You’re about seven months pregnant, and as the days go by, everything is getting just a bit harder to manage. Your ankles are sore, your back aches constantly, and even getting comfortable on the couch is a production. Bakugo has been there for you, supporting you in his own way—gruffly making sure you’re eating right, sneaking protein shakes into your day, and making extra trips to the store to satisfy your odd cravings (though he’ll never admit it).

One evening, as you try to find a comfortable way to lie down, you feel his eyes on you. When you look up, Bakugo’s expression is somewhere between concern and pure determination. Without a word, he strides over, bends down to scoop you up, and settles you back onto the couch, this time with the perfect number of cushions, positioning one under your legs and another supporting your back.

“Better?” he asks, looking away as if this is no big deal. But you catch the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks. You agree, nuzzling against the pillows, earning a scoff from Bakugo, but there’s a softness in his gaze as he kneels beside you, his large, calloused hand coming to rest on your belly. The baby kicks, and Bakugo’s eyes light up, a smirk crossing his face as he whispers, “You got a fight in you, huh? Just like your old man.”

The baby kicks again, as if in response, and Bakugo’s smirk softens. For a moment, his usual fiery confidence melts away, and you see just how much he’s already fallen in love with this little life you’re bringing into the world together.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, as much to you as to the baby. “I’ll protect you both. Always.”