#bnha request

It started off as something small. A passing thought. A glance in the mirror during class when your training shirt clung just a little too tight, flattening what little you had. You’d tugged it forward and shrugged it off, but the insecurity had nested in your brain like a weed.

Maybe it was the time Denki had made some dumb comment about “cleavage perks” when talking about Mina.

Or maybe it was when you saw the way Momo could run with a sports bra and still bounce.

You didn’t have that. You had to cup your hands around your chest and push to even mimic it—and even then, it looked pathetic.

So you started hiding it.

No more tank tops around the dorm. No more leaning close when you hugged Sero. And no more letting him rest his head on your chest like he used to, because every time he did, you imagined him secretly wishing there was more.

You weren’t scared he’d stop loving you.

You were scared he’d accept your body like you were a compromise.

—

“Are you mad at me or something?”

Sero’s voice was unusually quiet when he asked. You were curled up on the common room couch, knees tucked to your chest, hoodie way too big for July. You’d heard the others head off to bed. Just the two of you now.

You blinked at him. “What?”

“You’ve been acting weird.” He sat on the other end of the couch, expression pinched. “Like… you barely hug me anymore. You always pull away when I touch you. I don’t—” He hesitated. “Did I do something?”

No, you wanted to say. It’s not you, it’s me. But that sounded cliché and cowardly and not even half of the truth.

You tried to breathe. “I’m not mad.”

“You sure?” he said softly. “Because it kinda feels like you don’t want me around lately.”

Your chest squeezed. You hated that he thought that.

But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you hugged your knees tighter.

He frowned. “Did I cross a line? Do you not feel comfortable anymore?” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly unsure. “I know I can be touchy, but I thought—I mean, if you need space or want to slow down—”

No, that’s not it!

But again, your voice failed you.

“I—” You swallowed. “It’s not you.”

“Then what is it?” he asked gently. “Because you used to hold me like you meant it. Now you flinch when I put my arm around you.”

You looked away. Tears blurred your vision.

“I just…” Your throat burned. “I don’t want you to touch something you don’t like.”

Silence.

Sero blinked. “What?”

You didn’t answer. The shame was too thick. It was like trying to speak through molasses. Every second stretched unbearably long.

He scooted closer, cautiously. “What do you mean, something I don’t like?”

You laughed—but it came out hollow. “I mean, come on. Look at me.”

“I do,” he said softly. “All the time.”

“That’s the problem.” You wiped at your face, frustrated. “You live with some of the hottest girls in school. You’re surrounded by cleavage and hips and curves every day, and then there’s me.”

“Wait, what?”

“I see the way people look at them, okay? I know what the ‘ideal’ is. And I’m not it.”

His brow furrowed. “What does that have to do with me?”

“Everything!” The emotion burst out of you. “Because I keep wondering if you look at me and think, ‘Well, I love her, so I’ll accept it,’ like it’s something you tolerate instead of something you want.”

Sero stared at you like you’d grown two heads.

You sniffled. “I don’t feel pretty. Or sexy. Or… feminine. And I feel like every time you rest your head on me, or touch me there, you’re pretending not to notice what I don’t have.”

Silence again.

He looked… stunned.

Then slowly—so gently—he reached out, but didn’t touch you. “Can I come closer?”

You nodded.

He scooted in and sat right beside you. “Thank you for telling me. I had no idea you were thinking all that.”

You glanced at him, voice small. “You really didn’t?”

“I thought you were pulling away because I was being too handsy. Like maybe I was rushing you, or you didn’t want to be touched. I didn’t realize you were hiding.”

“I’m not hiding from you,” you said softly. “I’m hiding from… the comparison. The thoughts. What I think you’re thinking.”

Sero took your hand.

“Can I tell you something you might not believe right away?”

You nodded.

“I’ve never once looked at your body and thought, ‘I wish she had more.’” His voice was sincere, low. “I’ve only ever thought, ‘I get to touch her. Me. She trusts me enough to let me close.’ That’s it. That’s the whole thought.”

Your breath hitched.

“I love your body,” he continued, “not because of some checklist. Not because it’s a copy-paste of what other people want. I love it because it’s yours. It’s you.”

He squeezed your hand gently.

“You don’t have to prove femininity to me. You are feminine. You’re beautiful and badass and sexy in ways you probably don’t even realize. And the fact that you’re sharing this insecurity with me? That just makes me respect you even more.”

You blinked, the tears falling faster now.

“I don’t want you hiding from me, baby,” he whispered. “I want you to feel safe with me. Even in your worst thoughts. Especially in them.”

You pressed your face into his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around you like he’d been waiting all day.

“I don’t care about size,” he said into your hair. “I care about you. And you’re not a compromise. You’re my favorite.”

You let out a watery laugh.

“I mean it.” He pulled back enough to look at you. “You’re enough. More than enough. And if your brain ever tells you otherwise, you send it to me. I’ll fight it with tape and dumb jokes.”

You giggled through your tears. “You might lose.”

“I’d go down swinging.”

You sniffled again. “Sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I just… didn’t want to sound crazy.”

“You don’t.” He kissed your temple. “You sound like someone who’s been dealing with this alone for way too long. But not anymore.”

You leaned into him, finally letting yourself melt into the hug fully. No pulling away. No guarded movements. Just warmth. Safety. Trust.

“…Can I still lay my head on your chest sometimes?” he asked shyly.

You gave a small, tearful smile. “Even if it’s flat?”

He bumped your nose with his. “It’s still yours. And it still makes the best pillow.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “Smooth.”

“Just like tape.”

You groaned at the pun—but the ache in your chest was finally easing, replaced by something soft and whole.

And for the first time in weeks, when he held you, you let him.

—

“It’s not my fault that everyone on this island is so helpless. There’s nothing happening here that requires any real effort, so it’s all a waste of my time.” You could have rolled your eyes at his dramatics, but instead, you smiled. “But really, why are you here? It’s not like you have to stay out here with me.”

At Bakugo’s question, your smile dropped slightly and you finally set your magazine down. You had expected the question to come as he was quite right. You had helped out in quite a few different ways that day and you didn’t have to be here at all.

But you wanted to be. You wanted to spend more time with him, even if he was a complete pain in the ass. 

