#Baby!reader

[nosyrobin]

Nightwing: behold! My secret weapon!

(Dick pulls out chubby baby!reader who smiles with their gummy teeth.)

Criminal: MUHAHAHA stupid hero! No baby can—

(Criminal accidentally stares into the pure soul of chubby baby!reader who reached out to the air as they kick their cute baby feet and giggle)

Criminal who is now distracted: Awwww! How old are they?

Nightwing who is now gushing at the baby, completely forgetting his mission: 6 months old ! They are such a cute baby.

Criminal with heart eyes at how cute the baby is: they’re like a sack of potatoes!

(Robin popping up out of no where and clocking the criminal upside the head to knock them out.)

Robin: Our mission is done. Let’s go home, I wanna show Y/N all my sword collection.

[steor-ra]

Jason: you think you could make me fold just by being stupid and cooing disgusting spit bubbles?

Jason: well you're...!

Baby!Y/n babbling and cooing at bigbro jayjay while making grabby hands at him. Trying to reach his face and puckering her lips: hmmh

Jason: –So so right! AWE BABY! *smashes his cheek to theirs and proceeds to rub against it*

Meanwhile Tim is sipping coffee in his room as he watches from the camera the newfound blackmail for his jerk of a brother

[elizabethsnuts]

So I don't know if you've seen spy kids 3, but basically there's a scene where the mum has to go on a mission with her baby because she has no baby sitter and she just carries her in a baby carrier. The scene is low-key badass. Anyway, I was wondering if you could do something like that for winterwidows daughter. Like they have no one to babysit her and she has to go on the mission with her parents.

P.S. I love your work.

Family Mission

WinterWidow x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Bucky have no babysitter for you so they have no choice but to bring you on a mission to take down a HYDRA base.

A/N: Thank you for all the support on my work! It really means a lot to me that others enjoy reading it. It was my one year posting on tumblr a couple days ago, happy late tumblr birthday to me!

———

The morning sun filtered through the Avengers kitchen, casting a warm glow around the room where Bucky was finishing his coffee. Natasha, who was already dressed in her black tactical suit, was adjusting the baby carrier strapped to her chest, inside the carrier was you, gazing up at your mother with wide, curious eyes, cooing softly.

Bucky approached the two of you, his metal arm glinting in the sunlight. "Are you sure about this, Nat? Bringing Y/N along on a mission?"

Natasha gave him a reassuring smile. "We don't have much choice, do we? We can’t just keep her here by herself. Besides she’ll be looking at me the whole time."

Bucky leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. "Alright, we’ll keep her safe."

———

You all quickly boarded the Quinjet, where Tony was pacing the floor. Steve and Clint were gathered around a large holographic display of their mission target: a HYDRA base nestled in the Siberian wilderness.

Tony glanced up as Bucky and Natasha entered, you looked over to Tony with your little legs swinging in the carrier. "Well, look who's here. And they brought a little guest." His tone was a mix of amusement and surprise.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Y/N? Are you sure about this?"

"We don't have a babysitter," Natasha said with a hint of defiance. "We'll manage."

You were secured in your carrier, staring at the flashing lights and buttons inside the jet, your tiny hands reaching out to grab at the air. Natasha couldn't help but smile at your innocence. Bucky sat beside the two of you, keeping a watchful eye on both his family and the surroundings.

The Quinjet hummed as it sliced through the sky, descending towards the snow-covered landscape of Siberia. As they approached the drop zone, Tony ran through the plan one last time. "Alright, Natasha, Bucky, you're with me. Clint, Steve, Thor, you take the north entrance."

The team split into their assigned groups. Natasha and Bucky, with you securely strapped to Natasha's chest, moved stealthily through the forest. The snow crunched softly under their boots as they approached the base's southern entrance.

You played with the little beanie on your head, giggling quietly as you touched the fuzzy pom-pom. Natasha looked down and smiled at your happy mood, though her face had a hint of worry.

The team were able to hack into the security system, disabling the cameras and unlocking the doors.

"We're in," Steve whispered through the comms.

"Okay, Malyshka," Natasha whispered, adjusting the sound-dampening headphones over your little ears. "Time to be a good girl for Mama and Daddy."

You giggled and waved your tiny hands around as if you were part of the mission. You had no idea what was going on but you liked going on an adventure with your parents.

The three of you slipped into the shadows, Bucky’s eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of movement. Natasha moved silently, her skills honed from years of time in the Red Room. Your presence, surprisingly, didn’t hinder her. Instead, it seemed to sharpen her focus, giving her a greater purpose which was to keep you safe.

Inside the base, the corridors were eerily quiet while dimly lit. The team had done their job well, creating diversions and taking out patrols. Bucky and Natasha moved methodically, their silent communication seamless.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Natasha whispered to you, her lips curving into a smile.

As the central control room became closer into view, you began to babble softly, your eyes wide with curiosity. Natasha glanced down and smiled. "Almost there, Dorogoy," she whispered.

Bucky placed a small charge on the door, and they waited for the soft beep indicating it was ready. With a nod, the door blew open, and they rushed inside.

Alarms blared throughout the base. HYDRA reinforcements were closing in fast. Natasha and Bucky moved swiftly, taking down enemies with a coordinated dance of skill and precision. You in your carrier, just watched Natasha with a smile on your little face, your tiny hands clapping at the flashes of movement, oblivious to the danger.

With the last of the Hydra agents taken down, Natasha and Bucky quickly began gathering data from the computers. Steve’s voice crackled over the comms. "Status?"

"All clear," Natasha replied, her fingers flying over the keyboard. "We’ve got the data."

Navigating through the maze of corridors, they reached the exit quickly and ran back into the snowy forest.

“Mama!” You giggled, your little fingers tangled in her hair as flakes of snow hit your little pink cheeks.

Natasha laughed and kissed your head. “You did your first mission! You did so well!”

———

Back on the Quinjet, as they soared towards home, Natasha leaned back in her seat, exhausted but relieved. You, now sleepy, nestled against your mother's chest, your tiny hand gripping Natasha's suit.

"You did great today, baby," Natasha whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You babbled sleepily and closed your eyes, now feeling all warm in safe in Natasha’s arms. You loved the little adventure you had today.

[agerefandomstuff]

Hey, i rq'ed the cg sam hcs, and i loved them!!!! I was wondering if you could do some more cg sam hcs, but for a babyspace little! Have a fantastic day <3

I had writers block for a while so I’m very sorry for getting to this so terribly late. As an apology here’s an entire no-beta Baby!Reader Cg!Sam fic;

Word count: 2248

Title: Finding Comfort in your Role

(I don’t know I might change that title)

The boys come back to the hotel and find you regressed.

Although you’d been regressing around Sam for a while now, it was always in short bursts and he personally had yet to start prepping you beforehand or help you out of anything after. You’d always done that part on your own since this was all brand new to him and it made you both more comfortable if you handled changing into different clothes and diapers until a bit later in his soft launch caregiver trial.

However when the boys came back from their hunt today, you were sat on the motel floor, half undressed, chewing on the remote with that innocent fuzzy look in your eyes Sam was beginning to find familiar. He knew you'd talked about unintentionally regressing before but he still assumed it wasn't like a… demon possession or something. It didn't just suddenly happen, catching you off guard, did it? Surely you always felt it coming on..?

While he had a ton of his own questions rattling around in his head–along with all of Dean’s mildly rude ones–he didn't have any good immediate answers. But researching couldn't be his number one priority. That was you. And also getting that nasty remote out of your mouth. Even though no one other than his brother had touched it since they’d been here, they didn't exactly have a reputation of checking into the cleanest of places. But even if they did, who knew what was on Dean’s hands?

