First Steps into Fatherhood
synopsis: Following the birth of your child, your husband takes his role as a father very seriously. Little shorts during the first year of your child’s life
☆content: third years x wife!reader, fluff, all of them are such sweet and patient husbands and doting fathers
Continuation of Bun in the Oven
Master list — here w/c —4.9k (average 620 each)
a/n: small side note, I tried to come up with names for the children that kind of fit the vibe/aesthetic of their father's but feel free to substitute with your own names. All physical descriptions of the kids are left vague
cater diamond
Felix Diamond, born July, 7 Name Meaning: Happy, Luck, Fortune
Your son is a happy baby that has the same energy and playfulness as his father. Felix is not much of a crier, making him an easy baby, but the teething stage was hell, because of how often he wants to put a phone in his mouth
Cater documents literally everything. From the day Felix was born, he has taken so many pictures and videos. Anything he posts on Magicam about Felix is on a private page, but most of the photos he has are going into a scrapbook he's been working on since your pregnancy
"Felix! Over here! Look at the camera!" Cater says, trying to angle the phone in a way that would catch his son and the perfect view of his Birthday Boy T-shirt. Of course, Felix is not paying attention, looking off to the side or at you. "No. Felix. This way. Come on. Look at daddy."
The next photo he catches, Felix is blinking. And the one after that, he’s mid-sneeze.
"Cater, don't worry," you laugh. "Every other adult here will be taking pictures. Someone will catch one of him looking."
Cater sighs, but then smiles. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
It was Felix's first birthday. You decided to throw a small party to celebrate, inviting Cater's family, Trey, Riddle, Ace, and Deuce. Between Ace and Deuce and Cater's sisters, Felix would have more presents than he could fathom opening. Not to mention, they continued to argue over who was Felix's favorite uncle/aunt. (It was in fact Riddle)
You don't think your son quite understood why everyone was fussing over him. It was common for your friends and family to be over as everyone was quite active in his life, so to him, it was probably just another day to him. He was honestly more enamored with all the dinosaur themed decorations as it was his current hyper fixation.
"Why don't we go ahead and sing happy birthday and have him eat his cake?" You suggest. You could honestly tell that Felix starting to grow sleepy from the way he was rubbing his eyes. "I think we don't have much longer before the birthday boy will need a nap."
Felix didn't have sweets often either. so when he was given the smash cake Trey had graciously made for the party, he only continued to pick at the red and white frosting.
"It's your birthday cake, Felix," you say, squatting beside his high chair.
"Ake?" Felix repeats.
"Yes. You're supposed to eat it. See." You dip your finger into the frosting and bring it to your mouth to taste. Felix's head tilts, thinking, before he dips his own finger into the frosting to mimic you. Instead of eating it however, he holds his finger out to you. "No," you laugh. "You eat it."
"Like this, bud." Cater guides Felix's frosting-covered hand to his own mouth. Felix's eyes widen. Every adult begins to laugh when the one-year old begins clawing at the cake and trying to shove handfuls into his mouth. He makes a mess, dropping crumbs on to the floor, smearing icing around his mouth, and somehow, some of it ends up on his forehead and in his hair.
"Ake?" Felix asks, holding a crumbly handful out to you and Cater. Thankfully, there were cupcakes for the adults, so no one had to worry about slobber with their chocolate, but it was still sweet he was trying to share.
"No worries, buddy," Cater chuckles, ruffling the boy's hair. "That's all for you."
You kiss your son's chubby cheek as he shoves more cake into his mouth. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."
trey clover
Hazel Clover, born March 21 Name Meaning: Hazelnut tree, brownish-green color
Trey calls his daughter his "lucky clover." She has him wrapped around her finger, and you playfully warn Trey that his caving to her every whim will get him in trouble when she's older. He hates when she cries, even if its something simple as wanting to eat, because it hurts his heart to see her upset
Hazel sometimes thinks she's bigger than she actually is. As she nears one, she enters the phase of wanting to always help. She helps pick up her toys. She helps mommy pick up clothes. She wants to help daddy in the kitchen.
