shonen-edu

[howtobeamagicalgirl]

A coworker just. Not really gaslighted me but. Idk. I'm not sure what happened or what she was doing.

[caeunot]

johnnie guilbert x reader

➷ breeding kink plus some fluff :3

PSA: the johnnie ive written about is the fictional version we all have in our minds, we truly don't know how he actually is and it's good to make a balance to avoid any uneasy or parasocial feelings when writing about a real person.

you and johnnie have been dating for around three years and you already decided that he is the man you are going to marry, you two are both almost 30 now which is terrifying but it also is making your baby feaver worsen.

you have always wanted kids and johnnie knows that, he never was fully against it but he always looked a bit awkward when you two would talk about it.

johnnie also knows that you have an extreme breeding kink, which has led to a lot of roleplay in the bed but you feel it's time to do something a bit more official.

when one of your friends asked to babysit their 17 month old baby you agreed! one part because you love kids and other so that you can give yourself and johnnie (mainly johnnie) a feel for how it's like to be a parent.

"thanks so much you guys! we haven't had an actual break for so long we need this.", "it's our pleasure I promise we will take good care of lil jess". your friend passes her into your arms and johnnie bends down and pokes her arm. "hey jess! I'm Johnny and I'll help look after you for the next few days :D"

you start unpacking all the baby stuff like diapers the toys and milk, johnnie watches you in awe and for almost every item asks you questions about it. "and what about this?" he says pointing to a cream. "that's for diaper rashes! their bums are super sensitive so it's important to add after changing a diaper". " so u gotta like.. rub it on and stuff...".

you laugh at him and he laughs back, but his laughing stops when you mention how he will have to try change her a few times himself. eventually you two settle everything in and you teach him the basics like how to feed them and how to make the bottles.

"okay can u put in microwave for 20 seconds! she prefers it warm". johnnie put the bottle in and started staring intensively into the microwave, you can't help but let out a laugh by accident making your hand immediately smack your mouth. "okay what was that for!! I thought I was doing this properly.." you walk over to him and put your arms around his waist. "I laughed because you looked so cute doing it baby, I'd love to make you a dad"

that comment made him turn his head to the side as his face went a bit red, you remove your hands from his waist and use it to guide his face to yours and you two share a deep kiss.

that night after putting jess to sleep in her fold out crib you and johnnie cuddled on the bed while watching some tv when johnnie turns to face you, "do you think I'd make a good dad?". " johnnie are you kidding?! you would make an amazing dad! you have such an sweet nature and you are the perfect mix of playful and serious, baby your the blueprint for a perfect dad" he let out a big gummy smile after that and pulled you on top of him and you two start making out for awhile before falling asleep in each other's arms.

at the end of the weekend you two had learned a lot, you learned that johnnie actually is really good with playing with babies.. not so much the unfun stuff like diapers and spit but that's something you get used to over time. and johnnie learned that there was nothing more than he wanted at that moment than to make you a mom, the way you were to gentle and sweet to the baby and the way you knew exactly how to do everything with her. honestly he found it really hot. that's why that night after jess went back home he took your hand and started to gently lead you to the bedroom.

"johnnie you weirdo what are you doing!" you say jokingly as he closes the bedroom door and pushes you onto the bed. he leans over you and whispers in your ear, "im ready" knowing you would know exactly what he ment. you immediately reached for his face and you two share a deep kiss and slipped tongue, he picked you up slowly to push you further onto the bed and immediately took off his shirt and pants as you do the same.

he crawls towards you like a hungry animal, while sitting on your thighs he starts kissing your belly and slowly gets higher and higher till he's finally kissing your face. in between the kisses you moan out, "fuck me johnnie, fuck a baby into me". you could see how much those words did something to him because with no hesitation he immediately starts pulling down your panties, but instead of what you expected he slipped his hand in between your legs. he slipped 2 fingers in making you shudder and hold the sheets as he went back and forth inside of you before letting one finger out and using it to rub your clit slowly.. enough to where it's making you go crazy but not enough to orgasam just yet

after a few minutes he takes his soaking fingers out and licks them, "are you ready darling?" he asks you in a sweet whisper without actually giving you time to answer as he slips it in almost instantly

he starts grinding back on forth inside of you and leans forward to start kissing you and grabbing your boobs to keep him steady, after a little bit of him going slow you decided to speed things up by pushing up your hips making his dick go deeper inside you, taking him off guard he let out an accidental whimper. this was enough to make him go harder and faster.

and harder and faster he did

the whole bed was screeching as you two rocked it back and forth, you have never seen johnnie like this before, he normally is really sweet and gentle but this time he's being really rough, he's digging his nails into your back and leaving bite marks all over your chest.

"after this your all mine y/n.. this is me claiming you" and as he says that he moans and grips onto you harder and you feel his warm seed filling you.

when he took it out he immediately stuck his finger back inside to make sure you don't loose any of the baby batter he gave you.

❣

[luveline]

what about Steve finding out he’s gonna be a dad for the first time??? or him doting on you while you’re pregnant 🥹

You’re asleep when Steve’s starts kissing you. “Love you,” he’s saying between presses of his lips, the words bouncing off of the side of your nose. 

You blink, eyelashes sticky with sleep. Your back aches and couch springs groan as you try to stretch, Steve’s arms locked around you to hold you in place. “What time is it?” you ask. Your voice barely comes out. You try again, “How long have I been sleeping?” 

You tip your face back. He’s laid down beside you, smiling, his hair crushed by the cushion under his cheek. You brush it out of his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he says, sounding happy and affectionate at once. “I’ve been home for an hour. We napped.” 

You can tell. You feel distinctly relaxed. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“Nauseous.” 

“Oh no,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest. His hand slides down to your stomach. “What’s she doing to you?” 

For a moment, he talks so gently, with so much love, you assume he’s talking to the baby. But then you realise he’s talking to you, and you melt like soft taffy under a hot sun. “Nothing, really.” 

“No?” he asks, hand on the topmost curve of your bump. 

“I think I didn’t like lunch. My taste buds are changing or something.” 

“I can make you something. I’m an excellent chef.” 

“Maybe…” You curl into him as much as you can in the limited space. “In a minute.” 

“In a minute,” he repeats, half teasing, half something warmer. He’s turned on his side to give you and your bump enough room, an arm curled underneath you surely dead and the other still resting gently on your stomach. The air between you is warm, almost damp, too hot from napping together but neither of you willing to move away yet. 

You get lost in thought. The nice shape of his smile is distracting, especially still lax with the after effect of a good sleep. 

“What was your day like?” he asks eventually. 

“Just quiet.” You close your eyes and let them sting, tears collecting under your eyelids that you blink away. “I think the baby is making me really tired.” 

“Well, you’re making a baby. It’s hard,” he says. “Much easier to begin with.” 

You smile rather than laugh, too tired. “Way too easy. How was,” —you yawn wide, eyes watering yet again— “your day?” 

“A little less tiring than yours, obviously.” 

You rub your nose into his polo shirt. “Every shift is another pair of socks.” 

“This one’s worth more than that. A box of diapers for sure. And a couple of days of groceries, I guess.” He kisses your nose messily. “Got your vitamins on the way home.” 

“Thank you… Actually, my day was agitating. I have this itch between my shoulders I can’t reach.”

“Yeah?” he’s immediately interested. 

“Yeah, would you– yeah, to your– little more…” You drift off as his hand sneaks under your shirt and his nails find the awful evil itch that’s irking you. He knows exactly where to go from the slightest hitch on your breath, and he isn’t cute about it. He likely leaves scratch marks behind. It’s exactly what you needed. “Thank you so much.” 

He rubs the scratches with the side of his thumb to cover the pain until it’s faded. “You’re welcome, honey. I’m your guy. Itches, rashes, headaches, weird moles. I’m always gonna be your guy.” 

“Until the baby comes along ‘n then you're their guy.” 

“I guess so. I think you kind of…” You’re both so tired your conversation comes out slowly, but it comes. “…make that promise when you decide to have one. I’ll be her guy, but that’s not– I’m always gonna be here for you. I’m still gonna be your guy. You’ll have to share me, that’s all.” His nose crinkles with his smile. “I’m not gonna give you half, though. I’ll just have to double my efforts.” 

“Really?” you ask. You hadn’t realised you were worried until he mentioned it. 

“Duh, babe. Not gonna punish you for something I did to you.”

“This isn’t a punishment.” 

His fingers spread over your shoulder, skin on skin. “For sure not. I’m not talking about the baby, I mean me. The way I am. I’m not gonna choose her over you, I’m going to take care of you both.” 

His polo is easy to collect and squeeze in your hand as you tip into his chest. “You’ll have to choose her sometimes.” 

“So you admit it’s a her?” 

“I admit nothing, H.” 

“I’m on your side forever,” he promises, noses inclined together, your bump pressed to his abdomen. He’s hugging you like there’s nowhere else in the world to be. “I’m always gonna look after you.” He scratches your skin in emphasis, much kinder and longer strokes of his hand. “Always.” 

[warpedpuppeteer]

Buck was a baby when they took his marrow for Daniel and it failed and Daniel died. How much did his parents blame baby Buck for it?? They can't even stand him when he's an adult I can't imagine how bad it was as a baby?? I'm thinking if they left him crying to himself because they didn't want to deal with him. If they just fed him and changed him and just left him in the crib so that they didn't have to deal with him. And baby Buck is just there all alone babbling to himself because his parents wouldn't care to play with him or comfort him.

I wonder if Maddie had to awkwardly carry a baby Buck from his crib so she can try to play with him or to comfort him when he was bawling so hard his face was red and he was gasping for air and Maddie couldn't stand the fact that their parents didn't do anything. Even if she had just lost her other baby brother. If she had to learn how to make milk just right so that she could feed him anytime, even through her own grief. If she hated changing diapers but she didn't want him to get a rash and so did it anyways. I wonder if she's the one who saw him crawl first. If she saw him holding himself up on furniture to start walking and cheered him and little baby Buck just grinned at her and tried to toddle towards her. I wonder if his first word wasn't mom but "mathie" (because he couldn't say the letter d yet). I wonder if he'd look for her when he was upset, throwing a tantrum when she wasn't there and his parents tried to calm him down but all he screams is "i want maddie!". I wonder if he'd have a nightmare and crawl into Maddie's bed and hide there. I wonder if he asked if he can help her comb her hair and Maddie agrees even though he tangles it. I wonder if Maddie got him his first football, teaching him how to kick a goal.

I wonder if years later, when they're more apart than they've ever been, Buck will curl into a little ball while crying and think about crawling into Maddie's arms to feel loved again. If Maddie thought about hugging Buck really hard and hiding under the covers, so that she could feel safe again, fingers trailing over a postcard he sent, smiling but his eyes sad, hoping that even though he's sad, that he's safe. I wonder if every time Buck travels in the jeep, he feels like Maddie is with him, showing him the way. Maybe he even calls the jeep Maddie sometimes and talks to her, just to feel like she's there.

I wonder if Buck walks Maddie down the aisle and thinks about how he once toddled towards her because she loved him, kept him safe and happy and now Buck gets to walk her towards someone who makes her feel safe and happy and loved. And Maddie thinks finally. Finally they are both happy and safe and together again.

[silentglassbreak]

(photo cred to @lilyhella's post)

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

Chapters are shorter because I want to get this story out faster. Just means more chapters than the original. The love I am getting from this story, and from Anonymous, has me absolutely dying. You all are the best. Thank you so much for taking the time to follow this! 🖤

Warnings: Desperate, sad, heartbroken smut.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc

Also, @diabolicdiatonics, your kind words and feedback earned you a spot on the tag list. 😉

Part 5 - Blurry

‘Having your heart ripped out of your chest’ is a grotesque, yet extremely accurate metaphor to use when you’re dealing with heartbreak. The pain, the depression, the perspective it gives, I can imagine resembles that of someone tearing through your flesh, muscle, and bone, ripping your beating heart out, and throwing it on the floor like it means nothing.

Ironic, because I’d prefer that to what I was currently feeling.

Two days had gone by since Mileena ended us. Two slow, long, painful days. One of the best parts about being a parent, that no one forewarns you of, is that you don’t get to break down. Not when you have kids.

After that phone call, all I wanted was to crawl in a hole. If anything, just to keep myself from crawling into a bar or a bottle. I wanted to lay in bed and never wake up. Stay in the safe bubble of my room forever, where the pillows and sheets and blanket smelled like her.

Is that what I did? No. I promptly took my daughter home, and kept her for the following forty-eight hours.

She didn’t deserve to see the pain that this had caused, that I somehow managed to conjure. She deserved her Daddy’s full attention, and that is exactly what she got.

The first night was hard. I had to text Leena several times to ask questions. Had her bedtime changed? Why did she keep throwing her favorite stuffed lion out of the crib? Where was the rash cream? What the hell did ‘handle’ mean?!

Leena: We go to bed at 8:30 now.

Leena: She’ll do that over and over. She’s messing with you. She’ll stop after a few times.

Leena: Medicine cabinet, Addie’s bathroom, top shelf.

Leena: Angel. She misses the dog.

Her responses were robotic. Cold. No emotion at all.

After Addison finally fell asleep, I had no time to sulk. The tour exhaustion creeping in and the weight of the entire day pulled me into bed, narrowly managing to click the baby monitor on before I fell into a slumber. In my dreams, Mileena was with me, curling her arm around my waist like she did, pressing her ice cold feet to the back of my legs, and all was right with the world.

But that reprieve didn’t last nearly long enough, as Addison was awake, bright and early at 6:30AM, ready to eat and be changed.

How did Mileena do this for months alone? I was twelve hours in and felt like dying already.

That day, I called and begged for help, prompting Nick to come hang with Addison and I for most of the day. He also, thankfully, brought Angel to stay with us until Addison went back to Mileena.

We didn’t talk about it. I couldn’t. It felt too real already.

The day passed easier, but I still had to ask too many questions.

Me: She wont eat her puffs. Is there something else she eats now?

Leena: Cereal.

Me: What’s the wifi password?

Leena: Addison1031!

Me: What size diapers does she wear?

Leena: It’s on the front of the diaper.

By the final day, I had vowed not to ask any more questions. I was a father, a grown man, I could handle my own daughter. I could make decisions and figure out how to keep her happy and fed. I wasn’t an invalid.

So that’s exactly what I did. I didn’t ask a single question the entire day. Each time I managed to figure out what Addison needed or wanted, I cheered for myself, proud that I could manage.

But by midday, my phone had chimed on the counter while I fed Addie lunch.

Leena: Everything okay?

I scrunched my eyebrows.

Me: Yeah, why?

Leena: Haven’t heard from you all day.

This made me roll my eyes.

Me: I am an adult. I can handle an 18-month old.

Leena: Okay. Is 7 a good time to come by and get her?

My heart sunk, a regular feeling for me these days.

Me: Sure.

I pursed my lips, typing again.

Me: Are you sending someone else to come get her?

Leena: Do you want me to?

I thought about this. Did I want to see her? Feel the hurt even more than I already could? Have her so close that I could touch her, but not be allowed to? Rip that wound, that had only barely begun to scab, back open wide to bleed all over?

Me: No.

Yes. Yes I did.

I was frazzled, Addison in stage four meltdown mode. She was extra tired, having refused to go down for a nap today. It was 6PM, and I hadn’t had the opportunity to pick up the living room or kitchen yet like I planned, intending to not look like a total mess in front of Leena.

My sweats were covered in what could only be described as mystery goo, crusted and a foul color. Was it food? Crap? Boogers? What a time to be alive.

“Lady, I don’t know where your lion is!” I was currently ripping my living room apart, sweat coating my forehead and neck, while my daughter sat in her walker, screaming bloody murder for her toy over and over.

“Where did you put him, mama?!” The couch cushions were askew, the coffee table pushed off to the side, and all of the cabinets in the entertainment center wide open.

The constant screaming burned a hole in my brain. I stood up, and took a calculated breath before my head exploded. It hurt so God damn bad, and the ibuprofen was just not cutting it.

It was at that exact moment I saw a flash of yellow fuzz fly by my peripheral, and I whipped my head around to see Angel, lion between his teeth, standing at attention at the edge of the living room.

I let out all of the air in my lungs, nearly collapsing in relief when he trotted over to the baby, dropping the stuffed toy on her tray and licking away her drying tears.

My body fell back onto the remaining intact cushion, and I dropped my head into my hands.

Who was I kidding? I can’t do this.

Like some kind of cosmic joke, the doorbell rang just as the thought crossed my mind, and I heavily lifted myself up, stalking to the door.

I pulled it open, any stress and anxiety melting, and an overwhelming calm overtaking me. As it sunk in, the tinge of dread at the end kept me from smiling at the sight.

