over it closely despite Virgil sitting right there in poisoning distance. Instead of looking worried or angry when he noticed Virgil staring at him and his mug, he simply smiled softly and ask him if he needed more tea.

This man… was an idiot.

Virgil had thought that Logan wasn’t careful about his own personal safety, but apparently Logan had actually improved upon his family’s habit of being reckless. Virgil would have to complement him and provide him with more opportunities for growth if he was that willing to grow and adapt.

…If Logan didn’t hate him now.

Thomas said he wasn’t mad, but he could be lying or wrong. Virgil had hit Logan. He knew he was never fond of people who hit him. Virgil hadn’t meant to do it, but he still had. Or even if he wasn’t actively mad, there was the possibility that he wouldn’t like Virgil anymore. That was almost worse because people who were mad might eventually calm down and forgive you, but if someone just decides emotionlessly they don’t like you anymore, that’s a lot harder to reverse.

Logan had always been nice to him despite being a prince who didn’t need to give him the time of day and despite knowing why Virgil had come here.

Logan was his friend. He didn’t want to lose that.

He finished off the ham sandwich pretty quickly and Patton’s mom almost immediately set down a plate of cheese and crackers.

“Thank you,” Virgil said softly.

“Of course,” Ms. Heart said, and Virgil jumped a bit in surprise when a hand touched his head, but calmed down after just a moment. It wasn’t that different than Patton, though he wasn’t that used to adults touching him. At least not gently or at all in the castle. “I’m glad you’re okay.” The hand stayed in his hair for only a second longer before pulling away. “Hmm,” she said. “Have you been living in the walls perchance?”

Virgil nodded at her.

“Ah,” she said, wiping off her hand on her apron. “Perhaps a bath would be in order after you finish eating.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

“More tea?”

He nodded again and she moved to take his mug over to the kettle. He turned to pop one of the crackers with cheese into his mouth and was still chewing when the nearest door suddenly sprung open.

He flinched, looking up to see Logan in the doorway, breathing like he’d run all the way from the other side of the castle. “Virgil,” he said sounding relieved. He’d crossed the room before Virgil had a chance to get anxious and was wrapping him up in a hug before he could do more than lightly flinch in surprise. “Thank goodness you’re okay. Where have you been?”

“In the walls,” Virgil replied.

Logan rubbed a circle into his back. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Virgil jerked in surprise. “Why are you sorry.”

“I made you run away,” he said. “You were scared of me.”

“I hit you,” Virgil said confused.

“It was an accident. You were having a bad day and I touched you without permission. It was my fault.”

“I…” Virgil said, “but…”

“I’m not going to be angry when it was just an accident, Virgil,” Logan said.

Virgil didn’t know what to say. He tucked his head against Logan’s shoulder and sniffled a bit. “Sorry anyway,” he said.

“It’s okay,” Logan said. Virgil felt a kiss being pressed to his forehead. “Patton and I were really worried.”

“Oh,” he said. Tears started to leak from his eyes as he sniffled more. Logan just held hugged him tighter. “Sorry,” he said again.

“Hush,” was the response. The hug continued for a long few moments before Logan pulled back. “You are very dirty,” he commented.

“You’re a bit dirty too,” Ms. Heart pointed out. Logan glanced down at his front. You could see an outline of Virgil’s body on his clothes.

“Ah,” he said. “It seems I am.” He seemed amused though, and honestly if he wasn’t going to be mad at Virgil for slapping him and then running away and hiding, he probably wasn’t going to be mad about that.

The king and Patton’s mom also didn’t seem unhappy with him getting the prince messy when he glanced at them. Ms. Heart seemed amused and the king was just smiling.

Virgil felt himself calming down more than he had in days, assured that Logan didn’t hate him and tentatively trusting that neither of the adults planned to lash out at him anytime soon. Ms. Heart handed him his refilled mug of tea and pointed him back at the food. Virgil relaxed fully into his chair.

Until, of course, the door blasted back open, word having gotten to Patton who proceeded to strangle him with a hug and cry at him loudly, but that was okay too.

Chapter 42 (Patton)

“Come on,” Patton said. “You’re already all dressed up.”

Virgil made a dissatisfied noise like a cat that had just been picked up from its spot on a heated blanket.

“We’ll barely be outside five minutes,” Patton said. “You won’t even notice the cold.”

“Will so,” Virgil argued back.

Virgil’s return to the castle proper had been very relieving. Everyone had been content to let him curl up on the floor near the fireplace and sleep for the past couple of weeks, but life did move on and Patton and Logan had talked. They had agreed that Virgil’s constant anxiety about the weather probably wasn’t good for him.

They’d brought it up to Virgil gently and, while they’d had to dial it back on things like actually playing in the snow, the suggestion that they take the short trip from the castle proper to the horse stables was met with some interest. However, now that the time had come to make the trek, he seemed to be having doubts.

“Honestly,” Logan said. “I don’t think you’ll even feel the cold in that get up.”

They had, indeed covered the boy from head to toe. He currently looked a couple of inches taller and wider than he actually was bundled up with every piece of extra snow gear they could find.

He looked adorable with only his eyes uncovered even if said eyes were glaring at them both. However, Patton was a little worried he’d overheat if they didn’t leave soon.

“I don’t like snow,” Virgil said.

“We know, Virgil,” Logan said. That was the problem. They were hoping that a little minimal exposure would help him calm down just a bit. “The path’s been cleared of snow and ice though and it isn’t that much of a walk. You’ll be fine and then we’ll be able to look at all of the horses.”

Virgil still looked unconvinced.

“Just half an hour, Virgil, please,” Logan said.

“…Fine,” Virgil relented.

“Great,” said Patton, grabbing his coat sleeve and tugging him towards the door. Logan followed behind and Princess Marisol seeing they were going somewhere, got up and padded after them.

They made it all the way to the door nearest the stable. Patton could see when he opened it that the path they were to take was well cleared. Virgil still did not appear enthused. He glared at the outside like it had a knife.

Princess Marisol, for her part, saw Patton open the door, hissed, and abandoned them to strut off towards the kitchen.

“She knows what she’s talking about,” mumbled Virgil.

Patton sighed.

“Come on Virgil, I promise it won’t be that bad.” Patton offered a gloved hand. “You can hold my hand the whole way.”

Virgil was still frowning up a storm that would rival the one that had caused the snow in the first place, but he did take Patton’s hand. Patton used his grip on his hand to pull him forward through the door. It was still very chilly, Patton thought as they walked outside. Patton had chosen a coat that was a bit lighter since they were only walking to the stable and the wind bit him through it. He really hoped Virgil’s outfit was warm enough to keep him from freaking out.

Luckily, it did seem to be keeping him warm enough because, while he was tense, he still let Patton lead him forward.

They made it to the stable quicker than usual since all three of them were quickening their pace. Patton gave a sigh of relief when he entered the stable and the warmer air inside of it. The stable wasn’t as warm as the castle, but it was warm enough that most of the stable hands only worked in light coats most of the winter. At least, they did inside the stable.

The head stable hand had already been warned about their visit beforehand and was waiting for the three of them at the door.

“Good morning,” she greeted them, and… Virgil was already hiding himself behind Patton’s back.

“Hi!” Patton said cheerfully. He stepped to the side, so Virgil was no longer hidden. Virgil glared, reaching out to grab the edge of Patton’s sleeve and tugging on it in discontent. “This is Loraine, Virgil,” Patton said, nodding at her. When he glanced her way, he became a lot more shy, looking down at her feet instead of at her face. “She takes care of the horses. Say hello.”

“…Hello,” Virgil said quietly.

“Hi,” she said. “I hear you wanted to see the horses.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, we have plenty for you to meet and they’re mostly all inside because of the cold. Usually in the summer most want to spend a lot of time in the pasture. Let me show you around.”

Loraine showed them around the stable a bit even though Patton and Logan already knew where everything was. Virgil slowly got a little bit more comfortable, even asking a couple of questions unprompted. Surprisingly these weren’t many basic questions about horses like Patton had mostly expected. On the contrary, he seemed to know a good amount of horses already.

“Have you worked with horses before?” Loraine asked a bit into the tour after Virgil expressed interest in what they were feeding some of the older horses.

“I used to help take care of horses sometimes when people came to visit the orphanage,” he said. “They’re nice.”

“Do you ride?” Loraine asked.

Virgil shook his head. “I just fed them and cleaned up after them,” he said.

“Well, maybe you can try to learn when it gets a bit warmer,” she offered. “It’s a lot of fun.”

He nodded. “That would be nice,” he said.

After that, she mostly let them wander around looking at different horses in the stalls. She them feed some of the ones who were gentler and didn’t have a specific diet.

It was about 25 minutes into their adventure and while Virgil obviously liked the horses, Patton could already tell his anxiety was rising every time he took his glove off to feed a horse and it hit the chilly air. Patton glanced at Logan.

“Right,” Logan said. “We should probably be heading back inside, but I would like to stop by and see Mr. Apples before leaving. Otherwise, he will be cross with me.”

“Mr. Apples?” Virgil asked.

“He’s one of the horses,” Logan said, moving to where the different treats were kept for the horses.

“Why do you need to see him in particular?”

Logan paused, his hand hovering briefly over the container of red apples before reaching in to grab one. “He was my Pa’s horse,” he said. “He likes when I visit him.”

“Logan’s the only one he likes visiting him,” Loraine added as she started to lead them towards where Mr. Apples’ stall was.

Patton had learned long ago that Mr. Apples could be a bit crabby. He wasn’t as mean to Patton as he was to some people, but he wasn’t exactly nice either. Patton tended to keep his distance whenever Logan went to visit.

Now, he stood on the other side of the hall from where Mr. Apples was as Logan stepped forward to greet him.

Logan spoke to him softly for a bit and he nuzzled his face against Logan’s shoulder with a huff. Eventually, he offered a piece of apple which Mr. Apple happily took.

“Can I say hello to him?” Virgil asked.

Logan glanced back at him. “Sure,” he said, “though be careful. He doesn’t like… anyone besides me.”

Virgil nodded and stepped forward cautiously. “Hello,” Virgil said. Mr. Apples tilted his head to look at Virgil. There were a couple of seconds of silence and then Mr. Apple’s snorted softly. Virgil took that as permission to stretch out a hand.

“Wait,” Logan said. “He bites actually and…”

63486

Mr. Apples pressed his nose to Virgil’s hand softly and Virgil gently stroked it a couple of times.

“Huh,” said Loraine. “You’re officially the third person he’s ever liked, and you could say Prince Logan was cheating since he met him as a baby.”

“Really?” Virgil asked. “He seems nice enough.”

Loraine rolled her eyes. Patton noticed she was standing a good distance away from the stall herself. “Oh no,” she said. “Trust me. He’s a bastard to everyone else.”

Virgil just frowned and pet the horse’s nose again. Mr. Apples leaned forward to nibble at his hair a bit.

Logan smiled at him and handed him one of the apple pieces to feed Mr. Apples which Virgil offered to the horse on a flat hand. “Red apples are his favorite,” he told Virgil. “He refuses to eat green.”

Logan and Virgil finished feeding Mr. Apples his treat and then it was time for Virgil to face the cold once again to return to the castle. Patton hoped this positive experience from going outside would make him more open to it in the future.

Chapter 43 (Logan)

Logan woke once again being strangled by an assassin. He sighed and attempted to squirm away. Virgil made an unhappy grumbling noise at the movement and squeezed him tighter. “I am just,” Logan said, shoving at the arm around him, “trying to get into a position where I can breathe.”

Unfortunately, there was no reasoning with an unconscious Virgil. Getting into an upright position was a battle and the boy was laying across his lap by the time he managed it, clutching one of Logan’s arms.

Logan huffed at his sleeping form, reaching over with his free arm to switch on his bedside lamp.

Despite how warm the room was, Logan assumed the temperature outside was extremely cold today. Virgil seemed to have some internal thermostat that seemed to know how cold it was outside even while snug in Logan’s bedroom. The tighter the boy clung in his sleep, the colder Logan knew it must be. Logan looked down at Virgil’s face. He and Patton had wanted to convince Virgil to spend a bit of time outside today, but if it was as cold as Virgil’s behavior indicated, perhaps they should wait for another day.

Logan reached over for the book on his nightstand that he’d learned to keep here for this exact reason.

His reading speed had actually increased since Virgil’s arrival at the castle which was impressive. He’d only gotten this book two days before and was worried he’d finish it before Virgil woke this morning.

Luckily, he was incorrect, and Virgil did begin to stir a bit earlier than he usually did. He glanced down from his book when he felt Virgil shift only to find his eyes were open and staring at Logan.

“Good morning,” Logan greeted. Virgil’s fingers squeezed Logan’s arms lightly much like one would expect the cat currently sleeping soundly on Virgil’s pillow to knead its chosen person.

“Hi,” he said. “Book?”

“It’s a book about various trade agreements that happened in the last 500 years,” Logan said, knowing what he was asking.

“Interesting?” Virgil asked.

Logan smiled a bit. “You would likely not be particularly interested since you do not already have knowledge of the players nor the politics of trade agreements in general.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said with a yawn.

Logan felt fondness warm his chest. “I can read you a different book if you would like,” he offered.

Virgil eyed the book in Logan’s hand. “You’re almost done with that one,” he pointed out. “You can finish it first.”

“You just want an excuse to continue to lay in bed,” Logan accused fondly.

Virgil did not even bother arguing, shifting a bit so he was laying with his head on his own pillow, but curling into Logan’s side. He was calm this morning which was honestly an odd thing. He was rarely truly calm while awake and even in sleep his face was sometimes pinched in tension. Logan and Patton’s plans for exposure therapy to cold weather seemed to help his resting anxiety level a bit, but it was still much higher than it was for normal people. Right now though, he seemed fully content.

Logan was glad he could feel that comfortable near him, perhaps even comfortable because Logan was near. It was a striking contrast to how he’d been when he’d come here or even how he’d been when he’d accidently slapped Logan. He felt a surge of… something more than the standard sympathy one might feel for someone when he thought of Virgil’s fear and what had transpired to cause it. It was a bit like anger, but not quite. He could not quite put a name to it, but he did know it made him want to make sure nothing bad ever happened to him again. He would ensure nothing bad ever happened to him again no matter what it took.

Logan read for a little while longer. Virgil was still and calm most of the time, but Logan was pretty sure he didn’t go back to sleep. He shifted to look up at Logan when he set the book on the nightstand.

“Would you like to go to the library with me this morning?” Logan asked. “I need a new book and perhaps we could get you something too for your reading lessons. I was thinking we could go to the main library.” He had never taken Virgil there yet as there did tend to be a few more people than the more secluded library Logan favored. Yet, he’d been getting marginally more comfortable in small crowds, and Logan thought he might like to see it.

“Sure,” Virgil agreed easily. “After breakfast though?”

“Of course,” Logan agreed. “We don’t want Ms. Heart to get on us about your eating schedule once more.”

Virgil nodded in agreement and climbed out of bed to get dressed. They had a short meal at the dinning hall. Virgil was still adamant that Logan did not eat any of the muffins set out on the table, and with Patton still reportedly in bed, Logan did not have nearly enough social prowess on his side to argue with him this morning. Instead, they only ate things straight from the kitchen. Virgil still got a card with his meal Logan had to fill out for him at the end. As always, he ranked everything on the plate a ‘5/5.’

The library wasn’t too far from the main dining hall. It was in the opposite direction of the way they would go if they were going back to the royal wing past the ballroom and through the entryway. In the summer, they would have gone through the courtyard. In fact, if it had been just Logan, he would have ran across the open area quickly despite not having a coat, but with Virgil in tow, he chose to walk all the way around. Though honestly, since it was Virgil’s first time entering the library, it would be more impressive entering it from its main entrance than from the side one that castle residents in a hurry would use.

He looked over at Virgil as he pushed open the library doors to see his reaction. His eyes widened a bit as he saw the huge room with the many shelves.

“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” Logan asked with a smile.

“You have two stories of books?” Virgil asked, looking at the spiral staircase that led to the second floor, awed. “I didn’t even… This is more books than I’ve ever seen in my life in one room.

“And these are just the things available to the general public. There are also record rooms only used by certain people and rooms with restricted book access based on skill, like some magic books.”

“That’s a lot…” Virgil said. What was maybe insecurity flashed through his eyes.

“It’s an overwhelming amount of knowledge, but different people can find what they need,” Logan said, pulling him out of the doorway and towards where they keep the children’s books. “Here, let’s go to books you can try to read yourself and then we’ll find some books you would be interested in that I can read to you.” They stopped at a shelf. “These would be perhaps just a bit beyond your current reading level, but they would be a good challenge, I believe. Pick whichever you like.”

Virgil took a moment to stare at the pictures on the book. He squinted at the titles for a bit longer and asked Logan what a few said before choosing a few from the shelf. Two of them were about different crops and one was about a family of foxes.

“Are those three enough?” Logan asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Virgil replied.

“Do you want to explore the library a bit or just get a book for me to read you and leave?” Logan asked, not wanting to overwhelm him.

“I’d like to look around a bit,” Virgil replied.

“Okay.”

Logan had frequented the main library when he’d been younger. Though he often spent his time now in the smaller library that had been tailored to his specific interests, he still came to the main library fairly frequently. He knew many good places to sit with a book. There were nice window seats that looked out into the courtyard and a corner near a small fireplace. Logan showed him the door that led to the courtyard and where the door to the more restricted books were, though they didn’t go into any of them right now.

Virgil seemed to like the library well enough, following Logan around willingly. Logan did have to pull him away from a few places when he looked a bit too intently at some high, but sturdy bookshelves. And the chandelier.

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starglow-xx · 4 years

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 4)

platonic! mori ougai x f!reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

previous: the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

author’s note: it’s port mafia time! ages are still one year younger than canon

also!! my 100 followers event still has 7 5 4 3 2 1 spot open for requests!! go check out this post for more info!! i’d like to get the whole prompt list done early so i have time to write them! (event is now closed as of feb. 10, 2021)

another doctor? oh wait, another doctor and his daughter

as you expected, ranpo and fukuzawa have not let you go easy after what had happened a couple days prior (3 days ago to be exact)

one of them, or more often than not, the two of them would go visit the bakery at least twice a day

once in the morning right before opening, and the second time right before closing

if they could, they would visit around lunch time, but that was usually yosano

tbh you were thankful that yosano hasn’t been as overbearing as the other two but you knew she probably wanted to give you a break because holy shit are they extremely over protective

currently, it was the fourth day of being watched by the two eldest ada members, but there were no said ada members with you at the moment

and boy were you overjoyed

turns out, the ada has an important escort job for a government official or smth, and on top of that, fukuzawa has a bunch of meetings to attend

even ranpo has his hands full with a couple of difficult murder cases across the country

you’re lowkey, no highkey, worried bc you learned literally 3 days ago that ranpo doesn’t know how to ride the train 😀😀

you were worried abt them, there’s no question, but on the inside you were a bit relieved to which ranpo called you out on it immediately

that led to the two of you going at each other’s throats for nearly half an hour

let’s just say fukuzawa scolded the two fo you for a while

going back to the present, it was around one pm and you had just finished sending a text message to both fukuzawa and ranpo (cause they insisted) when a little blonde girl with blue eyes wearing a red dress matching with a red bow in her hair and red shoes walked in

she immediately went to the glass case to look at the desserts displayed

as she looked around, you watched her at the corner of your eyes and a with a smile as you wiped down one of the tables

after wiping down the table, you quickly went to go wash your hands and you walked over and stood next to her

you bent slightly and smiled bigger as she stared at one of the treats in the glass

“is that the one you want?”

she nodded without looking away from the glass

you giggled before going to the back and placing the one she wanted on the plate and held it out to her

the blonde was honestly so confused bc one, no adult supervision, and two, there was no tell tale way to know that she had money

to you, she was an open book so when she looked at you, her face immediately read “but i have no money, or a parent...??”

you simply patted her head and pushed along to one of the nearby tables and pulled a chair for her

you did not regret anything when you saw the look on her face when you told her that it was on the house

“name’s elise!” “i’m (y/n)!”

you sat with her for a while continuing to give her sweets she reminded you of ranpo in all honestly and talking abt random things

she mostly complained abt a “rintarou” though

speaking of which, when a man in a doctor’s coat came through the door near screaming “elise-chan! elise-chan!” you figured that was probably the rintarou she was complaining abt

you smiled as you watched the two interact

“elise-chan why would just disappear like that?!”

“i wanted to see rintarou cry”

“so mean!”

