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alt-bebita · 3 years ago

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Misunderstandings and Jam

b.katsuki / f.reader

genre: dad!bakugou, mom!reader, married au, domestic lol

additional/warning(s): baku-daughter is misuzu, she's a sweet lil girl, misuzu misunderstands the phrase 'daddys girl', she also cries (a few times), shit is just fluffy with a very wholesome family dynamic

w.count: 4.6k

synopsis: you've just recently returned to work after some time off to spend with your daughter. you're caught up in an interview asking about how your home life is- as intrusive as that is. you explain that your daughter is definitely a total daddy's girl. misuzu hears that and is now on a mission to prove she loves her mom just as much as her dad.

-x-x-x-

a/n: accidentally falling in love with misuzu whoops

-x-x-x-

"Daddy!" The little girl with wavy, shoulder-length blonde locks and who only came up to her father's thigh in height breaks into a wide, cheerful grin as her equally blond dad pulls into the elementary school's pick-up lane. Knowing damn well he wasn't allowed to park, he scoffs and smiles to himself inside the vehicle and parks it. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he lifts himself from the driver's seat and steps out to greet his little girl.

"Suzu!" He calls back, mocking her high-pitched call of delight. He rounds the car, stopping at the curbside and kneeling to catch the speeding bullet that is his 7-year-old daughter. She crashes into his chest, chock-full of giggles that only succeeds in pulling small, intermitting laughs from her father.

Although she was delighted to see her father, Misuzu was slightly confused about why he was picking her up from school. Typically, he would be in the middle of work right now, especially on the weekdays. Pulling away from him and only keeping him at arm's length, she looks up at Katsuki.

"Daddy, why are you picking me up today? Where's mommy?"

"Well," he begins, gently pushing the straps of her backpack off her shoulders so he could take it from her, "mommy had some very important last-minute work stuff to do. So, you're stuck with mean ole daddy." His face breaks into a playful smirk that shows his upper gums as he begins attacking his daughter's sides in small pinches, causing her to squirm and laugh. He stops as soon as her cheeks were flushed and quickly follows up his attacks with kisses to the top of her head.

Anyone who knew of Katsuki would be shocked to see just how gently and playfully he interacts with the little girl who looks so much like him. Throughout his entire hero career, he always made sure to carry himself with ego-reeking pride and a very nose-high attitude when it came to blowing away any threats that came his way.

It was always quite the scene to see such a rough, force-driven man devolve into a mushy man made up of soft dad genes. No one could ever say he didn't love his child.

Standing, he takes Misuzu's hand in his and her backpack in his other as he unlocks the backseat of his car. Helping her inside, he buckles her securely into her booster seat. She may be seven now, but she was still too short to go without one. And it's not like she hasn't fought to not sit in it before; so, until she gets to the proper height, he asks her to keep using it for her own safety.

Closing her door, he walks to the other side of the car, opening the back door, setting her bag on the floorboard, and then opens his own door to get in.

Starting up the car, he glances into the rearview mirror to see Misuzu waving out the window to her friends who wave back before going off to be picked up themselves.

The drive home starts off silent before Katsuki clicks on the radio. Immediately, the voice of an interviewer sounds into the space of the car. Ready to change the station to something more entertaining for his daughter, Misuzu was quickly telling him to leave it on because of the second voice that follows after the interviewer.

"That's mommy!" She squeals, making Katsuki inwardly wince at the shrill sound.

"Lower your voice, Girlie," he tells her. He's been calling her that since she was an infant. The nickname just sort of stuck with him, and she didn't seem to mind it either, so there was no telling when, or if, it would ever go away.

"Sorry," she quickly apologizes, "but can we listen to mommy?"

"If you really want to," he chuckles, pulling his hand away from the station buttons and instead turns the dial to up the volume. Misuzu seems to glow in the backseat at the sound of your voice. "This is what mommy had to rush off to do today. Last-minute interview."

