TOO FULL OF LIFE TO BE HALF LOVED

THIN LINE (1.4k)

— pro hero!bakugou katsuki x vigilante!reader

warnings: blood mention, stabbing mention, tension, kiss, friends w benefits possibly?

“i fuckin’ knew it was you. it’s always you.”

you clutch the bleeding gash on your arm, chest heaving and mouth gaped open, inhaling any clean air you can get. you’re crouched down against a random wall in a back alley, makeshift hero— fine, vigilante— outfit practically torn to shreds. your own glass being thrown back at you with the villains wind quirk. if only your genes included anti penetrable skin to go with your glass quirk. you can produce glass sheets at will, the thicker and bigger the sheets the more taxing on your body. you’re sure you could do different shapes if you were professionally trained but you weren’t. not like the pro hero bothering you right now.

dynamight, the number three pro hero, didn’t currently look like dynamight, nor bakugou, the man out of the suit. this man, huge and stocky in proportions, is katsuki, in his black surgical mask, black knitted beanie and black hoodie zipped to the top. the ruby eyes and the dirty blonde of his hair peeks out, the only colour you can see in this dark and dingy back alley.

you won’t lie, you’re happy to see him tonight.

bakugou hates rehab. it makes him feel like a baby learning to walk. they force him to lift weights that weigh the same as mangos and he has to do these stretches that he sees the elderly do when he does nursing home visits.

this stretching class, it’s exactly how he expects. a class full of women. about 13 of them, majority elderly with their leggings and sleeveless jackets. there’s two other women in the corner a few years older than him but they don’t even look bakugou’s way. and then you.

definitely his type. his type to a t, so much so that it’s a little painful to look at you. you wave to the instructor at the front and frown at bakugou.

“we never get guys here,” you pull off your joggers to reveal skin tight leggings, “especially ones like you.”

he doesn’t know if he should be offended or if he’s in the wrong here. your eyes flick up and down his body. still massively muscled. thick tape over his biceps. a knee band on his left.

“i uh—,”

and the class starts, with this relaxing, walking in the forest music and you forget bakugou’s even beside you. he’s still dumbly looking at you like he needs to reply but he’s taken a second too long and missed his chance.

you in your leggings, sports bra and light gym top. he can see the purple racer back of your bra under your top. he wants to talk to you. ask you if you were being rude there or are you always that blunt to strangers?

he copies everyone by standing behind his own black dynamight official merchandise gym mat. everyone else is using the dingy brown gym logo ones.

bakugou can only think that this is why you don’t want men in this class because he wants to look at you through the mirror opposite you both. he won’t though because it would be embarrassing for you to open your eyes mid stretch and find him staring. but your mat is right beside him, you are right beside him. he wants to figure you out, make ominous comments for you to think about minutes after they’ve happened.

the instructor tells the room to stretch their arms above their heads and to breathe in through the nose and out the mouth. there’s no competition in the room like there usually is when he trains with his friends. he can’t remember the last time he’s been to the local gym that smells like sweaty metal and the wallpapers peeling off the walls. everyone’s at different levels, some barely able to stretch their arms straight, others shaking and some just doing what they can.

you, when he does peep over, look like you’re in your own world. he can hear your soft breaths beside him, the crack in your knee when you all move to the next position.

he tries to be normal when he’s laying flat on the ground and then twists to stretch his hips because you let out this little sweet, “fuck.”

bakugou’s not even facing you when you say it but amongst the somewhat calming music that crackles through the cheap speakers, he can still hear it. it doesn’t get him hard because he’s grown enough to have some sense and context. it was a good stretch for you. but his eyes widen and his body stiffens

it’s embarrassing when bakugou can’t do a basic stretch of his leg due to his accident. has him grumbling under his breath when the instructor helps him into place and a few old ladies turn to look at him. he huffs when he lets out a groan and you giggle at him. fucking giggle.

it’s even worse when he mishears left for right and he ends up facing you for a stretch.

his eyes are ping pong balls, pupils bouncing from you to the wall to his feet then your lips then your eyes. but instead of spinning the right way, he just stays facing you. he feels worthy when you laugh, lucky when you make a comment.

