#Softest Baby Diaper | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goldfades · 1 month ago

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FLIPPED──RAFE CAMERON

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for this request, for my baby jojo! @wanderlusturous

─ summary | rafe is completely devoted to his pregnant wife, spoiling her endlessly and preparing for the arrival of their baby girl, who becomes the center of his world. after a life of feeling lost and disconnected, rafe finally finds purpose in his new family, vowing to protect and love them unconditionally.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x wife!reader

─ warnings | such a sweet, domestic bliss fic! rafe spoiling tf outta reader, rafe being a girl dad, mentions of toxic family, but other than that it's just so sweet.

─ ev's notes | the chokehold that gif has on me is... insane. also wheezie needs to be included more in fics like... shes so awesome (ik she hasnt done anything but thats kinda the point) ALSOOOO I NEED MORE DOMESTIC RAFE LIKEEEE, PLS SEND ME REQUESTS. i might do a part 2 for this fic cause it's so heartwarming i cannot

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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You’re lounging on the couch, wrapped in the softest cashmere blanket Rafe could find, a far cry from the one you had before. That one had been comfortable too, but Rafe never thought it was enough for you, not when his princess deserved the best. The soft hum of the air conditioner fills the house, the only sound in the otherwise still afternoon, while your fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on your growing belly.

Sunlight streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow over the room, and you sink further into the cushions, feeling the quiet luxury that has come to define your life since you met Rafe. He’s out right now, picking up God knows what — probably more baby things, even though you already have a mountain of stuff piled high in the nursery.

He never does anything halfway. Every stroller, every onesie, every diaper cream has to be top-of-the-line, the best that money can buy. He doesn’t just spoil you, he suffocates you with care, but in the softest, sweetest way possible, so you don’t even mind. No, you love it, revel in it, feeling like you’ve been plucked straight out of one life and placed into another, where all you have to do is exist and be adored.

The front door clicks open, and you can feel his presence before you even see him. He’s always like that, larger than life even when he’s trying to be quiet. You sit up a little, trying to hide the way you’ve been lazily sprawled out, but he’s already at your side, his hands gently urging you back down.

“Relax, baby,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead. His eyes flicker to your belly, then back to you, that familiar mixture of awe and protectiveness gleaming in his gaze. "I've got everything handled. You just need to rest."

You open your mouth to protest, to tell him that you could've gotten up, could’ve helped him with the bags, but he’s already shaking his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if he can read your thoughts before you even say a word.

"Not a chance." He sets the bags down, filled to the brim with things you know you'll never touch, because he’ll do everything for you. “You’re not lifting a finger. Not while I’m around.”

His voice, low and firm, sends a shiver down your spine, the kind of reassurance that only Rafe can offer. He crouches down beside the couch, running his hands over your legs, making sure you’re comfortable—like he always does. His touch is possessive, protective, the kind that says without words, you’re mine to take care of.

You let out a soft sigh, sinking back against the plush cushions as his hand glides up to rest gently on your belly, almost like a reflex now. You’ve noticed that since you started showing, his hands always find their way there. Like he has to be close, to make sure everything’s okay. He’s obsessed, really—your safety, your comfort, your every need. It’s like a switch flipped the moment he found out about the baby, and he hasn’t let you out of his sight since.

“Everything’s fine, Rafe,” you say softly, trying to reassure him, but the way his brow furrows ever so slightly tells you he doesn’t quite believe you. He’s always worrying.

“I know,” he replies, but there’s a tension in his voice, the kind that tells you he’s already thinking five steps ahead—about the doctor’s appointments, the vitamins, the nursery. He leans in, kissing the top of your head as his other hand gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “But you’re carrying our baby. I’m not taking any chances.”

You smile at his overprotectiveness. It used to overwhelm you at first, this all-consuming devotion, but now? Now it’s like second nature, the way he hovers, always making sure you’re not doing too much, that you’re not straining yourself. He’s like a human safety net, never more than a few feet away, always anticipating what you might need before you even know it yourself.

He stands and starts unpacking the bags he brought in—high-end baby gear, of course. Another designer bassinet, this one with extra features that make it look more like a spaceship than something an infant should sleep in. You watch him move around the room with purpose, his movements fluid and sure, as if orchestrating a plan only he’s privy to. He barely spares you a glance, but you know he’s hyper-aware of your presence, always keeping you in his peripheral vision.

“You didn’t have to get all this,” you murmur, though you already know the answer. You say it more out of habit now, like you need to put up some token resistance to the endless stream of gifts and gadgets.

“I know, but I wanted to,” he says without looking up, his tone casual, but you can hear the edge of finality in it. It’s the same way he talks about everything when it comes to you—like there’s no room for negotiation. “Only the best for you and the baby. You deserve it.”

He sets down the bassinet and moves back to you, taking a seat on the edge of the couch, his hand immediately finding yours. He strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, and you lean into him, letting yourself relax in the comfort of his presence. For all his intensity, there’s something so soothing about him when he’s like this—calm, focused, entirely devoted to making sure you’re taken care of.

“Rafe, really… I don’t need all this. I just—” You hesitate, biting your lip. You want to say that all you really need is him, that he’s already more than enough. But before you can finish, his lips brush against your temple, silencing your thoughts.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. I’ve got you. I’ve got everything.” His voice is gentle, but there’s an unshakable confidence behind it, the kind that makes you believe, even for a moment, that the world outside doesn’t exist. That as long as you’re in his orbit, nothing can touch you.

You glance over at the bassinet, the sleek, modern design standing out starkly against the warmth of the room. It’s absurd, really, how much Rafe is willing to spend, how nothing seems too extravagant when it comes to you. But that’s just him—lavish, obsessive, determined to give you a life where you never have to want for anything. And despite how overwhelming it can be sometimes, you can’t deny how intoxicating it is to be the center of someone’s universe like this.

“You think you’ll ever let me out of this house again?” you tease, half-joking, half-serious. He hasn’t exactly been keen on you going anywhere without him lately. Even the grocery store is off-limits unless he’s there to push the cart and carry the bags.

Rafe chuckles softly, but there’s a protective gleam in his eye. “Not until the baby’s here. And even then, only if I’m with you.” He’s only half-joking, and you both know it. The idea of you out in the world, vulnerable, without him by your side—it’s something he can’t stand.

You roll your eyes playfully, but the warmth that spreads through your chest is undeniable. It’s not like you want to go anywhere without him. Not really. The truth is, you’ve gotten used to this, the way he dotes on you, the way he watches over you like you’re the most precious thing in his life. It’s addictive, being adored like this.

“Fine, fine,” you say with a mock sigh of defeat, settling back against the pillows. “I guess I’ll just have to get used to being spoiled.”

Rafe’s smile widens, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “Good,” he says, leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time, lingering. “Cause that’s not changing anytime soon.”

───

The moment he found he was having a girl, his world flipped upside down in the best way possible. The baby shower was small and private, only inviting your close friends and family. And for Rafe, he only invited Wheezie. He doesn't really have family or friends he'd want to be around—he only needs you, really.

Rafe never really had a family, not until he met you. Sarah was... well, Sarah. She used to be a part of his life, but they were worlds apart now, and Rafe had long since stopped trying to bridge the gap between them. She had her own life, her own people, and it didn’t overlap with his anymore. Rafe had always felt like an outsider in his own family, never really fitting in, never living up to what was expected of him. His father was distant, his mother gone, and his siblings—well, they weren’t exactly close.

But you? You were different. From the moment he met you, something shifted. For the first time in his life, he felt like he had something solid, something real. You gave him a reason to try, a reason to build something better than what he grew up with. He didn’t just want a family—he wanted your family. One that wasn’t broken or full of secrets and betrayals, but one where he could be the man he’d always hoped to be.

The moment he found out you were having a girl, everything inside him shifted. He wasn’t just Rafe Cameron anymore. He was going to be a father—a girl dad. The idea scared him at first, the weight of it hitting him harder than anything ever had. He wanted to be perfect for her, for both of you. He wanted to give his daughter everything he never had growing up: stability, love, safety. Things he never knew he craved until now.

The baby shower was intimate, just the way you liked it. Soft pastels draped the room, and delicate decorations hung from the ceiling, a far cry from the over-the-top events Kooks were known for. But that wasn’t you. And that’s why Rafe loved you. You made everything feel simple, real, stripping away the excess that had always suffocated him growing up.

Wheezie was there, of course, quiet and awkward as ever, but Rafe didn’t care. She was the only family he had left that mattered, the only one who hadn’t looked at him like he was too far gone, beyond saving. She wasn’t like Sarah, who had washed her hands of him long ago, or Ward, who saw him as nothing more than a disappointment.

As you sat in the corner, surrounded by a small group of friends, Rafe couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were glowing—literally glowing, your skin radiant, your hands instinctively resting on your belly. You were laughing at something Wheezie said, but all he could think about was how surreal this all was. How he’d gotten here. From the chaos of his old life to this—a quiet, perfect moment.

Rafe didn’t need anyone else, not really. His friends? They were more like shadows of a life he’d left behind. Toxic, empty relationships that had never filled the void. But with you? He felt whole. He didn’t need the Outer Banks, the parties, the fake smiles and empty promises. All he needed was sitting right in front of him—his future, his family.

You caught his eye from across the room and smiled, and just like that, the world shrank down to just the two of you. It always did. Everything else faded away when you were around. He crossed the room, ignoring the small talk and the laughter, his focus entirely on you.

“Hey, princess,” he murmured, kneeling beside your chair, one hand instantly finding your belly like it always did. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before leaning his head against it, closing his eyes for just a second to ground himself in the moment. “You good? Need anything?”

You shook your head, resting your hand on top of his. “I’m fine, Rafe. You don’t need to keep checking on me every five minutes.”

He huffed out a laugh, but there was no humor in it, just a soft kind of affection. “Can’t help it,” he said quietly, opening his eyes to look up at you. “I’ve gotta make sure my girls are okay.”

Your heart melted at that, at the way his entire face softened whenever he talked about you and the baby. Rafe Cameron—the guy everyone thought was a lost cause, a wreck waiting to happen—was now the most devoted man you’d ever met. He wasn’t perfect, far from it. But he tried—tried so damn hard for you.

