Archive of Our Own

Bakugou Katsuki isn’t good with kids.

Honestly, it’s not really that surprising. His quirk involves creating volatile explosions from his palms and his default emotional setting is unprovoked rage. Generally, not a great mix as he’s learnt over the years - especially not when kids are thrown into the equation.

So, why he’s currently sitting beside his hero partner of three years, Midoriya Izuku, and in a meeting discussing how they’re going to be looking after a four year old full time, on top of hero work, is a mystery to him too.

Before any of this even transpired, Katsuki had been perfectly content with leading a totally child-free, relationship-free lifestyle. In Katsuki’s humble opinion, children are time consuming demons that do nothing but eat all of his food. No, thanks.

Hero life means saving people, it leaves no spare time to nurture and raise someone else.

Katsuki will go as far as to admit that the four year old girl, Ayaka, is a good kid. If you manage to catch him on an especially good day, Katsuki might even claim that she’s one of the few kids that he doesn’t despise.

There’s not much to dislike, even by Katsuki’s standards; she’s polite, sweet and always thinks about others. It’s safe to say that she’s nothing like Katsuki was when he was her age.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to forget the circumstances they met her under.

It was only meant to be a small rescue mission - one so minor it was even cleared for hero agencies to take in order to train their apprentices in the experience of real life missions. Pro heroes Ground Zero and Deku had only taken it because they were patrolling in the area, with nothing better to do.

The file had read the involvement of no civilians documented on site and when the pair arrived on scene, they were initially met with a scenario that corresponded with the reports.

Some small time villain with a totally forgettable quirk was wreaking havoc on an apartment complex in order to get back at his estranged high school girlfriend who’d since moved on.

Typical.

Just the average loser with a quirk thinking he has any power over other people’s lives. These idiots shouldn’t have been given quirks. Talk about weak fucking links.

They’d begun dealing with the threat as necessary, a small job they could get done in ten minutes or less, if luck was on their side.

Unfortunately, luck was on the totally opposite end of the playing field.

From behind the rubble of the crumbling apartment building, a girl surfaced from where she was hiding and conveniently walked straight into the trajectory of Katsuki’s next explosion.

He hadn’t even seen her tiny frame.

If it wasn’t for Izuku screaming his name just in time, Katsuki would’ve accidentally blown her to shreds and shrapnel.

Katsuki remembers the way he had wanted to curse when he saw her. Children are such a liability in hero work. Even if they try to follow normal protocol, things are always more difficult when kids are involved.

No-one wants to traumatise a toddler, even if it means saving their life. Worse, no-one wants to see a kid fucking die. That shit lives on your conscience forever. Katsuki personally knows heroes who’ve succumbed to the onslaught of trauma following freak accidents involving kids.

Not good shit.

The villian seemed to take notice of the child’ presence mere moments after the hero duo. His lips had curled into a wicked smile that triggered the pits of Katsuki’s stomach to curl unpleasantly, blood running cold.

“You’re going to kill me in front of a child?” His voice lilted, clearly believing with total confidence that he’d already won. Katsuki scoffed.

Not a fucking chance.

Katsuki hates villains like this. No shit, they’d rather not scar this kid for life, but they’ve been trained to handle these kinds of situations, regardless of who’s watching. That’s the nature of this line of work, and Katsuki and Izuku are seasoned professionals.

This guy’s a fool for having thought otherwise.

Katsuki growled, ready to just end this guy already, but beside him, Izuku stood utterly still, making no move indicative of an approaching fight. A shiver ran down Katsuki’s spine. Nothing gets you killed quicker than hesistance and Izuku knew that very well.

“Come on, let’s blast this motherfucker to pieces!” Katsuki had yelled, sparks igniting in his palms, trying to prod his partner into action.

Instead, a scarred arm shot out, locking his own in a vice grip. In hindsight, Katsuki had yelled so loud that he’s honestly surprised that he didn’t receive a passionate slap for his efforts. Strangely, Izuku just stood there, eyes transfixed on something just past Katsuki’s line of slight.

“Look.” Izuku had whispered into the cold evening, his grip on Katsuki’s arm almost painful and his tone grave.

Katsuki wasted no time in whipping around, eyebrows knitted in a irritating blend of both confusion and frustration.

He was instantly met with the sight of the villain pointing a threatening hand directly at the little girl, a purple liquid secreting from the tips of his fingers. Katsuki was immediately struck with the sense that he didn’t want to find out just what that substance was capable of, if the way it bubbled and fizzed grotesquely meant anything.

Katsuki had gone dead silent, mouth hung open and eyebrows raised, unwilling to believe the sheer level audacity this small time villain was displaying.

“You don’t wanna do this, asshole.” Katsuki scoffed once again, cracking his neck.

Some of the purple liquid spattered on the floor as the villain turned to respond. Katsuki watched as the concrete corroded rapidly, the acid-like substance morphing it into a sickly green colour.

Following Katsuki’s gaze, the villain was barely able to mask the glee in his tone as the devastating effects of his quirk were brought to fruition. “And why’s that?”

Katsuki pushed his tongue into his cheek, attempting to hold onto the last remnants of his sanity. He cannot afford to lose his job over some miniscule villain.

“I’ll kill you.” He growled, threateningly.

The villain simply laughed mockingly in response, a sound that grated at Katsuki’s nerves and boiled his blood.

He’d long since learnt how to control his wild temper, but he felt the years of practice he’d spent cultivating slipping between the gaps in his fingers. Nothing irritates him more than people not taking him seriously. Katsuki visibly bristled, his calm exterior beginning to fray at the ends.

Suddenly, Izuku was speaking but Katsuki could barely hear him over the blood rushing in his ears.

“He’s not joking.” Izuku warned. “We now have the grounds to take your life if that’s what it takes to save the hostage you’ve decided to take.”

Jubilant, the villain taunted. “You wouldn’t kill me.”

Izuku laughed and it was a dry, sarcastic sound. “It’s unfortunate that you think that. Kacchan’s a lot meaner than I am.”

At that, the villain retaliated like they both knew he would after a little bit of provocation, clearly unappreciative of Izuku’s thinly veiled warning.

A rookie mistake - he lunged towards them first, essentially leaving his back exposed and in turn, the girl was momentarily left out of harm’s way. After that first mistake, it’s over before it even properly starts.

Izuku‘s incapacitated the villain before he even had time to realise what’s happened, and Katsuki sends a tactically aimed explosion at his shins just to spite him for attempting to hurt a child.

While Katsuki’s a firm believer that children are the literal spawn of the devil, they are helpless devil spawn first and foremost. People who try to hurt them are truly the lowest of the fucking low.

Luckily, they find the black haired girl totally unscathed.

(Later in briefing, they find out that the girl was an orphan with no current available carer, since the villain had killed her then guardian in the attack and her biological parents had died in a tragic accident when she was young. Predictably, Izuku had cried upon earning this knowledge.)

-

Though he had tried to mask it after they’d been released from the case and allowed to return home, Katsuki could tell that the situation was lingering on Izuku’s mind.

As hero partners, they’d decided that it would be most practical for them to live together, so Katsuki’s privy to each and every one of Izuku’s habits and usual behaviours that would usually be hidden in the sanctity of his home.

Not that it would take a genius to realise that something was bugging ever bubbly Deku.

At home, he started becoming picky about meals, choosing to brush them off for later, though he could usually eat for an entire army and then some.

He couldn’t concentrate during their weekly movie nights either and Katsuki remembers having to remind Izuku that they were in the middle of watching his favourite movie, even though Izuku could probably quote it word for word on a typical day.

Eventually, Izuku had even started turning down their biweekly sparring sessions and that was breaking point for Katsuki, he had decided. Exactly where else is he supposed to redirect his rage without it resulting in a hefty fine?

No more of this moping, miserable Deku.

Not on Katsuki’s watch.

“Do you need therapy?”

Probably not the best opener, as he quickly comes to find out when Izuku almost kills him by accident.

Predictably, Izuku jumps in nervous surprise, but his hardened survival instincts also trigger simultaneously. As a result, Katsuki ends up narrowly dodging an incoming fist to the face.

(Katsuki makes a mental note to self: don’t corner people when they are in the middle of washing the dishes.)

“What? No! Why?” An indignant Izuku stammers once he realises that Katsuki is not, in fact, a threat.

To be fair, Katsuki hadn’t expected this to be easy.

Contrary to popular belief, for all of the flack that Katsuki catches for his immeasurable levels of pride, Izuku is almost no better. He just hides it well with all of his kindness. Therapy isn’t something pro-heroes are known for accepting without a serious internal struggle beforehand, but it’s a hard job, so Katsuki can’t fault Izuku if that’s what he needs to be better.

Katsuki sighs and Izuku’s eyes are keen on him for an explanation.

“We’re hero partners.” He tries. Izuku’s eyebrow raises in confusion. Katsuki sighs again, a deep rumbling sound. He’s never been good at these sorts of things.