You turned to look at him now, and while he was still glaring, he looked more curious than angry. It was cute. Not that you’d admit that out loud.

“Someone’s gotta make sure you stay out of trouble,” you replied, and Bakugo huffed again.

“Tch. I don’t need a damn babysitter.”

“Of course you don’t, Katsu. Just pretend that I’m not here.”

You expected him to take you up on the offer, but you were surprised when, every few minutes, he would make an attempt at conversation. Some lulls in random topics were longer than others, and as more time passed, you felt your eyelids start to droop. It was getting late and you were exhausted. You hadn’t even realized that you were slumping further into the couch until you were completely asleep. Bakugo, on the other hand, had been watching your steady progression into unconsciousness the entire time.

He didn’t mind that you had fallen asleep on him in the middle of a conversation. In fact, he was kind of happy that you had. He could tell that you were tired and that you needed the rest, you just wouldn’t have listened if he had told you to go to bed. 

As you moved further down the couch, it wasn’t long until your feet were pressed against his thigh and he stood up to make more room for you. He figured he would carry you to your room once his shift was over, but for now, you could sleep peacefully across from him. 

He was just about to cover you up with one of the blankets left draped across the back of one of the chairs when there were loud footsteps coming from the hall that were soon partnered with a much too loud and much too enthusiastic voice for the time that it was.

“Hey Kacchan! How is-“

Midoriya didn’t have a chance to finish his question before Bakugo had him pinned to the wall with one of his hands clamped firmly over his mouth. He had moved across the room in a flash, and wide green eyes stared back at him in surprise.

“Would you shut the hell up?” He growled under his breath. “If you wake them up, I’m going to use you for target practice, do you understand me?”

Slowly, the boy beneath him nodded, and Bakugo slowly let him go. Once he was free, the smaller boy shot him a look before glancing over at the couch a few feet away. This was the first time that he had noticed you were in the room, and he smiled softly at how peaceful you looked. HIs smile only grew as Bakugo moved back across the room so that he could finish covering you up with the blanket.

There had been chatter around the class about how Bakugo’s rough edges seemed to soften just a little bit around you. Some people weren’t sure what to think about it, because no one was brave enough to ask if he had feelings for you. He wasn’t fond of presenting any emotion that someone might deem weak, and even though that was the last thing anyone would have assumed, it was going to take more than just one late night patrol shift to change that.

“You tell anyone about this, and I’ll send you straight to hell, Deku,” Bakugo whispered a few moments later once he was satisfied with how you were tucked in. 

“Of course, Kacchan,” Midoriya whispered back, the smile on his face never faltering. He had always known that his friend had the capacity for emotions such as adoration and love, but this was one of the first times he had seen it properly manifest before. He wasn’t about to say or do anything that might hurt or hinder the way he felt about you. “I’ll leave you to the rest of your shift then.” He had originally come to keep Bakugo company, but when he saw that you had already taken that role, even if you were asleep now, he knew that the would only irritate the fiery blonde if he stayed.

And once he was gone, Bakugo exhaled heavily before sitting back in the chair across from you and reaching for the magazine that you had been reading before. He didn’t really have any interest in the subject matter, but maybe it could be conversation fuel later on. He really did like seeing that surprised look on your face when he said something that you didn’t expect.

Then, after a couple more hours, his shift was over and it was time for him to head to bed. Just as he had planned, he moved to lift you from where you were sleeping so that he could quickly transport you back to your room so that you would wake up in the familiar space in the morning. 

“So much for making sure I stayed out of trouble,” he grumbled half-heartedly as he hooked his arms behind your back and behind your knees before lifting you into the air. “Terrible company.”

He didn’t mean it. In fact, he meant quite the opposite. He had enjoyed the night you had spent together, even if you spent most of it sleeping. He stayed out of trouble because he wanted to make sure that no one disturbed you. And just knowing that you were safe and sound just feet away from him brought him peace that he hadn’t felt in a while. 

As he lifted you up and started walking, his footsteps faltered when he felt your head turn into his chest before nuzzling into his collarbone. Even though you were still fast asleep, you were curling yourself into him, an action that had emotions awakening inside of him that he hadn’t even realized were there before. 

You dominated in every fight you were in.

You knew exactly how to throw all his vicious words right back at him.

You weren’t afraid of anything.

You had a stupid smile that never left his mind.

Bakugou was so angry at himself one night when he couldn’t stop thinking about your smile- that he smashed a pillow to his face and screamed into it. Just so he could relieve himself a bit. But it still didn’t help much because his ears still flared afterwards.

Yet, for all your courage and the way you weren’t afraid to speak your mind.

You were so kind. You were nice to everyone…even him. Bakugou didn’t know how you had it in you. You helped everyone when they were down, you comforted people, and you gave advice freely. 

Bakugou wished…that you reached a hand out to him more though despite everything. He didn’t need help. The thought of someone pitying him made Bakugou sick to his stomach. But he wanted you to put a hand on his shoulder. Maybe say the stereotypical- ‘It’s all gonna be okay’. Even though that’s not what he really needed to hear.

This was all bullshit.

What was even more bullshit was how you especially helped Deku out. Deku broke his arms every other fight and you graciously offered him pointers. You were instructing him right now. Plus, you were smiling. 

At Deku. 

Disgusting.

Bakugou eyed the both of you from the sidelines. Everyone in Class 1-A was split off into different groups. At the moment, the two of you were on the training mat. You were going into various maneuvers- the nerd was eagerly nodding his head along to your words. You modeled different forms for him and Deku continually would praise them. He was too damn happy-go-lucky. 

Bakugou could see Deku’s mouth moving but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. You happily replied, “Well… how about you try it on?”

Deku held up his hands nervously and fretted for a moment. But you insisted.

“Come on Midoriya! We are training- just do it! So I’m just gonna run at you. It will be fun!”

“Okay Y/N…”

The two of you moved to opposite sides of the mat. Deku planted his feet in the ground firmly then nodded at you. You nodded at him back- then took off. 

You charged at him with everything you had, and when you came within arm’s reach of him. Deku lowered himself slightly, then moved upward swiftly, with the combined motion of both you and him. Deku flipped you on to your back. 

