Kacchako One Shot because I am sad that I can’t write and I was just trying to get myself going on something. Not happy with it but whatever my dudes. *shrug* Ink is dry 😦
She hung upside down on the twisting tree. The bark was surely cutting into the silk of her thighs, kissing where he wanted to kiss.
He swallowed instead, shoved his hands into his pockets like he was rooting around for stars in the voids of space and squinted through the brightness of the setting sun.
“You look like a moron, chubface.”
He wanted to say something kinder. Or forget kinder, perhaps more true. He wanted to articulate the way her neck curved from shoulder to jaw line inspired thoughts of dew drops and ribbons and spilled gold. He wanted to whisper about the way her cheeks flush with blood rushing to her head were ripe apples begging his lips to feel the smoothness of her skin.
He squinted some more through the glare of the sun’s gold and caught the scowl on her face flash through her brows and away, forgotten like the wisps of cloud in the distance.
“Takes one to know one, Bakugo.”
He smirked because what else was he going to do? She was right, and she was wrong because he had lied. She was no moron. Not even close.
“What exactly are you doing?” He asked instead, voice gruff as it always was when speaking to her. Thoughts always got tangled on the way out the door of his mouth, tripping and twisting in piles so that he always sounded a little bit like he was getting over a cold. Truth was, he was trying to get over her instead.
With her arms crossed only the tiny dark spot of her belly button was in danger of being indecently exposed. He made a point not to let his eyes settle there in the valley at her navel lest his face mutiny and flash red like the glare of a traffic light.
“Exactly? Well. I’m hanging upside down in this tree. I was, before you interrupted me so rudely, working on my abs.” And she laughed because she clearly didn’t think much of her abs as she patted her stomach and flexed, chiseling out the hard planes of muscle that somehow managed to hide under the softness of her frame most of the time.
He called her chubface because her cheeks were peach round and inspired thoughts of delicious things in his mouth and his mind. He berated her when she sat for breathers during class, and flicked the sweat off her forehead hard enough to bruise the skin because otherwise he might slide his fingers through her hair and how would he explain that?
“You don’t need to work on your abs.” Bakugo scoffed, crossing his own arms as he kicked at something on the ground. The weed that had the bad luck of being in his way shuddered and sprung back, spraying dandelion wisps through the air in indignation.
“Uh. You literally just called me chubface when you so nastily said hello as you approached.” Uraraka grumbled, grunting softly as she hauled herself up onto the branch and into a sitting position with her back to him and face to the dusk.
“It’s not my fault your face is round.” He grunted, muting the part where he was so glad.
Uraraka laughed,shaking her head as she turned back. “Did I say it was?”
He glared, rolling his eyes before walking to flick her swinging foot out of the way, folding his arms into a pillow for his chin next to her on the branch, eyes focused on the sun starting to sink behind the skyscrapers.
The first time he had bumped into her at the tree had been a real accident. A rib he had not realized was actually broken not bruised had caused him to see spots on his way back to dorms from the training gym. Stumbling on his own with only the stars and clouds above for company he had grabbed onto the tree trunk for balance and accidently gripped her bare knee instead.
Her squeak had been the last thing he heard before he passed out, and he always told himself it was from the fact that he had been unable to take a deep breath into wounded lungs. It had nothing to do with the fact that her stunned blushing face had made the world tilt so nastily on it’s axles.
“Do you always train after dinner?” She dared, because thoughts of how often they met for a brief irritable conversation were also floating through her head as well. Bakugo shrugged the muscled shoulders on his spine, tired and content with the smell of her in his nose and the roughness of the bark beneath his skin to keep him tethered.
“What else is there to do?”
“Well, I study a lot.” Uraraka replied. “Sometimes I socialize, you know. Like most kids.”
“I’m not most kids.”
“No.” Her laugh surprised him mildly, enough to flick his gaze in her direction to catch the spread of her lips in a smile and the rise and fall of her ribs as she breathed through her giggles. “No, you’re not.”
The laugh confused him. Was she teasing or making fun? Was she amused because it was a bad a thing or a good thing?
Something of his puzzlement must have showed on his face because she smiled, turning back to the dying sun calmly. “Don’t snap at me. I’m not laughing at you, just at me. Of course you’re not most kids. Of course not.” She shook her head, leaning back a little to take a breath. “That’s why you, and Deku-kun and Todoroki-kun and so many of you are so…” she frowned a little, something like envy or hunger flashing over her face, dampening her mirth. “That’s why I’m so far behind.”
Bakugo’s frown went from puzzled to furious. “What the fuck?”
“Never mind.” Uraraka grumbled, pink lighting her face with embarrassment at what she had foolishly admitted. Hastily she jumped from the branch, dusting off her legs and hands hurriedly. “Forget it!”
There was no forgetting her though. There was the intricate pattern of the tree on the back of her legs, making his hands itch to smooth the skin. There was a mildly defeated slump to her shoulders and the flicker of gold in her hair as she scrambled to get away from him and her embarrassment.
Words, as always wanted to punch out of his mouth. Words which he could not say. Words about how she needed to think more of herself, about how close of a call he had had when facing her one on one. How his heart had stuttered and stopped and restarted on a different beat when she finally went down.
Instead he snorted. “Are you seriously just running away like a coward?”