Mileena stood on the other side, black tank top cut low, jean’s hugging her hips, flip-flops showing off black painted toe nails. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun on top of her head where her sunglasses were perched.

“Hey.”

I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. I just wanted to fall, let her catch me. I wanted to break down like a small child, and cry. Listen to her tell me it was okay. She was done punishing me, and she would come home. That life would go back to the way it was supposed to. That she loved me, and forgave me, and that we’d never be apart again.

But I knew better.

“Hey. Come in.” I stood aside, letting her step inside, watching as her eyes surveyed the scene in front of her. She looked amused.

I began twirling around, putting cushions back and straightening the table. Picking up toys and tossing them in the bin, closing cabinets.

I looked back at her, frozen in the same spot, a grin on her face. My chest lurched for a second, until she lifted her finger and pointed behind me.

Confused, I looked back, seeing Addison now laying her head down atop her lion, eyes closed and snoozing comfortably. Still bent over, completely defeated, I fell back onto the floor, knees bent, and rested my arms on them, shaking my head and chest trembling with quiet laughter. Leena took a step into the living room, chuckling herself.

"Long day?"

I just looked at her, and shrugged. "Maybe a little."

Her eyes were sympathetic. Her smile was tight.

"Uhm," She shifted, and it was then I noticed the tote bag on her shoulder. "do you mind if I run upstairs for a minute? I just need to grab a few things."

I waved toward the staircase lazily. "Go for it. Looks worse up there though."

My tone was dismissive, which wasn't exactly on purpose, but I couldn't muster anything else in that moment. She just nodded, trotting up the steps. I just stared at Addie, breathing evenly, thinking about how simple life seemed when she was sleeping.

"Noah?" I looked up to see her, hanging slightly over the banister. "Have you seen my flat iron?"

"Under the bathroom sink."

She shook her head. "It's not."

I grunted, standing back up. "Angel." I snapped and grabbed his attention, pointing at Addison. He promptly jumped up from his bed in the corner of the room, and curled up in front of the walker, always keeping watch.

I jogged up the stairs, brushing past Mileena, making a conscious effort not to notice that she smelled like fresh soap. Recently showered.

I swung into the bathroom, bending down to look under the sink, and dug around the miscellaneous items that lived under there. I finally located it, beneath a stack of towels, and pulled it out. She was stood in the doorway to the bathroom, and I handed it to her, stopping just short of a foot in front of her.

She grabbed it gratefully. "Thanks."

Leena turned around and disappeared into the closet, coming back out with some clothes she had left, and other random items that I didn't take note of. I leaned against the frame of the bathroom door, just watching her move. It made it worse, seeing her empty her things out of the bedroom, but maybe it would help me accept the situation? I definitely didn't have the energy to fight.

She finally zipped the bag, and looked up at me. "I think that's good for now. I can always grab more when I drop her off again."

"Mm." Was all I could say.

She shrugged, and sat down on the bed, her large, deep brown eyes staring at me.

"Do you hate me?"

She's joking, right? She had to be.

"What?"

"You look like you hate me."

This made me laugh from somewhere deep in my chest, a twisted, sadistic cackle. "Wow."

She crinkled her nose. So fucking cute. "Wow, what?"

I grabbed the back of my neck and looked down at the floor, trying to find the strength.

"No, Mileena. I don't hate you." I pulled at the hairs that grew at the base of my skull, begging for a sensation other than this fucking misery. "Quite the opposite, actually."

Her face looked...sad. So fucking sad. I could relate.

"I hate this." I pointed to the bag next to her on the bed. "But not you."

Her hand tapped the mattress, beckoning me to sit. I knew I should give her a wide enough berth, fearing I may lose control at any given moment. I wasn't good at that in general, but around Mileena? Fucking hell.

I didn't budge.

She rolled her eyes. "Noah. Come sit with me."

Well, I mean, when she put it that way.

I walked over to the bed, and sat. I kept at least six inches of space between us, and looked at her.

Her eyes were shiny; wet. This was hard for her, and I knew that, but I couldn't see how she could be hurting as much as me.

I was worth losing. She wasn't.

"I just," Her voice was crackling, as if it was almost gone. "I miss you."

"You know how to fix that." My words were so matter-of-fact, and I knew it wasn't that easy, but I wanted it to be.

"I told you. I can't."

"Can't, or won't?"

She was just gazing at me. There was something behind her eyes, that I was sure she didn't want me to see, something vulnerable and broken. Her soul. It hurt.

Maybe that's why she grabbed me, wrapped her arms around me, and buried her head in my chest. It startled me, but my arms still circled her, and my chin came to rest on her head. Her body was trembling hard, soft cries coming out of her.

I pressed my lips in to the top of her head, my own tears beginning to spill over, soaking into her hair.

"It's alright, baby. I got you." I tried my damndest to keep my voice even, hugging her tighter the harder she sobbed.

"Noah, I love you so fucking much."

I began rocking us gently. "I love you too, Mileena. More than you could ever understand."

Her fingers were gripping the shirt on my back like her life depended on it. "I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry."

Her words were so quiet that I almost missed them.

I pulled back, looking down at her reddened face. "Don't."

Her eyes widened, her lip shaking.

"Don't apologize."

I don't know why. I didn't even think. I just leaned down, and brushed a soft kiss against her lips, as if it was nothing. Like a reflex.

But when I tried to pull away, her hand had me, the back of my neck locked into place, and her mouth pressing against me hastily, as if she was starving. Like she would never get the chance again.

A spark ignited inside of me, a roaring fire building in my chest, and for the first time in days, I finally felt alive. The blood shooting through my veins was hot as sulfuric acid, needing to be put to use or it may burn through my skin.

Pressing my tongue into her mouth, she let a gasping moan come out of her mouth.

That was it. She was done for. Even if only in this moment, she was mine.

I dug my fingers into her waist, and flipped her around, pushing her back onto the bed, without disconnecting our lips. I sucked her bottom lip into my mouth, letting my teeth dig in hard enough to make her whimper.

Trailing wet kisses down the side of her neck, I let my left hand trail down the center of her body, and pop the button of her jeans open effortlessly, pulling the zipper down.

"Noah."

She was trying to get my attention, as if she didn't have every shred of my mind on her at all times. I didn't stop, my hand sliding down into the front of her jeans, fingers slipping into her panties.

"You tell me to stop, and it's done." I spoke against her neck, making her shiver.

I paused, waiting, but heard no sounds of protest. Just hot, ragged breathing.

Mercilessly, my hand slipped down between her lips, my index finger penetrating her smoothly, making her back arch clean off the bed.

"That's it, baby." I pressed my lips to her cheek, slipping my middle finger in, curling both digits to graze her sweet spot. "Just let it all go."

It was as if a rubber band snapped in her, her body loosening, relaxing beneath my touch. Her eyes had fluttered closed, her lashes dancing on her cheekbones. I watched her, mouth open, drinking in the sight of her coming undone. Her hips bucked, fucking herself harder on my hand.

Her hands pulled at my arm, grounding herself. "I'm going to fucking come." Her words were broken, fighting for breath.

"Yeah baby, come for me." I pressed against the soft spot inside of her, applying more steady pressure as I fingered her savagely.

I saw her eyes rolling back, and felt her spasm around my hand, a flood of moisture soaking her panties.

She reached her face up, connecting our lips again, and we laid there, making out for longer than necessary, arms and legs tangled together. How long we stayed like this, I just couldn't say. I would've stayed there forever if I could.

Eventually her hand snaked down to my sweats, palming the hard erection I had been trying to ignore. I grunted, pushing up into her hand. I would take any touch, any attention, from her.

"Noah?"

I pressed my forehead to hers, noses bumping as I continued to press light kisses on her lips. "Hmm?"

"I need you."

I am not one to deny someone their needs.

It took a fraction of a second before I had her jeans off, panties going along with, and was sliding my sweats down, letting my cock free. Her eyes stared at me, half-masked. Waiting.

I had no time to waste, for fear at any moment she may just disappear, so I lined myself up to her, and pressed in hard. She let out a noise that could only be described as guttural. I took a moment to adjust, trying not to explode right then and there. Once I had gotten a grip on myself, I began sliding slowly in and out of her.

Her hands grabbed me, fisting the hair on the back of my head, and pulled my face down to hers, locking us again in a warm, wet kiss. The emotion that poured between us was an ebb and flow of want and regret, not knowing what was coming after this was over.

Leena’s hips shifted to meet my thrusts, our bodies pressed together in a rhythmic dance. We parted to breathe, panting together, each growing closer to our respective climaxes.

“Noah,” She was staring up at me. “I love you.” She grit her teeth. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

I had to close my eyes, focusing on the feel of her around me, her pussy tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“Fuck, Mileena. I fucking love you.”

Her hands were now holding my shoulders, her face desperate. Her eyes begged me to come as I felt her begin to spasm again.

That’s all it took. I let go, the waves rushing over me all at once, my skin burning white hot.

We stared at each other for a long time, pain being shared between the small space of our bodies. It was almost suffocating, but I preferred it over feeling like I would never be here again. That single fact was enough to keep me locked onto her, silently begging her not to leave me.

However, she broke our connection, shifting underneath me, a sign that this was done. The moment had gone, and it was time to let reality back into the room.

-

Two weeks. Two weeks without my better half. The side of my soul that held anything good and sane. Two weeks I had felt like the shell of a human, a suit of skin hung over a skeleton like some kind of elaborate Halloween decoration. Two weeks I had felt like I was going to die at any given moment, or wished I would.

Somehow, I was still breathing.

Today was going to be different, though. I had received a call from Alec, our representative from Sumerian, saying that the meeting was set and we all needed to be there.

I anticipated this meeting every second since that moment in the hotel. It was finally time to make things right, to at least some degree. I was nothing if not ecstatic.

My truck parked neatly next to Jolly's Audi in the parking lot, I met the guys, who all stood outside the building, chatting.

"Afternoon, gents." The smile across my face nearly broke my jaw.

"Hey, he's alive!" Folio's arm came up to shove me, making me shove back playfully.

"Shut up, dude. I'm going through shit."

He responded with an eye roll. "Can't even check in, dick."

"Cut the man some slack, he's adjusting." Nick snickered.

"Yep. I'm adjusting." I laughed.

A woman, nearly as tall as me, clean-cut and wildly intimidating, opened the door to the building and addressed us.

"Guys? We're about to get started."

We all straightened up, walking into the office and following her to a conference room.

"Ah, guys!" Alec stood from the long meeting table, a warm smile on his face. He was dressed casually, jeans and a plain blue t-shirt, coming around to give each of us a hard hug. "Good to see you."

We all said our greetings before taking seats on the same side of the table as Alec. The woman, who I had not met yet, was sat on the other side, a folder in front of her and a pen in her hands.

"This is Elizabeth Jones, our attorney." She nodded.

"Wish we were meeting under better circumstances." We all nodded in approval. She sighed, looking at the time on her watch. "She should be here shortly."

My heart began thumping when I could hear the door handle turning, and the heavy wooden door swinging open. I leaned back in my seat, my hands folded over my stomach. I caught Alec's face, giving me a knowing glance to keep my mouth shut.

"Rachel. Come in."

Rachel walked in, dressed more professional than I think I had ever seen. She wore black slacks, a grey, sleeveless blouse, and her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her lipstick was bright red. Likely due to the demon living inside of her attempting to escape. I only allowed myself a fleeting glance before I stared down at the table.

"What can I do for you all?"

Elizabeth stood to greet her.

"Rachel, I'm Elizabeth, nice to meet you." Her smile was fake, snake-like. I loved it. Deception. Rachel's exact game being played against her.

The blonde sat directly across from me, and I could feel her eyes on me. I didn't even bother looking back at her. She didn't deserve that. Not from me.

"Rachel, we brought you here to discuss the events that took place in Manhattan, and San Diego." Alec's voice was calm.

I heard her sigh. "I assumed as much."

"Okay. Well," I looked over to see him gesturing with his hands. "you see, it's come to our attention that there is some hostile tension between you, and some of the members of the band."

I looked over to my brothers, noticing they all glared directly at her.

"Tension?" She scoffed. "You mean the way Noah nearly attacked me at the hotel?"

My jaw tightened. Shut up. Don't say a word.

"The story we heard had to do with you causing a scene in the hallway of the hotel, making advances toward Noah, and spreading some rather salacious rumors about him at a club in New York."

Her hand slapped down on the table, causing a loud, sharp sound to echo in the room. I didn't move an inch.

"That's bullshit! He came to my fucking room late at night, misconstrued me asking to hang out, and then nearly pounced on me three days later when his girlfriend fucking left him!"

Don't fucking speak, Noah. It's not fucking worth it.

My hands were nearly ripping the skin off each other, my nails digging in to keep from letting my rage spill over.

"Ms. Hollis," Elizabeth's voice came in, unnaturally soothing. "the details of the events are unimportant." She sent a stare at me, to which I did not return.

"So why am I here?" Rachel's voice was irritated. Yes, what an inconvenience this must be...for her.

"Due to the aforementioned tension, and lack of cohesion with this working relationship, we would like to make you an offer."

I finally snuck a glance at Rachel, who had an eyebrow raised at Elizabeth in apprehension.

"What kind of offer?"

Elizabeth slid the folder over to her, setting a manicured hand down on the table.

"Six months pay, up front. All vacation days paid out, and several letters of recommendation from Sumerian."

Her mouth fell open, and her eyes narrowed. "You're firing me?!"

She turned her attention back to Alec, her voice becoming shrill.

"It's a separation." Alec was cold.

Rachel stood up, shoving the folder back at Elizabeth.

"Oh fuck that, you can't fire me over this!"

"Again, this is not a termination, Rachel. It's an amicable separation."

Elizabeth, however, was met with the end of Rachel's pointer finger.

"How dare you!" She turned to us next, her lips sneer and teeth bared. "And you!" She looked directly at me. I challenged her gaze, and couldn't help but let slip the slightest smirk.

"Oh, you fucking bastards." She backed away from the table. "You'll be hearing from my fucking lawyer."

The last of her I saw was a flash of her hair before the door slammed shut.

"Guys?" Jolly looked at Alec and Elizabeth. "Do we need to be worried?"

Elizabeth just stood, sighing heavily.

"I hope not."

[jacksdinonuggets]

Charlie comforts Vaggie after a nightmare?

One minific, coming right up!

Vaggie was getting ready for bed with Charlie. She really didn’t want to go to bed, afraid of the nightmares that would occur. But Charlie had been so worried when she would see the eye bags. She had explained why she wasn’t getting much sleep earlier that day and luckily, Charlie offered a somewhat solution. She suggested that Vaggie would have some little time before bed.

“Alright, Hun, did you brush your teeth yet?” Charlie asked, getting her changed into her onesie.

“Ummm, Yes?” She lied. Charlie chuckled a little.

“You’re a horrible liar, Vaggie,” She picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. She helped her up on the stool in front of the sink. She got out the kids toothpaste and helped her brush her teefers. 

When she was done, Charlie wiped her face and gave her a quick forehead kiss. Vaggie giggled at the little peck. The caregiver smiled, tucking Vaggie into bed after leading her back to the bedroom. She climbed in with her and cuddled her until they both fell asleep.

Charlie woke up a couple hours later to the sound of screaming and wailing. She quickly shot up and saw her baby sitting up and shaking. She was pulling at her hair and trying to cover her ears. 

It took a couple of seconds before the princess processed what was happening. Once she realized, she quickly sprung into action and started to comfort her little. She weaved her hands out of her hair and hugged her tightly.

“Shh, shh, It’s okay, baby, it was just a dream,” She held her close, keeping her from hurting herself. 

Vaggie cried extremely loud. Some of the other residents barged into their room to check if everything was okay. Once they saw that Charlie had a handle on the situation, they backed out, still a little worried though.

Charlie cuddled her while she bawled for the next couple of minutes before she finally calmed down. She was gripping Charlie with all her might, really showing how scared she was. But soon enough, the screaming stopped and all that was left were a few tears that escaped every now and then.

“I’m so sorry, baby. That must’ve been so scary,” Charlie said, “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Vaggie violently shook her head, really not wanting to talk about it. If she did, then she would end up crying and distressed again, and she really didn’t want that.

“That’s okay, baby, you don’t have to,” The princess gently scratched her scalp.

Vaggie relaxed a bit before looking up at her mama.

“Yes, sweetie?”

Instead of answering, Vaggie blushed  and simply poked the padding underneath her onesie. She was too embarrassed to say she had a nighttime accident but luckily, Charlie understood. She undid the snaps and took a look at it.

“Seems like it still has a lot of room left, can you wait till morning?” She asked. It was 3 am and she was tired. Changing a diaper was not something she wanted to do while she was barely awake. The last time Vaggie had a midnight change, Charlie accidentally used toothpaste instead of the rash cream. She did not want to make any mistakes like that again.

