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nanasrkives · 5 months ago

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navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! the mha EP!

"SKINCARE NIGHT" ─ Bakugo Katsuki, Kirishima Eijiro, Kaminari Denki, Todoroki Shoto

was doing skincare while watching mha and i thought why the hell not :) content : fluff. crackfic. menace known as bakugo. multicharacter. 3.6k words.

BAKUGO KATSUKI

You were in the middle of your skincare routine when the door slams open without warning, the impact rattling the frame as Bakugo Katsuki bursts in your room like he owns the place.

"Oi ! Let's—" he starts, voice rough and demanding, but then he sees you. His words falter as he freezes. For a moment, there is nothing but silence. His red eyes snap open a fraction as he takes in the sight before him. You, cross-legged on your bed, a sheet mask pressed gently to your face, your fingers smoothing the edges of the mask as you settle into the feeling of the cool serum.

"The fuck is that !?" he snarls, his own voice shrill with wariness as he takes a step back as if you've just turned into a faceless demon. You blink slowly, raising an eyebrow. "A face mask ?" He gestures towards you, furrowing deep in suspicion, his voice gruff. "Why the hell do you look like that, woman?" You roll your eyes, while patting your cheeks to allow the product to penetrate. "It's skincare, Katsuki. It's literally just a mask." He doesn't appear to be convinced. His posture is still defensive, arms crossed over his chest tightly, as if coming any closer to you would somehow taint him. His scowl darkens. And then, as if catching himself looking ridiculous, his lips twist into a smug, annoyed smirk. "Tch. You look stupid as fuck."

You snort, struggling not to laugh. There it is. As soon as he gets off track, he reverts back to being an asshole. Classic Bakugo. "And yet…" You tilt your head, eyes glinting with trouble. "My skin's softer than yours." His eyes light up, the gauntlet thrown in his chest. "Bullshit. My skin's perfect." You hum thoughtfully, bending over to your nightstand and grabbing a fresh sheet mask from the pile. You lift it slowly, making a production out of what you're doing, and a grin pulls at your mouth. "Then show me." Bakugo's entire body stiffens, his position becoming rigid in surprise. "What?"

"If your skin is really that perfect," you say lightly, voice sweet and naive, "then you wouldn't be afraid to do a little skincare, right?" His eye darts, that old, competitive fire burning. You can practically see the moment he takes the bait, the moment the challenge gets into his head. "Who the hell said I was afraid, woman? You shrug indifferently, your voice laced with sarcasm. "You literally flinched when you saw me."

"I DIDN'T FUCKING FLINCH," he snaps, his annoyance evident in the rising tone. You fight off the smile, fingers closing hard around the packet in your hand. "So you're doing it, then?" Bakugo doesn't even hesitate. He swipes the packet out of your hand so fast you don't even have a chance to think. "Fine."

You watch with amusement as he rips the packaging apart as if it hurt him personally, then with a snarl, rips out the damp sheet mask from its packaging. He looks at it like it's something from another world or something, confusion crossing his face.

"How the fuck do you even—" You exhale in exasperation, crossing your legs to sit. "Fold it up and put it on already, genius." With a huff, Bakugo slaps the mask over his face, but the problem? It's completely off. One of the holes for his eyes is slightly off-center, his nose is partially obscured, and the edges are all creased up like he's trying to put on a badly fitting helmet.

You look at him, impassive. "Bakugo Katsuki. Fix it."

"The fuck? It's on!" he grumbles with a huff, clearly irritated. "You look like a serial killer," you quip, eyeballing the badly placed mask. He shoots you a glare even nastier but ungraciously shoves it—a tad too hard—into place until it's properly centered. His entire body is dripping with irritation, but the mask is on well, technically. Which is when you notice it. You pick up the pink and fluffy headband you'd eyed all evening. It is soft, stupid, and most importantly has cat ears hanging off the front. Before he can protest, you put the headband on his head, smoothing his messy blond hair back so it's sitting perfectly. The room is quiet for a crackling moment. Bakugo blinks once. Twice. Then, his eyes slowly drift to the mirror at the opposite end of the room. Face mask. Pink cat-ear headband. He stares at himself. You can almost imagine the gears cranking in his head as he processes the picture. It is so utterly, brutally off the mark that you almost feel a twinge of sympathy for him.

