#to know what new fucking bullshit will happen to impact the rest of the world with it

[ahalliance]

i love when the us election year rolls around every four years and makes it the rest of the world’s problem

[baenyth]

Bethany's Bizarre Miraculous Reviews: The London Special

Okay, I wasn't expecting this to drop so soon! Let's go! Maker-breaker! This is post-season 5 finale! I'm practicing all my negative reactions just in case!

Oh. That's Lila. Or "Lila."

Surreal-looking intro sequence. Cool!

Triangular prism chess

Old Lady Alix

Get noclipped

Exposition

Wait, she's into them kissing now? Or is she just done with their bullshit?

Gabriel making the wish is supposed to happen? That causes the apocalypse! That's probably why reality ended!

So the Miraculous big bang undid the nightmare phenomenon? Noted.

So the wish didn't cause the apocalypse? Goddamnit show, be consistent with the lore!

Kagami yes!

Kagami no!

Wait, is Marinette impacted by the wish? Is that why she won't tell Adrien? Is she mind-controlled?

Actually, looking at her, Bug Noire does look more like she's a puppet,

She won't come clean.

"No. I'll just use a key card instead."

Yes! Tell him!

I think she's being forced by the wish. Phew.

Honestly, this might be as bad as telling the truth to him. Probably worse, since he can tell something's up.

Yes! Kill! Wait no! She's covering Shitmoth's tracks!

Oh god. She's telling everyone this.

Also where is Felix in all of this? Where's that genocidal bastard?

Shitmoth won.

Well, at least the Kwamis are safe.

Lying to Alya

No, no you didn't.

So you can adjust the wish to cause the apocalypse? Why didn't they just say that?

Construction Marinette

Meta humor

Jaundicebug. Couldn't Ladybug just keep on the bright vest?

Not really, considering that apparently Miraculous canon exists in the same world as Ghost Force. Dummy.

Noclip

Just summon your lucky charm already, dummy. You already know their powers.

Maaybe get her for that if she's doing it of her own volition?

And what would those bigger problems be? That the plot is harder to comprehend?

Wait, is this just recycled scenes from the season finale?

So no one's dead and cloned. Phew.

No, Gabriel was never Adrien's father.

Alternatively, you could've just not detransformed, confiscated the rest of his rings, and arrested his ass.

One of the few London references

So akumatizing yourself gets rid of your memories? Or do people always forget when akumatized?

And yet they still got hit by the nightmare gas when Tomoe somehow didn't. What the fuck.

And you can't tell everyone else either. Like, why are you doing this? You could just not do this. Unleash the truth. Unleash justice.

Thinking with portals

Just open the portal a bit larger.

He'll have the Gorilla.

Nathalie's cooking here.

No it won't.

And the other half is a lie.

You think no one will ever know? Someone will know. Someone will find out, and they'll tell Adrien at his lowest. And that'll be a thousand times worse than just telling him the truth upfront.

Braid tail

Getting some Freddy Five Nights vibes here

Teleporter battle!

Stuck in the void

Wait, I'm pretty sure Alix was back during that happy days illusion pool sequence thing. Was that fake?

Admittedly, "both have their ups and downs" was one of the better answers to that.

New animation style

Well that didn't have much to do with London aside from the time travel crap being an allusion to Doctor Who and the Sherlock reference. Is it because British people suck? Either way, this was less of a special and more of stuff that should've been added to the season 5 finale. Their explanation of lying wasn't too bad, though. They explained that Marinette did this of her own will and had her stick to it, ultimately. I'm just glad they explained that no, everyone didn't die. I hope the side heroes get to kick Felix's ass for what he did in the new season. Bitch has it coming. And yeah, Lilamoth's going to spill the beans to Adrien one way or another.

[fioras-resolve]

ace attorney series review

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney: genuinely really good, but not just for story reasons. it's a really solid work of mystery adventure game design that still delivers on the original promise of ace attorney better than a lot of the most lauded games. and manfred still carries the most threatening presence of any prosecutor throughout the series

Justice for All: I think this is better than people say it is, i think it's fine for the game to be mostly episodic and focus on cases about just some guys rather than furthering The Plot, but i also can't deny that it has a lot of bad design habits that the series wouldn't overcome for a long time, specifically bullshit testimony puzzles that undercut the actual appeal to cross-examination. that said, it introduced us to the magatama interrogations, and still has the most compelling of those in the series.

Trials and Tribulations: this is of course a classic and an amazing resolution to the trilogy. 11 year old me had to physically go outside after the ending and process everything that just happened. but it's worth noting that i was consulting a walkthrough for the entire back half, because the bullshit testimony puzzles being so frequent meant i couldn't trust the game to be straightforward with me. it's better as a visual novel than as a game, and that's a real shame

Rise from the Ashes: incredibly solid all around, definitely my favorite of the original trilogy and also just some of the best ace attorney the series has seen? it's not just that 10 year old me saw all of the forensic gimmick and thought "wow, cool toy!" it's that it genuinely expands the scope of what ace attorney can be. it's not just that i can view objects in 3D, but that examining these things reveals new information, or just gives Phoenix and Ema an excuse to banter. it's not just that spraying luminol is fun, but that you can spray it anywhere, and find bloodstains in unexpected places that have nothing to do with the case but are just funny or flesh out the world. it's an ambitious case that makes good on all that ambition.

Apollo Justice: this game takes rise from the ashes and removes everything i liked about it. look, people have talked about this game to death. the basic complaints i have are 1) the bracelet mechanic sucks and relies on either guesswork or a walkthrough, 2) the 3d evidence examination has lost all of its charm in favor of raw function, 3) there's a large sense in both the minigames and the fact everybody else already knows what's going on, that you're just going through the motions of doing what the writer wants you to. like, it sucks, for sure, i don't like it. BUT, it was at least a setup for what could've been a great second trilogy. it takes ace attorney into a new direction that could have promising! shame the rest of the trilogy didn't follow up on it.

Investigations: so like, gonna be honest, i don't remember a fucking thing that happens in that game, and i only played it a couple years ago. the actual plot slid off of me. but the characters left an incredibly solid impression. i'm probably never going to forget tyrell badd, shi-long lang, calisto yew, and especially kay faraday. they're such cool characters, and i love the energy of the game, even though it's basically junk food entertainment. it's a great time the whole way through, and i especially like how it deliberately removes testimony puzzles in the way that every rebuttal has to end with presenting evidence. but i think this also marks the point where the series stopped living rent-free in my mind. i have strong memories of the original trilogy, and apollo justice, but from here on out i think the series just stopped leaving as much of an impact on me.

Investigations 2: i played this game in high school when the translation was finally done, and it was cool as hell. it escalated the stakes of the series to something i'd never seen before, and it takes a genuinely darker turn that i really liked at the time. it's incredibly solid as a game, but my memory just isn't what it used to be. i should play that game again sometime, it was really refreshing to see these familiar characters again.

Professor Layton Crossover: it's been a while since i played this one, i had a pretty good time with it. i like both of the games it crosses over, and i like the dynamics between its main characters, but i also think the court sections rely way too much on pressing leading to there basically being no tension. i was honestly disappointed in shu takumi for writing the game this way. it feels like he's just too enamored with fun mechanic ideas, and doesn't consider how it will feel to play them. but it's still a really nice court drama, and what really makes it for me is the presentation. the use of animation, music, voice acting, etc all creates a compelling drama that feels elevated above much of the series. like, footfalls of turnabout is one of my favorite songs in the series, because no other game in the series has a song that does what it does for the story. i would absolutely recommend this game if you wanna see how to use music to make a drama more compelling.

Dual Destinies: a cowardly game, seemingly made in response to people who didn't like apollo justice, choosing to walk back everything interesting it did. i think it's a pretty entertaining mystery procedural, like each case is a compelling story. it just doesn't make an impact like the original trilogy did, and that's a real shame. i will say that i've forgotten how well this game uses 3D for its character animation. like yeah, the mouth flaps would be better as sprites, but there's a lot of really nice or funny animation that would have been a pain in the ass to do in sprites, like ted tonate dis/reassembling a bomb, scuttlebutt pushing a tabloid out of her little box, or just cosmos spinning in his segway. like, it's really nice.

Spirit of Justice: this game was fine. i think i appreciate it because it kind of makes an aesthetic out of having no identity anymore. like, there's just too many characters, settings, plot threads, and mechanics for any of it to cohesive, so instead it's all sectioned off. this part is in the style of the original trilogy, this part features athena, and the choice to have the entire last case from apollo's perspective is a bold one! wouldn't have been so bold if this was actually just The Apollo Justice Trilogy, but nonetheless! i think for the cowardly direction this series took, this was the best direction they could've gone with it. but it's also a jumped shark, and that's really sad.

Great Ace Attorney 1+2: i can't really appreciate it on its own, because it's just so wrapped up in the context of the rest of the series. the best story beats mostly feel like shu takumi chasing old glory, the summation examination feels like it's trying and succeeding to one-up the main series, like "look, i can do jury trials, why didn't you?" it uses 3D evidence examination in a way that actually fleshes out the story, but it keeps doing the thing where it thinks it's clever by making you check the other side of a piece of evidence. like wouldn't it be funny if you had this mechanic in turnabout sisters? sigh anyway, it's pretty good, but i feel like i just can't like it as much as modern aa fans do because i've just, been here the whole time.

[gu6chan]

RIGHT branching off of this what i wanted to say about seere is that the staff hating him for being "a goody two-shoes" and not blending in with the rest of the cast is STUPID actually, Seere's placement as "the innocent child" and more importantly the cast's dynamics with him (Caim, Arioch, Leonard, etc.) is SO important in the respect it not only balances the tone of the game by keeping it from being laughably grimdark (which it already teeters on)

but it also serves to both balance the REST of the cast in turn by showing "hey!!!! They're MORE than just *insert problematic thing here*, they're people and human beings and they still have that deep down" like Caim's mercy towards him at the end of Seere's Prayer, Leonard finding the will to live through caring for Seere, and even Arioch's "maternal" affections trying to reach him through her broken mind, as fucked up as the pretext IS (Caim saving Seere for the sake of being able to slaughter more enemies, Leonard being around Seere despite KNOWING he's risking his limits doing so, Arioch,,, well, defining her protection as "wanting to eat him") it all leads back to a genuine human sense of care and protection for a young child you wouldn't otherwise get to see in this cast, and that's important!!! Not only in helping player motivation to be with this cast and see them through to their end, but also generally giving them more depth as characters and PEOPLE beyond just their defining traits

And on the other end of that, it goes without saying that Seere being an innocent, happy-go-lucky kid thinking he's on a ✨grand adventure✨ with his new buddies to save his sister also serves to ENHANCE the darkness of the world and cast by going "Sure, Caim and his crew ARE shown to be human beings still capable of feeling empathy, care, love, etc. but now that you see the stakes, you KNOW what kind of harm they're capable of and how twisted that really looks given that perspective next to an innocent 6 year old boy"

Because SURE, if Seere was an asshole in some capacity (taking his 1.3 self as an example) if something were to happen to him id imagine most players WOULD feel some level of shocked, sad, disgusted, or something among those lines, but when you look at the world someone like DOD1 Seere is in, in all his glee and little hero glory, the thought of something befalling him becomes much more real and potent. You become aware of not only how troubled the cast really is, but how dangerous a world like this is for innocents and THE FACT THEY THINK THAT TAKES AWAY FROM THE GAME?????? AND THEY STILL HATE SEERE FOR THAT?????

im going to commit a hate crime

TL;DR - The entire project dragonsphere staff is WRONG, seere is perfect for a game like Drakengard, and the fact they only saw him as necessary to "explain Manah's story" is MIND-BLOWING i hate it here

TL;DR TL;DR - the attempt to "fix" seeres characterisation in 1.3 by making him a jealous cocksuck entirely removed from the main cast who hates his sister and is gleefully celebrating his mother's death sucks ass and im hunting down everyone involved in that choice with a gun

TL;DR TL;DR TL;DR - actually, BOTH attempts in DOD3 and DOD1.3 to rewrite seere and manahs characters and take the impact of their story out of their hands is bullshit and BOY its a lot more impactful thinking they were literally just some average innocent kids thrown in the dirt and taken advantage of by gods that hate them instead of throwing in all this "they were SPECIAL and FATED TO" bullshit

thinking about what rubs me so wrong about the writing of furiae really felt like "woman who really only has control over her own mind and fantasies, hardly unable to do anything than what's expected as her both as a goddess and a woman" and how the way the staff viewed the writing of furiae as "woman who can't do anything"

I feel like Tadashi really summed it up good in this passage here

[nothing-but-dreamy]

ON THE EDGE ~ Pt. 1

Summary: YN is a Detective and the partner of Gavin Reed, number one douchebag of the Detroit City Police Department. After a forced break, she comes back. She’s looking forward to working with her partner again and to getting back into her ‘normal’ life between case files and criminals. But, of course, it doesn’t stay boring for too long: Gavin seemed to be more on the edge than usual, a Red Ice dealer might be a good lead to something bigger and then, there is Connor, the friendly, handsome android and Hank’s new partner.

Added to the fact that yn has to deal with the criminal world again, she also discovers feelings she hasn’t noticed before triggered by a person she hasn’t expected.

Her life always resembled a ride on a rollercoaster.

But now, it’s a whole damn circus parade.

Characters: Gavin Reed, YN (FEMALE!Reader), Hank Anderson, Connor

Words: 2.472

Warnings: signs of PTSD (flashbacks in italics), cursing (a lot), mention of blood

"He's totally crazy. He shoots at everything that moves. It's impossible to get close to him.", yn stated. "But we have to stop him somehow."

"Stay here. I have an idea. Over there, the left spot is free. He will barely notice me.", Gavin said and pointed in the direction.

"Gavin, no!", Yn cursed as he slipped through her grip, "Gavin!", she tried again to call him back but her partner was already too far away, "Fuck!"

Gavin ran to the left side like mentioned. Yn stayed behind the hide and watched the scene concerned. She was trying to cover Gavin whenever needed. What Gavin couldn't notice was that the crazy guy had seen him.

Even if she tried everything to get the guy's attention, Yn watched in horror how the suspect aimed at Gavin who sneaked through the room completely unaware that he was the target in the line of fire.

The suspect aimed his gun into Gavin's direction and waited til he would appear on the other side of the pillar where Gavin tried to hide.

There was no way that yn would be able to stop the guy. He was too far away and behind a half broken wall. But she was convinced that she could help Gavin. That was what she did without thinking twice: she ran towards Gavin. As she reached him to push him out of the way, the suspect fired his gun two times.

Of course Gavin was cursing as he hit the ground unexpectedly, not knowing what had pushed him. He hurried to get back on his feet and as he saw that the suspect's gun had been running out of bullets, Gavin shot to stop him.

Gavin made sure that the suspect was no threat anymore. Officers were running into the room to arrest the shooter. And only then, Gavin noticed yn lying on the ground and all the blood pouring from her body...

Gasping for air, Gavin started up from his sleep and sat straight in his bed, "Fuck...", he cursed breathlessly. He was dripping with sweat, his hair clutching to his face. Three o'clock in the morning. Just two hours of sleep but still more than the night before...or all the other nights during the past weeks.

Gavin pushed his blanket away, sat on the edge of his bed and rested his face in his hands to calm down himself. His fingers were digging into his hair violently as he desperately tried to get the memories out of his head. He squeezed his eyes shut until stars were dancing in front of his inner eyes.

A shudder was shaking him. Goosebumps were spreading over his naked chest. To sit around like this, covered in sweat, wouldn't do anything good. And because he was already awake, Gavin stood up, took his boxing gloves and started to train until the pictures in his head would disappear.

He knew this would never happen.

He should have been better.

He had failed yn.

**

To stay in front of this certain building after all these long weeks felt like coming home. At least, for yn. She was nervous but in a good way that shot adrenaline through her body. It was like the first day at school after the summer break. She didn't have to fear anything. Everyone would be happy to see her again. And yet, she extended the moment to go in. It was not an official visit. She just wanted to come back because...she feared to miss too many things.

Yn had heard the rumors of Hank's new partner. An android. Then, there were the happenings that got called 'War of Detroit', the successful android revolution. So many things had changed and yet, yn knew that there was still this one, certain absolute term. Her own rock in this ocean of craziness she could always depend on: Gavin Reed, her partner.

Yn was looking forward to seeing all the familiar faces again and without waiting any longer, she entered the DPD finally.

*

Gavin stood in the kitchen of the DPD at one of the tables, his back facing the office so he hadn't to see anyone. The last thing he wanted was to talk with someone. A cup of coffee stood in front of him. He watched the foam floating around on the dark liquid. It was his third cup. And it wouldn't be the last.

"Good morning, Detective Reed."

Gavin nodded without looking up. Even if Gavin had made his peace with Connor, the nice android from the neighborhood, he was still getting on his nerves from time to time. This morning was such a 'time'. His thoughts always drifted back to his recurring dreams of yn…

"Reed.", Hank greeted Gavin, who nodded quickly. Without asking, Hank and Connor joined Gavin at the table. An own cup of coffee in front of Hank. He sugared it and stirred the liquid that would start his day.

Connor was about to say something, maybe to light up the mood of these two grumpy guys, but Hank stopped him, "Shit! Look who's there.", he said and looked at someone behind Gavin's back.

Gavin looked up and saw Hank and Connor staring at the same spot so, he turned around, "No fucking way!", Gavin called out surprised and approached yn quickly who stood in the passage of the kitchen. A smirk was spreading on his lips as he saw her in the familiar environment.

Yn smiled and waved but as she saw Gavin's predatory glance and the smirk, she stepped back and raised her hands to stop him, "Gavin, no. Stop! Gavin!" The impact of her partner knocked all the air out of her lungs.

He snaked his arms around her waist and scooped her up, "I have missed you, shorty!", he cheered.

Yn chuckled until she got put back down on her feet a moment later, "I have missed you, too, idiot!", she said. Together, Gavin and yn went back to the table to Hank and Connor, "I'm- what? Away for six weeks and everything went south? Detroit fights a civil war against androids who started a revolution? Everything's a warzone, suddenly and I'm not a part of that? Boys, I thought you could handle it better without me.", she said smirking and crossed her arms.

"We did what we could but there were just too many of these things.", Gavin said serious.

As yn looked at Gavin with an amused expression, her eyes fell on the fourth person at the table, "Oh, and who are you?"

"My name is Connor.", the android answered.

"My new partner.", Hank added.

"Your new- bloody hell! I already heard the rumors but- Nice to meet you. I'm yn. Whenever you need help with the old man, come to me.", yn said with a wink.

"Very funny!" Hank grunted but yn saw the grin on his face.

As Gavin saw the glances between Connor and yn, he stepped between them. Gavin wasn't fond of the way the android looked at her.

"So, you're 'back' back?", Gavin asked hopefully.

"I'm still not fully recovered. I have to attend a few dates with the psycho-doc AND I have to pass the shooting test. Then I will be back. I guess one more week. I just have missed all this so much, I had to come over.", yn said grinning.

"I guess, there will be no problem for you to pass everything, kiddo.", Hank said encouragingly.

"Thanks Hank-"

"Of course, she will pass all this bullshit! And then, she will be back. The precinct was way too boring without you!", Gavin said excitedly.

Yn saw his eyes sparkling and the familiar grin. She considered saying something nice but she always loved to tease this douchebag. It was their thing, "No new recruits to torture, huh?"

Gavin's smile faltered and he squinted his eyes as he saw her smirking, "I never-"

Yn nodded understandingly, "Ohh...I see... No women to hunt either? You poor thing!", she patted his cheek to act playfully caring.

Gavin couldn't do anything else than just to laugh before he brought her into a bear hug, completely enveloping her, "Oh, how much I have missed you!", Gavin stepped back, ruffled her hair, and laid his arm around her shoulders before they walked to his desk.

Connor watched after them. Overwhelmed by her entrance, the way she was handling Gavin and how different the Detective was around her, "Where was she?", he asked Hank finally.

Confused, Hank looked at his partner, "What?"

"Where was yn? She said she was gone for several weeks. Where had she been? Vacation?"

"Oh .. uhmm, no. She... During their last case, she got injured. She had to recover. It's good that she will be back soon, tho.", Hank explained, smiling about the fact yn was coming home.

"Detective Reed seems different around her.", Connor stated, still confused about all the smiles and laughter coming from Reed.

"I guess it's her magical power. She's able to handle him where anyone else failed a long time ago."

Connor looked at her once again. Yn stood with Gavin, Chris and some other cops at the desk, talking and laughing. She was truly magical. Nice, funny, cheeky, beautiful. He was looking forward to working with her. Then, she came back to them.

"Hey, I got appetite for the best burger in town. Wanna join?", she called over to Hank who nodded with a grin. Gavin rolled his eyes but she just nudged him in his side. Connor got dragged out of his thoughts and followed his three colleagues. Yn already waited for him to join. Much to Gavin's dismay she linked her arm with the android's one but he swallowed down his annoyance for the greater good.

*

They drove to the Chicken Feed truck. The best burger in town, how Hank had titled them. While the three made their orders, Connor organized a table. All three went to the table with burgers and drinks. Simultaneously, they bit into their burgers.

"You know, this meal contains 1.4 times the recommended daily intake of calories. You shouldn't eat-"

"Shut up!", Gavin and Hank yelled at the same time. Connor silenced instantly.

Yn looked alternating at Hank and Gavin before she stopped at Connor, "Connor, honey, very important rule: don't fuck the boys up when it comes to their food. It's not a good idea."

"But it's unhealthy.", Connor argued innocently.

Yn nodded slowly, knowing what he meant before she looked at her burger closely, "Well, I’m spotting salad, tomato and even pickles on our burgers. These are three different types of vegetables. It's more healthier than everything else we're used to consuming. Don't forget that we usually got fueled by coffee and donuts. Only."

Connor nodded and let them eat. He had learnt that humans knew how to live the best way but some of them didn't just want to do it right. Maybe it wasn’t for him to change their behaviour.

"Hey, sweety. Want some bread?”, Yn asked and threw a small piece of bread on the ground.

Hank followed the way of her attention and rolled annoyed with his eyes, "Oh, these disgusting creatures!", Hank muttered. Yn looked questioningly up to Connor.

"Lieutenant Anderson doesn't like pigeons.", Connor explained.

"That sounds like a story. I wanna know it!", yn said amused with a big grin, waiting for Hank to speak up.

Hank grinned but shook his head, "Someday, I will tell you what I had to endure with this guy but not now.", Hank said and he and Connor said goodbye. Hank hugged yn before they left her and Gavin alone.

Gavin and yn started to walk around a bit, enjoying the sunny winter day, "You look tired. Have you been very busy the last few weeks?", yn asked.

"No, it was okay. Nothing much. The typical stuff, you know.", Gavin said, his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, playing with some coins.

"Oh, yeah... So, you just didn't want to see me then?", she asked, looking at him from the corner of her eyes, watching his reaction.

Gavin avoided her eyes, looking at the ground, "Yn…", he sighed, "I…", but he stopped. Unsure what he should say.

Yn nudged him with her shoulder, a soft smile on her lips as she saw his pained expression, "It's okay. I'm not mad. I was just… it was boring, you know. If you would have visited more often, maybe it would have been more fun to recover.", she said jokingly but it wasn't working, the painful expression stayed in his face.

"I really doubt that.", Gavin said low, still not able to look at her.

"What?", Yn asked surprised and stopped.

Gavin stopped as well, facing her with his back, "I- I… forget it.", Gavin said and was about to go but yn stopped him with her hand holding his arm and turning him around.

"Gavin, what is it?"

Gavin needed a moment before he looked at yn, as he did, it was with a serious expression, "It's my fault that you got injured in the first place."

Slightly taken aback that it was this topic that still bothered him, yn frowned and looked at him with big eyes and shaking her head, "No. It was the fault of this fucker-"

"No! You wouldn't have been shot if I hadn't been so stupid! I have failed you as a partner and as a friend!", Gavin called out angrily, torturing himself.

Yn intervened right away, "Stop that, Gavin! It's not your fault, okay? Your idea was good. This guy was simply just too crazy."

Gavin dropped his gaze, not able to look into her eyes any longer. For him it didn’t feel right to get forgiveness from her, "I should have been in your place instead. Two more scars on my body wouldn't make any difference to all the others I already have."

Yn stepped forward to search his glance, "You feel guilty, I get that. But ... you don't have to, okay? And beside, I know you and your luck. You would have been killed instead of just being injured.", a smirk playing on her lips.

Finally, Gavin looked at her again. He chuckled low by the face she made: a too overexcited grin to cheer him up. No matter how down he felt, yn was able to let him feel better. Always. Even just for a moment. He stepped forward and brought her into a bone crushing embrace, "It's so good to have you back.", he said softly into her hair.

Yn was surprised about the sudden outburst of emotions but she hugged him back, enjoying this moment to the fullest, "Yeah. And you know what? I can't wait to kick some asses with you again."

[espinosaurusrexex]

Not Nice

In which Jeff and y/n have a heart to heart conversation about their relationship.

warnings: angst; just really sad, because that's what I do... BUT don’t worry, ya girl put some serious fluff in there, too!

a/n: Hello! God, it’s been a long time... How is everyone doing? I just felt like putting something out there again after not being able to write for so long. I don't know why; and I should actually be working on some term papers, but I found myself writing this so fast. I wrote this, because I felt like it, so it is not request related. I hope there are still some people whose feed this will end up on. I would love some feedback and as always: please enjoy! I hope you didn't forget about me :)

word count: 2.7k

It was a cool California night. Still not cold for February, but enough to send a shiver through your body when stepping outside. Y/n would normally not even consider going out right now, but the situation had called for it. David had called her minutes before, screaming at her through the phone to get her butt over to his house for a big problem that left him sleepless. She had fallen asleep on her desk trying to complete one of the assignments that were due by the end of the semester and basically fell off her chair when her phone rang annoyingly loud in her right ear. To say that she would rather be in her warm bed instead of her cold leather car seat was an understatement. But she knew that not helping David would leave her sleepless for days and seeing that it had already been 4 in the morning, she grabbed her keys and left. She was so tired that the lines on the road kept blurring in different directions. Just a couple more minutes, she thought to keep her focus on the road, but the exhaustion was unbearable at this point. A loud horn drew her back to reality when she accidentally served in the other lane. Shaking and flustered, she pulled over and rubbed her face with her hands aggressively. Pull yourself together Y/n. David needs your help. She looked up again, but the headlights of the few other cars made her eyes hurt, giving her an instant headache. That’s it. She was selfless, but not irresponsible. After searching for her phone in the passenger seat, she dialed Jeff’s number. Why she called him, she didn’t know. It was like an automatic movement to type in his number. The shrill beeping of the phone echoed through her head until Jeff’s sleepy voice broke it. “Are you Ok?“ He sounded confused and his voice reminded her of the time he had a terrible cold. Shit. “Oh my God. I’m sorry I didn’t think about the time. I-,“ but Jeff interrupted his friend with a chuckle. “It’s Ok. I was about to get up anyway.�� There was silence, and Y/n could hear him shuffling out of his bedsheets. “David called me and said he wanted me to help him with something.“ Y/n could almost hear the eye roll on the other line, and if she weren’t so tired, she would have probably laughed at it. “I’m guessing he called you, too?“ It sounded more like a question, but Jeff knew that he was right. “Yeah that’s actually why I called…“ She rested her head on the seat. “I’m on Linkin’ Road and I am too tired to drive… I was wondering… I- Could you maybe pick me up?“ She closed her eyes to focus on her friend’s voice. Jeff was grinning, she could hear it when he agreed to pick her up. Y/n’s heart beat faster at this. It was so insignificant and yet so attractive to her.

