#Drying Racks All Feeding for Baby

[bokutosbabe]

Having His Baby

a/n — osamu brainrot is actually insane. not proofread so for sure horrible i wrote this on a whim 🫶🏼

content — nsfw, 18+, osamu x fem! reader, breeding kink, goes back and forth between high school and time skip, reader and osamu are high school sweethearts, reader and osamu are married, mating press, cursing, talk of a pregnancy scare, nicknames(pretty girl, nasty girl, baby, maybe more i forgot), daddy kink if you squint, i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis — in high school osamu miya knew you were meant to be a mom, but seven years later he’d finally decided he would make you one himself.

✿.｡.“ screaming but daddy i love him! ”.｡.✿

Osamu always knew you’d be a good mom. From the moment he'd met you in the nurse's office during his first year, you simply radiated that aura. Always so willing to help him every time he and atsumu got in a fight or he got hurt in volleyball — you would drop everything to come help him in the nurse's office.

Sure, it wasn't exactly smart to skip the classes that Osamu needed you in, but that was your job. You were the nurse's student assistant after all.

You hadn't gotten the courage to actually speak to him until his fourth appearance in there, yes you'd given him your number just so he could text if he needed help, but the two of you only texted when he was hurt. (you had no idea how many “you up?” texts he had wanted to send to you to see if you'd respond)

It was an accident really, saying your first real words to him. They were simply out of shock as you saw his lip cut open and his jaw already beginning to bruise, "what happened to you?” you had asked, hand slightly grazing the boy's, now bruised, jaw.

That was a million years ago in Osamu’s mind, while it really had only been seven. So much had changed since he first met you, you started dating not soon after, and then he'd married you, he’d opened his own onigiri business, and it all led here — to the two of you cooking in the kitchen. " ‘samu, can you get me a bowl? There's none in the drying rack and my hands are dirty.” your cute voice broke him out of the weird trance he was under as he watched you work. “Anything for you baby.” he cooed as he reached over your head and grabbed a clean bowl for you.

Everything was always clean in your shared home, which shouldn't have been a bad thing— except it was to Osamu. As a kid, he remembered him and Atsumu making various messes whether it be with liquids or even drawing on the walls- their home was very rarely clean. Osamu loved and appreciated everything you did for the house, but the ache to have kids that would make simple messes prodded at him more often than he would've liked to admit. He remembered the first time he brought kids up to you in high school during second year.

“ ya ever think about havin' kids? ” he asked as the both of you lay in his bed, his TV just droning on as background noise since the two of you had been talking the entire time. “Hmm…sometimes. I have dreams that we have kids- twins actually,” you admitted. Your raw and honest confession shouldn't have had his cock stirring in his pants the way it did, “Really?” he asked as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, imagining your stomach all round with his children, not one child, but twins. “Yeah, and they look like you,” you said simply, hands finding their way to his dyed locs and running through them. That conversation made Osamu Miya realize that he would rather die than not have kids with you. (and that he had a breeding kink but he found that far too embarrassing to tell you)

When you press the spoon to Osamus's mouth is when he suddenly comes back to the present, “Open samu, need my favorite person to make sure it tastes good.” you smiled as the man opened his mouth and allowed you to feed him— which only made him think of you feeding a baby - your baby. The male nodded as he pulled away from the spoon, “tastes good baby.” He wasn’t lying, it did taste good- but maybe the thought of you feeding a child made his mind a bit fuzzy. “thank goodness, it’s a new recipe, so I was really worried.” you gave your husband a smile as you turned back around, grabbing the bowl osamu had gotten you.

Maybe it was the high school memories coming back to him, or maybe it was him thinking about how the house was always spotless, hell— perhaps it was because you just looked so cute right now with your apron around your waist and spoon in hand. Whatever it was, Osamu couldn’t help the ache he felt in his pants, coming behind you and placing his hands on your stomach. “ ‘Yer so cute…”

“mhm, thank you, baby. you’re real cute too.” you smiled as you tilted your head up, giving him a quick peck on the chin. As you returned to what you were doing, filling bowls with the soup you had made for dinner, Osamu pressed himself against you, his hard-on very prominent. As much as you could’ve tried to ignore him, your husband always got his way when it came to you, “ ‘Samu dinners ready…” you said as you pressed your back into his chest- face beginning to heat up.

“ it can wait…need you right now-” usually your husband was a kind, patient man (except when he ‘had’ to fuck you in the back room of onigiri miya when you brought him some lunch) “You’d be such a good mommy…so good to our babies.” the male muttered against your hair, grabbing your waist and grinding against your clothed cunt. a small moan fell from your lips, “ ‘s-samu! it’ll get cold-”

It wasn’t like you were oblivious to Osamu's want for kids, in your third year you and Osamu had had a pregnancy scare. While many other 18-year-old boys would’ve probably been relieved seeing that one line on the pregnancy test, Osamu felt some strange emptiness and disappointment. sure, it wasn’t ideal to be teen parents, but he couldn’t figure out why he so badly wanted you to have his baby. It was on that same day that he figured out he didn’t want a professional volleyball career, no he wanted to have a true career that let him be home with you as often as he could be (so he could knock you up.) ever since that day, every time you passed the baby section in a store- his eyes would glaze over and he’d mention how tiny the shoes and clothes were, and you’d talked about kids- but never were you guys actually ‘trying’ for a baby.

“ jus’ reheat it,” Osamu mumbled as he picked you up, strong hands that still hold proof of his years of playing volleyball and now being a professional chef digging into the underside of your thighs. Your house wasn’t large in the slightest, but the minute it took for him to carry you felt like it took an eternity. The second Osamu’s foot crossed over the barrier of your shared bedroom- his lips were on yours. The kiss was downright disgusting, spit being shared as his tongue invaded your mouth, leaving you gasping for air when he finally pulled away. “ so pretty…” he mumbled as he carried you over to the bed, using one of his hands to untie the apron that hugged your waist in a way that turned his brain to mush.

Osamu groaned as he pulled off your shirt, seeing that you had no bra on, “you knew this was gon’ happen didn’t ya pretty?” he asked as skillfully he pulled his gray shirt off with one hand, making you squirm under his intense gaze. “n-no I just-” but Osamu didn’t want to hear your excuses, there was no need for them now. his hand quickly pushed you down to where your back met the mattress, lips puckering around one of your nipples as he played with your other one. he wasn’t much of a boob man, much rather enjoying your ass, but even he couldn’t stop the images of your tits full of milk from invading his mind. he let out a groan as he looked up at you, hand covering your mouth as you watched him- face flushed in arousal and maybe some embarrassment. “let me hear you pretty girl.” he came up and caught your lips in another kiss, hand sneaking down to the waistband of your his shorts and pulling them off of your legs in one quick movement. if there was one thing about Osamu Miya, it was that he knew how to get you undressed in a matter of seconds.

You instinctively tried closing your legs, but Osamu knew you too well, his knee already finding solace between your legs as he pulled away from the kiss, a string of spit connecting the two of you as he looked down at you. “fuck baby…look at how wet you are,” you let out a small moan as he ran a finger over your clothed cunt, your panties becoming insanely wet as you reached down and grabbed his wrist. “please ‘samu, need you…” you begged as you shook your head. “want you in me-”

Now usually your husband wasn’t the type to fuck you without fingering you or (his favorite) eating you out, but right now his cock was begging to be freed from the confines of his jeans. “my pretty girl…”he mumbled as he pulled off your panties, a string of arousal connecting to you, making him let out a groan. “need to fuck ya right now…” and Osamu made good on his word, quickly getting rid of his jeans and boxers, cock springing to life- making you moan as you saw it. it didn’t matter how many times you’d seen Osamu in his bare glory, it always made you want to thank whatever gods decided you were good enough for him.

You remembered in high school when the two of you had first had sex, both inexperienced as you tried figuring out what position worked for the both of you and accidentally breaking his bed— something atsumu never lets you forget.

Osamu groaned as his tip met your entrance, staring at you with those bedroom eyes that were like a remedy to any problem you ever had,chest heaving as he stopped himself from shoving into you- wanting you to be ready for him. “please samu…need it so bad-” you cried out as you reached up to his neck, moaning as you brought him down for another kiss. osamu miya was nothing if not a gentleman who listened to his wife, pushing into your hole and bottoming out almost immediately, groaning against your lips,“still so tight fa me, huh baby?” the moan you let out was almost pornographic, back arching into your husband,“ fuck! S-samu!” you cried out, legs wrapping around his waist.

Sure, Osamu could’ve been nice and given you time to adjust to him like he usually did, but who had time for that when he needed to get you pregnant tonight? The male groaned as he took your legs and pushed them to where your knees were pressed against your chest, making him feel extra deep, “s-samu!” you cried out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “yer so pretty, baby, my pretty girl…”osamu mumbled to himself. he didn’t even give you a warning before pulling out and slamming back into you, letting out his own moan as your nails scratched into his back.

You’d always been sensitive when it came to osamu, but never had you felt him this deep inside of you before, gasps and moans leaving your mouth. “feel me, baby? gonna get you pregnant, full of my cum.”osamu pressed down on your stomach as he thrust in and out of you in a rhythm you knew all too well. you tried answering him, truly you did, but even two seconds with Osamu into your cunt made you brain dead. “mhm-” was the only word you could make, giving your husband a small laugh as he looked down at you.

“Fucked ya dumb already pretty girl? C'mon, know ya got more in ya-” The teasing tone in his voice made you want to cry, but some sick sort of enjoyment of being embarrassed held back those tears. you looked so pretty under Osamu, your wedding ring adorning your finger as your hair was messily sprawled out beneath you with your knees pushed to your chest. Osamu thought he could take a mental picture and have enough spank bank material for three months, at least.

“Gonna cum- ah samu!” you whined out, nails scratching down your husband's back. Osamu let out a groan, maybe he should give you more money to get your nails done, because the short acrylics you have on scraping down his back made him want to short circuit. “cum for me baby, gonna look so good filled with my cum.” Osamu was on the brink of his release, groaning as he brought a hand down to finally rub your clit, giving you the final push to let go. you moaned out his name over and over, even slipping a small ‘daddy’ in the chant of words. With that one word, you made Osamu want to blow his load- feeling his hips stutter before stilling inside of you and releasing his cum. you whined as you felt him fill you up, your husband had always came a lot- but something about right now- this singular moment- made him give you everything he had.

Osamu looked down where the two of you were connected, seeing his and your cum mixing as it spilled out around his cock,“ fuck…” he said as he pulled out watching as more seeped out of your abused cunt. it would be a waste if you didn’t keep it all in, though. Osamu hummed as he fingered the cum back into you, making you let out a gasp from how overstimulated you already were.

“gotta make sure it sticks, baby.”

✿.｡.“ i’m having his baby ”.｡.✿

if you can’t tell, i love the miyas.

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[revelboo]

I smile like a madman everytime I see you post. Your writing is phenomenal and tysm for feeding starscream enthusiasts with a full course meal

Thank you for the kind words!

Everything is Alright Pt 29

Starscream x Reader-weird human things

• Throughout the day, he replays that sleepy little mumble over and over, obsessing over that tired whine of protest at being separated from him. That unsettled feeling in his spark is growing, that consuming need to have you with him. To be able to touch you and reassure himself you’re there. And maybe you feel that way, too. Why else had you sounded like that? It’s not only your voice that lingers, he keeps thinking of how soft you’d been against him when he’d been mass displaced. How you’d fit against him, that rogue thought circling again and again. Taboo and dangerous.

• Your excitement somewhat falters as you finally look up from your treasure. “You guys destroyed a Bath and Body Works, didn’t you?” You ask, popping the top on one to smell it and wondering if you should at least feel guilty about being so happy for the soap if there’s a building on fire in town. Possibly mass casualties.

• “We destroyed a truck delivering Bath and Body Works,” Rumble says with a shrug. “Those trucks burn really good,” Frenzy pipes up, grinning like a little psycho as your face pales and you make a mental note to keep anything flammable away from him. “The driver escaped into the woods after soiling himself,” Ravage adds, rolling onto his back to stretch his paws over his head and you inhale. Because the Cybertronian, death cat has little toe beans on the pads of his metal paws. You have to bite into the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something, because it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. And you’re sure it’d just make Ravage furious if you start baby talking him like you would a kitten, but toe beans.

• It doesn’t take much to convince them to escort you to the wash racks or for them to agree to stand guard at the door so you’re not discovered. Frenzy all too happily pointing out just how bad you stink as if you’re not very aware of it. Your annoyance falls away when you realize that tucked in a corner is a cassette sized space that you can reach the controls for by standing up on tiptoe. You use almost an entire bottle of soap scrubbing your skin and hair clean and just enjoying the heat of the water. It’s only the sound of Rumble banging a fist on the door that makes you reluctantly leave that warmth. Only to realize you didn’t think about a way to dry off after, you’d been too excited to be clean. Groaning, you pull on your ugly, floral dress, hating the way it clings to your wet skin.

• Rumble makes a sound remarkably like a snort when he sees you. Muttering to Frenzy that wet humans just look sad. And you probably do look like a drowned rat, so you can’t even muster the energy to be offended. Exhaling, you wrap your arms around yourself and follow them back to Starscream’s quarters. Freezing and dripping the whole way. The cassettes don’t linger, as soon as you’re back inside, they’re gone and you’re oddly disappointed at being left alone on the floor.

• Wings sagging tiredly, Starscream lets himself into his quarters and his optics slide to where the human should be. And isn’t. Soundwave again? Anger and fear beginning to thrum through him, the sound of your voice calling out to him gives him pause. There you are. “Why are you down there?” He growls, bending to curl his servos around you and shifting you to cradle in his palm. “You’re wet.” He touches a servo to your damp hair, venting as you shiver. Wet and cold, and annoyance lifts his wings. “For Primus’s sake.”

• Swallowing, you stare at your hands in your lap as you sit in his hand, because you can’t look at him. Your mind keeps circling back to that dream and wondering about alien anatomy. Surely he doesn’t have those parts. Why would he? But then why does he have what he calls a glossa, a tongue, that’s currently sliding over his denta to linger on the sharp points where his canines would be if he’d been human as he frowns down at you? And that too human face of his is all sharp, strong lines. Your own face heats as you drop your stare to his canopy since that’s safer than gawking at him. Rumbling softly, he uses the tip of a servo to force your chin up to meet his optics. Oh, you’re definitely in trouble. Your stupid, treacherous brain pointing out that, alien or not, he’s handsome. “I got soap,” you manage weakly, because you have to say something.

• “I see that,” he grumbles, keeping your chin up with that servo. Why won’t you look him in the optics? He runs a second servo over your cheek, watching you become even more flustered at the touch. Another weird human thing? Giving up for the time being, he carries you to the berth and reclines, gently depositing you on his chassis since he knows you like to soak in his heat. When he slides a servo down your spine, you just press your face against him with a frustrated noise that sounds suspiciously like a groan. Definitely a weird human thing, he vents softly.

