A/N: My fear about this story is that Uraraka and Bakugou are progressing sexually faster than they are romantically!

But you know, look at it like this: they're both stubborn people who will go to the ends or the earth to deny how they feel about it, but they can't deny their sexuality and physical arousal around each other. Maybe once they wake up from their hormonal stupor, they'll care about what other people think. Until then, anything goes behind closed doors.

The Boy Who Cried Love

A surge of adrenaline rushed through her blood. "Date?!" she screamed before the word settled into her like a brick into water. No way. Blanket wrapped around her head, she leaned in closer to read his expression. While she typically had confidence in reading Bakugou, she examined the vibrant fluster on his cheeks and the glossy frustration in his red eyes like she would view a painting at a museum. His strong jaw, handsome eyes, and reliable-looking shoulders all came together. He looked like a human rather than a Bakugou.

While she had never stopped to think of Bakugou as a lover sort of person, that did not mean that she could never think of him as a lover. In fact, a smile grew in her cheeks. She tried to stifle the felicity and freedom that captivated her once troubled heart, for she just knew that Bakugou could not possibly think of her in that way. This had to be some kind of power play. Up until that moment, he had just been talking about marriage and quirks and making her his, but this situation was different, right? Her cheeks burned, and if he could see the pleasant shock in her eyes, then maybe he could have stopped himself.

But his fear gave way to the pitch black darkness of the closet.

Bakugou was scared. Time was passing and she was not saying anything. By the time the lightning flashed through the cracks of the closet door once more, he had regained his bitter composure. Furrowing his brow, he stuck his tongue out and sneered his most delinquent and callous sneer yet, "Oi, you didn't actually believe me, did you?"

Don't.

"You really think I'd want to go on a date with you?"

What are you saying?

"You're 100 years too early to see someone like me get soft enough for that shit."

You love her. She makes you weak.

"Holding hands, sharing food, and confessing sappy shit - you didn't actually think that sounds like something a badass like me would do, did you?"

You're ruining it.

"All I want to do is feel you up and have you pop out some kids for me in a couple years. Marriage is just to mark my territory."

She doesn't deserve you.

"So don't get your hopes up."

Get away, Roundface. Run.

Pressing his hands against the sides of his head, Bakugou brought his knees towards his body. He panted after the acrimonious rant, and he expected to hear her sniff or cry or anguish, but instead he only heard more silence. Sliding his hands down, he covered his ears. He couldn't bear the wait.

Uraraka grabbed his wrist after leaning forward - their eyes inches apart, she failed to flinch. After all, they had been much closer than that before when they embraced one another under the sheets. "What's wrong? It's okay. I didn't think you were serious or nothin'," she assured him in a soft, even voice as if she were speaking to a child or an animal.

I don't deserve you.

Absolute horror speared through Bakugou's wide, red eyes. Tears threatened to pour as they glossed the surface of his eyes. Of course, she understood him. That was the worst response she could have given him. Pity? Sympathy? Understanding? Genuine concern for his pathetic state?

"You say a lot of stuff you don't mean, and I know you like to tease me," she smiled. "I also know that you like spendin' time with me, or else, you wouldn't be here with me right now, right? You came all the way to this town just to check on me." Despite her soft smile, she beared doubt about his attachment to her.

Bakugou didn't fool Uraraka with his scathing rant. By his primal instinct he wrapped his arm around the small of her back and brought her near him. However, the sensation felt rather depraved like he, a barbarian, forced her, a fucking celestial goddess, further into his trap. He would kill to have the guts to say, "I love you," but until then, he'd refrain from engaging in whatever this was.

Pressing her forehead to his, Uraraka smiled as she closed in the short yet passionate and hot kiss as she tasted the satisfying flavor of his sweet tongue before sharply pulling away. She gasped, "Bakugou! You're sick, aren't you?" The apparent heat had scorched her forehead.

While his face had reddened, she spiked his temperature further with that sudden kiss. He pulled away and got to his feet before opening the door. "I'm gonna step out. Sounds like the storm ended a while ago. I'll bring back some food," he flatly announced.

Uraraka clutched the plush blanket around her head like a bonnet. Intrigue and wonder filled her heart as she watched Bakugou's large, muscular back exit the closet. He evoked the image of a hunter going out for food for his wife and family which led the girl to ponder: what if she dated Bakugou?

