Soft And Sweet - Tumblr Posts
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!
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.”
2 SEATER ᡣ𐭩
atsumu miya x fem!reader college au
words: 1.2k
summary. just sweet sweet love making with your saccharine boyfriend in his 2 seater beamer. this is very self indulgent, i love sappy and sweet sexᡣ𐭩 this is also my first smut don’t roast me hehe
cw: smut, mdni 18+, car sex, established relationship, nicknames (i.e. baby, pretty), praise, dirty talk, creampie, markings, making out, atsumu’s unadulterated love for you,
squeak squeak squeak
the sound of atsumu’s ball joints creaking in the back of the parking lot of a movie theater can be heard if you got within 50 meters. any closer and you could hear the mewling and groaning going on inside of the bmw.
“tsumu, oh fuck, tsumu” you whine, gripping atsumu’s shoulders, leaving behind crescent shaped marks.
the windows are foggy and you feel like you’re on fire from how hot it is in his car.
the six foot man currently has you on hip lap, bouncing on his cock leaving you a babbling mess, chanting his name like a mantra. he’s reclined his seat, hands on your hips and biting his lip, eyeing you as you move up and down. the look of pure lust and love he’s giving you makes you squirm and clench around him even harder.
“that feel good, baby? yeah? my cock making you feel s’ good? hm?” he groans when your walls flutter around him, making him grip your hips harder which you were sure were going to leave a mark in the morning.
the lewd squelching sound of your juices mingling fills the car, along with pants and moans. his angled cock was bullying your insides, sticky tip hitting just right at that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars and leaving a hot white feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. you were left speechless, mind blank, only able to spew out a few words that consisted of only his name and a few curse words.
he looked angelic underneath you, kiss bitten lips, bangs stuck to his forehead from sweat, the tips of his ears were red, washboard abs littered with angry red scratches. he was a walking god, and you were just like a little nymph following him around, praising him and being utterly hopelessly devoted to him.
and you made him melt. left him with no words with the way you call out his name, begging him to kiss and hold you while he fucks up into your womb, leaving you aching and longing for more. the way your jaw was unhinged, spewing out his name because he was all that you could think about, your brain consumed by him and only him made him feel utterly euphoric knowing that he’s got you this fucked out.
he was a god, but you were his goddess. your lip tugged between your teeth, the hickeys and bite marks left around your neck and shoulder, perfect tits and perky nipples, and your voice, god your voice, calling out his name like a siren singing in his ear that made his whole body feel tingly from the tips of his finger all the way to his toes.
you hastily nod and murmur, “baby kiss me, kiss me, kiss me please tsumu.” you pant. he smashes your lips together, giant hand reaching for the back of your head to force you even closer. it’s hot and so, so needy, you feel your legs beginning to wear out from his kiss alone. teeth and tongue clashing, his saliva making its way down your lip and he nips at it. he snakes his other hand to the small of your back, pushing you against him so you’re chest to chest. the way your nipples rub against him every time you bounce has you shivering, leaving you soaking and wanting so much more.
the coil in your stomach begins to unravel and you’re moaning so loud. thighs quivering and your voice wobbles as you speak. “tsumu please, i can’t.” and he gives in so easily because the next thing you know he’s planting his feet on the floor and pistoning up into your fluttering hole.
you yelp and fall into his shoulder, biting at the intersection to keep you from sounding like such a needy bitch. this doesn’t go unnoticed by atsumu, who does not appreciate you silencing yourself. he reaches his hand down to tweak at your nipples and your mouth falls open into an o. “fuck, you look so pretty. love it when you call out my name. c’mon pretty, wanna hear all of it.” and you whine and whimper, writhing on top of him from the way his cock is bullying your poor abused pussy.
“tsumu, ‘m close! ‘m so close, please.” you sound so desperate and broken on his cock, he could listen to you all night like a broken record. he adjusts himself so he’s reaching even deeper inside of your velveteen walls, hitting all the spots he knew would be a one way ticket to an earth shattering orgasm. “oh fuck! right there, right there tsumu. gonna cum gonna cum!” you mewl, tears welling in your eyes as the bliss is too great for your body.
“shit baby, squeezin me so tight. only i can make you feel good like this yeah? tell me who’s pussy this is. hm? who’s is it?” his pace is brutal and you’re teetering on the edge, he tweaks your nipple again and you babble.
“‘s yours! all yours! only yours! fuckkkk, love you! love you so much tsumu! love you so fucking much! please.” and you moan so loud when you finally cum, juices gushing and making his abs and thighs glisten from your release. you’re limp on his body, he makes you feel like putty.
“shit, gonna fucking cum baby. ‘s all for you my love. gonna take it all right? gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, yeah?” he grabs your jaw tightly and kisses you so desperately. you whine as he continues his thrust and tightly grip his shoulders. he lets out a husky ‘fuck’, a few more thrust and the hot spurts of his seed spew into you, filling you up and making a creamy base at his cock. you feel so full and warm, and you let out a small whimper as your tongues fight against each other. he shudders from the intensity of his release and the only thing that keeps him grounded is the warmth from your body on top of his. you continue making out as you both come down from your highs, his softening cock still inside of you. the lack of oxygen makes you lightheaded so you pull away first, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.
his head is tilted back, leaning on the head rest as his eyes are closed and trying to catch his breath. you both stay like this for awhile, basking in the after glow of making love with the man who makes you feel like the luckiest girl in the entire world. you look up at him with nothing but pure adoration and love in your eyes, one of his arms around your waist holding your bare body against his. it’s such a tender moment that only leaves you with even more love for the man that you call yours.
he finally looks down and catches your eyes, reaching the hand that was behind his head to brush the hair out of your face and play with it. and he feels like jelly when you shoot him a small loving smile, gently placing a small kiss where your chin was resting, making the corners of his mouth twitch up as he mirrors the same smile. he reaches out to cup your cheek and your smile intensifies, turning your head to place a sweet kiss at the palm of his hand.
“i love you so much tsumu.” you murmur, never shying away from his intense gaze.
gently, he uses his thumb and forefinger to lift your chin, leaning in to give you a teeth rottingly sweet kiss.
“i love you more, pretty.”