Work Text:
The flickering neon sign of the "Midnight Diner" they usually frequent after a long shift cast an eerie glow on the rain-slicked streets of Musutafu. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of greasy donuts and the murmur of late-night conversations. Kirishima, his crimson hair damp and plastered to his forehead, kicked off his rain-soaked jacket and slid into a booth across from his husband.
Bakugou, lazily drinking black coffee, upon seeing his alpha, his usual scowl softened by a tired smile, "Long day?" Kirishima asked, his voice gruff with concern.
Katsuki grunted, "Typical. Some punk trying to play tough, got himself locked up faster than he could say 'unhand me, officer'." He paused, then added, "Though, there was that weird case. Some guy running around in a homemade robot suit, claiming he was a superhero."
Kirishima chuckled, "Sounds like something straight out of the movies."
"Yeah, well, it wasn't exactly funny at the time," Bakugou grumbled, taking a sip of his stale coffee. "Still, could've been worse. Could've been another trafficking situation like last month. That was brutal.”
The reminder of the trafficking ring that was busted not a month ago brought a somber note to their conversation. It was a huge operation, and Bakugou was fortunate to be a part of it, but having to rescue hundreds of omegas from an underground trafficking network was not an easy task, especially for him. Being an omega himself, it hit him hard and personal how omegas were exploited and abused in society.
As an omega in the UA Police Department, he’d faced his fair share of prejudice, whispers behind his back, and the constant scrutiny that came with being one of the few omegas in active duty.
"You know," Kirishima began, his voice gentle, "You’re one of the toughest officers I know."
Katsuki scoffed, "Don't patronize me, Shittyhair."
"I'm not," Kirishima insisted, reaching across the table to take Katsuki's hand. "You've proven yourself time and time again. You're strong, skilled, and you don't let anyone push you around."
Katsuki looked at their intertwined hands, a rare softness in his eyes. He knew Kirishima was right. He'd worked harder than anyone else to earn his place in the department. He'd faced down villains twice his size, defused bombs, and saved countless lives. He wouldn't let his secondary gender define him, not when he had a reputation to uphold, a husband to make proud.
"Yeah, well," Katsuki muttered, a small smile finally breaking through his usual gruff exterior, "Someone’s gotta keep this city safe."
Kirishima grinned, squeezing his hand. "That's my hero."
As they sat there, the rain continuing to lash against the windows, a comfortable silence settled between them. It was a quiet reminder that despite the dangers and the prejudices, they had each other. They had their love, their partnership, their shared life.
They had met eight years ago, at the UA Police Academy, an unlikely pair: the fiery, explosive omega and the easygoing, crimson-haired alpha. Their initial interactions were a whirlwind of sparks, both literal and metaphorical. Bakugou, initially wary of Kirishima's cheerful demeanor, found himself drawn to the alpha's unwavering kindness and sweet smiles. Kirishima, in turn, was captivated by Bakugou's fiery spirit and the unexpected softness he found underneath his rough persona.
Their relationship blossomed amidst late-night study sessions, shared meals, and an unspoken understanding that transcended their differences. Three years after their first hesitant date, they stood before a small gathering of friends and family, their vows a testament to the love that had bloomed between them.
Now, years later, their love had deepened, weathering the storms of their demanding careers. They were a team, a support system, a family. Their small apartment, once filled with the echoes of their training exercises, now echoed with the soft sounds of their laughter and the occasional playful banter.
Life outside of the police station was a different rhythm. Mornings often involved the aroma of coffee brewing and the gentle sounds of Bakugou humming along to an old rock song as he prepared breakfast. Kirishima would usually find him in the kitchen, his usually stern face softened as he carefully cracked eggs into a sizzling pan.
"Morning, sleepyhead," Bakugou would greet him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Want some eggs?"
"Always," Kirishima would reply, leaning in for a kiss. "You know I love how you make my eggs."
Evenings were spent on the couch, curled up together, Bakugou usually sprawled across Kirishima's lap, a book in his hands, while Kirishima mindlessly scrolled through his phone. Sometimes, they would watch old action movies, Bakugou critiquing every fight scene, while Kirishima laughed at his exaggerated commentary.