“Mhm,” Vaggie mumbled, snuggling more.

Charlie didn’t think that Vaggie would be able to fall back asleep but surprisingly, she did! Even with their interruption during the night, they were able to wake up feeling well rested the next morning.

[fetishfairytales2]

Happy Birthday Sissy! (Story)

Heather and Brandon are original characters created by @wittlesissyb4by in his fantastic series “Besties”, which this blog expands on. Please support him through his Tumblr and his SubscribeStar. ——————————————

"Oh my God today is going the BEST day ever!” I squealed as Connor and I snuck into the dark nursery. My poor, long suffering Brandi was all cute and cozy in her tiny crib-cage. “Just look at those footie pajamas!” I giggled. They were pink of course, with ruffles. They even have “Sissy Princess” across the front! “They’re too perfect for her!” Connor just shook his head; “looks more like a girl every day…” 

I nodded excitedly as we leaned over the sleeping sissy. “I know right? And can we talk about her hair? It’s gotten so long! I totally braided it last night. We had a fun little girls night! I did her nails and her hair while I made her watch another of those videos you and I made,” I nudged Connor with a playful wink. 

"Leave her alone, though,” I teased, “she's our precious little baby girl after all. Just look at her all trapped in her little cage. So adorbs!" I slowly opened the cage and gently called out to Brandi, but she was out cold. Ugh, typical. "Okay, Daddy," I pouted, giving Connor a pleading look. "Looks like you get to wake up our sissy princess."

Brandi was so cute, twitching in her sleep. She was probably dreaming of being a real man again.. “Mmm, such a strong Daddy!” I purred playfully, loving how Connor, all big and strong, just reached in and grabbed Brandi under her arms. He pulled her up to her sissy feet in the crib like a child. "Good morning, sissy-poo!" I taunted, knowing it would make Brandi cringe.

I loved how humiliated she always was, it was so much fun watching her squirm. But of course, Brandi had to try and ruin my princess fun, grumbling behind her pacifier gag, trying to resist as Connor picked her up like a doll. “No, no, no Little Ms. Priss,” I quickly shut her down. “It's a special day and you better behave or else you’ll end up over Daddy's knee!” I warned, wagging my finger in her face.

"Ew, he smells," Connor grunted, tightening his grip on his former bully. "She smells," I corrected him with a sassy wink. "And she smells because she refused to give Daddy a special 'good night kiss' last night So I didn’t change her!” I giggled. “Aww,” I cooed, “look at her, still struggling. Are you going to be a good girl now and earn your diapee change, Brandi, or do you want to spend another day in your messy Pampers?” I loved how after all this time, the poor sissy still thought she had a choice, an opinion, or any shred of dignity left. “Is diaper rash really worse than sucking Connor's dick for the millionth time?” I asked sweetly, booping her on the nose.

I quietly spun my finger in a circle while smiling at Brandi, gesturing for Connor to turn the helpless sissy around. "Bend over, girlie," I commanded in my mommy voice, pushing Brandi's head down. "Do you know what day it is, little one?" I asked, unzipping the back of her PJs and pulling them down to her ankles. She struggled as Connor pressed his hand against the small of her back, her head shaking in confusion. "Daddy?" I asked with a wink at Connor. "Can you help our sweet girl remember what happened a whole year ago today?"

"Wow, can you believe it's been a whole year?" Connor teased as he slowly removed Brandi's plastic panties. My bull, with his hand wrapped tightly around Brandi's braided ponytail, forced her head back to meet his gaze. "Since. I. Started. Fucking. Your. Girlfriend." With each word, he punctuated it with a firm spank on Brandi's diapered bottom. Poor Brandi was squirming and struggling even harder now, tears were even welling in her eyes! "Wow, Daddy spanks hard doesn’t he? Thank goodness I double diapered you!" I laughed, "otherwise, poor Brandi would be making a huge mess all over her crib!"

Connor couldn't get enough of spanking his pathetic little sissy cuckold, aiming right for her exposed thighs. That means it's been a year now since I made you my bitch! And all those years you thought you were better me? Now look at you! You fucking sissy!" Poor Brandi was crying and begging behind her gag with each smack, sobbing now. "Mmmmph! Mmmmph!" 

Connor was getting rougher and rougher, reveling in her humiliation. "I can't understand you, loser!" He laughed, yanking her up by her hair again. I didn't want to tire her out before the real fun even started! "But to celebrate,” I intervened, rubbing Connor's strong back, calming him down, “Daddy and I have planned your Sissy First Birthday! We've even invited all our friends, some of your coworkers, and a few special guests! Oh, and of course, we decorated the backyard for your special party!"

“Let’s get her ready!” I laughed, tugging Brandi toward me by her hair. “I’ll change your diapee now and you can give Daddy that special kiss you owe him later when all your friends arrive!” I turned to Connor; “Babe, could you hold her down for me? She’s probably going to be a squirmy little sissy when she sees her special outfit…”

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Redemption Arcs

What -- Nobody is past hope and everyone deserves a redemption arc. You finally talk with big brother Shane following you catching his flirting with unreceptive, scared Lori.

When -- in between season 2 episodes Chupacabra and Secrets. In the Slowpoke Series, after Thank you, angel

Relationships -- You and Daryl are the canon compliant slow burners of the series. In this chapter, Shane gets vulnerable.

Perspective -- 2nd person

Pronouns -- n/a

TWs -- some language

Word count - under 5,000

Masterlist -- Shiny and Official one here and Chronological one here

What small but good news do you have? -- been wanting that maturity label off Invisible, tugging strings Part 2 since April, and it was finally successfully removed without glitching back again! (took about 9 removals to stick)

If you are a new Slowpoke and haven't read any other stories in the series yet, I recommend reading He hasn't been himself before this one!

..........................................

Carol first takes another sip of tea, holding the mug by the base to heat up her fingers. “It sure got cold last night.”

She says this with one of her smiles she makes to try hiding her upset. It got very cold last night—and her Sophia didn’t even have long pants on when she was chased off.

This’ll be her fifth day lost, if she’s still alive.

Echoing Daryl’s insistent belief that she can be found alive, you voice the possibility that “With all the farmhouses in this area, she’d know to head up to a barn loft to keep warm.” A barn is probably where she’s been this whole time, you’re thinking. Provided there was nothing dead in one, that’s where you’d want to hide.

Carol reverts back to the original subject, finishing telling you, “But, um, to answer you, no, he stayed asleep the whole time I was there.” She’s blinking tears away. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything about her daughter.

You’d woken up later than usual, on the Greene’s couch, after Beth and Maggie began coming downstairs. Following a flurry of good mornins during which you remembered where you were, you blindly stumbled in your blanket toward Daryl’s room, met Carol coming inside with a steaming mug of tea, and you intended to check with her how Daryl’d slept after she took over monitoring him last night.

As soon as you opened your mouth to ask—lo and behold, the man in question wobbled out of his room, wrapped in a blanket like you were and citing the need for a toilet.

You hadn’t been sure if he was okay walking without a chaperone, so you hooked your good arm under his and started to help him.

He got all grumpy at that, then told you how he remembered throwing up yesterday right after his first fall and wanted to know if it was bad.

Well, he got more grumpy after you asked him through the bathroom door to tell you if his boxers had blood in them or if there was any red or brown coming from the front, red or black coming from the back.

Really, you’d changed babies with diaper rash who complained less than that mangy hick did over a simple medical question. Lucky for you, Patricia overheard and took over.

Now you’re inwardly making fun of yourself over having felt so silly with those butterflies in your stomach last night when Daryl accidentally ca—

“—As she headed in there with him a few minutes ago, the first thing out of Patricia’s mouth was how minty the room smelled,” Carol softly giggles, taking another sip of her tea. “I think the smell is stuck in my nose.”

“Mine, too. I like it.”

When asked about the mint, all you’d told Carol was that you’d given some of the muscle rub and the peppermint oil to Daryl to help. You just didn’t specify that it was via…massage. You felt that detail might could’ve been misconstrued.

Especially given that poor dude was so out of it that: he accidentally called you ‘angel.’

It’s not deep. At most, Daryl was having a temporary bout of Florence Nightingale Syndrome, but the highest likelihood is that it was simply an injured person (him) being exhausted and loopy, therefore misattributing the giver of pain relief (you) to an angel.

You never thought you’d feel glad he went back to normal today, all grumpy and grating. It’s a relief that the butterflies in your stomach who plagued you yesterday are all gone now.

Carol calls your name and jiggles your wrist, and you blink. “Sorry, what?”

“Your brother’s coming over,” she repeats—and you’re already hightailing it.

See? Not angelic in the slightest, you can’t even face your own brother without wanting to cuss him out or shove him.

Kudos to you that when Shane calls your name and adds a, “G’morning,” with it, you respond neutrally with “Mornin’. Gonna grab my mp3, be right back.”

“You comin’ with us to the highway today, check for our girl?” Shane calls before you’re inside.

“You know it.”

“We leave in 10.”

“’Kay.”

He starts chatting with Carol as far as you can tell as you stride into the house. You suppose you have to get the music player, now, so you won’t be a liar like him. You know he's trying to get on your good side, what with his "our girl," stuff.

Knocking three times on the door to the room Daryl’s in, you await a response.

“Yeah, s’fine, come in,” he answers on the other side of it.

Opening the door, you’re met with the strong smell of mint and find Patricia still there with him, checking his pupils again as she greets, “Hi, sweetpea. I’d ask how you slept, but seein’ as you’re yawning and were still asleep on the couch 15 minutes ago…” She grins where she’s crouched in front of Daryl.

“Might will nap later,” you admit. “I’m just here for my music player.”

You just now recall that you’d meant to bring Daryl some of his stuff this morning. Toothbrush, pillow, PJ pants, that sort of thing.

Which means you’ll have to go back outside sooner, which means you’ll need to face your brother sooner.

You make a quick prayer for guidance, slip the mp3 into your pocket, and make for the door.

When you think you feel Daryl looking at you, you snap your eyes up in challenge.

He looks away so quick you nearly miss it. And the really nice nervous thrill that shivers through your belly is hopefully the last of the irrational butterflies. It’s one more thing to deal with, and toward Daryl of all people?

Mp3 in your pocket, you exit the house and begin to walk quickly toward Daryl’s tent. Your brother leaves Carol and follows at your pace despite his slight remaining limp.

He asks how you slept.

You shrug. “Could use more. You?”

“Better than I thought I would. Still up for target practice when we get back?”

“So long as I ain’t the target.”

His steps slow, and when he goes to speak, there’s hesitation. “Been talkin’ to Dale or was that one of your jokes?”

“I think it was a joke. What’s that about Mr. H?”

“Ain’t nothing, Y/N.” He stops walking altogether and puts his hands on his hips, moving his hand to muss his hair and instead meeting with the new buzzcut.

“What do you want, Shane?”

Your brother licks his teeth. “For you to just listen.”

Grimacing, you resume walking. “What do you possibly have to say to defend yourself?” you curse under your breath, even though you know you shouldn’t.

Continuing to follow you, he insults, “High and mighty today, are we?”

Your throat goes tight either from offense or because you’re so upset at what he did. Then, eyes growing moist, the anger turns to a type of sadness you can’t place. “I’m scrapin’ the bottom of the barrel here, Shaney, help me out.”

Your brother doesn’t say anything other than an apology until you two finish the walk to Daryl’s tent.

“Why we here, anyway?”

“Gettin’ Daryl his toothbrush and things,” you mumble.

It’s when you bend to unzip the door that he crouches and puts his hand on your arm. “Y/N. I meant what I said yesterday. The three people I care about most in this world are you, Lori, and Carl.”

Your turn to lick your teeth. “And Rick.” You unzip the door flap and look for Daryl’s stuff to bring him. His pillow isn’t very clean-looking.

Shane doesn’t seem to acknowledge what you said when he goes on, “And I’d do anythin’ to keep you three safe.”

“And Rick,” you say again, more pleading. “Please help me understand what’s going on with you and him.”

He starts looking not quite at you, then at anyplace else.

“Tell me the truth,” you warn. “You’re lookin’ all around the way you do before you lie.”

“Rick nearly got Carl killed and nearly got you killed. Because of that, nearly got me killed, too, if it weren’t for Otis. And Otis’ death is ultimately on his hands, too, not mine.”

After saying Otis’ name, he has to swallow and close his eyes. He probably won’t ever shake the guilt that Otis sacrificed himself so Shane could get the respirator back.

And now, opposed to seeing in your brother someone unfamiliar and scary, right now you see him clearly, and see that he’s broken in two.

You want to understand better, but you don’t yet. With only a light stress-stutter, you ask “Why are you saying Rick did all that?”

His nose twitches. “I’ve learned that Rick can’t make the tough decisions. Tough decisions save lives.”

“Tough decisions?”

“If we had gone to Fort Benning, instead of the—the CDC?” His anger bubbles up. “C’mon, Y/N, what the hell was he thinkin’? Going to a government building in a city the feds themselves napalmed, to the goddamn Centers for Disease Control,” he mocks, smiling in bitter disbelief. “A place what had mile-high security even before the world fell apart.” He rubs his head again as he coughs, “Y/N, he took the whole group, he took his family, his wife and child, into Atlanta? He knew what the city was like, yet he chose that, risked us all, instead of someplace we knew would be safe.”

You stare at the ground and don’t know if you’re supposed to say anything or not, so you don’t.

Shane sounds less angry, but more disgusted. Jealous, too. “Lori ain’t my wife, Carl ain’t my son, but I kept them alive for Rick, in Rick’s honor.” Then, he quiets. “And because we loved them. I love Lori and that boy so m…” he trails off, knowing he’s just been very honest. The hard lines on his face soften, and his posture sinks just enough for you to notice. “Then, this asshole waltzes back alive, takes ’em on back.”

He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. “And now Jacqui, Sophia, and Otis; now three people are dead because of him and his choices. And look at you. After comin’ that close to getting shot as bad as Carl was, you’re out there breakin’ your body more and more every day on this goddamn wild goose chase for a dead little girl—you think I’m stupid enough to believe your stitches had to get ‘redone?’ I saw Carol washin’ your bloodstained shirts, Y/N, it—hell, and now, even Daryl almost died from this bullshit. All because of King Rick, his-his inability to—” He cuts off, finally exhales, then sinks his head in his hands and rests his elbows on his knees where he sits in the dirt across from you.

There’s an uneasy, sick feeling in your stomach, and your body feels weighed down.

“Please say somethin’, Y/N, anything.”

Unprepared, you stumble through, “I-I’m happy you, uh—it’s good you unbottled that.” You stare at the grass and wipe your eyes. “M’happy that you told me.”

“You’re happy I dumped all this shit on you?” he says in attempt to make light of something heavy.

You copy his attempt. “Better out than in.” After a few moments of silence, you then murmur, “I’m happy to share the weight, I love you.”

“Y/N.”

You raise your eyes to where he sits. He’s got the same lost look on his face you’ve seen a lot of in the past handful months after the world fell apart. Like that night at the CDC, when he’d broken down crying. When he’d escaped the hospital after trying to rescue Rick and thinking he’d died. When he’d come back with a respirator but without Otis.

“I know it’s wrong, blamin’ him.” He rubs the top of his head the way he does whenever he’s upset or thinking too much.

“That you know it’s wrong is a good thing.”

“I know I’m wrong,” he whispers. “But I don’t think it matters. Or that I care.”

“What do you mean?”

“If we wanna survive, we need to make hard choices.”

Your tone of voice bites. “Like Lori told you yesterday, it’s easy to cut losses and not help. Easiest damned thing, Shane, so that’s enough about ‘hard’ choices.”

He doesn’t snarl back. He barely reacts, in fact.

Voice gruff, he mutters, “I’ve slid, Y/N. Real far down. Done some awful things.”

“You can choose good ones next time,” you offer simply.

“Sometimes the good ones are awful things, if they mean savin’ lives.”

A twinge of dread roils in your belly. “Justifying wrongs make them worse.”

“You sound so damn naïve sometimes, kid.” He rolls his eyes before tucking his head between his knees. Yet, he next asks, “When does somebody get too far gone?”

“That limit doesn't really exist. Nobody’s past hope.”

You see his chest expand and deflate with controlled breaths. And you’re about to stand up and bring Daryl his things when he says in a low voice, “Y/N, tell me about the rope thing again. And the drowning thing, too?”

Your brow creases. He wants you to repeat those two scenarios?

“Okay,” you answer, even if uncertain why he suddenly wants to talk ethics.