...their behavior was questionable but endearing ig

“rintarou” suddenly turned to you, thanking you for “taking care of his daughter bc she’s always getting into trouble”

*cue angry noises and face from elise*

he introduced himself as a “local neighborhood doctor”

you smelled bullshit but didn’t say anything bc he has been kind to you so far

he asked you how he could repay you and you were thinking that you can actually win something bc you’re not refusing an ada member oh you poor oblivious child but you were appalled when elise answered for you

it went like this

“is there anything i can repay you with for taking care of my dear elise-chan? perhaps paying for all the sweets she has eaten?”

“oh no! don’t worry abt that, it’s nothing! it was a pleasure getting to know—”

“let’s buy out all of her food!”

h u h

you knew she enjoyed your pastries and stuff but like w h a t

you inwardly sigh in relief when the doctor agreed with you that “that’s a bit much elise-chan” and you were thanking every deity out there when suddenly

she threw a temper tantrum

you watched in confusion and slight horror at the 180 of the sweet little girl you were talking to like 10 minutes ago

her guardian panicked slightly and tried to get her to calm down but ahaha no that didn’t happen

“WAHH rintarou!! but i want it!! (y/n)’s food is the best i’ve ever had!!”

“b-but elise-chan, we can’t just buy—”

“i’ll wear all the dresses i’ve ever rejected and more if we buy it out right now and keep buying sweets here forever”

“...deal”

your eyes twitch at the “innocent” smiles the two gave you after their “talk”

fast forward literally 5 minutes and you’ve already flipped the close sign on your door with note (saying you’re sold out) and you’re all over the place running around behind the counter trying to fit everything into boxes as the two are sitting on a nearby table lightly chatting

about 20-25, nearly 30 minutes later you finishing packing everything in the glass case

it was a lot

we’re literally talking about tiered cakes and dozens of batches of cookies, cupcakes, literally everything and anything

when the two notice you’re done they get up meet you by the register

“a-ano, you really don’t have to buy all of this...the total is going to be quite large...”

“no worries!”

honestly at this point, you kind of missed the chaotic calls from ranpo that happened like every half hour

you thought you were done being surprised for the day but next thing you know men in suits come into Sakura’s and begin to load the boxes into a black car

dealing with the detectives was already starting to be a handful and now you have to deal whoever the hell these two people where

quite frankly, you were having trouble wrapping your head around all of this

like-

who buys out a whole bakery?!

and who has the money to buy out a whole bakery?!

what kind of job could you possibly have?!

was this guy really just a doctor?!

right before the two leave you call out to them

“a-ah wait! i don’t think i ever caught your name!”

the two blink at you before eyeing each other

“mori ougai” 😄😄

you started smelling bad shits again

>:/

it was a weird feeling

you felt something off but at the same time, you weren’t really afraid

and with that the two left

you were already tired from this whole thing but you now get the rest of the day off

so i guess something worked out in your favor

until the next fricking day

again, ranpo and fukuzawa canceled out on you

you weren’t sure if you were relieved or not

and as soon as you thought you were going to have a normal business day, guess who walked through the doors

yeah that’s right

“the local neighborhood doctor” and his daughter

you froze before eyeing them with suspicion

if mori was amused, he didn’t show it, only giving you a smile

elise immediately left his side and practically leaped onto you making you cut yourself with the knife you were holding

well shit now you’re bleeding

it was only 7:15 in the morning; you had literally just opened

you were cursing every deity out there

you quickly grab a nearby and press it against your wound and scrambled around looking for the first aid kit you had nearby

“oh? (y/n)-kun are you bleeding?”

“(y/n) i’m sorry!”

“a-ah, no worries elise-chan”

you really need to stop spacing out bc next thing you know, the sign on your door is flipped to close again (along with the same note from yesterday explaining you’re sold out taped on the door) and you’re sitting at a table with elise in your lap and mori wrapping your hand in a bandage

“tsk tsk (y/n)-kun you need to be more careful...but it is elise-chan’s fault”

“die rintarou!”

“but no worries! it’s not that deep so you don’t need stitches”

“thank you, mori-san, but can i ask why you and elise-chan are here again? not that i mind...”

whether or not you were lying is up to you

“oh we’re here to buy out your stock again!”

“wait what-”

the fuck???

did they not just buy everything yesterday???

frozen, you stare at the man in front if you with said man giving you another “innocent” smile

this little shit

wait till you meet dazai

but i guess that’s why the sign on the door is flipped to close bc you don’t even remember flipping it yourself or taping the note from yesterday to the door

you spent the next half hour trying to convince the two over some tea (your signature one of course) that “no you don’t need to or should buy everything i have, you’re going to deprive the rest of my customers”

cough cough ranpo

like the day before, you were losing this argument

can you just never win?

as you were losing the argument (obviously) you realized that you don’t even know why they want to buy everything again

“mori-san, why do the two of you even want to buy everything in the first place?”

“ah it was elise-chan’s request of course! but i do admit, after trying some of your sweets myself, i grew quite attached! so did the rest of my subordinates after my precious elise-chan made them try it, not like they could refuse her or me; i am their boss after all (y/n)-kun.”

*cue confusion*

“subordinates? wait are those the guys from yesterday?? aren’t you a doctor...?”

“ah ex-doctor actually, i’m the leader of the port mafia”

...

“ah (y/n)-kun that’s quite the coughing fit you have going on, do you need water?”

if it wasn’t obvious, you choked on your tea and had quite the coughing fit; you were wheezing and everything making elise leave you lap and settling for dangling over mori’s shoulders

“...you’re kidding”

“im afraid im not”

this man confuses the hell out of you??

like-

w h y would he just say that, to you of all people

but it explains the bad shits you were smelling/feeling yesterday

“are you afraid?”

“being completely honest with you, mori-san, not really”

“and why is that?”

you simply shrug not really knowing the answer

you aren’t lying, you just aren’t

maybe bc yesterday, he seemed more like a doting parent than the boss of the most criminal organization of yokohama

yes, you’ve heard the rumors, obviously, but just saying, if the port mafia wanted to hurt you, you’d probably be dead in a ditch by now

and they haven’t really been a bother to you, they were more like background characters in your life

well

until yesterday of course

mori simply raises an eyebrow and a smile seemingly okay with your very vague answer

“why did you tell me that mori-san?”

the man only smiles a bit wider at you and this time, you’re the one raising an eyebrow

“just a feeling”

yeah you were starting to smell bad shits again

“and besides! elise-chan seems quite fond of you (y/n)-kun! i wasn’t planning on doing anything to you in the first place, but even if i wanted to, i don’t think i could! i wouldn’t want to upset my dearest cute elise-chan”

“die rintarou!”

“that’s mean elise-chan!”

your eyes began to twitch in slight annoyance

cause istg the duality of this man—

this strange strange man

oh dearest you haven’t even met dazai yet

after that has been said and done, somehow you found yourself in front of stores being dragged by elise

how did you end up there you ask? i don’t know either so there’s nothing we can do abt that

eventually, you found yourself holding a bunch of shopping bags full of dresses and clothes of the sort

some of it your size and the others elise’s

...

“mori-san?”

“yes (y/n)-kun?”

“why do i have bags of clothing that are fit for me rather than elise?”

“oh that’s because elise refused to go without you and if you didn’t get anything!”

yeah

that makes perfect sense, of course

you could see why elise kept on complaining abt this guy

the two of you actually bonded over making fun of him

you have n o fear

actually, maybe just a little

the three of you were out for basically the entire day and you were exhausted

cause holy shit there was a lot of money wasted, shopping bags obtained, and walking involved

it was around 5 pm when the three of you were making it back to Sakura’s

along the way you found yourself having a pleasant conversation with mori

even if he was a questionable person to be having a pleasant conversation with, you enjoyed it nonetheless

you hoped that it makes it harder to get rid of you if he ever changed his mind but we don’t talk abt that

anywho

when the three of you arrived, you immediately dumped all the bags you were holding and went straight to work packaging everything for “the local neighborhood doctor”

before they left, mori agreed to not buy out all of your stock except for some occasions but instead settled ordering massive batches of a little bit of everything every few days

how that’s not the same as buying everything you won’t ever know

you were standing outside Sakura’s watching the two get into the car that had arrived when suddenly, mori turned to you

“ah (y/n)-kun, i know that you wouldn’t tell anyone about this, it wouldn’t be like you to, but just a reminder, it would probably be in your best interest not to let anything slip to anyone okay? we wouldn’t want any enemies using you against the port mafia. so take care of yourself hm? see you next time”

and bippity boppity boo just like that, they were gone

how that man managed to get your personality down in just like 10 hours you don’t want to know

and that’s basically the story of how you started making more food/bake goods to sell

true to his word, every few days, or sometimes consecutive days, mori called you and made a large order

and i mean large

on those days, someone from the port mafia would pick it up and then you get paid

thankfully, by increasing the amount of food you made, you always had enough to put out on display and to sell even after the large order

before doing that, on those days you didn’t have a large stock, someone by the name of edogawa ranpo would weep at your feet

he will deny this; after all, great detectives don’t do weeping

or so he says

and speaking of the detective, you never did tell him what had transpired the two days he and fukuzawa were absent on checking on you

but tbh, i even think ranpo could’ve deduct this one

you didn’t tell him bc you were afraid, no of course not that’s ridiculous mori, in elise’s words, was a loser

you didn’t tell him bc you knew he and fukuzawa would flip the fuck out

and that would be a major inconvenience to you

you didn’t see the point in telling them anyway

so whatever, it’s like it’ll be important

and if ranpo and fukuzawa noticed the abundant of bags near the door leading up to the staircase when they visited you at the end of the day they didn’t say anything

of course one of them said smth

“ne (n/n)-chan since when did you like to buy a bunch of things; waste of money if you could just be using that money to make more food so you wouldn’t sell out right away and have food to feed me”

your eyes twitched

he could’ve worded that a little better but whatever

it is ranpo-san after all

“i just got carried away since i closed up early; you know it isn’t often i get to go shopping”

and if he smelled your bullshit he didn’t say anything

for real this time

that slightly concerns you ngl

anyways

let’s just say quite a few heads were turned when they saw their boss leading a bunch of lower level subordinates carrying many light pink boxes of different sizes to his office for the second time

oh and just another thing

*whispers* he was lying when elise made his other subordinates eat your food; they kept it all to themselves”

was that a ruse to help lead the revelation of his real occupation who knows

“(y/n)-kun is a very interesting person don’t you think so elise-chan?”

“quiet. i’m eating cake.”

“that’s so mean elise-chan!”

<<previous // next >>

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fonulyn · 3 years

Note

So I'm reading this sad Chreon story - as one does (it's me, I'm one) - and I just had the weirdest epiphany? Like, I dunno, it's probably dumb and far from a hot take or some eye opening character analysis no one has done before but I noticed that people (including myself, so like not saying this in any kind of bad way) tend to write Leon as stand offish, apathetic, and cold. Like this story stated it specifically, said something along the lines of "this is what Leon gets for cultivating a reputation for being unapproachable, apathetic, and indifferent" and the insinuation there is that he's done this on purpose, put on this front to seem unaffected by things when in the presence of others, and I think it's pretty true for his character. Like anything post RE2, Leon is kind of. I dunno, I wanna say deadpan? He seems to express v little emotion, and when he does it's usually in the form of a quip, one-liner, or snarky come back. Sometimes awkward small talk lol. But it feels like he's built this wall, this persona around himself, not just to protect himself from losing more people (bc he probably sees it as some kind of inevitability, and with his track record I certainly wouldn't blame him), but to protect people from him. This poor man has spent so long fighting, trying to save people, and even tho he saves the day in the end, so many people get lost in the process, and Leon feels every single loss personally. Right off the bat we see it every time someone dies in RE2, then again in RE4 with Luis, who he knew for a short period of time and yet mourned so heavily for, and even Krauser to an extent. Leon is someone who is quick to trust, even as he gets older, and we see that in RE Vendetta, too. Like that's probably one of the big reasons he's so devastated after losing his team. Not only was he entrusted with a group (which doesn't happen often, as far as we have seen), but he probably put his trust in them as well, including Petrucio, the man who betrayed them. I just think Leon is such a complex character who hides so much of himself (which is convenient for bad writers at Capcom who can't write good dialogue to save their lives lmao, but I also think it's a decent part of his character now), probably so what happened in RE2 doesn't happen again. Bc that shit was probably so traumatizing, and Leon was still a baby! I'm only a year older then he was at the time of RE2 but like, as humans our brains don't finish growing until age 25, so that kind of trauma at that age is for sure gonna stick with you, and it seems he picked up some unhealthy coping mechanisms from it that's more than just his drinking problem. Anyways I guess I just wanted to rant about how Leon is the most "emotionless" character in RE but in reality he feels and cares so much, so much so that if he doesn't put up that mask of indifference then he'll destroy himself. This man would die so that others could live, he's saved the world multiple times without a care for himself past the need to finish his mission and keep as many people as possible safe. He's such a tragic character and I love him so goddamn much, like he's one of those characters who you aspire to be like, in a way. Selfless, capable, dependable, reliable, smart, passionate, caring. And some of this might be my own character building I've done based off of other headcanons and character analysis posts and stories I've seen, but I do think we see a lot of this in the canon content, too. I just really love Leon S Kennedy, okay? He makes me sad but also so so happy and I love him v much, he is a big time comfort character for me. Sorry for the rant, just needed to scream about this with someone who would understand lol 😅

oh anon, I get you, I dooo. I think that you're right in that Leon has kind of this shell around himself because it's the only way he can cope. but there are so many cracks in his shell, and he lets people in so readily even when it would stand to reason that he shouldn't trust anyone anymore. he gets attached to people lightning fast, and he'd die for them even when he's barely met them.

this borders on headcanon territory, definitely, but I tend to often write him as someone who gets attached easily and falls for people easily (be it friendship or romantic or anything), but then he doesn't know how to properly let people in because he's got his defense mechanisms, he's trying to keep himself from breaking, and what if he truly lets someone past those walls and then another disaster strikes and he never recovers from it?

and I think it shows a lot in how he's so awkward with small talk, he can throw in one-liners and dad jokes and try to keep his own (and anyone else's) spirits up with that. but oh man. beyond that? the boy doesn't know how to naturally talk to people. (even like in Infinite Darkness, with Claire, I think his "don't do anything stupid" was 100% meant to be a joke, both times, but it just didn't exactly land perfectly. poor awkward bby)

but like even though he might put up this unaffected front, he's still so very expressive? like... if you really pay attention to him? he's far from actually an expressionless and cold person. he just isn't very loud about it. (i was just going through ID screencaps yesterday and while Shen May is talking and Leon is on the background, he goes through such a journey in expressions alone :'D)

AND HE CARES. like, for example in Infinite Darkness, he sees Patrick is shaken and the first possible moment he has, he immediately asks him if he's okay and takes a moment to reassure him. they're in a hurry, he's supposed to get going and not check up on a guy he's never even met before, but he does it anyway. and I think it speaks a lot of his character. he's quick to offer support and comfort, and he genuinely tries to be there for others the best he can. he desperately needs someone to listen to him in turn, seriously. give him emotional support, damnit.

and I wanna highlight what you said:

in reality he feels and cares so much, so much so that if he doesn't put up that mask of indifference then he'll destroy himself. This man would die so that others could live, he's saved the world multiple times without a care for himself past the need to finish his mission and keep as many people as possible safe.

because yes. 100%. also this:

he's one of those characters who you aspire to be like, in a way.

like. yes. there was this one meme thing going around which was basically like asking if you feel like you're like your favorite character and I'm just. I fucking wish I was one tenth of what he is :'D

I know not even he is perfect, c'mon, no such thing as perfect people exist (not even in fiction, or if they do then they'd be really damn boring :'D). i'm not trying to claim he has no flaws, or that he never does anything wrong. he has and he does. but the amount of genuine caring he shows and how hard he tries to do the right thing? truly awe inspiring.

i just. I'm right there with you. I love him so damn much. and that's why I spend most of my time writing fic where he gets at least some of that happiness he deserves :'D i need him taken care of, damnit, and if canon doesn't give him good things then i damn sure will.

#whenever you want to talk about him anon #i'm right here for you :D #i love him so much #so muchhhh #anonymous #ask and i shall answer #re answers #leon s kennedy #long post

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sidespart · 4 years

Note

For the fic title thing: Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I’m Falling

Make Up Your Mind (this seriously got away from me and became basically a whole string of conscious fic whoops)

Logince, Bakery/coffeeshop AU Mutual Pining/ Not-Actually-Unrequited love, + loceit friendship

So Janus owns a Bakery (struggling to think of a snake/lie based bread pun for the name but ehh). He is the head only baker and sends most of his time in the basement kitchen blasting the phantom of the opera soundtrack and kneading dough.

Logan is his childhood friend. Janus hired him as cashier after Logan dropped out of collage but then he never left and is now basically manager/ accountant/ hbic of this whole operation.

So one night as Janus is leaving he’s casually like: ‘oh by the way, a couple are coming by tomorrow for a wedding cake consultation’

And Logan blocks the door and is like: ‘Janus. We don’t do wedding cakes. We don’t even do cake. You only make weird artisanal bread. it took me 6 months and 8 powerpoint presentations to convince you to sell banana loaf’

Jan, his eye enormous: ‘but Logan, you should have heard this guy on the phone. They only want to use LGBTQ businesses for their wedding, they want to support the community that’s supported them for so long. He spoke so passionately and eloquently about why it just had to be us I couldn't say no’

Logan, his eyes not enormous: did you tell this man we make wedding cakes just to make the phone conversation end?

Janus: I was going to miss the murder, she wrote marathon, Logan

So Jan manages to escape, and Logan rolls his eyes but like. This is nowhere near the worst ‘cleaning up after Janus lied to get out of a situation and made everything more complicated for no goddamm reason’ incident that he has had to deal with during the course of their friendship so, whatever: he can tell the couple there was a miscommunication when they show up in the morning.

Next day, the guys arrive. Virgil, who barley introduces himself and then stays hunched in his hoodie not speaking for the whole meeting, and Roman.

Roman does not have a problem speaking. Roman has lots of ideas.

Roman has a binder.

Somehow in the course of this conversation Logan goes from ‘we don’t make wedding cakes’ to ‘I’LL SHOW YOU, WE’LL MAKE THE BEST GODDAMM WEDDING CAKE THIS TOWN HAS EVER SEEN’

Maybe it was the passion of Romans argument. Maybe it was the slightly disdainful look on his face when he looked round the shop. Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of money he was prepared to pay (see: Janus insists on only making specific, weird bread as to why the shop’s always on the brink of collapse). Maybe it was the power of the binder (Logan is like 80% sure Roman hit him with the binder at one point). Maybe its just Logan hasn't had a full blown passionate argument like that since high school debate club and the rush of adrenaline made him dumb.

Whatever the reason - they’re now fully committed to making this 6 tier, purple and blue, Disney inspired, multiflavoured wedding cake

(Janus, who skipped out on the meeting because he is Like That: But Logan....we don’t make wedding cakes...this was really irresponsible of you...

Logan: I know where you sleep. I could kill you at any time)

Which would be doable (the weddings a while off, and Logan is ready to RESEARCH) except Roman keeps. Coming. Back.

With new ideas. And tweaks. And suggestions. All of them seemingly designed to make the cake less structurally sound.

Basically every time he comes in they end up having a blazing row, first about Romans inability to make up his mind about the cake and then about...literally everything. One time they spent 25 minuets arguing about whether or not Shakespeare wrote all of his plays, which somehow turns into ‘who was the best host of blues clues?’ which then turned into ‘how would nationalised healthcare best be implemented?’ (the loudest arguments were during the blues clues section).Logan had even fewer customers then normal that day.

(Logan: I hate that guy so much! He shows up at 2pm every day and now my blood pressure has started going up at 1.55pm in anticipation of the fight! He’s causing me actual medical distress because he’s so stupid!

Janus:...you’ve memorised some guys schedule and your heart starts racing whenever you see him?

Logan: yes! because he is my enemy!

Janus:...

Janus: mmKay.)

ANYway, one day Roman turns up and is like: Can’t fight today. Need caffeine. Must Study. and sequesters himself on one of their two rinky dink tables and starts pulling enormous textbooks out of his bag. Turns out Roman is in law school, he’s back home for the whole summer to help with wedding prep and has been neglecting his summer reading. He wants to be an environmental lawyer and, ideally, singly handily prosecute every oil company and give a speech at the UN whilst wearing an immaculately fitted Italian suit.

Logan has a panicked moment of OH NO HE’S SMART (he doesn't need an oh no he’s hot moment because Roman’s been hot the whole time). Very carefully he does not think about how upset hearing Roman mention the wedding again made him feel, and then shares a bit about his own anxiety during college which led to him dropping out.

Roman says degree or no degree its obvious Logan is one of the smartest, most capable people Romans ever met.

