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sportsanime2015-06-27 09:18 pm
referees) wrote in sportsanime2015-06-27 09:18 pm
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Bonus Round 3: FSTs
Bonus Round 3: FSTs
This round is CLOSED. Late fills can be posted, but they won't receive points.
We're halfway through all the bonus rounds now. If you're like us, every love song on the radio seems to apply to your OTP. In this round we'd like you to serenade us with some of your top picks!
This round ends at 7PM on July 11 EDT. Countdown Timer.
RULES
- Submit prompts in the form of a short playlist (3-6 songs) and a ship from any of our nominated fandoms. Submit only the track listing and a link to where they can be listened to; the idea is for others to interpret what you present. You may also link to lyrics if you would like.
- Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. (This is not the sports anime gen olympics.) Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Riko & Momoi & Alex). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Riko/Momoi/Alex). Please don't say "Any pairing," either.
- Create content based on the playlists of others! Fill prompts by leaving a responding comment to the prompt with your newly-created work.
- Fills may be in any form you choose (except for another FST of course) as long as they are inspired by/fit the mood of the soundtrack they are filling for.
- Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.
- You cannot fill your teammates' prompts or your own prompts.
FORMAT
Bonus round shenanigans all happen in the comments below. Brand-new works only, please.Required Work Minimums:
- 400 words (prose)
- 400px by 400px (art)
- 14 lines (poetry)
Format your comment in one of the following ways:
| If PROMPTING: | If FILLING: | If FILLING as a TEAM GRANDSTAND participant: |
PROMPT: TEAM [YOUR SHIP]
|
FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP], [RATING]
|
FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [RATING]
|
Posts not using this format will be understood to be unofficial discussion posts, regardless of what they contain. They, like all comments in this community, are subject to the code of conduct.
SCORING
These numbers apply to your team as a whole, not each individual teammate. Make as many prompts/fills as you want!For prompts: 5 points each (maximum of 50 prompt points per team per round)
For fills:
First 3 fills by any member of your team: 20 points each
Fills 4-10: 10 points each
Fills 11-20: 5 points each
Fills 21+: 2 points each
All scored content must be created new for this round.
Etc.
If you're hunting through the prompts looking for what to fill, a good trick is to view top-level comments only.Have a question? Check The FAQ first. If you still need help, feel free to contact the mods. Happy fanworking!
PROMPT: TEAM IMAIZUMI SHUNSUKE/NARUKO SHOUKICHI
Gold Guns Girls - Metric
Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) - Sonny Bono
Somebody That I Used To Know - Gotye
Re: PROMPT: TEAM IMAIZUMI SHUNSUKE/NARUKO SHOUKICHI
FILL: TEAM AKAASHI KEIJI/BOKUTO KOUTAROU/KUROO TETSUROU, E
1583 words
Kageyama smells like gunpowder.
He makes little sounds while Oikawa slowly eases himself on his cock, choked-back noises that he’d rather not hear at all. Flat on his back, Kageyama bucks up his hips on instinct and it jolts him, a flash of ecstasy raking over his veins that shouldn’t exist. “Ah-ah,” he breathes, and presses the gun to Tobio-chan’s forehead. “Not yet.”
For all Kageyama knows, it could be loaded. He freezes at the touch of cold metal, and Oikawa grins down at him: all teeth and no mirth. The please is already written in his eyes, but Kageyama isn't as stupid as he’d like. He doesn't beg. Fucking him means that Oikawa will fight a war over his body and win, but always want it again afterward--teaching Tobio-chan the meaning of submission was a bittersweet victory.
Oikawa seats himself fully on Kageyama’s lap, and he trembles with the effort of staying still. He appreciates the effort. His body knows how much he’d like to fuck upward, and if he didn’t have other plans for him he’d let Tobio-chan try. He’s hard himself, thick and aching between his legs, the air saturated with the tang of lube and sex. Oikawa lets gravity pull him down, the slow slide of Kageyama’s cock pushing through his hole vindictively scorching him from the inside out. He’s burning, but he’ll take Tobio-chan with him.
But he keeps the gun pressed against Kageyama’s head, eyes wide, gaze flicking back and forth from the barrel to his face. (Tobio-chan used to close his eyes, flush creeping up on his skin until it colored him with blood, just under the skin. He was a different kid then, and Tooru was less hungry for his shame, more content with the satisfaction of breaking him without resorting to physical touch. But Tobio-chan is touch-starved for him now, always leans in toward him, dragged by the force of his charisma.) Oikawa rolls his hips and drags a muffled noise from Kageyama that dies in his throat.
For the last few years of his life, everyone he sees reminds him of the kid. It's unpleasant and irritating, the image of Tobio-chan's hands shadowing his ribs insistent in his mind. "Move," he orders, and Kageyama does, immediately shifting his hips as Oikawa squeezes his knees around his waist, hand pressed down at the center of Kageyama’s sternum. It's awkward going with Kageyama’s fists at his sides, elbows locked stiff in an attempt to keep from reaching up and grabbing him. He's well-trained: it’s Oikawa’s satisfaction that gives him his, his pleasure that keys into his own.
That’s what he likes the most: Oikawa owns every shudder that rips through Kageyama’s body, owns every gasp he pulls out of his lungs when he fucks him, when he hurts him. He makes little sighs when Oikawa gifts him slaps and claws across his skin, but the gun does most of the work today. Kageyama zeroes in on the threat pressed against his flesh and the sheer terror makes his thrusts rougher, his limbs more rigid. He sweats more when he's actively scared, and Oikawa likes the look of it.
"Good," Oikawa breathes, and Kageyama’s face morphs from spaced-out bliss into something that looks almost like amusement, as if he were lifting himself from his headspace back to the surface. "Ah, maybe not." Oikawa moves the gun from Kageyama’s forehead, leaving a red mark where it had pressed into his skin, to his mouth. "Open up," he grins, and Kageyama does that, too.
