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Post by malia on Jan 9, 2024 23:05:02 GMT -5
She loves getting presents. She loves giving them too. But she really loves getting them. And it doesn’t seem to matter that her birthday hadn’t been all that long ago and she’d had presents to open then. It doesn’t make the excitement of the huge box he pulls over to her any less palpable. Her heart flutters with excitement as she hands Ava to him, the pain of her very unwelcome period completely forgotten for the moment. Though her claws still come out a little too easily as she moves to run them through the wrapping paper. His wrapping is noticeably neater and nicer than hers, but she makes quick work of it revealing the gift inside.
Her mouth falls open in awe. It’s a brand new stroller, and not like the one that they already had…the one that had been a hand me down from Olive. The box says that this is a running stroller, and it has a picture of a woman running with a baby strapped in the stroller.
“So I can take her running with me?” She asks him wide eyed. She didn’t even know anything like this really existed. He nods and she almost leaps into his arms, well she would have if he wasn’t holding the baby against his chest. She throws her arms around his neck, pressing kisses to his cheek. He knew her so well, nobody had ever known her like he does. “I love it.” And she does, very much so. In fact, if she felt better there was a chance she would have asked him if she could just take Ava out in the stroller right now.
But she doesn’t feel great, her entire middle still aching. And there’s a pile of presents for Ava under the tree, even though she’s still way too little to really comprehend what’s going on. And there were those cinnamon rolls waiting to be popped in the oven. And She doesn’t want this moment to end. She pulls back so she can kiss him on the lips, careful not to press too hard against Ava where she rests against his shoulder. “Thank you.” She pulls away from him only so she can lean in and press a kiss to Ava’s head. “Now you can come running with mama,” She coos as Ava stares at her with those big eyes. She moves her little fist to her mouth, and Malia thinks for a brief moment that she might see a hint of a smile…just ever so slight.
“Maybe we can even take her on some of the trails in the Preserve with this stroller,” She says excitedly, focusing her attention back on Stiles. It looks like it would be rugged enough to go on some of the trails through the woods.
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Post by stiles on Jan 9, 2024 23:32:24 GMT -5
Whatever lingering unease he feels over the money situation is gone when Stiles takes in Malia’s excitement over the stroller. First, it’s the way she resorts to using her claws to rip through the paper. Then, it’s her joy over the idea of being able to take Ava running with her. He laughs as she presses a flurry of kisses to his cheek, looping his arm around her waist to keep her close. He had been excited about the gift for weeks, imagining morning runs when they could finally go together again, something they hadn’t done since she was pregnant. And her delight over the gift doesn’t disappoint as she switches her attention back and forth from the photo on the box to the baby in his arms. She’s happy, and that’s all he truly needs.
“We can take it wherever you want,” he tells her as he lets go of her waist so he can adjust the baby on his shoulder. In all honesty, he had already thought about the preserve. And the route they could run to his dad’s. Along with the diner she loves, and the ice cream place down the street from it. And the campground he wanted to go multiple times this summer. Really, he planned for her to use it everywhere, knowing that she had loved running before Ava came along. And maybe he had wanted to give her a little piece of that freedom, a chance to run outside more, a way to keep her from ever feeling trapped.
“I can put it together later,” he tells her as she continues to stare at the box, her hand pressed just below that image of the mother and baby as she studies it. Ava chooses that moment to make a small sound, a soft coo like she’s just started to do in the last week. “Oh, is that you saying it’s your turn, Aves?” he says, pressing a kiss to her dark hair. “Should we open one of your presents?”
In all reality, the baby couldn’t care less. She mostly stares at the two of them wide-eyed as they unwrap the pile of gifts they had just wrapped the night before. But it’s the start of a tradition, just like he had told her the night before. By this time next year, she would be excited about toys, and maybe she’d be able to unwrap some of them on her own. But for now, they take turns holding her while the other person unwraps tiny clothes and lift-the-flap books and toys she’ll grow into. She smiles at a tiny dog that barks and wags its tail and walks in circles before pretending to sleep. She stares contentedly at a book about dinosaurs as Malia reads it to her. She tries to reach for the rattle they pull from her stocking. And even if she has no memory of this first Christmas morning, Stiles knows he’ll remember it forever.
