SHOTO is the WORST when his son goes on his first date. he has a sitdown with him, which he never does btw. he's not even trying to look as serious as he does━

“you're going to open every door for her, yes?”

“yes dad.”

“you will introduce yourself to her parents as soon as you arrive, and ensure you will have her home on time.”

“…yes dad.”

“you did get a thank you gift for her mother, right?” he pauses, right hand over his chest, “did you get her flowers━please say you got her flowers.”

“dad. relaax.” his son snickers, laugh identical to his mother. “mom went with me yesterday to pick a sick bouquet━i think they were…rindou flowers━and yes, i already got a thank you gift for mrs. yaoyorozu.”

the back of shoto's hand swipes across his forehead, nerves finally settling. “forgive me for worrying, can't help it. i was never prepared for this━”

he throws a firm grab to his dad's shoulder before swiping his phone off the coffee table, headed for the door. “i know, i know. love ya too, dad.”

“before you go...” shoto tosses him the keys from his pocket, “take the benz.” his warm smile seems small, but internally he's smiling ear to ear at the ‘cool dad’ points he just scored!

he offers him a wave of thanks as he diverts to the garage, but shoto doesn't miss the screech of boyish excitement when his son gets in the car.

۫ ׅ 𐔌 9 : 23 PM ୭ ˚

“hon,” you whisper from the car in the passenger seat next to your husband, who's currently moments from cracking. “come on sho...you've got to trust 'em at some point.”

your smile fades into a sigh, your protests falling on deaf ears once again.

red and white eyelashes press against the binocular lenses in his hands━currently spying on your son. who was three hours into his outside dinner date. “just gotta...make sure they're safe━”

“honey, we’re sitting in a shaded, parked car with binoculars. we look like creeps. let's go.”

“…only if they catch us.”

“...”

he slouches back in his seat, not willing to push it with that look on your face. “fine.”

reluctantly putting the car in drive, he begins heading home━but the whole drive there he can't help but think he should've used that ghillie suit and come on his own. just to make sure...

IZUKU is the WORST when it comes time for his sweet girl to grow up. he's been taking your daughter to every single father-daughter event in town since she was three!

though, his favorites were the daddy daughter dances! he always makes it a huge deal, won't stop yapping his colleagues' ears off about how excited he is. he's so annoying about it that aizawa has the month marked on his calendar...just so he can make sure that he's busy during every lunch break.

that's why he's so stunned when━

“yeah dad, i'm just not feeling it this year. think i'm getting too old for all...that.”

his eyes are wide and full of shock. he knew this day would come, but why did it have to be so soon!

“what'dya mean you're too old!?” his hands are instantly tangled in his trimmed green locks. “you just turned fourteen!”

“i just can't risk someone posting that i was there━they'll call me lame for weeks...and i'm already beefing with the girls at school! i do not need to give them any leverage, you know?”

she instantly regrets her sentence after seeing the state of shock it sent her father into right after. he was slowly but surely coming around to her growing up━but breaking their tradition...might prove to be a bigger setback than she expected!

“oh god, here he goes...MOM!”

the waterworks are already running, tears falling down his scarred, tanned cheeks.

“dear all might, my little girl's all grown up━”

“dad please, not again...”

KEIGO is the WORST teacher ever. which is to be expected, since he only ever had one 'student'.

“daddy!” a tiny voice shouts somewhere in your backyard. “look how fast i can go!” you aren't sure how the hell your son hasn't passed out from heat stroke or exhaustion yet. little feet jump up and down on top of that splinter-ridden playhouse kei built him last year for his birthday.

keigo always loved telling you how excited he was to fly with your future kid once (if) you guys made it to that stage in life anyways. which is why you were both kinda confused as to how you were gonna teach him how to use his wings now. poor kid inherited his dad's quirk with his mother's sub-par vision.

“i'm lookin', let's see it kid!” your husband's bright, pearly, encouraging smile matched the one on your son's face. his small hands are stretched out in front of him, wings wide. “…ok!”

at the last second the squirt spins around━directly toward the fence.

keigo plops down in the patio chair next to you, hand on your crossed legs as he pops his sunglasses back over his eyes.

“…he really can't see a damn thing, can he?”