“I’m not a coward.” Uraraka shouted over her shoulder. “But unnecessarily fighting is not the kind of hero I want to be and you-”
“I what?” Right at her heels Bakugo didn’t have to pretend to snarl. “What have you got to say, chubface?”
“You’re just picking a fight with me, as usual.” Ochako snapped finally, brow furrowed. “What is your problem?”
“My problem?” HIs hand had moved, grabbing her wrist so hard she yelped to a stop as he spun her around. “What the hell sort of attitude is that?” He shook her a little then, because to hold her still with her face pinched and her jaw tight was not distracting enough from the way his heart stuttered. “All you’re doing is whining!”
“I am not whining!”
“Oh I’m so far behind.” His voice usually so gravelly and rough took on a gaudy painfully girly squeal. “Everyone else is so much better than-”
He should have expected it. Maybe he even hoped she would but when it happened it left him slack jawed. The wrist he had not been holding came flying out of nowhere, flat palmed and clumsy with her fury it collided with his ear and half his face making a burst of pain crescendo abruptly on his eardrum at the same time that his voice gasped out a “Fuck!”
“Bakugo you… you can’t just grab me and-” Uraraka began, as stunned as he was by the tingling feeling in her hand and the mildly stunned expression on his face washing away to a broad smile dangerously close to beaming.
“Now that,” He growled, “That’s more like it.”
It was Ochako’s turn to gape, to feel her throat tighten as a million thoughts sparked and burst to life inside her like the stars above and the blow of power available in his hands at all times.
Among all the rumbling bombs exploding in her head one sent shrapnel through the pathways of her brain, rerouting long standing pathways, rebuilding worn highways.
He smiles.
Ochako felt the tingle up and down her spine like the caress of a lightning bolt.
He smiles and then…
Bakugo flicked her forehead hard, making her wince but not able to penetrate the shrieking silence of her realization. “Don’t whine. Fight. That’s what you’re better at.”
a/n: *sheepish wave* Hiyo! I’m new to the Kocchako fandom, but I’m here, all strung up on this ship. There’s going to be a new season of MHA soon and I’m just all over the place with excitement. I have had this story sort of sitting at the back of my head for a bit, but I’m very very nervous. This is just the little bit before the bigger portions. I don’t want to call them Parts or Chapters because I don’t know how big this is actually going to be.
like always, I’m trying to contain this thing from getting out of hand, as my stories do tend to do. Um. so yeah.
Here’s… a thing. *nervous laugh* bye. -Ink
How had they ended up this way?
Uraraka parted her lashes, so wet they hurt her eyes and when she breathed the shudder of the air made her think of drowning.
“B..Bakugo?"
The miscalculation was a costly one. It was a debt that had to be paid and she could taste the metal like coins in her mouth but knew it to be blood.
On her lips. On her cheeks, sliding down the bridge of her nose the water trickled and when her eyes were finally able to see there was only the heavens above splattered with the paint of the rain on the dark canvas of the boiling black sky.
"Bakugo?” It was a sob now, a tearful mess of a name as she tried and failed to move her legs. “Bakugo, please."
The cement beneath her spine was studded with debris digging hard into her skin, demanding more blood. It ached and burned and yet her mind slotted the list of agonies in absent acknowledgement, more focused on the name on her lips and the howl of the wind that answered instead of him.
"Bakugo!”
“Fuck."
It was such a soft groan and yet unlocked a torrent of tears in her chest so that she was not just crying but sobbing, eyes closed against the downpour of the storm above she wept, joining the rain in it’s torrent.
"Cut that out.” His voice was more than just rough. Wet with the rain, and sloppy with the blood coming from his mouth when she opened her eyes once more the sky was blocked by the soaked mane of his blonde hair and the blood stained mess that was his chin.
“Sorry.” Uraraka replied, although she was not sorry and her tone suggested so. “I just thought maybe you were dead. It seemed the appropriate reaction."
"The appropriate reaction if I’m dead is to get the fuck up and go kick some ass. I am not going to be avenged with tears, for fucks sake.” He grumbled, shifting further down her splayed body to inspect the mess holding her legs down.
“Crying.” He continued, hands measuring the weight of the cement blocks pinning her to the ground. “Like some sort of useless baby.”
“You’re whining.” Uraraka dared, light headed as she tried to breathe and found to her mild concern that she could not draw in a proper breath. “You’re whining like a baby yourself."
"It’s not whining.” Bakugo snarled and grunted hard with the effort of pushing on the stone at an angle that would not crush her feet more. “I’m ranting. I don’t fucking whine."
"You rant.” Uraraka nodded, her breath more and more shallow. “Right.”
“Hey.” Any effort he was putting into shoving her free stopped, and suddenly his hands were on her shoulder, his face inches from her own so that finally, finally the rain stopped falling on her face to dilute her tears.
“Stop it, if you fall asleep I will beat you awake."
"Stupid.” She smiled wanly, amused to see what looked like fear on his enraged face. “This isn’t sleep.”
“Don’t.” Taking her face in his hands he searched for the fading light in her gaze.
"Ochako, goddamnit if you die on me I will fucking-“
"What? Kill me?” If she had had the oxygen to do it she would have laughed, instead she choked on the rapidly filling lung on her left side, punctured by the rib that had snapped at her fall, only now making it’s presence known with the warm and almost welcome tsunami of pain that enveloped her.
“Ochako. Ochako don’t-”
Only after her eyes closed and the pain went from warm to cool darkness did she finally realize…
Ink Child Writing 