#tw unexpected pregnancy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

specialgradefckr · 6 months ago

Text

Heatwave: Day 1

tw: explicit content, 5k+ words, reader/sukuna. female!reader, beta!reader, alpha!sukuna, true form!sukuna. oral (male/female receiving), PIV, size difference, sukuna has a knot, sukuna is lowkey a masochist, some anal (not the reader's ass).

Prompt: Betas serving as royal sex concubines without fear of pregnancy.

It wasn’t as bad as one might expect, being Ryomen Sukuna’s concubine.

Oh, he was terrifying, certainly. Death wasn’t uncommon in the household, though rarer than some might think.

Sukuna traveled often, sampling both the lands and the people within them, returning to the estate only when it pleased him to do so.

Everyone in the estate knew their master’s expectations and the consequences for not meeting them. Only the rare missteps resulted in punishments, though they were indeed brutal.

On some occasion, the lord’s aide would bring half-dead curses - or corpses of enemy sorcerers - to a separate building on the estate for some strange and nefarious purpose.

It made no difference to you. The estate was clean and well-maintained, the servants attentive, and the stocks never ran low.

You were living the perfect life.

No one denied you anything. You could summon merchants, make the odd trip into town, and entertain yourself however you wished, provided you fulfilled your responsibilities as a concubine.

You were a nobody before you came to the estate.

You’re still a nobody, but everyone here is a nobody in Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes.

Your lifespans are determined by how useful you were to him at any given moment.

And he had an unexpected use for a common whore like you.

It was probably more surprising that you were a beta, and not an omega – infinitely more desirable for an alpha like the lord, one would assume.

You’d never presumed to pry before, but it’s easy to speculate, after having known him long enough.

He’s a powerful man, utterly indifferent to societal standards or norms. His desire and satisfaction were above all other things, just as he was above everyone weaker than him. And everyone was weaker than him.

It was hard to imagine him at the mercy of an omega’s potent pheromones, longing for the comfort of his partner’s nest, pining for the love of his mate, or driven madly to lust by the scent of a rut.

Or perhaps he indulged plenty, but so much fervor could only end in bloodlust on his part. Any omega summoned to his chambers to serve his pleasure never returned.

You do fare luckier in that respect. He may not have been gentle lover, but as long as you’d served him he’d left you with no more than bruises and bite marks.

And he could hurt you, destroy you, utterly disfigure you in permanent and terrifying ways… with just a casual glancing blow.

Sukuna is present on this night, though, and it appears he’s summoned you.

His aide, Uruame, is far closer to him than any of his concubines, and by now you know the sound of their footsteps slowing as they near your door.

They smile at you as you open the door for them, bowing before your eyes meet theirs.

Uruame is not fond of any of their lord’s concubines, as a rule. Being a beta themselves, it’s unlikely they understand Sukuna’s needs as an alpha any better than you do.

But what they can understand is that you respect their lord immensely. A sorcerer yourself, you know enough to appreciate the scale of his power, and you had never made any secret of your admiration.

Unlike many other concubines brought in, you had very little arrogance to show for your beauty and bedroom skills. Uruame probably does appreciate that.

You’re a beta from a brothel, so you have no delusions of self-importance, but Sukuna, and by extension Uruame, couldn’t care less where you came from.

You know their purpose as soon as they arrive; they don’t need to engage in any inane conversation or instructions.

As soon as Sukuna had returned, you’d readied and dressed yourself in case he were to summon you. It happens more often than not whenever he’s back at the estate.

You suspect you’re the only one he summons during his rut.

His omega concubines are… single-use. Your fellow betas are few in number, and he’s no more forgiving with his concubines than he is his other servants.

You follow Uraume to his room. You can’t tell if he’s in a rut or not, but your suspicion is confirmed as Uruame gives a short nod, then strides off.

Sukuna doesn’t like being seen during his rut. Many have learned the hard way.

“Well? What are you waiting for, an invitation?” His voice is as gruff as ever. Low, heady, a delicious groan that sends shivers down your form.

He didn’t ask to be answered, of course. The only appropriate response to Sukuna’s question is action.

Quickly you slide the door open and shut it behind yourself as you fall into a low bow. You don’t meet his eyes without permission.

“Get up.” Your cue to sit up, to not bother with any further formalities. His rut must be well underway. “Come over already.”

You don’t waste any more time. He sounds impatient, and he probably is, but any less deference could see your head separated from your body. It’s especially important not to touch him first, to let him touch you.

Sukuna loathes being touched without permission.

It’s not something you have to worry about, though. As soon as you’re within reach, one of his hands bears down onto your shoulder; to him, it’s as good as an explicit instruction.

You never subject Sukuna to the indignity of having to voice his desires.

Perhaps that’s why he likes you so – there’s a flash of something pure alpha, an intense delight in his eyes as you kneel and attend to him in prefect obedience and submission.

Falling to your knees at his feet, wasting not even a second, you work to free his painful erection from the confines of his clothes.

Practiced hands accomplish it easily, and you’re rewarded with a large hand that strokes through your hair, brushing it back out of your face and holding it there.

His erection springs forward, as impatient as he is. His knot is already swollen up.

It’s red and flushed, pink to match his hair, heavy and thick like all the rest of his limbs.

Even an omega would blanch at taking such a monster. You are well-trained.

It’s enough just to lick at it, some cursory strokes to wet the shaft with his precum, to touch your lips to his heated flesh. Searing, really.

Wide, open-mouthed kisses dragged along him until his cock is coated well enough with spit and his own pre.

Without any further hesitation you open your mouth wide and take him all the way down to the knot, lips thinning where his cock swells and throbs.

The head is already lodged in your throat, and you swallow as you take it down, pressing your lips in. A moan tells you he’s already growing sensitive.

It wouldn’t feel very good for him to knot in your throat – he’s never bothered with it before – but there’s always a flash of satisfaction in his eyes.

Sukuna doesn’t want to knot your throat, but it pleases him to think that he could. That you are willing and ready to take it, if he wished.

“Good little beta." The mouth on his abdomen seems to grin at you, wide and dripping saliva.

A fire ignites in your belly at the praise, face heating up, your own mouth opening wide.

No matter what you are, Sukuna is an alpha through and through, and the desire to please surges as his hand presses you forward.

As a concubine or a common harlot, you’d always been good at your job.

Sorcery had delivered you from the streets and into Sukuna’s estate, and diligence, determination, had kept you alive throughout it all.

Others died around you. Weak. You would do whatever it took to survive, however ugly it may be.

Taking cock down your throat isn’t even close to the most degrading thing you’ve done, and at least there’s only one man now for you to serve.

He’s not even a bad lay. Either a suppressed instinct to please his mate as an alpha or some fortuitous chemistry has always ensured he brings you to release whenever you fuck.

The unmarred half of his face is undeniably handsome, and after all you’d seen, you’re utterly indifferent to the deformity. It’s just there. A part of him like any other – the other arms, the other mouth.

You’re sure you yourself have flaws in his eyes, but if he truly did not want you, you’d never have been allowed in his chambers to begin with. Sukuna is a man with absolutely no interest in pretenses. He takes what he wants, when he wants it, always.

Sometimes, you think that you and Sukuna aren’t all that different after all.

An alpha who was malformed, cast out by society, recognized only in disgust or fear.

And you, sold by a father eager to make any money he could off a pretty beta daughter.

You were unfit to be an alpha’s bride, but perfectly suited to be every alpha’s whore.

If you wanted happiness, you had to seize it, even if it meant choking the life out of someone else.

Both of you were worth only as much as you could curse others. Sukuna’s worth is greater than yours, but in his shadow everyone is equally worthless, and in his gaze – at least for this moment – you are worthy of him.

The fingers in your hair tighten; a hiss, “Take it!” and you suckle diligently as you bob backwards, diving forward straight away to take him to the root again.

Inhuman though he may be, his cock is much the same as any other alpha’s, if a bit larger.

Hot, smooth skin, veins that pulse and bulge inside your mouth. A salty taste you’d grown accustomed to, a stretch in your mouth and your jaw that you ameliorated by focusing on hollowing your cheeks, dragging your tongue along it.

Betas can’t purr, not like omegas or alphas can, but you approximate it with a hum, a gentle sigh through your nose and fluttering, lowered lashes.

A low exhalation. Controlled. “There she is…” The hand in your hair goes to stroke possessively over your cheek. “My little beta. All for me.”

His eyes dilate in lust – you always meet his gaze while you do this, for as long as you’re able, you know he likes this – and you know before you feel the touch of his hand on your jaw to begin drawing back.

His hand barely ghosts you before you move, leaving trails of saliva strung between your lips and his shining cock while you gaze up at him.

Another theatric he enjoys. His tongue darts out from his lips, grasping and stroking himself, hand coated in a sweet-smelling oil you recognize.

His other arms reach to grasp you by the shoulder, pulling you up to stand and burying your face in his neck wordlessly.

They wrap around you, pulling you into him as he steps back to sit on the bed where you follow.

It surprises you every time, just how much your body comes alive at his touch.

Heart racing as if it can jump through your skin and into the hands that trace your throat, your collarbone, down your chest, dragging the slip of a robe you’d worn down with it.

Sukuna likes undressing you, alpha that he is.

Like you’re a sacred treasure to be unveiled only by his hands. You always wear something easy to take off, and nothing else.

His touch is your leave to respond in kind; he’s fully bared, now, all tattooed skin and corded muscle.

A warrior’s form, conveying power and strength in every divot and valley. Your heart races as you lay your hands on him.

Maybe it’s the thrill of it.

Sukuna is utterly untouchable. The greatest sorcerers of your time had died failing to scratch the smooth, unbroken skin he offers to you so freely.

As a concubine, you don’t get much contact. Less still, since no one would dare lay a hand on a consort Sukuna summons so often to his side.

Normally that suited you just fine, but sometimes with him you feel like a dog straining on a leash.

Desperate for him to reach out, to feel him on you. Lust and adrenaline coursing through you the instant he makes contact.

Even as a beta, this close, it’s impossible not to smell him; he’s pulled you to his throat on instinct.

His scent glands are right there, and you don’t hesitate to lick at them, letting your breath ghost over the hot, spit-slicked skin. Dragging your teeth along the swollen flesh.

That’s one of the things he likes best. He knows you’re a beta. You have no fangs, you couldn’t mark him if you wanted to. Not with anything but curses.

But still, it is a pleasure. The salt on your tongue, the flesh that yields beneath your teeth, even without breaking, as the alpha’s aroma fills your senses.

Sukuna is spiced; harsh, in some ways, like cinnamon, but warm like a pleasant woodsmoke, like the heat of oil burning in a lamp. Just this side of decadent – opulent, almost, and still primal and raw.

It doesn’t affect you like you imagine it would an alpha or omega. But it’s nice. He smells nice.

You don’t hesitate to nip at his lips when he presses them to yours.

Perhaps one of the reasons Sukuna hates being touched without permission is because he also doesn’t care to be touched gently.

If he weren’t in rut, you would have dragged your teeth over his cock while it was in your mouth, but he’s not able to savor such services in his current state.

They’re red, so red, all his four eyes staring into you. Burning in want. In want of you.

“Fierce little thing.” You can taste his grin, you’re close enough. “See how fierce you’ll be when you’re full of me. My beta. Mine.”

“Yours,” You agree breathily, and lean back in to catch his mouth with your own.

His lips are one place you’re able to make him bleed, dragging the bottom lip beneath your teeth and pinching it, then darting your tongue in to taste.

Sukuna hums at the taste of metal in his mouth, sucks your tongue between his lips to press and purse and suckle on at his leisure. Brilliant red eyes half-lidded in lust.

Your hands get to work, one of them cupping his jaw and then his hair, brushing it back in a way that makes him preen now that he’s in rut and can’t suppress it.

Alphas love getting petted, and Sukuna loves the scrape of fingernails over his scalp, a tight tug against his hair; it all sends his knot pulsing against you.

“Here. Your mouth had a taste, let’s see how your cunt likes it.” His arms lift you up just enough to sit over his well-muscled legs.

Your thighs spread while his cock falls forward, between your thighs.

Sukuna holds you there, just far enough, letting it rub against you with little tugs to your hips. Desire sparking like flint where his length rubs against you. Fuck.

Oh, you want him. Ache for him. It pulls low in your core, to lean into him, to feel his arms holding you in place, to feel him all against you.

You wrap your arms around him in return, clawing at his shoulders as the mouth on his stomach tongues between your legs. It’s exquisite and agonizing all at once. Slick and dragging against you, heavy and broad.

He’s already purring at the taste of you. Hands clenching in desire over the roundness of your hip.

You want him. You want him.

You can have him, take him, touch, touch, touch. Dig your teeth into the firm muscle against his neck to feel his purr grow louder under your teeth.

Your curse technique flickers at your fingertips, dancing over the open canvas of his back.

Inhaling sharply, you think you hear him swear, and then, “Yes.” He laughs breathily, “More. Put more into it. That can’t be all you’ve got.”

It isn’t. The sound of him is everywhere now, vibrations that shake you all the way to your core.

The mouth on his belly still laps at your folds. It drools on your folds like you’re a meal he cannot wait to savor.

Sukuna is already running hot. It’s too easy when he’s like this, all heated, blood pumping heavy through every part of him.

Just beneath the surface you feel it; searing, boiling, heat jumping up to meet your touch. Like liquid fire underneath his skin, you’d heard it described. Exhilarating, Sukuna had called it.

A talent half-learned by accident in the steamy, lurid, filthy recesses of the brothel you’d worked at. A dark place filled with malice and jealousy, reeking of curses in every corner. One day you’d awoken with a strength that sung in your veins, screamed to be used.

You had learned to vanquish shadows with a flick of your wrist, the creatures bursting from the inside.

Once, on a lark, you’d tried it on a client who struggled to maintain his hardness. It had been remarkably effective, pooling blood in his cock, and with a little work you were able to reproduce it in other ways.

It had all been success from there. Climbing the ranks, scoring pleasure into the flesh of those who paid you well enough.

Oh, it was painful, too, but what pleasure in life came without a little pain? If you wanted something, you had to be willing to sacrifice for it.

A founding principle of jujutsu. It’s no wonder Sukuna so delights in battle, either against sorcerers or in his own bed; when you heat his blood in his veins it sends his knot pulsing, throbbing, twitching in excitement as pre drips out.

