#hunter junior

Hunter Junior: *lip quivering* Can we keep the nightlight on?

This is definitely Cyare clambering in to her little baby’s crib, to Hunter’s dismay.

(Cyare says, “It’s settled, then.” XD)

Mostly the videos are of their clan sowing chaos, fighting doting over baby Ashow and trying to steal him away to rock him, play with him, feed him, and just generally be all up in his business. XD

Like baby Asher is chilling on a play mat and the youngest of the Hunter Junior horde crawl over all “LOoK uP bABY,” “LoOk At mE,” even though he is a literal infant and does not possess that range of motion.

And when he older, trying to pick him up and stop him from escaping crawling away. XD

Hunter: What?! What are your demands?!!!

Cue Crosshair, trying to reel in his deer-in-the-headlights look as he looks down at the beaming toddler below. Holding out a scraggly flower between her chubby fingers and babbling something he’s too frazzled to understand. He merely took her outside to play and suddenly he’s being presented with an obscure peace offering. His pulse quickens as he sees Cyare watching him out of the corner of his eye.

—-

He had never thought about what it would be like to wake up at a different time of morning than the person sleeping next to him, either, though maybe that was due more to his strict military upbringing than anything else. Cyare liked to sleep ‘til the chrono showed 06:00; Hunter’s eyes flew open at 05:00 sharp and after that there was no chance of him dozing off again. It gave him a full hour each day to do as he pleased, which meant snuggling closer to his wife and quietly observing the way her eyelashes fluttered and her lips puffed little breaths in her sleep, the extra heartbeat she carried, the growing baby that kicked in her womb. It was a sight Hunter was sure he’d never get enough of.

Hunter traced feather-light patterns over Cyare’s cheek as he waited patiently for her breathing to shift ever-so slightly, signaling her rousing. He couldn’t help but smile when he heard that little taletelling hitch in her breath even though her eyes remained closed.

“Good morning,” Hunter rumbled knowingly.

Cyare peeled one eye open. “How d’you know,” she slurred, a sleepy smile on her face.

Hunter grinned. “Lucky guess.”

“Mm-hmm.” Cyare shifted in the bed with a little huff, seeking relief from the growing pressure in her abdomen. She stroked her swell of stomach, envisioning a lush head of hair underneath her palm so beautifully reminiscent of her husband’s. She winced at a particularly sharp kick against her ribcage. Even through the very-active baby, Cyare hummed warmly. “Early-riser, like your Papa…”

Hunter smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.” He leaned down and gave an apologetic kiss to her stomach.

“You should be. You’re supposed to be keeping her settled so I can sleep,” Cyare smirked.

Hunter’s hand took over in stroking their unborn baby. “I think I woke her up.”

“She likes the sound of your voice,” Cyare whispered as the movements in her womb picked up. Her hand became achingly tender as she reached up and stroked Hunter’s cheek. “Can’t say I blame her,” she traced his tattoo. “You’re hard not to like.”

“Well I beg to differ.”