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.

summary - smut, heavy comfort, FLUFF, when divorced dad/pro hero bakugou’s aquarium trip is ruined by intrusive fans, you offer to let them come back after hours so his daughter can see the belugas.

a/n: daddy and daddy kink(I couldn’t help myself), bakugou’s daughter is an adorable menace, single dad bakugou has basically no idea how to flirt, reader is insecure a touch, TW for the song baby beluga, reader wasn’t close with her father, Bakugou is in his early thirties, reader in mid twenties. Bakugou’s still kinda mean in bed. Oldest sibling!reader so she got the mom instinct, and unpainted nails because of the touch tank at her job.

minors dni

Bakugou silences his phone in his pocket, trying to ignore it’s incessant buzzing. He only had this evening with his daughter before he’d have to bring her back to his ex, the last thing he wanted to do was answer some bullshit questions from his agent. It doesn’t help that everyone at the aquarium is staring, people taking the occasional not-so-subtle photograph. His daughter runs ahead of him, and he catches up in a few strides.

“Sana,” He calls, “C’mere, sweetheart,” He takes her tiny hand in his, swallowing it completely as she turns to look at him, oblivious to the eyes on the two of them, but jumping at the soft camera clicks.

“Dad,” She gasps, “Look at the BELUGAS!” She giggles with delight when one swims past and his heart swells painfully, watching the joy spark in her face then travel through her body as she does a little dance. She turns to him, “Did you SEE that?” He nods. “Where do they LIVE?” She screams the last word, attracting even more attention. Someone comes up behind him, nervously holding a notebook.

“Um,” the young woman smiles at him, “Could you sign this for me, Dynamight?” He grunts, scribbling something on her paper. It’s like a dam breaks in the room, and suddenly there are three, five, ten, more people crowding him and Sana, and his first instinct is to tell them all to go to hell, but he remembers the clips of him losing his shit that they played at the custody hearing, and so instead he takes a deep breath and nods, acquiescing. Sana clings to his leg for a moment.

“What do they want daddy,” She whines, and a few of them have the grace to look chagrined, “I wanna show you the whales!”

“One second sweetheart,” He growls, forcing himself to keep his face neutral as these fucking extras shove pieces of paper into his hands. They move in closer, until his broad shoulders are flush against the cool glass, and he doesn’t immediately notice the lack of the tugging on his pants, the silence where usually a barrage of questions would be, but after about sixty seconds he looks down, and Sana is gone. All neutrality melts from his face, he whirls around, looking desperately. “Fuck off,” He snaps, jogging away from the people moving down the hallway. “Sana,” He calls, running down the tunnel where Manta rays float above your head, and past bright tropical fish, his heart pounds, could it have been a villain, how could he have let his fucking guard down like that-

-and there she is, bright giggles spilling from her lips, facing an aquarium employee who’s squatting in front of her in khaki shorts and a bright green polo.

“Don’t cry,” You coo, making huge bubbles with your hand that spill into the empty room, opalescent spheres that catch the light and pop when they brush anything solid. Bakugou spots the tear tracks on his daughter’s face and moves towards her but you slot your body between him and the little girl.

“Can I help you sir?” He blinks a couple times, so angry his hands are shaking, counting slowly in his head, down from ten, just like his therapist taught him.

“That’s my daughter.” he barely manages to get the words out and Sana leaps from behind you, climbing right up his leg like the worlds cutest spider monkey.

“All those people were scary,” She hiccups, “I didn’t like it.” Bakugou sighs, rubbing a comforting circle on her back.

“My fault.” He mutters, “All daddy’s fault, alright, let’s uh, let’s go home.” Sana starts to kick and scream in his arms.

“NO!” She yells. “I WANTED TO SEE MORE OF THE BELUGAS?” She bursts into tears. “They were rude, so now WE have to leave? That’s not f-f-fair.” Bakugou sighs, bouncing her a little, searching for the right words, when you take a step forward, and speak.

“Um, sorry, Mr. Um, Mr. Dynamight.” He regards you coolly, you look a little sheepish, perhaps, he thinks, for not recognizing him sooner. “If um, you’d like,” You glance down the manta ray tunnel, “I’m closing up tonight. If you come by at 7 I can give you a tour after closing, in exchange for you posting something about kids not throwing garbage in the ocean or something on Instagram.” He swallows. “It’s um,” you look so genuinely concerned that he softens a little, heart rate slowing, “She’s right, it’s not fair.”

“PLEASE DADDY!” Sana screams in his ear, leaning back, begging, grabbing one of his cheeks.” The huge man shifts his weight a little, considering, as Sana runs her hands down a huge scar, running down from the side of his face down under his thin t shirt. Sana turns back to you, “Sing the song pleeeeeeeeeeeeasseeee,” she begs, bending her back, trying to squirm out of the pro hero’s arms. You face burns with subtle embarrassment, your eyes flicking to Bakugou’s face, he was unbelievably, ridiculously handsome, and you were about to ruin any chance you had with him, even in the worlds ugliest work uniform.

“Baby beluga,” you sing softly, “Baby beluga,” Sana wipes her tears, away, totally focused on you, “Is the water warm, is your daddy home, with you, so happy, baby, beluga,” Bakugou watches Sana soften and reach for you, singing along.