Ava makes it an hour before she begins to fuss. Really, it’s more the build up to fussing when she starts rooting in Stiles’s arms, but he knows that sign by heart. “Somebody’s hungry,” Malia says as she reaches out a hand to smooth down Ava’s hair. “Very hungry. Do you want to nurse her?” he asks cautiously, remembering her panic over being too near the baby earlier. But this time she scoops the baby from his arms, already pulling up her pajama top to expose her breast.
Stiles presses a kiss to both of their heads before standing up from the floor and grabbing both of their mugs. They took a break a little while ago to start warming up the cinnamon rolls Malia had been so excited about the day before, and now is the perfect time to grab more coffee and breakfast for the two of them, too. But as the coffee maker warms up a second time, he hears as Ava begins to cry. Malia’s soft voice follows, and then it’s silent for only thirty seconds before she cries again. When it happens a third time as he’s starting the coffee maker, Stiles can’t ignore it. “Is she okay?” he calls out to the next room.
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Post by malia on Jan 10, 2024 21:09:13 GMT -5
Just like Stiles, Malia would always remember this Christmas morning…Ava’s first Christmas…as one of the best of her life. There are moments she will never forget, and moments she will cherish until the day she dies. Giving Stiles his gift, opening Ava’s presents, reading to her by the soft glow of the tree, the smell of the fresh baked rolls and hot coffee, and the way Stiles looks as he grins while he holds the baby and watches her open one of the many presents they’d wrapped.
There were other moments of the day that she would remember with a much less positive light, though they would all be learning moments. And this quiet time alone with Ava is one of those moments. Stiles leaves them alone as she settles cross legged on the floor, her back resting against the couch as she cups her breast and helps Ava latch on. The baby signs contentedly as she latches on to Malia’s nipple, her hand coming to rest against the skin for her breast. And she’s fine…for a moment. But then her eyes go wide, and she breaks her latch with a smack, her face immediately turning that crimson shade of red as she begins to cry.
“What’s the matter my love?” She coos. She glides her finger over her nipple, trapping a droplet of that milk that’s come to rest there and gently touching Ava’s lips and the baby only cries harder. She pulls her shirt up and all the way off. Maybe she was just having trouble with that side. Maybe the other side will be better for her this morning. She shifts the baby, bringing her to her other breast and doing the same thing. And just like before, Ava latches on, settles for a brief moment, and beings to cry again. Every time Malia tries to help her latch again, she turns her little face away, getting angrier and angrier with every attempt. Malia can feel her little body stiffen as she works herself up in to a full blown fit.
She glances over her shoulder when she hears Stiles voice, those cramps coming back in full force as she sighs. Ava’s tears are bringing her to the verge of tears. This has never happened before. “I don’t know,” She calls back over Ava’s wailing. “I can’t get her to eat!” There’s a very slight edge of panic to her voice as she lifts Ava up to her shoulder, patting her back and trying to calm her down so she can try again.
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Post by stiles on Jan 10, 2024 21:41:16 GMT -5
Nursing had been hard until it wasn’t. Those first few days, Malia had struggled, probably because she had thought it would come as easily to her and Ava as breathing, but by the time Stiles went back to work, they had seemed like pros. When people had asked at work (because apparently, it was just socially acceptable to ask about whether Malia was nursing, and how long she had pushed for, and how many stitches she needed), they would mention thrush and clogged milk ducts, and Stiles would just shrug his shoulders as he said that Ava was an easy baby. Aside from her cluster feeding spell a few weeks ago, feeding had never been an issue.
So it catches his attention when the baby is suddenly screaming in the next room. It’s not her normal fussing that she starts to do when her rooting hasn’t resulted in her finding any milk. Noyou , this is an angry cry. One he recognizes from the times when they’ve had to change her diaper or wait until they’re parked somewhere to feed her. For a split second, his mind is filled with that image of Malia folding in on herself this morning, moaning as she wrapped her arms around herself, and his chest feels tight at the thought of Malia suddenly in too much pain to feed their baby. It worries him enough for him to set down the mug in his hands and take a step towards the living room, but then he hears her voice.