“Everything’s perfect,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand. “And you’re spoiling me too much. Again.”

A mischievous grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Not possible. I’ll spoil you both for the rest of my life if I have to.”

You laughed, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. “You already are.”

He looked up at you, his eyes full of something soft, something vulnerable. “You know… I never thought I’d have this. A family. Not like this.”

You reached out, gently cupping his face in your hand, your thumb brushing over his cheek. “Well, now you do. And you’re going to be a great dad, Rafe.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes flickering with emotions he didn’t quite know how to put into words. But then he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening slightly, as if he were afraid to let go.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his voice thick with something unspoken. “I guess I do.”

And when his baby girl finally came, his world cracked open in ways he never thought possible. Everything changed in an instant—the noise of the hospital, the rush of doctors, the sterile white walls—all of it faded into the background the moment he saw her. Tiny, fragile, perfect. His heart seemed to stop and race at the same time as the nurse handed her to him, her soft whimpers breaking through the silence like a delicate melody.

Rafe had never known he could love something this much. Not until he was holding his daughter in his arms, her little fingers curling instinctively around his thumb, her eyes barely opening to reveal the softest hint of blue. In that moment, every bad decision he’d ever made, every reckless move, every mistake—it all faded away. Nothing mattered anymore except this.

She was his.

His chest felt tight, his throat constricting as he tried to wrap his head around it all. The weight of responsibility hit him like a wave, but it wasn’t fear that came with it. It was a sense of purpose, a deep, unshakable need to protect her, to give her everything. To never let her feel the kind of emptiness he’d grown up with.

You were lying in the bed, exhausted but glowing, watching him with a tired but content smile. Rafe caught your gaze and smiled back, tears threatening to spill over as he gently cradled your daughter against his chest, her tiny body fitting perfectly in the crook of his arm.

“She’s so small,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, barely above a breath. He felt like he was holding the most precious thing in the world, something so delicate he was terrified of breaking her. But at the same time, he didn’t want to let her go. Ever.

“She’s perfect,” you murmured, your voice soft and full of warmth. “She’s ours.”

Rafe swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were quickly clouding his vision. His thumb gently brushed over the soft tufts of hair on his daughter’s head, his heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt.

“She’s more than perfect,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I—I don’t even know what to say.”

You smiled gently, reaching out for his hand. “You don’t have to say anything. You’re doing it, Rafe. You’re already her father.”

The words hit him like a punch to the chest. He’d never been sure if he’d be good enough for this, good enough for you, for the family you’d built together. But looking at his daughter, her tiny face so serene in his arms, he knew he’d never stop trying. He’d move mountains, tear down the sky, do anything and everything to keep her safe.

Rafe stood there for what felt like hours, rocking her gently as you dozed off, exhausted from labor. He couldn’t take his eyes off his daughter, couldn’t believe she was real. She had your nose, your delicate features, and he could already see hints of his own wild streak in her.

It terrified him, and yet it filled him with a pride he couldn’t put into words.

As she shifted slightly in his arms, letting out the tiniest yawn, Rafe felt his entire world center itself around her. His priorities had changed in an instant, everything he’d once thought was important—money, power, even his own survival—seemed so insignificant now. The only thing that mattered was the little girl sleeping soundly against his chest.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as he whispered, “I’m never letting you go. I promise.”

And in that moment, he meant it. Every word.

He didn’t need anything else—no approval from his family, no redemption from his past. He had you, and now he had her. His little family. A family that was his to protect, his to love, his to spoil with every fiber of his being.

Rafe knew he’d made mistakes—plenty of them—but as he held his daughter close, he made a silent vow to her. He’d be better. He’d always be better for her.

Because now, his world wasn’t just about him anymore. It was about her, about you. And for the first time in his life, he had something worth fighting for that didn’t come with strings attached or conditions. It was just love. Pure, overwhelming, unconditional love.

And Rafe Cameron was never going to let that go.

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sarahowritesostucky · 7 months ago

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Happy Little Family

📖"Taking Back What's His"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6170

Tags: dark!Bucky, mafia/mob au, dubcon/noncon, a/b/o, threats and coercion, rape, forced pregnancy, forced domestic "bliss", yandere, kid fic

Summary: You thought you'd left behind the man who turned out to be more dangerous than you'd ever imagined. But one day he walks back into your life and reminds you that, come hell or high water, you're all going to be one happy. little. family.

This chapter: You try one last, desperate ploy to escape, but it doesn't exactly work out. And James hasn't come alone. The next time you wake up, you're a long way from home.

Nickname Dictionary: vorishka = "little thief" mamochka = "mommy/little mother" kotenok= "kitty/kitten" omegya = (made up) Russian spelling of omega omegechka = (made up) "little omega" krasotka = "Pretty(n.)/pretty one" pchelka = "little bee"

2. Taking Back What's His

(Wait! I haven't read part 1 yet!)

He says something to you, after. Words that might as well be in his native Russian, for how well you take them in. But they're soft, and reassuring—he’s pleased. His body weight moves off the bed.

When you finally open your eyes and blink up at the ceiling, it’s the softest baby pink all around the edges, like smoke curling into your vision. It’s nice, peaceful. Feels good-all-over in that way that painkillers do. You haven’t experienced it since the last time you had sex with an alpha.

Which James unfortunately seems to have figured out was with him, almost two years ago.

“Oh, kotenok, You haven’t been fucking anybody.”

You’re still in the afterglow, mind muzzy, all of your previous panic and fear blunted near to the point of erasure with how nice it feels to float, when you hear James’ pleased chuckle from where he’s getting dressed. He comes back and leans over you. “Hey Sweetheart. Feeling good?”

You frown at him, though it takes a concerted effort to make any expression of displeasure. You want him to know you aren’t happy, that this state he’s fucked you into isn’t real. You want to slap that smug fucking look right off his face. All you manage to come up with is a pouty little “no" that makes James laugh.

“Come here.” He fixes your dress, then helps you up off the bed. He seems to be checking to make sure you’re steady on your feet before he lets you stand on your own. “You good?”

“M’fine.” He knows you too well, knows how intense it can be for you, how strongly you react to him. You avoid his knowing gaze. You’re not completely useless like this. You can still remember everything that’s going on, can still remember June. “Please,” you say again, trying to change the tone of your voice. “Let me give her to Hilde.”

James rolls his eyes. “Right, right. Your friend across the street.”

“Please James?” You look up at him, pink edges all around his face, so pretty. Goddamn him. “She’ll be safe there.”

Again, something passes through his eyes too quickly for you to identify. It might be annoyance. He sighs, and the look, whatever it was, is gone. “Sure thing, Doll. Babies need a lot of stuff. You might as well pack up what she needs.”

You nod tearfully, going to your closet to grab a bag. He follows close behind, sending a clear message that he’s not planning on letting you out of his sights while you do this. James isn’t stupid, you’ll give him that.

In the nursery, June is happy to see you and wants you to pick her up. You talk to her in a sweet, placating voice as you go around the room grabbing different things that she’ll need and stuffing them in the bag. At this point you know to be grateful for the haze. Even as it tapers off, it’s blunting the sorrow that you know would otherwise have you sobbing and your voice clogging with tears. This way at least, you’re able to keep June thinking everything is alright. This way she isn’t scared.

It’s when you’re crouched beside the changing table, stuffing diapers into the bag with James behind you that you get the idea: Downstairs: the kitchen: in the drawer. Your gun.

You stop moving long enough that James notices. “What’re you doing? Come on.”

You stand back up. Yes. You have to do it. This is the only chance you have at getting out of this and not losing June. You lick your lips nervously before turning back around to face him. “I … have to get her bottles and stuff from downstairs,” you say, hoping that the lingering post-coital haze is enough to keep your true intentions off your face. Your eyes flick up to James, who’s squinting at your tits.

“Bottle?” He starts to smirk, and you glare at him.

“Yes. Asshole. I won’t exactly be around to feed her, now will I?”

His face softens at that and he gives you an apologetic look. “Right. Well go on, then.”

You move for the hallway, realize he’s not following you, and turn back in confusion. He’s beside the crib, holding his hand out for June to touch. Your heart leaps from your spot in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

He arches an eyebrow. “I’m waiting right here until you come back upstairs,” he says, his message clear.

Your pulse picks up, but you force yourself to nod. You’re useless without that gun. You have to get to it. He narrows his eyes at you while June giggles and reaches for his wiggling fingers. “No games.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, and turn and head for the stairs.

It’s pure torture to move at a casual speed, especially as your mind is clearing and the fearful emotions returning. In the downstairs hallway, you check once over your shoulder that James hasn’t followed you, then pick up your pace, hurrying into the kitchen and heading straight for the drawer where you keep the gun.

Your eyes tear up as you maneuver past the digital lock that you installed for nothing. June’s still crawling. She never even got old enough to toddle over here. You press the code into the keypad, cringing when it does its quiet little two-tone ‘beep’ at being unlocked. You wait, heart in your throat until you hear the mechanism moving, then rip open the drawer.

Your heart stops and your brain freezes and all you can think is: No. No, no no—

“Looking for this?”

You whirl around, and there he is: standing on the other side of the kitchen, leaning against the sink as he holds your only weapon in his hands.

His face is relaxed, Goddamn him, as he pretends to ignore your horror and instead holds the gun up to flippantly inspect it. “I have to say, Doll, I’m impressed. I would’ve expected some puny girl gun. Ruger, Derringer. But this?” He turns the Skorpion in his hands, and chuckles softly when he sees the cartridge. “Jesus. You really wanted to blow a hole in somebody, didn’t you?” His eyes finally drag up to you, the hand he’s holding the gun with dropping down by his side as he starts walking over, slowly, step by step, eyes boring into you with a growing anger.

Oh shit. Dread curls in your gut but you’re frozen. Bolting now wouldn’t even get you to the staircase. He presses in close, pinning you against the countertop. He brings the gun up and nudges your jaw with it, leaning in and breathing in your face, “Did you really think I wouldn’t find it, vorishka?”[little thief]

He’s taunting you with your own failure, and you can’t stop the whimper that breaks from your throat at having your one and only plan foiled so pathetically easily. “James,” you plead, “I didn’t—”

“Shh sh sh. None of that, now.” He’s speaking softly, sweetly, but he’s furious. He drags his lips over your cheek and the barrel of the gun you stole from him over the other. “So what was the plan? How were you going to kill me with my own gun? Pop upstairs and shoot up the nursery?”

