Ch. 2 Bakugo As A Barista Would Be A Funny Thought
Bakugo x You!FemReader
You met Pro Hero Dynamight at the bar and ended up having sex in his car. Where is this gonna lead to? Previous
Content: Fluff. Breakfast. WC: 3.3k
MHA Masterlist
"... don't go to sleep.."
Your soft slurred and barely audible whisper made Bakugo's breath hitch. It was such a small request, but it hit him like an anchor. Your body on him is completely deadweight and molded against his chest like he's your big pillow. He knows you're falling asleep and loosely keeps his arms wrapped around you. Bakugo listens to your slow and even breathing. Normally, he'd be drunken falling asleep too without a care but not this time. Your voice kept him awake.
Bakugo shifts slightly to get more comfortable and hold you properly without sliding off. He doesn't say anything back out of not wanting to accidentally be too loud and ruin this fragile moment. He presses a light kiss into your hair and then rests his chin on your head. He keeps his eyes open watching the dark interior of the car, keeping guard over this quiet peace.
In and out of consciousness from not wanting to fully fall asleep you try to stay awake and cling to his body heat. Bakugo felt it. That subtle jerk like you caught yourself drifting off. He holds you tighter. He closes his eyes. 'Just for a moment' he tells himself. 'No sleeping yet.'
Who knows how much time has gone by. 30 minutes? An hr? A few? Who seriously fucking knows. It all blurred the moment you both curled together.
"You still with me?" You murmur sleepily thick with exhaustion.
It reached him like an echo. Without opening his eyes fully he slowly brushes your hair back from your forehead and presses another quiet kiss there.
"Yeah," he answers low and roughly. "I'm here."
Your eyes open just barely a fraction before they close again. "I'm here too."
Even though the car is warm from body heat the night air outside has dropped as the early morning chill seeps through slightly. You shiver, nuzzling and cling to him more.
Bakugo rwacts to it immediately. He shifts again, reaching over without disturbing your peach to grab his jacket from the front seat. It's heavy with thermal lining and drapes it carefully over your shoulders like a blanket then pulls your closer. His arms tighten around you as he tucks your head under his chin. The safest spot on him right now then presses another kiss into your hair.
"Thank you.." You whisper feeling a warmness fills you on the inside from his gesture. It felt special and exclusive.
The sky above the two of you shifts into a deep indigo that melts into pale blue, indicating it'll be sunrise soon. He watches your face in the dim glow filtering through the tinted windows instead of replying right away. No words are needed in this sacred stillness that's rare.
The soft hum of the waking city creeps in- distant car engines starting, early trucks rolling through the streets, occassional early joggers and other pedestrians passing by. The quiet night has officially given way to dawn. You gently rub your thumbs against his side in unconscious motions before finally lifting your head up.
Bakugo studies you for a second. No smirk or scowl present. Just the same quiet intensity from before.
"Hi.." You softly whisper looking down at him.
He feels something weird flutter behind his ribs, something he would never admit to out loud if ever asked. His brows soften slightly and lips part like he wants to smile again but isn't sure how big it should be. He cups your cheek and leans up to kiss you. It's soft and tender. More intimate in its own way. Nothing like the drunk passion or frantic need from earlier.
The city keeps waking around the two of you while time stood still there.
"Should get going before we're caught."
Bakugo exhales slowly through his nose. He's reluctant but not not surprised by your words. You're right. He knows his car will catch the attention of curious and knowing eyes. He gives one last soft kiss to your lips before pulling back fully and nods. He sits up properly, running a hand through his messy hair (still damp from sweat earlier), and then reaches for the keys.
With the jacket draped over your shoulders still you sit up too you, sliding your arms through the sleeves then search the floor for yor boots. You have no clue or memory when those came off. You grab them and climb over to the front seat.
From the driver seat Bakugo watches you from the corner of his eye, still a little dazed but functional now. He sees how the jacket swallows your frame and doesn't say anything, but likes seeing it on you.
