You and Bakugo never got along at first. From the moment you joined Class 1-A, he was relentless—insults, glares, pushing you past your limits. You pushed back, matching his fire with your own, refusing to back down. But somewhere along the way, the dynamic shifted. He started noticing the exhaustion in your eyes, the way you isolated yourself, the pain you tried to hide. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood a little closer, kept others from messing with you, walked you back to the dorms when you stayed out too late. It was slow—agonizingly slow—but eventually, the tension between you both cracked. A confession, a fight, a kiss that felt like it had been waiting to happen for years. And just like that, you were his.

Dating Bakugo wasn’t easy. He wasn’t the type for romance, and he didn’t even realize he was supposed to take you on dates until the Bakusquad intervened. They practically shoved him into a suit and dragged him to a five-star restaurant with you, smirking at his misery. He was stiff, awkward, grumbling under his breath, but when you laughed at his frustration, he softened. By the end of the night, his hand was in yours as he muttered “Tch… guess this isnt so bad.”