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Bakugou slammed into Kirishima as they rounded the corner at the same time. “Whoa! Sorry man.” Kirishima grabbed Bakugou to steady him, and even though this was the exact person he was looking for, Bakugou’s lip still curled and he squirmed away from the touch. He squinted at Kirishima. He was dressed in an ugly old shirt and wearing an equally ugly sweatband, with a bag slung over his shoulder. Bakugou’s mood plummeted even further, catalyzing across his face in a vicious scowl.
“You’re busy.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Kirishima seemed unfazed by his petulance. He was probably used to it. “Yeah, sorry dude! We didn’t make plans did we? Tetsutetsu and I were going to work out.”
Bakugou slouched, anger sparking in his chest. “No, we didn't have plans… whatever.” He didn’t particularly want to spend another night out alone. It was getting a bit pathetic, and he
hated how easy he could read pity on Kirishima’s face. “Maybe Kaminari or Mina is free.” He grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets and made to step around Kirishima before his friend grabbed him again.
The grip was steadfast even as Bakugou cursed and tried to step away. “What the fuck, get off.” He finally managed to lurch away from Kirishima, snarling at his ridiculous, smiling face. “What.” He deadpanned.
“Go talk to Uraraka. I bet she’s free.” Bakugou felt his stomach lurch so hard he couldn’t even find an insult to respond to Kirishima’s wiggling eyebrows with.
“And why the fuck would I want to hang out with that… square?” Kirishima busted into laughter and Bakugou contemplated punching him in the stomach.
“Just tell her that everyone else is busy. And that you’re buying. It’ll be fun.” His smile was a bit more genuine when he waved and walked away toward the gym. Bakugou still regretted telling Kirishima anything personal, and swore to never to it again, before taking his shitty friend’s advice and walking toward her dorm room.
He slammed his fist against her door twice, much harder than he needed to. Barely a second passed before she pulled open her door, and Bakugou prayed she didn’t know that he had been standing there for nearly five minutes. “Hi?” She sounded confused and he clenched his jaw, refusing to admit how cute he found it. She was wearing an oversized, tattered shirt, reaching to her mid thighs. He swallowed roughly.
“Everyone else is busy. Come and get food with me.” She lifted an eyebrow, and for a second he thought she would call bullshit. Uraraka stayed quiet, a little smile on her lips that looked slightly too knowing for Bakugou’s comfort. He rocked on his heels, glaring down the hallway to avoid meeting her eyes. Stupid fucking Round Face, every conversation they engaged in felt like pulling teeth with how god damn stubborn she was. He had never gotten his way with her without a fight first. Didn’t stop him from seeking her out, though. “Come on. I’ll pay.” His eyes were stony when they returned to her.
Her face broke into a full smile, and he breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t drag anything further from him. “Who could turn down free food?” She spun and pulled open her dresser.
“Excuse me? I’m a fucking delight to be around, you’re lucky-” He broke off as she snorted, and tugged off her shirt. Her back was to him, and she was wearing shorts, but he still choked on his words and lapsed into silence. He tore his eyes away from her moments later, examining a poster of some pop idol on the wall, praying his cheeks weren’t too flushed.
“I know. I’m lucky to be in the presence of King Explodo Murder.” He looked back to her, teeth bared in a snarl as she shook her head at him again. Her cheeks held a light flush that forced him into silence again. He stepped out of the doorway of her dorm. “So, where are you taking me?” Her eyes were sparkling a little bit and Bakugou felt his stomach drop in response. His brain was completely empty, flatlining as he watched her hands smooth the striped top, fingers messing with the hem until it sat straight, a bit above her belly button. She laughed, and humiliation burned hot up his spine.
He glared at her and stalked off down the hallway, petulance tempered only by her giggle as she jogged to catch up with him, and those pretty flushed cheeks.
~
Bakugou decided to take her to a night market with bustling stalls. They took the packed train into downtown and it was… fun. A lot of things had changed in the years they had spent together, and the closer graduation loomed, the more fun they had together. Bakugou managed to not creep on her, even when they were pressed chest to chest in the crowd, and Uraraka was funny. Hilarious enough to have him snorting laughs into his bicep to not disturb the tired businessmen around them.
Sweating and happy they climbed out of the train station, rubbing shoulders in the still muggy night as he guided her toward the cramped corridor of the market. The streets were narrow and thick with people, but she didn’t seem to mind being jostled with so many things to look at. Clouds of incense and food smoke wafted around them, twinkling lights strung between stalls swathing them in soft light. Street food greeted them at every step, sweets made in front of their eyes and jewelry or clothing laid out for them to brush their fingers over. Stall owners screamed to get the attention of new customers, young kids darted around their knees, and Bakugou made sure to keep a firm hand on his wallet. It was perfect.
With Uraraka oohing and awing at his side, it was hard to be annoyed with the faceless crowd bumping and shoving him. They devoured everything with their eyes before settling on an okonomiyaki stand. Bakugou managed to elbow his way to the front of the crowd, ordering for both of them. He only stumbled over his words once, when he felt Uraraka’s hand at his back and her fingers hook into his belt loop. He coughed and finished paying, grabbing both of their potato cakes before turning to her.
Her eyes lit up as he handed her the food. “Everything good?” He called over the roar of the mob as he snatched utensils for the both of them.
She pushed up onto her toes, her lips brushing his neck. “Just didn’t want to get swept up in the crowd.” She was practically shouting in his ear, but he could still barely hear her over the pounding of his heart. Chills pickled over his skin as he nodded stiffly. He led her out of the crowd, her fingers in his belt loop the whole way.