“wrong way, silly.”

it feels like you’re flirting. is he so stupid that a woman talking to him feels like flirting? maybe he just wishes you were.

he stares at you when you inhale, when you shut him out by sliding your eyes closed to concentrate. then how your chest softens with the exhale. bakugou looks away at the end of the countdown so you don’t catch him looking.

the session is only half an hour and when it gets to the end, he wants to ask for your name. or your number. he can’t do that, you come here to stretch not find a boyfriend. don’t people do that at gyms all the time? aren’t gyms just dating breeding grounds? he hasn’t even said a word to you yet.

the instructor turns the music off and without that filling the empty space bakugou is scrambling for purchase. but you’re already up to hang the gym mat on the wall and grabbing your bag in the corner.

“see you next week jim!”

said to the instructor. then you look at bakugou, again your eyes flicker up and down his body. he can’t tell if you’re laughing at him or still confused to why he’s in this class or if you like what you see. he gets a short nod and a small smile from you. then you turn around before he can even reply.

he hasn’t even rolled up his mat yet.

jim walks over to him, “dynamight! i know that probably wasn’t your usual speed but rehab will be similar to that. i can message your team for your free days and we can get our sessions booked in the calendar.”

“i wanna come back to these sessions.”

jim frowns, “at the gym? your one on ones will be at home, personalised to fit your care.”

“we can do both? or i can do these, it’s the same shit anyway isn’t it?”

bakugou rubs his top lip against his septum. is he really fucking up his rehab journey for the chance to see you again? maybe.

“i say we do both, dynamight. good to know you enjoyed my session here. i only do these for free to help the community.”

bakugou nods, half paying attention. he’s learnt this skill from being surrounded by friends that talk more than necessary. he wonders if he should ask jim your name? no that might be creepy if you find out. no it isn’t. maybe he can catch you on your way out. or maybe you’ve gone into the workout space? oh fuck, he’s too late again isn’t he?

okay you sent this during my gym phase, i was literally on the way to the gym and in my gym class i kept getting distracted thinking about this…..

i’m gonna give a bunch on random thoughts. IM THINKING gym instructor bakugou who has expensive ass rates because EVERYONE sees results with him. also he’s FINE AS HELL so people want to work with him, just his face and thighs are extra motivation. he’s got his business card and his go to phrase is something like “if you want someone who says it how it is.” “short term pain for long term results.”

and his emails are full with people who wanna work with him. saying how they wanna get an ass, wanna get their dream body, wanna get stronger. a few hookup messages… he gets so many offers he picks and chooses who he wants to work with and defo says no to a few people after the first session. women that are clearly there to flirt and not work out. men who don’t have their heart in it.

i like to imagine you only started going to the gym because it’s a company perk. free membership with your work so you end up going and SINCE it’s free, you could maybe pay for a gym instructor. scanning the wall with the faces of all instructors and bakugou’s got his gorgeous little profile picture of him frowning with his arms crossed, it’s his tag line that get you. “tough love.” you need that. sure you like a little bit of yoga maybe some walking or jogging. but you’re not about to push yourself on your own.

so your email to bakugou is short and sweet. something about needing real life motivation and help on technique. also you want to get stronger. then lastly you wouldn’t mind building your ass.

bakugou likes the honesty, reads the email with an upside down lipped impressed look.

