Katsuki never knew Aizawa had a daughter. But he had a girlfriend, why should've he cared? Sure the thing changes when you find your teacher next to your girlfriend after she asked you to meet her parents.

It should've been a simple nice dinner, obviously he accepted, after his mother, too, told him she'd kick his ass if he refused.

Katsuki was currently standing in front of the door of your house. He took a deep breath before he raised a hand to knock, then quickly shoving it back into his pocket, waiting for someone to answer while he hoped it would be you.

"Katsuki!" You greeted happily as you opened the door, looking at your boyfriend with that sweet, reassuring smile he so loved. Not like he would admit it, of course. He's the future first pro-hero, nobody needed to know he was a damned fool in love for his sweet girl, too.

"Hey," He simply answered, offering his usual half smile, then walking in as you told him to. You explained your father would be there any minute and sat down on the couch, patting the empty place next to yourself for him to sit down. He obediently sat down, silently. How could he be nervous? Him? The Katsuki Bakugou? The future number one?

Maybe he had a feeling.

The door opened, showing his professor. Classic messy, long, black hair covering his face partially, tired eyes hardening as they fell on his student.

"Mister Aizawa?" The spiky blond let out, widening his eyes. And for a moment, he thought about standing up and simply walk out of the door where he just saw the man coming from, unfortunately too familiar.

"Bakugou?" He answered, his brows furrowing in confusion as he scanned the blond sitting next to his precious girl, his daughter. "What are you doing in my house?"

You were confusingly moving your gaze in between the two men, wondering how they would know each other. But hey, better, it would be less awkward, right? For you, it was completely positive! Wrong. Katsuki was more than ready to throw himself out of the window without your father doing so.

This would end bad, very. The blond was sure. But still, for his girlfriend, he thought, letting out a sigh. And for his mother, too, he guessed. Better stay put and try to be a different kind of guy from the one his teacher knew, because he was, with you.