Picture Me Better
BKDK ; Mature ; Hurt/Comfort ; 1.9K
Following a nightmare, Izuku seeks comfort in Katsuki who uses a hands-on approach to remind Izuku of all the things that make him a hero, a good person, his.
“Idiot,” there was no bite to his words, “How could you of all people be better? You self-sacrificing, overachieving—D’you hit your head on patrol today? Forget you’re number-fucking-one? Can’t really get any better than that. Aren’t there for nothing either, you dumbass. You’re so… kind. To everyone. Pisses me off. Makes me want to eat you alive.”
He flexed his hand and pressed more into Izuku’s side. Comforting grasp turning into something more.
“Then do it.”
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A startled gasp awoke Izuku. The shock of cold air rushing into his lungs dizzying, sending him off balance as he pitched himself upward. His hands clutched at the edge of the bed, willing himself to stay steady as he stared at what he knew should be the floor. It was too dark to see. It was surrounding him. Entrapping him. It was his vision tunneling in on the collapsing structure and Shouto—
He was sweating. Knew from the feeling of it running down his face and his growing discomfort. Might have heard it hitting the floorboards if not for his ragged, heavy breaths demanding the space. The churning in his stomach had him leaning a little further over the ledge. If he lost his grip, if he just let go, he could go tumbling. Like Iida—He closed his eyes from the horror. A futile attempt. This would follow him wherever he turned. Sink its claws into him for eternity.
Fingers began to unfurl.
Knuckles brushed against the back of his neck before pulling away, taking the collar of his shirt with them. It peeled from him like a second skin, and for a moment Izuku was struck with panic that the oversized comfort was being taken from him. The thought was gone with the sudden shift in his position. It was gentle, smooth. Careful. An absence of abruptness as he was lifted upright. A hand moved back to hold behind his head.
“Gonna fall, nerd. Gotta tell me what’s up.”
It was groggy and rough. Would have been every bit as calming as it always had been if not for the dread racing through Izuku’s shaking form.
Izuku couldn’t look. Not to Katsuki. Not to the ceiling. Not up. Not to where he could see Mina careening toward the already crumbled concrete, broken into jagged pieces that could, would, did pierce through. Already rapid breaths picked up and skipped over each other amidst the realization that he truly couldn’t see. Couldn’t pinpoint everyone’s locations. Couldn’t save them with his body feeling so heavy and weak. Air stuck in his throat, and he would have given anything to dislodge it. Exhale it into Katsuki to provide crushed lungs one last breath to aid the word forming on his lips.
“Izuku.”
Fingers tilted his chin up and his eyes opened with rapid blinks at the call of his name. Soft light illuminated Katsuki from behind, a whisper of a glow tracing his figure. It brought a sliver of relief to Izuku, knowing it was all over for at least tonight.
Fingers threading through his curls and scratching gently seemed to relax every rigid muscle. It sent him collapsing into Katsuki’s chest. Katsuki quickly wrapped his free arm around Izuku’s middle, his other hand never leaving its grounding position.
Izuku felt the vibrations in Katsuki’s chest, breath fanning across the top of his head, as a quiet go ahead was spoken.
And the dam broke.
He broke.
Izuku clung, flung arms around trimmed waist, as the first cry escaped. A pathetic whimper more than anything. An embarrassing cluster of them amounting and piling upon each other as they wracked through him. He wanted to reach out, cram each of them back in and swallow them down alongside his pride; incoherent recollections of the sights his mind had provided left no room to do so as they began to pour out. Ramblings of Izuku’s predicted failures—the catalyst of others’ demises.
Eventually, the shaking subsided. Words fizzled out. Izuku allowed his mind to focus on the gentle sway Katsuki had them moving in. The way he was held a little tighter with each passing minute. The feeling of Katsuki’s pinky shifting to tuck the tag back into his stolen shirt.
With a sniffle, Izuku righted himself to face Katsuki. He opened his mouth to apologize but promptly shut it. It wasn’t what Katsuki wanted to hear. He knew that. They’d spent previous nights like this. Each ended with Izuku’s cheeks squished in Katsuki’s grasp as he was told apologies were never needed for his emotions. His anxieties. Izuku had always known Katsuki was a man of action and solutions, even if it had taken him a while to become accustomed.
“I’m so tired,” Izuku attempted to clear the scratch from his throat, swallowing to soothe it, “I hate this constant reminder that I could be… that I have to be better.”
The two stared at each other momentarily. Izuku searching for the annoyance and exhaustion that he knew deep down would never be there. Katsuki giving time for more to be spoken if need be.
“Idiot,” there was no bite to his words, “How could you of all people be better? You self-sacrificing, overachieving—D’you hit your head on patrol today? Forget you’re number-fucking-one? Can’t really get any better than that. Aren’t there for nothing either, you dumbass. You’re so… kind. To everyone. Pisses me off. Makes me want to eat you alive.”
He flexed his hand and pressed more into Izuku’s side. Comforting grasp turning into something more.
“Then do it.” The words were nearly lost in Izuku’s rush to clamber fully into Katsuki’s lap. His legs trapped Katsuki’s between them. Scarred fingers dug into broad shoulders. “Please, I want to forget. All of it. Just for tonight.”
A slight tug at his nape forced a hum out of Izuku. Katsuki brushed through Izuku’s hair as he moved to drag a thumb across Izuku’s still trembling bottom lip, tongue peeking out to chase the movement.
“No.”
Copper. Slight and sharp as Izuku brought his tongue back in and bit down. His mind began to spiral, imagining diving off the bed quick enough for Katsuki not to catch him this time.