“Hey baby…” Sam dropped his bag of equipment on the floor and rushed over to you, gently tugging the remote from your hands and out of your mouth while you were luckily distracted by the excitement of seeing him come back. Tossing it up on the bed and away from your eager little hands, he uses his strength to his advantage by scooping you up under the armpits and setting you on his hip with a continued coo. “Oooh up.. there you go…Hi, baby.. Hi.. What happened?” He asks in a deceptively light and playful tone, not wanting to potentially scare you by talking in the same overly gruff tone Dean did when he was confused with concern. You didn't respond in any real words, only giggles and confusing garbled babbles.

Dean finally follows Sam inside, locking the door behind him and setting their weapon bags away in the closet where you wouldn't be able to get to them as easily if you suddenly decided Sam’s appearance was no longer interesting and fun to make noises at.

“Hm? Can you tell me what happened, pumpkin?” Sam asks again, hoping maybe since you had responded–as childish and incomprehensible was it was–that perhaps you might miraculously get a real word out of your lips to give him a hint of what caused you to regress. That plan is quickly given up on along with his attempts to put your jacket back on.

While briefly glancing around for your missing sock he finds his duffle bag of clothes strewn about the floor. no doubt something you had gotten into.“Oh… that's…I see you found.. my clothes.. instead of your own…” he tugs your jacket off your arm and lays it beside the wet remote while he calls out to his brother who was already making his way over, “Um.. Dean? Could you grab–”

“On it.” Dean answered, knowing his little brother well enough to already be looking for your bag, having the same thought that you must have been looking for something earlier.

As he searched you’d began to play with Sam’s hair, tugging on it slightly then giggling when he would try to gently pry your hand away with quiet complaints of pain.

Finding your bag slipped down between the wall and the side of the bed, Sam comes over to search for the supplies he assumed you had been searching for with a rapidly regressing mind. He was hoping there would be something inside you could occupy your busy little hands or mouth with that might save his poor scalp from more pain as you continued to tug on his hair.

“So are you going to answer any of my questions about what's going on or at least give me an idea of what I might be looking for?” Dean asked, helping pull things out from the bag since Sam was struggling to do so while holding you and trying to fight your surprisingly persistent hands. Now Dean has no issue going through someone else's belongings if it's necessary… (or if it’s fun), but he really wasn't sure what he was supposed to be getting out of your bag. He could guess it was something you owned that would relate to whatever… relationship you and his little brother had but…he had been purposely trying to keep himself a bit in the dark on that one so he needed a little direction for his search.

“Um..” Sam started out, unsure himself of what exactly it was that you might bring or if you had even brought anything at all. “A… pacifier? Or maybe those… key– the plastic key things? The chewing things?”

“Teethers?” Dean asked while he attempted to decipher his brother’s inexperience while tugging out more clothes and a whole lot of nothing else and–teethers? Pacifiers? What? Sure he made the guess, it was his first thought! And it made sense with the context clues and the way you had been chewing on the remote and how your fingers are now in your mouth—! Man. He doesn't get this. But whatever, that doesn't matter. He's just gotta help Sammy because boy does he look like a fish out of water.

“Yeah! Teethers! They keep dirty remotes out of mouths and little baby fingers away from adult teeth. Don't they, baby?” Still trying to keep his voice light and gentle and half talking to you more than Dean, Sam begins tugging your fingers away from your mouth. Shushing your whines as said fingers catch on teeth that just didn't seem to understand that they could fix the issue by simply opening up your mouth a bit wider—

“There isn't anything in here for that. Are you sure you packed it?”

“Packed it? I only packed my bag!”

“Why wouldn't you pack a baby’s bag, idiot?”

“It was an adult’s bag at the time, not a baby’s, so I wasn't asked to, asshole!” Sam argues back, starting to rock and bounce you in an effort to distract you from your hand and their bickering. “So no I didn't pack any teethers or stuffed animals or diapers or—”

Dean’s head whipped up and his stomach dropped to the floor as they both seemed to come to the same realization. Frozen in place they had to pry their gazes away from each other’s to you as if expecting to find that you’d had an accident that very moment. Their eyes slowly, in comedic sibling tandem, drag down your frame resting on his hip.

You didn't.. look.. wet…? At least… not this moment you didn’t.

“Are…they.. necessary..?” Dean asks slow and hesitant, unsure if he was even allowed to ask or know about that kind of information about you. After all, he wanted to stay in the dark about some things! Out of respect! And because he really didn't need to know everything about his brother’s relationship– the same way Sammy didn't need to know everything about his!

“Uh..” Sam clears his throat, trying to remember if you'd ever used them around him before or perhaps mentioned whether you had a history with it or not… but all he knew is you wore them sometimes. That was a part of your before and after prep that he didn't have a hand in yet. He hadn't been given the rundown! No tutorial! But also.. he hadn't ever really asked about it. He was going to… eventually… It's just.. there were so many things he was getting used to with this and he was getting a bit overwhelmed with researching it—because who knew there were so many subgenres and conflicting information– and h-he just hadn't gotten to it all yet…

He looked back up at Dean, visibly tense and uncomfortable. “I dont… know…”

Eventually, after some bickering, Sam sent Dean to the store to pick up diapers. And whatever other supplies he would inevitably decide were “ultimately necessary for a baby’s survival.” Regardless of whether they actually were or if he was just grabbing stuff. But he couldn't complain too much since out of the two of them Dean did unarguably have more experience with kids. From raising his younger brother, to briefly having a family, and even the shapeshifter baby, his knowledge was one Sam was going to have to just appreciate and learn from. When he wasn't able to get direct understandable feedback from you anyway—the actual baby in question. Little coos and babbles didn't exactly help let him know if he should let you sit on his brother’s bed or his while he waited for Dean to come back with padding.

Leaning on the side of caution, he chose to lay you down on a towel he laid over Dean’s bed, something he's sure he’ll get an earful about later if you do pee.. but it would be better than if it was his bed. In the few moments he left you alone on the bed to grab one of his shirts off the floor, you’d mysteriously managed to make your second sock disappear into the wind and you’d tugged your current shirt over your head in an attempt to… suffocate yourself or something? He could only guess the reason. As he helped take off your shirt restraint he couldn't help but keep thinking; How were you doing that? You were so quick with it, it's like he couldn't take his eyes off you without another clothing issue arising.

Hopefully that would change after he changed your clothes. After folding your shirt and tucking it away in your bag he fights your squirming legs and ferocious little feet to get your pants off so he can check for any potential damage. Once you were down to your luckily dry underwear he helped you sit up, only to struggle getting your arms into the sleeves of his shirt. Considering you weren’t doing a whole lot of actual fighting against him, this task was surprisingly difficult for Sam.

With great effort he finally managed to slip his shirt over your head and down your torso. You flopped back on the bed, attempting to take a foot with you and whining when you couldn't bring it all the way to your mouth. The action made him laugh and lightened his mood since while you seemed to not be very aware of everything at the moment, not taking in how stressful everything was with the boys’ bickering, not having any supplies available, him not knowing specific and kind of necessary details, he was. He was taking in it all.

You weren't in the headspace to worry about any of that. You were too little. He was the one who had to worry about it and take care of it. He got to handle it. He was taking on the issues that… honestly? Really weren't even that big of a deal. A missing sock and getting your hair pulled by a baby were just things parents dealt with... and.. that's… what he was there for. Wasn't it..? It’s what you needed from him. To worry about things you were too small for and take care of them until you were able to again. And really.. no one’s lives were at stake right now. This wasn't a life or death or a monster hunt. It was just caring for you. Baby you.

Smiling down softly at you, you dropped your foot as you seemed to feel how he was looking at you differently. It was less worry and unease. He wasn't still deciding if he was uncomfortable with the situation or like he was afraid he might not be following the rules of a game right. He was simply content… content with enjoying your contentment. Even if you weren't in the headspace to soak in that information with as much acknowledgement as you would a different time, you could still feel the atmosphere change which left a growing smile on your face. Sam huffed out another small laugh seeing such a cute little look coming from you and couldn't resist leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

It had finally clicked in his mind what kind of caregiver he was.

