#yes i cried like an infant

[fanficsandfluff]

ted lasso headcanons/prompts, anyone?

[king0fcrows]

.

[lady-raziel]

Do you genuinely think that I am being rude to a baby. By posting on tumblr. A baby. Who is not affected nor offended by me venting my frustration at being screamed at for 9 hours by posting about it online. A baby. Who cant read or talk and therefore. Is screaming because they can’t understand language. Do you think the baby is reading this over my shoulder and is offended and therefore will cry more. Do you think my presence registers to this screaming baby at all. Do you think that this baby cares that I am having a bad time. Do you understand that I am the one screaming internally instead of expressing my frustrations aloud because I am an adult and that is what adults do to be polite. Or should the entire world cater to entitled parents who just let their baby scream for 9 hours and have people think others are not be allowed to be irritated because “well think of the baby.”

guys I’m gonna be so real I’m flying business class on an international flight for the first time in my life and there IS a crying baby right next to me I DO think this should be illegal

[hor3nee]

• Life •

Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.

CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Sukuna x Reader

AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic

   Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.

And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.

To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.

The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.

Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.

Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.

Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.

"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.

"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.

"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.

"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.

Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.

Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.

But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.

"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.

"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.

"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.

That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.

His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.

"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.

[wandurlvst]

Baby Trouble

ken sato x gn!reader one shot

notes: this is my first time publishing my writing so IM REALLY NERVOUS, but i hope you enjoy 😭 and yes i know ken calls ami for kid advice but let’s just say he called you instead 🤗

warnings: none! just wholesome fluff with slight crack tbh

ever since you could remember you’ve always wanted to raise a family. either that’d be your biological children or adoptive. i guess you could say it came from your own parents—how they were able to raise someone who isn’t themselves so well-

BZZ BZZ BZZ

a buzz pulled you from your thoughts—your phone was ringing from the other end of the couch. you placed the remote of the tv down and checked the contact. it was ken—an old friend of yours. you’ve known him since you were kids and shares many things in common. “i need to work in the morning, ken.” “i know- i know. but i need your help.”

you sighed, “and what could be so important that i’m needed this late?” “just come over.” the call ended, you looked at the black screen and decided to just visit for a minute. it can’t hurt

you exited your vehicle and ascended the stairs. you raised your fist to knock on the door. but before you could, you were pulled inside quickly. “woah!”

“took your sweet time didn’t you?” ken said in a very annoyed tone, “well it didn’t sound like an emergency.” you shrugged, “whatever just follow me.”

“what is this about ken? it’s getting late- and don’t you have a game tomorrow?” “that- that can wait.” he led you two to the giant elevator that led down to his basement. “don’t scream okay?” “what do you mean…?” once the doors opened you were met with a giant pink baby kaiju who was in a large cage. but of course your first instinct was to scream—but ken covered your mouth just before you did. “what did i just say!?” he released your face, “i can’t help it! it’s a kaiju and why is it your house in the first place?”

“you saw what happened after my first game with the giants- and the KDF wanted to take her so…” “you took her instead.” “yeah.” you approached the glass wall of the cage and the baby cried as if she was going to be hurt by you, you all covered your ears and ken jumped in front of you. “mina!” the ai surrounded the cage with images and videos of ken playing baseball—distracting the infant, “so why did you need me here again?”

he sighed, “i need help- or advice on how you raise her.” “i’ve never raised a kaiju, ken.” “i know that! i mean a kid. what would a normal baby need?”

you stepped towards the infant again now that she was distracted, “well she isn’t a normal baby. but she’d need a lot of attention at her age- you’ll need to feed her, wash her, uh- figure out the whole potty training situation, the five s’s- mina could teach you that-“ “we’ve already started.” she chimed in.

“oh and don’t get me started on the constant lack of sleep. now i know i don’t have kids of my own- but from what my parents told me i was a nightmare when i was a baby.” you were in your own world rambling on and on about baby advice—you didn’t notice ken right next to you

“how about we do that?” he commented, you were confused—naturally. “do what?” you turned to him

“raise her. together. like parents.” he noticed you staring at him and he grew nervous that his idea was ridiculous, “i mean- since you’re basically the expert i could learn along the way- i don’t want you doing all the hard work. but i understand if you’d say no- you have a lot on your plate already“

“ken.”

“yeah?”

“i’ll help you.” you smiled, “it won’t be easy but, it could be fun.” this time you calmly called to the infant. introducing yourself. the baby smiled and was entertained by you. ken smiled at the immediate bond you two had and he knew it would work

[zepskies]

This One's For You

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || Ben & daughter!OC (Lila)

Summary: Late one night, finding no other recourse, Ben sings to his infant daughter to help her sleep.

AN: Thanks to this request, this one’s set between Until Morning and Green in the BMD-verse.

Word Count: 1.2K

Song Inspo: "Hey There Delilah" by Plain White T's

Tags/Warnings: Grumpy Ben, established relationship, potential fluff overload.~

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

“Your daughter’s awake,” Ben grumbled into his pillow.

He didn’t need to have sensitive hearing to pick up on the infant’s whining in her crib.

“She’s only my daughter when she has a rough night.” You sighed and turned away from him on your side of the bed. You clutched at your pillow. “It’s your turn, pal.”

His eyes cracked open. He gave you a look of annoyance behind your back.

“I have to get up in three hours for work,” he said.

You didn’t seem to care. You were so tired, he already heard your deeper breaths in sleep. In fairness, you essentially hadn’t slept for three days now. Your daughter was a demanding little thing, with some powerful goddamn lungs.

When another insistent whine and a hiccupping cry reached his ears, Ben released a sound of frustration. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until the house was silent again, so after another beat, he finally peeled back the covers. Sliding out of bed, he padded out on bare feet down the hall to the nursery, wearing his usual pair of sweatpants.

He peered over the side of the crib and found Lila blinking up at him. Her tears clung to her lashes as she wriggled around in upset.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked, as if the baby could answer him.

He reached in with careful hands and picked her up, resting her on his chest. She sniffed and predictably latched onto his hair as she cried.

He checked her in various ways, but she didn’t smell like a full diaper (upon which, he would've handed her over to you). She seemed fine, which meant she was being finicky just for the hell of it.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Come on,” he said as he paced the room with her. “Quiet the fuck down already.”

Still, she wouldn’t stop crying. The whimpers were pitiful, but at least they weren’t ear-splitting wails this time. He just really needed her to stop so he could sleep, expeditiously.

After several minutes with no improvement, however, Ben sighed and dropped down into the rocking chair. He was coming to the end of his tether.

“All right, what’s it gonna take for you to relax?” he muttered. At this point, he wasn’t above bribery. Candy? Money? A new fucking car? Hell, he’d get her a fleet of Ferraris if it’d make her pipe down.

He held Lila in the crook of his arm and tried rocking back and forth in the chair. When that didn’t work, he tried humming a tune—something he’d heard on the radio that now wouldn’t get out of his damn head. The only reason he remembered it was because of his daughter’s name.

“Oh, it’s what you do to me, oh, it’s what you do to me,” he sang softly, deep and baritone, and a little coarse from sleep. (And possibly a little off-key.)

Lila seemed to ease up a little in response to his voice, blinking up at him with those pretty green eyes. Maybe that was the solution.

He cleared his throat in slight embarrassment. He looked in the doorway to make sure he was alone before he kept going with this.  

Okay, what’re the words to the goddamn song…

“H-Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York City?” he started, a bit unsure. The baby blinked up at him, holding a little fist in her mouth. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks while she whimpered, but she looked like she was listening, at least. 

“I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty,” Ben continued. He couldn’t help softening a bit, looking down on her. He swept a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“Yes, you do. Time Square can’t shine as bright as you…I swear it’s true.”

Tomorrow he was scheduled for another mission out of New York, with Butcher and the rest of the team. Ben didn’t know how long he’d be gone.

“Hey there, Delilah, don't you worry about the distance,” he sang, “I'm right there if you get lonely. Give this song another listen…”

He wouldn’t admit it, but it was hard to leave you and Lila. She was still so small, and he didn’t like the thought of you two being alone, even if Frank was watching out for you.

But Ben had a job to do.

“Close your eyes,” he almost whispered. “Listen to my voice, it’s my disguise. I’m by your side…”

Lila had begun to settle down. He dried her tears as he continued to rock her, continued to hum the melody of the chorus. He couldn’t remember most of the song after that, but there were a few more lines he did have rolling around in his head.

“Hey there, Delilah, here’s to you,” he sang quietly. “This one’s for you…”

 Just then, Ben thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up and found you there, leaning in the doorway. You were holding up your cell phone.

His brows knitted together in a glare.

“What the fuck’re you doing?” he said, sharp and incredulous.

“Shhh,” you reminded him, pointing at the baby. He saw your smirk below the frame of the phone.

Ben looked down and found that Lila was finally asleep. Gritting his teeth, he got up slowly. You were filming him all the while, even with your hair wild in bedhead and your pajama top hanging off your shoulder. Apparently, embarrassing him was more important than sleep.

Ben gently set her back down in the crib. Once he made sure she was safe and settled in sleep, he turned and saw that you were still filming him. He hoped you captured the deathly look of warning on his face.

You bit your lip. Without either of you saying anything, you darted off down the hall. Ben stalked after you.

“Woman, you better get the fuck back here!” he hissed in a coarse whisper. You struggled to contain your laughter.

“You’ll have to catch me first, old man,” you teased.

He chased you around the house—almost knocking over a lamp in the process—until he got ahold of you, and more importantly your phone. He grabbed it out of your hand and held you flush against him with an ironclad arm around your waist.

