Chapter Text
The Bakugou-Shinsou household on Christmas morning was a whirlwind of warmth, chaos, and the kind of banter that came only after years of love and familiarity. Snowflakes swirled lazily outside, dusting the world in white, while inside, the scent of fresh pine and cinnamon filled the air. The fireplace crackled softly, casting a golden glow across the living room, where Sakura, now twelve, was the epitome of a pre-teen—loud, opinionated, and just mischievous enough to keep her dads on their toes. She’d spent the past half-hour tearing through wrapping paper and chattering at full speed, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the fireplace in the corner.
Marmalade Jr., their grumpy orange tabby, perched on the arm of the couch with an expression that could only be described as long-suffering. He batted at stray bits of ribbon while Sakura lounged on the floor beside him, her messy hair tied back in a haphazard bun and her mismatched Christmas pajamas dusted with glitter.
"Okay, I’m calling it now," Sakura declared dramatically, holding up a neatly wrapped, rectangular package. "This one’s a training manual. I know it is."
In the kitchen, Bakugou barely looked up from where he was piping frosting onto a tray of cookies. His usual scowl was softened by the ridiculous reindeer sweater Shinsou had bullied him into wearing last year—complete with a Rudolph nose that blinked if you pressed it. Bakugou snorted. "Keep running your mouth, and next year you’re getting nothing but training manuals."
Finishing a perfectly straight line of frosting on a star-shaped cookie."Don’t tempt me, brat,” he mockingly threatened.
"Please." Sakura snorted, dragging the word out like only a teenager could.
Bakugou turned his head just enough to glare at her. "Say that again when you’re not flat on your back in under three minutes."
“I let you win last time.” Sakura rolled her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips. "Plus like you’d actually do that. I’m your favorite."
Bakugou poked his head around the corner, flour streaked across his cheek from a morning of baking. "You’re lucky that’s true, brat."
Shinsou entered the scene moments later, nursing his second mug of coffee. The words “Best Daddy Ever” were still faintly visible beneath a series of doodles—explosions, a cat, and what looked like a stick figure family. His sharp purple eyes, softer with age, flicked between his daughter and husband with the kind of fondness that made his chest ache. He ruffled Sakura’s hair as he passed, earning a loud groan.
Shinsou ruffled her hair once more, his smirk growing as Sakura swatted at his hand.
“Stop messing up my hair, Daddy! It’s already a mess,” she whined, glaring up at him with mock annoyance.
“That’s the point,” Shinsou replied smoothly, letting his hand drop to his side. “I’m just adding to the charm.”
Sakura groaned dramatically, tugging at her lopsided bun. “Charm doesn’t mean ‘looking like I just fought a tornado.’”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Shinsou teased, reaching for another sip of his coffee.
From the kitchen, Bakugou’s gruff voice cut in. “She gets it from you, Hitoshi. My hair never looks that bad.”
Sakura and Shinsou turned toward him in unison, identical smirks spreading across their faces.
“Your hair looks like it fights itself every morning, Papa,” Sakura said sweetly, earning a sharp glare from Bakugou.
“Careful, young lady,” Bakugou growled, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “You’re not too old for dish duty.”
“Worth it,” she said with a grin, flopping back onto the couch with a dramatic sigh.
"She’s right, though babe," Shinsou replied smoothly, sinking onto the couch beside her. "You might as well embrace it." Causing Bakugou’s attention to quickly snap to Shinsou.
Bakugou’s glare shifted between Sakura and Shinsou, his crimson eyes narrowing. “You two really think you’re funny, huh?”
“Not funny, Papa,” Sakura replied innocently, her grin anything but. “Just honest. Right, Daddy?”
Shinsou sipped his coffee, clearly enjoying the show. “I mean, the kid’s not wrong. Your hair does kinda have that ‘fought a hurricane and lost’ vibe.”
Bakugou’s scowl deepened, though the faint twitch of his lips betrayed him. “Hilarious. Real comedians, the both of you.” His gruff tone did little to hide the warmth beneath it, but he wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of seeing his soft side—not yet, anyway.
“Thanks, Papa!” Sakura chirped, giving him a two-finger salute. “It’s a gift.”
With a final glare that lacked any real heat, he turned on his heel and marched back into the kitchen. "Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone," he tossed over his shoulder.
