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epicbuddieficrecs · 5 months ago

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Weekly Recap | February 3rd-9th 2025

Less than a month until 9-1-1 is back on our screens babyyyyy! how's everyone doing after that kiss hug in the rain scene???

Complete

You And I Walk A Fragile Line (I Have Known It All This Time) by pinkpeachtea (Hug In The Rain Spec | 1,3K | Teen): "Eddie?" Buck asked, voice breaking on the name as he noticed the car door opening again, staying open– probably getting the entire interior wet. And it was hard to see- especially through the rain- but if Buck wasn't just hallucinating, it'd actually look like… He was walking right towards him. Careful at first, slowly, until his steps got quicker– jogging that turned into running. Buck could feel his feet again, though he had no control over them as he found himself walking towards Eddie, meeting him not quite halfway when he came to a halt and– "Why did you stop?"

lull of you by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Getting Together | 1,7K | Teen): For as long as Buck can remember, Eddie’s ability to express himself has left him in awe—the way that, although it sometimes takes a minute for him to get there, whenever he’s ready, he’ll rip his heart out of his own chest and present it on a silver platter. With a thumb pressed to Buck’s pulse point—or both—and deep, warm, earnest eyes. Buck has never been like that—he goes all out before he’s even sure what he feels; he’s dramatic and emotional, and clingy, and his emotions often run his actions miles ahead of his brain. (Not that he hasn’t come to terms with that by now—he is who he is, and he’s learned to appreciate it.) The interesting thing is, though—despite his regular habit of rushing things to beat his tendency to overthink in a lap around the racetrack—for once, tonight, his brain feels… quiet. Calm.

& such by colonoscopys/ @colonoscopys (87K | Teen): prompts and spec fics and codas and all the works jumbled mumbled into one place.

22. reunions (Eddie back from Texas | 2K): Buck kind of—avoids Eddie when he gets back. He knows he shouldn’t. The thing is, his heart still feels so bruised. It still feels like it’s lying there on the road, soaking up the gravel and the cement and the area just under Eddie’s tires, and he’s—tired. He’s tired. He just wants a second, to recuperate, before he goes back out there and pretends like everything is okay.

No Take Backs by Maximoff_Wanda (Friends to Fiances | 2K | Not Rated): “Marry me,” he blurted out, causing the other man to freeze and turn to stare at him. “What?” Eddie slowly lowered himself down on one knee, keeping eye contact with Buck, his blue eyes widening as he watched Eddie sink to the ground. Somewhere in the background, he hears a woman squealing as she notices what’s happening. Eddie clears his throat, grabbing one of Buck’s hands as a crowd starts to form around them. “Buck... Evan. There is nothing more that I want than to spend the rest of my life getting pretzels with you at the zoo listening to your endless fun animal facts while you buy our son sugary confections that he doesn’t need just because it makes him happy... So will you please marry me?”

When I see you again by Maximoff_Wanda (Hug In The Rain Spec | 2K | General): Buck sighed as the sky opened up and a drizzle of rain began to pour over them as they walked out of the Diaz house toward Eddie’s truck. Of course, it had to rain the day the love of his life left for Texas. Now that he’s thinking about it, Buck realized it was always raining when Buck and Eddie lose each other.

i knew it when you looked my way (that i'd be begging you to stay) by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (Hug In The Rain Spec | 2K | General): When Eddie pulls Buck in, Buck melts, wrapping one arm over his shoulder and the other under his arm, palms wide to cling to as much of Eddie as he can hold. Buck’s chin settles in the crook of Eddie’s neck and he breathes in deeply, trying to commit to memory the blurred together scent of Eddie’s deodorant and shampoo and the petrichor hanging in the air. “I miss you already,” Eddie says into Buck’s ear, stubble scraping against Buck’s cheek as his mouth moves. With one last squeeze Eddie pulls away, clapping Buck just a little too hard on the shoulder. “I should probably get on the road,” Eddie says, stepping away. “Drive safe,” Buck replies, stepping after him. Eddie slides into the driver’s seat and shuts the door, drops the bag of scones into the seat next to him. He resolutely doesn’t look into the rearview mirror as he adjusts it.

But What A Ghostly Scene by icewhisper (S4, Coma Dream | 3K | Teen): Eddie had always thought if he came close to death, it’d be Shannon or his abuelo he saw who pushed him to go home – to go back to Christopher – but when a sniper nearly killed him, it was a little boy he dreamed of instead. Nearly two years later, he realizes who that little boy was.

with a little water and a little bit of sunlight by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (S8E8: Wannabes | 4K | Teen): “You flipped the tablet.” “Did I?” Lord only knows how he carried out an emotional affair as long as he did if this is how good he is at lying. Buck clearly has come to some—wrong—conclusion, given the way he smirks and cocks his head. “What're you looking at, Eddie?” His tone is a little flirty, a little suggestive, and if Eddie were any less close to a panic attack he'd probably think the gulf between what Buck assumes he'd been doing and what he was actually looking at was very funny. — The one where it's not Homes.com but it's also not porn on the iPad.

let's go get the shit kicked out of us by love by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Getting Together | 4K | Teen): “Are you Love Actuallying me?” Eddie looks about as surprised that those are the words coming out of his mouth as Buck is to hear them. “Oh my god, what?” “Love Actually. That freaky kid who’s like thirty now but still looks like a ten year old. Runs through an airport, gets himself put on a no-fly list for love? Are you Love Actuallying me?” “For fuck’s sake, has everyone seen that movie but me?” Buck has to laugh, it’s absurd. This whole thing is absurd. He wants to rip his hair out. He also, as of thirty minutes or maybe six years ago, wants to rip Eddie’s shirt off, but that’s not his main focus at the moment.

Will you still be with me (when the magic’s all run out?) by scarmaddiewrites (Witch Buck AU | 5K | Not Rated): Buck is a witch and in love with Eddie…that really it.

Cupid, Q-Words, and Cursed Shifts by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Post-S8A, Valentine's Day | 5K | Teen): A slow shift at the firehouse gets derailed when someone accidentally says the Q-word, Eddie pines over Buck, and the new Probie panics about Valentine's Day.

I’ll tell them put me back in it (and I would do it again) by paleredheadinascifi (Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Eddiaz is listening to the slowburn friends to lovers playlist. Eddiaz listened to the POV you’re falling in love with your best friend playlist. Eddiaz listened to the sad gay yearning hours playlist. Eddiaz listened to the he was my best friend and that was the worst part playlist. Or, Eddie doesn't know how to make his listening history private. Buck doesn't know what to do with the words in front of his eyes. Chris cannot believe he has to deal with either of them.

Eddie Diaz's Emotional Support Group Chat by scarmaddiewrites (Chat fic, Post-S8E8: Wannabes | 6K | Teen): Eddie makes a group chat to help him with his plan to woo Buck… It goes about as well as you think it would.

promise what you will, something good for me by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Fake Relationship, Getting Together | 6K | Teen): Eddie forms a one-sided beef with a woman claiming to be psychic and ropes Buck into a fake dating scheme to try and prove all her predictions wrong.

your slightest look easily will unclose me by teaspoonmoon/ @young-waverer (S8E6: Confessions, PWP | 7K | Explicit): Eddie takes in a deep breath and reaches out and sets his hand on Buck’s knee, fingers wrapping around his lower thigh, pinky brushing his inseam. “Hey. If you were my first, you’d be my last.” The air is still between them and feels charged in a way it wasn’t a moment ago. Careful not to dislodge Eddie’s hand, Buck stretches his arm out to grab the tequila. Watching Eddie out of the corner of his eye, he knocks back another half shot. Eddie doesn’t retract his hand, and the heat of it is starting to seep through the denim of Buck’s jeans. “Sure.” Buck sounds weary. “That’s easy for you to say, when it’s—when it’s just hypothetical.” “What if…” Eddie’s grip on Buck tightens marginally. “What if it wasn’t a hypothetical?”

We're Overdue for a Revival by BespectacledBunny (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Chris coming back from Texas, Marriage of Convenience | 60K | Mature): “If I had,” Chris lingers on the words, watching Eddie intently through the screen, “If I had conditions?” Eddie feels his stomach knot up. It’s the first time Chris has ever alluded to a willingness to come home. Usually he just shoots Eddie down with a flat “I know” before hurrying off the call. Eddie Diaz will be damned before he lets this chance slip through his hands. “Anything,” his voice rings with desperation in his own ears, “Whatever you need to feel ready to come home. If I can make it happen, I will.” Chris eyes him, young face serious as a judge presiding over trial. Finally, Chris opens his mouth and says something so earth shattering as to crack the foundations of his father’s mind. “Marry Buck,” Chris says firmly.

WIP

🔥 there is no roadby littleghost/ @ghostlandtoo (Post-S8A, Eddie moves to Texas | 5/6 | 77K | Explicit): Years ago, almost a full decade, Shannon had asked him to move and Eddie refused because he was trying to build a life for himself again. Eddie knows if he asks Buck, he’ll get that same refusal. Worse, Buck could say yes and Eddie would be uprooting Buck from the very life he built for himself. He doesn’t ask, and Buck doesn’t offer, and they pack up Eddie Diaz’s life in Los Angeles into cardboard boxes. Or: Eddie moves to Texas. Buck buys his house. There’s a love story somewhere in here.

🔥 how come everybody's dancing but you?by showedupatyourparty (Post-S7 Spec, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 4/6 | 45K | Mature): Buck feels guilty. Everyone he loves is going through something painful, difficult, or unexpected right now. And Buck is just…bisexual. It’s great that he’s figured it out, and it’s great that everyone has been so supportive, and Tommy is—Tommy is fine. The sex is good, at least. Consistent. When Buck gets a call from Eddie’s phone late on a Tuesday night in June, it’s cause for concern. * Buck unpacks his own feelings about his recently-discovered bisexuality. Eddie gets adopted by drag queens. They're both just trying their best to be happy.

disappearing into the distance by bucksclipboard/ @endofthedaymp3 (Eddie Comes Back From Texas, Getting Together | 2/4 | 6K | Teen): Eddie wasn’t sure why he and Maddie weren’t close. It was strange, considering her little brother was the most important person in his life. Still, when the door opened, tight hugs were exchanged and cheerful welcome homes rang in his ears. “Does Bobby know? I gotta call Bobby!”, Chimney yelled. “Could you wait a minute?”, Eddie interjected. His eyes darted between them for a moment and landed on Chim, deciding he was his best bet. “Maybe first explain to me why I went to see Buck and his loft was empty. Am I missing something? Did he move?” or: eddie comes back from texas – only to find that buck has left los angeles

🔥 Gentle On My Mind by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon Divergent, Shannon Lives, Buck/Eddie/Shannon | 13/? | 81K | Explicit): In which Shannon lives, tells a lie, and sends hers, Eddie's, and Buck's lives down a very different path.

🔥 Doe & a Drop of Golden Sun by ohstars/ @oh-stars (Canon Divergent, Dad Buck | 12/? | 54K | Teen): Buck doesn't mean to keep secrets from everyone, but he also can't talk about the pain he experiences on a day to day basis. With his nine-year-old living across the country and his custody limited to one monthly visit, Buck doesn't know how to share this part of himself. How does he tell his team of six years that he's had a kid this whole time? How does he tell his sister? How does he tell his Edd-- best friend? It's fine. The universe isn't going to give him a choice in the matter when the worst thing imaginable becomes his reality.

Podfic

🔥 Cowboy With a One Track Mind by Daisies_and_Briars [Podfic] by Rhea314 (Rhea)/ @rhea314 // fic by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Alternate Universe, Different First Meeting | 2.5h-3h | Mature): Spin-off Sequel to Evan Buckley & the Coma-Verse of Madness - Chapter 7 (Land): Grieving and tortured, Evan Buckley has been living alone in Montana in a remote cabin for nearly a decade. After an incident that leaves him missing six months of his life, and suddenly in connection with a group of strangers from Los Angeles, Evan must decide whether to remain in his self-imposed exile, or take a chance at life again.

🔥 [podfic] braver than you believe (loved more than you know) by be_brave13/ @djemsowhat (S8E6: Confessions Spec | 20-30min | Teen): “There's things,” Eddie chokes out, getting the closest he can in a Catholic church to saying what he means to say, words that he’s never said before unable to make an appearance even now. “There's… people… feelings that I— I want to experience differently than I have before, or maybe even for the first time.” “Something… different than what you had with Anna and Marisol?” The priest hedges. “Something, even, different than what you and your wife had?” The words feel insinuating, but the tone stays light and unchallenging. The priest in Eddie’s mind has big hands and curious, soulful eyes and a chunky watch on his wrist, like he could be anyone. A blond man at a bar that Eddie’s eyes keep coming back to, for no reason at all. “Yeah,” Eddie confesses. “Yeah, I’m just starting to think that… maybe there’s more to it all than I thought. Maybe, I can ask for what I thought wasn’t allowed. And I can choose what I want instead of what everyone else thinks I should have.”

🔥[Podfic] Promising Light by cottagepodfics @cottagepodfics / fic by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S8E8: Wannabes, Time Travel | 2-2.5h | Mature): Buck and Eddie fall asleep drunk and in separate rooms after the night of Buck and Tommy's breakup. They wake up seven years later, in an unfamiliar future, only to find out that they're married.

#epic buddie fic rec #buddie fanfiction #buddie fic rec #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buddie

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januaryembrs · 1 year ago

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hi em!! im so late but happy 3k, it’s so deserved you’re an amazing writer! anyway, could i order a tea? i saw this picture: https://pin.it/mv0D4zZ9s and i thought it would be fun if bushy and spencer went to the beach and he was hating it cos of germs and all that, but then he had to wear his sunglasses over his normal glasses and bugsy’s just teasing him—have fun!

description: Bugsy and Spencer have a little downtime at the beach after hiding their relationship for all of one week

length: 1.1k

warning: nothing really, talk of spider mating rituals lol. Picture nonnie was talking about included above!

part of the trouble almost all my life universe

She leaned into his embrace, her back pressing against his warm chest, his skin sticky with a meld of sweat and suncream as they watched the waves rolling into shore.

“I love them all so much,” She sighed, Spencer’s arms wrapping around her waist to lean a book on the soft of her stomach, creasing where she’d pulled on one of his shirts over her bikini, “But I miss things being just us sometimes,”

“Bug, we live together,” Spencer smirked, and she groaned, flicking a glance up at him where he was squinting behind the lenses of his prescription glasses, trying to read his novel whilst looking over her shoulder.

“You know what I meant,” She grumbled, feeling stupid for saying it, only for him to chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into the nooks of her spine. She smiled at the feeling, the grin widening when he kissed the side of her head sweetly.

“I know what you meant,” He agreed, giving her a few more pecks for good measure because as much as he loved teasing her until she was unnaturally shy, he loved the affectionate side of her more. “It’s getting hard hiding it from them,”

“And yet we’re so good at it,” She quipped, the two of them sharing a towel instead of a sunlounger, Spencer’s head being propped up by their bags and jackets, his girlfriend nestled between his legs like they were a single cell amoeba, “We could be like spies, all this undercover work. Seven whole days hiding a relationship from five of the best profiler’s in America, that’s got to be some kind of record.”

He smiled, and lay his book down flat on her stomach, sacrificing his now free hands to wrap all the way around her and squeeze her to him tightly. Because she was right. He loved the every day routine they’d slipped into at home, the natural kisses before bed and before they left the comfort of their four walls, the only space where they could be so openly themselves without prying eyes. He wished he could hold her like this every day, or atleast didn’t have to watch over his shoulder for any of the team watching just a little too closely when they would exchange loving looks.

He loved being able to hold her so unapologetically, loved that she preened and nuzzled into his touch like it was all she’d ever wanted as well. Spencer never had to question himself a single moment he was with her. He knew every shred of love he’d ever felt for her was reciprocated, and the thought of it alone made him warm inside, where they lay comfortably on the sunny beach, only a handful of other patrons enjoying the Friday morning waves.

He felt a headache brewing however from the light glaring in his eyes, and he cursed not listening to her when she reminded him to get his contact lenses ordered, deciding almost immediately that she would always know better than him no matter how high his IQ was or how many doctorates he polished on his shelf. Because she always knew everything when it came to him.

“Too bright?” She asked, as if she’d wormed her way into his head, though it wasn’t difficult to guess from his squinting, the way his nose scrunched in pain as he nodded. And with no more explanation needed, she drew the sunglasses off her own nose to slide over the top of his specs. Pushing them up gently with the tip of her finger, she giggled as she saw his shaded hues looking down at her through four separate windows, and he raised his eyebrows at her. “Better?”

“Oh, yeah, much better. I love looking like some kind of weird Spider man with an insanely hot girlfriend,” He said flatly, and she sniggered, her face upside down when she looked up at him, the crown of her head pressing against his chest.

“I always had a thing for Spider-man,” She said, blinking up at him and Spencer wondered what he ever did to get a girl so pretty she was attractive even upside down and smeared with oily sunscreen, “Don’t know if you’d know this but I have a thing for the tall, genius guys with kind eyes.”

“I didn’t know that,” He said with a wry smile and an adoring gaze, and he couldn’t help but steal a small peck to her lips, knowing he looked a little dumb with his second pair of glasses slipping down his nose. She didn’t seem to care as she kissed him back. She settled back into his chest, picking his book up to flick through what he’d been reading, and she felt him bury his nose into her hair, his hands slipping under her shirt to paw at the free skin of her belly, running his fingertips over it lovingly.

“Technically if you were some sort of Spider/Man hybrid, you’d need to do a mating dance to woo me away from other suitors,” She said mindlessly, and he chuckled, his headache ebbing away with the sun’s rays deflecting off his face.

“Yes, and then you’d more than likely eat me afterwards,” He replied, and she moved a hand away from the book to trace an invisible drawing over his forearm, following the grooves of his veins and nerves where they pulsed against his humid skin, her eyes never leaving the pages of the book.

“Good thing we haven’t mated yet then. I kind of like having you around,” She quipped and she felt him freeze, flicking him a smile so he’d know she was teasing him. Because they hadn’t gone any further than long kisses and soft touches just above the waistline. Hell, seeing her in a bikini was the closest they’d gotten to being naked, and even then she’d covered up with a shirt mere moments after. That little word ‘Yet’ dangled over them, and Spencer found himself smiling back at her, knowing they could take all the time they needed because for now it was just between them. No nosy questions from Garcia and Morgan, no intrigued if not worried glances from Hotch, no knowing smiles from Rossi and Blake. They could just be them. Just Bugsy and Spencer, the way they’d always wanted it to be.

“Not to mention the fact you’d have to give birth to about two-hundred babies that would eat you alive,” He murmured, and she giggled, squeezing his hand in her own.

“God, you know just how to talk dirty to me,” She said, and he chuckled, tugging the cap off his head to slide onto her own because he could feel the heat beating down on her face from here, and knew she would forget to re-apply if he didn’t step in.

Yeah, Spencer was more than happy to have things stay like this for a little while.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #bugspence

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strawberry-bubblef · 11 days ago

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Can you do Trey,Deuce,Ace and cater with reader who has same personality as sonic the hedgehog?

✦ “Speed of Heart”

Trey Clover

You were chaos.

Not the kind that causes actual harm but the whirlwind kind, the type that kicks open the doors of Heartslabyul with wind in your hair and a cheeky grin on your face. Always late, but always with a reason. Always loud, but never with malice.

Trey swore he could hear you coming before he even saw you. Your steps were light but fast, and there was always that telltale whoosh of wind as you zipped past unsuspecting students.

“Yo, Treyyyy!” you called out one morning, sliding into the kitchen like you owned the place. “Tell me there’s still cake left!”

Trey, already holding a plate of it, sighed but couldn’t help smiling. “You could’ve knocked first.”

“C’mon, you like the drama,” you teased, poking his cheek.

He didn’t deny it.

You were everything he wasn’t, fast-talking, fast-walking, fast-everything. A free spirit, allergic to plans, always chasing the next thrill. You didn’t walk places. You ran. You didn’t ease into conversations,you dove. And yet, somehow, you were never rude. Just… honest. Energetic. Blunt in a way that made people blink, then laugh, then secretly admire you.

You challenged everyone around you,including him.

Especially him.

“You can’t just eat sweets for lunch,” he said one day as you tried to sneak a second slice of strawberry tart off the cooling rack.

You raised an eyebrow. “Watch me.”

“I’m serious, you’ll crash.”

“Then I’ll crash fast.”

He rolled his eyes. “You need real food.”

“You’re real food,” you said with a wink. “Wait. That came out weird.”

Trey flushed slightly and looked away, chuckling. You were exhausting abut he was never bored.

And somehow, even with all your speed, you always slowed down for him.

When he was tired, you walked at his pace. When he was stressed, you listened,really listened, even if your leg bounced under the table the whole time. You gave him nicknames like “Specs” and “Baker Boy,” and though he pretended to groan, he was secretly fond of them.

You reminded him that life wasn’t all about rules and routines.

He reminded you that it was okay to stop running sometimes.

“Don’t you ever rest?” he asked one lazy afternoon as you leaned over the balcony with your arms out like airplane wings.

You smirked. “Not unless I’m with you.”

“…That was smooth.”

“I know,” you grinned. “Taught myself that one just now.”

He reached over and ruffled your hair, fondly exasperated. “Try not to get banned from Heartslabyul again this week, alright?”

“No promises,” you said, laughing. “But I’ll bring you something cool if I do.”

And he didn’t doubt it for a second.

Ace Trappola

Ace Trappola considered himself pretty quick,quick with his words, quick with his wit, and definitely quick when it came to escaping Riddle’s wrath. But then you entered his life like a blue blur, all energy and grins, and suddenly Ace wasn’t the fastest kid on the block anymore.

You were a comet streaking through campus: a daredevil with wind-tossed hair, a tongue sharper than a blade, and a grin that made people wonder whether you were about to save the day or cause a scene. (The answer was usually both.) You had this ridiculous habit of doing wild stunts just for the thrill,climbing to the highest point of the mirror tower just to “see the view,” racing Deuce between class periods with no regard for rules or fences, and pulling Ace into all of it without a second thought.

“Hey, Ace! You busy?”

“...Why do you sound like you’re about to get me expelled?”

“No reason. Just meet me behind the library in five minutes and don’t ask questions.”

He always followed, of course. Complained the whole way, but followed.

At first, he thought you were just another troublemaker like him,maybe even more impulsive. A little competition, a lot of chaos. Someone he could banter with and maybe one-up for fun. But then you did something he didn’t expect.

You helped him.

Like, actually helped him. Without needing anything back.

When he was drowning under guilt after flunking a test or getting chewed out by Riddle, you didn’t mock him (well, not too much). You’d flash that cocky grin and say something like, “C’mon, I’ve seen snails move faster than your pity party. Let’s fix this.”

And then you did. Stayed up with him to study. Quizzed him with rapid-fire questions. Brought snacks and energy drinks and got genuinely mad when he doubted himself.

Ace didn’t know what to do with that kind of loyalty. Not from someone like you,someone he assumed never slowed down long enough to care.

But you did care. Fiercely.

“Don’t go acting like I’m some hero,” you shrugged once when he tried to thank you. “I just don’t like seeing my favorite idiot all mopey. Doesn’t suit you.”

His heart did that weird twist thing. (It happened a lot around you.)

You made everything feel like a race, a game, a spark that could turn into a wildfire. And when he pushed back with sass and attitude, you never backed down,you thrived on it. The two of you were constantly exchanging quips, racing to outsmart or out-prank each other. But underneath all the banter was something warmer. Real.

And when you finally opened up,about how you never stayed still because stillness

meant thinking, and thinking meant remembering you caught Ace off guard.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t break down. You just looked at him one night on the school rooftop, stars above and a bag of stolen donuts between you, and said, “I keep moving because if I stop, it all catches up.”

Ace was quiet for once. Then, gently, “...Then I’ll keep moving with you.”

You blinked, surprised. “That’s… kinda cheesy.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “but you love it.”

You did. More than you could admit.

So now, when people see the two of you causing mischief, they think it's just chaos. But really? It's love at light speed.

And Ace? He never minded not being the fastest.

Not when he had you running ahead, always looking back to make sure he was keeping up.

Deuce Spade

You were chaos wrapped in a grin. Always darting down the halls like the world was a race and you had to win it. You challenged rules just to see if you could bend them, and laughed every time you left Ace and Deuce in the dust after another one of your impulsive “adventures.”

