When Katsuki Tries To Subtly Squeeze In Physical Affection Once You Start Dating, He Gives You Whiplash.

Navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! haikyuu EP!

── .✦ "IWAIZUMI HAJIME VS. WEDDING" — iwaizumi hajime

a/n : sorry for being inactive!! finally found motivation to write for haikyuu content : post timeskip. iwa crashing out. pre wedding. he’s so in love. seijoh 4. fluff. crack.

Iwaizumi Hajime doesn’t spiral.

He doesn’t pace. Doesn’t panic. Doesn’t start talking just to fill space. He’s the one people lean on. The level-headed one during a crisis.

Which is exactly why the Seijoh 4 are now watching him like he’s a science experiment gone wrong. The groom’s waiting room is too quiet. Tense. The kind of quiet that happens before someone snaps.

Oikawa, back from Argentina just for the wedding, sips sparkling water with the smugness of someone who saw this coming. Matsukawa is filming. Hanamaki looks both entertained and slightly afraid.

And our dear Iwaizumi paces. Mutters something to himself. Then—without warning—drops to the floor and starts doing push-ups in his suit.

Everyone stares.

"Everybody stay calm, he’s spiraling,” Matsukawa says.

“He doesn’t spiral,” Hanamaki replies, blinking. “I’ve never seen him spiral. This feels illegal.”

“I once saw Iwa-chan roll his ankle and tell me to breathe,” Oikawa says, horrified. “This is terrifying.”

“I’m not spiraling,” Iwaizumi mutters, chest nearly kissing the floor. “I’m keeping my heart rate in check.”

Push-up. Push-up. Push-up

“I’m grounding myself. This is tactical. I am not emotionally compromised.”

Push-up.

“She’s gonna look like a goddess and I’m gonna forget how to breathe.”

“What was that?” Oikawa asks.

“I said I’m fine, Shittykawa.” Oikawa blinks. “You haven’t called me that since we were 18. Oh god, he’s malfunctioning.”

Iwaizumi keeps going. “She’s gonna smile. At me. In front of everyone. And I’m gonna cry. I know I’m gonna cry. I can already feel it. It’s sitting right here—” he gestures to his throat, “like a threat.”

He stops and lays flat on the floor. The silence is deafening. “I’ve never seen him like this,” Hanamaki whispers.

“He cried when she said yes, didn’t he?” Matsukawa murmurs. “This is stage two.”

“I didn’t cry,” Iwaizumi says flatly. “I teared up. Briefly.”

“You FaceTimed me,” Oikawa adds. “There were tissues involved.”

“I was sick.”

”You were sniffling,” Oikawa corrects.

“It was February.”

Iwaizumi sits up slowly. “She’s gonna be in a dress. With her hair done. And makeup. She’s gonna walk toward me like she means it and I’m gonna stand there looking like I forgot how knees work. And then I’ll cry. And then she’ll cry. And I’ll ruin everything.”

Oikawa kneels and hands him a water bottle like it’s an offering to a storm god. “You’re in love. That’s not ruining anything.”

“I’m so in love,” Iwaizumi whispers, like a confession. “It’s making me physically ill.”

Hanamaki just nods. “That tracks. We’ve been waiting years for your emotional constipation to catch up.”

“Push-ups aren’t fixing it,” Matsukawa adds. “Try burpees.”

“I will throw up on your shoes.”

There was a knock on the door: “Five minutes.”

Iwaizumi stands. Adjusts his suit. Rolls his shoulders like he’s heading into combat. “I’m marrying my girl. My terrifying, gorgeous, brilliant girl.”

He turns to them, solemn.

“If I cry—don’t say anything.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Hanamaki says.

“If I pass out—don’t catch me.”

“You’re gonna cry in, like, thirty seconds,” Matsukawa grins. “But you’re gonna look shredded in the photos.”

“I better.”

2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

TAGLIST (OPEN). / @ayatakanosstuff @angelkiyo @honeycrispappletree @itsmeaudrieee

Fr

puppy love !!

1:16pm

kats 💕: come to supply closet

yn: ugh i want to so bad but kami pissed off aizawa and he’s put us on lockdown ☹️

kats 💕: are u fr

yn: im sorry can u wait like ten minutes for him to calm down pls

kats 💕: fine.

you tap your foot impatiently for the next five minutes while watching aizawas anger slightly fade away, slowly but surely.

taking a deep breath and standing from your seat, you begin to walk towards your irritable teacher. you can feel your friends eyes wide and gaping at you in shock.

“mr aizawa, could i use the restroom?” you ask, faking confidence.

he takes a deep inhale before looking at you like you are the most infuriating thing on his mind right now.

“must you?” he asks annoyed and you shuffle on your feet before nodding.

he sighs again, taking his eyes off you and resuming his attention on his computer screen.

you stand there confused for a full two minutes before he sighs and stares at you once more.

“…go??” he mutters, as if you should’ve already anticipated his answer and gotten out of his hair.

you thank him and rush down the hall, passing the girls washroom, and the class katsuki’s supposed to be in, before finally reaching the supply closet.

you check your surroundings before grinning at the absence of people in the barren hallway before entering the supply closet.

“hi.” you say, backing up against the door to shut it and holding your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress your smile.

your boyfriend looks up from his phone, frown turning into a smile of his own that’s reserved only for your eyes.