However, Deku didn’t even notice how his Quirk flared for a moment with the adrenaline he felt. He felt one brief second of accomplishment before he heard the loud thunk of you slamming into the ground. Too loud…

You groaned.

Deku came to your side immediately, a stream of words spilling out, “Oh I’m sorry! S..sorry… I didn’t even realize what I was-”

You put up a hand, “No you’re fine Midoriya! I’m glad you pulled it off.”

Deku reached out to you, and you accepted it.

However, you faltered. You pressed a palm to your lower back.

You huffed, “On second thought…”

Deku panicked again.

“Midoriya it’s fine. Nothing Recovery Girl can’t handl-”

Bakugou didn’t realize what he was doing. Why his legs were moving by themselves, and why he rushed forward as fast as he could.

Goddamnit.

Bakugou came upon the two of you and declared, “I’ll take you there.”

You gazed up at him, and Bakugou met you with his own eyes. You averted your own quickly when he did that. You stammered out quietly, “Oh…sure Bakugou-san…”

Bakugou was carrying you piggy back style to Recovery Girl’s office.

You had tried to say that as long as he just walked with you- it would be fine. But then Bakugou just yelled for you to hop on before he changed his mind.

You were pressed ever so slightly into him.

You were so close to him.

And you didn’t mind it one bit.

Until Bakugou opened his mouth.

“Y/N- you shouldn’t even bother with these extras.”

You shifted on Bakugou’s back.

“What do you mean Bakugou?”

“It’s exactly what I said…just don’t bother with everyone.”

Bother. That was one way of putting things. You fumbled with your hands that were in front. You had no clue what Bakugou was trying to get at…if anything you were just being yourself. This was part of being in U.A, this was a part of being a hero. Helping your classmates came as natural as breathing.

You weren’t really in the mood to argue with Bakugou. Your back wasn’t your friend at the moment and he could just drop your ass to the ground if you guys did argue. And you…just really didn’t want to.

Bakugou, despite all his flaws (particularly his choice of words and arrogance), you couldn’t help but admire him. He was strong…fierce….handsome. 

You fumbled with your hands in front of him.

That mouth on him frequently clashed with all your positive thoughts of him. Your need for respect demands you always say something right back at him. Lately, you were trying to just tell yourself to be calm and let it go over your head. Bakugou seemed to kind of back off as well. Which was…weird. Once again, you found yourself confused with how you felt. You kind of grew used to his remarks and even anticipated them.

What was your brain even doing?

“Well, in my opinion, none of our classmates are bothering me.”

“Tch, sure…”

Now what the hell did you expect- To not get a response like that from him?

You stated, “You can’t claim to know my feelings.”

Silence.

You spiky headed asshole.

So you added, “Maybe, if you reached out a hand more or accepted one from others. You would find that you wouldn’t be so miserable.”

That made Bakugou stop in his tracks. He craned his neck backwards and attempted to glare at you. You did catch a glimpse… so you scowled at him.

Bakugou honestly didn’t know how to reply to that. But the first thing to come out of his mouth was, “Don’t tell me what to do.”

He turned forward and marched onward. He heard a small sigh out of you and then you offered, “Literally though- I could give you some tips. We could train together!”

It made Bakugou’s heart flip to hear you say that. But he drowned that feeling quickly because he zoned in on the fact that you were offering him help. That you thought he needed it…that he wasn’t strong…and he was weak. You were so full of it. Did you really think so little of him? And you helped Deku…and now you oh so graciously offered him help. You had a lot of damn nerve.

Bakugou spat out, “I don’t need your stupid help! I’m not weak!”

You became dreadfully quiet for a few moments.

It was unbearable for him.

Then you asked softly, “Why are you like this?”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

“One- why are you such an asshole? And two- why do you think you’re weak?”

Bakugou ignored the first question but then straightened up and exclaimed, “You just said I was.”

You scoffed, “No I didn’t. I offered to train with you…there is a big difference…”

Bakugou stopped once again.

“It’s the same damn thing to me, Y/N.”

Even though Bakugou couldn’t see you… he could sense your apprehension. He felt you shake your head, then you explained, “You confuse the hell out of me. I can’t believe I have to say this point blank- you’re not weak. I don’t believe that at all and I doubt anyone in class believes it either.”

Bakugou continued to stand still.

“And you didn’t really answer my questions at all. Why do you think you’re weak?”

He practically growled out, “I don’t!”

“Sure…”

“I’m not weak. And how you could not think I’m weak. You offered to train with me- as if I fucking need it! As if I’m…Deku…”

You narrowed your eyes at him. You knew Midoriya and Bakugou went to the same middle school. From the way Midoriya acted around Bakugou… you could feel the history between the two of them. Still- Midoriya seemed to think the world of Bakugou. 

You said, “Midoriya might break his arms every other fight but… he is growing. And that’s a good thing whether you like it or not, Bakugou. He will only get better.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

You don’t regret saying it because Bakugou needed to hear it from someone. Might as well be you. But it was the wrong thing to say because he immediately exploded.

“Things used to be so different. It was easier. I was at the top- I didn’t need to prove that I was the best! AND THEN I CAME HERE! Everyone’s growing…This is all….bullshit…”

Your breath had hitched and while you were used to his behavior. This was so…personal and you hadn’t seen this side of him. This was new.

Bakugou continued, “And you… why are you like this? Why are you so full of shit?”

And then Bakugou ruined it for you.

Your voice became shrill, “I’m the one full of shit. Are you kidding me? I’m just trying to… You really are something, Bakugou. I’m apparently full of shit but when you’re the one who just unloaded a lot of it.” 

You began to struggle on his back. Bakugou had a secure hold underneath your knees but it began to loosen with you thrashing. He shouted, “The fuck are you doing, dumbass?” 

“Getting the hell away from you!”

“You’re hur-

“I don’t care. Put. ME. DOWN.”

Bakugou slowly removed his hold from you, and you got down in about as graceful a manner as you could. When you pried away from him, he tried to walk with you, for just a few steps. Before you spun on your heels to face him and said, “Stop! Just leave me alone. I can walk by myself.”

As quickly as you could, you got away from him.