Ben looked down at you both in satisfaction, and a warning not to try anything else. You laughed and took his bearded face in your hands. You pulled him down to you for a placating kiss.

"You do have a nice voice," you whispered near his lips.

"Shut it. You're on thin fucking ice with me," he groused, with a shake of his head when it only reignited your inane giggling.

His lips reluctantly tugging at a smile, he silenced you with a deeper kiss.

The joke was on him though. While you were running around, you already managed to drop that video into the group chat with Hughie, Annie, and all the rest of your friends at Supe Affairs.

Come the morning, Ben was about to have a very interesting day at the office. 

AN: 😂 Did you enjoy another dose of dad!Ben in the BMD-verse? 💚

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, Ben gets his revenge in Lesson Learned:

Summary: There’s only so much teasing Ben is willing to take. He has no choice but to punish you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Lesson Learned

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

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@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

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@nancymcl @ashbatz @rizlowwritessortof @kristophalis @wonderland2022

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@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[bamfkeeper]

Red...?

RQ: 'Hello! I adored you Dad!Nightcrawler story! And wanted to know if you could make this possible headcanon since it seemed funny. So Kurt's parents are Azazel&Mystique so what if his kid gets traits/mutations from them? (Like it skipped a gen) Like red skin from Azazel or Mystiques abilities/scales. It may be humorous to see/for Kurt to handle' -@aphrodite4lover

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x F!Reader // Warnings: None I think lol.

A/N: I love this, actually. I know his parents were re-written as Mystique & Destiny, but for the sake of this, Kurt's parents are originally Azazel & Mystique. Yes ofc here's some hcs. Added a few things to make it interesting. Also I know that's a red bamf not a baby just pretend it is okay 😭

When your little one came out you were both surprised to see that they weren't blue like expected...but red.

As you held your little one, you were a bit confused, of course. You looked at the red infant, their little body soft but lacking Kurt's fuzz and instead had carefully placed soft scales. They adorned the baby's shoulders and upper arms, cheeks, a little on the forehead, down the spine and shoulder blades, and of course the thighs.

The signature spaded tail was there, and the baby did have three digits like Kurt, but nothing else resembled him at all.

You loved your baby, but you were just a little worried. Kurt wasn't sure what to think either. He knew you hadn't cheated, heavens no. Plus...mutations are random.

Azazel would have a field day if he heard that Kurt's child ended up red instead of blue. The asshole might even make a comment about mating you but...that's a whole other scenario.

The baby always favored you too, which he sort of understood since you were the mother, but your child always cried and he could never soothe them. "Ach, bitte....calm down, you have food and you are clean...why do you cry?" he tries to hard, rocking, bouncing, cradling.

He gets a little jealous when your baby calms instantly when in your arms. "They do not like me, liebling..." he frowns and pouts.

As your little baby grew, they proved themselves to be a little devil indeed. Kurt felt himself being run rampant, the toddler ran after him and Kurt could barely keep up. Your child was slippery and extremely cunning for a toddler.

Kurt tried to help them teleport, assuming your child inherited his mutant ability, but as they watched him disappear and reappear, they instead shifted from a red toddler to a blue one, taking on Kurt's appearance if he were a toddler again.

So...great. No teleporting, red skin, and his mother's ability?

He wasn't upset, just...very surprised. His shock made your baby laugh, giggling in amusement as they continued to shift into different appearances.

Not only people, but they could also shift into animals.

The baby did inherit his wall-crawling. You often found them hanging out on the ceiling, hanging from it and chasing each other around on the walls.

You felt a little insecure or worried, thinking Kurt might have some resentment towards you, even though you had zero control over the development and outcome of your child's mutation. Kurt could tell you felt bad, and he always reassured you.

"Mutations are so strange, liebe...please do not fret. I love unser Kind...they certainly were a chock when they came into the world." he teased lightly, kissing your cheek.

Your child was just as mischevious and troublesome during their teenage years. Very rebellious and the complete opposite of Kurt. It was rather entertaining, the two literally opposites in appearance and interests.

Your child took on a lot of bad habits, displaying both Mystique and Azazel's personality more than your own or Kurt's. It was hard to deal with at first, but you figured they were just trying to find themselves.

Your child struggled with identity, (take with that what you will it can be implied with whatever you like!), the shapeshifting and everything else was hard on them. Also the fact that they looked nothing like either of you made it hard. They felt like a red black sheep, and their behavior was just them trying to deal with it.

After you both sat down and spoke to them, you got to the bottom of why. It was an emotional night for you, Kurt, and your child, but it ended in tearful hugs and many 'I love you's.'

Kurt loves your child no matter what they look like and who they decide to me. They will always come home to you and Kurt.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight

Cover Image: Amazing X-Men (2014) #1

[judasofsuburbia]

“what? hello?” steve mumbled sleepily into the phone.

“i’m going insane,” eddie nearly shouts.

steve sits up in his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. “woah woah, eds, what’s goin on?”

a high pitched wail is heard in the background and eddie is immediately cooing and shushing. steve presses the phone tighter to his ear.

“eds. eds, can you hear me?”

“i’m going insane i’m going insane i’m going insane,” eddie breathes. “she won’t stop crying steve she’s been crying for two hours—fuck, three hours. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know what to do steve.”

“who’s crying?” steve asks.

“my cousin. or my niece, maybe? i don’t know how it works. my cousin’s baby is here and she won’t stop crying.”

more crying and wailing is heard. steve has to hold the phone away from his ear when eddie gets closer to her. he can hear eddie pleading with her, trying to comfort her, to no avail.

“i need help,” eddie says. “i need help, please.”

“uh, okay. okay,” steve replies as he rolls out of bed and stumbles around his room in the dark to find some pants and shoes. “i can be there in ten.”

“make it five,” eddie nearly whines, anxiety pouring through the receiver.

“got it.”

steve’s tires screech into eddie’s driveway. his trailer is the only one with the lights still on and he could hear the baby crying from outside. he’s surprised no one has called to complain to the police station. though he’s sure callahan or hopper would simply hang up.

steve barrels up the steps and opens the door to utter chaos. toys and books scatter the ground, there are blankets and bottles strewn over surfaces (some definitely knocked over and spilling onto the floor), and baby clothes and diapers in the leftover spaces. and of course, a screaming infant.

eddie pops out of his room with said infant trashing in his arms. eddie has tears streaming down his fact too and steve’s heart just cracks.

“help me,” eddie mouths.

“uh, okay, okay,” steve is wracking his brain for any tips he learned in home economics about taking care of a baby. “what have you tried? i presume she’s in a clean diaper and…” god it was hard to think with the noise screeching in his ears. “fed her?” steve asks louder.

“yes fuck, i keep changing her and trying to feed her. i read her stories and rocked her and tried to put her in her crib. she’s so upset i don’t know why,” eddie’s voice cracks on the last word and suddenly, steve’s across the room. ready to comfort him.

“give her here,” steve says.

eddie’s eyes are panicky and wide but eventually, he hands steve the child. she continues to cry and thrash in steve’s arms so it takes a second for him to hold her properly.

“what’s her name?” steve asks.

“cheyenne” eddie responds, arms wrapped around himself like a hug. his whole body is bouncing and steve feels the urge to reach out and bring him in too but the more pressing matter is currently occupying those arms.

“hi cheyenne,” steve says gently. “seems like you’re mighty upset.”

she yanks at steve’s shirt with her little baby fists, definitely grabbing some chest hair underneath and ripping it. steve winces but recovers quickly.

“would your neighbors kill me if i take her outside?”

“probably,” eddie mutters.

“i’m going to anyway.”

steve heads for the front door and eddie goes to follow him but steve holds out a patient hand. “stay here, take a breath,” steve instructs.

eddie’s eyes well up with more tears. “but what if something—“

“then we’ll do something. right now, being around her isn’t good for you. let me take a crack at this, alright?”

eddie nods solemnly and backs away so steve can open the door.

cheyenne’s cries echo out into the night sky as steve starts to pace around the porch. steve starts to feel a little scared being alone with her but he’s more scared of what the stress has done to eddie.

so he decides to do it scared.

the baby starts to have this hiccuping breaths that pull steve out of his thought spiral. steve shushes her and props her up so her head is on his shoulder. he rubs her back with his hand, which takes up her entire back, and tries to stay calm when her cries are right next to his ear.

“you like music? 'course you do, everyone does.i don’t know how many lullabies eddie knows. his taste is a little more intense,” steve says conversationally as he continues to pace. “i don’t even think i know any lullabies. um…”

cheyenne cries with new fervor right into his neck and steve just panic sings the first song that comes to mind, “shake it up is all we know. using bodies up as we go. i’m waking up a fantasy. the shades are all the colors we used to see.”

cheyenne’s cries go down a peg, still loud but less wailing and more whimpering. steve’s heart is racing as he slowly continues the song.

“broken ice still melts in the sun. and ties that are broken can be one again. we’re soul alone and soul really matters to me.”

cheyenne keeps crying but it's getting softer by the second. steve rearranges her so she's cradled in his arms. he's blown away by how small she is. how helpless. everything must be so scary for her.

“i'm out of touch,” steve sings softly. “you're out of time. but i'm out of my head when you're not around. oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh.“

cheyenne's eyes open up and they're this big beautiful brown, just like eddie's. his breath is taken away as he keeps singing weakly. he doesn't even realize that she stops crying entirely and is just blinking at him, dazed.

it takes eddie slowly opening the front door for him to recognize the silence. he sits on the couch and bounces her gently in his arms, still humming and singing the occasional "oh's". eddie very slowly and quietly sits beside him.

steve looks up at eddie who is staring at him in awe. the same beautiful brown eyes are puffy and swollen, just like cheyenne's.

