Hard to Handle [Bakugo x Reader]

twenty two

"What?"

"You heard me." His voice was rough, broken around the edges. "You make me say shit I don't mean. Do shit I don't do. I came there tonight to—" He stopped, like the rest of the sentence was choking him.

"To make me jealous," you finished for him.

He didn't deny it.

You stared at each other, breathing heavy, every inch of space between you loaded like a trigger.

"You used her," you said, voice quieter now, but no less sharp. "You brought that girl in there like she was some kind of prop just to mess with me. She was sweet. Oblivious. She doesn't deserve to be dragged into your little game."

He exhaled hard through his nose, eyes narrowing.

"I don't care about her," he said flatly.

You blinked. "Wow."

"No—" he started, but you were already stepping back.

"No, fuck you. You don't get to say that like it makes it better. You just admitted to using someone. You treated her like a throwaway—"

"I don't care about her because all I was thinking about—" His voice cracked again, this time in frustration. He dragged a hand down his face, then looked at you with something you'd never seen before. Defeat. "All I was thinking about was you."

You froze.

He rubbed his temples, pacing two steps before stopping and shaking his head like he couldn't believe what he was saying.

"I don't know how to deal with you," he muttered. "You're always in my fuckin' head, always pushing me, pissing me off, getting under my skin."

"Yeah, well, likewise, asshole."

He chuckled bitterly. "You think I don't know that I'm being a dick? You think I like this?"

"Then stop!"

"I can't!" he snapped. "I've been trying to since the first goddamn band practice and it's not fucking working!"

You stepped closer again, fists clenched. "Then what do you want from me?"

"I don't know!" he shouted, then looked away, teeth gritted, voice suddenly trembling with restraint. "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, okay? I've never... done this shit. All I've ever done is hook up, leave, and not think twice. That's it. That's all it's ever been."

He looked at you again—no anger this time. Just raw, honest confusion.

"But then you showed up. And I—fuck, I thought it was the same thing. That it was just some need I couldn't shake. But it's not. It's not. I'd be behind the drums, and I'd find myself watching you instead of the music. Thinking about dumb shit like what you're like outside of band. What your favourite food is. If you like waking up to music or silence. I don't get it. I don't get you. And it's pissing me off."

You stared at him. The hallway was dead silent.

"I didn't mean to screw everything up," he said quieter now, voice still hoarse. "But I've been fucked up about this for months. And I thought maybe if I saw you get jealous, I'd get some kind of answer. Or maybe you'd show me I was just imagining it. But... you didn't."

"Bakugo—" you started, but the words caught.

You didn't have an answer either. You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to run and you wanted to stay.