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Bakugou is about 15 seconds from saying fuck it and ditching Deku at this Christmas gala when something across the room catches his eye: the most incredible ass in the observable universe.
It beckons him like a holy relic. It’s wrapped like a present in a perfectly skin-hugging swathe of satin—rich, scarlet red that reflects the ballroom light like a diamond. There might as well be a bow on it, too. Merry fucking Christmas. Looks like Deku will have to catch a cab after all.
Suddenly invigorated, Bakugou loosens his necktie a bit as he strides over to the dessert table. He normally wouldn’t bother making the first move, but his second whiskey of the night has him feeling bold. The owner of the ass has her chocolate-brown hair pulled back into a neat twist, exposing her pretty neck and shoulders. It’s like Santa got a peek in his head and saw the blueprint for his ideal woman, took it back to the workshop, and crafted her just for him.
Bakugou gets closer and clears his throat, fully prepared to dazzle this woman by introducing himself as Dynamight. Douchebag move? Absolutely. But it always works, and Bakugou’s last ounce of shame evaporated from his body 20 seconds ago. Sue him. He confidently yet casually approaches her on the right, swirling his whiskey glass like an asshole.
“Excuse me,” he begins, “I—“
The woman whips her head around like she’s startled. But it’s Bakugou who’s met with the jumpscare.
“CHEEKS?”
Jesus fucking christ. It’s Uraraka. Fucking Ochako. He hasn’t seen her since they were fresh out of high school. Last he heard, she took up with a rescue agency in some major city around the time he and Deku went abroad for international work. They’d been back for a couple of years and had started their own agency, but the chaos of getting all that sorted only just began to die down. Somehow, in the whirl of it all, Uraraka never re-entered his peripheral.
Until tonight, that is. Yeah, she was cute or whatever at UA, but Bakugou was too full of rage and regret to think about her beyond that. It took six years, but now she’s back in his line of sight, and he can’t find it in himself to look away. A wave of near-miss humiliation washes over him and hits him in layers. He was genuinely, truly, about to play the fucking Dynamight card on her. He would’ve offed himself in the men’s room.
Uraraka’s eyes go wide with excitement as she realizes who just sauntered up to her. She waves cartoonishly.
“Mhaugo!” Uraraka tries to say what sounds like his name, but can’t annunciate through her full mouth. Her cheeks are even rounder than usual, and various context clues like the near-empty cookie tray and a smear of chocolate frosting on her lip tell him they’re stuffed with desserts. Uraraka holds up a finger and makes a few more unintelligible noises as she covers her mouth and chews while Bakugou watches on, mortified yet unable to look away. She eventually finishes chewing, washes down her mouthful with a full flute of champagne, and wipes her lips with the back of her gloved hand. No longer encumbered, she fully turns to greet him with a smile.
“Bakugou!” She beams. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight! You never come to the holiday party, why are you here?”
Bakugou takes a moment to shake himself out of his stupor. “Deku forced me,” he manages to say, no longer stunned and mostly just reeling with relief that he didn’t use that fucking Dynamight line on her.
“Psh,” Uraraka tosses out a hand. “I didn’t think Deku could make you do anything.”
Bakugou scoffs, raising his whiskey glass to his snarling lips. “He threatened me. Said he’d tell his mom not to make me her Christmas toffee.”
Uraraka’s expression changes into one of deep, mutual understanding. She nods and puts a hand on her hip, voice dropping in pitch. “Oh, that toffee is good. I see your dilemma. Well, either way, I’m glad you came. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Uraraka smiles and turns her attention back to a silver tray of pretentious mini-tarts. Bakugou watches her as she wiggles her fingers and makes her selection.
“So how’s the agency been?” she asks as she fills a tiny plate with an assortment of festive treats.
“Busy,” Bakugou says, finishing off the last sip of his drink. “Growing, which is good. But growth comes with paperwork, and Deku has shit penmanship, so it’s on me.”
“Woof,” Uraraka sympathizes. “I can’t imagine. Working under a commercial hero agency is one thing, but running your own?” She shakes her head in awe then gives him one of those toothy, closed-eye smiles. “Well, I’m glad I get to say congratulations in person!”