At first, Deuce didn’t know what to make of you. You were loud. Bold. Shamelessly confident. Always doing something risky, reckless, or technically against the school handbook. He tried to stop you once, right after Professor Trein warned the class to avoid the upper tower while it was under repairs.

You had your hand on the window frame, about to scale it.

“Y/N, stop! That’s—That’s not safe!”

You turned with a cocky grin. “Relax, Spade. I’ve got great balance.”

“You’re gonna get expelled!”

“Nah. You’ll cover for me if it comes to that, right?”

And with a wink, you were gone,climbing up the tower like gravity didn’t apply to you.

Deuce was horrified. And impressed. Horripressed maybe. He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that when you finally made it back down, dusty and grinning, he didn’t scold you again. He just handed you his water bottle and muttered, “Next time, tell me first. I’ll… hold the ladder or something."

Something about you made his straight-laced sense of justice buckle a little.

Because even if you broke rules, you never broke trust.

You were always the first one to defend the little guy. You’d stick your neck out for anyone, challenge bullies twice your size, and when Deuce got into trouble for defending someone else, you were the first to stand beside him,arms crossed, smirk in place, like you dared anyone to punish him.

“Don’t yell at him,” you told Riddle once, arms protectively spread in front of Deuce. “If you’re gonna behead someone, make it me.”

You weren’t just fast. You were fearless.

He needed real. Fierce. Loyal.

He needed you.

It took him a while to admit it,longer than it took you to notice, certainly. You teased him endlessly, calling him your “knight in slightly tarnished armor.” He’d blush every time, mutter something about being an honor student, but he never pulled away.

Then one day, you got hurt. Really hurt. One of your impulsive stunts went wrong,landing off a ledge, ankle twisted, blood on your palms. You still tried to laugh it off, but Deuce’s face said it all.

“No more pretending,” he snapped, kneeling beside you, voice shaking. “You don’t have to be tough all the time. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

You blinked. “I’m fine, Deuce. Just a scratch—”

“You could’ve fallen Y/N!”

“I care about you,” he said, softer this time. “Even when you drive me crazy. Even when you break every rule in the book. I care. And it scares me.”

You looked at him,eyes honest, no walls up for once and smiled.

“That’s why I let you catch up, y’know.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I’ve always run ahead. But I waited. For you.”

It hit him like thunder, warm and electric.

And from then on, you didn’t run alone. You had Deuce right beside you. Maybe still a step behind, maybe still gasping for breath half the time but always chasing after you, always trying to match your fire with his own kind of fierce.

Because even lightning needs its storm.

Cater Diamond !

Cater’s phone buzzed. Again.

[17 new messages from Y/N]

He didn’t even need to check them to know what they said. Probably something like “race you to the Mystery Shop!!” or “I found this abandoned cart and now I’m riding it down a hill,come stop me maybe?”

He sighed fondly and slipped his phone into his pocket, already heading in the direction he knew you’d be. You were faster than any broom, had more energy than a party of first-years on sugar, and just enough chaos to leave trails of confusion and awe behind you.

He loved it.

Loved you.

Even if you made his heart race in the bad and good ways.

When he finally caught up with you, you were halfway up the side of a tower, climbing as if gravity was a light suggestion. “Y/N! Babe! You’re gonna give me gray hairs,get down here before the Headmage bans me from dating you!”

You leaned over the edge, grinning wide and smug. “Then come up and get me, slowpoke!”

Cater groaned. “Why are you like this?”

You shrugged, hanging upside-down like it was nothing. “I don’t do boring. And you like me this way.”

Cater knew it was true. There was something magnetic about your constant motion. While he thrived on attention, you thrived on momentum. You ran on instinct and courage, sometimes recklessness, but never cruelty. Even when you crashed (which was often), you always got back up with a cocky grin and a new plan.

And yet, despite everything, you made time for him. You dragged him into spontaneous adventures, held his hand as you sprinted through flower fields or chased fireworks, challenged him to keep up not just physically, but emotionally.

And somehow, even when your world moved at the speed of sound, you noticed him.

When he was tired, you’d slow down. When he was overwhelmed, you’d sit still for five minutes beside him, fingers drumming impatiently against your thigh, but there. With him. Grounding and impossible all at once.

Sometimes, Cater wondered how he even ended up with someone like you.

You, who called boredom the worst kind of death, who chased dreams like wild animals and fought off fear with stubborn confidence and grit.

And then you'd stop everything just to grin at him and go, “You’re fun, Cay~ I like when your eyes sparkle like that.”

How could he not fall?

When you finally jumped down from the tower, he caught you (barely), stumbling back with a laugh.

“Next time, warn me first, speedster.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” you teased, poking his cheek.

He shook his head with a grin, still catching his breath. “One day, you’re gonna get us both in so much trouble.”

You smirked, leaning in close. “Then it’ll be fun trouble. And I know you’re into that.”

Cater sighed again, exaggerated, dramatic, adoring.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“Fastest love story in Twisted Wonderland history,” you winked. “Try and keep up.”

English is not my first language !

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderlands headcanon #twst headcanons #sonic the hedgehog #Sonic!reader #trey clover x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #cater diamond x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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purpleberiii · 2 years ago

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"Let me be the one for you"

☆Prompt: In which Shalom is hopelessly in love with reader and does everything in her power just to be with them.

☆Warnings: mentions of reader having depression, suicidal thoughts.

She never thought she'd fall in love so hopelessly with someone, let alone you. Someone who brings her the most joy whenever she sees them. Someone who does nothing but could look so gorgeous. Someone who's not in the right state of mind but she didn't care, she will fix you.

Her eyes linger on your every move, no matter where you go or what you do. She just wants to protect you. Protect you from the cruelty of this world and its despicable creatures. You are her sunshine, even though you could never radiation a spec of light. You were her everything.

The rain poured heavily against the ground of the roof you were currently sitting on. The city illuminated a gorgeous light that you couldn't seem to take your eyes off; that is until you felt a shade come over you.

"Are you trying to catch a cold dear?" You looked at the angelic voice that spoke to you. Shalom bent down with a smile, not the kind you'd normally see on people's faces. You didn't answer her and returned your attention back on the city lights.

"I guess I should become a city light if it means getting all of your attention," she giggled as she fully sat next to you.

"...what do you want from me?"

She looked at you with an expression you couldn't read. "What I always wanted."

You had no idea what she was talking about and didn't care to ask as the building looked so good to jump off right now. "It's not so fun to jump off here you know."

Your eyes widened, how did she know what you were thinking? "How did-"

"It's the only thing you think about dear...but death... isn't always the answer to your problems. Sometimes the solution could be...People."

"...People?"

"If a person has lost there spark, all they have to do is to let someone in and that someone will ignite that spark again."

Was she hinting something?

"What if... what if the person is scared... to let others in?"

"There's nothing to be scared of if another is willing to light their spark. Do you think that if they didn't care, they would keep trying? No they wouldn't. They would probably move on." Her voice was soft and sweet, almost like a lullaby that puts even a grown person to sleep. You admired how beautiful Shalom actually was.

The rain had stopped it's falling, only leaving a small drop or two. "Nobody is willing to light my spark."

She looked at you and cupped your face with one of her hands. "That's not true. If there's one thing in this world that I know for certain... is that there's someone that would kill just for you to get your smile back. That precious smile that always used for greet me in the morning and night."

You leaned into her touch without realising it and she stroked your cheek. "Let me be that person who will ignite your spark again."

"Shalom I-"

"Don't be scared. Please, I won't hurt you. I will only love and protect you. It's a promise." Those words resounded in your head.

"I love you y/n." Time seemed to slow down as Shalom muttered those words. Just those words were enough to break down your walls and get your heart pumping again. You pulled Shalom into a hug and sobbed into her shoulders, gripping her tightly as if she's going to leave, but she won't. Shalom will never leave you, not in those lifetime or the other.

A/n:

I missed the event where Shalom showed up and I know nothing of her but am still in love with her 🥲 excuse me if this didn't make sense.

#shalom #path to nowhere shalom #shalom x reader #ptn shalom #ptn shalom x reader #path to nowhere #ptn

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cerastes · 1 year ago

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Do you have any tips for final SotE boss? it feels like I'm hitting a wall.

I personally don't like engaging with this boss and it's the only one I'd say just go ham with every cheese you can think of, because while phase 1 is fun, phase 2 has so much visual clutter, it looks like this:

The proper tips would be to get used to doing multiple dodges and learn the timings for them. You often get like... 1-2 hits in every 6 or so attacks he does sometimes, depending on weapon speed and Ash of War, and that'd be ok if exhausting if it also didn't need you to wear sunglasses in order to put up with the constant flashbanging the boss does with its myriad rays of very bright light and its Super Saiyan 3 glowing puffy hair that obscures it arm movement thus you can't be sure which attack it is using depending on where you are.

In general, I would say Use A Shield, and Infuse It Sacred for high Phys and Holy damage reduction. It helps a lot learning the rhythm with some leeway if you want to engage with learning the boss' dodges without needing to restart and every 1-2 failures. And... Yeah, everything else is legitimately just grinding out the attacks, that I am not going to list individually. The only one I will is the gravity psycho crusher spiral he does at a distance: This is the single best attack he can use for you since it's very easy to dodge and you get 2 hits with all weapon types basically or one strong Ash of War in very safely. Oh, also, make that two, when he floats and throws rocks at you from the air, don't roll, just sprint to the side, I always go left, and jump as the last few rocks are getting to you. And if you see a purple flash, no matter where you are, dodge back and keep dodging back on reaction to not get pulled in. Three, there.

If you don't want to get on Asshole's Infinite Ride, respec into Str Arc, use a greatshield, have beefy phys holy resistance, and poke the guy to death with your bleeding poker of choice, like a spear or thrusting sword or anything that can poke from behind a shield.

Then, and this is important, spec back to your previous build and go fight a really good boss instead, like Bayle.

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year ago

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belladonna | i

Too beautiful to resist, and too deadly to survive; the tragic tale of belladonna in all its glory.

Masterlist | Taglist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!reader, f!reader x OC

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: mentions of toxic/abusive parents, mentions of/toxic relationships, mentions of criminal activity/criminal records, poverty, mentions of physical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of AA/NA, addictions, use of/mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking, mentions of hookups/sex, smoking, depression/anxiety, mental health struggles, swearing, sorry if I miss any!!

hi everyone! I’m so so excited for this one. I will forewarn you that this series will touch on some pretty heavy topics. i’ve been using this as therapy to avoid paying actual therapy bills 🤭 i hope that you enjoy this as much as I do, and I really hope that this series does for you what it does for me 🤍 as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

March 31st, 2022

The sound of the radio hummed through the air, wrapping you in a blanket of comfort as you wiped crumbs from another dirty diner table. Your tattered converse were covered in spills and specs of food and your apron was stained so completely that the baby blue color no longer existed. The line cook in the back was whistling every time you bent over one of the booths, causing a blush and a slight smile to pull at your lips. Every so often, he’d make an obscene comment, just to see if you’d turn around to face him so he might be able to catch a glimpse of your cleavage underneath your black v-neck. Dylan knew his limits, but he loved to push them.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” You glanced back at him over your shoulder, pushing your hips out slightly to entice him even further. He would never have the chance, but it was fun to let him believe it, sometimes.

“Yeah, actually. Why don’t you come back here and keep me company?” He sent a wink your way, causing you to chuckle. He was around your age, and undeniably attractive. His neck was littered with the peek of tattoos from his chest, and a gold chain hung around them to accentuate the detail. He looked permanently stoned, but he had a killer smile and a certain charm despite his vulgarity. His arms were strong and despite his constant flirting, you knew he would never make an unwanted advance. The only reason you refused to indulge in him was because of his very extensive criminal record, but even then, the temptation grew stronger every day. He loved poking fun only because you seemed to enjoy it so much.

“You’d like that too much.” You rolled your eyes, chucking a dishcloth through the kitchen window at him. He caught it midair, giving you a cocky smirk.

“Anything else you’d like to throw my way?”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Dylan.” The second line cook gave him a shove, pushing him out of view and popping into your line of sight. “Give me a chance, would you?” Not long after the words left his mouth, a playful wrestling match ensued on the other side of the wall. Instead of engaging in their antics, you turned and cleared the dishes of the last table of the night.

“Vincent!” You scolded, watching them battle for your affection. “If you guys break anything else back there tonight, I swear to god I will not cover for your asses!” Just as you spoke, the wrestling came to an abrupt halt, and Vincent’s head peeked up from the window. He raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side slightly. His loose brown curls hung down over his forehead, and the veins in his forehead were protruding slightly, showing you how much energy he’d put into getting Dylan to the ground. His skin was flushed red, partially due to the heat of the grills, but mostly because his blood pressure was always peaked. His emotions got the best of him, no matter good or bad, and his heart was ready to give out at the ripe age of 22.

“You wouldn’t do that to me, would you sweetheart?” He flashed you a smile, his eyes softening the longer he looked at your face. Your heart gave a small flutter at the expression. Dylan was attractive, but Vincent was completely captivating. You wish you could say that you had enough strength to abstain from both of them, but it just wasn’t true. Way back in the beginning, you’d fallen victim to Vincent’s intoxicating charm and fell into bed with him. You blamed it on being new to the city and lonely, but you knew it was all because of him. You were certain that Dylan did not know of this, because if he did, it would crush him. Also, you had cut it off pretty quickly after it started once learning about all of Vincent’s baggage. Save for a few drunken nights, the two of you were nothing but friends.

It was easy to tell yourself that, but every so often, when your eyes lingered on each other for too long, you could feel the energy in the air.

Although it was clear that Dylan’s only intent was to get in your pants, sometimes you had to question if Vincent actually felt more for you than physical attraction, or if you were just making it up in your own head. Then again, you knew he looked that way at every girl who stood before him, and you wouldn’t allow yourself to feel special (again). Also, upon learning about his aggravated assault charge from a bar fight in his late teens, you found it much easier to keep your distance after the initial hookups.

Although you hadn’t seen the criminal side of either of the boys, you knew that they hadn’t learned the right lessons from their brief stays in jail; they just got better at avoiding the cops. You made it a point to stay straight when you moved to the city, and you were intent on keeping the promise to yourself. Involving yourself with those two would be nothing but trouble, and you had grown to hate trouble with a passion.

Besides the painful flirting, they were good company to pass the time, and when you all spent so much time working together, it was impossible not to form some kind of bond.

The Foxhole was a fabled place, and after decades in business (albeit, with many changes), it was still one of the most popular diners in the surrounding area. It sat just outside of city limits, drawing in attraction from travelers and all of the concrete jungle dwellers, too. New York was a large place with many different types of people, and after a year and six months of living there, you were still trying to find your place in the world. When you moved, you had little money in your pocket and lots of hope in your heart. You had a backpack full of clothes and personal items and nothing else but a dream, running as fast as you could to get away from the curse of being your mothers daughter.

Eighteen months later, it felt like you were still running.

You went to a public library and printed off a million copies of your resume (which was incredibly bleak, with only one previous job and a reference stated previous employer, but was really your best friend from high school) and you applied at every bar, restaurant and corner store within walking distance of your low income rental. The Foxhole, although not your dream job, responded within days to schedule an interview. You showed up with a smile and kindness, but quickly realized that not even friendliness was a requirement to be a server there. John, the (third) owner, asked if you had a criminal record (with a follow up question of ‘if you do, how extensive is it?’). Not ten minutes later, you had an apron in hand and you were scheduled for the upcoming week.

Not long after starting, you quickly gauged the environment of your new workplace. The Foxhole, although popular with the public, was an absolute shithole (You soon learned that this was actually the nickname your fellow employees referred to it as). In the seventies, it started as an old tavern. It was popular with middle aged men who hated their families, but not many others. It ran for just under a decade before the original owner stopped paying his mortgage and filed for bankruptcy, and the whole establishment flopped. It was then purchased by a younger couple in an estate sale from the bank in the early eighties, who decided to keep the bar theme. Instead of marketing themselves to middle aged, miserable men, they painted it bright colors and added a dance floor, trying to push the disco theme. To nobody’s surprise, they followed in the same footsteps as the original owner.

Although they did try a bit harder, and the proof remained to this day. You could see bolts in the floor of the old dancing area, signifying a stripper pole was once installed. They put in some more booths and tried to push a menu, but eventually, it went belly-up. Before the banks could foreclose a second time, John stepped in and made the purchase, which ended up changing his life. From the stories you’d heard, you could not gauge if it was for better or for worse. John gutted the whole place and painted over the abhorrent neon colors, placed an old jukebox in the corner and refinished the interior. He named it Foxhole, and seemed to strike gold despite the building causing nothing but shit for previous owners. With a small menu and cheap food, he’d been milking the success for over thirty years.

Success meant little when it equated to making only enough money to keep the doors open, though.

Employed at the Foxhole was four female waitresses who were older than the building itself, five line cooks (three who had a criminal record), two busboys, and four young women who waitressed the overnights (including you). John worked nearly 24/7, and his wife sat in the office and yelled at him all day. They capitalized off employing older women who had nowhere else to go, struggling students, and ex-convicts and addicts. That way, they could offer employment to the desperate and still pay them much less than anyone else. Plus, shared tips were a great selling point. Besides, how else would you find staff for the only 24-hour diner in the area?

You took the Thursday-Sunday overnights with a girl named Katie, while the other young waitresses took the rest of the nights. The older waitresses split the days, and the line cooks worked according to a similar schedule. Vinny and Dylan almost always worked with you, and a part of you was grateful for it. Although they had their flaws, you had grown to enjoy their company, and could honestly say that they were the only real friends you’d made since moving to the city.

“You gonna go home and write your silly little poems?” Vinny asked, his Brooklyn accent nearly grating as he hoisted himself up on the counter. As he waited for a response, he gave you a smirk. You rolled your eyes, dunking your hands into the steaming water in the industrial sinks. It was nearing 5, which meant you only had an hour left to go.

“Yeah, all about me.” Dylan cut in, leaning against the door of the walk-in freezer.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart.” You could only manage a half-smile as you spoke, the thought of writing nearly tearing your heart in two.

“What’s wrong, dollface?” Vincent asked, picking up on your withdrawal. “You better still be writing. That’s the whole reason you came here. That’s your ticket out of here.” His lips turned down into a frown.

“I… I am, yeah.” You nodded, drying your hands on your apron. You didn’t have the heart to look him in the eyes, nor could you admit that writing was the last thing you wanted to do. Inspiration had run dry, and now you were stuck wondering if this really was the end of the road, or if your mother was right and you would come home with your tail between your legs. For the last year and a half, you wrote about everything; the way the trees looked in the sunlight, the skyscrapers, the way the birds chirped, and even the cracks in the sidewalk. You found inspiration in your own sadness and fear, and your own happiness when it came along (even if it was rare). You wrote about failed relationships and lost friendships, and most of all, you wrote about the broken kinship between you and the woman who gave birth to you.

Writing was your safe space, but now that the motivation had passed, you were left feeling unsecure and lost. You feared that you had written every single thing that your brain could come up with, and that the desire would never return. Since the decline began, you’d been desperately searching for something to give you that spark back. You sat at the grocery store for hours, overlooking the produce, brightly coloured yet blemished. You looked between the cracks in the city stone, finding moss rooted and peeking out from the concrete. You looked at the sprouts of weeds in the sidewalk, and the crying babies and laughing children as they passed you on the street.

You searched everywhere for just a hint of an idea, but you were left with nothing. The feeling was gutting, and you feared that you did not know how to live without your pen pressed to paper.

You’d heard stories of writers block, and lately, even found yourself reading articles about it, but you had come to one, horrible realization; you had never experienced it before, and you were unsure if it was truly just a bout of writers block, or if it was a permanent, more serious issue. After twenty three years, you had never felt this way, and you were beginning to believe that it was just the way life was, now. You went home after work, sleeping for hours instead of your usual routine of writing until your eyes forced themselves shut. You couldn’t look at your laptop, and your journal was a stranger.

You came to New York to write a book, but you feared that you were now stuck in New York with nothing but a wasted dream and crushed hope.

“I’m definitely no palaeontologist, but I think you might be lying.” Vinny raised an eyebrow, pointing a finger at you.

“P-palaeontologist?” You asked, stifling a laugh. “Do you by any chance mean… a psychologist?”

“Oh, fuck off with all your fancy words.” He snipped, getting defensive. For a moment, you could see the vein in his forehead pop out again in frustration. “Clearly you know what I fuckin’ meant. You know I didn’t graduate.”

“No, no, I think you have me misunderstood. I’m actually quite impressed you know that word.” You assured him.

“Yeah, but I don’t really know what it means.” He calmed down, laughing at his own stupidity.

“That’s okay, darlin’.” You reached out, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “I guess I am lying.” You shrugged, looking towards the floor. “I haven’t really been writing much at all, lately.”

“Why not?” Dylan joined, immersed in the conversation now that the laughter died down.

“I don’t know,” you sigh “guess I just haven’t had much inspiration. Hard to write something meaningful when I know nobody is ever going to read it… or fucking care about it.” You grumbled.

“Listen, I know we can’t read very well, but I’m sure the two of us could piece it together.” Dylan gave Vinny a pat on the shoulder, smiling over at him. Vincent nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, we care, sweetheart. Don’t we count?”

“Of course you do.” You chuckle, finding your cheeks heat with a blush. “It’s just… weird, right now. I usually want to write about everything, no matter what. Emotions, memories, places I’ve visited, but now I don’t feel like anything is worth writing about. I don’t feel like it’s interesting enough.” You tried to explain it. “Feels like I’m just putting words on a paper, and nothing more. Think maybe I’ve been in my head a little too much. Sad and angry, and all of that… fuck, I don’t know.” You groan, running a hand through your hair.

“Why don’t you write about that, then?” Vincent offered. You looked up at him for a moment, contemplating his words. “If you’re feeling all of that stuff, then maybe it’ll mean something more.”

“Yeah,” Dylan agreed. “Go home tonight and write about not wanting to write. Maybe it’ll help you figure your shit out.” You looked between the two, giving a soft smile. After a few moments, you gave a slow nod.

“Yeah, maybe I will. Think you guys might finally be right for once.” You teased, trying to keep the conversation light. Vincent’s face lit up with a grin, happy that you thought it was a good idea.

“What can I say? I’m more than just a pretty face.”

April 3rd, 2022

You stood, top half leaned out the back door of the building as a cigarette smoldered in your hand. The night was darker than usual, and the city was much quieter, even for a Sunday. You took a long inhale of smoke, puffing your cheeks out and pursing your lips as you blew it outside in the direction of the dumpsters. As you did so, you felt a hand on your lower back as someone reached to open the door a little more. Vincent leaned his head out beside you, just over your shoulder as he gave you a cheeky smile and raised an eyebrow. Without any words exchanged, you rolled your eyes but brought the cigarette to his lips. His eyes fluttered closed as he took a drag, waiting a moment before he exhaled through his nose. His hand remained on the small of your back, the gentle touch sending a shiver down your spine.

“You can use your words, you know.” You tried to sound stern, but there was a smile on your face as you continued holding the cigarette to his lips.

“Why should I? You already know what I want, sweetheart.” He shot back, taking another haul.

“I do,” you chuckled. “For some reason, I don’t think it’s a cigarette, though.” His grip on you tightened for a moment as he shot you a sideways glance.

“What do you think I want then, Miss know it all?”

“An excuse to talk to me?” You raised an eyebrow, offering the idea. He stayed silent for a moment, but eventually gave a slow nod. A smile began to break out on his lips, knowing he’d been caught.

“So what? You have a problem with that, sugar?” His body was closer to you than it had been in a long time, and you wondered if he was taking his shot while Dylan was preoccupied with the freezer inventory.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Unless I should have a problem?”

“Nope,” he popped the p, shaking his head. His head was still turned to face you, his lips unbearably close to your own. He watched as your gaze flickered down towards them, but he didn’t move any further. “Goin’ to the Pony after this, if you’re interested?”

“Are you actually, or is it just an excuse for me to let you sleep at my place?” You questioned. The Pony was a bar just around the corner from your apartment complex, and it was in just as poor shape as the Foxhole. The drinks were strong and cheap, but it didn’t have much else to offer (except for smoking inside, which was a rare thing to stumble upon). There were a few old slot machines in the back, and they played blackjack in the main room on Tuesday’s.

