It all started after a particularly rough day of training. Uraraka didn’t have breakfast or lunch and the overexertion of physical energy paired with not sleeping well the night before made her woozy.
She limped across campus to the dorms looking completely disheveled. Hair unbrushed, eyes bloodshot, crumpled shirt buttoned haphazardly and untucked, tie hanging loose, signature stockings stuffed into her bag. What a mess. All she desired in that moment was to look decent enough to get back to her room, put on her pajamas, and hop into bed.
She was so exhausted, she didn’t even bother to tie her shoes, a careless decision she had come to feel sorry (not sorry) about.
Bleary eyed, she stumbled out of the elevator onto her floor, dragging her feet as she went. Her room was so close yet so far. Just a few. More. Steps.
Next thing she knew, her feet tangled themselves with her loose laces, but her body continued its forward motion and sent her plummeting towards the ground.
She expected to land on the rough carpet. Instead she found herself on top of a very wide-eyed and very shirtless Bakugou.
A freshly showered Bakugou. A rare soap-scented Bakugou.
“Oi! What the hell, Round Face?” he yelled, shaking her out of her daze.
Flustered, she used his pecs as support to push herself up.
A deliciously firm chested Bakugou. A shockingly hard nippled Bakugou.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going next time,” he growled down at her and disappeared down the hallway to his own room, towel slung over his shoulder.
She placed a thumb on the palm of her other hand and rubbed it with tiny circles, trying to mimic the sensation.
What a rush.
Ever since that day, a new addiction burdened her. There was mochi, space aesthetics, learning new ways to save money, and now, the feel of those rock hard muscle fibers in her hands.
Did that make her a pervert? So be it. She’d wear that label like a badge of honor. Her desire outweighed her dignity at this point.
If she was really honest with herself, he was climbing up the rankings to top her list of obsessions. Hmph. He just had to be number one at everything didn’t he, even when he wasn’t trying.
Her mind overflowed with devising scenarios to stumble over herself on the slim chance she could get a handful of him.
Bakugou thought Uraraka was getting really fucking clumsy as of late. Maybe her quirk was affecting her sense of balance?
After weeks of her flailing all over him, he got sick of seeing the future hero so graceless. Therefore, he made a decision to be a nice fucking guy and set her straight.
None of her idiot friends were helping her anyway.
In fact, he witnessed two-left-feet Deku cause her to go crashing to the classroom floor right in front of him. The two were simply walking when – bam – Deku stumbled into Uraraka’s shoulder, sending her tipping forward. Her hands comically grabbed at the air in front of Bakugou as he watched her tumble to the ground in front of him. With her face kissing the linoleum, she pounded a frustrated fist on the floor.
Before Bakugou could lend her a hand, Deku leapt forward to help her up, muttering quietly but just loud enough for him to make out the words, “Sorry Uraraka, we’ll try again next time.” It didn’t make any sense to him, so Bakugou brushed it aside, having very little room in his head to think about anything that damn nerd said.
The first few times Bakugou came to Uraraka’s aid, he stabilized her by her shoulders. He marveled at how much shorter she was compared to him (along with wondering how it was possible for so much power to be packed into such a small space).
Once, he was late on the uptake so his arms went around the first place he could reach: her waist. Her body ended up nestled perfectly between his arms, her head tucked under his chin. He’d never held a girl in his arms like that before, but it was a surprisingly pleasant experience. It forced him to be delicate. Holding her was like holding a baby hedgehog. The kind that are nice to you when you give them food.
Anyway. That was that.
Her waist from that day forward became his grabby place of choice.
If he was really honest with himself, what he wanted to do was get a grip on those meaty thighs of hers. The curve of her skirt and those tights stretched over her legs were so seductive he wanted to shove his hand under there and rip them off so he could run his fingers over her bare skin.
But that would be going a little too far. He had restraint. He knew his boundaries. He wasn’t a fucking pervert. At least not one who acted on his perverted thoughts.
