Random One Shots

Random one shots with actors, musicians/bands and characters.

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258. Ed Sheeran 3 Part 4

~He looked so much smaller all bundled up in his car seat. Ed made sure he was tightly secured before we even left the hospital, tugging over and over on his shoulder straps to be certain he was safe.
I sat in the back with him while Ed drove us, incredibly slowly I might add, and although I knew he was only trying to be careful, I was growing immensely annoyed at the blaring car horns when each of them sped past us. Ed brushed the majority of them off, but saved a flick of his middle finger for a special two or three.
We miraculously made it home in one piece and after spending two days in the hospital, we both couldn’t wait to be in the comfort of our own home. Ed opened my door, helping me climb out, and although I wanted to be the one to carry the baby in, he insisted, unraveling the car seat from the latched in base and taking me under my left arm to help me in the house.
“This is weird isn’t it?” I asked him once he shut the door behind us, “It’s just the three of us now.”
Ed gently placed the car seat down, crouching in front of it as he pushed the handle back, smiling at the sleeping baby, his little bottom lip poking out while he snored, “it’s gonna be even weirder at three in the morning when we don’t have a nurse to help us figure out why he’s screaming his head off,” he whispered, being cautious to not wake him.
Although I knew Ed was probably right, I wasn’t too nervous about us having full responsibility over the new addition. We would do just fine.
It’d been two days since I was able to shower, and since I had Ed home with me, I opted to take one, especially while the baby slept. He was more than happy to have some one-on-one time with the baby, and I made sure to tell him there would be plenty more where that came from.
Just before shutting the bathroom door, I poked my head out, seeing Ed knelt in front of the car seat, smiling and gently rocking it forward and back, beginning to hum.
I got lost in the warm stream of water, letting it wash away the sterile smell of the hospital and sleep from my eyes. It suddenly hit me how tired I was, having not slept more than two hours in its entirety during the whole duration of the hospital stay. Halfway through, I heard the baby’s familiar high-pitched shrill but quickly brushed it off, wanting to trust Ed and not make him feel like he couldn’t do it.
”Babe?”
And there it was, or rather, there Ed was, rapping at the bathroom door with a hint of nervousness laced in his tone, and I pictured him there behind it with the baby wailing and wiggling in his arms.
”I really hate to bother you, but I think he’s hungry.”
I quickly rinsed and shut the faucet, my heart breaking at the way he sounded so distressed and helpless, while the baby screeched in raspy cries, not knowing any other way to say that he needed us.
”I’ll be right out babe, why don’t you try his pacifier?”
”I did,” he yelled over the baby’s crying, “he kept spitting it out.”
A smile spread over my face as I quickly patted down and threw on a fresh pair of yoga pants, opting to just wrap a towel around my hair and my upper half, since the baby was going to eat anyway.
Ed’s forehead was coated with sweat when I opened the door, bobbing the baby up and down.
”Sorry, love,” he said, shaking his head with a look I can only describe as remorseful.
”Don’t be sorry,” I told him, “just bring him to our room and I’ll try and feed him.”
I gave Ed a smile, rubbing his left shoulder gently before landing a quick kiss against his cheek, the skin hot against my lips.
As I expected, he was right when he thought the baby was hungry, and he surrounded me with pillows and wedged one under my arm to support the weight while I fed him. Ed sat cross-legged in front of me on the bed, stroking the fuzz atop his son’s head while he ate.
”Do you think we’ll be okay?” he asked me, his eyes fixed on the baby, his hand trailing from his head to his hand where he wrapped his tiny fist tightly around his dad’s index finger.
I nodded, bringing my free right hand to caress Ed’s cheek, “we’re gonna be fine.”
Ed burped him while I threw a loose top on, seeing him behind me in the mirror as I brushed my hair out. He held the baby carefully upright against his shoulder, just like he did the first time in the hospital, gently patting his back until a tiny burp came out. He smiled and turned his head just enough to plant a kiss beside his little ear.
