Giantsquid32
Akari meets Bakugou once and immediately puts him in three categories:
too loud, too angry, and way too sure of himself.
At twenty-two, they're both pro heroes forced onto the same secret six person team. The missions are off the record, the higher-ups are lying, and the only thing worse than working with Bakugou... is realizing she might actually need him.
Dual POV • pro hero era • enemies-to-partners energy and messy team vibes.
"You're actually unbelievable," I snap, shoving Bakugou's shoulder as the door slams behind us. "You can't just blow up an entire hallway because you're in a mood."
"We're alive, aren't we?" he fires back, stepping into my space like the concept of personal boundaries personally offended him. "You're welcome, by the way."
"You almost roasted me!" I jab a finger into his chest plate. Bad idea. He's warm. Too warm. I hate my life. "Next time warn me before you go nuclear."
He catches my wrist, grip hot and rough. "Maybe next time don't stand in front of the walking grenade, genius."
We're close. Way too close. His hair smells like smoke and adrenaline and bad decisions. My heart is doing parkour in my ribs and I want to blame him for that too.
"Let go," I say. It's supposed to sound dangerous. It sounds breathless instead.
His gaze drops to my mouth for half a second, rage flickering into something I absolutely refuse to name.
"Then stop touching me first," he mutters, releasing me like I burned him.
I take a step back and pretend my legs aren't shaking. I hate him. I hate him so much.