His (Yandere Katsuki Bakugou x Reader)

Chapter 17: Don't Spill Water

Mitsuki Bakugou sat proudly in her chair, briefly making eye contact with Kirishima before her sharp slits looked back at her incapacitated son.

"I was fuckin' great before I received a hospital call. Again," she bit.

(Y/n) felt a grumble in Katsuki's chest, his hands placed weakly on her shoulder as he pushed her away. (Y/n) looked over her shoulder at the woman who spoke to Katsuki in such a way. She looked exactly like him.

"You didn't have to fuckin' come," Katsuki retorted, his voice louder than before, but maybe that was because it was right next to (Y/n)'s ear. Mitsuki rolled her eyes with a scoff.

"As if I'd see my asshole son off without so much as a 'goodbye.' If you had died, I'd have to be here, now wouldn't I?"

"Some fuckin' 'goodbye' this is."

"Oh, c'mon, Katsuki. Be thankful that I'm here for you."

It was Katsuki's turn to roll his eyes.

"Well, if you're gonna be like that, maybe you should've died then."

"Mitsuki!" Masaru, the man who was previously sat silent beside his alternatively loud-mouthed wife, suddenly raised his voice.

Katsuki's eyes widened briefly, but he blinked it away. The air became thick between everybody, and Kirishima stood still in the middle of the room, debating on who to turn to. He was once again placed in an uncomfortable atmosphere, something that happened much too often when he was with Katsuki. He looked to his best friend, seeing how Katsuki decided to give his attention to (Y/n) instead of his parents, ignoring the comment his mother made. Perhaps, that was for the best.

Katsuki's bandaged hand found itself in her scalp, his fingers gently carding through her hair. (Y/n) decided to ignore the other people in the room in favor of looking over Katsuki's various cuts and bruises that littered his exposed skin. Soot dirtied his hair and face, and she knew the first thing he'd want to do when he got home was bathe. It seemed like a tender moment as he gazed down at her with tired, lidded eyes, but if one observed closely, it could come off as if he was treating her as an emotional support animal, looking for her to calm him down. Though, in his defense, that was what their relationship was at the moment, after all. What else was he to do when his own personal service dog was so readily available to him?

His foot was tapping under the hospital sheets, signals going off in (Y/n)'s head telling her that he was growing more and more uncomfortable.

He readjusted in the bed, the IVs being pulled slightly with his movement. Kirishima stepped closer with a small smile, concern for his friend heavy on his mind. Not so much for his injuries, but for... The added elephant in the room.

"Hey, dude," he pulled up a seat, the metal of the chair scraping across the floor. He watched as (Y/n) relished in the rare softness Katsuki was giving her. She made sure to cling to the blankets and not his body as she sat beside his bed, resting her head on his chest, careful to avoid the obvious injuries on his left side. His heartbeat thumped against her ear, reminding her with each pump that he hadn't left her. No. He was still here.

"What happened out there, man?" Kirishima asked. He knew asking upfront was better than skirting around it. Katsuki shook his head.

"Fuck. Big ugly fucker. My left gauntlet backfired, and I didn't even overuse my quirk. Need an upgrade on my equipment again," he explained in his own way, his brow furrowing out of frustration. Kirishima nodded.

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't lose an arm," Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck, briefly glancing over at Mitsuki, who was ignoring the murmur of a scolding she received from her husband and instead watching the conversation in front of her. "I have to get out there now. Midoriya's still out fighting."