“Little angel..” he whispers softly, petting a big hand over your belly then combing your hair with his fingers to be a little less messy. “I got you. We’ll get you padded up and play a bit then we’ll set you up to take a nap. Since.. daddy can only guess the last time you slept well.”

He was yours.

He was your parent when you needed it.

He was there to take care of you and handle the little issues he could. Missing socks included.

The next few minutes waiting for Dean to come back were mostly quiet, only soft giggles combined with Sam’s little sweet words as he cooed at you as you played with anything he would let you. Which ended up being mainly his fingers and shirt sleeves… but he also let you play with his hair as long as you didn't tug too much.

[mymelodymia]

Fatherhood // Dad!Tony stark x baby!daughter!reader

Summary: tony stark has baby daughter <3

Warnings: none (let me know if i messed any)

Age: newborn

A/N: kinda short but i need to get a fic out. Pls ignore my inactivity lol

🩰˚~˖𓍢ִ໋ ♡*°◇🎧✧˚.🎀༘⋆◇+💕*°♡+

Tonys foot tapped anxiously as he paced back and forth in the hospital waiting room. Pepper was in labor. In the process of giving birth. Tony had never been so afraid.

He was scared he'd be a terrible father. That he'd mess up with you. He was snapped out of his racing thoughts when Natasha placed a hand on his shoulder, getting his attention.

"You okay?" She questioned tony, he nodded his head quickly in response before asking Steve how long it had been for the seventh time.

"Two minutes since the last time you asked." Steve smiled, looking at his watch. He had asked this every 2 or 3 minutes.

Tony sighed anxiously, gasping as the nurse he had been bothering for the last 30 minutes asking about pepper walked through the door, her pink scrubs swooshing as she walked toward him, with a warm smile on her face she spoke.

"Shes here." She giggled at the worried father. Tony immediately brushed past her into the room. His eyes immediately fell on pepper, sitting up and holding a small pink cloth too her chest.

His jaw fell agape, hitting the floor. He waddled over to her. She smiled at him.

he placed his hand on her arm, she folded his arms in the correct position and placed his daughter in his arms. She was swaddled in the soft pink cloth.

He looked into her deep e/c orbs as she blinked at him lovingly. Making a funny face, which made you smile and coo at him.

🩰˚~˖𓍢ִ໋ ♡*°◇🎧✧˚.🎀༘⋆◇+💕*°♡+

All of the avengers rallied into the room, all taking turns holding you. Tony holding his arms under theirs, afraid they would drop you. Even bucky.

Eventually they all went home, tony held you in his arms, sitting near the window, and fell asleep there too.

The nurse he'd been bothering all day had to pry you out of his grasp and put you in a crib.

He woke up 0.3 seconds after you would began to cry. Immediately jumping up to sooth your cries.

Of course he treated pepper like a queen. Helping her to the bathroom whenever she needed to go. Ordering breakfast for her, going out to target to get her fluffy socks when her feet were cold.

Pepper knew he'd be an amazing father as he rubbed her feet and rocked you to sleep in his free arm.

Doing everything and anything to allow his wife to rest.

🩰˚~˖𓍢ִ໋ ♡*°◇🎧✧˚.🎀༘⋆◇+💕*°♡+

🩰Tags🎀

@animealways // @white-wolf-buckaroo // @tonystark-au // @zebralover // @yummyangy // @carellmcu // @mariasabanahabanabana //

[dearest-painter]

We need a oneshot of Miguel finding out baby!reader backstory. Imagine everyone's shock and sadness when it revealed baby! reader dad was Miguel and he died while reader was with him on a stroll and the reason why they don't like gunshots and cover their ears

(he got shot with a gun forgot to mention that)

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship, abusive behavior, abusive relationship, Mentions of being killed, mentions of guns, No one is safe from angst, tell me if I need to add anything

Summary:Everyone was so confused on why you were confused why you were clingy to Miguel until they learnt your life before them…they realize the truth of you being clingy to Miguel

Miguel held you close as he was sitting in his chair, he was humming as it was close to your nap time. Everyone and including him was very confused on why you were clingy to Miguel so he got Lyla to see why. “Miguel…I found out their past…” Miguel saw and heard the sadness in Lyla’s voice and face. “Show me” she sighed and showed him an article from your universe. ‘FATHER SHOT TO DEATH IN STARLIGHT PARK IN BRAD DAYLIGHT’ then he read the the first few words. ‘Miguel O’Hara was with his child, Y/N O’Hara, in the park when he was shot five times. Police are still looking for the suspect, a funeral and a fundraiser will start in the name of Miguel O’Hara July 5’

He looked down at you…he died in your universe with you near him during it..that explains why you hate Webslinger and Noir’s guns…your afraid they’ll take him away from you again. “Thank you Lyla…” she nodded her head and played the white noise again for you, they both looked at you very upset face. “Tell Jessica and the others about it…they have a right to know at least.” Lyla nodded and went to send it out. “Daddy loves you and he’ll always be with you, no one will take me away from you” he kissed your forehead and nose as he rested his forehead against yours smiling slightly as in your sleep, put your hand on his cheek.

[i-writes-things]

Because bedtime is a-

Characters: Any mother figure you see fit. and You as like a 4 year old.

"Because bedtime is a fucking crisis!"

She looked down at you, and all of a sudden you felt small again. She was in shock and you were standing there in horror knowing you should not be referring to bedtime as a crisis. You crossed your arms and pouted. Thinking this would keep your tears away, but it only brought them faster.

"Hey, bedtime is not a crisis. It's-" She could hear the whimpers starting. "Hey, hey." She picked you up as the tears started to fall. "You're not in trouble, baby. Oh I love you." She kisses your cheek, chuckling. "We just aren't allowed to say that word. Okay?" Nodding into her shoulder she walked down the hall to your room. You were sure you would never say the word crisis again. Ever. Never. Not fucking ever again.

[huitzilinthebudgie3]

Nuestra Flor

Summary : Marc had a shitty day…and suddenly there's a Baby waiting at his doorstep………

What's Marc gonna do ? What's a guy to do ?

Notes : I know it's kinda out of order but , my minds kinda like a squirrel and this is kinda theraputic for me. I hope you guys like it , because it's not really what is seen in Para ti Papa..this is just a bit into how i think Marc , Steven and possibly Jake would've handled raising a baby girl.

And i know it's not mentioned but , it is not as canon to the show as it should be…i caught it and Steven and Marc know about eachother….but Jake is still hidden.

So it'll be interesting …..

 ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Marc was having a shitty day , he was getting home from work. He had to make dinner before Layla got home …he had laundry…a room and bed to clean ….he sighed slumping down onto the couch down and someone was ringing the doorbell. He frowned and sighed walking over to said door as he opened it glancing around to find it empty. Before he was met with small coos…he blinked at the small bundle wrapped in a bright red soft blanket that was wrapped with a teal and gold quilt that supported the baby in the carrier. The baby was blowing raspberries and cooing to itself as it stared at him with a curious look before giggling and kicking it’s small plush toy out of the carrier. 

Marc frowned, leaning down to read the note on the baby’s lap, as the baby babbled at him reaching out to touch him as he shrunk back and read the note that had a birth certificate. Social Security and all the paperwork that a baby its age would need to travel.

The note made Marc glance from the note back to the baby as he repeated the action twice before sighing deeply “There is no way , your mine” he murmured before flipping to the next page with a full blown paternity test confirming that he was indeed the father of said baby.

He sighed as he shut the door and getting ready to call the cops to take the baby as he threw the papers down. Well as soon as the door closed , the speed and sound of the old heavy door was enough to make a loud slamming noise that apparently startled the baby as it began wailing at the top of their lungs. 

His already shitty day was much worse as it didn’t stop after 5 minutes..nor 10 mins or 15..and at 20 it did stop but , he was curious so sue him. He opened the door to find the baby sniffling as it whined for the small plush. The baby according to her birth certificate was around 4 months old , and according to the note…sent to him as a last resort. To let the little one to get to know her father, as her mother apparently (Shitty mother in Marc’s opinion) couldn’t keep her and knew she deserved better. 

