you know that trope where it’s princess + knight, but they’ve both been captured by the bad guys and the princess is now gripped by the jaw by the villain, receiving a thin cut to her cheek while remaining completely still with a defiant look in her eyes even as a droplet of blood begins to trickle out of the wound, all while 3 people AT THE VERY LEAST need to have their hands locked on the knight because he’s thrashing around like a wild animal, trying so so so desperately, violently, to get to her?
okay you sent this during my gym phase, i was literally on the way to the gym and in my gym class i kept getting distracted thinking about this…..
i’m gonna give a bunch on random thoughts. IM THINKING gym instructor bakugou who has expensive ass rates because EVERYONE sees results with him. also he’s FINE AS HELL so people want to work with him, just his face and thighs are extra motivation. he’s got his business card and his go to phrase is something like “if you want someone who says it how it is.” “short term pain for long term results.”
and his emails are full with people who wanna work with him. saying how they wanna get an ass, wanna get their dream body, wanna get stronger. a few hookup messages… he gets so many offers he picks and chooses who he wants to work with and defo says no to a few people after the first session. women that are clearly there to flirt and not work out. men who don’t have their heart in it.
i like to imagine you only started going to the gym because it’s a company perk. free membership with your work so you end up going and SINCE it’s free, you could maybe pay for a gym instructor. scanning the wall with the faces of all instructors and bakugou’s got his gorgeous little profile picture of him frowning with his arms crossed, it’s his tag line that get you. “tough love.” you need that. sure you like a little bit of yoga maybe some walking or jogging. but you’re not about to push yourself on your own.
so your email to bakugou is short and sweet. something about needing real life motivation and help on technique. also you want to get stronger. then lastly you wouldn’t mind building your ass.
bakugou likes the honesty, reads the email with an upside down lipped impressed look.
(also it’s a big thing where i live anyway that men don’t trust women with personal trainers because they’re known to have affairs with them??) anyway bakugou is sooo professional, hence the cutting it off when there’s a hint of flirtation.
but meeting you in your big tshirt, trainers and leggings. hand out to shake his hand. ooooweeeee. he’s already thinking about what he’s going to say in the email that he won’t be continuing with you any longer because this time he’s attracted to you. he’s not working with a hard on while you do some basic squats or listening to you groan when he forces you to lift a heavy weight.
you find him attractive too. the picture is nothing on him irl. the frown imprinted on his features. his arms crossed with these bulging biceps and thick veins on his forearms. he’s tall, over six foot and in a tight black tee and black shorts. black socks and black trainers. even his hair is pretty, blonde and fluffy, thick dark eyelashes. you think about how he’d hug you… not that he would. maybe how he’d touch your back when putting you in place… in the gym!
anyway you basically recite your email to him. you mention how you wanna get stronger, feel better physically in your body, he nods, tells you in a deep growl that he can do that. then you mention how you don’t mind having a fatter ass, a thing he’s heard before, bare in mind, but he bites down on his bottom lip. your pretty little face, chatting, swinging your water bottle by your side. he wants to flick his eyes down to your ass. see what he’s working with here. luckily your tshirt is big enough that he can’t see it.
but he does say, “it’s better if you wear tighter clothes. then we can see what muscles you’re workin and any gains….,” then he frowns to himself, he’d say this to a guy right… he would!! “if you’re comfortable.”
and you’re smiling up at him, excited, funny that you’re not going to be so excited a few weeks in bakugou’s little boot camp.
“yes sure!”
“then i can make anythin’ happen.”
you mention how you don’t want to get shouted at. he adapts to make his language FIRM!!! still swears though. “you have somewhere to be after? go slower! feel the burn in your calves.”
“three more!” “you said ten!” “and i know you can do three more reps. now.”
- quick fire. bakugou shares no personal information about himself. you defo ask him a few questions. if he grew up around here, if he lives far, what got him into training people. and you either get one word or “stop fuckin’ around. you’re not gonna get a fat ass askin’ about my childhood.”
that makes you pout.
he’s lowkey a little nicer to you than his other clients but still harsh LOL making you do pull ups on one of the machines and you can’t move because the weight is too heavy.
“cmon. pull.”
and the thing about working with an attractive man (especially in the early days) is you don’t want to look ugly in front of him. something you have to get over quickly. causes him to slip up sometimes too.
“i can’t! it’s too heavy!”
“you lifted less than this yesterday. you can pull it up. go on.”
you know your face is gonna scrunch up, evil frown, sweaty forehead, scrunch of your nose, maybe a squeak.
“fuck.” from you, makes bakugou have to blink twice. standing next to the machine and you on it with his arms folded.
“the quicker you do it, the quicker we both can go the fuck home.” he learns very quickly with you that he can’t say anything about himself because now you’re distracted. looking over him.
“what’s your plans after?”
he rolls his eyes, “grab the fuckin bar and pull. wastin both of our time.”
then you start trying.
- few weeks in, you guys get to texting. mostly just you saying whether you’re running late due to traffic. once you sent him a video of you working out at home, asking him to correct you on your form. another time you sent him a before and after photos. has bakugou staring at this whatsapp message for a while. fuck…. not professional. he’s got friends that’s got with clients, he never has though. he knows you would with him, he’s seen the way you’re curious and how you look at him through the mirror when you think he’s not looking.
short grammatically correct texts is all he does.
- he gives you a meal plan and he HATES how his body gets softer when you start whining that he’s cut out all your favourite foods.
loves when you’re a little stubborn and standing your ground. “i’m sorry but i need some joy in my life. i’d be happier eating what i want and seeing no physical changes.”
bakugou raises his eyebrows at you. usually he’d cuss a little, say what’s the point of hiring him if you’re not willing to change. you’re not gonna be better than your yesterday if your future is the same. he’s got all his quotes stored.
instead he kisses his teeth. tuts under his breath. he could put more fruit in, add in protein powder. less kale. okay a chicken nugget caesar salad isn’t too bad.
“you’re too fuckin’ picky. i’ll see what i can do.”
also cute that when he does start crushing on you properly, he brings you these colourful electrolyte drinks to try. says he got a load at this convention he went to, which is true but he’s not giving any of his other clients a bottle. continues to buy you your favourite flavour even afterwards before every session.
