It’s been three hours since it happened, and the fury has yet to subside. If anything, the silence in your shared apartment is making it worse, fanning the flames of your irritation until you feel like a walking, talking inferno. A very pregnant, very uncomfortable inferno.
It started simply enough. You were heading to the kitchen for your fourth glass of water in the last hour – this baby was apparently determined to turn your bladder into its own personal water park. That’s when you caught it: a low chuckle from the living room sofa.
You paused, one hand on your burgeoning belly, the other on the small of your back, trying to alleviate the ever-present ache. “What’s so funny?”
Sukuna’s laughter wasn’t the full-throated, arrogant sound that usually echoed through your home. No, this was a suppressed, wheezing thing, the kind of laugh that happens when you’re trying desperately not to, which only makes it a hundred times worse. He was buried in his phone, but his shoulders were shaking.
“Nothing,” he managed to get out, his voice strained.
You narrowed your eyes. “It doesn’t sound like nothing. What are you laughing at?”
He finally looked up, and that’s when you saw it. The glint of amusement in his crimson eyes, the smirk playing on his lips. He was trying to school his features into something neutral, but he was failing spectacularly.
“It’s just…” He gestured vaguely in your direction. “The way you’re walking.”
The air in the room seemed to crystallize. You could feel your blood pressure skyrocket. “The way I’m walking?” you repeated, your voice dangerously low.
“Yeah,” he said, and the idiot actually chuckled again. “You’re waddling.”
And that was it. The dam of your carefully maintained composure broke.
“Waddling?” you shrieked, and you were vaguely aware that you sounded like a tea kettle reaching its boiling point, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “I am not waddling! I am carrying your child! A human being! Do you know how much this weighs? It feels like I’m smuggling a watermelon, and you’re over there, laughing at me?”
The smirk on his face finally vanished, replaced by a look of dawning horror. He’d been with you long enough to recognize the signs of an impending hormonal meltdown. He slowly put his phone down, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“Okay, okay, baby, I’m sorry,” he said, his voice placating. “It was a stupid thing to say. You’re not waddling. You’re… gliding. Like a majestic, pregnant swan.”
“A majestic, pregnant swan?” you repeated, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Do I look like a swan to you, Sukuna? Do I?”
He wisely chose not to answer that question. He stood up, crossing the room in a few long strides, and tried to pull you into his arms. You sidestepped him, your arms crossed over your chest (or, as much as you could with your belly in the way).
“Don’t touch me,” you snapped. “I can’t even look at you right now.”
And that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? You were furious with him, so angry you could spit nails, but the thought of actually being away from him was unbearable. Your hormones were a tangled mess of contradictions, and you were just along for the ride.
That’s when the idea struck you. It was brilliant in its absurdity, a perfect solution to your current predicament.
“Go get a paper bag,” you commanded.
Sukuna blinked. “A what?”
“A paper bag,” you repeated, pointing a finger at him. “From the pantry. The big ones we use for recycling. Go get one.”
He looked at you as if you’d grown a second head, but he didn’t argue. He knew better than to argue with you in this state. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later, holding a large brown paper bag.
“Okay,” he said, holding it out to you. “Now what?”
“Put it on your head,” you said, your voice deadpan.
He stared at you, the bag dangling from his hand. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
He sighed, a long-suffering sound that you had become very familiar with over the past few months. He unfolded the bag, and with a final, defeated look in your direction, he pulled it over his head.
And so, here you are, three hours later. Sukuna is sitting on the sofa, a paper bag over his head, and you’re on the armchair opposite him, still fuming. The silence is thick with unspoken words, a testament to the ridiculousness of the situation.
You have to admit, it’s a little hard to stay mad at a man with a paper bag on his head. Every so often, you can hear him sigh, a muffled sound from within his paper prison. You’ve made him cut eyeholes in the bag, so you know he’s watching you, but you refuse to meet his gaze.
“Are you still mad at me?” he asks, his voice distorted by the bag.
“Yes,” you say, your voice clipped.
