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Bakugou straightened his tie in the mirror, staring himself down. After today, he was a married man. Which he’d known, he’d known since he’d signed the documents with Ochako, but it felt different now. He was living with her, seeing her early in the morning when her hair was messed up and sleep still clouded her eyes. He saw her at night when she was growing tired, dressed in her pajamas and sitting with him on the couch.
He felt like he’d kissed her countless times and yet somehow he hadn’t kissed her nearly enough. Someone like Ochako should be kissed all day long if she wanted to be.
He shook himself. He’d gotten soft, forgotten what this was about. He and Ochako were higher in the ranks than they’d ever been, and that was the whole point. Being with her could skyrocket him right to the top, maybe even number one. Then he could finally spit in that nerd’s face and get the girl and the dream.
Bakugou Katsuki was about to have it all.
“Hey, man! How’s it going?” Kirishima burst into the room, grinning widely. “Ready to tie the knot?”
A small explosion lit from Bakugou’s palm in his surprise and he turned to Kirishima, glaring. “You idiot! Knock!”
“Sorry.” Kirishima stepped back outside, shit eating grin on his face as he knocked on the door. “Can I come in, Mr. Bakugou?”
“I hate you.”
“You don’t.” Kirishima entered the rest of the way, shutting the door behind him. “Seriously, though, you good?”
Bakugou finished straightening his tie. “I’m fine. That old hag finally left me alone, so I can relax.”
“So you’re nervous?”
“Never fuckin’ said that.”
“Aw, you’re nervous!” Kirishima cocked his head to the side. “Look, I know you still think this whole thing is just for money, or success, or whatever the hell else, but… I’ve been watching you and Ochako.”
“You’re a creep.”
“Man, listen to me!” Kirishima sighed, frustrated. “I think you really care for Ochako. The paparazzi sees it, I see it, we all see it. It was easy for you guys to convince everyone that you were already dating and halfway in love. Don’t you think that might be because you are?”
Bakugou was quiet for a moment. He’d admitted to himself weeks ago that he was in love with Ochako. She’d completely captured him more than any other woman he’d been with - and Bakugou had, he was a little ashamed to say, been with a lot of women. Now he wouldn’t be able to, but he also sort of didn’t want to.
“I’m not in love with Cheeks.”
“You are though.”
“I’m not.”
“Are too.”
“Am not!”
“Boys!” Mina waltzed into the room, peach colored dress swirling around her legs. She was absolutely glowing, taking all of her bridesmaid’s duties very seriously. “Please don’t argue anywhere the bride might hear.”
“Sorry,” Kirishima winced. “We’re trying to work out Bakugou’s jitters.”
“I don’t have fucking jitters!”
“Aw!” Mina clapped her hands together. “You’re nervous! That’s okay,” she stepped closer, cupping her hand around her mouth. “Chaks is nervous too.”
Bakugou blinked. “Why the fuck is she nervous?” He couldn’t stop himself from thinking that she might be having second thoughts about the whole thing. She was young, attractive, desired. He was sure any man in Japan would commit an actual murder to be in his shoes, and he wasn’t even sure that he would be able to blame them if they did. He couldn’t really tell her that, though. He could tell he kept hurting her, even when he didn’t mean to. He probably wouldn’t fare better in an actual relationship with her.
Mina sobered at his question. “She’s getting married to someone she loves a lot. It’s normal to be nervous for something like that.”
“She’s-” Bakugou cut himself off and clenched his jaw. He knew that Ochako was just a better actor than him. She wasn’t in love with him. She might think that she liked him, to a certain extent, but she wasn’t in love with him. They slept in separate bedrooms, and yes, he’d gotten to touch her, and he’d let her touch him, and he felt selfish but it wasn’t enough.
Maybe someday he could muster up the courage to tell her.
He had all their lives, after all.
Mina’s eyes softened and welled up with sympathetic tears. “Oh, no. You’re afraid she has cold feet, don’t you?” She approached him and threw her arms around his neck, ignoring when he tried to pry her off of him.
“It’s not that, I promise!” She exclaimed. Bakugou looked to Kirishima for helped, who did nothing but grin at him. Some best friend.
