MY SAFE SPACE

MY SAFE SPACE

astumu miya x fem!reader

angst + comfort

just a lil wip :p

~

the bright gym lights beat down heat on the backs of the team. shoes squeaked and there was a prominent smell of sweat and rubber surrounding the bleachers.

for a moment time had stopped, and his heart did too. it was all too late he feared. nothing more could have been done, but there was still a feeling of persistence in his bones, lying in wait to be awakened and to shake violently with the small amount of fight left in him.

it all moved in slow motion, his teammate diving to keep the ball alive, the mere centimeters he missed, the ball hitting the ground. the lights seemed to increasingly get brighter, and it seemed like his feet weighed the weight of the world.

he froze and the world went quiet.

so quiet that he hadn’t heard the sound of the whistle, or at least his brain hadn’t processed it. he could hear his rapid heart beating, and his opponents moving with glee and vigor.

and then it hit. his heart sunk, and it sunk so hard he thought there was a black hole in its place.

that was it. his last high school volleyball game.

he did not hear a word said in the meeting in the locker room except to bring the jerseys to practice tomorrow morning. to leave the last 4 years of his life in a storage room for some other player to wear for next year.

he was quiet on the ride home, too quiet his twin thought. but it was to be expected when all your hard work went down the drain.

his feet were heavy as he climbed up the stairs, his shoulders slumped and head down. he wanted nothing more then to just lie down and never get up again and to wither away.

but more than anything, he wanted to wash away the layer of skin he played in today, all the grime and sorrow. the hot water pelted his back, steam clouding his vision. he felt that maybe the boiling hot water could melt away the tension of the past few hours.

solemnly he walked to his room, the cold air on his bare chest felt like a breath of fresh air. he sat on the edge of his bed and just stayed there for what felt like ages.

he didn’t hear his door open, nor did he hear your footsteps making their way towards him. he only processed that you were there when you stood right in front of him between his legs.

he blinked a couple times, and that’s when the tears started pouring.

he threw his arms around your legs and buried his head in your abdomen, sobbing and clenching your tank top in his hands for dear life.

and you stood there, arms around his head, fingers sweeping through his hair and shushing his muffled cries. you rubbed his back to help soothe the heart break he felt. he cried until all you could hear were quiet sniffles and his breathing was not as rapid as before.

you gently unwrapped his arms from around your waist and slid into his bed, motioning for him to follow you and he complied.

he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his chest in the valley of your breast, entangling your legs together.

you still felt tears fall on your chest, but not as frequently. laying multiple kisses on his head, you continuing to rub soothing circles on his back. you waited until his breathing was even and his shoulders stopped shuddering to cheer him up.

now was definitely not the right time, but you decided to take a shot in the dark.

you tilt his head up, your soft and tender hands caressing his jaw and cheekbones that were puffy. you both stared into each others eyes for a moment, trying to read each others emotions.

so you decided to make a move and leaned in closer until your lips met his in a soft and tender kiss. he reciprocated the kiss almost (if not) immediately and his grip on your waist tightened.

he tasted like salt and peaches, and odd but comforting combo.

it was electrifying and incredibly sweet, and a little bit of the ache in his heart had gone away.

you both pulled apart and gazed into each others eyes, wiping his cheeks and sending a small smile his way.

a few more pecks and kisses and he was out like a light, drooling all over your chest and a killer grip on the back of your shirt.

content in your warm embrace that could mend his soul.

Prince!Bakugo x Maid!reader

Summary:The barbaric and infamous prince has returned victorious from war, and as the only maid he ever lets get near him, you’re the one who gets to tend to him now that he’s back home.

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood, nudity, angst to comfort

Ik all Bakugo fans are having a hard time out there rn, so heres some good comfort

He’s come back from once again another glorious win, putting both pride and more blood on the royal families history as the whole empire celebrates, after one long year of being away at war on the border of the neighbouring kingdom, finally the finishing act of his violent spectacle has come to a close. In celebration of such, the acting Queen declared a banquet to be held in the royal palace the very same night of his arrival, accessible to the entire upper and middle class, a party full of fancy dresses that took seamstress’s months to sew together, full of nobles wishing to gain connections, music of all sorts and food you couldn’t even imagine to be so delicious until it melts in your mouth.