There has been a quiet desire brewing between them, it started to come alive when Bakugou’s pre-heats revolved around Bakugou whining and complaining about a nest without a pup. The desire has become more and more intense ever since one of their neighbors had a baby, and Bakugou would be so restless whenever he heard the pup cry.
He wanted a baby.
Their attempts to conceive had been a mix of excitement and apprehension. Bakugou, with his fiery temper, had found the waiting game agonizing. Why isn't it happening already?! he would explode, pacing around their apartment like a caged animal.
Kirishima, ever the optimist, would try to remain patient, offering comfort and reassurance during Bakugou's moments of frustration. "Hey, it'll happen when it happens, baby. We just have to be patient." He would then pull Bakugou into a tight embrace, his scent a calming balm against his husband's anxiety.
Then, during Bakugou's last heat, a miracle happened. The intensity of that night, the way Kirishima had held him close, his scent, a soothing presence against the raging storm within him, had created a spark of life within him. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, a testament to their love and their resilience.
Four months pregnant
The rain outside continued its steady rhythm against the windows, but inside, the apartment felt warmer—cozier even, despite the tension hanging in the air between them. Bakugou had come home from another exhausting day at the station, and every part of him felt like it was at the breaking point. He was tired of the way everyone treated him, especially Kirishima.
Kirishima had always been protective, and now that Bakugou was pregnant, it felt like that instinct had kicked into overdrive. As an alpha, his protectiveness was part of him—his need to keep his mate safe, to care for him, had always been there. But Bakugou was tired. Tired of the overly gentle touches, the soft words, the careful way Kirishima spoke to him as though he were about to break.
Kirishima wasn’t trying to be condescending; he was trying to help. But it was driving Bakugou mad. The constant reminders to take it easy, the insistence that he sit down instead of pushing himself, the way Kirishima would hover over him—Bakugou felt like a child sometimes, not the strong, capable omega he was.
“Damn it, Ei.” Bakugou muttered, kicking his boots off as he stepped into their small kitchen. “I’m fine. I don’t need you acting like I’m made of glass.”
Kirishima, who had been preparing dinner, glanced up, his bright red eyes soft with concern. “I’m just making sure you’re okay. You’ve been working long hours, and—”
“I’m fine.” Bakugou interrupted, his voice sharp. He turned away, pacing a few steps to release the tension in his shoulders, but it wasn’t enough. The weight of everything felt like it was bearing down on him. He wasn’t used to needing help, and the way Kirishima kept treating him as though his body was fragile—it was frustrating, overwhelming, and, if he was honest with himself, a little embarrassing.
His stomach was getting bigger by the day now, the pregnancy undeniably visible. He could feel it stretching, a constant reminder that his body was changing in ways he never imagined. But the worst part wasn’t just the physical changes—it was the way people treated him differently. The way everyone, Kirishima included, seemed to see him as someone who needed to be babied. It made his chest tighten in discomfort, a feeling he couldn’t shake.
Kirishima sighed softly, setting down the knife he’d been holding. “You’re not just fine, Bakugou. You’re carrying our baby.” His voice softened, but there was a subtle worry in his eyes too. “I can’t just... pretend like everything’s normal when you’re clearly going through so much. I’m not trying to make you feel weak. I just—” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just want you to be okay.”
Bakugou’s jaw clenched, but he could feel the sincerity in Kirishima’s words. He wasn’t weak. He didn’t need to be coddled. But the truth was, he wasn’t used to his body changing like this. To the way his stomach had gotten rounder, the way his clothes fit differently, how his energy levels plummet without warning, and how, at the end of the day, he’d feel so exhausted. And the fact that Kirishima kept hovering over him, checking if he’d eaten enough, if he needed rest—it grated on his nerves, but deep down, he knew it came from a place of love.
Kirishima took a step closer, his large hand gently brushing against Bakugou’s back. “I know what you must be thinking, that you’re not weak, and you’re not. You’re the strongest person I know, but you’ve gotta stop pushing yourself so hard. You’re not just carrying a baby, you’re carrying our baby. That’s a big deal. And I know that my instinct as an alpha is to protect you, to keep you safe, but I just—I don’t want anything happening to you or the baby.”