After several long, damp minutes where MIna cried all over him and he fought against her powerful hug, he was separated from her and was straightening himself out again. “I’m not fuckin’ worried about her leaving me at the altar! She wouldn’t fuckin do that.”
“Course she wouldn’t!” Kirishima smiled, clapping his hands together. “Paparazzi’s out there though, trying to get a glimpse of both of you.”
“Had a feeling.”
“So we’ll switch cars on the way to the reception.”
“Cool.”
“I’m driving, I think Sero’s coming in our car-”
“Don’t fucking care.”
Mina slipped out of the room, dabbing her eyes. She was probably headed back to wherever Ochako was, Bakugou reasoned. He wondered what she looked like. He hadn’t seen the dress, and she’d mentioned off hand that her parents and Mina were really the only ones she had shown before the wedding at all. So no one else had seen it. They’d all be looking at it for the first time.
He’d be looking at it for the first time.
“Look, man, I know you’re nervous, but you don’t have to be an asshole.”
“I’m not being an asshole. I just don’t care who drives with us.”
Kirishima muffled a sigh. “Are Mika and Aoi coming?”
“Of fucking course they are. They wanna make sure neither of us run out on this damn thing.”
“You signed all the papers. Even if you backed out today, you’d have to get married tomorrow.”
Bakugou had to acknowledge, but only privately, that he was right.
The closer the wedding actually got, and the more his mother fussed over him and his father tried to hide big, dramatic tears, the more nervous Bakugou got. Kirishima had given him a towel to wipe his hands with, since it wouldn’t be great for him to literally blow up on his wedding day.
“There might be a villain attack,” he protested as Kirishima walked with him up to the altar. “And then what, huh? All you fuckers are here.”
“Dude, it’s taken care of,” Kirishima glanced over at him. “Don’t worry so much. You’re getting married today, to a really cute girl that you actually like a lot. Just enjoy that.”
Bakugou clenched his jaw. “If she had it her way we wouldn’t be.”
Kirishima gave him a disbelieving look. “Sure, Bakugou.”
Mitsuki came up to pat him down and make sure that he looked acceptable to her before her husband corralled her back to her seat.
Bakugou clasped a hand over his wrist in front of himself, not sure exactly what he was supposed to do until Ochako came up the aisle. He assumed she would want him to cry when he saw her, or something. Her presence had never caused tears in him, so he wasn’t sure how an actual lover would react to her.
But he wasn’t her lover.
He’d gone down on her, and he had enjoyed it quite a bit. In his experience with women (Which was quite wide, he admitted to himself), he had never enjoyed it quite that much . She had been vocal and grabby and he was getting turned on just thinking about it so he had to start thinking about something else.
Maybe, if he was really lucky, and God decided to let him fucking have soemthing for once in his life, she’d let him do it again.
The wedding procession started, and Bakugou forced himself to pay attention to the girls who walked down the aisle with his groomsmen, pausing when Mina made a face up at him. He frowned at her, but she just giggled, walking to stand up with the rest of them.
When the music shifted, Bakugou’s eyes were immediately drawn to the back of the room. There stood Ochako, in a cupcake dress that his stupid mother had made for her, and she looked fucking perfect, and maybe she was standing with her dad, he couldn’t see anybody but her.
She was glowing, and she didn’t look nervous at all. Bakugou swallowed hard, trying not to make it look obvious that he was absolutely awestruck by the way she looked. He glanced over at Kirishima, who was offering him a shit eating grin in return. Bakugou squinted at him and returned his gaze back to Ochako.
She reached the bottom of the step, and Kirishima elbowed him violently in the side. Oh. Bakugou reached a hand out for her, trying to force down a grimace at the feeling of her touching his hand. She stepped up and offered a beaming smile back to her father before settling in next to him, her dress crushed up against the side of his leg.
“You look really nice,” her quiet voice reached him, touched by something that sounded shy of all things.
Uravity, the woman who could bring down the sky with five little fingertips, sounded shy.
“So do you,” he grumbled back, realizing that what she had said sort of required a response from him.
“Your mom made a stunning dress,” she continued, smoothing the front of the gown.
