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#delicate skin care for newborn
curekadigital · 4 months
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 Caring for Baby's Skin: The Wonders of Sebamed Gentle Wash
As a parent, ensuring the well-being of your precious little one is a top priority. One essential aspect of baby care involves choosing the right products for their delicate skin. In this regard, Sebamed Gentle Wash emerges as a true wonder, providing a perfect balance between effective cleansing and the utmost gentle
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Sebamed extra soft baby wash is formulated by German baby skin care, researched, and curated by dermatologists.
Provides specialized solutions for baby’s delicate skin thus maintaining skin health.
Provides the lipid support baby’s skin needs supports the natural lipid balance the skin’s protective barrier remains intact as the pH is maintained at 5.5.
Promotes the development of acid mantle and supports the baby’s delicate skin.
Dermatologically tested and clinically proven to reduce dryness.
Clinically proven to provide 51% increased skin hydration compared to other liquid soap on baby's skin.
Direction of use:
Take 1-2 ml of baby wash on your palm and dilute it with 2-3 ml of water.
Gently massage the whole body with the diluted solution for 1-2 minutes to ensure gentle cleansing and hydration.
Gently Rinse thoroughly with water and pat dry with a towel.
Sebamed Gentle Wash is a dermatologist-recommended baby skincare marvel that maintains natural balance, ensuring comfort and well-being.
To buy the product online visit cureka:
https://www.cureka.com/shop/wellness/baby-care/baby-wash/sebamed-baby-gentle-wash-for-delicate-skin-400ml/
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chuluoyi · 6 months
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soft gojo meeting his newborn hc, pleaaasee??
࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:10 P.M 」
soft dad!gojo drove me to have another baby fever for the ntn time. you just have to put this idea in my head don’t you dear anon~
a part of gojo's love entries
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the thing was so tiny, precious and squishy. it fit right in his hands, so red and fragile, almost like a toy—
only it was not. it was a real, living baby. his son, partly made by his own flesh and blood—his to protect.
“hello to you, my little minion,” satoru whispered to his newborn, wonderstruck by the sight of this small but clearly alive being. his eyes glazed, his fingers delicately tracing the baby's face, body, and tiny feet. “i’m your dad, yeah?”
his own soft voice sounded foreign to him. but at this moment, as he was utterly mesmerized by the sight of little human that just came out of you, his beloved wife, he couldn’t care less.
he had always imagined how his brat would look like. he even joked with you about how he’d get his good looks—and heck, the gods did hear him and this baby in his arms was the most handsome baby he had ever seen, blessed with his white hair and softest skin, as well as the rosiest cheeks.
his only dismay was that he also inherited the bluest of eyes, the curse in his family line.
well, but that’s a problem for another day.
he settled his newborn into the hospital's nursery crib, and nudged his pudgy cheeks once again. not even half a day had passed since he was born, and gojo satoru had developed a severe cuteness aggression for his son. he swore he’d spoil him rotten, shower him love he never truly experienced from his own parents, and of course, keep him safe.
with his heart full, he left the baby as he slept, and went back to your room.
in the very same predicament as your baby, you were still fast asleep. you were visibly exhausted, your hair was a tangled mess, and there was a line of dried blood along your lips—caused by accidentally biting them too hard earlier, during your labor pains.
even in the state of disarray, satoru still thought you looked ethereal, too good for him.
he ran his fingers through your hair, smoothing them, and he regretted it when your face scrunched up and your eyes fluttered open. “…hmm? satoru?”
“hey, sweets. how are you feeling?”
“i still feel like being split into two… but yeah, i’ll manage.”
“shush, of course. you feel that way often, each time when i—”
“don’t,” you warned, glaring at him. “i just birthed your heir, gojo satoru. don’t even start.”
satoru burst into a laugh so hearty and he realized he truly loved this dynamics with you. and that he was grateful for you.
he wanted to thank you for all that you had done for him. for returning his feelings. for marrying him. for going through that pain to bring his son to the world—
and most of all, for still being here. for staying alive to live another day with him.
“i saw him just now. our baby is perfect.”
“really? i want to meet him too…”
“soon, sweetheart... when you’re a little better, i’ll take you to him.”
but he wasn’t the best with words. and so even if he were to pour his heart out, everything would be condensed into this one sentence.
you were excited at the prospect of meeting your baby, when suddenly satoru leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead.
“i love you so damn much… you know?”
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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months
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Imagine how distraught snow would be if his wife had a really rough time giving birth to their child where she’s coming in and out of conscience and there’s blood and he’s terrified she won’t make it like his mother leading to him hating the baby for a little bc of how badly his wife was recovering sorry for the angst! Ignore this if uncomfortable <3
forever winter |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: as requested, troubles with child birth leaves coriolanus very cold towards your son.
contains: angst. mentions of parental death, blood, complications during birth. darkish coriolanus. kinda fluffy-ish end?
Coriolanus knew the horrors of childbirth. He knew the dangers, the risks. He’d seen the blank stares of a new mother rocking her baby, eyes blank and distant like she’d been through war. He’d heard the solemn whispers in a dim room, quiet and hushed, darting eyes that looked everywhere but the casket- sometimes two. His own mother had been torn from his grasp at a young age because of it, and for a while, he was sure he’d never let his own wife experience it. 
Then he met you. 
You who lit his world up from the inside out, who he rose only each day to see- to love. You who cradled a baby at your engagement announcement, a friend’s newborn, held him so naturally and delicately that it ignited something inside Coriolanus. He wanted a dozen babies with you, he decided at that moment that he’d do anything to make it happen. 
You’d blossomed so naturally, swelled up overnight. Round belly and a glowing demeanor- it was addictive to Coriolanus. How he’d brag, boast proudly to anyone who’d hear it- his wife pregnant, he couldn’t be happier. 
All those fears, worries, were replaced with new ones. Horror stories about infants, toddlers. His own consuming thoughts about being a father. The idea of childbirth was nothing but a fading thought to him. That had been in the war, technology was better, he was in a better place. Your father had ensured his darling daughter would have the best of the best- you always did. The best doctors, the best birthing suite, the best nursery- the best. 
But money couldn’t buy your own body betraying itself at birth. It didn’t stop the bleeding, the paling of your skin as you fluttered in and out of consciousness. 
You’d grunted like an animal, tearing yourself into two for hours, cursing Coriolanus’ name, begging him to make it stop, crushing his hands with your legs up in the stirrups, pushing your baby out. 
Coriolanus was in awe of you, though he’d never get the chance to tell you. How you’d willed yourself to hurt yourself, inflict that selfless pain to bring life into the world. It was positively poetic. 
He’d been so overjoyed hearing your babies gargled cry, the nurses announcing its gender- his gender. His son. A boy. A beautiful boy, wailing and delicate and covered in matter that Coriolanus didn’t even care about when he held him close to his own chest. 
“What is it, Coryo?” You muttered, eyes drooping, chest heaving with aftershocks of pain from the birth. 
“A boy, my love.” Coryo’s eyes shone with tears, lips pressing together to conceal it. “It’s a boy. Our boy, my darling.” 
“A boy…” Your speech was slurred, head lolling back onto the pillow. 
Coriolanus noticed for the first time how still the room had become, his son’s wailing the only sound. The nurses and doctors, once chipper and gleeful, now bearing a sickly paleness to their face, eerily quiet. 
“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus snapped, eyes wide, frantic, bouncing around the room. “What’s happening?” 
“We-We can’t find-” The doctor’s voice shook, ducked between your legs in a pile of crimson. Coriolanus’ stomach turned violently. 
“She’s bleeding. We-We can’t find where the bleeding is.” The nurse whispered. 
“What?” Coriolanus snapped. “Bleeding? H-How can she- Find it!” The baby wailed over the sound of Coriolanus’ demanding barks. 
“President Snow, we-we’re trying our best-” 
“-Try harder.” Coriolanus sneered, clutching the baby closer to his chest. “If anything happens to my wife, I will single handedly ensure your bloodline ends with you. Each of you will know what it feels like to lose your family too if you lose her.” He spat, sending the nurses and doctors into a fearful frenzy. 
The newborn wailed, doctors shouted, and Coriolanus’ ears rang, his chest too tight, painfully tight. He couldn’t lose you, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t survive that loss. His eyes fell to the screeching baby beneath him, scrunched face and wailing gums. How was he to raise this baby without you? 
Anger boiled through his chest at the sight of his son- his fault. A cowering nurse, frozen in shaking fear in the corner, watched him carefully as he stormed towards her. “Take this.” Coriolanus sneered, shoving the baby in her arms. 
He hated the feeling, the helplessness that consumed him as he stood, wide eyed and shaking hands he clenched into fists. 
Somewhere, somehow, the doctor found the bleeding, stopping it with a triumphant cry. “Get the blood, get the blood!” He shouted, head hooked over his shoulder. “Infuse it now!” 
Coriolanus wasn’t sure he could remember how to breathe. Memories of the two of your: the moment you met, the first date, his shaking hands asking for yours in marriage, the way you beamed under your veil at the altar, the same glow that you had when you told him you were pregnant. It could all be gone so easily. Had his father felt this way? So helpless? 
Maybe that’s why he’d been so hardened and resentful, so he’d never feel attached- never allow himself to feel so helpless. 
Coriolanus decided he couldn’t blame him, sitting in this chair, watching as you rested. The doctor said there’d be a lot of that in the coming hours. That you’d gone through trauma and you needed time. He wanted to rip you from the bed, shake you until you awoke and told him you were ok. He needed to hear it, maddenned himself with the need for it. 
Instead, he sat. 
Coryo sent the baby out to the nursery. He knew your parents, Tigris, everyone waiting would be thrilled to see the baby boy. Coryo just couldn’t muster the feigned excitement now. The site of his own son made his stomach turn, fear soaked repulsion settled deep in the pitt of his own core. 
Somewhere in the night, you awoke. A rustling and a groan that had Coriolanus snapping out of his dazed sleep, head tucked to his shoulder, slumped in the chair beside your bed. 
“Don’t move.” Coryo commanded, eyes a kind of bright, frantic wide that had you stilling. 
Your throat burned, head dizzy with the medicine they’d pumped into your system. Coriolanus’ hands shook as he brought you the water, hand cupping your jaw gently to feed it to you. You blinked, bleary with confusion. “You’re alright, my love.” Coriolanus' heart swelled, suffocatingly in his own chest. You were alright. 
“Coryo,” You croaked, throat tight, rasping from before, you were sure. You remembered the birth, most of it anyways, the blurry memory of your baby in Coryo’s arms before your memory failed. “The-The baby… Is he alright? W-Where’s my baby?” 
“He’s with your parents, my love.” Coriolanus’ hand smoothes down your matted hair, sticky with dried sweat. “Nevermind him. How are you? Is anything wrong? Do you need anything? I-I’ll call for the nurse.” 
You shook your head, looking around the room. The sheets were clean, your gown clean, but you felt an achy soreness splitting you in half. “What happened?” 
Coriolanus felt the lump in his throat grow, strangling his words in his throat. “Y-You had some complications, darling.” He swallowed the burn of his own tears down in his throat. “You were bleeding but they stopped it.” 
You blinked, unmoving, soaking in the details of your injury. Coriolanus watched you with a studying glare, eyes scanning for any tiny, minor infliction that something was wrong. “Is-Is the baby ok?” You whispered, eyes shining with fear when you met his gaze. 
“The baby’s fine.” Coryo snapped, harsher than he meant to. It alarmed you, your eyes snapping to his carefully. He took a deep breath, holding your hand carefully into his own, thumb running over your knuckles. 
“He’s fine.” Coryo said, softer this time. “I need to know how you are. What do you need from me, my love? What can I do to make it better?” 
You squeezed his hand lightly, your strength weaker than normal. It made Coriolanus’ spine tingle with shooting chills of concern. “I want to see my baby.” You whispered, head leaning against Coryo’s shoulder. 
“No,” Coriolanus shook his head furiously. “No, you-you need to rest, and-and not be bothered by the baby-” 
“-Coryo,” Your eyes rounded, so pitifully pleading Coriolanus would have walked through fire for you if you asked him to. “Please? I just want to see our baby.” 
And how could he say no? He couldn’t, so instead, Coriolanus called the nurse in. Your parents, proud grandparents, holding the baby, tutting over you. Everyone flitting about the birthing room, Tigris even gleaming with joy at the birth of her nephew. All except Coriolanus, who watched in the corner of the room, a stoic look on his face. 
You looked positively radiant, glowing with joy as you held your son. As if that baby hadn’t nearly killed you, Coriolanus wanted to scream the reminder to you, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t dare upset you, risk upsetting you in front of your family. 
“Coriolanus,” Tigris’ soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts, brought him away from his own sinking, heavy feelings of disappointment. “Are you alright?” 
“I’m fine, Tigris.” Coryo’s voice was tight, firm and forced, like the look of awkward contentment he tried to paint across his features. 
“You… You haven’t held your son.” Tigris hesitated, voice dropping softly so the others wouldn’t overhear. 
“I don’t wish to hold him right now.” Coriolanus sneered. 
“He is your son, Coriolanus.” Tigris hissed, her voice dropping to a low hush in the room, terrified you or the others might hear. 
“And he almost killed her.” Coryo’s eyes flashed to Tigris’ in horrified rage. “Nearly fated her as my sister did my mother, and if you think for one second I am to be happy at that, then you are-” 
“-Coryo,” Your voice croaked, still weak and tired. It made his heart lurch, attention on you in a second, already walking towards your bedside. 