“Look, I’m not here to fucking judge you, Deku, so if you need help you’re going to fucking get it.” Katsuki finally bites out, tone greatly contrasting the true sentiment of his words.

Gaping, Izuku searches for a viable response to this level of uncharacteristic behaviour from his hero partner. “Wha- I don’t know where this is coming from, Kacchan. I’m fine.”

Katsuki almost wants to punch Izuku in his stupidly pretty face for lying to him so outrightly. He had thought they were past this.

“Fine, my ass. All you do is mope around these days. You barely even eat anymore!” Katsuki retorts and Izuku’s eyes fall to the floor, guilty. He’s been caught out.

“I’m so-“ he cuts himself off instantly when he’s met by Katsuki’s piercing glare. He’s not supposed to apologise for things that aren’t his fault any more. They talk now, have mutual discussions. Apologies are given when necessary, not to placate.

“Honestly, Kacchan?” yes, Katsuki thinks, he would appreciate a bit of honesty right now. Izuku takes a deep breath and Katsuki prepares with his bated. “I just can’t stop thinking about that girl, Ayaka.”

A pause.

Deku looks seconds from shitting himself.

Katsuki’s eyebrows furrow, then he’s nodding slowly. “Okay. That settles it, then.”

Frowning, Izuku whines. “What does that mean, Kacchan?”

Katsuki shrugs like the cryptic conclusion he’s come to is glaringly obvious. It is, after all. There’s only one solution to all of Deku’s problems.

“It means you’re going to see her.”

-

Katsuki had called for the visit to be organised in the best interests of both Izuku and the kid’s well-beings. Being Ground Zero, it hadn’t taken long for his request to be approved.

Upon being led into the meeting room and seeing Ayaka, the recent tension in Izuku’s shoulders that Katsuki’s grown far too used to dissipates and Katsuki almost sighs in relief.

He’d expected the hourlong, supervised visit to be a little awkward at the very least, but Izuku had fallen into easy conversation with the kid as if the suited lady from child protective services wasn’t even there, as if he’d been doing this for years.

Ayaka had been relatively quiet, nervous in that way kids typically are after they’ve just been told to be on their best behaviour, but Izuku clearly hadn’t minded in the slightest, considering how he’d gushed about her after the meeting’s conclusion.

Later that evening, Izuku had unexpectedly grabbed his wrist in the hallway as they were getting ready to return to their respective rooms to turn in for the night.

“Thank you, Kacchan. Really.” He’d whispered, eyes twinkling.

Hours later, Katsuki doesn’t lie awake and wrack his brains for more opportunities to see Deku smile like that again.

-

Katsuki had only intended to organise one meeting, simply for Izuku’s peace of mind.

It wasn’t meant to turn into two, then three, then four, but of course Izuku had to go and get fucking attached.

Katsuki is used to saving people. His job is supposed to end there. He’s terribly out of his depth - having never attempted to actually stay in contact with someone he’s saved on a mission.

As a general rule, there aren’t a lot of people he maintains constant relationships with outside of Deku, the other heroes at his agency, his PR team, his parents and Deku’s mom (She makes a point to call Katsuki every week, because she knows Katsuki’s own mom only calls once every year just to make sure her child is still alive).

Now, he’s found himself holding the line with child services.

If you told Katsuki a year ago that he’d be inquiring about the best way to keep in contact with a kid they met literally four months ago, he’d have punched you in the face for talking nonsense in his presence.

Honestly, he doesn’t even know how they’ve managed to squeeze these weekly meetings into their hectic schedule on top of actual work meetings and general hero business.

Izuku’s in front of him, sat at the other side of the table with his head perched in his hands. He’s been listening in on Katsuki’s conversation (or whatever you call being on hold for twenty minutes).

The phone’s on speaker, so Izuku definitely hears the shocking proposition the lady makes when she returns.

“As you know, Ayaka is a vulnerable child. Too many changes in her environment and the adults she interacts with on a personal basis could negatively impact her.” She explains, tone bright and energetic. Katsuki’s impressed; he’s never had a ‘customer service’ voice.

“Over the past four months, you guys have shown serious interest in Ayaka and her wellbeing, so organising some sort of living arrangement in your residence could be an option if you’re willing to look into something more permanent.”

She continues on about the legal requirements they’ll have to meet and other important details that Katsuki barely pays attention to because the blood rushing in his ears is so overwhelming.

Looking at Izuku leaves him momentarily concerned that his hero partner turned housemate is going to experience spontaneous combustion right in front of him.

After blinking once, twice, thrice, Izuku finally gets a hold of his senses and positively leaps out of the chair, running to Katsuki’s side and grabbing the phone out of his hands.

Katsuki mumbles in half hearted protest just to make sure he keeps character, but Izuku doesn’t seem to even hear him. He simply stares at the phone like it’s going to transform into a villain at any moment, before the lady’s voice rings out again and he actually almost drops it.

“Of course, you don’t have to make any decisions now. You can call us whenever you come to a-“

Izuku interrupts the lady, eyes shining with glee. “What do you say, Kacchan?”

“Whatever makes you happy.” Katsuki grunts. If this pleases Deku, he’ll do it. Simple as.

Izuku, however, doesn’t seem to want to accept that for an answer.

“I need to know that you really want this, Katsuki.” He emphasises, placing a warm hand on Katsuki’s shoulder.

As a person who naturally runs warmer than is probably healthy, the weight of Izuku’s hand shouldn’t feel like it sears straight through Katsuki’s clothes.

The rare use of his first name startles Katsuki. Eyebrows furrowing, he can’t help but think that there’s really no need for the grave look in Izuku’s eyes. It’s not like the world is about to collapse. They’re only about to foster a living, breathing child.

It’s not a big deal.

Except it’s the biggest fucking deal Katsuki has ever come across.

They’re heroes, they have no time for endeavours like fucking childcare, yet Katsuki finds himself more perplexed because it takes him almost no time to make his final decision.

Biting the inside of his lip, Katsuki closes his eyes in an attempt to ground himself before he commits to the least thought out decision of his entire life.

“I do.” He finally breathes, and predicable tears instantly fill Izuku’s eyes.

Katsuki resists the sudden, strange urge to wipe them away.

-

A couple background checks later (just because they’re famous heroes, it doesn’t mean shit. Katsuki has seen some shady people pass the hero course with his own two eyes), the pair are approved to proceed with the home and family assessments.

They go pretty well, except for the fact that Katsuki spends the entire time trying his damndest not to blast the social workers to shreds for continuously invading his privacy, because that definitely wouldn’t show up well on the final reports.

The hardest pill to swallow of it all would’ve been being told that they each had to cut their total work hours in half, because as they’re going right now, they barely spend any time at home that isn’t taken up sleeping. Very insufficient hours left for parenting.

Katsuki had signed the part time contract with a heavy heart and Izuku had actually shed tears at the prospect of not being able to protect Japan the way he always envisioned himself to.

One night when Izuku seems to be taking the decision especially hard, Katsuki hears murmuring through the walls. Instantly recognising the muffled sound of Izuku’s mom’s voice streaming through the phone, he opens his eyes.

“Sometimes we have to be a little selfish, Izuku, baby.” Katsuki makes out before Izuku’s sniffles take over once again. After that, the rest of the conversation is intelligible and suddenly not tired anymore, Katsuki flops onto his back.

Throughout his life, Katsuki has been called every single name under the sun, starting with, but certainly not limited to ‘selfish’.

With the way he treated people back then, there’s no doubt that deserved the torrents of names and insults, but if anything, Katsuki had thought that agreeing to look after this child was the most selfless decision he’s ever made in his life.

This whole time he had believed he was doing this entirely for Izuku, but saying that now feels wrong. As hard as it is to admit, he does care about the cute black haired girl they’ve grown to see every week, even if it’s only slightly.

Maybe he is being a little selfish.

And just that that, Bakugou Katsuki technically has a child and Japan’s top two heroes are going part time.

-

As Katsuki had expected, the rumours run totally wild once news breaks out that he and Izuku have unexplainably resigned from half of their duties for the unforseable future.

The whispers range from harmless speculation to downright assumptions. With the way people are talking, you’d think these statements were direct quotes rather than fan theories.

Media outlets claim their sudden disappearance to be caused by a lack of passion, to a rumoured intense disagreement between them, all the way to unexplained mythical illnesses.

Katsuki doesn’t really care about any of that. None it is true, anyway. After all, he’s rather experienced in the art of causing uproar in the media as his PR team’s worst nightmare.

It hasn’t even been four years since the time he caught a lot more heat for punching an invasive reporter in the face, who’d insinuated that he and Izuku were sleeping together and therefore abandoning their duties because of that.

Firstly, Katsuki is a hero before anything else and they’re all just bunch of fucking extras for even thinking that he’d abandon his duties for sex. With stupid Deku, of all people.

