red-daddy-riot

[red-daddy-riot]

my ancient greek history professor is making us post memes weekly. i swear to god

[red-daddy-riot]

“Be Still, Just for Me” Bakugo x Fem!Reader, Ch. 32

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

Summary: Bakugo Katsuki, a Pro Hero in Japan, is used to the routine: wake up, kick villain ass, rinse and repeat. He’s living his dream, soaking in all he’s ever wanted and worked for.

During the brief moment he lets his guard down, everything changes.

Tossed into a world without quirks with nothing but the clothes on his back, he’s forced to accept the help of someone who knows exactly who he is: a manga character who should definitely not exist.

Chapter length: 15k

Reminder that the A03, Wattpad, and Quotev links will be in a reblog! They’re also in my profile header! <3

Co-written and plot mapped by @rose-sparks13 

The alarm, oh the dreaded alarm blared in your ears like a siren song entrancing you to wake up. Horrible. Awful. Annoying. Loud. 

You were far too sleepy to remember what day it was or why you’d set the alarm in the first place, instead deciding to cushion yourself against the wall of warmth under your sheets. However, this very alive wall had other plans in mind. 

Namely a plan that consisted of annoying you awake so that you shut off your damn phone. 

“Alright, ALRIGHT, fucking…too early…” You groaned and shoved Katsuki away weakly in a pitiful attempt to get him to stop pinching your sides before rolling over to shut off your phone. A strong arm snaked around your middle and warm breath tickled your ear a few seconds after you closed your eyes again. “Katsuki.”

Keep reading

[red-daddy-riot]

bakugou katsuki (爆豪勝己)

mini fics !! (<1000)

++ my faves !!

bakugou is a nosy boyfriend 800wc part two 750wc

bakugou and you are great at relationship advice 620wc

ex boyfie bakugou 1.2k another one another

– your ex boyfriend is so annoying.

librarian!reader 630wc – a pro hero walks into a library…

erm… kids ??? 690wc – babysitting your cousins with your boyf

drunk weeing with boyfie katsuki 680wc – club toilets can get a bit lonely.

++ suits and tracksuits 750wc – opposites attract.

++ sunglasses 670wc – you love bkg in sunglasses.

++ bakewell tarts 490wc part two: welcome !! 561wc part three: tiny crimes —wc – the girl who owns the coffee shop is cute.

++ freckles and beauty spots 870wc – bkg has lots of them.

love language: acts of service 750wc – why do things when he can do it for you?

++ the blonde in the vip area 700wc – bkg doesn’t go clubbing. but you’re pretty.

news correspondent yn 655wc more !! even more!! – you love to taunt pro hero bkg.

++ he thinks you’re pretty 742wc – bkg cant stop complimenting you.

after a blind date 659wc // wiper fluid prank 189wc – tiktok pranks on your boyf. but it actually happened.

use me 849wc – bkg isn’t used to asking for help.

(bts)army!yn x ph!bkg headcanons 772wc – a couple people thought ACTUAL military (#me x bkg x bts for more)

i must really love you 780wc – it’s one of your favourite things to hear your boyfriend say.

++ pro hero dynamight eats all seven hot wings! 958wc — bkg talks about you on youtube hot ones interview

bakugou's whipped. 688wc -- he doesnt care either.

mugler on the red carpet — you and katsuki get fitted for your red carpet outfits

++ lipgloss — katsuki hates when you wear lip gloss

you're all dirty 875wc -- model!yn, bkg will never miss one of your shows

he spoils you like it’s his job — he’ll buy you anything. you don’t even have to ask.

katsuki’s secret hobby — listening to your boyfriend rant is so cute

++ before, during and after (smut) — bkg has an idea involving your polaroid camera

exboyf!eren x boyf!bkg — your ex boyfriend is a famous streamer, your boyfriends a pro hero

apologies — how bkg would apologise

storming out — katsuki wants to pay !

you’re on singles inferno — katsuki watches at home

three years — some best friends to lovers

you’re mine now — fake dating

++ touchy feely (smut) (495wc) — playing with him… soft.

touchy feely part 2 (smut) — playing with you

++ where’s the protein powder? (618wc) — daddy katsuki

lost a friend (530wc) — katsuki learns how to comfort you

++ hand cream — you’ve always got extra cream on your hands

fucking in a limo (smut) — how could you not ?

self sabotage — when things get too good then harder the fall is when it gets bad

turning him on turns you on

he meets your family

++ i love you, but you know that. (smut) — your love for each other comes out desperately, inescapable.

kick your ass — you’re drunk and katsuki’s just trying to take you home

mafia!bkg — your mafia boss boyfriend

neighbour upstairs — you live on top of rookie pro hero dynamight’s new agency

move your fuckin’ hand — times bakugou says…

pornstar pussy — you shave for the first time

actress and the pro hero — before the interview

++ foreplay? — you’re supposed to be a virgin. why are you treating him like he is?