- him putting you in position but hovers his hand over your body. never touches you. has you mention one time “you can touch me. just put me into place.” has you going home thinking about his hands on your body. how big his palm was on the back of your thigh. the heat of his chest against yours. wants you to practice your balance and he’s got a hand on your thigh and your arm. wants you to stretch your pelvic muscles because you’re complaining you feel too much tension in your legs.
has you on your knees, face down, arms out, legs spread and ass up.
regrets it as soon as he puts you in the position. “ohhhh,” a satsified burn, “this feels good.”
since your eyes are closed he does gaze at your ass. to this day he doesn’t understand how you were saying you want it bigger when it’s already a lovely size. it’s not about him though. he can also see your pussy lips from this angle and he’s grateful he’s got his tight compression shorts on under his shorts.
“yeah, yeah. we get it.”
he knows you’d sound like this during sex. fuck, even louder if he was in bed with you.
- you bother him asking if he uses steroids. ragebaiting. he gives in every time.
“shut the hell up. you think i look like this from ‘roids?” jabs his thumb in the centre of his chest.
then you stay giggling.
- you knowing he talks his partners through it in bed. has you on the bench lifting weights, something you were intimidated by because that area is concentrated with MEN. feels better walking into that area behind him.
“gonna start light and go up from there. 12 reps. 30 second break. 3 sets.”
“that sounds like a lot katsuki.”
“don’t be a baby.”
and he’s behind you the entire time, hands under the bar even though you don’t need it.
“two more. push through it. imagine how you’ll feel after.”
“slower… another. fuckin’ lift it. cmon now.”
and it’s always you sweaty and tired smiling up at him. “wow that’s my pb!!!!
gets bakugou like JELLY.
- ends up saying all iterations of “good girl.” “you’re a star.” “attagirl.” when you do a clean set of reps he says “gorgeous.” and you feel your panties soak.
- also you start ditching the baggy t-shirts and start getting matching co ord gym sets. pink ones, cream ones, black ones, blue ones, any colour under the sun. all your favourites. bakugou’s favourite colour is changing daily. you see him checking you out for the first minute of every session. you appear out of the fitting room or you rush into the building with your laptop still in your bag and he’s looking at you up and down. he loves them. they’re tight and lift everything. has him pointing at your tight arm cardigan things like “what’s the point of that?” you shrug, “it’s cute.” and you do… you look so cute.
- defo you asking for an example and he’s laying back on the bench to show you how to lift a weight. he shows you using the bar, “it’s gotta go down to the top of your chest, then you bounce it off. easy shit.” the weight isn’t heavy for him but you’re still staring at his biceps in his tight vest. he only wears black white and navy. “how much can you lift?” and he sits up. “it’s not about me. how much can you lift?” and you frown, “you can tell me that! gives me something to aim for!” and you nudge his shoulder playfully. he likes you a lot. he’s also so stupidly pretty laying back on the bench and he’s blushing now because he’s looking up at you hovering over him. “like 200kg?” he knows exactly how much he can weigh. you’re gasping, nobody around you is lifting that much. “can i see? please?”
and he does show you, even though it’s cutting into your workout time. at the end of the day, he’s not against showing off around you.“you just wanna get out of liftin’. i’m doing one rep and it’s your turn.” “yeah whatever.”
you watch as he piles weight after weight on the bar. the he lays back and lifts. it’s arouses you to the point you’re lightheaded. his groans, his frown. the muscles that bulge in his arms and thighs. the vein in his neck and forehead. he lifts the bar with slight ease, once it’s up, he’s got it moving up and down with quick precise movements.
“oh wow… you’re so strong, katsuki.”
he cannot pay attention for shit. especially because you’re all he sees when he looks up. he does one less rep than he said.
“hey you didn’t do you last one! better than yesterday you or something!”
he drops it in the placeholder, sits up on the bench slouched. “it’s not my gym session, it’s yours. get your ass on the bench.”
just big and fine.
- you text him complaining that your body aches and if he’s got any recommendations to help. he says his friend has a membership at a gym that’s got a sauna so he takes you there. lowkey feels like a date.
he gets to see you all relaxed and sweaty with just a towel on and you see him shiny and golden and bare chested. this idea could be a whole fic so i’m holding off for now.
- he’s got you doing a whole session with the purpose to grow your glutes and ass and the whole time you’re grumbling. “i could just get a bbl. this is hard.” it’s a joke! but he sighs, “one more rep ‘cause of that stupid comment.”
- when his crush is too big to contain, one time you’re saying how you’re starving hungry and he says there’s a good ramen place nearby. says you should go. you take that to assume you solo. so when you come out of the changing room either your bag and jacket, he’s still standing there, phone in hand.
“did you forget something?”
“we’re gettin’ food? aren’t we?”
your smile fills your whole face, “oh! yes! yes we are.”
sero's smile is lopsided, nearly sliding off of his face the eay he nearly slides off the booth when he turns to you. the izakaya is loud and the air tastes of cigarettes and stale beer, but the food is good and the drinks are cold. It's been your spot for your friend dates (freights) for years; this seat's cushion is probably permanently shaped like your ass.
"Hey." Sero leans towards you, hand bumping into your thigh. "Can I eat you out?"
You blink. Then, blink again. "What?"
There's no shame in his glossed over eyes. "Can I lick your pussy? My mouth is, like, craving it so bad."
That makes you scoff.
"You're drunk."
"Uh, duh. That's the best time to eat it." Sero's eyes travel down to the high hem of your skirt. "I can get all sloppy and weird with it."
"I'm all sweaty-" You aren't sure why you're even entertaining this, but that makes Sero hunch over the table and groan.
I love the concept of someone teaching you how to fuck. how to kiss, what it feels like to have someone else’s hands on you, someone else’s tongue. all under the guise of them being helpful, sweet to you, so you’re not nervous for when it ‘really’ happens. only for them to make sure they’re the only ones who ever get to see you that way
sero's smile is lopsided, nearly sliding off of his face the eay he nearly slides off the booth when he turns to you. the izakaya is loud and the air tastes of cigarettes and stale beer, but the food is good and the drinks are cold. It's been your spot for your friend dates (freights) for years; this seat's cushion is probably permanently shaped like your ass.
"Hey." Sero leans towards you, hand bumping into your thigh. "Can I eat you out?"
You blink. Then, blink again. "What?"
There's no shame in his glossed over eyes. "Can I lick your pussy? My mouth is, like, craving it so bad."
That makes you scoff.
"You're drunk."
"Uh, duh. That's the best time to eat it." Sero's eyes travel down to the high hem of your skirt. "I can get all sloppy and weird with it."
