Katsuki Bakugou~ Fifi's

Broken record

The two of you were out long before anyone came storming in. That sleaze of a man had been left there unconscious on the stage, hands tied behind him but whatever Katsuki had torn off the curtain. One hit was all it took and your boyfriend was ecstatic from it. He felt strong, he felt prideful. He felt useful. He felt like he had actually done something right in his life, like he had earned his title. Yet every time he glanced over at you sitting so silently in your seat he kept shouting at himself to do more. He needed to do better, to be more useful, more  helpful. He hadn't done enough to earn his title as boyfriend. You were so resigned. It worried him.

"I didn't know you worked for Hawks," your first sentence. It was too casual, too normal. The two of you were already half-way home you had finally decided to speak and this was what you choose to say.

He adjusted his hold on the steering wheel, swallowing down whatever emotions he felt. "Didn't know you knew Hawks."

"I've met him, he offered me a job as-"

"Don't take it," the words couldn't have left his mouth faster.

"Why not? That was part of the reason why I quite my job at the burlesque, I was gonna leave there and work for him."

"Don't."

"Why," don't say it like that.

"Because I can't promise you that he won't double cross you."

"You don't have to keep me safe from everything."

"But I want to."

"Katsuki that's nearly impossible."

"I can still try."

"You'll burn yourself out."

He slammed on the breaks when you came by a red light. The car hummed in the intersection between the empty streets, it was too late at night for anyone to be out and Katsuki had taken a different route home.

Burn. He'll burn himself out.

"Are your hands ok?"

His knuckles were swelling from when he had punched the man, his palms were sweaty and the skin there was a pinkish-red. "I'm fine," he grumbled. Though his knuckles throbbed he had yet to feel the burn on his hand, this only being because his mind was so focused on you. His pain was being overwritten by his swirling thoughts, they were the same as that thick smoke coming from him earlier. It pushed all bodily emotions down to the very hardest places to find. Later it would wash up on the shore, it might even hit him like a tsunami. For now though he just kept on with the storm clouds.

His hand moved slightly to once again adjust how he fisted the wheel, delicate skin brushing against the leather. He winced, doing his best to mask it. "You've hurt yourself," the car lurched forward and your back slammed into the seat. "Let me take care of you."

That was it. His hands were starting to sizzle again, smoke filing the car, he had no choice but to pull over before he blew up the damn wheel. "Dammit!" He shouted into the sky slamming the car door so roughly the whole vehicle shook. This was frustrating, he couldn't let his emotions pass a certain point or they'd blow right out of him. You bounced around from door to door, rapidly turning the handle to roll down the windows and let out the smoke. Katsuki punched a dent into his car, right next to the one he had left not so long ago. He went to do it again but hesitated when his hands and the metal made a dangerous noise. Best not to touch things extremely volatile, especially with you encased in them.

He wanted to hit something, it was a desperate need and so he whirled around and punched a pole. The straight light instantly went out, the damn thing falling so low it almost kissed the ground. They were charred marks from where he had hit it. "Katsuki," your small voice from inside the car. He wiped his hands on his pants multiple times before ducking his head to peak at you through the open window. "I wanna go home," fragile seven year old.

You could feel Dabi's hands from when he tossed you over his shoulder. They weren't there, you knew they weren't there but... You could feel the hot tears running down your face.

Those were real.

"I wanna go home," you sniffled, "please just take me home."

Dammit, his anger got the best of him and he wasn't there when you needed him. All he had to do was drive you and here he was causing fucking black outs on the side of the road. Maybe that's what those stupid sparks were trying to tell him, warning him that he was getting to far out of control. "I'm sorry princess," he couldn't see your tears no matter how hard he tried to focus. He could hear them though, they were so loud in the silence of the night. He opened the car door, "forgive me?" His hands were dry now.

"He tried to kill me," you dropped your head on his shoulder.

"I know baby, I know." What the hell was he to do? He's never dealt with crying before, least not these kind of tears. Each one burned like acid on his flesh he couldn't take it.

"He wanted me dead," you were nuzzling into his neck searching for the smell of him. Bakugo gritted his teeth, he could already feel his palms heating up again. He wouldn't snap this time though, you needed him. "He's not the only one," you took deep shaky breaths, gulping down the smell of him. You were greedy, consuming as much of it as you possibly could. You wanted it to stick to your skin even when you pulled away, wanted to drown in it. You liked how it flooded your senses, his scent, his heat, his voice, his breathing, his heartbeat. All of it was yours. It emptied out your head forcing you to take him in, to listen, to look, to smell, to feel. Your body gave you no other choice.

"I know baby, we'll take care of it. I'll fix it, don't worry." That was a promise.

"I wanna go home," it was a mantra. Truthfully it was the only words your mind could string together to make sense. Everything else was just too confusing, and the brain power you needed to decipher it had fizzled away with Katsuki.

"I know princess, I'm gonna take you there." He shifted, carefully moving you.

"Please don't let go of me," you clung to him, more tears beginning to form.

"How else am I supposed to drive you home?"

More sobbing from you. Fuck, he didn't know what he was doing. He hadn't meant to make you cry, he wanted it to stop. He was just trying to do what you asked of him and yet that didn't seem like it was what you wanted. He was confused, if that wasn't what you wanted then what was? You were asking for one thing and then would plead for something that contradicted that statement. Would crying always be like this? Had it always been like this?

"Why don't you just keep your head on my shoulder, would that work?" Please say yes. He needed it to work, he needed you to feel better, he had to take you home like you had asked.

You nodded, moving so that he could drive. "I love you," you mumbled, eyes shut. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you." Silence, and then you'd repeat it again. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love." It was like this the whole ride back home. You'd pause, say it once, and then four more times after that. You were a broken record, and he was kill however the fuck scratched you.