#There's OOC and then there's different character all together | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

s4kura-tr3 · 14 days ago

Note

i loved your hurt/comfort insecure nanami fic! could you do some drabbles for the other jjk guys (reader comforting them about an insecurity)? i love them all so your choice which ones

Perfect

A/n aww ty so much! I really love writing stuff for jjk it makes my day

Since I have already did Nanami he won’t be added if you haven’t read it got to my materialist and there you should find it!

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Yuji, Megumi, Sukuna

Tw: a hurt/comfort, insecurity, a little suggestive in Tojis part. Sukuna being a lil ooc, A long one folks..

Satoru Gojo

Satoru wasn’t usually the type to doubt himself. In fact, self-doubt seemed like something that didn’t exist in his vocabulary. Yet, recently, the words of others had been getting to him more than he cared to admit.

“You’re so loud all the time, Gojo.”

“Does everything have to be a joke with you?”

“You’re like a kid in a man’s body.”

It had started as harmless comments, things he shrugged off with his usual smirk and a witty retort. But after hearing them again and again, from friends, colleagues, even strangers—it stuck. Maybe he was too childish. Maybe his carefree nature wasn’t as endearing as he thought.

For the past few days, he had been… different. You noticed it almost immediately. The usual playful banter, the teasing remarks, and the exaggerated antics? Gone. Instead, Satoru had been unusually reserved, his words measured, his energy dimmed.

He wasn’t being himself, and it worried you.

One evening, the two of you sat on the couch together. Usually, Satoru would have sprawled himself out, dramatically flinging an arm around you while rambling on about something ridiculous. But tonight, he sat upright, hands clasped together, eyes glued to the TV without really watching.

“Alright,” you said, turning to face him fully. “What’s going on?”

He blinked, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been acting… weird.” You gestured at him. “Quiet, serious, like you’re trying to audition for a role in some boring corporate drama.”

That got a small smile out of him, but it faded quickly. He sighed, leaning back against the couch.

“Do you ever think I’m… too much?” he asked softly.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What? No. Where is this coming from?”

“It’s just…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “People are always saying how I’m loud or immature. I thought… maybe I should try being less, I don’t know, annoying.”

Your heart sank at the vulnerability in his tone. This was so unlike him, the usually confident and larger-than-life Satoru Gojo.

“Satoru,” you said firmly, taking his hand in yours. “You’re not annoying. You’re you. And that’s what I love about you.”

He looked at you, those stunning eyes of his searching your face for any hint of insincerity.

“You’re loud because you want to fill the room with laughter. You’re childish because you remind people not to take life so seriously. And yeah, maybe you’re a bit over-the-top sometimes, but that’s what makes you you. You light up every space you walk into. Why would you want to dim that?”

His lips parted, but no words came out at first. Then, a soft chuckle escaped him.

“Man,” he said, his voice lighter than it had been in days, “how’d I get so lucky to have someone like you?”

You grinned, leaning closer to him. “You’re lucky because I happen to think noisy, dramatic boyfriends are the best.”

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar, filling the room like sunlight after a storm. The playful glint returned to his eyes as he leaned down to nuzzle your cheek.

“Okay, but just for the record,” he teased, “you’re also pretty loud sometimes, you know.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” you shot back.

He smirked, pulling you into his arms. “You’re right. I really do.”

And just like that, Satoru Gojo was himself again—bright, lively, and utterly unapologetic.

Geto Suguru

Suguru Geto had always been confident. He carried himself with a quiet grace, his long, jet-black hair tied neatly behind him, flowing like a curtain of silk. To you, it was one of his most striking features—something that made him uniquely him.

But lately, he had been feeling… off.

The comments were small, casual, but persistent enough to stick.

“Why do you keep your hair so long? Isn’t that a girl thing?”

“Don’t you think you’d look more manly if you cut it?”

“Guys with long hair just look weird.”

He brushed them off at first, but the more he heard, the more they lingered. The words gnawed at his confidence until he started questioning himself. Maybe they were right. Maybe it was time for a change.

Late one evening, you noticed he wasn’t in bed when you reached out for him. The soft hum of the bathroom light spilled under the door, and curiosity tugged at you. Gently, you knocked before opening the door, only to freeze at the sight before you.

Suguru stood in front of the mirror, scissors in hand, his dark eyes shadowed with uncertainty. His long hair, normally tied back, hung loose around his shoulders, cascading like ink down his back.

“Suguru?” you asked softly, stepping into the room.

He flinched, lowering the scissors but not letting them go. “You should go back to bed,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

“Not until you tell me what you’re doing.” You walked closer, your voice calm but firm.

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I was thinking of cutting it,” he admitted, his tone low.

You tilted your head, confused. “Why?”

He hesitated, then finally met your eyes. “People keep saying it’s feminine, that it doesn’t suit me. Maybe they’re right.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache. This wasn’t like Suguru, the man who usually carried himself with unwavering confidence.

You reached out, gently taking the scissors from his hand and setting them on the counter. Then, you turned him to face you fully, your hands resting on his shoulders.

“Suguru,” you said softly, “do you want to cut your hair because you want to, or because of what other people are saying?”

He hesitated again, looking away. “I just… don’t want people to think I’m weird.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re not weird. You’re you. And your long hair? It’s one of the things I love most about you. It’s strong, it’s beautiful, and it’s you. Don’t let anyone make you feel like you have to change that.”

He looked back at you, his expression softening. “You really think that?”

“I know that,” you said firmly. You reached up, running your fingers through his hair, marveling at how soft and smooth it was. “This hair of yours? It’s perfect. And even if you decided to cut it, I’d still love you. But don’t let anyone else decide who you should be. You’re already perfect just the way you are.”

Suguru exhaled, the tension in his shoulders melting away. A small, genuine smile crept onto his face, and he leaned into your touch.

“You always know what to say,” he murmured, his voice lighter now.

“That’s my job,” you teased, grinning up at him.

He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. “Thank you,” he whispered into your hair.

“Anytime,” you replied, your voice muffled against his chest.

That night, Suguru went to bed with his long hair intact, feeling more like himself than he had in days. And as he lay beside you, your words echoing in his mind, he realized that the only opinion that truly mattered was yours—and his own.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji wasn’t one to dwell on things. Life had shaped him into a man who took things as they came, without much fuss. But lately, as he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t ignore the signs of time creeping up on him.

The faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

The silver strands starting to thread through his black hair.

The way his back ached after sparring, when it never used to before.

The chubby softness that replaced the sharp definition of his youth.

He hated to admit it, but it all gnawed at him. The years had taken their toll, and it made him wonder—did you notice? Did you still see him the same way?

For the past week, Toji had been… off. He wasn’t teasing you as much, his trademark smirks less frequent. He avoided his reflection and spent extra time at the gym, only to come home frustrated when his body refused to cooperate the way it used to. You couldn’t help but notice the way he lingered in front of the mirror longer than usual, his brows furrowed in thought.

One night, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched. He was staring at his hands, his calloused fingers flexing absently, lost in thought.

“Toji,” you called softly, sitting beside him.

He glanced at you but quickly looked away, as if embarrassed. “You should get some sleep,” he muttered.

“Not until you tell me what’s been bothering you.”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening. Finally, he sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “It’s nothing. Just… getting old, I guess.”

“Old?” you repeated, blinking in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

He gestured vaguely at himself. “Look at me. Wrinkles, gray hair, a bad back… I’m not the man I used to be.” His voice was low, almost bitter. “It’s like every time I look in the mirror, I see someone else. Someone… weaker.”

Your chest tightened at the vulnerability in his words. Toji, the man who always seemed so sure of himself, was doubting his worth because of something as natural as aging.

“Toji,” you said gently, reaching for his hand. “Do you know what I see when I look at you?”

