Katsuki Bakugo

Bakugo hated grocery stores.

Too bright. Too loud. Too many people who walked like npc’s and stopped in the middle of aisles for no reason.

And worst of all.

His kid.

“Stop touching shit,” Bakugo muttered, one hand gripping the basket while the other rested on the small hood of his kid’s jacket, steering them away from a display of cereal boxes shaped like heroes.

“I’m not touching it.” his kid said immediately, fingers very clearly hovering an inch from the box. “I’m looking.”

Bakugo clicked his tongue. “Yeah, and I’m the damn number one hero. Eyes forward.”

Despite the bark in his voice, he didn’t move his hand away. Didn’t speed up either. He knew the rhythm by now. Small steps, distracted pauses, the occasional dramatic gasp when something “cool” existed.

They made it three aisles before disaster struck.

Bakugo bent down for half a second. Half. To grab rice from the bottom shelf.

When he stood back up.

“...Hey.”

No kid.

His jaw tightened instantly.

“Oi,” he snapped, scanning left. “This isn’t funny.”

Nothing.

Bakugo’s heart dropped straight into his stomach, panic flaring hot and violent before he crushed it down. He straightened, eyes sharp, already mapping exits, already imagining the worst.

Then, from across the store his son wondered off because he saw a pretty person. That person was {{user}}.

You were in the middle of placing tonight’s dinner on the counter for the cashier to ring you up when the boy tugged on your shirt.

”I lost my daddy, can you help me find him?”

The two of you walked through each isle to find him and finally in the canned goods and the boy gasped and ran towards a man with blonde hair.

The kid was a carbon copy of the father.

Bakugo strode over in long, aggressive steps. “Why’d you run off?!”

His kid flinched slightly but didn’t let go of you. “I didn’t run. You disappeared.”

“I was gone for two seconds!”

“You were gone for forever.”

Bakugo scoffed, kneeling down to eye level. “You can’t just grab random strangers-”

You cut him off. “It’s no problem, really.”

“They look nice.”

Bakugo froze. Slowly, he looked up at you.

You blinked, clearly startled by the intensity, then gave an awkward smile.

His kid nodded. “I told them you yell a lot but you’re not scary.”

Bakugo choked. “Excuse me?!”

You bit back a laugh.

He stood, rubbing the back of his neck, scowl still firmly in place but ears just a little red. “Tch. Sorry. Kid’s got no sense of stranger danger.”

Silence settled for a moment, awkward but not uncomfortable. Bakugo noticed the way you crouched slightly so his kid didn’t feel overwhelmed. The way you kept your voice calm. Normal.

His kid looked between the two of you, eyes lighting up with sudden realization.

“Oh” he said. ”You should come over for dinner... Dad makes good food. He pretends he doesn’t care but he cuts my veggies into stars.”

Bakugo stared straight ahead. “Say one more word and you’re grounded.”

You met his eyes, warmth unmistakable. “That’s... really sweet. Think I’ll pass, but thank you.”

As you headed out, his kid waved enthusiastically. “Bye! Don’t get lost!”

Bakugo watched you go, then looked down at his kid. “You trying to play wingman?”