˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

kuroo tetsuro memorized what neutrinos were because of the way the sun touched your skin. trillions of them passed through you every moment, and with the sheer curtains open on this particular morning, he wished he was one of them. kuroo liked to consider himself a man of logic; after all, he used the same approach for volleyball as he did when dealing with the japan volleyball association. he (whether subconsciously or not) analyzed what existed and made decisions that worked. that's why he was captain. that's why he'd been scheduled for a promotion (though he'd been sworn to secrecy — he wasn't supposed to know that). it was also why he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what to do about you.

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?”

bestfriend!yuji who starts sitting a little too close during your weekly movie nights. like, shoulders touching close, knees brushing every time one of you shifts. he swears it’s just because the couch is small.

bestfriend!yuji who notices you smell different tonight. good. really good. he keeps getting distracted, leaning a little closer without realizing, until you glance at him and he jerks back like he got caught doing something illegal.

bestfriend!yuji who laughs it off, scratching the back of his neck. “did you — uh — change your shampoo or something?” and when you tell him it’s your new perfume he just nods way too fast. “y—yeah. it’s nice.”

bestfriend!yuji who cannot focus on the movie anymore. like, at all. he’s hyperaware of everything. your leg pressed against his, your hand resting near his. the way you laugh softly at something on the screen. the way you glance at his lips when he talks.

yeah. bestfriend!yuji definitely notices that, and absolutely doesn’t know what to do about it.

bestfriend!yuji who keeps telling himself to just focus on the movie. eyes locked on the screen, nodding at the right moments, except he has no idea what’s going on anymore. something about a car chase? maybe?

bestfriend!yuji who keeps glancing at you anyway. quick, stolen looks. your profile lit by the tv glow, the way your lips part slightly when you’re focused, the way your lashes flutter when you blink.

yeah, he’s gone.

bestfriend!yuji who notices when your fingers shift a little closer to his on the couch cushion. he freezes. debates for a solid thirty seconds whether he should move his hand closer or not. because what if it’s weird? what if you didn’t mean to? what if you did?

bestfriend!yuji who feels you shift, your shoulder pressing more firmly into his, your knee hooking just slightly against his leg. now he’s really not watching the movie anymore.

bestfriend!yuji who finally risks a glance at you, and catches you already looking at him. oh. oh, shit.

bestfriend!yuji who goes completely red in two seconds flat, blinking at you like he forgot how to function.

bestfriend!yuji who forgets how to breathe when, minutes later, you’re straddling his lap, hands cupping his jaw, lips slotting against his in a way that’s definitely not a “just friends” kiss.

bestfriend!yuji who’s kissing you back before either of you really process how it started.

bestfriend!yuji who keeps pulling back just enough to mumble, “just—just as friends, okay?” like saying it will make it true. he immediately leans back in anyway, because your hands are gripping at his hoodie now, tugging him closer like you need him there.

bestfriend!yuji who’s blushing so hard it reaches his ears, hands tightening at your waist without him realizing. he makes a soft, needy sound into your lips, forgetting how to act normal when your hands slide up to the back of his neck, fingers lacing in his hair. he shivers — actually shivers — and that’s when he knows he’s in deep.

bestfriend!yuji who nods when you repeat “just friends” against his lips like a mantra. he keeps mumbling “just friends” like it’s a spell that’ll fix this.

(it doesn’t.)