First, you call to mind the details... “There are, um, people on a rope that’s hangin’ off a cliff. The rope is breaking and will break, and those clingin’ to the rope will all fall and likely die unless the person on the bottom drops off. Now, the person at the top of the rope or in the middle can’t drop off in the bottom person's place, ’cause that’ll knock off those below them anyway and lead to more death. And it ain’t fair, but for the person on the bottom, is it their moral obligation to let go. And it’s…” your throat goes tight again. You think you’re starting to understand why he asked you to tell him this.

Still, you go on: “It’s morally acceptable and, and even the duty of the person directly above the lowest person to get them off the rope in-in-in order to save lives—Shane, I don’t wanna finish.”

“The person above them can sever the rope, they can even kick the person off,” he says for you, but not in a prideful way. He’s quiet and somber, a thousand-yard stare in his eyes. To you, he says, “But this thing with Sophia, I ain’t saying Sophia was at the bottom.”

His demeanor lowers your defenses, and you finish the scenario. “Only because the rope will break and lead to more death unless the weight is lessened is why it's permissible for the bottom person to let go or even get pushed off, but only because the rope will break and this is known. What the other people or person above them on the rope cannot do is directly kill the person on the bottom in order to make them let go, even though the end result might will end up the same. To directly kill a person is not right and is always evil, even if the end result will be the same.” You try to remember the exact wording that you’d learned. “‘Direct killing is morally permissible only for cases of self-defense against a direct, real-time aggressor who is intendin’ to kill or grievously harm you or another.’”

Shane’s eyes are glassy, the lost, scared expression still clouding his face. “Repeat the drownin’ one, too? Please.”

He looks so sad.

“Two p-people are drowning, but one is, uh, climbin’ onto the other to keep their own head above water. The person being used as a life raft can and should fight off the person, because otherwise they will accidentally be drowned. What they can’t do is, y’know, like, shoot the other in the face or shove them into the jaws of a hungry shark.” Which was your inappropriate grasp at making light, ugh, that was in really bad form. “Sorry,” you apologize, then speak like a grown-up: “The person bein’ unwittingly drowned cannot hold the other guy underwater to drown them instead, even if it’s to get them to stop. ’Cause again, to directly kill is evil. Unless the other person is a direct aggressor because they want you dead or harmed bad, in which case it’s self-defense.”

He sniffs and takes a deep breath. Shane’s eyes don’t have that thousand-yard stare anymore, now they simply look pained.

“Y/N, I don’t feel like myself,” he admits under his breath. “I haven’t. Can hardly recognize myself sometimes, but it’s as if I…” He throws his hand up. “I know I’m wrong but still don’t think it’s wrong.”

“This about Rick, Sophia, or Lori?” you ask. "Or Otis?" pops into your mind and out of your mouth.

“All of it, I reckon, I-I don’t know, I can’t…” His hand cups his mouth and trails down to his chin. “What I want with Lori I know is wrong. Y/N, I keep tryin’ to convince myself she wants me, loves me. That I deserve them ’cause I’m better for her and him.”

The news about the new baby tears through your insides and scatters your thoughts. “She does love you, just not in that way. And that thing about ‘deserved,’ that’s gotta go, man,” you respond, not that it’s helpful.

Nodding, he grunts, “I know.”

“Not that that helps much,” you apologize. Shane used to go to your eldest sister for this kind of thing. They were closest with each other. But that line, that idea about ‘deserving’ them because he’s better for them…that’s bad, it’s very bad.

Then, from the campsite, you hear Andrea shout “Five minutes, Walshes!”

Neither of you speak as a warm breeze sweeps over the field and across the yard.

Your big brother looks to you as if he’s a small, scared kid.

“Y/N, what do I do?”

So, you tell him the most concrete advice you can think of. “You go check the highway. Do a quick sweep of your grid. Host target practice like you and Ricky have planned, teach me more fightin’ moves like you had planned.”

He’s nodding, lost in space. “What about tomorrow?”

You lift one corner of your mouth sadly. “Check the highway. Do a quick sweep of your grid. Target practice, chores, work out. Normal stuff. Take it one day at a time. Things’ll get better, or you’ll get stronger. Either way.”

Shane wipes his eyes and blinks away any trace of having gotten emotional. “This what you had to do all them times you wanted to die?”

A cold spreads from your middle. “Do you want to die, Shaney?”

“No. I don’t wanna die, hell no, I just—” he inhales, holds it, exhales. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on with me.” He massages his neck with one hand. “Y/N, it feels like I’m either another person or I’m going batshit.”

That he’s suffering isn’t good, but hearing him say that is, because it means that he sees the problem, too.

“I’d be more concerned if you didn’t think there was somethin’ off.” You swallow and make yourself say, “I trust you.”

Now he’s shaking his head. “I don’t even trust myself right now.”

“That’s why you have me, loser.”

Shane smiles a little when you tell him that. Next, he stands, and appears to lose himself in thought again as picks up what you grabbed from Daryl’s tent. Then he freezes.

He puts the things back down, and sits again. “Y/N, I may have to go for a little while.”

“Where, a fuel run?”

He clasps the back of his head. “Away.”

Away? “Where’s away?”

“Away. For just a while.”

Away as in…leaving?

“Because of this Lori thing? Shane, there’s—”

“—It’s…more complicated than that—” he interrupts, but you interrupt right back, “—B-Because of Rick, then? What?”

“Kettle off the burner, Y/N.”

You hold in what you were going to say and count to five.

It doesn’t do the trick. “Man the hell up and get it out of your system.We can’t leave them!”

“Not ‘we,’ me. I can. It’s just for a little while, honey.”

Now he’s calling you ‘honey?’ He only does that when it’s serious.

You try to smile and play it off as if he’s just confused and needs encouragement. “Don’t act so dramatic, loser,” you tease. “We don’t have to go. Things aren’t good in some ways right now, but th-they will get better.”

“Not ‘we’, ‘I’. I think I do. I’m serious, kid.”

“Well, I, if-if you go—Shane, come on, I can’t let you go without me.”

“You can.”

“Shane. Stop, I don’t like this.”

He doesn’t stop. “If the person on the bottom has get cut off or drop off so the rest won’t fall—”

“—That is not what that means and you know it!” you push back. What is going on?

He appears to check himself. “I’m sorry, I—” He holds up a hand. “Y/N, I think me leavin’ awhile is what needs to be done. Lori does, too—no, don’t say anythin’ else about it, we won’t get nowhere.”

“You don’t need to cut yourself off. We don’t need to cut you off. That, that scenario was for a literal life or death situation, not whatever’s goin’ on here.” It’s like you can’t inhale enough.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, you’re right,” he soothes. “But I do need to leave—”

“—No, if you get ‘cut off’ or, or jump or whatever, I’m jumping down with you. You get that, right?” you almost shout.

He shakes his head as if he pities you. “This is why I didn’t tell you before.”

“You’re fixing to blame me for my reaction to my brother deciding to cut himself off from his family and risk his neck, goin’ off alone,” you pause to inhale, “because of a bad breakup, when now dead people walk and eat the living?”

Catching your breath, you watch as your words hit home.

Briefly, he covers his eyes in what looks like shame, he winces, then makes a quiet apology and says, “I’ll give it time. Ain’t like I was planning to leave tomorrow.”

Your shoulders slump. “How long you been considerin’ this?”

The way he opens his mouth and closes it without speaking is the first warning. The second is how he begins by softly calling you,“honey,” again.

“I was plannin’ to leave…over a week ago. Been planning it awhile,” he confesses.

The words sink in while you sit and blink.

It’s the next thing he says that feels like a sucker punch.

“It got cancelled when Carl got shot, but now I think I gotta…anyway, Lori knew. Dale knew, too. Andrea.”

Noises turn fuzzy and your brain grows quiet. You exhale the breath you forgot about and cover your face with your hands. They all knew? Lori knew?

You regain yourself when your brother goes, “Honey, I’m sorry.”

“Shaney, you ain’t serious.” Not one of them mentioned this to you. Did they not care?

“I don’t think they knew you were in the dark about it,” Shane assures you as if he could read your thoughts. “What’s more is I don’t reckon they thought you’d come with.They wouldn’t want you to go.”

You force yourself to exhale again, you keep forgetting to breathe.

“I’m sorry.”

“I forg—no, this is too much, this is so much,” you finally burst into tears. “I’ll forgive you, but I-I need a few hours.” Inhale, exhale. “Shane, I am so fuckin’…hurt!” Stupid. You feel so stupid. Blind and naïve and stupid.

“Take your time. God knows I took mine in fessing up.”

You sniff as much as you can, seeing as Daryl most likely doesn’t have tissues in his tent.

Shane was planning to leave, and at least three people knew about it. But not you, his own family.

The man has fallen low. Betraying Rick and Lori wasn’t enough, not caring about Sophia wasn’t enough; turns out you’re also somebody he doesn’t care about.

Maybe him going away is best, the hurt part of you shrieks. Good riddance!

And once he learns about the baby, this whole Lori thing will blow up if you can’t defuse it, and you don’t think you will be able.

The question he asked you earlier replays in your mind.

“When does somebody get too far gone?”

���I don’t believe that limit exists, man. Nobody’s past hope.”

Goddamn, you’re so tired.

Head against your bent knees, you don’t care why he’s going into Daryl’s tent. You don’t care about what he’s holding out to you, either, and you move away from whatever it is.

“All he had was damp paper towels,” Shane murmurs. “Please, take one.”

“I’d rather blow my nose on your shirt, for all I care,” you hiccup.

Andrea calls your names again. “Y/N, Shane, time to go!”

You don’t move.

Shane doesn’t move, as much you can tell from where your face lies hidden on your knees.

And, like much of this past week, you didn’t see coming what would happen next, what Shane would do. That your big brother would be so...penitent? toward you that he quite actually would remove his shirt and hand it to you?

You blink in disbelief, then find yourself close to smiling. “I can’t actually blow my nose on your shirt, you goon.”

The chicken noises he makes change your mind.

“You dick, I’m gonna actually do it. Then I’ma burn it, I ain’t makin’ nobody clean up what’s in my nose.”

“It’s cool. I deserve worse.”

The word still rubs you the wrong way. “What you deserve is a redemption arc,” you sniffle, and then cannot help but add this minor dig, “And a week without a razor might would do you good, so you’d have to suffer through havin’ chest hair again.”

Shane quietly cracks up, then, yeah, you really need to wipe your nose, so you really use his shirt after he adds how it’ll help his guilt.

When you’re good, you twist your mouth at him. You’re still hurt to the bone, but it’s easing. “You were just aching for an excuse to strip, weren’t you?” you rib.

“Mmhm. Just need me an audience and some Boyz 2 Men in the background, and I’ll be all set.” Grinning at your gagging reaction, he holds out a hand to help you to your feet. And, once he’s picked up Daryl’s pillow and begins to walk back with you, he calls you by your nickname.

His expression looks sad again, and the way he asks makes it clear he wants advice. “What else can I do to get whatever this is out of my system? Do better?”

This is also unexpected, so you bend to pick up some wildflowers. Clover, Queen Anne’s lace, and some smaller yellow ones and some daisy-looking ones. Standing up, you lift your good shoulder in a shrug. “You know how it is, sometimes we gotta fake it ’til we make it.”

He’s asking you advice. His square little sibling.

“What’re the flowers for?”

“Otis. Gonna pop them on his cairn on the way back.”

A cloud seems to pass over him. There are a few moments where nothing is said as he follows you to the rock pile.

“I’ll act right about Sophia,” he promises softly.

Even though he’s admitting his wrongs, the upset flicks on again. You reimagine pulling a tea kettle off the heat before it starts to whistle. “And you’ll give Lori space, and get her out of your head.”

Your brother grunts in assent. “I will.”

“A lot of space, hear?” you mutter while plunking the flowers on the memorial and picking up the pace to get to the SUV. “And stop flirting when you see you’ve upset somebody, that’s the biggest part I didn’t get. She looked frightened, Shane, you had to have seen her back away and cower. Is that who you are now?”

“No,” leaps from his mouth, followed by a sober, quieter, “No.”

A loud clash that was most definitely the cooking pans that were stacked to dry on the chair sounds from the campsite. You hear Lori and T-Dog laugh as you get closer.

“When you used to get all sad, what did you have to do?” he wants to know next.

“For me, it was more of a wait until things leveled out. I had to go through the motions a lot, kept myself distracted. Got help, which was the key part.” You toss his old shirt into the campfire as you two pass it. Glenn stares at you very confused, prompting you to mime him taking off his shirt and tossing it into the fire, after which you look back at him as if questioning why he isn’t also burning his.

“Distractions, okay.Guess I’ll, um,” Shane thinks aloud. As you two pass the clothesline, he takes one of his off the line and pulls it on. “Guess I might will start doing daily runs again, while we got a safe place.”

You smile politely. That advice used to annoy you a bit, too. Exercise does help, though. “Nothin’ gets it all out of your system for a while quite like a run.”

“Mm, literal and figurative, dependin’ on how hard you run.”

You scrunch your nose and pout. “Ew.”

“As if you wouldn’t have made that exact joke if I hadn’t first, weirdo.” Shane lifts a corner of his mouth before he lets himself smile big. It looks like a real one.

The words replay again.

“When does somebody get too far gone?”

“That limit doesn't really exist. Nobody’s past hope.”

You let yourself smile a little, too.

“I’ll run these inside to Daryl, you and the girls hop on in the car, then we’ll roll. And,” he says loud enough that Carol can overhear from where she stands holding the ragdoll. “Ground rules: Sophia gets shotgun if we find her there today. Cool?”

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[lecreamiediaper]

So how does a little baby like you get 3 whole bananas up their bum? Also have you tried filling your diaper with anything else?

I tend to get them just as their starting to have spots, still firm but easily smooshed. But yeah the first one will have a bit of resistance, might have to break off the first little bit and push it up there. with that inside the rest of banana 1 and 2 go in with basically no hitch. the 3rd one require more effort but I tend to just lay there, get comfortable and let it naturally expand down there. I still feel full and all that but its not a desperate kind of need to go. After a while, maybe 20 min or so I get the 3rd one up there and i do it rather slow because oh dam if 2 make me feel full, the 3rd one makes me feel like I'm about to explode. I can easily hold the 2 bananas inside me for up to an hour. but that 3rd one makes it all the desperate, might have 5-10 min tops before I helpless explode into a waiting diaper. but the best part about 3 is I can easily hump my way into cumming with no problem whatsoever.

Now I'm not saying 3 bananas up your bum is exactly safe, but its what my dumbass has been doing and I might just have a really stretchy butthole on account of one time I was able to get my entire hand inside there like some Muppet. That and had an ex that fantasized about getting doubled up on and we got one of those clone a willies and she couldn't even take the smaller bits we got just to graduate her up to size, like we're talking my thumb size was the smallest. After we broke up she left all of them on my bed and its not like I was going to let them go to waste, and honestly, is it gay to get fucked by a replica of your own dick?

What was the question again? oh yeah, anyway I don't really like actually messing myself because of clean up and don't want to get a diaper rash because my horny heiny will be busy afterwards grindy and squishing that mess for awhile afterwards. but I have tried oatmeal before, wasn't really the firmness I was looking for when I went to squish my diaper.

