Katsuki Who Traps You Into A Tight Bear Hug Whenever He Comes Back From A Long Mission, Shoves His Head

satoru playing into the whole super dad role, wearing a baby carrier everywhere and mindlessly letting your teething baby chew and slobber all over the tip of his finger to soothe her itty bitty aches. unable to keep his precious baby girl out of sight for a second, barely allowing you to lift a damn finger in the middle of the night as your daughter’s cries rouse the both of you from slumber. sure, satoru slacked off on plenty of things but never when it came to his princess. her diapers full? he was already changing it. breast milk was taking some time to come in? not a problem, he’ll feed her using formula. a sudden sneeze? she must have caught a cold. needless to say, he would do anything for his little girl. he was always alert, having conditioned himself to sleep only a few hours even before the baby was born due to his demanding work schedule. and although you appreciated his consistent efforts and the lengths at which he was willing to go to prove himself a good father — though you knew he would be from the start and he’d done just about enough even while you were pregnant — you would like to spend at least an hour with your baby before she inevitably got whisked away by your husband. but no matter how many times you tried to reason with him that you were completely capable of taking care of the child you birthed for just one night, he’d readily refuse. you’d spent nine months nourishing and caring for his little one in your tummy, and now it was his turn.

“He, Who I Love.”

pairing: bakugo x gn! reader

tooth rotting fluff, no angst no smut!!

Katsuki is unafraid— fearless. At least that’s what he likes to believe. However, loving you? It shakes him to his core. His love for you ever so strong, so overwhelming— scares him just a little.

You notice in the way his usual rough hands became impossibly gentle and tremble ever so slightly when he touches you— caresses you. To him, touching you feels like touching something fragile. Something forbidden that only he is fortunate enough to have.

The way he holds you in his big, strong arms after a long day, or the way his forehead presses against yours as if you were his safe space. His haven.

To the world, Katsuki Bakugo is loud, brash, and certainly unrelenting. But you? You see a completely different side of him, one that’s solely meant for you and only you. It truly is a privilege to see his softer side. He is warm, steady, calming— the kind of love that makes you forget about all the worries in the world.

Because when Katsuki loves, he loves with everything—his heart, his soul, his body, and every unshakable piece of his mind.

calvins or nothing?

[nsfw-ish] ; bakugou katsuki x reader — domestic fluff, slight horniness, bakugou katsuki being a cute little bean (but also a sexy phenomenon), slight humor <3

♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖📸.𖥔 ݁ ˖♡

notes: this is inspired by the bad bunny x calvin klein ad that came out a few weeks ago. i’m ovulating and had this in my drafts. enjoy 😃

Your grumpy Pro Hero boyfriend—the one who hates cameras, hates media circuits, hates anything remotely resembling a brand deal—somehow got talked into doing an ad. That, in itself, is already enough of a shocker. The man rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Instagram. His idea of PR is grunting his way through one-word answers at press conferences.

So, yeah. When Katsuki says he’s doing a shoot, you're caught off guard.

The announcement isn’t even some grand confession—it’s a casual mumble, like he’s commenting on the weather. He says it while washing the dishes, fingers soapy, sleeves of his tee pushed up to his elbows, the evening news humming in the background. You're sitting on the counter, half-listening to the TV, half-watching the muscles in his back flex through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Gonna do a shoot in a couple days,” he mutters like it’s nothing. Like the sky’s blue. Like he’s not about to detonate your entire sense of reality.

You pause mid-sip of your water. “A shoot?” you echo, blinking at him.

He doesn’t even look up. “Yeah.”

You slide off the counter and walk toward him, disbelief coloring your voice. “Wait, seriously? You? Doing a shoot? Like… willingly?”

He finally cuts you a glance, eyes narrowing. “What the fuck would I joke for?”

“I don’t know! Because you hate this stuff?” You raise a brow. “Last week you growled at a guy just for taking a picture of you at the market.”

He scoffs, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. “Agent wouldn’t shut up about it. Said it’s a good deal. Said it’d make my numbers spike.” He grinds his teeth. “S’bullshit.”

You grin, stepping even closer, your hands brushing against the hem of his shirt. “So what is it, huh? Sportswear? A cologne campaign? Let me guess, something with black-and-white aesthetics, all ‘I’m brooding and mysterious and I could kill you but also model for Givenchy.’”

His glare sharpens. “I ain't tellin’ you,” he mutters, and then smears a soapy hand across your face.

You yelp, eyes widening in shock before laughing, pushing him back with a dish towel, and just like that, the kitchen descends into a sudsy, chaotic mess—water splashing, laughter echoing, and your annoyed, grumbly boyfriend cracking the faintest smile as you attack him with bubbles.

You forget about it after that.

He goes to the shoot a few days later, grumbles about how stupid it was, comes home smelling faintly of sweat and photo studio, and promptly takes a nap on the couch with his face buried in your thigh.

End of story—or so you think.

Until the ad airs.

And the entire world explodes.

You’re not even the first person to see it. You wake up to six missed calls from Kaminari, seventeen texts in a group chat with Amanai and Hanari, and three DMs from stylists you’ve only ever worked with once, all saying something along the lines of:

IS THAT BAKUGOU???
Please tell me that’s YOUR man.
why didn’t you warn me???

You groggily pull up the video link with one eye open, barely processing the thumbnail—just muted greys and harsh lighting—and then hit play.

And then the world stops.

The screen fades in, and the first thing you see is concrete—cold and industrial, metal beams and stark shadows. The lighting is sharp and stylized, the kind of aesthetic that screams high-end minimalism, and then—

There he is.

Katsuki.

