My Hero Academia Oneshots

|Bad day, huh?| Bartender!Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

I went to see Uncharted and I got inspired.

Obviously, since there's alcohol and bartending involved, both you and Bakugo are 21+.

Fair warning, I've never had alcohol before let alone been to a bar, so my knowledge is very limited and therefore this probably won't be accurate. Deal with it.

Contains: Alcohol, obviously, and what I like to call baku-flirting. You'll see what I mean.

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You unsuccessfully huffed out your frustrations as you sat at down at the bar. Normally, you wouldn't go to a bar on a weeknight, but you had to get your mind off the events of the day. You poked at the bar top, rubbing the smooth, glossy texture that defied the wooden look. You could hear the bartender tending to some girls around the corner of the bar. You glanced up at him, but he was clearly busy, and you weren't really in a rush anyways, so you went back to sulking.

"Who left the corpse at my bar?" You flinched and looked up, practically getting the wind metaphorically beat out of you as you took in the man in front of you. You couldn't see his face before, only his unruly blond hair. But now that you could see his face...

'Man' was the only descriptor that could come to mind in your groggy state. And a man he certainly was.

"Oh, she is alive." He remarked as he brandished the bottle he used to serve the other guests, flourishing it with a single flip before placing it back in the rack. He turned back to you, leaning onto the bar with one arm supporting him. "And it looks to me like she needs a drink. What d'ya want?" He spoke roughly, and his face reflected his tone. His features seemed as though they were permanently haunted by the ghost of a scowl, but you didn't find it unpleasant. He felt real; honest.

"Uhm... a margarita?" You answered nervously, suddenly feeling rather intimidated. It wasn't like you to get shaken by ordering a drink, but with his blood-red eyes piercing into you, you felt extremely vulnerable. He pushed off the counter a bit and skeptically side-eyed you.

"Sour drink for a sour night, aye? Come on, if you're gonna ask for something basic, at least do it with some confidence." You were somewhat taken aback. Was that his way of telling you no? Are bartenders allowed to do that?

"Try again."

Ah. So it was.

"U-uh, okay." Your heartrate picked up as he watched you, as if he was already scrutinizing your next choice. It's just a drink, dammit! Why were you getting so worked up? You stared into his eyes again.

"Cosmopolitan." You sounded breathless. He gave you a sultry grin.

"That's more like it." He praised, satisfied in your choice. He brandished a martini glass, placing it down on the counter before grabbing a shaker. One after another, he reached for the different ingredients he needed, flipping and maneuvering each one around his body expertly as he mixed your drink. Of course, you knew that he was just doing what he did to everyone. Impressing the customers so that they stay was part of the job description. But you let yourself fall for it anyway, completely mesmerized by his tricks.

Before you knew it, he was elegantly pouring your drink into the martini glass before squeezing some lime juice in and finishing with a thin slice of lime on the edge of the glass. He delicately pushed it towards you.

"All yours, Sweet Cheeks. Drink down the sorrow." He said almost mockingly. You gave him a pouty glare, but all he did was laugh lightly. He asked you about opening a tab and you nodded, giving him your card and heading to the register. You grabbed the glass and took a sip. It was sweeter than you expected, but that certainly wasn't a bad thing. In fact, you were quite fond of it. "What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this on a weekend? You get stood up or something?" You scoffed. This bartender was surprisingly 'friendly' with you.

"No." You started defensively. You debated for a moment whether or not you should spill your guts to a stranger just trying to sell you drinks, but when you saw his brow race a bit in curiosity as his sharp eyes continued to probe you, you couldn't help but spill. "I got fired. My manager- well former manager now, I guess- hates me. She's been gunning for my job for ages." You lamented. The scruffy bartender hummed.

"Yeah, that can be annoying."

"Just a bit, yeah." Your tone was laced not-so-subtly with sarcasm. You took a much larger sip of your drink, practically downing the whole thing in one go. His eyes widened slightly. It really must've been a rough night for you. There was silence for a long moment.

"What was I thinking, poor girl just got fired by a bitch-of-a-boss. A Cosmopolitan ain't gonna cut it!" He grabbed another martini glass. "How about a frozen hot chocolate martini? It'll take a bit longer to make, but trust me, it's worth it." You should've refused, not really wanting to spend a lot of money since you had no job anymore... but he had you at 'chocolate.'

"That sounds amazing."

"That's because it is." He said smugly, then turned his back to you and got to work making your next drink. You didn't notice it at first, but as you continued to sip the last few drops of your cocktail, the bar cleared out to leave you and the blond bartender alone. There were a few other employees in the building... but they hardly paid any mind to you two.

"Here." He placed the frozen hot chocolate martini in front of you before plopping a desert spoon into the glass. You eyed it, craving the sweet richness of the chocolate in your wounded state. You quickly grabbed the spoon and started shoveling the sweet drink in your mouth.

"Slow down, Sweet Cheeks. Unless you want to feel like a bunch of tiny knives are stabbing your brain." He warned. You squeezed your eyes shut and held your head.

"Too late...!" You whined. He laughed heartily.

"Press your tongue to the roof of your mouth." He instructed. You followed his orders and held your tongue up firmly. The brain freeze eased away quickly.

"Thanks." You sighed in relief. He hummed in acknowledgment. You two struck further conversation as you sat, deciding to finish the night just by drinking water. You didn't want to drink anymore and risk getting buzzed with walking home alone. You quickly learned that his name was Katsuki Bakugo, that he liked to cook, and lived alone. His personality was quite... explosive, but you didn't mind it one bit. It was refreshing to speak to someone without any pretenses. He was blunt and honest in every statement, you never had to worry that his words had double meanings or passive aggressiveness.

After realizing the time, you begrudgingly decided that it was time to head home. You payed your tab and Bakugo gave you your recipe. You were about to stick it into your wallet, but paused when you saw the numbers scrawled onto the bottom of it. You looked up at Bakugo with a blush and he gave you a smug expression.

"Come again, Sweet Cheeks." He husked. You muttered out something in acknowledgment, embarrassment restricting you from speaking up. He grinned as you left the bar, having a feeling he was going to be hearing from you soon.

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Pretty short and sweet, to the point and all that.

~Nylo~