So he sighed grabbing his keys to at the very least leave her at the Fire Station. Give her a chance to live a normal life with whichever family member was written on the letter. 

And he was mind made up , on the steps of the fire station when the baby babbled softly reaching out with big wide brown eyes touching his hand before giggling at his attention and fixed him with a toothy smile (as much as a 4 month old could manage). 

 Fate has a really crazy way of throwing you hurdles…for Marc it was Steven fronting as soon as the baby touched his hand. Emotionally he couldn’t handle the idea of his blood in the broken system possibly suffering just as much as he did to someone not related to her or even getting dealt a worse hand as he sighed mentally letting Steven take the reigns. So he decided to take her to a family member and ensure she was safe with said family member. 

*2 weeks later*

It was interesting that the baby had appropriate traveling documents , as he stared at the baby . He’d purchased a set of clothes for it according to age and food, it didn’t like the car. He was currently in a diner eating breakfast as the baby cooed happily in his direction …so far other than being car-sick or teething it seemed , it wasn’t a very cry crybaby. 

“Aww she’s cute , how old is she ?” Marc quirked a brow “4 months ?” he said as the waitress hummed “Oh i’ll just wait for your mama , pumpkin” she smiled booping her nose as the baby yawned stretching out to bat at her toys hanging from the handle “Oh just us , we’re heading to visit mama” he explained. 

The waitress nodded, taking his order as he stared at the baby again “Don’t go getting attached , half-pint. You're going straight back to your mom or whoever's at this address” he said firmly as the baby giggled and kicked in excitement. She babbled in excitement but not yet having the articulation to quite form cohort sentences. 

Steven was strongly against taking the baby back to her other family members or back to her own mother. He also called the baby by its name clearly looking to get attached in his opinion. 

Marc sighed distracted by his ringing phone that had Layla’s contact…ringing and eventually stopping as another voicemail found it’s way into his contacts. In the grand age of 2008 , this baby couldn’t have chosen a worse time to make their presence known. He glared wondering exactly where this baby came from , Steven had no recollection of being with someone or even getting intimate…which Marc confirmed …as Steven ..had yet to get a girlfriend. 

And Marc had only been with Layla for months…except the kidnapped…and drunken portion of the…past few months before Layla had saved him. 

…..

…..

…..

… And suddenly this small being before him made sense…clearly he’d been with someone..he’d put that together a few days ago……………..

But how the hell was he going to explain that one ? To his wife , when it’d been his fault to begin with that he’d taken and more so that ….*sigh* he didn’t have time for this.

The small little being was cute..he had to give her credit for that “Flora..what kinda name is that ?” he murmured as the baby cooed at that reaching out for him “Flora…you look more like a y/n …but i’m not keeping ya..so thats that” he sighed drinking the black coffee as she blew a raspberry his way. 

*2 months later*

He finally found the mother of the baby , he was currently trying to talk her into keeping the baby….but she ignored him and kept walking. Refusing to acknowledge him before he set the baby down “Hey i returned her ! I’m married , you psycho !” the woman quirked a brow…she was beautiful in way that was different to Marc.And it hurt Marc…for some unknown reason…well at the time…that he could see how torn she was as she squated down and caressed the baby's cheek. Cooing words of love and affection as the baby giggled , knowing the face and kindness of her mother as she reached out ..probably craving it from a lack of it in a month. He could tell that her soul was hurting as she glared at him “I can’t keep her…she’s your responsibility now.” she said firmly “You must swear that she must never been an avatar” she said softly as Marc snorted “I’m an avatar smart ass” the woman rolled her eyes “Pues si pendejo ! I’m talking about Khonshu…Khonshu has a soft spot. He has no relation to her outside of her being your daughter. My deity is related distantly …and unlike Khonshu…she will never be able to be free of mine. I do not give her to you lightly!” the woman yelled as the baby cried out at that as the woman sighed deeply. 

Her anger melting away as she picked her up briefly rocking her gently muttering a small lullaby , Marc presumed as she walked over to him “I can’t have her live my life. And i can tell her soul and heart will be kind…she will be unable to deny her birthright” she sighed softly “And as much i want to keep her and see the person she grows into…i can’t…she can’t be tied to me . I fear he’ll be able to claim her” she said softly “So take , my sweet little flor. And grow her into the strong little rose bush that she will be” she said softly as tears dripped down her cheeks “Because i know my father will , and if you want he can help..but as the current avatar until i have a child or i die..i’ll be the avatar of my god” she sniffled setting the baby into his arms. 

Marc hadn’t even realized that he was crying until the woman kissed their daughter cheek and left apologizing once again. 

*2 months later*

Marc sighed as he sat in his and Steven’s shared apartment …he let Steven front over…and so far so good. He helped from time to time…and they had the baby and were going to try and get used to her and the idea of her before bringing Layla into this…because it was a pretty fucked situation no matter how you spun it…….

And the baby just barfed on herself…sigh…whelp enough journaling for today. 

Talk to you soon , Baby Girl. 

I hope you know I love you , and even if i’m not around…and if our start together wasn’t the greatest…i love you , bud…

….My Y/n

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

End Notes :

Thank you again for reading , let me know if you like it.

Here's a link to my AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huitzilinthebudgie

And have a wonderful day or night :)

[sabo-has-my-heart]

scenario no. 2 and fluff dialogue number 14 with baby Ace though if possible

Okay so I don't write for abuse, however this does vaguely allude to some abuse. Also! I don't have kids, I don't do well with kids, I know nothing about kids! Therefore, I hope my portrayal of little Ace and Reader are about right.... I tried if nothing else!

Warnings: allusions to abuse, GN!Reader, Ace and reader are about 2-3 years old, modern-ish AU

Word Count: 1230

     Hurrying down into the basement, you tried your best to be quiet. It was a game your foster mother played frequently after getting off the phone with your foster father. She’d tell you that it was time to hide and not come out until she got you, no matter what. So you’d pick the best hiding spot you could and stay there. Trying to stay quiet like she said until she found you. Sometimes it only took a few minutes, other times it took a couple of hours, but she’d always come and find you and give you the biggest smile, telling you how great of a job you did and how you won the game! She’d then give you a cookie or a single piece of candy before making dinner for you and your foster father. This time you had a really good hiding spot. You’d been scouring the house for good places to hide, places your mother hadn’t already found you in when you’d stumbled across the old toy chest. It was mostly empty save for a couple of stuffed animals, but more importantly, it was big enough for you to fit into. Struggling into the toy chest, you smiled to yourself, shutting the top and trying not to giggle. It would take your mother so long to find you this time! Despite the cramped space, the stuffed toys were surprisingly comforting, laying your head on them and whispering to them to pass the time, slowly dozing off. When you awoke you knew something was off, you weren’t in your bed, your mother hadn’t found you, and the house was relatively quiet. Pushing the lid open you looked around, your small face scrunching up in confusion as you looked at the basement. Furniture that had been pushed up against the walls were replaced by boxes, wooden boards that were supposed to be for a small repair project were missing and the layer of dust was already making your nose itch. Struggling to get out of the chest, you stumbled before tumbling and landing on your butt, kicking up more dust. You let out a loud sneeze before whimpering. Something felt wrong, you didn’t know where your foster mother was, and now the dust was getting in your face.

     “Who’s down there!” an unfamiliar voice shouted from the top of the stairs, drawing your attention. Getting up, you walked to the bottom of the stairs, noticing a small black haired boy. 

     “M-my name’s Y/n, who're you? What’r you doing in my house?” you whimpered, looking up at him. From what you could tell, he looked about your height, not even able to reach the door knob without a step stool as he glared down at you.

     “You stupid? This is my house, not yers! I shoul’ be askin what yer doing!” he shouted, making you shrink back as you stared at him.

     “No is not! My fos’er mommy said that she and my fos’er daddy bough’ it all on their own! You’re the stupid one!” you shouted back, your fear of him morphing into anger. 

