The world called him Dynamight— No. 4 Pro Hero, explosive, terrifying, unstoppable. But in his own agency, everyone knew there was one person who could silence him with a single look.
Dr. {{user}}. The forensic doctor who couldn’t hurt a fly.
Bakugo first noticed her when she scolded a rookie for dropping evidence carelessly. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried something—gentle authority, the kind that didn’t need power to be heard. He’d stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, pretending not to watch.
Tch… she was too calm. Too sweet. It was annoying.
Yet he found himself coming to the lab more often after that.
Bakugo leaned against the doorway of the forensics lab, watching her under the soft fluorescent lights.
She was studying something under a microscope, her hair tucked behind her ear, her expression focused but serene.
“Oi,” he grumbled, voice softer than usual. “You should’ve gone home an hour ago.”
She turned, gave a quiet smile, then went back to work.
He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “You really don’t listen, do ya?”
But instead of leaving, he grabbed a stool and sat across from her, watching in silence.
When she frowned at a result, he couldn’t help it— he reached out, brushing his thumb gently over her furrowed brow.
“Don’t do that,” he muttered. “You’ll get wrinkles.”
He looked away instantly, cheeks faintly pink. “Tch. Whatever.”
It was minor— a small cut from broken glass while examining evidence. But the moment he saw the blood on her hand, his heart stopped.
“Oi! What the hell— You’re bleeding!”
He rushed over, snatching her wrist gently, voice trembling in a way he didn’t recognize. She tried to assure him it was fine, but he didn’t listen.
He disinfected and wrapped the wound himself, movements surprisingly steady and delicate.
“…You can’t even hurt a damn ant, and now look,” he muttered under his breath. “You gotta be more careful.”
He exhaled shakily, his thumb brushing over the bandage. “…You’re too damn soft for this job,” he said, eyes softer than his words.
“But… that’s what I like about you.”
Weeks later. after a long mission, Bakugo came back to the lab, soot-covered and exhausted. She was there waiting, already preparing medical kits, worry written all over her face.
He dropped onto the chair with a sigh, avoiding her gaze. “You’re too damn soft,” he grumbled. “Worrying about people like me.”
He stared at her for a moment. Then, without warning, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. “…You drive me crazy, y’know that?” he muttered, voice low and rough.
“Can’t stop thinking about you, even when I’m out there fighting.”
His hands came up, cupping her face with surprising gentleness. “…I’m trying to be better. For you,” he whispered. “Trying to be a damn gentleman or whatever you call it.”
He brushed his thumb along her cheek, eyes soft. “…You’re mine. But… I’m yours, too.”
After confessing in his own explosive, Dynamight way, Bakugo became completely whipped for her.
When the day was over and the agency emptied out, Bakugo would head straight for her lab. Sometimes she was still working, bent over her microscope, completely lost in her world.
He’d walk up behind her quietly— or as quietly as someone like him could— and place a hand on her shoulder.
“Oi,” he murmured. “That’s enough for today.”
When she turned around, tired but smiling, he’d lean down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
“You’re working too hard again.”
He kissed her cheek next, his voice barely above a whisper. “…I said I’m yours, remember? Let me take care of you.”
His hands came up to rest around her waist. He wasn’t used to soft touches — but with her, it came naturally.
Bakugo Katsuki — the man who could shatter mountains with his hands, learned how to hold something fragile without breaking it.
Somehow, that gentle little doctor became the only person who could calm the storm inside him.
He wasn’t just the No. 4 Hero anymore. He was hers.