"I'm all sweaty-" You aren't sure why you're even entertaining this, but that makes Sero hunch over the table and groan.
literally what would we do without gif makers thank you gif makers THANK YOU GIFMAKERS i love nothing more than to watch a tiny moment of a scene loop over and over and over the world is so beautiful
🏁 pit stop ! 𖦹 surprisingly, katsuki bakugou is pretty good with kids. they like the colours of costume and the funny faces he makes when he’s mad. what’s even more surprising, is the single mother he falls for and the little girl that quickly becomes his whole world. (8.3K)
🏁 safety car ! ⋆ safe for work ⋆ fluff ⋆ eighteen plus only. pro hero au, characters are depicted as adults. strangers to lovers, single parents, found family, mentions of drinking, child getting lost in large crowd, reader has a named daughter, katsuki referred to as dad. pro hero katsuki bakugou, single mum & fem reader.
🏁 team radio ! ⋆ happy birthday to everyone’s favourite explosive boy. i’m so happy i managed to get something out for him this year, even if it’s pure fluff, love you sm sm kacchan!! hope you all enjoy and click for more.
whether he liked it or not, tiny and little humans had some kind of affiliation for him — neither deterred or discouraged by the hero’s hardened exterior and the rough scars stretching across his face, up his jawline. no, more than anything, children looked up to him — saw someone they wanted to be, someone who kept them safe, someone they admired.
dynamight to most children these days is what all might was to katsuki back then. some kind of symbol, some kind of path and footsteps to follow.
in actuality, he doesn’t mind it. when the little ones of his friends and ex classmates clamber all over him, tug at his hero costume, play with his gear or call him ‘uncle kacchan’ whenever he comes over. he likes it, secretly, being someone they can look up to and someone who can look out for them in the way so many of his teachers and mentors did. katsuki bakugou, whether he’s willing to tell you the truth or not, has a soft spot for the innocence children bring to an oftentimes cold, cruel world. their laughter like sun on his skin and their smiles like a warm hug to the heart.
so, when katsuki is flushed in the face and stumbling over his words at the class 1-A weekly get-together — hard liquor sloshing over the rim of the glass he’s barely holding in a late-night bar after patrol, chest warm and ruby eyes sparkling… no one is really surprised by his accidental slip up. the one in which he blabbers on and on about single mother he’s got a crush on. the very single, available, gorgeous ( katsuki’s own words, verbatim, mind you ) single-mother working at the front desk and in the receptionist department of izuku’s agency. of all places.
“she’s gonna me mine, ‘m damn sure if it. even that damned kid.” at the time he’d confessed it like it was a promise, swore up and down and to the stars that he’d have you — hardly deterred by the fact that you had a child, a whole life before him full of firsts you’d already completed. bakugou’s friends didn’t laugh even if he’d slurred and slumped over after knocking back the rest of his drink — they knew he meant it, they were happy for him because love hadn’t come easy to katsuki before. easy hasn’t come easy to him before.
… and low and behold, everything with you, was like that. easy. like the drop of a hat. unlike troubled waters. from the day he met you at his childhood best friend’s agency — all the way until now.
katsuki had noticed you randomly one morning. walking into that idiot deku’s agency to discuss strategy for an after school training session the teacher had offered up to his students on kacchan’s behalf. it didn’t help that the blonde was already antsy, exhausted from paparazzi — he’d have made less of a fool of himself then. after making it through security, breezing through the lobby like he owned the place, bakugou is stopped by a slight and additional weight on his heavy orange-studded combat boots. he’d paused, all six foot something of his hulking frame taking up space in the bustling lobby, and then lifted his foot.
thus, coming eye to eye with a kid no older than three or four — the type with an adorable little nose (thankfully clean of boogers) and bright eyes that practically reflect the fluorescent lights above.
she’d beamed up at him then, chubby cheek perched upon the bend in his knee — unassuming, unaware of social cues, adoring him like he’s not capable of deadly things. her head tilted, smile widened to show the gaps in her baby teeth before whispering words that melted katsuki’s heart from innocence.
“i like your boots. orange is my favourite colour!”
his entire body had smiled with her. filled with a warm fuzzy feeling, akin to the flickering amber of a flame — extending from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. katsuki remembers it well, unfamiliar with the tight pull of his lips into a genuine grin. “yeah?” he’d laughed, a hybrid mix of amusement and surprise stretching through the sound, before prying the little girl from his knee and settling her safe on her feet so he could stoop properly to her level. “what’s your name, hah?”
“akari, momma calls me kari!” akari introduced herself with a practiced politeness that had surprised him at the time. a three year old runt with better manners he’d ever had.
tilting his head, bakugou then asked. “you lost, kid?”
“nuhuh. momma’s commin’,” she shook her head once, followed by the bounce of her curls very much stolen from someone else. someone who loved her too much and took care of her with every corner of their beating heart. heels click against the marble floor and accompanied by a shrill shriek — a mother’s voice only heard once reunited with their child, bakugou knew that voice all too well. his mother was the same.
protective. fearful. worried.
and then there you were, a vision coming straight into his ruby lined view — bounding up behind the child the pro hero bow crouched before.
you were picture perfect in your corporate-esque pencil skirt and matching blazer — shiny curls and locks pulled back into the a professional style perfectly suiting your hair type, not a part of you out of place… except for your frazzled expression and the wild look swirling in your eyes, panicked for your child. “i am so sorry,” you’d gotten out in a rush of syllables and letters that sounded all too pretty coming from you. a complete ( entirely too stunning ) stranger. “kari baby, i thought we agreed that you’d wait behind the desk until momma could take lunch. then you’d hang out with izuku—”
that had caught the explosive hero’s attention, head snapping up to the child in order to look for similarities and compare them to his old friend. “she his?”
there wasn’t any malice, only curiosity and a twinge of jealousy that hadn’t gone unnoticed by you. people always talked, always asked — curious as to why someone your age and so young already had a three year old toddler in tow. perhaps you were paid off to keep hush about a celebrity affair, maybe you were married fresh out of university and widowed. however, this would have been the first time somebody had asked about akari’s father and looked like they’d wanted it to be them.
