#AND RESOLVE DELIVERED HOLY SHIT

[pokeberry5]

i finished resolve and i love it sm ;-; i'm planning to go through and redraw some of my favorite moments, so i'll probably be posting these in batches. stay tuned

i can't believe we got crossdressing in an ace attorney game. i love that the entire court keeps talking about how handsome ryuutaro is

what would we do without susato.

[helianthus21]

the only good thing was that we saw hazel and agnes again, idc for anything else

hold on that finale was such a fail in so many ways idek where to start

[jewishdragon]

every time i re-watch FMAB i wanna SCREAM ABOUT IT WITH SOMEONE

i need to talk about the complexity of this show, how the heroes goals change as they gain information about the world, how they make HUGE mistakes and we the viewers learn that we made the mistake of thinking that the main characters were important, that this story was about them, when they are simply the vehicle to deliver the story of a war, a conspiracy, MULTIPLE tragedies including genocides. the show shifts halfway through to broaden the viewpoints, we get flashbacks from the genocide that MOST OF THE MAIN CHARACTERS PARTICIPATED IN (yes the fandom favorites), and its horrific. it's disgustingly realistic even in a world where people casually use magic powers. Can we talk abotu Riza? how she learned that the entire "civil war" was orchestrated by one person who wanted to consume god, and the main characters were like "so it wasnt your fault! it was the conspirators!" and Riza said "No, it doesnt matter who started the fighting, we soldiers still pulled those triggers"

there's SO MUCH more to say i have so many emotions and thoughts about this. About how even if shit was mostly going down in one country, other countries were involved. royals from other countries trying to steal taboo magic, conflicts along boarders that arent resolved, and that if somehow this one country didnt get its shit together its founder and secret leader would consume god and wouldnt stop until it consumed the world.

oh and how that monster who wanted to consume god was created? that history and that tragedy? holy shit i have SO MANY THOUGHTS i cannot say more.

i watched the 2003 FMA, in which the conflict was... smaller, between individuals. it was good but it wasn't as impactful, and it's ending soured it for me. (i did like the lore for creation of homunculi better in 2003 though! and I maintain that position)

[nowimjustastranger]

I have been binge-reading your tumblr all day, and AHHHH, dude I love the StCMO AU so much holy shit. I cannot get enough of it. I actually read a Rick and Morty fic somewhat similar to this? It only focuses on one perspective, though. High key recommend:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22024960

Also love love loveee your fics! I actually first subscribed to your AO3 back when you were first writing Supernatural fanfiction, and then I found you again when I got into Gravity Falls ❤️. The Supernatural to Gravity Falls pipeline is SO REAL and there are so many similarities between Dean vs Stan and Sam vs Ford that it haunts me. I have so many fic ideas just based on episodes of Supernatural 😂. HIWTHI is actually lightly inspired by s2e20.

Sorry, I'm ranting. I had a few questions related to StCMO:

1. What would StCMO!Ford do about a Stan and Ford stuck in a death time loop together? Somewhat similarly to Deja Vu by interlude (though it doesn't have to be), but if it wasn't resolved? I gotta know how he feels about the crossbow death 😭

2. WWS!FD if Bill is constantly going after Stan through Rico and the cartel and whoever else because Ford wanted to make amends with his brother before the portal was finished? Bill doesn't want the distraction, and all of Stan's enemies are easily manipulated into deals to kill Stan off? (an AU of mine i've been toying with)

3. Does he ever feel a little bit detached after going through so many dimensions of Stans and Fords? I feel like it would be easy to become desensitized to it and forget the original perspective he started with.

Holy shit hi! Lovely to see you in the bottomless hole that is the GF fandom with me lmao. And yeah, lots of parallels with respective sets of brothers! I will absolutely read your fic rec! It looks delicious.

Death Loop

Admittedly, Ford 419"3 would have some trouble getting into the time loop, but he'd find a way if it meant safely breaking it. The hardest part for Ford 419"3 would be seeing Stan die and having to wait for the loop to reset. Lots of bad memories being dredged up. Because not only is he traumatized by his time in Bill's clutches, but the missions that go wrong had also left lingering mental wounds. Ford would have to figure out how to keep Stan and his brother alive long enough for Ford to actually break the time loop, so he'd have his hands full to say the least.

Bill is a Bitch

Ford would be having none of that shit. He'd probably enlist Lee to act as a bodyguard and have Lee deliver Stan to his brother safely while Ford handled the threats at the source (ie: wiping out all the gangs that have a vendetta against Stan). After he finished his task or removing the vast majority of threats against Stan to make it harder for Bill to find a puppet, Ford 419"3 would meet Lee and Stan at his counterpart's shack, showing his counterpart the evidence that he and Lee had collected to prove that Bill was behind the attempts on Stan's life.

Same Shit, Different Day

Ford doesn't become desensitized, per say, but seeing so much bad shit does leave it's mark on him. Instead of becoming numb to it, he had become obsessed with the safety of his loved ones. He's mentally unwell in the sense that he's constantly on alert, no longer able to truly let his guard down. Even with Lee and the niblings, unfortunately. He's more like a feral animal than a man, viciously protecting those that he considers his until death. He has insomnia due to his anxiety and paranoia, only sleeping when his body literally shuts down on him. Lee and Fiddleford are working on coaxing him to sleep a little here and there before that happens, but it's slow-going.

[solarbird]

Hilarious.

I can’t be bothered to write anything new, so here’s a post from – jeez, barely over a month ago, that links a huge number of the previous articles I’ve written about this fetid shitball and his fascist propaganda and disinformation machine.

Apparently – despite his demands – he hasn’t been able to get Republican state attorneys-general to prosecute people and companies which do not give him money. In a general sense, he thinks boycotts should be illegal – well, at least, where he’s concerned, because of how special a boy he is.

Back in November, he went off extensively and in public about how not paying him money is censorship, that advertisers have a moral and/or ethical responsibility to give him money via advertisiing on X Twitter.

The main takeaway coverage at the time delivered was him telling advertisers to go fuck themselves, using almost exactly those words! But if you watch the whole interview, you get the greater message about how not giving him money is a crime and should be illegal.

It’s truly bizarre, and that’s not even including the bit about how all the copyright action against AI bots won’t matter because LLMs will become God AIs before any of the cases get resolved in court.

No, really. It’s an offhand comment and not pursued, but holy shit, it should’ve been.

Basically, the man is well beyond weird, and full-bore into a delusional fascist messiah complex. He’s been there for a long time, and in plain sight. Being on X / Twitter just helps feed it, as he turns it further and further up.

So do highlight the trainwreck, but do not help pay for it. Given how much money he’s throwing into this election and why he bought Twitter, from a functional standpoint, literally every tweet is an ad for MAGA and/or Trump, so I wouldn’t be doing any of that, either.

And for the gods’ sakes, don’t rely on “X” for information and organisation, particularly close to November. If it’s not obvious, he will yank it out from under you when you need it the most.

90 days remain.

[oatmealaddiction]

No but the thing about the Magic Show is that it's happening right in the middle of their fight about the Holy Water. Like Aziraphale telling Crowley how kind he is and being nothing but giddy with affection, and Crowley showing up to help him, supporting him the entire time even when the magic show is absolute shit, not supplying even a little sarcastic comment—it's like honeymoon behavior and they're in the middle of a fight that isn't going to resolve for another 20 years. Like at first it almost feels anachronistic, like Neil forgot, but he clearly didn't because he remembers to have Crowley be punished by hell the episode prior, which actually sets up the fight about the holy water.

So really what we're learning is that this is how shit they are at conflict management. Like the codependency is so bad that their reaction to a fight is to flash cold and then hot. They don't talk to each other for 80 years, and then meet up again and act like nothing is wrong and shower each other with affection until the conflict comes up again and they go cold. It's pretty clear when Aziraphale shows up to deliver the water in the 1960's that this is coming off another cold period, because SURPRISE that initial fight in 1862 wasn't ever actually resolved and even when Aziraphale hands over the water in 1967 it still isn't really resolved. It mirrors what's happening in Season 2 because it's clear they start the season in the middle of another fight, then they flash hot again while they're working together to help Gabriel, only for Gabriel and Beelzebub getting together to trigger the most explosive fight they've ever had, AND STILL they cannot figure out how to tell the other what they need to hear.

[narwhalandchill]

uhhh anyway. so like yesterday was my first time ever doing story day 1 and i have many Thoughts about the AQ. mostly positive unfortunately my major gripes do relate to the childe/narwhal situation which kinda dampens the overall experience more than any other part being underwhelming would given (gestures in general direction of self). like we all know the multitude of diseases i have on the subject 💀

dunno how much of a complete nonsense rambley writeup thisll be i think i might take some time to sort out my overall thoughts and write sth more coherent specifically on childe/narwhal stuff, maybe leave out some other aspects i have more pointed thoughts on as well so this wont get mega long but eh lets see. this just all kinds of thoughts i have for now And its a mess so Beware

anyway. firstly. as scarred as i am by melus and silver. Its also just. holy shit man theyre truly just straight up tapdancing on teppeis grave like THIS is how you write NPC deaths in an actually emotionally impactful way. dunyarzad was a massive glow up already in terms of NPC writing in general but she didnt die so. but like the way their characters and bond to both callas and navia is built up and how the writers actually managed to make them feel like such dynamic people even if their roles are ultimately quite straightforward made their fates just... genuinely heartbreaking like what the fuck 😭😭😭 AND THE WAY THEY STILL SAVED NAVIA FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE AND SAID THEIR FAREWELLS I JUST. I CANT. i just teared up thinking about it again

idk what could be said about navia that hasnt been said a gigabillion times before like. Wow. she is just. Truly the moment. like she fucking blindsided my ass in 4.0 bc i wasnt expecting anything like how dynamic and compelling and complex her arc and characterization has been like. everything about navia her resolve her grit her experiences and her bravery and stubbornness just feels so incredibly human and raw and she is just? a wonderful character i never foresaw falling in love with her this much like truly. and she delivered JUST as hard in 4.2 too like if it werent for navia being the conduit through which we first experience the devastation of poisson i dont think it wouldve ever hit as hard as it did. i just wanna comfort her shes already been thru so much yet i also admire her insistence to keep going and keep living like man 😭😭😭 give her a happy story quest hoyo idgaf if it gets called shallow or some bs she deserves a break!!!!!

i think some ppl are disappointed by arles relative lack of presence in fontaine overall and while i get that i can genuinely say that its been so fucking refreshing to have an AQ centering on a conflict thats not entirely or mostly fatui based. its not like the weight or intimidation factor of arlecchinos presence has been any lesser just bc shes been largely on the same side as us. like personally i just Really enjoyed seeing her characterization throughout. the way shes been just so reasonable thus far makes me extra excited for whenever she might actually snap (at least hopefully she will). like both childe and scara think shes fucking insane?????? but yea. i also really enjoy arles dynamic with the HoH kids too like. i do think she genuinely cares for them in a way but i highly doubt thats all there is to it. and thats really neat. goes for things like her help to spina di rosula and poisson too; theres definitely strings attached to that aid lmao. even if arle has no particularly malicious designs in mind, shes a harbinger. like cmon. and i really like that!!

