Katsuki bakugou

The entire apartment smelled heavily of sweet, warm vanilla and cedar—a overwhelming wave of your omega scent that had been blanketing the living room for days. Ever since the two of you got back from your honeymoon, you’d been glued to Bakugo’s side, picking fights with any hero agency intern who brushed against him, demanding his workout shirts to sleep in, and dragging him into bed every chance you got.

Bakugo, predictably, thought you were just being extra needy and annoying.

Right now, he was sitting on the edge of the couch in a tank top, toweling off his damp blonde hair after a shower. You were practically tucked into his lap, arms wrapped tight around his waist, burying your nose into the scent gland at his neck.

"God, stop fucking suffocating me," Bakugo grumbled, though he didn't actually push you away. His large, calloused hand rested heavily on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing idly against your spine. "You've been acting like a leech for two weeks. I can't even sit down for five minutes without you climbing all over me."

He grunted, turning his head slightly to glare down at you with crimson eyes, though his alpha instinct was lazily responding to your heavy scent, releasing a low, soothing trail of burnt nitroglycerin to calm you down.

"What the hell is up with you lately anyway?" Bakugo grunted, grabbing your chin lightly to tilt your face up. "You're possessive as shit, snapping at the extra at the grocery store yesterday just for looking at me, and your scent is so thick it's giving me a damn headache. If you're going into an early heat, just spit it out so I can clear my schedule."

You felt the small, crisp digital test hidden in your hoodie pocket. You squeezed your eyes shut for a second, feeling the sudden, overwhelming swell of omega instincts rushing through you before looking back up at your husband.

The moment Bakugo unlocked the front door, he barely had time to toss his gym bag onto the floor before you were on him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a deep, desperate kiss before he could even take his boots off. Bakugo let out a muffled groan of surprise against your lips, his hands instinctively catching your hips to keep you steady as he kissed you back—rough, hot, and demanding—before pulling back with a scowl, breathing heavily.

"Tch... the hell is wrong with you?" Bakugo barked, his face flush with heat, though his eyes burned dark with pride at how desperate you were for him. "I just walked through the door! Let me at least take off my damn shoes!"

He didn't let go of your hips, though. In fact, his hands tightened, pulling your body flush against his. Over the last month, your behavior had been completely out of control. You’d gotten wildly defensive if he smelled like other heroes after patrols, your drive had been insatiable, and your scent was so potent it was driving his instincts crazy.

Bakugo narrowed his eyes, sniffing the air sharply. Your omega scent was practically dripping off the walls—sweeter, richer, and far more intense than usual.

"You're driving me fucking crazy with this shit," Bakugo muttered, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your lips. "You've been clingy as hell, jumping my bones every night, and staring at me like you wanna bite my throat out every time I talk to someone else. What, you finally realized how lucky you are to have a top hero as a mate?"

He smirked, a cocky, arrogant grin, totally oblivious. He had no idea that the real reason your instincts were on high alert was resting safely in your pocket—a positive test confirming why your body had been desperately claiming him as its protector.

It was 2:00 AM, and the bedroom was a total disaster of Bakugo’s laundry.

Bakugo blinked his eyes open, groaning as he felt the chill of the sheets next to him. He sat up, rubbing his face, only to find you sitting in the corner of the room on the floor, surrounded by every single shirt, hoodie, and blanket he owned, meticulous weaving them into a heavy, scent-logged nest.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Bakugo rasped, his voice rough with sleep as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "It's two in the morning. What the hell are you doing on the floor with all my clothes?"

He walked over, dropping down onto his knees in front of your nest. When he reached out to pull a dark hoodie out of your hands, you let out a low, subconscious omega whine and yanked it back, clutching it to your chest and glaring at him with fierce, tear-filled eyes.

Bakugo froze, his jaw slackening in shock. You had never growled or whined at him over a shirt before.

"Hey... calm the fuck down," Bakugo said, his tone softening instantly into a low, rumbling alpha tone meant to soothe you. He held his hands up defensively, stepping right into the middle of your nest and sitting down, pulling you forcefully into his chest so your nose was pressed against his neck. "I'm right here. Nobody's taking shit from you. Jesus, you've been a total mess lately."

He wrapped his thick arms tightly around you, buried his face in your hair, and took a deep breath of your scent.