The two of them listen to the back and forth banter and questions for a bit. They would even occasionally interupt the interview with their own voices and thoughts as some sort of live, solitary commetary.

"Suzu," Kastuki calls, looking back at her through the rearview while stopped at a traffic light. She hums back, signalling to her father she was listening while staring out the car window. "What do you want for dinner tonight? Your mother said I could cook."

Her eyes brightened as her small hands clenched into excited fists that came up to her chest. Katsuki usually only cooks on weekends when he could spare the extra time since he always works so late on weekdays. So, having him cook dinner on a weekday was an unusual treat.

"Hamburger steak!"

"Hmm," he hums, as Misuzu kicks her legs. "Okay, if you really want hamburgers, you have to promise to eat the broccoli and carrots with it too."

The little girl opens her mouth and produces an overdramatic 'yuck' at the thought. She could handle carrots, fine, but broccoli was always a challenge for her. Of course, if push came to shove and she really truly didn't want to eat the green veggie, you'd just substitute more carrots in their place.

Katsuki and you both made it a habit to be open-minded with your growing daughter and her food preferences. Always trying to balance her meals with only a few snacks a day and some sweets on the side. Never forcing her to eat foods she dislikes and never getting angry if she tries a portion of new food and doesn't like it. As long as she tries at least one bite, that was enough.

"Can we have corn instead of broccoli?" She tries bargaining. If memory serves, there should still be a foam tray of wrapped cobbed corn sitting in his fridge crisper. He taps his index finger on the steering wheel before turning it as soon as the light changes from red to green.

"Corn huh? I guess we can swap it out for broccoli."

"Yes," she hisses in victory as she leans back in her booster and resumes looking out the window, gloating in her victory. The newfound silence gives full control back to the interview that gains Katsuki's attention when the interviewer mentions life at home.

He rolls his eyes.

The media really couldn't just keep their nose out of anything, could they? It wasn't their house, their family, or their business. If it were him in your shoes, he would tell them to shove off and leave his family out of interviews unless they chose to be included beforehand.

Still, you answered.

"Homelife? As typical as any other happy household. Spending time with my daughter and husband, no matter how short or long, is all I can really ask for."

Katsuki could hear the smile in your voice.

"Your little daughter is in school now, correct? How is she adjusting to school life? Is it hard to raise a child and have both parents be busy as active pros?"

Okay, forget the interview questions. That was borderline prying. The spiky blond bit back a curse, not wanting to let his young child in the back hear such nasty words straight from his mouth.

"She's doing wonderfully at school," Misuzu buzzes in giddiness at her mother's praise over the radio. "As for us parents, she's very understanding of Ground Zero's schedule as well as my own."

"Would you say she takes more after yourself or your husband then?"

"Misuzu is her own person. She definitely doesn't have his temperament, but she sure is crafty. Still, she's a very kind and sweet child. Though, Misuzu is absolutely a daddy's girl, she adores him to pieces."

Any further questions that were aimed at your home life were graciously and kindly directed away. You felt like you had talked about your husband and child enough for an interview about your hero work.

It's quiet for a bit and the interview ends, replaced with a mindnumbing, elevator-esque music genre. Before he could swap stations, his daughter speaks up from the back again.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?" He replies, keeping his eyes on the road that would quickly lead to their home.

"What does being a 'daddy's girl' mean?"

"It means that you love your daddy," he answers easily, effortlessly pulling the car into the driveway of your home and opening the garage door with the button in his car. "And that you like spending time with me."

As he parks the car, he's turning the volume dial to the radio down so it doesn't blare the next time the car is started. He's also checking to make sure everything is set for the next ride and nothing is misplaced, going so far as to straighten the wheels. He's interrupted by a small sniffle behind him.

He freezes before he's twisting around to see his daughter, teary-eyed and grabbing at the bottom hem of her shirt.

