#bdwdb please forgive me anon & accept this soft fic

[dynyamight]

“Quit looking at me with that ugly mug” for the ask prompt!

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“Quit looking at me with that ugly mug. “

“I told you to hold still!” A shrill voice echoes.

“Don’t yell so loud, onee-san!”

“I’m not yelling!”

Under his bed covers, Bakugou winces. It’s worse that he’s overslept, but now he’s already dreading going downstairs to the loud, living room.

The morning has barely started, and it sounds like the damn rascal twins are causing trouble.

More or less, Mahoro, than Katsuma. But, Bakugou still considers him an accomplice, regardless.

After a long, needed yawn, Bakugou rolls his way out of his bed, bare footed against the tiled floor. The cool surface sends chills through his spine, and definitely helps to awake his senses. With the ends of his sweats dragging, he trudges out of his bedroom; the safe, beloved confines from parenthood.

He knows when the kids hear his heavy footsteps, when he hears Mahoro let out a loud, dramatic gasp. “Oh no! The oni ogre from upstairs is awake!”

Popping his head from the rail, Bakugou growls, “The hell you just called me?”

The kids immediately shriek, faces painted in panic from his sudden appearance. Bakugou can’t help, but puff out an airy laugh, as he eyes at their frightful expressions. Like two little deers in the headlights.

However, it is short lived. Blinking, Bakugou notices the kids are standing around Midoriya, seated with legs crossed on the floor, and back facing away.

He does find it weird that his usually affectionate husband has yet to greet him. But, after looking even closer, the floor had several makeup products scattered, open and ready for use.

When he looks back at the kids, brushes in hand, Bakugou can only suspect what is happening. “Izuku, what the actual-.”

And, just like that, Midoriya twists around, face blown with the most hideous combination of bright colors and wobbly line work.

At first, there’s a warm, bright smile, but it quickly falls. A frown replaces it. “Put on a shirt, Kacchan. The kids are here.”

“You wipe that ugly shit off your face, first!” Bakugou yells.

Immediately, Mahoro’s arms defensively hug around Midoriya’s neck. “No! We are not done with the painting!” She pouts.

“I ain’t letting you finish!” Bakugou quickly descends down the last stairs, swatting his hands in the air. “Go! Gather up everything, now!”

Midoriya holds Mahoro in one arm, and Katsuma in the other. “C’mon Kacchan, we’re having a family bonding experience. Let the kids finish, real quick.” He says softly, looking up at Bakugou.

Now, despite their plenty of years together, Bakugou’s absolutely weak to those wide eyes. They string him along to their every request, no matter how resilient, or stubborn he may be. All Midoriya had to do was look up, pleadingly.

And, his damn husband knew it worked like a charm, always.

“Thirty minutes.” Bakugou huffs, walking past them and towards the kitchen. “Breakfast should be ready by then.”

Mahoro awes, “How did you know we haven’t eaten yet?”

Of course they hadn’t. Bakugou rolls his eyes, “Because your dumbass father never eats breakfast, unless I cook. Don’t be like him.”

He hears Midoriya whine from behind, calling him out for being too mean in the morning. No matter, obviously he isn’t mean, if he’s going to cook their starving family a good, warm meal.

Tuning out the shouting and laughing from across the room, Bakugou swiftly made grilled shiozake, tomago, and warmed up last night’s rice. But, even after the thirty minutes ran out, Bakugou decided to not end their weird fun, right away.

Especially after he turned around, and saw the bright smiles from his two kids and Midoriya.

So, with an added half an hour, Bakugou made a simple miso soup. Nothing too fancy or big. Just enough to make the kid’s eyes boggle at how much food was on the table.

And, that’s exactly the reaction they give, when he finally calls them out, a little over an hour later.

Now, usually, after a family meal, the kids are in charge of washing the dishes. But instead, Midoriya chooses to help with the empty plates, ushering the kids to clean the living room.

When it’s finally just them, standing beside each other by the sink, Midoriya lets out a short laugh. “We didn’t mean to wake you up, Kacchan. I know you had a hard shift last night, so I had the kids try to whisper.”

Staring down at the running water over his hands, Bakugou scoffs as he tilts the last dirty plate. “It didn’t sound like it.”

“Well, maybe Mahoro meant to wake you.” Midoriya chuckles, “She was wanting to do your makeup, next.”

“Fat chance. If it ain’t liner, I won’t wear it.”

“If Katsuma was the one to ask you, I do think you would.”

Bakugou offers up his plate, for Midoriya to dry with a dish towel. When Midoriya takes it, he huffs. “Let me guess. It was Katsuma who got you caught up in that shit.”

Midoriya whines, “He’s just too cute, when he asks.”

Like father, like son. “I keep telling you, he’s an accomplice.”

“He’s a younger sibling.“ Midoriya corrects, offhandedly setting the plate on the drying rack. “Obviously, whatever Mahoro says, he wants to follow.”

“Tch. Same thing.”

“They just want to have fun, Kacchan! Besides, I think I look very kissable, and pretty.”

Quirking a brow, Bakugou side-eyes his husband. He meets Midoriya’s gaze, face powdered with blush all over, streaked with magenta and blue on his lids, and black liner squiggly lines on his forehead. Not to mention the red lipstick that circles all over his lips.

Looking away, Bakugou snorts, “Yeah, pretty stupid.”

Midoriya lands a good punch on his bare shoulder. It only makes Bakugou cackle even louder.

Bakugou doesn’t realize Midoriya’s leaning close, until he’s stopped laughing. He grimaces, getting an unfortunate, close look to the makeup. “Quit looking at me with that ugly mug, Izuku.”

Rolling his eyes, Midoriya slides his arms over Bakugou’s shoulders. “Kiss me, first.”

“No.”

Midoriya’s teasing smile falls. “Why?”

“You have that ugly shit still on your face. I ain’t kissing you with it.”

“Kacchan, are you-” Midoriya’s lower lip trembles, “Are you calling me ugly?”

“What- No, not you!” Bakugou growls, “I’m talking about the fucking-”

Midoriya throws his head back, letting out a sad sigh. “My husband no longer finds me attractive! My world is collapsing right in front of-!”

Immediately, Bakugou lifts up Midoriya’s chin, and brings his lips over his. With his eyes closed, Bakugou graciously blinded from the shit disaster on his husband’s face. Other than it feeling a bit sticky, the kiss still felt fluttery and sweet.

When they pull away, Midoriya’s already smirking. “You look good with a nice red lip.”

Fuming hot, Bakugou shoves away his husband, stomping out of the kitchen. And, like salt to his wounds, Mahoro and Katsuma giggle, pointing out his red lips.

He’s going back to bed.