#Newborn Swaddle Bag | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chriscamopants · 4 months ago

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TEEDY BEAR

Summary: after a visit to see your neighbour Darrel’s new born baby girl, Matt is so in awe of her that he decides to exercise an age old kink he has on you later that night.

‘Oh- my god’ Matt squeaks with his mouth parted slightly and a twinkle in his eye as soon as your neighbour’s baby girl is dropped into his awaiting arms. The pastel pink blanket swaddled around her squirming body falls gently over Matt’s cradling hand, he automatically starts to bounce her.

This almost makes Matt swoon. He struggles to hide his peep of delight at the baby’s action, his smile splitting his cheeks whilst his eyes quickly flick down to yours.

You smile happily up at him, knowing how long he had been waiting to see your neighbour Darrel’s newborn. As soon as you told him Darrel’s wife had birthed a healthy baby girl he had constantly been pestering and poking you to take him to go and see her.

He had been talking about it all morning and as soon as you two had entered the threshold of Darrel’s house he had been practically bouncing off of the ceilings to have a go at holding her.

‘So I take it Lily didn’t disappoint your expectations then?’ Darrel chuckles whilst Matt slowly rocks the blanketed baby from side to side, looking at her with an adoration that only comes from a man that wants one of his own. He then repositions her within the nest of his arms so that he can lift one of his hands up to poke his pointer finger out.

‘Ahw she’s so small’ he coos in disbelief.

Softly feathering his fingertip against Lily’s little appled cheek, he traces it around her soft skin, tickling her face until her nose scrunches and she opens her mouth to babble sleepily.

‘Isn’t she just’ Darrell sighs.

Matt felt as though he could just melt into a puddle of pink joyful goo, he never wants to let go of the small child, he’s in too much admiration over how little she is.

The tiny pink shells of her lips, her soft head of blonde hair, and her whispy little eyelashes. All of these features make him subtly glance back down to you, his sweetly mature girlfriend. He bites his lips at the ‘what if?’ possibilities he fantasises in his head.

It’s almost concerning how easy it is for Matt to imagine Lily as his own baby girl gently balanced within his protective arms like a smooth little pebble worth treasuring. He utterly adores her as he stands in his white sweater and grey beanie, the weight in his arms as light as a feather.

When a person wants something, it’s easy to tell, because when you look at what you want there always seems to be this sharp tug in your gut that lets you know how desperately you want it.

Well… Matt’s heart squeezes, and his gut contorts at yet again another action of the sweet baby girl within his arms mumbling and then tilting her head to the side so that she can snuggle further back into the blanket surrounding her.

Matt really fucking wanted a baby.

‘She really is’ you decide to chime into the conversation, agreeing with an awestruck Matt that looks as though he’s on the verge of tears because of how cute Lily is. You know that Matt absolutely adores children, so the sight alone of his sunny beam down at Lily’s chubby face makes your posterior soften. You blush at the look of him effortlessly cradling the baby within his arms before subtly squeezing your thighs together and biting your lip.

Fuck.

This shouldn’t make you throb in between your legs as much as it does.

‘Oh that reminds me, Matt and I thought it would be nice to buy Lily a little welcome home present…’ you begin again, trying to distract yourself by catching Darrel’s attention. You lean over from your position on the couch to riffle around in your bag, until you find what you’re looking for. ‘Ah, here it is!’ you mumble triumphantly and wrap your fingers around the soft furry body of the little teddy bear Matt had insisted on buying for Lily.

‘Can we please get her a teddy’ he had begged you the day before, with sparkling eyes and a pout that you just couldn’t refuse.

So you had both gone down the stuffed animal isle of a store and Matt had let you pick out a small brown bear with beady black eyes and a button nose before taking it with him and happily going off to pay for it whilst instructing you to go and wait for him in the car.

Later that day you had wanted to personalise it and so decided to go to the dollar store and pick up a roll of pink ribbon, cutting off a strip and tying it around one of the teddy’s arms into a sweet little bow.

Your smile only increases the more you pull it out of the bag because of just how adorable it is. You had been itching to give it to Darrel for a while now.

As soon as he realises what it is, his eyes soften. ‘Oh goodness, you two didn’t have to do that, it’s lovely…’ he gushes, reaching out to take the teddy bear from your offering palms, to which Matt can’t help but crack a smile at your pretty face.

He cuts into Darrel’s rambling to put him at ease. ‘It’s alright- we wanted to do this for you guys, Lily deserves all of the teddies in the world! Don’t you honey?’ He affirms, before cheesing as he looks down at Lily to speak to her in a high-pitched babied voice, the kind of voice you would use when speaking to a puppy.

‘Really. It’s very nice of you, I’m sure Lily will love it… might have to wait till she gets a bit bigger to actually understand what it is though…’ Darrel cracks a joke, and both you and Matt laugh fondly. However, the vibrations in Matt’s chest manage to wake Lily up, and she opens her big doe eyes sleepily to look up at Matt in confusion.

This catches Matt’s attention and he gazes down at her, admiring the glassiness of her irises before gently shushing her and rocking her back to sleep.

‘Well what d’ya know Matt… you’re a natural, mind babysitting with your girlfriend every once in a while? Could use the help’

Both you and Matt make excited eye contact, not much persuasion needed to take special care of the tiny little angel lying in Matt’s arms.

‘We wouldn’t mind at all Darrel…’

You and Matt have been quietly laying in bed for a while now, one of his bedside lamps twinkling on a low setting as he sleepily rests his head on top of yours. He spoons you, his warm chest cozy and his bigger arms cocooning you into him further as his massive palms splay about either side of your ribcage.

You have your eyes closed, fully relaxed as Matt threads his haired legs in between your smoothened ones, his bearded face scratching your cheek every single time he squirms around ever so slightly to reposition himself.

The room is silent aside from the subtle squeaks of his springy mattress underneath his weight and each of your gentle breaths mingling with one another.

Suddenly Matt’s chest expands, and he heaves a deepened sigh, his cheeks reddening shyly at the thought he conjures up in his mind. He’s suddenly really quite horny, and the quietness within the room prompts him to start thinking about the hold he currently has over your body, and what he could be doing to it instead.

The atmosphere in the room turns hot, and Matt almost starts to overheat because his cheeks burn so much. He swallows thickly and allows his mind to wander, electrical pulses making their way down his lower half and tightening up his pants.

You of course, are oblivious to this sudden change in mood.

That is, until Matt starts to feather one of his stroking hands down your torso ever so slightly. It tickles, and his hand raises goosebumps wherever it touches, especially when his pinkie subtly nestles its way into the top of your panties, dipping downward before pulling back out and snapping the elastic waistband onto your skin suggestively. You catch on to this and furrow your brows with playful suspiciousness.

‘Matt… what are you doing?’ You muse cheekily, already clearly know what his intentions are because now you can feel his prick, its thickness hard and needy for you as it presses into your backside.

Matt doesn’t answer, instead lets out a shaky breath and simply leans his scratchy face back into your cheek to press a spongy kiss onto the now pink skin.

As he does this, the hand down at your core sensually slides over your underwear.

Matt bites his lip as he feels warm dampness already emanating from your centre when sliding two of his fingers down into the cushion of your thighs.

He touches you, slowly, teasingly, rubbing the pads of his fingers in a circular motion as he presses them into your clothed clit. This makes your folds ache, and you hiss, arching your back away from him. But Matt grunts at this and still manages to keep his torturous hand all over you, his other arm tightening around your torso and hauling you back to him aggressively.

‘Shhh, you stay put now angel’ he hushes, mumbling into your skin as you whine meekly, one of your hands coming up to squeeze the arm that is slithered around your chest whilst the other one grapples to grip onto something below Matt’s silky brown sheets. That thing you yearn to grab onto just so happens to end up being Matt’s thigh, that is clothed in his red pyjama bottoms.

You squeeze his strong muscle and feed your bottom lip into your mouth to bite it.

You then feel his smirk on your cheek as his hand begins the horrifying descent back upwards. This time, it slips underneath your underwear. ‘If you can’t hand my fingers I dread to think of how much of a mess I’m gonna make of you with my cock…’

Your breath hitches as two of his fingers slide right down your sticky slit, gathering up as much wetness as he can before stretching out your hole. This time instead of hissing, you let out a breathy moan.

‘What? Not got anything to say back to me baby?’ He taunts you when you refuse to even think about trying to formulate a proper sentence after the soft curl of his fingers around your velveteen walls. He strokes them at a languid pace.

