pacifisting | dynamight

From:

[The most frustrating part is having Midoriya continue to lavish him with Kacchan while driving him insane. There is nothing more frustrating. He spent half a year already crazy for--what? This? Wild. For someone worth a shit to actually have the balls to manhandle him, not take his twenty-four hour bullshit.

There's only mild resistant when Midoriya shifts them, shifts him. If he wanted to get out of a snowballed One For All, he'd have to be crafty. Though he supposes he could also try to One For All himself, but that'd ruin both their hardons. (Would it?)]

Go to hell! I fucking said your name, you prick! You didn't-- [His breath hitches for a second, and then comes out hissed and messy with his face pressed into the couch.] --fucking say--anything about--being good.

[The hit, though. The hit is punishment enough. He moans, sudden and loud, and maybe not entirely pleasured, and he thinks his heart stops for half a millisecond. It's the power he's been bitchily craving the entire time. Now he's wondering if he's going to be able to handle it. The pale length of skin over his ass is seared red, and his knees tremble. If there isn't a bruise, he'll still be trying to sit awkwardly from the soreness that'll be in his bones.

He can't help the additional, softer moan, or wetness of his mouth with it open and panting.] Make me... [He rolls his eyes back over his arm and shoulder--it's mean to be deviant, but there's a twinge of succumbing.]

From:

pacifisting

You were being a jerk when you said it, doesn't count.

[ That's the noise he wanted. It sure feels like winning a battle when he manages to wring that hitched breath out of him and it feels like he's won a dozen when he gets the startled moans. He knew Bakugou would be into this. (Okay, he didn't know but he has suspicions and he sure as shit wasn't wrong.) ]

You always sound good. [ Pause, as he considers and amends that statement. ] Less so when you're being a jerk, but, ah, I mean specifically, in a...this... context, I guess?

[ Yeah this is why he doesn't try dirty talking. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, Midoriya shuts up and lands another smack, fingers tingling as residual lightning licks at them when he lets them linger against pink skin. Midoriya's own face is flushed faintly, cheeks rosy, freckles standing out against them as he eyes the curve of Bakugou's ass and then his face and lands three more, one after another. They're proper smacks now, not the idle warmup from before. His palm tingles when it's over for the moment and he flexes his fingers consideringly, watching what of Bakugou's face is visible. ]

...You've taken hits from me when I had One for All active but never like this. I wonder how much you or I could take, honestly. [ It's spanking, not physical combat so there's no adrenaline to offset the pain, but he's not sure if it's the pain or the forced submission that's really doing it for Bakugou, either. Bakugou probably will kill him if he gets distracted, though, so he leans over and fits himself against Bakugou from behind, cock resting on top of his cheeks, pressing gentle kisses over the muscle of one shoulder. His voice is deceptively sweet.] If you can take twenty like that without being a jerk, I'll do what you want, but if you want it sooner, you know what to say, Kacchan.

From:

dynamight

The fuck...?

[This damn nerd thinks his name-calling can just be relegated to "doesn't count" because he was being a jerk! WHAT!

He's a second away from getting mad about it, but the smack to his ass reels him right back on the previous path. He gasps and arches, and electricity crackles over the curve of him. His face is hot against the couch, he can tell it himself, and the heat of it just rolls casually down his neck into his chest.]

I can... take whatever you give... Hurry... up... My fucking dick is hurting...!

[But it doesn't help each smack shoves his cock against the side of the couch. It isn't comfortable, but it's stimulation, it's rubbing. Fuck. Midoriya's weight is an addition, and when it settles on him, he pushes back against it hungrily. Warm and firm and as heavy as it should be. Something he's glad he didn't forget.] I don't... give a shit... I can take... twenty. However the fuck... many. [He doesn't think for a second he's going to last for twenty.

Not without running his mouth or, worse, spewing cum over the side of the couch.]

From:

pacifisting

[ He doesn't repeat himself because he figures that indignant question is rhetorical and he doesn't want to wind Bakugou up further. Moments later it's followed up by the angry demand and Midoriya bites into the meat of his shoulder just hard enough to leave an imprint, stifling his own groan at the friction to his cock.