In nothing but tight black briefs, leaning against a concrete wall, one arm behind his head, the other resting on his thigh. His scars catch the light. His tan skin looks like it's been kissed by some god. His abs—hard and defined, with that perfect cut down his sides—flex slightly as he breathes. There’s sweat glistening faintly on his collarbone.

And his expression?

That look. The one he gives when he’s about to fight someone and knows he’s already won. That heavy-lidded, lazy gaze that screams dominance and confidence. His jaw is tight. His mouth is parted just slightly, teeth catching on the fabric of his own tank top as he lifts it with one hand, revealing the full line of his torso—slow and unbothered, like this means nothing to him.

You gasp. You physically clutch your phone like it might explode in your hands.

Is this a fucking fever dream?

The ad keeps going. Transitions shift—now he’s outside, in some open-air gym setup, hanging from a pull-up bar in white briefs, his body tense and glistening, thighs flexing as he hooks his legs around the metal, inverted and still steady. The camera pans slowly, sinfully, down the line of his waist, his back muscles moving with effortless control.

You are floored.

And then—then—he’s sprawled in a plush lounge chair, still in briefs, arms behind his head, legs spread in that arrogant, casual way that only he could pull off. He’s completely relaxed, like he doesn’t know the entire planet is watching this ad and forgetting how to breathe.

You drop your phone on the bed and bury your face in your hands.

“What the fuck,” you groan into your palms. Your heart is pounding. Your thighs press together on instinct.

Katsuki, your grumpy, camera-hating, blunt-as-hell boyfriend… just dropped the hottest underwear ad of the year. And you had no idea what he was shooting until now.

You scramble to your feet, pacing your bedroom, mouth still open, heart pounding in your chest like war drums.

Your phone still lies face down on the bed, but you’re pacing like the floor might cave in. Your heart is slamming against your ribs, your body thrumming with something between disbelief and desperate, carnal desire. There’s a burn low in your stomach. A buzzing heat behind your eyes.

Because the ad isn’t done. It gets worse—so much worse.

The music shifts, something darker now, heavier—bass rolling like thunder. And then the screen cuts to him again. Katsuki. In jeans this time.

Low-rise. Washed-out. Loose around the thighs but slung criminally low on his hips.

And those goddamn white briefs are peeking out above the waistband like it was staged in a dream. His hand glides lazily over his stomach, fingers tracing the defined V of his hips, brushing right past the thick trail of hair under his navel. He stops there—lingers there—just barely grazing the hem of the briefs before his thumb tucks in, teasing the edge. His gaze flicks to the camera.

And he smirks.

Not his usual cocky grin, no. This one’s lazy. Lopsided. Something slow and dangerous that makes your knees buckle. Like he knows what he’s doing. Like he planned this moment for you and you alone.

You gasp. You clutch your chest. "Oh my God."

And then—as if that wasn’t enough—the music picks up and the scenes start layering: cuts of him against the concrete, muscles flexing under the strain of his pose; transitions to the gym, his thighs clenching, his expression loose with exertion; cuts to that plush chair, where he’s lounging like sin incarnate, and finally, back to the jeans, with his hand still teasing that waistband.

It’s not an ad anymore. It’s a weapon. A visual threat. A public sex dream.

You stand there, completely dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth parted, blinking like you’ve been smacked upside the head with a wet towel.

And the comments?

Oh. The comments.

@takxmi291_: raw. next question.
@abersiw.3: Good lord what a great day to be alive.
@BIGPAPA.EJI: FLASH US ‼️‼️‼️
@numbber1.lemilionnn: giggling at 3am
@angelzkiss: GOOD GOD IM GIDJDJFNNFHDNDNDJDNCN🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦
@hyurhio008: YEP IM GETTING HIM PREGNANT
@Cello_Zumazz: damn now my screen's all sticky :/
@bpxrndeku: I FEEL LIKE A MAN IN THE 1800S SEEING AN ANKLE FOR THE FIRST TIME.
@lennysqqie: don’t be scared. take em off.
@dynazaddy98: i wanna GAGGGG on that huge COCK—
@stareandfanfic: look at em TITS AWOOGAAAA

You can’t even think. You’re vibrating. Your brain is gone. You’re standing there, still in pajamas, while your very private, very grouchy, very hot boyfriend just broke the Internet in his underwear.

You can’t let this slide.

So you bide your time. You wait until he’s home from patrol—freshly showered, hair damp and messy, wearing his black hoodie and sweatpants that clings to him a little too well. He’s sitting at the kitchen table now, chopsticks in one hand, steam rising from the shabu shabu you made. His brow is furrowed as he eats, and he's grumbling about how some new sidekick forgot to file a report properly.

You sit across from him with your phone in hand, not saying anything.

And then, casually, you clear your throat and say in a bright voice:

“Explosively warm, and snug. Dynamight wears the new Iconic Cotton Stretch. Now in stores.”

Katsuki freezes mid-bite.

His chopsticks pause, a slice of beef and mushroom still dangling, and you see it happen—the moment it registers. His shoulders stiffen. His jaw tightens. And then slowly, as if the food can save him, he stuffs it into his mouth.

You try not to laugh. You fail.

“What the hell, Katsuki?” you grin, voice breathless with amusement. “Why didn’t you tell me?! That ad launched three hours ago and I’ve seen your dick print more times than I’ve seen my own reflection today.”

He grunts. Doesn’t look at you.

“Honey, you looked insanely good. Like… I’m not even sure it was legal.” You lean forward over the table, voice dropping slightly. “You were so hot. And that grin?” You tap your phone. “That was cute, baby.”

His ears go bright red. A slow, creeping crimson that crawls up his neck to his cheeks.

