Darthwhorecrux

sunday new moon ovulation mood ☝️😔

Based on this beautiful request from my sister wife @tomitsulikeslemons <3

Another Friday night had come and gone. It was sometime past one in the morning, the dance floor packed, vibrating with hip hop music, and colorful lights weaved through the sea of sweaty, intoxicated bodies. You and your friends had wriggled your way out of the crowd, off to have one last drink, though none of you needed it. That was evident in the way you sauntered through the stuffy air carelessly, a slant in your step, every thought, thing, person, scenario funnier than it really was, reality viewed through a different lens. By the way your friends talked and acted you knew they shared your state of mind, the trio of you fueled off one another. 

What you didn't share with them was your desire to leave this place. Dancing to the latest hits was fun for a while, but your heart craved something else. All night you'd longed for a change of scenery, a specific place in mind. Most of the bars would be closing soon. You'd shied away from bringing it up all night, but halfway through what was supposed to be your final drink, it became now-or-never.

"We should go to the jazz bar!" you announced, beaming excitedly to hide the embarrassed blush coating your cheeks. 

As expected, you were immediately met with resistance, both of your friends giving you eye rolls, exhausted groans and disapproving shakes of the head. 

"Seriously?!" One of them grumbled, unafraid to give it to you straight. "That place is sooo dead. Every time we go there it makes me want to fall asleep," she voiced dramatically. Your other friend nodded her agreement, taking a long, tired sip from her drink. 

"It's romantic and luxurious," you countered. "You just don't know how to appreciate good music." It was your turn to take a long sip now, glancing to the side and raising your eyebrows over your glass. 

"HEY!" She shouted while your other friend simultaneously accused, "oh, please, we all know you're not going for the music."

"Yes I am!" You whined defensively, though you understood immediately what she meant, especially by the shit-eating grin spreading on her face. 

"That's right," your other friend giggled, catching on, the two of them exchanging devious glances. "You only got into jazz because you want the owner's PICKLE!" She chanted the last bit, cupping her hands around her mouth for the whole club to hear, or at least those nearby. 

"It’s not true!" You hissed. "Maybe I just like going somewhere where random men aren't constantly trying to get behind me like dogs!" You took another drink from your glass, nervously chugging.

"Yeah, yeah, none of them can compare to your little jazz boyfriend, we know," your friend snorted. The other joined in her laughter, the two of them like goofy, taunting hyenas. 

"I'm - I can't - that's not even remotely true," you stammered, repeating yourself, crossing your arms over your chest, looking all too interested at the contents in your glass. 

"She's blushing!" They pointed at and prodded your cheeks. 

"My cheeks always get red when I drink!" You snapped back, swatting their hands away. 

"Okay, okay," your friend giggled, waving her hand dismissively to get you to calm down. "We'll go with you."

"Really?" 

"If," she paused for effect, "you admit you want to get the mario coins knocked out of you by the owner."

"You're insane,” you scoffed and shook your head.

"No, you are,” your other friend jumped back in. “We're your best friends! You can tell us! We make great wing women." She grinned and nudged your other friend.

"You do not-"

You were interrupted by her beginning to mock you, words you would never say, altering her voice to sound high-pitched and damsel-in-distress-y, “you’re the only one who truly understands music, Daddy!”

“Let’s listen to some of your jazz while we fuck!” Your other friend naturally went along. 

They carried on, one of them moaning and tossing her hair while the other sang a classic jazz song in a deep, cartoony voice. A group of men nearby started to look over, curious at the spectacle. It was then that you clapped your hands over each of their mouths, silencing their torment.

One of them licked your hand, causing you to recoil. "Sorry,” she giggled. “We're done."

"Well, I'm not interested in going anymore,” you pouted. 

"Don't be so stubborn,” your friend said, taking a quick sip of her drink and stirring the ice around. “Let me finish my drink. Then we can go see your man," she promised.

Your pout twitched, etching into a smile while your other friend winked at you and began to chug her glass. 

Not much later, the three of you took to the streets, staggering along to the jazz bar you adored so much. With each step you found yourself turning inward, getting in your head about your appearance and your general vibe. You hoped your makeup and hair didn’t look too run-down from the night’s activities, or that it wasn’t too obvious in your heavily-lidded eyes that you were far from sober. You even found yourself smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in your long, elegant dress, a piece you had picked out with the intention of ending up here later tonight. The closer you got to your destination, the more you attempted to straighten out, to walk more gracefully and practice opening lines in your mind. Your anxious thoughts only ceased when your trio clicked up to the bouncer, arms interlocked, no need to show him your IDs. You were familiar faces at this establishment after all. 

But then, he wasn’t stepping aside, didn’t lift the velvet rope and gesture you in as he normally did with a “welcome back, ladies.” He stood firm with his hands clasped, forcing a practiced frown as he said instead, "sorry ladies. We're closing up in about fifteen minutes. Can't come in."

Your heart sank. Dramatic as it was, you felt your night had been wholly ruined by this piece of information, by this denied entry. Your friends watched your enthusiastic expression fall, and one of them broke from the group immediately, clacking forward with an aggressive, steely look in her eyes that you knew all too well. 

"So? Let us in for fifteen minutes," she demanded, hands on her hips and chest puffed out. 

The bouncer towered over her, unmoving. "We can't.” He shrugged carelessly. “The doors are shut."

His resolute words made you deflate even more, but further provoked your feisty friend. "Seriously?” She shifted her weight onto one leg, crossing her arms over her chest and tapping her heel against the concrete. “Where's the owner? I want him to tell us."

"No, no.” You tugged at her elbow, disconcerted by the prospect of bothering him. You pulled her back into line with you and your other friend. “It's fine. We'll go," you said decisively, not wanting to start conflict at his bar.

"Uh, no we won't.” Once she had a mission in mind, she didn’t back down. She raised a manicured pointer finger in the air. “I didn't walk all the way here to get turned away. We come here all the time, and many of those times we were here past two am! Is this how you treat valued customers?!"