“Baby, beluga, in the deep blue sea,” she sings, “Swim so wild and and you swim so free.” She turns back to Bakugou, “Your turn daddy!”

“Alright, Sana,” he rasps, “Let the lady do her job.”

“Can we come back later? Please?” She begs. He looks at you carefully.

“You won’t get into trouble?” He asks, eyes narrowing and you laugh.

“Of course not.” You smile warmly, “Besides, you risk your life every day for us. I think I can risk a talking to from my boss if you forget to post about being here.” He nods.

“I’ll have my manager take care of it,” He shifts Sana’s weight in muscled arms, looking even larger somehow with his daughter in them. “Seven?” You nod, and there’s a noise as more people start coming down the manta ray hallway in search of the number two pro hero.

“There’s a backdoor.” You say quickly, and he nods gratefully. You lead him around a corner into the empty gift shop, moving briskly through the racks of multi colored t-shirts and stuffed animals. Sana grabs a beluga whale plushie just as people start to filter into the gift shop, so you pick up the pace, pushing the metal door to the exit open.

“Put that back,” Bakugou hisses, as the crowd of people moves closer.

“It’s fine.” you say quickly, looking at the people taking pictures. “I’ll pay for it.”

“I can’t let you-” He growls.

“Get out,” you say pointedly, customer service smile never leaving your face, “Seriously, she doesn’t like the cameras.” He looks sharply down at Sana, who’s cowering against his chest. “She told me.” You say urgently and he nods,

“Thank you.” He darts out the exit into the mid afternoon sun.

“Why do people do that?” Sana sniffs, taking a fistful of his t-shirt. “I hate going places with you daddy.” There’s a silence, Bakugou holds her tightly enough so that she can’t look up and see the wetness in his eyes.

“I dunno, sweetheart.” he says after a long moment. “We’ll come back okay? Tonight.” She nods slowly. “Hey,” he coos, as she snuggles her new stuffed animal, “That fella got a name?” She nods.

“If it had teeth I’d name it after Uncle Kirishima,” She considers, “But it’s so soft,” She squeezes it tightly. “What do you think of ummmm,” she pauses, “SOFIA, like SOFIA THE FIRST!” He laughs lightly.

“We’ll have fun tonight, okay, no people, just you and me and uh,”

“Y/n.” She finishes happily. “With the bubble quirk.” Bakugou nods, the image of your soft smile, and how embarrassed you’d looked singing in front of him tattooed on the back of his eyelids. He thinks now, of the way you’d just shoved yourself in front of Sana when you thought he was a strange man barreling towards a lost girl.

“Y/n.” He repeats. “Yeah, and the belugas.”

“Of course,” She rolls her eyes, “Daddy the belugas will be there because that’s where they live!” He nods and lets her squirm out of his arms, leading her back to his car. At 6:15 Bakugou’s in the bathroom, shaving, while Sana plays with her toys. He listens to the way she gives each stuffed animal their own voice, and hears her words from earlier echo in his head. I hate going places with you daddy. He swallows, examining his face in the mirror, his scars, the dark circles under his eyes, the white hairs mixed in with the blonde. He warms some hair wax on his hands, styling his undercut carefully, unsure of who he’s doing it for.

He arrives 15 minutes early, according to the website, you close at 6:30 and he’s relieved to see only a couple cars in the parking lot. Sana bounces excitedly next to him as you push the heavy door open.

“I’m early.” He says, and you smile brightly.

“I had a feeling you might be,” you wave them inside, “Sana are you ready for the exclusive tour?”

“Yes!” She squeals, dancing in her little plastic jelly shoes, the ones with glitter that she’d begged for for Christmas. Bakugou follows easily as you lead them into the huge entrance hallway. “Wait!” She says, her little voice bouncing off the marble columns and high ceilings. “Why do we get the special tour?” Bakugou is about to jump in when you speak

“Your daddy’s a special guy.” She nods sagely.

“I know.” She whispers conspiratorially. “He saves people.” You laugh, it coruscates across the empty space, the sound sweet and pure, stirring something in Bakugou’s chest that he’d considered long dead. It reminded him of sweaty palms in classrooms, of thumping music at a party he didn’t want to be at, of the sound of a chair scraping against the restaurant floor on a first date. It felt like that, but better. Warmer.

“Let’s keep going,” you point to the huge replica of a killer whale hanging from the ceiling, “Can you tell me what that is?”

“That’s SHAMUU!” She says, and you smile.

“That’s right!” You take them through the main room, stopping and explaining, Bakugou watches silently, when you talk you gesture wildly, as if you’re spelling the words out with your hands. You’re in the Manta ray tunnel, the lights lower than earlier, creating an odd blue ambiance.

“What do you know about manta rays Sana?” You ask and she thinks about it.

“Manta Ray’s are gentle giants,” She says, like a scientific authority. “They like to make friends with divers and snorkelers, they’re very curious.” You beam at her.

“That’s right!” One swims right above your head and a shadow passes over the three of you, Sana jumps and curls herself around your bare leg, Bakugou takes a step forward to remove her, to apologize, but you reach down and ruffle her hair. “It’s okay, gentle giants, remember,” she nods and you squat down to her level, “It’s okay to be afraid, but take a step closer for me, he just wants to get to know you.” Sana nods, chewing her lip, releasing you and moving towards the glass in the tunnel. She presses her hand to the glass, and the manta ray comes closer, examining her. She laughs nervously and you look up at Bakugou meaningfully. He swallows, remembering himself, getting down on his daughter’s level.

