Explosive Love: Part 4 – Mina’s Turn (And She’s Ready For War)

"Static Hearts"

The sun had just started to set, casting a golden glow over the U.A. training grounds. You sat on the bleachers, nursing a bottle of water after a long training session. Denki Kaminari was pacing nervously nearby, chewing on his lower lip.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye. He kept glancing your way, then turning back around and muttering something to himself.

“Denki,” you called. “Are you okay? You look like you're about to short-circuit.”

He jumped—literally—and gave you a sheepish grin. “Haha, yeah! Totally fine. Just, uh… processing. Y’know. Brain stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you process before doing something dumb?”

“Ouch,” he said, mock-pouting. “That was rude. Accurate, but rude.”

You laughed, and he rubbed the back of his neck, the blush rising to his cheeks like a voltage spike. “Okay, uh… can I tell you something? Like… serious something?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, of course.”

He took a deep breath and stepped in front of you, eyes unusually steady despite the sparks dancing along his fingertips.

“I know I joke around a lot. And I know I’m not exactly the smoothest guy in the class—”

“You once flirted with a vending machine,” you reminded him.

“That machine ate my money, it was a declaration of war,” he said, flustered, but quickly shook his head. “Anyway. The point is… I like you. A lot. Like, a lot a lot.”

You blinked, stunned, as he kept going, words tumbling out in a rush.

“And I’m not saying I expect you to feel the same, but I just—every time you smile, I feel like I could overload. In a good way! Not in the ‘eyes-go-blank-I’m-a-human-lightning-rod’ kind of way. I just… had to say it.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then you smiled.

“You’re such a dork.”

He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Oh nooo, that’s it. I’m fried. I blew it.”

You reached out and tugged his sleeve gently. “Denki.”

He peeked at you through his fingers.

“I like you too.”

His eyes widened. “Wait—really? Like, seriously? No short-circuiting joke?”

“No joke,” you said, standing up to face him. “I think you’re funny. And brave. And sweet. And yeah… a little dumb sometimes.”

He grinned, the electricity in his hair sparking wildly now. “That’s fair.”

Then, suddenly unsure, he held out his hand. “So, uh… can I take you on a real date? No vending machines involved.”

You laced your fingers through his. “You’d better.”

---

hii. hope everything is well with you :)

if you’re not too busy can I request a shigaraki x online gamer friend reader. where he becomes friends with a random girl he met while playing league or something (modern au).

maybe even a meet up or something. tyyy!!

"Lagging Hearts"

Shigaraki Tomura wasn’t supposed to care about anyone online. He liked the distance. The screen, the anonymity, the safety of being just a name on a friend list. But then he queued up for a late-night ranked match in League of Legends, and everything started glitching—emotionally speaking.

He met you by chance. Your username—“Pix3lGrrl”—was the kind of cringe he'd usually block. But you locked in midlane fast, started typing callouts in team chat like a drill sergeant, and your sarcasm matched his beat for beat.

“Garen support? Wow. Peak performance,” you typed.

He smirked. Okay, maybe she’s not awful.

One game became three. Then ten. Then nightly Discord calls. You tilted like a pro, cursed like a sailor, and still somehow made him laugh when his fingers were twitching to decay the world.

“You ever stop touching your face when you’re mad?” you teased during a losing streak.

He choked on his soda. “How the hell do you know that?”

“You always stop talking right before you screw up a teamfight. It’s, like, your rage silence.”

He didn’t reply right away. He was too busy… smiling?

—

Weeks passed. He didn’t tell you who he was—what he was. You didn’t ask. It was kind of perfect. The late-night games, the trash talk, your sleepy voice when it got too late and the ranked queue became ARAMs “just for fun.” He found himself waiting for the little Discord chime that said you were online like it was a drug.

One night, after a particularly nasty loss streak, you groaned, “I need a break. Let’s just talk.”

And he did. For hours.

You made him laugh so hard his screen shook. You called him “crusty king” and he didn’t even hate it. You told him about your cat, your weird neighbor, the way your keyboard was missing the F key but you were too lazy to fix it.

