#abby as a mom

[chai-berries]

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Tricks and Treats and Lots of Popcorn Balls to Eat (#24)

Halloween Dusk, 6:58 PM, Anderson Home, Dining Room

You’d think your wife loved Trick or Treating more than your kids, the way she’d strategically planned out the route around the neighborhood. You were sitting at the dining table, applying black whiskers to Isaac's face. He was going as a Black Kitty Cat — with an extremely cute and fancy bow tie collar. Abby was balancing your other two — Genevieve was a baby Chick, her favorite animal, and she was happily sitting in Abby’s arms, all ready to go. Elijah was having a bit of an issue with one of his many legs attached to his torso. He was going as a spider that is also a human. Not to be confused with Spider-Man. Something you and Abby had to clarify with Elijah on multiple occasions. You were dressed like a witch that matched Isaac and Elijah’s costumes, while Abby was dressed like a Farmer to match Genny’s.

“There, all done!” You capped the eyeliner pencil, letting Isaac step back and look at himself in the mirror. “Oooh I love it, Mama. Thank you.”

“You are so welcome. Now go get your puffer vest and your bucket, okay?”

It was going to get pretty cold once the sun set, so each of the kids had a puffer vest or shawl that matched their costume.

Once all eight of Elijah’s arms were secured, the group of you started out the door and out onto the streets where kids and families were already milling about. The neighborhood you guys live in is close to the elementary school, thus the neighborhood became the best place for a little kid to trick or treat within the past 20 years or so. Now it’s a perfect set up with the best candy, houses hosting child-friendly games, and even a few of the older folks host a cake walk at the soccer field park. To give the parents and adults some Halloween magic, one older woman makes halloween themed baked goods and fresh coffee and hot cider. Abby was an absolute fiend for her Popcorn Balls, buying one for you and three for her. You both get Butterscotch and Abby gets the rainbow marshmallow one — for gay reasons — and a chocolate drizzled one she treats like it’s a fancy dessert.

The night takes a turn an hour into the walk. By now the kids have a good amount of candy. Elijah has a bit more because some of the houses were for “Big Kids” and Isaac wasn’t ready yet. Genevieve was too busy trying to waddle away from you to care about the candy. You were in the middle of chasing her down someone’s drive away when you heard Isaac start to cry, followed by noises of anger from someone you didn’t expect — Elijah.

You turn the corner onto the sidewalk to see Abby crouched down in front of Isaac who was crying. You run over to them and scan his sad face for any reason for the crying, but see nothing obviously wrong. Then your eyes and ears are both on Elijah, dressed as a spider-human, who is scolding a teenage zombie that was covered in life-like guts. Even though he’s smaller than the teen, the older boy’s face looks embarrassed.

After checking in with Abby, who is successfully calming down Isaac, you walk towards Elijah, Genny still in your arms.

“Elijah?”

He stops talking and turns to you. His angry expression changes to relief, tears of frustration bubbling in his eyes. “Mama! He scared Isaac! He jumped out at us and scared Isaac! He has friends with him too!” You reach out for Elijah, who turns to glare at the boy before running into your body.

You lock eyes with the teenager and raise an eyebrow. He now looks more scared and you don’t know if it’s because of you or whatever Elijah had been saying to him. Or it could be Abby, who is now standing upright and glaring at the boy, just a few feet behind you.

“Is this true?”

“Ye-yes. I-I’m so sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to make the kid cry. I just wanted to spook them, ya know, because it’s Halloween. I’m so sorry.” He seems genuine enough and Isaac doesn’t seem as scared anymore. You still think that Elijah and Abby could stand to simmer down more.

“I understand it’s Halloween, but you are in a neighborhood filled with elementary school kids. Have some sense next time.” You look around and only see older kids walking with their parents. This neighborhood was practically little-kid-only on Halloween.

The teen nods rapidly. “Yeah. I didn’t wanna come but my friend made a bet.”

“Where are your friends now?”

“Probably five blocks over.”

“Good friends you got there.” You give him a wry smile. “Okay, here’s what’s gonna happen. I will accept your apology on behalf of my kid. And I will let you go. However, no more scaring kids dressed like farm animals, okay? Sounds good?”

“Yea-yes.”

“Okay now you better go because I can only hold my wife back for so long,” you nod your head back to Abby who is holding Kitty Cat Isaac in her arms but she somehow looks like a Wolf Soldier with that expression on her face.

The teen locks eyes with Abby and his face drains of color. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to not smirk.

“Yes. Thank you. So sorry!” He says the last part to Isaac and Elijah before running away down the sidewalk. You walk back to Abby and Isaac. You stop in front of her and free your hand holding onto Elijah to smooth Abby’s furrowed brow.

“Easy there, mama bear,” you joke. Her brow softens.

“More like you’re mama bear; standing up for our cubs,” she says and boops your nose. You automatically scrunch it, making Abby laugh.

You blush under her loving eyes. “To be honest, if anyone is Mama Bear it would be Elijah right now,” you look down to Elijah. “I am very proud of you, Eli. You are very brave to stand up for your brother. I’m sure he appreciates it.”

At the mention of himself, Isaac looks down at Elijah. “Thank you, Eli. Momma, can I go down?” Abby lets him down. Once on the ground, Isaac wraps his arms around Elijah in a tight hug.

“Do you guys want to continue?” Abby asks after a moment.

They break away and Elijah grabs one of Isaac’s hands to hold.