i dont have like. that extensive thoughts abt what i call the . uhhh. this is mean but extended cast of act 5 JKJKDWJKDJKAJK like HoH gang, clorinde, sigewinne, wrio. tho i do very much appreciate that clorinde dodged the sara allegations for good like. it was looking a little bit unfortunate in 4.0. her role wasnt super major but i love her english VA and this kind of grounded sort of character she ultimately is. also sigewinne jumpscare during furinas trial i love her so much.

mona n nicoles thing was unfortunately mostly a whateverburger for me bc. im sorry im not that interested in hexenzirkel lmao i feel like such an outlier in any lore discussion circles bc im just not that hype about them (gold is an icon however) idk why. it was neat, it happened, didnt bring any mega hype. what i liked the most was honestly just the talk with mona about destiny and fighting against it and all. she really felt like a friend trying to help us navigate our thoughts on this insane horrible situation going on!!

in terms of plot things uhhh i went in mostly blind? as to the actual events. i had spoiled myself a bit on some specific aspects (my own fault) but ultimately most had no effect on how much i enjoyed everything. also lowering my expectations on the. ahem. worries i had abt childe that unfortunately came true so i was less let down on the spot wjjkajkwdjkwd. my biggest issue was actually that i had to progress lyneys story quest TWO FUCKING TIMES by a pretty notable amount bc it was blocking locations. and that dumbass office drama world quest like i was morbing.

a particular standout moment (beyond the Obvious. i need not name it THE LAUGH THE FUCKING THUMBS DOWN also singed FL can kinda lowkey 100% absolutely get it) for me was when i was so invested in our conversation with furina in poisson and in the magic box that i actually fucking forgor about the whole trap scheme thing even existing and then the box fell open and i was like WAIT WHAT THE FUCK and started laughing for like a solid 5 minutes i was caught so off guard. what an incredible moment. bc like. when the thing we were hiding in w furina started shaking i was just hell yeah narwhal modcheck? narwhal modcheck? bc obviously i would. and didnt question for a second that it could be something else. like the trap we were LITERALLY plotting to set up just a bit earlier it actually killed me. altho the fact that one of the cursed lyney quest situations were in between the scheming scene and the poisson segment prolly had to do with it. anyway it was just really funny

i think this post is gonna take me 287382 years to finish if im gonna go into the like furina character arc situation and her trial and focalors and all that shit super in depth (+ narwhal/skirk things) but like. BELIEVE me i fucking loved it so much like its so awful and painful and horrible and just. best written archon easily. zhongli n venti i think r very well written but theyre p static characters bc oldies so its a bit different. raiden is. inazuma moment no comment needed. nahida is good but tbh i never truly reconciled with the way rukkha getting irminsuled sorta just erased the central conflict behind her inferiority complex so it somewhat ruined her character arc for me even if it did make me cry and i do love her chara overall. but furina i think they executed the whole setup and reveals and everything so incredibly well its insane like. god. 500 years........ and like. the way furinas arc just flops everything uve known about her and the interactions uve had with her sideways and turns it upside down realizing the predicament shes been in and what shes been grappling with. its just incredible man. harrowing but incredible like they truly delivered on that one. like that portion of the finale was just really well done

anyway not all thoughts i have by any means but whatever. ive just been Thinking. overall had a great time with the AQ n cutscenes in particular are only getting better and better, i thiiiiink this one tops sumeru for me? but like its sorta unfair bc i was never a scara stan whereas. even a narratively mishandled narwhal is a fucking world-devouring narwhal. unfair advantage. childe being there at all even if i have my gripes is too much points in favor KJWJKWJKDWDJKJK. theres things that make me really hopeful for the future writing but also things that concern me. so its an interesting situation rn. but im glad it went as ambitious as it did even if my fave got arguably sidelined the most. just hoping they actually do sth more with childe sooner than later if they want to leave all those loose ends unaddressed in 4.2. interlude rights PLEASE

[synthcrow]

now that I've played kh3 here's a short summary on my feelings of each of the games

kh1: janky little game, but really heartfelt and has a really inventive combat system for its time. I remember it fondly for its simple but earnest narrative, but it has plenty of rough edges

re:chain of memories: ROUGH EDGES AHOY. the combat system utterly jokerified me even though it was initially interesting. I think it may have been better on the gba. writing is an improvement on the first game I think, almost utena-esque stuff going on here

kh2: ouuggh I love this one so much. combat is extremely polished, I like that you go to each world twice (which honestly reinforces some of the themes the first game was going for, friendship transcending distance and all, also makes it better paced). story has some proper gut punches but also some really strange decisions, still got me quite emotional at the end.

kh358/2: a really compelling tragedy, and the repetitive gameplay reinforces the mundaneity of the life in the org. sadly, playing it several hours each day burned me out on it and I ended up watching the hd cutscenes instead. definitely meant to be played like a mission or two each day during commutes. best damn final boss music.

birth by sleep: manages to make an interesting new take on the kh2 formula, and the story told through three protagonists is damn excellent. most of the disney worlds are better than average, although I fucking despise neverland holy shit

kh3d: this one made me lose my sanity. it succeeds in having a dream-logic style story and does some story twists, both good and bad (some people claim them to be retcons and mostly no??? villains lie??? a lot of it was foreshadowed, too???). takes the birth by sleep combat and introduces pokemon and parkour, making it so much more convoluted I had no idea what was happening a lot of the time. the rooms were way too big, to accommodate flowmotion for sure but if you die in them you have start all over. bizarre decisions were made. DROP TO YOUR BOYFRIEND, NOW!!!!!!

The Gatcha Games: watched compilations on youtube. does some interesting things with the backstory of the setting but the serialised release of the story makes it really drag on when watched in one sitting.

0.2: my girlfriends made sure I remember shirtless mickey and they sure did deliver on that. the gameplay is an excellent mix of all the games up to this point, love to see them iterating on things for once. the cosmetic options were a really bizarre choice tonally for this game specifically.

kh3: the single most video game put into a video game. there's so much going on in all fronts. the pixar worlds are great, the disney worlds are mostly boring retellings of the originals. the worlds are all incredibly long and have some gimmick to them, it feels like a billion games taped together. combat is the same as 0.2, good all around. since the disney worlds weren't allowed to advance the main story, the finale goes at a breakneck speed and resolves so many story arcs in a blink of an eye. the ending was pretty underwhelming tbh, no one turned into a boat this time.

[excusemebutiquit]

Okay okay okay okay update GREAT movie!!! That fight with Doc Ock!!!! Was so awesome!!! I wanna watch it like, 1000 times. I might go do that right now. And I am Obsessed with how Tobey Maguire plays Peter Parker. I love the difference between him and spiderman even though they’re the same character and I love how incredibly awkward he is all the time. Great movie. I have heard that people don’t like the next one as much but like. I really wanna watch it now.

Watching Spider-Man 2 for the first time and Alfred Molina does not disappoint!!! Also someone give Peter a support system PLEASE!!!

[bengiyo]

180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us Ep 8 (Finale) Stray Thoughts

We left on a very dramatic note. Here's hoping that this is a show I can recommend to the folks who waited.

Ah, Wang is gone. I can see how this will inspire flashbacks to Siam's last night.

Confirmation that Mol loved Siam. I feel like I'm always going to struggle with her. She should be scared for her son, but I don't think Inthawut is to blame for most of her troubles.

Interesting that the few times we see Mol and In share the frame is when it's about fearing for Wang's death, particularly as it mirrors Siam's.

Holy shit the scorn on her face when she said In disgusts her was palpable. I physically recoiled.

It's interesting how this show doesn't often rely on A/B shots, but they come up the most with Mol, because she's so often in opposition to others.

Mam is playing Mol's frantic behaviors perfectly. She and Pond are playing this breakdown together perfectly. I just want to be clear here that none of my frustrations with Mol should be taken as negative criticism of Mam Kathaleeya. She is absolutely incredible, and is delivering one of the most memorable performances I've had from Thailand in a while.

The way Wang looks back at his mom is so incredible. This is the moment I think Wang grows up a little bit and recognizes that you start taking care of your parents a little bit.

Ah, I see In is back in his self-imposed cage. Welcome back, architectural bars.

Seeing Wang talk about understanding his dad on the night he died scares me a bit, because my family often says I remind them of an ancestor who succumbed to his own demons and died.

Ah, but the way Wang always intentionally sidesteps these bars gets me every time.

Wang. Poor Wang. He's so right that sitting around and waiting still leads to death. I have sat back like In, making excuses for why I won't open myself up to others and it's all just fear and shame. It hurts to stay lonely for so long.

Omg Wang crosses the window line. We can't turn back now. In is definitely going to strike and push Wang away. There's not enough bravery in him, I don't think.

These two are also now in opposition, and the editing has to reflect that.

When In raised his crutch to strike Wang, I think I have to accept that there is definitely no triumphant end to this story. He can't face Wang's reality. He can't accept his passion. He can only demand he smother it. This hurts, because I've been here in other ways, too.

I will always appreciate Wang for saying the quiet part aloud. In has done a disservice to the people he loves by pushing them away and refusing to face them.

It's so sad seeing someone say I love you and also goodbye simulataneously.

It's the next morning and everyone is back to the doublespeak. I hate it here.

Oh no. This is the first time Wang has intentionally moved to place the bars between him and In. It's over. He's leaving In to his cage.

Oh gay boys and their moms. It's a very specific bond.

Yes, Wang, you've got time on your side.

Mm, I do like giving the globe to In. Wang has resolved his matters around his dad and no longer needs to carry it. In, however, has not.

Oh, Inthawut, please give him this hug.

I need a translated version of this song to implode over later.

This is a melancholy ending, but I don't hate it.

I do appreciate the final messages to the viewer.

Final Verdict: 9, Recommend for Queer Cinema Fans. I know a lot of folks are going to be disappointed in this ending, but I can appreciate that the characterizations held true for the entire duration. It is a melancholy message to receive from this show, but I can accept queer cinema asking us to consider our place in things even as they don't work out the way we hoped. I will continue to think about this show for many years, and I will hopefully post more thoughts in the future.

For now, I will say that it is probably good to ache after this show. This show doesn't kill any gays during the runtime, but it does ask us what do with the pain and grief many of us have carried.

[veilder]

"I thought you left" "Nope, just making pancakes" - Convin

Okay, so, I love this prompt and I promised I'd try to write it so... I actually did this last week at like 2 am and have been too busy to edit it until now. But I'm kinda sick of trying to puzzle it out so just take it please, omg.