He finally glances at you, scowling faintly. “S’just a stupid ad. Ain’t that important.”

“Oh, it’s important to me,” you murmur with a knowing smirk.

He huffs and looks away again, stuffing another bite in his mouth. But his jaw’s twitching. He’s so clearly flustered, you can barely take it. A tiny, pleased smile tugs at his lips even though he’s fighting it with everything he has.

And you realize—this is why he didn’t tell you. Because deep down, Katsuki knew. He knew how hot he looked, how big the reaction would be, how much people would thirst over it.

But more than anything, he knew you would look at him like this—like he hung the goddamn moon. And he wouldn’t know what to do with that.

“Sh’ddup,” he mutters under his breath, cheeks now fully flushed.

You grin like a wolf, biting your lip as you lean over the table, eyes glinting.

“No. I’m not gonna shut up. In fact, I’m gonna print out a poster. Hang it in the hallway. Right across from the bathroom.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growls—but it’s soft. There’s no heat behind it. Just embarrassment and affection and that little smirk he only wears when he’s happy in spite of himself.

And you?

You’re head over heels in love with this absolute menace of a man. Horny and obsessed and ready to make him flustered for the rest of the night.

Later, the apartment is warm, and quiet, the soft hum of the city alive behind the windows—but in here, it’s just you and him.

The scent of the shabu shabu still lingers faintly in the air, and the clinking of dishes is rhythmic, almost soothing. Katsuki stands at the sink, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, forearms slick and glistening. His hands are buried in a sink full of suds, scrubbing out the plates he insisted on washing since you cooked.

You’re perched on the counter next to him, legs swinging slightly, phone in hand, face lit up with mischief and fondness. The grin on your face is damn near criminal. You can’t help it—you’ve been giggling all night. Ever since the ad dropped, you’ve been glued to the internet, reading every unhinged, thirsty, downright feral comment about your boyfriend. And oh, they are so good.

Katsuki grumbles under his breath every time you so much as snort at your screen, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. Not really. Because he secretly loves the sound of your laugh—especially when it’s because of him, even if it makes him wanna throw himself into the damn sink.

You scroll through your phone, eyes twinkling, then grin wider. “Should I read you the comments next?”

He groans. “No.”

But you’re already doing it. “@yoqnoak24 says: i’m wet, ready, and stretched out to g—”

Before you can finish, a wet, soapy hand slaps gently but firmly against your face.

“Katsuki!” you squeal, laughing in full as the bubbles smear across your cheek and jaw, eyes crinkling with delight.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he growls through a grin of his own, already tugging you off the counter with one hand on your waist.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders instinctively as he leans in, pressing a messy, grinning kiss against your lips. It’s hot, breathless, teeth clicking together for a second before he pulls back just enough to murmur against your mouth, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

You’re smiling so wide you can barely kiss him back properly, giggling like a teenager. “Probably fuck me stupid, since you’ve already got half the world begging for it.”

“Jesus fuck,” he groans, burying his face in your neck. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, the way his ears are burning where they brush your jaw. But he’s smiling. You can feel that too. It’s hidden, buried in the press of his mouth against your collarbone, but it’s there. That secret softness only you get.

“You’re the worst,” he mumbles.

“No,” you say, tugging gently at his hair as you press a kiss behind his ear. “I’m the best. I’m your number one fan.”

“Damn right you are.”

You laugh again, and he chuckles too—quiet, low, warm in your chest.

This. This is your life with him. This ridiculous, heart-melting mix of domesticity and chaos. You and him in your kitchen, covered in soap and laughter, still buzzing with the aftershocks of an ad he didn’t even want to do. You and him trading kisses like secrets, teasing and tugging, wrapped around each other like you’ve always belonged this way.

God, you love this man. More than anything.

And the best part?

He loves you back just as hard.

"kiss me."

"what-"

You're head shot up, eyes now focusing on the white-haired man in front of you, mouth agape and eyes taking in his sunkissed figure.

He leaned his head closer to you, head resting on his palm, his arm on your desk, observing your reaction with a subtle smug look on face.

"what?" furrowing your brows, looking down on him with a hint of disgust.

"You're beautiful."

You scoffed.

"No need for the flattery. I'm doing this so you can shut the fuck up during class." You ignored him and returned to explaining the physics lesson he asked you to tutor him with.

You complied to this silly situation because you figured this would be a way for him to finally stop poking your side and whispering dumb questions to you during classes.

It's been an hour of explaining, and Satorou Gojo seems to have been quiet the whole time. You were happy because you assumed he was really listening and understanding the topic.

Unbeknownst to you, he, instead, was listening to your soft voice, and how you kept trying to make yourself sound strict and scary by making your voice sound deeper, how you brush your hair when you're thinking, how your fingers fidget with your ballpen when you're impatient, how your eyebrows lift up when you're anticipating his answer to a question he didn't even process.

Satrou adored you. This stupid physics tutoring was just a pathetic excuse to spend more time with you.

He reached his hand out towards you, and brushed your hair away from your face.

Pupils dialated, heartbeat quickened, eyes yearning. You watched him be like that, entertained by the sight of him.

The lovestruck man uttered.

"You wanna grab coffee?"

"No, Gojo. I wanna go home."

Swatting his hand away, and bluntly shooting down his offer, closing your books and tidying your stuff. Yet the man still persists.

"But we haven't even finished studying yet, haven't we, sweetheart?"

He holds both of your hands, and fiddles them up and down, treating you like a baby.

"You weren't even listening to me, '"sweetheart." " mocking him, trying to detangle your hands from his big, slender ones, though, failing miserably.