Secondly, their sex lives are nobody’s business but their own and Katsuki will always stand firmly by that.

Subsequently, since that incident, Katsuki has received strict restrictions on exactly who he’s allowed to interact with from the press (which is a blessing, honestly), and in turn, the extras with the flashing cameras and looming microphones are a lot more careful with what they choose to imply and who’s private lives they go barging into.

Katsuki’s grateful for those newly established boundaries, because it’s their first official night with Ayaka and he doesn’t feel like punching any reporters today. (Not to mention the fact that a semblance of privacy should have been the bare minimum right from the jump, but Katsuki can’t be mad all the time.)

Izuku has been nervous wreck since the sun went down yesterday evening - pacing around the apartment countless times to make sure everything truly is baby-proofed, rereading the document the agency had sent with Ayaka’s likes, dislikes, intolerances and allergies attached so many times that Katsuki himself could probably recite it from memory.

He’d even cried today over the possibility of Ayaka not liking the colour they’d decided to paint the walls in her room.

The waterworks start again and Katsuki doesn’t even look up from his book, instead just chucking a box of handy tissues in Izuku’s general direction from where he’s sitting on the couch.

“I can guarantee you that she won’t give a fuck. She’s four.” He deadpans.

Izuku only considers this for a moment, before his eyebrows crease. “But what if her bed isn’t comfortable?”

Katsuki puts his phone down and turns to face his hero partner properly. Izuku’s twinkly eyes are swollen and teary.

“Listen, shitty Deku.” He growls. “Ayaka isn’t like the rest of the demon spawn you know. She’ll fucking love it and even if she doesn’t, she probably won’t say anything, she’s that shy.”

“But, Kacchan~ I don’t want her to not say anything.” Izuku whines, throwing himself on the couch beside where Katsuki is sitting. He rolls his eyes. At least Izuku sounds a lot less like his pet fish just died and much more excited now.

To be honest, Katsuki is rather excited himself.

-

As Katsuki had predicted, Ayaka is terribly shy.

She’d been quiet since they’d picked her up from the children’s home and hadn’t really spoken much in the car, unless she was politely answering Izuku’s questions.

Admittedly, the silence is slightly jarring because Katsuki had thought the three of them were forming quite the bond over the the weekly meetings, but maybe it’s the change of environment that’s keeping Ayaka so silent.

Luckily, Izuku’s nerves had dissipated as soon as he’d seen Ayaka, making way for a huge grin instead that stays plastered on his face even as they’re making their way home.

In the backseat, Ayaka stares out at the passing cars and scenery until Izuku finally pulls up outside their apartment complex.

Ayaka spends the entirety of the short journey to the front door looking around with wide eyes, probably surprised at how wide and spacious everything is. Katsuki is not ashamed to admit that they certainly live on the nicer side of Tokyo.

Once the door’s unlocked, Izuku wastes no time in ushering Ayaka into the house, eager to show her the room they’ve designed for her. It’s themed blue and pink, reminiscent of her favourite colours, and Katsuki thinks that shopping for all of the furniture was the most quality time he’d spent with Izuku in months.

Suddenly alone in the hallway, Katsuki takes a deep breath.

Out of nowhere, all of the mandatory training sessions the agency had forced them to take mean absolutely nothing and Katsuki realises that he has no idea how to parent, or even accommodate for a child in his general life. Simply being here when Ayaka is also here feels weird, different.

Down the hall, he can hear Izuku’s excitable voice and the faint sound of Ayaka’s laughter.

It’s a nice sound, he thinks as he walks towards the kitchen, wordlessly accepting cooking duty tonight since Izuku can only make about a handful of meals that will turn out edible at least seven times out of ten, and none of them are anything to write home about. He’d like to feed this child something that won’t kill her, at least.

Still, Katsuki has to award Izuku credit for improvement since the time he’d actually managed to set the kitchen on fire trying to fry an egg. Thinking about the repair and renovation prices still gets Katsuki’s gears turning, up to now.

Katsuki’s well into the swing of things by the time Izuku and Ayaka join him in the kitchen, curious eyes overseeing his movements.

“What are you making?” Izuku asks, leaning against the kitchen counter after he deposits Ayaka on it.

“That chicken stew your mom used to make.“ He grunts, watching the contents of the pot fizzle.

Ayaka gasps from where she’s sitting with her legs dangling off of the edge of the counter and both Katsuki and Izuku turn to her in question.

She sinks into herself slightly under their strong gazes, as shy as ever.

“I like chicken.“ She finally admits, voice hushed like she’s spilling a terrible secret.

Izuku laughs pleasantly, amused, and something about the domesticity of the scene is doing something weird to Katsuki’s stomach. It’s not like he can name the feeling for the life of him because he still struggles to identify emotions that don’t fall under the realm of anger.

“Kacchan knows you do, sweetheart.” Izuku smiles. “That’s why he’s making it just for you.”

Ayaka returns the smile cutely, clearly satisfied, and Katsuki finds himself smiling too.

He clears his throat.

“Just so you know, my fried rice is a lot better than the shit they used to give you at that place.” Katsuki says bluntly and promptly walks into a torrent of accusing looks from none other than Midoriya Izuku.

“Kacchan! Language!” Izuku reprimands, instinctively moving to cover Ayaka’s impressionable ears.

“Shit, sorry.”

A moment passes.

That’s not how it was meant to come out.

He takes one look at Izuku and is met with a scalding glare.

“Sorry.” He repeats, averting eye contact and guiltily returning his attention to his pot.

Katsuki hasn’t sat around a dinner table in a long while. In fact, it’s been so long that Katsuki doesn’t think he remembers the last time he’s had a meal in the presence of another person during normal waking hours. Nothing fucks with your schedule like hero life.

On the opposite end of the table, Izuku engages in conversation with both him and Ayaka, who’s almost finished her entire bowl. Inwardly, Katsuki flushes with pride — Ayaka’s a picky eater, so Katsuki thinks he’s accomplished an incredible feat.

“What do you want to call Kacchan and I, sweetheart?” Izuku asks gently when they’re all just about finished, placing his utensils on the table. It’s then when Katsuki realises that Ayaka never really calls them anything. Huh, he’d never noticed.

Looking up from her bowl, Ayaka shrugs meekly, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Katsuki. He frowns. It’s reminicient of their first interactions.

“You know you don’t have to be scared of me, Ayaka.” Katsuki says with his best efforts to sound soothing, yet it still must come off slightly threatening because the girl cowers momentarily.

Then, she straightens.

“I’m not scared of you, Ojisan.” She says resolutely, forcing an unexpected snort out of Izuku, while Katsuki truly feels his blood pressure surge to dangerous heights.

“Hah?! Ojisan?” Katsuki almost yells and Izuku barely even flinches; he’s more than used to Katsuki’s sudden, deafening outbursts.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, Ayaka’s eyes widen and she turns to Izuku, voice innocently sweet. “I’m sorry, Zuku-san, I didn’t mean to upset Ojisan.”

Katsuki almost can’t believe the blatant discrimination taking place right in front of him and he certainly lets his views be known, protesting in indignation. “Why does he get to be called Zuku-san? I’m only twenty four, kid.”

Typical to his heartless character, Izuku laughs at Katsuki’s misery, therefore providing grounds for Ayaka - an easily swayed child - to join in. Talk about setting a bad example.

In that moment, Katsuki has the terrible feeling that he will suffer terrible injustices in this household.

-

In the evening, getting ready for bed runs smoother than expected.

In training, they had advised the pair to leave her plenty of space to sleep by herself, but to also be prepared for the unfamiliar environment to cause nightmares and discomfort, especially when her history is taken into account.

Surprisingly, Ayaka manages to fall asleep pretty easily, as Katsuki learns when he goes to check on her through the crack of her open door ten minutes after tucking her in.

When he reports back to Izuku, the smile he’s graced with is one of subtle relief. He’d been worried.

Combined with all of the nerves from earlier, that same worry seems to have tired Izuku out, so once they make sure Ayaka‘s comfortable enough to sleep peacefully, he plops onto the couch and proceeds not to move a single muscle, while Katsuki trudges around in search of the remote.

“If you would get your ass off of that couch, maybe we’d find the remote quicker.” Katsuki grumbles half-heartedly. In response, Izuku smiles guiltily and Katsuki waves him off; he has no real intention to make Izuku get up from where he seems so relaxed. They’ve had a long day.

If Izuku shuffles closer to Katsuki’s side of the couch when they’ve finally settled to watch some shitty late night tv programme, he doesnt comment. He’d never admit it out loud, but Izuku’s always been dependent on physical contact in order to unwind after a taxing day and as per his duties as a good roommate - Katsuki’s learnt to adapt to his needs.

They’re engrossed in watching an intense argument unfold between celebrities who know more money than the pair of them ever will, when the door creaks open slightly and Ayaka’s tiny frame emerges from the shadows.