“N-no.”

“Ah. Right. You’re smarter than that. You would’ve waited for me to come down and see what the fuck was taking you so long, or put it in the duffle and waited until we dropped the whelp off at the neighbors. Is that it?"

You sniffle and nod, angry at him for being such an all-knowing asshole. “You can’t hold that against me,” you say, trying to defend yourself.

He nods thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose you’re right. I can’t blame you for that.” Your shoulders start to relax, that is until he pulls back to glare at you and holds the gun to you again, this time pointing it right underneath your chin. He looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. “But do you know what I can hold against you, Little thief?” Your face pinches in fear, sure that you’re about to be shot, and he digs the muzzle cruelly into your skin, forcing you to look at him. “The fact that that pup up there is ten months old, and I’ve never even fucking seen her.”

Your eyes widen as you realize: he knows. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but he beats you to it.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell she’s mine?”

“James,”

“All this time!” he hisses, hurt lancing through his features. “You kept her from me! What gives you the right?”

“I—I didn’t—”

He growls and pushes away from you, several steps back, glaring. “Nothing, is the answer you’re looking for. You had no right to do that.”

You try to edge to the side, but freeze when he straightens his arm and points the gun right at you. “James, wait …”

He aims it at your face, but then lowers it for a center mass shot, which is what really convinces you you’re about to die. “Say goodbye, mamochka,” he says, with steely eyes and his finger curling over the trigger.

It’s a submachine gun that fires in three shot bursts, or fully automatic. Either way, you know you’re about to be riddled with bullets, so you start to hyperventilate. It’s an embarrassing reaction, but at least you have the dignity of knowing what your last words on this earth would’ve been. “Don’t hurt her,” you gasp.

His eyes fill with rage and he pulls the trigger.

… Nothing happens, but you’re bracing so hard that it takes you a full two or three seconds to realize it. Then, when you do realize it, and you see James standing there looking grim but completely unsurprised that you haven’t been shot, all of the breath rushes out of your lungs. You feel like you’re about to faint, which is apparently what he’s waiting for.

He ejects the empty magazine, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really thought I’d do it, didn’t you?” He takes a step forward, but pauses when you flinch back. “What the hell have you convinced yourself that I am?”

You step back again when he moves. “Don’t,” you whisper. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, don’t,” he whispers, mocking you. “Don’t what? Don’t take back what’s mine? The mother of my pup? A pup I didn’t get to see grow or come into this world?” Your breath hitches with emotion and he doesn’t miss it, the bastard. “Yeah,” he says darkly. “You robbed me of that. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry.” He leers up and down your body in its flimsy sundress. “I’ll be putting another one in you real soon.”

You see red. Fury sweeps through you and stings your eyes, roars in your ears. You grab the nearest thing to you, which is the edge of the utensils crock on the counter. It spills over and your hand closes around the handle of the meat mallet. You cry out and swing at him, wanting to smash his smug fucking face to smithereens.

“Woah-ho, easy there.” He laughs and takes a surprised step back, as though you’re nothing but a tantruming child. “Stop being so dramatic.”

You growl and lunge for him again, but cut off in a shriek as someone suddenly grabs you from behind. The meat mallet clatters to the floor as you’re hauled back against the hard body of another man. One big arm wraps around your middle, and the other holds a cloth up at your face, pressing it over your mouth. “Mmph!” you yell out, muffled, and get a huge inhale of chlorine-like smell into your lungs for your trouble. You hold your breath and thrash, but it’s less than useless. The person holding you is large and strong. When you try to headbutt him, it doesn't even clip his chin. You bring your hands up to try and claw at the hand holding the cloth over your mouth, but your nails meet metal instead of skin, and you gasp in another inhale of chemicals as you realize who it is. “Mmph!”

James steps up close, smirking fondly as he watches you fighting the urge to inhale. Eventually he tuts and reaches up to cup your cheek. “Shhh, omegechka. Stop. Stop fighting now. It’s all over.”

“Nngh!”

“Just take a deep breath and go to sleep. Everything’ll be alright, I promise. Just relax.” You whimper as you feel yourself running out of air, knowing that your body’s going to force you to draw breath in a second. James leans in and kisses your forehead tenderly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispers, just as your vision starts to fade out, “or our daughter.”

The smell of professionally scented, circulating air hits you first, and then the taste of old pennies in your mouth. Then, a gradually increasing sense of awareness of your body in space and time. At first you think you're somewhere very bright, as colors and rainbows dance through your lashes, but the more you blink your eyes open, the more the brightness fades and your vision comes into focus.

And there he is: holding a crystal tumbler and looking like he's been waiting for you to come round. "Well hello there, Sleepyhead,” he says. “Welcome back." He takes a sip of whatever it is he’s drinking, the ice cubes clinking softly against the sides of the glass. He looks totally relaxed.

You sit up straighter in the seat where you’d been slumped, moving your tongue around inside of your dry mouth and trying to remember what happened. And then reality hits you in waves, each one more devastating than the last:

James—He found you.

June—She's not there.

"How're you feeling? Thirsty?"

You blink, dazed, a few lingering specks still floating at the edges of your vision. You look around the room you’re in, clocking your surroundings. Windows, cabin—Shit. You're already on a plane. Pressure builds rapidly at the backs of your eyes as you fight not to cry, thinking of your baby girl left behind, never getting to see her again.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Bucky’s eyes sharpen on you when your stifled sob breaks out and you throw a hand over your mouth. "Steve,” he says, still watching you in concern. “Get her a bottle of water."

“Sure thing, boss.”

And then the worst realization of all: You look over and see the winter fucking soldier walking down the aisle, holding your baby.

They've got June.

Your eyes widen and you make a distressed little ‘meep’ of a sound. “Steve!” you blurt, and he turns to face you. He looks surprised that you’ve spoken directly to him. He’s not wearing his usual black mask, but he still looks huge and intimidating, and it’s like seeing a wild animal right next to your baby—dangerous, wrong. Your mouth works uselessly as you stare at his hands on June’s body: one supporting her head, and the metal one scooped under her butt. You see her back rise and fall steadily through her bumblebee onesie and you realize that she’s asleep. “I-is she okay?” you ask, heart in your throat.

Steve’s eyes narrow at you, but he nods curtly. “She’s fine.”

Across from you, James scoffs, drawing your attention back to him. “He’s going to put her down. There’s a crib in the back. She’ll be fine,” he says, when he sees you stiffen in protest. “You and I have some catching up to do, vorishka.”

“I thought we did that back in my bedroom,” you snap.

“You still want the water?” Steve asks.

“That’s okay.” Bucky keeps his eyes on you. “I’ll take care of her. You just stay back there with pchelka while she sleeps.”

Steve nods, and you can’t help yourself. “Wait! Please. Please give her to me. Steve?” You sit forward with your arms outstretched, but can only watch helplessly as the other man obeys Bucky and ignores you, disappearing back into the next section of the plane. Bastard never did like you.

“She’ll be fine,” Bucky assures you. “Just sit back and relax. We won’t be in the air for too long.”

You hate it, but you do sit back in the chair. James won’t hurt her. You know that. Especially now that you know he knows. You look around the cabin, taking in the wide, leather seats and gleaming wood finishes. There’s a couch, tv, a bar. A fucking electric fireplace. It's the sort of luxury you used to go starry-eyed over; incredibly rich men, fat or old or ugly, tripping all over themselves to spoil you.

… Only, James was never any of those things.

“This is your plane?” you ask, dragging your hand over the arm of your seat.

James smirks. “What? You thought I’d kidnap you and then fly commercial?”

You purse your lips at his joke. “I guess not.” You relax back, trying to get your bearings. It is bad news that you’re already on a plane with him. You’ll be landing at his private airstrip at the Siberia compound, which gives you no middle ground to run. You bite your lip as your thoughts race and you try to think of anything you might be able to do once you get to—

“Stop it,” James says quietly, drawing your attention back to him. He’s giving you a stern look. “You barely got away before, and that was on your own. Now we’ve got our daughter. Anything you try will put her in unnecessary danger and you know that.” He shakes his head, some of that sadness from before creeping back into his eyes. “You’re not leaving me again, omegechka.”

“I’m not?” you echo, stuck in place by his stare, by the memories you share with him, and the fear you have of what he’s planning for your punishment. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m just taking back what’s mine, Sweetheart. You do realize that?” You fail to answer him and his gaze hardens just a little bit. “That’s okay. You’ll see it eventually. This isn’t a bad thing. If you had just stuck around a little longer instead of lying to me and running off, then you would’ve seen it before, and we wouldn’t have to be going through this right now.” He raises his drink to you in a little salute. “You, me, and pchelka? We’re going to be a family.”

You don’t refuse the water he gives you, or the drink that he mixes for you, after. If James wanted to keep you drugged up until reaching Siberia, he certainly could’ve done so without allowing you to wake up on the plane. You’re only conscious right now because he wants you to be. And because you know that, you don’t protest the drink he prepares for you over at the bar. To be honest, a stiff one actually sounds really good right about now.

“Thank you,” you murmur as he hands it over, still unmoored by this drastic shift in circumstances. A few hours ago you’d been safe in your cottage, then suddenly you weren’t. One minute you’re sure you’re about to get a bullet in the face from this man, and the next, he’s got you sipping thousand dollar vodka on his private jet, calmly explaining how he intends to keep you and force you into some twisted form of domestic bliss.

“I had a whole renovation done for her,” he tells you. “Pchelka will have plenty of room to play and grow.”

You frown, hating the idea of your daughter growing up in that cold, Siberian fortress. You don’t care if he’s bought her an indoor waterslide and a herd of ponies. It’s no place for a child. “What does that mean?” you ask grumpily. “That word: chelk—? You keep using it. You can’t just rename my daughter.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he wipes it away fast. “Pchelka means little bee. The outfit you put her in has bees on it.”

“Oh … Right.” You love that set. It’d been another gift at the shower, from Hilde.

“And she’s my daughter too,” James says tightly.

You gulp at the bitterness in his tone, at his eyes boring into you with reproach. It’s silly, but you do feel bad about hurting him in this one way, at least. “Her name is June,” you offer quietly.

