from the little nest you've made on the sofa, you listen to the sounds of him slipping out from work mode and settling into rest mode. the heavy thud of his boots next to the shoe cabinet, the clinking of keys hooked onto the wall, the creaking of the worn floorboards as he treads into the house.
it's about the time when you would come prancing out from wherever you were in the house to kiss and hug him, no matter how many times he protested that he was filthy. but today... today you find that even responding was a chore. not that loving katsuki was a chore, but that doing anything was hard.
"hey," katsuki peers over the side of the sofa, eyes narrowed in concern. he reaches a hand over to feel your forehead. "you okay?"
you nod your head slightly before pausing, and then shaking it. it's not that you were not okay, but you weren't okay either. an in between that left you feeling off-kilter, but nothing you knew how to convey in words. blinking slowly, you sink further into your nest of blankets and pillows, lowering your eyes in almost-shame. almost, because you know that katsuki would never judge you, at least not for things like this.
katsuki only hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead before disappearing behind the sofa. you turn your attention back to the television, looking at the screen but never really seeing anything. the sound had been muted when it got too much for you earlier, and whatever show is playing is only something for your vision to be occupied by while your mind settles into a fuzzy numbness. vaguely, you can hear katsuki moving around the house, but you don't linger on that.
what feels like both seconds and hours later, katsuki returns, settling on the floor in front of you, two bowls in hand. he sets them both on the coffee table before turning to you, pulling and tugging you to the floor with him. he tucks blankets back around you securely, picks up one bowl, and feeds you a spoonful of soup before you even realize what's happening.
you let it happen, too tired-but-not-really to fight it. he alternates between feeding you and himself, quietly caring for you. when both bowls have been finished and cleared into the kitchen, katsuki returns to scoop you up, blankets and all, and sets you back in his lap after taking a seat on the sofa.
he gently pets your head, holding you closely – tight enough to slightly ease that numbing tension residing in your body, but loose enough for you to not feel trapped. you lean your head in the crook of his neck, letting his warmth slowly thaw you.
and there you stay, not okay, but not not okay, bundled in katsuki's arms and listening to him breathe. you'll be okay. katsuki will make sure of it.
I've finally finished my @housemdgiftexchange gift for @seegoat! It's a House and Wilson fic where instead of Cuddy being the one to answer the phone when House is performing surgery on his own leg at 3 AM, it's Wilson. Hope you enjoy! >:)
(TW for some described gore; please take care of yourself!)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
love, in silence (but silence speaks volumes) || b. katsuki
falling in love with bakugo katsuki was an easy decision. deciding how to love him is an even easier one.
to katsuki, being a hero comes first and foremost. becoming the best, reaching number one, it was his ultimate goal. love, a relationship, would only distract, delay him from reaching that. so you love him enough for him to feel it, enough for you to be happy, but never enough for him to realize.
it’s easy to love like this: a cold bottle of water waiting on the counter before his morning runs, his favorite, very expensive, spices constantly refilled, and his favorite seat in the common room always reserved for him.
who cares if he’ll never look at you that way? it’s worth all the pining and dreaming you do when he looks a little more content, a little more at home with every little gesture you can give. his happiness at the cost of yours is nothing but a small price to pay.
you resolve to love him in silence, to support him as he hurdles towards a future that only has you in the background. you’re the supporting character to his story, and you’re content with that.
it’s another one of those nights where you love him a little louder, a little brighter than usual. staying back after dinner to help him clean up, locking up the spice cabinet (denki and mina had a horrible habit of stealing spices to do stupid challenges), and following him up to the roof with a little bag of cookies you had baked for him earlier.
the sky is surprisingly clear tonight, the stars twinkling excitedly at you as you settle down next to katsuki, dropping the cookies on his stomach. he lets out a soft grunt, and you hear the rustling of plastic.
“what’s this?” he asks, dangling the bag over your face. “trynna poison me again?”
