"I can't believe we didn't make it to the beach."

Bakugo snorted, a smirk curling on his lips as he wrapped his arms around his girlfriend's waist. "Are you complaining?" he murmured, dropping a kiss behind her ear.

A little squeal left her lips as she melted into him. "No." She placed her hands over top of his as her eyes looked out at the water.

"Me either." Their beach vacation had turned into a weekend in bed.

On the couch.

In the bathtub.

The shower.

Kitchen counter.

That rug in the office that had left carpet burns on their knees and forearms.

And, his personal favorite, outside by the fire pit.

"We'll come back," Bakugo promised, resting his chin against her shoulder. "It's not like the old man is planning on selling this place." He was pretty sure his grandfather had acquired the property before he was born or shortly after. Either way…

"Yeah," she huffed, pouting a little bit as she swayed.

"The damn beach isn't going anywhere," he reminded her as he looked out to the water.

"I know." Those facts were pretty much a given. "I just can't imagine when we're gonna have time for this again."

Oh.

This had been the perfect window of time. Bakugo couldn't remember the last time they'd had a weekend completely free.

"Well," he started, squeezing her tighter against him, "we'll just have to make time."

Uraraka sighed. Her shoulders folded down as tension released from her body. "How?" His words were sweet, but she couldn't imagine how'd they'd find time for another weekend like this. Things were only going to get busier at school. She couldn't imagine entry-level heroes having the luxury of being able to take off for the weekend. Even if they weren't working, they'd probably be put on call. "This might be the only time we have this," she whispered quietly as she squeezed his hands. Uraraka knew she was worried about bridges they hadn't crossed yet, but this weekend had given her a taste of something she never knew she craved. "We could always reschedule dinner with my parents? Spend the afternoon here? Get dinner and walk on the beach?" she proposed, tilting her head to look at him with a sweet grin.

"Tch, no-"

"Aww," she whined. The playful tone of her voice dipped down to a sad sour note. "They won't mind."

"Yeah, I don't need to give your father another damn reason to hate me." It was enough their parents knew exactly what they'd been up to this weekend before they'd even arrived. Bakugo wasn't about to make it worse by delaying their visit.

"My pa doesn't hate you," she assured, rolling her eyes. "And they would understand."

If they didn't kill him, his mother would. "No." His father would probably get a hit in too. "We said we'd be there for dinner."

She shrugged, "You could meet them during the holidays."

That was months away. "Tch."

Uraraka turned around, placing her hands on his chest. She looked up at him with heavy lids as she rose on her toes. Her lips ghosted over his as a small smirk wove on her lips. His heart stammered beneath her hands as the heat between them began to rise. "Please?" she whined.

A low chuckle vibrated from deep in his chest as Bakugo inhaled a tight breath. "You're a fucking brat," he whispered hoarsely, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"I'm not," she giggled softly as she affectionately rubbed their noses together. "I wish we could stay here." For the first time in a long time, she wanted to be away from hero work. "I like our happy hedonistic-"

Bakugo snorted.

"-vacation bubble."

"Me too." He'd never thought he'd be happy being away from the thing he wanted most.

The thing he thought he wanted most.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Turn there-"

"The fuck-"

"That's the road."

"What fucking road?!" Bakugo barked, gripping the steering wheel as he put his foot on the brake. He knew she was from a small town, but he hadn't expected the entire town to consist of one main road and nothing but dense forest and a view of mountains not too far away.

"The dirt road," Uraraka scooting forward as she pointed to the road ahead.

Bakugo squinted, whipping his head from Uraraka to where she was pointing frantically, "Angel face, what fucking road are you talking about?" He'd only seen one road since they'd arrived.

"Between the two trees-"

"That's not a road."

"It is," she nodded. "That's the road to get to my house."

His brows knitted as he shook his head, turning the car down the path she'd instructed, "Fuck me."

"Already did," she grinned, leaning near him with a proud smirk. "We could be doing that now if you weren't so worried about my parents' hating you because they don't."