++ jealousy in the agency -- why is he smiling at her?!

++ GQ couple quiz -- you and bakugou both both feature on the gq youtube channel

achy on your period -- smut lmao

house hunting

++ being stubborn -- collecting you from your friends house at 2am is proving to be a mission

angry fucking — it’s in the title

arguments — he never listens to you.

another love island fic

virgin!bkg because of his quirk

++ CLOSE — lotus position, you miss your boyfriend so you surprise him with some lingerie

control — katsuki is gassed

after hours — napping while he’s working

cuddles — visiting your boyfriends apartment means you get to see his three roommates too

++ mean — katsuki doesn’t wanna be mean

++ shut up katsuki — you didn’t tell your ex boyfriend you love him

++ get to know you — you’re the daughter of bkgs favourite hero.

beach house

fake thrusting to lovers — bakugou loves to pretend to fuck you when you bend over, so much so he does actually… fuck you

would bakugou cheat?

skating rinks

you and katsuki’s reality show

++ angry showering

++ horny voice notes

++ introducing you to sho n izuku

making out

baseball bat

pretty housedress

camping

ex boyf with benefits

daughter of a pro hero

++ fuckin soulmates

tell me you love me — drunk bakugou doesn’t realise you’re his girlfriend

++ the next lecture — high energy fashion yn x smart grumpy bkg

++ private person

mutual masturation

++ accidentally kicking him in the face - when he’s eating you out

yn and dynamight talk about public relationships! — to the new 2a ua class

try not to kiss challenge

your boy(best)friend — bkg hates your best friend

cute, soft and loving — high in the bathtub

[red-daddy-riot]

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.”

[red-daddy-riot]

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.”

[red-daddy-riot]

you’ll have to be more specific

[red-daddy-riot]

yt/influencer yn who does the 24 hr language challenge w pro hero bf dynamight. I’m thinking either yn speaks in her native language for 24 hrs and vlogs the whole day bkg is trying to understand and guess but loves how diff and comforting u sound super sweet lots of giggles. ORRE bkg speaks in Japanese for 24 hrs and u have to navigate that, uk a bit of phrases and when he swears and says ily omg again so sweet. But either way it would be SOOO cute to see the other rly trying and just staring at the other for clues my heart

i love language fics and influencer youtube yn !!

bkg speaking japanese for 24 hours and you know literally bare minimum. basic phrases like hello, bye, how are you and thank you. you recognise swear words because you hear you boyfriend mumble them often. also a few compliments words because he calls you them. but an actual conversation? day to day conversation. you’re lost.

bakugou doesn’t mind taking part in this video. he loves speaking his language. it’s first nature, what he thinks in half the time and how he talks to his parents. also seeing your confused pinched face when he talks to you makes him literally swoon with a laugh.

you tell him the night before that tomorrow you should record the video and when you wake up the next day, you’re surprised with a gruff, “good mornin’” in your neck.

you know what that means so with sleep still in your eyes you mumble back, “good morning. we don’t have to start yet, i’m not recording.”

bakugou chuckles, eyes still shut with his arms wrapped around your body tightly. “if you want to do this challenge we should do it properly.”

only then do you open your eyes and since he feels your eyes on him, his peek open too.

you stare at him for a few seconds in silence like you’re trying to decipher code but coming back empty handed. then, “i have no clue what you just said.”

bakugou grins, pecking your forehead.

then throughout the whole day i am a strong believer in bakugou making it more complicated than necessary. saying long chunky sentences to see you frown or trying to guess with a finger in the air. you’re okay with conversations about food which really just means you can name common foods so you’re elated when you get to say “yes please!” when he offers to cook something.

lots of you just putting the camera down on the kitchen counter to record without interruption.

you coming back from the shower and he’s sweet while he potters around the kitchen. “hm, you look beautiful. where’s the necklace i got you?”

you always frown after he talks now, trying to pick up random words. “pretty? are you calling me pretty?” you know there’s a question somewhere from the way his tone shifted but you’ve got no clue.