He followed the motion, trying hard not to make a big deal out of swallowing hard. He settled on saying snidely, “She made it for you, of course it is.”
Before Ochako could respond or he could kick himself for saying something stupid, the officient started speaking. Bakugou had a hard time focusing, when Ochako’s hand was pressed into his, and he was trying so hard not to cover her palm in explosive sweat. If he blew her up on their wedding day, that would be bad for his ranking.
They recited vows to each other, and Bakugou couldn’t stop his mind from chanting Fake, fake, fake as he promised to have and to hold her for the rest of their lives. He’d be there for the rest of her life, sure. Against her will. And he wouldn’t have her or hold her.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Fuck, how had he missed the whole thing? He was facing Ochako now, staring down into her big brown eyes, both of her hands in his. The weight of the wedding ring was heavy on his left hand, and suddenly he couldn’t be holding hers anymore. With another heavy swallow, he brought his hands up to cup her cheeks, before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her lips. He kept it professional, refusing to deepen it even if she tried, but when he pulled away he felt her lean towards him just a bit.
“Can we get drunk at the reception?” she asked, just above a whisper.
He let out a long whoosh of breath as he dropped his hands from her face. “I fuckin’ hope so, Cheeks.”
***
They were ushered through the wedding portraits, both with their wedding photographer and the paparazzi, and Bakugou could no longer count on two hands how many times they had kissed by the end of it. He felt almost violated by the amount of time someone had snapped their picture and then given them a thumbs up. Ochako stayed near to his side, and he couldn’t tell if that was because she wanted to or if it was because she simply felt obligated.
His mother dusted powder over his face one more time before he and Ochako were bundled into the back of a car to be driven to the reception. Bakugou firmly planned on keeping the silence up the entire time they were driving, but Ochako wanted to ruin it.
“Married,” she said softly. He glanced over and saw that she was staring down at her rings.
Now what the fuck was he supposed to say to that. He leaned back in his seat, forcing himself to look casual. “Uh huh,” he said, glancing out the window.
“How do you feel?” She looked at him, and he could feel her stupid, big ass eyes on him.
He lifted a shoulder, trying to stay casual. “Fine, I guess. I had Kirishima talking my ass off all morning.”
“What did he say?”
He looked back at her. “None of your business.”
She made a face at him, leaning back in her seat. “Fine. Be that way.” She looked out the window. “There were a lot of people out there.”
Bakugou snorted. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had his picture taken so many times. “Yeah. Cause it’s not their business. That’s why they like it.”
“Um. I thought the whole thing was that it is their business, to push us to the top?”
His gaze snapped back to her again. “Yeah. Still nosy.”
He heard a little sigh escape her. “Still nosy.”
At the reception, they were introduced as a married couple, and Bakugou stood to the side as Ochako danced with her father. He almost felt like he owed him an apology. He waned her to be happy, and she’d never be happy with him.
Mr. Uraraka passed his daughter off to Bakugou, who took her into his arms as though he might break her. It was a crazy thought, considering he’d hurled her into the air countless times for combo moves, and he knew that she could take hit after hit and get back up with a smile on her face. She felt the most fragile in that big pink dress.
“You could pretend to have a good time,” she whispered to him, and he knew she was kidding, but he still stared down at her unblinking..
“I’m having a great time.”
“Tell your face that.”
He furrowed his brows at her. “It’s taking a lot of focus to keep my palms from fucking exploding on you. Is that what you want?”
She cocked her head to the side, looking unblinkingly up at him. “Obviously not. You have nice hands though.”
What the fuck. He glanced at his hand. “I what?”
“You have nice hands.” She held up their joined hands in front of his face. “They’re a little rough because of your quirk, but they’re nice.”
“Uh…” He kept moving with her, but wasn’t sure how to respond. How could he? It was a nice compliment, but a weird one. Did she have a hand kink or something. “Thank you.”
He suddenly felt the need to pull her closer, to thank her or just to have her nearby. His mind was racing, and he had a feeling that his brain would actually catch up with the whole day later. Probably way later, when he was at work and wouldn’t be allowed to have a mental breakdown about it. Or when a reporter would ask about his relationship with Uravity. It was stupid, the whole thing was stupid and he wanted to go home.
