Kirishima x Reader - "i've got you"
It happens on a day that wasn’t supposed to be bad.
You weren’t supposed to break. Not today. Not in front of anyone.
But life doesn’t care about timing, and your chest feels too tight, your thoughts too loud, and suddenly you’re standing in the hallway outside the dorms with your hands shaking and your breath refusing to come out right.
You tell yourself you’ll get it together. Just a minute. Just a breath.
And then you hear him.
“Hey, Y/N! I was looking for—”
Kirishima stops mid‑sentence.
You don’t even look up, but you feel it — the way the air shifts, the way his voice softens instantly.
“...hey,” he says again, quieter this time. “What’s going on?”
You try to answer. You really do.
But the moment you open your mouth, everything you’ve been holding back crashes into you all at once — the fear, the pressure, the exhaustion, the ache you’ve been pretending wasn’t there.
Your vision blurs.
And before you can stop it, a sob slips out.
Just one.
But it’s enough.
Kirishima is in front of you in a heartbeat.
“Hey, hey— come here,” he murmurs, hands gentle on your shoulders, guiding you into his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
You don’t fight it. You can’t.
The moment he wraps his arms around you, you break completely — shaking, crying, trying to apologize through it.
“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to— I just—”
He shakes his head immediately, pulling you closer, one hand cradling the back of your head.
“Don’t apologize,” he whispers. “You don’t have to be strong right now.”
You cling to him, fingers curling into his shirt, and he holds you like he’s anchoring you to the earth.
His voice is low, steady, warm against your hair.
“I’ve got you,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And he means it. You can feel it in the way he doesn’t rush you. Doesn’t try to fix it. Doesn’t tell you to calm down.
He just stays.
Strong. Solid. Safe.
Your breathing eventually slows, your sobs fading into small, shaky exhales. You’re still pressed against him, face buried in his chest, and he hasn’t loosened his hold even once.
“You okay?” he asks softly — not pushing, just checking.
You nod against him, embarrassed but calmer.
“Sorry,” you whisper again.
He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes warm and impossibly gentle.
“Y/n,” he says, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb, “you never have to apologize for feeling things. Not with me.”
Your chest tightens in a different way this time — softer, warmer.
He smiles, that bright, earnest smile that always feels like sunlight.
“You’re allowed to fall apart,” he says. “And when you do? I’ll be right here to help you put the pieces back.”
You swallow hard.
“Kiri…”
He squeezes your hand.
“I’m here,” he repeats, voice steady as bedrock. “Always.”
And for the first time all day, you believe it.