“c'mon eds, sing it with me,” steve jokes quietly.

eddie shakes his head. “i can't believe she's a hall and oates fan.”

“everyone is,” steve says simply and sings, “i'm out of touch.” he gestures to eddie to continue.

“i'm out of time,” eddie sings, looking incredibly pained to do so.

“but i'm out of my head,” steve leans his ear to the side.

“when you're not around,” eddie says flat, voice raspy from his exhaustion. it makes steve's stomach flip so he returns his attention to the near asleep girl in his arms.

they keep humming until she's fully asleep. steve leans back into the couch with a long exhale, his shoulders rubbing up against eddie's.

“you're magical,” eddie whispers.

“please,” steve scoffs.

“i'm serious,” eddie replies. steve turns his head to face him and nearly chokes from how close their faces are.

”i don't know how you do it,“ eddie mumbles.

”do what?“

”make everyone around you so calm. i feel like all i can do is make everyone stressed out,” eddie laughs weakly.

steve shakes his head. ”not true. just ask buckley, i stress her out on a daily basis.“

eddie chuckles and sniffles. steve sees his lips stretch over his teeth in a smile.

”thank you for coming over. i didn't know who else to call.“

”how did you end up with your baby cousin anyway?“ steve asks.

eddie sighs, tilting his head back into the cushion. if he leaned his head closer, he'd be on steve's shoulder. steve wishes he would.

”her mom is taking a much needed vacation and i promised wayne that he didn't need to take time off work to take care of her. that was a huge mistake.“

”you did your best,“ steve argues quietly.

”maybe but it wasn't enough.“

”hey, c'mon. don't beat yourself up. you did what you could and found help when you couldn't. it's not your fault this is her only form of communication.“

eddie smiles again and yawns. ”you wouldn't happen to have this album on cassette would you?“

steve beams at him. ”in my car, actually.“

”i'm getting it.“

they put cheyenne to bed with the big bam boom album playing softly on eddie's stereo. they stare at her peaceful form snoozing away and seem to forget how she looked not even a half hour ago.

”you should get some sleep,” steve whispers, nudging eddie with his shoulder.

“you're right, you're right,” eddie sighs. he gestures that he's gonna walk steve to the door. steve grabs his keys and turns before opening the door.

“thank you again,” eddie whispers.

“anytime. hall and oates always heals,” steve smiles.

eddie rolls his eyes fondly and shoves steve's shoulder. only, his hand doesn't move away. it splays out over steve's beating heart which is rapidly picking up speed. eddie's eyes slowly drift up to catch steve's.

“i was listening to that song yesterday,” steve whispers. “over and over and over again.”

“you must really like it,“ eddie says, a little confused.

”no. i mean, i do but…“ steve whispers. ”i was listening to it because... i start to go a little insane when i'm not around you.“

eddie's brows furrow. ”w-what do you mean?“

”can't keep you out of here,“ steve explains, tapping his temple. ”i don't know what to do. this is where i need help, eds.”

eddie's lips part in a silent gasp. he takes a step closer and rubs his thumb over steve's shirt. steve's hand comes up and covers his.

“i can help,” eddie whispers, tilting his head up so their noses brush.

that's how steve and eddie share their first kiss in eddie's living room, sleep deprived and unhurried. just four lips gently sliding over one another.

when they pull away with tired smiles, eddie murmurs, “in case she wakes up, you should probably sleep over.”

(inspired by @gothbat99 's wonderful steve harrington playlist)

[henneseyhoe]

Just One More. | 2

Lewis Hamilton x BLACK!FEM!Reader

WARNINGS: short, no smut! (surprisingly), just fluffy shit for father’s day <44 😘

SUMMARY: Congratulations! You had the twins! time to deal with lewis and his new dad antics (again), but first, here’s two cute moments.

|1|2|3|4|

✮✮✮✮

“You happy now?”

You stare at your husband through tired and teary eyes, watching him cradle your daughter in his arms. You had just gone through twenty hours of labor, spending half of those hours at home and in pain and the other half in the hospital. When you got there you could barely walk, every contraction you felt striking your belly and back which made your knees weak. You swore hours earlier it was just braxton hicks, but your twins soon proved you wrong. Very, very wrong.

When you heard both their cries erupt in the room, you smiled in victory as you were finally done with the most crucial part.

“You did so good, love”

Lewis praised you with stray tears he could no longer hold in trailing down his cheeks, a sweet kiss being placed on your forehead before he did the same to the twins. The boy who was born first, with no surprise, looked exactly like Lewis. He was a spitting imagine of your other set of twins when they were babies, but that daughter of yours? All you. Exactly three minutes apart, when she arrived the nurses were starting to wonder if Lewis was in the room at all when she was conceived.

You looked at the two newborns, just as proud of your work as god himself was.

“You know, I was gonna lose it if she was a boy” You spoke while gently brushing your fingers through your son’s soft hair. Lewis chuckles and lays besides you in the hospital bed, his eyes switching attention from baby to baby, but never letting go of his babygirl. You smile and let him have his moment. You knew the hogging was mostly because of him being in shock that he actually got his girl, He’d be all over your son also come morning time.

“I’m in awe how much she looks like you. Usually they don’t look like anyone right away but wow…she’s all you, Y/N” Lewis expresses, a finger caressing her blushed cheek. You just nod in agreement, laughing at how her hair stuck up in the front like spikes while everything else laid down. Lewis was too busy gushing over both of them to point out how silly either of them looked.

✮✮✮✮

When you two took the babies home, it was hard to keep the twins away from them. Your boys were there peeking over your shoulder at every feeding, every burping, every changing, even every bath. They had started to ask when they’d be big enough to play with, a toy in both of their hands as they waited for your answer. Before you could speak, Lewis was already speaking, serving them with the facts while simultaneously burping the baby in his arms.

“They won’t be able to play with you two for a while. They’re too small right now and they don’t do much but sleep and eat”

Your boys pouted, one rolling his eyes back dramatically. “Well, that’s boring! They’re boring!” Silas, the older one huffed, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Both you and Lewis cackled, but the boys found nothing funny. “Yes, babies are boring for the first few months”

“Why’d you go and get two more then?” Silas’s face scrunched as he asked and you tried helplessly not to laugh so loud at the poor baby that the infant in your arms would jump out of her sleep.

“Yeah, Lewis…Why did we ‘get’ two more?” Egging it on, you look back at your husband for another answer, your face riddled with amusement as he completely curves the question. “Any questions other than that? Saint?”

“So they can’t throw a ball? or catch it?” Saint inquired as he went back to the previous topic, sitting next to his brother. You shake your head ‘no’ and they both sigh.

“And they can’t talk either?” Silas asks, earning another laugh from you and Lewis. You two thought the constant questions would stop at three, but your boys were a curious pair. You’d only hope the next set were a bit more tame but with how the universe humbled you the last time...

“If you hear them talking before they hit nine months then please inform daddy so he can call Guinness world records”

✮✮✮✮

💌: again, superior trope, dad!lewis for the win, muah!💋

[trendywaifus]

Okay, but what about female reader accidental pregnancy by Ruan Mei? How would she react and deal with it? That's always been a thought in my head dunno why

That’s interesting! I feel like ruan mei would be a bit taken back because she’s very well educated about the in’s and out’s of pregnancy. ruan mei made sure she was extremely careful about not getting you pregnant and it seemed like her efforts failed.

the real question is, will ruan mei accept it? yes! this is an opportunity to study and nurture human life from a baby to an adult which is something she has really never done before. although, she’s at a loss when it comes to loving it because she herself struggles with her emotions and expressing them. ruan mei knows that humans thrive and grow from love and support and yet, she can’t really give that to the child. whichhh is whyyy you’re here to help her! like always, you teach ruan mei how to hold a baby, how to tell him/her that you love him/her —how to connect with him/her. when the baby gives ruan mei a smile full of nothing but gums, she finds herself smiling back with unexpected warmth in her stiff heart.

little by little, ruan mei becomes more knowing and less ignorant towards emotions like love, anger, and sadness. she’s gaining a better grasp of humanity through her child and learns about positive and negative feedback. if her baby is happy, she’s happy. how do you make a baby happy? by playing with them, buying them toys and games to help develop important skills like problem solving and critical thinking. when the baby first cried, she was at a lost and didn’t know what to do. that’s until you picked the crying baby up in your arms, gently rocked them, and cooed. ruan mei closely observes how the baby slowly stopped crying over time and became content from your gentle comfort. the first two times the baby cried, albeit awkward, she copied the exact gesture you did and she couldn’t quite get it. so she started simply humming a tune she often plays with her ruan. and just like that, the baby calms over time and appears nearly asleep. ruan mei concludes that the baby simmers down according to the specific parent’s style of comfort. the problem was that she tried to comfort the baby your way and it didn’t recognize her as you so it continued to cry. when ruan mei began to do it her own way through humming, the infant eventually adapts and recognizes her.

ruan mei would def do operant conditioning to learn more about the child’s behavior. i feel like she’d only reach out to the genius society members she’s in contact with for tips ( which is funny cus just like her, most of the genius society members are socially awkward ) at least screwllum tries to help. herta. .☠️

lol, the baby called ruan mei their mama for the first time which was also their first word. let me tell you, ruan mei felt the happiest she’s ever been. she got so overwhelmed by the pure feeling, she cried for the first time. a tear rolling down her face as she stared down at the giggling baby in shock! such a heart warming sight to be witnessed by you!!

all in all, ruan mei reconnects with her humanity more through her child and grows wit them! i think in this case ruan mei would be the child and the baby would be her teacher without even knowing it 😭 just know the child is gonna be a momma’s boy

sorry I rambled so much! this psychological study is sponsoreddddd byyyyyyyy. @crguang !!!