His face draws tight with emotion that’s impossible for you to decipher. Mostly you just sense hurt coming off of him, tingeing his scent and making it into something mournful and awful. He stares at you for a long time. “You made me think you’d lost it,” he eventually whispers. “How could you do that to me?”

You shake your head. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not. You’re just sorry that I found you.”

“I saw you kill people, James!” you cry. “I saw who you really are. I couldn’t stay. Not after that.”

His mouth ticks up at the corners. “Oh, Sweetheart. You’ve got no idea who I am, or what I’ve done for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His eyes gleam and he lifts his drink, tipping back the last of it. “Do you even remember where we met?”

You frown. “Of course.” You’d met him on a yacht, off the coast of Greece. At a party you’d been paid to attend as one of a flock of similarly hired ‘pretty girls’. Five hundred bucks just to sit around and drink cocktails for a few hours and make whoever owned the yacht look like a successful playboy. James had taken one look at you and made it his mission to charm you off of that boat with him. And you’d fallen for it, hook line and sinker. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” he says disdainfully. “Don’t know how lucky you really are. I saved you.”

You scoff. “You’re no different from those boat guys. You think you’re so special, God’s gift to omegas, I get it.”

“No,” he grits. “You really don’t.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t know! I know what I saw. All over the floor of your goddamn office. I slipped in it for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, right. The men you saw me kill,” he says, referencing the scene you’d walked in on just before you’d faked your miscarriage and fled. “You were eavesdropping outside the door, weren’t you, Little thief?”

You jut your chin out. “Yes. So what?”

“You know, I’d always assumed you heard the entire conversation. Now I realize I was wrong.”

“What?”

He laughs under his breath—at your expense, you suspect. “Who exactly do you think they were?”

“Your business associates. The same sort of underworld, black market scum as you. Only they didn't work for you. You screwed them over and they were there to collect what you owed them, and you murdered them instead.”

James scoffs and smiles angrily, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he looks away in frustration. "Figures," he mutters.

“What?” you snap. “You’re gonna deny it?”

“I’m not denying anything. But I killed them for you.”

“Oh please. Just stop it. Stop lying! I know what you do for work.”

Granted, you'd been a little slow on the uptake back then, too enamored and swept up in the whirlwind romance with your first Alpha that you hadn’t ever stopped to wonder where his money came from, or where it was he jetted off to “on business” every few days. It’d taken a year for you to piece it together, to see the true magnitude of the enterprise he ran, and how dark it really was.

Sitting in front of you now, he doesn’t deny it, which only bolsters your disdain for him. “I don’t want that in my life,” you hiss. “Arms dealing, drugs, smuggling, mercenaries. And apparently human trafficking as well.”

His eyes flash. “They don’t call it that, you know. It’s called the ‘skin trade’.”

“I don’t care.”

He gets up to go pour himself another drink at the bar. “Right,” he snaps, like you’re an idiot. “You’re so fucking naïve, krasotka [pretty (n.)]. So convinced that I’m the devil. But you have no idea how much worse it could’ve been for you.”

“You threatened to sell your own daughter before you figured out she was yours!”

Refusing to be provoked, he returns to stand right in front of you, forcing you to look up at him towering over you. “I knew she was mine from the second I walked in that house,” he says, making your breath catch.

“How?”

He smiles nastily and takes a sip from his drink, then sets it aside. He leans over you with his hands on the back of your seat, caging you in. You can smell the expensive alcohol on his breath as he gets in your face and tells you, “I put that baby in you, moya omegya. She’s a part of me. You think I wouldn’t be able to figure that out? Think an Alpha doesn’t know the scent of his own flesh and blood?”

You tense, fighting not to shrink away. “You’re making that up.”

He chuckles lowly and puts his face right next to yours, cheek to cheek, savoring your reaction. “Sweetheart,” he purrs, “I may not have forced a mating bite on you back then like I should have, but there are other ways to leave your mark on someone.” He dips in to kiss your neck, right over your unbitten glands. “I found you by your scent,” he whispers. “Sniffed you out.”

You shiver at his hot breath on your skin and the deadly soft tone of his voice. The way your body responds to him isn’t anything you can control, and he knows that, but it still makes you flush with embarrassment when he takes a deep inhale in the bend of your neck and hums with satisfaction when he smells the effect he’s had on you. “I wouldn’t have sold her anyway,” he tells you, pulling back and picking up his drink. “I want you to know that. I don’t participate in the skin trade.”

You swallow thickly, watching him watch you as he waits for you to react to him in some way. You don’t know why you believe him about this one thing, but you do. “But you’re aware of it,” you say. “You know it happens, and you don’t do anything to stop it.”

His jaw works in frustration. “I’ve interfered a time or two, when I could get away with it.”

“Well, aren't you a hero.”

“I didn’t say that,” he snaps. “I said I’ve done what little I could. These men make a lot of money dealing in omegas, and they don’t take kindly to being stolen from.”

“I can imagine.”

“No,” he mutters into his drink. “You really can’t.”

There’s something oddly bitter in his tone, like he's working hard not to tell you something. You bite your lip and watch him for a minute. “... How much?” you ask.

“What?” His eyes darken when he figures out what you’re asking. “No.”

“Tell me.”

“It depends,” he grits, glaring at you. "Now cut it out."

Sober, you might have; but half a vodka spritzer after nineteen months of no alcohol has you bolder than you usually would be. You look down at yourself, feigning flippancy. “Well what about me? How much would I go for?”

“Kotenok,” he warns lowly, growling when you continue to press him with a snotty little,

“Come on, I thought you were such a dangerous criminal? You can’t even discuss a little human trafficking with the weak omega you just trafficked?”

He probably knows you’re trying to antagonize him, but he still rises to the bait. He sits back and lets his eyes drag over your body in a way that makes your pulse pick up. “Well,” he drawls, “you just had a baby. So that’s less right there.” Your nostrils flare angrily and he gives you a look. “You’re the one who asked,” he reminds, waiting until you give him a nod to continue. He gives you another onceover, this time lingering in certain places longer, a softer look in his eyes for the softer parts of your body. He almost seems to get distracted. He catches himself overindulging and looks away, like it’s hurting him to consider you this way. “Most people want their omegas untouched,” he says quietly. “Especially if the buyer's alpha, which they usually are. It’s an instinctual thing for us. We’re very driven to possess. We don’t like to share.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” you mutter.

His gaze snaps back to you, a painful amount of familiarity in his eyes. “You’dve been a couple million, back when we first met.”

Your eyes widen. You weren't expecting that. “But … I wasn’t even a virgin.”

He arches an eyebrow. “I said untouched, not virginal. Not in that way. Alpha buyers want unbonded and never bred, first and foremost.” He leers at you. “Not that there aren’t some who’ll pay a little extra to pop a girl’s cherry. But that’s not the main thing they’re looking for, when they buy.”

You scowl. “Right. So I guess I’m damaged goods now."

“Oh no, mamochka,” he says seriously. “You’ve only gone up in value in my eyes. Though believe me when I say I’m more than happy to contribute to the depletion of your market value." He raises his glass to his lips, looking darkly pleased. “You’re not for sale, and you never will be. You’re mine.”

You're embarrassed to be the one to break eye contact first, but you can’t keep listening to him talk about how much he likes you and watching him look at you like you’re his most prized possession. With any other man you’d just be disgusted, but James has always had a knack for getting you flustered, and he knows it. There’s always been an inexplicable pull between the two of you, and he knows that, too. It’s the main reason why you've always refused his attempts to bond you. You're terrified of what it’ll be like after, since you already know how pathetically helpless you are around him without a bond.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you mumble quietly. “Where is it?”

“Just down there.” He nods in the direction behind you, opposite from where Steve had gone with June.

You press your lips together and get up without looking at him, but you can feel his eyes on you the entire time you’re walking away.

“Don’t take too long in there, kotenok,” he purrs from back in his seat. “Or I’ll have to come in after you.”

In the bathroom, you splash water on your face and lean against the sink, looking at the girl staring back at you in the mirror. You blink, and she blinks, but it feels like you’re looking at another person, someone you don’t know. She looks fragile. Tired, and dazed. June’s been sleeping through the night for months, but it’s been a hell of a day.

You scrutinize your reflection, smoothing your dress and tucking your hair behind your ears, thinking about how you have zero makeup on. Then you scoff at yourself for caring what you look like in front of him. You think about how much you’ve changed in the seventeen months since you ran away. Not just physically, but mentally. You’ve had to be so strong. For June, for yourself. It’s been awful, and lonely, and you’ve hated yourself for not being able to stop missing him.

You sniffle and splash more water on your face, grumpily thinking that postpartum hormones are so much worse than the pregnancy ones. You grab the towel off the wall, but freeze when you bring it up to pat your face dry and get a smell of it.

Oh.

You whimper, unable to keep from pressing it harder to your mouth and nose and inhaling deeply. It’s James’ scent, and it smells so good. It smells like Safety and Love and Alpha. You hear the sound of your own, needy mewl and you gasp, yanking the towel away from your face and tossing it into the sink, trying to keep your shit together. You brace your hands on the counter and glare at your reflection to tell her to stop it, stop it, stop it, but all it takes is seeing your lower lip quiver, and soon your entire face is collapsing in long-repressed sadness. You turn away from the mirror with a pathetic noise, throat aching from the urge to keen.

Why does this have to be happening?! You’ve tried so hard, for so long. To be strong for June, to get over him, to move on! You bury your face in your hands and choke on a wrenching sob. You know you have to be quiet, have to stop, have to pull yourself together before he—

A soft knock comes from outside the bathroom. “Doll?”

You whine and hastily search for a lock on the door, but there is none, and James hears your crying and pulls the door open. “Honey,” he mourns when he sees you. “What’s wrong?”

You push past him, hurrying in the direction he isn’t blocking. “Leave me alone!” you cry, hating the blubbering in your voice that makes you sound just as weak as James thinks you are. You arrive in a perfectly made up bedroom with no point of egress other than the one you arrived through. You whine in distress, circle around helplessly, and then throw yourself onto the bed when he arrives at the doorway looking worried. “Leave me alone!” you cry, curling onto your side and pulling one of the pillows down to bury your face in. At least it isn’t suffused with James’ scent. You still cry though, unable to keep it in anymore now that you’ve started.