A banquet like this was a huge opportunity, it wasn’t often the middle class got to freely mingle with the upper class, and it wasn’t often you were given the chance to get off work to go to a social gathering, as a palace maid it was required for you to stay in the palace at all times until your seasonly holiday, so of course when a courtier visited the servant quarters to announce how all palace workers have the opportunity to celebrate the occasion, it was reasonable how they all squealed in excitement; hugging each other, pulling out their fancy jewellery stuck at the very bottom of their suitcases and dressers, deciding what dress would be the most appropriate for such an event- but not you.

You didn’t have the liberty to go to such an event, not after being dubbed “the lion keeper”. After six long years of working in the palace, the sole and only maid his highness would ever let tend to him or wait on him, was you. Which is why you knew you couldn’t go to the banquet, not yet; you were the only person he would let check over his wounds and scars from war.

And so there you were, rather than wearing a gorgeous soft luxurious dress, with pearls and crystals adorning your ears and collar, instead you were wearing your tattered uniform from every other day, with a warm bucket of water sitting by your feet, washcloth in hand, waiting for the lion to enter his den. Between your hands and the washcloth your hands felt sweaty, and your feet couldn’t help but shuffle around a bit in their place, feeling restless. You felt nervous. After a long year you’re going to go back into your routine of tending to Bakugo once more, somehow you felt excited to see him again.

As if thinking of him was enough to spawn him, the front door to his chambers came launching open, the wide doors lined with gold shone as he stepped through them, the two guards that had escorted him made a courteous bow before politely closing the doors behind him as he walked in. You didn’t entirely know how to react to his return, the barrier of professionalism as his maid held you back from tearing up and giving him a hug, no matter how much you felt like a friend to him, you were still a maid. So there you stood in your place, welcoming him to his chamber with a genuine smile, ready to return to your routine of diligently serving him.

“You kept the place clean.”

“Of course your highness”

It was an absent remark he made, while fidgeting with the hilt of his sword sitting on his belt, you weren’t expecting some sort of compassion from him as an old friend to announce his return, but somehow having him notice your efforts to keep his chambers clean and in the exact order he left it to be in made you feel accomplished, warm. That warm feeling of happiness inside you was enough to tell you that you really weren’t dreaming, he’s returned.

“Drop the highness bullshit, you know I hate it- why did you keep my room clean? Everyone was saying I was as good as dead when I left the palace and you know it”

He feels a little agitated to hear you address him so formally, and the tension already in the air causes him to lash out a little, his prickly attitude quickly resurfacing. But no matter, by now you’re already used to it and it doesn’t phase you at all, even after a year.

“Well, Bakugo, I chose not to listen to them because I knew you’d come back.”

You bow your head as you speak, correcting yourself to use his name, it’s been so long since you called him bakugo. While smiling respectfully you kept up your stubborn attitude, always rooting for his highness. Bakugo couldn’t help but feel a little relieved to see that after a year you still haven’t changed at all, knowing this he felt more comfortable, and just as he thought, his name still rolled off your tongue like honey, if he were given the opportunity to hear it come from you forever more he truly believed he would take it.

The thought of you believing in him made him feel warm. That soft vulnerable feeling in his chest was one only you could coax him into feeling, your compliments and words were the only things able to make him feel this way, only you. In that warmth Bakugo fell silent, the roaring lion with his bloody paws and tattered fur felt docile under the care of the kind rabbit. In the silence, you clenched the washcloth between your hands, remembering what you were here to originally do.

“If we wait here any longer, your bath will no longer be how you like it Bakugo”

Bakugo glances at the bathroom door, before looking back at you amidst the silence, somehow feeling a little embarrassed now at the thought of undressing with you near after a year of being apart. Although he would never let it show on his face.

“I will give you some time to undress, please call me in when you’re ready”

“Yeah yeah same ol’ shit no need to tell me”

You stand beside the bathroom door in his bedroom and watch him walk past you, slouching as he always does, before shutting the door. Once he was completely out of your sight, your mind can’t help but wonder a little, maybe it was because he’s spent a year away, but he somehow seems a little more like a man now that he’s come back, his face seemed more defined with a sharper gaze, his body more muscular yet still lean, he clearly became more attractive. Your heart skipped more than a few beats when thinking about how much he’s changed, not that you didn’t love him all the same just as he was before.