"Misuzu, what's wrong?" He coos from the front as she sniffles and brings one hand up to push the heel of her palm against her cheeks up to her eyes.

He's jumping out of the car when she doesn't answer him and rounding it in quick jogs to open her door. She's already fiddling clumsily with her booster straps to free herself from the seat and when Katsuki helps undo it all, she all but flops into his arms and cries.

She's wrapping her small arms around his neck, crying and sniffling into his shoulder as he rubs her head and back. Shushing her gently he tries again.

"What's wrong? Do you not feel well? Stomach ache or something?"

She shakes her head not lifting it from where it's hidden in her father's shoulder and he just sighs. Remaining knelt by the cooling down car, he just soothes her until her cries die down to hiccups and she was able to talk.

"I love mommy," Misuzu's choked voice garbles out. Katsuki's brow furrows.

"I know you do. Mommy loves you too, you know that."

"But- but she said I'm a daddys girl," she sniffles again trying to enunciate the words. "A-and you said that that means I love daddy more." He cocks his head but seals his lips. He most definitely did not say that you loved him more. "Does mommy think I don't love her?"

Before he can begin to try and ease his little girl's worries, Misuzu all but gets caught up in a new round of fits and tears at the thought of you thinking she didn't love you too. He once again takes her in his arms, but this time lifting her up.

Holding the girl to his chest, she squeezes her arms around his neck tighter. Her small legs hung on either side of his hips while one of his arms stay under her rear to keep her supported. The other shut the car door and locked it with the push of the button his keyring. Making a mental note to grab her backpack out of the car later.

He continues to coo her into settling down while he enters the house as she continues to weep over the dilemma that wasn't even a dilemma in the first place.

Oh man, he thinks to himself as he steps inside the house. How was he going to work through this?

-x-x-x-

You arrive hom and park your own vehicle into the driveway next to Katsuki's as you grab for your small bag resting on the passenger seat and exit the still-warm car. Fishing your keys from your pocket, you open your front door and step inside, feeling yourself relax at finally being back home.

"I'm back!" You call out, hanging your keys up on the four-pronged key holder Kirishima had bought you guys as a housewarming gift. Katsuki thought it was lame, but you thought it was thoughtful enough he got you guys anything- plus it was useful.

Before you could heel off your shoes, from around the corner, a small figure is dashing straight towards you.

"Mommy!" Misuzu cheers as you quickly scoop her up from under her arms and lift her to your height. She giggles as her legs that were on either side of your waist kick making her heels bounce off your hips. Your hands were clasped under her as she held onto the front of your shirt in small fistfulls.

"Hello to you too, Little Bullet." Misuzu giggles at the nickname only reserved for when she was running around with far too much energy. You walk with your daughter in your arms into the living room where Katsuki was sitting in the middle of the couch, one arm on the back of the cushions and the other holding the remote to the tv, lazily flipping through channels.

"Daddy, mommy's home!" Misuzu calls from the hall into the living room.

He lifts head, twisting it to look behind at you carrying the little blonde and walking to the back of the couch. He cranes his neck to look up at you as Misuzu twists in your arms to look at what was playing on the tv the best she could. It was some random documentary he stopped on in the midst of channel surfing.

"I'm back," you repeat softly as you set Misuzu down gently to let her go and resume playing. Leaning down to gently greet your husband with a small kiss as he smiles up to you.

"How was it today?"

"Typical," you shrug as you round the couch to properly sit beside him on the cushions in front of Katsuki's arm that rested on the top of it. His limp hand moved to rub your shoulder.

"I hope you're okay with hamburger steak for dinner."

You chuckle a little before leaning slightly into Katsuki's side, letting all the tension from the day continue to fall away from you like chipped, dry dirt.

"Suzu decided on that, huh?"

"Yeah, and we broke a deal for corn and carrots instead of broccoli and carrots. You want the corn baked or boiled?"

"Hmmm, boiled tonight."

