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#mha x reader comfort
star1ight0 · 17 days
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Katsuki Bakugou x Reader "Warm Hands". Period comfort!
I died today exams are coming up and my body decided that I must suffer, endometriosis is no joke. PERIOD COMFORT.
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Katsuki was never one for comfort, partly because he never really got it himself so giving it was like standing in cold water. The first time you and Katsuki were together during your period you kept to yourself not wanting to bother him with your mood swings.
He quickly caught on blowing it off as you having an off week. The second time around he was a little more observant noticing how you got more upset over simple work and how you seemed to always have a stomach ache in class.
One Ill fated day you ran out of pads quickly running to Momo giving her a knowing look, she handed you her bag as you ran off. That was only the start of your shitty day. The pills you took to kill your cramps had worn off so now you're suffering in class. Things took a turn for the worse after lunch when whatever the cafeteria food seemed to kill your stomach.
Back in class holding your stomach you left for the bathroom holding your stomach as your lunch betrayed you. After a few minutes of suffering on the bathroom floor, apparently Aizawa felt the need to send Momo to check on you. She helped you up and to recovery girl, not that she could do much but let you rest.
After class Katsuki made his way to the nurses office, seeing you curled in a ball with a bottle of pain killers next to you "The hell happened to you?" He spoke in a rather mean tone but you could still feel the sincerity of his words "Cramps" you said sitting up wrapping your hands around his waist. After a few minutes you grab his hand and get up.
He walks you back to your dorm letting you lean most of your body weight on him most the walk there. Not having any food in your system you felt your body weaken using what little energy you had to lay down. Katsuki watches you curl in a ball a soft yet concerning look still ligers. "I'll make you some soup. Don't die while I'm gone" he says gruffly placing a kiss on your head
When he returns he has a tray with soup, some warm tea and chocolate? You look up at him a bit confused "Why the chocolate?" You say still slightly dazed. "Im not a complete moron.. plus I ran into Momo and she told me" he says the second half is almost incoherent.
You look up at him with a smile holding his rather warm hands to your cold ones. The blissful moment is rudely interrupted by the feeling of a cramp in your lower stomach. Clenching your stomach holding back the tears that had been compiled caused by the many cramps and stress of the day.
A slight groan manages to escape your lips as you feel the side if you bed sink in next to you. Not saying anything you feel your boyfriend pull you towards him. "Where does it hurt" he says avoiding your slightly confused gaze you place his hands on your lower stomach leaning into his touch.
One main up side of Katsuki's quirk was his body radiated more heat then the average person, more so in his hands. "Thank you" you say slowly dozing off.
When you awake you feel your boyfriend's hands still wrapped around you. You walk to the bathroom taking care of yourself. When you come back Katsuki is still asleep so you crawl back on the bed laying in his lap.
The day continues with one similar to the one before.
Sorry this one was a little weird and shorter than I wanted. I'm tired, sick and sleepy but wanted to write this.
Requests are open!
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suguru-getos · 5 months
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| Aftermath | Keigo Takami x f!TherapistReader |
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-> chapter one
summary: hawks who has just lost his quirk in the war & coping with his life as a quirkless man, decides to finally listen to his own self & seek therapy. why did he choose a quirkless therapist? maybe to seek solidarity— or maybe, he hoped you’d not judge him.
warnings: therapy, childhood!trauma, bnha!spoilers, mentions of inner child healing, keigo talks about his childhood, mentions of toxic!parenting, cocky!kei as always.
a/n: don't mind me giving my comfort character and my loml some healing lmaooo <33 i had sm fun writing this istg it made my heart warm. this is a slow burn fic, and the reader is a self-insert on some points because i can get self indulgent tehee!!
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You wandered aimlessly, looking around the suite-like cabin and then down the skyline. Tokyo was always beautiful, even now when winters had just started to greet. There was a foggy blanket of clouds covering the labyrinth of buildings and you could never get over it. With your next client, it was obvious your thoughts were along the lines of… an Angel flying out in the skies keeping everyone safe, now reduced to someone without wings. Still an Angel though, but that's what you think. Maybe he doesn't.
You grimly sighed when your eyes wandered at the clock, there were still 30 minutes to your appointment, normally… someone like you would never get the opportunity to deal with heroes so popular. Hawks was a no show after the war, people thought he had died. People thought he left Japan for good. Though a faint glimmer of hope always made you want to believe he's still around. To your surprise when he was your client, you felt a knot on your stomach churn with anticipation and excitement.
You sat on your velvety chair, the lights dim and comfortable to the modernized architecture of your office. You gulped, opening his file and looking at the passport photograph of him. The scar he got in one of the fights in which a villain named Dabi publicized his kill was there, siren eyes staring into your very soul were there. How could you even try to open up someone who looks so ethereal and so threatening at the same time. You feel just as nervous as your first time, the personality that Hawks carries eating away at you slowly. You shook your head, jerking the thoughts away. Be professional, he is a client and you're doing your job.
If you hadn't been so dazed by your favorite hero and your crush; you were quite a number yourself. Cut-throat, not afraid to walk the talk, stern, fierce, kind and disciplined. People respect you and you command it when they don't. Not afraid to force someone to bend the knee if they indulge in animosity with you. It's just… Hawks was someone you admired oh-so-much! You had his merch and posters after all. Not that he would get to know that, oh no. That'd never happen.
Takami Keigo, 26, Born on December 28th. Blood group B+, MBTI-> ENTP, Schooling and training and everything was blank. Difficult, this would be a difficult case to deal with.
How did you fangirl over him? Well, that's perhaps for another day.
"Excuse me, Ma'am. He's here." Your assistant opened the door with a knock and you felt your stomach sink, biting your lip nervously and clearing your throat to gain composure.
"Hey there doc!" there he was, with his magical grin and long palms raised up to his eye level as he waved. Wearing denims and a loose fitted white T-Shirt. Casual, cute, confident.
"Oh hello Hawks!" You manifested the same energy, greeting him respectfully by standing up and bowing a little. "Jeez, can't get rid of the name yet huh?" He chuckles, though your mind has already starting to process if it was a fake one, the carefully crafted hero chuckle or was he genuinely this chill.
"I don't think so, whether or not you do hero work, you own the name." you responded with a smile, ushering him to take his seat. Oh he manspreads, leaning back and getting comfortable. Makes you wonder if he can see through the cracks of your personality just as you're trying to see in his. Who will unfold who first…
You closed the client book you had, looking into the beautiful goldens of his eyes and making eye contact. "So, I know the first session is usually the most awkward one. People try to get to know their shrink before letting themselves to open up." You glanced, and Hawks looked like he would devour you whole. He looked invested in your words, not in a faking concentration way… in a 'I will listen to what you have to say' way.
"Allow me to share some stuff about myself then, my name is Y/N. I am a therapist good morning. Apart from that, I like to participate in various hobbies like kickboxing, journalling, playing games, spending time with my cat, yada yada. I am an INTJ, I think MBTI has started taking the same wavelength in Japan as Korea huh? Everyone's obsessed with em' I think."
"Well" Hawks clicked his tongue, clearly unamused by your introduction, it was brief and curt. Not a fair deal for someone who will unravel him… then again, you are his therapist, not vice versa.