With him holding you so close you can feel his purring throughout your whole body.

A rare pleasure, a prize you win with vicious effort, cursed energy surging in your hands as you rake your nails over the glorious, muscled expanse of his back.

“Open,” Sukuna commands.

It’s a tone that never fails that make you tremble in anticipation. Your cunt is already dripping with it.

The part of your legs widen, and you lean back to look down at where he’s settled against you.

He’s so large. Always so large. The knot swelling already.

You’re clenching already, quivering, like you’re the one in heat and not he in his rut.

God, you want him to fuck you already.

One massive hand reaches down, stroking over his cock, wet with your saliva, his precum, and the oil substitute for an omega’s slick.

It nudges at your cunt and you let out a short whimper that sends him snarling, thick fingers digging sweet bruises into your hips.

“Always so sweet for me,” His lips ghost over your temple as he stares down, “Delectable. Strong little thing, you can take it.”

The head of his cock slots against your entrance. Fuck, it’s hot, burning, searing, you’re so fucking ready, your cunt is weeping and you feel like keening for it, “Please. Alpha, please.”

You can almost see it in his eyes, red and feral with need. Omega, my omega, my mate – all the things you’ve heard from alphas before.

Clingy, possessive, biting at you, rutting into you like they can breed you. All the filthy things whose beds you’d warmed in the past.

They all pale in comparison to the King of Curses. Hot and throbbing and silken against your entrance, the deep grunt of effort that you feel when he lines himself up and drives himself in.

The very sensation knocks the wind out of you.

Sukuna slides in easily but it’s tight, so tight, always. You feel him feel it, too, all those muscles growing taut before you as he sinks into you.

Your arms tremble before they remember what to do; grasping carelessly at his shoulders, clawing for purchase as the whines claw their way up your throat. They’re shoved back down by the deep moan you make when he reaches the end of your passage.

“F-fuck,” it’s good, it’s so good, it hurts so good and there’s nothing you can do but sit there and take it. Just as he told you to.

It’s always a bit painful, but there’s a pleasure in it, too, the piercing delight of being so thoroughly fucked into. You swear you feel yourself dripping out where he enters you, and you moan again at the feeling of him dragging himself out.

A low noise, a chuckle; like every sound Sukuna makes, you feel it just as much as you hear it.

“Do it again.” He demands, and you would never make the alpha wait.

You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

He pushes into you again and your moans crack, because he slides through easier this time but it’s just so big, so fucking huge you feel your walls trying to flex, envelop him, desperate to find any give at all, but there’s just no give.

It’s like having solid steel lodged inside you, burning hot and smooth against your core.

“Good beta.” Sukuna effortlessly lifts you up by the hips, dragging you off his cock and savoring how you whine at its loss, “My good little beta. Squeezing me so tight.”

He drops you down, down, back onto him. Cock thrusting up into you, cleaving your cunt apart, hitting a spot that makes you wail. Sukuna laughs, and you can feel his cock twitching.

“Need my cock, do you, little beta?” The rut is at its height now, pulling him in, smearing possession all over his face, his evil grin. “Even if it breaks you apart?”

All you can do is nod while you pant. He pulls you up and down by the waist, fucking you on his cock like a tool for his pleasure –

And Sukuna has never failed to use a tool to its fullest extent. “Fuck, fuck – fuck, alpha, please – please, please – ”

His own laughter is broken up by heavy breaths. One of his huge hands grasps you by the scruff of your neck, and you try to go obediently limp but your whole body jerks with the unrestrained force of his fucking into you.

Tight and unforgiving, baring your throat for him to dive into. An alpha in the midst of his rut. His teeth graze over your neck, licking where scent glands would normally be.

“Please,” Your breath catches in your throat at Sukuna’s kiss, all teeth and feral smiles pressed into your skin.

He stays like that for a moment, knot pulsing desperately just outside of your cunt.

Grinding into you like he thinks he can fit it in – you both know it can’t, you simply don’t have the anatomical space of an omega. But it feels good.

So good. It rubs, hot and throbbing against your clit, and fuck if you don’t nearly cum from it right there, tightness in your core heavy and ready to burst.

“Sukuna,” You say his name in a broken moan.

Teeth in your jugular. Hot tongue over your throat.

Hands gripping your sides. Moving you up and down like a puppet.

Cock pressing and pressing into you, relentless. Pleasure lapping at your insides as his cock rocks into you, begging to be let in.

A thumb on your clit, rubbing circles. “Cum, beta. Cum for your alpha – hngh – cum now – ”

Pleasure bursts through you, as if brought to life by his words. White hot and overflowing, every part of your body floating on air.

It’s like you’re a feather in his hands. Airy lightness fills you and even the stretch between your legs feels pleasant, a welcome intrusion, cunt blissfully numb.

Sukuna fucks you through it all the while, breathless, determined, on the brink himself as he chases the friction of you squeezing the life out of him.

You twitch in his grasp, aftershocks trembling through. He holds you upright easily, letting your head fall forward while he drags you up and down, mindlessly brushing his burning knot against your entrance.

It’s several moments before you catch yourself; it makes no difference to Sukuna. Your climax brought him closer, but not there, not just yet.

It’s with the giddy sort of warmth your afterglow brings that you lazily grope the space next to the bed.

You find the vial of oil he’d used earlier, and easily unscrew the top and spread it across your fingers with a single hand.

Sukuna had stared a moment the first time he saw you do that. So you have a sorcerer’s dexterity after all, he’d said, and it was the compliment you’d treasured most to date.

This time, his eyes don’t leave your body. All four of them, red and fiery and burning into you. Your chest. Your face.

They linger where your bodies are joined, at the stretch of your cunt taking him, the hole that has no more to give him but squeezes him anyways.

You can tell by his ragged breaths he needs more stimulation, heavy in rut and knotted tight as he is. That’s fine. You’ve done this before.

Slicked fingers find his waist, and then lower, to his ass. He parts his knees further, as if for more leverage to thrust fruitlessly against you, and you take the opportunity to squeeze one well-muscled cheek with your dripping hand.

The sharp inhale – you’re sure he’d hate to hear it called a gasp – “Beta!” – tells you you’re free to go ahead.

So you do, digging your fingertips into his ass, into a hole too well-oiled to not have been prepared beforehand.

A rumble swells, in his chest, his throat, pressing hard against you along with his cock, nudging his knot further against your entrance.

You tease along the rim and then drive into it. He hisses as it burns, knot throbbing against you, massive hands squeezing bruises and then caressing them as soon as they bloom.

It’s delicious, the way it clenches at your fingertips, tight and furled up, but you slip in easily with his preparation and your oiled fingers.

Darting into the yielding warmth of his insides, a pleasure that has him seizing against you, all muscle and magnificent form trained on your touch.

Your cunt clenches at the thought, the power you have in this moment; it squeezes the cock spearing you and sends tremors through his form.

“Clever girl,” He rumbles as you drag along his insides, “Clever fingers,” another heavy thrust, fingers twitching, “More,” thrust, shudder, “More!”

With a heated urgency your fingers curl, feeling, pressing around in a way that has Sukuna panting, teething at your shoulder, kneading hands against your hips while you search for just the right spot.

His knot presses insistently against your entrance, where there’s no space for you to receive it, but it catches on your oversensitive clit enough to make you gasp and whine.

Sukuna grins, mouth wide open, drooling like the feral, satisfied monster he was.

“Beta…” he hums, and it feels like he’s saying your name, as close to a loving coo as a creature like him can make.

And then, then, you find it, as you have so many times before. A high, keening noise Sukuna would be otherwise unwilling to part with, drawn out from him in the height of his rut.

You press into a bundle of flesh through his insides. A spot that sends him rutting wildly against you, unconcerned with his knot or anything besides fucking and feeling more of that pressure into him.

It’s almost all you can do to keep it coming, your other arm flailing desperately to reach around him for any kind of purchase while he thrusts your mind away.

Pleasure finds you again but this is liquid flames instead of white hot.

It pours out from you, spilling everywhere, the feeling of his release spurting inside you.

Full, full, fuller, so full you swear you’re bursting, it feels so fucking good. Flowing out over his cock, against your cunt, where his hurried thrusts squeezes it into a lewd, sopping met against your clit.

This one brings tears to your eyes. The sound of it, wet and squelching, utterly lewd, like you can feel the tremors of pleasure that have you milking him for cum that cannot impregnate you.

His hands are all that ground you, points on your body where his touch had ceased to be painful, to be anything but a feeling of him against you, the warm and powerful alpha who’d taken you to his bed, monster or not.

Sukuna groans and pants his heart out, still fucking into you while your eyes are glassy and all movement has left your body.

Your clever little hand fallen to the side as its purpose was fulfilled, his knot finally unraveling into the delicious joy of breeding you.

Ahh. He can admit the look in his eyes when he looks at you is fondness, to some degree. His perfect little beta. Wicked fingers and the smartest mouth he’d ever seen. Always so good for him.

He lays himself down alongside you on the bed, still buried deep in you, cum leaking slowly away.

The mess never bothered him, not in the torrid, heated moments of bodies entwined. He’d bathe with you later.

So warm. Always warm and welcoming him, your cunt is the most exquisite hole he’s ever known, but it’s the rest of you that makes it worth his time. Every time.

There’s something about it that sends a frenzy through him.

A hurried urge, like a desire to run or jump or lash out, but instead it makes him want to wrap his entire self around you and laugh in wicked delight.

It feels like fire on the battlefield, blood on his tongue, power coursing through every pore, seas ready to part at his command. It feels like strength, but he’s not even holding you very tightly.

He takes a deep breath, face pressed to your hair; beta. A faint, pure, neutral scent, so unmistakable in its cause. It elicits no particular reaction, stirs no great curiosity or lust.

But you do. It’s easy, natural, to wrap all four arms around you and squeeze. Your perfect figure yielding in his grasp, compressing beneath him, legs folding as he swings one over yours.

A purr rumbles deep in his chest as the sensation envelops him.

Touching, holding, entwined. You, completely full of him, made docile with his cum and his knot, surrendering to his embrace. All his. All for him.

Your boneless, weak figure in his arms, the little sigh of bliss you let out… it’s a feeling that’s only come to him in the midst of battle, curses coursing, glorious, in every direction.

A thrill of triumph that enervates, lightens every one of his limbs and sets him with a feeling of utter satisfaction.

Sukuna is purring in earnest now, and he can’t even bring himself to be annoyed by it.

Why suppress his instincts for the beta that so perfectly warms his bed? Why restrain himself in any way, when you’re wholly incapable of binding him, of bearing pups or marking him, and serve him with such delectable vigor?

An arm, so much smaller than his, slowly slips itself over his waist. You’re barely conscious, pretty face all flushed from your climax, unable to even open your eyes.

But your head drifts towards his chest even while asleep, where the vibrations are the strongest. Tucked under his neck, nestled in him and his scent.

An alpha’s purr is usually a sign of contentment, but it’s supposed to be soothing to omegas. As far as he knows, it doesn’t have any particular effect on betas.

Sukuna supposes it’s probably just you.

It’s so easy to reduce you to want, to unrestrained lust, pure and devoted entirely to him. Why should he need an omega when he has this at his beck and call?

You can’t be bred, of course – that was the whole point of using a beta. But sometimes he does wonder.

What you would look like if you were with child. Breasts heavy with milk, the mild scent of a beta humming with the life nurtured within.

You’re strong. You’d produce fine offspring. Your curse technique is interesting in its own right – igniting a person’s own cursed energy from beneath their skin. Not remarkable in effectiveness, but wholly unique in its operation.

Would it stop his ruts, to see you pregnant for some time? You’re the only one he spends them with, so seeing you pregnant might just delay them, without the influence of an omega’s hormones.

Would he grow more aggressive as you neared delivery? Would his instincts command him to slay your spawn so he could fill you with his own?

Uruame is a beta, and has the necessary parts. He could breed you without all the tiresome mechanics of a bond between alpha and omega; place his two favorite subjects together and watch as his loyal subject bred his most treasured concubine for him.

Watching you take in the seed of someone other than him… but Uruame is a beta, and belongs to him as much as you do. If he scented them as well, perhaps? They always had very little scent of their own.

Heat stirs within him at the thought. It’s too early to tell if it’s anger at the idea or arousal, especially in the state he’s in.

You make a little noise, and all four eyes shoot down to look over your form, all sweat and heat and dripping cum.

He shifts to move some of his weight off of you, sliding onto his back and settling your head on his chest so you can drift to sleep to the sound of his purring.

After all, his rut is just beginning. Sukuna can spare you some rest…

For an hour or so.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #omegaverse #beta!reader #alpha!sukuna #lemon #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #afab!reader #female!reader

920 notes · View notes

iamagodjkimcatholicicantsaythat · 1 year ago

Note

Also, who says slim and fit = good looking?

If a man is fooled by the societal idea that there is an ideal image of beauty for women (which usually is the way it is for some weird sub conscious reason), then he's dumb shit and I don't want him

Men also stop finding their wives attractive after they give birth because they'll never be slim and fit again. Do you really want to risk losing your man to some got 19 year old?

If my man is scummy enough to reject me for basic biology, I do not want him. It is sexist to expect women to prioritize being attractive to a man over the life of their own child and acceptance of their female biology.

#pregnancy #unplanned pregnancy #unexpected pregnancy #unwanted pregnancy #pregnant #tw abortion

741 notes · View notes

pin-k-ink · 5 months ago

Note

nwjwnsjshwuw im thinking abt having a big argument with hoshina and ending in a rough rough smexy love makingg PLS PLS

daredevil // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ dub-con, manhandling, threats, mentions of injuries and death, mild objectification, rough sex, hair pulling, biting/marking, cunnilingus, blowjob, asphyxiation, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex, power play, degradation/name calling, face-fucking, dacryphilia, dirty-talking, squirting, it’s kinda fluffy halfway through

wc ⇢ 6.9k

a/n: i got emotional halfway through because im not used to writing characters being this mean. i legit cried. i think you can see the moment i switched up T_T

The sharp bark of Soshiro's voice sliced through the ops room like a whip-crack, killing the busy din dead. You felt those clipped syllables punch straight through the chaos and detonate somewhere deep in your gut.

Fingers frozen on the holographic display, you didn't need to turn and verify the sudden tension coiling through the atmosphere. No, you could taste the aura of displeasure rolling off your boyfriend in practically visible waves from here.