Matt sighs when all you do is breathe heavily, ‘you’re so soft around my fingers honey… gonna feel so fucking nice around my cock too, aren’t you?’.

Your toes curl at Matt’s sweetened praise, his worship of your physicality smelling like strong vanilla scented candles and melting over your body like a dollop of sugary ice cream.

Matt loves to praise you, you’re always so good for him, and he would spend hours with his head in between your thighs just to show you how much he loved you if he could.

Kiss after kiss, his tongue layering up your dripping centre as he forces his fingers into your mouth to swallow how loud you’re being with his eyes constantly trained on just how euphoric he’s making you feel.

‘Fuck- y-yes Matt, m’always ready for you…’

You finally muster the words to express how you’re feeling, and they tumble from your mouth like a broken melody, the result of them making Matt grin even harder. He’s feeling especially bold tonight, the memory of bouncing Lily on his hip still fresh in his mind and prompting him to relay his fantasy freely onto your awaiting figure.

Suddenly, he’s sliding his fingers out of their teasing hold over your sopping wet cunt, before moving away from you and rolling you onto your back.

Matt hungrily licks away at his fingers whilst doing this, wanting to taste you whilst you’re at your freshest and untainted by him.

The sight before him makes his prick drip with precome, sticky white fluid uncontrollably seeping from out of his tip as soon as he catches how pink and alive you look. It wets his underwear and almost makes him shiver, the thought of devouring you right then and there.

Sliding your shirt up for himself, he peers down at your tits to see that your nipples have already hardened just for him, the cooler air helping with their stiffness. Matt’s mouth waters at the sight of them.

‘Hmm, holding that baby today really got me thinking about how pretty you’d look with one of mine…’ he breathlessly mumbles, dipping his head down to suck on your bottom lip. His hands soon after slip up to cup just beneath your tits that pebble and ache to be coated in his spit.

You utter a quick whine of approval back at him, your own hands trailing up his goose-bumped flesh to touch the soft scruffiness of the hair on the back of his head.

He smirks at your responsive nature. ‘Yeah? Want me to give you my babies? Fucking fill you up and keep my cock in there n’breed you?’.

Matt’s cock throbs at even the thought of this, the thought of rutting his hips into you so fast that you start to drool with your tits shaking and your back arching for his cum. The cum that he’s going to have you absolutely swollen with by the end of the night. He doesn’t want a single drip leaking out of your hole, he’ll cockwarm you if he has to, simply to hold it in there with his own slickness.

‘Please Matt… you can- you can do whatever you want to me’ you shamelessly plead, the heat between your thighs juicing up and wetting your panties, already readying you for him. He smirks at this, his pretty blue eyes twinkling as he gives your mouth one more sloppy kiss before moving downward.

‘Fucking gorgeous’ his mouth muffles upon contact of your tits as soon as he decides to take one of them into his mouth and wetly kiss on it ‘gorgeous tits… all for me yeah? All mine?’ He questions possessively, one of his hands curling around your spare breast and squeezing it wholeheartedly.

‘All yours Matt- all fucking yours’ you reply in a breathless stupor, liking the way he sucks your tit and gently rolls around your nipple with his hot tongue.

‘These tits gonna be for my baby hm?’ He questions patronisingly after pulling away from your now sticky skin, a couple of purpling marks bruising to the surface of your delicate flesh where his mouth just hadn’t been able to help itself.

Your back arches and you hum a whine in agreement, vigorously nodding your head before letting Matt roll you two around so that now your thighs are gently straddling him and he is leaning against the headboard of his bed, the silk sheets underneath you two making him slump downwards a little.

Wanna make you a mommy so bad… would you do that for me? Take all of my cum and keep it? I want you to be selfish with it baby…want you to be greedy for more of it’.

It’s no secret that Matt has a smooth tongue.

You two spend hours rolling around in the sheets, playing with each other as he makes sure to utilise it in whatever way he possibly can. But, for some reason his words have been hitting extremely different tonight. As though he has flipped a switch and pulled out all of the stops to lay it on extra thick.

Clearly, that time with you and Lily earlier had affected him in the most filthiest of ways.

Matt has shared words of breeding you before, but never to this extent, and you hate to admit it, but fuck does it soak you more than usual. Maybe just both of you being around the baby this morning makes it all seem extra real as he starts to roll your hips into a grinding motion over his bulge, but whatever it is, it’s working.

Both of you hold blushing eye contact as Matt does this, his mouth hung open and his eyes dilated. Fuck. You can physically feel the throbbing heartbeat sitting from in between his legs as he harshly grinds you over himself and releases raggedy whimpers into the air. You can tell he’s pent up, he needs you terribly, he wants you selfishly. He would fucking die for a feel of your walls sucking against his naked skin, it’s all he’s ever yearning for.

‘I want your cum Matt… please- please give it to me’ you freely beg, your head tilted down to look at him as the heated atmosphere boils in between the two of you. Your tits quickly become a focal point of interest for him before you get up off of his lap to speedily take off your slick underwear.

You toss them somewhere into Matt’s room and hear the fabric hit the floor gently. Matt gazes at your frantic figure with some form of satisfaction, his smugness evident due to the way you had absolutely begged for his cum.

He tilts his head and observes the way you clamber back onto his thighs, your hair all tussled and your skin lighting up with honeyed brilliance in the warm lamp light, casting beautiful contours all over your tits.

‘There’s a good girl’ he quips, before giving in to your expectant hands that wander alongside the waistband of his pyjamas. He simply cannot resist your puppyish eyes that stare at him to take them off. He lifts his hips up and feeds one of his hands into both his pants and underwear that teasingly travel downwards at a slow pace.

After Matt’s cock springs free, it careens back to hit his stomach and leave a wet dribble of precum near his dark snail trail. His tip is red and the veins popping over his thickness almost hurt to look at.

You swallow and start to shyly edge your way forwards, but not before leaning over to look inside of his bedside drawer. Your attention is focused on trying to rifle around Matt’s things, but he only has eyes for you, and can’t help but quickly lift his hand up to his lip line so that he can spit a thick dollop of saliva onto it.

He spreads it all over his cock and whimpers a little at how sensitive he feels whilst your hand skirts over the outline of his car keys, his rings, his wallet… until you find exactly what you’re looking for. Selecting a foil wrapper out of the drawer you messily close it once again with your chest heaving and a dewy layer of perspiration coating it.

Your weepy centre stings now, because it hasn’t been touched for a while, and you can’t squeeze your thighs together for traction because you’re currently straddling Matt’s.

You hand him the condom wrapper and he closes it within his thumb and pointer finger, before looking down at it in contemplation. After taking about 3 seconds of silence, he looks back up at you with a smirk, your hands already propped up on his shoulders for support.

You watch in horny silence as Matt effortlessly chucks the condom away. ‘We’re not gonna need one of those’ he quips as the wrapper patters gently to the mattress, now completely forgotten about in favour of Matt wanting to feel everything.

You didn’t think it was even possible to get wetter in attraction, but you were wrong.

Butterflies press against your gut as one of Matt’s hands slither up to the back of your neck. His fingertips thread into your locks and he gets a firm hold over the roots of your hair before dragging you down to have your lips on his once again.

He forces his tongue into your mouth, his desperation present with every stuttering moan he takes as he somehow manages to push you onto your back, his torso toppling over yours to change the power dynamic between the two of you once more. His fluffed hair is ruffled and bushy, his beard dark and prickly as it scrapes against the skin of your face with every twist of his tongue.

‘Always so pretty when you’re wet for me sweetheart, want my baby to have your eyes’ he mumbles through every clash of your teeth, kissing you so vigorously that sometimes he has to bite and pull on your bottom lip. He drinks you like he’s desperate for water, and you’re the only cold spring around- not that you complain though.

These thoughts only make your back arch up into his stomach, your core beyond desperate to be stretched out by him now.

‘Matt… please touch me baby- m’so sore’ you cry up into his lips, meekly pleading for him to comply and give you what you need.

And he does. Pulling away he smirks at you before trailing his nose down your jaw and focussing his kisses onto your neck. He sucks on the supple flesh there, and as he does so, makes sure to grasp ahold of his prick so that he can paint it all the way over your pink clit.

You suck him in, and his hot skin cushions perfectly around you.

He fucking loves stretching you out like this and listening to the way you let out mangled sounds of discomfort, it lets him know he’s big and it strokes his ego when you whine in pain because of how full you feel.