Curling up into a ball, she completely covered her face and squealed, "Kyah!" He had rejected her faster than she could fully realize that maybe Bakugou was attractive, kind-hearted, and interesting enough to be her type. Perhaps, he met her needs.

Surely, shifting infatuation from Midoriya to his former friend and rival, Bakugou could not be an easy feat. Unless.

She liked Bakugou all along!

No. Silly. That couldn't be it. He would never like her in that way. Too many drama TV shows, too many shoujo comics, too much time with the brute may not have led her to believe his chide remarks about her, but her mind wandered too far from the light and deep into the shadows of Bakugou Katsuki.

She heard the door close behind Bakugou before she had a chance to ask to come along, but maybe she could use the time alone to think and calm her busy nerves. While she considered herself to be a confident and capable warrior, tonight she felt like a weak and helpless maiden that eagerly awaited her lover's return.

Although the storm had passed, she gulped at the thought of facing a prolonged bout of solitude. Alone with her thoughts.

Hours passed in the damned hotel room as Uraraka rolled around alone in bed next to the vibrant phallic objects that she had found stored around the room. With a heavy sigh, her mind wandered to her obfuscated admirer. Wouldn't the mattress be much more comfortable if Bakugou filled the cold spaces with his rigid and hot body?

Uraraka's heartbeat bled into the vacant room and filled every corner that Bakugou's voice had left absent. The room was only hot in temperature, but if she allowed her mind to consider his sensual physique of hardened arms and defined, sweaty abs, she could attest that with his large muscles and artistic definition, most girls should say that he was attractive.

Including her.

She panted before sitting up and crossing her legs on the black, satin sheets of the full-size bed. Her disheveled hair had grown wilder by the minute as she spent his absence twisting and turning throughout the remainder of the evening.

Where had he gone? She desperately yearned for his company once more - just to talk. The solitude bored her. Over an hour had passed and she could have sworn that the convenience store was next door, but she knew not to obsess too much. He could take care of himself.

Throughout her mixture of angst, adolescent hormones, and longing, she snapped away from her cycle to worry for Bakugou. He had a fever, and he had yet to return.

Grabbing her shoes, she got her stuff together and headed out the door.

The thick walls did their best to insulate the moans of pleasure, but Uraraka could still hear the echoes of sex as she paced down the maroon carpeted hallway to the stairwell. She recalled the streamline of pleasure that Bakugou fed to her like a smooth and captivating milky-way and how his volition truncated the madness on his whim. He left her not high and dry but down and wet once again.

Mixed with her anxious concern, innate resentment worked itself into her muddled consciousness. She would either save him or punish him. Either way, she had to find the man that made her heart explode with anticipation, fear, and desire.

"That could be us," said her adolescent mind before Uraraka slapped her pink cheeks and wept. Why did her mind go there? Of course, she wasn't ready, but she had been thinking about such a sensual activity as if it had been inevitable. The young, blossoming woman pressed her thighs together as she walked. This must have all been part of his elaborate plan to subdue her.

By the time she reached the slick sidewalk, she noticed how the relentless autumn winds caused her to shiver. The rain fell steadily among the absence of thunder or lightning. No jacket, no umbrella, no sense. Her fear for his safety kept her going. She couldn't turn back.

The convenience store should have been around the corner, and as she neared the edge, her heart sank. What if he wasn't there? What if someone kidnapped him again?

Her tunnel vision to the lit windows of the store had her sprinting.

Before she could finally look to see if he was there, a surge of instinct hit her like a bolt of lightning. She turned around. Glancing behind her, hot tears fell straight to the ground from her round, brown eyes and faster than her raging heartbeat.

There he was. "Katsuki!" she yelled louder than what was necessary to the boy passed out on the green bench in the wet shadows of the store. His arm and leg slumped over the side, and as she neared him to confirm and comfort him, she sobbed at his placid face. Within the rays of the headlights from cars that passed by, she wondered when she last witnessed him sleep.

Relaxed brow, emotionless frown, she thought he looked breathtaking. Not only did his profile astonish her as a stark contrast to the scowl he had during his rant of rejection, but pleasantly, his appearance enveloped her like a blank canvas that she could paint whatever vibrant or pastel colors she saw fit. And, my, how her mind wandered.

She saw all the strength, integrity, and compassion she ever wanted in a lover.

Bakugou had his limp arm drape over the side of the bench as he tightly held onto an assortment of sweet and spicy snacks along with a few savory cups of ramen. Why did his minute attention to her desires make her heart beat wildly?