[ayu-stuff]

Mr. Fluffles

"What's the matttuuuuurr, babieee?? Awwww. Don't cwyyy!!!! You need to understand you're just a wittle giwl, that's it!!! And babygirls don't have boyfriends, cutiepie!!

If you were a mature woman just like me, then you'd be able to keep dating your boyfriend, honey. You wanna know what he has told me? Come closer. Closer, I've said! Crawl to Mama. He's told me that you're just too flat-chested for him!!!! Awwwwww. When will your mosquito bites grow? Puberty did absolutely nothing for you, little girl HAHAHA. And he wants you to know too that he couldn't stand the stinky smell of your poopy diapers, above all when I made you hump him in your nursery to the rhythm of my moans. God, Daddy fingers me so well. I bet he didn't even touch you down there when you were together, did he??

I told you not to cry, or you're getting a spanking. Yes, in front of your now ex boyfriend. Whaaaat??? You don't want Mr. Fluffles to see? But I. Don't. Care. He's the one to have coped with your stupid tantrums since I became your Mommy. Your babyish drool all over him when you cried yourself to sleep was also too much for him to endure, honeybunch. He's told me he wants to find now a real woman, not a smelly, stinky, pissy, poopy, nasty wittle toddler like youu!

Look at yourself now. Sitting on the floor, all covered in tears and drool, with red cheeks and a Sofia the First bib half-covering your flat chest. Pigtails instead of any mature hairstyle. Oversized paci and oversized diapers, and a lingering smell of baby powder mixed with piss. And you think you could compete with me, squirt? You're just a delusional infant.

What now, you say? Well, Mr. Fluffles is mine now. I'm sowwwy, but you're too little to have any boyfriend. Even plushies are too mature for you!! Of course, humpy times will be much more different now. We'll tie you to your crib, looking to the hanging mobile we made out of your shredded adult panties. And you'll hump the air, with no contact whatsoever with Mr. Fluffles or any other plushy: just your messy pamper and your wiggling hips trying to feel adult for once. Exhilarating.

Whaaaat's that, honey??? I told you not to cry, squirt. OVER MY LAP. NOW."

[qprstobin]

The fact there aren't more single dad Steve fics is surprising to me. And I don't mean like, those Steddie fics where Steve is a parent to one of the Party or st. I mean like, Steve is proudly a bit of a slut and sometimes condoms break. Why are there not more fics of like 20-22yo Steve getting suddenly saddled with a child that he didn't know existed, while everyone freaks out around him about it.

Steve wanted kids yes, but in some nebulous future and now there is a tiny person with his hair and his moles that is chewing on the collar of his shirt. He is very much not ready for this responsibility but also like, he's pretty sure that specific weird clean baby smell is curing his depression. He barely sleeps anyway this is fine, this is fine.

Robin is torn between freaking out, giving him shit, making fun of him, and spoiling the shit out of this baby because this baby is part Steve!! This baby is made from her very favorite person!!! Obviously this is going to be her favorite baby! She is extremely entranced by how tiny every baby item is too. Tiny socks, tiny hats, tiny shoes! Robin is Steve's rock and also is the one most excited to help him with said baby.

Several members of the Party literally have younger siblings and yet not a single one of them know what to do with a baby. They are staring at this tiny creature that is part??? Steve??? Like it is an alien from another planet. They are getting close to being adults and have fought monsters but the first time the baby cries while they are supposed to be watching it at least one of them nearly cries too. Dustin does the 80s equivalent of overdiagnosing via WebMB instead with medical and parenting books from the library. He always think there is something wrong every time the baby coughs. Steve appreciates how enthusiastic he is about making sure the baby is okay, but does not appreciate the extra stress.

I just think we're missing out on prime fic fodder material which is that accidents happens and I want everyone to be losing their minds because somehow trying to keep an infant alive is scarier to them than fighting monsters.

[mavrintarou]

Lord Gojo Satoru [3 - end]

Thank you for hanging on Gojo's ship!

Warning: smut & fluff... daddy Gojo

Part two

.

Satoru glared at the two sleeping angelic faces beside him. His dearest Y/n slept peacefully next to the troublesome infant who had brought nothing but chaos since her unwelcome arrival.

The first night, Satoru had to stand his ground and refuse Y/n’s request to allow the infant to stay with them. Her justification was insufficient to allow him to agree, even her puppy eyes couldn’t convince him to agree.

“Ah, ‘Toru,” Y/n whimpered, legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

Satoru was close and nearly brought them to their orgasm when a high-pitched cry interrupted.

Y/n was deeply engrossed in their lovemaking and suddenly flinched, mood immediately changed in a matter of seconds as soon as she heard the baby's cries. Her attention was no longer on him as her legs unwrapped around his waist. “Satoru…” She pushed against his chest.

He groaned, in irritation, trying not to lose his momentum but unfortunately, his cock became limp. He dropped his weight onto Y/n, burying his face against her neck. “Fucken kid…”

“Satoru,” Y/n patted his shoulder, “please, let me go to her, she is probably missing her mother.”

“Yes, and it’s not you,” those words came out harsher than he meant, but it was honest. He lifts himself onto his elbow and sighs before getting off her. He slipped his flaccid cock out and rolled off of her, turning his back towards her. “Go. If you care so much about her, go.”

He heard rustling and closed his eyes tightly, expecting her to hurry towards the baby she had given all her attention to, tossing him aside like an old, used toy.

Satoru’s eyes snapped open when he felt warmth press against his back and her arm wrapping around his waist. Looking over his shoulder, he couldn’t see her face, which was buried against his back.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Sighing, Satoru rests his hand over hers, squeezing it. “I’m sorry too.”

She shook her head, “no, don’t be. You are right. I am not her mother, the maids are perfectly capable of handling her.”

Turning around, he maneuvered her into his arm and tilted her chin upward. He gazed into her lovely hazel eyes. He hopes his future children will inherit their mother’s beautiful eyes when they have their children.

“I love you,” Y/n whispers, “I am sorry if I made you feel like you don’t matter.” She understood Satoru well, knowing how effortlessly it took for him to feel like a secondary priority.

 “I’m just… not used to sharing you…” he pouted, feeling childish about his behavior. “Especially having to share you with this baby we have no idea about.”

“I understand,” she smiled pressing a kiss to his chin. “I will be more mindful and remember not to make you feel like you do not matter,” she paused, “but…” her voice choked, “you didn’t finish earlier?”

Reaching in between them, she wrapped her fist around his cock, feeling it jerk against her touch. Instantly, it became harder by the second.  

Satoru’s face scrunched up as he let out a shaky breath. He groaned, ready to burst on her hand. It didn’t help when her thumb brushed lightly over the tip, teasing him to no end.

Suddenly, he is flipped onto his back and his eyes widen when Y/n shifts until her mouth hovered over the tip of his cock. “Y/n, what –“ the rest of his sentence cut off the moment her mouth replaced her thumb. Her tongue swirled against the tip, warm and soft against the most sensitive part of him.

“If you don’t – if you don’t stop… I’ll cum in your mouth,” he uttered, shifting onto his elbows. He cannot deny that he has never wondered what her mouth would feel like and promised he would ease her into new adventures. Yet, here she was, surprising him.

Y/n licked along the length of his cock before asking, “you don’t want to?”

“I do and I don’t…”

Her head tilted and she grinned, “which one is it, Satoru?”

He pondered before saying, “your mouth… let me cum in your mouth – please…”

Y/n went to work, taking his cock into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat. She gagged but continued to please her husband and meet his needs.

“Y/n…” Satoru groaned, his hips jutting and rolling. “Please… please…”

Y/n moaned when warm and salty fluids shot down her throat. She quickly swallowed as much as she could before pulling away. His cum dribbled from the corner of her lips as some shot at her face.

Satoru was not sorry, the sight before him was erotic seeing cum splattered over his sweet wife’s face.

He pulled her on top of him and licked the streaks of cum on her cheek before flipping her beneath him. His hands were quick to push her thighs open and he pushed his semi-erect cock into her, which instantly harden.

She whimpered his name, a sound that delighted his ears.

He rocked his hips in slow and deep thrusts. Her name falls from his lips in breathless whispers, “I love you. I love you so fucken much…”

When he woke up, he was alone but had faint memories of Y/n whispering his name and telling him she would check on the baby. That must have been an hour ago.

Groaning, he rolled over to her side of the bed, pulled her pillow into his embrace, and inhaled her faint scent. She likely wasn’t aware that in such a short time, she had left her scent all over their home, providing him with comfort in every way.

.

Satoru’s expression is hard and cold as his men report to him.

“The baby is your half-sibling and birthed by the woman who was your father’s last mistress. She must have known about your execution order and hidden the baby with her sister who wanted no responsibility for the baby after using up all the funds to pay her to raise the child as well as using up the funds for the child.” He looks over at the woman kneeling before Lord Gojo, “which is why she left the baby at the entrance gate.”

“My sister was a whore, I want nothing to do with that cursed child,” the middle-aged woman spat. “Kill me, I ate and used all the money to my heart’s content, I am happy to –“

Her words were cut off as Satoru flickered the blood off his sword. “Get this body out of my sight.”

.

Watching irritatingly from the doorway, his loving wife hadn’t even acknowledged him and greeted him with sweet kisses like she normally did… before this baby came into the picture.

“What do you plan on doing with the baby?”

Satoru remained silent, whatever he wanted to do with the baby was now blocked by his wife. He knew there was no way she was going to allow him to get rid of this baby if she had a say in it.