“yeah,” he points at you, “you look beautiful.”

you smile like you always do after a compliment from your boyfriend, “thank you katsuki!” you even add on an honorific after his name and he rolls his eyes.

then he tugs his necklace and then points at you again, “where’s the necklace i got you? necklace?”

“necklace? necklace?” you repeat, assuming it means necklace then patting your collarbones, “oh where my necklace! i must have left it in the bathroom!”

then you’re off to go get it.

in editing you put subtitles over everything he says.

to make everything more complicated for you, he even takes you to his local asian supermarket so he’ll be able to speak japanese there.

you only end up knowing where you’re going when you recognise familiar streets.

“where are we going?”

“gonna get shit for our dinner tonight.”

“shit? that word can be used for anything!” you sigh exasperated, “dinner? we’re getting food?”

bakugou can’t keep the grin off his face, so enamoured that when he watches this video back, he doubts he’ll even be able to get a minute into it. but your accent is always off when you pronounce his words and they’re always said so sweetly compared to his rougher tone.

until a car cuts in front of him, “what the fuck? does nobody look where they’re fuckin’ goin’!?”

you nod along smiling, looking into the camera, “i recognise road rage anywhere.”

then when you’re in the shop, you’re getting served by this old lady who is chatting up a storm with your boyfriend. they’re both talking so fast and you’re a little embarrassed to hold your camera up so you’re holding it to your chest. hopefully the audio picks up.

“my husband loves you. his favourite hero at the moment! he’s going to be so excited when i tell him you’re in my store today!”

bakugou humbly nods and you always recognise how much calmer he gets in interactions like these. almost a little shy, nothing like the cocky hero you’d see on your news.

“thank you, i appreciate it. if you want me to sign anythin’ f’him i can?”

you think she knows who he is and complimented him. not much.

the old lady shakes her head, “no, he doesn’t care for that stuff.” then she looks at you, “who’s this? your girlfriend?”

you know that word because you hear bakugou say it on the phone and when he introduces you to random family members.

bakugou nods again, shrugging an arm around your waist, “yeah. she’s got no clue what we’re sayin’. she wanted to do a challenge today to see if she could understand anythin’.”

the lady chuckles while you look between them. “she’s beautiful. surprised you managed to… what’s the word young people use… date? surprised you managed to date her. in my day we’d move much faster.”

then when you leave the store, you almost forget your own challenge, “what was she saying? did she recognise you?”

bakugou raises an eyebrow. “how am i supposed to tell you?”

you understand the tone and expression, “oh yeah.”

but he tries. he points back to the shop, then at you. “she thought you were beautiful.” then points at himself then you, “thinks i’m too ugly to date you.” that’s basically what she said and he agrees. he tacks on a grin.

“ugly? this word order is messing me up.”

he does hand movements, “beautiful good. ugly bad.”

“oh ugly? she called you ugly?” you gasp and he nods with a faux sad expression.

“you’re not. you’re beautiful,” you respond, sliding back in the car.

bakugou’s satisfied with your limited vocabulary, “thank you baby.”

it only gets to nine pm and you’re begging him to talk in a language you understand. “it’s over now, i’m not recording any more. talk to me now.” you’re pleading but bakugou shakes his head.

“it hasn’t even been twenty hours.”

“i don’t know what you said but i don’t care. talk to me or i’m not gonna talk to you.”

bakugou crosses his arms across his chest pointing to the clock.

fine. if he’s gonna continue saying things you don’t understand, you won’t talk to him at all.

it doesn’t last long when he takes in how disappointed you look, almost the same as your face when he’s on facetime to you on a long trip. so close but also so far.

he kisses your head and yanks you into his arms, “you miss me baby?”

you both lay sideways on the sofa, twisting in his arms to look at you. “i did. i’ll practice some japanese for you, i promise.”