Either way, one thing was for sure: he was addicted to the feeling of her soft flesh on his hands.
So what if Uraraka was clumsy? He was okay with that.
Because almost everyday, he waited for her to quite literally fall for him so he could get a handful of her.
It was a late night at the dorms of 3A. Everyone was sleeping. Or, they were supposed to be.
Uraraka was on her way back to her room with a large glass of water. When you’re sleepy, four flights of stairs were no joke but she didn’t like using the noisy elevator when she was expected to be in her room getting much needed rest.
As she made her ascent, a figure stood at the top. A spiky silhouette she’d recognize anywhere. Presumably, Bakugou was on his way downstairs to get his own late night snack. The heaviness of his lids made him look tired, maybe even a little out of it.
Perfect. Unsuspecting prey.
She slowly made her way up, step by step. As she reached the landing – oopsie – she let her foot catch on the top stair and she went flying forward. Her hands jumped straight to his biceps and relished in their hardness. Like clockwork, his hands went to her waist to hold her up. Instead of finding her balance, she purposely rotated her body to bring them both down to the carpet floor, pulling him on top of her.
In her haste to feel him up, she had forgotten one thing. The glass cup previously in her hands was painfully wedged between their bodies, cold water spilling over and soaking the front of her white sleeping shirt.
“Shiiit. What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Round Face?”
“Sorry! It’s dark and I didn’t see you there.” A bold faced lie, but he didn’t have to know that.
She pushed the glass to the side allowing their chests to meet. Oh, right. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Another conveniently forgotten fact until that moment.
Then she felt it. The forbidden muscle below his waist she ached to fondle but doubted she’d ever get the chance. The one now hard and twitching against her thigh. An excited hum escaped her lips.
He immediately stood up as if shocked and she felt empty without his body on hers.
“You should change. Don’t want you to get sick,” he said with his head turned away from her. Maybe he was blushing, maybe he wasn’t. She liked to think that he was.
“I might need help,” she suddenly declared.
His gaze shot back to her. “Hah?!”
She didn’t know what had gotten into her, but the moment she was granted the privilege of bearing his full weight, she decided she wanted to carry it with her forever. And so, she abandoned all filters.
“Will. You. Help. Me?” she whispered into the dark, enunciating every word, hoping, willing him to read between the lines. His pupils studied her as she glided down the hall with languid steps to her room. She paused at her door and ogled him over her shoulder. He must have taken the hint because his body followed.
Once they entered her room together, he closed the door and locked it with a quiet click behind him. She kept the lights off, but the room was awash with the little bit of moonlight and fluorescent glow of the city skyscrapers beyond their school’s boundaries.
“Well?” She put her arms up like a kid, inviting him to undress her. Her shirt slid upwards, revealing a tiny sliver of skin above her sleeping shorts.
He was just trying to get some water. So how the the fuck did he find himself in Uraraka’s room, of all places?
It’s not like he was experienced in this type of shit. But he also wasn’t an idiot. He knew when someone was hitting on him. Fuck, he wanted to devour her so bad and here she was, offering herself up like she was a cake on a platter and it was his birthday.
Might as well celebrate.
He placed his palms on her hips and gave a little squeeze before he tugged on the hem of her damp loose fitting tee. He slowly peeled it off her body and tossed it to the ground, the weight of the water making it heavier than normal.
His eyes avoided gazing any further down but his peripheral vision wouldn’t let him off that easy. There’s no way he could ignore the rise and fall of her breasts with every breath she took. The two hardened dark pink pebbles of her nipples poked out, teasing him to tug on them.
“You can look,” she said with a deep blush on her face. “If you want.” She had one arm across her chest, hand holding her shoulder, but he could still see plenty.
He looked down and immediately looked back up. He wiped a sweaty palm on his shorts. What the fuck was wrong with him?
“Are you… are you nervous?” She whispered the question.
