#unedited AF u've been warned

[sipsteainanxiety]

when pro-hero dynamite saved you for the first time, it was raining ash and fire.

you didn't know what was happening. you'd just wanted to grab a candy bar from a konbini. that was all.

just a candy bar, you thought brokenly as you stared up at the imploding building before you. debris shot out into the air similar to the way dust was blown from a flat surface, falling to the earth like a heavy hand. the darkness of the crushed concrete and rigid steel beams stood out against a sky coated in a blood-orange haze. your lips trembled, your feet frozen in place as flickers of fire danced in the gleam of your eyes and the debris loomed steadily closer, unrelenting in their path towards your body.

run, you begged in your mind, move! move!! but you couldn't. you couldn't. you'd never escape in time—you were no pro, had no power to save yourself with. your life thread had been snipped by fate herself and you could only close your eyes and hope death would be swift.

there was the boom of thunder that rattled your chest, a swell in the air. something—hard, heavy—slammed into your abdomen. you couldn't even let out a sound. a whoosh whistled past your ears and made your hair whip forward. hot air slapped its hand across your face, unforgiving.

then you were falling—skidding across a rough surface. you choked out, your back collided with something hard. you rolled and rolled and rolled, until finally, you came to a stop. your heart was frantic, running on the adrenaline that coursed through your veins. you could hardly see anything past the dust that coated your lashes, and your hair that tangled itself around your face.

and then you realized you were laying on something warm.

you opened your eyes—squeezed shut to the point of your eyelids melding together—and stared down at the bruised, battered figure of dynamite. his eyes flickered behind his mask, fighting against unconsciousness. you could only slap a hand over your mouth in horror at the fractured steel pipe that stuck out from his shoulder—from the falling debris. blood saturated the material of his shirt, coated your hands in ruby when you pressed them to his wound to aid him in some way. your lips shook with the thanks you desperately hoped he'd be able to hear.

you were the one he almost didn't manage to save in time. but he did.

your hero in the light.

when you saved bakugou katsuki for the first time, it was the middle of the night—dark, quiet.

you woke up with a start, a feeling of unease creeping over your shoulder to grip tightly at your throat. you blinked in the void of your room, then turned around once you felt the bed shake minutely. the gleam of your eyes mirrored that of a cat's in the darkness as you watched katsuki with bated breaths.

his face, hardly visible with the new moon in the sky, had the color drained from it as though someone had used a sponge to suck it all up. sweat lined his brows, soaked the soft strands of ash-blond that were stuck to his forehead. his lips quivered like a bow's wire after an arrow had been shot from it.

you reached over and ran a gentle hand over the rough scar on his bare shoulder—a slight touch that shouldn't have meant anything at all. but he suddenly shot up, awake, panting as though he'd suffered through miles and miles of desert heat.

you froze, then slowly sat up when he continued to breathe heavily, sporadically. you crawled forward when he didn't move a muscle and peered around him to stare up at his face.

his eyes were eclipses, covered by the things that haunted him in his dreams—nightmares. his hands clenched and unclenched from atop his lap. there was a popping sound, accompanied by the briefest flashes of white light that came from his palms. you waited until the popping stopped, then reached out a hand to hold onto his own. tight. reassuring. he squeezed back after a long, long moment, hesitant.

and you held him like that until he collapsed back onto his pillows, a deep breath leaving his lips. asleep once more.

he was the one you saved every night.

his hero in the dark.