dallanebbia

[dallanebbia]

tell me (what you’ll do to me tonight)

fandom: bnha pariring: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 7.1k warnings: nsfw, couch sex, size kink/difference, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, overstimulation, edgeplay, rough sex, squirting synopsis: the highlight of ochako’s week is her recurring dick appointment with her abrasive, explosive former classmate. notes: so in preparation for nsfw kacchako week, i'm writing a few smut fics to get my writing juices flowing. big dick bakugou was just begging to be written :) the fic title is from ‘dinner and diatribes’ by hozier! ao3: [link]

tell me (what you’ll do to me tonight)

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

Like most nights, it started with a voicemail, left sometime between her lunch break and the end of her patrol.

“8pm.” The voice was low and gruff, as if the call had been made in a rush. “Keep the front door unlocked.”

Ochako rolled her eyes as she replayed it again, listening to the brusque words once more before deleting the message. She threw her phone onto her couch, ignoring how it disappeared into the cushions – she usually hated fishing the damn thing out, but she couldn’t bring herself to care as an eager smile curled at her lips.

She laughed to herself a little. If someone had told her sixteen-year-old self that she’d be casually sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki in ten years’ time, she would’ve called them crazy – yet here she was, waiting for her abrasive, explosive ex-classmate to come over and fuck her stupid on an otherwise uneventful Friday night.

In a way, it had all started because of Mina. Her best friend had dragged her to one of the Bakusquad’s monthly get togethers in an effort to spice up her social life – and as the alcohol started to kick in, the drinking games quickly followed. 

Ever the gossip, Mina had jumped on the opportunity to suggest a silly confession game – only to turn around and ask about everyone’s biggest kinks after a few warm up rounds. The pink haired woman pointedly singled her out with a wicked smile, but Ochako had gotten the last laugh as she admitted to being a bit of a masochist with a not-so-subtle size kink. Bakugou couldn’t take his eyes off of her after that, and at the end of the night, she found herself riding his dick so hard that she passed out.

Ochako woke up the next morning to hulking shoulders and blonde spikes tucked snugly between her thighs, and the rest was history.

She slapped her cheeks to pull herself out of her thoughts, shaking her head as she headed to her bedroom. Stripping out of her ratty pajamas, she tugged on a pair of booty shorts and an off the shoulder crop top, leaving out a bra – easy access, with the benefit of looking somewhat cute.

Not that it would make a difference – Bakugou barely paid attention to what she wore, preferring it when she had nothing on at all.

A glance at the clock showed that she had about ten minutes left. Checking to make sure her front door was unlocked, she settled on her couch, reluctantly digging her phone out of the cushions. Slumping back, the only thing she could hear was the faint, garbled sound of voices filtering through her windows – the quiet was almost comforting, the calm before the storm, and she closed her eyes to mentally prepare herself for what was to come.

Sex with Bakugou always felt like the relentless barrage of a monsoon, implacable and intense and insistent. He never failed to wring every little bit out of her, demanding her all the same way he did whenever they ran into each other in the field. The blonde poured all his frustrations out into her like a torrential downpour, leaving her breathless and dazed and used – and had she been as prudish as people assumed, she might have been ashamed at how much she loved it.

Good thing she wasn’t the shy type.

Her ears picked up the sound of heavy footfalls coming down the hall, the steps pausing outside her apartment only to preface the squeak of her front door opening. Even from where she was, she could hear the hiss of frustration in Bakugou’s voice as he slammed the door shut, turning the deadbolt with a click as he yanked off his combat boots. The familiar, heavy thuds that followed made her perk up – she could recognize the sound of his gauntlets hitting the floor in her sleep by now.

The fact that he had come here straight from his patrol meant that he was more worked up than usual. Ochako exhaled slowly, eyes fluttering open as she licked her lips – it was going to be a rough night, and the butterflies exploded in her stomach at the thought.

“Cheeks?”

“In here,” she called out, and turned to see Bakugou rounding the corner, gritting his teeth and looking worse for wear. He was still in his hero costume, gloves and neck brace dangling from his hand as he yanked his mask off, and he tossed all of his accessories onto her battered coffee table before leaning down to kiss her hungrily.

Ochako’s lips fell open as he nipped at her lip, letting him roughly invade her mouth with his tongue. He cupped her jaw, maneuvering so that he could slant his lips across hers more deeply, and she let out a whine when Bakugou dragged his hand down to settle just above her collarbones.

“Shit,” he mumbled, sucking on her lip for another moment before drawing back with a pop. He stared down at her, a mix between a glower and a smirk as he took in her blissful expression with a satisfied growl. “Been waiting all fuckin’ week for this.”

Ochako huffed, shooting him a glare despite the blush staining her cheeks. “Hello to you too, Bakugou,” she said exasperatedly. “I had a great day, how was yours?”

“Tch.” The blonde narrowed his eyes, drawing his thumb up the side of her throat in a way that made her heart pound. He gave an experimental squeeze. “Mouthy today, aren’t you?”

“I thought you liked that?” she said breathily, eyelashes fluttering at the warmth of his skin on hers.  

“That’s a fuckin’ lie, Cheeks.” A mean look glittered in his red eyes. “Keep bein’ a brat and I’m gonna make you regret it.”

Ochako pressed her thighs together at that, swallowing thickly. “And if I don’t stop?”

Bakugou bared his teeth in a feral grin, eyes flashing as her throat moved beneath his hand. “Careful what you wish for, babygirl,” he murmured, fingers tightening one last time before letting her go. “Or I’m gonna fuck all that attitude out of you.”

Anticipation coiled in her abdomen as he stepped back, reaching over his shoulder to pull his shirt off in one smooth motion. Ochako didn’t bother to hide how her eyes shamelessly devoured the sudden expanse of skin on display – Bakugou had shot up like a weed in their third year, growing into his large hands and filling out his frame. Even after all this time, she never got tired of looking at him, perfection carved from sinew and scars and steel.

“That doesn’t sound all that bad to me,” she drawled, raising an eyebrow in challenge, and he barked out a short laugh, his expression going predatory and he shucked his pants and underwear off. His thick cock bobbed in the air, curving deliciously towards his abs, and Ochako’s mouth went dry at the thought of being stretched open.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he rumbled, before dropping onto the couch next to her and hauling her into his lap. He tangled his fingers into her hair, forcing her head to the side to bare her neck as his other hand snuck up under her top, roughly rolling a stiff nipple between his knuckles. The sting at her scalp, combined with the way he kneaded at her breast, made her toes curl. “You’re just askin’ for it.”

Bakugou licked along her jawline, blowing hot air into her ear before he dove in and started to nip down her neck. Angry red marks bloomed across her pale skin, and when he reached her shoulder, he bit down on the muscle sharply. She could feel him grinning around the mouthful of flesh when she yelped, her hips bucking against him on instinct.

“Stop teasing,” she panted, letting out a high whine as Bakugou switched to her other breast to tweak at the nipple threateningly. She scrambled against his torso, nails raking down his bare chest. “Fuck, Bakugou – ”

The hand in her hair tightened suddenly, forcing her head to arch away from him in a backbend. The fingers at her breast disappeared, only to deliver a sharp, hard slap against the bare skin of her outer thigh.

“That’s not my name, babygirl.” 

Ochako jerked, moaning quietly. “Daddy, please,” she gasped, and Bakugou rewarded her by sucking another bruise into her skin, right above her collarbone. “Please, just fuck me already!”

“Tch,” Bakugou sighed, and she froze at the hungry expression on his face as he drew back to look her in the eye. “It’s almost like you want to get wrecked tonight.”

She could feel her blush spreading down from her face, but Ochako didn’t bother to hide how she squirmed at his words. “Just get on with it already,” she muttered under her breath, but by the way Bakugou pinched her nipple sharply in retaliation, he heard her loud and clear.

“I think you forget who’s in charge, babygirl,” he said lowly, his voice deepening into a growl, and something in her gut jumped in breathless anticipation.

The grip on her hair eased, only to yank her crop top over her head, leaving her torso bare. She didn’t even have the chance to protest before she was roughly dragged down onto the couch, lying face down across Bakugou’s lap. A heavy arm settled low across her back, and Ochako gasped when he tugged her shorts and her underwear down to her ankles. She kicked them off with a flick of her foot, giggling as they narrowly sailed past Bakugou’s nose to land somewhere on the floor.

“Always gotta be a fuckin’ brat,” he scoffed, grabbing a handful of her ass and testing the give under his palm. “Fifteen times should be enough, hm?” Ochako tried to play coy, but couldn’t hold back her pleased sigh as he ran a calloused hand over the firm curve of her bottom, arching into his touch.

Without any warning, Bakugou drew his hand back and brought it down across one cheek, hard.

“A-ah!” Ochako gasped, bucking a little against the press of his arm, and squeaked when he pinched the back of her thigh.

“You know the drill, kitten,” he murmured, rubbing the sore spot. “Count.”

“One,” she whispered, and Bakugou hummed.

The next hit landed near the underside of her ass, still on the same side, and she whimpered as a simmering heat started to spread, both across her skin and low in her gut.

“T-two.”

Two swats to the other side, then one that landed across both cheeks in a way that made her twitch against his hold.

“Three, four. Five.”

“Good girl,” he crooned, smoothing over the sensitive flesh gently. Then, he slapped her inner thigh, brushing against her entrance as he went. The impact sent a jolt of lust shooting straight down to her abdomen.

“Six,” she breathed, and couldn’t hold back her sharp inhale when he did it again, this time even closer to her aching cunt. “S-s-seven…”

Ochako whined when she felt him rub his thumb over her outer lips, petting them so gently that she was writhing in his lap. Her legs fell open, seeking his touch as she gave him more access – only to be rewarded with a slap directly on her pussy, the impact making her choke as her walls spasmed.

“Daddy…” Bakugou dragged the edge of a nail up her cunt, tracing a line from her clit all the way up to her ass, teasingly pressing against the little hole. Her core ached, and she wanted to sob when he pulled away, his hand setting on her thigh. “Daddy, please —"

“Number, kitten, or I’ll start over.” His fingers dug into the plump flesh, waiting. 

“E-eight!” she cried out, her entire body throbbing as she fought against his steady hold. “Please – ”

“Shh…. I’ve got you.” He massaged her, kneading at the taut hamstrings, and just as she was relaxing into his lap, Bakugou delivered four consecutive spanks to the backs of her thighs.

“N-nine, ten, ele – fuck!” Ochako lurched forward, crying out loudly at the dull aftershocks of pain radiating up and down her legs. All she could hear was a loud ringing in her ears as she squeezed her knees together. “E-eleven, twelve – ”

“Keep those legs nice and open for me, babygirl.” Bakugou murmured, waiting until she obediently spread herself wide to reach in to cup her mound. He deliberately nudged her swollen and neglected clit with his fingertips, and Ochako keened as he rubbed the heel of his hand into the slick wetness dripping out of her.

She felt lightheaded from the flood of sensations. The throbbing heat on her flanks and thighs only accentuated the torturous grind of his calloused palm and fingers, trying her best to rock into every twisting, goading stroke. Ochako was so fixated on the slowly building pleasure that she didn’t register him drawing away until it was too late.  

The slap that landed over her cunt made her scream.

“Thirte-een!” She felt her spine curving as her eyes rolled back, her voice breaking, and she sobbed as Bakugou gently caressed her quivering core.

“Two more, babygirl,” he purred, smacking the flat of his palm across each cheek in quick succession. “Count them – ”

“F-fourteen and fifteen! Fourteenandfifteen, please – ”

“Good girl,” he cooed, scooping her up and slotting himself between her shaking thighs as he settled her back into his lap. Ochako felt like she was floating, her brain in a hazy state of need and lust and want as her heartbeat rushed loud in her ears, and her breath caught as his cock wetly slid up against her clit.

“S’that all you’ve got?” she said shakily, even as Bakugou watched her in a mixture of amusement and irritation. He could see right through her bluff; he knew exactly how to work her up with only his words and his touch, and she could already feel a tightness coiling itself at the base of her spine. 

“Don’t worry, babygirl… m’gonna fuck you so well,” he promised, the words murmured lowly as he skimmed his palms over her backside, rubbing the tingling, reddened skin soothingly. “You want that? Want me to fill you up?” 

One hand slipped down, dragging his fingertips teasingly across the seam of her pussy. Ochako mewled, bucking her hips slightly, and sighed in relief as Bakugou teased her entrance with two fingers.

She could feel the rumbling groan reverberating down from his chest as he sunk in without any resistance. Tilting her hips forward, she widened her knees and sighed when Bakugou obligingly pushed the digits straight down to his knuckles, spreading them inside her. 

“Oh god,” she breathed, closing her eyes as he tugged on her hair again, exposing the long line of her throat. “Please, daddy, pleaseplease – ”

“Fuck.” Ochako swallowed back a moan as he leaned in to suck another bruise into her neck, right below her ear, before whispering hotly, “How badly do you wanna cum?”

“So bad.” A third finger slipped in beside the others, then a fourth - and the sudden, delicious burn drew a greedy gasp from her chest. “Please, I wanna cum, wanna so much – ”

She could feel the knot of tension growing in her stomach as he rubbed against her slowly, the obscene, wet sounds of her dripping cunt accompanying her heavy pants. He wasn’t fucking her – instead, he was petting her upper wall with gentle strokes, fingertips curling over her sweet spot, and the searing pressure building in her belly drew a quiet sob from her throat. She was already close, just a tiny bit more and she could –

Ochako let out a frustrated cry as Bakugou withdrew his fingers, leaving her walls clenching emptily as she was dragged back from her impending orgasm. He offered her a sly smile, caressing her spine one more time before cupping her cheek and brushing his thumb across her lips.

“Condom first, baby,” he chided, clicking his tongue when she tried to nip at his fingers.

She huffed, but obediently leaned over to her rickety side table, flipping open the lid of a wooden box to reveal a handful of condom packets. Ochako grabbed one, ripping the foil open with her teeth and rolling it quickly over Bakugou’s cock, before licking a wet stripe up her palm and reaching down impatiently.

“Later, kitten. I wanna fuck that cute little pussy first.” He batted her hand away, using the fingers still coated in her slick to roughly pump at his shaft. Ochako pursed her lips in a pout, but all she earned was a low chuckle. “Sit up for me.” 

She obediently rose up onto her knees, shuffling forward as Bakugou tugged her close. He nuzzled at the swell of her breast, teasing her with a sharp, rough suck that had her seeing stars. 

“When I let you come, it’s gonna be on my cock,” he murmured around her nipple, and there was a quiet pop as he let go, switching to the other side. Ochako wheezed as he scraped his teeth across the sensitive bud, letting out a reedy sound of agreement. “Nowhere else, babygirl.” 

Large hands settled on her waist, guiding her as she lowered herself into his lap. Ochako whimpered when the blunt head of his dick prodded at her core, swallowing back the tiny, instinctive flutter of nervousness. 

Even after so long, she wasn’t quite used to Bakugou’s size. He was huge, thicker and longer than any of her exes or toys, and the thought of being split open on him filled her with an addictive mix of both excitement and trepidation.

He stroked her stomach soothingly as he started to sink into her, and Ochako forced herself to relax as his tip slipped inside. Her legs shook as he eased her open, but she immediately tumbled headfirst into a delicious, dizzying ache when he continued to push in.

“W-wait, wait – oh god –” She couldn’t hold back a cry as Bakugou lifted her back up and dragged her down on him again, his cockhead sliding against her walls as he worked himself deeper. The jolt of pleasure was overtaken by the aching tension of her cunt stretching around his length, and she instinctively locked her knees to scrabble for a chance to adjust. “M’not… daddy, m’not ready – ”

“I’ve been waiting, kitten,” he growled, his breath hot against the delicate skin of her throat. There was a quiet warning wrapped in the words, an edge that made her core clamp down in a mixture of apprehension and lust. His fingers dug into her flesh almost threateningly as he spread his knees, nudging her thighs open even wider. “Be a good girl for me, yeah? Let me in.”

The feeling of her walls around his cock made Bakugou groan, and slowly, Ochako let her legs fall lax, sinking a little lower onto his length with a whimper. It burned – the heat coiling sharp and low in her stomach, almost searing itself into her core – but somehow, it still felt so, so good.

“That’s it… m’gonna stuff you so full,” he cooed, staring up at her with a hungry smirk. She trembled, her mouth falling open as she fluttered helplessly around him. “So good, so goddamn pretty, trying to take all of me in that sweet little pussy…”

Ochako choked, torn between wanting to squirm away and fuck herself onto him even more. The hazy sensation of pain mixing with pleasure overtook her – with how thick he was, Bakugou’s cock never failed to press up against the sweet spot tucked deep in her cunt. Every time he slid up against the bundle of nerves, her vision went white.  

“D-Daddy…” A particularly sharp thrust pulled a sob from her throat. “Please, I can’t –”

“Yes, you can. You’re doing so good for me already…” One of Bakugou’s hands slid down, the rough pad of his thumb sliding easily down the cleft of her mound to roll over her clit, drawing languid circles around the nub. “You can take it all, baby, I know you can.”

She bucked into his touch with a gasp, the waning warmth blazing back to life with only a few quick movements. Without thinking, she tried to widen her legs, and squealed loudly when Bakugou took the opportunity to rut into her sharply. The sudden, heady rush of pleasure-pain made her eyes roll back.

“Oh fuck – ” Ochako felt herself hurtling towards her orgasm, her spine going taut as a telltale pressure wound itself tighter in her stomach. “Please, please – I’m – I’m – ”

“Already?” Bakugou chuckled lowly, his eyes bright as he greedily drank in every broken pant and breathless gasp. “You wanna come, babygirl? You wanna come all over my cock?”

The pace of his circling thumb doubled, catching Ochako off guard with the sudden onslaught of pleasure, and she couldn’t hold herself back as she fell apart. Heat exploded through her body, liquid pleasure filling the cracks and crevices in her lungs as she screamed. She could hear her own breaths rattling in her chest, stuttering as her cunt fluttered helplessly around Bakugou’s shaft, and when she finally came down from her high, she registered the soft kisses trailing across her collarbones.

“Look at you, all wrecked... just from getting that cute, needy cunt of yours fucked open,” he murmured. The whispered words sent a fresh wave of slick pooling in her abdomen, even as her core shook with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “Even when you don’t listen to daddy, you’re still such a pretty little slut.”

Shifting a little, she whimpered as Bakugou flexed his hips, dragging his cock against her sensitive walls. He pressed a final kiss to the underside of her chin, caressing her hips before curling his hands into the crooks of her knees.

Ochako couldn’t hold back a shudder as he pulled her legs up to hook her calves over his arms, adjusting her so he had more freedom to control her movements. His palms fit snugly in the crease between her ass and her thighs, fingers testing the give of her plush flesh, and the position left her entirely at his mercy.

“Shh, relax,” Bakugou crooned, low and soft, and she keened as he gave an experimental thrust that pushed straight past the edge of too much, making her vision go blurry. Ochako felt tears rise at the uncomfortable, intense sensation of his cock breaching even deeper. “C’mon, babygirl, I know you can do it…”

With her legs trapped, all she could do was scratch helplessly at Bakugou’s broad shoulders as he continued to ram into her, insistently pulling her down to meet every jerk of his hips. Ochako let her head fall back as the world narrowed to the raw, torturous friction between her thighs. Her mind filled with a constant stream of toomuchtoomuchtoomuch – and when his cockhead butted up against her cervix, the pressure of it forced the air from her lungs in a gasp. 

“H-hah! Daddy… daddy, too much,” Ochako whispered, her voice weak as her breath caught on a sob. She could feel the tears trickling down her cheeks from the overpowering sensation of pleasure and pain battling for dominance, and the wet sound of his cock plunging into her core made her head spin. “I-it’s too big… p-please – I can’t – “

With a drawn-out groan, Bakugou forced the last bit of his length into her. His brows were knitted into a snarl as she squeezed around him like a vice – it felt like she was going to explode out of her own skin when he finally bottomed out, the press of their sweaty, sticky skin uncomfortably hot. Her eyes stung from both the sweat dripping down her temples and the tears spilling out, and Ochako hiccupped softly through gritted teeth.

“Shh… you’re so good for me, babygirl.” Bakugou mouthed at her jaw, fingers digging into her ass as he ground up against her. “I’m so fuckin’ proud of you, letting me stuff you full even when it hurts – ‘m gonna take such good care of you…”

She trembled with the effort to just breathe, still folded like a pretzel in his arms. The only thing she could do was moan weakly as he started to rock into her slowly, rolling her across his lap as he leaned in to catch her lips in a kiss.

Ochako let him suckle at her lip, coaxing her mouth open as she responded blearily, her head still a mess of impressions and sensations as he continued to work her over his cock. It was like she was being pulled apart and stripped bare, the tension that had wound itself through her chest burrowing into her blood and bones, spreading through her limbs and overtaking every one of her senses.  

“My perfect little cockslut,” Bakugou growled, shifting his grip to hook his hands around her back and over her shoulders, forcing her body to literally fold itself in half. The new position left her even more exposed, her knees framing her breasts as she bounced in his lap. Each slap of skin on skin sent a fresh wave of slick dripping onto his shaft. “Taking my cock so well… fuck, who’s pussy is this, huh? Who does this sweet little hole belong to?”

“You, daddy, you, your pussy – ” she babbled, the words falling from her mouth without thinking. All she could do was let out a mindless slur of agreement, her head swimming hazily. “S’yours, I’m yours – oh g-g-god, please pleaseplease – ”

In her daze, she didn’t notice Bakugou’s head snapping up to look at her with feverish, bright eyes, but she shuddered almost violently when he leaned forward to take a mouthful of her breast, intent on leaving a lasting mark before biting his way back up to her throat. With every scrape of his teeth against her skin, the deep-set ache and almost painful pleasure started to shift towards that familiar, molten heat that bellied an inevitable orgasm – each time he drove into her, it felt more and more like he was trying to carve a place for himself in her cunt, molded to fit him perfectly.

“So good, so fuckin’ pretty, so fuckin’ tight,” he panted, his voice going ragged. His movements started to get sloppy, the rough drag of his length against her walls almost burning her from the inside out – irresistible yet unbearable, all at once. “This is where you belong, babygirl, right here – just like this, split open on my cock, fuck fuck fuck – ”

Ochako felt punch-drunk and dizzy and overwhelmed, an odd weight settling heavy in her core as bloomed low in her gut. It was unfamiliar, almost like there was something sweltering deep in her core that kept swelling and growing, relentlessly dragging her towards her peak.

“Yes, yes, yes – please,” she whispered, her voice breaking as her back bowed sharply. Bakugou buried his face into her heaving breasts, laving his tongue across her straining nipples. “Oh – daddy – ”

“Say my name when you cum,” he rasped, his jaw clenching as Ochako’s eyes fluttered open in surprise. “Fuck – please – ”

“W-what?” she stammered, “Bakugou?”

“Fuck, not... not that,” he snarled, tilting his hips and pulling a scream from her hoarse throat. “Shit, my first name, babygirl – say it – !”

“Ka… Katsuki!” She dug her nails into his skin, too far gone to register his pained hiss as her head fell back in a loud shriek, shattering as the cresting wave of her climax crashed over her without warning. Black spots bursting across her vision as her body seized, shaking as she kept cumming, more and more and more – until she finally fell limp, crying in relief.

She was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness from the sudden drop in adrenaline, but Bakugou gathered her into his chest, continuing to rock into her. He grunted as he fought against the grip of her walls for a few more haphazard thrusts before releasing a feral growl that she felt more than heard, her ear tucked up against his rumbling sternum.

Ochako slumped bonelessly in his arms, listening to Bakugou catch his breath and wincing as he lowered her legs down to fall weakly around his thighs. After a moment, a gentle hand came up to cup her face, coaxing her to sit up as fingers swiped across the wetness on her cheeks. “So good, babygirl,” he mumbled, and her heart did a weak flip in her chest as she listened to his soft reassurances. “You did so good for me, took me so well –”

She reached up slowly, following the curve of his neck up to the back of his scalp and scratching gently. “M’okay, daddy,” she sighed, and tugged lightly at his hair until she could lean up and press her lips to his.

Bakugou sighed into her mouth, pulling back to adjust the angle of the kiss. It was sweet and slow, and Ochako quietly savored the intimacy of it as she fought the urge to close her eyes and fall asleep.

When she drew back, he smoothed his fingers over her face, frowning at the puffy redness of the skin below her eyes. “You good?” he asked gruffly.

“Yeah.” Shifting a little, Ochako winced as Bakugou flexed his hips, dragging his cock against her oversensitive walls as he pulled out. She furrowed her brows a little as she finally registered the sticky wetness lingering over her skin, and when she looked down, her mouth fell open in stunned shock.

Her couch was, for lack of a better word, soaked. Bakugou’s thighs were wet against her skin, and a veritable puddle was spreading across the worn fabric of her couch cushions. “W-what…. what the…?”

“You squirted, babygirl.” Bakugou grinned a little smugly, and her face burned in mortification as she heard a muted squelching sound when he leaned over to grab a few tissues from her side table. He eased the condom off his softening cock, wrapping it up and tossing it into the trash can stashed next to her couch. “It was hot as fuck.”

“That’s… I’ve never…” Ochako buried her face in her hands, a high-pitched whine escaping in her embarrassment. Bakugou laughed, pressing another kiss to her shoulder and smoothing a palm up and down her side. “Oh god.” 

“You’re gonna need a new couch, Cheeks,” he said in amusement, letting his forehead fall into the crook of her neck. He brushed his lips against one of the bite marks, but both of them looked up when they heard four loud stomps come from the ceiling, a muffled ‘keep it down!’ filtering through the drywall. 

Ochako turned bright red and Bakugou cackled, “Might need to move too – ”

“Fuck,” she whisper-screamed, glancing up at the ceiling in horror. “Takeda-san… she’s half-deaf, if she could hear us… oh my god, I’m never going to be able to look at anyone in this complex, ever again…”

Bakugou shook his head with a huff, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his chest once more. “Who the fuck cares about what some shitty extras think,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “They’re just jealous they’ve never been fucked so well in their short, sorry lives.”

Ochako swatted his shoulder half-heartedly, but couldn’t hold back the smile starting to curl at the corners of her lips. “Still,” she said, giggling a little. “They’re going to think I’m some kind of sexual deviant – ”

“Nothing wrong with havin’ a healthy appetite,” he shot back, nuzzling her hair. She just hummed in response, snuggling a little closer and basking in the heady scent of sex and smoke and burnt sugar. 

After a few minutes, Ochako frowned when he shifted underneath her. “Am I too heavy?” she asked worriedly, ready to slide away, but she blinked when his hands caught hers, tangling their fingers together. “… Bakugou?”

He was silent for a moment, before clearing his throat. “What happened to Katsuki?” he asked, and she stilled.

“I… I thought that was a sex thing,” she said slowly, her stomach turning heavily.

“Calling me daddy is a sex thing,” he grumbled, watching her carefully. In the dim light, he looked strangely solemn, his wine-red eyes focused and intent. “We’ve known each other for years, Cheeks – s’not that big of a deal.”

“Well… I mean, isn’t that kind of intimate?” Ochako asked, trying to swallow back the lump in her throat. “Stuff like that just seems… I dunno. Private. Like, a couple thing, or between super close friends…”

“What if it was?” She drew back, cocking her head to the side as Bakugou stared down at her with an unreadable expression. “A… couple thing.”

“What?”

Bakugou ground his teeth together, grimacing, but then took a deep, heavy breath. “… fuck it,” he grumbled, and met Ochako’s incredulous expression with a fierce look of his own. “… be my girlfriend.”

She blinked, wide eyed. She stammered, voice weak as she repeated, “W-what?”

“Be my girlfriend,” he said again, and a muscle in his jaw jumped when she continued to stare at him in bewilderment. “S’not like I’m fuckin’ proposing, Cheeks, why the hell do you look so surprised?”

“I... I didn't…” She opened and closed her mouth, trying to find the right words. Ochako was still half dazed from her orgasm, her brain a jumbled mess, and she felt like she was having whiplash as she tried to gather her thoughts. “…. I never...” 

It was the wrong thing to say; Bakugou visibly deflated at that, clenching his teeth. “... Right.” 

“Wait, hold on – ” He had already started moving away from her, lips twisted in a grimace as he tried to pull his hands back, but she forcibly held on, pinning his arms to the back of the sofa and boxing him in. “Fuck, Bakugou – just wait a second!” 

“Get off me,” he hissed, baring his teeth. “I swear I’ll – ”

“You can’t just spring that on me and expect a coherent answer after you basically fucked my brains out,” she retorted, and he looked a little abashed at that. “Just… let me think, okay?”

“... tch. It’s whatever.” He fell limp in her grip, but the bitter tilt of his mouth didn’t change. “I got the message, Cheeks. Loud and fuckin’ clear.”

“That’s... not…” She faltered as he glowered angrily at a spot behind her. He had literally brought it up out of nowhere – how else was she supposed to react? “Look, I… I didn’t even know you liked me like that.” 

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffed. “You seriously think I’d come over every week to fuck you if I didn’t like you?” 

“You know that’s not what I mean,” she pressed, pushing him back into the cushions. 

“Then what the fuck do you mean?” he barked out, and the words fell out of her mouth before she could take them back.

“I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way, okay?!” 

He paused, eyes flickering to try and catch her gaze, and it was her turn to look away. 

Ochako knew she had a type. She gravitated towards people she admired, people who inspired her to be better – but where Deku had, and still, looked at her as someone who needed to be saved, Bakugou only ever saw her as an equal. Falling for him during their last year at U.A. hadn’t really come as a surprise, but she had been too afraid of losing his respect to ever make a move. 

After a few seconds of silence, Bakugou shook his head. “... that’s bullshit,” he grumbled, but his voice was softer now. “Do you have any fuckin’ clue how long I’ve been mooning over you like some goddamn moron? Years, Cheeks. Literal years.”

“... what?” She had to be dreaming, because there was no way she was hearing him correctly.

“You heard me.” He released a self-deprecating snort, letting his head fall back. “Look… if you’re not interested, just fuckin’ get it over with – “

“It’s not that, okay?” His head snapped forward, blinking, and her mouth went dry. 

“Then fuckin’ explain it to me – ”

“Bakugou, I’m trying, okay?” She shut her eyes, trying to swallow back her frustration. “Just… please.”

She had gone through the whole process of hopeless pining a long time ago, resigned to be seen as nothing more than another hero colleague or an occasional sparring partner. Bakugou’s interest in her, after that dinner all those months ago, had felt like a cruel twist of fate, but she was pathetic enough to take what she could get. 

Since then, she had become a master at compartmentalizing – but right now, she felt like a raw nerve, one touch away from being overwhelmed. Finding out that he did have feelings for her – that he’s had feelings for her, all this time – she didn’t know what to feel. It made her want to both laugh and cry at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. 

For a few seconds, the only thing she could hear were their soft breaths, syncopated against the dull murmur of the street outside, before she felt him squeeze her hands. “.... Katsuki,” he murmured, and when she looked up in confusion, his scowl had been replaced with something different – an expression she was almost afraid to name. “I already told you to call me Katsuki.” 

She felt her cheeks grow hot. “... K-Kat… Katsuki,” she stammered, flushing when he gave her a tiny, pleased smile in return. She took a steadying breath, licking her lips as she tried to explain the mess of thoughts swirling in her head. “I… I don't know how to – ”

“Ochako.” 

Her mouth snapped shut, and the corner of his lip quirked up, ever so slightly. He said her name like he was tasting it, and her gut lurched as he leaned forward to meet her gaze squarely. 

“Yes?” she squeaked.

The bitter anger from earlier was replaced with a look of dogged intent, and it felt like he was looking into her soul. “You’re overthinking things,” he said, and something vulnerable flickered across his features. “Since I gotta spell it out for you, Cheeks – I like you, okay? I want you; I just need to know if you want me too.”

Her heart felt like it was trying to burst out of her chest, and hearing him say that made her feel like flying and throwing up all at the same time. Bakugou wasn’t one to mince words, but hearing him speak so plainly threw her off-kilter. 

“It’s.. it’s not that easy – ”

“Yes or no, Cheeks.” 

“I - okay, yes, I want you – I like you, but – ”

“Then that’s it,” he said simply, and she blinked at how serious he sounded. He brought their clasped hands to his mouth, kissing the back of her outstretched pinky finger. “S’like you said. You’re mine... and I’m yours. M’not gonna let you get away.”

It was sappy and cheesy, but oddly, it was also such a Bakugou thing to say – and beneath her unimpressed frown, her cheeks were a soft pink. 

“It’s not just that.” He frowned as she continued, “Look, what we have now… it works. But if we do date, and it doesn’t work out…what then?”

“It’ll work out.” He said it so assuredly, so determinedly – and she wondered where all that confidence was coming from. He paused, adjusting his grip so he was holding her hands more securely. “... and even on the off chance it doesn’t… you’re worth the risk,” he said quietly, and that felt like a sucker punch to the gut. 

He said it so tenderly – so unguardedly – that she had to fight the sudden, visceral urge to grab something to cover herself from his gaze.  Ochako wasn’t the type to be shy about her body, but she felt open and bare and exposed in an entirely different way than before, and she didn’t know how to react to it. 

“That’s… you can’t just say things like that,” she complained, ducking her head. If he hadn’t been holding her hands, she probably would’ve floated herself in her embarrassment. “You – you – ”

“We’re heroes. We take risks every fuckin’ day – what’s one more?” From the corner of her eye, she saw Bakugou’s lips curl into a teasing smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re scared, Cheeks.”

“I’m not scared,” she protested, lips pursed as she tried and failed to hold back her affronted huff. “Besides, we…  we haven’t even gone out on a date yet!”