Meanwhile, Bakugo slowly undid the buttons on his shirt, ripping open his collar and placing the jewelled cuff-links in his sleeve in a basket at last, he felt like he was suffocating in his royal uniform. Usually he would always leave the first button open, it felt much cooler to him rather than being suffocatingly hot. But he wanted to make an effort. He had heard women prefer a man who looks well kept and put together, but thinking about it now, he felt stupid. Did he really put himself through that to impress you? Somehow he felt like he needed to prove himself to you, prove that he’s grown while away. Since when did he start thinking of you like that? Someone to impress.

He pushes back his thoughts about you, like he has with all his other thoughts about you, the ones about how soft your hair seemed when it brushed against him, how your smile was something he sought out ever since it first made his heart jump, how loved you made him feel. Loved. It was a concept he knew close to nothing about, but he was sure what you made him feel is what it was, if the affection he felt for you undeniably wasn’t love, then he was sure that love in itself had to be a lie. He wasn’t sure when you stopped being “the least annoying maid” to him, and started being the woman he keeps close in his heart, perhaps it happened in-between all the times you endlessly defended his reputation, or in all the times you were there for him, comforting him and taking care of him, however when it really happened didn’t all that matter anymore, because it was something irreversible.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he looked at himself in the mirror, covered in bandages to avoid fresh wounds from reopening, the last few weeks of war were brutal, traumatic even, he blinked once and a slash on his chest appeared. Looking at himself now, he realises that trying to seem tidy and clean had no point, not when his body was littered with gruesome wounds and scars already forming everywhere. You had to be disgusted by him. And if you weren’t already, then he was sure when you were cleaning his wounds you’d be repulsed by him by the end of it. He shouldn’t care what you think, he knows he shouldn’t, at the end of the day he’s an heir to the royal throne while you’re just a woman from the middle class who landed a lucky job in being a palace maid. But regardless, he regretfully cared.

Dipping a hand into the bath water, he felt its mild bittersweet warmth as he finally noticed the soothing scent of the herbs you used. His favourite. You knew his likes and dislikes far too well, you lured him to be more comfortable with you than with anyone else, the happiest with you, and he was afraid it would all end when you see his wounds. Sitting at the edge of the bath, his heart raced, calling out to you.

“You may enter now”

Funnily enough, you jumped hearing his voice, as if the lion were not tame in your presence, you walked carefully while entering the bathroom, coming face to face with bakugo, leaning on the edge of the bathtub, a large bandage hugging his chest, while smaller cuts and scars remained unattended to in other areas, suddenly the light feeling in your chest from seeing him again was completely crushed by a depressing empathy at his pain, immediately you approached him, muscle memory already knowing exactly what to do, dropping the soft cotton cloth in a basin of cold water for later, your hands carefully approached his bandages, fingers sliding on his chest with such a light touch, if one more layer of bandage were to be on his chest he wouldn’t have even felt you.

While you gently pulled at his bandages, Bakugo shrunk in his spot, bracing himself for the look of disgust, maybe spite, he’s aware of how all the palace maids were away at the banquet by now, while you were stuck here tending to his vile wounds, it was his fault you were here, perhaps if he weren’t so selfish, you would be at the banquet sipping at all the free fine champagne, mingling with other young ladies your age, instead you were stuck in the pitiful lions cage.

But there was no disgust, nor was there a grimace, or groan, or a twist in your features, rather when you removed the bandage, you smiled, happy to see that his wound was not as terrible as the bandage seemed to have made it look, the wound was already starting to heal and stitches wouldn’t be necessary at all. Thank God. Relief for different reasons spread across both your features. The scowl Bakugo constantly wore to hide any other emotion has softened, as you lifted the cotton cloth and dabbed it at his wounds, cleaning up the dried blood the bandages couldn’t soak up. Bakugo hissed when you pressed a little too hard and you instantly recoiled back; looking up at his face to see if you had hurt him badly.

“Did I hurt you?”

You did. In fact his wound stung a little more than before, but he didn’t shout at you, he wore the same softened expression, he couldn’t help it, that look of concern you wore for him and only him made him feel terribly appreciated, because while other nobles always gave him remarks of “adoration” or “appreciation”, yours were always the most genuine.

“You didn’t.”