Bakugou scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, thanks.” He mutters. Why the fuck does he feel bashful? He doesn’t like that shit at all.
“I’d suggest a toast,” Uraraka goes on, “but it’s bad luck to say cheers with an empty glass.” Bakugou squints an eye and tilts his head.
“I don’t think that’s a thing.”
“Sure it is! It absolutely is.”
“Nah,” Bakugou says. “I don’t buy it. That sounds like something you’d make up. Besides, there’s no such thing as luck.”
“Pfffft,” Uraraka huffs. “Oh, come on. You don’t believe in luck?”
“Nope,” Bakugou pops the last syllable with a cocksure smirk. “I believe in consequences. And I doubt tapping two empty glasses together is gonna lead to anything other than that.”
Uraraka’s smirk shifts to the side as she crosses her arms. “Okay, fine.” She raises her flute once more and nods to his empty glass. “Then a toast—”
Her eye glints in the light as she tilts his glass towards him. “—to your agency, to the holidays, and no such thing as luck.”
Bakugou’s eyes shift over her face once more. The round cheeks he remembers from UA are a familiar sight, but everything else about her face feels like it’s taken on a new light. She looks more regal, more sure of herself. She’s…she’s really pretty.
After a moment, he gives in and raises his empty rocks glass until it meets her flute with a tiny clink. Her big, sweet smile returns and makes her eyes crinkle at the edges. She then brings her attention back to the dessert table, gloved fingers wiggling as they hover over an assortment of mini tarts.
“You still in rescue work?” Bakugou asks. His whiskey glass is empty and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. Uraraka nods with an affirmative hum.
“The work has been great, but it’s hard to not get burnt out. I started taking some weeks out here and there to do some masterclasses at UA.” She plucks a delicate pastry from a shiny platter and shrugs. “It always excites me to see the next batch of heroes.”
She pops the pastry in her mouth and pauses. Her eyes roll back with a moan. “Oh,” she says, still chewing. “Bakugou, you have to try this, it’s so good.”
“Uh,” Bakugou hesitates. “I think I’m good, Cheeks—” Uraraka ignores his objections and grabs another identical pastry from the bunch. She holds it in front of his mouth. “Here, taste.”
For a second, Bakugou’s brain stalls as he contemplates his next move. He could just take the damn thing and feed himself. But something in the last five minutes has obliterated the logical brain cells in his head and rendered them utterly useless.
He doesn’t know what comes over him when he slowly opens his mouth. Uraraka cheerfully feeds him the one-bite treat with two delicate fingers and waits eagerly for his reaction as he chews.
The rich sweetness of dark chocolate coats his tongue. His heart is about to pound itself out of his ribcage. He tries to inconspicuously wipe his clammy hands on his pants without her noticing. By the time he swallows, he’s certain his face is the same shade as her damn dress. Uraraka tilts her head.
“Good, right?”
Bakugou clears his throat and nods. “Good,” he manages to say. Jesus, his throat is so dry. “I’m not really a sweets guy, though.”
Uraraka barks out a laugh. “That doesn’t surprise me in the least bit. I bet you’d like it if it had chili flakes sprinkled on top.”
“Damn right,” he snorts. Uraraka chuckles and their gazes linger for just a moment. Fuck, she’s cute. Was she always this cute? Were her eyelashes always that long, her lips always that soft-looking? The longer he looks at her, the more scrambled his brain gets. It’s making him think about doing something really, really stupid.
Fuck it.
“I can’t do all these desserts.” He blurts out. “I’m hungry for some actual food. And there’s a bar nearby that has good fried chicken.”
Uraraka presses her lips together and raises her eyebrows. “Fried chicken, hm?”
“Yeah,” he flicks his chin and swallows hard, holding his breath. “You wanna get out of here?”
For a moment, Uraraka tilts her head back and forth, considering the offer. She (hopefully) has no idea that Bakugou’s got the pulse of a person being hunted for sport. Finally, she shrugs, a coy smirk creeping over her lips.
“I do love fried chicken. Alright, I’m in.”
Fuck yeah. It’s a goddamn Christmas miracle he didn’t fumble that. Confidence and ability to breathe restored, Bakugou makes a move to turn over his shoulder. “We can sneak out through the service hall—”
“Oh, wait!”