Shinsou and Sakura exchanged triumphant smirks, their victory sealed by the sound of Toffee’s tiny meow as she darted after Bakugou.
Shinsou raised an eyebrow, his free hand tugging at a lock of her purple-streaked hair. "Careful. I could take credit for these streaks and claim it as genetic."
"Ugh, fine. You win this time."
Bakugou barked a laugh from the kitchen. "What’d I miss?"
"Your kid thinks she’s clever," Shinsou called back.
"Your kid thinks she’s clever," Sakura echoed under her breath, sticking her tongue out at him.
Shinsou smirked, turning to Bakugou with his signature lazy grin. "She’s got your stubbornness, you know."
"And she’s got your smart mouth," Bakugou shot back, shoving the tray of cookies into the oven. “Great combo. Thanks for that.”
"That’s called ‘wit,’ babe," Shinsou replied smoothly, earning an exaggerated groan from Sakura.
“Oh my god, you two, stop flirting! It’s Christmas,” she said, dragging the word out even longer this time.
“Flirting?” Bakugou barked, straightening up so fast he almost hit the counter. “No one’s flirting!”
“Sure, Papa,” Sakura said with a laugh, tossing a balled-up piece of wrapping paper in his direction. He caught it effortlessly, glaring at her before tossing it in the trash.
Before Shinsou could retaliate, Marmalade Jr., their grumpy orange tabby, leapt onto the arm of the couch with the grace of a cat half his age. Sakura reached for him, but he dodged her hands, tail flicking disdainfully as he surveyed the chaos. Not far behind, Toffee—the newest addition to the family—bounded into the room, a tiny gray kitten with big, curious eyes. Toffee chased a stray ribbon with uncoordinated enthusiasm, tumbling over her own paws as she pounced. Sakura immediately scooped her up, holding her close.
"Who’s a good little baby? You are!" she cooed, rubbing her nose against Toffee’s. Marmalade Jr. watched with a disapproving glare, like a long-suffering elder who’d resigned himself to tolerating the kitten’s antics.
Shinsou leaned over to scratch Toffee under the chin. "She’s getting spoiled already," he commented.
"She’s cute. She deserves it," Sakura replied, her voice matter-of-fact.
Shinsou opened his mouth to retort, but his attention was drawn to Bakugou reentering the room with a tray of cookies. They were decorated with a precision that could only belong to a man who treated even holiday traditions as serious business.
"Fresh from the oven," Bakugou announced, setting the tray on the coffee table.
"You’re seriously making more cookies?" Shinsou teased, watching as Bakugou brushed flour off his sweater. "Didn’t you bake, like, five dozen already?"
"That’s what Christmas is for, idiot," Bakugou shot back, swiping a stray sprinkle off the counter with one finger. "Besides, you two keep eating them before I can finish decorating."
"Correction," Shinsou said, holding up a finger. "Sakura keeps eating them."
Sakura gasped in mock offense. "How dare you, Daddy. These accusations are baseless!"
"Baseless, my ass," Bakugou muttered, pointing at her with a candy cane cookie. "I caught you red-handed last night."
"That was Toffee," Sakura said, not missing a beat. The kitten, who was still snuggled in her arms, let out a soft "mew" as if to back her up.
"Uh-huh." Bakugou’s tone was flat, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
As they bickered, Shinsou’s sharp eyes flicked upward, catching the sight of the mistletoe hanging innocently above the kitchen doorway. He smirked, his gaze settling on Bakugou.
"Hey, Kats," Shinsou said casually.
"What now?" Bakugou grunted, turning toward him.
Shinsou tilted his head toward the mistletoe. "You walked right under it."
Bakugou’s expression darkened immediately. "You’ve gotta be kidding me."
"You know the rules," Shinsou replied, his smirk widening as he leaned back on the couch. "Tradition."
"Tradition, my ass," Bakugou growled. "We’ve been married for decades. Don’t you think this joke’s gotten old?"
"Never," Shinsou said, standing and stepping closer. "C’mon, Kats. Don’t make me beg."
Sakura, who’d been watching the exchange with barely contained glee, chimed in. "Kiss him, Papa! Do it for the holiday spirit."
"Holiday spirit, my—" Bakugou started, but Shinsou silenced him with a kiss before he could finish.
The kiss was slow and deliberate, a perfect mix of affection and mischief. Bakugou grumbled against Shinsou’s lips but didn’t pull away, his free hand resting lightly on Shinsou’s hip.