“took you long enough.” he says, feigning annoyance.

you giggle and play with your fingers while continuing to lean against the door.

“you know aizawa.” you defend.

he hums, taking slow steps towards you.

“yeah.” he says, looking at your lips.

“i do.” he mumbles, mostly to himself as he grabs you from your spot against the door and presses you against one of the many shelves holding various cleaning products.

you squeal as he does so before you feel his lips press to yours, filled with love and the excitement of a fresh relationship.

you continue giggling as he presses several kisses upon your waiting lips.

getting slightly fed up he moves to your cheek, giving you sloppy kisses on purpose to make you squirm.

“k-kats.” you heave between fits of giggles.

“you deserve it.” he says, licking his lips to make them almost disgustingly wet as he continues to kiss along your face.

“stop it tickles!” you gasp, attempting to push your boyfriend away.

“uh uh.” he mumbles and bites your nose.

“oh!” you squeal.

“you’re so- ugh! gross!!” you whine.

he finally ends his attack and you struggle to stand as you gasp from laughing too hard.

“oh my god, kats.” you pant.

he smiles at you, reaching down and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before questioning you.

“what?” he asks gently. too gently for that post attack mode you’re in.

“you’re so annoying.” you frown, wiping his spit off your cheek.

he laughs softly, caging you in the shelves once more.

he lowers his head to your chest, resting there while you clean yourself off and smooth out your hair.

when you finish you sigh, dragging your fingers through his locks of hair.

he smiles softly.

“i missed you, you know.” he mumbles, not looking you in the eyes.

“yeah?” you ask, grinning.

he huffs, shoving your face away with his hand.

before you can retaliate you feel him place warm kisses up your neck, free of spit. while he makes his way up your face his hands make their way around your waist.

you hum, satisfied with this treatment and wait patiently until he makes it to your lips.

when he does, you smile as he pulls away to look into your eyes. then presses his lips to yours sweetly.

the two of you share soft kisses for another 15 minutes until you have to part ways.

9:37pm

yn: can i sleep over tonight?? 🫶🏻

kats 💕: fuck yes get over here

yn: SPRINTING!!

katsuki heard a soft knock on his door before you come barrelling in, jumping on him while he lays in his bed and he catches you, scooping you up and plopping you on his lap.

“what was the point of even knocking if you didn’t let me get the door?” he asks.

“well i wanted to give you a warning, what if you were watching porn or something?” you smile, shoving your face in his neck and nuzzling.

“i knew you were coming over!” he groans.

“well what if you wanted to schedule in a quick wank before i got here?” you ask, giggling to yourself and pulling back to look at him.

he drags a hand over his face in annoyance.

“you’re so…” he trails off, huffing and removing his hand from his face.

“so…. kissable?” you ask before pecking his lips.

“hmm.” he faux ponders for a moment before grabbing your hips with strong hands and squeezing tightly.

“….yeah.” he decides, kissing you and letting your arms wrap around his neck in agreement.

being on katsuki’s back while he’s doing push-ups

when you received a text from katsuki telling you to come over, you sat up in your bed without hesitation. you texted a quick reply and walked to his dorm, then knocked. he quickly opened it with a small grin, then placed his large, rough hand on the back of your head, and kissed your forehead. you closed the door with your foot and placed your lips against his, then pulled away with warm cheeks.

he walked to the center of his room, only wearing a black tank top and sweatpants, then crossed his arms. you asked, “why did you text me katsuki? you made me think there was an emergency, but there’s not.”

he huffed and averted his gaze, “i need to work out. lay down on my back and tell me about your day or whatever. wrap your arms around my torso if you need to.”

you tilted your head at the sudden command but didn’t think much of it. he probably just needed some extra pressure during training. the truth was, he just wanted more time with you.

so once he lay on the ground and propped his hands up, you lay down with him and kissed his neck, emitting a hum from the blonde. he began to go up and down, lifting you with him when he did push-ups. you began to giggle, loving how he felt a little odd on your body.

“did you do anything fun today, katsuki?” you asked, laying your cheek against his muscular back, arms comfortably against your sides.

he did many push-ups without difficulty, not even breaking a sweat until you began to talk to him. he replied with another question, “didn’t i tell you to tell me about your day?”

you grinned and nodded, “yeah, but i wanna see how long you can last while doing three things. push-ups, carrying me, and replying to my questions. if you can’t do that then it’s fine, it may just be too hard for you.” you teased him at the end, and he felt your lip twitch.

katsuki frowned and mumbled, “damn brat,” before going off about how he beat shoto when they were training together. you knew he saw him as a threat to his climb to be the number-one hero, so you applauded him.

you praised, “good job, katsuki. i’m really proud of you, you know?”

his focus faltered and he staggered with his movements. the tips of his ears turned pink and he mumbled something under his breath, almost too inaudible. you always knew how to catch him off guard, and he loved that about you. the blonde tried to keep the smile from forming on his face but failed, and let out a nervous chuckle.

he tried to flaunt his talent and rolled his eyes, “icy-hot’s real good but i beat him. took a while though, you know?”

you nodded, “is that why i heard screaming and crashing for around an hour?”

he nodded and tried to muffle his groans and pants, wanting to not make any noise besides words. you smiled and decided to tease him more, “you’re doing great, katsuki, just a little more.”