"[Y/N]." Soshiro's growl cut through the stifling quiet like a blade, frayed patience and restrained irritation strung so tightly you could practically picture the vein pulsing at his temple. "A word. Now."

You drew in a steadying breath, fighting the tiny reflexive flutter that sparked low in your belly at that display of pure, smoky dominance. Get it together - he's clearly pissed, not putting on a show for your viewing pleasure. Yet.

Squaring your shoulders, you pivoted to face the stormy-eyed glare currently attempting to bore holes straight through your skull. Soshiro filled up the doorway like an imposing sentinel, arms corded with restrained menace, expression thunderous enough to shrivel houseplants at twenty paces. His violet hair stuck up in wild disarray from where he'd no doubt been raking anxious fingers through the tumbled strands.

But it was the scorching intensity blazing in those hooded scarlet eyes that really snared your attention. The crimson irises were near eclipsed into molten rubies framed by a few slivers of hungry violet, all razored focus currently centered on drinking in every subtle micro-expression flickering across your features.

You refused to be cowed so easily, however. Keeping your shoulders rolled back, you arched one brow in studied defiance and allowed your lips to quirk in a subtly smug smirk.

"Oh, hi babe," you greeted with intentional lightness, forcing your tone to remain easy and unbothered as you blinked up at him from beneath your lashes. "Everything okay?"

You allowed a tiny pout to exaggerate your expression into one of affected innocence - the picture-perfect vision of blameless bewilderment. The muscle ticking along Soshiro's jaw was the only warning before he bulldozed straight through your attempted deflection with the subtlety of a wrecking ball through rice paper.

"Cut the innocent act, [Y/N]-chan," he near growled, the unexpected endearment somehow dripping with more menace than sugared intimacy. Soshiro's nostrils flared as he visibly struggled to rein in whatever was quickly fraying his legendary restraint to mere threads. "Ya know damn well why I'm pissed."

Doing your best to smother the tiny thrill that sparked brighter at his thinly veiled anger, you blinked up at Soshiro through your lashes. You made a show of tracing your gaze down the powerful column of his throat, over the broad, heaving expanse of his chest and sleekly-muscled abdomen just to see his jaw tick again before replying.

"Actually, I don't have a clue, Shiro," you drawled, allowing your voice to dip into a lower, slightly breathier register as you emphasized his nickname with just a hint of taunting lilt. "Care to enlighten me?"

The low, subsonic growl that rumbled through Soshiro's frame in response was downright primordial in its blatant aggression. Before you could so much as hitch in another pointed inhalation, he was suddenly looming over you like a tsunami of leashed brute strength and simmering danger.

Powerful hands whipped out to bracket your upper arms, fingers digging into the lean cords of muscle with just enough force to raise a scattering of pinprick tingles across your hyper-aware nerves. You instinctively craned your neck to maintain eye contact, refusing to be cowed by Soshiro overwhelming your personal space so completely.

His chest expanded with a deep inhalation, the steady rise and fall of that broad, hair-roughened expanse practically hypnotic this close. When Soshiro finally spoke, each precisely enunciated word seemed to reverberate straight through your very marrow with tangible menace.

"Don't play dumb, sweetheart," he rumbled in that same tone of deadly, ominous calm somehow more chilling than any shouted epithet could ever be. "Should know better than to try handlin' me with that pretty pouty act by now..."

"Alright, enough with the thinly veiled threats, Soshiro," you snapped, finally allowing your own temper to flare in the face of his brooding menace. "If you've got something to say, then spit it out already."

His eyes flashed with something darker at your blunt challenge, fingers tightening fractionally on your arms. "Ya really wanna go there, baby?" Soshiro practically purred, upper lip curling in a hint of a sneer. "Fine. The off-books recon op your platoon ran yesterday without clearin' it through the proper chains first. Ring any goddamn bells?"

You felt your own jaw tighten as you fought the instinctive urge to look away guiltily. So that was the root of his pissy mood - the intel-gathering mission you'd deemed necessary despite lacking official authorization.

"It was a prime opportunity that required swift action," you countered, struggling to keep your tone even and professional despite the clear fury simmering behind Soshiro's stare. "We got the intel, didn't we? I'd say the results justified—"

"Don't even try justifyin' that bullshit to me," Soshiro snarled, deep timbre pitching even lower and more ominous as his grasp morphed from restraining into something far more purposefully bruising. "Ya went cowboy, leading yer whole squad into an unsanctioned op without backup or oversight!"

Anger sparked bright and hot in your core at having your capabilities and decisions questioned so bluntly, so publicly. Who the hell did Soshiro think he was to dress you down like some disobedient child rather than a respected platoon leader?

"I am more than capable of assessing potential threats to my team, Vice Captain," you bit out, not even trying to mask the distill that saturated his title. You leaned into Soshiro's restraining grip rather than pull away, unwilling to show even an iota of weakness or retreat. "Perhaps if you spent more time actually supporting our efforts rather than lounging around base, you'd see—"

The words cut off in a breathless huff as Soshiro bodily hauled you closer, eliminating what little distance still separated your bristling frames down to mere ionized inches. His free hand whipped up to fist in your hair, wrenching your head back at a sharp angle that robbed your next words of any scathing barb before they could slur free.

"Don't you dare imply I don't have yer back in the field," Soshiro growled, the words seeming to thrum directly into your feverish skin as your gazes locked and held. Pupils blown wide into yawning chasms swallowed up nearly all traces of amethyst, leaving nothing but pools of opalescent darkness consuming his features. "Ya know damn well that's never been the issue, baby."

Something darker and far more insidious than mere confrontation seemed to bleed into his gaze, tempering the naked fury until it scorched like smoldering coals banked and awaiting the right spark to detonate fully. One side of Soshiro's lips peeled back in a hint of an utterly failed attempt at a smile — something feral and cold and utterly devoid of humor.

"No, the real issue here is yer single-minded self-importance and blatant disrespect for the chain of command," he rumbled in a tone of quiet, inescapable certainty. "Yer stubborn refusal to recognize the bigger picture beyond yer own glory-seekin' antics, consequences be damned..."

You opened your mouth on a vehement denial, every fiber of your being thrumming like a livewire at his unflinching accusations. But Soshiro allowed no quarter or deflection, not a single millimeter of mercy. Shifting his weight minutely, he rolled his hips forward to trap yours in an unforgiving vise of solid, unyielding strength.

"I'm done makin' excuses or turning a blind eye every time ya blatantly disregard established protocols just because ya think ya know better or yer pride's been wounded," he growled, words seeming to sear in an unstoppable cadence. "Tonight, we're going to settle this power struggle once and for all, Platoon Leader..."

His free hand fisted tighter in your hair, making you grit your teeth against the stinging pull and tightening your jaw mulishly. Who the hell did he think he was talking to you like some disobedient child?

You bristled at the clear undercurrent of challenge and threat woven through his tone, refusal to back down flaring bright and hot in your veins. "You don't get to dictate anything to me, Vice Captain," you bit out through a tightly clenched jaw, relishing in stabbing him with his own title right back.

"I don't give a fuck about bruised protocol or your oversized ego — we got the intel that could save thousands of civilian lives, and you're pitching a fit over chain of command? You weren’t even here for the past week." You shook your head slowly, allowing your lips to curve into a sneer of derision that you knew would prick at his notoriously thin skin.

"I didn't realize playing by the rules was more important to Hoshina Soshiro than actually accomplishing the mission," you drawled with heavy sarcasm, feeling a flare of vicious satisfaction as his eyes seemed to swell even darker with unbridled fury.

His jawline flexed sharply as he visibly ground his teeth, tendons standing out in harsh definition beneath the stubbled hinge. For a long moment, the air between you seemed to thicken into a smothering fog laced with static and the acidic taste of pure restrained violence.

Then Soshiro began slowly shaking his head in a subtle negation, the tattered threads of his control audibly shredding apart under the strain. When he finally spoke, the words emerged in a gravelly rasp that seemed to bypass your eardrums entirely and reverberate straight into your very bones instead:

"Ya just don't get it, do ya, sweetheart?" He sneered the affectionate nickname with an acidic twist of mockery, the sound of it slicing through your defenses to draw an instinctive flinch.

"This goes so far beyond yer meaningless authority trips or whatever bullshit glory ya think getting some scrap of half-baked intel means in the grand scheme," Soshiro snarled, leaning in until you could taste the earthy, masculine tang of his anger on each raggedly exhaled word.

"What ya clearly fail to comprehend is that yer stubborn selfishness nearly got every last member of your platoon — your people — killed chasin' some suicidal lapse in judgment." His words were measured yet potent, viciously clinical in their precision and impact.

You felt your eyes widen involuntarily at the blunt accusation, mouth opening to spit some scathing retort and defend your proven capabilities as field commander. But Soshiro barreled on in a tone of thunderous judgment, allowing no room for interruption or deflection.

"You're so caught up in yer own goddamn hubris, always convinced you've got the angles figured out, prepared for everythin'..." His laugh was about as far from humorous as could be imagined — a harsh, barking bark of wry disdain that dripped acid. "Did it ever cross that thick skull exactly how I'd feel getting the call about a squad of glassed corpses thanks to some insubordinate asshole's solo glory play?"

His words sliced straight through to your core, searing their bitter truth across every nerve. Still, you couldn't quite bite back the wounded denial that burst free:

"We made it back clean, no casualties! Your concerns are total unfounded bullshit, Soshiro!"

But that only seemed to be the spark that detonated his final, fraying reserves of patience.

Soshiro moved with liquid grace and unanticipated speed, finally releasing his hold only to redirect his hands in blurring arcs that allowed no counter or evasion. One second you were straining against his restraints, mouth open on another heated rejoinder — the next, you'd been twisted and slammed back against the nearest bulkhead with brutal, jarring force.

The air punched free from your lungs in an explosive gust, leaving you gaping in mute shock at the speed of his assault. Soshiro loomed over you now, forearm braced across your chest in an unbreakable bar of corded muscle and virile strength, one thigh shoved between your splayed ones to lock you in a helpless full-body cage.

"Ya fucking insolent, arrogant brat," he hissed through gritted teeth, trembling with the sheer force of his restrained fury. You could feel every rapacious inhale, every shudder vibrating through him as he struggled to restrain the final dregs of control. "I don't give a damn that ya got lucky, sweetheart..."

Soshiro leaned in closer, eliminating the final precious slivers of personal space until his nose nearly brushed your own, until all that filled your addled senses was the overwhelming musk of his anger surrounding you, consuming you utterly.

"I'm gonna ensure yer willful idiocy never jeopardizes what's mine again," he growled in a tone edged with lethal promise, eyes locked with yours in a final duel of wills. "Startin' by reminding ya exactly who calls the shots around here."

The threat hung heavy between you, tension so thick you could practically choke on it. Your hands were balled into fists, nails digging crescents into your palms with how hard you were clenching them. The urge to lash out, to throw one final barbed insult was almost overwhelming, consequences be damned.

So you gave in, any rational thought consumed by the raging wildfire of anger and adrenaline blazing through your veins. "Fuck you," you spat, putting every ounce of venom and derision you could muster behind the two simple words.

That was it - the final straw that severed his taut grip on control. You saw it in the way his pupils blew wide, swallowing up those blazing crimson irises in a yawning void of heated fury. A harsh breath hissed out between his gritted teeth as his body went taut like a bowstring pulled to its maximum tension.

Then with a feral growl that reverberated straight to your bones, Soshiro surged forward and crashed his mouth against yours in a searing, branding kiss. But it wasn't gentle or tender — no, this was all pent-up aggression and unleashed hunger given free rein.

His teeth nipped at your lips with stinging force, drawing a sharp gasp that his questing tongue instantly occupied. You gave as good as you got, hands fisting in the front of his uniform to yank him closer as you bit at his lower lip hard enough to draw copper on your tongue.

Soshiro's growl transformed into something darker, richer, as your wrestling rapidly devolved into a primal give and take of dominance. Whenever he tried to slant his mouth and deepen the frenzied kiss, you'd buck your hips against his solid weight to throw him off-balance again.

His big hands were everywhere—tangling in your hair to angle your head, skimming over your waist and the flare of your hips, squeezing with possessive force. You could barely draw breath between the slick slide of your joined mouths, harsh pants and lewd smacks mingling in the supercharged air.

This was rawer, messier and infinitely more satisfying than any carefully orchestrated seduction could be. No, this was desire stripped down to its most base, primal core — all pretense and propriety discarded like tattered rags in the wake of you both finally giving in.

When you finally wrenched your mouth free with a gasp, Soshiro's eyes were heavy-lidded and glazed with naked hunger. His lips were reddened and spit-slick, hair awry where your hands had fisted through the strands.

"Ya try that stubborn martyr bullshit one more time, sweetheart," he rasped in that low, gravel-rough tone that never failed to make you shiver. "And next time I won't be playin' so nice..."

Those last three words were practically rolled across his tongue with how much dark, molten promise they contained. You felt a fresh spark of fiery arousal flare brighter at the implicit threat, chest heaving as your lips curved in a smirk of defiant invitation.

"Is that so?" you all but purred, dragging your nails down over the slope of his shoulders deliberately. "I'd pay to see you try keeping that in check..."

The only answer was Soshiro's low, rumbling chuckle as he swooped back in to seal your taunting lips in another searing, messy clash of tongues and teeth and relentless, glorious hunger.

Soshiro didn't waste any more time with words. With a low snarl vibrating against your swollen lips, he banded one powerful arm around your waist and simply lifted, hauling you up against his solid weight effortlessly.

You gasped at the sudden movement, legs instinctively winding around his hips as he pinned you against the nearest bulkhead. Soshiro took full advantage, angling his hips to grind against your clothed pussy with delicious friction that had you keening softly into the heated cavern of his mouth.

"Still runnin' that smart mouth, baby?" he rumbled after dragging his lips away, leaving a hot trail of nipping kisses along the thrumming pulse at your throat. "Need to learn to show some fuckin' respect..."

With that, Soshiro spun on his heel and began forcibly carting you down the corridor like a rutting beast claiming its prize. You didn't bother stifling your breathless laughter at his caveman antics, fingers tunneling through his sweat-dampened hair to yank his head back.