A couple minutes passed until Jeff’s car pulled up next to hers, sending vibrations through the floor and back to Y/n’s. She looked up and spotted a grinning man on the driver’s side rolling down the window to throw a holler at her. “Need a ride, beautiful?“ Y/n smiled, trying to hide the butterflies in her stomach. She got into his car taking in his woody scent and buckled up. Jeff threw a blanket over her legs and drove towards David’s house. The Drive was about 20 minutes and spend with Jeff humming to the calm tunes of the radio that sent Y/n straight to sleep. When they finally arrived, he tapped her shoulder lightly. “Y/n wake up. We’re here.“ 

They both walked into the house and went straight for the living room, where David was probably seated. It was so bright that Y/n had to rub her eyes. As soon as the brunette noticed his friends, he jumped up excitedly. “Now that everyone is finally here…“ It was just now that Y/n noticed that her whole friend group was scattered in the living room, snuggled up with fuzzy blankets or their significant other. Everyone was looking up to David, who was now standing on top of his couch table waving his remote control in the air. “It came to my attention that our dear friend Jeff has a problem.“ His grin grew wider with every word and if Y/n weren’t so exhausted, she would have probably noticed the mischief in David’s eyes. Jeff was looking around the room, trying to figure out if anybody could give him a hint on what was about to happen, and in his mind, a series of problematic things, he had recently done, were playing like a record. „What do you mean?“ He laughed nervously and scooted closer to Y/n. It always calmed him down to feel her next to him. David proceeded to pull his audience’s attention to the TV behind him. A blurry picture showed on the screen, displaying a woman in a tight blue dress and Jeff dancing in a rather inappropriate way. “Jeff, I think someone might have leaked something to the paparazzi.“ Before Y/n could process what was happening, the room filled with laughter. Y/n stood there as if she had turned to stone, too tired to show any form of emotion. She struggled to pull the corners of her mouth into a smile but she felt like throwing up then and there. Why did he not tell me about this? Why is this making me so sad? It was when Jeff’s hand had touched hers, that she was pulled back to reality. A wave of emotions came crushing over her, making her eyes water and her already pounding headache intensify. She was mad for so many reasons. Mad about David for pulling her away from a much-needed sleep by using her good conscience and selflessness to get her to his house for an immature prank that broke her heart. She was mad that she had not realized sooner how much of an impact Jeff actually had on her. And most of all, she was mad about the fact that something so stupid could even make her mad. It was all too much, and Y/n could not hold it any longer. Her thoughts had been weighing her down for too long now, making her feel like collapsing under their pressure. “Y/n are you okay?“ David managed to yell across the room. “What do you think of Jeff’s new girlfriend?“ Those words hit her like a truck. Girlfriend. The word made her shiver. Jeff did not have a girlfriend for the entire time they had known each other and Y/n never had to deal with the possible bother she would get from it. “I think they look great together!“ Someone said and this made Y/n burst. “You wanna know what I think about it?“ Everyone cheered, waiting for Y/n to drop a punch line. “I think that you’re an asshole, David. This is such bullshit!“ Low laughter were heard until David spoke again: “Don’t be such a drag, Y/n/n.“ Y/n tensed up again and Jeff tried to nudge her shoulder in an attempt to calm her down, but she shrugged him off harshly. “You don’t know what it is like to have responsibilities. I am late on two assignments and the average amount of sleep I get each night is about 2 hours. And you know what I ditched those two hours for today? Your fucking stupid prank. You think you can order everyone at any time just to end up on a 4:20 min vlog. You live in some fucked up carefree parallel universe. But guess what! Not everyone has this reality. Grow up, David! I can’t do this anymore. Being your friend is beyond exhausting and you don’t even care. God! You are the worst person I know!“ The room fell silent until a quiet “That was so uncalled for…“ could be heard. Y/n searched the crowd for the source of that statement in vain. “I’m just saying what every-“ But Jeff interrupted her, “Y/n! That’s enough!“ She shot him a dark glimpse and left the house with a shaking head. 

Y/n trembled from head to toe when she burst through the door of David’s house and the brisk air hit her skin. She just started to walk with no direction in mind. Her view was blurry from the tears pooling up in her eyes, but she did not care. The exhaustion in her bones was making her body hurt. Y/n did not stop, though. She just walked in hopes of the pain in both her heart and body was going to fade after some time. It felt like hours until she finally stopped. Her feet had lead her to a familiar spot. A small clearing with a beautiful view over the city. She sat down and allowed herself to breathe for the first time in hours. What have I done?

It was still dark when Jeff's Car pulled up on the clearing. He sat in the driver’s seat for a while watching Y/n’s back shake and his heart felt squeezed. He always knew that he had a soft spot for her, but this felt different. Almost too much to process. He took a deep breath and walked up to Y/n, resting his hand on her shoulder once again. She looked up and smiled at him with this glimmering spark of sunshine in her eyes, but this time it wasn’t real. Not genuine enough for her. “I don’t get it. You seem like the happiest person in the world.“ Jeff sat down shaking his head while studying the floor beneath his feet. Y/n looked up. Anger flickered in her eyes as she realized what had slipped out of her friend’s mouth. “You wanna know why I’m always positive? You want to know why I’m always so ‚nice‘?“ Tears streamed down her face while she tried to hide the way her features cramped up in pain from the thoughts that flooded her brain like a tsunami. Y/n held her breath for a few seconds trying to collect herself before talking again. The attempt to cover up the ugly sobs that were about to slip her lips made her head feel like bursting. “I’m nice because I’m scared that if I speak my mind, people won’t like me anymore. I am positive because a lot of times I feel like that is the only thing that people could like about me.“ The words hit Jeff right in the heart. He caught her eyes for a second and shivered. He could see her breaking. Breaking to the point where it wouldn’t be a quick fix anymore that could be handled by a hug or kind words. No, the girl he saw in front of him, the very same girl that was sitting there, knees tucked to her chest, face hidden between it and her shoulders, was crumbling into a million pieces. Her body quivered as she attempted to hold her knees even tighter, trying everything to not fall apart any further. Jeff’s eyes started to water. It was a feeling he had never felt before. As if his heart was pulling on thin strains that were able to flood his entire brain with emotions yet so fragile. He hated seeing her like that. He hated everything about this situation. But the worst thing was that he didn’t know how to fix things. He wanted her to be happy, to be careless, and not let people’s opinions or some stupid assignment get the better of her, but he didn’t know how. It’s started to annoy him to the point where even the sky above him with the beautiful stars made him furious. “I had no idea…“ he trailed off after a while. Every word leaving his lips felt like one too much, but at the same time, he felt like he was not even able to say enough to fix things for her. “I’m so sorry.“ He just sat there shaking his head while moving some soil with his right hand. Y/n stayed quiet. She didn’t know what to say either. She felt bad for laying all her issues on him like that, but it felt so good. Iike a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Before she could even think about a response, Jeff interrupted her again. “You should feel able to tell me stuff like this, Y/n/n.“ They locked eyes and Y/n could see the pain in his. “No, I know… It's just that-“ “That what?“ Jeff was desperately hoping for anything that could help him help her. “I don't want to be a bother… especially not for you.“ She hid her face between her knees again, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill. “Oh, Y/n… You could never.“ He grabbed her hands and basically forced her to look back at him again. Y/n could feel the wet soil squeezed between their fingers, making her hand tingle a little. “Never in a million years do or say anything that would make me think anything less of you than an amazing person.“ A genuine smile formed on Jeff’s lips. He could see her relaxing with his touch. Just like he did with hers. “That means a lot, Jeff.“ The way she said his name sent shivers down his spine. His smile grew even wider and Y/n took the tiny bit of confidence in her to speak again. “Especially coming from you… I-“ Secretly hoping he would interrupt her like he always did, Y/n looked up through her lashes. “I know. Me too…“ Jeff smiled. There was this twinkle in his eyes. Just a faint glimmer for every other person, but for Y/n it meant the world. Like a whole new galaxy had been opened just for her. There was something so obvious and unspoken between them now and Y/n loved that they both knew what it was. With no intention to address it, Jeff leaned in closer to her. He watched her face with intent, making sure that she was feeling better from her previous breakdown before he planned on doing anything else. But all she did was smile and hint a small nod his way. That was enough for him. He longed for her lips. His hand wandered back to her shoulder, squeezing it slightly as he bumped his nose against hers. Y/n moved her fingers towards Jeff’s face, touching the scruff on his jaw lightly. They could feel the electricity dancing in the centimeters that separated them. With a final look into her eyes, Jeff pressed his lips against hers, enjoying the warmth for a moment. They started to move in synch, devouring each other. There was nothing else at this moment. Nothing, except for the salty taste of tears and the overwhelming warmth of a loved one. Jeff’s chest felt like bursting from joy. He loved the feeling this moment was giving him. It felt like finally breathing after holding a breath for a month. Their kiss felt like a Valve that had finally been opened for Y/n. It was letting all the hurt and worry out of her system and made the moment even more enjoyable. 

Once they separated from one another, there was nothing but positivity lingering in the air around them. They looked into each other’s eyes until Y/n was ripped from the moment by a yawn that had been sitting in her throat for hours. She rested her head on Jeff’s shoulder and slowly drifted off to sleep. Jeff was stroking her head calmly. There were no more words needed anymore. This moment was perfect.

Jeff looked ahead and noticed the sun rising on the horizon, dipping the world into beautiful red and yellow tones. He took a deep breath, leaning back carefully and enjoying the considerably most wholesome moment to ever exist. 

Hey hey, it’s me again. I know it’s not the best and I know it’s kinda short, but I just wanted to get something out there again. It felt good to write, but unfortunately I don’t have a lot of time lately. I hope you enjoyed this little piece anyways. I would love to hear some feedback on it. Thank you so much for reading this far!

[mrsalwayswrite]

These Hands Were Made For You (Bill Guarnere x Reader)

Based on this post by @problematicfavesareproblematic​ because its amazing!

This is my first time writing Wild Bill. Lemme know what y’all think!

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension, palming (is that a warning?)

Words:2600

Tag List: @happyveday​ @sydney-m​ @saritanotserena​

  As soon as you stepped into the barn-converted-to-mess-hall in Albourne, you knew what was coming. 

 "There she is, fuckin' goddess of war herself! Come to see how the toughest, most handsome sonofabitch in the 506 is doin' this morning?" 

 You just chuckled and shook your head at his exaggerated smug look. "Yeah, Bill. Something like that."

 Guarnere winked at you and you could not figure out how it was possible for such a simple action to be so dirty. The way he tilted his head just slightly, the corner of his mouth lifted in a half smirk followed by a quick wink...you could feel heat pooling in your belly and your breath catch. 

 The cocky grin on his face grew as he saw the hint of pink on your cheeks. He knew what that wink did to you and he LOVED using it against you. 

 Bastard. 

 "Something you need, Y/L/N?" Martin asked from the table closest to the door.  

 "Yeah, any of you seen Lip?"

 Luz answered from the table, cigarette dangling from between his lips. "Think he went back to the house to grab something. Why?"

 You waved Luz off as you could see him start to stand, stepping further into the barn. "Just need to ask him something. Winters is in a meeting otherwise I'd ask him."

 "Why don't you take a seat, he should be back soon."

 "Perfect spot saved right here for the Valkyrie of Easy!" Bill announced, patting the open spot on the bench next to him. 

 You rolled your eyes but relented, moving past the other table to drop next to Guarnere. On his other side sat Heffron, still looking a bit wide-eyed and nervous that he somehow won the coveted spot with the Toccoa men. Toye sat across, giving you a brief nod when you sat down. Perconte, Christianson, Skinny, and Grant also took up residence around the table. Perco seemed to have been in the middle of telling some overly, exaggerated story. 

 Most of Easy relaxed in the barn. The Toccoa men were grateful for the break from the front-line and hot food instead of K rations. All the replacements were eager for the next jump, ready to soil their ODs, not truly understanding that war would only take from them, never give. The division between Toccoa men and replacements was painfully obvious. 

 Heffron leaned around Guarnere to meet your eyes. "Hey, sorry again about the fellas yesterday. They've been like that since training."

 "Not your fault, Babe." You shrugged, running a hand through your hair. 

 "What's he talkin' about?" Guarnere narrowed his eyes at you. Even Toye across the table was staring at you in concern. 

 "Nothing, Bill. It's fine."

 "If you're sayin' its fine then it ain't fuckin' fine." He growled. When he realized you were not going to elaborate, he turned on Babe. "What the fuck happened?"

 The redheaded replacement looked like he would rather be anywhere else in the world in that moment than being interrogated by Wild Bill. "Some of the men were...ah, tryin' to...um… proposition her." He finished with a wince. 

 A long beat of silence.

 Then Guarnere exploded. 

 He pounded the table with a tight fist, the table shaking at the impact.  A snarl on his lips, he started to rise from his seat, eyeing the tables further away full of replacements. "Who the fuck was it? Someone from our platoon? Imma fuckin' kill 'em. Who was it?"

 "No," you cut in, grabbing his arm and restraining him, hoping to stop him before he worked himself up into a frenzy, "some replacements from third."

 He growled but let you pull him back down. "Goddamn replacements. They touch you?"

 "No, Bill. I handled it."

 Toye spoke up, eyeing his friend carefully as if to see if he was going to have to prevent a replacement's murder or help hide the body. "What you do?"

 You smirked, squeezing Guarnere's arm for good measure then pulled your hand back into your lap. "Told them if they tried to pull that shit again, I'd rip their cocks off and mail them to their mothers."

 All the men at the table either winced or shifted uncomfortably at the mental image. 

 "Hey, don't you be touchin' no one's cocks." Bill said, fury still on his face but also amusement. 

 You raised an eyebrow, "what would you rather I have done? Swung at them? Give Sink a reason to send me packing?"

 "Nah, you swing at 'em, they might fall in love." He winked at you again, telling you he knew exactly what he was talking about. Underneath the table, hidden from view, his knuckles skimmed the outside of your thigh. You attempted to hide the shiver that caused but knew you failed when Guarnere chuckled quietly.

 "Why would that matter?" Babe asked innocently. 

 "Oh, here we go." Toye sighed. 

 "Shut up Joe, the kid asked alright." Guarnere started his story, pleased to have a new, rapt audience. "So here we are, back in Toccoa, right? Most of us have already arrived and started trainin' with goddamn Sobel. Then one day this beautiful broad shows up and we're told she's joinin' the paratroopers. None of us believe it. Why would a broad be joinin'? Don't make no fuckin' sense. So the next day we're supposed to be startin' to learn self-defense and guess who I get paired up with? Huh? Lovely Y/L/N over here. Right, so I'm fuckin' pissed cause I don't wanna be fightin' no broad but Sobel is watchin' like a hawk. I tell her I'll pretend to swing at her and she should just fall down. Play fightin', ya know? Like when youse a kid. I take a swing at her, thinkin' she knew the plan. She easily dodges my swing and before I can right myself, she lands a punch on me. Knocked me flat on my ass and seein' stars. I look up to see this goddess standin' over me, bloody knuckles and all, and she says 'you better get up and fight me like a man before I knock you on your ass again'."

 "So, what you do?" Heffron asked, surprise clearly written all over his face. 

 Guarnere tapped the table with his finger. "What did I do? Well, I got up and told her that when this war is over, I'm gonna fuckin' marry her, that's what I was gonna do."

 Those who had heard the story before chuckled while Heffron sat there, head tilted and eyes bouncing between you and Guarnere like he was waiting for the punchline still. 

 "Why? No offense, Y/L/N." 

 Guarnere threw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. "Cause she hits harder than any fella I've ever known, includin' me brother Henry. Boxin' champion that one was. Now if that ain't a reason to marry someone, I don't know what is."

 "And she puts up with your bullshit." Toye deadpanned. 

 You rolled your eyes, sliding out from underneath Guarnere's arm. "That's just words unless there's a ring and I don't plan on marrying for a while yet. Still gotta win a war first." You stood up, smoothing down your ODs. "'Sides, maybe by then I'll find someone who doesn't annoy me so much."

 "Nah, you'd miss my handsome face too much."

 "You keep telling yourself that, Bill."

 "One day you'll come around." He winked, making your insides warm. You would never understand how that was possible. The Philadelphian pointed a finger at you. "You lemme know if any of those replacements bother you again. Can't have those bastards propositionin' my future wife."

 "See you later, boys." You said, not even bothering to answer him. You headed towards the door, intent on finding Lipton; but also to get away from the man who gave you such feels without even saying a word. Then when he did speak, complimenting and claiming you in front of the others…. it was becoming harder and harder to keep your hands and your lips to yourself. 

 ***** 

 You leaned against the doorframe, admiring the man who was too caught up in writing a letter home to have noticed you yet. He twirled the pencil between his fingers as he thought about his words. The chair creaked under him as he shifted, leaning forward against the wooden desk to continue writing. The small bedroom only consisted of the desk, chair and bed. Guarnere's duffle bag was thrown in a corner with things haphazardly pulled out. The NCOs had been billeted in a house together, everyone able to have their own rooms unlike the enlisted men who were forced to share a converted barn.

 When you had first met him, and your first real encounter resulted in you punching him, you had thought he was the most unhelpful, condescending, little shit; and you had no problems telling him that for weeks after. When he had bounced back to his feet and proposed...you had laughed so uncontrollably, it had taken a sharp bark from Lipton to get you to focus again. 

 Over the following weeks, the bastard would openly flirt with you and practically pummel anyone else who tried to. Sometime around Fort Benning, your own feelings toward him started to change. No longer was he a man you loathed. You found yourself happy he was in your platoon, that he hovered around you keeping assholes from other companies away, that you enjoyed his flirting and when you two were alone... you reciprocated. 

 Actually, the first time you flirted back, he almost choked on his tongue he was so surprised. After that, things shifted between you two. 

 He continued openly flirting but understood you could not since you were under far more scrutiny and Sobel was looking for ANY reason to get rid of you. 

 For two years Guarnere had been in your life...and you hoped for the rest of it too. 

 "Enjoyin' the view, sweetheart?"

 You smiled at him as he leaned back in the chair, legs still under the desk. "Should I be?"

 He scoffed. "You know you like what you see...I'll tell you though," his eyes raked over you, "you're a fuckin' goddess with a body to drive a man crazy."

 You laughed, covering your mouth with your hand to minimize the sound, as he winked at you before turning back to his letter. 

 "The other NCOs said you were going out tonight for drinks."

 "Yeah, yeah. Told 'em if I didn't finish this letter for my ma, she'd jump on a boat and come find me. Got three letters from her already. Last one she threatened to come find me. So, I told the fellas I'd meet them there."

 The muffled sounds of the other NCOs drifted up the stairs; they were gathered in the common room getting ready to head out. With that in mind, you moved silently across the room to where he sat at the chair. Coming up behind him, you dragged your hands over his broad shoulders then down his firm chest, stilled his motions. 

 "Y/N…"

 You loved touching him, could not get enough of it when you were able to. What you also loved doing was paying him back for teasing you. 

 One of your hands continued to travel downward until you palmed his cock. He froze, pencil hovering just about his letter. Without a word, you slowly, torturously, stroked him over his trousers. 

 "Fuck, sweetheart." He groaned, tipping his head back slightly. 

 "You said earlier I wasn't supposed to be touching anyone's cocks...does that include yours?"

 Turning his head, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye but before he could speak, you took the tip of his earlobe between your teeth. 

 "Hands on the desk, Sergeant." You growled in his ear. 

 Immediately, his hands slammed on the wooden desk, palms down. The pencil fell to the floor. Letter now forgotten on the desk. 

 "Mmm, yes, sir… you keep them there." You continued slowly stroking his cock over his trousers. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to kiss you earlier when we were at the mess hall." You licked up the curve of his ear, feeling him shudder under your touch. Your hand gave him a gentle squeeze as you continued whispering in his ear. "Think I should punish you for teasing me earlier? That wink you gave me...all the dirty images it put in my head. Want me to tell you about them?"

 "Fuck, sweetheart, yes."

 "I thought about you bending me over one of those tables. Notice how they are at the perfect height? How good you would feel inside me. How deep you would be."

 One of his hands started to move off the table, drifting towards where your hand played with him. 

 You nipped his earlobe sharply, making him hiss. "Hands up, Sergeant, or no reward later."

 "You're gonna kill me, darlin'." His hand slammed back on the desk. 

 You licked a line up his neck before pressing your lips against his ear again. The pace of your hand increased, his chest rising and falling to match. "Remember that time in Mackall where we snuck into the parachute packing building and fucked on the silks. You couldn't wait to get inside of me and almost tore my new ODs. So I made you wait and watch as I started touching myself. After someone came in and we almost got caught."

 His hips were now rutting against your hand, the chair shaking with his movements.  His hands were in white-knuckled fists on the desks, trembling with his desire to get them on you. 

 Unable to help yourself, you grabbed his face with your free hand, turning it to press a bruising, messy kiss to his lips. He greedily took ownership of your mouth and deepened the kiss. He plundered your mouth with his tongue, reminding you how his mouth and skillful tongue alone could drive you wild. 

 Finally you broke away, pressing your forehead against his temple as you attempted to refill your lungs with the oxygen he had stolen. "God, I wish I could kiss you out there. Let everyone know I am yours. Maybe share quarters with you instead of sneaking around like teenagers. Fuck whenever we want."

 "I'd be the luckiest, fuckin' bastard in all of Easy. You're mine. My goddess."

 "There is one thing I need right now. I need the toughest, most handsome sonofabitch above me. I need my man inside me." You squeezed your hand, making him tip his head back and loudly groan. "Now the other NCOs are just downstairs. Think you can keep quiet?"

 He pressed a hard and fast kiss to your lips. "Oh darlin', it ain't me whose gonna have to keep from screamin'."

 "Mmm, think you can help me out?"

 "I'd do anythin' for ya…." He turned in his seat, hands now stroking your waist with a completely wicked and sinful smirk on his face. "Go lock the door."

 You stepped back, admiring the disheveled look on Guarnere, how his eyes blazed with passion and desire. For you. Without tearing your gaze from his, you shut the door and locked it behind you. 

 "Jesus Christ, you're a dream."

 "Only for you. Come on, Sergeant, show me how good you are with your...arsenal."

 Before you could move, he leapt out of his chair, making it clatter on the floor as it tipped over in his enthusiasm. He picked you up easily and tossed you on the bed. You laughed only to be immediately silenced by his mouth slamming against yours, a moan drawn from you as his talented fingers rid you of your clothing with an almost inhuman speed. 

 *****

 Later that night Guarnere was quite late for getting to the pub but he did not mind one bit. Especially since his bed now smelled like you…. And he had been able to remind you how much he loved you. 

 Quite vigorously. 

[chongoblog]

Zero Time Dilemma Review/Ramble

Okay, so if you’ve been following me, you know that I’ve gotten into the Zero Escape series, famous for 999 and Virtue’s Last Reward, streaming both games. I recently took the time to experience the last game, Zero Time Dilemma by watching cutscenes rather than playing it proper mostly because A) I heard it was REALLY dark and didnt want to risk it on Twitch and B) I wanted to experience it more freely like while I’m at work.

After experiencing it. I have......feelings about it. And because there’s MASSIVE spoilers involved, I’m making it its own post under the ReadMore below.

tl;dr LOADS of bullshit, flawed execution, and stupid decisions, but still REALLY enjoyed it

Okay so a LOT of this is going to be complaining, and like I said in the tl;dr I still legit enjoyed this game, so I’m gonna make this a compliment sandwich by saying something nice now, loading up on complaints, then ending with more compliments. Carlos is good. So is Sean. Sigma being voiced by Matthew Mercer actually makes him more interesting imo. I REALLY like Phi’s new design and the way they build on the initial concepts brought up in VLR more accurately portray the ideas that started all the way back in 999, that being the idea of taking thoughts across timelines, just like the player. From the beginning, the theme/gimmick was always “what if your character remembered information when you savescummed?” In 999 that began as flashes of information, and in VLR the characters’ consciousness actually time traveled at the very end. ZTD now uses the idea of the consciousness traveling across time and space and RUNS with it. I also think that Delta has a cool design.

I’ll be nice again later, but now for the things I Did Not Like.

Emo Moody Junpei makes sense from a writing standpoint, but that doesn’t mean I have to like him. Maybe I just got spoiled since Evan Wilson did a spectacular job with his deliveries in 999 and in ZTD it seems like his soul got sucked out. Not the fault of the delivery as much as it is the writing. Eric is bad, and I feel like that statement isn’t controversial. I don’t think anyone likes Eric, and if you do, then sorry for shitting on him so much, but god I just don’t like him. And the abusive childhood thing doesn’t give me a drop of sympathy, but then again I’ve always hated the writing trick that “this person is shitty and pathetic but it’s because abuse!” (see also Mikan). Diane is boring (sorry).

But I fuuuuuckin HATE Mira. I hate Mira so much. Like, at first I thought she’d be alright, yeah she’s definitely The Boob Character™, but I liked Lotus well enough and Alice grew on me significantly, so I don’t see why Mira won’t. Then she’s like “surprise I’m a serial killer”. Now if they just made her a serial killer, it would be kinda boring so I’m glad they TRIED something new. I just think the result was bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad bad. Like....”hmm I never felt any emotions so when my mom told me they were kept in hearts I just ripped em out of people :)” is some garbage I’d write in middle school when I felt especially edgy. Also yeah seems p ableist. I won’t go too deeper into Mira, since she’s a sociopath and I don’t know enough about the actual disorder to put a candle to the real thing, but....bleh.

I won’t touch on THIS aspect for too long because I’m aware that it had barely any budget and it wouldn’t have happened without a kickstarter (don’t know the details), but the animation is just....so stiff. It really takes away from the dramatic impact some scenes are meant to have. But even IF the animation wasn’t stiff, I still am not a big fan of the darker and moodier direction it went. Although that’s moreso down to personal preference. Final note about the presentation (which is by far the game’s weakest aspect) is that I noticed multiple points in the sound mixing got to nearly Sonic Adventure 2 levels of being unable to understand what people were saying.

Alright. Now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Let’s talk about Delta. This is going to make up a MAJORITY of this post so strap in.

Delta is a meme. There’s no other way to say it briefly. He’s just such a huge fucking meme. Almost everything about him, from his plan to his “complex” motives to his backstory to his powers. I mentioned liking his design, but fuck it. That’s a meme now too. Delta is the stupidest part of the game, and as much as I kind of love it, I also need to complain about it.

First let’s talk about Delta’s plan (because it starts with the nicest part of this segment). His motives are “complex” which is actually greek for “he’s probably either a liar, an idiot, or both”. I said there was nice things, so I’ll start with those. The very ending’s “ah ah ah. I never killed any of you in this timeline. If you arrested someone for crimes of another history, there would be criminals everywhere” was something I actually legitimately enjoyed. Yeah, intent was still there and he’s still a bastard (plus there was kidnapping and non-consensual drugging involved so kind of a stupid take), but I still thought it was a fun attempt. And also the “I had to make sure I was born” thing is a mindfuck, and I love those. Basically the first retort is “well I’m alive, right? So I don’t need to make sure I was born with powers because I WAS born with powers, which means it happened in another universe. So I don’t have to.” Only to then realize that we’re just in the universe where he DID do that but then the only justification is “someone had to” right? Wrong. Let’s talk about the rest of his “complex” motives

So I give a pass to “I had to make sure I was born”, but now we see why he had to do this whole deal and what he declares at the end of the game. That there’s some religious fanatic who intends to blow up the world and completely end humanity. And he released Radical-6 in the VLR timeline hoping that it would kill the terroris only killing 4 billion people instead of 6 billion people. In the timeline at the end of ZTD, he says that they had used this experience to hone the skills of the Shifters that way they could use their newly honed take down the religious fanatic WITHOUT Radical-6 and save the world.