“It was a joke,” he says, his voice softer now. “A stupid one, I’ll admit. But I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It wasn’t funny,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, and you hate it. You hate that you’re so emotional, that you can go from rage to tears in the span of a few seconds.
“I know, baby,” he says, and he sounds genuinely remorseful. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
You sniff, trying to hold back the tears. “You’re just lucky I love you,” you mumble.
“I know,” he says again, and you can hear the smile in his voice, even through the bag. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”
He stands up and walks over to you, the paper bag rustling with every step. He kneels in front of you, and you can feel his hands on your knees, his touch warm and familiar.
“Can I take this off now?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.
You hesitate for a moment, then nod. He reaches up and pulls the bag off his head, and you’re met with the sight of his handsome face, his eyes soft with affection. He leans in and kisses you, a slow, tender kiss that makes your heart melt.
“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.
“I love you too,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “Even if you are an idiot.”
He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through you. “I know,” he says.
And as he pulls you in for another kiss, you know that he’s right. He’s your idiot, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if he does make you want to strangle him sometimes.
an: y'all my favorite influencer is pregnant and i got this idea when i saw her waddle cause its so cute ughhh
and it hasn’t even been a full month. you literally just gave birth to your son yuji 2 weeks ago.
“we should just leave him, let him have the house” his voice is rough with sleep.
you chuckle lazily, you also just woke up from the loud wails of your two week old newborn.
sukuna sits up his faded pink hair frizzy, short but it’s all over the place. his eyes are also closed, “im gonna run away.” he mumbles as he turns to face the wall.
you let out some sort of sound as you stretch and rub your eyes. “mhm?..”
“your not even listening, is this my life now?” he scoffs and stands up and walks to the corner of the bedroom to the crib.
you open your eyes and pout, since you had a natural birth you’ve been a bit sore and sukuna has been 100x more crankier because he hasn’t been getting what he’s been wanting.
he also feels like a little teenage boy, having to sit in the bathroom quietly to “deal” with himself.
to be fair you did warn him before he got you pregnant “we would have to wait six weeks, the sitches would have to heal, my uterus has to also heal and you wouldn’t want your wife to have any infect-“ you were cut off with a kiss, to be fair you didn’t think he was listening in the first place.
when it comes to your body, if sukuna gets the go ahead every word after that is blurred out, and you’ve personally tested that theory.
a couple minutes later, the baby is..
drumroll pleaseeee..
still crying, you groan and get up with a wince and waddle over to the crib where sukuna is shushing yuji. if you could cry- oh and your crying.
sukuna slowly turns to you and sighs wrapping his arm around your shoulder, his quiet way of soothing you.
you take yuji from sukunas arms and kisses his forehead and hum quietly and rock him in your arms. yuji slowly quiets down as your skin touches his, the familiarity soothing him.
10 minutes later your eyes are closed as you lean on sukuna and yuji is asleep in your arms. “woman, get up.” you open your eyes slowly and yawn. “oh, sorry..” “tch, why are you sorry?”
you shrug and slowly place yuji back in the crib, quietly both of you slowly tip toe back to bed.
back to your previous comfortable positions, your lying down and sukuna has one of his huge arms over your waist his chest to your back.
Dad!Kuna is having a girl! Is that why you've been tasting so sweet during your second pregnancy? || MDNI 18+
part one || part two
can be read as a standalone
During the fifth month of your second pregnancy, you could finally check your baby's gender – the day you've all been impatiently waiting for! However, Sukuna seemed to be more excited than you – sitting on a stool in the doctor's cabinet with a shaky leg and furrowed brows, watching the cold gel getting spread around your bump.
He was almost sweating, squeezing your hand as if you were meant to give birth any second. Eyes following the incoherent mass carefully, squirming on the small, grey screen.
And when the word girl finally dropped... dear heavens.
Sukuna almost fainted, and two male nurses needed to support the massive body of your husband not to hit the floor.
It gave you flashbacks from the first pregnancy with your son, when your always-so-tough-husband shed tears of happiness and fainted the second your son was taken out of you. He woke up an hour later, curled on the hospital's bed right next to yours.