“oh no,” waving a hand — you’d seemed bashful at the time, though bakugou couldn’t the lines of love etched into your features as you looked down at your daughter even then. “she’s all mine, i like to think. all the best parts of me that i need to keep safe, all the parts of me that i wish someone else had protected,” it was more than the answer that he expected, and somehow just what katsuki needed to hear — to know that not only were you single; but someone who loved others oh-so dearly and with their whole entire soul. too good for the world and anything in it. “did you need to see him? izuku? he’s uh—in a meeting right now, free in an hour… i can ring you up—?”
your words became spaced out between the way you’d bounced your baby girl on your hip and sashayed your way back to the front desk to book bakugou in — your eyes only finding his, albeit shyly, once you were safely behind the thick oak and computer systems that groaned to life after getting back online, ready to take his details.
bakugou took one look at you in that moment, squirming under his fiery gaze and then shifted his line of sight over to your baby — all happy and smiles, despite being stuck at work with her momma. bakugou thinks, really, just for a moment. if he does this, there’s no going back or being normal — there’s a mother and a child on the line… but he can’t deny the skip in his heart, one he hasn’t felt since the damn thing kickstarted after his death, he gets just from looking at you, being in your presence.
he wants to live without regret, remember than in his line of work every day could be his last so there’s no point in holding back. when you shift awkwardly, raising a brow under the suspicious looks from your coworkers — katsuki catches on, leaning his forearms against the desk politely and subtly flirtatiously.
“hold that thought,” he breathed, exhaling his nerves. “how about, you give me your number first ‘n then ring me up to that nerd — i-i mean, izuku?”
despite the low blow at your boss, you couldn’t help but flash him a flirtatious grin — endeared by the blush blasted across the brave hero’s hardened features. it’s only when you’re scribbling down your digits for him on a post-it that katsuki realises his success.
and from there, the rest is history.
it starts slowly.
bakugou making a home for himself in the outer shell of your mundane life. he paints the walls of said home, your daily routine, with colours of amber and orange and happiness in the form of your daughter’s soft giggles and date nights that make you feel like a proper human adult again — outside of your role as a mother and a matriarch.
that day at deku’s agency, he’d taken your phone number and then taken a crack at your carefully guarded heart, peeling back its paper mache layers and all, the ones that stop you from falling apart after the bullshit akari’s biological father put you through. the blonde pro hero promised to take care of it, of you, over wine after hours on your terms and at your place, never his, because you have a little human to take care of and katsuki could never question that. he makes a promise to commit to your little girl, not just you — not replace the place of her father but be someone the two of you can lean on when you really need it, when you feel like asking.
so there had been dates for two only ever when you had the time in your busy schedule for katsuki and sometimes dates for three when your parents were too tired in their older age for childcare and the sitters all fell through. katsuki bakugou, known for thinking fast and being sharp on his feet, always adjusted the plans he'd made to fit three.
fancy dinners catered to spoil you turned to lord dynamight in your kitchen after a late shift and a school run — making spaghetti bolognese with hidden veggies to get your daughter to have her five a day. romantic weekend getaways turned into road trips that included an educational outing to a museum or the aquarium — scrapped knees hanging over katsuki’s shoulders, new and matching keychains from the gift shop clipped to his car keys and her little backpack whilst the two wore twinning caps to cover their faces. identified hidden away from the paparazzi just for a weekend. shopping sprees where you’d end up draped in luxury morphed into grocery store runs on a sunday — narrowly dodging press and cameras as katsuki battled with your baby girl over which cereal was best for her growing teeth and bones.
it didn’t matter what he wanted to do with you or when he wanted to do it — if you needed it, your daughter fit right in too.
as time went on, your clothes and her shoes ended up in all four corners of his place. two extra toothbrushes alongside his, unicorn themed toys and fairy princess tea sets dotting sleek black furniture which sort of needed to be baby proofed?
in turn and as some form of wholesome payback — you made a home out of katsuki’s actual home. brought him a warmth not even his quirk could provide, and he was happy. just you three turning into this domesticated version of a family he never quite thought he’d deserved. it felt like you were becoming a unit, especially after meeting his parents — your angel akari dressed to the nines in the sweetest little dress and you dolled up so nice the man could barely keep a straight face as his mother gave you the once over. there were two extra places set at the dining table from then on, one for you and one for your daughter. courtesy of mitsuri, who loved you both oh so much.
then one day, everything sort of…shifts.
throughout your relationship and to your daughter, bakugou was known as ‘momma’s hero friend’ or ‘mister dynamight’ on occasion. even if you’d talked about it extensively, late nights curled up under blankets whilst conversations of the future hang in the air, you’d laid down the law and let katsuki know the reality of fatherhood. you weren’t looking for a replacement and certainly not for someone who’d tear your daughter’s heart in two when worse came to worse. he knew that, he accepted it right away.
because he never wanted anything more in his life. all the parts and pieces of you, he wanted to keep to himself — even the little ones with minds of their own like akari. katsuki bakugou wanted all of it. the tears, the laughter, the anger. it would be his to keep, so help him.
so, your daughter knew that katsuki was something precious to her momma just like she was. that you kissed sometimes and held hands like other parents, she enjoyed it. innocent in her happiness for her mother, believing in a childlike way that there would be a fairytale ending in which her mother would get her handsome prince in the form of her favourite hero.
having him around meant more smiles, staying up past bed time and sometimes sweet treats before dinner if she could convince him hard enough. it meant being picked up from school in the coolest car on the block and getting to brag to friends about how many pro heroes come over for dinner on a wednesday night ‘cause that’s when momma makes pizza.
having dynamight in her life meant you were happy, brighter than when it was just the two of you and in some child-like way — she recognised that. kids are smarter than adults give them credit for.
akari tells katsuki that she likes him, one night when he’s staying over and able to tuck her in. she asks him to stay forever in the middle of reading a bedtime story from school. peace at last, it’s called.
katsuki kisses her head as he turns the page; a silent promise. he doesn’t trust his voice to speak as the warbled vowels and consonants cause an ache in his throat.
convention season rolls around at the end of the school year, like a step into the summer break that calls for fun, family and free time. naturally, work never slows for your explosive pro hero boyfriend — petty crime picks up under the blistering warm of japan’s sun, burning the backs of necks and kissing cheeks until they’re rosy with heat stroke. yet, between stolen bikes and ice pops from elderly vendors on street corners — katsuki makes time for your makeshift unit of three, he holds the towels and the blue cooler filled with crunchy ice chips when he’s got time off to visit the beach and he takes your daughter to swim class at the outdoor pool on weekends to keep up with her lessons. even at work, there’s space for you two.
bakugou gets you tickets to nearly every one of the annual conventions, hero or comic con, that he’s forced to sit at — do panels and press junkets and fan meets for. in the weeks leading up, where he stays at your place instead of his and takes refuge in the blanket fort he’d spent hours constructing with your baby ( now passed out amongst stuffed animals and fairy lights ), the blonde tells you he’s not cut out for the work that goes into being a pro hero. the social side. the smiles and the cameras and the encouraging messages to strangers with struggles a little different from his.