The bouncer still didn’t seem to want to budge, looking bored with the three of you. He rolled his neck this way and that while your friend snapped at him, his mind likely only halfway here. It only added to your humiliation, had you angling your feet in the opposite direction, trying to nudge your friends away, but they weren’t conceding. 

"Yeah, c'mon dude, seriously,” your other friend joined in the fray. “Three young things like us?” She gestured between the three of you. “You need us in there."

"Maybe when we opened several hours ago,” he opposed, letting the slightest bit of irritation slip into his tone before regaining his composure. “I really am sorry, girls, but it's policy."

"Policy? Policy?!” That made your temperamental friend explode, her arms flailing about in the air between them. “What are you, the goddamn police?!"

"It's okay!” You pulled her back again, panicked. This had already escalated too far. “We can come another night! No big deal!” You offered a sheepish, crooked smile to the bouncer, chuckling nervously as you attempted to steer your trio away for the last time. “Sorry for the trouble."

"No!” Your friend frowned, stomping her foot childishly, not yet ready to accept defeat. “You were excited! We're not leaving!"

You sighed, exasperated and uncomfortable with so much confrontation at a place you loved so much. "I'm telling you it's-"

"Is there a problem here?" 

The four of you followed the familiar voice, like deers in headlights, peering up at the owner as he stood at the top of the stairs in front of the entrance in a wide stance, eyes narrowed down at the group of you. 

You froze at the sight of him, breath catching in your throat. 

Shinji.

"No, no boss,” the bouncer scrambled to explain, sounding much less indifferent than he had moments ago. The large man turned small in Shinji’s presence, not so tough now. “Just telling these ladies we'll be closing up soon."

His narrowed gaze slid smoothly from his employee over to the three of you. When his eyes met yours, they softened, his glare reserved for man and man only. "Oh, it's my girls."

You squeaked as your friend shoved you forward, nearly knocking you over the rope. You straightened, just like you had practiced, smiling tightly and waving bashfully up at him. 

"Hey, sweetheart,” Shinji chuckled languidly, slowly beginning his descent down the stairs towards you. “Ya coming in?"

"We're trying to,” your friend grumbled from behind, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the bouncer, eager to pin blame on him. “Are you gonna fire this guy or what?" 

"Whatever you want darlin',” Shinji laughed, unhooking the rope and ignoring his bouncer’s dumbfounded expression. “Come on, then."

Your friends giggled excitedly at the VIP treatment, as if they weren’t complaining about having to come here thirty minutes ago, prancing forward and up the stairs. You lingered behind, murmuring another “sorry” to the bouncer before you moved to follow them. 

Shinji held out his arm for you to take. “I was beginning to think I wasn’t gonna get to see ya tonight.” He eyed your figure. “Looking so pretty too.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You smiled coyly, taking his arm and letting him lead you inside, careful not to trip up the stairs. 

You were met with the usual scene, dim lighting, gold, reds, purples, the woodsy aroma of whiskey mixed with cigar smoke and expensive perfumes, two men gathered in hushed conversation at the bar, a new couple huddled together in the corner playing footsies, an old one twirling with each other on the floor to a romantic tune, glimpses of lovers and loners alike on the balcony, and your friends already spinning each other around, looking wild and beautiful and catching the eyes of most men in here, however young or old. 

Shinji was not one of them, too busy with his eyes on you. “Are ya thirsty, baby doll?”

Every little variation of pet name he gave you made your chest flutter, the sweet names and phrases like doses of sugar coming from him. It gave you a rush, and you couldn’t get enough. You were an addict, constantly coming back for more. “Can I just have a water?”

“You can have whatever you like,” he responded, detaching from your side to slide behind the bar, his bartender occupied with flirtatious women at the end. 

Shinji made quick work of filling your glass, throwing in a lemon and garnishing it with a small flower. You giggled your thanks when he handed it to you, making him grin adoringly as you sipped from the pretty glass, perched in the stool across from him.  

You were working up the courage to launch into conversation with him, racking your brain for how to start calmly when he made you feel so airy and excitable, when one of his regulars was slinking up to the bar, coming to catch up before saying his goodbyes for the night.

“Hey!” Shinji beamed towards him before throwing you an apologetic look. “I’ll be back for ya,” he assured before he was off, playing the gracious owner. 

You waited impatiently for him to return, not-so-subtly watching as he got trapped in one conversation after the next, getting to know some of the unfamiliar faces before they left for the night or revisiting with returning patrons. Envy burned in your chest, observing them stealing away your time with him when you had been waiting for this all night. 

As the clock neared and then passed two am, despite the fact that Shinji never formally kicked anyone out, most people filed out on their own, some stopping him to thank him or to chat about their night or their most recent heartbreak or how their job has been so shitty and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. You supposed you couldn’t blame them - Shinji was easy to talk to, attentive, humorous and ran a damn good establishment, but you couldn’t help the mounting frustration any time another straggler prevented him from making his way back to you, stealing even more precious time as the night progressed into the wee small hours of the morning. You were getting bitter, silently commanding everyone in the room to please, just leave.

Your friends sashayed their way over to you, one of them faking a yawn. “Looks like it’s closing time,” she observed, throwing you a suggestive look.

“You’re leaving?” Your brows furrowed.

“I mean, yeah,” your other friend laughed. “What? You want us to stay and watch when he…” she trailed off, making a lewd gesture with her hands.

“Didn’t realize you were into that,” they joked.

“That’s not going to happen.” You blushed deeply. “And I’m wondering if I should leave with you.” You glanced longingly in Shinji’s direction, watching him speak with an old pair who were here every week. “He seems like he’s pretty busy. I haven’t really got to talk to him all night.” You looked at your glass of melted ice sadly.

“You have to stay!” Your friend urged you. “You came here for a reason. Don’t pussy out.”

“Do you want us to stay until everybody else is gone?” Your other friend offered.

