“do You Think We’re Soulmates?”

i just know satoru’s the type to lean down when you two are making out while standing up, and he literally pushes himself into your personal space because he cannot physically get enough of you. like his hands are gripping your flesh, your thighs, your ass, and then his hand wraps around your neck and when you try to pull away to breathe, he chases after your lips and pecks them repeatedly.

“no no no—come back here, please,”

Bakugou, whose stamina is unbeatable. Who has just finished fucking you in any place necessary of the bedroom—the bed, the mini-couch, the floor—and still can’t keep his hands off you.

After laying on the bed for rejuvenating moments (at least for him), his large hand slides up your shoulder with a few coaxing kisses.

“Shower,” is all he says, his gruff voice strained and warm breath perceptible against your neck. You just nod weakly and attempt to ignore the mess between your legs.

In fact, he has to carry you to the bathroom. When you’re both in the shower, he still acts as support: your back is to his chest so he bears most of your weight, and his fingers span your lower stomach while you attempt to wash yourself.

You can barely keep your eyes open, so relaxed by the water, but he can see all of you just by where his chin rests on your shoulder. The water and soap sliding past the peaks of your breasts, the souvenirs that you not-so-sternly asked him not to leave on your skin.

Where you rest in front of him, he can’t help but feel aroused all over again, especially rubbing his hands over your supple skin that he couldn’t appreciate the first few rounds, clouded by the roughness you love.

Unable to just watch, he gently spins you around. Your eyes are half-closed, so you pay it no mind. You just continue your slow, leisure washing, completely unaware of the fact that he’s completely hard again, even if you wouldn’t be surprised.

Your eyes open back to reality when he gently takes the loofah from you and hangs it up on the little hook. His muscles casually ripple when he does literally anything, and if you weren’t so attracted to it, you’d be jealous.

“C’mere,” he orders, his voice in that soft tone reserved for you. His hands follow, crossing at your lower back and pulling you toward him even more. The atmosphere is hot and slow with the exhaustion settled into both of you.

You do something of a hum in question, but don’t resist when he leans down and slowly captures your lips in his. Your longing for each other is evident simply in the sigh that follows when you connect.

There’s water dripping everywhere, mostly on you, but the kiss is everything Bakugou usually isn’t: patient, slow, and needy. Actually, no. He was always pretty needy.

“Kat,” you whisper, and he groans in response, stretching his hands up your wet skin until he crosses your ribs, his thumbs move past the side of your breasts, and your arms are naturally guided to his neck.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were asking, to be honest, but you didn’t care. Not when you could feel the length of him pressed against your stomach.

Bakugou moves a few strands of drenched hair back behind your ear, and then strokes the rest at your nape to keep your head up to him. It was admirable, really, how he could be literally twitching in arousal, and still move like it doesn’t bother him at all.

Although, he is getting closer at hinting to it, because somewhere in the heat, your right leg is being lifted to his hip. When you find an escape from his kiss (he doesn’t allow you many), you glance down to what he’s doing.

He interprets your brows slightly furrowing and the low, tired droop of your eyes, already knowing what you’re going to say.

Voice still soft and practically gone even in distress, you begin, “I can’t go another round. There’s no way I’ll—”

“Shh,” he places a kiss on your forehead, then another at your temple. His head dips to lick and kiss in the crook of your neck, and your fingers either run through his wet, blonde hair or span the muscles of his back. He’s completely gone.

The left hand that upholds your leg starts to massage your thigh and inch up to your ass. “I talk to this pretty pussy almost every night, and you don’t think I know what you can handle?”

A whimper leaves your mouth and your hold tightens around him. Despite your lower body being completely stretched and at ease, he can still feel the tension elsewhere.

He continues, his voice dripping with reassurance, “Slide it in yourself. Then you tell me how it feels.”

And after a few moments and a sigh, you carefully reach down and wrap your fingers around him the best you can. You can feel him react to the movement alone, and with a prayer, you guide his head right to your entrance so you can sink when you’re ready.

When you descend, an immediate whine feels the air. He still fit perfectly from earlier and the sensitivity had tripled.

“Fuck,” you curse, wrapping yourself around him again. He holds you close.

