You’re married to Katsuki Bakugo, both of you settled in Japan in a home you actually chose together instead of just crashing into each other’s chaos like in your younger years.
Y/N lives thirty-seven floors above downtown Chicago in a penthouse that always smells faintly like expensive candles, old leather, and weed. The apartment looks less like a home and more like a photoshoot someone forgot to clean up after — cream couches, dark wood, vintage magazines left open on glass tables, fur throws she bought on impulse at two in the morning, low amber lighting that makes everyone prettier than they really are.