Judging from how his wife adored this baby, he knew she deeply desired to be a mom.

He was not blind to her disappointment every month when her monthly bleed would arrive. It has been months and she hasn’t been with child even with their excessive lovemaking. Satoru doesn’t miss any opportunity to cum in her womb with hopes that his seed will plant itself.

He was a coward for avoiding the conversation, mostly because he did not want to upset her or make her feel it was her fault she couldn’t conceive fast enough.

For now, he is content with just the two of them. It wasn’t that he didn’t desire an heir, but the want of it merely stemmed from the clan leaders. He has only just reconnected again with the person he loves and would take the world down to keep her safe. He wants to just enjoy his alone time with her.

Satoru’s eyes narrowed at the happy baby, who shared identical eyes as his. This distinctive Gojo trait had always been dominant, and as far as the family record showed, no Gojo descendant had ever lacked the insignia of crystal light blue eyes.

But since this baby has come into their lives, he has noticed the change in Y/n. It was like a blessing in disguise. She adored this baby girl as if it were her own and did not care that it was neither her nor Satoru’s blood.

Y/n followed the baby’s eyes when she looked away distracted. “Satoru!” She called her husband sweetly. Standing up, without her cane, she limped at her pace towards him.

Satoru strode long strides to meet her more than halfway and wrap his arms around her. He lifts her and the baby in his arms, carrying them back to the couch. He silently scolds her for being reckless.

“Did your meeting go well?” She asked cheerfully, her face gleaming with the same joy she gave the baby. His heart eases a little, feeling loved.

“Yes,” he answered, brushing the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. He didn’t say what kind of meeting he would discuss about the culprit that left this bothersome baby in their hands.

Y/n smiled wide, “are you free to spend the rest of your day with us?”

Us? His eyes drop down at the baby who continues to stare at Satoru like he has three heads. “Yes,” he answered quietly. “I’m free now.”

“You hear that Himari? We can spend time together!”

“Hi – Himar- Himari?” Satoru stuttered, frowning at Y/n. “You named her?”

Y/n nods, “she needs a name, there was none indicated so… does it match her?” She stares at her husband with anticipation. “Should we… name her something else? I… was too excited I didn’t think to discuss it with you…”

He didn’t care what she named the baby but the fact that she named her indicated she was even more attached than he expected. Sighing deeply, Satoru shook his head. “No, the name suits her fine.” He meant that.

As if the baby felt his genuineness, she gave him a gummy smile.

.

His heart is softening at the baby and he hates it. He tried to maintain a distance with the baby but he couldn’t maintain a distance with his wife who was always with the baby.

Himari has taken a keen liking to Satoru as well. He is the first person she searches for upon waking up, crawling over to him and laying on him while cooing to herself.

The very first time she did it, Satoru froze. He was already awake and was about to move Himari over so he could pull his wife into his arms.

And if he was quick, they could make love.

Their love session has lessened as Himari slept with them. Y/n was often tired after spending all day with the baby and would fall asleep as quickly as Himari.

Carefully as ever, Satoru lifted the baby and placed her on his side of the bed. With satisfaction, Satoru was about to nuzzle against Y/n’s tits when the baby began to stir. Quickly he laid back down and closed his eyes, hoping she would go back to sleep. Just when he thought she went back to sleep, he felt something pressed against his chest. Cracking one eye, he sees the top of her head, her faint white hair.

She was laying her head on his chest, did she think he was Y/n?

Groaning silently to himself, he huffed in defeat that he wasn’t going to get to make love to his wife and threw an arm over his eyes.

“She likes you,” Y/n whispered, her arm snaking around his waist.

He moves his arm and shifts it underneath her head, pulling her close to his side. “Morning, my love.”

“Morning, my love,” she murmurs in return, pressing a kiss to his jaw and reaching over to ruffle the top of the baby’s head. “Morning ‘Mari.”

Hearing her name, Himari lifts her head and smiles at the two adults lovingly.

That’s how their mornings would begin.

But lately, Y/n has been tired, and often in a deeper slumber than usual. Looking over, Y/n was still sleeping soundlessly.

Reaching over, he ruffled the baby’s head, she immediately looked up at Satoru with wide eyes that were identical to his.

Himari cooed and smiled.

Sitting up he reached for her, holding her in front of him. “You have a bad habit of waking up way too early,” he teasingly scolded. He glances over at Y/n again seeing she hasn’t stirred yet. “Let’s let Y/n sleep longer today.”

.

Satoru’s brow furrows when his wife enters his office quietly. He is at his desk reviewing some paperwork that needs his attention. “Y/n?” He blinks, pushing the paperwork aside, and focusing on his wife. “Are you okay?”

She nods with a small smile and remains by the door.

He tilted his head, and ordered softly, “why are you standing over there? Come here.”

She makes her way over and he pulls her onto his lap. “Is Himari napping?” She nods, smiling bigger at the thought of him curious about the baby.

Y/n knows he does not want anything to do with the baby. When he finally revealed to her that Himari was his half-sibling, she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Not because she suspected that the baby could have been Satoru but that the baby was related somehow. Gojo has revealed that he was the sole last remaining Gojo descendant.

She waited for Satoru to tell her what he planned to do next with the baby but he didn’t add on.

“What is it?” He asked, noticing her pained expression.

“What will happen to her now?” Y/n asked quietly.

His brow raised, “nothing?”

She raised her brow at him, mirroring his confused look. “Nothing?”

He blinked, wondering if he could have said something to confuse her. “Nothing. Nothing won’t happen to her, why do you ask?”

“You’re not going to send her away?” Y/n clarified.

“No,” Satoru answered, “why would I, she’s a baby?”

Y/n sighed in relief, eyes closed as a hand pressed over her heart. “Oh thank God.” She opened her eyes and smiled at Satoru, “I thought – I thought you would send her away.”

Satoru wanted to, and he still does. He smiles at his wife, “I know how much it would hurt to have you two separated.” That was all he had to say for his wife to burst out in tears, thanking him for allowing the baby to stay.

“I know you aren’t exactly… fond of her but…” She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you. Thank you, Satoru, for understanding.”

“She’s with the wet nurse, who will be her primary caretaker from here on,” Y/n informed, brushing her knuckles against Satoru’s cheek. His brow knitted together in confusion so she giggled and added, “for weeks now, with the help of Sumiko and others, we have carefully chosen a maid who will take sole responsibility for ensuring Himari is raised properly.” When that didn’t seem to answer the confusion on his face, only making him frown deeper, she made it clear. “Himari will be taken care of by her wet nurse from here on, taking much if not all the responsibility away from me.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his in a quick peck, “I missed you.” He groaned and kissed her until they were breathless. “I missed everything about you. Our team time. Our walks in the garden. Our conversations.” She knew all those moments with her husband had changed since Himari’s existence.  “I miss our lovemaking, Satoru.” Her hand slips inside the layer of his outfit until her palm makes contact with his bare chest.

Her husband has not touched her or made love to her in weeks.

“Why have you not touched me, my love? Do – not desire me anymore?”

Satoru groaned and gripped her wrist, forcing her palm over his heart. “This heart, beats only for you, Y/n. You, you own me, heart, body, and soul. I am yours.” His fingers dig into her thigh, “I have not touched you because you are exhausted and I do not want to tire you anymore, nothing to do with not desiring you. I will always desire you.”

Smiling and pleased to hear his response, she leaned and pressed her lips to his ears and whispered, “then please, Satoru, please make love to me.”

Y/n was bent over his desk in a matter of seconds and he was bunching up the ends of her kimono, tugging and pulling loose her sash that held her outfit together. She let out a fit of giggles that turned into a moan when he tore her panties and the material dropped by her ankle and was instantly filled with her husband’s cock.

Satoru savored the feeling of her wrapped around his favorite part of his body before thrusting hard and deep. His grunts filled the room along with her whimpers and the screeching of the wooden desk.

Hiking a leg of Y/n, Satoru pushed it onto the desk, changing the position and feeling deeper into her pussy. “Missed you… missed you so much…” he murmurs.

They have not had a proper lovemaking that he was close to his orgasm. He maneuvered her onto her back, fitting himself where he belonged in between her legs, and slowly thrust. His hand tugged open her kimono, wanting her naked.  

His body pauses as he is distracted by the beauty of his wife. She lay naked in front of him, her breasts and perky rosy, pink nipples puckered out begging for his attention. They look slightly fuller than he remembered. His eyes drop to her pussy where they are connected as one. Widening her legs, he slowly moves his hips and groans. He felt sensitive, sensitive to her touch and his own body. “I’m going to cum…” he declares softly.

Y/n reaches for him, beckoning to hug her.  He leans over her, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck. “Me too…”

She missed her husband’s fullness inside her.

Keeping their eyes locked, Satoru rocked until Y/n came around him and he followed shortly.

Y/n gasped loudly, back arching as Satoru seed filled her womb to the brim. “Sa – Satoru!” her legs tightened at his side.

They embraced each other silently, letting their worlds sync into one, allowing it to be just of just the two of them in this moment.

Remembering she was pressed against his desk, he stood up but winced at her pussy clamping down around his sensitive cock. Slowly, he withdrew, watching his seed flow out lewdly. It dripped falling onto his foot.

His breath was finally calm and silently they just stared at each other. His eyes shifted lower, down her chest, which he recalled earlier noting they looked fuller and her nipples look darker but his eyes didn’t seem to stop and kept moving down until his breath hitched. He frowned, staring at her at her belly.

Y/n watches silently at his expression and giggles and grabs his hand, placing it on her abdomen. He may not know much about a woman’s body but he clearly recalls the softness of Y/n’s belly, yet… below his palm was firmness.