[themomsandthecity]

I Love Being a Mom, but I Hate the Competitive Small Talk With Other Parents

"Is he running yet?" she asked as her daughter splashed around in the pool. "Charlotte is so fast now, I can't keep up." Charlotte is a loud, tiny girl in my son's swim class. The she, in question, is a random mom whose name I don't know. And my son? He's 1-year-old, has approximately three teeth, and he pooped in the bath yesterday then tried to eat it. So, no. My son is not running yet. I waved at my child as he threw my husband's glasses in the deep end before admitting that, no, my kid was not running. Right on cue, as if she got stage directions out of the "Small Talk for Parents 101" handbook, the nameless mom did the usual song and dance of, "Aww, it's OK! Let me tell you how my baby is slacking to pretend to make you feel better." But it didn't make me feel better. Instead, it reminded me why the worst part about being a parent is making competitive small talk with other parents. I wish I could connect with other new parents in a way that doesn't feel like a cut-throat competition between our babies. Sure, the stretch marks, leaky bladder, and lack of independence were all bummers when it came to becoming a mother. But I was somewhat aware that my body was going to change. The forced small talk with competitive parents, though? The ones who all think their kid is the cutest, smartest, and best? It's more exhausting than how my three-day induction was. It's hard to pinpoint which small-talk conversation is the most dreadful. Is it the comparison of how much iPad or screen time we allow? The judgmental questions about what my child eats? Or the bragging about how quickly their child learned to crawl, walk, read, or run? Not sure. But all of these conversations somehow have a way of making me feel like I'm not mom-ing well enough. I guess I just wish I could connect with other new parents in a way that doesn't feel like a cut-throat competition between our babies. It's like we're playing roles during these forced exchanges, hiding our true selves behind a façade of parental perfection. I crave mindless interactions that don't revolve around whose child has achieved what milestone or which parent has it hardest. I miss the days of talking about what shows we're watching, what plans we have, and what dreams we're chasing. Because the thing is, we might be raising autonomous people, but we're still autonomous people ourselves. Small talk as a parent is impossible to avoid. It's a part of the experience of pushing your child on a swing at the park or talking with another mom at a child's birthday party. But maybe we could find things to talk about that aren't comparing our children's milestones, and remind ourselves that there are topics in the world that don't revolve around diaper rash and diapers. Because if there's one thing I've learned after having a baby, it's that while parenthood is the greatest blessing, it's OK to still be our own people too. And really, we don't need to be comparing our child's successes to each other. My son will learn to run soon enough. Related: Hate Your Dog After Having a Baby? Here's What to Do, According to Experts --- Rachel Varina is a full-time freelance writer covering everything from the best vibrators (the OG Magic Wand) to the best TV shows ("The Vampire Diaries"). She has more than a decade of editorial experience with bylines at Cosmopolitan, Elite Daily, Betches, and more --- https://www.popsugar.com/family/small-talk-competitive-parents-essay-49351118?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[random-lyy]

HOW TO CHOOSE SAFE & BEST BABY PRODUCTS AVAILABLE IN MARKET

Every parent wants to give their baby a better environment with a whole new experience. They always want to do everything that will help their baby to grow without any obstacles. And it starts with choosing right products for them as the following:

CONSULT WITH BABY’S PEDIATRICIAN:  Before going to buy the food products for your baby, always remember to take doctor’s advice. They can tell which product will be chemical-free, has certain amount of required protein, fiber, calcium,

BATH PRODUCTS:  You have to keep it in your mind that your baby needs something mild, chemical-free for daily uses. For the shampoo and hair oil while taking care of these things it would be really great to test if it is suitable for your

CHOOSING THE DIPERS:  Do not go for the advertisement. Pick up the best diapers that will be comfortable for your baby. Choose the one which has soft cotton material and great absorbing quality, otherwise it can create rashes and itching in your baby’s skin.

FEEDING BOWLS:   Many says that it would be great to use silver bowl for feeding your child but there are a lot of foods that shouldn’t serve in the silver. So, I will to particularly suggest to use that cause it’s not important which type of material we are using. But the bowl or plate should be clean, hygienic and germ-free and do avoid plastic bowls because plastic is not the safest choice for you baby.

TOYS: Parents should be very cautions about toys before bringing it home. Do not go for furry soft toys because as the baby is growing, he/she will begin teething which is when you will buy a handful of chewing toys for your little one. Chew toys are mostly made with non-toxicmaterials. As the toys will be inside your baby’s mouth most of time, it will cause no harm for your child’s health.

While choosing which products will be the best for your baby always remember to buy from prestigious market and branded product. Your baby needs the utmost protection and parents should take the responsibility to keep your baby safe and sound. We all know parenting is not as easy as it sounds. It takes lot of carefulness and awareness. Here's my small knowledge which I shared. I hope it can be helpful and if you have many more things to know you can always talk to your doctor.

[warmaidensrevenge]

Eddie and Rosie

Papa!Eddie Munson x plus size reader

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

Thanks for reading the first chapter. Here's the next one. Hope you like it.

Warnings: Language, mentions of child loss, violence, and not proof read and no word count.

Summary: all things aside Eddie was happy you were around. But it seemed like you needed him and Rosie more than they needed you. And he would be more than happy to make the hurt in your heart go away as much as he could.

Chapter 2: Loss

🍼😢

After that night Eddie barely saw you. You had gotten voted into a new role in the Mills union. So during shifts and after work you were working with other union members on the upcoming years contract. Fighting for better wages and more vacations and sick leaves.

You worked so much that Eddie actually started to miss you. He literally waited by the phone with Rosie at exactly 7:59, because you would call every day at 8 when you couldn't see them. Just to say goodnight to Rosie. He could tell Rosie missed you too. Every time she was in her playpen that was set up in the living room, Eddie noticed that she kept looking at the door. His daughter was getting used to you being around. He didn't really know how he felt about that. He liked you, but as a friend. He wouldn't allow himself to have feelings for anyone. The only person he needed to focus on was Rosie.

Yes he noticed how beautiful you were. Your wide hips and plush thighs that rub together. How your stomach looked like the best pillow in the world. How your breasts looked like they would fill his hands perfectly. But he also noticed how you were so nice and caring. How you looked and treated Rosie as if you loved her how he loved her. It was weird but he really wished Tina would have been like you. Because you were a good mother and that was what Rosie needed. Her mom to treat her how you treat her.

He really didn't know how to feel about the situation as a whole. He wanted you around because he liked talking to you and you were so good with Rosie. On the other hand he wasn't sure if he was totally comfortable with you and Rosie getting so close. What if you left? What if you decide that being around Rosie made you miss your son too much? What if it hurts so bad that it causes you to backslide? He couldn't do that to you. You were way too important now.

...

One day Eddie was changing Rosie and he noticed a red scaly rash forming in her diaper area. He freaked out. He immediately called you and asked you to come over. It was a good thing too because you were at the pharmacy.

You came right away with ointment, and cold compress for her. You had Eddie explaining to you what it looked like over the phone so you knew it was a diaper rash. Well at least you thought it was.

" Have you changed your detergent?"

" Nope"

" Is there anything you've changed lately?"

" I don't think so." He said as he put the ointment on Rosie.

He pulled out a package of wipes and began cleaning her. You were outside his room waiting. Eddie looked down at the wipes. Those were different. He had ran out of the ones he usually got and picked these up from a gas station. He went to the door and handed you the pack.

" Just these"

You looked it over and saw it had fragrance.

" Eddie I think she's allergic to these" you said when Eddie went back to the room to dress Rosie.

He picked her up and went with you to the living room. Taking a seat on the couch.

" Babies can be allergic to them?" He looked worried.

" Yeah sometimes they can be allergic to the fragrance. Always get non-scented and sensitive ones. They are the best bet when it comes to that kind of stuff."

" Damn it! I really don't know what I'm doing. I'm such an idiot."

" No you're not. Don't say that. You wouldn't have known she was allergic until it happened. But you should definitely read up on some stuff."

You dug into your purse and pulled out a book. When you did that a pill bottle fell out. Eddie bent down to pick it up. He saw the name before handing it back to you. He didn't know you took Zoloft.

" Uhh thanks. Umm here I picked this up a while ago. There's a lot of good information in there." You said handing him the book and tickled Rosie.

Before he took it, Eddie handed Rosie to you because she was reaching for you.

He looked it over. " What to expect in the first year"

" Yeah. I'm surprised you didn't get one sooner." You said while playing around with Rosie.

He felt so stupid. He should have gotten one. But it never came to mind. " I swear there needs to be a book for dummies"

" There is one. But you're not a dummy. Huh princess? Your daddy isn't a dum dum." You looked at Rosie and she was just laughing away.

He loved hearing his daughter laugh like that. She only giggled like that when you were around.

" I doubt that. Umm do you want to come with me to get more wipes? Maybe food afterwards?"

" Sure. We can take my car. Want to drive?"

Eddie's eyes widened so big you thought his eyes were gonna pop out of his head.

" Are you serious?"

You giggled. " If you're scared that's ok. I know Shadowfax is a bit of a boat. But he's my boat."

" You named your car Shadowfax?!"

" Uhh yeah. He's fast like Shadowfax. I just wished the colors matched"

Eddie could have lost his shit right then and there. But he didn't want you to think he was a dork.

" No I think Shadowfax should have been shiny black like your car. But hey I'm not scared. Your car is badass."

" So you think you can handle him?"

" Most definitely."

You laughed and put Rosie in the car seat. Once she was in he beamed a smile at you. You tossed him the keys. He went to grab the car seat and you followed him outside. Eddie stood there in aww of your car. It was a beautiful all black 1967 4 door Chevy Impala with chrome rally wheels. It was his dream car well other than the Delorean.

He was so excited. He had been wanting to drive it since he saw it in the parking lot at work. Once Rosie was buckled, he got into the driver seat.

" Ready?"

" Onward Eddie. The adventure awaits us."

Eddie grinned and took off. He pulled up to the market and left you and Rosie in the car. When he came out you were in the back making her a bottle. He opened the door to placed the bag on the empty seat.

" Sorry she was hungry."

" Oh my princess couldn't wait for some fries huh?" He said giving her a kiss. Rosie just cooed in response.

He went back to the front and started to drive to the diner. Looking in the rear view mirror every once in a while. He couldn't help the smile on his face seeing you play with Rosie's little brown curls while you held her bottle for her. He loved the way you looked with her. Your eyes met for a second and you smiled. But when your smile instantly turned he looked at the road. A car came straight on, driving on the wrong side of the road. He tried to swerve but the car hit the passenger side.

When the car came to a stop Eddie was white knuckling the steering wheel. Breath hard, he turned around to see your body covering Rosie. He was shaking so bad that it took him a minute to get out of the car. He pulled the back door open and pushed you away to look at Rosie. When he saw that she was ok. He went to the other vehicle.

" ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I HAVE A BABY IN THE CAR YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

" Eddie stop!" You yelled.

He didn't acknowledge you. He was gonna kill that son of a bitch.

" Eddie don't. She's ok! Look she's ok!" You said jogging so that you were in front of him.

He wasn't looking at you though. He was looking at the guy who hit you guys stumbling out of his car. When Eddie saw the beer cans fall out with the guy. He saw red. He pushed you aside and ran to the guy tackling him.

" EDDIE!"

You watched in horror as Eddie beat the living shit out of the guy. You put Rosie on your hip and grabbed Eddie's wrist. He pushed you causing you to fall backwards. You tried to move Rosie as far away from the ground as you could. As you landed on the curb, you put your arm up to break the fall. A sudden excruciating pain filled your arm.

It was when Eddie heard Rosie cry that he finally stopped hitting the drunk driver. He turned to see you on the ground holding Rosie to your chest writhing in pain.

" SHIT! ARE YOU OKAY?!" He got up and went to take Rosie out of your arms.

He looked Rosie over and wiped blood off her face. He didn't see any cuts or anything. That's when he finally looked at you. The side of your face was cut up with little pieces of glass embedded in them. Tears rolled down your face as you held your arm.

" OH FUCK! Y/N I'M SO SORRY!" He sat down next to you.

Sirens could be heard in the distance. He held Rosie in one arm and held you in the other.

" Don't worry y/n. Help is coming."

...

He was in the emergency room waiting to hear about you about an hour after the accident. He had just gotten Rosie checked out when a police officer approached him.

" Mr. Munson. How are you?"

" We're ok."

" Good. Good. So I wrote a report, leaving out the part of the beating. I understand why you did it. I have a kid of my own. I would've done the same thing."

Eddie gave him a weak smile and held tighter to his baby.

" Umm the insurance company will need a copy of the report in order to make a claim. Also, did you know that the car seat was recalled for faulty buckles?"

Eddie looked down at Rosie.

" Yeah I bought the same one for my girl. So you don't want to use that anymore. Lucky for your daughter that Miss L/n was back there. The belt was broken when we did our inspection."

Eddie's eyes began to water. Seeing you cover Rosie like that saved her life.

" Mr. Munson, are you okay."

" uh yeah." He said wiping his tears away.

" It's ok son. All of you are alive."

Eddie nodded and kissed Rosie on her head. The officer handed Eddie a copy of the report and left. Eddie waited for what seemed like hours before the doctor came out to talk to him.

" Mr. Munson?"

" Yeah." Eddie said standing up.

The doctor came and motioned for him to sit down.

" Hello Mr. Munson. I'm Julie Krause. Your wife's doctor."

" Oh uh she's not my wife."

" Oh I'm sorry. Umm is there a family member here I can speak to?"

" N-no it's just me."

" I see. Well Mr. Munson I'm not allowed to give out any information about Miss L/n to anyone that's not in close relation to her."

Eddie didn't know what to do. He needed to know if you were okay. So he lied.

" Uhh she's her mom." He nudged towards Rosie.

" Oh ok. Well umm then it should be fine. So she has multiple lacerations on the right side of her face, a few bruised ribs and 3 fractures in her left forearm. But other than that she is completely fine. She's just getting a cast put on right now. She should be out in just a bit."

" Thank you."

" Cute little girl you have there. She has your eyes."

" Uhh yeah...she does."

The doctor took Rosie's little hand. " It's okay sweetie. Your mommy is going to be just fine."

Eddie gave her a thin lip smile before she left. Eddie felt awful for not checking on you after the crash. But felt even worse for pushing you. He didn't mean to hurt you. He just wasn't thinking. Eddie called his uncle to tell him what happened. That's when he saw you walking out. He hung up and went to you.

You gave him a small smile and and kissed Rosie on her hand.

" You ok princess?"

"She's fine are you okay?"

" Yeah I'm good. Just a little banged up."

" I'm so sorry Y/n."

" Eddie it's ok. I'm not mad. I don't know what I would have done if it was me driving."

Eddie hugged you kissing the crown of your head. " my uncle's coming to get us. He's gonna pick up a new car seat first."

" Okay. I'm gonna sit down."

Eddie followed you to a corner where there wasn't anyone close by.

" I'm really glad she's okay." You said holding Rosie's hand.

" It's because of you that she is."

" I just did what any person would do. It's not a big deal."

" Well it is to me."

You gave him a halfhearted smile. But he couldn't return it.

" If I would have just gotten the right baby wipes this wouldn't have happened. Your car wouldn't be totaled and you wouldn't be hurt right now."

" Stop it. It was an accident. This isn't your fault. The only person to blame is that guy."

" Still. I should have-"

"No Eddie" you cut him off. " Don't question yourself. You are a good dad okay. Don't ever doubt that. You are doing such a good job with her....just maybe stop the cussing. You don't want her first words to be S.O.B."

Eddie laughed. " Right if it's anything it would probably be S.H.I.T"

You giggled and held your ribs. Eddie's smile faded when he saw that. He sat quietly looking at you. You had been tickling Rosie's feet, making her giggle like crazy. Even though you were hurt you still were happy being around them. Eddie could feel something grow in him that he had to force away. He couldn't. He just couldn't fall for you. So he swore he wouldn't. Rosie had to be the only girl he cared about.

...

Over the course of a few weeks Eddie would go to your place and help with whatever you needed. Which wasn't much, because you did everything you could. With occasionally asking for help with opening a jar or two, you guys just hung out talking and trying to get Rosie to say dada.

Eddie had come over one night bringing the movie Lost Boys. He was so appalled that you had never seen it. As soon as you opened the door he handed you a bag of goodies and went straight to your TV with Rosie on his hip. You popped a bag of popcorn from the bag Eddie gave you and grabbed drinks. You had cut up some grapes for Rosie before you got comfy on the couch.

" Ready for this? It's so good. Wait til you hear Cry Little Sister." Eddie pressed play and sat on the opposite side of the couch.

" I'm ready good sir." You gave him a grin and chewed on a red vine.

But the moment he sat down Rosie started to whine and pointed at you. " No princess. Y/n is trying to watch the movie baby."

"Eddie sit closer to me. I'll hold her while you feed her grapes" you said finishing the licorice.

Eddie did so and helped you and Rosie get in a comfortable position. Once there Rosie was happily nuzzling her face into your neck. Eddie's heart skipped at the sight. He pressed his lips and started giving Rosie grapes. He accidentally grazed your chest but you didn't even notice. He saw you rest your head on Rosie's and it took his breath away.

He pushed those feelings away and tried to concentrate on the movie. When you leaned into him, his arm went up and around your shoulders out of instinct. He didn't want to move. But he had to.

" I uhh. I'm gonna go to the restroom really quick."

You nodded and leaned back. He got up and locked himself in the bathroom.

" Fuck. fuck. Nope. nope. Hey Vlad, you need to chill." He said under his breath talking to his dick.( He named it after Vladimir the Impaler) It was the smell of your hair that got a rise out of him.

He just had to smell it. You always smelled so good. But tonight your hair smelled incredible. It wasn't even the smell of shampoo that got him. It was weird. Like your pheromones or something. Whatever it was. He loved it.

After a minute he splashed cold water on his face and thought about the old lunch lady back in school. He pictured her naked and he was good to go. He looked at himself in the mirror.

"Don't. She's just your friend. Nothing more."

He took a deep breath and walked out. Rosie's head shot up from where she was resting it on your chest. She looked right at him.

"Dada"

Eddie froze and you sat up slowly.

"What did you say sweet girl?" The excitement in your voice brought Eddie back down to earth. " Who's that?"

