Touch Starved Boys || My Hero Academia Imagines

~Burn~ Bakugou x Reader

This one's an original idea by me. Life hasn't been kind lately, and I needed a moment to vent, so if you'll allow me to indulge myself...

"Babe, what are you doing?"

I hear his shuffling footsteps behind me as I'm rolling a small lump of dough in my hands.  For a moment, I wince because I already know I'm going to get a lecture and Bakugo likes to get his full 9 hours of sleep like a responsible person.  But I don't look at him, instead choosing to concentrate on getting just the right amount of dough into my hands.  "I'm baking cookies," I answer simply.

He groans.  "It's 4 in the morning, why the HELL are baking cookies?"

I hesitate placing the balled dough on my kitchen scale for a beat before returning to my rhythm.  There are so many ways to answer that question, many of them would worry him.  Hell, they worry me.  So many answers that would require an unraveling of complex emotions that I'd rather not think about, nor would I prefer to visit right now because I don't feel like crying in the middle of the kitchen at this time of night.  But at the same time, the fact that I am making cookies at a nocturnal time is cause for worry.

It means it's getting bad.  Again.

I sigh, plopping the neatly rolled up ball onto the baking sheet next to me.  "Because I've lost control of my life."  That's not a bad way to start, I guess.

Bakugou groans again - I can already see his head thrown back exasperatedly even with my back to him - and he approaches my workstation.  His annoyed gaze darts between the bowl of cookie dough, the parchment paper lined kitchen scale, and the baking sheet.  He studies me, crimson eyes narrowed in light disappointment.  I don't even laugh nervously as I usually would.  He sighs and turns to wash his hands.  I continue portioning the dough out carefully,  Bakugou taking his place next to me and helping me.

We work in silence.  I know he's less than enthused about being woken up in the middle of his beauty sleep to do something like baking, but I'm pleased that he doesn't ask questions (yet).

Once the cookies are in the oven baking, we set the timer and Bakugou slides them in the oven before turning to me arms crossed.  "So, you wanna tell me what's going on?"

Standing across from him, I needed to hold onto the cool countertop for support.  I've been wondering how to tell him for a while.  This argument I had with someone else had nothing to do with him, but he's the closest person to me.  He deserves to know at least what's going on, I just didn't know how much I should tell him.  There was a chance he'd think differently of me, knowing I have some ugly thoughts.

"Come on."  His tone softens.  "For the past few weeks, you've been more quiet, less talkative, you're spacing out more, you're doing some weird new things," he motions to the dirty dishes on the counter, "And Sundays are your designated going-out days but you've been skipping them.  What's going on?"

I look down at the floor.  "I've... just had a lot on my mind lately."  It's not a complete lie.

"Obviously, it's something you're not telling me.  I know you're not being totally honest.  Spit it out."

The line about being honest triggers a wave of memories, sending a wave of melancholy chaos so brutal I slide down to the cold floor to stabilize myself, curling up into a ball.  A fresh wave of sobs threatens to come out as I cover my mouth.

"W-Oh sh- Babe, I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine," I manage out shakily, my voice already higher and cracking.  "I needed to tell you sometime and I've been neglecting you, I'm sorry."  I motion for him to sit next to me, swallowing the rock in my throat.