Previous Next

[woso-dreamzzz]

Blood Sugar

England Lionesses x Teen!Reader

Summary: You have a hypo during a match

Your sugar levels were fine at the start of the match.

You'd checked them before you went out. They were fine and it's not like your diabetes were a new thing. You knew how to control them.

"Looking good?" Alessia asks as you press your monitor against the patch attached to your arm.

It takes a few seconds for it to flash up but you nod.

"Good."

She grins, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "Excellent. Can't have one of our midfielders out of it. Who else will feed me balls?"

You roll your eyes. "Don't act like I'm the only one doing my job."

Lessi pinches your cheek. "But you're my favourite! Look at you! All cute and tiny!"

"Leave me alone!"

You try to shove her away but she just holds onto you firmer.

You'd known Alessia for years. You used to live next door to each other before she went to college in America and she'd been obsessed with you ever since you got placed into her arms as a baby.

She'd been overjoyed to see you on the team sheet for the Euro's and then now for the Finalissima. It helped, of course, that you and Alessia had racked up the most assist to goal pairings on the entire team.

"Leave her alone, Less," Leah says with an eye roll," We need her in tip-top shape, not looking like a tomato."

Alessia huffs as you put away your glucose monitor and dart around her, taking refuge with Keira and Lucy. You stick your tongue out at her as you pass.

You feel good during the first half, feeding the ball to Tooney, who scores. You feel good during halftime too, though you forget to check your glucose monitor.

You'd had it in your hand ready and waiting but Mary had caught you in conversation for the entirety of the break and it had completely slipped your mind.

Things took a turn for the worst about halfway through the second half. Your arms suddenly felt too heavy for your body and your mouth had gotten very dry, very quickly.

You sway on your feet and just manage to get the ball out from under your feet and to Keira to run up to Brazil's half. You stumble a little bit.

You're sweating now too, badly. You're sweating too much even for someone who has been on the pitch for nearly ninety minutes. You can feel your legs shaking too and you have to back up to keep your footing.

"Hey, what's going on? Is something wrong?"

The thick scouse accent from behind you means you've bumped into Alex and you practically go limp against her. She notices that too and immediately makes sure you stay upright.

Your head flops back like your neck can no longer support it. It's probably for the best because your vision has gone blurry and your head is swimming.

It takes all your concentration to move your lips in some semblance of words even though it comes out all garbled and slurred.

"'m goin' to pass out soon," You manage to say," Low sugar, I thin'." You draw in a ragged breath. "Meds have got...got..."

"Hey!" Alex shakes you. "The medics have got a...?"

"Gotta gluca...a gluca-"

You don't get to finish your sentence because you got fully limp now. Alex lays you on the ground, gesturing wildly to the medics and to the ref and to everyone who will see.

Leah's the first person to come skidding in, her hand immediately going to your pulse.

"What happened?!"

"I dont know!" Alex replies," She suddenly went all funny. She's sweating buckets! Er..." She shakes her head as she tries to clear her thoughts. "She said something about the medics having a...a gluca-something? I don't know. She passed out before she could finish."

"A glucagon injection," Alessia says as she comes running in as well," Fuck, her sugar levels must have tanked."

"She's right," The first medic says, shoving a glucose monitor onto your sensor," These are low. It's a wonder she didn't pass out earlier."

No one's really listening to him, least of all Alessia, who's rummaging through the first aid kit in search of something. Another medic is waving for a stretcher and a third one is pulling up the bottom of your shorts and cleaning off the top of your thigh with a cotton swab doused in alcohol.

"And she didn't hit her head?" The fourth medic is asking Alex, who shakes her head.

"No. She stumbled a bit but I caught her. She didn't hit anything. Just passed straight out in my arms."

Leah doesn't really know what else to do but stare. The whole team has joined them, forming a huddle around your unconscious body to block the cameras from seeing.

It's a pretty severe thing happening because the officials have even let Sarina on the pitch and she has joined the huddle with the rest of the staff to keep your privacy.

When Leah manages to tear her gaze from you, it lands on Alessia. She's at your other side, ripping open a small plastic box in a hurry. She uncaps a small glass bottle of powder and stabs a syringe into it, pushing all of the liquid into it.

She shakes the bottle a few times before turning it upside down and drawing it all back into the syringe.

"You need to roll her over once it's in," She says and Leah and a few of the medics immediately grab parts of you to pull on.

"Alessia," The first medic says," Do you need me to do this?"

"I've done it before!" Alessia snaps," As soon as I take the needle out, roll her in case she throws up. Okay? One. Two. Three!"

The needle finds a home in the top of your thigh, the area that had been disinfected. Alessia jabs the needle in and pushes down. As soon as she takes it out, Leah tugs on your shoulder to get you on your side.

"I need to come off," Alessia says to Sarina as you're carefully loaded onto a stretcher," I have to be with her. She'll be disorientated when she wakes up."

"Go," Sarina says," Be with her."

The match ends in a penalty shootout but everyone seems to be in the same mind because the medal ceremony is delayed until after you've been checked.

You're looking a lot better when Leah and the others burst into the physio's room. You're sitting upright with Alessia by your side, forcing a sugary drink down your throat.

It's clear that this has been going on for a while because there's another empty can of your favourite nearby and a packet of haribos in your hand.

"You scared us," Leah says.

"Did we win?"

"No talking!" Alessia snaps," Drink! All of it!"

You flash an amused smile at Leah but do as you're told.

"We won," Mary confirms," Penalty shootout but we did it. Could have done without the scare though."

"Sorry," You say with a wince," If it helps, I didn't plan it."

"Thank god for that," Alex mutters," Because that wasn't fun, kid. I thought you were dying."

"Just a bad hypo," You say and Lessi swats you.

"Stop making fun of dangerous situations," She scolds," I don't like having to give you injections so often."

You roll your eyes. "You've done it twice in my entire life!"

"Three times now! You're going to give me a heart attack one day."

"Well, can you have that heart attack later? We've got medals to collect."

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 14: Me Too, Baby

Joel helps you. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 13, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected P in V sex. Fingering. Childcare struggles. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 6.7k

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Joel wasn’t sure what he expected to find at his front door at almost midnight on a Friday night but it wasn’t you with a screaming baby in your arms. 

“Please,” you said again, your eyes red and wide and there were little rivers of mascara that ran down your cheeks. 

“You’re OK, Goldie,” he said. “I’ve got you, you’re OK.” 

He moved without thinking, just taking the carrier gently from your trembling hands. He had to almost pry it away from you, your fingers clinging to it like a life raft. He carefully tucked the handle over his arm and put his other arm around your shoulders, guiding you into his house because he wasn’t sure he could trust you to just walk in all on your own. 

“I’m s-s-s-,” you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to contain the racking sobs that were making your whole body shake. “I’m sorry, she just… she won’t stop crying and I can’t get her to eat and…” 

“It’s OK,” he said gently, taking you and your wailing niece to the kitchen. He set the carrier gingerly on the table and took you by the shoulders. “Goldie, when did she last eat?” 

“I… I don’t know,” you said, getting worked up again from what little calm you’d managed to gain  only moments before. “I got her to take some of a bottle earlier but not enough and that was… that was… what time is it?” 

He looked you up and down, frowning. He’d known things with Anna and Ellie were bad but he’d never seen you like this, never seen you out of control like this. 

“It’s OK,” he said. “She’s probably hungry…” 

“I know she’s hungry!” You snapped before you gasped and clamped your hands over your mouth, new tears welling up in your eyes before you pulled your hands away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s not your fault I can’t take care of her, I…” 

Joel hushed you gently and wished he could just hold you for a while, get you to breathe, but that would have to wait until after he got Ellie to settle. 

“I’m going to feed her,” Joel said calmly, his hands still on your shoulders as he guided you to a chair at the kitchen table. “You sit, it’s OK, I’ve got you, both of you.” 

He went to the pantry and got one of the cans of formula he’d picked up from the store earlier that day. You’d texted him the night before after getting home from Ellie’s appointment, worried that the doctor hadn’t told you anything useful. He remembered the formula struggle with Sarah, how it took what felt like a small eternity for the pediatrician to tell him to change what he was feeding her when it seemed like all she would do was cry and all Joel wanted to do was take whatever was hurting her away. He didn’t want to put anything else on you and Anna so he just picked it up, planning to bring it to Anna’s tomorrow afternoon. 

He made the bottle quickly as you sat as his table, a glassy look in your eyes as you stared straight ahead and Ellie cried. He tested the formula temperature on his skin before going and taking Ellie delicately from her carseat. 

“I hear you, baby girl,” he said quietly, tucking her into his body just so. He angled her head and, after some coaxing, got her to take the bottle. She was still breathing in little, worked up huffs but she was eating, quieting as she did. “There you go, you’re alright.” 

“How did you do that?” You sniffed, drying your eyes on the backs of your wrists.

“We’ll see how she does with it,” Joel said, looking over at you. “Sarah was real rough early on, too. Wouldn’t eat for the life of her. Turns out she was allergic to somethin’ in the formula and it was upsetting her stomach and there was something about the angle I was holdin’ her at too… anyway, I got some of the formula that worked for her, figured I’d try the way I held her, too.” 

You just nodded before looking around yourself for a moment and then frowning. 

“What?” He asked, watching you was he walked slowly with your niece, bouncing her gently as she ate. 

“My bag,” you said, looking around. “I think I left it in the car, I wasn’t thinking, I wanted to write down what you were doing but I don’t have my notebook and I’m not sure I’ll remember it and…” 

“Goldie,” he said gently. “You’re alright.” 

You nodded and teared up again before closing your eyes and taking a deep, trembling breath. 

Ellie drank most of the bottle and fell asleep before finishing it. Joel swayed with her gently as he set the bottle on the counter. 

“Are you OK?” He asked, still moving with the baby in his arms to make sure she was good and out of it. You nodded quickly. “Good. Where’s Anna? Why do you have the baby?” 

“Anna…” your lips quivered and you hiccuped. “She… She left.” 

“What?” He gaped at you. “What do you mean she left, where is she?” 

“I don’t know,” your voice was thick and wet. “I don’t know if I should call the police, I’m afraid if I do they’ll find her all drugged out and arrest her but I wouldn’t even know where to start…” 

“What happened?” He asked, straining to keep the concern out of his voice. You were already close enough to a panic without his help. “Just… start at the beginning.” 

“We had Ellie’s appointment yesterday,” you said, taking a deep breath. “It didn’t go well, the doctor said he wanted to see us back in less than a week because she’s lost weight. Anna told him she’s been trying everything but… I don’t know, it felt like he didn’t really believe her. I took her home and said I would stay over last night but she told me no, she wanted to do it on her own… so then I went home and I was working and it was late and she texted me to see if I was home and then a few minutes later she texted me to check my porch and I did and Ellie was there, she was just there, in her carseat with her diaper bag and the can of formula and Anna was gone, she was just gone, I called her and she answered and told me she’d be back but I have no idea where she went or who she’s with and…” 

“Alright,” Joel cut you off before you fully panicked. “It’s alright, you got Ellie, it’s OK.” 

You just nodded again and he watched you for a moment. 

It was so unnatural, seeing you this way. You had always been so remarkably certain in his mind. You were the smartest person he’d ever met, you always had the answers, you knew what you were doing with your life. You had talent - so much goddamn talent - that it had never even really been a question. You had a path and the drive to find your way through it and, while you’d stumbled in some things, you were still you. This wasn’t you. 

“OK,” Joel said, the baby’s breaths having settled into the steady rhythm of deep sleep. “I’m gonna go set her down. You go to my room and sit down, OK? Sarah’s asleep, this hasn’t exactly been quiet…” 

“Sorry,” you said softly. 

He gave you a look. 

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here and comin’ here was smart. Just that I don’t want you feeling like you need to explain this to my daughter right now. We can deal with that in the morning once you’ve gotten some sleep. Now. My room. Go.” 

You nodded and got up slowly from the table and Joel walked behind you, up the stairs and down the hall. You went in his room and he went into the room he’d pretended was going to be an office when he’d bought this house even though he knew he’d never have a job that required an office. Instead, it had turned into a storage room for shit that wouldn’t do well in the garage and that he was too lazy to move to the attic. At least, it had until Anna had gotten pregnant. He’d cleaned it up then, getting Sarah’s old nursery stuff out of storage and cleaning off the cobwebs and the dust. He’d even set the crib mattress at the height that would be best for Ellie at this age, feeling like a dumbass as he’d done it - why would you be taking your newborn niece to his house? - but he was grateful for it now. 

He set her gently into the crib and she scrunched her face for a moment, like she was considering wailing again, but then she relaxed and settled there. He turned on the baby monitor - also from Sarah’s infancy, he’d been amazed at the technology in them now when he was helping you pick one for Anna - and pocketed the receiver before he crept out of the room, closing the door almost silently behind him. 

There was a glow of light from around the frame of his bedroom door and he tried not to think about the last time he’d shared a bed with you, how you’d both ended up when you had. 

He went to the kitchen and got one of the biggest cups he could find - one of those tall beer glasses he’d gotten at some Oktoberfest thing Tommy had dragged him to one year - and filled it with water. He grabbed a snack sized pack of almonds he had for Sarah’s lunches and went back upstairs, taking a deep breath before opening the door to his bedroom. 

You were sitting at the foot of his bed, your arms folded and clutched around your stomach as you stared straight ahead. 

“Hey,” he said, more to say something than to actually say that. You looked at him, like you’d only just noticed he was there. You’d cleaned up the streaks of mascara. “Here, guessing you’ve eaten about as much as she has today…” 

He set the receiver to the baby monitor on his dresser before he handed you the almonds and sat beside you on the bed, his legs stretched far out in front of him. You opened the small bag and poured a few nuts into your palm before putting them in your mouth as though they were a handful of pills. 

“This too,” he said as you chewed, handing you the water. 

You nodded and took the glass, your fingers brushing his as you did, and you drank in big, desperate gulps, Joel’s hand coming to rest at the small of your back, slipping below the hem of your shirt to find the soft of your skin there and when he did, the tears started again, less overwrought and more like a release of some deeply held pain. 

“Talk to me,” he said quietly. “What’s going on.” 

You looked at him then, cheeks wet and eyes red and he just wanted to take you away from everything that had ever hurt you. 

“I can’t do this, Joel,” you said softly. 

“Goldie…” 

“I can’t,” you said it with such certainty. “I’m going to ruin this baby, I’m going to ruin her and she’s going to be stuck living with my inability to take care of her the way that she needs. She’s going to be the one who has to suffer because of it, not me, her and she doesn’t deserve that, Joel, she doesn’t! And she’s… she’s so tiny and perfect and she deserves someone who can give her everything and I can’t. I wish I could, I would do anything for her but I can’t and…” 

“What makes you think you can’t?” He cut you off as you started to edge toward hyperventilation. 