"Put me down this instant, you arrogant, over-muscled—"

The rest of your taunt dissolved into a startled squeak as Soshiro abruptly pivoted and slammed you back-first against the nearest surface. The wind rushed from your lungs in an explosive gust, leaving you blinking stupidly as you refocused on his blazing glare mere inches away.

"You were saying, Platoon Leader?" The way Soshiro all but spat out your title was blatantly mocking. His palm pressed insistently against your sternum as he slowly leaned in, each rasping inhalation gusting across your tingling lips. "Pretty sure it was somethin' about respectin' yer superiors..."

You opened your mouth to fire back a scathing retort, but Soshiro's free hand whipped up to fist in your hair, wrenching your head back at a sharp angle as he sealed his lips over your parted ones in a scorching brand of possession. Any words dissolved into desperate, needy whimpers against the molten slide of his tongue claiming every inch as undisputed territory.

When he finally tore away with a rasping groan, you were left trembling and light-headed from the sheer intensity of it all. Soshiro's lips curved in a slow, predatory slash of dark promise as his free hand skimmed down your side to palm over the curve of your hip with shameless appreciation.

"That's better..." he rumbled in that sinful baritone utterly saturated with sin and naked masculine satisfaction. "Think I prefer having that pretty mouth occupied with better uses for now."

His fingers squeezed purposefully against your flesh in emphasis. You couldn't quite stifle the tiny mewl of purely visceral need that slipped free at the subtle dominance play.

Soshiro tsked softly, somehow managing to layer the simple sound with undisguised derision. "So fuckin' needy, aren't ya baby? Don't worry..."

With that, he ducked his head to rasp the words directly against the heated hollow beneath your ear, sending a cascading shudder of expectant tingles across your hyper-aware nerves.

"I'm gonna take such good care of puttin' that greedy little mouth to proper use once we're somewhere more... private."

The heavy pause and emphasis he placed on that final word resonated straight to your pussy in a thrumming promise-slash-threat. You couldn't even formulate a response before Soshiro's mouth was crashing down over yours once more in a searing, breathtaking conflagration.

This time there was no struggle, no battle for dominance beyond your complete, unconditional surrender. You simply clung to Soshiro with a breathy mewl as he backed you through a doorway, devouring every pleased rumble and husky groan passing between your joined mouths with utter desperation. You caught brief glimpses of passing officers gaping at their Vice Captain brazenly manhandling his girlfriend, but the heat searing through your veins made you utterly uncaring of any scandalized looks.

Something solid bumped against the back of your thighs, not that it slowed Soshiro's relentless advance in the slightest. He simply lifted and deposited you on the awaiting surface without ever breaking the heated exchange.

Then his hands were roaming with purposeful possession — carding through your hair to angle your head for deeper plundering, skimming over the swell of your breasts with sublime friction, palming along the flare of your hipbones to hitch you closer to the edge. You gasped when his questing fingers trailed across the taut fabric straining over your nipples, hips bucking instinctively as his fingertips tweaked and rolled the sensitive buds through the clinging material.

You finally managed to wrench your mouth free with a ragged gasp, struggling to draw a steadying breath. But Soshiro seemed to take that as a challenge, immediately dropping his attention to your throat instead. He latched on to the wildly thrumming pulse point at the curve of your shoulder, his fangs piercing your skin with just enough force to leave a perfect ring of marks.

You couldn't stifle the needy whimper that slipped free at the exquisite combination of pleasure-pain. Soshiro's responding growl sent fresh sparks of tingling heat straight to your aching core, making your hips roll instinctively against the rock-hard bulge of his cock straining his pants.

"You have no fucking clue what that stubborn attitude does to me," he groaned, sounding utterly wrecked already. Soshiro's hips surged against yours with a rough, uncontrolled snap. "No goddamn idea how hard I get hearin' ya mouth off, so fuckin' confident and bratty, like no one could ever dare lay a finger on ya..."

He punctuated the words with a sharp nip at the hinge of your jaw, then a teasing tug on the lobe of your ear. You felt the heat of his smile curve against the heated column of your throat, the bastard.

"Ya like being such a spoiled princess, huh?" Soshiro all but purred, his tone edged with that familiar hint of mocking arrogance that never failed to make your pussy clench in anticipation. "Always gettin' what ya want, how ya want it..."

Before you could even begin formulating a retort, Soshiro had wrenched away and was yanking the zipper down on his pants. You felt your mouth go dry at the sight of his thick, straining cock jutting out proudly from the vee of his open uniform, tip glistening with pearlescent beads of precum.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips on instinct, and Soshiro's eyes darkened further at the action. His voice emerged in a husky rasp, the sound so deliciously filthy you felt it like a tangible stroke across your skin.

"Well, not this time. I’m about to make good on all those promises to fuck some respect into ya, sweetheart. So go on - open that smart mouth and suck my cock."

His tone was pure sin, dripping with dark promise and filthy intent. You felt your entire body flush with molten arousal, pussy clenching as he fisted a hand in your hair and tugged firmly, hauling you off the desk to kneel at his feet.

"Soshiro, I swear to god, if you think I'm gonna—"

But the rest of your protests died on a strangled gasp as Soshiro all but slapped the heavy length of his cock against your parted lips. The tang of his salty essence flooded your tastebuds, making your mouth water as he gave a shallow roll of his hips and smeared a streak of precum along your cheek.

"Ya can drop the act now, baby," he bit out, voice low and gravelly with raw desire. Soshiro's crimson eyes were nearly eclipsed by the sheer force of his hunger, a muscle ticking along his clenched jawline. "We both know how much of a cockslut you are - ya don’t gotta pretend like you're not dyin' to have this cock stretchin' yer pretty little throat?"

His words sent another surge of arousal through your veins, a rush of liquid heat pooling in your core and leaking from your pussy to stain your panties. You couldn't deny the way your heart stuttered at the way he was looking down at you, the sheer intensity of his gaze searing straight to your soul.

"So go ahead and admit it," he practically growled, giving your hair a yank and thrusting his hips forward to slide his cockhead across your cheek in a humiliatingly obscene display. "You’re nothing but a selfish brat, always needing something to fill up that smart mouth..."

His other hand fisted tighter in the roots, forcing your head back further until your eyes watered and throat worked reflexively. You couldn't suppress the tiny gasp that slipped free at the rough treatment, making his cock twitch against your parted lips in a silent demand.

"Say it, slut," Soshiro ground out, eyes narrowing in warning as they bored into yours. "Ya can’t fool me. Not after I’ve seen exactly how well that pretty little mouth takes my cock..."

The memory of all the times he'd fucked your mouth, the way he'd ruthlessly pinned you down and pumped his cock deep in your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks and you coughed and gasped for air flashed behind your eyes. Just the recollection of how he'd made you choke on his cum was enough to have your thighs clenching instinctively, pussy growing even slicker with each filthy demand.

"Go on, say it." His tone dropped lower, rougher with a hint of warning. "Ya can either do it now, or I'll fuck that disobedient attitude right out of ya the hard way."

With that, Soshiro hauled you up by his grip on your hair until his cockhead bumped against your lips once more, eyes narrowing. A thrill of mingled arousal and trepidation sparked through your veins, sending a rush of molten need straight to your clenching core.

But still, you forced yourself to lift your chin in stubborn defiance, glaring up at him with all the force of your ire.

"Go to hell," you spat with venomous disdain.

You were barely able to smirk in victory before you felt his fingers wrench your jaw open, the sudden movement sending a spike of pain-edged pleasure down your spine. Then Soshiro was slamming his cock between your lips, the force of it nearly choking you with how sudden and brutal the action was.

"That's what I thought," he muttered, but his tone was far from annoyed. If anything, the gravel-rough rasp was laced with a heavy undercurrent of satisfaction and pure, undisguised hunger.

You blinked back the haze of unshed tears as he shoved deeper, not pausing until the swollen tip was nudging the back of your throat and your nose was pressed against the neatly trimmed hairs at the base. Only then did he finally allow himself a ragged groan of pleasure, the sound nearly a sigh of pure relief.

"Ya know, baby, you look so much better like this," he taunted, rolling his hips to slide his cock a fraction deeper before retreating in a slick glide that had you swallowing back a moan. "When you're finally doing what you're best at - taking my cock and shuttin' that smart mouth up..."

Soshiro punctuated his statement by thrusting in again, not pausing as his fingers twisted cruelly in the roots. He kept his pace slow and shallow at first, clearly savoring the way you were struggling to suck him off and breathe around the thick length filling your throat.

He held you there until your vision began to blur and a whine built in the back of your throat, then finally allowed you to suck in a ragged gasp as he drew back. His cockhead was a deep, glistening purple, slick with spit and precum.

You opened your mouth to snark back, but the words died on a breathy gasp as Soshiro fisted his hand in your hair and yanked your head back sharply. A low, husky chuckle rumbled from his chest as he slowly dragged the swollen head along the seam of your lips, his eyes locked with yours.

"So pretty when you cry," he purred, swiping his cock over your lower lip. You couldn't quite stifle the tiny mewl of desperate arousal the action drew, which only seemed to amuse Soshiro even further.

"I could watch ya suck my cock for hours," he mused, eyes flashing darkly as he dragged his free hand over his cock and smeared the precum pooling at the tip across your lips. "But maybe… I'd rather finish in that greedy little pussy, instead..."

Soshiro didn't bother waiting for your reaction, merely tightened his grip on your hair and hauled you up until your legs buckled and you stumbled onto the desk behind you. He crowded in, pushing your thighs wide apart with his own before his hands slid down to yank your uniform down your hips.

You didn't have a chance to even process the fact that he'd stripped you naked in mere seconds, leaving you clad in nothing but the sweat-dampened tank top you wore beneath the uniform. Your mouth went dry as his hands dropped lower, spreading your pussy apart with calloused fingers before ducking his head and pressing his lips against the soaked folds.

"My girl's so ready for my cock, huh?" he purred, the sound almost drowned out by the obscene slurping noise that sounded as his tongue delved into your dripping cunt. You couldn't hold back the whimper of pleasure that escaped at the sensation, and Soshiro responded with a low chuckle.

"Such a sloppy little cunt," he taunted, nipping at the swollen clit until you keened desperately. "All this slick leaking out of you, baby, and I haven't even put a finger inside."

You flushed hotly at the blatant degradation, unable to bite back the instinctive gasp of embarrassment and pleasure. But Soshiro seemed intent on driving the humiliation home, teeth latching onto your clit and sucking hard until you couldn't help bucking against his mouth, desperate for more.

"Fuck," you groaned, tossing your head back as the tension began winding tighter in your core, threatening to snap at any second. "Soshiro, please, I need—"

He pulled back abruptly, the abrupt loss of friction wrenching a strangled whine from the back of your throat. It took all your willpower to peel your eyes open and meet his gaze, and when you did, you felt your core clench at the blatant heat that burned in his gaze.

"Ya think ya deserve my cock after the stunt you pulled today?" he drawled, one eyebrow quirking upward mockingly. "Ya nearly got every member of your squad killed, and yer still so damn cocky about it all. Think ya deserve anything beyond the tip of my finger?"

Soshiro punctuated the question with a single digit, sliding it through your slick folds and teasing it over your hole until you were panting and rolling your hips, desperate for more. "Luckily for you , though, I'm not here to teach you a lesson, baby. No..."

He trailed off as he slowly slid his finger inside, eyes darkening as he watched the way you arched against the desk with a needy whine. He crooked the digit, teasing against your most sensitive spot until your hips bucked and pussy clenched tight, chasing the release he'd so cruelly denied.

"I'm here to fuck some respect into ya."

Soshiro pulled back just as abruptly, and the frustrated cry that left your lips was downright embarrassing. But then his hands were tearing at his uniform, yanking the shirt open and shrugging the material aside until his gorgeous chest was on full display, rippling with each huffing breath.

You watched in mute awe, feeling your pulse skyrocket and pussy clench around the sudden emptiness as he shoved his pants down to pool around his ankles, kicking the clothing aside. He fisted a hand around his cock and tugged, groaning raggedly at the contact.

"I haven’t felt that tight cunt in weeks," he growled, his free hand landing on the table beside your hip with a thud. "Been jerkin' off every night to the memory of this pussy squeezing my cock, but nothing's gonna compare to the real thing..."

He surged forward and sealed his lips over yours in a brutal kiss, swallowing the breathless cry as he lined the fat head up against your entrance and snapped his hips forward. The stretch was delicious, and you couldn't help moaning into his mouth as he bottomed out.

"That's better," Soshiro groaned, breaking away just far enough to speak against your lips. "So much better than my goddamn fist, fuckin' finally..."

He didn't waste any time, pulling back and thrusting in again in a punishing rhythm that had you seeing stars. There was no time for adjustment, no chance to savor the initial feeling of having him buried to the hilt. Instead, Soshiro set a relentless pace, hips pistoning back and forth in a series of deep, measured thrusts.

He broke away from your mouth, and you gasped for breath as his lips blazed a trail down the column of your throat. Soshiro's hands were everywhere, stroking and squeezing and groping at every inch of your body as he fucked you without abandon.

"You’re droolin' all over my cock, sweetheart," he taunted, teeth scraping at the hinge of your jaw. "Bet ya pulled that stunt just to get my attention, huh?"

His voice was a low growl against your throat, lips curving into a smirk against your skin. "Didn't realize ya were so desperate for me, baby..."

"No," you gasped, trying desperately to cling to some semblance of control, some way to regain the upper hand. "I didn't even know you were coming—"

"That's a fuckin' lie," Soshiro spat, snapping his hips harder. His pace was relentless, the thick girth of his cock filling you perfectly with each punishing stroke. "Ya knew I was due back today, knew I'd have no choice but to deal with yer bratty ass myself, and ya pulled that bullshit on purpose..."

He punctuated his point with a particularly sharp thrust, making your breath hitch. Soshiro didn't pause, didn't let you catch a break. He was fucking you into the desk like an animal, and the worst part was — it was working.

"I'm done letting ya pull this shit," he snarled, teeth biting into the slope of your shoulder. The sharp flare of pain sent a fresh surge of liquid heat pulsing from your core. "I'm done letting ya risk your neck every goddamn mission, not knowing if yer gonna come home or wind up in a fuckin' body bag."

His hand landed on your thigh and shoved it wider, the new angle allowing him to sink impossibly deeper. You couldn't choke back the needy moan at the new sensations, the way the heavy slap of his balls against your ass mingled with the lewd squelching noises of his cock slamming into your soaked pussy.