"I think so too, do you know, a lot of the fans pretend to be INTJs because they tend to be compatible with ENTPs?" He chuckled, rolling his eyes. God he does know everything… there was a whole article about this. "We could do the quiz together if you have your concerns." "Shyeah- no, I don't. Just sharin' yknow?" he winked, noticing how you nervously pressed your legs together. He was wearing Killian's Angel Share, and Bad Boy… one of your favorite scents & the effects were almost affecting you almost at a subconscious level.
"Mkay, gotcha! So, anyways… I don't want to force you to open up, take your time in it. Let's start simple. How are you?" You asked Hawks, and for a moment, the barest of seconds, you could see his eyes turn to a void. "Yeah, good, never been better you know? Vacationing now that I have a sick ton of money with practically nothin' to do. Ain't gonna waste it otherwise by being depressed."
You clicked your tongue, oh he would not open up huh? Well, not that you expected this to be an easy ride either. "Yeah, of course. Money does help… helps everyone. At the end of the day I'm sitting on this chair to be paid a hefty by you." You hum, crossing your legs and getting comfortable too. This would be a fierce mental war already. From the determination of a hero and from a healer who's been sought out by the same hero.
"Then again, it isn't everything."
Oh except if you could tell that to childhood Hawks, it was… it was everything. His eyes pale with the answer a little. "Led a very comfortable life haven't you?" He smirked, giving you a miniscule opening.
"Yeah, luckily." You responded, smiling… "Clearly you haven't."
Hawks stood silent at that, and that was an answer enough.
"You were a rich kid since you started your agency, was this your teens or childhood?" Before Hawks could decipher, the session had already begun.
"Well, I was the viral news subject after they found out I was Thief Takami's son." He raised a brow, and you nodded. "Shitty murderer dad, mum?" You felt bad on being so professional, but you also felt Hawks would push you away if you were too kind. Some people have stopped treating him as a person ever since All for One had taken his quirk away.
"Mum was well, absent, mentally." He responded, and shrugged. "Dad was abusive, used to beat me up as a child and mum was too engrossed in her own shit I suppose. Happy for her that she has a new life with a new husband and new kids." It was amusing how Hawks didn't sound salty about it… it could only mean detachment to the finest. A befitting coping mechanism.
"You didn't have to go through that, I'm guessing if I needed to ever, talk to baby Hawks, I can't have a childhood photograph?" You glanced hopefully. "Nah, not a single childhood photograph. Dad was too paranoid of things and mum didn't care."
"We usually uh, have this exercise you know? That you'd keep a picture of your childhood self at your bathroom mirror and remember who you're talking about whenever you feel self-doubt." You smiled, looking into his eyes with empathy but no pity.
"Well, too bad." He chuckled, embarrassed and definitely not liking this emotion.
"Who cares at the end of the day, it's just the first few years of your life." He responded again balming his own thoughts more so than talking to you.
"Yeah, but every phase of our life is important. When your father abused you, hit you, didn't you feel enraged? Or scared? Or both?" You bit your lip, trying to mentally detach as much as possible.
"I felt nothing. I just wanted to not end up like them. If I was as angry as him, then I would become like him. Even my childhood self knew I'm better than that." There was pride in his eyes when he said so.
"True, yes, however… no expectations from your mum to save you?" Hawks shook his head no, shrugging. "She'd get beaten up too."
You nodded, not writing anything down on the paper just yet.
"Alright, I want you to do something for me." He raised a brow when you said that, "I don't want us to traverse further until you try doing this, mkay?" You grinned, "Imagine someone coming to your home, breaking the door at the moment of your abuse, that someone is you. The big, pro hero, you. Then, I'd like you to hold little Keigo's hand, and take him out. How about that?"
Hawks gave you an expression which was a mixture of 'How absurd' and 'Interesting'.
"Do that for me, and do that as many times and in as many scenarios you feel like you needed to be protected. You needed to be healed from." You coo softly… meanwhile Hawks' brain lagged at you saying 'Little Keigo'. So far he thought you didn't know his name… despite it being telecasted worldwide. No, you just refer to old Keigo as Hawks, but little Keigo isn't Hawks… he's just Keigo.
Was he reading too much into this? Would you soon bridge the gap between little Keigo and Hawks? Would you call him Keigo too?
The alarm clock chimed, time was over. You glanced at it and then back at him. "Well, guess you wouldn't be bored anymore, of me." "Hey, give yourself some credit little Shrink." he winked, smirking, "You're really good at this, can't wait to see you next time." "Don't come until you don't do what I asked." "Sure thing jeez."
With that, he left, and you could almost kill yourself at the way you tried to imagine little Hawks in pain. No, attaching to clients is the biggest NO. Yet, you can't help but feel positive tingles at the thought of him doing that little exercise and telling you about it.
Until next time, Keigo Takami.
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call-me-copycat · 1 month
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Hey! Idk if you still write fics but if you do. Could you please write about Aizawa having a daughter who selfharms, but he didnt knew until one day he entered to her room and find her doing it?.
Its kind of an emergency so i would really apreciate if you wrote it 🩷
Hi! I'm really sorry for the slight delay, I've been bouncing between school during the day and work at night, so even though I saw your ask I couldn't physically write it due to exhaustion (⑉ ᷄ ⌳ ᷅ )ก
That being said, even though it's been a couple days I didn't want to leave you hanging! I got some rest and wrote as much as I could in one sitting!
I really do hope this helps, feel free to message me anytime if you need to vent or such ₍ᐢ‥ᐢ₎ ♡
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What I Owe To You
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*I listened to this on loop while writing*
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➤ Welcome - Introduction and Request Rules (Requests are open + Some info about me)
▶ Characters: Just Aizawa and Reader
▶ Genre: Comfort + Slight Angst
▶ Summary: As the ask states
▶ Word Count: 2925
▶ WARNINGS:
- Self harm
- Depressive thoughts
- Overall lots of angst
Please don't read if any of this makes you uncomfortable!
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The cycle always went on.
At this point you were afraid of what was to happen next. At the same time, the thought was pushed away by the constant emptiness that filled you through. The sticky tar-like hands of this unknown void ravaged your mind, shredding it apart piece by piece.
Leaving you constantly feeling... Hollow. It was difficult to describe it as anything else.
You walked to school everyday and went to your classes. You sat next to your classmates as they animatedly discussed the usual topics of training and what to do after school.
On the weekends, you slept. Sometimes went shopping with your father. Maybe you'd get visited by your Uncle Mic, other times you'd train.
There wasn't much variety. It was suffocating. These feelings had no place to spawn from, as your life wasn't much different from everyone else's. There didn't seem to be a reason, for all you knew. But it was there, no doubt about it. It made itself known.
-
It was a usual Friday night. You had completed all your classes and had the weekend to yourself. It felt pointless, there wasn't much to do. Nor did you have the energy for anything either.
Sitting in your room, you jumped a bit at the unexpected knock on your door. You had been gazing out of your bedroom window for who knew how long, zoning out as far from your mind as you could. You vaguely remembered that a storm was to come soon.
"Dinnertime. Wash up and come to the table when you're ready."
