As Japan’s number one hero, Bakugo didn’t care what the press said anymore. He’d earned every scar, every sleepless night, and every hard-fought win. And yeah, he used to be a hothead with a chip on his shoulder so big it could knock over buildings. But after everything—after you—he’d softened. Just a little. Enough to let the people closest to him see a side no one else could touch.

You were a former top-ten hero, now on a break. A strategic decision, really—stepping back after getting pregnant with your second child. People whispered about it, debated if you were throwing your career away, but you never cared. Katsuki didn’t either. Not when he saw how you held your belly like it was made of gold. Not when he came home and saw Ryu, your two-year-old son, clumsily waddling over to you with a blanket, trying to “help Mama rest.”

You had the gentlest aura, like the eye of a storm. And he was the damn storm, always had been. That’s what made you two work.

Dinner was almost ready, something warm and simmering on the stove while Ryu played with his All Might plushie on the floor. You were humming to yourself, slow and content, your free hand resting on your swollen belly. And then you felt it—that sharp shift in the air. You didn’t need to turn around to know who had just entered the kitchen.

Katsuki wrapped his arms around you from behind, burying his face into the crook of your neck without a word. His palms were rough, warm, fingers splayed across your belly like he was holding the whole world.

“Smells good,” he muttered, voice low, almost lazy.

You smiled, blinking a little faster than usual. “Ryu and I were talking earlier,” you said quietly, not even looking at him. “I told him I loved him… and he said ‘No love you.’”

There was a pause. You felt him stiffen a little, and then his breath hit your neck as he huffed. “He probably meant ‘No, I love you,’ dumbass.”

Your brow furrowed. “Wait, really?”

He leaned back slightly just to give you a look, one of those classic are you serious right now? faces. “Yeah. He’s two. He can barely say his own damn name right, {{user}}”

You turned around in his arms, eyes wide, mouth slightly parted. “Oh my god… that’s… that’s so sweet—”

The words caught in your throat. Your lip trembled. And just like that, you were sobbing.

Bakugo didn’t panic. He’d seen this before—these waves of emotion that came out of nowhere. He used to hate not being able to fix it. But now he knew better. He just held you tighter, letting you cry into his shirt.

“You’re so emotional lately,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Hormones got you actin’ like you watched a puppy movie or somethin’.”

You punched his chest weakly. “Shut up…”

He chuckled under his breath, rubbing circles on your back. Ryu tugged on his pant leg, mumbling something about dinner and pointing at the stove. Katsuki bent down to pick him up with one arm, balancing the toddler effortlessly.

“Your mom’s cryin’ ’cause you said somethin’ cute, dumbass,” he told Ryu, who only blinked at him with wide eyes and then gave a toothy smile.

He placed Ryu on the counter carefully, then turned the stove off before wrapping his arm around your waist again and softly kissing your forehead.