help me / bakudeku omegaverse /

part 11

The office door slammed shut behind them.

"What the hell did you mean back there!?" Katsuki barked the moment they were alone. His voice echoed with barely contained fury.

Izuku had barely managed to steady himself before he was pushed gently onto the couch. Now, he sat hunched over, trying to make himself as small as possible. He hadn't meant for any of this to happen. He knew what he said, but not why he said it. The words had slipped out before he could think—before he could stop them. He had only wanted to hide from the stares, maybe cling to Katsuki's warmth, maybe whisper something comforting. But instead...

All he could think about was her—how she was beautiful, poised, innocent. How she wasn't burdened by a past soaked in blood and pain. She seemed so perfect—and he, so ruined.

"Why would you say something like that?" Katsuki demanded, pacing, voice fraying with frustration. "What's the point of the ten dates if you've already made up your damn mind? Fuck's sake—we haven't even started yet!"

Izuku stared down at his trembling hands. He'd always had trouble speaking without thinking. It had been the root of many of his punishments growing up. There were so many things he wanted to fight, so many injustices he couldn't stand—but he'd always been too weak to change anything. Even now, he couldn't fight the war inside his own head. So, he stayed quiet.

"I really do want to try this," Izuku finally murmured, voice shaking. "But I don't want to force you—if you don't want—"

"No!" Katsuki snapped.

Izuku flinched but cut himself off.

Katsuki looked at him with barely concealed conflict. His chest rose and fell heavily, hands clenching at his sides. He took a breath.

"Then tell me, Izuku. Tell me why you said that. Why, after everything I said in there, you think she would be better—that anyone would be better."

There was something tight in Katsuki's throat now. Izuku could feel it in his voice. It wasn't just anger. It was something deeper. Something raw.

"Tell me," Katsuki repeated.

Still, Izuku said nothing.

"Izuku. Tell me." His voice was lower now, more demanding—but almost pleading.

Izuku clenched his eyes shut. Nothing.

"Tell me!" Katsuki's voice cracked, desperation bleeding through the edges.

Izuku flinched again, then shrank back, whispering something so soft Katsuki barely caught it.

"What?" Katsuki stepped forward. "I didn't catch tha—"

He froze.

Izuku's face was soaked with silent tears. No sniffling. No sobs. Just... tears. Quiet and endless.

"I don't know..." Izuku said, barely a whisper, his voice breaking on the last word.

Katsuki stared at him for a long moment, then sat down beside him slowly, sighing.

"I've brought down a lot of trade rings since I took over," Katsuki said, voice level but thoughtful.