He tuts sadly from the doorway and comes into the room slowly. He stands there for a long minute, silent, before he sighs and his weight comes onto the bed. “Sweetheart,” he says.

“Just leave me alone,” you whine miserably. “Go away!”

“Shh sh sh.” He curls up behind you, arms around your waist and legs pushing in behind yours. He kisses your shoulder and hugs you, but it only makes you cry harder at how achingly familiar it is. “It’s okay,” he murmurs between kisses. He doesn’t try to get you to stop crying, or ask you what’s wrong. He seems to know exactly why you’re breaking down, and he simply devotes all his efforts to helping you calm down in your own time. “S’okay, s’okay. Everything’s gonna be okay,” he keeps saying, soothing you with a deep rumble in his chest. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. I’ve got you now. It’s all gonna be okay. Shhh.”

At first, his placating makes you angry, but not enough to stop your crying, and once that tapers off from sobs to quiet, sniffling tears, you can’t seem to dredge up the anger anymore. It isn’t there.

“You feeling a little better?” he asks kindly, gently tucking your hair behind your ear and then hugging you again.

You whine when you feel his lips against your neck. “I’m fine,” you rasp, voice coming out scratchy from all of the crying. You cringe and scrub your face into the pillow in embarrassment. “Just got a little sad.”

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly, giving you a supportive squeeze. “That’s okay.”

You hate how he says it, because it’s obvious that he knows why you were crying: Poor, sad little omega, bawling her eyes out over how much she’s missed her Alpha. He nuzzles into your neck, telling you it’s okay and that you’re allowed to cry. As much as you hate him being able to see into you so easily, you’re just grateful that he isn’t rubbing your face in it right now. The way he's holding you and comforting you feels good. You don’t fight to get away from him.

The two of you lie there together for what feels like a long time. Once you’ve stopped crying and are only giving the occasional sniffle for your runny nose, he goes back to running his hand over your side. It’s a gesture of comfort. He’s not groping you, but even still, you blush at the vulnerability of it. You find yourself glad that you’re facing away from him.

The plane shifts noticeably, and James’ hand pauses on your hip. “Pilot said we’re landing soon,” he murmurs. “Should probably go and get pchelka up.”

You sniffle and fight off the urge of resurfacing tears at hearing him reference June. One day of knowing his daughter and already he’s got a nickname for her. You should be annoyed by that, but instead it just makes your heart squeeze with emotion. “Pchelka,” you whisper, trying out the word.

“Yeah.” He hums happily and kisses your shoulder one last time. “Little bee. Come on. Let’s go.”

You don’t think about how it’s far too soon to have arrived at your destination, until you’re back in the main room of the cabin on the way to where Steve disappeared with June, earlier. You pause at the windows, peering out at the landscape. “This isn’t Russia,” you say, confused. The plane is definitely descending, but you’ve only been in the air for a few hours at most. “James?” you ask, as he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. Together, you both look out at the looming mountains and turquoise waters below. “Where are we?” you breathe.

James rests his chin on your shoulder and sighs happily. “Home,” he says. “We’re home.”

A.N.: See? Much less Rapey! Plenty more mega-dub con to come though, so don't you angst-lovers worry. Thanks for reading!💖Sarah

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chuunai · 11 months ago

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baby daddy chuuya ! who has been there for you every step of the way since he got you pregnant. the moment you told him that you had his kid in your belly, he swore that he’d be the best dad and husband he could be, kissing your cheeks and resting a hand on your then flat stomach. he’s already scheduling ultrasounds and prenatal appointments of the best care. a baby. his baby. with you.

baby daddy chuuya ! who pulls back your hair and rubs your back while you vomit from morning sickness. gently wiping your mouth with a towel after you finish, hugging you for support before getting you medication. he’s a bit sorry that his kid is already causing issues, but he’s more focused on you. he HATES the fact that you’re suffering, and will be for nine months.

baby daddy chuuya ! who cries after finding out during your first ultrasound that he’s not having just one baby with you, but two of them. he’s a proud father, gladly framing the pictures of the twins in your womb in the main hallway and also keeping a small picture for himself in his wallet. he’ll show off to his men, obviously. his wife is expecting twins, and it’s something he’ll fucking celebrate, alright.

baby daddy chuuya ! who plans a lavish baby shower with your friends and his own friends from the Mafia. the whole time during the party he’s keeping a hand on your swollen belly protectively—his duty as a soon-to-be dad. you’re not lifting a single one of your pretty fingers, not when he can help it. it’s a great party, with it ending with gifts and congratulations from everyone.

baby daddy chuuya ! who goes wild on preparing a nursery for the twins—one boy, and one girl—and who isn’t afraid on spending a shitload of money while doing so. the safest sturdy baby cribs, the softest plushies, tiny clothes, diapers, etc. his children deserve the best, and they’ll get nothing less than that. plus, he finally learns how to build a fucking crib after staring at a manual for 40+ hours and cursing every two seconds. it makes your pregnancy a bit more bearable watching your husband glare at a wrench.

baby daddy chuuya ! who indulges in your weird cravings and tries to appease you. you want pickles dipped in peanut butter? weird, but he’s got it. oh, you changed your mind and instead want ice-cream with cheetos and banana slices? sure, babe. he’ll still make you eat healthy though, even deciding that since you couldn’t drink, he wouldn’t either. you’re carrying two energetic babies, the least he could do was not drink.

baby daddy chuuya ! who’s practically attached to your baby bump. rubbing it—with or without lotion—, kissing the distended belly button, or hell, even talking to his kids inside. playfully scolding them about ‘bothering mom’ and how they were little gremlins. or the times where’d it be late at night and his head rested on your belly, murmuring about how much he loved them and how he’d always protect them no matter what.

baby daddy chuuya ! who ultimately just wants to live as much as a ‘normal life’ with you and his children. his kids won’t be involved with Yokohama’s dangerous underground activities as long as he can help it. no, they’ll live a life he never got to have. safety. love. and the happiest family in the world. his top priorities, now? making sure his family is safe and happy. forever.

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diapereddoe · 4 months ago

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Who on tumblr would you most like to have a playdate with?

Hmmmm. I’d love to be babysat by @hockeynhandcuffss and @mama-scarebear

I think I would have a fun gross time teasing @petalsplayplace and @messylilbaby

@thischarmingbaby and I would be having grown up conversation but in our diapers lol

@wesley-marvel-humiliation would bully the shit out of me

@asleepydoll is just the softest little baby who I bet is super fun to be little with

There’s also a ton of other people that I’m forgetting but yeah I’d have fun hanging out with a lot you weirdos 😍

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takotakigum · 1 year ago

Text

moments — itoshi sae.

characters: itoshi sae x gn!reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, established relationships, and parent!reader&sae.

word count: 600

synopsis: one little thing your husband, itoshi sae, does in the mornings for you and your little one.

aged up characters | please read at your own risk!

the moment he’s woken up by his alarm, he’s sure to be the one to tend to your baby in the morning. no buts, it’s all on him.

“i can do it…go sleep more, handsome.” you always mumble so incoherently to the fabric of his shirt, blocking your ears sluggishly from the ringing. when sae doesn’t budge, you only say: “i said, i’ll go to…” but your voice tapers off, quiet as the wind idling in the night streets. it’s gotten to the point where sae would immediately understand the same thing you mutter verbatim.

you refuse to let go of his body when he really has to start the day, though. whenever you cling onto his abdomen, begging him not to leave the bed, he sighs and kisses the top of your head to ease your morning complaints—which usually works. because after a few moments, you’re back to sleep, with arms loosely wrapped around him. gently, sae replaces his figure with a nearby pillow for his absence, and you don’t notice a thing.

then, sae is quick to move to your baby’s nursery room.

gently, he wakes your baby up, muttering the softest “good morning” to them as he rubs their back. once your baby starts to stir from their sleep, they refuse to look at sae, turning their head away from him while trying to sleep once more. it’s cute, it really is—because sae always gets reminded of you.

reluctantly for the baby, sae picks them up. their droopy eyes and heavy head loses it’s balance and lands straight to sae’s shoulder. for the meantime, it’s fine, sae would let your kid sleep once more while he prepares their morning bottle of milk. and always, always after the bottle has been warmed up just right, your baby suddenly awakens and makes grabby hands for the nursing bottle.

as your baby feeds on the bottle, their puffed, rosy cheeks become unbearable for sae not to kiss. so, he kisses it. one time seems perfect enough for your husband, because it’s not a quick peck, no—it’s actually those obnoxiously loud ones that either leave babies with a furrowed brow or a giggling mess. perhaps luckily for sae, your baby just blinks at him, mind and body too engrossed with the formula they’re drinking.

by the time your baby is done with the bottle, sae wipes off any excess milk on the corners of their mouth with a wet wipe, change their clothes, and diapers into something new and fresh.

why?

so that the moment he’s back with your baby in the master bedroom, you’ll be delighted the little one has already been taken care of. “hi, baby.” you whisper, poking at your kid’s cheek as sae sits down on the bed, resting his back on the headboard with your baby in his arms. “hello.” he whispers back, and you almost spring out of the mattress to laugh at his antics. “not really you, but good morning, handsome.” you smile, eyes are closed yet emits a stare of pure adoration.

“thank you.” you say in a hushed voice, noticing your baby falling asleep once again which always leaves sae sighing. “i’m not letting you do all the hard work, you know?” sae intertwines his fingers with yours, pulling your figure closer to him. “mn. of course i know. that’s why i said thanks.” sae gives you the same overly soft smile he always gives to your baby in the morning, but this time, his eyes crinkle just right, all from smiling at you.

and so, itoshi sae’s morning always starts of wonderful, it knits a gentle blanket surrounding his heart with such a warmth he’s never felt before. simple acts of kindness, in the itoshi’s now household, is worth something beyond the stars could stretch out and discover. which also means he’ll get extra love and affection from you—as if you don’t give him more than the limits could ever reach—and ultimately, spend time with you and his little one, too.

#blue lock #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #bllk #itoshi sae #reader #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #sae #takotakigum.writes

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minminyoonjii · 4 months ago

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Yay! I was wondering if I could request something like very little!reader needing a diaper, but they are embarrassed and won't wear one, and how the different caregivers would convince their little to wear it? Thank you!