It was tempting, but you weren’t going to make them sit here with you when they were ready to go. Besides, it seemed like there were only a couple of others left aside from the old couple, and all of Shinji’s staff had already cleaned up and gone. If you were staying, surely, it wouldn’t be much longer until you got him all to yourself. Your friend was right. Now was not the time to pussy out. You’d waited this long, what was a little longer?

“That’s okay.” You smiled, getting down from your stool to hug and kiss them goodbye. “Thank you guys for coming with me.”

“You know we always will. Go get some pickle.” They smacked your butt before departing, waving teasingly to Shinji as they sidled past the chattery old people. 

At the sight of their exit, Shinji looked your way, confirming that you were still there, waiting for him. He smirked to himself before turning back to the old couple, exchanging their last words before he helped them out and down the stairs, returning to say and wave goodbye as the other few remaining people wrapped it up and left. 

It was finally just the two of you, the moment you had been wishing for all night. An upbeat jazz song echoed around the vacant space as he made his way back to your side. He looked a little delirious, dark smudges under his wandering eyes, a few more of his buttons undone, revealing more of his chest. He was probably worn out from the long night. It made him look impossibly sexier.    

“Hi,” he greeted playfully.

“Hi,” you said timidly, pushing down the feral urges rising to the surface. “Again. Those old people have a later bedtime than I do.”

Shinji grinned amusedly at your passive aggressive joke. “I’m sorry for disappearing for so long.” He snuck in closer, whispering, “did ya miss me?”

“Maybe,” you whispered back, heating up under his intense gaze.

“I sure missed you,” he confessed, bringing a hand to ghost over your waist. His eyes dropped to follow the motion. “I like this dress,” he complimented. “Yer a real knockout. I was afraid someone else was going to come and snatch you up.”

“You’re being dramatic.” You reached for your hair to smooth down the messy strands.

“I’m not,” he disagreed seriously, his voice dropping an octave. It was silent for a moment, nothing but the surround sound of jazz, and the transition into a slower and more sensual instrumental. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have to wait for anyone. By the way, how much trouble did my bouncer give ya earlier?” He raised an eyebrow threateningly. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, honestly!” You laughed nervously, looking towards the entrance as you thought of his employee and the way he shrunk down when Shinji came outside. You were shrinking now in your own way, having an inkling that if you said the word, he’d truly get fired in a heartbeat, and you didn’t particularly want that on your conscience. “He was just doing his job.”

“His job is to let my girl in, no matter the day or time or whatever the hell else is going on,” Shinji said sternly. “He’s an idiot.”

“I made it in here. No hard feelings.” You tentatively put a hand on his chest, bringing yourself closer to him, some of your fingers curled against his shirt, and others on his bare skin. 

“Yer too forgiving.” He calmed, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath your touch. 

“I just want everyone to be happy.”

“And what about you?”

“Well,” you avoided his eyes as you confessed, “I’m happy now…”

He smiled arrogantly. “Yeah?”

You nodded.

The music played distantly again, reminding you that you were alone with him, the only two around to hear it. Shinji’s hand fell from your waist, coming to rest atop where yours was pressed to his chest. 

“So then, shall we dance?” He asked, grinning mischievously. 

“What?” You nearly gasped, gazing at the empty floor. “I don’t dance - like that!” You panicked, imagining the intimacy of it - his hands on your waist, his body so close, moving in sync with yours to the slow music playing over the speakers. There would be no explaining away your feelings, just movement and lots of eye contact, all body language. You were all talk and no game, wobbling on your heels, sure that you were going to embarrass yourself, that you were going to put his favorite genre to shame, and then it would be all over. 

“Sure ya do,” he chuckled at your jittery state. “Yer just being shy.” He grabbed your hand, pulling it from his chest to entangle his fingers with yours, rubbing your skin with his thumb.

“I really don’t know how to.” You hesitated. “I’ll make a fool of myself.”

He shook his head, bringing the back of your hand to his lips for a chaste kiss. “Let me teach you.” 

Without another word, he was hurrying away, plunging the space into silence. He returned with an old record player, making a comment about the “real deal” as he set it up. He left again in search for a specific record, leaving you to shuffle in place and twiddle your thumbs, rubbing the back of your hand where his lips came and went. 

While you waited, your thoughts ran unchecked, thinking again about him pulling you along the floor to something romantic, your dress swishing about at your ankles, holding his hand long enough for your palm to sweat in his…your heart hammered in your chest, beating to the wrong rhythm. You took steadying breaths, remembering to slow down, to be smooth as jazz. 

Shinji looked your way excitedly, finally putting the record in place. He rushed back over to you, and so as not to waste a moment of the song, he grabbed onto you immediately, a hand on your hip, and another taking your hand. There was no more time to worry, and only time for dance. 

The music began, like stars twinkling, the language of dreams, while strings crooned in the background. Eyes like saucers, you looked to Shinji for guidance on where to put your free hand. “Up here.” He nodded towards his shoulder. 

You delicately placed your hand where he instructed, tensing at the feel of him, at the tiniest movement of his muscles underneath the soft fabric of his dress shirt. You weren’t able to think about it for very long as your feet were pulled into movement, Shinji taking you with him to the melody. 

Of course, you found a way to complicate it, no matter how simple it was. All you had to do was move your feet where he tugged you, but you couldn’t manage even that, staggering in your heels, but he never let you falter too much, tightening his hand on your hip and his other in yours to keep you upright and in line. “Yer alright, yer okay,” he’d say. “I’ve got you.”

He never stopped, covering the expanse of the floor with his eyes on yours. You still couldn’t quite get out of your head, but it was getting easier as the song progressed. You let both Shinji and your intuition guide you, and as such, your clumsiness slowly faded away, replaced by a gracefulness you never knew you had. When you were starting to get the hang of the easy part, he was releasing your hip, keeping your hand in his and twirling you.