“I can fix that,” he said, shrugging.

“What if… what if –” 

“Ochako… it’ll be fine.” He snorted when she inhaled sharply at the sound of her name, another blush blooming across her face. “C’mon. Don’t you think we’ve danced around each other long enough?”

She chewed on her bottom lip, thinking, before peering up at him through her eyelashes. She felt nervous, her heart pounding and her throat thick, and Bakugou wasn’t much better. His leg was bouncing ever so slightly underneath her, while his cautiously hopeful look started to gain an anxious edge as the seconds continued to tick by in silence.

“... So? You in or what?” 

Ochako swallowed, feeling all those bottled-up emotions sitting heavy in her belly, itching like an old scab. She closed her eyes with a deep, shaky breath. It felt like she had a hummingbird trapped in her chest, blood rushing into her ears as he stroked his thumb soothingly over her knuckles – and a tiny part of her asked, why not? 

“...Okay,” she whispered. “... okay.” 

Bakugou grinned, tugging one hand free so he could wrap an arm around her waist, and hauled her in so they were chest to chest. “Fuckin’ finally.” 

She melted a little as he pressed a kiss to her lips, the tension visibly draining from his body as he gently probed at her mouth, his tongue curling around hers. Ochako let herself fall against him, letting her fingers sneak up and around his shoulder to draw little shapes across the scarred skin. 

When he finally drew back, he dropped another kiss to the apple of her cheek, and again at her temple before releasing a content sigh. Ochako tucked herself under his chin, taking a deep, heavy breath, but she couldn’t help ask, one more time.

“... You sure about this?” she asked softly, breath fanning across his collarbones. “About me?” Their still-joined hands lay against her bare thigh, and despite how they were both still sticky and sweaty and wet, Bakugou seemed entirely comfortable just staying like this, tucked together. 

“I’m sure, Cheeks.” He traced a path up her spine, resting the weight of his palm across the nape of her neck. The heat emanating from his skin felt comforting, and she slowly melted into him. “Trust me.” 

And when he said it like that – so boldly, like he had no doubts – she found that she did. 

#kacchako #bakuraka #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #nsfw #bnha smut #bnha #by nebbia #fanfiction

[dallanebbia]

agape

fandom: bnha pariring: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 9.0k warnings: angst, mentions of panic attacks synopsis: ten ways to say ‘i love you’ – moments in the relationship between ochako and katuski. future fic, third year. notes: written for day 7 of kacchako week 2020, with the prompt ‘it was always you.’ this was the first fic i finished writing, and i threw a truck’s worth of tropes into this just because i could. i headcanon an empathetic, compassionate ochako and a soft, self-aware katsuki who grow and mature in their later years at u.a. ao3: [link]

agape – Ancient Greek, selfless, unconditional love

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

March: With a hand on their shoulder, a song on your lips, or a carton of their favorite ice cream in the freezer.

On move-in day of her third year at U.A., Ochako confesses to Deku. She can’t say that she’s surprised when he rejects her, but she hides her real feelings behind a practiced, wobbly smile. 

It feels like someone has just stomped all over her heart.

Within a few hours, the entirety of her class, along with Class 3-B, knows what happened. Nobody realizes that Ochako just doesn’t want to talk about it – people keep bringing it up to her, trying to be consoling, but it just makes her feel worse and worse. 

Finally, when she can’t take it anymore, she hides away on the roof of the dorms, trying to find a moment of peace. 

Ochako is alone, collapsed on the ground and crying when she hears the door to the roof scrape open. 

“Oi.” Her heart drops. Aside from Deku, Bakugou is the very last person she wants to see right now. 

“Leave me alone,” she croaks, wiping her cheeks with her sleeves. The fabric is damp, soaked through with her tears. It stopped being useful about ten minutes ago, but Ochako doesn’t really have the presence of mind to use anything else. 

“Tch.” Her blonde classmate scoffs. “You’re seriously crying over the dumb nerd?” 

“The last thing I need right now is your stupid gloating, Bakugou,” Ochako hisses, and glares at him. “Go. Away.” 

Not that she thinks he’d actually listen, but she’s caught off guard when he squats down in front of her, elbows resting on his knees. “Forget about stupid Deku, Round Face. He’s a fucking dumbass.” 

Her heart twinges, and a fresh round of tears fill her eyes. “You’re seriously not helping –”

“I thought you were better than this, Cheeks,” he says, and Ochako looks up to see Bakugou scowling. “So he doesn’t like you – tough shit. Pull up your big girl panties and move the fuck on. He’s a fuckstick who doesn’t deserve you anyways.”

She opens her mouth to retort, but pauses as the words register in her brain. 

When the news spread, everyone who came to comfort her all said the same things - that Deku would come around, that he’d change his mind if she proved that she was better off without him. She knows that her friends mean well, but all she can focus on is the fact that everyone assumes that Ochako is the one who has to change – like she somehow isn’t good enough. 

Bakugou – her occasional sparring partner, an acquaintance-turned-friend by virtue of exposure more than anything else – doesn’t even hesitate.

He doesn’t deserve you anyways.

“Don’t call him that,” she mutters, but there’s a tiny smile on her lips. Who would’ve guessed that the boy who had wanted to be King Explosion Murder would one day be comforting her? “You’re such an asshole.”

The blonde rolls his eyes. “I’m a fucking saint,” he snarks, and shoves a handkerchief into her trembling hands. “Stop crying already, you look ridiculous.”

Ochako glares at him again, but begrudgingly uses the black square of fabric to dab at her face. The heady smell of sugar and smoke fills her nose, and it’s the complete opposite of the clean soap scent she associates with Deku. It’s comforting, somehow.

“Move on, huh?” She laughs sadly. “You say that like it’s so easy.” 

He flicks her in the forehead, and she yelps in surprise. “Nothing worth doing is gonna be easy, Round Face. You know that just as well as I do.”

It’s her turn to roll her eyes, but the words resonate deeply and leave her feeling pensive. She folds the handkerchief neatly and tucks it into her blazer pocket. “I’ll wash it,” she promises, but Bakugou waves her off. 

“Keep it.” He stands, grabbing her wrist and hauling her to her feet. A familiar, challenging smirk that spreads across his face. “You’ll need it for when I beat your ass in the Sports Festival again this year.”

She scoffs, and even though she probably looks like a pathetic mess, she feels a little better. She can always count on Bakugou to not treat her like she’s spun glass. 

Ochako sticks her tongue out, some of her grief dissipating without her even realizing it. “In your dreams, Blasty.” 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

April: Casually, as if you don’t mean it. Trying like hell not to mean it.

From the stove, Katsuki listens to Uraraka make up some excuse to skip out on going out with her shitty friends for ramen. He looks over his shoulder – she’s smiling in a way that doesn’t quite mask the tight line of her mouth, and it’s so obvious that Frogface and Four Eyes exchange wary glances. Uraraka heads back upstairs, and as she leaves, Deku seems to visibly deflate.  

“Maybe I should go talk to her,” he hears Deku mumble sadly, and Katsuki rolls his eyes before turning back to the pot of curry he has sitting on the stove. 

“She probably wants some space.” Somehow, Half-and-half is the only one of their little group left with any sense, and it's really fucking pathetic.

“But isn’t it better if –” Katsuki tunes out the shitty nerd’s voice as they pass the kitchen and head to the front door, focusing back on stirring. 

He tests the consistency, frowning as the curry comes out too thick, and turns up the heat a little as he adds some more stock. He’s usually pretty good about eyeballing the ingredients, but to be fair, the shitty nerd was jabbering away about something dumb with Icyhot. Usually, when things don’t go his way, it all leads back to Deku, one way or another. 

He grabs the jar of hot sauce, and is just about to dump the entire contents into the pot when he suddenly pauses and thinks of Uraraka again. 

Should he…?

Katsuki wages an internal war for about thirty seconds before slamming the jar onto the counter, grabbing a spare bowl. He doesn’t let himself think as he ladles a spoonful of curry onto a bed of rice, making sure that there’s a proper ratio of vegetables and meat to sauce, and places it off to the side as he dumps the hot sauce into the pot. He gives the curry a quick stir, turns the heat down low, and grabs a spoon before heading to the elevator with the bowl in hand. 

It smells good, and even though it’s missing the familiar red tinge that comes from the hot sauce he loves, he knows that it tastes good too. Still, he can’t help it when a flutter of nervousness blooms in his chest. 

There’s a stupid English proverb that comes to mind. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Never mind that he’s flipping the roles around; he just hopes that Uraraka will like it. 

Katsuki knocks on her door firmly, rapping his knuckles against the cheap wood. He can hear the shuffling of fabric, a low grunt, and then Uraraka is standing there. The frustrated look in her eyes fades at the sight of him, and he absolutely hates that his breath catches when she smiles at him.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” She sounds happy to see him, her tone totally different from earlier, and something in him glows in pleasure. Uraraka tilts her head to one side, before finally noticing the bowl of curry in his hands. Her eyes go round as dinner plates. 

“I… I made too much.” He thrusts it towards her with one hand, averting his eyes. “Since you’re not going out with those extras, I just –”

“Oh, wow,” she says softly. She takes the bowl carefully, and when the skin of her fingers touches his hand, he feels goosebumps crawl up his arms. “It smells so good, Bakugou! Thank you!” 

“Don’t mention it,” he grunts, and then shoves his hand into his pockets. She’s standing there, inhaling the savory aroma with a stupid smile on her face, and his nerves are frazzled as he blurts, “Well? Don’t just stand there, taste it!”

Uraraka blinks, looking at him with surprise. “Oh...  oh! Yeah, let me just –” She balances the bowl in her palm, scooping up a mix of sauce and rice and meat before raising the spoon at him in a weird little toast. “Itadakimasu!” 

She stuffs the entire spoon in her mouth, her eyes closing blissfully as she chews, and she does this ridiculous, adorable little wiggle that makes his heart thump pathetically in his chest. 

“Oh my god, I love you so much,” she moans, and his mouth drops open in stunned shock. The sound of her voice jolts down his spine like ice. “I could kiss you.” 

“W-what?? What the fuck, Uraraka?” he yelps, stumbling back a little. It’s not that he hasn’t imagined her saying things like that to him, but he isn’t exactly expecting to hear it right now.  

Uraraka’s eyes flutter open, and there’s a split second of dreamy contentment on her face before the realization hits. She squeaks, and nearly drops the bowl in mortification.

“Oh god, I didn’t  –  I didn’t mean that to  –” she stutters, her face turning red. “That came out wrong! I just meant that  –  I haven’t eaten since yesterday, and I wasn’t having a good day because I was missing my parents, and then you made this and I’m just  –  I’m really happy, I’m sorry  –”

“Tch, it’s… it’s whatever, Cheeks,” Katsuki grumbles, heat crawling up the back of his neck. Uraraka’s words burn into his brain, cycling on repeat, and he suddenly, he feels like he could run a fucking marathon. He’s almost drunk on the feeling, and doesn’t even think as he blurts out, “Someone’s gotta keep you round.” 

There’s a beat of silence, and then it’s his turn to freeze. “Fuck. I didn’t mean … shit, not that you’re fat or whatever, you’re hot, okay? I wasn't talking about your ass… fuck, I mean, your face! Your face, I was talking about…motherfucker –”

God, he wants to go die in a hole. 

Uraraka stares at him as he snaps his mouth shut, hugging the bowl to her chest, and her face is a bright pink. “Um,” she squeaks. “Uh, I…” 

The awkward silence between them is physically painful, and Katsuki is too mortified to move for about three seconds before he bolts for the stairs. 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

May: Through laughter, over a chorus of voices, knowing it’ll strike home anyway. It��s meant for everyone here, after all.

Aizawa gives them the day off before the Sports Festival, banning them from training. Most people take advantage of the free day to relax and destress, but a few people still sneak into Ground Zeta for extra training before being lugged back to the dorms by Aizawa’s capture weapon. 

Mina and Kaminari suggest a class bonding activity as everyone fixes their lunches. The slots for the impromptu Class 3-A Mario Kart tournament fill up quickly, but Ochako opts out to watch instead of participating. Most of the boys are quick to start the games, Bakugou included. 

She hasn’t spoken to him since the curry incident, but the memory of it is something Ochako thinks about often. His awkward stammering had been both embarrassing and endearing, and even now, remembering the fumbling compliments makes her blush. 

The most attractive boy in their class, and possibly in the entire school, thinks that Ochako is hot. It’s a surreal but amazing confidence booster, especially after the rough few weeks she’d had, and although Bakugou’s ears turn red whenever they make eye contact, he doesn’t suddenly ignore her and he doesn’t take it back. 

Instead, he returns her glances with intense stares, ones that sometimes make her turn away from embarrassment. Their spars gain a playful edge, teasing out an odd, thrilling tension that leaves her face flushed and her cheeks aching from smiling. 

It makes her heart beat a little faster every time she meets his gaze, and it’s different because she can see that it means something to Bakugou too. 

It’s nice. 

“Uh… is this seat taken?” Ochako snaps out of her thoughts to see Deku standing in front of her, looking sheepish. 

She realizes with a sinking heart that the only available spot in the room is on the loveseat by her side. Mina and Tooru aren’t being discreet in the way they’re whispering excitedly while staring in their direction, and everywhere she looks, people are casting them curious glances.

It makes her a little angry, but Ochako pastes a smile on and says, “Go ahead, Deku.” 

He lowers himself onto the cushion carefully, and she pulls her legs in so that she’s sitting in a ball, arms wrapped around her knees. She glances towards Bakugou, who’s staring at the TV screen and determinedly not looking in her direction, but somehow knowing that he’s there helps her relax a little. 

“I’m sorry,” Deku says quietly, and Ochako holds back her sigh. They’ve had this conversation multiple times since she confessed weeks ago, and it was starting to grate on her. She was training to be a fellow Pro Hero – does he really think that she can't take a rejection?

“I know, Deku.” She tries to smile reassuringly. “I’m okay with it.” 

“Still. I never wanted to hurt you, Uraraka.” Bakugou’s words come back to mind, and she has to bite back the tiny thread of resentment that sprouts in her chest. Deku said that before too. At this point, she wonders if the repeated apologies are for her benefit or his. 

“Deku.” The green-haired boy looks up at her, a little surprised by the firmness of her tone. “I understand that you’re trying to be considerate, but you keep bringing it up when I already told you. I’m fine.” 

“I just…” He trails off, frowning. “I just feel like you’re mad at me.”

“I’m frustrated,” she says candidly. “I’m trying to be mature about this, but you’re making it really hard for me to move on when you keep bringing up how sorry you are. Can we just agree to be friends and forget about it?”

“... are you okay with that?” He looks a little shocked, and so do some of her eavesdropping classmates. From the corner of her eye, she can tell that about half the room is listening to their conversation, but she doesn’t care. Ochako is sick and tired of people making offhand comments and references to her and Deku. She still has some feelings for him, but the combination of repeated apologies and continuous gossip have worn her down to where only frustration and exhaustion remain.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asks. Deku stammers, but Ochako doesn’t waver. “I love you as a friend, first and foremost. That hasn’t changed. But my world isn’t going to end just because you don’t return my feelings.”

“… Oh,” he mumbles, looking a little ashamed. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” 

“Well, you did.” 

“I know you just said not to but... sorry,” he says quietly. “Last time, I promise.” 

Ochako unfurls herself to lean over and give Deku a side hug. “Thanks. Friends?” 

“Friends.” He smiles. “I love you too, Uraraka.” 

There’s something bittersweet about hearing those words, but it doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. She opens her mouth to reply, but a heavy weight suddenly throws itself on her back. 

“God, you guys are so manly,” Kirishima sniffs, leaning over the couch to wrap his beefy arms around the pair of them. “Bakubro, why don’t you ever tell me you love me?” 

The disgusted look on Bakugou’s face is so funny that Ochako can’t hold back the tiny snort that escapes. “I hate you,” he says flatly. 

“Love you too, bro!” Kirishima just calls back cheerfully, beaming despite the middle finger Bakugou aims in his direction. 

“What the hell, why is Bakubro the one who gets an ‘I love you?’ ” Kaminari appears from behind a different couch like a gopher, looking offended. 

Sero pops up right next to the electricity manipulator with a matching expression on his face. “Yeah, bro, what gives?” 

Kirishima yelps as the pair of them lock their arms around the redhead’s neck, pulling him off of her and Deku as they start wrestling in a pile on the floor. Ochako can’t quite keep track of things, but in the span of a few seconds, Mina has jumped into the fray, dragging Jirou and Momo and Tooru along with her. 

Aoyama leaps in too, somehow bringing Ojirou and Sato along for the ride, and Tokoyami’s protests are drowned out by Dark Shadow lifting him up and dumping him head first into the mass of bodies. The final addition comes as Todoroki nonchalantly tumbles into the chaos, dramatic declarations of love echoing above the music from Mario Kart playing in the background. 

Despite her earlier frustrations, Ochako can’t help but sit back and watch the growing dog pile with a fond smile.

“God, I love you guys,” Mina crows loudly, and Ochako can’t help but join the chorus of voices that echo the sentiment. Across the room, she sees Bakugou sneering at the display of affection, scanning over the room until his gaze meets hers. 

She smiles a little, raising her eyebrows at him in a silent question, and something she can’t quite name glows in her stomach when he rolls his eyes at her, the barest hint of a grin curled behind his hand. 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

May: Slipped under your tongue, twisted into something else. “I trust you,” maybe. Trust them to figure it out.

The Sports Festival is bigger this year than it ever has been before. It’s everyone’s last chance to prove themselves, their final showcase before graduating, and nobody wants to go down without a fight.

Katsuki is pitted against Uraraka in the quarter-finals. The fight between them is an intense, heavy-fire version of tag that leaves him exhilarated, grinning wildly as they dodge and duck and weave around each other. Her quirk is leagues beyond where it was in first year, and it shows when Uraraka literally lifts the entire stadium floor out from under her feet before swatting him out of his Howitzer Impact like a fly. 

He wakes up in time to watch the final matchup between Uraraka and Deku, and proceeds to spend the next twenty minutes screaming at the infirmary television in frustrated rage. 

It’s painfully obvious that Deku goes easy on her. He pulls his punches, uses a fraction of One for All, and when he lets Uraraka push him out of the ring, Katsuki can see the incandescent, seething anger that emanates from her in literal waves. 

That night, he finds her on the roof again, after the award ceremonies are over. She’s crying, but this time, there’s resentment and bitterness and fury in place of the brokenhearted grief. Her gold medal is lying on the ground by her feet, discarded to the side. 

“You were right, you know,” she says, laughing hollowly. She doesn’t have to look to know that he’s there. “First place… it isn’t worth anything when you win it like this.” 

He doesn’t say anything – he knows exactly how she feels, and he knows better than anyone that empty platitudes will only make things worse. Instead, he leans against the railing at her side, back facing the horizon, and quietly waits as she uses the handkerchief he gave her weeks earlier to mop at her face. 

They stand there in silence, and at some point, Uraraka shuffles closer and closer until she’s leaning on him, head heavy against his arm. He slouches a little more so that she can rest against his shoulder, and watches her nuzzle against the sleeve of his gym uniform. 

“Is it always like this?” she whispers, so low that he almost misses the words. “Feeling like you can never catch up, like you’re always walking in someone’s shadow?” 

“Welcome to the club, Cheeks,” he says gruffly. Katsuki looks over at her, and she’s staring blankly into the setting sun, tear tracks shining on her cheeks and the bruise below her left eye a mottled green. “Membership includes being referenced in relation to the shitty nerd in every article you’re in for the rest of your life, toxic friendships, and a crippling inferiority complex.” 

Uraraka snorts. “Any way I can get my member status revoked?” 

“If you find out, let me know,” he mutters. “Been trying to get the hell out for as long as I can remember.”

She doesn’t answer, instead pressing the back of her hand against his wrist. Her skin is cool and dry, soothing against his perpetually warm body temperature, and Katsuki savors it. 

“God, I’m going to be the biggest joke in all of Japan tomorrow.” Uraraka laughs a little wetly. “After today, after everyone saw how he just let me win – nobody’s going to take me seriously.”

She says it like she isn’t amazing – like she’s just another worthless extra, like she didn’t just single handedly hand his ass to him only a few hours earlier. She says it like she’s giving up, and what Katsuki was planning to say – something quippy and grouchy and vaguely encouraging – is replaced by words that say everything, all at once.

“I do,” Katsuki says quietly, and she stills. “I always have.”

Slowly, she draws away, pulling back so she can turn and face him head on. He keeps his gaze steady, even as he wants to look away. 

Part of him hopes that she’ll take it at face value, take the words as encouragement and nothing else. Things would be easier if she did – he’d be able to take his feelings and hide them for days and months and years, like he’s done since she caught his eye back in their first year. He’d be safe for a little while longer, waiting for the perfect moment. 

At the same time, a larger part of him wills her to read between the lines, to see underneath the surface, because this is the closest thing to a confession he can manage. She knows him – she sees him the way Deku never could, and she’s able to read him in ways that took Eijirou years to pick up. 

She knows him, and when the realization crosses her eyes, he plucks the truth out and lays himself bare. 

There’s no going back.  

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

May: Over a nervous smile, biting back the just-this-side-of-desperate hope they’ll say it back.

Ochako doesn’t know when her feelings start to change. It might have been the curry incident. It might have been the spars. It might have been that moment on the roof, and it might have even been the Sports Festival, two years ago.  

What she does know is this: she’s in the middle of falling for Bakugou when she recognizes her feelings for what they really are, and what she feels is nothing like what she felt for Deku.

With Deku, she had felt like she was in freefall, somersaulting and trying to right herself when she didn’t know which way was up or down. It felt scary and frantic, and in some ways, she feels that she confused her fear with adrenaline and her admiration for love. 

With Bakugou, it feels familiar. It feels like she’s standing on the sparring mats in Gym Zeta, intimate and safe, with the spark of competition and plenty of passionate intensity to keep things alive. It feels like a dance – an equal push and pull, an ebb and flow that works in tandem rather than apart – and she doesn’t have to chase after anyone because he’s facing her instead of leaving her to watch his retreating back.

So when Bakugou says those five words, she pulls back a little so she can look him in the eye. He waits, patiently, as she studies him, and even though she can see the hope and love and fear in his steady gaze, he never looks away.

“Are you sure, Bakugou?” She has to make sure. 

He raises an eyebrow. “You really have to ask?” Yeah, I am.  

Ochako reaches out, grazing her hand against his, and she swallows when Bakugou slowly slides his fingers between hers. 

She stares at the sight of their entwined hands, and smiles a little when she feels him stroking her skin with his thumb. “Can I ask when you knew?”

“A while.” He’s quiet, watching their hands too. Red eyes flicker to meet hers, and he shrugs. “It’s always been you.” 

Her heart soars. She comes in closer, and as she tilts her head up to look at him, Bakugou leans down to press his forehead to hers. 

“I think I could fall in love with you,” she admits softly, her heartbeat pounding like drums in her ears. I think I’m already halfway there.

The words hang there, suspended in the space between them, and then he breathes in and smiles. 

“Way ahead of you, Cheeks,” he murmurs. “Hurry up, will you?” 

Something in her sings as he tugs her closer, and the touch of his lips to hers feels like coming home. 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

June: Under your breath while the whole house sleeps, just before you have to leave for the day. More for yourself than for them.

When Ochako asks if he wants to tell people, Katsuki is torn. On one hand, he wants people to know – he wants to shout to the entire world that Uraraka Ochako is his, that she chose him in the end.

And yet, on the other, he’s selfish. He wants to keep her to himself for as long as he can, to learn everything about her on his own time, and when he makes his choice, Ochako agrees. 

Keeping it a secret is laughably easy. They do everything like they did before – they attend class, hang out with their respective friend groups, and occasionally meet up to spar after school. To their classmates and the rest of the world, nothing has changed. 

Behind closed doors, it’s a different story. 

He wakes to all-encompassing warmth, hair tickling his nose and a pliant body tucked tight to his chest. The curve of Ochako’s back under his hand is soft, and when he tightens his hold on her, she snuffles a little into her pillow before settling back into sleep. 

The light filtering through Uraraka’s cheap curtains is faint. He knows from experience that it’s probably around five in the morning, too early for any of his classmates or teachers to be awake. It’s the safest time for him to steal out of Ochako’s room and get back to the boy’s side of the dorms, but it’s harder and harder to leave each time he wakes up with his girlfriend gathered in his arms. 

His girlfriend. The thought sends a dopey, stupid smile stretching over his face. It’s been close to two months since that day on the roof after the Sports Festival, but part of him still can’t believe it. Uraraka Ochako is his girlfriend.  

Katsuki is pretty sure he’s the luckiest bastard alive.

He withdraws from her slowly, painstakingly peeling his body from hers. She whines a little at the loss of warmth, and he can’t help but melt a little when she gravitates towards the divot he left in the mattress, burrowing into the spot where his head lay on her pillow.

His clothes are in a crumpled pile by the foot of the bed, and he tugs on his pants carelessly, shoving his shirt over his messy hair. When he’s done, he rearranges the blankets around Ochako’s sleeping form, tucking them up to her chin. Her forehead peeks out from under her messy hair, and Katsuki brushes his lips against the little patch of skin, cupping the curve of her face as he does.

Here, staring down at his slumbering girlfriend, he’s struck by the familiar, sudden wave of affection that tempts him to stay.

“I love you,” he breathes, almost mouthing the words as he strokes her cheek gently. He watches as she nuzzles into his touch, smiling in her sleep, and tiptoes out of her room before he’s late for his morning run.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

August: With a soft sigh. Past exhaustion and frustration and despair, like it’s the only good thing left. Sometimes it is.

Neither she nor Katsuki are strangers to nightmares. They’re a given, at this point – most heroes suffer from them in one capacity or another, but it doesn’t make things any easier to deal with.

In some ways, Ochako is lucky – she’s used to working through the nightmares alone, and can still function around them. She doesn’t have to go to Katsuki for comfort unless it’s a particularly vivid dream, but the same couldn’t be said for her boyfriend.

Ochako wakes up to the low sound of her phone chiming. Her head is spinning from being woken up in the middle of a sleep cycle, but as she blearily squints in the darkness, she recognizes the ringtone as the one she set for Bakugou.

She picks up just before the call drops. “Hello?”

“Cheeks?” The whispered, raspy sound of Bakugou’s voice cracks in her ear, and she shakes off the last vestiges of sleep, concern shooting through her.

“Katuski? Are you okay?”

“M’outside,” he mumbles, and Ochako throws herself out of bed and nearly trips over the low tea table in her haste to get to the door. She throws it open, and Katsuki is leaning against her door frame. He’s shaking, bundled in a hoodie she recognizes as one he wears when the nightmares are especially bad. Worriedly, she cups a hand around his elbow and pulls him into her room.

She steers him to her bed, careful to avoid the table this time, and sits Katsuki on the edge. She gently pries his phone from his hand, ending the call and placing both of their phones on her desk, before she tugs at the hem of his hoodie.

With a slow, steady murmur of nonsensical words, she coaxes him out of his hoodie and sweats and shoes. Katsuki keeps his hands on her, seeking bare skin as she works, until he’s left only in his boxers. He makes a low, wounded sound when she briefly steps away to place his clothes on her desk chair, but he sighs as she returns into his arms, guiding him below her comforter. Ochako quickly sheds the large, oversized shirt she usually wears to sleep, leaving her in just her panties, and lets the rough, calloused hand on her thigh drag her into bed.

She lies on her back, sighing as her boyfriend settles his cheek against her left breast, ear pressed directly above her heart. He wraps his arms around her waist, miles of warm skin pressed against her body, and she carefully scratches across his scalp while he tries to lose himself in the sound of her heartbeat.

Fighting the lull of sleep, her other hand cradles his arm, using her thumb to rub back and forth soothingly. The trembling gradually stops, Katsuki’s panicked breathing evening out, and she hears a rough, heavy exhale before he rubs at her sternum with his nose.

“…Thanks.” He presses his mouth against the skin of her chest in a chaste kiss.

“Anytime.” Smoothing the spiky bangs away from his forehead, she leans forward to place a kiss of her own to his hairline. “You okay?”

She feels Katsuki swallow thickly, his weight falling on her more heavily. “Not really.” It’s the honest answer, and had it been anyone else asking, Ochako knows he would’ve lied.  “But I will be.”

She hums, eyelids slowly getting heavier as the hand carding through his spiky hair moves slower and slower. Faintly, as she’s just on the edge of consciousness, she feels the blonde shift above her.

“I love you.” Ochako tries to keep her eyes open, but she can’t quite fight it any longer. “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Love y’too,” she slurs, and the last thing she hears is a quiet huff of amusement as she drifts off, warm and safe.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

October: Wrapped up in a question. How’s your day been, have you eaten, you know you can tell me anything, right? You know you can tell them anything. Right?

One day, after class, All Might gathers everyone to make an announcement: two applicants have finally been chosen for the exclusive one-year work study in America. The program starts right after graduation, set up with All Might’s old hero agency, and Katsuki grins in anticipation.

The work study is something that he’s been working towards since coming into U.A. He had submitted the application at the end of second year, along with most of their class, but he figures that he has it in the bag. There are two spots, and while Deku is a given, Katsuki is the only one who can keep up with him when they’re really going all out.

He never thinks, in a million years, that Ochako would be the one to get it instead.

When he doesn’t hear his name, the feeling that falls over him is impossible to describe. On one hand, he’s so incredibly proud – of course Ochako deserves something like this. The program is notoriously competitive, notoriously selective, and for Ochako to be chosen means that they see the potential for her to be an international hero.

On the other hand, he’s so angry and hurt and frustrated, because that should’ve been him. He should’ve been the one to get the work-study, because now he’s getting left behind not just by Deku, but by Ochako too.

He pointedly avoids meeting her gaze, and when she tries to approach him after class, the mess of his feelings makes him blow up.

“Bakugou-kun?” He stiffens at the sound of her voice, but otherwise ignores her as he stomps towards the locker rooms. “Bakugou-kun, wait – ”

A hand lands on his forearm, and without thinking, he whirls around and yanks himself out of Ochako’s grasp. She looks stunned at his violent reaction, but he’s still reeling from All Might’s announcement in a way that makes all his filters disappear.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he hisses venomously, and hurt blooms across those wide brown eyes. “I don’t want your fucking pity!”

Katsuki regrets it the moment he says it, but pride is what makes him turn his back on Ochako and keep walking. He rips his hero costume off and showers in record time, tossing on his clothes and sprinting back to the dorms to lock himself in his room.  

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Throwing himself on his bed, he buries his face in his pillow and lets himself go. All the bottled emotions explode out, and he’s sobbing and swearing and screaming for God knows how long until he physically can’t do anything but lie there, curled up into his pillow and hurting.

He’s so exhausted and so out of it that he doesn’t notice the door to his balcony sliding open. Still, when he feels the mattress shifting beneath him, he knows that she’s there.

Shame and guilt suddenly join the complex mess of feelings in his head, and part of him is frozen in fear. Why is she here? Is she here to pity him, like he told her not to? Is she here to yell at him for being an asshole?

Worse yet – is she here to tell him that she wants to end things?

Every nerve in his body is on alert, his brain still a jumbled muddle, and he physically can’t bring himself to move as the seconds tick by, agonizingly slow. The sound of his heartbeat thunders in his ears, and he can feel his lungs constrict as he waits for Ochako to speak.

Something desperate in him begs, please don’t go.

A hand settles onto his shoulder. The touch makes him flinch, his shoulders hunching on instinct, but the mattress moves momentarily before a familiar body molds itself to his back.

Ochako maneuvers herself into a big spoon position, curling her legs behind his and wiggling her arms around him so that she can hug him around the waist. He swallows as he feels her gently press a kiss between his shoulders. It’s patient and understanding and everything he feels like he doesn’t deserve.

 “… Sorry.” He swallows thickly, wincing at the rawness of his throat. The word is muffled, spoken into his pillow instead of towards the person behind him, but he feels Ochako bury her face into his shirt.

“Me too.” He closes his eyes at that, his bitterness returning in full force. She tightens her hold on him, as if sensing his mood. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

Katsuki huffs, an acknowledgement but not an answer. Instead, he lets one hand fall to rest on the arms folded across his stomach, finding her hand and sliding his palm against hers.

They lay like that in silence. A few tears escape, leftover from the emotional torrent he’d released earlier, but all he feels now is emptiness.

“I declined the work-study.” His eyes snap open, and he sits up abruptly. The action startles Ochako, who doesn’t manage to let go of him in time, and she lands half-sprawled below him, arms still linked around his body.

“What the hell, Ochako,” he croaks, his voice still hoarse, and he glares down at her. “Why would you – ”

“I can barely afford to feed myself, Katsuki – how in the world am I going to find the money to spend a year in America?” She looks at him gently, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Besides – I applied because the others did. I never really wanted to go in the first place. Not like you.”

Old insecurities crawl out of the dark corners of his mind. “I don’t need your pity, Cheeks,” he says darkly, and she rolls her eyes.

“For God’s sake, it’s not pity,” she says exasperatedly, and folds her arms across her chest. Her expression softens. “I know how much you wanted this. How much you still want it.”

“They picked you, Ochako. Not me.” Saying it out loud stings, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t proud of her. “Not that they shouldn’t have. You deserve it.”  

“So do you, Katsuki.” She sits up, tucking her legs underneath her as she squares her shoulders, staring him directly in the eyes. “You know why I want to be a hero. Stuff like this – it’s not important to me, not like it is for you. You’re the first one on the waiting list – if I didn’t apply, it would’ve been you who got it.”

