Whim

Uraraka looked up at UA High School, feeling strange to have visited the campus twice now in so many months. Last time had been to get All Night's advice. She has sought him out.

This time, she has been called to the school. It was her day off and she didn't mind the trip down memory lane, enjoying walking the halls and remembering her own rigorous course work.

Still, she had to wonder what could be so important that she needed to come all the way down to the school. She paused in front of the 1A classroom, let out a small breath and then opened the door.

She paused when she realized no one was yet there, and looked around. She glanced at her watch, fiddled with the twine necklace she wore anxiously, the tiny manufactured firepops going off inside the connected vile as always.

She sat behind one of the front row desks and frowned. She was on time.

She suddenly heard the unzipping of something nearby and Aizawa popped his body up from behind his desk, his normal deadpan now focused on her.

"Aizawa-sensei, did you call this meeting?" Uraraka asked. The teacher was silent, not answering her. His attention was broken from her suddenly when he heard more footsteps in the hall.

Just then, Bakugou came through the door, blinking when he saw his girlfriend there. "Uh…"

Uraraka shrugged, as Bakugou made his way around to the seat next to hers and sat down, sliding red irises toward her in curiosity.

She shrugged again, and then both of them turned their attention to Aizawa as he dug in his sleeping bag and pulled out a few newspaper clippings. He set them down in front of them, and then glared down at the two of them.

"I thought I taught you both better than this."

All the clippings were various pictures of them kissing, sharing food, walking down the street together hand-in-hand, even fighting side by side against villains.

"Kuso, can you not? Stupid Hot-Cold already gave me this damn lecture," Bakugou snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching in the desk.

"It isn't about a lecture anymore. You two have barely graduated. It's been almost a year which means you not being affiliated with UA is still fairly new." He set down a stack of letters. "These have been coming to the dorms."

Uraraka picked one up and unfolded it, her eyes trailing down to the writing. She blanched and dropped the letter, eyes suddenly filled with tears.

Bakugou immediately sat up straight, reaching out and taking her hand. "Kao?"

"She has a right to be upset," Aizawa said, pacing the classroom suddenly. "They're death threats. Some claim to be from the League. Others from random non-affiliated villains. Each other is addressed to one of you, threatening to kill or harm the other in front of you."

"Teme! I'll kill them first!" Bakugou growled, eyes cleric. "Let then try to lay a hand on Ochako!"

"The school isn't the only ones getting them. Your places of employment have been as well—they called me and asked me to speak with you because—"

"They figured someone who hates the media as much as you might be able to talk some sense into us," Uraraka murmured quietly.

"You just got that job, didn't you?" Aizawa asked her, his voice softer than usual—these weren't his students anymore. He could speak to them as equals. Uraraka nodded.

"You two, it isn't a crime to be together. But in our line of work, you can't be this public with this level of intimacy. Bakugou, you've given the entire world the impression you are untouchable, a raging force to be reckoned with," Aizawa murmured. "Which means anything you might be soft toward becomes an automatic target."

"Ochako can handle herself!" Bakugou argued, standing up, slamming his hands down on the desk and glaring at the teacher.

"Maybe so. And she'll have to do a lot of that just doing her job normally on a day to day basis. Why have you two then added extra work to that by turning your relationship into this spectacle?" Aizawa asked, holding up a clipping. "Many of the students from 1A are dating and none of them have had the short-sightedness to do this. It's—"

"Reckless," Uraraka and Bakugou answered together, and the blonde 'tch'ed and stood up, crossing his arms over his chest as he trailed to the back of the room, angry but thoughtful. He clenched his jaw, furrowed his brow and the muscles in his arms tensed and contracted.

Suddenly, two strong, slim arms slid around his middle from behind, gentle and focused, offering support and confidence, trust and understanding. He lowered one hand to rest on the interlocked ones on his stomach, and he lifted one to his lips.

"We need to take a break," he murmured.

"I know," she whispered back, kissing his shoulder blade through his shirt.

"Just for long enough to make it seem like we aren't together," he murmured, glancing over his shoulder at her. "I'll be damned if I'm the reason you ever got hurt. And there'd be hell to pay."

