Okay, first NSFW thread let's go! I hope y'all like it 😌💕
(There will probs be a bit of build-up and sorry if I forget any tags!)

Pairing: SeroBaku đŸ–€đŸ§Ą
CW: mental health struggles/nightmares, bondage, exposure therapy
Oh also I had some song inspirations for this if anyone is interested!

Unlike Pluto - Painted Dreams

Rival Sons - Tied Up
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Bakugou doesn’t remember exactly when it started.

He doesn’t remember most things—he barely remembers his own name—when Sero is pressing him down into the mattress and turning his mind into a blissful blank slate.
With Bakugou’s arms bound and legs spread, Sero is free to act as he pleases. Bakugou is vaguely aware he should probably feel exposed or vulnerable, maybe even a hint of shame, but he doesn’t. He just feels calm... calm and content.
/That/ has become one of the purposes of these late-night visits.

Sero, however, remembers with perfect clarity.

đŸȘąđŸȘąđŸȘą

Bakugou’s mind had been busy, far too busy, far too noisy. It thrummed and buzzed and gave him no rest, it riled him up and wound him tighter than +
a spring trap. His hair-trigger temper had more of a short fuse than usual and his already volatile personality was quicker to snap to anger at any given moment. To most, it probably looked like regular old Bakugou, but to his friends, there was a definite shift in his +
temperament from “tolerable” to “almost unbearable”.

Sero had been awake late one night, poring over the latest volume of a new manga and lounging out in his hammock. It was gone midnight when he heard a noise from the floor above; a thud, fleeting but violent in its intensity.
He paused for a few moments, debating going back to his reading before he heard it again and decided to investigate.

Taking a trip to the floor above his own he found that no one else seemed to have noticed the noise, likely all in too deep of a sleep to hear or care.
He paused on the landing again, wondering in the stifling silence if it had been his mind simply playing tricks on him, when suddenly the noise came once more. This time much closer and accompanied by a muffled, guttural shout, one that he’d recognise anywhere.
He padded softly over to Bakugou’s dorm room and knocked quietly on the door.

After a few moments Bakugou wrenched it open; pale, soaked in sweat and wearing a cheap imitation of his usual scowl. It was evident that something was very wrong.
“Wow, dude, you look like crap,” the words flew out of Sero’s mouth before he could stop them.

Bakugou’s scowl darkened and he made to slam the door in his face but Sero managed to brace an arm and stop it from fully closing, determined to fix things he forced his way inside.
The room was a mess. Scorch marks peppered the wall closest to Bakugou’s bed, his sheets were singed and soaked in sweat (what was left of them). His desk chair was upturned and the once orderly array of books and knick-knacks on his desk had been carelessly strewn +
across the floor, as if swiped off in a rage.

“Get out,” Bakugou’s voice was cold from his spot on the bed, perched on the edge with his head in his hands.

“Wh-what happened in here?” Sero stared wide-eyed at the mayhem but could only formulate his own wild guesses.
“I said /get the hell out/!” Bakugou barked at him.

He stood suddenly, striding over to fist his hand in the collar of Sero’s shirt, pushing him up against the nearest wall.

“What gives you the right to come fucking barging in here, haah?!” his voice was ragged, angry, +
but tinged with a fragility just barely hiding below the surface.

“I heard something, noises,” Sero tried to keep his voice calm and steady, his hand coming up to hold Bakugou’s wrist in an attempt to free himself, “I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“Tch! Well, everything’s fucking /peachy/,” he sneered and let go of Sero’s shirt, slapping his hand away, “You can leave now.”

Sero didn’t move.

“I said everything’s /fine/! Just go back to bed,” Bakugou insisted with a slight crack in his voice, his frown faltering, +
”why do you even care?”

“You’re my friend, dude
 why wouldn’t I care?” Sero said softly, offering him a sympathetic smile.