She slipped away from him after the dance, and Bakugou grumbled to himself, heading back towards Kirishima. He grinned and handed him a drink, which Bakugou immediately took a sip of. It was strong. Good.
“That looked like a nice conversation,” Kirishima observed, rocking back on his heels. “She’s really excited.”
“It’s just cause it’s a party and she’s a girl.”
“Dude, that’s so sexist.”
“No, I mean - girls fuckin like parties. They like dressing up and dancing and stuff. Mina’s doing the same shit.”
“Some guys like parties too!”
“Well I don’t.”
“It’s for you, so you should wipe that sour look off of your face.”
Bakugou looked over at his friend. “I’m tired, Kirishima.”
Kirishima’s face softened at the use of his given name. “I still think you should tell her how you feel.”
“Fuck no. That would never be helpful. She’d just be all pissed that I made it awkward.”
“Or! She likes you back. You somehow never consider that.”
“Do you know how weird all this is?” Bakugou said through gritted teeth. “She’s Deku’s ex, I’ve known her since we were fifteen.”
“Dude, she hasn’t been Deku’s ex since you guys exploded all over the tabloids,” Kirishima laughed. “And it really doesn’t look like she’s into him anymore.”
Bakugou’s head whipped around, and he saw where Deku had scooped Ochako up into a hug. He squinted at the action, making sure Deku’s hands stayed where it was appropriate, that he didn’t linger too long on the lines of her waist. It wasn’t that he thought Ochako would ever go back to that idiot - the opposite, actually. But how could Deku let someone like her slip through his fingers and be okay with it?
“See, dude? You’ve got that jealous glint.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“You don’t like that he touched her.”
“He has no fucking business touching her. I just married her.”
“Oh?” Kirishima waggled his eyebrows. “So are you gonna touch her?”
Bakugou felt heat crawl up the back of his neck. He always seemed to say the wrong thing around Kirishima, the thing that would get him to make some sort of gross joke to embarrass him. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, refusing to let Kirishima see him sweat.
“Of fucking course not.”
Kirishima sighed. “You guys are still in separate bedrooms?”
“Of course we are. Where the fuck else would I be?”
Kirishima gave him the most snide expression Bakugou had ever seen on him, and opened his mouth, presumably to say something else that was gross, but before he could, Sero rammed into his side.
“Whoa! Sorry! There’s our married man,” he chuckled, extending a glass of champagne in a toasting motion. “You guys are a really hot couple, you know that?”
“Shut the fuck up, Tape Face.”
“Ooh, ouch,” Sero winced playfully, clutching at his heart. “Went straight for the throat with that one, Bakugou.”
“Tch,” Bakugou took another long drag out of his drink and watched Ochako flit around the room. Her cheeks were rosy and she was greeting everyone with wide open arms. Bakugou didn’t feel very much like socializing, and if he was honest with himself, he wouldn’t mind socializing with her. Ochako had always had a knack for making hero events bearable, and since they were hero partners, they were often expected to attend together regardless of what their current situation was. She had always been fun to hang out with, at the very least.
But it was more than that, and as Bakugou watched her exchange warm words with Ponytail, he realized that he wished to be at her side. Not even speaking, or participating in the conversation. Maybe just listening to her.
That would be enough. It usually was.
She floated up to him about a half hour later, face flushed from the alcohol so she almost matched her dress. She smiled up at him, spinning in a circle before reaching her hands out to him.
“Dance with me!”
He furrowed his brow. “I did the first dance with you!” Didn’t that fill his dancing obligation? Surely he wasn’t expected to do that again. The idea of holding her was nice, though, it wasn’t something he necessarily felt he deserved, even after all this time.
Still, the press was here. They had eyes on them at all times, seeing how they interacted, how they were together.
She pouted at him, her bottom lip sticking out in a way that made him want to lean down and bite it. “I want another one.”
He would give her whatever the fuck she wanted if it meant that she would keep looking at him like that. Unfortunately, like that as mostly tipsy, and she looked a little unsteady. He sighed inwardly, hoping he wouldn’t have to babysit her for the rest of the night. He was a little drunk too, but he was far better at holding his liquor than she was.
