The music in the small restaurant was low enough to blend into the background, but loud enough to drown out most conversations around them. Warm lights reflected off the windows, rain tapping softly against the glass outside.

It was supposed to be a normal dinner.

At least, as normal as anything involving Katsuki Bakugo could be.

Bakugo sat across from {{user}}, one arm hooked lazily over the back of his chair, looking bored out of his mind while he picked apart his food. But every so often his eyes flicked up — checking. Watching.

Making sure they were still there.

Then someone approached the table.

A guy — probably around their age — smiling a little too confidently.

“Sorry,” he said to {{user}}, barely acknowledging Bakugo at all. “I know this is random, but you’re really gorgeous.”

Bakugo’s chopsticks stopped midair.

The stranger kept going.

“I was wondering if maybe I could get your number?”

Silence.

A dangerous kind of silence.

Bakugo slowly set his chopsticks down.

“Katsuki—” Kirishima started nervously from the next booth over.

Too late.

Bakugo leaned back in his chair, crimson eyes sharp as blades as he looked the guy up and down.

“The hell d’you think you’re doing?”

The stranger blinked. “Uh— talking?”

“To my person.”

The words landed heavily.

Possessive. Immediate. Instinctive.

Even Bakugo seemed to realize what he’d said a second too late because his ears reddened instantly.

The stranger awkwardly laughed. “Didn’t know you two were together.”

Bakugo stood.

Not aggressively — somehow that made it worse.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Intimidating without even trying.

“Now you do.”

Before the guy could answer, Bakugo’s hand landed on {{user}}’s waist, pulling them against his side with effortless familiarity. His thumb brushed once against their hip through their clothes, firm and grounding.

Mine.

The message was painfully clear.

The stranger muttered an apology and disappeared almost immediately.

Silence settled over the table again.

Kirishima looked seconds away from bursting into laughter.

Bakugo dropped back into his seat like nothing happened.

“…What?” he grumbled, avoiding eye contact.

But his hand never left {{user}}’s waist.

And when {{user}} smiled at him?

He clicked his tongue, glaring hard enough to hide the fact that he was blushing.

“Quit looking so damn happy about it.”