On days when business is slow, you like to bring Hazel by the Clover bakery.
It not only gives you the chance a few minutes to breathe, but it also allows your daughter to see her grandparents, whom are always eager to take her. Hazel is also quite known among the regulars, and a lot of the elderly patrons love to see her. Your mother-in-law always jokingly says that her granddaughter boosts business.
But, pretty much everyone else is irrelevant the moment Hazel spots Trey.
"Oh look. Her favorite person is here," Trey's mother teases, her jesting further solidified when Hazel stretches her arms out to be held by Trey instead. "I'm going to pretend that I'm not offended that you prefer my son over me."
"Trust me, she treats me the same," you laugh. Trey bends down to quickly kiss you before taking his daughter from his mother.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” Trey smiles when Hazel tries to grab at his glasses. He gently stops her hand, and she giggles when he kisses her little knuckles. “I thought you two were running errands today?” Trey asks you.
“We were, but your mother offered to watch her instead, so I could actually get my shopping done in peace,” you explain. “Her timing couldn’t have been better though, because Hazel wouldn’t go down for a nap today, and you know how fussy she gets when she’s tired.”
Hazel's bubbly giggles fill your ears as Trey tickles her. "Giving your momma trouble, huh, little clover?" He coos.
You smile at the sight, albeit somewhat tiredly. Your husband was always so good with her, even from her early infancy. He even limited his hours at work until Hazel was about four months old, and while you assured him that you would be fine if he went back full time, you would be lying if you said that there weren't times you were a bit overwhelmed.
"I hate to trouble her," you begin nervously, "but do you think your mom can be persuaded to keep her overnight? Just for the night! I'll pick her up first thing in the morning, but if it's a problem, then it's no big deal and--"
"Sweetheart," Trey interrupts. "I'm sure my parents would be happy to babysit. You never ask them for anything, so I'm sure they won't mind."
“A-are you sure?”
Trey reaches into his pocket for his wallet and hands you his debit card. "I'll go talk to her. Go run your errands and do something nice for yourself while you're out."
You take the card hesitantly, trying to downplay your budding excitement. "Really?"
Trey nods, his expression softening. "I'll make reservations somewhere for us to do dinner. Just the two of us. I think a break will do us well." He knew his mother wouldn't mind, truly, but seeing the smile on your face when you eagerly ran out the bakery was worth it.
leona kingscholar
Amara Kingscholar, born August 1 Name Meaning: Grace, Elegance, Strength in Igbo language
Your daughter is a daddy's girl through and through. It's a running joke in the family that Leona is her favorite person in the entire world. She doesn't necessarily cry if someone else holds her, but she is watching to make sure that Leona doesn't leave the room
Leona denies it all the time, but Amara has him wrapped around his finger. He always calls her "princess" or "runt." There's no doubt that he would go to extreme lengths for his daughter, and is extremely protective over her.
When you went to Amara's nursery to get her from her nap, you tried not to be surprised when you found her crib empty. Now, if this had happened when she was a newborn, then yes, the whole palace would be on lockdown. But now, you were so used to it that it was almost amusing to you.
You walk to the window, pulling the curtains back. Amara’s nursery was just across the hall from you and your husband’s room, but because it faced the opposite side of the palace, her room had an overview of the gardens. A broom lolls leisurely past, weaving through the maze of flowers as if taking a mere stroll.
“Leona Kingscholar!” You shout. “You better not drop our daughter!”
Leona’s ears twitched, annoyed by your yelling. He wasn’t that far away or that high up. And he was the captain of Night Raven’s magicalshift team during his school years for a reason. You seriously worried too much. Especially because Amara was clearly enjoying the ride.
Amara was cradled in his arms. Well, more like Leona confidently carried her with only one arm as he controlled the broom with that cool nonchalance of his. What really concerned you was the lack of harness or anything to keep her secured to Leona, but your young daughter only happily clapped her hands as the wind tickled her cheeks and ruffled the tiny curls on her head.