you smile, jamming a thumb into the crease between his brows and circle it teasingly. “careful. you’ll get wrinkles, hot shot,” you hum, turning on your side and curling into the beat of his heart. “what if we come with you? a familiar set of faces in the crowd… i’m sure kari would love to see you in action too…”
it doesn’t take much convincing, not with the way you’ve taken to drawing little shapes on katsuki’s broad chest — smiling softly to yourself like you, like your daughter, don’t already own every inch of him. he’s yours, as much as the both of you are his. no need for words or papers to promise it.
baby’s first time at one of your boyfriend’s conventions is full of endless chatter, big spending mini managing. she pleads with him to purchase something from nearly every stall in artists alley, pinning princess luna badges and littlest pet shop stickers to the gruff, grumpy hero’s edgy costume. she delegates which prints get signed and in what colour sharpies at katsuki’s autographing booth ( most in pink glitter, some in orange or red ) and then grows brave enough to ask a question into the mic when it’s time for the two o’clock hero panels.
by your third, she’s already an expert at con crunching — demanding that she cosplay all versions of lord dynamight’s hero costume so they can match in every photo. by your fifth that summer, things go awry.
the air is sticky in the way that’s unpleasant — like the residue of candy smeared across your hands, stuck to the groves in your fingerprints despite how much you try to wash it off. it’s the kind of heat that clings to the tightest parts of your outfit, makes your entire body flush with sweat despite it hanging in the atmosphere. there’s too many people around, fit together like sardines in a tinned can, and bakugou’s little family has grown weary from the day — the walking, the talking with fans and endless ‘s’cuse me’s and sorry’s that come with being in such an enclosed space.
the real icing on the cake, is when your job calls in with an emergency request half way through the fun.
“izuku’s assistant called out today, the convention flu is what they’re calling it,” you say with a smile that seems to fray at the edges — tugged upwards by fine strings of parenthood and exhaustion. a mini lord explosion murder dynamight sits hungry and second away from a tantrum on your hip. “i think he’ll need my help at his booth, he’s no good at conventions on his own.”
“want me to take her?” he nods down at the fussy baby on your arm.
“no, you’re working, kats. i.. we don’t want to be a bother.”
you’re not. you wouldn’t be. it’d be my honour. he wants to say, but the worry lines on your pretty face tell him not to argue or make a scene — he doesn’t want to cause further upset. “then my sidekick’ll take her. she’ll be safe all afternoon. we’ll get her some food ‘n somethin’ shiny to occupy her, then we’ll be all good till deku lets you go. yeah?”
he leans in, pinching the chub of your baby girl’s cheek with such fondness you could mistake him for her father — she whimpers, stomach eating her little insides but keens into his touch like she trusts him. “‘suki, ‘m hungry!”
“i know aka-chan, we’ll getcha somethin’ soon.”
you look between the two and then the assistant who looks like he’s about to shit his pants. “i-i’m good with kids! i have little sisters!” his stutter makes you wince but you’re at your wits end, on a time crunch before the fuse on your little one’s appetite explodes.
“okay,” you nod once but still unsure as you move into setting her on her feet before you — hugging her close to your legs. you’re trying to be better, at trusting and letting him help. after all, your baby, your akari might even trust him a little more than you. katsuki gets it, he’s never fought you on your decisions as a parent — since aka-chan is yours and the most precious thing you have. but this time, you’re letting go and giving into him, letting another piece of your heart drift to him over an open sea like he’s offered you a life line.
you take it, firmly. “just…” you look up at his sidekick. “she’s got no allergies, but she’s sensitive to lactose. she’ll fight you on it, ‘cause she’s funny about her veggies but mae sure she eats them,” you instruct, strict. “her money is in the inside pocket of her backpack… she’s got a limit on how many toys she can get today but more art is fine and—“
“we’ve got it, right kiddo?” katsuki assures you, swooping down to be eye level with your grumpy baby. “you’re gonna be good while momma works, yeah? that idiot’s gonna get ya some food, take you to artist alley and then we’ll meet back here for my panel. how’s that sound?”
“i am?”
“you are. that’s what i just said, ain’t it?” your boyfriend bites his tongue. careful of cursing in front of a child. it’s cute that he does that.
akari toes the floor with her light up sneakers as if she’s tossing up her options — such a big decision for her age. eventually, the growling in her little belly out weighs the need to cling onto you and she topples into katsuki’s grip like it's home. “sounds good,” she looks up at you, pleading with puppy dog eyes to rival your own. “wanna go now momma.”
“okay sweet girl,” you relent, brushing back her wild curls with tender affection. “be so good while i’m gone. you know what to do if somethin’ happens?”
“look for suki or you ‘n scream as loud as i can!” she rolls up her sleeves, revealing his number written underneath yours on her arm. the sight makes bakugou’s weary heart clench at the inclusion. another little piece of your heart that you’re breaking and passing to him willingly. “ask an… n’dult to call you if i get lost.”
you crouch on her other side — kissing her warm chubby cheek. “good girl, i’ll see you soon. i love you so much.”
“love you more!”
for an hour and a half you trust katsuki’s assistant with your daughter while the two of you work. the thought of her never leaves your mind, but you let yourself believe that everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. until a very panicked sidekick calls you, terror streaked throughout the water colours of his voice, crackled and broken over the static of the con crowd.
“m-mrs dynamight — i-i’m so sorry. i— shit, i turned my back for just a second to talk to and…aka-chan. i’m so sorry. i lost her.”
in that moment, you hardly register the slip up on your name. the implication of being seen as katsuki’s missus rather than his long term girlfriend. his partner. it’s the farthest thing from your mind, especially with the most precious thing in the world to you… missing. all the cells and plasma that make up your blood run cold, icy enough the blue your lips and freeze you in place and time. the art of breathing becomes difficult, staggered enough to deprive your heart and lungs all of all the oxygen that you need — it dizzies you so badly that you have to step away from the ebb and flow of izuku’s photo-op station.
he doesn’t say anything aside from asking about your wellbeing with gentle forest eyes and brows twitched upwards. like a good man, he doesn’t question it when you say you need to go. now.
at first, katsuki pays no mind to his phone as it buzzes once in the middle of his panel — once upon a time you’d scolded him to hell and back about keeping it on silent all of the time, worrying sick about his safety after villain chases on TV. he learned is lesson since, and, usually, it’s nothing.
a text about his day, a follow on instagram , the latest hero rankings and — sure, his sidekick was a little late to meeting up with him for the panel. and, yeah, you were still unfortunately wrapped up in business with your boss but katsuki believed it to be all under control. that his family unit was safe and sound. however, when his phone buzzes again half way through a question from a very nervous red-riot fan two seconds away from passing out — the blonde pauses, pushes through his answer with a curt politeness not even the head of PR could pull from between his perfect pearly white teeth and then lets his friends lead on the discussion, stories of their uprising to heroes and who’s got the best suit.
useless, pointless, fan-fanatic bullshit that doesn’t matter — not right now, not when vermillion eyes are laced with sheer terror and a level of panic katsuki hasn’t felt since dying bursts painfully through his lungs.