His voice is hoarse from trying to keep it low, yet still equally soft, tender and loving. It makes your face feel warm as you leave yourself with no other choice but looking back down at his chest to clean up the last of the blood. Dabbing more gently, trying hard to not hurt him again. You knew he lied about being hurt, no man hisses like that if he weren’t hurt, but you didn’t want to press on the matter any further, the lines under his eyes showed how tired he was.

“I’m all done cleaning your wounds Bakugo, you can step into the bath and I’ll help wash your hair now”

Bakugo feels a wave of embarrassment flood on him, as do you, as he slowly removes the towel around his waist, handing it to you to fold, avoiding your eyes while stepping into the bath. After taking the towel from him, you quickly turned your back to him, folding the towel and placing it on the marble sink counter, pretending to be occupied for a minute until you heard the bath water settle with him in the tub.

A silence breaks out as you turn around, rinsing Bakugos hair as he’s already obediently lifted his chin upwards so the water won’t get in his eyes, before you lather soap in your hands and gently massage his scalp. For the first time in far too long, Bakugo closed his eyes without a lingering fear of death in his chest. He would never admit it, that being a royal was hard enough when dealing with so many assassination attempts and how war was far worse for him. Since coming back to the empire he was still yet to fully relax himself, until now. your dainty fingers diligently pressing onto his head with care, washing away all the grime and dirt on him. While the warm water soaked into his rough war-torn skin, untying all the rough knots between his overworked muscles, you couldn’t help but let out a sniffle. The choking feeling of loneliness when Bakugo was away for so long hits you all at once.

He’s back. He’s returned.

Bakugo cracks open an eye to look at you when hearing the small whimper come from you, only to see your wobbly smile as tears prick the corners of your eyes, you tried to pretend nothing was wrong as you continued to scrub at his scalp until he suddenly tilted his head up to get a good look at you. Realising that he’s noticed, you curse at his perceptiveness and turn your back to him, trying to wipe away at your tears. You must seem stupid. Crying in front of the crown prince- how humiliating, he probably wants you out of his chambers for being a nuisance, the thought of him looking at you cruelly like he did all the other maids made you feel worse.

“I’m sorry I-“

You apologise, making Bakugo more worried as he sits up, and for the first time since he’s returned home, he calls out to you by your name, reaching out for your arm and tugging on it to turn you around, his voice stern yet still laced with evident concern for you. When you turn around to face him he feels guilty for how high his heart leaps, your cheeks a rosy colour with tears shining under the candlelight of the chandelier of the bathroom, using one of your hands to try cover your eyes as if you weren’t so obviously crying. The thought of how beautiful you were even with tears in your eyes was unable to escape his mind as he called out to you by your name again.

“Did you miss me while I was gone?”

The question was abrupt; and once again he was being selfish, deep down in the pit of his heart, he wanted you to miss him, to care for him so deeply it brings you to tears, the greedy lion had never received affection so deep and genuine from anyone else, so when he did he began to crave it, crave it so deeply that he refused to be around anyone except you. Though it may sound poisonous, villainous maybe even treacherous, he really hoped your tears were for him, and only him, he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else or anything else making you cry that was out of his power, at the very least if it were him who made you cry, he would be able to make it better.

You look at Bakugo for a moment, surprised by his abrupt question, so many thoughts rushed though your head. I missed you, I missed you so much the air felt like it wanted to strangle me whenever I thought about how long you’ve been gone for, you’re everything to me my soul my life my reason of living. And yet, all you could manage was a choked sob, clogging your throat with a lump of emotions, your legs felt weak as you unintentionally kneeled, trying to cover your cry. The way you broke down when he asked was enough of an answer for him, cupping your face, leaning out of the bathtub now, water dripped onto the skirt of your uniform and the tiled floor as he pulled your face towards him, calling out your name once more.

“I’m here now, I’m here for you”

Your lip quivered at his words, because while in a formal setting he is your boss, when he held you like this, with a voice so uncharacteristically gentle you can barely recognise, and a touch so hesitant, trying so desperately to not cross a line, he truly seemed like he cared for you, like he loved you as much as you loved him.