Bakugo starts up the car. The engine purrs to life smoothly and radio clicks on automatically- some rock station. He doesn't change it and lets the music fill the car while you buckle up.
The sun is still low, painting streaks of pale orange over buildings in the distance. He takes note that you don't ask where he's taking you, jusy buckled up in his jacket like you belong there. Maybe this isn't over. Maybe this can stretch a little longer. Bakugo pulls away from the parking spot and starts driving.
The car glides smoothly through the streets- no sharp turns or reckless speeding. Most people don't expect him to be such a good driver for being so explosive on everything else. Behind the wheel he's precise, calm, and almost meditative. The song on the radio changes to a more softer mellow rock ballad in comparison to the heavier riffs before. He catches your glance and glances back with a quick sideways look to see if you're okay.
"This band actually isn't half bad. They're old but have talent."
You put your hand on the volume knob and turn it up a notch with a smile looking forward again. You're not actually interested in the music at all right now, just trying to find something to say after getting caught.
“Yeah… they’re decent," he nods at your comment while keeping his eyes on the road.
You side glance him again. "Yeah? Didn't take you as a fan."(Especially since it's an older band from the 90's or early 2000's.)
The corner of his mouth twitches almost like a smirk.
“What,” he says flatly, “you think I only listen to attitude anthems and something aggressively loud like deathcore?”
There's dry humor in it. Sure, he doesn't blast those types of genres all day or deathcore specifically, but he does like music with energy. And this band? They've got that- the kind of songs that build up slow before a guitar solo or breakdown.
"Maybe I did," you giggle at him taking in the information as if its important to remember later on.
A small, coazy cafe'with a retro sign that read "Sunrise Brew" comes into view and Bakugo pulls in the parking lot. It's nothing fancy and just one of those places that's perfect for a quick breakfast or some coffee. Bakugo shuts off the engine and your curiosity is piqued wondering what this is about. He gives you a look of 'were here' then unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door. The cold morning air rushes in just for a second before he steps out. He stretches after the drive then walks around to your side of the car and opens the door.
You follow pursuit and he nods towards the cafe' once you're out. "Are we getting breakfast?"
You follow behind him with your hands in the pockets of his jacket. Your heels quietly click on the pavement and you become aware of your appearance. No way in hell you look ready for breakfast and more like you just came from a bar. And technically, you did. He doesn't turn around and really didn't actually plan this far ahead. Just can't exactly go home yet and pretend nothing happened after that kind of night.
"Yeah. You look like shit." He holds the door open for you.
You blush slightly out of embarrassment. "You're one to talk."
Honestly, it sounded amazing right now with nothing in your stomach. He smirks at your comeback. Okay, fair. He's no picture-picture either with his messy hair and dark circles under his eyes that say 'I didnt sleep much last night' but he doesn't care about looks right now. He follow behind you.
The cafe has a cozy feel to it once you step inside with its wooden floors, mismatched lounge chairs with cushions, and the fresh smell of coffee brewing. A few early customers sit scattered around- some on laptops and some as tired as you two are.
You go up to the counter and Bakugo steps up right beside you. He doesn't let you linger behind like an afterthought and angles himself to where he's not a step ahead or ignoring your presence. The barista greets you both with a cheerful smile.
"Morning! What can I get started for you two?"
Before you could open your mouth Bakugo speaks first firm and direct.
"Large cinnamon dolce latte. No whip cream," he pauses. "And a bacon, sausage, and egg wrap."
You chime in when he finishes. "_ (your coffee preferance) and a _ (your breakfast choice) please."
The barista nod putting in both of your orders into the machine with a smile. He side glances you in the silence almost approvingly for your choices.
You reach into your purse to pay your half since this isn't a planned date or anything and Bakugo saw that. As quickly with no hesitation he pulls out his wallet and hands her the cash before you could even get your wallet out. He doesn't look at the stunned look on your face while he does it. Just focused on paying. It's some romantic gesture, just a simple 'I got this.'