Bakugou didn’t know he could feel as lonely as he did when you left.

Recovery Girl really did work her magic as intended. Though she required you to stay for a few hours and rest. You pressed your back into one of the beds. You tried to relish the feeling of the cushion but it didn’t really help you out. Your back was better.

But your mind was scrambled.

How could someone so smart have his way of thinking? 

How could someone so strong think he was weak?

You definitely had some stronger insight on Bakugou but you still just didn’t get why he had to be that way. Despite all of what just happened…that inkling of admiration still tugged at your heart. 

You really did want to train with him.

You wanted to know him better.

You didn’t understand your own thoughts about him.

So you decided that for now it was easier to just try and doze off. Let dreams possibly take you to better circumstances, let them make you feel lighter.

Though your heart still felt heavy as you began to fall asleep.

About an hour or so later. You were flicked on the forehead and it made you jolt up in the bed. Grumbling, you rubbed your eyes and yawned. With vision becoming more defined, very clear blonde spikes became more prominent to you.

You whined.

“I’m not pleased with you. Go away.”

You were tethering between fully waking up and telling him off. Or just flipping your body over and ignoring him until he went away. Let sleep claim you again.

Bakugou started, “Look…I have just one more thing to say to you.”

You drew one long breath, and rolled your eyes.

“Go on.”

Before Bakugou could say his final piece, you did turn over on your side so you weren’t facing him. 

Bakugou started, “Tch…alright well. I don’t understand you in a lot of ways, Y/N. I don’t get why you feel the need to help our classmates. I just don-”

You interjected, “It’s just how I am and I’m going to continue to do so. I want to.”

Bakugou sighed, “Whatever…but I…take back one thing I said because it is not…true.”

You rolled back to the other side to face him, and arched your brow, “Keep going…”

Bakugou pouted.

You thought that was kind of cute.

He finished, “You’re not full of shit.”

Your eyes widened, you peered up at him, and you tilted your head to the side

Bakugou thought that was kind of cute.

You were kind of shocked that Bakugou would commit to this kind of gesture. He actually…apologized. This was new. 

Flustered, you stammered out, “I…I appreciate that, Bakugou.”

He added quickly, “I’m not in the interest of being a liar so…”

You smiled at him. A sleepy beaming one, and his heart did that flipping thing again. His chest tightened. You nestled your head into the pillow again, still looking up at him, and still grinning, “I guess…I have one more thing to say too…”

You already had all of his attention, but now his heart was racing on top of that.

“Midoriya is growing. Everyone in class is growing- and getting better. You can only get better, Bakugou…”

He glared for a second.

You gave him a look…don’t ruin it.

Bakugou gave you a haughty smile, and pointed at himself, “Well I’m going to be the best… so of course I am going to be better. Better then all of you”

You giggled.

Drowsy and sinking more into the pillow you replied, “Okay whatever you say.”

You fell right asleep again. 

Bakugou still never told you how he stayed a few moments longer that day. How he took a chance to enjoy your smile. How he enjoyed this time alone with you for a brief minute. How your words affected him but he wouldn’t admit it. How his life was changing and that he wanted you in it. 

He found out pretty quickly that you wanted to add weight lifting to your training. You were sick of just doing cardio. After a few weeks went by, you were practically seeing him everyday of the week. Your sessions together were the best part of his day.

"I can't do it Kiri!" you huffed, completely frustrated that you were struggling doing deadlifts. Your legs were hurting too much.

"Yes you can! I know you can!"

"I can't really I can't..."

A beat of silence went by. You took a hearty swig from your water bottle as he contemplated what he should do next. He almost salivated at the sight of you guzzling down your drink. Water leaking out of the corner of your mouth. He held his eyes shut and composed himself, God forbid he get a hard on right now.

"Let's stretch some more, yeah?" Kirishima suggested. You shook your head.

"It's so embarrassing in front of everyone..."

He scoffed out a laugh at that. What's so embarrassing about stretching? But this might work to his advantage... Finally an opportunity to get you all alone. His finger performed a 'come hither' motion as he exited the main gym, you followed obediently. You found yourself in the yoga studios, he just so happened to have a spare key. He even locked the door after you. You know, so no one would walk in and make you feel embarrassed.

You aren't sure why you were so surprised that he was so limber. He is a personal trainer after all. But when you voiced your surprise, he told you that he takes yoga classes too. You feel so very lucky to have such a talented PT.

He's losing it. He's totally losing it because your body is so beautiful when you're following all of the poses and stretches he's telling you to perform. He needs to keep it together. He needs to. He can't. He can't... He won't.

"Come here for me sweetheart." he instructs.

This is new. His arms are wrapped around your torso. Your back is being held tightly against his chest. Is he trying to correct your posture? You go along with it for a little while. Your eyes bulge when you realise what's going on. A deep grunt erupts from his chest directly into your ear as he gyrates his hips slowly against your ass. His dick hardens perfectly between your cheeks. You try to pull away, but he's too strong for you.

He's even too strong with one hand wrapped around your torso. He moves his other to find your cunt above your lycra leggings. The moan that erupts from him as he discovers how wet the area is makes slick pump out of you almost instantly. Is your intimate area sweaty from working out or are you just so wet for him already? It's both.

"Kiri..." you mewl, matching his movements. So you're into this too after all? That's all he needs to hear. He spins you around and kisses you deeply. You want him too, it's so messy and heated. He helps lower you to the ground.

You're on your back with your legs spread wide for him. Kirishima grinds his cock against your damp crotch and the feeling is ecstacy. It doesn't matter that you've both got clothes on. This is enough. He sucks and bites at your neck. He knew you'd have pretty moans.

"Waited so long for this baby." he admits. You giggle at that. "You're so noisy... super sensitive huh?" he asks. You nod. It's embarrassing, but it's been so long since you've been touched. You're so desperate and needy.

"'m gonna... gonna..."

"Do it. Cum for me princess." he hums into your ear.

"Nngh!" you were powerless to his words. The way his fat cockhead perfectly nudged at your clit even through his shorts. You didn't stand a chance at holding out any longer. His large hand forced your face to his so he could kiss you through your orgasm. He digested your moans, he'd been waiting for them for so long.

