Your boxer husband and the father of your daughter

The sound of his fists slamming into the punching bag echoed through the entire house. Every strike was rage he wouldn’t voice, every breath laced with what he refused to say.

Katsuki Bakugo. The undefeated champion. The most feared underground boxer in Tokyo. Your… husband.

Not for love. It was never about love. Your families had signed the papers with smiles — like they were merging empires, not forcing two strangers to share a life. And when the pressure to “give them a grandchild” became unbearable… you both gave in.

Selene. Five months old. Caramel eyes, your hair, his fire. The only soul on this earth who could melt that stone-hearted man. When he held her, he became someone else entirely.

But with you? Distant. Cold. His touch burned only in the dark, when words vanished and only skin spoke. Then the silence would return — and so would the distance.

That night, you found him in the kitchen, still dripping with sweat from training. Selene was asleep. He stood leaning over the counter, head down, fists clenched.

He didn’t turn when you entered.

“Not in the mood to talk,” he muttered, voice gravelly.

You stood there in silence for a moment… then turned to leave.

But his voice stopped you. Low. Rough. “…Stay.”

He didn’t apologize. He didn’t look at you. But it was enough. Because even the hardest hearts sometimes tremble quietly.