“No!” he said, inwardly cringing at how high and loud his voice sounded. “No,” he repeated more softly. “I’m just getting started.”
She shined that stunningly earnest smile of hers up at him. “It’s okay, I’m nervous too,” she reassured him. “It’s not like I’ve ever done anything like this with anyone before.” She paused with eyes wide, then asked, “Wait. Have you?”
He shook his head. “When would I have found the fucking time?”
“I dunno. I mean. Look at you!” she gestured wildly at his body.
He peered down at himself then back up at her. He bit down on his lip to keep from grinning like an idiot at her compliment.
She shivered, an involuntary reaction to sensing the air on her cold bare skin.
“Let’s get you warm,” he said lowly, putting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing. He really hoped he wasn’t getting his sweat all over her.
“But you’re wet too,” she said and pointing to the slight dampness that transferred from her shirt to his when they were on the fucking floor in the middle of the damn hallway. She pulled him closer to her by the hem. “I don’t want you to get sick, either.”
He smirked, then copied her by lifting his own arms.
She tugged it upwards but his height made it difficult for her to get it off him. He bent his body forward so she could get the whole thing off his head and through his thick arms.
When she dropped his shirt, they both laughed. Hearing the twinkle in her voice put him at ease. Maybe her too. For a moment, they stood there, taking in the expanse of each other’s exposed skin.
Uraraka broke the silence. “So… we gonna get warm or what?”
He moved first, encircling his arms around her whole body. She pushed her body against his and nuzzled into his chest.
“Mmm, you’re so warm,” she cooed, rubbing her cheeks against him.
“You’re fucking cold,” he complained but held her tighter still.
She chimed, “Sorryyyy.”
“Fuck it. Just means we need to get warmer.”
He scooped her up by her rear and slung her over his shoulder. She laughed again, then sighed. He could never tire of hearing those sounds come out of her. He walked them the short distance to her bed and brought them down to the mattress, pulling the comforter over them. She giggled with delight as the thick fabric fell over their bodies. They adjusted their positions so they were on their sides facing each other.
“Feels sooo good!” she squealed and wrapped the blanket tighter around them. He felt her legs entwine with his, and he put his arm around her waist to pull her closer to him, to feel her skin against his. Her softness against his hardness. She hummed and rested her head against a bicep. He played with her hair.
He liked this feeling.
He liked it a lot.
Over the past few months he could sense it. The build up of an unspeakable something between them. They couldn’t get enough of each other and their daily run-ins fueled the dirty fantasies running rampant in his head. Now, it was right in front of him: an opportunity to run savage hands over every single inch of each other’s bodies.
But a question floated in his head that wouldn’t leave him alone. He didn’t like diving into things without one hundred percent certainty and this would be no exception.
He held his breath and asked, “What are we doing here?”
“Hm. Well…” She put her finger to her chin in mock thought. “We’re staying warm by sharing body heat and laying in my bed.”
He let out a growl and poked her in her side. “You know what the fuck I mean.”
“What we’re doing here?” She pondered the question for a moment. Then said simply, “I like touching you.”
Her response was so straight forward, so matter-of-fact, all doubts in his head dissipated. He supposed that was as good a reason as any.
“Me too,” he responded, matching her confidence.
“Cool. Cool. Yay.” She smiled and bit the bottom corner of her lip. Damn, that was cute. “So let’s keep doing that.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her cheek. “Fine by me.”
She giggled. “I’m glad I was right about you.”
“That you go after what you want.” She put her cold hands against his pecs and rubbed her palms over his nipples. Then her nails lightly grazed at his skin.
This time, it was his turn to sigh.
The feedback on the first chapter was incredible, so much more than I expected or deserved. Thanks to all you lovely readers who have spoiled me rotten with your kudos and comments. Anyway, without further ado… Here it is! The smutty conclusion to this two-shot fic.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Wow, did she feel mighty. Little ol’ Uraraka Ochako had the power to summon mind-numbing sex sounds out of someone’s throat with the flick of a finger. And this wasn’t just anyone. This was the untouchable Bakugou Katsuki. But she was finding out that he was very touchable, indeed.
