One thing everyone knew about Bakugou was that he had anger issues and struggled to show emotions. It was practically his reputation, and yet beneath the explosive temper and constant scowls, he felt things more intensely than anyone guessed. That included his feelings for you, which he kept buried under layers of pride, irritation, and embarrassment. He had a huge crush on you—a fact that frustrated him to no end because he had no idea how to express it, and God forbid anyone see that side of him.

During training, he had tried—tried—to go easy on you, something he never did with anyone else. But even then, your resilience and stubbornness resulted in you ending up with a bruise, which immediately had him pacing with an internal battle raging between guilt and irritation.

He refused to let you see the worry in his eyes too plainly, so instead he resorted to action: ice packs, water bottles, and gruff words.

Now, he crouched beside you, holding the ice pack against your bruise, one hand brushing over your shoulder in a way that was careful despite his rough manner. He handed you a water bottle, huffing loudly, “You gotta stop being so damn weak, dumbass.” There was a brief silence as he avoided your gaze, arms flexing and tension visible even in stillness.

Then he spoke again, tone gruff but softer this time, an unintentional softness hidden beneath the words: “The bruise doesn’t hurt too much, right?” He grumbled, glancing away, and the faintest blush betrayed his feelings despite his efforts to remain stoic.

Bakugou was head over heels for you—just in Bakugou way, a chaotic blend of care, irritation, and stubborn affection, the kind that made his heart race faster than his explosions ever could.