She sounds frantic, like she’s on the edge of panicking. And alone in the kitchen, he sighs. Immediately, he’s hit with a wave of guilt, but before the guilt, he feels like they can’t also handle a baby who refuses to eat right now, Like they have already reached their threshold for inconveniences today, and there’s no room left for this one. But he can hear his fiance in the next room, pleading with the baby, and he knows he has to find room for this one, too.
He finds her on that same spot on the living room floor. Her pajama top is discarded on the floor and Ava is against her shoulder, her eyes wet as she sucks on her pacifier.“Do you need a hand?” he asks her, even though he can’t remember the last time he assisted her in getting the baby to latch. Malia says she doesn’t know again, that the baby just won’t eat, and he can hear the tears threatening to fall in her voice. “Well, let’s try,” he offers as he kneels beside her. He pops the pacifier out of Ava’s mouth as Malia repositions her in her arms. Stiles strokes her tiny head as Malia cups her breast. He holds the baby steady then as Malia curls her towards her breast. Ava latches, just like she has a hundred times before, and Stiles holds his breath as he watches her begin to eat.
And then she unlatches with a smack.
Her face is bright red as she thrashes in Malia’s arms. Malia sounds desperate as she pleads with the baby again, and it’s ask she strokes her tiny cheek that Stiles notices her claws. She’s too distraught to notice herself, but as her emotions have gotten the better of her, she’s moved closer to a shift again. And as much as he trusts her, he knows she’ll never forgive herself if she hurts Ava. “Hey,” he says gently as he places his hand on hers, lacing his fingers through hers so it seems less obvious when he slowly guides it away from the baby’s face. “I can tell you’re getting frustrated. Why don’t we just give her a bottle?”
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Post by malia on Jan 10, 2024 22:51:19 GMT -5
She doesn’t even try to hide her relief when he finally comes into the room. She can feel herself getting shaky as she tries to stay in control. As wonderful as most of the morning had been, she feels like shes on her third strike for this Christmas. She nods when he offers his help, settling down on the floor beside her. He takes the baby’s pacifier and she moves her to cradle her against her breast again. And just like it had the two times before, even with his help, she latches and almost immediately pulls away, her crying intensifying.
She doesn’t even realize her claws are out again as she strokes Ava’s cheek, not until Stiles is lacing his fingers through hers and gently guiding them away from Ava’s soft and new skin. She can feel the tears, unwelcome and frustrating as they begin to spill from the corner of her eyes. She hated crying, and now she and Ava are sitting here doing it together. She didn’t want to give her a bottle, she wanted to feed her like she always did, but she can also admit defeat. And the fact that she’s having trouble controlling herself renews that fear inside of her for the safety of the baby. She nods, pushing Ava into Stiles arms
“I can’t control my claws,” She tells him, climbing to her feet. “I’ll get the bottle and you feed her.”
She would have to pump anyways. Her breasts are swollen and tender and it’s just adding to the pain that’s already overwhelming her. She quickly makes her way into the kitchen, retrieving one of the small bags of her milk so she can warm it up in the bottle warmer. It only takes a few minutes to get it ready for Stiles and he’s still trying to comfort Ava in his arms when she brings him the bottle. She can’t hide her frustration with her body as she picks up her shirt, pulling it on roughly. Maybe the baby could somehow sense how unsettled her body was and that’s why she couldn’t calm her down enough to feed her.
“I need to go pump,” she tells him, as Ava easily settles in with the bottle, her crying almost immediately coming to an end. She makes her way to the bedroom, pulling the bloody sheets off the bed. She gathers them up and takes them to the clothes hamper so she doesn’t have to look at them anymore. She digs the pump out of the drawer, pulling her shirt off again and sitting in the chair in the corner so she can hook herself up to the machine instead of actually feeding her baby.
It’s Christmas, but she’s feeling very sorry for herself at the moment.
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Post by stiles on Jan 10, 2024 23:57:45 GMT -5
She is crying by the time she half shoves the baby into his arms and quickly gets to her feet. “Yeah. Okay,” he says when she tells him to feed the baby because what else can he say? She won’t appreciate pity or apology. It feels disingenuous to try to argue that everything she’s feeling right now is temporary. For the first time in a long time, Stiles isn’t really sure how to comfort her.