“well━duh?” you look up from your clothing magazine, pushing heavy glasses up on your nose.

he pushes his smile down, patting your thigh. both of your eyes tracking your son as he goes to jump━again. “parents of the century.”

you wave him off, “just...go get the first aid kit.”

the sound of heavy wings crashing through the fence echoes across the yard. “━and his glasses.”

・・・・・

“okay please stop we give up!” you shouted minutes later, head peeking above the little bit of wall you guys had left. katsuki was blasting what felt like literal bullets at you guys now, and you’re almost sure he knocked out hanta on his way to the forest...

“yeah, and you better pay for my nails!” mina wailed, “guys let me know if you see some rhinestones behind you,” 

“..aren’t those press ons?” kaminari’s smacked with a wad of snow by his pink haired teammate, “shut up, that’s not the point!”

“why aren’t you wearing gloves anyways—”

ejirou’s cut off—all of you freeze at the familiar sound of katsuki’s boots crunching against the snow, he’s not even slightly winded, not an ounce of exhaustion in his steps as he finally stops in front of your now crumbling fort.

his face goes flat at the sight. kaminari’s using ice from the wall to cool his bruises; mina’s digging through snow looking for…whatever it is she’s looking for.

he looks to the side at ejirou, the only one untouched besides himself, guess hardening is pretty effective here. he doesn’t even know where sero went.

his eyes finally land on you, your eyes refracting pure irritation. clearly you were unimpressed to say the least. 

“...what?” he points in between you all, “why’re you all starin’ at me?”

“kats…” your eye twitches, “is there a reason why i found a rock in one of your snowballs..?”

his eyebrows raise, “..oh those?” he pauses, crushes one of them in his hand, showing the rock.

you and ejirou stare back at him, “do you…not see the problem here?”

he shrugs, “nope, this ‘s how deku and i fought all the time in middle school.” you all collectively note that for later. 

“that’s not even fair!” mina objects, “what were you trying to do, kill us?”

“what mina said, and i think i have hypothermia…” denki shudders, teeth chattering in the corner.

“...spell hypothermia.” katsuki says flatly.

“...”

he sighs, shoulders slouching. “okay, yeah, whatever—i’m still freezing.”

“...right,” he pauses, laugh rumbling deep. “and what’d you idiots expect? it’s a fight.”

“it’s a snowball fight!” you retort, attempting to shake his shoulders, “..with snowballs! soft, fluffy, snowballs.”  

you groan, “can’t believe ’m dating you,” you scoff as he flicks snow out of your hair. it was probably the tenth time you’ve said that this week.

he rolls his eyes, trying to fight back his grin, “c’mon, you know i didn’t hit ya.” 

it’s been a few hours, and everyone's gone inside to warm up. shoto had the task of melting down the snowball fight terrain he was begged to make. 

he hums, walking behind the wall bakugou was stationed at earlier.

he stutters after stepping on some stray snowballs; looking down at the pile—

“are those…” he pauses, tilting his head, “..rocks?”

⸝⸝ based off of this headcannon i saw of katsuki putting rocks in snowballs and omfg ts fried me so bad »

the girl he’s enduring all this for looks down at her lap to hide the smile blooming on her face.

she starts slowly, “dad, y’know katsuki actually got into ua! with a.. really good score too..” she trails off when met with her fathers gaze.

katsuki nudges her leg from under the table in thanks.

her mother wears a look of awe, “well you must be a very talented …boy!”she blurts, “and you seem to have a lovely friendship with my daughter.” pointedly smiling between the two teens.

her husband scoffs to her right, “friends” he repeats, sounding suspicious.

₊⊹ somehow, he survives dinner, and the bright beams from the sun, once lighting the living room have now begun to set into orange hues. he starts to collect his silverware before her mother juts in.

with a wave of her hand, she motions towards the back door, “oh love!” she meets her daughter's eyes, “you should show katsuki the sunflowers, your father worked so hard on the garden this year!”

she looks back at her dad, who's currently washing dishes, who's also trying to avoid the blond elephant in the room.

she grabs katsuki’s wrist from his black jean pocket, having changed into the ‘nicest’ outfit he had for dinner. “sure mom!” she shouts out while dragging katsuki down the hallway and out the stained glass backdoor–forgetting to close it, as usual.

