👿 Open Post 3

[blastedass]

Open Post

What to hit up Bakugo for some action? Feel free to do whatever here!



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[hairsplit]

( the embarrassment builds into itself, threatening to force his neck to crane down, his face to find the sheets, as though burying it there might mitigate the heat burning off his cheeks--his quirk works without him even realizing, steadily attempting a failing save on his body temperature, but like a fire that's out of control, he can't seem to stop his face from flushing. it's not that he thinks bakugou is going to laugh at him, or that he's going to reject him, or that he's going to leave him there, but rather, it's the thought of allowing himself to feel like something more than just a means to an end, or a tool to get somewhere, that burns up inside of him, as though he's gotten so used to perceiving himself as the object that endeavor has so often relegated him to. a masterpiece, a perfect mix, the salve to his ego, the hero of the family: all of it casts him as less than a person, no matter how favorable. but bakugou doesn't see him like that--and maybe, just this once, he can allow himself to see his own body as more than just a construct for someone else.

because bakugou looks at him and wants him, not just for the stumbling, blunt barrier of softness on the inside, but for what he sees on the outside too. because bakugou advances on him now, like this, with his thighs spread apart, his hips close to the edge of the bed, his hair damp and tangled against his face as though he's something to be wanted, something to be desired, something that drives him crazy just by existing like this, naked and willing. putting himself on display like this is like splitting open his chest and waiting, patiently, to see if someone will scramble his insides; and bakugou never hurts him.

even so: the hitch of breath when bakugou edges closer is just as surprised as it is embarrassed; he doesn't even muster up the words for a comeback, swallowing it down with a disgruntled hum in the back of his throat. he expects the warm, hot weight of bakugou's chest against his back, the steady, tantalizing trail of his breath against the back of his neck, the press of his hips, the weight of his cock.

he doesn't get any of that. outside of expectation, bakugou's hands land on his hips, squeezing them, fingers kneading and spreading him apart, and his own arms on the mattress lock in at the elbow, pressing closer together as though he could bury his face in them and hide. but then what's the point? bakugou has seen and touched every inch of him: there's nothing that he hasn't seen, hasn't kissed, touched, lapped his tongue around, pressed his fingers into. his breath steadies, a cool puff against his own skin, his chin tilting slightly in towards his shoulder as though it might win him some shot of what's behind. but bakugou's on his knees, and his hands are in control, and that long, lengthy curl of saliva, weighted from bakugou's tongue up along the split of his cheeks, forces his chin to drop down again, his head sagging between his shoulders. )

Fuck. ( it's the smallest, quietest murmur, laced under his breath: because his thighs tense, his feet square, bakugou's tongue presses and runs over the back of his balls and up again and his hips jerk, a flinched tremor against the edge of the bed. the head of his cock swells in against the edge of the mattress, a brush that jolts him with unfamiliar friction; his whole body is trapped there, between bakugou's ministrations and the curt edge of the bed.

stiff, his toes flex his weight up a little, arched, because he wants to lean into the steady probe of bakugou's tongue just as much as he wants to escape it, as though he'll come a little too embarrassingly fast if he keeps running over his hole like that. )

I didn't--Katsuki-- ( a throaty, deep-seated tremor of breath, caught between a grunt and a moan, but he pushes his weight back onto his heels again, cementing himself in the sensation. ) Katsuki--

( is it ordering him around, to tell him not to stop? to tell him to keep going? to want him? to ask for him? he doesn't swallow the next moan; it escapes unbidden anyway, like that's his best attempt. )

[blastedass]

[he's never seen todoroki as anything but a person. initially an annoying obstacle he had to crush to prove to his own stupid heart there was a way to beat him! the first person he ever saw on his own level who froze his chest in despair at seeing his power. then a bothersome rival partner when they were forced to attend those stupid remediation classes together. spending time walking in front of him, having to deal with awkwardly-attempted chatter on the damn bus, all of it funneling his attention to todoroki. built into a competitive working relationship under endeavor at their internship, where he learned far more about the family he ever wanted to, where he began to actually give more than shit about his classmate's comfort and emotions. to where they are now, allies and companions bonded closer together than almost anyone else in his life, sharing showers and engaging in carnal activities with each other amid heated breaths and sappy words he won't admit branding onto his lover's skin in the tub. always from the start a person to him, multifaceted and engaging as todoroki worked his way into his life and heart. anyone who wants to see him as something less than that, even his own mismatched eyes, is gonna be paying dearly for slighting him.