“Look at what I’ve done so far!” You stood up so fast it made Joel flinch a little. “I’ve had her not even a day and I’ve already failed her! Anna trusted me with her daughter and I’ve done nothing but fuck up! I wasn’t good enough to help Anna when she needed me and she had to leave to stay sane and she left me with her fucking kid and I…” 

“Why do you think this is on you?” Joel cut you off, watching as you paced, resisting the urge to just hold onto you, giving you a chance to work some of the nervous energy out. “Babies… they’re fuckin’ hard sometimes, they just are. They can’t tell you what’s wrong, they don’t really understand it themselves, all you can really do is try and figure it out and yeah, sometimes that’s a lot of trial and error…” 

“Trial and error that I am not built to do!” 

“Why do you say that?” He asked, not able to keep from touching you any longer. He got up and took your shoulders in his hands.

“Because it’s true!” You looked at him, your lip quivering and you seemed so small in that moment, like he could gather you up and carry you with him forever. 

“Why?” He asked. “Baby, you’re not makin’ sense, you need to explain this to me because I’m fuckin’ lost…” 

“You really think I’m someone who should be looking after a child?” You asked, eyes wide. 

“Yes!” Joel said, baffled, looking you up and down like there would be some physical indication of whatever defect you were talking about. “I’d trust you with Sarah in a heartbeat…” 

You scoffed. 

“Why shouldn’t I?” He continued like you hadn’t made a sound at all. “I’ve told you before, I’m glad you’re in her life, I’m thankful for it every damn day! She needs someone like you - hell, not someone like you she needs you, why wouldn’t she?” 

“Because I’m too selfish!” You all but screamed it, closing your eyes when you did. 

Joel had the strangest urge to laugh. It wasn’t funny but the concept was so ridiculous he didn’t see what else he was supposed to do. 

“What?” He said instead. 

“I’m not capable of doing what it takes to take care of a child,” you opened your eyes and looked at him, pleading. “I’m just not, it’s not in me…” 

“Do you not want kids?” He asked, brows raised. The question stung, as if you’d want kids with him either way so it didn’t matter but it didn’t sound like you. You liked kids. You always had. He didn’t understand. 

“What?” You looked back at him, so baffled that it calmed your crying. “No, of course I want kids but it’s not a good idea for me, you know me you must know that, you must see that, you…” 

“No,” he cut you off. “I don’t, I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby, you’re not making any damn sense and…” 

“I’m not capable of doing what is necessary for a child!” You said. “I’m too… I’m in my own head all the time, in my own head or on the page or anywhere else but I’m not reliable enough or nurturing enough and he knew that and you must know it, too and…” 

“Who knew it?” Joel said. “I still don’t…” 

“Gale!” You choked on his name and Joel’s hold on you tightened. “He knew, maybe you’re just not close enough to me now to see it but he could see it, he could see me and he knew that I would ruin a baby and I’m ruining Ellie, I’m ruining Anna’s baby, I ruin everything and I’m trying, I’m trying so hard but I just can’t!” 

“You’re not ruining anything!” He said, eyes searching yours. “That… that fucker? He didn’t see you, Goldie. He never did.” 

“Joel…” 

“He didn’t,” Joel said, his grip sliding up and over your shoulders to your neck, your face, holding what felt like the world in his hands. “He never saw you, Goldie girl, never. He saw someone he could fucking manipulate and use but he never saw you because you… Fuck, baby! You are everything and he doesn’t get to take that away from you! You… you are brilliant and fucking beautiful and you are one of the most caring people I’ve ever met. You couldn’t ruin anything if you fucking tried and that… that fucking guy doesn’t get to tell you otherwise! Understand?” 

You just stared at him for what felt like an eternity, your face held firm in his hands, your tears on his palm, and the next thing he knew he was kissing you. 

Your lips were desperate on his, more than he’d ever felt before. You kissed him in the same way you’d fucked yourself against him in the hotel, that moment he would have given anything to go back to and given anything to take back. 

He hadn’t been able to get it out of his head the days he was away from you. He’d made himself come over and over to the memory of you pressed tightly against him, hoping it would eventually work its way out of his system and he could go back to thinking of you as Goldie, his best friend who he loved more than almost anything, not the woman he couldn’t look at without wanting. After three days, he gave up. He just hoped that, some day, it would fade and he could find a way to move on. 

But now your arms were around his neck and your body was pressed tight to his and your tears were on his face and your kiss tasted like almonds and salt and he knew there would be no coming back from this. Not for him. 

He guided you back toward the bed, turning you so your legs were against the mattress and you eased yourself down onto it, fingers tangling in his hair, your lips never leaving his. 

You moved back toward the middle of the bed and Joel moved with you, one knee coming onto the mattress and then the other, one between your legs as he tugged your shirt up and over your head, casting it aside on the floor. You pulled at his and he helped you take it off, breaking the kiss with you long enough then to watch as you deftly unhooked your bra and slipped it off, the straps sliding down your arms, the cups the last thing to leave your body and then you were bared to him there, the plush fullness of your breasts and curve of your waist and the way your eyes looked up at him round and deep and needing him in the way he’d always dreamed that you would. 

“Joel,” you whispered and he kissed you again, his hands trying to go everywhere all at once. He needed to touch you everywhere, memorize everything, take all of you into himself in a way he never had with another person. He’d had the chance with you once before and he’d squandered it, too lost in the fact that everything was intense and new to really understand that it was happening with you. He had the strangest desire to swallow you up. To let the essence of you dissolve on his tongue like sugar so he could taste you and hold you within himself forever.

Instead, he found satisfaction in your skin. You were so soft below his touch and his fingers lingered on the small things it felt like only he could know about you, little swells and creases, things he was sure you would worry about him noticing but he loved them. All these little things that made you human, made you you and he wanted to know them all. It felt like he already should. 

Your hips rocked up against him and you whimpered against his mouth as his hands skimmed over your waist to your breasts and he took them in his hands, marveling at just how fucking good you felt. Nothing had ever felt this good, nothing should feel this good but you did. It seemed forbidden, somehow, like it had the morning after prom and you both realized what you’d done. But even that cold memory couldn’t take away from this moment, here with you, warm and soft beneath him. 

He pulled his lips from yours to kiss down your cheek, your chin, your throat, taking a nipple in his mouth as he cradled the warmth of your tit in his hand, sucking and licking at you, making you gasp and your back arch. Your hands trembled as they found his shoulders, sliding slowly over his skin and down his back like you were savoring him the way he wanted to savor you. 

Joel kissed over your skin, trailing his lips and tongue along to your other breast, tasting that one, too, as you took a shaky and desperate breath below him. He kept going down your body then, working his way gradually lower until he reached the waistband of your jeans. He unbuttoned them and slowly, carefully, unzipped them, hooking his fingers around the denim and the soft cotton of your underwear but your hands met his and he lifted himself from you enough to look you in the eye. 

“Want me to stop touchin’ you?” He asked, praying that you wouldn’t say yes. 

“No,” you whispered but you still looked uncertain. 

“Trust me?” He asked, watching you closely. You nodded quickly. He leaned forward to press a soft, lingering kiss above your navel before looking back at you. “I’ve got you, baby. Don’t worry.” 

“Please,” you said softly, your voice shaky. 

He turned back to the work of pulling off your clothes, tugging your pants down with you lifting your hips from the bed to help. Joel stood as he bared the last of your skin, your thighs pressed tightly together, feet propped up on the bed, your arms covering your stomach as best they could. 

“Can I see you?” He asked as he opened his own jeans. “All of you?” 

“You,” you closed your eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. “You want that?” 

“I do,” he said. “More than anything.” 

You straightened your legs gradually, relaxing them as you went, your hands sliding slowly, almost sensually over your stomach as you did. 

“Want you to touch yourself,” he said as he took hold of the waist of his pants and the top of his underwear. Your eyes went wide. “You… you ever think about me when you do?” 

“Yes,” you whispered and you closed your eyes again, swallowing harshly. “All the time.” 

“Show me?” 

Your hand trembled as you slipped it between your thighs, brushing over your clit for a moment before moving lower, the heel of your palm pressed tight to the top of your slit as he watched, entranced, as your finger slid inside yourself, whispering his name as you did.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed as he watched you, your other hand moving to take hold of your tit, squeezing it and he had to remind himself to move instead of just watching you do the things he was ashamed to admit he’d dreamed of you doing. 

He stripped and ran his hands over the inside of your calves to your thighs, opening your legs to him, his eyes all but locked on the way you were working just a single finger in and out of yourself. His hand covered yours and you gasped, freezing when he did. 

“Keep goin’,” he said, gravel in his voice. You swallowed, hard, but obeyed and, when your finger was all but fully outside of your entrance, he covered it with his own, the wet heat of you on your own skin intoxicating.You slowly, firmly, pressed back into yourself and he followed your lead, his thicker, longer finger pushing in alongside your own. 

You moaned as he did, the sound seeming to come from deep within you as he slid inside, something almost broken about it. He moaned, too. He couldn’t help it, already lost in just how goddamn warm and tight and wet and soft you were inside and he thought, for a moment, maybe he hadn’t imagined just how good it had been with you so many years ago. Maybe it hadn’t been all in his head, some memory gilded by the haze of youth and by his inexperience and by the fact that it was with you. Maybe being with you was that much better than everyone else he’d ever touched. 

“I’ve got you,” he said and you nodded, slipping your finger out of yourself and Joel felt you completely grip some part of him for the first time in so long and he groaned at it, watching where part of him disappeared into you. 

He worked you slowly, firmly that way for a minute, until your hips were moving almost of their own accord and he could feel the softest parts of you on the tip of his finger. He added another one and felt you stretch a little to accommodate him and you whimpered as you took him, one of your hands groping your own tit, the other twisting in the sheets as your legs fell even further open. He scissored his fingers apart inside you, opening you to him and your back arched and you ground yourself down on his hand, your pussy tightening around him. 

“That’s it,” he said, not even caring that he sounded out of his mind with need. “C’mon and come for me, you’re real tight, need you to come.” 

“Joel,” you panted. “I… fuck!” 

“I’ve got you,” he said gently. “It’s OK, just let go for me, don’t hold back, never hold back with me, just let go.” 

You turned your head and buried your face in his blankets and moaned as you fell apart and he couldn’t help but watch where his fingers were inside you, how your body fluttered and clutched at him, how your chest rose and fell, how your back arched, how fucking beautiful you looked when - for just a moment - he was able to drive every worry from your mind. 

He worked you through your orgasm, his fingers stilling inside you as your walls did and he pulled himself from you slowly, gently, his skin shining with your pleasure before he spread it over his cock, harder than he could ever remember it being. 

But when he looked to your face, your eyes were wide and uncertain and he felt his stomach drop. 

“Is this what you want?” He asked quietly. “Because…” 

You nodded quickly, cutting him off before he could finish. 

“I want you,” you said, sounding breathless and fucked out. “Please, I want you so bad.” 

He nodded then and moved the head of his cock to brush over your slit, trailing up and down and thrusting a little against your swollen clit. He gently, reverently, spread you open for him, exposing your grasping entrance to him and he had to resist the urge to press his lips to you there, to slide his tongue inside and devour whatever pleasure you would let him take. But he was already afraid that this wasn’t going to last as long as he wanted and he didn’t want to risk coming before he was even inside you. 

Joel spread one hand on the soft of your stomach, the other fisted his cock as he pressed himself into you, a moment of resistance before he was enveloped in your tight, wet heat. 

“Fuck,” he panted, watching where you were joined, just the first two inches of him inside you but you moaned all the same and suddenly, he wasn’t nearly close enough to you, there was too much of your skin he wasn’t touching. He looked to your face and you seemed to have the same thought he did, eyes wide, pupils blown. 

“Please,” you whispered, like wanting him was a secret. “I… I need…” 

“I know,” he said, covering your body with his own, one hand slipping below your back to hold you tighter to him, the other finding your thigh to pull your leg against him. You closed your eyes and nodded, a blissed out look on your face. “Me too, baby.” 

He drove himself deeper into you, memorizing the way your body opened for him as he fit himself into the cradle of your hips and he was aware, suddenly, he hadn’t put on a condom. It had been years since he’d been inside someone without one - since the night Sarah was conceived - and it was a heady thing, realizing that there was nothing separating him and you. But instead of any underlying fear or spark of wrongness like he’d felt years ago with Sarah’s mother, he just felt right. Like this was how he was supposed to be, a part of you, breathing the same air and feeling your throbbing pulse and shuddering breaths from inside. You opened your eyes then and looked at him, your gaze locked on his as he filled you totally, feeling his head brush the back of your channel. You tilted your hips just so and he moaned a stuttering moan and marveled at just how clearly he could feel you like this. 

He kissed you then, your mouth warm and soft as he ground himself deep inside of you, you grinding your hips up against his, your hands on his back, fingers pressing into his skin as he worked himself into you. He was reluctant to pull back even a little, the satisfaction he found from being this close to you too short lived. Almost immediately, he needed more, he needed closer, he needed you to let him inside your skin where your blood pulsed and lungs filled because anything short of that was not enough. Instead, he kept himself buried to the hilt within you, totally enveloped by you, the wet of your come making a sticky mess of him and he didn’t care. He hitched your leg higher, found ways to be deeper, bodies in total alignment when he pulled his mouth from yours to move to your neck, kissing and sucking at the delicate skin of your throat. 

“Joel,” your fingers grew tighter on his back, like you wanted him impossibly closer, too. “I’m going to come, I…” 

“Not gonna last when you do,” he said, his own climax already so much closer than he wanted it to be. He wished he could spend hours inside you like this, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you. “I…” 

“Don’t leave me,” you tightened your leg on his hip, your arms pulling him so close to you. “Please don’t leave me.” 

“Not leaving,” he said, fucking into you a little harder, pressing as deep as he possibly could with each and every motion, brushing his lips against the skin of your throat. “Never leaving, you’re OK.” 

“Joel,” you said again, your fingers going from his back to his hair, pulling his face from your neck. Your eyes searched his for a moment before you pulled his mouth to yours and kissed him, rocking your hips up against him before holding them there and he felt you come apart then, in a way that seemed like your entire being was throbbing around him so hot and tight it almost hurt before he gave into his own orgasm, his fingers pressing deep into the softness of your thigh, the small of your back, holding you as close as he could as he emptied himself into you. 

He wasn’t sure he’d ever come that hard in his life, not even his first time with you 15 years earlier, pulse after pulse reaching from somewhere deep inside himself to give it you. Because, he reasoned, damn near everything that was him belonged to you, anyway. 

Joel collapsed when he was done, trying to be conscious of his weight so as to not crush you beneath him but his mind and limbs were buzzing and he couldn’t seem to manage anything beyond just existing inside you for a moment. 

