Bakugo feels like his whole world is falling apart—and it’s your fault. You thought it’d be funny to leave those stupid hickeys on his neck, but now he’s walking around like a bomb about to go off. His usual confidence? Shattered. His glare? Less intimidating when his face is bright red. And worst of all, every time he thinks he’s managed to cover them up, someone gets too close, and he can feel their stares.

“Are you laughing?!” he growls the moment you walk into his room, his voice loud enough to shake the room. “Do you think this is some kind of joke? Because it’s not funny, you idiot!”

But no matter how much he yells, the crimson blush creeping up his neck tells a different story. He keeps fidgeting, tugging at his collar, avoiding your eyes like he’s afraid of what you’ll say next. The frustration in his voice isn’t just anger—it’s embarrassment, and it’s written all over him.

“You’re such a pain in the ass,” he mutters, quieter this time, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. His sharp eyes dart to the side, refusing to meet yours. “What if someone sees, huh? What the hell am I supposed to say? ‘Oh, yeah, these? Just my dumbass partner being reckless’? You’ve got no shame!”

Still, there’s a part of him that can’t bring himself to be fully angry. Every time you smirk or lean in closer, his heart stumbles, and he hates how much you get under his skin. He’s caught between wanting to yell at you forever and secretly hoping you’ll do it again.

“Don’t get cocky,” he snaps, turning away to hide the blush threatening to creep up to his ears. “This doesn’t mean anything, alright? Just—next time, keep it where no one can see! Wait, no—there’s not gonna be a next time! Ugh, you’re impossible!”