YOU: akari’s gone. your sidekick said she’s missing.
YOU: have you seen her? is she with you?
YOU: maybe she went back to the panel ??
YOU: kats… i can’t find her
suddenly the room feels too big, there are too many cracks and crevices in which a little girl could get lost. stray hands, suspicious snarls flash behind his eyes — anything could happen to her, especially in a place like this full of people with both good and bad intentions. conventions are loud, busy and overwhelming even to the most sturdy of adults, let alone a girl just barely over three feet.
discreetly, he pings you a message. he’ll take care of it, if you, the little girl his heart was already falling in love with and willing to keep as his own. the pro hero fires another one off to his agent across the room — catching her clipped demeanour slip for just a second, brief fear flickering across stone cold polished features before she pieces herself back together. she leaves the panel area, swiftly conducting her own search.
everyone is scared of a missing child, everyone automatically assumes the worst… but for katsuki bakugou he feels so much more intensely. he knows you; how you can barely stand to be separated from your daughter for more than a mere moment — after all, you are the only person who pulled herself apart to deliver such a sweet baby into the world. the only one who suffered through late night feeding and the terrible teething tantrums. through and through, you are that girl’s mother and he, a person you trusted to keep akari safe.
it’s taken you a lot to open up to bakugou, let him bear the brunt of parenthood alongside you after facing it all on your own for so long. and now, the culmination of your life’s work and love has disappeared within an instant — no thanks to him.
his heart races like he’s lost something of his own, nausea curling around the tangled organs in his stomach — twisting his thoughts into the worst possible outcomes. katsuki, for the first time since dying in his late teens, is terrified. questions without answers, ones where his brain confuses reality with the cruel diction of his mind start to filter through — is she hurt? is she sick? did someone take her?
the blonde must have visibly paled, all colour from his golden skin and dangerously vibrant red eyes has drained away as though someone has sucked the colour from live film, because kirishima nudges him — smile weak, barely there and suddenly the typically explosive number two hero is all too aware of the bright lights and phone screens and mics and curious eyes all laser focused on him.
“you okay, blasty?” the red head whispers, drawing his mic away from his sharp-toothed mouth.
bakugou blinks once, twice — pulse erratic beneath his skin. he needs to go, needs to find her now. “what?” he snaps, without meaning to be vicious. “huh?”
“it’s your question, dude…” kaminari speaks this time, tone etched with worry, from katsuki’s left.
everyone is watching, waiting, preying on his next move and all he can think about is the thought of your baby — hell, his baby, scared and alone and possibly with someone else. someone dangerous. the brutish pro’s gaze scans the room, picking apart hair colours and face shapes trying to identify the kid and even flickers momentarily to his agent, who only offers him a frightening frown. no luck. fuck.
lifting his mic apologetically, mask suddenly too tight around his eyes and hero costume sticky against his scarred skin, katsuki takes a deep breath to steel his nerves. calm himself before the real pressure hits.
“listen guys, fuck, i think i gotta—”
“daddy!”
before he can even think of what to say, how to apologise for ditching a panel to search for a kid that isn’t even biologically his — the little girl he’s so desperate to find barrels through the left lane of chairs that form his audience. akari’s sweet brown eyes are wet with enough tears to make up the volume of water in her teeny tiny body and her voice is shrill from crying. she runs past fans patiently waiting to ask questions to their faves, but bakugou can hardly care less — he matches her pace, stumbling from his seat down to the bottom of the stage where he scoops the tiny toddler into his burly arms.
cameras click, the crowd coos but all he can focus is the little girl quivering in his hold — her tiny fingers curling into the latex of his costume bound to all of his muscles, softening the embrace. “hey, hey. you’re okay,” bakugou mumbles against her hairline, hugging the back of her head to keep her close. “what happened, baby? y’get lost?”
she nods her head babyish as though she’s afraid of getting scolded and tucks her face further into his strong neck. “did everythin’ you ‘n momma said, stayed put a-and asked n’dult for help!” the tighter he squeezes her, the more akari relaxes — her hiccuped sobs retreating into small shaky sniffles. “showed ‘em your number on my arm n said my daddy was doin’ a play here. they helped me find you.”
katsuki doesn’t care about the snot on his clothes or the tears seeping through to his skin — the adrenaline stops him from focusing on it, heart racing faster than it would during any fight or patrol, only slowing once he’s got her safe and sound.
“that’s good, bug, did such a good job.” he smiles softly, dazed and dizzy by her safe return and maybe the fact that she’s called him dad. twice.
little fingers and tiny hands gesture towards the two starstruck teens dressed, funnily enough, as bakugou and deku. he gives them a wave, makes a mental note to sign their shit later and get a photo. he’ll kill his sidekick afterwards. “did so good, aka, betcha mom’s worried sick.”
she makes a hybrid sound, half way between a whine and a groan — flinging little chubby arms around his neck as if they could get any closer than they already were. bakugou hums then, shoots a nod to his agent and hauls the little girl up to sit on his hip comfortably. as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if a toddler who no one knew about hasn’t just screamed ‘dad’ and cried his name, the blonde breezes back up to the stage and resumes the panel — seating your daughter in his lap and whilst the audience ooo’s and aww’s at her adlibs between questions.
she is a professional hero too, after all.
eijirou entertains big brown eyes and a fidgety toddler with his hardening quirk between questions, denki creates static in soft tendrils of hair which makes akari look a little bit more like bakugou. she paws at the mic to tell fans that their costumes are so cool and overall, her mood improves… because to her, katsuki is safe just like mom is. he’s home. someone she can trust.
he texts you an update, large palms curling around akari’s tummy to keep her sturdy.
KATS: stand down momma.
KATS: found akari, kid came to me all on her own.