He snorted, slowing down as the car rocked and wobbled along the road.

"And they won't," she assured him, placing a hand on his knee. "They would never."

"Tch," he breathed, looking at the little houses scattered on either side, "I'm pretty sure if we canceled it would knock off any brownie points I had a chance of getting."

"So you admit you want brownie points?" she grinned, leaning her head on his shoulder. Looking up at him, she hummed happily as she batted her eyelashes at him.

"I never fucking said I didn't." The little clusters of houses seemed to trickle off the further they drove. Large stretches of farmland and forest overtook their view as the continued down the road. "How long is this damn road?"

"You're gonna make a left after the light blue house," she told him, pointing. "It's cute you care what my parents' think about you."

"Why the hell wouldn't I?"

"Cause you don't care what anyone thinks about you," she told him sweetly as he turned. "I'm not saying it's a bad thing." Her fingers drummed along his thigh. "I wish I had that kind of confidence."

"I care about what people think," he frowned, looking at her for a moment. Bakugo didn't need to look into his peripheral vision to see the skeptical look. "I care what you think."

"I lay on top of you naked. Of course, you care what I think," she teased sweetly.

"Even before all that shit." He rolled his eyes, ignoring his body reacting to the memories of the weekend.

"I know," she whispered. "We're here."

The little house seemed dwarfed by the amount of land surrounding it. He'd expected to see construction equipment lingering somewhere in the foreground or background, not a few pieces old farming equipment sitting in front of a- "Is that fucking chicken coop?" And a barn?

"It is a fucking chicken coop," Uraraka chuckled as they made their way toward the house. "We used to have animals. But when money got tight, we couldn't afford to have them anymore. One of our neighbors still has animals-"

What neighbors? The closest neighbor was more than a few kilometers away at least.

"So we trade produce and tea leaves with them," she explained as he put the car in park. "You ready?" she questioned, looking to him with a gentle smile as she squeezed his leg.

Fuck no. "No."

"It's not a big deal."

"Speak for yourself."

"I think I recall my boyfriend saying those exact words to me when I arrived at his parents' house covered in like ten pounds of dirt," she drawled dramatically, looking at him from the corner of her eye. "Yeah, he told me that it wasn't a big deal and that his parents had to meet me eventually."

"That's bullshit."

"I told you to remember those words when our roles were reversed, and now," Uraraka leaned back in her seat and unfastened her seat belt, "here we are. Come on!" She gave him a quick kiss before exiting the car.

Bakugo took a deep breath in. "Fuck," he whispered, letting go of a tense breath as his head fell back against the headrest. He turned off the car, slowly stepping out of the vehicle.

Uraraka stood at the front of the car grinning at him. "They are going to love you."

His brows raised as he bit back a comment.

"Wait and see," she commented with a firm nod as she leaned down, slipping out of her shoes and socks.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

She tossed her shoes toward the porch as she walked toward a row of plants a few feet in front of the porch. "Gonna go grab a snack from the garden."

"So you took your damn shoes off?" What the hell was going on?

It wasn't cold, but it certainly wasn't warm enough for her to be strolling around without her shoes.

"You're gonna get pneumonia," he commented dryly as she stepped in front of him.

"I have a sweatshirt on," she shrugged, stepping in front of him with a grin. "Open your mouth."

His brows furrowed as he leaned away from her. "Why?"

She held up a bright red pepper, moving it toward his lips. "Try it."

"Did you just dig that out of the fucking dirt?" He stared at the pepper before narrowing his eyes at her.

"No," she told him, pushing a little closer to his face. "This grew off the vine, so there was no dirt to begin with when you really think about it."

Right.

"In theory," Uraraka shrugged, looking up at him brightly. "Look, at worst you'll crunch on a grain or two of dirt."

Ew.

"No different than getting a face full of dirt during combat practice," she grinned.

Bakugo snorted, "I wouldn't know." His brows raised with an arrogant smirk as he took a bite of the pepper.