During the pregnancy, I’d had multiple dreams about the baby being here. Some of them were gentle and reassuring, while others woke me up wondering if we would be good parents. Ed confessed after I’d told him of one of my own dreams that he had one of his own of him being left alone with the baby and not being able to stop him from crying, no matter what he did. I of course reassured him, and even after only having a three day old newborn, he was already showing me what it meant to be a great father.
I finished up my hair and trailed back over to Ed as he brought the baby back down from his shoulder, cradling him neatly in the wedge of his left arm.
”Look babe,” he said, a hint of humor in his tone. I saw his finger land directly above the dimple in the baby’s chin, pulling down his bottom lip gently, “It looks like he’s talking.”
“Hey mommy,” he laughed, continuing in his high-pitched baby-like tone, “how’s it feel to be milked?”
I rolled my eyes, seeing him hardly able to contain himself with laughter as his eyebrows angled and eyes squinted in amusement.
”What am I in for with the two of you?” I trailed, just then realizing the gravity of having Ed in charge of a smaller version of himself. I was in trouble.
“We won’t torture you too much,” he gave the baby’s nose a quick peck, whispering as if I couldn’t hear, “mommy doesn’t know what she’s in for at all little man.”
Not two solid seconds after the sentence left his mouth, he whipped his head back and away from the baby in surprise.
“Oh my God…” he grimaced, his face screwing up.
A flush of worry went through me until I got close enough to smell the freshly soiled diaper. Before Ed could even protest, I threw my hand over my nose, waving my hand toward him, “that’s a daddy one, and payback for your cute little joke.”
I’d already changed nearly ninety percent of the diapers, since Ed was either out of the room or busy doing something for me when he was due for a changing. And luckily for me, I hadn’t witnessed an extreme blowout as they’re so commonly called in the new-mom world, since the nurses were the ones to catch his very first number two.
I followed Ed to the nursery, getting prepared to help him with the mess I knew it was going to be.
Anyone witnessing Ed change the baby would think he was working with toxic chemicals by the way he was hiding his nose in his shirt, and the way he carefully peeled off the diaper tabs like a crab using two pincers.
”Oh no babe, it’s gone everywhere,” he said, his eyes squinted and his hands scrambling to keep the baby’s extremities from getting soiled.
I covered my mouth and laughed, scratching the back of Ed’s hair when he hollered with disgust.
“I thought you were a pro?” I teased, gently stroking the baby’s head to calm his crying. He wasn’t the best with getting his diaper changed.
Ed plucked a baby wipe from its container to the left of him, his right hand holding the baby’s kicking feet up and away.
”Ethan Ryan Sheeran,” Ed gasped, seeing that the diaper didn’t exactly live up to its expectations, leaving Ethan’s back and legs soiled. Typical newborn episode.
It was suddenly all hands on deck, and Ed’s didn’t have any idea what to tackle first; the screaming baby, the heavily soiled diaper, or the neat stream of pee that was trailing straight up toward Ed, landing square to the center of his chest, making him jump back with his hands out.
I fell into hysterics, quickly shielding the stream with a wipe, seeing Ed’s strawberry hair flop when he ducked away, his face painted with disgust and shock.
”I am not cut out for this, babe,” he said, suddenly finding humor in the situation. We both knew that if we didn’t find the will to laugh, the two of us would’ve been brought to tears.
We tag-teamed the issue, Ed carrying baby Ethan to the bathroom while I ran a quick bath, sponge bathing him clean while he shivered and wailed, his tiny chin shaking until his face burned red. It took a good hour to get Ethan to settle down afterward, and Ed felt horrible guilt, even though none of it was his fault. He couldn’t stand seeing his baby cry, and I was sure the exhaustion wasn’t helping him any either.
The first night home proved to be a rough one. By eight that night we were both so exhausted we could hardly keep our eyes open, and before the two of us collapsed, I prepared plenty of bottles, showing Ed how to warm them with the bottle warmer when it was his turn to get up with Ethan during the night. He was excited about being able to feed him, having only done it once in the hospital.