You laughed and squealed, feeling more at ease the more playful he was, all of the stress and the worry cascading out of you with the twirl. It was fun, the feeling of being whipped around by him, your dress and hair twirling too, so much so that it had you cheering, “again!” And of course he obliged you, spinning you around once more.  

Shinji must have been feeling as euphoric as you, opening his mouth to belt out a line of the song.

“You’d be hers if only she would call!”

The words, whether they were just lyrics to sing along to or something he really meant, stunted you. Your smile fell, your expression turning serious and fervent as his eyes bore into yours. He grinned at your stunned expression, encouraging you to listen to the lyrics more carefully as he swayed with you. 

It had you relaxing into the movement even more, the placement of your feet and your body’s responses becoming second nature as you honed in on the music. In this, you found a new appreciation for the instruments and their union, much like the way you united with Shinji now, the bliss when certain notes and sounds came together at once. 

Though the music was peaceful, the moment was intense. Your throat tightened with the way he looked at you, the way he moved you and spun you like you were a flower, the way he sang to you, “you’d be hers if only she would call.” Would he be mine? Does he want to be mine?

It had you recounting all of the times you came in here, how he always greeted you with his signature smirk when you came in and let you stay late, making cheeky remarks about whatever outfit you had on that night or paying enough attention to compliment your hair or makeup, telling creepy men to get lost when they approached you, knowing your drink order and making sure it was never empty, playing your favorite songs, walking you out and telling you that he’d see you next time…he always did. 

And tonight, all that transpired, the same protectiveness and pet names and compliments, but now, the dance. You’d always written off his behavior and his words as his personality, a natural flirt, or maybe just the fact that he needed business, and you were naive enough to fall into his trap over and over again. He was sweet and protective to all the women. After all, he’d told your friend “whatever you want darlin’” at her request that he fire the bouncer, and talked to various women, young and old, before they left tonight. 

You couldn’t deny that on your hard days, you thought about it a little too much, wondered what those conversations with other women consisted of, if maybe you were just his Friday girl and on Saturday he had another little doll staggering up to the velvet rope, batting her lashes and getting him to fulfill her every wish and command, just for the night. It was why you never took any of it too seriously before now, allowing yourself to get excited each night that you visited, but not to take it back home with you, too afraid to have your heart broken.

But being here with him tonight made everything feel real. You weren’t his Friday girl, you were his every day girl. Sure, he gave everybody sweet nicknames, but he complimented you, he searched for you, he stayed behind for you. It had been this way all along, you were just too stuck in your head, letting your insecurities cloud your judgment. If you had just called him, just given him the word, he’d be yours. 

So perceptive, it was as if Shinji knew you were overthinking it all now, worry passing over his features as he observed you. He twirled you again just to see you smile, but instead of spinning you around fully, he ended this one with his chest to your back and his arms wrapped around you, keeping you there for a moment before spinning you back out again, whisking you along and out of the room before you could see the rosiness in his cheeks.

He took you to the balcony, reconnecting with you there, the music still heard from inside as the chill night nipped at you playfully. The lyrics returned, and you strained to hear them as Shinji tucked you into his chest, rocking you more slowly now to keep you warm from the wind whipping your hair and dress around your frame. 

“When your lonely heart has learned its lesson

You’d be hers if only she would call.”

You looked up from Shinji’s chest, searching his face for the truth as the town below you started to settle into bed. 

“In the wee small hours of the morning

That’s the time you miss her most of all.”

Chills prickled your skin as the song twinkled out, the stars overhead now. When it stopped, the both of you stopped moving, but continued to hold one another, staring in silence with nothing but the distant sounds of the world around you and the whispers of an early spring night. 

Selfishly, you had to know. You needed to hear him say it, for your own peace of mind. “Do you,” you hesitated, but his soft, patient gaze brought you the rest of the way, “have feelings for me?”

“I have for a long time,” he answered you easily, seriously.

“How long?” You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself in closer, looking at him with glassy eyes. 

“Not long after you started coming here,” again, with a quick, steadfast response. “You’ve always been my girl.”

You let your instincts take over, looking at his lips, leaning in the slightest bit, this was the call. 

And he moved in the rest of the way until your lips were pressed together, becoming yours. He didn’t have to miss you anymore - at this hour, when he was normally closing up, heading home to lie awake and think of you - because here you were, finally where he had longed for you to be, with him. 

The kiss was long, but sweet. Pure and wholesome, he kept your lips against his, and nothing more, pulling back to hug you tightly, pressing more tender kisses onto your cheek and forehead. “A long time,” he said to himself again, running his fingers through your hair as he rested his head against yours.

“I’m your girl,” you spoke to yourself too, smiling like an idiot and shivering against him, excited and a bit chilly. 

“Yer cold,” he commented, smoothing his palms down your back.

“A little.”

He hummed, rubbing his hands up and down your bare arms now. “Want to go back inside?”

“No. I like it out here.” You snuggled back into his chest, leaning against him as you observed the lights below and above. “Just keep me warm.”

He started to unbutton his shirt, untucking it from his pants and pulling it off to wrap it around you.

“You took your shirt off?!” You giggled at him in disbelief.

“My baby’s cold.” He shrugged with a smile, pulling the fabric around your naked shoulders before cuddling you back into him. 

“But you’ll be cold now,” you worried, running your hands along his bare chest and arms, exposed to the night air.

“I’m fine.” He pulled you tighter against him, repeating your words, “just keep me warm.”

Content to be here with him like this, finally yours, you reflected on your humble beginnings, when your friends were reluctant to come here with you, and then when they were refusing not to be let in. You giggled to yourself as you thought of them and how they were going to interrogate you about the rest of your night - or morning, rather. You were going to have to tell them the truth. Okay, I admit, I do want his pickle.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆

The weather this evening, that late-summer-early-fall breeze, reminds you of that special night. It’s around the same time too, the wee small hours of the morning. You’re normally asleep at this hour, but missing him more than usual, you can’t catch a wink. 