" Da.da."

You looked up and met Eddie's wide eyes with ones of your own.

" Did she just-"

"Yes daddy. She did, didn't you princess?"

That threw him for a loop. He was now confused and horny at the same time. He kept repeating the lunch lady's name just to stop from growing. But Rosie kept saying Dada and he just went to you two. He kneeled down and kissed Rosie's cheek. He found your beautiful eyes staring at him. There was a moment. Just a second that he thought. Maybe. But he kept hearing ' Don't. She's just a friend'

Rosie said it again, breaking the stare off. You handed her to Eddie and he lifted her into the air spinning her around.

" That's right princess. I'm your Dada."

...

Since you couldn't work until your arm was healed you offered to watch Rosie so that Eddie didn't have to pay a baby sitter. He agreed but he would still leave money for you on the counter though. But every time he got home he would find it either in the diaper bag or in Rosie's pockets.

He decided to surprise you with dinner to thank you for everything. He got Erika to come over to watch Rosie for a few hours. He showered and got dressed while Erika sat in the living room playing with Rosie.

" Alright Sinclair. How do I look?"

Erika looked up and gave him a once over. " Spin around."

Eddie did a small circle with his arms out dropping his hip as he came to a stop.

" Ehh not half bad. But I thought it was just dinner."

" It is just dinner."

" Sure....then why are you dressed like you're going on a date?"

Eddie looked down at his button up and slacks. The only thing that actually resembled him was his Reeboks.

" I should change right?"

" Uhhh yeah...not unless you want to give her the wrong idea."

" Wrong idea?"

Erika scoffed. " Really Eddie? 21 years old with a baby and you still can't tell what's going on between you two?"

" There's nothing going on Sinclair. Y/n is just my friend."

" Yeah right. Whatever you say." Erika looked back to Rosie.

He wanted to argue but he didn't want to be out too late. So he went to change into some faded black jeans with his only good white shirt that didn't have any stains on it. He grabbed his black leather jacket and kissed Rosie goodbye.

" Erika I'm trusting you with my offspring. Don't give her any-"

" Pop because she won't sleep. And don't let her touch any outlets." Erika said while rolling her eyes.

" Hey remember....have fun ok. But not too much fun."

" Munson if you don't leave. I will."

" uhhh. Bye princess. I'll see you later." He gave Rosie one last kiss and headed out.

He had picked up a pizza and a bottle of wine. He knocked on your door and heard music playing. But after a minute you didn't come to the door. He knew you were home because the lights were on in one of the rooms. He kept on knocking. But you didn't come. He pulled on the handle but the door was locked. He went to the window to look and see if you were in there. The blinds were slightly open. He saw you in a rocking chair holding what looked like a teddy bear. He could see that you were crying. He knocked on the window. You looked up wiping your tears away. You got up and pulled the blinds back. He lifted the pizza and the bottle of wine. You nudged your head to the door. Eddie heard the music being turned off before you answered.

" Hey Eddie. What are you doing here?"

" I wanted to surprise with you dinner?"

"Oh. Uhh. Please come in."

Eddie followed you and set the pizza and wine down on the counter.

When he turned around you were there handing him a tape.

" umm I saw this in the record store the other day and thought of you."

" Uh thanks." He looked at the cassette. It was Black Sabbath's new album. " Oh shit! I was just going to buy this. Hey...How did you get there?"

" The bus."

" You should have called me. I would have taken you."

"No. I can get around. It's just a broken arm. I'm not handicap. Besides Rosie was sick. No way was I gonna ask. You needed to be with her. How is she by the way?"

" She's good. Much better now. How are you?" He asked because he had just seen you crying.

You turned and went back to the room. He followed you. You were standing in a room that Eddie never saw in before. The door was always closed when he went over. The walls were a powder blue color. There wasn't much in there. Just a rocking chair with the teddy in it, a crib and a small dresser.

"He would have been a year today."

Eddie's heart broke for you. He didn't know that. He didn't even know his name. He has known you for 3 months. And in those 3 months you only brought him up once. But not to him. Just to Rosie.

" Y/n?" He spoke softly. " What happened?"

You didn't look at him but he knew you were crying again. Your voice broke a little as you spoke.

" I don't know... Bastian was just sleeping. He was fine all day.... I had just put him to sleep....I woke up around 2:30 like I always did to feed him. And .... He was cold.... An-and i tried...I tried to warm him up, but...he wasn't breathing and-and I tried to wake him. I-i gave him CPR....But he just didn't wake up. Eddie....he was so cold. I-i should have known....I should have known not to lay him on his stomach."

Eddie went to face you. " Hey hey. No. Come here." He pulled you in his arms and let you cry into his chest. " You couldn't have known y/n. How could you? It's not your fault."

" I should have Eddie."

" No sweetheart you can't blame yourself. Please don't do that. You are a good mom. I know you are. You didn't do anything wrong...please...please stop crying."

" I just...I can't."

Eddie pulled you out of the room and led you to your bedroom. Laying down and pulling you so that your head rested on his chest.

" I'm never gonna see him grow up. I won't see him graduate or-or walk him down the aisle."

" Shhh. Don't think about it right now. Just let me hold you. It's okay. It's going to be okay."

Eddie couldn't help crying too. But he tried hard to remain silent. He couldn't imagine what you were feeling. Heaven forbid if he lost Rosie. But if he did, at least he would have his uncle. You though, you had no one. No one to help ease your pain. No one to tell you it wasn't your fault. But he was there now. He and Rosie would be a part of your life whether you wanted it or not. Even though he knew you would. He wasn't gonna let you go through this alone anymore.

After a bite, your cries turned into soft whimpers. Then it stopped completely. Eddie could hear your stomach growling.

" Come on sweetheart. Let's eat."

" Okay. I'm just gonna freshen up real quick."

You got up and went to the bathroom. Eddie asked through the door if he could use your phone.

" Go for it. Make yourself at home."

Eddie went to call home and his uncle answered.

" Hey old man. What are you doin' home?"

" My machine broke down so they let me clock out early."

"Oh cool. How's Rosie?"

" She's good. She's watching TV with Erika."

" Okay. Umm I might be a little longer than I had planned. Uhh.." he began to whisper. " It's her son's birthday."

" I see....Stay as long as you need too. I'll take Erika home."

" Yeah? Great thanks"

" Want me to bring Rosie?"

" I don't think that's a good idea." Eddie said when you came out and stood in the kitchen.

" Umm could you watch her for a while?"

You shook your head and motioned for him to bring her here. Mouthing it was ok.

" You know what? Nevermind. You can bring her. Y/n wants to see her."

You gave Eddie a small sweet smile. He watched you turn around and pulled out a couple of plates and cups.

" Are you sure son? You don't think it will be too much for her?"

" Yeah it's fine. You know I don't like being away from her that long on my days off." He tried to play off his worries for you.

"Ok. Be there in 20."

Eddie hung up the phone and saw you pouring wine.

" Are you sure it's ok that she comes?"

Your eyes met his. " Yes Eddie it's ok. I miss her."

Eddie nodded.

" I'm sorry Eddie the pizza went cold. I'm just gonna pop it in the oven for a few."

" No it's cool. I actually like cold pizza."

" Really? Huh....Me too. I don't know what it is. But it just tastes so much better."

"Right!"

You guys ate after Wayne dropped off Rosie.

"Look at you sweet girl. You're getting too big too fast."

Rosie smiled when she saw you. Her one tooth peaking through. After dinner Rosie was so sleepy that you and Eddie laid down in your room with her in the middle. Rosie was fighting her sleep but you rubbed her tummy and she knocked out.

" How did you do that? Are you some sorta enchantress?"

" Please...I'm more of a rogue ranger...I uhh just noticed she likes the contact. Next time she cries just rub her back Or massage her feet. Or so this." You grabbed his hand and guided his fingers to massage Rosie's tummy.

Eddie was surprised by the things you had in common. Your hand was small and soft and warm. It was such a contrast to his big callused hands.

" That's it. Do it just like that." You pulled your hand away and let him do it on his own.

Eddie saw you close your eyes. And before he knew it he was hearing yours and Rosie's soft moans. He smiled to himself. This was what he always wanted since Rosie was born. In this moment, he was happy that it was you laying with him and Rosie and not Tina. He and Rosie needed you. But he didn't know until now. That you needed them too. He went to sleep hoping there would be more nights like this. And maybe, just maybe he could let himself feel what he has been ignoring.

...

@salenorona23 @b-irock @browneyes528

[sailorwritesstuff]

𝕊𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖?

Mirabel Holds Baby Antonio in her arms for the first time and feels a warm feeling in her chest that she won't understand until she's older.

Acknowledging that I know that these two now have canonical birthdays but I don't give a fuck they were born in October because I said so

Warning: talking about labor, familial affection(Eskimo kisses), the phrase "falling in love" used in a platonic way. (Proshippers literally fuck off and dni)

On October 13th, after hours of painful pushing, loud yelling, and an odd mix of weather including: a simultaneous rainbow, heavy winds and a rough flood, Antonio Madrigal was welcomed into the world by his parents Félix and Pepa.

Pepa was ecstatic as she held him in her arms. "hola bebe tonito, yo soy tu mamá." She whispered, holding him close to her chest pressing a soft kiss to his head. The sun shone brighter than it had in months and the rainbow became more vibrant. When the rain finally stopped Mirabel Madrigal knew… she had a new Prima. There was no doubt in her mind it was a girl, she could feel it in her little bones.

She waited patiently as her mother exited her Tia's Room. "Mama! Can I see her?"

"Oh Amor, i'm sorry you just missed her, your Tia just went to bed."

"Not her." Mirabel frowned. "the baby."

"Oh...OH hija, he's a very cute and very healthy baby boy." Julieta explained ruffling her hair. Mirabel's entire world crumbled around her. There was no new Prima to play dolls with like she used to with her hermanas. She clenched her fist in frustration and huffed. "Oh ok... I'll get to see him later I guess." She turned on her heels and walked back to her room.

It was lonely and quiet like always before the first time in a long time she didn't seem to mind. Soon she wouldn't be alone anymore. Soon she and her primo were going to be best friends.

It took Tia Pepa and baby Antonio three days before they started moving around the house. Meaning 3 days before Mirabel laid eyes on baby Toñito. Her eyes widened in wonder at his small frame. He was a very quiet baby, he hardly cried and was very curious. It wasn't rare to see his little eyes wander around at all the new faces.

For The following two weeks while everyone else went to do their chores it was just Mirabel, Pepa, Antonio, and Félix around the house. Pepa kept Antonio pretty close to her at all times, it was even rare to see Felix holding him

Still Mirabel had the chance to watch Antonio's sleep everyday. She would observe how his little fingers curled while he dreamed away oblivious to everything bad in the world. She blissfully stared into his crib until her Tia came and shooed her away complaining that "you did this everyday" and "you're going to wake the baby." But she never told Abuela so Mirabel kept coming back.

Sooner than anybody anticipated the two came to an end and Tia Pepa was okay to go back to chores taking Felix with her. Leaving just the two of them.

Mirabel sat patiently in her Tia's yellow armchair as she listened to her lecture that morning. She would always remember how frantic she was that morning, throwing her red hair into its usual low braid and fidgeting with her large golden sun earrings to get them to go back into her ear. "Listen Mirabel. You can NOT leave Toñito alone. Ever. You understand. Try not to go up and down the stairs. You need to feed him 4 times today, after we leave, before we come home for lunch, after his nap, one more time when you're mama comes home to cook dinner. Got it?"

"Si! I got it!"

"Make sure you change his diaper." She sighed checking herself in the mirror flattening the wrinkles in her dress and glancing over to Antonio waking up in his crib. "Don't let him get a rash. And please just... don't mess up today Mirabel. I don't want to put him with a village babysitter."

Mirabel shrunk further into her seat. 'Right. don't mess up.' she frowned, now suddenly nervous.

"Mirabel." Pepa snapped her fingers. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes! Yes. Change his diaper, don't mess up. Got it."

"Alright. He's awake now. You can take him, I've got to go or I'll be late." She tugged on her shoe, kissed baby Antonio leaving a soft peach colored kiss mark on his forehead, and scurried out leaving Mirabel in the weather themed room.

Just the two of them.

"Hi Antonio. I'm your prima, Mirabel." She slowly approached him nervously. "Can you say Mirabel?" She didn't get anything back but the babbling of a newborn baby.

"That 's ok hombrecito. Come on, let's go have breakfast." She stands up on the little step stool left behind for Camilo so she can reach down and pick up the little baby.

She grabbed the bottle of milk left prepared for her from the stand behind the chair. Climbing into the large piece of furniture and cradling her primo close to her chest. She put the bottle up to his lips Just like she'd seen her tio do every time it was his turn to feed Antonio. She watched him carefully observing everything about him now that he was so close to her. For the first time she could see that he had small freckles like his older brother that you could just barely see when his face was in the light because of his darker skin, He had come out with tufts of curly hair that looked so soft She wanted to touch it, His face was very round and his eyes were large and Brown much like Dolores's. He was perfect. "You know, even though I wanted a prima I'm glad I got you, Toñito." Her stomach swirled and her heart clenched as he looked at her when she called his name like he understood her but she knew he didn't. She couldn't place what it was she was feeling yet but she knew one thing

"We're going to be best friends. And I'm going to protect you. always. Even if you don't get a gift like me. You'll never be alone. Ok?" She stared at him intently the two of them making weird eye contact as he finished his bottle

"Bleh." Antonio burped. Mirabel blinked, processing what he had just done before she let out a loud giggle falling in love with his big blank eyes staring back at her.

"Eww Antonio. Rude." She turned him around in her arms, placing the bottle back on the side table and held him in front of her. "We're definitely going to be good friends." She put her nose to his affectionately, giving him the same eskimo kisses her papa gave her. "Forever me and you, hombrecito."

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 9}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Shelby’s blogs! >> @snelbz​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

A/N: SURPRISE. Enjoy this chapter a day early. I had my days wrong and legit thought it was Thursday, but since it was ready…. Y’all get to enjoy the spoils of my frazzled brain. 😘

Nesta waited with Nyx in the waiting room of the pediatric office.

His rash didn’t seem to be bothering him much, but she wanted to get ahead of it before it became a problem. He was absolutely enamored with the TV playing a bright children’s show in the corner, and Nesta couldn’t help but smile down at him as she checked her email.

The usual stuff greeted her, some open catering order invoices for the restaurant, a few wayward resumes from high school kids that had managed to get her personal email, and, of course, spam.

“Nyx?”

Nesta’s head shot up, and Nyx began looking around, wondering who had called his name. Nesta was instantly on her feet, pushing Nyx’s stroller toward the door that the nurse held open.

She smiled. “Hello, Nyx.”

Nyx babbled in greeting.

The nurse chuckled. “Such a cute little guy. You’re Nesta, I assume?”

“I am,” Nesta confirmed. “I’ve not been here before. It’s a nice office.”

The small talk went on. Nesta had never been a fan of small talk, of polite pleasantries.

It just made her feel awkward.

Nyx didn’t seem to mind. He just kept babbling and babbling and babbling, without a care in the world.

The nurse led them into a room and she checked Nyx’s height and weight before telling them that the doctor would be there shortly.

Nesta had picked Nyx up, looking around at all the educational posters on the walls, when a quick knock sounded on the door and a man cracked open the door.

Nesta blinked once as he stepped inside, not expecting the tall, muscled man that appeared in front of her.

“You must be Nesta,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Dr. Kamaras.”

This man was Nyx’s pediatrician? She had known that Nyx’s doctor was male, Feyre had mentioned him in some stories a few times, but Nesta had always pictured an elderly man.

Not this sculpted, handsome man, who could easily graced the cover of one of the ridiculous smutty books she kept well hidden in her bedroom.

She shook his hand, finally remembering how to speak. “Yes, I am, it’s nice to meet you.”

Very nice to meet you, she added in her head.

His face sombered. “I was very sorry to hear about Rhys and Feyre. They were great people.”

And just like that, Nesta was back on earth, holding her sister’s son in her arms, standing where her sister should have been. She tried to keep her smiling from dimming, but she cleared her throat. “Thank you. It’s…been an adjustment.”

As if they both remembered why they were here, Dr. Karamas blinked and said, “Yes, Nyx, right. You told the nurse he has a rash of some sort?”

“It’s just a diaper rash but it seems to be getting infected,” Nesta explained. “I’ve tried a few different things but nothing seems to be working.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “Well, let’s take a look.”

Dr. Karamas took one glance and whistled. “Definitely infected. I’m going to give you a steroid cream. Put it on after every diaper change. It should clear up within the week.”

Nesta let loose a breath. “Oh, great, thank you.”

“Absolutely,” he smiled.

He had a nice smile.