“You’re drunk,” he stated bluntly.
“So are you!” She waggled a finger too close to his face and, realizing she had blown his cover, he realized he could stomach the thought of one dance with her. But only fucking one.
“Shut the fuck up! Fine!” He hissed, grasping her by the meat of her upper arm and pulling her with him onto the dance floor. He felt her stumble a little, but she was giggling, so he wasn’t even fully convinced that she noticed it.
Shit. Fuck. It was a slow dance. Of fucking course it was. He couldn’t even just stand there and watch her while she danced around him. She would expect him to be an active participant in this kind of dancing. And he could do that. He blew out his cheeks, reluctantly taking her into his arms and trying to ignore how her body felt against him.
“Are you having a good time?” Her cheery voice cut through the noise in his own head.
“It’s fine. My mom is annoying.”
“Oh! I should thank her!”
“Seeing all the pictures the damn press has taken of you in it is enough for her.” He winced before the words even finished leaving his mouth.
“Still.” Ochako squeezed closer up against him. He hoped his heart wasn’t pounding too hard. “It was really nice of her. I feel like a princess.”
“Look damn near one too.” he admitted. He let her cuddle against him, and drew her a little closer too. She was so warm, and he could feel her breath on his neck. She sighed heavily, and he knew enough about her to know that it was a sleepy sigh.
“What time is it?” She asked finally, sounding a little drowsy.
He paused, peering over her shoulder at the clock on the wall. “Nearly midnight.” He paused, hoping her answer to his next question would be yes, because fuck, his feet were starting to hurt and he wanted to lay down. “You wanna go home?”
“Mmhm.”
Thank. Fuck.
He thought saying goodbye would be a quick affair, but as it turned out, everyone and their mother wanted a piece of them on the way out. Bakugou was close to trying to beat their friends off with a stick just so he could get home and go the fuck to sleep.
Finally, it was just them, their parents, and their publicists, and Bakugou was having a hard time not glaring at any of them. He wasn’t sure any of them were actually good people at this point, making him play dress up to fulfil the nation’s fantasy.
Though he supposed he couldn’t complain too much, as playing dress up had gotten him this far, and raised his hero ranks.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bakugou!” Ochako enthused to his mother. “The dress is so beautiful, it was perfect.”
“Not as perfect as you look in it!” Mitsuki gushed, making Bakugou roll his eyes so hard he was sort of afraid he’d pull something. “I still can’t believe my lump of a son didn’t snap you up sooner.”
The night died down, and once Bakugou and Ochako’s parents left, they stood across from Mika and Aoi, waiting to hear how their performance had gone.
“The press is already eating this up,” Mika said, smiling warmly to the two of them. Bakugou curled his lip at her, disgusted with how excited she was about this.
“Both of you should be picking up in ratings in no time.”
Well. Maybe it wasn’t all bad.
“You’ll be on the front page of every gossip rag for the next week,” Aoi added. “This is not the time to dial back. Go out in public together. You’re a happy couple. You didn’t want to take time off for a honeymoon because you have a country to protect but you still are absolutely in love.”
“Can do!” Ochako noedded, smiling brightly.
It was like the sun itself spit in his face. “Fuck. Okay.”
*****
If being at the wedding and not looking at Ochako was difficult, it became far more difficult when she asked for him to help her out of her dress.
It was a corset back, in case she had gained any stress weight before the wedding, Mitsuki had told him in confidence. It fit her perfectly, and Bakugou had to keep himself from looking too closely at the places where his fingers almost touched her bare skin. She was swaying back and forth, humming a little bit as he unlaced her. Once it was off (and he pointedly looked anywhere but at her - she was still clothed, but barely) he helped her hand it up in her closet to be preserved later.
Mumbling something incoherent about being hungry, he slunk towards the kitchen, trying to prepare something that wouldn’t taste like dust in his mouth.
“I liked holding your hand today,” she said out of nowhere, her voice a light tinkling. Bakugou swallowed. She was so weird. What a weird thing to say.
“Sweaty as hell, you’re weird for liking it,” he almost winced the second it was out of his mouth.
She wrinkled her nose at him, which he caught from the corner of his eye. “It’s not so weird.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Can I ask you something?”
