00:00:00 forceship sum more?
SEND ME “00:00:00″ FOR A SOULMATE COUNTDOWN AU
☆ — she hears him before she sees him.
he is loud, crude, and most of all; he does not appear to be concerned with the rapidly counting down timer on his wrist.
don’t let it be him, please.
she sends up a short prayer before entering her new classroom. avoiding any and all eye contact as she moves towards her designated seat.
someone shrieks, having found their homeroom teacher bundled up in a mustard yellow sleeping bag. her head snaps up.
her heart skips a beat when they make eye contact. the timer on her wrist officially has gone down to zero, and she is face to face with her destined soulmate. he has ash blond hair, and red eyes. he looks at her, longer than he glances at the rest of their classmates, before averting his gaze again. for the remainder of the glass, he doesn’t spare her a single other glance. she knows, because he is all she can look at.
he corners her by the end of the school day, presses her into a corner and speaks in a hushed voice, almost as though he is afraid anyone else will hear them.
❝i decide my own fucking destiny,❞ he tells her, ❝no countdown, clock, or wrist is going to tell me who i belong to, goddamnit. you can treat your wrist as though it doesn’t exist, it doesn’t to me.❞
he leaves her with that. cold, harsh words, and not a second glance to spare.
she resorts to wearing wristbands over her counter, and avoiding the subject as smoothly as she can.
it was a busy day. it could have been anyone. but we’ll meet again, right?
she learns how to tell these lies, sometimes while katsuki bakugou is within hearing. he doesn’t acknowledge her, doesn’t show any signs of discomfort, or regret. to him, she is just another face in the crowd. another stepping stone on his path to becoming the number one hero.
during their fight at the sports festival, he acts no different. there is no indication that the string of fate has bound them together, other than the fact that their names show up on the screens adorning the arena. he beats her; but she does not go down without a fight. not this time.
she wishes it was as easy for her as it was for him.
every time she sees him, her stomach churns, like she’s over-used her quirk. she feels like throwing up, or crying. probably both. it hurts, and she is desperate for relief.
relief comes with the name midoriya izuku, the green haired, plain looking boy who had saved her on the day of the entrance exam. he holds her hand, and lets her cry on his shoulder. he tells her that kacchan has always been this way. he tells her that, while they are not destined by fate, they were fated to meet regardless. he wipes away her tears, and tells her it’s okay.
you can decide your own fate too.
they kiss, once. it is awkward, and clumsy. it is comforting, but doesn’t cause butterflies. izuku’s timer is set to go off in a few weeks, so it is fruitless. they promise to never do it again after that. he is fated to her by a different string. yellow, or green. he is not red, like katsuki.
it is two days later that she is cornered by him once more. same deserted spot in school, same angry figure looming over her. this time, he is not quiet. his hands come up, cup her face, and force her to look at him. she would struggle, but his hands on her skin render her motionless. he is close, so close. her wrist aches, tells her; this is how it’s meant to be.
❝fuck you,❞ he spits. ❝fuck you, and fuck fucking deku. i know what the fuck you did. why the fuck, out of all people, with him? did you have fun? was this what you fucking wanted?❞
she lets him rage, allows for him to let out all of his anger. when he’s done, she does nothing but look up, ❝what are you trying to say?❞
❝you’re mine. you’ve always been fucking mine. fuck you, round face.❞
❝i thought you didn’t believe in timers, clocks and countdowns on wrists,❞ she retaliates. the scent of nitroglycerin becomes more pungent, and she knows he’s holding back.
❝if that’s all you had to say, then i would like to go now,❞ she fights to be strong, but he wins. again.
large hands pull her closer, his lips on hers are urgent. needy. like they’re kissing away every trace of the person who was there before him. his kiss tastes like regret, like remorse, and ochako might just be ready to forgive him.
❝i don’t,❞ he says once he’s pulled away to gasp for air, ❝i fucking decided you are mine.❞
she is unable to fight the grin that breaks through on her features, heart beating fast.
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