He reached out to pat Bakugou’s shoulder and the blond recoiled like he’d been burned.
Bakugou's breathing quickened and he backed away until his calves bumped into the edge of the bed.

The room was a silent battle for dominance; Sero waiting for Bakugou to speak, and Bakugou waiting for Sero to leave.
“Look, man, if I have to tape you up and sit your ass down to get you to talk to me, I will,” Sero joked, attempting to break the tension.

Suddenly Bakugou went pale, his hands started to shake without his permission and he balled them into fists to try to hide it.
Sero approached slowly and placed his hands gently on Bakugou’s shoulders—trying to suppress his feelings of guilt as he saw the very obvious flinch at his touch—and attempted to manoeuvre him into sitting down.
“Did I say something wrong? You gotta talk to me, man,” Sero crouched down in front of him, sitting on his haunches and peering up into the shadows of Bakugou’s face as he hung his head, “please?”

“...-ares 
-eing ...-ained,” he mumbled.
“Hmm?” Sero leaned in closer to try to hear.

Bakugou sighed.

“I get nightmares about being restrained...” he repeated, it was barely more than a whisper but it was enough to, ironically, tie Sero’s stomach in knots.
“The sludge guy from middle school, the League at Kamino, even the goddamn sports festival,” he continued, “it just fucking puts me on edge and I end up
 like this.”

He gestured at his current condition, and at the state of the room, before slumping forward with his head in +
his hands and Sero’s heart clenched. Bakugou didn’t take opening up to people lightly so this must have been one hell of a nightmare. Sero loathed to admit that he felt /honoured/ to be the person currently sitting in front of him, experiencing this side of Bakugou Katsuki.
“I’m sorry I made the joke,” Sero whispered, “I didn’t mean...”

He had heard about the sludge villain on the news, how he’d taken over the body of a young middle schooler and used him like some kind of sick puppet, all because of his strong quirk.
He didn’t know Bakugou then but it had still turned his stomach and made him thankful, for once, for not having a quirk that made him stand out.

Sero hadn’t been at Kamino—something a small part of him still regretted to this day—but he’d had the restraints that Bakugou +
had worn described to him. It made his blood run cold to know he’d been in that condition surrounded by killers.

The sports festival had been the most bitter pill to swallow though, knowing that their own teachers could—or would—do that to a student.
Sero of all people knew that Bakugou was not an easy person to talk to, especially when his temper flared, but to bypass talking altogether and resort directly to
 /that/? It never sat well with him that they didn’t even try.
“It’s whatever,” Bakugou huffed and leaned backwards on his hands, staring up at the ceiling with a frown, “it’s not like you knew.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Sero let himself fall back to sit cross-legged on the floor, careful to avoid any of the scattered belongings.
“You can keep your goddamn mouth shut about all of this,” he tilted his head down, crimson eyes piercing Sero with a fiery gaze, “I mean it, you better keep this shit to yourself.”

Sero held his hands up in surrender.

“Of course, man, but like...” he glanced around the room, +
“what can I do for you /now/?”

“S’fine, just go to bed, I can do this shit on my own,” Bakugou grumbled, letting himself fall completely onto his back and throwing an arm across his eyes, “M’used to it anyway so don’t bother.”
Sero groaned in frustration and scrubbed his hands down his face, he /knew/ Bakugou was stubborn but it was still maddening to experience firsthand. He stood and began collecting items from the floor in his arms and arranging them back on the desk, returning the desk chair to +
its upright position and tucking it in as he went.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bakugou sat up again, a genuine look of confusion on his face.

“I’m making a start on this mess since you won’t cut the crap and tell me how to actually help you,” Sero answered matter-of-factly +
and glanced over at the bed where Bakugou was sitting, “you can’t sleep in those sheets.”

“I know that, dipshit, you think this is my first time?” Bakugou scoffed incredulously.

“I /know/ you can do it, that’s not being questioned, but you look /exhausted/, dude. +
Just let me handle it, accept some help for once,” Sero sighed, “take my bed, I’ll come down and sleep in my hammock once I’m done here.”