Almost. Finally, Bakugo's head swivels back towards you, his growl low and threatening as he utters a single word, "Woman." You struggle to suppress your laughter. You do, really. But the image of him, so angry and outraged, the cat ears sitting atop his head… it's just too much. You clench your lip, holding out for just another moment. "Yes babe?" He doesn't crack a smile. Doesn't even flinch. His voice is still icy, but you can sense the threat underlying. "You better fucking sleep with one eye open." And that's when you lose it. You double over, your laughter erupting in a loud, uncontrollable sound. Your hands are clutched over your stomach as you struggle to breathe, tears building up in your eyes. Bakugo stands before you, regarding you, the death glare still very much intact, but his shoulders are ever so slightly tense with embarrassment. "Aww, come on," you gasp, wiping away a tear from your eye. "You're cute." His eyes twitch. "Shut the hell up." But all the threats of death and the glares, and Bakugo still does not take off the mask. Doesn't even touch the thing. Crosses his arms tightly over his chest, still scowling, but now you see it. The corners of his mouth are just slightly softer. And if he just remains there for all ten minutes, arms crossed and still scowling but silently enjoying the cold against his skin? Well, that's a secret for you, him, and his perfect damn skin.

KIRISHIMA EIJIRO

Kirishima Eijiro was the type of guy who always go headfirst, and tonight was no different. You had just mentioned to him about having a skincare night, and now he was literally bouncing off the walls with excitement. "Alright y/n, tell me the first step! Let's do this!" he babbled on his heels with his trademark grin.

You laughed, handing him the exfoliating scrub and a sheet mask. "Start with this scrub. It will exfoliate your skin before we put on the hydrating mask."

"Ex-fo-liate?" Kirishima stared at the tub in his hands like it was an alien relic. "What the hell is exfoliate?

You smiled, trying to stifle your giggles. "It's just a bougie way of saying 'removing dead skin cells.' It'll make your skin smooth."

His brow furrowed in thought, then he shrugged it off. "Okay, so it's like fighting bad guys, but for my face?"

You nodded, slightly more seriously than you intended. "Yes, exactly."

With that, Kirishima jumped in, scrubbing with intense focus. He wasn't particularly gentle—his face was scrunched up, and he scrubbed a little too hard in places—but you couldn't help but smile at how persistantly he was scrubbing.

You winced a little when he scrubbed a little too hard. "Uh, Eijiro ? You don't need to press so hard babe."

"Huh?" He stopped, gaping up in a confused manner. "But I thought I had to exfoliate and remove the dead skin cells! Gotta break 'em!" You smiled and shook your head. "More like be gentle."

"Be gentle, okay!" Kirishima repeated back, nodding before continuing with lighter fingers. "This makes complete sense now."

Once he washed it off, he turned his attention to the sheet mask you had given him. "Alright, now what are we doing ?"

"Face Mask !" You said as you gave him the sheet mask, and he just looked at it for a second, not really knowing how to go about doing it.

"Uh. I don't know how to—" he said, his tone hesitant, but only briefly.

"Just unfold it delicately," you instructed. "And see how you can make it stay on your face right."

He nodded gravely, although the mask was plainly giving him a bit of difficulty. With two fumbling pulls, he eventually slapped the mask over his face, although the fit was hardly ideal—one side off-center, and the mask creased where it met the jawline.

He stared at his reflection, as if debating some deep philosophical conundrum. "Well, I look pretty good, right?" he said, adjusting the mask once more.

You looked at him and couldn't help but smile. Although the mask was a bit crooked, Kirishima's persistent confidence still shone through. He looked like a warrior—firm and ready to take on anything, even if that was battling a face mask.

"You're glowing," you teased, clearly enjoying his misery so desperately struggling.

He grinned back, clearly pleased. "Hell yeah, I'm glowing. I knew I'd kill this."

You two talked and laughed the next few minutes away, Kirishima never losing his optimism. Despite having no idea what he was doing sometimes, he was truly enjoying himself. He just kept going on about how great the cooling feeling was on his face, and how "manly" skincare was.

"Man, this cooling thing is amazing y/n," he breathed softly, running his finger over his face tenderly, his eyes wide with disbelief that he liked it so much. "I never thought skincare could be this great. This definitely is going into my routine."

You smiled, struck by the level to which he was captivated by it. "Yeah? I'll have to get you more some time."

"Hell yeah! I'm so in!" Kirishima said excitedly. "Next week?"

When the timer beeped, signaling that it was time to remove the mask, Kirishima removed it hastily and washed his face. His face did look a little brighter, and he looked pleasantly surprised at the result.

"Whoa," he said, his eyes wide as he touched his skin. "My face feels so much better. I didn't think it'd work."

