ellie

But if he was being honest, nothing turned him on more than the thought of feeling you completely. Your hot, silky walls squeezing him bare, skin on skin, no barrier between him and that perfect pussy. He knew you’d feel fucking insane.

So when you finally whispered that you wanted it too, your boyfriend was over the moon. The first time he slid into you unprotected, it felt like a door to heaven had been opened for him. As long as he pulled out, as long as he stayed careful… everything would be fine, right?

Tonight, after a long, brutal day of patrols, Katsuki came home to you already sprawled lazily on the bed in that tiny two-piece pajama set he loved, the one that barely covered your ass. He was freshly showered, still damp, muscles aching, and all he wanted was to bury himself in you. He scoffed at the way you’d made him shower first, but the second he climbed onto the bed, you swung a leg over and straddled his lap. His hands turned greedy instantly, grabbing your waist, squeezing your ass, kneading and claiming every inch of you like he’d been starving for it.

“Fuck, you’re already wet,” he growled, voice low and rough. His fingers rubbed over the damp spot on your panties, pressing the fabric against your slit. Impatient as always, he shoved the fabric aside and dragged two thick digits along your slick folds before pushing the tips inside.

A low groan rumbled in his chest at how soaked you were. Just from kissing and a little groping, your pussy was dripping for him. His dick throbbed hard against the waistband of his boxers, leaking and aching to be freed. He deepened the kiss, tongue sliding against yours as he sank both fingers into your tight heat. You moaned into his mouth, the wet, filthy sound of his fingers pumping in and out mixing with your heavy breathing. He curled them just right, stroking that spongy spot inside you that made your back arch.

“Y’so fucking wet for me, baby,” he muttered against your lips, voice gravelly. “This pussy’s been begging for me, hasn’t it?”

You nodded, dazed, fingers tangled in his hair. Your hips rolled against his hand, chasing the pleasure. He pumped faster, scissoring his fingers, stretching you open while his thumb found your swollen clit.

You were already trembling when he finally slid them out. With a low grunt, Katsuki gripped your hips and flipped you onto your back in one smooth motion. He settled between your spread thighs, keeping your panties pushed tightly to the side, the thin fabric still framing your dripping pussy.

He pulled at his waistband and his thick, heavy length sprang free. His tip was flushed dark pink and dripping pre-cum. He stroked himself once, twice, staring down at your glistening pussy like a man starved.

“Been thinking about this all damn day,” he rasped, lining himself up. His fat head nudged your entrance, teasing your folds. He pushed in slowly, savoring every inch as your walls fluttered and clenched around him. The raw heat of you made his eyes roll back.

“Fuck…” he hissed through gritted teeth. He set a hard rhythm right away, hips snapping forward, driving deep. Your back arched off the bed with every thrust, moans spilling from your lips as he fucked you into the mattress. One hand pinned your thigh wide while the other braced beside your head. Every powerful thrust made your tits bounce under your little pajama top, something that sent Bakugou even further over the edge.

“Been cravin’ you like a fuckin’ animal,” he groaned, leaning down into your neck.

You moaned, the sound shameless and needy as he filled you so perfectly. The stretch was overwhelming in the best way, pleasure bordering on too much. You stayed like that for a few more moments, rocking back against him, before he pulled out with a low curse.

In one swift motion he flipped you onto your stomach, your ass slightly raised just enough for him to bully his hips into you. Your white cotton panties were still on, the soaked fabric bunched and shoved roughly to the side, the edge digging into your skin as he stretched you open again. He knelt between your spread thighs, one strong hand gripped your hip, the other palmed the curve of your ass, holding you exactly where he wanted you.

“Fuck.” He groaned, voice low and rough. His eyes were locked on where your slick pussy swallowed him, the lacy trim of your ruined panties rubbing against his shaft with every thrust. “Look at you… taking me like this with your panties still on.”

You loved the feeling of Katsuki inside you, even more when he got hot and heavy, muttering dirty things in your ear, it only made you want to do it back. You turned your head to the side so that you could peer at him, the sight of him making you wetter. “You want to come inside so bad, right Katsuki?” You panted, gazing back at him with a needy expression that drove him wild. Another wet thrust made you whimper.

His rhythm faltered for a second before he rocked back harder, a low rumble escaping his chest. Ever since he’d confessed his breeding kink, you’d turned into a fucking menace. You’d made it your personal goal to break him every single time he fucked you raw, whispering filthy little encouragements, clenching around him on purpose, begging him to fill you up, to knock you up, to give you exactly what he was dying to give. He both hated and loved it.

He glanced down between your bodies, watching the obscene way your soaked pussy stretched around him. Thick strings of your slick stretched and snapped every time he pulled back, coating his shaft and dripping down to soak the sheets. You were so wet it was embarrassing. So tight he was losing his mind.

You pushed back against him, clenching deliberately around his length. “You want to pump me full” you continued, breathy moans breaking up the words of your pleads, “Make a mess of my pussy.” Your body clenched greedily around him, lost in a haze of pleasure, completely drunk on the fullness of him inside you.

“Shut the fuck up.” He muttered through gritted teeth. The words came out harsh and guttural, the same tone he used when he was seconds away from exploding. He knew if you said another word while he was still inside you he was finished. His hand slapped down on your ass, gripping hard as he sat taller, hips snapping forward with new aggression. The wet, filthy sound of your soaked cunt echoed louder.

You clenched tighter around him, a fresh gush of slick coating his dick and dripping down onto your bunched panties. “But Katsuki..” you whined, voice muffled and needy, deliberately pushing him. “I just need it all in my stomach..I want all of it..please.”

Katsuki didn’t know how he was still breathing, the animalistic side of him had completely taken over. He was always so responsible with you. He was always pulling out, always careful, never letting his fantasies actually risk reality. But tonight you’d pushed every single button, and the sight of you like this, face down, panties shoved to the side, juices spilling from your tight pussy with every thrust, had finally broken him.

He could barely keep it together when he heard your next words. “I’m gonna c-c-c—!” Your sentence shattered into desperate, dry moans as your orgasm hit hard. Your walls spasmed violently around his dick, gushing arousal all over him while your eyes rolled back.

A deep, feral growl ripped out of Katsuki’s chest. He slammed in deep and held himself there as thick and heavy ropes of cum exploded inside you. Pulse after pulse flooded your pussy, filling you with his warm release. Your eyes widened as you looked back at him, half-lidded, and a little scared. He never actually came inside.

He caught that look on your face and it only made him thrust harder. He thrust forward a couple more times before pressing deep, spilling every last drop inside you as he held you close.

You both caught your breath in the same quiet moment, chests still rising and falling together, before you finally spoke. “K-Katsuki…” you stuttered, still breathless, “you came inside…”

He let out a deep breath and pressed his forehead against yours for a moment. “Yeah… I know,” he muttered, voice rough. “Couldn’t help it with you lookin’ like that.”

He lingered just a moment longer, thumb brushing over your hip before he finally pulled out and rolled off the bed. You lay there, warm and glowing, listening to him rummage around the room. He came back moments later with a soft warm cloth and gently cleaned you up, his touch careful.

Bakugou had always been asleep by nine-thirty every night, like clockwork. Now he spent hours staring at the ceiling, sheets twisted around his legs as his mind replayed every conversation you’d ever had, every smile you’d given him, every chance he’d let slip through his fingers. You were still dating that bastard. That thought alone was enough to keep him awake until eleven. Sometimes midnight.

The worst part was that he couldn’t even escape you on his days off. One Saturday afternoon, he ducked into the neighborhood grocery store with nothing more exciting on his list than rice, vegetables, and coffee.

He was halfway through comparing two brands of curry roux when a laugh drifted down the aisle. Your laugh.

His hand froze around the box and against his better judgment, he looked.

There you were. Just a few aisles over, pushing a shopping cart with Lemillion strolling beside you. Bakugou told himself to keep walking.

Instead, he stood there like an idiot, half-hidden behind a display of canned tomatoes, watching as you reached into the cart to steal a grape from an open produce bag. Togota caught you immediately.

“You know we have to pay for those first.”

“I was quality testing.” Bakugou watched you grin so brightly your eyes disappeared.

The idiot beside you laughed, shook his head, and tossed another bunch of grapes into the cart anyway.

Before he could realize it, something ugly had started to twist in Bakugou’s chest. His grip tightened around the curry box hard enough to crumple the cardboard. “…Tch.”

He shoved it back onto the shelf with more force than necessary, turned on his heel, and walked the other direction before either of you had the chance to notice him. He still forgot to buy the coffee.

Of course, the next time Bakugou saw you was after he’d finally convinced himself he was over it. Which was mostly true.

Work had gotten busy. Patrols filled his schedule. He wasn’t lying awake replaying every conversation he’d ever had with you anymore, and he’d even stopped getting irrationally annoyed whenever Toyota’s face showed up on some stupid advertisement. So yeah. He was over you.

It just so happened that his patrol route took him past your school every now and then. And it just so happened that, lately, he’d been taking the longer way back. It was quieter, less traffic, better for patrols. Or at least that was what he told himself.

Rain hammered against the sidewalk as Bakugou rounded the corner, the black underlayer of his hero costume still clinging to him after patrol. Most of his gear had already been packed away, leaving him with nothing but the steady rhythm of rain against the pavement.

Then he saw you. You stood beneath the awning at the front entrance of the school, your tote bag tucked against your side as you stared out at the parking lot. For a moment, you looked completely content just watching the storm.

When you noticed him, your face brightened. “Oh, hi.”

His eyes flicked toward the rain before returning to you. “You waiting for something?”

You glanced toward the parking lot and laughed softly. “I’m kind of stranded.”

His gaze followed yours. Rain poured down in sheets, flooding the pavement and making it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead.

“Forgot an umbrella?”

“The forecast said it wouldn’t rain today, I swear!” You joked, throwing your hands up defensively.

A quiet scoff escaped him. “Yeah? Guess you trusted it too much.”

Your smile widened. “Maybe I like the rain.”

Of course you did. You were the type of person who could get caught in a storm and somehow find something nice about it.

“…You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, but he was already pulling out his phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting you a ride.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yeah, I do.” Bakugou paused, jaw tightening slightly before he looked away. “You’re standing outside a school in the middle of a damn storm. I’m not leaving you here.”

Despite your protests, he arranged for a driver to take you home safely. When the car finally arrived, you turned back toward him before getting inside.

“Thank you, Dynamight.” You said, giggling before turning back and getting into the car.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking away like the rain was suddenly interesting. “Yeah. Whatever. Get home safe.”