Cue: blushing, stammering, Logan standing up to quickly and knocking half a pot of coffee over etc etc all that good fluff.

And after that their conversations are less confrontational (although they still debate like. everything.) and more friendly.

They have one (1) more conversation about the wedding wherein Roman apologises for being so stressed and snappy over all the preparation stuff but he just wants everything to be perfect for Virgil. (Logan, awkwardly: you must love him a lot. Roman, himbo-ly: Yeah!) aaand then Logan changes the subject to the best rhyming structure because Romans big sappy grin is making his heart do awful twisty things-

And eventually, Roman asks Logan to go out with him outside the bakery.

Logan: hahaha this is friendship, we are great friends, we are going out as friends. I am not going on a date with a man with a fiancé because that would be the actions of a crazy person.

So they go on their date. It’s amazing. Roman leans in for a kiss at the end and Logan is delighted!

And then devastated.

He pushes Roman away, yells some creative insult (malodorous centurion?) and flees. Spends the next week basically hiding in the kitchen area, refusing to see any customers and working on the wedding cake.

(which is looking perfect by the way)

So after a week of Logan moping round the kitchen Janus finally blocks the door to stop him leaving and demand he tells him what the hell is wrong. And after a few minuets of filibustering Logan ends up telling him everything.

“In any case, the very fact that he is the kind of man who would cheat on his fiancé means he’s not the kind of man I thought he was. Therefore any alleged feelings I may have developed towards him would now be null and void” says Logan, looking like the worlds sadist accountant

Janus: So...wait. You’re saying wedding cake guy and hot lawyer guy are the same person?

(Logan: you need to come out of the basement more often Janus: YOU need to tell me what’s going on in your life more often. (they have had this conversation many times in the past))

So Janus sincerely tells Logan he’s sorry...and that he’s even more sorry that he needs him to help him deliver the cake to the venue tomorrow.

(this thing is way to big for one person to carry and there’s no way Jan would trust any of their occasional teenage cover staff to do this and ‘we’ll go round the back and you wont have to see anyone anyway comon Lo’ you basically built this monstrosity you should see it home)

So, reluctantly, Logan goes. And they go round the back as promised, and get this enormous cake settled, and then get told to wait there one sec cus one of the grooms is going to come sign for it and before Logan can throw himself out of the widow (get OFF me Janus we’re on the ground floor it’s FINE) from behind them they hear squeeing.

There’s a curly haired dude in a pastel blue linen suit who Logan has never seen before in his life looking at the cake and cooing over ‘all the little details! its perfect! oh Virgil is going to love this! You know he was so embarrassed about asking for a Disney themed cake he had to ask Roman to go with him to -”

“Who ARE you?”

The man blinked at Logan, who realised dimly that he still had one foot up on the windowsill and slowly returned it to the floor.

“I’m Patton” said Patton.

“And I’m Janus” said Janus, removing his arms from where they’d still been clamped around Logan’s waist and stepping smoothly towards Patton, clipboard held aloft “A pleasure to meet you, if you could just sign here...”

“BUT-” Patton paused, hand still raised to accept the clipboard, and looked over again at Logan who found himself mumbling: “but - but the groom is supposed to sign for it?”

And Patton just smiled at him looking a bit bemused and goes ‘I am the groom? And who are you kiddo?”

Logan says he’s Logan. Patton suddenly looks a whole lot less friendly.

“Oh.” says Patton. “You.”

And since Logan’s mind is currently refusing to take in the information in front of him Janus is the one who ends up stepping in between them and going “so just for 100% transparency - you are Patton.

“yes?”

“and today you are marrying the love of your life: Virgil?”

“Yes!”

“And are either of you, at any point today, also planning on marrying one Roman Sanders, caffeine addict and terrible communicator?”

And Paton burst out laughing and says “ROMAN? Virgil’s big brother Roman? He’s my best man but I don’t think we’re planning to take it any further...”. And because Patton is apparently much quicker on the emotional uptake than Logan he gives him a vey soft, if slightly exasperated, look and says:

“Roman - who again, is my future brother-in-law- is helping set up in the main hall.”

And Logan likes to think he said thank you before he took off fucking RUNNING through the building but he can’t be sure.

So he gets to the hall, where a load of people are setting out chairs, putting up flowers etc, and skids to a stop at one end of the aisle. Shouts: “ROMAN.” (Roman and Virgil, who were standing at the other end arguing over a flower arrangements, both look up) “YOU’RE NOT MARRYING YOUR BROTHER.”

“um.” Says Roman “No?”

Explanations are given. Virgil, who is a lot more talkative now that he’s not on 7th wedding appointment of the day burn out, is ready to physically fight Logan for breaking his brothers heart. And then once he understands the full story is ready to kill both of them for being such dumbasses.

Roman: But I s2g I told the guy on the phone that it was the groom and best man coming??? Logan: Yeah he might have lied and said you were a couple for a joke, or he may have just straight up not listened to you. Either way, he is just Like That.

Logan: WHY DID YOU NEVER MENTION VIRGIL WAS YOUR BORTHER?? Roman: I WAS TRYING TO GET TO KNOW YOU AND ALSO SEDUCE YOU WHY WOULD I WASTE TIME TALKING ABOUT MY LITTLE BROTHER??? Virgil: Yeah...he does like talking about himself, sorry he’s just Like That.

Anyway it all ends fluffily, Patton and Virgil get married. Roman cries. Logan and Jan hang around for the wedding. Roman and Logan hold hands throughout the speeches and dance during the reception. Roman has to go back to law school soon but they agree to call each other every day at 2pm to catch up and argue.

Janus gets off with the moustachioed DJ.

And Roman and Logan get another chance at their first kiss.

#sanders sides fic #logince #roman sanders #logan sanders #Loceit #Platonic Loceit #janus sanders #SANDERs sides #YEAH THIS ONE ALSO GO AWAY FROM ME #i might write some of these scenes up properly or draw them out #this was fun #fake fic meme #sidespart writes #Anonymous

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years

Text

The Boy Next Door

Eddie Diaz x Reader

Warnings: mentions of divorce, step-parents, a little bit of arguing, alcohol and consumption of, like one swear word, mentions of sickness

Category: fluff

Word Count: 2.3K

Author’s Note: ahhh okay hi! this is my first 911 fic, idk it’s mostly self indulgent because I can’t get this idea out of my head, so here we are :) also for the purpose of this, Eddie never got married nor did he have Christopher

Italics are flashbacks

----

To say you were average was the understatement of your life, you weren't special nor were you awkward or shy, you were just average. You had always been the average person, in an average neighbourhood with an average life.

But the boy next door, there was nothing average about him.

The first time you met the boy next door was when you were 14, you had just moved into the neighbourhood with your father and his new wife. There was still lots to be done, the air conditioning was broken and your father seemed to misplace his toolkit during the move. He left you in the smouldering heat and ventured off to find a toolkit. Not only did he return with a toolkit but visitors as well.

“y/n!” your father shouted from the bottom on the staircase, “what?!” you shouted back. “Come down here!” you groaned as he called for you again, what could he possibly want now?

Your father stood there with a man and a boy who you could only assume was his son. “Y/n, this is Ramon and his son, Eddie. They live next door and Ramon was kind enough to loan his tools and help me out.” you smiled at them from the top of the stairs.

“Come down and get Eddie something to drink” your father said, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes and made your way down the stairs.

“Would you like some lemonade ?” you asked, walking past him to the kitchen, he followed you. “Please” he leaned against the wall watching you move around the kitchen.

“So, I hear you have a step mom?” he asks, you could feel his eyes burning into your back as you got the lemonade from the fridge. “Unfortunately” you mumble and pour some of the liquid into a glass, Eddie made his way over to the counter, he leaned up against it.

“Do you know how to stand straight ?” you glance at him up and down, he laughs and shakes his head.

“Why is it unfortunate that you have a stepmother ?” taking a sip of the lemonade, his eyes fixed on you. “Have you ever seen Cinderella ?” you asked, hopping up on the counter and picking up the other glass, Eddie nods.

“Imagine living with Cinderella’s stepmother but times 100″ you groan, Eddie had a smile on his face.

“You’re joking”

“Wish I was”

“Well that sucks” he gave you an apologetic look

“Big time” your eyes are on your legs which were swinging back and forth. Eddie grabs your leg suddenly, “what the hell!” you jump, he laughs again.

God he has such a cute laugh, wait what ? Stop he’s your neighbour, you barely know him.

“How’d you get that?” his thumb rubs over a scar on your leg by your ankle. “Bike accident when I was younger. It just didn’t heal right and left a scar, also because there was a giant gash there for a few weeks” you shrug. The two of you were in the kitchen for a few minutes, Eddie’s hand was still wrapped around your leg, neither of you saying a word to each other.

“Eddie! Time to go!” Ramon shouted for Eddie, he let go of your leg. “See you around ?” he asked, you nodded, “yeah, see ya” Eddie smiled at you and you smiled back.

You rarely saw Eddie after that day, he had been helping his father at his shop all summer so you never got a chance to hang out. When school started, you had a few classes with him, he occasionally asked for the answers to the homework after his practices ran long, which you gave to him.

Somewhere deep down, you had a soft spot for the boy next door.

Your friendship, if you could even call it that, was built solely on the fact that he lives next door and went to the same classes, if it weren't for that, you’d never speak to him. He wasn't a popular kid per se but he had a solid friend group and played sports, so in his own way, he was a popular kid. You were the kid that had your head down, did what you were told to do and left.

High school flew by and you were glad. The whole “your high school years are the best years of your life” was bullshit, if anything, you ended up coming out more confused than you went in.

The second time you spent time with Eddie was at your graduation party. The graduating class had arranged a grad party for yourselves in the neighbourhood. It consisted of loud drunk teenagers and their tipsy parents. By midnight, the street began clearing out, you hung back simply because you didn’t want to go home and deal with your stepmother and your father.

Sitting on the curb at the end of the street, you could see the entire street. There were still a few kids, a group of boys playing football terribly, a couple making out in the corner and some girls posing for pictures by some car.

Eddie’s shouting broke your thoughts, “Papi I'm going!” It sounded like something had shattered, perhaps a bottle. You got up and slowly made your way over. “You want to throw away your life? Stay here, get a job Eddie, I won’t allow you to do this!” his father shouted back at him. Eddie began walking away from his father, Ramon grabbed his hand. “Do not walk away from me!” he shouted again.

“You made up your mind and so did I. I'm going.” Eddie said sternly and walked away. He walked past you on his way to wherever he was going. He didn’t stop, he didn't talk, he just pushed past you and left.

Eddie left home a few weeks later. You kept up with his parents, stopping by for dinner every once in a while. His father didn’t talk much about him, just that he was good and that’s all. Once his father left, his mother told you about what actually was going on, how Eddie felt as if he had found a purpose there. She shows you letters that he had sent and a picture he had sent her in his uniform.

“Doesn't he look handsome ?” she smiled, showing you the picture of Eddie. “Yeah, very handsome, Mrs. Diaz” you smiled back.

“Do you know when he’s coming back?”

The smile dropped from her face. “He- uh, reenlisted” she mumbled. “Ramon doesn't know”

You nodded, “I won’t tell”

“Who’s not telling what?” his father came back in for a moment, you smiled at him while Mrs. Diaz turned her attention to the sink. “Oh just that Mrs. Diaz is helping me with dinner for my grandparents tomorrow” you pick up the bowls on the counter, “Thank you for dinner, I'll see you guys around ?”

“of course, thank you for coming over. it’s nice to have you around” his mother gave you a hug.

You spent a lot of afternoons with his mom, just helping her out around the house. It wasn't until 4 years after that night that you saw him again. A few bruises and bumps, a couple scars and broken bones you were sure of, but he was back in one piece. In true Diaz fashion, his parents insisted on throwing a party for him. It was supposed to be a small party, just a few neighbours and family. By the time Mrs. Diaz was done inviting people, there was triple the amount of people coming.

You headed over with your father, he had gotten sick recently and required a bit more help now. Truthfully by 25, you had planned to be living on your own but with your father getting sick and your step mother bailing, you stuck around. Once you got him situated, you found Mrs. Diaz in the kitchen.

“Hey” you smiled at her, taking the bowl from her hands. “Hi mi amor, how are you ?” She smiled at you, you rested the bowl on the table across from the two of you, “I’m okay for now.”

Eddie’s laughter filled your ears, that was a sound you didn't hear often but one you loved nonetheless “It’s good to have him home” his mother smiled, watching her son from the window. Mrs. Diaz gets pulled off by someone leaving you alone in the kitchen, turning to the fridge, you look through for a beer. “hey, pass me one too” his voice called as he watched through the backdoor. You pulled two out and handed on to him.

“Thanks” Eddie leaned against the counter, you couldn't help but chuckle. “What?” taking a sip of the beer, his eyes meet yours. “Nothing, just noticing your habit of leaning on things” you stood across from him.

“Sorry, but do I know you from somewhere ? You seem so familiar” his brows furrowed, tongue running across his lip. “I’m y/n, we’re neighbours” you told him, his eyes flickered up and down you, your name leaving his lips.

God, your name never sounded so good.

“Y/n...” his eyes ran over your body once more, his eyes locking on your foot. “Ankle Scar” he smiled, you nodded as your lips curled into a smile. “God, I'm so sorry I didn’t rememb-” “don’t worry ‘bout it, I'm not really anyone worth remembering”

Eddie’s smile dropped, a pout visibly on his face. “Don’t say that, I'm sure you are.”

“Is that why you didn't remember me ?” you teased

“We went to high school together” he took another sip, you nodded in agreement. “We’ve also lived next door to each other since we were 14” you smiled at him. Again, the smile vanished from his face, “okay, now I really feel like shit. God, I'm sorry” “It’s cool really” you gave a smile once more.

“Don’t you have a party to get back too ?”

“Eh, not to fussy about parties to tell you the truth. I might take a walk around the block, care to join me ?”

“Actually, yeah, I’d like that”

Eddie opened the front door for you, letting you step out first. The two of you headed through the front to avoid everyone in the back, you walked down the street together, the dull streetlights lit the sidewalks, beer in your hand.

“What have you been up to?” Eddie asked you, “Well, I'm a nurse but only part time. My dad needs me around.. now that he’s sick”

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, your dad’s a cool guy”

Scoffing, you take a sip of your beer, “yeah, you’re the only one that’s ever thought that” your statement making Eddie chuckled. “If you don't mind me asking, what happened to the wicked step mother of the west?” he looked over at you as he walked along the curb of the sidewalk, his arms out to balance himself.

“She bailed when he found out he was sick.”

Eddie stopped walking, “seriously ? that’s a bitch move” “yeah, tell me about it”

Taking a seat on the curb, Eddie sat down too. The street was quiet for the most part, the only noise coming from down the street at Diaz’s place. Your fingers tapped against the beer bottle in your hand, aimlessly trying to keep up with the beat of the music. Eddie’s hand on your ankle startled you, causing you to drop the bottle. “Seriously ?! Again?” you shout, Eddie put his finger over your lips. “Shh! you’ll wake up the neighbours” he muttered, you rolled your eyes at his statement. “Tell me nurse y/n, how does one not ‘heal right’” he laughed, his thumb rubbing against the scar and causing you to roll your eyes again. “surely you can tell me that, Sergeant Diaz”

Eddie looked shocked, “how did-” “your mom, she never stopped talking about her son, the army sergeant medic” you teased, he shook his head, laughing. “I know you’ve only been back for a few weeks, but what’s next ? Are you going to stay ?”

“If I have a reason too, I will but I- I don't know what’s next” Eddie sighed.

“Perhaps a change in scenery ?” you asked, he looked over at you with a questionable expression on his face. “I'm moving, to California in a few months” you told him.

“Oh? What for?”

“A change in scenery” you laughed and he smiled at you.

“I haven't thought about moving, maybe it would be nice. A break away from here, not that I don't love it here, I love my parents too but-” he stopped talking, he realized the more he went on, the deeper a hole he dug.

“You know, I hear the LAFD is always looking for recruits. I’m sure they wouldn't mind having an army medic on the team” you glance over at him, there’s a pause in the conversation.

Eddie looks over at you, “that’s not a bad idea” his arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you into his side, your arm his rested on top of his knee,

“What do you say to a road trip and a roommate ?” he looks down at you.

You look up at him, “I think I'd like that”

---

tagging: @ssa-volturi @geeky-son-dr-reid

#eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz oneshot #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz fan fic #eddie diaz fic #eddie diaz fanfiction #911onfox #9-1-1 oneshot #9-1-1 fanfiction #9-1-1 reader insert #9-1-1 imagine #9-1-1 fic #9-1-1 fanfic #911 #911 fic #911 fanfic

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

Leave before you love me--sebastian stan oneshot

a/n: This scenario has been in my head since I heard this song. Might be a little on the rusty side as I haven’t written in a while and I’m trying to find the groove for writing for Sebastian!

Warnings: drinking mentions, party atmosphere, slight banter, a very lightly mentioned age gap (reader is 25) and he is his true age, heavy 80s inspired theme, angst, unprotected sex

Word count: 2.9k

Feedback is always welcomed and I’m trying to get in the groove still of writing him

Enjoy! 🙂

***

The highway lights flash across his windshield as he zooms by on the road, they’re the last remaining stars in the sky. The bright yellow-orange sun is just about peeking above the horizon and he pushes on the gas, the small orange needle ticking closer to ninety.

His favorite 80’s playlist blares through his speakers and out of his windows, the techno beat of Sunglasses At Night reverberates through his sound system. The wild wind tousled his hair but it cools his body down and slowly takes away your warmth. He taps his thumb on the wheel as he curves with the bend, the lights up above flicker out one by one as he passes by.

Sebastian’s trying not to think about the red marks from your nails that still have a slight burn as he rubs against his driver’s seat. He tries to breathe in and out through the thin of his lips because he can still smell your perfume on his shirt.

He glances at the clock above his screen and he’s right on time which means you will be awakening soon. Sebastian is always consistent.

He rubs at the back of his neck trying not to think of your bare legs peeking out from your sheets, the only thing that covers your skin.

One more twist and the lights have all timed out and your name flashes across his screen, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He always sees you calling and it’s always at 5 a.m when he’s more than halfway away from you.

He’s consistent with his poor timing just as he is consistent with crawling back to you. He accelerates to 100 mph. The revving of the engine mimics his lasting hunger and desire for you but he swallows it down and ignores your call.

It’s not that he wants to leave you. No, it’s just that he can’t stay. There’s a difference. Right?

He pulls into a parking spot at a twenty-four hour diner, the open sign flickers intermittently. He doesn’t get out of the car until your name disappears and the bell jingles as he pulls on the door. There’s a small group of people in the corner huddled together that are still in their club outfits, make-up smeared under their tired eyes.

It reminds him of his own party days, he knows they haven’t slept. Sebastian nods to the woman at the u-shaped counter before he slides into a booth. The waitress approaches with a cup and a full pot of coffee.

“Sugar or creamer?” She asks popping her gum as she pours the steaming liquid in the bronze mug. She’s chewing strawberry gum.

“Neither, thanks,” he huffs.

“Breakfast?”

“Just the coffee,” he shakes his head and looks up at her. “Thanks.”

“Holler if you change your mind,” she nods then traipses her way towards the young group to refill their coffees.

Sebastian lifts the mug and blows carefully over the top of it, the steam rolls over the opposite lip before he takes a drink. The bitter taste feels good on his tongue and wakes him up slightly. He’s not far off from the party group across the way, he hasn’t slept since taking you to bed last night.

He knew beforehand that you’d be there and he kept promising himself that he wouldn’t take you home. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t be hooked by your eyes or your charm. He vowed to himself that he wouldn’t repeat this thing you two have.

It was a mutual friend of a friend that you both know hosting a party that was 80’s themed. On his way he made sure to play his 80’s playlist so he’d be in the right state of mind to participate. He didn’t really dress up too much, just some dark wash jeans and a leather jacket. A leather jacket you fashioned for him with your matching red lingerie set.

Sebastian repeats his promise, his swear, and his vow to himself as he crosses the threshold and is thrown into a swarm of 80’s dressed people. There’s wild hair and bright colors as he moves through the crowd towards the pool, that’s where the makeshift bar is stocked with alcohol.

He subconsciously looks at each face hoping he doesn’t see you--or does he?

Chris, as always, is the bartender whenever there’s a party. He claims it’s his calling at parties to make drinks and chat up new people.

“There’s my guy! Whisky or tequila tonight, buddy?” Chris holds up each bottle of alcohol respectively.

“How about rum and coke?”

Chris lifts his eyebrows in surprise but dutifully proceeds to mix the desired drink. Rum and coke goes down smoother and doesn’t leave him with a splitting headache the next morning or gut rot like tequila does.