"You became mine the day ya kissed me back," Soshiro ground out, his words a low growl that made your blood run molten in your veins. "And if ya can't keep yourself in line, sweetheart, I'll make sure yer too busy suckin' my cock to go anywhere near the fuckin' field."

His hand tangled in the roots of your hair, twisting to wrench your head back and bare your throat in a helpless arc. Soshiro's fangs descended, the tips digging into the soft flesh beneath your ear as he growled directly against the shell.

"Gonna knock you up if I have to."

You gasped at the filthy words, but they only served to heighten the building sensations. You felt your pussy fluttering around his cock as his hips slapped against yours, his pace growing more uncoordinated as his own peak drew nearer.

"Maybe then ya'll understand exactly why I want to keep you safe, baby." His words were a rasp against your neck, his lips blazing a trail of molten heat against your skin. "Why I can't stand the thought of losing ya, no matter how damn reckless ya are. You're the most stubborn, arrogant, selfish woman I've ever met..."

His free hand dipped between your bodies, teasing along the taut expanse of your belly until it came to rest on your hip. Then he leaned forward, putting his entire weight behind the next thrust, and you cried out as he hit a spot that had sparks dancing behind your eyelids.

"You're also the best — ngh — goddamn thing that's ever happened to me," he finished with a groan, and you were so shocked by the unexpected confession you didn't even have a chance to reply before he was crashing his lips over yours again, stealing your breath and any coherent thoughts along with it.

The next few thrusts had the tension in your core coiling tighter, tighter, until you were practically thrashing against the desk, pinned in place by the force of his strength and the solid weight of his cock stretching your pussy wide. You were close, so fucking close, but Soshiro didn't seem to be showing any signs of slowing down.

In fact, he only seemed to be fucking you harder, with sharper thrusts that were rapidly pushing you toward the edge. You clung to his shoulders, nails biting into the tanned flesh as you whimpered and writhed and struggled to maintain even the slightest scrap of self-control.

"C'mon, baby," he purred, his mouth trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the arch of your neck. "I wanna feel that cunt milking my cock, sweetheart... Wanna feel ya gush all over my cock while I'm pumping ya full, just like I promised..."

It was too much, his words and the delicious drag of his cock stroking every sensitive nerve ending inside you. You couldn't bite back the sob that slipped free, couldn't hold out any longer as the coil wound to its breaking point.

"Please," you begged, voice cracking and breaking as the sensations overwhelmed you utterly. "Oh god, Soshiro, please, I'm—"

The rest dissolved into a ragged cry as the tension finally snapped, sending you plummeting over the edge. The orgasm hit you like a wave, flooding through your veins with a rush of searing heat as you shuddered and arched against his chest, spraying his cock with a gush of slick as he fucked you right through the pleasure.

"That’s my girl."

You felt Soshiro's groan reverberate against your lips as he thrust once, twice, three more times. Then his hips slammed forward, pinning you flat against the desk as he bottomed out and came with a hoarse, ragged shout of completion.

His cum spurted against your womb in a rush of hot liquid, filling your pussy so full it leaked out around the straining thickness of his cock. You felt yourself clench and pulse around the sensation, riding the aftershocks of your own peak.

Soshiro finally sagged above you, forehead dropping against your collarbone as he panted for breath. You blinked dazedly, struggling to clear the stars still flashing across your vision.

The two of you remained locked together, unmoving save for the erratic rise and fall of your chests. Gradually, you became aware of Soshiro's fingers carding through your hair, smoothing the sweat-damp strands back from your temple as he pressed a trail of soft, gentle kisses along the slope of your shoulder.

When you finally regained enough energy to lift your head, Soshiro was already waiting, leaning in to press a kiss to your mouth that was achingly tender. It was such a sharp contrast to the way he'd manhandled and fucked you mere minutes ago, and the juxtaposition of it all was almost enough to make you dizzy.

You felt him hook an arm around your shoulder to gently ease you upright, keeping his other arm braced against the desk for balance. The two of you were a complete mess, clothes torn and sweat-soaked, and his cock was still half-hard inside you.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

His tone was low, rough, and so, so tender you felt your heart constrict at the sound. Soshiro's expression was soft, almost vulnerable, and he didn't hesitate to cup your jaw and press a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips.

"I mean, besides the obvious." He gave a slight roll of his hips, making you gasp as his cock twitched and pulsed inside your overstimulated pussy. Soshiro chuckled, the sound edged with dark promise.

"I meant what I said earlier," he added, his tone serious as he met your eyes once more. "I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life than when I heard what happened, and that was before I realized what a stupid, selfish little brat I have for a girlfriend."

Your mouth dropped open, and Soshiro immediately seized the opportunity, claiming your lips in a searing kiss. When he finally pulled back, you couldn't stop the small whine that escaped, and his eyes glittered with mischief and pure masculine satisfaction.

"We're gonna be having another conversation about your behavior, though," he continued, his voice dipping lower as his eyes darkened further. "Preferably with a paddle and my belt around your neck. But for now..."

He pulled back, slipping his softening cock from your abused cunt and drawing a whine of disappointment at the loss. Before you could protest, Soshiro was scooping you into his arms and turning to carry you across the room.

"For now," he murmured, pressing his lips to the crown of your head in a soft kiss, "Let's just get ya cleaned up and tucked into bed. And then..."

He glanced down, the look in his eyes making you shiver in anticipation.

"And then I’ll be waking you up in the morning the way I know you love best."

#this ain’t proofread yet #kaiju 8 x reader smut #kaiju 8 smut #kaiju 8 x reader #kaijuu no. 8 x reader #kaijuu no. 8 #kaijuu 8 #kaijuu 8 gou #hoshina smut #hoshina x reader smut #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro smut #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #hoshina x reader #soshiro x reader smut #soshiro smut #soshiro x reader

808 notes · View notes

lookingformoondrop · 9 months ago

Note

Yan!Andrew with his Reader who found out she's pregnant? Spoiler: She didn't want to have children.

Yan!Andrew Graves x Preg!Reader

TW: Unexpected pregnancy, hints at abortion, reader in captivity, manipulation, yandere Andrew, unwanted pregnancy

♡ Notes: I wrote this entire thing while on a train so you'll probably find a wild typo or error font somewhere here. I said in my last post that my next work would be a fluffy one, I lied. Sorry. Remember kids, practice safe sex, and dont act like Andy. Thank you so much for supporting me, anon! I appreciate all the requests and asks from you guys. <33

Andrew hummed as he removed his shoes and took off his coat.

Work was a drag, his boss was a dick, and his family was unbearable. But despite it all, he had you at the end of the day.

When he came home, he'd always hear your padded footsteps coming down the hall to greet him.

You'd wear one of his shirts or wear a cute outfit he'd pick out for you, all to make him happy.

He just loves you so much.

I mean, that's why he took you in the first place.

You had no idea who he was, only that he was a customer that came at odd times of the day in the cafe where you worked.

He could only guess how poor the pay must've been. How miserable you were... Yes, that's it.

As he watched you, he could spot the circles under your eyes, and he knew instantly that fate had brought you here, or maybe it was a cult summoning? Either way, you belonged with him. And he would bend heaven and earth to keep it that way.

Andrew blinked away his train of thought and looked up. He hadn't heard your footsteps.

That was unusual.

Andrew quickly slipped his bag to the ground and walked further into the house.

The kitchen was empty, minus the dishes and pots from last night's dinner that still remained untouched in the sink.

The living room was empty, minus the tissues scattered all over the floor, and the blankets that pooled the floor.

With his heart racing, he sprinted to the last room he hadn't checked. The bedroom.

He pushed the door open with haste; his eyes wildly searched the room.

The bed was unmade, and the sheets were shoved off the mattress, trailing onto the wooden floor.

As Andrew stepped further into the bedroom and he could hear the sound of the shower, and small sniffles coming from inside.

Andrew let out a sigh of relief, you hadn't left. You were still home with him. But now he had another problem to deal with.

He knocked on the bathroom door and heard a quick shuffle from the other side. The water turned off and Andrew flinched at the sound of objects crashing.

Then out you came, your eyes were red and your hair was messy, as if your fingers ran through them constantly.

You mustered a smile for Andrew, muttering out a weak 'welcome home' before Andrew grabbed your arms for inspection.

"What happened? What were you doing? Why were you crying?" He craned his neck out to try and look inside the bathroom, but you quickly closed the door.

"I was about to take a shower when you came home so uh, I dropped some bath products when I realized I hadn't greeted you." It was a horrible lie, really. You knew lying was one of Andrew's biggest pet peeves, even if he lied consistently himself.

"My little lamb, you're not making a lot of sense right now..." Andrew tried giving you a sweet smile, but the vein twitching in his forehead told you how he really felt.

His grip on your arms became tighter, and he leaned in closer, "I would like to know what you're keeping from me, please."

"I... I was crying," you cringed at how weak your voice sounded.

"Clearly, what else? Don't stall for time you don't have Y/N. Tell me who hurt you, I don't fucking care for the reason."

You peeled Andrew's hands off of you which was surprising giving his intense tone. You slowly walked to the bed and sat down, tracing the thread that was imbedded in your mattress. Your eyes lingered on the white sheets for a second too long.

Andrew followed suit, instead opting to go on his knees in front of you as to hold your hands.

He traced his name on your wrists with his finger and hummed a low tune, unremarkable at best, but it calmed your nerves.

"You are my bleeding heart, Y/N. Everything you feel, I long to taste, everything you love, I devour, and every secret you keep from me I savagely rip apart to find. What could you possibly keep from me, that I wouldn't find out in under a day?"

You kept still, refusing to meet Andrew's gaze.

"You have to promise you won't.. um, get mad." You chewed on your lip as you thought about your next words. The lump in your throat grew harder to swallow the more you thought about it.

How were you supposed to deliever such... news, when that news made you want to rip your hair out from stress.

"yeah, I promise. My little lamb, tell me, what is wrong?"

"I'm scared, Andrew." You looked up.

"Scared?" Answered Andrew, who let go of your wrists to instead settle around your waist.

He continued, "What could you possibly have to fear while with me? Are you afraid of someone?"

You shook your head, "no, well maybe, not yet I-" You took deep breaths, your chest felt like it was going to crack from the pressure.

"Not yet? What does that even mean?" Andrew furrowed his eyebrows and scrunched his nose, trying to make sense of it all.

"Andrew, do you know what day of the month it is?"

Andy groaned; his patience was begging to grow thin. "Y/N, I'm done playing this game with you. Are you trying to provoke me to extreme measures or something?"

"No! Just... answer the question. What day of the month is it?"

Andrew shrugged, "It's the first of the month. It's my mom's birthday. It's trash day. It's Monday. I don't fucking know what this has to do with our conversation, Y/N!?"

"No Andrew, just listen to me! Look, I usually get my period on the first of every month. But last month I didn't get my period."

"So?" Andrew looked at you with annoyance in his features.

"So.... I should have gotten my period last month, but I didn't. I'm not an irregular person and I've been here awhile so..."

Andrew's features stayed scrunched with confusion and annoyance as the words mulled over in his head.

Then it hit him.

Andrew fell back on his butt in shock, staring at you, your belly, and then back to you. The realization so big that his brain stopped the train to language station.

"You're pregnant?" He muttered.

You nodded, the tears that danced on your waterline finally falling. Your chest shook, and you gasped deep breaths, the pressure you had on your chest this morning, becoming ten-fold the weight as Andrew processed this information.

Your head hung low as the sobs shook your ribcage.

Without realizing it, Andrew got back up and sat beside you on the bed.

Wrapping his arms around your head and body, so that your body pushed against his chest.

A gigantic smile placed itself on his face, every bad thing that happened up until that point dispearred in a cloud. The only thing he could think about was the baby you were growing.

His baby.

Finally, Andrew let you go and grabbed your face, lifting it up so that he could place gentle kisses on your forehead. "My Y/N, thank you. This... fuck, I thought you were going to say something horrible, but this? Shit, this is the best news I could have ever heard, well maybe besides news of my sister's death or imprisonment but shit this is even better!"

His kisses became harder and more passionate. But he hadn't noticed the soul that had left your body. Instead, you looked at him terrified.

"But... Andrew, I'm not ready for this. I- I don't even think I'm old enough to be raising children, let alone birth one. This thing could rip me apart." Your breathing became quicker, the pressure on your chest becoming an unbearable pain.

You were so sure that Andrew would hate the idea of children, that he would have the initiative to take this thing out of you, but he was so happy, so much so he couldn't be bothered to notice your despair.

"Doesn't matter. You need to stop worrying about things that haven't even happened yet. You're pregnant, and that's all that matters. You're pregnant with my baby, and you will live through every moment." His smile never faltered as he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, humming a sweeter tune this time and rubbing your tummy.

"I'm not ready," you cried, shaking your head profusely.

Andrew looked up with a smile, trailing his forefinger down the bridge of your nose.

"Doesn't matter."

You held onto Andrew's hands as he leaned forward and embraced you. Sighing deeply into your chest.

"I love our little family. Don't you?"

Thank you for the ask!<3

#the coffin of andy and leyley #x reader #andrew graves #andy graves #y/n #andrew graves x reader #andy graves x reader #headcanons #tw pregnancy #tw yandere #yandere x reader #toxic relationship #not proofread #dark content

636 notes · View notes

marshmallow-biscuit-blog · 11 months ago

Text

"unexpected" mega post

combining all the panels of this comic I made, so the style changes quite a bit. Posting them all on one post because of the people who sent me the asks before :\

there's missing panels, but Tea comes home from the doctor and asks why the kids look so guilty and nervous.

I want to continue it. but. we'll see. Also depends if anyone even bats an eye at this post so.

#the cuphead show #kitchen utensil family #the kitchen utensil family #tea kettler #joe java #siphi kettler java #unexpected #comic #cuphead #cuphead and mugman's parents #pregnant #pregnancy #tw pregnant #tw pregnancy #holly kettler java #cuphead kettler java #mugman kettler java

30 notes · View notes

amethystarachnid · 1 month ago

Text

SKY ROCKETS AND ROBOTS - part I

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff, some angst, a little bit of spicy

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Part 2

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5k

ᯓ★ TW(s): Y/N's ex left her when she got pregnant, Tony is a softie here

ᯓ★ Timeline: before the Avengers were formed

ᯓ★ Request: Tony stark × reader! single mom please? With fluff and smut 😅😅💐 ( @binsan)

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

You were once a bright young engineer, fresh out of MIT with dreams as big as the sky. You had a passion for technology, a sharp mind, and a heart full of ambition. Then life happened, in ways you never expected. You met someone, fell in love, and things moved fast. Maybe too fast. A whirlwind romance turned into an unexpected pregnancy, and before you knew it, you were a mother to a beautiful baby girl named Lily.