“that was one time!” you protest indignantly, sitting upright to glare at him. “and for the last time, i didn’t know that tenya put the liniment oil in the vanilla bottle. who does that?”
“four-eyes, evidently.” he sits up with you, moonlight casting his face in an ethereal glow. his hair is almost white, red eyes somehow sharper in the night. “when did you find the time to make this?”
you only shrug and turn away from him, willing the flush that threatens to creep past your neck to fade away. “sometime this afternoon.”
“during your nap time?” katsuki says incredulously.
“wasn’t sleepy,” you shrug again. heat creeps further up your neck, and the night doesn’t feel as cool anymore.
it’s unbearably quiet, the soft sigh of leaves swaying the only break in the silence. then the crinkling of plastic, the loud crunch of chewing. you glue your gaze to the sky all the while, fingers crossed that he likes the cookies.
“i appreciate you.” katsuki says. you look over at him, taken aback at the sudden gratitude. his eyes are bright under the moonlight, and he’s more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him be. the night brings about a certain calmness that seems to ease away the harsh lines on his face, gentling his features that leaves you a different kind of breathless.
“i-” you laugh fondly. “i appreciate you too?”
at the question in your voice, he scowls a little, and you can’t help reaching a hand out to smooth out the frown lines. he leans into your touch, and you flush once more, pulling away. but katsuki latches onto your hand with his calloused one, pressing his cheek into your palm.
“i mean it,” his voice is low, eyes trained on you. “i appreciate you. don’t think i don’t notice what you do for me.”
your heart skips a beat.
“what do you mean?” you ask lightly. his grip tightens and he shifts closer to you.
“don’t play dumb right now,” katsuki scoffs. swallowing hard, you watch as he edges closer and closer to you. “you’re always taking care of me, even though i don’t need-” he shakes his head as you open your mouth to interrupt- “no, listen to what i have to say first.”
“you wake up early on weekends to jog and eat breakfast with me, even though you hate cardio, and you’re not a morning person. whenever its your turn to cook dinner, you always make a separate portion for me, because you know i like the additional spices. and i know you’re the one who refills them, you’re not as slick as you think you are.” he shoots you a fond look. you’re pretty sure your palms are sweaty by now, not that katsuki seems to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care. “you do a lot for me, and i see it.”
“katsuki…” you stare at him, eyes wide. “it’s nothing, i just-”
“don’t say it’s nothing.” he cuts you off. “don’t say it’s nothing, because if it’s truly nothing, then i wouldn’t have fallen for you.”
“you- what?” your heart races, and especially in the coolness of the night, you can feel the heat katsuki radiates. “do you- i- don’t joke about that.”
“i’m not.” he looks at you, really looks at you, and you can see the earnestness in his carmine eyes, feel it in the way he holds you so tenderly. “i’m in love with you, and i’m know you’re in love with me too.”
“don’t-” you begin breathlessly, but katsuki shakes his head.
“i don't want you think i'm saying this because i know you love me or that you do things for me. yes, part of it is because of the things you do for me, but i love you because you're you.” katsuki leans into your space, breaths mingling. you can smell the cookies he just ate, cinnamon and burnt caramel filling your senses. he’s deliciously warm pressed against you like this. “i see you, how you give and give without expecting anything in return. how you stand your ground for your friends. how you care for others without making them feel weak.”
the unspoken ‘me’ presses against your hand, still clutched to his cheek.
“i love you,” he says so quietly, so tenderly it makes your eyes burn. “and i want you. i want to be yours. if you’ll let me.”
a heartbeat. two.
“yes,” you gasp around the lump in your throat. “of course, yes, yes, yes.”
katsuki smiles and it’s like the sun rising – unbearably beautiful, refreshing in the way only beginnings can be, utterly devastating.