The driver’s car pulled away into the rainstorm, leaving Bakugou standing there under the shelter, eyes fixed on the receding taillights. He watched until they disappeared into the downpour, fists clenched at his sides.

It had been weeks. Hell, longer than that, and Bakugou still remembered exactly how you looked when you smiled at him.

His pen clicked against the desk.

Once. Twice.

A third time before he realized he still hadn’t made it past the first paragraph of paperwork sitting in front of him.

A meddling voice interrupted his thoughts. “…Gonna sign that report this century?”

Bakugou didn’t bother looking up. “I’m working.”

“Bullshit.” The chair across from his desk scraped loudly against the floor before Kirishima dropped into it, completely uninvited. Bakugou had let him into his office without second though, too tired to argue.

“You’ve been staring at the same page since I walked in.”

“I’m reading.”

“You’re …upside down?” Kirishima’s grin spread from ear to ear. Bakugou finally broke his stubbornness and glanced down. The report was, in fact, upside down.

Kirishima chuckled, “Damn. You’ve got it bad.”

“I’ve got a headache.” Bakugou grumbled.

The angry hero sighed, finally looking up to shove the crumpled paperwork aside. “What d’you want?”

“Nothing.” Kirishima leaned back in his chair, clearly entertained by how easily he’d gotten under Bakugou’s skin. “Just checking on my best friend. Wanted to see if you finally worked up the nerve to ask out that cute teacher.”

Bakugou leveled him with a flat look. “You got five seconds.”

“What?” Kirishima sat up straighter, “Mina’s wondering too.”

Bakugou let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes. Kirishima, unfortunately encouraged by the lack of explosions, kept going. “So she’s seeing Togata.” He shrugged. “And?”

Bakugou’s jaw shifted. “And… nothing.”

“Exactly.” Kirishima pointed at him like he’d just solved a murder. “You’ve already lost before you even tried.”

Bakugou barked out a dry laugh before crossing his arms over his chest. “’M not competing with Togata.”

“Why not?” Kirishima blinked.

Bakugou leaned back in his chair, rolling the pen between his fingers. “Guy smiles at people and they smile back.”

“…Yeah?” Kirishima shrugged.

“He rescues kittens. He probably helps old ladies cross the damn street.”

Kirishima sighed with a defeated look on his face, “Probably.”

“And he actually likes interviews.”

Bakugou continued, “Meanwhile, every headline about me’s got the word explosive in it.”

Kirishima snorted. “To be fair…”

“’M aware.”

The room settled into an easy silence.

Kirishima watched as Bakugou spun the pen between his fingers, over and over again, just like he’d been doing for the past fifteen minutes.

Then, casually— “Okay. Mina told me not to tell you this.”

Bakugou sighed. “So naturally, you’re gonna.”

“She found Teach’s Instagram.”

No reaction.

“Mirio follows her.”

Still nothing. Kirishima frowned. “You already knew.”

Bakugou unassumingly clicked his pen once more. That was answer enough. Of course he’d noticed. Weeks ago, wish he hadn’t.

Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck. “…You know, man… if she picked somebody like Togata, maybe she’s just got a type.” His head turned to meet Bakugou’s gaze, whose eyes were already fogged over looking elsewhere, deep in the same expression he’s worn since your first date with Mirio.

Bakugou huffed. “Yeah.”

“So maybe she isn’t the one?”

Bakugou stared at the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Cars crawled below. People hurried through crosswalks. Life kept moving.

“…Maybe.”

Kirishima meant well, he always did. But Bakugou knew he was wrong. There wasn’t another woman, there wasn’t going to be. Bakugou had tried the logical route already, told himself you’d been a few months of his life, and that people met someone, moved on, met somebody else. It seemed really simple, it should have been. Instead, his brain insisted on replaying every stupid little thing about you it’d bothered to remember.

How you’d absentmindedly smooth the wrinkles out of your skirt while your students worked. The soft ‘Morning, Dynamight.’ you’d greet him with every Friday like it hadn’t become the part of his week he looked forward to most. He remembered your perfume. Hell, he remembered the hand lotion you used. He remembered the exact look on your face the first time you’d laughed at one of his dry remarks. He couldn’t remember half the mundane things that happened from one day to the next, but somehow his brain had decided that all of his memories of you were worth holding onto.

A few seconds of silence passed before Bakugou abruptly broke it.

“Jenny!”

The office door flew open almost immediately. His assistant hurried inside with an efficiency that nearly impressed Kirishima, stopping just inside the doorway with her shoulders squared and hands clasped behind her back.

“Y-Yes, sir?”

She spared Kirishima a quick, apologetic glance before returning her full attention to Bakugou, still as wary as ever around him.

Bakugou leaned back in his chair, peering up at her as if lost in thought. “…That children’s gala Hawks was talking about at our last meeting. The fundraiser.”

She quickly pulled out her phone, scrolling through his schedule before her expression shifted in recognition. “Ah, yes. The annual benefit dinner for the classroom program.” She glanced back up at him. “I took it off your calendar because you said you wanted the night to relax.”

Bakugou stared at the white light emitting from Jenny’s phone for a long moment before his gaze shifted to Kirishima.

“Think she’ll be there?”

Kirishima looked up from the chocolate bar he’d been steadily working through. “Huh?”

Bakugou sighed, turning his attention back to his assistant. “The teacher I was assigned to,” he said, sitting up a little bit in his office chair, “She gonna be there?”

“Well…” Jenny’s lips twitched, but she quickly hid the small smile threatening to form. “Hawks did specify in the email that everyone involved with the classroom program was invited. Heroes, teachers, sponsors, the entire team.” She glanced down at her phone again.

Bakugou was quiet for a moment before giving a single nod. “Good.”

Kirishima’s grin spread the second he realized what was happening, “Oh, you’re down bad.”

Bakugou stood, grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, and shrugged it over one shoulder. “You’re coming.”

“What? Why?” Kirishima looked up, a small smear of chocolate still left on his face from the bar he’d been eating.

“’Cause if I leave halfway through, I need somebody to tell everyone I got called into work.”

Kirishima stared. “…You’re already planning your escape route?”

Bakugou opened the office door. “I’m planning for you to shut up and be ready by six.”

Kirishima rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as the door clicked shut behind them.

Bakugou pulled up to the curb, stopping with a sharp tap of the brakes. The passenger door opened almost immediately.

“Took you long enough.”

Kirishima slid into the seat, a garment bag thrown over one shoulder and a coffee cup balanced in his hand.

“You’ve been standing there for twelve seconds,” Bakugou replied flatly, already shifting the car back into drive.

The engine settled into a quiet hum as they merged onto the highway. Outside, the city stretched past in streaks of brake lights and glowing storefronts as evening settled in. For a while, neither of them said much. Kirishima had long since learned that silence never bothered Bakugou.

Usually, it meant he was thinking. Tonight, it was painfully obvious what about.

“You nervous?”

Bakugou kept his eyes on the road. “No.”

Kirishima snorted into his coffee cup. “Liar.”

“I’m driving.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Bakugou drummed his thumb once against the steering wheel. “Y’gonna spend the whole night interrogating me?”

Kirishima shrugged. “Probably.”

A quiet scoff escaped Bakugou’s lips, “You’re insufferable.”

Another mile disappeared beneath the tires. Kirishima watched the familiar skyline roll by before speaking again, this time more casually. “I heard Togata isn’t gonna be there tonight.”

Bakugou’s grip tightened almost imperceptibly around the steering wheel. “Says who?”

“Hawks.” Kirishima picked idly at the cardboard sleeve around his drink. “He called Mina yesterday about the seating chart or something. Mentioned Togata’s rescue mission got extended another two weeks.”

Bakugou’s gaze never left the windshield. “…Huh.” Nothing else.

But still, the tension sitting across his shoulders eased enough for Kirishima to notice. “You got a plan?” Kirishima took another sip of his drink.

Bakugou frowned. “For what?”

“If you actually run into her.”

He considered it for exactly two seconds. “…No.”

“So you’re winging it.”

“I always wing it.”

Kirishima tipped his head back, finishing the last of his coffee. “You must really be nervous.”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened. “…Shut up.” He eased the car to a stop beneath the glow of the gala’s entrance, a valet already approaching before he’d even put it in park. “Get in before we’re late dumbass.”

The gala was already in full swing by the time the duo arrived. The venue was larger than Bakugou had expected.

Not extravagant in the way some hero events liked to be, no unnecessary displays of wealth or flashy decorations meant to remind everyone who paid for them. Instead, everything had been arranged with a strange kind of warmth.

A large stage stood at the front of the room, a banner hanging behind it in bold lettering.

THANK YOU, DONORS!

The words were surrounded by photos from the Hero Classroom Program: students participating in activities, laughing with pro heroes, holding up their projects with proud smiles.

The sound of conversation filled the room around him. Heroes he recognized moved between tables, greeting old friends and swapping updates from recent missions, while near the stage members of the Heroes Public Safety Commission spoke with Hawks as he went over the evening’s schedule. He looked completely at ease, answering their questions with the same effortless confidence he displayed everywhere else.

Adjusting the cuff of his suit jacket, Bakugou moved further inside. The tables had already been arranged with assigned seating, each place marked with a small card. A name here, a name there, heroes he knew, sponsors, teachers involved with the program. He kept walking, letting his gaze drift naturally across the rows until he found the section for the classroom staff. His steps slowed as he scanned the names. Nothing. He turned, his eyes scanning through the rest of the venue in case he’d missed you. Still nothing.

Bakugou realized how obsessive he was becoming and forced himself to look away. Don’t be an idiot, he thought. Why would you already be here? You were probably off helping with something, pulled in ten directions because apparently everyone who met you decided they needed your attention. That sounded about right.

Behind the rows of tables, the atmosphere shifted into something looser. A dance floor stretched across the back half of the room, polished beneath the soft glow of hanging lights, and beyond it sat a bar already busy with heroes unwinding after long weeks of patrols and missions. The whole room felt strangely balanced; it was half celebration, half reunion, a reminder that behind the rankings and headlines were people who’d spent their lives doing the same exhausting work.

“You’re doing it again.”

Bakugou didn’t turn. Kirishima had come up beside him, hands tucked into his pockets as he looked out over the room.

“I’m not. I’m just looking around.”

Bakugou shot him a warning glance, but Kirishima only smiled, and thankfully, didn’t push. It wasn’t long before Bakugou’s attention drafted back to the entrance, back to the crowd, catching on every unfamiliar face that walked through the doors. He told himself he was just taking in the room, getting his bearings. That was all lies, of course. If he was being honest with himself, he’d admit he’d come here hoping you’d already be somewhere in the room. So far, you weren’t.