Focus. Midoriya gives one more lazy grind and then forces himself back. Twenty is fair; he knows how strong he is. He's really not worried about doing damage but he's also not sure exactly when fun pain turns into not fun pain. Bakugou'd probably tell him at this point, though, which is a weird reversal of what he'd been worried about. In an exasperated murmur under his breath: You know, that would be really helpful on the field. Telling me where you're hurt.

Bakugou still hasn't conceded, even if he's cheating by rubbing off against the couch. Midoriya knocks a foot between both of Bakugou's and lifts him again while pulling him back. It settles him just far enough away that he can't grind onto the couch anymore but probably isn't the most comfortable. There. Midoriya's a problem solver. ]

Wait for me, Kacchan.

[ It's a command, not a request like it's been so many times over the years. Midoriya lands three strikes in lazy succession afterward, then rubs his fingertips over the hot skin, the prickle of electricity making his hand tickle. It probably wouldn't take much convincing to get Bakugou to do it the other way around next time. May as well make it count.

He presses one last kiss against Bakugou's spine before straightening, the hand not spanking him at the moment now trailing lightly over his leg, the curve of his hip, lightning licking a line behind his fingers. He's going to have to ask him what this feels like, later. Better not to mention that now.]

From:

dynamight

[Dammit. His helpless rub-off against the couch has been seen through, and he really should have expected as much from someone like Midoriya. Well, he did, but it's still just as frustrating when it happens in front of his face so blatantly.

Now he's pulled away and curved nicely over, and he's pretty much on display for the twenty blows Midoriya had promised. The twenty blows he had so readily and stubbornly agreed to handle.

The first three are as popping as the last he had felt. Sparked with One for All's electrical currents trying to connect between them, leaving his skin angry red and faintly purple. His fingers curl into fists, and his legs are, for now, braced even if they're apart. It's fine. It's painful, but it feels good; the fact his cock is agonizingly shifting between his legs, and he just wants to grab it and jerk while Midoriya isn't afraid to show him a little of a heavy hand.

And he can't. He's just made to stand there and feel the burning tingle of his flesh, the crescent of where Midoriya's teeth had been, the drag of the finger trying to steal his attention from the ache in his groin.

The other blows he can take too, even when they increase in intensity. The fisted hands tighten and twist, of course, and the last few before a pause get him to finally moan. It's the rest that give him the hardest time. The ones that come when his cock is the thickest begging thing he can't touch. The moans are jerked between ragged, exhaling breaths, and he drops his head down between his shoulders. It isn't even pain from the wide, calloused palm.

It's the frustration that pulls water to his eyes.

One thigh buckles, but he catches himself with the other leg even if the knees fall together. He doesn't go down, but he breaks right at the cusp of twenty--not from pain, from pleasurable torture. His "alright," is hoarse and barely a whisper. He's forced to say it again, louder:] Alright. [Before taking the time to hiss through his teeth, to let the water bunch out of his eyes.] Fuck... I waited... too long... already.

I'll... be good. [He doesn't give any deviant, shithead look back this time.] My fucking dick... Izuku, please, I just wanna cum, damn!

From:

pacifisting

[ The moment Bakugou jerks and has to catch himself, Midoriya stops. In a heartbeat, the touch gentles and Midoriya is nudging him just enough that instead of Bakugou having to support himself. It's effectively a princess carry, careful to avoid the tender parts of his ass and thighs right now as Midoriya gets them to the bed and settles them. It's easy enough when he can manhandle Bakugou like a bag of groceries and he isn't fighting every step of the way.

They end up on the too-large bed, Midoriya sunken in against the pillows and plush top, Bakugou straddling his waist. It's the most effective way to give him back the control while being careful not to hurt him in Midoriya's mind, which means once they're settled he strokes his fingers over Bakugou's thighs lightly. He swallows back the prickle of power and keeps it to just his hand tracing the hot skin there, running gently along the splotches of red already starting to purple even if he can't see it. ]

You were so good for me, Kacchan. [ Midoriya's voice is low as he reaches for Bakugou's erection and winds his fingers around it lightly, thumbing over the wet head. ] Ah... you're almost as hot here as you are-

[ Where Midoriya was spanking him. Watching Bakugou with wide eyes, Midoriya gives him a few gentle strokes, fingers trailing lazily along the underside while his own cock rests unattended at Bakugou's thigh, hot and leaking. ]

If you want to come just like this, you can.