Senseless.
Moronic.
“That’s not what you need,” Katsuki said.
Izuku was flipped onto his back before there was a chance for the confusion to clear, to take in that he hadn’t made a fool of himself. He blinked up at Katsuki’s looming, predatory smirk. Tried to fight the way his attention split between the steadily increasing heat on his hip and the pressure holding his wrists to the pillow above him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to return Katsuki’s stare. The intensity of it was too much. As Katsuki tilted his head, it change to pensive, bordering confused. He seemed to think aloud, “Really have no fucking clue, do you?”
Anticipation crept up Izuku’s spine, realizing the distance between them was shrinking. He let his head tip backward, eyes falling closed.
The soft press to his lips never came. Instead, it found its way a short distance higher. Made itself known as it traced the pattern of scars adorning his wrists to his fingertips.
“Able to hold up buildings like it’s nothing. Steady. Dependable.” Kisses became punctuation.
He had already latched onto the warmth pressed against him enough that he couldn’t help the whine that escaped his lips when it disappeared. Katsuki gave a sympathetic shush and dived back to Izuku’s neck. Sharp teeth pressed against slender expanse of exposed skin in a promise for more to come.
The hand at Izuku’s wrists moved down his arm, leaving prickling skin in their wake. Fingers left feather-light trails as they followed more scars lower and lower, reaching Izuku’s shoulder. The touches never become overwhelming. They had confidence in their movements, knowing nothing more was needed to have Izuku relax deeper into the sheets. Slower this time, they retraced their steps back up. Katsuki released his own groan as if just running his fingers along the muscles, hidden beneath sun-kissed skin, was enough for him. The sound pooled down Izuku’s throat like honey and aided the heat zipping through him, guiding it to settle in his stomach.
“God, does Sparks even realize how lucky he is every time you carry his sorry, zapped-out ass to safety? Should tear him apart—everyone for not worshiping, adoring—” Katsuki cut himself off as he sucked bruises into Izuku’s throat. Trailed them lower to decorate the sliver of collarbone on display. A final nip at the sensitive skin left only once Katsuki seemed pleased.
“But you know I never cared for sharing.”
Izuku thought on how lucky he was in moments like this. To be loved so wholly. To have someone who could put him back together by breaking him into pieces. To have Kacchan. Kacchan. Kacchan.
“Just like that. Beggin’ so pretty for me.”
Katsuki lifted Izuku’s shirt as he began to greedily take in the feeling of soft skin before easily maneuvering Izuku to remove it fully. Izuku’s thoughts started to slip, languidly drifting away his ability to speak anything but little noises. All for Kacchan.
Desperate for an anchor, his fingers grasping blond spikes. Curling and tightening as Katsuki’s mouth continued on its path lower and lower, teeth, lips, and tongue leaving traces of their devotion. Back arching, Izuku relished in the way the praise flooded his senses and flowed through his veins.
Protective.
Clever.
Reckless.
Courageous. Special. Darling.
It was too much. Not enough. A haze engulfed him as Katsuki kissed up his thighs.
“Adaptable. Worked harder than all those idiots to make sure you could still fight.” A bite. Sharp. Claiming. It had Izuku’s legs falling open a little more. “And thank fuck for that.”
He was unable to keep a grasp on things when lips moved just a tad higher. Surrounded Izuku with heat—wet and gentle and tight. A distraction from the eventual glide of fingers deep where Izuku needed. Pressing deeper at his command—more so a plea with the desperation on his tongue. Pulled more sounds that went unheard from the roar of blood in his ears.
Time passed in sensations.
Eyes glazed over with the lull of contentment and relief.
Cold air hitting saliva-sticky skin. A shiver rattling through him. Lips pressed quickly to his cheek, the corner of his mouth. Izuku whined against Katsuki’s mouth. Easy slide of lips and tongue against teeth. The tender cradling of Izuku’s neck juxtaposed the new pressure between his thighs.
Heavy weight pressing in, driving forward. Deeper.
Eagerness and longing to hold onto this moment for weeks, keep the feeling of being complete. Full.
Wet lashes.
“Fuck, so pretty. Crybaby,” Katsuki groaned as he swiped a thumb across Izuku’s cheek. “My crybaby.”
Izuku wanted to nod, agree. His sluggish mind only managed a slow blink, a shallow sigh.
“Say it.” A demand.
“Crybaby.” A sigh.
“Whose?” Triumphant.
“Kacchan’s.” Blissful.
“And I only have the best. Don’t I, baby?”
Rapid clarity resurfaced Izuku as he snapped. Mouth falling open in a silent cry. Finally managing to hold the red gaze until Katsuki nearly collapsed forward. Izuku tightened his legs around Katsuki’s waist, and allowed himself to bask in the final bite at his shoulder, muffled encouragements, rumbled groans.
Panting breaths filled the new, comfortable silence. An ease into the afterglow.
Izuku kept himself wrapped around Katsuki while the promise of real sleep enticed him to start the descent. The silent request for Katsuki to stay was only met with gentle disconnection, a press to his temple, and a murmur to stay put.
And he did.
Willingly, gratefully.
Trusting Katsuki to keep the control he’d had. To keep taking care of him. To return to him. He knew Katsuki’s meticulous and practiced routine by touch and sound alone. Draining faucet, tender hands carefully rolling Izuku to his side, clicking of the lamp’s switch. Blanket tugged over the both of them—its safety incomparable to the arm and leg tossed over him. Enough warmth to pull Izuku fully under.
Enough to remind him that he would never truly fail.
Never fall.
Not with Katsuki with him.