"I soooo listened to you! "

Tightening his grip with you intertwined fingers, and motioning them in the air.

"Yeah? What's the speed of light in a vacuum?"

"..."

"The only thing that matters is the speed of my heartbeat when I'm with you. "

He shoots you a wink.

"Wait- where'ya goin? "

"I'll walk you home!!" Quickly grabbing his backpack and chasing you down the halls.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Satorou Gojo's plan Q has failed, but, no worries, he'll figure out more ways to make you fall for him. Today, he's just happy he got to be with you for an extra hour, and be able to walk you home... after chasing you down the road, of course.

that bit of manu being the helicopter parent is so funny when you consider their lineage to the popoki goddess. if a feline cub is near u, the parent is definitely nearby watching u 😂 what i would give to see an au of manu and mahina living and manu is not so lowkey watching asl when the 4 become friends like a wild cat hiding behind the bushes, he did not let up the 🤨 expression even when hoku gotten older and there are more men than he like for them to be around hoku

Mahina stopped just short of bringing her hammer down onto the slab of metal sitting over her workbench.

A loud rustle from the front of the house caught her attention. The older woman blinked, tilting her head curiously as she set the metal aside and kept the hammer in her grip, twirling it around her fingers out of habit.

Her long white braid swung easily against her back. An ocean breeze tickled the ends, bringing Mahina's gaze outwards to the coast. Her workshop sat right beside their little house on the cliffside hill, looking right out to the ocean before them.

A short, familiar curse reached her ears and she grinned now, slinging the hammer lightly over her shoulder. "You moving the furniture again?"

Manu frowned. He'd been letting his hair grow out a bit this time, silken ends tied off just at the base of his neck with an old ribbon—one of Hoku's, she realized fondly. Their usual patio furniture sat in a cultish huddle around him, rocking chairs gazing back as Manu crossed his arms over his chest.

"Do you think they looked better where they used to be or how I had them yesterday?"

Mahina tipped her head to the side.

"How did they look yesterday again?"

Manu sighed, shaking his head. Mahina grinned cheekily, almost skipping over to her dearest friend as she came up to the steps of their home. "Are you going through your mid-life crisis now? Hoku won't mind them either way, you know."

Manu scowled, looking at her like a cat caught getting wet. Mahina laughed, coming over to help him move the chairs back into place as she set the hammer down. "What made you think she'd care if you moved them?"

"At first I wanted to move them to do something different," Manu explained slowly, evenly as he carefully polished off each chair and Mahina idly checked the wood for stray splinters. Not a single one to be found, of course, because the two of them were damn good at what they did. "But then I woke up last night—remember when I went down and started painting?"

"Of course I do, you almost gave me a heart attack."

"You? Right, Hina," Mahina laughed and Manu continued, "But then I woke up and realized, what if she's expecting everything to look the same way it did when she left? What if seeing it different will make her sad? Shouldn't I just leave it the way it was then?"

"But it's still the same chair," Mahina said, taking a seat in one of the rockers once it'd been moved. Manu immediately took up a seat beside her. "I don't think she'd mind how you moved it."

"You think?"

"Mmm, she's a funny one, that girl. I don't think she'd mind much at all unless you did something more drastic... like changing the paint or putting it on the roof?"

"Hina, why on earth would I ever—"

The sound of a car engine slowing to stop brought the two of them to a halt. Mahina and Manu froze, blinking in confusion at each other as they immediately shot their feet, rushing over to the pathway leading down their hill.

A car they did not recognize sat at the base of the hill, parked along the grassy edge. Mahina frowned in curiosity while Manu looked thoughtful, glancing to his watch. "Hoku's supposed to get picked up from the airport tomorrow—"

Both of them stopped as a familiar face appeared at the base of the hill, kicking the door to their rental car open. Manu caught a brief glimpse of a smooth hand reaching for her, as though in concern, but she was barreling out of the car before they could touch.

It was a face Mahina and Manu would know, in their dreams, every waking moment, and up to their last breath.

A happiness Manu had once never known and now could not fathom otherwise flooded his chest. Mahina's eyes sparkled, bright with mirth and love and the two of them began making their way down the hill as their daughter rushed to meet them.

"Mama! Papa!"

"Maka!"

Hoku's arms wrapped around her parents. Manu and Mahina embraced her in an instant, completing their circle of three. Snow white hair mingled with each other, a sense of perfect peace settling for a moment in unison as Manu shut his eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of their daughter, carding his fingers through her hair. Mahina's hand moved over her back, down the side of her arm—their daughter, theirs.

(Their beautiful baby girl.)

"Maka, it's been too long," Mahina murmured sweetly, eyes full of warmth as she pulled back, only an arm's length away to get a full view of their daughter. "You look good."

"You could afford to eat a bit more," Manu said, briefly pinching Hoku's arm to test for her weight. Hoku laughed, rocking back on her heels and almost taking her parents with her. "You're early! Why did you come without telling us? I would've gotten everything ready and—"

"He's had everything ready for weeks," Mahina said. Manu gaped at her. "He's still getting more ready. I haven't seen the fridge this full since—"

"I haven't heard you complain about it since you've been snacking plenty on the—"

"I wanted to surprise you guys!" Hoku said happily, positively glowing at her parents. Manu and Mahina quieted, hands still rubbing up and down their daughter, mapping the shape of her, how she looked now, her face full of life, content.

(Happy.)

"I always had the flight booked a day early, just wanted to make it a fun trip," Hoku said. She turned over her shoulder, grinning down at the base of the hill. "And well... maybe introduce you to a few new faces?"

Mahina raised a curious brow, slipping her arm through Hoku's as they made their way down the hill. Manu looked skeptical, walking right at their side and absently nudging Hoku away from any dips and rocks.