"What would people think if they walked in on you getting dry fucked in the yoga rooms?" he teased.

He rolled off of you onto his back. He wanted to cum, so badly. But he couldn't. He couldn't be dealing with his work shorts filled to the brim with his sticky backed up load for the rest of his shift. He's got you now, doesn't he? You'll let him have you again. He's sure you'll be kind enough to relieve him when his shift is over. He doesn't know how he'll get through it. None of his clients are as fun as you...

this is part of my ON THE JOB event

Kugo Sakamata/Gang Orca: Kugo tended to wear his emotions on his sleeve in private with you, stress was no different. He was clearly stretched out beyond his normal limits, and by the looks of it, he still had a ways further to go. He always got a little short with you when his work became tedious, not in a mean way just in a curt way. One word answers to your questions became favorable and for better or worse he mostly just liked to be left alone. He apologized after things were sorted he knows you’re only worried and trying to check in with him but when things pile up he gets overwhelmed even by your simple questions.  You could feel the irritation appearing on Monday night, and it only piled as the week progressed, by the end of it the poor man was about to spill over with his annoyance. You were working quietly across the room from him, much less stressful and more leisurely assignments that didn’t make your heart leap out of your throat, you watch him tap his pen around on his desk, prattling the black plastic as he sat on the phone, after a moment he just hung up and sighed, that was the fourth interaction like that within the hour. You watched him forlornly, you wished there was some way for you to help relieve the tension in his shoulders, something you could say or do that would put him at ease rather than overwhelm him further. As you pondered it you realized that maybe there was something. You stand up suddenly, and the unexpected motion leads Kugo to turn and look at you expectantly.  “I’m going to get ready for bed I think.” You sigh, “I’m pretty exhausted so it’s probably best to call it an early night.” It was at least worth a try, even if he’d say no, “you look tired too.” You press a kiss just below his eye, “why don’t you join me?”  He shakes his head, “In a little while. I’ll be quiet.”  “I wasn’t worried about that.” You squeeze his shoulders, “don’t work too hard, okay Kugo?” He just hums back at you as you leave.  You were sort of worried you’d lost it, you’d boughten it a while ago but got too nervous to even put it on by yourself let alone in front of someone else. It wasn’t that you thought he wouldn’t like it, you were pretty sure Kugo could find a way to compliment you if you were wearing a trash bag, it just felt...strange. Embarrassing maybe. You couldn’t pin the word but it made you flutter nervously.  When you do manage to dig it up you contemplate it for a second. You decide the nervousness will be worthwhile if it helps relieve Kugo even a little bit.  You wonder how to go about it, should you just walk across the hall and bust in his office? That feels sort of curt. You look around for a moment before an idea percolates.  “Kugo!” You call out to him, trying to keep an indifferent tone, “can you come here a second? I need a hand!” You hear him sigh, and you’re half expecting him to call back that the step ladder is in the kitchen. But you sit on the edge of your bed in wait, trying to look less nervous and more appealing.  “What’s the matter? I’m very-” Blue, dark navy blue and barely there. He really wasn’t expecting this. He could practically see all of you, sitting on the edge of the mattress, legs crossed, thin satiny straps hardly holding the frail garment together, he’s sure just one tug from his finger would send it fluttering to the ground. He feels sort of bad for letting so much annoyance bubble up in him when you called for him. But now something else was bubbling up. It was like you’d packaged yourself up for him.. well he supposed you quite literally did. “Are you busy?” You can feel his gaze latch onto you, his eyes taking you in, up and down rapidly over and over again.  “No..not...very..”

 It really doesn’t take much coaxing to get him undressed and into bed. After a while of kissing him while his hands roam around the sheer blue lace that just scarcely covered you, you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. You’d been together for a while, and you were never one to hold out on him, he isn’t sure why he’s on cloud nine right now, it’s not like he’d never gotten this sort of thing from you before, your hands, mouth, and a lot more than that were always there. If he wanted you all he had to do was ask. But something about you doing this for him, because he was stressed...the way you did all this just to relieve him? It was too sweet, combined with the sight of you in that perfect outfit on your knees for him and the feeling of your lips and hands playing with his already hard cock was more than enough to wash the tension away. It cleared his head of anything but you.  Big hands pull your mouth off his length, the drool and precum around your lower lip, paired with the redness washed over your face and the obscene plumpness in your lips that the stretch of his cock left behind would have been enough to make him beg if you felt any need to withhold from him. Lucky for him you did not.  “Kugo-” You let him spread your legs, tread careful fingers between them pressing in one, then another while he holds you up in his lap, leaning you against his chest for leverage.  “What a sweet thing you are...” His chest rumbles with it, “did you go to this trouble all to make me feel better?”  His fingers knew their way around too well, his other hand splayed on your chest, careful to simply push or slide underneath the lace rather than remove it, palms and fingertips occasionally brushing over your nipple, all you can do is keen and nod.  “You did?” His hand on your chest pushes you closer, “that makes me so happy my love.”  “Kugo-” You call for him again and he hums as you clutch his wrist, the one between your legs.  “I’m right here. Hm... What would I do without you?” He murmurs it close to your ear, it sends a full-body shudder down your frame, “you always take such good care of me, and I was being cold to you wasn’t I?”  “No,” you shake your head, your whole face is burning, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment at the exposure, “you weren’t-”  “But I was.” He sighs, “and now I’m sorry, how can I make it up to you?”  “Kugo- I just want you,” you gasp, fingers tightening around his arm, “please Kugo,” his fingers leave you at that, the loss makes your whole abdomen stutter.  “Turn around and face me.” You follow his order with shaking thighs.  “Aren’t you lovely?” His tongue slides over your chest as two big hands curl around the small of your back. “Can you do it?”  His question falls on deaf ears, you’re already lining him up and starting to take him in, the groan that rumbles out of him only spurs you on until you’ve worked yourself up to hysterics bouncing in his lap, his low grunted praises pushing you closer to the proverbial edge by the second.  You’re a nice view, Kugo’s surprised he’s lasted so long with it. He watches the flush extend down your chest, his hand occasionally treks down the small of your back to your hips, then down still to feel the stretch of you around his length, until he's just about there, then he’s guiding all your movements, pushing and lifting you with ease, an almost bruising grip gets you to roll your hips against his. You’re sheathed totally in his lap when you both finish.  He enjoys watching your chest heave as you come down from it, then you fall against him. “You really do look lovely.” He wraps his arms around you, keeping you in place.  “You think so?” You shuffle up his chest, “well I’m glad. I don’t know why I was nervous..”  “Nervous?” His tongue glides along your neck, “about how you looked?” “Maybe, I don’t know. I thought maybe you wouldn’t like it, I...I guess I don’t know what I thought to be honest.”  “Whatever you want to give to me I’d be delighted to have.” He nips your earlobe and you sigh, coiling a leg around him as he continues, “even when I get a little short with you, you’re always what I want. I’m a pushover when it comes to you.” He concedes, and then you remember.  “Sorry to pull you away from all your work. I just wanted to help...”  “No need to be sorry, you did help..” He’s rubbing long, tender strokes up your back, “and anyways it was an emergency.” 