He scowls. “Why the fuck did you apply if you weren’t gonna do it?”

“Deku convinced me,” Ochako admits, looking apologetic. “I didn’t really expect anything; I knew I wasn’t going to be able to afford it regardless.”

And fuck, hearing her say that makes him feel even shittier. “… It’s whatever, Cheeks,” he says, trying to play things off. “Doesn’t really matter.”

“Yeah, that’s bullshit.” The flat look she gives him is pointed. “You don’t get angry like this unless it’s something you really care about.”

“I didn’t… ugh, fuck.” He closes his eyes and scrubs a free hand over his face, following the line of his jaw until his palm sits at the nape of his neck. “I got pissed because I felt like I was gettin’ left behind again. Not just by the shitty nerd, but...”

“… by me, too,” she says, realization falling over her, and he feels like an asshole for even thinking it, let alone admitting it out loud. “I thought we were both in the same boat? The one where we’re trying not to compare ourselves to other people anymore?”

“Shit, I know that, I just…” He groans, rubbing his neck roughly. “I just… I’ve spent so fuckin’ long chasin’ after them. Fucking years, Cheeks. I can’t just… turn that off.”   

“I know.” And she does – maybe not to the same extent, but she does know, better than anyone else, exactly what he’s feeling. She felt it too, not long ago. “But you’re not Deku, Katsuki; you aren’t All Might either. Sometimes, I feel like you forget that.”

“S’not that I forget.” He lets his hands fall limp in his lap, looking down at them hollowly. “… They’re just… better. Better people, better heroes… trying to crawl out of their damn shadows feels like I’m fighting fuckin’ smoke.”

“Well, nothing worth doing is going to be easy,” she says, and part of him wants to laugh at the sheer fucking audacity of this girl, taking his words and throwing them right back at him. She grins a little, seeing the spark of amusement in his eyes. “You know that as well as I do.”

“You’re a goddamn comedian,” he snorts, and he can’t help but smile.

“The very best,” she agrees as she grabs his free hand, bringing it up to her lips. “So you’ll go, right?”

He studies her, trying to look for a single smidgeon of resentment, and can’t find anything other than genuine sincerity. “… yeah,” he sighs. “I’ll go.”

Ochako nods firmly. “Good.”

And that’s the end of it.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

December: Instead of “thank you” or “see you soon” or “drive safe.” Because no matter what you say it’ll mean the same thing.

They’re able to keep things quiet for seven months. Living with eighteen other teenagers means almost no privacy, and it’s a goddamn miracle that nobody has found out yet. Katsuki is pretty sure Frogface has an idea – he’s caught her watching the two of them recently, a contemplative look on her face, but otherwise, there isn’t a peep.

When it does come out, it’s partially Ochako's fault, but mostly Katsuki’s. Sparring together always gets him hot and bothered, and while she might have been tempting fate a little by wearing just a sports bra while they’re grappling, he’s entirely to blame for how he slams her into the mats and starts kissing her in the middle of the crowded gym.

Katsuki is not happy to find that there’s a class-wide bet going on about them. He’s even less happy to find that Deku is the one who fucking wins the pot, but when people find out that they’ve been dating since May, Ochako starts hiding on the roof to avoid any more invasive questions about Katsuki’s dick.

By the time winter break rolls around, the fervor around their relationship has died down. There’s still some teasing, especially from people like Kirishima and Mina, but everyone’s focus is redirected as the winter internships offers are finally handed out.

For some, the decision is easy. She knows that Katsuki doesn’t even hesitate when he gets the offer to intern with Endeavor again, alongside Shouto. Ochako, on the other hand, is torn. Her original plan was to go with Ryuko for the third year in a row, but she knows that she’s gotten a little too comfortable there. It’s not challenging anymore, and as much as she loves working with the dragon hero, she knows that she needs to gain more experience somewhere else.

She wants to take Miruko’s offer. The woman is on a case in Sapporo, and she’s looking for a seasoned intern experienced in both rescue and combat to act as her support. It’s an amazing opportunity, especially when Ochako considers the fact that the rabbit hero is notorious for preferring to work alone – apparently the Sports Festival didn’t harm her reputation as much as she’d thought it would.

There’s only one problem.

She and Katsuki had been planning to spend a few days celebrating her birthday before heading out to their respective internships. Miruko’s offer, if Ochako accepts it, lasts the entire two-week winter break.

Not only would she not be able to visit home, she’d also have to cancel her plans with Katsuki.

When she tells him about the offer, something in her breaks a little at the excited, proud grin that spreads across his face. “You’re shitting me. Miruko? For real? That’s fuckin’ amazing, Cheeks.”

“… Yeah.” Ochako smiles back weakly.

He frowns. “Oi, what’s with that face? You aren’t interested or something?”

“It’s not that.” At his puzzled look, she says softly, “The internship lasts the whole break. It’s in Sapporo.”

She already checked online. It takes five hours to get from Sapporo to Tokyo; a one-way ticket costs around thirty thousand yen. There is no way she can afford to visit Katsuki, let alone her parents all the way down in Mie. And even if he could come to her, there is no way to guarantee that she’ll have the time.

“… oh.” She watches as he exhales slowly, the excitement fading in his eyes and replaced by disappointment. “Oh.”

Ochako bites her lip, eyes flickering towards the floor. “I – I don’t have to take the offer, Ryuko still has openings…”

It’s not that she doesn’t want to go. She does – desperately, actually, because it’s Miruko. Number five hero, badass bitch Miruko, who Ochako secretly idolizes for being strong and powerful and uncompromising in a culture where being those things as a woman can be career-ending more than career-making. It’s an opportunity she never dared to dream of – and now it’s being handed to her on a silver platter.

Katsuki knows this. He knows that Ochako wants to say yes, and he knows that for all that she’s offering to stay, she wants him to tell her to go.

And he does.

“Don’t be a dumbass,” he scowls, eyes narrowing. “Miruko asked you for a reason; you’re fucking going.” 

She knows that he won’t let her turn it down – Katsuki would never ask her to sacrifice her career for him – but hearing it still helps settle the guilt that had been festering since she first got the offer. He looks a little dejected still, and so Ochako steps forward until her face is pressed into his chest, arms coming up to wrap around his waist in a hug. “Katsuki, I –”

“I know.” Strong arms band across her back to tuck her more securely against his chest, and one hand cradles the back of her neck. “Just means we gotta make up for your birthday and New Years when you get back.”

“Deal.” She inhales, taking in the smell of smoke and sugar that never fails to make her feel safe and secure. It’s only two weeks, but she already knows that she’ll miss him terribly.

A hand sweeps across her back, settling on her neck. The warmth of his palm is soothing against the tight muscles, and she relaxes into him. “M’proud of you, Cheeks. You’re gonna fucking crush it.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” It’s a lie, but Katsuki doesn’t call her out on it. Instead, he presses his mouth to the crown of her head.

“I love you,” he murmurs, quietly. Come back to me. 

She pulls back, cradles his face between her palms, kisses him fervently in answer. I will.  

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

January: Straightforward. Soft and heavy, like morning before the coffee’s started brewing. Like that’s all there is to say.

He gets the call two days before they’re supposed to get back to the dorms.

“There was an avalanche in Sapporo,” Frogface’s monotone voice sounds tinny over the phone, and Katsuki’s heart drops to his toes. “Ochako – she’s in the hospital.”

The story is broadcast over every news channel, trending on every social media site. The case in Sapporo was an investigation, following rumors about a sex-trafficking ring targeting young girls. Miruko and Uravity had tracked the ring leaders to an abandoned town, where they’d captured the offending criminals with little trouble. The police were on the way, and the heroes had been comforting the scared girls, but nobody knew that one of the criminals had a remote-detonation quirk until it was too late.

The dynamite that exploded wasn’t meant to destroy the town – it was meant to bury it.

The twenty girls and all the criminals make it out alive and unscathed– so do all twelve thousand residents of the neighboring town. According to the reports, Uravity had created an entirely new gravitational field to slow the avalanche, with her own body as the anchorpoint, and had stalled long enough for everyone to evacuate the area. When she finally passed out, Miruko darted in to drag her intern to safety, but they had both ended up getting caught in the crush of snow.

The rescue team, who’d been on standby, found them both quickly, but Uravity’s overuse of her quirk, combined with her injuries, meant that she was rushed immediately to Musutafu, where Recovery Girl kept her alive long enough to get into surgery.

Katsuki skips class to go to the hospital, leg bouncing and his heart breaking as every agonizing minute passes. Mid-way through the day, Aizawa comes to try and bring him back to U.A., accompanied by Midnight. He almost fights both teachers in the middle of the waiting room, until his parents come and formally withdraw him for the day so he can stay.

When he’s finally allowed to see her, she’s in a coma. She looks small, tucked below scratchy white sheets and surrounded by machines he can’t name. There’s a neck brace supporting her head, the breathing tube snaking from her mouth and nose, and all he can do is hold her hand and squeeze, praying for her to wake up.

He comes every day after classes. He sits in the plastic chair by her bedside and talks about his internship, the things they did in class, and the stupid antics their classmates got up to in the dorms.

Every day, before he leaves, Katsuki kisses her and says that he misses her. That he can’t wait for her to wake up.

At one point, Miruko comes by to visit, solemn-faced – she’s in an electric wheelchair, missing her prosthetic limbs, and lugging an IV drip behind her. Part of Katsuki wants to blame her for it all, for giving the offer to Ochako in the first place, but he recognizes the guilt hidden behind the rabbit hero’s stoic façade.  

“I told her not to overdo it.” The woman’s voice is low and throaty, weariness obvious even as she speaks. Katsuki spares a glance at the woman, who’s staring at Ochako’s still body in the bed. “Told her that the mountain was gonna come down one way or another. She didn’t fuckin’ listen – said she could keep going. That she had to.”

He’s seen the footage – it’s not something that he’ll ever forget. A towering wall of snow and ice and rock, a cresting wave over a ramshackle ruin, with a tiny pink form standing in front of the creeping, looming mass. He knows that Ochako’s quirk is more than just zero gravity, but seeing it in action, she looks like a goddess out of legend. Nobody who sees that video will ever call her weak again.

“Sounds like her,” he grunts, and neither of them say anything more.

Days later, he hears the rumor while waiting for shitty vending machine coffee and as he buys flowers at the flower shop on the hospital grounds. Apparently, Miruko called in a favor from one of the top healing quirk specialists to come and help Ochako.

He lugs an entire bushel of organic rainbow carrots to the woman’s hospital room as thanks, and scowls when Miruko points out that he should’ve sent them in an edible arrangement.

Three weeks after the accident, the neck brace and tubes are gone, the life support equipment removed, and all that’s left is to wait for Ochako to wake up. Katsuki is in the middle of complaining about some stupid training exercise he doesn’t really care about when the hand he’s holding squeezes.

“… Mm? Kat… ?” Ochako’s voice is low and gravelly, scratchy from disuse, and her heavy-lidded gaze settles on him tiredly. He stands abruptly, the chair clattering to the floor as the last remnants of fear and worry are replaced by sheer relief.

The hug he gives Ochako is careful and featherlight, but a strong hand pulls him tighter into her chest until he’s almost crushing her in his arms. Katsuki knows that he should be calling for a doctor, but he can’t help but take the moment to keep her for himself, just a little while longer.  

“Shit, Cheeks,” he breathes, basking in the familiar weight of Ochako’s head tucked into the curve between his shoulder and neck. “I was so fuckin’ worried.”

“M’okay.” Her nose feels cold against his pulse. “Sorry,” she says, slurring a little.

“Don’t be.” She had saved those girls, and she was the reason that over ten thousand people were still alive. There was nothing to be sorry about. “You’re okay now, s’all that matters.”

She hums, the warmth of her breath lingering over his skin. “Love you,” she whispers, hands twisting in the fabric of his shirt.

Katsuki exhales in a soft, slow sigh, and presses a kiss into her hair. “Love you too.”

#kacchako #kacchako week 2020 #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bakuraka #by nebbia #it was always you #fanfiction

[dallanebbia]

meliora

fandom: bnha pairing: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 6.8k warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, suggestive content synopsis: bakugou is a walking trouble magnet, aizawa tries to keep him alive, and uraraka just wants to do her job – or, where it takes a while for bakugou to warm up to the idea of a partner notes: written for day 6 of kacchako week 2020, with the prompt ‘spy/secret agent au.’ there is a very loose plot but it’s mostly just a peek into the adventures of walking disaster bakugou and his level-headed partner uraraka. headers for each part indicate [mission number _ local military time _ location] ao3: [link]

meliora (n.) - Latin, becoming better, improving

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

[0000 _ 1734 _ Undisclosed]

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Aizawa sighs, rolling his eyes. “You act like you have any say in this, problem child.”

“Like hell I don’t.” Bakugou scowls, ignoring the indignant glare boring into the side of his head. “I’m not gonna waste my time babysitting some shitty extra, especially not one that looks like some fuckin’ cat lady.”

Anger flares behind big brown eyes, but the woman in front of him just purses her lips. She’s dressed like a kindergarten teacher or a librarian, in an atrocious mustard cardigan with a shapeless sack of a dress underneath. With those chubby cheeks, she looks about as threatening as a guinea pig.

It matches what little he’s gleaned about her, just from his quick once-over. She’s probably the prudish type, a consummate stickler for the rules, and altogether too soft to be an agent – let alone partner to someone with his experience.

“Actually, it’s the other way around,” Aizawa drawls. “She’s the one babysitting you.” 

Bakugou stills, taking a second to process that. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“You have some of the lowest scores in stealth training amongst the entire agency.” That makes him scowl, the back of his neck turning hot. “The director thought you could benefit from a little… pragmatism, in the form of a partner.”  

“Hah?” Bakugou bristles, and from the corner of his eye, he can see the woman hide a tiny laugh. “You implying I can’t do undercover shit?”

“You’re the walking equivalent of a grenade,” is the flat response. The dark-haired man pins Bakugou with a narrow-eyed stare, one that has his shoulders hunching a little. “You’re a good agent, Bakugou, but sooner or later your luck is going to run out. You need someone to watch your back.”

“What, and this bitch is gonna do that?” The blonde scoffs. “Fuck no; get me Shitty Hair, or that stupid nerd Deku - least they can carry their weight.”

That gains him a reaction from the woman, but he returns her sharp scowl with a sneer of his own. Aizawa just raises an unimpressed eyebrow, and says firmly, “Again – you don’t have a choice.”

Bakugou recognizes the hint of sterness in the older man’s tone, the admonishment lingering in every word, and grits his teeth. He knows a lost cause when he sees one. 

“Tch, we’ll see how long she lasts,” he seethes, and stalks towards the door. He makes a point to push past the round-faced extra, knocking into her roughly with his shoulder, but all he gets is a slight shift of her foot and another pointed look. He yanks the door open roughly, and is halfway down the corridor when he hears a voice calling out to him, clear and bright.

“I look forward to working with you, Bakugou!” she says, all sweet and polite and shit, and he flips her off from over his shoulder, not bothering to look back.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ─── 

 [0001 _ 1715 _ Tokyo]

They agree to meet up two blocks away from the nightclub owned by their informant, and he almost wants to facepalm when she hurries down the block towards him.

“Sorry!” she pants, bending over to catch her breath. “My taxi got stuck in traffic, so I ran the last few blocks and –”

He tunes her out, scanning her outfit with contempt. She’s in some flouncy pink dress and white strappy sandals, looking more like someone going picnicking rather than clubbing, and he’s already so done with this bullshit.

“God, fuck this,” he snarls, turning on his heel and stalking towards the club.

“H-hey! Wait for me –!” He hears the flat of her sandals against the pavement, but doesn’t bother to even look at her when she catches up, trying to match his longer strides. “Bakugou-kun —”

“If you can’t keep up, go the fuck home, Round Face,” he spits out, ignoring her outraged squeak at her new nickname. “This bastard is already a pain in my fuckin’ ass to deal with, and I don’t need some dumb extra dragging me down.”

She mumbles something under her breath, probably complaining to Aizawa via the comm-link disguised as her earrings. Bakugou just rolls his eyes; she’s just one of the many brain-dead fuckwads the academy spits out, soft and stupid and useless. Round Face will inevitably fuck up – they always do – and he’ll be back to working solo in no time.

Thankfully, she keeps quiet as they skirt around the back of the club coming up to a side entrance. Bakugou bangs his fist on the painted metal door, giving only a low grunt in greeting to the bouncer who ushers them inside.

He can't help but scoff when he sees the way the other man’s eyes widen at the sight of his partner. Dressed the way she is, the idiot is just asking for it, and Bakugou is just enough of an asshole to let her deal with any wandering hands on her own. 

He leads the way to the bastard’s office – as always, there’s a thick layer of smoke in the air, obscuring the gaudy décor with a hazy cloud. Round Face scrunches her nose as she follows after him, slipping a smile onto her face.

“Bakugou.” Behind the huge desk in the room, Goro is smoking some thick-ass cigar, trying to pull off some kind of Western mafia look that just makes him seem all the more idiotic. Beady little eyes slide over to Round Face in disinterest, before doing a double take. “Oh? You’ve brought a friend with you?”

Bakugou opens his mouth to vehemently deny any association with the woman next to him, but he’s cut off by Round Face stepping forward.

“Yoshino,” she simpers, batting her eyelashes and throwing her shoulders back in a way that pushes her tits out, straining against her dress. His skin crawls as Goro’s eyes drop to her chest with a leer, but all Round Face does is smile prettily. “Just making sure Bakugou-kun doesn’t ruffle any feathers; I know how difficult he can be.”

“O-oh, he’s no problem at all, ma’am.” The bastard actually stutters when Round Face tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and looks like he’s about to cream himself right then and there.

Ma’am? Bakugou blinks, eyes darting between the two of them in confusion and slowly building rage. What the actual fuck?

“I just wanted to come and thank you for being so cooperative with us for all these months,” she says sweetly, as if she’s been the one dragging her ass to this shitty club every week, for the past fucking year. “I know it isn’t much, but I hope you know that we – that I really appreciate all that you do.”

Goro starts tripping over his words, red-faced as he starts sputtering out details that Bakugou instinctively commits to memory. When the bastard starts pawing through his drawers, Round Face takes the opportunity to glance over her shoulder with a pointed, tiny smirk.

Every expletive on the tip of his tongue is swallowed back when Bakugou realizes what she’s doing; they all come back in full force when Goro pulls out a thick envelope of photographs. Bakugou recognizes the information - he's been trying to wheedle them from the bastard for weeks now - and all he can do is grit his teeth as Goro just hands the package over to Round Face, grinning like a loon.

For once, the meetup is short and relatively painless – discounting the gag-worthy sight of the bastard escorting his new partner to the back door on his arm, blushing like some kind of schoolgirl. When the door closes behind them with a sharp snap, she shudders with a grimace.

“God, he’s vile,” she mutters. Bakugou makes a vague sound of agreement, steering them out of the alley and back to their meeting point, before rounding on her with a scowl.

“What the fuck was that?”

She just raises an eyebrow at him, something satisfied lurking behind her eyes. “Aizawa mentioned that Goro wasn’t cooperating with you, so he asked me to try something different.”

Bakugou wrinkles his nose. “So you decided to push your tits into that fuckwad’s face?”

“What? I didn’t push my – ” Her face turns pink as her voice lowers to a furious whisper. “ – my tits, anywhere! This dress doesn’t even show any cleavage!”

“Right,” he scoffs, ripping open the envelope and thumbing through the photos inside. “Next you’ll be tellin’ me you picked that shitty outfit on purpose.”

“Well, of course I did.” He stops, looking up at her. “Didn’t you read the file?”

“What file?”

“Goro’s file? The one where it clearly says he has a fetish for cute, innocent girls?” He thinks back, vaguely remembering something like that when he’d skimmed the bastard’s dossier months ago. It obviously didn’t apply to him, so he’d forgotten about it.

“Huh.” He eyes her speculatively for a moment, before stuffing the envelope into his suit jacket. “Guess you’re not entirely useless, Round Face.”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

[0008 _ 0036 _ Quebec]

“I have a clear shot.” Round Face’s voice crackles in his ear, all static. Bakugou has to hide his wince behind his champagne flute, hand tightening on the glass.

“Yeah, fuck no.” With the amount of schmoozing he’s had to do, he’s not in a charitable mood, especially with the way his shoes are pinching his toes. He’s itching for a little action – it’d be the only way to make all this bullshit even remotely redeemable. “I’m the one who’s gonna kill him.”

“He’s literally right by the window.” The frustrated note in Round Face’s voice is obvious, even through the comm-link. “It’s the perfect set up – ”

“I don’t fuckin’ care, he’s mine.”  

There’s a low murmur, something that sounds like a French curse, before she speaks again. “I have been sitting here freezing my ass off for the past two hours,” she hisses. “It’s the middle of the winter, in Canada. It’s snowing. Can I please take the shot?”

Bakugou just smirks to himself. Times like this almost make the hassle of having a partner worthwhile, if only to make Round Face's life as miserable as fucking possible. 

“Not. Fucking. Happening,” he enunciates, reveling in the faint sound of her teeth chattering. Just for good measure, he switches his empty flute for a new one, savoring the taste of the expensive champagne on his tongue.

“Right,” she mutters flatly. “Well, sorry in advance then.”

Before he can ask what the hell that’s supposed to mean, he hears a muffled crackle. His blood starts to rush in his ears as he realizes what she’s done, screams starting to echo in the air. “You stupid bitch – ”

His partner doesn’t even bother letting him finish. “I'm glad that I finally graduated from useless extra to stupid bitch,” she snarks. He can hear her breath pick up as she starts making her way off of the rooftop. “ 'Least I’m not an asshole with an over-inflated ego.”

He sees red. “You’re fucking dead,” he hisses, and Round Face just snorts in reply. His communicator clicks, signaling that she’s turned the link off from her end, and he grits his teeth in a furious grimace.

As he makes his way out of the gala, he takes a peek into the main ballroom. The target is laid flat on the floor, a bloom of red centered above his heart with eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Their client – the man’s wife – is putting on an award-worthy act, wailing and crying hysterically, but his focus is on the window.

There’s a clean hole in the glass, cracks spider-webbing out from the tiny opening. The kill is as close to textbook as it gets, even with the thickly falling snow and the blustering winter winds, and he huffs.

“Not bad,” he mutters, reluctantly impressed. As he continues on his way, he can feel his respect for her begrudgingly grow a few notches, the faintest spark of curiosity settling in the back of his mind.   

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ─── 

[0017 _ 1542 _ St. Petersburg]

The echo of the shot rings through the room, and it takes Bakugou about 0.8 seconds to realize that he probably should have used the gun with the silencer.

“Fuck.”

As the man slumps behind the deli counter, Round Face whirls on him with wild eyes. “You –!”

“Bratishka?! ” A low voice calls, and both of them wince as a trio of men burst into the room, freezing in horror at the scene.

Within a second, Bakugou grabs Round Face and barrels out of the butcher shop. In the following two seconds, shots ring out behind them, and suddenly they’re running.

“Let go of me – !”

“Just run!” Bakugou yells, slowing his stride so she can keep pace with him. He doesn’t let go, tugging her along as he darts between confused shoppers and ducks into the shadows of a narrowed street.

There’s a roar of unintelligible Russian accompanied by thundering footsteps, coming closer and closer. It takes a moment to find a hidden alcove, tucked behind an entryway, but he pushes Round Face into the dark space with a pounding pulse and the punch-drunk feeling of adrenaline rushing through his blood.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there, waiting in tense silence. He’s pressing himself flat against Round Face, trying to flatten their bodies against the wall, and both of them pant as they listen for the sounds of footsteps.

Above the mechanical hum of a boiler and the muted sounds of the city, the shouts steadily get fainter and fainter. Bakugou exhales slowly, tension draining from him, and then stiffens again as he realizes that their faces are only a few centimeters apart.

They’re standing literally chest to chest, and he’s so close that he can see the flecks of gold and amber in her eyes – he can see the way her lips part ever so slightly as her breath hitches. Staring at her like this, Bakugou feels inexplicably caught in the moment – his brain careening off-course and drifting away, rudderless.

He only has a split second to prepare himself, as Round Face’s wide brown eyes suddenly narrow into slits.

“You idiot!”

The shove to his chest is surprisingly, deceptively strong, pushing him back out into the alleyway. Round Face follows quickly after him, glaring, and he can’t help but think that she looks surprisingly fierce with a scowl on her face.

“The fuck did you just call me?” he snarls, and he’s a little disgruntled to find that she doesn’t even react to his threatening tone.

It took her ballsy shot during that mission in Canada – she gave Aizawa some ‘better to beg forgiveness than ask permission’ bullshit that the man eats up – to unearth the spine of steel hidden below that goody-two shoes act. He doesn’t know whether to be impressed or annoyed by the fact that she’s willing to mouth off to him now.

“You heard what I said,” she pants angrily. “You’re an idiot. A hot-headed, utterly infuriating idiot! You just shot our only lead in this stupid case, in the middle of his own goddamn store!”

Putting it like that makes it sound worse than it really is, and Bakugou scowls. “Did you, or did you not see the goddamn machine gun he had pointed at us?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “He wasn’t going to shoot us – ”

“Like hell he wasn’t.” He gives her a flat look. “The safety was disengaged. I ain’t dying because of some trigger-happy Russian mobster.”

Round Face falters a little at that, but insists, “You don’t know for sure! And now we won’t know for sure if the intel from Feodor was actually trustworthy!”

“And I already fucking told you, that asshat is a goddamn liar but there’s no way he can fake these kinds of documents,” he said exasperatedly. “You were the one who insisted on following up on a wild goose chase.”

“Well, we’ll never know now, will we?” Round Face snarks back, her chin jutting out stubbornly. “Agency protocol dictates that we are required to investigate – ”

“ – potential leads, assuming a low risk assessment and the probability of additional intel,” he finishes flatly, rolling his eyes. “Don’t quote that garbage to me and use your fuckin’ head, Round Face. Feodor was playin’ us – you seriously think some low-level grunt has any worthwhile information on a Bratva captain?”  

There’s a mulish look on her face, one that he’s familiar with by now. Round Face hates being proved wrong just as much as he does, and just purses her lips as she concedes his point with a quiet grumble.

“Whatever.” The pout on her face makes her look like an angry, temperamental puppy, and for some reason, he can’t help but find it kind of cute.

Only a little.  

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ─── 

[0024 _ 2229 _ Sydney]

“He’s here,” Round Face murmurs, hiding her mouth behind a manicured hand. Brown eyes cut to his, before darting over his shoulder. “Seven o’clock. Right behind you.” 

He grunts, snaking an arm around her waist until he has a hand placed at the small of her back, tugging her close. She leans into his chest, sighing softly, and from a bystander’s perspective, they probably look like a pair of long-time lovers, whispering in each other’s ears. 

“How many guards?” 

“Three; two men, one woman,” Round Face says after a beat, looking up at him and letting out a tinkling laugh. Bakugou glances behind him, seeing their target a few meters away, and leans down to tuck his face into her neck. “They’re blocking the door though.” 

He rolls his eyes. “So, we go through the window.” 

He feels more than hears how Round Face sighs at that. “Do we really have to be so dramatic about it?” 

“S’not dramatic if you plan for it,” he grumbles back. “And it means we get out of here faster, so quit complaining.” 

“Didn’t you just get a lecture from Aizawa about minimizing property damage?” 

“Tch, you should know me by now.” He feels her fingers slipping into his suit jacket, palming the pistol tucked into his shoulder holster. “Don’t fuck it up, Round Face.” 

“Please. You should know me by now,” she parrots back smartly. He jerks at the quick pinch at his hip, shooting her a glare.

Unfortunately, after some twenty-odd missions, Bakugou does know her. It’s why he doesn’t even bother watching as she steps smoothly to his right, aims the gun, and shoots their target point blank in the back. Instead, he’s grabbing a chair that’s way heavier than he thought it’d be, and hurling it at one of the old, factory-sash windows in front of them. 

The sound of glass shattering covers the sound of the gunshot, and the confused screams give them just enough time to make their escape. Round Face grabs him by the hand, and they take a few loping steps before leaping out of the broken window into a conveniently planted garbage truck. There’s more screaming now, interspersed with shouts, and they both roll out of the garbage bed quickly before darting down the dark street towards the docks. 

He shoves his way through people gathered on the sidewalks, feet pounding on the pavement. Round Face is running barefoot, heels abandoned somewhere behind them, and he’s annoyed at the fact that she keeps up with him easily. 

“We’ve got company!” A glance over his shoulder reveals two of their target’s guards, sprinting down the street towards them, guns in hand. 

“Run faster, Round Face!” he bellows back, his eyes running over the sea of speedboats in the distance. He picks up his pace, adrenaline pumping through his veins as concrete shifts to wood planks beneath his feet. 

He trips over a stray mooring line as he jumps into a speedboat, nearly toppling into the water, but Round Face catches him by his belt and yanks him back just in time. He topples into the driver's seat and she climbs in after him, ignoring the spew of profanities spilling from his mouth as he rights himself. 

Round Face yanks up her dress for the extra gun tucked on the inside of her thigh. The expanse of skin, milky and smooth in the moonlight, is enticing enough for him to pause in appreciation for a moment – he mentally files the image away for later, before shoving back the clenching feeling in his gut to start hot-wiring the engine. 

“Any day now, Bakugou!” she warns, and a quick glance over his shoulder reveals Round Face with two pistols in hand, firing shots over the edge of the boat.

“Calm your tits, I’m tryin’!” He grimaces as he peers at the mess of wires, the darkness making the job twice as difficult, until the loud roar of the engine shakes the entire boat. “Fuck yeah.” 

It’s a half-baked job – he can’t tell which wires are rigged for the cooling system, so they’ve got about five minutes before he needs to sit down and hook things up properly – but it's good enough to get them out and buy some time. He slams his foot on the gas pedal, and within a minute, they’re jetting out into the harbor. 

Round Face fires off a few final shots at the two figures on the shoreline, before slumping into one of the seats.

“Damn, and those were new too,” she mutters, frowning at her dirty bare feet. She pulls her hair out of its messy updo, shaking the strands free and letting the wind tousle her hair. “Hey, Bakugou?”

“Hah?”

“You owe me a new pair of heels.”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ─── 

 [0039 _ 0419 _ Sicily]

Bakugou doesn’t know how long it’s been. All he knows is that he’s exhausted, his arms have gone numb from being tied up over his head, and he’s astutely aware that has a very low chance of getting himself out of here alive.

A rough, hacking laugh bubbles from his dry throat, one that is quickly cut short by another punch to his bruised, if not broken, ribs.

“I’m going to ask you one more time.” The gloved hand that grabs his face feels odd against his skin, and Bakugou has to bite back a wince at how the fingers dig into his welling cheek. “Where. Is. The. Drive?”

“Eat shit, fuckface,” he croaks, hoping that Round Face listened to him and got the hell out of dodge like she was supposed to. The backhand that hits him sends black spots dancing in his vision, and he spits out another mouthful of blood. “S’that all you’ve got?”

He hears a low murmur, his head ringing too loudly for him to properly focus on translating the foreign words, but what he does register is the cold press of a knife blade below his chin, tilting his hanging head back until he’s blearily looking into dark, vicious eyes.

“You should pray that your partner has a looser tongue.” Bakugou’s blood runs cold when a sharp smile grows across the man’s face. “It would be a pity to damage such a pretty face.”

He hears a low murmur of voices, and his attention is drawn to the side as a metal door scrapes open. His heart drops to the floor when he sees Round Face bracketed by four men, looking a little roughed up with blood dripping from a cut at her temple.

“Miss Uraraka,” the man says genially, and to Bakugou’s surprise, Round Face flinches in response. “I am delighted to hear that you’ve agreed to cooperate.” The knife at his neck is pulled away, but Bakugou turns his face, trying to catch the brunette's eye.

“Y-you promised to let him go if I gave you the drive.” Her voice is soft, trembling in a way that bellies fear. It’s completely out of character, and suspicion tickles the back of Bakugou's mind as the men take her timidness at face value. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“My dear, I gave you my word.” The cooed words feel slimy and disgusting, but she relaxes a little, her eyes darting over to Bakugou in worry. “He’s alive – well, mostly.”

“How do I know you’ll keep your promise?”

“You asked for no guns, yes?” Round Face keeps her act up, even as the man reaches out to touch her shoulder, caressing it in a gesture of comfort. “As promised – no guns. You do not have to fear me, lovely. I won’t hurt you.”

“Good to know.” Round Face’s posture straightens, her tremulous smile shifting to something darker. “Sorry, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to return the favor.”

Bakugou catches a reflective flash of metal before her hand darts out, burying the blade of a knife into the man’s trachea. The rest of the grunts in the room freeze, stunned as she yanks her arm back in a way that makes blood spray across her dirty tank top before leaping into action.

He’s seen Round Face in a few fights, but those had always been hand-to-hand. It’s the first time he’s seeing her use the trench knives she keeps tucked at her waist, and it feels an awful lot like a revelation.

She’s quick and brutal, alternating between strikes to the face and stomach between sloppy blocks and poorly coordinated attempts to stop her rampage. She uses their numbers to her advantage, separating her assailants until she takes down two, then three more, then another two, before someone manages to grab her wrists from behind.

Bakugou will never admit it, but his breath catches in his throat for just a split second. Then, Round Face taps her foot against the ground, and kicks the blade protruding from the heel of her boot into her attacker’s shin, and dives right back into the fray.

He’s sleep-deprived and starving and still reeling from the effects of the torture, and his head is throbbing to the point where he feels like it might explode. Still, Bakugou has never seen something as beautiful as the sight of his partner carving her way through about a dozen men in nothing more than a ratty top and baggy pants, a pair that he’s pretty sure belongs to him.  