“s-shut up,” he groaned, making you blush at the sounds.

after you giggled once more, he gently slid you off his back. he claimed that was the one and only time he would let you lay on his back during training due to your reaction. of course, that was a total lie. you became part of his daily routine.

sorry if this wasn’t as fluffy or anything i js had this idea idk! i’m trying so hard to make this not too suggestive

hihihi!

idk if ur requests are open but i got an idea :)

bakugou/reader where they are in a secret relationship and the bakusquad sees them cuddling or whatever when they think nobody's around. maybe make them act like they hate each other infront of others hehe.

thanks in advance :D

oh yes yes i’ve already done two secret relationship posts u can find them on my masterlist :)) but i like this idea a lot so new one! lol

“hey kats.” you smile, seeing your boyfriend walk into the common room.

“shhhhhh.” he groans, agitated.

“hey?-” you frown.

“yeah yeah i love you, whatever. have a fucking headache.” he grumbles, crawling over you on the couch to lay his head on your chest, nuzzling into your soft shirt.

you smile, raking your fingers through his hair in attempt to soothe his headache.

“how come?” you say softly.

he stays quiet, unable to pinpoint what exactly caused this nuisance.

“..denki.” he says plainly with a deep frown on his face.

you laugh, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“you can’t just blame denki for all your inconveniences.” you say giggling.

he looks up at you with a pout and you peck his lips.

“yeah i can. he’s stupid.” he replies grumbling.

you squish his face in your hands and he sighs, eyes closing.

“that feels nice.” he mumbles, words distorted from his squashed lips.

“what?” you laugh, moving to release his face.

“hey. i said it feels nice. stay.” he grumbles, eyes closed.

you place your hands back on his face and he sighs, the pressure releasing the tension on his temples.

you place kisses all over his face, his squished cheeks, his pouted lips, his pretty lashes.

“can i just get you an advil? we can nap in my dorm?” you offer with a grin.

his eyes open slowly, annoyed with the harsh lights of the common room.

“are you gonna play with my hair?”

****************************************************

“i knew it!!” mina whisper shouts.

she feels a pinch to her arm.

“you didn’t know anything!” sero whisper shouts back.

“okay fine whatever, i didn’t. but this is INSANE.” mina yelps, eyes wide as saucers.

“i can’t believe he blamed me for his headache!” denki pouts.

kirishima rolls his eyes at his friend.

“why are you so quiet?” mina frowns, jabbing her finger in kirishimas chest.

kirishima freezes, attempting to stay cool.

“i just… wanna respect their privacy.” he defends.

mina grabs hold of sero and denkis shirts, tugging them close to her.

“he KNEW!!” she says, filled with anger.

she jumps up and down while shaking sero and denki furiously.

“dude! are you serious?!” denki asks.

kirishima crosses his arms over his chest.

“well… bakugou might’ve said a little something.” he smiles sheepishly.

“UGH. i hate you so much right now!”

the pair continues to argue as you and katsuki obliviously move around in the kitchen.

“they’re going to hear you, dipshits.” sero states plainly, already bored of this newfound information.

mina pouts, crossing her arms over her chest and kirishima goes silent.

“i want to get a closer look, see how fast they switch up when someone’s close.” denki smiles devilishly.

the three watch him go, wait till he’s out of earshot and then start dying of laughter.

“he is not smooth enough to pull that off.” sero grins.

“he’s going to get his ass kicked.”

****************************************************

katsuki watches boredly while you rustle through the medicine cabinet.

he groans, resting his forehead on the cool tile of the kitchen island.

“i know.. ‘m sorry kats. i can’t find the advil.” you frown, moving denkis flintstone gummy vitamins.

“i don’t need it, just need to sleep. come on.” he sighs, fisting at your shirt.

“hey guys! what’s going on here?” denki cheers as katsuki tears his hand off of you.

“hey denki.” you murmur, continuing to move throughout the shelf.

“do you know where the advil is?” you sigh, turning to denki.

denki frowns, upset at the lack of drama in this room.

“no idea… why do you need it?” he questions.

“bak- i… have a headache..” you murmur slowly, catching your almost mistake.

denkis brows pull together, glancing at bakugou still hunched over with his forehead on the counter.

“what’s wrong with you then?” denki asks with a smirk.

“shut the fuck up before i knock your lights out.” katsuki seethes, remaining in his weakened position.

you giggle as denkis eyes widen.

“wow kami, he means business.” you say grinning.

kaminari’s ears turn bright red from embarrassment, frustration bubbling up in his veins.

“oh shit denki… don’t say it.” mina mutters and kiri and sero understand exactly what she means.

the three of them watch as kami’s hands ball into fists and his brows pull together.

“temper tantrum.” sero sighs.

“yeah?! well i know you two are going at it!” denki screams at bakugou.

“kats-”

katsuki lunges forward, gripping denki by the front of his shirt.

“well shit. come on.” kiri says quickly, hitting sero.

you watch as katsuki’s arms are restrained by kirishima and sero wraps his arms around denkis middle, the two pulling them apart.

“we’re sorry!” kirishima groans from behind your boyfriend.

