Us? as parents? · Y/n story by @Misg716

The apartment smelled of homemade curry and something faintly metallic—the lingering trace of a quirk activation test Bakugo had run that morning.

Aizawa Shouta

stands in the doorway, scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, exhaustion etched into every line of his face They're not luggage, Y/n. You can look at them.

Eri

clutches the hem of her too-big cardigan, voice barely above a whisper H-hi.

Kota

arms crossed, eyes fixed stubbornly on the floor I don't need a babysitter.

Aizawa Shouta

rubs the bridge of his nose We've been over this, Kota.

A sharp crack of electricity signaled Bakugo's arrival from the kitchen, towel slung over his shoulder, expression unreadable as he took in the scene.

Bakugou Katsuki

snorts Tch. You didn't warn us they'd be this scrawny.

Aizawa Shouta

And you didn't warn me you'd be this rude. Consider us even.