But your partner? He wasn’t ready. He disappeared from your life, leaving you alone to figure things out. At first, it was overwhelming, balancing work, the responsibilities of motherhood, and the heartbreak of abandonment. But you pulled through. You took up freelance work, designing software and small tech solutions from home, juggling conference calls while nursing, coding through the night after bedtime. You got used to it, became stronger, more resilient. Now, your daughter is five, a bundle of energy and curiosity who’s inherited your love for science and technology.

You’ve come a long way since those early days of struggle, but there’s still a part of you that wonders if you’ll ever find someone who’ll love both you and Lily. Someone who won’t run at the first sign of difficulty.

And then one day, you meet Tony Stark.

🚀

You don’t expect your day to take a turn like this. It’s a warm Saturday afternoon, and you’re at a local science expo — a rare treat for you and Lily. She’s dragging you from one exhibit to another, her little hands pulling on yours with excited tugs. It’s moments like these that remind you why you push so hard. Seeing her wide-eyed and full of wonder makes every sleepless night worth it.

You’re at an exhibit featuring cutting-edge AI when you feel her stop abruptly.

“Mommy, look! That's Iron Man!” Lily’s voice is filled with awe as she points to the tall figure standing a few feet away, surrounded by a small crowd. You follow her finger, and your heart skips a beat.

Tony Stark.

There’s no mistaking him, dressed in a sharp blazer and sunglasses, exuding that signature arrogance and charm you’ve only ever seen on TV. He’s in the middle of a casual conversation with someone, but even from here, you can feel the aura of importance surrounding him.

“Yeah, that’s Iron Man,” you murmur, feeling a bit like a deer in headlights. You hadn’t expected to run into someone like him.

But Lily, being the fearless little adventurer she is, takes off running toward him before you can stop her. You’re quick on her heels, heart pounding as you call her name.

“Lily, wait!”

But it’s too late. She’s already tugging on Tony Stark’s pant leg by the time you catch up, looking up at him with those wide, curious eyes.

“Hi, Iron Man! I like your robots,” she says brightly, as if she’s talking to any random adult. Tony glances down, pulling his sunglasses off to reveal a pair of surprisingly kind eyes as he kneels to her level.

“Hey there, kiddo. You’ve got good taste.” He flashes a grin, and for a moment, you see why people love him so much. There’s something disarming about his easy confidence.

You finally reach them, feeling flushed with embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry—she’s… really into tech. She didn’t mean to—”

But Tony waves a hand dismissively, standing up to his full height and giving you a once-over. His gaze lingers just a fraction too long, and you suddenly feel like you’re under a microscope.

“No harm done,” he says, his tone surprisingly light. “She’s got a future, clearly. Knows how to pick role models.”

You chuckle awkwardly, still trying to process that you’re standing in front of the Tony Stark. Up close, he’s even more intimidating, but in a weirdly magnetic way. There’s a spark in his eyes that speaks of brilliance, mischief, and something deeper you can’t quite put your finger on.

“She loves Iron Man,” you say, trying to regain some composure. “She’s been obsessed with building things since she could stack blocks. I can’t seem to keep her away from anything mechanical.”

Tony arches a brow, glancing down at Lily who’s now excitedly talking about the miniature rocket she tried to build last week.

“Is that so?” he says, crouching down again, giving Lily his full attention. “A mini rocket, huh? Did it work?”

Lily shakes her head, her pigtails swaying. “It almost did. But it went boom.”

Tony chuckles, ruffling her hair lightly. “Sometimes that’s how the best inventions start. Next time, try using a lower combustion rate. Less ‘boom,’ more ‘whoosh.’”

You’re surprised by how gentle he is with her, how effortlessly he connects with a child, that you don't have the heart to tell him that it was you who did the major part of the building process. For a moment, you just watch them, your chest tightening at the sight of Lily’s joy. It’s rare for her to interact with anyone like this, especially someone who doesn’t treat her like a kid.

He stands up again, turning to you with a smirk. “She’s smart. Gets it from her mom?”

You flush slightly at the compliment, feeling a bit tongue-tied under his gaze. “I guess you could say that. I was an engineer before…” You trail off, not sure why you’re suddenly oversharing. Something about Tony Stark makes it hard not to.

Before you can say more, he interrupts. “Let me guess — you’re still an engineer. Just doing the mom-engineer thing now. That’s no small feat.”

You blink, caught off guard by how perceptive he is. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I know a thing or two about multitasking. Running a company and saving the world — it’s basically the same as raising a kid, right?”

You laugh despite yourself, relaxing a little. He’s not what you expected. Less distant, more… human.

“Sure, except your robots actually listen to you,” you quip, and Tony grins.

“Most of the time,” he admits. “So, any chance I could take a look at that rocket project? I’ve got a thing for fixing ‘booms.’”

Your heart skips again at the casual offer, but before you can reply, Lily pipes up, bouncing on her toes.

“Can we, Mommy? Please?”

You glance between her eager face and Tony’s amused expression. This is surreal. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at both of you — like he’s actually interested, not just humoring a fan. Like he sees you.

Maybe this isn’t a bad idea after all.

As you walk beside Tony Stark, weaving through the crowd, you can't quite believe what's happening. This kind of thing doesn't happen to people like you. Yet here you are, with Lily practically skipping ahead, chattering excitedly about rockets and robots, while Tony listens with genuine interest.

“So,” he says, glancing sideways at you, “what’s your theory on the combustion failure? Too much fuel or not enough stabilization?”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden technical question. You’d been bracing yourself for more of his charm or sarcasm, but here he is, actually engaging with you on a deeper level. You’re impressed, though it makes sense—he is Tony Stark, after all.

“Stabilization, mostly,” you reply, falling into a rhythm of conversation. “The design was sound, but we didn’t account for the weight distribution. It shifted mid-launch and threw everything off.”

He nods thoughtfully, like he's analyzing every detail. “Classic mistake. I had a similar issue with one of my early suits—though, you know, a little less ‘mini rocket,’ a little more ‘metal suit crashing into a building.’ Same basic concept, though.”

You laugh at the mental image, feeling a bit more at ease. “Yeah, I imagine the stakes were a little higher for you.”

Tony shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, let’s just say property damage and I have a complicated relationship.”

Lily turns around, walking backward as she looks up at Tony with wide eyes. “Did you blow up a building?!”

He grins, glancing down at her. “A few, but mostly on purpose. Don’t try that at home, kid.”

Lily giggles, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She’s clearly in awe of him, and it’s hard to blame her. You feel a bit of that awe yourself, though you’re trying not to show it.

“So, where’s this rocket of yours?” Tony asks, glancing around like he's half-expecting it to pop out of nowhere.

You clear your throat, feeling a bit sheepish. “Oh, um… it’s back at our apartment. We didn’t exactly bring it to the expo. I wasn’t expecting to run into… well, you.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing more pronounced. “What, you don’t carry failed rocket prototypes everywhere you go? Amateur move.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Tony taps his chin, pretending to think hard. “Tell you what. Why don’t you two swing by my place later? I’ve got a full lab, and I’m sure we can find something that won’t blow up—at least not right away.”

Your heart skips at the offer. Is he serious? Inviting you to Stark Tower like it’s the most casual thing in the world? You glance down at Lily, who’s looking up at you with pleading eyes, clearly hoping you’ll say yes.

“Are you sure?” you ask, trying not to sound too shocked. “I mean, we wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Tony waves a hand dismissively. “Intrude? Nah. Besides, I’ve been meaning to show off my new toys to someone who actually appreciates them. Kids are way better at that than most adults.” He glances down at Lily, then adds with a wink, “Plus, I’ve got juice boxes.”

Lily practically jumps up and down. “Mommy, can we go? Please, please, please?”

You hesitate for a moment, weighing the surreal situation. But something about Tony’s easy demeanor, the way he’s connected with Lily, and even the way he’s made you feel comfortable makes it hard to say no. It’s not every day you get a chance like this, and you know Lily will talk about it for weeks if you turn it down.

“Alright,” you say, giving in with a smile. “I guess we’re going to Stark Tower.”

Tony grins, looking genuinely pleased with your answer. “Great. Let’s make it a field trip.”

🚀

An hour later, you find yourself walking through the sleek, high-tech halls of Stark Tower. The whole place feels like something out of a futuristic movie, and you can’t help but feel a little out of place. But Tony, ever the showman, makes sure neither you nor Lily feel that way for long.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he says with a grand gesture, like he’s introducing you to some royal palace. “I was going for ‘modest,’ but you know, things escalated.”

Lily’s eyes are practically bugging out of her head as she looks around, taking in the shiny surfaces, the impressive tech displays, and the overall coolness of the place. “This is so cool,” she breathes.

You can’t help but agree. “Yeah, this is… incredible.”

Tony leads you both to his lab, where holograms flicker in the air, and sleek machines hum quietly in the background. It’s every bit as impressive as you’d imagined—maybe more so. He walks over to a workbench, tapping a few buttons on a console until a holographic blueprint of a rocket hovers in front of him.

“Alright, kiddo,” he says, crouching down to Lily’s level. “Let’s see what we’re working with. Tell me about your rocket.”

Lily beams, launching into an enthusiastic explanation of her project, complete with wild hand gestures. Tony listens intently, nodding at all the right moments, occasionally throwing in a comment or suggestion.

You stand back, watching the two of them interact. It’s surreal, seeing Tony Stark—the Tony Stark—so genuinely engaged with your daughter. He’s patient, encouraging, and—despite his usual sarcasm—there’s a warmth in the way he talks to her that catches you off guard.

As Lily finishes her explanation, Tony stands up and looks over at you. “Sounds like you’ve got a real prodigy on your hands.”

You smile, feeling a swell of pride. “She’s pretty special, yeah.”

Tony taps his chin thoughtfully, then flashes you a grin. “You know, I don’t usually offer internships to five-year-olds, but I could make an exception.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe in a few years.”

“Fair enough,” Tony replies, still grinning. “But seriously, if she ever wants a tour of the lab—or you do—just say the word.”

You raise an eyebrow, surprised by the offer. “You’re full of surprises today.”

Tony shrugs, nonchalant. “What can I say? I’m a generous guy. Plus, I like hanging out with people who don’t try to sell me on their latest ‘groundbreaking’ invention every five minutes.”

The three of you spend the next hour tinkering with the rocket design. Tony gives Lily some gentle guidance, teaching her a few tricks of the trade while making sure to keep things light and fun. You can tell she’s having the time of her life, and honestly, so are you. You’ve never seen her this animated, this confident.

As the afternoon winds down, Tony walks you both back to the lobby, hands in his pockets, his usual easy smirk back in place.

“Well, that was fun,” he says. “I’ll have my people send over the specs we worked on. Maybe next time, we can tackle world domination.”

You chuckle. “I’ll let you know if we’re free for that.”

Tony winks at Lily, who’s practically buzzing with excitement. “And hey, kid—next time you’ve got a rocket that goes ‘boom,’ give me a call. We’ll fix it together.”

Lily grins, waving enthusiastically. “Okay! Bye, Iron Man!”

As you leave Stark Tower, you can’t help but glance back at Tony one last time. He gives you a casual wave before turning back toward his lab, and you can’t shake the feeling that today was more than just a chance encounter.

It feels like the beginning of something. Something new. Something… different.

And you can’t wait to see where it goes.

🚀

Over the next few weeks, your life takes on a surreal, almost dream-like quality as Tony Stark begins to weave his way into your world. What starts as a few casual meet-ups, mostly centered around Lily’s fascination with all things tech, turns into something much more.

The first time he invites you both back to Stark Tower, it’s under the pretense of helping Lily with her latest invention—a robot that she’s determined to build from scratch. You sit back, watching as Tony patiently explains complex concepts to your five-year-old daughter, all while making it fun for her. There’s a tenderness in the way he interacts with her that surprises you. Tony Stark, the world-renowned billionaire with a reputation for being difficult, is kind and patient with a child, in ways you never would have expected.

You’re impressed, of course. But more than that, you find yourself drawn to the man behind the Iron Man persona.

It starts with little things. The way Tony catches your eye when Lily says something particularly cute or brilliant, the small smirk he gives when he knows you’re trying to hold back a laugh. He makes a habit of throwing sarcastic comments your way, but you soon realize it’s his way of flirting—teasing you in that playful, witty way he’s known for.

"You know," he says one afternoon while you’re watching him help Lily with a mechanical arm for her robot, “I think I deserve some kind of award for this. ‘Best Teacher to a Mini-Engineer.’ Maybe a medal. Or a statue.”

You smirk, folding your arms across your chest. “Oh, absolutely. I’m sure the world’s been waiting for a bronze Tony Stark to grace Central Park.”

He grins, that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. “I knew you were smart.”

It’s in these small moments that you find yourself opening up to him. You’ve always been independent, not allowing yourself to lean on anyone for help, but Tony’s different. He’s been through his own struggles, carried his own burdens, and while you’re still cautious, you find comfort in the fact that he gets it. He doesn’t judge you for being a single mom or for the sacrifices you’ve had to make. If anything, he admires it.

"Raising a kid and working as an engineer?" he says one night over dinner—yes, dinner. He’d invited you and Lily over for what he called "a Stark special," which turned out to be takeout pizza and some ridiculous dessert made by his AI assistant. "That’s a superhero gig right there."

You laugh, shaking your head. “I’m pretty sure saving the world in a metal suit still beats making school lunches and fixing leaky faucets.”

“Hey,” Tony says, his tone light but serious, “you do both. No suit needed.”

That night, when you leave, you find yourself thinking about him long after Lily has fallen asleep. There's something about Tony that lingers. Maybe it's his charm, or maybe it's the way he looks at you like you’re more than just a mom balancing a million things—like he sees the person you were before all the responsibilities took over.