"Ew, gross!" Sakura cried, holding Toffee up as if to shield the kitten from the scene. "This is a family-friendly holiday!"
“See what you’ve done, idiot?” Bakugou growled, his face red as he turned back to the counter. "Now our kid and kitten are scarred for life."
“Pretty sure she’s fine,” Shinsou said, chuckling as he leaned back against the counter. “You, on the other hand…”
"Keep talking," Bakugou muttered, picking up the piping bag again. "Next time, you’re gettin’ the mistletoe shoved somewhere the sun doesn’t shine."
"Promises, promises," Shinsou replied, his smirk widening.
Sakura, still sprawled on the floor, giggled. "Face it, Papa. You’re whipped."
Bakugou didn’t bother responding, though the way his ears turned red was answer enough.
Shinsou pulled back, laughing as Bakugou turned his glare toward their daughter. "You’re next, brat."
"Try me," Sakura replied with a grin, darting behind the couch for cover.
By the time breakfast was served, the kitchen was filled with the scent of scrambled eggs, fresh toast, and the faintest hint of burnt coffee (courtesy of Shinsou, who’d insisted on helping). Sakura devoured her plate with the kind of energy only a teenager could muster, pausing only to sneak bits of food to Toffee, who perched on the chair beside her.
Bakugou watched the scene from across the table, his sharp eyes softening as he leaned back in his chair. Shinsou caught the look and nudged him under the table.
"You’re staring," Shinsou said softly.
"Shut up," Bakugou muttered, though he didn’t look away.
Shinsou smirked. "You’re allowed to be sappy, you know. It’s Christmas."
Bakugou grumbled something under his breath and reached for his mug, but Shinsou caught the faintest upward twitch of his lips.
For decades, practically ever since they started dating and spending Christmas with one another, Shinsou Hitoshi had made a game of ambushing Bakugou under the mistletoe. It was a tradition he cherished—not just for the teasing, but because it gave him an excuse to show affection to the grumpy, sharp-edged man he loved. But this year, Bakugou was ready for revenge, and he had a secret weapon: Sakura.
It started subtly. As Shinsou wandered into the kitchen, empty mug in hand, Sakura sprawled on the living room floor, her legs kicking idly in the air while Toffee batted at a stray ribbon and Marmalade Jr. snoozed nearby. Bakugou, who had been watching Shinsou out of the corner of his eye, crouched beside Sakura and tapped her shoulder, beckoning her closer with a conspiratorial grin.
“Alright, Saku, listen up,” Bakugou whispered, keeping one eye on the kitchen doorway. “Here’s the plan.”
Sakura’s eyes lit up immediately, her grin mirroring his. “What’s the target?”
“Your dad,” Bakugou said, glancing toward the kitchen. Shinsou was busy at the counter, oblivious to their plotting. “He thinks he’s so damn smooth with all this mistletoe crap. It’s time to turn the tables.”
“Oh, this is going to be good.” Sakura sat up, her purple-streaked hair falling into her face as she leaned in closer. “What do you need me to do?”
Bakugou held up a small sprig of mistletoe that he had stashed in his pocket. “You’re in charge of setting the traps. Everywhere he goes, I want him walking right into one of these.”
Sakura clapped her hands, barely able to contain her excitement. “Papa, you’re a genius! He won’t know what hit him. I’ll make it happen.”
“Excellent.” Bakugou ruffled her hair before standing. “Let’s see how he likes it.”
After breakfast—a messy affair that included Toffee stealing a piece of bacon off Sakura’s plate—Shinsou made the tactical error of leaving the loves of his life unattended while he went to refill his coffee.
Sakura nudged Bakugou, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Now’s our chance."
Bakugou smirked, leaning down to whisper. "You remember the plan?"
"Of course," she whispered back, already swapping two boxes from the neatly arranged pile under the tree.
Sakura wasted no time. The second Shinsou stepped out of the kitchen, mug now refilled, she darted into action. She grabbed tape and a few sprigs of mistletoe from a small pile Bakugou had prepared, strategically placing them above doorways, near the coat rack, and even over Shinsou’s favorite armchair.
“Operation Uno Reverse is a go,” she whispered to herself, giving Toffee a quick pat before dashing off to set the next trap.
The first strike came as Shinsou stepped into the hallway, yawning into his coffee. Bakugou, lounging casually against the wall, called out to him.