Bakugou’s face twisted through a variety of conflicting emotions, all of them looked uncomfortable. He ran a hand down his face and groaned.
“You’re not gonna let me have a say in this are you?” he couldn’t meet Sero’s eyes, his features growing more fatigued by the minute.

“Nope, so you might as well just roll with it,” Sero chuckled and pointed towards the door, “get your ass downstairs and get some sleep.”
“Tch! So bossy,” the hint of a smile twitched at the corner of Bakugou’s mouth and he stood up from the bed.

“I learn from the best,” Sero grinned over his shoulder at him, continuing to pick items up off the floor and restore them to their rightful places.
Bakugou rid himself of the tank top drenched in cold sweat and tossed it into his hamper, pulling a clean one from his closet and pulling it over his head. Sero averted his eyes and returned to the task at hand, it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already seen before but +
for whatever reason he felt his heart flutter behind his ribs.

Bakugou hesitated by the door and looked back as if debating whether or not he should really leave but Sero shot him a defiant stare and pointed at the door again.
For once in his life Bakugou seemed too tired to put up a fight, he slipped out into the hall and Sero breathed a sigh of relief.

He finished cleaning up the room as best he could and by the time he returned to his own room he was pleased to see that Bakugou had /actually/ +
listened to him, crawled into his bed and managed to fall back asleep. Sero pulled out a spare blanket and pillow from the back of his closet and was on his way to the hammock when he paused.
Bakugou’s face was oddly serene, it was a strange sight to see him devoid of frown lines or a sneer. Just simply... calm. In the warm lamplight, with such soft features, Sero would even admit that Bakugou was handsome...

The fluttering sensation in his chest appeared again and +
he quickly flicked off the lamp, climbed into the hammock and made himself comfortable. Sero wasn’t sure where /that/ thought had come from but he tried to shake it from his mind and blamed it on his exhaustion; it seemed like a Future Sero problem.

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Several weeks passed and Bakugou experienced more nightmares. Sero had been kind enough to tell him to knock on his door any time and, as much as Bakugou felt conflicted to do so, he had since found himself outside Sero’s door on a handful of occasions when the nights +
had been particularly bad.

They would usually talk for a little while, as much as Bakugou felt comfortable with, to settle his mind before Sero would once again give up his bed and retire to the hammock. On one occasion they had put on a movie +
and both fallen asleep sprawled out on the floor with their backs against Sero’s bed. Bakugou had awoken first to find his head resting on Sero’s shoulder. He had peered up at his friend's sleeping face and his stomach had done a flip that he couldn’t quite explain.
He untangled himself before Sero woke up and never spoke a word of it.

It felt strange to have someone to rely on in an emotional sense, who knew what he was going through and who was willing to help. Of course, Bakugou knew he had people who were there for him: Kirishima, +
the rest of the Squad—and as much as he hated to admit it, even Deku—but this was different. This was more open, more vulnerable, more /raw/, than what Bakugou was used to, and it left him feeling confused about how he was supposed to handle it.
Bakugou stood outside Sero’s door, shifting awkwardly on his feet as he debated knocking. It had been a particularly rough night and he didn’t really want to go back to his room, but ever since that night they fell asleep watching the movie he had felt oddly nervous around Sero.
He couldn’t put his finger on /why/.

He chewed the inside of his cheek and knocked, after a few moments Sero opened the door. His hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and he was already in the clothes he normally slept in, sleepily rubbing one of his eyes +
he instinctively stepped to the side to let Bakugou in. Bakugou felt a small pang of guilt at waking him.

He entered the room and Sero followed closely behind, getting out the spare bedding on autopilot.

“Bad one tonight?” he asked as he prepared the hammock. “Everything okay?”
“Wasn’t great, ” Bakugou mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed, “but I’ve had worse.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Sero slipped into the hammock and yawned.

