Chapter Text
"Are you robbing me?"
Ochako felt fine. Really, truly, she was fine. The physical manifestation of the sun was standing in front of her—in the kitchen of a luxurious apartment that she'd broken into and unlawfully entered—but she was fine. She was as cool as the autumn breeze. This was no big deal. She was simply standing in a kitchen that didn't belong to her, looking at a man who didn't expect to see her there. That didn't make today a life altering, earth-shattering, dimension-rippling, out of body experience. The very thought of today made her heart race; the organ daring to burst from her chest in a bloody show of strength and admiration.
And still, she was fine.
His lips moved—she saw those pillow soft, perfectly sculpted lips move a few times since Katsuki entered her field of vision, but she couldn't focus on anything he said. She was sure he was saying something important—probably something about buying her a different purse to match her outfit better—but the sound of her own heartbeat drowned out anything he said. She inhaled deeply, the relaxing mixture of lavender and her own caramel perfume drifting into her nose. She needed to focus, to lock in and actually hear what he was saying. She came all this way hoping he'd hear her out—she should probably do the same.
The first step of that was to stop rummaging through his silverware drawer. Several polished knives clattering against each other definitely impacted her hearing. She took her hands out of the drawer, lifting them to her chest, revealing her palms to him.
Today, she had nothing to hide.
"Why are you in my knife drawer?"
That was easy—she expected him to ask harder questions. She was in his knife drawer 'cause his neighbor asked her to be. Y'know, the last guy that asked her to steal somethin' changed her life for the better. That's how she ended up here. Heck, it was the drivin' force behind their meetin'.
This guy is offering a get out of jail free card. She'd have to be a complete moron not to take it.
That's what she wanted to tell him, but the only thing that left her mouth was, "…Hi."
This was going to be harder than she thought.
Against all odds, Katsuki smiled at her—right dimple popping, shoulders relaxing, an easy look in ruby eyes that a better woman would have fainted over.
Ochako still wasn't good, so all she could do was smile back.
"Hi," he replied, his voice cool as an autumn rain—and Ochako almost fainted. She swore black spots clouded her vision and the room instantly shot up a million degrees, but she kept her footing, determined not to miss any more time with him.
"Are you ready to tell me if you're robbing me?" he asked, a chuckle at the end of his sentence teasing her. "I've got all day if not. I'm sure we could find something else to talk about."
"'M not robbin' you," she answered, small smile still on her face. But if she wasn't robbing him, what did she call attempting to take his knife and give it to his neighbor? That actually sounded exactly like robbery. "Well, yes I am—but not in a bad way," she amended.
Katsuki looked amused. Slightly confused, but amused all the same. Ochako took this as a good sign.
"Your neighbor saw me breakin' in," she started, the smile on her face stretching to her voice, "an' told me if I get him a bread knife from your drawer, he won't arrest me the next time he catches me doin' somethin' bad. I couldn't pass that deal up."
"You didn't try to negotiate further with him?" Katsuki chuckled. "You probably could've gotten two get out jail free cards."
"Nah," Ochako replied. "Can't bargain with that one. Don't have anythin' he's lookin' for."
"That's what you call it?" he asked incredulously, crossing his arms against his chest. Ochako tried to focus, but the way his black shirt tightened against his chest, his muscles practically flashing her—it was nearly obscene. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought he was doing it on purpose. That he knew exactly what the heck he was doing, and did it specifically to punish her. "Bargaining?"
Even his voice was punishment, stoic and silky and amused and deep—she missed it.
"'M jus' used to it," Ochako shrugged, a small flush covering her face. "I've been havin' to bargain with my freedom for the last nine, ten months. I can't pass up a good deal."
"Could've fooled me," Katsuki replied, shaking his head. He took a step closer to her and Ochako felt her heart race. A part of her wanted to run, to dart out of the window or find the ceiling and jump—but she shouldn't. Fuck, she couldn't. She'd came all this way for him, dammit she wasn't going to run anymore. She'd been giving herself exactly what she'd wanted thus far—why would she stop now?
He stepped past her, opening the stainless steel refrigerator. A gush of cool air washed out, kissing her skin. He pulled out a transparent bottle, raspberries swirling inside of a tall bottle of tea.
"What are still you doing here?"
The question hurt more than it should. It was fair—she expected him to ask something like that at some point, and it wasn't like Katsuki was known to beat around the bush. He was going to ask direct questions. She should have been prepared for it. She should have planned for it, prepped for it, had an answer ready for whatever situation arose.
But all she had was herself.
"What do you mean?" she asked, hating the vulnerability in her voice. She grit her teeth and stood in it—this is what he wanted, right? This is what they both wanted. It didn't get more honest than this.
"It's a cheap lock," Katsuki explained, preparing to take a sip. Ochako watched as his throat bobbed, his knuckles white around the transparent tube. The tea sloshed around in his hands, tiny waves capsizing any boat the raspberries thought they built. "You got into Endeavor's office faster. I know you"—his voice hitched softly, and a heavy pause let Ochako know that he knew she'd caught it—"could have gotten in and out of here with anything you wanted in less than two minutes."
"I coulda," Ochako confirmed, a confident smirk crossing her features. She could feel that this probably wasn't the time—she was in the middle of either starting the greatest love story of her life or breaking her heart and swearing off love forever—but she couldn't help it. She could have robbed him blind, leaving nothing but a kiss on his camera. She was a thief, fully realized, bona fide. And she was proud of that. She did a damn good job. Her nearly spotless arrest record spoke for itself. "But I was hopin' I'd run into you. I wasted, like, five minutes arguin' with the door 'cause I thought you were just tryna keep me out."