It’s over in just a few minutes. Round Face doesn’t even bother wiping down her knives before cutting Bakugou loose, catching him in surprisingly strong arms as he collapses.

“Thought I told you to run,” he huffs, pins running up and down his arms as his blood starts working its way back into the limbs. Through his broken and bloodied nose, Round Face smells like sweat and iron and dirt, panting a little as she lowers them both to the ground.

“Did you really think I’d just leave you to die?” She gives him a scathing look even as she scans him up and down, cataloguing what she can about his injuries. Her touch is gentle as she ghosts over his cheek, worrying her bottom lip as her eyes dart over his face. “C’mon – let’s get out of here.”

If his body wasn’t currently screaming in excruciating pain, Bakugou thinks that he probably would’ve been inclined to say more. If his head wasn’t currently making the world spin like he was on the world’s worst carnival ride, he thinks that he probably would’ve given into the sudden, bizarre urge to kiss her.

Instead, he lets his head rest heavy in the crook of her shoulder as she piggybacks him out of the decrepit warehouse, and absently savors the warmth in his chest that burns, bold and bright.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ─── 

 [0044 _ 1108 _ Caracas]

He feels the metallic taste of blood explode in his mouth, the sensation jarring as he sneers. His attacker goes down after Bakugou plants his fist directly into the man's throat, the body crumpling, and he curses as he sees another round of goons round the corner.

“Such fuckin’ bullshit,” he grumbles, grabbing the briefcase and bolting. “Where the fuck are you, Round Face?!”

“I’ve been at the rendezvous point for the past ten minutes! Where the hell are you?!” Uraraka’s voice filters through the comms with a low snarl, and there’s a heavy thump that follows. “I just – God, can you not?!”  

“The fuck?”

“The creep’s got friends, they followed me!” He curses as he skids past a street vendor, ducking down a side alley. He can see Uraraka ahead, fighting off two assailants with just her fists, and she manages to knock one out only for another to grab her around the neck.

She’s gasping, clawing at the hand squeezing at her throat when Bakugou runs up, smashing the briefcase in his hand into the back of her attacker’s head. The man drops like a rock, and Bakugou doesn’t even waste a moment in grabbing Uraraka by the wrist and yanking her to her feet.  

“Hurry the fuck up!”

“You're the one who was late!” she yells, keeping pace as they ran towards the canals.

“Less talking, more running,” he shouts back.

They’re two blocks away from the docks when they’re cut off by three men who lunge at them out of fucking nowhere, knocking both of them off course. Bakugou hits the ground hard, Round Face letting out a quiet curse as she follows, and they both look up to see a bunch of goons quickly approaching.  

He counts the heads on instinct – five, ten, fifteen – before a rain of bullets has them scrambling behind a dumpster, taking cover. Bakugou snarls when a glance behind them shows nothing but a dead end, and it’s clear that they were driven into a trap.

“What’s the plan?” Uraraka shouts, and he doesn’t have to look over to know that she’s tense, ready to fight.

Bakugou knows that she lost both her guns in a shoot-out just hours earlier, and that she’s sitting on only a few knives. He has about half of the rounds left in either of his pistols, and unless they land a kill shot on every fucker heading their way, they’re not going to make it out alive.

… there’s an idea.

“Wanna make a bet, Cheeks?”” He tosses one pistol at her, and shoots her a smirk. He peeks around the dumpster, missing the startled look she gives him at the unfamiliar nickname. “Headshots only – the loser has to file all the paperwork for the next five missions alone.”

Brown eyes flicker to the mob converging at the mouth of the alley, and she tosses a grin back at him, sharp and full of teeth.

“Deal,” she bites out. Her hands are already going through the motions of checking the magazine, but he doesn’t miss the determined, fierce look on her face.

“Oh, in case you didn’t know,” she adds casually, the sly glint in her eye making something flutter uncomfortably in his stomach, “I was first in my class in sharpshooting.”

“Put your money where your mouth is,” he retorts. Without missing a beat, he takes aim and plants a bullet square in the forehead of one grunt, just as Uraraka does the same.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ─── 

 [0052 _ 0351 _ Dubai]

Bakugou sighs, head thumping against the wooden walls of the safehouse. His head is spinning, throat full of cotton – he hasn’t slept in nearly twenty-four hours, and all he wants to do is pass out.

He can’t though. He’s supposed to be watching Uraraka, who’s doing her best impression of a koala with her head resting on his chest. She looks dazed, staring up at him with a funny expression, and he mentally steels himself for another ridiculous fact pulled from the depths of her brain.

Unfortunately, instead of some random space fact or obscure trivia, she blurts out the very last thing he ever expects to hear from her.

“I haven’t had decent sex in months,” she says mournfully. It’s not the worst or the weirdest thing she’s said since getting hit by some weird truth serum, but for some reason, the admission has him shifting uncomfortably in his own skin. He knows himself enough to recognize the stirring feelings of interest, deep in his stomach.

He tells himself that he hates it.

He also knows, deep in his heart, that he really doesn’t.

Bakugou taps the comm-link in his ear, stolen from Uraraka after she’d become all loopy. “You sure there isn’t some antidote for this shit?”

“Positive.” Aizawa’s voice is as flat as ever, but Bakugou can hear the laughter hidden below the words. “It’s only an hour, problem child. You’ve got about half of that left.”

“Fuck me,” he mutters. Right now, thirty minutes sounds like an eternity.

He doesn’t know if he can sit here with Uraraka in his lap for that long without popping a boner, because she fits perfectly against him and he also hasn’t gotten laid in ages. And even though it’s been months since she’d saved him, the urge to kiss her hasn’t entirely gone away.

“Fuck you?” Uraraka looks up at him, cocking her head thoughtfully. “I don’t know. You look constipated all the time – that’s probably not a good thing in bed.”

He feels warmth flood his face, Aizawa’s snickers carry over the comms, loud and clear. “I’m a great fuck,” he snaps back heatedly, anger flaring when she doesn’t look the least bit convinced. “I am!”

“Uh huh.” He watches incredulously as she rolls her eyes, rubbing her face against his shirt. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Just a reminder: fraternization between agents while on the job is heavily discouraged.” Aizawa’s voice drawls in his ear. “Twenty-five minutes, now. Don’t get too comfortable, Bakugou.”

At that moment, he wants nothing more than to hurl himself into the sun. His body, however, doesn’t agree – Uraraka shifts, her hips rubbing against his crotch, and his abdomen involuntarily tightens in anticipation. “Fuck off.”

The words are directed at both his traitorous dick and Aizawa alike, but unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to have an effect on either of them. 

He sighs again, glancing down at Uraraka’s peaceful expression, and steadfastly ignores the quickening of his heartbeat as she snuggles deeper into him.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ─── 

 [0061 _ 2038 _ San Francisco]

When they both hear the faint thump of footsteps headed in their direction, both of them freeze. 

There aren’t any exits other than the door they used to sneak in, no places to hide either. The flash drive is already tucked into his jacket pocket, the computer wiped and everything rearranged to look untouched, but there is literally no reason for the two of them to be in a private office, tucked as far away from the party as possible. 

He’s already setting his shoulders, reaching for a gun and the heavy marble paperweight on the desk, when Uraraka suddenly grabs his hands. 

“I’m sorry,” she breathes, her face red for some reason. He doesn’t know what she’s apologizing for, but then she tosses one arm over her shoulder and shoves his other hand into the deep, open V-neck of her fancy pink gown. 

His mind goes blank. Bakugou doesn’t even register Uraraka yanking at his shirt and tie, the buttons going flying. All his brain can focus on is the heavy weight of her bare breast under his palm, smooth and warm and sitting perfectly within his hand. 

“Cheeks –?” 

She tugs him forward by his belt, foot nudging his calf, and he only really understands what she’s trying to do when she hikes a leg over his hip and kisses him. 

This is a bad idea. This is a horrible, monumentally bad idea - because Bakugou has been thinking about this since that time in Italy – but when Uraraka shyly licks at the seam of his lips, all rational thought just flies out of his head. 

He lets out a low groan, fingers digging into her hair and stepping closer to deepen the kiss. She lets out a startled squeak, and he takes the opportunity to flick his tongue into her mouth as he starts to knead at her breast, thumb instinctively running across her rapidly hardening nipple.

She tastes like the mojito she drank earlier, mint and lime and rum and sugar. He sucks at her bottom lip, savoring the warm slide of her tongue and the way her fingers are clenching the sides of his shirt – Uraraka is warm and plush and rubbing against him in a way that makes all the blood in his head shoot straight to his dick, and when he grinds into her, it pulls a desperate mewl from her throat. 

Bakugou doesn’t know when he backs her up into the desk, but she draws back just long enough to hop onto the polished surface, face flushed and eyes glassy and chest heaving. He has a split second of respite before she pulls him back in, arching her back and pressing her breast into his hand, and she lets out a throaty, loud moan. 

Faintly, he registers a man’s voice behind him, stuttering in surprise. “W-what the –?” 

Uraraka gasps, shying back suddenly and covering herself with her hands in a show of embarrassment. The action breaks Bakugou out of his lust-filled haze, and he leans close, trying to shield her from prying eyes. 

“Oi, what the fuck?!” He glares over his shoulder at a man he recognizes as Giran’s second in command. 

The man, Takeru or something, looks embarrassed, but also does a piss-poor job of pretending that he’s not staring. 

“Sorry, man,” he says, sounding a little envious as he eyes them, and Bakugou feels his hackles rising at the way the little bastard’s eyes linger on the open expanse of Uraraka’s thigh. “Didn’t mean to ruin the mood, but you ain’t really supposed to be back here.”

“I’m so sorry.” She slides off the desk, head hung in shame, and Bakugou reluctantly pulls himself away so she can readjust the neckline of her dress. “We got a little carried away –”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re leavin’,” he snaps with a growl. “C’mon, Cheeks.”

He grabs her by the wrist and shoves past the bastard. Takeru shouts something as they retreat down the hallway and head back to the party, but Bakugou doesn't give a single fuck about what that extra has to say.

All he can think of is her warm, smooth skin against his hand, the taste of rum and soft, slightly chapped lips. 

She pulls herself out of his grip, tucking his arm around the crook of her waist as they make a show of returning from an illicit sexual encounter. They’re both disheveled, Bakugou keeping up the act by letting his hands wander up her sides as he steers them towards the exit, and he lets Uraraka stammer out embarrassed apologies to anyone who happens to cross their path. 

He doesn’t bother with any niceties, nor does he care how rude he’s being as he steers Uraraka out into the cold night air and down the street. All he wants is an explanation.

When they’re far enough away, he tugs her into the shadowed entry of a building and doesn’t hesitate to push her up against the cool, rough brick.

“... Bakugou?”

“Shit.” He leans his forehead against the wall, right next to her ear, and Uraraka’s breath catches when he exhales heavily, breath ghosting over her ear. “What the hell was that?”

She shifts a little, clearing her throat. “Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable,” she says primly, and he pulls back with a huff, staring down at her. 

“Tch.” His nostrils flare at the sight of her swollen lips, hair mussed and the neckline of her gown lying crooked on either side of her sternum. “You kiss all your partners like that, or am I just special?” he asks, voice low, and her eyes shine, rich and molten in the dim light of the street.

“Just you,” she admits, and there’s a tiny smile tugging at one corner of her mouth. 

“I thought you were supposed to keep me in line or somethin’.” There’s a dare lurking behind that liquid gaze, and when she tilts her chin up in an unspoken challenge, he swallows. “Isn’t there some bullshit rule about not makin’ out with your mission partners?”

“While on the job,” she emphasizes, and at that he shuffles in, just a little closer. “And technically... we got the intel, right? So, mission accomplished.”  

She winks slyly, and he grins. “Well, I’m not gonna argue with that,” he says, and leans down to catch her lips in another kiss.

Uraraka inhales sharply, throwing her arms over his shoulders, and as she melts into him, Bakugou thinks that having a partner might not be such a bad thing after all.

#kacchako #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bakuraka #kacchakoweek2020 #by nebbia #spy au #fanfiction

[dallanebbia]

selcouth

fandom: bnha pairing: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 6.6k warnings: minor descriptions of injuries synopsis: five times uraraka held bakugou’s hand – and the one time he held hers. pre-relationship, second year, future fic notes: written for day 5 of kacchako week 2020, with the prompt ‘hand holding.’ fun fact, this was the very last prompt i wrote for this event! i went back and forth with a ton of different plots,  but i ended up with a good ol’ 5+1 fic, ft. lots of fluff and an emotionally dumb, oblivious bakugou. when i started writing this ship, it was hard for me to get into bakugou’s head to write from his pov, but i think i’m getting a little better at it :) ao3: [link]

selcouth (n.) – Old English, something unfamiliar, unusual or wondrous

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The first time Uraraka held his hand was literally only because he had no other choice.

“Jeez, Bakugou… do you always hafta be so intense about things?”

Uraraka winced at the grotesque sight of Bakugou’s knee, swelling into an angry purple color between the shredded remains of his hero costume pants. 

“Tch, like I was gonna let someone else beat me to the action,” he scowled, leaning against an electrical pole for support.

In retrospect, launching himself headfirst into an ongoing robbery wasn’t the smartest idea – especially when he was only supposed to be an intern. He’d kicked ass of course – those shitty villains had nothing on him – but the busted kneecap and fractured foot he got in exchange weren’t really doing him any favors. 

Kamui Woods had taken one look at him, sighed heavily, and radioed Uraraka to escort Bakugou back to the agency for healing while he dealt with the police.

Bakugou had protested, saying that he didn’t need help – but it was quickly becoming clear that he wasn’t going anywhere. The pain in his legs was excruciating, throbbing in time to his heartbeat, and it took every ounce of his remaining energy to keep himself from collapsing in the middle of the street. 

“Bakugou –” Uraraka bit her lip, watching in worry as he tried to push himself upright, flinching violently. On instinct, she stepped forward, immediately coming up to try and steady him. “Let me –”

“I don’t need your fuckin’ help, Round Face,” he barked, jerking himself away from her outstretched hands. It was a mistake, though – he grimaced, his face crumpling in pain, and he missed the way Uraraka’s eyes narrowed in determination. 

“There’s no way you’re gettin’ back to the agency like that, Bakugou,” she said sternly. “Quit bein’ such a damn edgelord and let me help you!”

“Fuck off,” Bakugou snarled. “I don’t need some pink-cheeked – you bitch, don’t you fucking dare.”

“You really wanna be carried outta here on a stretcher?” He felt anger boiling in his blood just thinking about it. “That’s what I thought.” The set of Uraraka’s mouth just tilted down stubbornly, and before he could keep protesting, she slapped a hand over his bicep.

“I’ll murder you.” His eyes glared daggers into the side of her head, but the pain in his expression eased as he rose into the air.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Uraraka rolled her eyes, grabbing a fistful of his pants and tugging him along as she started down the street. There were already emergency responders helping to clean the crime scene, the police herding the robbers into cars, and all that was left was for them to check into medical and write up their reports. “Lord Explosion Murder, we get it already.”

“That’s King to you, Round Face,” he spat out, making a face as his body started to turn awkwardly in the air. “Oi, quit movin’ me around so much, I’m gonna flip over!”

Uraraka threw him an annoyed look, and adjusted her grip so that she was holding a bigger handful of fabric. “Well, it’s this or your foot, and I don’t wanna risk makin’ your injuries worse than they already are.”

“You’ll make them worse if you keep making me bump into random shit,” he sputtered furiously. He tried batting himself out of the way of a traffic sign, only to be jerked out of the way at the last second like a balloon. “Fuck – I said quit that!”

“If I knew you were gonna be such a pain about this…” Uraraka huffed and came to a stop in the middle of the goddamn sidewalk, ignoring all the attention they were drawing. “Fine, lemme just – “

Bakugou faltered as she yanked him down closer to her, grabbing his gloved hand in hers.

“O-oi, what are you – ?” He scrabbled at his arm, trying to shove her away, but his bulky gauntlets made it virtually impossible.

“S’just my hand, Bakugou,” Uraraka sighed, and tossed him a frown when he kept trying to pull himself out of her grip. “Stop bein’ so weird about it!”

“I’m not being weird,” he snapped, biting the inside of his cheek to hide his discomfort. Had her grip always been so strong? “I could blow your fucking arm off!”  

That earned him a scoff. “You’ve got the most control over your quirk outta anyone from our class, Bakugou. There’s no way you’re gonna blow my arm off,” she said exasperatedly, and he blinked a little at the way she said it, as if it were obvious. “Look, if it’s such a big deal, I’ll princess carry you back instead.”

“Try that and I’m actually gonna kill you,” he growled darkly. Shitty Hair was supposed to swing by the agency so they could grab dinner, and there was no fucking way Bakugou was letting his dumbfuck best friend see him carried in like a damsel in distress.  

Uraraka grinned to herself in victory. “You already said that.”

“Well, I mean it!” he grumbled, and slowly resigned himself to being dragged along like a balloon. At least he was floating right-side up now – and facing the right direction this time.

“… Wait. Did you call me a fuckin’ edgelord?”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The second time Uraraka held his hand was an accident.

“Oh sweet Jesus.”

Bakugou exhaled slowly, trying to quell the frustration bubbling in his stomach, and shot a dirty look to the side.

“Oi,” he snapped, glaring at the petite brunette sitting next to him. “Zip it, Round Face.” Uraraka had been squealing and muttering under her breath since the damn movie started, and he was over it.

“Eeek – sorry!” Uraraka whispered, flashing him a wavering, apologetic smile before an upswell in the creepy background music made her features contort in a wince.

Bakugou just grunted, turning his eyes back to the laptop screen. He didn’t know how Pinky got Uraraka to join their weekly movie night ritual, but he had ended up next to her on Shitty Hair’s bed, the two of them squished her up against the wall. Pikachu and Tape Face were sprawled out on the rest of the bed, slowly dozing off, but Shitty Hair and Pinky, who had commandeered the floor space, had left the room ten minutes ago for snacks, and they hadn’t come back yet.

He hoped to hell that they weren’t making out in the hallway again.

“Oh god,” he heard Uraraka squeak quietly, as on the screen, a flash of lightning showed the silhouette of a man in the dark house, while the female protagonist was sleeping, completely unaware. “Oh god, oh fuck no – “

His eyes cut over to the side, eyeing Uraraka in surprise. “The hell?” he muttered, and brown eyes darted in his direction. “Since when do you curse?”

Uraraka frowned at him, but flinched as the woman on screen jolted awake. “M’allowed to curse, Bakugou, I’m not a kid,” she whispered back fiercely, but flinched as another flash of lightning showed the dark figure standing by the woman’s bed. “Ohmygod, ohmygod –“

He scoffed. “It ain’t even that scary, Cheeks,” he murmured with an eyeroll. “This is pussy shit.”

“Maybe for you!” she hissed, and let out a whimper as the music faded, leaving only the sound of the woman’s heavy breathing filtering through the speakers. “Oh my god, no no no – ”

At this point, Bakugou just tilted his head to sneer at her. “Seriously? You could literally fuck that guy up in a second.”

Uraraka made a face. “Just ‘cause I could, doesn’t mean it’s any less creepy! Nobody wants to wake up and find some serial killer in their house!” she protested, a little too loudly, and they both froze as Pikachu groaned a little, shifting so he was sprawled over Tape Face a bit more, before falling limp again.

For a few blissful minutes, she kept quiet while the movie played – but when the main character let out a dramatic gasp, she jumped again, hands flying to her face. She curled herself into a ball, peeking through the fingers covering her eyes, and Bakugou couldn’t help but mutter, “Tch, you’re such a wimp.”

Uraraka’s head whipped up, eyes narrowed. “I am not a wimp!” she whispered hotly.

A blonde eyebrow rose doubtfully. “Are too.”

“Are not!”

“Are too.”

“Are not!”

“Yes, you are,” he emphasized lowly, nodding at the laptop screen. He recognized the scene playing on the screen, and he had to bite back his smirk as he goaded, “You’re not even watching the damn movie.”

“Fine, I’ll prove it!” With a huff, Uraraka sat up, leaning forward and staring at the laptop with knitted brows. Bakugou let himself grin a little – baiting her was fun, but he kept his eyes on her as the main character crept down the dark hallway. He’d seen the movie once a while back, but he remembered that there was a jump scare, just after –   

“Holyfuckingshit!” The shrill, tinny scream from the movie almost covered Uraraka’s strangled squeal of fright, but Bakugou sure as hell didn’t miss the way the brunette leapt clean into the air, diving into Shitty Hair’s comforter like an ostrich hiding its head in the sand. Bakugou couldn’t quite hide his snickering, his body shaking as he cackled quietly, but when he tried to bring his hand up to wipe at his eyes, something was preventing him from moving.

“The fuck?” he uttered, staring down in bewilderment. At some point, Uraraka had grabbed his hand during her freak out, clenching it tight against her forehead, as if trying to hide her entire body behind the width of his hand. She looked utterly ridiculous, but some part of him couldn’t help but notice how fucking tiny her hands were.

Then, he realized that he was starting to float off the bed.

“Oi, let me go!” he hissed, shaking his hand to try and get her attention.

“H-huh?” Uraraka sat up, a little wild-eyed, and Bakugou leaned over to poke her in the middle of her forehead, hard.

“Your quirk, you idiot!”

Her mouth dropped open in mortification as she realized she had commandeered his hand, pushing it away from her abruptly as she quickly pressed her fingers together. “Sorry, sorry!” she squeaked, and Bakugou dropped back onto the mattress with a thump. “Oh god, I didn’t mean to – ”

“Will you chill the fuck out already?” he grumbled, repositioning himself on the mattress and kicking Pikachu’s fat ass over to give him some more room. He didn’t want her to use him as a teddy bear again, so he grabbed a pillow and shoved it at her. “Here, if you really need to hide behind something...”

He let his voice trail off as Uraraka took the pillow, still flushed in embarrassment. “… sorry,” she offered again, a little timidly, and Bakugou sighed.

“…Whatever, it’s fine,” he muttered, balling the hand she had held in a fist. It felt weird for some reason – why did his palm feel so prickly all of a sudden? “Just shut up already, will you?”

Uraraka just mimed zipping her lips together, nodding furiously, and he rolled his eyes as he turned back to the screen, a good half-meter between them.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The third time Uraraka held his hand was just… weird.

“Shit.”

Bakugou glared down at the sloppy tangle of gauze wrapped loosely around his hands. With a grimace, he yanked the bandages away, gritting his teeth against the pain that shot through his body, the echoing ache digging down deep into his bones.

He wanted to call Shitty Hair for help, but the redhead was out for the weekend, visiting his family. There was no way he was going to cave and ask anyone else for help, so Bakugou had sucked it up and tried taking care of it himself.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t going so well.

“Eh? Is that you, Bakugou?” His head snapped up at the sound of a familiar voice, and a glance over his shoulder revealed Uraraka, standing in the entrance of the common room in her pajamas. Her hair was a mess and she was rubbing at her face sleepily, but none of that explained what she was doing up at three in the fucking morning.

“What the hell are you doing?” he scowled, turning his back to her.

“I got thirsty,” she yawned. “Why are you up so late? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“What are you, my fuckin’ mother?” he snapped. “Fuck off.”

“Right…” Uraraka pursed her lips, padding to the kitchen. “I was just askin’, sheesh…”

Even though his body was hidden by the couch, and there was no way for her to see anything other than his head as she crossed the room, Bakugou still buried his hands into the front pockets of his hoodie. He was in pain and frustrated and exhausted, and he felt like a spring wound too tight. Uraraka’s sudden appearance had caught him off guard, and he felt oddly exposed for some reason.

She disappeared into the kitchen, and Bakugou exhaled slowly. He slowly pulled his hands back out, grabbing the bundle of gauze with a wince and settling down to untangle the mess for the hundredth time. He could feel his hands protesting, the stitches crawling up his palms already starting to bleed through antibacterial gel he’d lathered on earlier, and he slumped even further into the couch as frustration burned at the backs of his eyes.

“Um… Bakugou?”

He froze, eyes sliding to the side to see Uraraka. She was standing at the other end of the couch, a glass of water in hand, and looked both hesitant and determined all at once.

“Mind your own fuckin’ business, Round Face.” He ducked his head, swallowing as he took a steadying breath.

He picked at the tangled bandages, but the couch dipped suddenly under him. He felt Uraraka scoot close until she was sitting at his side, body turned to face him as she said softly, “If you want, I can…?”

She held her hand out, waiting for him to give her the gauze.

His first instinct was to say no. It was bad enough that he had to ask Shitty Hair for help, but he didn’t want anyone else seeing what a weak little shit he was. He had to learn how to do it himself at some point too – there wasn’t a point in relying on someone when he could do it alone, just as well or even better.

Still… his gaze fell to her outstretched hand, and he noticed the faint scars covering the skin of her palm and fingers. The pale marks were obviously not new, not years old either – but they were well healed, without any excess scar tissue. He didn’t know how he never noticed them before.

Huh. He flicked his gaze up to her face, where she watched him with patient eyes, gnawing at her lip nervously. Well, not like she can make it worse.

“… whatever.” He slapped the bandages into her waiting palm, and cursed himself for being a dumbass as pain and black dots exploded across his vision. “Do what you want,” he muttered with a grimace. He turned his head away, jaw set stubbornly, but slowly, he let his gaze slide to the side, watching her from the corner of his eye.

To his disgruntlement, Uraraka combed through the mess easily, fingers plucking until the length of gauze was coiled loosely in her lap. She reached towards him, and Bakugou had to bite back the instinct to recoil from her touch as she tugged his hand over, cupping it as she started to wrap his palm.

Her hands were cool against his skin, her touch firm yet gentle. She moved quickly and confidently, as if she’d done this exact same thing a hundred times before, and he didn’t notice his head turning to watch her work until she glanced up at him. She met his gaze with a startled “eep!,” and then immediately directed them back down with an embarrassed flush.

He felt his cheeks turn hot, and a weird buzzing sensation settled below his skin, one that got really loud every time Uraraka’s fingers brushed over his. It wasn’t a bad thing per se, but it felt disconcerting – and after she finished tying off the ends of the bandages, he immediately pulled his hands back.

He examined them, begrudgingly impressed. The wraps looked as good as when Recovery Girl had done them, possibly better – but he figured the pain was the reason he was thinking so weirdly, so he pushed the thought out of his head.

“How do they feel?” Uraraka asked. “Not too tight?”

“S’alright,” he mumbled. “Better than how Shitty Hair does it.”

For some reason, she laughed. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He was really touched that you asked him for help, y’know?”

“He’s fucking dead,” Bakugou growled, because of course Shitty Hair went and blabbed. He leaned back against the cushions with a sigh – the stabbing ache was still there, but it was slowly dulling. Without the stress of trying to wrap his injuries by himself, he felt ten times lighter.

He glanced over to Uraraka, who was staring off into nothing, toying with her half-filled water glass absently. His gaze dropped to her hands again, curiosity niggling at the edge of his brain, and he asked brusquely, “How the hell do you know how to do shit like this anyways?”

She jumped a little, blinking in surprise, but when he didn’t say anything, just waiting for an answer, she giggled nervously. “Oh, well… durin’ my internship with Gunhead, he taught me how to throw knives!”

He jerked upright at that, his eyes bugging out, because what the fuck?

“And I was pretty bad at it at first,” Uraraka continued, rubbing the back of her head sheepishly. “I kept cuttin’ my hands up… so I got a lot of practice with takin’ care of stuff like that!”

“Knives?” he repeated incredulously. “You can throw fuckin’ knives?”

“Yeah?” She shrugged, as if she wasn’t aware of how fucking badass she sounded. “I mean, you never know when you’ll need one – that’s what Gunhead always said. I asked the Support Department to add a bunch to my hero costume, but I hafta pass some sort of test before I’m cleared to carry them…”

Bakugou huffed, clicking his tongue. “Un-fucking-believable,” he muttered, shaking his head. He knew that she was strong, but he could feel his respect for her leaping up a few notches.

Knives. Who would’ve thought?

Unfortunately, Uraraka somehow interpreted his words as disbelief, and her eyes narrowed into a glare.

“Hey, I’m serious!” she scowled, scooting closer so she could shove her hand into his face. “See – this one’s from where I dropped one and tried catchin’ it, but I didn’t get all my fingers on the handle… and this one is because I was testin’ out different weights, and there was this one that was super heavy and slipped and cut my palm. And this one –”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, but continued to listen as she chattered away. His gaze settled on one scar that curved from the middle of her left palm across the meat below her thumb, grazing the back of her wrist like a half-drawn contour line. The mark shined a little, catching the light as her arms moved, and he found himself oddly mesmerized by it.

Absently, he wondered what it would feel like, pressed up against the skin of his palm.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The fourth time Uraraka held his hand didn’t really count – not until he apologized.

“Yield?”

Bakugou scowled, hands scrabbling against the muscled thighs squeezing his neck. “Hell… no…” he croaked through gritted teeth.

 “Ah-ah-ah,” Uraraka chided, her voice already lilting gleefully. The legs around his throat tightened just a little more. “You ain’t gettin’ out this time, Bakugou – yield already!”

He struggled against her for a few more seconds, trying to squirm his way out of the chokehold, but after another warning squeeze, he sighed, falling limp with a groan. “Fine, fine,” he grumbled, “I yield, now let me go!”

He gasped as Uraraka released him, gulping down air as he tried to catch his breath. At his side, Uraraka rolled onto her knees, grinning in victory.

“Heh, that’s one more for me!” she cheered, pumping the air with her fist, and she gave him a cheeky grin. “Better watch out Bakugou, soon you’re gonna be eatin’ my dust!”

“Tch, don’t get all cocky just yet,” he barked, pushing himself up off the floor. He used the bottom of his tank top to wipe at his face, wincing at the sting of sweat dripping into his eyes. “I’ve still got fifty wins to your forty-eight!”

“Yeah, but I’m catchin’ up!” she shot back, waving her hand dismissively. “You used to have like, ten wins on me at one point – just a few more spars and we’ll be tied!”

He scowled, but only because she wasn’t wrong – when they’d first agreed to start sparring together, a little while after his hands had finally healed up properly, he’d been pinning her to the ground consistently. Then, she started going to those supplemental martial arts classes, and he started getting his ass kicked more and more.

For some reason though, he didn’t mind the idea of losing if it meant he was losing to Uraraka.

Still, he had a reputation to uphold, so he rolled his eyes and spat out, “Pft, in your fuckin’ dreams, Cheeks.”

Uraraka paused, head tilting in confusion. “Cheeks?” she asked, brow raised. “What happened to Round Face?”

“I mean…” Bakugou cursed internally – he hadn’t meant to let the nickname slip out, but since it was already out there… he leaned forward and poked her, right below the pink blush staining her cheekbone. “If the shoe fits, and all that shit.”

It was also meant to refer to her ass, but he figured that she didn’t have to know that.

Uraraka’s expression darkened as he kept poking at her cheek, jerking her face away. “Stop that,” she snapped, and Bakugou just smirked.

“Or what?” he said teasingly. He didn’t quite know how it happened, but trolling Uraraka had become his favorite pastimes – she was just too easy to rile up. He just reached forward and poked her again, ignoring the glare she was giving him. “Whatcha gonna do, Cheeks?”

“If you poke me one more time, I swear – ”

He just snorted, going in to squish her cheek again, but Uraraka’s arm whipped up and caught his hand in a claw-like grip, her thumb digging into a pressure point that sent a stabbing pain shooting through him. “Ow, ow – fuck, what the hell – ?!”

She shoved him away as he crumpled under the force of her grip, and her voice was loud and angry as she yelled, “I said stop, Bakugou!”

He fell back, brows knitted in confusion as Uraraka stood up abruptly, stalking over to where they’d placed their things earlier. She pulled on her jacket roughly, grabbing her water bottle, and Bakugou scrambled to his feet as he realized that she was actually upset.

He caught her right before she made it to the locker room, grabbing her shoulder. “Oi, what was that for?”

“Let me go!”

“Not until you explain,” he growled, and yanked her back so she was facing him. “You’re being all moody now, what gives?”

“You were bein’ a jerk,” she snapped, mouth downturned as she stared at him defiantly. “I don’t appreciate bein’ made fun of.”

What? He frowned. “When the hell did I make fun of you?”

“You called me Cheeks!” she exclaimed furiously. “And you kept pokin’ at ‘em, lookin’ all smug!”

She said it so pointedly, as if that had proved her point, but Bakugou just felt even more confused. Were all girls so fuckin’ weird?

“You’ve got chubby cheeks, so I called you Cheeks.” He didn’t know what was happening – he thought the name fit pretty well, but clearly she didn’t agree. “How the fuck is that making fun of you?”

Uraraka’s jaw clenched. “You literally just called them chubby,” she said, her voice tight as she looked away.

“Cause they are, dumbass.” He paused then, studying her, and as she curled an arm over her stomach, he finally realized what she was going on about.

Bakugou frowned. He knew girls were all sensitive about their bodies and stuff, but he’d thought that Uraraka wasn’t the type to worry about that stuff. She was always stuffing her face when there was free food around, and her costume was basically skin-tight; he figured that she had to have some measure of confidence to pull that kind of shit off, but maybe he was wrong.

“M’not saying that you’re fat,” he said slowly, trying to come up with the right words to explain himself. He knew he could come off as an asshole, but he wasn’t the kind of guy who said shit like that. “You’re not, alright?”

“Whatever, Bakugou.” She didn’t seem convinced, rolling her eyes as she tried shrugging his hand away.