It was mostly occupied by gangbangers who were looking for a new client to sell to, and 70 year old men who chose drinking over starting a family. Vincent went quite often, but you feared that it was for one of two reasons; he was still caught up in his old habits, or he was trying to find an excuse to wiggle his way back into your life. He lived on the other side of town, and once he had a few beers into him, the drunk calling started, and you were never one to let him drink and drive. He knew this well, and he used it to his advantage.

There had been many nights where he came knocking on your door, or when you stumbled out into the darkness to find him drunk, leaning against his car with a grin but no intent to drive. His brown eyes would sparkle in the moonlight, and his soft lips would invite you in. He wouldn’t have to speak a word to get you to open your arms, inviting him in for a hug before you inevitably invited him upstairs. He spent many nights on your couch, but a few in your bed. As much as you wanted to scold him for pushing his luck, you knew you were the only one to blame; you invited him in every time, and you woke in the morning with a sense of freedom and happiness, like you’d just broken free from the chains you had placed so tightly around your own wrists.

You wanted him, and somehow even after convincing yourself that he was bad for you, you never felt a shred of regret for what you did with him. He wasn’t all that bad, but you knew that distance was your best option; he did not seem to outgrow the bad habits you had tried so hard to keep yourself away from. That did not make him a bad person, nor did it make him any less important to you, but you knew that if you wanted to keep yourself on the right path, a relationship with him was out of the question.

“If I wanted to come over, I would ask, and you’d say yes.” The cockiness radiated from him, and you hated that it only seemed to entice you further.

“Vincent…” you warned, giving him a sad stare.

“Oh, would you cut that shit, y/n?” He snapped, the withdrawal seeming to sting him. “You make it seem like I’m a monster.”

“That’s not… that’s not what I meant, and you know that.” You felt the fire burning in your chest, but you managed to swallow it back.

That was another reason to stay away from Vincent; he always seemed to bring out the worst of your emotions at the drop of a dime.

“Then what do you mean, doll? ‘Cause I don’t seem to be understanding.”

“Fine, Vin. You want me so bad, get clean.” You snapped, just the thought of it irritating you. “I’m not going through rehab all over again ‘cause you want to fuck me.” The words seemed to hurt him, but you were unsure of the reason. Part of you wanted to believe it was because he was appalled that you would ever think that he would let you backslide, but the more logical part of you knew it was because he hated your rejection. He had a taste of the sweetness you had to offer, and he couldn’t stand the idea of never having it again, but it came between you and his lifestyle, you knew what the priority was. “The Pony’s a shithole anyway. Wouldn’t want to waste my morning there.”

He looked like he wanted to fight, but instead his lips turned into a tight frown as he gave a curt nod of his head. “Once an addict, always an addict, right?” He said, moving back from you completely.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You rolled your eyes, turning to face him.

“It means,” he said, narrowing his gaze at you. “That’s all you’ll ever fuckin’ see me as.” You swallowed the sour taste in your mouth, scowling at him as his chest heaved with his hurt. Vincent’s biggest flaw was not the addictions, nor his history with the law, but how every emotion he felt always seemed to dissolve into anger, and his ability to turn every conversation into a fight. “At least getting high never makes me feel the same way you do.” With that, he turned on his heel, storming off to join Dylan in the freezer. You tried to hide the look of hurt on your face as you tossed the cigarette butt in the bucket, slamming the door with enough force to shake the walls. You threw your lighter down next to the pack of smokes sitting on the metal shelving unit, walking back out into the main area to keep cleaning.

When you walked out the swinging half-door, the other waitress, Katie, leaned against the counter while scrolling her phone. She looked up at you just for long enough to give you an expression of distaste, almost biting her tongue hard enough to hold back a snide comment.

“You planning on working tonight, or are you just going to make the whole place smell like cigarettes?”

“Yeah, ‘cause you sure look like you’re fucking hard at work.” You grumbled, kicking the rolling mop bucket out from behind the counter. The dirty mop water sloshed from the sides, spilling over onto the floor and inevitably pissing you off even further.

“You have another fight with your boyfriend?” She smirked, the sneer in her tone making your skin crawl.

“Do you ever take a night off from being insufferable, or is that a permanent kind of thing?” You grabbed the blue metal handle, ringing the head of the mop out before swinging it over the side. It landed on the tile floor with a squelch, and you wasted no time in cleaning up the mess you made. She didn’t respond to your jab, instead making a move to restock the jam holders at all of the tables. You worked hard scrubbing the grime from the floor while she took her time making sure the single-serve condiments were organized. Every so often, you shot a piercing glare at the back of her head, wondering what it would be like if you threw the whole mop and bucket at her.

Katie was undoubtedly the worst part of working at the Foxhole, and you considered it a victory when she called in sick for her shifts. It was a regular occurrence, and since you were hired, you’d heard that it only became more common. Your distaste for being around each other was shared, and you knew hers stemmed from your ability to get along with Vincent and Dylan. Or, perhaps, their ability to get along with you.

From the beginning, it had been clear that you were not the only one who’d fallen victim to Vincent’s charm, yet you seemed to be the only victor when it came to his heart.

When you first arrived, Katie did not seem all that miserable. She was timid, but smiled at you and taught you the ropes. You would have to be blind to miss the nervous stutters and blushing cheeks when she was around Vincent, and it made you think the two of them had something beyond what it looked on the surface. You quickly learned that was not the case, and her schoolgirl crush resulted from a lazy hookup in his car after a long night shift, and after that, his interest in her greatly declined. When you both walked in the front door of the Fox one day, standing a little too closely with matching hickeys on your neck, her smiles became scarce and her desire to get to know you fled.

You did not know the history between the two when you first hooked up with Vincent, nor did you know much of anything else. It did not take long for her to do whatever she could to make you miserable, starting with explaining Vincent’s criminal record and (required by parole guidelines) his AA/NA meeting combination. Instead of jumping the gun and shutting him out, you approached him with the new found information looking for an answer, and after some heavy avoidance, he admitted to all of it. It was a long night shift with many conflicting emotions, but you eventually came to the conclusion that you had to stay away for your own sake, despite already falling for him beyond anything you’d felt before.

Even after you ended things, Vincent and you remained close friends, and every so often, broke the boundaries you had set in place. Katie still hated you, despite your efforts to apologize and make amends, and Vincent seemed like he struggled to comprehend the fact the two of you could not be together. It was a shitshow, yet it was oddly comforting. You weren’t sure if you could handle it if something were to suddenly change. Even when your misery got the best of you, you knew that Katie would always hate you and her snide remarks would keep you on your toes, that Vincent would always trip over himself to flatter you (which would eventually lead to a fight), and Dylan would never know the true extent of the situation and serve as comedic relief.

As you finished mopping the corner tiles, relieved that most of the dirt was lifted from the floor, something light struck you in the back of the head. You furrowed your eyebrows, letting out a small huff as you turned in the direction it was thrown from, first looking at the floor to find a balled up piece of receipt paper. Then, you saw Vincent looking at you, a playful smile on his face, but regret in his eyes. You placed the mop back in the bucket, using the handle to wheel it along with you as you walked towards the back. Vincent’s eyes followed you as you moved towards him, but he didn’t speak. When you joined him in the kitchen, wheeling the bucket towards the mop closet, he followed close behind.

“You have something to say?” You grumbled, opening the closet door as you flipped the bucket upside down on top of the grate covering the drain. You were still upset, and he could see that. His words, like always, had a huge impact on you. You wished he would think before he spoke rather than speaking out of anger and trying to apologize ten minutes after the fact. For someone who claimed he cared, he wasn’t very good at showing it.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, looking down at his feet. “Shouldn’t have said that.” You held back a scoff as you let the closet door fall shut, not straining yourself to soften the slam. “Do you ever think that maybe, instead of turning straight to insults, you should bite your tongue for a second and fucking think about what you’re saying?” You brushed past him, grabbing the spray disinfect and a new rag. This time, he didn’t respond, which only seemed to piss you off more. “I’m not out to get you, Vincent. I’m protecting myself.”

“From what, y/n? You keep saying that, and I don’t get it.”

“I moved here to purse my dream of being an author, but I also came here to get away from the life I made for myself at home. I spent six months in rehab, and the minute they let me go, I packed my stuff and I ran. I thought that once I got here, I could start over.” You paused for a moment, spraying down the metal countertops. You took a long breath before speaking again. “I like you, but I don’t like that lifestyle, Vin. I’ve already fucked up too many times, and I’m scared that if I do it again, there’s no going back. Besides, I can’t pay for another detox at the hospital.” You chuckled at the thought, knowing that the seven days of torture was not worth the thousands of dollars, even with insurance coverage (which the Foxhole definitely did not provide).

“Okay,” he gave a slow nod, looking across the kitchen to gather his thoughts. “So… if I get clean, you say you’ll give me a shot?”

“Sure, yeah.” You forced out the words, the pained look on your face clear. In a perfect world, that’s how it would be, but you knew that he’d never stick to the promise. You couldn’t force him sober, and he didn’t really want to recover. Even if he did, you weren’t sure if you could trust him enough to believe he would stick with it. The conversation went the same way every time, and clearly no progress was made, hence why you were sitting in front of him explaining the same things for the millionth time. You could not allow yourself to get your hopes up, and you could not trust him while knowing that making a promise to stay sober for any person other than yourself is a terrible idea.

“I think… do you think that I don’t care?” You stopped for a moment, your whole body freezing as you wiped the lemony-smelling cleaner from the countertop.

“What?” You asked, looking back over your shoulder at him. His brown eyes looked sad beneath the tough exterior he’d built up. His cheeks were red, irritated from the cold of the freezer. He was only a couple inches taller than you, but in the moment of high emotion, It felt like he was towering over you. For once, anger did not seem present in his face.

“I know… I’m not the best at the whole emotions thing, and I say shit I don’t mean, but I care if you’re sober too, doll. I mean, your last detox was… it was hell. I don’t want you to go through that again.” You swallowed hard at the thought of the relapse, and the thought of his concern.

“You just hated working without me.” You forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood. When focusing on your own addictions, you began to panic. The fact that he knew that part of you so well scared the shit out of you, but also made you feel like he should understand why you were setting the boundaries. There were many things you didn’t understand about Vincent, the biggest one being his long list of red flags, yet his huge heart that cared about everyone so deeply. You knew that it was not entirely his fault; he had no guidance growing up, nor did he have anyone to help him correct his mistakes, but that did not change the fact that he was a 22 year old man that did not know how to hold himself accountable for anything.

Vincent was many things; a son born into a family who did not care if he lived or died, a child who was never loved the way a child should be, and a hurt little kid who grew into a man that was angry, lost, and trying to bargain with his crushing disappointment over his own failures. He struggled with the law, but more than anything, he struggled with his own demons. He had an addiction he could not face up to and overcome, and monsters in the closet that all looked like his father with a belt in his hand. He had a criminal record which stopped him from pursuing the things he once dreamed of, and was destined to be stuck working at the Foxhole until he could either clean himself up, or he died.

He was vindictive, sly, arrogant, and naive. He was raised by drug dealers who taught him all of the wrong morals, and who always made it a point to show anger before any other emotion. He was taught how to evade the law, and how to use fists instead of words. He picked himself up off the ground every time he fell, and grew a nasty amount of independence. He relied on nobody but himself, and would not let anyone take that away from him. He did not know how to trust, nor did he know how to love, but god did he want to. He felt like he needed to, especially when his eyes landed on you.

Despite his struggles, he was not a bad person. He cared deeply for the people that were important to him, and he would die for them on any given day. He was funny, and he was goofy, and he was great company. He was easy to fall in love with, but that was the danger. Although all of those things were true, down to the core, what he said earlier was correct; he was an addict, and worse than that, an active addict. Nothing was more important than a fix, and it turned him into the worst version of himself. You were no stranger to the evils of substance, but now that you were sober and intent to stay that way, you could finally see the monsters it created. His irritability and his lack of control over his emotions was staggering, and his inability to understand the harm he was putting on to others was catastrophic. He was selfish, and so much so that it constantly hurt others in the crossfire.

You could not judge him too harshly, because you knew all too well that it would take little for you to become that person again, too.

Even though you saw him for all of his flaws, you saw him as a human being, too. You saw him as the charming man who only had to smile in order to make your stomach fill with butterflies. You knew him as the boy who would drive you around as needed, or would lend you his car if he needed to be elsewhere. You saw the man who showed up at your front door with a wrench and a smile when your pipes burst in the kitchen sink and your landlord did not care enough to fix it. He was your friend, and he was someone you cared deeply about. His addiction was not who he was, but rather what made him be so hard to digest sometimes. You knew that if he managed to get clean and stay that way, he could be that person all of the time.

Unfortunately, you did not have the courage nor the ability to help him get there, and the thought of that alone nearly killed you.

Helping him was all you wanted to do, but you knew better than anyone that the only person who could help Vincent was himself.

“Don’t look so sad, sweetheart.” He said, reaching out and laying a gentle hand on your arm. You looked down as his fingers connected with your skin, the touch sending jolts of electricity through your whole body. You caught his eye, your lips turned down into a frown. You wished so bad for it to be easy, but after twenty three years, you knew that this lifetime was never meant to be kind to you.

Before you could speak, you heard the familiar chime of the bell above the door. You looked between Vincent and the empty dining room. As if she knew, Katie peeked her head back into the kitchen, giving you a look and a raised eyebrow.

“They’re in your section.” You could hear the distaste in her voice. Unlike usual, you didn’t have a witty comment or a sarcastic response to shoot back at her.

“You… you can have it. Take the tip, too. Don’t care.” You muttered. “I’ll finish cleaning.” For a second, you thought you saw a shred of humanity in her eyes when she caught sight of your pained expression. Without any further words, she turned and left the two of you alone again. Before Vincent could continue your earlier conversation, Dylan pushed open the door of the freezer and stepped out, shuddering at the sudden rush of warmth on his skin. The tip of his nose was burning red and his teeth were chattering together.

“Cold enough for you, dumbass?” Vincent asked, baffled and Dylan’s refusal to wear anything other than a t-shirt while he did inventory.

“Keeps me awake.” He said, doing a couple small jumps in his spot to get the blood rushing through him again.

“No, makes you look stupid.” You corrected, wiping at the counter again. “Is that grill on? We’ve got a customer.” You nodded towards the blackstone grill that looked awfully cool. No billows of black smoke were filtering into the air, telling you they definitely turned it off in anticipation of having no more customers for the night. Dylan rolled his eyes, but flicked on the heat to the max, hoping to get it hot before Katie brought back the order.

“Who the fuck goes out to eat at,” he paused, looking at his watch “two in the morning on a Sunday?”

“Obviously them, and enough people that John decided to keep us open 24 hours.” You sighed, knowing you would have to clean the dining room all over again.

“Okay, miss know it all.” Dylan put on a mocking smile as he walked to the window to grab the order slip. Once you deemed the kitchen clean enough, you sat atop one of the counters you’d just scrubbed clean. Vincent seemed to be keeping his distance, now. You weren’t sure if it was because you had hurt his feelings, or he was too afraid to show his emotions around Dylan. Katie hung out by the window, using the soda machine just underneath to pour the customers their drinks. “You write about not wanting to write, yet?” Dylan asked, throwing a veggie burger on the grill.

“No, not really.” You chuckled, looking down at your hands. “I mean, I did, but it was terrible.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, doll.” Vincent said, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Yeah, no, it definitely was.” You gave a slow nod. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Feels like I can’t write anything anymore.” You sighed. “I’m trying to find inspiration in anything, but it all just seems… bleak.”

“It’ll come, always does.” Dylan assured you, flipping the food with the thin metal spatula.

“Yeah,” you noded, trying to believe it. You ran your hands over the hem of your apron, pondering your lack of a muse, when suddenly it seemed like the universe was laughing at you.

No, it wasn’t the universe laughing; it was something far more beautiful and melodic than something that was normally so sinister.

Your head snapped up and your heart pounded against your chest. The sound was so powerful that it seemed to shake the whole building, making the rotten foundation quiver and threaten to give way. More than powerful, it was breathtaking, and you were desperate to know where it was coming from. You looked out the window, peeking into the dining room to see what the commotion was, and why it was so striking that it made your heart skip a beat. Your eyes soon landed on the corner booth, taken by the only two customers in the entire store. Sat in the very corner, shoulder pressed against the window that onlooked the road dimly lit by street lamps, was a man who was certainly the most beautiful you had ever seen.

The smile was still lingering on his lips and the ghost of his laugh hung thick in the air. His hair, long and curly, hung down over his broad shoulders to frame his beautiful crafted face. A tattered band shirt with the sleeves cut off and a worn out logo magnified his strong arms. His jawline was sharp, angling down into a soft chin, and although large, his nose was stunning. His eyes, even from far away, managed to make your stomach flutter with curiosity.

Whoever he was, he had turned your entire world upside down in an instant. The warm embrace of his presence was more profound than anything you had ever felt before, and as you sat staring at him, you were aching to know him. His beauty was blinding, and his laugh seemed to strike more inspiration in your heart than you even thought was possible.

It was in that moment that you realized a muse was not something you could search for, but rather something that finds you when the time is right.

After weeks of feeling defeated, wondering if your entire life had lead to nothing but disappointment, or spending hours in bars and coffee shops trying to find inspiration yet met with nothing, it only took a split second for your hands to beg to be wrapped around a pen. You needed your notebook, or your laptop, because the sight of his face prompted enough emotion for you to write entire novels about the feeling.

Dylan served the two plates in the window, and you watched as Katie walked it to the boy and his company. Whatever his friend said prompted another laugh that blossomed straight from his chest, echoing off the walls and making home in your heart. His friend seemed loud, definitely more talkative than the curly haired boy. He was facing away from you, his long brown hair falling down his back. You did not even truly care what he looked like, because you were certain he would pale in comparison to the boy who already managed to steal your heart. You sat, completely immersed in the sight with no shame about your staring. You hung on to every small detail and miniscule expression, hoping to sear it into your memory for the rest of time. Every time a laugh fell from his lips, butterflied erupted in your stomach.

He did not notice you, but god did you notice him, and so much so that it was hard to see anything else.

When you finally broke from the trance and looked back into the kitchen, Dylan and Vincent’s eyes were both burning into you. Dylan was smirking, like he already knew what was running through your head without you having to say a word. Vincent, on the other hand, was definitely not even close to smiling. His jaw was hard set, the vein in his forehead protruding slightly as he clenched his teeth together. He knew exactly what you were thinking, and it absolutely gutted him. Your cheeks tinged red as if it were the cherry on top of an already catastrophic disaster, and you wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. Instead of speaking, Vincent grabbed the pack of cigarettes the three of you shared and walked out the back door, making sure to slam it for extra salt in the wound.

You swallowed hard, looking back at Dylan with a flicker of anxiety in your eyes. He shrugged it off, clearly not understanding the extent of the situation and leaned against the counter beside you.

“So, are you gonna go talk to him?” He asked, giving you a goofy smile as he gazed out at the man in question. You looked back towards the dining room too, your eyes shining with wonder at the two unnamed men. You have a slow shake of your head, knowing that you would never, but wishing that you would.

April 4th, 2022

You woke with a start, your head pounding as the sun shined brightly through your large panel windows. You shifted in your position, immediately wincing from the aches and pains that ravished your body. You blinked a few times, trying to focus your eyes as you took in your surroundings. You were on your living room floor, head propped up against the couch with your journal still laying atop of you. You must have fallen asleep writing, as your pen was still clutched tightly in your hand.

You quickly located the source of the disturbance, seeing your phone ringing loudly and irritatingly beside you. You picked it up, focusing your eyes on the screen to see who could be calling. When you saw John’s name on the screen, you felt your stomach drop for a moment. You swiped across the screen, accepting the call as you hit the speaker button.

“Hello?”

“Hey, y/n.” He said, almost sounding pained to be calling you.

“What’s up, John?” You asked, stretching your limbs out to rid yourself of the pain lingering in your joints. Sleeping on the floor was definitely a bad call, even if it was only for a few hours.

“I hate to ask this, but could you come in and cover the lunch rush? I know you worked overnight last night, but Linda had to leave; her husband fell and she had to take him to the emergency room.” Linda was one of the older ladies who worked the mornings. You quite liked her, even if you did think she smelled like the basement of an old Catholic Church. “I’ll pay you time and a half.” He offered, hoping to bribe you with the extra pay.

“Yeah, that’s no problem.” You would have agreed anyway, but the offering was not something you were willing to refuse. “Give me about thirty minutes and I’ll be down.”

“Thank you, darlin’. You’re a lifesaver.” You could hear his relief through the phone.

“Love you too, John.” You chuckled, ending the call and making a move to stand. You quickly ran to the bathroom, jumping in the shower and washing away the night shift that was still lingering on your skin. You washed your hair and took an extra minute to condition it and sit under the warm water, then rinsed off and jumped out. You blow dried your hair and styled it slightly, dusting on some light makeup. You always made sure to look nice for a busy serving shift, because it made the older men much more generous with their tips.

You ran to your bedroom, pulling out a pair of black leggings and an old Zeppelin shirt that once belonged to your brother. One thing you liked about the Fox was that the dress code was nonexistent. You could show up in your pajamas and John would just be relieved that you showed up at all. You stuffed your purse full of the necessities and grabbed your phone from the couch as you passed by. You locked the door as you made your way into the hallway, throwing your keys in your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. As you walked down the stairs of the creaky old apartment building, the sun already began to hurt your eyes before you even reached the door. You pushed open the front door and took a long breath of air, the coldness filling your lungs and making your chest ache for a moment. Spring was just around the corner, but winter still seemed like it was trying to hang on.

As you slipped your headphones in your ears and hit shuffle on your playlist, your eyes noticed something familiar across the street. You furrowed your eyebrows, your lips turning into a frown as you recognized the rusted out body of the 80’s model car. As you walked a little closer, you noticed the silhouette of Vincent, sleeping soundly in the driver's seat. You approached the vehicle, raising your fist and rapping it against the glass with force. It only took a second for him to shoot awake, looking around to try and figure out where he was. With a defensive stance, his head whipped towards the window. As always, he looked ready for a fight, but when his eyes landed on you, his expression softened. As you pulled your jacket closer to your body, he rolled the window down.

“What are you doing sleeping in your car, Vin?” You asked, clearly displeased with his actions. “You know what type of people hang out around here.”

“Drank too much last night,” he grumbled, rubbing his face in his hands as he squinted at the sunlight. “Knew it was best not to drive.”

“You could have called.”

“Thought you didn’t like it when I did that, doll?” He cleared his throat, the rasp of cigarettes still heavy in his tone.

“I…” you paused, shifting your weight between your legs. “I'd rather you be safe.”

“I’m safe, don’t worry sweetheart.” He chuckled, his cockiness peeking through. Vincent loved framing himself as unafraid of anything, but it simply was not true. He thought he was invincible, even if you knew he was just a man. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“John called me in, something about Linda’s husband falling. She had to leave.” You explained.

“That guys always fucking falling. Should get him one of those little stair elevators, you know? Like in the commercials?” You laughed at his idea, nodding in agreement.

“They probably would if they weren’t poor.” You reminded him.

“Yeah, aren’t we all?” He leaned his head against the headrest, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to keep the hangover at bay. “You want a drive over?”

“Sure, if you’re headed that way.” You agreed, walking around to jump in the passenger seat. He started the car, the old engine turning over a few times before eventually sputtering into a slow start. The interior immediately began to smell like gasoline, but you ignored it. It was one of the most charming quirks about the vehicle.

“You sleep last night? It’s awfully early to be going back in.” He noted, looking down at his watch. The radio system in his car no longer worked, including the digital clock (it read the wrong time when it did work anyway, so it did not really matter).

“A little, fell asleep on the floor of all fucking places.” You chuckled, pulling your jacket closer to your body again. He rolled the window up, noticing your small shiver. “I’m only going in for a few hours, so it doesn’t matter much anyway.” He did not respond to this, instead pulling the car around and driving out onto the highway. The rattle of the engine filled the stale air, and you looked out the window as he drove.

“You’re going to miss NA.” He stated, glancing over at you for only a second. “You didn’t go last week, either.”

“I know, I know.” You sighed. “I’ll catch the Wednesday meeting instead.”

“You promise?” He pushed, not willing to let it go. You bit your tongue, knowing he was the last person in the world who should be scolding you about missing your meetings.

“Yeah. Are you going today, or do you want to come with me on Wednesday?”