He glanced at you, his green eyes shadowed with doubt. “What?”

“I see the strongest, most handsome man I’ve ever met,” you said firmly. “I see someone who’s lived through more than most people could imagine and came out the other side. Every wrinkle, every scar, every gray hair? They’re proof of that. They tell the story of a man who’s survived, who’s grown, who’s loved.”

He stared at you, his expression softening as your words sank in.

“You’re not defined by how you look, Toji,” you continued, your voice steady but full of emotion. “You’re defined by the way you protect the people you care about, the way you love me, the way you never give up no matter how hard things get. That’s the man I see. That’s the man I fell in love with.”

Toji’s lips parted slightly, but he didn’t speak right away. Instead, he reached up, brushing his thumb gently along your cheek.

“You really think that?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

“I don’t think it,” you said, leaning into his touch. “I know it.”

A slow, genuine smile broke across his face—the kind of smile that made your heart flutter no matter how many times you’d seen it.

“You’re too good to me,” he murmured, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you.

“Not true,” you teased, nuzzling against his chest. “You deserve every bit of it, old man.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Watch it, or I’ll remind you how ‘old’ I am in ways you won’t forget.”

You laughed, the sound warm and full of love, and for the first time in days, Toji felt like himself again. Sure, he wasn’t as young as he used to be, but with you by his side, he realized he didn’t need to be. Because to you, he was—and always would be—perfect.

Sukuna ryomen

Sukuna was not a man who doubted himself—ever. He was the King of Curses, feared and revered, and he didn’t care what anyone thought of him. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

But the comment from one of his servants had hit a nerve he hadn’t expected.

“It’s only a matter of time before they leave you. Who’d want to stay with someone so… volatile?”

Sukuna had brushed the remark off at the time, beheading the servant without hesitation. Yet, the words lingered, festering in his mind like a curse.

The days that followed were… off. Sukuna wasn’t himself. The sharp edges of his personality were dulled. He no longer snapped at minor annoyances or barked orders with his usual commanding tone. Instead, he was quiet, withdrawn, almost measured.

And it worried you. Sukuna, the man who always seemed larger than life, who never hesitated to speak his mind or express his emotions, was holding back.

You found him one evening in his chambers, sitting on the edge of his throne, his usual confident posture replaced by something almost… unsure. His clawed fingers tapped against the armrest, his gaze distant.

“Sukuna?” you called gently, stepping closer.

He stiffened, glancing at you. “What is it?” he asked, his tone gruff but lacking its usual bite.

“You tell me,” you said, crossing your arms as you stood in front of him. “You’ve been acting strange. What’s going on?”

He clicked his tongue, looking away. “It’s nothing. Drop it.”

“No,” you said firmly, surprising him with your persistence. “You don’t get to brush me off like that. Not when something’s clearly bothering you.”

For a moment, he said nothing, his jaw tightening. Then, with a frustrated sigh, he finally spoke.

“One of the servants said something,” he admitted, his voice low. “About you. About me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What did they say?”

“They said you’d leave,” he said bluntly, his crimson eyes meeting yours for the first time. “Because of my… temper.”

The words were almost hard for him to say, and it hit you just how deeply they had affected him.

You took a step closer, your expression softening. “Sukuna…”

He scoffed, looking away again. “It’s not like I care what some pathetic servant thinks. But… it made me wonder.” He paused, his claws flexing against the armrest. “If they’re right. If I’ll drive you away one day, and my love is bigger then my pride..”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability he was showing, a side of him he rarely let anyone see. You knelt in front of him, resting your hands gently on his knees, forcing him to look at you.

“Listen to me,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “You’re not perfect, Sukuna. No one is. But I didn’t fall in love with you because I thought you were. I fell in love with you. The good, the bad, the angry, the terrifying—all of it.”

His eyes searched yours, as if trying to find any hint of a lie.

“Yes, you have a temper,” you continued, “but you’re also loyal, protective, and so much more than the anger you feel. And if you ever do lose control, I know you’ll never hurt me. You’ve had every opportunity to, and you never have. That’s what matters.”

He was silent for a long moment, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. Finally, he reached out, his clawed hand cupping your cheek with surprising gentleness.

“You’re too good for me,” he murmured, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“No, I’m exactly what you need,” you said with a small smile, leaning into his touch. “And I’m not going anywhere, Sukuna. Not now, not ever.”

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, the closest thing to a smile you’d ever see from him. “You’re either brave or foolish to stay with someone like me.”

“Maybe a little of both,” you teased, rising to your feet and leaning in to kiss him softly.

When you pulled away, his crimson eyes held a warmth that wasn’t there before. “Don’t let them get in your head again,” you said. “I love you, Sukuna. All of you.”

For the first time in days, he felt the weight in his chest lift. He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as if to keep you anchored to him.

And just like that, Sukuna felt like himself again—not because his anger was gone, but because you had reminded him that he was more than just the storm inside him.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi wasn’t one to get rattled easily. He wasn’t the loudest in the room or the most expressive, but his quiet presence was steady and dependable. You loved that about him.

But after meeting one of your old friends over lunch, a lingering doubt began to fester in his mind.

The conversation had been light and casual until your friend brought up your dating history.

“You’ve always had a type,” your friend teased, grinning. “Super affectionate, touchy guys—remember that one boyfriend who used to write you love notes every day?”

Megumi had sat there, quietly sipping his tea, but the words stayed with him long after the lunch ended. He wasn’t affectionate—not in the way your friend had described. His love wasn’t shown through constant words of affirmation or grand romantic gestures.

But was that what you wanted? Was that what you needed?

The days following the lunch were strange. Megumi was… different.

You’d been dating long enough to know his rhythms, the small, subtle ways he showed his love. The way he’d brush his hand against yours when walking side by side, or how he’d make sure you were always on the inside of the sidewalk. He was never loud about his affection, but it was there, constant and unwavering.

But now, he was acting out of character.

He was holding your hand more often, lingering in hugs longer than usual, and—most surprisingly—he kissed you on the forehead in public. It wasn’t bad, but it was so unlike him that you couldn’t ignore it.

One evening, as you sat on the couch together, you decided to bring it up.

“Okay,” you said, turning to face him. “What’s going on with you?”

Megumi blinked, his expression a mix of surprise and guilt. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been… different,” you said, trying to choose your words carefully. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but you’ve been more… affectionate than usual. It’s not like you.”

He stiffened, looking down at his hands. For a moment, you thought he might deny it, but then he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

“I overheard what your friend said,” he admitted quietly. “About how your type used to be affectionate guys.”

You frowned, confused. “So?”

“So,” he said, his voice quieter, “I figured I should try to be more like that. More like… what you’re used to. What you deserve.”

His words made your chest tighten. The thought of Megumi, your stoic, thoughtful boyfriend, feeling insecure about something so fundamental to who he was broke your heart.

“Megumi,” you said softly, reaching for his hand. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He looked up at you, his green eyes clouded with doubt. “But what if it’s not enough? What if I’m not enough?”

You squeezed his hand tightly, your voice firm. “You are enough. More than enough.”

He stayed quiet, so you scooted closer, cupping his cheek gently and forcing him to look at you.

“You don’t have to be anyone else for me,” you said. “I don’t need over-the-top gestures or constant affection to know you love me. I see it in the way you make me tea when I’m stressed, or how you check on me after a long day without saying a word. You show your love in a million small ways that mean more to me than any grand gesture ever could.”

His expression softened, a flicker of relief passing through his eyes.

“I love you, Megumi,” you continued. “Not some version of you that you think I want. Just you.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, his lips curved into a small, genuine smile.

“I guess I overthought it,” he murmured, his tone lighter now.

“A little bit,” you teased, grinning.

He sighed, leaning back against the couch and pulling you into his side. “I just… didn’t want to let you down.”

