entreri: (Default)
☆ pax, the tiny ☆ ([personal profile] entreri) wrote in [community profile] calimport2017-09-06 08:40 pm



( [personal profile] koka )
hothead: (KACCHAN 035)

[personal profile] hothead 2017-09-07 12:53 am (UTC)(link)

koka: ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ. (pic#11708414)

[personal profile] koka 2017-09-07 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
[ -- well, shit.

How come fate, or destiny, or whatever dealt the hand you played had it out so bad for him? His classmate, rad partner, best pal. In one hand, he held the back of Bakugou's shirt, fingers clenched tight into a fist - as though he'd be able to hold the guy back if he chose to lunge. Cradled in his other, carefully held in his palm, was the fragile glass syringe that had delivered god-knew what sort of drug straight into his buddy. It reminds him of the bullets, in a way. Silly, unfinished little pieces of something meant to level the playing field ( no, That Guy said it was to "destroy justice", as if justice was a physical thing and not the heart and soul of the people ).

The heart and soul of this guy, the one he's frantic to make sure is okay.

Kirishima touches a hand to the back of the dude's head, where it's slick and matted with blood. They're left, battered and busted up pretty bad, where they'd struggled to some sort of victory. Some sort of neutrality, more like it. He feels like they barely survived. The undersides of his arms, where he'd blocked the worst of a pretty gnarly kick that put them both through a window and down three stories, are bleeding. Mingling with the stains on the back of his buddy's neck and shoulders, and with a heave-ho, he lifts Bakugou's face off the pavement and tries to find his eyes. ]

Yo, you awake? You okay, bro! [ please be okay what's happening to you NOW ] Say something!
hothead: (Default)

[personal profile] hothead 2017-09-08 12:08 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's be a stretch to say they'd been doing a great job before the guy pulled the syringe, but they'd at least been holding their ground. Afterwards, he loses time; the inconsequential stab of the needle, the uncomfortable, hot-heavy spread of chemicals under skin, the sudden lurch of consciousness fading out. He's dimly aware of red hair and hands firm on his shoulders — Kirishima — then they're both knocked back, and the disorientation actually saves him the trouble of feeling the impact when they hit the ground.

—you awake? Yes. He hears it, feels his hackles bristle with irritation when an answer feels like pulling teeth. His pupils are blown when he finally drags some focus back to his classmate. He can see red at the corner of his vision, knows it's blood because he's seen it before, and the realization that he's gotten his ass thoroughly kicked makes his temper twist in his gut. ]

[ He's going for fine. The word's chased out by an abrupt surge of heat that feels like flames licking up his wrists. Bakugou's gaze skips down to his hands as sparks crackle across his palms like they're trying to ignite, and it's too much— they're in the city, Kirishima's right here. The only reason his Quirk isn't a liability is because of control. Losing it feels like a thread unraveling, like one too many drinks, and the shock of it drowns out the rest of his injuries. He sits up quickly enough to earn a protest from bruised ribs, roughly elbowing Kirishima out of the way in the process. ] What the hell—
hothead: (KACCHAN 035)

[personal profile] hothead 2017-09-07 12:55 am (UTC)(link)

koka: ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ. (pic#11708408)

this is how i've chosen to live my life

[personal profile] koka 2017-09-07 03:49 am (UTC)(link)

Kirishima's the one who gets off his ass, and makes the first move, in the end. He knows the layout of the dorms in his heart, by the third day. It's Shouji on one side of him, and it's Bakugou on the other. There's nobody else besides Bakugou -- and that's what makes this shit so obscenely easy. Finding his way out of his dorm room, shortly after curfew and everyone else has scrubbed up, finished their homework. It's the witching hour, when he can slip out of his room and head next door. Some nights, he has to knock quietly and call through the door's seam to be let in. Some nights, like tonight, the door's jimmied by a thick strip of paper, kept from closing all the way.

It's a cool as hell invitation 'cause the paper's red. It's meant for him.

That's how he ends up in Bakugou's bed, some nights. When they're not too busy, when they're not grinding their gears over homework or Villain Alliances or what crazy challenges the next day will bring. When they're just -- stupidly horny, and he's got his mouth on Bakugou's and his hands wrapped around the guy's wrists, pinning him to the bed. ( It's real nice, kissing him. He kisses like he fights, and Kirishima's pulse goes wild when he feels the blunt edge of the guy's teeth. It reminds him to be careful with his own; they're sharp, made sharper by his Quirk. ) Tonight, he's got both his wrists held in one hand. Pinned up above his head, close to the top of his mattress, and his hips nestled snug between Bakugou's.

Sweatpants are a godsend, without a doubt.

