Summary: From this prompt at the glee_kink_meme. A day in the life of Mommy/baby Faberry.
“What shall we wear today, baby girl?” Rachel mused, taking Quinn’s hand and leading her to Rachel’s own room. Quinn sat on the bed and watched as Rachel started to go through her closet, trying to find an outfit for her. “We need to be comfortable, because Aunt Brittany and Santana are coming over today.” Hearing Quinn mumble, Rachel turned around. “Thumb out, baby, so Mommy can understand you.”
Quinn stopped sucking on her thumb long enough to pronounce, “Purple.”
Rachel considered this, then nodded. “Purple it is,” she said, pulling out Quinn’s favorite purple shirt and pink pants. “Now, let’s get dressed!”
“Mommy, I’m hungry!” Quinn whined.
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Quinn Fabray, you’ve made that quite clear. And I told you that we needed to get you changed first. Now do you want to get dressed, or do you want a spanking?”
“No ‘pank, Mommy!” Quinn exclaimed, baby talk taking over as she grew a little panicked. “Quinn be good, promise!”
“I hope so,” Rachel warned, pulling off Quinn’s pajama top and replacing it with the purple shirt. “Mommy’s hand is tired enough from last night.” She stuck her tongue out at Quinn and kissed her when she giggled.
She rolled her eyes when, before they could go to the kitchen, Quinn had to get several things from the room: her pacifier, her dragon, and her blankie. Rachel and Quinn never went anywhere without those three things, especially since the first time Rachel forgot Quinn’s pacifier there’d been a full-on meltdown that had surprised both of them. With her hair finally pulled up into a ponytail and her toys in her arms, Quinn toddled off to the living room, her thick diaper making walking almost comical. Rachel couldn’t resist lightly slapping her backside and Quinn squealed, darting out of the way.
Quinn parked herself in front of the television and Rachel selected an episode of The Backyardigans she had saved, then felt comfortable enough to leave Quinn alone so she could fix her breakfast. Rachel’s was fruit and toast, which she knew she’d end up sharing with her little girl, and it didn’t take long to get Quinn’s bottle warmed.
Coming back to the living room, Rachel sat on the couch and was delighted when Quinn scrambled up next to her, grabbing at the bottle with her hands.
“’Fank ‘oo, Mommy,” she said, plunging the nipple into her mouth and sucking eagerly before laying down and resting her head in Rachel’s lap. Rachel smiled, eating her own breakfast and gently playing with Quinn’s hair, until the doorbell rang.
“Aunt Brittany’s here, baby!”