Your father's voice never failed to comfort you, and in a way he was one of the main beacons of light in your dark and foggy world. An unchanging pillar of strength, he held on tight to your cracking mind.
Slowly, tiredly, you made your way out of your room. As you passed by Aizawa, he couldn't help but sigh in response to your barely-there smile at him. You had a habit of doing that, possibly to keep him from worrying.
Truth be told, Aizawa always worried about you. Ever since you were young, he was on guard every second, trying to keep you from falling and scraping your knees, to keeping an eye on you during training.
Though recently, he had noticed some... changes. Your eyes began to grow dull, and their usual energy faded with each passing day. The bags under them grew more prominent, and in turn your hair began to be left more of a mess. Slowly, little things were building up, and he couldn't tell why.
It worried him sick, since the only thing he had in mind for you was for you to be happy and safe. Seeing your condition worsen with each day made him nauseous, as it was the last place he wanted you to be at. He wanted to help you, the best he could.
So that's why before you even sat down to eat, he began to question you.
"Are you feeling okay, [Name?]"
Truth be told, he knew you'd say you were fine. He just needed to soothe his frantic mind.
Looking up at him, you gave him another smile. He couldn't help but grimace at how forced it looked.
"Oh, of course I'm fine." You clenched your jaw at how unenthusiastic you sounded, but it would have to do.
Aizawa only felt uneasy. Too many things added up and gave him a weird taste in his mouth to leave it at that.
"Look at me, [Name]."
The unusual tone of his voice brought you out of your foggy state of mind as you looked up at him fully. Once you met his eyes properly, Aizawa took notice of the... Saddened expression that filled yours. He knew someone was wrong, but it was being covered.
"You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"
He needed to know if you trusted him. He needed to be the one person you trusted in life. This was all or nothing.
Your eyes went wide for a split second as your breath hitched, but you quickly shook it off. His bluntness was what caught you off guard.
"Really, it's nothing Papa." You tried smiling once more, raising a hand out a bit in an attempt to calm him. You knew it was a pitiful attempt, but you didn't have the energy to make it convincing. Alongside that, Aizawa was generally a very tough man to fool. It'd take a lot to actually pass anything through him.
Aizawa's eyes narrowed in response as he saw your reaction to his question. Your body language indicated how uncomfortable you were, and he didn't want to push you too far past your limits.
It was tough, but he decided to give it up in the end and hope you'd come to him whenever you were ready. You always shared everything with him since you were young, and he had gained a large amount of trust over you in turn.
-
Dinner was eaten in silence, and as soon as it was over you bid your father a goodnight before heading off to your room.
Aizawa stayed seated at the kitchen table as he watched you walk off, wondering what was happening to his child. He couldn't bear the thought of you struggling with something alone. He had been there your whole life to help you get through everything you passed by, so why weren't you letting him in now?
After much deliberation, he got up from his spot at the table and made his way to your room. He needed to finish this conversation, and he needed to know what was going on. His mind had been sprawled all over the place for the last few months, as he'd been observant enough to catch on to the smallest changes you went through. Seeing you go into such a decline was like a punch straight through to his heart.
His mind was in such a haze that he threw open your door without second thought, seeing as he normally takes care to knock first. The room was pitch black, but based off of the startled gasp that came from you and the clanging of metal hitting the ground, Aizawa felt his blood freeze in fear.
Quickly flipping on the light, his eyes widened at the site that laid in front of him. You didn't have any time to cover yourself, so Aizawa saw it all.
The bandages laid out.
The blades.
And most importantly, your cuts.
You felt your eyes water at the expression on your father's face, guilt and self-loathing bleeding into your mind.
Aizawa was stuck in shock for a moment. It felt as though all time was warped as he saw what was his worst nightmare laid out in front of him. He was quickly snapped back to reality at the sound of your sobs that echoed throughout the room.
He swiftly made his way towards you from across your room, and in one smooth movement he pulled you into his lap, hugging you tightly to himself.
He had known something was wrong, felt it deep in his heart, but he didn't realize how serious it truly was. His heart ached for you as his grip only grew tighter around you. Aizawa didn't want you to hide these things from him, and in a way, he felt disappointed at your lack of trust towards him. All his disappointment and anger quickly dissipated, leaving him to face his worry and guilt.
"[Name]..."
He could hear his voice tremble, but couldn't care less.
"Why? I-" He was stuck in shock. It was something he never thought he'd run into. Looking down at you, his worry for your well-being grew tenfold, but he gathered the willpower to overcome the sudden surge of emotions he was feeling.
"I want... I need you to promise me you'll never harm yourself again," He looked down at you, cradled in his arms, "I don't think I could ever bear the pain of losing you..."
He knew this was only one step of many. That it doesn't start like this. That it grows. Although he couldn't pinpoint what might've started it, he at least needed to confirm you'd be safe. He just needed this one thing to give his already worn heart a little bit of ease.
You couldn't help but recoil a bit, bringing your arms to hug your torso. As much as you wanted it to be that easy, as much as you wanted to tell your father 'okay!', you knew it wouldn't be done so fast. And in a way, that only worsened your resentment towards yourself.
"I... don't know if I can.." You avoided his gaze as you faced the ground, hating how saddened he was and much rather preferring him to be angry. It'd lessen the guilt a little bit, at least.
He needed something.
"[Name]... I can't make you promise me you'll be able to stop right away. That's foolish to believe." Heaving out a sigh, he put a hand atop your head. "But I just need you to know that I'd be devastated without you. I can truly say from the bottom of my heart, I'd never be able to live a normal life again if you were gone."
Looking up into his eyes, you saw a heaviness that swirled in them. This was coming from a man who had seen it all - numerous deaths in ways he wished he could unsee.
You hadn't realized just how much you meant to him. It never popped up in your head. The all-consuming void had blocked any sensibility or logic from getting to you, and the more you thought about it, the more you realized just how much it would affect your father. He always told you your pain was his to deal with too.
Settling your face in the crook of his neck so you wouldn't have to see the hurt in his eyes anymore, you tried your best to explain everything to him.
"It feels..." Closing your eyes, you tried imagining everything that has built up. "Like I'm running a race, yet getting nowhere. That everything I do has no effect... I'm tired."
You stayed silent as you felt your father put a hand on the back of your head. Aizawa watched as you carefully pieced your words together, and saw the true effect of everything you had been dealing with. His heart ached to relieve you of your pain, his fatherly instincts screaming at him to help save his child.
"[Name]." His grip on you tightened ever so slightly. "I want you to get this through your head, alright? You are not a failure. You're going through a lot, and it's weighing down on you. And I understand you're under a lot of pressure, but-"
Aizawa was cut off when he began to choke up, the thoughts too much for him to bear. As much as he tried to keep his composure for your sake, his walls were beginning to crack.
You heard your father pause and looked up at him, only to be brought into shock at the sight of your normally stoic father tearing up. You felt ashamed for forgetting about his pain, tearing up once more at the guilt that ravaged your mind.
He could see how surprised you were, but he couldn't help it. He always struggled to contain himself when it came to you, especially whenever you were hurt. He hated seeing you in pain.
