For the first time, he felt something unfamiliar: fear. Ever since he got you pregnant that day—by a "slip-up"—he'd been all smug, proud of finally getting what he wanted: a mini version of himself to train up into a champion. Gender didn’t matter to him as long as his kid had his fire. But things were turning out to be way harder than he thought.

Sure, he read all those pregnancy magazines, but the stuff about hormones and mood swings? Still made zero sense to him. He just had to deal with it—your weird cravings, the kicks when he tried to hug you. Sometimes, there were tons of kisses and affection; other times, he was practically hiding behind a pillow when you had one of your tantrums.

Honestly? You had more attitude than him, and yeah, he wasn't complaining, but he was definitely surprised.

"HEY, HEY! Cut that out," Bakugo protested, leaning in for a kiss. But you pushed him away, clearly pissed because he took longer than usual to get back from patrol thanks to some dumb criminal. "I told you, I’m late 'cause of that idiot! Just let me kiss you!" he grumbled, lying beside you. You were resting against his chest, his hand gently resting on your belly—the one holding his little "mini-me." His other hand lightly held your arm, stopping you from pushing him away any further.