"I hope that burns your mouth."

"Not even close," he told her, taking the last bite.

"Hmm." Her lips pressed together in a tight line as she fought back her amusement. "What a shame," she decided, taking his hand as she lead him toward the porch. "Come on!" Uraraka pulled him toward the door opening it. "Mama!" she called, stepping into the house.

Bakugo stood on the porch. "Was the fucking door unlocked?"

"We always keep it unlocked."

He slowly stepped into the house, eyes narrowed.

"If someone wants to work that hard, I mean-"

Unless a burglar had a particular interest in botany, Bakugo was convinced anyone who decided to rob this house would have trouble finding anything other than plants. There seemed to be a plant on every surface of the living room, and a few bright stone pots surrounding the old fireplace. The couches were worn, clearly used, and an inviting faded teal color unlike his mother's prized white couch in the formal living room. Handmade blankets were tossed over the back with mismatched throw pillows and books on the seat.

The dining room was set up a few yards in front of them, past a rundown staircase and a doorway covered by a brightly covered quilt. The table had plants on and above it and papers flooding the space in front of one of the seats.

"-more power to them," she grinned brightly as she rose on her toes, trying to get a peek of the kitchen. "I think they're out back."

Bakugo could smell something wonderful coming from the back of the house.

"Probably."

She pulled him toward the back of the house. "Mama!" she yelled, louder this time. "Papa! We're here!"

He was pretty sure there weren't this many plants at the park near school. "Pretty sure the damn neighbors know we're here!"

She huffed loudly as she passed through a quilt hanging over the doorway. "Mama!" she called as she tugged Bakugo behind her.

"Daughter," her mother grinned cheekily as she continued to fold dumplings. "Hello there." Her grin widened, eyes crinkling in bright amusement as she looked at Bakugo standing behind her daughter.

From hair to eyes to cheeks, Uraraka was the spitting image of her mother. "Hello," Bakugo murmured a greeting under his breath.

Uraraka stepped aside, moving to the other side of the counter as she watched. Her fingers crawled along the cutting board as she reached for a piece of ginger. "Mama this is-"

"I know who the boy is. You must be Katsuki," Hanako nodded as she placed another dumpling on the tray. "Do ya mind if I call you Katsuki? Ochako has already told us so much about you, I feel like we already know you."

He shook his head, unsure of how to respond as his eyes darted around the kitchen. More plants and tons of small knick-knacks filled the shelves and corners of the countertop. "It's fine, Uraraka-san."

Uraraka's eyes widened as she stared at her boyfriend from behind her mother's back. She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard him use an honorific.

"Oh, none of that," Hanako laughed brightly. "We ain't so formal around here. You can call me Ma-"

He didn't miss the bright flush on his girlfriend's face.

"-or Hanako or whatever you feel like."

Bakugo nodded, his own face starting to look like Uraraka's. Neither of them had missed her not so subtle inference about their relationship.

"You'll have to forgive my daughter," Hanako winked as she worked on another dumpling. Her eyes slide over to her daughter before going back to Bakugo. "I know we taught her better than to snatch food from the dirty cutting board."

"It's fine, Mama," Uraraka drawled, picking up another piece of ginger and munching on it. She placed a kiss to her mother's cheek before leaning her head against her shoulder.

"Until ya get sick from the raw meat."

Uraraka's fingers snatched a piece of green onion next. "Papa, got from the neighbors today, yeah? So it's fresh."

He wished she would use her Kansai dialect all the time. "You're gonna get worms."

Hanako chuckled, "Smart young man."

"That would imply the neighbor's stock has worms to begin with, and-" Uraraka defiantly picked up another piece of ginger. "-they ain't got any. It's fine."

"Well if ya gonna eat my supplies, you might wanna at least help."

Uraraka stuck out her tongue with a playful giggle before she grabbed another bite. "Snack first."

"I can do it." The words had flown out of Bakugo's mouth before he had a chance to think.

