Nori Nori ✮⋆˙

𐔌՞. .՞𐦯 ⋆˙⟡ Other Acc ; busuteme Silly little post

[koreteme]

uurrrghhhhfhfd PLEASE another tomura x tired reader fic i neeeeddddd himmmmm uuggfhhfrhhhhhh

A/N: this isnt going to be long because this is more of a short little one shot acc, also sorry that I got to this so late!!

You must’ve fallen asleep sitting up, because the first thing you feel is a gloved hand nudging your shoulder. “Hey,” Tomura mutters, voice rough like he hasn’t spoken in hours. “You’re gonna hurt your neck like that.”

You blink, groggy, and he clicks his tongue at how slow you move. “Tch. You look dead on your feet.” But he doesn’t walk away. Instead, he crouches in front of you, red eyes narrowing as he studies your exhausted face. “…C’mere.”

It’s barely a whisper, almost annoyed, but he pulls you forward anyway, guiding your head onto his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His fingers hover, careful not to decay you, then settle in your hair with the gentlest pressure.

“Just sleep,” he murmurs, pretending not to care. “I’ll… I’ll stay.”

[busuteme]

Could you please make a bakugou x gn!reader where it's readers first time going to bakugous house or the other way around?

“Don’t Touch Anything.”

bakugou x gn!reader -requested-

(Sorry if it’s not what you expected!)

“You bein’ here… it didn’t piss me off as much as I thought it would. Kinda felt normal. Like you fit, or somethin’. Tch—whatever, forget I said that.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You don’t even get two steps inside before Bakugou’s already barking orders.

“Shoes off at the door. Don’t touch anything.”

You blink, standing awkwardly in the doorway of his house, school bag still slung over your shoulder.

It’s the start of winter break, a rare chance for the UA students to spend a few days at home. Most of Class 1-A scattered the second they got permission. You’d expected Bakugou to do the same. What you didn’t expect… was him asking if you wanted to come with.

And now you’re standing in his house, unsure if you’ve been invited or kidnapped by the world’s most combative host.

The house is quieter than you expected. Warm. Clean, but not in a showy, perfect way, more like someone actually lives here. There’s a pair of fuzzy slippers shoved under the shoe rack. You catch a glimpse of a younger Katsuki in one, cheeks puffed with frosting and sparkler candles lit behind him. Your grin is immediate.

“Don’t,” he snaps before you can speak. “Not a word.” You lift your hands in surrender. “Didn’t say anything.”

“Tch.” You barely have time to toe off your shoes before a voice calls out from the kitchen,

“Katsuki! Is that your little partner?!” Your soul leaves your body. Bakugou stiffens like he’s been stabbed in the spine.

“IT’S NOT…!” he yells, ears flaming. “They’re just a classmate, dammit!”

You lean around him and call, “Hi, Mrs. Bakugou!”

“Hello to you too, sweetie!” she shouts back, totally unfazed.

Bakugou growls something murderous under his breath and shoves you toward the hallway. “Don’t talk to her. Just.. living room’s this way.” He’s walking so fast you almost trip keeping up with him. The hallway’s narrow and plastered with more family photos, Mitsuki in full glam, a softer man you assume is his dad holding a toddler Katsuki, and one where Bakugou’s wearing a cape made of tinsel. Your grin widens.

“You better not be laughing back there,” he warns, not looking back.

“I would never,” you say sweetly.

The living room is comfy and a little chaotic in a domestic way, worn-in couch, TV remote missing its back, a folded kotatsu blanket pushed to one side. There’s an old beanbag chair in the corner, probably from his middle school days, and a hero-themed calendar on the wall that hasn’t been flipped since October.

You sit, cautiously, on the far end of the couch. He plops down beside you with a grunt, arms crossed like he’s bracing for impact.

“It’s… nice,” you say, looking around.

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not,” you insist. “It’s kind of nice seeing where you grew up.” That earns you a look, suspicious and slightly pink around the ears. “You’re annoying.”

“You’re blushing.”

“Shut up.”

Before you can tease him further, you hear the distinct clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen and Mitsuki yelling, “KATSUKI, TELL YOUR FRIEND TO STAY FOR DINNER. I’M MAKING KARAAGE.”

Bakugou slams his head back against the couch with a groan. “She’s gonna talk your ear off.”

You lean in with a grin. “So she likes me?”