“I’ll come with you.” He said without hesitation. You were the only thing that made the meetings bearable for him. You did notice he was slightly withdrawn, and he did not even attempt to reach over and put his hand on your thigh.

When you turned your head to look at him, you finally noticed the details you managed to overlooked before. His eyes had dark circles underneath, and the whites were bloodshot. His pupils were blown, nearly engulfing his irises, and if you squinted hard enough, you could see the red ring of blood lining his nostril. He was still coming down from the high the night before, and the thought almost made you sick to the stomach. The emotion was not because he chose to do drugs, but because in the moment of seeing him like that, you could remember what it felt like so vividly that it made your head spin. Your hands went clammy and your fingers began to tremble as you bargained with yourself to just make it to the diner.

He clicked on his turn signal, cutting sharply into the parking lot and pulling up to the door so you wouldn’t have to walk through the parking lot. “Thanks, Vincent.” You choked out, still trying to distract yourself from the idea of his endeavors the night prior.

“I’ll see you Wednesday.” He said, forcing a smile. The come down had hit him hard, and you could tell his whole body felt like lead. His eyelids were heavy, and he would likely park in the empty lot next to the diner for a while to get some more sleep.

“Yeah,” you nodded, forcing him a smile, too. You jumped out of the car, pulling a half smoked cigarette from your pack to smoke before you went inside. You stood a few feet away from the door, and finished it as fast as you could. You crushed the butt beneath your old ratty converse and took two large strides to the entrance, pulling the door open and stepping inside.

The chatter in the room was immediately overwhelming, and the smell of the deep fryer hit your nose almost instantly. You rushed behind the counter and through to the kitchen, grabbing a clean apron and an order pad. You shoved the book and a pen in your front pocket, and knocked on the door of the office to grab a cash float. You heard John tell you to come in, and as you opened the door he sent you a smile. He already counted the cash and had it waiting on the desk for you, which you shoved in the second pocket.

“Thanks again, darlin’. You only have to stay for the rush.”

“Don’t mention it.” You smiled, closing the door behind you. You moved back out to the dining room after punching in a time card. John had not yet moved to an updated system, because computers were not his forte. Nobody complained, because you got paid all the same. Betty gave you a wave as she dropped off some order tickets at the window, relieved to see you there.

“Linda has the back section, and there’s a couple people who haven’t been served yet. You mind starting there?”

“No problem.” You assured her, grabbing a stack of menus to bring over with you. You stopped first at a booth with a family. They had two small kids with them who seemed to be getting impatient. The mother held the baby in her lap while the little boy sat next to his dad. You handed out the menus and took drink orders, stopping to crouch down and talk to the boy who looked to be only five.

“And how old are you, baby?” You asked, giving him a warm smile as he played with his tiny model car on the table.

“Four and three quarters!” He grinned, looking over at you.

“Three quarters?” You exclaimed, matching his excitement. “That means your birthday is coming up soon?” He gave an eager nod. “That also means,” you stopped and checked the front of the menu to make sure of the policy before saying the wrong thing. “You get to eat for free today!” You glanced up at the mom, sending her a gentle wink. Not often did you serve kids, because you usually only worked at night. According to the menus, kids under 6 ate for free. “So you can have all of the Dino nuggets you can eat.” The prospect seemed to excite him even more as he looked to his dad, hoping he would verify if you were telling the truth. “I’ll be back in a few to take your orders and bring your drinks.” You told the woman, who was smiling at you while bouncing the baby in her lap.

You moved on to the next table, an older couple who was sweet and already knew what they wanted without even having to look over the options. You wrote it down, knowing they were likely regulars. You assured them it wouldn’t be long before moving to the last table. You barely looked up as you made your way towards the corner booth, but when you did, your heart nearly jumped straight from your chest. The curly hair was unmistakable, and the outline of the big nose made your stomach twist with anxiety. You hated to admit that he noticed you and spoke long before your brain could formulate a word, ultimately leaving you looking like an idiot.

“Hey, mind if I have one of those?” As if it were some sick trick from the universe, his voice was just as heavenly as his laugh was the night before, and his eyes were just as soft and warm, inviting you in even further. His teeth were white and impossibly straight as he smiled at you, and it made your heart thud dramatically against your chest.

The boy that you’d spent all hours of the morning writing about was in front of you, sitting in the exact same seat he was when you had seen him for the first time.

“Y-yeah, f’course.” You forced a smile, your cheeks burning red as you handed him a menu from the dwindling stack in your hand. “You, uh… what brings you here?” You asked, internally facepalming at the stupid nature of your question. It was a diner; obviously he was there to eat.

“Uh… food?” He raised an eyebrow, smiling at you as he answered. He didn’t seem concerned about your nervousness, and if anything, it sparked an intrigue in him.

“Yeah, obviously, sorry.” You chuckled, shaking your head as you tried to straighten your thoughts. “I mean, you were here late last night, too. I know the food’s not that good, so it has to be something else bringing you here.” You flashed a real smile, your wit seeming to find its way back to you.

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed, nodding. “I’m not from here, actually. My friend and I are traveling. We booked an Airbnb for a few months, so it gives us some time to explore New York. Our flight came in late, and this was the closest spot last night…. And this morning.” He explained.

“The truth comes out,” you chuckled, cocking your head to the side. “Where you from?”

“Michigan.” He replied, trying to read over the menu, but his attention seemed to only want to be on you. “What about you? You definitely don’t have the accent like the rest of the city does.”

“Utah,” you grinned, surprised he picked up on it.

“So how the hell did you end up here?” He smirked, seemingly very interested in the conversation and uncaring that you were working amidst a lunch rush.

“Long story, sweetheart.” You laughed, brushing it off. He didn’t really want to know, and you didn’t want to bore him.

“I’ve got all the time in the world.” He shrugged, motioning to the empty both. You pondered his words for a moment, biting the inside of your lip. He was completely enamouring, and you barely even knew him. From the twenty seconds of conversation, you felt compelled to keep talking to him, wanting to know everything you could.

“Why don’t I take your order, and if you still want to know, we can make that happen.” You offered. He thought about it for a moment, finally seeming to realize you were working. He was so enthralled in your face and your words that the whole world around him seemed to disappear.

“Yeah, that’s probably a better idea.” He nodded. “Any recommendations?” He asked, completely ignoring the menu in his hand in hopes that you would keep talking.

“Breakfast or lunch?”

“Breakfast.” He confirmed.

“Omelet is good, vegetarian or not. Can never fuck up one of those.” You explained, smiling down at him.

“Sure, one of those, however you like it.” He said, his brown eyes lingering over your face. “And a coffee, please.”

“Sure thing.” You gave a soft smile, reaching down to pick up the menu again. “I’ll be back.”

“Can’t wait.” He shot back, keeping his eyes glued to you as you walked away. As you went to drop off the order tickets and collect the drinks for your tables, your cheeks were burning and your chest was filled with curious excitement. You didn’t know him, but you wanted to, and it was almost hard to believe that he seemed to want to know you, too.

You did not want to get your hopes up, because men had always let you down, even if they had ample amounts of promise. Then again, he seemed different than anyone you’d ever spoken to before. He didn’t seem creepy, nor did his eyes travel anywhere other than your face. He was friendly, soft spoken, and kind. He didn’t think your anxiety was strange, and he didn’t even mention it in efforts to keep you comfortable. You didn’t know him at all, but he seemed better than anyone you’d ever laid eyes on, looks and personality-wise.

You never know unless you try, and try was the only thing you knew how to do. You were determined to know him, and only then you could truly judge his character. Even if he turned out to be an asshole or disappointing in some way, he would at least be nice to look at in the meantime.

You dropped off drinks at your other two tables, then doubled back to brew his coffee. You tapped your foot against the floor in anticipation, hoping it would speed up the process. When the coffee maker sputtered the last pathetic spurt of liquid, it let out a tired groan as the button and lights clicked off. You poured a mug and grabbed a milk and cream dish. You carefully walked it over to his booth, setting it down in front of him with a sigh of relief. You were known as the coffee spiller amongst the staff, and you finally seemed to deliver one successfully.

“Thank you,” he smiled up at you, the sight nearly taking your breath away. “I’m Danny, by the way.”

“Danny…” you pondered, the corners of your lips tugging onwards. “I like it. I’m y/n.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He smirked, tearing open a sugar packet and dumping it into the steaming cup. Your cheeks dusted red again, your entire body heating at the compliment. “So you said you were here last night, but you definitely weren’t the one who served me. She seemed a bit…” he trailed off, trying to find the proper words.

“Bitchy?” You offered, raising an eyebrow. He let out a laugh, so similar to the one you heard last night. It nearly made you weak in the knees.

“Sure, yeah.” He nodded. “That’s not how I would word it, but that’s probably the best way to say it.”

“I shouldn’t be so mean,” you sympathized with the girl, even if she wasn’t standing there to hear it. “She’s not the worst person in the world, but she is hard to get along with sometimes.”

“Yeah, I can see that. She was giving Sam dirty looks the whole time.” He chuckled at the memory. “I get it, though. Sam’s loud, and he’s a lot to take in. I’m sure you guys weren’t expecting that at two in the morning.”

“We’re usually a bit busier at night, but last night was super slow. Think she was just doing it because technically you were sitting in my area, and I was busy.”

“Busy, but still concerned with who was sitting out here?” He questioned. You prayed your cheeks would stop rushing with blood as you tried to think of a proper response.

“I’m nosy, what can I say?” You shrugged.

“I must have left an impact, cause you recognized me today.” He pointed out, taking another sip of coffee. You gave a slow nod, a smile pulling at your lips.

“Yeah, well, we definitely don’t get too many cute boys in here. Usually just drunkards from the old tavern and teenagers who snuck out.” You explained.

“Cute?” He pressed, liking the sound of the term. You rolled your eyes, playful but sweet.

“Yeah, yeah, get over yourself.” You gave a soft laugh.

“No, actually.” He shook his head. “I’m sure I’ll be thinking about that for a while, especially coming from someone as beautiful as you.” You smiled, biting down on the inside of your lip again. Instead of continuing the conversation, you decided to play hard to get.

“Your food shouldn’t be too much longer.” You gave a smirk, adding a little pep to your step as you turned and walked away. Again, he watched as you disappeared behind the counter, waiting for your plates to be served.

Soon enough, the meals for the family of four were served on the windowsill. You grabbed the ticket and brought them their food, letting them know to just give a holler if they needed anything else. You went back and retrieved the plates for the older couple and dropped them off to them just the same. Eventually, Danny’s meal was served and you had to stop for a moment, regaining your composure before you brought it over to him. You picked up the omelet, carting it close to your body as you walked to the corner booth, being mindful of your steps so you did not trip over anything. When you reached his table, he gave you a smile as you placed it down in front of him.

“Looks good,” he commented, happy with the recommendation.

“Definitely not a Michelin starred restaurant, but we know how to make an omelet.” You grinned.

“Seems so,” he gave a nod of approval.

“Let me know if you need anything else, sweetheart.” You said, looking over your shoulder as more customers filled up the seats in your section.

“I will for sure.” He promised. “Thank you.” You didn’t respond, but gave another smile as you walked to greet the new customers.

After a while, the buzz began to die down. People were leaving with smiles on their faces and full bellies, and the tips were flowing generously. You brought the debit machine from table to table, allowing people to pay so they could make their way home. Every time you saw a customer out, you checked to see if Danny was ready. He seemed to be taking his sweet time, but you didn’t mind at all; it saved from another person replacing him in his seat, and it gave you something pretty to look at. If you could have it your way, you’d never let him leave.

He was intriguing, and you seemed to like every exchange of words more than the last. He was someone you wanted to keep talking to, and someone you wanted to share things with. He was interested in everything you had to say, and you hung onto every word that fell from his mouth. He was the most interesting person to ever sit in the diner, in the best way possible. You wanted to ask for more, to see him again, but your fear was stopping you. Rejection terrified you, and embarrassment was not any better. Instead, you stole glances at him and hoped that he would ask first, or that he would at least come back once he decided it was time to leave.

When most of the crowd filtered out, John let you know that you could head home, and that he convinced the night waitresses to come in a little early to cover the dinner rush. You nodded, letting him know you had one more customer to see through and then you’d be on your way. He thanked you again, wasting no time returning to the office. You liked John quite a lot; he was friendly, nice, and didn’t really care much about what you did during your shift as long as the job got done. He was old, and he was tired. The diner had given him a run for his money, and he was excited to retire, but realistically he knew it would never happen. You felt bad for him, but at the same time, you were happy to know he would be running the show for the foreseeable future.

You walked over to Danny, hoping to catch another quick conversation with him. He seemed to be pleased with your decision to join him again, smiling as you advanced towards him. “Back again?” He asked once you were in earshot.

“Just couldn’t stay away,” you smirked. “You all finished?”

“Yeah, think so.” He nodded, draining the last of the coffee from his mug. “Trying to get me out of here?” He asked.

“No, but the sooner you leave, the sooner I get to go home.” You explained. He gave a slow nod, picking up on the situation, now.

“If that’s the case, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No need to rush.” You assured him, hoping you didn’t come off as rude. You’d stay all day if it meant you got to talk to him.

“I know, I know,” he chuckled. “But Sam’s probably wondering where I am, so I probably should get back.”

“Yeah, no problem. I can grab your bill?” You offered.

“Sure,” he nodded. “Mind if I borrow your pen for a second?” You grabbed it from your pocket, handing it over to him before running to the counter to print off his receipt. You brought it back over to him, placing it face down on the table.

“Shit, do you need the debit machine?” You asked, remembering that you hadn’t asked him yet. You were too caught up in the beauty of his smiling face.

“No, cash is fine.” He promised, flipping over the bill. You mindlessly watched out the window as he pulled some money out of his wallet, leaving it on the table as he made a move to stand.

“Oh, hold on.” You stopped him, eyeing the fifty dollar bill with unease. For a second, you thought you might have charged him wrong. “I’ll get your change.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “I’ll see you again sometime?”

“Danny, that’s way too much-“

“Ah,” he cut you off, shaking his head. “Whatever happened to the customer is always right?” He raised an eyebrow. You let out a sigh, knowing that it was best not to argue with him.

“Thank you,” you said, feeling guilty for accepting such a large gesture. The tip was nearly four times his bill total.

“No need for thanks, the service was excellent.” He assured you. “You said you work the overnights here, right?”

“Yeah, usually.” You nodded. “Thursday to Sunday.”

“I’ll have to stop by sometime.” He noted, slipping on his jacket. Your eyes lingered over the muscles of his arms shown off under the sleeves of his t-shirt. You swallowed hard, trying to push the thought away.

“Guess so,” you agreed, nodding slightly. “Have a good rest of your day.”

“You, too.” He said, his shoulder gently brushing with your own as he passed by. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, and you turned to watch as he walked out the front door, wishing that you had the courage to follow after him or ask him to stay. Instead, you saw him disappear from view, and you were left with a sinking feeling in your stomach and regret looming overhead.

You turned to the table, grabbing the cash he’d left and your copy of the receipt. He’d penciled in the tip total, but what caught your eye was a napkin laying underneath that had black pen scribbled on it. You picked it up, bringing it closer so you could read the messy handwriting. As your eyes drifted over the words, your stomach filled with butterflies and your cheeks began to ache from the smile that took hold.

It was fantastic meeting you. If you ever have the time, I’d love to hear about Utah.

Below that, he left his phone number and a series of X’s and O’s. You bit down on your lip, slipping the note in your pocket to save for later, turning away to count your tips. As you went to the register, you couldn’t help but notice the excitement filling you, and how eager you were to get home and use the number he’d left, even if it was just to tell him about Utah. For the first time in eighteen months—no, for the first time in years, your happiness was genuine and you were eager to see what the next day would bring.

TAGLIST: @imleavingyoufornewyork @itsafullmoon @bladenotblaze @jessicafg03 @dont-go-home-without-me @peaceloveunitygvf

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apprenticestanheight · 1 year ago

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hi!! i have a request :) would it be okay if you wrote a specs x transmasc reader where the reader gets specs to help him with a testosterone shot?? its totally okay if no tho!! have a good day :)

T - specs x transmasc! reader

hi nonnie!! I'm sorry this took a while--this one has been sitting in my drafts for a good few weeks now and I've had it written for just as long. My object permanence is the absolute fuckin' worst, however, and I, admittedly, forgot to edit this before today because of getting distracted by other projects and also getting so anxious I physically could not will myself to get out of bed multiple days in a row since you sent this one into my inbox.

HOWEVER, I did get my shit together today (started on medication for adhd because I told my dr I thought I had it and we're testing it out to see if it works for me to help with those symptoms + anxiety management wot wot) and so, here this is!! I am, once again, sorry for the delay, and I promise if you send another request in I will do my best to do it that week.

fic type - this is fluffy!!

warnings - there are mentions of needles in this

In the five years since you'd come out and the five and a half since you and Specs had started dating, you'd only asked him to help you with your weekly testosterone shot maybe twice in the three and a half years since you'd finally gotten through all of the necessary hoops and had been able to start taking it.

Normally, you could do it yourself without a hitch, sometimes a little squeamish at the sight of the needle, but that Friday you'd asked him to help because he did it a bit quicker than you did--even if by just a solid second or two--while the two of you were on a time crunch in a rush to meet Elise and Tucker. Also, somewhat, as a way to squeeze a bit more time with him out of your day because you had to work an eight hour shift from 3-11, and when you got home he'd either be reading a comic while half asleep or asleep on your side of the bed in your absence.

He agrees to your ask without questioning it, getting the shot ready while you talk to him about how work has been because you've worked a string of evening shifts for the past three weeks and have been too drained to talk about it the next day. He happily listens, occasionally commenting where it's appropriate to make a remark or agree with an opinion you hold about a coworker, though he also acknowledges that he only has your bias to base an opinion on and not his own.

"Thank you for this, by the way," you murmur as you're standing up to pull your pants down to your thighs. "I know I could've done it myself, but I've missed you a lot lately and wanted to squeeze in an extra few minutes."

That remark brings out a soft smile from Specs, given to you as you're sitting back down. A second later, you can see the debate as to whether or not he wants to give you a forehead kiss occur in his expressions before he pauses, presses a quick but somewhat lingering kiss to your forehead, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek.

"I've missed you too, for what it's worth," Specs says. "Elise has kept us busy with her clients and Tucker and I have kept ourselves busy with Spectral Sightings stuff, but we've not seen much of each other lately and it's been hard."

You've missed him so terribly that it hurts, and there have been multiple points in the lulls of your evening shifts wherein you've been tempted to just pick up the phone and call him. You haven't for fear of being judged and seeming co-dependent, but you're at a point where you don't care how co-dependent it makes you seem. You're allowed to miss him when you're working evenings and don't get much of a chance to see him except for in your easier mornings.

You're nodding your agreement with his sentiments as he finishes getting your shot ready. You watch the needle go in, unblinking and relatively unphased, grabbing a "fun" Band-Aid--one shaped like a ghost, one of many from a Band-Aid kit gifted to you by Tucker for your birthday that year--to place over it as the slight pain from the injection settles and the needle is removed.

You pull your pants back up and rake your hands through your hair as Specs discards the needle properly, ever the one to be cautious about how your injection needles are handled, and you're thanking him as you put your testosterone away as it's meant to be stored.

He does a bit of idle cleaning while you finish getting ready, and you wind up stealing one of his button downs to wear over a black shirt. You kiss his cheekbone as he tosses you your keys, and the two of you leave your shared house hand in hand, so full of contentment that you already know how happy you seem is bound to make Tucker fake a gag while he smiles.

#specs fisher insidious #insidious (2010)#insidious #specs fisher x reader #specs fisher x male reader #specs fisher x transmasc! reader #specs fisher

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sawtastic-sideblog · 2 years ago

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I have a request!

Specs x GN!reader. Both are Elise's apprentices. They're in the van, returning from a ghost hunt. There's a kind of romantic/erotic/sexual tension between them. And... if there can be smut in the van, I'd love it!

Have a good day <3

Thanks for the request! Sorry it took so long.

I hate to disappoint you anon, but I don't feel comfortable writing smut. I do hope I did your request justice.

I love bold Specs. Yes, he's an bumbling, awkward fool, but he can be confident sometimes.

Very self conscious about the use of the word "and" in this fic.

Hope y'all enjoy!

"I get to drive Elise's car!" Specs and Tucker yell at the same time. You and Elise laugh as Specs holds out his fist. Tucker holds his out and one, two, three, he holds out scissors.

"Dammit. Best two out of three," Specs says. One, two, three. Specs holds out rock and Tucker holds out paper. "Three of five?"

"Nope, you're driving the van," Tucker says proudly, holding his hand out to Elise. She places the keys in his hand and turns to you.

"Why don't you ride with Steven and give him some company?"

"I was going to offer, if Specs is okay with it okay with it."

Specs looks up from where he was packing the van at the mention of his name.

"What?"

"Would it be okay if I ride in the van with you?"

"Yeah, great, but I pick the music."

"Fine by me. I have headphones," you laugh. Specs nods and goes back to packing the van.

"Is this my exit?" Specs asks as he squints at the sign in the rain. What was supposed to be a smooth ride has turned into a rough one. You two were following Tucker and Elise when you got pulled over for a tail light being out, you couldn't find your chargers to charge your phones, you asked Elise and they were in her car, it started raining so hard you couldn't see, and your phones had died. Not to mention, Specs is doing all the driving because you don't have a license. He's tired and cranky, he's trying not to show it, but you can tell.

"I don't know. I can't read it."

"I'll take it anyway. We can find a motel and stop for the night. Maybe they'll have a charger for one of our phones," Specs says as he takes the exit ramp. You stare out the window, looking for anything to tell you where you are.

"Look, there to the right. There's a motel."

"Thank god," he mutters as he slows the van. He parks and unbuckled himself. "Stay here. No point in you getting wet too. Well, before we go to our room," Specs says. You chuckle. He looks confused for a second, then realizes. "Oh my God! No, not like that. You know what I mean!"

"I know what you mean, Specs. Just go get our room before I piss myself," you say, still laughing. You watch as he awkwardly runs towards the office.

He smiles out the door at you and motions for you to follow him. You grab your bags and keys, lock the van, and run towards the door Specs is standing at.

"You didn't have to get my bag," Specs says, opening the door for you.

"Yeah, well, I did anyway so you wouldn't have to run back in the rain. Did they have a charger?"

"No, we'll have to find one tomorrow. It's another six hour drive."

"Oh fun," you say, putting your bags down on the bed. "Only one?"

"I asked for two, I swear!" Specs panics.

"It's okay, I'll take the couch."

"No, I will."

"No, Specs, you paid for the room, you should have the bed."

"Y/N, take the bed."

"No, you."

"No, yo-"

"We can share," you say out of frustration. "We're both adults. We know boundaries are a thing. We'll be fine."

Specs nods slowly, unblinking as he processes the information. "Okay."

"Okay. I'm going to shower. Unless you wanna share that too?" You joke, raising your eyebrows as you carry your clothes to the doorway. He shakes his head.

"I'm good. Thanks though."

You walk into the bathroom and turn on the water. You undress and just as you're about to step under the water, the door swings open.

"Hey, Y/N, do you want-

"Specs, what the hell?" You shriek, grabbing a towel to cover yourself. "Get out!"

"I was going to ask if you wanted-"

"Out!"

"Pizza," he says as you slam the door behind him.

"Yeah, extra cheese," you say, your face burning in embarrassment. You shower quickly, but stand under the water, thinking about what just happened, until you hear Specs announce the pizza's arrival.

You turn off the water and wrap yourself in a towel. You take your time dressing and decide to let your hair air dry.

"(Y/N), I am so sorry!" Specs exclaims as you step out of the bathroom.

"Don't worry about it," you shrug casually as you grab a slice of pizza. You notice Specs watching you eat. "Take a picture. It'll last longer."

"Sorry, I um, I'm sorry."

You laugh inwardly and turn on the TV. It only picks up the local channels, so you just flip through until you find Wheel of Fortune.

You're not sure how long you dozed off for, when you hear the shower running. You hear quiet mumbling coming from the bathroom.

"Specs?" You call out. You get out of bed and shuffle towards the door. When you hear him quietly singing the Ghostbusters theme tune, you crawl back under the covers and close your eyes. You don't fall asleep, but you think about the case and how the family will recover. You're glad to have been part of the team that helped them.

Your thoughts drift to Specs. How concentrated he gets when he listens to Elise and writes everything down. The scrunch of his nose, the furrow of his brows, the intensity of his gaze on the paper. You wish he'd look at you like that again.