Bakugou and Kirishima made their way toward their assigned table, stopping every few minutes for familiar faces, other heroes wanting to talk recent missions, upcoming rankings, whatever else people found worth discussing at events like this. Bakugou participated, mostly, nodding on cue, answering when someone asked him something, even managing to look like he was paying attention.

He took a slow drink from his glass and let his focus settle on Kirishima’s conversation about some new agency partnership. He was halfway through another mundane hum of a response when a familiar pink figure caught his eye. Mina.

She was leaning against the bar, laughing loudly at something the person beside her had said. She wore a sparkly green dress, her hair curled more than usual, the pink locks bouncing with every animated movement she made. Bakugou almost looked away until he realized who was making her laugh so easily. You.

For a second, the entire room seemed to blur around you. You were turned slightly away from him, focused on whatever Mina was saying, completely unaware that his attention had already found you. The warm lights above the bar caught against the fabric of your dress as you shifted, the movement subtle but enough to make his eyes linger longer than they should have.

You leaned against the counter, absentmindedly tracing the edge of your glass with one hand while the other supported your chin. You looked comfortable and completely unaware of the effect you were having on him. And, for once, you weren’t standing beside that damn Lemillion.

Bakugou knew now that he had no excuses now. No classroom. No students. No program. No Togota.

Kirishima followed his gaze and went quiet, choosing to just watch the scene unfold. Across the room, Mina caught sight of the two heroes, then followed Bakugou’s stare. The moment she realized who he was looking at, a slow smile spread across her face. She leaned closer to you, saying something that made you laugh softly, and Bakugou narrowed his eyes.

What the hell was she saying?

Bakugou watched your expression shift the moment you recognized him. A small smile tugged at your lips as your eyes met across the room. For a second he forgot to move.

Then you lifted your hand in a small wave. He blinked, caught off guard by how easily you smiled at him. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he raised his own hand in response.

The gesture was awkward. Stiff. But it only made your smile grow more.

Hawks’ voice suddenly cut through the chatter of the room, effortlessly drawing everyone’s attention back toward the stage.

Bakugou turned toward him as the retired hero stepped forward, opening the event with his usual easy confidence. He listened for a moment, catching the general idea of the speech, but his attention didn’t stay there for long. Before he could stop himself, his eyes drifted back across the room, searching for you. Except you weren’t where he’d left you.

Confused, Bakugou’s eyes frantically searched for you until he found you farther away from the bar area with an older woman standing beside you, gently taking your hand and leading you toward the stage. He watched as you laughed at something she said, completely comfortable and at ease, before she guided you toward the several important members of the Hero Public Safety Commission.

Before he could wonder why, a sharp pat landed against his back.

“Oh my gosh,” Mina whispered behind him. “You are so obvious.”

He immediately shushed her, his eyes never leaving you. There was no way he was missing whatever had pulled you away, not when he was already completely focused on you.

Mina ignored the warning. “You know you have to tell her tonight, right?” She grabbed a champagne glass from a passing tray, taking a sip before continuing. “Because if Mr. Hunky Lemillion beats you to it and makes things official, you’re done.”

Bakugou did nothing but grunt in response, he hated that she was right.

He could feel his eyes lingering on you again. As if sensing it, you glanced over and smiled. Bakugou immediately looked away, almost like he could somehow convince you that he hadn’t been staring in the first place. You couldn’t help but laugh softly.

You were used to seeing him in his hero gear, the sharp lines of his costume, the confidence he carried when he was Dynamight. You rarely got to see him like this. Tonight he wore a tailored suit that was clearly expensive, though he’d probably deny caring about that. No tie. The sharp cut of the suit emphasized the broadness of his shoulders and the same intimidating presence he carried everywhere else. It was almost annoying to you how good he looked.

Standing beside him was Mina, who had somehow become your unofficial best friend within the first few minutes of arriving. The second she spotted you, she had pulled you into conversation, gotten you a drink, and introduced you to every hero she knew. You definitely weren’t expecting it, but happy you didn’t have to stand around awkwardly by yourself.

“Ms. L/N?”

You turned back as one of the Hero Public Safety Commission members extended his hand with a warm smile. “It’s so great to finally meet you in person. We just wanted to thank you for allowing us to test out our program in your classroom this year.”

You smiled politely, shaking his hand. “Of course. I’m glad I could help.”

“We wanted to make sure we extended our gratitude to all the teachers,” he continued. “It’s one thing to design a program, another to have educators willing to open their classrooms and give it a chance.”

You thanked him again, a little embarrassed by the attention. The members of the Hero Public Safety Commission seemed genuinely interested in hearing about your experience with the program, asking questions about your students and how the classroom visits had gone.

A few feet away, Bakugou leaned against the edge of the table, half-listening as Mina talked beside him.

“—and I’m telling you, if they schedule another late-night patrol briefing after a twelve-hour shift, I’m going to lose it.”

Bakugou glanced at her. “You say that every time.”

“Because every time it happens.”

“You’re a pro hero. What did you expect?”

“I expected to have a life outside of work,” Mina said, taking a sip of her drink. “You know, like a normal person.”

Bakugou grunted, shuffling his glass in between his callous finger, “Think you signed off being a normal person when you decided to be a hero, Pinky.”

Bakugou looked over across the room, where Kirishima was caught in conversation with a few other heroes, easily blending in as he laughed along with whatever story they were sharing.

His attention drifted back toward you. You were still talking with the Commission members, smiling politely as you listened. You looked completely comfortable, even surrounded by people who operated in a world so different from yours.

Mina’s voice pulled Bakugou out of his thoughts. “So… do you have a plan?”

He turned toward her, immediately noticing the slight slur in her words. Without hesitation, he took the champagne glass from her hand and replaced it with a cup of water from the table beside them.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

Mina shrugged, taking a long drink of the water that was placed in her hand.

Bakugou frowned. Before he could argue, she finished the cup and immediately reached for another champagne glass from a passing tray.

He stared at her in disbelief. “Seriously?”

“What?” she asked innocently.

Bakugou sighed, already regretting the possibility of Mina becoming involved in whatever conversation he was supposed to have with you tonight. The last thing he needed was her getting too excited and making things worse.

Before he could let his thoughts spiral any further, Mina suddenly went quiet. Her eyes widened, and a small, excited gasp escaped her.

“What?” Bakugou asked, immediately suspicious.

She ignored him, nudging his side with her elbow. “Stand up straight.”

He shot her an irritated look, but still found himself fixing his posture before following her gaze.

You had finished your conversation with the Commission members and were making your way back toward them. The moment your eyes met his, your expression softened into a small smile.

Some of the tension he’d been carrying all night finally eased. Finally, a chance to talk to you.

“Sorry,” you said as you reached them. “I didn’t mean to disappear for so long.”

“You’re fine,” Bakugou answered a little too quickly.

Mina, still slightly tipsy, immediately jumped into the conversation. “They kidnapped her,” she said dramatically. “I was about five minutes away from filing a missing persons report.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It wasn’t that bad. They were just thanking me for letting them use my class for the program.” You shot a short glance over at Bakugou, whose eyes has not let off of you for a second since you walked up.

“Well,” Mina said, excitedly looping an arm through yours, “you’re free now.”

Bakugou opened his mouth, finally ready to say something more than a few clipped words, when the earpiece tucked in his ear crackled to life. The warmth left his expression instantly.

“Dynamight. Red Riot. Possible villain attack reported two blocks east of your location. Local heroes are engaged. Backup requested.”

Across the room, Kirishima had already gone still, his attention fixed on Bakugou. He’d heard it too.

The first hints of commotion drifted in through the open balcony doors. Distant shouts, the screech of tires, followed by the unmistakable crack of an explosion somewhere beyond the next block.

Conversation throughout the ballroom began to falter. A handful of heroes exchanged quick glances before instinct took over. Chairs scraped against the floor as they excused themselves from conversations, activating pieces of their costumes or making for the exits with practiced urgency.

Kirishima didn’t move, instead waiting for Bakugou’s cue. His friend’s eyes met his for only a second. Go.

It wasn’t spoken. A subtle tilt of his head toward the doors was enough. Kirishima gave a single nod before disappearing into the growing crowd of heroes rushing outside. Bakugou remained where he was, his attention flicking briefly around the room.

No signs of immediate danger. No breach. Just anxious guests beginning to notice that something was happening beyond the walls. Then the sound reached them.

A rapid succession of deafening blasts echoed from somewhere just outside the venue, followed by the shriek of twisting metal. The windows lining the ballroom rattled violently, sending a ripple of uneasy silence through the crowd. Bakugou’s head snapped toward the entrance. People near the windows recoiled when they caught sight of the figures acrosss the street as they came into view.

There were five of them. They were masked and fast moving, forcing panicked civilians ahead of them as they sprinted toward the building. One swung an enormous slab of concrete overhead before hurling it through the air. It crashed into the fountain outside, sending water and shattered stone exploding across the front steps.

The ballroom erupted. Screams replaced conversation and guests stumbled over one another as they rushed away from the windows. Bakugou turned instinctively toward Kirishima, but the spot he’d been standing in was already empty. Good.

Bakugou looked back, Mina was gone too. She’d vanished into the sea of panicked guests without him even noticing, undoubtedly helping direct people toward the nearest exits. Bakugou’s eyes hurried around the venue for another split second before he remembered you. You hadn’t moved. Your face had gone completely pale, eyes fixed on the destruction unfolding just beyond the glass. The color had drained from your cheeks, your breathing shallow enough that it looked like you’d forgotten how to take the next one.

Without thinking, you crossed the few steps between you and reached for him, your fingers wrapping tightly around the sleeve of his suit. Bakugou looked down at your trembling hand before his eyes lifted back to your face. Real fear. Without a word he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer so that your ear sat firmly against his chest.

“Stay close.” The command was quiet, but there was no room to argue. You were nothing short of terrified. You had encountered villains before, but they had always been small-time criminals, the kind who only targeted the elderly and ran the moment a hero showed up. Nothing that prepared you for this.

You thought about the beginning of the attack, and how before you could even fully process what was happening, Mina was already gone, weaving through the chaos and helping guests evacuate. You hated the helpless feeling that settled in your chest. You weren’t a hero and you couldn’t fight. You couldn’t stop the destruction unfolding around you.

Luckily, Bakugou was beside you already moving, already taking control of the situation with the same confidence he carried into every classroom visit and every battle you’d seen on the news. For what it was worth, you felt a little less afraid knowing he was there.