You cried in the palms of his rough hands that were capable of holding the world in them, yet they still chose to hold onto you. With nothing to dry your tears, he tried to wipe them away with his thumbs, lulling you into calming down as he shushed you gently. He wanted to tell you he loved you, to tell you that in the past 6 years he’s loved you more than the average heart should be capable of, he loves you so much his heart aches for you, burns for you, he wants to tell you the only reason he put his life in danger at war was for you, to prove himself to the queen that he’s capable and strong enough as it is, that a political marriage is unnecessary if he comes home victorious all so he can be with you. But through all 6 years, he’s always been afraid, of what? He's afraid of change, rejection, of you not being able to reciprocate the sheer raw love and desire he has for you despite your enormous heart that was able to handle being the maid of the infamous barbaric prince.

Through soaked eyelashes, you look back up at Bakugo, you weren’t sure why, but the usual sandpaper fingertips of his felt so soft against your skin, perhaps it was the love that was woven into each of his touches that made them so soothing, or at least thats what you hoped. Your eyes glistened like crystal balls as you stared into his glorious scarlet reds, a colour you grew to love thanks to him.

“Did you miss me too Katsuki?”

You take a leap of faith, using his first name as you admit to missing him in his absence all at once, your heart beats louder than festival drums in your chest as you waited for an answer, however as his lips pursed together, seemingly thinking of what to say, you feel that thumping in your heart turn into the hammering of heart break, what was he so hesitant to say? You must have crossed a line. You couldn’t believe yourself for being so naiv-

“I love you.”

In all your life, in all his life, neither of you had heard those 3 words come out of his lips all together at once, but now that you have, you can admit that theres no sound more wondrous and beautiful than his confession, nothing will ever have a more special place in your heart than him and his words, than the reciprocation of your strong feelings. And the wobbly sweet smile on your face that quivered from just crying paired together with your blush was enough to tell him that you felt the same way too.

2 leaps of faith in one night, and a blossoming love at long last.

And thats the end! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! please consider dropping a like and especially a reblog with your thoughts :)) your nice comments give me loads of encouragement to keep writing!

KEEP YER HEART AFLAME

drabble drabble drabble

i love cowboy bakugo sm omg prepare to be sick of me.

just fluff, the soft and tender sweetness we all want from a man.

~

cicadas chirped and trees swayed in the wind as you laid on your bed, your balcony doors open letting in a warm gentle breeze. you laid clad in a white silk nightgown that had delicate lace on the neckline and hem of the dress. in your hand was a book, Pride and Prejudice, the light from your bedside lamp illuminating the room just enough for you to see the words on the paper. truth be told you had grown quite tired in the past 30 minutes, but you were determined to stay up. to see the man of your dreams, the man who rocked your world, your husband.

deciding it was about the time your husband got home, you decided to get ready for bed. washing and freshening up in your bathroom was always one of your favorite things to do.

during your nightly routine you hear the front door open from downstairs and close, heavy steps on wood flooring echoing through the house. you finished up by brushing your hair and make your way out from the en-suite bathroom to greet the handsome fellow you get to call yours.

“hey handsome” you purr, voice soft as you throw your arms loosely around his neck. his arms tighten around your waist and he looks at you, frowning.

“thought i told ‘ya not ta wait up on me” the sleepiness evident in his voice.

you give him that small little smile you know will make him cave in as you trace his biceps, slow and gentle. you meet his eyes, reaching up to tenderly caress his cheek, looking at him like he hung the moon and the stars with those two big hands of his.

“well what kinda wife would i be if i didn’t make sure my husband came back t’me safely?” you continue to hold his gaze, soft and small hand still on his cheek as silence falls between the both of you.

it’s a comfortable silence, the kind were you enjoy each other’s presence, the kind you have when you drink coffee together in the morning, the kind when you’re taking a bubble bath and reading while he shaves his face by the sink, the kind when you’re both laid up in each other’s arms and watching the trees gently sway in the summer breeze.

he’s still pouting, but his eyes soften just the slightest. he turns his head to your hand and kisses your palm, holding your gaze.

you melt under his stare.

“you oughtta not make’a habit outta’ this” but you know you’ve won, despite his words.

“i reckon it wouldn’t be too bad t’come home t’your wife with open arms for you now would it?” you grin with a catlike smile and he rolls his eyes, but his lips still tug upward in a smile nonetheless.

his eyes meet the red lights of the alarm clock on your nightstand and his frown returns.