(Prompt from this post if anyone's curious.)

Stay

The sun was already high in the sky when Gavin finally blinked awake. He could tell because there was one fuckin sliver of window he could never manage to cover with the blackout curtains hanging up in his bedroom and the goddamn sun was shining right in his fuckin eyes, Jesus Christ! With a groan, he rolled over, squeezing his eyes shut in a futile attempt to go back to sleep. But even that small burst of cognizance had its consequences. Gavin could feel the awareness creeping in fast, God fuckin dammit. Was a little shut-eye too much to ask for? But there was something... Something niggling at the back of his mind. It itched at instincts well-honed by over a decade on the force and not even his most earnest desire to return to oblivion could keep it at bay. Restlessly, Gavin huffed out a disgruntled sigh as he kicked at the covers, frustrated despite himself at being roused after the night he’d had— Like a shock passing through his body, Gavin’s eyes snapped open, memories of the previous evening flashing through is mind. But just as readily, a heaviness settling deep in his heart as he took in the other side of the bed. The sheets were mussed and the pillow indented, a clear sign of its former occupant. Evidence as plain as day told Gavin that last night hadn’t been some delusion or dream. And yet… He reached out a hand, an involuntary, desperate motion, tracing the outline where his partner had lain. Where Connor had lain. But just as he’d feared, the sheets were cold. They matched the ice filling his heart. Slowly shuffling upright, Gavin leaned back against the headboard as memories of the previous day filled his waking mind. Flashes of the case he and Connor had worked together rushed by in a flurry. The tip-off for the perp they’d been tracking for weeks and the reckless chase that followed. The abandoned warehouse. The shootout. Vivid Thirium across dirty concrete. Connor had taken a bullet for him. Gavin remembered staring up into those brown eyes, watching as a splatter of blue burst from his chest. "I'm fine," Connor had said, "the bullet didn't nick anything important." And even though the android had gotten right back up and proceeded to almost single-handedly take down the rest of the hostiles attacking them, it was still a moment Gavin knew would haunt him for a long-ass time. Shit was enough to give him nightmares. It did give him nightmares, in fact. Which is how the two of them had ended up back here. In Gavin's apartment. Together. Because after that little fiasco, after the gang had been arrested and the hostages recovered and both he and Connor had been checked over by a medic and technician respectively, it still left the job far from complete. Needless to say, Gavin had eventually nodded off at his desk after a long night of interrogation and paperwork, the rushes of adrenaline and fear more than even his beloved coffee could contend with. He only meant to rest his eyes for a moment. Just a moment and then he'd finish up. But when he awoke some indeterminate time later, it was to his own voice screaming, Connor's name upon his lips, Connor's blue blood scattered across the darkest corners of his mind, Connor's hand upon his shoulder jostling him awake. The android’s LED was flashing a violent red as he stared Gavin down, his brown eyes wide with worry. Gavin couldn't help but cling to him, something twisting, clenching in his heart and demanding he hold on tightly. From there, things had passed in a blur, though he remembered Fowler's imposing figure ordering the both of them to take the next few days off. Too tired and distressed to argue, Gavin agreed immediately, only too glad to get the fuck out of there and go home. And Connor? Connor insisted he drive Gavin home. Connor insisted he make sure Gavin got to his door. Connor insisted that he get Gavin to his bed. And Gavin, still clinging to the android with every last bit of his flagging strength, let him. Over and over he let the android steer him along, trusting a partner fully for the first time in... For the first time

in far too long. And when Gavin had finally settled, comfortable yet shivering in his too-large bed, he took a moment to insist right back. "Stay," he'd said. One word. One plea. A lifetime of wanting to not be alone wrapped up in a single syllable. A few short weeks of shifting worldviews and growing affections cradled in four letters. A wealth of experience in loss stealthily couched within a breath. Gavin insisted. And Connor stayed. Or, at least Gavin thought he had. Because here and now, in the stupidly bright light of day, he was alone again. Like always. He didn't know why he'd expected otherwise. He really should've known better. After all, why would Connor want to hang around here? Especially after his fuckin embarrassing little act last night, fuck. He probably had loads of things to do. Important... android things... People to meet. Places to be. He wouldn't waste his entire day sitting around in Gavin's shitty apartment while he slept like a log. How fuckin stupid would that be? It didn't mean anything. Gavin told himself this over and over again as he shifted, swinging his legs out from under the covers and onto the floor. Just because they could be considered friends now didn't mean Connor had to drop everything for him. Just because he'd begging him to stay didn't mean Connor owed him anything. He'd probably felt uncomfortable as hell last night, what with Gavin whining and bitching at him like a fuckin child. Probably said what he could to mollify him before getting the hell out of Dodge. Gavin couldn't even blame him for that. Fuck, Connor'd just had emergency maintenance done! Because of Gavin! Like hell he'd want some handsy human all over him for ten straight hours, Jesus Christ. It didn't mean anything. Even if he wished it did. His stomach picked that moment to rumble, thankfully interrupting his little pity-party. Thank fuck. It was too early in the morning (or afternoon technically) to be crying over stupid shit. He was probably just hungry. Yeah, that's it. He's all fuckin emotional cause he hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours. It didn't matter that Connor fucked off ASAP, Gavin could get some waffles delivered. Waffles never fuckin betrayed him. He could trust waffles. With newfound resolve, Gavin stood, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand before scrolling through his food delivery aps to see if he could get waffles from anywhere at two in the fuckin afternoon. With heavy tread he stepped out into the hallway, mouth already watering at the prospect and stomach rumbling again in agreement. Fuck, he could almost smell them already. Wait. No, he can smell them? What the fuck?! Before Gavin could do anything more but stand there in his pajamas, wide-eyed and mystified, a figure stepped into view. Instinctively, Gavin's heart raced, adrenaline flooding his veins as the threat of a home invader cycled through his brain. In that fraction of a second, he was prepared to dive into an all-out brawl with the bastard. He was not in the mood for this shit! But then said bastard's lips quirked into a dazzling grin and a brown-eyed gaze sent Gavin reeling in disbelief. While his brain was preoccupied with keeping his suddenly-weak legs standing, his idiot mouth opened up on it's own: "I thought you left,” he said, choking on his disbelief. Connor (because of course it was Connor) only quirked his head to the side in that cute way he does, looking for all the world like the dogs he so adored. His LED flashed a single, swirling yellow before settling back to blue and he said, "No, I was just making pancakes. I thought perhaps you might be hungry." A strange hesitance entered his voice, some dour note falling across his features. "Did you want me to leave?" "No!" Gavin blurted out in a moronic, high-pitched squeak because again, he was nothing if not an idiot. (And one destined to embarrass himself at every possible moment at that.) Clearing his throat, he tried again. "I mean, you can do whatever you want. Doesn’t matter to me." (He's lying through his teeth. It obviously did matter to him. It

mattered a huge fuckin deal!) Connor blinked at him, the only sign of the awkward atmosphere between them the flashing colors at his temple. "Your words run contrary to both your body language and your involuntary actions," he said, "And they are a direct counterpoint to your request last night." Gavin fidgeted, knowing the damn android was right but never in a million years wanting to admit it. "Stop analyzing me, dipshit, it's too early for this." Finally, Connor's face relaxes a bit, a smile smile stealing across his lips. "It is two thirty-three in the afternoon, Gavin. Far from early." "Oh, can it, Poindexter! You know what I mean!" With a huff, Gavin moves forward, sidling past his annoying house guest. "What was that about pancakes?" Connor beams at him as the two of them enter the kitchen. "Ah yes. I determined that you would be hungry after going so long without food. I managed to make due with your atrocious grocery selection and have prioritized calories over nutrition for the time being. But just this once.” While Connor seemed dead set on critiquing the apparently-lackluster pantry he’d been forced to bravely overcome, Gavin only had eyes for the heaping pile of flapjacks sitting at his breakfast nook, fluffy and golden brown and still steaming. Fresh off the griddle, holy shit. How did he…? Despite his hunger, Gavin looked over at Connor questioningly. It was almost like the android could read his mind (which was a scary fucking thought) as he answered his unspoken query immediately: "I calculated your sleep cycle based off the Circadian rhythms I observed during your convalescence. I'm glad I timed it right. I wanted you to enjoy your breakfast." "It's past 2 pm," Gavin retorted with a smirk, "can't be breakfast now, hotshot." Connor's answering smile made Gavin want to melt into a puddle and he quickly turned away, staring at said breakfast with a helpless desperation. "Indeed," the android said, heedless of his partner's distress. "Regardless of the time of day, I wanted you to enjoy your meal, nonetheless." And something more vulnerable finally stole into his voice then, the merest shadow of his quiet pleas from the night before. "I thought, perhaps, you might consider them an offering." Gavin tore his gaze away from his not-breakfast then, looking up at his partner with enough confusion to drive out all other complicated emotions. "What offering? What the fuck are you talking about, tincan?" And now Connor was the one to look away. "It's just that..." He drew in a deep breath (though Gavin knew it was only him mimicking humans. Fucker didn't actually need to breathe) and continued, "yesterday... Yesterday frightened me. When I saw that gunman aiming at you, I—" He clenched his eyes shut, LED flashing a dangerous red. "In that moment, I preconstructed a multitude of outcomes, many of them where you did not survive. In which that bullet found its mark. And the thought of it, Gavin!" he wails. "I couldn't—! The thought was unbearable! And so I calculated the best result. And I determined my course of action. And you lived. You lived. And I thought that would be the end of it. But..." Finally, Connor looked up, his eyes meeting Gavin's head-on once more. "It was like a glitch. The preconstruction, it— It kept resurfacing again and again and again, every time you were out of my sight. And I... I disliked the feeling immensely. I think perhaps I hated it, even. And so I did my best to linger. I didn't want to leave you. Even though I knew you were safe, I still... It was so irrational but I still wanted to verify that you were okay. I still do." Before them the pancakes were growing cold, but neither paid them any mind. Connor looked away again, eyes shut. "I thought that, perhaps you had figured this much out last night. Which is why you asked me to stay. Because we are friends now and that's what friends do. But I worried that I may have... forced the issue... in my desperation. And I-I... I wanted to do something for you in return for your generosity." Looking down at the cooling