“Oi, Toshi.”
Shinsou glanced over from where he stood in the hallway, cradling a mug of coffee in one hand. His gaze was met with Bakugou’s deceptively innocent smile—a sight that immediately put him on edge. “What?”
Bakugou didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tilted his head upward, his grin widening just slightly. “Look up.”
Shinsou frowned, but his instincts told him he wasn’t going to like this. Slowly, he followed Bakugou’s gaze, his stomach sinking when his eyes landed on the sprig of mistletoe taped neatly to the archway above him.
“Oh, come on,” he muttered, his voice carrying a note of exasperation.
“Rules are rules,” Bakugou replied, his tone light but far too smug as he pushed off the wall and started walking toward him.
“Do we have to follow every single one of these ‘dumb’ holiday traditions? Thought you were against it?” Shinsou asked, already backing up slightly. His face felt warm, and he couldn’t decide if it was from the coffee or the way Bakugou was looking at him—like he was the cat who’d caught the canary.
“Yeah, well, I wouldn't want to disappoint you. Always going on about traditions. ” Bakugou said, closing the gap between them. His voice dropped slightly, teasing and affectionate all at once. “It’s Christmas, babe.”
Before Shinsou could stammer out another protest, Bakugou hooked his fingers into the front of Shinsou’s hoodie and tugged him forward. The kiss was slow and deliberate, with just enough of Bakugou’s characteristic boldness to make Shinsou’s knees wobble.
Shinsou’s brain short-circuited. His free hand twitched like he wasn’t sure whether to rest it on Bakugou’s shoulder or shove him away—not that he could’ve managed the latter even if he wanted to. The warmth of Bakugou’s lips against his and the steady hand on his chest made every thought in his head dissolve like sugar in hot chocolate.
When Bakugou finally pulled back, Shinsou was left blinking up at him, his mouth slightly parted as if the kiss had stolen the air from his lungs.
“P—Payback?” Shinsou managed to say, his voice cracking slightly.
“Payback,” Bakugou confirmed, smirking as he brushed past him. His hand lingered briefly on Shinsou’s shoulder as he passed, the touch far too casual for someone who’d just kissed his husband into oblivion.
From the living room, Sakura let out a gleeful cheer. “Got him! Papa, that was perfect!”
Shinsou, still rooted in place under the mistletoe, turned slowly toward the sound of her voice. “ You were in on this?” he asked, his ears blazing red.
Sakura peeked around the corner, her face practically glowing with amusement. “Obviously. How could I not help with something this good?”
Shinsou groaned, dragging a hand over his face, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “I can’t believe I fell for that.”
“Fell for it?” Bakugou called over his shoulder, already heading toward the kitchen. “Tch, you melted for it, Tosh.”
Shinsou sputtered, his voice an octave higher than usual. “I—did not!”
Sakura cackled, darting back into the living room with Toffee in tow. Marmalade Jr., perched nearby, flicked his tail in what could only be described as judgmental amusement.
Left standing alone under the mistletoe, Shinsou sighed and took a sip of his coffee, the warmth in his chest completely unrelated to the drink.
“Damn traditions. Who came up with them anyways.” he muttered to himself, though the faint smile on his face suggested otherwise.
Shinsou groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “This is going to be a long day.”
The second ambush came while Shinsou was helping Sakura with the gingerbread house. The kitchen was a cozy mess of frosting tubes, gumdrops, and half-assembled candy walls. Toffee perched on the counter beside them, batting at a stray gumdrop, while Marmalade Jr. observed from his usual spot by the window, his tail flicking lazily.
“Daddy, can you hold this here while I stick it?” Sakura asked, gesturing to a crooked wall piece that refused to stay upright.
“Sure thing, kiddo,” Shinsou said, leaning closer and steadying the gingerbread wall with his fingers. “But we might need an engineer for this. It’s defying the laws of physics.”
Sakura giggled, smearing frosting on the edge of the wall. “Papa says if you mess up, you’re the one eating it.”
“Good thing I like gingerbread,” Shinsou replied, grinning.
Bakugou’s voice cut through the room, smooth and confident. “Ohhh~ Hi-to-shi~”
Shinsou didn’t look up, his focus still on the precarious gingerbread structure. “What is it, Katsuki?”
“Check out our lovely decorations.”