     “Wanna bet? Come up ‘ere and I’ll show you!” he said, crossing his arms. Carefully climbing the stairs, you joined the boy at the top, looking around. It looked like your house for the most part. Same living room walls, same ugly carpet, same dirty ceiling fan. Except the furniture was all wrong. Gone was your couch, your TV, your coffee table. Your father’s ugly recliner was missing, as was your mother’s favorite standing lamp. Hurrying into the kitchen, you looked around in a panic. It was just like the living room, same walls, same floors, same cabinets, but different furniture. 

     “See? Told you wasn’t yer house! Now answer my question! What’r you doin here?” he demanded. Staring at the kitchen, you fell back onto your butt, tears running down your cheeks as you started crying, surprising the boy.

     “H-hey! Why’r you crying? Stop crying!” he demanded as you sobbed. The boy stood there for a few seconds before wrapping his arms around you, patting your back as best he could, “stop crying li’l brat! I need sleep.” Ace whispered, confusing you as your sobs momentarily ceased.

     “W-what?” you asked, about to start crying again, struggling out of his arms.

     “It’s what Dadan a’ways says when I cry to make me to stop… n-not that I cry.” he said, looking away from you. You stared at him for a moment before wiping your tears away, though still sniffling. 

     “Who’s Dadan?” you asked, wiping your nose on your sleeve, looking up at him.

     “She’s th pers’n that takes care o’ me.” he said simply.

     “Do… you not have a mommy or daddy neither?” you asked, tilting your head.

     “Non a’ yer beeswax!” he shouted, fully turning away from you now. You looked down at the floor, drawing squiggles on the linoleum. 

     “I don’t got ‘em neither. My fos’er mommy says they wan’ed ta give me a be’er home, but my fos’er daddy says they didn’ wan’ me.” you said, trying to wipe your nose again.

     “I…  my mommy an’ daddy died.” he said softly, looking back at you again. You nodded, seemingly in understanding before getting up to your feet.

     “I… I don’ know what ta do now. My fos’er mommy took care a’ me but I don’ know where she is.” you said, fidgeting nervously. The boy looked at you before taking your hand in his.

     “Come, I take you some’ere special.” the boy offered, gently tugging on your arm, only to have you tug back and shake your head.

     “My mommy says not ta go anywher’ with str’ngers.” you said, looking away from him.

     “My name’s Ace. There! Now we’r not strangers.” he said before tugging at you again. You followed him this time as he pulled you outside, leading you to a small shed, pulling a rope to open the door before leading you inside.

     “This is wh’re Dadan tell me ta go wh’n she doesn’ want me ‘round. You can stay here now.” he said as you looked around. It was a little rickety, the only place to sit or lie down was a pile of blankets in the corner, and a few children’s books and wooden ‘toys’ sat in another corner, but with no idea as to what else to do, you agreed.

     It didn’t take Dadan long to find out about you, finding Ace’s ‘smuggling’ of food out to the shed more than a little suspicious, her eyes damn near popping out of her head when she found you. After a thorough and in depth search with the help of a man named Garp, it was decided that, with no place to go, you’d stay with Dadan like Ace. Though to be honest, you were just happy that sharing a bedroom with Ace was nicer than staying in the drafty, somewhat terrifying, shed that Ace had shown you. It was different from your life before, but you liked it more, soon forgetting about your foster parents and easily falling into a surprisingly comfortable and happy life with Ace. While you didn’t remember much about your foster parents, you did remember how you’d gotten here, never more thankful that you’d crawled into the toy chest, though you were never going to do so again, just in case.

[obsesssedblerd]

“Wahhh!” 

“Nooooo!” 

“Bwahhhhhh!” 

“I don’t care, she was mine first!!!” 

“WAHHH!” 

“AHHHHHHH-” 

“Satoru Gojo,” you snap and glare at your husband, who’s burying his face in the pillow to muffle his laughter. Your seven month-old son also begins laughing. It’s so cute that you almost forget that the two were screaming at each other just seconds ago. 

Satoru lifts his head up to grin handsomely at you, feigning innocence. “Yes, wifey?” 

“Why on earth are you screaming with your son at eight o’clock in the morning?” You ask. 

“Because,” he whines, pointing an accusing finger at your baby boy, who had begun cooing adorably for your attention. “He won’t let me kiss you! Watch what happens.” To demonstrate, Satoru gently leans in, only to be stopped when the baby uses his tiny hands to push against his face with a loud whine. You stifle a laugh when he pouts, squinting his eyes at your son. “Listen, just because you’re laying here, doesn’t mean that you can just keep me from giving my wife a little smooch.” 

Your son doesn’t budge. “Bwah!” 

“Okay, and?!” Satoru exclaims with a tilt of his head.

You roll your eyes. “I cannot believe you’re actually arguing with him.” 

“Kid’s got a mouth on him.” 

“How do you even know what he said– You know what? Don’t answer that. Anyway, he’s your kid. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t sassy.” 

Satoru gasps dramatically. “I am not sassy.” Next to him, your son matches his pout with a hmph, and since he was born with Satoru’s hair and eye color, he basically looked like a tiny version of him. “See?” He asks, gesturing to his mini. “Even he agrees with me!” 

“Sure he does,” you say, then turn your attention back to your phone, scrolling through a grocery delivery app so you can start ordering things for the week 

“And back to you,” you hear Satoru continue with your son, “I just want to kiss her cheek, and you’re just– hey, no sticking out your tongue at me.” The baby babbles, and Satoru scoffs. “No, I’m not cryin’. What’re you talking about?” 

You laugh quietly. If this was how it was now, you couldn’t wait to see what it’s going to be like in the future.

[nanaomei]

WHAT I GOTTA SAY TO GET A PIECE OF THAT?!

art by: mossmaybe1 on twt

[nosyrobin]

TODDLERTWIN!READER IMAGINE‼️

ToddlerTwin!reader who is trying to ignore toddler!damian who is pulling on their sleeve. Damian had accidentally ate reader’s last cookie, making the toddler puff and huff. Damian then starts to cry loudly, not liking the silent treatment as Alfred picks Damian up. Damian glares at Alfred while yelling “no! Down!” As he pushes a chubby hand against the butler. Alfred sighs and puts Damian back down to not make the tantrum even worse. Damian goes over to his twin and sit down with a hard thump. Annoyed at being picked up, he plays with reader’s hand. Making the ticklish reader giggle. That soon makes the other twin, Damian laugh as he keeps tickling reader.

Alfred can only smile as he walks to the kitchen to make more cookies

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I am incredibly serious right now when I beg you all, please, and if you have Twitter or Tiktok or whatever to please spread the word: click on an author's profile on Ao3.

You want to know if an author has written more? Want to know if they're still writing? Want to see more from them? Want to know if they've written a trope or kink or sex scenario you enjoy?

Click on their name. And look at their profile.

I cannot tell you how many times in the last six months someone has read a new or newer fic of mine and said they (a new reader who has read nothing else I've done) "can't wait to see what you do next!" I've written 50+ fics and over a million words already.

"I don't know if you're still writing..." click on my profile. I am. I literally wrote a 128k+ fic for that ship last month.

"Would you ever do X?" "Please do Y!" I already did. Click on my name and look at my works.

Archive of our Own is a library. It's an archive. Not social media. It is your responsibility to fight back against the laziness that corporate algorithms have trained into you.

Click my author name. Just click it. Just click it.

Before you demand more, or ask if a writer will do XYZ, or wonder if the author still writing, or anything - click on their profile. Click on the author's profile.

I'm not trying to be mean or condescending or anything like that. I'm just exhausted. It's disheartening and frustrating to repeat myself ad nauseam, because someone couldn't take thirty seconds to do the tiniest bit of work to see if I've written lately, if I've written more for their ship, or scan my works to see if I've written what they're asking for. Please. Please. I'm begging.

Click the author's name, and explore before you ask.