After a minute, though, he came back into himself. He lifted his body from yours slowly, gently, you still breathless below him and pulled his already softening cock from your warmth, a thread of your come and his still connecting your bodies until the tie broke. 

He lay carefully beside you, watching you closely, waiting for you to panic or run. But you didn’t. You turned your head to look at him, your eyes ranging over him and you felt so far away. He didn’t like that. 

“Here,” he said, nudging you onto your side with the arm that was still below you so you were facing him. He pulled you closer before brushing your hair back from your forehead, your eyes closing as he did. “I’ve got you, OK?” 

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you pressed yourself close to him, your face buried in his shoulder and your arm hooking around his back and he trailed his fingers up and down the path of your spine as he felt you fall asleep in his arms, feeling like you and him were right where you belonged for the first time since prom. 

May 2008, the Tuesday after prom 

Why was Ricky always fucking late? 

Joel was pacing below the stadium, his footsteps echoing ominously off the concrete. Ricky’s last block was free, too. He told Joel he could meet him here, he said he’d come as soon as he was done with class and where was he? Not fucking here, that’s for damn sure. 

He pulled out his phone and checked the time. There were only a few minutes left of the school day now and this wasn’t a conversation he wanted overheard if he could fucking help it. 

“Goddammit,” he muttered to himself, clenching and unclenching his jaw. 

“Sorry!” Ricky ran over, hiking his backpack strap up on his arm and looking back over his shoulder. “Ran into Kasey on my way out and she was a little pissed I wouldn’t tell her what the fuck I was running off to do so this had better be good…” 

“I need your help,” Joel said, looking around him one last time, as though anyone really gave a shit about what he’d be saying but still. “And I need you to keep your mouth fucking shut about it, OK?” 

“Sure, man,” he said, frowning. “Stays between us, what’s goin’ on?” 

Joel crossed his arms, his thumb worrying at his elbow and he paced, his tongue in his throat now that he had to actually fucking own up to this. 

“You and Kasey,” he said, watching Ricky. “You two are fucking, right?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I mean we’ve been dating two years, I’d fucking hope so.” 

“Right,” Joel nodded, his stomach in knots. 

“Jesus, Joel, look like somethin’s eating you alive,” Ricky said. “What, you get herpes or something?” 

“What?” Joel gave him a look. “No, Jesus, I just…” 

He paced for a moment before coming to a stop in front of Ricky. 

“You know I went to prom with Goldie, right?” 

Ricky frowned and said your name, something that sounded so familiar but so foreign to Joel. 

“Yeah,” he continued. “Y’all looked good together.” 

“Right,” Joel nodded, then quickly added. “Thanks…” 

“So,” Ricky said after a minute. “What about it?” 

“Well,” Joel ground his teeth for a moment. “Well we… we had sex.”

“Oh shit!” Ricky laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good for you, man, she looked hot as fuck that night. She good? I bet she’s good, she looks like…” 

“Hey, fuck you!” Joel yelled and shoved him. “Don’t talk about her like that!” 

“Woah, sorry, fuck!” Ricky said, his hands up. “Didn’t mean anything by it, she just looks… anyway, what’s the problem? You’ve had a thing for her forever, right?” 

“Yeah, but,” Joel said, his voice low. “I didn’t use a condom.”

“Oh shit,” Ricky said. “Why not? You’re a dumbass but I didn’t think you were that much of a dumbass.” 

“I didn’t have a condom,” he hissed. “It’s… it’s Goldie. I didn’t think that was going to happen, not in a million years did I think that was going to fucking happen and I just…” 

“Just what?” He asked. 

“What if I fucked up everything for her?” Joel asked. “What do I do? What if I got her pregnant? You and Kasey must have talked about that shit, right? Had a scare or… or something? My mom checks the fucking computer at home and everything at the school is blocked so I can’t even Google this shit…” 

“Shit, man,” Ricky sighed, his eyes wide. “We haven’t had to deal with that. Fuck knows we’re not perfect about condoms but she’s on the pill. I don’t know if there’s even a clinic around here, I could ask Kasey, she might have some friends…” 

Joel just nodded, still trying not to panic. It felt like he’d been on the verge of panic since the morning after prom and realized what he’d done. How had he done something so fucking stupid? How had he been so goddamn reckless? With you of all people? 

He’d taken the fucking sex ed classes - which was more than his mother had ever said to him, only ever saying “just wait until you’re married before you go thinking about that” - and he knew that it only took one time, one time of him being a fucking idiot and giving in to what he wanted so bad he thought it might swallow him whole if he didn’t to ruin everything. He knew he might have gotten you pregnant and it wasn’t fucking fair that it was your life that would get wrecked because of his stupid fucking choices. He’d trade places if it were possible, make it so he was the one who had to go through all the bullshit and get all the stares for becoming a teenaged parent but it was always worse for girls. He wasn’t stupid, he’d seen it at school and he couldn’t handle seeing that happen to you. Especially if that meant you needing to drop out of college and derail your entire life, everything great you were going to do, because he’d fucked up. 

“Well, hey, at least it’s her, right?” Ricky said, pulling Joel out of his own head. Joel just looked at him. “Could be worse, at least if… you know. At least it’s your friend.” 

“No,” Joel shook his head. “It’s Goldie. I wish it were anyone else. It’d be better if it were anyone else.”

Joel heard signs of people nearby and sighed. 

“Shit,” he said. “School’s out… I need to go try and find her, pick up Tommy…” 

“Maybe it’d be better if you gave it a few days with her,” Ricky said, looking Joel up and down. “You’re freaking out, man. You’re only gonna freak her out, too. Just… Calm down, get your shit together, then talk to her. It’s not like she’s going anywhere, right? I’ll help you come up with a plan just in case but don’t talk to her while you’re freaking the fuck out. It’ll just make it worse.” 

“Right,” Joel nodded. “That’s… you’re right.” 

Ricky clapped him on the shoulder again, giving him a friendly shake. 

“Y’all will figure it out,” he said. “If anyone can, it’s you two.” 

Joel nodded, trying to sort out his thoughts and figure out if he even could actually stay away from you any longer than he already had. 

But, he thought, Ricky was right. You were the smartest person Joel knew and, for you, he was pretty sure he could figure out anything. 

Next Chapter

A/N: Alrighty, I think we have most of the missing pieces to the Goldie disappearance now, right? Yeah? Cool.

I hope this chapter was worth the wait! I know it's been a long time coming for these two and they certainly still have a LOT to work through - the angst is still gonna be angstening for a bit yet because it's me BUT at least they got this far. Thanks for coming along for the ride! I really couldn't love and appreciate you all more.

Love you!!

[borbygorlinbbqworld]

The SIL

---

It had been a long time since you'd seen your older brother and his much younger wife. They had moved to some nice house in the suburbs after they got married while you stayed behind in a crappy apartment.

She had always been way too good for him. Born a jackass, his only requirements for a wife was someone hot, and someone who did everything for him.

Not only was she the perfect little domesticated housewife, but she was a stunner. Brilliant smile, lustful hazel eyes, long auburn hair... and a huge fucking rack. The first time you met her, you were positive they had to be implants, but after having watched how much they bounced and jiggled when she walked, you realized she had just been blessed by the gods.

Your brother was super fucking lucky.

So once you'd heard he had walked out on her just as she'd delivered twins, you knew it was the right thing to do to check up on her and her babies.

Your brother was an ass for getting her pregnant and then leaving. The least you could to do help put was bring some food over, maybe help out a bit and let Anna know not all men were garbage.

So, casserole in hand, you rang the doorbell.

You heard footsteps at the door, then the sound of someone moving the eye hole to peer through.

"Jack?!"

She opened the door, looking a little embarrassed, and your jaw nearly fell to the floor.

Pregnancy had been extremely kind to Anna. Her breasts appeared to have nearly doubled in size, stretching out the tiny spaghetti strap tank top to the max. The outline of fat, juicy areolas and hard nipples were tantalizing through the near see-through fabric.

She tugged at the shirt, doing her best to keep herself as covered as possible despite spilling out the front and sides of the tank top. "I'm so sorry, I... I wasn't really expecting anyone..."

"It's okay!" You managed to choke the words out, but ripping your eyes away from her massive tits was more impressive. You held up the casserole. "I brought food for you guys."

"Oh my goodness, you're so sweet!" She nearly looked ready to cry. She took you by the hand and led you into the house. "Come on in."

Each step made her nipples bounce and sway despite her top being so tight against her breasts.

She must have been so full of milk...

"So uh... twins, huh? How's that been?" You swallowed hard, sneaking another look at her giant mammaries. Your dick twitched at you noticed small damp spots form at her nipples. "They must be hungry kids..."

"Quadruplets, actually." She put a hand to her breast, checking for milk as more started leaking through her shirt. "And honestly, not hungry enough. I just put them down for a nap after a huge feed, but I... I'm still so engorged... "

Four.

Four kids, this woman was feeding, and she was still leaking from being too full! Your mouth went dry; what you wouldn't give to be able to suck each of those things dry as you fucked her...

You watched as she pulled out her breast pump and pushed a button on it. "Crap... battery still hasn't finished charging..."

She blushed as the damp spots on her shirt started to drip onto the floor. "O-Oh..."

One little squeeze.

That's all it would take. One little squeeze of her swollen breasts, and her milk would have sprayed all over your face and tasted so good...

"I started selling my milk online," she continued. "I had to. Nowhere to store it when you make so fucking much every day..."

"H-How much?"

"Well, after my babies eat, the excess is about..." She trailed off, looking embarrassed. Wincing, she felt her other breast, causing a little to squirt through her shirt. Helplessly, she looked up at you. "About a gallon per breast."

You could have melted.

This woman was a fertility goddess, able to feed four babies, and God only knew how many else with her excess. But she was your sister in law; it would have been totally wrong to do the things you wanted with her.

And there were so many things you wanted... She might have only given birth a short while ago, but she exuded hormones that you knew begged for you to get her pregnant again.

She was in absolute heat, and your body couldn't stop picking up on it.

And if you did try anything... How many times would she let you thrust and put your seed in her as her breasts bounced back and forth? Would her tits get so full of milk it would immobilize her?

With how big they had swollen to in this pregnancy, she wasn't all that far off.

"A gallon, huh?"

She nodded, her breasts jiggling along with her. "And they're just so heavy all the time..." She turned her back to you and backed up. Even from behind, their large masses poked out the sides of her silhouette. "Lift them up for me?"

Your dick throbbed. She was asking you to touch her tits... No. Her voice was a whine, and she was practically begging you to touch them.

You obliged, and hoisted her heavy breasts into your hands. Immediately, she let out a sigh of relief; they felt incredibly heavy as you lifted them up and down, milk sloshing within the confines of her tight skin. Your thumbs rubbed the sides of her flesh, feeling out her glands until your hands were damped by her warm milk. It had streamed down from her teats, which looked even more prominent than before as you looked over her shoulder. Throbbing blue veins darkened her otherwise porcelain flesh.

She must have been super fucking full, ready to burst...

Before you knew what was happening, she spun around and pushed your shoulders downward, forcing you to your knees. The shirt that had already barely fit her to begin with looked like she had grown out of it before your eyes as her milk stretched her engorged tits. She struggled to lift it up and over her breasts, but she managed.

It left you face to face with massive dripping mammaries as you salivated and soaked your boxers with precum.

Biting her lip, she looked down at you in desperation. She leaned forward just enough so her nipple was a mere bredth away from your bottom lip. "Please...?"

You kissed it gently, causing her to let out a soft moan and a spurt of milk. Before you could continue teasing her, she shoved her teat into your mouth.

Immediately, your mouth filled with the sweet milk, and some dribbled down your chin. Rubbing your tongue against her swollen nipple made her cry out again, releasing more sweetness for you to feast upon. And feast you did; sucking, slurping, swallowing, her supply never seemed to end.

You switched breasts, releasing her fat teat with a resounding pop before latching onto the next. You slid your arm between her legs to get a decent balance, and that was when you noticed how wet Anna had gotten.

She rubbed herself against your arm, letting out soft moans. Not only did she need to be milked, but this woman was fucking horny! It only made your cock feel harder, and much more difficult to ignore.

Her body wanted more babies to feed, and by God, you were going to keep fucking her until she had at least twenty.

How the hell did your brother give that up?

---

🐮❤️

[sixhours]

Firsts - Colic

Rating: Everyone Series tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel and Ellie, Ellie Williams, Joel Miller x f!OFC, soft!Joel, no really super soft!Joel, Joel is a sap, mostly follows canon, fluff, fluffy baby stuff, no really this is sickeningly sweet, tooth-rotting, don't forget to brush your teeth Word count: 1.8k

Notes: I promise it's just fluff this time. Sickly sweet with a dash of humor, nary an angsty cloud in sight. Joel thinks of Sarah but it's not sad.

You can also read Firsts on AO3.

Six weeks.

Joel holds Anna on his right shoulder and walks her up and down the hall, patting and shushing and soothing, knowing it does absolutely no good. His socks are threadbare from all the pacing, and he could swear there’s a fresh trench in the wood floors where they take turns walking her back and forth, back and forth.

He’s never been more grateful to be almost deaf in one ear; at least the ringing dulls the constant wail.

No one sleeps. Even Ellie has taken to wearing earplugs to bed because she can hear the kid crying from her room in the garage.

The midwife–doubling as the town’s resident pediatrician–was as helpful as the goddamned pacifier that Anna refuses to take. The baby is gaining weight, eating well, outgrowing her newborn clothes. She’s alert and healthy and this awful phase is just that–a phase, and a perfectly normal part of her development.

So says the woman who doesn’t have to listen to her every night.

“Just don’t shake her,” the midwife says dismissively, handing the baby back to Joel after her third evaluation that week. “She’s fine.”

Joel thinks if he were going to shake anyone, it would definitely not be the baby.

During the day, Anna is a tiny joy, all gummy smiles and coos. Little fingers scratch at his beard and pull his hair and he nuzzles her round little belly with his big nose and his heart is so full it hurts.

But five o’clock rolls around and their sweet little angel morphs into an angry demon who sleeps in half-hour fits between feeding and screaming. She won’t take a bottle or the breast, she’s dry, she’s not gassy, and short of being pinched by invisible ghosts–a theory he and Charlie debated at length during a particularly exhausting night when they were both half delirious with sleep deprivation–there’s nothing to do but wait it out.

And so it’s pacing, and swaying, and rocking, and shushing, and they’re all shuffling around like infected during the daytime.

“C’mon, kiddo,” he sighs, deciding to take Anna downstairs for a change of scenery. Not that she’s seeing much, little eyes all scrunched up as she concentrates all her energy on exercising her lungs.

Joel hums and murmurs as he makes a fresh circuit around the living room, the kitchen, the dining table, then back. On the fourth pass, he pauses to look out the window over the kitchen sink and sees the glow of Ellie’s light from the shed. He and Anna aren’t the only ones up at this hour.