[red-daddy-riot]

yt/influencer yn who does the 24 hr language challenge w pro hero bf dynamight. I’m thinking either yn speaks in her native language for 24 hrs and vlogs the whole day bkg is trying to understand and guess but loves how diff and comforting u sound super sweet lots of giggles. ORRE bkg speaks in Japanese for 24 hrs and u have to navigate that, uk a bit of phrases and when he swears and says ily omg again so sweet. But either way it would be SOOO cute to see the other rly trying and just staring at the other for clues my heart

i love language fics and influencer youtube yn !!

bkg speaking japanese for 24 hours and you know literally bare minimum. basic phrases like hello, bye, how are you and thank you. you recognise swear words because you hear you boyfriend mumble them often. also a few compliments words because he calls you them. but an actual conversation? day to day conversation. you’re lost.

bakugou doesn’t mind taking part in this video. he loves speaking his language. it’s first nature, what he thinks in half the time and how he talks to his parents. also seeing your confused pinched face when he talks to you makes him literally swoon with a laugh.

you tell him the night before that tomorrow you should record the video and when you wake up the next day, you’re surprised with a gruff, “good mornin’” in your neck.

you know what that means so with sleep still in your eyes you mumble back, “good morning. we don’t have to start yet, i’m not recording.”

bakugou chuckles, eyes still shut with his arms wrapped around your body tightly. “if you want to do this challenge we should do it properly.”

only then do you open your eyes and since he feels your eyes on him, his peek open too.

you stare at him for a few seconds in silence like you’re trying to decipher code but coming back empty handed. then, “i have no clue what you just said.”

bakugou grins, pecking your forehead.

then throughout the whole day i am a strong believer in bakugou making it more complicated than necessary. saying long chunky sentences to see you frown or trying to guess with a finger in the air. you’re okay with conversations about food which really just means you can name common foods so you’re elated when you get to say “yes please!” when he offers to cook something.

lots of you just putting the camera down on the kitchen counter to record without interruption.

you coming back from the shower and he’s sweet while he potters around the kitchen. “hm, you look beautiful. where’s the necklace i got you?”

you always frown after he talks now, trying to pick up random words. “pretty? are you calling me pretty?” you know there’s a question somewhere from the way his tone shifted but you’ve got no clue.

“yeah,” he points at you, “you look beautiful.”

you smile like you always do after a compliment from your boyfriend, “thank you katsuki!” you even add on an honorific after his name and he rolls his eyes.

then he tugs his necklace and then points at you again, “where’s the necklace i got you? necklace?”

“necklace? necklace?” you repeat, assuming it means necklace then patting your collarbones, “oh where my necklace! i must have left it in the bathroom!”

then you’re off to go get it.

in editing you put subtitles over everything he says.

to make everything more complicated for you, he even takes you to his local asian supermarket so he’ll be able to speak japanese there.

you only end up knowing where you’re going when you recognise familiar streets.

“where are we going?”

“gonna get shit for our dinner tonight.”

“shit? that word can be used for anything!” you sigh exasperated, “dinner? we’re getting food?”

bakugou can’t keep the grin off his face, so enamoured that when he watches this video back, he doubts he’ll even be able to get a minute into it. but your accent is always off when you pronounce his words and they’re always said so sweetly compared to his rougher tone.

until a car cuts in front of him, “what the fuck? does nobody look where they’re fuckin’ goin’!?”

you nod along smiling, looking into the camera, “i recognise road rage anywhere.”

then when you’re in the shop, you’re getting served by this old lady who is chatting up a storm with your boyfriend. they’re both talking so fast and you’re a little embarrassed to hold your camera up so you’re holding it to your chest. hopefully the audio picks up.

“my husband loves you. his favourite hero at the moment! he’s going to be so excited when i tell him you’re in my store today!”

bakugou humbly nods and you always recognise how much calmer he gets in interactions like these. almost a little shy, nothing like the cocky hero you’d see on your news.

“thank you, i appreciate it. if you want me to sign anythin’ f’him i can?”

you think she knows who he is and complimented him. not much.

the old lady shakes her head, “no, he doesn’t care for that stuff.” then she looks at you, “who’s this? your girlfriend?”

you know that word because you hear bakugou say it on the phone and when he introduces you to random family members.

bakugou nods again, shrugging an arm around your waist, “yeah. she’s got no clue what we’re sayin’. she wanted to do a challenge today to see if she could understand anythin’.”

the lady chuckles while you look between them. “she’s beautiful. surprised you managed to… what’s the word young people use… date? surprised you managed to date her. in my day we’d move much faster.”

then when you leave the store, you almost forget your own challenge, “what was she saying? did she recognise you?”

bakugou raises an eyebrow. “how am i supposed to tell you?”

you understand the tone and expression, “oh yeah.”

but he tries. he points back to the shop, then at you. “she thought you were beautiful.” then points at himself then you, “thinks i’m too ugly to date you.” that’s basically what she said and he agrees. he tacks on a grin.