“it’s fine.” you mutter, knowing katsuki’s only mad because of his headache.

“it’s not fine! get off of me shit stain!” katsuki screams.

kirishima looks to you for reassurance. you nod, and kirishima releases him.

katsuki lunges forward once again and you grab him by the ear.

“ah ah ah.” katsuki halts while groaning in pain.

you sigh, giving straight mouthed looks to your friends.

“upstairs.” you say forcefully to katsuki, pinching his ear hard then releasing.

he groans, giving a look to denki before turning on his heel and stomping up the stairs.

“we’re sorry-”

“-we didn’t mean to-”

you hold your hands up in front of their faces, effectively silencing them.

“night.” you mutter, trudging up the stairs behind your boyfriend.

****************************************************

as soon as you are out of earshot the four of them erupt.

“DID YOU SEE HOW HE LISTENED TO HER?!”

“HES DOWN BADDDD!!”

****************************************************

“fucking denki.” katsuki groans.

“yeah yeah just get in bed you big baby.” you giggle softly and katsuki glares at you.

he climbs in bed, reaching his hand out to pull you in by your shirt.

“im coming relax.” you laugh.

he frowns deeply, folding his arms over his chest.

you smile, climbing into bed beside him.

staring into his eyes, you search for answers in his tired gaze.

“how’s your head?” you whisper, leaning forward and brushing his bangs back to reveal his cute forehead.

he frowns and lets a groan slip from his lips.

“they just had to pick today to find out, huh?” he mumbles, grabbing your hand.

you giggle softly, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“right, cause any other day you’d be soooo understanding?” you smirk up at him.

he scoffs, pushing your face away with his big hand.

“just wanted you all to myself…” he says under his breath, as if he didn’t even want you to hear him.

you feel your heart melt, shifting close to his face.

his breath hitches subtly as you turn your face to press open mouth kisses down his jaw.

he reaches for your thigh, pulling your leg over his hips.

you continue to kiss at his neck and jaw, placing a kiss to his adams’ apple as it bobs in his throat.

“you have me, okay?” you murmur against his skin.

he nods, arms wrapping around you in a bear hug.

“right.” you giggle.

“forgot its past your bedtime.”

𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍

pairing: deaf!katsuki x gn!reader

warning: collage au, swearing, softsuki, pure fluff, all words italicized are meant to be spoken in sign language

notes: this might be my fave thing ive written so far

632 | Bakugou’s never needed words to tell you how he feels. The only problem?You never understand what he’s been saying.

Bakugou signs alot.

At first, you thought it was just muscle memory, like how someone might talk to themselves under their breath. He’d move his hands with sharp, purposeful flicks, his fingers quick and angry, like he was arguing with the air.

But he always signed to you.

You noticed it when he’d glance your way mid-conversation, hands spelling out something with too much intention for it to be coincident. You didn’t understand a word, of course, and he never explained himself. He’d roll his eyes or scoff when you asked. Saying something like figure it out if you’re so interested, but even with his dismissal— he kept doing it.

When he was annoyed with you, his fingers moved fast.

On the rare chance you made him chuckle, he’d sign something slow and subtle, hidden behind his dumb smirk and eye roll.

When he looked at you too long, he’d blink, sign, and look away.

It wasn’t until weeks later, when you finally decided to take a crash course in ASL at your campus library that the words finally started to come together.

“Thanks for saving my seat,” you said softly, placing your bag down beside him. He hums, nodding, red eyes never leaving your own and it’s enough to make your face heat. You’d always thought Bakugou was good looking, but for the longest time, you kept your distance. That is, until he showed up to the lecture one day reading one of your favorite books, and something about that felt like an opening. Since then, sitting next to him became a habit you looked forward to more than you’d admit.

Your other friends liked to joke that you’d worn him down. That you annoyed him into a friendship.

But every time you walked in and found his bag already nudged off the chair beside him, saving the seat just for you, it felt like the smallest kind of miracle.

He never said much about it. Never made a show of saving your space, but he did it every time.

Bakugou shrugged, his hands move fast. You look… tired?

You blinked. “Wait, I— did you say I looked tired?”

He froze. His brows furrow, eyes narrowed. A tiny break in the confidence that was so Bakugou it practically had its own gravitational pull.

“What the fuck," you heard him mumble. It makes you laugh.

He’s quick to sign again. You understood that?

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin. “A little. I’ve been uh—“ You cut yourself off, your own hands coming forward. Learning.

Bakugou scowled, but his ears were tinged red. He signs again, how? you stalking me now?

“No,” you said, laughing. “I took some classes in the library. Besides you're the one who’s been talking at me this whole time. I finally decided to catch up.”

His hands lifted. It is then that the piece start clicking. If you had learned what he was saying than that means... his eyes narrowed.

What else have you seen?

You pause. Beautiful, he had signed once. You’re beautiful.

Another time: I like your laugh. It sounds like wind chimes. The words 'Wind chimes' was a hard one to figure out for sure.

Once: I wish I could kiss you without making things weird.

You shook your head gently. “Beautiful a couple times... but that's all I remember."

Bakugou exhaled sharply. That's all you remembered!? He's going to fucking explode, dear god. He can feel the heat traveling down his neck. His fingers twitched like he wanted to deny it, like he wanted to scream just to redirect the attention.