he found himself caring about this man. not in a casual classmate or coworker way. but actually wanting to see his expression soften in a small smile. wanting to make sure his tender feelings aren't shredded. wanting to protect him not as a hero, but as his partner. would he laugh at him if he said he thought about waking up in the morning and watching todoroki's sleeping face beside him on the bed? would he laugh if he admitted he woke up from a dream of inane thoughts about shopping alongside him at the store, fussing over his stupid hat not staying on his head so no one would recognize them so easily. or sitting beside someone who by all logic should be immune to a common cold and spooning hot broth into his mouth so he'd get better soon... nah, todoroki's not the kind of guy to laugh at that.

then again, never thought he'd blush, and here he is, lying on his back with his legs spread and the lines in his thighs flexing in anticipation as blood crawls across his cheekbones. hands settle on fair skin and he presses upward, tracing his fingertips and the hovering heat of his palms from the man's knees to his upper legs. following the elongated teardrop shapes of thigh muscles leading to a hard cut v defining his narrow hips. fucking hilarious the boy voted "hottest guy in class" struggled with believing anyone could actually want him. he leans over his body, slots amid the embrace of his legs, brings himself nigh flush to his lover's naked form with clear desire burning in his red eyes, no attempts to hide his own arousal and longing. as if he can see todoroki's heart slamming in his chest, pumping that unique dual-temperature blood through his two sides. a hitched breath at his touch and his mouth corner twitches upward, a gentle "heeeh" escaping amusement and lust combined.

would've been so easy to lie down atop him, rest his chest against his strong back, slotted together so perfectly despite the height difference as his chest melded with his spine. he wants to. really. but nah, there's something more unique he wants with his boyfriend lying on his chest, unable to look as properly over his shoulder as he could down his front. won't know what to expect as his hands remain locked about his hips, thumbs pressing into the plush strength of todoroki's buttocks. red eyes flick upward, looking along the landscape of athletic muscle and curves until he reaches an embarrassed telltale drop of head into arms. trying to hide as his breath washes hot over the twin mounds he's currently spreading open in front of his mouth. he's had every damn part of his boyfriend in his mouth or on his fingers by now, and yet, todoroki still finds something to be embarrassed about. it's stupidly cute. kneeling in front of the bed, one arm after the other encouraging his boyfriend's legs to slide onto his shoulders and rest around his neck and head if he wants, he lets another spindle of saliva roll off his tongue and drip onto the valley of his ass. warm wet touches down in a plop before leaking lower, dribbling over the smooth cleft and finding some leisurely exploration over a puckered star further down.]

Heard that. [man, it's hot when todoroki cusses. one hand slides back, playing over a long thigh and rounded knee and the back of his leg to caress calf and ankle before gripping at his heel for no other reason than tough. leaving his free hand to stay clapped atop one cheek and pull it aside, opening his boyfriend up for his tongue to continue its lazy path. balls. perineum. crack. hole. meeting his own saliva from before with his slick muscle. he circles it around, tip mostly, tracing the clenching ring's perimeter with one round after another. paying attention to every reaction pulled from his usually quiet controlled body. a jerking hip bumps against his mouth, he squeezes his ass cheek harder in encouragement and reprimand.

is it cruel to move? letting go of his rump, he sneaks his hand down the side, wedges his fingers between sheet and hip, and curls them into a fist, encouraging todoroki's waist and rear upward in a quick hike. his dick's been stuck down here for a few seconds, locked between his own clenching stomach and the now-dampening sheets he's so close to humping while he rims him. nah, had a better idea. warm fingers wrap around his erection, taking a moment to admire his sex. thumb across his head, swirling around the sensitive glans, fingers fluting up and down the throbbing shaft as it pulses with each jolt of pleasure. before carefully pulling it down and back. encouraging him to arch his hips more, curve the small of his back, until a final glistening slip tugs his cock between his thighs and catches it against the mattress edge. balls tucked up tight to his taint, turgid shaft driven firmly to the fabric in front of him, effectively locking his hips right where he wants them as precum begins drooling down the material draping towards the floor.]

Wonder how long you'll last like this. [Because now... now he can lower himself until his mouth is right below todoroki's flushed oozing tip. tongue again, pressing to the leaking slit, then up, dragging along the small delta between head and shaft, caressing a wet line up his swollen tract to his stretched sac around his straining orbs, over their sensitive mounds and onto his perineum without having to pause for break. breath heating up his skin as he flattens his tongue in a languid lick up his taint, and once more slides into the warm between his cheeks, not stopping until he's at his hole again. flicking his tongue around and around again, fully determined to drive him nuts with just his mouth.]