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A door slammed shut in the apartment, but you could barely hear it, arms wrapped around yourself as you sat in the porcelain tub with the lights turned off, still in the same pajamas he left you in that morning, feeling the ceramic stick to the skin on your legs. You felt the dry tears on your face, but didn’t have the energy to move, or even lift your eyes as you heard Bakugo stomp around the apartment looking for you. You just lay there unmoving, unfeeling. You just didn’t care.
“Where are you (y/n)?! Damn it doesn’t look like she went out her stuffs still here, (Y/N)?!” You heard him getting closer, hearing his heavy booted steps as he went through your bedroom until you heard his hands open the bathroom door.
Light poured into the room, softly illuminating Bakugo’s shadow but you still didn’t find the energy to move, you found yourself devoid of anything other than sadness and emptiness. You heard the light flick on and closed your eyes to the brightness, and tucked your head deeper into the tub tucking it against the curve of the bathtub.
“What the hell are you doing in here dumbass??” You heard him say with relief, you were still here, but worry tinged his tone.
You didn’t answer, only sinking lower into the tub trying to hide in the darkness.
You felt him go quiet and still for a moment, and then he left, leaving the bathroom door open.
‘Makes sense’ You thought, ‘How the hell would you deal with this anyways, I don’t even have the energy to comfort him and tell him I'm fine.’
For some reason the day had sunken into this feeling. It had started off relatively well, you made breakfast for the both of you, strawberries and croissants with coffee. Bakugo left you with a mumbly kiss and a tight hug, angrily saying he wished he could stay longer with you, and that he would be back as soon as he could, you had waved him goodbye with a smile and even blew a kiss. Even after he left you had been able to do the dishes, laundry and tidied up, but then you had sat down to watch TV, just for a moment.
Then somewhere between 11am and whatever time it was now, you had ended up crying in the bathtub. Holding onto yourself tightly, trying to hold yourself together as your brain felt as if it was tearing itself apart from the inside out. You didn’t even know when you’d stopped crying, you didn’t even know how long you’d been in there.
You just felt numb.
A shadow fell over you, and you realised that Bakugo had come back, and was kneeling next to the tub, stroking your hair.
“Alright come on, up and out baby girl, this place isn’t fit for my princess”. His voice soothing in a way that was just for you and no one else, but your brain twisted the comfort. Instead you felt weak and stupid for needing to be comforted, for craving comfort. You wanted to cry again.
You stood slowly up, keeping your head down to hide your face and began to step out of the tub, but as you stood on the bath mat he stopped you and pulled you down to sit on the side of the bath, still kneeling in front of you. He took hold of your hands and looked up at you. You still kept your head down, trying to hide your face. Your hands were shaking, and you couldn’t help the struggling spasms of squeezing his hands too hard. He lifted a hand to move your hair, but you moved your head to the side. Squeezing his hand tightly again, but this time in an effort to say ‘No, I’m fine.’
But this was still Bakugo, and he wouldn’t let you hide from him. Instead he surprised you by pushing you hair back, gripping the back of your head, and kissing you deeply as he raised on his knees. He moved one hand to your back to press you as close to him as possible, kissing the breath out of you. When he parted from you your eyes were full of tears, and you couldn’t help it anymore.
Despite the feeling in your chest, and the torrent inside your brain it was all the permission you needed, and you threw your arms around him, sobbing desperately into his shoulder, sinking to your knees and clutching to him for dear life. He grasped you tighter, and pressed every part of himself he could against you, letting you know that he was undeniably here. After a few minutes you felt boneless, and began to hiccup, feeling limp against him. He then gently picked you up, bringing you to the living room and you found yourself lacking the energy to protest.
He set you down on the beat up comfy sofa, where he’d set up blankets and pillows and a new set of pjs with moons and stars on them. You sat limply as he told you to raise your arms, you followed his instructions without protest as he changed your sweaty pjs out for the new clean pair, and wrapped the black soft blanket around you. He gently wiped your face with makeup wipes with a soft neutral expression. When he was done, he said ‘Wait here.’ Then left to go to the bedroom.
You weren’t sure how to react at this point, other than feeling warmth in your chest thawing out the ice you felt inside all day. He came back in his own pajamas, black sweatpants and a torn tank top saying ‘King murder explosion’ with a little angry bomb on it, you’d bought it him as a joke one day, but to your surprise, it was something he wore every night, and only shouted when you once threatened to throw it away after it got singed during an, eventful evening.
He sat next to you on the sofa and you saw he had brought your hairbrush with him, ‘Turn around.’
You did as he said, and he set his legs either side of you, gently beginning to brush your hair out of all the knots. You hadn’t realised how tangled it had become. He stroked his fingers through your hair as he brushed, and feeling his fingers rub against your scalp soothingly helped you feel grounded. You were beginning to feel better, and you felt your shoulders relax as you released a shaky breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding. When he finished brushing your hair, he gently pulled you against his chest and hugged you with his head in your shoulder for a few minutes. You felt him breathe steadily on your neck, and for a while neither of you said anything. You reached up and hugged his arms back, leaning into him and gently pressing a kiss to his cheek.
‘Thank you.’ you whispered, voice croaky from not being used.
He simply squeezed you tighter, kissed your shoulder, and then reached over to the table, turning on the tv and passing you a large tub of oreo ice-cream with two spoons.
‘Wanna watch Jack-ass princess?’ He asked with a cheeky grin.
You actually laughed.
‘God yes please’.