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Denki didn’t set out to cheese Bakugou. It just sort of… happened.
It all started because of TikTok.
“I swear, it’s a thing,” Denki insisted, waving his phone around like it was the Holy Grail. “People just chuck slices of cheese at their friends, and it’s hilarious.”
“Why,” Shinsou asked flatly from his place on the couch.
“Why not?” Denki countered, grinning.
Kirishima, ever the enabler, leaned forward with interest. “Wait, wait, what kind of cheese are we talking about here?”
“Kraft American singles.” Denki pulled a packet from his pocket like some kind of magician. “I came prepared.”
Sero whistled in admiration. “That’s dedication, bro.”
The conversation might have ended there, a fleeting moment of dumb teenage boy antics, if not for the most cursed thought to ever cross Denki’s mind.
“What if,” he began slowly, letting the weight of the moment settle, “I cheesed Bakugou?”
Silence.
Then:
“No.” Kirishima shook his head violently. “Dude, no. That’s a death wish.”
Sero looked thoughtful. “Actually… I kinda wanna see what happens.”
“You want to see me die?” Denki clutched his chest in mock betrayal.
“I mean, you’re not gonna die,” Sero said, unconvinced. “Probably.”
“Fifty-fifty chance,” Shinsou added.
“Pfft. You guys are overreacting.” Denki waved them off. “What’s the worst that could happen? He gets mad? He’s always mad.”
Kirishima groaned and covered his face. “Bro, you don’t understand. There are different levels of mad. He’s gonna hit cheese-mad, and that’s, like, a whole new category.”
But it was too late. The idea had taken root in Denki’s brain, and if there was one thing everyone knew about Kaminari Denki, it was that once he got a dumb idea, nothing short of divine intervention could stop him.
Which was how he ended up crouching in the common area, cheese slice in hand, waiting for Bakugou to return from his evening run.
Sero had his phone out. Shinsou was watching like this was a social experiment. Kirishima was whispering prayers under his breath.
The front door opened.
Bakugou stomped in, sweaty and exhausted, yanking out his hearing aids and stuffing them into his pocket. He stretched, rolling his shoulders, completely unaware of the lactose-based betrayal awaiting him.
Denki took the shot.
The cheese flew through the air in slow motion, spinning slightly, its fluorescent orange hue standing out against the warm dorm lighting.
It hit Bakugou’s cheek with a barely audible plap and stuck.
For a moment, there was nothing. Just silence.
Then, Bakugou slowly reached up, peeled the cheese off his face, and looked at it.
Denki felt his soul leave his body.
There were no words to describe the sheer horror that settled over Bakugou’s expression. It wasn’t rage—no, rage would’ve been fine. Rage was predictable.
This? This was something else.
A deep, profound level of offense.
“The fuck,” Bakugou said, his voice eerily calm. His crimson eyes locked onto Denki with the intensity of a predator singling out its prey. “Did you just… cheese me?”
Denki squeaked. “Uhhhhh.”
Bakugou took a step forward.
Denki bolted.
“GET BACK HERE, YOU YELLOW-ASS RAT BASTARD—”
Chaos erupted. Denki dashed through the dorms like his life depended on it, which, to be fair, it did. Bakugou was on his heels, faster than he had any right to be for someone who had just finished a workout.
Kirishima winced as Bakugou vaulted over the couch, his short frame barely slowing him down. “Oh man, oh man, oh man—”
“You’re gonna die, dude,” Sero said, sounding almost impressed.
“You should’ve stopped me!” Denki wailed from somewhere upstairs.
“I did!” Kirishima shouted back.
“NOT HARD ENOUGH!”
There was a loud crash.
A moment later, Denki tumbled back into the common area, looking like he had stared directly into the abyss and it had screamed back.
Bakugou followed, clutching the cheese slice like it was Exhibit A in Denki’s trial for crimes against humanity.
“Explain.”
“It—it was a joke?” Denki tried weakly.
Bakugou’s eye twitched. “You threw cheese at me.”
“In my defense—”
“There is no defense.” Bakugou held up the cheese. “Why?”
Denki scrambled for an answer that wouldn’t get him exploded. “It’s, uh. It’s a meme?”
Bakugou stared at him, then at the cheese, then back at him. “A meme.”
“Yes?”
Bakugou took a slow, deep breath. “You do realize I can’t hear shit half the time, right? I felt something slap my face and thought someone was attacking me.”