KATS: meet us at the panel?
it’s not until one of the jittery teens who just so happened to rescue the baby girl bundled up in lord dynamight’s arms, that his attention ticks — gratefulness carved into his features, spread across this absentminded smile, pulling at thick sunny blonde brows. katsuki holds her a little tighter now, jogging his knee up and down to keep her soothed whilst she sits across his thighs, now playing with a pen someone had handed to her.
“has anyone ever saved you? like… the way you save other people?”
the question drops like a flare in the night and while the other pro heroes answer both light and airy with their words — katsuki can’t help but mull it all over. has he been saved before? yes. more times than he can count and whether he wanted it or not. there have been a myriad of instances where someone, somehow has kept him alive with just words or a thoughtful gesture even when he didn’t deserve it.
but he knows now, that no matter what he’s done or said in the past — his life matters. his existence has been earned and he’s repented for his mistakes. if katsuki hadn’t, he wouldn’t be here. with you, with akari, with his friends right alongside him chatting away about the superficial things with the people who keep his career steady and stable. in a way, you saved him, akari saved him — the realisation is as sweet as honey on his tongue because…
“yes,” katsuki answers without holding back, as if speaking his feelings is as easy as breathing in an icy gust of fresh country air. “y’know, sometimes, bein’ a hero — you forget to take care of yourself. s’all adrenaline and beating down the bad guys, but you don’t care what happens to you or your body in the process. just makin’ sure that everyone else is okay.”
the blonde hero starts, occasionally poking the corner of his mouth with his tongue — deliberating on what to say next, what parts of his heart to share with the world where he’s usually so private. “but then there’s my kid ‘n my girlfriend. they care about the little bits of me that look invincible to everyone else, my little girl,” bakugou, despite holding the mic to his lips, presses them against the softness of akari’s hairline like he’s grounding himself. “she’ll ask me why ‘m so beat up ‘n bruised. play pretend doctor when ‘m over at her mom’s until she’s able to properly patch me up.”
“having a family like this, blood or not, reminds me to take care of myself even while i’m doing my job.” something stirs in the distance, behind the crowd of convention-goers stacked up after rows of filled seats. “i started bein’ smarter during fights, gentler with the ones i know can go down easy. started thinking before jumping into it.” it’s just a little commotion. small, yet, urgent enough to catch the eye of the fabled explosive pro hero. he feels himself sit a little straighter, voice much more sure than before because through a sea of people — katsuki’s love lined ruby eyes find yours. a little frantic with motherly fear, a little glassy as if you’d been listening to him speak this whole time. “you know, taking care of myself for the people who care about every bit of me.”
then you’re melting on the spot, all the tension in your shoulders eases and turns into pure relief once you spot your baby wriggling about on the edge of bakugou’s lap as if she’d always belonged there and been a part of him. “so when i say, yes, i’ve been saved. i don’t mean in the physical way,” the hero ends his speech with a small nod your way, all of his heart entirely yours — signed off to you like his name has been printed on a contract. “i mean in the way that family can, that being loved can.”
at first, the audience is quiet — not in a way that’s awkward or pained, but the type of silence that makes you think. drink in the moment and appreciate what you’ve been given. although the air tingles with warmth, the subtle scent of love mingling with every quiet break taken — there’s some kind of emotive tension that thickens the atmosphere. in that silence, that tension, that quiet — katsuki finds you again. endeared and amused by the tears that threaten to spill over the apples of your cheeks, the acceptance on your face and the trust that underpins it.
as if you hadn’t already known before, you know now that you can trust katsuki bakugou with the most precious thing you have.
off to the side, kaminari’s fond, amused laughter echoes through the mic and sends a warm vibration through the valves in your heart. “woah, dude, didn’t know you could be such a sap!” he jokes lightly, alleviating the weight in the room, though it’s not unwelcome.
“it’s not sap, i’m just being honest about real shit!” the lighter blonde retaliates with no malice behind his tone — everyone around him chuffs, entertained by the back and forth between two long time friends and amplified by a tiny hand slapping against his slightly stubbled cheek. the conventions have been busy, you like his peach fuzz but prefer when he shaves — only reminded by akari rubbing her little mitts over the gentle beginnings of a beard.
“thas’ a bad word, daddy. no swearin’!”
it’s not until later that evening that everything hits katsuki all at once.
you’re in his bathroom, the one he doesn’t share with the three year old snoozing down the hall — brushing your teeth, face mask on, while his shirt hangs loose on your frame, swallowing you up because it’s however many sizes too big. he’s stepped back to give you some space, it’s been a long time since he learned not to mess with your night time routine — but katsuki’s grateful, it gives him a second to admire you, watch you move through his space as though you’ve always been there. in that moment, you look like home and everything he fights to come back to. in that instance, you feel like his family that he can’t see himself living without.
bakugou pushes off the tiled wall he’s been leaning on, the surface cold in comparison to your heated skin as he wraps sturdy arms around you from behind. the sight in the mirror above the bathroom sink is one of domesticity, a head full of fluffy straw blonde hair tucked carefully into the junction between your neck and shoulders, a hulking man curled around you like he can’t get enough and his large, hands full of so much power, danger and love settled onto your soft stomach. it’s home. its safe.
you don’t say a word but your body does the talking, sinking back into bakugou like you trust him to catch you if you fall. he moves with you, letting you finish off with your electric toothbrush — killing the buzz once you’re done with it before you swipe away the rest of your face mask. content to work in your arms.
slightly chapped lips graze the base of your throat, heated and careful — the ghost of everything he wants to say pressed into your skin.
calm stillness lingers between you both, your breathing syncs and you lean into one another because it’s been… a day. a day where the two of you have learned to give and trust in order to protect something you mutually love. you don’t push, you wait for the thoughts that turn to phrases into katsuki’s mind and only reach back to rake your fingertips through his sun-kissed hair, soothing his mind where it can’t catch up enough to let him talk.
“she called me dad,” bakugou’s voice is gravelly, thick with emotion when he decides he trusts himself enough to speak. “not just once…like three fuckin’ times and i know what that means. how heavy that is. won’t ever ask her to say it again unless she wants to but i—”
he’s rambling, he knows that — he’s not the type to lose his cool. it’s taken him years of trust and battle scars to let other people see the sides of him that are vulnerable and weak and care so damn much. yet, with you, it all comes too easy. as natural as a heart beat or filling your chest and lungs with oxygen.
in the mirror, katsuki catches the soft twitch of your lips up into an adoring smile — as though you’ve realised something about him, this. he goes onto say. “she called me dad and i… well, shit. i liked it. i loved it,” he hums against your neck, kissing in an attempt to hide his shyness in your baby hair. “and i swear, ‘m not talking shit. she’s your kid and i love her and i know what this means…but if you’re okay with it, if you want me to. i’ll step up, prove myself as someone she can call a father.”