“What uh,” he asks, “What else do you know about Manta Rays?”

“They can swim up to 22 miles per hour,” She breathes, as the brown creature comes closer to her, inquisitive. “They have huge brains, and they probably talk to each other somehow, but we haven’t figured out how they communicate.” You stand back up, inching away from this intimate moment. She squeals loudly when the animal comes right up to glass, resting its belly on it, right above her hand. Bakugou reaches out, covering his daughter’s hand with his own, as the manta ray flutters it’s huge wings. “Wow,” She says quietly. “Have you ever seen anything like this?” Bakugou opens his mouth, looking for words.

“No.” He says eventually. Sana’s attention snaps to you, waiting quietly in the low light, a few steps ahead of them in the tunnel.

“You too,” Sana orders, “You touch too, please.” She juts her chin out and Bakugou swallows.

“Sana, she doesn’t have to-”

“It’s okay.” You say quickly. You press your hand on the glass next to his.

“No,” Sana whines, “Under daddy’s so that the sizes make sense.” You laugh lightly, Bakugou withdraws his hand,

“You don’t have to do what she says.” He growls, and you shake your head.

“That’s just not true.” You put your hand on top of hers, the Manta Ray centers itself on that point and stays there. Bakugou reaches out, and covers your hand with his own. Your skin is soft, nails unpainted and short, he imagined for touch tank related reasons. “Your hands are huge.” The words fall from your mouth before you can stop them, and Bakugou smirks. “I mean,” you flush, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He shrugs. The Manta Ray loses interest then and so does Sana, ripping her hand away and tearing off down the hallway.

“It’s BELUGA TIME,” She yells, and you jog to keep up with her, Bakugou close behind. The whale room looks different at night, most of the light coming from the tanks, the huge white belugas more active, zipping around the tank. She takes off running, doing laps in front of the huge tank, dancing and twirling. “Sing the song!” She begs, without looking at you.

“Oh Ah,” You look over at Bakugou,

“She doesn’t have to, Sana,” Bakugou calls.

“But YOOOOOUUUU DO!!!” Sana calls, turning around, a familiar wicked smile on her face.

“She looks so much like you.” You murmur, turning to the pro hero, whol looks down at you, a hint of desperation on his face.

“What are the fuckin’ words?” He hisses. Your face burns.

“It’s um,” you start to sing, “Baby beluga in the deep blue sea,” She giggles happily, “You swim so wild, and you swim so free, heaven above and the sea below, and a little white whale on the go,” you turn to Bakugou, prompting him to join you on the chorus. “Baby, beluga,” you sing and to your shock, he joins you in a tone deaf rasp.

“Baby, beluga,” He sings, “Is the water warm, is your daddy home,” a lump forms in his throat as his daughters laughs spiral towards the ceiling, “With you, so happy,” You see his eyes get misty, and quickly move to distract Sana.

“Hey Sana,” You call, waving your hand in a wide arc, making a huge long bubble, “Does this look like a beluga to you?” She screams loudly, running back over to where you’re standing with Bakugou. He watches his daughter lean up to pop the bubble you made, and then she takes off down the hallway towards the penguins. You follow her, Bakugou matching your strides.

“You got a license for that shit?” He asks quietly and you laugh.

“Gonna report me?” He shakes his head.

“Thank you.” He stares off at Sana, jumping around. “I didn’t uh, plan on having kids.” You nod, listening. “I wish I could give her, more normal things, like this.”

“Are you kidding?” You turn to him, eyes wide and sad, “I would have killed to have my father take me to the aquarium at all.” You smooth your hair, modulating your tone. “You’re trying, I mean. That matters.”

“Huh.” He says, and you shrug then follow Sana to the penguins, pointing out the different species of them, all while wringing his favorite sound from his daughter, bright explosive laughter.

The rest of the tour is uneventful beyond Sana’s dramatic gasps, and the way she cowers behind her father at the hammerhead sharks. She’s tearing through the gift shop with a fervor when you turn to Bakugou again, speaking very quietly as she digs through a big bin of polished shells.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” He looks at you sharply, inspecting your face, your inquisitive eyes, perfect lips, the way your hair framed your face, surely he’d remember you if he’d met you before. “You actually,” you laugh nervously, “You saved my life.” He blinks at you. “It must have been your first or second year out of school but um, there was a villain robbing a bank, and I was inside.” You shrug, “I maybe, sixteen, and you came in, all confidence and power and the whole thing was over in a few minutes.” He searches his memory for that day, remembering the bank, and the tentacled villain, and, oh yes,

“You were hiding behind the couch.” He rasps, the scene vivid in his mind, it was one of the first times he’d been on the front of every paper, back then, it had felt like the ultimate victory.

“I was so afraid.” You say, “M-mr. Dynamight,” He scoffs.

“Bakugou.”

“Right, um,” Bakugou,” you look up at him, “You know when she’s memorizing those facts and spouting them, she’s not showing off for me,” he crosses his arms, looking away, “She wants you to be impressed with her.” There’s a silence. “Not to overstep.”

