#hero drabble

[grenadehearts]

katsuki with a mean girlfriend.. smut

katsuki swears the universe gave him the meanest, brattiest damn girl alive.

always angry. always quick to bite back. always faster than him with a sharper insult that even he wouldn’t dare cross.

you’re rough around the edges, sharp-tongued and demanding — barking orders at him like he’s some underling. do this, fix that, not like that, idiot. and if it’s not perfect, you're pouting, arms crossed, throwing the dirtiest, most lethal glares at him that leave him seeing red — not with anger, but with something worse.

because fuck, he's so pussywhipped he can't even think straight when you get like that. that scowl, the cruel curl of your lips when you talk down to him... it’s a migraine and a goddamn turn-on all rolled into one.

but this — this right here —

when he’s got you spread out bare for him, your thick thighs trembling under the squeeze of his palm, ankles hiked up to your ears, caged in a brutal mating press —

this is when katsuki wins.

when your sopping cunt clutches at him, sweet and wet and so needy, when all that sharpness bleeds out of you and leaves something soft, pliant, and his.

the change is fucking addictive.

that bratty mouth, the one that usually cuts him down in two seconds flat, now only spills high, broken whimpers, breathless gasps, words slurring together into sweet, incoherent babbling.

“ngh, k-katsuki—! f-fuck—!”

voice wrecked, desperate, so pretty when you try to snap at him and only end up whining.

“yeah? thought you had somethin’ to say, princess,” he growls, slamming his hips forward, skin smacking against skin, forcing another pathetic little moan out of you.

your fingernails dig into his shoulders, your glare watery and useless now, any fight you thought you had long pounded out of you.

he knows he's in charge.

knows your voice holds no bark, no bite, nothing but soft broken pleas when he's fucking you this deep into the mattress.

the only time you're really his — the only time you’re sweet —

and katsuki plans to drag it out for as long as he fucking can.

masterlist link here.

taglist: @twoplayergaymers @socialobligation @van9lla @dienamiight @sk1ppy-art @ni-aaaaaaa @kelisewrites @chosostonguepiercing @izzymff @swuzzin @aryuunachigiri @badslittlemuffin @yuhkai @candiiee @ugh-ellie69 @khloefrlsss @camydoesstuff @11thlife02 @alixezae @diamondocean001 @izycarrot7 @vivitg @cupkiki @wonubby @1explosionextinguisher @lotusstarr @tatumsscream96

[suksatoru]

smile for the camera! — ft. k. bakugo x fem!reader

katsuki bakugo is tricked into smiling during an interview when they bring up your name!

you didn't notice it at first, but katsuki bakugo developed smile lines after meeting you.

he didn't smile much as a kid. most of his baby pictures consisted of him either crying, screaming, or making some sort of vulgar gesture at the camera. it only got worse as he entered his teen years. his temper calmed down a bit, sure. but the chances of catching katsuki bakugo smiling were as rare as catching lightening in a bottle.

the paparazzi were well aware of the famous dynamight barely having any pictures of him smiling out on the internet—there were three singular photos out there that consisted of him with a somewhat pleased expression on his face, and the only reason he looked that way was because you were in frame right beside him.

it seemed to be a well known fact that getting bakugo to smile was nearly impossible—but the current interviewer sitting in front of bakugo was determined.

"great explosion murder god dynamight—or, well, just dynamight sir—what would you say is your favorite part about being a hero?"

katsuki stops himself from rolling his eyes, already anticipating the rest of the interview's questions as he answers flatly

"the glory. the strength. and kicking ass—make that the first thing, actually."

"okay! now, i'd like to ask you a few more things..." the young woman chirps up, and katsuki sighs and tells her to continue. the next dozens of questions were just as he'd predicted—stuff like asking who his biggest inspiration was, what kind of merch his team would be putting out in the upcoming months, and what he thought his weaknesses were.

"—and i don't have weakness. i'm fucking perfect, ask anybody. now, are we done here?" he snaps, rolling his shoulders as he moves to stand up, eyes flitting towards the exit with nothing but disinterest

he'd spent an entire hour answering these stupid questions when he could've been out fighting villains, finishing up his paperwork, literally anything else would be more time fulfilling than answering baseless questions like these ones.

the interviewer's eyes widen when katsuki stands up from his seat, stretching his arms above his head with a grunt before she quickly interrupts him

"what about your wife!"

"....eh?"

"your wife!" she says, quickly collecting herself

"could you tell us about her? it seems like many of your fans are interested in learning more regarding you two! you have a very private relationship, so it's only natural for people to be curious!"

katsuki blinks, absorbing her words. slowly, his feet—once pointed towards the exit—shift ever so slightly towards the woman

"well...what do you want to know?"

and that's how katsuki found himself sitting in the same seat another hour later. except this time, he had the dorkiest grin ever plastered on his face.

"oh i knew i wanted to marry her the first time she yelled at me—she was pretty feisty back in our ua days. still is, but now all the insults she throws my way usually have the word babe or honey added at the end. she has a clever mouth, i'm warnin' ya—you don't wanna get into an argument with her."

the interviewer laughs, and katsuki decides he might come back to this station another time if they asked. he's... well, simply put, having fun.

he leaves after another forty minutes, only because his manager literally dragged him out of the room—he had a meeting to attend and then his patrol—but he left waving at the camera crew and in a far more better mood than he'd arrived in.

katsuki spends the rest of the day getting through all of his hero duties, the interview slowly being pushed to the back of his mind as he focuses on finishing all his work and coming home to you.

it's nearly nine pm when he opens the door to your shared apartment—groaning about how tired he was and how you better not be asleep—when he hears your padded feet running towards the main entryway to greet him

"you're home!"

he offers you a slanted grin, opening his arms for a hug

"missed ya today," he mutters, pressing a kiss onto your scalp as you peer up at him with a grin—looking a little too happy.

"what're ya cheesing so hard about?"

you hum, tapping the back of his thigh with a knowing grin

"your ma called. guess what she told me?"

katsuki groans, shrugging off his gauntlets and boots before tugging you towards the couch in the living room, flopping onto it while mumbling under his breath and pulling you towards his chest

"you two devils were probably gosspin' about me, that old hag better not have sent you any pictures or i swear—"

"she told me to turn on the tv and head to channel seven."

katsuki pauses, staring at you with furrowed brows. well, it couldn't have been him on channel seven, right? he didn't have any crazy villains to deal with for once, so it wouldn't make sense for him to be on one of the main channels today.