“i’m going to kiss you.” he promises, pausing only a hair’s breadth away. giving you a chance to pull away, you realize. silly boy, why would you? it’s a moment you’ve been dreaming about for ages, yearning for with an aching heart, resigned to it ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’. now all those moments spent wishing and dreaming have come true, culminated into a chance you’re most definitely not going to give up.
you close the distance and it’s nothing like you could have ever imagined. he’s sweet, tilting his head slightly to deepen the kiss and- oh.
he kisses you like you’re the first sip of water in the desert, cautiously and greedily all at once. your heart burns, sings, and you drink him in greedily, the lump in your throat giving way to two years of quiet love now demanding to be seen, poured out in sweet, warm kisses.
hearts are like homes, you muse, staring at katsuki fondly. they aren’t meant to be lived in alone, watching others through windows. homes are meant to be shared, where love and laughter coexist with hurt and sadness. and katsuki is here, knocking on your heart. you open the door and welcome him in – it’s a house made for him after all.
i'm sorry but i will never get over the thought of hitoshi just staring at you at night as you sleep, disbelief coating his face as he memorizes your features, lightly tracing over them with calloused fingers. he can't believe he's made it here, an hero with an actual license, surrounded by people who don't look at him in disgust, and most importantly, laying beside you – the person he's loved for what feels like a million years.
you – incandescent, intelligent, liked-by-all. hitoshi – spiteful, pessimistic, feared.
and yet you chose him. you chose him, when you could have had anyone else in the world, someone nicer, someone stronger, someone better. selfishly, hitoshi is glad you chose him, even if he knows you deserve the best the universe has to offer.
he knows he's not that, but he's working towards it. he'll work towards a future where he's deserving of your love, to stand beside you and bring you pride.
but for now, he'll settle for tucking you closer into his chest, holding you gently. your slow, even exhales warm his chest, and there hitoshi falls asleep – tender love soothing his insecurities silent.
it’s a peaceful end to the day, the evening sun streaming in ribbons through your blinds. you’re curled up in bed, surrounded by the delicious warmth of blankets as scruffy, one of your three cats, is nestled in your lap. he purrs softly as one of your hands scratches its head gently, the other holding a book. you’ve been meaning to read it for a while now, and when work let you out early, you all but dived at the opportunity to sit down and relax with it.
so engrossed in your book, you barely register the sound of the door opening, and a warm body dropping onto the bed next to you. you flip the page, free hand instinctively reaching to switch targets from soft fur to soft hair. a soft sigh meets your ears, and you finally look up from your book.
shota lays next to you, face buried in one of the many pillows that litter your bed. he’s still dressed in his hero costume, fresh off a patrol if you recall correctly. he grunts a little before turning his head to look at you balefully. you meet his stare blankly until he nudges his head into your palm. oh. you bite back a grin and resuming petting his head. sometimes shota acts more catlike than human, and you can’t help but wonder if he was one in a past life.
turning back to your book, you continue reading, waiting for shota to speak when he’s ready to. you’ve made three, four, five whole pages before he finally shifts, pushing scruffy out of the way to take his place in your lap. scruffy hisses, disgruntled, before stalking out of the room.
“shota,” you laugh, scratching his head reproachfully. he only grunts and wiggles, pulling and adjusting the both of you until you’re stretched out below him, his head on your chest. shouta looks up at you with tired eyes. “how was your day?”
he tucks his hands under your back, securing himself in place before he replies. you feel, more than hear the rumbling of his words. “wasn’t bad. kids were noisy, but they’re getting better. patrol was quiet.”
“don’t act like you don’t like those kids,” you lean your head against his, tracing circles across his back. he melts further into you, and there’s nothing better than this – home is a pair of arms, a warm body against yours, the rough scratch of a beard against your skin. “you care for them. more than you’d like to admit.”
shota only scoffs and burrows his head deeper into your chest.
“alright, keep your tough guy image. i’ll wait for the day you’re ready to admit it.”
your hands traces its way up to his face, where you pull his hair back, just enough for you to see his drooping eyes, halfway to sleep. “shota, you gotta shower first.”
he groans, shaking his head. “just a bit more. want to lay here longer. missed you.”
you soften, and as much as you’re sure he’ll end up falling asleep before taking a shower, you relent. it isn’t often you get moments like this, not between both your hectic schedules.
bakugo katsuki has a girlfriend, one that he didn’t tell you about. you’re resigned to giving him up, to live with your feelings alone. insert an enthusiastic senior who’s willing to help you find out if katsuki truly likes his girlfriend, or if he harbors any hidden feelings for you.