You have had a crush on Specs for as long as you could remember. The awkwardness of his introduction caught your attention. The way he stumbled over his words, said the wrong thing and tried to correct himself, only to make it worse. Elise had wanted you to work with Specs and Tucker for a while, but you had alway worked alone. Until a particularly bad case caused you to call Elise for help.

You saw the big van with "Spectral Sightings" on the side of it and immediately thought 'knock off Scooby-Doo Gang.' You met Tucker first. The behemoth of a man, eating a snickers bar, seemed nice enough under the intimidating exterior, but it was his shorter friend that caught your eye.

He had a small frame, hair that was neat, but still stuck out in random places, and big square glasses. He almost looked like a child wearing his dad's work clothes in the white button up shirt and loose black tie. It was cute. He was cute. He still is cute.

During the session, you watched Specs intently, seeing what this man could do. When he looked up from his notebook, his eyes were fierce and hard. His eyes shifted to you and you immediately lost your breath. Frozen in place, you could only stare back, feeling weak at the knees. It made you feel as if you were the only person in the world. It hasn't happened since, but you think about it all the time.

'That look,' you think, laughing to yourself, 'is my Roman Empire.'

You're pulled from your thoughts as the bed dips behind you. You turn to see Specs taking his glasses off and placing them on the nightstand. His hair is still damp and the strands cling to his forehead. His eyes meet yours.

"You're still awake."

"Not for long. Goodnight, Specs," you say, yawning as you snuggle into your pillow.

"Night, (Y/N)."

The smell of coffee pulls you from your sleep. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the sunlight. Your eyes immediately find Specs at the table, headphones on, hands pressing them against his head as if he's trying to hear it better. His eyes scanning the laptop screen.

You stretch as you walk over to the table. You find a breakfast burrito and a cup of coffee in front of the chair beside Specs.

"Morning," he says as he takes off his headphones.

"Morning. You got breakfast?"

"Yeah, there's a gas station right down the road. I walked over this morning. The guys there told me about a good breakfast place. So, I walked over and got stuff. It's really good. They didn't have any chargers for my phone, so I got one for yours. It's charging now."

"Thanks, Specs. You're so thoughtful," you smile at him and he smiles back, his eyes not leaving yours until you look away.

A couple of hours later, the two of you are on the road again. Specs is quietly singing along to the radio as you edit some footage for the next episode of Spectral Sightings.

"Hey, (Y/N)."

"Hi, Specs."

"I wanted to talk about last night."

"What about it?" You ask looking up from the laptop.

"I'm sorry I walked in on you. I wasn't thinking. Well, actually I was thinking you were behind the curtain and I could just stick my head in, but then my mind went blank. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

"I wasn't uncomfortable. You just startled me. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable and scarred you for life."

"I wasn't uncomfortable either. Just startled, I guess. But, I'm also not scarred. You have a beautiful body. You should feel ashamed of it."

"Thanks," you say as your cheeks heat up. He just complimented your body and didn't stutter doing it. He's either evolving ot he likes you. You can't decide.

He gives you a smile as he stares into your eyes. You don't look away, getting lost in his green eyes. You feel yourself wanting to lean closer, but the seatbelt prevents it.

A horn from behind you brings you both back to reality. Specs jumps and looks forward to see the light has turned green.

You continue to stare at Specs. You admire his jawline, the bit of scruff on said jawline, the way his eyes flit about, taking in his surroundings on the road.

"Hey, Specs."

"Hi, (Y/N)."

"You're pretty," you say before you can stop yourself. His eyes widen and he glances your direction. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. But you are. Pretty, I mean. A very handsome man. Oh, Jesus, what am I even saying?"

Specs' looks of surprise fades to one of amusement. He chuckles quietly before saying, "I think you're pretty, too, (Y/N). So very, incredibly pretty. Drop dead gorgeous."

You don't know what to say. You mutter a quick 'thanks' and go back to your editing.

About an hour later you two decide to stop for lunch. You spot a park with a walking trail across the road from the diner you're at.

"Let's go for a walk after lunch. We're going to be stuck in the van for a while, plus, it's a beautiful day," you say, looking out the window.

"That's a good idea."

After lunch, you two make your way across the stret. You follow the trail into the woods, taking in the beauty of the trees, flowers, clouds, bird songs, and everything else. You walk side by side, talking about the latest case. About how you're both glad to have helped the family. Suddenly Specs stops.

"You okay?" You ask. He doesn't answer, pointing towards something and holding a finger to his lips. You turn and see five deer standing still. You cover your mouth to stifle your gasp of amazement.

"Give me your phone," Specs whispers. You do and he starts taking pictures. Birds fly out of the trees above and the deer run into the trees.

"How beautiful," you say, looking over to Specs, who is looking at you.

"I agree. Beautiful."

"Deer are so majestic."

Specs nods and steps closer, holding your phone out. You take it and start looking at the pictures. You notice that Specs is closer. You look up as he is reaching out to you. His fingers brush against your hair, lightly trailing to the place right above your ear. He pulls his hand back with a leaf between his fingers. His eyes find yours and only then do you realize how close he actually is. Only inches between the two of you.

"You, uh, had a leaf in your hair."

"I can see that," you say, eyes not leaving his. His eyes flit down to your lips for a second before looking back to your eyes. Something splatters on Specs' shoulder. You both look to it.

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah, that's what it is," you giggle.

"I'm going back to the van to change. You can take your time."

"I'll come back with you. Elise wants us back as soon as possible. She's been texting me. Tucker too."

"Okay. All over my Star Wars shirt. I got this at a Con. I met Mark Hamill. He signed my original edition poster."

"I once ran into Carrie Fisher and Debbie Renyolds when I was a kid. As a fan of Star Wars and musicals. I was in heaven."

"What musical was Carrie Fisher in?"

"I don't know if she ever was in one, but Debbie Renyolds was in Singin' in the Rain. I loved that movie growing up."

"Oh, of course, I knew that."

"It should only take us about two and a half more hours to get home," you say, looking at the GPS. Specs unlocks the van and you hop in.

"I only have the button up and I don't want to wear that. I'm going to go find a shirt. Want a souvenir?"

"Yeah, sure, get me something cool," you say, not looking up from the laptop you just opened. You edit as you wait on Specs to come back. When he does, he crawls into the back of the van. In the reflection on the screen you can see him shed his shirt, careful to avoid the bird poop. He throws on a white shirt that has a cartoon cow and pig holding up boxing glove covered hands. Hooves? Either way their front appendages have boxing gloves on the end of them. He gets in the front seat and hands you the same shirt, but in black.

"I think it's the big game for the local high school," he says.

"I love it. I'm going to change into mine," you say as you place the laptop in your seat and you crawl into the back. You pull your shirt over your head. From the cover of your eye, you notice Specs staring at you in the mirror. He's been bold today, so you decide you should be too. You smile cheekily as yu walk up behind his seat, making sure you hide you body behind it. You lean down and get close to his ear. You whisper, "Like what you see, Specs?"

He doesn't say anything. You make eye contact in the mirror. His eyes hold a mixture of fear, embarrassment, and what looks to be amusement.

"Do you?"

Specs nods and you smile. You lean forward and kiss his cheek before throwing the shirt over your head, grabbing the laptop, and ploping down into your seat.

"What the hell, (Y/N)?"

"What? I saw you looking at me and asked if you liked the view. You did, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, cool, drive. Elise wants us home."

Silently, Specs starts the van and pullsput of his parking space.

"I just need you and Tuck to do your talking bit and this episode should be ready to go up," you say about half and hour away from home.

"Thanks. We can probably do that tonight."

"Cool."

"Or tomorrow. I'm tired."

"Fair enough. Ugh, I just realized that I have to get a ride back home tonight. Eh, I'll just ask Elsie to crash on her couch," you say, closing the laptop.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you like me?"

"I mean, yeah. We're frien-"

"No, (Y/N). That's not what I mean. Do you like me as more than a friend? Romantically?" He asks, looking at you while at a red light. You nod and he smile softly. "Good. I like you too."

"I'm sorry I teased you."

"Don't be. It was kinda hot. Oh, also, you snore."

"I do not."

"I shared a bed with you last night. You're clingy, you talk, and you snore."

"I do not talk. Or snore. And what the hell do you mean by clingy?"

"You cuddle is what I mean. But, yes, you do talk. If I remember right you said 'just look at me, Specs' and I would love to know the meaning behind that."

"No."

"I'll find out."

"No, you won't."

"I'll ask the further."

"What the spirits will tell you what I mean?"

"They may."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

Specs laughs as he pulls up at Elise's house. You crawl into the back to help pass the equipment out. A hand grabs your wrist and you're being pulled into a body. You're nose to nose with Specs.

"Since we like each other, can I kiss you?" Specs asks as he runs a hand through your hair. You nod and he crashes his lips into yours.

Inside the house, Tucker sees the van.

"Elise, they're back."

"Oh, thank goodness."

The two head outside and Tucker opens the back door to find two of his best friends making out.

"What the hell?" He asks. The pair jump apart.

"Oh, hey, guys," you say as your cheeks flame.

"Hi," Specs says proudly as his cheeks also go red.

"It's about time," Elise says, grabbing a bag. Tucker shakes his head as he grabs equipment cases and following Elsie to the garage.

"Wanna share my bed tonight?" Specs asks.

"That sounds like a good idea."

#adam writes #steven specs fisher #leigh whannell #specs insidious #tucker insidious #insidious #elise insidous

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ashes-2-ashes57cba · 10 months ago

Text

The Bad Batch: Valkyrie

Episode 5: Entombed

The only "warnings" I have is that this has not been edited sorry :|

“Suddenly, I felt its tentacles wrap around my legs, pulling me down into the depths,” Phee dramatically spun her tale. Specter, resting against Hunter as he sat at the bar, chuckled as Bolo and Ketch gasped, completely enthralled. “I had no choice but to fend off the Octomorph. Bare-handed.”

“This story changes every time she tells it,” Tech observed.

“Aww, it’s cute that you pay attention,” Specter teased.

“Leave him alone, Spec,” Hunter muttered.

“Where’s the fun in that? It’s puppy love,” she angled her head to him. He gave a thin smile and shook his head. She snickered and tuned back into Phee’s story.

“...vanquishing the creature, I swam to the coral cave. And did you know what I found?” she asked, Bolo and Ketch leaning close in anticipation.

“What did you find?”

“What? What was there?”

“Spit it out!” the two urged simultaneously.

“Only the Grand Pearl of Novak,” Phee revealed. Specter had mouthed along before realizing she had indeed changed her story.

“Wasn’t it a crown last time?” she asked aloud.

“I thought it was a magic mirror or something,” Echo said. Bolo and Ketch clearly hadn’t noticed.

“Those two will believe anything,” Hunter grumbled. Specter found that fact to be more entertaining than the stories themselves.

The group perked up at a commotion from the stairwell, looking to find Wrecker and Omega had returned from the junkyard. Specter relaxed and leaned her head back on Hunter, watching out of the corner of her eye as Bolo and Ketch went to one of the gaming tables.

“Mission accomplished!” Wrecker cheered. “One compressor, as requested,” he set the compressor down for Tech to examine.

“Ah. Nicely done, Wrecker,” he complimented, finding it in satisfactory condition.

“That’s not all we got,” Omega said, dropping her collection on the dejarik table. Tech looked the items over, finding nothing of relative value.

“This assortment, however, could have been left at the junkyard,” he said.

“Easy, quick draw. let the expert take a look,” Phee interjected, sorting through Omega’s items.

“She called him ‘quick draw’!” Specter practically squealed.

“What is with you?” Hunter hissed, somewhat amused.

“It’s cute!” Specter argued.

“It’s almost like you’re the one that likes her,” he said in a low voice. Specter swallowed her words and scowled.

“Hush you.”

“It is a manifold regulator. And a broken one at that,” Tech stated as Phee picked up a piece.

“Thanks, Clone Obvious,” she rolled her eyes. Phee continued rooting through the assortment, finally finding something she deemed interesting.

“Hang on,” she muttered, turning the disk-like object over in her hands, finding a piece that flipped up to reveal etchings. “These look like coordinate markings.”

“Coordinate markings?” Omega repeated, gasping with excitement.

“Mel, take a look at this,” Phee called her droid over, kneeling down to let it scan the object. It beeped in response. “I was right,” Phee whispered before turning to Omega, who had gone to stand by her, “This is a compass. One from long before our time…” Specter raised a brow in curiosity, wondering if it was another one of her tall tales, or, for once, the truth. The droid beeped again. “These coordinates are in the Kaldar Trinary system.”

“I have no record of that system,” Tech said, having looked through his datapad.

“Because the best treasures usually aren’t found on maps,” Phee pointed out.

“There’s treasure there?” Omega excitedly asked. Specter stood up now, watching the scene with interest.

“Without a doubt,” Phee winked. “The compass is a rare find. You’ve got a good eye.” Omega, now excitedly bouncing on her feet, turned toward Hunter.

“Let’s go check it out! You heard Phee!”

“She says a lot of things,” Hunter said, crossing his arms.

“So do you sometimes,” Specter mumbled, covering her mouth with her hand.

“That’s not the point,” Hunter hissed.

“It isn’t?” Specter feigned innocence. Phee laughed aloud at their banter.

“I can go alone and take the spoils for myself if it’s too much trouble,” she offered, “or we go together and split it 50/50.” She pulled Omega close to her and handed her the compass.

“Please, Hunter! What if there really is treasure there?” Omega reasoned.

“Yeah, we’re not on a mission,” Wrecker agreed, taking the girl’s side.

“It could be fun,” she added, trying to entice him. Specter snorted and laughed out loud, holding her stomach.

“Omega, hun, be honest: can you really see Echo and Hunter having fun?” she jutted a thumb toward the two.

“Hey!” Echo protested, appalled. “The last time we went after treasure, it didn’t go as planned.”

“You weren’t working with a professional then,” Phee reasoned.

“And if Tech can’t find it in his system, I doubt the Empire will be there, so now there’s no chance of screwing up!” Specter added, standing next to Phee. Tech shot her a look, Specter corrected her statement. “Fine. There’s less of a chance of screwing up.”

“What do you say?” Phee asked, slinging an arm around Specter’s shoulders. Hunter turned to Echo, who shrugged and provided no further argument; he sighed and nodded.

Specter walked into the hold, finding Hunter playing with his knife again, keeping an eye on Omega and Phee, who had their feet propped up on Mel. He flashed her a quick smile before returning to his watch. Specter honestly found his overprotectiveness a bit ridiculous, but also endearing. She also found it amusing how unwilling he was to go on this adventure.

“How many uncharted planets have you been to?” Omega asked.

“Too many to count,” Phee scoffed, bringing her feet down to pat her droid. “That’s why I need Mel to keep track of all the legends I’ve chased down over the years. That’s the life of a treasure hunter.”

“Don’t you mean ‘pirate’?” Hunter questioned, holding his blade still. Specter huffed in amusement.

“I prefer ‘Liberator of Ancient Wonders’,” Phee turned her seat to correct him before turning back to Omega. “Wanna hear about the time I found the Blade of Zakata Par?”

“Yes, I do!” the girl squealed, eyes sparkling. Hunter rolled his eyes and left the scene, leaving the girls in the hold. Specter shook her head, convinced that Phee simply made the story up as she went. She caught sight of her axe propped up against the wall, the glossy display varnish having long since worn off. She couldn’t help but still wonder why it fit so perfectly in her hands, and why her sisters buzzed over it. They had given no answer before their departure. Since Phee was an alleged expert on legendary treasures, Specter considered going to her for answers about her own story.

They touched down on a desolate landscape, a small distance away from a tall mountain. Tech started scanning the area as they walked out onto the dust while Phee and Omega led the group, eager to explore. Specter observed their surroundings; the air was still and there was a kind of emptiness over the land. As though a song had suddenly come to an end.

“I’m not picking up any signs of civilization whatsoever,” Tech reported. “Which makes sense, considering this land appears to have been razed and left uninhabitable.”

“A strange kind of weapon did this… and not one that I could fathom,” Specter added, shifting the dust under her boots.

“Who’d wanna hide treasure here?” Echo wondered. A strange beeping startled the group, they all turned toward Echo, who happened to be the source of it.

“What was that?” Wrecker asked.

“The compass just activated,” Echo held up the device. He turned in circles, the compass beeped faster facing the mountain. He took a few steps in that direction. “It’s telling us to go south,” he said.

“Let’s go!” Omega cheered, snatching the compass from his hand and running ahead.

“Now she’s got the right attitude. Wait up kid!” Phee ran after the girl.

“Look at you, Echo the Adventurer,” Specter teased, nudging him with her elbow as they followed Phee and Omega.

They hiked for a while, Hunter and Echo had gone up front with Omega while Wrecker and Tech guarded the back, Specter drifted toward Phee, walking beside her.

“So,” she started, “just sort of casually wondering—it’s no big deal if you don’t know—call it a personal research project; but um… do you know anything about valkyries?”

“Skittish aren’t you?” Phee raised a brow, amused. “I don’t know much, I haven’t made my way over to Kant’himmel yet, but I’ve heard many different iterations of the legends,” she said.

“Really?” Specter breathed, excited to know more.

“Well sure! The most common story is that they’re maidens commissioned by Death to guide those in battle, some even choose who will and won’t die,” Phee explained.

“Oh…” Specter didn’t realize how dark the legend would be, finding it gruesome how she was designed after a chooser of the slain. Her hand rested on the hilt of her axe as they walked. Phee huffed, almost in amusement.

“I could call you a valkyrie with how you carry that axe. They’re commonly thought of as one of the weapons of the valkyries, the most popular being a spear.”

That’s why her sisters had buzzed, and why it felt right to hold.

“Oh, I had just snagged it,” Specter weakly explained. “I’m no valkyrie.”

“Well, the axe may be a coincidence, but you know, in most languages, ‘valkyrie’ translates to ‘war fairy’. And I’ve heard loverboy over there,” she nodded toward Hunter, “call you a fairy.” Specter’s eyes widened, she blushed, unsure how to respond. Phee only chuckled and continued onward.

The compass beeped for them to continue, but the base of the mountain blocked their path.

“It’s a dead end,” Omega sighed in disappointment. “Maybe we go around the mountain?”

“Or it’s telling us to go inside it,” Phee muttered. She stepped forward, tracing the rock before unsheathing her cutlass and prying them out of the way. She reached into the crevice, feeling air moving inside. Specter stood on her toes to try and see what was inside, holding onto Hunter’s shoulder for support.

“Need a little help there, fairy?” Hunter whispered, teasing her. Specter scoffed and lightly smacked him.

“Big guy, help me move this,” Phee called over to Wrecker. He jogged over and helped her shove the boulders out of the way until they all came tumbling down, revealing a doorway.

“Look! It’s a secret entrance!” Omega gasped.

“Ohh, it is a secret entrance,” Wrecker repeated. Specter rolled her eyes and followed Hunter into the cavern, shining her light onto the walls, looking for any signs of instability among the rocks. The group came upon a larger chamber, cleaner than the previous path; the ground was flat, the walls carved with etchings and monolith-type stones jutting out.

“Woah!” Omega breathed in amazement.

“You said it, hun,” Specter muttered, smiling alongside her.

“Hunter, these etchings are easily a thousand years old,” Tech informed, looking over the collected data from his pad.

“Older. Much older,” Phee corrected, running a hand over the wall. “If I’m right, which is always, we are standing in the entrance way to Skara Nal,” she said, facing the group.

“To what?” Echo questioned.

“I swear you just make up half the words you say,” Specter shook her head.

“Every pirate out there’s heard the legend of Skara Nal. It traces back to the ancients,” Phee explained.

“You mean the Jedi?” Echo asked.

“No. Older.”

“So, what kinda treasure’s in there?” Wrecker asked now.

“The Heart of the Mountain. And we’re going to liberate it,” Phee answered, albeit dramatically in Specter’s opinion. She internally sighed, wondering how long they’d be here, and if their search would amount to anything.

“How do we get in?” Omega whispered. Specter followed the lines on the wall with her light, looking for any sort of clue.

“It’s a pattern,” she realized, muttering.

“You think so?” Hunter asked.

“Yeah. It’s an abstract pattern but I think all the lines are supposed to be connected,” said Specter. She brought a hand up and lightly held her shoulder, reminded of the tattoo under her armor, reminded of how a simple symbol can hold a deeper secret.

“Hmm. Well let’s try aligning the symbols,” Phee suggested, focusing on the blocks that jutted out. She shoved one into place, rotating the lower portion of the wall; one stuck out above her, just out of reach. “Some help would be nice.”

Wrecker took the cue and helped push the stone. Specter winced as the rocks ground against each other, shifting dust and rumbling the room. She nearly lost her footing when the rumbling increased, their way out closed behind them and pebbles began to fall from the ceiling. Hunter pulled Specter close and Phee pushed Wrecker out of the way as a larger boulder came crashing down.

The shaking stopped.

Wrecker coughed and groaned, Hunter rushed to check on him. Specter checked on Omega, dusting her off and ruffling her hair when the girl gave a thumbs up.

“Ugh, Specter, you know I don’t really like that anymore,” Omega reminded, smoothing her hair back into place.

“Right, sorry. Force of habit,” Specter winced in apology, partially heartbroken at the rejection. Turning back to the room, she clicked her tongue, finding that not all of the lines matched up, most likely springing the-

“Booby trap,” Phee finished Specter’s thought as she stood up and brushed herself off. “Now it’s getting interesting.”

“You’ve just trapped us in here!” Hunter accused, looking where the doorway once was.

“Relax. There’s always a way out. We just have to find it. It’s part of the puzzle,” Phee reassured.

Omega gasped a moment later.

“Wait!” she called out, holding the compass to her eye. “We’re aligning the wrong symbols!” “What do you see?” Hunter asked. Specter tilted her head in curiosity; their alignment was wrong, that much was obvious, but what did Omega see that they couldn’t?

“Some of the symbols are glowing,” Omega answered.

“Here. Lay the compass on my lantern,” Phee suggested, turning her lantern on its side and allowing the girl to place the compass on top of it. An ultraviolet glow filled the room, indeed lighting some of the symbols on the stones.

“Woah!” Wrecker exclaimed.

“Killer light show,” Specter muttered in amazement as he rotated the stones once more. She found herself correct; as the patterns on the wall began to line up and make more sense. Tech and Hunter moved the last stone into place and the room rotated again, this time revealing their exit as well as another doorway, leading further into the mountain. Specter was the first to investigate, her night-vision scope revealed the tunnel led deeper. She snapped her fingers, hearing the sound echo then disappear down the hall.

“Oh yeah, this is deep,” she announced to the rest of the group, feeling excitement creeping in.

“Mel, note the coordinates and wait here,” Phee ordered her droid, coming close. “Come on, kid. Time to go exploring,” she nodded to Omega. The girl squealed and followed her into the tunnel.

“Looks like we’re doing this,” Wrecker chuckled, following.

“My interest is certainly piqued,” Tech added, still looking at his datapad as he walked in. Echo merely paused to shrug at Hunter before entering as well. Specter hesitated, watching as Hunter turned back towards the exit and sighed; she grabbed his hand and together they ventured into the darkness.

Specter walked behind Phee and Omega with Hunter, shining her light on the walls, but mostly keeping an eye on the girl. She knew Hunter wanted to keep her safe—they all did—but with Omega growing up fast, she couldn’t be sure how long they’d be able to keep up.

“So, what exactly is the Heart of the Mountain?” Omega asked Phee.

“A rare crystalline stone,” she explained. “Some say it’s the key to an ancient power, which makes it worth more than you could possibly fathom.”

“What about the Heart of the Eternal White Point Star? Worth more than that?” Specter thought back to the copy of the jewel she had stolen.

“A lot more. And not just in monetary value,” Phee said with a wink.

“I have run a preliminary analysis of the materials in those stone slabs,” Tech began to report, trailing behind from the back. Specter wanted to listen, but noticed instead how Hunter slowed to a stop and tilted his head. ”They predate the Republic. Phee may be onto something,” Tech finished.

A fluttering sensation traveled up Specter’s spine and floated to the top of her head.

“Hey, tough guys. Want to pick up the pace?” Phee called from further ahead.

“Hunter?” Omega mumbled, watching as his hand slowly drifted toward his blaster. Dust fell from above, Specter and Wrecker trained their lights upward, finding a hole that opened into deeper darkness. But with nothing out of the ordinary, they continued onward.