Shouta Aizawa: Stress wasn’t foreign to the erasure hero, though stress that came from being behind on work presented a certain dilemma. He dealt with stress by sleeping, but in this case...well sleeping would only make it worse. So he got even less sleep than normal. He was irritable at best and downright rude at worst. He’d apologize later, he always did, but at the moment all he wanted was to be left along to plug away at all the responsibilities he’d neglected until now. You felt bad, you wished there was more you could do to help him out, but as it were all you could really do is be there if he wanted to lean his weight on your arm or complain about his day, normally you’d offer a nap with him but that seemed like the last thing he’d want.  You’d already left him to get ready for bed, you’d showered and were rummaging around for some pajamas when you find it, you don’t think you’d even worn it before. You wouldn’t say you and Shouta didn’t have a lot of sex, you had a decent amount, but normally fancy lingerie was left to fantasy, it looked fragile and not at all like something that would hold up against Shouta’s semi-destructive bedroom tendencies, you wonder why you bought it in the first place. Though you realize that it may be useful right about now, especially if he was in a being taken care of mood over a, doing the caring mood.  You wonder how long ago you even got it, it still fit fine so it can’t be all that old. You peek out the bedroom door to make sure he’s still sitting, unsuspecting at the table in the kitchen, his back to you.  When it all checked out you made your way over, sliding your arms around his neck.  “Shou.” You rest your cheek against his temple, “it’s so late.”  “I know.” Is his deadpan reply. “Do you need the time?” He points to the bottom right of his screen, a small digital clock displaying the hour. You huff at that, you knew he knows that’s not what you mean. “Come to bed with me.” You rub his chest over the ribbed fabric of his shirt, “please?”  “In a minute.”  “Shouta..please..” You whine at him and duck down to kiss his jaw, he reaches behind himself to hold onto you, he finds your shoulder, by the crook of your neck, expecting to feel the fabric of a t shirt or a tank top strap, but there’s nothing, just skin, he slides his hand over your shoulder, in search of something. His other arm reaches around too, lower, to your legs, thighs, and hips.  “Are you naked?” He asks incredulously. “Maybe,” His hand finds one strap around your thigh as you continue, “or better.” He pulls away and stands, facing you, you’re still bent over resting on the back of his chair.  “You-” His eyes latch onto the purple, royal purple, dark, and figure-hugging, leaving nothing to his imagination, purple that he wanted to pull away with his teeth, leaving marks on your skin behind in its place.  “Where’d you get that-”  “Why’s it matter?” You laugh, pulling him closer by his shoulder, “want a matching set?”  “Shut up.” He wraps his arms around you despite his words.  “Ready to call it a night now?” Your own arms come around his neck and he sighs.  “You’re such a brat.”  “You were the one being mean, if you work like this too much I’ll worry you don’t love me anymore, you know?”  The trek from the kitchen to your bedroom is mostly lost in your memory.  You aren’t entirely sure why you considered the possibility that Shouta would want to lay back and let you take care of him, as soon as he touched you back in the kitchen you realized all he’d really want to do was blow off steam. But you were fine with that too. 

That in mind...he can be utterly cruel when it suits him. 

“Are you still worried I don’t love you anymore?” His voice is low and gruff beside your ear, his lips and stubble scraping down your jaw to your neck. If you’d had plans to get on your knees for him he nixed them before you could even get started in favor of getting you where he had you now, back to his chest three fingers inside you at a grueling pace, pushing and curling and rubbing until your eyes were watering and you were arching against him, trying to get enough leverage to close yourself off.  “Keep your legs open.” His other hand is at your collar bone, keeping you pressed against him, “come on, or I’ll tie you up how I want you.” You grip his arm at that you can feel him grin into your skin.  “You’re gonna rip it-” You turn into him, chest stuttering, he hadn’t gone to the trouble of removing the lingerie, just pushing and twisting it out of the way of his hands.  “I’ll buy you a new set if I do.” He’s teeth close around your neck, “don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about anything.”  You dig your nails into his arm unsure of what number orgasm this was, honestly after 2 you felt like they just melded together anyways, it’s not like he let up nearly long enough to let you recover.  “Are your eyes watering?” He mutters it into your jaw, “aren’t you cute? Is it too much?” You’re just shaking your head, keening and arching into his touch, chest heaving with helpless breaths.  “No?” His voice is thick with faux sympathy, “are you gonna cry? It hurts a little to be so close, doesn’t it? Can’t take it? You’re right there aren’t you? Why can’t you cum?” He doesn’t mind the scratching, and it’s a good thing, cause if he did..he’d be an unhappy man after this all let up.  “You didn’t say-” You barely get the breath in your lungs to push the words out.  He’s grinning though, it’s the answer he wanted, exactly how he wanted it, breathless and needy. “You want me to say you can?” His other hand rubs your stomach comfortingly, a stark and unfair contrast to the pace of his second hand. “Is that what you want? Will you cry if I don’t?”  “I’ll cry if you do too-”  “I’m willing to test that, come on. Cum now.” It happens like clockwork, with Shouta it always was. Stuttering thighs, your stomach taking in shaky uneven breaths. Once your peak is there and gone both hands are softer, slower, rubbing long strokes against your sex then your stomach and chest.  “That was good.” He’s murmuring it into the soft skin behind your ear, “that was so good. You’re so sweet.” His hand’s rubbing small circles over your belly, his thumb brushing over your navel. “Is that all you can do tonight?” “No,” You shake your head vehemently, “no I want you too-” He hums affectionately into your skin at that. “You are sweet tonight.” He squeezes you a little, it’s a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but you feel it. “Okay then, if this is what you want then I won’t feel bad. Lay on your chest.”