“ugly? this word order is messing me up.”

he does hand movements, “beautiful good. ugly bad.”

“oh ugly? she called you ugly?” you gasp and he nods with a faux sad expression.

“you’re not. you’re beautiful,” you respond, sliding back in the car.

bakugou’s satisfied with your limited vocabulary, “thank you baby.”

it only gets to nine pm and you’re begging him to talk in a language you understand. “it’s over now, i’m not recording any more. talk to me now.” you’re pleading but bakugou shakes his head.

“it hasn’t even been twenty hours.”

“i don’t know what you said but i don’t care. talk to me or i’m not gonna talk to you.”

bakugou crosses his arms across his chest pointing to the clock.

fine. if he’s gonna continue saying things you don’t understand, you won’t talk to him at all.

it doesn’t last long when he takes in how disappointed you look, almost the same as your face when he’s on facetime to you on a long trip. so close but also so far.

he kisses your head and yanks you into his arms, “you miss me baby?”

you both lay sideways on the sofa, twisting in his arms to look at you. “i did. i’ll practice some japanese for you, i promise.”

[red-daddy-riot]

If you're writing a setting that's "modern fantasy", in the sense that it's like you took one of those Medieval Fantasy worlds and then society progressed to the point where it's the 2020s, and you want to throw in a fantasy conterpart culture that's basically Europe, you're 100% allowed to just make the places a janky mashup of the medieval and modern era. That's legit just what Europe looks like. You'll see a fucking castle on one side of the street, a glass panel skyscraper in the other side, and walking in the middle is a dude who looks like a fucking viking, talking on a smartphone, with a tattoo of the stone age symbol of the Spiral Adder of the Underworld tattooed on one shoulder and Hatsune Miku on the other.

My therapist's office is located on a street that was built in the 1300s and Google Maps and a modern bicycle are fucking powerless against the cobblestone chaos that was built to be manageable on foot and horse carriage. Last summer one of the restaurants there caught fire, but the fire didn't spread very far, partially because of the building regulations that were set in place the last time the city burned in 1760. There's just a thin veneer modern tech on top of 1800s stuff clumsily constructed on top of medieval stuff that's built on the foundations of something earlier and the more you look the more you realise that if you looked at all of it for long enough, it's just turtles all the way down.

And sometimes you see a guy walking down the street that you're pretty sure is straight-up 50% neanderthal and the other half is a Danish fur trader from 1500s who found a wife in a foreign port town and stayed.

[red-daddy-riot]

you’re watching one of those old timey movies with Bakugou on the couch one night, snuggled into his side as you share a bowl of popcorn. he’s been complaining the whole time and you don’t blame him, but you can’t help but feel a little mushy as you watch the lead actor dip his wife before consuming her in a passionate kiss. you hum under your breath, grabbing another handful of popcorn as Bakugou groans dramatically beside you.

“How come you don’t dip me like that when we kiss?” you ask him, tilting your head so you can catch the way his jaw works, how his eyebrows screw down a little as he glances at you from the corner of his eye.

“‘Cause it’s fuckin’ corny.” He grunts, pinching your side a little when you huff under your breath. you don’t say anything else about it for the rest of the night, but Bakugou noticed how quiet you got, your deflated look momentarily before changing the subject to make fun of another bad part of the movie.

it’s been days, and you’ve honestly forgotten about the whole situation, which is why it surprises you at Bakugou’s sudden urgency when he stomps into your shared home. before you can even greet him, you take him in as he comes damn near charging at you. he’s covered in dirt and soot and grime, still wears his work boots that track footprints on your pretty floors, his mask pushed up messily into his hair as he comes at you with his hands out.

you squeak in surprise when he grabs you up, your whole world flipping, stomach dropping when you’re suddenly hovering inches above the ground. his face is close to yours, eyebrows drawn down, and you giggle in shock as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Katsuki, what the fuck are you doing?” you laugh, clinging onto him for dear life as he holds you there, staring down at you with this soft pout and even softer eyes. they search your face for a second before he grunts, ducking down to plant his mouth against yours.