Katsuki hummed in affirmation before adding in a small 'I'll start cooking soon', before Misuzu was rushing back into the living room with a book in her hand.

This particular book was one ranging for young to junior ages. About 15 short chapters and barely 200 pages long. However, it was filled with magic and adventure and it happened to be Misuzu's favorite book to be read right now.

"Mommy," she stands in front of you as you straighen your posture, pulling away from leaning on Katsuki. "Can we read this again?"

You teasingly tap your cheek before you gently took the outstretched book offered to you. Without verbal confirmation, your daughter knew she was getting what she wanted. She crawls up on the couch, slotting herself in your lap and leaning her head against your chest.

"on that note," Katsuki huffs as he gets off the couch, "you two read away and I'll start dinner." You look up at Katsuki as he stretches, the book your child eagerly awaits for you to open in your hands.

"If you need any help, just shout."

"I can handle making food, moron," Katsuki breathes with a soft smile. Reaching out, he gently runs the back of his index finger along your cheek down to your chin. "Read Girlie her book."

As he walks to the kitchen and away from the living room, the sounds of the low volumne tv and you beginning to read the book you've read at least 10 times grown distant to his ears.

As he starts taking pans and pots out of cabinets and food from the fridge and pantry, he scoffs to himself and his lips lift into a smirk that offers a peek his gums. He remembers the words his daughter declared as soon as she calmed down from her crying fits with clenched fists and fire in her eyes that resembled his own ambitious embers.

"I'm going to spend so much time with mommy today that I'll have to be mommy's girl too!"

Katsuki swears he could see steam shoot from her nostrils with each breath at her declaration. Amping herself up for the very near mommy-daughter time.

"I'm not even going to correct her," Katsuki tells to himself about the issue. It wasn't as if you were just on time off to spend with her; but he's goint let Misuzu do what she wants since it's all harmless anyways. It wasn't like she was hurting anyone by spending time with her mother.

-x-x-x-

All throughout the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Misuzu was glued to you. She had always been a clingy child, wanting to be played with or carried or included in anyway she could. She'd even willingly help with chores just to spend time with one of her parents; or at least she'd try and help.

Misuzu was in your lap while you read to her, she was trailing hot on your heels when you were walking around the house, she was standing outside in the hall when you were in the bathroom, and she even scooched her chair closer to yours at the dinner table.

As you ate, Misuzu was quick to start any conversations she could. Although her goal was to get your attention and spend time with you, she felt like she was leaving her dad out. She knew he knew of her plan, but she still wants to include him in dinnertime chitchat.

"Guess what I learned in school today," she opens conversation as she pops a piece of carrot in her mouth. Katsuki and you both hum. "I learned my multiplaction table. Did you know that something can be multiplied 12 times?"

"Kiddo," you start, chuckling and wiping at the corner her lips when she smears hamburger sauce on them. "You can multipliy numbers much more than 12 times."

"Really?!"

"If you keep talking and avoiding the rest of your vegetables on that plate, I'll multiply them," Katsuki emptily threatens, taking a hearty bite out of his corn cob.

"How about we challenge for veggies, dad!" Misuzu only ever refers to Katsuki as 'Dad' when she was ready to wager something or play a prank. It always made him smirk and then their eyes would match in fiery compition.

"Ohhh?" He drew out.

Misuzu threw out her fist. "Rock, paper, scissors for the rest of the veggies on my plate. If I win, you have to eat alllll of my veggies for me."

"Only on the condition that if you lose, you have to finish them off before you finish your hambuger and the rest of my carrots." Katsuki pointed at the four remaining side carrots on his plate with his chopsticks. You could see Misuzu's determination falter before you pat her back.

"I believe in you, Suzu!" You lightly cheer. Her eyes light up with stars as Katsuki fakes a pout.

"You're on her side and not mine? I'm your husband," he fakes in offense. You shrug and lean back, playing pacifist.