Hanako nodded, "Okay then. Ochako go get your Pa from outside, and we'll finish up here."

Uraraka paused, looking at Bakugo for a long moment.

He shrugged, moving toward the sink to wash his hands.

"Go on now," Hanako told her gently as she wiped her hands on the dishcloth. "It'll give me a chance to talk to Katsuki before your father begins his interrogation."

"Mama," Uraraka whined, giving her mother a pleading look as she walked toward the large open patio door, "please don't say that..."

"I'm not fixin' to lie to the boy," Hanako shrugged, casting Bakugo a soft crooked smile. "It won't be too bad."

Sighing loudly, she paused, turning her attention back to Bakugo. Uraraka tilted her head to the side raising her brows as she tried to silently communicate with Bakugo.

"You heard her," Bakugo nodded, walking back to the counter next to Uraraka's mother. "We got this."

"Okay," she answered, slowly stepping outside to find her father.

"Lemme guess," Hanako chuckled as Bakugo grabbed one of the wrappers, "she left her shoes somewhere out front?"

The question took him off guard. "Huh?"

"That girl doesn't like to wear shoes outside for some reason."

Oh. "She took them off once she got out of the da- car," he answered, quickly swallowing a curse word. At his own house, he wouldn't think twice about his language. He'd been cursing since elementary school, and sometimes it seemed like he and his mother trying to see who could fit more curse words in a single sentence. "Threw them on the porch." His eyes carefully moved to see if she'd noticed.

A soft smile curled on her lips as she moved to the sink. "When she was little, she'd lose her shoes in the field. We'd spend the better part of the day looking for her shoes."

He snorted as he worked on the dumplings.

"Tell me she's wearing shoes at school."

A chuckle escaped him.

"She says she does, but if I know my child I'd say she's running around heaven only knows where without her shoes…" Hanako trailed off with a loud laugh.

"She wears shoes." He couldn't think of a weird time he'd noticed her without them. Suddenly, Bakugo found himself recounting the last few months together. "Mostly." That first night they'd walked home after getting mochi and playing in the fountain, she'd walked barefoot most of the way.

"Good to know." Silence settled over them for a moment. Bakugo continued to fold dumplings, while Hanako peeled potatoes at the sink. "So, tell me about yourself."

Something he'd been dreading.

"Where'd ya grow up? Ochako said not too far from school, right?"

"Yeah," he answered, unsure what else to really say about it. He wasn't good at small talk. Typically, he avoided it or would let Uraraka lead in that dance. "Not too far." Every year they'd been forced to write personal bios about themselves, but Bakugo found it hard to get past the basics.

Name.

Hero name.

Age.

Height.

Quirk.

Hometown.

After that, he was never sure what to say.

"Definitely different from way out here, huh?" she winkled.

"Yeah. Ochako never mentioned she grew up on a farm." Bakugo couldn't think of a time it would have come up in discussion. It was something he was sure her friends' knew about her since they'd met her parents, but he wondered why she never mentioned it.

It was easier to think about this rather than try to talk about himself.

"Ain't much of a farm. I just really like all the plants."

"She mentioned your quirk works with plants?"

"It does. I don't know what she would've done if she didn't get the gravity quirk." A hum escaped her lips as she nodded, picking up another potato. "Ya know she almost didn't even go to U.A."

That didn't sound like his girlfriend. "What?"

"Yeah," Hanako confirmed, "her father and I practically had to drag her there cause she was so afraid she wouldn't fit in because no one ever leaves here. I mean, a few people move to the coast to work in the factories, but no one does what Ochako did."

He hadn't known.

"Did she tell you that her whole family is here?"

"I think so."

"I mean, not everyone," Hanako started, waving the knife as she gave a little shrug. "There are a few people right outside of town but everybody is in Mie and nothing but a short little ways away."

Bakugo nodded, "My parents' house isn't far from school." He wasn't sure if that was the right thing to say. She'd offered him information, and he figured she'd expected him to say something in return.