A hissing growl.

They turned just as a creature stretched down from the hole and began to attack Wrecker with its maw while its claws reached and scratched at the others. Specter jumped out of the way and reached for her axe, watching as the world around her slowed, finding exactly where to strike at the monster.

Speed returned, she swung her blade and chopped off a limb and struck the side of its jaw with the eye of the weapon. The creature screeched from the impact, almost ignoring the blasterfire the Batch pelted it with. It grabbed Wrecker around his torso and ascended back into its nest, trying to pull him in as he struggled. They all watched, blasters ready and waiting for a clear shot.

Hunter took the chance and fired; the creature dropped Wrecker and screeched as more blasterfire followed suit, retreating into its cave. Rocks began to pour out from the hole, Specter barely dove out of the way in time before a pile formed, blocking their path. She hissed as the adrenaline wore off and soreness started to overtake her. It wasn’t until she stood up and dusted herself off that Specter realized Hunter, Omega, and Phee were still on the other side.

“Echo, Tech, Wrecker, Spec, are you okay?” Omega asked into the comm.

“We’re fine, but there’s too much debris,” Echo reported, waving dust away and shining his flashlight on the rocks in front of them. “We can’t get through.”

Specter sighed in defeat before searching for a solution. The low hum of wind caught her ear, she turned toward the source to find another tunnel in the wall.

“Hey, Tech,” Specter called over, pointing towards it, “This must have opened up in the collapse.” He held up his scanner.

“The readings in here are not as clear, but I can track your position,” Tech said into the comm. “There are smaller side tunnels throughout. We will navigate a path and rendezvous with you at the other end.”

“Good. then we’ll keep looking for the treasure,” Phee came in through an unsteady signal. The four of them glanced at each other, ready to trek onward with a nod. Tech led the group, but Specter hesitated, shining her light once more at the blockage.

“Hunter,” she whispered through a private channel. He beeped in reply. “Be safe, okay? And just because you don’t like Phee, doesn’t mean she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“That still doesn’t mean I trust her,” he said.

“For Omega’s sake? For mine?” He was silent as he considered Specter’s plea.

“Fine. Just be careful,” he grumbled.

Specter hummed another verse of the tune she had stuck in her head; a bar song Bolo and Ketch had—rather loudly—performed for an unwilling audience such as the Batch. She’ll admit that perhaps it was not the most appropriate setting, but in her opinion, it was better than nothing but their footsteps and the wind groaning.

“Will you stop humming that?” Echo hissed.

“Sorry! It’s catchy!”

“Great, now it’s in my head, too,” Wrecker whined. “How much further?”

“Uncertain,” Tech replied, ignoring their bantering. “Something ahead is interfering with my scans.”

“Hunter, come in,” Echo tried. “Comms are down too.”

The echo of a falling rock resounded from the other end of the tunnel; Specter instinctively rested a hand on her axe as they shone their lights.

“Did you hear that? I-it’s that thing,” Wrecker fearfully whispered.

“It’s in your head, Wrecker,” Echo brushed it off and continued following Tech. Specter was inclined to agree, she felt no other sensations of unease and pat Wrecker on the shoulder in comfort. They continued onward before they reached the end of the tunnel and the sound of soft thudding. Tech glanced back at the group, holding up his blaster. They mirrored him before slowly approaching the exit and jumping out, only finding Hunter, Omega, and Phee standing before a doorway.

“Oh. It’s you,” Specter holstered her pistol.

“What took you so long?” Hunter grumbled. Specter wanted to giggle at his grumpy tone.

“Phee thinks we’re getting close to the treasure,” Omega enthusiastically reported as Phee looked closely at the door before them. Specter and the others rejoined the group and observed Phee.

“What type of puzzle is this?” Tech wondered, standing next to her.

“Don’t overthink it, brown eyes,” she said with a smile, setting aside her lantern. “Sometimes a door’s,” she pulled on a handle, “just a door.”

Specter exhaled, trying to settle her excited nervousness as the door turned and rolled away. Behind it, a deep and cavernous chamber expanded into darkness. Specter peered over the edge, shining her light to see how far down the chamber stretched. She noted the walls bore the same pattern of lines as the pattern in the first chamber they encountered.

“There,” Phee whispered next to her. She looked up, seeing a translucent blue monolith across the room, lit up by Phee’s lantern and a soft purple glow from within. “The Heart of the Mountain.” Omega and Hunter carefully followed Phee as she entered, shuffling along a narrow path and jumping onto the platform holding the crystal. Specter tilted her head, feeling the buzzing sensation from before creep up the side of her neck as Phee twisted and carefully lifted the stone out from its base.

A second later, a rumbling came from all around. The dust within the chamber shifted and rocks in the tunnels fell.

“Go! Go!” Wrecker shouted, pushing Echo, Tech, and Specter out of the way; they held onto the lip of the entrance as the door quickly closed behind them.

“Woah!” Specter cried as the room lit up, bright white lined the patterns on the wall. The roar of rumbling and shifting metal was deafening as the entire structure seemed to activate. She struggled to hang on tight as the room shook; next to her, Echo lost his grip and although Wrecker caught him, they slid down to the floor with Tech not far behind. Specter felt like her fingers were about to snap right off, but felt relief as the chamber evened out. “Ow,” she grunted, massaging her hands.

“I suspect this is not, in fact, a treasure vault,” Tech said as they all came to their feet.

“Then what is it?” Omega questioned.

“Good question,” said Echo.

“Is this some sort of ancient Valkyrie thing?” Wrecker shouted to Specter.

“How should I know? We just got here!” she snapped before sighing. “I don’t think so. At least I’m not getting the sense that it is.” A bright light from across the room nearly blinded the group, along with a deafening hum.

“It just emitted a massive surge of energy. Whatever we are standing inside is highly destructive!” Tech reported, meeting the others on the platform.

“So what do we do to shut it down?” Wrecker asked.

“If removing the Heart of the Mountain activated it, perhaps we must return it to its proper place to deactivate it.” Phee scowled and clutched the crystal monolith tighter.

“Do you know how much this is worth? It’s what we came here for! Can’t you find a separate kill switch or something?” Phee said. Specter bit her tongue, finding the uncanny similarities in greediness between her and Cid.

“Our ship’s out there. If that thing destroys it, we’ll be trapped on this planet!” Hunter urged.

“Alright, but you owe me,” Phee sighed, giving in and holding out the stone. Before they could return it, the sound of a growl and the door being pried open caught their attention. The creature from earlier had returned with a vengeance.

“Not you again!” Specter shouted as it pushed its way inside and jumped at the group. Phee stumbled out of the way, but the crystal slipped from her grip and fell down a crevice in the floor.

“You deal with that! I’ll get the stone!” she shouted over the blaster fire, making her way downward.

“I’m right behind you!” Specter went to join her. Together they crawled down the side of the column, finding the stone teetering on a small ledge. Just as Phee reached for it, the structure shook and the stone fell down to the ground floor. The pair climbed down after it; Phee grabbed it but stumbled just as another energy surge trembled throughout. Specter watched as she juggled the crystal in her hands and fell out the window, managing to grab onto a cable at the last second.

“Phee!” Specter shouted after her. She unclipped her axe and drove it onto the floor, hooked her feet around it, and leaned out to reach for Phee. She grabbed her hand just as it slipped from the cable.

“Nice grip,” Phee complimented. Specter could only grunt in reply as she pulled her up. The two fell back against the wall, panting from the exhausting strain. “So, uh, what’s this about being a Valkyrie?”

“Don’t even,” Specter shook her head before slowly standing up and dusting herself off. “Come on. We’re not out of this yet.”

By the time they made it back up to the main room, the creature was gone, but another energy beam was on the verge of firing again. Tech stood at the control port, still trying to figure out a way to bypass it.

“Tech, the stone!” Specter shouted, holding up the stone for him to see. He shifted his stance with his arms open; she tossed it toward him, he and Omega shoved it into the port and twisted it.

Just like that, the beam powered down, but the rumbling never ceased. In fact, they did the opposite and increased. The crystal absorbed energy before it melted away. Sparks began to fly and explosions blew throughout the room. The lights went out, Specter grabbed Omega and held her close as the structure began to fall.

“Hang onto something!” Hunter shouted. The group fumbled around in the darkness, looking for any sort of cover or way to hang on. Specter drove her axe into the ground again and held onto it, an arm wrapped around Omega, protecting her head. Hunter covered them both.

With a great crash, the structure fell to the ground. The only sounds left were a few sparks and the group panting.

“Alright… anyone not alive, speak up now,” Specter said, unable to fight a smile. Exhausted chuckles broke out among the group as they helped each other up and out of the wreckage.

“This puts us at 0 for 2 in treasure hunting,” Tech said as they walked through an ‘eye’ to the outside, “even with a professional.”

“We did find the Heart of the Mountain. The legend was real,” Omega encouraged.

“Now that’s the right attitude,” said Phee.

The landscape looked even more ruined than before. Specter’s nose crinkled at the burning smell, but by the time they reached the Marauder, she had gotten used to it.

“At least no one can ever activate that thing again,” Hunter said.

“So, what you’re saying is, it’s a good thing we came after all?” Phee asked with a smile. Hunter rolled his eyes while Specter snickered.

“Sorry about Mel,” said Omega.

“This happens all the time,” Phee shrugged. “That’s why I keep Mel’s memory stored on my ship’s data bank. I’ll have her rebuilt before we head to Vadnay.”

“What’s on Vadnay” Omega wondered.

“Maybe an all-expense paid spa resort? That sounds like my kind of treasure,” said Specter, rolling her sore neck and shoulders.

“You and me both,” Echo mumbled behind her.

“I have a lead on a certain chalice. Very ancient,” Phee answered, ignoring them.

“Really?” Hunter growled, unamused.

“Legend has it the chalice once belonged to the Kingdom of Elweys,” Phee spun her tale as all but Hunter and Specter followed her back to the ship. Hunter shook his head, but the corners of his mouth rose just a little.

“Ooh, is that a smile I see?” Specter teased, poking his cheek. “Did you have fun after all? Huh? Huh?” she goaded him on. He grabbed her hand to stop her from poking his face any more.

“Quit it, you,” he scolded, albeit with a smirk. “Let’s head back to the ship before Phee manages to get us into another treasure hunt.”

Bonus scene:

Hunter gasped as the ground beneath him gave way to a void of darkness, not even two steps into the new portion of the tunnel. He twisted and shot his grappling line just in time, but he knew his anchor point was weak. Omega and Phee came running to his aid, pulling him back up.

“Thanks,” he said, catching his breath. “Can we… can we not tell Specter about that, please?”

#f!oc #star wars #star wars oc #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x oc #the bad batch #sw tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb oc #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb omega #clone force 99 #phee genoa

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buyersguides · 3 months ago

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Ever feel like finding the right car is like searching for a needle in a haystack? Well, not anymore. The key to spotting the best auto sales near you is to keep your eyes peeled for the hidden gems. Start by checking local advertisements—radio, newspapers, or even good old-fashioned flyers. Sometimes, the best deals are right under your nose but aren’t plastered all over flashy billboards. Be sure to also take note of seasonal trends. For instance, end-of-year sales or post-holiday deals can offer some real steals. Finally, don’t underestimate the value of word-of-mouth recommendations. Your neighbor’s “I got a great deal on my SUV” story might just lead you to your next ride. So, keep those ears open and your radar on high alert—you never know when your dream car might roll into view.

3. The Test Drive Tango: Why It’s Non-Negotiable

Let’s get one thing straight—no matter how much you love a car’s sleek design or impressive specs, the test drive is where the magic happens. It’s like a first date—you need to know if there’s real chemistry. During your test drive, pay attention to every detail. How does the steering feel? Is the acceleration smooth? Does the car handle like a dream or like a shopping cart with a missing wheel? These are the questions that will help you separate the winners from the “meh.” And hey, don’t forget to have a little fun with it! This is your chance to picture yourself cruising down the motorway or pulling up to the school run in style. So, turn up the radio, adjust those mirrors, and enjoy every second of your test drive tango.

4. New vs. Pre-Loved: Which Is Right for You?

Ah, the age-old question: should you go for a shiny new ride or a pre-loved gem with a story to tell? The answer depends on your needs, preferences, and, of course, your vibe. New cars come with that intoxicating “new car smell,” the latest technology, and peace of mind that you’re the first to hit the road. But don’t sleep on pre-loved cars! They’re often more budget-friendly and can still offer plenty of life and excitement. Plus, some used cars come with certified inspections and warranties, giving you the best of both worlds. Whichever you choose, remember that the right car is the one that fits your lifestyle and makes you smile every time you slide behind the wheel. After all, cars aren’t just transportation—they’re an extension of who you are.

5. Decoding the Jargon: Auto Sales Terms Made Simple

Ever feel like car salespeople are speaking a different language? You’re not alone. Let’s break down the jargon so you can walk into any auto sale feeling like a pro. First up: “Certified Pre-Owned.” This simply means the car has been inspected and approved by the manufacturer or dealer, ensuring quality. Then there’s “Mileage,” which refers to how far the car has been driven—lower mileage often means less wear and tear. And don’t forget “Trim Level,” which describes the different versions of a car model. Think of it as ordering a coffee—basic, extra foam, or double shot with whipped cream. Once you’ve mastered these terms, you’ll be chatting like an auto insider in no time.

6. Seasonal Sizzle: When to Shop for the Best Deals

Timing is everything, especially when it comes to auto sales near you. Certain times of the year are prime for snagging unbeatable deals, so let’s break it down. End-of-year sales are a no-brainer. Dealers are eager to clear out inventory to make room for next year’s models, which means you can often score major discounts. The same goes for holiday weekends—think Boxing Day or Easter specials. If you’re not in a rush, consider waiting for the end of the month. Salespeople often have quotas to meet, so they’re more likely to sweeten the deal as the clock ticks down. Timing your purchase just right could make all the difference.

7. Green Machines: The Rise of Eco-Friendly Cars

If you’re dreaming of a car that’s as kind to the planet as it is to your wallet, now’s the time to dive into the world of eco-friendly options. From hybrids to fully electric vehicles (EVs), the green machine revolution is here to stay. Hybrid cars combine a traditional engine with an electric motor, offering improved fuel efficiency without sacrificing performance. Meanwhile, EVs run entirely on electricity, making them a zero-emission option that’s perfect for eco-conscious drivers. And let’s be real—there’s something undeniably cool about cruising around in a car that’s paving the way for a cleaner, greener future. So, why not explore the eco-friendly options at auto sales near you? Mother Earth will thank you.

8. Customizing Your Ride: Make It Uniquely Yours

Who says your car can’t be as unique as you are? Customizing your ride is a fantastic way to add a personal touch and make your vehicle feel truly yours. Start with the basics, like seat covers or floor mats that match your style. Then, level up with tech upgrades—think dash cams, Bluetooth systems, or even a swanky new sound system. Don’t forget the exterior! From alloy wheels to racing stripes (if that’s your thing), the possibilities are endless. Your car isn’t just a mode of transportation—it’s an expression of your personality. So, go ahead and make it shine!

9. Car Shopping for Families: Tips for Finding the Perfect Fit

Families, this one’s for you. Shopping for a car when you’ve got little ones (or not-so-little ones) in tow comes with its own set of challenges. But fear not—we’ve got you covered. First, prioritize space. Whether it’s a roomy SUV or a versatile hatchback, you’ll need enough room for car seats, luggage, and the occasional football kit. Safety features are a must, so look for options with top-notch crash test ratings and advanced driver-assist technology. Finally, think about durability. Kids can be messy (hello, snack crumbs), so opt for easy-to-clean interiors and reliable materials that can withstand the chaos of family life. Happy kids, happy car—what’s not to love?

10. Auto Sales Etiquette: How to Negotiate Like a Pro

Negotiation can feel intimidating, but it’s a skill worth mastering. The good news? It’s not as scary as it seems. Start by doing your homework. Research the car’s average market value so you know what’s reasonable to ask for. Then, be polite but firm—it’s all about striking the right balance between friendly and confident. And here’s a pro tip: don’t be afraid to walk away if the deal doesn’t feel right. Sometimes, stepping back can lead to better offers down the line. Remember, you’re in the driver’s seat—literally and figuratively. Auto sales near you aren’t just about buying a car—they’re about finding the perfect partner for life’s adventures. So, whether you’re chasing the thrill of a new ride or the charm of a pre-loved gem, this guide has everything you need to hit the road with confidence. Happy car hunting! 🚗 - Editors Choice -

- For a list of our main buyers guides use the drop-down menu at the top of the page. Topics related to this article are: Car Finance Buyers Guides Buyers Guides Homepage - Read the full article

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larkawolfgirl · 4 months ago

Text

Where We Belong

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M, Multi

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia

Additional Tags: Dom/sub, Master Play, Cheating, Insecurity, Accidental Voyeurism, Confrontations, Punishment, Flogging, Polyamory Negotiations

Summary: The entire dynamic of their friend group is shaken when Noctis makes a bad decision.

read on ao3

Ignis’ thoughts were as meticulously arranged as the silverware on the table as he ran through the list of the day’s obligations. With the table set to perfection, the next order of business was waking the prince.

He gently pushed open the door, revealing the dim room and the bundled mound in the middle of the bed.

"Good morning," Ignis called out tenderly as he reached him.

Affection tugged at Ignis’ heart as he observed the way Noctis stirred but burrowed further into the sheets, attempting to remain asleep.

“Come now. You have work to do, and your breakfast is getting cold,” Ignis urged with a patient smile.

"Just five more minutes," Noctis mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

Ignis sighed. “You may not be on a schedule today, but I am afraid I am.”

Suddenly, Noctis’ eyes opened. “Come on, Specs.” He tugged on his arm, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips. “There’s plenty of room for you too.”

Ignis’ resolve wavered momentarily, knowing that Noctis’ invitation was equally that of sleep or something more.

He kept his voice steady despite the warmth spreading over his skin. “I appreciate the offer, Highness, but I’m afraid I must decline.”

Noctis sat up fully. The sheets pooled at his waist, revealing his bare chest. "Are you sure you can't stay just a few minutes?" he teased in a sultry tone designed to weaken even the most steadfast of hearts.

Ignis’ eyes traced the lines of his torso, but he managed to keep his mind clear. They both knew that if he climbed into bed with him, they would be there far longer than a few minutes. "As tempting as your offer may be, I do not have the luxury of an idle morning. Now, please, get dressed and come eat your breakfast,” he said with a firmer yet still affectionate tone.

Following him to the kitchen, the prince slid into his seat at the table and began picking out pieces of green pepper from his scrambled eggs.

Ignis sighed into his steaming cup of Ebony. “Do try to eat some of your vegetables, Highness.”

Noctis gave him a cheeky grin. “I will when you stop calling me that.”

“Noctis.” He elongated his name before hardening his voice. “Eat your green peppers.”

To his relief, Noctis did take a small bite before moving on to his bacon. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

Ignis set his mug down on the counter. "I've already eaten. I am merely waiting for Gladiolus to arrive before taking my leave.”

Noctis pouted his lips. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Your actions last weekend would beg to differ. We cannot have you sneaking out to the arcade with Prompto yet again.”

“So, I’m not allowed to have any fun?”

“That is not what I am saying. However, your studies cannot be neglected, nor can your royal duties. I have allotted free time into your schedule, however, to earn it you must be on-task with your duties,” he explained, approaching the table with softening eyes. “I know these restrictions must feel…stifling at times. But please understand, everything I do is in your best interest.”

“I know. It’s just…sometimes I feel like I’m suffocating under all the expectations. What if I don’t live up to yours—everyone’s?”

Ignis placed his hand over his. “Let me be your life jacket then. Follow my guidance, and everything will be alright. I will always be here to lighten the load. And if you somehow still fail, the blame shall fall upon my shoulders.”

Warmth glowed in Noctis’ eyes, showing that he recognized all the effort Ignis put into minimizing his obligations. He covered Ignis’ hand with his free one. “I don’t show it enough, but I appreciate everything you do for me, Iggy.”

“I live to serve.”

A sharp knock interrupted them. Ignis answered the door, greeting their mutual friend with a nod. “Good morning, Gladio.”

“Morning,” the shield replied. He met Ignis’ gaze only briefly before searching for Noctis out of reflex.

Ignis gave an approving smile. Assured by the shield’s consistent reliability, he approached Noctis once more. "Remember the rules. No leaving the apartment and stay focused. If you behave, you may earn yourself a reward upon my return," Ignis promised quietly.

"Have a good day, Iggy," Noctis murmured before pushing himself up to steal a soft kiss which conveyed gratitude and perhaps even a hint of apology for the rebellious streak that so often tested Ignis’ patience.

A moment later, Ignis turned away, his movements precise and sure. He paused at the door, casting a final meaningful glance at Noctis, and then Gladio. “Farewell; enjoy your day.”

The soft click of the front door shifted the atmosphere. Immediately, Noctis dropped his shoulders and slouched in his chair, a small sigh escaping him at the temporary liberty. He watched as the tension eased out of Gladio as well. He slumped onto the couch cushions, resting his head back on the top of the pillows.

"Careful," Noctis teased. “Don't get too comfortable there. I might have a few surprises up my sleeve."

Gladio looked up, meeting Noctis' gaze with a raised eyebrow, his eyes twinkling with amusement and challenge. "Oh?" he rumbled, his deep voice offering both a retort and an invitation. "I want to see you try getting anything past me."

“What if we do something together instead of me getting it past you?”

“Nice try, but you’ve got work to do. You know Iggy would have my hide if I let you slack off.”

Noctis felt a pang of disappointment. “Ugh. Why is it such a big deal? Can’t I just do half and the rest tomorrow?”

“Because those meeting minutes aren’t going to read themselves, and you always have a harder time staying focused on your studies on Sundays.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he grumbled. On his way to the wooden desk, he noticed that his cellular biology textbook and weekly minutes were already set out for him.

With a theatrical groan, he flopped into the plush chair. His eyes scanned the first page of the biology chapter half-heartedly, his mind distracted by the presence of his shield.

Gladio was a picture of sex appeal as he stretched himself out over the couch. The ink of his eagle tattoo peeked out where the bottom of his shirt rode up. The raunchy cover of his romance novel—featuring a beautiful couple barely clothed in anything—did not help either.

The plastic of the base of the chair complained as Noctis shifted his weight. He tapped a pen against the table’s edge to each word he read to help him stay focused. Still, his gaze kept wandering back to Gladio.

"Hey, Gladio," he called out, breaking the silence. “Did you know the human body has over 600 muscles?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively. "I bet you could give me a hands on demonstration on muscle control."

Gladio’s lips twitched, fighting back a smile. "Focus on the book. That’s what you’re being tested on, not my muscles."

He diligently flipped to the next page, but barely five minutes passed before he spoke up again. “Did you know adrenaline increases heart rate? Kinda like when—"

"Kinda like when you're running late and have to dash to make it on time?" Gladio cut in, redirecting the conversation skillfully while maintaining the semblance of casual banter. He was used to this game they played with each other. Hinting but never tangible. "Stay on track, Noct."

“You’re no fun,” Noctis complained as he bent over the textbook once more. His resolve to focus, however, was as thin as the pages he pretended to absorb.

He was bored. But more than that, he was tired of treading on the edge of their chemistry.

“Can you help me with this? The cellular respiration cycle just isn’t clicking.”

“Sure thing, princess,” Gladio responded immediately.

His quick acceptance brought to mind an image of him helping tutor Iris. Noctis smiled as he made his way over to the couch where the larger man had sat up to give him space.

“See, right here,” he murmured, pointing to a diagram.

As Gladio leaned in to look at the book, Noctis casually placed a hand on his arm, allowing his fingers to brush over the muscles in his forearm.

The shield eyed the hand on him with a touch of wariness before looking back at the diagram. “Alright, let’s break it down then.” He began explaining with a steady voice, but his posture was stiff as he tried to maintain a professional demeanor.

Noctis listened, but he was acutely aware of the warmth radiating from Gladio's body. His voice lowered to an intimate hush, carrying with it a deliberate sultriness that was hard to ignore. "What’s after glycolysis? The Krebs cycle?"

"Yes. It's a series of reactions that generate—"

"Energy," Noctis interjected, his eyes half-lidded as he touched Gladio’s chest. He could feel the rapid beating of Gladio’s heart beneath his palm.

