Work Text:
Midoriya had to be restrained.
Yes—Midoriya, of all people, had to be restrained after Bakugou was muzzled for the Sports Festival. Ochaco thinks that they didn't have to muzzle the guy to get him to sit still, but she sort of gets where they were coming from. Bakugou looked like he was seconds away from clawing someone's face off after Todoroki didn't fight him the way he fought Midoriya.
She sits idly in class, Midoriya's seat empty, and Bakugou is quietly seething. Ochaco can smell him. Everyone can, actually, but that was beside the point. His anger smells sharp—like burnt, smoking sugar. Usually, she can ignore scents. No, scratch that, she can barely pick up on most peoples' scents, which is something she is embarrassed to admit. That's why she's fighting off the urge to shift in her seat right now.
Ochaco can smell Bakugou. It's a scent that's simply that strong, unobscured by scent blockers and suppressants like most of the people in their class.
It's pretty hard to ignore when she's used to his normal scent of creme brulee, firewood and caramel. That's pretty hard to acknowledge for someone who is so used to not being able to smell everyone—she is used to an omega's sweet scent. The first one she's been able to smell in a long, long time, despite her typically sharp senses.
After Ochaco had fought him, it was pretty difficult not to pick up on it. There's still some bruising on the both of them. A reminder that he doesn't hold back, so if she even thinks to bring up the fact he should probably wear scent blockers, she would likely get her face scratched off like the last alpha who thought it was a good idea to try and corner him in the hall.
Maybe Midoriya didn't really overreact.
"I'm embarrassed," the green haired alpha whines, hands covering his face as he sits on the steps of the school. "Kacchan growls at me every time he sees me now! And people whisper. They whisper, Uraraka-chan."
The way he so casually calls Bakugou by that nickname makes her look off to the side, and she can't help the way she quietly snickers. Midoriya doesn't react, though, lost in his own world as he breaks off into muttering and mumbling—a habit that becomes more and more obvious as the year goes on.
"I personally don't think it was that bad. You've known each other for a while, like you said."
"I growled in front of all those people. All Might had to come and get me. There's no way I'm getting an internship after that."
A reasonable concern, and Ochaco nods in response before sitting down next to him. The two sit in silence for a few moments—Midoriya with his head settled on his knees as Ochaco simply stares at the clouds. It's not like she can blame him, if the two were childhood friends like the alpha had explained before. The description is a little vague, though. Childhood friends, but Bakugou constantly growls and outright insults Midoriya.
Probably because all Midoriya does is smile at him like the omega hung the moon itself, but she digresses. Because it's not like she doesn't get it when Bakugou smells like that—something she is, again, ashamed to admit. Being an alpha seems to be reason enough for the omega to want to fight.
And, well, they did fight. Something she couldn't forget because she can understand why the other alphas in the halls stop and stare, why some have to walk the other direction when he makes an appearance; because people can smell him before they see him. Also, he's making the other omegas in the class (which, there aren't a lot,) act out. Not her own words, but Aizawa's words.
"Well . . . People will forget about it. Eventually," Ochaco shrugs, a weak attempt to soothe the other.
"Kacchan won't forget."
This time, Ochaco laughs, and Midoriya laughs back.
Bakugou is staring at her.
She knows, because now Midoriya is staring at her, and she can feel the hairs at the back of her neck stand because it's too much attention all at once. Not even all the eyes on them at the Sports Festival made her feel like this, and it's making her sweaty in the middle of class on the one day she forgot to put scent blockers on. Ochaco is going to feel guilty the second someone brings up her scent, she just knows it—
" . . . I think Kacchan just doesn't want to talk to you directly."
Midoriya's words snap her out of her own thoughts, blinking at she looks towards him before clearing her throat and nodding. Not in agreement, no—because Bakugou's stare feels more like a threat than anything. He isn't like the other omegas in the class, though she supposes they're like him after he's been slowly convincing them to start outright provoking the alphas in their class.
Last time, Iida actually had to get sent home because of Kaminari, so there was that.
She nods because her throat feels dry, and Bakugou's scent seems to be all that there is in the room. Everyone else's scents are faint at best, if Ochaco is capable of picking them up at all (and she usually isn't). So now, she's stuck with fangs that itch inside of her mouth, feeling embarrassed that she's this affected by another's scent, all while in class. This is her first year at UA, and she has three more years to go with someone walking around as if the place is his.
And by now, it probably is? Aizawa's stopped trying to reason with him already.
Midoriya seems to pick up on her nervousness, because he sets down his water bottle and Ochaco can't help but chug down half of it gratefully. How is he used to Bakugou smelling like that, constantly? All the way from childhood until now, too. He's got a better resolution than most of the older students, and she can't help but praise him for it, really.
When she sets down the water, she can still feel Bakugou's eyes burning into the back of her neck.
"Did I do something?" She whispers, unwilling to turn around and risk locking eyes with him.