Uraraka unexpectedly met his parents after a hike, but his meeting had been planned. He hadn't come with a gift or wearing something fancier than a t-shirt and jeans, even though his mother had warned him otherwise. Uraraka had assured him dinner wasn't a big deal, and he'd accepted it.

Until he was in his girlfriend's tiny family kitchen, folding dumplings less than a yard away from her mother. "My, uh, grandparents aren't far. Well, my old man's folks are close." He didn't have the energy to recall where his mother's parents lived.

"Only child?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Cousins?"

"Yeah," he answered with a nod, "a lot."

"Just like Ochako," Hanako chuckled softly as she moved toward the wood stove on the other wall. "One of my sisters and her kids live by the main road, and Reito's brothers are a ways down."

"I think I have family not too far from here." His mother had mentioned something about it when they'd had dinner at his parents' house.

"Probably toward the city, huh?" she guessed.

"Think so." Her guess was as good as his. "I've never visited them there." Not to his knowledge. Since middle school, he'd been so focused on getting into U.A. that everything else had fallen to the side. "My mom's sister."

"Y'all could have stopped over to see your aunt on ya way here."

No. "Yeah." Not in a million years. "Maybe." Visiting his mother was expected, but he wasn't obligated to see one of his hag aunts unless it was a family gathering.

Hanako stepped next to him, wiping her hands on a kitchen rag. She looked at the dumplings before tilting her head to look up at him. "Great job."

"Thank you."

"Do you help your ma cook at home?" she questioned, moving back toward the uncut vegetables.

"No. I can finish those," Bakugo mumbled, moving to the sink. "I used to help my old man when I was younger." He couldn't remember the last time he'd done that. It had been one of his favorite things to do after school before he practiced using his quirk.

"Oh, okay," she nodded amused, watching as he worked on chopping vegetables. "You don't like small talk?"

Bakugo froze.

"Or talking about yourself, huh?"

Any chance he got to sport his ego was always welcome, but Bakugo was certain now wasn't the time for that. Her parents didn't want to hear about how great he was.

They wanted to hear about why he was worthy of their daughter. Strutting around like a peacock wouldn't get him anywhere. It didn't matter how powerful his blasts were or how strong he was. They were looking for things he hadn't ever thought to measure or put much effort into.

Humility.

Family.

Manners.

"I'm-" He'd walked himself right into a trap. "I don't." There was no point in lying about it. Her mother had seen right through him and had no problems letting him know.

She chuckled, "Ochako is just like her father and me. That girl can chat with anyone about any ol' thing."

"I have a friend like that." Kirishima was the same way. "It's not awful," he shrugged, keeping his eyes on the carrot he was chopping.

"It's sweet of you to tolerate your girlfriend's talkative mother."

He would have to be a fool not to. "It's not a big deal."

"You don't strike me as the kind of fella to do something he don't wanna," she noted, watching him carefully. She placed her knuckles on her hips. "I remember seeing you during y'alls first Sports Festival-"

Not exactly the kind of impression he wanted to make.

"Am I wrong?"

She was right.

"It's obvious my daughter means a lot to you," she told him softly, giving him a friendly smile as she squeezed his shoulder warmly.

Bakugo blew out a breath, staring at her in shock.

"I hope you like stir fry-"

Huh?

"We've got a ton of fresh vegetables. Trying to use as many as I can before I pickle the rest," she commented as if nothing had happened. "You kids should take some things back with you so you don't have to worry about grocery shopping. There's plenty."

He blinked. "Thank you." He couldn't decide if should be grateful or confused by the sudden change in conversation.

"Of course," she nodded with a happy sigh. "Do you like pickles?

"Woman-"

While Uraraka had inherited her mother's looks and stature, she must have inherited her father's strength. Her father's head nearly brushed the ceiling, and he easily towered over Bakugo. He was big, sturdy, and clearly strong from years of physical labor. His friendly face was a stark contrast to his intimidating silhouette

"-what have I told you about tryin' to give away our pickles?" he huffed, smiling fondly as his wife.