Edited Date: 2018-12-28 06:51 pm (UTC)

From:

dynamight

[Being helped is, frankly, the worst, but he's been helped so many goddamn times by Midoriya, he'd be almost sad if he wasn't in some way. He growls, weakly, but keeps his face hidden in the crook of Midoriya's neck with his arms draped over the shoulders.

Stradling gives him back some autonomy, but the pressure on his ass and thighs stings, and so his face looks incredibly sour until Midoriya's hand gets a hold of him between the legs.

It's so raw and wanting, he gasps sharply and jumps at the hips. A dark flush breaks out on his cheeks and spreads down his neck into the tops of his chest, though whether it's from the words or the work-up is a mystery. Maybe both. For a moment, all he can do is hang his chin down and close his eyes against the stroking fingers. He'd definitely finish just like this. Easy.

Instead, he stubbornly slaps Midoriya's hand away from himself.] I didn't... fucking come this far... just to get... this far. [He bends over and drops his forehead none too gently against Midoriya's own, popping sparks between their contact. His face is still a disaster from the spanking; it's obvious he had been teary in frustration. It's obvious now he's starving for more than a hand.]

Give me all of it.

From:

pacifisting

Anything, Kacchan.

[ Forget everything else, Midoriya wants to bundle him up in blankets and kiss him forever to make him keep making those noises. His hand is smacked away and a laugh escapes him, his hand curling over Bakugou's hip instead. The fact that he's doing this isn't a surprise; Bakugou's one of the only people in the world Midoriya would imagine turning an orgasm down at this point, after everything.

He's not going to argue, though. Midoriya gropes for the lubrication from the drawer and doesn't waste any time in warming it up on his fingers even if he does fumble the container once, twice, giving Bakugou an apologetic look. It's a mistake for a different reason; when they're face to face he's hyper-aware of Bakugou's wet cheeks and the prickle of electricity between them. More than that: he's aware of just how good Bakugou looks like this. A little flicker of shame curls through him, not sure if he should find this hot or not, but his dick sure as hell doesn't care and Bakugou's enjoyed this so far. ]

Sitting down is going to be an adventure later. Tell me when you're- when you're ready.

[ Idle talk to distract himself and Bakugou as he brings wet fingertips between Bakugou's thighs. There's no teasing, no drawing it out; if the spanking was punishment, this is the reward. One finger shifts into two and Midoriya tilts his head up, winds his fingers into Bakugou's hair to start trading messy kisses while he works him open. ]

From:

dynamight

It’s your fucking fault... if it is...

[For the time being, Bakugou doesn’t move. His face changes gently as Midoriya prepares him, but he keeps their foreheads together. The lingering sore skin distracts from the pain of the fingers, but even them, the hurt of it reminds him of what he’s truly pressing through for. The delicious prize at the end.

The pinched brows level out, and his exhales ends in a faint moan that’s swallowed up by Midoriya’s lips. Another good distraction. Something to keep him going. The return kisses are surprisingly slow. A steady, rather vanilla taste of Midoriya’s mouth. But he gets antsy, and the kisses get momentarily deeper. He pulls away, kisses Midoriya’s jaw, neck, and then he pulls back completey.] Enough, dammit. [He isn’t so weepy anymore. Leaning up, he keeps most of his weight on his knees and a palm on the center of Midoroya’s chest.] I’m ready.

I’m... not comin’ until... you do first.

[If Midoriya thought this wasn’t going to be at least a little of a competition.]

From:

pacifisting

Mmmm, it is.

[ He doesn't sound like he's sorry at all. Instead, that mmm is drawn out, smug, pleased.

This is what he wants to record. The subtle way Bakugou's face changes when Midoriya twists his fingers deeper, or the way it's like the spanking earlier sanded away all of Bakugou's harsh edges. It's not to a point of complacency, but the difference is still obvious to Midoriya and there's no small amount of pleasure causing that, too. ]

I'll just have to hold out, then.

[ Assuming he doesn't come literal seconds after he finally gets in Bakugou. A slick hand curls around himself and then there's the wet press of fingers, the tip of Midoriya's cock pushing against Bakugou's hole. He's absolutely not going to be able to last long, not when it's been forever and he's been hard for ages. Both feet brace against the bed and he wipes his fingers off on the sheets so he can curl semi-dry ones around the hand on his chest, smiling up at him. His other hand curls slowly around Bakugou's cock, working over him how he likes it but much, much slower. ]

From:

dynamight

Tch. You cocky... bastard...

