#aka when it’s obvious op is going thru it lakskdkdkd

[shibaraki]

“Hey. Oi,” that firm, gentle cadence wrapped around you, low but loud enough to be heard over your short panicked breathing. Katsuki carefully pries your hand from your hair, pressing a kiss to your palm as you’re drawn into his space. His backwards walk halts as he hits the edge of the sofa. Trembling, your knees bend at his soft suggestion, and you descend with him and drop into his lap.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs. Warm, he rubs your spine in slow strokes, waiting as you wring yourself of the intense emotions wracking your body until your sobs taper into soft hiccups. You feel frayed at the seams “That’s it baby. There you go”.

“Sorry,” you rasp between stuttered gasps. Your nose wrinkles at the damp patch spreading on his T-shirt and a white hot wave of embarrassment drapes over you. “I got you all wet”.

That fond rumbling laughter slides through you like sake, “Ain’t the first time”.

Snuffling, you readjust your knees either side of his hips and lightly knock your forehead against his jaw. “Dick,” you call him.

Balmy lips press to your temple. He kisses the skin there, again and again as he speaks, “Would that make you feel better?”

Your thoughts lag in registering the innuendo. You are preoccupied by the hand at your hip, the thumb swiping back and forth, the way his knees sway left and right beneath your thighs in a subtle, soothing rocking motion. “Not right now,” you laugh weakly. “I’m a mess”.

“Whatever you want,” Katsuki rests his cheek to your crown, reclines so you can lie on his chest. You tuck under his chin. The words vibrate as he says, “Talk to me”.

You are completely without tension. Flesh made into thread unceremoniously dumped across his front. You’re a labourer sinking into a hot bath. “Bad day. Kept making stupid little mistakes and got yelled at,” the memory swells behind your eyes, squeezing shut as you try not to cry again. “Things kept going wrong. I don’t know. I’m sorry I snapped at you”.

Katsuki hums in acknowledgment. “I get it,” he says. “Made you spiral?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, a little ashamed. Another kiss is tucked gently to your hairline. A brief silence passes.

“Someone once told me that if it feels like the world is out to get you then that’s more reason to be good to yourself,” the pressure behind his fingers tickles at your waist, squeezing to hold your attention. “What’s it? You’re your own first and most important ally?”

“Right…” a besotted smile pulls at your mouth at his attempt to recite your advice. You nuzzle in the crook of his neck. “Whoever said that sounds pretty smart”.

“Damn right. Pretty hot, too”.

You sit up to look at him then, face swollen with dried tears and all, “Katsuki”.

He echoes your name, tilts his head back against the lip of the couch, a playful arch in his brow. There is still some hesitance in his gaze as his eyes rove over your expression. When you cup his cheeks he turns into the touch, kisses the heel of your hand like it is entirely natural to him.

“Thank you,” you swallow as your throat threatens to close up once more. You bend, pressing a kiss of your own to his closed mouth; petal soft and fleeting as it is Katsuki grunts, pleased. “Love you”.

“Gross,” he answers reflexively, belied by his small grin. “Love you too”.