Bakugou’s expression changed the moment the first explosion shook the building. The noise outside was closer than it should have been, this was definitely no longer something happening blocks away. The entire entrance to the venue erupted into chaos as another blast tore through the front of the building.

His eyes scanned the room, quickly assessing the situation before it escalated beyond his control.

Civilians everywhere. Too many exits blocked by panic. Too many people frozen in place. And the villains were already closing in.

Bakugou shifted his attention back toward the entrance as the first villain forced their way inside. The room erupted again as heroes moved to engage, but the villains were pushing forward recklessly, using the crowd as cover.

“Move!” Bakugou shouted, the authority in his voice cutting through the panic. He raised his hand, an explosion erupting from his palm, not aimed at the villain, but at the collapsed debris blocking the nearest exit. The force shattered the rubble apart, clearing a path for guests to escape.

“Get them out!” Other heroes immediately followed his lead, guiding civilians through the opening. Another villain charged toward the crowd, causing Bakugou to turn instantly.

The blast from his palm sent them flying backward before they could get close, the force controlled enough to stop the attack without endangering anyone nearby.

You watched in awe as Bakugou moved around you with practiced precision, warning civilians out of harm’s way while taking down villains with one hand, the other still wrapped securely around your waist. You kept your eyes squeezed shut amidst the chaos, afraid that opening them would mean seeing something you’d never be able to forget.

Even in the middle of the fight, Bakugou spared a brief moment to glance down at you, making sure you were okay.

The villains weren’t anything he couldn’t handle. Sure they were were reckless, loud, but nowhere near the level of threats he’d faced before. Normally, this kind of fight wouldn’t even make him hesitate. He’d dealt with worse, taken bigger hits and walked away without giving it a second thought. But you were with him this time.

The way you held onto him, the way your eyes squeezed shut and your arms trembled every time an explosion went off, Bakugou easily knew you were terrified. He hated the thought of you seeing this side of the job and all of the destruction and fear that came along with it. More than that, he hated the thought of a world where he couldn’t get to you in time. So he tightened his grip around your waist, just slightly, before turning his attention back to the fight.

By then, the villains had forced their way further into the venue, leaving the once elegant setup almost unrecognizable. The chandeliers that had decorated the ceiling were shattered, chunks of concrete and debris were scattered across the polished wooden stage, and bottles from the bar rolled across the floor, spilling their contents over the floor.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before most of the villains had been contained by the other heroes, and Kirishima had returned to your and Bakugou’s side. When you finally found the courage to open your eyes, the scene was much calmer than before. Some villains had been restrained in a corner with ropes binding them, while inured civilians were being tended to by heroes. It was still a disaster, but nowhere near as catastrophic as you had imagined.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Bakugou’s deep voice pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up at him, realizing you were still clutching tightly onto the side of his suit.

Your face immediately heated with embarrassment and you quickly let go, smoothing down the skirt of your dress as if that would somehow erase what just happened. “Yeah. Good. No— not hurt,” you said quickly, though your voice still carried the lingering fear you hadn’t quite shaken off.

Bakugou’s crimson eyes moved over your face, studying every little detail. The slight tremble in your hands and your uneven breath. You tried hard to hide it, but you were definitely still shaken up. Finally realizing you weren’t injured, the tension in his shoulders eased. “Damn it…” he muttered, dragging a hand over his face. “Sorry.”

You blinked. “Sorry?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he repeated, looking away for a second before looking back at you. “Should’ve realized you weren’t used to this kind of crap. Didn’t exactly plan on your first villain attack being here.” His voice was rough, but there was something quieter underneath it. “You okay? Like, actually okay?”

You immediately shook your head, cutting him off before he could keep going. “What? I’m okay. Really.” You gave him a small smile, trying to reassure him. “You did great. Honestly… it was kind of nice having you there to protect me.”

Your words weren’t even particularly dramatic, but something about the way you said them made Bakugou’s mind go completely blank.

After a few moments of you and Bakugou’s intimate staring competition, his mouth opened slightly, a thought forming before he could stop it.“Listen, I—”

A sudden burst of camera flashes caused both of you to turn, your eyes stinging as the bright lights momentarily blurred your vision.

“Breaking news! We have reports that a group of five villains known as the Havoc Five have launched an attack on the Golden Stag Hall just moments ago…” The arrival of the reporters was almost as overwhelming as the attack itself. News crews flooded into the venue alongside the responding heroes, microphones already raised and cameras pointed toward the destruction left behind.

Bakugou immediately tensed, his expression hardening as he glanced toward the growing crowd of reporters. Without even seeming to realize it, his hand found yours, pulling you closer to him.

You startled at the sudden movement, looking down at your intertwined hands before looking back up at him in surprise. Before you could ask what he was doing, the reporters had already noticed him.

“Oh! And there he is—Dynamight!” one of the reporters exclaimed, quickly making her way toward the two of you with a microphone in hand. “The number two hero himself. Surely you’ll be able to give us a firsthand account of what happened here tonight!”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened. Absolutely not, not with you standing right there. Not while you were still shaken, while cameras were flashing in your face and a dozen strangers were about to start asking you questions. He stepped forward, instinctively placing himself between you and the reporters, his hand still firmly holding yours.

And then, without warning, he moved. You barely had time to process what was happening before Bakugou was guiding you through the venue, pushing open doors and leading you away from the noise. You stumbled after him, trying to keep up as he maneuvered you through several hallways and exits.

It didn’t take long before the bright, iridescent lights of the venue’s hallways faded behind you, replaced by the deep blue expanse of the night sky. The cool evening breeze brushed against every inch of your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the chaos you had just left behind.

You looked over at Bakugou, who stood a few feet away, hands tucked into his pockets as he stared down at you. The alley beside the venue was quiet, almost eerily so after everything that had just happened. No flashing cameras or reporters shouting questions. Just the two of you.

“Sorry.” The word came out quieter than you expected. Bakugou’s eyes were distant, his expression unreadable as he looked away for a moment.

You shook your head, suddenly aware of the shift in the atmosphere between you. The chaos from inside felt like it belonged to another world entirely. “It was probably for the best,” you admitted.

He only nodded. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was different. Bakugou’s eyes moved over you, taking in every detail. It should have made you nervous, the intensity of his stare, the way he seemed to be studying you like he was trying to memorize something.

“You look good in that dress,” he finally said.

The compliment was so unexpected that your heart skipped. You let out a small laugh, looking away as warmth crept into your cheeks. “Oh. Thank you.”

Bakugou cleared his throat, almost like he regretted saying it out loud before stepping closer. One hand remained in his pocket while the other extended toward you. “I know a place we can get to.”

Your gaze dropped to his hand. The scars. The calluses. The faint marks left behind from years of fighting to protect people. A reminder that the person standing in front of you was someone who had fought for every mark on his skin. Without really thinking, you placed your hand in his. His palm was rough against yours, warm and familiar.

“Where are we going?” you asked, glancing back toward the venue. “Are you sure you’ll even be able to get your car out with everyone still there?”

A small smirk tugged at his lips as he lifted his free hand, gesturing toward the open sky above you. “Don’t need a car.”

Your eyes widened slightly as realization dawned on you. “Wait…”

Bakugou gave your hand a small tug, pulling you closer to him. He crouched slightly, one arm slipping carefully beneath you as he lifted you into his grasp. The sudden movement caught you off guard, a small gasp escaping before you could stop it. He had steadied quickly back onto his feet like carrying you was the easiest thing he had done. Your hand instinctively found its place against his chest, fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his suit as you adjusted to the sudden closeness. Beneath your palm, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Strong, but faster than you expected.

He shifted his hold slightly, making sure you were comfortable. “Hold on tight.”

Your arms wrapped closely around him the second his explosions sent the two of you soaring into the night sky. He could feel the way your fingers gripped onto the fabric of his suit, the way you held onto him just a little tighter every time he adjusted his trajectory or the wind picked up around you. The feeling made him smile. Cute.

The city stretched out beneath you as Bakugou carried you higher, the lights below becoming a blur of gold and white against the darkness. For a moment, the chaos of the evening felt impossibly far away. When you looked down, the venue for tonight’s event was already shrinking in the distance, but you could still see the aftermath left behind, the flashing lights of emergency vehicles, and the heroes moving around the scene. The destruction looked so much smaller from up here.

Only minutes ago, you had been standing in the middle of it, terrified and overwhelmed. Now, you were above it all, held safely against the very person who had made sure you walked away unharmed. Your eyes slowly lifted back to him.

The sharp focus in his eyes as he navigated through the sky. The way the wind pushed against his hair. The steady confidence in every movement he made. The same hands that had fought through countless battles were the ones holding you right now.

Bakugou glanced down, catching you staring “What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You immediately looked away, embarrassed. “Nothing.”

He huffed, but the small smirk on his face told you he didn’t believe you. A few more bursts carried you forward before Bakugou finally slowed, landing smoothly on the rooftop of a nearby building. The moment your feet touched the ground, you stepped away and turned around.

Buildings stretched toward the night sky, their windows glowing like scattered points of light. Far below, the streets buzzed with movement, but from this height, everything felt distant and calm.

You took a slow breath, letting the cool night air settle around you. This was the view he saw every night.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You just stood there together, looking out at the city as it stretched endlessly ahead, quiet, bright, and far away.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

Bakugou glanced over at you. “Yeah.”

You looked back at him, surprised by how easily he agreed. “You come here often?”

“Sometimes.” Was all he said.

“When things get too loud,” he admitted after a moment. “Too many people. Too much damn noise.”

You smiled softly. “I didn’t know you had a place like this.”

Bakugou only shrugged, looking away like he didn’t know what else to do with himself. A small laugh escaped you, soft enough that he almost missed it. When he looked back, he found you watching him.

“You know…” you started, taking slow steps toward him. “I think everyone has this idea of you.”

His eyebrow lifted, curious about what you would say next.. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. They see Dynamight. The number two hero. The guy who’s always yelling and blowing things up.”

A small scoff left him. “Sounds about right.”

“But I don’t think that’s all you are.”

The words made him go quiet.

“You’re actually really kind,” you continued. “You just hide it under a lot of yelling.”

A quiet, “Tch,” was all the hero could respond with. Bakugou watched fondly as you laughed, and couldn’t help but think how damn lucky he was to have you standing there with him, away from the crowd, looking like this.