Instead, he groaned. Looking away before signing something slowly— hands pausing just enough to make sure you’d catch it.

I can help you remember the rest.

You smiled. Yes. I'd love that

calvins or nothing?

[nsfw-ish] ; bakugou katsuki x reader — domestic fluff, slight horniness, bakugou katsuki being a cute little bean (but also a sexy phenomenon), slight humor <3

♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖📸.𖥔 ݁ ˖♡

notes: this is inspired by the bad bunny x calvin klein ad that came out a few weeks ago. i’m ovulating and had this in my drafts. enjoy 😃

Your grumpy Pro Hero boyfriend—the one who hates cameras, hates media circuits, hates anything remotely resembling a brand deal—somehow got talked into doing an ad. That, in itself, is already enough of a shocker. The man rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Instagram. His idea of PR is grunting his way through one-word answers at press conferences.

So, yeah. When Katsuki says he’s doing a shoot, you're caught off guard.

The announcement isn’t even some grand confession—it’s a casual mumble, like he’s commenting on the weather. He says it while washing the dishes, fingers soapy, sleeves of his tee pushed up to his elbows, the evening news humming in the background. You're sitting on the counter, half-listening to the TV, half-watching the muscles in his back flex through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Gonna do a shoot in a couple days,” he mutters like it’s nothing. Like the sky’s blue. Like he’s not about to detonate your entire sense of reality.

You pause mid-sip of your water. “A shoot?” you echo, blinking at him.

He doesn’t even look up. “Yeah.”

You slide off the counter and walk toward him, disbelief coloring your voice. “Wait, seriously? You? Doing a shoot? Like… willingly?”

He finally cuts you a glance, eyes narrowing. “What the fuck would I joke for?”

“I don’t know! Because you hate this stuff?” You raise a brow. “Last week you growled at a guy just for taking a picture of you at the market.”

He scoffs, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. “Agent wouldn’t shut up about it. Said it’s a good deal. Said it’d make my numbers spike.” He grinds his teeth. “S’bullshit.”

You grin, stepping even closer, your hands brushing against the hem of his shirt. “So what is it, huh? Sportswear? A cologne campaign? Let me guess, something with black-and-white aesthetics, all ‘I’m brooding and mysterious and I could kill you but also model for Givenchy.’”

His glare sharpens. “I ain't tellin’ you,” he mutters, and then smears a soapy hand across your face.

You yelp, eyes widening in shock before laughing, pushing him back with a dish towel, and just like that, the kitchen descends into a sudsy, chaotic mess—water splashing, laughter echoing, and your annoyed, grumbly boyfriend cracking the faintest smile as you attack him with bubbles.

You forget about it after that.

He goes to the shoot a few days later, grumbles about how stupid it was, comes home smelling faintly of sweat and photo studio, and promptly takes a nap on the couch with his face buried in your thigh.

End of story—or so you think.

Until the ad airs.

And the entire world explodes.

You’re not even the first person to see it. You wake up to six missed calls from Kaminari, seventeen texts in a group chat with Amanai and Hanari, and three DMs from stylists you’ve only ever worked with once, all saying something along the lines of:

IS THAT BAKUGOU???
Please tell me that’s YOUR man.
why didn’t you warn me???

You groggily pull up the video link with one eye open, barely processing the thumbnail—just muted greys and harsh lighting—and then hit play.

And then the world stops.

The screen fades in, and the first thing you see is concrete—cold and industrial, metal beams and stark shadows. The lighting is sharp and stylized, the kind of aesthetic that screams high-end minimalism, and then—

There he is.

Katsuki.

In nothing but tight black briefs, leaning against a concrete wall, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his thigh. His scars catch the light. His tan skin looks like it's been kissed by some god. His abs—hard and defined, with that perfect cut down his sides—flex slightly as he breathes. There’s sweat glistening faintly on his collarbone.

And his expression?

That look. The one he gives when he’s about to fight someone and knows he’s already won. That heavy-lidded, lazy gaze that screams dominance and confidence. His jaw is tight. His mouth is parted just slightly, teeth catching on the fabric of his own tank top as he lifts it with one hand, revealing the full line of his torso—slow and unbothered, like this means nothing to him.

You gasp. You physically clutch your phone like it might explode in your hands.

Is this a fucking fever dream?

The ad keeps going. Transitions shift—now he’s outside, in some open-air gym setup, hanging from a pull-up bar in white briefs, his body tense and glistening, thighs flexing as he hooks his legs around the metal, inverted and still steady. The camera pans slowly, sinfully, down the line of his waist, his back muscles moving with effortless control.

You are floored.

And then—then—he’s sprawled in a plush lounge chair, still in briefs, arms behind his head, legs spread in that arrogant, casual way that only he could pull off. He’s completely relaxed, like he doesn’t know the entire planet is watching this ad and forgetting how to breathe.

You drop your phone on the bed and bury your face in your hands.

“What the fuck,” you groan into your palms. Your heart is pounding. Your thighs press together on instinct.

Katsuki, your grumpy, camera-hating, blunt-as-hell boyfriend… just dropped the hottest underwear ad of the year. And you had no idea what he was shooting until now.

You scramble to your feet, pacing your bedroom, mouth still open, heart pounding in your chest like war drums.