“Oi, I mean it.” He tugged on her shoulder insistently until she met his gaze. “Nobody gives a fuck about what you look like, Uraraka. You’re strong, and that’s all that matters. So fuckin’ what if you’ve got chipmunk cheeks – they’re c-cute, so fuck whoever gives you crap about ‘em!”

He stuttered over the word, his face flushing a little, and he had to avert his eyes when she blinked up at him in surprise. It felt awkward as hell, saying something like that out loud, but he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about him.

He didn’t want her thinking that way about herself.

“Oh.” He heard Uraraka exhale slowly, as if trying to gather her thoughts. Then, she laughed a little and said, “Who are you and what have you done to Bakugou?”

“Oi, what’s that supposed to mean?” His head whipped up, a glare ready, but it faltered as he saw the smile on Uraraka’s face as she stared at him. It was small and soft, and there was something he couldn’t quite name lingering in her expression. He felt his tongue go heavy all of a sudden, and all he could do was swallow thickly as a swooping sensation erupted in his stomach.

She shrugged. “You bein’ nice is just… strange, I guess.”

That made him scowl. “I’m always fucking nice, what the hell?”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that, Bakugou,” she said dryly, and then shook her head, huffing a little. “Well, I guess Cheeks is better than Round Face, in any case…”

Her voice trailed off, and the silence that fell between them felt heavy and oppressive as Bakugou shifted on the balls of his feet. There was something weird about the way Uraraka was peering up at him, almost expectantly, but he didn’t know what she was waiting for.

Eventually, he settled on just repeating himself – he figured it wouldn’t hurt to hammer his point in, just one more time. “I mean it, y’know,” he grumbled. “You’re fine the way you are.”

“… Thanks.” For some reason, that made Uraraka’s shoulders slump a little, but before he could read into it, she offered him that weird little smile again. “That means a lot, comin’ from you.”

“Hah?” He blinked. “Why?”

“You’re always upfront and blunt ‘bout what you’re thinkin’,” she explained, and reached up to lay her hand over his, still resting on the curve of her shoulder. She squeezed gently, before dragging it off of her. “I know you really mean it – you aren’t sayin’ stuff just to make me feel better.”

Their hands hung between them, Uraraka still holding his, and goosebumps trailed up his arm as he felt his skin tingle under her touch. Even as she let go, the feeling lingered, and he couldn’t help but flex his hand, trying to work the strange sensation away.

“I don’t do that kind of fake shit,” he said, clearing his throat a little, and tried to hide his discomfort by shoving his hands in his pockets. “But… if you really don’t want me to call you that, I’ll stop.”

Uraraka shook her head. “No, I… I don’t mind it,” she said shyly, twisting her fingers together, and he offered her a nod, mouth quirking upwards as he resisted the odd urge to let himself grin wildly.

“Cheeks it is, then.”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The fifth time Uraraka held his hand was only for half-priced ramen.

“Oh my god.” The brunette stopped dead in her tracks, eyes going wide in awe. “Bakugou, look!!”

He paused, confused, and followed her outstretched arm to the storefront of a local ramen shop. They’d gotten permission to leave campus to grab something for dinner after their sparring session, but they’d agreed on going to the supermarket for food.

Bakugou took a second to examine the restaurant façade, head cocked in confusion. There was nothing out of the ordinary – it seemed like the shop probably had decent ramen, but he could make his own just as easily.

“What the hell am I supposed to be seeing?”

“It’s right there! Look!!” Uraraka made an impatient noise, pointing at the shop again in excitement. “They have a 2-for-1 special on their ramen! It’s half the usual price!!”

Ah. Sure enough, there was a sign propped out in the middle of the sidewalk, advertising the very offer Uraraka mentioned. “Yeah? So?”

“So,” she said, dragging out the word expectantly, “Let’s go!”  

It was his turn to stop, this time turning to her incredulously. “… Hah?”

“Let’s go eat there!” she exclaimed, all starry-eyed. “We came out here to grab dinner, right? I bet they have spicy ramen too…”

“Cheeks…” he said warningly, rolling his eyes at her wheedling tone. “We’re supposed to be getting groceries.”

“Aw, c’mon, Bakugou!” she pouted. “We can get groceries after; this is a once in a lifetime opportunity!”

“Pretty sure that’s supposed to apply to things like winning the lottery, not some deal at a restaurant,” he said dryly. Still, he took a closer look, his brows rising as he read the tiny characters lining the bottom of the sign. “Besides, it’s only for couples. Unless you’ve got a secret boyfriend, I think you’re shit outta luck, Cheeks.”

Without missing a single beat, Uraraka said, “Well, I have you, don’t I?”

Bakugou sputtered, his heart stuttering. “What?”

Uraraka just blinked up at him even more eagerly, a determined smile growing on her face. “My auntie and her best friend used t’pretend to be a couple to get the paired ticket discounts at amusement parks,” she explained casually, and Bakugou could almost begrudgingly admire that – those places were expensive as shit. “This is the same thing!”

“Uh huh,” he said doubtfully. “And how the hell are we supposed to convince people we’re a couple?”

“All we gotta do is hold hands and be happy together,” she said cheerfully. “They’ll totally buy it!”

Hold hands. Bakugou swallowed a little, something turning uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach as he recalled the last few times she had held his hand. The weird feeling in his hand had eventually gone away, but when he’d gone online for more information, the only rational explanation he found was that his skin was reacting badly to her soap or something.

He scowled – he wasn’t going to risk a full-blown allergic reaction just so Uraraka could get a cheap deal on ramen. “Yeah, not happening.”

“C’mon, Bakugou – please?” He faltered a little as she stared up at him with wide, brown eyes. That weird, warm itch started to spread again, his palms going a little sweaty for some reason – what kind of weird-ass soap did she use? “I can’t eat out all that often… and we did come out to grab food, right?”

He clenched his jaw, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly. “No.”

“Please?” she pleaded, shaking his arm. “C’mon, just this once!”

He studied her with narrowed eyes, chin jutting out as he glowered down at her, but she just kept staring back at him, unblinkingly. As they stood there in stubborn silence, he felt that uncomfortable feeling surge to life, crawling up his spine, but he refused to look away even as he felt heat blooming across the back of his neck.

“Cheeks…” he growled warningly. His throat felt a little thick, a weird tightness spreading through his chest, but somehow, he found his resolve wavering a little. Clearly, whatever he was reacting to had already got to him – he might as well just take advantage of it. And it had been a while since he’d eaten ramen…

“Please?” she asked again, and he held her gaze for a few seconds longer before exhaling heavily.

“Ugh… fine,” he growled, scowling at the way Uraraka’s expression switched from puppy dog eyes to satisfied smugness in the blink of an eye. “But if you tell anyone this happened, you’re dead. Got it?”

“My lips are sealed!” she said cheerily, punching the air in enthusiasm as she beamed. “Ahh, this is gonna be great!”

She didn’t even hesitate as she pulled his arms loose, wrapping a hand in one of his. As their palms slid together, something in his gut did a little flip. Somehow, her hand snugly in his, clasped together as she started to tug him forward, and he could feel the ball of his hand rub against that scar he had noticed, back when she’d helped him wrap his hands that one night.

If she ever decided to switch soap brands, he decided that he wouldn’t mind her holding his hand again.

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The one and only time Bakugou held her hand was because she was a forgetful idiot.

He looked over at Uraraka again, watching the way she rubbed her hands together, breathing on them as she shivered. He cast a glare over at her shitty friends, who were standing around like oblivious idiots – couldn’t they see she was freezing?

Ending up at the open-air mall with the rest of his classmates had been the very last thing he’d wanted to do today, but Shitty Hair had gotten Tape Face and Pikachu to help drag him out of the dorms, ignoring his hollering as they literally wrapped him up in tape and carried his squirming body onto the train station. He’d given in at that point – especially when he saw the way Uraraka’s face brighten a little as she saw him enter the train car. She had offered him a wave and a smile, but had otherwise stayed with the rest of her stupid friends, even after arriving at the mall.

He kicked at the ground, slouching as he shoved his hands further into his pockets. Peeking at where Uraraka was sitting again, his eyes narrowed as he saw Deku and Frogface and Four-eyes wandering off, Ponytail and Icy-Hot heading in a different direction, until Uraraka was left alone on the bench, surrounded by a bunch of shopping bags that were too expensive to belong to her.

He chewed on his lip, staring as she rubbed her hands together again, and finally made up his mind.

A glimpse over his shoulder showed the other four idiots he called friends running around the shoe store, surrounded by piles of boxes, and he quickly spun on his heel and stalked over to where Uraraka was sitting, humming some song with her eyes closed. When she didn’t react to his presence, he nudged her leg with his knee.

“Oi. Cheeks.”

“H-huh?” Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on him, and he shifted a little as those big brown eyes made his knees feel oddly weak. “Oh hey, Bakugou, what’s up?”

He thrust his hand out with a sigh. “Gimme your hands.”

“Uh… what?” Uraraka watched him in confusion. “Why – ?”

He huffed, wiggling his fingers. “Just give ‘em to me, Cheeks.”

“O… kay?” The wary glance she gave him almost made him want to roll his eyes, but she still reached forward. She placed her hands on his open palm, almost tentatively, but Bakugou quickly grabbed them, engulfing her tiny ones in his as he squatted down to breathe hot air over her bare fingers.

“What kind of dumbass doesn’t bring gloves with them?” he muttered, brows scrunching in concentration. Uraraka squeaked in surprise, but she let out a sigh of relief as he activated his quirk just enough to let heat radiate out from his glove-covered palms. “It’s the middle of the winter, you idiot.”

Uraraka’s face went a deep pink, most likely from the cold air. “I was runnin’ late!” she said bashfully. “By the time I remembered them, we were already on the train…”

“Stupid.” He wanted to make a comment about how shitty her friends were for not helping her, but he bit it back in favor of bringing his hands to his mouth, pulling the gloves off with his teeth. “Here, put these on.”

“E-eh?!” Uraraka waved her arms, flustered, as he shoved them towards her, shaking her head. “Bakugou, what… won’t you be – ”

“I have my quirk, Cheeks.” He gave her a flat stare, holding up a sparking hand. “Take ‘em, it looks like your fingers are gonna fall off.”

“Ah, I’ll be fine, you don’t have to – ”

“Fuck, do I have to do everything myself?” he grumbled, and her mouth fell open a little as he took her hand – and he was right, even with how he’d warmed her hands up, they were still practically icicles – and shoved it into one glove, before doing the same to the other side. Uraraka was still staring at him in bewilderment, so Bakugou tucked in her sleeves before tightening the toggles around her wrists to keep her body heat from escaping.

He checked one last time to make sure all her fingers were in the right places, before letting out a satisfied huff. “There. Now you won’t get fuckin’ frostbite,” he said firmly, and smirked a little – there was no way Uraraka could say he wasn’t nice after this.

Except… when he looked up, she was staring at him with a strangely soft expression that made his lungs go tight. It made him feel all hot and weird all of a sudden – the stupid allergies were coming back, dammit – and he stood up quickly, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

“Give ‘em back later,” he said, suddenly feeling nervous for some reason. He shoved his hands into his pockets, nodding at her as he tried to act cool, and turned around to head back to the shoe store.

He only took a few steps before the sound of Uraraka’s voice called out to him. “W-wait! Bakugou!”

He turned quickly, seeing her standing behind him, his gloves looking comically large hanging off the ends of her arms. “Hah?”

“U-uh, just…” She fidgeted, shifting her weight between her feet, but then her lips stretched into a huge, beaming smile, her eyes crinkling. His heart started to race in his chest under the force of Uraraka’s grin. “Thank you! For…”

“Y-yeah, yeah,” he stuttered, feeling his cheeks burn. “Whatever.” Her smile somehow got a little wider, and he quickly spun around, nearly sprinting away.

Bakugou didn’t look back at her, despite how much he wanted to – but if he had, he would’ve seen the way Uraraka brought his gloves to her nose, inhaling the lingering smoky-sweet smell as she hid a goofy grin behind her hands. 

#kacchako #kacchakoweek2020 #katsuki bakugou #uraraka ochako #bakuraka #by nebbia #bnha #hand holding

[dallanebbia]

sidereus

fandom: bnha pairing: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 2.5k warnings: none synopsis: nine months after he starts hooking up with uraraka, bakugou takes a leap of faith. fluff, established friends with benefits, future fic notes: written for day 4 of kacchako week 2020, with the prompt ‘stargazing.’ i love the angst that comes with the fwb trope, but i wanted to give these poor kids a break. they deserve some soft feels. ao3: [link]

sidereus (adj.) – Latin, full of stars; heavenly

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

[Cheeks, 23:53] – hey u awake?

Bakugou squinted at his phone in the darkness, annoyance flaring in him as he saw the clock. He shook his head, exhaling slowly, before slowly typing out a response.

[GZ, 23:58] – no

[GZ, 23:58] – fuck off

He tossed his phone back onto his bedside table, head falling heavily into his pillows. He closed his eyes, the lull of sleep pulling him in, before another musical chime shocked him out of his drowsiness.

“For the love of god, woman,” he growled, grabbing the device and peering at the screen.

[Cheeks, 00:02] – can i come over? 

[Cheeks, 00:03] – please

He frowned, staring at the glowing screen, trying to figure out what that meant. Did she want to talk? Did she get locked out of her apartment again? Did she miss him? They had literally fucked in a closet at work two days ago - did she just need him to get off again and work off her stress? 

Something heavy turned in his stomach at the thought, and he mulled over his response for another minute before typing out a quick reply. Bakugou sighed, sitting up with a grunt, and mentally made a note to text Kirishima that he wouldn’t be able to make it to morning training. He didn’t know what Uraraka wanted, and considering their track record, she was probably going to be staying the night.

[GZ, 00:10] – fine

[Cheeks, 00:10] – b there in 10

He scrubbed at his eyes, yawning as he threw himself out of bed. Grimacing a little at the odd taste in his mouth, he took a detour to the bathroom to brush his teeth again and gargle some mouthwash.

Bakugou took a moment to stare at his reflection. There were bags under his eyes, a weariness that reflected the aches and pains of a twelve-hour patrol day, and he ran a hand through his messy hair. He thought momentarily about styling the spikes like he usually did, but couldn’t bring himself to muster up the energy. Instead, he tossed on a thin headband, pushing his bangs out of his eyes, and padded to his kitchen to make a pot of tea.

He was on his second cup when he heard the doorbell ring. Bakugou felt a little more human with the boost of caffeine in his system, and when he opened the door, the sight of Uraraka in a fuzzy pink bathrobe and shower sandals stopped him in his tracks.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

“It was this or Mina’s leopard print trench coat,” she said, rolling her eyes before pushing her way inside. He raised an eyebrow, watching curiously as Uraraka shed both the robe and her shoes, leaving her in tiny shorts and a loose top that did nothing to hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “She’s having one of her marathon sex sessions again.”

“Again?” He wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t that… like, the second time this month?”

“Third,” Uraraka murmured. She looked exhausted, her usually bright eyes dull, but she gave him a small, weary grin anyways. “Thanks for letting me come over.”

Bakugou shrugged, ignoring the squeeze of his chest at the sight of her smile. “It’s whatever,” he muttered brusquely, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her into the kitchen. “Sit down, you’re literally about to keel over.”

Uraraka slumped into one of the stools at the kitchen counter, not even hesitating as she took his half-full cup and drained it like a shot. “I’m gonna be honest – I don’t think I’m really up for sex right now,” she murmured with a sigh.

Bakugou mentally crossed the option off his list, ignoring a small pang of disappointment. If she wasn’t here to get dicked, then there were only two other possibilities. One of them made his lungs tighten, a thread of fear winding itself around his heart. 

Casually, he rolled his eyes, grabbing the cup from her and refilling it. “Then what the fuck did you text me for?”

She paused, an expression he couldn’t quite place flickering across her face. “Guess I just didn’t want to be alone,” she said with a tentative half-smile, catching the cup as he slid it back across the counter to her.

As she sipped at the tea, he took the chance to look her over. The hunched shoulders, the dark circles, and the way she winced as she rolled her neck – there was something eating at her. He recognized the familiar signs; he saw the same ones staring back at him through a mirror, only a little while ago.

“Shitty day?”

“… yeah.” She sighed, sipping at the tea more slowly this time. “You know how it is.”

She didn’t have to elaborate any further. Between the two of them, Bakugou was the more fucked up one, and he knew better than anyone how bad things could get. It was partially why they started this entire arrangement in the first place.

Things had been weird between them lately. The usually rough, aggressive sex from the beginning was rarer now, replaced with something slower and more intimate. More and more often, they ended up tucked up against each other, sometimes even without anything sexual happening, and each time it happened, it left him feeling unsure of where they stood. 

For Bakugou, this entire thing was no longer about fucking out their frustrations – it started to mean something more, and he was terrified of fucking things up. 

He tried not to think about how his apartment felt empty when she wasn’t there. He tried not to think about how much he missed waking up, curled around her. This fuckbuddy arrangement between them had strayed so far from the casual hookups they’d first agreed upon all those months ago, and when finally he was ready to admit it to himself, he was already too far gone.

“We can just cuddle,” he offered gruffly, something like relief settling into him. She wasn’t breaking things off. 

Uraraka considered it for a second, then nodded. “Outside?”

He pulled her up out of her seat and led her towards the tall glass windows, as if she didn’t know his home as well as her own. “Tch, you act like we don’t always end up there anyways,” he grumbled, savoring the feel of her hand in his as they crossed his apartment, if only for a few precious seconds.

“Doesn’t hurt to ask.” He could hear the cheekiness in her tone, the happier lilt of her voice, and he found himself smiling as he opened the door to a sprawling patio, lined with plants and a lounge bed wide enough for two people to sleep on.

Uraraka slipped past him, throwing herself into the cushions with a long, slow sigh, and wiggled around as she settled herself into the pillows. She was already pulling a blanket over her legs, yawning tiredly, when he shuffled over and climbed in next to her.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I love that you have an outdoor bed?” A quiet giggle escaped as she cuddled up to his side, pulling his arm around her shoulders and settling her head on his chest.

“Only every fuckin’ time, Cheeks,” Bakugou muttered, exhaling deeply as he scratched his fingers across the crown of her head. The way she leaned her head into his touch, humming warmly, had his stomach doing somersaults. “M’pretty sure you like it more than me at this point.”

“Falling asleep under the stars – what more can a girl ask for?” He huffed at her relaxed, teasing tone, reaching down to pinch her thigh warningly. “I guess the company isn’t so bad either.”

“What a glowing commendation,” he deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

“Mm, you know you love me,” she laughed, and he made a vague noise in response. He hoped she couldn’t feel how his heartbeat quickened at her words. 

As she slowly relaxed into him, Bakugou let his eyes wander up, his mind drifting as he stared up towards the sky. As a kid, he didn’t have many feelings about space, or the stars in general; he had always been so fixated on heroes that everything else fell short in comparison. He’d known, objectively, that it was pretty, but it was just one of those things that was always just… there. 

As he grew older, he started to appreciate the appeal. There was something compelling about the idea of a limitless expanse, mysterious and far-reaching and unexplored. It made him feel small and insignificant when everyone in his life expected him to be the complete opposite, and somehow, it felt like an escape. Under the blanket of a starry sky, he was just another person, just another body that would one day fade back into stardust, and he could drop all of his masks and just breathe.

He had wondered, months ago, if that was why he was so drawn to Uraraka. There was something about her that brought those same feelings out of him - not where he felt insignificant, but where he felt like he could be fallible and imperfect and human. He felt safe, letting her see the ugly parts he kept hidden from the world, and as she opened up to him, it felt like he had stumbled into something just as fascinating as the stars. 

With every laugh and sigh that fell from her lips, he felt like he was unravelling the mysteries of a universe that he’d once overlooked. With every touch and taste, he wanted to dive deeper – he wanted to look and learn and listen until he could trace memories across her skin and read secrets in her smile. With every kiss, his heart raced and skipped and burst out of his body, and the thought of letting her go became harder and harder with every passing day. 

He tried to imagine a life without Uraraka in it – without her bright laugh, without her teasing comments, without her bull-headed stubbornness. He tried to imagine her sitting under the night sky, stargazing with someone else, while Bakugou stared up at the stars alone, thinking about how he had let her slip away. 

The thought sent a stab of loneliness shooting through him, and his hand stopped as something deep in his chest ached.  

­­Uraraka felt the way he tensed under her, and she tilted her head to peer at him through soft lashes. He could see the question in her gaze from the corner of his eye, but he pretended not to notice as she asked, softly, “… What are you thinking about?”

You.

“S’nothing,” he said quietly. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, trying and failing to hold in a heavy sigh.

“Bakugou.” She frowned, sitting up so she could look at him more directly. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” He hated it when she did this – she knew that if she stared him down long enough, he’d cave in. He always did, eventually. 

It took him a moment to gather his courage, but he reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the dark sky. When he met her gaze, his breath hitched – there was an unfamiliar tenderness in her eyes, something that went beyond the empathy and care she gave away so freely to everyone she met. She watched him, open and sincere, and Bakugou suddenly felt like she could see right through him.

Like she knew.

Maybe… maybe…

Slowly – carefully – he reached towards her, telegraphing his movements to give her a chance to back away. He felt like he couldn’t breathe as his fingers brushed up the side of her face, catching on the long locks of her hair and sweeping them back so he could cradle her cheek in his palm. All the while, Uraraka observed him with that same patient, gentle gaze, waiting.

“Do you –” His voice sounded hoarse, quiet and raw and exposed, and he felt as if he had been cut open and bared for the world to see. “Do you ever want more?”

“More?”

“Out of this.” Bakugou swallowed, forcing himself to keep his eyes on her as he gently stroked the apple of her cheek with his thumb. Fear seeped between the cracks in his lungs, making it hard to breathe. “Us.”

His heart was a word away from flying out of his throat, and distantly, he wondered why he was doing this to himself. He felt weak and adrift, skin crawling in anticipation and doubt and panic as the seconds ticked by, and he hated having feelings because going through this bullshit was literally the worst thing in the world.

“Oh,” she breathed, eyes widening a little. She looked a little stunned, and he could feel the muscles and bones working beneath the skin of his palm as she opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to find the right words. His heart stopped when Uraraka’s expression shifted slightly, her features softening. “Do you?”

Her face shone down at him, and the expression on her face was something Bakugou couldn’t name. The mix of hesitation and fear and hope, combined with the vulnerability in her eyes, made his breath catch. 

“Only all the fuckin’ time,” he admitted quietly, and she inhaled sharply. 

“Please tell me you really mean that,” she whispered, a plea and a prayer rolled into one. 

At that, the world suddenly realigned itself, and Bakugou felt like he could fucking fly.

“Do you seriously think I’d buy a lounge bed for you if I didn’t?” A smile crept up when she reached up to take his hand, drawing it down to her mouth so she could press her lips to his scarred, calloused palm. 

“No, you wouldn’t.” Uraraka giggled, the grin on her face stretching wide and real and true, and she laced their hands together before leaning down to kiss him sweetly. Their tangled hands landed next to his head as he leaned up into her, savoring the languid brush of her tongue against his and the taste of green tea lingering beneath it all.

When she pulled back, her hair fell in a curtain around their faces, blocking out the rest of the world so that all he could see was her. Bakugou reached up to curl his other hand around her head and cradle her neck, fingers playing with the baby hairs at her nape, and Uraraka sighed, soft and slow.

“I do want more,” she whispered. The confession sat heavy in the space between them, and he brought his forehead to meet hers. “I’ve wanted more for a while.”

Bakugou let out a slow, shuddering sigh, and murmured, “Good.”

His heart was pounding so hard that it felt like it would explode from his chest at any moment, but despite all the adrenaline pumping through his body, he had never felt more content to stay like this. 

Lying here, hidden from the rest of the world, he looked up and saw the universe in her eyes. 

He didn’t need, or want, anything else.

#kacchako #kacchakoweek2020 #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bakuraka #by nebbia #bnha #fanfiction #stargazing #future fic

[dallanebbia]

betsubara

title: betsubara fandom: bnha pariring: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 3.9k (including text in posts) warnings: none synopsis: in which the u.a. test kitchen tries its hand at the whole youtube thing, and the internet collectively ships kacchako. bon appetit test kitchen au + socmed au notes: written for day 3 of kacchako week 2020, with the prompt ‘desserts & sweets.’ i know that BA has its share of problems, but i really wanted to write this after stumbling across ba test kitchen fanfics on ao3 and some social media aus on twitter… i have so much respect for people who make smau fics, i don’t know how you do it. ochako here is a bizarre mix of brad leone, solha el-waylly, liziqi and emmymadeinjapan, and bakguou…. is bakugou :’) ao3: [link]

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

別腹 | betsubara (n.) – Japanese, second stomach for dessert

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

Susan Anderson @susan.anderson – Jun 29, 2XXX My grandchildren said I would enjoy watching the UA test kitchen youtube channel, but I don’t know where to start. Can someone please give me some suggestions? Why do they change chefs in every video? 62 🗨️   133 ⭮   869k ♡

...

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Replying to @susan.anderson Hi Susan! I’m the kitchen manager for @ua_testkitchen, and I’d be happy to help! We have playlists for each of our web series on our YouTube channel, but I’ll do my best to explain each series below. 23 🗨️   241 ⭮   3.2k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Hot Takes – If you don’t mind some occasional foul language, this is a very popular series! Chef @bakugoukatsuki demonstrates techniques on how to make Japanese staples, from omurice to hand cut soba. It’s extremely educational! 123 🗨️   213 ⭮   3.5k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Bon Appetit – This series is all about French food, with Japanese twist! Chef @foreversparkling breaks down intimidating recipes like souffles, gougeres, and quiches for the amateur cook to try at home! 89 🗨️   165 ⭮   2.8k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Farm to Table – If you’re interested in where your food comes from, this is a great choice! Chef @u_ochako shows viewers what it takes to grow and cultivate ingredients. She also delves into the science behind making things like kombucha, natto, and beer! 155 🗨️   188 ⭮   3.9k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX From Scratch – This is our only series with two hosts! We ask our chefs @shouto and @yaomomo to tackle the challenge of recreating popular junk food and snack items entirely from scratch. These can be anything, from your favorite candy to foreign staples like Twinkies! 102 🗨️   288 ⭮   2.7k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX 10 Chefs – This series asks ten of our @ua_testkitchen chefs to undergo a series of culinary challenges of varying difficulties. These can range from cutting a durian to cooking a live lobster! 48 🗨️   85 ⭮   1.4k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX The Great U.A. Bake Off – These are special videos that showcase U.A.’s biannual dessert competition! We invite renowned chef and television star @AllMight to join as our host and judge. Our resident pastry chef @satousugarman has held the title for the past four years! 99 🗨️   174 ⭮   2.1k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX We also film various instructional videos, which are not part of any particular series. These can be recipes or in-depth guides to various kitchen tools and appliances. Hopefully these give you a good place to start, and feel free to contact me if you have any other questions! 21 🗨️   98 ⭮   1.1k ♡

...

↳ Susan Anderson @susan.anderson – Jul 01, 2XXX Thank you, Mr. Midoriya. I started watching Farm to Table, and I’m enjoying it a lot. I do have a question – I’m reading the comments, and there’s a cooking term I’m not familiar with. What is a “kacchako?” Is it a cooking appliance? 721 🗨️   2.1k ⭮   8.9k ♡

...

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jul 02, 2XXX Replying to @susan.anderson … Um. 202 🗨️   4.3k ⭮   10.4k ♡

↳ jfc they’re actually clueless @hitoshinsou – Jul 02, 2XXX Replying to @susan.anderson and @dekiru yeah @dekiru, what is a kacchako? 180 🗨️   961 ⭮   2.9k ♡

… 331 more replies

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

“Hey guys!” Uraraka waved cheerfully at the camera. “My name is Uraraka Ochako, and welcome back to Farm to Table, a show where we explore where our food comes from!” 

“For today’s episode, we’re going to be doing something a liiittle different.” On the counter was a pile of misshapen brown lumps, mottled with different black and brown spots. “On our cacao episode, a lot of you were a little… shall we say, disappointed with me, when I didn’t make chocolate out of a cacao pod.”

Uraraka’s smile turned icy, as a screenshot popped up on screen. She held up a little slip of paper from her hand and cleared her voice.

“ ‘Making chocolate isn’t easy,’ ” she read, widening her eyes for emphasis. “ ‘This girl has no idea what she’s talking about.’ ”

The dark, saccharine expression on her face never faltered as she ripped up the paper into tiny pieces, throwing bits over her shoulder.

“Now, I’m here to show you that actually, yes – making chocolate can be easy!” The hard smile was replaced by a warm grin. “My friends at Tokyo Cacao sent me some pods to work with, and lucky for us, they’re ripe and ready to go!” 

She beamed, picking up a pod and showing it off to the camera. “I’ll show you guys how to turn these bad boys into chocolate - and after that, I’m gonna share one of my favorite chocolate recipes with you!” 

Uraraka then grinned mischievously. “First things first – we gotta crack this little guy open.” Reaching under the countertop, she whipped out a gigantic chef’s knife. It was easily as long as Uraraka’s forearm, and the polished blade was engraved with two characters that clearly read, ‘Bakugou.’

A choking sound was heard off screen. 

“Holy shit Uraraka, you took it?!” A man popped into frame, gaping at the knife in Uraraka’s hand. “Dude, Bakugou’s been looking for that all morning - he’s going to kill you for real this time!” 

“Not if he doesn’t find out,” she said seriously, fixing the blonde man with a pointed look. “You’re not going to rat me out, are you, Kaminari?” 

“And get killed in his Baku-rage? No thanks.” He shivered, staring at the knife as if it was going to attack him. “At least you’ve got a chance of surviving.”

Uraraka laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re acting like he’s going to eat you or something.” 

“You don’t know about poor Mineta,” Kaminari looked grave as he closed his eyes in a moment of silence, before scurrying out of frame. He called out, “If anyone, especially Bakubro, asks – I was never here!”  

“O… kay?... ” Uraraka blinked at the camera for a few moments and then shook her head in amusement. “Anyways, back to the topic – opening the pod! The rind is pretty thick and slippery, so be careful where you’re cutting! The best way is to set the edge of the knife in one of the grooves and give it a good whack, like this - !” 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

Pro Chef Makes Omurice | Hot Takes | U.A. Test Kitchen 3,439,062 views ･ August 29, 2XXX

To quote our favorite foul-mouthed chef: “Even a F***ing idiot can make omurice.” 

Join Bakugou Katsuki in the U.A. Test Kitchen as he makes a Japanese comfort food staple, omurice. This isn’t your average, amateur omurice omelette video - Bakugou breaks down the special tricks and techniques he uses to achieve the perfect taste, shape and texture. His recipe uses buttery chicken, fried… 

[SHOW MORE]

10,237 comments

hvf26 – 3 hours ago Japanese gordon ramsey 👍 2.7K   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 25 replies

TipTop – 2 hours ago new drinking game: take a shot every time you hear “fuck” EDIT: 13 shots in and 18 minutes left, i give up 👍 8.6K   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 93 replies

shroomaster3110 – 9 hours ago bakugou: “even a fucking idiot can make omurice” also bakugou: “veal stock, red wine, honey, tomato paste, reduce for 3 days” me: instant ramen it is 👍 749   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 8 replies

obsssd1992 – 6 hours ago hOoly fuck the sound uraraka made when she tasted it 👍 9.4K   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 155 replies

vulcanus – 3 hours ago 7:33 cracking two eggs at the same time with one hand he really be flexing on us huh 👍 233K   👎   REPLY

periperi – 10 hours ago 22:18 is it just me or does bakugou look like he’s blushing??? like, his ears are so so red 👍 5.1K   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 84 replies

dinovino44 – 7 hours ago “just fucking flip it” I blinked and that shit literally went from goo to an omelet HOW 👍 144   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 3 replies

Angela B – 8 hours ago I would love to try this but i dont want to waste 17 dozen eggs trying to make it properly 👍 3.7K   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 29 replies

─── ･ ｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

“Oh fuck, that’s good,” Bakugou groaned, mouth full as he chewed. The mango-coconut tart in front of him was dotted with swirls of candied orange peel as a garnish, but it did nothing to hide the fact that the entire thing was dusted with a liberal coating of violent red chili powder.

At his side, Uraraka beamed, sniffling a little from the pervasive scent of spice in the air. “I added some lime too, just to break up the richness – it’s not too sweet?”

“S’fucking perfect.” Bakugou scarfed down the last bite of the piece in his hand. He let out another long moan, the sound of it deep and guttural, and Uraraka’s eyes widened as she stared, her cheeks turning red. “Screw it, I’m eating this for lunch.”

“Eh?” Uraraka blinked, snapping out of her daze just as the tray was snatched from her workbench. “Wait, wait – Bakugou! Give it back, I haven’t even tasted it yet!”