What?

Now......before I tear into this.....I have ONE nice thing to say. The “unleash radical 6 and kill 4 billion vs let a terrorist end humanity” gambit IS cleverly foreshadowed with the radical 6 decision game with Q Team. But also wouldn’t that have made, like 1800 times more narrative sense to give that decision game to team D who KNOWS the impact of radical 6, or team C who he explains this plan to later on? Damn, even my nice thing was backhanded. Alright let’s REALLY tear into it.

FIRST of all, this is the exact same plot of Virtue’s Last Reward. Only difference is that somehow Akane and Junpei are just as skilled at this technique as Sigma and Phi despite the latter going to do Moon Training (granted the moon training was also to give them enough of a jump to go back 45 years). Speaking of Virtue’s Last Reward, this game also reveals that Delta is Brother, the leader of Free the Soul. A group of religious fanatics. So I wouldn’t be especially shocked if the religious fanatic is working with Free the Soul. But for the sake of this argument, let’s just say they aren’t with FtS. How in the Flavor-Blasted FUCK does he know this? Did somebody Shift back from that timeline and then just get Mind hacked (and we’ll fUCKING talk about Mind Hacking dont you worry)? How would that be the only piece of information known about the end of the god damn world? And if there IS more, then why the fuck wouldn’t you tell them the information? How does he know that it’s inevitable when apparently a god damn snail can unleash Radical-6?

I call bullshit on the “religious fanatic” thing. Wanna know why? Because at this point, Delta had already founded Free The Soul. He started this shit in 1938. At this point in time, he and the rest of the Free the Soul had already kidnapped Alice’s dad to create clones of his dead brother. He was pushing for a new world order and then in the VLR timeline, tried to PREVENT this whole thing from happening by sending Dio to the Moon. So if he actually gave a shit about “honing their abilities” then why would he do everything in his power to stop it? There is ONE out that there can be, but it’s something not even HINTED at (and I’ll talk about this later), but I think that "religious fanatic” is a big ol’ lie that he made up to try and save face when he was faced with a consequence, but even that explanation makes no sense since he’s like “lol shoot me if u wanna I wont mind hack you”

And let’s talk about mind hacking. Let’s fucking talk about Mind Hacking. Adding Mind Hacking was stupid, completely pointless, out of left field, and actively makes Delta a worse character. For those that don’t know, Mind Hacking is an ability that only Delta has (and I guess the player character technically but that’s a whole meta thing from VLR that doesn’t get followed up on) where you can read people’s minds and also fuckin control them. Why? Why was this necessary, ZTD? You wanna know what I thought was really neat? When I saw that different timelines produced different X-Codes. I thought “oh shit, I know this is Game Stuff, but the sheer foresight of the villain to do that? That’s some Moriarty shit.” It would require some insane explanations, but we’ve had enough sci-fi that we could imagine with enough advanced tech, you could set up systems that could use conditionals to give certain responses based on certain outcomes. Like if someone dies after the decontamination room button is pressed, then the central computer outputs a different X-Code than if it’s after the initial vote. Just make up a new tech that accounts for Shifting (plus the QUANTUM COMPUTER you have RIGHT THERE) and you could make a villain with so much calculated foresight that he’s just a god damn genius. But no. Mind hacking. None of that interesting stuff, just “lol I read ur mind idiot”. No outwitting anyone, just “lol get mindhacked eric u scrub bang bang”.

Honest to god, honest to FUCKING god, do you want to know how cool the final cutscene would have made Delta look if he walked out and just KNEW what happened in another timeline because of his plans. Like everyone recognizes him as Delta and he just goes “ohoho I see you had a fun time in my other timeline” using that deduction alone. But nah, he’s just like “yo I just mindhacked y’all, nice experience y’all had” I hate mind hacking so much. There’s no part of his plan where he NEEDED to mind hack in order to succeed that could have been written without mind hacking.

Now there’s a bit of a missed opportunity here that could both make mind hacking relevant, made his motive not shit, and also maybe even developed him into a SUPER interesting character! I know this is a bit fanfic-y, but hear me out. Make Delta a VICTIM of the stable time loop/bootstrap paradox. For those who don’t know, the bootstrap paradox is when time travel makes certain events happen seemingly out of thin air since they are their own cause. Basically it’s this clip from Milo Murphy. This is something that seems like it’s KINDA there in the subtext, but if they actually dove into it, they could have a GOLD mine.

What if we keep the mindhacking, and before he even MAKES Free the Soul, he mindhacks someone who experienced the events of the “religious fanatic”. But not just anyone. An experienced SHIFTer who made it their goal to stop this religious fanatic. After hundreds of attempts, they still fail. Delta sees this and determines it to be inevitable. So he’s having fun, cursed by the knowledge of an inevitable apocalypse. Then he meets Akane, Phi, Sigma, or Junpei after they had undergone the events of VLR and ZTD. He learns that particular timeline. A bleak future, yes, but one single future where humanity is alive. He sees two futures, one in which all of humanity dies, and one where he is the leader of a religious cult that wipes out 4 Billion People with a deadly pandemic. And the idea of being that person disgusts him. He despises it. But he’s completely resigned to fate. He knows that things must go precisely as he’s seen at the price of humanity, too frightened by such a burden to even take a toe off of the predetermined pathway. His motive is that he’s so tightly bound to fate and so afraid to let it slip that he has no choice but to commit the atrocities, despising himself for it every step of the way, but considering it better than the inevitable alternative. It would give a purpose for the mindhacking powers, it would give him a solid motive, and it would make the ending SO much stronger, showing the contrast between a group of SHIFTers confident that they can change fate and the man who is completely resigned to his own. Fuck, I might steal this character concept because I REALLY think this idea would work to make an interesting villain!

Like I mentioned, this is KINDA there in subtext (with him quite frequently saying “life truly is unfair”) and this could be an interpretation of the character, but if ZTD had explored that theme, then holy hell what an interesting character Delta would be.

But even WITH this fix, holy hell, this plan is stupid. Because guess what, dingus. You just created like 30 new timelines that all end in annihilation.

He coulda said ONE line about “even if there is only one history that ends nicely, that is solace enough”, that might have been dark, but still powerful. You know, add some depth. But instead, he’s just like “hmm hmm shoot me”

And the Q Twist? I’m honestly not as mad at it as I should be. On one hand, it does that cute thing where there are little bits of foreshadowing so when you rewatch it, you notice little bits like shadows and stuff, but on the other hand, there are PLENTY of points where either the camera just straight up lies to you and doesn’t show him when he should be there or Delta’s just been fuckin SHMOOVIN on his wheelchair around the room constantly to stay out of the camera and everyone’s just been kinda chill with it. Maybe if they had been more careful with the camera it could have delivered a TOUCH better. Like, even if the shots are a bit off, that’s noticeable enough to be part of the hint, no? I don’t have as much to say about this, mostly because this post is getting long as fuck so I’m gonna wrap it up so I can move on with my life for a bit.

So even with ALL OF THAT, I still enjoyed playing the game. That’s right, compliment sandwich time. The three wards all being one ward was a really neat reveal. The fact that you can shoot Delta in one scene is creative with its replay value. I’m glad they touched on the philosophical idea of what happens to the people who made it out from the coin flip only to get SHIFTed into the exploding lab, and exploring that idea was fun. I absolutely lost my mind at the idea of the gun to sigmas head had a random chance of firing and then seeing it elaborated on in the dice scene directly after it. Gab is a good boy.

Cant wait to play AI

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 9: Intruloceit (Pt 1)

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 9: When you write something on your own skin, it appears on your soulmate’s skin as well.

Content warnings: implied abuse (nothing graphic), self deprecation, some internalized homophobia concerning polyamory, angst. 

(Happy ending in next part)

Word count: 1.7k

Janus didn’t sleep the night before his eighteenth birthday. Instead, he sat curled up on his bed, wrapped in his blanket, watching the minutes pass in the dim light of his alarm clock. His heart pounded as it drew closer to midnight, feeling like the numbers on the display were a countdown to his death.

He didn’t have friends, and that wasn’t a topic he would ever admit to being sensitive about. Most people would spend the eve of their eighteenth birthday surrounded by their loved ones, count down the seconds until they reached the strike of midnight, and then huddle around the birthday person as they wrote a message to their soulmate for the first time. A little greeting, an introduction, something to begin the process of meeting the love of their life. In a decent amount of cases, probably half, Janus would speculate, they wouldn’t get a response until their soulmate also turned eighteen, but the first note was still a special moment; something to celebrate. He’d never been a popular person though, by any standards.  Even back in elementary school, his general dark demeanor and habitual lying kept people away from him. Sure, it would be more fun to play at recess with the other kids instead of laying in the sun and watching the clouds float by, but his defense mechanisms were not something he was going to let go of any time soon.

When his bedside display finally read 12:00, he expected to feel something. A shiver up his spine, a tingling under his skin, anything. But nothing happened, and he couldn’t tell if he was more grateful or upset. He stared down at his skin, pen held in his shaking hands, debating if he should do it. The minutes ticked by, suddenly a lot slower than when he’d been fighting for breath in anticipation and fear, and the pen continued to shake.

Downstairs, the front door slammed shut, causing Janus to flinch so hard the pen clattered to the floor. His dad wasn’t supposed to be home for a couple more days, and he could hear his mom voicing similar confusion as she made her way downstairs to greet him.

“Darrel? Did the trip end early?” He could hear the hesitation and uncertainty in her voice even from behind his closed door. His father had left with the excuse of a work trip. They both knew that wasn’t true, and both had an unspoken agreement to not say a word about it.

“What are you doing awake?” The man’s voice was gruff, sleep starved, annoyed. He clearly hadn’t intended to run into his wife, the soulmate he had stopped loving years ago.

“The headlights shone through the window, they woke me up.”

“Well, go back to bed. I don’t want to be grilled by you right now.”

“Do you want some dinner? I think there’s some leftovers in the fridge-”

“I said, go back to bed!”

“Darrel, please! You’re going to wake Janus!”

Janus shut his eyes and ears as the yelling started, abandoning the pen and what little excitement he’d had previously. Like every night, his sleep was as restless and chaotic as the day time, haunted with flashbacks and nightmares that he had no way to escape. Words hit with as much impact as fists, reminding him of how he was meant to be alone. A soulmate could never love a royal fuck up like him. His dad’s words echoed and distorted as the blows landed, shouts of unlovable and worthless setting in his mind as tombstones. Images of his parent’s failed bond rifled through his mind’s eye at record pace. Whether they were a one in a million flaw or just a cruel reminder that soulmates are never as perfect as displayed, he’d never know. All he knew is that he’d rather be alone for the rest of his life than be submitted to the fate that had befallen them, abuse and hatred but unable to leave, not with the expectations and stereotypes they lived under. ‘Soulmates were perfect, never failing, an unshatterable bond.’ Bullshit. He knew he was also subjecting his soulmate to a life alone, but his fear easily outweighed his desire to be loved, or his sense of compassion. 

He woke up the next morning with a new heaviness in his heart, glancing at the time habitually. It was ten minutes before his alarm, but the thought of going back to sleep was too daunting a quest, so he rolled off his bed and padded to the bathroom to get ready for school. It was his senior year, and no matter how much he would rather stay at home and mope in his room, zoning out as he tended to do, he needed his grades to stay decent. It was the only way he was getting out of here. Half asleep, he threw on his yellow comfort hoodie, a stark contrast to his mood. It had been a present from his mom a few years ago, given with the uncomfortable smile between two people who lived together but rarely spoke. 

He clambered down the stairs two at a time, freezing on the last step as his eye locked on the person in the kitchen. His mom sat at the table, nursing a cup of coffee silently, barely acknowledging he had entered the room. Without so much as a word, he scooted by her, eyeing the bruise forming on her left cheek and slunk out the door. They didn’t talk much anymore, why would today being his birthday change that?

The day was nothing out of the ordinary, and Janus didn’t know why that made a certain hole open up in his chest. Boring classes followed by lonely breaks, a quiet lunch hour in an abandoned classroom and an uneventful walk to the park after school. He preferred doing his homework anywhere that wasn’t home, especially now that his dad was back in town. He needed to get these done, and who knew what would pull him away from his work there. Besides, the grass was soft and the sun wasn’t too overbearingly hot, and he desperately needed a tan. The darker his skin, the more unnoticeable was the huge birthmark that covered the left side of his face, a little something that just made him that much more avoided by his peers.

His pen had barely scratched the paper when a tickle over his right arm made him gasp, like a feather ghosting over the skin. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was, and after a moment of adrenaline and panic, it occurred to him that no amount of putting it off would prevent the inevitable. He’d have to acknowledge his soulmate’s existence eventually. With a deep breath, he tugged the sleeve of his hoodie up, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

From wrist to elbow on his forearm, a deep blue ink had scribbled down bullet points that he must have not noticed throughout the entire day, since there were too many for them to have happened in the last few minutes. He started at the top, eyes drifting hungrily over the writing until he reached the last note, still being finished.

Chemistry test next Friday, study cephalopods

English paper on William Shakespeare, ask Roman for advice

Talk to Patton about moving movie night to next weekend

What far away is Andromeda from earth?

Fix V’s pin 

Yell at V to stop breaking their pins

Get dad to sign detention slip

Extra credit for calculus due tomorrow

Do you want to get coffee?

Janus froze. That last one… what the hell? Sure, his brain was decently sleep deprived, but he was almost certain he hadn’t written to his soulmate last night. Except, damn, that question certainly didn’t seem to fit in with the rest of his notes; it seemed aimed at someone. Nevermind how they knew he was there, knew he had turned eighteen, they were trying to contact him, and that was more important. He picked up his discarded pen off the grass, twirling it in his fingers. What should he say? Should he even say anything? His original plan to ignore his soulmate was suddenly significantly more difficult, now that they were making the first move. They were a real person, not just a stranger, no longer a figment of his imagination twisted into something evil. 

But before he could touch the tip to his arm to respond, to maybe introduce himself or ask where they were in the world (why were they offering coffee if they’d never even established where they lived, he wondered distantly), a barrage of green script exploded under his poised pen.

YES PLEASE! I was awake all night. I just saw your notes, you want help with the cephalopods? I can quiz you, I know everything about them. And I guarantee I know just as much about ya boi Billy Shakes as Roman, and I know the FUN stuff too! Not the prissy romancey stuff. Did V tell you their pin broke because they tried to stab me with it and hit my pocket knife? Because they did. What did you get detention for this time?

Even with the small writing, Janus had to rotate his arm to follow the messy scratching as the… new person continued to rant about their day. He sat in shock, not able to process what was happening. This had to be a mistake, right? It was astronomically rare to have more than one soulmate, and there was no way he was one of those people. He had never been special before in his life, in either a good way or a bad, so he in no way was deserving of… this. Maybe this was a mistake after all, just like his parents. Another cosmic fuck up, where he’d have to live out the rest of his life, watching the two people fall more and more in love while he looked on like a creep. Isn’t that what he deserved, though? The two other people obviously knew each other; two soulmates who must have turned eighteen before him and met a while ago, if their casual interaction was anything to go by. And… he couldn’t intrude on that. Even if he did, if he popped up out of nowhere like a bad cold, they wouldn’t want him to join their pre-established relationship already. They probably weren’t even polyamorous, and the whole idea would just make them uncomfortable. 

His mind was too far gone for homework. So with a lump in his throat the size of a meteor and tears stinging the corner of his eyes, he capped the pen, rolled down his sleeve resolutely, and packed up his supplies. Anything his dad would do to him would surely hurt less than this. 

[mishasminion360]

Space Age Love Song, Ch. 1

A Mandalorian x O/C Fic

Warning: Language

Notes: I’ve had this idea for awhile now and decided “why the hell not?” It’s been quite some time since I’ve written a full fledged fic, but I’m going to try to remain committed and complete this one. I already have a good idea of where I want it to go, so that’s a plus. Readers, you’re in for plenty of Mando romance, fluff, angst, action, and suspense. I hope you enjoy!

He crashed into her life like a falling star. The brightest star in the cosmos.

Ch. 1: Crash Into Me

The world was always a lonelier place at night. Rural Kansas appeared much more desolate in the dark; the roads and the land seemed to stretch on forever, both leading to nothing. The whistling of the evening breeze was the only voice to be heard for miles.

A half-drunk glass of whiskey in hand, Sara craned her head skyward to gaze at the stars. At most times, it seemed, they were her only friends. At least there were plenty of them to go around.

Her shift at the Hillsboro Community Hospital had been a grueling one this evening. She had just managed to drag her weary bones home a little more than an hour ago and already the night was creeping into day. Though exhausted, she’d suddenly found herself wired the second she’d pulled into her driveway at nearly 3 a.m. Now coming up on 4 in the morning, she downed the rest of her whiskey in hopes of calming herself long enough to drop into dreamland.

She had no reason to be awake so late, or early, rather. Sara had no one to pass the wakefulness with. The last of the only family she’d ever known had vanished from her life nearly a decade ago, leaving her with nothing but an old country house in the middle of nowhere that was far too big for a solitary woman such as herself. That house and memories.

There shouldn’t be any joy in the thought of coming home to an empty house. No happiness at the thought of eating alone, sleeping alone, living alone. But, as it began to happen more frequently, Sara came to realize that this rush of adrenaline she felt upon returning to her solitary homestead night after night was from the hope that she wouldn’t be lonely for long. One night she’d come home and there’d be someone worth coming home to. Someone waiting for her.

For now, though, Sara pulled herself to her feet, blinked the stars from her eyes, and prepared to head inside where she’d climb the stairs to her room and finally sleep the sleep of the dead.

She had just yanked open the finicky screen door when she heard a peculiar thoom! Her tired eyes returned to the sky to see that it was ablaze with light. A star, like a white hot ember, arced through the night, tumbling, tumbling down. So bright. So fast. So BIG.

That is not a star, she thought.

Sara watched the object’s decent with her heart in her throat. What if it was a meteor? Or a guided missile gone astray? Should she take cover? Would there be enough time? Would it even matter? The time she could’ve spent moving was lost to an endless string of “what if’s” playing on a loop inside her head, and by the time her brain managed to squeeze a logical thought about running into the mix, the object was crashing to earth in the field behind her barn.

She felt the impact from her porch; wobbled unsteadily on her feet as a tremor passed through the ground below. She could see the glow of flames in the distance. With the threat of a wildfire from space igniting the field beyond, with her house and all its memories in danger, she sprang into action.

Sara darted inside and made a beeline for the kitchen, retrieving the fire extinguisher from under the sink. Then, opting to take the back door, she darted back out into the chilly pre-dawn and ran as fast as her legs would carry her toward what she could only assume was Fox Mulder’s wet dream.

***

So, it definitely wasn’t a star. It wasn’t a meteor or a missile either. Nothing in her wildest dreams could have prepared her for what she was seeing. It was in pieces and it was on fire, but even partially destroyed Sara could positively identify (having watched enough cheesy sci-fi movies with her gramps to do so) an alien ship when she saw one.

“What kind of Superman origin story bullshit is this?” she wondered out loud.

The flames licking at the wreckage weren’t too big, and the small extinguisher did the trick for the most part. The dented silver exterior was still smoldering in some places by the time the canister was empty. Tossing the empty red cylinder aside, she stood and stared at the UFO in a mix of wonder and fear as another round of incessant questions bombarded her brain. Should she call someone about this? Who the hell was she supposed to call anyway: the cops, a scientist, the news, or all of the above?

With a startling groan of metal and a hiss of pressurized air, a large door at the rear of the ship (or was it the front? She had no fucking clue) descended, assuming a new role as a ramp, or so it appeared. It was almost as if the ship were inviting her inside.

Sara took a moment to peer into the vessel’s dark innards, then shook her head. She’d seen enough Ridley Scott movies to know that going inside was a terrible idea. Blindly investigating a mysterious extraterrestrial ship is how people ended up dead or, at the very least, pregnant with an alien baby. She wanted no part in either one of those scenarios if she could help it.

The rationalist inside of Sara urged her not to take another step farther; practically shouted at her to turn around and run the other way. But the nurse in her wouldn’t, couldn’t allow her to abandon someone who might be aboard and may be hurt, human or...otherwise. Damn. Sometimes she felt like she’d chosen the wrong profession.

Taking a cautious step up onto the ramp, jumping a bit at the echoing of her own footsteps, Sara called out to the darkness.

“Hello? Is anyone in there?”

When she got only silence for a response, she decided to forge on ahead into the belly of the great metal beast.

“Okay, I’m coming in so please just...don’t eat me and keep your tentacles to yourself.”

The cavernous ship was as black as night. In the distance she could see lights blinking, like stars in the night guiding her way. Sara felt along the walls blindly and inched forward with small, cautious steps.

“If anyone is in here be warned. I do not like surprises and, so help me, if you jump out at me here in the dark I will punch first and ask questions later.”

As she drew closer to the flashing lights, she began to hear noise. What sounded like about five different alarms were blaring, but still nothing resembling a voice.

Suddenly, the floor seemed to rise by a foot and she stumbled at the sudden change in elevation. Her arms flailed dramatically as she desperately reached for something, anything to grab onto. Sara hit the ground hard and loud, her cry of surprise cut short as her head thumped against the cold floor.

Disoriented from the blow, she looked up and took in her surroundings with blurred vision. The alarms screamed at her from every direction, which was doing absolutely nothing to help her gradually building headache, and the lights blinked furiously in sync with the shrieking sirens. She could make out other objects now, what looked like buttons and knobs and levers and screens all illuminated by the incessant flashing of the warning lights. Damn her shit luck. Alone on this alien ship and she’d managed to stumble (literally) into the freaking cockpit. But where was the pilot?

Okay, maybe whatever had been flying this saucer never heard her, had no idea she was here. Maybe it was an unmanned craft. There was still a chance she’d make it out of this incredibly foolhardy endeavor alive. Stiffly and carefully Sara rolled onto her back, glanced up, and immediately screamed.

A face, or at least what she assumed was a face, more like a mask of some sort, peered down at her from above. Stifling another cry, she scrambled up to a sitting position and shinnied away until she felt her back hit wall. Even with that outburst, the creature didn’t appear to stir. After a few minutes of heavy breathing and vigilant observation, it didn’t appear that the alien was conscious.

Before she even realized she was doing it, Sara was on her hands and knees, creeping closer to where the sleeping being was collapsed heavily in what she figured to be the captain’s chair. Upon closer inspection, it looked more like a man than a monster. A man (or a woman) encased from head to toe in a suit of shimmering silver armor. Hell, it could have been a robot.

Through the small t-shaped visor in the dome-like helmet Sara could see no traces of a face. She had no definitive way of knowing if the spaceman was truly slumbering or just waiting for her to get close enough to grab, and for a moment she hesitated to move any closer. But when she saw the small trickle of blood leaking from beneath the helmet and onto the right pauldron, her fear instantly vanished. Definitely not a robot; a living, bleeding person. RN powers activate!

“Hey! Hey, can you hear me?” Sara gave the shiny helmet a light tap, trying to conjure a response. “Come on spaceman, spacewoman, are you with me? Wake up!”

His or her head rolled limply to the side as the blood continued to run. Unconsciousness following a vehicular (or spacecraftular) crash was never a good sign, but Sara couldn’t know for certain until she saw the source of the blood how bad the damage was. Gripping the helmet between her sweating palms she began to slide it upward carefully. Before she could even get it past the wearer’s chin, a hand reached up and wrapped around her wrist, stopping her instantly. She flinched, in surprise rather than pain; their grip was unexpectedly gentle.

“Don’t-don’t take it off,” a very male voice stammered weakly. “You can’t...”

Sara was momentarily stunned. The alien spoke perfect English, and in a voice as soft as their grasp. She shook her head to reorganize her thoughts. This situation called for the utmost professionalism. When you’re a nurse, first impressions are everything. And she wasn’t representing just herself at this moment, but potentially the entire human race.

“Sir, I...it’s going to be alright, sir. I’m a nurse. I can help you, but I’ll need to assess the injury. I need to remove your helmet in order to-“

“Please...”

Sara had entered this ship expecting to find a monster ready to frighten her. What she’d never anticipated was that the monster could be just as frightened as she was. And that’s what she heard in the spaceman’s voice: fear. He was scared. Of her. And that’s when any remaining trace of her own fear vanished. She reached down and found one of his gloved hands and squeezed it gently in her own.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be alright. I’m going to help you. You’re safe.” With her other hand she caressed one side of his helmet and tried to imagine that she were stroking his own cheek. “You’re safe.”

He seemed to relax a bit under her touch, but that may have been from the second wave of sleep overtaking him. Sara released his hand, took a step back, took a deep breath, and began mentally preparing herself for the task ahead.

Dragging a snoozing spaceman all the way to the house was not going to be an easy task, but it was one that had to be done. As a nurse, she’d be damned if she’d let a patient, even an extraterrestrial one, die on her watch.

Sara slid her arms around the limp man’s chest and began the first chore: hoisting him out of the chair.

“Welcome to Earth.”

[bluecloudious]

Kinda angst I guess (but it has Zanaz so take that with a grain of salt)

Trying out writing a story this time.

I mean, yeah, I wrote for the comics, but not long dialog.

So yea, as per both the funni boys mature content warning. (There's no canoodling, there is talk of it tho.)

Also there's quite a bit of text (8 pages worth on Word)

So ye:

“Get up, I have some juicy gossip for you.”

...What?

I open my eyes and the world around me is blinding. It’s so bright that it takes a second to adjust to it. There’s nothing around me other than vast white and empty space.

This definitely isn’t Nevada anymore. (Unless Hank managed to ruin everything even further somehow.)

“Get up now, I know you heard me.”

I get up and look around. Who the hell is talking? There’s literally nothing but white for miles.

“I’m in your head, pretty boy.”

Uh, that…

“I’m holding my eyes closed, don’t worry. I regret ever having them open in here, in fact.”

Welp, that answers that. Now for the other question.

“Who I am is not important. What info I have, may be of interest, though.”

Alright?

“There’s a deal attached to this knowledge, Zanaz. Hear me out before you start fidgeting.”

I’ll sure try.

“You know Kits, right?”

No duh, he’s my best friend.

“Excellent. He’s going to die soon.”

…

What?! Wha, when, how, uh--

“Calm down, jitterbug. There’s nothing you can do to stop his fate, so don’t try. If he doesn’t die one way, another thing will go wrong. Understand?”

I-- NO! What the fuck?! Are you gonna kill him?!

“No, not me. I’m just sharing the news.”

Yeah, right, sure. Fucking… When then?

“Soon.”

How soon? In a month, week or a few days?

“Hm… A month then, give or take.”

...Fuck… How?

“Depends on what leads up to it.”

So, there are a lot of different ways it can happen, right?

“Indeed there are.”

...Do I die with him?

“No.”

NO?! In none of the different variations, I don’t die by his side?

“Oh, you can be by his side, of course. But death isn’t after you.”

What if I try to block a bullet, but it goes through both of us.

“Oddly specific. You’ll still survive.”

What if I block it with my head?!

“Brain damage, possible vegetable state. Will still survive though.”

What if Hank slices us with one of his multiple katanas?!

“People have lived through being sliced in half before.”

WHAT.

“This world has zombie clowns with god like powers and the AAHW is lead by a man consisting of black fire.”

...Ugh, fair enough. So… Wait those are all possible deaths for him?

“If you do everything in your power for it to happen, then yes.”

I… I can kill him before his time?

“Of course! You have free will, don’t you? It’s more of a question if you want to.”

Of course I fucking don’t! I care about him!