“Feel good?”

You nod, and he throbs inside at the same time. He kisses you again, making sure to uphold you through your fatigue. Helping those in need was his job after all.

His right hand that covers your lower back loosens so that your weight inches backwards, then it pulls you right back in until you’re pressed against each other.

He groans with pleasure. The vibrations move to your lips that kiss him like he’s the last man on Earth.

And then he does it again, and again, until your head is simply resting on your own shoulder with your arms encircling his neck, water rushing down your hair and back. Your eyes are completely closed as he cradles you, erotic whines, whimpers, and moans falling from your lips into his ear.

Your slick walls drag up and down his skin. He moves so easily in and out that he can feel the outline of where his head usually reaches—the little space left. He was nowhere near as deep right now, but he is sure with the slight bend of his knees, he could have you screaming how you were for the hours before this.

And funnily enough, he doesn’t want you screaming at the moment. It’s something previous Bakugou would never say; not rock hard and needing to be balls deep in you quick Bakugou, at least.

You were worn out and tired, your body unable to take his usual pace. He’s almost 90% sure if he lifted you off the ground, you’d comply and hold on tighter, but he’s not going to push you that far. Not when he’s content like this, caressing your beautiful, dripping figure as you cry his name.

“Mmghn, that feels s-so good.” You speak, just above a whisper. And somehow, he can still hear you over the water and small splash of you both meeting in the middle. It’s like his brain is wired. No matter what, he’ll always be able to hear you.

He nods and kisses the side of your head again, keeping stable and consistently moving with minimal effort. The underside of your right knee is now resting in his elbow, so his hand can hold your waist and pull most of your weight that way instead of trying to push your whole body with just your thigh. At some point, you began helping him out.

“Keep moving your hips just like that, I got you.”

You groan at the instruction, and he chuckles heartily. Love poured from him and into you, making you feel more safe and secure than ever.

It didn’t take long until warmth gathered in your core with your clit dragging back and forth along his cock. He occasionally grunts and has to fix position to keep himself from spilling inside, not before you do first.

He can’t explain the relief he has when you insist that you’re gonna come soon in the form of a warning. It builds with each “thrust” and being so close to him as he carries you to climax.

“I’mna come,” you say again, more rushed this time, but muffled by his shoulder.

“I can feel it.” He responds, keeping pace. “Do you know what it feels like having you pulsing around me? Knowing you’re going straight into your sleep after?”

You shake your head.

“Hell, baby. Hell.”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way: the only option you have on sleepless nights being him. When you tap his shoulder or rub yourself against him, knowing he’ll never say no. Hope could he? He takes great pride in being your melatonin.

And, without fail, you fall into a perfect deep sleep, his cum still dripping into or out of you. It’s never there in the morning, and he loves that the only way it will happen is if he wears you out.

“Kattt…” You toss your head back, a low rumble in your throat that you only make when you’re on the verge of completely losing it. He attacks your neck again, letting your body naturally bounce off him and come back.

“Let yourself feel it. Let me take you there,” he encourages gruffly, nipping at your ear.

“Agh, fuck,” you nearly sob, digging yourself further into him somehow.

His eyes shut, a wave of clarity rushing over him. It’s you, his woman, his everything, needing him. He thought he knew what he wanted early in life. He knew he wanted to be desired by others in multiple ways, the best at everything. God, how wrong he was.

Now he wants to be the best at everything for you. Because you deserve nothing less. He doesn’t want to be desired by anyone else but you, because you carry all the validation he could possibly gain dopamine from. Nothing compares to you being completely and utterly dependent on him, clinging to him for dear life.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he spouts, not bothering to stop or care about being sappy. He loves to hear you whine in response, only to finally come up with a few words. Clearly you got the cheesy feeling too.

“L-Love you, Kats.”

He bushels the hair at the bottom of your head with a grunt, tilting your nose up to him. He lets his lips kiss you passionately first, then he pulls away, but obviously not too far since you’re still nose to nose. Your eyebrows are upturned in that sensual expression he loves.

His deep, crimson eyes flicker to your puffy lips, a sign of the night, and land on your pretty damp eyelashes. He was breathless and stern.