[elizabethsnuts]

Baby Romanoff

Winterwidow x daughter!reader

Summary: Natasha and Buckys baby daughter hates being teased but she won’t stand loosing.

———

In the bustling Avengers Tower, a rainy day kept everyone indoors for lunch. Natasha, sat at the dining table with her husband, Bucky, and their precious daughter, Y/N. All the avengers had gathered for lunch in the tower kitchen due to the storm outside.

Dressed in only your diaper, you sat in your high chair, enjoying a bowl of mashed raspberries and strawberries. Your fingers clumsily grabbed at the spoon, trying to feed yourself. The Avengers, seated around the table, couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight.

As the thunder rumbled outside, your attention turned toward the towering clouds visible through the window. With your tiny arm outstretched, you pointed excitedly, your precious green eyes widening with curiosity. Just then, 7 year old Peter, Tony Stark's son, walked by, catching a glimpse of you in your high chair.

Mischievous by nature, Peter couldn't resist a little teasing. He reached out and snatched the spoon from your tiny hand, causing you to erupt in a chorus of incoherent gibberish. Your face scrunched up in displeasure, you gave Peter your signature Romanoff glare, you made sure your message was clear – the spoon was yours, and you wanted it back.

Tony, noticing the commotion, intervened, playfully scolding his son. "Alright, Peter, give it back. Don't tease her." But Peter, enjoying the teasing, held the spoon just out of your reach. His laughter filled the room as he stretched his arm away from your tiny grasp.

Your determination kicked into high gear. With lightning speed, you latched onto Peter's outstretched arm, using your tiny fingers to pinch him. Caught off guard, Peter dropped the spoon, and with your amazing reflexes, deftly caught it mid-air, a victorious smile lighting up your face.

The Avengers were amazed by your lightning-quick reflexes, applauding the little triumph. You were indeed a force to be reckoned with, inheriting your mama's resilient spirit and your papa's unwavering strength. With your face, the spitting image of Natasha, and your dark red hair mirroring your mother's, you were a sight to behold.

Bucky, always quick with a witty remark, turned to Peter and grinned. "This is why you don't challenge Romanoffs, kid."

Peter, a little taken aback, couldn't help but retort, "Why did you marry one, then?"

Bucky chuckled and replied, "Well, she's got her ways, but I couldn't resist." His gaze shifted to Natasha, who was making her way over to their daughter.

Natasha scooped you up in her arms, her heart swelling with pride. You giggled and patted the spoon against Natasha's cheek, as if rewarding her for her rescue mission. With a content smile, you handed the spoon back to your mama.

Sam Wilson, watching the scene unfold, rolled his eyes and said, "Of course, she gives it to Natasha."

Natasha smirked and replied, "That's because I'm her mama, Sam. I have special privileges."

The Avengers shared a collective laugh, realizing that the affection you have for your parents was immeasurable. You were their little baby, bringing joy and laughter to their lives. You extended your tiny arms, patting Bucky's cheeks and tugging at his hair, showering your papa with your boundless affection.

None of the avengers could deny the overwhelming adorableness of you and your unwavering devotion to your parents. With your spoon clutched back in your hand, you beamed at the gathered Avengers, as if assuring them that your love was boundless, even if you couldn't express it in words just yet.

[agerefandomstuff]

HI! i LOVED the fic you made abt the babyspace reader (finding comfort in your role) and i was wondering...could we PLEASE 🙏 get a pt 2? Your awesome, ☮️!

Sorry I disappeared for a bit. I started writing this as soon as you sent it but then life happened. I finished it tonight <3 I hope you enjoy!

Title: Finding Comfort in Your Role. Part 2

Word Count: 3990

Description: Sam and Dean came back to the motel to find you regressed. Sam got some one-on-one with you while Dean got sent to the store. Now they have to get you into a diaper. Which… is easier said than done.

Cw: cussing

Dean came back into the motel attempting to balance an ungodly amount of grocery bags in his arms and boxes of diapers obscuring his view. He gave a knock–well… kick– to the door out of courtesy, also maybe because he nearly dropped everything trying to reach for the handle. He was shocked when Sam opened the door with you back on his hip, a big smile on both your faces although Sam’s was directed just at you.

“Who is it, hon? Is that Dean with all your supplies?” he gasped softly and acted surprised as he opened the door further for Dean which made you giggle and reach out towards the mountain of baby items.

“Hey… kiddo–? Wait wait don't touch–!” Dean awkwardly started to greet only to panic as you touched a box causing him to lose the perfectly…awful balance of items he had. Everything came crashing down, toys bounced into the room and boxes of diapers crashed down onto his foot while he tried to catch anything only to fail spectacularly. “That… damn it.”

It took a second for you to decide whether you were supposed to be upset or not, turning to look at Sam with a worried expression which melted away seeing him crack up at his brother’s clumsiness. Relieved you weren't in trouble, you giggled along with him and Dean gave you two an unimpressed look that only lasted a few seconds before he had a small smile on his face as well. He couldn't help it. As much as it annoyed him that it was at his expense he also loved seeing you two happy.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up… little shits.” he grumbled as he began to pick things up hoping to hide his smile a bit and play into his hardass role, although he wasn't fooling anyone.

“Hand me a box so I can get one on the baby then I'll help you pick up your mess.” Sam held his hand out with a little snicker but Dean looked at him slightly offended.

“You don’t know how to change a diaper. I’ll have this all cleaned up before you even figure out how to unfold it and there’ll be a puddle on–” He glanced inside, noticing the towel set up on his bed. He shot up, dropping everything he’d just picked back up and pointed to the towel accusingly. “Is there pee on my bed?! If there’s pee on my bed we’re switching! I am NOT sleeping in YOUR kid’s pee stain!”

“No! There's no– Dean! We’re not switching! We already chose our beds!”

“That was before the baby pee!”

“There’s no pee!”

“I don't trust you. Lift the towel.”

Sam scoffed, “You lift the towel.”

“I’m not touching pee!”

“It’s completely dry!!”

“Then why won't you touch it?” Dean eyed him, not looking at you whatsoever despite how you were kind of the cause of this argument.

Truth was Sam knew the towel was dry. If it hadn't been he wouldn't have lugged you back onto his hip to open the door but as a sibling it was in his nature to argue with Dean and freak him out. It was fun. Plus it was making you giggle.

“Oh my god I'll help you pick things up, Dean, just stop being so dramatic.” He answered, instead acting like this had all stemmed from the mess instead of something he was definitely the cause of. Dean opened his mouth to argue more but with one more glance to the suspicious towel then the mess on the ground he gave up with a little grumble, deciding to just take advantage of the help. Afterall.. He bought way too much and it made a big mess…

Sam laid you back down on the towel, handing you a little stuffed animal that had landed near the bed, hoping it would distract you for the minute they were busy. Which, sure enough, it did. You happily squeaked and babbled to the stuffie while the boys got to work picking up items and setting them on the table in the room, Sam occasionally scoffing at Dean’s purchases.

“You really think we need this many boxes of diapers?”

“I didn't know what size to get or how many we’d have to change.”

“And what about the.. What even are these?”

“Well.. they’re.. baby supplements. Like.. vitamins, I think. Lisa’s friends would– just shut up and keep picking stuff up! Just be thankful I went and stocked up for you and your kid. That makes me a great uncle! Or– uh something.” Sam pauses to look at Dean with raised eyebrows, surprised by his ‘uncle’ comment. But right as he opened his mouth to make a smart reply Dean, who looked a bit flustered, struggled to even hold his gaze and cut him off with a defensive mumble. “Whatever. Shut up.”

Sam smirked, entertained by his brother’s embarrassment but also pleased he clearly wasn’t disturbed by his relationship with you. Even if Sam would tell you otherwise, he would always have that worry in the back of his mind that Dean might not approve of this dynamic but… Dean wasn't always a man great with his words, instead showing his true feelings through his actions. Which if his current actions were anything to go by… then a weight had been lifted off Sam’s mind, reassuring him again that being your caregiver was definitely something he enjoyed and wanted to be as long as you'd have him.