Oh God. No. “What.”
“Can we… Sleep in the same bed tonight? I understand if that’s too weird or you don’t want to and-”
“Sure.”
She blinked. “Really?”
Really? He hadn’t even really registered that he was responding to her. He sniffed, lifting a shoulder and trying to look as casual about it as possible.
“Yeah. As long as you don’t float me or anything stupid like that. Should be fine.”
It was a whirlwind, how he ended up in bed with her. She was tucked against his side, warming him, like she belonged there. He marveled at the fact that she was all soft curves despite being so muscular. She fit up against him like a puzzle piece. He closed his eyes, trying not to get too comfortable with the idea. Tomorrow night, they’d crawl back into their own beds and he would have to do his best to pretend that his pillowcases didn’t smell like her.
“It’s real pretty,” she said sleepily, jarring him from his thoughts.
He grunted in response. What was she talking about? The ring? He touched his own with his thumb, feeling the foreign.
“What? You don’t wanna talk?”
“I thought we were gonna sleep.”
“Well. Yeah, but we’re off tomorrow. We can stay up late.”
“I don’t stay up late, Cheeks. You know that.”
“Bakugou.”
\ He kept his eyes closed. Surely the vixen that just murmured his name was absolutely not Ochako Uraraka. Couldn’t be. She’d been bodysnatched.
The air around them suddenly felt hot, and Bakugou opened his eyes to see Ochako shifting over him, one of her hands settling over his cheek. She was looking at him with such intensity he wasn’t even sure he recognized her. His mind starting blowing through options of why she might be looking at him like that - why she was leaning over him.
Oh.
Oh.
She bent down and kissed him, like if she didn’t do it fast enough he might fly out of the bed and into the night. They’d kissed before, but he was still a little fuzzy from all the alcohol he’d drank at the reception, but he actually couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do more than he wanted to kiss her. He felt his hand wrap around her back, almost like he wasn’t even controlling it. His body was just drawn to hers, and he tightened his fingers in the fabric of her shirt, just in case she tried to leave.
She was overtop of him, a welcome weight, but he didn’t expect her to try to dominate. She reached around and curled her hand into his hair, causing him to gasp. A twinge of pleasure shot through him and he deepened the kiss. He heard a little squeak come from her and tried not to laugh as she tried to pull away. Bakugou reached up, grasping her by the back of the neck. She let out another sound and he couldn’t stop himself from shushing her. It wasn’t like anyone would hear them, but the thrill that ran through him at the noise she made wasn’t going to keep him in the game for very long. He rolled over her, pinning her to the mattress and still holding himself above her. He tentatively slid one hand up her side, wanting to touch her, but that old, niggling fear biting at the back of his mind.
You’ll burn her.
You’ll hurt her.
She’ll see you as the monster you really are.
“Touch me.”
Her voice cut through him and a stuttering breath left his lips without his permission. All he wanted to do was touch her, and she had just given him permission, despite the fact that he could hurt her.
He slid his hand up under her shirt before he could regret the action, his heart thundering in his chest so hard he thought it might pop out. He couldn’t remember ever being this nervous for a sexual encounter, because damn, he hoped this was going to be a sexual encounter. He didn’t want to stop touching her once he started, feeling her arch and move against him like she was just as desperate to be touched as he was.
Finally, he pulled back from her mouth, gasping for air before descending on her neck, filled with the feral urge to mark her.
Her touches were growing frenzied, and he followed along as best he could, biting down on her in the process. He knew he was going to mark her, wasn’t even really sure he could control it, but that was fine. Let them see on patrol that he had claimed her. That she was his. Even if it was all signed papers and secrets, she couldn’t let anyone else in her bed without them knowing they would have to answer to him.
Once he started touching her, he found he couldn’t quite stop. He slid his hand up to her breast, kneading carefully so as not to hurt her. She threaded her fingers deeper into his hair, gripping tightly as she tilted her head back on a moan. He smiled against her skin at the reaction, trying not to move too quickly to scare her. He finally pulled back from her neck as he slid his hand under her shorts, wanting to get explicit permission before he did anything that they really couldn’t come back from.