He gets to his own feet as he offers Ava the pacifier again, and then rock-bounces her as he paces in the living room. “Mama’s getting your bottle,” he tells her as she stares up at him with those still wet gray eyes. “You have the best mama.”
His heart breaks for her mama all over again when Malia barely looks at him as she hands him the bottle. She grabs her shirt from the floor and tugs it back on, and it feels a little like she’s shutting him out. His stomach sinks as he watches her retreat towards their bedroom, not even glancing at him over her shoulder as she tells him that she has to go pump. “I’m sorry, Mal,” he calls after her, even though he’s not even sure what he’s apologizing for. But he doesn’t know what else to say to her as he stands there feeding their baby.
“What’s going on with you, Aves?” he asks when it’s only the two of them. “Why won’t you nurse?” Already, the baby is fighting sleep. Her tiny eyelids are heavy as she tries to stare up at him and mostly fails. She sleep eats most of the bottle while he sinks onto the couch beside the Christmas tree. The cinnamon rolls are cooling, untouched, in the kitchen alongside with the second cup of coffee he had poured both of them and then abandoned. There’s still wrapping paper strewn across the floor. Ava’s new things are haphazardly piled in multiple places. In a few hours, they’ll have guests here for Christmas, and Stiles feels like life feels as messy as the room looks. And he just feels tired.
When Ava finishes her bottle, she’s fast asleep. Stiles tucks her into the crook of his arm and presses a kiss to her forehead as he carries her towards the nursery. It’s a new development, letting her nap in her crib, but he’s grateful they started before now today. Because now, he can lay her down and then go to Malia in their bedroom without worrying about waking the baby.
When he walks back into their room, she doesn’t say a word, but he can feel her eyes on him as he crosses the room to the monitor and turns it on. Then he sinks onto the bed across from the chair, facing her. “I was going to take care of the sheets. You didn’t have to do that,” he tells her, feeling another wave of guilt and knowing he should’ve just taken care of them immediately. But Malia only curls her legs more tightly beneath her, the only sound the hum of her pump. He sighs as he rests his chin in his hand, watching her carefully. “Are you okay?”
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Post by malia on Jan 11, 2024 14:28:42 GMT -5
Sure, it’s self pity. Even she’s human enough to admit that sometimes she struggles with it. Especially when she’s hormonal, and in pain, and nothing really seems to be going right. So she does sit there feeling sorry for herself while the gentle hum of the pump fills the room. Thanks to her supernatural senses, she can hear the way Stiles talks to the baby, she can sense his footfalls as he takes her into the nursery and lays her down in her crib, and she knows when he’s on his way to join her in the bedroom.
She watches him as he glances around, turning on the monitor, climbing onto the now bare bed. The reality was, she didn’t want him to have to deal with the sheets. It wasn’t because she was embarrassed, not really. They’d both seen her body do a lot of weird things since she’d gotten pregnant and she’d never really been self-conscious. But she didn’t want to look at it anymore, and she should have taken care of it as soon as they’d gotten up. If it had been any other day she would have. But then her coyote decided she wanted to be in the mix and she couldn’t control it, and it was Christmas, and there was pain, and it was just…a lot.
She pulls her legs in as she watches him, ponding his question for a moment before she answers. Was she okay? She’s not sure. It had been an incredible morning, but everything that was happening with her seemed off. “I just don’t know what’s going on,” she tells him honestly. Nursing had always made sense since they’d gotten the hang of it, and she likes those moments with Ava. So there is a real pang of emotional pain when she thinks about the fact that Ava wouldn’t take her.
“Why wouldn’t she nurse?” She asks him, a bit of a whine to her voice that she’s not familiar with. “And why can’t I control my shift? And why does this hurt so bad?”
She looks at him, her eyes threatening to spill with more tears of self pity in the rainy morning light of their bedroom. Of course it was raining this Christmas, it seemed fitting.
“And why did this have to happen on Christmas Day?”
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Post by stiles on Jan 11, 2024 18:19:06 GMT -5
This is the part of parenting nobody warned them about, he thinks as he watches her worry her lip without saying anything at first. Loving Ava was easy. Taking care of her was easy. Hell, even the sleepless nights were easy compared to this. But they weren’t the same people they were before they became parents. And as much as he loved this version of Malia better than any of the ones he had known before now, her postpartum body is sometimes still really confusing. And he has no idea what he’s doing navigating conversations like this.