“Pft, like you wouldn’t down a carton of milk after one bite,” he scoffed, holding the tart above his head and trying to fend off Uraraka with his free hand as she pulled at his arm. “Fucking get off, Uraraka, I – !”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Aug 17, 2XXX alright since some of y’all are fucking BLIND here’s a list of every bakugou x uraraka moment on the u.a. test kitchen youtube channel (a thread) 184 🗨️   5.3k ⭮   12.6k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Aug 17, 2XXX [01] the great u.a. Baking show, cheesecake: during taste tests bakugou hated every single person’s cheesecake EXCEPT uraraka’s peach and plum one. He said it was acceptable BUT THEN HE GOES BACK FOR ANOTHER PIECE 2 🗨️   229 ⭮   10.4k ♡

…

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Oct 28, 2XXX [33] farm to table, jicama/watermelon: bakugou says there isn’t enough heat in the dipping sauce during taste tests, uraraka then pulls out the extra spicy version she made just for him and bakugou looks flabbergasted when he tries it and then HE TAKES THE SAUCE HOME 10 🗨️   121 ⭮   2.4k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Nov 01, 2XXX [34] from scratch, shrimp chips: at 14:53 you can see bakugou and uraraka in the background working on something together and when aoyama comes in waving around a whisk like a madman bakugou PUTS HIS ARM AROUND HER WAIST AND PULLS HER OUT OF THE WAY 15 🗨️   146 ⭮   2k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Nov 01, 2XXX [35] from scratch, shrimp chips: when uraraka’s taste testing the final versions, she tells bakugou to come and try them. Bakugou grabs the chip she’s eating out of her hand and takes a bite AND THEN STUFFS IT BACK IN HER MOUTH BEFORE WALKING AWAY 29 🗨️   132 ⭮   2.4k ♡

…

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jan 11, 2XXX [69] hot takes, udon: bakugou says he’s only doing this video because someone said he had to, and uraraka mouths at the camera “he can’t say no to me” and bakugou sees her doing it but just rolls his eyes HE DOESN’T DENY IT 34 🗨️   204 ⭮   1.8k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jan 11, 2XXX [70] hot takes, udon: bakugou’s testing the dough consistency and yells at uraraka to come over so he can compare it TO HER CHEEKS and the man no cap says “not soft enough, it needs more pounding” and the blush on her face AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 119 🗨️   451 ⭮   3.6k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jan 24, 2XXX [71] the great u.a. bake off, pavlovas: honestly just take this entire episode as proof you can FEEL the tension through the screen my god. the way they’re play-fighting/flirting throughout the episode jesus fucking christ the flavor is immaculate 85 🗨️   154 ⭮   2.1k ♡

…

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Mar 01, 2XXX [82] bon appetit, coq au vin: aoyama asks uraraka for help and bakugou literally spends the entire video glaring at aoyama from the background and ochako mouths “I’m almost done katsuki” at 15:43 SHE USES HIS FIRST NAME 26 🗨️   98 ⭮   1.9k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Mar 09, 2XXX [83] hot takes, takoyaki: uraraka asks bakugou to taste test a smoothie for her and he goes, “the one you made yesterday was better” but later he says something about hating Mondays WHICH MEANS HE AND URARAKA WERE TOGETHER OVER THE WEEKEND 37 🗨️   159 ⭮   2k ♡

… 13 more replies

↳ teatime @kabedondon – 6h Replying to @retrograade the detail in this thread is scary but even more concerning is the fact that you’ve somehow managed to convince me, at the very minimum, that they’re fucking 13 🗨️   1.1k ⭮   4k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – 4h Replying to @kabedondon welcome to the club, hope you enjoy your stay 21 🗨️   59 ⭮   573 ♡

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

Todoroki stared down at the gooey, green-streaked mess of chocolate in front of him mournfully. At his side, Yaoyorozu looked equally despondent, poking at the dull sheen of dark chocolate covering the biscuit in her hand. 

“Should we…?” Todoroki glanced over hesitantly, and Yaoyorozu bit her lip. 

“I was really hoping we’d get it this time.” She sighed heavily, before turning around. The camera zoomed out, the frame widening to show a few people milling around in the background. “Uraraka! Do you have a moment?” 

A chirpy voice replied, “Sure!” Todoroki visibly sighed in relief, quickly dumping his mixing bowl into the sink of dirty dishes as Uraraka came into the shot. 

“Huh, that’s definitely not right…” The brunette poked Yaoyorozu’s chocolate mixture with a frown. “What temperature did you heat this to?” 

“45 degrees?” Uraraka hummed, scooping up a bit of the mixture and dumping it into her hand. She rubbed at it, frowning. “What did you use as your seeded chocolate?” 

Todoroki slid the half-empty bag of chocolate chips across the counter, and Uraraka dumped a pile of them out. Little disks spilled across the marble, and she tested one piece between her clean fingers. “Uh, you know that you’re supposed to use tempered chocolate to seed, right?” 

Todoroki opened his mouth, paused, then closed it abruptly. Yaoyorozu buried her face in her hands and audibly groaned.

“Hey, the good news is that you can totally reuse this!” Uraraka tried to smile encouragingly. “Did the matcha chocolate come out weird too, or –?”

“Oi, what the fuck is this?” The camera panned to the side, where Bakugou was holding up Todoroki’s abandoned mixing bowl in a fist, features twisted into a grimace. “Did all those e-cigs fry your brain, Half-and-half? Who the fuck doesn’t sift matcha before –” 

“Hey, lay off of him, Bakugou.” Uraraka stomped over and snatched the bowl away. “Tempering is hard! And you know white chocolate is tricky.” 

“Tch, please.” He scoffed. “What kind of idiot can’t temper chocolate?” 

Uraraka’s eyes flashed, and she planted her arms on her waist. “Have you ever tempered chocolate before?” 

“What kind of dumbass question is that?” Bakugou growled. “Course I have, I didn’t live under a fucking rock like these two morons.” 

Yaoyorozu bristled indignantly, but Uraraka held up her hand. Todoroki just looked tired, and muttered under his breath, “Here we go again…”

“Then you wouldn’t mind giving us a demonstration, would you?” Bakugou looked at her sweet, smiling face suspiciously. “Or are you too chicken to prove it?”

Red eyes flashed dangerously. “... the fuck did you just say?”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The video cut to a shot of lumpy, melted white goo, before zooming out to show Bakugou’s scowl. “What the fuck is wrong with this shitty chocolate?” He kept stirring, even more vigorously this time, and looked down at the mixture as if he was trying to set it on fire with his glare.

Todoroki and Yaoyorozu were tucked a little ways away, snickering quietly as they watched from a safe distance away. Across from Bakugou, leaning casually against the counter, Uraraka smiled gleefully.

“Hur-dur, ‘what kind of idiot can’t temper chocolate?’ ” she mimicked, her voice lowered in an approximation of the blonde’s low growl. Uraraka laughed, and then ducked as a chocolate-covered spatula sailed over her head.

“FUCK OFF, ROUND FACE!” 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

smolbean678 reblogged kryssalys ochaakou:

reasons you should stan uraraka ochako, u.a.’s farming goddess and resident bakugou whisperer:

- has probably saved about half of the “from scratch” episodes by virtue of being the only person in the entire u.a. test kitchen who can consistently temper chocolate

- speaking of chocolate, this woman pulled the hardest flex by making her own chocolate from a raw cacao pod, and then proceeded to make chocolate chicken mole with it just to prove to the haters that she could 

- is the acting president of the musutafu ninniclub, a japanese club for lovers of garlic. she also openly admits to sleeping with a ninnikyun plushie, aka the club mascot which is apparently a giant garlic clove (seriously, you can’t make this shit up guys)

- vocal advocate of Feeding Japan, a hunger relief organization that works to combat food insecurity, and is frequently seen volunteering at food banks and soup kitchens (1) (2) (3) (4)

- a lot of the ingredients she features in the “farm to table” series come from her parent’s farm! (pics) she grew up working at her parents’ stall at her hometown farmer’s market and promotes buying locally to support regional farms and businesses.

- this masterpiece of a tweet: “I love food and I love to eat. If someone wants to shame me for my body then they can go fuck themselves.”

- creates recipes that not only taste good but are also healthy, quick, easy and beginner friendly – yes, I’m looking at you, mr. bakugou “just fucking flip it and reduce for 3 days” katsuki – see the archive of her recipes here (x)

- has a tiktok dedicated entirely to trolling todoroki’s reactions with weird flavors of soba, these are my favorites (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7)

- she’s a self-taught chef who started as a dishwasher and worked up to being the sous chef at ryuko tatsuma’s restaurant dragoon before coming to the u.a. test kitchen and was regularly praised by food critics (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

- has single-handedly saved u.a. millions of yen from that one time she stopped bakugou from ‘accidentally’ exploding an air fryer

- speaks fluent baku-rage, not to mention their chemistry is off the charts hoO BOY the slow burn is fucking real y’all

alright there’s so much more stuff but I fucking hate formatting links, so watch farm to table and follow uraraka on social media (twitter / instagram / tiktok) because this queen deserves our love. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

hoooooot-hoot:

[link] to the twitter thread for my fellow kacchako shippers, i gotchu

54,230 notes #ua test kitchen #kacchako #stan uraraka #bakugou better worship our queen or im gonna throw hands

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

“Ugh.” Uraraka glared down at the sad, deflated lumps sitting in the middle of her ramekins. “Where is Aoyama when you need him?” 

“That looks pathetic,” a blunt voice said, and Uraraka sighed as Bakugou came into the camera frame, leaning over the counter to peer into one cup with a skeptical look. “What the hell are you making?” 

“Well, it’s supposed to be a pistachio-strawberry souffle.” She huffed, rubbing at her neck in frustration. “I can’t figure out how to get the nuts to distribute evenly… and it’s just not rising? I don’t get it – I remade my pastry cream like, three times, I know it’s fine, and I buttered my molds but it just…”

“You try freezing the molds after you butter them?” A frown came over Uraraka’s face as she shook her head. Bakugou grabbed one of the little cups, prodding the contents with a finger, and made a face. “Keeps it from contaminating your mixture and fucking up the rise.”

“When I make them at home, they’re usually fine at room temp,” she said dejectedly. “I don’t know why I can’t get it right today.” 

The camera zoomed in a little, focusing on Bakugou’s expression as he glanced towards Uraraka. He looked a little concerned, and after a beat of silence, he came around the counter to stand beside her.

“Oi, don’t get all mopey on me, Cheeks.” He nudged her shoulder lightly, settling a hand across the back of Uraraka’s neck. “You good?” 

She sighed heavily, leaning a little into his hand. “Yeah, yeah, I just… I don’t know. My brain isn’t working right now.” 

“Tch.” Bakugou looked over the mess of bowls spread across the counter, eyes settling on the deflated looking egg-whites on one side. “Look – I’ll help ya out, just this once. Don’t quit on me now, yeah?

She blinked, looking up at him with furrowed brows. “But I thought… don’t you have that thing, with –”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. This is more important,” he said, shrugging off his leather jacket and rolling up his sleeves. Uraraka just looked back at him in confusion. 

“But…” She bit her lip hesitantly. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” Bakugou smirked back at her as he tied on his apron. “I got you, Cheeks.” 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

[Video: Todoroki, frozen in place with blank eyes and noodles falling out of his mouth as someone shakes his unresponsive body]

u_ochako: i… may have made chocolate flavored soba. PLEASE DON’T CRY TODOROKI #imsorry ♡ 137.4K   🗨️ 3251 

trololoki: holy shit he actually looks like he’s about to cry View replies (157) ⯆ 

augusttine: can we all agree that what makes this 10x funnier is bakugou’s hyena cackling in the background View replies (209) ⯆ 

u_24: this is soba-sphemous View replies (54) ⯆ 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

Uraraka rubbed her eyes, blinking as she gaped.

“You…” She looked up at him, chin trembling. “Did you really…?”

“Tch.” Bakugou huffed, trying to hide a smile. “What, your eyes don’t work now, Cheeks?” he teased. 

“I just - ” Uraraka pinched herself, yelping at the pain, before a huge, toothy smile broke out across her face. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you actually did it.” 

“You did get on your knees and beg, so…” He shrugged, snickering as Uraraka approached the counter reverently, her face glowing in sheer joy. “Ten kinds of mochi, as fuckin’ promised.”

She turned to him pleadingly. “Can I…?” 

“I already took the photos.” He nodded at the spread, a rainbow of different colors delicately arranged with a pot of tea, ready to be eaten. “Go for it, babygirl.”

Uraraka already had a daifuku mochi halfway to her mouth, lips open as she got ready to take a bite, when an unfamiliar voice cut into the video. 

“Wait a second.” Both of them paused to look at the camera in confusion. “Did he just call you babygirl?” 

There was a beat of silence, before Uraraka’s face exploded into a bright red blush. Next to her, Bakugou quietly muttered, “Fuck.”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

[Photo: an image featuring white sheets and pillows, a woman’s bare upper back, and messy brown hair with a woman’s face half-buried in a pillow]

Liked by dekiru, redkiri, and 541,803 others bakugoukatsuki: delicious u_ochako: UM bakugoukatsuki: @u_ochako did i lie though shouto: thank god fucking finally View all 6,248 comments

3 HOURS AGO

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jun 04, 2XXX RT @marsali: I. FUCKING. CALLED. IT. 

THIS IS WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF @marsali – 21m @retrograade THE SHIP HAS SAILED I REPEAT THE SHIP HAS SAILED #kacchako [media attached]

42 🗨️   3.8k ⭮   8.7k ♡

#kacchako #kacchakoweek2020 #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bakuraka #by nebbia #bnha #fanfiction #ba test kitchen au #socmed au #kacchako smau

[dallanebbia]

aeipathy

fandom: bnha pariring: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 8.4k warnings: nsfw, loss of virginity, oral sex, edging, orgasm delay/denial, praise kink, cockwarming, penetrative sex, creampie synopsis: prince katsuki is gifted a night with a courtesan as a birthday present. virgin!katsuki + courtesan!ochako notes: written for day 2 of kacchako week 2020, with the prompt ‘royalty au.’ i had a lot of plans for this prompt, but I don’t think I can do them justice in time for the event, so here’s some virgin!katsuki experiencing the wonders of sex for the first time. also, this is set in some fantasy world where bakugou is the prince of some unnamed country, kirishima is a shapeshifting dragon, and ochako still has gravity magic but as of now it’s a secret.  ao3: [link]

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

aeipathy (n.) – English, enduring and consuming passion

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

As far as birthdays went, Katsuki thought that this year hadn’t been so bad. 

The tournaments had been passably entertaining, he’d dominated the competition in the combat melee, and the food served at his dinner feast was perfectly flavored to his preferred level of spice. Even the presents he’d received, gifts from nobles and peasants alike, had been somewhat tolerable. He’d made his preferences clear over the past few years, and he was sitting prettily on a stockpile of weapons, magical texts, and potion ingredients that he could explore at his leisure. 

His plans to retire early, however, were interrupted by one small, tiny little snag. 

“Repeat that one more time for me, Shitty Hair.”

Katsuki stared at his best friend, his eye twitching. He had to have heard wrong. There was no fucking way that Eijirou was dumb enough to actually –

“I mean, I felt really bad, y’know? I couldn’t really figure out what to get you before the festival started... but then I remembered the whole you-know-what thing.” Eijirou didn’t even miss a beat, his mouth stretched into a smile. “So, I called in a few favors and bought you a night with a tayuu!”  

Katsuki nodded blankly, and promptly decided that he was not in the mood to deal with this bullshit. He flexed his hands threateningly, sparks popping off of his skin as he growled, “You’re fucking dead.”

“Aw, c’mon, man!” Eijirou hollered cheerfully, dancing out of Katsuki’s reach and putting a table between them, just in case. The grin he flashed was all teeth, and in the firelight, Katsuki could see the tell-tale shimmer of scales manifesting over the redhead’s arms. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, y’know? Lots of people are virgins at twenty-one, it’s not a big deal!”

“Shut your goddamn mouth!” Katsuki roared, holding back the urge to vault across the wooden surface and pummel the idiot he called a best friend. “Why the fuck would you buy me a whore for my birthday, you dipshit?!”

“Okay, first of all – it’s not manly to call them whores, bro. They’re trying to make an honest living, same as… well, erm, normal people, at least.” Eijirou had the audacity to look at him disapprovingly, even when Katuski was this close to strangling him. “Second, the girl I picked is supposed to be, like, the best one! She’s totally your type, all round and soft with these big brown eyes, and cute pink spots on her cheeks – ”

Katsuki’s breath caught in his throat. 

“What’s her name?”

As the prince, he was familiar with most, if not all, of the people who frequented the royal court on any given day. Tayuu weren’t uncommon – in fact, they often provided the music and entertainment for festivals and feasts – but there was only one courtesan in the entire kingdom that matched Eijirou’s vague description.

The dragon shifter paused, blinking. “Erm, I think… Ura-something? I heard someone call her Chako, so I –”

“Ochako,” Katsuki said, his mouth running dry. “You bought me a night with Uraraka Ochako.”

His stomach lurched at the thought of her. They’d been playmates, once upon a time – he’d spent his youth running around the castle with servant children, and she had always stood out amongst the others, fierce and tiny and full of life. He had nursed a crush on her for years, before his lessons and his duties forced him to leave his childhood behind.

Katsuki had all but forgotten about her until she showed up at his nineteenth birthday feast on the arm of some no-name extra. He had spent the majority of the night sneaking glances at her, half in jealousy and half in fascination, before reminding himself that the last thing he needed was to get distracted by a woman.

“That’s the one.” Eijirou snapped his fingers, then peered at Katsuki’s stunned expression. “Hey, if you really aren’t interested, I can tell her –”

“NO!” Katsuki stilled, his mouth snapping shut as the redhead blinked at him in surprise. “I – fuck, I mean… she actually said yes?”

“Well, yeah? I mean, you are the prince.” Eijirou didn’t notice Katsuki’s grimace, squinting down at the floor as he scratched his head. “I did have to talk her into it though. She thought you didn’t like her much apparently.”

Katsuki bit back a growl at that. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her - it was the fact that if he even let himself look in her direction, his palms would go clammy and his heart would start racing and his tongue wouldn’t work properly. It was completely and utterly humiliating, and he was too goddamn old to let something as dumb as a crush – a former crush, because he did not like her – take his attention away from more important matters. 

In this case though... technically... she was a birthday gift. It would be rude of him to refuse. 

Like that’s ever stopped you before. 

He swallowed, nervousness crawling up his throat as he muttered, “… Whatever. I’ll fuckin’ do it.”

Eijirou’s head snapped up, eyes going wide. “Wait. Seriously?” 

Katsuki clenched his jaw, trying to force the heat emanating from his ears away with sheer will alone. “I already said I would, stop fuckin’ asking!”

Understanding dawned, and the surprise on the shapeshifter’s face slowly morphed into a tiny smirk. “Alright, well – I told her to swing by your rooms tonight, and the sun’s already gone down, soooo… she may be arriving, any minute now?”

Katsuki had to take another moment to process that. “What.” 

“I mean, it’s your birthday present!” Eijirou laughed sheepishly, but his mischievous grin spoke volumes. “It wouldn’t be right if you didn’t get it on your birthday, right?”

“…” Katsuki exhaled slowly, closing his eyes and clenching his hands – like clockwork, they were already getting sweaty, but at least it meant he could explode Eijirou’s face off.  “I am going to murder you. Slowly. And I’ll enjoy it.”

Eijirou laughed nervously, backing away towards the open balcony behind him, and Katsuki almost rolled his eyes. The idiot always used it as an escape route, especially whenever he did something dumb enough to really piss Katsuki off, so he’d have to make this quick –

As if on cue, a gentle knock sounded from behind him, and he froze in place, head half-turned towards the door. Eijirou, however, took the opportunity to charge head-first off the edge of the balcony, throwing a “have fun, bro!” over his shoulder before transforming into his dragon form in mid-air and flying off.

Katsuki grit his teeth, mentally promising himself to beat the living shit out of Eijirou during their next sparring session, but another soft knock stopped him in his tracks.

“Hello?” He stiffened at the hesitant, sweet voice, muffled by the thick wooden door. “… Your highness?”

“Keep your fuckin’ panties on, I’m coming!” he roared, casting a panicked glance across the room. The maids had swept through his bedchambers in the morning, so things were passably tidy – he hastily kicked a few askew chairs back into place before glancing at his reflection in the mirror.

He looked decent, considering that he’d come straight from the crowded main hall; his hair was a little messy, but he was wearing his usual outfit of his cape and pants with his torso left bare. For a moment, he wondered if he should change, fiddling with his necklaces so that they lay symmetrically along his collarbones, and –

What the hell was he doing?

He scowled, scrubbing his face and shaking his head roughly. Stomping over to the door, Katsuki yanked it open, only to be met by wide, chocolate-brown eyes.

Fuck. He cast a quick glance over her, swallowing as he took in the sight of the floaty, rose-colored silks draped over her tiny form. She looked like a fucking dream – like a present waiting to be unwrapped – and he could feel his palms almost dripping sweat as he stood there, gaping at her like some goddamn idiot.

“Erm.” Ochako shifted, offering him a bashful, tentative smile. “Your highness? May I come in?”

Katsuki flinched slightly, averting his eyes and stepping back. “…Whatever,” he mumbled, trying his best not to sniff her like a creep as she passed by him and entered the room. He could smell something earthy and herbal wafting from her hair – like warm tea and lemon and bergamot – and his hands twitched with the urge to pull her closer. He wanted to know if she tasted like that too.

He shut the door sharply, the skin on the back of his neck prickling in discomfort. When he glanced at Ochako, he saw her standing in the middle of the room, eyes greedily soaking in the floor to ceiling bookshelves lining one wall in awe. It made him a little angry as he realized that she looked entirely at ease – the heavy silence that fell between them made his stomach turn uncomfortably, while she looked right at home in the middle of his bedchambers.

Like she belonged there.

He shook his head, banishing the thought from his head with an inaudible growl. Kicking that crusty necromancer out of the kingdom a few months back had been easier than this. He was about to lose his virginity to his childhood-playmate-turned-courtesan – what the fuck was he supposed to say in this kind of situation?

What would Shitty Hair do? 

“… Y’want something to drink?”

Ochako started slightly, chuckling at being caught off-guard as she rubbed the back of her head. Something in his chest warmed at that – she used to do the same thing back when they were kids, and the familiarity helped settle his nerves a little.

“Some wine would be nice,” she admitted sheepishly, cheeks pink, and she gave him a shy grin. “… This is a little awkward, isn’t it?”

He snorted, going to the decanter in the corner and pouring out two generous portions. 

“A little? Fuckin’ understatement of the century.” Katsuki came forward to hand her a glass, and almost swallowed his tongue when he realized that he could see the outline of her body like this, silhouetted by the light of the fireplace. “S’been a while, Cheeks.”

They clinked their glasses together, and Ochako made a face at him. “I can’t believe you still remember that,” she said, shaking her head and sipping at the wine daintily. “It’s been… what, ten years?”

“Eleven,” Katsuki corrected, before taking a swig of his own to hide from the curious tilt of her head. “Some shit doesn’t change. Case in point…” He reached out, lightning quick, and pinched her cheek teasingly. 

He grinned, something fluttering below his breastbone at the peach-soft texture of her skin between his fingers. “…these. You’re still as round as hell.”

She scowled, batting his hand away. “And you’re still as rude as ever,” she grumbled, rubbing at her cheek. 

“Oi, watch it,” he snapped, and although there wasn’t any real heat behind his tone, he liked the way she pouted in response. It made her lips go all puffy and glossy and pink in a way that made something swoop low in his gut. “I’m still a fuckin’ prince.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true, your highness.” Ochako stuck her tongue out at him in response, and he smirked. She hadn’t lost a single bit of her spirit in the past years, and his heart did a pathetic flip in his chest.

“Shitty Hair didn’t mention that you had a smart mouth.” He threw back the rest of the wine, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It settled heavy in his gut, the tannic taste bolstering his nerves, and he smirked cockily, stepping closer until they were toe to toe. “I can’t wait to hear you scream my name.”

“Funny how you’re assuming that I’m the one who’s going to be screaming.” Something flashed in her eyes, a dare and a challenge rolled into one. “Do you even know how to pleasure a woman?”

His expression slipped into a scowl. She said it so tauntingly, so deliberately – it was painfully obvious that she was aware of his inexperience. His cheeks burned, the jab hitting deep, and he shot back unthinkingly, “ ‘Course I do.”

“So you know how to make me cum on your tongue?” She placed a hand over his left pectoral, directly over his heart, and he hoped that she couldn’t tell how quickly it was beating. “How to get me to beg for your cock, how to fuck me stupid to the point where I never want to leave your bed?” 

His mouth went dry as she spoke, and an impish look spread across her face as Ochako let her gaze flicker down to his chest knowingly. He felt like a child caught in a lie, shame and self-consciousness and embarrassment all swirling in the depths of his stomach, and he felt overexposed under the intensity of her eyes. 

Never one to bow out gracefully, Katsuki bristled as he swatted her hand away and spat out, “I thought you came here to get dicked down – I didn’t realize Shitty Hair paid you to lecture me too.” 

She paused, the playful expression on her face fading, and Ochako narrowed her eyes. She took a measured step back, putting some distance between them as her hand tightened on the stem of her wine glass. 

“I came here,” she said slowly, sounding very unimpressed, “because your best friend took pity on you for being a virgin, and very politely asked me to, and I quote, ‘help a bro out.’”

All of his confidence disappeared in an instant, leaving him waffling in mortification. “… I’m gonna kill him,” he muttered. 

Her words ate at his pride, a reminder of the real situation at hand. This wasn’t some reunion between old friends; it was a business transaction organized so that he could finally get his dick wet. It made his scowl deepen, his mood darkening, and Katsuki suddenly wanted to get the whole thing over with so he could go back to pretending like Ochako didn’t exist. 

“Fuckin’ whatever – let’s get this bullshit over with.”

She raised an eyebrow, watching him roughly toss the glass onto a nearby table and unclasp the cape hanging from his shoulders. “Well, if that’s how you want to go about it,” she muttered, and he didn’t miss her subtle eye roll as she took a larger gulp of her wine.

“What?” His sneer darkened when she didn’t reply, and he demanded, “Oi, don’t pull that passive-aggressive shit with me, Cheeks, just spit it out!”

Ochako pursed her lips, pausing for a second, before saying coolly, “It’s nothing.” She placed the glass down next to his with pointed consideration. “I just didn’t realize that you wanted something so… impersonal.”    

“I don’t have time for stupid games,” he shot back, clenching his hands into fists. “You get your money, I fuck you - done. We can move the fuck on with our lives.”

Something flickered in her face, too fast for him to catch, and she asked flatly, “Do you have any idea what actually goes into what I do?”

At her expression, a tiny thread of uncertainty settled uncomfortably in his spine. “It’s fucking.” He crossed his arms defensively. “Even I know that it isn’t that hard to spread your legs.”

“‘It isn’t that hard to spread your legs,’” she parroted in disbelief, and then let out a short, humorless laugh. “... maybe it’s a good thing you’re still a virgin.”

“Hah?” His eye twitched, and he demanded, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you probably would’ve scarred some poor soul for life.” Ochako looked at him with a pitying glint in her eyes, one that made him seethe a little. “You probably think sex is just about sticking your cock in, while they just lie there taking it.”

He felt his ears turn hot. Everything he knew about sex came from secondhand accounts – overheard discussions between his soldiers, or Eijirou’s fumbling escapades with serving girls and scullery maids. From their stories, it seemed pretty cut and dry. “What else is there to it?”

“… Typical,” she muttered, shaking her head, before looking up to meet Katsuki’s eyes. “Look, if that’s what you want – fine. Let’s just... do it then.”

Something in him withered as she averted her eyes, reaching up to pull her hair out of its updo. It almost sounded like she was disappointed, her body curling in on itself in a way that made his chest ache a little, and he felt an unfamiliar pang of regret sit heavy in his throat. 

At the same time, something about the way she said those words bothered him. It almost sounded like she wanted to say more – it almost sounded as if she was going to offer an alternative, and he couldn’t help the spark of curiosity that ignited in his chest. 

“Or what?” She stopped, looking up at him in surprise, and he shifted a little. His voice was gruff as he prodded, “You were gonna say something else, right?”

An inquisitive expression crossed her face, and he forced himself to keep quiet as she just looked at him. It felt almost vulnerable, letting her scrutinize him like this, but the tightness of his lungs eased when her expression softened, just a touch. 

“Or...” Ochako said carefully, “Or, I could show you why I’m very good at what I do.”

... Oh. 

The lump in his throat left him speechless as he stood there gaping at her like a dumbass. “...What, is your pussy that good?” he blurted out, and immediately winced at how asinine he sounded. His mouth snapped shut as his hands flexed nervously, and a small part of him hoped that she’d take it as the joke it was meant to be.  

To his relief, she offered him a tiny grin, and said cheekily, “Who says it’s just my pussy?” 

Ochako shrugged, a slow roll of the shoulder that let the silk there slip down, curving gently around her upper arm to reveal the straps of her undergarments and the soft swell of her cleavage. It took more effort to keep his eyes from falling to the newly bared skin than he wanted to admit, and as she stepped forward, anticipation slowly unfurled in his stomach. 

“So? What will it be?” She held his stare with easy, confident grace as she trailed a finger down his exposed torso, from sternum down to his belly. His dick, already half-hard, twitched in clear interest. 

He searched her eyes, maintaining his calm demeanor even as his heart threatened to burst out of his chest. His first instinct was to refuse – there was a promise written in the depths of her gaze, a guarantee of intimacy and passion that would probably stay with him forever, and that was where he hesitated.

Katsuki had a thing about firsts. They were milestones, special moments that he kept close to his chest – things like the first time he used magic and his first victory in battle, or his first kill and his first loss. Regardless of how tonight went, Ochako would be another first, impossible to forget and impossible to ignore with how often she appeared in court. She’d be written in his memory forever, and the more he could keep her at a distance, the easier it would be to see her hanging off the arm of another lucky bastard in the future.

That sent a twisting jolt of pain shooting through him, bone-deep and crawling under his skin, as a tiny, impulsive part of him whispered, would it really be so bad? 

Ochako licked her lips, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip, and the patient openness of her eyes made him swallow thickly. His head swam with images of her with different faceless men, looking at them with the same hopeful, gentle expression she was wearing now. 

Yes – it would be. 

“I –” His brain stuttered to a halt as a finger started drawing slow, steady circles around his nipple, close enough for the bud to almost instantly harden. For once, he regretted not putting on a shirt. He gulped, eyes fluttering at her touch, and shifted a little as his skin started to feel hot and tight. “… I –”

“I’d take care of you,” she murmured, her voice soft and warm, and he couldn’t move as she came just a little closer. She placed her other hand low on his abdomen, lightly tracing down the line of his hipbone, and his cock jumped, as if trying to meet her touch through the rough fabric.

“Stop that,” he growled, shuffling back a little, but Ochako only mirrored him by stepping closer. “O-oi –”

“Please?” His voice caught in his throat, mouth suddenly going dry, and he retreated back another step. Again, she followed him, this time coming close enough that he could feel her soft breath fanning across the bare skin of his chest.

“I don’t– shit, shit –!” He hissed when the hand on his hip slipped down, pressing steadily against his crotch. She ran the heel of her palm up and down the length of him, straining against his pants, and at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel her soft skin working over his length.

Ochako’s smile was almost reassuring as she stroked him, ever so slowly, but he could see the sharp, observant glint of her eyes shining in the firelight, cataloguing his reactions. His hips jerked, almost rutting into her touch, the hand on his chest curled around to the small of his back, helping him to arch into her just a little more with every slow rock as she whispered soft encouragements. 

“So good,” she hummed, and he wheezed a little. “You feel so good, your highness – that’s it, just like that –”

His head was swimming, hazy and cloudy as his eyes slipped shut. “Cheeks –”

He groaned loudly when she pulled her hand away, settling it on his hip to keep him from trying to rub himself against her. “I need an answer,” she chided softly, and he could feel himself already growing damp with sweat. “Tell me what you want.”

You.

He growled, yanking her in until she was pressed flush against him, forcing her hand away. Ochako squeaked at the sudden movement, instinctively trying to pull herself from his grip, but he quickly swooped in and slanted his mouth over hers.

The hand on his spine came up to clutch at his shoulder, and he plunged his fingers into her hair, twisting the strands in his grip to keep her still. He tried to use the kiss to reclaim some semblance of control, nipping at her bottom lip and licking into her mouth in a way that drew a soft, sensual moan from the depths of her throat.

Katsuki drew back, panting, and something smug roared to life at the glazed expression on her face. It didn’t last long though – her eyes came back into focus, but the flush on her cheeks lingered as she said breathlessly, “At least you know how to kiss a girl.”

“I’m a virgin, not a fuckin’ monk,” he grumbled, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. The intimacy of the gesture wasn’t lost on him as she relaxed against him. “Didn’t realize you were such a goddamn tease.” 

Ochako smiled a little at that. “Learned from the best,” she said matter-of-factly, and hearing that sobered him all over again. 

“... I can’t.” With a sigh, he slid his palms forward until he was cupping her face, stroking the soft skin of her cheeks. “I shouldn’t.”

She looked up at him, brows furrowing. “Can I ask why?” 

He should’ve come up with some bullshit reason; he should’ve lied – but he didn’t. “You’d ruin me, Cheeks,” he said dryly, and she looked like she didn’t know how to respond to that. “One time isn’t gonna be enough.”

“Well, you have to choose first,” she said, with a slight, confused smile. She didn’t understand what he was saying, but it was better that way. If she actually knew what was running through his head, she’d probably be running for the hills. 

Or maybe she was used to this – to men wanting more from her, to people craving more than she could give – and he was just being a gullible idiot. 

“I’ll make it good for you, your highness. I promise.”

“... right,” he said, exhaling roughly. The scent of citrus and tea filled his nose, and Ochako curled her hands around his wrists in a comforting gesture as she stroked the thin skin over his pulse. “Right.”

Fuck it. 

“Show me,” he mumbled, the words slurred into a low sound as he quietly braced himself. He knew he was going to regret this, but at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He exhaled slowly as she murmured an equally soft, “okay,” before pulling his arms down so she could place a soft kiss in each of his palms. 

“Sit down for me, will you?”

Reluctantly, Katsuki shuffled back until his knees hit the edge of his bed, gingerly lowering himself onto the mattress. His hands fisted in the sheets, leg bouncing as he watched Ochako carefully peel off layer after layer of sheer silk, slowly revealing an expanse of smooth skin that had his heart beating in double time. When she finally let the last piece of fabric fall away, Katsuki almost choked.