"HEEEEEYYYY MAMA HOKU!! PAPA HOKU!!!"

Mahina looked amused while Manu snorted in disbelief. Luffy appeared around the other side of the car, almost leaping into the air as he jumped up and down to wave to them. "LONG TIME NO SEE!"

"That boy isn't a new face," Manu said, watching Luffy run around to the trunk now. "I didn't know he was coming. I would've doubled the fridge—"

Mahina noticed the two men stepping out of the car before Manu, her raised brow raising even higher as an amused whistle sat on her lips. She turned now to where Manu had frozen stiff, staring in cold, incredulous silence at the two men standing at the base of their hill.

Two dashing young men stood beside the rental car, watching the three make their way down the hill. Mahina realized who they were in an instant, as she was sure Manu did as well, despite his cool silence. She could hear the judgement in his gaze as he skimmed the more tan one up and down, from his sandaled feet and board shorts to his open chest and unbuttoned shirt. Mahina like the wild way the wind tousled his black hair—this one was Ace.

The more respectable blonde man was Sabo, she realized. He stood instead of leaning against the car like his brother, hands clasped politely in front of him, a small smile already on his lips, but Mahina noticed his eyes never left her daughter, watching and tracking her steps down the hill with practiced ease. A sort of softness.

"I wanted to introduce the two of you!" Hoku said as they drew nearer to the car. "I know I always talk about Ace and Sabs, but you've only ever known them in photos and stuff... so when they mentioned they were able to get some time off work..."

"I think the photos are fine enough," Manu said simply. Hoku laughed and Mahina grinned. Her daughter was sharp, but she wasn't Mahina's sharpest creation in certain aspects, that much she was sure.

"I know it's sudden, and they don't want to bother," Hoku said. "But they've always wanted to meet you guys, they almost beg me to be honest. I thought, eh, might as well, right?"

"They seem fun," Mahina managed.

"That one doesn't know how to button his shirt," Manu said.

Hoku grinned, tugging her parents down the rest of the way. Up close Mahina could see clearly just how handsome these two young men were—fit, chiseled, matching better than the strange, blurred photos her daughter would send from time to time. They both straightened in unison at the sight of Manu and Mahina, rushing forward with outstretched hands.

"Mama, Papa, this is Ace and Sabo!" Hoku introduced proudly, nose somewhat thrusted in the air with a bright grin. "Ace, Sabo—my parents!"

"Hoku's mom and dad it's nice—"

"Miss Mahina, Mister Manu—"

Ace and Sabo stopped, looking at each other with round eyes. Sabo's expression instantly schooled into a cooler one, motioning quickly with his eyes while Ace gaped until his brother blinked, nodding.

"Miss Mahina! Mister Manu!" Ace and Sabo said in unison this time, beaming politely and widely at the two of them. "It's a pleasure and an honor to finally meet you!"

Mahina decided slyly to follow in Manu's steps, glancing sideways as her friend's face became one of quiet politeness—she knew this expression of his like the back of her hand, a frigid sort of coolness beneath its quiet.

"...It's good to meet the both of you as well," Manu said simply. Hoku positively beamed between her mother and father. Ace and Sabo continued to smile, a crooked grin and a polite upturn of lips respectively. Mahina took that as her cue and shook their hands first, both their gazes flying to her.

Mahina watched Ace do a double take, a soft redness coloring the tips of his ears at the sight of her. He bowed especially deep when she took his hand, "Mama—Miss Mahina, thank you for leaving Hoku in our care."

"Well, she's always got some fun stories to tell thanks to you lot," Mahina said slowly, a bit of a tease to her tone. She turned to Sabo next, considering this upstanding looking young man and wondering what little thoughts he kept hidden behind those quiet eyes. "Thank you for looking after our daughter."

"Hoku's very dear to us," Sabo said sincerely. Hoku made a face, looking at him. Dramatic, Mahina heard her think without saying. "She's always speaking so much about the both of you, it's a pleasure to finally—"

"What were your names again?"

Ace and Sabo blinked, looking back at Manu. Hoku didn't even seem the slightest bit bothered, swaying happily on her feet until she noticed Luffy by the trunk. Hoku quickly scampered off, shouting something about not eating the gifts.

"A-Ace," Ace said quickly, offering his hand. Manu considered it for a second longer than most and shook it silently. "Ace, uh, Mister Manu."

"I'm Sabo," Sabo repeated as well, extending his hand. Manu considered it just as long before shaking it briefly. "Thank you again for—"

"That's... polite of you to drop Hoku off," Manu said. He pulled his hand away, facing both Ace and Sabo. "What time is your flight home?"

Ace looked dumbfounded, blinking repeatedly. Sabo looked a bit perplexed, blinking at a slower pace at Manu as his lips parted to respond. Mahina withheld her grin, offering instead and politely curious expression.

Maybe she was being a bit mean, but she didn't get to see Manu like this often—it'd be too fun to tease him later.

"Uh, well," Ace started. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his brow. "Tuesday... when Hoku leaves..."

"I see, quite some time then," Manu said smoothly. "Where will you two be staying? Somewhere close? We're quite a ways away from the nearest hotel where most have to stay."

"Oh, well," Sabo began gracefully, an easy, polite smile settled over his lips. Mahina understood the situation instantly and had to give it to the young man for recovering as quick as he did. "Yes, we were planning on booking over by—"

Ace looked confused, snapping his head to Sabo. "But we're supposed to be—"

Sabo's heel smacked into Ace's shin, a quick, efficient kick. Mahina did her best not to laugh when his eyes bulged. "Excuse me, we're booking by—"

"I told them they could stay with us!" Hoku called over, appearing over the popped lid of the trunk, her arms wrapped around one of the suitcases while Luffy hauled a box over the top of his head. "There's the spare bedroom in mama's workshop if that's okay?"