"I wasn't the one who shut anyone out," Katsuki reminded. He took a long sip of the tea. Ochako understood, she felt her own mouth going dry.
"I—I know," she admitted. She opened her mouth to speak, but the dryness took over—her mouth filling with sand, her throat suffering from the worst drought known to man. She was choking—failing. She couldn't go out like this, not yet. She had to say something, anything. "Y'know," she said, forcing the words out, "you…should invest in a better security system. Anyone coulda got in here. You're lucky I had good intentions today."
"Shit's for show," Katsuki said, rolling his eyes. Ochako was grateful—his swears were promises. At one point they were meant to unsettle, but she'd found comfort in his vulgarity. It filled her with euphoria, made her knees go weak. The nervous butterflies he once created in her belly were now insects of a different color. Reds and pinks and oranges swirling inside of her, just for him.
She only wished to know that she still did the same for him.
"I'm the best fucking security system I could ever have."
"I love your confidence," she admitted, the stupid, mildly sarcastic smirk becoming a mainstay on her face. She was serious—his confidence was one of her favorite qualities, but she couldn't allow herself to say it like she meant it. "I think it's so sexy," she continued. "Look, it's makin' me blush."
Her honesty had loopholes.
That was a good enough deal, right? It wasn't an out—not an fully formed escape plan—but it was close enough to keep her comfortable.
Something burned behind those ruby eyes. It was hot enough to make Ochako melt. "I asked you a question," he redirected.
"Y-Yeah…look, this ain't easy for me," Ochako started. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but that didn't do much to calm her nerves, because every fucking breath she took had a trace of nitroglycerin. He was still behind her eyelids, living in her head without paying a single bill. He'd been like this for months—occupying space in her brain without warning.
Now, she welcomed him. She placed flowers on the table for him, swept and mopped the floors for him.
She opened her eyes and found his, ruby red and gleaming underneath his fancy ass lights. "I'm still here 'cause…I wanna be," she confessed. "This didn't happen by chance. I wasn't jus' hopin an' prayin' I'd run into you like I used to. I made sure that I saw you. An' I did it 'cause…I wanna be with you." His features didn't soften and Ochako didn't expect them too. Nah, that would be way too easy. Her hero would remain stoic until the very end, until he couldn't anymore.
It was her job to get him there.
"I…I-I haven't always had it easy—growin' up an' stuff. I did a lot of things 'cause I had to. It's not like I had a choice—well, I did but all my options sucked. An'…I learned to live with it. I had to do some not-so-great stuff to keep a roof over my head. An' even then, it wasn't enough to actually get somethin' I wanted. I got what I needed—barely. I never really had a chance to get all the stupid shit any girl wants: the shoes, the dresses, purses…nothin'. Jus' enough to keep me goin'."
"I know," he said, stepping forward. His face remained stone but he hand reached out to her—and she took him almost immediately. A warm thumb brushed against her knuckles and she almost choked right then and there. "I knew that before you said anything."
"By the time we met, I was exhausted. Day in, day out of workin' all day an' gettin' nothin' out of it was wearin' on me. I-I jus' wanted to get myself somethin'…even if that meant I got in trouble. I was stupid an' desperate an'—"
"You needed help," Katsuki interrupted, squeezing her hand gently. Fuck, it was unfair—the tiniest gestures sent her heart into a frenzy. He'd always had this effect on her and he knew it. He used it to his advantage at every fucking opportunity. Sometimes, Ochako wasn't sure what role she played in this game they'd concocted—cat, mouse, some weird amalgamation of the two? What she was sure of was that she wanted to keep playing. She wanted to lose, to win, to end in draws so many times that neither one of them knew who was up. She wanted there to be no point in keeping score.
She didn't know if she wanted forever, but fuck she wanted to keep playing as long as he'd let her.
He guided her over to the couch—a black leather that haunted her raggedy piece of shit's nightmares. It must have cost a fortune, sitting perfectly in his beautiful living room. Maybe she didn't deserve it or anything close to it—the couch that was supposed to keep her humble and remind her of her origins quickly devolving into a waste of space.
Before Ochako knew it, she found herself trapped between the couch's perfectly straight arm and Katsuki's perfect body.
If there was any place she'd rather be, she couldn't think of it.
"You needed help," he continued, his fingers interlocking with hers. "You needed resources, opportunities…something."
"I helped myself," Ochako replied. "I helped myself an' I did somethin' stupid—an' then I was finally able to get what I want. I was so used to not havin' what I wanted that I didn't even know what I wanted. Someone had to tell me that I could have better. Do you know how fucked up you had to be to not know you could do better?"
She didn't wait for him to answer.
"So I bought everythin' I thought I wanted. I got the house, the clothes, the shoes, the handbags, the fragrances, hell, I even got a couple friends—I didn't have to pay for those," she laughed, blinking back tears. "An' I loved it. I still do. I love everythin' I worked so hard to get…but…nothin' feels better than bein' around you. Fightin', fuckin', whatever. You feel like a day off. A fuckin' vacation—I ain't never had that. I didn't know I wanted it. I had no idea how badly I wanted you 'til I let you go."
"Why'd you run, baby?"
The dam she'd so carefully constructed around her tear ducts broke. Katsuki practically used his quirk on it, blowing it to smithereens. At once, a steady stream leaked from her eyes, and there was nothing she could do about it.
She wasn't Uravity—baby sounded so much better.