Sekijiro Kan/Vlad King: Despite how he looked Kan really wasn’t very brutish at all. But when he got like this sometimes his own strength evaded him. It made his emotions obvious, when he got too stressed even a fountain pen was liable to snap in his fist. He’d worked through all the wooden pencils in your apartment, they’d been halved and discarded in rapid succession, he was currently working through all the mechanical pencils. You hoped this all got sorted before the fountain pens, that was a mess you’d rather avoid. He was usually good at dealing with stress, long runs, combat trainings, things in that vein were usually enough to relive him of a bad couple of days. But if the discontent extended past that normally he liked talking with you, when he was stressed, upset or exhausted he liked having you hauled up in his lap, squeezing him, combing your fingers through his hair and babying him into perking up a bit. But when it got past even that stage was when you had to worry about fountain pens.  He’d brush you off, just a grunt or nod as a reply as he slunk back into his seat. You tired your signature knuckle kisses to get him to warm up to you, but all you’d gotten out of him was a huff of breath. He didn’t pull his hand away from you though, until his phone started to ring, and by the time he finished his conversation and hung up he didn’t look keen on offering it to you again.  “Sek.” You slide your hand into the crook of his elbow and he nods.  “You should come to bed. It’s late and you don’t feel good.”  “I feel fine.” He shakes your hold on his arm, “you go ahead. It is late, there’s no need for you to be up now.” Normally he’d kiss your head with a phrase like that, but all he did was break the pencil in his right hand. You sigh, “alright. Well wake me up if anything okay? If I can help at all I want to.”  “I know. Thanks.” You kiss his temple as you stand up, “Don’t be too late.” He just nods at that and you close the door behind you as you leave.  It’s there in your closet front and center when you open it up. You were planning on using it for his birthday...but now..well maybe it’d be enough to rescue him yet? You only got it a few days ago, you hadn’t even tried it on yet. You look between it and your reflection before settling on an idea.  You stand before the closed door, separating you and Sekijiro, you’re just a little nervous, if he brushed you off dressed like this you’d be sort of crushed, but he got such tunnel vision sometimes it was a possibility in your head. But you were almost 100% there now, so there wasn’t any use in turning back. “Sekijirio.” You open the door and try to seem less anxious. “Mhm?” He doesn’t turn to look at you. You approach him without responding. “Sekijiro.” You say it harder this time and he nods more obviously, still spinning a barely together pencil in his fingers.  “Yeah,what’s wrong?” You’re standing beside him and he still doesn’t look at you.  “I though you were going to bed?” He says still without looking at you.  “I was.” You agree.  “So why didn’t you?” “I got lonely.” You put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to get his gaze on you, though you’re ineffective. “I’m really busy.”   “Sekijiro.” You spin his chair.  “Baby what gives, I-” He stops, maybe chokes on something.  “You’re being such a brute.” You take his hands and slide them up your stomach as you drop into his lap. He hears you but all he can think about is red, lacy and showy fabric highlighting the best places, like a guide for all the places his wants to put his hands, the band around your thigh squeezing, making you look even fuller and more supple in his lap. “What happened to my big sweet man Seki?” His mouth feels dry, your holding the sides of his neck, drawing him into a kiss, and clearly encouraging him to just put his hands all over you. It was like he was having some embarrassing high school fantasy, like someone dug around his brain and picked out his most perfect fantasy and laid it out like a trap for him. “I say that..but it’s so sexy when you get all worked up..” His stomach swarms at that as your eyes cast to the abandoned pile of broken writing utensils. You’re practically whining into his lips, “ and I know I shouldn’t distract you, you said you were busy, I’m sorry I’m so needy-”  “I’m not busy at all.” He barely lets you finish, “this is nothing. Don’t be sorry. I can do it tomorrow.” He was sure his class would understand if he..waited an extra day or two to return the exams..  “Just keep working.” Your hands are sliding into his shirt, “I’ll take care of you.”

He could not keep working. It was unfair of you to hold him to that standard, when you were so good at this, when you looked so good on your knees between his legs, taking him to the back of your throat, when your hands felt like that braced on his thighs. No sane person could keep working. Not when your hair was begging to have his hands in it, or when you clearly needed to be guided up and down his length by the nape of your neck.  He only had two hands. And when your’s started wandering, up his abdomen, around to his waist, begging him to toss his shirt somewhere else..the work can wait, for your sake. He doesn’t mean to pull so hard, but the moan that flutters past your lips when he does indicates it may not be the worst mistake he’s ever made. He pulls you off his length and you let him go with a pop, a thin strand of something obscene connected your lips to the head of his cock, the sight of it alone was enough to make him buck his hips up into nothing.  “Let’s just go to bed.” He’s guiding you to stand, “I’m done here. Let’s just go bed.” He can’t tell if the ditzy stumble and blown out pupils are just part of the act or if blowing him really does shut your brain off a little. “if you want-” Your voice jumps as he swipes you up via the back of your thighs, once your settle though you take the short walk to your bedroom as an opportunity to get your lips on him again, his shoulders, his chest, just around the neckline of his hero costume, if it even tore a little one stood the chance of sticking out. He loses his pants on the way. He just tosses you on the bed once you’re close enough, before you can protest or complain he’s kissing you quiet, then trailing his mouth down your neck and shoulders, to your chest and stomach and legs, kissing and biting and fingering, enjoying the feeling of your fingers twirling and tugging his hair, and the way you’re spreading your legs to allow him closer. He enjoys it until he’s hooking your legs over his shoulders and lining himself up, your hands brace his hips as he presses forward.  If anyone asked him this was the best of both worlds, he got the physical work out plus he got you cooing in his ear? He wasn’t really sure what he was stressed about in the first place.  “Fuck-” You’re gasping it out, pressing his face into your neck, “you’re amazing-” Even subtle praise makes his stomach jump, and you’re just babbling it out thoughtlessly at this point, he doesn’t blame himself for not lasting much longer after you start.  His weight drops onto your chest after you finish and you heave, “jeeze Sek-”  “Sorry.” He presses his face into your shoulder, “sorry.” But he doesn’t move. The way you wrap your arms around his back say you don’t want him to.  “That was really good.” He’s still huffing into your skin and you hum, dragging a hand up his back.  “I’ll help you grade that stuff tomorrow.” You twirl the hairs at the base of his neck around your fingertips. He groans thankfully. “I’m sorry I was being mean.” He rolls over and traps you against his chest, “you’re the best.” 

