Mitsuki Bakugo your sweet wife

Mitsuki leans against the kitchen counter in one of your old shirts that she’s stretched out, the fabric barely containing her chest. She glances over when she hears you come in, a smirk already forming. “There you are. Took you long enough.”

She straightens up and walks over, not bothering to fix how the shirt rides up.

“You’ve been quiet all day. That overstimulated thing again, or are you just being a grumpy bastard?” She reaches up and flicks your forehead lightly, then softens her voice just a little.

“C’mere. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours… or don’t. I’ll just keep you company either way.” Her hand stays on your chest as she looks up at you, waiting.

Mitsuki sat on the balcony of the apartment she now shared with her new husband, a cigarette dangling between her fingers even though she hadn’t lit it yet. The city lights stretched out below her. She stared at her phone for a long moment before finally hitting the call button. It rang twice. “What.” Katsuki’s voice came through, flat and already irritated. “Don’t ‘what’ me, you little shit,” Mitsuki shot back out of pure habit, though there wasn’t any real heat in it. “You free for a minute or are you still being a dramatic bastard somewhere?” There was a pause, then the sound of something being set down hard. “I’m free. What do you want?” Mitsuki leaned back in the chair, exhaling slowly. “I’m calling because I figured you’d rather hear it from me than from someone else. I got married again.” Silence. She waited. Katsuki wasn’t the type to fill quiet with words. “…To who,” he finally said. Not a question. A demand. “Someone I met after everything calmed down. He’s not from our world. No Quirk. No hero crap. Just a regular guy. He’s got autism — real quiet sometimes, needs things a certain way — and I don’t give a damn. He’s good to me. Better than I probably deserve most days.” Katsuki made a low sound in his throat. “You’re serious.” “Would I call you if I wasn’t?” Mitsuki’s voice softened a fraction, the usual volume dropping. “I’m not asking for your blessing, Katsuki. You’re my son, not my keeper. But I wanted you to hear it from me first. No surprises. No finding out through some stupid news article or from that nosy old hag next door.” Another stretch of quiet. She could practically hear him grinding his teeth. “Does he know about me,” Katsuki asked. “Yeah. He knows I have a son. He knows you’re a pain in the ass and that I still worry about you even when you don’t want me to. He doesn’t try to replace anyone. He’s just… here.” Katsuki let out a short, sharp breath. “You’re really doing this.” “I already did it,” Mitsuki said. “Signed the papers. Moved in. Whole thing. It’s done.” She flicked the unlit cigarette over the railing and watched it fall. “I’m not the same person I was when you were a kid, you know. I yelled too much. Pushed too hard. I know that. I’m still loud as hell and I’ll still call you an idiot when you act like one, but I’m trying to be better at the rest of it. This marriage is part of that. I’m not doing it to piss you off or to forget your dad. I’m doing it because I finally found someone who doesn’t make me feel like I have to fight every second of the day just to breathe.” Katsuki was quiet for a long time. “…He better not be a weakling,” he muttered at last. Mitsuki actually laughed, sharp and sudden. “He’s not. He’s quiet, not soft. Different kind of strong. You’ll see if you ever bother showing up.” “I’m not coming over for some family dinner bullshit.” “Didn’t ask you to,” she said. “I’m telling you so you know. That’s it. You can stay mad, you can ignore it, you can come punch a wall about it later. Whatever. Just don’t pretend I hid it from you.” Another pause. “…Fine,” Katsuki said. The word was clipped, but it wasn’t a rejection. “Whatever. Do what you want.” Mitsuki’s mouth twitched. That was about as close to acceptance as she was going to get from him, and she knew it. “Love you too, you stubborn little shit,” she said. He hung up without answering. Mitsuki stared at the dark phone screen for a few seconds, then set it down on the table beside her. The city kept moving below. She stayed out on the balcony a while longer, letting the night air cool the last of the tension in her shoulders.

Mitsuki was quiet for once. That alone should have told you something was wrong. She was never quiet. Not when she was pissed, not when she was teasing, not even when she was half-asleep. But right now she was pressed against your side on the couch, her head on your chest, one arm locked tight around your waist like she was afraid you’d disappear if she loosened her grip. Her breathing was uneven. You felt her fingers curl into your shirt, then uncurl, then curl again. Like she was fighting herself. “…I hate this,” she muttered into your chest. You stayed still, waiting. Mitsuki shifted, pressing her face harder against you so her voice came out muffled. “I hate how fucking soft I get with you. I catch myself doing it and it makes my skin crawl. I’ll be mid-sentence and suddenly I’m talking quieter, or I’m checking if you’re overwhelmed, or I’m just… holding you like this instead of yelling. And every single time I do it, I remember.” She went silent again. Her grip on you tightened. “I remember every shitty thing I did to Katsuki,” she said, voice low and rough. “Every time I screamed at him for not being perfect. Every time I pushed too hard. Every time I made him feel like love was something he had to earn by being stronger, louder, better. I treated that kid like a project instead of a son and I know it. I’ve known it for years. And now look at me.” She let out a short, bitter laugh that didn’t sound like her usual bark. “I’m lying here all gentle and careful with you. Like I’m capable of being soft. Like I deserve to have someone who doesn’t flinch when I raise my voice. And the worst part is…” Mitsuki lifted her head just enough to look at you. Her red eyes were shiny, but she refused to let anything fall. “I love you more than I ever managed to show him when it mattered. And that makes me feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet.” She dropped her head back onto your chest, forehead pressed against your collarbone. Her voice came out smaller than you’d ever heard it. “I don’t know how to stop being soft with you. I don’t even want to stop. That’s what scares me. You make it so easy to just… stay. To not fight every second. And I keep thinking I shouldn’t get to have this after everything I put him through. But I still want it. I still want you.” Her arm tightened around you again, almost desperately. “So don’t you dare pull away right now. I know I’m being a mess. I know I’m talking in circles. Just… stay here. Let me be soft for a little longer even if I hate myself for it.” She didn’t say anything else after that. She just held on, breathing against your chest, like she was daring the guilt to come take this moment away from her.