Satoru’s eyes dart between hers and where his hand rested, his voice lost.

“Feel that?” Y/n whispered, “it is our baby.” When he remained speechless, Y/n sat up. Her Kimono slips from her shoulder and pools loosely at her arms. “Are you not happy, my love?”

“Happy does not describe how I feel,” he finally answered, “are you… happy?”

Y/n nodded, tears pooling in her eyes. “I am, and I will be even more happy if you are happy.”

He nods, wiping away her tears. “I am happy, super happy. We’ll be a happy family, you, me, Himari, and our baby.”

.

Satoru loves a pregnant wife. He enjoys every second of it from watching the growth of his child in her womb to all the turmoil of a pregnant woman. All the emotional state to cravings, he made sure to be extra patient and meet her needs.

Himari no longer sleeps with them and Satoru can’t deny the emptiness he felt during the first few nights without her. Though he found some comfort in hearing that she was adjusting well to her new caretaker in the room next to theirs, it didn’t elevate the emptiness inside him. He no longer had someone disturbing his sleep in the morning and admitted his heart warmed knowing he was the first person she sought in the morning.

Now, he sought her out first thing in the morning.

If she was still sleeping, he would bring her back to their bed and place her between him and Y/n.

Without even realizing it, Satoru learned little by little with Himari’s help. He spent more time with her throughout the day, figuring out how to handle her tantrums and discovering new things together, preparing him for fatherhood.

Y/n’s heart would always nearly burst whenever she found the two of them bonding. The pregnancy emotions within her always made her cry.

They had no idea how old Himari was, only judged when she began walking that she would be about one year old.

“Good job, ‘Mari!” The adults cheered as the baby took more than four steps in total, she excitedly walked towards her favorite person, Satoru.

Y/n was close to giving birth, her feet swelled and with the weight of her belly, it was difficult for her to walk with her limp. After an incident of Y/n falling, Satoru and the family doctor restricted her from walking during the last few weeks of her pregnancy. Her strong husband carried her and had benches set up throughout the compound.

“I am fine,” Y/n assured, squeezing Satoru’s hand.

“I am not,” he answered honestly. He placed both his palms on her huge belly, huge for her petite physique. “Your belly has continued to keep getting bigger and it’s concerning me how big this baby is inside you…” he swallowed the lump in his throat.

He’s heard of women dying from childbirth and now that his wife was close to giving birth, he was terrified. Satoru has sought various midwives and doctors with many years of experience to be ready to assist when the time comes.

“’Toru,” Y/n called his name softly, “we’ll be okay.”

That eased a little bit of his anxiety.

The moment came rather sooner than later.

Satoru stood pacing outside the door, even being confined in a room down the hall, against his will. He argued that he would not go into the room she was in and could wait outside the door but when he made two attempts to fling open the door, he was ushered to a further room. He could still hear Y/n’s painful whimpers and was ready to move heaven and hell around to be at Y/n’s side.

“You can’t even do anything for her,” his best friend Geto Suguru said, pushing his friend away from the door and further into the room. “Y/n is strong, your baby is strong too, they will be fine…”

Satoru continued to pace the room, his usually neatly combed hair now disheveled and his outfit in disarray.

Both men immediately turned their heads in the same direction when they heard the wail of an infant.

Before Suguru could blink, the door was already flung open forcefully making him flinch and he was alone.

.

“I had hopes he would take after Y/n but he’s a carbon copy of his dad. How unfortunate.” Suguru teasingly looked disappointed, looking down at the tiny baby in his arms. He was surprised that Satoru didn’t shoot him a glare, his friend’s eyes and attention were solely on his wife.

“He’s going to be handsome just like his father,” Y/n smiled tiredly. “My son needs a friend, you ought to have one of your own soon too, Suguru-san.”

Satoru snorted, “I agree with my wife, it is your turn now, Suguru-san.”

Suguru smirked, “just you both wait.”

. . .

E/n: One Lord completed... now stay tuned for the next one!

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @gojoful @buttercupbitches

[daisies-daydreams]

My Wish (Papa!Gyomei Himejima Drabble)

Header Credit: Pexels & Ufotable Pairing: Gyomei Himejima x Wife!Reader Category: Fluff/Light Angst Tags: Depictions of Childbirth, Mentions of Blood, Babies, New Parenthood, Flashbacks to Infinity Castle Arc/Gyomei's Backstory, Crying, Tooth-Rotting Fluff Word Count: 1k Divider Credit: @saradika Summary: Gyomei does his best to remain strong as you give birth to his firstborn child. A/N: Hello hello lovely people! I've had this idea swimming around in my mind for a while, and I'm so happy I finally got around to it! (Gyomei would make such an amazing dad I just know it). I hope you enjoy! Pt. 2 - Late Night

Gyomei clenched his jaw as you gripped his massive hand with your sweaty palm. He tightly squeezed the string of red prayer beads that was wound in his other hand as you groaned and panted heavily.

"You're doing amazing, my love," he gently reassured you as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. You suddenly threw your head back and released a harsh cry, the midwife cooing as she held your other hand. She gasped when she peeked around the blanket obscuring the lower portion of your body.

"Just keep breathing deeply, (Y/N). I can see the baby's head crowning!" she said as a hopeful expression lit up her face. Gyomei's breath hitched at the news before you began to curse and sob. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he placed his lips against your paling knuckles.

"You’re such a strong woman, (Y/N). The strongest one I-“ his voice cut off when you nearly crushed his hand as you screamed. His frown deepened as the midwife patted your face with a wet cloth.

“I-I can’t do it!” you sobbed as your legs shook. Gyomei shook his head as he held your hand up to his cheek, your words resonating with him as he thought back to how he leaned against the wall during the battle at the Infinity Castle. How hope was but a dying flame in his heart as blood oozed from his wounds…and yet, the sound of your voice calling to him within his mind stoked the fire deep within him.

Heavy tears trailed down Gyomei’s cheeks as he could only imagine the pain you were in. He gave your hand another reassuring squeeze as he carefully leaned down and pecked your forehead.

“You can do it, (Y/N). You’re so close,” he encouraged you the same way you did when he was barely hanging on by a thread. He heard you swallow thickly before your breaths grew more quick and ragged.

“You’re almost there, Mrs. Himejima. Just a few more pushes,” the midwife coached you as she prepared to catch the baby. Gyomei held his breath as he awaited to hear the soft cries of his newborn, his heart wildly pounding against his rib cage as he bounced his leg.

You continued to grunt and grip his hand tightly as you strained on the futon. Gyomei’s head perked up when he heard you curse out one more time before the first wailing cries of your baby cascaded through the room.

He could practically feel the midwife grinning as the little one gurgled and cried, your exhausted pants filling his ears as your grip on his hand loosened.

“You did an amazing job, my love,” he cooed softly.

“Yes…now it’s time to start pushing for the other one,” the midwife said. A heavy silence lingered in the room before both you and your husband spoke.

“WHAT?!”

+++

After another hour of grunting, screaming and nearly breaking your husband’s hand, you welcomed another wailing infant into the world. Gyomei gently wiped the sweat from your exhausted features as the midwife checked and cleaned the newborns.

“You did such an incredible job, my dear,” your beloved smiled gently as he wiped your brow. You sighed and gently placed a hand over his wrist. Gyomei smiled as he set the wet rag aside and leaned down, his lips gently caressing the top of your head.

“I bet I look like a mess right now,” you chuckled tiredly. Gyomei hummed as he pulled back and shook his head.

“No, I bet you look even more beautiful than ever, my precious flower,” he sighed and cupped your cheek with his massive, warm palm. His heart fluttered as you leaned into his touch, your skin so soft and smooth against his hand. The midwife cleared her throat as she shuffled towards the other side of your bed.

“Mr. and Mrs. Himejima, meet your new baby girls,” she smiled. Gyomei’s heart lit up as he heard the shuffling of bedsheets and the soft grunts of the two small newborns. You thanked the midwife as she gently handed the cooing twins over to you. Tears welled in Gyomei’s eyes as he knelt at your bedside, his hand hesitantly hovering over you.

“What do they look like?” your husband asked as he tilted his head. He gasped as you gently took his hand and placed it over one of the girls’ heads.

“They both have your hair…and my eyes,” you replied softly. Gyomei sighed with relief as he gently brushed his thumb over the tuft of soft, dark hair on his daughter’s head. A warm, gentle smile crossed his face as he felt his little one lean into his hand.

“They seem quite big for newborns,” he chuckled softly. You giggled and shifted in bed.

“Well, considering who their papa is…” you began. Gyomei felt the tips of his ears burn as his stomach tied into a knot.

“R-Right. I’m...I'm so sorry for making you endure that,” he sighed. You cooed and shook your head.

“It’s alright, Gyo. We both couldn’t have known how big our babies would be,” you reassured him with a quiet chuckle. Gyomei returned your smile before hot tears began to roll down his cheeks. You sighed softly as he sniffed.

“I-I just never thought this day would come,” he swallowed thickly as he folded his hand over his daughter’s head, as if to shield her from the evils of the world. His breath stuttered as he carefully brought his hand over to his other newborn baby, the sound of her cooing as he gently cupped her plump cheek. “After the orphanage, I…I thought bringing children into this world was a curse,” Gyomei confessed with a heavy sigh.

His eyes widened as he felt his little one wrap her soft, tiny hand around one of his thick fingers. He sniffed, his heart melting as he smiled.

“But...I’ve never felt more blessed than I do now,” he murmured softly as his daughter held onto his large finger. His smile grew as you leaned up and pecked his cheek.

