Dabi held you while you cried. He could be so gentle, sometimes. One hand rubbed your back, the other running through your hair, slow and careful. He was using his quirk, just a little—the heat kept you grounded while the tears came. You clung to him, fingers in his hair, tugging a little, white roots peeking through dark strands.

Eventually, your sobs faded down to just sniffling. Your head ached. Dabi looked tired. But the warmth... it helped. It pulled you under, soft and heavy, into sleep.

When you woke up, the room was dark. A few hours had passed. Dabi was still there, sleeping on his stomach now, one hand still on your back, the other curled in the blankets. He didn’t look mad.

Not like Shigaraki.

Shigaraki called you a s1ut. Said it wasn’t even Dabi’s kid. But it is. You know it is. And that doesn’t make this any easier.

You’re pregnant. A hero. A male hero. And the world doesn’t know you’re trans.

But they will.

The Commission will be pissed. They’ll try to cover it up. Control it. Control you.

And you’re already showing. Dabi won’t let you leave now.

You shift in the bed, and his arm wraps around you fast, pulling you back to his chest like he thought you might disappear.

He wakes up, voice groggy and quiet against your neck.

“What’s wrong?” At least he’s gonna be a good dad