"what..."

he smacks his forehead with an embarrassed groan when you pull out your phone and show him your recording of his interview. you're practically bouncing on the couch beside him with glee as you shove the screen in his face

"you're smiling! they made it the cover of their video, too—gosh you look so cute when you smile! and you're talking about me!"

katsuki huffs, but watches you play back the video with a cheesy grin on your face. your round eyes are illuminated by the screen, and you re-watch the video with your lips parted in awe

"you got the real thing right in front of you but you'd rather watch that...i see how it is." he grumbles, something similar to a pout forming on his face when you still don't acknowledge him—too busy watching his video as you bring the phone closer to your face

"i'm going to screenshot your smiling face in this video and make it my profile picture on insta—"

he snatches the phone out of your hand, powering it off before tossing it aside and wrapping his strong arms around your waist in an iron grip

"i'll make that one of you snoring and drooling all over my chest my profile picture if you even think about it."

"i'm pretty sure half the comments on that video literally have your smiling face as their profile picture."

"...well that's a lot of people i'm gonna have to sue."

[bakuhve]

boyfriend katsuki doesn’t know, or care, about the difference between your wants and needs.

you’re out of your favorite lip gloss? it’s sitting on your desk the next morning, the exact shade, down to the brand, like he memorized it months ago.

you mention craving a drink in passing? he’s pressing the bottle into your hand within minutes, like it just magically appeared in his pocket.

you linger a second too long in front of a display window, eyes catching on a delicate necklace? its draped around your neck by nightfall.

when katsuki’s your boyfriend, the world bends to your desires. because if you want it, then in his mind, you need it. and katsuki always makes sure you have what you need.

[dollyfetti]

“do you think we’re soulmates?”

“i don’t believe in that shit.” katsuki’s hand tangles in your messy hair sprawled against the pillow he fought you over and ultimately gave to you with a small roll of his eyes.

you huff against his chest, frowning at his words. “you don’t think we were meant to be?”

“hell no.” he grins almost a little mockingly

“why not..?” you mutter, thankful your face is out of his sight because your disappointed expression is really quite laughable.

it’s silent for a long moment, and in the dark room, you assume he fell asleep. you sigh, cautiously readjusting your position to be more comfortable as you shut your eyes, ready to sleep.

that is until his hand drops from your hair onto your arm, rubbing small circles. “i don’t think i’m meant to be with anyone.” he whispers, staring up at his ceiling, still covered in glow in the dark stars from when he was a kid. “i think i just got lucky.”

you keep your eyes closed, half asleep as you respond immediately, “well, i don’t believe in luck. everything happens for a reason, suki.”

“that’s your prerogative, i guess.” he hums, his motions slowing down against your arm, resting there lazily.

“mm,” you wrap your arms around his torso, your cheek smushing against his chest.

another long moment passes, and katsuki’s still staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

“you asleep?” he murmurs, careful not to wake you if you are.

“no, baby.”

he nods to himself, leaning down to plant a kiss on your head. “okay. i love you. thank you.” he whispers before resting back on his bed and shutting his eyes.

“thank you for what?” you reply, smiling softly at his affection.

he shrugs lightly before sleep takes over him, his arms engulfed around you without another word.

[seumyo]

todoroki shouto and his 8-month-old son having identical pouty faces.

It becomes trouble when your husband and 8-month-old son are quiet as you’re about to finish preparing dinner. You could sense it, like a superpower you could only unlock when you reached a certain milestone in life.

“It’s just a piece of soft biscuit. Maybe we can give him only a little—“

“No, Shou.”

You had only denied your son a snack once, and yet, the betrayal in his big, watery eyes made it seem like you had committed an unforgivable crime.

Your eight-month-old son, snug in Todoroki’s arms, was pouting hard—his chubby cheeks puffed out, lips trembling, and his tiny hands curled into fists against his father’s chest. Tears clung to his thick lashes, threatening to spill at any moment. He was the very image of pitiful distress.

And Todoroki?

He wasn’t much better.

He’s holding your son with an almost identical expression—unmistakably sulking, his lips pressed together in silent protest (but he knew he could never win this war against you). It didn’t help that your son was his near-perfect replica, down to the way his tiny eyebrows furrowed in quiet displeasure. The only major difference was this little boy inherited your eyes.

Thank the heavens, because you almost came to the conclusion that Todoroki reproduced by himself via asexual reproduction.

Because it was dangerous how alike they looked.

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. “Oh, come on. It was just one snack.”

Todoroki’s grip on your son shifted slightly as he responded, voice flat but clearly displeased. “It was just a small piece.”

The baby, as if understanding that his father was taking his side, whimpered softly and nuzzled closer to his father’s chest, letting out a tiny, heart-wrenching sniffle.

“Dinner is literally a minute away. He’ll survive.”

“He might starve and lose his healthy body,” Todoroki tells you warily.

“Shou, take one good look at our son. He’s chubbier than any of his older cousins, plus, we feed him formula 5 times a day, he eats solid food twice, and even gets a snack when he wakes up from his naps—so don’t tell me he’ll starve when he eats more than we do combined.”

Your husband didn’t argue further, but his silence spoke volumes. He gently rubbed your son’s back, sighing as the little boy let out another sniffle. You knew this game—Todoroki might not be saying anything, but his entire posture screamed, “I think you’re being unfair, but I won’t push it… even though I’m clearly upset.”

“The pouting isn’t going to work on me.”

Todoroki blinked, expression unchanged. “I’m not pouting.”

“You are,” you told him. “And he’s just copying you.”

At that, he finally glanced down at the baby in his arms. Your son blinked up at him, sniffling again before sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“…I think this is just his natural expression,” Todoroki finally said, deadpan.

“Uh-huh. I don’t think we’ll ever need a DNA test to prove that he’s yours.”

“Why would we need a DNA test when I’m the only man you’ve ever been with? And our son also looks like me—“

“Oh, Shou. It was a joke,” you sigh lovingly.

“Oh.”

Todoroki hummed, shifting your son slightly so he could wipe away a stray tear from the baby’s cheek. “Your mother is strict,” he murmured, speaking softly to him as if he wasn’t right in front of you. “Very heartless.”

“Excuse me?”

The baby hiccupped, seemingly agreeing.

Todoroki glanced up at you, the slightest hint of amusement evident in his eyes. “It’s true.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “Unbelievable. If I left meals to you, he’d be living off of cold soba and whatever random snacks you keep in the fridge.”

Todoroki didn’t deny it (for the most part).

“But I do take cooking classes now...”

“Mhm.”

He gently bounced your son in his arms, his gaze softening as your baby yawned, snuggling closer to his chest now that the dramatics had settled.

