#bet im the first one to submit their entry lol

[letmeletmetrashyourlove]

Millie

Summary: Billy finds out that he is having a baby girl.

REQUESTS OPEN      FEEDBACK APPRECIATED

Author’s Note: Killing two birds with one stone with this fic! It was requested, but also for Amanda’s 3,000 follower celebration! Yay Amanda! Love you!

Billy leaned against the doorframe as I stood in front of our daughter. She was sitting on the bathroom counter, playing with my necklace as I tugged her hair up into pigtails on top of her head. Though she had my hair color, she had gotten Billy’s ringlet curls.

        “Alright, silly Millie.” I sighed when I was finished, hoisting her off the counter and into my arms.

Today was her first day of soccer, and she couldn’t be more enthusiastic. Billy, on the other hand, was a nervous wreck. Every bump, bruise, and fall she had ever suffered was made worse by his overreaction. She would fall over and be fine until her dad gasped and came flying over to her asking if she was okay.

His panic drove her to cry more often than not. Which is why I was contemplating making him stay home for the duration of soccer practice, knowing he would lose his mind whenever she went down. I passed Millie over to him as I exited the bathroom, he peppered kisses on her cheek, making her squawk.

Billy followed me as I went into her bedroom, pulling out a pair of knee high socks with red bands around the top. I tossed them to him. He struggled to get her feet in them as she kicked fiercely, giggling the whole time.

        “Hey! Save the kicking for practice, will yah?” He exclaimed.

        “Mmm. No!” She cackled.

He rolled his eyes, flipping her upside down so her feet stuck up in the air,

        “Teamwork!” Billy hollered, holding her legs still while I shoved the socks over her feet.

        “That’s cheating!” Mille protested, crossing her arms as she hung upside down, her pigtails dangling.

He flipped her right side up again, throwing her over his shoulder.

Billy Hargrove had somehow straightened himself out since he was in high school. My suspicion was that it was entirely to do with getting away from Neil. Despite being flat broke, when he turned 18, he moved out and into an apartment down the street from my childhood home. We met when he came to my door when I was home from college on spring break. Without his mullet, he was nearly unrecognizable. If it hadn’t been for his signature smirk, I wouldn’t have known who it was.

        “Oh, hey, Y/N.” He greeted, “Jeez, it’s been a couple years, hasn’t it?”

        “Yeah. It has.” I replied, looking him up and down.

He and I never really got along in school. He relied too heavily on his fists to get his point across, though, despite that, he had never shown an ounce of hostility towards me.

        “So, uh, what brings you here?”

        “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I just…” He wavered, “Saw you and you got me all distracted.”

He blushed, drawing his lip between his teeth. I placed my hands on my hips, recognizing his flirtatious ways.

        “I’ve been taking care of your parent’s lawn for a while. I just wanted to come over and see if they needed help with anything.”

        “Oh, yeah. Uh… Come on in, I’ll go find my mom.” I told him, stepping aside so he could come in.

He studied the walls of the house, tucking his thumbs into his pockets as I trotted to the living room where mom sat with a book in her lap.

        “Hey, mama.” I notified, “Billy’s here.”

        “Oh, Billy!” She beamed, drawing herself from her seat.

She brushed past me, meeting him in the entryway and pulling him into a hug.  I was taken aback by the gesture, especially as Billy gladly returned the hug.  

        “How have you been?” She sought, rubbing her hands up and down his biceps.

        “Good! Good!” He smiled down at her.

        “Got a girlfriend yet?” She asked, making his cheeks go red as he shook his head. Mom motioned over her shoulder to me, making my cheeks turn an equally dark shade of pink.

        “She’s still single, and I want grandbabies.” She whispered, nudging him with her elbow.

        “MOTHER!” I exclaimed.

        “WHAT!?” She retorted, “YOU CAN’T WAIT FOREVER.”

        “I’M ONLY 22!” I shouted back.

        “I was 21 when I had you. Gotta use that uterus while it’s still good.”

        “OKAY, HOW ABOUT WE STOP TALKING ABOUT THE EFFICIENCY OF MY UTERUS IN FRONT OF OUR GUEST?!”

Billy could hardly contain his amusement as he watched my mother and I stare each other down.

        “Well. I don’t have any work for you to do yet. But, I have something to give you.”

She traveled into the kitchen, getting a pan out of the freezer and handing it over to him,

        “Lasagna.” She told him, “I’m tired of seeing those takeout cars going down the street to your place every night. Eat some real food, will ya? I don’t know how you keep your gut with how you’ve been eating.” She jabbed him in the stomach.

Despite our awkward reunion, Billy somehow managed to overlook my mother’s constant talk about grandbabies long enough to ask me out on a date. To say I was reluctant would be an understatement, but the way my mother talked about him persuaded me. She insisted he was hardworking and kind. Told me an adorable story about how he found a bunny nest in the backyard and ended up taking the little creatures to a wildlife rescue.

But when I finally accepted his request, I saw what she was talking about. His rough edges had softened over the years. He even managed to come up with kind things to say about his stepmother and Max.

After I finished college, he proposed to me. And a couple weeks later we found out I was pregnant. Billy went into freak out mode, insisting that he was going to turn out just like his own father. I had to grab him by the face in the middle of him ranting to make him look at me,

        “You are nothing like that bastard, do you understand me?” I hollered, “And if I had even an ounce of doubt about that, I wouldn’t be with you.”

He subdued for the next couple of months, only having another freak out once we figured out the gender. A baby girl.