“Yes, my love? What do you need?” Coriolanus muttered. Normally, he’d be embarrassed, showing such affection especially in front of your parents, but he hoped they’d pardon his vulnerability in the moment, given the circumstances. 
“Look at him,” Your eyes shone with love, pure adoration, as if you weren’t cradling the very thing that almost killed you. It made Coryo sick. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” 
Coriolanus looked down at the small newborn, wrapped in swaddles, eyes closed and lips twitching with the faintest whimper of a cry. He looked so much like you, so much like himself- the perfect blend of the two of you taking your lips but Coriolanus’ nose. 
His heart swelled with pride before he could help it, lips curling in a half smile. He’d grown weak, Coriolanus decided, softened by you and your love. He should be disgusted by the baby, despise him and reject him like an animal in the wild would. But he couldn’t bring himself to it. 
“A fine young boy.” Your father boasted, nodding proudly. “The two of you should be very proud.” 
“Yes,” Coryo swallowed around the lump in his throat. You leaned into his touch, shifting the baby so he could better see him. 
“Any idea on the name?” Your mother hummed, moving beside you. 
“I still think Cyrene would be fitting.” You’re beaming, beautiful and proud when you meet Coriolanus’ gaze. “What do you think, Coryo?” 
“Yes,” Coryo nodded. “I think that would be a fine name.” 
“Cyrene Snow,” You cooed, pressing your nose to the baby’s, pressing a gentle kiss there. Your eyes brimmed with tears when you met Coriolanus’ gaze. “Do you want to hold him, darling?” 
“Are you getting tired?” Coryo watched you carefully. “Do you feel alright?” 
“Yes,” You nodded. “I don’t want to hog the baby. Want you to have a chance too, darling.” 
“That’s alright.” Coryo shook his head politely, suddenly very aware of your parents and Tigris’ gaze on him. “You hold him, my love.” 
You frowned lightly. You knew something was off with Coryo, the tightness in his tone, lips falling in a flat line. You waited until later, when Cyrene lay in his bassinet, your family all gone for the night, just you and Coryo in the birthing suite. 
“Why will you not hold him?” You asked through the still darkness. Coriolanus' eyes snapped to yours fiercely, startled by your tone. 
“Excuse me?” 
“Our baby.” You groaned when you sat up, Coryo rushing to your side. 
“You need to be careful-” 
“-You won’t hold him, Coriolanus.” You gripped his arm, eyes shining in something new- something Coryo wasn’t certain of, but it made his stomach twist. “Why?” 
Coriolanus swallowed, the lump in his throat suffocating him. “The last time I held him,” Coryo’s voice was soft, rasping in the quiet room, barely above a whisper. “You nearly died.” 
The room was still, far too still for either of you to find comfort. A harsh, shocking truth for the both of you, sickening and cruel. Your near damned fated reality, Coriolanus’ worst fears, the peaceful baby resting in the bassinet besides the two of you. 
Pressed into the side of your hospital bed, Coriolanus held you carefully, a stilled reminder that you were still there, that you hadn’t left him. The icy wall he’d built high for his son melted with every soft coo and whisper you gave him, a reminder that you were still with him and would be. 
When Coryo finally held Cyrene again, when he’d stirred awake and you were asleep, he turned to the window overlooking Panem’s Capitol, eyes shining with tears- of regret, joy, pain? Even Coryo wasn’t sure, but he rocked his son to sleep carefully, promising him that one day, he’d have what Coryo had. That he wouldn’t leave him the way his father had, that he’d keep him safe, teach him how to keep you safe.
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lilleluv · 1 year
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The Ultimate Guide to Baby Skin Care: 10 Questions Every New Mother Asks
Welcoming a new baby into your family is an exciting and joyous time. However, it can also be a bit overwhelming, especially when it comes to taking care of your baby’s delicate skin. Newborns and infants have very sensitive skin that requires special attention and care. In this ultimate guide to baby skin care, we’ll answer 10 common questions every new mother asks about their baby’s skin. How…
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fumikoshi · 2 months
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His little princess
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✧ — SUMMARY; His part of life, his little princess finally born.
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As the nurse carefully placed the tiny bundle into his arms, Gojo's heart swelled with emotions he had never experienced before. His daughter, with her delicate features and tiny fingers, seemed to encapsulate all the beauty and fragility of life in that moment.
In the hospital room, the soft sound of a newborn's cry filled the air. his piercing blue eyes filled with a mixture of awe and tenderness as he watched the nurses swaddle his daughter in a pink blanket.
He felt an overwhelming sense of duty sweep over him as he gently cradled her to his chest. This tiny being, his daughter, was now his responsibility to protect and nurture, as well as lead through life's hardships and joys
With shaky hands, he reached out to gently stroke her cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin. The baby leaned on his touch and cooed.
As he held her close, Gojo made a silent promise to be the best father he could be, to shower her with love and support, and to always be there to catch her when she fell.
With loving eyes he looked at his wife sleeping in the hospital bed, careful not to wake her, and settled into the chair next to her with the little baby in his arms. After watching his beautiful wife for a while, he turned his gaze to his little princess: snuggled against her father's chest, sleeping peacefully in his arms… he couldn't help but let his eyes fill with joy at the adorable sight.
"You are so tiny, mochi. But don't worry, papa will protect you and mommy from everything and everyone. I will never let you get hurt. "
He leans and kisses her forehead
"Papa will buy you beautiful dolls, clothes, shoes, and everything you can think of. I will make sure you live a very good life, my little princess~"
In that moment, as he held his daughter in his arms for the first time, Gojo knew that his life would never be the same again. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
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rinbowaman · 5 months
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Baby Fever
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Warnings: breeding kink, rough smut implied, smut-ish stuff, some minor choking, smut talk (breeding smut talk...if yk...yk). MDNI this is only for the grownups (18+).
Authors note: this drabble is canon to the HHP storyline > : ) I had this in mind for a few days and wanted to quickly draft it for yall to hold you guys off until the treat comes out this weekend 😉
What a gorgeous morning it was; the sun beaming brightly and the fresh, crisp Spring air filled with the chirping of birds, and the newborn flowers blooming in greeting. You woke up alone, figuring Heeseung was downstairs in the kitchen, considering the minor commotion you overheard from the bedroom. You got up and figured that on the first day of Spring, what better way to greet your lover than to wear the dress that he absolutely loved seeing you in. It was a purple mini floral, rather form fitting despite the subtle empire waist line, which gently showed a hint of your curves. The front had a stringed, lace front that tied the scoop neck line together, cradling your breasts and proposing the faint curves of your cleavage. It was both sexy, and pretty, especially when paired with sheer, black, thigh-high stockings, edged with a beautifully elegant damask pattern that subtly hid beneath the hem of your short dress. Your hair was left freely down, since that was the way he always preferred you wore it. He loved your hair.
Every single night, he would run his fingers through your strands, rubbing them together to savor the silkiness of the texture. He never cared to use a brush because it took away the pleasure of feeling that softness of your locks. The way he would drape the length of your strands over his knuckles and rub it against his cheek, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo, which always ended with him leaning in to suck on the back of your neck. If anyone should think that his behavior with your hair is absurd, you wonder what they would think when he looks into your eyes, or take his time to feel your skin...guess that will be saved for another story.
After conducting your morning hygiene, you walk down the stairs. Gripping on the ball tip of the large banister, you playfully swung your way around to face the open view of the kitchen and dining area, immediately making eye contact with Heeseung.
He smiles as he stands on the opposite end of the large kitchen island, with his palms plastered on the surface top and leaned over just slightly over a mug, more than likely containing his favorite coffee drink. He was dressed all in black, a black fitted tee, lightly tucked in black fashionable fitted cargo pants, with a black hat. The lines located at the corner of his lips was all that the bill of his headpiece would allow you to see as he smirks upon seeing you enter the kitchen.
"Oh, y/n! It's so good to see you."
Shocked by the voice from the side, you turn to view over shoulder and saw Steve, one of the frat tenants that lived with Heeseung and the other roommates.
"Hi Steve. When did you come back from vacation?" you ask with a delicate smile as you greet him, when a young woman appears from behind him with a small bundle locked in her arms. "I got back last night, it was so late and I didn't want to wake anyone so I stayed at a hotel. But, let me introduce my sister, she just had a baby two months ago and was in town so I decided to bring her over to meet everyone."
You smile gleefully as you greeted Steve's sister. "Oh nice to meet you." you delicately spoke as she does the same. "It's nice to meet you, your y/n, right? Steve was just introducing me to Ethan and mentioned you, it's so good to meet you."
Your peripherals caught on to Heeseung remaining stagnant in his stance, eyeballing you, Steve, and his sister, Lauren. He takes a sip out of his cup, his eyes never breaking away from you.
"How far along in college are you?" Lauren asks, in which you respond sweetly as you both continue talking about college life. Heeseung remained as he always did when around other people, a bit standoffish and quiet, glaring over and keeping an eye on you. At least he was being a bit more pleasant since he knew Steve, being roommates under the same roof for years now. It was typical, everyone, including the frat tenants, all knew that Heeseung "Ethan" became a walking malice since he began dating you, and it was evident that he cared for no one or anything other than you...you wonder what they would think if they ever knew that there indeed, was an "Ethan" entity that was more than just an english version of his birth name.
"Would you like to hold the baby?" Lauren gains your attention back as she presents her bundle of joy. "Oh...um sure." Cradling the small child, you held him tightly as you cupped him against your bosom. "Wow, you're so good with him." she remarks surprisingly as she straightens her dress and heads to the bathroom to freshen up.
That was to be expected. With all the time spent babysitting for your neighbors while in high school, you were quite used to holding and handling a newborn baby. You sat down on the dining chair and laid the baby against your chest, gently patting and rubbing his back, all the while he drifted off with his head nestled against the crevice of your cleavage.
"Looks like you're ready to be a mom." Steve joked aloud, meanwhile Heeseung kept sipping on his coffee, occasionally eyeing you from the corner of his sharp gaze.
"Noooo." you chuckled out. "I used to babysit for my neighbors, they had a baby that I would look after often." You explained, keeping eye contact on the baby's soft head as you gently palmed the back of it, rubbing the tip of your nose against it.
After some time went by, Steve and Lauren departed to spend a day in the old town, leaving you and Heeseung alone in the frat house. With all the other tenants away to enjoy the ongoing Spring festivals, the house was completely empty, and would be that way for the entire day.
"Can we go out for a walk?" you ask as Steve and Lauren walked out the door. Heeseung gently sets down his cup and issues a subtle nod. "Okay, I'm going to get my phone." you smiled out as you walked up the stairs, with him slowly following close by. Guess he needed to get something from upstairs as well.
He opens the door for you, a traditional habit, and allows you to walk in first. Halfway in the room, you barely caught your breath as you felt a sudden shift in motion with a firm lock around your waist. Nearly levitating you from off the ground, Heeseung swooped, and flung you on his bed, following suit and hovering over your body as you turn to face him. You stutter out a gasp from shock as your hair lays in a massive spread, with a few delicate strands across your face. There, you were met face to face with the devil.
His eyes dark, and his smirk was devious, but you could tell by the minor shine in his iris, he didn't swap over to his other side. The bill of his hat kept the shadow to grace over his face as he stares down. With one hand gripping your shoulder, the other reaches up and starts to pull the string tie at the front of your dress. He pulls, dreadfully slow as you feel the flap of your scoop neckline coming undone; one by one, he pulls each string until the opening was completely loosened. Your nipples peek from beneath the expanded laced string as your dress holds its remaining form. The hem was rolled slightly up from the swing of his strength when he threw you on the bed, exposing those thigh high stockings in full. Chuckling deeply, he pulls the last string on your dress as he spoke out in a shallow tone. "Does my girl want to be a mommy?"
You shook your head subtly. You were just being helpful, there was no way you thought about having children, besides, it was far too early considering you were still in your first year of college, not to mention you were still on birth control.
"N-no..."
"Mm...I think you do." he responds in an antagonizing manner and gently shifts the pieces of hair away from your face. He props himself steady with his palm plastered on your collarbone, and raising his body to rests on his knee caps. There, he takes advantage of your already spread thighs, and reaches in under your dress to scoot your lace panties off to the side. Once you were completely exposed to the cool air, he reaches in and with flickering fingertips, he tickles the sensitive flesh in between your plush folds. You gasp and moan out soft giggles, as did he. With a dark chuckle and biting down his lip, he remains propped to display the full sight of his abdominal region, where you admired the view of his hand reaching down, gently unzipping his black trousers, and his strong veiny hands fishing out the massive and swollen muscle that caused you to gasp at the mere sight of it. You reached up, grabbing onto his forearm as he remained on your collarbone, feeling his thumb swiping over the contours of the bone. Anticipating for what he was going to do, you felt yourself riddling with a burning sense of desire and passion.
You watched as the girth of his shaft and the bulbous tip disappear under the material of your dress as he leans in, and feeds it through, piercing your fleshy barrier until it finally makes its way in. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and speaks against your skin, "no more taking birth control."
"Uh...uh huh...."
"I wanna hear you say it."
"I-I'll get....get off it..."
"Let me take care of you....let me fuck you."
"Mm...mmhmm..."