Needless to say, three rounds of rock, paper, scissors later, Misuzu was pouting as she scarfed down her vegetables as quickly as possible. Although, as token of good faith, Katsuki ate the rest of his carrots on his own.

After dinner, Katsuki goes to wash up for the night as Misuzu helps you with dinner clean up. She was taking plates and putting left overs in the containers you gave her before giving you the dirty dishes to wash. You were wiping off the counters and sink while Misuzu wipes down the table when Katsuki comes in with still damp hair and a towel on his head.

"Bathrooms empty if you want to shower and clean up." You nod as Misuzu goes to follow you yet again. However, she had already been cleaned off the day, taking a bath after she came home and had stopped crying. It was a comfort thing, after every bad fit or tempertanturm, she would fully calm down with a bubbly bath with one of her parents fawning over her.

Katsuki was quick to scoop her up, holding her tightly like the princess she is as he made sure she wouldn't slip from his hold.

"Why not let mom go and get cleaned up on her own? We can wait for her in the living room, okay?" Misuzu thought it over before she was nodding. "Good girl."

You trot to the bathroom and start undressing, more than ready to wash off the days events. The shower was something much needed as the last chips of exhasution finally fell off your shoulders. The hot water soothing your aching back and steam relaxing your senses.

When you came out of the shower, dressed and fresh the first thing on your mind was prepping Misuzu's lunch for the next day before you forgot or got too tired to do it. Going into the kitchen, you grab for the loaf of bread in the cupboard and then snatch her favorite strawberry jam and smooth peanut butter.

As you were cutting the crust from the bread's edge, since Misuzu was picky about bread crusts, you feel her behind you. Latching onto the back of both your legs, one arm linked around each.

"Yes, Sweetie?" You hum softly as you hear her very faintly yawn.

"I help," he tiredly whines, releasing one of your legs to rub at her eyes. You could tell what she was doing without even looking at her and you smile, setting the crustless bread pieces on the clean countertop.

"Not right now, baby," you coo. "You're a lttle too sleepy."

"'m not sleepy."

"Uh-huh, you want to know who else says that?" There was a brief pause. "Daddy does." You momentarily get lost in thought about how much of Katsuki was truly present in her small, gentle persona. Her fiery competitiveness, her drive to achieve things no matter how small they seem, and of course her stubborn nature. You were brought out of those thoughts the moment you heard the smallest sniffle behind you.

You had been spreading the tan peanut spread on a piece of bread before you immedately set it down and twist your upper body to look down at the top of your daughter's head. Her chin was down, tucked close to her chest as her forehead was pushing into the back of your thighs. Her shoulders jump occassionally with small sniffs, like she was trying to hide the fact she was most definitely crying.

"Oh, Sweetheart," you coo, gently detaching her from your legs and bending down to kneel on both knees in front of her. You take her hands into your own and hold them softly as she continues to sniffle while fat tears slowly trail down her cheeks. You could tell by her tense face she was trying to get them to stop. "What's wrong?"

"I love you, Mommy."

You raise one hand to her cheek, gently swiping away a tear that is quickly replaced by another. Her skin was flushed and warm to the touch because of her emotions.

"I know that, Baby. I love you too."

"I love you just as much as I love Daddy."

"I know," you gently repeat.

"So, I'm not just daddy's girl?" Your brow quirks at her question. Instantly you were confused. Your confusion was short lived however, when Katsuki comes into the kitchen, standing in the doorway with his shoulder against the wall.

"She heard your interview on the radio and thinks that her being a daddy's girl is something bad when it comes to her mom." There's a small smile on his lips and you could tell it was a conflicted one.

Conflicted in the sense that firstly, he has already been through at least two of these misunderstanding tantrums and secondly, he hates seeing his daughter upset, much less crying. And finding the situation a little silly along with it all.