[Luckily for Midoriya, Bakugou is definitely not going to last as long as he thinks he can. Especially when Midoriya’s hands loop around his already painfully wanting cock. God. No—] Fuck...

[Bucking forward gives him more room to sit back down, and doing so draws out a tight-lipped moan. Sitting fully over Midoriya’s thighs rubs a pleasant hurt in his muscles. He moans about that, too, quiet and only mildly irritable. At first, it seems like he tries to twist his hand away from the one on his own, but he instead twines their fingers, shifts their hands together to bed by Midoriya’s shoulder. It gives him an angle without losing any room for Midoriya to play with him.

He can pull forward and sit back to his heart’s content, and Midoriya’s hand can stay wrapped around his dick. Both wrench the best pinch to his face—eyes closed, lips parted. The swell of red reaching into his face is clear indication he’s enjoying himself regardless of whatever he may say during the course.

Except he’s not saying much of anything when all his throat will let him do is give Midoriya trickling, subdued moans.]

From:

pacifisting

[ Later, Midoriya's going to bully Bakugou into allowing him to go over his arms. He didn't crack or hurt anything as far as he's aware, but being held that long in that position probably means they'll be stiff when the high from all of this fades. For the moment, Midoriya presses a lingering kiss to the arm by his head as if he could heal just like Recovery Girl. ]

You're....you're so good, Kacchan.

[ His wrist twists between them, knuckles brushing over Bakugou's belly. ]

You were perfect for me earlier, too.

[ Midoriya's thumb swipes over the head lightly, and he lifts himself up enough that he can steal a kiss from parted lips. There's a flash of tongue and a flicker of lighting like Midoriya's trying to french an outlet rather than Bakugou. It's not bad, just — weird. Vaguely minty, which is weirder. Midoriya runs his tongue along his teeth and nearly bites his tongue off when Bakugou rolls his hips a certain way. ]

There's no one else I'd rather have here with me, Katsuki.

[ It's not an I love you during sex, but it is said earnestly, honestly. He steals one more peck before leaning back down, feet digging into the bed to fuck up into Bakugou's next thrust down, shaking sweat-damp curls out of his eyes. The city will be the safest it's ever been with the both of them here, and they'll both learn a lot, they'll return better heroes for it. They'll both be steps closer to being number one. ]

From:

dynamight

[It’s not an I love you, but it’s the best thing Midoriya can give him. Bakugou gets it, at least, the depth of it, and he searches Midoriya’s eyes back and forth almost like he’s trying to find some kind of catch waiting for him. Nothing comes. The heat stays trapped in his face, and it’s nearly the same color as his spanked back end.

Midoriya doesn’t get any spitfire words. Most seem to have failed him. There’s a lot going on; sex, his cock, their fingers, Midoriya’s talking, and the kisses he can’t and won’t dodge. He returns the kisses, a single focused hard one and the rest half aware messes. The moan that pops out of him is raw and telling, and he swallows after.

Then he slowly sits up and sits back. The clasped hands he clenches on his thigh, his other hand comes down on Midoriya’s forearm to stop the one stroking him without pulling it away. He has to squeeze his eyes shut and rolls his head back, chest labored and breathless. For a long moment, he is still and quiet, and then he brings his head down without opening his eyes. He’s so!!! frustrated!!!]

Dammit... [His voice is surprisingly soft.] I’m... gonna fucking come, Izuku... [Another pause.] Fuck it... You do this... to me... every time...

[His hand releases Midoriya’s forearm, but the other stays tangled in Midoriya’s hand. He pushes on it, forcing Midoriya to push back and give him the stability to stay upright while beginning again to lift and lower his hips. This time, he sits deep and moves fast. Three, with Midoriya’s hand on his cock, is all it takes. Tendrils of green energy skitter over open planes of his skin, his shoulders, his thighs, looping down his arms. He doesn’t call out, but his fingers tighten and his face pinches. His lips part the moment the sweltering heat hardens in his groin, but the moaning only starts when it spreads out through him.