breakfast, Connor's face fell further. "I know it's not much but I thought at least—" Gavin had heard enough. "Okay, okay, okay, hold the fuck up, dumbass!" He stood, breakfast forgotten, and approached the shocked android with a fierce determination. Jabbing a finger directly into Connor's chest, he stated as sternly as he could, "You don't owe me a goddamn thing! For fuck's sake, Connor! You fuckin saved my goddamn life yesterday! You took a fuckin bullet for me! And even after that, you still fuckin stayed with me and made sure I got home safe!" A growl rumbled through his chest as Gavin poked Connor again. "I was having a fuckin nightmare about you dying! When you woke me up in the precinct! Did you know that?!" Connor shook his head but Gavin only poked him a third time, this time with much less force. He left his hand there, palm splayed across where his heart would be were he human. "That shit kept replaying for me, too. Over and over again. So I get it. I get wanting to 'verify.' I was doing the same thing. That's why I asked you to stay. Because I fuckin—! I wanted you here, okay?! Because the idea that you were hurt or injured or fuckin dead had me panicking!" He brought his other arm up now, slinging it around Connor's broad shoulders in a half-embrace, and leaned in, burying his face in the android's neck. "That shit's unbearable to me, too, tincan. Thinking of this fuckin trash heap of a world without you in it is—" He sucked in a breath. "Can't stand the thought." They stood there for what felt like an eternity (though it was probably only a few seconds) before slowly—tentatively—Connor brought his own arms up to squeeze around Gavin. He held him with a brittle tenderness, his touch light and careful as if he was afraid Gavin might break. And fuck, maybe he would. Maybe Connor could shatter him into a hundred-thousand little pieces. But shit, he'd take it. Because Gavin would never have been in this situation in the first place if Connor hadn't broken right through his walls first, scattering him and leaving him adrift in a strange, new world. And when he’d managed to build himself back up, it was into something—someone—stronger. Someone who could look at the world and see progress instead of oppression, opportunity instead of limitations, people instead of just machines. Connor had shattered his body once before down in the archives. He'd shattered his mind too over these last few months. It’d only make sense for him to shatter his heart as well. But he didn't. He wouldn't. And as Connor held him like a thing to be cherished, Gavin felt again that perhaps he'd been right last night. Perhaps this was a partner he could trust. A partner who could trust him, too. And perhaps he would— "Stay."

_____________

Bonus:

Connor: "Okay, but only if you eat your pancakes. I didn't download an entire cooking catalogue for you to let them go to waste, Gavin." Gavin: "Fuckin bite me, we're having a moment here." Connor: "Is your stomach rumbling part of that moment?" Gavin: "God fucking dammit, I fuckin hate you." Connor: ^_^ "False!" Gavin: "Fuck!"

And they lived happily ever after. ♥

[semischarmed]

Cocktease

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes...” mused a deceased Harland as he eyed a future acquisition.

The specter licked it’s lips in greedy anticipation, taking note of the sun-glazed man in front of him building a substantial fort in the sand.

Beautiful curves baked in golden sunset outlined the man’s every muscle. Harland gawked as he followed every bend and bump of the man, committing his form to memory. He continued to hover his intangible mass near his future skin. The man’s hair was jet-black, and gently spiked from ocean water. The man’s muscles moved expertly beneath his skin, revealing their strength. This was a body sculpted through years of work, hard-earned and built for power. Unable to control himself further, Harland began to caress the man’s body from behind, causing him to jolt in a shiver.

“You alright there, Marco?” A small petite woman waved from afar.

“Y-yeah, just a breeze.. Sorry for the scare Val!” He shouted back, reassuringly as he shook off the odd sensations.

This only prompted Harland to continue further, deeper. Harland was as ruthless of a businessman as he was effective. In his day he was never one to compromise. He loved a good, dirty fight. He relished in the struggle. A vessel of this much resistance was made for him. This time around, he dug his spectral fingers into Marco’s golden arms, causing a slight ripple in its muscled flesh. He watched in glee as he traced the outline of those forearms, causing the fine hairs he dragged his intangible hand through to glow briefly and settle white. Property of Harland.

Marco meanwhile went from small jolts to a slight convulsion, as he felt something inherently wrong penetrate him. There was something otherworldly to the sensation he had just felt. Moments later a stream of vile, negative emotions flooded him, causing him to laugh uncontrollably. 

Marco knew something was wrong. These were not the bright, sunny laughter he normally gave off. They were cruel, callous laughs which sent chills down his spine. He had no idea his body could even make these sounds. He glanced at his biceps and recoiled in shock as he viewed stray muscles writhing and moving on their own. Marco felt an enhanced sensation in his arms, like an increased awareness in his control of them yet by that very same sensation was an unnatural numbness to them. By all accounts, they were his arms but something was off. These appendages attached to him could hardly qualify as his arms. There was something not-Marco to them that his brain couldn’t quite resolve. Every movement he felt was unnatural, like he had to actively focus on moving every single muscle just to get his arms to move the way he desired.

Marco began to worry in his head, as more and more of his body began to follow in the same feeling. He ran through the day’s events, trying in vain to discern what could have caused these sensations. Then, his legs buckled and he collapsed into the very fort he had built earlier. 

In sweat and sand, in struggle and sun, Marco began to convulse on the ground. His desperation unseen by others, shielded by the pile he excavated to make the fort.

He thrashed and shook vigorously, as more unfamiliar sensations flooded him.

The feeling was moving throughout him. It was unmistakably living. And it was drawing closer to his head. 

A stream of drool left Marco’s mouth, as his shaking quickened. Veins bulged in his face and throughout his body as seconds later, his eyes began to roll back.

“F-Fuck!!” He shouted. 

“Mmmm yes, ‘Fuck’ indeed��� an elderly voice inside him spoke.

“What the-“

“Pleasure to finally meet you... I’m Harland”

——

Marco grasped his head in pain. “W-what the fuck do you want?! 

“The answer to that question should be quite obvious.” Marco’s own lips spoke this time. His pained expression loosened and all visible struggle drained from it, as Harland commandeered Marco’s pretty face as his own. A hand still half-controlled by Marco shook in place until it eventually relented and caressed his face in rough unnatural motions. “I want this”. 

“GET OUT” Marco shouted in protest. His body shook violently in one swift motion before settling.

In a brief instance, Marco again found full control of his body. He let out one sigh of relief before passing out. 

——

Stirred awake by the sound of gently rolling waves and the vibration in his pocket, Marco awoke from a nap that had gone for far too long.

He viewed his phone, taking note of the hours lost in slumber. A new text from Val. 

“Today was fun, had a client booked. Was gonna wake you up but you looked way too cute like that. Let’s do this again sometime. Maybe no giant sandcastles next time ;)”

He laughed gently as he spoke to himself “Damn, quarantine has really done a number on your stamina, eh Marco?”. He continued to slowly get up from the hole he had created himself- stopping every few moments as if to anticipate another fight for his body, despite writing off the entire event as a dream. “Must have dozed off or something.” He kept repeating rationalizations to himself, chalking the whole thing up to an illusion born of fatigue. Yet somehow deep down, he knew it was all too real. Something foreign, something unnatural was still there with him. Still Inside. 

All reservations aside, nothing out of the ordinary seemed to have occurred since waking up and Marco began to even slightly believe his own little lie.

“Of course it was just a dream”.

As soon as Marco began to truly relax himself, his body shook into rigid, unnatural poses, defiantly showing its owner his error.

He attempted to get his bearings, grasping at whatever he could, only to catch loose sand with his arms. In the midst of Marco’s writhing, a toothy sneer pulled itself from his lips.

Harland spoke using Marco as his mouthpiece. “You didn’t seriously think I would just leave all of this?”

Marco’s own struggling hands began to grope and fondle his body.

“Don’t worry, having me inside will a whale of a time- you’ll see” he spoke, trailing of in a moan as his fingers circled sensually around his nipples. “Being my new body will make you successful beyond your wildest dreams”

Marco felt an odd warmth build inside him. 

“Get the hell out of me!” He shouted in desperation. 

In that moment, he was hit with a tremor of earthshattering pleasure- burst from deep within his abs, pulsing and delivering into the rest him. His arms splayed out, his hips swung into unnatural angles, as he was forced to ride the wave. In the aftershocks from the initial burst, his limbs couldn’t help but twitch slightly in unprompted delight. Marco had never felt anything like that before. His body couldn’t help but leak a little precum in anticipation. 

“Some propriety is called for, young man. At least try to hide it.”

Embarrassed by the small stain that now appeared on his underwear, Marco began to shout back. 

“Shut u-sh-shit… oh shit… holy shit holy shit” attention was immediately drawn to the second tremor inside himself. Once the second wave hit, he could only manage to barely contain an unprompted moan in his throat. 

Marco tried to readjust himself, to acquaint himself with the pleasurable feelings and fight Harland’s onslaught on his senses. Instead, the pulses were getting quicker, stronger.

His abs were in pain, body sore, veins engorged. Muscles strained from their fleshy confine as they involuntarily contracted and relaxed in rapid succession from the increasing frequency of the pulses.

Marco laid in the ground shaking, riled up in pent up fury and ecstasy, expecting sweet, sweet release- only to be met with disappointment as his body, the very body he worked so hard to sculpt, betrayed its master. There would be no respite from the onslaught of pressure inside him. In fevered, labored breaths he cried out to his tormentor. “J-Just do it…. ah ah a-Holy shit. Take me. FUCK. We’re so close… please”.

Marco’s head hung back while his mouth contorted into a pained expression. The corners of his mouth twitched in place as the Harland new face took on a dark, lecherous expression.

“No, you were made to please me! You’re not getting a drop of this!” In that instance, something inside Marco’s body clicked into place.

This was it, Harland could see himself begin to manifest through his newly-acquired Marco-template. Marco’s eyes took on an evil, soulless demeanor. His hair began to flush white before settling into a dark gray color between Marco’s and Harland’s. All along his body, similar changes had occurred, cementing this new flesh as not-quite Marco and not-quite Harland. 

Of course, the mind was a vastly different matter. Marco was no more- his body only the template from which Harland had fashioned his new corporeal form. Harland devoured his mind, connecting the new body to its sole owner.

Marco was no more- for he was now fully Harland incarnate. Lewd fingers began to explore the body they were attached to, tracing over Marco’s biceps, his shoulders, and his thick neck. His fingers continued to drag themselves among raw other crevices in his body, before gliding down his abs, down the treasure trail and landing gently around his cock. Harland scooped the bit of precum still on Marco’s dick from earlier.

The newly-minted man let out a smug, venomous smile, as he sucked his new fingers clean. 

“Quite a delicious partnership”.

…

Though his mind no longer existed, Marco’s body was still pent up in lust and pressure, still attempting to shake and still yearning for that sweet release. With Harland in command, it was subjugated to stillness. Marco’s body continued with build in near-orgasmic heat and pleasure, further amplified by Harland’s mental fortitude. 

But even Harland himself could not deprive this new virile body for too long. His hand went back in and quickly grabbed his engorged cock.

With closed eyes, he gave it a light, sensual tug, nodding in approval as he let out a short moan.

“We’re at the home stretch, bud”.

Another tug. This time, with a slight roughness. There was no hesitation to it- this was now his body after all, he knew how to please it best. 