It has no relation at all to you preferring rum. Absolutely not.

“Have you seen her yet?” Chris asks, handing his best friend the red plastic cup.

Sebastian finds humor in this, they’re all adults and can afford actual glasses for everyone, and yet they’re supplied with red solo cups like a college house party. He glances around and is pleased to see a beer pong table is set up near the shed where a group of people are playing and cheering.

“Nope. Have you?” He takes a ginger sip testing the taste. It’s mixed well so he swallows some more.

Chris folds his arms and shakes his head.

“No. But I know she’s invited so you two better behave.”

“I will,” Sebastian nods, “I’m going through a three step guide in my head. I’m all good.”

“Yeah? What’s the percentage of it working?”

There’s a collective shout of your name behind him and he cranes his neck to see you being lifted in the air by the mutual friend of a friend you two share. You’re at the beer pong table and apparently you made the winning shot.

Sebastian looks away before he can really get a good look at you in your outfit but the flash of your skin flickers in his mind. He meets Chris’ eyes.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Sebastian does a good job of steering clear of you. His three step guide that he made up seems to be working but the more rum he drinks he gets them a little jumbled. He just took a shot with some guy he’s been talking to about cars when he feels a light tap on his shoulder.

“You’re supposed to dress up.”

He nearly chokes on his shot at the sound of your voice. Sebastian places the shot glass a little haphazardly on the table before turning around and he groans at the sight of you and Tom Jones’ voice is singing ‘She’s a Lady’ over the sound system.

You’re in high waisted jeans, a ruffled white bandeau and black suspenders that cling to your bare stomach. Your hair is styled in high volume and the lipstick you have on is so red he wonders if it tastes like cherries.

His eyes drink you in and land on your red nails that are placed on your waist, he takes in a deep breath before traveling back up to your eyes.

“I did dress up.”

“As who?” you scoff with a laugh taking in his own outfit. He notices how your eyes linger on the jacket.

“Leather jackets were very fashionable in the 80’s. The whole...rocker look,” he waves his hand off dismissively. “I should know.”

“You wore a lot of leather jackets as a toddler?” you snicker. “It was jean jackets and big hair.”

“And how would you know? You weren’t alive then,” he grins.

“I do my research,” you shrug. “And the 80's are coming back.”

“Well, who are you supposed to be?” he turns as you pull a can of Mike’s Hard Lemonade from a cooler, it’s strawberry lemonade. He holds his hand out expecting you to ask for help to pop it open but you open it yourself and toss the bottle cap onto the table.

“You’re joking, right?” you take a smooth chug of your drink.

“Are you portraying what a young woman in the 80’s would wear to a party?” he guesses taking in your outfit once more.

He promises not to...what was the first step again?

“I’m Kelly Kapowski,” you sigh with an eye roll then they widen at his vacant expression. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Saved by the Bell?”

“I don’t watch much tv. Does she look half as good as you do in this outfit?” his eyes drift over you once more.

He swears he won’t….what was it that he swore he won’t do?

“She looks better actually.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he smirks and you shake your head. “How’ve you been? Sorry I left early that last time we were together. I had an appointment that I forgot--what’s so funny?”

You’re laughing at his ramblings of the last time you spent the night together and he left at 5 a.m before you even woke up.

“I know you’re an asshole, you don’t have to cover it up with excuses,” you snicker then pull the neck of a rum bottle up from behind the counter.

“I am an asshole, aren’t I?” he watches you pour the drink into two shot glasses.

“Yeah you are. Shall we cheer to that?” you lift up a shot glass to him.

“Sure,” he laughs.

You clink glasses then swallow the shot in one go. He watches you while he takes his and smiles at the way your body shivers from the pure rum, and he’s zeroed in on your lips as your tongue swipes up the remaining rum.

The night continues with you two playing beer pong and winning three times consecutively. You’re touching his arm and leaning on him while you banter with your opponents. He gets a little mesmerized when you hold your hand behind your back as you take your shots and how you toss your hair back before each throw.

When you swat at a ball, you bump the table and he catches you by the waist so you don’t topple to the grass. You’re both giggling and he feels how cold your skin is.

“You’re freezing,” he murmurs in your hair, his fingers rubbing against the goosebumps on your stomach.

“I’m pleasantly warm and drunk.”

“You have goosebumps.”

“That’s because you’re touching me.”

Your eyes meet but before either one of you could say something else, you’re being called back into the game.

Sebastian ends up making the winning throw and you exclaim in joy then jump into his arms from the excitement. He laughs and spins you around in victory.

“Woah! No spinning or I’ll throw up!” you shriek in laughter and he stops abruptly.

When you’re bored of playing the game you take his hand and drag him inside to the makeshift dance floor. Your bodies move together as Queen plays and Madonna. Then when ‘Hungry Eyes’ comes on, your bodies are flushed together.

You’re dancing on the edge about to take it too far than you both know you should. His hips move against yours in a way you know all too well and you’re looking at him with those damn eyes of yours. Your eyes always mess with his head. He stops his hips then cups the back of your neck pulling your lips to his.

You kiss him back and he’s shocked at the taste of strawberries and not cherries but it makes him kiss you with more fervor. Your fingers slip into his hair as you continue to kiss amongst the crowd. He feels his head clear as your lips move with his, your body pressed against every inch of his.

“Want to get out of here?” he mumbles in your ear and you nod.

He’s always so good at knowing when to leave the party and he doesn’t care who notices. It’s a known fact that you two show up separately but inevitably leave together. It’s a habit that never breaks.

Back at your place, you fumble with your keys as he kisses your neck and his fingers are teasing the lower part of your stomach. You crash through the door in a tangle of arms and legs. He kicks the door shut and captures your lips in the same movement.

He moves through your darkened apartment like so many times before and makes sure to watch for the door handle. He’s bumped his hip too many times in the past. You make quick work of yanking his jacket off just as he snaps your suspenders from the clips.

You gasp when he suckles on your neck, his hands hot and needy on your waist and stomach. He always remembers how much he misses you when you’re together like this again. When he wants to touch you in a certain spot you move your body so he can before he gets a chance to voice it. You’re never afraid to tell him to keep doing whatever it is he’s doing and the noises you make?

You unclasp the frilly white fabric and Sebastian is quick to cup your breasts in his hands and attach his mouth to one of them. You hum in response, carding your fingers through his hair as his tongue rolls and swirls over your bud in a tickling fashion that twists your stomach in knots.

You back up until you fall onto the bed together and he removes his clothes while you shimmy out of your jeans.

“Wait,” he stops your hands from pulling your panties down, his hands over yours. “Let me.”

You smile and let him take off your last article of clothing. He leaves open mouthed kisses up from the curve of your knee, up your thigh and stomach. His tongue leaves a trail between your breasts and you feel him against his thigh.

You moan and he takes himself in his hand, ready to guide himself inside you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you gasp breathlessly and he stops his movements quickly.

“Are you okay? Do you feel sick or need water?” he asks, cupping your cheek in his hand.

Your hand covers his, your eyes steady on him.

“I’m okay. I want this--you, always but…”

“What?”

“Promise you won’t leave tomorrow?”

Your request is simple and staring at you now he’ll fulfill anything you want. He nods and a faint bell of a promise rings in his ear. Was this what he was trying to remember earlier? The promise of not leaving you?

You lift your head connecting your lips and he swears he’ll keep this promise just as he sinks into you. Your moan is so sweet and you fit around him so perfectly it makes his body shiver slightly. Just like on the dancefloor, your bodies move rhythmically and the faster he moves the louder you get.

Your nails make large arcs in his back as you orgasm twice. You’re panting his name, your nails falling slack against his sweaty back.

“So good for me,” he pants, dragging your hands up above your head. He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you. “Got one more for me, baby? Hm?”

“Mhm,” you nod, already feeling your stomach twist at his words.

“Yeah you do, you’re such a good girl for me,” his hips start to move at a quicker pace again. Your mouth opens in pleasure as he hits the right spot. “Always so good for me.”

He watches you come for a third time, your moan long and sweet and then you’re snatching his hair in your fingers. You bring his lips to yours frantically.

“I want you to come for me,” you whisper. “Wanna feel you.”

He groans at your words and licks into your mouth, thrusting as fast as he can chasing his own release. You moan along with him and then he pulls out and his body pulses. He tastes strawberries.

Sebastian has his face in his hands as he remembers the swear, promise, and vow he made to himself and the one he made you. He broke all four including two hearts. He’s doubled over in the allotted strikes.

After being together last night he cleaned you up and got you some aspirin and a glass of water. You rolled over and fell asleep in seconds and he stayed up the whole night forcing himself to stay. He stared at the ceiling chasing his thoughts and then when you rolled over cuddling into him he almost fell asleep.

When the birds started to chirp that’s when he slipped out from underneath you and put his clothes back on. He noticed the goosebumps on your legs and covered you up then kissed your forehead with a whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’

You deserve better than him and that’s why he leaves before you could love him. If he stays he’ll never want to leave and that’s dangerous for his heart and yours.

His phone buzzes again but this time it’s a text message from you.

Delete my number and if you see me at a party, don’t approach me. I’m so over this Seb. This is the last time you break my heart.

He should feel relief that this is the end, but he only feels worse. Why couldn’t he just stay?

********

taglist: @cxddlyash @calumance (tagging you because you let me scream about ideas)

#sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan writing #sebastian stan fic #seb stan fic #seb stan oneshot #seb stan angst

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stratossphere · 4 years

Text

bodyguard | a. hotchner

summary: reader needs someone to spend the night with them while an escaped convict is stalking them, and they choose aaron hotchner, thinking he won’t even come.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, oral (m. recieving), fem! reader, dirty talk, language

a/n: this is my first fic so go easy on me lol

——

"Okay. This is ridiculous." You scoffed, staring at Morgan. You did not need a bodyguard. You were 25!

"Ridiculous or cautious?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at you. You silently wondered if he got them plucked and waxed to make them look that good. At your annoyed look, he sighed. "Well, how about this? I'll let you pick who guards you."

"That's stupid." You paused for a moment, mulling it over. "Okay, let me think about it." You sighed. You were on the brink of coming up with a plan, but you needed time to think. The man you had arrested had been released, and had promised in a letter to kidnap and torture you to his best ability. Comforting.

You sat at your desk for a while, mindlessly sorting through case files JJ had dropped on your desk, trying to think of some way to get out of being babysat by someone on the team. At first you were going to pick Derek because you liked his sense of humor, but then rationalized that he would probably make you sit in a corner.

Then you thought Reid, by Morgan would probably also say no. Reid was dealing with issues of his own, and the last time he had been a bodyguard for someone, they had ended up making out in a pool. And that was not happening.

Prentiss was unavailable because of a case in another state she was working with Rossi, and you knew JJ had Henry. Suddenly, it dawned on you. Ask for Hotch, and he would 100% say no. That left Garcia, and Morgan would most likely say no to that because she was unarmed. So you made your decision.

"Morgan!" You walked back up to his desk, a proud look on your face. You may not have been the smartest profiler, but you were definitely the best at getting your way.

"What's up, sweetheart?" He asked, turning in his chair and grinning at you. "You picked me, right?" Ooh, so confident. You shook your head.

"Hotch."

"Ooh, nicely played. No way he's going to say yes." He chuckled. "Go up and tell him."

"What? I have to tell him?" You complained, pouting. You didn't want to have to deal with his seemingly never ending temper. But alas, you marched your happy ass up to his office, and knocked on his door. He was on the phone but he motioned you in, telling whoever was on the phone he would need to call them back. He set down his phone, turning his attention to you. He looked exhausted, and if you weren't afraid of him, you would've told him he needed to go home.

"What?" He snapped impatiently, making you want to back out of that office as fast as you could. Hotch in a bad mood wasn’t exactly your favorite thing. You scoffed. Attitude much?

"Well, good evening to you, too."

"What can I do for you? I was kind of busy." He said a little softer, huffing and reaching again for his phone. You chewed on your lip. You hated asking people things. Even more so when they were apparently in a pissy mood.

"Morgan needs you to be my bodyguard for the night." You blurted, staring at your feet and then back up at him. He sighed deeply, staring at you for a second. Heck yeah, he's going to say no. You knew that look, seeing as he literally said no to you at least 5 times a day.

"Uh, okay. I'll get my stuff and take you home." He said, standing up. Your jaw dropped. No fucking way. He raised an eyebrow at your reaction to his words. Shit. Now you had to back your way out.

"What? No! You were supposed to say no!" You whined, throwing your hands in the air. Essentially throwing a fit in his office. In front of your boss. "You're obviously busy. See you later."

"I didn't ask what you wanted me to do, Agent. Get your stuff and we'll head to my car." He reprimanded, heading towards the door. "Let's go. And I don't want to hear any complaining." Well that was unexpected. You understood that he was overworked, but did he really need to yell at you?

"You're already acting like my drill sergeant and we aren't even home yet. Are you going to be this way the whole time?" You ignored his request, moping as you followed him. Morgan gave you a surprised/empathetic look as you passed by, and you pretended to throw up. He turned to look at you, clenching his jaw. You stopped as soon as his eyes met yours, straightening your posture. Force of habit, being around your straight-laced boss all the time.

"I can see you. You're right next to me." He muttered, giving you an annoyed look. You stifled a groan at his stone stature. This was going to be a long ride.

The drive home was silent, the only words spoken were "don't touch that" when you turned on the radio. He let The Beatles play, though, which you found interesting seeing as it was playing off the CD in his car already. Hotch likes Lennon. When you got home, you led him into your apartment, only after he'd cleared it for you. This was all so stupid.

"You should just go home. It's not like I'm going to die." You said as you watched him walk through the house with his shoes on. Who knew what kind of shit he had walked through in his work shoes?! Part of you was too afraid to see what his socks looked like anyways, so you let it go. You collapsed on the couch as you watched him look through stuff, that serious 'boss face' set even deeper than usual. It was exhausting, watching him frown so much. You always tried to make him laugh or smile, but to no avail. He was a stone cold bitch.

"No. You can't just be here by yourself." He said, stopping his pacing in front of you. His frown deepened (if that was even possible) at the amused look on your face, and he crossed his arms, pausing where he was standing in the kitchen. "What?"

"How do you just frown? All day? Like, I don't think I've ever seen you smile. Ever." You asked, giving him a curious look. He chuckled, shaking his head. But he didn't smile. How do you manage to laugh without smiling? Maybe he was soulless. That would make a lot of sense, honestly.

"You should go to bed."

"I'm not tired. You just want to get rid of me." You scoffed, shaking your head. He pinched his nose, sighing heavily. You were starting to seriously annoy him. Personally, you thought it was very funny.

"If I say yes, will you shut up and go to bed?" He asked dryly. You put up your hands in defense, getting up and rolling your eyes. You didn't need that kind of disrespect in your own home.

"You can't be my boss when we're in my house." You pointed out, turning on the living room light. "Hotch. Take off your shoes. Stay a while. Jesus Christ." Him pacing like that was starting to seriously stress you out.

"My job isn't to 'stay awhile.' I'm watching you, not hanging out with you." But he did kick of his shoes, and low and behold, he was wearing plain black. Boring. He could've at least done some colored diamonds. "Why are you staring at my feet."

His voice startled you, and you glanced back up at his face. He had a questioning look on his face, and he looked annoyed. But then again, he always looked annoyed.

"Sorry. I was just noticing how boring your socks are." You mumbled. He really needed to get some fashion tips from Reid and Penelope when it came to socks. He would've yelled at you if you were back at the BAU, but all he did this time was laugh.

There! A smile. A small one, but still a smile.

"Stop profiling me. All my socks are the same." He said curtly, crossing his arms. You faked a disappointed sigh, shaking your head.

"You shouldn't have said that if you didn't want me to profile. You like order." You offered, sitting back down. He looked unfazed by this, and shrugged. Just slightly.

"You already knew that, though. You've spent a lot of time in my office." He pointed out. He took off his jacket, hanging it on your barstool. Okay. Making progress. You nodded, giving him a grim look. Well, he wasn't wrong. That man spent more time reprimanding you than he did actually talking to you.

"You also like yelling." You grumbled, grinding your teeth momentarily to show that it pissed you off.

"And apparently, you like being yelled at." He said with raised eyebrows. You watched him, hiding the small smile on your face behind your palm. He wasn't so scary when he looked like that. Face relaxed.

"You don't want to be here." It was very obvious. He wouldn't sit down, and he was seconds away from starting to pace again. Plus, he kept looking through the open window. He was watching. Waiting. It was making you just as restless as him. Who knew SSA Hotchner was so squirrelly?

"I could be home with my son right now." He admitted, raising an eyebrow at you as if to say and? so what? you chose to come here in the first place.

"Then go home." You stated simply.

"No." Ugh. So stubborn. You decided to make light of his attitude.

"Well, at least I know someone enjoys my company." You joked, patting the space next to you on the couch. "You should really sit down. You can't just stand there all night." You'd think after so much walking and standing at work, he'd want to sit down and relax.

To your surprise, he did sit down, crossing his arms. This was the most calmly dressed you had ever seen him, and yet he was dressed more formal than anyone who had ever taken you on a date. Your eyes lingered on the top button of his shirt. He had unbuttoned it at some point. The way his shirt fit snugly on his arms, his hands...

"Do you know anyone who seems to linger around your apartment too long? Seems to always be there when you leave?" He was trying to divert your attention back to the case, but you didn't feel like talking about it. At least he had stopped your staring. You hoped he hadn't seen it.

"You know, the good thing about this is that you left at a normal time today." You pointed out. When he could get away with it, you weren't sure he even left his office overnight. He was there later than you and always there earlier the next morning, so you couldn't be sure. If he didn't annoy you so much, you'd worry about his wellbeing.

"I don't appreciate you judging my work schedule. What I do after you leave is not under your jurisdiction." He stated tensely, clenching his jaw. You groaned, leaning your head back dramatically. He was starting to give you a headache.

"Hotch. Loosen up. Seriously. You could eat something, watch something on TV, go to bed, get a drink, talk to me without that glare on your face-" you tsked, "-I could go on forever."

"How about you go to bed and I'll watch something? You still have work tomorrow." He said, reaching for the remote. You sighed, getting up and giving up at the same time. He also had to work tomorrow but WHATEVER.

"Fine. But if you're going to watch The Bachelor, don't tell me what happens. I'm recording it." You warned, pointing at him aggressively. He shook his head disapprovingly as you walked away and into your room. It was weird, knowing Aaron Hotchner was sitting in your living room, and you were going to bed. Very weird. But you couldn't erase the stupid smile he had caused from your face.

All jokes aside, once you were in your room (and you could hear the news in the living room, you should've guessed), the reality of the situation was starting to set in. Someone was watching you. Waiting to murder you in any way they could. Most likely torture and mutilation as he had his original victims. And yet, they hadn't had enough evidence to prosecute. You were alone now, and there was no one to distract your stalker.

You checked out the windows a couple of times, hiding behind the curtain. You couldn't tell if it was the dark or your imagination, but you saw people everywhere. Shadows in the alley outside your window, someone standing across the street, you began to feel increasingly jittery. Okay. You gave up. You were not about to be murdered in your sleep when you had your made-of-steel boss basically waiting for your call. You weren't just going to waste your resources.

"Hotch?" You called, unable to hide the quiver in your voice. You heard footsteps, and a second later he was in your doorway, looking panicked. You were already starting to regret your decision. You didn't need him in here. You didn't. You didn't.

"What? What's going on?" He asked, halting to a stop and looking around frantically. You grimaced, shaking your head. You needed him in here.

"Nothing. Sorry. I was just going to ask you if you could look around one more time. Just to make sure." You said sheepishly, looking at him hopefully. He sighed in relief, relaxing. You had obviously worried him.

"Of course. Stay with me, just in case." He waited for you to follow him before walking out of the room. His demeanor was relaxed, and you could tell he was sure there was nothing to worry about, but he was looking anyway, which was nice. You did a full sweep of the apartment and obviously came up with nothing. You couldn't ignore the fact that you had immediately felt at ease when you had seen his face.

"Clear." He said as he closed your closet door. Part of you wanted to laugh at the obscurity of the situation you had just witnessed. Your boss checking your closet for monsters. Ridiculous. But the other part was focused out the window. Maybe you weren't hallucinating.

"Hotch." You whispered, moving to the side so you weren't in full view. When he looked your way you pointed out the window to the person who actually was standing across the street. So you weren't crazy. Hotch looked out the window from where he was standing and immediately reached for his gun, not taking it out but not taking his hand off of it. He watched for a while, then removed his hand.

"He's walking a dog." He realized, slowly closing the curtain. You sat down on the bed, pulling your knees to your chest. You sighed in relief. You were being so stupid.

