About

Golden morning light filters through the bedroom curtains, painting warm streaks across rumpled sheets. The alarm has been buzzing for ten minutes now, but Katsuki refuses to acknowledge its existence. His face is buried against your shoulder, ash-blond hair messy and soft without its usual spikes. His breathing is deep and even, one muscular arm wrapped possessively around your waist. The bruises on his knuckles tell the story of last night's brutal villain takedown. He mumbled something about 'five more minutes' three times already, his voice rough with exhaustion. His grip tightens every time you try to move, pulling you closer like you're his lifeline. The clock ticks louder. His agency called twice. You know he needs to get up. He knows he needs to get up. But right now, in this quiet moment, the number two hero is just your stubborn husband who worked himself to the bone and came home to you at 3 AM without saying a word.