He thought about telling you. About his hands. His past. His real name.

Instead, he just asked, “Wanna queue again tomorrow?”

You replied instantly. “Always.”

—

He didn't know what this was—just a gamer friend or something dangerously close to real—but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like disconnecting.

---

It was your idea to meet.

“Well, technically,” you said, “I’m being bribed with bubble tea. But yeah. Let’s meet.”

Shigaraki stared at the message for a full minute. His thumb hovered over the reply button. He’d never seen your face, and you’d never seen his. It had been months now—countless games, DMs, weird late-night rants about anime betrayals and which champions needed nerfs.

He wasn’t ready.

But he said yes anyway.

—

You picked a little gaming café downtown. Neon lights. LED keyboards. The smell of instant noodles and too many Monster cans. You wore a hoodie, same as him, and your hair was a little messier than your Discord icon implied—but it was you. He knew it immediately.

You were sitting with a boba and a Switch, tapping your foot to some lo-fi remix. You looked up and smiled.

“Crusty King?” you teased.

He almost turned around and left.

Instead, he gave a dry little laugh and slid into the seat across from you. “Pix3lGrrl. Didn’t expect you to look so… normal.”

You arched a brow. “Thanks? Didn’t expect you to look like a villain from a dystopian anime.”

He froze.

Your smile faltered for half a second, and then you recovered. “Kidding. I mean—you’ve got the vibe. Grumpy, gray hair, twitchy fingers. Kind of hot, though.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Nothing.”

You both sipped your drinks. Played a couple rounds of Smash on the café’s Switch dock. Laughed a lot. It felt almost like home. Like a weird dream.

But then you leaned in, really looked at him, and asked, “Hey… what do you do, anyway? You’ve never said.”

His hand twitched—just once. He quickly put it in his hoodie pocket. His mouth went dry.

“I… break things.”

You laughed. “Okay, edgy. What does that mean?”

He paused. Then whispered, “My name’s not really Ten.”

“Wait.” Your smile dimmed. “What?”

“I’m Tomura. Shigaraki Tomura.”

You went still.

You knew the name. Everybody did. The guy who vanished after the League crumbled. The one with a death count and a face like a warning sign.

You looked at him, really looked, and then said quietly, “And you… you play Jhin in ranked.”

He blinked. “That’s what you’re focusing on?”

You smiled slowly, something tender and a little heartbroken. “You’ve got four kills, and I’m starting to think I’m one of them.”

He opened his mouth—but you held up a hand.

“I'm not running. Just… give me a sec to update my patch notes, alright?”

And then, in the same breath, you asked, “You still down to queue tonight?”

"Operation: Loopy"

You were a strong, independent aspiring hero. You’d faced villains, explosions, and Bakugo’s screaming. But none of that prepared you for the wildest opponent yet…

…a wisdom tooth extraction.

You blinked awake, mouth stuffed with gauze, brain foggy, and vision blurry. The fluorescent lights above you hummed like a villain’s theme music. Was this Tartarus?

“She lives!” a dramatic voice shouted. That was—oh god—Denki Kaminari, filming you on his phone.

“GET THAT CAMERA OUTTA MY EYE SOCKET!” you bellowed. Or at least, you thought you bellowed. It came out more like: “Geff dat camma outta my faysalkit.”

Mina popped into view, laughing hysterically. “Girl, you sound like you’re summoning demons!”

You tried to sit up. “Iz dis… is dis my quirk? Am I… a duck?”

“Honestly? Maybe,” said Kirishima, gently pushing you back down. “You’re being super unbreakable right now, though. Respect.”

You squinted at him. “You got… rocks for skin. Are you okay? Like emotionally?”

“Wow, even under anesthesia, she checks in on us,” Tsuyu said calmly from the foot of the bed. “That’s kinda sweet.”