One thing he knows with certainty, though, is that he wishes he could pull her into his arms then as she shrinks into herself there in the chair. But she’s still pumping, and he knows it’ll be awkward for those first few seconds as they fit their bodies together, and he doesn’t know if that will just trigger her more. So he stays where he is on the edge of the bed as she finally starts talking. He could have named the reasons she was upset already, but hearing her list them one after the other only breaks his heart more. The baby won’t nurse. She’s not in control of her own body. She’s in pain.
And of all the days, it’s Christmas.
He snorts as she lists off her last question. “It’s really shitty timing,” he says. Malia rolls her eyes in agreement, but Stiles leans forward as he sobers. “But maybe this is just because it’s been so long. It’s been over a year since your body has done this, so maybe it’s making up for lost time?” He winces as he says it. Malia huffs, those tears still threatening to spill down her cheeks. Stiles makes a mental note to talk to Nat and try to get her an answer for why she feels so awful. Even if it’s only so she doesn’t have to dread this time every month for the rest of… well, ever.
“I think that might be why Ava won’t nurse, too,” he says tentatively. Malia’s brow furrows as he looks at him. “Your period, I mean. When you thought you might be pregnant, I wanted to make sure it was safe for you to still nurse. But the internet said Ava might’ve weaned herself because your hormones would make your milk taste different.” Her face pales, and she looks distraught sitting across from him. There’s a knot in his stomach again as he leans closer to her. “But that’s not going to happen. This should be temporary.”
She doesn’t seem convinced, but at least she seems to relax in the chair. At least, until she winces again, her hand rubbing her lower abdomen. His own expression doesn’t hide his concern. “Would a bath help?” he asks. “Or a nap? I can find the heating pad Melissa gave you. I just… I want to do something to help you feel better.”
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Post by malia on Jan 11, 2024 22:12:22 GMT -5
It had been a long time. She hadn’t had a period since before she was pregnant. She forgot how much she hated them. How inconvenient they were. But having them be this painful on top of that seems to take her to a whole new level of hatred. But she also knows enough about how the human body works now to know that, without those periods, there would be no Ava. And no more babies in the future if they stopped coming. They were a curse, but they were also a blessing in some twisted way.
She can’t help the wince that crosses her face as he mentions that the length of time is maybe why it’s so bad. And maybe why Ava won’t nurse. But that part does scare her. She’s not ready to give that up yet. Ava was two months old, she wasn’t ready for those moments with her baby to stop. She didn’t want to give it up. How cruel would it be if nature was the thing that took it away from her? But Stiles assures her that’s not going to happen…and she believes him. She always believes him. But even the thought of going 5 to 7 days and not being able to nurse Ava makes her heart feel heavy, those cramps coming back full force. She feels one of those tears slide down her cheek as she finally pulls the pump away from her breasts, having mostly emptied them both.
The next week was going to be torture.
She groans slightly as one of those sharp pangs of pain hits her hard and she moves her hands to her abdomen. He’s on the edge of the bed already, but she swears he moves a little closer. She wipes angrily at her cheek, frustrated with the entire situation. She listens to his offers and she thinks about it for a moment. “A bath might be good,” she tells him honestly. “If you’ll get in with me.”
She doesn’t wait for him to answer before she gets up, stripping down to her underwear as she makes her way to the bathroom so she can clean herself up. She goes ahead and turns the water on, as hot as she thinks he’ll be able to stand it (she can always go hotter than him). He’s still not there when she’s completely naked, the tub half full, so she peaks her head around the corner to see him gathering up her pumping supplies, setting the small bags of milk on the dresser.
“Are you coming?”
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Post by stiles on Jan 11, 2024 23:23:48 GMT -5
“A bath sounds great,” he tells her retreating frame as he stays rooted to the mattress. In all honesty, he’s too busy watching the way she sheds her clothing on the way there, leaving those Christmas pajamas strewn across the floor. His cock twitches inside his own pajama pants at the sight of her bare back, and he feels a pang of guilt, knowing she’s hurting and he’s still turned on. But she is forever his weakness. Stiles hadn’t even been thinking about joining her in the bath. His plan had been to draw her a bath and give her whatever amount of space she needed, but at this point, he would do anything she asked if it seemed like it would make her feel better in any way. And a bath feels like a pretty easy request to fill.
