The agency common room didn’t look anything like a workplace today.

Banners in warm oranges and golds hung from the ceiling—Kirishima and Mina’s idea—and the long tables were covered in food, mocktails, gifts, and a ridiculous amount of dessert that Denki had insisted was “essential for morale.” Colorful decorations made the place feel more like someone’s cozy home than HQ.

Everyone was buzzing around, laughing, talking, and setting things up. They’d all come early to help before the actual guests arrived.

You sat on the couch with a hand over your belly, already showing, wearing the comfy dress Momo had insisted on buying you. You watched Kirishima and Mina argue about balloon placement while Jirou untangled gift ribbons in the corner and Uraraka finished arranging food with Deku.

“Hey—stop movin’ around so much.”

Bakugo’s voice came from behind the couch as he set down a tray of spicy appetizers he’d made himself, refusing to let anyone else cook after Denki nearly burned the agency kitchen last week. He placed a hand on your shoulder, thumb brushing your collarbone as he leaned down.

“You good?” he muttered low so only you could hear.

You answered with a smile, resting your hand over his. “We’re fine. You’re the one pacing like you’re about to fight a villain.”

He clicked his tongue. “Tch. I’m not… pacing.”

“Dude,” Kaminari called from across the room, grinning, “you’ve done like ten laps around the place.”

Bakugo shot him a look that should’ve incinerated him on the spot, but you gently tugged on his hand before he could bark back.

“Mhm. You’re nervous,” you teased quietly.

“I’m not nervous.” His jaw worked for a second. Then quieter, “…Just don’t want anything dumb happenin’ today.”

Kirishima wandered over with Mina, both of them wearing giant proud grins.

“Bro, the only thing happening today is you becoming a dad!” Kirishima said, clapping him on the back so hard you heard the impact.

“And us officially becoming aunt and uncle!” Mina added.

Behind them, Deku and Uraraka were tying bows onto the gift table. Uraraka glanced over at you with a soft smile.

“You look so happy,” she said. “I can’t believe you two are having a baby.”

Deku nodded shyly. “Kacchan’s gonna be a good dad. He’ll… uh… yell a lot, but in a supportive way.”

Bakugo scowled. “I’ll yell at you if you keep talkin’ like that, nerd.”

You laughed, leaning back against the couch as he rested his hand instinctively on top of your belly. His expression softened unconsciously as he felt movement against his palm—something only you noticed.

Jirou glanced up from tying decorations. “You think the baby’s gonna have your attitude, or hers?”

Denki snorted. “If it’s Bakugo’s attitude, we’re all doomed.”

More friends began arriving—present bags and congratulations filling the room. Aizawa even showed up briefly, quietly dropping off a gift and muttering something about “sleep training books” before disappearing like a shadow.

But despite the noise and celebration, Bakugo stuck close to you. One hand always touching you—your back, your shoulder, or your belly—as if grounding himself.

At one point, while everyone was laughing over Kirishima struggling to assemble a baby swing, you caught Bakugo staring at you from the doorway.

He drifted back over to you and crouched beside your chair, voices from the others fading into background hum.

“You need anything?” he asked.

You shook your head, smiling softly. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”

He glanced at your belly again, then at the room full of friends, then back to you. For a moment, he looked like he was trying really hard not to feel everything at once.

“Katsuki,” you murmured, brushing a hand through his hair, “you’re doing just fine.”

He scoffed—but didn’t pull away. His hand slid back over your stomach, thumb stroking gently.

“Yeah,” he muttered, cheeks faintly flushed, ’Cause you’re here.”

And surrounded by friends, noise, memories, and the future kicking softly beneath his palm—Bakugo Katsuki actually allowed himself a moment of real, unguarded peace.