Shinsou froze mid-motion. He knew that tone. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he glanced upward. His stomach dropped as he spotted it—another sprig of mistletoe, taped neatly to the cabinet above him.
“Katsuki…” Shinsou muttered, narrowing his eyes. “I swear, if this is your doing—”
“Of course it is,” Bakugou interrupted, sauntering into the kitchen with his arms crossed and a smug grin plastered across his face. “Tradition’s tradition, babe. You’ve been oh-so-enthusiastic about it all these years. Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”
Shinsou blinked, his lips parting in surprise as his face began to flush. “That’s not—”
“What’s the matter, Toshi?” Bakugou cut him off, stepping closer. “Not so eager to follow the rules this time? You’ve been running this game for years. Always so enthusiastic about catching me under the mistletoe. What’s changed?”
Sakura, clearly enjoying this far too much, giggled from her spot at the counter. “Oooooh, Daddy’s nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” Shinsou said quickly, though his pink cheeks betrayed him. He shot a half-hearted glare at Sakura, who hid her laughter behind a candy cane.
“Sure you’re not,” Bakugou teased, leaning in until their faces were just inches apart. His grin was sharp, but his crimson eyes were warm. “What happened to all that confidence, babe? Don’t tell me I make you nervous.”
“You’re insufferable,” Shinsou muttered, though his voice had lost all its usual sharpness.
Bakugou smirked. “And yet, here you are, standing right under the mistletoe.”
Before Shinsou could muster a comeback, Bakugou closed the gap, cupping the side of his face and kissing him with deliberate slowness. It wasn’t the quick, teasing peck Shinsou had expected—it was warm and lingering, filled with the kind of affection that made Shinsou’s knees feel unsteady.
When Bakugou finally pulled back, Shinsou was blinking at him, wide-eyed and flustered. His ears burned red, and his fingers still rested awkwardly on the gingerbread wall like he’d forgotten what he was doing.
“Papa!” Sakura squealed, clutching her sides as she laughed. “You broke Daddy!”
“Good,” Bakugou replied, stepping back with a satisfied smirk. “About time he felt what I’ve been putting up with for years.”
Shinsou finally managed to find his voice, though it came out quieter than usual. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love it,” Bakugou shot back, leaning casually against the counter. “Guess I’m just better at this tradition than you are.”
Sakura, still giggling, pointed at Shinsou. “Daddy, your face is so red! You look like one of the gumdrops!”
Shinsou sighed, dragging a hand down his face to hide the blush creeping up his neck. “Keep it up, and you’re eating this gingerbread house by yourself.”
“Worth it!” Sakura chirped, sticking a gumdrop on the roof.
Bakugou chuckled, brushing a crumb off Shinsou’s sweater. “You should see your face, Daddy . Priceless.”
Shinsou shot him a glare, though the softness in his expression ruined any chance of it being intimidating. “Next year, you’re banned from the mistletoe.”
“Yeah, sure,” Bakugou said with a wink. “If you think you can stop me.”
Sakura, ever the instigator, chimed in, “I can help next year, too!”
Shinsou groaned, his face still warm as he turned back to the gingerbread house. “I’ve created monsters.”
And if his hands lingered on Bakugou’s arm just a little longer than necessary, neither of them pointed it out.
The day unfolded in a series of mistletoe ambushes, each more dramatic than the last. Mistletoe appeared everywhere—above the coffee table, the fridge, and even on the coat rack by the front door. Shinsou walked headfirst into every single trap, much to Sakura’s delight and Bakugou’s smug amusement.
Every kiss left Shinsou red-faced and stammering, his sharp wit noticeably absent in the face of Bakugou’s relentless teasing. Sakura narrated each encounter like a sports announcer, keeping a tally of “wins” for Team Papa.
“You’ve gotta keep a sharper eye out, Daddy!” Sakura teased after the fifth ambush. She was sprawled on the floor, laughing so hard she had to hold her sides.
“You’re supposed to be on my side!” Shinsou muttered, adjusting the collar of his sweater like it might somehow shield him from the next attack.
“I’m on the side of comedy gold,” Sakura replied with a grin, giving Toffee a conspiratorial pat.
By the time the final ambush rolled around, Shinsou was thoroughly frazzled. He entered the living room slowly, his sharp eyes scanning for any signs of greenery as if the house itself had conspired against him.