‘Shit… I’m never gonna get used to that…’ your voice shakes with your nose scrunching up sensitively, but Matt hushes you gently. ‘Shhh baby… I know, I know it hurts, but you’re being such a good girl, love when you let me know how nice and thick I am’.

You nod, trying to only pay attention to the way Matt soothingly strokes the backs of your thighs with his fingertips as he pushes himself deeper into your throbbing heat.

Matt makes sure to hitch them around his hips and hook your legs over his back so that the balls of your feet can brush against his ass, because it stretches your inner thighs out further.

Matt fucking lusts the colour your cheeks turn whenever he fucks you, especially on a day like today. He groans as an overwhelming amount of pleasure overcomes him.

Neither of you are lasting long for this, that he already knows.

‘Fuck- I’m never wearing a condom again with you. You feel too good wrapped around me like this’ he whimpers, and slowly begins to start up a grind. He adores the way your chin falls back in euphoria as he starts to move you on the mattress, your thighs twitching and your slick walls stroking perfectly against his stickiness.

Your eyes twinkle up at him, his words managing to almost melt you on the spot. It’s not long before he picks up the pace, his breathing rate increasing and becoming more of a breathless pant.

You almost drool at the speed of his frantic hips and can’t help but struggle a moan after every time you feel him press against your g-spot.

‘Fuck baby… if you’re not careful imma hide your birth control pills n’breed you properly. I’ll tie you up and keep you in here until I’ve fucked you enough to see that baby in your stomach’.

Matt is 100% serious at this statement. The feeling of not wearing a condom with you easily becomes one of his new favourite things as he gets drunk on the oxytocin it gifts him.

Tears almost stream from your waterline at the statement, your back now permanently arched and begging for his cum. It’s as if those words coated in pure filth just did it for you, because soon after they’re uttered and Matt reaches down to start playing with your clit, you feel an orgasm dawning over you.

It sparks and bubbles like an undulating wave that gets even stronger after every time it crashes against the walls of your gut. Your breath hitches.

‘Matt I- I think I’m gonna cum’ you struggle up to him, and Matt nods quickly, his mouth dropped open and his hips getting sloppier the more his skin erotically slaps against yours. ‘M-me too’ he stutters, his whole entire body drenched in the sweat of his efforts.

Your orgasm rattles from your stomach all the way to your ribcage, melting over your body like a psychedelic dream before you hear Matt also whimpering loudly into your ear. His forehead crashes down to hit against your collarbone and his arms shake as he too feels the phenomenal rush of his orgasm.

As he continually ruts his hips at a lazy pace, he makes sure to fill you up with all of his thick ropes of cum, the slimy hotness of it drenching both his cock and your walls with an ample amount. Finally, after feeling like he can go no more, his hips relax and slow to a stop.

Both of you pant tiredly as you trail one of your hands up to Matt’s head just so that you can appreciatively stroke it, his cock still comfortably stuffed inside of you.

As far as Matt’s concerned, he’s not moving it an inch because if he does, the cum still coated on it would come dripping out of your spent hole with part of it still strung onto his head and your folds like a string of saliva connected by two pairs of lips.

‘You keeping your cock in me?’ You muse to him sleepily, but with a tone of playfulness as you regain your breathing and stare up at Matt’s ceiling.

You can feel his gentle smile curling against your skin.

‘Wouldn’t want to get our cum all over my bedsheets now would we?’ He responds in just as playful a manner.

‘No, we wouldn’t…’.

oa: @gamermattsgf

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productviewblog · 2 years ago

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p0orbaby · 1 month ago

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Two in a Million

summary: you never thought you could love anything, or anyone, more

warnings: hospital setting, brief mention of some birth stuff

a/n: based on the cutest request

word count: 1.7k

Alessia is sitting in the corner of the hospital room, cradling a bundle that barely seems big enough to be real, and you’re wondering if it’s possible for a person to spontaneously combust from overwhelming, inconvenient levels of affection. It’s nearly midnight, and you’re both exhausted. She’s in this awful grey armchair that doesn’t look like it should belong in a maternity ward, but rather in an outdated office where everyone’s still doing things on paper. A flickering bulb above the chair gives the room a kind of low-rent horror movie ambience, but Alessia, hair pulled back in a messy knot and skin glowing with a sheen of sweat and exhaustion, somehow looks like she’s modelling knitwear for a Christmas catalogue.

The baby—your baby—is swaddled in a white hospital-issued blanket with a generic, utilitarian blue stripe, looking like a little bean bag that’s somehow fallen into her arms. She’s talking to it in that soft, breathless way that you didn’t even know she was capable of. The timbre of her voice is hushed and calm, like she’s afraid the baby might vanish if she speaks at a normal volume, or start screaming again, which you’ve already learned happens with the slightest provocation. It’s ludicrous, really. Alessia’s got a newborn in her arms, a tiny person whose existence just became official eight hours ago, and there’s something about it—her—the whole scene that makes your throat tighten and your chest swell with a feeling you can’t quite define but will probably overanalyse at three in the morning when Alessia’s asleep and you’re up Googling “how to stop obsessing over your own wife.”

You’re still in the hospital bed, wearing a gown that feels like it’s made from sandpaper and regrets. Your legs are aching, though for different reasons now. The baby had been a swift arrival, an early goal in the first half, but with enough of a dramatic finish that you’re already bracing yourself for when Alessia’s friends inevitably compare it to her scoring against Sweden. There’d been shouting, gripping the edges of the bed, Alessia almost crying, and then—everything seemed to go still, at least in your memory. Now you’re here, facing the surreal aftermath, and Alessia is behaving like she’s been holding babies since she was two, all natural and maternal in a way that is both endearing and, if you’re honest, a little unfair.

“How’re you feeling?” she asks, glancing up from the baby’s barely-there face with her gaze too earnest, and too concerned, because this is Alessia, who plays for Arsenal and has been to World Cups, and yet when it comes to you, she always looks like she’s not quite sure how to fix things.

“Fine,” you say. You’re not fine. Your whole body hurts, your hair is still sticking to your forehead, and you’re fairly sure you’ll never sleep again. But she’s looking at you with the baby still nestled in her arms, and you’d rather drop dead than say anything that might make her worry right now.

Alessia smiles faintly. ��Liar”

“Shut up. I’m enjoying the view”

And you are. She’s wearing the t-shirt she threw on at two in the morning when your waters broke—a white one with faded print of some bar in Ibiza that you both went to on a holiday five years ago, when everything was tan lines and free drinks and an overwhelming sense that your whole life would be one, endless summer. There are little details that rush back to you when you see that shirt: the way Alessia had tried to convince you to go skinny-dipping at three in the morning; the taste of tequila on her lips when you finally pulled her away from the bar; the sickening realisation, two weeks after you got back to London, that you never actually wanted to live without her.

You’ve become fixated on the way her hand cups the back of the baby’s head, as if she’s afraid that at any moment it might just float away, like a helium balloon. She hasn’t stopped staring at it since the nurse handed it over, which makes you wonder if there’s some kind of brainwashing involved, because you’ve seen her focus on a football before and she wasn’t this intense. She’s watching it breathe, which you suppose you should be doing too, but instead, you’re thinking about the shape of her mouth as she talks to it—small, slow movements, like she’s enunciating every word for the first time.

You half-laugh, half-sigh, trying to shift your weight in the bed without accidentally setting off some kind of alarm. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve gone soft”

Alessia looks up, a spark of mischief in her eye, because she knows exactly what you’re doing. “You should talk,” she says. “I heard you crying during labour”

“I wasn’t crying, I was pushing,” you argue, even though you were crying, and you both know it. “That was a push noise”

“A push noise,” she repeats, one eyebrow lifting. “Like a kettle”

“Like a warrior”

“A warrior who sounded suspiciously like she was going to ask for gas and air three times in a row,” she says, and you’re about to reply when the baby makes a sound—an indistinct sort of whimper that cuts through your bickering like a referee’s whistle.

You both freeze, your eyes locking on the tiny human, who has yet to fully open their eyes or make any indication of having a personality. But still, the room falls into that same unnatural stillness that seems to accompany the presence of a baby, and for a moment, you’re not sure if you should even breathe too loudly. Alessia is holding it—him—closer now, rocking him with a rhythm that is suspiciously perfect, as if she’s been practising in secret all these years. You wouldn’t put it past her. She’s probably been sneaking into maternity wards for extra training sessions after practice.