You gathered up the used sheet mask and bottles of lotion, chuckling at the amount of satisfaction Kirishima had derived from it despite being such a seemingly ordinary process.

Then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Kirishima leaned forward and burried you in a large, bear hug, pulling you into his chest as he began peppering kisses all over your face. You could feel his face still a little sticky from the mask, but he didn't even realize it.

"Thanks for doing this with me," he whispered, his face pressed against your shoulder. "This was incredible. Can we do this every week?"

You laughed, holding him close. "Of course baby, I'd love that."

He pulled back slightly, still grinning from ear to ear. "Next time, I'm bringing my own masks. I'm gonna be a skincare master in no time."

You chuckled, shaking your head fondly. “You’re already well on your way, Eijiro.”

And despite the fact that his face was still sticky with mask remnants, Kirishima looked completely content. He wasn’t just embracing the fun of skincare, but he was also genuinely proud of how seriously he took it.

KAMINARI DENKI

It had been an exhausting day, but you were looking forward to your skincare night—just you, your face mask, and a little bit of relaxation. That is, until your boyfriend, Kaminari Denki, decided he'd be a part of the fun. He came barging into your room, without knocking as always, with this huge grin on his face.

"Yo babe, what's going on in here?"

You were sitting on the bed, getting ready to put on your mask, and you raised an eyebrow at him. "I was going to do my skincare. Why?"

"Skincare, huh?" Denki's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "I've seen this stuff on TikTok. People get all dewy and radiant and talk about hydration and glowy skin. I wanna see what all the hype is about."

You sighed, already aware of where this was going. "You're really gonna ruin my skincare night for this?"

Denki gave you a playful smile and seated himself next to you on the bed. "Hell yeah I'm down ! I'm ready to get glowing too. We're in this together, right?"

You gave him an incredulous look. "It's not some kind of competition, Denki. You have to do the steps."

He waved you off. "I've got this. I've been watching TikTok. How difficult can it be?"

You handed him the cleanser first, eyeing him warily as he took it from your hand. He uncapped it and sniffed. "What is this? You look like you're going to perform a science experiment, not skincare."

"Just wash your face with it," you said, trying not to laugh. "It's not that complicated."

He grinned. "Easy enough!"

He started putting the cleanser on his face, but instead of gently massaging it in, Denki was essentially scrubbing his face raw, rubbing his hands around in aggressive circles. It was like he was trying to scrub off a whole layer of skin.

"Uh, not like that…" you tried to tell him, but he didn't seem to listen.

As he rinsed his face, he faced you with a wide grin. "Alright! Step one, done! I already feel refreshed!"

You stifled your smile. "You're definitely… something. Let's just get to the mask."

You handed him the sheet mask, which he looked at with a mix of suspicion and expectation.

"Okay, okay, I got this," he muttered, looking at the package like it was a treasure map. He tried to open the mask, but it was like attempting to watch a car crash in slow motion—he just couldn't quite manage to do it right.

"I saw this on TikTok, you just—" Denki tried to put it on, but the mask was too big for his face, and it looked like it was going to slip off at any second. His lips were covered, but so were his eyes, and the whole thing was just askew.

You couldn't help it. "Denks, what the hell are you doing?"

Denki’s eyes were wide behind the mask, and he tried to adjust it, making matters worse. “What?! It’s like skincare armor. I’m doing it right.”

He stepped back and admired himself in the mirror, hands on his hips, clearly proud of his “work.” “Look at me babe. This is perfect, right?”

You snickered. “You look like a glazed donut.”

"What? No way! I'm glowing, aren't I?" Denki asked, clearly not seeing the absurdity of it all. He tugged at the mask, trying to get it straight, but it continued to slip, and you couldn't help it anymore, the laughter just escaped.

"Okay, okay, okay, got it!" Denki cried, turning to face you again, clearly amused by himself. "You're only jealous of my glowing skin. I can feel the aura coming off of me already."

You shook your head, trying to stop yourself from laughing. "I don't think it's your skin that's glowing right now, Denki. It's the ridiculousness of your whole experience."

He paused, stared at you for a bit, then broke into a wide grin. "Hey, as long as my skin's moisturized, I'm game."

After about ten minutes of Denki trying not to move—unsuccessfully, of course—he took off the mask and promptly touched his face. "Whoa. This is awesome, y/n! I could totally get used to this. My skin is so soft now. I'm basically a skincare expert."

You couldn't help but grin at him. "It's not a competition, Denki. But, okay, we'll say you're a skincare guru."

Denki was practically glowing now—not only from the mask, but from being so proud of himself.

