bakugou traces over the scars on kirishima’s back while he sleeps & kisses every single one of them because his husband may get hurt a lot but that doesn’t mean he’s fragile. his battle scars are beautiful & they show just how strong ei really is. a strong hero, HIS strong hero.

ei’s a heavy sleeper so he doesn’t normally wake up whenever bakugou is trailing kisses along his back. but on rare occasions when he does, he simply reaches a hand back to lace it with one of katsuki’s and squeezes because yeah, he really needs to feel beautiful sometimes.

and fuck, he’s so beautiful. so fucking beautiful and katsuki may not say the words out loud but the way he worships and traces over his scars as if they were sent straight from heaven is enough for ei to know. katsuki squeezes his hand back and hums.

so beautiful.

kirishima starts sleeping on his stomach more often and he’s not sure if it’s just his subconscious or if he does it on purpose. but either way it’s for katsuki to have free access to his back. and just one touch, one trace over his skin after a particularly hard day is enough.

and bakugou knows it might be a little weird, but now he can’t even fall asleep until he’s traced over every little mark, every little scar covering eijirou’s otherwise smooth skin, because it helps him too. it helps him realize that even the most beautiful people have flaws.

but one day, ei doesn’t lay down on his stomach when he climbs into bed. instead, he rearranges some pillows & props himself up against the headboard, holding his arms out to katsuki. it’s an invitation. a silent notion for bakugou to join him. so he does.

he crawls between eijirou’s legs & leans his back against his husband’s chest. he slowly relaxes whenever ei’s fingers start tracing over his arms. it takes him a moment to realize what ei’s doing, but when he does he nearly cries.

it’s his turn for his scars to be worshipped.

and all the words katsuki hadn’t been able to say about eijirou’s scars suddenly start flowing out of the latter’s mouth, smooth and liquid and sweet like honey. intoxicating.

“perfect,” ei whispers, pressing a kiss to his hair, “perfect and beautiful. you’re so beautiful.”

and fuck, is that what eijirou felt every time katsuki did this for him? this fluttering in his chest? this bubbling in his stomach? his fingers leaving scalding hot trails in their wake? the suffocating air of love?

oh. katsuki liked this.

there’s so many words he wants to say but can’t even mutter out loud. so many feelings he doesn’t even know how to express, how to show. & suddenly, he wishes that ei had waited until he was asleep, like katsuki always did for him. cause then his face wouldn’t have been as pink.

& eijirou slowly slides katsuki’s shirt over his head so he can trace over the scars on his stomach & chest, too. he wants to praise them all, admire each & every dip & rise of the roughly healed skin. because as beautiful as kat thinks /he/ is, ei thinks kat is ten times that

katsuki, mind hazy from trying to clear his thoughts, is finally able to push some words out of his mouth. they come out a little hoarse, more gravelly than he intended due to the sleepiness entangling his body, but they come out nevertheless.

“my favorite scar is you.”

he immediately wants to groan at how fucking corny it was, how it didn’t even make any fucking /sense/ that he had said that. but he honestly didn’t know how else to word it because it was the truth. his favorite scar was eijirou. the boy who’d been engraved in his body since 15.

the boy who’d shoved his way into his life & refused to leave & little by little cut deeper & deeper into katsuki’s heart. the boy who’d shown him how to change. the boy who’d shown him how to care. the boy who’d shown him how to grow. the /man/ who’d shown him how to love.

it was an odd way to put it, yes, but eijirou was a scar. a beautiful one. one that showed a battle that katsuki had overcome and remained as a reminder that he had won. won something far more precious than anything he could have ever dreamed of.

he won eijirou’s heart.

he felt eijirou’s heart rate pick up against his back & his fingers stopped tracing. katsuki was almost inclined to ask if he had said the wrong thing, wanted to curse himself for ruining the mood. but then ei’s arms wrap tightly around his waist & pull him even further into him.

“i love you,” eijirou says against the smooth skin where katsuki’s neck meets his shoulder. “god, katsuki, i love you so much.”

and katsuki feels his heart swell, the tiny little x on the inside giving him a tug, urging him to reach a hand back and direct eijirou’s lips to his.

because as beautiful as eijirou’s scars were, as beautiful as katsuki’s were as well, they were nothing compared to this. to them. to the mark that their love had engrained within themselves. a scar that would never go away, never fade from the skin & disappear.

katsuki loved tracing over eijirou’s scars while he was asleep, but he was ever thankful for the day eijirou traced his scars while he was awake. because he learned something new about himself that day, something he had thought before but never really confirmed.

kirishima eijrou was the scar that made bakugou katsuki beautiful. and the most beautiful things are always the strongest. always last the longest.

he loved their scars.

- end of thread

this was just me totally rambling, it wasn’t even supposed to be a thread but here we are lmao ,, thanks for all the love on it u guys r sweet ily