After one more lap, he decides what the hell, the baby can scream just as well in the fresh air as she can in the house. He grabs the infant snowsuit that’s still a size too big off the coat rack and starts to bundle her up. It dwarfs her tiny, scrunched-up body, but at least it’s warm.

“I know, baby girl, I know,” he murmurs, working her little arms and legs into the torture device as she screams louder, only quieting a fraction when he picks her back up and stuffs her down the front of his jacket, turning it into an improvised sling.

What he wouldn’t give for his old pickup right now. When Sarah was fussy he could strap her into her car seat, turn the radio on low, and drive around the neighborhood until the rumbling of the engine knocked her out. Better than Benadryl, his mother used to say.

But life in the apocalypse is a mostly manual affair, and strapping the kid to the back of a horse isn’t an option. Neither is Benadryl. Not that he’s considered either.

Not often, anyway.

He steps onto the porch and the early February air is a brief shock. Anna settles for a few precious seconds. It doesn’t last, but it’s long enough for Joel to take a deep breath, nuzzling the baby’s forehead, grounding him in her sweet, milky scent.

“Little bug,” he murmurs into the fur of her snowsuit. “You ready to sleep, hmm? Got it all out of your system?”

Her response is a resounding wail.

“Alright, I hear ya,” he mutters, and begins a meandering walk down the porch steps, to the curb, to the end of the street, and back. Five more laps until he trods back up the porch steps with a still-crying baby in his arms, no closer to sleep than he was twenty minutes ago.

The porch swing is lightly covered in snow, so he dusts it off and plops down, immediately taking up the back-and-forth motion, relieved to be off his feet even as Anna continues her symphony of sadness. He tips his head back and closes his eyes and sings aloud. He’d prefer to have a guitar in his lap, but no one will be able to hear his gravely voice over the sound of Anna’s crying, anyway.

But I've wandered much further today than I should,

And I can't seem to find my way back to the wood,

Help me if you can, I’ve got to get back to the house at Pooh Corner by one,

You'd be surprised, there's so much to be done.

Count all the bees in the hive,

Chase all the clouds from the sky,

Back to the days of Christopher Robin and Pooh…

“That’s a weird fucking song.”

He pauses, cracks an eye to watch as Ellie plods up the porch steps, hands stuffed in the pockets of her sweatshirt, wincing at the racket.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “We wake you?”

“Nah, couldn’t sleep. Scootch.”

He does, moving over so she can join him on the swing. Ellie peers at the screaming bundle perched on Joel’s chest.

“She’s still at it, huh?”

“Yup,” he mutters. “She’ll wear herself out here pretty soon…I hope.”

“I forgot how loud they are,” she sighs, falling into the same rhythm on the swing as they rock together. “The babies at the orphanage used to keep me up at night.”

He tries to keep a neutral face. He imagines Ellie at Anna’s age, left to cry for hours with no one to pick her up and pace the floor, no one to answer. It tugs at something deep and raw inside him, something that makes him want to hold her too tight. She doesn’t talk about her life before they found each other, but he knows what it was like in the QZ; no birth control, too many kids and a lot of dead parents. The orphanages were packed.

“Want me to take her for a bit?” she offers.

“Sure, if you want,” he shrugs. “She’s windin’ down.”

Joel pulls the squalling baby out of his makeshift jacket carrier.

“Behave for your sister, bug,” he murmurs, placing a kiss on the baby’s angry, sweaty temple before handing her over, biting his tongue on a reminder to support her head and neck as he watches Ellie do just that.

Ellie props Anna up on one shoulder, patting her back and rubbing in circles the way Joel showed her. After a few minutes, Anna’s cries dwindle to soft whines and whimpering hiccups.

“Look who’s got the magic touch,” she says, smug.

Joel tips his head back and closes his eyes, smiling, soaking in the sudden and blissful quiet. “You caught her at the right time. She was gonna settle down any minute.”

“Yeah, right,” she snorts, pretending to talk to the baby. “She just didn’t want to be stuck with her stinky old man all night, huh? I’d cry too if I had to walk around strapped to this asshole.”

“Smartass. S’normal for ‘em to cry at this age,” Joel says, more to reassure himself than her. “Sarah went through it, too, I think. Don’t ‘member much about it, just that I didn’t sleep then, either.”

“What about Sarah’s mom?”

“She, uh…she had a hard time after the baby came. Happens like that sometimes. Didn’t really…bond, I guess.”

Her eyes widen. “So what, she just…left?”

“Yeah.”

Ellie whistles softly, shifting Anna’s weight in his arms. “That’s fucking rough, dude. I’d be pissed.”

Joel considers this carefully. “Yeah, I was…for a while. But it was prob’ly for the best. Her loss an’ all.”

“Nobody’s gonna leave you, kid,” Ellie says softly, tilting her head back to see Anna’s little face, almost hidden in the fur of her snowsuit. “We’re gonna be around for a long, long time…me, your dad, and Charlie.”

He watches them out of the corner of his eye, his daughters. Anna, still wide awake, making gentle cooing sounds against her sister’s shoulder, whose body he cradled in his arms as she took her first breath. Ellie, the scrappy, scrawny QZ kid who greeted him with the broad swing of a knife, who saved him in ways he is only just beginning to understand.

Christ, I’m a fuckin’ sap , he thinks, swallowing hard, blaming the sudden tightness in his throat on exhaustion.

“So…still think you’re never havin’ kids?” he asks.

“You that eager to be a grandpa, old man?” she counters.

He smirks. “Didn’t say that.”

“I dunno,” she frowns at the baby. “She’s not exactly selling it. No sleep, diapers…and there’s that whole childbirth thing. Yuck.”

Anna gives an indignant squawk.

“Yeah, I know, she’s not bein’ very nice to you, huh?” Joel says in mock sympathy. “Pickin’ on a helpless li’l baby.”

“Just telling it like it is.”

Ellie looks over at him after a few minutes. “You know I like girls, right?”

“...do I know that?”

She rolls her eyes. “Dude, c’mon .”

“I’m just sayin’...we’ve never really, uh, talked about that…stuff.”

“Well…I like girls, Joel.”

“An’ I am one-hundred percent fine with that,” he says easily. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have a family if you want.”

“Wow, you really don’t know how babies are made,” she says dryly. “And here I thought you were just ‘really fuckin’ drunk.’”

He arches an eyebrow. “We were, but that’s–wait, how did you–”

“Charlie told me.”

“Of course she did,” he mutters. “So uh, sure, that’s, uh…one way. But family doesn’t have to mean blood.”

He nudges her boot with his, gives her a meaningful look.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she softens. “But don’t think I’m gonna start calling you ‘Dad’ or something, asshole.”

“Call me whatever you want, kid…just don’t call me late for dinner,” Joel yawns.

“Ugh, that’s such a dad thing to say,” she groans, but she leans in, snuggling closer in a rare moment of affection. He puts his arm over the back of the swing and Ellie rests her head on his shoulder.

“Think she’s almost out,” he murmurs after a while, leaning back to peer into the hood of the snowsuit where Anna has gone quiet, blinking drowsily at him. “We can go in.”

“M’kay,” Ellie whispers, but she makes no move to get up, and he’s in no rush to interrupt this tenuous peace.

The porch swing creaks its familiar rhythm into the night. Joel places a kiss on Ellie’s temple, and Anna finally sleeps.

[polksaladbutler]

req! maybe drunk reader and austin takes care of her?

take me home…

pairings : austin butler x drunk!fem reader

warnings: mentions of food, alcohol, short srry

** flyn: stands for first letter of your name :)

after a night out with your friends and an earache car ride back home, you staggered your way into the house as if you had lost a limb. austin took your coat and your heels which you had kicked off a few seconds before. “my legs feel like jello.” you giggled, looking down at your legs. “hey, what flavor of jello do you think my legs are?” austin laughed at your silly question.

“they all taste the same.” he said, guiding you to the living room, and helping you to the couch. “they do not! austin, we need… a jello-tasting event. let’s go get some.” you sat up but austin pulled your arm back down. “nah uh… tomorrow we can, for now, i want you to lay here.” austin leaned over the couch and kissed you on the forehead. “where are you going?” you groaned as you threw your hand over your eyes.

“getting my baby some fruit.” he announced from the kitchen. “can you use my favorite bowl?” you begged, your plead being muffled by the pillow you buried your face in. “of course baby.” your favorite bowl being the one you made with austin. it had “flyn + a” in the middle and hearts all around the outer edges. it was considered your favorite bowl because you and austin worked on it together, it meant something to you.

he walked over to the fridge and brung out some cases of different fruits, berries, grapes, and apple slices. he washed off the grapes and berries and placed a variety in the bowl. he walked over to you, you were hanging on by a thread, trying not to fall asleep. “sit up… you got it.” your body slowly moved up as austin pulled you up by your arm. “you sound sexy when you say that.” you giggled as austin placed the bowl in your lap.

“do i?” he laughed along with you. “mhm…” you smiled, sticking a few too many fruits in your mouth. “hey hey, don’t put that many in there.” he said, holding his hand under your mouth. “is good though.” you spoke with your mouth full. “stop talking and chew it.” he shook his head and removed his hand.

while you chewed up the fruit, austin attempted to reach for a blueberry. you speedily smacked austin’s hand. “i can’t have any?” he pouted. “i’ll feed them to you.” you fished for a strawberry and fed it to him. “thank you, baby.”

after you finished, austin took the bowl back to the kitchen and thoroughly washed it. he put it on the rack next to the sink, letting it air dry. you laid back down on the couch. “we gotta remove that pretty makeup.” austin walked back over to you.

“why i gotta do so much?” you elongated the last word. “it’s bad for your skin.” he only knows that because you refuse to go to sleep with any makeup. “i’ll be back.”

austin ran upstairs and grabbed your makeup wipes and your moisturizers. he came back downstairs and saw that you were practically knocked out. your mouth was open, eyes closed but you could see the whites of your eyes slightly. the last thing he wanted to do was to wake you up.

he crept over to the couch and moved your head onto his lap. he pulled your eyelashes off, forgetting that they are glued to your eyelid. “ow!” you squeezed your eyes. “i’m sorry baby.” he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “relax your eyes so i can get this makeup off..” he spoke softly, you relaxed your eyes and slowly fell back into your unconscious state.

he began wiping your makeup off, and it took him long enough. after a stressful seven minutes, he placed some moisturizer on his hands and lathered his hands with it. he rubbed it on your face and made sure your face was completely moisturized.

“thank you austin…” you sleepily smiled. “you’re welcome my princess.”

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

What Happens In Texas Stays In Texas: intrusive obsession (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC)

Summary: During their first vacation after Maisie is born, Ronnie forgets the breast pump. Good thing her husband has an oral fixation and a raging curiosity.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC (Ronnie Bradshaw)

Word Count: 1410

Warnings: EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT 18+ONLY MINORS DNI (breastfeeding stuff, lactation kink, jake seresin's oral fixation, vaginal fingering, dry humping, creaming pants, this is just straight filth)

regular au masterlist

A/N: likes are great but comments/reblogs are even better!

Jake came out of the shower to see Ronnie sitting at the edge of the bed, top half completely bare and t-shirt tossed into the corner by their suitcase. She gripped the comforter tight, shoulders heaving as she stared at the wall.

“You okay, darlin’?” he asked as he ran the towel over his hair again. 

“No,” she whimpered, voice shaken with tears.

Jake quickly yanked on a pair of briefs before rounding the bed to see what was wrong. There were tears streaming down her face, brow pinched in pain as she continuously glanced down at her chest.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked quietly as he got down on his knees before her.

Ronnie sucked in a deep, shuddering breath before she spoke, “Maisie didn’t finish her boob before she fell asleep.”

His face softened in understanding, his hands racking up and down her thighs in a soothing motion. And now that he was really looking at her, he could see it too. Her breasts were swollen, painfully so — full of milk undrunk, hard and aching. Ronnie whined again as more tears slipped down her cheeks. Their daughter was a good sleeper, wouldn’t need another feed until morning. So she was left full and ready to feed with nowhere to put it.

“Alright, where’d you put the pump?”

“I-I forgot to pack it.”

“Ronnie,” he sighed, head dropping down to her lap.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she cried, leaning back on the heels of her hands. “I am regretting it so much right now — this fucking hurts.”

Jake had been trying to ignore the intrusive thought since the first time he watched Ronnie breastfeed Maisie. When it first popped into his head he found it depraved, maybe even a little sick. She was producing milk to feed their daughter, for crying out loud. It was a miracle, a beautiful thing of nature that astounded him and put him in awe of his wife and all that she was capable of. But once the thoughts started it was hard to make them stop. He thought about it constantly. What it must taste like. How it must feel. His cock twitched to life even as he sat on his knees before his miserable, crying wife. He told himself he was just trying to help her. 

“I mean…” He started, coughed to try and hide the arousal in his tone, then tried again. “I mean, I could…?”

She caught his meaning immediately and threw her head back with a groan. “God, please Jake, anything to make this stop.”

“Okay,” he chuckled lightly, even as he readjusted his briefs around his already half-hard member. 

Ronnie pulled herself back up to sit up straight as Jake’s hands found purchase on her hips, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed so he could fit himself between her spread thighs. Skirt bunched up around her hips to provide better access. A whimper bubbled in her throat the closer his face got to her breasts, large nipples red and irritated already beginning to leak. On instinct, he licked the drop away before it could make a mess. The noise she made forced his hips to stutter against the mattress and boxspring.

“Jake, please,” she whispered breathlessly, hands combing into his hair to urge him closer to her swollen tit.

He couldn’t hesitate anymore. Not when she was offering so freely, not when she was in so much pain, not when he had been dreaming about this for months. Not when it felt like his lips practically itched to be around her. He didn’t even care if he seemed eager — he latched onto her and sucked deeply. Ronnie’s back arched, her fingers death gripping his hair. Milk burst onto his tongue and he groaned around her nipple. The taste was sweet and everything he ever wanted. 

Then she pushed at his face and he stopped immediately. Both of their chests heaved. Jake wiped at the corner of his mouth. Watching disdainfully as her milk continued to dribble down the slope of her breast. For a moment, he feared it was all too much. That he had taken it too far. 

“Gentle, please,” Ronnie whispered, hands curving back into his hair. “M’really sensitive. Your daughter is intense when it comes to her boobs.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled. “I’ll be gentle. Unlike some people.” 

He threw a look over his shoulder at the other room where Maisie was sound asleep. Ronnie laughed despite the pain that she was still experiencing.

Putting his mouth on her again, he sucked gently as he squeezed the base of her breast — remembering from when he would sit next to her as she pumped. Ronnie sighed in sweet relief, her head falling back at the lessened pressure. But as she experienced relief, Jake was experiencing more and more pressure. His cock was rock hard, jumping at the taste of her milk and the sweet little sighs she released. God, he just couldn’t help it. He needed his own relief, it was becoming unbearable, impossible to ignore — no matter how much he wanted to just focus on helping his wife. But once he started rutting against the side of the mattress he really couldn’t stop.