"Okay. This is a lot." You mumbled, watching him glance out the window one more time. He turned back to you, a concerned (or something like that) look on his face.

"I can sit in here until you fall asleep." He said quietly, nodding to the chair next to your bed. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, the offer not one you would expect from your boss.

"Uh, yeah. That would be great, actually." You climbed under your covers as you watched him sit down and dial a number. You didn't know how you were supposed to sleep with him talking on the phone, but you went along with it and laid down.

"Hey, Garcia. I know it's late. I need you to arrange tighter security around y/n's apartment. There's only so much I can do from here." He paused for a second, listening to whatever Penelope was saying on the other end. "Thank you. And please, stop calling me that." He hung up, and then dialed another number. You stared at the ceiling as you listened to him talk endlessly with like 6 different people about six different things, and thought: who knew hotch was such a loudmouth?

"What are you, a teenage girl?" You groaned, sitting up. He looked startled, but he stopped dialing.

"Excuse me?" He must've thought you were sleeping.

"I have never met someone who spends so much time on the phone. Do you ever sleep?" You complained, turning your head to look at him. He turned off his phone and set it in his lap, giving you an annoyed look.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"It's impossible to sleep when you're talking." You weren't about to tell him that his voice was comforting. More when he wasn't using his Unit Chief voice. But you had yet to hear much of that.

"Not true. Jack falls asleep every night to Harry Potter." He objected. You rolled your eyes, pulling the covers further up towards your chin.

"I'd rather you read then talk about case files." You muttered.

"I don't have a book." He argued. You couldn't tell if he was joking or not, so you opened your nightstand drawer and pulled out some stupid mystery book you had never read. You didn't really have a lot of time for reading with your job.

"Profile and solve before the book ends." You suggested. "I'm sure you'll figure it out by the 3rd chapter or so. Probably the butler." For some reason, you were feeling pretty drowsy as soon as he had stopped talking, and it was getting hard to keep your eyes open. He gave you a gentle smile, opening the book and looking it over.

"Butler? It's usually the ex-boyfriend." He countered. You laughed weakly, closing your eyes and humming a small agreement.

"You can read it out loud, if you want." You mumbled. He paused for a second, and then he started reading. The book was about a dead son, and all the family were suspects. His voice has quieted down considerably, and as he turned the pages, his tone was barely audible. You fell asleep before he could get any farther than that.

——

You jolted out of a bad dream of someone breaking in when you opened your eyes. You were leaning on your arm, but your arm wasn't on your mattress. It was in Hotch's lap. You looked up to see that he was asleep, head leaning back with his mouth slightly open. You got up, stretching your arm seeing as it was asleep. This woke him, and he jolted into awareness. You rubbed your eyes, trying to bring the room into focus.

"Calm down." You mumbled, falling back against your pillows. You tried to calm your heartbeat, but for some reason panic had set in and wouldn't leave.

"You were thrashing in your sleep. I couldn't get you to sit still unless I held you down like that." He said, explaining the way you had woken up. You closed your eyes again, taking deep breaths. "Are you okay?"

"Not at the moment, no." You huffed. You reached out your hand, finding his and squeezing it tightly. "This is kind of scary. What does it tell you about me that I'm an FBI agent scared of an invisible man?"

"Tells me that you're sane. I would be worried if you weren't scared." He held my hand in both of his, giving me a sympathetic look. "You're not even fully awake." His skin on your skin was making you feel a certain way, even if it was just his hands.

"Can you sit with me?" You mumbled, squeezing his hand tighter. His hands on yours were calming the panic a little bit, but not enough. He chuckled.

"I'm already sitting with you. You probably won't even remember this conversation in the morning."

"No, like, in bed with me. Just sit with me. Please?" You begged. You knew he was going to say no, but it never hurt to ask. He sighed.

"Fine. But just this once." He got up and walked over to the other side of your bed, crawling in slowly. You leaned up against his side and wrapped your arms around him, his arm coming to rest on your shoulders. His cologne smelled expensive, and it was comforting. He had taken off his button up shirt at some point, and all he was wearing was the white t-shirt he had been wearing underneath it. It was soft against your fingers, and it smelled of laundry detergent. You could feel his heartbeat with your head on his chest like that.

You fell asleep like that, and part of you wondered if maybe, just maybe, you had a soft spot for Aaron Hotchner. Not long after that, you regretted the thought as he woke you for the millionth time. The man wouldn't sit still. He kept shifting around, shoulder hitting your side or a kick to the leg. Only once did he mutter a gravelly sorry and still for about ten seconds. Finally, you had had enough, and you jolted into sitting position, looking at your alarm clock. 3:28.

"What is wrong with you?" You groaned, turning to look at him, a desperate look on your face. You couldn't sleep if he was going to keep doing that, and you had had enough. You startled him considerably, and his head whipped around to look over at you. He had resorted to a lying down position, his pillow shoved under his arm and his hair tousled. He looked pretty good like that.

"I didn't know you were awake." He muttered, resting his head on his hand. You mimicked his position, quirking an eyebrow at him. You had no idea if he could even see it in the dark. He sighed uncomfortably. "Nothing is wrong with me."

"You sure? Because you've shifted in your sleep more times tonight than I think I have in my entire life." You pointed out, lying back down on your side and keeping your eyes on him. "What's bothering you?"

"Well, it's just..." he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "I'm in a bed with my coworker, and then I had a nightmare-" Aw, poor baby. Wait what? Split second decisions were made.

"Come here." You said gently, opening your arms to him. He hesitated for a second before letting his head fall to your chest, sighing softly as your fingers found his hair. Yeah, you definitely had a soft spot for your boss. You did that for a while, just running your fingers through the dark strands and making it stick up all over the place. "You want me to help you relax a little bit?" It was a stretch, and there was a chance that he was going to shut down and go sit in the living room, but the haze of waking up in the middle of the night had brought you some welcomed confidence.

"You already did it! What's the harm in continuing to do it?" You pressed another kiss to his lips, inhaling the scent of his cologne. "Plus, I don't kiss and tell." His hands slipped under your shirt, his fingers coming in contact with the warm skin of your back. A low chuckle against your lips and he seemed to be okay with it.

"Oh you don't?" He complied as you started to unbutton his shirt, gasping for breath as he sucked harsh marks on your neck, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. Any bit of hesitation he had been displaying previously was gone, and now all you could see was animalistic hunger in his eyes. His skin against yours was intoxicating, and even though it wasn't physically possible, you wanted to press yourself closer to him. Your fingers found his belt buckle, blindly fumbling with the silver piece.

"You want to know a secret?" He breathed as he broke the kiss, helping you get his belt undone and sliding out of his work pants. You couldn't help but laugh, his words completely unexpected. "What's so funny?"

"A secret? My big bad boss wants to tell me a secret?" You rested your elbows on his shoulders, waiting for his answer. You were secretly curious to know what this secret of his was. He pressed another kiss to your lips before motioning to the black socks he was still wearing.

"These socks are reversible." He whispered. A small smile spread onto your face, your hand reaching down to his feet and peeling back his sock to see if he was bullshitting you. He wasn't. The socks may have been plain, boring black on the side he had chosen to wear outside, but on the inside, they had little Santas all over them. You started giggling again, pulling him back into a kiss.

"I love them, but I wanna see you naked." You sang, your hand slowly trailing its way down his stomach. He sucked in a harsh breath, quickly stopping your hand.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked, tipping your chin so that your eyes looked into his. There was worry in his eyes, but at the same time, there was undeniable lust. You nodded eagerly, lips parting slightly in a way you hoped would get him all hot and bothered. He shook his head, sighing.

"I need to hear you say it."

"I want you. I need you, Hotch." You whined, opening your mouth again as his thumb dragged across your lips. He pressed his thumb into your mouth, watching you with hungry eyes.

"You can call me Aaron." He chewed on his lip as he watched you suck on his thumb, looking up at him with faux innocent eyes. Your fingers found the waistband of his boxers again, starting to pull them down slowly. This time he didn't stop you, groaning slightly as your fingers brushed his hard on and pushed his boxers off as he accommodated the movement. He had pulled his socks off after showing you, so now he was completely bare in front of you.

God, you wanted this man to rail you.

You released his finger, instead attatching your lips to his neck and kissing your way down his chest. He was heaving for breath, and you felt a small pang of pride at how worked up you had him without even touching him where you knew he wanted you to. His fingers made their way into your hair, pulling slightly. You wasted no time, and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. He gasped audibly, pulling a little harder and bucking his lips toward your mouth. You swiped your tongue over the slit, earning a filthy moan from his lips. He pressed deeper into your mouth, and he started to thrust heavily, fucking your face. You hollowed out your cheeks, the moans coming from his lips going straight to your cunt.

"Oh, fuck. J-just like that." He groaned, his nails digging into your scalp. Who knew Aaron Hotchner was so vocal?

You bobbed your head feverishly in turn of his thrusts, groaning as he pulled at your hair. Suddenly, he pulled you off, wiping your lips with his thumb before pulling you back to his lips for a brushing kiss. He started to aggressively pull of the remainder of your clothes, throwing them haphazardly across the room. He pushed you back on the bed, slotting a knee between your legs.

"You know, there's something that I like to think about a lot." He mumbled, his hand drifting down your stomach. The way your body reacted to his touch, back arching and breath quickening, was making him so hard his cock was aching for you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding against him.

"Yeah? What's that?" You asked, gasping as he started running slow, lazy circles over your clit. "God, I need you inside me, Aaron."

"I think about fucking you until you scream. Watching you come on my cock while I pound into you. Feeling your skin against mine. Wondering how you would taste." He whispered into your ear, chuckling as you reached between you to line him up with your entrance.

"You and me both, sweetheart." You bit his lip, trying to push forward to get him inside you. He put a hand on your stomach, keeping you still and at the same time stopping his movements on your clit. He raked his hands through your hair as he slowly pushed into you, pausing to let you get adjusted to his size.

"Don't call me sweetheart." He groaned, pressing his forehead to yours as you jerked your hips up towards his. His cologne had filled your senses and clouded your brain, and you knew that in the future every time you smelled it, you were going to associate it with the feeling of being stuffed with your boss's cock.

"More. Please." You whined, gripping his shoulders and grinding your hips in hope of getting some friction to soothe the unbearable arousal that was begging to be quenched. You needed him. You couldn't handle any more. He chuckled, starting to slowly move his hips, starting a teasing pace that he knew wasn't even close to being enough. You let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a whine, loving the feeling of him buried to the hilt inside of you.

"So needy, aren't you?" He lifted one of your legs so that it was up against his chest, effectively thrusting into a different position. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, putting your hand over his where it was gripping your breast.

"Fuck! Fuck yeah, right there!" You cried, feeling your orgasm starting to build in your lower stomach. He let out a groan as his thrusts became sloppier, signaling that his climax was close behind. Your moans became more sporadic and his name fell from your lips over and over again as your high approached. "Oh god, m'gonna cum." You were breathless, and barely able to get the words out.

"Don't." He leaned onto you, pulling you so that your chests were pressed together, you in his lap and his hands on your hips pulling you down onto him. You shook your head, gripping his hair and pulling. You couldn't hold it. Every part of your body was on fire, and your walls fluttered around him as you held on with everything you had. Finally, he moaned into your neck, and you felt his cock twitch inside of you.

"Cum. Cum all over my cock." He groaned, kissing you with teeth and tongue as you both came together, the feeling of his cum inside you causing you to moan on top of the euphoria from your orgasm. You both rode out your highs before holding that position, both trying to catch your breath. He then slowly pulled out of you, eliciting a whimper from you as he brushed your sensitive clit. You laid back on your bed, so blissed out you barely felt him lie down next to you.

He pulled you against his chest, his chin resting on your head and his arm wrapped loosely around your waist. After a while, you felt his cum start to leave you, so you got up to go to the bathroom, cleaning yourself up and peeing before going back into the bedroom, admiring the sight in front of you. Aaron, spread out on the bed, sweaty and disheveled. He looked gorgeous. You just stood there for a second, locking the sight into your memory. You had no idea if you would be able to do this again. The thought hadn't even crossed your mind that he might not want to see you again after tonight. He was, in fact, just supposed to be babysitting you. Not fucking you. Maybe he was sitting there thinking about how much he regretted having sex with you.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" His voice interrupted your intrusive thoughts, bringing you back to earth. You sent him a small smile, padding back to the bed and getting in next to him, sliding back under his arm.

"You're just so handsome. I can't believe Aaron Hotchner is naked in my bed." You mused, running your forefinger over the grooves and lines on the palm of his hand. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his free hand drawing lazy circles on your lower back. The thought of someone stalking you outside your window had definitely escaped your mind, and the anxiety that had plagued you earlier about your situation was no longer a thought as you laid in Aaron's arms.

"Get used to it, sweetheart. I can't imagine being anywhere else." He purred, giving you a chaste kiss. He smelled so good. Everything about him was just so amazing. You wanted him to hold you forever. You haphazardly ran your fingers through his soft dark locks, relishing the reaction you received from him when you did so. Eventually, the both of you drifted off, holding each other like that. That was certainly not how you thought the night was going to end.

——

Your alarm for work the next morning woke you, and for a second you freaked out. Shit! Someone was in your bed! Then you remembered, and sighed in relief as you sat up. He opened his eyes slowly, groaning and trying to keep you from getting up.

"We have to leave in 30 minutes." You mumbled, getting up and stretching your arms over your head. You knew he was a very routine-oriented person, so you thought it would be fair to at least warn him that you woke up and hour and a half after he did. It was common knowledge that he woke up way before he needed to be at work. Everyone at work poked fun at him for it. He shot up like a bullet, his eyes wide.

"30 minutes? Are you kidding me?" He rushed out of bed, frantically fixing his sex hair in the mirror. You laughed, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his torso.

"Calm down, Agent Hotchner. I'll make sure you get to work on time. You might have to skip the shower though." In all honesty, you had set your alarm for 30 minutes later than usual after last night's endeavors so that you could enjoy him in your bed for a little while longer. He turned around and kissed you, his hands roaming over your still naked body. "Easy, lover. Keep doing that and we will definitely be late for work." You warned. He had put on his boxers at some point, and after he broke the kiss, he was digging around for his clothes. You watched him work, pulling on clothes frantically and at the same time checking texts/emails on his phone. You leisurely got dressed, barely giving the time a thought. You couldn't get yelled at by your boss for being late if your boss was late with you.

"You're something else, you know that?" He huffed, adjusting his watch on his wrist as you sat in his lap while putting on mascara. You ignored him, concentrating on not poking yourself in the eye. Since he had to get ready at your house (which included him using your toothbrush and letting you brush out his hair) he didn't have his hair gel, so his hair fell on his forehead softly, which made him look so cute. You vocalized this thought to him as you got up and led him into the kitchen to grab your shoes.

"I'm not cute." He muttered, grumbling to himself as he tied the laces on his dress shoes. You brushed your thumb over his cheek, grinning.

"Uh huh. Whatever you say." You left after that, and guess what? You weren't even late. As you rode to Quantico, you silently wondered what he did in the two hours before he had to leave for work. Crosswords? The news? Working out? Changing outfits? Well, that last one seemed improbable seeing as he wore the same thing every day, but you never know. You honestly had no idea. When you walked into the bullpen and separated from Hotch, Morgan was immediately in your face, bombarding you with questions.

"So? How was it?"

"Did he sleep there?"

"Does he snore?"

"Did anything interesting happen?"

"Did he say anything about your apartment?"

"Slow down, Morgan. Jesus. It was...interesting." You sighed, sitting down on his desk so that he would sit down in his chair and calm down a little bit. He raised a perfect eyebrow, evidently wanting more.

"Did he sleep there?"

"Well duh, Derek. Unsubs don't just decide they can't stalk at night because it's dark outside and the monsters are going to get them. He had to stay there, according to him." You explained. You were stepping on thin ice, and you were hoping he wouldn't assume what had actually happened.

"Where did he sleep?" He pried, wiggling his eyebrows and giving you a suggestive look. You rolled your eyes, feigning annoyance with is antics.

"In a chair." You lied. Well, technically you weren't lying, he had fell asleep in the chair next to your bed for a couple of hours. But that wasn't the full truth. And as a knowing look crossed his face, you realized with fear that he seemed to know the same thing.

"You seem to be looking everywhere but me, mama. Come on, tell me the dirty details." He dragged the word way too long, a wide smirk on his face. I glanced up at Aaron's office, only to see him leaning against the railing out of Derek's eyesight, his look mirroring Derek's. You sighed, leaning in closer and sending Aaron an annoyed look.

"This stays between us, understand?" You asked, giving him a serious look. You didn't need him gossiping about your sex life with Garcia. Of course you were going right over to her room after this, but you wanted her to hear the real story, not Derek's no doubt over-dramatized version. He nodded eagerly, leaning in with you. You explained how last night went, and as soon as you got to the part about how you had sex, he couldn't contain himself.

"Oh my god. You did what?"

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #bodyguard fic

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star-six7 · 4 years

Text

I Never Thought They’d Get Me Here

Ray Toro x Gender Neutral!Reader (ending 3 of 4 for Here In This House of Wolves)

Word Count: 1481

A/N: Yeah, I suck. I’m really sorry for the wait with this one, but I hope it was worth it :)

Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction. No part of this story is meant to be libel, slander, or in any way derogatory towards any character’s real life counterpart. I’m not delusional; I know that these characters are simply based off of a public persona and may not actually resemble the people behind those personas. Any additional characters that you do not recognize are entirely fictional, unless otherwise stated. And finally, if you got here by Googling yourself, whatever happens next is 100% on you.

“Okay,” Brian said, turning around and stopping before entering the building. “I’m thinking we should split into pairs, just in case?”

“The buddy system, really?” Frank snorted. “This isn’t kindergarten, Brian.”

“I, for one, am in favor of this plan,” Gerard said, sounding nervous. Mikey moved to stand next to him without either of them saying anything.

“I’ll go with Ray. I feel like being paired up with the tallest one here is a good idea,” you stated boldly, smiling up at him. You had made up your mind on the way over. Today was the day you told Ray how you felt about him.

“Well,” Brian said glumly. “I guess someone needs to babysit Frank. Let’s go.”

Frank grinned, seemingly unoffended.

After the guides explained the rules and offered you the last chance to turn back, they brought you to the door that would lead you to what they claimed was “your worst nightmare.” You swallowed and moved next to Ray.

“Nervous?” he smiled at you.

“Yeah,” you nodded. You weren’t about to tell him it had less to do with the haunted house and more to do with the fact that you planned to tell him about your long-standing crush. Not yet, at least.

The last thing you saw before you were ushered into pitch blackness was an unreadable look on Ray’s face.

---

A few minutes later, you were shuffling down the path behind Gerard and Mikey with Ray by your side.

“This goddamn hallway,” Frank muttered up in the front, with Brian. “I have no idea if we’re even heading in the right direction.”

“It does feel like we’re going in circles,” Ray agreed. “Maybe we should split up and try and find the way to the next area.”

You heard Mikey and Gerard move off to your left while Frank and Brian pushed on to your right.

“Guess it’s just us now,” Ray said, somehow finding your hand in the dark. You were glad he couldn’t see you blushing.

“Yeah,” you whispered as your nerves skyrocketed. You cleared your throat. “Let’s try and beat them to the exit!”

Unfortunately, fifteen minutes later, you were no closer than any of the others. Speaking of which-

“Ray, do you know where the others are? I haven’t heard them in a while.”

“Me either,” he sighed. “Oh, shit!”

“What’d you find?” You were ready to get out of the dark hallway.

“I think I found a crack in the wall,” he said, sounding like he was concentrating. “Hold on-”

The section of the wall he was pushing on gave way, and you stepped out into what seemed to be an indoor maze. You took in the fake ivy-covered walls while Ray closed the door behind him.

“Wouldn’t want the others to figure out our secret,” he said sheepishly when he noticed your questioning look. “Shall we?”

And for the second time that day, you were holding hands with Ray Toro.

---

As you wandered up and down the paths with Ray, you let yourself get lost in thought. You remembered the tall, shy (and cute!), guy that Gerard had practically dragged down the basement steps for the first time, barely a week after the band went from being an idea Gerard would call you about at two in the morning to something real. You shook your head at yourself when you thought about how nervous you had been about adding a new member. You had been worried that Ray wouldn’t fit in with the long-standing, easy-going friendship you had with Mikey and Gerard. But, Gerard was right. The band needed someone who could play live. And Ray was certainly one hell of a guitarist.