(aka, you’re an idiot for pining after another idiot, causing misunderstandings after misunderstandings, all because you decided to bring a fake-dating trope to life.)
katsuki hates you so much that he wants to wrap you up in blankets, set you in his lap and hold you tightly in his arms.
he hates you in so many ways – he knows your favorite foods and he cooks it, knowing that you’d hate eating food made by him. he makes it so damn good that you’ll have no choice but to keep coming back for his food, and he knows it makes you furious. he even adds his mom’s homegrown chilis because it adds a little extra that you can’t find elsewhere.
he also knows when your period is, so he can play petty pranks like leaving hot water bottles outside your door, sticking bars of chocolate in your bag. he likes the fear in your eyes, the terrified side-stares you shoot him as he drops little packets of snacks in your lap. he particularly enjoys when you’re half-hidden beneath a blanket from his room he’d left on the couch. sucks to be you, to be using his dirty, unwashed-for-one-week, blanket.
katsuki’s hatred grows and grows, until he’s boiling over with it. it makes him feel hot every time he looks over at you, face flushing red with fury as he watches you smile, listens to your laugh. he wants to grab you by the shoulders and shove you against the wall, to see that pretty face of distress you make when he’s near you.
he hates you so much he wants to press his lips against yours and find out how you taste. he wants to know more, more, more about you so that he can hate you more.
you stare at your laptop screen, slumped on the sofa with dead eyes. it’s almost 3am, and yet here you are, still listening to your group mates argue on what should be presented for your presentation that very morning at 8am. dragging a hand over your face, you sit up and unmute yourself to join the fight once more.
“... i understand what you’d want to put that in,” you bite your lip in frustration, yanking on the ends of your hair. “but we simply don’t have the time to spare for that.”
“then we’ll just cut something out from elsewhere,” she argues back. this only sparks up yet another debate with your other group mates. all you wanted to do was to finish off this damn project so that you could crawl into bed with your boyfriend and sleep. yet all your group mates seem capable of is just arguing.
“why aren’ya in bed,” katsuki yawns, one hand scratching his stomach. you shoot a pointed look at your laptop, eyes rolling as they keep fighting. “tell them to shut up and listen to you.”
“it’s not that easy, kat.” you sigh deeply. having spent the better half of this year with them, you know by now that they took offense easily, and with peer rating holding a nice little 20% of your grades hostage, you were not going to risk pissing them off. not more than they are already, anyway. “go back to bed, i’ll be there when i’m done.”
scowling at your screen as the argument persists, you opt to quietly finish off your part until they can reach an agreement. katsuki presses a soft kiss to your head, and it releases some of the tension in your shoulders. tilting your head back, you watch him walk back into the bedroom, sighing once more as you sit back up.
you crack your fingers, ready to get back to work when the sofa dips beside you, a warm figure curling into your side. katsuki’s arm wraps around your arm, his head coming to rest on shoulder. the scent of his shampoo soothes the dull ache in your head.
“kat? what are you doing?” you ask softly, running a hand through his hair. “go to the room and sleep.”
“you’re not there,” he replies grouchily as he shifts to get into a comfier position. finally satisfied with his spot, he slumps against you, deliciously warm.
“kat, you have patrol at 7am, go sleep in the bed.” you tap lightly on his cheek, barely pulling your finger back in time when he snaps at it. “c’mon, i gotta do work.”
“you can do work with me here.” he persists, and like a child, he closes his eyes, petulantly folding his arms.
shaking your head fondly at him, you lean over to press a kiss to his forehead before returning to your work. as exasperating as your teammates were, having katsuki next to helped to temper your annoyance, soothing you with each soft exhale.