“You could never let me down,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. “And for the record, I like your type way better than anyone else’s.”

He let out a quiet laugh, the sound warming your heart. “Thanks,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

And just like that, the tension between you melted away. Megumi realized he didn’t need to change for you—he just needed to keep being the person you’d fallen in love with.

Yuji itadori

Yuji Itadori had always been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. When he cared about someone, he showed it—whether that meant pulling them into a random hug, texting to make sure they got home safe, or just being around as much as he could.

But lately, he’d started wondering if maybe… it was too much.

It happened after a passing comment from one of his friends.

“Man, Yuji, you’re always sticking to them like glue. Don’t you think they’d want some space?”

The words weren’t meant to hurt, but they stuck with him. Did you ever feel suffocated by how much he wanted to be around you? Did you secretly wish he’d dial it back a little?

That thought alone made him pull back.

You noticed it almost immediately.

Yuji, your usually cheerful and affectionate boyfriend, had started acting… distant. The hugs were shorter, the playful touches less frequent, and he didn’t lean into you on the couch like he usually did.

At first, you thought maybe he was tired or stressed, but as the days passed, it became clear something was bothering him.

One night, after dinner, you decided to address it.

“Yuji,” you said gently, setting your plate down and turning to face him. “Is something wrong?”

His head shot up, his wide eyes betraying his guilt. “Huh? What? No, nothing’s wrong!”

“Don’t lie to me,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “You’ve been acting different lately. Did I do something to upset you?”

“No!” he said quickly, his hands waving in front of him. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he looked away. “I’ve been… trying to give you more space. I didn’t want to be too clingy, you know? I don’t want you to feel like I’m smothering you.”

Your heart sank at the insecurity in his voice. Yuji, who had always been so confident in how much he cared, was now second-guessing himself because he thought it was too much.

“Yuji,” you said softly, scooting closer to him. “Why would you think you’re smothering me?”

He shrugged, his eyes still avoiding yours. “Someone said I might be, and I started wondering… maybe they’re right. Maybe you’d want me to back off a little.”

“Hey,” you said, reaching out to take his hand. He looked at you then, his brown eyes filled with uncertainty.

“Listen to me,” you said, your tone firm but warm. “I love how affectionate you are. The way you always check on me, the way you hold me, the way you make me feel loved—none of it ever feels like too much. If anything, it makes me feel lucky.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice soft and hesitant, like he couldn’t quite believe it.

“Really,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I’d rather have you be your clingy, caring self than have you pull back and act like someone you’re not. You’re perfect the way you are, Yuji.”

He stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before a small smile broke across his face.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I was overthinking it.”

“You definitely were,” you teased, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

He laughed, the sound light and full of relief, and pulled you into a tight hug—the kind of hug that only Yuji could give, warm and all-encompassing.

“I missed this,” you said, nuzzling into his chest.

“I missed it too,” he admitted, resting his chin on top of your head. “I promise I won’t hold back anymore.”

“Good,” you said, grinning against his shirt. “Because clingy Yuji is my favorite version of you.”

His laughter rumbled in his chest as he held you a little tighter, and for the first time in days, Yuji felt like himself again.

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sofiascripts · 5 months ago

Text

love in recovery!: the unmanliest of pairs ✧˖° ༯

༉‧₊˚. part two to love in recovery ✧˚ · . bakugou cant stop thinking about you, he reflects on your moments together during the last few weeks and decides hes gotta see you! one problem though, schools are out of session for winter break and he has no idea where to find you. thankfully theres midoriya!

✎ wc: 7946

⤑ tw: not proofread, cursing, also i ended up taking the love at first site route with this so it might be ooc bakugou… </3 or maybe its very in character bc ur just that awesome he couldnt help himself really (it gets pretty ooc at the end, i was struggling but i NEEDED it to end that way so his usual demeanor had to disappear for a sec.)

bakugou was in what he believed was a state of despair. his mind, usually consumed with concerns about hero work and his so-called “publicity problems,” had recently become fixated on something entirely different: you.

it all began when bakugou was enlisted to help out during finals week at his old high school. the hero course students were gearing up for a practical exam against pro heroes. he remembered his own practical exams, which were conducted by his old teachers. this time, however, the school decided to mix things up by bringing in younger, fresher heroes. the idea was to inspire the students and give them a chance to work with their idols, pros they don't get to see on a daily basis. additionally, it provided a great opportunity to boost the young pros' hero rankings–

and it was a nice tax break for the agencies involved.

“itll be nice to roam those familiar halls, and visit our old teachers and our classrooms, where our forgotten youth still lingers.” tokoyami remarked, his voice heavy with a wistful undertone. they all exchange uneasy glances before kirishima placed a comforting hand on tokoyamis shoulder and cleared his throat.

“yeah something like that man– heard midoriya talking about a few new heroes joining in,” kirishima added shifting the focus.

“yeah! heard recovery girl finally retired. the new one’s apparently a cutie,” kaminari said leaning back into his seat with a wide grin.

“she is! izukus invited her a couple times when we met up with our old group,” uraraka said, her face lighting up with enthusiasm. “she’s got this really warm, friendly vibe. every time ive worked with her, she’s been so caring and attentive. it’s clear she really loves what she does”

“yep! she’s healed me once! she really knows her stuff–her quirk is impressive, shes also got this reassuring presence that makes you feel better just being around her,” tsuyu added with a smile.

“who cares about that kind of crap?” bakugou grumbled, rolling his eyes. “didnt meet up to talk about some new nurse. what i want to know is what kind of target practice we’re dealing with for the next two weeks."

the group let out a unified sigh as the conversation shifted back to their work. they shared notes from the recent sports festivals and began detailing the students they’d be testing, outlining the quirks and abilities to expect. each pro hero reviewed the information attentively, mentally preparing for the demanding two weeks ahead.

∘₊ ────── ₊ ∘ ♡︎ ∘ ₊────── ₊∘

on the first day of finals, the six pros entered the building, the familiar halls of u.a. stirring memories of their own time as students. the air was thick with anticipation, a mixture of nerves and nostalgia that tugged at their senses. aizawa met them at the entrance, his usual tired expression softened slightly as he acknowledged his former students with a curt nod.

“you’re cutting it close,”aizawa murmured, gesturing for them to follow him. “the students are already in the testing site, so we need to head there immediately”

“apologies, mr. aizawa," tokoyami added, his tone somber. "i feared glimpsing the shadows of our past selves, the echoes we once cast.” his words left the group staring at him awkwardly.

“he missed the bus,” kirishima clarified with a shake of his head. aizawa nodded, already familiar with tokoyamis, interesting demeanor. there was no time for pleasantries or catching up with their old teachers, as they were already running a bit late. the group moved swiftly through the corridors, their footsteps echoing in the quiet of the school.

as they rounded a corner, they passed by the infirmary. the door was slightly ajar, and midoriya was leaning casually against the doorframe, his posture relaxed. he was engaged in conversation with someone inside, his voice carrying a tone of lighthearted teasing that caught their attention.

“yeah, well, let’s hope we don’t run into each other too much today. if the students stay injury-free, you might actually get a chance to relax!” midoriya’s smile was bright, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he spoke.

bakugou barely registered midoriya’s words, his attention immediately caught by the soft, warm laugh that followed.

“god, i wish,” you replied with a playful sigh, amusement lacing your voice. “but if these kids are anything like aizawa described you, i’ll probably end up needing help myself.”

as the group walked by, bakugou’s eyes were already peering in, there you were standing in the infirmary, leaning against a counter with a white coat draped over your frame. the crisp, clean fabric paired nicely with the light color of your sundress which fell loosely around you. your arms were crossed casually, and the cheeky grin on your face sent an unexplainable jolt through him.

for a brief moment, bakugou’s mind scrambled for an explanation—had one of these brats used their quirk on him? his palms grew damp, a slight prickling sensation tingling beneath his skin, but he quickly dismissed it, convincing himself it was just the heat of the building, the stress of the upcoming practicals. but deep down, he knew that wasn’t it.

your eyes briefly met his as they walked past, and the world seemed to snap back into focus. he scowled, turning his gaze back to the path ahead, but the image of you lingered in his mind, seared into his thoughts like a stubborn ember refusing to die out.

