Work Text:
She can’t remember why she’s this angry, but maybe it had to do with the buildup of emotions and stress throughout the week? Or maybe it was the failing grade she received on her paper, or maybe even the fact that she felt she wasn’t doing well enough in her hero courses? Regardless, Ochako finds herself sneaking out of her dorm room and tiptoeing down the hall and rushing through the stairwell.
She curses herself for not bringing a jacket with her, but by the time she arrives at her location, she feels warmth bubble in her chest. The smell isn’t always pleasant, but she loves coming to the gym to work her muscles until she feels like collapsing; it’s something she’s constantly being scolded for by her friends, but she’s not one to give up. Especially now in the midst of her anger, she finds what she’s looking for.
“Great,” she says to herself as she wraps her hands and knuckles in athletic tape. Even after interning under Gunhead, she still works in her off time in order to better her counter attacks. It makes her feel good about herself when she excels under his watchful eye, even when he cheers for her and pats her on the shoulder — it drives her to work harder.
After Uraraka tightens the laces on her shoes, she stands and finds the punching bag. Her hand comes to rest on the fabric; it’s cool yet exciting and as she stretches before she begins, a cool breeze blows through the room. Ochako turns to see if someone entered, but she’s all alone. Without another second wasted, she grabs her earbuds from the pocket of her shorts and starts up some music.
It’s loud and blaring in her ears, motivating her body to get to moving and by the time she feels sweat coating her forehead, she finds the punching bag once more. The brunette readies herself in front of it, crouching in a defensive stance before she begins to throw punches.
Her knuckles make contact with the bag and pain has never felt so good. She stretches one arm forward at a time while keeping the other fist up and close to her face; it’s a defensive tactic she’s learned while interning and it’s something she’s come to use when it comes to close combat training with her classmates.
Ochako throws each punch to the beat of her music, sometimes speeding things up and her heart rate increases. She pours her anger into her workout, letting it fuel her as she continues to throw her fists in the bag before her and before she knows it, she’s panting as sweat runs down her face. The brunette remembers to keep her core tight — remember to keep your posture, Gunhead’s voice rings out in her mind and she throws another punch.
She’s in the zone now as her music continues to blare in her ears and as she begins to throw another punch, she feels something tap her shoulder. Uraraka can hardly contain herself before she’s turning, her right fist swinging and moving with momentum as she makes contact with whatever touched her.
“What the fuck, pink cheeks!”
“Bakugou!” She shrieks before pulling her headphones from her ears. She tosses her phone and headphones to the side and covers her mouth with her hands. “What are you doing here?!”
“Better question,” he counters with a glare. “What are you doing here?”
Ochako meets his gaze, straightens her shoulders and finds that he’s still glaring at her. She can see the red mark left on his arm, her knuckles embedded into his skin and guilt flutters in her chest. As she opens her mouth to answer him, no words fall out and she’s left looking at the smirk that spreads across his face.
“Stupid girl,” he mutters and it only fuels Ochako’s anger.
“Stupid girl?!” She retorts and that’s when she takes a step closer towards him. “Maybe you should rethink tapping on someone’s shoulder when they’re clearly angry and throwing punches, eh?”
Bakugou rolls his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest. He stares at her, broad shoulders towering her small stature but Ochako doesn’t back down. Her eyes continues to glow with a fire burning inside of them and that’s when she feels him grab at her wrist.
“Your form wasn’t even good, this is how you do it,” he says before pulling her back to the punching bag.
Ochako watches as he rolls his head, stretching his neck out while his shoulders move in circles. Her ears are met with the sounds of his knuckles meeting the bag now and he’s hitting hard and throwing punches faster than she realizes. Once he’s done, she hears him chuckle while his scarlet eyes glance back at her.
It’s the middle of the night and the two of them are in the gym without authorization. Aizawa would surely reprimand them with some sort of awful punishment if he were to find out, but for now, it’s just the two of them and she feels her mood lighten in Bakugou’s presence. Uraraka’s shoulders relax and a smile pulls at her lips at his invite.
“That’s how it’s done, Angel face.”