“I love all of you,” you mumbled dramatically, reaching for Todoroki’s face. “Especially you, Mr. Ice-and-Fire Cream Sandwich…”

“…I’m gonna pretend that was a compliment,” Todoroki muttered, letting you poke his cheek with your numb finger.

Bakugo, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, muttered, “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. She’s a disaster.”

You gasped. “You take that back, Kacchan! I’m a beautiful disaster.”

The gauze puff in your mouth fell out mid-monologue and Denki nearly dropped his phone laughing. “We’re keeping that. That's going in the group chat AND your graduation video.”

Finally, the nurse arrived to check on you, only for you to gasp and shout, “WAIT. AM I STILL A DUCK?!”

“No, sweetie. You're not a duck.”

“...Disappointing.”

“Milk Meltdown”

Bakugo x Fem!Reader + Daughter Chaos + Newborn Baby

Genre: Humor, Family, Fluff

Warning: Embarrassment levels are HIGH

---

You had just settled into the rocking chair, your newborn daughter latched onto your boob like it owed her money.

It was peaceful. Quiet. Almost too quiet.

Cue your four-year-old, stomping into the room like she owned the place, holding a suspiciously empty juice box.

“MOMMY!” she gasped. “IS SHE EATING YOU?!”

You blinked. “What?”

She pointed, eyes wide in betrayal. “THE BABY! SHE’S EATING YOUR BOOB!”

Bakugo, walking past with a burp cloth, froze in place like a dead NPC.

“She’s not eating me, honey,” you tried to say calmly, even though your soul had left your body from secondhand embarrassment. “It’s called breastfeeding.”

Your daughter blinked. “Like...with milk?!”

You nodded. “Yes. Mommies make milk for babies. It’s how they eat before they can have real food.”

She stared. Then stared harder.

“So you're a cow now?”

Bakugo wheezed from behind the couch.

You glared at him. “Do not laugh. I swear to God.”

He coughed into his fist. “Nope. Not laughing. Totally serious.”

Your daughter looked suspicious. “So when I was a baby, I drank from your boobs too?”

You nodded.

She screamed like she was in a horror movie.

“WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME THIS?! I THOUGHT I JUST ATE APPLESAUCE!”

Bakugo was crying now. Fully crying.

“I’m never drinking milk again,” your daughter declared. “Ever. Never ever.”

“Good,” Bakugo said. “More for the baby.”

She turned to him, dramatic as ever. “Daddy, are your boobs full of milk too?”

You both stared.

Bakugo went redder than his hero costume. “No. No, they are not. And never will be.”

“But you got big ones,” she said, poking his chest.

You immediately whispered, “Rip, bro.”

Bakugo looked like he needed a support group.

---

Later that night…

Bakugo was laying face-down on the couch. “She called me a milk tank.”

“She’s just confused,” you said, cradling your newborn.

“She moo’d at me.”

“She’s four.”

He sat up. “I’m buying a book. No. A chart. A PowerPoint. I’m explaining everything before she thinks I lay eggs next.”

You snorted. “Go ahead. She still thinks babies come out of bellybuttons.”

He froze. “...I need a beer.”

“A Pup Among Cats”

Wild Wild Pussycats x Baby!Reader

Reader has a dog-related quirk (enhanced smell/hearing, maybe tail/ears?)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Found Family

---

The first time they saw you, you were curled up in a blanket way too big for your tiny body, floppy ears twitching at every sound, big watery eyes staring up at them like they were the biggest things in the world. Mandalay swore under her breath.

“A… dog?” Pixie-Bob blinked. “This baby has a dog quirk?”

“Yup.” The hero who dropped you off looked exhausted. “Enhanced senses. Sharp hearing, powerful nose, slight tail mutation. Probably some tracking potential when she’s older.”

Tiger folded his arms. “You do know we’re the Wild Wild Pussycats, right? We don’t really… deal with dogs.”

Mandalay sighed. “And yet you brought her to us.”

“She needs a home. And you’re registered as foster-capable for quirked kids. No one else has room for someone with her sensory needs. The shelters are full.” A pause. “She doesn’t have anyone else.”