At two in the morning, Ethan was good and ready to eat. I crawled out of bed, padding over to him fussing in the bassinet beside our bed, surprised that Ed hadn’t stirred. I scooped Ethan up and got to work. First came a diaper change, then it was time to feed him, and instead of wandering back to our room, I stayed in the nursery, choosing to feed him in the rocking chair rather than wake Ed.
It was nice having my own moment to bond with the baby, rocking him gently as I nursed him, trailing my index finger down his tiny nose while ate. He reminded me so much of Ed with his hair the lightest shade of orange, and his blue eyes alert and looking around. I couldn’t wait for Ed’s mom to bring over his baby pictures so we could compare them side-by-side.
It took nearly an hour to get Ethan back down after he was fed, changed and burped. I swaddled him tightly, planted a soft kiss against his forehead and rocked him until he fell asleep.
Carefully, I tiptoed back to our room and placed Ethan down in his bassinet, kissing his head again before crawling back into bed beside Ed, almost immediately dozing off.
A little more than a half hour later, I awoke to Ethan grunting on the verge of tears. Ed was still sound asleep beside me, his face squished against the pillow and mouth hanging open. I hadn’t seen him sleep so soundly since the last day of his tour a few weeks before.
I didn’t have the heart to wake him, although I was exhausted, I was already up. I slowly sat, looking over at Ethan to see his little hands pawing at his face, having sprung free from the blanket. Ed stirred once a full blown cry came from Ethan, and like it was on cue, Ed shot up, looking around the room as if he’d forgotten where or who he was. He blinked and rubbed his eyes.
”I got him,” he yawned, voice heavy with sleep.
”It’s okay Ed, I got it.”
I’d already stood up, halfway toward Ethan when Ed threw the blankets off him, “no, it’s alright. I heard you get up with him before.”
It became clear that he wasn’t letting me take no for answer, and he stood with a quick stretch, padding over toward the bassinet when I sat back down, happily pulling the balnkets over me.
I plucked the fabric of his boxers from where they were riding up his legs as he bent to pick up Ethan, cuddling him up close to his face.
”Daddy’s here,” he hummed.
Between a yawn and a stretch I told Ed that he’d already eaten but he could try again, finding myself falling asleep shortly after he trailed out of the room, his shadow disappearing around the door frame as he went.
An hour later I woke up to the sound of complete silence, worry filling my chest when I found Ed’s side of the bed cold and empty and Ethan not in his bassinet. A new mother always thinks the worst.
The sun was beginning to rise, filling our room and the hall with a dim orange glow as I walked to Ethan’s room, the same light accentuating the gray walls and yellow accents in the nursery. My eyes trailed to the rocking chair where Ed was sound asleep with Ethan flat against his bare chest, his tattooed arms covering him like a blanket. I covered my mouth at the overly sweet scene of Ed leaning back flat in the chair so the baby was lying comfortably, his tiny hands in fists on either side of his head. Ed cradled him with one hand across his back and the other over his bottom, Ethan’s head tucked neatly under his jaw, while a half empty bottle of milk was wedged between Ed’s thighs.
I decided to let them sleep, carefully pulling the bottle from between his legs before I tiptoed out of the room toward the kitchen. I smiled at the thought of him taking such good care of Ethan as I washed the bottle.
It wasn’t long before I heard Ethan start to wake up, and I went toward the nursery just in time to see Ed jolt awake, clutching his son to his chest. I walked in with a smile, taking Ethan carefully from him, revealing a reddened patch of skin against the center of his bare chest where the baby had been lying.
”I think you’re trying to kill me,” I told Ed, and he stretched his arms up by his head, his eyes squinting as he did.
”Why’s that?”
”The way you two were sleeping. It was straight out of a Hallmark commercial.”
Ed rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wake up as he smiled, peeling himself out of the rocking chair.
I cradled Ethan comfortably against my left side, Ed leaning over him to plant a soft kiss against my mouth, “I love you,”
”I love you too,” I said, returning the kiss with my hand flat against his jaw. I knew then that we weren’t just okay, we were perfect.
 

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