"Your mother worries too much, doesn't she?" Leona asks Amara, who merely smiles back at him with a mostly toothy grin. One of her canines was beginning to poke through. He holds her close, guiding the broom a bit higher over the garden of sunflowers. Amara squeals excitedly. "See. A little height never scared you anyway, now did it?"
It was a weekly, if not daily occurrence that Leona took his daughter flying. He started it actually as a way to settle Amara when she grew fussy. One evening when she was only a few weeks old, she oddly refused to go to bed. You were beyond exhausted after having tried everything to get her to go to sleep, so Leona told you to go lie down while he handled it.
He decided to try taking Amara outside for some fresh air. When that still didn't work, he figured maybe she'd like taking to the skies, and found one of his old brooms amongst his magicalshift equipment. Although Amara never fell back asleep, her large doe eyes remained transfixed on her surroundings in clear awe.
It quickly became a habit, and something that Leona honestly looked forward to doing when he was finished with his work for the day.
Babbling something incomprehensible, Amara tried to wiggle out of Leona's hold so that she could lean forward to touch the flowers when they flew by. You think your heart nearly stops when Leona swoops her to his other arm and tosses her into the air.
"LEONA!"
“She’s fine!” Leona shouts back, a cheeky grin spreading across his face when a giggling Amara lands safely in his hands. He kisses the tip of her nose before smiling back at you. “Ain’t nothing gonna happen to her while I’m around.”
vil schoenheit
Violetta Schoenheit, born May 8 Name Meaning: derived from the word viola, the violet flower symbolizing modesty, faithfulness, and beauty
From such a young age, Violetta had such a strong personality. Even as a baby, she was sassy. As she got older, if she didn't like something or want it, she'd turn her nose up at it. You blame Vil for her stubborn streak. She quite literally is his mini me
Vil opposed letting his daughter be a part of any form of entertainment. He was a child actor and knowing how hard it was growing up, he did not want his daughter involved in the industry. If she expresses interest when she's older, he'd happily support. But he wants her to enjoy her youth, and he even takes time off working to be a part of her early milestones
"No, Vi, we don't touch that," you lightly scold, moving your daughter away from the outlet she for some reason had a strange fascination with. Your daughter let out a pouty huff, like she was mad that you were simply trying to prevent her from being electrocuted. It almost made you laugh, because it was eerily similar to an expression Vil has made on more than one occasion.
“Here. You can play with this,” you say. You try to hand her her toy mirror that crinkled and made noise when squeezed. Vi was always fascinated with her own reflection, and that seemed to divert her attention from the outlet. (For now).
The front door lock then clicks open. “Hey, I’m home,” Vil announces as he enters the apartment, his tie loosened and blazer across his arm.
Smiling, you quickly stand to go greet him at the door. “Welcome back!” You kiss him then take his jacket. “How was your day?”
“Long,” Vil sighs tiredly.
Now that Violetta was nearing a year old, he decided to slowly start returning to acting. But Vil wasn’t ready to be completely booked up yet, still wanting to be available for his daughter and you if need be. The day had been full of meetings regarding his upcoming schedule and which roles had lower time commitments. And most importantly, he didn’t want any roles that required additional traveling.
“I’ll tell you about it later.” Vil’s expression softened. “How are my favorite girls?”
“Oh you know,” you laugh, “Vi is so full of personality. Just earlier she was—“
When you turn to where you had left your daughter by the coffee table and her play mat, you freeze. Beside you, Vil stiffens, his breath hitching.
Violetta was holding on to the table, standing on wobbly legs.
“When did she learn—?” Vil gapes.
“I-I don’t know. She hadn’t done that all day and—oh my gosh—“
Your daughter takes an unsteady step towards you and Vil. She hesitates to completely let go of the table, one arm outstretched for balance.
“Come on, Vi, you can do it!” Vil drops to one knee, extending a hand out to try and coax his daughter towards you both. Violetta reaches out for him. “That’s it! Come to mommy and daddy. You got it.”
You’re holding your breath, before having half a mind to quickly whip out your phone to record her as she toddles over to Vil, only nearly falling over once. When she stumbles into Vil’s awaiting arms, she bursts into cheerful giggles and the two of you shower her with praises.