“Shaddup and enjoy the romantic moment, dumbass,” he mutters, before fully pressing his lips to yours. it’s hard to kiss back when you’re smiling so hard, giggling against him as you kiss and kiss and kiss him until you feel his own grin and teeth clash against yours.

dramatically, Bakugou brings you back upright, fixing your clothes and pinching at your lips when he sees you about to talk again. you only smile as big as you can, murmuring, such a sap, as much as you can. he only huffs under his breath, kissing at your pinched lips before turning on his heel to take off his boots finally.

“My little romantic,” you coo at him as you follow him like a lovesick puppy. Bakugou only toes his shoes off with a cute frown at you, mumbling,

“Not a damn word about this, you sap.”

[red-daddy-riot]

[red-daddy-riot]

bakugo x kirishima’s older sister

[red-daddy-riot]

(◡‿◡✿)

(ʘ‿ʘ✿) “what you say ‘bout me”

(ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿ “hold my flower”

[red-daddy-riot]

Long live the king

help

[red-daddy-riot]

thinking barber!katsuki (?)

you take your little brother to the big boy salon for the first time, having been there multiple times yourself since your youth to watch your father get his hair cut. walking in, it’s all old, familiar faces.

what you don’t take into account is the new head of blond hair that’s taken up a spot in the midst of it all, looking as if he’s just finished up with a customer.

“bakugou’ll take you. here, i’ll call him over.” your father’s usual barber, and owner of the shop, calls the scowling man over. the blond’s biceps flex under his white button-up, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the subtle veins in his forearm. intimidating.

“he’s new but the kid’s plenty good,” the owner looks to your brother. “he don’t bite, but if he does, just spritz him.” the blond’s scowl that was already embedded before has now made a permanent home at the older man’s words but takes your brother nonetheless.

your hand still hovers over your mouth in shock as you watch the two walk away, bringing snickers out of the older man next to you. “don’t worry, hun. he may look like a hooligan but he’s nice—and not just for customers.”

you turn to the owner in question, quirking your head. in an almost comedic manner, the owner discreetly whispers to you behind the back of his hand. “and he’s single too.”

a wink and a cheeky smile makes you scoff with heat crawling up your neck, looking away to focus on your brother. though once you’re able to fully take the sight in, it’s almost as if your brother had never been nervous in the first place. chatting his ear off, you brother talks animatedly to the blond—bakugou. bakugou’s scowl has been replaced with a gentle smile, one that seems reserved and thoughtfully shown. he nods along to your brother’s words, patiently taking them in before dishing out an appropriate response.

it’s as bakugou is readying his tools, that his eyes meet yours. it’s quick and sudden before you break away from him, thumbs twiddling in nerves. maybe it was just you, but despite the briefness of it, you felt a sparking connection—

“oh you want my sibling’s number? yeah, they’re single, so you should definitely shoot your shot.”

your brother really couldn’t have said it louder. over your silent embarrassment, you can’t help but suppress your laughter, all the while the owner full on howls at your brother, slapping bakugou on the back and shooting him a promising look.

[red-daddy-riot]

i think there’s only a few men who would be capable of dropping me into subspace & one of them is kirishima eijirou

[red-daddy-riot]

~~Delightfully inspired by being at home~~

Bakugou Katsuki is an only child. No siblings - because one gremlin spawn is enough to take care of. All of Katsuki’s cousins are older than him. Katsuki IS the baby of the family. . . Which is why when he meet you, and then proceeded to meet your family, he was in a total culture shock. You’re one of the oldest kids in your family. When the two of you arrived to your families summertime reunion he was absolutely flabbergasted. Once you stepped into the house you were gone in a flash!

I mean he expected as much since you lived so far away now and had such a good working relationship with your family. But he didn’t expect for you to DISAPPEAR ON HIM.

To be swallowed by a hoarde of similiar-faced relatives all shouting about how you’ve been!! the L/N genes were strong apparently . . . you really all do look alike, huh.

Bakugou had barely stepped into the house, your luggage’s still in hand, before becoming an obstacle for children. One of your little cousins actually barrelling into his muscular thigh with a little “oof” and “sorry mister! hey! wait for me!”