“I saw. You daydream about him an uncomfortable amount.”

He’s the main person I’m around, give me a break!

“Have you ever considered not being horny?”

Until I’m castrated, there’ll be nothing of the sorts.

“You’re not even fertile! None of the clones are!”

You think I’m tryna get anyone pregnant at this sausage fest? Besides, that has not stopped me before.

“I refuse to believe that any of those scenes I saw play out in your head happened for real.”

You’d be surprised then.

“WHICH?!?”

Those are for me to treasure.

“...You’re pulling my leg.”

Believe what you want.

“Augh, never mind, TMI. Back onto the topic at hand.”

Oh, yeah, right. Kit… Dying…

Could you for real not give me a date?

“If it depends on the circumstances beforehand, then there’s no possible way to tell which one belongs to this timeline.”

And that means…?

“I don’t know how this Kits dies.”

Can I at least warn him?

“Well, there’s where the other side of the deal comes in. If you tell him, then the effect kicks in immediately.”

What effect? Death?

“Precisely.”

...Ah. Wait, so if I don’t tell him, he dies in a month but if I do, he dies immediately? Of what?

“Stroke, heart attack or brain aneurysm. Chosen at random. Oh, also sneak assassination. That’s also a valid option.”

...This feels set up.

“Mh?”

This feels like either you or whoever sent you here set this up so I’d suffer. You enjoy the pain of others, don’t you?

“I’m only the messen--”

Yeah, yeah, Messenger Bullshit. Then whoever decided this is probably a reality tv producer, who is jacking off to someone pushing in the soft part of a baby’s skull as we speak. You encourage such behaviour by working with them, ya know.

“...Do you think you sound smart?”

I know for a fact I’m not, so no. I’m pretty sure I’m on the money with this one though.

“If I wasn’t here then Kits’ death would come as a surprise to you though!”

I’d prefer that, actually! Now I have to deal with knowing that he… He… Won’t be here anymore soon.

“Well, knowing how overwhelmingly perverted you are, wouldn’t you wanna grab this opportunity?”

...What?

“Shoot your shot, ask him out. Not like you could do it with a corpse… …Right…?”

I may be horny, but I’m not messed up.

“Had to make sure.”

Ugh, you’re just making fun of me, aren’t you?

“Which instance are you referring to?”

Kit would never date me.

“And why exactly do you think that?”

He has standards?

“You’re a decently handsome fellow. You also get along with him just fine.”

That… That’s not a determinant of shit like that. There’s way better out there for him.

“He won’t meet em then. Only a month to live, remember?”

I… It’s not worth it.

“What isn’t?”

I know he’ll say no, there’s no point in trying.

“How do you know for sure until you actually ask?”

Cause it’s obvious! He’s actually got a brain in his noggin and he knows me way too well! He’d be fucking disgusted, man! We’re just friends and that’s that.

“Do you not want to then?”

...Why do you assume I do? How do you know that those aren’t just blissful fantasies like the rest of them?

“He’s the only one that you dream of in a non-perverted way. I see no other person in this graphic landscape that you want to hold hands with. (Also, I am closing my eyes again now, Jebus Christoff.)”

...Ffffuck.

“Well, did hit the nail on the head?”

Y-You’re stupid and gay!

“I’m rubber, you’re glue.”

That doesn’t affect me, I’m already openly gay and stupid!

“I guess we’re both such then.”

Dammit.

“So, you gonna give him a month to remember or not?”

…Eh?

“Come on, how much romance could a member of the A.A.H.W. really experience throughout their lifetime? If you’d make this month worth his and your own time, perhaps it would be less painful to see him go? At least he died happy?”

THAT WOULD BE EXTRA PAINFUL FOR ME, THOUGH!

“Oop, Zanaz selfish, you heard it here first, folks.”

That’s not what I meant. I’d already be upset over losing my best friend, imagine how fucking devastating losing a sweetheart would be.

“…I dunno, still sounds selfish to me. Does his happiness not mean anything to you?”

Who says he’d be happy with me?

“I know you want to make him happy, at least. You dream about his smile.”

STOP FUCKING LOOKING THOUGH MY THOUGHTS!!

“I’m not looking anymore, I just memorized the ones I already saw. (I wish I couldn’t.)”

I- You- Fucking-- UggHHH! It’s not worth it!

“What exactly do you imagine will happen if you tell him how you feel, huh? World combusts?”

I already told you, he already knows way too much about me! He’d be fucking grossed out and we’ll… We’ll stop being friends.

He’d quicken his pace whenever we’d have to pass each other in one of the halls. He’d desperately keep his glance away from me. He’d… I’d stop being the main person he talks and comes to company for a-and I can’t fucking have that, man!

I-I wouldn’t be able to handle it. He means too much to me.

“…I had no idea you were this insecure.”

FUCK OFF! It’s a bitter reality that I’ve come to accept!

“You haven’t even given it a shot!”

You don’t need to get crushed by a piano to know you’d die on impact!

“Those two things don’t correlate even remotely!”

It’s a metaphor!

“I know that, I’m saying that Kits has a thing for you too!”

…He what?

“He has major league crush on you! The things you say when play-flirting excite him! He’s gotten off to the thought of you touching him up! The works! (Why did I word it like that?)”

Whuh-- How the fuck do you know this??

“While you were monologuing, I visited his subconscious and confirmed it for myself.”

You can do that??

“You don’t even know my name.”

...Fair nuff. So, wait, he’s actually gotten off thinking about me?

“I don’t even need to open my eyes to already know you’re imagining it. Short answer, yes. He’s into you, Zanaz.”

Augh, I dunno what to do with this info. It’s kinda... Overwhelming in a way.

Actually, wait, how do I know you haven’t been lying to me this whole time?

“I’m an incorporeal voice in your head that’s having a back and forth with you in a white void.”

Yeah, and?

“…I’m supernatural?”

Yeah, and?

“Come on! I just know, okay?!”

Sounds fake, not gonna lie.

“The part where I knew that Kits was gonna die was convincing, but the moment I mention that he might have a thing for you, you question the validity of my claims thus far??”

One sounds way more far-fetched than the other, you gotta admit.

“NO IT DOESN’T?!?!”

For you maybe! I’ve known him since I’ve been out the cloning tube! We became agents together! I think I’d know what kinda stuff is off the table for him, buddy.

“Well, not only are you wrong, you’re in denial.”

I am not!

“Then try it! Just attempt asking him out! In the very least, you’ll remain friends after. I promise you. Cross my heart and all that jazz.”

…

…You’re absolutely positive? You are also the person that told me he’d die in a month’s time.

“A hundred percent positive. I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You have a life?

“Unfortunately. So, you’ll do it?”

Why’re you so adamant about me fucking Kits?

“Affgdgfdgfg, it’s not about you fucking him, it’s you making his last living month worthwhile!”

Okay, so, why do you want me to do that?

“…Do you not??”

I mean, I guess that sounds worth my time. But you didn’t answer my question.

“Sorry for assuming that you want the person you’re madly in love with to be happy, I guess??”

Apology accepted. Now, how do I get outta here?

“Ugh, just wake up.”

Whu--

And I’m sitting up in my own mat, back at the facility. The clock shows that it’s early morning.

What the fuck do I make of what I just saw? Or heard, for that matter? It clearly wasn’t a normal dream, I never remember those. Plus the topic tends to blur together usually.

I gotta tell-- Wait, I can’t do that, fuck.

…

It’s way to early for shit like this, man!!

Augh…

[talesfromunderthemattress]

Tales from the Lockdown: Now Or Never

Hey guys, here’s the first of some new stories about this strange fuckin’ time we’re living in. Let’s kick it off with a nice deep #longread...

Coach Preston was in a mood. All week long, he’d been a little on edge, keeping one eye on the regular news, the other on the sports news, waiting to see which way things would go. All the coaches had been, and like them, he’d done his best to keep a poker face around his guys, a whole chin-up-and-keep-pushing thing. They were athletes, after all, and athletes in a sport that required particular focus. But they were students, too – hell, they were people – and he knew all the uncertainty around the virus situation had all kinds of impacts on them. What about spring break, and the end of the semester beyond that? Would the campus close? What about classes, and finals, and graduation?

So he’d been feeling the tension, his and his guys’, and then everything started to happen all at once, with surprising speed. The AD announced all the varsity sports activities were being suspended, and then the conferences all got canceled, and then just this afternoon, the Chancellor had put the word out that classes were going online and the campus would mostly be closing. At least two weeks, probably more, and if everyone was really being honest, the rest of the semester was pretty much in the shitter. Which meant his guys were definitely done for the semester, and so was he, for the most part. No more wrestling, no more coaching, not much but some administrative bullshit to deal with, and it looked like he’d be taking care of that from his dining table from now on, from the sounds of things.

It was a lousy way to end the season. The guys had wrestled decently, but they hadn’t made the DIII Championships this year, so shutting everything down so early felt like getting kicked in the ass twice. They’d had one last practice, but it had felt half-hearted, much as he and the other coaches had tried to keep their spirits up. Nobody had wanted to really say it, that it was over for this year. Nobody wanted to talk about the bigger picture either, about what was happening outside their smallish campus, in their little corner of the world. Instead, everyone seemed more subdued, inside their heads about everything, and Preston was no different. That shit was contagious too, and it had finally caught up with him, now that he was in his little office, packing up everything he’d need to work from home for who the fuck knew how long.

He wasn’t really in the mood for the knock on his door, but he was still on the job, so he did his best to make his expression neutral as he turned to see who was interrupting his funk.

“Coach P?”

It was Keene, and shit, that was maybe the last person he needed to see right now. Yeah, he was glad to see him – he was always glad to see him, and maybe that was part of the problem. Keene was one of his better wrestlers, solid and dependable, disciplined without being a freak about it, quietly confident in his strengths, but still able to learn. He was a good teammate and a great student, not just here in the wrestling complex, but in class too. Preston was sorry to see him go, but then that was the nature of the job, he guessed. Sooner or later, they all graduated, and then a new set of guys would come to be trained and molded, and hopefully sent out into the world stronger and better men. Still, even though he’d known Keene was one of the ones graduating, he hadn’t expected they’d be parting ways this early.

“Just wanted to drop by and check in with you before, you know… everything,” Keene said with his easy smile, and here was the exact problem – the kid was beautiful. He wasn’t the handsomest of Preston’s current wrestlers, or the most powerfully built – that was a tossup between Halvorson and Washington, probably, and it made him feel a little guilty every time he thought that to himself, but hell, facts were facts. He wasn’t the first coach to ever think that way, and he sure wouldn’t be the last. 

With his regular kind of features and his nondescript haircut, it’d be easy to look past Keene. But there was a quiet handsomeness to him, and he had a good strong frame that was solid with lean, tight muscle. He filled out the Drake U sweatshirt and jeans he was wearing right now very well, and a singlet even better. Every once in a while, a guy came along who was the package, and with his regular-guy good looks, his crop of auburn hair, and his quiet confidence and athletic skill, Keene was definitely that package. So maybe it was better he was heading off into the next phase of his life, and out of Preston’s. Not right now, maybe, but better in the long run, for sure. For everyone involved.

“Well, I appreciate it,” Preston said, and meant it, as he put down the file box with all the shit he’d packed to work from home with, and shook the young man’s hand. Nice firm grip, solid and confident, just like the rest of him. Yeah, Preston was sorry to see him go, alright. “You heading out?”

“Eh, after the weekend, I guess,” Keene shrugged. “Still gotta pack up the apartment, and I figure since they cancelled classes next week, I’d take my time.”

“Good call,” Preston nodded. “Might as well enjoy your last little bit of normal time before things get weird.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Keene chuckled. “Speaking of that…”

For the first time Preston could remember since the kid’s sophomore year, Keene looked a little bit less than quietly sure of himself, but it passed quickly.

“I was gonna head to the Grill, get something to eat one last time, maybe have a beer,” Keene went on. “Can I buy you one? Y’know… for old times’ sake?”

Preston smiled to himself. The kid was 22, the hell did he know about “old times” yet? His Coach mode kicked in a little, automatic, thinking about fraternizing and how it would look, drinking a beer with one of his athletes. But it wasn’t technically forbidden, he guessed, and Keene was legal and responsible, and about to pretty much exit his life anyway. Not really one of his athletes anymore, technically speaking. Plus, these were strange times, and probably only getting stranger. He thought about how he’d been feeling since all this shit had started to go down, broody and in his own head a lot, like big, important things were just slightly beyond his control. One last beer with a favorite student, a guy he’d come to know and like and respect, and would miss? Fuck it. He could use the break. 

And, if he was truly honest with himself, one more chance to spend a little time with probably the hottest young man he’d ever encountered. 

“Sure, what the hell,” Preston said. “Give me thirty, and I’ll meet you over there.”

“Awesome,” Keene said, “I’ll see you there.” He genuinely looked a little excited, which made Preston’s cheeks prickle in that way that always made him feel like he should back off, so he wouldn’t get himself in trouble. But fuck all that, he decided.

“Looking forward to it, bud,” he said, and it was the first thing he’d felt sure of all week.

*   *   *

Preston had gone into this thinking it’d be just one beer, some kind of awkward conversation with a student, and then one last stilted goodbye before the young man headed off to the next part of his life, and Preston returned to his little house to grow his beer buzz on his own while he looked at some porn and jerked off. 

Or, if he was being honest with himself, think about Keene peeling out of his singlet, and jerk off.

But instead, he was having a good time. Keene was a good conversationalist, sharp-witted but easygoing. He had the same kind of quiet confidence out here as he did on the mat, but now he could let his dry wit show too, engaging with Preston as a person, not just as a student. Preston wasn’t usually given to talking about himself much, at least not with students, so he was a little surprised to find himself doing it now, Keene drawing him out not just about wrestling, but his career, his life growing up back in Michigan, the things he liked to do now, outside of coaching.

Preston signalled the bartender for a second round without really thinking about it.

“This one’s on me,” he said, and Keene smiled and nodded his head just like he did whenever Preston complimented him after a meet. Modest but genuine. 

“Much obliged, Coach,” Keene said, and that quiet trace of Carolina drawl to his voice made Preston’s cheeks tingle in that weird little way again. Probably better to steer the conversation away from himself now. He was used to keeping himself compartmentalized in certain ways, and this seemed like a good time to do that, even if this really was probably the last time he’d see this kid.

This man, he corrected himself, and that didn’t help matters one bit.

The second round went down pretty easy, especially once he’d redirected the conversation mostly back on Keene, sitting back on his barstool and sipping steadily as the young man talked about his summer plans, then law school in the fall, and what he thought might be beyond that for him. By the time Preston realized he’d drained his glass, he was feeling that nice warm glow in his belly and a pleasant little buzz in his head. 

Shit, it felt good to relax for once. He hadn’t realized how uptight he’d been this past week or so. Longer than that, even, but listening to Keene talk, watching his handsome face, letting the beer unwind him… yeah, he was feeling real good. There was that part of his brain that always stayed alert, on guard against doing anything stupid, but it was quieter tonight. It let the rest of his mind wander, and his eyes a little with it, taking in the shape of Keene’s broad shoulders, the power in his neck, the way his sweatshirt hinted at the firm, tight pecs beneath it. The way the denim clung to his athletic thighs, spread comfortably wide as he side-saddled his barstool. It was a little weird, talking to somebody fully clothed, while knowing pretty much exactly how their body looked underneath. Being able to picture it clearly in your head. Someone you weren’t intimate with, anyway. But then, his was a pretty intimate job, in its own way. Dangerously so, sometimes. 

Like now, listening to Keene talk, picturing in his head the way the young man’s tight, but powerful body shifted under the second skin of his singlet, how the smooth skin over the twin mound of his pecs gleamed with sweat after a bout under the bright overhead lights in the gym. Thinking way in the back of his mind, almost subconsciously, about the tension he’d felt most of his life, between the part of him that was born to wrestle, and the part of him that was born to be with another man. How much he’d come to love those two sides of himself, and how much he hated that tension between them.

So when Keene noticed Preston’s empty glass and held his own mostly empty one up, eyebrows raised, silently asking the question, he hesitated. Felt that tension rising again, that ever-present, unwelcome fact of his life.

“What do you say, Coach?” Keene asked, and there was a subtle, easy looseness to his words now too. “No class tomorrow. And shit, not like I’m on my training plan anymore…”

He blushed a little at the unguarded curse word, looking for a moment like the still slightly unsure kid Preston had first met four years ago. “Sorry, Coach.”

“Fuck it, buddy,” Preston said, giving Keene’s muscle-solid upper arm a playful smack. “Feels like the world’s about to go to shit anyway. We can live a little, right?” Keene gave him another smile, loose and easy, and Preston felt his cheeks tingle under his beard even more. But still, he signalled the bartender again, then excused himself and headed for the restroom.

You did a good job with him, he thought as he stood at the urinal, trying not to enjoy too much the feel of his cock, pleasantly warm and thick in his hand. Not that he could take all the credit, of course. Keene had parents who’d made and raised him, other coaches and teachers along the way. But it was a special thing, the bond with your coach – Preston still felt the ways his coaches had molded him over the years, like muscle memory. Could still hear their voices in his head, feel their guiding touch on his skin from time to time. Some more than others. But if he kept thinking like that right now, he’d get himself in trouble. Best to save it for later, when he was on his own again, kicked back in the armchair of his quiet little house, free to let his imagination wander as he slow-stroked himself. It was definitely shaping up to be that kind of night, and he was frankly looking forward to it. But he wasn’t in any rush to part ways with Keene just yet, either. 

You know who else has got a nice thick dick… he thought some more, flashing on an image of Keene in his handsomely packed singlet, and he felt his cheeks prickle even more intensely beneath his beard as he grinned slyly to himself. He needed to watch himself and make this his last round, that was for sure. He could think about Keene and his big ol’ dick some more later, on his own. Yeah. He was definitely looking forward to that.

Their third round had arrived while he was gone, but Keene had waited for him to return before he took a sip. That was him all over, good-mannered, polite and deferential. Preston wondered if he was always like that. He got to see a lot of guys up close and personal, get to know them on some pretty deep psychological levels sometimes. He’d been working with Keene for just about four years, and he knew the guy had plenty of layers to him. Preston was real interested in those layers, and seeing what was underneath them. 

“Well, here’s to the untimely end of a weird-ass season,” Keene said as they lifted their beers to each other. “And to who the hell knows what comes next.”

“You’ll be fine,” Preston said. “No matter what else, I’m pretty sure you of all people have got this.”

Keene smiled that modest but pleased smile at him again, and it was definitely the beer buzz coming on stronger that made him think it, but god damn those were some pretty lips on him. Shit. Still, he took another sip, because fuck it, it was like the kid said – who the hell knew what came next? He was kind of tired of trying to game it all out. The rug had been pulled out from underneath everybody, and all they could do was just ride it out and see where they all landed.

“Yeah, you think so, Coach?” Keene said, and there was that unusual trace of uncertainty again. Preston looked at him squarely, nodded, smiled at him. He’d always been told he was good at that part of the job especially – calming a guy down when he got uptight about himself, working through it with him, making him see he had it under control.

“Magna cum laude, Stanford Law, good head on your shoulders, good looks… yeah, you got this, bud,” he said, feeling his cheeks tingle some more as he heard back in his head what he’d just said. But fuck it. It was already out there. And the way Keene’s eyes locked in on his, those pretty lips of his smiling a little wider, seemed like it had been well received.

“Gee, all that, huh Coach?” Keene said with a gleam in his eye and that new flirty edge to his smile, and sure, Preston had already been quietly hooked on this good-looking fucker, but now that his defenses had come down some, the kid had him good. And fuck if he didn’t seem to know it, too.

Preston took another solid draw on his beer, then nodded, seeing the quick, subtle way Keene looked him up and down. Sizing him up, just like he did with his opponents on the mat. But this was a whole different game. But is it, really? he thought, feeling his cheeks prickling from the flush of alcohol and the feelings inside of him. Probably starting to blush a little, under the thick dark hair of his beard, but who the fuck cared, right? He set his beer down, wiped his lips on the back of his hand, and gave Keene a slow up-down look of his own, coming to a decision even before he knew he was doing it.

“Big dick too,” he said, holding Keene’s bright gaze, his voice thick with beer and pitched low, man-to-man confidential, and yeah, now he knew he was blushing. Part of him wondering why the fuck he’d just said that out loud, and another part wondering why the fuck he’d waited so long to say it.

Keene’s eyes widened a little in surprise, but he covered it smoothly as he brought his own beer up to his mouth. “You noticed, huh?” he said with a little smirk and took a sip, and all Preston could do was nod and hold the kid’s gaze. Seeing Keene tease away another layer of himself, just for him, and wanting to see a whole lot more. 

“I’m glad you did,” Keene said as he set his glass down, looking back at him squarely. There was that quiet, easy confidence he’d always showed so well. “Noticed you too.”

“Yeah, buddy?” Preston said, his voice sounding thick and a little rusty. Fuck, it had been a long time since he’d done this, and it felt real damn good to be doing it. Keene nodded. “Well I’m glad you did too.”

“Couldn’t help it,” Keene said quietly, giving him another, more obvious up-down sizing up, slower this time. Preston subtly squared his shoulders, knowing they looked good in this sweater. He might not have Keene’s 30-inch waist, but he’d always been powerfully built, and he’d grown into his body well. He had 15 years on this kid, and they’d added up on his frame pretty nicely. Now Keene was letting him see he liked the sum of his parts too.

“Neither could I,” he said, feeling the full-on flush in his cheeks now, admitting shit a coach was never supposed to say, and especially not to one of his guys. But everything else was fucked and turning upside-down now, so might as well let all of that go. At least for tonight.

“Well then,” Keene said. “Here we are.”

“Yeah,” Preston said, saying the next part without even thinking about it. Sometimes it was best not to second-guess your instincts.. “You wanna go someplace else?”

“Fuck yeah I do, Coach,” Keene grinned.

*   *   *

Where Keene wanted to go was Preston’s place, because even though half of campus had seemingly emptied out overnight with the news of the impending shutdown, there were still quite a few people around the big apartment complexes over where Keene lived. 

“Might not be a good look, for you to be seen going into my place and… staying awhile,” Keene said as they walked the couple of blocks from the Grill to the little place Preston rented. It was smarter than driving, the responsible behavior to model for a student. Thinking that had made him want to laugh out loud, but here they were anyway.

Preston shot him an amused, buzzed grin. “‘Awhile,’ huh? You’ve been giving this some thought.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Keene said, with a little grin of his own. “Why do you think I asked you out for that beer?”

Oh you’re going to do just fuckin’ fine in this world, whatever happens, kid, Preston thought, feeling a hearty tingle spreading through the crotch of his jeans. He reached out to give Keene’s arm another playful tap, and this time added a little squeeze to it too. Just fuckin’ fine.

He told himself it wasn’t nerves as he fumbled with his keys, trying to unlock the side door to the house, just a little case of beer-induced fumble-fingers. Feeling Keene standing behind him at a respectful distance wasn’t helping him much, either. Then he felt Keene step in a little closer, and his light, almost tentative touch on his shoulder, and all of a sudden the right key presented itself and slid smoothly home in the lock, and they were stepping into the kitchen.

He slipped the keys and his phone onto the counter, then turned back to Keene, seeing the young man standing there, looking at him neutrally, quietly poised like most wrestlers he knew tended to do. Like they were at practice and he was awaiting Coach Preston’s go-ahead to engage.

“You want a drink?” Preston asked after a long, silent moment between them.

“Not really, Coach,” he said. “I’m good.”

“Yeah, guess I am too,” Preston said. He wasn’t much of a drinker anymore, so the three beers tonight had been plenty enough. Hell, look where they’d gotten him. But he liked being here, and he wanted to really be here for it. 

“You sure are,” Keene said, smiling, and fuck, these last few years quietly, furtively thinking about him in his off-hours still hadn’t prepared Preston for all this. Even less so when Keene set his phone down on the counter too, and stepped in close.

“We’re good, Coach,” he said, and when he tilted his head in towards him with that easy self-confidence of his, Preston was more than ready to meet him.

Keene’s lips were even better than he’d imagined. Not only did they look great, all full and sensual, they worked real well too. They were plush and mobile, welcoming and seeking at once, and Preston tried to restrain the hunger inside him, and just focus on enjoying the electric connection between them. He reached for Keene’s sharp-edged jaw as he kissed him back, and Keene’s hand found its way to his hip to squeeze him, easy and natural. Preston couldn’t stifle the little moan he let out at that, and he sure wasn’t going to stifle his tongue, as it flicked those soft, warm, welcoming lips of his favorite student, and found itself well received.

Keene’s tongue met his in a warm, wet clash, swirling against each other before it slid confidently past his and filled the rest of his mouth, smooth and easy. Fuck, Preston had missed this – not just kissing another man, but another man who kissed well, kissed like he loved to do it just as much as Preston did. His hand slid up Keene’s jaw to cup the back of his head, and now both of them moaned together as their tongues danced with each other, Keene’s other hand finding his right hip, both hands moving smoothly over his solid flanks, up and down, drawing him even deeper.

Preston wanted so bad to take hold of Keene’s ass. It’s what he’d wanted most these past three, four years, covertly eyeing Keene’s powerful, athletic frame as it worked. Maybe it was those last remnant traces of his Coach brain holding him back, but it was like Keene sensed it, sensed his coach’s hand lingering so close to the strong arc of muscle and flesh filling the seat of his jeans, sensed his hesitation to reach for it. He shifted his hips a little and brushed up against Preston’s big, wavering hand, gave the man’s tongue a little English inside his mouth, and Preston got the fuck over himself and took his fine young ass in hand at last.

It wasn’t like wrestling had any kind of shortage of great asses, and Preston often thought one of the fringe benefits of his job was getting to see so many of them, showed off so well in tight spandex singlets and practice shorts and sweatpants. Keene’s ass, though… like the rest of him, it stood out, literally and figuratively, one key part of the package that made the kid so fucking compelling. It was high, tight, perfectly rounded, with the deep indentations on the sides that marked a truly powerful set of glutes. Preston mentally bit his knuckles every time he saw it shifting, flexing, tightening and tensing under the shiny dark blue of Keene’s singlet. It wasn’t as compact as some of the smaller guys on his squad, not as meaty and jigglesome as the bigger guys in the heavier weight classes. Keene’s ass was just right, poetry in motion every time he moved, twin globes of coiled power designed to push and drive and thrust. And now it was in his hand, both of his hands, clasping and squeezing the steely, muscular tightness of the kid’s cheeks. Keene chuckled a bit into his mouth as they kissed, alternately tensing and relaxing, putting on a little show for his avidly squeezing paws, knowing just what his coach wanted, needed as well as Preston did himself. For maybe the millionth time, Preston wondered what this perfect athlete’s ass would look like naked, spread before him to explore more deeply, and whatever else came out of what they were doing together now, before it ended, he hoped to finally find out in the flesh.

He probably could have done this all night, and Keene didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry either. Somehow they’d worked their way to the other side of the little kitchen without him even registering it, and now the doorframe leading into the hall was pressing up his spine, and Keene was pressing into him, kissing him like the man he’d truly grown into. The kid was a fucking rockstar at this, even more than all the other shit he’d excelled in. Now Preston could feel the hardness in Keene’s jeans, his spectacular ass shifting slowly, rhythmically in Preston’s tight, coveting grasp, pressing the long, thick shape of his hard young cock against his thigh while they kissed deep and wet. He knew how big the kid was, had seen the shape of it hinted at in his singlet all these years, the mound of it stuffed heavy inside his sweaty underwear when he peeled his singlet off after a hard bout. He’d done way more than his fair share of looking at it, but feeling it against him right now was on a whole other level. It felt twice as big to his hungry imagination, big and urgent and ready for more. Ready for anything and everything, and Jesus fuck, Preston was too. So ready.