“oh, katsuki…”
turning in his arms, you can’t help but sniffle — taking his face between shaky hands and cupping his cheeks. for three years, you’ve done this all on your own. the late nights full of tears, the toddler temper tantrums and early mornings before school. toys scattered under your feet, styling hair where your mother never quite properly taught you how to do your own. you’ve braved it all by yourself, hardly ever asking for help and here, now, comes this brilliantly stubborn man who’s all rough around the edges and hardly cookie cutter ready to help you through it all.
he wants to be a father, he wants to help you raise your little girl you’ve broken every part of you to protect. katsuki wants you to let him in for good, and your daughter does too.
he sees your eyes start to twinkle with tears once more and that’s when katsuki laughs. quiet, breathy, fond. his scarred fingers sink from your waist to your ass, lifting you up until you’re able to wrap your legs around his hips.
“you’ll get dehydrated if you keep cryin’ today, sweetheart,” you don’t mind the way he talks to you, all gentle and slow like katsuki’s bringing you down from an overwhelming emotion before it drowns out your voice. it’s so tender, reassuring to know that he’s got you. both you and your baby. “‘m telling you now. i want this. i want her to be my kid, swear to god she might as well be. i love her, love you,” he rasps like it’s a promise — swearing to the invisible crown atop your head.
you press your forehead to his, eyes fluttering shut as you’re soothed by his confession. “today, when you said she was lost… i thought i’d die. don’t laugh at me! i did!” mushy gushy words dissolve into his deep, rumbling giggles that send a burst of warmth through your being — even if you’re a teary, emotional mess katsuki can still make you smile. “listen, i haven’t panicked that much since i was a kid. a stupid one who thought that i could handle the world,” bakugou sucks in a breath. you feel it coast warmly over your bottom lip. “i’ll do anything to never feel like that again, keep her close and safe ‘cause i feel like she’s mine.”
“she is yours,” you say wetly, shaking your head of any tears that start to clump in your lashes. “she’s called you dad after all. you might as well be.”
it’s a bashful ask, but it’s you finally opening up your heart and tearing your walls down — you’re letting katsuki be akari’s father figure if he wants to and he’d be a fool to say no. saying yes means more summers like this, more melted ice creams in the back of his expensive car and sticky fingers that cup his face until he makes silly expressions. saying yes means school pick ups and drop offs where bakugou catches akari bragging about how cool dad is. saying yes means seeing her grow, means birthdays and parties and sweet sixteens and maybe even boyfriends. or girlfriends. or partners. and stern talking to’s. ‘if you hurt my daughter — i’ll kill you’ kinda speeches.
katsuki never thought he’d say it, see it or get to experience it — but he can’t wait to learn and to grow with you. to become a father of exemplary to his own and those that reared him from the rough and unruly scrappy kid he was to the man adored by you and your child now.
whatever the future may bring, he wants it. he can’t wait for it. with the two of you close by his side.
“and i’m hers. i’m all hers and all yours. got me wrapped around your fingers you do.” he promises quietly, the seriousness echoing into the thick of the night — really meaning his every word.
you smile knowingly, teasingly and say. “we know.”
with you still in his arms and a kiss chastely pressed against your salt streaked lips, katsuki pulls the string for the bathroom light and trudges back to the main bedroom, a buzz of excitement for the future hangs in the air — plans for a family, for a ring remain left unsaid.
but one thing that remains for certain, is that your daughter, sweet kari, will be included in all of them. as she had been before.
akari comes knocking when the moon is up high, barely slipping through the curtains as she pads bare foot into the bedroom katsuki shares with you tonight.
“daddy?”
usually you’d be awake and on it just from the sound of her little footsteps on the hardwood floor — jumping up in that way mums do where their eyes go wide and they pant like they’ve just been revived or come up for air. though tonight, you’re too exhausted to move, the fright from earlier on in the day and the struggle to wrestle akari down for bed has you more exhausted than you’ll ever let on. but katsuki knows you, he lets you sleep. taking this new duty on.
he stirs on instinct, call it fatherly, but his body moves without thinking — he sits up, throws his arms open despite the sleep caked to the corners of his eyes and welcomes your daughter, his daughter home. “hey princess,” bakugou coos, and, as if he’s handling a fine china doll, carefully lifts the baby girl into his lap — heart trilling happily when she snuggles into the molten center of his chest. “shouldn’t you be asleep? what’cha doin’ up?”
“wanted cuddles.” she yawns, head bobbing while she fights to stay up. her chubby cheek rests squarely against the blonde’s heartbeat, she’d never be able to tell it stopped once upon a time — not with the way it dully thuds against her teeny right ear.
rhythmic like a lullaby.
katsuki nods once into the dark, tendrils of tiredness begging him to come back to bed. however, he was a child once upon a time — he too ( not that he’d ever admit it ) used to wake up in the dead of night searching for comfort. even in his teens. after he was kidnapped. after he died. she must be having bad dreams. he figures. probably from getting lost
“you didn’t want any from momma?” the hero’s leg bounces, in the way he knows comforts akari — her little curls swaying with the rhythm.
“mommy’s hands get cold.” she complains through another adorable yawn. “like your cuddles. y’warmer…”
bakugou grins at that, vermillion eyes dancing with so much love and adoration you might mistake the grumpy pro hero for someone else. he’d gone soft, he knew that, but anyone with two eyes and a brain could understand why. standing from the bed slowly, and now, shifting to stand by the window whilst bouncing a sleepy akari on his hip — he warms the palms of his hands with his quirk in an attempt to lull his baby girl back to dream land. “freezin’ aren’t they?” he whispers as he nuzzles the top of her head, gaze switching from the glittering city he protects, below — to the preciously perfect little one he now protects, in his arms. “s’okay bug, i’ll keep you warm then, right up until you fall asleep.”
“promise?”
“pinky,” the blonde confirms. “daddy’s gotcha.”
“‘mkay…” kari somehow manages to get out, the syllables slipping away from her since she’s already drifting, fist curled into bakugou’s sleep shirt. “love you, daddy.”
katsuki’s heart soars, the late night suddenly all too worth it. “love you too,” he murmurs softly, voice sweet like molten caramel as he rocks the little girl until her body relaxes with sleep. “to the moon and back, kid.”
so yeah, katsuki bakugou always been good with kids, but with this one, he swears — he’ll be even better.
end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!