“This okay?” He asked, his breath fanning back into his own face.
He felt the movement of her nod. “Please.”
“Fuck.” He rubbed at her tentatively,afraid of scaring her off. He wasn’t sure what her experience was like beyond Deku, and if he asked her about that he might see red and end up killing the poor bastard anyway.
He was good at sex. He knew he was. But it was differnet now. It was important to him that Ochako still wanted to talk to him in the morning. That didn’t mean he couldn’t turn up the charm a little. He leaned forwards, continuing the rubbing motion against her. “You’re already soaked,” he murmured against her skin. “How long have you been thinking about this?”
“Weeks,” she gasped, and he brought up the courage to push one finger inside her. He moved slowly, trying to ease her into it without overwhelming her too much.
“Yeah?” His heart squeezed at the thought of her thinking about him before this moment. Way before this moment, if she was telling the truth. “What about it has you like this? All fuckin’ worked up?”
He watched as she squeezed her eyes closed and he kissed a path down her chest, adding another finger and working her over. She tilted her neck to give him better access, hands sliding over him.
“God,” she murmured. “Bakugou-”
“Katsuki,” he cut her off, suddenly wanting the act to shed. This, the two of them, felt blindingly real. He was going to follow her lead, play the game she wanted to play, but by God, he was not going to have her yelling out his family name. “Call me by my first name if I’m going to fuck you.”
“Oh, you’re going to fuck me?” She smiled up at him, and he propped his other hand under her neck so he could look down at her.
He almost laughed, so unused to hearing words like that leave her pretty lips, but he raised his eyebrows instead. “It’s hot when you swear.” he curled his fingers before she could make a retort, forcing a gasp from her lips.
“C-can you hurry up, with the fucking, then?”
He kissed her once before shaking his head.. “I’m not gonna tear your shit up. You have to be ready.” he stared down at her, revelling in the way her big doe eyes looked staring back up at him. “I’m not gonna fuck this up.”
He didn’t notice what she was doing with her hand until she was stroking him, and he let out a grunt that felt way too animalistic to be a sound that he made. The common misconception from women seemed to be that he fucked like an animal. That wasn’t the case, he’d never once lost control with anyone, but the way Ochako was making him feel made him wonder if he might get a little close. He could see himself clawing at her and pinning her to the bed, anyway.
His thoughts were getting away from him, and the way she was touching him was going to send him over the edge before he even had a chance to prove to her how good he was. “Quit it, quit it, this’ll be over before it starts if you do that shit.”
She grinned up at him, eyes glinting in the dark, and he just wanted to eat her. “I’m impatient.”
“Damn it, fine.” He rolled away from her to rummage in his bedside table, frantically searching for the condoms he’d been given. He hadn’t lost them, right? He wouldn’t do something that stupid. He definitely had them. After a moment of groping aroudn in the mostly empty drawer, he landed on the box, letting out a sigh of relief. He held them up and glanced over at Ochako. “Take your clothes off.”
She laughed but did as she was told. Bakugou couldn’t stop watching her, even as he took a moment to roll the condom on. He had the fleeting thought of what having children with Ochako might be like, but he stopped himself from taking that particular train too far.
That wasn’t what this was about. He was just going to fuck her.
He just had to make sure it was the best damn fuck of her life.
He settled over her again, grasping the back of her knee and ready to get back into it when he saw she was staring between his legs. He grabbed her face before she could look too long and decide that she didn’t want to do this anymore.
“You’re gonna make me fucking nervous, stop staring at it.”
She blinked. “Sorry. I’m really nervous.”
Oh, she was nervous? That made this more fun, almost. He could really impress her if she wasn’t expecting much from him. He smiled, trying to make his voice sound low and intimate. “I’ll take care of you.”
Her eyes all but turned black.
He kissed her again, settling over her as he did so. He felt Ochako wrap her arms around his neck, her hips rocking up into him. She was moving the perfect way right out the gate and he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do besides ravage her. From the way she was biting back tiny moans and grunts, it sounded like she was thinking the same thing.
He slid his right hand over her body until he reached the crook of her knee, grasping it and pulling her leg over his hip. He reached between his legs and lined up with her, pulling back from the kiss to look her in the eyes.