“Don’t look away. Keep your eyes on me, or I’ll stop.”

You blink, registering his words with the shake of your head. “Don’t stop,” you plead.

He calls your name, and it’s enough to know he’s being dead serious. Both his grips tighten, mainly the one in your hair, and you don’t know if it’s water dripping down your cheeks or a tear or two.

You can feel your bottom leg beginning to shake, and the heat get to your head.

You shut your eyes instinctively, “K—”

“I’ve got you, don’t even think about it. Look at me.”

Your eyes shoot open in remembrance of his words as he leaves and reenters you again with increased speed, the sound when you slap together even louder. He holds your head in place. “I love you more, baby. More than you can ever dream.”

You watch his eyes and they say everything you can’t, everything he can’t, and that alone is enough to send you over the edge.

Your jaw drops and you literally begin shaking, not caring that all the strength you had left went into your orgasm. Your head pounds with the stream of the shower and fatigue, and your hands begin to slip at his neck, but you don’t even care. You know he’s got you. He said it himself.

“Shit,” he hisses, your orgasm expected, but the power of it not. He almost missed the fact that you were gushing around him by mistaking it as the water, the countless times you’d done this before catching up to you. He keeps thrusting his hips forward and whispering you praises. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

You are sobbing now, real tears as he stills and twitches inside. He holds the promise he made to you since you did the same. He keeps his eyes focused on you, even as white spurts paint your insides, and puts his swollen lips on yours. Through your gasps, you couldn’t kiss him back, so he bites your bottom one instead.

It isn’t until you lose your footing and go limp against him that he bends to pick you up and lower your leg gently. You’re still jerking slightly, your muscles overworked, and the last of his release lands somewhere on your thighs as your back is arched away from him.

Before you can say anything or even think about it, he holds you upright and bends down to kiss you with all he has left, now that you’re somewhat here. When it’s over, you fall against him completely.

The rest is a blur, and the next time you know what’s happening, you’re tangled together in the unused guest bedroom.

©️ hxltic

Umemiya is the guy who shows up with a potted plant at the first date.

He thinks bouquets are pretty and all but they die so fast - so he gifts you a whole plant. It comes with a cute pot (he hand painted the ceramics for you) and if you take good care of it, you will have it for years.

bf! katsuki trying to convince his girlfriend to go on a date with him but you're lazy.

you were stretched out on the couch, lazily scrolling through your phone as the sun began to set.

meanwhile, katsuki was pacing in the living room, looking restless. he had been talking for the past ten minutes about going out to a new restaurant in town, but you weren't really interested.

you were perfectly content in his shirt, wrapped in the comfort of your blanket, and enjoying the quiet.

"sweets, you seriously don't wanna go out tonight?" katsuki asked, his eyebrow raised in a way that made it obvious he wasn't pleased with the lack of enthusiasm.

you glanced up at him, blinking, trying not to show how amused you are to see him like this. "maybe. kind of like it here. it's cozy, y'know?"

katsuki let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his hair. he can't go out alone. it was gonna be boring for him. not to mention annoying. since you were the one that kept the paparazzi at bay, so his ranks don't go too down. "just go out with me for once, woman, goddamn."

"aww, katsuki. how about this—if you pay me $500, i'll go out with you. how about that?"

you grinned, thinking: surely, you'll just stay here the whole night. watch him sulk a bit more before he cuddles up to you, have the same leftovers, maybe some sex. it was gonna be a boring, but easy night.

but clearly, you were wrong.

katsuki blinked, his face unreadable for a moment. then, without missing a beat, he reached into his wallet and pulled out a crisp stack of bills, handing you exactly $500.

your eyes went wide, jaw nearly hitting the floor. "what—wait! katsuki, i was joking! i didn’t actually expect you to—" you fumbled with the money in your hands, feeling a sudden rush of panic.