“Oh,” Ronnie gasped. 

She could feel it — of course she could. He was practically humping her leg. Slow, calculated thrusts in time with the way he sucked at her tit. She looked down at him, really looked down at him for the first time, and the way he looked back up at her made something like a fire lick down her spine straight to her core. His pupils were blown wide, consuming any hint of green. His cheeks were flushed a light shade of red that any other time she would have found adorable. His tongue swirled around her nipple as he sucked and her back arched, pushing her chest further into him as she made another one of those pretty little sounds he knew so well. 

He pulled his lips off of her with a gasp, chest heaving. “Shit, fuck, please tell me you’re as into this as I am?”

“God, surprisingly,” she said. 

Jake was quick to run his hand up the length of her thigh, her gasp small and yearning as he easily reached the apex. Her panties were soaked through. He moaned, hips adjusting uncaringly to rut against the slightly more forgiving flesh of her calf, as he moved the ruined fabric aside and easily slipped two fingers inside. 

“Jesus, you’re wet.”

“S-Surprisingly,” she repeated, stuttering the word out around the delicious curl of his fingers. 

“That feel good, darlin’?” he asked, pressing his thumb into her clit. 

“Fuck,” she hissed, hips grinding against his hand as her fingers fisted the comforter beneath her. “Jake, the other one — please.”

He looked to her other, ignored, leaking breast. Still so swollen and hard. Watched as the milk rolled down her body to get soaked up by the fabric of her skirt. He licked his lips before latching on, forgetting to be careful as he sucked deeply. Ronnie cried out at the sensation, instantly slapping a hand over her mouth to keep any other noises at bay. She was not about to let this get interrupted by a crying, rudely awoken baby. Jake, ever the expert at multitasking, kept up the pace of his fingers in her core — keeping it in time with the swirl of his tongue and draw of his lips on her tit.

He swirled his thumb on her clit and she whimpered soft and broken, her fingers clawing onto the back of his head to keep him right where she wanted him. “Don’t stop, please, don’t. Feels so good.”

Jake groaned around her nipple, pumping his fingers faster in time with the piston of his hips against her leg. Then, suddenly, she crashed into it. Her cunt clamping down on his fingers hard, sucking him back in. With her head thrown back and a breathless moan spilling endlessly from her lips. Jake detatched from her breast as his hips stuttered to a stop, breathless and flushed and more than anything surprised by what just happened. 

“Holy shit,” he gasped, pressing his face into her belly. “I just creamed my pants like a fucking teenager.” 

“I don’t think a teenager would ever do what we just did, babe,” Ronnie laughed back, smoothing down the wild strands of his hair that she herself had messed.

top gun taglist: @oneirataxia-girl @arrthurpendragon @pasta88love @theforevermorereject @sqrlgrl22 @townley-29 @alittlelostalittlefound @fenderenderender @chaoticassidy @capswife @marrianena @luckyladycreator2 @fulla02 @fangirlofallthings22 @dempy @imagineyneyjr @blue-aconite @commxnderwolffe @darkestbeforethedawn16 @sopheeg @mizzy-pop @loveforaugust @hope-love-equality2 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @onlyheretowastetime @supernaturaldawning @frenchtoastix @oneelleandaneye @agentminnesota187 @smoothdogsgirl @indynerdgirl @newlibrary

[the-fiction-witch]

I Need Help

Media - The Maze Runner Series AU Character - Newt Couple - Newt X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Sweet Word Count - 3252

As I moved restlessly around the house, I meticulously checked and prepared everything. The dining table is spotless and uncluttered, while the fridge is meticulously stocked with carefully prepared meals, each one labelled with its date and cooking instructions. The milk has been properly organized by expiration date and labelled accordingly. Meanwhile, the bottle warmer is already in action, sterilizing the second batch of bottles, with the first batch neatly stored in the cupboard. Additionally, all the pacifiers have been thoroughly cleaned and sterilized. In the pantry, an array of cookies, snacks, and tea is neatly arranged, and the diaper cupboard is fully stocked and organized. Lastly, the teethers are already chilling in the freezer, ready for use.

I. Am. Prepared.

Bing

What the bloody hell was that! I jumped out of my skin leaping halfway across the kitchen, Ohh... just the bottle sanitiser machine. It's finished.

No need to give me a heart attack bottle machine!

I approached the sink, eager to begin the meticulous process of cleaning the baby bottles. First, I lathered my hands thoroughly with gentle, antibacterial soap, ensuring to scrubbed every nook and cranny. After drying my hands with a fresh, sealed dry wipe, I carefully donned a new pair of latex gloves. With deliberate movements, I retrieved the freshly cleaned bottles from the machine and placed them on their designated shelf, ensuring to seal the shelf with hygiene tape. Next, I carefully took the hand-washed and mini dishwasher-treated bottles from the rack, adding them one by one to the sanitizing machine. As I set the machine in motion, I discarded my gloves and once again washed my hands, ensuring every step along the way maintained impeccable hygiene standards.

"Hey Newtie Booty," Y/n giggled as she came down the stairs, in her comfy clothes ready for her long flight, her Y/H/C hair pulled up into a braid,

"Ah! Love!" I jumped, "Don't! I'm full of enough anxiety right now,"

"I can tell," she giggled,

"You can?"

"Newt, you're hyperventilating and you're chewing on your hoodie strings."

"Maybe I am," I sighed forcing it out my mouth, "I'm sorry love I'm just... nervous is all.... this is the first time I've been alone with all four of them. Ever. Since they have been alive." I explained, "I'm freaking out!"

"Newt. You'll be fine babies are more resilient them you give them credit for," She chuckled, "Remember when you couldn't burp Simon for a week becuase you weren't burping him hard enough,"

"I remember," I sighed, "But I felt bad... I didn't want to hit his little back too hard,"

"You are so sweet," she cooed kissing my cheek, "You'll be fine it's just a week."

"Just a week," I nodded already feeling overwhelmed,

"Hey, remember what we talked about? Breaking down your jobs into steps?" She suggested,

I took a deep breath and nodded, "Yeah... just a week. But a week is a whole seven days."

"Hey, hey, break it down." she suggested, "It's seven days. and you're on day one so it's really only six days, five and a half if you could be coming home on Friday,"

"Yeah... I guess that's true," I nodded,

"And really over those five and a half days you only need to break it down into eight feedings a day which is only really four in the morning and four in the afternoon, plus the twelve hours a day they are sleeping so really it either sleep or eat at any one time which if you get them all onto the same sleep and eat schedule it shouldn't be to... Hard." She explained but then she noticed my face, "This isn't helping? is it?"

"It is not love," I admit,

"Sorry Newt,"

"It's fine. It's okay." I gasped,

"You'll be fine," she smiled giving my lips a soft little kiss, "I have complete faith in you Newt,"

"You do?"

"Of course I do," She smiled, "Maybe this is the moment all those paternal instincts the books talk about will kick in, and you'll finally become the amazing super daddy they know you can be,"

I blushed, "I hope so, I love them so much... I just... worry about everything for them."

"I know you do, but do try and have some fun while I'm gone okay?"

"Okay," I nodded, "I'll try, I hope everything is okay."

"I'm sure it's fine, I'd say us all go but seems like more stress, I'll bring you a magnet," she smiled kissing my cheek before she headed to the door,

"Hey," I stop her, "I love you,"

"I love you too," She smiled and we shared a soft sweet kiss, "Have fun,"

"You too," I smiled,

As she prepared to leave, we exchanged one final kiss, savouring the moment before parting ways. She threw her bag into the car and then glanced back at me, blowing a farewell kiss as she reversed out of our driveway. I stood there, watching as her car made its way down the road, turning the corner until it vanished from sight.

And it sunk in... I really am... alone...

And as soon as I had a moment to breathe the crying began.

I rushed upstairs making sure to lock the door and bolting into the nursery where I saw the four sweet little cribs, each I passed to find who was crying.

Robin was fine,

Wren was fine,

Jay was fine,

And so the crying was coming from little Sparrow, so I picked her up in my arms and gave her a sweet kiss or two to soothe her cries, I cooed petting her soft little blonde and Y/H/C hair little sparrow our only girl somehow got a mix of Y/n and I's hair and she had one Y/E/C eye and one brown eye she's my special little sparrow. Robin was a redhead of course part of why we named him it even before we knew about all four of them, and both Wren and Jay both had my dusty blonde. As soon as Sparrow was back to sleep I set her down in her crib again and did my best to speak away but before I could my phone went off for feeding time which woke all of them.

"Oh Bloody hell..." I groaned,

I sat on the rocking chair in the nursery my eyes half-lidded, my breaths slow, the rocking almost sending me to sleep at this rate, Wren against my chest as he finished up his bottle. I was beyond exhausted, but I got them all down for their meal and when I burp Wren and set him to bed they shall all be about the same for sleep with a few minutes of gradual wake-up for the night feed so all four don't wake up at once, which I should be able to manage. I hope. If I can keep them on this routine for the next few days. This is hard normally for me and Y/n to balance all four babies but on my own... I just don't have enough arms with which to cradle babies. Once he finished his bottle I wiped his messy little chin and burped him luckily he burped fairly fast so I kissed him and set him down in his crib.

"Nightie night little ones, sleep tight, don't let those bed bugs bite ya." I cooed giving them each a goodnight kiss before I double-checked the baby monitor, as well as left the nursery door open as I went across the hall and fell onto the bed passing out.

I woke to the sounds that chilled my very core, all four babies crying relentlessly in pain, and bird song. No. No! I couldn't have slept through my alarms!

I grabbed my phone and to my horror, I hadn't plugged it in last night... and it had died!

"Oh no!" I gulped boolting out of bed and into the nursery trying to soothe my poor starving babies! "I'm so so so sorry my little ones, Daddy is so sorry, dadyd didn't mean to miss your feeding, I'm so sorry my loves," I cooed trying not to cry, I felt like such a bad father! They were crying begging for milk their poor little baby tummies must have been so empty!

I quickly gathered them up in their carrier taking them downstairs so I could feed all four in the kitchen as soon as the bottles were warm, but "Oh no! Oh No!" I gasped as in my sleepy haze last night I had forgotten to close the fridge door! and everything inside was bad, surely it couldn't have just- No... no no no the cooker clock is wrong... we, We had a power outage! No! We had a power outage with the fridge doors open! All the milk for the babies was unusable, all the meals for me were soaked and ruined. "I'm so so sorry my little ones, daddy fucked up, daddy made a big mistake! But it's okay. we have emergency formula milk which should be okay just for this week, and I'll do a delivery and get myself some food in for a few days it's okay..."I explained to them as they cry, "We just need your..." I gasped as I turned to the pantry, "Oh no... no... no no no no!" I fell to my knees as the water that had leaked from the defrosting freezer and fridge had leaked all the way across the kitchen to the pantry, every single diaper I had was soaked in water and unusual, and water had gotten in the formula cartons flooding the whole floor with milk. "Oh no... daddy fucked up, daddy really really fucked up!" I gasped trying not to cry as I tried to think of what on earth I could do!

I need to go get food, and milk and formula, and diapers, and I need to take four babies, and they are starving, and crying, and I'm crying cause I feel like a terrible father.

"I... I need help..." I cried,

I called up the group chat for help and explained my situation, I didn't know what else to do or whom else to call. Y/n is a thousand miles away she can't help me.

I tried to do what little I could but soon they arrived, Like three golden angels,

Thomas, Minho and Gally.

"Right. We are here. And we are here to assist!" Minho said, "Where are babies in need of love and affection!"

"Bring me a baby to snuggle!" Thomas begged,

"Baby Wren for you," I told thomas as I handed him over, "Baby Robin for you," I told Minho as I handed him over, keeping Jay and Sparrow in my arms.

"Awww such the cutest little puddling pop" Thomas cooed peppering Wren with all the love and attention possible,"

"I am made of muscles, muscles for baby cuddles!" Minho explained,

"Not so loud Min, Babies. small ears."

"Right," He nodded, "Muscels for baby cuddles," he whispered just as hyped,

"Okay. We have enough formula and diapers to get you through the next forty-eight hours, after that two will do a shopping run while the others play with the babies at the park. Yes, I know you split your shops into two stores becuase of items that's why we go one pair into one while the other pair minds the baby's second store we switch. We also brought you two takeaway pizzas and enough fries to kill a small elephant to keep you going till we can get some groceries in you. I also came prepared with additional towels for the fridge and some new baby bottles that may do in a pinch while others are sanitizing." Gally explained,

"Gally... I could kiss you," I told him,

"You are a married man with four children that makes me uncomfortable,"

"I am sure in this situation Natgalie will understand, but know I would kiss you in spirit."

"Gross. Mouths or butts what is the more pressing issue,"

"Mouths I missed a feeding so they have been crying out and I just feel like the worst father on earth," I cried looking as poor little Jay cried in my arms,

"You are not a bad father Newt. everyone gets overwhelmed. Happens to us all." Minho explained as he took Wren from thomas,

Thomas went to make the bottles up, "Yeah come on man every dad gets one fuck up,"

"None of you are fathers."

"No... but I like to feel I have a very fatherly vibe," Minho said,

"which do you want to give me," Gally asked,

"I'm okay," I nodded,

"Newt. There are four babies. and four of us. we need to share the load." Thomas said as he brought bottles for all four babies,

"Okay, take Jay. He's mad at me anyway," I sighed handing Jay over to Gally and sitting in my chair to feed little sparrow who drank up her bottle so fast, "uhh yeah they missed at least one feeding so... we may need a refill."

"Another round of baby cocktails Thomas!" Minho ordered,

"Coming right up four baby formula cocktails," Thomas said, "can I reuse bottles or-"

"Whatever you need to Tommy," I answered,

I collapsed on the chair as soon as all four babies were in bed, sitting with the guys.

"Have you even slept?" Gally asked,

"No... too many schedules too-" I began,

"Go," Minho demanded,

"I'm fine I'll be-"

"Go Newt," Thomas demanded,

"Don't make us feed, burp, change and read you to bed Newt... cause we will do it," Minho warned,

"Okay, Okay, I'm going," I sighed,

"Not gonna lie that does sound kinda nice," Thomas nodded, but got glares, "Kidding."

"Wake me when the kids-"

"No. Sleep. we will deal with them get some goddamn rest." Gally demanded,

"...fine, just yell me if there-"

"rest!" They all yelled,

"I'm going I swear," I said getting up and heading up to my room but I couldn't check in on them I found Robin squirming so I gave him a quick cuddle in the rocking chair till he was happy, but by then Sparrow was squirming so I gave her a cuddle, but by then Wren was squirming and wanted cuddles, and of course the moment I was finished with him Jay wanted cuddles but I settled him ready for this dance to begin again until just as I set jay down in his crib I was grabbed by my hoodie and pulled from the nursery, rolled along the floor into a blanket like a sushi roll and thrown on my bed, "Guys!"