He scribbled something down on his clipboard, signed it, and handed it to Nesta. “The number on the bottom is my office number. If you have any other concerns, no matter how small, give it a call.”

Nesta looked at Nyx’s prescription and the number that was beneath it, along with his name.

Balthazar Karamas.

“Thank you, Dr. Karamas,” Nesta said, and she meant it. She was still new at this, and every little medical thing concerned her.

If it wasn’t normal, she was freaking the fuck out.

“Bal, please,” he said, taking her hand again, shaking it. At the look on her face, he added, “I work with kids. They do better on a familiar name basis than with titles like doctor and mister.”

She nodded, smiling. “Bal, then.”

Nesta was getting Nyx resituated in his stroller in the waiting room, about to head back out into the bright sunlight, when she felt someone approach. She wasn’t expecting to find Balthazar standing a few feet away. She quickly checked the stroller, making sure she had her purse, the diaper bag, and, of course, Nyx himself. “Did I forget something?” She asked, finding everything exactly where it was supposed to be.

“No, no, it’s not that,” he said, pausing in front of her. “I just…can’t shake the feeling that I know you from somewhere.”

It was strange, since Nesta felt the same way.

“You’re not Illyrian,” he said, and it wasn’t a question, nor was it rude. Just an assumption. She only knew of a few other Illyrians in the area, and Balthazar definitely had the same coloring as Cassian and Az. And Rhys used to have. She, pale skinned and blue eyed, certainly did not.

“I’m not,” she said, at last.

Bal chuckled.

That smile, yet again, had her toes curling.

“Interesting,” he said, that smile remaining. “Well, maybe we can figure out just where we’ve run into each other before...over lunch this weekend?”

Nesta blinked. A date?

“Not a date,” he said, quickly, reading her mind. “I would never ask the aunt of my patient on a date. That would be incredibly unprofessional.” Nesta laughed. “Just…two acquaintances figuring out where they were previously acquainted.”

“Lunch sounds nice,” Nesta said, unable to shake her own smile. “Saturday, then?”

“Saturday,” Bal agreed.

They set up a time and place and then Nesta was out the door.

*

Cassian’s day had been as long as it was the day before. It seemed that the teenagers visiting Velaris had gotten the message from their friends that Cassian’s bar was checking every single ID of every single drink that was ordered. So instead of being slammed and busy and frustrated the whole day, he had been bored out of his mind.

He’d gone through his inventory sheets twice, ordering anything they might remotely run out of in the next few weeks.

It didn’t help that Kallias had the day off, covering the evening shift tonight, leaving him alone with his thoughts all day.

And those thoughts constantly reminded him that he’d been an absolute dick to Nesta the night before.

As he drove home, he contemplated the apology he needed to make.

Although Cassian believed his intentions were typically good, apologizing wasn’t one of his strengths. He ran through what he’d say a hundred times, had come up with an unbearable amount of ways in which he could apologize, but everything he thought of wasn’t good enough.

He knew Nesta well enough to know when she would laugh in his face.

He’d come up with about fifteen different scenarios of how this could go by the time he pulled into the driveway, parking next to her little car. He took a deep breath before unlocking the front door and letting himself in.

The house was quiet, neither Nesta or Nyx were anywhere to be found. It was barely six-thirty, but he knew Nesta was taking Nyx to the doctor earlier in the day, which may have tired him out so thoroughly that he was already down for the night. A peek into his cracked bedroom door confirmed it, his little hand curled next his face as he slept.

When he finally tracked down Nesta, on the back patio, her feet propped up in a lounge chair, he definitely hadn’t expected to find her with a bottle of wine. Or what was left of it, at least.

The mostly empty bottle of wine sat next to the baby monitor.

He cleared his throat, announcing his presence.

Nesta’s sigh was the only acknowledgement she showed.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

She shrugged and took a sip from her glass.

“Bad day?” He continued.

She shrugged again.

“Is this the silent treatment?” He asked.

“I assume you’d know,” she said.

Cassian began rubbing his temples. “Look, Nesta-.”

“I’m a little busy if you don’t mind,” she continued. “I prefer to relax alone.”

“This is my house, too,” he said, shutting the sliding door behind him as he made his way onto the patio. “What if I want to sit out here with you?”

“Then I’d suggest continuing the silence,” she said, not looking at him, her face tilting back up to the sky, where it had been when he’d come outside.

So he sat down on a nearby lounge chair, and didn’t say a word.

Or he tried, but he didn’t last five minutes. The words that had building inside him all day needed to come out. He’d rehearsed different things he wanted to say, with reasons for why he was such an asshole, and promises to try and be better from now on. But as he looked over at her, the starlight on her face, all he could get out was, “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Nesta said nothing. “About?”

“The way I acted last night,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the lawn. “It was uncalled for, and I’m sorry.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said, draining her glass.

Cassian’s eyes shot her direction. “I’m trying to apologize. You can at least accept my apology so we can move on.”

“Apologies mean nothing,” Nesta said, shrugging. “Words are meaningless.”

“Not mine,” Cassian argued. “I mean what I say.”

“Then you meant what you said last night?” Nesta pushed.

Cassian’s lips snapped shut and his jaw hardened. “No.”

“So, you’re a liar, then?” Nesta asked.

He groaned in frustration. “You’re infuriating.”

She didn’t deign to reply to that.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I was an asshole last night. I was…embarrassed about how you found me the night before. I don’t… I don’t like to be seen like that.” He paused, but then he held a hand out in between them. “Not- not that that happens often. I mean, I don’t make a habit of having emotional breakdowns.”

She didn’t say anything. Just stared at him.

He cleared his throat again, remembering little things he had felt badly about through the day. “Nesta, I’m sorry I acted like an ass. I’m sorry I didn’t appreciate the dinner you made me. I was rude as hell and you did nothing to deserve it.”

After a second, she glanced away, out over the pool. He figured she wasn’t going to reply, and he stood, heading back for the back door.

He had slid the door open and was halfway inside when she said, “If you’re hungry, I made lasagna for dinner. It should still be warm on the stove.”

He turned back and found a hint of a smile on her face. “Thanks, Nes.”

*

A continuation of his apology, Cassian had told Nesta he'd be on baby duty for the rest of the night, waking Nyx up for his bottle, granting her leave to do whatever she wanted. She elected to finish off the bottle of wine, open another, and relax in the bathtub with a book.

The book of choice was definitely not appropriate to read in front of Nyx.

Or Cassian, for that matter.

She had appreciated his apology, even though a part of her still wanted to be pissed. There were very few things that agitated her more than male bravado, and Cassian was the spitting image of it. Embarrassed because he was emotional? Please. Get the fuck over it.

Then again, she could say that all day, but in honesty, if the positions were reversed, she would have reacted very, very similarly.

If not worse.

Nesta had always felt too much, far more than either of her sisters. It wasn’t like they were robots, of course. Elain had a bigger heart than anyone Nesta had ever known, and Feyre had been a light to be around.

But, Nesta…

She felt it all, and she felt it far too deeply. She had learned long ago to shut those emotions off, to let them go, to not let her emotions show. They could just be used as a weakness.

And she found life worked better that way.

There was a soft knock on the bathroom door.

Nesta sat up straight, even though the door was locked, in a sudden panic over the fact that she was nude and reading smut.

“Yeah?”

“Nyx is going to bed,” he said. “Just thought you’d want to say goodnight.”

“I- Ah- Just a minute,” she called, setting the book down and reaching down to grab for her towel. She was out and damn near opened the door in just her towel again, but remembered their agreed upon rules. She snatched her robe, wrapping it around herself, towel and all.

She opened the door, Cassian standing just by her bed, and Nyx had his head resting on his shoulder, rubbing his little eyes.

The image was so pure and innocent that Nesta couldn’t stop herself from taking a few steps towards them, reaching out to brush her fingers down Nyx’s soft cheek. “Sweet dreams, buddy,” she breathed, leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead.

She regretted it almost immediately, as bringing herself that close in Nyx also inadvertently brought her to Cassian. His heady, nutmeg-and-campfire scent enveloping her, reminding her of the morning she’d come downstairs and found him as naked as she was now. She stepped back quickly, clearing her throat. “And goodnight to you, Cassian,” she murmured. She pointed back behind her towards the bathtub, towards her book, and said, “I’m going to read a little longer and then go to bed myself.”

He nodded. “Alright, I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Nes.”

The nickname didn’t bother her as much as it previously had, she realized as he made his way back out of her room, shutting the door behind him.

She didn’t let herself think about that, did her best not to think about him, as she sunk back into the warm water.

*

Nyx had gone down easily for Cassian, for the first time ever, thanks to the frozen toy he’d gnawed on to relieve the pain of his incoming tooth. He’d decided he deserved a treat, too, after that, and had sat down to watch the hockey game, a beer in hand.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at the front door.

Cassian paused, glancing down at his watch, seeing that it was pushing nine o’clock. He stood, after a second knock sounded, making his way to the door. He opened it to find a woman dressed in a suit on the other side. “Can I help you?”

“Mr. Nazari, I assume?” She asked, extending her hand.

He took it, on instinct, shaking it, but he blinked. He repeated, “Yeah… Can I help you?”

Her brows twitched together. “My name is Alis Birch. I’m with social services.”

Cassian continued to shake her hand, staring.

“The courts told you we’d be making random visits to check in on Nyx,” she continued.

Oh, fuck, Cassian thought. Oh, fucking hell.

They’d completely forgotten about those random visits, in the past few weeks they’d been doing this, distracted by getting used to not only being parents, but getting used to each other as well.

“I see,” Cassian said, nodding. “I… I’ll…be right back.”

“I’d like to come in-.”

Cassian shut the door, quickly set his beer on the table in the entryway, and hauled ass upstairs.

He threw open the door to Nesta’s bedroom, only to found it empty, so he continued on, throwing open the bathroom door.

Where Nesta was still in the tub, completely nude, a book in hand, one hand disappeared beneath the water. Her head was thrown back in utter ecstasy.

Until Cassian barged in, anyway.

“Shit!” he yelled, just as Nesta gasped and sent the water sloshing out of the tub, over the porcelain edges.

Cassian quickly shut the door behind him, closing them into the bathroom together, and put his face in his hands. “Sorry!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she yelled, and he could hear her pulling the plug.

“It’s important, I swear,” he said, his voice muffled by his hands.

“If the house isn’t on fire or Nyx isn’t dying, it’s not important,” she cried, ducking behind the walls of the tub.

“It’s pretty fucking important,” he said, turning to give her a semblance of privacy. He heard her stand up, water moving and quiet dripping, before her feet landed on the rug outside the tub. “The social worker is here.”

She froze and he dared a look back at her. Thankfully, she was wrapped in her towel again, one arm pushed through her robe. “The social worker is here? Now?” He nodded, and she looked at the nearly empty bottle of wine next to the glass on the small table by the tub. It was the second one she’d had that night. “But it’s late,” she protested.

“It’s a random, surprise visit,” he replied. “I left her outside, but-.”

“You didn’t let her in?” Nesta demanded, eyes widening. “Cauldron, Cass, that makes us look so guilty.”

He blinked. “Of what?”

“I don’t know,” she said, throwing her hands in the air. “But it doesn’t make us look good.”

“Well, I didn’t know what to do,” he sighed, exasperatedly. “I sure as hell wasn’t expecting to come up here and find you doing that.” He gestured to the tub.

Nesta’s cheeks heated. He figured his own were going to permanently be the shade of red they were now.

No, that was the last thing he ever expected to catch Nesta doing.

“Just… Go let her in and stall her while I get dressed,” she sighed, crossing her arms, waiting for him to leave.

Cassian hesitated, then nodded, and hurried back down the stairs. When he reopened the front door, Alis Birch stood there. Her expression was hard, intimidating.

Cassian could feel himself sweat.

He prayed that Nesta somehow sobered up and got the fuck downstairs, because there was no way in hell he could do this without her.

[jacksdinonuggets]

Post-Workout

Summary: After training with Carmilla, Vaggie is exhausted. so much so that it makes her clingy and little. Luckily, Charlie is available to take care of her.

Notes: definitely didn't write this because i was yearning for a caregiver to talk to after Hockey practice

Charlie was busy writing down ideas and plans for the hotel on her clipboard as she sat on the couch next to the window that overlooked hell. It was an easy day. Nothing important was going on. The residents all had their own free time to do as they pleased.

Vaggie was training with Carmilla and her daughters. Every Sunday she would spend 2-3 hours learning how to fight from her mentor. It was pretty fun but also very useful. She needed to become the strongest she could be in order to protect Charlie. So unless the world was literally ending, she wouldn’t miss their practice for anything.

As Charlie took a long sigh and looked out the window, the door to her room opened. In the doorway was Vaggie, looking exhausted. She shuffled her way over to Charlie.

“Hey, Hun! How was-” Charlie was cut off when Vaggie suddenly collapsed in her arms and curled up. The princess was a bit worried but realized that she wasn’t badly hurt.

“Wan cuddles…” The tired girl mumbled. Carmilla worked her extra hard that morning and during her training, she was running purely on adrenaline because she barely got any sleep the night before. So now that the adrenaline rush was over, her body was not feeling good. The exhaustion caused her to become clingy and made her yearn for her mama to take care of her.

“Aw, is my baby tired~?” Charlie asked

“Mhm,” 

Charlie rubbed her back but stopped once she smelt her. Obviously, Vaggie wouldn’t be smelling nice, as she just worked out. Her hair looked a bit greasy and wet which probably didn’t feel very good. So the princess picked her up and carried her to the bathroom.

“Mama… wha you doing?” Vaggie asked, opening her eye

“Mama’s gonna give you a bath before we cuddle.” Charlie turns on the water and plugs the drain of the tub. Once she makes sure it's the perfect temperature, she helps wiggle Vaggie’s smelly workout clothes off of her. Vaggie whines, wanting to cuddle more.

Once the tub is full, Charlie pours in some special salts that should help Vaggie’s muscles from getting sore. She also makes sure to add in some bubbles before lifting her baby up and setting her down.

Vaggie lets Charlie clean her up and rinse her down, too tired to complain about anything. She slowly plays with a rubber duck and some of the bubbles as her caregiver washes her. 

After about 15 minutes, Charlie drains the tub and helps dry her off. Once she was completely dry, she unfolded the pull-out changing table (Like the ones in public bathrooms) and laid Vaggie on it. It was very strong and could hold up to 300 pounds.

She unfolded one of Vaggie’s diapers and laid it underneath her. She applied some lotion to help with a few rashes Vaggie had gotten and sprinkled a bit of baby powder before taping it up, making sure it wasn’t too tight or too loose. Vaggie was pretty particular when it came to the tapes. However, she could never do it herself or she’d end up leaking.

“You’re being so good, Vaggie, Sweetie~” Charlie praised. She read that praising children early would help their self-confidence in the future. She came up with a theory that it would also work when someone was regressed and decided to test it. Sure, Vaggie’s self-confidence went up a little bit from these praises, but it was working! 

Once she had finished with the padding, she pulled out one of her t-shirts and wiggled it on Vaggie. The fallen angel always loved to use Charlie’s t-shirts as pajamas when she was regressed. 

Charlie picked her up and carried her to their bed. After setting her down, she got out Vaggie’s stuffed koala and paci and gave them to her. She latched onto both of them and curled up under the covers. Charlie got in bed too and pulled her close as Vaggie fell asleep in her lap. 

Post-Carmilla training became one of the couple’s favorite times. Vaggie would let herself regress and Charlie got to take care of a clingy little baby.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Who Knows The Way I Love You

(A Valentine’s Day Harringrove ficlet! <3)

Leave it up to Steve’s mother, queen of control freaks and master of all life-ruiners to have arranged a date for him. Especially today, Valentine's Day.

For ages now she’s been harping on him about how disappointed she is in his lack of motivation to grow up. She felt that at 19 he was too old to still be at home, a mooch and an embarrassment to the family name, all because she had moved out when she was just 17 and got married in the same year and he’s, well, nothing like that.

The fact that she isn’t happy in that marriage never seems to come up when she’s making that argument though.

But apparently she’s taken matters into her own hands again, arranging for him to meet with some random bachelorette in hopes they’ll fall madly in love and he’ll want to move out immediately so she can finally have the house to herself. Maybe a few grand babies to dote on in a few years to make her feel like a good mother. The usual.

Of course she would wait until the day of to tell him too, casually over black coffee he hates the bitter taste of mentioning offhandedly, “You’re meeting with the Thompson girl tonight.”

He hadn’t known what to say except, “Meeting up as in, like, a date?”

“That’s what I said, Steven.” Her tone was serious, harsh even, as she monotonously explained the details, “You’ll pick her up at seven. Don’t be a minute late. I’ve already picked out a suit, just try to do something with that hair of yours, would you?”