Immense pride fills Vil’s chest with a fluttering happiness he can’t fully describe. He also feels, relieved. If he had only been home just an hour later, he would’ve missed the moment entirely. From the day she was born, Vil had made a promise to be present for everyone one of his daughter’s achievements, big or small.
And it was a promise he fully intended to keep.
rook hunt
Adrian Hunt, born November 29 Name Meaning: person from Hadria, dark one
As a baby, Adrian was quiet but observant. He never fussed much or really even played with toys for that matter. Often times, he just likes to look out the window, which gave Rook the idea of taking his son outside for walks. And how your son absolutely loves going outdoors.
Rook endearingly calls his son, Mon petit observateur. Although he is much calmer than him, it seems like Adrian has also taken an appreciation and fascination with beautiful things. However, Adrian kind of has a bad habit of staring blankly at things he finds interesting. Poor Epel thought the baby had a problem with him.
It seems like fatherhood comes so easily to Rook.
Bath time is always a breeze and mess free. Never has he had to fumble or struggle to set up and take down the stroller. And it's almost as if he has the magic touch to put down Adrian for a nap hassle free.
While you're immensely grateful to have such a doting husband who goes the extra mile for the baby while you're postpartum, you can't help at times feel frustrated. Of course, if you want to sit with your son, Rook by no means keeps him from you, but he hardly lets you lift a finger as you recover from giving birth.
He's running all the errands, keeping up with the house chores, and taking care of the baby. And you begin to feel as if you're just sitting around, taking up space, not contributing. Like you're not fulfilling your role as a mother properly.
"Mon amour, what shall we do for dinner tonight?" Rook cheerfully asks, entering the living room where you finished nursing Adrian. "Would you like to go out to eat? Or perhaps I can make something?"
"Actually Rook...could I cook tonight instead?" You ask hopefully.
Your husband's head tilts in seeming confusion. "But of course, if that is what you wish, but wouldn't you prefer to relax?"
"That's the thing. I appreciate all your help, truly, but I'm tired of relaxing." You place your son into his playpen. He coos up at you, putting his hand in his mouth, making you smile. "I don't feel like I'm being particularly useful at the moment, and when I do do something, it already comes so naturally to you that I feel like there's no point of me even being present..."
"Oh, non, mon amour. Please don't think such a thing about yourself!" Rook crosses the room in two quick strides, taking your hands into his. "I truly apologize if I've been overstepping as it was not my intent. Given that your birth was not the easiest, I would be doing a disservice as your husband if I did not allow you to adequately recover."
"I know..." You mumble. "I guess I just feel bad, because I got it in my head that I should be doing more or else I'm a bad mother."
"You are farthest from such a notion, so please get the thought out of your mind." Rook brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss against them. "I'm only able to be the father I am, because I have you by my side as my wife and the mother of our son. We are a team, and I need you as much as our petit Adrian. Okay?"
You exhale a relieved sigh. "Okay. Thank you, Rook."
Rook flashes you a charming smile. "Non, thank you for all that you do." At that, Adrian babbles something that sounds somewhat akin to agreement, making you and Rook laugh. "And it seems like our petit observateur feels the same."
idia shroud
Caelum Shroud, born August 14 Name Meaning: Heaven, sky
Caelum is a mamas boy to a T. Poor Idia doesn't know what to do, because if you so much as leave the room, the boy will cry. It lowkey starts to offend him how much Caelum prefers you over him. But just like his father, his son is pretty shy around strangers.
Caelum really loves Uncle Ortho, and perhaps its partially because they share the same birthday and that he's fascinated with the technology. He's a curious kid, and once Idia realizes Caelum starts to take an interest in his computers, he begins talking to him as if he's a STYX employee
Idia heaved a sigh of relief when Caelum finally fell asleep.
You went out to run a few errands while Caelum was down for his nap, thinking that you’d be quick enough to return before he woke up. Of course, that wasn’t the case and Idia hardly knew what to do to settle his melt down. Not to mention, the baby had been teething lately and was more fussier than usual as his teeth were starting to come in.