Bakugou lounged on the couch, arms crossed and a smug smirk plastered across his face. “Relax, Toshi,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “You’re safe. For now.”
Shinsou shot him a skeptical look but, deciding to take the bait, sank into the armchair beside the fire. Toffee immediately jumped onto his lap, curling into a tiny, purring ball of gray fluff. Shinsou sighed, scratching behind her ears and letting his head fall back against the chair.
“Finally,” he muttered. “Peace.”
It was, of course, short-lived.
Sakura popped up from behind the couch like a mischievous sprite, holding Marmalade Jr. under one arm and pointing dramatically with her free hand. “Daddy! Look up!”
Shinsou groaned, his shoulders sagging. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered as he tilted his head upward. Sure enough, a sprig of mistletoe dangled from the mantle, tied with a cheery red ribbon. Toffee gave a curious “mew” and flicked her tail.
“Tradition,” Sakura sang, bouncing on her toes. “You know what happens next!”
Bakugou stood slowly, stretching his arms above his head like he had all the time in the world. “You walked right into this one, babe,” he drawled, his voice warm with victory.
Shinsou groaned, hiding his face behind one hand. “This has to be harassment,” he muttered, though the tips of his ears betrayed him, glowing a soft red.
“Call it what you want,” Bakugou said, his smirk widening as he crossed the room. He crouched in front of the chair, resting one arm on the armrest and leaning in until Shinsou could feel his breath against his cheek. “But you know the rules.”
Shinsou peeked at him from behind his fingers, his flustered expression making Bakugou chuckle. “Do you have to get so close?”
“Absolutely,” Bakugou replied, tilting his head. “What’s the matter? Can dish it out but can’t take it?”
Before Shinsou could stammer out a retort, Bakugou leaned in and kissed him. This time, it was softer than all the others—a deliberate, lingering kiss that left Shinsou’s chest feeling tight and warm. His free hand reached out instinctively, gripping the edge of Bakugou’s sweater as his breath hitched.
When Bakugou finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against Shinsou’s for a moment, smirking when he saw just how red his husband’s face had turned.
“You’re impossible,” Shinsou muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
“And you love it,” Bakugou replied, standing up with a satisfied grin.
Sakura, watching from the couch, let out a loud cheer, pumping her fists into the air. “Victory for Team Papa! That was the best one yet!” She shouted before plopping down on the floor and pulling Marmalade Jr. and Toffee into her lap.
Toffee mewed again, almost as if in agreement, while Marmalade Jr., observing from his perch on the bookshelf, let out a long-suffering sigh and flicked his tail.
Sakura held both cats close, grinning as she looked between her dads. “Okay, okay,” she said, her voice brimming with excitement. “It’s family cuddle time!”
“Family what?” Shinsou asked, still recovering from his flustered state.
“No escaping!” Sakura declared, scooping Marmalade Jr. under one arm and Toffee under the other. She marched over to Shinsou and deposited both cats onto his lap before climbing into the armchair herself, squeezing in beside him.
Toffee purred louder, curling into a ball, while Marmalade Jr. let out a long-suffering sigh before resigning himself to the warmth.
Sakura reached out and grabbed Bakugou’s wrist, tugging him toward the chair. “C’mon, Papa! You too!”
Bakugou rolled his eyes but didn’t resist, settling onto the arm of the chair and draping an arm around Shinsou’s shoulders. “You’re getting pushy, sweets,” he muttered, though his tone was warm.
“And you love it,” Sakura shot back, mimicking his earlier words.
Shinsou, still pink-cheeked and slightly overwhelmed by the attention, sighed but leaned into Bakugou’s side, his hand resting on Sakura’s shoulder as she snuggled closer. “You’re all ridiculous,” he said, though the corners of his mouth twitched into a faint smile.
“And you love us,” Bakugou and Sakura said in unison, their matching grins earning a soft laugh from Shinsou.
For a few moments, the family sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of the fire and the soft hum of contentment wrapping around them like a blanket. Marmalade Jr. dozed off despite himself, and Toffee kneaded Shinsou’s sweater with tiny paws before curling tighter against his chest.
Sakura let out a dreamy sigh, resting her head on Shinsou’s arm. “Best Christmas ever,” she murmured.
Shinsou glanced down at her, then at Bakugou, whose smirk had softened into something almost fond. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice filled with warmth. “Best Christmas ever.”