They escaped the crowd of people, cool clean air washing over them as they found a bench to sit on. Her hand dropped away from him and he pretended not to be disappointed as he sat next to her. She dug into the food with a groan, and he concealed a smile as he cut his first piece of the fried potato pancake. It was delicious and crunchy and everything he wanted, and still, he found Uraraka’s happiness the most satisfying. He shot a glance at her, catching the glimmer of sweat on her pinkened skin and the slight smudge of her eyeliner after pushing through the crowd. She caught his eye and smiled, and he ignored whatever emotion welled up in his chest in response.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, pretending to ignore the looks they both casted at each other. Bakugou finally spoke. “So, graduation’s coming up.” He played with his food a bit dejectedly until she laughed.
“You’re quite the conversationalist.” He rolled his eyes, but this easy confidence of hers was addicting. He managed to look away from his to-go container to stare at the side of her face instead. She was gnawing on her lip, eyes far away as she tapped her plastic fork against the side of her tray. “I don’t really know. I should be excited but… the future is terrifying.” Her gaze came back into focus, glancing over at him before eating some more of her food.
He gave a start. “Are you serious?” Her eyebrows furrowed. He continued to sputter. “You’re bound to be a fucking great hero, are you shitting me?” She shrugged, and her smile was a bit sad.
“Maybe all that optimism I exude isn’t as real as everyone thinks?” His jaw snapped shut, turning back to his food. It was a sober reminder that even after three years of class together, he still didn’t really know her. She scooted until their shoulders bumped and he nearly dropped his fork. “So, did you hear about Midnight?” He quirked an eyebrow and looked at her mischievous face.
“No?” She launched into the scandalous story and suddenly, it was like they were childhood friends, laughing and telling stories like it was the most natural thing in the world. They finished their food and tossed the styrofoam containers. Uraraka groaned the whole ride home about how full she was. Bakugou was glad to see his money finally well spent.
~
Bakugou woke the next morning to his phone buzzing on the mattress beside him. Sunlight bled lazily through the window, soft rays thrown across his pillow. He debated tossing the phone across the room and going back to sleep, before remembering his attempts at being a good friend, and picked it up. Texts were still filtering in through the group chat he had with Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero and Ashido, along with a multitude of Snapchats from each of them. And at the very bottom of his notification list, there were two texts from Uraraka. He was suddenly much more awake. He ignored the buzzing group chat and opened the texts from Uraraka.
Round Face: hey! i had lots of fun last night
Round Face: we should do it again, when are u free?
Bakugou gaped at the texts, blinking a few times and rereading them at least twice. He took a deep breath before closing the app and opening Snapchat instead. There was no reason for him to have this many messages, he opened it maybe once a week and couldn’t even remember the last time he posted on his story.
He opened a message from Kirishima and squinted. Apparently, the last time he had posted was last night. Kirishima had commented on it with a string of exclamation points. It was a picture of Uraraka, no caption, just her silhouette walking in front of him to the train station. It was a cute photo. But he groaned as he scrolled through the multitude of messages from his friends, excited, teasing or down right obscene from Ashido. Bakugou almost deleted it before he opened the picture again. He stared at it for a few seconds, and knew he couldn’t. Not when it felt so good to show her off.
He returned to his messages, glancing at a few of the previews from the group chat before opening Uraraka’s messages again. He chewed on his lip, thumbs hovering over the keyboard before glancing at her contact name. He sighed and tapped on it, shaking his head at his old self before he changed it.
Uraraka: hey! i had lots of fun last night
Uraraka: we should do it again, when are u free?
bakugou: Tonight.
After a moment of thought, he sent her another message.
bakugou: I’ll buy.
She texted back almost immediately.
Uraraka: who could turn down free food ;)
~
They fell into a kind of routine after that. They went out a few nights a week, getting food and walking around, or once begging a twenty year old to buy them some beer that they drank in Bakugou’s dorm. No matter how many times they went out, he always offered to pay and never even let them split the bill.
While he noticed how she tucked her hair behind her ears, collected scrunchies and loved vintage clothes while she was out of uniform, his long dead social media flooded with her. Whenever he could, he was showing her off. She didn’t seem to mind, even if his friends mercilessly teased him.
Then they started getting coffee early in the mornings, job searching and studying at cute cafes that she loved to take pictures in. Usually it was a miracle if he got up before ten in the morning, but with her it felt easy. Another point of contention among his friends, teasing he endured without much thought.
His phone certainly reached new use as they got closer. There was rarely a moment they weren’t in the middle of a story or sending cute animal pics back and forth. Yet another thing he was yelled at by all his friends about.
Something hit him in the forehead and he sputtered, dropping his phone into his lap. A chorus of laughs rang out, making him scowl as he brushed the french fry onto the ground. Kirishima dared Ashido to eat it, Sero looking on in horror while Kaminari stared at Bakugou. He held back his immediate urge to launch a barrage of curses at him, and instead reached down to turn off his phone.
“What are you looking at?” His mood had taken a dramatic dive, even if Ashido eating the fry off the carpet was pretty hilarious.
Kaminari looked to the side, and shrugged a bit. He still looked puzzled but with his eyes turned away, Bakugou could relax. The rest of the afternoon faded into the background as they fucked around and ate junk food.
~
Bakugou started awake a few days later to someone pounding on the door. He knew who it was, but still rolled over to grab his phone. He was greeted to 11 messages from Uraraka. And with perfect timing he heard a voice from the other side of the door. “C’mon Ka - uh, Bakugou! You better not be blowing me off!” She banged on his door again, and he didn’t have a moment to think about her stutter as he heaved himself out of bed. He yanked open the door, half asleep and dressed in only boxers. His eyes didn’t even focus on Uraraka’s face before he was stepping away to get dressed. “Sorry. Slept through my alarm.”