He gets up from the bed as he hears the water start in the next room. It feels appropriate to give her some privacy to clean herself up first, so he lingers in the bedroom, listening for the sounds of her moving around the bathroom. But then he notices her pump discarded haphazardly in the chair, and the precious milk inside, and he’s easily distracted. The milk probably isn’t good, he thinks sadly to himself. If Ava refused to nurse this morning, she’d probably refuse it in a bottle, too. His heart breaks for what feels like the millionth time that day as he envisions her face as she has to pour all that milk down the sink. And then it occurs to him to seal the bags and leave it there. There’s no way of knowing how long they might linger in the tub, and something about their shared negligence resulting in the ruined milk feels like it might be easier for her to stomach.
Her voice cuts through his thoughts, and he wonders for just a second if he’s doing right by her. But then he seals the second back as he calls back, “Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Before he can change his mind, he sets down the bag and heads for the bathroom. His shirt is off by the time he reaches the threshold, just as she’s easing herself into the water with a relieved sigh. He sloughs off his pajama pants and boxers in one easy motion and then moves towards the tub. Malia leans forward with a moan, and he awkwardly maneuvers himself to slide in behind her.
The tub in the main bathroom is small, not build for two people. But this isn’t the first time they’ve shared the tub like this - nor is it the most they’ve done in said tub. Still, it’s a tight squeeze that takes some balancing and some hanging onto the side of the tub for dear life. He hisses as the heat of the water touches more sensitive parts of his body, but then he’s in the bath, and she slides back into the space between his legs like she was made to fit just so.
His arm wraps around her waist, pulling her gently until her back is flush against his chest. “You feel good,” he murmurs before pressing a kiss to a spot just behind her ear. Her firm backside brushes against his cock, and he can feel himself growing hard. He’s sure she can feel him growing hard, but he’s very much aware of the fact that this is meant to solely ease her pain. “No wonder you haven’t felt right,” he muses as he lets his head fall back against the lip of the tub. One of his hands lazily rubs her abdomen while the other still stays wrapped around her, keeping her there against his body. “Your body’s been all out of sorts.”
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Post by malia on Jan 12, 2024 11:04:36 GMT -5
She may true and well feel like shit, but her eyes are not blind to the act of him undressing himself. Even in his awkward and gangly kind of grace, she thinks he’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. His long legs and lean torso, his cock that she likes to think was made just for her, the lines of the muscles in his abdomen and his arms as he uses them to climb into the tub with her. She can’t help but think to herself that Christmas morning that it must be a dream that he found her, that she gets to be here with him like this now. And not just because she thinks he’s beautiful, but because he’s beautiful on the inside too. The way he loves her, the way he takes care of her…even cleaning up the mess she’d left with the pump and wanting to take care of the bed after her body had been the one to soil it. The fact that he’s the most incredibly, awe-inspiring, breathtaking father to their tiny baby that she has ever seen. Beyond her wildest dreams. She never knew a father like him could even exist, but he’s there, and he’s her mate, and her is the father of HER child.
Yeah, she’s really lucky. Way luckier than she deserves.
She settles back against him once he gets settled into the warm water. She hears him hiss so she knows that she might have left the temperature just a little too high for him, but he seems to relax into it as he pulls her back against him. She does feel him get hard against her back and she’d be lying if she didn’t feel that familiar ache of desire between her own legs, even now when her body is rebelling against her in every other aspect. But she only snuggles in closer, enjoying the feel of his cock against her even if it’s not inside of her. HIs lips are warm and soft against her shoulder, and even though she knows it’s not really possible for him, she doesn’t feel like his hand there against her lower belly seems to leach some of that pain away from her in a strange way.
She can’t help but scoff a little when he says she feels good, she rests her head back against his shoulder, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of him and the water. “I’m glad I feel good to you because I feel like shit to me,” she says somewhat jokingly, but honestly….