Izuku sits up immediately, face scrunched up in concern. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Fiddling with the end of her sleeve, Ayaka makes eye contact with the pair, mumbling cutely and Katsuki literally sees Izuku melt. “I can’t sleep.”

Katsuki thinks for a moment, before patting the newly created space between the two of them. “C’mere.” He grunts, successfully grabbing Ayaka’s attention.

When she clambers between the two of them, Katsuki realises that he feels a lot more comfort from watching tv in the middle of the night with the two of them than he’s willing to readily admit.

-

Completely in line with her character, Inko raises utter sweet toned, guilt trippy hell until Izuku finally gives in and allows her to visit. As expected, she takes the permission and runs with it, dragging Katsuki’s own parents along with her to meet Ayaka for the first time.

They weren’t the only ones to express interest, with both Todoroki and Uraraka eager to bring their entire weight’s worth of child themed gifts, yet Izuku chooses to hold off because he doesn’t want it to be too overwhelming for Ayaka, who’s only really been with them for two days now.

Katsuki barely gets a word of greeting out before Inko’s already making a beeline straight to the kitchen, unloading her bag filled with various ingredients.

She feeds them until they’re stuffed, Ayaka especially so. Katsuki learnt a very long time ago that this is her prime expression of love.

“I still can’t believe you’ve already made me a grandmother.” Mitsuki reminds him for the nth time since they’d sat around this damn table.

“What’s the big deal? You’re old, anyway.” Katsuki mutters under his breath when his mom shakes her head in disbelief.

Eyes flashing with violence, his mother springs from her seat to grab him in a deceivingly tight chokehold. Katsuki now sees where he gets his physical ability from. “I’m only forty seven, kid!”

-

It’s incredibly hard to get used to spending so much time at home.

Yes, Katsuki’s physically itching to occupy himself by doing something - whether that be sparring, working out, or fighting in general - but admittedly, it’s not all bad.

As he’s come to find out, Katsuki kind of likes being able to see his home in the daylight, instead of stumbling around in semi darkness at ass o’clock in the morning after a long shift.

In all honesty, Katsuki is sort of ashamed that it took him being literally forced to stay here at all times to realise how nice their place truly is. What Izuku lacks in culinary skills, he certainly makes up for in home decor.

Aside from the general cohesion of their furniture pieces (courtesy of none other than Izuku, of course), the apartment is scattered with tiny little trinkets that Izuku simply doesn’t have the heart to throw away, for fear of losing the sentiment attached to each novelty. Katsuki had never realised how large of an impact each of them had making the place feel like home.

Even though they’ve suddenly been gifted tons of extra time that would’ve otherwise been spent training, they seldom find themselves bored. Namely because there’s now a tiny human running around, where there previously was none.

Over the course of a couple days, Ayaka loosens up considerably. Ever so slowly, they begin to see glimmers of the Ayaka they’d become inseparable with during their weekly meetings.

Like now, where where she’s lying on the floor and playing with a set of crayons.

“Ojisan, do you like my drawing?”

A wide, hopeful eyed Ayaka hold her sheet up at Katsuki, who’s perched on the couch with a book in his hands.

Two shapeless blobs take up most of the space and judging from the orange and green colour scheme, Katsuki can assume with relative confidence that the shapeless blobs are meant to be he and Izuku.

Though Katsuki can’t say he definitely knows exactly what he’s looking at, he sends her an encouraging thumbs up regardless. Had it been any other child on the planet, Katsuki would’ve been happy to tell them exactly what he thought of their drawing, yet he finds himself dashing his past values just to see the little girl smile.

Ayaka flushes with pride, then clumsily makes to stand up, muttering something about going to show ‘Zuku-san’.

As he watches Ayaka’s tiny frame disappear down the hallway, Katsuki realises in muted horror that he’s allowed a kid to turn him soft.

-

Sure enough, the laws of the universe can’t allow the pair of them rest for too long, and soon the time for Ayaka to enrol in a new school comes around.

But before all of that, more exhilarating legalities must be sorted out (if the sarcasm wasn’t already glaringly obvious, Katsuki can be clearer for those who may misunderstand - he is about three seconds from blowing every single courtroom in existence to pieces).

Since their current situation falls more closely along the lines of foster care, the pair of them have been advised to look into becoming her official legal guardians before school starts so that things are easier down the road when she has to start registering for immunisations, passports and everything else that is both essential and unnecessarily complicated.

Contrary to what Katsuki had expected of the process to entail, it’s incredibly stressful.

Just when he thought he’d gotten over the trauma of having unfamiliar extras in his home every fucking week, a new batch of social workers are tasked with assessing their home, once again.

This time, the visits are accompanied by court hearings, which are even more taxing and even nerve-wracking than the previous ones regarding residency alone.

Considering their young ages of only twenty four, the fact that they aren’t even in a relationship, and that their general circumstances aren’t those of typical parents, there stands a very good chance that their request will be denied by the court.

(The possibility terrifies Katsuki almost as much as it does Izuku, but he does his best to provide enough optimism for the both of them. Even if that means staying up the whole night with Izuku and assessing every single possibility, best case scenario, and worst case scenario.)

Yet, with every hearing with the adoption panel that passes, things begin looking up. When the email finally comes that they’ve been approved, they’re so caught off guard that they hug for the first time in three years and the second time ever.

(No, Katsuki doesn’t freak out. Don’t even try it.)

Surprisingly, applying for the actual court order ends up being the easiest part of the process.

The only dilemma arises when they have to choose whose last name Ayaka will adopt. The entire thing blows over pretty quickly though, seeing as the Bakugous are prideful creatures who want to keep family name alive and Izuku isn’t really picky in situations like these.

Now, Bakugou Katsuki actually has a child.

And, the other parent is Deku.

What the fuck.

-

Predictably, Izuku turns into a total mess of nerves and chaos on the morning of Ayaka’s first day of preschool.

What isn’t predictable, however, is the fact that Katsuki isn’t too far off himself.

He’s driving, yet his mind is elsewhere, dwelling on the fact that are just too many unknowns in this entire situation for his liking.

Outside of work because his quirk doesn’t really allow for it, Katsuki likes order and when things fit neatly into schedules. None of this does any of that: What if the environment is too overwhelming for her? What if he’s busy blasting a villain to pieces and he gets a call requiring his presence at the daycare?

Katsuki grips the wheel tighter, willing his brain to stop adopting Deku stressing habits.

In the backseat, Ayaka’s staring out of the window, apparently devoid of any of the worry Katsuki and Izuku are currently being tormented with. To be a kid again, Katsuki sighs.

To his left, Izuku fumbles around in the bag he’s packed for Ayaka. “Have you got your water? What about your sunscreen?” He asks, considerably calmer than he was when they were about to leave.

Ayaka nods to all of Izuku’s questions.

Katsuki gives her a steel look in the overhead mirror. “Hey, if anyone gives you problems, tell them Ground Zero’s going to come and kick their ass.”

Izuku jokingly slaps Katsuki’s thigh. “Kacchan! Language! And don’t threaten four year olds.”

At that, Ayaka’s high pitched laughter rings out and then they’re all laughing. Katsuki’s heart squeezes with something he struggles to place, yet again.

They arrive at Ayaka’s new school with ten precious minutes to spare, and are positively surrounded by an ocean of tiny preschoolers chattering amongst each other as their parents walk them into school.

Both Katsuki and Izuku had sworn not to become those parents that cry on their child’s first day of school (read: Katsuki had threatened Izuku with capital murder if a he’s to even catch a glimpse of a single tear), but Katsuki won’t lie and say he doesn’t feel anything as he watches Ayaka shuffle into the building.

He’ll never admit it to Izuku, though.

-

Being home at the same time as Izuku for an extended period of time is strange, for want of a better word.

They’re always busy doing something, whether they’re on duty, in meetings or catching up with family. Now that they have an entire child on their hands, things are definitely never quiet anymore. They don’t do much but sleep here, to be honest.

It’s nice, having a break. Their lives are so fast paced that they don’t often realise how much they miss out on.

It’s the little things that he notices the most.

For example, Katsuki doesn’t remember the last time he ate lunch at home. To be completely honest, he doesn’t even remember the last time he ate at the table before Ayaka came around.

Yet, here he is, eating a warm lunch in the comfort of his own home with his housemate.

Katsuki thinks he likes this - there’s almost no semblance of normality in their lives, so even the mere sound of Izuku pattering around the house is comforting in a sense that Katsuki can’t explain.

It feels like home.

-

When the time finally comes for them to pick Ayaka up from school - they weren’t waiting or anything, but the house was frankly a lot quieter than it had been for the past few weeks - she’s excitable and bubbly.

Ayaka is telling them stories about her new teacher and her new classmates as soon as she steps foot in the car, brimming with things to say. Katsuki likes seeing her with so much energy.