Her underwear was a complicated web of fabric and metal and ribbon, a mix of gold and dusky pink that wrapped sinfully around every curve and highlighted the paleness of her skin. Her breasts were almost spilling out of the widest band stretching across her chest, and the scrap of cloth that dipped between her thighs was held in place only by two tiny bows, perched delicately on each hip.

She was better than every fantasy he’d ever dreamed of.

Mesmerized, Katsuki watched as she glided forward, tracking her progress with rapidly shortening breaths. He felt like he was going to burst into flames when she straddled his legs, settling herself into his lap, and somehow, the smile on her face was sweet and shy and suggestive, all at once.

“I’ve thought about this, you know,” she whispered, voice pitched low as if she were telling him a secret. Rocking forward a little, she worked herself so that his hips were cradled snug between her thighs, the heat of her core pressing directly onto where his cock strained against his pants. He whimpered, and Ochako’s beatific smile contrasted directly against the gleam of hunger in her eyes. 

“You walk around half-bare, showing off for everyone to see…” Skimming across the width of his pectorals, she tugged lightly on a necklace, rubbing the beads between her fingertips. Her lips brushed right above the hollow of his collarbone as she sighed, “Maybe I should mark you up so you don’t forget about me.”

Katsuki swallowed thickly when she leaned in close, nosing at his fluttering pulse point. She sucked a bruise into the delicate skin of his throat, and he let out a ragged wheeze as he suddenly latched onto her hips, holding her still as he ground himself against her core a little desperately. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Ah, fuck,” he breathed, trying to chase the tight knot of tension quickly building in the base of his spine. A distant part of his brain told him that he was acting like a boy trying to get off for the first time, but he didn't care. He wanted – no, he needed to come, just to take the edge off, just a little more –

“Ah, ah, ah – can you keep your hands to yourself?” she asked, thighs flexing as she raised hips off of him, and he couldn’t help but let out a low moan of frustration. “Just this once, your highness – you can touch me as much as you’d like later.” 

He was so close, so damn close – and Katsuki didn’t know if there was going to be a later, because what if she only stayed until he came? – but he gritted his teeth and let his arms fall lax to his sides. He clenched his hands hard enough for his nails to bite into the skin of his palms, and the pain helped clear his head a little. 

“I thought you said you were gonna take care of me,” he rumbled, trying to hide how hard he was shaking. “You backin’ out on me, Cheeks?”

“Never,” she said softly, leaning forward to press a soft, almost loving kiss to his lips. He sighed into her mouth, matching her lazy, almost comforting pace, and when she drew back, Ochako cocked her head to the side, studying him with fathomless eyes. He shifted a little under the scrutiny, a shiver running through him as the seconds passed, and after giving him a wink she slid out of his lap, settling on her knees in front of him.

She tugged him forward, and the sight of her between his legs was enough to make Katsuki’s dick jolt. Slumping a little, she let her head rest on his thigh as her fingers came up to stroke the skin just above the edge of his pants.

She looked up at him in a way that nearly made him cum on the spot. “Good?”

“Y-yeah,” he croaked, and desperately tried to keep his head straight as all the blood in his body rushed straight towards his groin. His palms felt wet and clammy, and his face was hot with a violent flush that spread down and across his chest. “Yeah, m’good.”

Something devious flashed across her face, before that innocent, coy look returned. “You sure?”

“J-just get on with it, already!” he barked, cutting his gaze to the side as her hands quickly worked to undo his belts, before settling on the fly of his pants. The gentle weight of her touch, working at the buttons, was enough to make him grit his teeth, and he couldn’t stop himself from groaning when she reached down and wrapped her hand around his aching length.

“O-oh gods, fuck,” he choked, and looked back just in time to see Ochako pulling him out of his underwear, tucking the fabric below his balls.

“You have such a pretty cock, your highness,” she cooed, leaning forward to blow over the flared crown of his length. He was already dripping precome, the tightness twisting in his abdomen, and experience told him that he was about three seconds away from coming all over her face.

“I- Fuck, I can’t – I’m gonna – ” His head was spinning as Ochako pulled back, sitting back on her haunches and watching him with that damned smile of hers. His dick trembled, hard to the point of pain, and he felt like he wanted to explode.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” she said soothingly, rubbing at his knees. “Do you want me to use my mouth, or my hands?”

His eyes went glassy as his imagination took over, and he had to grit his teeth to regain some semblance of control over himself. “Mouth,” he croaked, and Ochako flashed him a delighted smile.

He watched in a daze as she slipped her thumb between her lips, keeping eye contact as she switched to her index finger, and hissed when she reached forward to encircle the base of his cock with wet, slick fingers.

“O-oi, I fuckin’ said – ”

“I heard you.” She flashed him a toothy smile, squeezing in a way that made him buck into her grip. “Trust me, I know what I’m doing.” 

She placed her forearm across his stomach, firmly pressing his pelvis to the bed as he fell back onto his elbows, and she winked at him again before leaning forward to wrap her soft lips around his cockhead.

His mind went blank. Every cell in his body focused on the warm, wet heat engulfing him, stars shooting across his vision and drawing broken gasps from his lips. Katsuki could only watch in stunned silence as she suckled at him gently, flicking her tongue over and under and around him – he threw his head back as he tried to think of something, anything, to keep him from blowing his load and embarrassing himself.

There was a loud pop as Ochako let his cock slide out, and he bit down hard as she blew gently on the head. He squirmed and jerked against her arm, straining as he tried to bury himself back into the warm heaven of her mouth, but she tutted softly, peering up at him with a raised brow.

“Fuck.” The word fell from his lips without thinking, his head swimming and his heart pounding, and the pressure of her wrapped around him made him want to cry. He looked down at her, trembling from exertion and need. “Fuck, shit – ”

Ochako looked up to meet his blurry gaze with doe-soft eyes, and her mouth curled up into a little smirk that shot straight to his groin. She sunk down onto him with a satisfied, muffled sigh, hollowing her cheeks as her head bobbed, and when she sucked just a little harder, it felt like someone had punched him square in the gut.

He was right there – he could feel his orgasm, he could practically taste it – but the tight ring of her fingers around the base of him forced it back in a way that sent an addictive current of pain and pleasure coursing through him. It made his entire body go taut, every muscle straining as he tried to fight Ochako’s surprisingly strong grip, both on his dick and on the arm holding him down, and the sweet suction of her mouth engulfing him was all he could focus on as he felt weak sparks start popping into his clenched fists.

“What do you want me to do, your highness?” She licked up the side of his shaft, tracing the bulging veins, before coming back up to catch the dribble of precome that spilled out of him. “Do you want to come?”

“Ye-es,” he whimpered, his voice cracking. He couldn’t take this much longer. “Cheeks, please, please – ”

“So good for me,” she cooed, and smoothed a finger over his balls in a way that had him choking. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you –”

Dimly, he registered her grip loosening, and his lightheadedness reached an entirely new dimension as Ochako plunged back down on him, tilting her head back and letting him hit the back of her throat with a long, languorous moan that reverberated right down to his bones.

Fuck, fuck it’s too much, too much toomuch –

The gentle hand petting at him slipped past his balls, fingertips searching and curling, and when they stroked firmly against the skin of his perineum, he saw white. 

The coiling tension that had been festering at the base of his spine exploded outward with so much force that he jackknifed off the bed as he came. It felt like he’d been dragged into a riptide by a crashing wave, his senses overwhelming him as his lungs constricted and his body buckled under the force of his orgasm. 

Katsuki found himself shaking as he came down from his high. He could hear his own heartbeat, the heaving breaths syncopated with the blood rushing in his ears. His throat felt scratchy and raw, as if he’d been screaming, and it took a moment for him to realize that he had screamed – he’d cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure and desperate relief, and he couldn’t even muster up the energy to scowl about it because of how fucking exhausted he felt.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, and at the sound of Ochako’s low giggle, he forced himself to open his eyes. What he saw almost made him wheeze.

At some point, he must have slipped out of her mouth, or she might have pulled back. Either way, he could only blink in dumb amazement at the sight of her face splattered with pearlescent streaks of his come, dripping from the corner of her mouth and her chin and her cheek. She didn’t even seem bothered, wiping at her face with those delicate, soft fingers until she gathered every drop and –

His brain short-circuited when she popped a cum-slick finger into her mouth, humming lowly. When her gaze flickered up to meet his eyes, he realized that she’d done it on purpose.

With a sweet smile, she leaned down to nuzzle the fine trail of hair leading down to his softening cock, pressing feather-light kisses to his skin as she traced the defined edges of his abs. Ochako worked her way up his torso, alternating between soft licks and gentle touches, and Katsuki almost shouted when she laved over his nipple with the flat of her tongue, the edge of her teeth just barely scraping over the bud in a way that had him arching into her mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” he choked, distantly aware that his palms were smoking, and she hummed, content and warm as she trailed up his collarbone, pressing a gentle kiss below his jaw before drawing back.

“You taste good,” she murmured, licking her lips, and he couldn’t help but think that she looked like a satisfied cat, sated and sleepy after drinking a warm saucer of milk. The image of her swallowing down his cum – of actually watching her swallow, while he came in her mouth –

“You’re killing me, Cheeks.” He fell back onto his bed with a heavy thump, staring up at the ceiling of his room. “Fuck.”

“How was that?” she asked, a hint of laughter in her voice.

“I think you sucked my soul out of my body,” he grumbled, and that earned him an actual laugh – not that weak giggly shit, but a real one, belly deep and bright and loud. The sound of it made his heart leap a little.

She appeared in his vision, leaning over him with a cheeky grin. “I barely touched you, your highness,” she hummed. “You didn’t even last long enough to fuck my throat.”  

His dick twitched a little in interest, and the jab should’ve pulled some kind of grumpy retort out of him… but instead, he blurted out, “Call me Katsuki.” 

Ochako raised her eyebrows, blinking at him, and after a heart-stopping few seconds, her expression softened. “…alright then,” she said with a smaller, faint smile. She ran a hand through his hair, smoothing the blonde spikes away from his forehead. “Let’s get you more comfortable, Katsuki.”

He didn’t protest as she slipped away to unlace and pull off his boots, then shucking his pants and underwear down his legs. His arm warmers and necklaces were tugged off after, and she coaxed him up his bed so that he was leaning against the headboard, back supported by a pile of pillows with his legs splayed out in front of him.

Katsuki watched dazedly as Ochako carefully undid all the bows and straps of her underwear – could it even be called that, he wondered – and gingerly stepped out of them, leaving the mess of ribbon in a pile on the floor. He used the opportunity to admire her, bathed in the warm firelight, and he was half hard by the time she bent over and showed him her cunt, shiny and wet and dripping.

The coy glance told him it was meant to tease him a little, but as she crawled up into his lap, she licked a stripe up her palm and reached down to take his cock in her hand instead. “What are you –?”

“Just gonna keep you nice and warm,” she murmured reassuringly. Ochako pumped him a few times, her saliva easing the glide of her hand, before positioning herself right above him and sinking down with a muffled whimper.

Katsuki had thought that her mouth felt good, but it was nothing compared to the warm, silken sheath of her cunt. She was wet, so wet that he’d slipped in easily despite the fact that he was only mostly hard, and he flexed his hips almost on instinct, trying to bury himself further into her pussy. 

“Mmm.” She hummed, eyelashes fluttering, and arched a little so that Katsuki could slide in a little deeper, pulling a ragged gasp out of him. Draping her arms over his shoulders, she puckered her lips and waited for him to meet her in a languid, breathless kiss.

It was tentative and slow, unlike the one he’d planted on her earlier – a gentle inhale-exhale, lazy swipes of their tongues and the soft brush of their mouths. He melted into the pillows, banding his arms across her back and pulling her close, and Ochako nipped sharply at his lip, sucking at the plump flesh as he rocked up into her with a dizzy, quiet groan. 

Tiny hands scratched up the back of his scalp, digging into blonde spikes as she licked into him as if she were trying to devour him, a steady rhythm that matched each stroke through his hair. A weight felt like it was lifting from his shoulders as his mind left every worry and thought behind in favor of kissing the woman in his arms. With her on top of him like this, it felt like he was being consumed whole, his world narrowing to where all he could feel and see and taste was Ochako.

He drew back with a hiss when her walls clenched around him, clamping down on his cock so tightly that he couldn’t help but buck up a little. His stomach clenched at the reedy little whine that sounded from the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” he murmured thickly, his eyes falling shut to better savor into the sensation of her cunt fluttering around him as she rocked in his lap. Katsuki wanted to commit every detail of this moment into his memory – the lush weight of Ochako on top of him, the press of her lips trailing down his jaw, and the heady, thick scent of her arousal and her perfume mixing with the smoky-sweet smell of his sweat. 

She let out a quiet sound, low and pleading. “Can you –” She reached down, blindly following the swell of his bicep down to his elbow and tugging his arm free, catching his hand only to press it to her side. There was an edge to her voice that almost sounded needy as she mewled, “Help me – ”

He felt drunk as he let both hands fall to her hips, following the undulating movements while he pulled her down on him a little harder, a little more insistently. The slick, almost torturous friction of her walls sent blood rushing straight to his dick in a way that had him hardening fully while inside her, swelling to the point where Ochako’s breath hitched, and he gave an experimental thrust that sent both of them crying out. 

“H-hah!” Her sharp inhale was accompanied by a hand fisting in his hair, pulling his head back to bare his neck as she started to work herself over him a little faster. The deliberate, careful kisses that she’d given him earlier were forgotten in favor of the wet scrape of her teeth along the column on his throat, sucking and biting at him in a way that was sure to leave marks. 

Katsuki should’ve stopped her, but he found that he didn’t care. He wanted them so, so badly – if only so that he could look in the mirror tomorrow and remind himself that this wasn’t just a dream. 

“You feel so good like this,” she moaned, mouth next to his ear. “Oh gods, oh – Katsuki –”

The shallow rocking from before had switched to full-on thrusts now, Ochako fucking herself onto his cock with enough force to make her breasts bounce. He panted as he began rutting up into her, his sweat pooling in his collarbones and behind his knees and in the crook of his elbows, and he wanted to stay in her molten, velvet cunt forever. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he panted, his eyes hazy and heart stuttering with the sound of their skin slapping together, the obscene sound of his length sliding in and out of her body. “Cheeks – Ochako – ”

He could feel his orgasm lurking somewhere deep in his stomach, and he planted his feet on the bed so that he could put even more force behind every thrust. Ochako cried out again, pushing her chest flush against his as she dug her nails into his shoulders for leverage, and the growing itch burned under his skin like a forest fire, intent on consuming everything in its path. 

“Ochako –” Her name came out with a pleading whine, dragged out in a slurred sound. “Ochako, I – please –”

“I want your cum inside me,” she breathed, urgent and dazed, and his hips stuttered, losing their rhythm as he let out a desperate sob. “Do you want that Katsuki? Wanna fill me up? Want me to be yours?”

Mine, a part of him whispered, and he sunk his teeth into her shoulder as he felt himself tip over the edge, muffling the low, guttural groan that erupted from his chest. The pressure in his abdomen snapped like a bowstring pulled too tight, waves of pleasure washing over him in a sudden flood, and dimly, he could hear Ochako keening into his ear as he started to fill her pussy. 

His fingers dug hard into her hips, keeping her anchored on him as he emptied himself into her, but as he slumped into his pillows, eyes drooping, she squirmed a little against him. 

“Katsuki…” 

“Mm?” 

“Can you....” He cracked an eye open as she took his hand, guiding it to where they were still joined, and pressed it between her slick, warm thighs with a shudder. “M’close, just… a little...” 

Katsuki’s head was still spinning a little, but he let his gaze fall down in curiosity. He could feel something hard slide below his fingertips, hidden, and he curled the digits slightly to probe at the little nub. 

Ochako let out a quiet gasp, her core clenching on his softening cock, and he started to rub at it gently. “Harder,” she panted, her voice strained. The angle of his hand was a little awkward, especially when she tried to grind down into his touch, but when he switched to his thumb, she trembled. “Oh gods, yes, yes –”

He traced over her clit with tiny circles, gently increasing the pressure as Ochako twitched and jerked against his touch. Her body tensed as the pace of his thumb grew faster and faster, until she let out a long, drawn-out sigh, her voice stuttering as he stroked her through her orgasm. 

When she collapsed onto him with a satisfied huff, he let his hand fall away, throwing his arm over her waist. 

“Remind me to thank that idiot,” he muttered, savoring Ochako’s closeness as he supported the comforting weight of her body. His limbs felt heavy, his back sinking down into his bed as he mustered the energy to hug Ochako in his arms, and he sighed. He felt relaxed and boneless and calm, his head blissfully silent, and he could feel the lull of sleep luring him in. 

Ochako yawned against his neck, nuzzling into him, and murmured sleepily, “So, what’s the verdict?” 

Katuski huffed softly, feeling himself start to drift off. He craned his head down just far enough to brush a kiss over the crown of her head. 

“Worth it,” he said, his heartbeat slowing, and he let his eyes flutter shut as sleep finally overtook him.

Ochako sighed, running a hand through her hair as she closed the door to Katsuki’s chambers behind her. Leaning against the wood, she let her head fall back with a thump as she took a steadying breath. 

Spending the night had not been part of the plan. 

She was supposed to have checked in hours ago, leaving after Katsuki wore himself out, but she’d woken up at dawn wrapped in his arms, their legs tangled together and his head tucked in the crook of her shoulder. Ochako had extricated herself from him slowly, careful to make sure he didn’t wake, but she didn’t expect the rush of longing that struck her as she stood next to his bed, looking down at his sleeping form. 

He was a client, same as the rest of them. He’d fallen for the same tricks, submitting under her touch and latching onto the idea of possessing her, but something about it felt different. 

She wondered if it was because there was history there – it was a little odd, reconciling the boy from her memories with the man he’d become. The Katsuki she remembered was hot-tempered and rough and arrogant, traits that he still carried as the sole heir to the kingdom, but he had been oddly vulnerable last night, open and honest in a way she’d never seen in him before.

Despite the rocky start, he’d touched her with a hesitance she wasn’t used to, as if he couldn’t quite believe that she was really there with him. He had looked at her like he wanted to keep her, and thinking back on it, even now, made her chest tighten.

His voice echoed in her head.

You’d ruin me, Cheeks.

Ochako fought down the heavy, niggling feeling of guilt in her chest as she smoothed a hand over her gown, feeling the scrolls that had been carefully tucked beneath the layers of fabric. She didn’t want to do this to him, but she had no other choice. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, thinking back to the way he had stared up at her last night, eyes bright and reverent, and she clenched her hands as she started her trek to the aviary. 

Lord Shigaraki was waiting for an update, and she couldn’t afford to delay any longer.

#kacchako #kacchakoweek2020 #kacchakoweek2020nsfw #nsfw #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bakuraka #by nebbia #bnha #bnha smut #royalty au #smut

[dallanebbia]

desiderata

fandom: bnha pairing: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 9.0k warnings: nsfw, dubious consent, mild bondage, gagging, vaginal fingering, naked female/clothed male, non-consensual photography, deep-throating, praise kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, creampie synopsis: she wasn’t expecting a simple scouting mission to turn into this. villain!bakugou + pro hero!ochako notes: written for day 1 of kacchako week 2020, with the prompt ‘villain au.’ technically… this can’t be submitted for kchk week bc it’s non-con/dub-con, but i’m posting it anyways :) this is the first explicit smut fic i’ve ever written but i kind of threw a lot in here…. please mind the warnings!! if i missed any, please let me know and i can add them in. hope you enjoy~ ;) ao3: [link]

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

desiderata (n.) – Latin, things desired

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

“Status report, Uravity.”

Ochako bit back a pang of disappointment as she stepped over a pile of bricks, coming to a stop in the middle of an old warehouse.

“I went through every single building on the dock,” she said quietly, casting a glance across the cavernous space. Moonlight filtered through the high windows, illuminating the dust-covered interior with a silvery glow. “There’s no sign of any habitation. Nobody’s been here for years.”

“Unfortunate, but not entirely unsurprising.” Edgeshot’s voice crackled through the communicator in her ear. “I expected it, if I’m being honest.”

“Me too.” She wasn’t quite able to hide her frustrated huff. “Still, I just thought… maybe…”

“Our ongoing search hasn’t been much of a secret,” he mused. “Butsumu tends to give out false information when he has nothing useful to report. Unfortunately, he used the publicity of the case to his advantage.”

“Ugh.”

“Indeed.” Edgeshot sounded a little amused, but she could tell that he was just as disappointed. “Good work, regardless – you can turn your reports in tomorrow.”

“Understood, sir,” she said tiredly, and rubbed the back of her neck. “Thanks.”

“Get some rest,” her mentor said gently. Ochako hummed in acknowledgement, but Edgeshot cleared his throat a little, his tone almost consoling as he said, “There will be plenty more opportunities to catch Ground Zero, Uravity. Don’t lose hope.”

The communicator clicked, signaling that the link had been disconnected, and she sighed heavily. Another day, another dead end – this had been the first promising lead in weeks, and now they were back right where they started.  

Her mouth twisted a little as her thoughts drifted to the reason for this entire operation. Bakugou Katsuki, alias Ground Zero – he had exploded, literally, into the underground scene a few years back, and had quickly gained a reputation as a rather ruthless villain and elusive criminal. Ochako herself hadn’t come across him in person until six months ago, when she had tried to bury him alive with the exploded remains of a building for critically injuring one of her sidekicks.

Since that first encounter, they’d been running in circles around each other. Bakugou – she insisted on referring to him by his civilian name, if only to deny him the satisfaction of calling him by his villain name – never held back whenever they met, and it was a refreshing change of pace. He always made a point to demand a one on one fight with her, and although he fled the scene whenever backup arrived, she loved the opportunity to go all out. Their fights quickly gained a reputation for being a special kind of spectacle, but somewhere down the line, Bakugou had stopped trying to kill her.

Instead, he started flirting with her.  

And Ochako – to her shame – discovered that she didn’t mind it. At all.

She exhaled slowly, making her way towards the exit as her mind continued to wander. For a while, she’d been convinced that the suggestive comments were diversionary tactics to distract her. Ochako wasn’t sure when that started to change, but it was probably around the time when Bakugou managed to pin her during their most recent fight three weeks ago.

“You look so fuckin’ perfect like this, kitten.” The memory of him pinning her hands, and his growl in her ear, sent goosebumps crawling up her spine. “I just wanna break you.”

Ochako shook her head hastily, pushing down the tiny pulse of want that ran through her. It didn’t matter that he was insanely attractive, or that his voice made her want to melt into a puddle at his feet. The very last thing she needed was to get attached to someone as dangerous as Bakugou, even if he was prime spank bank material.

“Get it together, Ochako,” she muttered, and then promptly froze when she heard a low chuckle behind her.

She whirled around, eyes scanning the empty space. Aside from the areas where moonlight fell, the rest of the warehouse was shrouded in shadows and darkness, and for the first time that night, a wave of unease washed over her.

“Who’s there?!” Her voice echoed as she waited, but there was no response.

Awareness prickled between her shoulders, and she crept back into the warehouse warily. There was someone watching her, and the alarm bells in her head were getting progressively louder and louder the further she moved into the building.

Her instincts, developed over years of training, were her only saving grace as a dark shadow literally dropped down onto her. She leapt back, reacting just in time to prevent herself from being knocked over, and as a precaution, Ochako put a little more distance between her and her assailant.

“Hello, kitten,” a low, familiar voice purred, and she swallowed as the familiar feeling of anticipation started to twist in her abdomen. She didn’t stop to think about it as she took another measured step back, dropping into a defensive stance.

“Bakugou,” she said evenly. In the dim light filtering through the warehouse windows, she saw the man she’d been searching for step forward wearing a predatory, sly grin. 

He took a slow step forward, his gauntlets reflecting the moonlight off the metal, and her mouth went dry as she took in the sight of his large, bulky frame, perfectly filling out the dark clothing that covered him from head to toe. Short blonde hair fell messily across his forehead, perfectly framing the deep red of his eyes and the hint of stubble along his jaw, and she noted that he was sporting a new undercut. 

Ochako glanced up to see the dark shadows of the rafters, high above her head. He’d been waiting for her the entire time, revealing himself only after her final check in with Edgeshot… which meant that the informant tip was likely the bait for a trap.

… Why…?

“Heard you’ve been lookin’ for me,” he drawled, eyes gleaming. He spread his hands out cockily, a mocking invitation. “You here to pick up from where we left off?”

“Left off… ?!” Her eyes widened before she sputtered, a blush rising in her cheeks at the reminder of their last meeting. “I’m not – no! Why would I –?!”

“Tch, playing dumb doesn’t suit you, babygirl.” She couldn’t stop herself from starting a little at the pet name, and Bakugou’s lips curled into a knowing smirk. “And you weren’t exactly fighting back…”

“You caught me off guard, that’s all!” she snapped, glaring at the amused sound he made in response. “It won’t happen again!”

“Heh. Why so fuckin’ hostile?” The slow, lascivious drag of his eyes made her shiver a little, and he tilted his head thoughtfully. “Even after all the work I did to get you alone…”

So, it was a trap. Ochako narrowed her eyes. “Seems like an awful lot of effort just to kill me.”

He barked out a laugh. “Kill you? No,” he said lowly, and even in the dim light, she could see the way his eyes darkened in hunger. “Like I said, kitten – I wanna break you. And you’re going to enjoy every goddamn second of it.”

“Like hell I am,” she snapped, stubbornly ignoring the thread of heat that started to coil in her abdomen. She glowered, settling her weight on the balls of her feet with her legs tensed, ready to spring forward. He might have caught her off guard, but determination welled in her chest anyways – Ochako had never been one to back down from a fight. “I’m bringing you down, once and for all.”

A pleased, eager smile crossed his face. “Big words for a little girl – let’s see if you can back them up.” He licked his lips, and a bright light flashed as he exploded forward. “DIE!”

She dodged the signature right hook, ducking under the jab that followed, and pivoted on her foot to kick at his head. He blocked the blow with one of his gauntlets, using his other to fire up an explosion that he shoved point blank into her side. The force of it sent her crashing through a pile of wooden pallets, her helmet coming loose and rolling across the dirty floor.

“Shit,” she hissed, groaning a little as her body throbbed, and her ears caught the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps.

Growling, Ochako rolled towards a scattered pile of stone and brick, quickly dragging her hands through the heap, and dipped aside just in time to miss the knee coming towards her skull. She dropped the hailstorm of debris on him, using the opportunity to leap back again, and grimaced when he just blasted through her efforts with a single, violent explosion.  

“Gotta do better than that, sweetcheeks,” Bakugou laughed, smoothly launching himself back towards her. Ochako snarled, her hand reaching for a steel beam, and she swung it at him like a softball batter, successfully catching him in the stomach and knocking him off course.

He landed hard on his feet, staggering a little, and Ochako took the chance to fumble for her communicator. She knew that she could hold her own against him, but she couldn’t use her full power in such a limited space, not without destroying the entire warehouse. He wasn’t going all out yet, but with a handicap, he’d be able to overtake her sooner rather than later. She had to –

“Looking for this?” Ochako watched on in horror as Bakugou rolled a familiar device between his fingers. He chuckled, then incinerated it with a tiny explosion. “Nobody’s gonna interrupt us now.”

Ochako didn’t bother responding, letting out a battle cry as she dug her hands into the floor, ripping up chunks of steel and concrete and hurling them in the blonde’s direction. He blasted through them effortlessly, running towards her, and she flinched at the heat that burst above her as she ducked into his guard and tried to land a hand on him.

Something clamped around her wrist, and Ochako gasped as she staggered. Panic filled her – it felt like someone had suddenly dumped water over the blazing fire that was her quirk, and she reeled at how her powers suddenly felt like they were yanked out of her control.  

“Gotcha,” a rumbling voice murmured. She fought against his strong grasp, trying to regain her footing, but Bakugou grabbed her other flailing hand and slammed another cuff on her arm.

It had to be some version of quirk-suppression cuffs – there was no other explanation for it. She could faintly sense her quirk still, but it was like she was trapped underwater, blocked off from accessing her power.

Disoriented, she didn’t notice him forcing her arms together at her chest until the cuffs snapped together like magnets, locking her quirk away entirely. She would’ve buckled to the ground if it hadn’t been for Bakugou, and without access to her quirk or her hands, Ochako felt dread wash over her.

“Let me go!” she yelled, squirming as the blonde hauled her up and tossed her over his shoulder. Her arms were pinned under her stomach, and he clamped a strong forearm across her kicking legs to keep her still. She tried to lean forward and use her teeth to grab at one of the canisters tucked into his belt, but with how short she was – or rather, how large he was – there was no way she could reach anything. “I swear, I’ll –”

A sharp smack on her backside made her gasp, cutting her off. “I’ve been waiting for this for months, babygirl,” Bakugou drawled, and she felt goosebumps crawl up her neck as he purred out the nickname. A large hand smoothed up the back of her thigh, squeezing one of her ass cheeks roughly – he chuckled when she let out an indignant squeak. “I’m not letting you get away from me this time.”

“Get off!” She tried to buck in his hold, but cried out when the same hand sharply swatted at her again, this time harder than before.

“Stay still,” he chided, and suddenly she was being flipped back upright. She tried to use the opportunity to scramble away, but her arms were forcibly yanked above her head, the cuffs hooked over something, and she was left to dangle from a chain, the hard surface of a concrete wall at her back. She was just able to stand on her toes, but Ochako felt a twinge of fear settle in as she realized that she was stretched out prone, like an animal waiting to be slaughtered.

Bakugou stood a few steps away, head tilted to the side, and studied her with hooded red eyes as she tried to think of a plan. She tried to reach towards her quirk again, desperately straining, but there was no response – only silence. There was amusement written all over his face, most likely enjoying her growing panic as she strained fruitlessly against the cuffs, and he waited for her to slump in defeat before he spoke.

“What happened to beating me, kitten?” She narrowed her eyes, itching to slap the taunting smirk right off his face, but didn’t reply. “Where’d all that fight go?”

“Fuck you,” she spat, and he grinned.

“Ah, there she is,” he cooed, before coming forward and cupping her chin. She tried to kick at him, knee coming up to aim at his crotch, but she froze when he tightened his grip on her face warningly.

“Do that and you’ll regret it, Uravity.” She flinched at the growled words, hesitating before slowly letting her legs drop. Bakugou had always used pet names in lieu of her actual hero name, but the dark, foreboding tone of his voice made her stomach clench.

It should’ve made her afraid; it should’ve made her angry. Instead, all she felt was a low, deep ache between her thighs, and somewhere deep inside of her, a voice whispered, you know you want this.

“Better.” The tight grip on her face loosened, and he rubbed at her cheek in an odd gesture of comfort. “Oh, kitten. Didn’t anyone ever teach you how to behave like a good little girl?”

Ochako glared at him furiously, trying to jerk her face away. “Didn’t anyone teach you how to not be a creepy asshole?”

“Hah?” Crimson eyes darkened, some of the amusement leaving his expression as his grip tightened. “You’ve got a lot of guts, talking shit when you’re hanging here at my mercy…”

She bared her teeth at him, trying to keep her bravado despite the conflicting feelings of excitement and shame bubbling in her gut. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Still mouthing off, hm?” The pleasant rasp of his voice felt like it traced a path straight down her spine, and she shivered as he leaned in, nuzzling at a spot along her jaw. “Maybe I need to teach you a lesson.”

Ochako jerked as she felt fingers snaking up the back of her hero suit, ghosting along the zipper. She leaned back, trying to trap his hand in place, but he pulled her forwards roughly. “No, don’t –!”

He paused, hand settling around her neck. “Don’t?” He squeezed lightly, fingers massaging into a knot along the side of her throat, and it felt good. Unconsciously, Ochako leaned into the touch, letting out a tiny, faint sigh. “You sure, kitten?”

Without any warning, his hand disappeared, grabbing the tab of her zipper and pulling down. The fabric of her suit split open down to the small of her back, and the sudden cold air made her gasp. 

She swallowed, and flinched when Bakugou ran a gloved finger down her spine to where her zipper stopped. “I thought you said you’re not scared of me?”

It was a taunt, meant to incite a reaction out of her. Ochako knew she should’ve just kept her mouth shut, but instead, she blurted out, “I’m not.”

“Good,” he chuckled darkly. In one smooth movement, he reached around her and grabbed the two sides of her suit, ripping the back open. Ochako could feel the cloth tearing, splitting across the crotch seam curving between her legs and exposing her underwear.

“What are you – mmfh!?” Her protests were cut off by the soft wad of fabric that was suddenly shoved in her mouth, her entire body seizing when her bare back hit the cold surface of the wall. She shuddered, arching away from the concrete, and dimly, Ochako realized that the thick, damp material in her mouth was a piece of her suit.

“As much as I want to stuff that pretty mouth of yours with my cock, I think you need to loosen up a little first,” he murmured. She froze at his words, anticipation and desire and fear all spiraling through her body as she struggled to decipher the tangle of emotions.

Bakugou took her sudden stillness as compliance and tugged at her suit until the ripped fabric split up her front. She watched in alarm as he pulled off his gauntlets and gloves with an eager, hungry look in his eyes.

He didn’t bother to hide the way his gaze dragged over her prone body, lingering at the shadowed swell of her chest and the apex of her thighs. Looming over her like this, he felt more like a predator ready to devour her rather than a villain, and Ochako felt a heavy, heady swell of lust that shot straight to her core at the thought.