And he also didn’t know how to explain that the version of him you got wasn’t one he gave to everyone. That he wasn’t suddenly some easygoing, patient person overnight. It was just you. You were the reason he found himself thinking twice before snapping. You occupied his thoughts more than he’d ever admit. You had gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had. And somehow, impossibly, he didn’t want you to leave.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” Bakugou said softly, despite the harsh words.

You blinked. “Wow. What a compliment.”

“No, shut up, I’m not done.” Bakugou looked away, jaw tightening as he searched for the words “Damn it…”

His hand moved to the back of his neck, fingers brushing through his hair in a rare display of nervousness. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for a while.”

A look of warmth washed over your expression.

“I like you.” The words came out soft and simple.

You let out a quiet gasp, a small smile beginning to form on your face, which somehow only made him more desperate to keep going.

“I’ve liked you for a while,” he admitted. “And I kept trying to ignore it because I figured eventually it’d go away.” He scoffed quietly, shaking his head. “Didn’t.”

He took a few steps towards you, slowly closing the distance between you until there was barely any space left.

“Every time something happened, every time I saw you, I just…” He exhaled, frustrated with himself. “Damn it. You got stuck in my head.”

A smile tugged at your lips.

“Bakugou…” You stepped forward, closing the small distance that existed between the two of you before snaking your arms behind his neck, and bringing your faces even closer together. Bakugou looked between your eyes and your lips.

The city hummed around you, distant voices and passing cars filling the quiet space between you as you looked at each other.

Before he could force himself to say another word, you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. He froze for a moment, caught completely off guard, before his hands found your waist and pulled you closer.

He could still feel the warmth of the kiss long after you pulled away. The usual confidence he carried faded into something quieter as he looked at you, taking in the way the moonlight rested against your face.

You smiled.

“I like you too,” you whispered.

Bakugou could only stare at you, the words took a second to sink in for him.

He’d spent so long convincing himself he was too late, that he’d already missed his chance.

But you were still there.

Bakugou wondered what was on the agenda for today’s Hero Course Program before the answer came to him a second later, his paper schedule flashing through his mind.

Today is Hero Field Day. Bakugou scoffs at the thought in his mind. Some type of kiddie bullshit so all the students can have fun and exchange information about what they’ve learned through the hero course program. Whatever, that part doesn't concern him much.

He pulls his arms behind his head to rest on them, now pondering in the morning glow. He wondered if you'd be wearing that stupid cardigan again.

Bakugou blinks away his tiredness in frustration, the edges of his eyelids still sore with every pass. Why does he know what type of cardigan you wear? He sprawls his muscular limbs across his bed, his soft cotton sheets spread to cover his crotch and upper thigh. He stared up at the ceiling, annoyed with himself before he’d even gotten out of bed.

It was just a cardigan. A piece of clothing. A completely normal thing to notice about someone he saw every week. Of course he would grow fond of someone he’s regularly interacting with.

Except he didn’t remember what any of his coworkers wore when they were out of costume. Or what color their mugs were. Or how their perfume smelled. Or what they looked like when they tucked their hair behind their ear, or when their lips curl up slightly before they start to giggle, hand rushing to cover their mouth as they smiled wider.

His jaw tightened.

Three weeks. Three fucking weeks, and somehow he’d managed to develop a problem. Every damn day he told himself to knock it off. She was a teacher. He was there to do his job. End of story.

But every time he walked into that classroom, his eyes found her before anyone else. Every time she laughed at something stupid, it stuck with him longer than it should’ve. These past few weeks, he’s shut down villains bigger than buildings. Negotiated media interviews and rescue operations under pressure.

Yet somehow he couldn’t stop thinking about one damn teacher. He slowly dragged a jagged hand down his tired face, sighing before forcing himself to get up for the day.

Hero Field Day. The idea was actually a little exciting. With the weather finally warming up over the past few weeks, the school board had decided to host the event outdoors as a celebration of the Pro Heroes who volunteered their time to inspire the future heroes of Sakura Elementary.

The setup looked very cute from what you saw when you walked in this morning, it should be pretty fun for the kids.

You turned toward them at the doorframe of your classroom, reminding them what a single-file line was supposed to look like. The excited kids shuffled into something that resembled a line. Crooked, with a few students grouped together at the back.

“Okay,” you started, raising your voice just enough to gather their attention. “Who remembers the rules for our Hero Field Day today?”

You lifted your hand as an example, and almost immediately, tiny hands shot into the air. You smiled, scanning the eager faces before calling on one of your students.

“No fighting, no crying, and stay with a friend!”

“Exactly.”

You waited until the chatter died down before motioning for them to follow you into the hallway, Walking backward toward the exit —this was a skill you’ve learned over the years. Your eyes continuously swept over the line of students, making sure everyone stayed together.

You didn’t notice Bakugou leaning against the exit door, watching as you guided your students toward him. No cardigan today. His eyes dropped for half a second. New jeans, though. They looked good.

The hero immediately frowned, pushing the thought away before it could settle. Before he could catch one more glance to see the brand name of your new pants, you turned around, nearly walking straight into him before your feet come to a quick stop.

Your smile was bright enough to catch him off gaurd. “You came back!”

Bakugou shoved his hands into the pockets of his hero costume, deliberately looking past your gaze. “I work here.”

One brow arched. “You work at an elementary school now?”

A quiet scoff left him. You continued to walk out of the door into the field with your class, Bakugou staying close beside you. “Once a week. Don’t be a smartass.”

His words lacked any real bite, and the corner of your mouth lifted a little further because you knew it. This time, he actually looked at you. His gaze lingered for half a second longer than necessary, taking in the warmth in your expression, the way you seemed genuinely happy to see him. It was nice.

When you finally stepped onto the sprawling school field, you couldn’t help but pause. It was even better than you’d imagined. Colorful booths stretched across the grass, each one decorated to match the hero running it. Balloons bobbed in the breeze, music drifted through the air, and the excited chatter of hundreds of students filled every corner of the field.

You tried to recall the details from the Field Day Protocol email the school had sent out the week before, though by now it had long since been buried beneath a mountain of unread messages.

Every hero participating in the Heroes Public Safety Commission’s program at Sakura Elementary was there, each standing alongside the class they’d been assigned to throughout the year. The field had been divided into different stations, each one designed around the hero running it, showcasing their quirks, their strengths, and the skills they used as heroes.

You had to admit, it was actually a pretty thoughtful idea.

You spotted Lemillion in the distance, standing proudly beside his station. The Number One Hero. It was still a little surreal seeing someone like him here, spending his Friday afternoon at an elementary school field day. But more than anything, it made you appreciate the heroes involved even more. The fact that the Number One and Number Two heroes were willing to step away from their busy schedules to encourage the next generation of heroes said a lot about them.

Lemillion’s station was titled Save the Civilians. A giant inflatable building structure sat in the middle of the field, with stuffed animals scattered throughout the “damaged” building, waiting to be rescued. You could already guess the objective: students would have to crawl through tunnels, squeeze through obstacles, and “phase” through hanging curtains to reach the civilians trapped inside.

Judging by the excited screams coming from the station, it was already a hit. Lemillion beamed down at each of the kids with his signature smile. He was actually a lot more handsome in person, you thought.

Your attention drifted back to Dynamight’s field day station, finally taking in the setup you’d been too distracted to notice before.

A large sign overhead read BLAST ZONE. The course was packed with obstacles. Cardboard villains lurked around corners, while others were rigged to spring up without warning as the kids made their way through. Their mission was simple: toss “grenades”—bean bags—at every villain they encountered before reaching the end, where a towering villain dummy waited as the final boss. One direct hit would trigger a dramatic explosion of colorful confetti.

A slight giggle escaped you. It was ridiculously over-the-top, but still very fitting for the Pro Hero.

You were crouched beside one of the students, helping them adjust the strap on their helmet before they ran through the obstacle course. The kid was rambling excitedly about how they were going to beat the “villains” faster than anyone else, and you listened with a smile, encouraging them before sending them back toward their classmates.

Bakugou watched the interaction from across the field. He wasn’t even sure when he’d started doing it.

Maybe it was the way you never rushed the kids, even when there were a dozen other things demanding your attention. Or how easily you matched their excitement without ever talking down to them. Maybe it was how good you looked in these jeans he’s never seen before, or the way your messy hair always fell perfectly around your face and ears. He found himself noticing you. And unfortunately for him, someone else noticed too.

“Woww Katsuki, shameless.” Bakugou’s shoulder stiffened, the simple comment was enough. He turned slowly, already knowing exactly who he’d find standing beside him. Mina Ashido wore the kind of grin that meant trouble.

Bakugou let out a rough sigh. Of course she had to be here. She didn’t even know Mina was in the Hero Classroom Program, or that she was even assigned to this school at all.

“What?” he asked, though the warning in his voice was immediate.

She glanced between him and you, far too amused. “Nothing,” she said, drawing out the word. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Mind your business, Mina.” He grumbled, hands still in pockets. He didn’t even have to look over at her anymore to see the huge grin plastered across her face. He scanned the field for her Field Day Station before landing on it across the field. An Acid Agility game with bright colors, obstacles, and music playing. It even had a dance floor at the center.

It didn’t take you too long to notice that Bakugou was chatting with the Number 10 Hero, Pinky. Your cheeks went flushed. He knows Pinky? Your mind flashes to the moments you were obsessed with her in college, even had one of her posters up in your dorm. You practically wanted to be her. Plus, her Pinky’s™ Pink Acid Power-Hold Hairspray is totally iconic. And you had the commercial memorized.

Mina was exactly as she appeared on the media and publicly; bright, and impossibly energetic. Her signature pink hair bounced as she practically beamed over, a huge smile spreading across her face as she talked excitedly to Bakugou.

You watched the interaction with a small smile, surprised by the familiarity between them. It was strange seeing heroes talk so casually. Mina’s eyes bounced with eagerness as her gaze met yours. “And when were you going to introduce me to your cute teacher friend?” She teases. “Katsuki, you’re so rude.” Hearing Mina use his first name made you deduce that they had probably met a while ago, during hero training.

You smiled a little awkwardly, clearly caught off guard. Mina had that effect on people. Plus, you’d been obsessed with the Pinky’s™ haircare line for years. “O-oh thank you. I’m Ms. L/N” you stuttered, holding out your hands for her to shank “I’m a big fan.” Is all that you could muster. Your palms were definitely sweating.

Bakugou watched the way you immediately got flustered, your attention completely stolen by Mina’s presence. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

Seriously? This was the same person who’d looked him dead in the eye and talked back without hesitation. He couldn’t even get five words into a conversation with you before you were already firing back with some quick comeback. But Mina shows up with dumb pink hair and a smile, and suddenly you’re tripping over your words? Unbelievable.