Somehow though, Idia managed to soothe his son without crying himself (thank you white noise machine).
“I’m never ever going to forget giving my mother or my wife something for Mother’s Day,” Idia mumbled. “They both must have superpowers.” He collapsed in his gaming chair, suddenly exhausted himself. On the bed, Caelum slept soundly, softly sucking on his pacifier. For just a few moments, Idia watched him.
It almost didn’t feel real at times—still didn’t nearly five months later—that he was a father. Some days, Idia felt a sense of imposter syndrome. How did someone like him end up so lucky to have a wife that loved him and a literal family of his own? He wasn’t in some video game or false reality? Was he truly even deserving of it all?
On his desk, his phone lights up with a message from you saying that you’ll be home in half an hour.
At that moment, Caelum’s face scrunched up. Idia tensed as the boy began to wail once more. “Oh no. No. No. Please don’t cry.” He picks Caelum up, trying to cradle him the way you do while giving him back his pacifier. Caelum won’t take it.
“Caelum, please,” Idia sighs. “I’m trying my best here.”
As his son’s cries grow louder and his own anxiety spikes, he tries to recall if there’s anything you ever said or done. One memories quickly comes to mind. “I realize that sometimes, he just wants to be held,” you had said, holding Caelum against your chest. “Some people have mixed opinions about holding the baby too much, but I’m not going to let him cry if all he wants is me.”
Sitting back down in his chair, Idia unzipped his hoodie to allow Caelum to lay more comfortably against his chest. Caelum continued to fuss for a bit, but his whimpers quieted down as Idia rubbed his back. It wasn't long before the infant lulled back off to sleep.
“Yes!” Idia whispered after he eventually successfully gave him back the pacifier. He exhaled a relieved sigh, before leaning back into his chair. Just for two seconds, he needed to close his eyes and take a breather.
Thirty minutes later when you came home, you’re welcomed with the adorable sight of your two favorite boys asleep, Idia still holding Caelum securely against his chest. You took a quick picture, planning to show your mother-in-law later.
lilia vanrouge
Mira Vanrouge, born December 21 Name Meaning: Admirable, peace, wonder
Lilia 2.0. From the moment she could start crawling, Mira is a terror. And she inherits her father's cuteness, making it nearly impossible to be mad at her. It also doesn't help that Lilia enables any mischievous behavior of hers. He partly gave her the name "Mira" because in his words, it's "short, cute, and deceptively innocent."
Arguably, her favorite person in the world is Silver. It's not even her parents. And Silver loves his baby sister. Lilia has been around for a long time and has seen much of the world, which he wants to one day show Mira. At the same time though, he's determined to keep her happy and protect her from the same heartbreak he went through centuries ago.
You roam the halls looking for your husband and daughter.
After dinner, you had stayed behind to clean up the kitchen while Lilia offered to run Mira a bath and get her ready for bed. However, imagine your surprise when you went to your daughter's nursery and neither her nor Lilia were present.
"I told him that we have to keep her on a routine, or else it’ll be hell when she’s older,” you grumble.
Unsurprisingly, Mira was a bit of a night owl like her father. But because of her young age, she was often fussy when she didn’t get enough sleep. And trying to soothe a cranky infant was no fun. You had been working on trying to get her to go to bed at a consistent time, but your husband wasn’t always on the same page.
Not finding them in the master bedroom, you circle back to the living room when a dim light catches your attention. Curiously, you peek through the doorframe and catch a view of the most heart warming sight.
Lilia sits in the armchair, Mira in his lap dressed in her footie pajamas. He’s got a book open between them and from the worn cover, you could only assume that it was one of the many fairy tales he’s collected over the years. His voice is calm and soothing as he reads from the worn, yellowing pages. Mira seems to be listening intently, but you note the subtle way her head nods forward occasionally, trying to fight off the sleep.