“Is that all of it?” Sam asked, glancing around the room once more and peeking out into the hallway to make sure they'd gotten it all before shutting the door and locking it.

“Yeah I think so.” Dean pried open a diaper box and tugged one of the fluffy purple diapers out, setting it beside you along with wipes and some baby powder. He smiled down at you for a brief second, watching how you chewed on the toy and played with it just like a baby would.

“Purple? There weren't any plain white ones?” Sam asked as he walked over, checking out the changing set up and pulling him out of the little moment he had with you.

Sam lightly ran his fingers over your legs and stretched them out over the bed thinking it would make the change easier than if you had them tucked up by your chest.

Dean cleared his throat hoping it would take some of the awkwardness away and batted your caregiver’s hands away, letting you bend and stretch your legs as you wanted. “I got white ones too. I got a variety.”

“Course you did.” Sam reached down for your legs again after Dean batted them away assuming Dean didn't mean to stop him from helping or that perhaps he’d done it because he had assumed Sam wouldn't want to do it. But he did want to help. You were his baby and he needed to learn this so he was going to have a part in this even if it was just something as small as straightening your legs out and tugging his shirt up to be out of the way.

But Dean quickly batted his hands off your legs again, not even giving it a second thought. He knew what he was doing and whatever Sam was doing to play with you was going to get in his way once he started to change you. This was his duty as your uncle…person… designated diaper changer? No, that sounds awful. He’ll just settle for… um…

Now Sam was annoyed. He was just trying to help and you were his anyway so why Dean wasn't allowing him to touch his own kid was ridiculous. He wasn't even doing anything yet. He was just unfolding the diaper and opening the wipes with his furrowed thinking brows as if this required a lot of deep thinking. It was putting a diaper on for heaven’s sake. How hard could that be?

This time he reached for your underwear, making an aggravated noise when Dean smacked his hands away again. It just felt personal now. “Quit it!”

“No, move over. I’ve got it.”

“It’s a diaper. I can figure it out! You act like I’m incapable or something!”

“You’ve never done it before! I have! Move over.”

Your eyes bounced back and forth as you watched them bicker, lightly shove at each other, and smacked each other's hands away when they reached for you, like teenage girls trying to avoid a full brawl but slowly bordering on one. You giggled around the stuffie’s ear in your mouth and squirmed when they would touch you for a brief moment only for the other brother to pull them back away, their focus going right back to bickering.

It took them a solid few minutes to realize that their bickering had wound you up, making you much more active and wiggly. Your clothing houdini act making a return when they both had to pause in surprise seeing your underwear had disappeared. Sam looked around the bed even peeking under it for the article of clothing, shocked and slightly horrified at your decision.

Dean was more surprised than Sam not expecting that. In fact seeing you half naked was like a wake up call to him that… you were not his kid. Or significant other. Or whatever you were to Sam. And he was… encroaching on that a bit actually. He was just supposed to be guiding his brother not over taking it. He was supposed to be his Shredder or Obi Wan… whatever. His mentor. His..big brother… not.. Dad.

Dean took a breath then put his hand on Sam’s shoulder pulling his attention away from his missing underwear search and held out the diaper to him. Sam awkwardly took the diaper from him and raised an eyebrow, unsure what he wanted from him.

“Slide it under the kid’s butt before any more pee gets on my bed.”

Sam’s gaze nervously flicked between you, Dean, and the diaper, the sudden task before him much more daunting. Sure he wanted to do it by himself a few minutes ago but that was when he was fueled by spite from his brother. Now he felt like he'd been thrown in the ocean with a boat he had no idea how to drive.

He clears his throat and tries to use one of your legs to lift you up so he could slide it under you. However.. he could only get it under one cheek and you kicked at the diaper with the other free leg. His brows furrowed in concentration as he reached for your other leg trying to lift them both at the same time but another problem arose. Adult legs were much bigger than infants’… even with his bigger than average hands. So when he attempted to lift you up with both ankles in one hand and you squirmed around you would effectively get one leg out of his hold. every. single. time.

Dean watched his little brother struggle with the first most basic step, struggling internally to not tease him ruthlessly or just take over and do it himself or both. It would be easier after all. But he told himself he would teach his little brother so he would.

Try.

He would try.

If his brother ended up being totally helpless then well… Dean would just be looking after his bed. Who could blame him?

“Roll 'em onto their side then roll ‘em back onto the diaper.” Dean offers only for Sam to huff and look at him a bit frustrated.

“Roll..? You mean right off the bed? Don't you see I’m barely keeping this little worm from squirming off already? The bed is too small for that.”

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam’s sassy complaint and stepped a little closer to gesture with his next suggestion, his subconscious itching to quit teaching to get it over with. He would do it so much faster. “Try putting your hand under the small of the back.. Right here.” He slides his hand under your back and lifts just enough for your butt to lift off the bed, your body automatically stilling and assisting his action. “To lift the butt up.. See? There. Then you can slip it under.”

Sam quickly slipped the diaper under your body before your momentary stillness ended and Dean set you back down on top of it. The material crinkled and you peered down at it for a moment. Your baby brain enraptured by the noise and familiar feeling under your butt.

Dean then took the leg closest to him and gently pushed it out, gesturing for Sam to do the same to the other leg as he reached for the powder. Realizing how hands on he had become again he quickly handed the bottle over to Sam. “Powder then pull up the front.”

Sam took the bottle in hand and looked at it like it was a new weapon for a hunt he’d only seen through research before but never gotten the opportunity to use. If he could do that he could do this. He just had to keep repeating that to himself and this would be fine. If he could do that he could do this. If he could do that he could do this. If he could–

Sam turned the bottle over to spray the powder out into the diaper but…nothing came out. He looked at Dean sheepishly as he turned it back over to screw open the top only to breathe in the cloud of powder that puffed out. You giggled uncontrollably at the sight of him coughing with a light dust of powder decorating his face which made Dean laugh as well.

Recovering from his coughs, Sam gave you both an embarrassed glare before trying again. This time successfully dumping the powder on you and the diaper. Although maybe a bit too much? He wasn't sure he didn't exactly have a reference to go off of. You giggled at the feeling of the soft powder and the cloud that came with it. You even held the toy, that you luckily had yet to make disappear like your clothes, down by your belly making it appear as if it were looking at the cloud on your skin as well. The sweet action made Sam relax once again knowing that even if he was somehow doing this wrong you were still happy and unbothered by his mistakes. You were being such a patient baby today and he couldn't be more thankful for it.

“Alright you kinda.. made a little mountain. In one place. So go ahead and rub that in a little. Like in the creases and stuff so none of us have to deal with a rash later.” Dean instructed, his mind conjuring up the image of listening to a little kid cry in the backseat of Baby due to a diaper rash they could’ve prevented... while they drove for hours… no gas station in sight… no place to buy more changing supplies… god. He had to stop before he gave himself nightmares.

Dean looked away as Sam hesitantly began to rub the powder around, hoping to give you both a bit of privacy as if he hadn't already seen it all by now. You wiggled around a bit as Sam’s hand brushed the baby powder into the creases of your hips and thighs, nervously pausing around your butt and genitals. It was an uncomfortable situation that was a part of the reason he suspected both of you hadn’t yet broached the topic of him changing you before and Dean turning away made it feel like it was.. a taboo… or extra intimate which made him more nervous but… he had to remind himself he was being a dad right now and even his brother knew that by calling himself your uncle. And while you two would have to have a conversation later about today plus reevaluating your dynamic and expected boundaries, this was an extenuating circumstance.

Assuming he was finally done he looked up at Dean and cleared his throat, holding his now powdery hand up, waiting for his instructions on what to do next. “Now what?”

Dean looked back at his brother for a moment then down at you to double check his work, still helping keep you in place with his hand on your leg while your attention had shifted to the pile of goodies on the table just a few feet away. “The front of the diaper, dude.”