“‘S fine.” He grunts, remembering the stuffed animal, fumbling for his wallet, “How much for the stupid plushie whale?”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I’ll rephrase. Tell me how much the fuckin’ toy was.” He says, staring down at you. You jump a little at his coarse language, but Sana’s not in earshot.

“F-fifteen dollars.” You get out, immediately embarrassed by your stutter. He peels a twenty from his wallet. “And the post.”

“I emailed my manager, she’s taking care of it.” Bakugou responds. He eyes the sinking sun. “Is one of those cars out front yours?” You shake your head.

“I take the bus.”

“Today you don’t.” He says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll give you a ride.”

“That’s so kind of you.” You fidget a little. “I live pretty far though.” He shrugs.

“She sleeps in the car. You’d be doin’ me a favor.” You let out a long breath.

“Ah, alright.” Sana is dancing around the exit while the two of them wait for you to get your things.

“She’s nice daddy.” Sana says. “And she said I could come back and see the beluga’s anytime.” Bakugou nods. “And maybe, if she came around more, mommy wouldn’t worry about you being so lonely.” Her words hit him like a sucker punch.

“Mommy uh, Mommy worries about me?”

“Yeah,” Sana says, nodding, “I do too.” He swallows, plucking her off her feet.

“You never need to worry about me,” He rumbles, “Remember, daddy’s the strongest,” he tickles her and she giggles, kicking her little legs, “And the smartest,” she laughs harder as he lifts her up and blows a raspberry into her soft stomach, “And?” He waits for her to finish.

“The best hero ever!” She squeals loudly, reaching her little hands out for him, he nestles her against his broad chest. You come out, in a sweet little sundress that fits at your waist and then floats down around your thighs. He does some math at light speed, if you were sixteen when he’d ended that bank heist then you were, five years younger than him? So when he’d had his first kiss, you’d been in middle school, when he’d gotten married you’d been in high school, when he’d-”

“Ah, Mr. um,” you catch yourself at his scowl, “Bakugou, I’m ready, if you want to go.” He nods, leading you out to his car, a sleek black luxury model that flew just underneath the radar.

“What neighborhood are you in?”

“Uh, downtown, by the bridge?” He unlocks the car and it beeps softly, he waits until Sana is clipped into her seatbelt and the car door is closed before turning to you.

“That’s a shitty area.” You shrug.

“We’re not all pro heroes.” He walks around the car and for a moment you’re confused, but then you realize he’s opened your door for you. “Oh, um,” your face warms, “Thanks.”

“You look shocked.” He says dryly, as you swing into the seat. He moves around the car quickly, settling into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah,” You laugh lightly, “Guys my age don’t do things like that.” He nods, at the press of a button, the engine hums to life.

“Mind if I drop her off first?” Bakugou palms the steering wheel, expertly navigating out of the nearly empty parking lot, “My ex loses it if she’s late.”

“Of course, that’s fine.” You say, as smoothly as you’re able, palms slick as you think of the idea of being alone, in the car, with the handsomest man you’d ever seen. Even the way he drove was attractive, the subtle scent of whatever cologne he was wearing wafting through the small space, changing lanes decisively, the engine letting out a low roar when he accelerated. One hand rests on the console, inches from your thigh.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Sana inquires from the backseat, the wicked smile you recognized from early posters of Dynamight on her face again.

“Sana,” Bakugou cautions, looking over his shoulder before merging onto the highway. “We don’t ask people that.” You laugh.

“It’s alright, Sana, I don’t.”

“Did you EVER have a boyfriend?” She pushes, and Bakugou glares at her in the rearview mirror while she ignores him.

“Yeah,” Bakugou’s eyes move to your hands, doing a nervous little dance in your lap. “He wasn’t my prince charming,” You say, twisting in your seat to face the little girl, reaching for words she’ll understand.

“What was wrong with him?” Sana asks, fascinated.

“Sana,” Bakugou says again, “You don’t have to answer that.” He turns to you. “You’ve indulged her plenty.”

“That’s ok!” You coo, making a big distracting bubble. “Some people, you know, are not so nice,” You explain, as the bubble floats through the back of the car, and she watches it.

“Like the villains daddy fights!”

“Yes,” You agree, “Like that.”

“Did you know my daddy is a hero?” She asks, sitting up in her seat a little. “The best one ever.” Bakugou grins despite himself.

“I did know that!” You respond, and she yawns loudly.

“I am, SO tired.” She announces to the car, “Daddy I’m gonna go RIGHT to sleep.” He chuckles deeply.

“Yeah, I’m sure mommy will be thrilled to hear that.”

“Gonna sleep so fast there won’t be ANY time for vegetables,” She explains, winking at you.

“Ahh,” You nod, “I understand.”

“Vegetables are delicious,” Bakugou counters, “And Sana always finishes them when she’s with daddy.”

“Daddy, your food is better!” Sana complains, yawning again, “Daddy’s the best cook.” She closes her eyes, the hum of the car and the excitement of the day too much for her. There are a few minutes of silence, you turn back around and watch the city flash by.

“You in school?” He asks, and you nod.

“I’m doing my masters in Marine Biology, so I work at the aquarium a few days a week when I’m not studying.” Bakugou searches his mind for topics, for maybe the first time in his life he’s desperate to make conversation, to draw you out a little before he lets you go. He reaches down and turns the radio on low. To his delight you let out a soft coo,

“I love this song.” He nods, he’s never heard the soft strumming of the guitar, but your face warms like a candle.