He didn't wake after all the commotion. Pressing the back of her hand against his forehead, she realized how high his fever had gotten. Shamelessly, she stroked the side of his cheek with her fingertips and watched him levitate. "Let's go, okay, Bakugou? I'll take care of you," she sent her assurance against his unconscious ears.

Whether or not this was her fault didn't matter, she had to get him back to the hotel. So then, taking him by the wrist, she crossed his arms around her neck before pulling his legs to her side for a weightless piggyback ride.

His nose nuzzle into her neck as he softly exhaled warm breaths into one of the most sensitive spots or her body. Only for a moment, she noticed the chills that he sent her with every breath. However, then was not the time for raging hormones.

As she stepped into the store, the senior cashier gave her a look of confusion with a tilted head and frown. She wasn't there for his approval. If anything rubbed off on her from Bakugou, perhaps this variation of resilience topped it all.

From her upbringing in a struggling household, she learned how to nurse herself back to health. Her parents always worked, so she had to take care of herself and go to middle school no matter what. It paid off, and she intended to give Bakugou the same treatment.

Picking up a fever reducer, she assumed that he also needed a decongestant by the way that heavily breathed into her ear. Hopefully, that was it. "You can get better, Bakugou," she whispered to him. Cold compresses, too! She dashed to collect the final healing item at the front before she realized two large hands cup the underside of her damp breasts.

"Fuck, Ochako," muttered a low, stern voice in her ear. "Your tits are fucking perfect especially when they're wet." He massaged her breasts by pressing his thumb against her most sensitive spots and drew a sharp moan from her voice.

Uraraka staggered forward and braced herself on the counter out of the line of sight from the nosey cashier. He touched her like he knew her body for years. She panted, "Bakugou, you're going to get us in trouble. I don't want this reputation."

"Reputation? You're my wife. Everybody fucking knows that," he said against her neck and pressed his lips against her skin.

Wife? He was being delusional. This was the sickness talking. But just because he was delusional didn't mean she wanted him to stop. However, now was not the time! The shame of the heat in the moment spiked, and gently, pushed his curious hands up to her collarbone. What happened to her? This side surfaced, and she had no idea how to hide it. They weren't even dating, and here she was submitting to their desires.

Redness splotched her face like watercolors as she waddled up to the man behind the counter in a blue and white striped apron. She dug into her pocket for a few bills of cash. Just enough to get what she needed.

"You two seem way too young to get into shenanigans like this. I'm throwing in these for free," reprimanded the clerk as he threw in a small box of something.

Uraraka was too embarrassed to stop and see what they got for free, so she thanked the cashier with a quick bow and scurried away with the weightless Bakugou on her back. Once again, his unconscious hands slid to her breasts as he gave them a quick squeeze. She nearly lost her balance before regaining her composure and running through the rain back to the hotel.

As Bakugou still remained weightless and suspended in the air of the hotel room, Uraraka closed her eyes as she stripped his soaking black shirt from him. Hesitantly, she began to unbutton his jeans, but that would be too much, wouldn't it? No, if he stayed in his dripping wet clothes, then he'd probably get sicker.

With newfound determination, she unzipped his pants and pulled them towards his feet until they dropped to the ground.

"All Might B-boxers!" Uraraka chuckled as she caught sight of the red, white, yellow and blue patterned underwear. What a dork. "You're so adorable, Bakugou."

She was falling for him, and as her heart pounded, she knew the floating sensation that captured her.

Clearing off the bed of the sex toys she had discovered, she prepared the bed for the suspended Bakugou and changed into her pajamas. She used a nearby deep indigo blanket to toss around Bakugou's back and gently pull him down to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

His sleeping face had become one of the most pleasing views for her to witness. She could not stifle her small smile as she brought him closer and closer to her. Even his wild hair seemed calmed and subdued from the water that weighed it down. Finally having him in her hold calmed her as she fell back onto the bed and embraced him beneath the blanket.

Yearning to feel his weight press down against her, she released him from her anti-gravity spell and pleasantly sighed beneath his weight. The sensation brought reality to the moment, yet at the same time, she sank deeper into her succulent fantasy of being with him.

Just then, his hands slammed against the mattress on the sides of her head as she bounced beneath the pressure. Dazed stupor in his bloodshot eyes failed to startle her before he growled soft enough to be a whisper but rough enough for her to hear, "I love you, Ochako."

