A/N: So I haven't updated this in a while, reason being that I've actually written a ton of kacchako drabbles on my tumblr and I didn't know whether or not to include them here in one go or upload them one by one. Anyway, I decided to just upload them one by one so…yea…it's gonna take a while…Anyway, please remember to read and review, I adore reading all of your lovely comments!

Summary: A collection of kacchako/bakuraka drabbles – Prompt 10: Nurse Me – He knew that she would only smother him with love and useless shit like that in an effort to nurse him back to health and that was the last thing he wanted.

Disclaimer: I don't own Boku no Hero Academia, Horikoshi Kohei does. I also did not create this drabble prompt.

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Prompt 10: Nurse Me

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Bakugou was sick. Really sick.

And not the kind of sick where he could try to walk it off and hope for the best but the kind of sick that made him feel like he had one foot in the grave. He was fighting a battle with this stupid virus and while he'd hate to admit it the sickness definitely had the upper hand so far.

"Wait til I get better," he groans, sinking deeper into his bed covers, "I'll fucking kick this virus' ass."

"Katsuki," he hears Ochako's voice and the sound of his bedroom door opening, "are you talking to yourself?" He doesn't bother to turn around to face her but rather makes an effort to avoid her. He knew that she would only smother him with love and useless shit like that in an effort to nurse him back to health and that was the last thing he wanted.

"I'm not talking to myself," he argues through a fit of coughs, "I'm waging war."

He hears a soft snicker. "I see," and then, "well, do you need anything?"

"No," he grumbles but the part of his brain that had yet to turn into mush thinks that an extra blanket would be nice.

"How about I bring you an extra blanket?" Fuck, she was good. He grumbles and huffs underneath his breath before pulling the covers over his head. "Do whatever you want."

He hears her walk inside the bedroom and rummage through the closet before exclaiming, "I found it!" at what he presumes to be said blanket. He's proven right when he feels the weight of the blanket fall on him and wrap him in its' much needed warmth.

"Anything else?" He hears her inquire and he clenches his teeth. Who did she think he was? He may have been sick but he didn't need to be babied like some two year old.

"No," he stresses again, but the soft grumble in his stomach argues otherwise. He hears her laugh softly in response, "I'll go make food for you, ok?"

"Whatever." Fuck her and her tender love and care.

Some time passes (minutes, hours, he can't really judge time that well when every part of his body feels like it's on fucking fire) before she enters the room again. "I made porridge," Ochako announces as she approaches him with a tray of the steaming hot bowl. She sets the tray on the nightstand and pulls up a chair to sit next to him, "do you need help eating it?"

He manages to let out a curt "tch", his eyes narrowing at the challenge as he pulls himself up to a sitting position. "Don't fucking patronize me," he grumbles, "I can damn well eat by myself. Where are the chopsticks?"

There's an awkward pause.

"Katsuki," she slowly breaks the silence, "you can't…eat porridge with chopsticks…"

He freezes in place, mentally kicking himself at his goof, before flaring up to defend his pride. "I knew that!" He growls and Ochako tries to suppress a grin at his tantrum, "fuck! What are you doing at my house, anyway?!"

"Our house," she corrects him, "Katsuki, we're married."

Oh…right. He knew that too.

"Here," Ochako stands up before crawling onto the bed and sitting next to him. She pats her shoulder in invitation, "rest your head on my shoulder. I'll feed you."

"Fuck you," he curses in his last ditch effort to preserve his pride as his head rolls onto her shoulder.

"I know," she jokes with a grin as she pulls the tray onto her lap, "I'm just so terrible."

But he knew that wasn't the case as she supported him and quietly spooned him porridge until the bowl was finally empty.

"You better not tell anyone about this," he threatens with as much of a growl as he could muster and Ochako nods with a soft laugh. "I won't," and then she pats her lap invitingly after she sets the tray aside, "rest here."

"Don't baby me," he drawls in a feverish stupor but his body has a mind of its own as he rests his head on her lap, "or I'll fucking kick your ass." He can feel exhaustion taking over his body and beckoning him to sleep as his eyelids sluggishly droop shut.

He hears her hum in acceptance, "ok, Katsuki." Then, he feels the warmth of her hand settle on his cheek and he vacantly thinks that it's a pleasant warmth; unlike the heat of the hellish fever wracking through his body.

"Do you feel any better, now?" Worry colors her voice and he wants to tell her not to waste her time worrying; there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that he'd lose to this shitty disease.

And so he pulls up against her and murmurs "yea" as he slowly drifts into the darkness of sleep.

"I feel better."