"'Cause I worked hard for all my shit," she sobbed, allowing her body to crumble into his. His chest made for the best pillow she'd slept on in weeks, his slightly damp t-shirt sticky and sweet-smelling. She knew it was from his sweat—and she couldn't bring herself to care. His sweaty body felt better than her billion yen sheets and dammit she wouldn't let herself fuck this up. "An' you worked hard, too. We earned everythin' we have, an' I thought I was scared to risk losin' everythin' I had…but then I realized I'd been doin' that. I trusted so many people, an' I shoulda been trustin' you. I'm sorry.
An'…askin' you to risk everythin' for me isn't right. It's wrong…but I'm gonna do it anyway 'cause I'm a bad guy. I don't do the right thing. I will continue to do the wrong thing over an' over, 'cause some really good people ask me to do the things they can't. The world needs bad guys so good guys can keep bein' good—an' I guess that's where I fit in. Bein' with me may be bad, but I'm gonna ask you to do it anyway."
Ochako was surprised at how easily it came out. She shouldn't have been—everyone told her she was shit liar. But still, the concept of being honest seemed like such a big thing. It had become the center of all of her problems within ten months. It swallowed everything, defined every choice she made for so long.
And now that it was out in the open, she could finally see how small it had become.
"I didn't want to fall for you," Katsuki said—and Ochako felt her world crash and burn.
That shit hurt. It was more than a sting, more than an ache—Katsuki shook her planet and then threw it onto the ground, watching as her clouds burst into flames. Did Ochako have any right to be upset? Probably not. Did Ochako give a shit about anyone's rights? Not at all. That wasn't a part of the bona fide villain package she'd subscribed to. What made it worse was that he returned her honesty with his own, never once lying to her.
Swiftly, Katsuki stole a kiss from her, a confused gasp escaping her lips. He pulled away before she could reciprocate, the barest taste of his lips lingering.
"You're wearing your heart on your sleeve," he explained, his gaze finally breaking into something warmer, something alive. Those stony features broke away into an intense, flaming gaze, ruby eyes locking her into place. Blonde brows furrowed and straightened, tight t-shirt rose and fell in time with shaky breaths. Strong hands caressed the sides of her face, holding her steady, scared to let her go. "It's beautiful, baby."
Ochako crashed her lips against his with all the force of a tidal wave. She'd needed him much longer than she could take, and every moment beyond her limit was torture. She decided that she was done torturing herself last night—why the fuck was she still waiting?! She pressed her lips against his again and again, determined to make up for every moment she'd wasted.
Unexpectedly, he pulled away.
"You're not the only one who gets to make a fucking speech."
Oh?
Ochako had to contain herself—just to hear him out. She probably should have done that ages ago, but who gave a shit about the past?
They both did. It's literally what made them, defined their actions and put them on this collision-destined course.
She could hear him out—she owed him that.
"I didn't want to fall for you," he repeated—the words didn't go down easier this time. Ochako didn't think she'd ever get used to him saying that, even if she knew something better would follow. "I actually wanted to hate you."
Well, that didn't make her feel better. Did he have a fucking point or did he just want to hurt her feelings?!
"That night, I convinced myself that you needed help. I wasn't sure how to help you, but I'd figure it out. Then, you got away. Afterwards, I convinced myself that you didn't need help—that you were some kind of fucking seductress specifically sent to destroy me." He paused, rolling his eyes and chuckling, as if the younger version of him wasn't spot on. "It took a lot of phone calls from a lot of friends for me to see that I was being paranoid. The fucked up part of it is that before that night, I wouldn't have made those calls. I would've sat there, pissed off and took it out on you the next time I saw you.
I fucking wanted to hate you. I told myself I was thinking about you because I hated you, and that made it okay—because then I could think about how to beat you. It'd be worth it then, every hour spent agonizing over you would lead to another headline about me. My rank would rise, I'd get a raise, and then I could finally stop thinking about you.
I spent hours in the gym every fucking day. My best friend—" He paused and shook his head, a small smile crossing his face. It was small and soft, just barely touching his lips. Ghost of smile if anything. For a second, Ochako had to convince herself she wasn't seeing things—that this whole day hadn't been a hallucination. But the small upturn of his lips lingered, staring her in the face.
Katsuki had actually smiled at something that wasn't her. It was a miracle.
"I didn't know you had best friends," she said quietly, threading her fingers through his.
"I didn't think I'd ever call Kirishima that out loud," he admitted.
Ochako had a response—a cute and clever one—but she figured the best thing to do was to keep her mouth shut. Her best friend's life depended on it.
Probably.
"Anyway, he asked if he could train me. Said that I was only going to tear my body up if I worked out every day. I…I listened to him, and it's worked out for the both of us. He's a professional trainer with clients and shit now. Working out with him fucking drained me, so my neighbor started bringing me fresh fucking fruit and teas to fight inflammation or whatever the fuck IcyHot said it would do. I don't actually know what it's supposed to do, but I drink it anyway. He thought I needed help, so he did something.
I wanted to hate him too. Actually, I kinda do hate him—but that's because he's a fucking show off and know-it-all and his fucking cooking sucks—but that's not important. What is important is that I…trust him. And it's made my life better. I trusted Ki—Shitty Hair—and it's made my life better. It's made me better.
And I wouldn't have done it if I never met you. Meeting you, chasing after you, getting hung up on you…it made me better. You just existing made my life better. It's selfish and it might not be reasonable, but I don't want to let that go. I don't want to let you go.
You've made my life better—I just want a chance to be a part of yours."