You sighed, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to the top of your son’s head. “You’ll thank me later, little pouty boy,” you murmured before glancing up at your husband. “And you—stop ganging up on me with him.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he replied, completely straight-faced.

You gave him a knowing look. “Uh-huh.”

A comfortable silence settled between you before you turned back to the stove, giving the curry one last stir. “Dinner’s ready.”

He smiled. “Finally.”

You shot him a playful glare, though there was no real heat behind it. You took your son from his arms, adjusting him on your hip before pressing a small kiss to his chubby cheek.

“Alright, come on, little pouty boy.”

Todoroki followed closely behind. “Which one?”

You laughed at that.

“Both of you.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[strwbrrykthv]

you and katsuki who arent just friends. theres always prolonged eye contact and not so subtle touches. youre drawn to him at outings and hes drawn to you.

if youre not sitting in his lap at a party or bar youre right beside him and his hand is on you. it could be his hand on your thigh, your back, or sitting beside you just barely touching you with his finger tips. and if youre not within arms distance you never get out of his sight.

everyone in your friend group knows that you both are made for each other and constantly pick on him.

“bro if you dont make a move i might have to step up.” denki grins at katsuki as hes sitting in the booth watching you talk with mina at the bar.

“ha, id like to see you try”

denki perks up, slipping out of the booth and sauntering over to you and mina at the bar, “uh mina will you excuse us for a second i need to talk with this fine lady right here” your eyes immediately dart to katsukis as he lets out a huff of laughter at your reaction.

he finds it humorous that denki thinks any of his flirting will land with you. he hears denki call you the pet names katsuki himself calls you and watches as every time your eyes dart back to him saying so many unspoken words such as “did he just call me mama???” and “are you really just gunna sit there and let this happen?”

mina slips in the booth opposite katsuki and chuckles at him watching you with a smile, “you think you would be angry watching a guy try to flirt with your ‘not’ girl” using air quotes to mock him, “not enjoying it and even smiling.”

“well when she looks for me after every sentence its kinda hard to think she’s being moved by his useless flirting” he scoffs as you look over at him with another plea in your eyes.

he sighs sliding out of his side of the booth and making his way towards you. “denks, listen. im totally flattered, like, so much, but… uh..-“

“shes not interested.” katsuki says with a small smirk looping his arm around your waist as you instinctively lean into him. you hook a finger into his nearest belt loop to hold him near.

“oh,” denki raises both hands defensively looking back and forth between the two of you. “hey man, look. i get it, totally. ill leave you two alone. dont kill me,” he says with a grin sending katsuki a not so subtle wink.

katsuki lets out a small laugh through his nose “mhmm, now why dont you go flirt with ears instead.” denki immediately stiffens, nodding his head before spinning around and speed walking to jiriou.

katsuki spins you to face him, moving his hand from your hip to your back, your finger still hooked into his belt loop. “tell me everything he told you. if he said something nasty ill kill him.”

you laugh looking into his eyes. you would think that they would be full of jealousy and harshness after watching a man flirt with the girl hes in love with, but his eyes were soft around the edges shimmering in the low light of the bar.

“oh you know, just the usual ‘im a pro hero, i can take good care of you, mama’, but i dont know why he called me mama. you only call me mama when youre tipsy and by then hes close to being blacked out” you ramble.

katsuki lowers his head to rest his forehead on your shoulder so that he can have his full attention on your voice traveling into his good ear. he loves the way you recite the whole exchange. the whole exchange between you and denki only about three minutes but dang can that guy talk.

“-and thats when you came over and rescued me” you say as katsuki raises his head.

“i saw a pretty mama in destress and couldnt help myself” he chuckles as you tilt your head so you can side eye him. a small commotion at the booth he was once sitting at draws both of your attention as denki yells across the bar to both of you, “hey! were going out to karaoke now, sero thinks he can beat me. yall wanna come?”

before katsuki can even roll his eyes and decline his offer youre pulling him by his belt loop to the group, “sure! i can whoop some tail in karaoke. whaddaya think katsu?”

“i think im too sober for this” he grumbles as the group exits the bar to head to karaoke with you and him in the back, your finger in his belt loop and his arm slung across your shoulders.

do no plagiarize or copy.

edit: i did the karaoke scene! 🩷

i had an idea for karaoke bkg but had to lead up to it first. this is my first time with writing convos and not just whats going on lol. lmk what you guys think!!

[klashwhip]

these past few weeks you’ve been watching tiktoks of people asking their signifcant other to peel/cut oranges for them. you watch the variety of reactions; from a hudband who tells his wife to ‘do it yourself, im not your maid’ to ‘you feel like an orange? i feel like an apple.’

wondering how your boyfriend would react to the request, you secretly record him while the both of you were lying on the bed—deep down you already know how he’d react.

“katsuki, baby,”

he grumbles in reply

“i feel like snacking on some oranges”

“i bought and cut some earlier, it’s in the fridge.”

he went beyond your expectations, you had expected him to be willing but not him reading your mind and anticipating the day you would crave some oranges, “huh…?”

he looks up from his phone and look at you, with an eyebrow raise, “what?”

“how do you know i want oranges?”

he shrugs, “i don’t know, lucky guess,” his mouth curled up a teeny tiny bit.

he can’t just say that he had a feeling you would, that would make him seem like a loser (he is, in every way possible.) he noticed you kept using your citrus lipbalm out of the 20 other flavours. you ordered 2 lemony-orangey-citrusy sodas this week alone, you unconsciously triple sniffed when you walk past the fruits —specifically the oranges—aisle. just a lucky guess.

[shouyuus]

thinking about making out with hawks and his scruff tickling your skin when he shifts his mouth down to suck big, wet hickeys against your neck, you pulling at his hair giggling and groaning at the same time, him pulling back with a lazy grin and hooded eyes like "hm"? but when you tell him that his scruff is tickling you, all he does is blink before leaning down to purposefully rub it against your face, making you squeal and try to squirm away but he's fast, way faster than you, so he'd pin you to his side and nuzzle you till you're breathless with laughter, chest heaving --

how he'd go still, relax his hold on you till he's just holding you in his lap, his eyes soft as he watches you.

"what?" you ask, reaching up to thumb at the scraggly bits of hair on his chin.

"nothin'. just... like lookin' at you, that's all."

when you crinkle your nose and try to hide your face, he bends down to tug your arms away, nuzzling his nose against yours with a soft groan, "goddamnit you're so fuckin' cute..." before melding his mouth to yours once more and kissing you deep enough to sting.

when he pulls back this time, both of you are breathless and he's got that dark, half-focused look in his eyes that makes your stomach clench in anticipation -- when he hoists you up into his arms and makes for the bedroom, you loop your arms around his shoulders and all he says is --

"well, let's go see if your thighs are as ticklish as your neck is."

