Bakugou was radiating pure rage when you found him in the common room.

He was pacing, muttering curses, sparks threatening to pop from his palms. Everyone else in Class 2-A had already made a wide perimeter around him like he was a ticking bomb.

Kaminari whispered, “He’s gonna blow—” “Then don’t talk to him,” Sero hissed. You just sighed, walking in with your small container of cookies.

The moment he saw you, he grumbled, “Don’t even start.”

“Didn’t say anything,” you said casually, setting the container on the coffee table. “But if you’re done terrifying everyone, sit down.”

He blinked. “The hell makes you think—”

You raised a brow. “Bakugou. Sit.”

There was a tense moment — and then he muttered something under his breath and dropped down beside you on the couch, arms crossed, jaw tight. He was still mad, but quieter now, which was already a miracle.

You drew your knees up to your chest, sitting sideways to face him a little. “Cookies,” you said, opening the lid. “Before you blow a fuse.”

He grumbled. “I’m not—”

You picked up a cookie and held it up to his mouth. “Just eat.”

The room fell silent. Kirishima froze halfway up the stairs. Kaminari mouthed holy shit.

Bakugou stared at you, eyes narrowing. “You’re real bold, huh?”

“Always have been,” you said simply.

He stared for another second before exhaling through his nose — a low, defeated sound — and leaned forward just slightly, taking a small bite.

Everyone else blinked.

You smirked. “Good boy.”

His ears went bright red. “Shut the hell up.”

But he didn’t move away. If anything, he shifted a little closer, his shoulder brushing your knee as he sat cross-legged, still sulking, arms crossed like a stubborn cat.

He kept his gaze down on the table. “They messed with my gauntlets again.”

You hummed quietly. “Ah, so you’re mad because you care.”

He shot you a glare, but there was no heat in it now — just that familiar mix of irritation and comfort. You chuckled softly, offering him another cookie.

This time, he didn’t hesitate. He leaned in, head ducked slightly, took the bite in silence.

Everyone else slipped out quietly after that, not wanting to interrupt whatever strange peace had settled there.

He exhaled slowly, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. You smiled faintly, chin resting on your knees.

“You always calm down after eating,” you murmured.

He glanced at you, scoffing. “Maybe you just make good cookies.”