Bakugou is stopped by satin-gloved fingers wrapping around his bicep.
“I could use your help, actually.” She continues. He raises an eyebrow and tries to ignore the weird jump in his chest.
“Here,” Uraraka reaches around and brings her purse between them, holding it open with both hands. “Help me get some of these in here.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrow, mouth falling slightly open. He takes a beat to look her up and down.
“C’mon!” She shakes her open bag at him for emphasis, and Bakugou blinks himself back to awareness.
“Holy shit, you’re being serious right now.”
“Of course I am!” Uraraka looks at him like he’s insane.
And maybe he is, because before he realizes he’s doing it, he reaches for one of the dessert platters and begins to drop the treats into her open bag.
“Perfect,” Uraraka praises him and shakes her bag a little bit. “Ooh! And a couple of those sugar cookies. Those are the best ones.”
Bakugou grabs a few star-shaped cookies and stows them away. “So do you like, do this every year?”
“Absolutely,” Uraraka says without hesitation. “I never have time to make desserts for myself, especially around the holidays. I look forward to these more than my birthday.”
She pauses for a moment and teeters her head with a squint. “I might be a little drunk as well.”
The way she snickers at her own jokes makes Bakugou snort a laugh. It’s infectious. Her confidence makes him feel like he’s talking to someone he’s never met before. He remembers her uncertainly from their days at UA, her self-doubt. But he doesn’t see any of that in front of him now. He wants to puzzle her out more, figure out who else she’s become since then.
And see who she is underneath that satin.
When Uraraka deems her purse to be sufficiently stocked with festive desserts, she dusts off her gloves and hoists the strap over her shoulder. “So—fried chicken, you said?”
Bakugou smirks. He looks back over his shoulder and spots the door to the service entrance hallway. He indicates it with a quick nod. “You ready?”
Uraraka nods. “Lead the way.”
They stick to the perimeter of the ballroom and casually stride toward their chosen escape. Uraraka does a quick peek around the room to make sure nobody’s looking as Bakugou reaches for the handle.
“Clear?”
“Clear,” she affirms. They slip out of the ballroom and find themselves at the end of a long, windowless hallway with concrete walls and fluorescent lights. Once the door closes behind them, the sounds from the gala are immediately dimmed to near silence. Bakugou makes note of a glowing exit sign.
“Should be able to go out the back from there,” he notes. Uraraka nods as they begin their trek.
There’s an anxious charge in the air as their footsteps echo in the large, empty corridor. Bakugou’s mind is in a thousand places at once. In the harsh light of the hallway, Uraraka’s satin dress shines even more intensely. He slows his steps every so often to let Uraraka trail in front of him, and each time he falls back, he gets another glimpse of that ass and feels his fingertips tingle. She always catches back up to him, though, and the third or fourth time it happens, she laughs.
“Why’re you so slow tonight? Too much whiskey, huh?” She cracks the joke and keeps walking, but Bakugou slows himself to a stop. His blood is running like magma through his veins. The same intrusive thought has been knocking on this door all night. He wants to let it win.
“You know that dress is criminal, right?”
The clicks of Uraraka’s heels suddenly stop. She turns over her shoulder.
“My…dress?”
“Yeah. I mean—” Bakugou keeps his hands in his pockets as he strides closer. Her back is still turned to him but she watches him over her shoulder with wide, interested eyes. The inches between them shrink, and that’s when Bakugou lets the intrusive thought win as he leans and speaks into her ear.
“—have you seen what your ass looks like in this thing?”
Uraraka’s breath catches in her throat. She stands perfectly still, like she’s waiting for him to make the next move. Bakugou takes the moment to bring his hand up to her waist. When she doesn’t immediately wrench it off, he begins to slide his palm down, over her hip, and around until he reaches her ass.
“I’ve been wanting to tear it off of you all fucking night.” He emphasizes his words with a slow squeeze, sinking his fingers into her satin-clad flesh. Uraraka gasps lightly.
“M-Me?” she whispers. “Really?”
Bakugou’s all in now. All cards on the table. He brings his other hand up to her waist and pulls her close against him.
