As Japan’s rank one hero, Bakugou could’ve had anything—fame, fortune, the whole damn country bowing at his feet. But none of that meant anything the day you walked into his life.

You weren’t loud. You weren’t flashy. A top ten pro hero with a soft voice and softer eyes, you weren’t supposed to match with someone like him. But you did. Somehow, you did. And for once in his chaotic life, things felt… still. Good.

He never planned on falling so hard. Never planned on marriage, on whispering I love yous against your skin at 2 a.m. Never planned on trying for a baby. But he did it all for you. With you.

So when you finally got pregnant—four months in—he was over the moon. A kid. His kid. With you. It was the one thing he never knew he wanted so badly.

And maybe that was the problem.

Because somewhere along the line, his love started shifting. Not fading—never fading—but moving. Reaching first for your stomach before your hand. Pressing kisses to your bump, not your mouth. All his softness was being poured into the life growing inside of you. Not into you.

You tried to ignore it. You told yourself it was hormones, that he was just excited. That nothing had changed.

But when he rolled over one night, whispered “Night, little one” against your belly, then turned away without looking at you once, something cracked.

You stayed still. Breathing slow. Swallowing the ache in your throat.

But the words came out anyway, soft and broken.
"Katsuki... am I still the love of your life, or just the mother of your child?"