"Rest," Thomas told me,

"Or else," Minho warned before they shut my door,

"What if I have to pee?!"

"hop to the bathroom!" Gally yelled,

"Can I have my phone?"

"Sleep!" They all yelled,

I smiled as I sat with little Jay on my leg giving him some bounces as we all sat at the table to do some crafting, something to take up time between naps and food, I had Jay, Minho had Sparrow, Gally had Robin and Thomas had Wren all of us sat around the table with some baby safe paint and paper.

"Hum..." Thomas pondered,

"Enlighten us," Gally sighed,

"...If I give Sparrow the pink paint to do her painting... am I being sexist 'cause she's a girl." he said, "Or if I give the boys pink and I don't give Sparrow pink is that also sexist..." he said, "Or If I-"

"Thomas. it's baby paints. don't think too hard about it," Minho sighed,

"Why not just do their favourite colours?" Gally sighed,

"Uhhh they are like three months old... they don't have colour preferences," I told them,

"Ohh... really?" thomas asked,

"Not really, they don't even really have toy preferences yet," I answered,

"They are like tiny not yet people" Minho chuckled,

"They kinda are," I laughed giving Jay a little kiss on the head, "Bu there my tiny not yet people,"

"Adorable," Gally sighed, "Just hand out some paint already thomas,"

I sat holding Jay as I finished up changing him luckily with four pairs of hands things were going fairly smoothly or as smoothly as four men in a house with four babies can go.

"Ohh I think Jay needs changing," Minho called,

"Uhh, I just changed him," I said,

"Well, he stinky,"

"You sure, cause I have Jay Min,"

"Oh... shit. Sorry Wren I thought you were your brother."

"Give Wren here I'll change him," I chuckled,

So Minho brought Wren over and I swapped him with Jay, "Nap?"

"Yes please,"

"The baby,"

"Both. Yeah, Jay needs nap time, Sparrow will be up in a second for her bottle." I explained as I began to change Wren,

"How did you get stuck on the baby changing station?"

"I don't know, I guess it's kinda fair you guys are all helping me, and it's kinda unfair I ask for your unpaid help and make you wipe my own kid's butts. Seems rude."

"Good point, I just like burping,"

"You are good at it,"

"I'm good at feeding!" Thomas called,

"You really are Tommy you get all the formula clumps,"

"The trick... is to shake it like a Polaroid picture," He said as he came in, "Gally is a great nap time supervision... like he should change careers something about how he lays them down they are just out like lights."

"Together we just about make one fully functioning father," I sighed as I tickled Wren's toes and gave him endless kisses,

"Newt. You are a good dad." Minho said,

"I... I don't feel like a good day most days," I answered,

"Everyone messes up."

"I make a lot of mistakes though,"

"Yes, but you have four kids. You got four kids on your first go, no one is prepared for that," Thomas explained, "You are doing a good job though Newt,"

"I don't know I just feel like I'm always messing up,"

"Newt." Gally came through too, "You know these kids better than anyone, you know how they lay, how they feed, how they squirm and burp, and when they get bigger and show more personality we both know you will know them better than they know themselves. You are going to be a great dad Newt, and you are one now."

"You guys think so?"

They all nodded,

"Thank's guys," I smiled,

I settled them all in for their nap giving each a kiss on the head finally feeling like I had the hang of this now the guys had left, giving me some confidence and some faith that I could do this. I checked the baby monitor as I heard the car pull up so I went down and quickly scooped her in my arms,

"Ummmmm I missed you!" she hugged me,

"I missed you too," I cooed, "I love you so so so much,"

"I love you too,"

"How was it?"

"Fine just a mad house, how was things here?"

"Uhhh... well..." I gulped, "Things went to chaos but I got a handle on stuff,"

"Really?"

"Yeah, some big stuff happened that I will go over but nothing I couldn't manage,"

"Aww that's sweet," she smiled, "With help,"

"Yeah... you uhh you know about that?"

"I was watching through the baby monitor feed on my phone,"

"Ah... so you-"

"I know, you had help,"

"They really were a big help but, I think I got a handle on it now. I think... I'm an okay dad, I'm getting there,

"That's perfect Newt," she smiled giving me a soft kiss,

"Ohh and babies made their mommy a little welcome home prezzie," I smiled grabbing the little painting from the fridge,

she took it and began to cry, "Aw, it's a little woodland of hands, our little baby hands,"

"Yeah, Sparrow did the sky, Robin did the leaves, Jay did the tree's and Wren did the ground and they all did a little sign at the bottom for you," I explained,

"It's so beautiful, Thank you," She cried joyfully, "You did such a good job Newt,"

"Thank you love," I smiled,

"You think you could handle two weeks for a girl's trip to Vegas?"

"Hell no," I told her,

"I'm only kidding," she laughs, "You deserve a week off soon."

"I'm happy right here, with my family" I cooed giving her a kiss,

"Alright, come on I wanna give them all kisses goodnight," she smiled heading upstairs. 

[stellagibs0ns]

Would you consider a follow up to your Bedelia single mom PPD fic where maybe it’s 6 weeks after the baby was born and the baby smiles at her for the first time and her heart melts and she deals with all those emotions but realizes her and her daughter are gonna be ok?

ohhhh absolutely <3

—

Drizzle dashes against the window of Bedelia’s London apartment, the sky overcast and grey. She’s as settled as she can be, her expensive, chic furniture clashing with the baby clothes on the drying rack and the changing table in the corner.

It’s been a slow, agonising six weeks. Midnight feeds and total disconnect from the baby she carried for almost nine months. She’d went into labour early and alone, but no amount of complaining would change that fact.

She didn’t neglect her daughter, not in the slightest. She woke with her every time she cried, and cradled her close, but most days it felt as though she was somebody else’s child completely. Until she’d watch her, and her little face would change and look shockingly like her father’s.

Her sleep has been rough. Her nipples chapped and sore, her body and hormones entirely out of whack. Those were all problems she’d have to handle at another point in time.

The only thing her daughter will sleep to is Bach. How very predictable, she thinks. Hannibal would be delighted, but she reminds herself that he is no longer in the picture and never will be again.

The quiet music drifts through the room that seems just too big for a mother and child, and Bedelia finds herself on the brink of sleep before her daughter begins to squirm and fuss in her arms.

She shifts, suddenly alert, and rubs her daughter’s back soothingly. “It’s alright,” she murmurs, rocking her gently. “No tears, baby. It’s alright.”

The baby blinks curiously up at her mother, her toes wiggling and her long eyelashes batting up at her. Her whines and whimpers settle, and Bedelia holds out her finger. The baby wraps her own tiny pink hand around it, and a gummy, rosy-cheeked smile appears on her face.

Bedelia’s heart stops for the briefest of moments, and she swallows the suffocating burst of emotion.

“Ohhh, look at you,” she whispers, a choked up laugh escaping her. Suddenly everything seems to sharpen, and click into place.

Her daughter continues to beam at her mother. Innocent. She knows nothing but the warmth and protection of her mother, and Bedelia exhales sharply.

This is her daughter, despite trials and tribulations and unfortunate circumstances. This is her baby girl, and if she doesn’t protect her, nobody will. Her heart aches in her chest, and she leans down to press her lips to her daughter’s soft, tiny head.

“Beautiful thing,” she whispers, tears spilling down over her cheeks unwillingly. “My darling girl.”

Her daughter refuses to let go of her mother’s finger, and it’s clear to Bedelia that it is, and likely always will be, the two of them against the rest of the world. And she’s learning to accept that, as hard as it may be. She will survive, as she always has, and she will, in some way, be a good mother.

That’s what is left for her, and her heart aches less with every passing day.

[stellar-imagines]

WINTER 2022 SPECIAL: ❝#27 with Shanks.❞

[ Fandom: One Piece ] [ Characters: Red Haired Shanks ]

「#27 ❝ Did you eat all of my holiday chocolate?❞ with Shanks.」

RED HAIRED SHANKS

The Red Hair Pirates had docked on an island to restock some supplies, relax, do a bit of maintenance on the ship. Everyone was starting to get restless after spending a good amount of time at the sea. And they all relished the opportunity to explore and be able to stretch their legs on dry land. The town had a lot of clothes suitable for winter and you were thrilled to be able to finally purchase some clothes. By the time you returned to where the Red Force was docked, the crew had already gathered around on deck and drinking while chatting loudly.

”Hey, [First Name]! Took you long enough! Wanna have a drink?” Shanks was the first one to notice your arrival.

”Maybe later. What about dinner?” you asked, scooting closer towards Shanks. He stands up to pull you by the waist, nuzzling his nose into your hair affectionately.

”I think Lucky Roux is preparing something in the kitchen.” someone replied.

”I’ll drop these off and help him.” you motioned to the bag that you were holding onto you.

”Come and drink with us, [First Name]. You don’t reaaaally have to go right?” Shanks pouted at you. In response, you gave him a sigh and a quick peck on his cheek before pulling away.

”I won’t be gone too long! Try not to miss me too much!” you winked playfully.

If you were to question someone what they liked about Christmas, it had to be about giving and receiving gifts. As pirates, they would mention how they loved the banquets and parties, often making a dumb excuse to celebrate and have a drink with everyone. Christmas was no different, it was a season when everyone will get together and party. So when the opportunity was presented to you, you were already in the kitchen with Lucky Roux, making something to feed the entire crew while they were drinking. You put the batch of Christmas-themed chocolate you made into the fridge to let it cool before helping with whatever Lucky Roux needed from you.

It wasn’t until the party was nearing the end that you skipped towards the kitchen, eager to let the crew taste the chocolate you prepared earlier. The moment you opened the fridge, you noticed the absence of the chocolate tray that you placed on the top rack. For a moment, you thought it was just misplaced but when it was nowhere to be seen inside the fridge, you began to frantically look around for your chocolates.

"What are you looking for, baby?"

"Oh! Perfect timing! Did you see the chocolate I made for the crew? I put it in the fridge earlier....." you mumbled absentmindedly, turning to face your lover who stood at the door of the kitchen. It was then you noticed the little smudges of chocolate on Shanks' lips and fingers. You narrowed your eyes at him and he visibly gulped at the sight of your glare. He backed away until he felt the cool wood against his back. You stood in front of him with an icy glare, studying his every move.

"Shanks....." you started in a low tone that sent shivers down his spine.

"Yes, honey?" Shanks did his best to smile at you.

"Did you eat all of my holiday chocolate?"

"I may or may not.....have eaten them because I got hungry." Shanks admitted, rubbing the back of his head. He could almost see the invisible bomb inside your head go off.

"It was going to be for tonight's party! Now I gotta make something else for dessert—What are you smiling at, Shanks?!” you pulled at his cheeks with an angry glare.

Shanks watched as you huffed angrily, turning away and moving away from him. He could hear you grumble and complain, slowly stomping against the floorboards of the ship. It was pretty cute in his eyes but he knows that you were mad. For a moment, he watches cautiously when you turn your back against him, heading into the store room that was just at the back of the kitchen. After a while, Shanks decided to follow you to apologize. You could hear his footsteps and abruptly turn around, making him stop in his tracks.

"Don't follow me, Shanks." you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

"C'mon, don't be mad. I'll help you make a new batch." he offered. 

Shanks knew that he can be childish sometimes and he could see the scowl reflected on your face. There are occasions when he would underestimate your feelings, incapable of understanding what is really going through your head. One part of him was telling him that you were being a little bit too dramatic but he knows that that was not the case. He tries to understand from your perspective. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he was not valuing your efforts and feelings. He hopes that you're not as mad as he thinks you are.

"Fine! But you're not getting any of the new ones because you ate all of the ones I made earlier!" you huffed angrily at him.

"I can help you taste test! The chocolate was really delicious!" Shanks grins widely, following you back into the kitchen.

"Hurry up and come help! Or you won't get any cuddles for the next 3 days!"

Total: 891 words Published: 23.12.2022

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ Thanks for requesting! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting! Hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

If you’re interested in requesting, click the link below, read through, and send us something! STELLAR WINTER EVENT

Requests are open! Matchups are closed! Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

[soldier-lodbrok]

It had been another sleepless kind of night. The clean laundry had piled up on one of the chairs, slowly being taken from as needed. Their ironing board was a lost battle of 'it'll get done when there's time'. Dishes were rotated from the drying rack and back onto it like it was their new home. It was a cozy mess, that told of a newborn throwing their schedules to the wind.

"I know I already had a sprout before this one, but I wasn't prepared for this." Ifalna commented with a smile playing at her lips. "I didn't have a house to keep up with for long. By the time I recovered from the birth, I really only had a week. I wasn't responsible for any of the chores, people brought me food on trays and cleaned my room." It should have been a sore spot. The kind of topic that pulled sadness from her, but Glenn had helped her to heal those wounds and now she could speak those facts a little easier. "In a way, we're both new to this whole balancing act. I think we're doing alright though." She gave him a small peck, and his longer beard a scratch with her fingertips for good measure as her smile grew.

Glenn had already thought they had a lot of laundry with just Aerith running wild, his own and Ifalna's training. But no. that paled in comparison to now, with just one newborn added in the mix. Seemed little Roran's only pastime beside sleeping and feeding was drooling or hickupping on everything he was dressed on. And that was just what came out of that end of the baby...

Nonetheless, Glenn wouldn't swap this time for anything else. No matter how little sleep they got, no matter how often he carried Aerith on his shoulders through Cosmo Canyon when he was actually ready to drop dead on any surface, no matter how often Roran's cries woke him up, when he actually did fall asleep... it was all amazing.

And he was lucky he was with Ifalna. They made a pretty good team on this all. Even though Glenn realized there were things that were utterly delicate with her right now. The last time she had cared for a baby so small was when her whole life had been shattered. The three-week-mark had been the hardest. Ifalna had practically refused to give Roran out of her hands, Aerith was barely allowed to sleep in her own room with Ifalna checking on her so often, and every noise at night had frightened her. Glenn had not known how to help her really, he had just tried his best. Assuring and comforting her and taking on everything around them. Sometime she could just hold her.

But now there slowly was a routine setting in.

Sitting on the floor, with the newborn on a blanket in front of him, Glenn changed what felt like the twentieth diaper today and it was only morning yet.

"Alright? We're doing amazing!", he declared proudly, while buttoning the beanbag-suit of their son back up again. Recently Roran seemed to have discovered he had legs and arms and could kick and throw them around, making it harder to get him dressed - but you couldn't even be mad at that bright smiling little face.

Lifting the newborn up and simply placing him in the wrap around his upper body, Glenn checked that all feet and little hands tugged in safely, before he grinned at Ifalna again.