“I want this, Coach,” Keene murmured huskily, pressing just about the full length of his lithe, powerful body up against Preston’s. Keene had always brought a subtle kind of intensity to his work on the mat, eager to compete, but somehow thoughtful about it too. He was sure bringing it to this, to them right now. Preston was used to him in student mode, always listening and learning, observing. But the dynamic had shifted. He wasn’t just showing Preston what he could do, he was letting the man see who he was and what he wanted. Not quite a role reversal, more leveling the field of play, and it struck a chord real deep inside Preston, one that made his cock pulse inside his own jeans, made his asshole and insides tingle hungrily for more. Much, much more.

“Fuck, I want it too, buddy,” Preston half-moaned in reply, clutching the fabric of his sweatshirt in both fists as Keene’s tongue glanced at his lips playfully.

“I’m all yours,” the kid breathed, slipping Preston his tongue for a quick, searching, lusty kiss. “Show me what you want, big guy.”

Preston did. He stood Keene in front of his bed, the wrestler assuming that poised, ready, waiting stance again as Preston took a moment to drink in the sight of him. Something he’d long imagined, and part of him was still thinking he was imagining this, them, right now. But no, Keene was here in his bedroom, very real and alive, looking at him with something like amusement, that easy, flirty smile spread across his sensual lips, and fuck, he was just about the most beautiful thing Preston had ever seen. Wrestling had more than its fair share of young Adonises, but Keene was on another level. He was the only one who’d ever captivated Preston like this, and the only one he’d ever come this far with, at least as a coach.

He felt a little twinge inside at that, some remnant guilt born of years of rigorous separation of his desires and his duty. But it was just a little twinge, and it was no match for the hot, hard pulse of his cock inside his jeans now as he reached out to touch Keene, just sampling his perfect young form, coveting him with something more than just his eyes and imagination at long last. His hands reached for Keene’s taut, almost impossibly narrow waist, feeling the young man’s hips shift into his grasp permissively, and then traveled up the strong taper of his lats, savoring the way Keene’s body moved with him, almost anticipating his next touch, ready to receive it and inflame him even more.

Preston’s hands snagged Keene’s sweatshirt, the T-shirt beneath it coming free of the kid’s jeans, and Keene raised his arms up, both anticipating and guiding Preston. He took hold of the upper layers and peeled them up, looking down to see the way Keene’s abs rippled and shifted, taut creamy skin dusted with brown fur and stretched tight across them. Keene helped him out, reaching for the hem of his sweatshirt and tugging the two layers the rest of the way up and off, and Preston had to bite his lip at the sight of him. He’d seen it a hundred times before, but that was always in the context of the gym, his duty. Now it was deeply, intimately personal.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he heard himself murmur, and Keene let out a soft laugh at that.

“Thanks, Coach,” Keene smiled modestly. “Mighty fine yourself, big guy,” he said, then reached for Preston, pulling him close and kissing him with that easy, confident skill he had in spades, pulling at the older man’s sweatshirt as he did.

“God I’d love to be this big,” Keene muttered a few minutes later, tracing his hands over the thickly muscled, dark-furred contours of Preston’s arms, shoulders, chest. “Always loved how friggin’... powerful you look, Coach.”

Preston felt deeply thrilled inside, not just from Keene’s coveting touch, but his words, the earnestness in them, and the hungry way his eyes moved over Preston’s flesh.

“You’re plenty big yourself, bud,” Preston murmured, playing his big hands over the powerful musculature of Keene’s upper arms, the rounded, hard-packed swells of his shoulders, stroking down over the twin plates of his big young pecs, two slabs of lean muscle capped with big, stiff nips almost the same color as his lips. His mouth literally watered as he brushed over them, listening to Keene’s soft, sharp inhale of breath, feeling them stiffen even further as his palms stroked over the little peaks.

“Big all over,” Preston said, working up the balls to do what came next, as one hand reached down to ghost over the big, long bulge in the kid’s well-packed jeans. Keene bit his lip again and let out another soft sound of pleasure as Preston’s palm pressed down more firmly on that big, enticing bulge. He felt it throb back against him, a tangible shift in response, and let out a little laugh of surprise that got a chuckle out of Keene too.

“So they tell me,” the kid said. “You wanna find out for yourself, Coach?”

Jesus, was Preston ever this confident when he was this kid’s age? He didn’t think so, not like this, anyway. But then, Keene had plenty to be confident about, and a lot of it was throbbing underneath his palm right now. He felt another hot flare of lust burn through him, from the belly out, and nodded. Yeah, he wanted to find out for himself. He hadn’t wanted anything so badly in a real long time.

This time it was him leaning in to initiate another hot, lusty round of wet, lip-smacking kisses as his thick fingers found Keene’s belt, working it open on autopilot as their hungry tongues worked on each other. He could feel the tight, hard muscles of Keene’s abs moving against the backs of his fingers as he undid the button on his jeans, and then the subtle heat seeming to flow out of them as he worked the zipper down and pushed them open. Keene held the back of his head with one confident, intimate hand as they kissed long and deep, Preston’s hands steady and firm as they pushed the kid’s jeans down over the immaculate curve of his ass, down his long, lithe thighs. His hands came up to cup that ass again, feeling it shift and flex as Keene rocked his hips forward and pressed the big, hard bulge in his trunks against Preston’s own thick tent. Preston grunted into his mouth, and got something like a chuckle back as their tongues lashed and slid around each other for one more round.

“Fuck, kid,” he grunted, looking down between them, past the tight definition of Keene’s abs to the hefty mound in his shorts. He trailed his fingers over it, Keene sighing quietly as he traced along the length, outlining the shape of it in the stretched blue fabric of his undies.

“You like?” Keene said, and Preston just nodded, barely able to tear his eyes from it. He’d been thinking earlier about Keene unpeeling layers to show him what was beneath, who he was at his core, and now it was his turn to do the same, felt like.

“I’m glad, Coach,” Keene murmured to him, hand firm but easy as it rubbed the short thick hairs on the back of his head. “It’s all yours if you want it, sir.”

Preston dropped to his knees with a heavy thud on the hardwood floor, not even thinking about it, just following the instincts he’d alternately embraced, forced aside, and suppressed so much over the years. He stroked his hands over the long, muscle-dense columns of Keene’s thighs, savoring the way his big quads shifted as the kid toed off his sneakers and stepped out of his jeans. He was already reaching for his underwear, but Keene beat him to it, looking down at him with a confident, but playful smile. He’d done this before, for others, and probably pretty often, based on how good he was at all this. He knew what he had, what he looked like, how badly wanted he was. It showed in the way he hooked his thumbs in his waistband and eased his sexy trunks down, revealing the thick fan of auburn fur curling down and spreading out across his pubic mound. Not hurried or furtive or urgent – proud, confident, doing himself justice, consciously giving Preston what he wanted to see so bad. A gift, from one man to another.

Keene’s cock was everything Preston had thought it would be, and even more besides. He’d never seen it hard, not like this, and it was truly a thing of beauty. Well over seven inches, to his eye, a lot closer to eight, and thick in a way that made his hole tingle particularly intensely. It was a seriously handsome cock, pornworthy even, and even though he sported a very decent piece of his own, Preston felt no shame at all being outgunned by this young man. Freed from his underwear, it stood hard and proud, arcing up toward the ceiling in that insistent way your cock only did when you were in your young prime, and Preston felt a weird mix of jealousy and pride. That, and a deeply hungry heat that made his palms itch, his mouth water, and his cock sing urgently from the cramped confines of his jeans.

He looked up at Keene, who was watching him with that hot smile of his, and the kid just nodded confidently at him, knowing exactly what his coach wanted from him. He always had, and now he knew more about Preston and what the man wanted than anyone else ever had.

“Goddamn,” Preston grunted as Keene’s flesh filled his hand, thick and hard and alive, throbbing insistently, pulsing in his slow, appreciative stroking grasp. The kid was leaking already from all the kissing, and Preston grinned to himself at how in sync the two of them were, loving the soft way Keene grunted when he swirled his thumb through the thick, sticky seepage of precum and rubbed it into the spongy-firm flesh of his head. He gave him a firmer, more determined stroke, Keene’s stellar thighs tightening up, flexing harder as he went with the pleasure Preston was giving him, retaking the reins and giving the kid the benefit of his own experience with another man.

“Yeah, Coach, that’s… awww fuck,” Keene gasped when Preston added his tongue to the mix, wide and warm and wet, lapping it slowly up the underside of his head, then all around the tip. The salty, musky flavors of the kid’s cock and his pre hit him hard, rich and complex and savory, making his mouth water even more. It really had been too long, and he wasn’t going to waste any more time. He ran his tongue from the base of Keene’s cock, all the way up the underside to the head, and when he got there, Preston opened wide and took him in.

Keene’s hands cupped the back of his head as Preston worked him over, calling on those old talents to take him down, slow and easy, the two of them getting used to each other like this for the first time. Preston smiled to himself around the thickness of the kid as he worked his way down him, savoring every inch, working his lips down it and lashing it with his tongue. Yeah, it had been a minute, probably since that dude he’d found on Scruff on his last recruiting trip back in late fall, but it was just like riding a bike – a lot of fun, and somehow freeing too.

“Oh my god, dude,” Keene grunted, rubbing his hand and squeezing the bulky muscle of his shoulder as Preston worked him over, getting most of the way down, then sliding back up, getting his thick, pulsing young cock good and wet for the ride. He grunted to himself and heard Keene gasp at the sensation of it vibing through his cock, and then again as he found the right rhythm on his piece, a smooth, wet slide up and down his ample length, getting deeper and deeper on him with each suck-stroke, opening himself up to Keene’s sheer bigness.

Big as Keene was, there was a little bit of work to this, but it was good work, work he liked, work he was good at, and that came with its own sense of accomplishment, especially once he finally felt the tickle of Keene’s pubes grazing his nose and lips, finding the base of the stud kid’s big young dick, flirting hard with his gag reflex, making his eyes water a little bit. He looked up, and found Keene’s blue-eyed gaze locked on his, cool and hot and hungry all at once.

“Fuck, Coach, nobody’s ever…” Keene said, his voice husky and tight, and Preston just rumbled in reply, making Keene bite his lip again as his eyes rolled up a little at the feeling of it. He let Keene’s length pulsate against his lips and tongue for a minute, then came up off him in one long, wet slide.

“Oh yeah?” he said, his voice thick with spit and hunger as he took his cock in hand again, giving it a firm, slow stroke, making all kinds of hot, wet noises. “Cock like you got, that’s a damn shame, stud.”

Keene gave him one of those big, pleased smiles, and offered no resistance when Preston took hold of his hips and guided him the few steps back to his bed. He sat down hard, handsome thighs splayed, his cock arcing up against his rippling stomach, gleaming with a thick coating of Preston’s spit, looking even handsomer now. Preston stood up and tugged his belt open, and Keene leaned forward with eager eyes and hands to take over.

“Let me, Coach,” he said, looking up at him in a way that was both seductive and a little worshipful too. “Been thinking about it a long time now.”

Goddamn, that made the tingle inside him turn into a deep, hot rush. All these years working together, this thing inside them both the whole time, quiet and deep and strong. But he was glad they’d waited, too. Anything else would have been irresponsible, even dangerous. But now with everything out there in the world the way it was, it felt like perfect timing.

“Now or never,” he muttered aloud, and Keene shot him a hot look and a big smile.

“Just what I’ve been thinking, Coach,” he said, and yanked the buttons of Preston’s strained jeans open with a fast, sharp pull.

“Fuck yeah,” Keene muttered to himself, hands stroking over Preston’s solid hips, pushing his jeans down his thick, hairy thighs, coming back up to play with his cock-packed boxer briefs. Preston wriggled the rest of his way out of his jeans, kicking them off, while Keene tugged on his shorts with an eager hunger that was surprising and exciting, trying to let him loose. Preston stepped up between Keene’s thighs, giving him an easier reach, then tilted the handsome kid’s face up and kissed him, deep and hungry, his tongue heavy with spit and the taste of Keene’s cock. Keene grunted into his mouth and kissed him back just as lustily, as his hands got Preston’s underwear down and set him free.

“Yeah, nice,” Keene growled in a surprisingly lusty, manly way Preston had never heard from him before, as he wrapped his hand around Preston’s hardon. He’d never felt so thick before, so big, and looking down at his piece in Keene’s grasp was a total fucking head-trip. He wasn’t as big as his favorite wrestler, but he was still plenty of man down there, the solid heft of his cock a match for the rest of his powerful frame. Keene gave him a skilled, appreciative series of strokes as he leaned up to kiss him some more, Preston growling his approval into his mouth as the kid worked him over, and did it right.

It was his turn to moan when the kid bent over athletically and wrapped his lips around the head of it, lashing his leaking thickness with his tongue as his lips encased the crown and worked their way down. He gazed down at the powerful, defined muscles of Keene’s back, and ran his hands over them the way he’d always wanted to, feeling the ripple and shift of them under his creamy young skin. Such a fine piece of young manly power, all over, it made his mouth water just to touch him, while the kid’s talented lips and tongue made his cock hum and throb and leak even more.

This was all so good, so right, a hundred times better than he’d imagined in his head, naked in this very bed, stroking the cock his star wrestler was sucking so well right now. Fuck. Keene was real good at this, and he couldn’t help but be jealous of whatever other guys he’d honed his skills on. There was something to be said for natural talent, but you really needed practice to take it to the next level – it applied just as well to sex as it did to wrestling. But whoever else had been lucky enough to get naked and get with Keene like this didn’t really matter, in the end – right now, it was him who was the lucky guy, and there was more he wanted to know about Keene’s skills. More he needed from this handsome, big-dicked young man who’d been haunting his imagination for the better part of four years, and was about to move on with his life, and out of Preston’s.

Now or never, he thought again, and took his hands and eased Keene’s talented, hard-working mouth slowly up and off his cock.

“You’re fucking good at this, bud,” he growled, tilting Keene’s handsome face back to look him in the eye. Those pillowy lips were even redder now, glazed with spit and impossible to resist, so he didn’t, leaning in for another hungry, sloppy, lusty kiss that Keene eagerly returned. He could taste himself on Keene’s lips and tongue and in his thick spit, and growled lustily as they half-devoured each other’s mouths. They went at it for a couple minutes before he leaned back again. “What else are you good at?”

Keene grinned at him lustily, and fuck but he loved seeing this side of the big young stud.

“What else do you want me to show you, Coach?” he said, voice thick and deep and rich with a grown man’s sexuality. As he did, he ran one hand up Preston’s thick, hairy thigh, up to the chunky swell of his ass, and squeezed. Like he could read Preston’s mind. “I can do a lot of things. You got something in particular in mind?”

Preston looked deep into his eyes, and saw no challenge there, no judgment, just readiness. Awaiting his coach’s go-ahead to show what he could do. Preston had spent a lot of time over the years thinking about how much he liked getting fucked, feeling another man’s cock inside of him. Spent a lot of time ashamed of himself for it. He guessed a lot of guys like him did. But he was getting too old for that now, too old to let the stupid parts of his head get in the way of what he wanted. Nothing else out there in the world seemed certain anymore, all of a sudden. But in here, right now, what he did know for certain was how much he wanted to get fucked. And most of all, how much he wanted Keene inside of him.

He stepped over to his bedside table and took the lube from the drawer. Considered the condoms sitting next to it, and set them on the table just in case. He could feel Keene’s eyes on  him, clocking every move silently. When he turned back, Keene was leaning back on his hands, triceps bulging, all those hard-working, perfectly shaped muscles of his torso and thighs on display. The wrestler was watching him, waiting, ready for the next move. Preston’s gaze went right back to that big fucking cock, curving up in the air like a piece of finely carved ivory, and he knew for certain what it would be.

Preston hunkered down between Keene’s thighs, sliding his hands up the insides of them – clocking the little shiver that went through the young man as he did – and spread them wide. Keene grinned at him and leaned back a little more, his cock becoming the focal point now, licking his ripe lips a little in anticipation as his coach took him by the hips, pulled his ass towards the edge of the bed, then grabbed hold of his fine young cock.

“You like to fuck, Keene?” he said, putting some of the coach’s steel into his voice, a little bit of a challenge for the young man to rise to. Keene’s eyes flared, and he grinned a little, nodding, his cock pulsing in Preston’s hand as the man lazily stroked its handsome length.

“Yessir,” Keene said, polite but firm, that Carolina twang coming out a little more in his voice again. “What about you, Coach? Do you like to fuck?”

His gaze was knowing, firm and direct, but there was a warmth to it too, and again Preston reflected that the world could be Keene’s for the taking, if he wanted it.

“Or… do you like to get fucked, Coach?”

Preston found himself grinning at him, giving his cock a firmer, deeper stroke, already imagining how it would feel inside him. Real fucking good, he bet.

“What are your instincts telling you, Keene?” he said, and Keene grinned at him a little more, rising to the challenge without hesitation, like he knew he would.

“They’re telling me that it’d be real good to fuck you, Coach,” he said, that manly, sexy depth to his voice again, matching his gaze. “And I’d really like to fuck you. I’ve wanted to for a long time.”

“That right, bud?” Preston said, and then leaned in close to Keene’s towering cock, directing his breath over the moist head of it, watching Keen’s uncontrollable little full-body shiver. “Well then, I think it’s about time you showed me what you can do, don’t you?”

He didn’t wait for a reply, just took Keene’s cock in his paw and fed himself with it, one long, slow, wet-mouthed slide down the full length, until it was nudging the back of his throat, challenging and then pushing past his gag reflex. He kept his eyes locked on Keene’s the whole time, and when he reached the base, slid his hand up the spectacular terrain of the kid’s body and tweaked his stiff tit, just to add a little extra.

“Jesus fuck, Coach,” Keene grunted tightly, letting out a loud, deep-chested moan when Preston swallowed around the head of him. He’d need a little more time and practice with a cock this big to truly deep-throat him, like he could with some other guys, but for now, Preston thought he’d done pretty damn well by the kid. Gave Keene something else to think about, and maybe ask for later, too. If they were gonna do this, might as well make the most of it.

He came up off Keene, sucking in a nice deep lungful of air that made his chest swell, and he liked the appreciative way Keene watched the motion of it. He swiped the spit off his lips and reached for the lube, only for Keene to reach over and put a hand on his forearm.

“Let me get you ready, Coach,” he said, and the mix of his polite on-the-mat manner with the shine of his lips and the hardness of his cock made Preston’s insides hum. He nodded, and Keene was on him, quick and fluid, his lithe body wrapping around Preston’s bigger frame with deft lightness. God, he loved that feeling, strength and warmth and flesh against his, as Keene moved his body smoothly onto the bed. He outweighed the kid by a good 30 pounds, but it didn’t even seem to matter. But then, he really wanted this, too. He wasn’t going to put up any kind of a fight.

Keene got him sprawled out across the bed and moved easily down his body, his strong hands and taut muscles and big, hard dick grazing all down his skin, making it prickle deliciously.

“Nice,” he heard him mutter, almost to himself, as those hands found and squeezed Preston’s glutes. Keene’s long fingers sank into the meat of them, testing the plush, dark-furred flesh, and Preston couldn’t help but tense the muscles up nice and tight.

“Fuck,” Keene growled, quiet and hungry, and Preston grinned over his shoulder at him. Damn, he was glad he’d had that third beer, because this was turning out to be a fuckin’ fine time indeed, and it felt great to just give into it and go with the flow like this.

Keene met his gaze and grinned back, his barely restrained enthusiasm shining through.

“It’s all yours, big guy,” Preston said to him, just like Keene did earlier, and he got to see the kid peel another layer away for him, showing him just how hungry and excited he was. Then he moaned as Keene spread his thick globes wide, and dove right in.

There was nothing but husky growls and grunts and curses after that for a little while, that and the lewd, hungry sounds of a man eating ass. He fucking loved it, had missed it, his whole body responding, writhing against the comforter beneath him, rolling his hips and trying to fuck the mattress. He already knew Keene’s tongue pretty well – it was as strong and agile and talented as the rest of him. It was confident in what it was doing, working him over thoroughly, taking skilful control of his ass and making him submit. He ate ass like he wrestled, and Preston had to stifle a sudden laugh at that, and how great it’d look under Keene’s name in the yearbook.

“Fuck yeah man, get in there,” he growled lustily, which was pretty redundant, because Keene was sure doing it, and had been pretty much from the start. But he couldn’t help it – he had years of experience working with young men, and he knew how well they responded to praise and encouragement. Made them want to do even better, and as confident and talented as Keene was, he knew he’d still want to try.

“God you got a great ass, Coach,” Keene grunted thickly after several more minutes of exploring his ring and then his insides, squeezing the flesh of it some more. Preston was pretty sure he wanted to smack it, but was too deferential to do it. God knows Preston wanted to do it to his, but he’d never been the ass-smacking type of coach. Never let himself be, anyway. A little too close to home for him.

Anyway, he was pleased at the compliment, so he guessed that praise and encouragement thing went both ways. He wasn’t lean and defined like Keene, never had been, but he’d always been proud of his body, like most wrestlers were, whether they admitted it or not. He knew he had a nice ass, and it was always hot as hell to have another guy compliment him on it.

“Shoulda seen it in a singlet, back in the day,” he said with a smartass grin over his shoulder.

“I did,” Keene said with a wicked little smile of his own. “God bless the internet, right?”

Preston laughed deep at that, which melted into a lusty moan as Keene leaned back in and licked him up and down some more. His hole felt alive, almost throbbing with pleasure after all the focused attention Keene and his eager, agile tongue had paid it, and now he could feel Keene laying down a nice coat of spit over it with long, wide licks, which just made it hum even more.

“The hell you learn how to eat ass like that, Keene?” he grunted when the kid came back up again, sliding his body back up the length of Preston’s, draping himself over him with fluid, athletic ease, his breath hot and musky on Preston’s neck and ears.

“First time I found out about it, I knew I wanted to do it,” Keene said, as Preston felt the hot, sticky press of his big young cock against his thoroughly manhandled ass. His back arched a little more, good old instincts kicking in. “And ever since then, I guess I’ve just been working on getting better at it.” 

“Well mission accomplished, bud,” Preston said, smiling at the notion of a younger Keene hearing about eating ass, and setting himself on a course to master it with his typical quiet determination. Keene leaned in over him, real close, and Preston could taste himself on his lips and tongue as they engaged his, nice and slow. 

“Show you what else I’ve been working on too, if you like, Coach,” Keene said a couple good, long, deep minutes later, and Preston just nodded. Keene lifted up off him and reached for the lube, and this time it was Preston’s turn to stop him.

“Uh-uh,” he said, gently bucking the kid up off of him and rolling over. “My turn now, bud.”

Keene sat back on his heels and draped an arm around Preston’s neck, easy and intimate, smiling as he watched his coach work a heavy layer of lube all over his big, thick young cock. Preston knew just how to play it, another of those old reliable instincts kicking in just fine, how to give the big-dicked kid a good time with it, but not too much time. He was very sure Keene could go another round if he accidentally triggered him off, but fuck it – he wanted this load, this first load, inside him. If this first time was gonna be their last time, he wanted to make it really count.

“How do you want me?” Keene asked, all deferential and quietly eager again.

Christ, what a question. In so many ways, if you only knew, kid, he thought with a little twinge, mixed in with the excitement he was trying to keep under control.

“On your back,” Preston said, pleased at the way Keene automatically did as he asked, arranging himself quickly and smoothly, his cock standing up big and hard and shining with the generous layer of Swiss Navy. “Been a minute since I’ve been with a guy big as you. Let me get used to you first.”

Keene grinned at the compliment and nodded eagerly, his eyes tracking every move as Preston slid one big leg over to straddle him. His hands followed his eyes, sliding up and down the big bulging length of Preston’s quads, stroking over the hard muscle and the warm skin and the thick, dark fur that sprung all over them. Preston leaned over to the bedside table and snagged the strand of rubbers.

“Yes, or no?” he asked simply, and he could see Keene working through it. They were all taught how important safe sex was, and Preston himself stressed it whenever they had regular health briefings with the guys. But hell, he hadn’t gotten laid in almost six months; he was practically celibate in this quiet little town. It wasn’t any kind of excuse, and neither was the fact that everything else in the world felt so suddenly dangerous and unpredictable. But he knew deep down that if he only got this one shot with Keene, he wanted to feel as much of it as he could, so he could keep coming back to it in the years ahead, if all this passed and he got the chance to.

“I’m tested,” Keene said. “All clear, and I’m responsible, always. So I’m OK with no, if you are.”

Preston knew Keene was speaking the truth – he wouldn’t have expected any less of him. They’d been working together almost four years now, closely, and that brought a special kind of trust between two men. 

“And as crazy as this last semester’s been, I haven’t had time to get really laid anyways,” Keene grinned.

“That’s a damn shame,” Preston said, reaching down to give the kid’s strong, handsome pecs a squeeze and brushing his ass back against his big dick. “Let’s fix that, then.”

Preston reached behind him with one hand to take hold of Keene’s hard, throbbing slickness, and looked at the condoms in his other hand. “I don’t know if these’d even fit you anyhow,” he said, and tossed them back onto the bedside table.

“Shut up, man,” Keene said good-naturedly, smacking the meat of his thigh. “C’mon, let’s do this.”

He was right to have been cautious, because Keene felt about twice as big against him, out of his line of sight, slick and thick and hard as marble in his hand as he lined him up against his hole. All the spit Keene had fed into him helped some, and the thick layer of lube he’d laid down over it himself helped even more, but still, the kid had a fucking unit on him, and it was real slow going getting it inside of him. He thought back to the first few times he’d bottomed, how uncomfortable it had been, but remembered too just how damn good it felt once that part was out of the way. How right another man’s cock could feel inside of him. Thought back to all those years as a young wrestler, his coaches preaching about toughing it out, pushing through the wall, getting past the discomfort to win glory. How he’d turned that wisdom right back around the young men in his charge.

Walk the talk, and take the cock, he thought, smirking a little, and the distraction helped take his mind off the intense pressure and low-key discomfort of getting Keene past the ring and inside of him.

Keene wasn’t just laying back and looking pretty. He’d been showing Preston all evening how skilled and active a lover he was, and he was nothing if not consistent. His hands stroked the big bunched muscles of Preston’s thighs, both soothing and appreciating him, and worked their way up and over whatever other parts of the man he could reach. The touch helped, and so did the warm, happy look of connection and pleasure in the kid’s eyes.

“Can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” Keene murmured, and Preston was beyond excited to hear how in sync the two of them were. Keene pushed himself halfway upright, leaning in as close as he could, those sexy smiling lips of his parting again, and Preston welcomed the further distraction. He cupped the back of the kid’s handsome head and kissed him, letting it be slow this time, a long, deep dance of lips and tongues, the sounds smacking soft and wet in the air around them. And right as they got real deep into it, he felt the intense pressure around his hole give, and then the surprise of Keene’s big cockhead slipping past the ring of muscle, and inside of him.

“Aw fuckin’ godddddddd, Coach,” Keene hissed.

“Fuck yeah, big guy,” Preston moaned back, and they kissed again, a little hungrier now, as he pushed himself further down his favorite wrestler’s cock. He was all-in now, giving it all up to Keene, thick and solid and sliding deep inside of him as he filled himself with him.