"Do you have any idea what it would do to me if I lost you? I- ... [Name], if anything happened to you, I don't know what I'd do anymore, I'd-"
He truly couldn't help it. All that Aizawa wanted was for you to be happy. Seeing you in so much agony... seeing your only escape being to harm yourself... He felt that he lost a part of himself.
You cried out loud this time, seeing your father so torn over you. It was heartbreaking, but oddly soothing at the same time. To have someone to deeply care about you that they felt intertwined with you. He cared.
You could feel his arms engulfing you, and you allowed yourself to be swallowed in his hold. It was warm and soothing... A stark contrast to the cold you constantly couldn't escape from.
As he held you, Aizawa couldn't help but be more shocked at himself than anyone. He normally was able to easily retain his composure, so as he felt tears flowing down his face he couldn't help but stiffen. Quickly getting over it, he held you close. The room gradually began to get quieter, the both of your emotions slowing down.
You couldn't help but feel... Secure. It was a stark contrast to the constant void you felt. You felt... Warm.
Yeah, warm.
It was a nice feeling.
Closing your eyes, you finally allowed your body to relax. Aizawa rubbed your back as he gently rocked back and forth.
"I just want you to breath. Don't think about anything else."
Following his word, you kept your eyes closed and settled your breathing. You quickly noticed how much easier it was to think this way. Nothing else was getting in the way, no unwanted thoughts or fears, and you felt safe. Safe and comfortable.
The world around you normally was so chaotic. It seemed everyone was in a rush, always somewhere to be. You couldn't have time to yourself either, constantly getting pushed to and fro. There never seemed to be a place to stop. Nowhere to rest. An unchanging race.
But here you were. The world has stopped, giving you a break you so badly needed. You couldn't describe it, but such a simple hug from your father seemed to dull everything that pained you.
"I understand what it's like."
Aizawa would be lying if he said he was never in your place before. Too many nights he was kept up, worrying about working on himself. Scared of the changing future. Feeling like nothing was changing for him while the world moved on. It was isolating.
Over the years, he got better. The world's rush blurred to background noise, and he learned to appreciate his own speed in life. It was his own life he was living, after all.
Looking down at you, he saw a mirror image of himself.
"Y'know, it's not fair..." You looked up at him as he brushed away a lone tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. "You allow me to laugh with you in your happiest moments... So why do you lock me out when you're at your lowest?"
You had never heard it phrased like that before. You did enjoy having him around whenever you had something good to share. Whenever you were proud, or amazed, or just plain happy. But you understood, he wanted to be a part of it all. Every smile... And every tear.
Your voice couldn't find you, but Aizawa didn't mind. To you, he was always a hand outstretched. A guide to help you through the fog and the dark. It made the terrifying a little less daunting.
"Please talk to me when you can. Tell me whatever you'd like, I just want to know how you're feeling."
You nodded, looking at him directly. Your heart rate had gone down significantly, and you didn't know how much time had passed. If you listened carefully, you could hear the distance rumble of an oncoming storm, thunder booming on the horizon.
There was a pregnant pause before he started once more.
"Tomorrow, we'll need to get your injuries looked over-"
Seeing a look of fear cross your expression, he was quick to calm you.
"I'll be with you. The entire time. You won't have to deal with living life alone. I understand it's frightening to look at, but let me hold some of the weight you own."
You watched as Aizawa stretched out his hand, offering it to you. Looking at it, you thought back to all the times he'd helped you in the past. Every time he's offered his hand out to you.
All the times you were too scared to cross the road when you were little. Every time you felt too suffocated by the number of people surrounding you. Or even when it was just the two of you, silently walking home together in the warm afternoon sun.
He always offered you support, for every little thing life had to throw at you. Aizawa's expression softened when you gently put your hand in his, no hesitation in your movements.
Clasping his fingers over yours, you saw how your hands intertwined. And you realized, he was always there to take some of the pain from you - acting like he was a part of you.
"You get it now, huh?" Looking up into his eyes one more time, you thought you saw a sparkle in them. "Whenever you bring pain to yourself," He squeezed your hand a little tighter, "you're hurting me right alongside with you. I need you in one piece, kid."
You breathed out, everything a little clearer now. There was so much more to do. So much to go through. It was a formidable thought.
But as you looked up into your father's eyes and as you felt his hand in yours, you realized;
You weren't alone.
You really did owe him the world.
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During my lowest moments, Aizawa was always a huge character I relied on to get me through it. I will always write comfort for him to anyone who asks.
I hope you have a lovely day, and I hope things get just a little easier for you, you definitely deserve it (*´艸`)フフフッ♡
➜ Please let me know if I missed any warnings/triggers in the tags or in the opening!
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thehusbandoden · 11 months
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Night Terrors- Shoto Todoroki x Reader
You wake Shoto from a nightmare, and hold him to ease his sobs.
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You awoke to a rustling next to you. As you looked towards it, your heart broke seeing a sweating, whimpering Shoto. As you moved to soothe him, you flinched when you heard him scream.
Quickly moving toward your distressed husband, you shook him awake. "Baby! Baby wake up, it's just a dream." You insist, successfully waking up Shoto. As Shoto jerked awake, he looked at you with wide, tearful eyes.
"Shh, it's okay Baby. I'm going to grab your arm, mkay? I'm not going to hurt you." You soothe, slowly reaching for Shoto's arm. Shoto didn't say anything, he just watched as you gently guided his body onto your own. You successfully laid Shoto onto you, his head resting on your chest.
You didn't pry, if he wanted to tell you about it, he would. After a long moment of silence, you started to hear Shoto sobbing. Stressing out, you cradled his face, bringing it so he would look into your (e/c) eyes.
"Shhh it's okay. I'm here, you're here, and that's all that matters. He can't hurt you anymore." Shoto just shook his head, sending more tears down his beautiful face.
"T-Touya.. I m-miss Touya." Shoto whimpered, his grip tightening. "Oh Honey. I wish I could help you." Shoto just kissed your hand that cradled his face before digging his face into your chest, sobbing.
After a while his sobs died down, and instead you laid there in silence. One of his hands stroking your arm, while your hands ran up and down his back.
"(Y/n).. thank you." "Sho.. I'll never stop worrying about you, so please continue on letting me help you. You are truly the one person I love the most, and it physically hurts to see you in pain."
Shoto slowly got off you before sitting up on the bed, gently grasping at your hands to pull you up with him. "I don't deserve you." Shoto whispered, playing with a strand of you hair. "Of course you do Sho." You scoff, moving into his lap. Shoto just chuckled before kissing you softly.
You sat there for a few minutes, your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and his chin resting on your head. "Let's get back to bed." You yawn, causing Shoto to lay down, taking you with him. "Goodnight my silly prince." You giggle, causing Shoto to smile. "Goodnight my Love."
Masterlist
Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way, minus reblogging.
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miniimight · 7 months
Text
MISSING A DATE . they forget about a big date with you and realize it too late
with deku + bakugou (in their pro-hero era)
one thing about him is that he always tried his absolute best to make time for you amid his busy schedule. you understood that you weren't the only one that demanded his attention due to his work and were okay with that. as long as you still got your 'me-time' with him, where he blocked out the world and focused on you and only you, you couldn't ask for a more perfect relationship.
but this was your last straw. you had forgiven the late nights, the last-minute cancellations—gotten used to being alone in your luxurious apartment, which only reminded you of the one thing you were missing.
you had planned this date for months. a set time where you both blocked off time that night to just be with each other in a word that tried everything to keep you apart.