Fuck.

She wanted him to mean it more than anything he had ever said before. Her heart floated before shattering down to reality, and back to his earlier false confession. Even though his face looked clear and coherent, his voice soft and deliberate, and the back of his hand stroked down the side of her face, she knew this couldn't be true. "You're sick," noted Uraraka as tears fell back through her bangs and to her ears.

But, maybe, you love him, too.

And, just as she predicted, his elbows buckled, his eyes closed, and he collapsed down to her before their lips met. She wept once more. Why did she allow herself to fall for him?

Although his consciousness had seemed to fade, he caressed the sides of her body. His chest heaved down into hers. He kissed her adamantly and deliberately and like he loved her.

Until, slowly, his determination waned, his hands came to a rolling stop, and he stopped just like she feared he would.

"I want to be with you, Bakugou," she whispered because she knew he couldn't hear her. "I think I might," Uraraka began between her sobs. She knew he was using her and playing her like a moaning saxophone, but just like she couldn't stop her heart from beating, she couldn't stop herself from falling for him.

She didn't have time to sulk. His fever must have still been high. She needed to help him with the medicine and the snacks they bought. They had school in the morning.

"Why do you have to walk so fucking slowly? Hurry up!" shouted Bakugou as they neared the busy train station the next Monday morning. After a miraculous autumn breeze blew through, he watched as she covered up her butt and stuck her tongue out at him. "For fucks sake, you really think I'm checking you out when we have an hour to get across town, get dressed, and get back to school?"

Uraraka sighed and haggardly hunched forward. She just didn't want her panties to show to the world. Wiping her dark eyes, she yawned. All night, she attempted to nurse him back to normal. Cold compresses, chicken ramen, and cold medicine were usually enough for her to recover. She had successfully nursed him back to health, too. (Somehow, a few foil packets of condoms ended up among the purchases, but she had successfully wiped their existence from her memory.)

Apparently.

She would never tell Bakugou, and Uraraka hoped that he'd never remember their night together. Fortunately, she managed to wake up before him, so he didn't have to endure the shock of waking up next to her. When she remembered waking up next to him, her blush intensified. Why did her body have to react in this way? They'd never get together. Never ever.

Once they stepped onto the crowded train, Uraraka jumped as Bakugou wrapped his arm around her from behind. "Don't go wandering off anywhere, alright?" He commanded as he made damn sure that if anyone could see her round ass, it'd be him and only him. Could she hear his heart pound when they stood this closely? If Kotone said it meant something, then maybe Uraraka would, too. He frowned, for he couldn't see her face as he peered down at her auburn hair. At least, he felt he could guard her from such a standpoint.

If he could see her face, he'd know just how much she enjoyed the sudden contact. Although they both knew that she could protect herself, his intentions to guard her made her melt over and over again. Maybe he had warmed up to her. Either that or he had become more possessive over her.

She beamed up at him and felt his arm tense. "You're such a hero, Bakugou," she teased before sticking out her tongue again.

Bakugou's heart skipped a beat. She was so damn cute. He had to make her his before his heart exploded. Wiping his free hand on his pants, he figured that she hadn't gotten over Midoriya.

The storm had clear and the sun shined brightly in the clear morning sky.

Uraraka wanted to confirm that he felt better, if he remembered groping her at the convenience store, and if he actually loved her.

Bakugou wanted to ask if she was hungry, why her face got red whenever their eyes met, and if he could kiss her before they reached the campus.

Instead, they stayed silent within the lulls of their frivolous arguing as they tried to avoid the heart of what mattered to them on that crowded, morning train ride. Uraraka responded to the concerned texts of Kotone. Soon enough, the train reached their destination, and they disembarked.

Unfortunately, they walked the rest of the way to the dormitory together with their arms occasionally brushing against each other. Uraraka kept her head down until she reached the dorm as she stroked her upper arm.

She definitely had a crush. In fact, her crush had been so strong that she didn't even want to return to school! Quickly, she got dressed in her blazer school uniform and set out to school.

What a busy morning. Pacing down the hallway, she thought over the assignments that were due that day. She thought about the friends that she forgot to meet up with before school. Instead, she thought about what Bakugou would say to her. Her rage built instead of any other emotion. He was such an asshole for that phony confession.

However, she wanted to see him.