It took a minute to get used to him, to get used to doing this again, but just like sucking cock, the old ways came back to him easily. Yeah, it was still a little uncomfortable, but he’d been here often enough to know it would get better. A whole lot better, and he was eager to get to that point, where the pressure and stretch and discomfort came together and became something new, something deeper, the thing he’d been chasing most of his grown life. Soon enough, Preston found it again, and he let out a long, happy moan, smiling as his eyes drifted closed. Keene’s hands were still touching him, squeezing and stroking the outsides of his flesh, savoring him, while his big dick did its work on his insides.

When Preston opened his eyes, ready to ride for real now, he had to grunt at the sight of Keene, sprawling back beneath him on his bed – and christ, how many nights had he pictured that in his head? – hands flung back either side of his head, letting the big man find his way on him. All of a sudden, Preston thought he finally got art, looking at the composition of Keene’s finely honed, smooth-skinned, muscle-packed young frame. The wrestler’s face was even more handsome now, shifting in pleasure, focused and unfocused in turn as Preston worked himself slowly up and down his cocklength. Preston found his rhythm on him, feeling that hot, electric ripple through him every time Keene’s long, thick, hard flesh stroked across his prostate, wanting to chase that feeling like some kind of junkie. 

His eyes focused in on Keene’s, the two of them finding the intensity of it together, nodding at each other in silent communication as Keene did his best to hold him, using the incredible coiled power of his core to push the bigger man up a little, making some space so he could do his part and fuck up into him. Now it was the two of them fucking together, finding a fluid, easy, physical rhythm, and Preston hazily thought he’d finally reaped the benefits of all that training he’d put the kid through. All his own years learning his way around another man, how to move against him, and how to move with him.

He rode Keene that way for a while, the two of them barely saying a word, just grunting and moaning and nodding over the sounds of their bodies against each other, hips meeting thighs, hands stroking over skin and hair. Preston’s hardon had come back strong, and he relished the familiar pleasure of it in his hand, all thick and sticky-wet with precum now he’d found the zone, coupled with the intensifying pleasure Keene’s cock was giving him inside. He tried not to stroke it too much, just held it, squeezed it, not wanting to get too far over the line and end this ride too soon.

Keene must have been a mind-reader, because he reached for Preston’s cock-squeezing hand and gently, but decisively moved it away. He replaced it with his own, giving his coach a hazy, pleasure-deep grin and then a slow, appreciative series of strokes, taking the full measure of the man who’d worked so closely with him these last few years. 

“You feel so good, Coach,” he murmured, clutching Preston’s big, bunching thigh tight with one hand, his cock with the other, as he thrust up to meet his tight, hungry hole. “You feelin’ good?”

“Fuck yeah I’m feelin’ good, bud,” Preston growled, and he didn’t think he’d stopped smiling at all since he’d found the zone.

“Can I show you some more?” Keene said, and at first Preston thought how much more of you could there be, kid? But he got the picture when Keene tapped his hip and nudged him up a little more, and then the kid curled up to meet him. 

Keene took hold of his trunk securely and moved him again, moving up close with him, that easy, liquid, powerful athleticism he’d always had in full effect, rolling the bigger man over smoothly, not even losing his place inside of him. Well, except for a handful of inches, but he had much more than a handful to give anyway, more like two. He soon gave them all back to Preston, once he had the big guy on his back, looking confident and in control, focused as he wrapped his arm tighter round Preston’s core, used the other one to plant himself securely, then slid all the way back inside his coach, smooth and powerful and intent.

“Fuckin’ yessssss,” Preston moaned, unable to stop himself, his big strong legs scissoring around Keene’s tight waist and squeezing, spurring the young athlete on as he gave the man literally everything he had. His fantastic cock touched Preston’s insides in different ways now, hitting the same places but at a different angle, stroking long and deep and confident up into him.

Now it was Preston’s turn to lay back and enjoy, let the kid show him his prowess. By now, Keene had nothing at all to prove to him, not on the mat and not in bed, either. This was for them, just the two of them. They knew who each other was now, knew what they wanted and what they could give each other. Preston took the opportunity to stroke over Keene’s powerfully muscled arms and shoulders, down his back as far as he could reach, touching him in all the ways he’d always wanted to, but never could before. He knew Keene could work that spectacular body, especially those trim, athletic hips. He’d had to watch it at work a lot over the last few years, trying to keep his eye dispassionate, professional, analytical. Now he could enjoy it for what it was, an instrument of pleasure as well as power, skill and finesse that ran deep.

Keene seemed to relish his attention, and he repaid the compliment with his technique. He fucked his coach long and strong, hitting him deep and precise, then slowed the cadence of his talented hips and worked his girth inside the man, letting him feel all of the inches Keene had to give him. Guys who could fuck like him at his age were rare, and Preston sure hadn’t been fucked by any of his peers like this back when he was in college. Keene fucked him down like he was trying to make up for all that, giving his coach the fucking the man deserved, and the fucking he deserved himself, too.

He shifted into a slow corkscrewing grind, interspersed with thick, slow-plunging thrusts, using the opportunity to wrap Preston up tight and close, their eyes hot and shining and locked on each other as they leaned in close, the silent connection between them spurring the lusty, probing kiss that followed. Keene matched his pace to the tempo of the kiss, Preston clutching him tighter in his powerful arms and thighs, holding him close and deep, wishing he’d never have to let him go.

“So damn good, Coach,” Keene half-whispered between wet, devouring kisses. “So glad we’re doing this.”

“Yeah, me too, buddy, me too,” Preston murmured back. “You’re a fucking stud, Keene.”

“Fuck yeah,” Keene grunted. “Love showing you. Making you feel good.”

“Yeah you are,” Preston growled back. “Real damn good, bud. So damn fine…”

Keene kissed him with hungry heat, his hips pumping faster, his cock driving deeper. 

“Make you cum, Coach?” he rasped, and the fresh sweat made his handsome face practically glow. 

“Yeah man, yeah you’re gonna make me cum,” Preston moaned, and saying it was like willing it into existence. He could feel the pleasure inside him sharpening, peaking, and knew it was just a matter of time now. Not very much time, either.

“Good, ‘cuz I’m gonna cum,” Keene said, pushing himself up on arms bulging real big with prime muscles. His voice was tight, his face starting to get that real intent, focused, pleasure-spaced look Preston loved seeing on a man’s face. It just added to the fire inside of him.

“Yeah you are,” Preston growled, spurring him on, familiar with all Keene’s levers from all these years, and pulling on them. “Gonna cum in me, buddy. Cum in your Coach.”

“Aw fuck, Coach!” Keene moaned, tight and urgent, his brows bunching together, wrinkles of pleasure in his smooth young forehead. His fucking pace escalated, hips slapping the thick meat of Preston’s powerful thighs and ass with a rhythmic, urgent thwap-thwap-thwap, the headboard starting to rap against the wall behind them. “Gonna fuckin’... ah damn, here I… fuck… here I fuckin’ cum!”

All the muscles Preston could see on him – and there were a lot, goddamn – tensed up hard, all defined and tight and powerful, bulging out all over as he gave Preston an almost disbelieving look, powering up inside of him of him with a short, sharp series of deep thrusts that made Preston’s toes curl even harder than they already were. He gripped the powerful bulge of the kid’s upper arms and just nodded at him, and Keene let out a low, rolling moan that echoed loud around the room, and gave Preston what he’d wanted almost since the day he’d first met him.

Keene looked absolutely glorious as he sat back on his heels, his torso towering above Preston’s prone form, all those beautifully honed, hard-working muscles standing in stark relief, clad in glowing, flushed skin. His cock was still hard inside Preston, and the man squeezed around him without even thinking about it, making Keene gasp and shiver a little, and throb him right back. Preston reached automatically for his own cock, standing hard and thick and ready to blow, but he’d no sooner given it a tight, quick stroke when Keene knocked his hand away again and replaced it with his own.

“Let me, Coach,” he said with a hungry smile, locking eyes with Preston as he took over. He leaned in a little and shot a thick stream of spit down onto the hard flesh in his hand, and Preston growled at the action and the sensation. He tucked one hand up behind his head and used the other to squeeze Keene’s bulging thigh, and let the hot kid work him.

“Goddamn you look good,” Keene said, his free hand traveling the thick, furred terrain of Preston’s beefy pecs and his solid stomach as his other worked the man’s cock. It was like they were following the same instinct, trying to savor as much of each other as they could, while they could. Nothing was sure beyond this, nothing but the two of them, in bed together, with each other, right now. 

But it couldn’t last long, not with Keene’s big young cock still hard inside of him, with his skilled hand working Preston’s dick all fast and spit-wet and enthusiastic, not with the hot vibe still heavy in the air between them, along with the deep, masculine sounds and scents of their sex. Preston’s hand gripped Keene’s thigh tighter, feeling the surge deep in his loins, the electricity running up his inner thighs, from his hole and his balls and the big, stiff nips Keene was stroking and tweaking.

“You gonna cum for me, Coach?” Keene said, and the look in his eyes, like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted, coupled with the simple intensity of what he was saying were all Preston needed. He felt his muscles tensing, his breaths growing shorter and shallower, his balls and inner thighs and hole all tightening together, and nodded.

“Yeah… fuck… I’m gonna cum,” he gasped. “You’re gonna make me cum, buddy.”

“Fuck yeah,” Keene growled, smiling excitedly, jacking him harder and faster and giving Preston’s right nip an intent tweaking rub, and at last he was cumming, choking out a deep-chested, guttural growl as his cock flexed in Keene’s slick grip, their eyes locking hard as the first shot blasted out from his gaping slit. More followed swiftly, thick hot creamy jets of pent-up cum spurting across his tensing, heaving core, up into the deep cleft between his beefy pecs, hitting the underside of his chin as Keene grunted wordlessly at the sight and milked it all out of him, still hard as ever inside of him as Preston’s hole pulsed around his cock with each thick shot.

“Jesus fuck,” Preston gasped as Keene worked his load out of him, well over a half-dozen potent spurts that hung in the hair on his face, chest and belly. Keene just kept grinning at him, his face a mix of the pleased pride he showed when he did well on the mat, and something altogether deeper and manlier and more intimate, too. God, whoever got to enjoy him from here on was going to be very lucky indeed, Preston thought, and even in the hot afterglow of probably the best orgasm he’d had in the last year, maybe longer, the thought still set off a sharp twinge deep inside him. 

When Keene finally slid that big, spent cock of his from his ass, thick and rubbery and gleaming with his load, the two of them slowly untangled, and then Preston walked gingerly to the bathroom to get something to clean them up with. Fuck, he felt thoroughly railed, but under the slight discomfort of it was the deep satisfaction of being really well fucked. He hadn’t had enough of it lately, and if and when things in the world outside settled down, he intended to go looking for it more often.

“Jesus, feels like you shot all your loads in me,” Preston said after wiping himself as clean as he could in the bathroom, handing Keene a damp washcloth of his own. The kid was charmingly unselfconscious about cleaning off his cock and the stray traces of Preston’s cum from his chest and stomach.

“I’m a pretty big shooter,” he said, casually modest, and Preston had to laugh.

“It figures,” Preston said, trying not to look surprised when Keene inched across the bed to slip an arm around him, and then press a slow, almost tender kiss to his lips. The two of them kissed like that for a few long, sweet minutes, deep and slow and almost soft, and it was enough to make Preston’s cock think about standing up all over again. He was pretty sure he could feel Keene firming up again too.

“I’m really glad we did that, Coach,” Keene said, and dammit if Preston didn’t already feel the regret setting in, especially when the kid called him that. He’d gone so long sticking strictly to the rules, working hard to walk the right side of that line. Was it all really worth it, upending his ethics and playing fire with his career, just for a couple of sweet hours like they’d had together?

“I am too, buddy,” he said quietly, and even as he said it, he knew it was right. “Thank you.”

Keene smiled at him and kissed him again, deep and appreciative.

“Any time, Coach,” he said when they parted, and Preston couldn’t help but laugh darkly.

“Not much of that left, bud,” he said, stroking the young man’s finely honed flank, savoring every last touch he could get of him like this before Keene went on his way and exited his life for good. The two of them heading their separate ways into a weird new world, these strange uncertain times they were all about to be living.

“Still some, though,” Keene said, wrapping both arms round him and snuggling into him in a way Preston would never have expected, but liked very much. Been too long for too many things, he thought to himself. “I got a few days yet, and after that… who knows?”

Who knows indeed, Preston thought, but smiled too, feeling the tingle of excitement at the possibilities Keene might be suggesting. He shifted around a little so the two of them could embrace a little tighter and closer, loving the easy, happy way Keene smiled at that.

“And besides,” Keene said, stroking the still slightly sticky expanse of Preston’s solid core. “I’ve always had ideas about one of my coaches fucking me, too…”

“Yeah, bud?” Preston said, feeling a hot mix of surprise and eagerness swell inside him, and start to swell his spent cock a little more, too.

“Yeah, Coach,” Keene grinned. “But we can talk about that later. For right now, I like this just fine.”

“Me too, buddy, me too,” Preston nodded, and they kissed, slow and definitely soft this time, lingering, in no rush to take it anywhere after the hot rush of everything they’d already done. Preston held the hot young man in his arms, and Keene held him right back. Sometimes you just had to take these moments when they came and hold onto them while you could, and remember that things would get better again. For everything else that was uncertain in the rest of the world outside, all the weirdness still to come, right here, right now, everything was just as it was meant to be, and at last, Coach Preston felt himself finally start to relax.

The End

[lemonpeter]

STARKER, by Peter B. Parker

Chapter 8: Bondage

That’s only the tumblr title so it shows up in tags, the real one is on ao3 I believe

A/N: how do these chapters always end up so long? we don’t really know. peter’s going through it, yall. we’re officially halfway through this story, and we can’t wait to get the rest of it up for you to read. big things are happening!! - bloo and bri <3 💕

(also- you may have noticed, but for every chapter, the title is in reference to the au or trope it features. we aren’t just lazy and unoriginal lol...there’s a method to the madness)

Warnings: privacy invasion (Peter dealing with the fallout of the previous chapter), very nff, d*m/s*b relationship

Masterlist ao3

————

With shaking hands, Peter slid the glasses from his face. He closed his fist around them as he tried in vain to steady his breathing. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. What the fuck was he supposed to do?

Once again, it felt like the world had shifted on its axis and everything was closing in on him.

What the fuck was that? How had SHIELD infiltrated EDITH’s programming in order to allow May into his illusions? How long had she been real? If she’d been the May he’d conjured every time...

That would explain why his spidey sense had reacted so strongly that first time, when he introduced his family to Tony. He had known that something was wrong, but hadn’t been able to discern what. Because he was looking for a threat in his environment, not a digital one.

Hindsight was always fucking 20/20.

May’s presence in the illusions aside, the fact still making his skin crawl, how long had SHIELD been watching him? What had they seen? Were they always watching?

The thought made Peter feel sick to his stomach. They all knew what he was doing, they saw him with Tony. That meant that they...they *knew how he felt about* Tony. Fuck, they’d seen them having sex, something that was not meant for anyone else to even know about, much less witness. If they’d been watching at all, they had to have seen it, there was no way they hadn’t.

Tears began to sting in the teen’s eyes, and he swallowed thickly around the bile that was making its way up his throat. He felt...dirty. Violated.

Betrayed.

This was supposed to be just for him, just for him and Tony. But instead, a bunch of people he didn’t even know were watching his deepest fantasies play out with an illusion of a man who was thirty-odd years older than him. Not to mention the fact that said man had been…gone for nearly a year.

...That meant that even May had seen.

The reality of that fact made his stomach flip, shame and disgust burning in his veins.

Not only had his aunt seen him cuddled up to Tony, watched as he married the man, not holding anything back... She’d probably seen him in every vulnerable moment, any time they’d slept together, even the less explicit intimate interactions the two of them had shared. Just like the people at SHIELD had.

He wrapped one arm around his torso in a weak attempt to comfort himself and soothe his churning stomach. He hadn’t eaten anything in a few hours, but the meager food he’d had was threatening to make a reappearance. The more he thought about the reality of the situation, the more it sunk in, the worse he felt.

Guilt piled on top of shame, disgust was added onto betrayal, violation was added to the entire mix. And it all made him want to crawl out of his own skin and be sick.

He wanted to disappear.

The only consolation he had was that they wouldn’t be able to get in again. There was no way for them to influence him or have any sort of impact on the illusions. He couldn’t control anything else they might do, but EDITH had guaranteed that the new 24/7 monitoring and firewall improvement would ensure that they wouldn’t be able to get back in and mess everything up.

He couldn’t believe May had done something like that. Well. He could, but he didn’t want to. He knew that she wanted him to go back to New York, back to her and Happy, but it hadn’t crossed his mind that she’d actually get involved enough to try to intervene.

He’d thought that maybe she of all people would understand why he was doing it. She had lost so much herself. Maybe she would get it and let him be. Since he was finally truly happy, for the first time in a very long while.

But apparently not. She’d somehow come in without permission, lied to him in order to get him to trust her and then proceeded to try to take him away from the one thing, the one place, the one person that made him feel safe. She obviously didn’t give a fuck about Peter’s actual happiness and well-being. She was just being selfish, not thinking about what he actually wanted but rather what she wanted for him.

He still missed her, though. What she did... really hurt him. He wasn’t going to get over it anytime soon. But he still loved her. He knew that in reality, she was the only living family that he had left. He wished that she could have just understood, could have accepted the choices that he’d made and would continue to make. Maybe they could have even coexisted, in the new world he was creating for them. He could have had his family back, all of them, together and whole, just the way it should have been.

He was doing everything in his power… How was everything still falling apart? The whole point of leaving, of coming to the compound, of not communicating with anyone, was so that he could get away. So that he could have some peace.

And he’d found some, or at least he thought he had.

But his happiness was once again being stolen from him.

He was so tired of having to deal with the utter crock of bullshit that was his life. Fucking Parker luck.

He didn’t want to be in charge anymore.

Maybe he didn’t have to be.

(In the back of his mind, he thought briefly again of the fact that everything he did had spectators, whether he liked it or not. Despite feeling massively uncomfortable, he knew there was nothing he could really do about it, not without having to rewrite part of the program. And there was no way he was going to do that. There was always a small chance that he would lose any existing data. He couldn’t risk losing what he had built with Tony.

If they were going to watch, then…..well, he was going to put on a show.)

***

Peter had decided that he was going to bring his idea up to Tony. Even after thinking about it for a while, he wasn’t sure how to go about it. What was he supposed to say? “Hey Tony, I want you to be my dom?”

If he was being completely honest, that probably would have worked. (In fact, he knew it would have.)

But Peter couldn’t make himself just come out with the words like that. It wasn’t him. That wasn’t how he did things.

So instead, when it was time for Tony to come home from work, and he had gotten himself ready, put on some of the lingerie he’d bought during the honeymoon, Peter positioned himself on the floor in front of the elevator, kneeling on a pillow he’d taken from the couch.

He was only there for a minute or two when the doors opened and out walked his husband, making his heart beat wildly in his chest.

“Peter? Baby, what’s going on? What’s wrong? Why are you in the floor?” He paused, taking in the fact that Peter’s body was clad in only a lace bralette and matching panties, the aegean blue material popping enticingly against his skin. The man blinked, letting his eyes roam over the man’s submissive form before they snapped up to meet his husband’s. “Pete?”

For a moment Peter just sat there, searching Tony’s face. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steel himself for what he was about to do. His gaze met the older man’s once more. “Daddy.”

Eyes flashing, Tony reacted to the title much like Peter had hoped he would, and he recognized the dynamic that the boy was trying to set up. But he still wasn’t sure what was happening. “C’mon, baby, talk to me.”

That was the last thing Peter wanted to do. He shook his head minutely and closed his eyes again, sighing heavily.

Why couldn’t Tony just roll with it? He never had a problem indulging his kinks with no conversation before. They never needed to talk about it. Or so Peter thought. Why was the man insisting that he come out and say it this time?

“If you really want this, I need to hear you say it, Peter.”

“I’m tired,” he said finally, voice soft. “I don’t want to think anymore, I don’t want to think about any of it. I want…” Peter let himself trail off, swallowing. “I want to give control to you, Tony.” He let his eyes meet his husband’s again.

The man watched him for a moment more, face neutral. Whatever he saw must have satisfied him, as his eyes darkened and his stance shifted almost imperceptibly.

But Peter definitely noticed.

Something about the subtle change in his posture made Tony immediately appear more dominant, and Peter felt something deep within himself give. Yes, this was exactly what he wanted. To give himself to Tony, all of himself, until there was nothing left of him that wasn’t Tony’s, too.

A low hum emanated from the taller man’s chest as he crossed his arms, sharp yet caring eyes still trained consideringly on Peter’s kneeling form. “You need Daddy to take care of you, honey? Show you that you don’t have to do everything on your own, that it’s all gonna be okay?”

Peter was nodding before he even realized it. “Please,” he whispered. “Tony, please, yes.”

“Ah-ah,” Tony chided, walking forward a few steps until he was standing right in front of the boy. He reached down, taking Peter’s chin in his hand. His grip was firm, but gentle enough that it didn’t actually hurt. “That’s not my name right now, kid. What do you call me?”

Mouth suddenly dry, Peter swallowed. “Daddy.” The word had the muscles in his lower stomach clenching as he felt that molten heat begin to pool deep inside of him.

Tony smiled down at him as he ran the pad of this thumb over Peter’s bottom lip. “That’s right, baby.”

Peter let his lips part and he pushed his head forward slightly so that the finger entered his mouth. He gently sucked on the digit, enjoying the weight and warmth of it on his tongue.

“Do you trust me, Peter?” Removing his hand, Tony shrugged off his suit jacket, letting it fall to the floor and rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up.

“With my life,” Peter said automatically, still staring up at the man with wide eyes.

“Good.” His hands moved to pull at the knot of his tie, feeling the boy’s gaze burning into his skin. The gold of his wedding band glinted in the light. “Now crawl to the bedroom.”

Tony watched as Peter did just that, adjusting his position so that he was on all fours as he began making his way across the entryway and through the living room. A shiver ran through Peter’s body, and Tony knew that the hardwood floor was cold, especially with practically all of his skin exposed.

But he knew that his baby could take it.

Peter would take whatever Tony wanted to give him.

Staying a few paces behind his lover at all times, Tony’s eyes roved over Peter’s ass, watching the way it moved as he began ascending the stairs. He licked at his bottom lip, already imagining all the ways he was going to take his boy apart, break him down until he was begging for Tony to fill him up, to stuff him full of his cock.

The heat of Tony’s eyes on him had Peter’s blood thrumming in his veins as he reached the top step, turning the corner where he could see their bedroom door a few feet away. He felt...anxious, but in a good way. He didn’t know exactly what the older man had planned for him, but he was being honest when he said he trusted Tony.

(He didn’t say that Tony was probably the only person he trusted at this point.

Once they had both made it into the room, Peter now kneeling down on the floor at the foot of the bed, Tony didn’t let the teen out of his sight even as he pushed the door closed, arm extended out behind him. It shut, the sound nearly deafening in the quiet.

Shifting his weight, Tony opened his mouth, making no moves to get closer to his partner at the moment. “How you doing, baby?” The man tried to keep his voice soft, so as to not startle Peter, but as he had already allowed himself to slip pretty far into his dom headspace, he couldn’t completely get rid of the deep, commanding rasp.

Peter swallowed. “I’m okay,” he said quietly, making eye contact for a second before lowering his gaze to his knees, where his hands were loosely clasped.

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Just okay?” He paused and ran a hand through his hair, resulting in him looking slightly disheveled. It was at odds with the rest of his put-together appearance. “I’m gonna need more than okay, Pete. What are you thinking? Tell me.”

Eyes wide, not able to explain why he felt so compelled to comply, Peter did. “I’m great, Daddy. I’m just...nervous, I guess. I trust you, more than anything, and I want to know what’ s going to happen. Also I just,” he paused, a flush coming to his cheeks. “I love you so much.”

The older man’s eyes softened, and then he did take a step towards Peter. Then another. “I love you too, Peter.” He kept walking until he was standing right in from his husband, staring down at him, the tips of his shoes not even an inch from the bare skin of Peter’s knees. “Your safeword is ‘rhubarb’, okay baby? Repeat it back to me.”

A hint of a smile tugged at Peter’s lips at the word. He took a deep breath to compose himself before peering up at Tony again and speaking. “My safeword is ‘rhubarb’,” he intoned lightly.

“Good boy.” Something ignited in Tony as he witnessed the other’s reaction to the words. “You like that, don’t you, baby?” As if he didn’t know the answer from the barely audible mewl that escaped his lips and the way the ruddy tinge to his cheeks intensified. “Like knowing that Daddy’s pleased, that he’s happy with you?”

Peter nodded softly. “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s all you want, isn’t it baby?” His hands moved to his tie, which was draped over his neck. He pulled it down and held it out in front of him, an end in each hand. “Close your eyes, Peter.”

Obliging after only a moment of hesitation, Peter’s lids fell shut. He sighed at the feeling of the soft, cool silk on the heated skin of his face.

“How does that feel?”

“It’s nice. I like it.” He paused. “There’s no strong smells in here which is nice but I can hear everything. I mean I already could but- This is so much more-”

Tony tutted softly, seeing the way the boy was getting frustrated with himself for rambling a bit, the nervous energy needing some way to escape. “Shhhh, relax baby. You don’t have to think, remember? Turn that little genius brain of yours off for a bit, huh? Let Daddy handle it, I’ll take care of everything, Pete.” He made a point not to touch him, not wanting to overwhelm him any further.

Peter sniffed, his nose twitching. “Okay.” He shifted his posture, rolling his shoulders and leaning to the side a bit to adjust his legs. He focused on the beating of Tony’s heart rather than his own, finding it more reassuring. “Okay,” he repeated, quieter this time, mostly speaking to himself.

Tony let them sit in the quiet for a moment, until he was satisfied that Peter had calmed down. “Good job, baby.” Hands dropping to his waist, Tony began to unfasten his belt. The sound of the metal clink might as well have been a gunshot with the way that Peter jerked. “Easy, kid, it’s just me.” After he pulled the leather through the loops on his pants, he let it drop down to the carpet where it landed with a thud. He undid his button and zipper before pulling his cock out so that he could stroke himself to full hardness.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty, down there on your knees for me,” he groaned. He circled his thumb around the head a few times, spreading the wetness there as he took in the sight before him. “So perfect for Daddy.”

Peter’s nipples had hardened underneath the dark lace and he pressed his thighs together at the sound of Tony’s hand moving over the slick skin of his shaft. Saliva was beginning to pool in his mouth; he could feel the heat of Tony’s erection in front of his face, the deep musk of the man’s scent like a drug to him. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat. “Please,” he whispered.

Now fully hard, Tony grabbed at Peter’s mussed curls with his left hand. He used his right to guide his cock to the boy’s lips, letting the tip rest there before tapping it against them a few times. “Open up, sweetheart.” When Peter did as he was told, Tony let out a deep sigh at the feeling of his mouth suckling on the head.

Peter whined again. His tongue danced around the tip of his husband’s cock and he sucked greedily at the salty fluid there. It was so heady, and he could already feel himself slipping down, bleeding into that space he’d always wondered about. His jaw began to go slack, the rest of his body relaxing in kind.

“There you go, baby,” Tony groaned, starting to cant his hips, pushing himself further into the wet heat of Peter’s mouth. He could tell from the way Peter suddenly went more pliant that he was starting to drop. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

The boy took him readily, even unconsciously reached a hand up in an attempt to find Tony’s hip and pull him closer. He keened in displeasure when Tony gently nudged him away.

“Hey, uh-uh, hands behind your back, kid. No touching.”

Another whine, but the young man once again followed the instruction. He began to bob his head, the lewd sounds of his mouth moving on the slick flesh filling the air.