He raises his form and once more, he props himself up by the extension of his forearm and palm planted beside your head on the bedspread. With his strong hand, he raises it as the tips of his fingers drag along your skin. Gently, with his fingers gracefully wrapping around your throat, he gives a faint squeeze, just enough to make you gasp a separate moan. With a dark and devilishly handsome smile, he gleams under the shadow of his hat; there it was...that eerie and rather handsome smile of malice and passion formulates on that face of his.
"Ready?"
You nod somewhat hesitantly. Bracing for intense pleasure, you knew all too well what was about to come, especially when feeling the throbbing sense of his tip as it barely lies inside you. "Y-yes...yes daddy..." you whispered, grabbing hold of his wrist as you prepare for a momentum that is unlike anything this world could replicate.
"Yeah?...come here, let’s do this, mommy."
> : )
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sunshinesteviee · 7 months
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quality time - s.h.
summary: steve has some quality time with his newborn wc: 1.1k warnings: descriptions of steve's scars, dad!steve & mom!reader a/n: so i'm pretty sure this was originally a request from an anon literally forever ago, but i cannot for the life of me find the ask, i'm so so sorry! it's been a while since i've posted, so just a lil something for y'all. hope you enjoy! <3
Masterlist
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“You wanna hold him again, love?” you ask your husband in a murmur, barely able to pull your gaze up from your newborn. He’s tiny and perfect, and you just can’t get enough of him, even after a couple of hours. 
Steve’s perched next to you on the bed, one strong arm around your body. His thumb traces short, gentle lines over the hill of your shoulder, nose pressing against your temple as he gazes down at your son, “Mhm, yeah, if—“
“You better not be saying ‘if it’s okay with me’, he’s your son, too, Steve. Here, you take him,” you elbow him gently, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. It’s adorable, but totally not necessary. 
His cheeks flame red as he carefully takes the bundle of blankets from you, sheepish as he mumbles, “That’s not what I was gonna say—“
“Save it, baby, I know you better than that.”
He huffs but doesn’t say anything, immediately drawn to his baby boy in his arms instead. He looks like a mini version of you, your nose and eyes that he loves so much; it makes his heart grow ten times bigger. He does have a full head of hair that’s definitely the Harrington gene, though. And maybe he has Steve’s lips, too. 
Steve pulls his arms up, pressing a kiss to his head gently before he moves towards the chair in the corner of the room that he’s claimed as his. Just as he’s about to settle into the chair, a nurse enters the room to check on everyone. She smiles at the sight of your baby boy in Steve’s arms and says, “You know, there’s a lot of benefits of doing skin-to-skin with your newborn. Especially for dad and baby. Helps to regulate baby, and is great for bonding with your baby. Wanna give it a try?”
You expect Steve to say no. Not that he doesn’t care or doesn’t want to, but you can count the number of times you’ve seen him with his shirt off in public on one hand. After his time in the upside down, he’s marred with scars. Deep ones that eat into his sides and pucker his skin, that are rough and not pleasant to look at. The first time he’d gotten up the courage to take off his shirt at the pool, scars still fresh and pink, he’d gotten incredulous looks and nasty stares. He’d quickly learned that it was better to keep his clothes on to keep the questions to a minimum. He wasn’t ashamed, it was just easier that way. The only times Steve took his shirt off in public was if it was around people who knew what had happened, and even then, sometimes he didn’t want to. The scars were a reminder of all the shit they’d been through, and sometimes it was easier to pretend they didn’t exist. 
So, to say you’re surprised when Steve immediately agrees is an understatement. You watch in shock — and admiration — as Steve hands your son back to you for a moment so he can pull his shirt over his head. In fact, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him remove his shirt so quickly, even after all your years together. The bite-shaped scars, though not as prominent as they once were, are on full display, still slightly pink and raised against his tan skin. If the nurse notices, she doesn’t say anything; she only smiles, suppressing a laugh as Steve trades you his shirt for your son. 
He takes him carefully, as if your son is made of glass and could break at any moment. He handles him so delicately it makes your heart burst, and you cradle Steve’s shirt to your own chest. Steve finally sits down, placing his little boy in his lap so he can unwrap the blankets and get him out of his tiny onesie. It’s so small that it nearly makes you cry, even more so as you watch your husband lift your son back up and lay him against his chest once the onesie has been set aside. 
He pauses for a moment, not quite comfortable in the chair yet, eyes flicking to the nurse in the corner of the room as he asks, “It’s not— he’s not gonna be too cold, right?”
“Not at all! Skin to skin is actually great for regulating a baby’s body temperature. He’ll be just fine.”
Steve considers what she’s saying and then nods, finally leaning back into his chair, holding your boy to his chest, “Yeah. Okay, yeah, that’s good.” For someone who had been almost as terrified about being a dad as he was excited, he’s taking to it quickly, just like you knew he would. You knew his insecurities had more to do with his parents than his own ability to be a parent, and so far, he’s already proving himself wrong. 
The newborn scrunch is in full effect, your son’s tiny limbs tucked mostly underneath his body against Steve’s chest. He looks content, and you honestly can’t blame him — Steve’s chest is also one of your favorite places to be. Your husband looks just as content; one hand covering the entirety of your son’s back, fingers behind his head for support, the other hand on his small, diaper-covered bum to keep him in place. Steve’s eyes flutter closed after a few moments, settling back into the chair comfortably.
There’s a Polaroid camera sitting on the bedside table next to you, and you reach for it so you can take a picture. You want to remember this. Not only for the sweet moment, but also for Steve’s clear and immediate love for his little boy. The noise of the camera is a lot louder than you anticipated, and Steve cracks one eye open, sending you the best fake glare he can muster with just one eye. It’s ridiculous and it makes you laugh behind your hand, not wanting to wake your sleeping baby. You murmur a half-hearted apology as the picture prints, not really meaning it. 
Steve snorts his own laugh, his chest moving enough for your little boy to grunt quietly in protest, shifting his position against Steve. Quick to soothe, Steve pats at his tiny back gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I know, I know, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mama’s interrupting our quality time, huh? She had nine whole months with you, and she just has to interrupt us.” 
“Steve,” you giggle, shaking your head as you hold up the now developed picture, “I was trying to capture the moment!”
“Shhh, we’re bonding!”
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yuutx · 12 days
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POPS IN AND WAVES
hi athena!!! :3
athena i hope you’re doing well…… you are the next person on my list!! athena… hands on ur shoulders…. athena… hear me out.. jjk papas :33
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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃 ! (𝑀𝒰𝐿𝒯𝐼𝒫𝐿𝐸 𝒞𝐻𝒜𝑅𝒜𝒞𝒯𝐸𝑅)
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gojo satoru, nanami kento, sukuna ryōmen, choso kamo, okkotsu yūta x f!reader ノ sfw content. ノ sfw + children ノ mentions of childbirth ノ established relationship ノ married couple ( husband + wife ) ノ gojo + newborn baby ノ nanami + newborn baby ノ choso + toddler ノ sukuna + toddler ノ yūta + newborn baby ノ pure fluffy content ノ not proofread ! ꒰ᐢ˵´ ˆ `˵ᐢ꒱
maryse ! this is literally s' fuckin cute ? ! 'm goin thru sum insense bby fever rn, u gave me the motivation 2 finally write a fic liek this ! ! plus, 've been needing 2 write fluff :(( sum characters are shorter fics, not biased jus' wrote watever came 2 m' mind ! i hope u enjoy reading, m' lovelies ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
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A tiny hand clung onto his index finger, a look of pure wonder on a small, chubby face that gazed up at him. The newborn in his arms was barely a week old, small enough to fit in the crook of his elbow and still red from the warmth of her mother's womb. He could feel the delicate grip the child had on him, her little fingers wrapping around the one his finger was hooked onto. Gojo's thumb was gently rubbing along her palm, an affectionate action that was meant to coax her into sleepiness.
Her bright eyes looked at him, not seeing him fully, but still searching him out.
"Hello, my little love," Gojo said quietly, smiling at her. She looked up at him, her lips puckering a few times before settling back into a neutral expression. She was quiet, content in his hold and enjoying the new sensation of her father holding her for the first time. "You're so cute," he murmured, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
His smile grew when he heard her make a noise. It was a small sound, something a little less than a squeak but not quite a whimper. A noise of surprise. He leaned back and saw that her eyes had fluttered shut, her tiny brows furrowing together as she shifted in his arms, her grip tightening. The movement brought her closer to his chest, and with his shirt partially open, her cheek brushed against his warm skin. She opened her eyes a fraction, the contact sending a small wave of comfort through her. Her head tilted, the baby trying to find the spot where his heartbeat was the loudest, her eyes fluttering shut once again when she did. Gojo smiled, shifting his hold on her so that his free hand was supporting her head, the palm of his hand covering the entire top of her small head. He watched his daughter for a moment, enjoying the peace between them before a small tug on his hand reminded him that his little love wasn't the only one he had to take care of.
Looking over his shoulder, Gojo saw you, laying back on the hospital bed, the sheets rumpled under you. Your arms were limp at your sides, exhaustion evident on your features. Despite this, you still managed a tired smile when you saw him looking at you. You nodded towards the infant in his arms.
"You two bonding..?" you asked, your voice a raspy whisper. The smile on his face grew at the sight of you. You looked absolutely stunning, despite the fatigue, and it made his heart skip a beat. He had been in love with you for so long, and to see you as a mother, the mother of his children, made him fall in love with you all over again. He hummed, stepping closer to the bed and leaning down to brush a tender kiss across your forehead. You reached up and wrapped your fingers around his wrist, keeping him close to you for a moment longer.
"We are," he replied, "She's perfect, baby.. she's a mini version of you." His voice was a quiet murmur, the words for your ears only. Gojo felt your lips curl into a smile against his skin, the simple action sending a jolt through his body. You pressed another kiss to his cheek, and he turned his head so that your lips met. It was a short kiss, a sweet one, and when he pulled away, he saw that you were fighting to keep your eyes open. Gojo let out a soft chuckle, and with one more kiss to the tip of your nose, he turned and stepped away from the bed. He knew that you needed sleep, and the last thing he wanted was for you to exhaust yourself while you were still healing.
"Get some rest, baby," he told you, "I'll be right here with her." He could see the uncertainty in your eyes. You knew that Gojo had never changed a diaper, or given a bath to a baby, or even fed one. But you also knew that he was a natural born caregiver, and that his heart was in the right place.
"Okay.." you mumbled, relaxing against the pillows behind you. Your fingers slid from his wrist and back onto the bed. You watched as Gojo moved across the room, rocking your daughter in his arms and murmuring quietly to her, his voice low and gentle. It made your heart flutter, and you were sure that even though you couldn't hear the exact words he was saying, they were sweet and full of love.
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Nanami was quiet as he gazed at the little one in his arms, a soft smile upon his face. The child was asleep, her tiny chest rising and falling with each breath she took. He could see the way her dark eyelashes fluttered against her skin, and the way her hands were curled into tiny fists. Her squishy cheeks were tinted pink, and he couldn't resist the urge to touch her. His fingertips were gentle, lightly brushing over the baby's cheek.
"What are you thinking about, hm?"
Nanami looked up and saw you, his wife, a soft smile playing at the corner of your lips. You was standing in the doorway, your arms folded over your chest. It was a simple pose, but it was one he adored. It made you look powerful and beautiful, a combination that made his heart flutter.
"How lucky I am to have you and her," Nanami answered, nodding down at the sleeping infant. The child in his arms was theirs, a beautiful creation born out of the love they shared. You were still recovering from childbirth, and while Nanami could tell that the physical pain was subsiding, there was a lingering exhaustion that followed.
You smiled, your cheeks tinted a light pink as you approached him, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to him. Your arm wrapped around his waist, and you leaned against his side. Nanami leaned his head against yours, a content sigh escaping him. He was happy, incredibly so, and it showed. He was more relaxed, and despite the chaos that a newborn could bring, he was at peace.
"I'm the lucky one.." you murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw, "You're an incredible father, and a wonderful husband.." You turned your head and pressed another kiss to his cheek. When you leaned away, Nanami looked at you. Your eyes were shining, the same love that had drawn him to you in the first place still burning bright.
"I love you," he said softly, the words making your cheeks turn an even darker shade of red.
"I love you, too, Ken.."
Your gaze then fell to the baby, your little one, and you reached out to caress her soft, fuzzy hair. You were gentle, and Nanami watched the interaction with a warm, full feeling in his chest. He felt complete, his life filled with everything he could've ever wanted.
"And we love you," you continued, smiling at the sleeping baby, "Our beautiful girl.."
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With ease, Choso tied up his daughter's hair, his fingers nimbly tying the silky strands into two little buns to match his own. The little girl was sitting in his lap, her eyes on the screen as she watched a show, completely enthralled. His chin rested atop her head, his arms wrapping around her little body. "We're matching, kiddo" he said, his voice a soft murmur. His daughter giggled, wiggling a bit to get more comfortable in his hold.
"I know, Papa! You did my hair like yours!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbly and cheerful. Choso's lips curled into a smile. He always thought that perhaps he should change the way he looked. His style was rather unique, often attracting the judgemental eyes of those who didn't understand him. But his daughter, his beautiful little princess, was one of the few people in his life who loved him no matter what. "We look cool, right?!" she asked, twisting her neck so that she could look up at him, her eyes sparkling with joy. He felt his heart grow in size, warmth blooming in his chest. The happiness in his little girl's face made him feel proud, and it only made him love her more. He hummed and gave her a nod. She beamed.