You sneezed then. A tiny, pitiful thing. Your tail wagged once, unsure.

Ragdoll knelt down slowly. “Hi, sweet thing,” she whispered, reaching a hand out. You sniffed it with that super-powered nose of yours, ears perking. “You smell like… tuna,” you babbled.

Mandalay winced. “Okay, that’s kind of cute.”

Pixie-Bob huffed. “Just don’t expect me to like her.”

—

Three weeks later, Pixie-Bob was the one sleeping with you curled on her chest, brushing your little tail while muttering, “Dogs aren’t that bad.”

Tiger caught you trying to chase your own tail and had to step out because “something got in my eye.” Ragdoll taught you how to howl. Mandalay started keeping extra noise-canceling earmuffs in her bag for when your hearing got overwhelmed.

You weren’t a cat. You barked in your sleep and chewed on slippers.

But somehow, you fit. You were their little pup. The odd one out in a house full of felines.

And the Pussycats? They didn't just “deal” with dogs anymore.

They had a reason to love one.

---

Sorry if this was short!

“Explosive Encounters (of the Gassy Kind)”

Pairing: Bakugo x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff / Humor / Domestic Shenanigans

Warnings: Baby farts, mild language, Bakugo being Bakugo

---

You always knew Bakugo Katsuki had nerves of steel. After all, the man faced down villains without flinching, ran toward explosions like they were a minor inconvenience, and had the patience to deal with Deku daily. But today? Today was the true test of his endurance.

It started off sweet. Your three-week-old baby boy—chubby cheeks, tiny fists, and a surprisingly strong pair of lungs—was swaddled like a burrito and cradled in Bakugo’s arms. You were sipping lukewarm tea on the couch, watching your man try to lull your son into a nap with surprisingly gentle bouncing motions.

“See?” you smirked. “You’re a natural.”

“Tch. Of course I am. It’s not hard,” he grumbled, rocking side to side. “He even stopped cryin’. I’m a damn baby whisperer.”

And then it happened.

Pffffft.

It was soft, wet, and unmistakably dangerous. The air around Bakugo visibly shifted like a scene from a nuclear fallout.

His eye twitched.

“…Did that little monster just—?”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, stifling laughter. “Oh my god. I think that one came with a warning label.”

The baby squirmed in his arms, making a satisfied little grunt like he’d just claimed dominance over the household. Bakugo held him out at arm’s length like he was handling a ticking time bomb.

“You little gremlin,” he muttered. “You tryna gas me out of my own damn home?”

You doubled over in laughter as another pttbbt sounded off like a war horn from the baby’s backside.

“Again?!” Bakugo snapped, staggering back like he’d taken a direct hit. “What the hell are you feeding him?!”

“Tiny amounts of justice and breastmilk,” you managed through your giggles.

The baby cooed, clearly proud of himself.

“He’s mocking me,” Bakugo growled. “He knows what he’s doing.”

“I think he’s trying to bond with you.”

“He’s assaulting me.”

You got up and took your son from him, still laughing. Bakugo immediately started fanning the air around him like it was toxic gas. “I’ve smelled sewer leaks better than that.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And yet you fought sludge villains.”

“I’d take sludge over that any day.”

You nestled the baby against your shoulder, who let out a tiny burp followed by one last triumphant toot. Bakugo stared in pure disbelief.

“That’s it. I’m getting him little explosion onesies that say ‘My Quirk is Farting.’”

You grinned. “Matching ones for Daddy too?”

His glare could’ve leveled buildings. “You do not get to call me that after what just happened.”

But despite the threats and dramatic retching noises, he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple—and another to your gassy baby boy’s head, muttering, “You better grow outta this, punk.”

Spoiler alert: He didn’t. But Bakugo loved him anyway. Even if he had to wear nose plugs during tummy time.

---

No Time Like a Bad Time

Pairing: Bakugo x Reader

Rating: Mature / Explicit (soft smut, implied sex)

Setting: Bakugo's bedroom, evening

Tags: NSFW, semi-public risk, parental interruption, heavy makeout, implied penetration, humor

---

You never made it to the bed.