He used to be a playboy, but he was no asshole. Despite how much it seemed like she wanted it, he needed express permission. He jostled her a little to get her attention back on him. “Is this still okay? I’m not gonna do any shit you don’t want.”
She whined, tugging on his shoulder. She was not helping. “Yes. I want you.”
He groaned and shifted, pressing into her slowly. He kept his eyes trained on her face for any signs of pain, and finding none, pushed into her with one long, sharp thrust. Ochako groaned, throwing her head back, and Bakugou had to shut his eyes to keep himself focused.
He was trying to go slow, to keep himself from pushing over the edge too fast, but she was all over him. It felt like she filled every one of his senses until nothing was left except Ochako Uraraka. He was taking it slow, just trying to enjoy her body and the way she was touching him, when the bitch had the audacity to speak.
“When I saw you today,” she gasped out, “All I could think about was ripping that suit off and licking you all over.”
He stared down at her, not stopping his movements as he listened to her. She had to know what this would do to him.
“I think about it all the time,” she continued, hooking her legs around his waist and moving with him. “I think about you all the time. You’re so brave, and you always are just -” He thrust faster to get her to take a pause so he could regain himself. Once she gasped and stopped talking, he realized the little noises she made might actually be worse.
“What else?” He growled, feeling urgency creep into his bones. He needed her so much, and she was killing him by trying to get him to let go.
“You’re- so strong,” She gasped out, “And sometimes I feel like you could break me in half, and I know you never would, put you’re just so powerful-”
“Fuck,” he grit out between clenched teeth. He would never hurt her, but the idea of dominating her was hot as hell. “Fuck, Uraraka-”
“Ochako,” she corrected.
“Ochako,” he growled, leaning down to bite her neck. It felt like he’d been waiting forever to call her that. No last name, no nicknames, just her. “You’re so goddamn soft.”
She let out little more than a moan in response, and he couldn’t help but be smug about it. He grabbed her hip and aided her movements, stars exploding behind her eyes.
She kept crying out until his mouth found hers again, and he kissed her with a desperation he could feel in his toes. Suddenly he just wanted her screaming his name, the way he never let any of the other girls he brought home scream it or even say it. He wanted her sobbing on him, begging for more until she was too sensitive to touch.
“Say my name,” he panted out, almost delirious with the thought of how good that would sound. “Say it.”
“Katsuki,” She obeyed without question, one hand clawing at his back and the other in his hair. “Katsuki.”
He thrust harder, almost like a punishment. It sounded so good coming from her. Fuck, she should be the only person allowed to say it. He wanted to tell her that, too, that his name was built to come from her, but all he could choke out was “Louder.”
“ Katsuki!”
He brought one hand down to rub at her clit, sending her careening over the edge, biting at him and crying out. He cried out too, way too far gone to feel embarrassed about it. He bit down on her neck to muffle it and felt her lean into the pain. He tried to slow down gradually, to not leave her wanting too fast, and eventually he slowed to a stop, falling down next to her.
“Fuck,” he panted, throwing an arm over his eyes.
“Yeah,” she replied.
Separately and quietly, they both cleaned off and Bakugou was a little pissed to see that she’d put her clothes back on. He stared at her, trying to reimagine her without her clothes again.
“It’s a shame,” he said finally, forcing himself to sound nonchalant.
“What is?” She asked, getting under the covers and rubbing her eyes.
“You’ve got such a nice ass, and I only get to see it at work.”
She giggled, laying on her side to look at him. “Not all of us can be chiseled sex gods when naked.”
“Fuck off.” He reached an arm out for her.
She didn’t respond to his gesture, for a moment, and he had to school his features to keep himself from looking nervous.
“Are you sure?” She asked softly.
“I just had my dick in you and now you’re having second thoughts? Get over here.”
She smiled a little, cuddling up into his side. “Goodnight, Katsuki,” she whispered, tracing her fingers over his chest.
“G’night, Angel,” he sighed,barely realizing what he’d called her as he fell asleep.
Bakugou Katsuki was very much a man of keeping an exact sleep schedule, so he was never really tired.
But next to Ochako was the best he’d slept in years.