Manu quietly tipped his head to the side, considering the new development in silence. Ace shifted unsteadily on his feet, looking quite a bit out of his element while Mahina simply allowed her lips to curl into a grin, lightly touching Manu's elbow. He glanced to her, meeting her gaze for a moment before he looked back at the two men.

"Yes," Manu said, clipped. "I think that'll be fine. Luffy can stay in the guest room in the house."

"Thanks Papa Hoku!" Luffy shouted, racing past them and up the hill toward the house with the box over his head.

"Thank you so much for your generosity," Sabo said quickly, smiling brightly at Manu. His expression remained unchanging and Sabo continued, "We don't mean to impose, we'll make sure we handle everything on our side and—"

"That's fine," Manu said.

Sabo's words fell to a quiet, polite silence. He continued to smile, a bit strained at the corners as he lightly adjusted the cuff of his sleeves.

"Oh, maka!" Mahina called, deciding to throw the two a bone. "Wait, let us help you with that."

Ace and Sabo turned on their heels in an instant. Mahina almost choked on a snort. Hoku looked up from where she was wrestling with one of the suitcases to get the handle up. "It's alright! We brought a ton of souvenirs over! It'll be a few trips."

"Aw, come on, let me get that for ya," Ace said, stepping over to the trunk. Hoku made a face and Mahina watched an easy grin slide across his face, expression suddenly far more confident than it'd been second ago, teasing. "You'll take the entire trip to get it up the hill if we let you."

"You're exaggerating that isn't gonna—"

"You almost broke your nose pulling it off the carousel," Sabo added, easily lifting one of the suitcases up with one hand while Ace grabbed the other. Mahina watched this interaction with curious eyes. Sabo's hand dropped and lightly touched Hoku's lower back, guiding her with practiced fingers to the side of the car. "Could you grab—"

"I can get this for her."

Mahina pressed her fingertips to her lips, hiding her expression. Sabo and Ace looked startled, blinking like deer in headlights as Manu easily took Hoku's bags from the two of them, one in either hand—and promptly began to make his way up the hill to the house. "It's my daughter's things after all."

Ace opened his mouth, closing it abruptly. Sabo looked momentarily stunned, staring after Manu—

"Thanks, Papa!" Hoku said sweetly, running around the side of the car and almost tripping over the lip of the hill. Ace and Sabo's arms shot out, a practiced move to Mahina's gaze, but Hoku easily rightened herself, almost skipping over to Manu's side.

Mahina watched with fond eyes as they shared the weight of the larger suitcase together, Manu turning to Hoku with affection in his gaze.

She glanced back to the two young men looking lost at the base of the hill.

"Don't worry," Mahina offered, almost sang as she took another suitcase from the two of them. Ace and Sabo watched her almost robotically as she hefted it over her shoulder with ease. "I think you two did just fine."

the entirety of this trip is Ace and Sabo trying to win Manu and Mahina over, only to find themselves at the constant mercy of Manu's scrutiny

Manu's never too mean to them, but he sure does make them sweat

Sabo's a bit hurt because he can normally charm most parents and Hoku's won't even give him an inch

Ace starts to think that maybe he did do something wrong, he tries not to show it but starts to freak at the thought of Hoku's parents actually hating him—what the hell is he supposed to do if that happens?

He starts to limit physical contact with Hoku—which is nowhere near normal for him, Ace holds back bear hugs and noogies and chokeholds because he grabbed Hoku, swinging her up and Manu had looked at him as though he'd just thrown up all over his hand-embroidered rug

Even Sabo gets caught, an arm around Hoku's waist when he helps her down the steps to the beach—he respectfully keeps it hovered over Hoku's lower back instead when Manu stares him down from the top of the hill

Manu and Mahina treat Luffy normally, and Luffy does the same to them—they've become acquainted with Luffy and like him quite fine, after all

Hoku's just happy to have a good time with everyone

It's Luffy who gets Manu to act just a liiiiitttttlllleeee bit nicer when he notices Manu and Mahina standing by the hill, watching and talking about Hoku and he says:

"Shishishi, Ace and Sabo can handle it, they're tough!" Luffy promptly spit out a mouthful of watermelon seeds. Manu and Mahina watched them scatter to the ground. "Besides, they know Hoku loves it."

"Loves it?" Manu repeated.

"Sure," Luffy said, unbothered. "You guys havin' a say. I dunno. She's probably just happy she gets to grow up with ya this time."

Manu and Mahina look at each other, expressions soft and full of love for their daughter as Luffy walks off, sandals slapping in the sand. It takes them a moment before Manu suddenly looks a bit confused, glancing to Luffy's swaying straw hat in the wind.

"Did he say this time? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Who knows," Mahina says, looking curious, maybe a bit mystified. "He's always been a curious one, hasn't he?"

Luffy eats the entire watermelon rind in front of them and Hoku's parents decide to just have fun the rest of the weekend

-i decided to do a modern au for this one because an au where mahina and manu live in the memos storyline... :'( they'd probably want to hear all the news possible about their daughter, so an interaction of them scrutinizing all the boys would probably go something like them sitting around the table talking about their wanted posters and making judgements based on that

child like wonder

bakugo x fem!reader

Ten years after his first official Pro Hero debut with his fellow UA graduates, Dynamight has since been Japans number one hero turned number fifteenth hero, and now a father.

His son's first years of life had been greatly hidden from the public, the only news being Bakugos official statement announcing he would be taking a break to focus on his family and being a father.