Oh. Oh no.
Denki’s stomach dropped. “I—oh, dude, I didn’t even think—”
“No, you didn’t.” Bakugou’s voice was dangerously low. “Which is why I’m giving you a five-second head start before I cheese your ass into the next dimension.”
Denki wisely did not waste time asking what that meant.
He just ran.
Bakugou reached into his pocket and, with the precision of a sniper, whipped the cheese slice at the back of Denki’s head.
Plap .
Denki shrieked.
Sero wheezed, barely managing to keep his phone steady.
Shinsou hummed, taking a sip of his tea. “You know, I think Kirishima was right. There is a new level of Bakugou anger.”
Kirishima buried his face in his hands. “I told you guys.”
At that moment, the rest of Class 1-A trickled in, having heard the commotion.
“What the hell is happening?” Jirou asked, taking in Denki curled in the fetal position with cheese on his face and Bakugou standing over him like an angry goblin.
“Dunno, but it’s amazing,” Mina said, pulling out her phone.
“Bakugou, did you cheese him back?” Momo asked incredulously.
“Damn right I did,” Bakugou snapped. “You think I’m gonna let this disrespect slide?!”
Denki peeked up from the floor, rubbing his face. “Dude, ow. That was like a bullet.”
Bakugou cracked his knuckles. “Oh, you’re about to find out what a real bullet feels like, Dumbass McGee.”
Denki yelped and scrambled behind Kirishima, using him as a human shield.
“Mercy! Have mercy, O Great and Powerful Bakugou!”
Bakugou growled, but Kirishima put a hand on his shoulder. “Dude, I think he learned his lesson.”
Bakugou scowled, then snatched the packet of cheese slices from Denki’s pocket.
“No more cheese.”
“...Okay.”
Bakugou glared.
Denki swallowed. “Okay, I swear.”
Satisfied, Bakugou stomped off, but not before chucking one last slice at Denki’s forehead.
Plap .
And as Denki groaned, the rest of the class learned a valuable lesson:
Some lines were not meant to be crossed.
And cheesing Bakugou Katsuki was definitely one of them.
—
Denki had never been so aware of his own mortality.
He was still lying on the floor, a slice of cheese stuck to his forehead, as Bakugou stormed off in a huff, grumbling about "absolute dumbasses" and "cheese-wielding degenerates." The rest of the class stood around in varying states of amusement, horror, and confusion.
“Well,” Sero finally broke the silence, wiping a tear from his eye. “That was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Mina crouched down next to Denki, flicking the cheese slice. “Dude. What possessed you?”
Denki let out a pained whimper. “I don’t know… hubris?”
Shinsou, still nursing his tea like he was watching a documentary on human stupidity, huffed. “That’s one word for it.”
Izuku, ever the worrier, hesitantly approached. “Kacchan didn’t actually hurt you, right?”
Denki waved him off, peeling the cheese from his face with all the dignity of a man who had made the worst decision of his life. “Nah, I think he decided humiliation was enough punishment.”
“Lucky,” Tsuyu croaked. “Bakugou could have actually murdered you.”
“I still might,” came a voice from the kitchen.
Denki flinched. “Dude, how do you move so quietly? You’re like… five feet tall.”
“Five-ten, asshole!” Bakugou shouted back, clearly ready to resume his reign of terror.
Denki, sensing danger, immediately scrambled upright and backed away. “Okay, okay, I accept my fate. I’m sorry. No more cheese.”
Bakugou emerged from the kitchen, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. His hair was still damp from sweat, and his usual scowl was set firmly in place. “Damn right no more cheese. I better not wake up with some dairy-based bullshit on my face, or else.”
“Understood.” Denki held up his hands in surrender. “No pranks. No cheese. No cheese-related pranks.”
Bakugou grunted, apparently satisfied, and turned back toward the kitchen.
“…So, no butter either?”
Bakugou froze.
Denki had never regretted speaking more in his entire life.
The room collectively inhaled.
Then Bakugou lunged.
Denki yelped and darted behind the couch, barely avoiding the absolute onslaught of rage that was Bakugou. “I WAS KIDDING! KIDDING! PLEASE!”
“You think this is a joke, Pikachu?! YOU WANNA DIE?!”
Jirou, arms crossed, leaned toward Momo. “Should we stop this?”
Momo sighed. “I feel like if we tried, we’d just get caught in the crossfire.”
“Fair.”