[n1ght0f-nyx]

giving him a fast and rough handjob that lasts what feels like several hours, he lays on the bed, his thighs squirming and clenching as you bully his sticky cock, he has cum a bazillion times, cum pooling at his thighs and stomach "oh god.. please mommy..i need more...d-d-dont stop!!" he begs and pleads, and you cant help but grin "don't worry babyboy...i wasn't planning on it~"

[tulippanes]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐘! 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈

t. shoto x reader

. ݁₊ ⊹⁀ word count: 444 . ݁₊ ⊹⁀ warnings: N/A . ݁₊ ⊹⁀ type: drabble, fluff

cheeky! shoto todoroki who would fix your uniform in case anything was out of place, even the tiniest thing, and allowed his touch to remain a second longer.

cheeky! shoto todoroki whose voice would drop an octave lower and lean in close to your ear to whisper something to you, even when not needed, just to see you shudder and he’d have a ghost of a smirk on his face.

cheeky! shoto todoroki who would casually throw a random compliment at you so he could see your flustered expression. “you look pretty today,” he said in a monotone voice. it was out of the blue . you blinked at him and felt your face heating up. he looked you up and down, almost as if feeling satisfied with himself, before going on about his day.

cheeky! shoto todoroki who would sit beside you, close enough that his thigh is pressed right against yours. close enough that he could not so subtly brush his arm against yours. close enough that when he turned his head to look at you, he could see every single feature of yours. his eyes would stay glued on your face until you turned to look at him too, only for him to look away once you do.

cheeky! shoto todoroki whose hand would come up to wipe off any crumb on the corner of your mouth after you ate something. his thumb thoughtlessly lingered on your bottom lip before he pulled away to act as if nothing happened.

cheeky! shoto todoroki who would sulk if you were to say no to something he wanted you to say yes to. “stop pouting,” you said while he averted his gaze.

“i’m not pouting,” he quietly huffed. you sighed before you gave in, “if i say yes will you stop moping?”

“yes.”

cheeky! shoto todoroki who would pretend as if he’d done none of these things only to then subtly tease you about your reactions. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he bluntly stated. your eye twitched, you were visibly exasperated. “uhm, yeah you do. you know when you- er..” you trailed off as you tried to put your words together.

“when i what?” he asked with a tilt to his head.

“you know!”

“i really don’t,” he said while he took a step closer to you. he stared at you, watching you fumble your explanation.

you waved a hand in dismissal, “nevermind.” the tiniest of a smug smile curved on his lips, a suspicious little glint in his gaze and he hummed.

“did it make you nervous?”

“so you did know!” you shouted, and all he responded with was a light chuckle.

[grenadehearts]

whiny shameful izuku..

Izuku wasn’t supposed to think like this. Not about you. Not when you looked at him so sweetly—like he’d hung the stars, like he was everything good in the world. As if he were the lace that wrapped around you, made you whole. As if he was everything there was to cherish in life.

But shame had always clung to him like a second skin. And yet, there he was—palming his cock through his All Might boxers in the quiet dark of the bathroom, breath shallow, mind racing with thoughts too filthy to ever say out loud.

He didn’t deserve to touch himself to you. Not to your smile, not to your soft, pretty face. You were too fucking beautiful. Too kind. Too good for his selfish, disgusting pitiful desires.

But the ache in his pants was unbearable.

Every kiss—whether lazy and unhurried, all sighs and wandering hands, or a peck so quick his lips barely registered it—left him breathless, because his cock always knew, which made him painfully hard. And every time, he’d excuse himself with a red face and a strained laugh, locking himself away where he could be alone with his guilt and his need.

He would press his palm to the outline of his cock, feeling it pulse and twitch under the thin fabric of his boxers. Just a little pressure, just enough to imagine your hand there instead—your soft, polished fingertips dragging slow strokes along the clothed length, teasing the damp spot at the tip.

It never lasted long.

With a breathy, broken whimper, Izuku would give in, tugging down the waistband to release his cock with a quiet, needy sigh. Thick and flushed, it sprang free—pale skin stretched around swollen veins, the tip glistening with precum. He wrapped his fingers around the base and squeezed, like he could stop the shame from rising along with the heat.

“F-fuck…” he hissed, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own shallow breaths. “I’m sorry… I’m such a bad boyfriend…”

But even as he whispered apologies, his hand moved—slow, shaky strokes up his aching length, thumb swiping over the sensitive tip, gathering the sticky slickness and smearing it in soothing circles.

“Y/n,” he moaned, the sound breaking around the edges. “So pretty… I don’t deserve you…”

The guilt never left. But neither did the desire. Not when he imagined your pink lips wrapping around his cock, your eyes soft and teasing, your warm breath brushing against him as you took him in so slowly, so sweetly.

And when he finally came with a bitten-off cry, that was in every way jagged like, nails on a chalkboard. thighs trembling and hand slick with release, he crumpled forward, pressing his forehead against the cold tile wall, still murmuring breathless apologies into the empty room.

masterlist link here.

[suksatoru]

plushies galore! ⋆˚୨♡୧˚⋆ katsuki x you

katsuki lays sprawled on your bed with one, muscular arm shifting onto your side. he rips away the stuffed animal that was laying peacefully in your arms, before promptly chucking it full force across your room.

"katsuki!"

he ignores you, nuzzling into the spot where your hello kitty plush was laying previously — right on your chest — as he wraps his arms around you with a satisfied sigh

"what the hell was that for?" you whine, attempting to push him off — which unfortunately doesn't work, because he lowers all of his body weight on top of you as you gasp and squirm in his arms — telling the heavy bastard to get off and go get your plushy!

"she was lookin' at me funny. piece of shit."

katsuki yelps loudly when you pinch the muscle of his arm, scowling even further as you look at him with a glare

"she can't help the way her face is! go say sorry!"

he mutters something under his breath as you pull your brows together in confusion, watching his red eyes glare angrily at the hello kitty plushy that laid helplessly on the floor

"hm? what was that?" you asked sternly as a growl rumbles deep in chest. he lifts his head from your stomach, his lips curling into something similar to a pout as looks away

"she took my spot too... i guess." he huffs, flipping off your cuddly companion as you blink back your surprise. a soft giggle leaves your lips as you realize what was going on. katsuki was just jealous.