(also it’s a big thing where i live anyway that men don’t trust women with personal trainers because they’re known to have affairs with them??) anyway bakugou is sooo professional, hence the cutting it off when there’s a hint of flirtation.

but meeting you in your big tshirt, trainers and leggings. hand out to shake his hand. ooooweeeee. he’s already thinking about what he’s going to say in the email that he won’t be continuing with you any longer because this time he’s attracted to you. he’s not working with a hard on while you do some basic squats or listening to you groan when he forces you to lift a heavy weight.

you find him attractive too. the picture is nothing on him irl. the frown imprinted on his features. his arms crossed with these bulging biceps and thick veins on his forearms. he’s tall, over six foot and in a tight black tee and black shorts. black socks and black trainers. even his hair is pretty, blonde and fluffy, thick dark eyelashes. you think about how he’d hug you… not that he would. maybe how he’d touch your back when putting you in place… in the gym!

anyway you basically recite your email to him. you mention how you wanna get stronger, feel better physically in your body, he nods, tells you in a deep growl that he can do that. then you mention how you don’t mind having a fatter ass, a thing he’s heard before, bare in mind, but he bites down on his bottom lip. your pretty little face, chatting, swinging your water bottle by your side. he wants to flick his eyes down to your ass. see what he’s working with here. luckily your tshirt is big enough that he can’t see it.

but he does say, “it’s better if you wear tighter clothes. then we can see what muscles you’re workin and any gains….,” then he frowns to himself, he’d say this to a guy right… he would!! “if you’re comfortable.”

and you’re smiling up at him, excited, funny that you’re not going to be so excited a few weeks in bakugou’s little boot camp.

“yes sure!”

“then i can make anythin’ happen.”

you mention how you don’t want to get shouted at. he adapts to make his language FIRM!!! still swears though. “you have somewhere to be after? go slower! feel the burn in your calves.”

“three more!” “you said ten!” “and i know you can do three more reps. now.”

- quick fire. bakugou shares no personal information about himself. you defo ask him a few questions. if he grew up around here, if he lives far, what got him into training people. and you either get one word or “stop fuckin’ around. you’re not gonna get a fat ass askin’ about my childhood.”

that makes you pout.

he’s lowkey a little nicer to you than his other clients but still harsh LOL making you do pull ups on one of the machines and you can’t move because the weight is too heavy.

“cmon. pull.”

and the thing about working with an attractive man (especially in the early days) is you don’t want to look ugly in front of him. something you have to get over quickly. causes him to slip up sometimes too.

“i can’t! it’s too heavy!”

“you lifted less than this yesterday. you can pull it up. go on.”

you know your face is gonna scrunch up, evil frown, sweaty forehead, scrunch of your nose, maybe a squeak.

“fuck.” from you, makes bakugou have to blink twice. standing next to the machine and you on it with his arms folded.

“the quicker you do it, the quicker we both can go the fuck home.” he learns very quickly with you that he can’t say anything about himself because now you’re distracted. looking over him.

“what’s your plans after?”

he rolls his eyes, “grab the fuckin bar and pull. wastin both of our time.”

then you start trying.

- few weeks in, you guys get to texting. mostly just you saying whether you’re running late due to traffic. once you sent him a video of you working out at home, asking him to correct you on your form. another time you sent him a before and after photos. has bakugou staring at this whatsapp message for a while. fuck…. not professional. he’s got friends that’s got with clients, he never has though. he knows you would with him, he’s seen the way you’re curious and how you look at him through the mirror when you think he’s not looking.

short grammatically correct texts is all he does.

- he gives you a meal plan and he HATES how his body gets softer when you start whining that he’s cut out all your favourite foods.

loves when you’re a little stubborn and standing your ground. “i’m sorry but i need some joy in my life. i’d be happier eating what i want and seeing no physical changes.”

bakugou raises his eyebrows at you. usually he’d cuss a little, say what’s the point of hiring him if you’re not willing to change. you’re not gonna be better than your yesterday if your future is the same. he’s got all his quotes stored.

instead he kisses his teeth. tuts under his breath. he could put more fruit in, add in protein powder. less kale. okay a chicken nugget caesar salad isn’t too bad.

“you’re too fuckin’ picky. i’ll see what i can do.”

also cute that when he does start crushing on you properly, he brings you these colourful electrolyte drinks to try. says he got a load at this convention he went to, which is true but he’s not giving any of his other clients a bottle. continues to buy you your favourite flavour even afterwards before every session.