        “What- What am I supposed to do with a baby girl!?” He roared, pacing back in forth in the nursery, awkwardly stepping around deconstructed furniture.

        “Babe. Chill. It’ll be okay.” I reassured, lounging on the recliner with a bag of bugle chips, supervising while he was supposed to be putting the crib together.

        “No… No, no, no, no.” He stuttered, “Nope. No. I know how girls are, okay. She’s gonna fall in love with some asshole and get her heart broken.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at his outburst, earning me a scowl.

        “Billy, she’s not even as big as a softball yet, and you’re worried about her future boyfriends.”

I didn’t bother to look up at him, placing the chips over the ends of my fingers as he continued to pace around.

        “I’m gonna run that asshole over in my car. Then I’m gonna end up in jail. I’m going to end up in jail and I can’t go to jail, I’m too pretty to go to jail!”

I rolled my eyes, holding my hands up with the bugels on the end and wiggling my fingers,

        “I’ll get you my pretty, and your little dog too.” I cackled, doing my best wicked witch of the west impression.  

        “HOW ARE YOU SO CALM WHEN I’M ABOUT TO GO TO PRISON FOR VEHICULAR MANSLAUGHTER!?”

        “Actually, honey, it would be vehicular homicide, unless you do a good job and make it look like an accident.”

        “I’m gonna go to jail.” He repeated.

I let out a sigh, throwing a bugel at him and hitting him on the cheek,

        “The only person going to jail is me when I murder you for being irrationally worried about this.” I threatened, “And then you’ll be gone and I’ll have a baby in prison. And then she’ll have to go live with my mom.”

        “Oh no.”

        “And you know what my mom is gonna do to her?”

        “Dress her up in those freaky doll outfits.” He gasped.

        “Exactly.”

I pulled him down to sit beside me, resting my head on his shoulder and patting his chest reassuringly.

        “What if she doesn’t like me?” He whispered, scarcely audible.

        “What do you mean ‘if she doesn’t like you’?”

        “I mean… I don’t know… I’m just…” He sputtered, “I don’t know. I’m kind of an asshole.”

        “Yeah. I know you are. And I still let you knock me up.” I replied, finally getting a laugh from him, “She’s gonna love you. I know she is.”

He nodded,

        “Got any name ideas?"  

I shook my head,

        “How about…. Joan? Or Bonnie?”

        “WE ARE NOT NAMING OUR CHILD AFTER JOAN JETT OR BONNIE TYLER!” I screeched.

        “WHO SAID THAT’S WHY I PICKED THOSE NAMES?” He defended with a gasp.

        “Is that why you picked those names?”  

        “Yes.”

        “That’s what I thought.”

        “What about Joni?” He offered, “Combo of Joan and Bonnie.” 

I rolled my eyes, 

        “We’re not naming her after Joni Mitchell either.” 

A few months later, we decided on the name Millicent, after his mom’s mother. And a few months after that, we got to meet Millie for the first time. She instantly took a liking to Billy, for a while him being the only one able to rock her to sleep. Literally. Rock her to sleep. He sang rock songs to her, and the only requirement on the song was that it had to have the word ‘rock’ in it.

        “Here I am, rock you like a hurricane.”

        “I love rock and roll, put another dime in the jukebox baby.”

        “We will, we will rock you.”

        “Amadeus, Amadeus, Amadeus, Amadeus, Amadeus, oh, oh, oh Amadeus, Come and rock me Amadeus.”

        “I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day. I wanna rock and roll all night and party every day.”

He’d creep out of the room, shutting the door carefully behind him,

        “You know, I really should start recording you when you do that because it’s disgustingly adorable.”

Despite my refusal to name my daughter after Joan Jett, Billy had taught Millie to love her and she now knew the words to most of her songs. They sang it in the car on the way to soccer, her tiny voice standing out against the chorus.

We pulled up to the park, watching other little girls in pigtails clamber out of their cars and run into the field, soccer balls tucked under their arms.

Millie was playing in the youngest league, only being three years old. Billy pulled her out of her car seat and carried her onto the grass. Once we reached the field, she squirmed to be put down. As soon as her cleated feet hit the grass, she took off running to the group of toddlers that was kicking the ball around before practice had even started.

        “She’s too big now.” Billy lamented, coming up behind me and resting his head on my shoulder.

        “Yeah, that’s what happens.” I sighed, watching her make quick friends with a girl who had matching socks with her.

We waved to her as she turned back around, giving us a thumbs up before returning to play. The coach finally rallied all the girls together, which was about as difficult as herding cats. Within a few minutes, she had them kicking the ball up and down the field. Billy had a grin plastered on his face. Until Millie fell, that is. She landed face first in the grass, dirt sticking to her cheeks as she looked up in horror. Billy let out a gasp, attempting to run towards the field. I snagged him by the back of his shirt, preventing him from going any further.

The girl that Millie was playing with earlier ran over to her, helping her to her feet. She brushed the mud off her face before hugging her. Not a single tear was shed on Millie’s part, the first time she’s fallen without Billy there to catch her.

        “See. She’s fine.” I reassured, “She’s a strong girl.”

        “Told you letting her listen to rock music would turn her into a badass.” He smirked.

I gave him a playful smack in the gut,

        “Oh, please. You were closer to crying than she was and you’ve got 23 more years of rock music than her.”

        “I guess she must take after her mama then.”

        “Yeah. Uh-huh. Whatever, you big baby.”