“She likes everyone. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Later, after an extremely loud dinner where Mitsuki absolutely grilled you with a hundred questions (“Are you top of the class?” “You think Bakugou’s attractive?”), and Masaru quietly handed you extra rice behind his wife’s back like an accomplice, Bakugou finally walks you to the front door. It’s quiet now, just the two of you. He’s leaning against the frame, arms crossed tight across his chest.

“…Thanks for coming,” he says, barely above a mutter.

You smile at him. “Thanks for inviting me.” He clicks his tongue, but his cheeks are still warm.

“…Next time, I’ll come to yours.”

And then, true to form, he closes the door before you can respond. You stand there for a second, stunned.

Then, the click of the lock.

And inside, just behind the door, you know he’s still standing there.

Trying so hard not to smile.

And failing.

[koreteme]

imagine, Todoroki noticing you rubbing your arms in the cold during training and quietly shrugging off his jacket to drape it over your shoulders. “You’re shivering,” he says softly, eyes avoiding yours. “Just… wear it.” And when you start to hand it back or tell him you’re fine, he gently pushes it closer around you and mutters, barely above a whisper, “Don’t argue. It’s warmer on you anyway.”

[koreteme]

Pro hero!Todoroki moves through his mornings with a quiet purpose, the kind that comes from knowing the person he loves is waiting at the end of every day. He trains hard, not out of pressure, but because he wants to be someone worthy of standing beside you. He’ll send you a sleepy selfie after patrol, hair messy and eyes soft, saying, “I’m coming home soon. Don’t wait up if you’re tired.” But he knows you’ll wait anyway. And when he walks through the door to find you curled on the couch, he can’t help the small, warm smile that slips out. “You should’ve gone to bed. …Though I’m glad you didn’t.”

On evenings when he gets home early, he’s the one cooking. He hums quietly while chopping vegetables, glancing over his shoulder just to see you in the kitchen doorway. “Sit,” he murmurs gently, nudging a chair out for you. “You’ve worked enough today.” After dinner, he listens as you talk about your day, nodding thoughtfully, thumb brushing your knuckles. He’s not great with flowery words, but he is steady, present, sincere. And sometimes, when the city quiets down and the lights glow soft through your living room windows, he leans his forehead against yours and whispers, “Marriage is… peaceful, with you. I didn’t know life could feel like this.”

He’s not showy with affection, but he’s consistent. In the way he warms your side of the bed before you crawl in. In the way he leaves little sticky notes on the fridge reminding you to drink water. In the way he presses a kiss to the top of your head before dawn patrol, lingering just a second longer than he means to. For Todoroki, loving you isn’t just something he does between hero work. It’s the quiet heartbeat of his life, and he gives it to you without hesitation, without fear, with all the care he never thought he’d be able to show.

[koreteme]

Shigaraki notices you rubbing your eyes for the tenth time while you’re supposed to be helping him sort through some stolen tech, and he lets out an annoyed sigh. “Great. You’re useless like this,” he mutters, snatching the device from your hands before you drop it. When you start to protest, he nudges your shoulder with two fingers gentle for him, but still sharp. “Just lie down before you pass out on my stuff,” he says, looking anywhere but at you. Your tired smile makes him click his tongue, cheeks faintly red. “Don’t, don’t look at me like that. I’m not being nice. You’re just a disaster when you’re tired, so go.”

[koreteme]

Okay but imagine, Bakugou catching you yawning during study time and grumbling something like, “Tch. Go to sleep, idiot. You look like hell, ‘n I don’t need you keelin’ over on me.” But when you try to respond, he flicks your forehead and looks away, muttering, “Don’t make a big deal outta it, alright?”

[overpassart]

the final boss 💥

[koreteme]

Pro hero!Kirishima lives like every sunrise is another chance to do right by the people he loves, and you’re always at the center of that. When he trains, he trains harder because he wants to be strong enough to protect you, not out of pride, but because the thought of you cheering him on makes his chest feel warm and steady. He’s the kind of guy who’ll FaceTime you late at night just to show off a new move or bruise, smiling through the screen even when he’s exhausted. “See that? Totally manly, right? Don’t worry, it barely hurts.”

On slow mornings, he’s the one knocking on your door with coffee and that sunshine grin, insisting, “Couldn’t start my day without seeing you, y’know?” He’ll walk you to school or training, matching your pace no matter how slow it is, joking about how he’s “your official bodyguard.” But sometimes, when the world quiets down, when you’re sitting on the dorm roof and the city hums below, he’s a little softer. He admits in that low, earnest voice, “You make it easier to be brave. Like… no matter what happens, I’ve got something real to fight for.”