"I knew it," he mumbled, turning the car on and driving out of the clinic's parking lot. "I knew you we're going to have a girl."
You scoffed, glancing at his flushed cheeks and smile plastered to blooming face. "Well, you already built her up a whole fairy-themed room, so I guess there was no other option."
As the great carpenter he was, in recent days, Sukuna enjoyed nothing more than cancelling his clients' orders and sitting all day in a garage, building the furniture for your baby. He did the same with your son's room, always taking pleasure from fulfilling his child's dearest wishes to have a dragon-shaped bed.
But, well, you may ask how Sukuna knew that his second child would be a girl?
Aside from being a perfect girldad, of course?
Your pussy tasted much, much sweeter than during the first pregnancy.
Don't get him wrong – he always loved diving deep between your folds and slurping on your sugary juices, but... how to describe it... this time you've really outdone yourself.
It tasted like strawberries dipped in whipped cream. The freshest peach, with sticky juices dripping down his chin, or those chewy raspberry candies his son liked so much. Like warm summer nights with the smell of freshly baked cherry pie, you loved to prepare for your little family.
Although every time he mentioned the changed flavour of your pussy, you were smacking the back of his head and calling him a pervert.
But he swore to god – your taste really did change.
So on the same evening, with your son already tightly tucked in (after the last incident, Sukuna decided to cover his room in soundproof sponge), he could finally prove his theory.
"I told you, baby," he murmured, locking your legs around his neck. "I told you we're going to have a girl."
You moaned, feeling his tongue sliding in between your drenched folds. Your back plastered to the mattress, hips slightly lifted up with a pillow, pregnancy bump completly covering your husband's head between your legs. Pregnancy sex was one of the best and possibly most humiliating ones, but Sukuna could swear to god that nothing made him harder than your fat thighs clenching his hips and swollen belly carrying his child. And although you tried to fight him – Kuna stop, I look so fat – every night he proved to you that the sight of your jiggly ass and plump tits was enough to make him cum.
That's why now, laying on a bed and brushing his leaking dick against the mattress, he was already losing his mind.
Because you tasted so fucking sweet, with honeyed juices sticking to his tongue and dripping down the throat. Your moans were making his feet curl and mind go blank whenever you squeezed around long fingers, pushing out even more of sugary cum.
Every time he sucked on your clit, your hips waved gently, and lips fell open, with the loveliest cry filling the bedroom.
"Mhm, K-Kuna, fuck, feels so good–mhmmm."
"Baby, you have no idea how fucking good you taste. Let's do a blind taste-test, and I swear – won't be able to differentiate your pussy from a honey."
You wanted to smack his head, but when his finger curled inside, your back curved in a delicious arch. He wasn't even filling you with his cock, and yet, nothing made you crazier than his mouth feasting on your cunt.
He truly acted like a beast, slurping, sucking, whimpering, licking your hole clean, mumbling that I knew, fuck, I knew it's going to be a girl, and we're definitely having a third child.
Oh, he was having a sugar rush!
"Can't wait to suck on your tits, fuck. Your milk tasted so good last time, I wonder if it'll be even sweeter." His whines went straight to your clit, sending a wave of trembling pleasure through drenched walls. Fingers, now two, pushed sweetly right against the g-spot, making you ride his face even more frenzied.
It was maddening, so, so pleasurable, with his filthy moans and brush of hips making you absolutely crazy.
So when a final pitched moan rolled through your lips and back arched, a gush of the sweetest juices flooded Sukuna's mouth. When the first droplets hit his drenched tongue, it was enough to make his cock burst against the mattress. He really didn't like to cum anywhere else than deep inside your pretty cunt, but your heavenly taste was enough to make him shudder in pleasure.
"K-Kuna–mhmmm–w-wait don't drink it!"
But how could he not, when your cum tasted so good? He licked you clean, not letting a single drop slip through his hungry tongue. And with big hands massaging your belly, sticky cum filling his briefs and heart-shaped eyes, he finally took a deep breath and rested on your chest.