Your phone still lies face down on the bed, but you’re pacing like the floor might cave in. Your heart is slamming against your ribs, your body thrumming with something between disbelief and desperate, carnal desire. There’s a burn low in your stomach. A buzzing heat behind your eyes.

Because the ad isn’t done. It gets worse—so much worse.

The music shifts, something darker now, heavier—bass rolling like thunder. And then the screen cuts to him again. Katsuki. In jeans this time.

Low-rise. Washed-out. Loose around the thighs but slung criminally low on his hips.

And those goddamn white briefs are peeking out above the waistband like it was staged in a dream. His hand glides lazily over his stomach, fingers tracing the defined V of his hips, brushing right past the thick trail of hair under his navel. He stops there—lingers there—just barely grazing the hem of the briefs before his thumb tucks in, teasing the edge. His gaze flicks to the camera.

And he smirks.

Not his usual cocky grin, no. This one’s lazy. Lopsided. Something slow and dangerous that makes your knees buckle. Like he knows what he’s doing. Like he planned this moment for you and you alone.

You gasp. You clutch your chest. "Oh my God."

And then—as if that wasn’t enough—the music picks up and the scenes start layering: cuts of him against the concrete, muscles flexing under the strain of his pose; transitions to the gym, his thighs clenching, his expression loose with exertion; cuts to that plush chair, where he’s lounging like sin incarnate, and finally, back to the jeans, with his hand still teasing that waistband.

It’s not an ad anymore. It’s a weapon. A visual threat. A public sex dream.

You stand there, completely dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth parted, blinking like you’ve been smacked upside the head with a wet towel.

And the comments?

Oh. The comments.

@takxmi291_: raw. next question.
@abersiw.3: Good lord what a great day to be alive.
@BIGPAPA.EJI: FLASH US ‼️‼️‼️
@numbber1.lemilionnn: giggling at 3am
@angelzkiss: GOOD GOD IM GIDJDJFNNFHDNDNDJDNCN🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦
@hyurhio008: YEP IM GETTING HIM PREGNANT
@Cello_Zumazz: damn now my screen's all sticky :/
@bpxrndeku: I FEEL LIKE A MAN IN THE 1800S SEEING AN ANKLE FOR THE FIRST TIME.
@lennysqqie: don’t be scared. take em off.
@dynazaddy98: i wanna GAGGGG on that huge COCK—
@stareandfanfic: look at em TITS AWOOGAAAA

You can’t even think. You’re vibrating. Your brain is gone. You’re standing there, still in pajamas, while your very private, very grouchy, very hot boyfriend just broke the Internet in his underwear.

You can’t let this slide.

So you bide your time. You wait until he’s home from patrol—freshly showered, hair damp and messy, wearing his black hoodie and sweatpants that clings to him a little too well. He’s sitting at the kitchen table now, chopsticks in one hand, steam rising from the shabu shabu you made. His brow is furrowed as he eats, and he's grumbling about how some new sidekick forgot to file a report properly.

You sit across from him with your phone in hand, not saying anything.

And then, casually, you clear your throat and say in a bright voice:

“Explosively warm, and snug. Dynamight wears the new Iconic Cotton Stretch. Now in stores.”

Katsuki freezes mid-bite.

His chopsticks pause, a slice of beef and mushroom still dangling, and you see it happen—the moment it registers. His shoulders stiffen. His jaw tightens. And then slowly, as if the food can save him, he stuffs it into his mouth.

You try not to laugh. You fail.

“What the hell, Katsuki?” you grin, voice breathless with amusement. “Why didn’t you tell me?! That ad launched three hours ago and I’ve seen your dick print more times than I’ve seen my own reflection today.”

He grunts. Doesn’t look at you.

“Honey, you looked insanely good. Like… I’m not even sure it was legal.” You lean forward over the table, voice dropping slightly. “You were so hot. And that grin?” You tap your phone. “That was cute, baby.”

His ears go bright red. A slow, creeping crimson that crawls up his neck to his cheeks.

He finally glances at you, scowling faintly. “S’just a stupid ad. Ain’t that important.”

“Oh, it’s important to me,” you murmur with a knowing smirk.

He huffs and looks away again, stuffing another bite in his mouth. But his jaw’s twitching. He’s so clearly flustered, you can barely take it. A tiny, pleased smile tugs at his lips even though he’s fighting it with everything he has.

And you realize—this is why he didn’t tell you. Because deep down, Katsuki knew. He knew how hot he looked, how big the reaction would be, how much people would thirst over it.

But more than anything, he knew you would look at him like this—like he hung the goddamn moon. And he wouldn’t know what to do with that.

“Sh’ddup,” he mutters under his breath, cheeks now fully flushed.

You grin like a wolf, biting your lip as you lean over the table, eyes glinting.

“No. I’m not gonna shut up. In fact, I’m gonna print out a poster. Hang it in the hallway. Right across from the bathroom.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growls—but it’s soft. There’s no heat behind it. Just embarrassment and affection and that little smirk he only wears when he’s happy in spite of himself.

And you?

You’re head over heels in love with this absolute menace of a man. Horny and obsessed and ready to make him flustered for the rest of the night.

