My Hero Academia One-Shots | Self Insert

🔹🌷jirou | people talk🌷🔹

You were currently thumbing through your journal full of snippets of poetry you scribbled when the door slammed open. Alarmed, you jerked your head up to see Jirou.

"Oh, you're done with lessons!" You grinned, excited that you could finally spend time with her. It was normal for you to spend your free time at her place since yours was practically empty. The motivation for you to decorate your apartment was nonexistent.

Jirou shut the door with her foot and jerked her guitar off its stand rather violently. She was usually very careful with her instruments.

With your journal still open on your lap, you watched her blindly attempt to plug her amp cord into her Stratocaster. A deafening buzz blared from the amp when she turned it on. Jirou cursed under her breath and harshly slammed the cord all the way into the guitar.

You were hesitant to say anything, but tried anyway, "Jirou? Are you alri—"

She strummed the open strings, the amp drowning out your voice at maximum volume.

You pursed your lips. Did she purposely do that?

She tuned her guitar, twisting the high E's peg over, and over, and over again. It already passed its desired pitch, but she continued to turn it. Her bottom lip clamped beneath her upper teeth as she twisted, and twisted, and twisted, and—SNAP.

An ugly sound resonated through her apartment. You slid off her bed to turn the amp off. "Hey are you alright? What's going on?"

"Nothing," Jirou uttered through her teeth while grabbing a small plastic bag that had a spare string inside.

As if you weren't even there, she began to restring the guitar. Her side was facing you, but she was curled over so her hair blocked her face. It felt like a wall between the two of you.

"Can I help somehow?" you offered worriedly.

Jirou shook her head 'no', her face still hidden by her purple hair.

Just as she was about to finish restringing the high E, the thin steel sliced her thumb and blood dripped down her hand. "Fuck!" she hissed.

"Are you okay!" Quickly, you placed the guitar aside and held her wrist. As you inspected the cut, she turned her face away in fuming humiliation.

She sniffled quietly, trying to hide her emotion. You pulled her to the bathroom where you wrapped a gauze pad against the cut with a bandage. Cupping her warm cheek, you turned her face to you.

Tears dripped off her chin, and her face was almost swollen from crying. She attempted to hide her expression in her sleeve, but you swatted her hand away, wiping her cheek with your thumb.

"What's the matter? I wanna help," you assured, looking her in the eyes. She eluded your gaze. It was impossible to stand where she stood right now.

Jirou sniffled again, unwilling to speak in the moment—but you were patient, so patient. You pulled her towards you in a hug, softly stroking her short hair like you would a puppy. It was unknown to you what was making her feel this way, but the only thing you could do for now was console her.

"Someone said..." she mumbled words unintelligible to you as she pressed her wet face into your shoulder.

"What is it?" you whispered softly.

"Someone said that I—" Her voice was breaking. "I wasn't enough for you."

"Jirou! You know that's not true!" You held her head in your hands and looked her in the eyes.

"But I don't." Her words mixed together, and her eyes stared at the floor.

"I love you, so, so much. Please don't believe whatever they said. That's absolute bullshit," you said. "You're amazingly talented, funny, caring, and so, so beautiful. Nobody—and I mean nobody, could make me feel the way you do."

Jirou nodded, her head still hanging down.

You pressed your forehead against hers and exhaled through your nose. "You're perfect to me. I want you to know that, okay?"

This time, she wiped the tears from her face and managed to reply with "ok".

You smiled and kissed her softly on the top of her nose, causing her to just barely chuckle. Hoping to hear more of her laughter, you began to pepper her face with playful kisses. She giggled and made no attempt to push you away until you finished.

"Feeling better?" you asked, guiding her out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, I am," she chuckled.

"Good." You sat back on her bed just where you were before, and she took a seat beside you.

"Who told you that anyways?" you asked, then continued to mutter under your breath, "I wanna talk to them."

"Monoma... I ran into him on my way home from lessons," sighed Jirou.

"Him? That dickhead?" you cursed.

Your girlfriend snorted in laughter, "Yeah, him."

"His ego is so fragile that he has to make other people feel bad to raise his confidence," you scoffed. Jirou laughed again in response.

After a few more minutes of shit talking Monoma, you caught a glimpse of the clock on your girlfriend's nightstand.

"Oh crap, I have an early shift tomorrow," you gulped.

"Yeah, you better go..." said Jirou, scratching the back of her head; albeit, she wished you could stay.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning first thing!" You pecked her on the lips one last time and rushed to the door. "Sweet dreams!"

"Sweet dreams," she exchanged. "Wait, (y/n)! You forgot your—" By the time she noticed, you were already out of sight. "—journal."

The brown leather book was still open on a particular page when she picked it up. Curiously, her eyes scanned the first few handwritten phrases, and her face burned a soft pink.

She closed the book, holding it against her chest and fell back onto her sheets. "God damn it, (y/n)."