bnha comfort stories

Denki x reader (sh)

Key:
M/f/d =my favorite dish

"Finally I am home, what a long day, baby, I am home!!!" Said Denki, your boyfriend of 7 years.

You met a long time ago in UA, you were in the same class. You were a bit shy and he was outgoing. He was the first one to approach you. He was having trouble with a lesson he didn't understand and you decided to help him out.

You discovered during that year that being a hero wasnt really meant for you and you decided to follow your heart; that is to choose classes that would let you enter med school, you loved physics and science and you excelled in those subjects.

So despite you changing classes you and Denki were always spending time together. Eat school lunch together, meet during breaks, go on dates during the weekend, study together. Everything seemed perfect and for the most part it was... except one thing.

You see, you and Denki are very close and you share everything to one another. Everything except one thing. You had something, a ritual of some sorts that you kept hidden from everyone.

Every time you get a grade you didn't like, had a bad day, every time you felt the need to punish yourself youd get a blade and you'd cut yourself.

In middle school you bought blades for the first time with the intention of self harming. You were suffering from severe PTSD and your world had become nightmares and panic and rage in a bed of empty, exhausting apathy. You felt so utterly weak and damaged, all the time. Buying blades you felt powerful, defiant against all those who required that you show no sign of your suffering.

Breaking those rules felt like being true to yourself. That link between owning your own pain and harming yourself was powerful. Because for you, it clicked so strongly self harm immediately became an intense, consuming addiction.

You experienced such relief from your anguish in self harm it was electric. Physical pain created an intense focus for your thoughts, it shifted you out of the mundane world into a deeply needed altered state and created a powerful sense of ownership over your body and proof of your pain to yourself. It eased suicidal despair and sated your constant self loathing. For a short while the internal litany of how stupid, ugly, selfish, pathetic, and what a miserable freakish lonely failure you were would go quiet. It was peace. You felt strong instead of weak.

The next morning you were drowning in shame, and the self loathing intensified beyond anything you'd previously experienced. The sight of the wounds would trigger rage at yourself. "Why was so weak and pathetic?"

Once the wounds healed and were less visible, You would feel panic. You needed to see them. You would desperately want new wounds. The longer you went without seeing your own blood, the more compelled you felt.

So the experience, like all addictions, created the conditions to feed itself, becoming its own trigger and containing both the problem (shame, pain, self hate) and the remedy. Once inside the locked room you were trapped. The compulsion felt simultaneously too powerful to fight, and extremely minor, a mere suggestion that you were choosing to indulge.

You felt so much guilt because you weren't completely honest with Denki, you were truthful about your struggles but you never verbalized how much these things affected you.

"Helloo?~ where are you?"

Denki took of his coat and hung it up. Then he took off his shoes and turned on the lights

"Hm that's weird, they usually are studying in the living room when i come back from work.."

"Baby i need my welcome home kiss...." he says with an adorable pout.