He’s not flashy about his affection. It’s in the small things. The way he carries your bag without being asked. The way he laughs at your jokes like they’re the best thing he’s ever heard. The way he looks at you when you’re not paying attention, all heart and awe and quiet devotion. For Kirishima, loving you isn’t something that happens between hero work, it is work, peace. And he does it with everything he’s got.

[koreteme]

Hawks lives his life like the clock’s always ticking, every second borrowed from someone who needs saving, but with you, he refuses to waste a single one. Even with the constant buzz of his earpiece and the weight of the world on his wings, he squeezes every bit of warmth he can out of the moments he gets with you. If it’s five minutes before patrol, he’s got you in his lap, head buried against your shoulder, murmuring, “Five whole minutes. That’s basically a vacation.” If it’s a quick stop between missions, he’s hovering outside your window just long enough to press a kiss to your forehead and grin, feathers ruffling in the wind. He never lets himself pretend he’s got all the time in the world, he knows better than anyone how fast life can change, but that’s why he makes every second count. Late-night takeout eaten on rooftops. Lazy mornings where he’s gone before sunrise but leaves a note scrawled on the pillow, “Didn’t wanna wake you. Still thinking about your smile”. Even when he’s exhausted, bleeding, or running on fumes, he’ll always find a way to give you something real, a touch, a joke, a moment that feels like forever tucked into seconds. “Heroes don’t get much time off,” he says once, his fingers tracing circles on your wrist, eyes soft behind his usual grin. “So I just make sure every second with you feels worth the wait.”

[koreteme]

Saiki doesn’t announce his feelings, but the way he hovers in your orbit is impossible to ignore. He always insists it’s “coincidence” when he shows up wherever you are, but the truth is, he’s tracking every single thought you have. When someone else tries to get too close, too friendly, there’s a subtle shift. Their phone dies mid-conversation. They suddenly remembered something they forgot to do or get. A sudden distraction pulls them away.

To you, he’s the same quiet, unreadable presence, always nearby, always just within reach if you need him. But behind that calm exterior, his attention never wavers. Every cough, every sigh, every fleeting glance is catalogued in his mind, stored away like it matters more than anything else. He doesn’t need to cling physically, his powers make sure you’re never out of his reach anyway. And while he’ll shrug off any suspicion with a bored “You’re imagining things,” there’s no denying the way his gaze sharpens whenever anyone threatens to pull you from his gravity.

You belong in his world, whether you realize it or not. And Saiki Kusuo has No intention of letting you drift anywhere else.

[koreteme]

It’s quiet between you and Saiki, but it isn’t awkward. He sits across from you, stirring his coffee jelly with the same detached calm he always has, while you ramble about something small, maybe a show you’re watching or a weird thing that happened today. He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t add much, but you can tell he’s listening by the way his eyes flick to you every now and then. The air feels… easy. Comfortable.

When you pause, unsure if you’re talking too much, he'll gesture for you to keep going or slide you your favorite snack, like he anticipated the silence before it even happened. It’s such a simple gesture, but it’s grounding in its own way. Saiki doesn’t laugh at your jokes or flood you with reassurance; he just stays there, steady and present. And somehow, that makes you feel lighter than any words ever could.

[ochacouraraka-kin]

the best dude out there

[koreteme]

Saiki doesn’t “take care” of you the way normal people do. He doesn’t hover or ask if you need anything, because he already knows. Before you even realize you’re thirsty, there’s a fresh glass of water floating onto your nightstand. The medicine bottle always seems to move closer the moment you think about it. When you try to sit up, the blanket pins you down with just enough psychic pressure that you have no choice but to stay put. He sits across the room with his usual blank expression, spooning coffee jelly into his mouth like this is all completely routine. If you thank him, he just shrugs and mutters, “Don’t mention it.” But then you catch the way his eye twitch’s every time you cough, or how he doesn’t leave your side until you’ve finally fallen asleep, and it’s clear, he’s watching over you more closely than he’ll ever admit.

[koreteme]

Izuku would hover like the sweetest, most worried nurse when you’re sick, constantly fumbling with the thermometer, checking your forehead with his scarred but careful hands, his brows knit tight every time you sneeze or cough like it’s happening to him. He’d murmur encouragements while tucking the blanket snug around you, “Y-you don’t have to be strong right now… please just let me help, okay?” He’d sit close by your bed with his notebook in his lap, jotting reminders about when to give you water or medicine, his leg bouncing with nervous energy but his smile softening instantly whenever your tired eyes meet his.