Flicking the beard on his chin, he quickly stole a kiss back from her, wrapping his other arm around her and then twirling her away again as if this was one of their many dances.

"You will have to get used to it more... thought about shaving today, but today is sunday, that means our daughter calls the shots and you know what that means. Pancakes for breakfast and fries all day - and I haven't gotten around to cutting any potatoes yet."

@holyguardian

[shopthyseed]

Tips to Clean and Sterilize Thyseed Baby Bottles

As a parent you always wat to use clean and sterilized silicone bottle. Thyseed baby bottles are designed with baby’s health and safety in mind, though before use they ought to be cleaned and sterilized to eliminate the throngs of bacteria. When it comes to feeding our babies, as much as we would wish to provide them with clean feeding equipment and utensils particularly baby bottles, it can at times prove to be quite challenging hence in this blog post, we will be able to prodice some tips on how to clean and sterilize Thyseed baby bottles.

Gather Your Cleaning Supplies

Before you start cleaning, gather all the necessary supplies:

Bottle brush

Mild dish soap

Sterilizing equipment (boiling water, microwave sterilizer, or electric sterilizer)

Clean towel or drying rack

Having everything ready will make the process more efficient and ensure thorough cleaning.

Disassemble the Bottles

Begin by disassembling the Thyseed baby bottles completely.

Separate the baby bottle nipples and other detachable parts.

Wash each part under water to remove any milk residue.

Wash with Soapy Water

Take a container or fill the basin with warm water and add few drops of liquid soap

Use the bottle brush to clean the inside of the Thyseed baby bottle thoroughly.

Pay special attention to the soft nipples and other small parts, ensuring all milk residues are removed.

Rinse all parts under warm running water to remove any soap

Washing with warm soapy water helps break down any remaining milk fats and residues.

Sterilize the Bottles

Besides the general, frequent cleaning, it is also recommended to sterilize Thyseed baby bottles and soft nipples frequently, and if your baby is less than 3 months old, or born preterm, or if your baby has a weak immune system. You can use any method but sterilization is mandatory.

Regular Maintenance Tips

To maintain the cleanliness and longevity of your Thyseed baby bottles, follow these additional tips:

Bend the bottles once a day for infants less than three months, premature infants or for those infants whose immune systems are not very strong.

Sterilize the bottles every few days or as needed for older babies and during cold and flu season.

You should also examine the best baby bottles for breastfed babies frequently to ensure that they are not worn out and should be replaced if possible.

Conclusion

As you feed your baby using Thyseed baby bottles, it is important that you clean your baby bottles in a proper manner to avoid any harm coming to your baby. With the help of following these procedures; the bottles will remain safe from bacterial invasion, thus giving a safe feeding to the infant. Just as it is important to wash breastfeeding bottles, it is also very important to sterilize them and this brings confidence particularly when one is using bottles for breast milk. Learn more about Thyseed and get the best baby bottles atThyseed. Saving your baby bottles hassle-free has never been this easy.

[babyproductstips]

A Comprehensive Guide to Sterilizing and Washing Baby Bottles

For new parents, ensuring the cleanliness and safety of their baby's feeding bottles is a top priority. After all, tiny tummies deserve the utmost care. This comprehensive guide delves into the world of sterilizing and washing baby bottles, equipping you with the knowledge and confidence to keep your little one's feeding equipment squeaky clean.

Understanding Sterilization and Washing:

Sterilization: This process eliminates all germs and bacteria from the bottle components, ensuring the highest level of hygiene.

Washing: This removes visible dirt and milk residue from the bottles and their parts. Washing is essential before both sterilization and use.

Why is Sterilization Important?

Newborn Immune Systems: Babies have immature immune systems and are more susceptible to infections. Sterilization minimizes the risk of illness caused by bacteria.

Breastmilk and Formula: Both breastmilk and formula can harbor bacteria if not handled properly. Sterilization ensures safe consumption for your baby.

When to Sterilize:

During the First Year: Experts generally recommend sterilizing all baby feeding equipment, including bottles, nipples, rings, and caps, for the first year of your baby's life.

After Illness: If your baby is sick, sterilize all feeding equipment after each use to prevent the spread of germs.

When Switching from Breast to Bottle: Sterilize all bottles and components before using them for formula feeding for the first time.

Sterilization Methods:

There are several effective methods for sterilizing baby bottles:

Boiling: This is a simple and free method. Fill a large pot with clean water and bring it to a boil. Submerge all disassembled bottle parts for at least 5 minutes. Let them cool completely in the sterile water before handling.

Steam Sterilizer: Electric steam sterilizers are convenient and efficient. Follow the manufacturer's instructions for proper use and water level. This method typically takes 10-15 minutes.

Microwave Steam Bags: These disposable bags filled with water can be used in the microwave to steam sterilize bottle parts. Always follow the specific instructions on the product packaging.

Chemical Solutions: While less common, some brands offer sterilizing tablets or solutions. These require careful handling and precise dilution according to the manufacturer's instructions.

Washing Baby Bottles:

Wash before Every Use: Even if you sterilize, wash all bottle parts with hot, soapy water before each use to remove any milk residue or visible dirt.

Use a Bottle Brush: A dedicated bottle brush with bristles designed to reach all nooks and crannies is essential for thorough cleaning.

Clean Nipples and Valves: Turn nipples inside out and use a small brush or cotton swab to clean any milk buildup in the crevices. Pay close attention to the anti-colic valves, if present.

Rinse Thoroughly: Rinse all bottle parts and the brush with clean, hot water to remove any soap residue.

Drying Baby Bottles:

Air Dry: After washing and rinsing, allow all bottle parts to air dry completely on a clean dish rack or drying mat.

Avoid Dish Towels: Dish towels can harbor bacteria. Opt for air drying instead.

Additional Tips for Maintaining Hygiene:

Wash Your Hands: Always wash your hands thoroughly with soap and warm water before handling clean or sterilized bottles.

Replace Worn Bottles and Nipples: Over time, bottles and nipples can develop cracks or harbor bacteria. Replace them regularly for optimal hygiene.

Store Bottles Properly: Store clean and dry bottles in a covered container or cupboard to prevent dust and contamination.

Conclusion:

By following these simple guidelines, you can ensure your baby's feeding equipment is clean and safe. Remember, consistency is key. By incorporating these practices into your daily routine, you can provide your little one with a healthy and hygienic feeding experience, allowing them to focus on what matters most - enjoying their precious meals.

[kamreadsandrecs]

By Adrienne Brodeur

It was that date. The one where you invite the guy over to your apartment for a home-cooked meal to see if there’s real chemistry.

Tim and I had been set up about a month earlier. We went on one of those no-nonsense, low-stakes drinks dates designed to determine if there was enough interest to warrant another. There had been, and over the next few weeks we met at two bistros and a trattoria, getting to know each other over steak frites, pasta pomodoro, and other delicious but tame fare. At these meals I learned that Tim came from a close-knit Irish Catholic family and was one of six children (five of them boys). His descriptions of his childhood seemed plucked from a 1950s handbook—a stern but amicable father, a sweet homemaker mother, and orderly family-style dinners served promptly at 6 p.m. after his parents had enjoyed a single measured 1.5-ounce cocktail each and said grace.

“What on earth does one cook for a family of eight?” I wondered aloud. Tim smiled and told me with nostalgia that Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup featured prominently; Twinkies and Ring Dings were Friday night’s dessert; and that he was his mother’s “best eater.” He also mentioned that his father, a germophobe, preferred his meats well-done.

This did not bode well. 

My parents—divorced when I was five and each on their third marriage by the time I met Tim—drank with abandon, cooked adventurously, and preferred their meats bloody. “Food,” my mother always told me, “is poetry for the mouth.” In our home the kitchen was where the action took place. By day Mom, a Le Cordon Bleu-educated chef, tested recipes for her Boston Globe column and her cookbooks, and in the evenings my brother, stepfather, and I gathered along the counter to watch the show: Mom, a dry manhattan in one hand and some cooking implement in the other, pounding, mincing, whisking, and flipping, confident that the way to all hearts was through the stomach. Under our adoring gaze she’d spatchcock fowl, coax soufflés to rise, and tuck sizzling snails into shells under clouds of garlicky butter, delivering bites into our open mouths like she was feeding baby birds in a nest.

But back to Tim and this nerve-racking dinner date. I wasn’t anxious about performing in the kitchen—I was my mother’s daughter after all. What had me worried was what kind of eater he was. What if I was falling in love with the possessor of a tepid palate and resigning myself to a lifetime of bland meals? Food was my family’s love language. It was how we communicated. I didn’t want to tamp down my voice…. I needed to be heard! I tried to focus on the pro side of the ledger: Tim was handsome, smart, funny, and kind. Did it really matter if he wasn’t Anthony Bourdain?

I looked at my cookbook collection, perched on a shelf in my tiny Manhattan kitchen and reached for a copy of my mother’s Do-Ahead Dining, the jacket of which featured a slab of gorgeously rare roast beef. The table of contents was organized by season and number served; headings included “Leisurely Summer Luncheon for Six” and “Christmas Brunch for Sixteen.” My finger slid down the list of recipes designed for two: sautéed shad roe, intimate duckling dinner, veal kidneys in wine sauce. No, no, and no. I began bargaining with myself: I could handle it if Tim wasn’t a culinary daredevil—an aversion to innards would not be a dealbreaker—but a baseline appreciation of excellent food was nonnegotiable. Then my eyes landed on a long-forgotten favorite, “Greek-Style Shrimp for Two.” It was the perfect dish, chock-full of robust and delectable ingredients like fresh tomatoes, tangy feta, piquant basil, and sweet shrimp—sophisticated yet not too challenging.

Two evenings later Tim sat on an antique stool in my galley kitchen, drinking a glass of white wine while I channeled my mother bantering and showing off my knife skills, pressing the tip-end down while rapid-fire rocking the blade across a garnish of parsley. To my delight, when I opened the oven door, releasing a puff of intoxicating aromas, Tim closed his eyes and inhaled audibly, giving the bouquet the attention a miracle deserved.

Over his shoulder in the next room, a beautifully set table awaited us, candles flickering. But I couldn’t wait. I spooned out a pink shrimp topped with melted feta and sprinkled it with freshly chopped parsley. Tim’s eyes were still shut. “Open up,” I said, blowing on the morsel. Our first, albeit tiny, moment of vulnerability and trust.

Tim did as I asked, smiling in anticipation, and I popped the bite into his mouth. He moaned with pleasure, a sound so appreciative that it conveyed all I needed to know in terms of our culinary compatibility. Without opening his eyes, he reached for my hand, turned it over and kissed the inside of my wrist. “This is perfection.” And it was.

[kammartinez]

By Adrienne Brodeur

It was that date. The one where you invite the guy over to your apartment for a home-cooked meal to see if there’s real chemistry.

Tim and I had been set up about a month earlier. We went on one of those no-nonsense, low-stakes drinks dates designed to determine if there was enough interest to warrant another. There had been, and over the next few weeks we met at two bistros and a trattoria, getting to know each other over steak frites, pasta pomodoro, and other delicious but tame fare. At these meals I learned that Tim came from a close-knit Irish Catholic family and was one of six children (five of them boys). His descriptions of his childhood seemed plucked from a 1950s handbook—a stern but amicable father, a sweet homemaker mother, and orderly family-style dinners served promptly at 6 p.m. after his parents had enjoyed a single measured 1.5-ounce cocktail each and said grace.

“What on earth does one cook for a family of eight?” I wondered aloud. Tim smiled and told me with nostalgia that Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup featured prominently; Twinkies and Ring Dings were Friday night’s dessert; and that he was his mother’s “best eater.” He also mentioned that his father, a germophobe, preferred his meats well-done.

This did not bode well. 

My parents—divorced when I was five and each on their third marriage by the time I met Tim—drank with abandon, cooked adventurously, and preferred their meats bloody. “Food,” my mother always told me, “is poetry for the mouth.” In our home the kitchen was where the action took place. By day Mom, a Le Cordon Bleu-educated chef, tested recipes for her Boston Globe column and her cookbooks, and in the evenings my brother, stepfather, and I gathered along the counter to watch the show: Mom, a dry manhattan in one hand and some cooking implement in the other, pounding, mincing, whisking, and flipping, confident that the way to all hearts was through the stomach. Under our adoring gaze she’d spatchcock fowl, coax soufflés to rise, and tuck sizzling snails into shells under clouds of garlicky butter, delivering bites into our open mouths like she was feeding baby birds in a nest.

But back to Tim and this nerve-racking dinner date. I wasn’t anxious about performing in the kitchen—I was my mother’s daughter after all. What had me worried was what kind of eater he was. What if I was falling in love with the possessor of a tepid palate and resigning myself to a lifetime of bland meals? Food was my family’s love language. It was how we communicated. I didn’t want to tamp down my voice…. I needed to be heard! I tried to focus on the pro side of the ledger: Tim was handsome, smart, funny, and kind. Did it really matter if he wasn’t Anthony Bourdain?

I looked at my cookbook collection, perched on a shelf in my tiny Manhattan kitchen and reached for a copy of my mother’s Do-Ahead Dining, the jacket of which featured a slab of gorgeously rare roast beef. The table of contents was organized by season and number served; headings included “Leisurely Summer Luncheon for Six” and “Christmas Brunch for Sixteen.” My finger slid down the list of recipes designed for two: sautéed shad roe, intimate duckling dinner, veal kidneys in wine sauce. No, no, and no. I began bargaining with myself: I could handle it if Tim wasn’t a culinary daredevil—an aversion to innards would not be a dealbreaker—but a baseline appreciation of excellent food was nonnegotiable. Then my eyes landed on a long-forgotten favorite, “Greek-Style Shrimp for Two.” It was the perfect dish, chock-full of robust and delectable ingredients like fresh tomatoes, tangy feta, piquant basil, and sweet shrimp—sophisticated yet not too challenging.

Two evenings later Tim sat on an antique stool in my galley kitchen, drinking a glass of white wine while I channeled my mother bantering and showing off my knife skills, pressing the tip-end down while rapid-fire rocking the blade across a garnish of parsley. To my delight, when I opened the oven door, releasing a puff of intoxicating aromas, Tim closed his eyes and inhaled audibly, giving the bouquet the attention a miracle deserved.

Over his shoulder in the next room, a beautifully set table awaited us, candles flickering. But I couldn’t wait. I spooned out a pink shrimp topped with melted feta and sprinkled it with freshly chopped parsley. Tim’s eyes were still shut. “Open up,” I said, blowing on the morsel. Our first, albeit tiny, moment of vulnerability and trust.

Tim did as I asked, smiling in anticipation, and I popped the bite into his mouth. He moaned with pleasure, a sound so appreciative that it conveyed all I needed to know in terms of our culinary compatibility. Without opening his eyes, he reached for my hand, turned it over and kissed the inside of my wrist. “This is perfection.” And it was.