Later, the apartment is warm, and quiet, the soft hum of the city alive behind the windows—but in here, it’s just you and him.

The scent of the shabu shabu still lingers faintly in the air, and the clinking of dishes is rhythmic, almost soothing. Katsuki stands at the sink, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, forearms slick and glistening. His hands are buried in a sink full of suds, scrubbing out the plates he insisted on washing since you cooked.

You’re perched on the counter next to him, legs swinging slightly, phone in hand, face lit up with mischief and fondness. The grin on your face is damn near criminal. You can’t help it—you’ve been giggling all night. Ever since the ad dropped, you’ve been glued to the internet, reading every unhinged, thirsty, downright feral comment about your boyfriend. And oh, they are so good.

Katsuki grumbles under his breath every time you so much as snort at your screen, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. Not really. Because he secretly loves the sound of your laugh—especially when it’s because of him, even if it makes him wanna throw himself into the damn sink.

You scroll through your phone, eyes twinkling, then grin wider. “Should I read you the comments next?”

He groans. “No.”

But you’re already doing it. “@yoqnoak24 says: i’m wet, ready, and stretched out to g—”

Before you can finish, a wet, soapy hand slaps gently but firmly against your face.

“Katsuki!” you squeal, laughing in full as the bubbles smear across your cheek and jaw, eyes crinkling with delight.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he growls through a grin of his own, already tugging you off the counter with one hand on your waist.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders instinctively as he leans in, pressing a messy, grinning kiss against your lips. It’s hot, breathless, teeth clicking together for a second before he pulls back just enough to murmur against your mouth, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

You’re smiling so wide you can barely kiss him back properly, giggling like a teenager. “Probably fuck me stupid, since you’ve already got half the world begging for it.”

“Jesus fuck,” he groans, burying his face in your neck. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the way his ears are burning where they brush your jaw. But he’s smiling. You can feel that too. It’s hidden, buried in the press of his mouth against your collarbone, but it’s there. That secret softness only you get.

“You’re the worst,” he mumbles.

“No,” you say, tugging gently at his hair as you press a kiss behind his ear. “I’m the best. I’m your number one fan.”

“Damn right you are.”

You laugh again, and he chuckles too—quiet, low, warm in your chest.

This. This is your life with him. This ridiculous, heart-melting mix of domesticity and chaos. You and him in your kitchen, covered in soap and laughter, still buzzing with the aftershocks of an ad he didn’t even want to do. You and him trading kisses like secrets, teasing and tugging, wrapped around each other like you’ve always belonged this way.

God, you love this man. More than anything.

And the best part?

He loves you back just as hard.

“You have crazy eyes,” Oikawa says offhandedly, setting a glass down and leaning hard on a wooden table, long legs crossing over each other elegantly.

“I do not,” Iwaizumi retorts. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Mhm,” Oikawa pushes his head into the other man’s line of vision, dodging as Iwaizumi unfolds his arms to make an attempt at pushing him away, his gaze locked on the other side of the deck all the while. “Nothing’s happening, that’s why the vein in your forehead is about to pop. You’d think he’d notice the big dumb guy staring at him this whole time.”

“I’m not going to dignify that with a response,” says Iwaizumi, casually posing his arm to rest on the table, open palm up.

“Maybe he has noticed and he’s just ignoring it?” Oikawa squints, dropping his (prescription, but don’t you dare tell anyone) sunglasses down his nose for dramatic effect. “A braver man than me, then.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Iwaizumi says, but his fingers twitch, not quite a fist and not far from being one. His eyes are an olive orchard burning. As Oikawa said: crazy.

You are: oblivious, blithe, gorgeous. The tops of your shoulders are sun-warmed and you’re swirling a glass of red in your hand, the contented lilt of your smile familiar to him after many nights watching your favorite wine stain your lips. He sees you sway a little, your eyes popping wide as you realize all too quickly that you might be a little further past tipsy then you’d thought, and the bastard you’re talking to puts his hands on you. One on your shoulder, one on your waist to steady you.

Hajime’s always had a penchant for parkour when he’s drunk, and you and he have been taking sips of each other for days now. He slams a palm down on the hard wood, momentarily airborne as he jumps over the table and cuts through the other people standing around to get to you.

“Hey,” he says, grin looking a little feral as he watches the hands on your waist come off. The guy’s movements are jerky, looking at him like what the hell, man? Iwaizumi has no idea why.

“Hi, Haji,” you say, your lips curling into a warm smile. “This is Naoto. He’s from the same place I am, actually.”

“Cool,” Hajime says, extending a hand to shake like he learned at networking mixers at UCI. Naoto stares at him for a second and then takes it cautiously, wincing as Hajime crushes his fingers in his best arm-wrestling champ grip. “Good to meet you.”

Naoto clearly does not think it is good to meet him. He steps back upon release and makes a rushed goodbye to you, citing a group of friends he suddenly needs to find urgently. You smile and wiggle your fingers at him vaguely, already far more focused on the sun setting over the waves past the terrace than you are on whatever is happening between the two of them. Hajime steps up behind you, sliding a hand over your waist, his palm covering the surface area touched by Naoto. You put a soft hand over his, stroking slowly over his calloused knuckles, and hook your other arm back to tug him forward so he’s pressed against your back, bending so he’s cheek-to-cheek with you, watching the water undulate.