Bakugou looked over at him, his brows furrowing. “I’m not gonna fall apart, damn it.” His voice was a little softer now, though, as the edge of his frustration started to fade. He didn’t want to admit it, but the truth was, his body felt like it was betraying him. The cravings, the weight gain, the constant tiredness—it was all so overwhelming. He wanted to be the strong one. He wanted to be able to keep up. But with each passing day, it felt like his body was more out of his control.
Kirishima reached out, pulling Bakugou into a gentle hug, surrounding them in his scent to ease Bakugou’s mind, “You don’t have to do everything yourself. And it doesn’t mean I’m treating you like you’re weak. I just... I just want to make sure you’re taken care of.” He placed a kiss against Bakugou’s hair, his voice lowering with tenderness. “I want to be there for you, for us.”
Bakugou stood still for a moment, his body tense, but there was something soothing about Kirishima’s warmth. Despite the anger, despite the frustration that still churned in his gut, the way Kirishima’s scent wrapped around him—it grounded him. He wasn’t used to being the one who needed care. But maybe, just maybe, it was okay for him to let Kirishima care for him for once.
He sighed, his shoulders dropping as he let the tension leave his body. “I get it,” he muttered, his voice rough but softer now. “I know you’re just trying to help, but... I don’t want to feel like some fucking liability.”
“You’re not,” Kirishima whispered. “But you are carrying our child, and I’ll be damned if I don’t make sure you’re taken care of while you’re doing it.”
Bakugou let out a low chuckle, his hand resting against Kirishima’s chest. “Damn overprotective alpha.”
Kirishima grinned, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I can’t help it. You’re my mate, and I’m gonna make sure you’re okay, even if you don’t want me to.”
For a moment, Bakugou just shook his head, his lips curling into a reluctant smile. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Shittyhair.”
“I know,” Kirishima teased, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. “But you know you love me.”
Bakugou grumbled, his hand resting on his stomach for a brief moment, his expression softening. “I do. I just... I just don’t want to feel like I’m losing myself in this.”
“You’re not losing yourself,” Kirishima said quietly, his voice full of conviction. “You’re just adding another part of you. A part of us. And I’m with you every step of the way, okay?”
Bakugou’s eyes softened, the weight of his emotions slowly lifting as he allowed himself to lean into his husband’s embrace. The pregnancy had been more challenging than he had ever expected, but with Kirishima by his side, with his overprotectiveness, his love, and his unwavering support, Bakugou knew they could face anything—together.
Eight months pregnant
Bakugou gritted his teeth as he shifted in the uncomfortable chair behind his desk, the weight of his pregnancy weighing down on him like a goddamn anchor. At eight months, he was huge. His belly was swollen, and his movements had become slow and burdensome. Every time he tried to move or get comfortable, a sharp ache in his back reminded him just how much harder everything had become.
He had argued with Kirishima for days. Kirishima had begged him to take a break, to stop going on patrols. He’d asked him to stay off the streets, away from danger, for just a little while. But Bakugou couldn’t. He wasn’t some weak, helpless omega who needed to be coddled. He was a police officer. He was strong.
After a heated argument, Kirishima had finally relented, but only with one condition: no patrols. No running around chasing criminals, getting into dangerous situations. Only desk work. Paperwork. Sitting. That’s what Kirishima insisted on. And Bakugou had agreed—begrudgingly—but only because he had to. He wasn’t happy about it, but he wasn’t about to give up on working entirely.
Sitting behind the desk, Bakugou tried to focus, but the constant pain in his back made it hard to concentrate. He hated it. He hated sitting still, hated being so damn slow. He wanted to be out there. He wanted to fight. He wanted to be doing something that mattered. Instead, he was stuck here, filling out forms and staring at piles of paperwork.
And then, the radio crackled to life. A call for backup on an armed robbery. Close by.
Bakugou’s blood ran cold. He hesitated momentarily before pushing himself up from his desk, his hand braced against the edge to steady himself, Bakugou could feel the strain on his body. His swollen belly pulled at him, the weight making his movement slower than usual. But that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to that scene.