“damn brats,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else, as they continued on their way to the testing site. but his usual biting tone lacked its usual conviction, the warmth of your laugh still echoing in his ears, a sound that somehow felt both familiar and entirely new.

∘₊ ────── ₊ ∘ ♡︎ ∘ ₊────── ₊∘

at the end of the day, bakugou found himself walking down a very familiar hallway, telling himself it was only because this was the way he’d come in. why wouldn’t he leave the same way? his idiot friends were probably lost, trying to find their way out of the school from the testing site, so it only made sense to take this route.

right?

as he continued down towards the front entrance of the school, he just so happened to pass the infirmary.

he noticed two students exiting the room. one of them had a faint blush on his cheeks—probably a reaction to your quirk. bakugou’s mind flashed back to his first time being healed by recovery girl. even though she was an old lady, the awkwardness of the whole process still made him flush with embarrassment. he couldn't imagine how much worse it wouldve been if the healer had been someone like you someone younger.

just then, he remembered the scratch—no, more like a faint slash—on the right side of his forehead.

might as well get checked out while he was here, he reasoned. hed be cursing himself if that damn wound messed with his performance during his shift later. plus, if he was going to be dealing with more students tomorrow, he needed to be at his best.

with that excuse firmly in mind, bakugou took a deep breath and headed towards the infirmary, trying to ignore the way his pulse quickened, though he figured it was just the tightness of the quirk nullifying bands around his wrists. it couldnt have anything to do with you.

he stepped in quietly, noticing how you were engrossed in paperwork, likely documenting all the students you’d treated that day. the room was filled with the soft rustling of papers, and the sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air. bakugou stood at the doorframe for a moment, feeling like an idiot the longer he stood there. despite his intense glare, you seemed completely oblivious to his presence.

with an irritated huff, bakugou strode over to one of the infirmary beds and dropped himself onto it, the springs creaking under his weight. the sudden noise finally jolted you out of your focus. your eyes snapped up, widening in surprise, and bakugou smirked to himself when he saw your hand tighten around your pen, like you were ready to use it as a weapon against whoever dared to intrude.

“got hit,” he stated flatly, pointing at the cut on his forehead.

you raised an eyebrow, “oh? pro hero dynamite got bested by a couple of kids?” you teased, your tone light but your eyes filled with a playful glint.

from you, his usual scowl deepening. “second, they made me go easy on those brats. ‘course they landed a hit. not like they could keep up with me.” he said, mimicking the instructors’ voices with exaggerated annoyance. “‘told me i couldn’t just fail them all, it would ruin their self-esteem.”

he grumbled, still irked by the memory. he couldn’t shake the irritation gnawing at him. he was totally against going easy on them; he knew firsthand that failure was crucial for getting stronger. it wasn’t about being a jerk—it was about giving them the chance to face their weaknesses and improve. he was pissed off that they were missing out on that important lesson. but he also knew that if he defied the rules, it would only make things worse for everyone. so, as much as it grated on him, he followed the damn rules.

as he watched you move closer to him, he noticed you were trying to hold back a smile, he also saw the glint of amusement in your eyes, which made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t used to. while you inspected his forehead, he felt an odd vulnerability.

he felt your gaze scan his entire body, a mix of frustration and discomfort bubbling beneath the surface as your closeness stirred unsettling feelings. a strong heat rose at the back of his neck, and he tried to distract himself by focusing on the wall behind you. when your eyes finally landed on his wrists, you picked up one of his hands and examined it with even greater intensity. your shocked expression was unmistakable, and it was clear you couldn’t hide it.

“they slapped these on too,” he grumbled, gesturing to the heavy weights strapped to his ankles. he couldn't stop himself from trying to show off a little bit more, “said it was to ‘even the playing field.’ whatever that means.”

you hummed thoughtfully, gently inspecting the quirk-suppressing bands. “they really didn’t want you going all out, huh?” you murmured, your tone both curious and sympathetic.

he huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “if i hadn’t been wearing all this crap, they wouldn’t have landed a damn finger on me.”

he pointed to the small cut on his forehead again, a slight tilt of his head trying to hint that he was expecting something. he remembered the conversation with his friends when they were going over the students quirks, someone had mentioned that you were like recovery girl or something, using a quirk that required a kiss to heal. he didn’t get why you had to be so soft about it, but he also didn’t want to look like a complete idiot and ask for it directly.

“what, you think i’m here for a band-aid? just get it over with already.”

you stared at him with an odd look on your face. after a moment of silence, you muttered a quiet, “right,” before your lips brushed lightly against the cut on his wrist. the warmth of your touch was unexpectedly soothing, sending a strange flutter through his chest that he quickly shoved aside.

“all set!” you said softly, moving over to your desk to busy yourself with paperwork. he glanced at the mirror, checking the spot where the cut had been. satisfied, he started to leave but paused when he heard you chuckle softly.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, irritation mingling with curiosity.

“oh, nothing,” you replied, “just picturing you going easy on a bunch of kids. it’s hard to imagine.”

he grunted in response, feeling a rare twitch of amusement at the corners of his mouth. it was an unfamiliar sensation, and he didn’t know how to process it, which seemed to be a recurring theme in this room.

“don’t get used to it,” he warned, “next time, those brats won’t know what hit ‘em.”

you rolled your eyes, finally allowing yourself to smile as you watched him head toward the door. “try not to get hit again, dynamite,” you called after him, half-teasing, half-serious.

he glanced back at you, smirking. “don’t hold your breath.”

bakugou made his way down the halls toward the front of the building, a strange shift occurring within him as he thought about the odd sensations he’d experienced in your room. he’d always prided himself on being the toughest, most unbeatable guy around—someone who didn’t need anyone’s sympathy or affection. he certainly didn’t care for any of that sappy, lovey-dovey stuff.

but after you gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and let out that soft laugh—just like the one he’d heard earlier, but this one had been for him—he felt an unfamiliar warmth. your playful teasing, the way your cheeks flushed as you avoided his gaze, and the gentle touch as you healed his cut all lingered in his mind. as he walked out the doors of ua, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he might actually care about that ‘kind of crap.’

∘₊ ────── ₊ ∘ ♡︎ ∘ ₊────── ₊∘

after that, he stopped by every day, always after the students were gone. he didn’t want them getting the wrong idea about his frequent visits. he was only coming by because it was convenient and you were tolerable. plus, you just happened to be on his way out, so he figured he might as well check in to make sure you weren’t slacking off. with the kids getting roughed up more than usual because of him, it was his duty as a pro hero to ensure the school’s support staff could handle the extra strain.

they had reached the end of the week, marking the completion of the first half of finals. students would rest over the weekend to prepare, as next week the rest of the second-years and first-years would be taking their tests. after that, school would be out for winter break and the young pro-heros would get to go back to working full time.

today, he decided to check in and ensure the infirmary was fully stocked. it wouldn’t do for you to run out of supplies in the middle of finals. he couldn’t focus on his part if he knew the kids wouldn’t get the proper care they needed afterward. so he had to make sure you had everything you needed for the upcoming week.

he marched in with his usual scowl, pretending to inspect the shelves while you stared at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion, “do you need anything dynamite?”

“making sure youre all stocked up.” he grumbled, refusing to meet your gaze. “don’t need any of these brats whining because you’re out of bandages.”