She’s especially enthusiastic about Eri and Kouta, who are apparently two best friends that let her into their friendship pretty quickly. Something in Katsuki settles when he hears this; he’d been worried about Ayaka struggling to make friends, considering her quiet nature and earlier traumatic experiences.

It doesn’t take long for Ayaka to tire out however, and soon the only sound in the car is the quiet rumbling of the engine as both Izuku and Ayaka occupy themselves with watching the passing scenery.

Katsuki only notices that she’s fallen asleep when he spots her in the rear view mirror, and the sight of her so peaceful subsequently fills his heart with an emotion that isn’t on his complex irritation scale for once.

-

Today, at dinner, Ayaka talks a lot more and Izuku is visibly pleased.

(He stays grinning long after Ayaka goes to sleep, and Katsuki doesn’t even have the heart to cuss him out for forgetting to wash the dishes.)

(He just makes sure to do it the next morning, with added intensity to compensate for the delay.)

-

The agency grants them another week off so that Ayaka can fully settle in, and their relationship progression during that week is outstanding, if Katsuki does say so himself.

They become more familiar with constantly having a child in the midst, gradually understanding her characteristic quirks (pun unintended; she’s still a little young), what she likes to eat and what she doesn’t, when she doesn’t like something but is too polite to say to.

They become accustomed to thinking about another person in all of their decisions, like when Katsuki automatically finds himself going to the kids section when scouring for their newest candidate for their weekly movie night.

Tonight, he picks a shitty animation with a subpar plot that both Izuku and Ayaka eat up anyway.

Katsuki will never understand how Izuku can find so much joy in watching fake superheroes do all of the shit he does himself on a daily basis. Actually being a hero completely dissolves the wow factor for Katsuki. He will admit that it’s as cool as the movies make it out to be at least half of the time.

Still, it’s nice to see the twinkle in both of their eyes grow as the movie continues, and seeing them so invested brings a slight smile to his face.

Katsuki finds himself thinking that maybe having to spend the next few years watching countless b-list animated films isn’t all bad.

-

Izukus nothing short of a good parent.

He blends into the new responsibilities like he’s been caring for children his entire life, in a way that almost makes Katsuki jealous.

Sure, Ayaka loves watching Katsuki cook and she’ll clap excitedly whenever he lets her stir, but Izuku’s way with kids is incomparable.

He thinks about all of the times he’s walked in on Ayaka and Izuku after having fallen asleep in the middle of a movie, her little head of black hair sprawled across Izuku’s shoulder. He still marvels at the way Izuku takes Ayaka’s enthusiatic stories with grace, reacting with exaggerated facial expressions that never fail to make the little girl keel over in laughter.

Katsuki thinks that maybe Izuku inherited these skills from his mother.

He remembers Inko being kind and gentle in the same way Izuku is now from when they were still children, whereas his house was the epitome of tough love. It’s probably why current Katsuki expresses affection in such alternative ways.

He’s not yet used to the concept of caring for a human that constantly needs love, affection and attention to simply survive, but he’ll admit that it’s easier with Ayaka.

Katsuki doesn’t think about what he’s doing when he grabs Ayaka’s hand to hold when they’re in public, he just does it. It’s not like he’s running calculations in his head when he lets Ayaka sit in his lap to show him something, he just lets her.

Put simply, he does whatever makes her smile.

(If whatever makes Ayaka smile also makes Izuku smile, that’s just a byproduct.)

As all good things do, their week of domestic bliss eventually comes to an end and they’re soon back to being pro heroes.

It’s what they’ve been doing for the past four years and what they’ve dreamed of since they were toddlers, but every mission feels different now. It goes without saying that Katsuki still loves his job, he would still die for his job, but it feels like there’s a lot more at stake.

Don’t get him wrong; it’s most certainly a good thing.

It’s grounding; in the aspect that Katsuki feels like he has a lot more to live for.

Both Izuku and his PR team would also agree that it is a very good thing; they have to spend a lot less on repairment costs and Izuku has to make far less apologies on Katsuki’s behalf because he is suddenly a lot more careful with his quirk.

Ayaka stays at Inko’s or Mitsuki’s when they both have work, or sometimes Uraraka and Iida’s when the couple aren’t working themselves.

Returning to work has also taught Katsuki to re-appreciate the value of time spent at home.

Before, when his eagerness to return home had only been because of his bed, now he’s willing to admit that he rushes Izuku along on their patrol routes just so they can spend more time with Ayaka at home. (Katsuki knows - he’s making himself sick, too.)

Katsuki begins to think about how much he actually cares for Ayaka, who’s currently receiving help from Izuku to complete a quiz sheet on simple addition, and deduces that it is a very scary amount, considering the fact that they met the kid not even a year ago.

He’s so fucked.

-

Sure enough, the day Katsuki commits the worst (arguably, best) mistake of his life had begun pretty normally.

He’d woken up, worked out, eaten, woken Ayaka up, bided Izuku goodbye since he was leaving earlier today, gotten Ayaka ready for school, dropped her off at school, then went to work.

All in all a pretty average day.

Until, he decides to use a window of time has in his schedule to do some household shopping before he has to meet Izuku for patrol.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t stopped to think about what spotting Ground Zero, in his hero costume, checking out booster seats for preschoolers would look like to the general public.

His trained senses don’t allow him to not notice the brown haired lady that’s been following him throughout the store for the past ten minutes, but he doesn’t pay her any mind. He just wants to purchase his car seat and go.

Not on her watch, apparently. Katsuki’s eyes narrow as the lady very conspicuously attempts to casually sidle up to Katsuki like she hadn’t been trailing him the entire time.

“So, who’s the lucky lady?” She drawls, flashing him a money winning smile.

The lanyard around her neck reveals her to be with some sort of press company. Katsuki closes his eyes and attempts to relax. It doesn’t work.

He pokes his tongue in his cheek, an action which Izuku has previously said is typically the only warning sign before Katsuki opens his mouth and all hell breaks loose.

Appropriately, all hell proceeds to break loose.

“There is no lady.” He snarls. He fucking hates the press. “And I’m sure Deku would also appreciate if you kept your fucking noses out of our child’s business.”

The woman gapes and Katsuki’s cheeks turn hot as he realises exactly how the words sound as soon as they leave his lips, but it’s not like he can unsay them now. It’s already out there, there’s no point in regretting it.

He just walks away, wondering how the hell he’s going to deal with the headache that comes when the reporter undoubtedly misconstrues his words.

-

Both his Izuku and his PR team work hand in hand to make sure he fully regrets it.

As of right now, Katsuki’s has been grilled for a straight hour and a half by management, spent the entire journey home being grilled by his mother over the phone - who never calls, mind you - and is now being grilled by his hero partner in the kitchen.

Katsuki’s sat in one of the bar stools, while Izuku paces in front of him, looking two seconds from wrangling Katsuki right where he sits.

“Kacchan, why would you say that?” Izuku hisses, voice just below the threshold of shouting because Ayaka is meant to be asleep, after all. “Now, everyone thinks we’re married.”

He has a point; the articles were posted only an hour ago and he and Izuku are already trending on every platform imaginable.

“Let them.” Katsuki says simply, even though this is the furthest thing from a simple situation. It’s certainly not because he likes the thought of people thinking that, for some reason.

Izuku’s eyes bulge in disbelief but before he can scold Katsuki for his reckless behaviour, the sound of quiet footsteps draws their attention away from each other and towards the door, where a sleepy Ayaka stands, rubbing at her eyes.

“Why are you guys fighting?” She pouts, making eyes between the two of them, and Katsuki literally sees Izuku’s heart crack down the middle.

“We’re not fighting, sweetheart.” Izuku crouches, tucking a strand of hair behind Ayaka’s ear. He then gives Katsuki a very pointed look above her head. “Your Ojisan is just very silly, that’s all.“

Later, Katsuki walks past Ayaka’s room to see her tucked underneath protectively Izuku’s arm while he reads her a storybook. He watches in the doorway for a bit, realises what he’s doing is slightly creepy, then makes his way to his own room.

(Albeit reluctantly, but Katsuki won’t ever say that aloud).

-

Izuku ends up being right.

Katsuki is very, very silly.

It’ll look bad, they had said. People will talk.

Those are the grounds of reasoning management gives them when they come up with the ridiculous request for them to keep up the couple facade.

Katsuki will admit; he fucked up. People will question why two male and unmarried pro-heroes decided to adopt a child out of nowhere. But, this, this is outlandish.

This totally violates their boundaries of being strictly hero partners and co-parents. The very boundaries Katsuki has been relying on to keep his heart in check. Yet, as much as logical Katsuki can list thousands of reasons why this is a terrible idea, the rest of him doesn’t care. Which is strange, because he typically cares a lot, about a lot of different things.

For the grief he had given him earlier, Izuku takes the entire situation in his stride.