“He’s—perfect,” Alessia whispers, her voice softening as though she’s confiding in you some great, earth-shattering secret.

You stare at her, and then at the baby. “You say that now,” you mutter. “Wait until he starts throwing tantrums”

Alessia laughs, and it’s this little breathy thing that makes you want to do something reckless, like kiss her, or propose all over again, or tattoo her name across your forehead. You’re a mess. Maybe it’s the hormones, or maybe it’s just Alessia, who’s always been able to unravel you with nothing but the curve of her smile or the tilt of her head.

She looks down at the baby again, and you notice for the first time that her hands are trembling slightly, just a barely-there tremor that only you would recognise, because you know her in ways that no one else does, not even Ella, who’s still texting you memes about Arsenal’s latest loss. There’s something almost comically endearing about Alessia sitting there, trying so hard to hold it together, while holding a baby that weighs less than a football and smells faintly of baby powder and something else—something sweet, and soft, and human.

You find yourself thinking back to that night in Ibiza again, when Alessia had told you, in a drunken slur, that she wanted to have kids with you someday. You’d laughed, not because you didn’t believe her, but because the thought seemed so insane, so far away from the lives you were living then. It was all sunburns and sandy sheets, overpriced rental cars and bad pop songs; the idea of a baby, of this, was a fantasy you didn’t know how to hold on to.

And now he’s here, eight hours old, and Alessia is looking at him like she’s never looked at anything before. Not the football pitch, not you, not even the last slice of pizza on a hungover Sunday morning. It’s like she’s seeing the world for the first time, and you’re seeing her see it, and the whole thing makes you feel like you’re floating just above the surface of the room, hovering somewhere between disbelief and a kind of maddening love.

You clear your throat. “Alessia?”

She looks up, startled, like she’d forgotten you were even there. “Yeah?”

“Don’t drop him,” you say, and you’re half-joking, half-serious, because you’re still getting used to the idea that this is your life now—a life where Alessia Russo is holding your son, and you’re trying not to pass out from the sheer, outrageous joy of it all.

“Please,” she scoffs, but there’s a glimmer of anxiety in her eyes, just enough to make you smile. “I’ve got it”

And you believe her, because she’s Alessia, and if there’s one thing she’s never done, it’s let you down. Even if there was that one time in Paris with the mix-up at the airport and the missed flight, but that’s a story for another time.

For now, you’re content to watch as she carefully places the baby in the small, plastic crib beside your bed, and you realise, with a sudden and startling clarity, that you’re not scared anymore. Or at least, not scared in the way you thought you’d be. It’s more of an excited kind of fear, the kind that prickles at the edges of your consciousness and makes you want to grab Alessia’s hand and run, just for the thrill of it.

She straightens up, stretching her arms above her head, and you notice that her t-shirt is still riding up slightly, exposing a strip of skin that you’ve kissed a thousand times but which still feels like uncharted territory now, because everything feels new, like a fresh coat of paint on a familiar wall.

“Hey,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Come here”

She does, and you pull her close, ignoring the ache in your legs, and kiss her like it’s still that night in Ibiza and nothing else matters except the taste of salt on her lips and the way she laughs when you tell her you love her. She pulls back, her forehead resting against yours, and you can feel the dampness of her breath on your cheek.

“We did it,” she whispers, and there’s a kind of wonder in her voice that you haven’t heard in a long time.

“Yeah,” you say, your eyes drifting towards the baby, who’s sleeping now, as though nothing in the world could ever disturb him. “We really did”

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #awfc #awfc x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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roosterforme · 7 months ago

Text

The Younger Kind Part 63 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The arrival of the fourth member of the royal family means that Noah gets to meet his little sister. He has a lot to teach her, and he's planning on starting today.

Warnings: fluff, new baby, hospital, age gap (18+)

Length: 1200 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Several months later....

You were exhausted, and everything still hurt a little bit. The best word to describe the night of sleep you just had was restless. There were nurses in and out of your room all night long, and the harsh fluorescent lights were enough to wake you up at odd times and make you wish you were at home. You could hear the faint sound of babies crying as your husband, who had curled his large body up and spent the night in the arm chair, leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"I'll go pick up Noah and bring him back to meet his sister. You want me to get you some coffee?" he whispered, letting the baby doze in the bassinet next to your bed.

"Please," you told him, tipping your head back so he could kiss you. His lips were always perfect, but there was a reverence in his touch today that left you a little breathless.

His fingers brushed your cheek and trailed down your neck before he stood tall and paused to look at your daughter who was the most precious, tiny thing you had ever seen. Bradley's smile grew and grew as he leaned a little closer to her and adjusted the pink pacifier in her mouth. "I'll be back with your brother," he told her, and then with one more kiss pressed to your forehead, he made his way out of the room to get Noah from Penny's house.

You sighed and stretched out in the bed, letting your gaze skim the placard that was affixed to the bassinet.

Noelle Bradshaw

Born: April 22nd

Length: 19 inches

Weight: 6 pounds, 14 ounces

"I love you." Your whisper was soft, but you watched her squirm a little bit in response. Part of you wanted her to wake up again so you could hold her, but you knew that she was probably as tired as you were. The Christmas theme of her name would always make you and Bradley smile, and you fell in love with it as soon as he first mentioned it to you. The theme for her nursery was purple watercolor flowers, but you made sure there was a pretty green pine tree painted on the back of her door.

You felt yourself starting to doze while you waited for your boys to come back, and just as you heard Noelle start to stir, the door opened slowly. "Mommy!" Noah called out, running right past the bassinet and his sister with a gift bag in his hand. He climbed up onto the bed near your feet as Bradley shut the door behind him with a coffee cup in his hand.

"Be careful, Bub. Mommy is really tired," he said softly, but you already had Noah snuggled up at your side, and he was pulling a mug from inside the bag.

"Me and Daddy got you this for your coffee, but you can still use the other ones at home, too."

"Thank you, sweet Noah," you told him, kissing his head as you read the purple mug which said Noah and Noelle's Mommy. "It's perfect. Are you ready to meet her?"

"Of course," he said with a casual shrug, but when Bradley scooped up the wriggling newborn, Noah's eyes lit up. "She's so little."

You watched as Bradley held her close, his nose bumping her much smaller one playfully as he whispered her name. She really was so little. Even the pink cap on her head was dwarfed by his hand as he cradled her and kept her safe. You sipped your French vanilla coffee and ruffled Noah's hair as Bradley said, "Little Duchess Noelle," while he knelt next to the bed with her in his arms. "Meet your big brother, Prince Noah."

Your son was so gentle as he reached for his sister, it made you gasp as tears filled your eyes. He'd been waiting months, asking about her every day, and now his tiny best friend was here. You watched as she pulled her hand free from her swaddle and reached out to him.

"Hi," Noah whispered, and sure enough her little fingers wrapped around his thumb, and he watched in wonder as she yawned. "Hi, Noelle."

"I think she loves you the most," Bradley said with a grin in your direction. "I'm just a peasant, obsessed with my royal family."

You shook your head before you leaned closer to him. "You're a Daddy in shining armor."

He kissed you while he laughed and held his daughter in one strong arm. He laced his fingers with yours and asked Noah, "Are you going to teach her everything you know?"

"Everything," he said, poking at her arm as she smiled at him.

"Like what?" you asked, taking another sip of your coffee.

Noah thought it through for a few seconds before he said, "Like how Daddy's not really allowed to cook anything. And what kind of snacks are the best."

Bradley groaned as you giggled. "Those are some important life lessons," you agreed. "What else?"

"Well I'll have to teach her how to feed Skittles and where all the stuff is at home."

"Yeah, Bub. You've got a lot of work ahead of you. Think you can handle it?"

Noah was nodding as Noelle reached for his cheek while she yawned again. "Can we all go home soon?" he asked. "I really do have a lot to show her."

You and Bradley had to hold back your laughter, but you managed to say, "Hopefully we can all go home later today. But until we do, I packed you some coloring books to work on. Want to do one with Daddy while I feed Noelle?"

The four of you all ended up in the hospital bed together for a few hours. Noah worked his way through most of his books, and Noelle fell asleep again. Bradley got you anything you needed, and when it was finally time to go home, he was in full dad-mode. You watched the way he got both kids and then you situated in the Bronco. He double checked to make sure everyone was buckled in before he pulled away.