Hizashi Yamada/ Present Mic Hyperactive was an understatement, manic was an intense downplay of the current state of your boyfriend. And he was doing everything but the things that needed to get done.  “Hizashi-”  “I can't now I need to do-” (insert thing that doesn’t need to be done at all).  He had plenty of reports to fill out, from what you heard it was a busy week for patrols in the area, plus his usual grading and any work for the show.  But instead of doing that he was reorganizing a record shelf.  “Hizashi I-”  “You don’t understand how badly I need to organize these alphabetically by title.” He doesn’t let you get a word in.  “Clearly I don’t at all. Can I help at all?” You sit on the ground behind him.  “No I don’t think so.”  “Alright.” You concede, “I’m gonna call it a night.” You sigh, “call if you need me.”  “Aye aye.” He’s scrutinizing two records as you leave him.  You just needed to get him to focus on something, then he’d be fine. But what could you get him to focus on...something starts to bubble up, it might just work too..if you could get his feet on the ground  in anyway at all you were sure it’d stick.  It doesn’t take you long to find the box, you’d bought it for a special occasion, though with Hizashi you normally didn’t get much in the ways of planning and preparation, when valentines, your birthday, his birthday, an anniversary etc.. rolled around he was jumping your bones the moment you rolled over in the morning. You don’t think he’s ever even seen this one on you.  You don’t take long to get changed, you’re inspecting yourself in the mirror when your bedroom door opens.  “Babe I know you said you were going to bed but I hope you aren’t asleep because while I was cleaning out that box that I use to prop up some vinyl sleeves I found these hilarious pictures from high school of you and Nem-” He drops the pictures.  “Oh.” You turn to him, “well I wanted to give you a surprise.”  “You did-” He chokes it out, red flush creeping down his neck, “why are you wearing that-”  “Because.” You go over to him and take his wrists, pulling him further into your bedroom, he just stumbles along with your pull. “You need to calm down Zashi baby.”  “This does not make me feel calm-” It’s strangled, if he got any redder you were sure you’d see steam coming out of his ears.  “You need to get all your energy out.” You press him down until he’s sitting on the edge of your bed. You roll your hips against him, and drag your lips down his jaw, one hand braced on his shoulder and the other against his chest, but you can still feel his attention waining.  “Zashi.” You drop all your weight into his lap and it pulls his eyes from your dresser back to you.  “Focus on me.” You guide his hands up your waist and all the fluster that had been lost as his thoughts wandered away from you returned. You realize the better thing to do is stand up and let him have things his way. “You can look or touch however you want.” You pull his hands down your hips.  “So just blow off all that extra steam okay? Whatever you want, just tell me.”  He looks mildly like he’s about to pass out.  His hands go where you expect, your hips, around to cup your ass and his lips flutter around your stomach and waist. You elect to just sigh good naturedly and curl your fingers in his hair to keep him with you. “Can you turn around?”  “Hizashi.” You frown, “don’t be distasteful.”  “You said whatever I wanted-” You suppose you cant argue that so you turn around and try not to let out an embarrassing squeak or squeal when 100% of his attention is directed at your ass, one arm circling around you to hold you in place.  Various articles of clothing are lost or rearranged to accommodate the touching and kissing. He manages to pull you into bed with him, still keeping your legs on either side of his head as he lays down. His arms wrap around your thighs  fingers and palms running slow strokes over your sex as his teeth scrape the surrounding skin, tongue fluttering against your hole occasionally. You press against his chest for leverage and he encourages you to rock your hips against him. You eventually go for his cock, as he starts to work you up too much, getting you too close. You thumb at the head before leaning down and taking him past your lips. He seems contented with that for a while until he’s laying you out on your chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pushing into you. He doesn’t stay pressed to you for too long before he’s pulling back to watch your whole body react to him.  It held his attention exceedingly well.  “Zashi fuck-” To say that the way you reached back and fumbled for his hand where it held the bend of your hips heightened the experience would be an understatement.  “Fuck you’re really sexy-” He presses his fingers into your skin harder, “god you’re so fucking hot,” he groans watching your back shift to accommodate the way your hand searches for some purchase. Instead though he’s pushing it away and using his grip on you to turn you to your back, he pulls your legs around his waist and you follow his pull with no protest.  “Fucking god,” He grunts, bottoming out as if he hadn’t pulled out in the first place, “shit, look at you.”  “Zashi-” Your chest flutters with it, he can feel it under his hands.  “Say my name like that again.” He mutters it, maybe more to himself, he’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist and aligning it over his shoulder.  He seriously had way too much energy, you could barely keep up you felt so dizzy.  “Zashi!” You keen at the deeper angle and he groans. “God you sound almost as good as you look.” He presses his forehead into your shoulder, “I’m gonna fucking cum babe-”  The way you were gripping him like you’d float away if you didn’t was already more than enough for him, but the way you’re nodding, eyes squeezed shut as you gasp it out at him, “me too!” If that didn’t do the trick then nothing would.  He’s against your chest, heaving. “Feel better?” You ask pulling a long strand of hair between your fingers. He hums and presses his face into your neck.  “Yeah I do..”  “It’s still pretty early.” You curl your arms around his back and drag your fingers over the shifting muscles below. He nods at that and takes a deep breath of you. “So..” You prompt him. “I could help you work out what you need to get done tomorrow?”  “We could go again?” You speak in unison.  “Again!?” You flush, “Zash you have way too much energy!”