“Really.”
Her ass is now fully pressed against his growing boner. Uraraka swallows when she feels him stiffen, and Bakugou’s mind starts to second-guess. Is he coming off too strong? Is this too weird? Is she even attracted to him? Fuck, he did not think this part through. His hard-on clouded his judgment and now he’s starting to internally spiral, he’s an idiot and an asshole and a pervert and—
Uraraka silences every thought when she whips around and stumbles against him, taking his face in her hands and crashing their lips together with an enthusiastic moan. Their teeth click against each other upon collision, but the clumsiness is quickly washed away as Bakugou takes the lead. His hands slide up and around her waist and back as her arms come up to wrap around the back of his neck. Their lips move in tandem, kneading together with heated, desperate intention. Ochako’s sweet moans drive Bakugou to the edge of insanity. In this moment, he wants her more than he’s ever wanted anything in his goddamn life, he’s sure of it. Her soft lips and hot, busy tongue drive him more wild with every moment.
Ochako gasps when he gently bites her lower lip and tugs. “God, I want you so bad,” he says, her lip still captured between his teeth. Bakugou watches her big eyes dart around the room for a moment before she pulls back.
“In here,” she whispers, taking his hand and turning around. “Now.”
Bakugou’s heart races and dick throbs. “You sure?” he asks, but she’s already leading him to a door marked, ‘STORAGE’. When she goes to turn the knob, it stays locked in place. “Damnit,” she hisses.
“Here,” Bakugou brushes her hand away and wraps his hand around the knob. There’s a quick pop, the faint smell of nitroglycerin, and then a small creak as the door gives way. Bingo.
“Damaging public property, are we?” Uraraka teases. Bakugou takes her hand and leads her through the door as he feels around for a light. He flicks a random switch and a single bulb from an overhead fixture flickers for a moment. After a quick scan of the room, he spots an empty slot of space next to a metal shelving unit off in the corner. Bakugou tugs Uraraka along with him and presses her against the wall until their mouths are barely a breath apart. She sighs as his hands slide along her satiny body and down over her ass.
“I’d do a lot worse for this ass.” He kisses her neck and squeezes her ass cheeks, digging his fingers into her flesh. Uraraka directs his mouth back to hers and kisses him hard, clasping her hands around the back of his neck. Their heated makeout quickly makes Bakugou’s dick swell and stiffen. He grips her asscheeks and pulls them slightly apart.
“God, I wanna fuck you,” he says breathily against her mouth. Uraraka pecks his lips once.
“Please,” she sighs, “I want it.”
Hearing the thread of desperation in her voice spurns him on. He brings his mouth down and licks at her exposed clavicle before gripping her tighter. “Lift your legs,” he urges. “I’ve got you.”
Uraraka swallows hard and nods. The dress’s high slit makes it easy for her to wrap her legs around his waist. He hears a sound like seams tearing and curses.
“Shit, was that your dress?”
Uraraka quickly shakes her head. “No, just my stockings. It’s fine. Here—” she reaches between them until her hands disappear under her dress. Bakugou hears another rip, this one made with intention. Uraraka blows a piece of hair out of her face as her hands return behind his neck with a smirk. “Did the rest for you.”
Bakugou bites his lip with a groan. “Fuck, Cheeks, that’s hot.” Even through his trousers, he can feel the warmth of her pussy against him. They pant into each other mouths, lips clumsily brushing as he quickly unfastens his pants and shoves his briefs down below his balls. The second he springs free, his heavy cock lands squarely on her bare pussy. They both moan at the contact.
“I want you,” she sighs, rolling her hips against him. “Need you inside.”
Her words hit him like a baseball bat to the shin. Bakugou captures her lips in another intense kiss. “Yeah?”
She nods. In the next minute, Bakugou grips her tight and guides himself inside of her waiting pussy. A sharp gasp escapes her mouth at the first press. He does everything in his power to hold himself back from slamming home and it’s making his knees fucking shake. He digs his fingers into her ass and slowly pushes inside while dragging her hips closer.