Ochako was glad she shut the fuck up.
She'd give him more than a chance—she'd already given him plenty of chances to leave and he wouldn't. She'd been caught in his grasp since the first time they'd touched—since he bent her over and held her hands behind her back the damn counter at the jewelry store. She should have known then that she'd never get him out of her head, that he'd find a way into her heart and stay.
After all, he was her first time.
Maybe she was his first with a villain.
Either way, Ochako finally knew that her place is, and had always been, inside Katsuki's arms.
She pressed her lips to his—softly, confidently, savoring the flavor of raspberry tea on his lips. She let her lips linger on his, reveling in his softness. How many times had she kissed him and had the luxury of complete and total privacy? Their public outings had been fun, fulfilling fantasies that she didn't know she had, but limited. In the privacy of Katsuki's penthouse, Ochako was free to take her time, explore pieces of him without the threat of exposure.
It felt…safe. Stable.
She never wanted to let this go.
Katsuki pulled her into his lap, her knees pinning him in place. One hand wrapped around her waist, holding her body flush against his. Every breath he took, she felt in her chest. It flowed through her body like electricity, zapping her nerves and frying her brain. His free hand got lost in her hair, cradling her skull as if she was made of glass.
She ground her hips onto his, her core weeping at his presence. She could feel him underneath her—his dick pulsing, twitching in its confines. His fingers dug deeper into her skin, desperate to leave their marks on her body. Even though his clothes she could feel how badly he wanted her—but Ochako was determined not to rush. All the weeks melted away to nothing in his grasp. Time was nothing more than a word in the dictionary.
She opened her mouth, finally deepening the kiss. Slowly, lazily, she let her tongue map out every inch of his mouth—discovering landmarks in the security of his teeth. She could taste the raspberry tea on his tongue, sharing with her their bittersweet flavors. Vaguely, she wondered if his saliva carried nitroglycerin as well, because every inch of his sweet left her feeling hot.
She sighed breathily, deeply, and he swallowed every inch of her.
"You're not leaving, baby?" he murmured against her lips, the words just barely slipping out. Ochako opened her eyes and found his half-lidded but intense, gazing at her with desperation she'd only felt in his absence.
Fuck—he was terrified.
"'M not goin' anywhere, Katsuki," she promised, resting her forehead against his. He released a heavy breath—Ochako knew a sigh of relief when she felt it, but she wouldn't call him on it. "'Sides, I brought you somethin'."
"You bought me something?" he asked, eyebrow raised in disbelief.
"No," she clarified. "I brought you somethin'. With an 'r'. The other word means I went out an' spent my own money, an' I'm not there yet."
"You're not going to buy me stuff?" Katsuki laughed—and this time, Ochako didn't have to commit to memory. She was now afforded the luxury of hearing his laugh whenever she wanted. She didn't need to record it, didn't need to bottle it. It was simply there—available whenever she wanted it. She savored by choice, not because she wasn't sure if she'd ever hear it again.
Thinking about it didn't break her heart, not even a little bit.
"Would I give a cow milk?" Ochako replied, a smirk playing on her lips. She rose from his lap with slight protest from him—but he'd live.
She was coming back anyway.
Ochako held out her purse with the kind of uncertainty only that being forced to commit to a decision could bring. She swallowed thickly, confident in her choices not by her own will. She was doing the very thing that could destroy her, handing over her very life in a handbag she'd never thought she could own.
"You brought me a tiny Prada bag?" Katsuki asked, putting heavy emphasis on the r.
"Why would I bring you a Prada bag?" Ochako replied, rolling her eyes.
"I don't want your Prada bag," he said, and suddenly, the phrase 'Prada bag' sounded like gibberish. It felt completely made up. Ochako had never heard those words ever and would never hear them again. She was living in unprecedented times. Sentences were being spoken that had never been spoken before. She was the first in her bloodline to hear anything like this. People in her old neighborhood would cut her arm off to get to her bag—what the fuck was going on here?! "You look like your brain broke."
She shook her head, trying to bring her train of thought back to the tracks. "I think I need to turn it off an' turn it back on," she murmured. "Look inside," she demanded softly, sitting back down on the couch. She wasn't totally convinced that Katsuki couldn't hear her heart furiously beating, but if he did, he didn't say anything. She'd heard once that nervousness was contagious, but he sat next to her looking like he didn't have a care in the world. As if all his problems had been solved with her decision to stay.
She hoped that feeling was contagious, too.
He opened the purse quickly, reaching inside and pulling a small rectangle of plastic out. Ruby eyes dilated at first, pupils widening before lids closed slightly, squinting. She probably should have grabbed a better one—she had plenty of id cards from the years of working at different jobs—but this one felt special. Thematically appropriate, maybe. It was old and worn, the plastic come off in one of the corners and permanent indentations from years of being folded up and tossed away.
But she could never really find it in herself to get rid of her Yuuei id card. She'd grown her hair out since then, changed the way she did her makeup, smiled more. But still, it had her name, photo, and year she attended—all there in easy to read text. Hell, the PLUS ULTRA still had a little sheen on it. It wasn't much, but it survived all the years with her.
Ochako wasn't thrilled to give it to Katsuki…but she could share her secrets with him.
"Ochako," he said tentatively, tasting her name on his tongue for the time. She loved the way it sounded coming from him, loved the way he said it, loved the way it made her feel knowing he knew who she was. "Ochako Uraraka, year one student at Yuuei."
"I…I didn't finish. Didn't become the hero I wanted to be," she started, placing a soft hand on his knee. "But that's where Uravity came from. Made up the name an' came up with her costume."