“Bad breakup?” He asks, and then kicks himself, was there such thing as a good breakup? Fuck he was so-

“Yeah.” You pause. “He um, he had a drinking problem.” Sana’s snoring softly in the back. “And some other problems.” Bakugou shakes his head, a shadow moving over your face as he turns onto his ex wife’s street.

“Mommy had some problems too.” He says, eyes flicking to Sana in the backseat. “But I wouldn’t change it.” Your jaw sets.

“I don’t think about the past like that.” You mumble, “I mean, I like to analyze, or maybe over analyze, but I, I mean, I’m who I am, right, because of it. I don’t know any other version of myself.” He nods, but you continue. “I think, I’m so terrified of making a mistake and screwing up my whole life.”

“It’s harder than you think,” He rasps quietly, “To ruin your own life, most things, start as mistakes, but end up feeling like choices.” He parallel parks in front of the stately marble building he pays rent for but seldom steps foot in.

“Can you park here?” You wonder out loud, and Bakugou smirks.

“I park wherever the fuck I want.” He gets out, scooping Sana out of her seat and closing the door with his hip. You’re only alone for a few minutes but it’s enough time for you to completely lose your grip on reality, to wonder, what the fuck you were doing in Dynamight’s car, what you were doing telling his daughter about your shitty ex, why you’d offered to stay late just on instinct, why he’d even come? Your pulse races, he wasn’t flirting with you, not a nobody, not someone who looked like you, who had barely bothered to do their makeup, men like him, they dated models, and famous philanthropists. He was just being nice. He had to be.

In the elevator coming down from dropping his daughter off, Bakugou doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He tries shoving them in the pockets of his jeans, but that feels wrong, and crossing them feels strange, but he’s too keyed up to let them hang at his side. He sees you before you see him, you look so genuinely nervous, eyes huge and unfocused, he almost gives up right there. His feet however, still carry him to the front seat of his car.

“Downtown, you said?” He asks.

“Yep.” There’s a brief pause before you speak quickly. “I shouldn’t have, you know, talked about my ex, that was weird.”

“I asked.”

“I mean, yes you did, but I still feel like it was weird, I mean I’m some random Aquarium employee who you met a few hours ago, I shouldn’t be just, like, sharing-”

“I asked.” He says again, looking over at you. “Because I wanted to know.”

“Oh.” There’s another pause. “You’re different now, than you seemed, I guess, when you were younger.”

“I’m older now.” He says, and then kicks himself again, he shouldn’t be drawing attention to the age gap, and what the fuck kind of a response was that, I’m older now? What were you supposed to say? Instead of speaking, you turn the radio up. “I know this song,” he blurts out, and you laugh.

“Because it’s old,” and he swats at you on instinct, you giggle and avoid his halfhearted attempt, “It is!” You protest, leaning on the console. “Won’t you, take me by the hand, take me somewhere new, don’t know who you are, but I, I’m with you,” you sing along, and he shakes his head.

“At least it’s good Avril Lavigne.” He mutters. “Not whatever the shit girlfriend was.” You nod, looking out the window again, and he wracks his brain for something to draw you back to him.

“Do you uh, have any siblings?” Lame.

“Yeah,” You say, turning back to him. “A younger brother.”

“So you’re the oldest?”

“Yep,” You confirm, “The pseudo parent.” You scoot a little closer to him as he looks down to turn his signal on. “Do you want more kids?”

“I didn’t even want one.” Bakugou says honestly, “But now that I’ve got her I want a million of those little fuckers, she just,” He laughs, “She’s got me wrapped around her damn finger. Best thing that ever happened to me.”

“That’s so lovely,” You sigh happily, “I think I want a bunch too, and a house somewhere quiet by the ocean, maybe.”

“With someone who opens car doors?” He rips his eyes from the road and allows himself one second of looking at your legs before focusing again.

“Well gentlemen are an endangered species.” You take your phone out, “Do you want to hear what’s waiting for me on this dating app?” He grins.

“Yeah, let’s hear what the extra’s think is gonna win you over.” You hold up one finger and read.

“Hey baby,” You say, “How do you like your eggs in the morning?” Bakugou snorts and catches a wicked glint in your eye, “Should I say, unfertilized.”

“He’s not worth the caloric energy you’d burn typing that response.” He says, making a wide left turn. “What makes a guy, a gentleman, to you?” He rasps, keeping his voice casual. “Ya lookin’ for someone who’ll bring ya flowers and write ya poetry?” You giggle.

“No,” you take a deep breath and let it out through your nose, “This is so lame, you can’t make fun of me.”

“I do not promise that.” He says. “Don’t say somethin’ stupid and I won’t mock ya for it.”

“Okay, okay,” You speak again, gesturing like you did earlier when you were giving the tour, “I’m the oldest sibling, I’m responsible, and smart, and I would like for once in my life, to be the person being taken care of rather than the other way around. I want,” you pause, thinking, “I want to be with someone who is always thinking like, what can I do to make her smile, to make her life better, because that’s how I am, and I just, never found someone who matches me there.”

“Huh.” He says.

“Go ahead.” You stick your chin out. “Mock me.”

“Can’t.” He says, frowning. “Too sincere.”