Following the advice management had given them, whenever they know that they’re being watched in public, Katsuki will slot an arm around Izuku’s waist - while trying to ignore the fact that the warmth of Izuku’s skin feels like it sears through Katsuki’s clothes - and in turn, Izuku will play up the theatrics. He always effortlessly switches back to hero partner Izuku when they reach the comfort of their own home, and Katsuki feels like he can never keep up.

Sometimes, Izuku will grab his wrist to direct them through the grocery store, or he’ll look up at him with those big eyes when they’re standing face to face. Whenever that happens, it always feels like the world around them just stops.

Katsuki thinks that he likes the height difference.

-

When Katsuki had first introduced Ayaka to the wonders of FaceTime one night when she was particularly missing Izuku, he hadn’t expected her to become so taken with the app.

It’s to the point where she’ll even steal Katsuki’s phone, just to dial the green haired man.

This time, Katsuki dials Izuku himself, after valiantly putting up with Ayaka’s begging for the past hour. He’s sitting on the couch with Ayaka perched on his lap, holding the phone out in front of the both of them.

“Hi, Kacchan, hi, baby.” Izuku greets when the call connects. He’s in their usual break room at the agency, blazer discarded and green tie loosened. Katsuki thinks he can hear their colleagues in the background.

“Hey.” Katsuki returns as Ayaka waves cutely at the camera.

“What are you guys doing?” Izuku asks.

Katsuki flips the camera to where the tv is showing some children’s show they were watching. He responds. “We’re watching tv.”

“Oh, okay.” Izuku hums. “Have you guys eaten yet?”

Ayaka nods enthusiastically. “Ojisan made me passa.”

Katsuki stifles a bark of laughter as he watches Izuku’s face contort in amused confusion. “Kacchan made you what?”

“Passa.”

“Pasta, Ayaka.” Katsuki clarifies.

“Passa.” She repeats, intonation stronger this time. Her efforts amount to the same result and she furrows her eyebrows cutely when the syllables still refuse to come out as she intends. The perfectionist in her reminds Katsuki of he and Izuku when he they were younger and dreaming of bright futures.

“I can’t do it.” She huffs, dejected. “Sorry Zuku-san.”

“It’s okay, baby.” Izuku coos. “How was the pasta? Ojisan didn’t try to poison you while I’m not there, did he?”

Katsuki’s ears perk up at the nickname. “Hah!? Not you too.” He groans, and Izuku just laughs. Turning to Ayaka, he prompts. “Tell him, baby girl. It was good, wasn’t it?”

Honestly, Katsuki’s not quite sure how or when he’d started calling her that but it’s definitely stuck and Ayaka seems to like it. He pictures Shitty Hair hearing the nickname come from his mouth and cringes.

Ayaka grins. “It was good, Zuku-san!”

Eyebrows furrowed, Izuku prods. “Are you sure, Ayaka? You don’t have to lie to me.”

Interrupting, Katsuki affirms. “Of course she’s sure, you ass.”

“Language, ojisan!”

“Language, Kacchan!”

Oops.

-

As a general rule, Katsuki only allows himself to meet Eijirou, Mina, Kaminari and Sero for drinks twice every month. Not just for his physical health, but because he knows exactly how wild those idiots he calls friends can get.

Like now, for example, where Kaminari is steadily approaching his fifth glass of god knows what kind of poison he likes to drink, and is currently gushing out of his ass about a Shinsou Hitoshi who apparently works at Endeavour’s agency.

“He’s just so amazing, y’know.” Kaminari continues his ten minute and running rant. “I’ve never met anyone like him.”

Mina sighs. “Denks, please stop being so violently single.”

“That’s easy for you to say! It’s no fun, being friends with you guys.” Kaminari pouts, crossing his arms petulantly. “You have Kiri, Bakugou has Midoriya and Ayaka, yet here I am, lonely and in love.”

Katsuki doesn’t even get the chance to correct Kaminari about him and Deku being in a fucking relationship of all fucking things when Sero protests, indignantly.
“I’m single, too.”

“Yeah, but you aren’t in love.” Kaminari whines dramatically, before downing the rest of his drink. Katsuki mentally prepares himself to drag at least three of his friends home, tonight. He hopes Eijirou will stay sober enough to at least remain coherent.

“Y’know, on that topic - how’s the married life treating you, Bakugou?”

His heart stutters.

“Fuck off.” Katsuki bites with enough venom to make a grown man faint. Completely desensitised to Katsuki’s frequent displays of anger, none of his friends even blink.

“We’re just kidding.” Mina laughs.

They’re all well aware of the fact that what Katsuki and Izuku are doing is essentially just an embellished PR stunt, but that doesn’t mean they’ll miss a single opportunity to put Katsuki through the wringer about it.

“Seriously, though, sometimes it looks so real.” Sero marvels out loud, and Katsuki shoots him a piercing glare in response. He feels transparent, all of a sudden.

“Well, it isn’t. So drop it, assholes.” Katsuki says, ignoring the way his heart feels like it’s mere moments from beating out of his chest.

Because it isn’t real, after all.

“How did you even become a parent, anyways? I never thought Bakugou would have kids before any of us.”

Predictably, they get distracted with another topic and Katsuki’s finally allowed reprise. It doesn’t matter that he’s already told them the story several times each.

“It’s a long story and it’s fucking complicated, so stop asking. I’ve already told half of you anyway.”

It’s not at all like Katsuki spends the rest of the night replaying their conversation in his head, even as he’s dragging a piss drunk Mina into her home.

sometimes it looks so real.

Katsuki ignores the little voice in his head saying that just maybe, he wishes it was.

Because deep down, he knows accepting that opens up a whole new world of uncharted territory.

And for a pro hero, Katsuki doesn’t like exploring all that much.

-

It’s a lovely Saturday morning when Bakugou Katsuki almost loses his life. Surprisingly, the cause is completely unrelated to his hero activities.

Instead it comes in the form of a four year old girl who likes chicken and colouring.

“Zuku-san?” Ayaka calls from where she’s lying on the floor with her coloured pens in disarray around her. Katsuki’s on his laptop, reading about the outcome of a case involving a villain he’d apprehended a couple weeks back, while simultaneously watching over the child.

All the way in the kitchen, Izuku hums in response.

He’s busy cutting some vegetables, but the door’s open wide enough for them to talk. He can’t cook for shit, but he does his best to pack bentos for Ayaka and Katsuki when he has time or if Katsuki hasn’t already done so.

The bomb drops.

“What does ‘shit’ even mean?”

The metallic sound of Izuku’s knife clattering to the countertop reverberates throughout the apartment.

In that moment of utter silence, Katsuki judges that he has at least half a second to escape the devastation of Izuku’s wrath.

(Spoiler alert: he fails.)

-

It all comes crashing down when Ayaka gets sick.

It starts off with three days of sniffles, heightened tears and general listlessness.

Katsuki very quickly finds out that if Ayaka’s sick, she doesn’t sleep and if she can’t sleep, she’s apparently dead set on making sure Katsuki won’t either. Not that he would while his child’s in pain, of course. If he wasn’t so sleep deprived and occupied with bigger concerns, he’d probably be freaking out over the fact that he just called Ayaka his child.

She comes to his room in the middle of the night, standing in the doorway, lip trembling as she complains of a agonising headache.

“Hey, baby girl,” Katsuki soothes, still half asleep. “What’s wrong?”

When he‘s met with no response, Katsuki opens his arms groggily for Ayaka to climb into bed with him, but once she gets under the sheets, she starts fidgeting around incessantly, eventually managing to work herself up to the point of tears.

It hurts seeing her so uncomfortable.

Katsuki tries everything to soothe her, but the tears keep flowing. He’s beginning to feel his own headache developing. Upon calling his mother for advice, she’d advised him to give her some weak painkillers to help her get through the night. Izuku’s phone, however, was going straight to voicemail.

Katsuki’s left alone to deal with this.

Izuku’s been away on work meetings every day this week as a result of a big villain takedown, some of them lasting over a course of two long days where he won’t even come home in the evenings. Ayaka’s mood certainly isn’t improved by Izuku’s constant absence, either. Katsuki hopes he’ll be back tomorrow.

After Katsuki gives her some of the children’s medicine Izuku had preemptively bought a few weeks back, Ayaka finally relaxes enough to catch a few hours of rest, and Katsuki soon follows suit.

-

Ayaka remains difficult for the entire time that the two of them have the apartment to themselves, only calming down when Izuku’s meetings finally come to a close.

Until then, she refuses to eat until Katsuki gets Izuku on the phone, refuses to brush her teeth because it takes too much energy out of her, refuses to sleep because her headache stops her from settling.

Instead, she just cries.

She cries until her throat is hoarse, until Katsuki can tell it actually begins to hurt.

Still, there’s nothing Katsuki can do to ease her discomfort.