“You’re going to be a wonderful father, Gyomei,” you whispered lovingly. Your husband’s heart swelled with an overwhelming warmth as he soaked in the presence of his beloved wife and two new miracles. He smiled and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before giving one to his precious newborns as well.

“And you’re going to be the most amazing mother, my love,” he grinned.

————

Thank you for reading! ❤️

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[marigold-hills]

July 5: burnt | @jegulus-microfic | word count: 1048

It’s July now, but it’s been happening for at least three months.

Every evening at half past seven an ice cream van comes hurtling down the street, blearing out its tune. It stops on the corner. No one ever comes out to it. After five minutes of silence, it starts up again, the sound somehow even louder for the reprieve.

James Potter is sick and tired of it - because every evening at seven, five-month-old Harry falls asleep only to be woken up by the noise.

It’s been a bad week. Teething. Crying. James hadn’t had longer than forty minutes of sleep at a stretch in days and it’s starting to get to him. Every single smile Harry gives him makes it worth it, every kicked off sock makes him laugh and every little cuddle leaves him in awe – but.

(He hates the but. Hates adding it. There shouldn’t be one, he thinks, he should be endlessly grateful for every moment, take it all in stride. Because Harry – because his son - isn’t a but. Isn’t a burden.)

But.

Harry falls asleep, little arms stretched out to the sides. James puts him in the crib and the little thing turns himself onto his belly (a brand-new trick, that). Deep breathing, sleepy little sighs.

James is burning and burnt out. Eyes filled with sand. Back half numb from carrying a heavier-by-the-day infant for days with little break.

I’ll have a cup of tea, he thinks, and drink it while it’s still hot. Then sleep.

The kettle boils. James picks out his favourite tea, adds in the sugar. Just finishes pouring in the water when the music starts.

A precarious moment between sleep and waking but Harry tips into consciousness, little face scrunched up with dissatisfaction and cries mounting, building, louder by the second.

James Potter is a patient man, a kind man. But he’s had enough.

He picks up Harry, shushes him. It’s a quick thing, for him to stop crying once he’s in his daddy’s arms, but his brilliant eyes are wide open now, sleep all but forgotten.

It’s the thought of his nice hot cup of tea that does it. He’s barefoot, when he leaves the house, Harry hoisted up on one hip. Babbling happily now because it’s a great adventure, every time they leave the house.

The music stops and there it is, the thrice-blasted ice cream van. James stomps up to it in a manner certainly not dignified. There is no one at the open window.

“Excuse me?” James shouts into the interior.

A head pops up from below the counter and James thinks oh, fuck me, because:

1.        He’s ready and rearing to have a go, furious and fuelled by exhaustion, but the man is the most beautiful creature James had ever had the misfortune of seeing, and

2.        Literally just fuck me, but

3.        He has Harry on his arm and pieces of mashed up carrot in his hair, some unknown substance on his shirt, and the man is stunning, and

4.        James is just so, so tired.

“Yes?” The beautiful man asks, looking a bit confused and that’s fair enough actually because James is the first customer on that spot in the last three months.

“Err…,” he stutters, “a flake, please?”

“I don’t sell ice cream,” says the beautiful, stunned man driving an ice cream van.

James takes a look at the menu on the back wall, and on the decal on the side of the van that says a .99 flake is £2.50.

“No?”

“No,” and somehow the beautiful man is the one who sounds confused, and he won’t stop staring between James and Harry, big round eyes striking underneath black curls, “I sell drugs.”

“Huh. Like… pharmaceuticals?”

“No. Like weed.”

“Huh.”

Harry takes that as a queue to start babbling at a new person he’s never seen before and the man in the van visibly melts. “Hi there little one,” he says, and James knows he should be walking off right this fucking moment, because a self-confessed drug dealer is speaking to his son and that’s just, categorically, not on…

 But.

“Can I get some of that?” He blurts out because it’s been so long since he got high and he’s so so tired, and maybe tomorrow he’ll take his mum up on the offer to babysit, sit in his garden and just smoke.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” the beautiful man says like it’s the biggest affront and isn’t he the one selling?

”But… why?”it sounds weak and petulant even to his own ears.

Harry makes a few giggling sounds and stuffs his little fist into his mouth. James switches him onto the other hip. The man points to the baby, like it answers the question, and actually, fair enough, it does.

(His hand is also rather slender and fragile looking, and there are pretty silver rings on his fingers and James’ sleep deprived brain says bite.)

“I wasn’t… I wouldn’t…” James tries to explain himself, but it all comes out wrong and awkward. “Anyway, no,” he gathers himself and remembers he had a reason to storm out of his house and just because the man was pretty it wouldn’t change that, “you wake him up every day.”

Somehow, he manages to sound stern and he’s pretty proud of himself for that, actually.

The man’s face falls. Just… collapses. Like it’s the worst news he’s ever heard.

“I do?”

“Yeah. You come by just after his bedtime and the music is really loud, don’t know if you noticed. And it’s been months.”

It’s something akin to pure devastation that spreads through the man’s features like a sun burn. “I’m very sorry, little one,” he tells Harry, seriously. “I won’t play it anymore.”

There, job done, James thinks, and finds he doesn’t actually like that, not at all. Still, “thank you,” he tells the man because that’s what polite people do when their requests are granted, and his mum raised a polite man.

They stare at each other, him and the man, and James knows that this is when he should turn around go home, put Harry back down and then maybe have a shower, but…

“Can I have your number?”

And the most surprising thing? It’s not James who asks.

PART 2

[toms-cherry-trees]

Not Worthy Of You || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: An unexpected visitor at night brings some clarity to the last months

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: Mention of B&C and Storm's End. No beta reading

Author's note: This was supposed to be short. This was supposed to be 1k words. But I got carried away. Enjoy!

The candles had long died out, and only dying embers remained in the smouldering fireplace, too feeble to give the room any light. Piercing darkness entered through the gaps in the drapes, the moonless night shrouding the Red Keep in a thick, ponderous veil of black. Not a sound disturbed the quietness of the Holdfast, nor the peace of those sleeping in it.

You stirred in the bed, the sheets rustling and a pleasant tingle spreading through your body as you stretched your limbs lazily. You felt well rested, perhaps for the first time in many moons. It had been a long time since you last woke up naturally, instead of being forcefully taken from your slumber by aches, cramps, and most recently, little cries throughout the night. At that thought your eyebrows furrowed, and still partially asleep you rolled over in the bed, your hand searching in the darkness for the little wooden cradle by your side.

Your fingers only found emptiness, the abandoned blankets still holding your newborn’s warmth.

Whatever drowsiness lingered in your mind soon dissipated as worry crept upon you, settling like a heavy weight atop your chest. You sat upright with such haste you felt faint, having to hold onto your head until the bright lights vanished from your  vision. Fright quickly overcame your senses. You double checked the crib, pulling blankets out and looking under your bed, as if somehow the babe, barely a fortnight old, could have climbed out and hidden somewhere without you noticing. 

Desperation clouded your thoughts, your heartbeat quickening and your breath coming in shallow pants. You scrambled from bed, barely having half a mind to grab a robe; the parky night air covered your skin in gooseflesh. You headed for the door, the call for help ready to sprout from your lips, when the smallest, softest of coos drew your attention to the opposite side of the chamber. 

Now that your eyes had adjusted a bit, you could vaguely make out the shape of a person sitting in front of the large windows in a sturdy rocking chair your family had gifted you when they received the news of your impending motherhood. Slightly hunched forward, gently swaying back and forth, the rockers barely made noise against the thick carpet they laid upon. At first you believed it to be the wetnurse, who usually sat there to feed the baby, but you had specifically requested to have no servants in your chambers at night, wishing to carry the bulk of the childcare yourself. Hoping that that way you would feel more connected to your child, instead of staring at it like a foreign being that had been dropped on your lap by the Mother. Lovely, yes, and so dearly loved, but foreign nonetheless. 

Soon it became obvious, however, that it was not the wetnurse, nor a maid, the one who sat in the chair. The dark figure sat tall, shoulders muscular and long legs stretched out, rocking the chair with a lazy sway of heavy boots. Oppressive panic stole the breath from your lungs at the vision of the unknown man, his arms positioned in a way that could only mean he currently held the infant in his embrace. The memory of what had recently happened to Helaena and her sweet child remained fresh in your mind. 

You considered screaming for help, but not even a choked cry managed to come forth. Or maybe it did, and you just couldn’t hear it above the frantic hammering of your heart, rumbling in your ears like menacing war drums. Blindly you sought a weapon, any means of protection you could grasp to defend yourself and your child. Your trembling fingers gripped tightly the handle of an ornate letter opener you so happened to have left in the nightstand. You tried to swallow, but found your mouth to be as dry as the Dornish deserts. 

Your feet barely made a sound in the flagstone as you carefully approached the intruder. Your mind overflowed with horrifying images of what had occurred to sweet Helaena. Even though you had not been witness to the act, the whispers reached you nonetheless, despite the Dowager Queen having carefully instructed the servants to not mention the crime near you, for fear of upsetting your mood and spoiling your health, right in the middle of your seventh moon of pregnancy. Despite the efforts, the nightmares lasted for weeks, fuelled by the clamour of your good sister’s wails as she escaped her chambers at night and wandered the halls calling for her lost son.

Slowly, as if wading through mud, you approached the chair. But it seemed the distance lengthened with each step, or perhaps your imagination had fooled you and you remained rooted in the spot. Your brain overflowed with horrific scenarios, a million outcomes to the situation, and the hopeless need to cry out, even if your mouth refused to open. As your eyes finally adjusted to the pitch darkness, however, you noticed silvery white tresses covering the person’s shoulders, and a thin dark strap wound around the head. The arm carrying the weapon lowered slowly, and the letter opener slid from your sweaty grasp onto the floor. Although weightless, in the silence of the night, the little piece of metal resonated like thunder.

