Y/N has been listening to Bakugou Katsuki for years—late nights, long drives, headphones turned up just a little too loud like his voice belongs there. His music is raw, controlled, intimate in a way that feels almost personal. So when she finally sees him live, packed into a dark venue glowing with red lights and slow bass, she expects to feel small in the crowd. She doesn’t expect him to see her. Halfway through the set, Bakugou’s gaze locks onto hers like the rest of the room disappears. He