11:41pm

he sighs and looks at you again, eyes gentle and filled with guiltiness. “sweets it’s quite late f’you to wait f’me to get home. you should be sleepin right about now” and you know he feels guilty, that he feels like he’s the one keeping you up. but he’s so wrong.

not a day goes by where you ever regret waiting for your husband to come home. you spend your mornings and evenings waiting for his arrival, day to night. sure he’s right outside tending to the animals but he’s always so busy, doing hard work. so you watch from afar, waiting for him to come back into the house, back into your arms. he’s a bright and big flame, and your heart happens to be a chimney on a snowy day in december, waiting to be lit.

so yes, you will stay up for your husband, even if he nags and nags at you to take your ass to bed. you will always be in your bed, waiting upon his arrival, waiting for his flame to ignite your heart again.

“darlin, id wait for you even if i knew you weren’t coming home that night. even if it meant i get no sleep for a week straight” your eyes are full of love and your face looked so tender, so serene.

he grips you tighter and shoves his head into the crook of your neck, planting a few light kisses. you bask in his warmth, one hand reaching to card through his hair and the other lay at the base of his neck.

his stubble tickles your neck and you try not to laugh, but a couple of giggles slip out. he gently pulls away from you, arms still around your waist, and looks at your face, searching for something. when he can’t find it he sighs, staring at you. he looks like he wants to say something, like something is on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t get it out.

so you wait.

you wait until he’s gathered all of his thoughts, until he knows what he wants to get out.

“why do you do that?” he pouts and you’re confused.

you tilt your head to the side, “do what hun?” and there’s a beat of silence, another one where he’s collecting his thoughts.

“love me like it’s as easy as breathin’”

you pause and think. just where in the world did this man come from, and why did he have to be so damn adorable.

you have no other words to say, besides the truth of course.

“because it is. lovin’ you was the easiest and best thing i’ve ever done in my life.”

Under the Stars, the Grass Smells Sweet

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: The ranch hand you loved in your younger years is back in town, this time as a rising star in the rodeo circuit. After a show, he reminds you that he hasn’t forgotten about you or the promise he made.  

/ “Oh, you still got a curfew?” He teased. “Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but I don’t work for your father anymore. I don’t have to abide by his rules. I can make you spend the night with me if I damn well please.”

The danger and authority in his voice sent a thrilling shock down your spine, only to be softened by his next words.

“That is, of course, if you’ll have me.”

CW: western AU, smut

Keep reading

cowboy!bakugo thought time.

so i’m imagining he works on your daddy’s farm, it’s a big old thing. lots of land that has been in your family for generations, a beautiful herd of cattle that is your father's pride and joy. he doesn’t live in the main house, obviously, but he does have a nice cabin just down the way that’s close enough to the ranch if he has to get up in the night for emergencies but also not so close that he can imagine he owns the land around him and lives a humble life.

he’s not always been interested in you, having written you off as a spoiled rancher's daughter when he first saw you because of your pretty blue dress and neatly curled hair. that was until one morning he was coming in to start his day at 5am sharp, his job was to let the cattle out to roam and then he can get to work on their shed, and tend to the horses & tack.

so colour him surprised when he opens the ranch door to see you already hard at work in shining those new boots your daddy got you for riding, his eyes track to the shiny leather of the saddle you just finished washing up. even the metal of the stirrups looks brand new. he always thought you were too stuck up, too prissy to be working down in the muck of the stable with the rest of ‘em.

another time he catches himself being surprised to see you is when you’re actually there after agreeing to wake up extra early to let the cattle out just before sunrise, you’re sat on the back of the beautiful mustang your father managed to win in an auction. your hairs pulled back into a loose braid, you’re still in your dress but you don’t seem to be uncomfortable with it. you look so relaxed, so natural on the back of a horse with the sun just rising behind you whilst you watch the cattle start to jostle around in preparation to be released.

over time he does start to get closer to you, be it when he gets alone time with you in the early hours of the morning when you’re both cleaning tack or mucking out the stables. or when he catches you in town on your way back home, you always refused to let him go into town to buy you things. always saying “i know i might not look like much but i can handle my own.” and doesn’t he know it, he remembers watching you punch the new stable hand clean in the nose for trying to swat at your ass with a horse whip.

he grows fond of you, always somewhere nearby when you’re out on the farm doing something. so that’s how he’s close by when he hears your startled scream, and then the undeniable sound of something heavy, and fast running. horses aren’t so heavy-footed so he knows it’s an escapee cow. he wastes no time in hopping onto the back of his horse, spurs digging in to encourage the horse to move faster.