"i knew you were joking, idiot. but you said you’d go with me if i gave you the money," katsuki’s expression didn’t change. his tone was casual, like it was no big deal. "now quit being lazy and get ready for our date, sweets."

your brain short-circuited for a moment, scrambling to come up with some way to backtrack. "n-no, i was kidding! seriously, i didn't think you'd actually—"

you tried to shove the money back into his hands, but katsuki just shook his head with a small smirk, gently pushing the money back to you, holding your hand. "a deal’s a deal, sweets. don't back out now. thought you were better than that."

your cheeks flushed as you start to realize how serious he was. "this is insane! katsuki, i can't take this! i wasn’t serious! i was just trying to make a joke!"

"you said $500, didn't you?" katsuki said with a smug grin. he leaned back into the couch, crossing his arms behind his head. "its nothing. but, jokes aside, i’m still waiting for you to get ready."

you stared at the money in your hands, still unsure how to handle the situation. but you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"oh my god, fine," you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "why do you wanna go on that date so badly?"

"tch, what can I say? i enjoy your company. even if you are lazy," he reached out to ruffle your hair, enjoying the way it disheveled under his touch. "besides, i've been wanting to take you somewhere nice for a while now."

you raise an eyebrow, tilting your head to one side. "really? why? we don't even have any special dates this month or anything."

katsuki rolled his eyes, as if the answer was obvious. his hand crawls to yours again, intertwining his fingers with yours. "because maybe.. i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."

he sat up from the couch, squeezing your hand, gesturing you to follow him. "now, get your ass movin' before i have to drag you. wanna see you in that new dress i bought."

you sigh in exasperation, standing up, letting him lead you to the bedroom to change. "why do i even bother... you're just gonna rip it off of me anyway.."

"oh, you're adorable. its like you know me so well." he pulled you closer, pressing your against his body, his hand trailing up your back.

"now c'mere," he whispered, before leaning down to kiss your neck. "lemme help you get this off," he murmurs, spoiling your neck with open-mouthed kisses, his fingers tracing along your waist.

you chuckled, your breath hitching at his touch. "so long as i help you too..." you drawled, your hands drifting beneath his shirt.

"cheeky little brat," he scoffs, moving his lips to her jawline, holding onto the hem of your shirt, slowly yanking it up.

"you gonna be good for me, sweets?"

"mhm..."

"good."

and as painful as it was for katsuki, you did stay good. all you did was help each other out of your clothes. maybe sneaked in a few kisses here and there but didn't fool around, eventually dressing up into something formal before leaving.

and, yes. after treating you to one of the best dinners you've ever had, katsuki did rip off your dress. and made sure to remind you that he was the only one you were ever going on dates with.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ wrote this up bc im rotting in bed lmaolmao also what do you guys feel about bridgerton au with katsuki... 🧍🏻‍♀️

you are the first girl whose smile won gojo over, and he fell in love with you unconditionally, but your daughter, who became an extension of both of your lives, showed him another form of love.

you often like to tease him that she took everything after her father, but at one point, when satoru was playing with her, he could not believe his eyes when he saw that she had an exact cope of your smile. he experienced that unimaginable feeling again, but in a completely different way — it is something precious, something that connects you.

“satoru?”

“she has your smile.”

Do you have any headcannon about if hoku parents met the boys. Like ace, Luffy and the crew?

Manu

doesn't really like Ace, thinks men his type are trouble despite their smiles, "They burn bright and they burn fast, maka. Don't get caught in the aftermath."

thinks Zoro is trustworthy but isn't the fondest of him, he's more of an agreeable sort but his lack of respect is appalling

would actually like Franky quite a bit, he's the type Manu finds amusing

would be interested in Brook, doesn't take his perverted jokes too well

he'd get along well with Sabo but wouldn't quite be the fondest of him, most likely because he knows even though Sabo is the most "mature" he's also one of the smarter, perhaps slyer ones

he'd probably be fondest of Sanji, despite the flirty and wooing, Manu would find Sanji to be one of the best. He's the type that likes earnest, good men who are a bit easy to read in moments like that. If there was anyone he'd let Hoku date it'd be Sanji.

on a side note would be quietly fond of Nami and Robin, but also a little wary of them in the sense that he knows they could easily round Hoku into trouble because he has a feeling Hoku has a harder time turning these two down

all in all, Manu's just a bit harder to please or have warm up to you, but he comes from good intentions, only the best for his Maka