"High sex drive, moody as hell, hoarding my clothes, snapping at anyone who comes within five feet of me..." Bakugo grunted, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. "You're acting crazy, brat. What's going on in that head of yours?"

You reached out, your trembling fingers brushing against the plastic strip tucked inside your sleeve, ready to show him.

The gym inside your apartment was suffocatingly hot. Bakugo was sitting on a weight bench, dripping sweat, breathing heavily after a high-intensity workout. He was stripped down to his compression shorts, his muscles flushed and gleaming under the fluorescent light.

You hadn't even let him finish his cooldown before you straddled his lap.

"Damn it, slow down," Bakugo growled, his voice thick as he caught your wrists, though he didn't pull you off him. His hands were shaking slightly from exertion, but his alpha instincts were practically purring at how aggressively you were rubbing your cheek against his jaw, scent-marking every inch of his neck and shoulders. "I'm covered in sweat. Get off for two minutes so I can shower."

You whined low in your throat, ignoring him completely, digging your fingers into his shoulders to keep him anchored to you. For the past three weeks, you couldn't stand being away from his scent for more than an hour. You had dragged him into bed twice already today, snarled at his hero agency sidekick over the phone for keeping him late, and insisted on holding his hand everywhere in public.

Bakugo let out a rough, breathy chuckle, his crimson eyes smoldering as he loosened his grip on your wrists, letting his hands slide down to grip your waist tightly.

"You're out of your damn mind lately," Bakugo muttered, leaning in to press a harsh, possessive kiss against the side of your neck, inhaling your sweet, warm omega scent. "Can't keep your hands off me, biting at anyone who gets too close... What, did you get hooked on me or something? You're acting like a wild animal."

He smirked, completely smug, totally convinced your sudden possessiveness and insatiable heat was just deep adoration for him as your mate. He had no idea your body was acting on pure, protective instinct because of the positive test tucked into your pants pocket.

The sharp clatter of a glass hitting the counter echoed through the kitchen.

Bakugo was glaring down at his phone, his jaw set in a tight line. "I told you, it was just a joint patrol with Kirishima and Mina! Why the hell are you making such a big deal out of it?"

"Because you came back smelling like her!" the words spilled out of you before you could stop them, your omega instincts flaring up red-hot with irrational jealousy.

Bakugo blinked, his crimson eyes widening in genuine disbelief before a dark, amused grin slowly spread across his face. "Are you fucking serious right now? Mina? She's married, you idiot! We've known her since high school!"

He took two heavy steps forward, closing the distance between you and backing you up against the kitchen island. He caged you in with his arms, leaning down until his nose was brushing yours. His scent—heavy, warm, and rich with burnt sugar—flooded your senses, instantly trying to overpower your distress.

"You've been insane all week," Bakugo rasped, his voice dropping an octave, heavy with smug alpha pride. "Checking my suit, whining every time I leave the house, demanding my clothes, wanting me inside you every damn night... You're practically territorial."

He reached out, his thumb catching your lower lip and tugging it down gently. "What's really going on, huh? Spit it out, brat. Why are you acting like someone's gonna steal me from you?"

You felt your heart hammering against your ribs. Your hand instinctively moved to cover your lower stomach, the tiny digital result still fresh in your mind.

Bakugo stood in front of the bathroom mirror, fastening the belt of his hero uniform. He looked up in the mirror's reflection to see you standing in the doorway, wrapped tightly in his thickest winter hoodie—a shirt that drowned your frame.

"I'm heading out. First aid briefing at the agency, then street patrol," Bakugo grunted, turning around to grab his gauntlets off the counter.

Before he could take a step, you blocked the door, reaching out to clutch the front of his uniform shirt. The overwhelming, rich sweetness of your omega scent filled the small bathroom, so thick it made Bakugo’s eyes narrow in surprise.

"Tch. Again?" Bakugo sighed, though his hands automatically went to your waist, pulling you against his chest. "I have to go to work, extra. You've been glued to my side for a month. I can't even put my boots on without you hovering over me."

He tilted your chin up with two calloused fingers, looking down at your flushed face. "Your scent is changing, too. It's too damn sweet. It's driving me fucking crazy." He pressed a hard, lingering kiss to your forehead, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. "If you're going into an early rut-cycle heat, you're gonna have to wait till tonight. Understand?"

He leaned back, waiting for you to scold him or nod, completely unaware that your body's scent shift wasn't a heat at all—and that you weren't going to let him leave the house until he knew why.