“Hmm, what ever will happen next?” Lilia muses. “Have you fallen asleep on me, little bat?” Mira rubs her eyes, stubbornly trying to stay awake. Lilia grins. “It seems not. Let us continue then, shall we? Chapter 2: out of fear of the wicked fairy’s curse, the princess was hidden away…”
It doesn’t take much longer for Mira to finally succumb to her slumber. Her eyes eventually flutter close, her breathing evening out steadily as her head lolls back against Lilia. He pauses mid page, then quietly laughs. “Looks like the bedtime story did just the trick, right dearie?”
A smile softens across your face and you enter the room. “Worked like magic, didn’t it?”
Lilia places a bookmark in between the pages before closing the book and setting it on the coffee table. He stands with Mira in his arms, cradling her close. “I’ll finish putting her to bed. You can go ahead and lay down if you would like.”
You give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Lilia.”
“You don’t need to thank me,” Lilia says with a smile. He traces gentle circles on Mira’s back, prompting her to curl up closer against him. “I’ve seen so much of this world and have so many stories I want to tell her. I just hope I can tell them all to her before my time with her comes to an end.”
malleus draconia
Aurelian Draconia, born October 31 Name Meaning: golden, gilded
Aurelian is a quiet, curious child who always seems fascinated by the most minuscule things. Malleus was the one who actually chose his name, and the elder fae were not happy he strayed away from the typical naming conventions of the Draconia family (His grandmother though loves the name and her great-grandson)
Malleus grew up lonely, and he's determined to keep his son from feeling the same way. He's always actively present in Aurelian's life, and doesn't plan to hold him to the same expectations and pressures of royalty. As long as his son's happy, then that's all Malleus cares about.
Malleus couldn’t fall asleep.
He wasn’t quite sure what the source of his troubles were. Only that the hours continued to stretch into the night, the moon’s glow filtering through the curtains, and he was blankly staring up at the ceiling. Beside him, you slept soundly, likely exhausted from having to get up hours earlier to nurse Aurelian again.
Pressing a gentle kiss against your temple, Malleus quietly rose out of bed so as not to disturb you. He donned his black robe and left the room.
Perhaps it was instinct that took Malleus to Aurelian’s nursery. Although it was common for some of the servants to take care of the royal children, he himself remembers having a nursemaid, Malleus was adamantly opposed to having anyone tend to his son outside of you or himself and the occasional Lilia. He wanted to experience the full extent of fatherhood, even the less savory parts like changing diapers or waking up in the middle of the night.
And most importantly, Malleus wanted to ensure he was there for Aurelian in the way his parents unfortunately weren’t able to. Every moment was a precious memory he valued.
"How peculiar,” Malleus mused as he approached his son’s crib. Aurelian stared up at him, green eyes blinking as the mobile overhead rotated slowly. His arms were swaddled against his chest, but he didn’t appear uncomfortable or bothered by any means. “It seems you were up as well, yet you didn't cry to alert me or your mother."
When he undid the swaddle, Aurelian extended his arms in a big stretch, letting out a small yawn. Immediately after, he stuck his hand in his mouth, beginning to suck on it.
“Were you unable to sleep as well, my little prince?” Malleus asks, bending down to pick Aurelian up. He cradled the infant in his arms carefully, still always worried about potentially dropping him. “The night is still young. Why don’t we take a stroll around the gardens?”
Aurelian cooed something incoherent, which Malleus took as confirmation and smiled. The two of them left the nursery, heading outside. It was rather warm outside despite the time of year, but Malleus still kept the blanket bundled tightly around his son. As curious as ever though, Aurelian tried to peek over the fabric and take in all his surroundings.
"Your mother and I used to frequent these gardens when I was still courting her," Malleus recalls fondly. "We got quite in a bit of trouble with Lilia for being out so late, but he promised not to tell my grandmother that we were unattended after hours."
He continued to talk to his son, speaking casually about fond memories and miscellaneous stories from his youth while he leisurely strolled through the gardens. A particular statue then seems to capture Aurelian's interest, his head turning to keep up with it when Malleus walks by.
"Fascinated by the artistry of this particular gargoyle, are we?" Malleus asks, adjusting Aurelian for him to see better. "Why don't I tell you a story about it? Maybe then you'll find your way to peaceful dreams."