“Noct,” he said, his voice a low warning. “We shouldn’t—”

No, they shouldn’t. But their chemistry was too much for him to ignore. Feigning innocence, he asked, “Shouldn’t what? I’m just trying to understand biology better.”

The atmosphere of the room was palpable, crackling like electricity between them. Gladio's internal struggle was evident in the tightness of his shoulders and the conflict in his warm brown eyes.

Gladio shifted, a slight, almost imperceptible movement in his seat, but one that spoke volumes. Noctis could feel the tension coiling in the space between them, a tangible force that seemed to draw tighter with each passing second.

In one fluid and intentional motion, Noctis closed the scant distance that Gladio had painstakingly maintained. The warmth of Gladio’s body seeped through their clothes, igniting a fire in Noctis’ veins. His eyes sparkled with a silent dare.

Noctis observed the conflict etched across Gladio's features—the tense set of his jaw, the white of his clenched knuckles.

With a sly grin, Noctis leaned closer, his breath a warm whisper against his ear. "Are you really going to let me get away with this?" The velvet caress of his voice sent a shudder through Gladio.

"Damn it, Noct," he growled, his voice strained. However, his body betrayed the first signs of yielding as his hands came to rest on Noctis’ hips.

“Come on,” Noctis whispered. “Don’t you want to have a little fun?”

Gladio’s voice was hoarse with the effort of his restraint. “We can’t betray Ignis’ trust like this.”

Noctis knew it was wrong. But he couldn’t help feeling this way.

“Besides, if you’re just looking for a good time, Ignis is more than capable of taking care of you when he returns.”

But that wasn’t what Noctis wanted. At least, not entirely.

Guilt churned in his stomach at his selfishness. But he needed this, at least once. The flirtatiousness fell from his face, replaced by the serious longing he was feeling. Fear prickled at him for revealing even this much, but Gladio’s hand tenderly cupped his cheek.

Noctis saw his longing mirrored back to him in Gladio’s eyes. Brimming with renewed confidence, he straddled Gladio’s lap, ignoring the clatter of the textbook falling to the floor.

"Can't we have just a little fun while he's away?" Noctis settled deeper, the fabric of his jeans whispering against Gladio's. Their proximity erased the world beyond their shared breaths, the room dissolving into a hazy backdrop as blue eyes locked with brown in a silent conversation. Noctis' gaze held an intensity that stripped away the layers of playfulness to reveal the raw need underneath.

Gladio’s resolve finally shattered. With a low growl, he cupped the back of Noctis's neck and pulled him into a kiss that captured years of repressed longing in a single moment.

Noctis responded eagerly, his fingers threading through Gladio's hair as he pressed closer. The kiss deepened, both men losing themselves in the heat of the moment.

Gladio’s hands, calloused from years of training, roamed Noctis's back, his touch firm yet cautious, as if still battling his conscience.

“Relax, big guy.”

“But—”

Noctis silenced him with a finger to his lips. “It’s okay. Even if Specs finds out, he’ll forgive us…eventually.” That’s what he had to believe.

“You can’t know that for sure.”

“I do. He loves both of us.”

“That’s why I’m worried. He trusts us.”

Noctis’ chest tightened at the truth of his words. He gave a hopeful smile. “Life’s too short not to take a few risks, though, right?”

As their lips met once more, guilt lingered, but the warmth remained, pulling them in like a gravitational force.

For a suspended moment, the world was theirs. Until the click of the door alerted them that their time was up.

Ignis stood rooted in the doorway. His eyes were wide with shock as he took in the image of his boyfriend kissing his best friend. He almost wished his meeting had not been canceled so he would not have had to learn of their transgression. Hurt, betrayal, and disbelief flickered across his face. With each erratic pulse of his heart, he fought to reclaim his composure.

Noctis scrambled off Gladio’s lap, his face noticeably flushed with both guilt and lingering desire.

As his initial shock subsided, replaced by a cold clarity, Ignis's stance shifted. His spine straightened and shoulders squared as he donned the mask of the stern authoritarian to protect himself from the raw ache that gnawed at his insides.

Sensing the implications of Ignis’ stance, Noctis’ blue eyes widened with an edge of dread, no doubt realizing the magnitude of their indiscretion.

Gladio's gaze snapped to attention—a soldier recognizing the command of his superior. Guilt painted both of their expressions.

“Ignis, I—”

Ignis held up a hand, silencing the prince. Regardless of seeking answers to the many questions running through his mind, Ignis did not believe he could trust anything either of them said right now. He needed to enact a fitting punishment, for all their sakes. As much as the pain stung in his eyes, he would release it in another way.

Ignis’ voice sliced the silence like a blade, cold and unyielding. “I must say, I’m deeply disappointed in both of you.”

“I know—” Gladio started.

“Did I give you permission to speak?” Ignis interrupted, tone sharp. “Your actions have consequences.”

To his surprise, both Noctis' and Gladio’s gazes remained locked with his, showing their acceptance.

“You will both receive twenty strokes. Enter the bedroom, remove your shirts, and kneel.”

The air was charged with unspoken understanding, a recognition of the delicate balance between them.

Ignis stood resolute, his eyes never leaving the two men closest to him in the world as they followed his orders. While he took no pleasure in the necessity of the punishment, he would act as the guardian whose fierce love would deliver redemption.

Noctis swallowed hard as he knelt on the floor beside Gladio. The hardwood was a welcome ache. Part of him wanted to beg for Gladio’s pardon, but a deeper part of him knew they both deserved this.

They had hurt Ignis. And now they needed to be hurt in return.

“Count them out, Noctis.”

“Yes, Ignis,” he replied, surprised by the steadfastness of his voice.

He could hear the flogger swish through the air before it struck with a firm, corrective stroke. This was not the first time he had felt this sensation, but there was no excitement from these strokes, and it was a fraction harder, a testament to Ignis’ genuine anger.

“One,” he counted, voice strained.

He heard the flogger strike a second time, and eyed Gladio from his periphery. The man remained impassive as if he felt no pain at all.

Heat rose with the second strike, mingling with the ache of the first. With each strike, his emotions swelled with the pain.

He hated himself for causing this. Gladio would have never broken if he had not pushed so hard. What if this ruined their friendship?

Ignis paused after the fifth strike. “You both knew the rules, yet you chose to disregard them.”

“I take full responsibility,” Gladio said. “You put your trust in me, and I broke it.”

“It is as you say. You have always been unwavering in your duty. But today you faltered. Trust is not easily earned, and nearly impossible to rebuild.”

Noctis flinched at the implications of his words. “It was me,” he pleaded. “I pushed things too far.”

There was a moment of silence before Ignis finally spoke. “Thank you for your honesty, but Gladiolus still must pay the price of his actions.”

“But—”

It was Gladio who cut him off this time, his voice nearly as firm as Ignis’. “Six.”

The flogger resumed its ascent. The burning ache in Noctis’ upper back radiated outward. As the discomfort intensified, so did a strange release, as if there wasn’t enough space to hold both the pain and guilt inside. It seeped out of him without warning.

“Ten.” The word came out in a shaky gasp.

He could hear footsteps. Then Ignis was gazing down at his face, taking in the tears streaking down his cheeks. He saw the flash of hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt either of you.”

“Color,” Ignis ordered, but his voice was quieter than usual, obviously second guessing his decision of punishment.

Noctis sucked in a breath, meeting his gaze resolutely. “Green.”

Ignis nodded, turning. “Gladio?”

“Green.”

Ignis nodded before moving back into position to continue.

Prompto rapped his knuckles against the door. He waited, but no answer came. Even Noctis wouldn’t be sleeping at this time of day. He tested the door handle, finding that it was unlocked. Pushing the door open a bit, he called inside, “Hey, guys, anyone home? Cor wanted me to tell Ignis when today’s meeting’s been rescheduled since he wasn’t answering his phone.”

The lights were on, and he saw Gladio’s shoes in the entranceway, but no one was in his line of sight. He started toward Ignis’ halfway open bedroom door. He opened his mouth to call out again, but the words died in his throat.

A sharp crack cut through the air, followed by a muffled cry. Prompto froze, his cheerful demeanor evaporating instantly.

"Being under house arrest does not give you the right to do whatever you please within these walls. This is what you deserve for being disloyal and disrespectful." Ignis’ voice was cold and authoritative in a way that sent shivers down Prompto’s spine.

Another crack, another stifled sound of pain.

Prompto's heart hammered against his ribs as he crept forward. What the hell was going on? It had to be some sort of joke.

He peered inside the bedroom, and everything he thought he knew about his friends shattered.

Noctis was there, kneeling against the far wall, his shoulders a canvas of angry red welts. Ignis stood behind him, a leather flogger gripped tightly in his hand. And beside Noctis was Gladio, in a similar stance and predicament.

Prompto's mouth went dry, his mind reeling as he tried to process the scene before him. Caring Ignis hurting his best friends. Noctis, who constantly complained of chronic pain, willingly submitting to it. And Gladiolus, badass tank of a man, allowing himself to be put in his place.

It didn’t make sense.

"W—what the hell is this?" The question came out raw with betrayal.

There was a start as they realized they had been caught. Alarm sat in Gladio’s eyes, but Noctis’ was full of shame at being seen this way. For his credit, Ignis appeared unflustered.

“Prompto,” the advisor began, his voice no longer edged with the severity from a moment before. “I’m afraid you’ve arrived at an…inopportune time.” He cleared his throat, set the flogger down, and adjusted his glasses.

“It would seem so. Apparently, I was never meant to know about any of this.” Prompto was surprised at the extent of anger in his voice. He had thought he knew these men, and known his place within their friend group. Now, he had no idea.

Grimacing, Noctis stepped forward. "Prom, it's not what you think—"

"Oh really?" Prompto's laugh was brittle. "Because it looks like my best friend's getting flogged by his advisor while his bodyguard watches. Please, tell me what I'm missing here!"

Gladio bowed his head at the accusing words. “It’s complicated.”

Noctis looked ready to sink into the floor. “Prom, I…didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Did you even want me to find out at all? Because not only am I the only one of your friends you aren’t fucking, but I’m also the only one not to know about it.”

“I wanted to tell you.”

Prompto's hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, torn between the urge to run and the desperate need for answers. “Then why didn’t you?”

Ignis cut in before Noctis could answer. “Perhaps we should move this to the living room.”

Prompto almost argued, but then he decided better of it. He didn’t want to be near that flogger any longer than necessary.

He made his way there first while the others lingered in the bedroom for a minute. When they exited, Noctis and Gladio had redressed themselves and were taking small sips from plastic water bottles. Recognizing the importance of this conversation, everyone chose to stand. The trio chose to cluster opposite him. It was a horrible representation of how estranged he felt.

Once again, Ignis was the one to break the silence. “I assure you everything we do is consensual.”

That was a relief. But it did nothing to dispel the hurt welling up inside him. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’m supposed to be your best friend, Noct.”

“The fault lies with me, Prompto,” Ignis continued. “I told him not to tell anyone about our relationship, given its unique nature.”

“Because of whatever that was, or because you’re all fucking?” Without me, he didn’t add.

Ignis’ lips twitched. “Because of the…guidance I provide for Noct. To clarify, Noctis and I are a couple. However, Gladiolus is not involved with either of us romantically nor sexually.”

“Then how come he could know but I couldn’t? It isn’t like you had to tell me about all this,” he waved his hand, “but I deserved to know you two are dating. Am I that untrustworthy?”

"Of course not. But this was a private matter. The only reason Gladio has been privy to some details is because of his close association with Noctis.”

And Prompto’s not close?

“But that was more than just being ‘privy to some information’.” He made air quotes around the word privy. His gaze moved to Gladio. “Why the hell would you allow him to do that to you when you have nothing to gain from it?”

“I act as a…support,” he said gruffly. “Normally, I just make sure Noct here’s staying in line. However, today I crossed a line.” There was a beat of pause. “What you saw…it was necessary.”

Prompto could tell he didn’t want to explain further. He would respect his privacy, but it still hurt. Knowing that he was still in the dark.

“Fine,” he huffed. “But what about you, Noct? Why would you want to be hurt when you deal with enough chronic pain already?”

Noctis scrunched his face. “I don’t really know. It…helps sometimes. Knowing it’s a different kind of pain…And like Gladio said, today was…necessary.”

It still didn’t make sense to him. How could adding pain to pain help anything? But Prompto could see the way Noctis was struggling to express himself. If only the situation wasn’t so far removed from anything he had experienced before.

Of course, he knew about these types of relationships. But weren’t those people…different? Masochists going around looking for pain and sadists always looking for their next outlet. He had always thought he would somehow know if someone was into that, as if a radar would go off in his head or something. Learning that his long-term crush was not only already in a relationship but that it was “unique” was nearly too much for his brain to handle.

Ignis stepped in, his voice calm and measured. "I understand Noct's explanation may not be entirely satisfactory. These dynamics can be...complex. However, I want to assure you that scenes such as what you witnessed are rare. More than anything, our dynamic is about trust, balance, and control."

Prompto nodded slowly as he processed this information. “Alright,” he said, voice coming out barely a whisper, his anger dissipated.

Ignis stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Prompto’s shoulder. "Perhaps we should all take a moment to collect ourselves," he suggested.

"It's just... a lot to take in, you know?" His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his vest. "I mean, I always knew you were close, but this is...different."

"I sense there's more weighing on your mind. Please, feel free to express any thoughts or concerns you may have. We're here to listen."

“I get what you’re saying, but I still don’t get why you couldn’t trust me? The words tumbled out, full of hurt. "I mean, I get it's private and all, but...we're supposed to be best friends, right?" His gaze settled on Noctis, a mix of confusion and betrayal in his eyes.

His hand fell onto the wristband on his arm, feeling the weight of the brand that lay beneath it. If they couldn’t trust him with this then they’d never trust him if they ever found out.

"Finding out like this...makes me feel like I'm not as important to you guys as I thought." Of course, he wasn’t. He was just the random pleb who latched onto the prince for company. He let out a nervous laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I mean, I can keep a secret! I wouldn't have told anyone."

Noctis stepped forward, both physically and metaphorically bridging the gap between them. "You're right. We should've told you—I should've told you." He squeezed Prompto's shoulder gently. "You're my best friend, and I never meant to make you feel left out.” His voice grew steadier. “I promise, from now on, we’ll tell you everything. You're important to me—to all of us. And I'm sorry I made you doubt that."

Gladio stepped forward as well. "That goes for me too. I should've pushed to tell you. That's on me too." Gladio's brown eyes met Prompto's, conveying sincerity. "You're just as much a part of this group as any of us.”

Prompto let go of his wristband.

"I believe we've made significant progress today," Ignis said with a softer tone. "However, I think it would be prudent for us all to take some time to process the events of the day."

“Y—yeah,” Prompto agreed. “Probably do us some good, huh? Give us a chance to clear our heads.” He mustered a small smile as he headed for the door. "Thanks, guys," he said, his smile growing a bit more confident. "For, you know, finally being honest and stuff."

Noctis returned the smile, relief evident in his blue eyes. "No more secrets, Prom. We mean it."

He couldn’t promise the same, his secret too large to reveal. As he headed towards the door, he turned back one last time. "So, uh, see you guys soon then?"

Ignis nodded, his expression warm. "Indeed. Take care."

With a subdued wave, Prompto stepped out, closing the door behind him. As he walked down the hallway, he knew that he had a lot of thoughts to sort out before he could follow their lead.

Gladio and Prompto’s departure left an oppressive silence in its wake. Ignis stood frozen, his gaze lingering on the closed door. Slowly, he turned to find Noctis looking smaller somehow.

Ignis took a measured breath and adjusted his glasses. “I believe we need to discuss what transpired with Gladio."

Noctis did not meet his gaze. “What do you want to know?”

“What prompted you to act out in such a manner?”

Noctis shifted, his feet scuffing against the hardwood floor. "It wasn't..." Noctis faltered. Ignis waited, the air between them charged with expectation and the unsaid. “I just wanted to have some fun.”

The forced humor was hollow. “Tell me the truth, Noct. I need to understand your actions, not just address them. Do not make me force it out of you.”

Noctis’ shoulders tensed.

Ignis leaned forward, his voice gentler. “I wish to understand. I want to support you, not hurt you. But I can only do that if you are honest with me.”

"I know,” he murmured. "I’m just...scared to tell you."

Ignis's expression softened slightly, his eyes searching Noctis's face. "Why are you scared?”

“Because I already hurt you. I don’t want to make it worse.”

“I appreciate your consideration, but I need to hear this, regardless of the aftermath.”

Noctis' shoulders slumped, the weight of his confession pulling him down. He knew Ignis deserved the truth, but the fear of hurting him further gnawed at him. He kept his eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet Ignis's gaze as he spoke. "It wasn't just a game," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I...I want to be with him."

"Why did you feel the need to go behind my back instead of telling me?" Ignis’ voice was carefully neutral.

Noctis let out a bitter laugh. "Because I thought I could at least get some fun out of it before you shut it down.” Noctis’ figure seemed to fold over himself as if to shield his heart from the possibility. “And he couldn’t hurt me.”

Ignis’ heart responded to the raw honesty displayed before him. The fear of rejection and loss was evident. "Oh, Noct," he murmured, stepping closer. With immense tenderness, he pulled his charge into the safety of his arms.

For a moment, Noctis's body tensed before he relaxed into the offered comfort.

"I'm sorry, Iggy," he whispered into his shirt. "I promise I won't do it again."

Ignis sighed, his breath ruffling Noctis’ dark hair. "I won't ask that of you," he reassured with unwavering conviction. “As much as I control your actions, I will never restrict you. Your health and happiness will always be my top concern.”

"You don’t mind?" Noctis’ voice was small and uncertain.

"I'm not pleased with the deception," Ignis admitted, "but I understand your fears. I only wish you had trusted me enough to be honest from the start."

“Me too. I never wanted to hurt you, or your guys’ friendship.”

Ignis kissed the top of Noctis’ dark hair. “No more fear, love. Gladiolus and I will be fine.”

Noctis' body relaxed incrementally, the tension wrought from secrets and fears ebbing away under Ignis's gentle hold.

"Iggy...I love you," he murmured, the words muffled but heartfelt.

Ignis' arms tightened around him, one hand cradling the back of Noctis's head. "I love you too, Noct."

The training hall echoed with the rhythmic thud of fists against punching bags. Gladio's powerful strikes reverberated through the room, while Prompto hit with quicker, lighter jabs. Unspoken words hung heavy in the air.

Prompto stole glances at Gladio. He parted his mouth several times, but was unsure how to breach the subject weighing on both their minds.

Sensing Prompto's unease, Gladio finally broke the silence. "You gonna say what's on your mind, or are we just gonna dance around it all day?"

Prompto steadied the swinging bag with both hands. "I don't even know where to start," he admitted, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. "Yesterday was...a lot."

"Yeah," Gladio grunted, landing one final, powerful blow before turning to face Prompto. "It was."

Prompto reached for his water bottle, taking a prolonged drink to buy time, his mind churning with the question that had been haunting him since the night before.

“What exactly did you guys do to piss Iggy off like that?”

Gladio's jaw tightened, his broad shoulders tensing visibly. "I kissed Noct.”

Prompto’s mouth opened slightly in surprise. “You…what?”

A wry chuckle escaped Gladio's lips, the sound laced with resignation. "I'd be surprised too if it hadn't been an inevitable outcome," he said, shaking his head.

The humor in Gladio's voice did little to ease the tension that Prompto felt coiling in his gut. He had spent the entire night trying to comprehend how Gladio was both involved yet not involved in their relationship. But now…“But Ignis.”

Gladio’s expression sobered. “That’s the point. We broke his trust yesterday. We had to face the consequences of our actions.” He ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “Thing is, I’ve always felt pulled toward Noct, you know? Iggy’s my best friend, and he loves him. I respect that. But it doesn’t change how I feel.”

Prompto's brow furrowed as he absorbed Gladio's words, his own feelings for Noctis bubbling to the surface. He bit his lip, gaze dropping to the floor as he wrestled with the new complexity of their situation. His heart quickened, torn between jealousy and a strange, unexpected hope.

"I think you should tell Ignis," Prompto finally said. "If it were me, I'd want to know. And honestly? I don't think Iggy would be as angry if he understood your reasons."

"You think?" he asked, a mix of hope and skepticism in his tone.

Prompto nodded, a small, encouraging smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, I do. He’s reasonable. Maybe he won’t be thrilled, but he’ll understand. Ignis cares about you both, right? I think he'd appreciate the honesty."

As he spoke, Prompto knew he needed to be honest as well. He felt a twinge of regret for not being brave enough to admit his feelings for Noctis sooner. Now, everything was more complicated.

"You're right," Gladio said finally, his deep voice resonating with resolve. "Honesty is probably what's best. Look what secrecy did to you. We can’t hold anything back anymore.”

Prompto gave a mute nod, the tightness in his chest loosening just a fraction. "Thanks for telling me... about how you feel about Noct. It can't be easy."

"It's not. But it feels good to talk about it."

Prompto nodded in agreement, determined to speak up himself. But first, he needed to decide if he was willing to enter such a complicated relationship dynamic.

Gladio's heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway as he neared Noctis' apartment. His heart thudded as he anticipated how the impending conversation may go. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before knocking on the door.

"It's open," Ignis' voice called out.

Gladio pushed the door open and stepped inside. Both Ignis and Noctis were waiting for him, their expressions unreadable yet charged with an intensity that made his breath catch.

"Uh, hey guys," Gladio said, his usual confidence faltering. "I wasn't expecting both of you."

Ignis stood near the center of the room, his posture impeccable as always. "Gladio, we've been waiting for you."

Gladio had come prepared for Ignis' disappointment or anger, but this...felt different.

"Look, I can explain," Gladio started, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Noctis has already explained the situation to me," Ignis interrupted, adjusting his glasses. "That's precisely why we're here."

Noctis shifted ever so slightly.

"I'm not sure I follow," Gladio admitted.

“Noctis,” Ignis said, voice smooth yet commanding. “Approach Gladio.”

Gladio's breath caught in his throat. "Iggy, what—"

"You seem nervous, big guy," Noctis teased, closing the distance between them. "Scared of little ol' me?"

Gladio scoffed, trying to maintain his composure. "You wish, princess."

But internally, Gladio's thoughts whirled. What game were they playing? And more importantly, how was he supposed to respond? His gaze flicked to Ignis, seeking guidance, but the advisor's face remained unreadable.

As Noctis drew nearer, Gladio could feel the heat radiating from his body. He gulped, keenly aware of Ignis's piercing gaze upon them both.

Noctis stopped mere inches away, close enough that the shield could feel the prince's breath on his skin. A cocky smirk played on Noctis's lips as he tilted his head up, meeting Gladio's conflicted gaze.

Gladio's fists clenched at his sides, his heart racing. He wanted to reach out, to pull Noctis close, but Ignis' presence held him back. His voice came out rougher than intended. "I don't understand. What is going on?"

Noctis smirk caused heat to churn in his lower abdomen. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Gladio's gaze darted to Ignis again, searching for any sign of disapproval, but the advisor's expression remained neutral, almost expectant. Confusion and desire warred within Gladio's mind.

"I thought...after yesterday..." Gladio stammered, uncharacteristically flustered. "Iggy, are you really okay with this?"

Noctis chuckled, drawing Gladio's attention back to him. "Why don't you find out?" he challenged, leaning in even closer.

Gladio's breath hitched. Was this really happening? Or was he about to make a terrible mistake?

His hand reached out, splaying around the prince’s lower back before he caught himself, acutely aware of both Noctis's expectant gaze and Ignis's unwavering attention.

When neither of them moved, Ignis’ voice cut through the air like crackles of electricity. “Kiss him.”

Gladio didn’t know who he was speaking to, but Noctis pushed forward immediately, closing the little space between them. The contact sent a jolt through Gladio’s body. Like flint against steel, a fire burned away his remaining concerns. Their arms encircled each other as if bridging the gap they had been forced to forge.

Noctis’ fingernails scraped down the sensitive skin at the back of his head, and the dam of Gladio’s emotions broke. He claimed Noctis’ mouth with intensity, kissing what he couldn’t put into words. Eager fingers continued to scrape over his skin. And Gladio wondered—hoped—that he was trying to convey the same thing he was.

Noctis broke the kiss, chuckling after he had caught his breath. “Slow down, there, big guy. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gladio's grip on Noctis softened, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw with tenderness while Noctis soothed over Gladio’s broad shoulders.