“What’re ya still doing awake?” Shinji asks when he finally returns to your shared home, peeling his clothes off and leaving them in a pile on the floor. Too exhausted for a shower, he joins you in bed. 

“Missing you.” You wrap yourself around him instantly, moaning softly at the heat rolling off of his body on this chilly night. “Have any dances tonight?”

“Hopefully one now - with you,” he growls into your neck, nipping at the skin there. 

And so, you dance, no music necessary when you both create your own. The only sounds he loves more than his jazz are the noises that come from you when he makes you feel good. Shinji’s too tired to be anywhere but in bed with you, but not too tired to make love as you say goodbye to yet another Friday night. 

Based on this wonderful request from my baby girl @tomitsulikeslemons !!!! DADDY SHINJI (literally)

🤰

Somehow, you knew there was new life growing inside of you. A woman's intuition, you supposed, but the positive test result in front of you confirmed it.

You were pregnant with your husband, Shinji Hirako's child.

At this verified discovery, a flurry of emotions hit you at once, and you began to sob. Overwhelmed, you sank to your knees in the bathroom as you tried to comprehend what this meant, your world flipped upside down without the need for your husband's zanpakuto. You were ready and you were not, excited and terrified, confident and insecure. One moment you were smiling, crying happily and laughing through your tears, and the next your brows were furrowing together, worry tugging at your heart that what if you weren't a good mother? What was going to happen to you now that you were going to be responsible for another human? Were you a bad person for thinking these things? No, you were happy. So, so happy. Putting your hand on your belly, you hadn't met your child yet, and you already had so much love for them, more love than you had for anything or anyone else in this world.

And speaking of love, Shinji, you breathed, your silly Shinji, your other half, the father of your child, what would he think?

You had talked about having children with him, so the concept wasn't entirely foreign, but you weren't exactly trying per se. He never disapproved of the idea, but this was sure to be overwhelming for him too. How would he take this?

He'd been so busy as a Captain now, you hadn't even got around to telling him that night. Or the next. It wasn't until the third night that the truth became too heavy for you to carry on your own.

He was being stupid and oblivious, too busy thinking with his dick and trying to get you out of your clothes. The kind of behavior that got you in this situation in the first place, he initially didn't notice your anxious mannerisms.

But your dearest wasn't a complete moron as so many thought of him. Observant, sensitive, and intuitive, when he snaked his arms around you from behind, you felt him still.

"Wait a minute," he whispered before spinning you around to face him, pressing a hand into your chest to confirm his suspicions. "You're shaking, and your heart's racing. Sweetheart?"

The jig was up. You tried to smile, but it came out crooked and frightened. It only made his face further contort with worry.

"I have something to tell you," you confessed timidly.

Shinji frowned deeply and released you. "Oh, shit. Please don't divorce me."

You couldn't help but scoff at him. "You dork! I'm not going anywhere!" He always had a way of making you laugh when you needed it most, but you couldn't keep putting this off. You exhaled shakily, "actually, it's quite the opposite..."

The poor, confused bastard. He raised an eyebrow at you, not quite following. "The opposite? The opposite..." He narrowed his eyes in thought.

"Shinji." Exasperated, you grabbed the hand he dropped from your heart, splaying his fingers over your stomach. "I'm pregnant."

His narrowed eyes shot open, brightening at your words. He looked at your tummy, as if he'd already find a bulge there, then back up at you again, then back down, then back up. He was being so quiet, your man who normally never shut up, it unnerved you. You were raising your eyebrows at him expectantly, needing him to say something, anything.

Then he was kneeling before you, putting both of his hands on your stomach, in disbelief that his child, his, was growing somewhere in there. "No way," he breathed, smoothing his palms over the surface of your torso. "You're pregnant? Really?" He looked up from where he knelt, his sharp features gone soft.

"Mhm." You nodded, smiling gently, his softness contagious.

Shinji looked at your belly again, gasping in disbelief, processing your words. His silence again worried you, made you reach for his hair and tangle your fingers through it, hoping to get his attention.

He shot up from where he knelt, startling you, scooping you into his arms and spinning you around in a flash, whooping and hollering maniacally. He placed you back on your feet to hug you and deliver sloppy, innocent smooches all over your face, smothering you.

He pulled back, panting, holding you by your shoulders. "I knew I was a sharp shooter, but this - this!" He shook you, laughing. "Holy shit! I'm gonna be a dad! I'm really gonna be a dad!" He chanted, grinning wide. "And you!" His voice broke off as he curled a hand around your jaw, looking utterly soft and kissable again. "Oh, my little mommy! My sweet baby's havin' a baby! My baby's gonna be a mommy!"

Emotion exploded almost painfully in your chest as you were reminded of that fact for a second time. You were going to be a mother, and him a father. The father of your child. The statement didn't seem true, but alas, it was. His excitement made tears spring from your eyes all over again. Your lip wobbled but strained into a smile as you joined in his laughter. He understood the weight of your emotions, pulling you into his chest in a suffocating embrace to sob it out. He rubbed your back and thought aloud over and over again, "I'm gonna be a dad. We're gonna be parents."

You stayed in his arms for a long time, standing there, and then in bed, relishing in the comfort and safety you felt when you were with him. You were grateful your child would grow up to experience the same, to be loved and protected by someone so special. When you were finally calmed down enough, he had something else to say.

"I'm gonna be such a dilf."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🍁๋࣭ ⭑🍂༘⋆

The seasons were different, more meaningful, as your baby grew through each of them. The rest of the autumn and holiday season was special now that there was an impending addition to your family. As the leaves fell and the weather changed, you were reminded of the change happening within you. You frequently made and shared cozy, nourishing meals and treats with Shinji, spent more time cuddled up with him rubbing your belly and whispering sweet nothings in your ear as the evenings got darker and colder. Quality time spent with him was more frequent, slower, more deliberate.