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🧡Stray Kids Scenarios Masterlist

🌹CW

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 1.3K

Bang Chan

"Look, baby. It has pretty patterns on it," he said, holding the diaper up. You crossed your legs, "No!" you exclaimed, your cheeks burning red from embarrassment. Chan sighed, patting your tummy, "I know it's a new experience for you, little one. And I know it's going to feel odd but you've been slipping into a younger headspace these days. Daddy's just worried you might feel too helpless without the diaper," he said, kissing your forehead. "I'm big enough," you murmured, nibbling on your bottom lip. Chan chuckled softly, "Baby, you're far from big. You're Daddy's little one. And little ones like you need your diaper. It's not something to be ashamed of, Daddy swears on Wolfie," he said, holding Wolfchan to his chest. You reluctantly uncross your legs, "Can I just try it on first?" you murmured, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Chan smiled, "Of course, baby. Daddy always knows what you need," he said, putting your feet through the holes. "Up," Chan said, asking you to lift your hips. You did as told and squirmed, the diaper coaxing your mind into a familiar haze.

Lee Minho

"Cupcake, it's time," Minho said, carrying you out of the crib. You whined, trying to swat him with your mitten hands. Minho cooed, removing your pacifier, "Mama bought you kitty diapers," he said, showing you the design. You gulped, not wanting to wear it, "Hhgh," you whined, trying to swat him again. Minho clicked his tongue, "Cupcake, we discussed this before. Little ones' like you can't hold their bladder. How many times did you wake Mama up because of an accident, hm?" he asked, removing the clasps on your onesie. You sniffled, rubbing your eyes with the mittens. Minho sighed, blowing raspberries into your tummy. Forcing giggles past your lips. He chuckled, "You'll get used to it, cupcake. Mama knows you'll like it eventually," he said, laying the diaper beneath you and taping it up.

Seo Changbin

"Agi-ah. Stop hiding from Baba," he called out, looking around for you. "Don't wanna!" you exclaimed before covering your mouth. Changbin chuckled and made his way to the closet, "Aigo, uri agi. It's dusty in there," he said, carrying you out. You whined, laying your head on his shoulders, "No want diaper. Diaper uncomfy," you grumbled, puffing your cheeks. Changbin bit back a smirk, "How would you know, hm? You didn't even try it yet," he said, laying you on the changing mat. You crossed your arms, "Just know!" you retorted, squinting at him. Changbin wiped you down, "It's going to be the softest thing you wear. Baba promise," he said, dusting powder on your sensitive parts. You laid pliant, letting him put your feet in the correct holes. Changbin smiled, "Good job, agi-deul," he cooed, pulling it up your waist. He was right, it was the softest thing you wore.

Hwang Hyunjin

"Lovely, you need to wear a diaper if we're going out," he said, putting his hands on his waist. You stuck your tongue at him, "No diaper!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms. Hyunjin exhaled deeply, "Fine. Then Papa and Kkami will go out without you," he said, forgetting he shouldn't be petty with you. Tears spilt down your cheeks, and wails echoed within the house. Hyunjin's breath hitched, "Oh my pretty love. Papa didn't mean it, lovely. Papa just wants you to wear a pretty diaper so that he can go out with you," he whimpered, pulling you close to his chest. You burrowed into his hold, "But it's embarrassing," you whined, rubbing your tears on his shirt. Hyunjin kissed your forehead, "Every little one wears a diaper when they go out. All the big kids will say you did a good job for wearing it, lovely," he said, rocking you. "Only if it's a pretty one," you grumbled, giving in. Hyunjin chuckled, kissing your nose, "Only the prettiest for the prettiest little love," he said, lifting you up.

Han Jisung

"Appa!" you sobbed, forcing Jisung out of the shower. He stumbled out of the bathroom with a skimpy towel that barely covered him properly, "Sweetheart!?" he called out, following your cries. Tears streamed down your cheek like a broken pipe, your shirt drenched from tears and drool. Jisung felt his heartache, "Sweetie," he whispered, carrying you up when he noticed your damp shorts. "Ah," he sighed, chuckling softly when he realized your distress. Jisung carried you to the bathroom, "You're lucky Appa wasn't done in the shower," he said, undressing you. Soft sniffles echoed within the bathroom. Jisung cooed and gave you a good cleanup, "It's about time, you wear a diaper, sweetheart," he said, kissing your nose. You shook your head, "But diapers for tiny littles," you murmured, rubbing your sleepy eyes. Jisung smiled, "You're that tiny little, sweetie. Appa will put the diaper on properly. You don't have to worry about accidents or rashes anytime soon," he reassured, stroking your hair.

Lee Felix

You rubbed your eyes, stirring awake when Felix smiled down at you. "Wakey, wakey, sunshine," he said, stroking your hair. You furrowed your eyebrows at his odd behaviour, "Mommy?" you whispered, wondering if you were looking at a skinwalker. Felix chuckled, pushing down the side of the crib, "It's me, sunbeam," he said, unwrapping your burrito-tucked body. You stretched out of confines, feeling comfy. Felix turned your body towards him, your legs dangling off the sides of the crib, "Do you know what day it is today?" he asked, setting baby powder, rash cream and a diaper next to you. "No!" you exclaimed after realizing what it was. Felix nuzzled his face into your tummy, "Yes!" he retorted, kissing your belly button. You whined, trying to squirm away from him. "Not so fast, little sunbeam. You promised me you'd give it a chance," he said, undressing your lower half. You jutted your bottom lip, "Hmph," you sulked, glaring at him. Felix smiled, "You'll get your brownie milkies if you do," he said, knowing you couldn't deny it. You grumbled but allowed him to put the diaper on you.

Kim Seungmin

"Munchkin, if you keep running around nude I will tell your Mama," he warned, making you halt your feet. "Not Mama," you said, glaring at him. Seungmin smirked, "Yes Mama," crossing his arms. You reluctantly went towards him. "Good munchkin," he said, dressing you up. You flinched when you heard the familiar sound of tape being opened, "No diaper!" you exclaimed, trying to escape his hold. Seungmin groaned but held you firm, "Yes diaper," he said, pampering kisses to distract you. Giggles spilt from your lips, "It tickles," you gasped, squirming. Seungmin chuckled, strapping you in the diaper, "That wasn't so hard now was it?" he teased, loosening his hold. You tried to kick it off but it didn't work. Seungmin grinned, proud of himself, "Munchkin it's better for you to have it on," he said, placing a loud smooch on your cheek. You grumbled but eventually fell asleep with the diaper on.

Yang Jeongin

"Angel, something just came in the mail," he said, opening it up. You snapped out of your headspace, "Wait!" you exclaimed behind your pacifier. "Eh?" Jeongin said, taking out a pack of reusable diapers. Blush burned your cheeks, "Ninnin," you mumbled, fidgeting with your plush. Jeongin chuckled, ruffling your hair, "Do you want to try it on, angel?" he asked, stroking your cheeks. You gulped, looking up at him. Jeongin cooed, carrying you easily, "Come on, angel. Ninnin will help you in them," he said, laying you on the couch. You covered your face with your plush, "I bought them for aesthetics," you mumbled, ashamed of your need. "Tsk, tsk. Angel these are in your size and it'd be a waste for aesthetics. Don't you want to try them? Ninnin wants to see his little angel in their diapers," he sulked, hoping you'd give in. You peeked from your plushie, "Want wear them too," you whispered, finding comfort in his words. Jeongin chuckled, kissing your nose, "That's my little angel," he praised, lifting your hips and sliding the diapers beneath you.

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 8 months ago

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Baby Daddy AU

Ok I love the image of Miguel being the softest dad ever to Gabi’s baby sibling once they’re born. After years of yearning for Y/N, he finally got to marry her and be parents together 🥹

He’s just too in love with her

😭he’s over the fucking moon now that he has his little family together again with a new addition.

He can’t tell if the second round of new born is easier because of the experience from Gabri or if it’s all just a big thing of déjà vu cuz it’s been so long since he’s had to change a diaper or trying to get the baby to sleep through the night.

At times, it feels soooo overwhelming. The stress of a new baby, rebuilding your old relationship, plus making sure you still Gabi attention and Miguel having to work a bit longer hours because he insisted that you quit your job and stay home till your fully recovered from pregnancy (and whenever you were mentally ready to start working again) , it can all pile on top of each other and he can’t help but think back about how the stress had strained the relationship the first time around.

But he’s determined to do things differently this time around, he had almost lost you forever to another man and he refuses to ever let you walk away from him again. You’re more then just his baby mommy now. You were his wife.

His wife.

He could say those words over and over and he’ll never get tired of it.

And when he thinks your asleep when it’s his turn to get the baby, you can’t help but sneak a peek of him holding your baby like it’s the most important thing in the world, so small in his large hands, the way his tired eyes and smile lived down so lovingly. It made your heart jump to your throat.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am.” You’d think as you looked over at him, before shutting your eyes so he didn’t see you awake. Knowing he wanted you to get as much sleep until the next time the baby woke.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am.” He’d think as he rocked his child in his arms, looking over at the angel in his bed he was able to call his wife. Mumbling spanish lullabies till his baby was lulled to sleep.

(My harmonies are all over the place I’m crying as I typed this idk why I keep getting carried away with these)

(Also idk if the baby is gonna be a boy or girl)

#i think my period is coming #and these birth control hormones are making super emotional #sorry if this was a lot #ygmyhyk thoughts #anons 🫶🏼#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv spiderman 2099 #astv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #bd!miguel submited headcannons #bd!miguel #baby daddy!miguel

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storm-angel989 · 6 months ago

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Can I request Valentino x wife!reader where they take their 2 months old daughter to get vaccinated and Val just can’t stand to see his little princessa cry after receiving a vaccine shot

Oh my god this is the SOFTEST Valentino thing ever. I love it! Enjoy!

Valentino watched as his wife lifted the baby from the bassinet. Typically he would be right by her side, assisting wherever needed. But for the moment, he held back, baby carrier in hand as he watched his reader, his wife, snuggle the baby to her chest. It didn’t matter that neither of them had slept a full night in two months, or that they only showered that morning by the grace of Vox’s canceled meeting. He wouldn’t trade the sight of her holding their daughter for the world.