“S’fine, it’s late, go back to sleep,” Bakugou responded, crawling under the covers and getting comfortable.
The sheets were still warm where Sero had been sleeping, and when Bakugou rested his head on the pillow he could smell the mellow, inviting scent of sandalwood and patchouli. Sero’s smell was oddly comforting and the thought made his stomach flip again.
He could feel a blush start to spread across his cheeks so he quickly turned off the lamp and plunged the room into darkness.

“...thanks though,” he whispered, almost as an afterthought.

đŸȘąđŸȘąđŸȘą
(CW: Nightmare sequence starting and ending with đŸ’€ for anyone that would prefer to skip this part 💖)
đŸ’€đŸ’€đŸ’€

It was dark. The kind of dark where you couldn’t see your own hand in front of your face. At least, that’s the term Bakugou would have used if he could have lifted his hands in the first place. His arms felt heavy, so very heavy. Where was he anyway?
He squinted around in the darkness but it truly was pitch black. He tried in vain to lift his arms and felt dread coil in his gut when he felt simultaneous tugs on his legs and heard the clinking of metal chains. He knew those sounds and sensations well, +
they were all too familiar: the League’s restraints.

He tried to take a step forward but it was like moving through syrup. His feet struggled to make any kind of headway in any direction, slipping or sinking and
 wait, sinking? Bakugou paused and realised that the "floor" +
was indeed rising around him, the thick, slimy substance creeping up towards his knees at an alarming rate. His breathing had started to quicken and his heart beat rapidly in his chest as he stood rooted to the spot.

”Hey kid, welcome back,” a voice whispered in Bakugou’s ear.
It was deep and dark, and it didn’t sound human, like the creaking of old metal in a shipyard. It sent a shiver down Bakugou’s spine as he remembered who the voice belonged to and he had to stifle a scream. He couldn’t let him in, not again.
The sludge was up past his waist and his body began to ripple with tremors.

“Aww, not gonna scream for me this time?” the voice in the dark hovered near his other ear, an oozing tendril working its way up Bakugou’s neck, towards his mouth.

Bakugou clamped his mouth shut +
as hard as he could and tried to wrestle himself away but it only made the voice laugh. Bakugou was now submerged up to his shoulders and his he was starting to hyperventilate, the oppressing darkness and metallic laughter overpowering his senses until he—

đŸ’€đŸ’€đŸ’€
“–ugou! /Bakugou!/”

Bakugou felt firm, warm hands on his shoulders shaking him awake, his eyes snapped open and attempted to adjust to the soft lamplight of Sero’s room. Sero looked frantic with worry, eyes filled with concern and sympathy +
that, for once, didn’t make Bakugou feel like he was being challenged or underestimated. They felt reassuring in a way he wasn’t used to but suddenly found he so desperately craved.

His heart was still hammering in his chest and his lungs felt like he’d +
been hyperventilating for real; his inhales felt shallow, like taking in too much air would cause a coughing fit. His hands felt clammy, but at least he could move them, he felt a tremendous sense of relief in being able to flex his fingers.
The thick, sweet smell of nitroglycerin permeating the room, however, was unsettling.

“Are you okay, man? I woke up ‘cause you started making noises like you were in pain,” Sero’s voice was shaky, “then you started thrashing like crazy and your quirk started going off
”
Bakugou sat up and looked around and, sure enough, there were singe marks across Sero’s sheets and he felt guilt settle heavily in his stomach.

“Shit,” he buried his face in his hands and groaned, “I didn’t mean to mess your place up too. Fuck!”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Sero attempted to put him at ease, “they’re just sheets, it doesn’t matter. I was more worried about you. You alright? You don’t usually have another nightmare in one night.”

Bakugou thought about it, they hadn’t talked anything over, and he hadn’t done +
anything to distract himself before going back to sleep. He hadn’t had to heart to keep Sero awake at the time, but he didn’t want to tell him that. It wasn’t Sero's fault, he didn’t want to be a burden. He could do this /fine/ all on his own before, why was it a problem /now/?
“I’m fine, just bad luck I guess,” he lied, touching the marks in the sheets absent-mindedly.