His other hand's jammed down the front of the guy's pants, getting cozy with the soft skin along the inside of his thigh and the sharp crease of his hip, where he's warm and hidden away from view for now. He's got to be careful, no matter what - people'll talk if Bakugou's laundry starts turning up with rips and tears in it, if Kirishima isn't mindful of where his edges and angles go when he gets mindless and frisky. Why do you make me take all your clothes off, he wonders softly, mouthing along the line of the guy's throat. We could save time. Because they're horny teenagers ffs. ]
hothead: (FANART 003)


[personal profile] hothead 2017-09-07 05:43 am (UTC)(link)
[ ok but also fuck Todoroki because lbr this is probably 20% about him anyway

The best part about what they're doing is that there isn't a lot of talking involved. Kirishima shows up and one of them gets handsy, then it's game on. Which isn't to say it's thoughtless or pointless or meaningless — they express plenty, between the crescent shaped dents left in skin by their nails or the aggressive one-upmanship. It's a good way to blow off steam, like venting about a shitty day at work or school with your partner, just with a lot more sweat and very few actual words.

Bakugou could throw him off right now. He doesn't want to. He likes the strength in his hand, the way it presses his own wrists together, and there's no real urgency to push back. He bucks up against Kirishima's other hand instead, his teeth gritting in frustration as sharp teeth tease at his exposed neck. He pulls at the restraining hand slightly, but it's mostly for show. The itch in his palms that signals a loss of temper is easy to keep in check. ]

Idiot— [ It'd be a long, long stretch to say it's said affectionately. Gently antagonistic, maybe. He twists his hips as he speaks, impatient, and it's difficult to tell what exactly the cause of offense is. That Kirishima's being too slow, maybe. Too soft. That he's giving Bakugou a chance to speak at all instead of kissing him to keep him quiet. ]
koka: ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ. (pic#11708408)

[personal profile] koka 2017-09-07 06:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[ excuse you this better not be even remotely about icyhot when he's not the one with his hand down your pants Right This Moment

Idiot, Bakugou calls him, and his reaction is a widening of his smile, the flashing of teeth against vulnerable throat as a brief, bold laugh wracks his body. By now, he gets him. The way he talks, how he treats people - none of it compares to what the guy holds in his heart. ( Bravado! Strength! Determination! All those things that make a man. ) Kirishima's hands tug at clothes, shoving a shirt up higher to expose a strip of belly and torso, and he folds at the waist to bring his mouth there next. Teeth against the arch of a hipbone, tongue sliding through the dip of Bakugou's navel. Don't have to tell him to pick up the pace, in far less words than that.

He takes hold of the guy's hips, those impatient, twisting hips and bodily flips him. Drags him onto his front with a show of swift, sharp force and spreads his weight over the back of his thighs, straddling him with his own dick -- his hellishly interested dick -- shoved up snug against the curve of his classmate's ass. Hello, is that better? Kirishima leans in, practically blanketing Bakugou with his own body, and sinks his teeth -- not deep, but noticeably into the skin at the nape of his neck. Just out of sight, provided Bakugou was conscious enough to keep his shirt collar high and tight for the next few days. ]

Mhrgdasdf? -- [ don't talk with your mouth full kirishima what the everloving fuck ] I meant: you got the stuff?
hothead: (Default)

[personal profile] hothead 2017-09-07 11:31 pm (UTC)(link)
Hn— [ The frustrated noise is a clear green light, and as soon as Bakugou's hands are free he absently flexes them, testing his control. He digs his fingers into red hair when Kirishima ducks lower, urging him on, the muscles of his stomach going taut as a hot tongue sweeps over sensitive skin.

His grip goes tight — pulling, maybe just shy of uncomfortable. He's gearing up to do something when Kirishima beats him to it, and it's surprisingly easy to sideline instinctive response and let his classmate manhandle him, strong hands on his hips, the sudden twist of sheets against his side before he's pressed down against the mattress. He loses his hold on Kirishima in the process, and there's a trace of irritation in the way he grasps at the bedding.

The press of Kirishima's cock is a stark contrast to a day full of straightforward fighting, invasive in a way that makes his stomach flip. Then there's teeth on his neck, sharp, enough pressure to leave a mark; the noise he makes can only really be called a growl, and his fingers dig deeper into the mattress as he resists the urge to shove that solid weight off, shifting just enough to press back against Kirishima's heavy weight instead. ]
— nightstand.

[ It's always in the nightstand. He finds the ritual a little grating, the way he's forced to verbalize anything when his brain's already shifted gears. Then again, maybe that's half the appeal; give and take here isn't like give and take in a fight. Winning isn't about who's on top. It's just about what he wants, and this is it. ]
hothead: (Default)

[personal profile] hothead 2017-09-07 01:02 am (UTC)(link)