You're forced into marriage with him but he hates you
Written by me and all copyrights reserved
You woke up to the sound of yelling. It was Bakugou, as usual.
"What the hell are you doing, you useless waste of space?" he shouted.
You flinched at his words, but you didn't dare say anything back. You were married to Bakugou, but it wasn't a marriage of love. It was a forced marriage, arranged by your families.
You had never liked Bakugou. He was arrogant, explosive, and always put you down. But you had no choice but to marry him. Your family was powerful, and they would never let you marry anyone else.
You got out of bed and went to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You were a mess. Your hair was a tangled mess, and your eyes were red from crying.
You went back to your room and got dressed. You tried to ignore Bakugou's yelling, but it was impossible. He was always yelling, always putting you down.
"You're so pathetic," he said. "You're nothing but a burden to me."
You wanted to tell him to go to hell, but you knew that would only make him angrier. So you just kept quiet and took it.
You spent the rest of the day doing what Bakugou told you to do. You cleaned the house, cooked the food, and did his laundry. You were nothing more than his servant.
In the evening, Bakugou came home and started yelling again. He was always drunk when he came home, and he was always angry.
"Why are you so useless?" he shouted. "Why can't you do anything right?"
You wanted to cry, but you held back your tears. You knew that crying would only make Bakugou angrier.
"I'm so tired of you," he said. "I wish I had never married you."
You didn't know what to say. You were just as tired of this marriage as he was, but you knew that it would never end. You were trapped in this marriage for life.
One day, Your parents had invited you both to a family dinner.
As you sat at the dinner table, the tension in the air was palpable. Your parents, oblivious to the storm brewing between you and Bakugou, exchanged pleasantries with his family. You, on the other hand, could barely swallow the food in your mouth, your eyes darting nervously between Bakugou's glowering face and the expectant glances of your parents.
Suddenly, Bakugou reached across the table and grabbed your hand. You flinched at his touch, but he didn't let go. Instead, he pulled you towards him, his eyes burning with an intensity that made you shiver.
"Kiss me," he growled, his voice barely a whisper.
You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe he was asking you to do this, not in front of your parents, not after everything he'd said and done. But you were trapped, his grip on your hand like a vise.
Slowly, reluctantly, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his. It was a brief, perfunctory kiss, devoid of any emotion, but it was enough to send shockwaves through the room.
Your parents gasped, their eyes wide with surprise. Bakugou's family smiled smugly, their arms crossed in satisfaction. As for you, you felt sick, your stomach churning with humiliation and disgust.
When the kiss was over, Bakugou released your hand and smirked. You wanted to wipe his kiss off your lips, to erase the memory of his touch, but you knew you wouldn't. You were stuck in this charade, forced to play the part of the loving wife, even though your heart was breaking.
As the dinner continued, you forced a smile onto your face, pretending to be happy for your parents' sake. But inside, you were shattered, your spirit crushed by the weight of your forced marriage.
As the dinner drew to a close, you retreated to the privacy of your room, your mind reeling from the events of the evening. The forced kiss, the humiliation, the overwhelming sense of helplessness – it was all too much to bear.
You curled up on your bed, tears streaming down your face. You felt trapped, like a bird with clipped wings, unable to escape the suffocating confines of your forced marriage.
Just as you were about to succumb to despair, a knock on the door startled you. It was Bakugou.
He stood awkwardly in the doorway, his eyes filled with a mix of guilt and regret. You watched him warily, unsure of what to expect.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "I had no right to pressure you into that kiss."
His words were like a balm to your wounded soul. You hadn't expected him to apologize, and his genuine remorse took you by surprise.
"I know it was wrong," he continued, his voice gaining strength. "I shouldn't have used our parents' dinner as a stage for my own selfish desires."
You listened in silence, your heart softening with each word. He seemed so different from the arrogant, domineering boy you had married.
"I just wanted to make them happy," he confessed, his voice laced with self-loathing. "I wanted them to see us as a loving couple, even if it was just for a moment."
You understood his desperation, his desire to prove himself worthy of their approval. But you also knew that his actions had caused you immense pain.
"You should have thought about how it would make me feel," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.
Bakugou's eyes met yours, and you saw a flicker of understanding in their depths. He reached out and gently took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring.
"I was wrong, [Your Name]," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I hurt you, and I'm truly sorry."
You looked into his eyes, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the vulnerable boy beneath the hardened exterior. He was struggling, just like you, trapped in a web of expectations and societal pressures.
In that moment, you felt a surge of compassion for him. You reached out and cupped his face, your touch gentle and tender.
"I forgive you, Katsuki," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.
He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as he sought solace in your presence. In that moment, amidst the chaos and turmoil of your forced marriage, a flicker of hope ignited, a fragile promise of a future where perhaps, just perhaps, understanding and compassion could bridge the chasm between two wounded souls.
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