Sero studied him curiously for a moment before suddenly standing, pulling the edges of the sheets off the bed while Bakugou was still in it and eliciting a startled yelp from the blond.
“What the hell, Tape Face?!”

“Well, you can’t sleep in these now,” Sero replied with a sheepish smile, “I’m afraid all I have to hand is the bedding from the hammock so, uh
 we’ll have to bunk up.”

Bakugou’s face instantly flushed and his stomach flipped /again/, +
he wasn’t entirely sure how to process that information but he was surprised by how much he didn’t immediately hate the idea.

“Fine. Whatever,” he grumbled.

Bakugou hopped off the bed to finish pulling the rest of the sheets off +
and tossed them on the floor to be dealt with later. Sero grabbed his pillow and the spare bedding from the hammock and threw them onto the bed, arranging them as best he could.

There was an awkward pause between them as they observed the new sleeping arrangements.
Bakugou genuinely contemplated just fleeing the scene and returning to his own trashed bed instead, but if he was honest, he /did/ find that he slept better in Sero’s room
 for some reason.

That, and he wasn’t a fucking coward.
He crawled into the bed and scooched over so that Sero had enough space to get in, then promptly laid down on his side facing the wall to hide the pink currently flooding his cheeks. There was a beat of silence before he felt the mattress dip behind him and then Sero settled.
“Do you wanna talk before you sleep? It seems like it usually helps,” Sero said softly.

Bakugou didn’t respond, something about tonight, in this setting, had him feeling riled up in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
He didn’t feel like talking, he just wanted to go back to—a hopefully blissful—sleep.

“Look man, I know you lied earlier,” Sero spoke again, his voice smaller than Bakugou had heard it before, “I don’t believe it was just bad luck, +
we didn’t talk it out or take your mind off it or anything. You just let me go back to sleep and then this happened. Don’t lie to me, let me help, /please/?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes in frustration, this wasn’t something he wanted to deal with right now but it didn’t seem like +
he was going to have much of a choice. He rolled over onto his other side to answer and his breath caught in his throat when he found Sero’s face inches away from his own.

“Oh, h-hey,” Sero stammered before breaking into a small smile, taken aback by Bakugou’s sudden turn.
Bakugou could feel his face heating even more at their proximity and he gulped audibly.

“Whadd’ya want?” he muttered, his eyes inadvertently travelled across the curves and features of Sero’s face.

He hadn’t really paid much attention to Sero before, +
truth be told he hadn’t really paid much attention to /anyone/ before, not like this anyway. It’s not like he’d ever been in this kind of situation either. Sero’s jawline was sharp, his features narrow and slim, and his eyes kind.
His smile was what stood out the most though, it’s what made the little flip in Bakugou’s stomach turn into a heated coil that sunk lower in his abdomen. He worried his bottom lip and tried his best to tear his eyes away from Sero’s smile, from his lips, but

“I thought you might have wanted to talk this time,” Sero murmured, his breathing seemed shallow and Bakugou could make out a blush on his face in the lamplight, “or perhaps you’d prefer a distraction.”
A /distraction/. The words hung in the air, heavy with implications. Bakugou’s mind was racing and his body felt hot, too hot and too tense.

“You get stuck in your head too much,” Sero spoke gently, “so just answer me this...”
Sero moved the last couple of inches closer until their noses were almost touching, his hand coming up underneath Bakugou’s chin to tilt his mouth upwards slightly towards his, then at the last second, he stopped.

“Yes or no?”
Bakugou’s breath hitched and he thought his heart was going to give out, but he let instinct take over and whispered back the only thing that seemed right.

“Yes.”

Sero’s lips were on his in an instant, soft and warm, gentle but with an underlying desperation +
that Bakugou would be lying if he said he didn’t reciprocate.