Mahina

would really like Zoro, he's probably her favorite, on a side note Zoro would like her quite a bit too, he'd remind her a lot of Mihawk in ways that are also different, and she'd be charmed by his way with his swords and his dream in life

would absolutely love Franky, loud men like that make her laugh

is interested in Brook but finds him a little creepy

she'd like Ace quite a bit, but I think she would feel a strange need to help correct this kid on a few misconceptions he has between himself and her daughter, would also tease him a lot

would tease the hell out of Sabo, she'd like him fine, but she'd have a pretty good read on him the way Manu does and take it upon herself to tease Sabo and make him squirm

would love Nami and Robin and want to spend time with them

she'd like Sanji quite a bit but worries that he's a bit weak? she hopes this one will be alright

all in all, Mahina is easier to please, she tends to like everyone but she's secretly the hardest to get to approve in a romantic sense

They would both love Luffy.

On your daughter's first day of kindergarten, Katsuki told her to keep her distance from the boys, or she'd contract their infectious disease, and she listened because papa is never wrong. You get a complaint from her teacher on the very same day, saying she wouldn't let any of the boys come near her. You go to scold Katsuki for it, but he's already holding her in his arms, spinning her and kissing her cheek, congratulating her for not contracting the infectious and stinky little boy disease.

Please please pleaseee more dad shoto x mom reader its js too fluffy and cute 😭🙏

NOTE. so much fluff, my heart can’t take it anymore <3

Todoroki never thought that there would be a point in his life where he spent his weekends lying on the living room floor, holding a full conversation with his eight-month-old son as if the tiny human could actually understand every word. And yet, here he was—stretched out on his back, staring at the ceiling while his son, Shuu, rested against his chest, happily kicking his little legs as they engaged in what Todoroki was beginning to consider their usual weekend routine.

You had gone out to get groceries, leaving them alone for a while, and he had quickly discovered that Shuu was happiest when he was either being held or allowed to clamber all over his father like a small, determined climber.

Currently, said baby was on his stomach, his tiny hands gripping at Todoroki’s shirt as he made an admirable attempt to push himself up with all the strength his chubby little arms could muster. The doctor had mentioned tummy time was good for his development, but to Shuu, it was a grand adventure—maybe even his greatest enemy.

His son looked so much like him that it sometimes took Todoroki by surprise.

His wispy hair was still soft and undecided in color, but those round, curious eyes were a perfect mirror of yours. Every so often, when Shuu blinked up at him with an expression of innocent curiosity, it hit Todoroki that this was his child.

His son.

The little person that he and you had brought into the world. The realization never failed to strike him in quiet moments like this, when he had nothing to do but bask in the weight of it.

“You wouldn’t believe the week I had, Shuu,” Shouto murmured, lifting a hand to gently rub slow, soothing circles on his son’s tiny back.

Shuu let out an excited coo in response, one of his chubby hands grasping at the fabric of Todoroki’s shirt. His fingers barely curled around the material, but he held on determinedly.

“Midoriya somehow managed to schedule us for a meeting at seven in the morning. Seven, Shuu. On a Friday. You know what that means?”

Shuu let out a happy shriek, completely unaware of the horror of early morning meetings. Todoroki sighed dramatically. “Exactly. It means I had to wake up even earlier to get dressed, drink coffee, and mentally prepare for Midoriya’s enthusiasm before the sun was even fully up.” He paused, frowning slightly. “And then he had the audacity to say it was a ‘great team-building experience.’”

His son slapped a tiny hand against his chest, his bright eyes gleaming as he babbled incoherently. Todoroki nodded as if he understood.

“Mhm, I know. I should’ve expected it. But at least your uncle Bakugou suffered with me.”

His son cooed in response, the sound soft and bubbly, like he was adding his own input.

Todoroki nodded solemnly. “Yes, exactly. You understand.”

The baby let out another happy noise before suddenly pressing his face against his father’s chest, his tiny mouth leaving a damp spot on the fabric. Todoroki exhaled through his nose. “And now you’re drooling all over me. Again.” He chuckled in amusement, bringing a small bib up to carefully wipe away the small trail of drool forming on his son’s chin.