He looked away, annoyed by the strange feeling settling in his chest. Pinky had you nervous. Not him.

Mina laughed nervously at your admiration, one hand met with yours in a handshake, “I’m not all that, promise me.” She turns toward the number 2 hero, who still had an annoyed look plastered on his face, two hands in his pockets.

“Who you SHOULD be gawking over is Mr. Dynamight here. It’s not easy to be Number 2.“ she slaps him on the shoulder playfully, he glares at her, his eyes like bright crimson lasers in response, “Plus Kacchan’s totally a softie underneath all of that yelling.”

Bakugou knew exactly what she was doing. Somehow, Mina had developed an infuriating sixth sense for sniffing out the moment any of her friends caught feelings for someone. She’d been weaponizing it against Katsuki specifically ever since he’d admitted to his first crush after high school, making it her personal mission to drag him into the dating world whether he liked it or not. He suppressed a groan.

Because the second he let himself think too hard about you, his mind went straight to everything that could go wrong. You were a teacher. Normal. Grounded. Completely outside the mess of hero society.

And he was Dynamight. A hero with enemies, cameras, reporters, and a life that never really belonged to him. Wanting you felt selfish. Acting on it felt reckless. He suppressed another groan.

“Don’t even start,” he muttered.

Mina’s grin only widened. “I didn’t say anything.”

She didn’t have to. Because he knew where this was going. Next time they see each other she’d give him the same speech she always did. That he worked too much. That he was too hard on himself. That maybe he deserved to have something outside of hero work.Mina didn’t understand. Or maybe she did, and that was the problem.

You stood confused between the two, did you miss something?

He opened his mouth to shut her up before she could get any smug ideas, but a student came rushing up at the worst possible moment, tugging at your sleeve and asking for help with something small and urgent. Whatever it was, it pulled you away again before Bakugou could even get a word in.

He watched you go, jaw tightening. Of course the universe would keep doing this to him, giving him just enough of you to make him want more, then yanking you out of reach before he could do anything about it.

Mina followed his stare, then looked back at him with a knowing expression that made him want to explode. “Seriously?” she said once you were out of earshot. “You’re gonna stand there and brood every time she walks away?”

“I’m not brooding.” He sniffs, eyes still planted on you.

Mina sighed, clearly done with his stubbornness. “You need to put yourself out there. Stop acting like wanting something normal is a crime.”

He scoffed, but there was less bite in it than usual. “Normal isn’t really my thing.”

“No kidding,” she shot back. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve it.” Bakugou didn’t answer.

Mina knew him well enough to recognize when she’d hit too close to the truth. She just watched him stand there, stubbornly refusing to admit she had a point.

A few moments later, you came back over, your attention shifting between him and the obstacle course behind you. There was a slight crease between your brows, like you were debating whether or not to interrupt.

He noticed immediately, “What’s up?” he asked before you could even get the words out.

You blinked, surprised that he had noticed something wrong so quickly. “Sorry, but…” Your gaze flickered back toward the kids gathered around Dynamight's Blast Zone course. A few of them were struggling with one of the obstacles, looking unsure of what to do next. “I think they need your help. They’re having a bit of trouble. I tried to help but I don’t really know what I’m doing” You chuckled. Your voice was soft and semi-defeated.

For a second, Bakugou just looked at you. It was almost irritating how easily Mina’s words had gotten under his skin. Like she’d reached past every excuse he’d built and dragged something out into the open that he’d been trying not to acknowledge.

Which was that he wanted to get to know everything about you. What you ate for breakfast when you were too tired to cook. What songs you listened to on your way home. Whether you were the type of person who stayed up too late despite knowing better or if you actually went to bed at a reasonable hour. If you had a pet waiting for you when you got home. If you talked to yourself when you were alone. What color were your pajamas?

He wanted to know all of it. More than anything, he wanted to know what was going through your mind when you looked at him like that. That earnest, eager expression on your face should’ve been easy to dismiss, but somehow it had carved itself into his memory ever since the day you two met.

And even though helping the students was literally the reason he was there, a small part of him was grateful for the excuse to step away before Mina could say anything else.

“Yeah,” he put his thoughts beside himself, already walking over. “I’ll handle it.”

Mina followed your gaze toward the obstacle course, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Well,” she said, clapping her hands together. “I’m gonna go check on my group before they decide the bean bags are actually weapons.”

You laughed softly. “Probably a good idea.” Probably for the best, too, since you’d likely end up just fangirling and unintentionally freaking out the pro hero.

Mina shot Bakugou one last look before walking away. A look he definitely noticed.

You watched as Bakugou crouched down beside the students who had gathered around the obstacle course, all of them staring at the setup like it had personally offended them.

“Alright,” he said, eyes flicking over the course. “Who’s freezin’ up?”

A few hands went up immediately.

“I keep hesitating!” One of the students explains.

“I know where to throw, but I miss every time!” Another one joins.

More students angrily complain about their qualms with the field day event.

Bakugou stared at them for a second. Then he huffed, just like he’d already figured out the problem. He positions himself to stand back up, his muscular arms that you definitely don’t stare at every week bracing themselves on his thigh before he gets up in one swift motion.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “You’re all thinkin' too much.”

The kids blinked at him.

He picked up one of the bean bags and rolled it once in his palm. “Y'don’t need to make it perfect. You need to commit.”

He stood and demonstrated the throw, not with a huge burst of power, but with a clean, controlled motion that sent the bean bag straight through the opening. The cardboard villain quickly thuds to the grown with a loud electronic “OH NO!”

The kids gasp in excitement, ready to try their hand at his new advice.

“See that?” he said, pointing at the target. “Pick your line. Trust it. Then move.”

One of the students tried again, this time without stopping halfway through their throw. The bean bag landed exactly where it was supposed to. The kid’s face lit up. “I did it!”

Bakugou’s mouth twitched, almost forming a smile. “Yeah,” he said. “You did.”

More students began grabbing bean bags and racing through the obstacle course, their cheers and laughter filling the field as they knocked down the cardboard villains in their path. Dozens of electronic “OH NO!”s rang out from the defeated targets.

You watched from the side, a quiet smile tugging at your lips. The program had been everything you could have hoped for your students, but there were only two weeks left before it came to an end. The Heroes Public Safety Commission had chosen the timing intentionally, giving the children time to adjust to the excitement of seeing heroes every week before the sudden change of summer break.

Still, knowing it wouldn’t last much longer left a dull ache in your chest. This school year had already been one of your best, but this program had changed something. It had given you more opportunities to connect with your students, to see them open up and believe in themselves.

You watched the students play, a hint of melancholy softening your expression. From the field, Bakugou caught sight of you standing off to the side, watching your students with a look he couldn’t quite place.

Kids ran around him, laughing and shouting as they threw bean bags and took down cardboard villains, but his attention kept drifting back to you. He wondered what was going through your head.

“Hey there!”

You turned at the sudden voice, finding a bright smile and a familiar face standing in front of you.

“I don’t think we’ve properly met yet. I’m Mirio Togata. Lemillion.” He offered his hand, the brigthness of his smile somehow rivaled the sunshine outside. “I’ve been meaning to introduce myself.”

You blinked, a little surprised before shaking his hand. “Oh! It’s nice to meet you. I'm Y/N L/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” he teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement. He looked exactly how you expected him to up close, handsome and bright. “Though I have to admit, I was curious about the teacher brave enough to let Dynamight loose around a bunch of kids.”

You glanced toward the field, laughing softly. “He’s actually been really good with them.”

Mirio looked over as well, amused. “Yeah… that’s probably something not many people get to see.” His eyes returned to you, a playful glint in them. “Guess I’m lucky I got to meet both of you today.”

For a second, when his eyes met yours, you swore your heart stopped.

Was Lemillion… flirting with you?

Lemillion? The number one hero?

Your thoughts immediately went somewhere ridiculous. Was it the new pants you bought? Was that the secret? Had you accidentally unlocked some kind of confidence boost without realizing it?

Or was he really just being friendly and finally taking the chance to introduce himself? Whatever the reason was, you were definitely enjoying all of the Pro Hero attention you were getting today.

The field day ended earlier than Bakugou realized. The loud screams of kids had dissipated as they all made their way back to be picked up or after school programs.

After the principal’s announcement, teachers and heroes began working together to clean up the field, gathering equipment and returning the obstacle course pieces back to storage.

Bakugou should’ve been focused on the task in front of him. He wasn’t.

His eyes kept drifting back to you.

More specifically, to the way you and Lemillion were standing together near the edge of the field, packing up some last pieces of equipment and smiling at each other like you were sharing some private joke.

Bakugou frowned, taking a deep breath to keep his irritation from consuming him. The hell was so funny?

By the time everyone started heading back inside, he found himself walking near you before he’d even decided to. “What’s with that face?” he asked.

You looked over, confused. “What face?”

“The one you’ve had all afternoon.” His eyes flicked briefly toward where Lemillion had been standing. “You and Togata. What’s going on? Some type of inside joke?” His tone was almost interrogation like.

You paused, realizing he’d been paying attention more than you expected. You hadn’t even noticed him watching you and Togata that closely. Why did he care so much?

“Oh.” The memory came back to you, and you felt a little heat creep into your face. You had been smiling pretty much the entire conversation.

Bakugou immediately didn’t like that reaction. “Oh?”

You looked away, a small smile tugging at your lips. “He asked me on a date,” you said softly.

And Bakugou froze. Your eyes glimmered with something he couldn’t quite name; something warm, something excited. He’d never seen you look like that before. Not at him.

For a moment, Bakugou said nothing.

“…A date?” He sounded almost perplexed.

Of course someone like Lemillion would make a move without even thinking twice. He was friendly, confident, easy to talk to. The kind of person people naturally gravitated toward.

“Yes, Dynamight,” you teased. “Despite what you may think, men actually do ask me out sometimes.”

Bakugou scoffed internally. You bent down to grab a basket of bean bags, tilting your head slightly toward the pile of cardboard villains sitting at his feet. Without a word, he followed behind you, picking them up as instructed. That was when he was finally able to catch the brand of the new pants you were wearing. Not that it mattered now.

“Tch. But you guys work together,” he called out, trying to ignore the irritation creeping into his tone.

“Not really,” you replied. “Plus, you guys are leaving soon anyway.” You glanced back at him with a small smile, gesturing vaguely in his direction. “Might as well take what I can get, right?”