In hindsight, it should have been no surprise that you and Ray became fast friends. Not only were you both dedicated, passionate, and talented musicians, but you genuinely clicked on many other levels as well. You couldn’t even count the hours spent in the Way brothers’ basement, arguing the odds of surviving your favorite horror movie scenes or building your absolute dream bands consisting of your favorite musicians. It only made more sense that you began to fall for him around the time My Chem went into the studio for the first time. You remembered staying into the early hours of the morning, hanging out on Geoff’s couch together as you pored over the previous day’s takes, eventually falling asleep on each other until Gerard woke you up to complain about his tooth.

“I hope you’re not laughing at me, or you might not be able to find your duffle bag tonight.”

You hadn’t even realized the small smile forming on your face until Ray interrupted your thoughts. You glanced up at him and saw a grin on his face that told you he was only joking.

“Wait, why would I be laughing at you?”

“Because,” he said, sounding glum. “I think we’ve been going in circles for the past twenty minutes.”

“We’ll figure it- wait, did you say twenty minutes? There’s no way this place is that big. How long have we been in here?”

Ray glanced at his watch. “25 minutes, actually.”

You swore as you sat down. “You don’t think the others got out already, do you? I mean, they would come back for us, right?”

Ray laughed as he sat down next to you, leaning against the wall of the maze. “Frankie might try it, just for shits and giggles, but Brian wouldn’t let him.”

“Thank god for Schechter,” you agreed. The conversation lapsed into silence, and you decided now was as good a time as any to test the waters. “Hey, at least we’re stuck together, right?”

Ray shifted to face you, smiling. “That’s true, Gerard would be hyperventilating by now.”

“And Brian would smack us upside the heads for getting lost in the first place.” You laughed and then took a second to regain your composure. “But, if I’m being honest… there’s really another reason why I’m glad I’m with you. Even if we might die in this maze.”

You paused, studying Ray’s face for a reaction. You thought you saw a flicker of emotion, but you couldn’t be sure. Apparently, Ray’s poker face could rival Mikey’s.

When you could tell that he wasn’t going to say anything, you continued. “I think it’s kinda obvious but… you’re my best friend. And as much as I don’t want to change everything for the worse, I feel like I can’t really hide it anymore. Ray… I think I’m in love with you.”

What you were going to say next died in your throat when Ray surged forward to kiss you. Your perception of the world around you slowly melted away as all of your senses began to hyperfocus on Ray. You couldn’t help the faint sigh that escaped you as he shifted closer, wrapping one arm around your waist and resting his other hand on the side of your face. Almost involuntarily, you scooted backwards until your back was resting against the corner you had sat down in, trying to get him as close to you as possible.

It was at about that point that you heard a familiar (and at the moment, grating) voice yelling at you from several feet away.

“Holy shit! Brian, you can call off the search party! I found them, and they’re making out, ew!”

Ray pulled away from you the second Frank had made his presence known. Though he rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed, you could see a blush creeping up his cheeks. If the heat in your face was any indication, you were sure you looked similar.

“Shut up, Frank,” Brian said as he rounded the corner, rolling his eyes. He turned to you and Ray and sighed, smiling. “I can’t say I’m not surprised.”

“Oh, Brian, are you gonna give them the ‘safe sex’ lecture? Scratch that, are you sure they know about the birds and the bees?” Frank said, and then laughed like that was the funniest thing in the world.

“Hey,” Ray said, scowling as he stood up. He offered you a hand and pulled you to your feet. “You better quiet down or I’ll make sure you never get shotgun again.”

“Okay, cut it out, assholes,” Brian cut in, though there was no real anger behind it. “We need to go find the others before Gerard goes into a catatonic state of shock.”

You half-listened to Ray and Frank bicker some more as you trailed behind them, unable to keep the smile off your face. It almost felt easier to breathe with your confession off your chest.

You had almost forgotten that you were still holding hands with Ray until he stopped suddenly, waiting to get a little distance from Frank and Brian.

“Hey,” he said, smiling down at you.

“Hey?”

“I forgot to tell you. I think I love you too.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! Feel free to tell me what you liked and send in requests!

#ray toro imagine #ray toro x reader #mcr imagine #mcr x reader #ray toro #my chemical romance #mcr #my chem #my chemical romance x reader #my chemical romance imagine #bandom #bandom imagine #gerard way #frank iero #mikey way #x reader #reader insert

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whatyouandihave-makesmefree · 5 years

Text

How to say “I love you” without actually saying it - or 137 Milkovichy ways to say “I fuckin’ love Ian Clayton Gallagher”.

1. Kiss me, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.

2. I’ll meet you there in 20.

3. You say that again, I’ll rip your tongue out of your head.

4. Take your hand off the glass.

5. You wanna chit chat more or you wanna get on me?

6. Fuckin’ tough guy, huh?

7. Jesus Christ, you want us to spread a blanket out and look for shooting stars next?

8. Sorry, I gotta go kill your dad, but I’m doing a lot of people a favor, including you.

9. -I missed you- You did? -Yeah, man.-

10. So, uh, what you going down for, then, huh?

11. Don’t know what you see in that geriatric viagroid.

12. -You fuck anyone in there yet?- God, no. -Wise choice.-

13. Hey, my dad took my brothers on a run out of town for a couple days, so you wanna ditch that dump and crash at my place, you can.

14. Fuck you, is what you were invited to.

15. What are you hoping, I tell you not to go? I’m gonna chase after you like some bitch?

16. -Don’t.- Don’t what? -Just…-

17. -You seen him?- Why do you care? -Don’t.-

18. You heard from Gallagher?

19. Not fucking Frank. The other one, the redhead.

20. I like fucking carrot-tops, like, with the freckles and the pale skin and fucking alien-looking.

21. He in trouble? What kind of trouble?

22. You wearing cologne? -No. It’s Kenyatta’s perfume soap shit.-

23. I gotta take care of something important.

24. No, I’m not having fun. I spent the whole day looking for your coked-out ass.

25. You coming back?

26. I’ll do it.

27. Those fingers go anywhere near that cock, I’m gonna break every knuckle in your hand, all 15 of them.

28. Together.

29. That all you think he is? Some twink?

30. Probably best if you don’t, tough guy.

31. Of course we are.

32. You want me to go? -No, I don’t want you to go.-

33. I’m not lying to you.

34. Ian, what you and I have makes me free, not what these assholes know.

35. Well, good. Leave. What the hell do I care, bitch? Fuck.

36. Hey! Excuse me! Can I get everybody’s attention, please? I just want everybody here to know I’m fucking gay. A big old ‘mo. I just thought everybody should know that. You happy now?

37. Fuck you! Don’t worry about it! I’ve been staying at Ian’s since you’ve been in the can, bitch! Guess what we’ve been doing, daddy! We’ve been fucking! And I take it! He gives it to me good and hard, and I fucking like it.

38. You’re a fucking dick. Yeah, there. That’s what you get.

39. You love him? -Maybe. I don’t know.- Because he has a real penis? -Yeah, I guess.-

40. Rise and fucking shine, Cinderella.

41. Yo, sleepy-face.

42. Hey, you okay? Feeling sick or something?

43. All right, you want me to bring you back something to eat?

44. Ian, are you high? You take something?

45. Fuck’s wrong with him?

46. Before, he was fine. He was happy. He’s staying up all hours of the night, dancing, telling fucking jokes. He kicks my ass every day. I can’t keep up with him.

47. No, no, look. He– he’s low… We cheer him up.

48. What do you mean, hos– Like a psych ward? No fucking way! No fucking way! He’s staying here.

49. I can– I can take care of him. Okay? Let me take care of him until he’s better.

50. Don’t fucking tell me what’s impossible! We’re taking care of him here. You, me, us. His fucking family.

51. He’s not going to some fucking nut house. You hear me? He stays here. He’s staying with me.

52. I’ll be there. -Better be.-

53. All right. I guess I’m going with you.

54. She’ll send him to a fucking shrink. No. We fix this ourselves.

55. I came out for you, you piece of shit.

56. What’s your type? -Redhead.- I am downstairs. -Batshit crazy.- Check. -Packing 9 inches.-

57. I got to take you to a hospital, Ian.

58. I’m worried about you.

59. His partner. Lover? Family? You know?

60. At least he’ll be getting some kind of fucking help.

61. Relationship to the patient? -Sister.- -You?- -Uh, boyfriend.-

62. Hey. Sorry I’m late.

63. We gotta get you to a fucking clinic. Get some meds. Today.

64. Hey, it’s okay. It’s all right.

65. He’s not a fucking lab rat.

66. He’s got me.

67. Hey, Ian’s sleeping in there.

68. All right, breakfast of champs. We got your mood stabilizer, anti-psychotic, anti-depressant. Gatorade.

69. Shut the fuck up. Take the pills, bitch.

70. Hey, no caffeine on your meds.

71. Eat it. Take all those pills on an empty stomach and you’re going to have diarrhea real bad.

72. I didn’t know which Bs to get, so I just got all the fucking Bs. I got B-complex, super B-complex, B-12, B-6.

73. The hell happened to your hand?

74. Did a doctor take care of that?

75. You can’t go anywhere unless you get that looked at, man.

76. Your hand, man.

77. No, no. Look, you’re not supposed to drink on lithium. It makes your blood fucking toxic, and it gets you hammered in like two seconds flat. You can’t-

78. You look like a fucking wet rat.

79. We’re going on a date. -Fuck, yes, we are.-

80. Where the fuck are you?

81. Where the fuck you been?

82. You okay?

83. It means we take care of each other.

84. It means thick and thin, good times, bad, sickness, health, all that shit.

85. You look good.

86. Got a new tattoo. Did it myself. Hurt like a son of a bitch.

87. Been thinking about you. You ever think of me? Gonna wait for me?

88. Will you? Wait?

89. You like the high school bleachers? Our spot, man.

90. Look, I’m, um I’m getting some new IDs, some cash, and heading to Mexico.- Wow. -You should come.-

91. Thought a lot about you inside. You’re under my skin, man. The fuck can I do? Hmm? Can I do?

92. Knew you’d come.

93. Come here.

94. I’m gonna see you again?

95. The fuck you looking at?

96. It’s what kept me going in the joint. The beach. Us.

97. Oh, check it out. Ian Gallagher putting his big boy pants on!

98. You never fucking visited me.

99. What am I leaving behind? My family? Who cares I never see those shitheads again. You had my back more than they ever did.

100. You ever think about me? When I was in the joint?

101. Fuck, I missed you.

102. What the fuck is that? I don’t want your fucking money! I want you to come with– me.

103. Don’t do this.

104. Fuck you, Gallagher.

105. I rolled on the cartel I was working for, and in exchange, guess who gets to pick where he gets locked up?

106. No, I just did it ‘cause it was the right thing.

107. Would you be fucking happy? -Yes, fuck, yes!-

108. I guess I need some advice. It’s about my partner, Ian.

109. You’re not throwing your fuckin’ parole for me. We need to get you the hell outta this shit-hole.

110. You don’t belong in here, Gallagher.

111. I shouldn’t have asked you to stay.

112. FaceTime your brother. See the baby.

113. You seen Ian?

114. About time, man. Your Panda Express is getting cold.

115. Eat your Szechuan beans.

116. Chill your fucking tits and eat your noodles, man.

117. Let’s get out of here, get some Pinkberry.

118. No. No. I’m not running. I need to protect him.

119. Jesus Christ. You proposing to me over fucking patty melts?

120. Fuck it. I do.

121. When you know, you know. You know?

122. No, just saying you don’t love me enough now. And that’s fine. It’s cool.

123. Jesus Christ, save the fucking speech, you pussy. I’ll marry you. Of course I’ll fucking marry you.

124. You must really love cock. -I definitely love one.-

125. You ever try to get me to move to Milwaukee, I’ll fuckin’ murder you.

126. Hey, I like the blue ones. -Yeah?-

127. You sure you still wanna go through with this? -Yes. Why?-

128. You’re a sneaky bastard.

129. -Take your meds?- Yes. -Good.-

130. The son of a bitch is never gonna let me be happy. He needs to die today.

131. Well, there’s plenty of strays wandering around the neighborhood. I’m sure we can pick one up for cheap.

132. Yeah, well, at least I don’t have to hide in a coffin till the sun goes down.

133. Damn straight, Gallagher.

134. I, Mikhailo, take you, Ian, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish you till death do us part.

135. Good morning, Mr - Millagher?

136. You hungry?

137. You wanna go again? -Absolutely.-

#ok i'm pretty sure this was legit #sorry yall #i had to #i know you're definitely gonna read all through this #even though yall know every word by heart #we deserve this #shameless #shamelessus #gallavich #gallahitched #gallavich wedding #ian x mickey #mr gallavich #mr millagher #shameless 10x12 #Ian Gallagher #mickey milkovich #Shameless season 1 to 10

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2996-sana · 4 years

Text

Seeking Arrangement - Rosé

Part 1

The pitter patter of the rain served as background noise for Y/N and Lisa who was sat on their couch munching on some cucumbers, eyes glued to the Kdrama playing on the TV. Y/N let out a dramatic sigh as she watches Ko Moonyoung and Moon Gangtae lock lips for the first time. The sound was not lost on her best friend who shot her a grin.

“Are you going all soft again, Y/N?”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the teasing tone in Lisa’s voice. This was not new as she was always on the receiving end of Lisa’s jokes about her being such a hopeless romantic. Though Lisa found this amusing about her best friend, she thinks there is strength in Y/N’s ability to believe in love after the shit her ex-girlfriend Suzy put her through. Could you really blame her? Being in love was without a doubt one of the best feelings in the world in Y/N’s book. For her, it was an overwhelming yet warm feeling that stretches throughout your whole body once it enters your life and leaves you feeling like you’re on top of the world (but its all fun and games until your partner cheats on you).

Despite this though, she was not in a hurry to find love. In fact, after the tragedy that was her last relationship, she just wanted to lie low and have fun for a while.

“Shut up. You’re lucky you’re in a stable relationship,” Y/N scoffs.

Lisa and her girlfriend Jennie have been together for 2 years now (3 years next month) and Y/N envied the love shared between the two.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. No one can resist you for too long,” Lisa tries to reassure her best friend, wrapping an arm around her.

Y/N grimaced, “Eh…I don’t really want anything serious at the moment. Especially after Suzy.”

Lisa pretends to gag at the sound of Y/N’s ex-girlfriend’s name, “I agree. Have fun and take it easy. You should like…I don’t know…find a sugar daddy or something.” They both chuckle at Lisa’s words, knowing she would never even think about it.

•

It was hours later on her bed while typing out a reply to some guy she matched on Tinder that she realizes how hard it was to find a worthy candidate to waste her time on. These boys lacked substance and were coming at her with the same pick-up lines. She wonders if they all got them at the same Fuckboy Convention. It didn’t help that she rarely matched with girls either.

She groans at the reply that came through.

Wyd tho? U tryna fuck?

“The audacity of these boys,” she mutters under her breath, closing the app.

As she stares at her ceiling zoning out, she remembers Lisa’s words from hours ago. A sugar daddy. She laughs at her best friend’s ridiculous idea. She could never.

Unless? No. It’s stupid. She doesn’t wanna give out any sugar AT ALL.

But she was bored out of her mind. For the past 3 months, she has been cooped up in her bed wallowing in self-pity while listening to the very suspicious sounds coming out of Lisa’s room. There were also only so many pep-talks she could give herself until she grew tired of her own words. It was this that fueled her to sit up and turn on her laptop. After all, she considered boredom as an invitation for her to find something that would raise her serotonin levels. And what is the value of life without a little fun? She owed herself the first few months of her breakup to relax and take care of herself after all the mental damage, but now she needed a little play. She needed both the loud and quiet joys of life, peace with a little bit of wild mixed in. It was needed to feed her soul.

She also couldn’t lie that she craved some sort of human connection and validation. Yeah, she definitely was not proud of that last one.

Y/N stared at the keyboard, not believing what she was able to type into Google.

How to find a sugar daddy?

What she found out during her deep dive in the wondrous world of sugar daddies and babies was the number one site to find one was called Seeking Arrangement.

So that is where she found herself, blinking at the statement written in bold.

100% Free to Join!

To hell with it, she thinks as she begins to fill out the application.

30 minutes later, she nods in approval as she scanned through the photos she chose. She would totally hit herself up if she was a sad middle-aged man desperate for companionship. As she hits submit, she was met with pictures of men – and surprisingly women, although there were considerably more men – complete with their basic information.

Looking for a woman to spoil.

Looking for love.

Looking for a loving companion.

Looking for a good time.

It was nothing she didn’t expect to find at a sugar baby site but it was the net worth of the men and women displayed on her screen that caught her eye. She was almost tempted to message one of them but couldn’t find it in herself to do so. She rolls her eyes at the thought.

She spent hours researching and signing up for a sugar baby website and she still finds herself being stubborn about making the first move.

Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was almost 4AM. She decides that she was going to wait for someone to message her first instead. Besides it gives off the vibe that she’s hard to get and that’s always a little bit sexy, right?

•

"Y/N! Wake up! I made banana pancakes.”

Slowly opening her eyes and stretching, her foot meets a hard surface. The cold metallic feeling on her foot was enough to remind her of her antics 7 hours ago. She hides her face on her hands, sighing. Why did she think that was a good idea?

Once she was out of her room, she was met with the sweet smell of banana pancakes and nutella. She dragged herself to where the smell was most present and found herself in the kitchen where both Lisa and Jennie sat on the counter. Jennie threw a gummy smile her way while her best friend simply nodded at her presence, busy stuffing herself with her girlfriend’s banana pancakes.

“Vas happenin’, love birds?” she greets them with a faux British accent.

“What kind of dollar store Zayn Malik am I hearing right now?” came Lisa’s reply to which Y/N’s response was to smear Nutella all over her best friend’s face.

“Yah, Y/N!” Lisa whines as she hits Y/N on the shoulder.

Y/N gasps as she prepares to retaliate.

“Children! Stop it.” Jennie scolds the two. She was used to the duo’s playful fighting but she also knew it could go on for hours if she doesn’t put a stop to it.

Both were quick to stop but stuck their tongues out at each other.

Y/N grabbed her plate to return to her room. She glanced at the couple making sure they were preoccupied enough not to notice what she was up to.

You have 11 unopened messages!

A loose grin formed on her face at the notification. Not bad. She hurriedly opened her inbox to find the different men who deemed her worthy to reach out to.

It was all pretty tame, it being the typical greeting. She sighed, already bored. It wasn’t until she reached the bottom of her inbox where a small gasp came out of her. She sat up and read the sender’s name.

Rosé Park. A woman.

She excitedly clicked on the woman’s profile.

It only took the woman’s profile picture for Y/N to realize that this Rosé Park was the type of woman she fantasized about. For starters, she was a brunette and the woman was a blonde. She was a sucker for blondes. Who could resist a good brunette and blonde wlw duo?

Santana and Brittany. Rose and Rosie. Clarke and Lexa. Piper and Alex. Need she say more?

Basically, Rosé Park was a dreamboat. Something radiated from her pictures that Y/N knew rendered her irresistible to both men and women. She could outshine any of these men on the site any day. It also only took her profile picture to realize that the woman was a big deal. Her outfit looked straight out of the pages of a fashion magazine. Why would gorgeous and rich 25-year old Rosé Park want to talk to a normal and boring 23-year old like her?

Y/N composed herself, fighting back a smile, before returning to her and Rosé’s chat.

Hi, gorgeous. I passed by your profile and knew I had to talk to you. Looking forward to your response x

Y/N’s blush seared through her cheeks and for a minute she thought her face was on fire. She suddenly felt awkward, demure, and coy; even going as far as attempting to hide her rosy features behind her slim fingers even if no one else was around to see her. She blames it on the fact that an insanely beautiful woman complimented her. So naturally, it took her at least 5 minutes of over-analyzing every possible response for her to actually send one.

Hi there :) You’re one to talk. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

To her surprise, three little dots indicating Rosé was typing appeared beside the woman’s picture.

Haha, cute.

Hmm what brings you to this site, Y/N?

The woman’s question made her pause. She doesn’t even know the answer to that. Was she supposed to make some shit up?

Um I was bored.

She facepalms herself as she hit send. Really? Your brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to come up with a more interesting response, Y/N?

Y/N thought she blew it as 45 minutes has passed and no response from the blonde bombshell came. She internally cursed herself for her boring response to the woman. Rosé probably thought she was an airhead.

•

It was 10PM after binge watching another Kdrama with Jennie and Lisa that she remembered being left on delivered by Rosé. Her mood quickly sours as she realizes she ruined her chance at getting to know the beautiful woman. Thinking to distract herself with the depressing fact, she goes to check if any of the men messaged her back. Sure, a man could never fill the void of a woman but she really needed to talk to another human being besides Lisa and Jennie.

Y/N was apparently in for a surprise because what awaited her was a message from the woman.