- him putting you in position but hovers his hand over your body. never touches you. has you mention one time “you can touch me. just put me into place.” has you going home thinking about his hands on your body. how big his palm was on the back of your thigh. the heat of his chest against yours. wants you to practice your balance and he’s got a hand on your thigh and your arm. wants you to stretch your pelvic muscles because you’re complaining you feel too much tension in your legs.

has you on your knees, face down, arms out, legs spread and ass up.

regrets it as soon as he puts you in the position. “ohhhh,” a satsified burn, “this feels good.”

since your eyes are closed he does gaze at your ass. to this day he doesn’t understand how you were saying you want it bigger when it’s already a lovely size. it’s not about him though. he can also see your pussy lips from this angle and he’s grateful he’s got his tight compression shorts on under his shorts.

“yeah, yeah. we get it.”

he knows you’d sound like this during sex. fuck, even louder if he was in bed with you.

- you bother him asking if he uses steroids. ragebaiting. he gives in every time.

“shut the hell up. you think i look like this from ‘roids?” jabs his thumb in the centre of his chest.

then you stay giggling.

- you knowing he talks his partners through it in bed. has you on the bench lifting weights, something you were intimidated by because that area is concentrated with MEN. feels better walking into that area behind him.

“gonna start light and go up from there. 12 reps. 30 second break. 3 sets.”

“that sounds like a lot katsuki.”

“don’t be a baby.”

and he’s behind you the entire time, hands under the bar even though you don’t need it.

“two more. push through it. imagine how you’ll feel after.”

“slower… another. fuckin’ lift it. cmon now.”

and it’s always you sweaty and tired smiling up at him. “wow that’s my pb!!!!

gets bakugou like JELLY.

- ends up saying all iterations of “good girl.” “you’re a star.” “attagirl.” when you do a clean set of reps he says “gorgeous.” and you feel your panties soak.

- also you start ditching the baggy t-shirts and start getting matching co ord gym sets. pink ones, cream ones, black ones, blue ones, any colour under the sun. all your favourites. bakugou’s favourite colour is changing daily. you see him checking you out for the first minute of every session. you appear out of the fitting room or you rush into the building with your laptop still in your bag and he’s looking at you up and down. he loves them. they’re tight and lift everything. has him pointing at your tight arm cardigan things like “what’s the point of that?” you shrug, “it’s cute.” and you do… you look so cute.

- defo you asking for an example and he’s laying back on the bench to show you how to lift a weight. he shows you using the bar, “it’s gotta go down to the top of your chest, then you bounce it off. easy shit.” the weight isn’t heavy for him but you’re still staring at his biceps in his tight vest. he only wears black white and navy. “how much can you lift?” and he sits up. “it’s not about me. how much can you lift?” and you frown, “you can tell me that! gives me something to aim for!” and you nudge his shoulder playfully. he likes you a lot. he’s also so stupidly pretty laying back on the bench and he’s blushing now because he’s looking up at you hovering over him. “like 200kg?” he knows exactly how much he can weigh. you’re gasping, nobody around you is lifting that much. “can i see? please?”

and he does show you, even though it’s cutting into your workout time. at the end of the day, he’s not against showing off around you.“you just wanna get out of liftin’. i’m doing one rep and it’s your turn.” “yeah whatever.”

you watch as he piles weight after weight on the bar. the he lays back and lifts. it’s arouses you to the point you’re lightheaded. his groans, his frown. the muscles that bulge in his arms and thighs. the vein in his neck and forehead. he lifts the bar with slight ease, once it’s up, he’s got it moving up and down with quick precise movements.

“oh wow… you’re so strong, katsuki.”

he cannot pay attention for shit. especially because you’re all he sees when he looks up. he does one less rep than he said.

“hey you didn’t do you last one! better than yesterday you or something!”

he drops it in the placeholder, sits up on the bench slouched. “it’s not my gym session, it’s yours. get your ass on the bench.”

just big and fine.