A finger hooked around the remains of her suit, the touch featherlight as he slowly pulled the fabric aside until a breast bounced free. Her suit had a built-in compression support, and while she usually also wore a bra underneath, she regretted that this was the one time in a while that she’d gone without it.

Ochako didn’t want this – or rather, she shouldn’t want this. But at the same time, as he cupped her breast with a rough, calloused hand, she couldn’t help but wonder…

“You’ve got the most perfect fuckin’ tits.” He rolled a thumb over her nipple, mouth curling as she squirmed a little at the motion. The rough texture of his callouses, combined with the chilly air, made the bud pebble almost immediately. Bakugou licked his lips as he noticed. “You like that, sweetcheeks?”

Ochako clenched her jaw, refusing to answer, and he chuckled. Yanking the other half of her suit away, he hummed approvingly when her other breast was finally bare, testing the weight of it in his palm. He seemed happy to take his sweet time playing with her, mesmerized, until he suddenly leaned down to run the tip of his tongue over one peak.

She bit back a cry at the sudden action, shying away from his mouth on instinct. Embarrassment flooded her, but the ache throbbing from between her legs only became more insistent.

“Shit, you’re soft,” he grunted, and she inhaled sharply when he leaned in and suckled the nipple into his mouth, teasing it between his teeth. His other hand kneaded at her other breast, roughly twisting his fingers in a way that had Ochako’s vision going blurry.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, releasing her nipple with a quiet pop before diving right back in. Ochako tried to make a sound of denial, but a hard suck had her arching her back, heat blooming in her abdomen as she failed to hold back a low moan.

Bakugou pulled back just enough to peer up at her, triumph shining in those red eyes. The shame wasn’t enough to block out the desire that settled hot in her stomach, and Ochako shut her eyes, trying to think of something, anything that could convince her body to stop reacting. She told herself that she didn’t want this – she didn’t want it like this, she wanted –

“Keep those pretty eyes open for me,” he murmured, and her eyes flew open at the sharp pinch on her hip. Ochako tried to move away from the touch, but she couldn’t do much as a hand dove below the hem of her underwear and easily settled over her clit.

“Mmfph!” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as her knees nearly buckled. The two fingers rubbing slow, methodical circles over her felt perfect – just the right amount of pressure, just the right touch of roughness as he scraped over the small nub. The sudden jolt of pleasure had her bucking against his touch desperately, the dull sparks in her core suddenly burning with the intensity of a bonfire.

“All this for me?” The low, gravelly voice rumbled right into her ear, and it had her toes curling as she whimpered. How was it fair that the sexiest voice she’d ever heard belonged to a villain?

She couldn’t help but let out a muted whine when he slid down past her clit to trace the slick seam of her pussy, gently teasing her by running his fingertips across her entrance. “Shit, you’re fuckin’ dripping, babygirl.”

He stepped closer, suddenly pulling her knees up and around his hips. “Wrap your legs around me,” he commanded. Dizzy from his soft petting, Ochako unconsciously hooked her ankles together behind his back. Bakugou withdrew his hand only to suddenly rip her underwear away, leaving a sting at her hips and her opening exposed. She didn’t even have a moment to think before he sunk two fingers into her, the sudden stretch making her yelp and her mind going blank.

“Shhh,” he cooed, scraping his palm against her clit as he spread her open. “Look at you, taking my fingers so well.” Her head fell back with a thump, and she tried to keep her voice quiet as he leaned in, sucking a trail of bruises into her collarbone and neck. His other hand fell to her ass, clenching at the meat of one cheek as he guided her hips in a slow rock.

Ochako inhaled sharply as a third finger joined the others, and let out a high-pitched squeal at the feel of him stretching her. His fingers were thicker than her own, relentless and firm, and she lost herself to the sweet, aching weight that kept tightening with every pump of his hand. She rutted against him, grinding down desperately, and her legs tensed as she leaned against the wall behind her for leverage. 

Bakugou grinned as she started to roll her hips more and more, watching her increasingly desperate expression in smug satisfaction. He changed the angle of his hand, crooking the digits slightly, and Ochako audibly choked as they brushed against her sweet spot.

“Oh?”

He pulled back, peering into her eyes with a wicked smirk. He prodded at the same place, pressing harder, and she let out a sob at the winding tightness that threatened to burst as he began to pump his fingers faster, making sure to hit her spot each time.

“Fuck... acting like you don’t want this when your body’s just begging for it.” The words went straight to her pussy, his fingers gliding in and out of her without any resistance, and Ochako heaved into the gag as a haze of lust fell over her brain. At her breast, he teased the sensitive nipple, alternating between scraping the edge of his nail and scrubbing the rough pad of his thumb over the dusky peak.

He growled in her ear. “C’mon, babygirl, let me hear you, I wanna see you cum for me – ”

Her orgasm crashed over her, and Ochako let out a muffled scream. Her walls spasmed as she dug her heels into his back, using the leverage to mindlessly fuck herself on his fingers and ride out the waves of pleasure flooding her senses. Bakugou looked smug, whispering filthy encouragements in her ear as she weakly pulsed around him, and cooed when she closed her eyes and slumped against the wall, the simmering heat finally dissipating and leaving her boneless.

Then, the clicking shutter of a camera echoed loudly, snapping her out of her post-orgasmic haze. She opened her eyes just as a bright flash exploded in her vision, momentarily blinding her just as the same camera shutter sounded again.

“H-Hmfph?” She felt disoriented, her head spinning as she tried to clear her head and readjust to the sudden darkness. “Hmfph hm -”

“Fuck… look at you, kitten.” Ochako blinked, her vision focusing on the device in a large hand. It took a second to register what she was seeing, but her heart dropped to the floor as she stared at the photo on the screen of a cell phone. “Now I’ll always remember the pretty little face you make when you come.”

It was a picture of her – suit ruined, breasts on display, and what was unmistakably a hand in the middle of plunging three fingers into her. There were red marks littered across the pale skin of her chest and neck, the telltale shine of her cum glistening on both Bakugou’s hand and around her cunt – and the worst part of it all was the fucked out, blissful expression on her face, eyes dazed with her mouth stuffed full and drooling.

Ochako couldn’t think, frozen in horror as he tucked the phone away in his pants. The fact that he had taken a picture of her – all the blood ran out of her face as her mind ran through the possible implications. If it ever got out, if it ever got leaked… the scandal of it would end her career in an instant. In fact, her life would be ruined; there wasn’t a single place in Japan that would hire her with a picture like that immortalized on the internet.

Ochako jerked as Bakugou’s thick fingers continued to stroke her firmly, weakly struggling against his insistent touch. She was too sensitive, but the overstimulation served to clear her head a little as she tried to think of a plan.  

She had to get that phone, but there was no way she’d be able to get it if she was stuck hanging like this.

Let him take you. The dark voice inside of her whispered temptingly. Give in.

The hand between her legs finally pulled away, and she sighed in relief. Bakugou brought the wet, shiny fingers to his mouth, and her mouth went dry as he sucked the digits clean. His eyes flared in a smolder that had her core clenching again.

“You taste so damn good, kitten.” His gaze darted between his fingers and her face, and before he even moved, Ochako knew exactly what he was thinking.

She coughed, gasping a little as the wad of cloth was pulled from her mouth. There were trails of saliva running down her chin, and although she felt embarrassed by it, for some reason, Bakugou’s eyes gleamed at the sight. His head cocked to the side, studying her carefully when she didn’t immediately spit out a string of protests.

He cupped her chin, tilting her head up so she could meet his crimson eyes. “Am I going to get any more lip, or are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

Oh no. Those two words sent lightning shooting straight to her pussy. She tensed, trembling. Please, please don’t notice.

“… I’ll be good,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the last word, and her stomach flipped when a slow, pleased smile stretched across his face.

“Should’ve known you’d like that kind of thing.” He dragged a thumb across her bottom lip. “Don’t worry, babygirl – I’ll take good care of you.”

Play along. Cooperate. Let him –

She mewled as he pushed past her lips, timidly meeting the digit with her tongue. Slowly sucking on it, she lapped at the pad with little licks, and didn’t resist when he suddenly pulled back to replace his thumb with his fingers instead.

“Fuck,” he whispered, slowly feeding two digits into her mouth, and Ochako whimpered as her lips stretched around them lewdly. She did her best to relax as they slid in, gagging as he pushed further towards her throat, and moaned when Bakugou said hoarsely, “Suck for me, baby.”

It was hard to keep her mind straight as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked, her tongue laving around his fingertips as he started to thrust them in and out of her mouth. She could feel the tears pricking in the corners of her eyes as she tried to breathe, but the lack of oxygen still made her head swim and her vision go blurry.

“That’s a good girl.” She whined, unconsciously bobbing her head forward to try and take his fingers deeper down her throat, and through her daze, she heard Bakugou mutter, “Fuck it.”

He pulled his hand back, leaving Ochako gasping from the sudden emptiness. The dizziness of her head made it hard to focus, but she felt an arm band itself right below her ass, lifting her up while Bakugou pulled her free of the hook she’d been hanging from, her hands separating for a brief moment.

Hope filled her as the familiar feeling of her quirk returned, albeit still weak and mostly blocked by the odd cuffs. Maybe she could –

She stumbled as she was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor between his legs, crying out as her knees hit the concrete. Before she even realized what was happening, there were hands grabbing her wrists, and she was pulled tight against Bakugou’s hips as her arms were forced to wrap around thick thighs.

She felt her wrists snapping back together, and she wanted to scream as her quirk disappeared again. No, no –!

“Shhh,” Bakugou crooned, smoothing over her cheek, and she suddenly realized that she was kneeling in front of him, eye level with the pronounced tent in his dark trousers. She watched in muted fascination as a large, scarred hand made quick work of undoing the belt and tugging down fabric until a thick, weeping cock spilled out, bobbing inches away from her face.

Ochako felt saliva pool in her mouth as she stared at it. It was pretty, curving upwards with precum already dripping, and her pride swelled a little as she stared at the flushed tip and veins straining along the shaft. He was hard, because of her – just from letting him fingerfuck her pussy and her mouth – and she was suddenly struck by the urge to taste him.

“I – ” She leaned forward a little, licking her lips. “I – ”

The hand that was caressing her head suddenly grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking back hard enough for her to gasp. The action forced her face to tilt up, and her eyes met Bakugou’s glittering red gaze.

“I know what you want, kitten,” he murmured, and she let him guide her forward, feeding his dick into her mouth. “You’re gonna look so pretty, with those lips wrapped around my cock.”

Ochako felt her eyes roll to the back of her head at the feel of his length sliding past her lips, his hand keeping her in place while he gently started to fuck her face. Without her hands to help, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked as she bobbed back and forth, using her tongue to play along whatever she could reach.

She inhaled steadily as the tip of him hit the back of her throat, working past the instinctual panic when her gag reflex tried to kick in. Bakugou groaned, tugging at her hair to pull her off of him, but Ochako firmly brought her arms up around his ass and yanked him forward, relaxing as he slid down her throat.

Under all her concentration, her brain registered the hard shape of a cell phone below her hands. 

Bingo.

“Holy fucking shit,” he grunted, and she hummed at the feeling of his hand tightening. “Fuck, fuck – ”

She finally let go, pulling back to cough and recover her breath, before licking across the tip of him, panting hard. She peered up at him through her eyelashes, savoring the heavy weight of him on her tongue as she took him back into her mouth. She could feel Bakugou’s eyes burning into her as she suckled at the flared head and dipped her tongue into his slit.

I want him to fill me. The thought passed as quickly as it came, but it made her moan around him, her core clenching emptily. I want him, I want him, I –

He staggered a little, his arm shooting out to steady himself against the wall, and the movement made her hands brush over the top edge of his back pocket. She could feel the hard edge of the phone peeking out over the fabric.

Tilting her face up so she could stare directly into his eyes, she didn’t break eye contact as she pulled his hips towards her mouth, letting him watch as his cock disappeared into her mouth and down her throat again in a slow, smooth swallow.  The flushed, blissed out expression on Bakugou’s face, combined with the tiny thrusts as he bottomed out, sent a warm gush of satisfaction shooting through her.

She twisted her hands, fingertips finding purchase on the phone, and slowly started to pull it out.

“God, your mouth is perfect,” he whispered, and she hummed again. He started to fuck her mouth more roughly, pulling out farther only to slam back into her so he could feel her throat squeeze around his shaft. “You love this, don’t you? You love it when I use your throat as my little cocksleeve, fuck, baby, I –”

Almost there. Almost –

He suddenly stopped, and Ochako froze as he hissed, “Oh, you sneaky little bitch.”       

Without any warning, she was yanked back, hard, pulling her off Bakugou’s dick with a startled gasp. Her hand was suddenly caught in a tight grip, trapping her fingers against the cool metal of his phone, and she heard a dark snarl above her.

“So that’s how you wanna play?” He yanked the phone out of her grasp, and Ochako felt the tiny flame of hope in her chest die. “After I took such good care of you?”

There was an intense look on his face, the curl of his lip and hint of sharp teeth promising a punishment that she almost wanted to ask for at this point, but her eyes darted back to the phone he was holding. 

Her mind went into overdrive, trying to think of another solution. She had no quirk, no backup, and was sitting here on her knees, at the mercy of a man who had a record of trying to kill her. Granted, he had said that he wasn’t here to do that, but –

��I just wanna break you.”

“You’re going to enjoy every goddamn second of it.”

“I’ve been waiting for this for months.”

Would he… ? 

Something that felt like resolve settled into her chest, and Ochako steeled herself – she wasn’t about to let a few goddamn pictures ruin everything she’d ever worked for. 

Her face must’ve given something away, because he frowned a little as she arched into his hold a little, straightening as much as she could. 

“Oi, oi –”

“Delete the photos.”

He stilled. “….what?”

She met his gaze squarely, gathering up all the bravado she could find and channeling it into her voice. “Delete them. Please.”

“Tch… you’ve got some fuckin’ balls, I’ll give you that, sweetcheeks.” Bakugou scoffed, fingers tightening in her hair to the point of pain, and she winced. “I could kill you in a second, and you’re sittin’ here making demands?”

“Didn’t you say you weren’t here to kill me?” She let the corner of her mouth curl up, just a little, and ran her tongue over her top lip slowly. With how her head was pulled back, Bakugou could see the way her throat worked as she swallowed. “And I’m not demanding. I’m asking. Nicely.”

Bakugou, for the first time since she’d met him, looked like he didn’t know what to say. “… the fuck?” He glanced at his phone, brows furrowed, and she could see the moment that he realized it. “Did you seriously let me facefuck you because of a few shitty pictures?”

“So what if I did?” Ochako lifted her chin stubbornly. “I’m not going to let you spread nudes of myself across the internet.”

“You think I’d let anyone else see you like this, babygirl?” He raised an eyebrow, staring down at her, and slowly, his sneer shifted into something a little incredulous as she continued to hold his gaze unwaveringly. “Shit, you’re fuckin’ serious.”

“Please delete them,” she repeated, and as she did, an idea flitted through her brain. 

Her arms, which had fallen around his spread knees, came up around his thighs, and tugged him forward until his still-hard cock lightly hit her cheek. There was something tickling at the back of her brain as she recalled all the pet names and promises and his behavior, and Ochako took a chance as she glanced up at him through her lashes, meeting widening red eyes, and whispered, “Please, daddy.”

Bakugou choked a little, his fist tightening and his mouth dropping open. Seconds passed as she continued to hold his gaze, nuzzling his saliva-slicked shaft as much as she could while still being held in place, and she let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief as something more calculating flickered across his expression.

“Depends on what you’re willing to give me, kitten.” Slowly, he smirked. The grip on her hair loosened, coming to wrap around her throat with a careful squeeze that had her seeing stars.

Ochako whimpered at his burning stare and the feel of his hand, a gush of slick trickling down the inside of her thigh. “I… I –”

“How about this?” She gasped as the rough texture of his palms scraped against her skin, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “I’ll delete ‘em if you let me fuck you.”

She paused, not sure if she heard him correctly. “What?”

“I’ll delete the photos.” Bakugou pressed his thumb into the hollow of her jaw, the pressure making her vision go blurry. “But only if you let me,” he emphasized, his hand tightening slightly, “fuck you.”

Yes, please, yes, yes, yes –

She could feel herself giving in, teetering at the edge of a precipice, but the last bit of rationality in her brain was screaming at her. “… How do I know you’re actually going to do it?”

Bakugou said nothing at first, staring down at her with a thoughtful look, before he let go of her neck. Ochako mourned the loss of friction, wheezing as air rushed back into her lungs, but a moment later, the magnetic pull of the cuffs on her wrists disappeared. Her arms dropped heavy at her sides, and the faintest brush of her quirk started to trickle back into her consciousness.

“Here.” The cell phone was all but shoved in her face, and Ochako blinked in bewilderment.

“W-what?”

Bakugou grumbled, tossing it to her, and she caught the slim device on instinct. A quick glance showed that the screen was unlocked, opened to the camera roll, and a series of six pictures of herself stared back at her alongside a number of dark, blurry shots she couldn’t quite make out. “Hurry up.”

She blinked, then gaped at him as she said again. “What?”

“Fuckin’ delete ‘em, kitten.” The annoyed glare he threw at her promised something bad if she didn’t stop asking the same question. “You’ve got five seconds before I take it back.”

That kickstarted her into action, and Ochako hurriedly selected all the photos of herself and tapped the trash icon. She felt a thousand times lighter as she watched the preview boxes disappear, and she let out a sigh of relief.

Bakugou snatched his phone from her, shoving it away, and to her surprise, sank down onto his knees in front of her. She let out a surprised yelp when he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his lap, positioning her so that sopping pussy lined up just perfectly with his dick.

She let out a keening gasp. “W-wait –!”

“They’re gone, kitten.” His hands sat heavy on her hips, the heat of them unnaturally hot even through the tattered remains of her suit, and he guided her in a slow grind down on him. The mess of her own slick and cum between her thighs, combined with the deliberate slide of him at her entrance, had her seeing stars. “Time to pay up.”

“But I –”

“You still trying to pretend like you don’t want this?” He let out a sharp laugh, but for the first time, he sounded a little hoarse, a note of desperation in his tone. “After you let me finger you ‘til you came? After you swallowed my cock down that pretty little throat?”

She squealed when he tilted her hips so that his cockhead nudged right against her clit. “A c-condom –”

“Don’t try and pull that bullshit with me.” He leaned down to her neck, sucking and nipping at the skin there. “I know all you female heroes have IUDs – besides, you think I’m gonna miss the chance to fuck this pretty little cunt full of my cum?”  

The rough words were punctuated by the sensation of his shaft sliding between her lips, and every last coherent thought drained away as her hindbrain screamed at her, the gaping ache between her thighs intensifying to the point of pain.

“Oh g-god –” she hiccupped, her head swimming as a hand came up to wrap around her throat again. With a quick movement, she found herself flat on her back, the cold, rough concrete digging into her spine as Bakugou hovered over her. “… please, please –”

Her legs fell on either side of his thighs, and as he nudged her knees apart, she spread herself open with a cry. Bakugou made a low sound of approval. “What’s my name, babygirl?”

She mewled weakly, desperately. “Daddy – daddy, please –”

“Good girl,” he crooned, smiling as he brushed over her pounding pulse. Ochako didn’t know when she had reached up to grasp his biceps, but she could feel the muscles shifting below her fingers as he started to massage her neck. “Let’s see how well you can take it.”

All she could do was gasp, her vision fogging as he continued to squeeze and release her throat in a slow pattern. She whined faintly at the blunt head of Bakugou’s cock cut a path between her pussy and her clit, the shallow movements teasing her and withholding the friction she desperately craved. 

“There we go,” he whispered, and Ochako’s breath hitched when the head of him caught against her entrance. She shut her eyes, hoping that he’d sheath himself into her all at once, but the sudden fullness that she was expecting never came.

Instead, Bakugou pressed into her slowly, pushing in with shallow pumps that made his length drag torturously against her walls. The pace wasn’t just slow – it was practically glacial, teasing as her walls desperately fluttered, trying to suck him in. The hand on her abdomen kept her from sinking herself onto him, and the only thing Ochako could do was lie there and take it as he rocked into her, inch by inch.

“Oh g-god,” she wheezed, eyes rolling back when he snapped his hips suddenly, plunging deeper than he’d ever gone. The faint stinging of her cunt stretching faded almost as quickly as it came, leaving her aching. It wasn’t enough. “Oh god, fuck – ”

“Beg for it,” he demanded, his voice low and rough. He changed his rhythm, thrusting into her sharply and pulling out slowly, but despite how good it felt, she wanted more. She wanted him deeper, she wanted him all over and around and in her. “Beg, babygirl, beg me for my cock, beg me to fill you up – ”

“ – please, please, I wan’ it,” she sobbed, slurring over the words. Her head was spinning, her eyes going unfocused, and all she wanted was to be full. “Please – ”

“Please what?”

“Please daddy,” she pleaded, and Bakugou’s voice rumbled in approval. “Fill me, stuff me full, please, please – ”

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, squeezing her throat one final time and then pulling away.  “All you had to do is ask.” His hands dropped to cup her ass, and just as Ochako was about to complain about the loss of warmth around her neck, Bakugou buried himself into her. His hands controlled the angle of her hips, tilting her pelvis so he could sink just a little deeper, and when he bottomed out, she sobbed in relief.

“Please, fuck me, please, please daddy pleaseplease –” She didn’t even register the babbling words falling from her lips, needy and hungry and eager, and she clenched around the fullness of him, trying to buck against his hips. The hands on her ass clenched and Bakugou shuddered, grunting as he looked at her with dark, ravenous eyes.

“You heard what I said before, babygirl,” he said softly, his voice heavy with promise. He leaned over her, his rough stubble brushing across her jaw as heavy breaths ghosted over her ear. “Remember, you asked for this. You wanted this.” 

His mouth grazed across the apple of her cheek, a tired peck that felt oddly out of place. Unfortunately, she didn’t even have a chance to think about what it could mean as his hands slid up to grip her hips, holding her still as he slammed into her, his cock angled directly on the sweet spot he’d found with his fingers earlier.

Ochako screamed, her voice cutting off in a choked moan as Bakugou began pounding into her, using her like a toy and stuffing her full. He fucked her relentlessly – his hips didn’t stutter, his grip was strong, and his pace steadily got faster and faster, even as her voice started to break into shattered sobs.

Through her teary vision, she saw Bakugou’s concentrated, vicious snarl, his body curling over her to stare at where his dick disappeared into her pussy. His eyes snapped up to meet hers, and he suddenly lunged forward, crashing his lips to hers in a messy tangle of saliva and tongues and teeth.

“So pretty, babygirl, split open on my cock like this.” The words were murmured against her lips, husky and raspy in a way that had her legs falling open even wider. “So fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ good for me, such a good little cockslut –”

“O-oh g-god, please, fuck, f-fuck –”

“M’ gonna ruin you for everyone else,” he said, growling. “Gonna fuck you full, you’re mine, babygirl, you’re always gonna be mine.”

“Yes, yes, please –”

Ochako’s brain was mush, a foggy haze where the only thing she registered was the taut pressure in her abdomen, winding tighter and tighter. She could barely think straight, and dimly, she heard Bakugou speaking.

“Who do you belong to?” His voice sounded wrecked, the words spilling out of him as he yanked her legs over his shoulders, leaning down over her and somehow sinking in even deeper. Her eyes rolled back as he panted, “Who does this pretty, perfect little cunt belong to?”

Ochako was so, so close. She could feel herself spiraling, writhing as she tried to chase after the cresting wave of her climax. She wanted him to come, she wanted him to come in her –

“You, daddy,” she slurred, “S’yours, all yours –”

Her voice cut off abruptly, white bursting across her vision as she wailed into his neck. Her nails dug into his shoulders as waves of pleasure uncurled from her core, and the fluttering pulses of her pussy only served to suck Bakugou in even deeper, trying to milk him dry.  

“Yes,” he hissed, capturing her mouth in a bruising, brutal kiss as his hips started to stutter, hands sliding up to dig painfully into her waist. He drove into her, the frenzied thrusts dragging quiet moans out of her, and Bakugou sagged against her as he came with a thick, drawn out groan.

He was still kissing her as his pumps slowed, the heady warmth of his cum making Ochako keen softly. Bakugou reached up and gently lowered her legs off his shoulders, soothing her with languid brushes of his tongue when she made a small noise of discomfort, and drew back with a breathless sigh.

“Holy shit,” he said hoarsely. Ochako let out a tiny huff of agreement, closing her eyes as she melted bonelessly into the ground.

Worth it, something in her whispered, and she couldn’t help but agree. She felt exhausted and sated, the slow aftershocks of her orgasm lulling her into a state of quiet contentment. Ochako couldn't remember the last time she felt so relaxed – she wanted to just lie here and bask in the afterglow of the best sex of her life.

Bakugou seemed to have different plans. She winced as he slowly pulled out, the friction almost too much with how deep he had pounded into her. The lewd squelch of her walls trying to keep him inside her sent an embarrassed flush rising to her face, and he laughed. 

“Can’t get enough of me, huh?” There was a soft pop as his cock came free, and she could feel the warm, thick mess of her slick and his cum start to drip out of her. He let out a low, guttural groan, and she felt him shifting a litte. “Knew you’d look so pretty like this, kitten. Knew you’d be fuckin’ perfect.”

There was a familiar twist in her belly, the praise settling warmly beneath her breastbone, but she was lucid enough to crack an eye open, pinning him with what she hoped was a stern look. “If you take another photo of me, I swear I’m going to personally lock you in Tartarus,” she said tiredly, and he let out a quiet huff of amusement in response. 

“Tch, not like I’ll fuckin’ need it,” he muttered, and she felt him smoothing his palms up the insides of her thigh, rubbing tiny circles into her skin. “I’m never gonna forget what my babygirl looks like, all fucked out and dripping with my cum.”

Her eyes fluttered open, her chest still heaving, and she jerked as Bakugou skimmed over her slit, doing his best to gather the wetness leaking out and push it back into her. Ochako let out a low noise, somewhere between a whine and a moan, and couldn’t quite squirm away before he started thrusting his fingers into her in a smooth, slow rhythm, rubbing at her walls.

“W-what are you –?” she stuttered, trying to push herself away from his probing. “Wait, stop – !” 

To her surprise, his hand stilled, and when he glanced up at her, something wicked flashed across his eyes. “I made you a promise, babygirl,” he said, and the sharp smile growing across his features sent goosebumps erupting over her skin. “You didn’t think I’d let you go so easily, did you?”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

Ochako rubbed at her temples, staring down at the quickly blurring mess of words in front of her. The reports she was reading were riddled with errors and inconsistencies, incomplete to boot, and she was this close to clocking out and leaving the mess for tomorrow.

Leaning back into her chair with a groan, she massaged a knot at her shoulder, wincing at the pain. The past few days had been rough both physically and mentally, and she wanted nothing more than to turn her brain off and marinate in her bed for her entire day off. 

She bit her lip as her thoughts wandered, unwillingly, back to the distraction that had been plaguing her all week. 

It had nearly been a month since she had run into Bakugou at that warehouse – a month since she’d been fucked stupid, since a villain had given her some of the most intense orgasms she’d ever experienced. He made her come two more times that night, once with his mouth and again with his cock, and she had limped home wrapped in his shirt, turned inside-out to hide the distinctive orange X across the chest. The fabric smelled like burnt sugar and sex, and she found herself sniffing the cloth days later, chasing the addictive, fading scent as the bruises on her body started to fade.

She knew that logically, it wasn’t going to happen again. That one time was a mistake, and to this day she still felt guilty, especially when she knew that Edgeshot had a number of cases depending on Bakugou’s arrest. Their next encounter, whenever and wherever it happened, would have to be their last. She just couldn’t risk making the same mistake twice, falling deeper into the hole she was supposed to be climbing out of.

Still, it didn’t stop her from recalling the memory of his voice and his hands and his dick as she touched herself, muffling her desperate cries for ‘daddy.’ Ochako hadn’t been able to get off with her usual toys or her fingers since they’d fucked in that warehouse, and it was getting to the point where she was desperate enough to find a random stranger to use for a night. 

The sound of a text notification drew her out of her thoughts, and she dug through the mess on her desk for her phone. When she finally found it, Ochako frowned at the unknown number listed. It was probably another telemarketer advertisement, but she dutifully swiped on the banner to open the message. 

When the text finally loaded, she nearly dropped her phone in surprise, her mouth dropping open in horror. 

It was a picture – of her, from that same night with Bakugou. 

Ochako was on her knees, facing away from the camera with a thick cock half-buried into her pussy. Her arms were splayed across the floor by her chest, and her head was turned to the side just enough to see her face, mouth open mid-moan and her eyes heavy-lidded in pleasure. A familiar, scarred hand was clenching her ass, fingers digging into the plump cheek, and her heart shot to her throat.

Her phone chimed twice, a message popping up under the first, and then another. 

[Unknown, 18:32] – looks like my hand slipped

[Unknown, 18:32] – wanna make a deal, babygirl?

#kacchako #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bakuraka #bnha #by nebbia #nsfw #smut #bnha smut #villain au #please read warnings!

[dallanebbia]

One Hundred Ways to Say ‘I Love You’

“Pull over.  Let me drive for awhile.”

“It reminded me of you.”

“No, no, it’s my treat.”

“Come here.  Let me fix it.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Have a good day at work.”

“I dreamt about you last night.”

“Take my seat.”

“I saved a piece for you.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“You can have half.”

“Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”

“Sorry I’m late.”

“Can I have this dance?”

“I made your favourite.”

“It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“Watch your step.”

“Here, drink this.  You’ll feel better.”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“You can borrow mine.”

“You might like this.”

“It’s not heavy.  I’m stronger than I look.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Just because.”

“Look both ways.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”

“Try some.”

“Drive safely.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“One more chapter.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“It looks good on you.”

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

“That’s okay, I bought two.”

“After you.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“I like your laugh.”

“Don’t cry.”

“I made this for you.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“Is this okay?”

“I picked these for you.”

“I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“What do you want to watch?”

“You can go first.”

“Did you get my letter?”

“I’ll do it for you.”

“Call me when you get home.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“Are you sure?”

“Have fun.”

“Sit down, I’ll get it.”

“I made reservations.”

“I don’t mind.”

“It brings out your eyes.”

“There is enough room for both of us.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Wow.”

“Happy birthday.”

“I’ll pick it up after work.”

“It can wait until tomorrow.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“It’s two sugars, right?”

“I’ll help you study.”

“Stay over.”

“I did the dishes.”

“You didn’t have to ask.”

“I bought you a ticket.”

“You’re warm.”

“No reason.”

“I’ll meet you halfway.”

“Take mine.”

“We can share.”

“I was just thinking about you.”

“I want you to have this.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“Do you want to come too?”

“I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”

“Is your seatbelt on?”

“Sweet dreams.”

“I was in the neighbourhood.”

“Stay there.  I’m coming to get you.”

“The key is under the mat.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re important too.”

“I saved you a seat.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“I noticed.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“I hope you like it.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“I believe in you.”

“You can do it.”

“Good luck.”

“I brought you an umbrella.”

“I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Take a deep breath.”

“Be careful.”

  And…

  100.  “I love you.”

#writing prompts

[dallanebbia]

"Yknow, you don’t have to be so nervous around me all the time."

My redraw is complete! Been wanting to do this for a while but finally had time to get it done 😪 Was super fun to do!

#kacchako #art #bnha

[dallanebbia]

This was supposed to be a quick sketch before bed but uh, I guess I got caught up in it. 

 Mulan!au #urarakaochako from @dalla_nebbia 's fic 'blooming' 

- @Petrifiedsouls1 (via Twitter)

(friends, i’ve been blessed with fan art and i’m crying. IT’S BEAUTIFUL.)

#kacchako #mulan AU #uraraka ochako #art #fanart

[dallanebbia]

"You’re really not going to turn me in?”

 a vague future-ish scene from my kacchako mulan au that i doodled the other day. i liked how it turned out, so i colored it... katsuki was supposed to have armor too but i got lazy :’)

#kacchako #mulan AU #katsuki bakugou #uraraka ochako #bnha #BNHA au #art #by nebbia

[dallanebbia]

Ten ways to say “I love you”

Straightforward. Soft and heavy, like morning before the coffee’s started brewing. Like that’s all there is to say.

Through laughter, over a chorus of voices, knowing it’ll strike home anyway. It’s meant for everyone here, after all.

Slipped under your tongue, twisted into something else. “I trust you,” maybe. Trust them to figure it out.

Instead of “thank you” or “see you soon” or “drive safe.” Because no matter what you say it’ll mean the same thing.

Casually, as if you don’t mean it. Trying like hell not to mean it.

Wrapped up in a question. How’s your day been, have you eaten, you know you can tell me anything, right? You know you can tell them anything. Right?

Under your breath while the whole house sleeps, just before you have to leave for the day. More for yourself than for them.

With a hand on their shoulder, a song on your lips, or a carton of their favorite ice cream in the freezer.

Over a nervous smile, biting back the just-this-side-of-desperate hope they’ll say it back.

With a soft sigh. Past exhaustion and frustration and despair, like it’s the only good thing left. Sometimes it is.

#writing prompts

[dallanebbia]

My final piece for the @antigravity-zine! Thanks for letting be a part of this project!

#uraraka ochako #bnha manga #art

[dallanebbia]

Adult Bakugo…I’d like to think he gets a lot of scars from being a reckless lad 

#bakugou katsuki #bnha #art

[dallanebbia]

they cute. round and spiky. ♡

#kacchako #art #bnha

[dallanebbia]

This was for KacchakoDay but things happened. They're in 3rd year here, 'cause I say so

#bnha #kacchako #art