He set the carrier down and stepped forward. He carefully took the baby from her, leaning over and placing her into the protective seat with careful hands. The infant blinked up at him with the same blue eyes as his wife and cooed.

“That’s right niñita, Daddy’s here,” he said softly as he lifted the entire carrier up. “We’re taking a trip downstairs, okay bebita?” He lifted up the entire carrier, leaned over and kissed his wife on the cheek as they stepped into the elevator.

Doctors appointments for any other infant in the world would involve a trip in the car, a potential rescheduling of naptime, and ensuring everything the child could possibly need when leaving their home was carefully packed in case of emergency. But for Valentino’s daughter, the trip simply involved a baby carrier, a diaper bag, short elevator ride and perhaps most importantly, her father ensuring his studio was absolutely empty.

Admittedly, never did he think he would be using the high tech nurses office he installed in the studio for anything more than medical fetish pornography, or the occasional employee with sex toy induced emergency, let alone his daughter's eight week old check up. But the convenience of having a pediatrician work around their schedule, and having access to everything in house couldn’t be ignored. And for Valentino, clearing the studio was less of a feat than taking a trip outside of the V tower.

As soon as the elevator door opened, they stepped out and carried the infant down the hallway and into the office. Upon arrival, his wife immediately began the discussion with the doctor. He left her to it as he lifted the baby from the carrier and held her to him.

“Are we in a new place, muñeca? What do you see?” He asked as he gently cradled her so that she could see the entire room. “I see two blue chairs, and one green table, and a silver container full of white cotton balls and…”

“Val? Bring her back over, doc is ready,” his wife interrupted his conversation with their daughter.

Begrudgingly, Valentino walked back to where they stood and handed the baby over to the doctor. He watched her carefully as the doctor weighed her, listened to her insides, and examined her thoroughly to be sure she was okay. As soon as she was finished, Valentino picked his baby girl back up and held her back to his chest protectively.

“Everything looks great,” the doctor said cheerfully. “She’s due for her two month vaccinations- three shots and then I’ll see you again in a month.”

Valentino gritted his teeth. “Shots?”

Reader nudged him, “Val, we talked about this.”

As someone who had given and received more needles than most, Valentino knew first hand the pain they caused. And that was the last thing he ever wanted his sweetheart to experience.

“Are they really necessary?” He asked uneasily. “She’ll cry and…”

“And you can pick her up and cuddle her until she settles and then we’ll go home,” his wife interrupted calmly. “You and I both did the research. We talked to how many doctors? We both decided this was the best course of action for her.”

Hesitantly, Valentino handed her back over to the doctor. As soon as she left the warmth of his arms, her cries began. His wife tucked her arm into his and laid her head on his shoulder. Valentino laid a comforting arm on his wife and grimaced at the sound of her cries.

Valentino knew it was the best choice for her.

Valentino knew the shots would protect her in ways he couldn’t.

Valentino knew that they had done everything possible to make sure this was the best decision for their daughter.

But the facts didn’t make his heart hurt for her any less. Nor did it make the innate instinct to take his child and get her as far away from the source of the pain any less powerful. As soon as the last bandaid was put on, he swept his daughter up in his arms and gently rocked her. His wife turned to the doctor to review the follow up procedures as he comforted the screaming child.

“Shush, Princessa. Daddy is here. It’s okay. I know it hurts,” he muttered. “I’m sorry little one, I promise it was for your own safety. I know, I’m sorry it hurt.”

“She’s probably hungry too, Val,” Reader said softly as he tried desperately to soothe his daughter. “Let’s pop over into your office and I’ll nurse her before we go back upstairs.”

He looked at the clock. She had a point, it was almost her lunch time. Or was it snack time? It didn’t really matter either way- she ate almost every two hours. He passed his daughter back to his wife and picked up the empty baby carrier, along with the diaper back. Together they left the nurses office, and made their way back towards the elevator. He let them into his work office and reader took her usual place on the couch as Valentino locked the door.

He sat next to his wife as she nursed their daughter. He put his arm around her and gave reader a soft kiss on the top of her head. There was something primal, something pure and so incredibly beautiful about seeing his wife feed his daughter. Bottle or breast didn’t matter to him- it was the early mornings, late nights and sheer dedication to this tiny little baby. No matter how exhausted she was, she always put their child first. Something Valentino recognized and did everything in his power to only take care of their baby, but to encourage his wife to take care of herself.

“Here, I’ll burp her,” Valentino said when she was finished.

Reader handed her over to him and he held her upright against him. He pulled the cloth out of the diaper back and draped it over his shoulder before he positioned her so her head rested against the cloth. Carefully, he stood up as he patted her back. He walked around the room as he thumped her back firmly.

“You’re pretty good at this you know,” Reader’s voice came from behind him. He felt her lift the dry corner of the cloth and out of the corner of his eye, saw her wipe the little girl’s mouth. “Spit up should bother you more than it does.”

“Babies are pretty much just more delicate versions of inebriated adults,” he replied as she took the infant from him. With his now free hand, he lifted the diaper bag up and slung it over his shoulder. “They eat, they sleep, they cry, they throw up, and then they sleep again. It’s basically the same thing.”

Reader laughed as she settled the baby back into the carrier. “You have a point. What do you say we get this little one down for a nap and then…” she paused and let out a grin. “Have some alone time?”

Valentino pushed open the door, “only if by alone time you mean sleep.”

She laughed and walked across the dark studio to the elevator. “Of course that’s what I meant.”

#the vees #hazbin hotel #valentino x reader #hazbin fluff #the vees x reader #vox x reader #valentino #valentino x you #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino x wife #hazbin hotel valentino

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alburaqtraders · 1 year ago

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Alburaq Traders is One of the leading Exporter and Supplier of Softest Baby Diaper in Maharashtra, India. Export Quality of Baby Diaper in Maharashtra

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luminouslywriting · 6 months ago

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Previous domestic anon - I'm baaaaaack. I love, love, love your take on domestic Gale! If you have the time and inspiration, would you be interested in expanding on pregnancy/parenting/Dad Gale hcs as well? Your writing is amazing, thank you for taking the time to share it!

Ahh this is such a cute idea!! I can definitely try my hand at this haha 🥰🤍 I’m loving these asks so keep sending them in!! Admittedly, this one was slightly angsty at the beginning haha! Pregnancy thoughts below the cut!

-I think that initially before pregnancy is even a thought on the table, Gale is above all things a man who is nervous and unsure about having kids because of his own father and some of the neglect and abuse that he endured. That definitely plays a part in his insecurities and doesn’t really know what a father is supposed to be anyway—but that doesn’t mean he’s not willing to try.

-I think communication, especially where he has a hard time expressing deep feelings and emotions, is going to be a process and he is going to need you to be patient with him.

-now if things are less abstract in the sense of you already being pregnant, I think he needs to take some time to think things through and gather his thoughts and figure out how to be supportive to you while also addressing his own fears and worries.

-He definitely cries when you tell him that you’re pregnant. There’s not a lot of words beyond “I love you” but he’s still unsure about a lot of things. -But once that is out of the way, this man is the softest, sweetest, gentlest man when it comes to you being pregnant and that little baby. -I absolutely picture him as the type of guy to immediately start talking to the baby at nighttime when you’re asleep. It doubles as a coping mechanism for him and a way for him to express himself and figure out how he’s feeling.

-He has sooooo many dreams and hopes for this little baby and he’s constantly wondering about who the baby is going to look more like, what their personality will be like, if it’s a boy or a girl, or what their name will be. -He tests out names after work. When he comes home, it’s usually with a name suggestion and if either of you like it, then it goes in a jar in the kitchen for potential names to narrow down. -Absolutely a wreck at first?? Like he’s trying to figure out what brand of crib is going to be the safest and WHY are there so many different types of bottles and WHY are there so many different diapers?? -So you may need to help him calm down a little bit because it’s still very early in the pregnancy and you have lots of time before you need any of that stuff. -Gale Cleven strikes me as the type of man to dote on a pregnant wife; we’re talking neck and foot massages, holding you while you’re sleeping and trying to make sure you’re comfortable, if you’re carrying heavy things then he’s taking the load—yes this applies to groceries too. -Completely in awe of you as your body changes and adapts for the baby. He’s literally the most starry-eyed man as he watches you get ready in the morning and at nighttime. -COMPLIMENTS AND HYPES YOU UP

-Helps you with your shoes

-If you have pregnancy nausea or morning sickness, this man is PREPARED. Like, he worries at first, but then he understands and he’ll hold your hair up and rub your back and set lavender or peppermint near you while you’re resting. -He heard somewhere that music and reading to the baby to familiarize your voices is a good idea and he’s absolutely doing that in the evenings

-Loves slow dancing with you in the kitchen and discussing the baby

-Was really excited to put together the nursery

-Is literally the most patient when it comes to your mood swings or cravings. Because listen, this is the man that put up with Bucky’s delulu baseball girl dreams in the POW Camp. If he can handle that, he can handle you. Might get a bit of whiplash though haha. -Goes faithfully with you to every appointment and tries to read up as much as he can so he’s educated about what is happening to your body. -When the baby bump actually shows up, he’s SMITTEN 🤩

-Literally is the proudest man ever and immediately sent letters and pictures to the men of the Hundredth

-Bucky is the godfather, I don’t make the rules. -And labor? Listen, this man is NOT leaving your side and he’s absolutely getting as sassy with the doctor as he was when he told his copilot to sit there and take it 😌

-But the minute that baby is born? He’s the most emotional whimpering wreck of a human being who has never seen anything so perfect in his life. -Cried for an abnormally long time and was very concerned he was going to drop the baby??? Which he wasn’t, and he didn’t, but the fear was there. -And then dad Gale thoughts?? -He’s so patient and understanding and loving to his children. He loves getting to spend time with them individually. -Gale has the mentality of “we don’t negotiate with terrorists” when it comes to the kids though so that does mean a strict bedtime and some rules being adhered haha

-But the kids ADORE him

-He’s not super involved in, like, PTA or anything but he is SO supportive. Your daughter has a dance or a music recital? He’s on the front row, accompanied by you and Bucky and clapping his little heart out. Your son decides he wants to do baseball? Gale is going to grimace and ask Bucky for how to help his kid learn and get better. -He is the homework helper dad haha. -Definitely is involved in bedtime routines for the kids and making sure teeth are brushed, kids are bathed, and a story is told. -Helps with every single science fair project and the kids always win haha. -Is honestly wrapped around your children’s fingers. -He changes a little bit when the kids start to be old enough to actually have conversations with and he becomes more vocal. Because his dad never told him that he was proud of Gale, he makes a point to say how much he loves the kids and how proud he is of every little thing they do! -Gale carries pictures of the kids in his wallet and proudly brags about them when asked about his family.