The moans and the whimpers and the groans. And then, when his eyes rolled back? Shit, he was so hot. Every single inch of him. He drove her wild with want.
He rubbed the backs of her thighs, hands hovering right below her butt, waiting there as if they needed permission.
“You should know better than that,” she chastised him. “Just do it already.”
His hands slid up the voluptuous contour of her ass and down into the waistband of her panties to cup her in his palms. He massaged her fleshy cheeks, pinching and stretching them in a way that made her stomach tighten. He dug his short nails into her. The sensual touching brought her hips closer to his like magnets finding their pull until they clicked against each other.
“You feel so good,” he murmured into her ear.
“That feels good.” She reciprocated with a pinch on both of his nipples and was again rewarded with that eye roll of his, this time accompanied by a low guttural moan.
Somewhere in between all the gasping and laughing and panting and lips dancing around each other’s faces, her mouth met his. It was so much more intimate than their thirsty fondling, her heart fluttered at the sensation.
Their kissing was awkward and out of sync. But that only made it more fun.
Their teeth clacked together and he grumbled against her mouth. She gave a giggle at his frustration. They repositioned their faces and noses bumped. When his hungry tongue slipped out to taste her, she ended up sucking on it before adjusting to let her tongue taste his back. This was a self-taught lesson in navigating each other’s bodies and she had come to learn one thing.
She was proud to put that pout of his between her lips.
She dropped soft kisses on the way down to where his neck met his shoulder and gave a tender lick. A breath caught in his chest and fingers curled against her lower back. Oh, so he liked that. She latched on, sucking at the area.
When he gasped and jutted his hips against hers, she smiled against his skin. “How’s that?”
“Shit, you don’t know what you do to me,” he rasped, placing both hands on the sides of her face, twirling brown strands around his fingers.
As he continued to spoil her with kisses and play with her hair, the gears turned in her head and a surprising thought formulated. If he wanted to pull on her hair, she’d let him do it as hard as he wanted, as hard as he could, to push the limits of her pain. She wanted to be at his mercy.
With all the new things she was discovering about him, she was discovering stuff about herself too.
“What you thinkin’ ‘bout?” he asked, bringing her out of her trance.
She put on what she hoped was her sexy voice. “All the things I wanna do to you. What I want you to do to me.”
It must have worked, because his eyes darkened. Suddenly, he sat up and tore off his shorts. Her own shorts followed soon after and joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor. The curious petting between them came so naturally, progressing until they were greedy to reach the edge and find out what was at the bottom of the fall.
The mood transitioned from exploratory to feverish. She was desperate to minimize the space between them as much as possible until there was nothing left but heat and sweat and a slick mess.
She pushed her torso against his and dragged her hard nipples up and down against his chest as they made out, saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth. Any sort of friction between them spurred her on and the messier they got, the better.
Her pussy quivered onto itself, screaming for something to fill it. She dribbled with lust all over her panties.
“More,” he groaned into her. The command echoed down into her gut and she was happy to comply with his wishes. She shifted positions, laying back and allowing him to fit his body between her legs. To her satisfaction, he grinded down on her.
When his hard cock pushed against her warmth through the thin fabric of their underwear, he couldn’t stop the eager moan that crescendoed far above any noise they had produced thus far. It easily chased away the quiet of her room.
Fuck man. Dial it back a little, he scolded himself inwardly. He gave her a quick kiss to cover up his embarrassment.
She seemed unbothered as she wrapped a hand around him through his boxers and her eyes widened a fraction. “Wow, is this how big they are?” she muttered to herself. She gave him a few experimental squeezes and he struggled to hold back another gratuitous groan, his dick jumping with every pulse of her fingers. He matched her movements, stroking her over her underwear.