The shot isn’t much of a shot; there’s no arc or length. But it’s a lot of pent-up restraint. A tablespoon or more, spilling out over Midoriya’s hand and stomach with each ragged, hissing exhale. He has to grab Midoriya’s arm again, not to stop or move it, but hold it just right so he can fuck the orgasm out in the squeezing fingers, groaning, Fuuuuuckkk as he does.

The relief of it actually makes him cry. It’s good and well earned, and damn he’s happy, but fuck he’s emotionally constipated, so all he can do is let the silent waterfall go without once stopping his rise and fall on Midoriya’s cock.]

From:

pacifisting

[ The messy kisses where they're both so distracted it's more a tangle of tongue and a smear of lips are his favorite. To be fair, he's thought that about every single thing they've done at least once, so it's with a grain of salt. ]

...Are you okay? [ Midoriya's is soft in turn, not quite sure if he ought to be helping out here or touching him or talking to him, but no, Bakugou keeps talking and Midoriya tenses his arm accommodatingly when Bakugou pushes at it, catching what he means instantly.

They should have recorded this. Maybe not this attempt at it since there are a million things Midoriya wants to do differently upon reflection, but this, Bakugou riding his cock, riding him into the bed. The way his body twists over Midoriya's own, the noises everything drags out of him. When he finally comes it's not an explosion, there's no chaos to it, there's just the wet spill over Midoriya's fingers and Bakugou's belly. He never looks soft but this is as soft as Midoriya's ever seen him really. ]

You're — oh, Kacchan—

[ He doesn't know what he intends to say or what he was going for, distracted and scattered between focusing on the drip of tears splattering hot between them and the way Bakugou hasn't stopped despite orgasm. His own feels like it's pulled from him in a rush moments later; he manages to push his feet into the bed and fuck up into the next couple thrusts properly, but there's no grace to it. It's messy and sloppy and Midoriya has to hide half his face into the pillow with a strangled noise that's almost a whine. He's given up the grip on Bakugou's cock to grab for his thigh, fingers pressing bruises into them while he rides it out and traces the lingering flickers of green lightning bouncing off and between each other.

The moment he has enough sense to move, though, he's winding a hand at the nape of Bakugou's neck and tugging him in until their foreheads touch and he can ghost kisses over his face, the bridge of his nose, the corner of his lips. ]

From:

dynamight

[Breathless, he hangs over Midoriya's middle and tries to level himself. Everything is hazy, sore, excellent. He's full, and he's full, and then his forehead clacks against Midoriya's with a small pop of energy that tickles him so much from crown to toes he moans.

The kisses are less sloppy than before and mostly lazy when he returns them. He doesn't care about the tears; for now, he's stopped crying and does little more than sniffle once, loud, and keep a red, wet and salty face.

Carefully, he shifts forward and comes off--out?--before settling back again, and then his head drops down into the crook of Midoriya's warm and damp neck.] I missed you, dammit, you piece of shit. [His voice is hoarse and quiet, and he shoves both arms under the backs of Midoriya's shoulders to squeeze the two of them together and dig his fingers into the sheets.

He's smelling too sweet, all sweat without it being terribly gross. He keeps his face hidden, but presses it in enough for it to count as a nuzzle, his lashes whisps when his eyes close.]

Shit...

From:

pacifisting

[ Every inch of him is over-sensitive after orgasm in the best way possible. Bakugou shifts, lifts himself off and then settles against Midoriya like an over-large blanket that smells like candy. It's great. ]

I missed you too, Kacchan.

[ Oh, no, hugs. His greatest weakness. Midoriya makes a wet noise into Bakugou's shoulder as he winds both arms around him tightly, holding him. It's like it sinks in for real after all of this. They're both here together and when Bakugou leaves, it's with Midoriya. They're staying here and leaving together.

There's no clock counting time down until he has to go months without seeing him again, no flight that's going to take Bakugou away a thousand miles until they're left with Skype calls and jerking off on the phone. He's here.

The hug shifts into something less desperately affectionate and more gentle; Midoriya's hand combs through Bakugou's sweatdamp hair, while the other smooths down his back, petting the line of his spine with rough fingers. If his eyes well up and spill over a little bit, it's just the relief and exhaustion mixing with everything else. ]

From:

dynamight

[Shut up, nerd, just hug him and don't point it out. He doesn't want to think about the fact he's actively seeking snuggles and hugs from Izuku Midoriya--he just wants it to happen without any fanfare. Let him have this.