Meanwhile, Denki was running out of escape routes. Bakugou was faster than someone his height had any right to be, and the entire dorm was now a battleground. He dove into the hallway, skidding into the kitchen in a desperate attempt to put some kind of barrier between them.
“BAKUGOU, MERCY!”
“No.”
The sheer finality of that response had Denki rethinking all of his life choices.
Bakugou was this close to grabbing him by the collar and hurling him into the shadow realm when suddenly—
“What the hell is going on?!”
Aizawa.
The entire dorm went silent as Class 1-A’s exhausted, overworked homeroom teacher stood at the entrance, looking done. His sleeping bag was bunched up under one arm, his hair was even messier than usual, and his dark circles were somehow darker than before.
Denki, still crouched behind the kitchen counter, saw his only chance at survival.
“Sensei!” he called dramatically, clutching his chest. “I have been attacked!”
Bakugou snarled. “You are so full of shit—”
Aizawa slowly exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to know. I really don’t.”
“Thank you,” Shinsou muttered under his breath.
“But,” Aizawa continued, leveling them both with a warning look, “if I hear one more noise complaint from the staff, I am personally making both of you run laps until dawn. Am I clear?”
Denki and Bakugou both nodded rapidly.
Aizawa sighed. “Good. I’m going to sleep. If I wake up to screaming, I’m expelling you both.”
The entire room stood still until Aizawa finally shuffled back toward his dorm. The moment the door closed, Mina immediately burst out laughing.
“I—dude—” She was practically wheezing. “I can’t believe you just cheesed Bakugou.”
“Shut up,” Bakugou grumbled.
Sero clapped Denki on the back. “Congratulations, you’re officially the dumbest person in this dorm.”
“I accept my title with honor,” Denki said, solemnly placing a hand over his heart.
Shinsou, now sprawled lazily across the couch, smirked. “So… what are you gonna do about retaliation?”
“Retaliation?” Denki blinked.
“Oh, Denki.” Shinsou shook his head. “You seriously thought this was over?”
It took about 0.2 seconds for Denki to realize his mistake. He turned back to Bakugou, who was no longer vibrating with rage but had instead settled into something much worse.
Something cold. Calculating.
Denki gulped. “Bro.”
Bakugou’s lips curled into a slow, evil grin.
“You think I’m gonna let this go?” he said, voice almost soft.
Denki panicked. “Okay, okay, I will do anything—”
“Good.” Bakugou rolled his shoulders.
Denki looked to his friends for help. Kirishima avoided eye contact. Sero gave him an apologetic shrug. Shinsou just smirked.
“Betrayal,” Denki whispered.
—
Denki had never felt more alone in his life.
It had been three days since The Cheese Incident™, and while Denki had expected Bakugou’s vengeance to be brutal and unrelenting, nothing had happened.
No sneak attacks. No forced training sessions. No sudden explosions in his direction.
Nothing.
Which was terrifying.
And then, things started getting weird.
It began subtly. Little things. Strange, isolated incidents that no one else seemed to notice.
Like the way his phone would randomly blare Vine sound effects at full volume whenever he unlocked it. Or how his textbooks had all mysteriously been replaced with printouts of Skull Trumpet and Loss memes.
Or the fact that every time he opened his dorm room door, there was a single, perfectly placed emoji pillow just staring at him.
The first time, it was the 😂 emoji. The second time, it was 👀.
By the time he walked in one night to see a 😈 pillow on his bed, he knew.
Bakugou was messing with him.
But only him.
No one else saw it. No one else believed him.
“Guys, I swear to God, Bakugou is memeing me.”
Shinsou didn’t even look up from his coffee. “That’s the dumbest sentence I’ve ever heard.”
“No, listen!” Denki waved his arms frantically. “He keeps pranking me but in the most cursed way possible! Like—like, I woke up to my alarm playing the Thomas the Tank Engine EDM remix!”
Sero snorted. “Bro, that’s kinda funny.”
“It’s psychological warfare!” Denki yelled. “Psychological warfare!”
Mina raised an eyebrow. “And you think Bakugou, our Bakugou, is capable of that?”
“I KNOW WHAT I SAW.”
Izuku, ever the skeptic, frowned. “But… Kacchan doesn’t do memes.”
Denki whirled on him. “That’s what he wants you to think.”
A brief silence.
Then Jirou scoffed. “You’re losing it, dude.”