She ponders his next statement. She had been feeling off for a while. She guesses maybe it started right before the weekend of her birthday. She’d just been so tired, so….goddamn emotional in all of the ways she hated. And then she’d been throwing up for no apparent reason. It wasn’t like she really caught bugs, not like humans did. She rests her hand on top of his where it stays against her belly, lacing her fingers through his. “I wonder if that’s why I was sick when we went away for my birthday?” It seemed like a long time ago, but in reality it had only been a few weeks. Maybe her body HAD already been preparing for this horrible, disgusting, cruel act of nature.
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Post by stiles on Jan 12, 2024 12:24:08 GMT -5
“Maybe,” he muses as he lets his hand moved to her side, moving down to her hip and then up to the familiar swell of her breast. “I mean, you’re not pregnant.”
Stiles would be lying if he said he hadn’t still felt a little apprehension after their scare. He didn’t have a reason to not trust the two tests she had taken. But at the same time, there had just been so many little things that didn’t seem normal for her. Malia had still been emotional over the littlest things. She had been tired, more tired than either of them had been in the three months they had had Ava. There still was no reason to explain away the way she got sick the weekend of her birthday, and just last night, she had asked him to be gentle with her breasts because they were sore. At least now, there was a reasonable explanation for all of her ailments, one that didn’t involve another baby.
Malia lets her head fall back against his chest. He pulls his hand away from her side to run it through her hair, then brings it back to the base of her skull and massages her scalp. She makes a soft sound of appreciation and presses her head back into his palm. Stiles is struck again by the whiplash feeling of this holiday. He had felt so anxious that morning, but then their time exchanging gifts had been everything he had hoped it would be. And then she had been so upset about the baby refusing to nurse, but this feels good.
Like he wishes he could just stay here for the rest of the day.
“You know, we can cancel for today,” he says then. As if her body needs to remind her why she may want to cancel, she tenses in his arms then, and he hears her soft moan. Her hand tightens around his against his abdomen, and he wishes, not for the first time in his life, that he could steal pain the way she could. “If you’re not feeling up to seeing people, they don’t have to come. They’ll understand.”
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Post by malia on Jan 12, 2024 15:54:22 GMT -5
His hand feels good as it roams her body, exploring curves and swells that he was all too familiar with but always felt amazing. But it feels even better when he brings it to the base of her skull and really begins to massage her through her hair. She isn’t really sure what sound she makes but she hopes he realizes it’s one of pleasure. And he must because he keeps doing it. She focuses on her breathing, the warmth of his body pressed up against hers, the soft feeling of his breath as it brushes against her ear every so often, and how good it feels to be here between his legs, in his embrace. The pain almost goes away for a little while as the bask in the warm water and the feel of each others bodies.
He seems to consider her words with about as much certainty as she felt. To be honest, neither of them would probably ever know why she’d been sick that weekend, but at least they knew it wasn’t because she was pregnant again. Hopefully it had just been a fluke, a one off thing that wouldn’t happen again. And if it was somehow related to her period, she hopes to God that this isn’t going to become an every month occurrence. It’s going to be bad enough not being able to nurse Ava for that week out of every month.
Just when he begins to speak, that pain comes back full force. She moans and inadvertently tightens her hand against his there on her lower belly. She really doesn’t remember a period ever being this painful before. She wishes now more than ever that there was some kind of drug she could take that would actually help with the pain. But she does hear what he says and she immediately turns her body so she can see his face. “No,” she says adamantly. He loved Christmas. She’d already messed this day up enough, or at least her stupid body had, she didn’t want to mess it up for him any more. Besides, she wanted to see their family too. They had presents for everyone and she’d even picked out a special coffee mug for Noah all by herself. “I don’t want to cancel. I’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
She wasn’t sure, and she couldn’t trust her body. There was a very real chance she would lose control and begin to shift right there in the middle of their Christmas dinner. But at least she could leave the room. And at least Stiles could still have Christmas.
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Post by stiles on Jan 12, 2024 16:44:19 GMT -5
Noah would understand. Stiles knows that, without a doubt, his father wouldn’t be offended or disappointed if Stiles said Malia just wasn’t up to having company. And she might be okay with Scott and Nat still coming, but if not, they’d find their way to Noah’s, too. And Stiles would be okay with a quiet Christmas. Already, today hadn’t been what he pictured for Ava’s first Christmas, but it still felt like they were making the most of it. They could do that tonight, too. A quiet, small Christmas might be an even better first Christmas with their daughter. It’s only one year out of the many, many Christmases they would spend together.
