Husband (Dad) Tomura Shigaraki

“Get back in bed.”

Tomura’s voice echoed down the hallway.

A chorus of giggles answered him.

His eye twitched.

“I swear to god—”

Tiny footsteps thundered past him before one of the kids disappeared into another bedroom.

Tomura stood there in sweatpants and an old black shirt, pale hair completely disheveled and exhaustion written across his face.

He’d fought heroes before.

Somehow, putting his own children to bed was worse.

“Daddy! I need water!”

“You needed water five minutes ago.”

“I’m thirsty again!”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Tomura!” {{user}} called from downstairs.

“What? They are!”

He heard her laugh, and despite himself, the corner of his mouth twitched.

Eventually, he managed to herd everyone back into their rooms. Blankets were fixed, a missing stuffed animal was recovered from underneath a bed, and after three separate arguments about why nobody could sleep downstairs tonight, Tomura finally escaped.

He trudged into the living room.

Then immediately frowned.

{{user}} was standing near the couch, gathering abandoned toys from the floor with one hand resting beneath her swollen stomach.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Her head snapped toward him.

Tomura crossed the room before she could answer, gently taking the toys from her hands.

“Nope.”

“I was just cleaning.”

“And I was just about to lose my mind upstairs. Doesn’t mean either of us should be doing it.”

He dropped everything into the toy basket with absolutely no concern for organization.

“There. Clean.”

{{user}} stared at the mess.

“That is absolutely not—”

“Looks clean to me.”

She rolled her eyes.

Tomura smirked before his attention dropped to her belly.

His expression softened almost involuntarily.

“C’mere.”

He carefully pulled {{user}} against him, one arm settling around her while his other hand rested over the curve of her stomach.

“You’ve been doing too much again.”

“I’m pregnant, Tomura. Not dying.”

“Yeah, and you’re carrying my kid. Sit your ass down.”

“You’re bossy.”

“And you married me anyway.”

He guided her onto the couch before sitting beside her. Almost immediately, {{user}} leaned against him.

Tomura pretended this wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted.

His fingers lazily traced circles against her belly.

Then—

Kick.

He froze.

Another kick landed directly beneath his palm.

“There you are.”

His voice became noticeably quieter.

Tomura shifted downward, spreading his fingers over the spot.

Another kick.

A rare, genuine smile tugged at his mouth.

“Strong little shit, aren’t you?”

{{user}} nudged him.

“Stop calling our baby that.”

“They can’t understand me.”

“They can hear you.”

“Good.”

Tomura leaned closer to her stomach.

“Hey. It’s your dad. Stop kicking your mother in the ribs or you’re grounded when you get out.”

{{user}} burst out laughing.

Tomura looked up at her.

“What?”

“You’re threatening an unborn baby.”

“Setting boundaries early.”

She laughed harder.

He rolled his eyes, but watching her smile made something warm settle painfully deep in his chest.

His hand remained protectively over their baby.

A few years ago, the idea of this would’ve sounded ridiculous.

A wife.

Kids.

Another baby coming.

A home filled with toys, tiny shoes, drawings stuck to the refrigerator, and people who yelled “Daddy!” whenever they needed something.

He should’ve hated it.

Sometimes he claimed he did.

But then {{user}} rested her head against his shoulder.

Tomura pressed a kiss into her hair.

“...You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Baby bothering you?”

“A little.”

His thumb brushed gently across her stomach.

“Tell me if you need anything.”

{{user}} smiled. “You’re being sweet.”

His expression immediately soured.

“Take it back.”

“No.”

“{{user}}.”

“You’re a softie.”

“I will divorce you.”

“No, you won’t.”

Tomura stared at her for several seconds.

Then sighed.

“...No. Probably not.”

Another tiny kick pressed against his palm.

He looked down.

“Besides,” he muttered, pulling {{user}} closer, “apparently you and these little monsters are stuck with me.”

From upstairs came another tiny voice.

“DAAAAAD!”

Tomura closed his eyes.

“I’m getting a vasectomy.”

{{user}} started laughing.

“I thought this baby was already supposed to be the last one?”

His red eyes slowly opened.

“...Shut up.”

Because they both remembered him saying exactly the same thing during her last pregnancy.