She smiled against his back. "I love you, Katsu. It won't be forever."

He nodded and turned around in her arms, cupping her cheeks in his hands and smirking. "Damn your pretty round cheeks for always makin' me fall harder." He groaned and growled and punched a desk hard enough to crack it, using his quirk to propel his fist.

"You're paying for that."

Bakugou glared at Aizawa.

Uraraka pulled away from Bakugou and chewed her lip. "How long until it blows over?"

"Hard to say," Aizawa said with a shrug. "It could be anywhere from a few weeks to….a few months. But it might speed the process along if one of you—"

/

"Me, and the hero Uravity are done," Bakugou, as Ground Zero said to a reporter who was getting a little too nosy for her own good, after the finish of a battle with a villain. As per Aizawa's advice, one of them needed to tell the public they were through. He knew it'd be too hard for Uraraka to pretend she didn't want him anymore when she cared deep to her core about everything that mattered to her.

But the public expected him to be a hardass. It wouldn't be a hard sell to convince them someone like him might get tired of someone like her.

"She got pretty annoying and clingy. Something I might expect from a girl who fawned all over Deku," he replied. The words were like acid on his heart and they made him want to vomit. The truth was he loved Uraraka more now than he had even just the day before. And everyday he loved her deeper. Having to lie about that didn't feel good.

When the reporter was satisfied with what she had heard, she thanked him and went on her way.

Bakugou went back to the office to finish his report on the fight, and then went home, his heart heavy. As he stepped into his apartment, every inch of it reminded her of him. Especially the drum kit in the corner of the room. Her special present for him because she had gotten a job. How could anyone be so selfless?

How could he ever deserve someone so selfless?

He sat down, the environment dark and quiet, and he closed his eyes. I miss her, he realized. He pulled out his phone and sent her a text.

I love you, marui kao.

There was no response for a pregnant moment, and then: Luv u, Katsu 3

He snorted at how ridiculously cute the response was, and groaned, standing. He paced back and forth in front of his couch, and then growled and dialed her number.

It trilled, then: "Katsuki, we're supposed to be avoiding contact. What are you doing?"

"Losing my damn mind," he mumbled, sighing. "I just needed to hear your voice. Sorry, kao."

"It's okay—I know this is hard." A pause, and he could swear he heard a sniffle. Dammit, she was crying. He hated when she cried. "It's hard for me too."

"It's just until our pictures stop being in the paper," he murmured, scratching the back of his head, and squeezing his crimson eyes closed. "I really fuckin' love you. I hope you know that."

"I love you too," she whispered back, and he could almost hear her warm smile over the phone. There was a heavy silence, and then they said their goodbyes and he hung up.

His heart was heavy. For the past few months, she has been his everything. He hasn't even realized until that moment how deeply she's burrowed into every crevice of his heart and life. He didn't want to be without her.

Ever.

Eyes snapping open, he picked up his jacket and ran out of his apartment.

/

Uraraka sat at her kitchen table, her chin rested on her palms, her cheeks damp from crying. She missed Bakugou. A lot.

They had been dating almost a year now, and the idea of potentially hitting their one year anniversary apart from one another was painful. She didn't want to be separate from him, not in any aspect of her life.

If this was what the true love from cheesy princess movies felt like in the real world, she could almost understand being cheesy.

She sighed and picked up ger empty tea cup, turning to carry it into the kitchen when someone pounded loudly on her door. She frowned, brows furrowed, suddenly cautious as she pressed her fingers to random things around her house, making them float and readying them to drop on an intruder or a villain in a surprise attack.

She carefully pulled the door open, one palm out to make the person in the other side float as well if they were an intruder, but was taken aback when familiar fingers grabbed her cheeks roughly, and familiar lips ravaged hers without hesitation.

"K-Katsuki…" she whispered between the heated kisses, before she pulled away. "Katsuki, What—"

"I got everything I ever wanted," he said, suddenly, stepping in and closing the door. "I got to go to UA, graduate with high marks, become a damn hero, and all of it seems so meaningless with…"

He paused and growled, rubbing at his face, the idea of such strong and deep-seeded emotions still foreign to him. "Without you."