"What on earth are we gonna do with nearly three dozen jars of dang pickles, Reito?" she questioned, shaking her head.

"Eat 'em."

Apparently what they said about being country fed was true.

"Oh honey, this is Katsuki," Hanako grinned, tilting her head toward Bakugo still standing by the sink. "He was kind enough to help me in the kitchen while I sent Ochako to get ya from the back."

Reito's friendly expression faded into something sterner as he looked down at the boy standing by his sink. "Really?" he observed closely.

"Nice to meet you, Uraraka-san," Bakugo swallowed, keeping their eyes locked as he resisted the urge to look away. There were few people who intimidated him, but Uraraka's father had easily made the list.

"What did I tell you?" Hanako teased, "You can drop the Uraraka-san thing."

Reito's eyes narrowed almost as if to challenge him.

"Okay," Bakugo mumbled.

Reito coughed.

"Ma'am." If only his mother could see him now, she'd be delighted at how quickly he'd been humbled.

Hanako shook her head. "Where is our daughter?"

"Asked her to take some things to the cellar," Reito explained, moving next to Bakugo to get a glass of water. "I figured that would give me and Katsuki here a chance to get to know each other." He took a gulp of water then slammed the cup to the counter and turned to Bakugo.

Bakugo looked down at the cup. He held cups just like Uraraka, pinky out.

"Rei…" Hanako warned.

"Katsuki doesn't mind," Reito laughed heartily. While laughter bellowed from his chest, Bakugo hadn't missed the almost sinister gleam in his eyes.

So, that's where his girlfriend got it from. "I don't mind." The way Bakugo saw it, he didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

"Great," Reito grinned, "Let's go, son." He clasped a firm hand on the teen's shoulder and led him out of the kitchen. "I'll be sure to return your helper in one piece."

Bakugo was hoping for that.

They walked toward the living room area. Reito took a seat on the couch before gesturing to the seat next to him. "Have a seat. We don't bite in this house."

Bakugo had a feeling his girlfriend's family was more direct in their attack approach. While his family used words and fire, he was sure that her father would have no problems being more physical in his attack. He was pretty confident Reito could break him in two easily.

"So-" Reito leaned back in his chair, turning toward Bakugo a bit. "Tell me about yourself."

Let the inquisition begin.

"Close with your family?"

"Close enough." Bakugo wasn't sure how to answer that question. He and his mother's relationship was strange, to say the least. Love and affection were shown with yelling, shouting, and cursing. His father was the gentle middleman who accepted them both for what they were. They didn't spend a lot of time together and it wasn't the typical family dynamic, but he loved them.

"Close enough?"

"School doesn't leave me a lot of time to go home." It wasn't a lie.

"But your parents aren't far from school?"

Crap. "No."

"And you don't spend time with them?" Reito questioned sternly.

Clearly, family was something important to his girlfriend's father. Bakugo could hear his mother's voice ringing in the back of his head. She'd always told him how people would judge him based on how he treated his own family. "Not as often as I should." Unfortunately, a lot of people didn't understand his family dynamic.

Sometimes they were closer when they were apart.

"The old ha-" Calling his mother a hag certainly wouldn't help. "My mom's side of the family has a lot of strong personalities. We don't do well spending a lot of time together."

Reito watched him carefully, face unreadable as he took his words in. "So, you're not close with your family?"

Shit.

"There aren't any right or wrong answers-"

That sounded like a trap.

"I'm just trying to know," Reito shrugged, "Because my daughter has had nothing but good things to say about you which makes me happier than a termite in a woodshop."

Thank god.

"But I know what I seen on the tv. I have watched you-"

Bakugo braced himself to hear the long list of offenses he'd have to atone for.

"scream-"

"yell-"

"curse-"

"drive another kid's head in the dirt during a fight-"

To be fair, that had been his match against Monoma during his second year. Bakugo figured that with the amount of trash talking he'd done, he'd had it coming.