Four years later, baby Bakugo has now first been spotted with Dynamight outside a kindergarten. Outside sources and video recordings could be seen from across the road recording their interactions.

With a harsh glare and a cold shoulder from Dynamight, turning his back to the recording individuals, baby Bakugo was first spotted shy smiling and giving the fans a small wave while trying to hide behind his father. Fans across the globe awed at the sweet child's display, the contrast between the small child and his loud spoken father created even more turmoil among fans.

Bakugos son quickly became the number one trending online,"I think that babies smile just cured my depression," said one dedicated Dynamight fan. Similar comments on TikTok stating "PLEASE WHY AM I NOT THE CHILDS MOTHER," was on thousands of videos and edits of baby Bakugo.

The public quickly learned that baby Bakugo was the complete opposite of Dynamight, while Bakugo was blunt and harsh during interviews, baby Bakugo would giggle and talk to the interviewers about mundane and childish topics, asking their favorite color and showing off his All Might doll his father got him.

The soft spoken angel would help others, a trait some would say he got from his father. During a fan signing, baby Bakugo was right next to his father greeting and talking to fans, some even got photos with them. (with Dynamights and baby Bakugos permission) The cute boy was pictured cheesing with a tiny peace sign next to his glaring straight faced father.

A father son duo the world didnt know they needed.

But with such an innocent and tenderhearted kid coming from someone of the Bakugo family, many asked the question "How did such a harsh and rambunctious person like Dynamight create such an adorable and gentle child."

Thats where you come in, his mother. Someone who remained elusive and hidden from the limelight. No one had ever seen baby Bakugos mother, thats why it was such a shock when Dynamight announced his jump into fatherhood, no one knew he was even dating someone to begin with.

All dating rumors with other heroes, models, actresses, and even friends were always shut down fast. So the mother could've been anyone.

But one phone caught a certain model exiting the kindergarten mid day, holding a sick and tearful baby Bakugo.

While you exited the building in civilian clothes, sunglasses, baggy sweatshirts and pants, with trainers no one should have know it was you. But the giant rock on your finger showed otherwise, everyone knew you refused to take off your wedding ring unless it was for specific photo shoots.

With one fan catching it while scrolling and pointed out your specific ring, others started to piece together certain events and breaks you and Dynamight would coincidentally have together.

Thus the mystery of Bakugos wife and his son's mother was found.

The other shocking realization came with the fact that you were a notoriously difficult and demanding model. Your viral "crash outs" over unprofessional coworkers and crazy fans were always trending. The contracts and demands you had for working with a company or someone was high maintenance and unruly, but the public and designers loved you.

So how did a child as sweet and docile have a mother as needy and high maintenance as you, and a father as audacious and harsh as Bakugo.

a/n. it's been a hot minute, y'all. this is inspired by a reel i saw on instagram (@dagirlythang), although i believe this is one of those notorious accounts that reposts content from other creators without proper citation :\ still, credit is due where it's (partially) due. anywho, i haven't written in a WHILE, but i hope this still scratches the itch for some of you. enjoy! (0.6k)

“here, kats.”

from where he’s just put the car in park, bakugou looks at you—first, instinctively—then carefully, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the sight of what you’re holding.

his normally crimson eyes that are seeming darker under the dim light of his brand new porsche dart up to meet yours. “the fuck is that?”

you frown at his unexpectedly hostile reaction, although it’s quick to morph into a look of realization when it hits you belatedly.

“shit, sorry,” you half-laugh, half-sputter, hurriedly returning it to your bag before reaching into its depths for your phone. you thumb in your password in almost less than a second, gaze trained on the app as you click it, “i forgot you preferred cashless transactions.”

you’re in the middle of typing in bakugou’s phone number—you’re embarrassed to admit you already have it memorized just two weeks into dating him—when your device is unceremoniously yanked out of your grip—so fast that you could barely squeak in surprise. you whip to face the pro-hero—about to reprimand his ear off for ripping it away from your hands like that—when you catch a glimpse of his features and all the words suddenly die in your throat.

uh oh.

“tell me,” he starts, voice low, and you find yourself gulping despite yourself. “did i buy this car so i can quit hero work and be a driver?”

“…no?”

a scowl. “then why are you treating me like i’m you’re fucking uber?”

you blanch. “i’m not! i just figured i give you some gas money.”

“why the fuck would you send me gas money?”

you know better than to answer that, so you shake your head and ignore the way he’s practically glowering at you, before pulling out the wad of cash from earlier, “is this much okay—”

“you ain’t sending me shit,” bakugou essentially spits—cutting you off—just as he reaches over the console and thrusts your hand back into your wallet.

he’s still gripping onto your phone.

you toss him an exasperated expression.

that earns you an eye roll. “don’t.”

you pout. “why won’t you let me help?”

“this isn’t about help, dumbass,” bakugou drawls, mirroring your irritation. “i won’t be caught dead asking my girlfriend for money.”

you try to breeze past the way he just referred to you as his girlfriend, masking your fluster with a scoff. “so it’s a pride thing now?”

the ash-blonde sneers. “more like the bare fucking minimum.”

to that, you snort, although you can’t fight the smile that tugs at your lips. “easy for you to say, rich guy.”

“watch it,” he warns, and you break into a laugh, then laugh harder when his mouth wobbles in a sorry attempt to keep a stern face.

that grants you a playful punch to the shoulder, which you take in stride, still chuckling. soon enough, the air falls into a quiet lull with neither of you making a move to get out and into your apartment’s parking lot. this goes on for a few beats, before bakugou finally breaks the silence.