She normally likes physical contact but she pushes Katsuki off every time he tries to hold her, so he gives up pretty quickly. On one occasion, he even tries to tell her stories to help her drift off (which his gruff voice is definitely not suited for) but she can barely concentrate on his words.

Katsuki feels like he’s going insane.

Izuku finally arrives home late one night, when Ayaka’s already long asleep after yet another bout of uncontrollable tears, only worsened by Katsuki losing his temper with her.

Needless to say, Katsuki’s already set on edge, and Izuku doesn’t help his own case when he walks in, tone bright and cheery like Katsuki hasn’t put up with living hell alone, on top of stupid fucking paperwork, for the entire week.

“How’s my angel?” Izuku chirps happily, probably satisfied after a largely productive week. Katsuki wishes he could be happy for him, but the culmination of sleep deprivation and the effect of having a constant crying ringing in his ears sends irritation coursing thickly through his veins when Izuku speaks.

Katsuki scoffs sarcastically, and his tone is far too bitter for it his next words to come off like the joke they normally would be under any other circumstance. “She hasn’t been much of an angel, recently.”

Izuku pauses and his smile falters at Katsuki’s more irritated than usual display. “Don’t talk about her like that, Kacchan. She’s a good kid.”

At that, something in Katsuki snaps and the barrage of clipped words come tumbling out, mixed with frustrated expletives and curses. “You haven’t fucking been here, Deku, how the fuck would you know?”

Eyes wide, Izuku takes a step back. Always so fucking clueless. “What? Where’s this coming from?”

Katsuki hates that he looks so confused, so hurt. For all of his physical brawn, Izuku is as soft as anything.

“‘Where’s this coming from?’” Katsuki repeats still, incredulous, unable to stop himself. “I’m so fucking tired, Deku! I haven’t slept properly in six days because I’m scared Ayaka’s fever will run so high during the night that she won’t wake up the next day, and I can’t rest during the day because she raises fucking hell when she‘s not feeling good. And I don’t even blame her! She’s really sick, Izuku.”

Izuku just gapes, and Katsuki begins to feel a tiny bit bad.

“I know it’s not your fault, but I’m tired. She listens to you, Deku. She loves you. I can’t do this on my own.”

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to let that bit out.
He never complains about being tired. Heroes just aren’t meant to get sufficient hours of sleep when the world is always one villain away from utter madness, and Katsuki certainly never asks for help.

But, it’s been hard. Looking after a kid is hard, harder than any mission Katsuki has ever taken. Looking after a kid when the person you do it with is an parenting god compared to you is unimaginably difficult.

Izuku takes a step towards Katsuki, whose eyes suddenly burn with the sharp pricks of what he thinks are tears. It’s not like he would know; he hasn’t cried since he was twenty.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki. I had no idea you were feeling like this.” Izuku sighs, and it’s the heaviest one Katsuki has ever heard. For someone who was once called a child prodigy, this parenting thing doesn’t come very easy to Katsuki, at all.

Izuku places a gentle hand on top of Katsuki’s, who turns his palm and grips his hand. “It’s just really hard for me to give up work, but I’ll try harder for you guys. Ayaka loves you too, you know that? You’re all she talks about when you’re working and it’s just the two of us. Everything is I miss Ojisan, when is Oiisan coming back, I want to show this to Ojisan.”

The stupid thing is: Katsuki knows all of this. It’s just hard to believe, especially with how the past few days have gone by, but when he looks into Izuku’s eyes, he sees sincerity.

In that moment, holding Izuku’s hand in the middle of their dark living room after having an argument, does Katsuki believe that things are going to be okay.

-

Izuku’s quick to make good on his promises, and Katsuki’s glad.

The next time the agency calls him in for a meeting, Izuku fully exercises his adoption leave status as a new parent and has it rescheduled to be held as a video conference instead.

Izuku simply being around more drastically improves Ayaka’s mood, which in turn, drastically improves Katsuki’s mood.

At least, he can finally get a full eight hours now.

During the next few weeks, they visit parks, teach Ayaka about quirks, and attempt to bake a cake (Katsuki does most of the work, while Ayaka keeps attempting to eat the batter, and Izuku - hopelessly useless in the kitchen - just sits there and looks pretty). They also finally meet Eri and Kouta for the first time as preliminary ports of call before the three of them have their first sleepover.

On the actual day of the sleepover, Katsuki and Izuku stress like nobody’s business.

When one has a child who comes from a rather traumatic background, letting them stay the night in a distant unfamiliar environment is understandably not a top priority. They’re only calmed by the fact that Ayaka seems to really want this, if the way she’s been going on and on about it means anything at all.

When they go to pick her up after an unusually empty night, Kouta’s cousin: pro hero Sousaki Shino or Mandalay, answers the door with a wide smile that almost blinds Katsuki, and the three kids come running out from behind her.

Katsuki feels a surge of pride rush through his veins as Mandalay comments on how sweet and well behaved Ayaka is, and the way Izuku nudges his shoulder and winks tells him that his hero partner feels it too.

-

The thing with hero life that nobody warns you about is that once you pass a specific threshold in the rankings, it suddenly ceases to be as flashy as media outlets love to make it out to be.

Contrary to how young Katsuki thought he’d be living as a pro hero, current Katsuki unfortunately spends more hours of his life sitting through mind-numbingly boring meetings than he does spend actually saving people. Luckily, the fact that he lives for saving people is enough to make it worth it.

By the time work concludes, Katsuki’s just about ready to dig his own grave and lie in it. Spending an entire day suffocating in a constricting suit rather than his hero costume, which he designed for comfort purposes, is not what he signed up for.

He’s positively brimming with excitement as he slots his key into their apartment door, eager to workout, eat, spend time with Ayaka and Izuku, and finally, collapse into bed.

It’s when Izuku opens the door - cheeks pretty and pink, with Ayaka peeking through the gap between his thigh and the door - does Katsuki wonder just when he started relying so heavily on the pair of them for happiness.

“Hey,” Izuku smiles, hair an endearing mess of green. Katsuki ignores to sudden urge he’s struck with to run his hands through it.

“Hi.” He responds, slipping his shoes off in the hallway before crouching down to Ayaka’s level. Uncharacteristic to the way she usually greets Katsuki - all smiles and giggles - Ayaka instead hides behind Izuku and refuses to make eye contact, evidently upset about something.

Katsuki’s eyebrows furrow subconsciously.

“Hey, baby girl.” He calls, in an attempt to gain her attention.

His efforts are in vain, since though Ayaka mumbles something that resembles a greeting, her eyes still remain downcast.

“Oi, Ground Zero’s here, show me some enthusiasm!” Katsuki tries and when Ayaka shows no signs of lightening up, he mouths a concerned question at Izuku.

‘What happened?’

Izuku places a comforting hand on Ayaka’s shoulder, before answering. “Someone at school wasn’t very nice to Ayaka.”

He then turns to face her. “Do you wanna tell Kacchan what happened, sweetheart? Or, do you want me to?”

Shaking her head softly, Ayaka takes an audible breath, her next exhale shaky. “They said I’m weird because you and ‘Zuku-san are both boys but you take care of me together.”

As soon as the words leave Ayaka’s mouth, Katsuki’s blood immediately begins to boil. She looks down at the floor still, fists balled.

“Who said that?! I’ll blow them up!”

“Katsuki, I will actually call the police if you keep threatening four years olds.” Izuku threatens as he joins Katsuki on the floor, now both facing the little girl.

His tone softens considerably when addressing Ayaka. “There are lots of different types of families, Ayaka. For example, Kacchan has a mom and a dad, while I only have a mom. Kouta has Mandalay-san. Some people have two dads or two moms. You have me and Kacchan, it doesn’t mean any of us receive any less love.”

Ayaka nods quietly, hopefully comforted, and it’s then when Katsuki realises that Izuku was talking to him, too.

He looks at Izuku over Ayaka’s head and sees the world in his eyes.

-

If there’s one thing that Kaminari Denki will never grow out of, it’s undoubtedly his age old love for parties.

Along with that, comes his annoying penchant for convincing as many unwilling people as possible to show up - a habit stemming from the days of cramped house parties filled with shimmers and cheap alcohol, extending all the way to their current luxurious black tie events.

That’s exactly how Katsuki and Izuku find themselves in their first social gathering since becoming parents.

Ever since Katsuki’s fuck up with the press, they’ve become much more comfortable with holding up the relationship facade, so it’s not as torturous. Katsuki, for one, has finally managed to get his traitorous heart more or less under control whenever they perform acts of skinship.

Still, there’s something fundamentally different about performing in front of tens and tens of his colleagues, reporters and sponsors alike compared to a tiny show of fanservice for couple of prying eyes in their local grocery store.

Unlike the galas Kaminari usually drags them along to, this venue is on the smaller side, housing an attendance rollout less extensive than Katsuki is used to.