When he got to the scene, it was chaos, cops everywhere, the air thick with the sound of shouting and radio chatter. Bakugou’s sharp eyes took in the mess, scanning the situation, assessing. Too many officers. Too many moving parts. Something felt wrong.
He tried to shake the nagging feeling that clawed at his mind. Kirishima. He could hear his voice in his head, the worry and frustration that had been evident every time they talked about Bakugou going out. Kirishima would be furious if he knew Bakugou was here, in the middle of this mess. But he ignored the nagging thoughts.
He pushed forward, stepping deeper into the fray, his heart pounding with adrenaline. But it didn’t take long for him to realize that maybe he’d pushed it too far. There were too many people. Too many variables. The situation was escalating.
Then, it all happened in a blur. The gunfire rang out, shattering the air, and Bakugou’s heart jumped into his throat. He dropped to the ground instinctively, searching for cover. His mind raced. His body ached. His breath was heavy, and the weight of his pregnancy made every movement feel sluggish.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
But it was too late. Shots rang out again, and Bakugou’s thoughts spiraled. His hand instinctively went to his belly, a sharp pain shooting through his lower abdomen. His breath hitched as a wave of panic washed over him.
No. Not now. Not like this.
His heart thundered in his chest as he crawled behind a nearby car, trying to shield himself from the chaos around him. The pain in his belly was unbearable, the sharp twinges making his vision blur.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He couldn’t even hear himself think over the gunfire. The thought of Kirishima and their unborn baby sent a shiver of fear down his spine. What if he’d made a huge mistake? What if he’d hurt the baby by being so damn stubborn?
The pain hit him suddenly, sharp and searing, as though the world itself was twisting his insides. Bakugou gasped, his hand gripping his swollen belly instinctively. He staggered back against a wall, trying to steady himself, but the ache only grew stronger, radiating through his lower back and across his abdomen. His breath hitched in panic as he pressed a hand to his stomach, eyes wide. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t supposed to happen yet.
His mind raced, he had been so stubborn, pushing himself like he always did, never stopping, never listening. He had to be there. He had to help.
But now, as the pain took over, all he could think about was her—their baby. Was she okay? Was he doing this to her? Was he being selfish, pushing his body to the limit when it was already so clear that he needed to slow down?
"Fuck!" Bakugou cursed under his breath, his body trembling as another contraction shot through him. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. He needed to get to a hospital. Now.
Through gritted teeth, he called into his radio, barely able to get the words out between breaths. “This is Officer Bakugou. I need—I need medical backup... now.”
The radio crackled with responses he barely understood. He couldn’t focus. His head spun, the fear gnawing at him like a beast, urging him to do something, anything, to make this stop. But he couldn’t. Not with the baby inside him, not with everything riding on this moment.
“I... I can’t do this,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, before a thought hit him with terrifying clarity. Kirishima. Eijiro. His alpha. His husband.
But then, more gunshots rang out, breaking through the tension like a crack of thunder. Bakugou’s instincts kicked in, but the pain doubled, and his knees buckled. His body screamed at him to stop, to rest, but there was no time. He was caught in the middle of it all.
Get out. Get out now.
He turned, ignoring the desperate calls of his fellow officers, and made his way back through the chaos, heart pounding in his chest. The pain was unbearable now. His back was a mess of tight, burning knots, his belly heavy and swollen. Every step sent another shockwave through him, but he gritted his teeth and pushed on.
He had to get to safety. He had to protect her.
But the shooting continued, the chaos spinning out of control. Bakugou hid behind a car, his body trembling, his breath ragged. The pain wasn’t going away. In fact, it was getting worse. He tried to focus, tried to push through it, but all he could think about was her—the tiny life growing inside him. What if he had pushed too hard? What if he had already hurt her?
“Eijiro...” he gasped, the words slipping from his mouth in desperation. He felt dizzy, his vision fading in and out. “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...” His body trembled uncontrollably now, the pain so overwhelming that he could barely think straight.
His legs felt like lead as he staggered toward the nearest officer, his voice shaking as he called out to them, “I need—get me to the hospital, now.”