Tony kept his fingers tangled in Peter’s hair as he cursed under his breath. “*Fuck*, Peter, that’s it baby. So perfect, you suck Daddy’s cock so good.” He started to thrust his hips again, shallowly at first but then getting deeper. When he reached the back of Peter’s throat, the boy’s muscles contracted around him as he gagged, desperately trying to swallow. “Shit, shit,” Tony muttered, eyes slipping shut at the sensation.

When Peter started to tense up, rising on his knees slightly, the man pulled back, leaving him spluttering as he tried to catch his breath. Thick drool was running down his chin as he coughed, and Tony didn’t hesitate before running his dick through it. “Open,” he commanded, scooping some of the liquid up with the pads of his fingers so he could push it back into the boy’s mouth. His cock was quick to follow, immediately going as deep as he could in order to make Peter’s body jerk again. “Swallow.”

Peter did his best, trying not to choke as the muscles in his throat contracted weakly around the intrusion. He tried to focus on breathing through his nose, but he gagged anyway, lurching backwards even though he was unable to get away, tethered by the firm grip of the hand clutching at his head.

Pulling back to let him breath for a moment, the sound of the frantic gasping making him grow impossibly harder, Tony only waited a few seconds before snapping his hips forward again. He fucked gently in and out of Peter’s mouth, praises falling unbidden from his own. “So perfect, Peter, god, you’re perfect. So good for me, kid.”

He could feel himself getting close, too close, after a minute so he roughly pulled Peter from his dick. “Shit, baby, almost made me cum,” he breathed heavily, almost as loud as the boy’s hurried lungfuls of air, and slowly tucked himself back into his slacks, still slick with spit. “You did so good, Peter.” His fingers released Peter’s hair, running through it soothingly a few times instead before moving to the lack of his head to tug at the blindfold.

Peter was firmly in subspace now, so the older man felt that the sensory deprivation wasn’t necessary anymore. And he wanted to see those big brown eyes for what he had planned next.

Kneeling down in front of him, Tony kissed the teen’s forehead and then his lips. His thumb swept over the apple of his cheek. “Hey, baby, can you look at me? How are you doing?”

Said eyes blinked up at him tearily, and Peter sniffled before coughing wetly. “Good,” he said, voice soft and wrecked, only able to meet the man’s gaze for a moment before his eyes fell. They paused on Tony’s clothed erection for a moment until they were trained on his own knees again. He blinked a few times before his mouth opened. “Knees hurt.”

Tony immediately moved, scooped the boy into his arms. “Thank you for telling me,” he said into Peter’s temple, pressing a kiss there before he gently deposited him on the bed. “Lay down for me, honey.” His eyes ran over the slight body sprawled out on top of the sheets, taking in the flush that seemed to cover most of Peter’s skin.

He looked absolutely delicious, slightly dazed with his cock hard and leaking in the dark blue of the lace panties.

Leaning down, Tony pressed gentle pecks over each of Peter’s red kneecaps, then switched to leaving a trail of them up the inside of his thighs.

Peter sighed happily, squirming a bit at the touch. He inhaled sharply when he suddenly felt the heat of Tony’s mouth over his fabric covered erection. “Daddy,” he whimpered, hips automatically twitching up in an attempt to find more stimulation.

“Shhhh,” Tony soothed, pulling away. He rubbed his thumb over this inside of Peter’s ankle. “Think you can kneel again for me, baby?” At Peter’s slight frown, he clarified, smiling softly. “Not on the floor, up here on the bed. Can you do that?” When he received a soft nod in response, he helped get the boy into position before climbing off the bed to rifle through one of the drawers in the nightstand, reassuring Peter that he just needed to grab something.

Peter watched him for a moment, mind drifting. He felt floaty, like he wasn’t quite in his body. It took a lot of effort to wiggle his toes, they felt...far away. Moving his fingers was easier, but it still took a good bit of concentration. Everything was soft, muted, like his head was stuffed full of cotton. Or something thick, like molasses.

It was a feeling that he decided he liked.

Suddenly Tony was back in front of him, stroking his cheek. “There you are, kid. Gonna tie you up now, okay honey?” He waited until Peter made eye contact with him before accepting it as consent, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and beginning to fiddle with the bundle of soft, black rope in his grip.

Peter smiled dopily to himself as he watched how Tony wrapped the silky cords around one hand before unwinding them again.

His gaze stayed on the man’s hands. He trusted those hands with anything. They were strong, capable. He never worried that those hands would hurt him. Not unless he wanted them to.

His eyes snapped up to Tony’s face when the dominant cleared his throat, calling Peter to attention once more.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, not breaking the heated eye contact that followed. He was getting lost in the depths of Tony's dark irises.

Tony hummed softly, fingers sliding against the soft rope that he was holding. “Don’t be, baby. It’s alright. What were you thinking about?” It was asked gently, but was clearly more of a command to answer than just a casual question.

“Your hands,” Peter answered instantly, cheeks heating at how eagerly he responded. He wanted to look away but found himself unable to.

“Uh huh. And what about them?”

“How strong they are. And beautiful. And how much I trust them. How much I trust you,” he whispered. He finally broke the eye contact, face burning. He probably sounded ridiculous.

“Look at me, honey.” Tony watched him, moving closer until he was kneeling on the bed in front of Peter. “I’m so glad you trust me.” He leaned in and pressed a gentle yet firm kiss to the sub’s lips as his hands moved to remove the blue lace from Peter’s chest. “Gonna take this off okay?”

Peter nodded slightly, melting into the kiss and whining when the heat of the other man’s lips left his.

A low chuckle came from Tony when he heard. He let the bralette fall to the floor at the side of the bed. “Sorry, baby. I’ve got something else I need to do before I can keep kissing you. Is that okay?”

“Yes, Daddy.” Peter’s bottom lip poked out slightly in a pout, despite his words.

“Thank you. Now, can you work with me here? I’ll need you to stay still for this part. Then we’ll lay you back down to do the rest.”

Peter nodded obediently, fixing his expression as he gazed at his husband.

Tony got to work quickly, staying silent as he focused.

The rope was looped around Peter’s chest, resting snugly on top of his pecs as it was brought back around and secured.

It was wrapped around again, underneath this time. The rope was tight around him, but not enough for it to hurt or even dig into his skin uncomfortably.

All he knew was the firm pressure of the cords around his body, holding onto him. He knew that he felt safe.

His eyes slipped shut as he relaxed, letting Tony artfully secure the silk rope around his body.

He didn’t open them again until he felt the warmth of his partner’s hands pulling away. He wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been spaced out, peacefully floating in his mind while Tony worked on him.

Tony leaned back to admire his handiwork, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “How does that feel, baby?” It certainly looked gorgeous, the black silk contrasting perfectly against Peter’s pale, lightly freckled skin.

“It’s-“ Peter’s voice was crackly as he started speaking. How long had it been since they started? Much longer than he’d realized, it seemed. “It’s really nice. Tight. But not too tight. Huggy.”

The older man laughed softly, rubbing a finger over one cord. If it was obvious that Peter was deep into subspace after the blowjob, Tony didn’t even know how to describe the boy’s current state. He loved it. It was nice to see him so relaxed and content.

He’d obviously needed someone else to take control of him for a while. And Tony was happy to help. He’d do anything for Peter.

“That’s good, honey. I don’t want it to hurt you. It’s supposed to be calming. Is it working? Do you feel safe?” He couldn’t keep the amused note out of his voice.

Peter nodded sluggishly, like the movement took all his focus. And it honestly did, given how deep he was in his headspace. Everything was soft and warm around the edges and nice.

“Good. Let’s lay you down now, okay? I’ll do your wrists next. Then your feet.” Tony walked the boy through the plan, letting him get used to the idea. He rubbed at his back as he straightened up on his knees, humming. “Not as young as I used to be, huh.” It was more to himself than anything.

“That’s okay, Daddy,” Peter spoke up gently as he moved forward on the bed a bit. It was hard to do so without being able to put his arms out to help steady him, so he was a bit wobbly on his knees, but managed to get to the center of the mattress. “I like you just the way you are.”

Tony chuckled, nodding. “I guess I’m glad for that, huh.” He placed a hand on the small of Peter’s back, helping guide him first into a sitting position, legs out in front of him, and then so that he was laying on his back. “Come on, baby. I know you’re all relaxed and everything, just need you to help me out a little with this.”

Once Peter was settled, he relaxed into the down comforter, content to just watch what the dom was doing.

Tony grabbed the final lengths of rope that he’d need to finish up. One for Peter’s wrists, then two others: one for each of his ankles. Those would be used to tie his feet to the end of the bed, keeping his legs spread. Less calm-inducing than the others, but it was infinitely more functional given his plans.

He took the longer cord first, humming as he tried to think about how he wanted Peter’s hands tied.

Typically he’d go for behind the back, it always had a nice, clean look and made the temptation to touch lessen. It also did a lot for making one feel truly restrained. But he needed the sub to be on his back, so he ultimately decided that his hands would be tied in the front.

He mentally went through the rope work he was planning, wanting to make sure he didn’t overlook anything, before he began executing the action on his husband.

It took only a few minutes for Tony to secure his hands in front of him, before he was moving on to his lower body. He tied the rope around his ankles and feet, so that the pressure wasn’t all in one spot and making the boy sore, and then finished by securing it to the footboard of the bed.

Peter tugged at the bonds slightly when he noticed that Tony was done, looking down at the loops around his ankles from where his head was propped up on the pillows.

He knew that he could easily get out of the restraints if he wanted. But the thing was...he didn’t want to.

He was finally able to give up control, not having to constantly have everything in his grip. He was able to hand it all off to Tony, letting himself relax.

And it was absolutely perfect.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as Tony’s hands started sliding up his sides, stopping when they reached the harness wrapped around him.

“You look amazing, baby,” Tony mused. Then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his sub’s sternum. Right above the place where the harness was divided up the middle and split to loop over Peter’s shoulders.

As he pulled his lips away, his hands came up to cup at Peter’s chest. His pecs were pushed out from the way the rope was tight around them. Tony was entranced.

“Look at these gorgeous tits,” he teased, thumbs quickly swiping over Peter’s peaked nipples.

It caused Peter to flush and shiver, arching up into the slight contact. It was nothing too serious, but he needed it all the same.

“Daddy,” he whined, breath catching in his throat. “Please….”

“Please what?” Tony asked, smirking slightly. “Use your words, kid. What do you want?”

Peter huffed. “Want you to touch me,” he breathed.

Tony’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Oh, is that all? Want me to touch you? Well, baby, I’m sure I can do just that.”

The gleam in his eyes made the teen slightly nervous again, but-

No, maybe nervous was the wrong word. He still couldn’t quite come up with a better description, though. Maybe he was… He was excited. Tony obviously had plans for him. And he still couldn’t wait to know exactly what they were.

“Thank you, Daddy,” he said sweetly.

Tony hummed softly, quickly pinching one of Peter’s nipples before withdrawing his touch entirely. “You remember that, okay? You wanted me to touch you. Acted like you’d die without it.”

Peter whimpered at the sharp stimulation and then again at its absence, hips rocking up unconsciously. “I’ll remember, Daddy, promise.”

“Good. I think it’s about time we start.” He paused for a moment, sitting back as he looked over his boy. “You remember your safeword?”

He shook his head as Peter nodded. “I need you to tell me what it is, kid. So I know that you know.”

Another little huff, the teen squirming impatiently. “It’s ‘rhubarb’, Daddy. Please-”

Tony smiled. "Alright, baby, thank you." Reaching out, he caressed Peter's cheek before leaning down to press their lips together. He let his tongue swipe over the teen's bottom lip and he was instantly granted access.

Peter mewled when Tony’s tongue licked at his own, body going boneless when a hand also began to apply a gentle but firm grip on his neck. He could feel the metal of Tony’s wedding ring. The soft, plaintive sounds just kept coming while Tony explored his mouth and a punched out little gasp left him when he suddenly found himself under the pressure of the man’s bodyweight. Without his permission, his hips jerked forward, desperately seeking more friction than the snug press of the lace panties against his leaking cock. The differing textures of Tony’s shirt and pants sent a shiver down his spine, and while the pace of his rutting was slow, the amount of force behind it increased.

Breathing heavily, Tony pulled back for a minute and turned his head so that he could mouth wetly at the side of his husband’s neck. He sucked a bruise into the skin there, drinking up the high, whines that the action elicited from Peter. “That’s it, baby, you gonna use Daddy’s body to get off?” He let out a groan when Peter’s erection slid against his own where it lay trapped in his briefs and suit pants.

Nodding, the boy shifted as he tried to move his limbs to wrap around Tony’s neck and waist. He cried out softly when he couldn’t, pulling at his restraints. “Daddy,” he whined, voice thin. “I want- I need-”

“Shhhh,” Tony soothed, lips capturing Peter’s again before pulling away, a strand of spit connecting them. “I know what you need, Peter.” He licked filthily into the teen’s open mouth. His dick throbbed at the way Peter went boneless underneath him again, offering himself up and letting Tony explore his mouth in a way that was truly indecent.

Their bodies undulated against each other as they made out, and Tony could tell that the younger man was getting close by the way his muscles would clench every couple of seconds.

He ground down against the soft, pliant body on the mattress, groaning. “Fuck, baby,” he breathed, looking into Peter’s moony eyes as the boy rutted desperately against his abdomen. “You’re so perfect, Peter, so beautiful. Shit, c’mon kid, make yourself cum for Daddy. C’mon baby.”

“Ahhhhh,” Peter whined, squeezing his eyes shut. “Daddy, please, gonna- I’m gonna-,” the words were cut off by a choked gasp as he tensed, toes curling. Still trapped in the panties, and in between their bodies, his cock jumped in its confines, hot spurts of sticky cum pooling underneath the head and smearing with his movements.

Tony could feel a wet patch forming on his thigh and he moaned low in his throat, his own erection almost painfully hard. But this wasn’t about him, it was all for Peter. He’d get his turn eventually. “Good boy, Peter,” he whispered roughly, pressing kisses wherever he could reach, taking in the blissed out look on his boy’s face.

“Daddy,” he sighed, heart thumping wildly in his chest. Peter’s body continued shuttering through the aftershocks, hips twitching up weakly as Tony pulled away.

After one more kiss, Tony started sitting up again to look over the teen’s body. His mouth watered at the sight of the cum against the lace covered hipbone, and the corresponding stain on the dark fabric of his pants. He ran a hand lightly over his own cock, adjusting it. “How did that feel, baby? Happy now?”

“Mhm….” he mumbled, again going limp against the bed. He felt like he was melting, disappearing like wet spun sugar. Everything felt slow. “Jus’ what I wanted, so good Daddy….” but he couldn’t deny that he still wanted more. He wanted his Daddy’s hands on him, possessive and guiding. Although he already felt the sensitivity creeping in, making him think that maybe waiting for a little bit before going again would be a good idea.

“Uh huh. That’s good, honey. You were so good for me, Peter.” Tony’s fingers trailed up Peter’s thigh, watching the muscles flex and tense underneath his touch. “But I’m not done with you yet, kid.”

Peter made a confused noise in the back of his throat before he started whining as his Daddy’s fingers brushed over his slowly softening cock. He arched his back, pushing his ass down into the bed in a fruitless attempt to get away from the touch. “Daddy, too much.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. He didn’t move his hand away, since Peter didn’t safeword, but he did pause, not doing anything more. “Too much? Do you need to use your word?”

The teen slowly shook his head, breathing hard. He didn’t want Tony to stop. He was just sensitive and he knew that the feeling would only increase.

“Okay, baby. If you’re sure.” He hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of Peter’s panties, slowly starting to tug them down his thighs. He grinned at the sight of the teen’s flushed cock laying against his hip, skin slick with streaks of cum. “You look gorgeous, Peter. You know that?” He brushed over the half-hard length, chuckling at how the boy twitched. “I know, I’m sorry. But I’m just doing what you wanted.”

Peter figured that was right. He had wanted to be touched. He should have known that was going to come back to bite him in the ass. A soft whine left him as Tony’s fingers started massaging his cock back to hardness. Although it didn’t take much.

“There we go...I knew you could go again. With that incredible recovery period of yours,” he teased.

Suddenly his touch was gone and Peter squirmed, hips rocking again. But he stilled when he noticed what Tony was doing.

The older man started with a chaste kiss to his lips, trailing presses of his lips down the teen’s body slowly. He moved down the bed as he worked, settling between Peter’s thighs with his lips on his hip bone. Hardly an inch away from where Peter wanted him.

Peter’s cock twitched against his stomach, like it was trying to reach Tony’s mouth. “Daddy….”

“Uh uh,” Tony chided, blowing a gentle breath across the sub’s damp skin. “You stay still. I’m doing things at my pace, you need to be patient.”

Dropping his head back against the pillows, Peter let out a shaky breath. He had a feeling that it would be a long night.

[bakugou-jpg]

Amnesia|| Bokuto x reader [Haikyuu hq server collab]

Hello ! This is my part for the Haikyuu headquarters server collab. The prompt for the stories is Amnesia and Bokuto’s the character i will be writing for. The rest of the wonderful writers that participated in this collab can be found here

Summary: Bokuto has to deal with a s/o that suffers from amnesia after a car accident

Warnings: Amnesia

Theme: Angst

Words: 3080

_______________________________________

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

From waking up before you, waiting for you to wake up while he was staring at your extremely adorable and gorgeous sleeping face even if there was a little bit of drool on the side of your lips. How your eyes would slightly squint open and your hands immediately reaching out for him only for him to engulf you into a hug while attacking you with kisses on your neck,cheeks, shoulders, nose and lastly a soft sensual kiss pressed against your lips.

It was his drug, you were his drug. The way your kiss could drag his mind away from soberness to get drunk on the soft feeling of your lips moving against his. The way your arms felt around his waist whenever you gave him his 'goodluck-charm' hug before an important game.

Bokuto was oh so sure you were forever gonna be his and how he'd spend the rest of his life together with the thing he had gotten oh so addicted to. How you'd be standing in the bleachers cheering him in until his very last game, how he'd always be able to sulk into your shoulder whenever he felt down, how you'd always giggle at his sometimes purposely stupid dumb antics because he wanted to hear you laugh.

He wanted to take you all over the world, show you the beauty of all the different cultures and go on a fun taste-testing city trip to try out all the unfamiliar new foods.

It was all his fault. All of it.

His memory was still fuzzy, after all the hit his head had gotten wasn't nothing. He remembered seeing the headlights of the car that was approaching his at a speed that was way over the limit, the feeling of his heart dropping still present in a way.

The seconds after this, of you screaming and him trying to keep you safe in a failed attempt by holding his arm in front of you went by quickly. Bokuto couldn't even remember what happened after this, in all honesty he couldn't even remember when his head crashes into the side of the door or when he passed our. Just the headlights that were now forever burned into his eyes.

The throbbing in his head was unbearable, but in that moment all he could care about was the sight of you passed out with your head hanging forward as blood dripped out of your nose onto the airbag and your white cardigan one he had given to you.

Bokuto couldn't remember when the ambulance arrived and got both you and h out of the car. He couldn't remember the trip to the hospital nor being moved to the room he had woken up in several hours later.

A heavy concussion, 24 stitches and a broken leg is all he had. Nothing too dangerous, nor life changing. After all, the airbag had caught most of the crash's impact luckily. To him, it was nothing he couldn't get over.

It should've been him, really. After all he was the one that came up with a surprise trip at 11 pm to McDonald's because he wanted a mcflurry. That 4 dollar piece of shitty vanilla ice cream mixed together with whatever sweet bullshit wasn't worth it in any way.

All he wanted to hear when he entered your hospital room was you calling out for his name, relieved that he was okay and then the two of you would cry together because you were scared and he cries whenever you cry because his baby owl shouldn't ever cry because then he'll cry and fuck.

He didn't want to be greeted by dull looking eyes, ones that didn't seem to realize they were currently looking at someone they had been looking at oh so lovingly for the last 5 years. You weren't aware of the fact you had spend your most cherished memories with the build man currently standing in front of you. That he was the one you had spend nights with of just cuddling together and enjoying each other's presence.

When the doctor had hit him with the news, he felt all the life he had in him deflate. Bokuto felt sick, the bitter taste in his mouth making him want to throw up all the contents in his stomach. It felt like a nightmare who's plot just got dropped at his shoes that he couldn't wake up from.

The hit you had gotten on your head wasn't one like Bokuto had gotten. You didn't get to shrug it off with a heavy concussion like he did. It was so strange and unfair, the two of you had been in the same accident and you of all people had been the one who's world fell apart and you weren't even aware of it.

Amnesia.

Amnesia is a form of memory loss. Some people with amnesia have difficulty forming new memories. Others can't recall facts or past experiences. People with amnesia usually retain knowledge of their own identity, as well as motor skills.

You knew your name, your age. You knew who your parents were and where you lived. You could very vaguely remember what you did for a living, atleast somewhere in that direction.

Bokuto?

...

"Bokuto-san?"

Lost in thought, Bokuto's eyes quickly snapped up from the dining table to lock with yours. It didn't take long before his eyes lit up and a bright smile beamed on his face, feeling so much to what you felt whenever your blankets would hug you at night whenever you were cold it was something that always confused you for you couldn't remember anything about him or him and you in general.

"What's troubling you, pretty lady~?"

His voice was like sinking into a warm bath, slowly engulfing you into a warm trance that made you feel like you were floating on nothing but warm air. Whenever he started slowly picking up his old nicknames for you again, it made heat creep to the tips of your ears.

When you woke up the first thing you had noticed was the throbbing in your head. It didn't take long until you had opened your eyes,immediately being blinded by the brightness of the bright white walls. Honestly, making the walls of the hospital white was for sure the most uncomfortable thing that had ever been done it wasn't exactly comforting.

Everything was..weird. Your mind was like a blank canvas, only very small smudged out lines of a sketch that had recently been erased with an eraser present for those lines were too thick to erase. That canvas had stayed blank for as long as you could remember.

When the doctors came inside to talk to you and started asking you questions, to which you could only answer a few of. Apparently you had amnesia, something which you didn't even know what it was at first until they explained.

Before the incident you had always thought during your common shower thoughts that were you to ever have amnesia that you'd panic immediately, wondering about what your life was like who you were where you were etc..but right now you were calm. Still that blank canvas only now there were very thin lines of a sketch visible but there was still so much missing.

The build man that had entered your room shortly after was something you'd never forget. He was strolled in in a wheelchair, perhaps he too had an accident? Did he know you, after all why else would he visit you? You didn't question it too much, simply too tired to stress over such things.

He introduced himself as Bokuto, a name that held a weird sort of nostalgic feeling for you yet you couldn't point out why exactly.

The first thing you noticed about him was the fact there were tears in his eyes the whole entire time he was there, desperately trying to hold them in and sometimes he'd quickly wipe them away with his sleeve hoping you wouldn't notice.

Bokuto had been incredibly kind, funny too. He'd come by everyday to talk to you and you didn't even question it too much for it felt so normal to spend your time with him.

You knew the two of you shared some kind of bond before all of this, there was no doubt in it he had probably been in the same accident that took your memory from you.

So when the news of the two of you having been in a relationship had been broken to you, you weren't surprised. The tears that had welled up in his eyes when he told you broke your heart for the man's whole body sulked and his eyes held nothing but sorrow.

He tried putting up a smile all the time for you, trying to brush the guilt and sorrow off hos shoulders like it wasn't as bad as he thought it was. It felt only natural to move your hand towards his and give it a squeeze, after all he had been kind to you and you didn't want him to go through this by himself.

There had to be a reason why you had fallen for him, so it couldn't be too bad to comfort him at this moment.

Bokuto broke. The moment your hands engulfed his and you started talking to him in that soft voice you always used whenever he went into his emo mode or felt insecure about anything he couldn't take it anymore.

He wanted you back, it wasn't fair. This wasn't fair this wasn't what was supposed to happen, he didn't want this. He wanted you to smile at him like you did when you woke up next to him every morning before kissing him with those lips he loved so much.He wanted you to hold him close while running your fingers through his hair while whispering sweet nothings into his ear. He wanted to feel you, to touch you and love you with all he had but he couldn't.

At this point he wasn't even sure if he would ever be able to again, he didn't like it at all he hated it truly hated it. He wanted more than just a hand squeeze, he wanted to dive into your arms while sobbing into your chest while you shushed him. To look back at this as an obstacle the two of you had gone past, being able to live the life full of surprises he wanted with you. Bokuto wanted to kiss your lips, to feel them move against his while you would gently hold his face and wipe away his tears with your thumb before engulfing him into your arms again and run your fingers through his hair.

He couldn't

To you, he was nothing but a stranger anymore. All those days he spent with you in his arms, safe and secure with your face smushed into his broad chest while dozing off on the couch while he was watching you fight against your sleep with a small smile on his face. All those days where you were chasing him around the house with a nerf gun while laughing whenever he'd trip over the carpet in the hallway hitting his head against the wall. Days where you and him would talk about insecurities, doubts and fears you had for you felt safe with each other. Night where you were his and he was yours, needing nothing but each other.

It was a dream, a bad one it had to be. This couldn't happen to you two, right? Those things only happened in movies. Well atleast in movies they'd atleast eventually remember everything again,but you.. It was a nightmare he was trapped in, he had to get out, wanted to wake up. He had to wake up, to open his eyes dammit why couldn't he wake up.

You were robbed of basically everything, all the things that had formed you into the person you had become.

"Why are you doing this?"

The question took Bokuto off guard. His eyes widened slightly before squinting together on confusion. "Doing..what?" He muttered. In all honesty, he knew exactly what you meant. It had been a question he had been avoiding answering for the longest time, never wanting to be confronted and be put on the spot like he currently was.

Your arms moved around a little, signaling to a non-existing object,space, person who knew. "I-..This. Why are you still here, if to me you are nothing more than a stranger who apparently was my boyfriend in a life I don't even remember nor do i know if i ever will?"

The words felt like daggers being stabbed several times into his chest before being twisted around, making the pain even worse than it already was. He could fee his throat close up slightly, a lump building itself up in the bottom of it. All the things you were saying had been things he already knew but hearing you say them out loud hurt even more.

Bokuto laughed it off, slapping the table lightly before clearing his throat in a failed attempt to get rid of that horrible lump. "Woah, didn't expect that to go so deep! Give me a break~" He said with a sigh, a forced grin present on his face to once again hide his fragile side.

Your face had fallen upon hearing his words and seeing his reaction. It was obvious that he was hurting himself constantly, trying to patch something together that had a possibility of being beyond broken. Bokuto was trying to give himself, constantly telling himself that everything would turn back to normal while running away from the truth.

"Bokuto-san"

That wasn't right. It wasn't right. You were supposed to say Kou, a nickname you've been using ever since the two of you became close friends. He longed to hear you whisper his name into his ear whenever you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, for you to use pet names whenever you'd cuddle him in your arms and squish his cheeks.

He had been to preoccupied with his thoughts to notice your hands reaching out for his, only snapping back to his thoughts when you gave them a gentle squeeze. His eyes locked onto yours and saw how yours had softened upon the eye contact yet there was a layer of sadness they held. It hurt to see, knowing that if he hadn't pushed certain buttons maybe this wouldn't be the case.

As your thumb gently traced his knuckles, something you did before everything that happened. You didn't have to remember it, Bokuto knew it was because of your caring nature that you'd always figure out rather quickly how to comfort different people. You knew how to comfort him, yet all he really wanted was to be wrapped up in your arms and the memory of it made his chest hurt again.

Bokuto deflated again, his shoulders slumping and his eyes falling down onto the table.

"What happened, wasn't your fault. There will never be a day that i will put the blame on you and i'm sorry for what happened. I truly wish i could remember all the memories we've shared together over the years, that i could remember what it felt like to fall in love with you."