Showy all the same, the hall is shrouded in shifting neon lighting, which cuts directly across the hard lines of Izuku’s face in a way that makes it difficult for Katsuki to pull his eyes away.

This is a problem, considering they’re sitting sitting at a table with a couple of Katsuki’s nosy assholes for friends, who waste no time in grilling him once Izuku gets up to leave.

“Now, what the hell was that, Bakugou Katsuki?” Mina says as soon as Izuku disappears into the crowd, her painted eyes narrowing.

“What?” Katsuki exclaims, defensive.

“That.” Mina says, incredibly unhelpfully.

“Don’t piss me off, you assholes.”

Kaminari interjects, setting his glass of wine down on the table. “You don’t look at people like that, Bakugou.”

“Like what?” Katsuki questions, irritation bubbling in his tone. He’s tired of this cat and mouse game they’re playing with what they’re trying to get at.

“Like you’re in love with them.”

The bomb drops.

Katsuki barely knows what to do with himself, let alone even scavenge for a response that actually makes sense. His mind is spinning and he doesn’t know why.

In the crowd, Izuku resurfaces and Katsuki accidentally catches his eye, seeing the way his green tufts of hair fall prettily into his eyes, the way his freckles move as Izuku smiles at him.

He’s so beautiful.

Like you’re in love with them.

“Relax, man.” Eijirou laughs and Katsuki‘s rudely dragged back to the real world, breaking off eye contact with Izuku. “We’re just playing.”

“Some fuckin’ joke.” Katsuki scoffs, causing the rest to laugh in that way they always do after successfully getting under Katsuki’s skin. Granted, it’s not that hard to do so, so he’ll give them that.

Grabbing the first excuse to escape and get his heart under control, Katsuki reaches for his empty glass.

“I’m getting a refill.” He announces to the table, then nudges Eijirou, who’s next to him. “Want anything?”

Shaking his head, Eijirou waves him off. “Nah, I’m good, man.”

Standing up from the table, Katsuki nods in acknowledgment. He barely even enters the crowd when a voice calls out to him from back at the table.

“Refill mine, too.” Kaminari calls after him, complete with a shit eating grin plastered across his face.

Katsuki gives him a kind display of the finger.

-

When regarding Bakugou Katsuki, there are three pieces of valuable information to be known.

The first, and most obvious, being that he has quite the temper on him.

Over the tedious course of the past five years, Katsuki has put in arduous amounts of work to get it under control and he’s quite satisfied with the person he’s become. Still, it’s considerably easier to piss him off than the average person. He just won’t go about breaking your nose for it.

Secondly, Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t date. Ever. He’s never even been in love. There’s just no time for that when you’re a pro hero.

Thirdly, Bakugou Katsuki never panics.

So, how he’s found himself here, a mere three seconds away from stress induced heart failure, is beyond him too.

Somehow, he and Izuku have ended up pressed against a table in one of the back rooms at the gala. Before any wild conclusions are drawn, the position is purely platonic - even if his heart seems to be dead set in disagreement.

It’s a really small room, for fuck’s sake. And maybe the alcohol’s distorting their depth perception. What about it?

“I couldn’t breathe in there.” Izuku exhales, and Katsuki feels the air fan across his face. They’re standing far too close.

Katsuki’s mind wants to respond with the helpful fact that he can’t seem to breathe in here, either.

“Yeah.” He says, instead.

Izuku doesn’t respond, just stares up at Katsuki from where he’s leaning against the table. Suddenly, Katsuki’s throat feels incredibly parched, yet he’s struck with the sense that even downing the drink in his vice grasp will do nothing to quench his discomfort — certainly not when the air in his lungs feels pressurised.

“Shit, I was meant to be refilling this.” Katsuki curses, taking a step back before he actually combusts.

The look in Izuku’s eyes dissipates and he nods like nothing just transpired between then.

“I’ll see you later?” Izuku says like they don’t fucking live together and it sends Katsuki for a loop. He doesn’t like the things the sweet lilt in his voice make him think.

Katsuki waves as he shuts the door behind him.

“Yeah.”

(On the other side of the door, Katsuki stands aimlessly for a good five minutes, attempting to grasp what the hell just happened.

Corresponding with the recent running theme of Katsuki’s whole life; he fails.)

-

Ayaka tells them that she loves them on a Monday, ten minutes before they have to leave for school.

Accordingly, both Katsuki and Izuku proceed to freak the fuck out.

Sitting them down, even though they’re steadily running out of time until Ayaka actually has to be in school - Izuku takes a deep breath. “Listen, sweetheart, I don’t want you to feel like you have to say that unless you really, really mean it.”

Scrunching her nose in adorable confusion, Ayaka defends herself. “Obaasan said I can.”

Now that he thinks about it, Katsuki does remember Inko telling them over the phone that she had a rather interesting conversation with a very curious Ayaka.

Katsuki prods. “But do you mean it, Ayaka-chan?”

“Yes, Ojisan.” She nods, then stretches her arms to either side of her, making a large gesture. “Obaasan said that when you love someone, you like them all the way to the moon and back.”

The smile that spreads on Izuku’s face after she says that is palpable with hundreds of emotions; all of them good. Katsuki doesn’t even realise when he pulls both Ayaka and Izuku into a soft embrace that feels like it lasts hours. If their eyes gleam with unshed tears, Ayaka doesn’t have to know.

Of course, they end up being horrifically late.

-

Katsuki sighs.

He can’t believe the words that are about to leave his mouth.

He can only hope that both Eijirou and Mina understand just how much of his dignity he’s sacrificing in the name of maturity.

Here goes.

“I think I’m in love with Deku.”

Silence.

Wordlessly, Eijirou looks at Mina, who stares right back at her boyfriend. Katsuki doesn’t like the look on their faces. He gets the sense that he’s being left in the dark during a very important conversation.

Sighing, Mina finally speaks. “Took you long enough.”

Eijirou barks a laugh, patting Katsuki on the back. “Yeah, I knew you were emotionally constipated, bro, but this is a new record.”

Katsuki swallows every insult that threatens to burst as he watches his friends laugh at his forthcoming mental breakdown. Maturity, he reminds himself.

“What am I supposed to do? He isn’t interested.”

Mina blinks once, twice, then falls into another peal of astounded laughter. “You have a fucking child together. You trust each other enough to parent the same kid. What part of that screams uninterested to you?”

Katsuki considers the possibility of Izuku having even an inkling of interest in him, and promptly has a heart attack.

There’s no way.

(There might be a way, logical Katsuki says. Especially after the events of Kaminari’s work party, there definitely might be a way.)

“What you need to do is woo Midoriya Izuku off his feet.” Eijirou states, tone deadly serious. “Buy him flowers, take him out to eat, the whole thing.”

Fuckin’ hell.

Just when did Katsuki start taking relationship advice from Shitty Hair and Racoon Eyes. Well, they’ve managed to get themselves into a relationship with each other, so there’s that.

That’s how Bakugou Katsuki makes the executive decision to woo his hero partner off of his fucking feet.

-

Sadly, Bakugou Katsuki never gets to act out his very elaborate plan to sweep Midoriya Izuku off his feet, because it all culminates to a very anticlimactic end one random day as he’s doing the laundry.

As expected, with the new revelation that he’s fallen in love with the guy he fights villains alongside but also parents a child with, Katsuki’s become a fucking mess.

That explains why he can’t behave like a normal fucking person when Izuku enters the utility room to grab his washed clothes.

Katsuki can’t understand for the life of him why no matter what he does, his gaze ends up travelling straight back down to the plumpness of Izuku’s lips, when all the green haired man is trying to do is have a normal conversation about different detergent scents.

Izuku notices.

And Katsuki notices Izuku noticing.

Yet, he still finds it impossible to pull his eyes away from how kissable Izuku’s lips suddenly appear.

Then, those lips start moving.

“Anyone would think you wanna kiss me or something, with the way you’re behaving.” Izuku laughs.

It’s a joke. It’s so obvious that it’s a fucking joke.

Appropriate reactions would be to call Izuku a fucking idiot for thinking that. He can tease Izuku for thinking that. He can even laugh it off.

But alas, Katsuki finds a way to betray himself once again.

He’s blurting the words before his brain has the chance to catch up and fucking stop him.

“And if I do?”

The silence that follows is deafening, washed clothes forgotten about on the floor as Izuku gradually flushes pink. Katsuki’s about one second from retiring from hero work and sinking into the floor forever when Izuku finally responds.

“Oh.” He breathes, while Katsuki’s is held and bated. “Well, that’s okay, too.”

Katsuki makes it his new mission to wipe the shit eating grin off of his face.

Their four year old walking in on Katsuki with Izuku hoisted in the air and pressed against a wall should be way more embarrassing than it actually is, but Katsuki can’t find it in himself to care.

He’s happy.

(All’s well that ends well, because he does manage to sweep Izuku off his feet, in a way.)

-