She didn’t say anything, just stood stock still in the doorway as he peeked out his window. It was barely 10:00 am and the sun was already beating down on the shimmering pavement. He grunted and yanked on a pair of ripped jeans and singlet. His bag was already packed and barely five minutes passed before he was ready to leave. And even if he probably should have showered and the hair on the left side of his head was plastered to his skull, Uraraka still smiled up at him with enough power to knock the wind from his lungs. “You look good.” His brain flatlined again, before he ushered her out of his dorm.
“Bad news.” They stepped out into the sunshine together, his face screwing up at the wall of heat while she just smiled and put her shades on. “We’re gonna have to go to a different cafe today.” Uraraka gasped in mock horror. “I have to go shopping, and there’s a spot next to my favorite thrift store.” Uraraka acquiesced easily, and Bakugou glanced away from where he was finding the right train route on his phone, finding her skin almost luminous in the sunlight, lips full and glossed, hair bouncing around her shoulders - his shoe caught on a crack in the sidewalk and he pitched forward, nearly tumbling to the ground. While Uraraka laughed at him, he flushed scarlet, grumbling at her before shoving his hands in his pockets and swearing not to look at her ever again while walking. It was nearly impossible, especially with his depleted levels of self control.
He managed to keep from tripping again, at least, and they arrived at the cafe before 11:00. It was cuter than he remembered, with good coffee and a mellow atmosphere. He bought her a latte and a black coffee for himself before they grabbed a table. She started to speak, “I feel bad that you’re constantly-”
“Shut up.” He interrupted her without looking up from his phone, and like many times before, the issue of who paid on their excursions was dropped.
He took lots of pictures of her in that minimalist cafe, half of them candids that would join the collection in his camera roll, and half taken on her phone, with poses and smiles and teasing insults from him to get a half decent Instagram shot for her. He flicked through each of them, staring a bit too long at the curves of her lips or the strength in her shoulders. Every moment they spent together made it harder to ignore. The thing that bubbled in his belly when she grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him back to her. Or the roiling emotion in his chest when she clasped her hand around his wrist and tugged him along with her. The magnetism that made him stare at her so intently he nearly bashed his face on a sidewalk.
He sighed and locked his phone, shaking his head at himself as he finished off his dark roast and took a glance at Uraraka. It was ridiculous for him to even dream of having her. As he watched, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and jotted something else in her planner. Absolutely ridiculous. But as she felt the weight of his gaze on her skin, her eyes rose from the paper, head cocking and making strands of her caramel hair brush over her shoulder. She didn’t stare at him with hatred or boredom or anything else that usually made him want to blast someone’s face off. She just looked at him, searching his face, and with her sharp perception, closed her planner and collected her stationery. “Let's go shopping.” It might have been that moment he knew he loved her, when she effortlessly rescued him from the depths of overthinking.
The thrift store was just as dirty and ridiculously stocked as he remembered. It smelled of rotten linoleum and moth balls, strangely comforting as he browsed lazily. Any shafts of sunlight let in through the mountains of clothing and water damaged books, were plagued with dust motes, dancing and spinning even in the hot, stagnant air around them. He had finally thrown out the last of the pathetically edgy clothes he had purchased in his younger years, and his wardrobe was near empty now. He settled into a long day of searching through the racks to fill his closet again.
The task was much less daunting with Uraraka at his side. No matter how many times she sneezed and coughed in the thick atmosphere, or skidded over the slippery tile, she was in high spirits. Even Bakugou’s pathetic fake laughter or grim silence wasn’t enough to dim her smile. He appreciated the company, especially when he was able to shake off his inconvenient realization from earlier. The more time he spent at her side, the easier it was to remember they were friends before anything else. His laughs were more genuine, his attempted glares splintering into smiles quicker, he stopped cringing away from her nails pinching at his arms or her shoulder rubbing against his. An hour into their shopping trip, and it was like nothing had changed.
“I gotta try this shit on.” Uraraka groaned and Bakugou rolled his eyes. A pile of twenty items was quickly reduced to less than ten, and they returned to the racks. Every few feet Uraraka would spot a particularly ugly shirt or pair of pants and hold it up to herself, completing the look with a stupid face. It never failed to make Bakugou laugh.
The second time he returned to the changing room, Uraraka followed him, her own arm full of clothing in tow. Again, his collection was reduced greatly after only a few minutes of trying shit on. Uraraka was still in the changing room by the time he finished, and he made sure to pull out his phone before she debuted the outfit. She came out of the stall with a great flourish, a garish jacket pulled over bright purple corduroys, topped off with a felt fedora and a pair of red platform boots. Bakugou could barely stop laughing long enough to snap a photo.
“Okay, listen, listen.” She ditched the hat and kicked off the shoes, struggling with the garish jacket until she was just dressed in the sheer button up and the pants. “This top? Kind of a look.” He snorted, but found that he had to agree as she turned to the mirror again. It was see-through and black, the edges scalloped with cap sleeves.
He leaned against his cart. “You want it?” He didn’t hesitate, barely thought anything of the offer.
Uraraka started slightly. He wasn’t even looking at her as she debated with herself, fingering the hem as he wrote a witty caption and posted the photo of her to his story. “Uh, well, I’m not sure.”