"Basically I've watched you do a long list of things that make it hard for me to believe that the boy on tv would be the same one I'd find folding dumplings in my kitchen and calling me 'Uraraka-san'," Reito told him honestly.

Bakugo couldn't help but agree with him. During his first year at U.A., they'd been warned time and time again about how they were public figures even though they were only students. Everything they said, did, posted, liked, commented on, etc… would follow them. He hadn't given much thought about his attitude until this past year.

Until now.

Now, he had to answer for it.

Bakugo had to take responsibility. "I like to think I'm a different person on the battlefield." He wasn't always, but he'd grown.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Reito's brows raised.

"I wasn't fuc-" Probably wasn't wise to use that word. "Always." Bakugo could admit that now. "I'm sure people still think I'm an asshole." He relaxed a little. It seemed like her parents' wanted a genuine glimpse at who he was.

Reito smiled, face softened as he placed his hand on his shoulder, "Ochako doesn't think that."

"Katsuki," Uraraka called, stepping into the living room. Her eyes went straight to her father's hand resting on her boyfriend's shoulder. "Papa…" her voice drawled slowly as she moved toward them.

"We'll be right there, tea leaf," Reito grinned at his daughter. "We're just talking."

Uraraka shook her head, "But-"

"Right, Katuski?" His grasp tightened on Bakugo's shoulder.

Bakugo nodded, "It's fine."

Uraraka's mouth opened to disagree, but Bakugo nodded. "Alright, I'll be in the kitchen," she told them as she slowly walked away.

"Like I said," Reito started as he watched his daughter disappear, "Ochako doesn't think that, and I-" His hand pushed a little harder against him.

Bakugo inhaled sharply, feeling his heart skip a beat.

"I don't know, but I trust my daughter to make the right decision because I trust we raised her to do so."

His heart raced. He wasn't sure why Reito's words were making him nervous. Try as he might, Bakugo couldn't seem to catch enough air.

"But," he paused for a moment, his voice dropping to a threatening tone, "if you hurt her, I will end you."

He wasn't sure why the world was fading around him. His mouth was dry and he could feel his heartbeat thudding throughout his body.

"And I know my daughter can take care of herself. I've watched her kick your narrow behind all over the tv, but," Reito chuckled darkly. "Please, please, hear my words when I say, I will kill you and bury you in my backyard if you hurt my child."

At this point, Bakugo wasn't sure if he was wheezing.

"It's not that I have anything against you, I don't. I like you, but that," Reito nodded, "that is my only child, and she deserves the world. At the very least, you'd better treat her with the respect she deserves."

"I-" He could feel his body going slack.

"Understand?"

"Ye-" The word was stuck in his chest.

"Excellent!" Reito smiled, happily slamming an open hand to his back.

Bakugo coughed, feeling air rush into his lungs. His chest heaved as sensation returned to his body.

"Good talk, son," Reito nodded, getting up from the couch and walking toward the kitchen.

Bakugo's head fell back against the couch as he panted. "The fuck…?" he whispered.

"Katsuki," Uraraka rushed back into the living room. "Oh my gosh," she whispered, taking a seat next to him. "Are you alright?" She placed a hand against his chest, using the other hand to take his pulse at his neck. "Papa, you didn't!"

"The boy is still breathin' ain't he!" Reito shouted.

Uraraka rolled her eyes. "Barely!"

"He ain't pass out like the green-haired one or the big kid!"

"I can't believe him," Uraraka sighed, running her fingers throw Bakugo's hair. "You're okay. Just keep breathing."

"What," Bakugo inhaled, swallowing, "-the fuck was that?" At this point, he didn't care if her parents heard him. He was allowed this one.

"His quirk," she huffed, "he can pull water from anything he touches-"

"What now?" His head had finally stopped spinning.

"He was pulling the water from your body."

Wow. "Holy shit." He was also allowed that one.