"Yes, little one, we do." he agreed. Her smile grew, and she leaned back, her back hitting his chest as she let out a little cheer.
As Choso looked at the buns on the top of her head, he couldn't help but reminisce about how far he had come. As a cursed being, the offspring of a monster, he had always assumed he'd spend his life alone. No one would love a 'thing' like him, he used to think. But as he sat in his living room, holding his daughter and watching her favorite cartoon, he realised that he couldn't have been more wrong. You had seen something in him that no one else had, and after years of being together, you had given him a family. Something he had never imagined he would have. He had a wife, a daughter, and the best home a man could ask for. He was surrounded by love, and the idea that this was just the beginning of his life made him giddy.
"Papa?" his daughter's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked, his gaze focusing on her face again. "We gotta show mama!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement, "She'll think we're awesome!! 'N then you can do her hair too!!"
A chuckle left his lips and he nodded affirmatively, the smile on his face never fading. "Sure, little one," he replied, "Let's show mama.."
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"..Papa!"
A soft gasp escaped him when the door to the bedroom creaked open, and Sukuna watched, frozen in shock as the small toddler waddled her way into the room. Her little hands were pressed to the wooden door, pushing it open as she toddled inside. She was clad in a pink onesie, the soft material making her look like a little marshmallow. Her dark hair was in disarray, a tangled mess on top of her head, and Sukuna was sure that her bright eyes were puffy from sleep. He was surprised by the sudden appearance of his daughter, the child having been tucked away in her bed a couple of hours ago.
The door opened all the way, and her face lit up at the sight of him, her cheeks growing rosy with joy.
"Papa!" she called out to him, her hands balling into fists and raising them towards him, a silent request to be held.
Sukuna was quick to get to his feet, moving across the room with the grace of a tiger, his steps quiet and measured. His hands were gentle as he picked her up, holding her close and tucking her into the crook of his arm. As soon as he was holding her, her arms were around his neck, her tiny fingers tangling themselves into his hair. Sukuna let out a soft laugh, pressing a tender kiss to the side of her head. Although he was feared by most, he was a doting father, and a kind lover, his love for you and your child growing every single day. His life had taken a turn for the better the moment you stepped into his life, and the arrival of your little princess had only brought him joy and a new reason to live.
"Why aren't you in bed, hm?" he asked her, his tone a soft, soothing one, "You should be asleep, baby girl."
Your daughter looked at him, a small pout forming on her lips, a frown pulling the corners of her mouth down. It was the same look she gave him whenever he was reprimanding her for getting into trouble, and the sight made him smirk.
"Bad dream," she answered, her voice a mumble. Sukuna hummed, and began to move, rocking his body gently from side to side as he did, the movement helping soothe the child. His hands were gentle as he rubbed along her spine, his large palm spanning across her entire back. He could feel the way she melted into him, her body going slack as she relaxed.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, knowing that sometimes talking about her nightmares could help her get over the fear that she had felt when she woke up. Your daughter was a quiet one, and she kept most things to herself, a trait she had inherited from him. It wasn't easy to coax her into telling him what she was thinking or feeling, but Sukuna had gotten the hang of it.
He could feel the way her little head moved, shaking from side to side, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of her head.
"Alright. Come on, I'll tuck you in."
"No," came her reply, her voice muffled against his neck, "Wanna sleep with you 'n mama."
Sukuna was unable to hide his amusement, and a small smirk pulled at the corners of his lips.
"Is that so?" he teased, earning a nod in response.
"Yes."
"And why is that?"
"Cause you 'n mama make me safe," she mumbled, and her arms tightened around his neck, her tiny form clinging to him. It made his heart melt, and he held her a little closer.
"Okay, you little monster," he said softly, a small laugh escaping him, "We can do that. Mama won't mind, don't worry."
Your daughter relaxed even further into his hold, and with the gentlest of movements, he slipped his hand under her legs and carefully tucked her in right beside you, ensuring that she was safe and warm. Your daughter looked at you, her eyes searching your face for any signs of wakefulness, and when she was satisfied that you were asleep, she nestled herself into your side, her hand clutching the fabric of your nightshirt. Sukuna climbed into the bed beside her, the little girl squished comfortably between the two of you.
Sukuna watched her, his crimson gaze studying the peaceful expression on her face, his hands moving to cradle her head, his thumbs brushing along her cheeks, a loving caress.
"Night, night, papa.. love you.."
"Love ya too, little one.."
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Yuuta's nose bumped against the infant's forehead, the action drawing a soft giggle from the child. The baby was wrapped in a swaddle, her little legs kicking at the air as she lay in the middle of the bed. Her hands were reaching out, trying to grab a hold of the strands of his hair, her little fingers grasping at thin air. Yuuta smiled at her, leaning forward to press a tender kiss to the tip of her button nose, a small gesture that never failed to draw a babble from her. "Daddy loves you, angel," he murmured, his eyes twinkling with adoration. He reached out and ran a gentle finger along her round cheek, the softness of her skin reminding him of a pillow. He couldn't help but laugh. Her entire face was chubby and round, and her green eyes were a mirror image of his own. Yuuta was completely enamoured with her, his heart having grown twice its size the moment he first held her. "And mommy loves you too," he added, his tone a soft whisper. "So very much." The infant gazed up at him, her hands falling onto the blanket that was wrapped around her. "Bah," she babbled, her voice light and full of love. Yuuta smiled. He would never tire of hearing her gibberish.
At that moment, you swooped in, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your face to his back, the gesture reminiscent of a koala.
"What're you two doing in here?" you asked, peeking over his shoulder to gaze down at the bundle of joy in the middle of the bed. Your baby was looking up at the both of you, her eyes wide and curious. She let out a tiny squeak, and reached her hands up, her chubby little fingers wiggling. You let out a giggle, and pressed a kiss to Yuuta's shoulder. "Look at you," you continued, a smile on your face, "Prettiest daddy alive, aren't you?" You teased, making his cheeks flush a deep red.
Shyly, he turned his head to look at you, and you could see the embarrassment written on his face. "Don't say stuff like that," he murmured, his eyes averting yours, "It's embarrassing.." He could feel your gaze on him, and the way you nuzzled your face against his back was enough to make him shiver.
"I can't help it, Yuuta," you said, your voice soft, "I've got the most beautiful husband ever, and a gorgeous baby that he helped create. It's only natural that I appreciate you, baby.." You could feel the way he stiffened, his cheeks burning a brighter shade of red. Yuuta let out a shaky sigh, his shoulders slumping. It was clear that he was embarrassed, and the fact that you could have such an effect on him made your heart skip a beat. Slowly, you stepped away from him, moving to scoop the baby off the bed and into your arms, the child cooing as you held her. "Besides, you deserve to hear how much I love and adore you.." You whispered, a smirk playing on your lips.
Yuuta looked at you, his eyes wide and his cheeks still tinted pink.
"But-" he began, only for you to shake your head, a look of mock seriousness on your face.
"No buts, baby. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," you told him, "You and our baby.."
".. You two are the best things that have ever happened to me too.." Yuuta admitted, his gaze flickering down to the sweet thing in your arms, "I couldn't ask for a more perfect life.."
With that, you stepped towards him, and Yuuta wrapped his arms around your shoulders, his chin resting atop your head as you held the infant between you, her eyes blinking sleepily at the sight of her parents. "And it's only the beginning, my love," you murmured, a soft smile on your face. "The best is yet to come.."
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sofiahchan · 1 month
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How would Deepspace boys act when their wife (MC) is in labour? ( ͡° ʖ̯ ͡°)
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— 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋
Rafayel was letting you hold his hand tight as he was sweating, he simply doesn't know what to do. He is nervous, offering you anything you want, even if it's a small piece of napkin or water. He would always give you a lot of praise while you gave birth. How come your journey together ends here, yet you have a new start? He feels so happy and so nervous right now in this moment that he will be a dad.
Rafayel knows only the basics of what childbirth is, he knows there's blood, but he never expected there to be too much blood or for it to take so long. He hates seeing you in agony or pain, and he hates it even more that he can't do anything to help what you are feeling except be there and let you squeeze his hand tight as much as you want.
Looking at you, he could notice how you’re panicking inside. He tried his best to comfort you, making sure you were comfortable and knowing how much he’s proud of you. He’s grateful to have you as his wife and now the mother of his child. When the sound of a baby crying can be heard, Rafayel can feel his eyes getting teary as he stares at his newborn baby. He can't stop praising how strong you are, he is fully overjoyed. He lets you hold the baby in your arms. Performing the skin-to-skin contact as he looks down on such a memorable sight. I was thinking how adorable it is that now he has a baby that is a mixture of you and him together in your arms. evidence of how you both love each other and are willing to raise a child together. Finally, he gives you a comforting kiss on your forehead while keeping an eye out for you and his new little sunshine.
— 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 
Zayne knows what you need most during pregnancy. Heating pads, pillows, even your favorite food? You named it. He got everything prepared for you, ensuring that your pregnancy would go smoothly as he tried his best to help you out. Even if he’s busy, he always answers your texts and calls quickly, making permission letters to the higher-ups so he can take care of you without neglecting his work too. In your final moments, he would still ensure that you have all the stuff that’s needed. He offers you a glass of water with a straw and even a handkerchief to wipe your sweat. Giving you a gentle squeeze as he holds onto your hand.
In his free time, he tries to learn more about your pregnancy, including which month you will be able to identify its gender, in which month you will need more supplies, and about the last trimester of your pregnancy. He convinced himself that everything would go well, so he had to be ready to deal with whatever challenges might appear. This way, he would always reassure you that everything would go well for the baby and yourself.
Once he sees the baby inside the hospital bassinet, a warm smile appears on his face. He was pleased to see the blessings that are now given to both of you. A warm hand suddenly lingers on your head, and you can feel how he is caressing your hair. He gave you a soft kiss on your forehead as he looked down at you. Looking down at you and the baby inside the hospital bassinet next to her hospital bed, “How lucky I am to be blessed with such a strong wife,” he whispers as he holds onto one of your hands.
— 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑
Xavier’s gentle nature shines through as he conceals his inner nervousness with a tender smile reflecting in his eyes. Not wanting his emotions to overshadow the moment, he soothingly murmurs words of encouragement not only to you but to the little life growing within your womb. With a caring touch, he delicately sweeps strands of your hair behind your ears, a gesture filled with affection and tenderness. Embracing you in a warm hug, he holds you close, his embrace a source of comfort and security as he endeavors to create an atmosphere of relaxation and ease for you.
He is struggling to avert his gaze from the unfolding scene, fully aware that the sight of blood could easily cause him to lose consciousness. Imagining a different scenario where you were not experiencing labor pains, this whole situation might have a hint of humor to it.
Seeing the tiny baby on his arms, Xavier held his tears as his fingers closed up to the baby's face, watching him pick it up. "He's so cute and lovely; you did a great job." You see Xavier smiling while hearing his praises for you and hoping the baby looks more like you. After going through all that, Xavier tries his best to cook for both you and the baby for the first time. He managed to make something edible and started to spoil you with his home-made food.
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frantic-fiction · 2 months
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Hi!! I love your astarion stories so much, you are such a talented writer!
I have a bit of a weird request for an 18+.
I've heard theories that if a vampire like astarion drinks enough human blood that there's a slight chance he's able to get someone pregnant 👀 ...
I'm wondering if you could do a smut like something along the lines of astarion having a huge breeding kink, so he and Tav are experimenting with him drinking maybe more than he should of her but it's worth it if they have a chance at having a kid or something? Basically just asking for a smut about astarion having a breeding kink🥺
thank you so much for all you do!! Once again like I said you are so talented, and if you do decide to do something with this I'd love to be in the tag list.
Okay first off, this comment is everything thank you. You are just too nice I can't 🥰....and well I had so much fun writing this so I hope you like it lovely!
I Want 18+
Warnings: SMUT MDNI, Breeding kink, fingering, dry humping, slight daddy kink if you squint, Astarion being lovesick, slight dom/sub maybe? idk
Word Count: 2.5k of pure filth
Mastarlist
It started with a chapter in an obnoxiously repetitive book about vampires and their spawns. You had gifted it to him with a poorly concealed giggle on your lips. 
Most of the content was either incorrect or exaggerated, and Astarion couldn't help but chuckle at the foolishness of it all. He was ready to throw the damned thing into the fireplace when his eye drifted over a passage.
Dhampirs: Creatures born from the union of a human and a vampire. The conception is incredibly rare, but the likelihood increases if the vampire indulges in a significant amount of the human's blood prior to sex. 
Now, it can't seem to leave Astarion's mind. The idea of you being pregnant, being able to watch your stomach swell with his child, witnessing your breast grow and your hips fill out. How sensitive would you get as your pregnancy progresses? Would you crave him more than you do now? These thoughts alone have him throbbing in his trousers.
However, what sealed Astarion's fate was seeing you with Gale's newborn baby girl. The way love filled your heart the moment your eyes landed on that little girl sleeping soundly in the wizard's arms. How delicate you cradle the young one's head as soon as she's in your grasp, softly cooing down at the little bundle, stroking the smooth pink skin of her cheek. 
And when you turned to him with that sweet smile that never fails to make Astarion weak in the knees, asking if he wishes to hold baby Dekarios. How could he say no? 