The barista takes it smoothly and begins making change. After the exchange is when he finally glances at you with a look that says 'Don't argue about it.'
He gives you a tiny nod like paying was the most normal thing in the world. He leaves a tip in the jar as the barista steps away from the counter to prepare their drinks and shoves his wallet back into his pocket.
While you wait the upbeat yet melody pop song over the speakers plays softly to fill the quiet. You glance around taking in details like anyone would- the ceramic mugs on shelves, the daily special on the menu, the plant in the windowsill getting morning light. Bakugo doesn't stare at anything specific, just stands there beside you relaxed but alert. The silence is comfortable. The rest of the cafe' hums with low activity.
The barista calls out each item as she places it on the counter. Bakugo grabs his order immediately and waits for you before finding a table.
"Thanks," you say to the barista then take your first sip as you follow behind him.
That first initial taste hitting your taste buds made them sing. It's perfectly blended just the way you like. He saw that small satisfaction in your expression but keeps it to himself. He picks a corner table by the window. You sit across from him. There's no rush. He takes a slow sip as you pull out your breakfast from its packaging with your stomach growling.
"So.. another place you come often?" You ask bringing it up to your face and take a bite.
He's chewing on his own burrito slowly and swallows before answering. "Once in a while when I'm near this district."
You nod in acknowledgement. "It's small and cozy. Almost makes me think of the coffee shop I wok at."
You take another sip of your coffee and Bakugo's eyes flicker with interest, just slightly. Guess it makes sense then how naturally ordered and knew the menu without hesitating like most girls typically would.
"Oh," he says simply then takes another bite before adding: "What's yours like?"
You pause for a moment thinking how to describe it. "It's like this pretty much. I mean the decor is a bit different of course and typically more packed on Sunday mornings than this.. but pretty much like this.."
Bakugo listens and takes mental notes of your gestures and the softness in your voice. It's not some high-energy hero hangout, just.. cozy. Normal people stuff. And weirdly it doesn't bore him at all.
"Sounds nice," he says genuinely meaning that.
"Sounds nice? Have you seen how customized some orders are." You force a laugh, trying to make humor out of the real life drama of being a barista then take another sip. "Some people will act like their day is completely ruined if you get their order wrong when it's not you're fault they want their coffee so customized. If I get one more secret menu order I think I'll be the one blowing a fuse."
He snorts. Actually snorts. Not a full laugh- but close enough for Bakugo standards.
“Seriously?” he mutters, raising an eyebrow. “People lose it over that?”
He gets it now. The frustration at vustomers who expect perfection every damn drink. Suddeny your job sounds more stressful than his sometimes and that's saying something.
"Yes, it's a completely different kind of warzone and just different than hero work."
“Damn. That’s brutal," he says almost respectfully with this new perspective.
For someone who fights literal criminals everyday that level of stress over drinks is wild to him, but also kind of impressive that you handle it without losing your cool completely. He takes another bite of his burrito.
"It is. But I gotta say, atleast the tips are nice," you chuckle then taking a bite.
He grunts in understanding. Money is money- no shame in it. Must be worth it to deal with such customers everyday.
You smile at him with a wink. "Baristas don't kiss and tell."
You know you probably said that metaphor completely wrong but oh well, that's how it rolled off your tongue. One of the unspoken rules in life is never brag about such things. Always best to keep that part to yourself. You take another sip of coffee.
Bakugo is mildly amused you said it like that. He knows what you meant and found it slightly respectable again to not flex, stay humble and mysterious. He nods instead of pushing further and drinks his coffee.
You chime in again after a beat of silence. "What I'm curious about though that caught my attention is seeing you as a barista for a day."
The question hit him like a surprise attack- unexpected and random. "A barista.. for a day?"
He blinks and then scrunches his nose in confusion. The idea of him who doesnt do soft behind a coffee counter with a scowl and making someone's drink wrong on purpose is completely alien. But you're not fully joking. It almost wants to make him laugh but he keeps his face neutral.