as he clears out into the field, he can see the cow in question is absolutely ripping up the beautiful wheat that was just starting to grow and would surely be ruined after this. but cows are dangerous, stupidly so. he had no choice but to pursue, his hand going for the lasso on his belt as he leans his body forward and stood in the stirrups. it takes a practised hand and aimed throw but he finally loops the rope around the cow's neck, the thing slowing down when it realises it’s been caught.

he sees you breathe in relief and your face relaxes just slightly when he makes his way back over to you, the cow in tow. he hops off of his horse, leading the cow back into the pasture and making sure to double-check the latch is down before he turns to you. you have a bruise already on your jaw, looking suspiciously like the metal latch he was just touching.

“you alright? not hurt too bad are ya?” he says approaching you, you shake your head whilst puffing out your cheeks at the dirt you’re caked in.

“i’m fine.. dumb thing got spooked at somethin’.” you’re looking up at him now, squinting an eye at the sun that’s beating down on your face. he hums in response.

“well, your daddy’s gon’ kill me for tearin’ up the new field he just laid.”

“i’ll make sure he won’t, you did a good job. thank you for helpin’ me out katsuki.” you’re still smiling at him, he can’t help but smile back at you.

“good ‘cus who’s gonna save your sorry ass when one of the chickens get loose and start pecking at ya.” now he’s laughing as you slap at his arm, cursing him with a mouth that surely should not belong to the beautiful innocent rancher's daughter.

he’s absolutely smitten with you after that.

and your daddy doesn’t rip into him too much. apparently, you begged your father to not be too harsh on bakugo because it was your fault the latch wasn’t down and it would’ve been so much worse if the cow escaped onto the road or somehow into the house.

been rewatching westworld, and all i could think about is cowboy bakugo :( i love him.

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reblogs & likes appreciated!

i love domestic fics🥹

tags: AFAB reader (pregnancy), miya twins mother is a single parent, osamu POV, angst and fluff

As a child Osamu only asked his mama once about where his father was and felt regret soon thereafter, as her face had twisted in hurt. Though it wasn't because of him, he hadn't known that at the time, so he never brought it up again.

He spoke about it with 'Tsumu a few times over the years, but his older twin dealt with their fathers absence bitterly and hid behind his anger to protect himself. Osamu handled it differently.

Whilst he didn't feel any longing for a father figure, having been raised a happy child and thoroughly cherished, he only felt curious about who the man was.

Once they were old enough, their mama sat them down and solemnly asked if they would want to know about him. Atsumu flat out refused, he doesn't know shit about us so I don't need ta' know shit about him, but Osamu stayed to listen.

They had been high school sweethearts, freshly graduated and excited for the life they had ahead of them. But that simple dream would soon diminish, the break down of their relationship beginning with a small pregnancy test.

Initially their father had said he would support her, but those words were proven empty during her first scan. As she recited the memory she held their first sonogram between her fingers with glassy eyes. On the screen there'd been not one foetus, but two. Identical twins, soon to be her brilliant sons, each the size of a single plum. Her blessings. She recalled that she had glanced to her boyfriend excitedly only to be met with an expression of horror. I can't do this, he'd told her. I never wanted this. You said you were being careful, you tricked me didn't you?

A while later I calculated a rough estimate of when you two were conceived, she'd smiled weakly. During that week I was on antibiotics, it probably disrupted my contraception. Which is why I always stress that you use condoms, even if it embarrasses you!

Years later here he is sitting beside you, your hand trembling and enclosed in his as he stares at the black and white screen. The image is grainy and the shapes are awkward but they're there - his child, the child you had created together.

He presses a firm kiss to your knuckles, overcome with emotion as reality sets in. He's going to be a dad, in less than a year there will be a little person in the world that is half of himself and half of you.

Love fills him until it spills over and it pours and pours. Your cheeks are damp and your expression one of pure joy. As you lean over to pull him into a kiss, as you thank him for giving you a family, he can't help but think of his own father. He will never understand how he could walk away from this.

He thinks of his mama watching him on the grainy screen alone, her hand empty, and he cries for her.

The next day he stands with his arm around your waist in his childhood home and presents the woman that raised him with the first photograph taken of her grandchild. When she throws her arms around him he lets her cradle the back of his head while she weeps.