Denki groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “I swear to—okay, okay, if I can prove it, will you guys believe me?”
Shoto blinked. “How are you going to prove that Bakugou is, as you say, ‘memeing you’?”
“I—I don’t know yet! But I will!” Denki jabbed a finger at his own chest. “I will find the evidence, and when I do, you’re all gonna regret not trusting me.”
“Uh-huh.” Shinsou took a long, slow sip of his coffee. “Sure.”
Day Five
Denki was suffering.
It had escalated.
There were now Vine sound effects randomly inserted into every single ringtone on his phone. Anytime he got a message, it was either “What’s up, fuckers?!” or “Road work ahead? Uh, yeah, I sure hope it does.”
His entire search history had been replaced with nothing but Stock Photo Surprised Pikachu and Shrek is Love, Shrek is Life.
His alarm was now set to Nyan Cat at max volume.
And the worst part? No one believed him.
Because Bakugou was a mastermind.
Every time Denki tried to expose him, Bakugou was perfectly, eerily normal in front of the others. No memes. No hints. No evidence. Just a classic, scowling, no-nonsense Bakugou.
Which meant Denki looked insane.
He had never known true psychological torment until he walked into his dorm room and found his entire laptop screen filled with nothing but GIFs of the Fortnite default dance.
“YOU’RE A MONSTER,” Denki wailed.
Bakugou, sitting at Denki’s desk, arms crossed, smirked. “What, Pikachu? You don’t like your new aesthetic?”
“I hate it!”
“Then why am I having so much fun?”
Denki pointed an accusing finger at him. “Why are you like this?! Why are you doing this to me?!”
Bakugou leaned forward, smirk widening. “Because you cheesed me, dumbass.”
Denki groaned. “It was one piece of cheese—”
“I don’t forget.”
“IT WAS A SINGLE SLICE—”
Bakugou pulled something from his pocket.
A single, sealed slice of Kraft cheese.
Denki recoiled like he’d seen a demon. “Oh my god, you’re insane.”
Bakugou slowly unwrapped the cheese.
Denki backed up. “Wait. Wait, dude—”
Bakugou raised the slice, smirking.
Denki panicked. “BRO, PLEASE—”
And then, in slow motion, Bakugou just slapped it against Denki’s forehead.
Denki screamed.
—
The next morning, Denki stumbled into the common area, bleary-eyed, clutching a cup of coffee like it was his lifeline.
Shinsou raised an eyebrow. “Rough night?”
Denki exhaled through his nose. “I’ve seen things.”
Momo, looking up from her book, frowned. “You look like you haven’t slept.”
“Because I haven’t.” Denki took a shaky sip of his coffee. “Bakugou got me. He got me good.”
“Oh?” Mina smirked. “So you finally admit it was all in your head?”
Denki glared at her, hollow-eyed, broken. “No. I mean he’s too good. He’s playing the long game.”
“Dude.” Sero rolled his eyes. “You’re seriously still on this?”
“Yes.” Denki’s grip on his mug tightened. “And I have accepted my fate.”
Jirou raised an eyebrow. “Which is…?”
Denki closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Then, with the weight of a man who had been utterly, completely defeated, he whispered:
“Bakugou is the Meme Lord.”
The room was silent.
Then Shoto, with complete sincerity, said, “I don’t know what that means.”
Denki groaned and dramatically flopped face-first onto the couch.
From across the room, Bakugou smirked behind his cup of tea, eyes glinting with amusement.
He had won.
—
Denki was so over this.
He had been memed into submission. Humiliated beyond reason. Tortured by Fortnite dances and Vine sound effects. Tormented by a cheese-wielding maniac.
And yet—
And yet.
Every time Bakugou smirked at him, every time those sharp red eyes gleamed with mischief, every time he casually flipped Denki’s world upside-down just to prove he could…
Denki felt something stupidly warm in his chest.
Something dangerous.
Something that had no business existing in the wake of The Cheese Incident™.
And it needed to stop.
Immediately.
Day Seven
Denki had a plan.
A stupid, desperate plan.
Because if he couldn’t win against Bakugou, he was going to do the next best thing—
Confuse the hell out of him.
Which was why, at 3 AM, Denki knocked on Bakugou’s door with a singular heart-shaped cheese slice in his hand.
The door swung open.
Bakugou stood there, eyes narrowed, hair a mess, looking just as grumpy and dangerous as always.
Denki swallowed.
