selfish | bakugo x reader

Chapter 21

He shoved off from the training mat, rolling to his feet with a controlled burst from his palms. He doesn't look at the cluster of extras groaning on the far mats, Kirishima and Kaminari nursing scorched arms and bruised ribs from his "warm-up" rounds. He'd gone harder than usual, his blasts jagged and reckless, ensuring they needed more than a bandage.

"Don't just sit there gawkin' at the idiots. They're leakin all over the floor." He roared, pacing like a predator while the air thickens with the scent of nitroglycerin. "Fix em. Then get them back here so I can knock the wind out of them again. Move it!"

Y/N could see it. He was doing this for her.

She walked up to Kirishima and Kaminari, kneeling on the mat before them and touching their injuries. After small cuts, burns became her next step and because of Bakugo, she had a lot of patients.

It was convenient. Too convenient.

The burns appeared on her arm, but they disintegrated faster now. Rather than the normal few more minutes.

"That's cool, Y/N," Denki leaned forward, "You don't have to be hurting for a long time! How do you feel?" He asked, tilting to look at her expression.

"I feel okay. Thank you." She said politely.

Bakugo stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, watching YN's  every move with an analytical gaze. He tracked the way the burns migrate from Kirishima's skin to hers, his eyes sharpening as the marks fade into flesh faster than they did yesterday. It's progress, but it clearly isn't enough to satisfy him.

Because every step she made to improve was a step closer to her tackling more painful wounds.

He stomped closer, his shadow falling over Y/N as he looms. "And quit the polite crap. You aren't doing 'em a favor if you pass out because your brain is as empty as your stomach."

He reaches into his equipment belt, pulling out a squashed, high-protein energy bar and shoving it toward Y/N's face with enough force to nearly clip her nose.

"Eat. Now."

"Kacchan, she literally just said she feels okay," Kaminari started, but a small, warning pop of nitroglycerin from Bakugo's palm silenced him instantly.

"I didn't ask how she felt, Pikachu! I can see her blood sugar dropping from here. You're pale as a damn ghost, idiot. If you don't shove some calories in your face, I'm gonna blast you into the cafeteria myself." He doesn't budge, the bar still pressed against Y/N's personal space. "Don't argue with me. Chew."

She took the energy bar and opened it, obeying his orders. "Thank you but I just had my snack earlier."

His ears turned red, he saw that earlier. Bakugo had been tracking her food intake.

So maybe he just wanted an excuse to shift Y/N's focus. Was that a damn crime?

"Earlier snack was what, a single damn rice ball? Tch. That ain't fuel, that's a snack for ants." He grabs her wrist mid-bite, yanking it closer to make sure she actually chewed, his grip firm but not bruising. "Chew."

His ears are burning, but he doesn't notice, or care. The gym doors hissed open behind him, Aizawa's scarf slithering in first, the underground hero's tired eyes scanning the scene.

"Problem children," Aizawa drawls, gaze remaining on Bakugo's white-knuckled hold. "Training ends. Scouts confirmed at the perimeter. L/N, dorm lockdown. Bakugo, escort."

Bakugo releases Y/N with a shove toward the exit, already striding ahead, gauntlets humming. "Move your ass, healer. And finish that bar before I make you."

Maskara was here?

Granted, he didn't have a healer like Y/N to keep him invincible but the villain had such an insatiable thirst for blood. And both of them remembered his threat on TV:

"If I have to kill everybody, I will. Give it back."

Y/N followed Katsuki, her footsteps sure as he moved through buildings as if hiding them from view. "Father," No, Maskara wasn't her father. He used her. He kidnapped her. "He's intent in taking me back." She whispered.

Bakugo stopped dead in his tracks. He doesn't turn around immediately, but his shoulders hunch, and the air around his hand begins to shimmer with a dangerous, volatile heat. He spun on his heel, his face a mask of jagged fury that isn't directed at Y/N, but at the very idea of the man she just mentioned.

"Don't call that piece of filth Father," he snarls, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates in his chest. He steps into her space, forcing her to look up at him. "He didn't give you a damn thing but scars and a twisted head. He doesn't get to take anything. You aren't a tool, and you sure as hell aren't his."

He grabs the collar of Y/N's gym jacket, not to hurt, but to ground, his eyes burning into hers with a terrifying, absolute certainty.

"Let him come. Let the bastard bring every lackey he's got. I'll turn 'em into a pile of ash before they even see your shadow." He lets go, his hand dropping to his side where a small, rhythmic of explosions punctuates his resolve. "Keep walkin'. And keep your head up. You're lookin at the floor like a victim again. Look at me."

Y/N nodded. Katsuki Bakugo had her back, he always did. He was determined to make sure she lived her life away from that kind of life. "Yes." She said, her voice determined.

She was studying how to improve her healing better. She's learning to pick what she wanted to do with her life. So she can step out into the world with the ability to choose for herself.

All of their classmates were doing whatever they can to help her.

She wasn't about to give up on them now.

Bakugo's expression doesn't soften, he doesn't do soft, but the murderous tension in his jaw eases just a fraction at the sound of Y/N's voice. He likes that tone. It's not the hollow, subservient whisper of a puppet; it's got teeth.

"Bout damn time you sounded like you meant it," he grunted, spinning around to lead the way again.

The sun is dipping low, casting long, skeletal shadows across the UA campus. Every rustle of the nearby trees makes his head snap to the side, his eyes scanning for the slightest shimmer of a cloaking quirk or a drone's lens. He stays half a step ahead of you, positioned perfectly to take a hit or deliver one.

"When we get back, you're not hidin in your room," he said, his voice cutting through the evening quiet. "You're gonna sit in the common room where I can see you. I'm gonna make you eat a real meal, and then we're goin' over defensive forms. If that bastard shows his face, I want you ready to break his nose before I blast his legs off."

He smirked at her and she nodded enthusiastically right back.

Time to fight back.