"I'll take care of everything for the next few days," he whispered as he reached for your hand. "You can rest and feed Noelle, and I'll take care of everything else."

"And then we can take care of everything together," you promised.

----------------------------

The end!

This family of four has been so much fun to write about! Thank you for joining me on this long journey! Thanks for sharing your thoughts and ideas along the way. Who knows...maybe we will see them again! Big thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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rwac96 · 3 months ago

Note

Prompt

Professor Au

8 months of carrying their first child, weiss finally given birth to the baby girl, jaune was there with her providing support, in the waiting room friends and family are waiting to meet Arc-Schnee love child, when nurse said it was ready to meet the baby, jaune's mother rushed in pushing her son aside.

"Oh, my Gods," said a relieved Jaune Arc, his ocean eyes staring at his newborn daughter with Weiss. "She's...She's beautiful."

"She is," Weiss nods lightly, holding the swaddled infant. "Hello, sweetie." The Middle Schnee coos to her baby.

"Hey," Jaune says in a similar tone, reaching out with his finger to touch his daughter's cheek, who gurgled in response.

---

"Gawds!" Nora groaned as she lay against one of the chairs in the waiting room, "How long does it take to squirt a baby out?!"

"Nora!" Ren calmed his wife down, "It takes time."

"Oh, Gods," the hammer-wielder grimaced, her teal eyes moving down to her own slightly swollen stomach. "I'm dreading when it's my turn."

"It's not so bad," Terra Cotta Arc said, sitting next to Saphron while their seven-year-old son was sound asleep. "I mean, it was painful when I gave birth to Adrian."

"Mama!" Squeaked a blonde, cat-eared toddler sitting on Blake's lap. "I'm tirsty."

"Okay, Nala," Blake reaches into her violet bag, pulling out a sippy cup and handing it to her daughter.

"I hope Weiss' okay," Ruby Rose said, clutching Oscar's hand as she worried for her best friend and teammate.

"I'm sure she'll be okay," the former host of Ozma spoke up, "she's been through worse."

"Childbirth's different, Oscar," Yang pointed out, "my first memory: Mom screaming like a banshee when Ruby was comin'."

"YANG!" The leader of Team RWBY's cheeks reddened at her sister, who snickered in response.

Then, the doors opened, and a nurse stepped out. "Ladies and gentlemen," she spoke, "you can now see the baby--."

"FINALLY!!" Juniper "Mama" Arc screamed as she rose out of her seat and rushed towards the delivery room, despite her age and the protest of the nurse. "I WANNA SEE MY NEW GRANDBABY!!"

"Uh," Adrian opens his eyes due to his grandmother's outburst, "is my new cousin here yet?"

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greedyhoneyz · 1 year ago

Text

I Can’t Lose When I’m With You

.ೃ࿔*:･pairing: kylian mbappé x reader

.ೃ࿔*:･synopsis: there’s something joyous about the sounds of laughter.

.ೃ࿔*:･cw: none. fluff

.ೃ࿔*:･authors notes: this took me awhile to write. this isn’t my best works but ive been stuck with writers block. used google translate for the french. didn't proofread.

“Ćherie!” Kylian’s deep, resonant voice echoed through the dimly lit hallway of his Parisian home as the front door creaked open, and the scent of popcorn and a vanilla line candle filled his nose.

“Ćherie!” He yelled again, a hand pushed up against the hallway wall as he dug his feet out of his shoes. He kicked them aside and jeered his head to stare at the soft glare of light at the end of the hallway.

Dropping his bag at his feet, Kylian followed the light till he stood at the end of the hallway.

On the couch, bundled between a row of pillows and a throw blanket, (name) lay idly, her gaze glued to the blue light emitting from her phone whilst music boomed from her airpods. The tv played on the side of her face, Gossip Girl, a comfort show she watched countless times before.

Slowly, Kylian crept towards (name). He pressed his lips into a line and watched her eyes flutter close, her eyelashes meshing together and springing open with orbs filled with alert.

She stirred, her feet wriggling beneath the throw blanket, and turned her head to Kylian, beaming.

“Kylian,” She mouthed gently, her eyes glancing over his figure. She pulled her airpods from her ears and pressed herself against the couch, her phone tumbling aside. “You’re back.”

“Kiss.” She tilted her head back and puckered her lips as Kylian towered above her. He hung his head, a shadow casting over both their faces, and clasped her face between his hands. He leaned into her, his nose gently bristling against her cheek, and moulded his mouth around her lips.

Kylian savoured the taste of (name’s) strawberry gloss, uttering a strangled moan as he pulled away, leaving a lingering touch on her ample cheek.

He waddled around the couch, his movements slow and sluggish, and eased himself beside (name). Sinking into the cushioned seat, she placed her legs over his lap.

“How was the game?” (name) spared a peep at the television, a flash of black covered the screen indicating the episode had ended. She fixed her gaze on Kylian and smiled warmly at the touch of his hands gently scoring across her legs.

“Good,” He muttered calmly. His digits smoothed down her legs, coddling her ankles, and brushed upwards towards her thighs. He stared at her body with eyes filled with focus and fatigue, his fingers an emblem of his tenderness and care, and batted a gentle look at (name). “...I missed you.”

(name) felt her heart swell and heat flush across her face. She offered a shy grin and threw back words brimmed with solace.

“I missed you too.”

By 9 pm, nightfall had replaced the brisk, autumn evening. The house had fallen into a quiet lull, the tv had shut and faint snores filled the open air. Propped on either side of their sofa, Kylian and (name) slept blissfully– the throw blanket Kylian had once rustled aside draped across their figures and swaddled them like newborns despite the discomforting positions. The couple slept on, stirring at the occasional ding from a phone or beep from the alarm at the front door.

And when morning came, hunger had struck and Kylian had found himself awake. He blinked, baffled and dazed, and slowly slung his head upwards from his shoulder. He wiped a hand across his face, rubbed his tired eyes and shifted, drawing his eyes to the legs dangled across his lap.

He flashed a glance at (name), still content in slumber, and sluggishly dragged his legs inwards. He blinked, knocking his jaw open with a strained yawn and settled back into the couch cushions.

Kylian waded between feelings of fatigue and hunger and peeked a glance at the kitchen just metres away. Imagining a hot plate of eggs, a bagel smothered with cream cheese and a couple of slices of bacon on the side — his belly rumbled at the thought.

He wiped his mouth and carefully lifted himself from the couch, only to be weighed down by (name).

Kylian let out a breath and stared down at his girlfriend, her head hidden beneath her arm and a pillow. He watched her chest rise and deflate in a continuous motion as minute snores whistled from her nostrils.

He smiled, enamoured by the sight and carefully raised his hand. His palm curved around her leg, whisking across her skin delicately, upwards and downwards. He dragged his hand towards her ankle, smoothed the nub and trickled his digits down to her feet.

He curved his hand to the back of her feet and began to wriggle his fingers across her feet.

Kylian was tender at first, his digits barely fluttered against (name’s) feet, which induced the occasional twitch and curl of her toes. His next move was stronger, a rutted attack, as his fingers wormed across her feet in ragged lines, inducing an agitated mewl.

Kylian’s final move was subtle, yet effective. He moved his fingers diligently against her feet and applied pressure on points he had accustomed himself to, sending electric nodes which signified as jolts

across (name’s) body.

She flinched, a groan escaping her tired lips and began to stir, growing more agitated the more Kylian continued his assault before her mewls began to grow higher in pitch.

(name) sprung her eyes open, letting out the loudest giggle and threw back her head. She kicked her feet in an attempt to ward off Kylian’s attack but fell struck in a fit of laughter.

“What are you doing?” She managed a few words between her laughter as teardrops began pooling down her cheeks.

“It tickles!”

“Tes pieds sont si sensibles,” [Your feet are so sensitive,] Kylian mused softly, racing his digits up across her feet once again, tickling her. “I like it.”

“Kylian, wait-”

“Je n'arrête pas.” [I’m not stopping.] He cooed assertively, sending (name) an amused look.

“Kylian!” (name) whined, she wriggled beneath her boyfriend and laughed gleefully with a grin that reached from ear to ear.

“Don’t stop!”

No longer dazed by slumber, (name) found herself engulfed with joy and never-ending laughter as Kylian tickled her feet and laughed alongside her. She was delighted, he was amused. Her delicate laughter soothed him and his mischievous antics felt her panting for breath in their Parisian home that stood cloudless beneath the frisk, bitter early autumn air.

#kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe x black!reader #black!reader #football imagine #football x reader #football fanfiction #football fanfic

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freshlypicked4 · 1 year ago

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Mickey Mouse Swaddle | Freshly Picked

Our Premium one-piece Mickey Mouse Swaddle was thoughtfully designed with mom (and baby) in mind. It is very soft for your baby. Special Mickey texture gives a unique look to this. The Snuggle Band holds the baby’s arms tightly to their body. It gives your baby comfort, warmth, and safety. The Swaddle Band is off-white. Perfect for your precious little babe. One size fits all! No need to size up as the baby grows! Grab it from our Website.

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cryingpariah · 1 month ago

Note

Just thought of something that wrecked my heart, so I’ll share it here.

Dragon at Garp’s doorstep with Luffy swaddled in his arms. It’s storming, it’s dark, it’s cold, rain is soaking through his cloak, and the warmth of the lights through the windows is so warm. But he’s so, so scared…

He hasn’t talked to his father in years… what if his father had grown to hate him? What if he was unwelcome, now? What if he was little more than a stranger? Would his father call him a disappointment of a son? Would he shut the door in his face? Would he reject Luffy?

And then the door opens, as if Garp sensed his presence… Hell, with the tangle of emotions tearing him up inside he probably had…

He’s ready for rejection. He’s ready for hatred. He’s ready for his heart to be broken.

He’s not ready for his father to hug his neck.

Complete and utter shock felt too small to describe the feelings in Dragon's heart.

His father tugged him that much closer and if the Revolutionary Army leader didn’t know any better, he’d think he felt tears staining his shoulder.

Garp, with surprising difficulty, pulled himself off and quickly turned on his heel.

“Get inside already, all this cold air isn’t good for Junior.”

Dragon quickly followed and started doing that awkward shuffle foot thing you do when you trying to take off your shoes without sitting, Luffy still sleeping peacefully in his arms.

He kept opening and closing his mouth without purpose. He had no idea where to even begin. There was so much, too much to explain.

He clenched his fists in determination, he had to approach this delicately.

He refocused with a start, suddenly realizing he was not, in fact, holding his baby anymore. Hence the previous fist clenching not possible when holding a newborn.

He whipped his head around only to see his elderly father sitting in a rocking chair, rocking his grandson back to sleep with soft murmurs and touches.

“There ya are, little one. Grandpa Garp has you.”

“W-When did you..”

“You’re just like your mother, neither of you could turn off your brains.”

Dragon took a seat in the armchair adjacent to his father, their shadows cast on the wall by the crackling flames in the fireplace.

A surprisingly calm silence blanketed them only occasionally disturbed by a gurgle or whimper from the infant in the room.

Alright Dragon, time to plead your case! Garp’s a lot of things but he’s not unreasonable! Wow him with your powers of persuasion and logic that has helped dozens of people seek their freedom!

“So…the weather around here is kinda cold for this time of year.”

Smooth Dragon real smooth.

“Cut the crap Sonny, just tell me what’s going on already.”

“ThisismysonLuffycanyoupleaseraisehim.”

That barely counted as a sentence or a plea.

Garp cooly nodded “Alright then.”

Dragon sagged in relief, quickly making to empty his bag. Diapers and wet wipes, bottles and formula, a foldable changing station and a convertible bassinet, he had made sure to bring anything his baby would need.

“He sleeps through the night well enough but Luffy - his name is Luffy I forgot to say - gets really fussy in the mornings. He seemed to have gotten the family appetite so feed him plenty.”

He pulled out a colourful book, the title reads ‘The Curious Tail of Carl the Cockatoo’

“This is his favourite story at bedtime, you have to read it to him every night.”

Finally he pulls out a mobile, decorated with a Bananawanis in different stages of life.

..He had forgotten he packed it. He wordlessly placed it on his father's hand before standing up to set up the bassinet.

“When do you plan on visiting? Not sure what a day in the life of criminal is but I’ve got a schedule I mostly need to follow.”

“Never, I’m never coming back.”

He couldn’t, he wanted to more than anything, but he couldn’t.

“In quite a rush there, can’t wait to leave or something?”

Alright, bassinet is a go, next the changing table.

“Just don’t wanna attract any unsavoury attention, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Garp stood up now, gently placed his grandson in his bed.

“I never told ya you had to leave. Hell, with the storm out there you’ll definitely need to stay the night.”

For the umpteenth time since arriving, Dragon hesitated. He couldn’t look his father in the eye. Damnit why was this changing table not listening to him, the box said it was for parents on the go and he had to go!

“Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for harbouring a criminal. It’s just..easier this way.”

Garp grunted and begun waving at his arm, as if he could physically shoo away Dragon's concerns.

“Boy, you can try and lie all you want but it won’t work on me. It took me forever to wrench the kid outta yer hands, you clearly don’t wanna leave ‘im. Yer frantically trying to distance yourself from me but I’d bet berries I’m the first person you came to, and don’t think I can’t see when my boy's gotten his heart broken.”

Dragon looked up and saw wrinkled eyes reflecting nothing but the softest love back at him.

“You wanna take care of your kid? Well I wanna take care of mine.”

He didn’t really know who reached out this time. All he knew is that he was hugging back.

“..When did you get so wise anyway?”

“Bwahaha, it came with the grey hair.”

#one piece #monkey d garp #monkey d dragon #monkey d luffy #monkey d Urpi <- technically #dragodile

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stylemykid · 1 year ago

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Sleep Suit For Babies And Its Benefits

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lemonlover1110 · 1 year ago

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Baby Steps

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 24] Seiji's Other Grandparents

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Happy to co-host Gojo NSFW Week 2023! Come join us on Twitter!

The apartment is completely chaotic when Megumi and Tsumiki move in. Satoru is the one that handles everything. Packing everything up and unloading it into the spare bedroom. It’s a bit hectic, making sure Megumi and Tsumiki feel comfortable in their new space. Also dealing with a newborn baby as well.

Not only is all of this springing on you, but also the fact that you’re preparing to meet Satoru’s parents. You begin to get ready, preparing a dinner that you hope they’ll like. Satoru tries to get you to go out, but you use Seiji as an excuse. You don’t want to go out.

“Seiji’s crying.” Megumi announces, walking from the bedroom to the living room to drown out the cries of the baby. Megumi adores Seiji but he absolutely hates the sound of the baby’s cries.

“Yeah, thanks.” You respond, a bit annoyed because you can hear the baby screaming. But Megumi doesn’t know any better, you know that. You’re trying your best to make sure everything is perfect for this dinner, and it’s quite hard when you have a crying baby. “Satoru, Seiji is screaming!”

“He left.” Tsumiki informs you, causing you to sigh as you put down the spoon that you hold. You run to Seiji’s nursery and go to the crying baby. You undo his swaddle, and while you usually smile at his big stretch, this time you’re too stressed about finishing everything up.

“Where the fuck is your father when you need him?” You ask the baby. You know Seiji needs a bath, however, adding more things to do to your list is the last thing you need. You need a bath too. You can’t help but kiss Seiji’s chubby cheeks before you pick him up from the crib and walk out of the nursery. Walking to the living room, you watch as Satoru walks into the front door with some bags. Today was the worst day for him to decide to go grocery shopping. Satoru smiles at you, taking off his shades. “Take the baby. Give him a bath.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Satoru responds, putting the bags down on the kitchen counter before taking Seiji from your arms. Satoru sniffs the baby head before he presses a kiss on it. “My sweet baby.”

You go back to the kitchen to continue the dinner, and while you’re focused on assembling the food, you fail to notice Tsumiki coming to your side. You’re startled when she opens her mouth, “Do you need any help?”

“No, baby, go play with your dolls.” You tell her, looking down at her. She looks a bit confused, and you pat the top of her head before smiling at her, “I got this, honey. Go play with your brother.”

“Are you sure?” She asks, and you hum in response. She walks away and you try your best to finish assembling the dish before you finally are able to pop it into the oven. You’re about to rush to the other bathroom to take a shower, knowing that Satoru’s parents will get here soon, but you hear the doorbell ring.

“Satoru, can you answer the door!” You yell, not wanting to greet his parents while you’re like this. You’re a complete mess, and even you feel like the word doesn’t begin to cover it. Your shirt is stained with milk, baby spit, tomato sauce– You can’t even keep up with the stains on your shirt. You know Satoru is still busy bathing Seiji, so you have no option but to walk out of the bathroom, picking a clean shirt and changing out as fast as you can before going to the front door. You take a deep breath before you open the door.