“I also hope he’s tall.” You quip, and Bakugou laughs harshly,

“Think one of those two things is gonna be easier to find than the other.” You flip through the dating app. “Those are shit, by the way.”

“I work too much to meet people any other way.” You sigh. “Sorry, this isn’t what you signed up for, when you offered to drive me home, I’d give myself 0 stars on uber for oversharing.”

“You edit a lot.” he says gruffly.

“Yeah, I’m um,” You touch the back of your neck, “Maybe the most nervous I’ve ever been.”

“Because of me?” He asks, looking over at you, measuring the warmth of your cheeks, your soft smile, the slight tremor of your hands. “Are you cold?”

“Um, yes, and no.”

“Your hands are shaking.”

“I’m nervous!” He pulls up to a red light, bathing both of your faces in crimson.

“Why?” He asks, “Because I’m a hero?” You swallow, close your eyes and throw caution to the wind.

“Because I was gonna maybe ask you inside for a drink, but um, if you’re gonna say no, then I didn’t ask.” His heart thrums in his chest.

“If I’m gonna say no you didn’t ask?” He repeats, just to watch you crumple with embarrassment, adorable. “Relax, princess, I’m comin’ up.” You lift your head.

“You’re terrible.” You say with a warm smile, and he matches it. “I mean it.” He reaches over and pats your knee, unsure what possessed him to touch you, but unable to stop.

“You ain’t seen nothin’.”

“I’m a little messy, heads up,” you confess, and he shrugs. “And I only have whiskey.”

“Tryna get me drunk?” He asks, slowing down as he enters your neighborhood.

“No!” You protest, “No I promise I’m not-”

“Relax,” He says again, “I’m just pushin’ your buttons.” You cross your arms and huff. “You really just jumped in front of Sana today,” He says after a moment.

“I didn’t think about it.” You say honestly. “Now I feel silly, if you did want to take her, I’m fairly certain there’s nothing I could do about it. You look at his defined biceps and thick forearms. “Oh, here.” You point and he frowns. This isn’t just a crappy neighborhood, it’s a dangerous one. Your building is in disrepair, bricks crumbling down into the ally , the air condition unit drips on the dirty sidewalk. He parks quickly and gets out of the car, and gets do your door so quickly that he’s able to shut it on you when you try to open it yourself.

“What did I tell you?” He grins, “I open the doors around here.” Your stomach does a backflip.

“R-right.” He offers you a hand, lifting you out of his car, and not releasing it as you move towards the building. He watches you fumble with your keys, and where you would have struggled to open the sticking door in the humidity he’s able to wrench it open with one firm yank. “Thank you.” You murmur, and you lead him up the dark stairway, the building smells like cigarettes, your footsteps are muffled on the filthy brown carpet. There’s a faint buzzing from fluorescent light in the hallway. and it flickers a little. You wince when you finally get to the door, “I know the building’s depressing but,” You open your door, “I think my place is nice.” He ducks his head to get through the door, the ceilings here are low, clearly in violation of some building code. Your apartment is messy, strewn with books and papers, a couple plants on the window sill, he recognizes fresh basil, the rest must be herbs. The light is soft and yellow when you flick it on, and the colors are warm and inviting. You slip your bag off your shoulder and it’s hard to focus on anything else when you bend down in front of him, he heard the clang of glass and you pop back up with a bottle of whiskey.

“That’s shit.” He says, shaking his head, but you just giggle.

“More for me.”

“Get me a glass.” He orders, and to his surprise you nod, padding into your kitchen and taking two mugs from the cabinet. “Don’t you have glasses?” He asks and you shrug.

“Nope.” You pour each of you a hearty serving then gesture to the couch, handing him his mug. “Sorry to make the number two hero rough it.”

“I can handle it.” He takes a sip of the whiskey, and manages not to wince. “I’m more worried about you, princess,” He says lowly, watching you sip the liquor like it’s water.

“I’ll be fine.” You mumble. “Sorry, really, that my place isn’t so nice.”

“I like it.” He says, scooting closer to you on the couch, and willing his hands not to sweat as he reaches for you. He slips an arm around your shoulders, you’re sitting with your knees tucked into your chest.

“Do you um,” he’s so close to you, you can count every freckle on the bridge of his nose, “Want to watch tv?” He snorts, setting his mug on the table.

“Fuck no,” He breathes, before reaching out and cupping your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “Can I, uh,” he feels so stupid, in his youth, he’d have just pinned you down, he’d have one hand around your neck by now, “Can I kiss you?” You nod, lifting your head to his.

“Please,” you breathe, and presses his lips to yours and then sucks gently on your lower lip, his hold on your face gentle but firm, guiding you. With his free hand, he takes your drink and sets it on the coffee table, then his hands drop to your waist, lifting you with a soft grunt, so that you’re facing him in his lap, straddling him on your knees. His hands drop to squeeze your ass, your thighs, letting out a soft groan at the give in them, before bringing one of them to the small of your back to move your hips against his.

Your head is spinning, mind swimming, as your face gets warmer and your need grows, you gasp softly into his mouth, and he slips his hands under your shirt, palming your breasts, first through your bra, but quickly losing patience with it, taking it in two hands and tearing the fabric like paper.

“Bakugou,” You gasp, more surprised than annoyed, but he just grins.