Well, I hope to provide some sort of entertainment for you ;)

I’m not one to beat around the bush Y/N. I think you’re stunning and a good lay in bed. That’s a really good source of entertainment for the both of us, no?

Jesus Christ. She was not expecting that.

Y/N knew what being a sugar baby entailed but she was still brought to a shock at how blunt Rosé was being and so early on into the conversation. The thought of being with Rosé like that, being able to feel her skin against hers, the godly sounds that it would elicit…

Her private thoughts made herself blush. It seems like if there was anything Rosé was good at it was making Y/N blush. But her unholy thoughts about the woman didn’t create a cute soft pink tint on her cheek like a healthy outdoors glow, it was beet red. Y/N figured that Rosé was probably highly practiced at the art of seduction. Rosé’s looks although a masterpiece sculpted by all the deities that exist… well, nothing so pretty could possibly harm you, right? But it was that combined with Rosé’s choice of words that had anyone she chose to even focus her attention on jumping through hoops to please her. So, she swallowed her pride and forced herself to play it cool, putting on a mask that she thought would appease the woman she really wanted to impress.

I like the way you think, Rosé. I like to think I make great company in bed too ;) Give me a time and place and I’ll be there.

•

That message was what lead Y/N to the 21st floor of Seoul Forest Trimage Towers, one of Seoul’s most luxurious and exclusive apartment complex, standing outside of Rosé’s penthouse two days later.

All the reasons not to go through with it and just leave came flooding in. Y/N can feel the soft panic growing inside her body as she wills herself to breathe in and out, not quite ready to ring the doorbell just yet. But before she could finish her fourth exhale, the door was opened to reveal the woman who has not left her mind ever since signing up for that damned site.

“I grew tired of watching you hyperventilate so I thought I’d do you a favor and open the door for you.”

Y/N almost choked on air as she looks at Rosé for the first time. The pictures on her profile did not do her justice at all. The woman could have graced every billboard or magazine in the city and she wouldn’t even question it.

Y/N did not say anything - did not know what to say. She was conscious of the smirking woman standing before her, dressed in a white dress that stopped just above her knees.

“Do you wanna come in, Y/N?” Rosé’s voice was dripping with amusement, eyebrows raised. Shyness wasn’t usually Y/N’s gig so what the hell was going on?

“Yeah, sure.”

Once she entered the threshold that Rosé called home, she immediately noticed how fancy and expensive everything was. She was immediately drawn to the large window overlooking the whole city. The glass was so clear that it looked like a high definition screen at the movie theatre.

Rosé quickly picked up on her fascination, grabbing hold of Y/N’s hand and leading her to the glass window. “Cool, huh? I picked this unit because of the view. The city below is so far away it's like another world. This penthouse is my cocoon and the window, well, the window shows me as much detail as I want to know.”

Y/N could only stare at their joined hands and then to the woman beside her, intoxicated by her words. “It’s beautiful, Rosé. I’d kill to wake up to this every way. You have great taste.”

“Yeah I do have great taste huh?” Rosé looked her up and down, biting her lip before chuckling. (Y/N swears she saw the gates of heaven open at the sound)

•

A few hours later after a candle lit dinner prepared by Rosé herself and a bottle of wine, Y/N finds herself straddled in the living room couch being kissed roughly on the neck as pure pleasure runs through her entire body.

“Fuck,” she pants as she feels Rosé grind on her. Unable to control herself anymore, Y/N holds Rosé’s head in her hands and pulls her into a fiery and passionate kiss.

“Someone couldn’t wait,” Rosé smiled against their lips.

With a laugh, Y/N pushed Rosé down on the couch, switching their positions, not breaking the kiss. Y/N’s hands slowly work their way around her body, tugging on Rosé’s dress.

“Off.”

Rosé sat up slightly, allowing Y/N to pull down the zipper of her dress, feeling skilled fingers unhook her bra. Rosé tears it off herself before reattaching their lips. Immediately, Y/N’s hands found itself on Rosé’s breasts as she tugged on her nipples.

Rosé gasps against her lips causing Y/N to pull away, making her way down and sucking on the skin surrounding Rosé’s breasts before soothing it out with her tongue.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I’m not complaining,” Rosé giggles but whimpers midway as she feels Y/N’s tongue latch onto her nipple.

“Probably the wine.”

Y/N couldn’t help but think that their bodies fit together as if they were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm.

Y/N’s hands drop to Rosé’s thighs, caressing her from above her panties. Rosé moans at the feeling of the soft silk rubbing against her as Y/N’s mouth still busied herself with her nipple.

“Oh my god.”

Rosé grips her hand tightly onto Y/N’s hair as she feels the wetness between her legs. “Take your clothes off. I wanna see you.”

Y/N stops devouring her nipple to pull her shirt off. Rosé drops her hands to the zipper of Y/N’s jeans pulling it down and slipping her own hand in.

“Good to know I’m not the only one dripping wet,” she teases.

Before she could begin her sweet torture on Y/N, she feels hands finally moving inside her panties and her mind went blank.

Fingers toyed with her nub making Rosé bite down on Y/N’s shoulder. Thumb continuing to rub Rosé’s nub, Y/N slipped two fingers in. Rosé moaned so loud that Y/N swears it was enough to get her off.

Pumping her fingers around Rosé, Y/N felt a smirk making its way on her face. She couldn’t believe she was on top of the godly woman seeing her face all scrunched up in ecstasy. She feels Rosé pulling her in for another heated kiss as she picks up her pace inside the woman. With every moan and whimper coming out of Rosé’s mouth, Y/N feels her own wetness.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Y/N mutters under her breath.

She could feel Rosé getting close as the woman’s grinding on her fingers became sloppier and her breaths became more uneven. Burying her face on Y/N’s shoulder, Rosé tries to stifle her moans as she finally comes undone.

Y/N slowly leaves feathery kisses up and down Rosé’s neck as she waits for her to come down from her high.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” she hears Rosé trying to catch her breath. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to take charge tonight.”

“Maybe I’m just full of surprises,” Y/N grinned, pressing a kiss on Rosé’s temple.

Rosé slowly sat up as Y/N leaves her place on top of her. “I guess you are.”

They both sat in silence as they picked up their clothes scattered on the floor before putting them back on. Rosé was the first one to break the ice as she reaches for her purse on the wooden table. It was at that moment Y/N remembered why she was even there in the first place. Disappointment stabbed through her like a knife. Somehow during the duration of the night, she made herself forget that she was there because of an agreement made online. As if she was there spending the night with a new lover, both milking the feeling of a love that just arrived. The night started out like a sweet melody of a blackbird -- full of promise, freshness, and newness to come. Now it sat like a cold cup of coffee waiting to be drained away. All of a sudden, she felt dirty and used and all she had to blame was herself. Rosé’s words from a few hours ago during dinner echoed through her head.

I signed up because I have no time for relationships. I’m just too busy for that. It saves me the hassle of meeting new people and having to get to know them, y’know?

And truthfully, no, Y/N didn’t know. She remembers Lisa telling her she loves like a puppy - devoted, playful, and trusting. So, no, Y/N didn’t know. She just didn’t roll the way Rosé rolled.

“Here you go,” Rosé reached out with a wad of cash in her hand. “Go treat yourself. You deserve it.”

It was the way Rosé said it, so confident and smug, that Y/N knew that she was not Rosé’s first rodeo. The woman sounded like she does it so often that she just didn’t care anymore.

“How many girls receive this same amount of cash?” Y/N laughs quietly and she hopes it didn’t sound as bitter as she felt.

“A couple a week,” Rosé grins so nonchalantly it makes Y/N stomach churn. “Why?”

“Nothing,” Y/N awkwardly shifts in her place on the couch. “Um, you really don’t need to. I’m not looking for cash.”

Rosé actually looked shocked at the girl’s statement. “I’m a little bit lost here.”

“I signed up because I was bored and curious not because I’m low on money,” she laughs keeping an unamused tone. “I really didn’t expect to reach this far ahead. So, you can keep your money Rosé.”

Y/N got up and started walking towards the door. She was halfway there when she felt Rosé grab her wrist.

“Why do you sound angry? Don’t act as if you didn’t know why I invited you here, Y/N.” Rosé looked at her confused. “We met through Seeking Arrangements for god’s sake. I thought we had a good time.”

Rosé did have a good time. Aside from the mind-blowing sex, she was impressed by Y/N’s ability to be present during a conversation, always having her own two cents to offer, which lead to a lot of fun and meaningful discourse all throughout dinner. She had never met a woman through that website as enchanting and beautiful as Y/N. Y/N was a smart woman who was good at sex and Rosé liked that. A lot. So why is she being difficult?

Rosé saw different emotions flash through Y/N’s face before settling on a look of defeat. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I did have a good time.”

Y/N stepped closer to Rosé. “I loved being here with you and money was never on my mind tonight. Maybe that’s why I reacted that way. I’m sorry. I joined Seeking Arrangements for fun because honestly…I was lonely and bored and looking for some sort of human connection and that’s what you gave me tonight. I just got lucky that you reached out. That was all I needed I promise.”

She offers Rosé a genuine smile before turning to leave once more. “Have a good rest of your night, Rosé.”

Y/N hears footsteps behind her as Rosé opens the door for her, a smile planted on her face. “You’re something else, Y/N.”

Before the door closes, Rosé speaks once more. “It’s Rosie now by the way.”

The last thing she saw was the woman throwing her a wink before the door finally closed.

#blackpink #blackpink x reader #blackpink imagine #rosé x reader #rosé imagine #blackpink scenarios

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joshslater · 4 years

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Five Step Program

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I stared at the contents of the envelope, a blue jockstrap, and a folded piece of paper. I hadn’t put much hope into this “miracle solution” to becoming a jock without any of the work. Of course there was a catch. “First 20 customers get their first shipment free of charge” was enough for me to fill out the form with my information. It wasn’t anything too revealing. Name, address, height, weight, age. A box where you could write what you hoped to achieve with this revolutionary five step program. That’s what they really were after, I guessed. Having people enter their dreams so that they can tailor their next scam better. I was even surprised I got anything in the mail at all, and now having opened it, it made even more sense.

I could see how sending a jockstrap to someone perhaps fulfills some legal requirement that the recipient could now look like a jock. It could be a way to avoid getting a federal fraud charge. But I hadn’t spent a dime on this, so it didn’t make any sense. The jockstrap looked like any other jockstrap, I guessed. I’d never owned one, nor worn one. The pouch was dark blue and made with two layers of some synthetic mesh material. The big waistband was light blue with the letters JOCK repeated in dark blue around it. There was a faint smell of synthetic material and detergent. I did a mental sigh and opened the folded letter.

Congratulation on becoming one of our first customers on the revolutionizing five step Jock Express program. As a thank you for signing up, this first part is totally free of charge. Should you wish to continue the program, as we are confident you will after having successfully completed the first session, simply use the URL at the bottom of this page to enter your credit card information and we’ll send you the next item as soon as the payment is confirmed. I’m happy to inform you that we can offer a reduced price for the entire program, should you chose to start it within five days. The price is only $100 for the next installment, and progressively higher as you advance in the program. There is no commitment to purchase so you can stop the program at any point. We’re confident you will want to complete all the five steps in the Jock Express program.

Fuck that! What morons sign up to this kind of shit?

Instructions: The Jock Express is the easiest and most user friendly fitness program ever developed. Simply drink a lot of water, put on the items included in each program step, as you normally would, and go to sleep.

I was even more confused. Why would that sway anyone to put out $100 for at best another piece of gym clothing? I put it all in my in-tray on my desk and let it slip from my mind. I had dinner, watched TV, answered some late emails and the usual Tuesday stuff. By bedtime I walked past my home office and had the sudden recollection that I had something waiting in the in-tray. Then I remembered what it was, and almost reluctantly decided to go ahead with wearing the damn thing. I was still convinced it was a scam, but was immensely curious to exactly how it would work. If nothing else I would get to feel what wearing a jockstrap feels like. I drank a glass of water, put on the jockstrap, and went to bed. The jockstrap was as comfortable as anything and I quickly went to sleep.

Apparently I slept through the first alarm, and jolted awake on hearing the more incessant buzz from the phone. I jumped out of bed and it wasn’t until halfway to the bathroom I realized I was naked. I wouldn’t say massive, as in cartoonish in any way, but my dick and balls were noticeably bigger than before. It took a few seconds for my still startled brain to put the pieces together. The jockstrap had disappeared and somehow affected the body. It hadn’t replaced any body parts, I could still recognize my dick, but it was for sure altered. Suddenly $100 felt like way too little money. I didn’t even put any pants on as I typed in the URL from the letter. Jock Express step #2 for $100 and express delivery for another $25. Annoyingly no option to order all four remaining steps as a package. I just wanted to have them all in my house as soon as possible.

By the time I had entered all my details, checked all the boxes, and clicked the final webshop button I was rocking a massive hard-on. The biggest one in my life so far, by far. I didn’t care right then if I would come late or call in sick, I just knew that I had to take my pre-cum leaking enhancement for a test drive, and slowly started to move my hand up and down the shaft. It felt better than ever, and lasted longer than I have ever before. I’m not really sure how long, because I zoned out a bit while wanking, and then exploded with an epic load of cum. I managed to tilt the chair back and catch it all on my body, but then I felt really spent and dozed off, only to be brought back with a text message from my boss. Sick day it is, I decided.

A more apt description would be a lewd day. I just cycled between laptop porn, wanking and showers, and combinations thereof. I loved the difference it made when wearing underwear. Even when flaccid you could tell here was action waiting, not just only wearing underwear, but while wearing jeans too. I took photos so I had progress photos to compare with.

The next day was a strange one. I worked all day in the glow of someone with confidence, as if somehow I had done some achievement. I kind of surprised myself with how much of a difference it made when dealing with the pileup of emails from yesterday. Big dick energy. I could make decisions so much faster than I was used to. I don’t know if I really had more confidence, or just didn’t care as much. I was for sure giddy with anticipation of what was yet to come by overnight delivery. I forced myself to stay until official end of office hours and then bolted and drove straight home.

Thank God there was a DHL box in my mailbox, or I don’t know what I would have done. I opened it on my way in, and it’s contents were similar to the first one. A folded letter and some folded cloth. Without opening the letter I unfolded the cloth, which turned out to be a plain, sleeveless, white cotton T-shirt. Had there been someone to high five, I would have done so. I’m not fat, but there is a bit of flabbiness I would love to get rid of, so I couldn’t wait for this part. I felt anticipation in my stomach and something else in my pants. I hadn’t had a wank since this morning.

Evening couldn’t come soon enough. The letter said basically the same as the last one. A new URL for the $400 Jock Express #3, which I immediately ordered, again with overnight shipping. Not really sure what to kill time with, I figured a jock would watch sport, so I just randomly put some football on. I hadn’t really paid any attention to sports before, so I wasn’t sure about who was who, what the series looked like, or really what happened on the field besides the obvious. I ended up masturbating to the football, which in my opinion made it better. By 9:30 I decided to drink a few glasses of water, strip, put on the sleeveless T-shirt, and go to bed. I tossed and turned in anticipation for quite a while. The T-shirt had a very loose fit, and the big holes for the arms made it even more mobile, though it was anchored by the crew neck. Finally at some point I managed to fall asleep.

I woke up before the alarm. It was dark enough that I knew I hadn’t slept through them all. Instead of getting up or turning on the light, I just slowly moved my hand to my chest under the sheet. My chest was about the same size, but felt firmer, I imagined. But more importantly I was naked and the shirt was gone. I moved my hand down and couldn’t contain my joy when I started to feel the faint square of abs. I jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom to have a look in the mirror. The effect was better than I thought from just touch. My torso not only looked fit as a model, with abs and V and all, but younger and with better skin. Perhaps an illusion, but it almost looked like my dick was bigger as well.

Having woken up early, after a wank and a shower, I was one of the first in at the office and quickly got ahead on my tasks for the day. I still had the anticipation I felt yesterday, but today it was more like I knew what to expect. It wasn’t just a one-off or a fluke, this was legit and it was happening. As I started early I decided to flex out early and rush back home. I spent the drive home fantasizing about different types of clothing. I was kind of wishing for those sleeves they use in basket, to amp up my arms, but there might be some scientific reason why they changed the body parts in a specific order. Who was I kidding? This wasn’t science. This was magic.

I ripped open the familiar package as soon as I was inside the front door. This time it was white under armour legging of some sort, ending just below the knees. I was considering strip down fully naked and put on the leggings right then and there, and wear them until it was time to go to bed, but decided against it. Even though the descriptions were vague and didn’t really say you couldn’t do that, I didn’t want to risk fucking up the process. Instead I found some underwear in the same color as the jockstrap and took a pair of scissors to an old white T-shirt to make it look like the one I put on yesterday. Then I put on those, and nothing but, and sat myself in front of the TV, determined to actually try to follow the game this time, whichever game I happened to see.

It might be I imagined it, perhaps because I’ve never really seen myself in a sleeveless T-shirt before, but it looked to me like my arms were a bit more defined than yesterday. I realized that I had just assumed only the parts under the clothes are affected, but that’s just something I made up. It could be that it just primarily acts under the clothes, or perhaps it was just a coincidence and the clothes really could change anything. In the end I let it go. It didn’t matter, I couldn’t prove it either way, and I couldn’t watch a game, have deep thoughts and masturbate all at the same time anyway. I was so into it I almost forgot to order the next package. A steep $1000 for whatever the next item was, but so far it was fucking worth it.

I really liked how I looked in the 3/4 leggings or whatever the fuck they are called. Just imagining how much better I would look the morning after made me go to bed with a big boner, despite being thoroughly wanked. I tried to calm myself by thinking of the last game I watched, and not give Jock Express a thought, and it kind of worked. I know I fell asleep pretty quickly and dreamt of football until the alarm woke me up.

“Fuck yeah!” was the first I could think when I saw myself. The thighs were about as large as before, but the line going down them made it obvious they were muscles and not jiggle matter. It even felt different just standing. I’m almost positive my dick had grown even more. Who the hell wouldn’t dish out $400 or whatever for this shit?

While the day started great it quickly became frustrating with all the corporate bullshit. I knew how to do my job. There were just so many fucking rules in the way of doing it in the best way. Perhaps the anticipation of the second to last package made me be in a bad mood. Whatever. I bolted as soon as I could, cranked up the volume in the car, trying to not think of anything until I got home. I almost punched something when I opened the mailbox and didn’t find an envelope. Instead it was just a note about DHL attempted to deliver while I wasn’t home. I could either call them to deliver tomorrow or drive to a pickup point. Like fuck I would wait another full fucking day.

I was furious when I got back into the car, blasting music as loud as I could, but I quickly calmed down. Perhaps this was a good thing? It might be a box with shoulder pads from football or hockey or lacrosse or whatever the fuck else looks hot. You know what else is hot? Michael at the DHL pickup point. I mean, I’m not homo or anything, I’m just saying he was a good looking dude.

The packet he gave me was a bit disappointing though. No way it could contain anything as large as shoulder pads. I didn’t want to fuck with my mojo, so I kept the same routine as before and didn’t open it until back home. Fucking cleats and socks. Another fucking leg day. And they smelled bad too, like distilled vinegar or some shit. As I entered the URL from the letter on my phone I got two more shocks. The price of the last package was ten thousand fucking dollars! And even worse, the delivery wouldn’t arrive until Monday. Two fucking days away. “This is bullshit” I shouted at nobody and threw the empty cardboard box into the wall to no damage to either.

I was still furious and went straight to the fridge, pulled out a cold can of beer, opened it, and downed half of it. It felt better, but I was still upset on the world in general. I looked at the phone screen again. $10k is a fuckton of money. There wasn’t a rush to buy it right now either, if they didn’t do overnight delivery during weekends. I emptied the can and crushed it against the countertop. It hurt my hand, which just added to my anger for being such a weakling. I pulled the rest of the six-pack out of the fridge and threw it in the living room couch on my way to the bedroom. I needed to get out of these stuffy office clothes and cool down with a cold one, or four.

I ripped off the tie and started to unbutton the shirt on my way into the bedroom, and once there opened the door to my wardrobe. I felt like a girl, not knowing what to wear. I hated everything my eyes fell on, and I hated feeling like that. I bunched the shirt into a ball and threw it into a corner, together with the tie. I climbed out of the pants as quickly as I could and threw them there as well. Then I stopped myself.

Everything I saw I really liked, I realized. The pecs, the abs, the thighs, and the generous bulge in the boxer briefs.I yanked off my socks and more deliberately lowered my boxers to let the dick and balls loose. I knew what I wanted from this junk selection of clothes, and opened a drawer with my athletic clothes and pulled out a pair of grey sweatpants. It was Friday and my dick and balls deserved some freedom, I thought, as I put on the sweats without any underwear. I picked up the sleeveless T-shirt from the floor by the bed and put that on as well. I felt so much better. A few beers, whatever game was on, and some more wanking, and perhaps this could turn into a good evening after all.