Astarion never cared for fatherhood, but the moment that baby girl was in his arms, opening her eyes with that dopey, toothless smile, he was done for. And when she grabbed his pointer finger with her tiny hand, gripping it lightly with all her strength. Astarion knew he wouldn't stop trying until you were carrying his child.
You were finishing up the dishes, hips swaying to a tune only you could hear. The summer heat had you in shorts that fell just below the swell of your rear and a sheer top that revealed your lack of a bra. It's been a week since the visit to the Dekarios, and Astarion can no longer hold back the desires that burn deep in his body. 
Astarion approaches silently, a predator stalking his prey. You rub your nose on your shoulder, trying to scratch an itch while your hands are covered in suds, groaning in annoyance when that fails to help. 
Gods, you're adorable. 
You're so carefree and relaxed, looking so soft, warm, and delicate. All open to his wandering hands and his greedy mouth. Astarion can already feel himself stiffen just from the knowledge of what he has in store for you.
A startled scream leaves your lips as Astarion's cold arms snake around your waist and pulls you against his hard chest. It does make him feel bad for a moment, but the delicate sigh that follows as he kisses up your jaw is enough to make up for it. 
"Hello, my love." Astarion hums against your skin. His nimble fingers trail over your stomach, teasing the valley of your breast, taking careful movements to ghost his thumb over your sensitive nipple. A gasp leaves your sinful mouth, and you arch your back.
"H-hey," you breathe, and when Astarion grinds his tented pants against your backsides, you let out the most delicious whimper. "What are you up to, Star?" 
His only response is a breathy laugh as he turns you around and pulls you into a kiss. Signing into his mouth, you hook your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. It's messy, with soapy hands and mingling tongues, but it leaves you breathless. Astarion teases your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away to bite your jaw playfully, relishing the surprised yelp you give him. 
Astarion quickly lifts you onto the countertop, where he can nestle between your plush thighs. Your wandering hands move up to tangle into his curls and give a tug. Astarion obliges your silent request and resumes the kiss, licking deeply into your mouth. He's lost in the subtle floral scent of your shampoo and the taste of your lips.
You pull him away with your chest, heaving in deep pants. "Astarion, what are you--" He smirks when you trail off into a breathy moan as his teeth nibble at your ear.
"Darling, do you remember that book you gifted me?" Astarion's hands trail down your side, and you part your legs more for his reaching fingers.
"Y-yes, the one you scoffed at and threw in the corner?" Still having the sense of mind to tease him, he chuckles when your quip spills into a moan when the pad of his thumb presses against your covered clit. 
Astarion is pleased with the dampening fabric of your shorts. Your responsiveness never ceases to leave him aching with need. He begins to move his finger lightly back and forth against the fabric. It's not enough to give you what you want, but it has you whining for more.
"Well, I must admit the poor excuse for educational text did have some interesting information." Astarion moves his thumb a bit rougher against your clit.
"What -fuck- what interesting information are we talking about?" 
Astarion doesn't respond immediately, slipping his hand under the band of your shorts. He swipes his deft fingers through your dripping folds and begins to tease your entrance while he continues to rub tight circles against your sensitive bud. You gasp and drop your head to his shoulder, rolling your hips into his palm. Astarion cups the back of your neck with his spare hand and tilts your head back. You meet his heated gaze with lidded eyes and mouth agape. 
"Dhampirs." Astarion purrs, plunging two of his fingers into your dripping core, curling up just enough to have you gasping his name. 
Your fingernails dig into his forearm, clinging for anything to ground you. Astarion waits for you to react, loving the way you roll your hips in time with his fingers, desperate for all that he gives you. It seems you're lost in your pleasure or not quite catching on to what he's implying because you're looking at him, clearly not following his words. 
"Half-vampires, my sweet."
You clench around his fingers, letting out a soft whimper that would have gone unheard without his heightened hearing. He smirks, picking up the pace. Astarion grabs your chin, guiding you to look at him.
"Does that excite you, darling?" 
"Gods, shit," You breathe. "Please, don't stop."
"You would look so beautiful carrying our child. Hells, imagine." 
Astarion trails his fangs over the skin of your neck, sucking on the pinprick from the previous night. His hips are now rutting against your leg and the edge of the counter, only enough to ease the ache in his groin. Astarion can feel you getting close just by the little jolts of your hips and the tight squeeze of your cunt. 
"Do you want my child, love?" Astarion hums against your skin. "Do you want me to fill you to the brim with my seed, fuck you until you're a dripping mess? Until there's a little one growing in your womb."
"Please! Fuck, I'm going t-" 
"Come for me, my sweet girl."
You cry out his name, and just as your orgasm rakes through your body, Astarion sinks his teeth into your neck and begins his feed. You're lost to the pleasure, your walls spasming around his fingers. He helps you ride out your release, never unlatching from your neck.
 Astarion takes large, greedy gulps of your blood, far more than his usual fill. The book said a significant amount of blood was needed, leaving much to be interpreted. Astarion only stopped when you nudged him on the shoulder. 
When he pulls away, you wipe the small trickle of blood that dribbles down Astarion's chin. Delicately he grabs your hand and sucks your thumb into his mouth, licking it clean.
"Astarion, let's go to our room. I think we have some things to explore," you say with a tempting smile.
Astarion is carrying you out of the kitchen and down the hall without another word, his lips locked onto yours. 
You're giggling against Astarion's mouth as he kicks the door open and tosses you carelessly on the bed. You bounce on the mattress and watch the vampire hastily tear at the buttons of his shirt. 
Tossing the fabric away, Astarion looks at you and unbuckles his trousers. The sight alone nearly has him cumming in his pants. There you are, lounging with that devious gaze, biting your lip and groping your breast like the tease you are.
"Fuck, sweetheart," Astarion breathe, practically ripping the rest of his clothes from his body. "Take your clothes off for me."
You do as you're told and quickly strip until you're bare and spread out like a feast just for him. Astarion now kneels naked at the foot of the bed and grabs your ankle, giving a gentle kiss to your calf. 
"I've thought about nothing else but getting you pregnant since I read that foolish book," Astarion says, kissing his way up your leg. "Watching your stomach grow round with our child," He kisses and licks the soft flesh of your abdomen. 
"Astarion," you sigh.
"To get the pleasure of taking care of you. Rubbing your swollen feet, and massage your aching back, even fetching every one of the disgusting cravings your pregnancy gives you."
"Says the blood drinker." You scoff, glaring down at Astarion between the valley of your breasts. 
Astarion ignores you and bites at your chest playfully. "You would make such a lovely mother, darling. Please, love, let me make you a mother." 
Astarion's words are laced with a tone of desperation. He might have been embarrassed if not for the need that consumes him: a need to see you nod at him with your beautiful smile, a need to hear you say you want this just as much as him, that you want to start a family with him, however unlikely it might be.
And then you nod your head and frantically pull him up into a kiss, and Astarion feels like he's alive once again.
"Gods, yes." You mumble, slinging your legs around him and pulling him down against your body.
Astarion licks into your mouth, kissing you like a man starved. You're just as desperate, grinding up against him, seeking friction, and letting out little whines against his mouth. Wandering hands trails down his back and between your two bodies, and Astarion lets out a pathetic moan when you grip his leaking cock, giving him a few teasing pumps. 
"You're going to be such a good daddy, Astarion." You whisper sinfully in his ears as he fucks your hand. "Going to take good care of me and our little one."
"Hells, you wicked thing." Astarion grunts. 
You run your thumb over the head, giving him a playful squeeze. Hot, open-mouth kisses are littered across his chest and up his neck until your mouth is right against his ear. Your warm breath floats over his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.
"Astarion love, I need you to put a baby into me." 
Astarion nods, seemingly breathless, as you line him up at your weeping cunt. He presses in, and the room fills with debauched moans. You grab his neck, slamming your mouths back together, tongues back into their messy dance. Saliva coats each other's lips, but neither can get enough. Astarion grunts deep in his chest when you scratch your nails over his scalp.
"Oh my love, I'm going to fuck you until you're leaking with my cum. Filled to the brim until you can't take anymore." Astarion grabs your legs and pulls them over his shoulders, and you cry at the change in angle. "Then tomorrow I'll do the same, and the day after. Until we know for sure our baby is growing in your womb."
"Yes, Star. Wanna baby." You slur against him, pressing warm kisses wherever your lips can touch. 
Astarion was fucking you as if this was his life goal. As if nothing else matters but the delicious feeling of his cock thrusting against your walls, pressing deep against your cervix. Seeing all of you with your cheek flushed and your chest rising and falling with rapid pants of breath, knees against your chest. Your eyes lidded, gazed over in pleasure, and your hair a mess against the white of the pillow. It was the sexiest display Astarion has ever had the pleasure to see.
"You're so beautiful. Gods, I love you." 
"Love you," You try to say but choke on a moan. Your hands wander down his back and across his chest, seeming not to know where you want to touch.
Astarion is close but determined to feel you come around him before finding his release. Thankfully, he won't need to wait long because you're on the edge. So close. He can tell just by the way your gummy walls spasm around his cock, and the way your hips are jutting up against each of his thrusts.
"I know you're close, darling. Can you come for me? I want to feel you squeeze me while I fill you."
And with those sinful words, it was almost like you were waiting for his permission because as soon as they left his mouth, you were falling over the precipice. You clench down on him, a pleasured sob breaking free of your throat. The feeling of you alone was enough to tip him over, and he quickly found his release spilling his seed deep into your abused cunt.
The room stills, the scent of sweat and sex clings to the air. Astarion lets your legs fall to the side and maneuvers both of your bodies so that he's lying on his back and you're resting on top of him, head on his chest. Astarion rubs your back and kisses your hairline as you catch your breath. You trace lines across his skin, lost in thought at what had happened.
"So should I expect a little vampling running around soon?" you ask, looking up at him.
Astarion huffs a small laugh through his nose and kisses your forehead. "Human and Vampire reproduction is unlikely but not impossible," Astarion explains without the rush of arousal clogging both of your minds. "But I think we've done many remarkable things together, wouldn't you agree, my love."
You smile brightly and kiss his chest. "Yes, we do have a knack for doing the impossible. And I'm very, very eager to keep trying." 
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sorcerous-caress · 6 months
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Faux Innocence | Halsin
[Smut, purity kink, slightly toxic Halsin, Durge reader, nb!reader]
Halsin has developed a false impression of who you are. Despite being a bhaalspawn, you were the picture of purity in his eyes and he let his urges to corrupt you take over.
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If someone were to ask Halsin what true purity was, he'd merely point in your direction.
For how could anything else compare to you? How could the petals of a budding spring flower compete with you? Not even the sweet nectar of a honeysuckle rivals the sweetness of your innocence.
Is what he sincerely believed, constantly preached and defended with vigour against any conflicting view or opinion someone had of you.
He might have not gotten to know you much, but from what he has seen and through all the troubles you went through to help him and his grove, to help cure this land from its curse and save a child of nature, he has a solidified view about you.
A maniac? A murder? A bhaalspawn? Halsin will soon believe that the sun was blue rather than these blatant lies. You couldn't hurt a fly if you tried, you were the picture of a meek newborn deer in his eyes.
No matter how many times your companions attempted to tarnish his glass stained picture of you, it would never shatter.
Yet you accepted his advances, his proposition in broad daylight. Halsin was sure of one thing that day, and it's that you might have been even more naive than he thought you were, to allow a man you've barely known to bed you so easily.
It almost felt sinful of him to wait for you in the woods that night. His neglected cock throbbing and aching against his clothes, tip leaking pearly white droplets at the thought of your wide eyed stare and sweet smile when you finally arrived.
He was gentle, he really tried to be as gentle as he could. The most careful and delicate he has been in his entire lifetime, a stark contrast to his wild nature and usual intense sexual experiences.
Speaking slowly, softly. Allowing you space and asking you if you're sure multiple times in an almost condensing way. The man would coo at your endearing enthusiasm as he patted your head, amused by your innocence.
Your companions really don't know you at all huh? Spinning false tales of you allowing a priest of loviatar to whip and inflict pain on you so publicly, claiming you were flirting with the devil women after Wyll. They even had the audacity to imply that blood and gore turn you on!
These thoughts only make him chuckle, he has never heard anything so bizarre in his life before.
Halsin picks you up, you fit perfectly into his big arms. The urge to protect you, keep you in his embrace from this scary world that would devour you at the first sign of weakness. It's a miracle that someone as sweet and innocent as you managed to remain pure for so long.
As much as he wants to push you against the tree, he fears its bark might be too harsh for your delicate skin. He only wishes for your utmost comfort as he trails up your neck. Giving your forehead a tender peck before pressing his lips against yours, his tongue politely and wordlessly asking permission for your lips to part.
The kiss is slow, tender, and drives him crazy. He is using all of his self restraint, burying every depraved perverted instinct of his deep down being so careful not to tighten his grip around you.
You're like a fragile fledgling of a hummingbird that entrusted him with its delicate wings.
He asks permission before removing your clothes, swallowing down his saliva at the idea of finally seeing your naked body.
He interprets your casual nod as a sign of being embarrassed, what a timid shy thing you are. May Silvanus grant his soul mercy and give him strength for he is barely holding back. His cock painfully hard and left ignored for the sake of you.
The night is warm and calm, the perfect atmosphere to slowly strip you down. The moonlight illuminating your breathtaking figure as his large hands glide down your soft body.
You belong in a soft bed with featherly pillows, he thinks, covered in silk and veiled by white lace. Maybe even a nest of wool or cotton, as delicate and as precious as an egg, you deserved the same protection.