Purposefully, to soak it in, he doesn't move for a long time. Not until the two of them are dried and lax and full of the breath they had lost being together and being stupid.

Finally, he presses his palms into the bed and untangles himself so he can sit back. Naturally, he grimaces a little; his ass is the sorest it's been in... maybe forever. Taking Midoriya's slaps hadn't been a big deal until he's left without adrenaline and an ass full of bruises. Rather than bare his teeth, he sighs in exasperation, but doesn't reach back to rub anything.] Damn. [They're a fucking disaster.

His fingers brush up over the plane of his stomach. Everything is dry, but still dirty. The red eyes skirt from his thighs up to Midoriya's face, searching for nothing in particular. He reaches out; instead of being rough, his fingers grace the edges of the freckled cheeks with a kind of appraising affection, falling down over the lips, the chin.]

I'm gonna shower.

From:

pacifisting

[ Midoriya dozes in and out, orgasm-drunk and sleepy, listening to the steady breathing of Bakugou next to him. It's comforting but itchy as sweat and fluids dry on their skin. When Bakguou finally does end up moving, Midoriya makes a disgruntled noise of protest and rests a hand against the top of a thigh, tracing idly back and forth, stealing a kiss from the hand that presses against his face. ]

Mnnhhh, or you could take a bath with me.

[ It's a request that's uttered through a yawn, Midoriya stretching underneath him, palms pressing against the headboard as he squirms underneath and starts to force himself to wake up.

He should get up, should shower and take the dog out and do the things he needs to do but Barkugou isn't complaining and the idea of lounging in the frankly obscenely sized tub with Bakugou is appealing for a variety of reasons. ]

From:

dynamight

Tch.

[With a surprising partial smirk at the corner of his lips. He feels good enough to not bother with being much of an asshole. Satisfied, relaxed.

His fingers tip off Midoriya's chin and trail down the neck, over the collar, between the middle valley of the chest.] Fine. I'm laying on you, though. [He stops his fingers just at the peak of Midoriya's navel, and then he clambers off to the floor unsteadily.

At first, he turns around to lead them along, but stops half a foot before going back and getting into Midoriya's space again. His knees thump the edge of the bed, and he reaches to tangle his fingers into Midoriya's hair. Their heads are pulled in close.]

Next time, I'm bending you over my knees.

From:

pacifisting

[ Midoriya's stomach does a series of flips and twists at something as ridiculous as Bakugou's smirk and accompanying hand, squirming when it's gone. It's not fair how Bakugou just knows how to do that to him. ]

Not much of a threat.

[ He grimaces a little as he sits up, a little stiff from where he'd fallen wrong onto the coffee table but before he can get too far Bakugou's got a hand in his hair. Midoriya's breath catches despite himself and he lets himself get pulled into place while a hand braces on the curve of his hip, sliding back to smooth just his fingertips over where he'd landed strikes earlier.

After a moment of just admiring Bakugou's face, he tries to steal a kiss against the hand in his hair as a lever.]

Is that a threat Kacchan? [ He hopes it's a promise. Midoriya's fingers touch gingerly just above the curve of Bakugou's ass, lightning crawling along his fingertips.] Next time, but you'll have to win.

From:

dynamight

[The challenge is not what Midoriya needs to be issuing. Bakugou just eats it up without even breathing; the fire in his eyes is everything. His fist tightens in Midoriya's hair momentarily, and his breath hitches from the depth the soreness reaches when Midoriya's fingers rub his skin.

He steals more than a peck when he devours Midoriya's mouth.

When he pulls away, he shoves Midoriya in the chest gently, trying to push Midoriya back on the bed and get a lead on going to the bathroom.] I'm a hero. I always win. [The glint is still there when he smirks back over his shoulder, but he doesn't stop in the journey to the bathroom.

The worst thing about America is usually showers and bathtubs aren't always split. The best thing about rich America is there's a fancy shower and a bathtub. He can run the bath for them easily while also waiting to drag Midoriya into the shower to scrub off.]