“You-this flesh was built for me, you just didn’t know it….and as for myself, I was built to control this to rule you… sorry I took so long to get home. You must have been so lonely building up all that muscle, sculpting all this without me inside to wear it” Harland stated as his free hand began to caress random parts of his body. The tugs began to quicken and his eyes fluttered in sheer delight.

“One final piece…” he moaned

…

In a quick jolt, Harland stopped dead in his tracks. Cum rapidly pooled over his hand, but he paid no mind to it.

He muttered but one word to cut the silence.

“Incompatible.”

In a flurry of feathers and a burst of red light, the two men finally realized their true form:

April Fools!

---

Note: Not actually a huge fan of the fried chicken company in question.

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #26: Cracked: Katsuki Bakugou

Bakugou’s a controlling bastard. But every now and then, something slips.

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged-up characters, bratty sub!Bakugou, soft domme!reader, bondage, overstimulation, begging, cum play, dry orgasms

Notes: We are finally caught up! This may be the same reader and the same Bakugou as yesterday’s fic. So... let that mean what it will. 👀 Navigating Bakugou as a sub is definitely interesting, but I like to think that, if he can be vulnerable for you, he can be a switch for you, too. 

EDIT: Forgot to add! Today’s prompt was “Overstimulation.” But that will become very obvious to you imminently. 

Kinktober Masterlist

Bakugou’s a controlling bastard. But every now and then, something slips.

Some nights, he comes home with the weight of the world on his shoulders. Hero work is high-pressure. Life-or-death, always. As a kid, it was all about the glory for him. But now, it’s been brought abruptly to Bakugou’s attention that there’s no saving everybody.

When the pressure of control sends cracks spidering through the veneer of his confidence, he has you to fall back on. You can assume control. You can take care of him. For the world, he’s strong. Always.

Sometimes, here, you get to be the strong one.

Tonight, he’s been quiet and fitful- needy, even if he isn’t very good at showing it. He gets temperamental when you draw too far from him. So, after dinner, you get the handcuffs. And to your immense delight, he relents.

It’s better when he’s ready to admit that he needs it. It means he’s going to let you help him, without having to bust through his iron-clad walls first.

By the time his resolve breaks, you’ve got him cuffed soundly to your bed. You’re perched in his lap, riding his cock slow and smooth. He’s drawing into himself, so you’re testing his patience. It’s one of the easiest ways to find out what he really wants. Katsuki is transparent, when his patience wears thin.

“That’s it,” you praise, even if he’s not ready to give you what you want. “Good boy. You’re such a good boy for me, Katsuki, letting me give it to you slow like this.”

His jaw ticks. His eyes crackle like bright, hot flame as he glares up at you. Every so often leading up to this moment, he’s let out a little grunt of sensation, but the look he gives you now implies that you’ve made an especially low blow.

“So patient,” you croon, giving a deep, low scoop of your hips against his. He groans through clenched teeth with hard lines of muscle standing out in his shoulders as he strains against the cuffs. “Waiting so well for me like this, Katsuki. My perfect, patient-“

He snaps.

Planting his unbound feet on the mattress, Bakugou gives a demanding roar and thrusts his hips violently against yours. It’s awkward and fumbling with nothing to brace against, but he can’t hold out any longer.

“Just- fucking- get it- over- with-“ he snarls between brutal pumps of his hips. Above him, you’re doing your best to fight the pleasure. You grab his hips and pin them down hard, pulling yourself abruptly off of him and watching as he growls and squirms.

“Tell me what you want,” you practically bark. Katsuki’s face is scarlet.

“Shut up,” he snaps back. “I said it already.”

“No. Tell me all of it.”

“God dammit. Just fucking give it to me.”

“What? Give you what?”

“Too much!” Bakugou blurts the words and then immediately shrinks into the mattress, sullen and embarrassed, “I want… too much again. Okay?”

“Baby,” you purr, softening immediately. He’s struggled through his own insecurities and given you what you asked for. Now, it’s time to reward him. You lean down and push a tender kiss against his damp forehead, sliding a palm up and down his heaving chest.

“You want me to overstim you?”

The flush is creeping down to his chest now. He glares at you, mortified, but pushing himself.

“Yeah.”

Much better.

You sense the root of his request easily. He needs to be exhausted tonight. He wants to fall into your hands. It’s been a long time since he let you take control like this, so he must really need it.

“Okay,” you soothe. You swing a leg back over his hips, lining his cock up with your slick pussy. “Alright. I’ve got you, babe.”

This time, when your body sucks him down, you don’t hold back. You hold him by the throat and ride him viciously, and he meets you at every stride. You revel in the way your flesh slaps against his, the soft creak of the mattress springs beneath you.

“That’s my baby,” you rasp, bracing your other palm on his broad chest and relishing the scrape of your clit over his body. It’s pushing you to climax far faster than you’d anticipated, but he’s starting to pull at his restraints again.

He’s not far off, either.

It’s the quiet gasp of your name from his lips that makes you sure.

“Almost-“ he chokes, and you press a little more firmly against his throat, drawing the restriction as tight as possible right before he cums. His chin wobbles a little as he lifts his head, bristling beneath you from mere sensation.

You hit your peak first. But he doesn’t follow far behind. As you fall forward against him, your pussy seizes hard around his shaft and milks the pleasure from his body. His wrists jerk against the cuffs- fighting his innate need to grab you hard while he cums. He plants his heels and shoves his hips up hard against yours, and his cum rolls down your insides and coats his shaft as he pumps it slowly into you.

“Good…” You’re breathless, pushing yourself up onto your hands to force the post-orgasm weight from your limbs. “Good one, baby.”

You stroke your fingertips down the side of his sweaty cheek and push a tender kiss to his pink mouth.

You’re just getting started.

Drawing yourself slowly off of him, you settle onto your knees between his legs. You resist the urge to lick your lips.

“Look how much you made for me,” you croon. His cock is slick and messy from his own cum- and yours- and you wrap your palm around his twitching shaft. He’s starting to go soft, but as soon as you squeeze, Bakugou bristles, and you can feel the surge in his muscles as his body reacts involuntarily to the sensation.

“So slippery,” you purr. “So slick for me. Let me give you another one, okay?”

You tighten your grip- firmer than usual and spurred on by the lubrication that his cum provides. He’s already trembling beneath your fingers, but he’s taking his pleasure in stride. He asked for this, after all. You plan to deliver.

“Gah!” He shudders when you start to stroke. You’re jerking him off in earnest, gripping and tugging and using every ounce of that lubrication to your advantage. Your palm slips easily over his tender flesh, and it’s not long before he’s flushed and twitching in your hand again. Fresh swells of precum break through his thickening cum.

It’s when he’s getting ready for his second orgasm that Bakugou starts to whimper.

It’s your favourite sound of his. Prized because of its rarity. You can count on one hand the number of times you’ve managed to pull that sound from him, and it’s almost perfectly aligned with the amount of times that he’s let you do this to him.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting tender already,” you purr, keeping up your steady rhythm. Squeezing just a little tighter, for good measure. His hips jump into your palm and his toes start to curl.

“T-tender,” he stutters, “g-gonna… baby…”

The last syllable gets drawn out as his body arches clean off the bed. He tenses, and his cock shoots thick ropes of cum over your hand and across his belly. There’s more than you anticipated, given the fact that he’d just cum already, but you’re not complaining.

“Holy shit, Katsuki.” You dip your fingers into the mess on his firm belly, slicking fresh drops of cum across his cock. His whole body jerks, hard, when you touch his cock, and you draw your eyes quickly to his face. You want to drink in his expression.

He’s irresistible like this. His whole face has gone maroon, his lower lip pulled tightly between his teeth. His eyes are all heady and soft, blown out with desire and tender sensation. It makes you want to stop, want to throw yourself into his arms and pepper him with kisses, but you know you can bring him further.

“You want my pussy again, babe?”

“Oh, God.” His eyes roll hard as he draws a tight breath through clenched teeth. You only grin wider.

“Come on, baby, I know you got it in you.”

He shoots you a wicked glare, not appreciating his own words when they’re turned on him. But he leads out a heady sigh.

“Just fuckin’ get it over with already.”

You’re far too happy to oblige. This time, you turn your back on him. You reach behind you to dip your fingers into the cum that pools in the grooves of his stomach, and slick some over your own tender folds.

“Jesus,” he snarls, and his cock twitches against your ass.

You ride him a little slower and steadier this time, knowing that your own pleasure is spent. But it doesn’t matter when this is about him. You want him to be so overwhelmed with pleasure by the end that he can’t handle anymore. You want him to break for you. If you take him to pieces, you can put him back together again the right way.

By the time he hits his third peak, the air of aggression and impatience has gone completely. He ruts his way through it with desperate whimpers of overstimulated pleasure, twitching weakly against you as more cum drools into your body.

You clean him up diligently afterward. After licking the mess from his stomach and thighs, you suck down his flushed shaft and he gives a sob of desperate sensation. He’s gone sensitive, so sensitive, but your mouth isn’t enough to hurt. It’s just gentle enough to drive him to that tender ecstasy- the place that feels impossible to reach, with bruised flesh such as his.

You suck diligently and slowly, grabbing the swell of his balls and making him shout for you. His pleasure builds anyway, and you brace your hands on his tensing thighs as he fusses and cries your name and shakes against your lips.

He gives you two bare spurts of thin, desperate cum. You swallow it eagerly and pull away, stroking his trembling thighs.

It’s working. The cracks grow deeper.

“You’re almost there, baby,” you promise, kissing the hard flesh beneath your palms. He starts.

“Almost?”

“One more for me,” you plead. “C’mon, Katsuki, you’ve got one more, right?”

“N-no,” he grits, looking almost teary as he lifts his head to find your gaze. “No, please. I-I can’t take anymore, sweetness, baby, please.”

Concern rises sour in the back of your throat. You take a deep breath and crawl out from between his legs.

“Katsuki,” you whisper, tender as a lamb. You drop to the edge of the bed and push your forehead against his, reaching forward to twine the fingers of one hand with his.

He squeezes your fingers, carefully and distinctly.

Three times. I love you.

That’s your green light.

“Here,” you soothe, reaching into the bedside drawer and producing a bottle of cooling, water-based lube. “Let’s make it a little easier on you this time, okay?”

You squeeze a generous dollop into your palm and rub it between your fingers. When you get between his thighs again, his cock has started to droop in protest. He’s spent- far beyond spent- but you plan to push him through that. It’s what he’s asked for. What he needs from you.

“That must feel better.” You smooth your lubed hands over his cock- the skin is molten- and he fusses again, bristling beneath your fingers and letting out a fitful little moan of indignance. His fingers curl above the soft cuffs that bind him.

“Fuck,” he gasps, but as you squeeze and massage his exhausted flesh, he begins to stir to life again. Even the sensation of arousal seems painful, given the way he squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head to one side.

“Don’t worry, Katsuki,” you promise, “I’m gonna take it nice and slow. I know you can do this, baby, I know you’ve got this for me.”