It must be awful, the metal in Kageyama’s mouth. Oikawa can see him grimace around the gun. But he does, Oikawa knows, swallow: and his lips around its barrel makes him shove his hips down harder, go faster. It burns a little, stretched out as he is, but Kageyama likes how he clenches when it hurts like this. He thrusts faster in retaliation, and Oikawa bites down his own lip to seal off his praise. Kageyama’s cock fucking drools for him, always has, and he knows how hard Oikawa likes it, how punishingly fast he wants to go.
After all, Oikawa knows him, knows this body’s buttons and triggers as easily as his own. He’s taught him half of everything he knows and everything he likes. The thought of it makes Oikawa shove in the gun further down his throat, Kageyama’s tongue flattening down the barrel. He can hear him choke around it, little grunts between heaving breaths, and clenches around his cock, rocks down his hips. He'll take every noise Tobio-chan doesn't want him to hear.
“Tobio-chan, you’re loud,” Oikawa chides instead, and it makes him louder, the little bastard. He moans with every thrust, spit running from his mouth while he arches, tries to slam his hips against his ass. “I said,” and Kageyama does choke on the gun, Oikawa tickling his throat with it, “Be quiet.” Kageyama freezes entirely. The undercurrent of fear is so strong from him that Oikawa can taste it, but his eyes are still so aware. “I didn’t say you could stop.”
Kageyama’s teeth clack against the metal in his mouth. He makes ragged aaah sounds and pushes his cock back into Oikawa, bringing them right back where they started. It’s agonizingly slow until Oikawa twists the gun in his mouth, hurry up and that feels good all at once. He’ll have to do the work now he’s stopped, but Kageyama’s tension is so dense in him that he looks like he’ll snap in half under Oikawa’s legs.
“Tobio-chan, if you come before I do,” he smile, and this one is real, “I’ll have to hurt you.” Kageyama’s hips stutter. He craves Oikawa’s approval, and the knuckles of his fists turn white with pressure. “Work hard.”
But he always does. Kageyama’s pace builds until Oikawa can see stars, until the gun in his hand shakes and the other hand supporting him claws red nailmarks right at the center of Kageyama’s chest. He always likes marking him. “I’ll shoot you,” Oikawa pants, and it makes Kageyama light up, his hips still moving, stroking erratic thrusts. He’s so close himself he might lose it, lose the little game they play between themselves. “I’ll shoot you right here.”
His finger moves for the trigger, and Kageyama can’t choke back the genuine whimper from him. He can’t speak, but the face he wears tells Oikawa everything: he’s afraid of him but needs to come, needs his permission to come. Oikawa is the only one who can give him this, and he can sense his own orgasm building, peaking, from the fear in Kageyama’s eyes and the electric bursts that explode behind his own. He shouldn’t have taught Tobio-chan how to fuck him right.
He has to be the levelheaded one, the better one here. But he grinds down his hips instead, keeps Kageyama trapped under him. He’s selfish this way: he comes, spills long strings of white across Kageyama’s chest, pants with the effort of keeping himself upright.
The sheer desperation on Tobio-chan’s face--that Oikawa is the only one who can reduce him to this--makes him breathe, “Yes,” at last.
Kageyama doesn’t need much else; his hands uncurl from their white-knuckled fists and clutch at Oikawa’s hips. Kageyama throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut, cock buried in Oikawa’s hole and filling him entirely, a strangled sob of relief coming from his throat. Kageyama is spooling loose before his very eyes, fucking Oikawa with his jaw forced open. The gun is still jammed in his mouth. It’s his natural pace, the one that Oikawa allows when he doesn’t have to derive power from denying Tobio-chan anything; the one he uses when he needs to get off.
Kageyama in submission is bittersweet, but in orgasm he’s almost strangely beautiful. The roar of pleasure in Oikawa’s limbs echoes itself in his body when Kageyama comes, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. He bites down on the gun and snaps up his hips until he can’t move, gives himself what he wants while Oikawa’s weight pins him down. “I feel good, don’t I,” he croons, rolling his hips in rhythm with him. Kageyama nods furiously, shaking from climax.
Feeling generous, Oikawa takes the gun out of his mouth. He waits for to really look him again, Kageyama’s cock growing soft in him, still encased in heat.
“Tobio-chan,” he says softly, and Kageyama is so far gone he only shivers at the sound. He’s prone on the floor, chest decorated with Oikawa’s marks, and looks like he won’t come back from inside his head. (Oikawa doesn’t think about how empty he feels when he stands up on jelly knees, how good it had felt when Tobio-chan had really let go.) “Tobio-chan--”
He could slap him. But he’d be used to it: Kageyama likes it when Oikawa hurts him. So he just leans forward, knees still straddling him as he seats himself across Kageyama’s thighs. Kisses him instead, the same mouth that had warmed a gun only seconds before. “Look at me,” he whispers, and Kageyama seems to come back to himself, just a little. “Good boy.”
The gun is shiny from Kageyama’s spit. Oikawa can feel how his come leaks from his body while he’s stretched his spine over his body, folded in atop Kageyama like two halves of a whole. He might use it again later.
Tobio-chan tastes like metal.
Re: FILL: TEAM AKAASHI KEIJI/BOKUTO KOUTAROU/KUROO TETSUROU, E
BLESS YOUR FACE
Re: FILL: TEAM AKAASHI KEIJI/BOKUTO KOUTAROU/KUROO TETSUROU, E
Re: FILL: TEAM AKAASHI KEIJI/BOKUTO KOUTAROU/KUROO TETSUROU, E