From down the hall, she could already hear commotion. There's no way he told everyone about their night together at the love hotel, right? Uraraka's feet quickened. She covered her chest and stepped into the loud and bright classroom as she stared at her feet like some submissive, shrinking violet.

Her heart jumped.

Standing on a desk, Bakugou declared with a cocky grin as he pointed down to a group of classmate, "Anybody got a problem with that? I know you extras can't mind your own damn business."

Uraraka looked around the group of kids.

Shrugging, Sero grinned, "Yeah, we knew that already."

"You're really obvious with that sort of thing," sighed Kaminari.

Wide-eyed and awestruck by Bakugou's boast, Kirishima cheered and clapped.

Jirou noted, "At least you're saying stuff like that and not telling her to marry you."

"Oh, no, she's here!" exclaimed Mina.

Then she saw it - on the board, written in thick and large characters, "I FUCKING LOVE URARAKA OCHAKO!" Scurrying to erase the mad confession, Uraraka knew exactly who wrote him. Blood rushed to her face until she could hardly breath. She grabbed a dry eraser and pressed it against the board as her breathing trembled.

"What the fuck are you doing?" exclaimed Bakugou as he grabbed her by the waist from behind. "I write something like that, and you erase it? I'm gonna kill you for that."

"That's not the way to a girl's heart!" chided someone from behind.

"We're just friends. Bakugou," she whined in between her shallow breath and heavy heartbeats. Their overtly familiar contact, his repeated confession, the curious eyes of her classmates made her head spin. What was going on? And why the hell did she want to giggle?

"You hear that, Deku?!" announced Bakugou as he stopped pulling her to shake a fist. "You can fiddle your thumbs all you want, but in the end, I'm gonna be the one." With that, he picked her up and cradled her in his arms before jumping onto a desk with his back facing the crowd.

"Booooo!"

"That's not romantic!"

"You're embarrassing her!"

The voices of their classmates faded upon the enamored pair's ears. Although they once cared about the reactions of their peers, as Bakugou held Uraraka, they began to only care about the thoughts of each other. They were conscious of the body heat radiating from every inch of their skin. Blood loudly pulsed through their veins, and as they stood still, they could hear it from each other. Sweaty palms, soft skin, short breaths - they sensed it all as the taste of each other's kiss still lingered from the night before. Was this love?

Bakugou had no doubt while Uraraka wanted to doubt it more than she did, yet there they were - head over hills for each other.

Nervously, she giggled, "Bakugou, put me down. You're being ridiculous. Don't say things you don't mean."

"I mean it this time!" he yelled as a vein throbbed at his temple. "Listen, I don't care if you believe me. I'm gonna do whatever the fuck you need me to do so that I don't have to deal with you denial shit."

Uraraka grimaced, "Denial? You told me that you liked me twice already. How the hell-" she stopped herself. "How the heck are you supposed to think I'll believe you?"

Would it be bad to say that the display of affection made her heart feel a little lighter? Would it be wrong to say that she'll wait and see?

This time in the silence between them, she noticed something different about him. The serenity in his eyes looked like he had made peace with something within and without him. His typical grimace twitched into a smile. If they were alone, she probably would have kissed him as an innate reaction to the pleasant expression on his handsome features. His blonde hair caught the sunlight behind him, and for a moment, she considered acknowledging the significance in this confession. She sighed, "Are you going to put me down, Bakugou?"

His smile continued to grow and brighten. "Why are you staring at me so much? My face is doing something weird, isn't it?" Bakugou asked this as he tried to straighten his face, but for as long as he looked at her cherubic, round face, he knew that he'd never be able to rid of his stupid look.

People would talk and shout and she wouldn't hear a word as long as he cradled her. "Bakugou," she groaned, for she knew this was just the beginning of the storm of Bakugou Katsuki.

A/N: Endings aren't my Forte, but I know when to end a story. I think this is it for this story.

At least, this is the end of the first act of the story. Either I can make a new sequel that's less angsty and maybe more steamy. Or. This story can go on hiatus, and I'll come back when in ready.

Listen, I've loved your support with writing this, and I've loved getting to know you all. I hope I was able to give you entertainment and comfort on tough nights and long nights. I hope you laughed or maybe felt some deep feelings while reading this. I want to write because I want to teach people, enlighten people, and give people something to look forward to in this sometimes dreary world. I know this is cheesy, but I just want you all to know how thankful I am for all of your support.

Hope to see you around.