At holiday festivals with your friends, you and Shinji had to find ways to cover the fact that you weren't throwing back drinks as you normally would, being that the pregnancy was still only in the beginning stages and you had yet to break the news to them. You were never alone, your husband always at your side, careful, calculating, safeguarding.

"Oh, she's not feeling well tonight," he'd speak for you, protectively slinging an arm around your shoulder and tugging you into his side, glaring at the person prodding you.

On the occasion that he let you respond, you'd save yourself with something as simple and uncomfortable as "ah, I've been putting on some pounds recently, and I'm trying to cut back on the extra calories," pretending that you were ashamed of your growing stomach when really you were elated.

"Yeah, you are looking a little more filled out these days," Soi Fon replied impassively when you told her this, making your jaw drop despite the fact that you were mostly lying.

"What the hell does that mean?" You had to pull Shinji back from getting into an argument with her, nervously laughing it off and excusing her blunt nature.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Then came the harsh winter, and you didn't mind so much being stuck indoors this year. You enjoyed staying at home with your little bun in the oven, taking long, warm baths, lighting candles, asking Shinji to bring you home whatever you were craving that day. You were actually starting to fill out now, and so you shared the news with a few close compatriots in the new year.

"Oh, congratulations!" Orihime beamed, hugging you, holding your hand, and talking your ear off about motherhood, being that she already had a little boy with Ichigo.

"Yeah, congrats." Ichigo smiled in agreement, proudly slapping Shinji on the back. "Little scary that Hirako's gonna be a dad, but congrats!"

"HEY!" Your husband frowned.

Rukia asked you about the gender as she watched her own little girl playing with Renji, if you had a preference for a boy or girl. You explained that you and Shinji agreed to let the gender be a surprise, coming up with a variety of names should your child be a boy or girl. You'd both be happy no matter who your child turned out to be, gracious that you were even blessed enough to have a child at all, or so Shinji told you. For every boy name he came up with, there were 3 more girl names. You never nagged him about it, but you had the inkling he wanted to be a girl dad.

Now that people were starting to find out, he was increasingly going all "dad mode," as he called it, not caring who was around to witness it. Shinji always had a bit of a protective streak, but now...you couldn't so much as step outside without him rushing to your side, holding your hand or arm to help you along.

"You could slip on ice!" He'd reason.

"My love, it's nearly fifty degrees out today. There's no ice."

You couldn't blame his overprotective behavior much. You were going through a lot of behavioral changes as well, much worse than anything he was.

For one, you had become incredibly needy for him. It was odd. You'd thought you wouldn't want to be touched being that you were swelling up, but on the contrary, you were constantly in heat, begging for him to satisfy you no matter the place or time.

"You sure you want this? What if I accidentally poke junior?" He'd grin and tease you.

"You're big, but you're not that big, Shinji. Just fuck me already."

"Ouch. So impatient, momma," he tsked. "But I guess I've got to take care of my wife, don't I?"

And for another thing, you were a rollercoaster of uncontrollable emotions, especially the more your pregnancy progressed. You were constantly snapping over the smallest of irritants or bursting into tears over minor inconveniences, like the day Shinji brought you a tray of sushi in an attempt to cheer you up after you were already having a particularly difficult day.

"You idiot! I can't have sushi!" You shouted at him, heated with fury over such a small matter and with the effort it took to fight off tears.

"Ah, forgot about that." Shinji scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, dumbly.

It made you explode, a cascade of waterworks streaming down your cheeks. Another thing that had changed was how much softer he was with you, if it was even possible for him to get any more so, despite how bitchy you had been. So then you were crying because of your hot-temper, hurt curling around and squeezing your heart at the helpless way he looked when you yelled at him.

"I'm being so mean to you! I'm so sorry! I'm a horrible wife!"

"What?! No!" He'd pet your hair and kiss your tears away. "If anything, I deserved it. I am an idiot for getting you sushi. Wasn't thinkin', doll. I'm sorry."

Shinji had learned a lot of patience through the months, and it made him a better man in every aspect of his life, not just at home. He was never the most tightly-wound, but he had mellowed out considerably as he took care of you and his unborn child each day, growing into a gentle guardian before you had even given birth.

"He's been so calm lately," Momo informed you over lunch one day. "Training has been a lot less strenuous. Everyone on the squad keeps joking that they hope you stay pregnant forever," she giggled.

"Glad I could be of help," you giggled along with her.

˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

When the spring came, you were much bigger, getting ready to blossom just as the season was. As it got warmer and sunnier, Shinji made a show of shading you wherever you went, protecting your sensitive skin from the sun, and on those stormy days, he stayed inside with you, making you comfort food and falling asleep with his head in your lap as you read aloud or listened to music, introducing your child to the art you loved so much.

The fickle weather reminded you of your inner world, the way one day you'd wake up sunny, full of joy and love and readiness to meet your baby, and the next, stormy, full of trepidation and worry and unpreparedness, fretting constantly over the questions you had been asking yourself since day one: Will I be a good mother? Will I be able to handle this? Am I a bad person for being so afraid? For feeling so unprepared? Should I be doing more?

Shinji was always there to listen and coax you out of the storm, massaging your sore back as the rain fell outside, he'd confess his own worries.

"I feel the same way," he'd say. "Some days, I feel on top of the world, like I can do anything, and fatherhood won't be any different, but other days, not so much. I'm anxious about being a good father too.

"But we're in this together." He placed his hands over your stomach in the shape of a heart. "And I know you'll be a great mother, so why shouldn't I be a great father too?"

"You will be a great father. You already are," you assured him sincerely.

Your baby stirred inside as if to say, "yes, he is! Yes you are!"

"OH, OH! SHE KICKED! SHE KICKED!" Shinji shrieked, feeling around in hopes of catching another flurry of movement.

"She?!" You laughed excitedly.

"Or he. I don't know, it just slipped out." He chuckled abashedly.