When he reached between your legs, his breath stopped for a second. Eyes drinking in your most intimate parts on display for him. How he longed to drink you up, swallow you like honey down his throat.
You deserve a hot wet mouth to grind into each night, both to wake you up in the early morning with his head between your legs, and to put you to sleep late at night with your thighs above his shoulders.
Before he realises it, his lips are already on you. Sucking and licking against your heat with the hunger of a dying man. You tasted like pure ambrosia and he was getting addicted.
Nothing could pull him away from you at that moment, no one could convince him to let go before you had your orgasm. How sweet your moans sounded as he drove his tongue further in, as he sucked and swallowed.
And when you held his hand, when you entangled your fingers with his instead of pulling on his hair, he almost came untouched. This simple innocent act of holding hands while he devoured you on his knees, while he shamelessly let his gluttony take charge, it drove him mad with lust.
That hand could never hold a knife or a dagger, he thought, there is no way these delicate fingers could handle a weapon. They were made to be held, to be kissed and to be pinned down.
The melody of your moans echoed through the night, getting louder as you approached release. Halsin felt a sense of pride when he saw the hints of tears at the corner of your eyes, what an intense experience his simple act must have been for someone as pure as you.
“Halsin…please” you breathlessly said, “I'm close, I'm…”
Your next words, asking his permission to cum, were his last straw.
For your orgasm never came. Halsin pulled his mouth away with a wet pop as his primal urges took over. Picking you up again and bending you against his chest, your legs over his shoulder as he kept you in the air.
“Please bear with me, I deeply apologise for this.” you felt something large prop your entrance, his eyes were glazed over.
He's an awful man, he thinks as he plunges his cock into your wet hole. He couldn't resist, he couldn't control himself, he couldn't not be greedy and selfish against your temptations.
The sudden intense change of position, the sudden insertion and the large cock pumping in and out of you with a trail of precum painting your walls, was more than enough to send you over the edge.
Your previous denied orgasm coming back twice as strong. Halsin kept fucking you through your release, pace never slowing down as you cried in pleasure and and your insides squeezed him fist tight.
Drool slipped from the corner of your lips, pleasure clouding your brain and making everything look hazy. Halsin lapped it up with the look of a hungry wolf about to devour its prey, kissing you again and pushing you down deeper onto his cock.
He wanted to ruin you, to steal your purity so it's his forever, to share his filthy fantasies with you until you're as much of a pervert as he is. To fuck each and every one of your holes, to fill you with his cum and bulge your stomach.
Apology after apology were whispered against your lips between each kiss, his brutal pace sending you into overwhelming sensitivity from your fresh orgasm. You could only hold on to his strong chest as you were used like a flashlight, fucked and made to cum so easily by the arch-druid.
The idea of keeping you on his cock forever stirs something dark inside him, to have you warming his cock each moment of the day. To stretch you out on it and bounce you slowly until you cum yourself to sleep, have you all pretty and ready on his lap to be fucked. He would protect you, he would treasure you and he would show you what's your true purpose.
Instead of having to worry about you each time you went out on these adventures, never taking him with you and coming back covered in blood courtesy to your careless companions no doubt. How could they let someone so meek and innocent even see the sight of blood?
You're crying his name, hugging him closer to you. Moving your hips as much as you can to match his pace. Even now you're indulging this selfish man's desires? Fucking yourself against him so he'd give you his cum faster? You really are a sweet thing aren't you. The most adorable person he has ever met.
He was never one to abuse his authority or power, but something tells him if you were a cute fresh druid in training in the grove, he would've made you his personal assistant since day one. Gave a million excuses and reasons on why it should be him to train you, to hold you and show you the proper positions to cast spells, to give you the permission to visit the arch-druid chambers any time.
But maybe even nature is too brutal for you. The sight of that bloodied brutalised squirrel just above the elevator still confuses him to this day, apparently animals can still be hostile whilst in a safe sanctuary like the grove. At least he fully assumed it was another animal that had taken its life.
And Halsin will make sure you never see that side of nature, only the most soft and cherry picked ascents. Have you tending to the flowers and caring for the baby bunnies. Maybe, feeding the kittens seems much more your style.
Your cries pull him out of his fantasy of what a different life with you could've been. There are tears going down your eyes from the intense pleasure and the most cute hiccups and pleads for him to please fill you with his cum, to please push his cock deeper in.
How could he ever say no? It would be criminal to deny you anything.
Halsin was already on edge for so long, it only takes a couple more kisses against your neck, a touch of your curious fingers against his pointy ears and he's spilling his seed inside you. Marking you with his cum and filling you the brim.
His cock pulses inside you as it empties itself, he keeps it plugging you and not allowing a single drop of his cum to escape.
Looking at your eyes, he wonders what you're thinking about in that pure mind of yours. Completely unaware to the depravity of gore inside, to your wandering thoughts about snapping his neck, to your dark urges for him to choke you with his large fists as he fucks you against the harshest tree.
No, instead he kisses your forehead. Smiling as sweat glistens on his skin, he keeps you on his lap.
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queenimmadolla · 1 year
Text
𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞
(dad!eddie munson and mom!reader as young parents)
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more of the penny verse here • eddie edit © @fefemunson!
Summary. . . You admire your new baby girl. warnings: none, just fluff a/n: eddie and reader are about 20 and 21 (i also feel the need to express eddie exhibits Sagittarius traits so i'm thinking he had to have been born in december, kinda close to capricorn cause he looks evil but he's not) and some cuteness before I give you angst with 'Wayne's World'. enjoy! let me know what you think? ◡̈
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“So…how you liking it out here?” You asked, propped on your stomach and resting on your forearms.
  Your daughter, only six days old, stared back up at you, small plump lips parted. She still looked so new and a little wrinkly.
  “There’s not a single thought in your adorable little head, is there?” You stroked over her soft hair—she’d come out with a full head of it—mindful of her delicate head and softspot. Penny blinked once, hard, at the gentle caress, but continued to marvel at you, the big brown eyes she’d inherited from her father were so wide that her forehead was squishing up towards her adorable hairline.
  The television was on, more so for background noise as the volume was very low. Eddie was asleep in the bedroom, he’d taken it upon himself to let you get as much rest as possible—always insisting on getting up in the middle of the night to gather Penny when she became fussy. She didn’t do too much, wasn’t all that active yet. If she wasn’t fussing, she was attached to one of your nipples or sleeping. In the four days since you’d brought her home, she hadn’t done a whole lot of sleeping during the convenient times for her new parents. No, she slept during the day and was up all night.  
  Eddie was so good with her, though. Took the screaming like a champ, it was so fascinating to you that she couldn’t produce actual tears yet but it still hurt your heart to hear her cry. He’d just take off his shirt and hold her to his chest, skin to skin seemed to calm Penny down, and you’d pumped enough to have overnight supplies of milk for her when your nipples were too sore to handle Penny’s nursing, though you didn’t mind when he stirred you from sleep to settle Penny against your breast so she could eat.
  That was about the only time Eddie did wake you. Giving birth had drained you, you knew it was gonna be uncomfortable and take a lot out of you but you hadn’t anticipated the lack of energy you’d have in the days following as well, and you hadn’t voiced it but Eddie knew you. Sometimes, you thought he knew you better than you knew yourself.
  It was surprising when you woke before him, feeling well rested instead of drained. You’d quietly gotten out of bed, careful not to wake him, to check on Penny, and for once, she was up at a normal time, too. 
  Eddie looked exhausted, breathing deep as he slept so you decided it was time to start bonding with your baby more. A little mommy-daughter time.
  After changing her diaper and feeding her, you got yourself dressed and ready, put her in a cute little onesie and folded a blanket on the carpet in the living room to lay her down. 
  You hadn’t realized there wasn’t a whole lot to do with a newborn until half an hour had passed with you two staring at each other, really taking each other in. You studied her and while you didn’t think she had a whole lot of brain processing power, you had a feeling she was trying to figure you out, too. As more than just her food source, anyways. Sometimes her stare would go soft, eyelids looking heavy before they were wide open again as if you’d done something to startle her out, it was kind of funny. 
  “You know, you’re pretty cute but you’re kind of boring,” You teased, fingers trailing down her little side until you reached her onesie covered foot and your ovaries cried at how small it was. You pressed your thumb gently just below her teeny tiny toes and like the little alien she was, they curled in on it in a way she probably wouldn’t be able to do in a few months, newborn flexible-ness.
  “All you heard was cute, huh?”
  Seemingly in response, because of course your daughter knew her cues, she was Eddie Munson’s baby after all, she began to suckle on nothing, lips miming the motion. You grabbed her pacifier and held it to her lips, giggling when she mouthed at it until it was settled and she looked content. 
  You beamed down at her, thumb stroking over the pad of her foot before pressing a kiss to it. And since you were kissing her foot you just had to show those chunky (god you wanted to bite them) cheeks some love, pressing your lips noisily and repeatedly against her face.
  Penny let you have your fun, the eye of her cheek you were focused on forced to squint as the chubb of it spread with the pressure of your kisses.
  You’d been expecting her to smell good, a baby survival mechanism to entice people to want to take care of her, but you had no idea how obsessed with it you’d become. You just wanted to bottle the newborn smell up so you could have it forever. Once you were done kissing her face, your nose trailed up her head to sniff at her hair where the scent was the strongest. You inhaled deeply, very much so exaggerated and let out an even more dramatic sigh before you pulled away to look down at her.
  “I’ve never done it, but you’re better than crack,” You swore.
  “Neither have I and I agree.” A raspy voice responded from behind you.
  You rolled onto your side, glancing over your shoulder to see Eddie leaning against the doorway of the bedroom, lips curled into a smile and sleep still lingering in his eyes.
  “You know, it’s really hot when you linger in doorways like that, but it’s also kind of creepy, Eddie.”
  The sleepy look quickly morphed into a mischievous one, “You think I’m hot?”
  “So, that’s what you’re gonna take from that? You already know I think you’re hot. Exhibit A,” You gestured down to his baby you’d popped out less than a week ago. 
  Eddie laughed and joined you on the floor, lips pursed in exaggeration once he was settled. You were all too happy to lean in, pressing your lips firmly against his. It was clear he’d just been expecting a quick peck when he let out a sound of surprise before you felt the curve of his smile which in turn made you smile.
  You felt so doped up on love; you had Eddie, who you thought would be the greatest love of your life, and now you had the baby you two made, proof of your love (an accidental one but still) and also proof that you could be wrong, since she turned out to be the other great love of your life. Despite the late nights, sore nipples and how peeing was somewhat of a chore while your stitches healed, life was bliss.
  “Mmm,” Eddie hummed when you pulled away, eyes still closed and that smile still plastered on his face. Then he groaned, head dropping. “These are going to be the longest six weeks of my life, I just know it.”
  You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you sat up and carefully lifted Penny. She was so doll-like, ugh, you loved her so much. You turned her in your grasp, a hand cradling the back of her head and neck while your other supported her bottom as you pressed her cheek against yours, the both of you facing Eddie.
  “But isn’t this worth it?” 
  There wasn’t any humor behind the reply he rasped out, his features morphing into the tender expression that always made you feel breathless, like you were important to him, “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
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Let's Have a Baby 2.0
summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: implied sexual content, MDNI Note: A special thank you to @lethalchiralium and @peachesofteal for workshopping with me, per usual, and for being the best beta! Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>
Simon Riley did not cry when his first daughter was born.
He didn’t know how to process his grief amid his love’s agony and emptiness. She spent days on end, curled into the plush rocker in the corner of the empty nursery or lying flat on her back, staring at the white ceiling. His guilt was no match for her shame – as she clutched the tiny hospital blanket to her chest, sobbing that she couldn’t name her. Couldn’t name the daughter that they didn’t get to bring home.
Her wails – I’m sorry I’m weak, Please don’t hate me, I'm fucking useless – echoed in Simon’s mind when he named that baby. He knew, in his heart, that Freyja loved her with her entire being, everything she had. He knew that, if she could, she would have picked the most beautiful name, better than anything he could have come up with on his own. So he named her after his wife, so his daughter would never leave his mind.
When Joan Vanadís was born, Simon stared at her for hours. He memorized every detail of her soft features, inhaled her scent, and poured over her deep brown eyes and button nose. His wife barely got to hold her in her first day of life. Sure, he had cried, as many fathers do in the delivery room. He was completely unsure of how it was possible that he helped create this beautiful, innocent little person.
But his son, oh his son, was an entirely different animal.
Where Joanie came roaring into the world, Arthur Simon was quiet. Quiet like his father, but the spitting image of his mum, minus Simon’s curved nose (Poor thing, he thought). The gentle cry from such a delicate thing broke whatever terrified stupor he’d been in since learning that they were having a boy. The doctor placed the blue bundle on his wife’s chest, and he instantly broke down. The ‘big bad Ghost’ was a blubbering mess as their son’s small hand curled into her skin, his eyes closed, and his mouth curled into a frown. He hesitated, hand hovering over the boy until Freyja’s came and pressed his palm into the tiny body, much smaller than Joanie’s when she was born. The steady rhythm of Arthur’s little lungs working underneath his fingertips made something inside his chest snap and crumble into dust.
Whatever fear he had about having a son was gone. As he had promised their daughters, he again swore that he would be better. Better than his father. He promised he would raise Arthur the way he should have been.