“oh? you know, i’m perfectly capable of keeping things in order,” you teased, leaning back against the counter with that same cheeky grin that had been haunting his thoughts.

as if on cue, he’d suddenly remember a tiny scratch on his cheek today. they were always minor injuries—barely worth a second glance—but he made a point of showing them to you, as if they needed your immediate attention, always saying something like:

“got a cut on my finger. don’t need a fuss, just make it quick.”

“got a little nick on my palm, just need it wrapped up or whatever.”

“got a scratch here. honestly nothing, but i guess you should take a look.”

you always had something smart to say, today you went with, “oh, look at that,”

after his second visit, your tone began to shift from actual concern to a mix of amusement and feigned concern. “you’ve got a little scrape. better let me take care of that.”

he’d huff, pretending like it wasn’t a big deal. “just get it over with.”

during his second, third, and fourth visits, you tended to his injury with a regular old first aid kit. you explained that it was better to let such a minor cut heal on its own, emphasizing how small the injury was—something that only seemed to irritate bakugou. you wanted to ensure that his body didn’t become dependent on a quirk for healing, even for minor wounds.

bakugou didn’t argue or ask for any extra attention. he was determined to stay above such petty requests. however, he found that he didn’t mind the touch of your hands, which were gentle and precise. each time your fingers brushed against his skin, he felt a small, unwelcome jolt of warmth, though he never let it show.

but today was different.

today felt like the first day all over again.

he hoped you couldn’t see or feel the heat radiating from him as you leaned in and teased, “so, bakugou, are you here for the healing, or do you just enjoy my company?” you raised an eyebrow playfully. “because these tiny bruises hardly seem worth the trip.”

you gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and he instantly felt the soothing effects of your quirk.

“told you, it’s about staying in top shape. can’t have anything slowing me down, not even a damn scratch,” he snapped, his voice tinged with a forced irritation. “gotta be at my best if i’m gonna be number one.”

as you leaned back, your gaze lingered on him with an unreadable expression. the soft, ambient light of the infirmary cast a gentle glow around you, accentuating the warmth of your smile. despite the cool air, he felt an intense heat creep to his neck, betraying his attempt to stay composed.

bakugou turned his face slightly, trying to ignore the way his heart was pounding. mumbling a quick thanks, he tried to regain his composure, his movements slightly stiff as he prepared to leave.

he walks out of your office thinking about how he wished he would have let his friends talk about the new nurse at ua.

∘₊ ────── ₊ ∘ ♡︎ ∘ ₊────── ₊∘

bakugou nearly missed his visit today. it was the last day of finals, and his friends were eager to celebrate the end of the grueling two weeks of work. they wanted to head to a café around the corner—a favorite spot from their school days. bakugou had initially planned to meet them there, but they insisted on walking together. this was why he now found himself angrily trudging through the school halls, his frown evident as he moved.

when they stepped out of the school, bakugou abruptly stopped in his tracks. he quickly patted himself down, feigning realization that he had forgotten his phone. he put on a show, acting as if he was in a rush to retrieve it.

after a brief and hurried detour, he found his way back to the infirmary, dashing through the corridors with the same urgency as a student late to class. he slowed down every time he passed an open door, then sped up again, repeating this process until he finally arrived back at the infirmary.

his frustration was already high from the charade, but it reached new heights when he saw you and midoriya together, seemingly engrossed in each other. you were sitting close, helping midoriya upload the practical grades onto a computer. the sight of you two so close, with midoriya’s easy smile and your focused attention, only intensified bakugou's irritation.

he slumped onto one of the infirmary beds, his posture stiff and impatient. he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the ceiling, waiting for you and midoriya to finish what he perceived as an overly affectionate interaction. he tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy that flared up every time he glanced at the two of you, his mood darkening with each passing moment.

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen you visit recovery girl this much back in our school days, kachann,” bakugou quickly turned to his childhood friend, his eyes narrowed and his palms began to warm up. but just before he could bark out a reply, you had cut in, “what?”

bakugou’s patience snapped as midoriya’s smirk widened. midoriyas voice dropped to a teasing tone. “oh, nothing. just noticing how often you’re in here these days, bakugou. you know, back in the day, you couldn’t stand being patched up, always rushing out before recovery girl could even finish. funny how things change.”

the words hit bakugou like a punch to the gut. he felt his anger flare, his fists clenching at his sides. he shot to his feet, his voice coming out in a low, threatening growl. “scram, nerd. didn’t want old lady lips on me back then, and i sure as hell don’t want you flappin’ yours now.”

midoriya chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender as he took a step back. he thanked you once more before giving bakugou a teasing smile and walking out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

bakugou’s irritation simmered as he watched midoriya leave. the heat in his cheeks was a mix of embarrassment and anger. he slumped back onto the infirmary bed, trying to shake off the tension that midoriya’s comments had stirred up inside him.

you turned your full attention to him, a small laugh escaping your lips. “you’re really going to blow a gasket one of these days, bakugou,” you teased, walking over with a calm, collected grace. the way you moved, so assured and at ease, only seemed to fuel his inner turmoil.

“shut up and just get on with it,” he grumbled, but it was clear there was no bite to his words. he was trying to mask the red creeping up his neck. he was determined not to let you see how much midoriya’s comments had affected him.

and its like the universe was against him because you couldn’t resist one last tease before getting down to business. “you’ve really gotta tell me, are you here for the treatment, or is it my company you’re after?” the playful glint in your eye made his facade crumble a little bit.

“just do your damn job,” he muttered, though he couldn’t entirely hide the faintest hint of a smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth as he sat back down. your teasing, while annoying, had a way of making him feel strangely at ease.

he decided the universe was on his side again when you leaned in, pressing a light kiss to the small bruise on his shoulder. bakugou watched you intently, his irritation slowly melting away under the soothing warmth of your quirk. despite his gruff exterior, he always found that during these moments with you, whether you used your quirk or not, the constant pressure he carried with him all day would finally start to ease up.

as you gently pulled back, your eyes locked with his. today was the last day he’d have the chance to drop by like this. over the past two weeks, these visits had become a regular part of his routine. lately, he’d started coming in the mornings and in between his scheduled practicals, under the guise of “checking up on the students he roughed up.”

this would be the final time he could casually walk in and share these small, meaningful moments with you. the thought of missing these interactions left him more unsettled than he wanted to admit. before you could say anything, he stood up abruptly, a mix of emotions flashing across his face. without another word, he turned and made his way to the door, his footsteps heavy with unspoken feelings.

“bakugou,” you called out, making him stop pause. he turned to face you, the hint of curiosity in his eyes.

you offered him a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood. “be careful out there. won’t be around to patch all those little scrapes and bruises.”

he raised an eyebrow, his scowl softening slightly as he took in your words. “so?”

you shrugged, a teasing grin on your lips. “sooo don’t want those little injuries to add up and start slowing you down, especially with your fight for the number one spot and all.”

he huffed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “no promises,” he muttered, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned and walked out of your little office for the last time.

the door clicked shut behind him, and as he moved down the hallways, now deserted with all the students gone, he realized that the mess of emotions inside him wasn’t from any damn quirk. on top of that, he couldn’t shake the relentless feeling that he’d regret leaving you behind without finally tell you how he really felt, even if it still confused the hell out of him.