Before bounding out the wide open front door to chase their playmates back around to the backyard, and then through the entire house again . . . as children are often prone to do. Now, Bakugou tried to find you amoungst the little gaggle of children and sometimes teenagers that blew around his ankles, as they giggled and shouted and whooped as they weaved their way around him. at least let him find you, or one of your parents or siblings, so they can tell him which room you’d be staying in. he’d meet them on several occasions before and secretly reveled in watching watching you and your siblings engage throughout the few visits and events he’s been invited on. All these other people and rambunctious kids he wasn’t all too sure about . . . ——————

now Y/N was having the time of her life relaxing and catching up with her family

Her boyfriend, Katsuki, was not finding this relaxing. Bakugou Katsuki felt totally out of his element: a fish out of water. Or rather, an explosive man in water. ———— his ruby eyes would snap open most mornings, at some inhumane hour from some early bird kids stomping around and giggling in hushed tones (not so hushed in his opinion) as they moved down the hallway and past your door. And Bakugou would squint his eyes into the blackness; the void. And stare at where the door was supposed to be until they passed and burrowed his face back against your perfectly sloped shoulder and slept until some kid was send by the older folks to slam open the door and wake you up. Bakugou absolutely couldn’t fathom this part of the routine. He absolutely hated it.

You however only ever seemed a touch miffled. And always informed the tiny correspondent with a playful pat on the head that you and him were now awake and would join the rest of them downstairs. . . . but eventually the little cousins would soon come running around the side of the bed to make sure he was awake too. . . and Bakugou couldn’t help but turn, pick the kid up, and playfully wrestle the flailing and giggling kid on the bed into submission, and they revealed the menu for breakfast. And they would giggle and dart out of the room so fast saying, “Y/N’s awake! And her boyfriends Bakugou’s awake! He wants extra eggs!” And it definitely wasn’t his idea of relaxing playing UNO with about 10 players every other evening. And constantly hearing you and the older kids and adults all explaining what color card the youngest one needs to put down. Or GO-FISH for that matter!

Since apparently that silly game of chance seems to be the only one every age group can play without explaining the rules. What’s the point of a game of guessing who’s got what card? Especially when he never even gets close to winning. (Yes, he was terrible at it.)

Your family even plays for second to last place, and lo and behold he’s somehow duking it out with a 9 yr old now. And Katsuki Bakugou definitely doesn’t enjoy participating in the family water balloon fights, or watching and dodging the stray streams from squirt guns fights as he stands at the grill with all the other men, or chasing down the muddy dog in the house, or the epic made-believe quests. And you definitely believe him when you pass him walking through the house on morning after finishing the dishes in company with a fairy princess, pirate, and a mermaid “but-she’s-got-legs-right-now-cause-she’s-on-land.” as he walks about wearing an eye-patch on his face and a tutu around his arm

And he’s no longer “not in his element” by the end of the trip when he takes his turn to make breakfast for the whole family. Going upstairs himself to wake up the little ones and the grumbling teens. Making sure to let you sleep in and it’s a pleasant surprise when you make your way downstairs a little later to see him manning the kitchen. everybody sat down or standing around as they chow down. And you get greeted with a swift kiss to your temple and grumbled “g’morning.” your mom chirping up, “Katsuki’s made your favorite sweetpea!” ——— And you’re pleasantly surprised once again as Bakugou joins you in on the last day of your visit. Finally stepping foot into the mattress/sleeping bag kingdom that’s set up in your house. He comes in to find you sitting at the front of the room waving your hands across the air as you engage in the last saga of this thrilling interactive bedtime story you’ve been narrating the whole trip. And Bakugou walks in and tosses all the fallen blankets back over peoples beds. Shuffling himself underneath a blanket he’s just rescued and making himself comfortable as he squeezes in next to the teens. And it’s at some part in your story that he furrows his brow and opens his mouth muttering something to the two adolescents squished beside him. His arms crossed across his chest as a dinosaur stuffed animal rests, precariously balanced, on his broad shoulders because, “you need a stuffie for Y/Ns storytime” and the three of them wave their hands and signal for you to pause and Bakugou grumbles out “- hold on babe, who is this dragon prince character anyway?” And all the kids erupt in laughter shouting, “YOU, YOU SILLY BOYFRIEND.” and his mouth is agape. And you simply shrug, “well duh ‘tsuki. who else? Now where we’re we? Right so then the Dragon Prince, the Swordsman, and the Dashing Runaway Prince of the Kingdom decided that they . . .”