Your back was against his bedroom wall, legs around his waist, shirt lost somewhere near the door. Bakugo’s mouth was hot and possessive, hands rough as they slid up your thighs, pushing your underwear aside without a second thought.

“Couldn’t wait,” he growled, voice hoarse as he pressed his hips forward, teasing you with slow, maddening friction. “You come over lookin’ like that and expect me to keep my hands to myself?”

You moaned into his neck, fingers tangled in his hair. “We’re gonna get caught…”

“Don’t care.” His hand slipped between your bodies, and the next thing you knew, he was inside you in one slow, claiming thrust.

Your breath hitched, head falling back against the wall as he rocked into you, steady and deep. “Fuck,” you whispered, digging your nails into his shoulders. “Katsuki…”

“That’s right,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Say my name again.”

You were gasping against his mouth, trying to keep quiet, trying and failing. The heat between you was dizzying, his breath ragged in your ear, the sound of skin on skin filling the room—

And then the door slammed open.

“Hey, Katsuki, have you—”

Mitsuki’s voice froze mid-sentence.

You both froze too. Bakugo still inside you, your legs locked around him, his hand gripping your ass, both of you wide-eyed like deer in headlights.

Masaru’s horrified gasp came from behind her.

Bakugo didn’t even turn around. He just rested his forehead on your shoulder and let out the most exhausted sigh of his life. “…Fucking hell.”

You scrambled to yank the nearest blanket off the bed to cover yourself, but there was no real saving this moment.

Mitsuki’s scream could’ve shattered glass. “ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?! IN MY HOUSE?! WHILE I’M HOME?! WHAT THE FUCK, KATSUKI?!”

Masaru was already halfway down the hall, muttering something about trauma and therapy.

“OUT!” Bakugo barked, voice cracking like an explosion. “GET OUT!”

“YOU BETTER BE USING A CONDOM!” she shrieked before slamming the door shut with enough force to shake the walls.

Silence.

You blinked up at Bakugo, still inside you, still panting, both of you stunned into stillness.

“…So,” you said, barely able to look at him, “do we finish… or cry forever?”

He groaned. “Gimme ten seconds to reset my soul.”

---

You woke up in Bakugo’s bed tangled in sheets and shame.

The sunlight coming through the window was soft. The room still smelled faintly of sweat and skin and sex. Katsuki was still asleep, one arm draped lazily across your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

You considered pretending you were dead. That seemed easier than walking downstairs and facing the two people who had literally walked in on you mid-thrust less than twelve hours ago.

But then—like a horror movie jump scare—you heard Mitsuki yell from downstairs:

“BREAKFAST’S READY, YOU TWO! AND YOU BETTER COME DOWN FULLY DRESSED!”

Bakugo groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. “Nope. I’m faking my death. Tell my mom I’m gone. Left the country.”

You shoved his shoulder. “We have to go. If we don’t, it’ll somehow get worse.”

“I literally had my dick out when she walked in. It can’t get worse.”

You were wrong.

It got worse.

The moment you stepped into the kitchen, Masaru nearly choked on his coffee and refused to make eye contact with either of you. Bakugo kept his head down like a dog in trouble. You sat across from Mitsuki, who smirked like she’d been waiting her entire life for this moment.

“So…” she began, sipping her tea. “Did we have a good night?”

You choked on your juice.

Bakugo snapped, “MOM.”

“Oh relax. I’m not mad anymore,” she said cheerfully, piling eggs onto your plate. “Traumatized, sure. But it’s not like I didn’t know my son was sexually active. He’s loud enough when you’re not here.”

Masaru made a whimpering noise and physically left the room.

You wanted to melt into the chair and disappear.

“Katsuki, I hope you’re not just going at it raw like some idiot. I didn’t raise a dumbass.”

“I—what the hell kind of conversation is this?” Bakugo snapped, ears red. “Stop talking about my dick at the breakfast table!”