∘₊ ────── ₊ ∘ ♡︎ ∘ ₊────── ₊∘

he was right.

bakugou walked out of his agency with his usual scowl, but his mind was elsewhere. instead of focusing on his next mission, he replayed every interaction between the two of you—how you treated the students and tended to his cuts and bruises. he thought about your caring nature, your teasing attitude, and how your presence seemed to calm him despite his usual irritation. admitting that he missed you or cared more than he let on was still out of the question; he wasn’t ready for that. which is why he found himself in a state of despair.

but it wouldn’t hurt to see you again, he reasoned. after all, he had a sizable cut on his hand from a fierce battle earlier that day—a paper cut from adding more paper to the printer. he blasted his way back to ua high school, his heart pounding for some odd reason.

he rushed up the front steps, frustration barely contained as he shook the door handles, convinced they were just stiff from the cold. as he stepped back, preparing to blast the doors open, he noticed a small sign that read, "winter break has begun—ua is closed." his face fell, disappointment clear in his features.

he completely forgot.

with a muttered string of curses, he turned around, heading back to his agency, his mood darkened by a sense of missed opportunity and lingering irritation.

that same night he nearly looked you up on social media, but decided he was above that–although he had no problems getting purposely ‘injured’ just to see you again. he decided that he needed to talk to you in person. he was not gonna message you on social media like some extra.

though it was painful to admit, bakugou decided midoriya was his best bet for advice, you two were colleagues after all. the two had gone through a rough patch during middle school and their first year of high school, but they’d grown closer after the war. their relationship was like that of brothers, marked by teasing and occasional verbal jabs. and just as midoriya had influenced bakugou, bakugou had also rubbed off on midoriya.

“holy shit, just admit it! admit you like her,” midoriya whisper-yelled, his voice trembling with exasperation as he buried his head in his hands. he’d spent the past hour trying to break through bakugou’s walls, desperately attempting to get his childhood best friend to confess his obvious feelings for you.

“i don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” bakugou replied with a dismissive shrug, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned back in his chair. he crossed his arms over his chest, feigning indifference, but his heart was racing so fast it felt like it might burst out of his chest. the muscles in his jaw tensed as he tried to maintain his composure, but even he could feel the cracks forming in his facade.

midoriya looked up, frustration evident in his furrowed brow. “you’ve got to be kidding me, katsuki. you dragged me out here to talk about her. it’s written all over your damn face.”

bakugou’s eyes flickered with irritation as he let out a low growl, his voice rising slightly in response to midoriya’s persistence. “seriously, what’s your deal with this lovey-dovey crap?” he snapped, leaning forward so forcefully that the chair creaked under the pressure.

“i came here to hang out, not to spill my guts about feelings, and the only thing written on my face is— ”he paused for dramatic effect, pointing to his left cheek,“—number,” he pointed to his right cheek, as if marking the spot. “—one!” his voice rose in defiant emphasis, though the strained expression on his face revealed just how much he was trying to keep his composure.

midoriya’s gaze sharpened, a mix of irritation and amusement dancing in his eyes. but before he could respond, bakugou cut him off sharply.

“i also didn’t drag you anywhere!” bakugou snapped, his voice cracking slightly as he fought to keep his emotions in check. “you came here on your own.”

“so—” midoriya began, but bakugou was already back on the defensive.

“but if you’re so damn desperate to talk about her, then go ahead. i won’t stop you” bakugou interrupted, his voice laced with challenge as he glared at midoriya.

midoriya couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re impossible, you know that? you’re just making it more obvious that you care.”

bakugou’s expression suddenly shifted. He stared at his friend, frustration and resignation mixing in his eyes, his shoulders slumping slightly as if he’d finally decided to let his guard down. “damn it, fine,” he muttered, the words coming out in a mix of defeat and reluctant honesty. “i thought it was just her quirk at first—you know how it works, right? you had that old lady’s lips on you all the time. figured i was just feeling awkward from the situation.”

midoriya’s eyes widened in surprise. “wait, her quirk—”

“hold on, i’m not done,” bakugou snapped, cutting him off abruptly. “after that, she started taking care of me without using her quirk. like, really looking out for me, making sure i was okay. that’s when i figured out it wasn’t just her damn power messing with my head. it’s her. it’s the way she talks, the way she looks at me, the way she gives a damn about people. the more we talked over the past two weeks, the more i realized…i actually give a shit.”

midoriya’s mouth opened, but he was interrupted by both of their phones buzzing with an urgent alert. they both glanced at their screens, and midoriya’s expression shifted to one of concern.

“shit,” bakugou muttered, grabbing his jacket. “they need all pros in the area.”

midoriya nodded, his face set in determination. “we’ve gotta go. now.”

“yeah,” bakugou agreed, already heading for the door. “we’ll talk later.”

they both slammed some cash down onto the table before rushing out of the café, the urgency of the situation taking over. bakugou's thoughts about you and the emotional revelations would have to wait; their immediate priority was to respond to the villain attack and protect the city.

∘₊ ────── ₊ ∘ ♡︎ ∘ ₊────── ₊∘

bakugou limped through the bustling emergency room, his face twisted in pain and frustration. he tried to ignore the nagging sense of vulnerability that came with his injuries. that stupid villain had managed to pull a fast one on him, landing a nasty hit before bakugou practically blew him to bits.

midoriya, being his usual self, had quickly suggested that the best treatment for bakugou’s injuries was at the very hospital where you volunteered, an effort to have you guys see each other again. normally, bakugou would have avoided causing a scene in a hospital, preferring to get patched up at his agency instead. however, midoriya’s persistence and his offer to handle all the paperwork made it difficult for bakugou to refuse.

he sighed as he let kaminari, sero, and kirishima come along with him, clearly annoyed but determined not to let midoriya’s plan fall through. as he trudged along.

the chaotic hustle and bustle of the emergency room was in full swing, a symphony of beeping monitors, hurried footsteps, and urgent conversations. nurses and doctors moved briskly, attending to patients with practiced efficiency. bakugou’s irritation only grew as he was directed to sit and wait for some doctor anderson.

“i’ll wait,” bakugou growled, clenching his jaw. “i want the best of the best. that means ms. y/l/n.”

the medical staff exchanged uncertain glances, trying to balance their duties with the stubborn hero’s demands. “she’s just a volunteer here, and she already has quite the list,” one of the doctors said, attempting to reason with him. “we really need to—”

bakugou’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “you questioning me?!” he snarled, his voice thundering through the corridor, shaking the air with its intensity. the staff, taken aback by his explosive temper, quickly scrambled to comply, knowing better than to argue with him.

with a flurry of activity, they stabilized bakugou’s injuries as best as they could under the circumstances. the urgency in their movements betrayed their anxiety over his demands, but they managed to prepare him for your arrival.

∘₊ ────── ₊ ∘ ♡︎ ∘ ₊────── ₊∘

you moved quickly through the halls of the hospital, your heart racing as you had just received word that pro hero dynamite had just been admitted, and had demanded you to be the one to help him. you had a aching feeling that it wasn't for another scape. you spotted a group of familiar faces clustered together just outside bakugou's room. kirishima, kaminari, and sero were chatting animatedly, their conversation punctuated by bursts of laughter and occasional glances toward the door which gave you a small sense of relief.

“seriously, this is just karma,” kaminari said with a thoughtful frown, peering up at the ceiling as if searching for divine answers. “he was coming to recovery girl for every little scrape, it was so obvious he was trying to get an excuse to see her.”