But Malia shakes her head, turning in his arms so that she’s looking right at him as she tells him that she doesn’t want to cancel. There’s a tiny bit of relief as she says it, bringing her hand to rest on his cheek. Stiles grew up in a family rooted in holiday traditions, and he had never been good with change, so there’s no real surprise that he doesn’t want to go the entire day without seeing his family. Then again, Malia and Ava are the only people in the world he would make that sacrifice for. “You can always change your mind,” he tells her, giving her hand still holding his beneath the water a squeeze. “No one will be mad.”
They linger there in the bathtub until the water begins to cool and his legs start to cramp from the way they’re bent around her. She untangles herself from him first, dripping water across the floor as she moves from the tub to the shower, hoping the heat will relieve some of the pain and leave her feeling a little more refreshed. While she showers, he checks on Ava, still fast asleep in her crib. He puts Malia’s pump on its charger and then pours that milk down the sink, figuring that this way maybe she’ll just forget about its existence. Then he takes his phone, texting Scott to ask for Nat’s phone number, only feeling slightly guilty for using this newly formed connection for medical advice.
When he returns to the bathroom, Malia is out of the shower, and he swaps with her, quickly showering away to wash off the long morning and that lingering tension. He steps back into their bedroom with a towel slung around his waist to find her curled on her side on their bed, her back to him. He can hear her moan softly every so often, and he feels grateful when his phone vibrates with a text from an unfamiliar number. He texts Nat back with the details of their morning, asking for advice. In the linen closet, he finds the discarded heating pad, then heats it up in the microwave while he reads Nat’s response that this is all normal, but that she has something that might provide Malia some relief. That she’ll bring it with her tonight.
Malia’s still curled on her side when he returns to their room. Her eyes are closed and her face is etched in pain. Gently, he lifts her hand away from her lower abdomen as he moves the heating pad there for her. She opens a single eye to look at him, and he gives her a sympathetic smile. “Just rest,” he says. He presses a kiss to her forehead, brushing her hair behind her ear. “I’ve got the baby.”
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Post by malia on Jan 12, 2024 20:47:05 GMT -5
She doesn’t want to get out of the bathtub, but even she has to admit that the water starts to get chilly, their fingers starting to prune on the tips from the amount of time they’d been in the water. So, when he urges her, they reluctantly climb out of the tub together and she immediately gets into a hot shower. That immediately warms her up and helps with the cramps for a little while. By the time she gets out, he’s no longer in their bedroom. She dries herself off, toweling her hair as dry as she can, and she only pulls on a pair of panties just because she knows she’ll need to have a pad. She checks the monitor, smiling as she sees Ava sleeping peacefully in her crib, and then she herself climbs into their bed.
It’s not long before the pain comes creeping back, seemingly ten times worse than it had been before they got in the tub. She hears him come back into the bedroom, turning on the water for his own shower. The sound of the running water must make her doze off slightly because when she opens her eye, he’s there in front of her with a towel wrapped around his waist. She doesn’t fight him as he lifts her hand away from her belly and replaces it with the warm heating bad. It feels good immediately. And she doesn’t fight him when he offers to take care of the baby while she rests either. Maybe, just maybe if she can rest for a little while, she’ll feel more in control of her body by the time everybody gets there. She feels him cover her up with a blanket and thats the last thing she remembers.
By the time she opens her eyes again, she can hear the clamor of voices coming from the other room and she wonders if maybe she’s slept through the entire day and Stiles just hadn’t woken her up. But it’s still dreary and light outside of the curtains so she climbs out of bed with moan. The pain has returned full force as she finds her ugly Christmas sweater that she’d worn for a party a few years ago and has made her Christmas uniform. She pulls it on unceremoniously along with a pair of ripped jeans. And she finishes off her very unfestive look with a messy pony tail. It’s all she can manage before she brushes her teeth and makes her way out to the family room where everyone has already arrived.
The last time they’d all been together she’d been less than pleasant. She doesn’t want a repeat performance. She puts on her best smile as she makes her way into the room, trying not to be self-conscious as everyone looks up at her. “Merry Christmas everyone.”
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