Now it was you who was getting teary eyed, something Bokuto hadn't seen ever since you had woken up. All this time you were lost in your own mind, surely you had questions about your life..not a lot though. You must've been trying to avoid thinking about it too much, making feeling Bokuto even more guilty for it seemed you had to force yourself to talk about something you wanted to avoid for the sake of comforting him. He felt like a horrible excuse of a boyfriend, hell he wasn't even sure if he was still allowed to call himself that.

"I wish, i could give it back to you. I really do and i am in every possible way open to the idea of making new memories with you but i really need you to understand that the person i was, before all this happened, the person you loved..isn't gonna be the person you're currently looking at."

The way your voice was breaking, the way you tried oh so hard to keep the tears from flowing and the way your hands were trembling above his own. Bokuto turned his hands upwards and cupped yours in his own. The feeling felt like nostalgia, like a deja vu you wanted to bask in forever.

Having to let go of the image he had of you felt impossible. Every morning Bokuto woke up, he had this underlying spark of hope that you'd be standing in the kitchen waiting for him while calling out his name with tears in your eyes before he ran towards you and taking you in his arms while spinning you around. How the two of you would talk about your most chesired memories you shared together. It still felt like a nightmare, waking up to an empty bed with nothing but him-well couch since he gave you the bed.

The feeling of your hands leaving his felt faint yet he was very aware of the very last touch he had of your skin on his.

"I..think i should go" the words hurt but he knew it was for the best. For he knew that if he kept living in his own fantasy world that you would keep on hurting and so would he.

It was for the best, he thought as he kept looking down at where you once stood.

It was for the best, he thought as he heard the front door shut not even having heard you leave.

It was for the best, he thought as he felt himself starting to break down while crawling into a little ball on the couch clutching onto the pillow that faintly smelled like your perfume.

Images of your smile, your voice and the feeling of your skin were replaying in his head. Your hand in his, your lips leaving small patterns on his shoulders making him giggle and your hands running through his hair while cuddling in bed. How you'd tell him you loved him and told him about how you'd picture your future together.

It was for the best, he thought.

It was for the best

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x reader Season I

Chapter 10- The White Violin Part 1

Summary: Vanya’s finally come to realize her full power, taking the Academy with her. Now it’s up to the Hargreeves siblings and you, to find and stop her from causing the apocalypse. Unfortunately you run into a bit of trouble along the way.

Masterlist- where all the other chapters are⚔️

Warning: Violence, Y/N is a stabby all around badass so it gets bloody 

Tagged: @sambucky8 @white-wolf-buckaroo @2cuteforyourlies @la-vie-en-amour1 @fandomoverlord221 @thatfandombitcch @alonewolfsblog @starrrybarnes @winterboobear11

Suddenly another wave of energy seems to pulse through the house, shaking the very foundation. Your eyes snap up to the sound of crumbling paint and pieces of the ceiling starting to crack and actively deteriorate. In an instant you’ve shot to your feet, turning your head to the upstairs balcony when you hear footsteps running on the wooden floor. You can hear Klaus and Diego calling out for Grace, but their shouting is soon silenced by more rubble clattering to the ground, shaking the house once again.

You race up the stairs to the second floor balcony where you just heard the distinct voices of Klaus and Diego. But by the time you get up there, both of them have disappeared. You look around the area in confusion, as more and more of the building cracks and breaks around you. Without warning a giant chuck of ceiling breaks free from the rest of its placement, hurling itself down at you. You dodge it, sliding on the tiled floor in the process. When another chunk falls down on your shoulder, knocking you harshly onto the ground, fortunately when your face is temporarily pressed to the wooden floorboards. You catch the scent of Diego and Klaus, their trail leading out to an open window. That’s now blocked by flaming debris of wood and whatever else. Dammit.

Your eyes scan the wall, finding another window you make a break for it, throwing your arm in front of your face to better prepare for impact. A moment later you feel a pressure and then tiny shards of glass flying all around you, as you jump out the window. For a few seconds you blissfully free-fall in the cool night air, before the hard concrete gives you a rude awakening. Darkness. When you open your eyes about 10 seconds later, you gasp in pain as your hip, rip-cage, and the left side of your skull moves around to fall back into its original placement. You watch as your previously broken arm, fuses back into place with a distinctly gory bob sound. With no time to spare you jump to your feet, dodging more pieces of the dying Academy.

When you make it round the corner, the whole entirety of the Academy has been reduced to rubble and flames. “First mom. Now Pogo. Where the hell his Y/N?!” Shouts Diego on the verge of tears. You run through the fallen bricks to the sound of his voice, finally spotting everyone, still alive and well, for the most part. “Diego!” You scream, racing over to him, he looks up at you with a downcast face before it turns into a relieved frown.

A second later, Five is jumping over a destroyed couch, “Guys! This is it. The apocalypse is still on. The world ends today.” He announces quickly, getting closer to the five of you, who all stare at him in troubled confusion. “I thought you said it was over.” Wonders Luther. Five starts to unfold a newspaper, “I was wrong, okay? This newspaper, I found it in the future the day I got stuck. The headline hasn’t changed.” He explains wide eyed.

“No, that doesn’t mean anything. The time could’ve been altered since that newspaper came out this morning.” Diego says, denying everything Five is telling you guys, not wanting to believe in the fact that the world just might end after all.

“You’re not listening to me. When I found it, I assumed this place came down along with everything else. But here we are. The Moon’s still shining, the Earth is still in one piece, but not the Academy.” Klaus suddenly snatches the crinkled newspaper from Five’s hand, “I’m confused.” He states baffled, Five furrows his brows in frustration, “Then listen to me, you idiot! Vanya destroys the Academy before the apocalypse. I thought Harold Jenkins was the cause, but he was just the fuse. Vanya is the bomb.” He exclaims pausing for a moment to let the information sink in, “Vanya causes the apocalypse.”

Right after Five finishes laying down the hard truth about Vanya and the apocalypse, you look up to hear the chopping of a helicopters blades. A giant spotlight is then intrusively beaming on all of you. “We have to find Vanya. Regroup at the Super Star. Go!” Shouts Luther over the blaring noise, you don’t have to think twice, as you grab Diego’s hand. The two of you bolting for the nearby bowling alley.

——

All of you stand around a table at the bowling alley, the atmosphere is tense, everyone's emotions all over the place as to what just occurred and what to do next. Luther stares at the floor with a hard and concentrated expression, as you look up to observe his face from your spot next to Diego. You suddenly narrow your eyes at him, your jaw clenching in growing irritation. Diego’s gaze snaps over to your sudden tenseness, his eyebrows rising in suspicion when your fists start to clench.

“You drugged me you dick!” You bitterly snap at Luther, everyone’s faces go from yours to Luther’s rightfully wide eyed one. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing appears to come out as he just stands there awkwardly avoiding everyone’s prying eyes. You let out an agitated snort, standing up from your seat next to Diego, Luther takes a step back while studying your hostile movements.

“I have half a mind to slap the ever present dumbass out of you, but I can’t promise that I’ll be able to stop myself after that.” You state through clenched teeth, pausing for a moment to collect yourself from your rising anger.

“I..uh...Y/N, I didn’t kn..”

“No! Shut up, your speaking privileges have been revoked, so listen here. First you put Vanya in a goddamn cage, then you forcefully stop everyone from getting her out, and then when I try to help her...you fucking drug me. Were you wacked to many times on your head as a child, because if you can’t find your common sense I’ll frickin’ help you find it.” You aggressively state at a visibly sweating Luther, he takes another small step back, honestly afraid that you might indeed hold true to your word. “I don’t know what kinda thought process you had when you were thinking that any of this was a good idea, but clearly it has given us a one way ride into the fucking apocalypse and I did not ask you to share your tickets.” Diego suddenly reaches up to grip your left arm before you’re able to move out of reach and bitch-slap the stupid right out of Luther. Your head quickly turns to look down at Diego, “I’m not...I’m not going to hurt him D, at least not yet.” You tell him, whispering the last part with quiet malice. Diego sends you a sympathetic nod, still hurting from the destructive and violent demise of Grace.

“I know, and you have every right to be angry, as do the rest of us. But, Y/N this isn’t going to get us anywhere.” Your brows furrow in frustration as you anxiously bite your lip. Slightly taken aback by Diego’s ability to keep his shit together, well at least for the time being. You still have no idea that not even ten minutes ago he was almost in tears when he couldn’t find you in the rubble of the fallen Umbrella Academy.

You let out a tired sigh, looking down at the floor for a second before bringing your troubled gaze back up to a distraught Luther. “You’re lucky Diego’s here.” You warn him with a glare as you sit down next to Diego once again, “I’d throw a bowling ball right at your fucking face.” You growl at him, crossing your arms and legs in annoyance while leaning into Diego’s side. He puts a gloved hand on your thigh in an act of earnest comfort, your tenseness falters ever so lightly as you scowl at the dirty bowling alley floor. The others keep to themselves, everyone shrinking into their own worlds to think for a couple minutes. While you continue to lean into Diego’s warm side and brood like a troubled lighthouse keeper waiting for her husband to come back from the sea. The atmosphere between the six of you still considerably awkward and stressed.

“Look, I hate to be the one to say this, but everyone needs to prepare.” Carefully starts Luther, making up a new plan on the spot, as all of your heads turn to look at him.

“For what?” Asks Diego.

“To do whatever it takes to stop Vanya.” Allison wacks Luther on the chest before he can finish, he looks at her offended, “We may not have a choice Allison.” He snaps without any real anger towards her. “Bullshit. There’s always options.” Adds Diego, sitting opposite of Luther in a bowling alley chair.

“Yeah, like what?” Grumbles Five, Diego looks down for a second to think, “I don’t know?” You roll your eyes, no one is getting anywhere fast at this rate. “Whatever we happen to decide in the next three years. We need to find Vanya.” You tell them, standing up from your chair and crossing your arms, trying to think of something that could work.

“Or...here. Look at this.” Says Klaus, opening up the newspaper he’s been reading, wider for everyone to see, you all crowd around him. “That’s right. Her concert is tonight.” Says Diego, referring to the obvious newspaper ad, a big colored picture of Vanya with her violin, as well as the time and place of the concert.

You hear footsteps approaching from behind, “Hello. I hate to intrude, but my manager says if you’re not here to bowl, you gotta leave.” Says the bowling alley employee, a tad bit passive aggressively if you’re being honest. 

“Who’s turn?” You deadpan, as Luther grabs a ball, chucking it across the lanes, evidently making a lucky strike. The lady turns around to leave, unsure of how to respond to that.

Allison quickly scribbles down something in her notes. She’s our sister. “We’re the only ones capable of stopping this. We have a responsibility to Dad.” States Luther, of course he’d bring Reginald into this.

“To Dad? I’ve heard enough about...” Diego snaps as Luther stands up, interrupting him, “He sacrificed everything to bring us back together.”

You want to argue against him, but oddly enough, he’s right. “I’m with Luther on this one. We can’t give her a chance to fight back. There are billions of lives at stake. We’re past trying to save just one.” Five tells all of you, it’s a terrible and tragic thing to hear, but this is the whole world or Vanya. No one ever said the right decision would be the easiest one.

“Hey, you know, guys, uh...maybe I could help.” Klaus randomly announces, Luther jumping at the chance to turn him down, “Now is not the time Klaus.” He says sternly, not wanting to deal with Klaus’ usual nonsense. “Let him finish.” Retorts Diego, waving Luther off. “He saved my life today.” Finishes Diego, not what you thought he would say, clearly neither did Luther, who questions Klaus about it.

“Yeah, yeah I did....take credit for it. In fact, the real hero...was Ben.” All of you stare at Klaus doubtful, oddly enough you could have swore you heard a muffled reply to Klaus’ rambling. What the? You haven’t been able to hear Ben’s ghost since before Klaus’ addictions muddied up the connection to much, considering your senses are only able to hear Ben when Klaus is near. He’s literally a human Ouija board you swear.

“Today...listen. Today, he punched me in the face. And earlier at the house, he was the one who saved Diego’s life, not me.” Explains Klaus, he’s not lying, you’re truly intrigued now more then ever.

“You are unbelievable, Klaus.” Complains Luther, dumbfounded.

“You want proof, is that it? All right. I’ll give you proof.” Klaus then picks up a pink bowling ball, holding it in his two hands, getting ready to throw it, “All right, it’s showtime, baby. Catch!” He exclaims at the nearby empty space between Allison and a rack of bowling balls.

He throws the ball, it falling right past Allison as it makes a loud thud when it hits the floor. Luther is not amused one bit by Klaus’ shenanigans, in return for his rudeness, Klaus accidentally lets slip the fact that Luther was nicer before he got laid. Earning wide eyes from Allison and the rest of you, Luther snaps at Klaus to shut up, but he just makes it worse when adding in the part where it was an accident cause Luther was actually high.

Allison face is a mix of amazement and disappointment all in one as she abruptly turns around, walking away from rest of you, while Luther trails behind her trying to explain himself. You let them talk it out, as you sit down in one of the doubled side-by-side plastic chairs, choosing the empty spot next to Diego.  Klaus is in front of the both of you, Five in his own seat next to him. Out of nowhere, a random but incredibly bubbly plump lady and her son walk up to you, Diego, Klaus, and Five.

“Excuse me. But it’s my son, Kenny’s birthday today and...um..wouldn’t your son be happier playing with kids his own age?” She says expectantly, with the largest and most annoying of smiles, “Assuming it’s okay with you and your husband.” She asks you sweetly, looking between you, Diego, and Five. Klaus looks to the two of you with raised eyebrows as he covers his mouth to hide a muffled laugh, Diego focuses on her before turning to you with an agitated and puzzled glance.

You give her a tight lipped smile about to say some smart-ass remark when Five beats you to it, “I would rather chew off my own foot.” He growls through clenched teeth. The lady’s face falls as you look over at him with a fake frown, turning to this lady with an equally false beaming smile.

“Maybe some other time, he gets cranky when he doesn’t have his apple juice before 8 o’clock.” She gives you a knowing motherly nod, as she hastily turns around with her son, walking away from all of you. 

“Y/N what the hell was that shit.” Snaps Five as Klaus and Diego let out muffled laughter. You turn to him with a smirk, “What? You just missed out on an opportunity to make your first friend in 45 years.” He looks elsewhere with a sigh,”Yeah cause I need friends, you people are enough to handle already.”

Suddenly Five gets distracted by some swishing noise, getting up to check on it elsewhere in the facility. You, Klaus, and Diego don’t care enough to follow.

You slouch back in the small uncomfortable bowling alley seat, Diego leaning in close to your side with a mischievous grin. “If we had a kid, I hope they wouldn’t be like Five.” You look up at him, “If we had a kid like Five we’d have to just throw the whole kid away. And FYI, I just hope they aren’t like you when it comes to stubbornness.” You sass back, he gives you a half offended look. You just smile at him as he looks back adoringly at you, “Well I guess we won’t even need to have a wedding, that lady already confirmed you’re my wife so.” You snort at his remark, “Then if you happen to end up dead somewhere, do I get widow compensation money benefits to go along, cause I would love an apartment overlooking the city.” You ask him, giving him a playful nudge, Diego just shakes his head with a smile. “I’ll get us that apartment someday...its coming I promise.” He assures you, lightly poking your side, you just roll your eyes in reply.

He leans back, throwing an arm over your shoulder as the two of you look around the bowling alley for anything suspicious. You lean yourself closer into his side, enjoying this small moment of silent affection. “Just so the two of you know, I want to be invited to this wedding.” Adds Klaus out of nowhere, you glance over to him with a nod, “You can be the best man.” You tell him, his face instantly lights up, already thinking of some extravagant outfit and speech to have ready. Diego just chuckles at the two of you, thinking his own pleasant thoughts for that day. Hoping that it will eventually come to light, if the apocalypse doesn’t ruin everything first.

“All right, where’s Five?” Wonders Luther, walking back up to the three of you. 

“He left.” Says Diego, standing up again, you doing the same.

“Oh, for the love of...where’d he go?”

“Didn’t say.” You add, assuming it must of been important if he just teleported away without saying anything first. Or maybe he had to take a huge shit, but who knows.

“Well, we’re not waiting around for him. The concert starts in 30 minutes.” States Luther.

“All right, so what’s the plan?” Diego asks him, although you’re doubtful it’s going to be a good one. Luther pauses for a moment, “Well, I think that, uh.....we go to the Icarus Theater.” You cut in, “That’s a place....not a plan.” He opens his mouth to say something but decides otherwise.

“What? Is that all you got?” Accuses Diego, walking in closer to Luther, “Look, you wanna be Number One, fine, but you’re gonna have to get us on the same page, because right now, we’re all over the place.” Luther looks at Diego almost bored, clearly getting that he’s right, but never wanting to fully admit it, until now, “You’re right....We need a plan.”

As Luther is finishing up his sentence, your eyes snap up to the scent of ammunition, your nose locating the bullets like a shark smelling a drop of blood in the ocean. Your brows furrow as you squint your eyes to the darkly clad gas masked looking motherfuckers with guns, sneaking their way into the bowling alley. If they were trying to be subtle, mission sorely failed. They don’t look like they’re from around here, and you have a strong hunch they’re not here to bowl. You don’t even have time to warn anyone before these bastards start raining bullets like there’s no tomorrow, and quit literally there might not be one.

You take cover behind the bowling alley tables, these ones conveniently cover all the way to the floor, giving you and the rest of the Hargreeves a place to hide. “Who the hell are these guys?” Shouts Diego wide eyed, he’s sitting to your right, as Luther sits to your left.

“Maybe they’re here for Kenny’s birthday!” Yells Klaus, covering his ears from the intrusive racket. Your own ears are bounding with each gun that goes off, you’re quickly getting pissed. “No, I’m pretty sure they’re here for us!” Answers Luther, as more bullets continue to mercilessly search for their breathing targets. “The fuck do we do now? All I’ve got is my boot knife.” You tell the four of them, suddenly Diego jumps up, throwing a dagger into the chest of one of the weird masked guys. In the process the lights flip to night mode, neon lasers are flashing every which way. Luther stands up, launching a heavy bowling ball into one of them, knocking them out.

You stand up yourself, pulling your pencil-long silver dagger from out of your hidden boot pocket, Diego continues to throw his knives while Luther grabs more bowling balls, chucking them at the shooters. You jump up on the table in front of you, front flipping through the air and gracefully landing in a crouched position as you slash your dagger into the Achilles tendon of the closest masked shooter. Slitting it open in one clean motion, he instantly falls to the floor where you then throw your hands tightly around his neck and snap it with little effort. You dart to the left next, vaulting yourself onto the pool table. Your left hand holds you up as you swing your legs and body over the table, sucker punching your next target in the head with a powerful kick.

He falls to the ugly looking carpet with a thud, you flip backwards avoiding the bullets from his friend who’s to your right. He misses you, shooting his unconscious companion in the back, evidently killing him. That works for you, with no time to spare you launch yourself at him, grabbing his head from behind with your left arm. You roughly tilt it up, bringing your right arm over, slitting his throat wide open. He immediately falls to the floor, holding his opened throat as he gurgles, choking on his own blood.

When you look up again, the Hargreeves are racing down the bowling lanes, miraculously avoiding getting shot at, much to your help. Trying to give them a better chance at not getting holes punched into their sides, you lift up the side of the pool table with both of your hands. Lifting the whole thing up and off of the floor with ease, you then catapult it directly into the four masked assassins, severely injuring most of them. The loud gunfire around you slows a bit, taking the blessed opportunity before you, you race towards your friends in a blur. Sliding underneath the back of the alley like an action hero, and out into the other side.

[visenyatargaryn]

Once, she had been a wife, a mother... someone who had finally found their happily ever after. However, that all came crashing down once the bombs fell and her once beautiful life turned into ashes before her eyes. After being the only survivor from Vault 111, Evangeline made her way into what was now known as the Commonwealth with one mission in mind:

To find her son and get revenge on the bastard who murdered her husband.

With the ongoing search, Evangeline eventually found herself in one particular neighborhood where she would meet a peculiarly dressed ghoul who—unbeknownst to her, would become the one to drag her out of her ever-growing darkness and back into the light. However, will it be enough to find her son? To save him from the clutches of the Institute? Or will she forever lose the last thing that brought happiness to her?

CHAPTER ONE|| Welcome to Goodneighbor || G || 1575 words || ao3

After getting herself into trouble and barely surviving a trap set up by a band of raiders, Evangeline finds herself at the doors of Goodneighbor—a place known for its infamous reputation. However, instead of finding help... she instead finds herself in a sticky situation where one wrong word or movement could be her last.

The cold steel at her throat burned as the blade pressed harder against her skin. She felt a slight trickle of blood run down her neck from where it had nicked her.

Evangeline was pressed up against the wall of one of the older buildings that surrounded the area. Her attacker, a brute of a man who had cornered her when she entered through the gates—had taken advantage of her vulnerable state of being. Out of the corner of her eye, Evangeline saw where her shotgun now lay after he had tossed it aside, but not before butting her with the buttstock. She was sure her lip was busted as she could taste the slight trace of copper in her mouth from the impact.

“Now, I’m only gonna say this one more time,” the man growled as he held her up against the wall. “Either you hand over em’ 200 caps as I said, or things are gonna get much, much worse for ya.”

Evangeline stopped herself from laughing at such an absurd thing to say. How much worse could it possibly get for her? She was already living in a fucking nightmare. Her old life was destroyed, turned into ashes after the bombs fell. Everyone she loved and cared for was dead, all except her son Shaun—who had been taken from her. She was impossibly alone in a foreign world where everyone and everything wanted to kill her.

“Fuck you, asshole,” she snarled.

He leaned in close to her with a smile that made her skin crawl, so close that she could smell the foulness of his breath. “Heh. You outta be careful what you say, doll. You’re in no shape to fight, and maybe I’ll just drag you back in one of these here alleys and have my fun. Then I’ll take them caps once I’m done with ya.”

Disgusting pig. If she had not fucked up her leg or lost too much blood – she would have made him regret ever taking advantage of her in the first place. Instead, Evangeline could do nothing like some goddamn helpless damsel in distress because she could barely muster the strength to even put up a fight. She hated him, but more so, she hated herself. Evangeline hated herself for being so damn stupid. She hated herself for even getting into this mess. If she had not let her guard down—if only she had not played the hero. So many ifs… she realized, but it was all too late to think of what she could have changed and face what was currently happening.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a raspy voice yelled out—melting the man’s face into a scowl.

“Whoa, let me stop you right there,” the voice ordered. The blade at Evangeline’s throat released enough to allow herself to turn her head in the direction it came from. Her breath caught as she saw what manner of creature was approaching them.

At first glance, he reminded her of those old zombie films she used to watch as a child—with melted skin that made him look like a living corpse. Most people would cower away out of fear or even disgust for merely coming across a ghoul, but Evangeline refused to do the same. She refused to see them as monsters or freaks that the people of the Commonwealth had labeled them as. To her, ghouls weren’t the stuff of nightmares that kept you awake at night—they were human… well, a more radiated version, of course, but human nonetheless. Taking a closer look, she registered the rest of his appearance. He wore a large, tricorn hat paired with a long, red coat that had seen better years. Tied around his waist, she noted was ole’ glory herself. Evangeline couldn’t help but smile at this strangely dressed ghoul.

“How many fucking times must I remind you?” the ghoul asked, with a touch of irritation in his tone. “Someone steps through that gate the first time; they are a guest. You lay off that extortion bullshit!”

The man in question spat on the ground, giving the ghoul a murderous glare. Evangeline sensed that he had no love for the ghoul—who appeared to be the one in charge of this place. However, she also saw this as an opportunity to deal with her attacker, who was currently distracted and paid her no mind. All she needed was the perfect moment to make her move.

“What d’you care? She ain’t one of us!” he snapped back.

“Doesn’t matter, Finn. What does matter is that she’s a newcomer, and we don’t treat newcomers like this now, do we?” he questioned the man, without a change of tone, but merely repeating its primary emphasis from before. “I said, let her go.”

Finn sneered at the ghoul, looking not all too pleased with the order. At first, Evangeline thought he would refuse and slice her neck open right there on the spot. However, when she felt the blade leave her bare throat, Evangeline let out a breath of relief. It appeared that Lady Luck was on her side for once, it seemed.

“You’re getting soft, Hancock,” the man who had been called Finn, stated as he turned away from her. “You keep lettin’ these outsiders walk all over us; one day there’s gonna be a new mayor.”

Evangeline noticed that he now held the knife loosely in his hand. However, she knew there was only one chance, and if she messed up… she dared not think of what would happen if that would occur. Not wasting any more time, Evangeline grabbed the knife from Finn’s loose grip and thrust the blade into Finn’s neck. She watched as he staggered forward before turning back to face her—his eyes fuming with anger.

“Shit,” Evangeline swore to herself, realizing just how much she fucked up. Before she could react, he had his meaty hands wrapped around her throat, choking the life out of her. Evangeline made a weak attempt to free herself but failed miserably. Her vision began to blur as black spots started to appear—she was going to die, Evangeline realized, and there was no one left to mourn for her.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” he snarled. “You’re gonna fuckin’ pay for that, you goddamn—"

Suddenly, his grip around her neck faltered before collapsing onto the ground in front of her, where she then saw the handle of a knife protruding from the back of his head. Looking back at where ghoul stood, whose name was Hancock, she saw that he was the one that threw it—and ultimately saving her life. Without warning, Evangeline’s legs gave out from under her as a wave of relief coursed through her. However, to keep from falling, she supported her back against the wall, sliding down instead of landing on her ass.  

She wanted to cry—to scream but refused to let the weakness overcome her. It was no secret that Evangeline sometimes wished that she should have died along with everyone else in that vault. Instead, she had been the only survivor and was left to live through the hellish nightmare she was thrust into. The pain and misery that overwhelmed her nowadays were practically unbearable, and Evangeline just wanted it all to end—to be able to feel peace once more, if only for a moment.

Hancock stepped over the body and crouched next to her, frowning. “Easy there, sister, you’re safe now. You hear me?”

Evangeline opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. Safe. Was such a thing even possible? She didn’t know. Ever since she walked out of the vault, there was no such thing as safety. Every day she was either being shot at by raiders or being ambushed by molerats. There was never an end to all the fighting she had to endure on a daily basis. Evangeline looked over to where Finn—whose lifeless corpse now lay still on the cold, hard ground, and back over to the ghoul who had saved her life. If not for him, she would have met the same fate. The thought alone caused her to shiver.

“Here,” the ghoul said, as he took off his coat and wrapped it around her—which smelled slightly of cedarwood. Evangeline was taken back by such kindness, especially in these parts. Ever since she had come out of that vault all those weeks ago, nobody had treated her as such. It seemed that everyone was only out for themselves and cared nothing about those in need of a helping hand now and then.  

Wrapping the coat tighter around her, Evangeline had not realized how cold she was from the blood loss. To make matters worse, the pounding within her head had become agonizing, and the world seemed to spin around her. All of a sudden, Evangeline felt the sensation of being lifted up. Sure enough, the ghoul—Hancock, had her in his arms, gently but firmly holding onto her. As he carried her, she rested her head against his shoulder.

“Just relax, sister, I got ya,” Hancock said, reassuringly. While being carried, Evangeline closed her eyes as she felt the warmth radiate off of him. She knew it was crazy, but perhaps this is what safety felt like. Even if it was in the arms of a complete stranger—one who could have turned an eye when she needed help. He had saved her, though, she reminded herself, and that was something Evangeline would never forget.

“Thank you,” Evangeline murmured into his coat before being engulfed in complete darkness.