When you open the door, you find Satoru’s parents and immediately feel underdressed– You knew that you were going to be underdressed, you just didn’t expect his parents to look like this. Their clothes are simple yet they look so good. You hope that they’re just some older couple that knocked on the wrong door, but it’s clear who they are.

His mother has the same exact hair color as Satoru and big brown eyes, and by the looks of it, Satoru favors her in looks; you wish that as Seiji grows older he begins to look more like that, but you doubt it. His father has graying black hair, and the same blue eyes that your son inherited. They’re looking you up and down, clearly judging you by your stylistic choice. You’re wearing leggings and a gray v-neck shirt, which is definitely not what they were expecting.

“I’m sorry, we must be in the wrong apartment.” His mother says, and your face gets warm of embarrassment. You clear your throat before you say,

“No. You’re in the right place. Mr. and Mrs. Gojo?” You watch as they slowly nod. They aren’t really sure why they’re here, Satoru just told them that he wanted to introduce them to a special someone, and they assume that’s you… You’re just so underwhelming. You introduce yourself before you tell them, “Please come in.”

“Uh…” They hesitantly walk into the apartment, and immediately they’re met with the sounds of Tsumiki and Megumi arguing. Luckily, they know that they’re not your kids since Satoru had told them about the kids that he started taking care of. They walk to the couch and take a seat, searching for their son.

“Tsumiki, Megumi, settle down. Or start fighting in your bedroom.” You tell the fighting siblings, and the pair cross their arms. Tsumiki dramatically turns before walking to the bedroom while Megumi chooses to sit down in the loveseat of the living room. Satoru’s parents look uncomfortable, his dad having his hands on his knees, while his mother overall looks tense.

“Where’s Satoru?” His mother asks, and just as the question leaves her lips, they hear Satoru in the hallway.

“Who’s a clean baby now? You are, yes you are.” says Satoru in a stupid baby voice. His parents look at each other, confused as to what they hear.

“Satoru! Your parents are here!” You yell, hoping that the man will come faster to save you from this awkwardness. Maybe Satoru was right and his parents didn’t have to meet you nor Seiji. Satoru’s parents look at each other, trying to figure out what’s going on. You take a seat next to Megumi, and you patiently wait for Satoru to walk out to the living room.

“So um–” His mother begins, and before she can finish her sentence, Satoru makes his appearance, holding baby Seiji. Baby Seiji wears an orange and blue romper with a giraffe on it. Satoru is grinning as he holds the baby. Satoru’s parents eyes widen when they see Satoru holding a baby.

“Hi. Aren’t you two a little early?” Satoru asks, his parents completely shocked. They stare at baby Seiji, and Satoru apologizes, “Where are my manners? Mom, dad, this is my son. Seiji.”

They take a moment to stare at the baby as Satoru holds him down to their level. White hair, blue eyes– Not only those characteristics but the fact that the baby looks just like Satoru when the latter was a baby.

“You have a son?” His mother asks, looking at Seiji. Her eyes shift back and forth between her grandson and her son. Well, she certainly doesn’t need to see a DNA test.

“Well I certainly didn’t pick him up from the streets. Isn’t that right, Megumi?” Satoru jokes, and Megumi furrows his brows. He’s caught off guard.

“Huh– Hey!” The boy yells when he finally gets it. Satoru’s parents really don’t know how to react– This is something that they should’ve known about before Seiji was born. But they are glad that they get to meet the baby.

“Why are we just finding out?” His father asks, trying to take the baby from Satoru’s arms but Satoru doesn’t allow it. Satoru walks over to you and takes a seat next to you. You look at your baby, smiling at him, and your heart melts when Seiji smiles back at you. Satoru’s father is pointing at you, trying to come up with words but he’s too astonished to say anything. Until he’s finally able to say, “So you’re the mother of our grandbaby.”

“I am.” You sheepishly smile as you admit it. The air around you is beyond awkward, although you weren’t expecting anything else. “I wanted to tell you sooner but… I couldn’t have contacted you.”

“Are you a sorcerer? Do you come from a clan?” Satoru’s mother asks, and you blink slowly. It’s nice to know that Satoru’s occupation isn’t made up. You shake your head. She raises her brows, “Do you see curses?”

“I don’t…” You shake your head. You take a deep breath before you say, “Satoru told me what they are though.”

“Alright…” Her lips are pursed together. There’s so many things to ask, and she doesn’t know where to start. But to begin with, she wants to hold her cute grandson.

“Um… I am making dinner.” You announce as you take Seiji from Satoru’s arms. “Could you please set the table?”

Satoru doesn’t waste a second, standing up to do as he’s told. You stand up as well, smiling at his parents. “Would you like to hold him?”

“Yes.” His mother responds. You walk over to her and hand her the baby. Her features soften up as she holds her grandson, same as Satoru’s father. You really don’t understand why he wanted to keep the baby a secret, they seem to be taking it well, but considering that Satoru was hiding a big part of his life from you, he had no option but to keep it quiet so his secrets wouldn’t spill. “Oh, he looks just like Satoru.”

“I wish he didn’t.” You joke, and they both laugh. Satoru’s about to yell something, but he can’t help but smile as he listens to the interaction.

Dinner went better than expected, and after getting the kids to sleep, Satoru is trying to cuddle with you in the bedroom. You’re focused on your phone, not paying much attention to what he has to say. You’re laying on your side, and Satoru’s arm is wrapped around you, his head resting on your arm, watching what you do on your phone.

“Can I ask you something?” Satoru speaks up, and you hum in response. He waits for you to turn off your phone and give him just a bit of attention, but you don’t. “Why are you so distant?”

“Distant?” You respond, finally putting the phone down. Satoru’s head stops laying on your arm. He sits up on the bed, and you do the same. You try to act confused, but he’s right, you are distant. “What do you mean?”

“It just feels like you can’t stand to be in the same room as me unless it’s about Seiji.” Satoru confesses, and you chew on the inside of your cheek. You have so many emotions bottled up, and you don’t really want to share them. “And maybe I’m just reading things wrong–”

“You’ve just kept so much hidden from me, and that’s upset me. You didn’t even care to explain until my life was in danger. Also the whole dating Leiko thing… I just haven’t had the time to process it all because I’m focused on Seiji.” You answer, and he understands where you’re coming from even though he’s so impatient.

“You do know that the whole thing with Leiko was a sham, right?” Satoru tells you. “I just wanted to protect you, even if it meant hurting your feelings and putting her in danger.”

“I know, Satoru. It’s still a lot to take in.” You answer, laying on your side again and using your phone. Satoru kisses your cheek.

“Take all the time you need. I’ll be waiting here.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojou satoru x you #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fanfic #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo saturo

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dovabunny · 1 year ago

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Want some omegaverse GhostSoap baby drama?

Ghost (alpha) dumps Soap before the omega could tell him he's pregnant. Soap was devastated from the break up, but couldn't get it over his heart to terminate. So, he decided to retire - effective immediately, without honours. The only person on base who knew was the dedicated omega doctor who could only cover for him so long before he couldn't hide it anymore.

He slips out in the night.

But he didn't realize someone was following...

Price had gone to his office at 2am looking for his favorite lighter when he found the letter under the door from Soap about his immediate resignation and retirement. He rushes out in time to catch Soap sneaking off base with just his bag.

He was suspicious that Soap had maybe crossed them, that he was deflecting. He overhears 'the airport' between Soap and the driver who just pulled in. In a mad rush he runs to his room to grab a backpack then set out to follow the man from a distance.

Soap had been distant for the past few months, increasingly so. His doctor had him booked off active duty, only allowing office work and recruit training but even then he was withdrawn. It didn't help his suspicions.

He follows Soap all the way to Scotland to a small town.

He watches from afar as a very nervous Soap knocks on the door of a cozy family home and is greeted in joy. An hour later he watches Soap fling the door open and leave again, screaming and cursing can be heard from inside. His face stained with tears, a red bruise on his cheek.

Had he gotten in trouble with an informant? Was his superiors not happy with his report or performance? He'll wait till he calls Laswell. He needs more Intel first.

He quickly sends Ghost a text that said 'till I'm back you're in charge'.