𐔌

the sound of socks padding down the hall is gone; giving him permission to speak – “he's a delinquent!” his tone lowers as his wife's fingers trail up his arms to rest on his shoulders, “you can't tell me you’re comfortable with our daughter dating…someone like him..” he nearly choked trying to get the word out.

“well,” she rests her head into his back, “it's clear he deeply cares about her, and i feel that she's safe with him.. the kids goin’ to ua after all…”

he turns to look at his wife, “since when do you think he’s mr. reliable?”

she motions down the hall, pointing through the open door, “when’s the last time you saw her smile that wide?”

⸝⸝⸝

their daughter's laughter carries past the clouds as she attempts to weave a sunflower through his locks. katsuki’s scowl never fades, but it holds no malice; letting her gentle fingers trace through his hair. the uncut grass is gentle as he falls back into it, giving her better access to his head.

she's so focused on the stupid flower maybe she missed his skin burning the same shades as the sunset ᯓ

・・・・・

“…i guess i’ll allow it.” he grumbled.

she hums softly, pleased. he reaches his wife's eyes to see her wearing the same smile as her daughter in the yard.

・ you were kiri’s girlfriend now. his oh so sweet girlfriend. 

・・ you were at every one of his games, cheering for your boyfriend right next to katsuki who got dragged along in the stands. 

・・・ always had your doting boyfriend's arm wrapped around you when he saw him walkin’ you to class—ejirou had altered his route just for you.

・・ he even had to see you when you weren’t there, rosy evidence stained on his best friend’s neck when he passed him at two am on the way to the fridge.

・ and he always knew when you were spending the night because he could hear you, just one room over.

so he couldn’t, there was no way he could kiss you. ejirou was his best friend, and though he’d never tell him, he’d do anything for that guy.

right now he’s contemplating if anything includes making out with his girlfriend..

“hah, …i think you’ve got the wrong guy,” he pants out, face warm, his hands resting over yours on his face. “yer boyfriend’s..ah, in his room..”

he watches the thoughts try and process on your face, your eyebrows knitted together—probably still wondering why your boyfriend didn’t wanna kiss you! 

he grunts as you fall into him, “...hic!…what’re you talkin’ about…?”

your slurred words send tingles through his ears while freshly manicured fingernails curl into his shirt collar, dilated eyes scanning his collar bone. “wait—”

you both stumble back into the wall behind him, your plush lips already suckin’ on katsuki’s jaw. “dunno what you’re talkin’ about…” you glance up, attempting to meet his eyes “..missed you..baby,”

his warm breath fans against your lips, his eyes fighting to land on anything but your breasts pressed against his t-shirt.

…surely ejirou wouldn’t mind…he's the one that had a crush on you first, right..?

・・・・・

finally, your lips sloppily connect with his, head tilting to get a better angle—his phone wallpaper flashes a pic of him and ejirou in the dim light behind him. he barely notices it in the corner of his eye, paying it no mind—hands busy on your hips as he slips his tongue past your eager lips.

༝

he follows her touch to their bedroom, draping his coat over the couch on the way.

shrugging off his gloves, his hands are cool to the touch.

warm hands glide over his, “why must you insist on working dear,” she breathes out, looking past stubborn scarlet eyelashes, “who are you trying to prove your youth to?”

he begins to answer—the words fall silent on his tongue. he’ll have to confront that thought once it's voiced. right now, it’s easier to lie next to her under the sheets, let loving fingers rake through his hair; a tradition they follow every night.

tired eyes shut, he finally releases the breath bunched up in his chest. head melting into her touch, letting her hands land where she saw fit.

