husband byakuya with baby fever !
a/n ：im obsessed with him you have no idea ／（if you can't tell , this was EXTREMELY self indulgent）
ever since the rukon district, byakuya has not been quite himself. something soft and unfamiliar settled in his chest that day, and it has not left since. seeing you there, cradling that tiny infant so gently, so naturally, made his breath catch in a way he could not quite understand. it was not discomfort, not really. it was warm and strange and a little overwhelming, like a quiet ache blooming beneath his ribs. you looked so… right. so tender, so maternal, like you were made for it. and it made a thought take root, one he could not shake no matter how much he tried to push it away.
no, not just any child. yours and his. something small and soft that belonged to the both of you.
now, the room is dim and quiet, the kind of stillness that wraps around you like a blanket. you and byakuya are tucked together beneath the covers, meant to be drifting off to sleep. but instead, he shifts slightly in your arms, pressing closer than usual.
it is different tonight. he is different tonight.
byakuya kuchiki, who always prefers to be composed and distant, who always holds you rather than being held, is curled against your chest instead. your arms are wrapped around him, fingers threading softly through his dark hair, and he does not protest. if anything, he leans into it just a little more.
“..y/n,” he murmurs, his voice quiet and careful, like he is testing the weight of your name on his tongue.
“yes, kuya?” you whisper back, your hand still moving gently through his hair, soothing and slow.
there is a small pause. you can feel it in the way he breathes, in the way his fingers curl slightly against you.
“have you ever thought about having kids?”
your hand stills for just a second.
“…sorry?” you let out a soft, awkward laugh, blinking down at him in surprise. of all the things you expected him to say, that was not one of them.
byakuya sits up slowly, his expression thoughtful, brows drawn just slightly as if he is trying to piece his feelings into something coherent.
“have you thought about being a mother?” he asks again, quieter this time, but just as direct. “about having children… my children?”
you cover your face for a moment, a little flustered. “stop… you do not have to say it like that again,” you mumble, peeking at him through your fingers. “i mean… maybe? i think every wife has thought about it at least once. why are you asking?”
he hums softly, gaze drifting downward for a moment before returning to you. then, gently, almost hesitantly, his hand comes to rest over your womb.
the touch is light, almost reverent.
“i want to have children,” he admits, his voice softer than you have ever heard it. there is something vulnerable tucked inside his words, something small and honest. “or even just one… i do not mind.”
his fingers press just slightly, as if trying to imagine something that is not there yet
“when i saw you in the rukon district… holding that child…” he pauses, lashes lowering faintly. “i could not stop thinking about it. you looked so natural. so gentle.”
his eyes lift to meet yours again, and there is a quiet warmth in them that makes your chest feel all fluttery.
“i want to see you like that again,” he says softly. “but this time… with our child.”
you blink at him for a moment, his words settling into your chest all warm and heavy, before something softer bubbles up instead. your lips curl into a small smile, and your fingers gently tilt his chin upward so he has no choice but to look at you.
“awh…” you giggle quietly, your thumb brushing along his jaw. “has this been what’s been weighing on you this entire time? making you act so weird?”
there is no teasing bite in your voice, only warmth, only fondness.
byakuya’s brows knit together ever so slightly, a faint flush dusting across his cheeks at your words. “i have not been acting strange,” he replies, though his voice lacks its usual certainty.
you hum, clearly unconvinced, leaning in just a little closer. “mhm… really? because i do not remember my very composed husband suddenly wanting to be held like this,” you murmur, your arms tightening around him just a bit. “or asking me about babies out of nowhere.”
your laughter is soft, light, like a quiet melody in the still room.
his gaze flickers away for a brief second, and you swear you catch the smallest hint of embarrassment on his face. it is subtle, but it is there, and it makes your heart feel all fluttery.
“…it has been on my mind,” he admits after a moment, more quietly this time.
your expression softens instantly.
your hand leaves his chin only to cup his cheek instead, thumb brushing gently beneath his eye. “you could have just told me, kuya,” you whisper, smiling at him in that same gentle way.
he leans into your touch without thinking, eyes lowering slightly. “it is not something i am used to speaking about,” he says.
“i know,” you murmur, your voice fond. “that is why it is cute.”
that earns you the faintest look of offense, though it is quickly overshadowed by the softness still lingering in his expression.
“it is not meant to be ‘cute,’” he says, though there is no real bite to it.
you only giggle again, pressing your forehead lightly against his. “maybe not,” you whisper. “but you are.”
for a moment, he says nothing, simply watching you, something quiet and warm settling in his gaze again.
and then, almost hesitantly, his hand finds yours where it rests against his cheek, holding it there.
“…and you?” he asks softly. “have you truly thought about it?”
your smile lingers, but this time it is a little more thoughtful, a little more shy.
“…maybe,” you admit, your voice just as soft. “especially when i think about you as a father.”
his grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly at that, something unreadable flickering across his face, though the warmth never leaves.
“…then,” he murmurs, bringing your hand a little closer, pressing it gently against his lips for just a brief moment, “i will allow myself to hope for it as well.”
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