“Mmmmh yes,” she panted. “Right there.”
He dove beneath the blanket to drag her panties down to her ankles and she kicked them off the side of the bed.
On his way back up, with the comfort of being hidden under the covers, he gently pushed her knees apart and took a good look at her pussy. The lips were soft and puffy, with her clit peeking through slightly. Cute, just like her. It was like a warm marshmallow fresh from the campfire that he wanted to put on his tongue and let gush in his mouth.
A tentative lick had her crying out. Fuck yeah.
“What are you doing?” She lifted and folded the blanket back over his hair to see him better.
Channeling the confidence of someone who has eaten out a girl before, he looked straight up her face as he gave another long lick over her folds and watched the pleasure swell over her.
“Oh fuck,” she moaned. So this is what it took to get Uraraka to curse like that. Duly noted.
He lapped at her slit and his thumbs stroked over her velvety lips on both sides. She trembled, one hand clutching the sheets next to her. His caresses sent her hips bucking forward hard against his face and the moisture leaking out of her coated his chin and nose.
“Sorry!” She peered down at him and gave a flustered laugh. “Poor blanket,” she said as she used it to wipe him off. “Poor you.”
He came back up to give her another sultry kiss, trying to let her know without words that he didn’t give a fuck. They were both new to this shit anyway.
When he pulled away, she shyly asked, “Wanna… do more stuff?”
His heart hammered against his ribs. Was she talking about what he thought she was talking about? “Oh shit, do you mean…” He looked down between them then back up at her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, please. I want to. I wanna do it so bad.” Her small girlish voice broke him. Whatever she’d ask for in that moment, he’d give it to her and fuck all else.
His passion matched hers, but a loss for words nudged him to hug her instead. He wound his arms around her whole body and pulled her fully against him, from chest to toes. He buried his face into her neck and breathed in. Small arms slinked their way around his waist.
He anticipated slipping himself into her, fucking her into her sheets, getting her to sob in bliss as she came undone. He wanted to give himself to her as she gave herself to him. All of that while enveloped in this blanket that smelled like the lavender shampoo she used. It engulfed him in the essence of her.
If everything in his life was Uraraka Ochako, he would be more than okay with that.
She ducked under the covers and he felt creamy lips leave a trail of mini kisses right above the waistband of his boxers. Damn, she really knew how to get him going. Fingers hooked into his waistband and drew them down. She came back up for air and slingshotted his underwear to the floor.
“Do you have protection?” she asked.
“Why the fuck would I have condoms on me? This wasn’t exactly in my plans for tonight.” He frowned and pouted like a kid being told he wasn’t getting any candy. “Do you have anything?”
“No, but…” She reached for her phone. “Um, I can ask Deku for some?”
He balked at the mere idea. He snatched the phone out of her hand and flung it across the room onto their pile of clothes on the floor. “Fuuuck that.”
“Okay.” They sat in silence for but a moment before she suggested, “Well, you can pull out right?”
His nose flared in surprise. This fucking girl would be the death of him. “Seriously?”
With little resistance from him, she pushed him onto his back and hovered over his still agonizingly hard erection. “Put it in for a little bit. Wanna feel you.”
Her fingers went to the base of his shaft and she guided him towards her. After a few attempts with no success at getting him beyond her opening, she let out a frustrated whine. “Can you help me?”
He smirked up at her. “I’ve been helping a lot tonight.”
“Oh shut up,” she said. He put his hand over hers, holding himself in place at an angle just right for her to sink down onto his head. His groans paired with her sighs of pleasure and pain.
“Ahhhh,” she moaned. “It’s so… Mmmm. Don’t move.”
He stilled himself, a grueling task as her juices combined with gravity helped her oh so gradually bottom out on his length, his balls nicely cushioned by her ass.