"you know you're my favorite, right?" you coo, gently threading a hand through his spiky hair as the tension from his back disperses. he sinks further into your body as he nods his head slowly

"damn right i am." he mutters, pressing feather soft kisses onto your tummy as you gently bop your nose against his

"i love you, katsuki." you whisper, watching his eyes soften a fraction at your words before he sighs

"i know, brat. everyone does."

he braces himself for impact the moment the words leave his mouth, hiding his face against your skin as you smack his head with a wack! he groans with a laugh, sending you a small smile — one that was specifically reserved for you.

"now, can you please go say sorry to her?" you cross your arms, looking down at him with a hopeful smile as he squints back, tightening his arms around your waist stubbornly.

"hell no."

"katsuki."

"...fine."

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | quirkless!reader, prohero!dynamight

a.n; I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA OKAY? I HAVE HAD IT IN MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE A YEAR ALREADY AND I NEED YA'LL TO RANT WITH ME ABOUT THISSSS<3 it's mostly enemies to lovers💕

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

"For the love of–... I'M COMING!"

It's Sunday morning. You have been expecting this day to wake up maybe mid-morning, with the gentle warm breeze coming from your open window; have an exquisite brunch that you have been planning and craving since Friday; maybe watch an episode or two of your favorite show before preparing a full spa day, with a long and refreshing bath included. That's how you have planned your Sunday to go.

But no… Apparently, someone's intention was to ruin the whole day for you while their knocks on your door were persistent and annoying at 6 freaking a.m.

You don't think about what you're wearing before stumbling towards the door, with the loud BANGS still sounding. You think of your poor neighbors next door and their newborn baby.

"This little shit," you protest, completely annoyed with this person knocking on your door like someone has died. "Someone better be dead or else…" You open the door in one strong pull and huff utterly annoyed when you encounter the person behind.

Vermillion eyes collide with yours, the intense hate and annoyance so palpable in the air it almost cuts you both.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

He tchs, rolling his eyes at you. The bile travels up through your esophagus, and you want to spit at him.

"Save the greetings, if you know what a decent greeting means… Well, considering how well you just did it, I doubt you fuckin’ know…"

The muscle at your temple twitches so hard, you believe he is actually able to see it. That would explain his upcoming smirk.

"The fuck do you want?" You repeat, not even caring or taking the time to follow this banter with him. You would normally do it, come back at him with a snarky response that would probably hurt his ego and he would answer back making you even angrier, and yada yada, nothing new to this ‘hate x hate’ relationship you had with this man in front of you. But today is not a day you planned on dealing with Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki.

He looks down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting a bit with the buttons on his all-black suit jacket you just now noticed he is wearing. Interesting; he never uses formal suits like this one if it isn't for a Hero Gala, and that was only once a year. Or that one time you remember he had to apologize to citizens through a TV interview with Deku because of a villain attack in Hokkaido they couldn't quite contain on time and caused a lot of material damage. You shake your head coming back to the present. Pro Hero Dynamight, a.k.a. Bakugou-annoying ass-Katsuki is standing right at your door, looking a bit nervous while playing with the buttons of his jacket, furrowing his eyebrows like he is angry even at the air he breathes.

You could have expected anything from this unpredictable man who infuriated you almost twenty-four hours a day, the seven days of the whole week. However, you were not expecting at all the words that come from his mouth after he looks up again and his eyes lock with yours.

"Fucking marry me."

Your eyes open wide. And the only thing you think of doing is punching him. And you do.

Your hands close in tight fists, and before saying anything, you punch his shoulder as strongly as you can with one. You know for sure your small and useless fist won't do any damage to this hulk of a man, but the meaning behind it it's what matters.

He simply looks at you in disbelief. "Ouch?" He smirks. He fucking smirks at you, and this time you punch his stomach, which does make him grunt and hover a bit in pain.

You attempt to close the door right at his face, but he suddenly pushes it with his hand and makes you waver a bit back, holding yourself on the door handle. He stands straight again, retrieving his hand from the door when he realizes he used more force than intended to prevent you from closing the door.

"I- umm- Shit, sorry, I didn't-..." 

You raise a hand to stop him from talking.

"Just fucking tell me what you want, so I can go back to bed and not see your ugly face for the rest of my day."

You watch in satisfaction how his face contours into full rage. And this time you smirk. 

"I fucking hate you…" He spits, and you bat your lashes at him while smiling.

"Ah, the feeling is mutual, baby."

Bakugou takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and holding himself on the door frame with strength. You're sure his hand shape will print on it, and you get more annoyed –if that's possible, but you have already learned that when Bakugou was involved, the anger was immeasurable– thinking that you will have to hire someone to fix that.

"I fucking hate you," he repeats through his teeth with his eyes still closed, but then he opens them, and his entire face changes into something you never expected to see. He looks at you, begging, "But I need you to marry me."

You look… perplexed. Again, never in your life have you ever come across the thought that those words would ever come from the man in front of you, much less towards you.

You open your mouth to say something, but the neighbor from the apartment in front of yours opens his door, standing there with his arms crossed and looking menacingly.

"Everything okay, Y/N?" His deep baritone voice asks. Bakugou turns his head and when he sees him, stands straight, head held high and you can imagine the type of defying expression on his face.

You roll your eyes. Men.

"Yes, Arisu, everything is fine. He's… a… friend," the word stung your tongue because you couldn't consider Bakugou that, even though you shared the same group of friends. But it wouldn't have been good having these two fight over something you still didn't understand what was happening; the thought of who of these two hulk men would win still was entertaining to think about. Your money was on Arisu, of course.

"Alrigh’," Arisu says, looking at Bakugou up and down before retrieving himself back into his apartment.

"The fuck this fucking extra-..." You stop Bakugou from turning and going towards Arisu by holding his arm and pulling him towards you.

"Stop it. Come inside," you demand, pulling him as he watches your hand around his bicep, "before any of my neighbors file a complaint against me thanks to your fucking loud mouth."

Bakugou grunts at your words as he lets you pull him inside. When you close the door and turn to him, you realize how big he looks in your small apartment, where there is barely space between the living room and the kitchen and two doors, one leads to your bedroom and the other to the bathroom. You want to laugh at how uncomfortable he looks.

You take a deep breath, scratching your forehead to regain a bit of patience –which was non-existent whenever Bakugou was around.

"Okay, now, explain to me what the hell is wrong with you."

"Nothing is wrong with me. More like what's wrong with you and this small thing you call apartment… When did you-..."

"Bakugou! I didn't invite you in for you to start insulting my living space!" You say more exasperated by every second he is in there. "Tell me what the hell happened to you! Why did you come here, almost tearing down the door of my place at 6 in the fucking morning, annoying even my neighbors, and then you fucking propose out of nowhere!"