You smiled knowingly to yourself. "Maybe she's excited about hearing her daddy talk so sweet."

"Yeah, maybe." He smiled.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Now came summer, and you were about to pop. It was as if an eternity passed and simultaneously, no time passed at all. You were changed and you weren't. You remembered the day you found out like yesterday, feeling almost exactly the way you did that day, but more matured. One thing was for sure, no matter how scared you were, you were ready. You'd never felt more ready for anything in your life, bursting with love and impatience, needing to meet your child, whoever they were, whoever they'd become.

Shinji felt the same way, and he had become equal parts amusing and annoying as you approached your due date.

"You think today's the day?" "How you feelin'? How's our girl...or boy?" "What was that?! Are you having contractions?!"

You laughed at him. "No, I just stubbed my toe."

You surprised yourself with how calm you were even though you were soon to be ripped open. Sitting outside under an umbrella next to Shinji, you were sucking on a popsicle, enjoying the hot day when there was a faint cramping sensation in your abdomen, so light, you hardly noticed and ignored it.

But then it was there again several minutes later, a little more noticeable this time. You straightened in your seat, which caught Shinji's attention, always on high alert.

"What is it?" He asked urgently, staring at your large, round stomach.

"Just a little cramping." You forced a smile.

He gave you a pointed look.

"I don't think we should panic yet. My body's doing funny things all the time." You waved a hand dismissively. "And I haven't finished my popsicle."

It was barely a moment later, Shinji hadn't even a chance to retort, that you were straightening again, gasping as pain shot up your back, making you drop your popsicle.

Your husband shot to his feet. "We're going," he demanded, pulling you up to stand. "Better safe than sorry."

The last thing you saw before being ushered away was your popsicle melting against the concrete, leaving a red stain. And it was a good thing, that he was permanently in dad mode, stealing you away from your quiet day and your treat, because you were indeed going into labor.

The long hours that followed were a fast-paced blur. The peaceful summer day was suddenly bursting with feeling and noise, the cold air conditioning inside the hospital fighting against your sweaty skin, strange sensations and haziness. You could hardly process what was going on, blinded with pain, the only person who grounded you was Shinji, your rock. He sounded distant, but he reminded you over and over again that he wasn't.

"It'll be okay, sweetheart, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

All the pain, the damage inflicted on your body, the blood, sweat, and tears, it was all worth it the moment your baby came out, and your life had finally changed for the better, a love like you had never felt before truly coming to fruition as reality shifted in front of you. You'd do it all again. You'd take this feeling, this unconditional love, and bottle it up to carry with you forever if you could.

"It's a boy!" The doctor cheered.

When you finally got to hold your baby boy, nothing else mattered. The entire world was in your hands, so fragile and so precious that it made you sob uncontrollably in your exhausted and delirious state, cooing to him as he cried, talking to him and telling him how beautiful he was, how much you loved him.

It was extremely rare that Shinji ever cried, and now, there were silent tears streaming down his face, in shock that he played a part in creating this beautiful, little boy. Like you, he knew this was the epitome of love in the flesh before you. You both knew the moment you saw him, you'd do anything for him.

Shinji, who didn't get to have his baby girl (yet), was so in awe of his little guy. He held him with a tenderness and reverence unlike anything you'd seen, crawling into the hospital bed with you to cuddle up as a real family. He took care of you, softly as usual, as you came back to health, and he cherished every little moment of this newborn stage, chattering nonstop to the nurses, the doctor, to you, to friends, to family, anyone who would listen about his son, his son!

"I'm in love," he confessed as he held the tiny boy at home for the first time.

"So am I."

Your son started to bob his head against Shinji's chest, looking to be fed.

Your husband passed him over to you with a smug grin. "Oh yeah, he's a ladies man for sure. Just like his daddy." He winked.

Motherhood was everything you imagined and somehow everything you hadn't all at once. Your son had challenged you, changed you, shaped you in ways you couldn't explain. You were constantly tired yet always finding it in you to go, go, go, constantly stressing but somehow relaxed as ever, knowing this was exactly where you were always meant to be.

And Shinji, he was a fantastic, eccentric, loving father, as you had no doubt he would be. Hearing him playing with your little boy and the sounds of your baby's laughter quickly became your favorite sound in the whole wide world. Your heart swelled each time you saw Shinji twirling him in the air or blowing raspberries into his chubby belly. He was a new man, matured, with quiet strength and so much affection to give, one you were so deeply in love with it was incomprehensible.

He had become great around children generally, not just your son. On play dates with the little Kurosaki and Abarai toddlers, the children would chase your husband and pull his hair and roar with laughter at his quick wit and goofy antics. You rested easy knowing your son would grow to live a vibrant life with lots of love and laughter, never a dull moment with Shinji's playful nature.

You'd never been happier, and you were grateful for every day, every moment, even those filled with stress and struggle and challenge. You continued to grow and raise your son, both happy and sad at how beautiful it was to witness but how fast it happened. Shinji bought him a toy sword and you imagined him years and years from now, with a zanpakuto of his own, getting into dangerous battles, and you already fretted over your baby boy. He'd get taller and stronger, but he'd be your baby forever.

You mourned the loss of previous baby stages as he hit each new milestone, consuming food besides milk, starting to babble, walking, talking, learning new things and amazing you with how smart he was. It was bittersweet, but it wouldn't be the last time you got to experience it as you witnessed that positive test result for the second time.

"Ready to do it again?" You asked your husband with a grin, so much changed already from the last time you told him you were pregnant, shown in the very way you revealed this to him.

"Of course I am, mommy!" Shinji lifted your son in the air. "Of course we are!" Your little boy giggled and cheered, though he didn't know yet what he was cheering for. "Though I do have a request for how to do things differently this time round..."

"And what is that?" You giggled.

"When we can, we find out the gender." He raised his eyebrows hopefully.

"You still want a girl, don't you?" You came forward, kissing your son on the cheek.