“yeah,” sero chimed in with a smirk, “ bet you he was milking those tiny injuries just to get a little attention from her.”

kirishima laughed, shaking his head with a rueful grin. “he probably thought if he kept getting those little nicks and bruises, he’d get a chance to talk to her more. pretty clever, but also so very unmanly.”

their laughter and commentary were a strange mix of sympathy and light-hearted teasing. you found yourself frozen in place, hiding just out of sight as you overheard their conversation. the realization hit you hard—bakugou’s frequent visits and seemingly pointless injuries had been his way of getting close to you.

swallowing hard, you took a deep breath before making your way toward bakugou's room. you quickly greeted the pro heroes offering polite nods before pushing through the door. your hands began to sweat, nerves getting the better of you as you creaked the door open.

inside, you let out a sigh of relief mixed with concern. his condition wasn't as dire as you’d feared, but it wasn’t exactly good either. instead of the usual tiny cuts and small bruises you were accustomed to, bakugou had a deep, painful-looking gash on his side. it looked serious, though you could tell he was trying to downplay it.

he turned his head slowly toward you, his eyes barely open but trying to focus. his usual fiery glare was subdued, replaced by an almost vulnerable expression. “hello, dynamite,” you greeted him gently, a playful hint in your voice despite the situation. “thought i told you to be careful.”

bakugou's lips twitched into a weak, smile. “told me not to get any small ones, think i listened pretty well,” he joked, though his voice was strained.

you gave him a small smile, but it quickly faded as you noticed his vitals starting to waver on the monitor beside him. the steady beep of the heart rate was becoming irregular, and your concern spiked.

without hesitation, you activated your quirk, letting your hand hover over the deep cut on his side. the air seemed to crackle with energy as you focused intently, channeling your power to heal the wound. bakugou watched you with growing shock, his eyes widening as the extent of your quirk became apparent.

as you worked, you kept your focus on the healing process, determined to stabilize him. his expression of surprise and awe. despite the situation, you felt a pang of satisfaction seeing the wound slowly mend under your touch.

the room was filled with the quiet hum of medical equipment and the occasional murmurs from the pro heroes outside. you could feel the weight of the room’s concern, but you pushed through, driven by the need to get bakugou patched up.

finally, after a few tense moments, the monitor’s beeping steadied and bakugou’s breathing became more even. you pulled your hand away, your energy slightly drained but relieved that the worst was over for now.

bakugou’s gaze softened as he looked at you, and despite the pain, there was something almost tender in his eyes. “thanks,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

you offered him an awkward smile. “just doing my job.”

the two of you sat in an awkward silence, his gaze fixed on the wall in front of him while you stared at the sheets. you got up, slowly preparing to say goodbye.

“so... your quirk isn’t like recovery girl’s, huh?” bakugou blinked slowly at you, his tone a mix of curiosity and irritation.

you nodded, your expression growing more serious. “yeah, it’s not.”

bakugou’s expression hardened, his voice sharp. “why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“didn’t think i’d have to see you again,” you admitted, frustration creeping into your voice. “and you’re not exactly the saint you pretend to be, either,” you added, your face flushing as you turned towards the window.

bakugou’s eyes widened in surprise, his face turning slightly pink. “what the hell are you talking about?”

“you kept coming to me with those tiny scratches. you never really needed my help; you just wanted an excuse to see me.”

“are you out of your damn mind?!” bakugou roared, his face flushing deeper with anger. “i was using my resources to stay in top shape, alright? nothing more, nothing less!”

“top shape—who the hell talks like that?!” now you were a dark shade of crimson, your face blazing as the argument escalated. “bakugou, just admit it already!”

“there’s nothing to admit! how about you admit you were just waiting for an excuse to kiss me, you perv?!” bakugou’s voice rose, his face now a deeper red, frustration clear in his eyes.

“what?! don’t try to twist this around on me, you little shit! you’re the one who kept stopping by for the most ridiculous reasons—half the time, i didn’t even see anything wrong!” you shot back, your anger matching his.

“and yet you still acted like you wanted to kiss me, you damn freak!” bakugou’s face was now a deep shade of red, his embarrassment and anger mixing in equal measure.

“what?! i’m not a freak! you’re the freak! you just barged into my office and pointed at your cheek. who assumes something like that? if anything, you’re the perv for thinking healers just go around kissing people!” you exclaimed, your frustration peaking.

“that shitty little short circuit said you were the new recovery girl??” bakugou snapped, his patience wearing thin.

“i am? doesn’t mean i have the same quirk,” you retorted, crossing your arms defiantly.

“well, you should’ve just said that’s not how your quirk works from the start!” bakugou growled, his tone defensive, his face still flushed.

“and you wouldn’t have blown me to bits. you were so damn confident when you just pointed at that tiny little scratch! i was just trying to protect myself!” you said, your voice rising in frustration as you turned away from him.

“oh, you’re really pushing it—” bakugou began, his anger barely contained, but he was cut off by kirishima barging into the room.

“sorry, but you’re both being unmanly right now.”

“stay out of this!” you both yelled, turning to the pro. he simply sighed and walked out, shaking his head and muttering about how things were just getting more unmanly by the minute.

there was a long pause as both of you sat in the silence, the weight of the room’s emotions settling around you. the air felt thick, charged with the intensity of the argument and the vulnerability that had emerged. bakugou’s gaze softened as he looked at you, the anger in his eyes giving way to something more introspective. his shoulders relaxed, and his voice took on a quieter, more tentative tone. “didn’t really need your help then,” he said, the words laced with an awkward honesty that caught you off guard.

“i know,” you replied taking a seat at the edge of his bed, your own embarrassment matching his. you took a deep breath, feeling the fight drain from you as the truth settled between you. the tension in the room shifted, morphing from anger to something more fragile and uncertain.

another moment of silence stretched between you, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

“bakugou,” you started softly, searching for the right words. your breath caught in your throat as you looked at him. “i like you,” you confessed, the words slipping out with a mix of shyness and sincerity.

bakugou’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he quickly masked it with his trademark scowl. “had a feeling,” he grumbled, his tone a blend of annoyance and something softer beneath. “took you long enough to admit it.”

before he could react further, you reached out and gave him a playful yet firm slap on the arm. your face flushed with embarrassment and frustration. “what was that for?” bakugou exclaimed, rubbing the spot where you’d hit him, his expression a mix of genuine confusion and mild irritation.

“don’t act all smug,” you shot back, your voice laced with indignation. you’d just confessed your feelings, and instead of offering a heartfelt response, the idiot in front of you had simply said he knew. it was like he didn’t even grasp the weight of what you’d said.

bakugou’s scowl faltered as he looked at you with an unusual hint of vulnerability. his gaze dropped to the floor, and a flicker of uncertainty crossed his features. it was clear he was struggling; he wasn’t used to expressing his feelings or dealing with someone else’s, and it showed.

when he finally looked back up, his expression was serious, but you noticed a rare softness in his eyes. “alright,” he said, his voice low and gruff but edged with an awkward sincerity that seemed out of character for him. “i like you too. a lot. more than i probably should.”

as you both sat there, basking in the newfound honesty between you, the tension began to melt away. bakugou let out a deep breath, and you could see the muscles in his shoulders relax. a comfortable silence settled in, and the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you enjoying each other’s company. for now, there was no need to rush or worry about what came next. you simply savored the moment, feeling a deep sense of connection and contentment.

after a few moments, bakugou shifted slightly, a small, thoughtful look crossing his face. he wasn’t sure if it was the pain meds or the weight of your confession, but he was starting to feel a bit bolder than he had been. breaking the comfortable silence, he turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “ya know,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of his usual gruffness, “i’m still in a lot of pain.” he paused, watching you, as if he was testing the waters for your reaction.

you looked at him, puzzled. “what are you getting at?”

“well, we don’t know for sure if your quirk isn’t like recovery girl’s,” he said, leaning in slightly. “ worked pretty well last time.”

you tilted your head, catching on to his subtle hint. “oh, so you’re suggesting that my quirk might work better if i used it the way recovery girl does? you know, with a bit more—” you paused for dramatic effect, “—personal touch?”

a soft smile spread across his face, his gaze locking onto yours. “something like that.”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “well, if that’s the case, i’d better go check on your friends then. they might need some help too, after all.”

before you could move, bakugou’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a firm yet gentle grip. his eyes softened slightly, a mix of playfulness and sincerity in his gaze. “hey, don’t be a smartass,” he said, pulling you closer. “just... stay here for a minute.”

your heart skipped a beat as you were drawn into his personal space. you looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat. his expression was earnest now, the playful facade giving way to something more genuine.