The hero frowned, a low grunt leaving his throat in defiance. He didn’t like the way that sounded. Not one bit.

Bakugou felt utterly defeated. He couldn’t tell what bothered him more: The fact that Lemillion had asked you out… or the fact that he hadn’t even thought to do it himself until now. He felt like a damn coward.

“So where’r you guys goin’?” he asked after placing the gathered equipment on the nearest bench inside of the storage shed. The question slipped out before he could stop it.

Was he jealous?

“Oh my goodness, am I being interviewed?” you joked, throwing your hands up dramatically. “I don’t know yet,” you admitted with a laugh. “He said he’ll text me tonight and let me know where we’re going.”

Great. The date was tonight.

Makes sense. Bakugou knew Fridays were usually Mirio’s days off. With UA students and provisional license heroes taking over patrol rotations for work studies, it gave active pros a little more flexibility during the weekends.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes when he looked back at you. You looked way too excited. Like some teenager gushing over a celebrity. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like other heroes having your attention. He was the one who came here. Dynamight. The hero who was supposed to make this program fun for you and your students. The one who’d spent weeks watching you smile, watching you care about those kids.

So why the hell were you going out with fucking Lemillion? Sure, the guy was popular. Sure, everyone loved him. But Bakugou knew he had more than enough to back himself up. More power. More bite. More confidence.

He wasn’t letting Lemillion win that easily. Not again.

“Enjoy your date,” he grumbled, the words coming out sharper than he intended.

Before you could respond, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there in the storage shed alone. You stared after him for a moment, caught off guard by the strange edge in his voice.

You didn’t let it bother you too much, knowing you had a date to rush home and get ready for.

The night patrol should’ve ended hours ago. Bakugou knew that.

His assistant definitely knew that.

“Bakugou,” her voice crackled through his earpiece, already sounding exhausted. “Your patrol time was up two hours ago. You can go home now.”

“I’m busy.”

“You’re literally still patrolling.”

“Yeah. Almost done.”

“That’s not—”

He ended the call before she could finish.

The city was quieter than usual, but Bakugou kept moving. Kept looking. Kept finding reasons to stay out longer. He told himself it was because he wanted to clear his head. That was a lie.

His attention drifted toward the brightly lit windows of a high-end sushi restaurant tucked between the buildings below. Mirio’s favorite place. The kind of place he’d take someone for a special occasion.

Bakugou had already passed by it twice tonight. This was the third time.

He hated himself a little more every time. His eyes scanned the tables through the clear windows, searching for any sign of you. A glimpse of your messy hair. That smile he’d been missing all day.

He didn’t even know what he was hoping for. Maybe that the date wasn’t going well, or maybe you’d look up and somehow notice him. Maybe he just wanted proof that he still had time.

Before he had the chance to turn around, a sleek black car pulled up along the curb, immediately catching Bakugou’s attention. His eyes narrowed.

The driver stepped out and walked around to the back, opening the door for the passenger. Then Mirio stepped out. Of course.

A moment later, Mirio walked around to the other side of the car and opened the door for you, offering his hand with that same damn smile he always wore. And then Bakugou saw you.

You stepped out wearing a black gown that was perfectly suited for the setting of the restaurant. The dress was elegant, the dark fabric sitting against your skin as it hugged your figure in a way he’d never seen before. The neckline framed you beautifully, the fabric fitting close around your waist and the draped effortlessly with every step you took.

Nothing like the teacher he’d gotten used to seeing every week in the classroom. You looked good. Really good.

Then Mirio took your hand. You smiled, stepping towards him. You looked so happy, excited.

And Bakugou felt it. The familiar sting of heat gathering in his palms. A sharp crackle of sweat and nitroglycerin building beneath his skin before he even realized he’d activated his quirk. His palm sparked.

“Tch—” Too late.

The explosion tore through the quiet night, sending him flying straight into the side of a nearby building.

“Damn it—” he muttered, pulling himself out of the damage.

Across the street, you and Mirio turned at the sudden noise. Bakugou froze, smoke curling around him as he stared from the shadows. For one second, he was sure you’d seen him.

But after a quick glance around, you simply looked confused before Mirio gently guided you toward the entrance. Neither of you noticed him. Bakugou watched as the doors closed behind you.

“Idiot,” was all he could mutter to himself before launching into the night sky and heading home.

Part 3

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just..” his assistant shuffled, struggling to keep pace. A few months in and she still hadn’t adjusted to her new job working for the Number 2 Pro Hero. A part of her had hoped the abrasive personality she saw on TV and in interviews was just exaggerated for cameras.

It wasn’t.

“You know those kids are really excited to meet you today.”

That earns another scoff from the hero, but this time slightly amused.

“Bet your ass they are.” He jabbed a thumb at his chest, smug grin plastered across his face. “Kids love me.”

His assistant winced. His confidence was..impressive. I guess this is the type of ego it takes to become number two hero, she thought.

With a quiet sigh, she adjusted the folders in her arms and continued trailing after him, praying that Dynamight made it to school before the principal called her angrily.

“Right, before I forget,” she hurriedly flips through her collection of documents before landing on today’s schedule, “Today you’re visiting Sakura Elementary. Third grade.”

“Hm.”

“Room 35. Y/N L/N’s class.” She glanced up at him, “The principal has your visitor pass ready.”

Another noncommittal grunt.

She hesitates before adding, “And I know you don’t look at your emails so please don’t forget.”

Katsuki shot her a flat look. Probably the first look he’s actually given her today. “I look at my emails.”

She clears her throat, “Mr. Dynamight, you have two hundred and seventy eight unread messages.”

“They’re unread for a reason.”

“Just..please don’t be late.” She pinches the skin in between her eyebrows, her posture now slumped over the stack of god knows what she has in her hands. “Okay? Thanks.” His assistant surrenders before turning her back and making her exit. Bakugou furrows his brows at the slight annoyance in her tone as she shuffles out of his office.

Brat. Whatever. Guess it’s time to go see more brats.

“And what is something if it’s neither a liquid nor a solid?”

You looked out at your class of eight-year-olds, who were completely out of control today.

Usually during your lessons they sat in a neat half-circle, criss cross applesauce, their tiny faces turned toward you as they eagerly shouted answers to your questions in unison. Today, however, was the complete opposite thanks to the Hero Commission.

The idea was simple: The Hero Classroom Program had been introduced a few years ago as part of the Hero Public Safety Commission’s push to strengthen relationships between heroes and civilians. Instead of only appearing during emergencies, pro heroes were assigned to local schools to teach students about hero work, quirk safety, emergency preparedness, and what it truly meant to protect others.

It was supposed to help children understand that heroes were more than just flashy costumes and powerful quirks.

Though, based on your students’ behavior today, you were pretty sure they’d forgotten that last part.

“Miss L/N, I’m so boooooored.” You turned toward a student who had his head tipped dramatically toward the ceiling as if he were suffering through the most difficult moment of his life.

“Yeah, didn’t you say the hero was coming?” Another tiny voice added.

At the mention of his name, the rest of the class immediately perked up.

“Yeah!”

“When is he coming?”

“Is he here yet?”

You let out a deep sigh, trying very hard not to roll your eyes in front of twenty eight-year-olds.

In theory, it was a wonderful program.

In practice, it meant that every Friday afternoon, your classroom became the most anticipated room in the entire school. Because your assigned hero was Dynamight. The same pro hero whose name appeared across every news channel, whose explosive quirk had earned him a reputation as one of the strongest heroes of his generation.

And, unfortunately for you, the same pro hero who had a reputation for being… difficult.

You weren’t worried about his abilities. No one could deny that Dynamight was an incredible hero. But being a hero and being a teacher were two very different things.

Kids needed patience. They need someone who can explain things without making them feel stupid. They need someone who understands that a nervous question wasn’t a waste of time and that sometimes the same explanation had to be given five different ways before it clicked.

You just hoped Dynamight understood that too.

You waited patiently, letting the murmuring die down before speaking again. “I know everyone’s excited.”

“YEAAHHHH!” The entire class shouted in unison.

“But if Dynamight walks in and sees a room full of students who can’t follow directions…”

The classroom slowly fell silent.

You let the quiet linger, scanning each tiny, chubby face on the carpet before continuing. “…he’ll think you’re all still in kindergarten.”

The room immediately erupted in outrage. Students crossing their arms and making pouty faces at the thought of being mistaken for a mere five year old.

“We’re THIRD graders!” A students voice rang louder than the rest.

“Exactly. Besides, guys…” You crossed your arms firmly. “He’s only here for an hour.”

A wave of dramatic groans filled the classroom.

You smiled to yourself. You loved the playful banter you had with your students, the way they argued with you like they were your own age.

“Unless Dynamight can teach you guys about the three states of matter, we’re finishing this lesson before he gets here.”

More groans.

But then—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

And the room goes completely silent.

The second the knock echoed through the room, twenty heads snapped toward the door.

Yours was one of them.

Twenty-one.

You blink, looking toward the entrance. Of course, right when you finally got them focused.

The door slid open. Pro Hero Dynamight filled the doorway, broad-shouldered and unmistakable in his hero costume. You wouldn’t say he looked better than he did on TV. Just… real.

Close enough to notice the faint color variation in the scar across his face. The faded scuffs and scratches worn into his gear, and the small marks scattered across his arms. Very muscular arms. You were definitely not staring.

Before you could even process what had happened, twenty tiny bodies launched themselves off, racing toward the broad man at the doorway with the type of excitement kids usually reserve for Disneyworld and birthday parties.

You barely had time to react before a small crowd surrounded him.

“He’s here!”

“Can you make an explosion right now?”

“He’s so much taller in person!”

“Dynamight, look at my quirk!”

You opened your mouth to scold the children, ready to apologize on their behalf for overwhelming a pro hero who had barely stepped foot into the classroom. But your words died as soon as your eyes fix over on the pro hero.

You expected irritation. Maybe yelling? Maybe a very public reminder that he was, in fact, a professional hero and not a classroom attraction.

Instead, he simply stood there, calm despite the swarm of tiny bodies surrounding him. He held his arms out slightly, more focused on protecting his hair and keeping his equipment out of reach than pushing any child away.

“Tch. You guys are loud.” He grunted. There was a slight smirk creeping at his lips.

But then he crouches down slightly to meet the kids at their level, lowering one of the heavy gauntlets carefully. He disconnects the gauntlet, a crisp click disengaging it from his forearm. He sets the machinery down in the circle of children, giving them a closer look. Their tiny heads peering down in awe.

“Don’t touch the trigger mechanism.” His voice is firm as he points at the tiny notch in his gauntlet, “It’s not a toy.”