As time passes, the two of you fall into an easy rhythm. You, Tony, and Lily have your little routine now, with frequent visits to Stark Tower becoming almost a weekend tradition. What surprises you most is how seamlessly Tony has integrated into your life—and not just with Lily. He asks about your work, your passions, the things you’ve had to put on hold since becoming a single mom. He pushes you to take up some of your old engineering projects, even offering his lab space if you ever want to tinker.

“You could use the space when I’m not around,” he says one evening, nonchalant as ever. “There’s always room for another genius around here.”

You laugh it off, though your heart skips a beat. “I’m pretty sure one genius is enough.”

Tony arches an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “You’re right. With you here, we might be over capacity.”

As the weeks turn into months, you realize you’ve grown used to having Tony around. He’s no longer just the famous billionaire who showed up at a science expo one day. He’s become a friend, someone you can talk to, someone you can rely on.

But there’s more to it than just friendship. You feel it in the way your heart flutters when he leans a little too close during one of his sarcastic quips, or the warmth that spreads through your chest when he smiles at you—really smiles, with that soft, almost vulnerable look in his eyes. You find yourself looking forward to the moments when it's just the two of you, standing on the balcony of Stark Tower late at night, talking about everything and nothing while Lily sleeps soundly in the guest room.

One evening, after one of those long, late-night talks, something shifts. You’re standing on the balcony, the city skyline stretched out before you, the cool breeze brushing your skin. Tony’s beside you, quiet for once, just watching the city lights. There’s a rare stillness about him, and you feel the weight of it, like he’s on the verge of saying something important.

“You know,” he says after a long pause, his voice quieter than usual, “I didn’t expect this.”

You glance at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

He turns to face you, and for a moment, he’s not the confident, sarcastic Tony Stark. There’s something raw in his expression, something vulnerable. “This. Us. You and Lily.” He swallows, as if the words are difficult for him. “I’ve spent so much time being Iron Man, or the guy who fixes problems, that I forgot what it’s like to just… be with someone. To care about people who aren’t expecting me to save the world.”

Your heart skips. His honesty catches you off guard, but you can tell it’s not something he shares often. And suddenly, you realize that you feel the same way.

“You’ve been… different for us, too,” you admit, your voice soft. “I wasn’t looking for anyone, and definitely not someone like you, but…” You trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence. How do you explain that Tony Stark has become more than just a fixture in your life? That you’ve started to fall for him, for all his quirks and complexities, for the way he’s seamlessly become part of your world?

Before you can find the right words, Tony steps closer. His eyes hold yours, that familiar spark of mischief still there, but tempered with something deeper. “I think,” he says, his voice low, “you and I are a pretty good team.”

You smile, feeling the weight of what’s unspoken between you. “Yeah,” you whisper. “We are.”

And then, without another word, Tony leans in. The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters. But when your lips meet, there’s a spark, an electric current that runs through you both, confirming what you’ve known for a while now.

This is real. This is something worth holding on to.

🚀

The decision to make your relationship with Tony Stark official doesn’t happen in a single moment—it’s a gradual shift, one that feels inevitable after months of stolen glances, lingering touches, and nights spent talking on his balcony. But when it does happen, it’s perfect in its simplicity.

It starts one morning in his penthouse, a few months after that first kiss. You’ve been spending more time there, with Lily (who Tony affectionately refers to as "the little genius") practically making his lab her second home. The three of you have fallen into a comfortable rhythm, a little makeshift family that somehow feels like it’s always been meant to be.

On this particular morning, you wake up tangled in Tony’s sheets, the warmth of his body pressed against your back, his arm draped lazily over your waist. You turn your head slightly, smiling to yourself as you hear the soft hum of his breathing. For a man who seems to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, he looks surprisingly peaceful when he sleeps.

As you shift to move, Tony tightens his arm around you, pulling you back against him with a sleepy grumble. “Where do you think you’re going?”

You chuckle, your voice hushed in the early morning quiet. “Trying to escape before your little apprentice wakes up.”

He groans, burying his face in your neck. “Let her tinker. She’s practically running the lab anyway.” His lips graze your shoulder as he speaks, and you feel a familiar spark of heat ripple through you at his touch.

“You’re terrible,” you murmur, though there’s no real bite in your words. You’ve gotten used to Tony’s brand of affection—playful, but with an edge of intensity that never fails to make your heart race.

“Mmm, terrible, but irresistible.” His voice is still thick with sleep, but there’s a hint of mischief in it, the same mischief that always makes your pulse quicken. He shifts slightly, his hand trailing from your waist down to your thigh, fingers brushing lightly against your skin in a way that’s both teasing and possessive.

You turn in his arms, meeting his gaze. His eyes are half-lidded, but there’s a familiar hunger there that sends a thrill of anticipation through you. “You’re definitely full of yourself,” you say, though your voice is softer now, breathier.

Tony’s smirk grows, his hand slipping beneath the sheets to pull you closer. “And you love it.”

Before you can respond, his lips capture yours, and any thought of protest melts away in the heat of the kiss. His hand grips your thigh, pulling your leg over his waist as he deepens the kiss, the familiar intensity building between you. It’s slow at first, a lazy sort of desire, but it doesn’t take long before you’re both lost in each other, the rest of the world fading away.

Later, as the sun filters through the curtains and you’re both tangled together in the sheets, a comfortable silence fills the room. Tony’s fingers are tracing absent patterns on your arm, and you can’t help but smile at how natural it feels, how easy.

“Have you thought about… telling people?” you ask softly, your head resting on his chest.

Tony raises an eyebrow, though he doesn’t seem surprised by the question. “Telling people, as in the media?”

You nod, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable. Being with Tony Stark comes with a certain level of exposure, and while you’ve been okay with the low profile you’ve kept so far, part of you wonders what it would mean to go public.

Tony is quiet for a moment, then he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. “Hey, I don’t care what they say out there,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “If you want to keep things private for now, we can do that. But if you’re asking if I’m ready to go public…”

His thumb brushes over your cheek, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Your heart flutters at his words, warmth blooming in your chest. “I don’t care about the media,” you admit. “I just… I want to make sure we’re ready. That Lily’s ready.”

Tony’s expression softens at the mention of your daughter. “Lily’s already got me wrapped around her finger. I’d be more worried about how I’m going to survive that.”

You laugh, but the sincerity in his words brings a lump to your throat. Tony’s relationship with Lily has grown in ways you never expected. He’s been patient, playful, and completely devoted to her. And seeing them together has only deepened your feelings for him.

“Okay,” you say finally, smiling at him. “Let’s do it. Let’s go public.”

When the news breaks, the media goes into a frenzy. The headlines scream about “Tony Stark’s New Flame,” and “Iron Man’s Mystery Woman.” Paparazzi photos of you and Tony walking hand in hand through Central Park with Lily are splashed across every tabloid and news outlet.

To your surprise, the response is largely positive. While some outlets speculate about Tony’s past relationships and his infamous bachelor reputation, most seem genuinely intrigued by the idea of Tony Stark settling down, especially with someone who isn’t from the celebrity world.

The tabloids nickname you “The Genius and the Heart” and seem fascinated by how “normal” your life is compared to Tony’s glamorous lifestyle. There are articles praising you for balancing being a single mom with your engineering career, while others focus on Tony’s softer side, now that he’s seen as a father figure to your daughter.

You try to ignore most of the noise, but Tony, of course, has fun with it. One morning, you catch him scrolling through a gossip site, shaking his head in amusement.

“They think I’m domestic now,” he says, pretending to be offended. “I mean, can you imagine me, Tony Stark, settling down with a family?”

You roll your eyes, sitting beside him on the couch. “You do realize you’re proving them right by reading that, right?”

He grins, tossing his phone aside before pulling you into his lap. “Let them think what they want. I’ve got everything I need right here.”

The moment you realize how much your relationship with Tony has changed comes one evening when you’re back at the penthouse after a long day. Tony’s in the kitchen with Lily, helping her with a science project that’s somehow turned into an impromptu baking session. The sound of Lily’s giggles fills the space, and you’re watching them from the doorway, a warm smile on your face.

Tony’s crouched down, talking to Lily as they decorate cupcakes—his version of “science.” You’re about to step in and join them when you hear it. Lily looks up at Tony, eyes wide with excitement, and says, “Can I put the sprinkles on, Daddy?”

Your breath catches. It’s the first time she’s ever called him that, and for a moment, you freeze, unsure how Tony will react.

But Tony doesn’t miss a beat. He smiles, ruffling her hair and handing her the sprinkles. “Go for it, kiddo. Just don’t get too carried away.”

Your heart swells, a mix of joy and disbelief washing over you. Lily’s words hang in the air, and when Tony glances up at you, there’s a softness in his expression that takes your breath away. He’s not just playing a part—he’s become a part of your life in ways you never imagined.

Later, when Lily’s asleep, you and Tony find yourselves curled up on the couch, the weight of the day settling into a comfortable silence. You rest your head on his chest, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm.

“She called you ‘Daddy,’” you murmur softly, still processing the moment.

Tony’s hand tightens around yours, his voice quiet but filled with warmth. “Yeah, she did.”

You glance up at him, searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all you see is a man who has found his place—who has chosen to be here, with you and Lily.

“Are you okay with that?” you ask, your voice a little unsteady.

Tony looks down at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I’ve never been more okay with anything,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m all in. With both of you.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they’re tears of happiness, of relief. You reach up, cupping his face as you pull him into a kiss—slow, tender, and filled with all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long.

When you finally pull away, Tony brushes a thumb across your cheek, his smile soft but full of promise. “So, what do you say? Think you can handle me as part of the family?”

You laugh, your heart feeling light. “I think we’ve been handling you just fine.”

And as you settle back into his arms, you know that this—this—is exactly where you’re meant to be. Together. A family.

Forever.

okay, this was so cute to write <3 I love writing Tony as a softie, because I know deep down he is one.

208 notes · View notes

sashi-ya · 1 year ago

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ part one: Aizen, Byakuya, Ukitake, Shunsui, ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤUryu, Äs, Kenpachi.

♡ tw: pregnancy symptoms. fluff, a lot of fluff. ♡ wc: mini scenarios ~3k total. ♡ coming next in part two ➛ kisuke, shuuhei, shinji, ichigo, ryuuken ➛ you can request for others.

𝐀𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞. The man that has everything planned, widened his chocolate orbs once the unexpected happened. It didn’t take him much to discover the truth, not because you wanted to hide it but because it was clear to him. Your body had changed; the little differences in your physique didn’t match the characteristics he had studied so exhaustingly about you. Those weren’t normal fluctuations in weight nor your cups size. But mostly, he noticed it on the way your hips slightly began to adapt to prepare for nine months ahead. Something that, inside of his own twisted thoughts, made his heart beat go faster.

The black tea he was sipping that morning fogged his glasses, he still uses them to read. However, the many technical and biological aspects of hollowification were set aside for as long as you watched through the windows of squad five on an autumn day. Sosuke took his glasses off and stood up, as always, in the only way he knows how to… dominantly, like there was nothing nor anybody above himself. Big hands reached for your hip bones, nose that traced a perfect warmth path from the crook of your neck to your ear. “How many weeks?” he asked, because he knew. “I am not sure… are you mad?” you asked back, knowing this could potentially ruin his plans. “Hmm…Mad…? How could I?” he answered. You watched his smile suddenly go from a smirk to a soft, soft expression. Sosuke melt, Sosuke felt like he wasn’t as lonely in this world as he used to think he was…

𝐊𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐲𝐚. Mornings have never been really lively; those days in which he calmly sat on his special chair, drinking his tea while you still stay in bed suddenly got interrupted by a rather suspicious behaviour coming from you. Two mornings in which you ran to the bathroom covering your mouth were enough to set the alarms for the Kuchiki clan head. “She is sick. SHE IS SICK” he panicked. Not again, not again… he felt once again the fright, the fear of losing his lover. Byakuya didn’t need much more to ask you, however the idea of pregnancy -even for one of the most intelligent minds of the Seireitei- never crossed his mind. By the third day, in which you thought you could run faster than him, his foot stopped the door from closing. “I called Dr. Yamada Seinosuke, he is coming to check on you” those cold words sounded like an order, yet, he was as scared as a lonely child. Byakuya felt unable to express any other feeling, if any at all. All the progress he made, seemed to be lost in just a matter of seconds. His hands couldn’t touch you; his arms couldn’t hold you. Deep blue eyes had turned every shade of black, and once again he felt himself drowning into the deepest waters of his inner world. “I am not sick, Byakuya…” you murmured, after washing your mouth with a soft smile and your hands over your belly. “I’m sure you can quite understand why I am feeling this way…” Oh, how to repeat the way those deep blue eyes suddenly became the colour of a summer sky.

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐔𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞. You weren’t nauseous. You didn’t even notice at first. But he did. Somehow, without even knowing, every night in your sleep your hands reached for his and dragged them to your belly. It was as if you were asking him to protect something sacred. And he could tell a piece of his own soul nested in yours, safely resting, surrounded by the purest love. His long locks rained on your cheek, on that morning in which snow as white as them covered the green hills of the Seireitei. “I am sure there is something you need to tell me…” he whispered, caressing your cheek with the softest kiss. “Wh-wha-t….?” your lips began to tremble, many tears sprouted from your sleepy eyes. It was as if those words where the sudden revelation of something “you didn’t know you already knew” “I will protect both of you, even if it might cost my life… you two will be always first”

𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐮 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐢. He noticed something had changed the moment he came home and discovered you sleeping on the couch made into a ball. What is happening with his lively sweet doll? Why is she sad? What is going on? “Honey… what is going on? I’m sorry it took me a little bit more to come back home, being the general Taicho keeps me a lot more busier…” he sadly whispered in your ear, as he lifted you up and carried you to bed. The scent of his skin immediately brings a soothing effect to your unknown cause of anguish. You were a total mess of emotions that you couldn’t handle all alone, and you didn’t even know why it was happening to you. Shunsui put you in bed, and when he got inside the sheets you immediately snuggled against his wide chest. “I… I don’t know why I am so sad, but I’m so glad you are back” you whispered, kissing a patch of slight caramel skin. His hands instantly landed on the crown of your head, pulling you closer, surrounding you with the type of paternal care and protection he had always had. “You know, maybe it is that time of the month…” he dared to murmur, sure he was about to get a soft punch coming from you. Of course, not everything In a woman’s life has to do with her… hormones… You widened your eyes, blinking rapidly while looking at a clueless Kyoraku. “I… it’s- been- two months…” your lips trembled. You suddenly realized that, while lost into nightly sex sessions with him, your period -nor Shunsui’s cream pie kink- represented a problem to you. “YOU DON’T MEAN… YOU – AM I GOING TO BE A DADDY????? I AM GONNA BE A DADDY!!!! CALL ME DADDY, OK?” “Shunsui, for the love of God… I need to take a test- we-” you giggled, still amazed and unsure but excited.