You giggle going with it still. "Yeah, totally. It's just a funny thought. You yelling at someone behind the counter."
The image flashes in his head cystal clear now: Him wearing the stupid black apron behind the counter with a coffee machine he doesn't know how to operate and a customer demanding a venti vanilla bean latte with oat milk, half foam, cinnamon dust on top. Him losing his shit and yelling: "WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!" Not so literal explosion involved, maybe. It's so ridiculous and yet a short huff escapes him.
"I'd last five minutes," he deadpans.
"Yeah, probably." You laugh louder not meaning to. It just sort of came out.
It echoes in the quiet cafe' and was nice to him. It was like hearing something bright after a long day of hero work or drills. He doesn't hear people laugh like this around him often. After a moment you calm your laughter, bringing the pad of your palm up to your eye as if to wipe a tear away.
"I'm sorry. The random thought was just entertaining."
Watching your theatrics caused a tightness in his chest. Most reactions from people are fear, respect, or annoyance. This is different. Cute even, but he'd never say that out loud.
“S’whatever,” he mutters with no edge in it, disguising softness with indifference then takes another sip.
You nod pressing your lips together and lower your eyes. "Umm.. can I entertain you one more time?" I look up again to see his reaction.
Bakugo lowers his coffee slowly. "Entertain me?" he repeats curiously with a flat tone.
He locks his eyes onto yours. There's quiet alertness in him now waiting to see what's coming. Whatever silly (or serious) thing you're about to say next.
"Y/N," you say directly then pause. "My name. Since i haven't told you yet."
The silence that follows was thick but not awkward or heavy. Bakugo froze for a moment because this moment now feels different. Like you just handed him something real and personal without expecting another in return.
"Y/N," he repeats slowly and quietly, testing the name on his tongue like it's unfamiliar territory. Its suits you. And now he knows it. Not 'hey you' or 'that girl from the bar' but Y/N. After a beat without missing another second:
You hold back the giggle. Of course, you already know his name. Everybody does. You smile. "Nice to officially meet you."
“Yeah,” he says back almost shyly. This is you meeting him. Not Dynamight. Just Katsuki. “Nice to meet you too.”
In your own little personal bubble at this table the cafe' stays quiet with the soft music. Bakugo takes one more sip then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pen and scribbles something quickly on a napkin. You watch curiously. Whatever it is he folds it neatly once and slides it across the table towards you.
You reach your hand out to grab it. "What's this?"
When you unfold it you find neat handwriting with his number on it and "Call" written underneath. No doodles or any other kind of nonsense bullshit. Just that invitation hanging there like an open door. You quietly gasp to yourself with eyes widening slightly. He stares at the table instead of looking st you. This isn't something Dynamight does often after one night and breakfast.
You don't say 'yes' or 'no' and keep the suspension in the air. With a smile you fold it back up neatly and intentionally stick it down your shirt and tuck it away in your bra. Somewhere more intimate and personal than somewhere classy like your wallet.
His eyes flicker down for a split second seeing that.The implication hit him like a pulse.
"Let me see your hand," you finally respond.
His breath hitches and then without hesitation he lifts one hand off the table and offers it to you with his palm up, trusting you. His eyes are locked on you curiously waiting to see what you're about to do with it.
You smile looking into his eyes then lower them down to his hand and gently take ahold of it. You then grab the pen from the table and write your own note back then close his hand into a gentle fist. Holding it still you lean in and kiss his cheek.
"I had a good time," you murmur against his skin before pulling away, grabbing your bag, and take your leave with his jacket on still and not saying another word.
Bakugo is left there frozen from the overwhelmed. No one kisses him like that and just leaves. It wasn't until you gave him one more glance over your shoulder with a smile and the cafe' door closing behind you he finally looks down and slowly uncurls his fingers to read what you wrote. In small handwriting that's distinctly yours:
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