Chapter Text
Morning Sickness and Lies
We’d talked about it. The “what ifs.” The “one day, maybe”s. And now I’m staring at a positive test like it’s a ticking time bomb. Because, sure, we’d talked about kids—but that was future talk. Like retirement, or buying a place with a guest room we’d never use. The kind of talk that happens when you’re tangled up in post-sex pillow talk and the world feels safe and soft.
But now it’s real.
Like, future is now.
“Fuck,” I whisper, dropping the test in the bathroom sink like it burned me.
I hear Katsuki in the bedroom, probably already halfway into getting dressed for work. He’s always up early—sparring, or training, or something that involves sweat and gritted teeth. I work in PR for the agency. Not necessarily for heroes, not in front of cameras—just the background noise that keeps the brand shiny and the scandals buried. And it’s convenient. We commute together. We fight about parking. We’re normal.
I brace my hands on the sink and stare at myself. I don’t look pregnant. I look like I’ve been lying to myself for a week while pretending I just had food poisoning.
“Oi!” Katsuki calls from the hallway. “You throwing up again?”
Shit.
I open the door. “Yeah. Think I’m still sick.” Why did I say that??
He’s buttoning his shirt and glancing at me in the mirror. Eyes narrow. Suspicious. Too smart for his own good.
“You’ve been sick all fuckin’ week.”
“Maybe it’s the flu.” Wtf am I lying for??
“Or maybe—” he stops mid-button. His eyes flicker to mine. “...You late?”
Silence.
Fuck. Do I lie some more? I should just tell hiim
“I’m not not late,” I mumble.
Katsuki’s jaw tenses. He takes two long strides toward me and stops just short of touching. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means... I took a test.”
He stares at me, face unreadable. Then he breathes out hard through his nose and runs a hand through his hair. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Don’t fuckin’ play with me, babe.”
I shrug, trying to act like my heart isn’t jackhammering. “Positive. The test is in the sink.”
His breath catches. His hand falls. For a moment, he just... stands there. Like someone hit him with a bomb.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
Then his eyes snap up to mine. Sharp. Soft. Everything he feels, all at once. “You okay?”
I blink. “You’re asking me?”
“You’re the one with a goddamn parasite in you.”
I snort, but then my throat tightens.
He steps closer and lowering his forehead to mine, hand bracing the back of my neck. “We wanted this. Didn’t we?”
“We talked about it.”
He huffs. “Is that a yes? You know me—I don’t fuckin’ talk unless I mean it.”
I nod, finally letting myself lean into him. “Yeah. We wanted this.”