"remember tonight, baby." you chirped as you kissed him goodbye that morning.
he hummed and gave you a tight hug before leaving.
you felt giddy as you prepared yourself, slipping into your best clothes and fixing yourself in the mirror. you felt as you did on the night of your first date with him. you couldn't be more excited.
then, you waited. and waited. the restaurant happily sat you next to a window, the streetlamps twinkling romantically against the dusky backdrop.
you waited some more. soon your bright posture slouched as your checked your phone. messaged him a couple times, called a few times more. he's probably just running late.
families came and went, and before you knew it, hours had passed.
you burned in embarrassment as you stared at the empty chair across from you, focusing your frustration as if he was sitting there. but even that didn't give you relief. every one of your thoughts and feelings came to the same conclusion—
he hadn't shown up.
IZUKU
you ordered some food to-go. why not get something out of this outing? besides, the food would do good to distract you from the dread swirling in your stomach. you flashed the server a quick smile before dragging your feet out the restaurant.
you threw your bag, coat, and shoes to the ground as you walked into your apartment, uncaring of where they ended up. you needed the couch, a movie, and the food you were carrying.
a few hours later, izuku showed up. you heard the door slide open and the jangle of his keys. his heavy sigh was familiar and it almost made you feel bad for feeling so angry about him missing this date. almost.
you made no move to greet him as he entered the living space, a big grin plastered on his face. "you look pretty."
the compliment was just salt on the wound, ironically. you hummed, remaining laser focused on your show.
he tugged off his white gloves and set them on the table. "what's got you all dressed up tonight, hmm?" he sat next to you, running his hands up and down your arm.
you just handed him one of the takeout boxes. "want some?" you said dryly.
"what's this—? oh, i recognize the name of this restaurant..." he surveyed the box in his hands, his voice becoming quieter as he sunk into his thoughts. "oh."
you got off the couch.
"oh." he repeated, staring at the takeout box incredulously. "baby, don't tell me tonight was—"
"it was." you said simply, walking into the bedroom. you couldn't bear to look at him.
"fuck." you heard him hiss. a light thudding followed as he hurried after you. "y/n, god, i'm so sorry—don't tell me you went there alone—"
"izuku, i don't care anymore." you turned around abruptly, making him skid to a halt before you. his expression read shock. "i don't."
he slumped and inched closer to you. "no, don't say that—"
"you don't give me a reason to care anymore." you laughed wryly though your lips trembled. "i—" your breath hitched and you turned away from him.
his voice sounded watery as he tried to turn your body to face him again. "i'm so sorry, there was a hangout at the agency after work today and... shit, i totally forgot—"
"a fucking party?" you snapped. "you blew off the date you and i planned for months in advance because we never get to spend time together anymore to hang out with the same goddamn people you see every single day?"
he groaned. "i know, i know—"
"you don't know, izuku." your voice quivered. "you don't, okay?" you sobbed.
he was stunned to silence, unsure of how to right something so horribly wrong.
"you don't know what it's like to always be waiting. i'm always waiting for you. you always have something better to do." you sobbed, sitting on the edge of the bed. you really didn't want to have this conversation with him; you knew you'd break down sobbing. you thought it would've been best if he didn't come back home at all.
he knelt beside you, resting his head where your knees hung over the bed. he stared up at your heartbroken face with tears threatening to flow. "there is nothing that deserves my time more than you." he said firmly.
"you say that as if it's true." you said quietly. "but you don't even..." you looked away from him to reign in your emotions.
he frowned deeply. he knew it was all his fault. you reminded him this morning and he still forgot. you had no reason to believe the words coming out of his mouth. that doesn't mean he's going to stop trying to prove them.
he rested his head against your stomach and wrapped his arms around you tightly. "you have every right to hate me right now, y/n. you've been lonely and overlooked and i haven't done anything to make things better."
you refused to look at him.
he tilted his head with hopes of catching your gaze. "y/n, i mean it. there's nothing that deserves my time more than you. anyone else would've left me. you've given me love and understanding with my hero work..." he choked on his words, finally facing the reality of his relationship. "and i've just taken it and left you behind."
you sniffled.
he stood, bending at the waist to kiss your forehead. "i love you. so much. it's time i start proving it, huh?"
your eyes flickered to his, questioning evident on your expression.
he smiled sadly. "japan has many heroes. i'm sure kacchan and todoroki can handle things without me for a while."
you huffed and rolled your eyes. "very funny. you're a hero, izuku, it's in your nature to shoulder everything." you pouted, guilt threatening to inhabit your thoughts.
he shook his head, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "i'm dead serious. the world doesn't need me everyday, you do. and i'll adjust my schedule to suit."
"but..." you groaned. "god, why do i feel guilty now?" you mumbled.
"stop it. you're not keeping me away from anything. this was long overdue. nothing would make me happier," he grinned and kissed you again before tackling you in a hug.
BAKUGOU
you left the restaurant without another word, feeling so sick to the stomach that you couldn't even bear to go home to the empty apartment.
you tried desperately to convince yourself that something important was holding him up. he didn't forget. he just had some life-threatening epic battle that he needed to attend to. he didn't forget.
you crashed at a friend's house for the night, after a very satisfying rant session about your dilemma. they were a great soundboard and didn't try to regulate your emotions. in a lot of cases, just letting your feelings fly free was the best way to cope with a situation out of your hands.
rrrring rrring
you saw the caller ID and was tempted to ignore the call. but your hands moved on their own, accepting it and putting the phone to your ear.
"y/n l/n." bakugou snarled on the other side. "where the fuck are you?"
"a friend's house."
"why?"
you shrugged, hoping your unbothered reaction would be translated across the phone. "wanted to be with someone last night after my boyfriend stood me up."
silence. a very long silence. you heard him cuss under his breath before he replied. "yesterday was our date."
you hummed.
"y/n. come home."
"i'm good here, really."
"i'm serious, come home."
"why? the off-chance of seeing you there?"
his voice grew more desperate. "y/n—" his breath caught in his throat. "i'm home. i'm waiting for you. we can do something today, maybe—"
"katsuki, you can't keep treating me like a test that you can make up whenever you fail the real thing. you're not there when it fucking matters." you snapped, your resolve crumbling as your eyes started to water.
he gave a weighted sigh. "you're right. i've been treating you like shit."
you scoffed.
"but you're always on my mind. every time i see you asleep when you were trying to wait up for me, i—" he inhaled deeply, trying to keep it together. "i'm not the best boyfriend. believe me, i know that. and i'm losing you... i can see that, too."
you waited.
he sniffed. "come home, y/n. please. i—"
you hung up. you tossed your phone aside and stretched. you gently wiped at your cheeks, realizing how many tears streaked them.
after thanking your friend for their hospitality, you decided to go home. you dreaded the conversation that awaited you. uncertainty riddled your thoughts; was this the end?
you opened the door and immediately heard pounding footsteps to meet you. bakugou stood there, looking uncharacteristically stressed and awkward.
you just gave him a passing glance as you slipped off your shoes, hanging your coat up. you walked past him, going to the washroom to refresh yourself with a much needed shower.
as the water ran down your skin, you began to feel guilty. he was a hero. he saved lives. and you were crying over a missed date with him? when his mere presence meant the safety of those around him?
no matter how valid your frustration and sadness was, you couldn't help the creeping guilt from overwriting your feelings.
you stepped out of the shower, then dressed comfortably for a night in. when you opened the bathroom door, he was waiting outside like a puppy.
you sighed. "i'm sorry." you finally said.
his neck snapped to look at you. "why the fuck are you apologizing?"