The officer, recognizing the urgency in his voice, grabbed him under the arm, helping him into the back of a squad car. Bakugou barely registered the motion, his thoughts clouded with panic. His world was shrinking, focusing solely on the baby.
Please, please be okay…
.
.
.
.
By the time they reached the hospital, Bakugou was nearly out of his mind with pain. The sharpness had escalated to an unbearable level, and his body trembled with each new wave. His stomach was tight, and the pain was radiating down his back. His thoughts were fractured, his world spinning, but there was one thing on his mind.
He needed Kirishima. He needed him now.
He was pushed into a room, the nurses and doctors immediately starting their work. His body felt foreign, unresponsive as they checked him over. The urgency in the room matched his own panic.
The nurse came over to him, speaking in gentle but firm tones. “We’re going to need you to stay calm. We’re going to do everything we can, but right now, we need to prepare you for an emergency c-section.”
The words barely made sense to him. C-section? He didn’t care. He only cared about his baby. About Kirishima.
“Where’s Eijiro?” Bakugou’s voice cracked, raw and desperate. “I need him... he needs to be here... please.”
Before anyone could answer, the door flew open, and there he was—Kirishima, face pale, eyes wide with shock. His hair was damp, his uniform still on, and his face was full of fear, but when their eyes met, Bakugou’s heart leapt.
“I’m here, babe. I’m right here,” Kirishima breathed, rushing to his side and grabbing his hand. His voice was shaky but strong. “I’m not going anywhere. You hear me? I’m with you.”
Bakugou squeezed his hand, his eyes blurring with tears. The pain had never been this intense, but just hearing Kirishima’s voice calmed him. The alpha’s scent going haywire to calm his omega in distress. His body screamed for relief, but with Kirishima beside him, it felt like everything would be okay.
“I’m sorry,” Bakugou whispered, his voice breaking as he looked up at his husband. “I shouldn’t have pushed so hard. I should’ve listened to you. I’m scared, Ei. I don’t know if I can—”
Kirishima leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You’ve got this, baby. You’re stronger than you know.”
Tears filled Bakugou’s eyes as he nodded, breathing through the pain. He felt the steady presence of his alpha beside him, felt his love surrounding him. And in that moment, Bakugou knew he wasn’t alone. Not now, not ever.
The next thing Bakugou knew, he was waking up in a recovery room. The pain had subsided, and his body felt heavy like lead, as though it had been pulled in every direction at once. But when his eyes fluttered open, he saw Kirishima sitting by his side, his hand gripping his tightly.
“You’re awake,” Kirishima said softly, his voice full of emotion. “Thank God.”
Bakugou blinked a few times, his mind still foggy, but when he looked at Kirishima, the fear in his husband’s eyes made his heart ache. “What happened?” he rasped.
“They had to do a c-section. You weren’t dilated enough for a natural birth, but the baby... she’s okay, Katsuki.” Kirishima’s voice broke, his hand squeezing Bakugou’s. “Our daughter is okay.”
Bakugou felt a rush of relief, his heart swelling as tears filled his eyes. “She’s okay?” he whispered, the question slipping from his lips like a prayer.
“She’s perfect,” Kirishima whispered back, voice trembling. “She’s perfect, and we’re going to be okay. I promise.”
Before Bakugou could speak, the door opened, and a nurse entered, carefully cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. She placed their daughter in Kirishima’s arms, and the sight of her—small and beautiful, with a tuft of ashy blonde hair—made Bakugou’s heart swell.
Kirishima’s eyes glistened with tears as he looked down at their daughter, holding her with such tenderness. “She’s ours,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Bakugou reached out weakly, and with a gentle motion, Kirishima placed their daughter into his arms. The moment she was settled against him, Bakugou’s chest tightened, and he couldn’t help the flood of tears that poured down his face.
“She’s so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice breaking with the weight of it all. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I almost ruined this. I won’t let you down, I swear.”
Kirishima smiled through his own tears, brushing Bakugou’s damp cheek with his thumb. “You never have, and you never will.”
“I promise,” Bakugou whispered into the wispy hair of their daughter, his voice shaking with emotion. “I’ll take care of you. For the rest of your life. Always.”