“bakugou?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“yeah?” he replied, his tone softening as he leaned in slightly.

you could feel the tension between you, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty. his gaze was fixed on your lips, his intention clear even if unspoken. the moment hung in the air, charged with the possibility of a kiss.

finally, with a playful smirk, you tilted your head and teased, “i suppose if you’re still in pain, i should take care of that.”

before you could react, bakugou closed the distance between you. his lips brushed against yours in a warm, gentle kiss. it was soft and sweet, carrying a surprising tenderness that left both of you breathless. the kiss was fleeting but filled with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. as he pulled away, his smirk was replaced by a genuine, tender look. his eyes searched yours, revealing a vulnerability that contrasted with his usual fiery demeanor.

you blinked, still processing the kiss. with a shy smile, you asked, “feel better?”

he quickly buried his face in the side of your neck, causing you to giggle. "yeah," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. you could feel him slowly start to smile against your skin, "better."

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tagslist: @kirikiss @ah-mya @terralupa @purplebirdds @semiji ᐢᗜᐢ

♡ a/n: haha ember refusing to die? yk whos embers died… also haha reach out????! also sorry for the ooc at the end. i just needed that no lie... :D also part of me wants to do a part 3?? but just a bunch of random drabbles of you both getting together and your relationship 🤗

꩜ fr a/n: THANK YOU GUYS SO SO SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY RECENT POSTS LIKE SERIOUSLY THIS IS AMAZING <3 LOVE YOU ALL SO VERY MUCH! I PUMPPPPED THIS CHAPTER OUT AS MY WAY OF SAYING THANK YOU ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

#bakugou katsuki #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #bnha fic #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo #bakugo #dynamight #bakugo katsuki #kacchan

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ittosthicknjuicyazz · 3 months ago

Note

Jealousy and pining. If the HSR men were quietly pining for the reader, how would they handle any sudden jealousy of someone else who is seemingly or even intentionally trying to get closer to the reader in a romantic way? Is there any confrontation? Sabotage? Or does this perceived “threat” encourage them to act on their growing affection for the reader? Or maybe they take a different approach all together, idk- lots of possibilities lol.

a/n: I fw this one. question is, how do i go about it 😟??

disclaimer: ooc blade prolly, violence, death, SA, you wear revealing clothing, not proof read. I'm sorry if this isn't what you imagined, I'm still fairly new to this. Also since I wrote so much for blade he's going to be the only one I write for IM SORRYYYYY 😭 maybe i'll write a part two with a different character.

someone's a wittle bit jealous

Blade

It took him a little while to get used your presence after you joined the Stellaron Hunters. And it took him a little while after that to fall in love with you. And since then, every day he'd find himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you.

Blade looked over at you, his brows slightly furrowed, "you don't have to do this." You looked back at Blade, raising an eyebrow, "uhh, yes I do. It's in the script Blade." He only nodded in refusal, "this is too much, even for you."

You rolled your eyes and rolled the long glove over your arm. Tonight, you wore your sexiest outfit that showed 70% of skin with long gloves. "Think of the mission, Blade. I know you might be jealous and all that, but you gotta put that aside think about what we need to do."

Him? Jealous? "Don't be ridiculous. what would I be jealous for?"

You only laughed in response, "i was only teasing," you looked at the time, "well, i gotta go. You be ready when I need you, yeah?" You smiled and blew him a kiss before turning around and leaving the shared hotel room.

Of course, that kiss did nothing to him. Why would it?

20 minutes passed and he's at the designated club. Immediately his eyes seek for you. He takes a few more steps into the club before he saw you. You sat on another mans lap, an arm wrapped around the back of his neck, your finger lightly tracing random shapes on his chest. You smiled, and giggled, and looked at him as if he was only man in the room.

Of course, Blade felt nothing as he watched the scene unfold. Why would he? This is for the mission. But even he had to admit, your acting was very extremely believable. And maybe it did make him feel...something.

For a split second, the two of you catch each other's gaze. And for that moment, your acting slipped. You no longer had that seductive stare, your expression now unreadable. You squinted and nodded your head just when the man under you diverted his gaze else where.

Blade took the hint, nodding his head in return. The rest of the mission went off without a hitch. Blade managed to make it to the electrical area, shut off the power all over the building, giving you enough time to jab the knife into the mans chest and leave the club before Blade turned the power back on.

Now back at the hotel, you're shivering and rubbing your hands over your arms. "You cold?" Blade wondered. You nodded, "no no, it's just. God, the feeling of that mans hands all over me, it's making me shiver in disgust." You cringe once more, your whole body shivering with intensity as though you were truly cold.

Wait, his hands were all over you? "What do you mean his hands were all over you?" Blade demanded. You shrugged, "Well, he...when you left his hands began to wander and he...groped me. I know that it was part of the plan to seduce him, but it seriously made me feel disgusted...and dirty."

Now Blade felt something. And the feeling spread all over his body. Not only did you have his hands all over that man, but that man was touching you in areas that Blade could only look at. And it made you feel disgusting. If Blade could go back, he would have killed that man himself.

"...disgusting." Blade mumbled, that word being the only thing you heard. And for a moment you thought he was talking about you, "e-excuse me?"

"That man is disgusting," Blade mumbled just a bit louder. He makes his way to you, "Go change." You stare up at him, his body oh-so close yours.

Unknowingly, your heart began to beat just a bit faster, though your shivering died down. It was almost like Blade close proximity warmed you up.

You nod, turning to grab some clothes from your bag and walking to the bathroom. You walk out with a warm set of pjs.

You're met with almost an entirely different room. The two twin sized beds now pushed together with multiple blankets layered on top of each other, not to mention a shirtless Blade on one side of the bed with a remote in his hand, switching between channels on the tv mounted on the wall. Next to him on the bed was a small pile of snacks, somehow all of them being your favorite.

"I was gone for like 5 minutes, how did you manage to do all of this within five minutes?" you questioned. "Sit," Blade responded. You were sat.

You threw the covers over your legs, making sure to set the pile of snacks over the blanket. You had to admit, this was extremely weird and extremely out of character for Blade. But were you complaining? Of course not. You have a shirtless Blade sitting next to you in the same bed. In your book, this is like heaven. And god, were you gonna brag when you got back to base.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked him. "Just relax," Blade responded, putting on a movie he thought would be interesting to you. And it was. You found yourself being relaxed in Blade's presence as you snacked and watched the movie.

And eventually you fell asleep. Blade notices and sighs, pulling your body downward to get your head more situated on the pillows, fluffing them. He then covered your body with the blanket, moving the opened and unopened snacked onto the nightstand. He turned off the TV and got comfortable on his side of the bed, not getting too close to your body. He didn't want you to be uncomfortable, especially after tonights encounter.

Later, you found yourself waking up. It was still dark, but you felt a pressure on the side of your body and over your stomach. You looked over to see Blade snuggled into your side with his large arm over your stomach. You stared in shock, there's no way this is actually happening, right? You and Blade snuggling in the same bed? you've got to be dreaming.

Just when you were going to attempt to move Blade over, not wanting the morning to be awkward, Blade tightened his grip on you. You slightly shivered as he breathed into your neck. No, this was definitely real.

"Never...." he mumbled. You almost coed out loud, Blade sleep talking was absolutely adorable to you. It reminded you that Blade was the same as everybody else, he wasn't devoid of all human emotion, he wasn't a machine. He was a living being just like you were. "Never again..." he mumbled once more.

You sighed and decided to leave it be. If it was going to be awkward in the morning, then so be it. You turned to embrace him, your fingers running through the shorter and longer layers of his hair.

#hsr blade #hsr blade x reader #blade x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail

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