"Baby, forget about the coffee, I want to drink this every single morning."
it's actually no surprise — either awake or asleep, you're always all he can think about. right now, you're somewhere in hawaii, sprawled under the sun, and you've got on that bikini that you bought for your honeymoon that always drives him crazy– wait.
he looks around, confused, "where are the kids?" he asks you, as you take a sip of your drink. you frown. "what kids? we rented this beach for ourselves, remember?"
if he thinks hard enough about it, he can almost remember it. "I... yeah, yeah, you're right. sorry." he lays back down, and for some reason he's so tired he feels like he could sleep through the next hundred years. "I think I'll take a nap."
you frown, extending a hand to put it over his chest, "are you sure, honey? a nap? you've just woken up."
he blinks, putting a hand over yours, "...I did?"
papa.
he jerks up, making you yelp, and looks around — nothing. the beach looks as empty as before. "the fuck was that?"
you look concerned. "what was what, kuna?
papaaa!
he screams, "that! that voice! don't you hear it?"
you get up from your sunbed, putting your hands over his shoulders gently, "honey, you might want to lay down, I think the sun got–"
SLAP!
"papa!" yuuji giggles, "you're awake!"
sukuna blinks at his son, and realises he's on the verge of tears — fuck, he was having such a good sleep... "yuuji... did you just slap me?"
"I did!" the gremlin says, proud, "you wouldn't wake up, daddy. were you dreaming?"
"I was," he says, already missing dreamland, "I was having... a really nice dream." the kind you have when you don't sleep more than two hours a night for weeks. he’s so tired that he doesn’t even have the strength in him to cuss him out for waking him up.
he lets out a little oooh! "I bet you were dreaming about me, daddy."
kinda. more about making you. "...yeah, brat, whatever."
"I bet mommy was there, too!" his eyes dart over to the other side of the bed, where you're sleeping blissfully, and he begins to climb the bed, "I'll wake her up and tell her–"
your husband jumps up, protecting you from the attack of your own spawn, and picks him up to drag him out of the bedroom, "let mama rest, yuu," he says, voice full of sleep and cheek stinging, "she's tired." handling a newborn and a toddler is no joke. "why are you awake? it's, like..." he spares a glance at the clock hung up in the hallway, "four in the morning."
he frowns, looking a lot like a very distressed you, "kenji woke me up."
sukuna’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead — were the two of you so tired you didn't hear your son fussing? "did he, now?"
by the time your husband enters the nursery with yuuji clinging onto his leg, your youngest is red all over his face, fussing like the spoiled brat he is, and promptly lets out a loud fart when sukuna picks him up. the latter stares down at him, unblinking, with the same deadpan he usually reserves for clients who piss him off to the end of the day. "I'd let you live in your own shit, but then again, your mother would have my head for that."
"shit!" yuuji sing-songs, sitting on his foot. his father flicks his forehead. "none of that."
it's actually too early for all of this.
kenji almost succeeds in peeing on him during the diaper change, and once his new nappy is set, he shits in it again. yuuji nearly starts crying when he gets told that he can't have candy for breakfast at four in the morning, but settles to munch on his high-rate sugar cereals on the couch as he watches bluey while sukuna tries desperately to settle kenji.
by the time you wake up, you're met with the sight of your husband and your two children (or rather, gremlins) sprawled all over him on the couch, a box of cereal fallen onto the ground. your husband is snoring — loudly, at that — but your spawns are no lesser feat than him, as they drool and, too, let out little snorts in their sleep.
kneeling down beside his head, you brush his hair out of his face. "kuna."
he whines. "what?"
"I'm taking the kids back to bed."
he does not protest when you take kenji out of his arms first, setting him down on the bassinet of his nursery, nor when you pick up yuuji and tuck him back in his own bed. by the time you come back to the living room, your husband is only half-awake, staring blankly at the wall.
you chuckle quietly, "do you need me to carry you back to bed, too?"
slowly, he shakes his head, opening his arms without a word. you settle down over him without too much grace, but with the way he immediately engulfs you in a hug, you doubt he minds. "I had the best dream of my life tonight," he hums, lips pressed against the crown of your head.
you hum, eyes still crusty with sleep, hands over his broad chest as you press your cheek against his pec. "do tell me."