The kids immediately fell silent around him, listening.

“This equipment’s built specifically for my quirk. It’s heavy, it’s dangerous, and there’s a reason only trained professionals use it.” His voice was rough, a low deep grumble escaping his throat with every few words he spoke. A few students nodded seriously, others stared in awe at the Pro Hero in front of them.

“But you can look.” The Pro Heroes voice rumbled as a smirk spread across his face.The classroom exploded again.

Your eyebrows lifted. Interesting. “Ok, ok everyone back to your spots,” you called out in the midst of the chaos, clapping your hands, “Dynamight just got here and I don’t think you guys have given him a polite welcome.”

The students slowly began returning to the carpet, though not without sneaking a few last glances at his gauntlets.

Bakugo watched them settle down, then looked back at you.

The room had been complete chaos thirty seconds ago. Now every student was sitting exactly where they were supposed to be.They just.. listened.

You caught his stare. “Something wrong?”

“No.” His eyes flicked briefly toward the students before returning to you. “You’re good at that.”

You blinked. “At what?”

“Getting them to shut up.”

A giggle escaped you before you could stop it “That’s one way to compliment my teaching.”

The smallest hint of amusement crossed his face.

You walked toward the front of the room and extended your hand. “I’m Y/N L/N. Third grade teacher and apparently the person responsible for making sure these guys don’t destroy your equipment.”

You were used to seeing him on television, frozen in action shots or surrounded by explosions, but in person, he was much more imposing. He was taller than you expected, broad shoulders stretching against the fabric of his hero costume. You tried not to let his arms distract you this time, they were thick with muscle, the kind that came from years of training rather than simply having a powerful quirk.

Bakugo looked down at your hand for a second before taking it. “Katsuki Bakugo.” His voice was rough and gravelly.

“I know.” A pause. Then you smiled.

Most people reacted to him in one of two ways; either they were intimidated or completely starstruck.

You were neither. Bakugo found that interesting.

“Alright, everyone,” you announced, turning back to the class. “Let’s properly welcome Dynamight before he thinks our classroom is always this chaotic.”

A student immediately raised their hand. “Miss Y/N, it is always this chaotic.”

You sighed. “Thank you for proving my point.”

Bakugo let out a quiet scoff.

And for some reason, he got the feeling he was enjoying this more than he expected.

Pro Hero Dynamight planted himself at the front of the classroom like he owned it. Feet shoulder-width apart, distracting arms crossed over his broad chest, he didn’t say a word at first. He didn’t have to. The room had already gone quiet.

You leaned against your desk with a palm on your cheek, watching with mild curiosity.

“Alright,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the class. “Since you all practically begged to have me here, try using those ears instead of just shoutin’.”

Every student immediately sat up straighter. Well. That was one way to establish authority.

“The first thing you need to know about being a hero,” Bakugo continued, “is that having a strong quirk doesn’t automatically make you a good hero. Any idiot can blow something up.” He paused. “…Trust me, I’ve met plenty.”

A few kids giggled.

One hand shot into the air. Bakugo sighed before pointing at him. “What?”

The boy nearly bounced out of his seat. “Are you stronger than All Might?”

The room buzzed instantly. A dozen heads turned toward Bakugo, waiting. You had to bite the inside of your cheek.

Oh, this should be good.

Bakugo stared at the kid for a long, silent second. “…That’s your takeaway?”

“But are you?” Several students nodded eagerly.

“Who’s stronger?”

“Could you beat him?”

Bakugo pinched the bridge of his nose. “You brats really only care about who’s got the bigger punch.”

“…Yeah,” the class answered in perfect unison. You had to cover your mouth before your giggle escaped.

Bakugo let out an exasperated sigh, dropping his arms. “Listen up. Being a hero isn’t about being the strongest person in the room.”

The class settled almost instantly.

“It’s about knowing when to use your strength.” His voice lost its usual bite, turning unexpectedly serious, “You can have the strongest quirk on the planet, but if you panic, ignore instructions, or get innocent people hurt, you’re dead weight.”

The students listened without a single interruption.

“Real heroes stay calm. They think before they act. They protect people first. Power comes with responsibility. Forget that, and it doesn’t matter how strong you are.”

You glanced around, surprised. Your students could barely sit through afternoon reading time, yet somehow they’d hung on every word.

“So. First thing you do in an emergency?”

Hands shot into the air.

“Stay calm!”

“Listen to instructions!”

“Help people!”

A small girl near the back yelled, “Don’t ask if you’re stronger than All Might!”

The room erupted into laughter.

A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of Bakugo’s mouth before it disappeared just as quickly. “…Correct.”

The kids beamed like they’d won a prize. You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. He was blunt. Loud. Rough around the edges. But he knew exactly how to work with children.

You lowered your gaze back to the paperwork on your desk, pretending you weren’t paying him just a little more attention than when he’d walked in.

The classroom slowly emptied, the last few students calling out their goodbyes as they disappeared into the hallway.

“Bye, Dynamight!”

“Come back next Friday!”

“Remember my question about your explosions!”

Bakugo stood near the door, looking mildly overwhelmed by the amount of attention being thrown his way. “Yeah, yeah. I heard you.” He said under his breath, staring down at each child’s bashful and excited expressions as they skipped out of the classroom.

Once the door finally closed behind the last student, the room fell into a peaceful silence. You turned around, starting to collect the scattered things from your students’ desks.

“Well.”

Bakugo glanced over. “Well?”

“You survived.”

“Obviously.” He said in a tone akin to one of your students.

You smiled at yourself, shuffling a few papers between your hands. “I wasn’t sure. They were pretty determined to take apart your hero costume.”

“They were curious.” Bakugo found himself watching you as you moved around the classroom, quietly gathering the aftermath of their excitement. You went from desk to desk, collecting forgotten papers, stray pieces of trash, and the random miscellaneous items the kids had somehow managed to leave behind.

You were just there, sleeves pushed up, hair slightly messy from managing a classroom full of kids, talking to him like he was just another person.

You glanced up and caught him staring. “Seriously, thank you. This means a lot to them. I’m sure they’ll all be very excited to see you again next week.”

A brief flash of sincerity crossed Bakugou's face before he turned away, giving nothing but his usual deep grunt in response.

“Don’t sound too touched.” You joke.

“Trust me I'm not.” The Pro Hero huffs. Kids weren’t exactly his thing. They were loud, messy, and had absolutely no concept of when to stop talking. Being a teacher would probably be his last choice of profession.

“Right.” You started back towards your desk with a neat stack of papers in hand, unable to wipe away the smile that had crept its way on your face. “You know, I was expecting you to scare them.”

"Did I?" There was a slight note of concern in his voice, a rare hesitation that you weren’t expecting.

"No."

The answer came too quickly. Bakugou noticed.

"And what does that mean?"

You look at him, earnest expression, "It means you're really good with them, better than I thought you’d be if I’m being honest."

Another scoff. “They weren’t that bad.”

You glanced up at Bakugo with the smugest smirk he’d probably ever seen. Which was saying something, considering he was pretty sure he’d perfected the look himself.

He immediately realized what he’d admitted. “What?”

You giggled, quickly trying to muffle it under your breath before you could further irritate the Pro Hero. It did not work.

“Nothing,” you said, still fighting the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m just glad you liked them.”

He took a pause before answering. You weren’t facing him anymore, but you could feel his crimson eyes staring down your back like a laser. “I tolerated them.” He grunts.

“You answered every question they asked.”

A pause. Bakugo looked away from you even though you weren’t even facing him, his voice a little quieter than before. “They were curious.”

Your smile widened. This will be an interesting school year.

The room went quiet for a moment. He looked at you. And annoyingly, he didn’t have a comeback.

“You always this annoying?” he asked finally.

You turned around to face him, finger rested on your chin pretending to consider it. “Only with people who deserve it.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before he could stop it. He quickly masked it with another scoff, like that somehow made the reaction less obvious.

“Guess I’m special, then.” The words came out almost casually, but the slight curve of his mouth gave away the teasing behind them. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to flirt a little bit with the cute teacher, especially when she seemed far too amused by him already.

You blinked. Bakugou smiled, amused at the fact that he was finally able to throw you off.

Bakugou sighed. Somehow, one hour with a classroom full of kids with too much energy had managed to drain him more than a full day of patrol.

By the time Bakugou returned to the agency, he was already halfway to his office when his assistant hurried after him, clipboard tucked against her chest as she followed close behind.

The second he stepped inside, she was right there behind him. “So?”

Bakugo didn’t stop walking. “So what?”

“How was the Hero Classroom Program?”

“Loud.”

The second he answered, she scribbled something down on her clipboard, “Right.”

He dropped his gauntlets onto his desk and sat down, leaning back in his chair. “The kids were annoying.” He sighed, dragging both hands down his tired face.

“Also expected.” She scribbled again.

Usually, after events like this, he complained. About the schedule. About the questions. About how much noise he had to deal with. But this time, he wasn’t.

“…Anything else?”

Bakugo looked over at her. “No.” A pause. Then, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it, “The teacher’s alright.”

His assistant blinked, pen freezing mid-note. “The teacher?” She glanced up at him.

He immediately frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” The assistant’s head flipped back down to her notes, pushing her thick framed glasses up to the top of her nose bridge. The teacher, huh?

Bakugo clicked his tongue. “She’s good with the kids. That’s it.” She hadn’t even asked him about the teacher. I mean, she’s a teacher, of course she’s good with kids.

Instead of a response she gave a slight smile, shifting her clipboard in her arms as she continued scribbling down god knows what in her notes. “What’s her name again?”

Bakugo paused, just for a second.

“L/N.” He ignores how his assistant should already know your name.

The timid woman looked up, because he actually remembered. And she at least knew him well enough to know that meant something.

Bakugo noticed her expression and immediately looked away. “Shut up.”

Later that night, Bakugou sat at his desk, going through the schedule for the following week’s assignment.

He should’ve been focused on the details; the class schedule, the lesson plans, everything he needed to know before stepping back into a room full of loud, unpredictable kids.

Instead, his thoughts kept drifting back. To the way the students had actually listened. To the way you’d watched him, clearly expecting something completely different. And, annoyingly, the way he was pretty sure he caught you oggling at his arms on more than one occasion.

Bakugou smirked slightly to himself, looking back down at the schedule in front of him.

Annoying. He had better things to think about.

And yet, when he reached her name on the schedule, his eyes lingered a second longer than necessary. He stared at it for a moment before quickly moving on.

Whatever. She’s just some teacher.