༝

his age makes itself known in various ways. in how it takes him a beat longer to recall names. in the sores that linger after yielding his claymore. but it’s easier to pretend not to notice it, no use in dreading the inevitable.

that’s what he once thought, sticking to his daily routine as a means to ignore how fast the years seem to climb on the calendar.

memories of his father always find themselves at the forefront of his mind when his eyes shut. the day of his passing marked the start of his new life—did he know that then? unconsciously he’d begun retreating. excusing it mentally as comfort—a way of mourning. he planned on returning to his normal schedule soon. there was always tomorrow.

tomorrow led him into the next week, another week of doing his day to day tasks, keeping busy. wine was a distraction, a pastime—a trade off for his youth. he made sure not to stray far from routine.

his routine’s been forcefully ripped open. nearby houses means new neighbors; new people stopping him for greetings and small talk. new voices, all reminders that the outside world is ever changing. time continues on impatiently, whether he’s accepted it or not.

shoving that thought into the back of his mind was easier when proof of time wasn't visible from his winery, this suffocating winery. the first place he went after his fathers passing, where he got married, where he’s been coming home every day for the past decade or so.

is it the uncertainty? the curiosity eats away at him—who would he be now if not for his choices back then. is it regret? regret that he didn’t stay and fight to expose the corruption in the system, get justice for his father. it seemed so hard back then. to confront those feelings when the weight of his responsibilities was so overwhelming.

day to day life was effortless this way. only now does he regret allowing himself the easier option. he knows at some point he let his fears control his life, he can’t recall when he began living this way. it feels natural now.

few ever questioned his absence, the only visitors being business partnerships—his brother would make the occasional appearance.

his staff made it easier to slip into the background. let bustling parties and events happen outside while he handles paperwork in his office—it’s quiet there. let himself become an after thought, sink into routine.

only now does he wish to revisit the day he chose this lifestyle; when he still held embers of anger in his heart, ready to act. he’d never step foot in this winery, and fight to have his presence known. make it part of their routine. maybe he’d set up a shop like lisa. have empty conversations with people while preparing for the morning rush.

༝

she thumbs away the tears at his eyes, pressing soft lips to his forehead.

his breathing slows, now fast asleep.

as he did every night, as he will the next.

“katsuki of course you wouldn't get it, you have no appreciation for cute and reliable stationary!”

“....well of course i dont? only nerds care about that shit”

a silver metallic piece of paper hits his head as he looks up to see a gum wrapper on his desk that he can only assume she threw at him.

“the hell?” 

“get your feet off the desk and help me look for it!” she pleads, “i know its around here somewhere! , …..this is the last class of the day…” her statement trails off as she crawls under the desks to look for the red white and blue pen with yellow clips that mimic all mights hair – its the coolest one out of the “limited edition! - hero gel pen set! - only in select stores!”  collection!

which only means…

“katsuki wait! someone must’ve stolen it!” 

in the rise of her excitement of solving the case, her head bumps the top of the table.

now out of his chair he moves the desk forward to allow her room to push up with her thighs. “get up. you look stupid.”

she throws him a swift eye roll –“oh shut up, and didn’t you hear me, this is really, really bad someone stole my pen! he decides to ignore the absurdity of her telling him to shut up and then expecting a response, but she says the last part with such fear in her voice he almost , almost feels bad for the pinch he feels on his thigh from all mights hair strands in his pocket. 

sure its a waste of time to have his best friend look for something thats not lost, an even bigger waste of time to lie about not having it , but he hes grown to anticipate her company, and how else can he get her to stay behind after class? 

if she doesn’t have anything to wait on after the bell rings, she’ll walk home with her friends, and he can’t make poor attempts to impress her while he walks her home instead!

⸝⸝

at first it was him telling her that their teacher wanted to meet with her after school, so she would tell her friends to go on without her and he would wait somewhere in the hallway endearingly creepily until…

“katsuki what’re you still doin' here? and sato-sensei didn't… need.. to meet with me?"

“hm. weirdo said he did, somethin about attendance…”

“what? I never miss school!” .ᐟ.ᐟ

“stop askin' questions and come on already! the hero apparel stores’ gonna close in an hour.” she quickly jogs to catch up for him and instinctively slides her bag off her shoulder for him to carry.

⸝⸝

“kastuki, katsuki? … katsuki!" he snaps out of his memories to her hands waving in his face.

“whatever, i'll just get you another one...”

“you don’t have to, I found it! ....

his expression remains plain for a while, until the realization hits him,

... in your pocket.” 

two very displeased eyes are staring back into his crimson ones; if his reputation was anything like that dumb nerds he’d burst out into tears and swim in apologies, but unfortunately his name is bakugou katsuki, so he has to think of some believable response to this unbelievable and totally unpredictable turn of events.

a comical silence fills the air between them for a few beats until 

“basically–

“basically, you’ve been stealing my “limited edition! - hero gel pen set! - only in select stores! – pens!"