“Fuuuuuck,” he sighs. Uraraka whines along with him. When their hips are finally flush, they share an exhale of relief and a shiver. Bakugou feels her walls pulse around him and it sends his eyes rolling back in his head. He knows he has to be careful here, or else he’ll bust in about 30 seconds flat. He channels the discipline of a goddamn monk as he rocks his hips back and pulls out to the tip.
Uraraka apparently has other plans, though. Her nails dig into the back of his neck as she rolls her hips forward, pulling him back in until he bottoms out. She whimpers and squeezes around him.
“Don’t hold back,” she pleads. Bakugou readjusts and gets the crooks of his elbows beneath the backs of her knees until her legs dangle freely.
“I didn’t know you were like this,” he pants as he thrusts back in again.
“Cuz you didn’t know me,” Uraraka whispers back. A cheeky smile crosses her lips. “Now you do- ohh!”
Her head falls back as Bakugou picks up his pace and fucks her harder, driving a moan out of her mouth with every thrust. Uraraka dips her head forward and bites into his shoulder, trying to muffle her voice. It doesn’t work. Their skin slaps together loud enough that anybody walking by would be certain to hear them. Bakugou rolls his hips and angles her body, listening and feeling for a change. A sudden gasp that interrupts her mid-moan is the tell.
“You like that?” he mumbles right against her ear.
“Yes,” she whimpers, “R-Right there, please—”
Bakugou decides he’d trade both his kidneys to feel her cum on his cock. A bead of sweat drips down his temple. He bites his lip and doubles down his efforts until her voice starts to shake.
“B-Bakugou…”
He nips at her ear. “I want you to cum for me,” he whispers. “You gonna cum for me, Cheeks?”
“Uh huh,” she mewls. Her hands slide into his hair and he can feel her fingernails dig into his scalp even through her gloves. Her pitch climbs and climbs until her voice catches on a squeak. Bakugou feels her pussy suddenly tighten, pulse, then spasm around his cock in intense little spurts. She cums with a punted cry and trembles as her orgasm rocks through her.
“Fuck, good girl,” he slows his pace and kisses her cheek. As the aftershocks subside, Uraraka mouths her way back to his lips and captures them in a deep, satisfied kiss. When her tongue dips into his mouth, it’s like she punched in a cheat code to bring him right to the fucking edge in less than a second. Before he knows it, his hips are moving on their own, fucking her hard as he chases his own end.
“Gonna cum,” he pants against her lips. Uraraka squeezes around his cock once more and it hits him like a freight train.
“Fuck!” He pulls out as fast as he can and shoots ropes of hot cum against the wall. Uraraka hums and kisses his jaw through it, holding tight until he’s finally spent.
The room goes comfortably still as they both catch their breath. Uraraka eventually lets her head droop forward onto his shoulder with an exhausted little laugh.
“That was…woah,” she sighs. Bakugou noses her temple and places a kiss against her messy hair.
“Here, lemme get your legs.” Very carefully, he lowers his arms and lets Uraraka drop her legs until her heels click against the floor. Even in the dim light of the storage closet, the evidence of their encounter is written all over them. Uraraka readjusts the top of her dress as Bakugou tucks himself back in his pants.
Once they’re somewhat reassembled, they carefully sneak out of the storage closet and peek around the corners.
“Looks like the coast is clear,” Uraraka says as she straightens out her dress. Bakugou goes to close the door behind them, but the melted latch refuses to keep it locked. He shrugs and leaves it for someone else to take care of. Suddenly, Uraraka gasps.
“My purse!”
Bakugou turns and sees her bag resting on its side in the middle of the hallway. Uraraka waddle-jogs in her slightly-too-high heels over to the abandoned purse. She grabs it and immediately opens it, examines its contents, then exhales a sigh of relief.
“The desserts are safe!” She calls from down the hall, raising the bag in the air like a prize wrestling belt. Bakugou strolls over, hands in his pockets.
“You and the damn desserts.” He shakes his head and meets her where she stands. His hand slides over her waist as they head down the hall toward the exit.
“Don’t worry,” Uraraka playfully pats him on the chest. “I saved some room for you.”
Bakugou smirks to himself and pulls her in closer, his hand snaking back down to rest on her ass. “Well, Merry-fucking-Christmas to me.”