It doesn’t take him long at all to struggle and fuss his way to a peak.

You touch him in long, smooth, easy strokes, gliding your hand through the cool lube and letting him squirm between your fingers. Every breath he draws is shuddering. His skin is kissed all over with blush. You’ve never seen him look so desperate, so vulnerable before.

It’s no surprise that, as his thighs draw up and his hips shoot downward, as he thrashes against his restraints and sobs your name like a desperate prayer, he produces nothing.

His cock twitches and strains in your hand. His balls draw close, tight and protective. He’s coming, it’s clear, but his orgasm passes without a drop of cum.

“Please,” he begs as the desperate ache of a dry climax settles into his body. You pull your hands from him.

“No more,” he continues. “Please, god, I-I got nothin’ left for you.”

“I know.”

You unbuckle him from his restraints, leaving wet little fingerprints across the supple leather. As soon as he’s free, he rolls onto his side and grabs you tight.

“You’re okay,” you soothe, settling your sticky palms on his back. It doesn’t matter how messy you get- you’re going to clean him up soon, anyway. “You’re alright, baby, I got you.”

“Fuck,” he shudders into the crook of your shoulder. “Gonna fuckin’ get you back for this.”

You grin against his sweat-slicked skin and pull him a little closer.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.”

[blazedgraysons]

Could we get a part 2 to the virgin concept please... Maybe their first time idk

a/n: holy shit, i’m so sorry that it took me so fucking long to finish out my requests. i’ve just been feeling super disconnected from tumblr, but here’s a little something as i get back into wanting to write and post. i’m gonna be clearing out my inbox over the next few days (not that there’s anything to clear lmaoo, i have like four requests I want to do), but if anyone wants to send me something, i would love to write it for you! many kisses, angels, thank you for reading anything i write. i really appreciate it <333

warnings: loss of virginity, more first times, an overuse of the word fuck and probably the softest smut you’ll ever see on this account.

(this isn’t really a series, but it’s suggested you read this and this first.)

“Stop trying to be sexy.”

Grayson’s outside, doing pull-ups, soft grunts spilling out of his mouth with every rep. He looks up, a bright smile on his face when he sees you standing at the entrance of the backyard.

“I wasn’t doing anything.” He says, dropping down from the bar to move towards you.

“That’s more than enough, sometimes.” It was true; recently, it seemed you could be turned on by nothing more than just Grayson being Grayson. “Are you done, amour?”

He nods, leaning down to kiss you on the lips before walking towards the bathroom. You follow, sitting on his bed to scroll through your phone while he gets ready for a post-workout shower. Since the two of you have been taking your relationship further, everything’s escalated between you two - this unavoidable tension growing whenever you’re near each other. If anything, it was like waiting for the drop on a never-ending rise of a roller-coaster. You both knew what you were leading to, but neither of you brave enough to take the fall.

“Hey, have you seen my towel?”

And there was this part, the relentless teasing between the two of you. It was like the two of you knew about this cat-and-mouse game you two were stuck in, wanting to see who could give in first. Lingering touches whenever Grayson passes by you, warm hands always on your lower back and upper thigh. And, of course, the always semi-nakedness. He stood at the doorway, skin still shining with sweat from his workout and underwear low on his hips, showing off his abs and deep v-line. His constant working out recently has been paying off, appreciation present on your face as your eyes slowly drag down his frame.

“Y/N.” His voice roughly comes out, breaking your concentration of following a bead of sweat through the contours of his muscles. You hadn’t noticed your tongue slowly swiping over your lips, Grayson’s mouth drying at the small movement. You look up at him, trying to act as innocent as you can after getting caught checking out your boyfriend.

“My towel?” You don’t comment on how his voice is a few octaves deeper, instead choosing just to shrug.

“Probably in the wash. Just grab a new one.” He nods, watching you bite your lip as you continue to work yourself up over your own thoughts. You really weren’t joking when you had said that his presence was more than enough to turn you on, and he was starting to find it really attractive. He’s a simple man, and knowing his girlfriend finds him attractive is a healthy ego-boost, enough to make him want to see how far he can push you.

He walks over to you slowly, feeling a little stupid at this whole seduction attempt. The look in your eyes, however, resolves any insecurity he might be feeling.

“What… what are you doing?” You ask, stuttering slightly as you become eye-to-eye with his dick. You move forward to touch him, slip a small hand underneath his underwear, anything, but before you can, he stops you. He leans down to cage you in, arms on both sides of your body, so you’re face-to-face. He’s close, close enough that you can make out every minuscule detail on his face. He glances down at your lips, eyes several shades darker than when this whole interaction started, and you can’t help but moan softly, clenching your thighs as he moves closer. You feel the heat radiating off of him, and it’s like the two of you are feeding off of each other's energy, growing more turned on without having done anything yet.

He traces a palm along your inner thigh, stroking softly. Before he reaches where you want him the most, he reaches past you to grab his phone lying on the bed behind you.

“Forgot my phone.” He waves the iPhone in his hand before turning back to use the shower, laughing at the long slew of curses you’re throwing out at him. He knows that however long his shower is will be more than enough time for you to forgive him, being apart giving the both of you time to calm down. And if it isn’t, he knows just the way to apologize. He palms himself lightly, turning the water down to a colder temperature than he would’ve liked, but wanting to kill his throbbing hard-on. He knows he promised he’d wait for you, giving you however much time you needed to feel comfortable enough to sleep with him. However, he’s still a man in his prime, and he can’t help craving more than sloppy blowjobs and unpolished hand jobs. He craves you in the most intimate way, and it seems harder and harder to resist picturing you underneath him, softly moaning out with sharp nails trailing down his back, his mouth marking up your chest.

He shakes his head, almost as if trying to physically clear the image from his head. He was more than happy to wait weeks, months, even years until you were ready to be with him in that way, and he wasn’t going to let whatever fantasies he had ruin that. What the two of you needed was a hard-reset, something to break this rising tension between the two of you. He hops in the shower, shivering slightly under the cold water while coming up with a plan to romance you in the way you deserve.

When he’s finished, he walks out, surprised to see you with damp hair and a sundress on, seeming to have taken your own shower in the meantime. You smile up at him, already have forgotten the teasing from earlier. Grayson’s stomach somersaults at your soft smile, heart beating out of his chest with unbridled love for you.

“C’mon, I have a surprise for you.”

It takes about 30 minutes for him to get everything together, ordering some food to be delivered to his house before you find yourself in the passenger seat of his Tesla, hair blowing in the wind as you sing along softly to the Kid Cudi song playing in the background. He looks over, smiling at the way your skin seems to shine gold in the setting sun. You hadn’t questioned where he was taking you yet, moreso curious at the changing scenery as you drive further and further out of L.A.

“You’re not kidnapping me, right? This is the part where you finally get sick of me?” You joke, hopefully trying to prod some information out of your uncharacteristically silent boyfriend.

“You can never be romantic, huh?” He laughs, looking at you over a pair of sunglasses. After about 45 minutes, you arrive at the beach, car parked near the sand. Grayson grabs the food out of the backseat, handing you the blanket that stays in the trunk of his car.

“A picnic on the beach?” You tease lightly. “Very cliche, Dolan.” He laughs, grabbing your hand.

“Humor me.”

He leads you along the shore, waves providing a background melody to whatever meaningless conversation the two of you are having. The moment he finds a spot he feels is secluded enough, he sets the blanket and food down, pulling you into his lap.

“You’re never this nice to me.” You raise an eyebrow jokingly, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pepper light kisses along his face and neck, humming appreciatively.

“What do you mean, I’m always nice to you. Besides, can’t I spoil my gorgeous girlfriend?”

“Mhm, but you’re laying it on kinda heavy.”

“You’re so annoying.” He rolls his eyes playfully before taking out the food, handing you your meal before digging into his. You can’t help but admire the adonis of a man in front of you, the sunset giving him the infamous golden hour wash. He’s chewing on one of the sandwiches he ordered, concentrated heavily on the vegan goodness in front of him. He looks up at you, poking your face slightly.

“Quit staring. S’not nice.” He jokes, feeding you one of the chips. You don’t know why, but that simple act of domesticity does it for you, images of the future flashing in your mind. You see every part of your and Grayson’s life together, coming together like pieces of a puzzle. It seems overly apparent that there’s nobody else for you except for him, and you start to feel overwhelmed with love for him. There’s no doubt in your mind about what you want to do next.

“So, there's something I’ve been thinking about recently.” He turns to you, still chewing on his food. He cocks his head, giving you a sign to continue.

“I think I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” His eyebrows furrow, confused at the lack of explanation.

“Ready to, y’know.” You trail off, tilting your head in hopes he’ll catch on to what you’re insinuating. When he still looks at you with a blank expression, you move your hand towards his dick, palming lightly over his pants.

“Oh.. oh!” He swallows deeply. “Are you sure, angel? I’m not trying to rush you or anything, just did this because I love you.” Your heart melts even further, and you lean forward, capturing his lips in between yours.

“Of course. Not doing this out of a whim or anything; I want it to be you because I love you. You knew that.” He laughs softly, pulling you closer to him for a light kiss. You lean forward, kissing him deeper, running your hands through his hair and shifting in his lap, trying to guide him in the direction you desired without saying anything.

“Now?” He questions. You nod, already leaning back in to keep kissing him. He pulls back.

“Are you sure, angel? I could make this better, get us a nice room, take you out to a nice dinner beforehand?”You shake your head. Whatever Grayson had planned in his mind, this was so much better - more the two of you.

“This is perfect, amour.” You assure, already leaning back into to continue where you left off. He holds your shoulder, stopping you from going in for the third time.

“Are you sure, Y/N? I want this to be perfect for you.” You stop, pouting slightly at his hesitation.

“Yes, amour. It’ll be perfect so long as I’m with you. Now, please. I don’t want to beg.” You whine, and if Grayson was any less of a man, he probably would’ve made you. However, he could feel you already growing warm in his lap, so he moves to kiss you, pulling you closer to him as he does. He feels every fiber of his being light up, electricity following wherever you touch him. You lean back, pulling on his shirt to get him to discard it. He takes it off quickly before leaning forward to kiss marks down your neck. You moan softly, trailing your nails slightly down his chest. You both lean back, breathing heavily as the sun sets completely, enveloping you two in darkness.

You take him in, not knowing what you want to do next. Even though this is your first time, you still want him to feel as good about this as you do, and so you move off his lap, him looking at you questionably. You lean down slightly, hands moving to unzip his pants. Before you could pull him out of his underwear, he stops you.

“Uh-uh, this is about you.” He grips your jaw lightly, bringing you back up so your face-to-face with him.

“What if what I want is for you to cum with your dick in my mouth?” You narrow your eyes teasingly, moving back into his lap while watching as his own eyes widen at your bold statement.