He follows as Soap takes the late train to the next town and checks into a small motel. Over the next few weeks he mostly stays in, sometimes visits the hospital. Is that where he meets his contacts? Is the motel a front? Slowly Price's suspicion turns to concern, and worry.

Then an ambulance is called to the motel. Price spots Soap being loaded in.

He can't fake the local accent to blend in so he stays outside the small-town hospital for a day and a half before Soap appears again...

... carrying a small bundle in his arms.

But something doesn't add up, something is off.

Soap seems devastated in a way that breaks Price's heart. He smiles through the tears at the little one in his arms as he slowly walks down the street into the night air.

A few blocks down he stops in front of the small orphanage next to the church. He places the warmly swaddled little one at the orphanage's steps, knocks and quickly leaves sobbing.

Before the door can even be answered, however, Price finds his body moving. He dashes out of his hiding spot and swoops the wee one into his arms, quickly walking away as he hears the door being answered to nothing and no one.

A block down, once he's sure it's safe, he peeks down at the curious little face.

And sees blue eyes like Soap...and pale skin and blond hair - like Simon.

It doesn't take much to deduce what happened. He had noticed Ghost had also been withdrawn and taking riskier solo missions since he and Soap stopped being each other's shadow suddenly. In fact, he'd been so busy trying to stop Ghost from getting himself killed or killing a recruit who happened to catch him on a bad day - that he'd not realised this probably had something to do with Soap's withdrawal too. Too busy and distracted to put two and two together.

They were both hurting. Soap clearly felt he couldn't take care of the wee one, but wanted it to have a chance. Even if it meant leaving the army.

As he walks he pulls out his phone to make a call. Laswell pulls some strings and files, and before he gets to the hotel the Captain's official records included that of his newborn son: 'John Simon Price'.

Till his boys are ready, he'll keep their little one safe and happy. Grandpa Price will make sure of it.

#soapghost #ghostsoap #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #grandpa price #my writing #ghost cod #omegaverse #cod soap #ghost x soap

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haee-elia · 1 year ago

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spence-tober: day 31 - bookshop owner

pairing: bookshop owner!spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: in which you bring your newborn son to your husband's bookshop as a midday surprise

word count: 1292

warnings: fluff, talks of children, pregnancy, mentions of labor, bedrest, formula, pump for breastfeeding

spence-tober masterlist

The familiar ding alert of the bell above the door as you opened it was like music to your ears. It had been far too long since you had stepped foot into the homey feeling bookshop and you didn’t realise how much you missed it until you took in the sight you’d seen so many times before.

The lines and aisles of bookshelves to the right and left of you are abundant, but not overcrowding the space in the small storefront. There’s a small lending library in the front window next to the children’s reading space and a counter in the middle with curtains hanging on the wall, leading to the back where you know categorizing and inventory goes on.

“Welco-” The voice belonging to your husband starts to say, his voice ringing out in the room for everyone to hear.

Spencer had his nose in a book, sitting behind the counter on a comfortable stool waiting for customers or anyone else who needed assistance in the store. When he looked up to greet the patron of the store, his eyes instead met yours. His darling wife of six years.

However, his eyes didn’t stay on your form for very long, straying to the bundle all swaddled up in a travel car seat that hung from your arms.

Your’s and Spencer’s newborn son, Gideon Reid, sleeping away in a swaddle unknown to his new surroundings. The tiny small baby with a little hat around tucked at his ears to keep him warm and a cute outfit that you had dressed him in just before leaving the house.

“Oh!” Spencer says in an adoring tone. Quickly he puts down his book and moves around the counter to come towards the two of you.

“What are you doing here?” He whispers as he reaches you at the front of the store. Spencer pulls you in for a sweet kiss and then moves his attention to the car seat, taking it gently in his arms and gazing down at his son. He’s switched to a lower volume to not disturb the sleeping newborn.

In the last stage of your pregnancy, it was getting harder and harder for you to travel to the bookstore which you hated. But when your doctor prescribed bedrest for the last month of your pregnancy, Spencer had put his foot down and practically bound you to the bed, getting everything you need so you wouldn’t wear yourself out or go into early labor.

You smile at your husband who’s looked back to you, a large teethy grin, “I wanted to surprise you.”

Spencer presses another sweet kiss to your lips before reaching behind you to flip the sign hanging at the front of the door to ‘closed’ before taking your hand and Gideon in his car seat and leading the both of you to the back of the store.

The bedrest had worked. You had a relatively fine labor, for how fine labor could be. Your recovery was okay and Spencer had been a big help with taking care of you and Gideon when you first came home from the hospital. Even though Gideon is your first baby, Spencer’s dad instincts kicked in and he instantly was so good with baby Gideon.

“Thank you for the surprise.” Spencer says genuinely before scooping his large hands into the car seat and gently hoisting the still sleeping Gideon to his chest, coddling him close.

You take your phone out of the large diaper bag you carry with you and snap a quick photo of your husband and your son together. Then, you take in the rest of the familiar sight that is Diana’s Library, the bookshop your husband had bought had renovated over the past four years. His former mentor and your son’s namesake, Jason Gideon, had retired and given his best employee, your husband, first right to buy what was the previous space known as Jason’s Library. Since then, Spencer had dedicated it to his mother and worked to make the bookshop of his dreams.

You had contributed as well, putting together bookshelves and cabinets on your free weekends and scouring old second hand books online to add to the library. And when you and Spencer discovered you were pregnant, you also did most of the revamping of the old reading nook to a child friendly reading space. All of this is why you were so pouty when you were placed on bedrest and you couldn’t return to the warm and cozy environment you had grown to love so much.

“I thought it would be nice to visit.” You comment as Spencer rocks back and forth with your sleeping son on his chest. You reach your hand and fix your husband’s glasses that have slid down on his nose.

Spencer smiles back at you, his eyes gleaming with delight, “And you’re feeling okay?” he checks in.

You nod, “Yeah, I am. Took a shower, did some chores around the house.” You list.

“Don’t strain yourself.” Spencer warns, concern in his voice.

“I won’t.” You promise to him, “Besides, I just wanted to get out of the house.”

“You mean that you missed your chair here.” Spencer corrects, a joking tone in his voice and a matching visage in his eyes.

You scoff at his remark, though not denying it, “I don’t know why you couldn’t have asked Derek for his truck so we could bring it to the house.”

“Because you ordered one for the house! We’d have to move it back here!” He laughs. The laughter has jostled Gideon and he slowly wakens from his peaceful slumber despite the small pats Spencer gives on his back.

You purse your lips, “But it’s on backorder and won’t be in for another five months.” You complain and pout.

Spencer laughs at your not-so-serious expression. You take your hand and reach out again, this time adjusting the knit cap on your son’s head to not cover over his eyes. It let’s your son, for the very first time, take in the surroundings that you know he’ll get to know very well in his childhood to come.

Gideon, now awake and alert, moves his head around and by the look on his face, isn’t very happy. Both Spencer and you clock this.

“I just changed his diaper before leaving the house, so he should be good.” You inform your husband.

“Is he maybe hungry?” Spencer says, rocking him back and forth more quickly now. He looks at his son inquisitively, trying to figure out the solution to his grump face that you both know will turn into a shrill cry very quickly unless handled. The rocking holds his cry at bay for now, but its only a temporary solution.

“Hm, maybe.” You say uncertain.

Spencer’s ready though, he takes the diaper bag from your hand and puts in on a clean countertop behind him. Then he opens the cabinets above and you smile to yourself at the sight you see.

“You have a spare pump and formula here?” You say, your heart warming at the sweet sight in front of you. This just confirms to you that you have the best partner ever.

“Of course!” Your husband responds, bringing both down from the cabinet to the counter for you, “This is like our second home. I have a travel crib too if he gets sleepy.”

You pull him in again for a kiss, a longer one this time, and you make sure that you put all the love and emotion you hold for him. As you pull back, you instantly get a gratifying feeling. Being with your husband and your son in your favorite place in the world.

“You are simply the best, Spencer Reid.”

a/n: and this concludes the end of spence-tober 2023! thanks for coming along for the ride, whether this is the first one you've read (check back at the masterlist for more), if you've joined midway, or if you've been here since the beginning!

i'll admit, writing and posting every single day has been a little stressful and finishing writing challenges like these can be hard and taxing, especially with how unexpected life can get. i'll be posting some behind the scenes sometime later this week or next and then i might announce some new things coming soon too!

#criminal minds #criminalminds #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fluff #dr. spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid au #spencer reid fanfic

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