“I wouldn’t have to if you hadn’t been using it in front of me!” she shot back.

You slowly, silently put down your fork. “I’m… gonna go. Pack my stuff. Change my name. Maybe flee the country.”

Mitsuki smiled sweetly. “Take your time, sweetheart. You were excellent under pressure.”

You didn’t come back for breakfast again for two months.

As promised! Here is a bakugo fic from the poll♡

Sunkissed Secrets

Characters: Class 1-A x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Bakugo x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Light Romance

The sun was blazing overhead, its golden rays dancing on the ocean waves as laughter echoed across the shore. Class 1-A had finally earned a day off after weeks of intense training, and they were making the most of it with a beach trip.

Somewhere down the sand, Kaminari and Kirishima were in a heated (and mostly ridiculous) sandcastle competition. Todoroki sat under an umbrella, sipping cold juice like it was some sort of high-stakes mission. Midoriya was off with Iida collecting seashells for “strategic inventory reasons” no one really understood, and Mineta was being actively buried in the sand by Tsuyu and Jirou—at her suggestion.

Near the center of the beach, a group of girls—Mina, Ochaco, Momo, and Hagakure—were lounging on colorful beach towels, gossiping and sharing snacks.

You were stretched out on the sand, nestled comfortably on your boyfriend Bakugo’s broad, sun-warmed chest. His arm was lazily slung around your waist, and his eyes were closed behind his sunglasses, enjoying the peace. It was rare for him to look so relaxed. You smiled to yourself, heart full.

“You’re staring,” he muttered without opening his eyes.

“Can’t help it,” you replied with a grin. “You’re cute when you’re not yelling at everything.”

He cracked one eye open, scoffing. “I am cute all the time. You’re just too blind to appreciate greatness on the battlefield.”

You snorted and lifted your head just enough to plant a soft kiss on his lips. He didn’t fight it—in fact, his hand tightened slightly on your waist, lips pressing back with quiet intensity. The kiss lingered a moment longer than intended, the kind that leaves a buzz under your skin.

When you pulled back, Bakugo’s jaw clenched slightly, and his cheeks had the faintest tinge of red—not from the sun. You raised a brow, suspicious.

“…Babe?” you teased, sitting up a little. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just… stay put for a sec.”

You blinked, then felt it—his body stiffened beneath you in more ways than one. Your eyes widened slightly, then a mischievous smirk played on your lips. “Oh… did I do that?”

Bakugo groaned and tugged his towel over his lap. “Damn it, woman.”

From nearby, Mina peeked over her sunglasses. “Y/N, why do you look like you just caused a problem?”

“Don’t worry about it!” you called back, face pink but smug.

The girls exchanged glances and snickered. Bakugo cursed under his breath, dragging you closer so he could bury his face in your neck.

“If anyone says a word,” he murmured, voice low and threatening but laced with affection, “they’re getting blasted into next week.”

You giggled and rested your head back on his chest, heart fluttering.

Best. Beach. Day. Ever.

Yall I'm like rlly constipated rn XD😍

Can you make a fanfic that Reader is married to Bakugo and that she's pregnant. And that bakugo's parents are going to sleep over for the past next days due to the due date being so close. Bit midway the dinner, her water breaks. Or that in the middle of the night she gets up to get a glass of water because she's thirsty, and Mitsuki walks down a bit after her. And scares Reader, making her drop the glass of water to the ground. And it makes it look like her water broke, but it didn't. And then like 2 minutes after the rest of them come downstairs due to the noise, and think that her water broke, but Mitsuki reassures them that reader just dropped a glass of water, But then Just as she says "Water" Reader's water actually breaks.

Water, Water Everywhere

It was a peaceful evening at the Bakugo household. The warm glow of the kitchen lights illuminated the room where Bakugo and his wife, the reader, sat with his parents. The two had invited Mitsuki and Masaru over for the night—mostly because the due date for their first child was fast approaching. Bakugo wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type, but he was fiercely protective of his wife and wanted to ensure she had all the support she could get, even if it meant tolerating his parents' presence for a few days.