In the months that followed, taking care of his son healed a piece of Simon Riley. A piece that needed the father he had fought so hard to be.
The newborn seemed to have that effect on people, particularly overgrown men.
Arthur’s godfathers and grandfather returned to England about three months after he was born. Johnny brought his partners by the second they stepped off the plane, not even offering time to dress down in civilian clothes.
König was the first in the house, carrying his and Roach’s duffels as Johnny snuck in a moment alone with their partner outside. Freyja appeared, almost making him jump out of his skin at her sudden appearance.
“Herrgott, Kapitän!” he cried, hand on his pounding heart. “You scared me.”
Freyja had Artie strapped to her chest, sucking happily on his pacifier as he stared up at her face. He was already a certifiable mama’s boy, always enamored with her and clinging to her at every waking moment (and then some). “Oh, thank god,” she sighed, unraveling the fabric from her waist and shoulders. “I need a nap.”
His eyes blew wide through the holes of his hood, and he quickly stepped back. “Nein, Freyja, ich will ihn erschrecken—”
“König, nimm deinen Patensohn.” She didn’t allow him any time to hesitate, pressing the baby against his chest. The Austrian immediately dropped the bags from his shoulders, wrapped one arm under the baby’s bum, and rested one large hand against his back.
“Freyja–!”
She was gone.
König desperately wanted to give him back. He couldn’t take the heartbreak of another kid, especially his own nephew, staring at him with pure terror, trying to get away to safety. But this child, a sweet thing, had easily and without hesitation reached for him when Freyja moved to hand him off. It was as if he already sensed that his mom would never hand him off to someone that didn’t have her full trust.
He had gotten used to Joan by that point, but she was almost a year old when he saw her last. And she was much bigger than the infant boy in his arms, done up in an (admittedly) adorable, light blue onesie, with stripes nearly resembling those of the Scotland flag (Soap most definitely bought it for that reason and that reason alone). What if he dropped him? What if he held him too tight? What if he moved and hit Arthur’s head on something? What if–
A small tug caught his attention, his mask shifting downward. König glanced down at the boy curiously pulling the thing toward his mouth, which he put a stop to. “Iss das nicht, welpe. Du weißt nicht, wo es war,” he whispered, using a finger to nudge Arthur’s fist away from his mouth.
They simply stared at each other, the man holding the baby’s gaze, surprised that the little one was tolerating it. Then in a shocking turn of events, Art jerked the fabric up and over his head, making cooing and gurgling sounds that resembled an attempt at a laugh. Both under the hood now, König froze for a moment, completely and utterly bewildered. No grown adult, let alone an infant, had ever warmed up to the giant so quickly, immediately. Artie made another noise, and beyond his control, tears started to flow freely down his paint-smudged cheeks, a huge smile lighting up their dark cavern.
As König sobbed and shook, he pressed his forehead against Arthur’s, trembling body clinging to his godson like a lifeline.
König didn’t know how long he stood there with gentle but clumsy hands palming his scars and features, reveling in the attention. He never wanted it to end. He didn’t fail to notice what felt like Ghost’s hand on his opposite shoulder, brief but definitely present; then, the familiar press of Johnny’s cheek between his shoulder blades and the imprint of his firm hands on his hips.
Yeah, you could say Arthur Simon had a gift for healing.
.
.
.
“Uh oh, Dada!”
Freyja chuckled at her husband’s exasperated expression, staring at the ceiling as the plastic cup bounced across the floor. Simon had spent the last ten minutes trying to slice up an orange for Joan, who, in that time, had thrown the loose cereal onto the floor, tossed her plastic fork across the room, and finally dumped the cup of water into his lap.
“Yeah, uh oh,” he sighed, bending to pick up the cup but not bothering with his now-soaked pants. “Lovie, I’m almost done. You have to be patient. We don’t throw things.”
“No!”
“Look, Joanie, here.” Simon broke a wedge off and held it out for her. Two little hands took the fruit, holding the rind as Joan gummed at the soft flesh. “Can you say, ‘Thank you, Daddy’?”
“No!”
“You’re welcome, baby.”
Arthur rested quietly in his mother’s arms with his cheek pressed against her breast as he dozed after finishing a bottle. Some mothers would have found Arthur��s level of attachment overwhelming; he rarely wanted to be put down, oftentimes crying out for her even when handed off to Simon. Similar to how Joanie gravitated to her father, Artie clung to her, and Freyja took pride in that.
When she looked up from her son, she found Simon had stripped out of his soiled sweatpants and now sat in only black boxer briefs. It was an unusually lazy day due to the poor weather outside. Simon got the kids up and fed at the usual time but didn’t do much to dress them, opting for fresh onesies. Joan’s was a dark navy, while Art’s was cream with mini tan teddy bears.
Joanie finished the orange slice quickly and placed the rind on her plate. She balled one hand into a fist and slapped the top with an open palm in a jerky movement. “Dada, more.”
“That’s right, ‘more’,” he praised, mimicking the sign for her. “Good job asking. Here.”
He placed the rest of her snack on the tray, and she immediately started nibbling at one. Simon leaned forward with his forearm on his knee, getting to eye level with the girl. “I’d really like an orange. Could you share with Daddy, lovie?” he asked while offering a hand. They had quickly learned to keep her hands occupied and practice hand-eye coordination in constructive ways, rather than letting her get bored. That was when she tended to start throwing things, as demonstrated by Simon’s now discarded pants.
She seemed to consider it, before dropping the piece she had already half finished in his palm and grabbing another.
“I meant one that wasn’t half-eaten, but this’ll do. Thank you.” He met Freyja’s eyes, his cheeks tight with laughter as he finished the fruit. 
The rain thundered against the glass windows, filling the space behind Joanie’s giggles at the funny faces Simon made. Her clothed feet kicked the legs of her chair. It was there – in their kitchen on a rainy Tuesday afternoon – Freyja realized just how content she was with the life they had built together. Observing her husband as he wiped the sticky juices dribbling down their daughter’s chin and pushed her blonde curls back; her touch brushing their son’s warm, squishy cheek with her thumb.
She soaked in the atmosphere a moment longer before speaking. “Simon?”
“Yeah, love?”
“I think Artie’s my last.” Her voice was quiet, almost unsure. They’d never really discussed just how many kids they wanted. Against his initial fears, Simon was a natural; he was just as much in his element taking care of their kids as he was on the battlefield. She didn’t want to take that away if he wanted more, but she honestly couldn’t go through it again. Recovering from a c-section royally sucked, but giving birth naturally was not an option.
Simon’s brows pinched together as he swiveled away from Joanie, searching her face. He watched how her careful fingers stroked Arthur’s face, her other hand wrapped around the baby’s thigh to secure him to her. Her touch slid down to his chest, measuring his tiny heartbeat and steady breaths. He often did the same with both of their children; the gesture grounded him in their reality, and he figured it did the same for her. “Alright,” he finally said. “I’ll call for an appointment to get snipped.”
He said it as if he were talking about grabbing a takeaway on his way home from work, which gave Freyja a slight shock.
“Just like that?” she asked, turning in her chair to face him better. “Are you sure?”
“You’ve given me three beautiful babies,” Simon cooed, reaching to drag his large hands up and down her thighs. Freyja melted into his touch, legs spreading so his knee could slot between hers. “S’the least I can do. If you’re done, so am I. I had a feeling, anyway.”
“A vasectomy just seems a bit extreme. Maybe we can just use condoms?”
He raised a brow at her with an upside-down grin, challenging her. “Do you wanna try that again, with feeling? Look me in the eye and tell me you’re never gonna let me cum in you, ever again?”
“...Birth control?”
“Remind me, how did we have our daughters?”
“I hate you.”
“But I’m right.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“Still right, though.” Simon rose from the table and leaned over her, resting his weight on one hand next to her thigh. He slipped the other around the back of her neck and tilted her head up, stealing a long, slow kiss. He muttered, “I’ll go next week,” against her lips before resuming, tongue gently prodding her bottom lip.
Freyja broke away and glanced up at him through her lashes with a teasing look. “You sure you can last that long without sex?”
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
Ghost, Soap, and Gaz shipped out to replace the other half of the task force a few days later. They were only gone for two weeks, executing the final excursion to retrieve a stolen weapons cache. König, Roche, and Price had done most of the leg work but decided that the sergeants and lieutenant were better equipped for the situation at hand. 
Johnny’s demolition expertise certainly came in handy this time around.
Still, Simon was sore and aching for the comfort of holding his kids and wife after what felt like the longest two weeks of his life. It was their first time leaving both babies with the other parent since Arthur was born.
Unlike his last time returning from a mission, the house was quiet, which allowed him time to take his boots off at the door and shed his mask. König’s car was parked in their driveway, leading him to believe the operative was spending the night in their guest room. Whether Roach was there too, he didn’t know.
The hall light at the top of the stairs flicked on, and Freyja appeared in a silky nightgown, standing on the last step with a tired smile and messy hair.
Simon stopped at the bottom of the stairs and hummed while his eyes roamed her body with a dopey smile.
“Welcome back,” she whispered, locking her fingers behind his neck to tilt his head back, giving him access to slot their lips together. Freyja moaned quietly at the firm hands on her hips and thighs, gripping and digging into the soft flesh. “How’d it go?”
He shrugged and pressed another chaste kiss to her lips, humming against them. “No snags. Soap got to blow stuff up.” Simon’s mouth trailed down her jaw, throat, and chest, gentle and loving.
Her fingertips brushed a gash on his cheek. Most likely from shrapnel, if its depth and jagged edges were any indicators.
“M’fine, love.”
“Joanie’s out cold, but Artie’s awake if you wanna see him. I just finished feeding him.”
That woke him up a little bit. A soft breath of air tickled the wet spots on Freyja’s skin from his silent chuckle. Simon’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he nuzzled his face in her chest as he soaked in her presence. They’d gone more extended periods without seeing each other, but whether they were apart for a week or a few months, he still missed her like crazy.
“She doing better in her room?”
“Much. She’s having some nightmares but goes back down eventually. She’s having a good night.”
“Mmm, in that case, I won’t wake her. We can surprise her in the mornin’.”
When Freyja turned to lead him upstairs, he couldn’t help himself as his hand swung up and connected with her ass, a sharp CRACK! resonating through the air.
“Simon!”
“M’sorry, couldn’t help it. You left yourself wide open on that one,” he teased, his voice low to not wake their daughter or guests. As expected, Arthur’s quiet coos reached his ears the closer they got to their bedroom. Simon dropped his gear by their bedroom door and approached the bassinet on Freyja’s side of the bed. The little boy stared in his general direction, wiggling like a (precious) worm.
The man beamed down at him and carefully slid his hands under Artie’s back with his thumbs hooked under the infant’s arms, lifting him out of the crib. “Hi, beautiful boy,” he mumbled, pressing his pursed lips against his cheek, leaving multiple kisses in the same spot. He held his son back out for a moment, a confused expression on his face once he pulled away.
“Where’d it go?”
Freyja shifted to her knees on their bed and rested her chin on his shoulder, peering down at their son. “What?”
“The baby scrunch.”
“Huh. You’re right. I didn’t even notice.”
“I just…last time I held him, he still curled up. I missed it,” he said, a grown man literally pouting.
“I know…” She let her hands slide down from his shoulders to his chest. “I’m sorry, Si. I know it sucks. Being away comes with the job, and that means we miss things. We’ve been lucky so far with Joanie, honestly.”
Arthur had quieted down, sucking his pacifier as he studied Simon’s painted face and clinging to his shirt.
A knock at the doorframe caught their attention, and all three turned to the source. König rubbed the sleep from his eyes, bare feet padding across the carpet until he reached them. “Hello, Lieutenant. Did the operation bode well?”
“Yeah, everything was just as you said it – was…”
The baby had started to whine again and let go of his dad, reaching for his uncle with grabby hands. The man’s face flushed, but he didn’t make a move to take the baby. Once the shock wore off, Simon took the initiative to hand Art off, and König gladly received him.
He immediately settled again, laying his head back in the crook of König’s elbow, humming softly against his pacifier. “Hallo, welpe,” he said in a hushed tone, rocking his nephew gently.
“Well, that’s new,” Simon grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed to avoid awkwardly standing there. Simon wasn’t too annoyed, but he was somewhat sad. He had missed his babies dearly and looked forward to some serious attention. But his usually shy baby, who never wanted to be handed off to anyone besides his mother and occasionally Simon, was suddenly choosing their friend over him.
How much had he missed in such a short amount of time?
“I apologize, sir. I am as surprised as you are. He’s a good boy; I think we have been around so much the last two weeks…”
“König.”
“Ja?”
“Drop the sir. We’re not on base. I’m not mad.”
König blinked at him, confused. “It’s… Scheiße, wie sagt man ‘gebräuchlich’ auf Englisch? Ich weiß es nicht. It is normal to use sir where I’m from.”
Simon glared back. “And this is my house. You’ve done as my wife has said to gain my son’s affection. So now, you will do what I say to get back in my good graces after robbing me of my child. Are we clear?”
“I feel…bad. Please, take him back–”
He shook his head and stood again, scratching at the light stubble that had formed on his cheeks over the last few days. “And I’m telling you, no. It’s fine. I have to shower anyway.”
“Alles klar.”
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sonamytrash · 2 months
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Precious cargo
An: Just Dadvi fluff that has been rotting my brain. I actually imagine Levi and readers' first baby being a little boy, but a baby girl worked better for this particular drabble. I promise to revisit some of my other headcanons following readers' pregnancy.