"you're a hero. i knew what i'd be signing up for when i got into a relationship with you—"
"are you crazy?" he growled, grabbing your cheeks and tilting your face to look at him. he searched your eyes with concern, as if there was something wrong with you. "you don't need to apologize. my being a hero is no excuse for the way i've been treating you."
you frowned. "but—"
"no." he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your head. "you—" he laughed dryly. "i can't believe you thought to apologize to me. you're really crazy."
you opened your mouth to say something, but he cut you off. "i'm so lucky to have you. seriously. i can't live without you and i will do everything to prove that from now on."
you pulled away and looked at him. "you better mean it."
he gave you a lopsided grin. "i do. thanks..." he trailed off.
you cocked your head to the side. "for...?"
he kissed you gently. "staying." he hugged you tightly, his next words barely a whisper, "i'm always gonna be there for you."
amidst a couple of tears, you believed him.
© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3
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sinfulpanda16 · 5 months
Text
"Proud of you."
"What?"
You look up at Bakugou who has concerned written in his eyes. He goes to kiss you; you're taken aback but don't pull away and kiss him back. After a moment he pulls away.
"You'll be ok baby."
He walks away and you just watch him. You don't know how he knew but you really needed to hear that.
a/n: wrote this for those who are stressing in life right now. (me with finals)
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irisintheafterglow · 18 days
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um blah blah blah something about knight!katsuki tearing through panicked crowds to find you slumped behind a knocked-over table, paling when he sees the growing red patch under the hand on your side.
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"shit," is all he manages to force out, and it's all he can say for the next thirty seconds while he tries to figure out how to get you out of here. "no, no, no. you're not fine, dumbass," he snaps when you insist that you're fine. he registers a figure sprinting towards him with an axe and throws a dagger from his belt without even thinking, the assailant falling onto the dirt. "this is all your fault," he mutters as he pulls you from under the table and into a nearby alley.
"i can't believe you're blaming me for my own assassination attempt," you exhale shakily, your breathing too uneven for his liking. "all i wanted was to pick some flowers."
"we could have had the flowers brought to the palace," he argues, raking a nervous hand through his hair. "but you wanted to see them straight from the farmer's market."
"there's not much we can do now that i am bleeding out," you groan, fighting down the bile in your throat when you see how red your hand has become. katsuki's hand gently but firmly grips your wrist, forcing it out of your field of vision.
"don't look at it. just look at me," he commands, scarlet eyes revealing his panic. for the first time in your history together, katsuki looked scared. "just keep looking at me, okay? i'm gonna move you to a safehouse a few blocks away."
"no, please," you plead with him, grabbing his wrist before he can loop his arms under your legs. "it hurts when i move."
"the other option is for you to die, princess, and i'm not letting that happen," he swears. "i shouldn't have ever let this happen to you in the first place."
"it's not your fault," you whisper, your thumb smearing red across his cheekbone.
"isn't it, though?" the expression of pure grief on your knight's face disappears in an instant and, before you can protest, katsuki lifts you from the ground like you weighed nothing at all. you muffle a broken cry into your hand and squeeze your eyes tight against his chest, shaking from the white-hot arc of pain cutting your side. "just stay with me, princess. you're gonna be okay."
"it hurts, kats," you sob quietly and a part of him dies. "it hurts so much."
"i know it does, baby. just stay with me and the pain will go away soon."
katsuki isn't there when you wake up in the palace infirmary, but the news of the pub bloodbath where several members of the criminal underworld were being investigated reached you eventually. your knight was supposed to be leading the investigation, but dragon keeper kirishima revealed that, after the attack in the market, he had taken matters into his own hands.
he had a single thought as he inserted his dripping sword back into its sheath. long live the princess as long as he lived.
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frickingnerd · 20 days
Text
dabi with a s/o who has a healing quirk
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pairing: touya todoroki / dabi x gn!reader
tags: hurt/comfort, painful quirk / quirk with drawbacks, reader is a league of villains member, protective dabi
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you met dabi when you joined the league of villains
you were responsible for patching up the villains after their assaults against the heroes
at first, dabi didn't think much of you
but the two of you started to chat with each other a little each time you were healing him
he realized that you were too nice to be a villain and yet you had decided to stick with them
you could've joined any hero agency you wanted to with your quirk and yet you had landed here – with the villains!
he was intrigued by you and he couldn't help falling for you
dabi started to ask more questions about you, to learn more about your past, trying to understand you better
and it was during all of that that he discovered something about your quirk. something you had been hiding from him and the league of villains
your quirk had always seemed a bit too perfect in his eyes. you could heal any wound and it would barely even leave a scar
but there had been a drawback to your quirk. one that you had been keeping a secret from everyone
whenever you were healing someone, you could feel their pain
all those times when he came back half dead and let you heal his wounds, you could feel his pain as well…
as soon as he realized it, dabi started to feel horrible about it
he had put you through so much pain, without even realizing it! you were suffering all those months with him…
and you were healing the other members as well!
he couldn't even imagine how painful it must've been to be burdened with everyone's pain each day
now that dabi knew about the drawbacks of your quirk, he tried to avoid letting you use it
and he started to scold anyone who depended on your quirk too much
dabi would much rather prefer to watch his comrades suffer than you…
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sprytesukii · 30 days
Text
you know me (better than i know myself)
bakugou katsuki x reader
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katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.
rating: mature, 18+, MDNI
wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)
tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T
an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)
read on ao3
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the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.
“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”
the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.
“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.
he feels like he might die.
“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”
there it is. fuckin’ kaito.
katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.
part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.
of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.
bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.
he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.
and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.
it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.
perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.
katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.
too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.
but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.
that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.
but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.
he’s moving out.
he’ll be gone forever.
subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.
fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.
“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”
the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.
he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.
katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.
it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.
he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.
fuck.
with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.
“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”
the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.
“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“
katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.
he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.
he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.
he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.
it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.
by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.
kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.
it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.
he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.
nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.
he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.
a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.
(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.
he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.
EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><
katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.
EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you
he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)
the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.
a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.
the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.
it’s sustainable until it isn’t.
a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”
it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.
at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.
most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.
the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.
his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.
it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.
izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.
a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.
when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.
he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.
izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.
“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”
a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.
“you’ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.
with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.
now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.
“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.”
katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.
“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.
he never deserved any of it.
with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.
“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).
“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”
maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.
if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.
katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.
izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).
“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.
he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”
the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.
they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.
katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.
the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.
when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.
after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.
that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.
he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.
katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.
the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.
he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.
he posts an ad on craigslist that night.
the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.
“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”
the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.
the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.
katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.
something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.