“You havin’ a good time?” His voice is a little rough from the clear liquor he and Oikawa were drinking paired with the effort of keeping his voice quiet, his concern just for you.

“Yes, sir,” you say, taking another sip from your glass. You hold it across your chest and he wraps his fingers around the delicate stem, putting his mouth right over the print yours left. “You?”

“Of course,” he says. “It’s beautiful out here. I think Shittykawa got sunburnt on the beach, though.”

“His fault for being pale,” you wave your left hand dismissively. He wants to pin you like a butterfly, your wrist arched gracefully against the darkening sky. “He has all those fancy skin creams to stop it from flaking, too.”

He feels a little bad for abandoning his best friend, but when he turns his head to check on him, the other man has reunited with Makki and Mattsun, who are all clustered together while taking photos of the two of you. Oikawa’s features specifically are spelling out something very smug and that will be very annoying for Hajime later. Iwaizumi concludes that he will probably survive thirty seconds without direct entertainment from him.

“He gets bad flush, too,” he thinks aloud. “Maybe it’s nothing.”

“See?” He hums and rubs his thumb over your top where he’s holding you with the right hand, soothing circular patterns. He can almost feel you purring. “I can always tell when you’ve started drinking for the night because Kawa gets red and you start running around and climbing things.”

“I don’t,” he protests, but it dies in his throat. You shake in his arms as you laugh.

“You always do. You tried to climb up my balcony once, remember? You said you could beat the elevator up.”

“I would’ve done it if security hadn’t come out,” he grumbles. You take your glass back and put it on the railing. It’s perilous, but Hajime doesn’t say anything. If it spills over your outfit, he’ll follow you back to the room and help you change.

“When I met you, I didn’t expect you to be the crazy type,” you say, turning so your lips brush his skin as you speak. “You seemed so steady compared to Kawa.”

“Only crazy about you,” he says. You sigh happily and melt back into him. He exhales slowly, a controlled breath, and wonders how a bastard like him got so lucky.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ permission ft, katsuki bakugo

summary: when his friends ask him to hang out while he’d rather be with you, katsuki always hits them with the same answer

a knock on bakugo’s door of his dorm room causes a groan to escape his lips, unwrapping his arms from you where you were both previously cuddled up while watching a movie on your laptop.

“who’s that?”, you ask, still laid up in his bed as you watch him get up while marching to his door with pure attitude.

“probably them damn extras again.”, he complains with a grumble, opening his door to find kaminari, kirishima and sero stood there with large smiles on their faces.

“what’s with your goofy faces? and why are you knocking on my door at 10pm?”, he questions, a scowl plastered on his face.

“we were wondering if you wanted to come play this new game with us?”, kirishima asks, holding up a video game you know your boyfriend has been watching to try out for a while now.

he leans against the doorframe, “well, i’m with my girlfriend right now.”

“yeah but you’ve wanted to play this for a while, right? i’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”, kaminari reasons, sero nodding along with him.

letting out the biggest sigh he could, bakugo replies, “yeah whatever, let me ask her.”, shutting his door halfway so the boys couldn’t see bakugo’s little act he was about to pull off.

“you can go if you want, i don’t mind.” you say softly, turning your head away from the movie you were just watching. you really didn’t mind if he wanted to hang out with his friends since he spent majority of his time with you anyway.

he frowns at your response, mouthing a ‘be quiet’ before opening the door once again after a minute or so, seeing their anticipated smiles.

“yeah she said no.”, bakugo shrugs through his lie nonchalantly, causing you to whip your head back around at him while furrowing your brows.

was this man trying to make his friends hate you?

“well, do you really need to be asking your girlfriend for permission, dude? seems kinda toxic..”, kaminari starts, scratching the back of his head with an awkward look on his face.

“are you questioning her?”, bakugo questions, his voice slightly raised as he holds his usual angry face when anyone mentions anything he doesn’t like about you.

he’s always been protective like that. although, you do wonder if that’s the reason why most of the boys seem a little too cautious around you and always refuse to train with you. bakugo always tells you not to worry about it.

“nah, course not, bro. we’ll play another time it’s fine.”, kirishima steps in, holding his hands up while giving a light hearted laugh, trying to cool bakugo’s behaviour.

“yeah, yeah, fine. whatever.”, bakugo rolls his eyes, shooing off his friends before turning back to you, the angered expression he once had completely wiped off.

his sight finally falls back onto you as he walks back over and getting comfortable in his bed again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest as he interlocks his legs with yours.

if anyone saw the position bakugo was in now, they wouldn’t believe their eyes. angry, aggressive bakugo laid up with a girl, holding onto her so gently as he kisses her forehead, watching some bullshit movie you know he has no interest in watching, and all for his sweet little girlfriend who everyone now seems to think holds him hostage so he can’t hang out with his boys.

and all because he simply just wants to spend all his time with his girlfriend.

“you’re such a lover boy.”, you smile at him, knowing how embarrassed he gets when you say things like this.

“shut up.”, he grumbles, partly hiding his face in the covers as he continues watching the movie with you, back where he wanted to be.

he knows you’re right. you have this man absolutely whipped for you and he couldn’t even care less about it.

© cinnamqnx | do not plagiarise or translate any of my work