“Fuck, where the fuck did you learn to talk like that?” You smile at his response, feeling his dick jump lightly underneath you. You roll your hips experimentally, swearing breathlessly when he grips your hips harder. He controls your movements, peppering kisses from your neck down to your chest.

“Fuck, Grayson. Please, I need more.” You’re not exactly sure what you’re asking for, but he, knowing you like the back of his hand by now, is already pulling your dress off. He groans slightly when your tits are exposed, nipples hardening due to the cold ocean air. He leans forwards, taking one into his mouth, sucking and nibbling lightly, circling the other nipple lightly. He switches sides once he’s had his fill, giving your other breast the same attention, watching as you arch your back into him. Once done, he kisses down the valley of your chest, stopping at the edge of your underwear.

“Lay back.” He whispers, moving you, so you’re laid out on the blanket. You don’t hesitate, leaning back on your elbows, so you don’t miss a single movement. He slips your underwear off, whispering a ‘fucking perfect’ once you're exposed to him. He glances up at you again, features illuminated by moonlight, and you can’t help thinking how that statement perfectly describes him as well: fucking perfect. He licks a long stripe before sucking on your clit slowly.

“Grayson!” You jolt, slowly growing wetter with every movement. He slips one finger in, moving slowly.

“Grayson, more.” You whine, bucking your hips. He places a palm down, trying to still your movements.

“I know, I know. Gotta stretch you out first.” He curls his finger a few times before adding another, and you moan louder. It’s slow torture, knowing that he’s right about prepping you properly but also just wanting him to fuck you already. He moves his hand to rub your clit, and you’re done, moaning loudly as your orgasm wrecks over your entire body. You knew it wasn’t going to take much, already having worked yourself up the whole day. He leans back, letting you catch your breath while he slips off his pants and boxers.

“You good?” He checks in, watching as you focus on his dick in front of you. He laughs slightly when you just nod wordlessly and reach forward to jerk him off, hand moving up and down his shaft. He moves out of the way to position himself in front of you, sudden nerves appearing in his stomach. He’s not a virgin at all, but he might as well be, any previous experience flying out the door at the thought of wanting to make this memorable for you. He starts to stress, feeling this overwhelming pressure to make everything perfect. You lean up and kiss the crease that’s appeared in between his eyebrows.

“Just relax.” You whisper.

“I should be the one telling you that.” He chuckles. He coats himself in your wetness before slowly moving his hips forward, thrusting into you softly. And you suddenly understand why he wanted to stretch you out first, because fuck, is he big. You knew it already, having spent a lot of time sucking him off, but feeling every inch slide further and further into you makes the statement even more true in your mind. You whimper softly, and he pauses all movements completely, kissing both your cheeks lightly.

“You okay, angel?” He reaches down, rubbing your clit to help with anything you’re feeling. You nod, taking a breath. It’s not unbearable pain, just a dull ache from a foreign feeling, but the longer he remains still inside you, the more you want him to continue. You moan gently when he throbs lightly, wrapping a leg around his hip to pull him closer to you.  

“Fuck.” He whispers softly, staring down at where he’s bottomed out. He waits a moment, watching every expression on your face for any pain or discomfort. He starts to kiss along your neck and chest again, every kiss peppered with an unspoken vow of forever - knowing he had an unbreakable grip on your heart. You move your hips slightly, both of you moaning out when you squeeze around him. He rolls his pelvis into you, checking to see your response, and your eyes almost roll back from pleasure.

“Move. Please,” Your voice cracks and Grayson almost loses it at the expression on your face, knowing that this is all him. He’s the only man to ever make you feel this way, and if he had anything to do with it, it’d stay that way. He moves his hips again, watching as your face twists into pleasure, almost losing it at the way your velvet walls are gripping him. He picks up speed a little, still rubbing your clit consistently.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He rasps out, overwhelmed with deciding between to look at your face, breast moving with every thrust, or where his dick is entering and leaving your body. It’s almost like a sensory overload, and he prays he doesn’t cum too quickly to ruin this for you. You moan out loudly, not even having words to describe how you’re feeling, that being the only way to express how good he’s making you feel. Grayson thanks every higher power that the ocean is so loud, because between the wet noises from every thrust and your increasing moaning, he knows the two of you would’ve gotten caught in seconds.

“Fuck, angel. You’re doing so good for me, takin’ me so well.” You whimper loudly, eyes closing from his soft praises. He keeps that in mind, watching your reaction whenever he compliments you. He can tell your close, having spent enough time in between your legs to know when near cumming. Just as he thought, it only takes a few more seconds before you’re spilling on to his dick, back arching slightly. He stops, watching you so he can commit every moment to memory, kissing down your chest.  

“Aren’t you going to cum too?” You ask, opening one eye when you still feel him rock hard inside you. He looks down at you, wanting to shake his head at your expression. Here you are, recovering from your second orgasm, and you’re worried about him.

“About to angel, wanted to see you cum first.” He murmurs, kissing your neck once again.

“Cum for me, Grayson. Please, inside of me.” And fuck, he was close, but that does it for him, thrusting once, twice, three times before cumming deep inside of you, both of you moaning at the feeling. It takes a moment for him to catch his breath, kissing you lazily until he feels like he can speak again.

“How was it?” was the first question that comes to mind, not wanting for you to feel any regret.

“I think I have sand in my hair.” You respond.

“I meant the sex, you asshole.”

“It was perfect. You were perfect, amour.” He kisses you softly, moving your waist, so you’re closer to him. You pull back, and he takes you in under the moonlight, sandy hair (which he knows you’re going to bitch about later) and swollen lips. You look so dazed and love-stricken, and he’s sure that if he saw himself, he would have that same dopey expression on his face. He leans in to kiss you once more until you open your mouth to ask -

“Can we do that again?” He slips out of you, you shuddering at the emptiness that overtakes you.

“Whenever you want, angel.”

“Now?” It’s at that moment that Grayson notices his cum leaking out of you, dripping down your thigh, and he can feel his dick hardening again.

“Fuck, give me 5, and then I’m all yours.”

[falcqns]

Lights Up

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: It was just a sex scene, until it wasn't.

Warnings: SMUT! 

A/N: I based this on a dream I had, and this interview with Henry on The Graham Norton Show. It’s also based on the movie mentioned in Sunflower Vol. 6, which is a book I’m currently writing! Hope you enjoy!

What do you mean? I'm sorry by the way

For most actors, sex scenes were inevitable. They weren't fun, they weren't comfortable, and no one enjoyed them.

You had done several tv shows and movies, and you had managed to avoid them, so far. That was, until you were cast as Laureina Russell.

You knew that the movie would have a sex scene, you did write the book, A Splintered Star after all. But you didn't know at the time of writing the sex scene that you’d have to act out said sex scene.

I'm never coming back down Can't you see?

Chris was looking much less nervous than you when you arrived on set. Of course he did, he had done this type of thing before.

“Hey, you nervous?” He asked, as he walked up to you. 

You smiled. “Is it that noticeable?”

He brushed a stray hair out of your eyes. “Yeah, a little. But, you're an amazing actress, and I’ve seen you in action. You’ll be fine.” He reassured you, and you nodded.

I could, but wouldn't stay I wouldn't put it like that

Your heart rate sped up as the director announced that he wanted to get this done as quick as possible, another sign that no one liked filming these scenes.

You placed your phone on your chair, and took your place next to the desk that was placed in the middle of the room.

Luckily, you didn’t have to be naked. Being naked in front of Chris Evans wasn’t exactly the top of your bucket list, at least not with multiple other people in the room.

You ran through your lines and the choreography in your head before the director yelled action, and Chris came barging through the “door”.

“What the hell are you doing, Frewyn?”

“Why’d you leave?” 

You turned away from him and faced the bed. “Because I’m not sure I want to fight for something I’ll never get back. I mean, my parents are dead, and I'm tired of sitting here and pretending that I’m okay with proving myself as  ‘their daughter’. It’s been three months, Frewyn, our deal was one. I’m tired, and I need to move on.” 

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him a little harder than he was supposed to, so you ended up crashing into his body. “I’m tired too, Laureina, but that doesn’t mean we get to stop fighting. As far as Cameron and I are concerned, you’ve proven yourself as your parent’s daughter al-”

“I SHOULDN’T HAVE TO PROVE ANYTHING!” You cut him off. Due to the close proximity of your bodies, and the volume that you delivered your line, Chris let go of you, and stumbled back slightly.

“You’ve torn me away from everything I know. My school, my work, my friends. You’ve taken me away from it all, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I want to go home.” 

You turned away from him, and you felt him grab your wrist. ‘Here it comes,’ You thought to yourself, as he pulled you around once more, and crashed his lips to yours.

What do you mean? I'm sorry by the way

You gripped his shirt, and he gripped your waist. 

You were pulled against his body, and you could have sworn he was hard, but before you could think about it too much, his hands came around your thighs, and you were lifted up and tossed on the bed.

He climbed on top of you, and you moved your hand to the from of his jeans. You fiddled with the zipper on the front of his jeans, but not actually undoing them, whirled he lifted up your dress, and situated his body in-between your legs.

His arms braced themselves on either side of your head, and his hips began to “thrust” against yours.

Even though you two were kissing, you took notice of how he would seemingly accidentally actually rub himself against you, before correcting his position.

I'm never coming around It'd be so sweet if things just stayed the same

You and Chris managed to finish the scene, and the director yelled cut.

He as well as everyone else on set, excluding you and Chris, moved towards the monitor to view it. You, however, turned your attention to Chris.

He was still above you, since the Director told you not to move, but he refused to name eye contact with you, and was very red in the face.

“Hey, look at me,” You coaxed, and he shook his head, his eyes fixed on the flower painting hanging on the wall beside the bed.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered, and you could see his resolve cracking before he turned to you.

“I’m so fucking turned on by you that this scene is literally torturing me,” He admitted, before turning his gaze back to the painting.

All the lights couldn't put out the dark Running through my heart

Suddenly, you were very aware of the way your heart was beating in your chest.

You thought about your options for a few moments, before deciding.

“Well,” You said. “I have something that may benefit the both of us,”

His gaze snapped to you. “What?”     

“We’re both covered, you know,” You gestured towards where he was situated between your legs. “Down there, so, let’s do it.”     

His eye brows wrinkled in confusion. “W-what do you mean?”

You smiled. “Lets, you know, have sex. They won't be able to tell,” You said, while rubbing yourself on him as subtly as you could ‘Oh yeah, he’s definitely hard,’  You thought to yourself.

His breath caught in his throat. “A-are you sure?” 

You nodded, and he let out a shaky breath, before reaching his hand that was facing away from everyone in between your bodies, and fished himself out of his jeans and underwear.

His hand slid from himself to your underwear, and tugged them aside.