"I think you became exactly who you needed to be," Katsuki said, setting down the card. "I wouldn't change anything about you."
"Not anythin'?"
"Ochako, I like you. All of you. Just the way you are."
Impulse control had never been Ochako's strong suit. She wanted it to be—she wanted to be cool and composed but that simply was not who she was.
And he liked her anyway.
She threw herself at Katsuki, unable to help herself. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed his lips against hers, drinking in every inch of him. She took in every sigh he made, every gasp, and bit down on his bottom lip—loving his plushness between her teeth. In her imagination, Katsuki was the aggressive, possessive one—but here in reality, she was the one with the overwhelming need to claim him. She wanted to have him as close as possible, and when she couldn't be by his side, she needed to have a physical reminder that she had been there.
A sign that she was coming back. Something to look forward to.
She pinned him down on the couch, locking him in place with her thighs. Almost instantly his hot hands roamed around her body—gripping her hips, sliding underneath her sweater, tiny touches setting her skin ablaze. She moaned at the contact—small, happy hums that only came from his touch, for him. Ochako could feel herself dripping for him, the need to throw all their clothes to the side and feel him growing stronger—but they had all the time in the world.
This was Katsuki's first time with Ochako—she wanted to make it last.
She dragged her tongue against his once more, savoring the way he tasted. She let out a soft breath against his skin and then descended down his neck, kissing and sucking every piece of flesh presented to her. She could feel his heart steadily beating through his pulse, the artery jumping when she pressed her lips to it. Gently, she sucked—the vessel bounding between her teeth.
Katsuki breathed deeply, his fingers digging deeper into Ochako's jeans. If he wasn't careful, he'd rip through them—but fuck, Ochako didn't mind that at all. She wanted to feel his hands on her skin, to have them leave shapes and bruises. He'd spent all this time calling her his girlfriend—she wanted physical proof. Something irrefutable, undeniable.
He groaned lowly—and Ochako saw stars.
"I love the way you sound," she breathed directly into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. She kissed the shell of his ear before biting down on his earlobe, stealing another groan from him. His hands held her tighter, arms holding her closer. Ochako reveled in his promise to never let her go.
"I love the way you feel," he replied, his hands sliding from their spot on her hips to her sides, traveling up her skin. They stopped at the soft skin of her abdomen—squeezing her gently, massaging the loose skin that she'd never be able to lose. "So fucking perfect," he sighed. Slowly, his warm hands trailed up higher, covering the satin fabric of her bra. She'd spent hours that morning trying to find the perfect one before settling on something soft and black—not wanting to look like she was trying as hard as she did.
His fingertips grazed the top of her breasts and she shuddered on contact—she could feel his length twitch beneath her.
He sat up, those ruby eyes she adored nearly eclipsed by dark pupils, gazing at her like she was something sacred—something important.
He crashed his lips onto hers, finally giving her the bruising, demanding kiss she'd been dreaming about. It's all tongue and teeth, fuck exploring—Katsuki seemed like he was determined to make her mouth home to his tongue as well, stuffing her full. She was his, no doubts or questions about it. She said she wouldn't run and he stopped offering her an out. Good—she didn't want an out. She was done with the escape plans and hasty getaways. All that mattered was right here, right now.
And right now, she thought she'd die if he stopped touching her. She missed his touch for far too long—her body feeling like a spring-loaded trap. The pressure inside of her was reaching a peak—and still it wasn't enough pressure to give her any release. Ochako attempted to squeeze her thighs together, to give her dripping core just a little relief, but he pulled her further onto his groin, creating friction she didn't think was possible.
She moaned into his mouth, loudly, unabashedly—no fear of getting caught in her body.
He swallowed it, letting her drip down his throat.
She needed more of him.
He peeled off her sweater and tossed it somewhere between the kitchen tile and living room carpet. If it was anybody else, Ochako would have cared that they'd thrown her cashmere sweater as if it was nothing—but between her soaked panties and the way Katsuki looked at her, she was willing to make an exception. Besides, he tossed her bra quick enough so her sweater wouldn't get lonely.
His hands cupped her bare breasts, nipples stiffening under his touch. She let out another moan—softer, breathier. "You're so fucking pretty, Ochako." He purred her name with an adoration she thought only existed in dreams, never grounded in the possibility that it could happen.
She really couldn't believe she could actually have everything she wanted.
She slid off the couch, taking Katsuki's pants and boxers with her. His dick sprang free, just as thick as she remembered. Beads of precum leaked from his tip, white and shining, like a string of string of pearls.
Ochako needed her pants off immediately.
She fiddled with the buttons, her zipper only coming apart after she growled at it. Katsuki wrapped his hands around her sides, his fingers sliding in between the tight space denim and her hips. "Sorry if it squeezes," Ochako apologized. "'M heavier than I look."
"You're so fucking perfect, Oh-cha-ko." Katsuki pronounced every syllable like it was sacred, full of reverence and the most important thing he'd ever say. His hands snaked away from inside of her jeans to outside, grabbing her ass through the denim. "You're so sexy, baby," he said with a squeeze, his voice nothing but a low rumble in his throat. "Been thinking about you for damn near a year." Gently, he nipped at her exposed hip, drawing out a shaky gasp.
"I—I," she started, trying to control her thoughts, but as his nips turned into sucks and licks, Ochako found it harder to do. "I—J-Jump! I have to jump when I put on jeans," she hastily admitted. Katsuki arched an eyebrow, confusion written all across his features.
