🤬 Open Contact

[blastedass]

Open Contact

"The fuck do you want? Make it fast, shithead."



What to contact Bakugo for a talk? Feel free to say whatever here!

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That's Not How You Raincheck 💥 for <user name=crookedsmiles>

[blastedass]

[continued from here~]

That’s fucking normal.

[For both of them. Probably not the same kind of rough, considering Bakugo’s still a student with part-time hero work and Yamamoto is… he wants to say a yakuza, but doesn’t quite think that’s the correct term / description of the other man’s job. Which is kind of makes the hush-hush nature of it even more obvious. He does know that, at some point in the future, it’s going to become a problem. Whatever the older man’s into, it’s illegal despite the protectiveness and friends he has within the work. It likely won’t be seeing eye to eye with the Hero Society Bakugo and the other students of U.A. are part of. Wonder if he has any connection of Overdrive (Kai Chisaki); he’s part of another yakuza family in Japan… That’s a question that’s probably never going to come up.

Either way, they’ll deal with that issue when and if it comes up. He’s not scared at all about what might come after him from Yamamoto’s side of the walk. Clashing with the heroes is a bad idea for anyone. Despite his personal friendship relationship with the other man, Bakugo’s still a hero. Of course, this is all just what he’s assumed and pieced together from the vague hints, clues, stereotypes, and other shit he’s received from Yamamoto, willing or accidental. Just… it’s obvious he tolerates (likes) the other man to a degree he’d be really bothered if they had to truly come to opposing sides. They’d clashed before, though never in a way that suggested they were directly going for each other. Bakugo always feels their not-a-spar fights are due to accidentally being in the wrong place at the right/wrong time. It’s a weird relationship.

But it’s happened and it’s grown into this. He never would’ve given Yamamoto a second thought if the man hadn’t fucking got away during their first encounter. And not the “villain manages to escape” sort of get away, but in the “yeah, I’m done here” sort of taking his fucking leave. Pissed him off to no end. Even worse when they met again and the bastard FUCKING GOT AWAY! Then had the audacity to contact him! Which eventually turned into… yeah… all this. Having a meal with him was strange enough, but the texting and the conversations and everything else kept building up. Until he found himself somewhat “caught” in the man known as Takeshi Yamamoto. That calm and friendliness that drives him up the fucking wall with Izuku are somehow less abrasive with Yamamoto and he’s able to tolerate them just a little better. But there’s a strength to him and a mysteriousness that Bakugo reluctantly respects and feels drawn towards, born from his inability to capture the damn guy. Initially due to skill, but nowadays due to lack of want to.

He doesn’t really care to catch him now. Hell, doesn’t really care to figure out that mystery. It’s different. He simply… kinda likes being around him. That’s all. Especially since he knows what kind of effect he has on the other man. Even when he pisses him off. It’s the clash of an explosion with a fire. It excites him and that’s something he can’t deny. Even if Yamamoto has some really weird fucking kinks… Serves him right.]

Bullshit. You wouldn’t use a pillow for that. [He’ll still have that second pillow. For reasons.] I know at least three different body parts you’d rather put in my mouth, you risk-taking asshole.

[ooc: come for the texting, stay for the bullshit.]

[crookedsmiles]

[ The shift in their relationship has been slow and gradual. Barely perceived changes and concessions that each seem so small and insignificant on their own but when studied side by side weave a complex tapestry between them. A part of Yamamoto knows that the smart thing to do is to walk away, yet the window of opportunity for that has long passed.

Yamamoto closes his eyes and envisions blood red eyes, a sneering mouth, and a raspy growl. The corner of his mouth twitches, wishing Bakugo was there, snarling into his ear what a dumb fuck he is for getting shot.

There is something about Bakugo's vulgar mouth that just does it for him. It makes him want to lunge forward, to capture those lips between sharp teeth and bite them red and swollen. To swallow his insults and threats, sucking and licking the words right off his tongue and until all that's left is shuttered breaths and an entirely different sort of danger.

Yamamoto trails a hand over his chest, skimming over bandages and feeling the array of old scars that litter his tanned skin. Would Bakugo be the same? Little bumps and dips all across his body like badges of honor won in past battles? ]

definitely more than three.

[ And the grin on his lips turns wolfish, a tiny victory in what is left unsaid. Not that Yamamoto couldn't get him to moan, not that he would murder him for suggesting it, but rather a dig at all the things Yamamoto wants to do to him. With Bakugo, what is left unsaid is often what rings the loudest. ]

i'll have to make sure you have all your rabies shots beforehand

[blastedass]

[He would’ve never given him a second glance. But that grin as he escaped… It’d stuck with him, harder than he ever could’ve thought. Enough that the next time he saw the man, Bakugo went straight for him. Sure, all due to wanting some paybacks for escaping the last time. Owed him an explosive punch to the face. But that time and the time after and the time after that, “success” was never to be had. Drove him nuts.

Those little changes kept leaking in. From the first “I just want to talk” meeting to the first time he warily accepted meeting the other man for a meal. Little things. Little steps. To the first time he actually pulled a punch and held back going against that damn sword. To the first time he aboutfaced and blasted the assassin who thought trying to take off Yamamoto’s head while he was distracted in another fight was a great idea.

Bakugo’s eyes lid halfway and his mind wanders along the man’s face. That smile ranging from cheery to confident. The slope of his neck melding with those broad shoulders. The husk of his voice, young and yet so full of “I’ve seen things” depth. His eyes, those striking orbs of brown/gold/amber/honey (he can never make up his mind). What kind of excuses would he make for getting shot, he wonders…

Izuku has the same kind of self-sacrificial, friend-focused, eternally-cheerful, stupid attitude. And yet, for some damn reason, Yamamoto’s version is easier to tolerate and annoyingly encouraging. Bakugo feels like he’s as likely to clap a hand over the man’s mouth to shut him up as he might be willing to take a kiss on the mouth to get the same result. Even if he’s psyching for it somewhere in his mind, he knows it’s going to be a shock when it actually happens.

Damn this weekend for getting rainchecked… What he would’ve done with him, the marks he figured he’d leave on his body, sending Yamamoto back to his world with outlines of his teeth on his neck and red bruises glowing on the underside of his arms and the inside of his thighs and wherever else he could think to make them. Until that damn mouth of his was nothing more than a mess of hot breath and moans.

What other scars would be on Yamamoto’s body? Bakugo may be young, but his experience and battles as a hero have left him with scars of his own. From the occasional cuts to burns to stabs. Probably not as many as Yamamoto, since the young hero’s pride and skill make it so he doesn’t get hit very often. But he’s not perfect, despite his bragging to the contrary. As he wanders his hand down his chest, feeling over the round of muscle and the ripple of his abs, fingers playing at the occasional rise or dip on his flesh from an old wound, he lets his mind drift the same, but on a different body.]

I’ll fucking chew you up and spit you out all you want.

[Give him the opportunity and he’ll take it. Three parts or even more. It’s annoying that the guy can sometimes pick up on the things he doesn’t say. But it’s a futile attempt to stop him and Bakugo’s not about to voice that kind of shit. Too proud.]

Maybe I’ll change my mind then. Don’t want to get lead poisoning from your bullet-riddled butt.

[Hey, sometimes, the old phrases still make it through the comics from his youth.]