“I’ll get ya somethin’ nicer.” He flicks his calloused hands over your nipples and watches your delicious reaction, your pupils dilating, your soft lips parting, he could watch this for hours. You suck on your pouty lower lip for a second when he pinches them softly, it’s like you’ve never been touched before, you’re so sensitive. “Fuck,” He growls, when you mewl for him, “Get this shit off.” You nod emphatically, flopping on your back to take your t-shirt off while he pulls your leggings off and yanks your plain cotton panties to your ankles. You go to sit up but he snaps, “Don’t move,” and tugs his own shirt off, revealing layers of scarred, tanned muscle. You must show your desire on your face because he smirks.

“Like what ya see?” You look away, embarrassed he caught you staring, but he climbs on top of you, catching your chin in one hand, “You look so cute when you’re embarrassed,” he says, “Do’ya do this often,” and you squirm more underneath him, “Pick up dads at the playground?”

“No-ohhh,” you sigh through your denial when he buries his face in your neck, his rough tongue on your soft skin, kissing and biting, bringing pleasure with just the edge of pain, “I didn’t think you’d,” you cut yourself off with another moan when he slots a thigh between yours, and presses it firmly against your sex, “Fuck, I didn’t, think you’d-”

“You didn’t think,” he laughs, trailing his lower lip across your skin, taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking hard enough to make you breathe in sharply and arch your back, “That I started thinkin’ about how much you’d cream on my cock while you were squirmin’ in my front seat?” You whimper and grind your hips against his thigh, “Needy little slut,” he growls, sticking two fingers in your mouth, “Suck.”

You hollow out your cheeks and he watches in awe as he pushes them further between your perfect lips, flicking your tongue over his digits, eyes wide and opium blown.

“That’s it,” He grunts, “Get ‘em nice and wet for me.” He pushes a little farther, and finally gets what he wants, triggering your gag reflex, making your hips buck underneath him, your throat convulse, and tears well in your eyes. “Good girl,” He says, in the softest tone of voice he’s capable of taking his soaked fingers and trailing them up your slit, he notices you soften a little at the words. “You like that?” You blink at him and he slaps your thigh, “I asked you a fuckin’ question, you like it when I tell you you’re my good girl?” Your mouth drops open as he choses that moment to part your folds, stealing the air from your lungs by way of dipping his middle finger into your burning core.

“Fuck,” you chirp, “Yes, yes I like it.” He pumps his fingers in and out of you a couple times, and you roll your hips against his hand, he curls them inside of you and you moan loudly, “Daddy please,” you squeal as he grinds the heel of his palm against your clit.

“Daddy,” he repeats in a low growl, “You filthy fuckin’ thing,” He leans down and speaks directly in your ear, wedging himself between the body and the couch, “Spent the day with me and my daughter and now that I’m knuckle deep in your cunt you wanna call me daddy?” Tears burn in your eyes, you whimper, he’s pressing against that bundle of nerves with every thrust now, your thighs are trembling, “Go on then, cum all over daddy’s fingers, you dirty,” his teeth graze your earlobe, “fuckin’ slut.” Your orgasm rips through you, and you cry the loveliest half choked sobs, curling into his body. He rubs your back, trailing his fingertips over your skin, making you shiver.

You look up at him, with soft, wet eyes, and take his hand, bringing it to your lips. He watches, transfixed as you gently lick his fingers clean.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” he breathes, when he can speak again, “You wanna be daddy’s good girl?” You squirm underneath him and he chuckles. “Nah, you’re not gettin’ away that easy.” He sits up, moving you with him, sitting you gently on his lap. He unzips his dark jeans, and hooks his thumbs in his boxers, pulling them down, letting them fall to his ankles. His cock springs loose, thick and heavy, slapping against his abs.

“Oh, my god,” The words fall from your lips before you can stop them.

“Think ya can take it?” He asks, sitting up and pressing his forehead to yours. “Think you can handle daddy’s fat fuckin’ cock?” You roll your eyes and he chuckles dangerously, catching your face roughly in a calloused hand. “Now was that a good idea?”

“N-no, probably,” you get out, his hand squishing your cheeks, muffling your words.

“Good guess,” he snarls, releasing you and rubbing the head of his cock against your softness, pressing it directly against your clit which is still throbbing from your orgasm. You feel just the head of it at first, and you hiss as eases into you, pressing down on your hips as you sink down on his length.

“Fuck,” you choke out, “You’re s’big,” he guides your hips, lifting you an inch up and and slamming you back down so hard you cry out, burying your face in his neck.

“Too much?” He asks lowly,

“Don’t stop,” You beg, breathless, “Please,”

“Squeezin’ me so tight,” He groans, “Relax a little,” he moves his hips, bouncing you experimentally, delighting in the soft broken gasps spilling from your lips into his neck. “That’s it,” He growls, “Atta girl,” He picks up the pace a little, grabbing a fistful of your ass and then slapping it hard, “Atta fuckin’ girl.” You lean back a little, lifting your head and kissing him as he fucks you hard, hips slapping against yours with every thrust. Your hands tangle in his straw hair, and he lets out a low rumble when you pull, “Harder,” he orders, bouncing you faster, until your breath is coming in short little gasps between moans, completely undone in front of him.

“D-daddy,” You warble, giving in, collapsing against him, “Need to cum again.”