“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.
the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.
“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”
denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”
he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.
the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.
in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.
katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?
ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested
ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td
ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry
ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back
ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while
ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever
katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.
he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.
katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.
you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.
you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.
you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.
it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.
“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.
you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.
“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.
pretty.
“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”
katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.
“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”
you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.
“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.
“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.
what the fuck?
in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”
your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.
the piece is stunning, but it’s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.
a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.
katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.
suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.
it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.
“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.
your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.
“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”
the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.
“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”
your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.
the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.
you agree.
the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.
your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.
(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.
“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”
you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)
your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.
(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)
your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.
(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.
“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.
“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”
your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)
the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.
he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.
after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.
you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.
but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.
“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.
“fuck no.”
“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”
and that’s that.
you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.
it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.
occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.
it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.
“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.
“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.
“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”
what the fuck.
katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.
he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.
he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.
katsuki would not dream of stopping you.
it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.
(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.
you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.
“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)
katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.
you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.
when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.
katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.
your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.
“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.
the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.
it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.
it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.
he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.
it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.
the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.
fuck.
katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.
he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.
“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”
katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.
(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.
katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.
“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.
denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.
“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)
katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.
kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.
“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.
the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”
his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.
at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.
he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.
“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.
“i was in love with you.”
the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.
“wha- bakugou, what?”
“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”
kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.
“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”
katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”
kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.
“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.
katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.
“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”
katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”
kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”
after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?
he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.
“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.
“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”
katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.
“i think i’m in love with them.”
kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.
“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.
“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.
he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.
kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.
katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.
his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.
he’s home.
you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.
katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.
you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.
he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.
you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.
“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”
katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.
you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.
“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.
“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.
a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”
it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.
the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.
katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.
these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.
he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.
he thinks it’s his.
you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.
katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.
“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”
his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”
and that he does.
katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.
the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.
“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.
he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.
or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.
“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.
you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”
katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”
you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”
“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.
he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.
a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.
“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.
your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.
“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.
“nah.”
“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.
“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.
“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.
he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.
you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.
he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.
you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.
“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?
katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.
your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.
“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.
“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.
“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.
if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.
“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.
he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.
of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.
“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.
he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.
his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.
after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.
you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.
“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.
you know, though. you always do.
“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.
by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.
“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.
speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.
“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.
you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.
“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.
he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.
“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.
he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”
you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.
katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.
“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”
even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.
he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.
the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.
you already know.
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antiwhores · 10 months
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Thinking about Bakugou with reader who genuinely doesn’t like the way she looks. And he literally cannot comprehend it because you’re the most beautiful thing to him ??
Like you’ll look in the mirror and start frowning and he’ll get SO MAD.
“I hate the way I look in this.” You mumbled. You were on the edge of tears after trying on the dress you bought. The model looked so good, guess the dress didn’t come with the body nor the face.
That comment snapped Bakugou out of his trance. He was staring at you with such love in his eyes. He already wanted to take off the dress just to fuck you in it. You looked so good.
He spent the next 20 minutes pouting while yelling at you about how good it looked and how stupid you were that you didn’t like it.
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star1ight0 · 18 days
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Shouta Aizawa x reader Sick/hurt comfort!
Requests are open!
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You were a teacher at UA high and we're introverted, most of the time but once you got to know someone you were actually pretty talkative! It was a student holiday and a teacher work day so, when you didn't show up for work one day naturally your boyfriend was worried. He checked to make sure you hadn't requested leave for the day before leaving for your apartment.
You groan at the sudden knocking at your door sliding off your bed, onto the floor trying to find the strength to get up.
After a few minutes of knocking Aizawa decides to use his spare "emergency" key and walks in only to see you laying on the floor curled in a ball.
"What has my little love bug in a bunch?" He says his voice is slightly softer than usual. As he goes to pick you up from off the floor he feels the rather unhealthy amount of heat coming from your body. You groan once more at the light coming from the still open door. "Door. Light, too bright" you murmer curling into yourself more. He gets up and closes the door making his way back to you kneeling down on the floor. "You know, I told you you'd get sick if you kept overworking yourself." He places a hand on your head, he feels you lean into his touch "sorry, I just - " you were cut off by the feeling of Shouta lifting you bridal style and the movement "No need to apologize, I just wish you'd.. take care of yourself more." He says softly placing you on the bed "What's done is done now let me take care of you" He places you down placing a kiss on your forehead ”Thank you Shouta" You say almost a whisper but when you turn around to find where he had gone, he's behind you holding a glass of water and a small cup with a clear ish liquid "Noooo I don't wanna" You whine refusing the cup and turning away. "Maybe if you just cuddle me I'll feel better" you say pausing to sniffle every other word "I highly doubt that and as UA's certified med trainer I'd assume you would know that love" You whine once again this time clinging onto his waist "Just hold me and I'll be okay Sho-" you are cut off by a whole 4 sneezes in a row before looking up to see Shouta's amused grin and reluctantly taking the medicine "fine you win" you say a pout on your face "good, as long as you take it all I'll cuddle and care for you all day" The day continues with Shouta making you food, and making you take medicine every 4 hours and you laying on his lap watching movies as he runs his hands through your hair.
The next day you wake up feeling a lot better than the day before, as the memories of yesterday come flooding back. You look up to see a peaceful sleeping Shouta. As you get up to you feel Shouta's hands hold onto yours gently pulling you back down "You are not going anywhere today my dear." Still too weak to fight it you lay back down snuggling into his body you feel his hands running through your hair once again relaxing you, "Thanks for taking care of me.." you mumble your head tucked into his chest slowly drifting to sleep to the rhythm of Shouta's heartbeat
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officialabortive · 10 months
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Sometimes, Katsuki cries himself to sleep.
On those nights where his mind can't stop wandering into that tightly sealed off section of thoughts and emotion. The unrelenting pains of his remorse, inferiority, and confusion interlocking. Merging in to a undeniable sense of self hatred, and it burns.
Sometimes in the late hours, your blond roommate comes tapping at your door, head down as to not show his tears. But you know.
Sometimes, he just needs you to curl yourself around him on top of your blankets. Needs the feeling of your fingers repeatedly brushing through his hair, gently scratching at the nape of his neck along the way. To find tranquility in knowing you're right here with him. Being secure in the sensation of your body heat and the presence of your skin against his.
To get a sense of you
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thehusbandoden · 4 months
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Night Terror -Father!Aizawa Shota x Daughter!Reader **Platonic**
Genre: fluff/comfortable \\ wc: 201 \\ posted: 12/18/2023 \\ requested
Summary:
You have a night terror and pee the bed.
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You were jolted away by a gentle hand shaking your my shoulder. Gasping, you sit up to see Aizawa anxiously watching you.
"Are you alright princess?" He murmured, his voice low and comforting.
You continued to pant heavily. Your adoptive father sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Another night terror?" He asked.
You nodded, moving your heavy comforted off of you. That's when you noticed the warm puddle in-between your legs..
You groaned, looking down in embarrassment.
"It's alright, y/n. Don't worry about it." Aizawa soothed, helping you up.
"Why don't you go shower? I'll clean this up." He murmured, kissing your forehead.