Misuzu shuffles to get closer to you, latching her arms around your neck the best she could. Your arms engulf her tiny little body as you shush and rock her side to side, rubbing up and down her back reassuredly.

"Misuzu," you call to get her attention. She slowly pulls away from you as you hold her shoulders and keep her in front of you. You push your forehead against hers and make her lock eyes with you. "Being a daddy's girl doesn't mean that you love me anyless."

"But you said-"

"I know," you nod slightly, "I know what I said. It's not a bad thing, Sweetheart. Loving your dad isn't bad at all, so you don't need to cry over it."

"Can I be a mommy's girl too?" She sniffles and you have half a mind to lay on the floor and scream. Your daughter was just too cute.

"Yes," you lightly breathe with a laugh in your voice. "You most certainly can be a mommy's girl too."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

She sniffles once more before wiping haphazardly at her face, clearing it of all tear stains. She glances up at the counter and then back down at you with doey, wet eyes.

"Can I have extra jam on my sandwich?"

You laugh before you kiss her head and sweep her up into your arms before standing and swaying her around.

"Of course." It didn't take long of you swaying her that she was out like a light. She was still young, so all the crying she'd done throughout the afternoon and evening had tuckered her out as she slept against your chest. Arms hanging limp over your shoulders and cheek smooshed just under your chin.

Katsuki made his way over and gently ran his fingertips over her spine, relaxing her further as she slept. His other hand came to wrap around your back and settle on your hip, lightly massaging it with his thumb.

"She's cried enough to fill four jars today, I swear," he scoffs quietly at his daughter puffy face.

"She's only 7, this is serious stuff," you jokingly testify on Misuzu's behalf.

Katsuki steps just a milimeter close to you, tugging you closer to his body by your hip and kisses you easily. It's long and warm and loving. His hand on your hip tightens as he's pushing down further on your lips, trying to silently convey everything he's feeling into you without the use of words. By the way he feels you smiling back against his lips, he knows you understand.

You always do.

Pulling away, your cheeks are warm and he nestles against your nose with his own.

"I love you too," you quietly tell him. Soon, he's taking misuzu from you and easily walking her into her room where he tucks her into bed and lets her sleep for the night. The rest of the evening he's stuck to you.

Wrapping his arms around your middle in the kitchen while you finish tomorrow's lunches. Leaning against you on the couch while he toys and spins the wedding band resting on your finger that matches his. Snatching and holding your pinky as you walk to the bedroom ahead of him, ready to sleep. And holding you as close as possible as you both lay on the mattress.

He was happy his daughter loved you, but maybe he missed all his opputurnitys to cling to you today too.

Oh well, he sighs against your head as you were tucked under his chin. He's got you know and for the rest of his life, so what's one day lost to his kid?

-x-x-x-

a/n pt2: wow this got longer than i thought. whoops x2 (feedback feedback feedback- i chant into a megaphone manifesting it)

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alt-bebita · 3 years ago

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Dad!Bakugo is the king of emotional regulation and attentive parenting, literally from conception.

Mans has an entire shelf in his office dedicated to parenting books, in order of age and starting with pregnancy. Not too long after you give him a daughter with red eyes and dirty blonde hair, you pop into his office to see him leaned back in his recliner, holding her with one strong arm as she sleeps against his bare chest and reading a peaceful parenting book, barely shifting to flip the pages. He glances up at you, staring isn't very nice, mama, and you remark that you're just admiring the view. He sees you looking at the book and, unprompted, says I was a little terrorist growing up. There's a 50/50 chance that baby girl can end up with explosions, and I nearly leveled the house as a kid. If I can give her the head start I didn't have...

You do your best to teach her to communicate what she can using sign language and flash cards and teaching her everything you can so she can show you what hurts. When your daughter has her first tantrum, the both of you are ready.

Or at least…you think you are.

