Tightly swaddled into a thick blanket, a proper little bun holding her tiny body inside. He falters. Has to bite back tears from spilling like a fool in the maternity ward, not after you just cracked open your vag to push the thing— Correction, baby, out.
Plenty other women around the floor likely thrice deserving of letting out some sniffles over his grown ass. He’s a man. He’s a man. He’s a father.
When the nurse steps a millimetre closer, he thinks, by instinct, he’ll draw back. Trained like a dog to retreat at threats unless there’s a full holster at his hip, something to defend himself with. Yet, perhaps primal, he doesn’t. Just leans over enough he can look down at her. A shadow cast by his bangs hanging above her puffy, still pink face, making it, if possible, look even softer. Vulnerable. Reaches a finger, pinky, to her nose, feels her soft, whiny breath warm it. And now he’s the one trying to settle the thumping in his lungs.
Oh, the tears are surely coming without capability to stop at this point. His brows draw into creases, and his lips shake slightly. They don’t fall down (yet), maybe another primal bodily reaction to not disrupt her newborn slumber with some salty fat tears hitting her face. Lord knows that’d be annoying for anyone fresh outta comfy womb.
But his eyes uncontrollably water. His pinky brushes against the tip of her nose to cheek, back of his nail grazing tentatively over her features. He’s yet to see himself in them; she is, well, like a couple of minutes old after all. He can’t be expecting her to mirror his wrinkles and sharp jaw just yet. Keeps it laid at her cheek till he can compose himself to pull away and let the nurse do as she wills.
“She’s so soft,” he whispers to nobody, in thin air, just to himself. Before seeing you watching him, and stalking forward to unload his thoughts. “She’s so pretty, and soft.” He repeats.
“Mhm.” You lazily respond. The epidural keeping you drowsy and drunk, alongside the obvious strain of labour. “The you sorta pretty.”
“Eh.” He hums, looking back over his shoulder at the nurse handling her before back to you, “doesn’t really look like anyone right now. Just. A something.”
A bit too honest, but his brain catches up with his words shortly after. It’s an issue he’s yet to deal with in his near four decades of living, mouth's got a mind of its own. Too many indecent comments in situations they should not be uttered. Post-birth is definitely amongst them. He can confidently say he held back on popped pussy comments and jokes about plaga-birth when you were pushing, though, at least, if that’s worth anything. He thinks so, a pat on the back worthy.
You squint at him in small offence, though, thankfully, the drugs and exhaustion are enough to fade a proper response to it. “Not a thing, Leon. A baby.”
“Yeah, yeah no I didn’t mean it like that.” He placated. “Meant like, she’s real cute and soft and little and, and you know.”
You simply nod. Not bothering at this point, a hand limply lands on his cheek. The stubble pokes at your thumb warmly on him. He almost purrs against it, prior wet eyes relaxing and body unfurling from the land waves of emotions wrecking him moments ago. Calm overwhelms him at your tender touch. Which now, out of the blue, feels nearly maternal.
“Thank you.” He whispers with love-filled weight, “gave me so much to live for today.”
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I just wanted to drop by and recommend a vampire diluc fanfic I just came across, and it is one of the best fics I have ever read bar none! it’s called “for reasons wretched and divine” by @wyvernne on ao3;
their characterization and build up of the relationship between diluc and the reader/MC is just *chef’s kiss*!! it’s 60k+ words and I read it all in one sitting (about 3-4 hours) and I don’t regret a single second of it! i just knew while reading it, that it would be something you would love too! I linked it below <3
https://archiveofourown.org/works/34049263
Vampire Diluc you say ... Welllll don't mind me fufufu ❤️