-And I could keep going forever haha….but here’s a little fun with that

Some spicy thoughts below:

-The best most praising and body-worshipping pregnancy sex

-He runs warm baths to help with body aches and helps you wash up. Also really enjoys putting lotion on your belly when the stretch marks start showing up. -Is very creative with positions so you can be comfortable haha

-Maternity clothing shopping always gets a little frisky haha

-And he can’t help it, but he thinks you’re even prettier while pregnant, so he definitely has a higher sex drive to match yours. -Sneaking quickies in between the baby napping in the evening

-If you’re self conscious of your body after pregnancy, he will cure that with the best orgasms of your life

-Definitely develops a breeding kink after the first child haha

-Is still the sweetest husband ever and always takes the time in between raising the kids to let you know how much he loves you…..and then he proceeds to show you how much 🤩

#mota #mota fanfic #gale buck cleven #gale cleven #gale cleven x reader #gale cleven headcanons #masters of the air x reader #masters of the air

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starsomens · 1 year ago

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OKAY SO! I LOVED YOUR BABY FIC!!! I LOVED IT SO MUCH!!

would a part 2 be possible like in the newborn phase? Bringing them home, getting used to having a baby at home now and all?Bonus for postpartum help from Noah!

Drabble or head cannons, whatever makes you comfortable!

P.S THANK YOU FOR THIS PAGE!!!

Note: I mean it when I said Im a sucker for these, and I'm happy you enjoy yourself here! I'll make this linked to the other fic I made! So baby girl here

"I can grab her and you can get the bags," you off taking your seat belt off once you pulled into your driveway

"If you can get out of the car on your own, then yes you can get her" he knew you couldn't. So you just pouted and rolled your eyes

"Fine, fine I'll wait" you surrender

"Thank you, I'll grab her and come to get you alright?" you nod as you watch him come out of the car. You look in the backseat to see your baby girl sleeping peacefully. Noah opens the door and smiles at the small bundle

"Hey princess, we're home" he says softly as he starts to unbuckle her car seat from the car. He lifts the over to shield her from the sun and carefully lifts her out and shuts the door, he comes to the passenger side and opens the door for you. He gives you his hand and you slowly come out of the car

"Awh what a gentleman" you tease him as you as he helps you to the door. You unlock the door and walk in first as Noah comes in behind and closes the door. He helps you over to the sofa and sits down the baby carrier on the couch next to you.

“ I’m gonna go get the rest of the bags” he says, leaving you in the living room for just a moment to go and finish things up in the car. In the meantime, you look over to your tiny little bundle. You unfasten the belts and watch as her small feature stretch in a yawn, your heart aches in the best way possible. You carefully lift her out of her care seat. You watch as she does the newborn scrunch and brought her to your chest.

The front door closes and Noah goes into the kitchen. He washes his hands and comes back. He sits next to you and kisses your head.

“…it’s really starting huh?” He asks looking at the baby curled in your chest.

“Yeah it really is…now there’s 3 living here” his tattooed finger comes to gently brush her cheek

“Hey babygirl…welcome home” he smiles in the softest voice as to not startle her. She nuzzles her face into your chest as she looks back at Noah with her eyes slightly open. Her new environment bright and welcoming. Noah’s arms circle your waist coming close to you both

“Hey beautiful….look at those pretty eyes” he smiled at her

“Why don’t you hold her Noah ?” You ask lifting her off your chest

“W-wait but she’s so comfy..i-I don’t wanna bother her or-“

“Noah….hold your baby. She wants her papa to hold her” you insist trying to reassure him. He fixed his posture and opened his arms like you showed him. You gently place the baby into his arms, or hands rather since they could hold her completely and securely.

He looked at her closely and observed every feature possible. Your lips, his nose and your eyes…his favorite thing. Her beautiful, innocent eyes stare right back at his. He felt his heart leap, sink and burst all at the same Time. He brings her to close to his face and gently bumps his nose against her. A tiny gummy smirk appears on his lips that was a carbon copy of her father’s.

“Oh god” he sniffled as his voice broke a bit, he looks to you with teary eyes “Y/N….i…I love her so much” he expresses

“Awh Noah” you wipe his tears with your thumb “I love her too. And I love you”

———

“Alright sweetheart, full tummy, clean diaper, now it’s time to sleep” you talk to your baby as you finish feeding her and got her ready for bed. Noah INSISTS on having her bassinet in your room until she was old enough to be moved to her bigger crib.

You lay her down on Noah’s side of the bed instead of yours. He wanted you to rest as much as you could. If she woke up at night he’d calm her down or she had to eat he’d just hand her over. He wanted to be absolutely hands on and there every second he could.

As you both lay down for the night. Noah smiles at the tiny being sleeping soundly and smiled. He turns to you and brings you to his chest.

“Thank you for this Y/N. I know it wasn’t easy but I’m so happy we could have our family together”

“I am too. It just….feels so right. Goodnight moonlight” you whisper

“Goodnight sunshine” with one final kiss you drift off into sleep.

About 3 hours later, your baby wakes up with a sharp cry waking you both. Noah turns over and takes your baby, making sure nothing was wrong.

“Is she okay?” You ask rubbing your eyes

“Just fine. I think she just needs a diaper change. I got it” he whispered taking her to the changing table and putting her in a clean one. You stayed in bed with your eyes close but not rlly asleep. Your eyelids too heavy to stay open. You felt Noah’s weight in the bed again but he doesn’t lay down.

You crack your eye open to see him rocking Y/D/N and quietly humming to her. Knowing it would put her right to sleep. She always loved her father’s voice, even when you were pregnant. You smile and close your eyes once again knowing how loved and cared for your baby was.

———

The next morning was fairly peaceful. You had tried getting up to go and use the bathroom, but the labor did take a toll on you. You shook Noah awake and had asked him to help you with the bathroom.

“I’m sorry for waking you up” you apologize as he helps you to stand slowly

“Don’t be sorry, this is the least I can do for you.” He said giving your forehead a kiss. He helps you to the bathroom, prepares your pad, and wash bottle. He really paid attention and asked questions at the hospital making sure he knew how to care for you both while you recovered. So if he had to help you walk places. Anywhere. Needed help in the bathroom? He’ll grab your little care box. Need a nap or two? He’s got the baby strapped to him already.

He knew what you went through, and this was just the bare minimum he could do. Knowing he could do so much more but for now he’ll stick to what you ask for help with. After your done in the bathroom. You both brush your teeth and go down stares to make coffee. You take the baby monitor with you just to be sure. Once she was awake you both went upstairs to get her and get her ready for the day.

“GoodMorning my love” you say softly lifting her from her bassinet. She makes small puckering noises, knowing it was just about time to feed her. You both walk to her nursery and you sat down to feed her. While you fed her Noah looked through the closet and pulled out some outfits for her

“What about this one?”

“Mmm maybe something a lil warmer since it’s getting chilly out

“Good point, oh here we go! Nice and cozy! And cute, since you know, daddy picked it for her. He smiles

After feeding Noah took a spin at dressing Her. His large hands trying to keep the turnt buttons under control. After a few misplaced buttons, and tummy kisses she was dressed and fed! Ready for the day! Noah takes her in his hands and follows you out to the kitchen again. He rocked her while on FaceTime with the boys

“Look at you, a natural huh?” Jolly smiled at the scene “who would have thought Noah would have a kid first? This is the same person singing dethrone on stage” he jokes

“Ha ha very funny, but anyway look at how cute my little girl is” he said bringing her closer to the camera

“Well she definitely has your sleeping face that’s for sure” Nick chuckled

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked

“Oh nothing nothing. So you said next month would be good?” Nick asked

“Yup, 30 days with just us and the baby and you guys are more than welcome to come” he confirmed. He wanted her to be settled in a routine and environment before anyone came over. Even though the boys had visited the hospital to see you both, seeing her at home would be so much better. “Just make sure, no cologne, wash your hands, don’t get sick, wear soft clothes-“

Yes Noah was very protective of her an wanted things to go absolutely right.

“Noah I think they know what to do” you chuckle parring his back and waving to the guys on screen

“How are you feeling Y/N? Can you walk?” Folio asked

“Eh barely but I can move so I’m doing good” you try and be honest

“Good, I’ll make sure to remind Noah to get you your favorite foods” jolly pointed at Noah making him accountable

“Hey, last time I checked, I put her” he said pointed at the baby and then to her “in her! I can take care of both my girls juuust fine”

It seemed as if the conversation had put her right to sleep. Noah ends the call with congratulations and best wishes and goes to set her down in the rocker while you both had breakfast.

“It’s only the first day and it feels like….forever ago” you admit keeping an eye on the rocker

“I know,” Noah agreed “it’s like you told me you were pregnant last week and now that pregnancy is sleeping right in front of us.” He admits

“…you’re ans amazing father you know that?” You compliment him

“Well of course I am” he said more in a joking tone

“No I’m very serious Noah” you repeat “ you’ve been helping me postpartum, you’ve been an attentive fathers. You’re gentle and patient…..I don’t deserve you” you pour coming around to give him a hug and a kiss

He shakes his head “I’m the one who’s lucky. I have a beautiful wife and beautiful daughter. I’m not letting that go so easily. I want to take care of you both, you’re both my entire world.” He said being you into a hug “you know I’d burn the world down for you and her” he whispered against your skin

“And I’d burn it for you….ans her” you whisper back. His eyes meet yours.

“I love you” he says coming in for a kiss. It was slow, deep and gentle and loving. The kind of kiss to slow down time, to leave you dazed, the type where he pours out all his heart to you. After you pull away your rest your forehead against his and whisper

“I love you too”

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