He was still fucking around on his phone when he spoke. “You look good in it, I’ll buy it for you.” He finally looked up at her, not quite registering the pinched look on her face before she ducked back into the fitting room. She hung most of the clothing onto the rack left outside for them, before handing him the shirt. He tossed it into the cart and counted his own picks. “I’m good, you ready to go?” She nodded, before they went to check out together.
~
Bakugou honestly forgot about the entire interaction until the next day. They left the store and went their separate ways at the dorms, Uraraka mentioning something about seeing Deku and nearly forgetting to grab her shirt from him. He didn’t mind, settling in for a night of studying. That was until Kaminari and Kirishima busted into his quiet atmosphere to get high, claiming that it was easiest to smoke out of his window.
By Monday morning, he didn’t think anything of their thrift store trip, especially when he had to yank his uniform on for his morning classes. Finals were bearing down on all of them viciously, and every class felt excruciating. He was glad to have the afternoon off, grabbing food from the cafeteria before finding a spot to sit outside, hopefully staying alone for a little while longer.
He was in the middle of annotating a passage for English, music blaring in his ears as he tried to pull meaning out of this jumble of Faulkner and not incinerate the paper, when a call of his name penetrated the music. Bakugou sighed and looked up, but instead of one of his shitty friends coming to bug him, he saw Uraraka. It seemed like she was just about to sit down with Deku for her own lunch, waving at him with a bright smile on her face. But he couldn’t compute anything besides the fact that she was wearing the shirt he had bought her the day before.
He couldn’t even manage to wave back at her before she was turning to sit down. He knew he was acting crazy, but he didn’t give a single fuck as he stared at her. Not only was she wearing the shirt he bought her, but she looked fucking amazing in it. He could just barely see the glowing cream of her skin underneath the sheer fabric, and the lines of her bra… If his brain wasn’t mush from reading this stream of consciousness bullshit, it certainly was now. He couldn’t think of anything besides what she was wearing, he could barely pull his eyes away from her for a few moments before they unerringly found their way back to her.
It made him feel a little sick, squirming a bit where he was leaned against the thick tree trunk. He was in the shade but he felt sweat prickling under the collar of his shirt, and he shoved his shirtsleeves up his arms shortly after that. Bakugou wasn’t able to finish his lunch, much less annotate the rest of the passage his final depended on, not when she was sitting in the sun giggling and messing around with her friends in a shirt that he had bought for her. He had no idea why he loved watching the fabric shift over her shoulders, or why he suddenly wanted to buy her everything she could ever want and have her dress in it every single fucking day.
She finished her food and turned toward him. His brain struggled to kick back into drive, hands fumbling to pull his headphones out of his ears before she was kneeling in front of him. “Hey, you busy?” Her eyes were twinkling and his throat felt like it might close up. “I fucking love this shirt. I want to go back to that store. And you’re my guide.” Her lips were quirked crookedly, and Bakugou had no idea how he hadn’t blown apart his book yet.
“Yeah.” His mouth was dry. “Let me get changed.”
~
Their roles were reversed when they got to the thrift store again, with Bakugou following her around like a lost puppy while she browsed to her heart's content. He may have managed to shake off his instinctual shock, settling into being around her, but there was never a moment his eyes weren’t on her. Where the sleeves settled on her arms or how the hem rippled around her hips and showed a little band of skin above the waistband of her shorts. She babbled on about her day as she went through the stock, tucking a few things under her arm as he followed behind her.
A red shirt caught his eye, with long sleeves and a tie at the front. He grabbed it off the rack and held it up in front of her. She was giggling before she actually saw it, expecting something looking like a grandmother’s patterned couch instead of the attractive cropped top. She stared at him while he kept his eyes pinned resolutely on the hollow of her throat. He shoved the hanger toward her. “Try this one too.” Her smile was a bit shaky, but she nodded anyway.
He looked away from her, to the rack opposite and snorted. He grabbed another top, a checkered chartreuse and black t-shirt. “How could you pass this up?” She laughed from between her fingers, and responded by pulling a leather shirt from the back of the section.
“This would look phenomenal on you.” It seemed like no matter how Bakugou managed to make a situation awkward with his ungainly emotions, their friendship recovered it. They always fell back into their normal patterns, teasing and laughing and just enjoying each other.
This shopping trip was shorter, with Uraraka trying on a few shirts and only wanting to buy the red one. She looked phenomenal in the form fitting top, and Bakugou quietly prized himself on the good pick. He stood as she left the fitting room, watching silently as she squinted at the price on the tag and grabbed her wallet. “Let me.” He said, again, with no hesitation, or thought to his earlier emotions about buying her something, even less thought to how she would feel. This time, he was looking her in the face when she recoiled. He mimicked her, jamming his hands back into his pockets as he scowled to the side. “I picked it out. So I should fucking buy it.” He grumbled, feeling like a petulant child as Uraraka leveled a grim look at the side of his face.
“I’ll pay you back.” She said, as she jammed the hanger into the center of his chest.
He shrugged, and turned away from her, just so he didn’t have to look at her as he spoke. “Doesn’t matter either way.” It was true, it didn’t matter. His parents spoon fed him anything he wanted, and a ten dollar crop top wasn’t about to make any sort of dent in the extravagant funds they gave him. It felt better to bleed them dry on Uraraka’s behalf than his own.
He pressed the bag to her chest as they stepped out of the store. She was quiet as he checked his phone and flicked through a few notifications. He knew he should go home and study, but wasn’t quite ready to leave her side. He was about to offer to buy her coffee when she spoke. “You didn’t have to do that. I could have paid.” He glanced at her, finding her eyebrows pinched together, and her lips pressed into a thin line.
