It was the groceries. Of course it was the groceries.

Y/n could feel it. That familiar prickle under their skin. Their omega instincts stirring like a cat that just spotted something annoying perched on a shelf.

And Bakugou? Bakugou was standing there with his arms crossed, smelling like victory and faint smoke, completely unaware that he was currently poking a very sleepy, very grumpy bear with a very sharp stick.

The kind of silence that usually precedes either a kiss or a catastrophe.