His lips are held in a tight line as he watches you almost yell at him, hands opening and closing anxiously. There is silence for a couple of minutes before he says, "My father died."

You gasp, taking a step back. Wow. That's something you were not expecting at all. You get now why the black suit. And now that you look at him better, his eyes look glassy and reddish –probably thanks to how much he's holding himself back from showing any other emotion that isn't anger. And that's… sad.

Your arms immediately hug yourself, one hand settling over your chest. "I- I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," he turns a bit to the left, facing the kitchen to avoid looking at you. "Fucker was a right pain in the ass."

You choke on the laugh that almost escapes you at his words, and after you clear your throat you murmur, "Sorry." He looks at you a bit amused, the right corner of his mouth lifted a bit at your reaction.

You sigh again after a few seconds of silence, "Bakugou, what does that have to do with you asking me to-...”

"My great-grandparents are-were the funders and CEOs of TCA Technologies Corp.," your eyes open wide at the name of the prestigious company that had been ground-breaking in the creation and use of robots, before being the number one seller of technology materials to support heroes. They were high class in society, civilians and heroes. "Yeah, that's the face every extra makes," he smirks when you stick your tongue out at him.

He then looks at you up and down and immediately looks away, clearing his throat in a clear gesture of shyness. You frown confused.

"Fucking go put some clothes on."

That's when you remember you had no pants, no bra, and an old shirt that barely covered your panties. Fuck. You almost run towards your room to get changed. All of this had to be a dream… or a nightmare.

Your Sunday was entirely ruined. You know that for sure.

After you change to decent, more covered clothing, leggings and a big shirt that almost reached your knees –it is Sunday, dammit, and the hell you are gonna dress up for Bakugou Katsuki– you walk again towards the living room where you left said asshole waiting for you there. He is now sitting on your couch, his suit jacket lying over the back of it. His elbows are resting over his knees, his hands holding his head. You have never encountered a tired Bakugou, yet here he is. Looking beaten and down.

He looks up at you when he hears you approach him; his eyes are more reddish than before, kind of like when you want to cry but don't let yourself do it. That made you feel bad for thinking about him as an asshole.

"What took you so long, short-legs? Whatever you wear, you'll still stink and look ugly on it."

Nope. He is and will always be a stupid asshole.

You roll your eyes grunting as you let yourself fall on the couch, as far away from him as you can on that three-people couch, crossing your legs under you.

"Spit it out, asshole. What's all this about?"

He sighs, "My father inherited it all after my grandfather died. His whole life had been that stupid company, his and my mother's. I don't give a fuck about it, but the old hack insists that I- ow!"

You pinch him on the shoulder this time, knowing very well that if you had punched him he wouldn't have felt anything. But pinching… he did feel that.

"What the fuck was that for?!"

"Don't call your mom like that, idiot!"

"Fucking piss off, you know shit! The old hack is an old hack, she deserves the title."

You shake your head in disagreement but decide to leave that topic there considering how affected he looks by it.

"The old hack said," he simply repeats that to spite you, and you really want to punch him, "that I need to step up and be fucking CEO of that bullshit, or…"

He looks at you, and you gulp, kind of understanding where this is going.

"Or get married." You finish the sentence, crossing your arms over your chest, "But why? Those two options are completely different from one another."

"The sky will fucking fall the day I understand any-fucking-thing that comes out of her mouth. She's nuts!" He protests, arms exaggerating his words as he opens them wide, evidently showing how much stress he has, before laying back on the couch, head resting over the back of it where his jacket is. He sighs long and deeply before talking again, "My great-grandmother had a strong Quirk, but she decided to stay at home instead of being a Hero. Those were other times, ya'know?"

"I know History of Heroes, Bakugou. I'm not stupid."

He looks at you again, this time genuinely surprised, "I, umm, thought you-..."

"Have you ever thought that despite not having a Quirk, I know about heroes?"

He tchs, "No wonder why you and shitty Deku are such shitty nerds."

You roll your eyes for the eleventh time that morning, "Get to the point, shitty asshole."

Bakugou scoffs, clearly holding back a retort to answer back, then he continues, "I'm the first in generations with a strong, hero-level Quirk. Most of my family had decided to live as civilians, building this stupid company from generation to generation."

"Oh, and you are the first actual Hero in the family. You are the first one to choose differently…"

He nods in response, "It almost gave my grandfather a heart attack. Ever since my Quirk woke up, I knew what I wanted," he looks back at you, and for the first time, you admit to yourself that you're curious of knowing what he wants, what goes through his head, so you nod allowing him to continue, "I want to be a Number One Hero. I want to kick villains' asses as much and as hard as I can for as long as my stupid aging bones allow me to."

The intensity in his eyes and conviction in every word he spoke made you feel his passion. And that was… new.

"But to be that, I can't afford to waste time in falling in love and all that bullshit…"

"Then say no to your mom and the company," you offer as a solution. He snorts letting his head fall back against the couch.

"You know shit…" He shakes his head, "There's a requirement in every hero company, it says that a familiar, or a spouse if the hero is married, has to validate your mental sanity alongside a doctor to keep working as a Hero."

"I… didn't know that."

"Of course not, short-legs. You're not a hero, why would you know?"

"So, if I… If we get married-..." he nods in confirmation even before you say the words. But he says them.

"The old hag won't have to validate my status as Hero anymore, and she won't have anything to hold me back from sending her and the company to hell."

You looked serious at him, "Bakugou, you and I don't like each other. You hate me and I hate you. And you want to put your Hero status in my hands by marrying me?" You say in disbelief, almost anxious about the whole meaning of this. You stand up and walk from one side to the other as you keep talking, "Why? Because your inner kid is in rebellious tantrum mode and does not want to take the responsibility to-..."

"Shut the fuck up! You. Know. Shit!" He also stood up, shortening the distance between you two in the small living room.

"Then tell me! Explain it to me! Cause to me you only sound like a spoiled brat who doesn't want his veggies for lunch."

He looks you right in the eye, hands almost trembling in fists beside his body, and then he drops the bomb.

"My mother killed my grandfather."

You recoil a step back, "What?"

He sighs, hands and fingers running through his hair, clearly uncomfortable, "I-... There is no proof, no solid proof about it. I just- I know it was her." Again, the conviction in his eyes made you believe him. "My mother wanted the money, the luxury life being with my dad could bring her. But my dad had a brother, an older brother."

"Had?"

Bakugou simply shakes his head, "The idiot got himself in between a shooting from two villain groups. He was shot only once, and it killed him. A fucking looser…" 

You try, you really tried not to smile but failed miserably. "You are the idiot," you say fighting back the chuckle.

