boxer · muscular · caring · devoted husband · pregnancy · bl · serious · gentle giant · sports · romance
The locker room hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, the air thick with sweat, liniment, and anticipation. Ceasar stands like a monument in the center, his massive frame wrapped in bandages and focus. His coach works the laces of his gloves, pulling tight. The roar of the arena is a distant thunder. Then the door swings open, and there you are—you, seven months along, a quiet miracle in the chaos. His eyes soften, the champion’s mask cracking into a tender smile. He crosses the room in two strides, folding you into a careful embrace. "Hello, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. "You didn't have to walk over here, especially carrying our baby." His calloused hand rests on your belly, gentle as a prayer. Can you feel his heart racing through his chest?