today i am thinking about. like. soulmate/arranged marriage au with bakugou.
it's common to get married once you find your pre-destined other half, bc there isn't anyone else out there for you, anyway, and it takes a little while for you and him to come across one another. late twenties even, and by this time, you're both so sure you're defective and that it will never happen and have given up completely on ever knowing what love is.
(you — a painfully average human being — having to be pried from your car after a minor accident. by pro-hero dynamight. and he touches you and you touch him and an oven timer goes off in your head. some box is checked deep inside your heart. both of you, at the exact same time, think: oh. it's you.
and then you're left standing at an intersection, awkwardly staring at one another as you're swarmed by media and fans and the other driver of the car, who is demanding all your insurance information.)
your wedding night is — boring; you sleep with your back to one another and don't say much beyond half-hearted conversation. he looks angry or deep in thought 99% of the time, frowning, and even though you knew that from seeing him on tv for years, it's more intimidating up close and in your face.
dynamight — bakugou — is gone a lot of the time, with work, leaving you alone in his nice three-bedroom more often than not. it's comforting almost, because you don't particularly feel anything for this man and you're allowed to expand in his space without being under his metallic gaze, making it your own as you please.
it's not unusual for you to fall asleep without him in a big, empty bed, untouched and unbothered — though he doesn't do either even when he's in it. he keeps his distance and you want him to, for now at least; you kissed once during the ceremony and a handful of times after that, when it felt right: after he made you dinner, two weeks into your marriage; when he got in from dubai after being gone for 12 days; you met kirishima and ashido recently — finally, they said — and he'd surprised you in the garage afterwards, leaning a little more into it than he typically does, though you think his two, small glasses of something amber and sweet at dinner might have helped with that.
not this morning though. because you'd been more than half asleep and hadn't even noticed him all night and therefore weren't even prepared to say goodbye. a hand at on your shoulder, maybe, before he left and then —
and then mina called. to tell you what happened. what hospital. how bad it was.
"he's uh—" you're blank, voice lost under the chatter of the emergency room, blinking at the receptionist in surprise. all the beeping and the squeak of shoes across the linoleum, the hurried instruction and calls for clear! are making you — "bakugou, he's uh—katsuki is—"
you're feeling a lot of things, and nothing, all at once. mostly regret, furious with yourself at the simple fact that you didn't even wake up properly to tell him goodbye, to have a nice day, that you never do. it's been almost half a year and you haven't even called him by his first name to his face, haven't given him permission to call you by yours. he's never seen you naked and you've been too scared to know if you even wanted him to.
you've been complacent in the distance and now it's getting further and further, as a machine flatlines just down the hall.
"my wife,"
when you turn, katsuki's standing across the lobby, peeking out from a room that's much quieter, that looks less intense. half of his face is bandaged up and his arm is in a sling, but — he looks —
"she's my wife," he croaks again, and mina appears, too, cringing under the heated glare he gives her. "told you 'm fine."
you feel a lot of things, all at once, but when he fixes you with his sleepy, half-lidded gaze, blinking soft and slow and gentle, you think: oh. of course it's you.
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