“That’s it, yeah? You… Haaah… You just wanted to feel it?” He taunted with a strained voice, struggling his damndest to keep his cool.
She made a small noise of protest. “Let’s keep going. Is that okay?”
“You fucking kidding? More than okay with it.” He shifted his hips beneath her.
“Wait wait wait,” she whimpered and leaned down on his abs, her walls rippling around him. “Don’t. You’re so deep. I can’t.”
“Okay,” he breathed hard, massaging her thighs planted at both sides of him. “Okay okay. It’s so hard. You feel so fucking good, baby.” The pet name slipped out. The way she reacted to it, he had no regrets. She gave him a flirty grin as moisture gathered at the corners of her eyes, so it was clear he must be doing something right.
“I wanna… I need…” She slowly—excruciatingly slowly—pushed herself up by her knees and clenched back down onto him as she lowered herself again. All the while her nails dug into the skin on his torso, branding him with tiny little moon shaped indents.
Sharp breaths exited his nose in bursts as he gritted his teeth. It was a painstaking effort to not completely lose his composure and ferociously pound up into her like the fucking virgin he was.
Her wet walls dragged against him in an act of pure torture. “Fuuuck, can I move yet?”
“Hold on a sec,” she exhaled. “It’s weird. It hurts, but it feels so good too.”
She slowly thrusted a few more times, making these adorable little whimpers the whole way. He decided he deserved a fucking medal for maintaining control as his dick got wet.
Finally (fucking finally!) she let out a small shuddering breath and said, “Yeah, you can move now.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. He supported her at her waist and swiftly rolled them over. She slipped off him but he recovered by plunging himself back into her in one go with a squelch as her arousal sloshed over him. She let out a loud yelp and slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Shit, you okay?” His hands jumped to cradle her face, worried he had hurt her in his enthusiasm.
She snickered into her palm. “Do you have to be a natural at every little thing you do?” She wrapped her arms around his middle.
Hearing her compliment fueled his ego. He smiled and gave her a small peck on her cheek. “My bad. Sorry I’m the fucking best at everything,” he quipped, and followed it up with a hard thrust. She threw her head back into the pillow and hissed as she dug her nails into him.
She placed a palm on his lower back, lightly pushing him in encouragement. “More. Faster, please.”
He set a steady pace, her softness rattling like earthquakes with every buck of his hips. He laid his sweaty forehead onto her shoulder, biting down on his bottom lip. If he had any chance in hell of letting her climax before him, he couldn’t look at her. Not at those beautiful brown eyes, those gloriously round cheeks, those pouty pink lips, or those luscious breasts that bounced with every pump.
But shit, he couldn’t resist her slippery warmth and he was starting to lose control. His tempo picked up and the sounds of their bodies bouncing against each other escalated. The cheap mattress springs beneath them squeaked in time to their rhythm so loudly he was sure the whole floor could hear them if anyone was awake. He hoped against hope that their classmates were dead asleep in bed, none the wiser to their scandalous behavior after dark.
A sharp pain struck at the juncture between his neck and shoulder and he realized it was her biting down, using him like a gag to keep her sounds at a minimum. Her moans vibrated directly onto his skin, sending sparks straight to the bottom of his stomach. Fuck, that felt amazing. He wound his fingers into the back of her hair and held tightly to cope with the sting of her teeth sinking into his skin.
“Yes yes, pull it,” she begged. “Pull my hair.”
He clutched her strands tightly and gave a rough tug, jerking her head back.
“Mmmyesss,” she mewled. “Fuck me harder!”
He recklessly pounded into her, bare skin against bare skin, her sweet fluids getting everywhere. “So… so damn tight!” he expressed with a husky whisper. His hunger for her was a runaway train and not even a downed bridge could derail him. He’d jump the gap if he had to.
Her walls started to pulsate around him. “I’m… I think I’m… so, so close.” She lifted her hips to match his cadence, increasing the pressure between their sexes.