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐙𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐢. Carrying every child he could find in the Seireitei on his shoulders, Kenpachi is the ultimate father. He doesn’t even have to try. He never cared for your period, it never represented something that could stop him to love you and your body. In fact, the messier the better. However, those moments began to be absent, and he didn’t take much to realize. During that spring night, in which he indulged in some sake with his subordinates, he suddenly popped a question to them. “Oi, my woman hasn’t got her period in two months… what the fuck?” Yumichika choked with his drink, while Ikkaku definitely spitted all the contents of his mouth in a violent motion. “TAICHO?” the beautiful Shinigami asked, once he had recovered the composure. “TAICHO… ARE YOU SURE?” he continued. “Yeah. What is it?” Zaraki asked, confused by their sudden reaction -and honestly about to laugh at Ikakku turning red, even his head, from how much he was coughing- “She could be pregnant, Taicho… are you gonna be a father?” Yumichika assumed, particularly amazed by how his captain was asking something so important and yet so obvious as if it was nothing. Kenpachi’s eyes suddenly turned from wild to more softened ones. He left the sake bottle down and stood up. With no words said, he left, leaving his subordinates astonished. A loud thump on the door, woke you up all of a sudden. You sit down on the bed, not sure whether to grab your zanpakuto or not until you noticed the topping huge silhouette of your brute lover. “Kenny, the fuck is going on?” you ask, while grazing your right eye. “ARE YOU PREGNANT WOMAN?” he asked, shouting, and desperately requiring for you to give him the truth. You gasp. You hadn’t even taken a test yet and even if it was pretty possible, how did he notice? “HOW? I DON’T KNOW YET” you told him, urging him to close the door. You didn’t really want the whole barracks to know. Kenny sat right by your side and cupped you to his lap. “Come’ere…” he murmured, nuzzling on your hair. He was holding you with the care someone would have to grab a piece of silk paper. He scoffed, sweetly with his eyes shut and a big smile adorning his sharp manly features. “Nhh… yes, yes yes yes!!!” he celebrated, ripping the most beautiful smile from your lips.

𝐈𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐚 𝐔𝐫𝐲𝐮. “Dr. Ishida, you have another patient” his secretary informed him by the end of his shift. “I have received every kid on the agenda for the day, is it urgent?” Uryu asked, he was used to treating kids whenever there was an emergency. Some paediatric patients can’t wait. “Well, is not urgent but the mother requested me with urgency that you please take a look at her baby” she said, walking into his office with two papers in her hands. She handed them to Uryu who soon discovered the next patient wasn’t even born yet. “But… (secretary name), this is a pregnancy test… I am not an obstetrician I shouldn’t- plus, whose tests are these? They don’t even have the name of the patient” the Quincy doctor stood up, a little annoyed and confused. “The patient is waiting on the ultrasound room; she has been already connected to the heart monitor by Nurse Inoue. Just please give the preggo lady a look. She specifically requested for a check-up by Dr. Ishida Uryuu” the secretary said, giggling and leaving the room as fast as possible. Uryuu remained silent for a few minutes, listening to those accelerated heartbeats coming from a few doors away. Even if he is a peadiatrician, OB and Neo are also located in the same floor as his, in his father’s hospital. He smiled sweetly, the sound of a new life thriving to become a beloved child in some months always melts his heart. He should go back home soon, but he couldn’t help it… there was something in that sweet beating melody that put a big smile on his face and called him to listen to it for a longer time. He put his coat on and thought of texting you “I’ll be home in a couple of minutes, just an urgent consult and I’ll be free” but he didn’t. He thought you were tired of excuses and him coming home late. Cleaning his glasses, he entered the ultrasound room, presenting himself without taking a look at the patient immediately. “Good afternoon, I’m Dr. Ishida. The secretary told me you request- (Name)…?” he stopped his words, discovering your barely bumpy belly and the sound of that heart coming from within you. “Good afternoon, Dr. Ishida. Would you like to meet the love of your life?” His eyes become waterfalls, Uryuu couldn’t move for a couple of seconds. He then, sat right by your side and with a soft peck on your lips, he whispered a heartfelt “Thank you, my love”…

𝐀̈𝐬 𝐍𝐨̈𝐝𝐭.

There was a time, where things were different. Where Äs didn’t feel pain, nor loneliness. A different outcome, where his body cured and the first steps out of that hospital were given holding her warm hand in his. No pain, no war, nor powers, nor Kings. It had been difficult to adapt for him; he didn’t know exactly what it was to make love. But he learned, naturally, by the calling of his heart and his needs. He also didn’t know what it was to love and be loved, but he discovered he didn’t need to try with you. And slowly but surely, a new family of you and him, happened. “Do you think I could be a good father someday?” he asked, while playing with your hair on a very orange sunset in the garden of your little house. “You wanna be a father, Äs?” you asked back, a little surprised by the right timing of his questioning. “I am a little scared… well, not a little… I am afraid of not being able to be one” he answered, looking right towards the fiery clouds of an autumn afternoon. His paler complexion, kissed by the dying sun rays, reminded you of those days in which it was too painful to be touched; and how hope was all that it was needed to progress. You look towards the crunchy leaves underneath your feet, and then grabbed his slim cold hand. “Follow me inside, there is something I need to show you…” “My dear Äs, I am about to grant you with a big power right now. Would you accept it?” you ask, covering his eyes with a black face mask that had been hanging there since covid. “What- yes? But what is it? You are scaring me” he murmured, confused. “Give me your hands” you ordered him, depositing something fluffy on his palms. When you took off the mask off his face, his black orbs fixed on the white pair of booties on his hands. “This…” “I am giving you a very strong power, the “F” one… Äs, you are gonna be a father… a fantastic father”

1K notes · View notes

amymbona · 2 months ago

Text

IRRESPONSIBLE

TW: young adult pregnancy and parenthood

2006, the year of Play station 3, Hannah Montana, Britney Spears filling the clubs and your unexpected pregnancy with Patrick Zweig. It happens so quickly, you barely remember any of it; one moment you're tagging along your best friend at the US Open, the next one, you're hidden in a random bathroom and clutching onto the tennis boy's blue polo. Few weeks later, you're prying his number from Tashi's phone and sending him a blurry picture of your positive pregnancy test.

Patrick ignores you for two long weeks, not texting you back even after the twenty six calls you leave in desperation. When he finally answers, he denies any connection to the image and proceeds to call you a slut before hanging up, so you're left to try and reach out for another three weeks. When you finally break the news to your parents and book a doctor's appointment, where the suspicion unfortunately gets confirmed, you snap Patrick a picture of the black and white ultrasound photo you were given. He's at your door the next morning.

Things get set in motion and the two move into a flat in the city, one that is close enough so your parents are available if you ever need them. But Patrick, being too afraid of your father, assures them he's gonna give you the same treatment a princess deserves. Being the rich kid, the rising tennis star, he fills your new home with everything times two, as if that could substitute the lack of experience the two of you have, as you're both mentally still children.

He's there for your next appointment, palms sweating when he gets a peek at the little bean that slowly grows in your stomach. Is it already that big? Wait, is it a girl or a boy? That's when it hits you both that there is a whole new human growing inside of you, someone so vulnerable who will be absolutely dependent on you. Someone, who the two of you will have to give hundred and twenty percent of your time, care and attention to. There's no way the two of you will be able to do that, at this age.

When the day finally comes, both of you are a goddamn mess. You're sobbing, holding onto Patrick and unable to bear all the ache that your body absolutely wasn't prepared for, and Patrick is panicking, refusing to let you out of sight even though he shouldn't even care for you that much. The two of you are not even dating. He should only care for the child, not you. Then why is his heart breaking every time he hears you cry?

He swears you have never looked more beautiful before than right now, with your cheeks read and hair tossed into a messy ponytail, completely out of breath and clutching your new born babygirl to your naked chest. He almost faints right here and there, unable to accept the truth.

The first few weeks at home are a walk through hell, filled with constant high pitched cries, sweat and tears of your own. The two of you barely get any sleep and your whole body hurts, there's no time to be dedicated to getting to know the father of your baby better that you could actually consider building a relationship with him. You both sleep in separate beds in separate rooms, each one of you trying to get as much comfort as possible when the little one's asleep.

If it's not the baby crying, Patrick is awoken by your sobs, as you deem the night time the only possible opportunity to let your feelings flow freely. You're in pain, you're tired, you're fucking miserable. And you can't help yourself but hate the little human who has changed your life forever. And for worse.

Your depressed state is what finally gets Patrick to be responsible, to push through everything that was holding him back and google how the fuck to take care of an actual baby. He manages to clean the place somehow, at least partially, and make it look a bit predentable (not that there is anyone visiting the two of you, besides your parents once or twice a week) and makes it his task to wash the baby and change her diapers. Now he just has to squeeze you in between all his responsibilities. He should be taking care of you as well.

Patrick finds it funny when you get all bashful while breastfeeding the baby, trying to cover yourself from his sight, as if he hasn't literally seen you give birth. If only you knew how beautiful Patrick finds you, how he has to hold back from reaching out and caressing any part of your body that is still so filled and plump. He never brings the fact that he has heard you cry so often, fearing that it would send you back into something deeper. He knows how you (don't) handle embarrassment.

It's rare for you to get out of bed for anything other that the basic hygiene and breastfeeding, but after almost two months, you finally manage to contribute to the living arrangement. Even though you barely speak - to both Patrick and the baby - you're working, and that's good. Partially. The more time passes, the harder it hits you that this really is forever, that this little human with light freckles on her chubby cheeks will be dependent on you for the rest of her and your lives, and there is no way this cycle could ever be broken.

You do break down in Patrick's arms once, after a particularly tough day when the little one couldn't stop crying and your head felt like a hot air balloon that might explode. Everything just crumbles down and instead of yelling at you, instead of pushing you away and telling you to suck it up, Patrick just holds you like you're the most precious thing in this world - like you're his girls - and tells you that everything will be okay. He spends fourty fucking minutes repeating the same phrase; you'll be okay, you'll be okay, you'll be okay. You have to be okay.

The two of you don't speak about that encounter, especially after you wake up in Patrick's room, in Patrick's bed, in Patrick's arms. And you're back to being silent. Somehow, things seem to have improved, at least partially. You have split the work in half; Patrick changes the diapers and baths the little one while you cook and breastfeed. Play time includes the two of you sitting in a carpet in the living room, offering your baby any of the toys you've both and making stupid sounds to entertain her.

Somehow, Patrick slowly transforms into a gentleman - if he could be called one, for not even a twenty year old - and really does his best to overcome whatever barriers are there between the two of you. He does not only attend to the baby but to you as well, offering to wash your hair or massage your back. The first time he touches you - the actual very first time his hands are properly on your body since the night you magically conceived - everything feels so different. Patrick is suddenly gentle, tenderly sliding his palms over your bare back and digging his thumbs into the dimples above the waistband of your sweatpants. Each grunt that leaves your lips goes straight to his core, filling him with something warm and unknown.

Almost automatically, you begin sleeping in Patrick's bed (argumenting that it's comfier than your own) and it's clear that the effect it has on you has been more than needed. When you find yourself surrounded by muscular arms every morning, it messes with your brain in a way that's difficult to describe. Usually, it's a mix of appreciation for being cared for so tenderly and fear that all of it was just a dream.

One day, it couldn't be past four in the morning, the two of you are awoken by the little one's cries, Patrick tells you to sleep, baby, I'll handle it and presses a kiss to your cheek before slipping out of the bed to tend to the baby's needs. It's safe to say you have trouble falling asleep after that.

These displays of affection turn into something automatic, much to your surprise. Never ever would you expect Patrick to act like a pretty decent father and an attentive romantic partner (not that you're in that kind of relationship at the moment), but slowly but surely, this whole thing is turning into something which could resemble a family. You're still a bit reserved though, at least compared to Patrick who's aware that his daughter need a functional family and is slowly falling in love with you.

Finally, he is able to muster enough courage and ask you out on a date. A proper fucking one. At first, he's tempted to hide it behind the two of you just need to get a breath of fresh air when your parents offer to babysit, but he's unable to hide his intention. He really fucking wants you. So the two of you go for some fancy dinner, then a walk through the local park where Patrick really wants to kiss you, but he doesn't dare to. When you come home, with your baby fast asleep in her small room, it's hard to resist each other and you end up naked in your shared bed.

Post sex clarity hits you the following morning and things go back to awkward, bouncing between wholesome moments of the two of you getting somewhat physical and then both of you ignoring each other for unusually long periods of time. It seems that both of you are equally as afraid to move it to another level. But Patrick can't stop wanting you.

Unfortunately, tennis enters the equation and begins wanting Patrick before you could, as the season is approaching once again. In the words of his agent, Patrick still has the potential to be one of the most seen faces despite spending the last half a year not playing the sport at all. He is torn between pursuing his career, something he's been working to master ever since he was able to walk and hold a racket, and possibly throwing it all away for the two people that entered his life so suddenly. And since it is Patrick Zweig we're talking about, he chooses the first option.

It doesn't take a single week that he gets back into the routine for the whole household to collapse completely. Coming back late in the evenings, he's a witness to your broken self, messy place and his crying baby daughter. There's no way this could possibly go on without you turning crazy in a few weeks, so Patrick decides to abruptly change his decision. He's sitting this season out, even if it means he has to quiz tennis. He couldn't bear watching the mother of his child turn into a lifeless ghost and become unable to take care of their baby.

So from now on, it's not Patrick Zweig, a professional tennis player, has transformed into Patrick Zweig, a full time dad. Stay at home dad, shopping for groceries dad, bathe his babygirl dad, care for the mother of his child dad. This is what Patrick is, this is what his life has been upgraded to and, honestly, he wouldn't have it any other way.

#not proofread i'm lazy </3 #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig fluff #patrick zweig angst #dad!au #dad!patrick #mom!reader #challengers #art donaldson #tashi duncan

231 notes · View notes