“p-promise me.”

bewildered, you glance at the pro-hero, who’s looking straight ahead onto the wall beyond the car. “promise you what?”

he swallows, as if nervous. “that you’ll get used to this.”

your eyes widen, suddenly speechless. the urge to ask him what he means by ‘this’ quickly surfaces—something tells you it’s more than just him spending on you—albeit dies down just as swiftly. the last thing you want is to ruin the moment.

instead, you settle with peering at him curiously for another minute, before: “…do i have a choice?”

at that, bakugou turns to you, grinning. “nah.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @touyas-moon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin @lotusstarr

You and Bakugou walk home in the rain.

The sky’s a watercolour spill of peach, heavy clouds staining the glow and threatening rain, wind. You had watched the sky from the cool, green-dark of your little store, wondering if you needed to pull in the flowers sitting out the front; the last thing you wanted was carnations rolling down the little street, scattering their frilled petals like confetti. Everyone else along your strip was wheeling in what they could, or lowering awnings—taking precautions, bundling up bags of pickled radishes, or dragging in stands with bootleg DVDs.

“Eh, the weather will break,” Akane had said, dismissively. “It’ll sail out to sea and then double back before it does any real damage.”

You had held out your hand as she blustered on—catching the rain dripping from the stripped canopy over your shopfront, stretching your fingers and letting the water run down them.

“Maybe I’ll bring the flowers in, anyway,” you say aloud. Akane scoffs, throwing her hands up in surrender. You smile to yourself, amused, and let her have her disgruntlement.

You rescue the carnations first—already wet with rainwater and huddled together, their frilled edges making you think of vacationing ladies at the seaside: their skirt hems dragging with the ocean spray. The hydrangeas wait til last; riotous in the weather, soaking in what they can, happily. There’s a distant rumble of thunder—you pause on the threshold of your store and watch the sky like it’s less a threat of a storm and more the promise of Katsuki overhead, somewhere, his explosions propelling him forward and breakneck speed.

It’s not. In the gloom of your little cupboard of a shop, your phone glows; a message from your Hero, waiting.

Doing shitty paperwork. Tell me when you’re home.

You thumb the side of your phone, like you could be tracing the back of his hand. Home, he says, so easily. Home—Katsuki’s apartment, where you’d both come to like the comfort of you being there for him, when he finished work.

There’s an icy gust; the wind, testing your doors before sending some leaves scuttering, down the road. You stand amid your plants and your buckets of flowers and think about Katsuki, frowning down at his paperwork in the confides of his brightly-lit office at the agency, as the world outside grew dark. He was always coming to you—meeting you at home. Meeting you at your shop doors.

Outside, something clatters. A shop sign, maybe. A fern brushes the top of your head as you peer out, to the sky again, still it’s wash of orange.

Just closing up shop now, you text Katsuki back. The read notification ticks over quickly, but he doesn’t reply—his normal modus of messaging.

It never bothers you. Instead to be funny, you send him a gif—a glittering rose, something Akane might’ve sent you, unironically, as a good morning message.

Katsuki reads that, too, but doesn’t reply—leaving you silently laughing to yourself in the dark of your secret little shop.

It’s raining in patches, by the time you leave the store; shower bursts, on and off as you make your way through a busy train station, eeling onto the train you need, when it comes.

You are a bright smear of colour, in the window’s reflections; with your coat, with the bundle of flowers you’ve allowed yourself, for Katsuki’s apartment—for home. An older woman across from you smiles, when you meet her eyes; you smile back and then almost immediately look away, rocking with the motion of the carriage and your embarrassment, still unused to the attention holding something as simple and as cheery as a bouquet of flowers could bring.

The rain’s paused, when you make it to your stop; the sky over the intersection still it’s peach spill. You twirl your umbrella above your head, watching the clouds roll, and then glance ahead, across the road—to where Katsuki is standing in civilian gear, golden and unimpressed in the latelight as he waits for you to notice him.

You break out into a grin just as the lights signal for you to cross, your heart skipping with the tune as you make your way to him.

“What happened to the paperwork?” You ask a little breathlessly, when you join him on his side of the road.

Katsuki just frowns, a hand reaching out to curl against your side—pulling you into him, where he presses his face against yours for a moment, stilling your buzzing, your excitement, like he could absorb it all. You press back just as tightly; breathing him in, warm and deep and sweet.

There’s a light touch against your temple, suspiciously kiss-like; and then he’s nipping at your ear, annoyed.

“Ow,” you say, reflexively.

He smacks his forehead against yours in retaliation. “Y’re meant to go home, dipshit,” he says, disapproving, though he just holds you closer when you sag against him, trying to keep your umbrella aloft.

“I am going home,” you mumble into the lapel of his jacket. “I’m going home with you.”

His arm tightens around you; you breathe in with him, listening to the thud of his heart, steady under the sudden spray of rain overhead, on your umbrella.

The crosswalk goes off again—leaving the pair of you standing there in the last of the rain, the light. The two of you in your own world, under the watercolour spill of sky.

Twisted my ankle this weekend and it made me think of how Katsuki would take over baby duties at the drop of a hat.

He’d all but force you to sit down, legs propped up with ice on your swollen appendage while he chases your toddler around.

He’d handle daycare pick up and drop off, dinner, play time, bath time, and made sure to reassure your worried baby that you’re fine, and you are awe struck when your toddler pulls out her doctor white coat and demands to take your temperature. You pretend you’re healed when you’re given a fat, slobbering kiss from your baby, laughing when they demand Katsuki to also give you a kiss, because more kisses mean more healing power- duh.

i know we talk about the boys kissing you breathless but have we talked about how Hajime kisses you calm?