“What?” Her hands were clenched so tightly in the plastic bag he thought she might rip it apart on accident. “I know. And I offered to pay, what's the problem?” The plastic creaked and Bakugou sighed. And following the trend of the past few days, he grabbed her chin between his thumb and forefinger without thinking. He dragged her eyes to him, feeling her jaw click as it dropped open. “Don’t get fucking weird about it. It's not a big deal, alright?” His mouth was dry again, and his head felt light as he wondered if he had just made an awful, awful mistake. But surprising her seemed to work to his advantage, and he managed to stun a small nod out of her.
He nodded himself, before his hand dropped away from her face. “Good. I need coffee.”
~
The shit hit the fan three days later. It was a good three days to say the least, with a shameful kind of satisfaction burning under Bakugou’s skin every time Uraraka wore either one of the shirts he bought for her, and their little hangouts continuing as normal. His studying was going well, she seemed confident about her finals, Ashido even managed to snag some beer for him while the rest of them smoked weed in his dorm. But when it rained, it poured, to say the least.
It was truly an innocent habit he had picked up without really realizing it. Whenever he finished studying, he liked to online shop for himself, and it was only logical that he would end up browsing for her as well. It was never really meant to really be for her, just something to keep him occupied while he listened to music. Until he started making separate wishlists for vintage clothing he thought would look cute on her, and went to the women’s section of sites before the men’s. He never really thought about buying anything, not without her permission first at least, after she was so weird about a single shirt.
He only fully realized how fucking weird it was when she burst into his dorm one night. He was sitting at his desk, with his back to the door, browsing a cheap clothing site and flipping through dresses. His lip was curled, every single piece on the site was cheap and ugly, and he was about to close the tab when he heard her shout over the noise in his headphones. He made a strangled cry, slamming his laptop shut and spinning in his desk chair. Uraraka looked completely horrified, and Bakugou ripped his headphones out of his ears.
His heart was thundering in his chest, blood roaring in his ears as anger rushed to the surface of his jumbled mind fastest. “What the fuck are you doing in my dorm?”
She sputtered and took a step back from him. “What in the hell are you doing looking at dresses online?” Her voice was vicious, holding an anger Bakugou had never heard from her. It only stoked his own rage.
“That’s none of your fucking business, Round Face.”
Her laugh was mean and hard. “Wow, good one.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and tension suddenly blanketed them. The room felt hotter than it was, and Bakugou’s palms were sweating. He wiped them on his pants and tried to take a few deep breaths. “You think I’m too poor to afford clothes on my own?” Now it was his turn to sputter, heart leaping to an even higher pace as he shook his head. She didn’t let him get a word in. “Well, you’re fucking wrong. I never fucking asked for anything you gave me. And I sure as hell don’t need your pity.”
She turned on her heel, breathing heavy and shuddering. Rage came off of her in waves and Bakugou wasn’t thinking as he jumped to his feet and grabbed her shoulder. He was lucky she didn’t slam him to the ground, instead, her hand closed around his wrist. His stomach turned as he went weightless, the pressure change making his ears pop. He was lucky she didn’t let go of him and let him float aimlessly around the room. “I just fucking like buying you shit! God, fuck, it has nothing to do with how much money you have.” His voice was shaking and he wanted to punch himself in the face.
The anger slowly leaked from her face, replaced with confusion and wonder as her fingers tapped on his wrist. She laughed nervously and he flushed at the sound of it, eyes slanting to the side. “What, like, some sort of…” She trailed off, another laugh shocked from her mouth. “Like a fucking sugar daddy?”
Bakugou might have been able to salvage this shitshow if he had had his wits about him. He could have played it off, made a bad joke, and maybe he could have stifled any of his romantic feelings for her and everything might have been fine. But he didn’t have his wits about him, and he surely only made everything worse when he stared at her like a deer in the headlights. Her face drained of color, before she blinked, letting go of his wrist and sending him floating before she backed toward the door. She tripped over herself, mumbling an apology before dropping him to the ground and fleeing from the room.
He laid on his carpet for a while, groaning into it and nursing the pain in his ribs as he sucked in ragged breaths. He never would have admitted to laying on his floor for a half hour struggling with overwhelmed tears, before dragging himself into bed and falling asleep fully clothed.
~
He proceeded to not leave his bed for three days. He dragged his study materials onto it, settled in, and pretended like he wasn’t missing several very important classes. It was easy to pretend when he realized Uraraka was in them, and he wasn’t quite ready to face that humiliation. The only person he could stand in his space was Kirishima, and even then it was only to drop off food and water. Any of his attempts to coax Bakugou out from under his blankets, and into a shower or back to class, were met with death glares and crackling palms. It was a benign existence. He ignored his phone for as long as he could, before he cleared his notifications and started checking it obsessively. He spent hours into the night flicking through pictures of Uraraka, scrolling through her social media and his own. It made him sick to think that if she could see him, she would think he was a freak.
His friends tried to cheer him up, and failed. He figured he could spend at least another four days holed up in his room until he needed to go back to class, maybe at that point facing her wouldn’t be too bad. It was complete bullshit, but at least, the thought got him to sleep each night. Sleep was fitful at best, or full of nightmares that left him sweating through the sheets at his worst. At one point, he contemplated asking Kaminari to roll him a joint just to see if he could calm the fuck down for a few minutes. He never managed to send the text.