Uraraka's expression grew soft, the words settling deep in her heart. "Katsu…."

"Look I ain't—I know it's sudden, and it's—I'm not trying to copy IcyHot or some stupid shit like that, I—" He dropped onto both of his knees, took her hands and kissed them, and Uraraka's eyes widened.

"Katsuki, What—"

"Let's get married," he said, his face deadly serious. "Maybe I don't have some stupid, special ring and I know we haven't even been dating a whole year but—I can't even go an hour without wanting to punch a wall or Deku's face if there's no hope of seeing your face everyday. Your stupid, beautiful round face that just makes life bearable. Makes the anger lessen. If you aren't my future, Ochako, I don't—"

He 'tch'ed, realizing how mushy he sounded and he chuckled and stood, pushing hair out of her eyes and kissing her forehead. "I don't have one."

"Oh…." she breathed, and her brows furrowed. "Are…are you sure?"

"Yeah. Let's get married. Right now."

"Now ?"

"Look," Bakugou mumbled, sighing. "It's always gonna be dangerous. And maybe Aizawa-senseI is right and we should not be seen in public together. But if I can come home and find you there every night—and know that that's….my forever…being apart from you otherwise….it won't be so damn hard."

She stopped to try and process what he was saying. He wanted to marry her. He wanted to elope. He wanted her to live with him. Same home. Same bed. Which also meant….

Her face lit up like a Christmas tree, and she pressed her hands to her cheeks and began to giggle nervously.

Bakugou blinked, confused suddenly, and flicked her on the forehead gently. "Oi, marui kao, where'd you go?"

Uraraka shook the thoughts from her mind, and looked up at him. "You really want to do this? There's no going back. What if you get sick of me?"

"Not a chance in hell."

She was warmed by his coarse words, and she smiled, before nodding. "Okay. But we won't be able to tell anyone for a while. At least not until after Yaomomo's wedding. I wouldn't want to steal her moment."

"This ain't for anyone but us, babe," he whispered, sliding his arms around her. "For now. But if you think I'm not gonna give you the big damn wedding you deserve someday, you're crazy."

Uraraka laughed and hugged him tightly around his muscled abdomen, burying her face in his chest. "You're too good to me."

"That's my line," he mumbled back, chin resting in her head, before he smirked. "Let's go get married."

/

The next morning, Ochako woke up, feeling warmer and safer than she ever had before, and she looked over at the man sleeping next to her. And she remembered their night. Their heated, unhinged night together, celebrating a decision made on s whim but built on a lifetime, and she blushed darkly.

Neither was wearing a ring. Too dangerous, too conspicuous. But both were still wearing the necklaces they'd given each other on separate special occasions. And it was enough for now.

Bakugou Ochako, she thought to herself, and smiled, leaning over and pressing a kiss to her new husband's mouth, causing him to stir. He smirked into the lip-lock, and growled, grabbing her by her bare waist and turning them over.

"Didn't get enough last night?" He asked with a wide grin, red eyes glinting down at her.

"I'll never have enough of you," she whispered back, and then proceeded to prove it to him, allowing him to ravish her for a second time in a handful of hours.

When they were finished, she stood in the kitchen, draped in his skull t-shirt from high school, sipping coffee and leaning against her boyfriend's—husband's, would she ever get used to that?—arm as he stood at the counter, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his toned hips, and chopped onions. and scrambled eggs to make them both breakfast.

She remembered seeing him shirtless on his birthday almost a year prior and wondering what it would be like to be intimate with him. It was better than she had anticipated. But it wasn't even the physical aspect that made it special. It was that this rough, hard-headed, stubborn, coarse hero of man could soften his layers enough to want to spend his forever with her.

That meant he saw something worthwhile in her, and nothing in the world would ever give her more strength than to have someone like Bakugou Katsuki see her worth.

Things were about to get harder, and she knew that. They were going to have to do a lot of hiding—hiding their marriage, hiding their relationship as a whole, lying to the public, lying to friends even.

But she had a home now. A real home. Not just a place to stay in between missions. Not even his apartment. No.

He was home.