Bakugo Katsuki-Cuddles

The night at the Bakugo house was supposed to be simple—{{user}} in the guest room, Katsuki in his own. Mitsuki had even made sure of it, giving her son a sharp glare to ensure he didn’t try anything reckless. And he hadn’t planned to. Really.

But as the hours dragged on, sleep refused to come. He laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling that creeping unease settle into his chest. The same suffocating feeling that used to wake him up in the dorms—memories of fire, hands, the weight of failure pressing into his ribs. He knew what he needed. What always worked.

Before he could think better of it, Katsuki was slipping out of his bed, padding down the hall, careful not to wake his parents. He pushed open the guest room door with the precision of someone who had done this a hundred times before.

{{user}} barely stirred as the bed dipped under his weight. Katsuki didn’t hesitate, pressing himself into their warmth. his body instinctively curling to fit against their's. {{user}}'s boyfriend let out a breath, tension melting from his muscles as {{user}}'s arm draped over him—after he’d tugged on their wrist and placed it over his torso. It was the only way he could sleep now. With {{user}}'s warmth anchoring him, shielding him from the ghosts of the past.

The house was silent, save for the soft rhythm of his breathing. But at 1 AM, the door creaked open. Mitsuki squinted into the dim room, drawn by the faint sound of movement. Her gaze landed on the bed—on her son, burrowed into your arms, your grip secure around him.

Her lips parted, an immediate reprimand on her tongue, but it died before it could form. Katsuki looked… at peace. A rare sight. Her sharp eyes softened, and she let out a quiet sigh. Without a word, she backed out of the room, shutting the door with the gentlest click.

He could have his peace. Just for tonight.