"You're the best, babe," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pink headband you had to put on him to keep his hair out of his face. "I'm so doing this again next week. You ready?"

You couldn't help giggling. "Yeah, next week, Denki. But maybe no more TikTok tutorials."

TODOROKI SHOTO

Todoroki Shoto didn't have any idea what he was getting himself into when he said he would hang out with you. He had spent the whole day training and just needed a bit of relaxation, so he thought some peace and quiet in your room would be the best way to unwind. But as soon as his eyes landed on the array of skincare products on your shelf, he should have known things were about to take a turn. You were seated cross-legged on the bed with a jar of face scrub and a sheet mask in each of your hands. You noticed that he glanced over at the products and grinned promptly. "Well hello boyfriend," you said with a sinister sparkle in your eye. "Why don't you join me for some skincare?" Shoto raised an eyebrow, looking surprised. "Skincare? Me? You nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I need a model for my routine. You're just the one for it."

He blinked slowly and for a moment, you feared he would say no, but he sighed, clearly too tired to protest. "Fine. Okay, I guess I'll do it. But no weird stuff, okay?" You grinned, already contemplating on how you would pamper him. "No jokes, I promise. Just lay back, chill out, and let me get my hands in." Shoto settled back into the pillows, eyes already beginning to shut as he prepared himself. He did not seem to mind too much when you started with the skincare. And why would he, anyway? How awful could it possibly be?

You worked with your cleanser first, carefully applying it after damping his face with a wet cotton pad. Shoto barely flinched, his face easing under your fingers. It was clear he was trying to relax, probably due to stress from the day, and his calm mood merely made your job easier. "See? Not that bad," you teased while rubbing the cleanser on his skin. Shoto hummed. His eyes were still closed, and you could sense his shoulders relax even further under your touch. It was like he was in his own little world now, relaxing totally under your hands. You moved on to the next step—a clay mask that would purify his skin. You stood there with the jar in front of you, smiling. "Now the good stuff." He barely even glanced at you. It was as if Shoto had given up altogether, allowing you to do what you wanted. With that, you began to apply the rich, creamy mask to his face, smoothing it out over his skin with delicacy. You paused, glancing at his expression. It was blank, a little serious even, as if he was contemplating something deep. “I’m not sure about this one,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. You laughed softly. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. You’ll look great.” There was silence. Shoto's stoic expression hadn't altered one bit. His calm face was as if he were meditating, completely focused on nothing. As you put the mask on his face, you noticed something amusing: he was so relaxed that he wasn't even tensing a muscle. He didn't even blink.

You'd finished donning the mask and, with minimal commotion, you were back to lying next to him. Shoto remained stretched out, completely still, and his face was covered in a thick layer of clay mask. His hair, of course, was beautifully styled, and the headband you'd initially given him to keep his bangs away from his eyes still sat securely there. You remained there for a couple of minutes, just sitting in silence. The timer on your phone counted down, reminding you that it was almost time to remove the mask, but when you looked at Shoto's face once more, you noticed something: he was sleeping. You blinked a few times, caught off guard. Did he just really fall asleep right here in the middle of this? You leaned forward and gently poked his cheek. "Shoto?" you whispered, but he didn't move. His breathing was light and even, his face smooth as it had been since he first lay down. You couldn't help but smile at how cute he was. Here he was, one of the strongest in your class and now he was on your bed, his face covered in a mask, and completely out cold. "Well, I guess that means I did a good job," you told yourself, your lips curving into a fond smile. You didn't want to wake him, but you couldn't resist taking a selfie either. Taking one last look at his peaceful face, you reached over and grabbed your phone from the bedside table and snapped a quick pic.

You staged him with a peace sign and ensured you got the whole ridiculous look—the clay mask, the cute headband, and most of all, his completely clueless face. You smiled softly at the photo. "Perfect," you sighed, putting down your phone and gazing over at your handiwork. Todoroki Shoto, your boyfriend, now your own personal skincare test subject. You slowly took a towel to remove the mask from his face. The time was up, so you gently wiped away the clay from his skin, making sure that his skin was clean before continuing to clean up the products. Once he was all scrubbed up, you replaced everything on the shelf and gave him one last look. He was still asleep, the cutest little smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. As you rose quietly to put your products back in their place, you couldn't help but be a little dazed. Shoto was always so mysterious all the time, but times like these made him a little less so, a little more of yours. Smiling softly, you turned out the lights, leaving him sleeping peacefully in his ridiculous yet adorable skincare mask.

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