"I love my mini me so much obviously," Shinji nuzzled him affectionately, "but yeah. I do."

"Then a girl we'll have." You kissed your husband.

And you did.

(read part II with baby girl here !!!)

hey lets play how hot is that character

aizen and his hopeless captain

Shinji 😉 and Kensei for the how hot is that character ask game!

Shinji...you already know what's about to go down:

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

that's literally my husband☝️

and KENSEI YEEEEESSSSS❗️❗️❗️:

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY

HE'S SO SEXYYYY I JUST WANT TO BITE INTO HIS BICEP

Hey whatcha watching?

TW: negative talks of body image, gets a little smutty at the end, but nothing graphic

bf!Toji x gf!reader where reader is feeling insecure about her body and Toji comforts her like the sweet man he is of course...ehehe

A/N: This is (one of) my first posts of my writing...OMG. I've written before, but I'm pretty inconsistent and haven't really ever gotten serious about posting anything. Just doing this for funsies and to share my passion for anime, JJK, Toji, but I hope I'm playing by the rules correctly! Enjoy <3

You loved your boyfriend for his quiet strength. The way he never seemed to complain, the way he got shit done, the way he didn't mind getting his hands dirty, the way he didn't let his feelings get in the way of his objective. In your eyes, he was a real man, and you adored him for it.

But sometimes he could be so ignorant to the fact that you were the complete opposite of him.

Toji often found it perplexing how sensitive you were. He didn't understand how you could get so stressed about something he wouldn't think twice about. He thought it must be exhausting, living a day inside your mind, where the smallest of things had you spiraling over the edge. He wanted to make you feel better, but he didn't always know how to.

And now, he was entirely at a loss, watching you become increasingly frustrated with every outfit choice you tried out. He begrudgingly watched you unravel as you threw on different combinations of tops and bottoms, even trying out a couple of dresses, just to huff and discard them somewhere else in your shared bedroom, the space as chaotic as your mood. He couldn't grasp what the problem was. In his eyes, you looked great, hell, you looked stunning in every outfit you put on, but somehow you couldn't see it. You twirled around in the full-length mirror aimlessly, eyes scanning over every little flaw and imperfection, letting your negative thoughts run wild. Never mind the fact that the two of you would likely be late to the event, Toji was more worried about how you were going to act throughout the night if you were feeling badly about yourself. He hated when you were upset, and he was racking his brain for something comforting to say, but was coming up short.

You tried on another dress, one that hugged your curves. You frowned and turned to the side, your eyes immediately falling to the soft curve of your stomach. Toji watched you suck in and flatten your palm over the bump. He shook his head to himself as he watched you grimace at your natural, beautiful body. He was growing impatient.

"You look fine, doll," he finally huffed. "And our room looks like a bomb hit it."

You shot him a withering glance. "I look disgusting. I don't even want to go to this shit."

"(Y/N)..." his tone was full of concern. "Please don't do this. You look fine," he repeated stupidly.

"You're just saying that," you accused, pulling off the dress so that you didn't have to look at yourself in it anymore. "I look awful in everything I try on." You were frowning deeply, and Toji knew he'd have to try harder than that to get you to talk to yourself more kindly.

While you were busy searching through the piles to try on a specific blouse again, Toji came up behind you, lifting you with ease and tossing you onto the bed. You yelped, scrambling to cover your body as he stood at the edge.

"What are you doing?!" You yelled at him. "I need to find something or we're gonna be-"

"We're already gonna be late," Toji interrupted. He crawled onto the bed, not stopping until he had you trapped beneath him. "So we're not going anywhere until you admit that you're the cutest, sexiest, most beautiful girl in the world."

"Looks like we're never leaving the house again, then." You joked bitterly.

Toji slapped your bare thigh, making you yelp again. "Not another bad word about yourself. I fucking mean it."

"I hate the way I look right now, Toji," you admitted, tears prickling in your eyes. "I know it's exhausting. I'm sorry I'm so sensitive."

"Don't go crying on me baby, you know I hate that," Toji said more softly.

"I really don't want to go," you pleaded. The tears started rolling down your cheeks before you could stop them. You felt pathetic.

"Oh, sweetness." Toji rolled to your side, grabbing you and pulling you into his chest. He sat up slightly, and you straddled his lap, crying into his neck. His large hands cascaded down your back, reaching down to grip your bum before gliding all the way up to your hair. "We don't have to go. Would rather have my girl all to myself anyways," he murmured into your hair.

After a moment, you pulled back, and Toji wiped the wetness away from your cheeks with his thumb. "I really don't get what you see," he said. "I think you always look beautiful, no matter what you're wearing." He snuck a peak down at you now, in just a bra and underwear. "Or not wearing." He winked.

You smiled at his perverseness, before glancing down yourself. "But look at my tummy." You grabbed the plush skin.

"What about it?" Toji narrowed his eyes at you, before taking a hand away from your back to grip his own tummy. "I've got some rolls there too. We're sitting. That's normal."

"Barely," you scoffed.

In one swift movement, Toji had you on your back, blowing raspberries into your stomach. You giggled and squirmed, pushing his head away. "You weirdo!" You squealed. "Toji, c'mon, stop it!"

He lifted his head, hooking his hands behind your knees and tugging you towards him. "Your tummy is cute. You're cute." He splayed a hand across your torso. The proximity to your lower region made heat pool in your core.

And, you were slowly starting to believe him.

"Okay, okay fine." You rolled your eyes. "I guess...I'm not so bad looking."

"Not so bad?" Toji scoffed. "Doll, you're a smokeshow."

"You're so old," you laughed at him. "Nobody even says that anymore."

"Don't expect me to go easy on you just because you were crying a minute ago," Toji chuckled darkly, happy to see that you were getting back to your snarky self. He roughly lifted your hips, yanking your panties down your legs. You giggled excitedly as he lowered his head between your thighs.

"Let me show you just how beautiful I think you are."

Me when I receive princess treatment