At that point, he’d been perfectly content with nodding along, only hearing her request, ignoring it, then immediately forgetting, but she just had to add, before she turned on her heel and left him to think on it, “Oh and dear, please don’t do anything rash like last time. Lord knows how everyone talked after the Wheeler girl. If you must make a fool of yourself, do it quietly.”

It’s not that Steve had been really surprised, because again, his mother’s been trying to shape him into the perfect son since he was in diapers, which most of the time meant being judgemental as hell, and playing the love doctor since he was old enough to date, hand picking all his girlfriends to try to ensure her future daughter in law would be just perfect. It was amazing how every time, without fail, she always picked girls Steve couldn’t stand or get along with in the least bit.

Growing up in his mansion by parents too snobbish to deal with the less desirable aspects of parenting, he knew there was no way they could even know him all that well, but it still sung, just a little, every time his mother would force him to go out with any old rich debutante that struck her fancy without knowing what he cared for. Which happened to not be women at all, but that was beside the point.

Because vacations and family photos, that was all fine and easy, but teaching their kid a life skill or two, maybe sticking around long enough to make sure he wasn’t a walking anxious disaster, that was too far below them. And that’s exactly why they, or more specifically his mother (his dad probably doesn’t even know Steve’s ever had a girlfriend) think he needs every last part of his life predetermined to avoid the failures they had ultimately set him up for.

Like when his mother made him go to the country club his freshman year on weekend dates with Tina, who talked like a snob and thought she was better than him in every way. Or similarly when he had to take the Holloway’s daughter to the most expensive sit down restaurant just outside of Hawkins, this one the polar opposite of Tina, again leaving him with absolutely no idea how to conduct himself. She’d never even said a single word to him. At least breaking it off didn’t reflect back onto him.

All he’d realized from it was that he could barely manage small talk with any of the girls she wanted for him, let alone planning his whole damned future with them.

The only partner he’d ever really chosen for himself was Nancy Wheeler, and well, he didn’t even want to think about how that one ended. Or that maybe he never really loved her in the first place, that she was instead just an experiment to test his independence he got too attached to. Or, regardless of his feelings, the fact that it’s been thrown back in his face about a thousand times since as proof he shouldn’t be out there on his own. Like having one failed romance meant he had to just tuck his tail and drop whatever he was doing for her matchmaking bullshit.

Well wouldn’t she be disappointed to hear he already had a date, and she wouldn’t be getting her perfect little daughter in law anytime soon? He’d bet her heart would break clean in two.

Because this wasn’t just the case of your typical, rebellious well-off teenager dating the-girl-next-door to offend his beloved parents while ultimately still following the rules, he’d done all that before. It’s juvenile.

This, this was more like taking everything they had ever raised him to be and turning it on it’s head.

Steve has a boyfriend. Well, a sort of a boyfriend. They never used that word, in Steve’s case mostly because he can’t handle the commitment just yet. He can thank Ruth Harrington for that one.

Ironically, the fact that this partner of his was a boy somehow probably wasn’t enough to shred her sensibilities into nothing but hatred on its own, but that ambiguity, the hesitation to commit for the rest of his life into something romantic, that might just do the trick.

He just couldn’t help himself. When Billy Hargrove rolled into Hawkins straight off the pages of a magazine, he saw an opportunity. Recognized his chance in the pierced left ear and the fashions right out of the Castro district, so he made his move as soon as they were over the bullying thing. His mothers expectations be damned.

So, of course Steve will not be going to dinner with Tammy Thompson, not that he’d ever want to in the first place, his plan was always to go over to Billy’s place.

Besides, it’s fourteenth of February, Valentine’s Day, and Billy’s dad is out of town. They might not be ready for labels, and very rightly so, but Steve is still not going to let an opportunity like that slide. All that wasted romance on girls he wanted nothing to do with could now be freely funneled into the first person he’d ever truly wanted to spend his forever with.

It’s admittedly not their usual speed, but they’d planned a night in for the holiday. Everything about it was probably too intimate for the current status of their relationship, putting Steve between equal nerves and excitement. Anticipation for getting to act like a couple, bring his boy a card and a kiss on the cheek in celebration, couple right with the fear of getting too comfortable in something that the stability of was constantly threatened, be that by societal rule of his mother.

The fact of the matter is though, they didn’t exactly want to be caught together on Valentine’s Day either, even if it was just at a random party. Rumors spread fast in Hawkins, Steve’d been around that all his life and learned it doubly well since his most recent breakup, so they both agreed it was best to just spend the night alone.

And honestly, Steve was okay with that, actually sort of desperate for that normalcy he’d come to develop with Billy since they’d started this dating thing, but that hesitation in his chest still lingers. That idea that maybe he should just go through with what his mother wants and leave Billy hanging, since they’re not technically official yet anyways.

It’s a guilty thought to have, but he’s never been the type to be able to completely disregard what his parents think, especially when it comes to this. To the one thing he’d fucking failed at doing right countless times; being their perfect son who’d follow every rule and continue on the family legacy before he had time to grow into his own life.

Still, he’d really hate to lose Billy over something so trivial, and he thinks he’d hate it even more to be hitched to some random chick he’d end up either hating or leaving anyways, so, as it stands, he’s headed for Cherry Lane.

He tosses his stupid, and probably poorly thought out, little drugstore gifts in the shapes of cartoon hearts and withering roses into his backseat, and drives the familiar route to Billy’s house. Not that he’d stopped there often, the same authoritarian whose absence meant tonight was possible the very reason he didn’t usually come out this way, but, every so often, Billy’d need him to come by.

He’d have just one too many to drink while they were out and need dropped off a little closer to home, or maybe he’d be a little extra lonely, in need, and beg Steve to actually come in, again only on days when it was safe. All the same, Steve gets there without any extra stress to add on top of that tightness in his chest, that uncomfortable mixture of longing and fear that washes heavy over him.

He powers through the anxiety and marches right over to Billy’s window, standing on his toes to reach the pane just above his head and tapping on the glass with his knuckles, knowing the other boy would be nearby. Waiting up for him, even if it still took him a moment to answer, just enough of a pause to not seem like he isn’t eager.

Steve smiles wide as the bottom finally slides up, a groggy looking blonde peeking out down at him, “Could’ve used the door, H. Neil’s not home.”

“Yeah, I know. Thought this’d be more romantic.” Billy pauses for a second, like he’s processing what Steve said, before an equal smile cracks across his face, extending a hand down to Steve and remarking, “Get your ass in here.”

The first thing Steve does, once he pulls himself up into the room with only minor effort, is thrust those cheesy gifts he’d brought out towards the other boy. He has no words, just a slightly flushed, overly self-confident expression he hopes reads a little cooler than it sounds.

Billy thankfully doesn’t freak out, doesn’t tear the card in half or smash the flowers into the carpet like the more anxious parts of Steve’s mind convinced himself was a possibility. He just looks down at what’s in his hands, clearly not knowing what to say other than, after another moments pause, “You goin’ soft on me, Harrington?”

Steve shrugs, adding to make himself sound like he’s on Billy’s level or to make him laugh, he isn’t sure, “You wish, Hargrove. These were supposed to be for some chick.”

“Ah, but you still decided to give them to me.” Billy smirks, licks his teeth, takes another step forward. They’re teasing around something, literally. Pulling pigtails like they do best.

“Who else would? You know, I consider myself quite the charitable guy.”

One more step, Billy mutters, close enough that Steve can count the freckles on his nose, feel the hitch in his breath when Billy says, “I consider you an obnoxious asshole.”

It’s Steve who makes the first move from there, closing that tiny gap that was left between them to connect their lips, an open-mouthed kiss he presses forward into until Billy’s knees buckle and they both fall back against his bed. Hands wander, the kiss deepens, passions dance. That’s the way it always is with Billy, since the very first time he’d grabbed Steve a little too rough and kissed him the same way.

They’re awkward and they’re a little clashy but Steve at least gets absolutely lost in it. Could just sit and make out with him all day and never notice that the world kept turning without them. It’s what drew him in and just one of the many things that kept him around. Kept the idea in his heart so solid that Billy was his one.

He’s glad he chose this. Any lingering regrets melting away with his fears of approaching Billy so vulnerably. So demanding of something he wasn’t sure they were ready to have.

Still, in the moment, once his thoughts wander back to the warm hands under his shirt, the tongue halfway down his throat, he breaks it off. As much as he could lose track of everything, he can tell things are probably going to go further tonight, it is a special occasion after all, and he wants to be ready for that.

Steve pushes up off the bed, off of Billy, wandering towards the bookshelves where Billy lines up his music. If he is finally going to give up that one last milestone, he tells himself the music will ground him, keep his thoughts from wandering. From assuming the sex is all they’ll ever amount to just like all his other partners did.

Billy lacks the context of that internal dilemma though, throwing an arm dramatically over his face and complaining, “Where’re you goin’?”

“Need a soundtrack. Don’t like the quiet.” For a moment, Steve wishes he’d thought of this sooner and brought his own, because as he pushes through the stacks of tapes, it’s all the stuff he’s been bitching about Billy turning off every time he’s in his car, “God, do you have anything in here that’s not for crazy metalheads?”

Billy sits up on his elbows, interjecting, his tone a whine, “Why the hell’s it matter what the music is? Jus’ pick something.”

“Because it’s Valentine’s Day, Bills.” Steve rolls his eyes, muttering as he pushes yet another row of tapes out of the way,  “I’ll keep it in my pants if the only option is this garbage.”

Billy sighs heavily, definitely playing up the drama on purpose, but he gives Steve a clue in so he’ll stop stalling already, “Third row from the front. Far left.”

Steve follows his directions with his finger, smearing dust off of older I played tapes at the back, landing on a particular mix. It’s half played. The title is scratched on in blue pen, but instead of being numbered like most of the rest of his mixtapes are, as Steve had come to learn, this one simply has a picture of a crown and a heart scribbled next to it. Something something along Steve.

He flips it around, can tell Billy is flustered by the idea of him hearing it, or even holding itx if the flush that's started creeping up his neck under Jose golden curls that spill over his shoulders is any indication. “What is this, B?”

“What you wanted.” Billy grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and almost demanding, “Just get your ass back over here.”

But Steve is distracted, slotting the cassette into the clunky, beat-up player, standing in place until the static cuts through into music. He doesn’t recognize the song, it’s some disco era love song. Leo Sayer maybe.

Doesn’t matter, because Billy is embarrassed by it all the same, and Steve is going to milk that for all it’s worth. He knows the tape was for him, and that he was also never supposed to find it. It’s a touching gesture really, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t have something to tease Billy about on a night when he brought him fucking flowers.

He sways to the music a little, making Billy groan and put his head in his hands, “What are you doing, Stevie?”

He just laughs a little, does a little turn in the center of the room. Not really dancing as much as he is teasing his boyfriend about his sappy secret taste in seventies love songs.

Billy, now blushing about as red as the roses on his nightstand, hooks his fingers through Steve’s belt loops, tugging him back over, interrupting his little moment. Steve lets Billy pull him where he wants him, which is in his lap.

Billy holds an arm around Steve’s waist, kissing him again before they have time to say anything else. Because really, they don’t need words. Not right now.

There’s a distinct lack of the heat they had before though. No expectations this time, no next steps behind this particular union. Steve likes it that way. Likes the feeling of warmth and love and appreciation of the moment. It’s why he came here tonight. It’s why Billy makes him feel special.

Steve realizes then, that he can’t deny it anymore; He’s fully in love with Billy Hargrove.

When the time comes to take a breath, it’s Steve who pulls back, when Billy leans in again, pressing their foreheads together as a sort of reminder that he needs a minute. He can’t help the loose smile that crosses his face then, “Who would've guessed that Billy Hargrove was such a romantic?”

Billy returns it, somehow almost bashful, even though he’d initiated this, “There’s lots’a things you don’t know about me.”

“Like what?” Steve urges him along playfull, genuinely making Billy stop and think.

That’s yet another thing about the two of them. The charm between them doesn’t come so easy as it does in other settings. It’s never that same practiced shtick they have to put on for all the pretty girls and watching eyes, they keep each other on their toes, in a challenging, complete sort of way. In a way that almost says- I’ll always keep trying to be my best for you.

Billy hums, trying his damndest to be cheesy back if his lopsided smile says anything, “Like.. how I got a hundred numbers my first week in town and still chose you.”

“Pfft, I could’ve guessed that one. No one would pass me by if they had the chance.” It makes them both laugh, soft chuckles drowned out by the continuous music from the stereo, it’s natural setting just a little too loud because of the double speakers. Steve prompts further, “Try again.”

“Okay. Bet you have no idea how much I love you.”

There’s a pause. The tape clicks as the ribbon runs out. Billy’s room is suddenly silent.

If they haven’t even officially used the word ‘boyfriend,’ they definitely haven't said those words out loud yet. Steve had just come to terms with it in his head. Neither of them were ready for that.

“Did you just say-“ Steve starts, leaning back to look at more of Billy, who at the same time almost instantly interrupts with, “-I did.”

“I thought we weren’t-“ Again Steve tries, but the same thing happens, Billy cutting him off, his voice increasingly shaky, “-I didn’t mean to go too far.”

“You didn’t, I jus-“ Once more, “-I’m an idiot H. Was trying to be sly and it just sorta, slipped out and I-“

“Billy. Listen to me.” Steve raises his tone just a little, firm enough to interrupt the panic he knows is taking root in the other boy's thoughts, but gentle enough it won’t register as condescending.

“Just spit it out, H.” Billy starts, mumbling once he realizes he’s doing the same thing, meaning not listening, “Sorry.”

“No, s’okay. Just wanna talk about it.” Steve slides out of Billy’s lap, the position sort of inappropriate for this type of conversation, settling beside him so they can talk more comfortably, “I’m not like, mad that you said it. I’ve kinda.. wanted you to for a while actually.”

Billy looks at him, a reflection of shock and confusion, the look of someone who’s too busy blaming themself to hear the truth, “We’ve only been together for like, a month though, Steve.”

“I know, but you can’t tell me this isn’t special. I’ve at least known it was since the first time I saw you.” Steve tries, but Billy's face contorts again, his eyes narrowing and his smile fading even deeper into a frown, this time taking it the wrong way, “I tell you how I feel and you’re trying to show me up now?”

“No! I told you to just listen. You’re throwing me off. Just- lemme start over.” Steve shakes his head, feeling Billy's sharpened gaze follow his every move. He sighs and tries from the beginning, “I know it feels sort of like we’re rushing things, but it’s just different with you, Billy. It’s like, I feel like this is actually where I want to be, and like I always want you to be with me. Like I’m drawn to you all the time and I can’t wait for the next time I get to kiss your stupid face.”

Billy gets it, finally, “So.. like you love me.”

Steve hesitates at the wording, finding it just as hard to admit those feelings, mostly because of the last time he did, “Yeah, just like that. And I do.”

“Say it then.” Billy shifts closer, physically and in the conversation, intense and passionate. It gives Steve the impression he’s had a similar experience as he did.

“I’ll save it for a special moment.” Steve promises, half-way between joking and deflecting. The way Billy’s face crumbles sways him though, “..And seeing as tonight’s Valentines Day, And we’re here all alone..”

Steve leans forward and kisses him again softly, muttering against the warmth of Billy’s lips, a promise made all the more personal by the gesture, “Love you, Billy.”

When he pulls away again, the tension has gone again. Billy deadpans, though clearly not meaning it, “You’re a dick.”

“Aw, but you love it.”

“No shit, I said it first.”

“Still can’t believe that. I thought I was supposed to be the romantic one. I even brought you flowers.”

“Just had to throw you off your game.” Billy shrugs comfortably, their entire tone finally having shifted more to genuinely being able to laugh at themselves and each other, the motive of getting under the other’s skin seemingly dissipated by their mutual declaration, painful as it was.

“Say it again and it just might work.”

“I can’t. S’a heat of the moment thing.” It’s Steve this time who pouts, glassy eyes and pretty puffy lips demanding something more from Billy, who caves, “Fine. Don’t make those eyes at me. I’m already in love with you.”

Steve shakes his head, between being encouraging and just being plain stubborn, “You’re talking around it again. Just say I love you.”

“I’m tired of just talkin’. We’ve only got like, two hours left tops ‘til you’ve gotta be far away from here and we’re wastin’ it. Why don’t we do something?”

“Something like..?” Steve prompts, one eyebrow raised, the expression and the question both making Billy chuckle warmly, and counter with, “You really gonna make me say it? Just get back over here, pretty boy, ‘n I’ll show ya.”

“Hm. Shouldn’t you reset the tape first?”

“You’re never gonna let me live tonight down are ya?”

“Never.”