"A-are you sure..?"
"Of course. Go on, princess."
You nodded, grabbing some clothes out of your dresser. Before you left the room Aizawa called you back.
"Oh, and y/n? Remember.. you're safe with me."
"Thanks dad.." you smile, heading into the bathroom.
After a quick shower you nervously looked for your adoptive father.
You found him in the kitchen, making you a snack.
"Hey sweetheart. How you feeling?" Aizawa smiled fondly, hugging you sweetly.
"Much better." You sigh, hugging him back.
"I'm always here if you want to talk about it."
"Thanks dad.. I'll keep that in mind."
~~~~~
Aizawa's masterlist | Masterlist | Navigation | You can tip me here <3
Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <33
~~~~~
Do not copy, repost, nor plagiarize my work. Ask before you translate or use my work in any way -minus reblogging.
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takami-takami · 2 months
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Keigo gets snuggly at night. Call it nesting, comforting his inner child, whatever— fuck if he cares, he just needs at least two comforters for the both of you to nestle in; one puffed like marshmallows and cool to the touch, another thin, velvet, and warm against your shared, bare skin.
He needs as many pillows as he can stack like impenetrable barriers around the edges of the bed, regardless of whether or not you will inevitably kick them to the floor as you sleep. He'll pick up after you. He always does. You pick up his cans of coffee in the mornings, too, before you kiss him off to work.
Keigo is a morning person, which means nights are spent in anxious anticipation of that first slow blink of your lashes awake. Part of him wants to see it, but he probably never will. After all, the need to feel your body shifting to part from dreaming beneath him as he kisses the bags under your eyes outweighs that curiosity. He starts to forget what it feels like to take for granted the rising sun.
His home is sacred to him, his bed akin to a squishy heart locked behind the ribcage of his bedroom doors. You have the spare key. Keigo doesn't remember when he gave it to you, but that hardly matters to him. He's sure you'll keep it safe.
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thecowboykatsuki-anon · 4 months
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Touya hadn’t meant to miss the call, hadn’t meant to make you listen to his voicemail box one, two, three times.
Hadn’t meant to make you cry to a silent line.
But when he finally has time to click that voicemail, your sobs crackling through the speaker, he doesn’t let it finish after that first broken I need you.
It doesn’t matter that you haven’t talked in 6 months, doesn’t matter that he’s celebrating a great ride, doesn’t matter that he’s had a couple beers.
What matters is that you’re not picking up, one, two, three calls later.
Doesn’t matter that he’s tearing down the dark road way faster than he should, phone on speaker on his dash and fist beating the steering wheel so hard he’s sure it’ll bruise.
What matters is the one, two, three, four voicemails he leaves telling you he’ll be there in four, three, two minutes.
What matters is the one, two minutes he spends banging on your door before remembering he never returned your key, leaving it open when he tears it wide and rushes in.
The two, three, four leaps it takes to get up your stairs hardly register to him.
All that matters is the sight of you, just you, lying on the bathroom floor, crying so hard that it shakes your whole body.
Because it doesn’t matter if it takes one, two, three, four hours… he’ll be there until it stops.
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zanarkandskylines · 2 months
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bf!Bakugo comforts you (fem!reader) while you're in a vulnerable state. 『 ♡ - k.bakugo x fem!reader 』 tw/cw: 18+ themes | depression/intrusive thoughts, sex (but not smutty) ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — This thought just soared into my head and I needed the comfort because damn, it sucks when this happens. -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 
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There it was.
That familiar numbing feeling.
It followed you wherever you went, waiting idly in the shadows of your mind for the moment to strike. You could control it from time to time, sure, but that didn't mean it wasn't able to act against your will in the blink of an eye.
You shouldn't be spacing out right now, lost in the bottomless abyss of empty thoughts. You need to be present and not watching yourself from the outside - the intrusive droning voice in your head repeating negative commentary on an endless loop as a distraction.
It's as if you can feel the light drain from your eyes like water running down a drain. The chemical reaction in your body fights to keep you engaged in life, fighting an endless war with your inner demons. It was exhausting, especially when you didn’t have a reason to pin the blame on.
A gentle touch to your cheek drags you back into your body, a faint gleam returning to your dulled irises.
"Y'okay, peach?" Katsuki asks, eyes aflame with affection and sweat glistening through the blonde strands on his forehead.
The embarrassment that floods your body is fierce and settles in your nerves. You bite your lip, desperately holding back the tears that threaten to stain your cheeks.
His body was sweltering hot against you, chest heaving in tandem with your own. Katsuki slows his pace to a pause, gazing down upon the flush spreading over your body.
“Hey, ‘s okay, baby,” he whispers, leaning into the crook of your neck to plant multiple soft kisses to your skin.
“Do you want to stop? We can stop.”
“N-no, sorry,” you say meekly. “I’m okay.”
You weren’t, and Katsuki knew that. He can tell by your mannerisms and the touch of your fingers aimlessly roaming his back. You’d been a space case since coming home from work earlier in the evening. He was shocked when you asked for sex in the first place, but obliged after your insistence that you were okay.
“Really, it’s not a problem if you wanna stop.”
“Please don’t. I need you,” is all you can manage to say before choking back a sob. You needed him to fill you with a warmth only he could offer, stoke the fire inside of you to bring light to the darkness fogging your brain.
Katsuki cradles your cheek in his palm for a second time, thumbing away a stray tear as it falls from the corner of your eye. It pains him to see you struggle with these things because he didn’t quite understand it, but he did his damndest to give you what he could to help. Whatever you needed, he was more than willing to give if it meant getting to see your radiant smile.
“Okay, just keep your eyes on me, baby. I’ve got ya.”
Katsuki’s voice makes the butterflies in your stomach return, violently fluttering at his words of encouragement. You follow his praise, focusing on all of the tender devotion he’s serving to you - the sensual tempo of his thrusts, how he lowers his body to meld the two of you together as one, the delicate ways he touches your skin. All of it, and all of him, release the demons you clung to moments prior.
Your soft sobs evolving into hushed gasps fuel his desire, assuring him that you are no longer occupied by the looming clouds swirling in your head.
“I love you,” Katsuki sighs into your ear, breathless as his rhythm quickens. “So goddamn much.”
Your hands are clamoring to his hair, grasping at the roots as you squirm beneath his hold. He swoops down to steal your lips, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip to beg you to invite him into your mouth. And you do, letting him consume you in a passionate kiss as you feel your body tense, the fire in your core ready to explode. Your moans entangle in each other's mouths as you simultaneously reach your limit together, orgasms wracking your bodies collectively.
Katsuki breaks your kiss, panting with swollen lips as he pushes his hand through your bangs, separating the wisps of hair to place a kiss to your forehead. He kisses your lips again briefly before nuzzling into your neck.
"I love you, too. Thank you," you say, monotonously dragging your nails on his scalp in your blissful state. He shivers at the sensation, growing sleepier by the minute.
"Sweets, I gotta clean up before we sleep," he protests, struggling to gather enough energy to do so.
You smile into his hair. "Aw Kats, just one more minute, please."
Katsuki doesn't budge, accepting his fate as his eyes flutter closed.
"Fine, just because y'asked nicely."
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