"I don't think so. Kacchan just does that, sometimes," he says casually, sitting down in his seat and leaving the water bottle on her desk like some sort of peace offering.
He just does that sometimes. Yeah, she doesn't exactly doubt that, considering the way he says it like he's dealt with it before. Probably has—but in Ochaco's own defense, she hasn't dealt with Bakugou. He's in a league of his own when it comes to omegas, which is really saying something. It leaves her shifting in her seat, and the bell rings when Ashido and Kaminari come rushing in.
She can make it through the day. She can make it through the day.
No—she can make it through the year. Big goals, big aspirations. She's dealt with more than just scents before.
It doesn't matter that Bakugou doesn't stop staring throughout the class, or that Ochaco rushes to grab her things to head to second period. What matters is that she can ignore it, can hold onto whatever sanity she has left to make it home and try to forget about how weird this all is.
Yeah . . . Yeah, she can do this.
Ochaco cannot do this.
A month after the Sports Festival, they have to move into dorms. Iida has apologized a million times already, but that's not what matters to her at the moment, though she is grateful that the alpha seems remorseful. He should be remorseful for putting her through this.
Bakugou has not stopped staring.
So, moving into dorms with him just a month after the Sports Festival means that she'll have to put up with it around the clock. Means she'll have to deal with his scent, his staring, his attitude, all dangling in front of her like a taunt. Midoriya says it's nothing to worry about, but he said that a month ago, and it hasn't stopped. Maybe he's learned to ignore Bakugou, or just deal with it, but from the amount of pencils he's broken . . . She really doubts it.
By the time everyone's finished moving in, she's sitting in the common area and listening to Mineta getting chewed out, Ashido and Kaminari laughing at something, and Iida attempting to direct everyone to behave. No one listens—especially not Bakugou.
"For fuck's sake, Four Eyes, can you keep it down?"
"Bakugou, that is not appropriate language for the school dorms! Please refrain—"
"You're the reason we're in the dorms, dipshit! I sure as hell didn't wanna be here, but I'm dealing with it. Now shut the hell up before I—"
"Please keep it down," Ochaco finally pipes up, setting her pencil down and sighing. She can't believe she's in this situation.
"I'm trying to write down a grocery list. So if you want anything, please tell, but please be quiet about it. I already have to deal with Mineta."
"Hey!"
She ignores him, listening to Ashido giggle and say something she isn't bothered to pick up on, before going back down to writing out what people want. At least, she tries to. She can feel Bakugou staring again—probably annoyed at being interrupted, or just by her presence. He's always butting heads with Iida, or any other alpha that's within his vicinity, and that includes her. Unfortunately, it's getting really, really hard to deal with his staring combined with his scent.
Just at that thought, it gets stronger.
"Grocery list, hah?"
Oh. That scent of creme brulee and sea salt caramel just seems to be at an all time high, sweeter than it had been prior. Almost like he's doing it on purpose—and, wow, Ochaco definitely doesn't want to think about that. It makes her canines itch, and her mouth waters slightly before she swallows it down and refrains from doing something stupid. Is this really what Midoriya has to put up with? She doesn't get how he does it, but by what she's seen, he's just barely getting by.
"Ah, yeah. Is, is there something you want?"
"Nah," he brushes off, leaning against the back of the couch to peer over her shoulder. He's too close for comfort. "I can get my own shit."
Bakugou walks away after that, and Ochaco takes a deep inhale before nearly choking on her spit—having to clear her throat to cover it up so she doesn't give herself away. She didn't even realize she hadn't been breathing when he thought it was a good idea to start breathing down her neck like a psycho.
Of course, they move into the dorms when he's going into heat.
Ochaco has a routine.
Wake up at four, make herself a strawberry protein smoothie before going to train for thirty minutes, shower, and then get ready for class. It makes it easier that she lives on campus now, giving her more time to train and get ready for her day now that she doesn't need to figure out travel plans and keep extra money for the subway.
The dorms are comfortable enough—her room is bigger, and admittedly, it's nice being around her friends. It gives her room to be more comfortable around them, getting used to them. She can't say that it's been all rainbows and sunshine, but when has anything been that way since the school year started?
This morning, when she wakes up and opens her door, there's a black hoodie with a skull on it sitting on the floor that she accidentally steps on before stumbling back. It's just . . . Sitting there, left there for who knows how long just for her to find. When she picks up with, the crisp and sweet scent of caramel, firewood and slick hits her and she drops it immediately.
Ashido's room is all the way down the hall, but Shouji's room is right across from hers and she's certain he heard the shocked squeak she let out the second that scent hit her nose.
Ochaco stands there for a few moments, processing the fact that Bakugou left his heat slicked hoodie right in the fucking hall for her to find—almost like a taunt. Or, maybe, something else that she does not want to think about.
. . . Quietly, she picks it up, dangling it in front of herself for what feels like forever before closing her door and locking it.
Her routine can wait for just another hour.