The man didn’t flinch nor move to seek the source of such scandal; his smooth voice echoed in the chamber, a careful murmur to be heard without waking the baby. 

“Abrazȳrys” 

The familiar term of endearment should have calmed your nerves, but the word spoken so abruptly made you jump in your spot, hand coming to your bosom as your heart raced, as if ready to escape from the confines of your chest and make a run to safety. 

“Seven hells, husband. You scared me half to death” You protested, pressing your cool palms against your heated cheeks and taking slow breaths. An immense wave of relief washed over you, mixed with an overpowering sense of weakness; all your energy had been consumed in the eternal moments you thought yourself and your child in danger, and now it took all you had not to collapse on your knees.

“My sincerest apologies, wife” He replied with a tone of propriety so usual in him, as if he merely apologised for bumping on you in the hallway, instead of scaring the living daylights out of you. His violet eye met yours as you moved within line of vision, taking seat in a low cushioned bench against the wall.

The bundle of blankets wrapping their firstborn appeared small and radiant against the dark planes of Aemond’s chest; the child tightly tucked in shades of green and trimmings of gold, chubby cheek snuggled against the warmth of her father’s body as she slept soundly. It amused you how easily the girl cozied up to Aemond, considering that, as far as you knew, they had not met before.

Fifteen nights and fourteen days had passed since their daughter Daenys came into their arms, letting her powerful cries be heard throughout the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast as the hour of the bat reached its peak of darkness. The child stunned those who helped bring her forth into the world, having been born with her eyes open, the right one violet like a Targaryen, and the left one with her mother’s colouring. A full head of silvery hair mixed with stray wisps of darker hues, giving her a colour no one could quite describe. 

The day of her birth, her father shone in his absence. He evaded the Holdfast as if it were a cursed place. First he escaped towards the sparring yard, demanding to be taught the usage of a bastard sword, and turning a deaf ear to Cole’s comments that he should be with his wife. When the pestering became unbearable he tried to see his sister instead, but his wife’s screams echoed through every hall, making it impossible to ignore. Defeated and overwhelmed, he turned towards his dragon, far away from everyone. The smallfolk saw the massive shadow of a winged beast soar the skies, framed by the last rays of the setting sun as if engulfed in a fireball. Sight of him was lost with nightfall, but the dragon’s cries could still be heard, hidden behind clouds. 

Aemond would have remained airborne until sunrise, had not young Daeron been sent out to pursue him and inform him that his wife had brought forth a most precious healthy girl. But not even such joyous news managed to lure the Prince back to the Red Keep. He flew again, towards unknown destination, not to be seen until the following day, well after the sun had begun its journey across the sky. Yet instead of rushing towards his family, he locked himself in the library, buried between books and scrolls until past dinner.

His attitude puzzled many around the court. Even if he perhaps found disappointment in the gender of his firstborn, his commitment to avoid his wife and child surpassed all levels of understanding; whispers began to spread of all sorts, most showing support to the beloved lady than to him. Some even said it was for the best; who would want a kinslayer to come near a newborn anyway?

No one could come even close to understand the why of his actions..

He had not been the same since Storm’s End. After his return, while his brother rejoiced and his elders frowned in worry, Aemond found himself numb, cold even, as if the icy winds and gelid rain that accompanied his flight that night had seeped into his bones. He only recalled broken fragments of what had occurred after he flew in pursuit of his nephew; the rattling of the saddle chains against the wind, Valyrian words shouted into the storm he did not remember pronouncing; a feeble, pathetic little fireball blown into Vhagar’s eyes, not doing more harm than a pebble would against the mountain. The horrific crunch of Arrax’s bones under ferocious jaws, as whatever remained of him and his rider floated down towards the restless sea.

The horrifying knowledge that his actions had caused the death of not one, but two boys.

After that, he shut himself more, if possible. He refused to see anyone, spending days and nights alone in his chambers, permitting only the presence of a servant to bring him his meals and news from the outside, isolated like a common prisoner. He abandoned his marital chamber, moving instead to the ones once meant for his wife; connected by a door he kept permanently locked and blocked. 

His mother attempted to coax him out with gentle words and his grandsire with stern reproaches. You knocked on his door at nights, softly whispering his name, almost like a plea. He saw your shadow under the door, pacing or sitting on the floor against it, waiting for something to happen, to at least receive a word of acknowledgement; but night after night your hopes crumbled into dust, and soon you gave up. There’s no helping someone who doesn’t want to be helped

Yet a flicker remained, that the ice would melt with the fire of newborn life. That the cries of their so awaited child would break the trance Aemond had submerged into and return him to his senses.

He opened his door that day, yes, but only with the intention to flee. 

And now, without warning or explanation, he showed up in the dead of the night, hidden by darkness like a lowly criminal, pushed by some unknown force to finally hold the being that had changed his status from man to father. 

You sat with your hands on your lap, patiently awaiting for an explanation. Yet Aemond didn’t move, nor spared you a second glance; his whole focus on Daenys. His eye fixed on her soft features, arms protectively around her, holding her with dexterity you did not yet possess, but he had acquired with his little brother and his niece and nephews. One arm around the body, the other under, lithe finger cradling her head and gently caressing the silvery hair. Even in the dark, you could see the enthrallment in his gaze. The fearsome warrior Prince, wrapped around Daenys’ minuscule finger

“Husband?” You called out softly, trying to attract his attention

“I heard her cry” He replied, his thumb brushing across Daenys’ cheek “Whenever she cries I hear her from my chamber. You always tend to her so quickly, almost as if you awake before she makes a sound” You blinked fast, perplexed. You never imagined he could hear from his chambers, but again, Daenys had a pair of lungs that could be heard from across the city if you wanted to. 

“But she cried and cried tonight, and nothing happened. I thought you could not settle her, but I didn’t hear your voice like when you speak or sing to her. So I came” 

You wanted to be embarrassed that he had heard that too, but instead focused more on the fact that if Aemond knew all of that, he lingered at the door whenever their daughter cried, wishing to know what was happening with her. For a moment you imagined him with his ear pressed to the wood, holding in his breath to not miss a sound.

“She kicks a lot when she cries” He commented “I thought she wanted to be fed, or was cold. But you were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you, and I-” He swallowed before continuing, His index traced the baby’s features, from the roundness of the cheeks to the sharpness of the nose, a perfect match of his own.  

“I took her in my arms and she settled. I suppose she didn’t want to be alone” 

His voice held amusement. As if he could not believe his daughter, his own blood, could find comfort in his embrace. He had expected her to kick and scream and alert the world that a monster had come for her. But she didn’t. She just snuggled close to him and drifted off to sleep, lulled by the safety of her dad’s arms.

You felt your heart ache for him, as you finally began to comprehend some things. The why of Aemond’s distance. He had killed a boy. His bastard nephew, and the object of his ire, but a boy nonetheless. Because of that, Jaehaerys had been lost. And now he feared something similar would find his girl, for it seemed that a path of tragedy and blood followed his every step and dragged those close to him into the same fate.

You stood, not without difficulty, and moved to stand behind him, one hand on his shoulder. He shifted position, holding Daenys on one arm and holding your hand with the other, thumb caressing your knuckles. They remained in silence, both staring at the fruit of their love with adoration only a first time parent can conjure.

“She’s beautiful” He whispered “Gevie hae se hūra”

You only understood ‘gevie’, and that sufficed to make you smile. You leaned down until your chin rested atop Aemond’s shoulder, cheeks pressed against each other “She’s perfect. And she looks so much like you” 

“Only the good parts” He replied, almost a bit harshly, the mere notion of his daughter resembling him setting him off. But soon he relaxed as Daenys stirred, mouth open in a quiet yawn which left her tongue trapped between her lips. 

“She will be the best of us” You commented, your arms coming under his own to hold her. To hold them both; Aemond needed your support as much as the babe did. Right there, maybe even more. 

“I will hurt her” He whispered, barely audible, his grip on Daenys tightening as he leaned down, his forehead against hers as he closed his eye. “If something bad happens to her, it will be on me”

“You would never” You rushed to reply, a coil tightening in your throat. How could Aemond think such a thing? He could never. You knew it. You knew it from the moment you saw him with the child in his arms, that he would burn down the entire country to safekeep that little girl

“Directly or indirectly, but I am dangerous for her. I’m not worthy of her” Sorrow laced his words, a sentiment foreign to your husband, who always held his emotions carefully and kept them well hidden under a mask of serene indifference. Seeing his vulnerabilities surface felt wrong, as if you had witnessed something private, a crack in the surface of an indomitable mountain. But he had no privacies with you; you were his wife, and you were meant to know him whole.

You moved to crouch before him, hands cradling his face and forcing him to meet your firm gaze “You are her father. The Gods blessed us with this gift because they deemed us worthy of her. And I know you won’t let anyone touch a single hair in her head, because they will be ash and dust before they can even get close” This time, you flattened your forehead against his, never letting go of him “You are worthy of this. Of her. You are worthy of good things” 

His eye closed and he leaned into you, your bodies together shielding Daenys, keeping her warm. You two remained there for who knows how long, in silence, holding each other again after so long apart. It was him who broke the spell, his hand coming to circle your waist

“Let’s put her to sleep” He replied in a soft whisper “And then I’d like to sleep in your bed, if my lady wife will have me tonight”

You smiled without meaning to, feeling his warmth spread over you

“Tonight and every night. All the nights you want”