"we were on vacation," a kiss over your head, "on a private beach," another on your temple, "with no kids." a last one on your cheek.
"don't talk dirty to me so early on in the morning," you moan, side-eyeing him, "we won't be able to have that in, at least, two years — weaning yuuji off was a nightmare, and kenji's still a baby, but I just know he won't be easier to handle."
"a man can dream," sukuna sighs, head dropping back to the pillows behind his back.
you tap his chest, amused, "well, you were the one who begged to come inside multiple times–"
"do not remind me of my mistakes, woman," he lets the argument die down as soon as it started, too tired to even complain. he rubs his cheek against the top of your head, "two years," he sighs, "two years, and I’ll have you all to myself again– in a skimpy bikini, hopefully."
you raise an eyebrow. "I wasn’t aware my presence was valued only when I’m wearing a bikini," you tease him.
he grunts. "normally, it isn’t. when I’m sleep deprived and horny, however…”
soft papakuna!! ᰔ ᩚ. currently rewatching fullmetal and seeing nina and the dog w the elric brothers inspired me ᰔ ᩚ. masterlist ᰔ ᩚ.
"you have bested me for the last time..mutt".
sukuna folded his arms, his imposing frame looming over the dog as he sized it up.
"papa, nice words!", his three year old pointed an accusatory finger at him as if to warn him, her other hand patting the fluffy dog whose back she was sitting on.
sukuna clicked his tongue. how was he supposed to be nice to a dog that was not only humongous for no reason, reaching sukuna's waist easily, but was also trying to kidnap his daughter in broad daylight?!
"i'll be nice once i get my daughter back", he took a step forward, his scowl growing deeper. "you have 5 seconds to surrender, demon beast".
"5..4..3..2–"
"go doggie go!", the little girl bounced ever so slightly, her giggles echoing through the garden as the dog raced around, mistaking its life or death situation for playtime.
never in a million years did you think you would see your six foot something husband, doused in tattoos and piercings chase an animal like it had just committed a heinous crime.
"what...the hell is going on?", not like any of them could hear you, they were too preoccupied with chasing and being chased.
sukuna nearly collided with a garden chair as the dog bolted past him again, your daughter shrieking with joy, clinging to the fluff like a tiny war general on her war beast.
"y/n! call off your devil dog before i shave it into a rug", he opted to let you handle it because if he handled it, there would be endless tears from his daughter and a bunch of 'missing dog' posters hanging around the neighbourhood.
you shook your head and let out an exasperated sigh at his antics before letting out a whistle.
"here boy!", and just like that your 'devil dog' came to your side.
"we win!", your daughter flailed her arms in the air before copying you and rubbing the dog. "i win papa!".
"losing to a glorified mop that thinks this is all a game? absolutely humiliating", he grimaced, staring daggers at the dog who now sat by your side, tongue lolling absentmindedly as if to say 'look at me i'm the goodest boy!'.
he hated it. sukuna hated it.
it took you days of relentless begging and pleading before he finally gave in and got the dog—especially after you threatened ryomen sukuna himself with withholding all physical affection for an entire week.
and this is what he gets?
his carbon copy approached him, hands behind her back and a sweet smile that he could never dream of saying no to.
“papa, since i won..can you buy me ice cream pretty please with a cherry on top?”, she clasped her hands, eyes practically sparkling.
You snickered when you saw how sukuna shot you a look with an expression that said ‘really?’. he’d definitely noticed how she picked up that phrase from you.
“tell me first. who do you prefer? Me or the beast?”, he posed the question, scooping the girl into his arms.
“you papa!”.
“and if i said no to ice-cream?”.
“you!”, she wrapped her arms around his neck as best as she could. “you’re the bestest papa ever!”.