His hand came back to grip his aching cock, and he ran it through your folds, before coming to rest at your entrance.

Lights up and they know who you are Know who you are

The director let you guys know that he wanted to run through the actual sex scene, not the dialogue.

Moments later, action was called, and Chris locked lips with you as he slid in, swallowing your moans.

He pulled out slowly, before pushing back in, and setting a quick pace.

He disconnected his lips to moan, and you did too. 

He dipped his head to your ear. “Feel so good, baby,” He groaned out. “Wanna fill you up so bad,”

You moaned in response, making it loud enough for the microphone to hear you.

He felt his high drawing near, and you did as well. However, just as you were about it hit it, the director yelled cut.

Chris withdrew himself from you and tucked himself back in his jeans in record time. He moved off of you seconds later when it was announced that they got the scene, and filming was done for the day.

Chris rushed off set moments later, without a word.

Step into the light (Shine) So bright sometimes (Shine) I'm not ever going back

You sighed in annoyance, and rushed after him. 

You walked into his trailer, and found him sitting on the couch, staring at his feet.

“Why’d you leave?” You asked, and he looked up at you.

“I shouldn't have gone through with that, I’m sorry.” You scoffed, and grabbed his hands, before straddling his lap. 

“Why?” You questioned, gripping his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

“I don’t want to ruin anything,” 

You chuckled before pressing your lips to his, and his hands gripped your hips.

You disconnected your lips from his. “You won't, unless you don’t fuck me right now.”

He growled at you before reaching in between your bodies once again to free himself. He wasted no time in pushing your panties aside once more, before sliding in. 

You went to move you hips, but Chris kept his grip on your hips tight. He speared up into you, unable to hold his moans back.

“Fuck, you feel like heaven baby,” He grunted out, and you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Wanted you like this for months. Bet you haven't been filled like this before right? Only me, who’s been this deep?” You cried out and nodded.

“Y-Yes! Only you!”

“Yeah only me, baby. This dripping pussy is all mine,” He managed to grunt out, before pushing you down against him, and cumming, you following seconds later.

What do you mean? I'm sorry by the way I'm never going back now It'd be so sweet if things just stayed the same

You collapsed against him, his fingers running up and down your spine.

“Holy shit,” You said.

He nodded above you, and pressed a kiss to your hair.

“Hell yeah,”

All the lights couldn't put out the dark Running through my heart Lights up and they know who you are Know who you are Do you know who you are?

[rvspberry]

Idk if I’m gonna end up posting this on AO3 because it’s very different from what I usually write.

But below the cut is some Johnny Lawrence sexuality crisis angst with a happy ending if you feel like it. (Heavy Christian themes and Lawrusso ending ahead.)

He was righteous, on high, the Almighty personified. Forgiving, and gracious in victory, and good through and through. Set his mind to something and he could make the whole world come alive.

That’s how Johnny felt at the Tournament, at least, when the entire crowd swarmed the floor and lifted LaRusso onto their shoulders, and Johnny snagged the first place trophy. Handed it up like an offering, a sacrificial lamb — all that Johnny had at stake, all that he’d lost, given freely and openly to this holy being.

The crowd grew louder. Johnny called out, “You’re alright, LaRusso. Good match.”

Got a pained, “Thanks,” in return.

He’d touched someone holy and lived to tell the tale.

~

Once Johnny is at Bobby’s house that night, since Sid and Laura flew to Miami for the week before Christmas, he asks Bobby to pray with him.

“You okay, Johnny?”

Johnny glances up to find worried blue eyes looking over at him, sizing him up — no, not quite. Measuring him, trying to gauge Johnny for what no one could see. Bobby’s eyes are such a different blue than Johnny's, clear and crisp but never cold. Johnny wonders if Bobby sees anything, if Johnny shows anything.

“I just…” Johnny rasps, gripping the glass of water in hand again and taking a hesitant sip. They told him at the hospital that he’d have to rest. Asked if he wanted to press charges, but Johnny just shook his head. “I need some guidance.”

“No better place to look to than to Jesus,” Bobby agrees, reaching out to take Johnny’s hands. He closes his eyes, and Johnny pauses for a brief moment, body going stiff, before he follows suit. Takes a deep breath as Bobby begins. “Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name.”

Daniel.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” Bobby continues.

Johnny squeezes his eyes tighter and tries not to let his grip tighten, too.

“Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Please forgive me. Please. Daniel. I’m sorry.

“And lead us not into temptation—”

Daniel’s eyes. His grin, his mouth, his lips. Daniel’s body. The confident smirk when he gets up into Johnny’s face.

“—but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory,” Bobby finishes, squeezing Johnny’s hands. Johnny blinks his eyes open, jaw clenched, to see Bobby giving him a small smile. “Forever and ever. Amen.”

“Amen,” Johnny repeats weakly, clenching his teeth against the urge to cry. To sob.

To throw himself onto the floor and mourn the loss of a life he’d had for years now, the life he’d fought so hard for. The life of a champion, of a winner, the life of a kid from Encino Hills. The life of someone normal, a leader, head dog even though he came into this life late, no rules established, flying blind and feeling his way into his place.

“You’re sure you’re okay, man?”

“I’m not,” Johnny chokes out. Hangs his head.

There are too many thoughts in his head, too much guilt and shame, and he can’t focus on one without the other flaring up to take his attention. Back and forth, back and forth, between Kreese almost killing him and Daniel’s sensei saving him and Daniel winning the match, to needlessly tormenting Daniel all semester and making a bigger ass of himself each and every time. Over and over, like it was on a loop.

“Do you want to pray again?” Bobby asks, voice dropping lower. “Sometimes it helps. The… repetition. Try to focus on the words this time. Focus on God. Let the spirit take you.”

Take me where? Johnny thinks, but he just tightens his hands around Bobby’s and nods.

“Our Father, who art in heaven…”

~

When Bobby leaves at the end of the summer to go to college in Oregon, a special school for religious studies, he leaves Johnny with his new number and a prayer book.

“If things get hard, turn to God,” he reminds Johnny. Pats Johnny’s back while they hug tightly. Johnny hasn’t been apart from Bobby since they became best friends at thirteen, both newly enrolled in Cobra Kai. “God has a plan for all of us, and you can find all your answers in the Lord, man. You just have to be open to hearing them even when they’re not the answers you want.”

Johnny keeps the prayer book. Says a prayer every night. Calls Bobby once a week, like clockwork, and stops drinking. He gets kicked out of Sid’s house when he turns 18 in July, gets a job as a handyman, then starts apprenticing for a carpenter, then starts working construction. It’s hard work but it’s honest work.

~

Every time his eyes turn to one of his coworkers, when they catch on the sweat and grime smeared over their muscles, or the curve of their ass, or the line of their jaw, Johnny recites one of those prayers in his head.

Dear Lord, please give me strength when I am weak, courage when I am afraid, love when I feel forsaken, wisdom when I feel foolish, comfort when I am alone, hope when I feel rejected, and peace when I am in turmoil. Amen.

Every time he gets asked out for drinks by his well-meaning colleagues, he politely declines and spends ten minutes praying in his car after his shift is over, hands blistered, muscles aching.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among sinners and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Every night, Johnny lays in bed and freestyles his prayers. God needs to know, he probably already knows, but he needs to know that Johnny doesn’t want to be like this. He wants to change. He wants answers. He wants to be open to them, just like Bobby told him.

~

“Go out tonight,” Bobby laughs when Johnny calls him on a Saturday at his usual time. “Just get out and have some fun. Go to a movie. Buy yourself dinner, whatever. Go meet someone. You’re just working and sleeping. You need to live a little, Johnny.”

Is that what God wants me to do? Johnny thought to himself. To go out and find a woman to settle down with? Is that God’s plan?

It’s what Johnny’s supposed to do, right?

“Okay, okay,” Johnny groans into the phone, ready to slam it back onto the receiver when Bobby whoops in elated triumph. “Some good, clean fun. Fitting for the best friend of a pastor’s son.”

~

Johnny goes to the movies. The new sequel to Alien, aptly titled ‘Aliens,’ looks halfway decent. Definitely not a good clean movie, but Johnny can live a little. It’s on its last leg, only playing the earlier showings, so Johnny snags the ticket since he figures he can be mostly alone that way. He loiters in the lobby trying to decide between popcorn or an overpriced box of candy to go with his soda. The bored teen behind the counter pops her gum and rolls her eyes as she waits for him to make up his mind.

He doesn’t fidget as he looks in the glass case, even as much as he wants to. It’s been conditioned out of him.

“Back straight, shoulders down, chin up, Mr. Lawrence.”

“Hey, can I get a large popcorn please?” comes a voice from beside him.

Johnny glances over, shaggy hair whipping around his face, and spots the one person he thought he’d never see again. Daniel LaRusso looks the same as he did before — a little taller, maybe, his long limbs filled out a little more, but still the shrimpy kid who kicked his ass.

Same eyes, same voice, same body.

Same mouth.

Dear Lord, please give me strength—

“Johnny? Johnny Lawrence?!” Daniel’s words cut through his prayer.

Johnny inhales sharply. He has to control himself. Give me the strength when I am weak, courage when I—

“Holy shit, man, look at you,” Daniel laughs, tapping Johnny’s bicep tellingly. A year-plus in construction had done wonders for his body, and his arms in particular. “Like a brick shithouse. Are you on steroids?”

“No, I work construction.” Johnny doesn’t know why his voice sounds so rough. He clears his throat and tries again. “Hi, LaRusso. Small world meeting you here, I guess.”

“Yeah, man! You here with anyone?” Daniel glances around, as if trying to pin someone else in the lobby to Johnny, but there was no one to match him up with. No one to match up Daniel with, either.

“No. You?”

“Flying solo today,” Daniel croons, running his hands down his chest. Johnny blushes and looks up at the ceiling.

Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee—

“What movie are you seeing?” Daniel asks, taking the tub of popcorn from the teen and passing a bill over the counter. He snagged a handful and popped a few butter-soaked pieces into his mouth.

“Uh…” Johnny glances down at his ticket. “Aliens.”

“No way! Me too!” Daniel says around chewing the popcorn. He pauses and looks at Johnny with his head cocked curiously. “You wanna watch it together?”

~

O, my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended You. I detest all my sins because of your just punishments, but most of all because they offend you, My God, who are all good and worthy of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Your grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin. Amen.

~

The movie theater is empty. There’s butter on Daniel’s bottom lip, shining in the dimly lit room. Johnny licks it off in the black silence of the end credits.

Kissing Daniel feels like coming home. It feels like touching something divine, and Johnny’s stained gold in all the places they touch.

Is this God’s plan? Johnny asks himself. Daniel’s fingers tug at his hair, nails scraping gently over his scalp. Johnny pulls Daniel across the seat and into his lap as he swallows Daniel’s moan.

Below Johnny’s hands, Daniel feels like an answer.