Because of course the hero with a slutty little waist knew nothing about thicc girl problems.
"If I don't jump, they won't go over my thighs," she quickly explained. "But jumpin' essentially just stuffs my legs in there so it can be pretty hard to get out of out."
Katsuki didn't seem to understand any of this. That was okay—Ochako had plenty of lived experiences that Katsuki would never actually understand. He'd simply have to learn from osmosis—diffusion—or whatever, high school biology was not Ochako's specialty.
Still, none of that stopped Katsuki from placing his hands at her hips and helping her shimmy out of the tight fabric.
Ochako might have fallen in love in that very moment.
"Fucking missed seeing you like this," Katsuki growled, his hands cupping her ass hard enough to leave marks. She made the mistake of looking at him—those beautiful eyes dark and hazy, a series of bright red bruises blossoming on his neck. He chewed on his bottom lip for dear life, gripping and squeezing every inch of her he could get his hands on. "So fucking sexy."
If possible, she felt her slick soak through her panties, meeting the tops of her thighs with a warm embrace.
She sank to her knees, soft skin meeting plush carpet. She wrapped her hand around him, his cock warm in her palm, her fingers still unable to completely wrap around him. He inhaled sharply, his body stiff, tense in her hold. She bent her head down, tasting a glistening trail of precum. "Fuck," Katsuki swore, red eyes rolling to the back of his skull. His fingers threaded themselves through her hair, pulling softly. She dove deeper, licking up his entire shaft, her hands palming the head. "You look so fucking good."
She took him slowly, allowing his dick to rest on the flat of her tongue. His hands gripped her hair tight, tense—she knew it took everything in him not to push her head down. The thought sent shivers down her spine and made her core throb—she'd beg for him to fuck her face, for him to put his hands on her and make her suck him how he likes—but he exercised restraint. He let her run the show.
And a show she'd give him.
She took him to the back of her throat in one slow motion, drawing it out as long as she could. She was rewarded with a satisfied hum, a deep guttural noise from inside Katsuki's chest. Her eyes rolled back at the sound, and she dipped in her fingers below her the waistband of her panties, finally feeling the warm wetness in between her legs. She did nothing to bite back the moan that escaped her throat, getting lost on his cock.
"Fuck," he groaned, his fingers getting lost in her hair. "Sucking my dick turns you on that much?"
She flicked her eyes up at him, finding a deep pool of black lined with the thinnest ring of ruby staring back at her.
His hips stuttered once, twice—his dick hitting the back of her throat.
Her fingers found her clit, and her thighs shuddered. She tried to gasp, his dick momentarily cutting off her airway.
"You look so fucking good on your knees," he said, bucking his hips into her mouth. Her pussy leaked around her fingers, slick coating her hands, her cunt begging for him. She bobbed her head faster, took him deeper, stretched her jaw wider, her fingers working overtime but still not filling her up the way she knew he could. Every moan she made suffocated his dick, vibrating him without ever leaving her mouth.
"Y-You're going to make me cum," he whined, his voice ragged, raspy. Ochako could hear his breaths become choppy, disjointed. His fingers gripped her tighter, his hips bucking harder. "F-Fuck, Ochako," he said, and Ochako felt her own release starting to build. She'd never get tired of him saying her name—her actual name—no matter how he said it. Whether it be broken sobs or angry shouts, she knew there was no better person saying it. "You're doing so good, baby," he said desperately. "Show me how good you are, Oh-chako."
She cried as her release shook through her body, her cunt desperate to hold on to him. He followed immediately after, his orgasm coating her mouth in warm spurts. She swallowed him down easily, brown eyes flicking up to meet ruby.
Katsuki pulled her into a bruising kiss, his shaky breaths filling her lungs. She rolled her hips over his, her soaked panties giving him a taste of what could be—what would be. She felt him move underneath him, and regretfully broke their kiss.
"Where you goin', Katsuki?" she asked, not hating the need that lingered in her voice.
"Baby," he said softly, nuzzling his nose in her neck, "You're soaking my lap through your panties. I need that juicy pussy on my tongue."
Ochako groaned at his words, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Th-That can be arranged," she squeaked, pulling tightly as he pressed soft kisses into her neck.
She expected him to lay her down and strip her—to lick and fuck her right there on the couch. It'd be a shame to waste such a beautiful piece of leather, but it'd be an even bigger shame to end the day un-fucked.
So why the hell did he keep moving?!
"You're movin'," she whined, feeling his hands snake around her hips.
"I'm taking us to bed, Angel-face," he said, his hands gripping her ass tightly. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her core pressed up against his hard body. She had half a mind to press further, to grind deeper on him…
"Our bed," he clarified, pressing a swift kiss to her lips.
…but she had the patience of a saint and wanted to be defiled on his—their sheets.
She sighed happily, dreamily—wrapping her arms around his hickey covered neck and resting her head against his chest.
x
One minute Ochako was being carried down the hall by the man of her dreams, the next she was tossed on the second softest bed she's ever laid on. She preferred something a little thicker, a little warmer—but she was sure that sleeping with Katsuki was all she'd need to keep her toasty.
Red eyes looked at her from between her legs and heat blossomed inside of her. She'd lost her panties the instant her back hit the bed, and Katsuki gaped at her openly, spreading her open and watching her puffy folds drip onto his blanket. Warm fingers circled her clit slowly, torturously, counting every sigh and hiccup she made.
"Ka-ah-tsuki," Ochako breathed, the tail end of a moan strangling her words. "Pl-please."
