G R A V I T Y
A short #kacchakothread for #kacchakoday

Happy #kacchako day, everyone.

As soon as Katsuki and Ochako got engaged, they knew from the start that they’d rather buy a house they could call their own home instead of throwing a big wedding.

It was certainly a surprise for the general public, given their high ranks in the hero charts, and how most of their colleagues did exactly that on their respective special days.

However, for the people who did know them personally, it came out as expected, with her frugal ways and his “don’t give a fuck what extras say and think” nature.

When they got married, they immediately occupied their newly furnished home.

It wasn’t as big as his former home, as they both agreed on keeping things minimal - just something that would be enough for the both of them and maybe their future two to three kids.

The house they bought was certainly bigger than her former home, as he insisted (along with both their parents) that they deserve it.

He let her take care of basically everything.

She was delighted to choose furniture for their living room, carefully picking a suitable couch that they can use for cuddling while watching her sappy TV dramas. The bathroom was filled with a variety of scented candles.

The smell initially gave him headaches when they were newly dating, but through the years, his nose has grown accustomed to the gentle aroma of lavender and sweet pea, her favorites.

She was even given control of the kitchen, which greatly surprised her.

Between the two of them, everyone knew it was his territory and his alone. When she asked him why, he merely shrugged, saying he trusted her decisions.

The only room he insisted on taking care of was their bedroom.

The extras would probably tease him, and he’d blast their asses off before they can even suggest anything vulgar about his sex life with his wife. He shouldn’t care less, but he grew incredibly agitated whenever the topic was even brought up by anyone.

Anything that happened between them in their private time, must remain and will absolutely remain between the two of them.

A bedroom, for him, was more than just a room where people sleep and be intimate.

For heroes like them who had to face constant danger, it was more than a space where they can rest and fuck to their heart’s content.

He made sure to purchase the best mattress he could find, one with a decent size and good support for their aching bodies and hurting hearts.

Unfortunately, their job wasn’t all about glory and fame. It also meant scars, blood, sadness, and a ridiculous amount of sorrow. He knew he could handle it most of the time, but his wife could not.

She was a strong woman, the best one he knew, but sometimes, days would turn too grim and she would have trouble sleeping. Her mind would reel with many thoughts of regret and what ifs.

And he would hold her, as tears were silently shed.

Her heart was so pure, and he is disappointed that not even the best California king bed in the universe could provide the comfort and solace she deserved.

But he would try his fucking best, only for her.

He would hold her and keep her close, whispering sweet nothings, offering words of understanding and encouragement. He would urge her to forget about the world that night (or morning), as it could worry about itself on its own.

Even when he was hurting as well, he made it a point to assure her that she was a strong human being, and yet, he still wouldn’t let anything try to hurt her, physically or emotionally.

When she is calmer and finally at peace, he would urge her to sleep.

They cannot hurt you anymore, he would promise her.

She would believe him every time.

One of his favorite choices was the white bedside table on her side, which was ironic since he wasn’t the one to use it. On top was her favorite lavender scented candle, which he would light whenever she was feeling stressed out.

Inside the drawers, he kept an assortment of her favorite candy - because sometimes, all she’d need was her sweet tooth to be satiated. And as much as he disliked any instance that she would be upset,

he would be glad and thankful for whatever god there is if sugar can immediately fix her dilemma.

Lastly, he ensured that they had blackout curtains.

She was his sunshine, no doubt. Her presence alone could literally light up a room, and her smile brightened up his day instantly. But on days when she couldn’t even lift a finger, her motivation to get up from bed nowhere to be found,

he would draw the curtains closed, not allowing even the tiniest amount of natural light to get in.

Her eyes would be red and puffy from having cried all night, but her lips would be swollen from all the kisses he’d given her.

Her brown hair would be messy and her body would be sore from the tangle of limbs that they were in the dark, but she would be thankful the next day as she is no longer feeling numb. She may be feeling burnt out from the nature of their lives,

but at the same time she would feel more alive than yesterday. Slowly, the dark confines of their room would shine bright again, all thanks to her, as if she was the sun.

But truthful, it was all thanks to him.

Because if she was his sun, then he was her satellite.

He would be the first person to be proud of her achievements, and he would still be the first person to be there at her lowest points.

Regardless of the situation, she would just attract him to her, pulling him closer and closer, with him wanting to be as near to her as possible at all times. It had to be him, no one else.

His love for her was like gravity.