“Tell me I’m not imagining this to be more than it is,” Noctis said, looking surprisingly timid for someone who had so often flaunted flirtations.

“You think I’d do something like that to Iggy just to get my dick pickled?”

Noctis laughed. “I suppose not. For the record, I may be a brat sometimes, but I’d never do that either.”

Gladio met Ignis’ gaze, silently seeking guidance. The advisor nodded, a softer edge to his features now.

Gladio rubbed his thumb over Noctis’ cheek. “Noct, you’ve had my heart almost as long as you’ve had my life.”

Noctis pressed their lips together again, but it was sweeter this time. They had danced around each other for so long, always afraid of taking too close a step, but now, nothing stood in the way.

Suddenly, Ignis cleared his throat. He took a step forward, his green eyes warm behind his glasses. “You have my explicit permission to explore this relationship between you in any way you see fit. Within reason, of course.”

Gratitude blossomed in Gladio’s chest. “Thank you so much, Specs.”

“Yeah, thanks again, Iggy.”

Ignis returned his smile. “You are welcome. I only wish for you both to be happy.” He folded his hands in front of his chest, face taking on a more enticing expression. “That being said, I believe some guidance may be in order.”

Gladio’s lips blazed a trail down Noctis’ naked flesh. The prince arched into his touch, his hips bucking upward, wanting more and more—until there was nothing left for him to want for.

As perceptive as always, Ignis’ velvety voice spoke for him. “Our prince seems eager to take things up a notch.”

Gladio paused, looking at Noctis for confirmation.

Pulling him closer, Noctis whispered, “Yes, gods yes. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

With renewed vigor, Gladio’s hands drove him wild, torturing foreplay that left him breathless. There was a snap as he opened the bottle of lube and coated his fingers. Then, a calloused finger slid down, finding the crease of his ass. With deft precision, those thick digits stretched him, waiting exactly long enough for him to adjust before breaching him further.

“He likes it quick.”

As instructed, Gladio picked up speed, punching him full of pleasure, making Noctis’ head swim with the euphoria of it all. The feel of Gladio’s flushed skin, the sound of Ignis’ accented voice.

There was only one piece missing…

A gasp escaped him as pleasure jolted up his spine.

“Good,” Ignis praised.

Noctis could hear the sound of his zipper lowering, but the only thing he could focus on at that moment was Gladio, Gladio, Gladio.

He pulled his shield flush against him. “Fuck me already.”

Gladio chuckled. “Does Ignis let you off for talking like this?”

“He’s allowed privileges when he’s behaved himself.”

Gladio turned toward the corner where Ignis lurked like an instructor. “Shit, Igs. That’s hot.”

Noctis turned Gladio back to face him. “Put your gods damn dick inside me now.”

“Sure thing, princess.”

A moan escaped him when Gladio complied, replacing his fingers with his impressive cock. He was big. A lot bigger than Ignis. He held onto him through the burn, imagining that it was a form of branding. As if after this, no one, not even Ignis’ authority, could denounce the claim on him.

He was filled up so completely there was no room for anything besides the ecstasy threatening to shatter him with each thrust. Gladio’s strong hands seared where they held onto him. His labored grunts were music to his starving ears.

Noctis’ head flopped to the side as he drowned in the sensations. Ignis had fallen silent, nearly making Noctis forget he was present. Now, he found his hand straining toward him, needing him closer. Needing to service him.

His boyfriend’s face was flushed, erection noticeably hard where he fondled himself.

“Iggy…come here.”

For once, the advisor hesitated, his eyes flickering to the shield.

“Ignis,” Noctis said again, firmer this time.

“I…I am quite alright, Noct. This is for you and Gladio.” Despite himself, he approached them.

As soon as he was close enough, Noctis tugged him to the bed, making him halfway fall on top of the shield’s sweat-stained back.

Gladio stilled, sending his natural flirtation Ignis’ way. “Oh, hi.”

Ignis’ cheeks flushed further. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Noctis glared at him. “Stop being stupid. You’re literally my boyfriend. And Gladio’s…well.”

“He’s right, Specs. I’m just glad to be here.”

Noctis leaned in close to his crotch. “Won’t you let me take care of you? Please?” He turned his half-lidded gaze up to meet Ignis’.

Ignis’ fingers lost themselves in Noctis’ black hair. “Damn. I can never deny you, love, can I?”

Noctis gave a cheeky grin. “Not with these eyes.”

"Very well,” his voice was low and smooth, his eyes smoldering, “but on one condition. I choose how we do this."

“Gladdy?”

Gladio smirked. “I was born ready.”

Ignis took charge, and they willingly submitted to his every command. In the same synchronicity they had trained for battle, the three of them melded into a single-minded unit.

As the first rays of dawn creaked through the cracks of the closed curtains, they lay entangled, their panting breaths mingling together. Noctis, nuzzled between his two loves, couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so alive.

“I love you.”

He could see the ambiguity on Gladio’s face.

Noctis smiled. “I’m talking to both of you.”

Gladio swallowed, and his arm squeezed him. “I love you too, brat.”

“I am glad that is settled without any discord.”

Noctis wiggled around to face his first boyfriend. “So?”

Ignis’ brow knit. “So, what?”

Noctis gestured his head toward Gladio.

Catching his meaning, Ignis and Gladio locked eyes, exchanging a silent conversation in a way that always made Noctis feel strangely excluded. Without a word, Gladio cupped Ignis’ face and leaned in.

The kiss was tender, years of affection mingling with the fragility of newness. Warmth filled Noctis’ chest as he watched. They were so close to him, he could feel their movements and the slight shake of Ignis’ frame when they pulled apart.

“That’s not the first time I thought of doing that, you know?” Gladio said.

A rare blush colored Ignis’ cheeks. “I must admit, I have as well.”

Noctis felt a wave of relief wash over him. This felt right. As if this is how it should have always been.

He sank into the plush bed, tension draining from his body. "Finally,” he breathed, exaggerating the word. "Now all that's left is making up with Prompto."

The thought of how his best friend would feel when he found out about this new update caused a knot to form in his stomach. He shifted uncomfortably, unsure what he could do to ensure he didn’t feel more left out than he already did.

“Just give him time. He’ll adjust,” Gladio said.

But Noctis wasn’t so sure. He knew Prompto better than anyone, knew how deeply the blonde could fall into a pit, assuming the worst about himself.

“Maybe,” he mumbled. “I just…don’t want him to feel left out, you know?” Of course, Noctis wanted him by his side just as much as Gladio, but he was already lucky enough as it was.

Ignis reached for his glasses off the side table, placing them on the perch of his nose. “How about I invite him over? If he is compliant, that is.”

Nodding, Gladio propped himself up by the elbow. “Course. We have to let the kid in on this new development. Besides, if he wants in on this…” he gestured between them with a grin, “then I’m not opposed.”

Noctis felt a flutter in his chest, and his eyes flitted to Ignis who looked unaffected by the suggestion as he typed out on his phone.

“Let us not get ahead of ourselves.”

Thoughts rattled inside Prompto’s head like the clatter of training wheels as a kid rode past him on a bike. Ignis wanted to talk, but Prompto needed to figure out what to say first.

With each step he took down the cracked sidewalk, he saw one of his friend’s faces. Noctis’ playful smirk and eyes as deep as the night sky. Ignis’s soft smile and caring emerald eyes. Gladio’s smug grin and gaze as intense as hard liquor.

They were all attractive. Someone would have to be blind to deny that. But Prompto had never allowed himself to think about his friends that way, save for the stupid crush he had harbored for the prince since the moment he had first seen him on a TV broadcast. How long ago had that been anyway? They had been children.

It was only a stupid, silly childish crush.

But he couldn’t get it to go away. Not even when he had thought Noctis hated him for being heavy. And now, when he knew he had a loving, wonderful, irreplaceable boyfriend, he couldn’t shake it. His brain kept jumping to the fantastical idea of all four of them together.

It was beyond unrealistic. And yet, Gladio was going to confess his feelings for the prince. Who knew how Ignis would react? Yet, crazy hope stirred in his chest.

He kicked at a pebble, frowning when it stopped at the sidewalk’s edge instead of in the grass he’d aimed for.

But how could someone like him fit in? Compared to them he was chop liver. No importance, no perk, no protection. Worse than that really. Neither Lucian nor a normal human.

He paused at a store window, catching his reflection which stared back with uncertainty.

He’d have to tell them if he went through with this. There was no way a Dom would let him constantly keep on a seemingly unimportant wristband. They’d find out and that would be the end of everything.

Even if they somehow miraculously didn’t find out, how could he fit into the dynamic of the relationship? Maybe Gladio could ease into the space between dom and sub, but Prompto didn’t think he could. He’d end up on the receiving end, he was sure, and how many subs would a dom want to worry about? But none of this mattered if that wasn’t what Prompto wanted.

It was a lot to consider. Sure, he figured he was into some kinky things (his porn search history could attest to that), but he had always assumed most people did these things occasionally. Given what he had heard about Noctis being on house arrest and all the times he had turned down Prompto’s invitations to go out, it seemed that the prince was constantly under his orders. Was Prompto prepared for that kind of commitment? What if he hated it?

He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to steady his thoughts as he continued down the street.

What if they were disgusted enough by the prospect that they decided not to be his friends anymore?

His shoulders slumped, and he leaned back against the wall of a random building. His heart would literally break.

But if he never told them, then he would continue to be the odd one out.

“Damnit, why is this so hard?” His voice cracked, catching the attention of a father pushing his son on a swing.

Clamping his mouth shut, Prompto sank onto a park bench, relieved by the physical support.

He leaned back, closed his eyes, and took a slow breath. The gentle rustle of leaves above him provided soothed the swirl of thoughts.

"If I tell them," he murmured, "best case scenario, they accept it. Maybe... maybe even want me to be part of what they have."

The thought sent a thrill through him, quickly followed by a wave of doubt.

"But they'll probably just pat me on the head and say 'Thanks, but no thanks, Prompto.' And then everything’ll be weird and awkward, and I’ll lose my friends."

He opened his eyes, staring at the sunlight filtering through the leaves.

Was it worth risking everything for the chance at what he wanted?

Prompto imagined himself curled up on the couch, nestled between Noctis and Gladio, Ignis's hand resting comfortably on his shoulder. The warmth of their bodies, the sound of their laughter - it felt so real, so right.

But then the scene shifted, darkening. He imagined standing alone, watching as the others embraced, their eyes never quite meeting his. The laughter became distant, exclusionary.

"Or I could lose everything. His heart clenched.

Shaking his head to dispel the conflicting visions, he noticed a couple spreading out a blanket on the grass nearby. They moved with an easy familiarity, their hands brushing as they set out containers of food.

Prompto was unable to look away. The woman laughed at something her partner said. The joyful sound carried across the park.

Something he couldn’t name stirred in his chest.

The couple was completely at ease with each other as they settled onto their blanket. Their contentment was palpable, and it ignited a spark of determination within him.

"I gotta try," Prompto said, newfound resolve filling his voice. "Even if it's scary. Even if it might not work out. I have to fight for this."

He stood up from the bench, posture straighter and eyes brighter. What would it make him if he didn’t follow his advise?

With one last glance at the happy couple, Prompto set off, his steps purposeful. The fear was still there, but now it was accumpanied by hope and the courage to reach for what he truly wanted.

Prompto's steps slowed as he approached the apartment, his newfound resolve wavering. The glowing numbers above the doorframe loomed like a gateway to an uncertain future. He paused, leaning against a nearby wall and drawing a deep breath to steady the flutter in his stomach.

"Okay, Prom. No turning back. Just...be honest."

The knock sounded like thunder in his ears. His heart leaped into his throat as the door opened.

“Prompto,” Ignis greeted, his tone especially warm and inviting. “Please, come in.”

He shuffled inside, eyes darting around the familiar space taking notice that Gladio and Noctis were seated next to each other on the couch. "H-hey, guys,” he managed, voice cracking slightly.

"Would you care for some tea?"

"Uh, sure."

Instead of the couch, Prompto chose the armchair across from them. He tapped out the seconds with a finger against his knee to keep himself focused on something other than their stare.

"Here you are.”

The tea smelled flowery. Some kind of hibiscus perhaps. Wrapping his hands around the porcelain, he started into the brown liquid, waiting for someone to breach the topic hanging over their heads.

The silence stretched on.

As expected, Ignis settled to Noctis’ other side rather than in the armchair beside Prompto. The man was relaxed yet alert. He studied him for a moment before speaking, voice gentle. “I hope you’ve had some time to reflect on our last encounter.”

Prompto's fingers tightened around the teacup. He managed a small nod, grateful for the warmth seeping into his palms. "Yeah, I thought a lot.”

"I'm glad to hear it," Ignis said, a hint of approval in his tone. He exchanged a glance with Noctis and Gladio before continuing. "There has been development. We have decided to add Gladiolus to our relationship."

He had prepared for this outcome, but it was still a jolt of surprise. His breathing hitched before he could stop himself.

His reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Ignis’ well-trained eyes. Concern etched the advisor’s features. “Does this trouble you?”

No—yes. It had to be now—no more delaying. He set his tea down with shaking hands. “Uh, well, I need to tell you guys something.” Taking a deep breath, he willed his rapid heart and trembling voice to steady themselves. As he searched for the right words, his gaze flickered between his friends, settling briefly on Noctis before dropping to his lap. “I…don’t really know how to say this.”

“It’s okay, Prom.” Noctis’ blue eyes were filled with concern. “Take your time.”

The encouragement was enough to push him forward. “The thing is, I’ve been struggling with my feelings lately. And seeing you guys together made them harder to sort out. But I think I’ve figured out what I want now.”

He paused, taking a deep breath before plunging forward. "Noct, you've always been my best friend, but…well, I’ve also always wanted more.”

His friend didn’t look disgusted, if anything he looked hopeful. That sparked the last flint of determination he needed.

“I know I’m just some random guy who found his way into your friend circle,” his cheeks flushed as he glanced from Ignis to Gladio, “but I’m attracted to all of you, in different ways. I know I probably sound needy, like I can’t handle being ‘just the friend,’ but that’s not it... Or I guess, it kind of is, if I’m being honest. But I’ve felt this way for a while now.”

As the words poured out, Prompto felt a weight lifting from his chest. “I’m not expecting anything, I just wanted you guys to know. I didn’t think it was fair to keep it to myself anymore after everything”

The room was silent. Prompto’s chest heaved as he breathed in the enormity of his confession hanging in the air. His gaze scanned his friends faces. Gladio’s reaction was subtle, but there was tenderness in his eyes, and it looked as if he were straining to hold back a smile. However, Ignis’ face was entirely unreadable. Meanwhile, Noctis’ expression was the same as before, but he was now looking at Ignis as if everything rested on his shoulders—which Prompto assumed it did.

“Thank you for telling us, Prompto. It must have taken a lot of courage.” Ignis turned to meet Noctis’ waiting gaze. “It’s fine, Noct.”

Hope softened into affection. Without a word, Noctis bridged the space between them and pulled the blond into a firm embrace. The contact sent a reassuring buzz through Prompto’s tense frame. His arms spoke a silent promise louder than any words could.

Prompto melted against him, burying his face in his shoulder and inhaling the familiar scent.

There was shuffling before large arms found their way around both of them. Prompto could feel his eyes prickling. He was so focused on trying to will them away that he was caught off-guard when suddenly Ignis was there as well, his touch light on his shoulder.

No words were spoken, but their embrace was a shield against the chill of his fears.

After a few minutes, Gladio and Ignis stepped back, but Noctis remained close, keeping the two of them grounded. “I’ve liked you for a while too now, but I didn’t think I could have this.”

Prompto was swelling with happiness. He got it. Normally, you’d have to choose. But his happiness weakened at the realization he still had chosen. It felt spoiled to want their feelings to be equal, but he was trying to be honest, here. “You were willing to risk things with Gladio, though.” But not with me.

Noctis’ grip tightened on his waist. “Not cause I like him more exactly. It’s just harder, you know? Well, you’ve seen him. And he’s always here, like some dessert I was told I couldn’t touch. Besides,” he paused, taking a breath, “I wasn’t as scared of ruining our relationship.”

Prompto’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

Noctis tugged at the end of his hair. “I’ve known him longer, and he’s sworn to stay by my side, you know? Even if I pissed him off or something, I wouldn’t lose him. Nothing’s tying you to me.”

As if he’d ever willingly leave his side. It almost sounded as if Noctis valued him more. He shook the idea out of his head as soon as it came. That was unfair to Gladio.

“Yeah, huh,” he said in a jovial tone. “ I’m tying us together, dude. Ever by your side.”

“Thanks, Prom. Really. You’re irreplaceable to me.”

“Then, is it safe to assume you are interested in joining this arrangement?” Ignis asked.

Blinking, Prompto looked over to see Ignis’ gentle smile and Gladio’s smug grin. The shield’s arms were crossed.

“What do you say, blondie? Up for this?”

A wet chuckle bubbled in Prompto’s throat. “Ready as I’ll ever be, big guy.”

“Then, I guess we’re all dating now.” Gladio’s laugh sent warmth through Prompto’s chest.

Ignis adjusted his glasses. "Indeed. It seems our little family is settled at last."

"Welcome home, Prom," Noctis whispered, his breath tickling Prompto's ear.

Home. The place you could always return to, where you were accepted and loved. Where someone was waiting for you with a smile and open arms.

He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.

Now he realized that was what he had longed for when he saw the couple in the park. A place to finally call home.

They always had been the home he was searching for; he just hadn’t realized.

“Hey, you okay?” Gladio asked, coming nearer.

Prompto wiped his eyes. “Yeah, just super happy.”

“Me too,” Noctis whispered, his voice dripping with emotion.

Ignis smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. "I am glad we have resolved the feelings between the four of us. However, I believe we still have much to discuss. Shall we make ourselves comfortable?”

They settled into more comfortable positions. This time, Prompto found himself bracketed by Gladio and Noctis on the couch, while Ignis took the armchair.

“Am I correct in assuming you still have questions and concerns about the dynamic, Prompto?”

Prompto hunched his shoulders. “I mean…it’s intimidating.”

Ignis leaned forward. “That is understandable. But let me assure you that you do not need to be a part of anything you do not wish to. The, let’s call them stipulations, on His Highness have been established for reasons that need not affect you.”

Prompto bit his lip. “So, like, it isn’t because you enjoy it? Being in control, I guess?”

Ignis crossed his legs. “I would be lying if I said I did not enjoy it, especially when it allows me to be of service. But our dynamic was first established, and remains primarily in place, because of his obligations. I am sure you are as aware as the rest of us that he struggles to keep up with his duties.”

Noctis groaned, sinking into the couch. “You make me sound irresponsible.”

Ignis suppressed a laugh. “I do not mean to. Yet, I would neither call you responsible.”

“Iggy!”

Prompto chuckled, feeling more at ease with the situation. “So, basically, you just wanna look out for him and keep him on track?”

“Exactly. Although, he does also enjoy certain…” he cleared his throat, “bedroom activities.”

Gladio stretched his legs out, looking entirely relaxed. “I’ve got no objections either way. I’m down for pretty much anything.”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Think we gathered that last night.”

Prompto perked up at that. “Last night? Oh.” His leg bounced nervously at the realization.

Putting a hand on his shoulder, Noctis turned his body toward him. “Things escalated. That doesn’t mean you have to do anything right now. Or that we can’t. Whatever you want, dude.”

Nerves rose in his stomach, as uncertainty set in again. What did he want, right here and now?

Ignis cut off his thought. “Before contemplating that, we should establish what we are each comfortable with. This is a huge step we are taking, so it is paramount we have clear boundaries and expectations.” He set his gaze on Gladio. “Reflecting on it, we should have spoken with you first last night.”

Gladio shook his head. “Naw, Specs. I don’t think either of us could have been patient enough for that.”

Noctis’ cheeks turned a pretty pink color. “We already had a structure in place before, anyway. You just let us break it.”

Ignis removed his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. “Yes, but that is precisely why. We broke the lines of those boundaries without establishing new ones. I fear I may have crossed a line at some point.”

Gladio straightened. “I would have spoken up for myself if you had.”

Ignis gave a relieved smile, putting his glasses back into place. “Still, it is wise that we make sure none of us are put in a position where we are unsure if we can express our limits. I believe this is most important when it comes to the addition of Prompto.”

“I…” He opened his mouth, ready to deny the claim, but clamped it shut again, knowing he was right.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of. I merely want to ensure you do not feel pressured at any point.”

“Okay, thanks, Iggy.”

“Oh course. We must also plan how we will navigate time management with our unique, busy schedules as well as any jealousy, if it occurs.”

“Sounds like you did your research,” Gladio said with a hint of amusement.

“One of us had to be prepared.”

They discussed the ins and outs of their new relationship with enough detail to make Prompto blush. His worries had all-but eased, assured by their consideration and understanding.

“With that out of the way, I believe this calls for a celebration,” Ignis announced. “Why don’t we all help prepare dinner together?”

“If it’s a celebration, can we skip on the vegetables?”

Ignis’ tone was firm but still light. “No exceptions. A balanced meal is essential for your health.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Noctis groaned with a playful smile.

Ignis directed each of them to tasks most suited for their cooking abilities—or, in Noct’s case, lack of. Taking on the most difficult and precise duties, Ignis perfectly browned and seasoned the meat, while Gladio and Prompto were in charge of mixing and dividing the dessert, and Noctis was left with the simplest task of filling bowls with salad mix.

The meal was delicious. Ignis’ cooking was always delicious, but the fact they all contributed made the food taste even better than usual. Laughter and banter bounced between them. On the surface, it was a common enough dinner, but there was a subtle charge to the air.

Noctis pushed his empty plate forward. Prompto saw affection and nervousness when he locked eyes with his. “Can I kiss you?”

His heart skipped a beat. Warmth spread through his chest, more from the fact he had asked permission than the request itself. He nodded, voice stuttering in his eagerness. “Y-yeah. I-I’d like that.”

Noctis leaned in, his movement slow but deliberate. Prompto's breath hitched as their lips met, soft and tentative at first. The kiss deepened, and all the negative thoughts in his head were cast to the depths of his mind.

This was real, cemented now, without any doubts.

As they parted, Prompto's lavender eyes fluttered open, meeting Noctis's tender gaze. A giddy laugh escaped him, born of relief and joy. "Wow," he breathed, unable to contain his smile. "That was..."

"Yeah," Noctis agreed, his own lips curving into a grin. "It was."

Noctis's gaze shifted, catching Ignis's eye across the table. Gratitude shone in Noctis's eyes. Ignis responded with a slight nod, eyes shimmering with support.

Feeling sudden courage, Prompto reached for Ignis’ hand, pleasantly surprised when he took it immediately.

“We are glad to have you here.”

Gladio took his other hand, his grip firmer than Ignis’. “Yeah. Gotta say, I’m looking forward to when I get my kiss.”

He was teasing, but Prompto took the bait. “Why not? Lay it on me, big guy.”

There was no hesitation. His lips crashed into his with an intensity Prompto hadn’t been expecting. His nails bit into his arms, seeking purchase against the wave of sensation. By the time Gladio let him breath, he was panting.

“Gladio,” Ignis chided. “Do try to ease into things.”

“My bad,” he said, but there was no real remorse to the apology.

Prompto couldn’t help smiling. “Thanks for everything, guys. For being my friend—for everything.”

Noctis pulled him into his side. “You don’t have to thank us. I couldn’t have asked for a better friend.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You’ve made my life so much better.”

That was Prompto’s line. Without them, he would have been sitting in a dark apartment alone right now. “Same to you. I…I don’t want to go back to my place.” It didn’t feel right calling it home anymore.

“Wanna stay over? We can all camp out in the living room. Set up a blanket fort and play games all night? Can we, Iggy?” Noctis sounded like a puppy.

“I suppose that would be alright. As long as we go to sleep at a decent hour. You both have classes tomorrow, remember?”

Noctis groaned. “Fine.”

“Guess I should go grab some clothes first, though,” Prompto thought aloud.

“Just borrow some of mine. What’s mine is yours.”

Prompto’s heart felt like it was going to explode from too much happiness. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve it. He wasn’t quite ready to tell his final yet, but he would be. And when the time came, he trusted that things would be okay.

Home had found him a long time ago. He just had to see it.

#polyship roadtrip #chocobros #ignoct #gladnoct #ffxv #final fantasy xv #my writing #fanfic

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