Sero’s hand moved from under his chin to cup the side of his face, a thumb brushing softly against his cheekbone. Bakugou’s mind was already a blur, he moved a trembling hand up to Sero’s shoulder and +
his hand gripped the shirt to ground himself.

Sero’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip and he parted them, allowing Sero’s tongue to slip inside. Bakugou shivered at the sensation and a small moan was swallowed by Sero’s eager mouth.
Sero’s other hand had snaked behind him and Bakugou felt his skin erupt in goosebumps as Sero ran a hand through the short hair at the base of his neck.

Bakugou was enveloped in that familiar sandalwood and patchouli scent that had become synonymous with comfort and safety, +
he felt like he was floating. It was a lot.

Bakugou broke them apart with a ragged gasp, his face flushed, /painfully/ aware of how aroused he’d become over a single kiss.

“You okay?” Sero asked with a breathy chuckle before pausing, “wait, was– was that your first kiss?”
“...Piss off,” Bakugou huffed, his tone holding only a fraction of his usual bite and his face turning even more impossibly red.

Sero grinned cheekily at him, leaning forward to pepper small kisses along his jawline all the way up to his ear.
“Just let me know if you want me to stop,” he whispered, before dipping his head to lick a stripe down Bakugou’s neck.

“If you stop, I’ll fucking end y– ahh!” Bakugou’s retort was cut off at the feeling of Sero’s tongue and he cried out, +
reaching up to grip desperately at the back of Sero’s shirt.

Bakugou gasped as Sero sucked a spot on his neck, teeth just lightly grazing skin, and then his head was swimming. The hand in Bakugou’s hair tightened its grip ever so slightly, +
guiding and tilting his head to give Sero better access. Sero lightly bit down and elicited a hiss from the blond, his other hand started to slide down his side to the natural dip of Bakugou’s waist and they both shivered.
Bakugou felt a slight pressure on his hip as Sero pushed and suddenly he’d been rolled onto his back, Sero’s mouth still on his neck and one of his thighs pressing between Bakugou’s legs. Sero came back up to Bakugou’s lips and met him in a burning kiss, +
the hand in his hair moving to the pillow near Bakuou’s head so he could prop himself up on his elbow, while his other hand stroked lazy circles on Bakugou’s hip.

Bakugou thought he was going to combust, it was all simultaneously too much and not enough.
His hands found their way under Sero’s shirt and he scratched along his shoulder blades after Sero shifted his leg and pressed further into him. His moan was devoured once more by Sero’s tongue and soon he found his hips canting upwards of their own accord, seeking more friction.
Sero broke the kiss and looked down at Bakugou’s face; they were both flushed, pupils blown wide, lips kiss-bitten and red.

“Something you want?” Sero’s voice was hoarse but playful.

He smirked and brought his hand away from Bakugou’s hip to cage his head in from both sides +
and then he rolled his hips /once/, slow but hard. Bakugou /whined/ at the pressure of Sero’s thigh on his cock, which was now straining against his sweats.

He could feel Sero now, equally as hard, pressing against his hip, and the thought just made his body burn even hotter.
“F-f-fuck...” Bakugou sighed shakily.

Bakugou couldn’t stop his hips from jerking up to meet Sero’s next slow grind downwards and then both let out a groan of pleasure.

Sero shuddered on his elbows and Bakugou’s hands slipped lower, +
digging his fingernails into the dips at the base of Sero’s spine, urging him to grind more, harder, /anything/...

Sero was all too eager to comply, pushing Bakugou’s legs further apart to fit his other thigh between them +
so that he could properly rut in a slow, teasing rhythm. Bakugou’s head fell back deeper into the pillow, his mouth open in a whimper at the feeling of Sero’s dick rubbing against his own through their clothing.
He could feel precum begin to soak through the fabric against his stomach, the chafing was torture and he let out another whine.

“S’okay, I got you,” Sero’s voice trembled as he bit his own lip.
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