After three days of laying in his bed, muscles knotting together and joints aching, he finally got up to take a shower. Kirishima caught him on his way to their communal bathroom, but didn’t attempt to interact more than a smile. The hot water worked wonders on his tangled hair and aching back, and feeling clean made him calmer. Changing into fresh clothes was just as good. He toweled off his hair as he flicked through his phone, climbing the stairs back up to his dorm. He shook the blond locks out of his eyes, turning the corner and coming face to face with Uraraka.
They both stood stock still, her eyes wide and his body feeling like it was trying to tear itself apart. He balled the wet towel in his fist, keeping his palm from igniting as he attempted to smile at her. Her blank face told him it was more of a grimace. Bakugou slipped around her, eyes stinging and heart thundering as he shoved his fluffy hair out of his face. He took the stairs two at a time, and had nearly disappeared around the corner before she called up to him. “I didn’t take you for a depressed hermit.” His hand tightened around his phone, eyes sharp as he stared down at her. “I expected my door to be blown off its hinges.” She was teasing, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.
His lip curled and he looked away from her, shaking his head at himself. “I have a bit more self control than that.” He saw her tilt her head in his periphery, arms crossed, eyes raking over him. She was examining him. “I’m not interested…” words escaped him, and he grinded his teeth for a moment. “I’m not interested in forcing you to do anything.” He forced his eyes back to her just fast enough to see hers snap away. He felt sick.
She shrugged. “Who said you would be?” In the stairwell, the soft whisper seemed to echo around him, until it was all he could hear. His jaw was hanging open, and she was smiling at him, it was a smile that made her eyes sparkle. The air was punched from his lungs. It was the look that he had wanted on him so badly for the last three days. “Come back to class. I don’t want to see you fail any of your finals.” And with that she was gone. Bakugou was left to slouch against the wall, eyes unfocused as he replayed the interaction a few times, before he managed to climb the rest of the stairs and return to his dorm.
He had been expecting a text from her that night, and he didn’t get one. But he was able to read through the accumulating texts in the group chat, and he responded to a few lingering Snapchats. More importantly, he slept a full eight hours without waking up once, and attended all his classes the next day. Uraraka flashed him a smile when he came through the door, making his cheeks light with red that made Kirishima waggle his eyebrows and elbow him in the side, and everything was normal again.
Maybe not so normal, when Uraraka stared at him for the majority of the day. Her eyes felt hot on his skin, trails left on the sides of his face and the back of his neck from the intensity of her gaze. For their first class together, it made his stomach turn. It was like the night before in the stairwell all over again, getting examined with an unsettling accuracy. He thought she was trying to peer into him, gauge his thoughts, and maybe even use them against him. He snapped two pencils and nearly burst a pen during those initial hours together.
But once he managed to catch one of those gazes she laid upon his skin, he realized that she had no intention to dissect him. Her eyes were slanted to the side, elbows on her desk, crumpling the papers she had spread out. When he looked to her, she didn’t flinch away, eyes still roaming over his chest and down his body, even if her cheeks did pinken slightly. His jaw dropped, eyes shooting around the room, before returning to her. The tip of her pen was balanced against the open pout of her mouth, tapping against her bottom lip. He felt his own mouth go dry, gripped by vertigo as he wondered if he was trapped in another one of his dreams without realizing, to awake drenched in sweat with his heart aching. But each time he looked away and back to her, she was still staring at him, teeth pinching at the plastic cap of her pen.
He didn’t mind her gaze so much after that, even if he felt like he drew his first full breath all day after class and locked away in his dorm. Her confidence and intensity was addicting and nearly overwhelming. He did his best to pretend like it didn’t happen, locking his expectations away as he tracked down Kirishima.
His friend was certainly relieved to see him, spirits high as they tracked down the rest of the gang and left campus. The sun was setting as they rampaged through the city, Bakugou’s mood lifted for the first time in days, mind drawn away from Uraraka and into his friends. They hollered and smoked, sipping on luke warm beer and rolling around in grassy parks. Ashido flashed a couple of dog walkers, making Kaminari laugh so hard he pissed his pants, while Bakugou filmed Kirishima ambushing Sero with a tongue down his throat. It was a good night, a reminder of everything he had to look forward to. Of course, they made him tell the whole story of Uraraka while the temperature dropped and the stars started twinkling above them. He was slightly buzzed, so it was more acceptable when his eyes started prickling a bit. Their only responses were slightly sad smiles, and Ashido cracking open two beers and cheersing him. “To girls that put us through the wringer!” He finished his in one gulp while they all cheered him on.
Kirishima was the sober supervisor on this outing, a miracle in itself, and he deposited Bakugou back into his bed a little before 2:00 am. He knew he would be suffering in the morning if the light of his phone felt like a spike driven between his eyes, and he could barely keep the room from spinning long enough to check his notifications, but for the moment, everything felt okay. More than okay. Quite amazing in fact.
Lethargy weighed heavy on his bones, even if his blood felt hot and brain a bit fuzzy. His eyes drooped and fell half shut, breathing leveling out until he was dozing, phone still cradled in front of his face. It buzzed three times in rapid succession, flashing enough to pull him out of his stupor. He was only fully awake once he realized the messages were from Uraraka. He squinted at the blurry phone, just barely managing to open the texts.
Uraraka: you should uh
Uraraka: you should buy this, for me, maybe
He had to reread the texts twice and stare at the website name for a few minutes, before he could open the link. It was a cheap set of lingerie, all black and lacy and strappy and blurring in front of his uncooperative eyes. Alcohol and adrenaline made it easier to order the set without thinking, putting in the address to his dorm and struggling to enter in the number of his card a few times before paying an extra five dollars for expedited shipping.
bakugou: It’ll be here in two days.