"Your pussy is so fucking pretty, Ochako." He dragged her name out, savoring the taste of it on his tongue. He licked up every syllable, every sound that could come from her name, enunciating.
She wasn't sure if it was because of the way he said her name or because of the way he rubbed her clit, but she knew that this man was going to be the death of her.
"Prettiest pussy in the whole fucking world leaking on my sheets."
A loud moan ripped from her throat. She arched her back, her legs quivering, threatening to close.
Katsuki's free hand gripped her thigh tight, the flesh dimpling in his grasp.
She didn't know how much more she could take. Katsuki moved his fingers so slowly, so deliberately, lighting every nerve in her cunt on fire. He was drawing it out, stoking the flame that he'd started inside of her—watching it from a single spark to an inferno.
And Ochako never knew that she could have an orgasm from a compliment, but she'd also never been specifically complimented on her pussy. It seemed like that greedy bitch loved attention.
"Dy-Dynamight," she tried, desperately trying to break his focus—to concentrate on anything other than his torturous pace.
He let out a soft groan, his breath tickling her insides. She swore softly, her back arching off of the mattress.
"You getting impatient, baby?" he asked, his lips just shy of hers.
"Katsuki, please," Ochako whined, dangerously close to begging.
"Please what?" he asked, feigning as much innocence as he could when every time he spoke, his lips brushed against Ochako's pussy. He licked his lips, his tongue making the barest contact with her clit—and Ochako's vision almost whited out. "Use your words, Ochako."
"Katsuki!" she cried out, unable to control herself, "Baby, I need you!"
Katsuki's hand dropped from her clit immediately, his grip on her thigh tightening. He looked up at her, ruby eyes blown wide, marble jaw clenched tight. Ochako watched as his chest heaved back and forth, taking in deep breaths. If she had to bet, she'd think that she'd crossed a line and he was now tip-toeing on the last of his resolve.
She hoped she'd finally gotten lucky.
Katsuki's lips latched on to hers—his tongue carving a home inside of her. Her moans mixed with his, getting lost in the subspace of their chests. He slipped a finger inside of her—wet, plush walls taking him in greedily. He dove in and out, her slick spilling onto his knuckles, onto his sheets.
He moved his lips to her ear, his groans reverberating inside of her skull. Ochako couldn't help it—she grabbed him tightly, brown eyes rolling into the back of her head. "Fuck Ochako," he breathed, prompting her to roll her hips against him, "I'm right here."
"Ka-ah," she tried, his name heavy on her tongue but her screams fighting their way out. She wanted to tell him how good he was doing, how good she felt—how he was so fucking sexy when he looked at her like that, when he talked to her like that—but her brain couldn't find the words.
"You're doing so good, Ochako," he said, his lips dragging against her neck. "Pussy's so fucking tight around my fingers. You sure you can take me?"
"Yes!" Ochako replied immediately—of course, even when he'd fucked her stupid, she'd find a way to indulge him. "Yes, Katsuki, please."
She'd felt it bubbling inside of her, but her body was threatening to boil over. Her legs threatened to close around him, her thighs quivering, shaking furiously. She was desperate—desperate for release, desperate for him. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to stop torturing her or to make it last forever.
She wasn't sure if she had much choice in the matter.
"I want you to soak my face, Angel."
Katsuki threw her legs over his shoulders and dove right in, lapping up everything she had to offer.
And Ochako never wanting to disappoint let herself fall apart for him, in front of him, not the least bit concerned that he couldn't help put her back together.
He kissed her, the taste of her on his lips.
"You see how good you taste?"
Ochako would have indulged him if she wasn't out of breath. Instead, she pushed him down on his—their—bed and straddled him. His dick rested under her, hard and ready, slick and spit lining his shaft. She moved once, dragging her cunt against his length, reveling in the hiss he let out.
Sex wasn't a competition but she would not be out done by some pretty blonde hero.
His hands hugged her hips tight, forcing her to be still.
"Baby," he said, his voice straining, "There's condoms in the dresser."
Condoms? He mentioned having one at the museum—but he was balls deep in her at the police station. Ochako was confused. Good for him for wanting to be safe, but seriously, what the fuck?
"Don't make that face," Katsuki said, sitting up. His dick unintentionally slid across her folds and it took everything inside of her not to ride him into the sunset. "I like that face."
"Shut up," she said, not fighting the flush that spread across her face, but she damn sure wasn't proud of it. "What's the sudden interest in condoms? You know somethin' I don't?"
"No," he said quickly. "No, baby, it's nothing like that."
"Then what is it like?"
"I don't want to fuck this up," he said softly. "I want you—and I want to know that anything that happens between us is because we want it to. I don't want you to be stuck with me because of poor planning."
The corners of Ochako's lips quirked up, her lips parting into a soft, barely-there smile. "You really do care," she said, pulling him close to her.
All the times he's faced off against her, Ochako knew that his heart had to be racing behind his composed figure. It had to be—whether they were fighting or fucking, their bodies needed their hearts to be working at top speed. It was the only way they could keep going.
Holding his chest this close to hers, she felt it for herself. A soft lub with a dub followed too quickly after—a long pause before hearing the lub come back in full force, dub once again too fast, matching the intensity. There was no reason or rhyme to his beat, but it beat all the same.
It was the most beautiful rhythm Ochako had ever felt.
"No shit," he scoffed, relaxing in her hold, wrapping his arms around her waist loosely. "It's not like I've been saying that the whole fucking time."