From:

pacifisting

[ His breath hitches, catches in his throat and Bakugou is kissing him, stealing the rest of the breath straight from his lungs. The kiss combined with the gentle shove does exactly what it's supposed to; Midoriya goes where he's pushed with a dopey smile and it takes him a second to realize that Bakguou's continued on. ]

Do heroes cheat now by kissing as a distraction?

[ Please, like he wasn't the one cheating and using Katsuki between praise. It's absolutely fair and Midoriya is already vaulting off of the bed to catch up with him, pressing smacking, over-exaggerated kisses to Bakguou's shoulder when the other beats him. ]

You know I sent a picture of all of this to the group chat and Yaoyorozu called it - I think she said 'quaint'? Todoroki called it gaudy.

[ The bathtub is massive but next to it is a showering area with the double heads and rainfall. It's extravagant, like an overdone hotel, but Midoriya can't say he's upset about having a massive bath to come and sit in when he's off duty and his whole body is a bruise.

On the wall, there's a panel which he presses a red arrow on, and a second red arrow appears which he also presses. The bath is stoppered and the water turned on, the shower following a moment after. It doesn't take long for the room to get humid around them, fog creeping up the mirror. ]

The floors are programmable. So if you get up earlier or later than me, you just set it to the hours you want it hot, and it'll preheat your towels for when you get out of the shower, too.

[ Bakugou it's insane. ]

From:

dynamight

[Bakugou, even with all the conveniences of Japan, with the conveniences of richer Japan, is surprised. He wants to be offended and call this a lack of being humble, but there’s really no boasting or strutting unless someone is actually in the room, so...

Under his breath, he mutters something while Midoriya pushes the buttons. His eyes flick back and forth, watching what kinds of crazy things light up for them when activated.] This is fucking ridiculous. Halfy wasn’t wrong. This is gaudy as hell. [At the shower, he inspects the design of it and then sticks his hand beneath the water to test it. Damn. Everything is too fancy. He feels almost grimey—at least for the time being.

But the water is nice, and he’s tired, and he wants to wash off. So he steps halfway in and turns to peer back at Midoriya.] Hurry up if you wanna fucking get in the bath. Come on. [He could just rinse off himself, but he wants to annoy Midoriya with his presence even in the shower. This time really. He’ll give Midoriya breaks from him later.

The nerd deserves it for spanking his ass raw and making it awkward for him to sit now.]

From:

pacifisting

[ Mr. Stark hasn't heard the word humble in years, probably. Midoriya's kind of over it, or at the very least he likes the conveniences this offers. ]

It's... excessive.

[ It'll be really, really nice to be home where the most exciting thing is a warmed toilet seat, which somehow places here don't have. They can heat the floors and towels but that's it, apparently.

Midoriya goes where he's beckoned, sliding the door shut behind him and steps under the spray, curls flattening against his head. He blinks water out of his eyes and grins at Bakugou, already reaching for the soap to lather his hands up and start working over Bakugou. He's helping. He certainly doesn't look annoyed, just soft. ]

It's supposed to snow next month, too. Too bad they don't make winter jackets of heroes, yet, unless it fits with their Quirk.

[ :( ]

From:

dynamight

[Thankfully, he’s love-drunk enough to be a rather mellow cat. When Midoriya attacks him with hands and soap, he’s too busy being lulled by the water’s warth and the sight of how attractive Midoriya looks soaked, hair pushed back so all of the bright and freckled face can be seen. For a bit, Bakugou looks decidedly stupid as the hands roam some of his body.

All he can do is hum and half-lid his eyes, the tips of his fingers gracing Midoriya’s hips to keep him balanced.

Is he going to last long enough for the bath?] Nn—hey. [The warning is lazy, but he twitches slightly when Midoriya’s hands tickle by his ribs on each side. The sensation is pleasantly arousing but mostly a nuisance—he’a ticklish a little, even stacked, sue him. Getting partially hard again is hilarious, but mostly telling: he’s enjoying being pampered despite as much fuss as he makes sometimes about being touched. And maybe this is why.]

Don’t need... mm... a jacket. Gotta sweat, idiot... Just need a... shirt... that won’t wick m’sweat...

[Jesus. His soft moan is an ache, and he stands a little straighter when Midoriya’s hands pass over the flesh of his abused ass. Technically, he asked for it. But Midoriya got him good, and it hurts to tighten the muscles.]