“Right.” Sam went to pull the front of the diaper up to cover you but paused as he remembered his hand was still… dusty. “Uh.. what about..?” He led off holding his hand up for Dean to see better. To which he just rolled his eyes and grabbed a baby wipe, let go of your leg, and began to wipe off Sam’s hand for him. Because of course he had to do everything around here… big brothers and mentors just never got a break! He would be taking care of Sammy forever… ahem.. hopefully…

While he was busy cleaning Sam’s hand off, you took the opportunity of no longer being held in place to roll over onto your side, eyes trained on the other toys on the table and not the edge of the bed you were nearing as you turned. As you started to slip from the bed your hand shot out to the bed beside you trying to grab something to keep you from falling but you ended up only grabbing the towel which went down right along with you taking along the diaper and all the fresh powder Sam forgot to close.

Both Dean and Sam yelled as they lunged for you, Sam’s hand, damp from the wipe, slipped over your skin as he tried to grab your leg while Dean tripped partially onto the bed, snagging your arm roughly as he did which kept you from completely hitting the floor. Or at least kept your head from hitting the floor. Your feet still smacked on the ground and your poor white-powdered butt hit the bed frame but Sam was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and hoist you back into the middle of the bed, horrified you’d fallen and he hadn't been able to catch you.

Dean let go of your wrist, instantly moving to work in tandem with Sam without so much as a word spoken between them. He checked you over for injuries while your caregiver cupped your face and cooed apologies and… borderline scolds you with sweet words.

“Oh baby… I’m sorry. Daddy was distracted.. I thought you'd stay still for just a moment and… you can't just roll off the bed like that you could get hurt.. Are you hurt? Oh don't cry..” Sam kissed your forehead as your face scrunched up with tears. The way the boys were acting after your brief feeling of fear and the minimal pain you went through from falling was enough of a reason for any baby to cry. He looked at his brother much more seriously, his own panic coursing through him as he assumed you were crying from pain not reacting to them. “Dean, where’s the injury? I have tears at twelve o’clock.”

“Calm down. It’s fine. No broken bones. Maybe a bruised butt and wrist.” Dean was visibly more relaxed after his investigation, but was still looking over your wrist. He felt guilty for how hard he grabbed it when you were falling off a bed. It was embarrassing that they had acted like you'd nearly died off a cliff.

Sam sighed in relief and leaned down to press more kisses to your face, wiping any tears that started to fall down your face. If he could handle a diaper he could handle tears. If he could– oh.. He hadn't finished the diaper.

“Dean, could you finish the diaper situation?” He would have other chances to learn in the future but right now your tears needed him the most. He brushed his fingers through your hair and down your cheek as he moved to sit beside your head. Dean even helping to situate you so your head was in his lap while he finished changing you.

Sam pet down your face and spoke softly, “You're alright, honey. You're okay… you don't have to cry…”

His soft speaking was helping calm down the panic that lingered in your chest seeing them riled up but tears were still easier to start than they were to stop. You looked up at him through wet eyes, his blurred image from the tears made another cry slip out.

He ran his hand down to your shoulder, patting it slightly as he tried to think of how to make you feel better. But it was hard to think with you crying. You’d think all the years of hunting and thinking on the spot under extreme pressure would help in this situation but you were different than that. He was filled with the need to help his baby with something mundane not save you from being killed by a ghoul.

“Dean, why is it taking you so long?” he asked, the returning anxiety getting aimed at his innocent brother.

“You put the diaper under there backwards..!” Dean grumbled out in defense as he finished taping the diaper up then stepped away, subtly admiring his work.

Once he was done Sam scooped you up in his arms, putting you on his hip to hold you tight. “There. You're alright. See? Your bottom is all protected… and so are the sheets and daddy’s lap… and you're not hurt… you're okay..” He held one hand under your thighs while the other guided your head to his shoulder allowing you to cry into his shirt. He rubbed your back and shushed you while he rocked on his feet slowly, recalling how he’d seen people do that little movement to help soothe crying kids.

While you two were absorbed into your own little world, the older hunter stood back to watch in silent awe as his little brother parented. A part of him realizing his little brother wasn't so… well... little anymore. His heart squeezed at the sight of him doing for his little kid the same thing Dean had done for him when they were kids. He felt like both a proud uncle and a… and almost like a proud dad seeing his kid all grown up.

He wiped at his face hoping to get rid of some of those feelings, not that they were bad but… they only needed one big baby crying in this motel room.

After a few minutes of gentle loving comfort and Dean opening the things he bought to give you two your time, Sam had managed to successfully ride through to the end of your crying without having his own breakdown. It had gotten easier throughout your cry but there were still several moments when he couldn't stop thinking he was doing something wrong.

But now you were sleepily dozing on his shoulder, tired from the crying even if it wasn’t that long. Crying was hard work and Sam was right thinking you hadn't slept in a while. This hunt was dragging on and you didn't always get to sleep in the car very long to make up for the sleep you'd miss other times so the crying was just the right thing to push you over the edge.

Plus Dean had cleaned off a teether he’d bought and Sam had given it to you to suck and chew on while you drifted which only made you relax further into your daddy’s chest that smelled oh so perfectly like him.

You really hoped he wouldn't put you down while you slept.

For both your sakes.

[mymelodymia]

the two things I forgot in Daddys little girl

+•°+*°•+Your first word+•°+*°•+

Tony was sitting on the couch with pepper next to him, you were on the floor near the couch, playing with your dolls.

All the lights were off, the only thing lighting up the space was the movie playing on the TV.

You noticed that tony wasn't paying attention to you, so you crawled over to his and tugged on his pant leg.

He looked down at you, chuckled and picked you up, setting you on his lap.

You leaned forward so that tony would think you were falling, but pepper caught you instead, she held you. You arched your back, and leaned back.

You were now hanging upside down in peppers arms. You reached out for tony with your stubby little arms.

"Daddy!" You called out. Tony and pepper looking at you in disbelief.

"Oh, you wanted attention" tony said picking you up, nuzzling into his neck, you let out a small coo of joy. Finally

+•°+*°•+Your first steps+•°+*°•+

Tony had just given you a bath, getting you ready for bedtime. He set you on the floor after putting you in a cozy onesie.

He got some of your toys, he decided to play with you for a little while since you weren't tired just quite yet.

After a few minutes of this, he went downstairs to grab a bottle from out of the fridge for you, not even a minute later he walked back into the room and saw you standing. Waving your hands in the air to stay balanced.

He paused and walked over in front of you, taking a seat on the fuzzy carpet. The only noise in the room was the ceiling fan and your slightly shuttered breaths.

you put one foot in front of the other, tony gasped, putting his hands out in case you fell. As he started to cheer you on, you felt confidence seep into that tiny skull of yours.

"Come on baby, there you go! Yeah!" He cheered happily. You giggled at him and continued walking towards him, eyeing the bottle in his lap.

When you eventually got closer you reached out for it. Falling over in the process.

Tony caught you just before you hit the ground. He pulled you closer to him, shaking you gently, even though the excitement was oozing out of his eyeballs.

"There you go baby girl! Aaahhh! Im so proud of you!" He said as he kissed the top of your head.

After he calmed down slightly he fed you the bottle bouncing you in his arms, which made you sleepy

He set you down in your crib and you took one final look at him before you let your eyelids drop. He leaned over the railing of the crib and pecked your forehead.

When he arrived at his bedroom, which was to next room over, he pulled out a paper looking like it was centuries old, and wrote down the date and time, and above it he wrote 'y/n's first steps'

On the paper was every single achievement you had made since the day he first held you in his arms, he felt his eyes water as he continued looking at the paper.

He hated seeing you grow up so fast, he wanted his baby girl back, even though you still were, he wanted you to slow down. He felt a tear fall down his cheek. He quickly whipped it away and went to bed.

He was so proud of you.

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

A/N: i apologize if this or daddys little girl is somewhat inaccurate, but the last time a baby was in my house i was three so..