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Levi strides through the Scouting Legion headquarters, his sharp gaze scanning the familiar surroundings as he cradles your newborn daughter securely against his chest. The ever-present crease in his brow softens ever so slightly as he looks down at the sleeping infant, a rare tenderness glimmering in his steel-grey eyes.
"Try not to make too much of a ruckus, brat." He murmurs to the newborn, his deep voice barely above a whisper as not to disturb your child's slumber. "The rest of these idiots don't know how to behave themselves."
Levi's grip tightens protectively as he approaches the mess hall, his gaze sweeping the room. Upon spotting Hange waving enthusiastically in your direction, he lets out an exasperated sigh, bracing himself for the inevitable chaos that's about to ensue.
Carefully, Levi shifts the baby's weight, angling his body to shield your child from the impending chaos. "Hange's about to descend like a pack of rabid wolves. I hope you're ready for the onslaught." He mutters, his fingers tightening protectively around your waist.
Just as the words leave his lips, Hange's boisterous voice fills the air, drawing the attention of the entire hall. "Levi! Y,N! There you are!" they exclaim, barreling towards the three of you with unrestrained enthusiasm. "Let me see the little one!"
Levi's brow furrows as Hange approaches, their boisterous energy directly at odds with his own protective instincts. "Tch, calm down four-eyes. You're going to wake her up." He grumbles, angling his body to shield the sleeping infant from Hange's grabby hands.
Despite his gruff demeanour, there's an underlying fondness in Levi's tone as he gazes down at your daughter. "Besides, I don't want you to contaminate her with your filthy hands." He scoffs, though the slight quirk of his lips betrays his amusement.
Hange's infectious enthusiasm draws a reluctant smile from Levi as they turn their attention to you. "How are you feeling, y/n?" they ask, their eyes shining with genuine concern. "The little one treating you well?"
You nod, "I'm okay. So far, everything seems to be going smoothly." You reply, Levi's grip on the sleeping infant tightens ever so slightly, his steely gaze softening as it flickers between you and your daughter. "Tch, of course she is." he interjects, a hint of pride colouring his gruff tone. "This brat's got a strong constitution, just like her mother." He says, smiling at you affectionately.
Reaching out, Levi gently brushes a finger against the baby's downy cheek, a rare tenderness shining in his steel-grey eyes. "Causing trouble already, aren't you?" he murmurs.
The rare, affectionate smile continues to tug at the corners of Levi's lips as he watches your daughter stir, her tiny features scrunching up in a delicate yawn. "She's perfect. She gets that from y/n, too." He breathes, his voice thick with an emotion that few have ever witnessed from the stoic captain. A feint blush paints your cheeks at his affectionate display as you place your hand on his forearm.
Krista makes her way over, gushing excitedly over the baby. "Oh, she's just perfect!" She squeels.
Levi looks to you for guidance. You can tell what he's thinking, and without any words needed, you nod reassuringly. He looks back at Krista, Levi's expression shifts, his usual cool detachment replaced by a rare warmth. "Tsk. Do you want to hold her?" he asks, his tone gruff but carrying a hint of invitation.
Levi's brow furrows slightly as he carefully transfers the sleeping infant into Krista's waiting arms, his fingers brushing against the delicate girl's skin with the utmost care.
"Support her head," he murmurs, his voice low and gruff.  "And for god's sake, don't drop her."
Sasha soon bounded over, her eyes twinkling with excitement, the other members of the 104th close behind her.
"She really does look just like you, Captain!" She reached out and touched the tiny hand that was now resting on Kristas shoulder, admiring the infant's dark hair. The others in the room chimed in, oohing and aahing over the tiny fingers and toes, cooing and gushing over the newest addition to the scouting family.
"Tch, the brat's got my looks, alright." He murmurs, a hint of pride in his gruff tone. "Though hopefully she's inherited more of her mother's pleasant disposition."
Levi hovers protectively, his steely gaze flickering between the baby, the others and Krista, ready to snatch the child back at the slightest sign of trouble. A faint, barely perceptible smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he watches the petite girl and her friends coo over his daughter, his chest swelling with a fierce, paternal pride.
"Careful..." he rumbles, his brow furrowing in a rare display of vulnerability. "She's precious cargo."
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byunpum · 8 months
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I can be a better father | Part 5 (Ikran)
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Pair: Tsu'tey x child-Grow up y/n
Warning: none, cute moments.
Note: Sorry for taking so long to answer the requests. I've had a lot of work these past few weeks, and I really haven't had much of a muse. And if I don't feel like writing, I'd better take a break so I can bring you more material. But still….thanks so much for the support!!!
Requests: (anon) Please could you make more chapters of tsu'tey and the children .. where y/n finds a dragon cub just like drogon. Also do one where spider gets an ikran even though he's human. PLEASE !!!
Avatar masterlist | Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
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Tsu'tey placed the last piece of wood to his hut, tightening it tightly against the other pieces. Stepping back to observe his work, this would be enough to keep spider from falling out of the tree hut again. The man had spent all morning preparing a type of ladder so that his human-children would not fall. They were still too small to climb on the hard bark of the tree, well…they could, but he didn't want them to hurt their hands. His children's skin was delicate, he thought asking Jake for help and advice on what he should do would help and here he was…looking at his work. For a first time doing stairs they didn't look bad, or so he thought.
He sat for a while on the floor, resting. He had sent the kids to play with his half-siblings, neytiri would take care of them. And he would have some time off for himself, but all peace of mind was interrupted when he heard the voice of his little Y/N. Turning his head to see his cute baby with an ikran…newborn. Ikran were territorial creatures, so they didn't usually leave their young alone. But here was her little girl, holding the baby ikran in her tiny arms. Well what she could hold, the creature was much bigger than she was. But Y/N was holding it lovingly, walking swiftly towards her father.
"Sempuuuu, look what I found!!!!" shouts the child. Tsu'tey didn't know how to answer, his mouth was open. He had so many questions at this moment, how on earth had she taken that. Tsu'tey gets up from the ground, running towards her daughter. The creature screams, and moves into her daughter's arms.
"Baby…how? Where did you get? By my eywa" speaks tsu'tey trying to calm down, reaching out to touch the baby ikran. But the baby tries to bite him. While his little girl laughs out loud. "I found him….his mom went and left him. I'm going to be his new mommy" Y/N speaks, hugging the child more. The little girl's tiny body sways backwards trying to control her balance. "baby…we must return this baby to his family, we can't take care of him. He belongs with his family" tsu'tey tries to explain to her little daughter that the little ikran belongs with his own kind.
The little one's face turns to one of distress, pouting. By this time the creature had already cowered in Y/N's arms. "sempu…he is alone, we could take care of him…as you have taken care of me and spider" Y/N speaks, oh no those words have crushed tsu'tey's heart. He was weak when his little girl spoke to him this way. Tsu'tey sighs, he didn't want to hurt his daughter's feelings. He fixes Y/N's hair a bit, apparently she had been doing a lot of mischief the last few hours. Her hair was quite a mess, some loose braids and tangled bits of hair.
"Honey…he must be with his own species" tsu'tey starts to speak, but his daughter interrupts him. One of her small hands, touches his forearm. Her little eyes were teary. "But we are not of the same species and you are our father, right?" The little girl speaks, leaving her father speechless again. She was right, he had decided to adopt them and take care of them no matter where they were from. To tsu'tey they were his children, and always would be. Reaching over to give his little daughter a kiss on the hair. "He can stay" tsu'tey watches as her daughter begins to jump for joy, while the creature jumps with her. "but only until he can take care of himself" tsu'tey orders, the little girl accepts all excited. Hugging the baby ikran tightly. Tsu'tey had to admit that ikran babies were not something he was happy about, they were noisy and difficult to take care of.
It was very strange that he was alone, so he decided to investigate the whereabouts of the mother of this creature. And after a week of failing in his search, he proved his daughter absolutely right. Apparently the mother had left him, and she had no one to take care of him. The little ikran had one wing bigger than the other. It was not much of a difference, but this was surely the reason why he was left. Tsu'tey was happy to see how his daughter was taking care of the baby, sleeping with him. Hunting for the little ikran to eat. She looked so cute, with her little bow hunting any creature smaller than herself to give to her baby ikran. The bigger the creature grew, the stronger the bond Y/N had with her.
As the years went by…while other youngsters had to train an ikran, bond with them. And create a connection. Y/N was already flying the skies of Pandora, with taw. So she decided to name her ikran. A beautiful ikran, blue and pink in color. This surprised a lot of people, humans are not able to create bonds like the na'vi do. It created a lot of doubt and curiosity among the na'vi community, humans could have more feelings than they thought.
While the other boys were trying to bond with the ikran, even the sully boys. Y/n was calmly petting her ikran. Tsu'tey watched them curiously, himself wondering how this was possible. Watching as his daughter, hugged the creature, and the ikran closed her eyes with love and a calmness that seemed like something magical. As if the two of them were one and the same person. "You know…having that kind of bond…it's something unique and special" tsu'tey says, with some mockery in his tone. He was rubbing it in jakesully's face, that his daughter had gotten an ikran first and more effectively than his sons. Jake pouts, but laughs. "I remind you that she is my daughter too" jakesully speaks, laughing as he sees tsu'tey stand up straight. Pushing him a little, and walking away from jake.
Tsu'tey walks towards his daughter, touching her hair. The girl looks up, giving her father a big smile. "Sempu…taw is more beautiful every day, don't you think so?" the girl speaks, seeing how her daddy looks at her with such admiration and adoration. "You're amazing sweetie" tsu'tey says, seeing how his little girl giggles. And she answers him with a ' I know'. Sitting down together to watch the training of the others.
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ace-of-gay · 9 months
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Tiny for today
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Loki x little! reader
Warnings: age regression, little names like baby, tiny. Caregiver name like daddy, (i think thats honestly the only one)
Items like stuffies and paci, bottle. Reader regresses to newborn headspace
No weight, skin color, or gender mentioned.
Age regression is a coping mechanism if you dont like it please dont read it or educate yourself on the topic but please be respectful
Any hate will be deleted
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Waking up doe eyed and deep in your headspace, loki knows immediately just from the glance you give him, turning the lights lower so not to hurt his sweet baby's eyes, he walks over, putting in full effort to keep a kind gentle demeanor, “good morning my dovey, were tiny today aren’t we?” He questions, knowing hes not going to get an answer.
“Yes, I believe we are, which means it’s a daddy and baby day hm?”
He would be lying if he said this want one of his favorite types of regressions you do, he doesn’t get to see his little one like this all that often, the sweet sparkly eyes are a given, those alone have him wrapped around your finger, hes at your beck and call or more so your babble and cry but right now the sweet gentle hold of your eyes to his approach, “yes, indeed, a divine rainy day for daddy and his little star” he coos at you, running his supple hand over your cheek, cherishing every ounce of adoration his heart could feel in the wake of your smile.
A small tiny babble of pure love and wanting to feel him hold you, he took this with immediate understanding, as you move your arms somewhat aimlessly he helps loosens you from the blanket so you don’t accidentally bend your arms or hands in a way that would strain or pull on them funny.
Lifting you into his arms, holding you chest to chest with him as he grabs a paci from the bedside table and your stuffy from the bed, he carries you to the living room a bounce in his step to soothe you and a hum in his chest, he knew you loved this he would make sure to have one of your hands above his chest so you could feel the vibrations of the sweet thrum of his voices resonation in his chest just for you.
Laying you gently on the couch he holds your stuffy above you to boop your nose with its nose, making kissy sounds as he taps the stuffys nose against your smiley cheeks and sweet delicate nose, he lays the stuffy atop your chest where your little hands could easily grasp it, he turns to move the coffee table to the side of the room, going into the closet, pulling out the padding mat your favorite blankie for when you’re tiny and a few other things, making a comfy little place on the floor for you, much safer than having you somewhere you could fall.
After transferring you to the little nest as he called it he gave you your paci turning on comforting calm music and going to the kitchen to make himself tea and you a warm bottle of milk, keeping his eyes on you as he does this.
When he returns to you he sets his tea aside wanting to make sure you got your bottle first since you couldn’t quite tell him when you needed food or drink he wanted to make sure you weren’t neglected in your needs, holding you gently in his arms making sure you were comfy in his arms before he goes to take your paci but you trill in soft baby giggles when you refuse to let him take it.
“Oh silly baby, someone’s being mischievous and its not me for once, can daddy take your paci? I have a bottle of warm yummy milk for my baby” to which you allow him to take the paci cause I mean what little one would pass up a yummy bottle in the morning.
Hes full of adoration, especially when you suckle on the bottle so intently with half lidded eyes, like it took all of you to just do the small things and that’s perfectly fine with him, its what hes here for, hes here to take care of his baby, hes honored that you trust him with you in such a vulnerable state.
After your bottle and all related in that he takes small comforting sips from his tea before pulling out one of his many books, it didn’t matter what he read aloud so long as it was appropriate, his favorite writings were old poems of sweet rotations of love how it be that planets circle the sun in a dance that with their gravity pulls causing the star to dance from a tiny wobble. One hand holding the book and his other running through your hair, today was about his little one, making sure to keep you happy and calm, he’d plant every tree on earth in light of the sun and down of the rain if it meant he could see your smile everyday the way he sees it right now.
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