"You don't have to worry 'bout that—any of that," she said, burying her face in his neck. She planted small, feathery kisses on his skin—his grip tightening on her waist. "This is exactly where I want to be."
She pushed him down onto their cool sheets and pressed her lips to his. His arm wrapped around the small of her back, holding her closer to him—his arrhythmia an audible, soothing reminder that he wanted her in the same way that she wanted him.
Ochako rocked her hips against his, her folds catching the tip of his dick.
"Baby," Katsuki warned, his voice descending into a growl.
"It's alright, baby," she sighed, her kisses turning into soft bites at the base of his throat. His dick throbbed against her, its own little heart beating furiously against her cunt. He slipped inside of her easily, pillow soft and warm surrounding him. "I want you to fill me up," she breathed, rolling her hips against him. She sank down on his dick, her breath catching in her throat. He was so deep inside of her, his dick reaching pieces of her that hadn't been touched in weeks.
She knew she wasn't going to last—she'd given herself an orgasm and he licked another out of her—but fuck, she had to try. He was so perfect inside of her, filling every crevice with perfect precision, as if his cock was made for her cunt.
She was starting to believe it was.
"You're so—" she started, grinding against him.
Maybe meeting him was some sort of divine intervention—a part of someone's plan to intertwine their lives. Maybe it was more than luck that he was the one to apprehend her in the jewelry shop, and every meeting afterward was more than coincidence.
Because why else would their bodies be tailor made for each other?
"—Perfect," he finished, guiding her. His hands held her tight, tiny sparks tickling her hip, literally setting her skin alight. He lifted her up before slamming her down onto him, stealing the air out of her lungs. "Angel, you're take me so fucking good," he groaned, his words tickling a spot too close to her heart for it to be coincidental.
"K-Katsuki," she stuttered, losing herself to the feeling, wanting nothing more than to have him over and over again. "Katsuki—fuck—"
"That's right, Ochako," he groaned, his hands moving from her hip to tease her wet clit. "My perfect girlfriend fucking me so good."
His touch sent sparks flying from her core to her chest, cementing his place there. There was never really argument, no discussion that needed to take place. Katsuki carved his place in her heart from the moment they locked eyes, and continued to chip away at her until she was laid bare to him.
He promised he'd ruin her, and he had done it. There would never, could never be another person that measured up to him. She was his, completely.
He slammed her deeper, harder, his grip tighter. She'd felt his cock twitch inside of her, his breathing becoming ragged and rapid. She dripped down on him, her juices leaving sticky trails on his groin, across the tops of his thighs. Ochako wasn't sure what was louder—the sound of their skin slapping each other or the sound of their screams—but she knew that it couldn't last forever.
She didn't need it to—she could have him whenever, wherever.
Her walls fluttered around him—a warning that she couldn't take much more. "Ka-Katsuki," she sobbed, furiously grinding down on his dick. His fingers circled her clit, Ochako's hips stuttering, her breath coming out in short, choppy gasps.
"I know, baby," Katsuki groaned. "I wanna watch you come on my dick."
Ochako tried to look at him, tried to focus on him, but there was only so much she could see when her vision whited out. Her pussy spasmed against his dick, doing her best not to let him go. Wetness be damned, Ochako couldn't bear the thought of him slipping out of her.
She felt a burst of warmth shoot through her—Katsuki's hands gripping her hips hard, his body stiffening underneath her.
"Please tell me you're on birth control," he breathed lightly, a small smile tickling his lips.
"I said you didn't have to worry 'bout it," Ochako laughed, planting a kiss to his cheek. SHe relaxed on him, resting her head against his body. "So, our bedroom?"
"Our bedroom, our apartment—whenever you want, it's here for you," he replied, his arm snaking around her lazily, holding her close. "I'll be telling all my friends we're engaged anyway."
"I have a lot of stuff over at Pretty Girl Avenue," she drawled. "You'd have to help me move."
"You'll have to show me where it is."
She snuggled into his chest, happy to show him more of who she was.
x
It took Ochako three and a half hours and two different train rides to make it back home. She vaguely remembered the trip taking two hours when she lived in the slums, but it wasn't like she had the time or train fare to visit often back then. Maybe she misremembered the trips—maybe she'd actually lost count of how long it actually took her to come home.
Or maybe, she didn't realize how far she'd come until she tried to retrace her steps.
She stepped off of the train platform and was greeted by a carpet of pink petals, laid on the ground as if they were expecting her arrival. They were purely decorative—she knew well enough that these trees didn't start blooming until winter hit in full force—but that didn't stop the excitement from building. She looked up at saw barren trees, beautiful brown bark twisting and turn as branches reached for the sky. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but Ochako swore she could smell their fragrant floral scent the minute she walked by.
She inhaled deeply before strolling past. Her home was beautiful, she'd always known that, but she couldn't allow herself to get captured here. Not when she had more important business to attend to.
It was a twenty-seven minute walk from the train station. That wouldn't change no matter how far she moved or how much money she made.
Ochako's mother was only twenty-seven minutes from the train station. That included the time it took to walk from the front gates of the cemetery to the plot where her ashes remained, collected in a pretty purple vase.
She took a seat in front of the vase, an invisible weight lifting from her shoulders.
"Hey Ma," she started, a small smile creeping on her face. "I'm actually doin' jus' fine. I know it's been a while since I came by. But I've got good news this time, I swear." She took a breath, unsure of where to begin. "I got a few new interests, made a couple friends, even got a boyfriend. An' I'm not full of shit this time—neither is he, I swear. I hope you ain't in a rush, 'cause we're nowhere close to the endin'."