"I think he's impressed you didn't pass out," Uraraka smirked, trying to lighten the tone. She gently rubbed her knuckles against his forehead. "Deku passed out."

Bakugo smirked.

"So did Iida," she told him. "Todoroki only escaped because Papa only has two hands, but…"

He laughed.

"Sorry," she pouted, pursing her lips cutely. Her hand slid down to the side of his face as she looked at him nervously.

"It's not a big deal," he assured her. "That was pretty badass." He may have nearly died, but he had to admire her father's quirk.

Uraraka shook her head, "You're crazy."

He was. "I love you."

"Yeah, that's the dehydration talking," she teased, taking a little peek behind her before pressing a quick kiss to his nose. "I love you most."

"Yeah, no."

"Hey kids! If ya want dinner, you better get in here and help!"

Uraraka sighed, lips twisting into a crooked smile at the sound of her father's voice. "Let's go."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"See," Uraraka grinned, squeezing his knee as he drove, "wasn't so bad."

Bakugo huffed, keeping his eyes on the road as they made their way back to U.A. Things had been smooth sailing after his initial confrontation with her parents. They'd ate and chatted for most of the evening until he and Uraraka settled down for a nap before leaving. He'd only gotten a quick glimpse of her bedroom before her father set him up on the couch downstairs to sleep.

"You lived," she joked, looking out into the darkness at the empty road ahead of them.

"Barely," he grunted, trying to keep the smirk off his face.

She laughed, "Oh whatever. He wouldn't have killed you."

A small part of Bakugo's brain wasn't completely convinced. "Why didn't your father try to go to U.A. or something?" He hadn't expected her father to have such a powerful quirk. More surprising, he hadn't expected her father to have such control over it.

"Well," she shrugged humming a little as she took a second to count a few stars in their sight, "my pa wanted to be a hero, but ya know his pa needed help with the family business, my ma was pregnant with me-"

Wait. "Really?"

"Yep. I was born not even a year after they were done with high school, so…" she sighed, glancing at him for a moment. "I think that's why he really wanted me to go to U.A."

"That explains why he threatened to kill me and bury in your damn backyard," he mumbled. One of the many reasons at least.

"He was joking."

No.

"Kind of," she relented patting his leg. "They like you."

"If they didn't, I think I'd be dead," he snorted, tossing her an amused glance.

"Oh," she cried playfully, swatting at his leg, "Whatever."

Bakugo laughed.

"Trust me. Papa let you take a couple jars of the spicy pickles," she explained with a firm nod. "He doesn't even let his younger brother take those."

"I guess." He'd definitely felt more at ease during the meal.

"Good, cause I don't know if you heard my ma already asking if you'd be back for the holiday, but she's already anxious for us to visit again."

"We got a bit before we have to figure that shit out." The holidays would be there before they knew it, but Bakugo wasn't ready to think about the end of the year quite so soon. "We're gonna get back to school early." His eyes drifted to the GPS mounted between them.

"Good," she nodded, letting her fingers trace his inner thigh. Uraraka bit back a giggle of amusement. "I wanna spend some time with you before class."

His brows furrowed, cursing softly as his body started responding. "Are you fucking serious?" he hissed, trying but failing to sound affronted.

"You-" Her fingers pressed a little harder, letting him feel the scratch of her nails. "You don't want to?"

"I don't know how I feel about those idiots hearing us."

"Bold of you assume I can't be quiet."

He snorted, "Fucking bold of you to assume that I'm not taking that as a challenge." His fingers gripped the wheel as he focused on their destination. "I'm not in the fucking mood to deal with those idiots." More like he wasn't in the mood to risk being interrupted.

"So, what?" she wondered as she continued to let her fingers draw teasing patterns over his thigh. "We go back to your parents' house?"

"Fuck no." That was even worse. "Hotel?"

"For a couple hours?" she cackled loudly in a strange mix of amusement and horror.

"You fucking started this."

True. "I did."

To be Continued…