“damn, do you have to say the name of the set every time? Makes you sound like a dweeb.”

“thats really rich coming from a thief!” her accusatory finger is pushing into the button on his uniform.

with faux irritation he wraps his hand around her index finger and moves it out of the way, simultaneously taking this opportunity to slip the pen from her grasp into his pocket once more.

she watches in disbelief as he throws her a his trademark grin before his heels turn to walk out of the classroom. he doesn't make it very far before he hears her tear her bag from her chair just to jog and ‘pester’ him for it back.

although he could have gone without getting caught, he didn't mind this outcome all that much.

but he’d never known that she enjoyed their time in class every day just as much as he did. or how she would advert her eyes and pretend to be focused on something else, as his hands abruptly swiped a pen from her pack–how she had to push down her giggle watching him try to act unsuspectingly after the act

and he definitely would never know that she saw the faint rose hue that would bloom from his nose to his ears when she would play with his wrist as they walked home–an action he would never let slide with anyone else. 

he could never figure out why he enjoyed her touch, maybe it was how gentle she was with him; different from what he was used to. 

she would never know how much he missed that same touch when they both shrugged off each other when they would reach her mailbox. or how he felt unworthy of her disguised affection when her dad would shut their front door with a frown at the sight of katsuki. 

he would never know of the butterflies she got while eagerly waiting to see him the next day and do it all over again.

but they both knew that she had a dozen of those pens at home, and absolutely did not give a damn about that particular pen. and every all might super fan knows that his merchandise is sold separately.

ᯓ

there's a mother and her son strolling up the road to his left. presumably walking back from the sports festival, as many others are. her kid’s beaming about how cool it was, and shoto just placed second, he should be celebrating, shouldn’t he? 

his mom turns to ruffle her son's hair, fingers coated with love and honey, “sounds like you had a good time!” she remarks, her words laced with affection.

his eyes lock back onto the road in front of him, yet he can’t help but feel some kind of jealousy–even towards a five year old. he can point out very few memories of his mothers warmth. not that.. he’d ever blame her for that. she was a warrior for putting up with what she did.

the red glow from the stoplight turns green, forcing his train of thought to a halt. he wonders if fear is still what his mother feels at the sight of his face. his past fear of that very truth was the restraint that kept him from visiting all those years. 

𐔌

but this time, that street holds a different meaning to him, a much more welcome meaning. 

it looks a bit different after the post-war reconstruction years back. trees are inconsistent, and houses are rearranged. yet the charm of the original neighborhood remains–only to the ones who witnessed it before.

“daddy, is grandma gonna make those soba noodles?” a child's voice calls out towards him.

his daughter, all giddy, squeezing his aged finger as he walks her up the reconstructed street

 this time, he was sent on a run by his wife–she said they needed a few ingredients for the ‘special noodles’–a poor attempt to conceal that they were making him and their daughters shared favorite food.

his usually unreadable face was deciphered instantly by his daughter, who was now brimming with joy at his unintentional confirmation. he tends to forget that his face is much more expressive now than it once was. "shhh, don’t tell mommy that I told you–”

“really really! im so excited!” she exclaims, and he meets her eyes that don’t look to him in fear, paired with a smile so sincere only a child could possess.

ᯓ

they begin to slow down as they reach his family home. old memories now faded by more vibrant ones. the brightest, a gift from the woman awaiting him inside–accompanied by his family. 

…

‎ꫂ your feet plant themselves into the sand while you let yourself get comfortable on his shoulder. he brushes the now dried sand off your legs, a soft giggle sounds into the air as he pinches your thigh.

‎ꫂ you nudge his jaw with your head, he tilts his head from its spot resting over yours, his attention now on your face, “..hm?”

‎ꫂ you bite the inside of your cheek, “have i ever told you how much i love you, tama?” 

‎ꫂ your voice is velvet on his ears, your warm breath sending tingles across his collarbone.

‎the heat climbs up his neck instantly,

‎ꫂ he averts his eyes, his reply almost a whisper, “yes, you do… e..every day.” he just hides in your neck, trying to ignore the way he stammered through his sentence—the way your fingers drum up his spine isn’t helping.