He smiles back, "No, I got shot several times, I even got thrown at and through walls, and I'm very much fucking alive. I'm no weak ass looser as him."

You can't stop laughing, Bakugou definitely is an idiot.

He waits until you're done laughing before continuing, "Even then, my grandfather didn't think my dad was capable of handling the company and all it meant, so he was thinking about giving it to one of his nephews. That's when, I fuckin’ know, my mother took matters into her own hands. I'm an only child. If I say no…"

"The company has to go to another familiar..." Everything washes clear now in your head, “And your mom won't allow that to happen. So she’ll lie and say you aren’t sane enough to keep working as a hero,” Bakugou keeps nodding, confirming everything you’re saying.

“That way, I’m obligated to work at the company.”

Your hand travels from your forehead and brushes your hair back. “She wouldn’t that… She’s your mom, Bakugou...”

“Haven’t you heard a fucking thing I said? She fucking killed my grandfather so the company was legally inherited by my father! Therefore, she could hold all the rights, all the stupid money! My father was a fucking dimwit who believed every-fucking-thing my mother said. She controlled him as she pleased.”

You gasp as another realization hits you, “That’s why you are an asshole to her…”

“She can fool anyone, but not me.” He declares, standing tall and proud. “I have never played her game, and I fuckin’ never will.”

You hug yourself once more, taking some minutes to assimilate all the confessions he just dropped on you. Everything feels like a script of a freaking movie or something. And there are too many questions you want to ask. But there’s only one thing you mostly don’t understand and you need the answer to.

So you look back at him, head tilting up a bit due to the height difference between you, and ask, “Why me?”

Bakugou does not hesitate in his answer. 

“You’re strong, despite not having a Quirk. And smart. You don’t let anyone dictate what you can or cannot do,” he takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours, “You have never backed down from a discussion, with me or anyone else. You don’t let anybody step on you, holding tight to your convictions and beliefs.”

You visibly gulp, feeling a little warmth in your cheeks that makes you want to look elsewhere, but you don't. You hold the connection between your eyes like dear life. And he smiles, the left corner of his mouth raising a bit.

“You have a fuckin’ strong character, you won't even shy down from me,” you suddenly feel the back of his index finger caress the right side of your jaw, where lays an old scar he perfectly recognized.

It was the scar he accidentally left when you were younger, stupider. He had picked a fight with another newbie hero –another asshole in your opinion– who kept talking shit about his other newbie hero friends. Bakugou had snapped when the guy mocked the word “whore” towards you. You have tried to separate them, earning yourself a punch on the right side of your face by this same man that has touched the reminder of that old memory.

“But above all that…” It’s his turn to gulp, eyes going up and down through your face. Is he… Is he looking at your lips? “You are kind. You care about everyone. You always try to solve everything for everyone –that’s fuckin’ annoying actually.”

You open your mouth to swear at him, stupid asshole; but he doesn’t give you time to say anything. “What I’m trying to fuckin’ say is–” he takes a deep breath, “You are… good. A good person. And you… You understand m- us.”

Was he going to say ‘me’? By ‘us’, you know he means heroes.

Your parents had been heroes before they died. Unfortunately, you were born Quirkless, so the dream of following your parents' path was decided the same day you were welcomed into this world. You have already made peace with this idea, it didn’t hurt like it used to when you were young. Despite not having a Quirk, you specialized in Quirk and training analysis, which granted you a job that most Hero Agencies wanted you for. Hence also how now your group of friends involved all heroes.

However, one thing is working with them, working with Bakugou Katsuki, a.k.a. Pro Hero Dynamight, who was the biggest pain in your ass you have ever had since the day you met him. Another completely different is actually marrying the pain in your ass.

You sigh, “I don’t–...”

“What? You want me to fuckin’ beg? ‘Cause I fuckin’ will…” Bakugou takes a step back and literally kneels before you. You protest, grabbing his forearm and pulling him back up, but he doesn’t let you move him even a millimeter. “What do you want? Whatever you want is yours. We can even sign a dam contract if you so want, I don’t fuckin’ care what it is. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“This is not a fucking joke, Bakugou. You are asking me to marry you. What if I have a boyfriend? You didn’t even fucking ask!”

His eyes open wide, surprised. “Do you?”

You roll your eyes, releasing an exasperated sigh. “No! I don’t!”

“Then, what are you bitching about?”

You groan. “I’m bitching about the fact that I don’t know why would you put a whole big deal on me when we hate each other!”

“I trust you.”

It’s a short answer, his expression is even so neutral and sure that leaves you perplexed. Surprised at how easily he said those words.

“We don’t like each other…”

“I don’t need to like you to trust you, idiot.” It feels like he’s mocking you, but one look into his eyes and what he is saying actually feels right. He is completely sure of what he is saying. “I would even fuckin’ trust you with my life.”

He already does. Every day, at work.

Still, you can’t pass the opportunity to piss him off. “Wow. That’s deep, buddy.”

“Fuck you.”

Mission accomplished.

You laugh gently, looking at him still kneeling on the floor of your living room. The sight in itself is a miracle. A sight you won't get to see ever again from this man. But it’s not the image of his kneeling position that makes you take the decision.

It’s his eyes.

They are screaming, desperately begging for you to help him. And, damn it, he is right; you always are at the disposal of everyone when they need your help. Fuck! It is actually very annoying –but you will never admit that out loud, especially not to him.

You close your eyes, head tilting back, and take a long, deep breath.

You are so going to regret this.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

Bakugou Katsuki immediately stands up and practically throws himself at you, his whole hulk of a body surrounding you in what you have never thought would ever happen between you two: a hug.

Are you though?

[dollyfetti]

katsuki loves your lip balm.

he’ll buy you as many different flavors and brands as you’d like, just to see the shimmery glisten it brings upon your lips. he especially loves seeing you when you’re all ready for bed, bonnet/scrunchie in your hair, your face all moistened and soft, and your lips adorably glossy.

he loves grabbing your chin and smushing his lips onto yours, smearing the product everywhere on your chin and his. he pulls back with the dorkiest grin that spreads even wider when you whine about having to reapply and your chin being all sticky.

he loves it so much that he’ll spend hundreds of dollars on it per month just to see it on you.