“Now that she needs to cum I’m daddy again, huh?” He lets out a sharp breath, “Fuck, though you’ve got a tight little pussy,” he moves you, pressing his forehead to yours again, so that he can look directly into your eyes. “Gonna let daddy take care of you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” You chant, nodding emphatically, “Please,”

“Gonna be daddy’s sweet little cocksleeve?”

“Mhm, yes, please, daddy,” You mewl.

“Fuck,” He snarls, thrusts getting sporadic as he nears his own high, leaning forward and biting down on your neck, “Cum for me.” He snaps, and you clench down on him, cunt fluttering around him as you cry, and as he rakes his nails down your back, letting you milk him dry. For a few minutes there’s only breathing, he draws patterns on your soft skin. “Good girl.” He whispers, breaking the silence. You wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him. You stay like that, resting, breathing until Bakugou feels you shiver, and moves a little, waking you up.

“Oi,” He murmurs, “Time to put some clothes on, huh princess?” You swallow. Of course, you think, he got what he came for. You nod, climbing off of him, legs shaking as you pull your panties back on, and step into your leggings. You pick up your ruined bra. “Toss it,” he orders, “I’ll get you somethin’ nicer.”

“You don’t have to.” You say, and he bristles at the edge in your voice.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing.” You say, disappearing down the hallway to find clothes.

“Uh, uh,” He follows you, pulling up his pants and boxers, leaning against your door frame as you dig in your dresser. “What’s goin’ on?”

“You just um,” You speak without turning around, “You can go if that’s what you want.” He laughs harshly.

“Is that what this is about?” You’re wiggling into another bra and he frowns.

“I don’t like that one either.”

“Could it be you just like my tits out?” He steps into your bedroom, wrapping his thick scarred arms around you.

“Are ya poutin’ because you thought I don’t wanna stay the night?” He says in a low rasp.

“I would understand-”

“Oh, I’m not sleeping here.” He says meanly, and your shoulders droop so immediately that he can’t tease you for another second, “Because we’re going back to my place, you fuckin’ moron.” He flicks your forehead then shudders, “I don’t wanna find out what your cheap ass mattress is gonna do to my old man back.” He picks you up, holding you by the thighs while you avoid eye contact, “And in the mornin’ I’ll make you the best damn breakfast you’ve ever eaten, so smile for me or somethin’ dumbass?”

“I don’t eat breakfast.” You mumble and he shakes his head.

“You do now princess.” He tosses you roughly onto your bed. “So get your shit, because we’re leaving.”

“You seriously don’t have to pretend you want-”

“If you say that again,” Bakugou scowls, annoyed, “I swear to god I’ll take you right over my fuckin’ knee.” You blanch. “Or would ya like that too much? Gonna soak right through your panties for me? Tch.”

“Well I mean technically speaking, my panties are wet, because,” Something hits him.

“You’re on birth control, yeah?” You snort.

“Yeah, Bakugou.”

“No need to look so relieved.” He puts you down. “Betcha’d like it if I locked you down, huh?” You swat at him halfheartedly searching your closet for some pajamas resembling lingerie. “Also uh,” He pauses, “‘S Katsuki.” You shove some clothes into a beg, and he waits for you while you grab your things from the bathroom. He leads you down the stairs, out of your crappy apartment, into his sports car. He speeds through the city, taking tight turns and running yellow lights, one hand on the wheel and one hand on your thigh.

He pulls up in front of his building, and you reach for the car door but think better of it.

“Good girl,” He coos condescendingly, “She’s learning.” He takes his time walking around the car, opening the door for you and helping you to your feet before tossing the keys to his building’s valet, draping an arm around your neck. Your sneakers look out of place on the shining marble floors, and when you see your reflection in the closing elevator doors it’s distorted. He runs his wallet over a sensor, and it beeps, flying you up to the penthouse floor. You step into his apartment, and gasp at the view of the city from his floor to ceiling windows, but you only have a second to marvel in the darkness because he’s snatching you up, and carrying you down the hall to his bedroom, with soft grey sheets and the blinds closed.

“You can drool at the view in the mornin’.” He growls and you reach for your bag.

“I brought stuff to um, sleep in.” You mumble and he relents, stepping out of his jeans, and putting on a clean pair of boxers before flopping on his bed, watching you strip, body glowing in the low light. You slip on a pink satin tank top and high waisted shorts, and turn to him, unconsciously asking for his approval.

“C’mere,” he says, lifting his arm, and you dive under the covers, shivering. “He tucks your chin under his head. “Meant it by the way earlier, no take backs.” Your eyelids are drooping and you’re so warm and comfortable that you almost don’t question it. He hooks a leg around yours trapping your thigh between his.

“What?”

“Said you’d let me take care of you.” He mutters.

“Oh.” You tighten your grip on his arm. “You were serious, about that?” You can practically feel his eyeroll as he tightens his grip on you.

“’Course I was. Now go the fuck to sleep.”

i cant decide if i should write pt 2 of the atsumu fic, a spiderman midoriya fic, or a yakuza boss bakugo fic, pls help me decide🥹

my only regret

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.

↳ [masterlist]

reblogs & likes appreciated!

just saw a tiktok of a cattle rancher gathering cattle in thick snow and i WILL be writing about this with bakugo.