“R-right th-... alm-m-most…” she stuttered. Her fingers went between them to furiously rub at her stiff clit. Suddenly, her back lifted from the mattress. He watched her writhe beneath him against her bed sheets as her orgasm possessed her body. She cried out into the crook of her elbow, her lower half thrashing against him as waves of pleasure washed over her.
Pull out now. Pull out. Fucking pull out, you idiot! What little common sense remained in his head shrieked at him.
With every ounce of strength in his bones, he growled as he willed himself to painfully retract his hips from hers. He grunted loudly as his hand pumped away at his throbbing member with harsh strokes. She laid beneath him with heavy lidded eyes, gaze drifting to where he was jacking himself off, breasts rising and falling quickly with her exhausted puffs. Her twitching legs were still open for him, pussy dark pink and sore from his pounding, and so tantalizingly wet.
What a gorgeous spread she was.
Seconds after, he came. Her eyes stayed glued to him as he groaned and spasmed above her. She jolted at the feeling of his semen hitting her skin. Spurt after spurt, he painted her belly with splotches and streaks of white. Thoroughly spent, he collapsed at her side with his softening cock still in his hand.
“Condoms next time,” he gasped out, breathless from the sex.
After the two cleaned up their mess and redressed themselves, they lazed away in each other’s arms into the early morning hours. They’d definitely be exhausted for class, but the adrenaline of being together still lingered in their systems. After all, awake was the only state in which they could actively enjoy each other, and they couldn’t get enough of the other’s company.
“When do you want to touch me the most?”
She received a curious stare from him. Answering the question herself, she clarified, “Like for me, I want to touch you most during training. When I see you out there I feel… Hmm.”
Her eyes glazed over for a second. She thought about what started all of this – that beautiful, beautiful body of his. The way it flexed with every gloriously colossal explosion. How he glistened in the light of his own making. And the aroma that followed? A smoky sweetness that lingered in her clothes if they were so lucky to be paired up for training. She’d avoid laundry for an embarrassingly long time to keep that scent in her room.
When she realized she had been daydreaming, she snapped back to reality. “Sorry, is that weird for me to think about?” She wore an embarrassed pout.
He ran a thumb over her bottom lip. “I wanna touch you most when you’re eating.”
“Eating?” She dissolved into laughter and rubbed her face against his chest.
“Yeah, eating. You heard me.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, then pinched both of her cheeks. He really liked doing that, she noted. “During lunch. I’ll see you with these things round as fuck from stuffing your face.”
“Hey! What the heck?!” She huffed in annoyance. “That’s not nice.”
“You look really happy. I like it.” He let her cheeks go then rubbed them with the pads of his fingers.
No words came from her except for a small “oh.”
“I wanna be next to you when you’re like that.” Once he confessed it, he avoided her eyes. Like it was hard for him to admit, but he couldn’t help but be honest with her.
“Are you blushing?” she teased.
“Shut the fuck up,” he mumbled, settling into her shoulder. She nuzzled into his hair.
Go figure. The braggadocious explosion hero was also oddly sentimental. It was even (dare she think it?) romantic, a highly unexpected descriptor for her classmate.
And that was the first time Uraraka realized that simply touching Bakugou wasn’t going to be enough for her. She liked hanging out with him. She liked the easygoing banter between them. She liked learning about what went on in that brilliant head of his.
She wanted more from him, and not the more in a merely physical sense. What she craved was the more in the everything else sense. The more that meant infinity and back and all of the things that made her feel alive.
After months of pretending, now she really knew what it meant to fall.
Roll the credits. Cue the music. While I was writing this last chapter, I found the perfect theme song to go with this fic. If you’re curious, check out “Burn Break Crash” by Aanysa (I’m partial to the remix by Lophiile, but the ones by Madison Mars and Party Pupils are good too).
Thank you so much for reading! Kudos are good, comments are great, and talk to me on Twitter if you’re on there! ’Til next time.