~
The shipping was reliable, but the two days that passed between her messages and the nondescript package arriving at his door, were nearly excruciating. Her heated looks from under her eyelashes casted toward him in class, their general awkward distance, and her fucking social media were all out to kill him.
Ashido was the first one to mention it while they were laying around in her dorm room. He watched her scroll past a post, furrow her eyebrows, and scroll back to it to examine it further. “Is… Is Uraraka an Instagram thot now?” Bakugou choked and coughed, something Ashido seemed unconcerned with as she turned her phone to him. The picture didn’t help with the choking situation. He wrangled the coughing in and drank some water, before grabbing the phone and staring at the post. She was wearing the red shirt, of course she was, her tits on display as she kneeled in front of a graffitied wall. Hair mussed, makeup smeared, form fitting pants showing off the curve of her ass, taken from the perfect angle. He was nearly drooling.
Ashido snatched her phone back, shaking her head at the picture. Bakugou picked at the threads of her pink rug, eyes unfocused as he realized shitty Deku had probably taken that photo for her. The thought filled him with such unimaginable rage and jealousy that Ashido’s rug started smoking. She kicked his hand away from it before muttering under her breath, “That girl needs to get fucked.” He flipped her the bird at her pointed look and stormed from the room.
If he thought that level of blue balls was bad, it was nothing like when the package arrived at his door and he decided to leave it up to her. He didn’t even get to open it and see the set in person before he was writing a quick note on the packaging and dropping it off at her door. And hearing nothing of it for another few days. It was agony, knowing she had that, that he had done what she had asked and earned no more of her attention for it. Most of those few days were spent laying face first on the floor of whatever room his friends ended up in, groaning into the carpet while Kirishima patted his back comfortingly.
He thought his heart was going to jump out of his chest each time someone tapped on his door, only to have Sero or Kaminari call to him to get ready to go out. It was near midnight when someone knocked on his door, and then stayed quiet on the other side. He slammed his laptop shut, eyes glued to the door as his heart thundered sickeningly between his ribs. None of his friends called to him, but another knock came, a bit surer this time. He scrambled out of his bed, tripping twice on the way to the door, palms crackling as he yanked it open. And there she was.
It didn’t matter that she was wearing a baggy shirt and a pair of dirty sweatpants, he knew what was under the old clothes, and it was enough to make his mouth dry. “You gonna let me in, or gawk like an idiot?” She was shooting for a lazy drawl but instead landed somewhere nervous, with her voice shaking.
He still stepped out of the doorway for her to step inside. Her fingers knotted in the hem of her shirt, rubbing her thumb over the worn edge of it. She showed no inclination to speak to him, or even look up from where her bare feet were pressed into the carpet. His blood was rushing in his ears, blocking out all other noise as he stepped toward her. Their height difference was exaggerated this close, the top of her head brushing under his chin as he carefully set his hands on her shoulders. “You seem nervous.” His voice was too rough, sounding close to anger as he rubbed down her arms. “Can I kiss you?” She didn’t seem put off by it, if her quick spin to grab his shirt and tug their lips together meant anything.
The kiss was quick and rough, his hands hovering in front of her chest as she kept him hunched over her. Time smeared apart and snapped back together, his bodily functions only back under his control once she broke the kiss. His lips felt swollen, stinging from little nips of her teeth. Her hands flattened against his chest, warm and steadier than her voice had been earlier. “Undress me, won’t you?” He managed to open his eyes, giving a jerky nod before he dropped to her feet.
The knock of his knees against the floor seemed deafening, even with the carpet to soften it. The pain didn’t even register as his hands skimmed up the outside of her thighs to hook into the waistband of her sweats. His breath was tinny, and too loud for the hushed silence that had leaked throughout his room. Her hands cradled his skull, scratching through his locks and breaking the clumps of gel. Reassuring him, even as his tongue lolled from his mouth like a dog and he nearly yanked her underwear off along with the sweats. She stepped out of them for him, patient as his fingers rubbed over the fabric and her soft skin alike, reverent and lost in her body.
It was only when he leaned forward to press his mouth against her, that her finger pressed into the center of his forehead. “The top too, Katsuki.” Her voice was low, and smooth, her footing found after her earlier moment of bumbling. His given name made the air feel electric all around him, hands trembling as they reached around to cradle her ass, fingertips rubbing against the lace. She was smiling down at him, a gentle, commanding air swathing her and making him feel weak. This was what he had needed, her approval, her assurance, her everything. He slipped his hands up her back and slowly pulled the shirt over her head.
Uraraka’s hair fluffed out around her face, slightly mussed. His hands slid into it next, the silky strands slipping through is fingers just like he knew it would from the hundreds of times he had stared at it before. He pressed their foreheads together as her hands found his hips, dragging him to her until his knee was practically between her thighs. They held each other like that for a few moments, limbs tangled and eyes feasting upon each other, before her hand pressed on his lower stomach and broke them apart.
“Here’s how this is going to work.” His hands fell limp at his sides, eyes wide and adoring as she guided him back to sit on the bed. “You’re going to buy me things,” her eyes flicked to the side, like she wasn’t quite so fond of the idea, “and I’m going to give you the best orgasms of your life in return. Along with my love and devotion.” Her eyes slanted to the side again, as if he didn’t want all of that just as much as she.
He exhaled shakily. “Hell fucking yes.” She giggled, and he broke into a smile, all remaining uncertainty fading away around them. His hands curled around the edge of his mattress, staring at her as she bent over, tits spilling over the edge of her bra as she spread his knees.