This was either the best idea he’d ever had—
Or the absolute worst.
“… What the hell do you want?” Bakugou growled, voice rough with sleep.
Denki slowly, wordlessly, lifted the cheese slice.
Bakugou’s eyes flicked to it.
Then to Denki.
Then back to the cheese.
A long silence stretched between them.
Finally, Denki cleared his throat.
“I… uh. I figured. Since you love cheese so much, you should have this.”
Bakugou’s eye twitched.
Denki grinned, nervous. “You know. To symbolize my complete and total surrender.”
Bakugou stared.
“… You woke me up. At three in the goddamn morning. To give me a heart-shaped cheese slice.”
Denki nodded solemnly.
Bakugou blinked.
Then—
He snorted.
Snorted.
Denki nearly had a stroke.
“I—OH MY GOD, YOU LAUGHED.” Denki pointed at him, scandalized. “I HEARD IT! I HEARD IT WITH MY OWN EARS.”
“Shut the hell up, idiot!” Bakugou snapped, but he was grinning.
Like, full-on grinning.
Denki’s brain short-circuited.
“… Oh my god.”
“What?”
“You’re cute.”
Silence.
Absolute, deafening silence.
Bakugou’s face went blank. Then—
Boom!
Instant explosion!
Not literal—thankfully—but Bakugou’s entire face went up in flames.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL—”
Denki, emboldened by the sheer audacity of his own existence, decided to double down.
“You’re cute when you’re evil.” Denki smirked, stepping closer. “And I think you love messing with me.”
Bakugou froze.
Because shit.
That was true.
He did love messing with Denki. Way too much.
It had started as revenge, sure. But somewhere along the way, it had turned into… this.
This stupid little game.
This stupid little—
Shit.
“Holy crap.” Denki grinned wider. “You like me.”
“I WILL KILL YOU.” Bakugou slammed the door directly in Denki’s face.
A beat of silence.
Then, muffled from inside the room—
“FUCK.”
Denki cackled.
Day Eight
Bakugou avoided him all day.
Which only made Denki more insufferable.
At breakfast? Denki slid him a note that said “do you like me? yes ✅ no ⬜ maybe 😘” and almost got his face blown off.
At lunch? Denki winked at him from across the cafeteria, and Bakugou nearly choked on his rice.
At dinner? Denki simply sat next to him, smug as hell, not even saying a word. Just existing.
Which, somehow, was worse.
Finally, at 9 PM, Bakugou snapped.
He stormed into Denki’s room, slammed the door shut, and growled, “YOU THINK YOU’RE SO GODDAMN FUNNY, DON’T YOU?”
Denki, lying on his bed, grinned up at him. “I mean. A little.”
Bakugou scowled. “Tch.”
Silence.
Denki tilted his head. “Sooo…?”
Bakugou huffed, arms crossed. Glaring.
Then, after a long, painful pause—
“… Maybe.”
Denki blinked. “Huh?”
Bakugou’s ears went red. “I said maybe, dumbass.”
Denki lit up.
“Oh my god.”
“Shut up.”
“You actually—”
“Shut. Up.”
Denki sat up, still grinning. “Sooo… does this mean I get to kiss you?”
Bakugou glared.
Then sighed.
Then, very reluctantly, muttered, “… If you must.”
Denki nearly had a stroke.
“OH MY GOD—”
“JUST DO IT BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND.”
Denki, absolutely buzzing, leaned forward, cupped Bakugou’s face, and pressed the softest, dumbest, giddiest kiss to his lips.
Bakugou melted.
Just for a second.
Just long enough for Denki to feel it—the way Bakugou leaned into him, just barely.
And holy shit.
It was good.
When they finally pulled away, Denki was beaming.
And Bakugou—red-faced, glaring, flustered as hell—grumbled, “If you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”
Denki, still dazed, whispered, “Babe, you literally just kissed me.”
Bakugou’s eye twitched.
“SHUT THE HELL UP.”
Day Nine
Denki stumbled into the common area, dazed, glowing.
Shinsou raised an eyebrow. “You good?”
Denki collapsed onto the couch, grinning.
“I won.”
Shoto blinked. “Won what?”
Denki sighed dreamily.
“The game.”
Meanwhile, from across the room, Bakugou grumbled into his tea, pretending he wasn’t listening.
He was, in fact, very much listening.
And failing spectacularly at hiding his tiny, tiny smile.