It happens in public when she's almost two, the three of you are at an event for heroes when she shows small signs of being frustrated. Katsuki kneels to try and see what she needs, and she pushes daddy's hands away, knocking herself onto her bottom as a result. Her lower lip quivers and the meltdown starts, crying and kicking her tiny feet and hands waving. Katsuki attempts to pick her up to soothe her, but it does nothing. She kicks and cries and yells and shoves, swats at you when you try to take her away, demands to be put down, stomps her feet until she falls again. People around the two of you begin to murmur about how she's just like her father, angry and explosive.

Katsuki, for the first time in his life, freezes in the face of a crisis. He looks near tears and defeated, as if he's failed your baby girl already, as if he's questioning his fitness to be a father because he doesn't know what she needs, and he feels like he should just know! He's her daddy! He's loved her from the minute he found out you were pregnant! He used to press his lips to your belly and sing in a soft baritone to her, he holds conversations with her while she babbles nonsense and he replies like the words were plain as day, surely he should know what she's communicating right now.

You turn to reprimand the onlookers behind you for judging a first time father and a toddler, when you suddenly recognize that she's not flailing. She's signing. You motion to Izuku to back the onlookers up, tell them to give your family room because they're witnessing a deeply personal moment.

You put a hand on your overwhelmed husband's chin, turn him to look at you, guide him through deep breaths while you gently stroke his cheek, subtly wiping frustrated tears of his own away before kissing the tip of his nose.

Look at your daughter, Katsuki. What do you see? Look at her hands. What is she telling us?

I don't...I can--

We're Bakugos. We can do anything. Just look at her. Take a deep breath and look at her.

Katsuki closes his eyes. Inhales. Exhales. Turns to his daughter and looks.

Her little feet are kicking and her little fists are rapidly tapping together, and he realizes it's a rhythm. tap tap. tap tap. tap tap. tap tap.

He looks at you in realization, turns to your child, is it your shoes? Do your shoes hurt? Do your feet hurt?

She continues to kickkickkick and Katsuki reaches forward to still one tiny foot, thumbs pressing at the toe. He turns to you, honey...her shoes. her shoes feel too tight. Her little toes have enough room, but what if her foot is too wide?

Katsuki pulls one Mary Jane shoe free, and the tantrum dwindles. Your daughter holds up the other foot with a soft whimper, teary eyes round as saucers as she looks at you. You pull the other shoe loose, and she stops kicking, still fussy. You sweep her up in your arms and sit on a nearby bench while Katsuki snatches her socks off too, looking at the sides of her feet to find them pinkish red and irritated.

How did we miss this? Katsuki whispers as he sets to rubbing your baby's feet, wiping them with aloe wipes, and kissing tiny toes until she giggles.

We didn't dress her this morning. You whisper back between singing to your daughter, Her grandparents did, and probably didn't notice. Accidents happen, baby. Nobody is perfect, but you handled this so perfectly.

He sits on the bench next to you, still gently rubbing your daughters feet. As her sobs stopped, she pulled at your shirt and Katsuki covered you with his jacket long enough for her latch to your breast before moving the jacket for her comfort.

As she nursed, she held his ring finger. The two of you softly sang to her, his gentle baritone matching your songbird soprano.

It's only love, they say,

Makes you feel this way.

She liked his eyes, she wanted more.

The baby's gonna have your smile for sure.

Heavy eyelids hid away ruby irises as you rocked her, ignoring flashing cameras in favor of looking up at your husband.

He saw a lovely girl, smelling sweet and soapy like fresh air.

She saw him looking, acting like she didn't care.

That's how we knew, and so love grew a flower.

The softest of snores fell from your daughter's lips, and you chose to carry her the three blocks to your house.

A flower that is you.

Every publication featured the two of you, especially Katsuki, singing to your daughter to soothe her. The headline? A photo of Katsuki kissing your forehead, hand on her head as she nursed herself to sleep, with the title

Your Daddy's Love Comes With A Lifetime Guarantee.

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