“And I’m not going to fucking call you daddy.” Her face was devilish, and if he wasn’t in love with her before, he surely was now. He bobbed his head stupidly, earning another fond laugh from her lips before she gracefully lowered herself onto her knees.
Bakugou’s eyes nearly bugged out of his skull, hands springing from the mattress to grab Uraraka’s wrists. Her face dropped, fingers forced to stop their slow ascent over his inseam. She squinted up at him, hands settling heavy on the insides of his thighs. He swallowed roughly, trying to ignore how painfully hard his cock was just from such little attention. “What?” She didn’t seem angry, maybe just a bit annoyed that he had denied her what she wanted.
He coughed, sweaty hands springing away from her wrists. He could feel how hot his cheeks were, eyes darting around the room to look anywhere but her. “Nobody’s ever…” She laughed, leaning forward to press her forehead to his knee as her fingers found the opening of his jeans.
“Nobody’s ever blown you, you mean?” Her shit eating grin was enough to have uncomfortable anger and humiliation burning under his skin. Lust quickly scorched that away as she yanked his jeans down his thighs. She hummed, leaning forward to press her cheek against the inside of his thigh as she stared at his straining cock. It probably should have weirded him out more than it did, her eyes dark and molten while staring at him. “It’ll be an honor to give you, your first blowjob.” He snorted and shook his head, the noise sounding a bit choked as she reached out to grab his dick.
Her teasing dropped off as soon as she got her hand around him, rubbing him through his briefs. It was pathetic how desperate for it he was. His fingers knotted in the sheets on either side of his hips, teeth grinding as he fought the urge to fuck up into her warm palm. He felt like he was fifteen again, nearly creaming his shorts from a pretty girl in lingerie for him. His breathing was ragged, eyelids fluttering as he tossed his head back. He could feel her breath washing over his skin, hot and damp in a way that made his brain stretch thin to comprehend every sensation. Then her head turned, lips pressing soft into his skin, and his brain short circuited. His cock jerked hot in her palm, beads of pre-come soaking into his briefs. She laughed again, and humiliation made his pleasure grow barbs, nerves prickling as she spoke again.
“Just don’t come too fast. I wanna taste you, but I still wanna ride you tonight.” His eyes snapped open, head lolling forward to see if she was being serious or not. Her face was flushed, the pink spotting down her chest over the swell of her tits. Lips open and plush, eyes blown wide and desire seemingly written in script across her every movement. She was dead serious. “Alright?” She purred, tongue flicking across her lips.
His face screwed up, a pathetic little whine worming its way from between his lips and he came. His thighs squeezed around her shoulders, head thrown back and body twitching as he soaked his briefs through with ropes of come. Normal groans and moans were instead pathetic whines and whimpers, chest heaving and brain misfiring as he attempted to say, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry.” Over and over.
He collapsed against the bed, overheated and sated, humiliation rushing over him in a wave as his chest heaved. Bakugou threw an arm over his eyes, unable to face the girl he just invited into his bed and disappointed so entirely. He rubbed his eyes, trying to catch a breath as he said again, “I’m so sorry. That’s so fucking humiliating.”
Bakugou had expected at least a little bit of teasing, but Uraraka didn’t say anything. One moment, she was splayed between his knees, reeling from the fact he had, in fact, come in his underwear like a prepubescent boy, and the next she was straddling his stomach. Her hand curled around his wrist and tugged his hand away from his face, lips finding the edge of his jaw as she dragged her cunt against him. “Don’t be. That was pretty fucking hot.” He choked on his saliva, grabbing the backs of her thighs as she grinded against him.
Her thumb hooked under his chin, shoving his head back so she could lick and suck at his throat. Uraraka’s breath was heavy, huffing into his ear as she got off on his pathetically quick finish. His head was spinning, not quite able to get enough air into his lungs as one of her hands left him to shove into the front of her panties. She loomed above him like a benevolent goddess, lips quirked and parted slightly, hair messy as her fingers worked away inside of herself. He couldn’t think of the last time he had seen something as beautiful as her. “Let me…” He reached out for her, and she smacked his hand away, a breathless little laugh leaving her.
“If I wanted you to finger me, I would ask. Just enjoy the show, baby.” He swallowed, nodding mutely as she smiled and cocked her head. And enjoy the show he did, feeling his cock throb with every single little moan she let him hear, every slick noise her fingers coaxed from herself. She came quickly, face screwing up and body nearly pitching forward before she braced herself on his sternum, riding her fingers to her completion, before letting him feel her full weight.
Her hair stuck to his chest, her lingerie scratched against his skin, and they reeked of sweat and sex in the hot room. Bakugou couldn’t have asked for anything more. His fingers followed drips of sweat down her spine, tangling in her hair and keeping them pressed together until he thought their skin would fuse permanently. “It's good to know you think I’m hot enough to come in your pants for me.” Uraraka broke the silence, to which Bakugou groaned and flicked the side of her face.
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?” He looked down to where her chin was digging into his sternum and she stared at him. Her lips stretched into a smile before she shook her head. “Bitch.” He poked her in the side and earned a giggle. His hand returned to the side of her face, smearing his sweat there and making her lip curl. “I’d still like to take that ride.”
She rolled her eyes and reached down to grab his cock. His knee jerked from overstimulation. “Oh yeah? You already ready to go.” He breathlessly cursed her until she let go of him, giggling like the devil herself. “Don’t worry you’ll get a ride eventually.” She sat up, hands pressing to his ribs as she rolled her shoulders. “In the meantime, you should buy a strap on, and some lube.” He tried to pretend like his cock didn’t ache at the thought as he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her into his bed.