“Wah uhm!”

Todoroki sighed, but there was no real annoyance in his expression. But there was an odd sense of contentment settling over him as he let his hand rest on his son’s back, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. It was moments like this that made everything else—the long work hours, the exhaustion, the constant balancing act of being both a hero and a father—completely worth it.

“You are very talkative today,” he observed, shifting slightly so Shuu was better balanced on his chest. His son blinked down at him, completely unbothered, before letting out another high-pitched babble. “Oh? That’s your input? You think I should get revenge on Midoriya?” Todoroki’s lips twitched. “That’s devious. Just like your mother.”

At the mention of you, Shuu’s little face brightened even more, and he kicked his legs with excitement, making Todoroki smile. “You miss Mama already?” He kissed the top of his son’s head, inhaling the soft baby scent that lingered in his hair. “She’ll be back soon. She’ll probably scold me if I let you get too drooly before she comes home.”

As if on cue, Shuu blew a big, wet raspberry against Todoroki’s shirt, successfully soaking the fabric. Todoroki sighed again. “Well, I walked right into that one.”

He shifted slightly, tilting his head to get a better look at his son’s tiny features. “You’re going to grow up into a strong, smart boy, Shuu,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “And I’ll always be here. Even when you start talking back to me instead of babbling nonsense.”

Shuu responded by planting both hands on his father’s chest and pushing up, his tiny arms trembling with the effort. He held himself up for a moment before collapsing back down with a happy squeal, his round cheeks pressing against Todoroki’s shirt.

Todoroki smiled, gently rubbing his son’s back again.

The front door opened a moment later, and your voice called out, “I’m home!”

Shuu perked up instantly, letting out a delighted squeal as he tried to push himself up again. If anything, Todoroki thinks that Shuu would’ve crashed into your legs by now if he were able to walk. And he just lifted him with ease, sitting up just as you walked into the living room with a grocery bag in each hand. You took one look at them—Todoroki’s shirt covered in drool, Shuu’s delighted expression—and shook your head fondly.

“Did you two have fun?” you asked, setting the bags down on the kitchen counter before making your way over.

“I think he’s plotting something,” Todoroki said seriously. “He suggested I take revenge on Midoriya.”

You gasped, placing a hand over your mouth in exaggerated shock. “Shuuchan! Are you already learning how to scheme?”

Your son shrieked in response, his chubby arms reaching for you, his mother. You laughed, scooping him up and peppering his face with kisses. Todoroki watched you, his heart full.

Yes, he never thought he’d be here—spending his weekends talking to an eight-month-old like he was a full-grown adult.

But he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

satoru is the kind of husband who’s often absent. between missions, meetings, jujutsu high, and let’s not forget his clan, he spends his time running around instead of spending time with you — his wife.

it’s a routine. though sometimes, not seeing him can get really frustrating (not to mention the number of tears you’ve shed because of his absence). he’s well aware of it. poor guy feels guilty every second he’s away from you.

one evening, after spending the whole time of it crying over his absence, curled up like a caterpillar in the soft, cottony white duvet, you finally found sleep. a deep sleep, to be precise.

but apparently not deep enough, because in the middle of the night, the moonlight filtering through the windows wakes you up. you quickly realize something heavy is resting on your body. a warm, steady breath brushes against the skin of your neck, sending shivers across your whole body.

you squirm slightly under your husband, who’s lying on top of you as if you were his mattress. “satoru, get off me…”

“hmmm,” he hums, pouting and furrowing his brows. instead of freeing you, he shifts lazily on top of you, trapping you further in his arms. and you’re still wrapped in your duvet, too.

“satoru, i can’t move anymore.” but that doesn’t seem to matter. he clings to you like a koala to a tree. you sigh.

“i missed you.” he plants a soft kiss on your cheek, instantly melting your heart. “i love you.” he chuckles softly, eyes still closed, because he knows you don’t really hold it against him. “i’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” a promise he kept, to your delight.

Bakugou seems to have an entitlement to you.

Even though you verbally express how much you hate his guts, he still tells other people that you’re his. It pisses you off more than anything.