Reader was sitting comfortably beside Bakugo, resting her hand on her growing belly. The baby kicked gently as she absentmindedly traced circles on her bump. She couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed; the due date was coming closer and closer, and it seemed like everyone around her was holding their breath in anticipation.

“Do you need anything, sweetie?” Mitsuki’s voice cut through the air like the comforting warmth of tea. She was a little too excited about the upcoming birth.

“I’m good, just a little tired.” Reader smiled at her, the exhaustion clear in her eyes but her tone light.

Mitsuki’s eyes softened with sympathy, but she quickly pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge and set it down in front of Reader. “Stay hydrated, my dear. It’s important.”

"Yeah, don't make me worry," Bakugo grumbled from his seat across from them. "I swear, if anything happens to you, I’ll—"

“Don’t finish that sentence, Katsuki,” Mitsuki interrupted, rolling her eyes as she gently swatted her son’s arm.

They all chuckled, and the evening continued on, filled with lighthearted conversations and the gentle clink of plates and silverware. But as the night wore on, Reader's fatigue began to catch up with her. She stood up slowly, excusing herself as she made her way toward the kitchen. She was parched. The baby was pressing against her stomach in a way that made her feel like she couldn’t drink enough water.

She quietly filled a glass and took a long sip, leaning against the counter for a moment as she tried to steady herself. Her body was heavy, and the baby’s movements felt more intense than usual. Just as she was about to turn around, she heard soft footsteps coming from behind her.

Startled, she spun around, the glass of water slipping from her hand and shattering on the floor.

"Ah!" she yelped, hands flying to her mouth in surprise.

Mitsuki, who had entered the kitchen right behind her, blinked in confusion. She hadn’t expected to see her daughter-in-law quite so jumpy. “Sweetheart? Are you alright?”

The crash had been loud enough to stir everyone else upstairs, and within moments, Bakugo and his father appeared at the doorway of the kitchen.

“What the hell was that noise?” Bakugo growled, his voice sharp and full of concern. His eyes landed on the glass shards and the spilled water, and his posture immediately tensed. “Did… did your water break?”

Reader froze, her hand still clutching her chest as she stared at the mess on the floor. “I… I don’t think so. It’s just water.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just—” Masaru started, but Mitsuki held up a hand, cutting him off.

“Calm down,” she said, her voice reassuring but firm. “She just dropped the glass. Nothing to worry about. Right, dear?”

Reader nodded, though a small part of her felt a tiny pang of doubt. Had she actually felt something else? Was it possible?

But as Mitsuki opened her mouth to finish her explanation, Reader’s body tensed up again, and the unmistakable warmth of amniotic fluid began to trickle down her legs.

Mitsuki’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh my god… Did you just—?”

Before anyone could react, Bakugo’s eyes snapped to his wife’s face, then quickly down to her legs. His expression was a mixture of panic and disbelief. “You—your water just broke!” His voice cracked slightly, and it was the first time she’d ever heard him sound genuinely concerned.

“I... I think it did,” Reader said with a shaky breath, her voice betraying her calm exterior.

“Okay, okay,” Mitsuki said, suddenly all business. “Don’t panic. We need to get you to the hospital. Right now.”

Bakugo immediately rushed to his wife’s side, lifting her into his arms with ease. His usual tough exterior was momentarily cracked as he whispered against her ear, “I’m right here. You’re okay.”

Masaru, who was just trying to keep up with the situation, turned to his wife, looking both panicked and impressed. “This is really happening, huh?”

Mitsuki chuckled softly. “Don’t just stand there, Masaru! Get the bags ready, we’re going to be grandparents soon!”

As the chaos unfolded, Reader couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “Well… I guess we don’t need a dramatic entrance after all.”

And with that, Bakugo rushed his wife toward the door, eager to finally meet their baby—though he was pretty sure he was going to need a lot of coffee to survive the night.