[bakuhve]

i just. i just think katsuki would be the absolute best boyfriend in the world.

but at the same time… like.. it’s gonna take a fat minute to get to that point. my katsuki and reader are always gonna have the dynamic of she fell first and hard but he fell absolutely harder. like face smashed into the ground, concrete cracked beneath his body, harder.

your story was never mutual love at first sight, no. you fell first. the kind of fall that leaves you breathless and stumbling, but still willing to get up and run straight toward him again.

you admired katsuki in every way imaginable. his strength, his drive, the way he never wavered even when the whole world seemed to be against him. your admiration turned into something deeper, something that made your heart squeeze and stomach flip. and you didn’t bother hiding your crush.

why should you? why would you ever keep your adoration for the man you loved a secret?

so you let it show. you gravitated towards him during class breaks, in the little favors you did for him without him asking, in the shameless way you told him over and over again that you liked him.

but back then, katsuki was an idiot.

a dumbass so hyper-focused on hero training and his own ambitions that he barely spared a thought for anything else. he knew you had a crush on him- how could he not? but at the time, he equated it to nothing more than annoying persistence. some stalkerish, over eager need to be by his side.

and oh, how he wants to throttle his past self for thinking this way.

because somewhere along the line, after countless battles, after seeing you at your highest highs and lowest lows, after realizing that no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t shake you off- he started to not mind your presence.

then he started looking for it.

started craving it.

and like that, he fell.

only by the time he realized it, you weren’t the one constantly chasing anymore.

now it was him hovering near you at all times, subtly making excuses to be closer. he stole glances, catching himself staring at your hands and wondering what it would be like to just hold them.

and when you finally got together, when it turned into something real, katsuki was left fumbling into unfamiliar territory.

because he had no experience being this stupidly and sickeningly in love.

was he doing this right? was he too much? was he not enough? what the hell did a girl like you see in him?

and most of all, were his hands too damn clammy to be holding yours right now?

but then you squeeze his hand. and he squeezes yours back.

and just like that, all his doubts settle. because you’re his person. and he’s yours.

but yeah anyways lovesick reader and even more lovesick katsuki on top

[samulogy]

im begging for you to make a drummer bakugou based on that "i hate attention" video on tiktok of the girl on his lap

⊹ ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ divine agnes ! the coincidence that i also saw the video on my feed just as i was reading this ask. a bit suggestive, though not full-blown smut. fem!reader ♡

this was the part of the show everyone waited for.

it had started as a half-serious joke during rehearsals, but now, it was a signature moment—where the band performed shirtless and invited fans onto the stage. it was chaotic, but the fans loved it—always ate it up. every. single. time. katsuki, ever the showman despite his usual preference for controlled chaos, played along because, hell, why not? it wasn’t like anyone would hinder his ability to play the drums anyway.

tonight, as dunce face—their lead guitarist—went off stage and picked a handful of lucky fans onto the stage, his eyes locked onto you.

you stood out, not because you were screaming or jumping like the others, but because it felt like you were anticipating what is to come. a black, skin-tight dress that clung to your curves, highlighting the physical attributes of your chest, the stage lights making the fabric shimmer in a way that made katsuki’s throat feel dry.

before he could second-guess himself, he stood up, walked towards you—past eijirou and hanta, who were getting to know some of their chosen fans—and met you halfway on the stage.

“c’mere, princess,” he called, his voice rough but somehow carrying over the background music. “you enjoyin’ the show s’far?” bakugou took your hand—warm, steady—and guided you over to where his drums were and sat you carefully on his lap.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear over the music.

you looked down at him, smiling in a way that sent a slow burn through his chest. “yeah. i—yeah,” you whispered, unsure of what to say.

“relax, i ain’t gonna bite you,” he chuckled, letting your arms search for a place to ground yourself without feeling too awkward and uncomfortable. “hold on to me, yeah? wouldn’t want you fallin’ for someone else.”

katsuki barely had a second to brace himself before getting back into the rhythm. his hands moved on instinct, drumsticks striking with practiced precision, his legs pumping the pedals without missing a beat.

which was when he realized the problem.

his legs were moving.

you were sitting on his lap.

and every time his foot hit the bass pedal, every slight motion of his thighs—you moved with it.

you had your hands on his shoulders, gripping them lightly for balance, your pretty, sparkling nails pressing into his skin—he was sure it’ll leave a mark (good). every shift, every flex of his muscles beneath you made your body press just that much closer, and—fuck.

your dress.

that damn dress.

his eyes kept flickering down, catching glimpses of smooth skin, the curve of your chest barely restrained by the neckline, and the way the fabric clung to your waist. it was a distraction in the worst way possible, his brain fighting between focusing on the setlist and the fact that he had a gorgeous girl practically grinding on him in front of thousands of people. that particular friction had his mind reeling from thoughts, his pants suddenly feeling tighter from the straining of his throbbing cock.

you didn’t seem fazed at all, though. you were smiling down at him, completely unaware of the way his jaw had locked, how he had to dig his heels into the stage to stop himself from reacting.

“you look prettier up close,” you say, sultry whispers close to his ear that had katsuki huffing shortly.

this girl, fuck.

he forced himself to keep his cool, to rely on muscle memory to get through the song, but every little movement—it was practically humping at this point—sent another spark of heat racing through him. his fingers tightened around the drumsticks, knuckles white with the effort of keeping himself under control.

the worst part?

you were enjoying it.

not in a teasing, intentional way—but you were clearly having fun. there was nothing forced about the way you laughed when the crowd cheered, nothing fake about the way you met his eyes and grinned like you belonged there, like you knew exactly what kind of effect you had on him.

he almost fucked up a beat. almost.

katsuki never messed up during a performance, even if he’s had a hundred girls on his lap before, doing the same thing you were, but you were making it damn difficult to keep his head in the game. the exception above all to all of this.

and just as suddenly as it started, the song was over.

he helped you off his lap, graceful as ever, and for the first time in his life, katsuki found himself staring at a girl as you thanked him before you walked away—not because he was annoyed, but because he wasn’t ready for you to go.

before you disappeared into the crowd of fans being escorted off the stage, he caught your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin.

“you liked it?” he asked, forcing his voice to sound steady, even though his heart was still pounding for an entirely different reason than adrenaline.

you tilted your head, considering. “i don’t really like too much attention,” you admitted. then, with a playful glint in your eyes, you added, “but… i wouldn’t mind if it came from you. in more ways than one, pretty boy.”

then you were gone, melting back into the sea of fans with your friends.

katsuki exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the lingering heat crawling up his spine. suddenly the cold air of the place gave him chills, as if he hadn’t been shirtless for an hour and a half by now. he was about to turn back to his drum kit when he noticed something.

a small, folded note is sitting on his stool.

his name was scrawled on it, and when he opened it, he found a simple message—and a phone number. maybe you’ve expected this from the very beginning.

his lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but not quite anything else either.

tonight just got more memorable for him.