He’s been like this since middle school. He bullied you but when someone else tried to do the same he’d loose his shit. He would corner you and dump out your entire book bag. Then you’d have to scramble to pick up the items on the floor. He would even kick some stuff away as you reached for it. Your teeth clenched at his laughter from your frustration because apparently knowing you couldn’t do anything about the treatment was so fucking hilarious to him.

That wasn’t even the worst thing you’d have to deal with from him. Even so, he’d still find a way to boast to everyone that you were his. He’d even walk you home, kicking stones in your path the entire time.

The bullying got slightly better in high school but the entitlement got worse.

He wasn’t insufferable with his treatment anymore but by then you’d hated him too much to care. He would purposely piss you off in the most casual ways. He wasn’t bullying you, he was just annoying you. It’s as if he needed you to remember of his existence.

He’d stand too close, stare relentlessly, use your stuff without asking, sit next to you uninvited, shoulder check you in the hallway, trip you, etc. It was such light treatment that you sounded absolutely crazy explaining how much you hated him for it.

You were talking to Mina about it one day and she wasn’t as understanding as you hoped.

“Wait… you think Bakugou is tormenting you because he’s showing interest in you?”

You sighed heavily,

“No, he’s not showing interest in me. Well, he’s always had interest in me… but the only thing he’s interested in is making my life terrible!”

She laughed,

“Maybe he just wants you to give him a chance. You know, he is telling everyone that you’re his wife.”

You spat out your water at that. Somehow you upgraded from girlfriend to fucking WIFE? He was surely trying to ruin your chances at teen romance just because of this stupid unwarranted grudge. You couldn’t let this happen!

You let it happen. You find yourself now, twenty years old, looking back at school with frustration. You never got a boyfriend (At least not one that you agreed to have). You hadn’t even had your first kiss! Even worse, you were still a virgin! Even worse x3, you still saw Bakugou way too often.

Somehow, whenever you were on patrol, he’d pop up. He was aggravating with his words as he followed you down the street. Your speed walking could never live up to his strides. He caught up to you easily, no matter how fast you paced.

“Why were you talking to that creep at the donut shop?”

It was so ridiculous of a question that you couldn’t hold back from answering.

“Because I wanted some fucking donuts. Also, he’s not a creep.”

Bakugou scoffed,

“I saw how he looked at you while he made those creme filled donuts. He was probably thinking about how he wanted to creme stuff my girlfriend too-“

Your face heated as you cut his vulgar comment off.

“If anything, you’re the creep for even insinuating that he was considering that! Also, I’m still not your girlfriend!”

He gave an annoyed sigh,

“When will you stop saying that? ‘I’m not your girlfriend’. We’ve been over this since middle school. You’re also my wife.”

You were too tired for this. You had hardly any sleep last night because of the mountain of reports you procrastinated and you haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. You only had an hour left of your shift before you could go home and power off in your bed. You hoped that you could even drive in this condition.

“Stop following me. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.”

“Watch your step dumb-“

When did you even get on the pavement? And why were you in an alley? Your eyes struggled to stay open as you were dragged up from the concrete.

“What the fuck? When’s the last time you slept?”

You didn’t even have the energy to argue with him. It felt good to lean against him after dragging your feet all day.

“I dunno.”

Everything went blank after that. Now you’ve found yourself in an unknown bed, in the middle of the night. You’ve never felt more relaxed in your life, whether its from the comfortable mattress or the strong arms wrapped around you.

Wait… arms?

You spring up at the realization that you have no idea where you are. You quickly look around to find exits but it’s too dark.

“Fucking relax, its just me.”

Bakugou’s voice, and you just now realize, his smell too. Bakugou grabs you before you can fully jump out of the bed.

“Let go of me!”

“You can whine about this in the morning. I’m tired and I know you’re tired too. Sleep.”

He cradles you in his arms so securely that theres no chance of you getting out. Your panic switches to fatigue at his body heat. The way he begins to play with your hair and the sound of him breathing have you surrendering faster than you’d care to admit. Your eyes flutter shut against Bakugou’s chest.

Maybe you can be your bully’s girlfriend just for tonight.