After two more beers, cum stains on sweatpants, T-shirt and the couch, and fuck knows how many games I zapped through I couldn’t wait any longer. Whatever bullshit the cleats and sock did, the sooner it was over with, the sooner I could move on with the final package. $10k was still a lot, but if I sold all shares I could buy it, keeping both house and car.

The socks went almost up to the knees, but weren’t any real soccer socks or anything like that. The looked more like something someone might have to the gym, or something a skater would wear. Skater was perhaps right, because they smelled like that vinegary acidic smell of really sweaty skater shoes. The socks were white with a wide black band around it near the top, and were a bit off-white on contact surfaces around the foot, as if they had been used in black shoes by someone. As if I would fucking care. I pulled up both legs of the sweats over the knees and put on both socks, pulling them as high as possible. The cleats were black and a bit banged up, but fit perfectly on my feet. I didn’t even remember having given out my shoe size. I was unsure how tight to tie them, so I went with comfortable without being loose.

It felt weird walking with them, like the shoes were pushing your forward. Not at all like my much flatter leather shoes. Somehow my test walking ended up by the fridge, so I grabbed another six-pack and returned to the couch for some more ESPN or whatever.

I had no idea what sport it was on the screen, but glancing out the window I could see that it wasn’t evening anymore. I must have fallen asleep, I realized, but I felt way better than I ought to, given the pile of crushed beer cans around me. I walked to the toilet to have a piss, and it wasn’t until I lowered the front of my sweatpants to grab my morning semi-stiff snake I realized I was barefoot. I was pissing for probably a good minute, aiming down with one hand. Holy fuck so much I’ve kept in while sleeping. I was pretty sure I had cleats and socks on when I fell asleep. I did a few bounces on the balls of the feet. It felt fucking great, and shook loose the last drops of piss from my dick. I dropped it back into the sweatpants, and broke into a smile from how fucking huge of a tent it made, despite being just a semi. I did a few more jumps, looking at how the flagpole in my front swung up and down. I really didn’t deserve to feel this great after yesterday, but I’d fucking take it. I felt so full of energy I felt I could do anything. I wanted to run just to see how it would feel.

I dashed into my bedroom and emptied the rest of the athletic clothes drawer on the floor. Some T-shirts, a pair of basket shorts, white socks and wiped down indoor and outdoor shoes. All of it was underwhelming, outright disappointing. And why the fuck did I keep the shoes here and not by the door? I grabbed the outdoor shoes and without bothering with socks started to mash my foot into it. It was clearly at least one size too small, perhaps several. Who the fucks know how shoe sizes work. I threw both shoes into the wall above my pile of office clothes. Fucking hell. Why do all days start out great and then go downhill so fast, I wondered.

I grabbed a pair of flip flops, the car keys, and pulled the credit card out of the wallet and walked out to the car. The car stereo startled me when I turned the ignition key, as it blared out some hip hop at max volume. I reached to turn it down, but changed my mind. It felt like my mood, as I was driving to my closest mall almost below speed limit. There wasn’t much traffic out anyway on a Saturday morning. As I turned into the almost empty parking lot in front of the mall I realized the fucking God damn shit mall would open for another 40-something fucking minutes. I wished I could turn up the music louder.

As I looked down on the cum stains on my shirt and tenting sweats I decided why the fuck not, and started to beat off in sync with the music.

40-something fucking minutes later I entered the sporting goods store in the mall. Johnson’s or Dick’s or Willy’s or whatever, I don’t care. I picked up some proper compression clothes, like the leggings I had earlier with a matching top. I got myself some outdoor Nike’s, a few proper tanks, some jocks, boxer shorts and socks, new flip flops, and a snapback cap. On the way to the cashier I decided to pick up a wooden baseball bat and a regulation size football as well. Back in the car I ripped off all the stickers and shit and put on something I could run in. The sneakers, jockstrap and shorts, a tank top, and the snapback. I left the car and just ran.

It was a revelation. The first time I tasted ice cream or coca cola, or the first time I discovered I could do something else with my dick besides peeing and hitting it too hard. I felt like a good damn terminator. Like as long as I kept the pace below sprinting I could run for hours. Trickles of sweat running down my face, my arms, my back, wetting the fabric of my clothes where it could, cooling the skin with the breeze my motion generated where it couldn’t. I have no fucking idea how long I actually run. When I finally ended up back in the car I was steaming and real fucking hungry.

I felt like a shower was in order, but I was too hungry to do that first. I went by Five Guys and had a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a peanut butter milkshake. As I started eating I realized I wasn’t anywhere near tired. It was probably enough running for today, but I wanted to do more. Halfway through the meal I decided I would visit the gym we had a company membership at. I had only been there a few times since the introduction walkthrough. I wasn’t even sure I had the card in my wallet anymore, or if it was in the bowl of stuff in the kitchen.

I made a quick stop at home, unloaded my car, found the card, and set off to the Pacific Wellness Center. The dude in the lobby had a pissy attitude and asked me if I was wearing indoor shoes. I asked him what they looked like, and he let me in. Such a shame, because he was kind of good looking.

Inside the gym the results were mixed. Squats, lunges, planking, and abductor machine all went excellent. It was fun, even. But everything involving arms went miserably. I could only lift a pathetic load, and after a few reps I would be tired. I even embarrassed myself in front of two massive gym buddies. One of them had amazing arms. You could see how strong they were even when he wasn’t lifting, but fuck me what beautiful ‘ceps when loaded. And tanned too. It was lucky I had the jockstrap on, because that body was smoking hot.

I could only stand a few more failures after that and then sped back home, still with hip hop at max, in a mix of emotions. I got naked on the way to the bathroom, and there I spent perhaps an hour in the shower, getting the grime and sweat off me, and wanking twice, thinking of the arms of the hot dude. As I dried myself on a towel I knew I had to buy the last package. Ten fucking thousand fucking dollars. I had to use the laptop to access my bank, and once I had put in the sell order for my stock portfolio I saw the pornhub tabs I hadn’t looked at since Wednesday.

The big-busted bimbos I had wanked my way through the Wednesday suddenly didn’t seem as interesting. I clicked around a bit until I found a muscle stud fucking a Latino girl. How quickly the taste can change, but except for pathetic arms, I’m was now the muscle stud. I quickly entered the URL from the Jock Express #4 box and ordered the last package. The delivery date was still Monday, so come Tuesday the muscle stud would be me. Only one fucking week.

Since I was out of beer I threw on my old shorts and a T-shirt, and had a walk to my nearest convenience store and bought one six-pack for each hand. I was feeling a bit stiff from the training, but it was much better than it ought to be.

As I opened the door back at home the warm smell of gym clothes, sweat, and feet hit me. I did the responsible thing and threw everything in the washing machine, opened a beer, and started to watch whatever was on.

Sunday was just a boring-ass filler day. I woke up at a decent time, had a long run. I passed through the park, but didn’t engage with any of the groups playing football or beach volley there. I could wait two more days to get my arms sorted. I did some cleaning up and domestic shit back home. Then I went to the gym again, but this time I pretended it was leg day, so I didn’t have to embarrass myself. After dinner I had an evening jog as well, and only had a few beers before bedtime.

Same thing on Monday. Woke up pretty early and went for a long run. When I was almost back home I got a text message from my boss, saying we needed to talk about my performance over the last few days. My answer “Suck my balls” probably summed up the conversation much better than any in-person meeting. I found that the best way to find porn with muscle studs in them was to search in the gay section. Just because you like to watch big arms and strong backs doesn’t make you homo. I jacked off to the videos until it was time to eat lunch. By 2 pm I was climbing on the fucking walls in anticipation, and every minute felt like too long. Perhaps it wouldn’t arrive today at all? I heard the mailman at 2:18 and rushed out wearing only shorts and snapback.

The mailbox was stuffed full with a big, soft envelope. I tore it open on my way back inside, kicked the door shut, and emptied the contents on my kitchen table. A big black something fell out, as well as something small that rattled across the table. Ignoring the letters, as usual, I unfolded the cloth. It was a big, black hoodie in sweatshirt material, with the print “STRONG” on the front. Finally arms! I picked up the small plastic box that almost fell off the table and opened it. It contained some sort of advanced mouthguard mad in blue, white, and transparent plastic of different hardness and flex. The kind that football players use.

Not knowing what to do next, I went to the gym and spent a few hours just randomly doing low weight, high rep stuff. I was trying to catch a glimpse of everyone else who worked out to see what their arms and legs looked like. Once I felt it was too obvious I wasn’t doing anything serious I drove home, but instead of going inside I started to walk and walked for hours just looking. It felt good just to be in motion. I didn’t return back until the sun started to set, and it was almost fully dark when I walked through the door.

I decided to just go ahead with the last piece of transformation. I stepped out of my sneakers and pulled off my damp socks. It didn’t smell of strawberries. I pulled off the T-shirt and stepped out of the basket shorts, but kept the compression shorts on. I grabbed the hoodie from the table and put it over my head. Perhaps it was me, but it smelled of musky sweat inside while I put it on. I poured myself a big glass of water and downed it.

I walked with the small plastic box to the bathroom and had a look in the mirror. I didn’t really look that different. The big hoodie hid my newly athletic front. The legs and feet looked strong, but who ever notices that? My big bulge in the compression pants was however a change from the past week that couldn’t easily be hidden. I opened the box and put the mouthguard into my mouth. It fit snugly and didn’t change my appearance much either. Not knowing what to do with the hoodie I put it up over my head and pulled it tighter with the drawstrings so all but my face was gone. Then I turned off all the lights and went to bed.

It was still dark when I woke up. Instantly I knew it had worked, because I couldn’t feel the mouthguard in my mouth, though it felt different. As if the ghost of the mouthguard was still there, prying my mouth open. I felt some sort of pressure on my head, as if I was wearing a hat or a beanie or something. I was about to feel my head when I realized moving my arm felt different. Not wanting to fuck around any longer I went straight to the bathroom again to have a look in the mirror. I stared at my reflection with open mouth. The difference was breathtaking.

First of all I wasn’t wearing any top, so my abs and pecs were on full display, but they were also bigger than before. Everything was bigger. My shoulders were much bigger, my entire upper body looked wider than before, and everything about the arms were huge. My face was still my face, but there were lots of small changes. “Fucking dope” I said with a much deeper voice than what I had before. I smiled a smirk and flexed the arms in different poses. I couldn't wait to show up at the gym doing an arm day. I just needed to have another shower. My dick needed service, and I felt sluggish, as if I hadn't really wakened up yet.

187 notes · View notes

snowdice · 3 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 60]

Okay. Not sure how long I’ll go today, but let’s work on this for a bit. Just gotta finish this side quest and then we can get back to the plot. ;)

Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

“And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

“Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

“Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

“We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

“Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

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“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

“Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

“Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

“Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

50234

Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

“Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

#proofread stories #not writing

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thetaylorfiles · 4 years

Note

To your anon asking about TTB promises. She promised no second wedding, no male pronouns or male love interests on Lover, a coming out, Karlie leaving in August, no Josh at holidays, no way they go to awards, absolutely would she not include him in her documentary because it woul be about coming out. The list is rather long. The truth is people left over stopped calling her out on always being wrong. And every month for the last 2 years dont worry, its almost over the girls are fine.

Wow. Great memory.

Let’s list all of TTBs lies, promises and predictions that never came true. For posterity.

TTB promised there would be:

[[MORE]]

1. No Joshlie wedding. At all. And no second Joshlie wedding. (Both happened!)

- in fact the plan, according to TTB was: to gently introduce Kaylor to the public.

- announce engagement > call off engagement > have Taylor be seen providing emotional support to a heartbroken Karlie > after a while, explain that spending time together amid this upset made them realize they were more than just friends!

Oops. Never happened.

2. No male pronouns on Lover (several songs with male pronouns!)

3. No male love interests on Lover (clearly a male interest in Lover. And no, London Boy isn’t satire. It’s tongue in cheek)

4. Karlie being “free” in August each and every year. (and many, many more times)

5. No Josh at holidays.

(Yet somehow they seem to be together for thanksgiving and NYE and several Jewish holidays every single year.)

6. Joe and Taylor not attending awards shows together (so far they’ve attended: Golden Globes, Cats premiere, and NME awards)

7. Joe not being included in the documentary (Taylor literally runs into his arms backstage)

8. The documentary would be about Taylor coming out

I remember (and edited to add other peoples recollections)

9. Taylor was supposed to come out after Rep tour was over.

10. Taylor was supposed to come out the day she announced her new single “ME!” In fact, the announcement was meant to be her coming out, but instead was her new single.

11. Joe would be gone before Rep Tour

12. Joe would be gone after Rep Tour.

13. Joe would be gone before Lover Promo

14. Joe would be gone after Lover release.

15. Karlie would be free from Josh literally too many times to count. She always says that the contract is up in August. Then she says Karlie re-ups.

16. Taylor was going to come out on the last day of Pride month but scrapped those plans and instead released her statement about Scooter and Scott. That the masters changed everything so she couldn’t come out.

Now, had she intended to come out, and changed her mind that very last day upon learning of the master sales, she would’ve had to:

- add 4 new songs about a male

- chang all pronouns on lover from “her” to “him”

- remanufacturing every copy (how many DNAs did that need)

- create and chang diary entries

- all this would’ve had to be done whiles Taylor spent the first week of July with her friends on vacation. And while Karlie was on a yacht with Scooter, posting several instagrams documenting it.

- Then she went straight into filming ‘Lover’ video with a man. All this in a matter of a week or two, while on vacation, right before Lover came out. (Thanks to the anon for help!)

17. She claimed Karlie never followed Joe, when in fact, she did after K’s Rep concert. A week later, she unfollowed him. Also her sisters and Josh unfollowed Taylor in that same time frame.

18. She claims that when a beard wears blue, a breakup will occur and Taylor will be free of her contract. That Taylor plans it this way. TTB has said the inevitable breakup is going to happen when Joe wears blue numerous times yet this has never come to fruition.

19. Any time there is an article about Joshlie or Joe and Taylor, ttb claims its ALWAYS “seeding” a breakup. Yet, the breakup never, ever comes. (And no one in entertainment uses the phrase “seeding”. That’s a pure conspiracy theorist term. Like “crisis actor”).

20. She once promised a nervous anon that Josh and Karlie would never actually marry. They’d only be faux engaged to make it all seem real.

21. Claimed that Karlie and Josh didn’t go to New Zealand together over the New Year. Said Josh went alone and Karlie only flew in one day to take all the pics with him- in multiple clothing changes- to get all the pics necessary for the “stunt”. Even though everyone outside of Kaylorland already believes they’re a married couple and the “stunt” got zero publicity.

22. TTB claimed many times no beard would ever attend an important event or red carpet with Taylor. Then Joe went to the Golden Globes with her, then the Cats premiere, and then the NME awards. Oops! Wrong each and every time.

23. When Joe and Taylor vacationed in the Turks and Caicos TTB claimed Joe was flown in for a quick photoshoot and flown right back out. Except the next day, he was still there and there were new pictures.

24. Claimed for MONTHS after the Joshlie wedding that it was a “photoshoot”, not a wedding. That it would soon show up in Vogue. Then it was Vogue Brazil. (The wedding was never in a magazine)

25. She also claimed it was all a giant ad for Dior. The photoshoot would be one big advertisement for Dior. (The wedding was never an ad anywhere for Dior)

26. After several Vogue magazines came and went after, TTB claimed that Josh was having the article and photoshoot put on hold so that they could release it at a time that Trump made a big gaffe and Josh would need good press. The idea being that if Trump messes up, this somehow reflects badly on Josh, though it never has.

27. TTB and Kaylors claim that the reason why Karlie and Taylor stopped hanging out in public was so as not to tarnish Taylor’s reputation by being associated with Trump. Yet, Kelle went backstage at Rep after Trump was elected.

Anyone who knows about magazines or has seen the documentary The September Issue knows that the magazine layout is planned months in advance and articles and photo shoots are put in in a timely manner. Someone like Josh would have no bearing on getting to hold it back. (The wedding never showed up in any magazine and Trump made gaffes constantly).

28. TTB also claimed that they were no longer being seen in public anymore so that the public would start to ask and wonder why they weren’t “friends” anymore. Which would “seed” a coming out story.

29. Ttb claims she’ll have definitive proof this Monday, 9/7/20/, in the form of “tea” she’s been dangling in front of her followers for months now, that will prove the existence of Kaylor.

And she posted a submission that proved absolutely nothing! Just a screenshot of Karlies insta story from May that shows the reflection of one open white umbrella and one closed white umbrella. Apparently Taylor has two white umbrella near her pool in Beverly Hills. Ttb believes this is definitive proof that Karlie and Taykor have been together in LA for months.

This was wholly underwhelming and easily disputable. Taylor’s jet has been in Utah, with Joe posting a few pics of him hiking there. Her jet has also been in RI. Then the jet went to England. While the jet doesn’t prove Taylor wasn’t in BH the whole time, it sure does make it much more likely than a reflection in glass of an umbrella.

30 TTB claims that josh posted an Instagram on 9/3 of a sunset to indicate the sun setting on his relationship with Karlie. A message sent to Kaylors. No divorce as of yet!

31. Going along with the above, TTB also claimed that she expects Joshlie to announce their divorce on 9/4/20 because it’s the slowest in the news cycle. A Friday afternoon before a holiday weekend. Yet, no divorce news and Trump calling fallen soldiers “lovers and suckers” is dominating the headlines.

32. Prior to the Kushner biography being released TTB predicted/promised that it would mention Josh’s homosexual proclivities in some way: the bearding or Mikey. And at the very least, it would paint him to be the giant criminal that she claims he is.

Instead it did nothing of the sort. It only talked about how strong his love for Karlie was. That despite his parents being unkind and unaccepting to her for several years, he stuck it out with her. It also addressed her conversion to Judaism.

33. Ttb likes to claim that Karlie never converted to Judaism. She says that because Karlie has never spoken the exact words “I converted” that it means she hasn’t. Despite the fact that many Jewish people have told her that when Karlie told Andy Cohen that she “joined the tribe” that, was, in fact, how Jewish people say they converted.

Karlie has also spoken at length in interviews and her own musings about her conversion. Ttb still refutes this and sometimes will post anons who write in questionable and anti Semitic references.

34. There was a period of time where TTB claimed that Josh needed Karlie as a beard in order to get an inheritance from an old aunt of his. This aunt stipulated in their will that he MUST be married to a woman in order to collect the money. Shockingly (to no one) TTB started claiming this right after josh and Karlie got married.

A few months later, the aunt and the inheritance disappeared never to be spoken of again. Which was absurd to begin with considering Josh is reportedly worth $800 million. Which could be off considerably, but even if it is? Even if he’s only worth $100 million? Yeah, he’s good. He doesn’t need an aunts inheritance.

35. These days (September of 2020) TTB is claiming that Karlie is staying with Josh in the contact for bearding willingly. This is a drastic change of narrative from years past when she claimed he was essentially blackmailing her to stay. For the Aunt inheritance, for not telling the world her and Taylor’s secrets, etc.

**** this hasn’t been updated in a few months. It’s now Dec. 1st. I’ll do my best to fill in a couple more below soon. There’s been a handful or two of lies that need to be recorded.****

36. People Mag announces that sources close to Karlie say she’s pregnant with Josh’s kid. Ttb refuses to believe it until Karlie herself confirms it, though in the past she has specifically stated that People is the one mag you can trust as publicists use it as a vehicle to get the truth out about their client.

36. Ttb stated emphatically and multiple times that IF Karlie is pregnant it CANNOT be a Kaylor baby because it would not tarnished by having a Kushner last name and being tied to that “organized crime” family. Nope. Taylor is in no way involved.

And now that Karlie has confirmed the pregnancy, what do uou know? Ttb conveniently changes her time, forgets all she’s said in the past and seems to be firmly on the “oh, it’s totally a Karlie/Tayklor baby. I thought so all along”.

Now, Karlie is there willingly. And when an anon asked whyC her answer was “it’s all part of the narrative.” As if that’s a sufficient answer.

37. TTB said Joe and Taylor’s career paths would never intertwine.

And now they’ve written 5 songs together. One on which he played the piano too.

There’s a lot more especially about Karlies pregnancy but I don’t have the time or energy to fill it in right now. Back soon to do it.

Anyone else remember anything specific? Let’s come up with a comprehensive list.

#taytaysbeard #ttb #ttbs lies #taytaysbeards lies #pinned post

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