- you text him complaining that your body aches and if he’s got any recommendations to help. he says his friend has a membership at a gym that’s got a sauna so he takes you there. lowkey feels like a date.

he gets to see you all relaxed and sweaty with just a towel on and you see him shiny and golden and bare chested. this idea could be a whole fic so i’m holding off for now.

- he’s got you doing a whole session with the purpose to grow your glutes and ass and the whole time you’re grumbling. “i could just get a bbl. this is hard.” it’s a joke! but he sighs, “one more rep ‘cause of that stupid comment.”

- when his crush is too big to contain, one time you’re saying how you’re starving hungry and he says there’s a good ramen place nearby. says you should go. you take that to assume you solo. so when you come out of the changing room either your bag and jacket, he’s still standing there, phone in hand.

“did you forget something?”

“we’re gettin’ food? aren’t we?”

— 2.1k. bakugou katsuki x f!reader. established relationship. suggestive, tiny bit of angst, fluffy! inspired by a comment @dollyichi left me!

“d’you think you could pay attention to me now?”

bakugou katsuki shouts from his bed, propping himself up on his pillow. he’s flung the duvet to the other side as he tries to position himself in a way so that only one thing can come from it. his bicep is large and tensed as he rests on his forearm, his knee bent, drawing anyone’s gaze right to his crotch in his tight black underwear. specifically, he wants your gaze on him.

if it’s not his fat cock that will make you strip at the sight, it’s going to be his ripple of abs, each one with old powder pink scars ripping through them. he trained his legs this morning in the gym with deku and he won’t lie, his thighs are looking pretty rideable right now.

“baby, where the fuck are you?”

“coming!”

when you bounce into the room, your hair braided away under a bonnet and one of his old massive t-shirts, bakugou’s grin is electrified.

he gets the exact reaction he wants. you freezing in your step at first, so you can gaze at the length of his body. from his feet to his thighs, to his cock, to his chest, his arms, then face. bakugou’s still has it in him to lightly flush because even though he’s been demanding your attention this evening, he never knows what to do when he gets it.

“oh, this is why you’ve been calling me,” you giggle.

pointing to one of the lip balms, “ones for you so we can match.”

and he just laughs a huff out his nose.

when all the items get scanned through he nudges you and you pull out your phone to show your membership card so you can collect points. “i’m saving up my points for a new hairdryer.”

“how many do you need?” he hums, pulling out his wallet and licks his thumb to count his cash.

“about ten thousand.”

“how many do you have?”

“three hundred.”

he glances over at you, a raised eyebrow and cocked jaw. you can read him clearly, he thinks you’re being a little… optimistic. he hands three clean bank notes over to the cashier.

“thanks man.” he says to the cashier who looks at him with starry eyes. a dynamight fan you can only assume.

then to you, “i’ll just buy it for you. that’ll take you ages.”

he lets you take the bag of chocolate so you can nibble on some on the way and he grabs the two boxes of condoms, your blush, your multivitamins and the two lip balms in one hand.

“i just keep using them but i’m going to try. imagine a free hairdryer.”

takes your hand with his other hand and pulls you under his arm.

pointing to one of the lip balms, “ones for you so we can match.”

and he just laughs a huff out his nose.

when all the items get scanned through he nudges you and you pull out your phone to show your membership card so you can collect points. “i’m saving up my points for a new hairdryer.”

“how many do you need?” he hums, pulling out his wallet and licks his thumb to count his cash.

“about ten thousand.”

“how many do you have?”

“three hundred.”

he glances over at you, a raised eyebrow and cocked jaw. you can read him clearly, he thinks you’re being a little… optimistic. he hands three clean bank notes over to the cashier.

“thanks man.” he says to the cashier who looks at him with starry eyes. a dynamight fan you can only assume.

then to you, “i’ll just buy it for you. that’ll take you ages.”

he lets you take the bag of chocolate so you can nibble on some on the way and he grabs the two boxes of condoms, your blush, your multivitamins and the two lip balms in one hand.

“i just keep using them but i’m going to try. imagine a free hairdryer.”

takes your hand with his other hand and pulls you under his arm.