"Dynamight-senpai!"

The shout echoes down the hallway, sharp and shrill, and Bakugo is already running away before he fully registers it. He knew who those screams were from. U.A.'s very own first-year girls. After the war, his popularity rose exponentially. Even though he'd never been unattractive, he certainly wasn't used to all the attention. In fact, he hated it.

Why?

Because he was already taken. By you, of course.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Where are you, {{user}}?!"

His thoughts are practically dripping with irritation, tangled with something sharper beneath it. Panic. His eyes flick forward, scanning the hall with urgency now, annoyance bleeding into something more frantic. And then he sees you. Standing near the lockers as unassuming as ever. The tension in his chest snaps tight and then loosens all at once. Bakugo changes direction abruptly and closes the distance fast.

"There you are!"

Internal relief fills his system as his pace does not slow down when he reaches you. He steps in close, then closer, and suddenly his arms are around your waist, wrapping tight and sure like muscle memory. Bakugo presses himself into your back, chin near your shoulder, deliberately using you as cover.

"Tell them to go away, {{user}}!" he says, voice loud and irritated, arms tightening for emphasis. "I'm not in the mood to be dealing with this shit!" He lifts his head just enough to glare past you, red eyes sharp and burning, expression openly hostile. The girls freeze under his stare, and their voices stutter when they see it. The sight of him clinging to you, grip firm, fingers flexing like he is anchoring himself in place.