“Yes, I am good now!” Isaac confirms. His hand squeezes Elijah’s in excitement. His tears are gone and a smile has replaced them.

You and Abby share a smile between yourselves.

“Okay,” you say. You boost Genevieve higher on your hip. She’d been supporting a concerned frown for her brothers, but fortunately never felt the need to wiggle out of your arms and run off like she did before. “Let’s go get candy!”

Halloween Night, 10:13 PM, Anderson House, Living Room

“Ugh,” Abby groans. “I love Popcorn Balls!”

She takes another large bite out of the popcorn ball, looking like a less dignified Snow White eating the poison apple. Laughter bubbles out of you as you watch her try to catch the loose pieces her mouth misses.

It’s your laughter that must remind Abby that she’s not alone. She turns her head to you and raises an eyebrow.

“What’s so funny?” She asks.

You don’t answer her at first, learning forward to pick off a piece of Popcorn Ball that was sticking to her chin. She had this look on her face that could rival Isaac’s goofy, innocent expressions. Which often features a joyful grin that they just happen to share.

Once her face is clean of a few more pieces, you answer her. “Nothing. You’re just so cute.”

Her confusion makes you laugh again. “I’m cutely funny, not funnily cute and that was your funnily cute laugh. And you just did it again.” Her lips quirk upwards. You know she’s teasing you.

Rolling your eyes, “I am not starting this again with you.” You make a move to get up off the couch and Abby stops you from moving. Now she’s really laughing. Her fingers dig into your sides, tickling you.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I was messing. C’mon, here, where's your Popcorn Ball?” She looks around the couch. You both had settled down on the couch after putting the kids to bed. All three of the kids’ candy buckets are sitting in front of you on the coffee table. It was a yearly ritual that, after you tuck the kids into bed, you and Abby stay up and sort through all the candy.

It’s half because you have picky children and it’s better to give Elijah the Three Musketeers now, than wait for him and his brother to painstakingly trade them. And Isaac really only eats things with peanut butter and chocolate combined. Since Genny doesn’t get candy because she’s 2, when they get non candy treats like color changing pencils that change with heat, or trinkets you can show her that light up or any cute figurines, you put them in her bucket.

Once you guys pick through all the candy, you trade between yourselves the leftovers that the kids don’t like.

“Ya know?” you muse aloud while looking for a piece of chocolate in the leftover pile. “We have some brave kids.”

Abby’s knee nudges yours. “Yeah, we do.”

You find the chocolate bar and tear it open. You break the bar in half and give Abby the other piece, without a second thought.

She says thanks and pops her half in her mouth like a baby bird getting fed. You choke on your piece of chocolate, trying not to die from chocolate while simultaneously laughing at Abby’s face.

The noise makes Abby turn towards you, eyes wide.

You manage to swallow the chocolate without much damage. You reach for your cup to wash down the remnants.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you start laughing again. “Why did you eat the chocolate like that?”

“What?” Abby blinks at you. Then a look of realization grows on her face. “Were you laughing at me and that made you choke?” Abby huffs and rolls her eyes in faux irritation.

You give her a pout. “I’m sorry, my love. You are just so cutely funny. I can’t help it.” You move until you’re able to lean against Abby and curl up against her side. She pointedly looks away, but her lips quirk upwards. And she still wraps her arm around you, like it’s second nature.

Still seeing that she’s going to make you work for it, you cup the side of her face and pull her cheek to your lips. You loudly kiss all over her cheek, exaggerating the smooching noises until Abby starts laughing at the sensation.

“Okay, I forgive you,” She moves her cheek away from you. You watch as her hand come up to cup your own cheek and she pulls your face towards her to kiss you soundly on the mouth. You fight to keep your lips from smiling, kissing Abby back with just as much love.

After a moment or two, you break away. You press a few light kisses to Abby’s face, pointedly on freckles that dust her cheekbone like a constellation.

“Mmm,” Abby preens under your affection the same way she’s done for years that you’ll never get tired of.

“Mm, I love you,” you say against her skin, between kisses.

“I love you too.” Abby tightens her grip on you.

“Mm. I love you more, my cutely funny wife,” you joke.

Abby nods her head stoically. “That’s fucking right.”

“Happy Halloween, baby.”

“Happy Halloween.”

[atomicami]

doing another bfm abby drabble because i said so…inspired by this twitter video (18+ minors DNI)

okay so imagine spending the night with boyfriend’s mom!abby at her house and she decides to use a toy on you for the first time…but not only that, she would also be just a little more dominant with you too.

you’d be sitting on the edge of her bed, in that same exact spot where she ate you out not that long ago without her son knowing, watching her rummage through her bedside drawer and picking out a hot pink wand to use on you.

she’d then approach back to where you were and kneel down in front of you. you’d instantly spread your legs out, revealing your wet pussy to her. you hear the clicking sound of the wand, followed by a buzzing noise, and she immediately places it right over your clit to start you off.

it’d be less than 30 seconds with that wand on your pussy and your legs would already be trembling. you want to close them so bad, but the sensation of the wand feels so good that you just can’t do it. it then becomes more difficult once abby increases the setting. more moans and whines escape from your mouth as you squirm on the edge of the bed.

you hear her call out your name, and you try to focus your attention on her. “do you like it, sweetheart?” she asks, receiving a whiny nod from you in response. abby then begins to vertically rub the wand in between your puffy folds, spreading your arousal all over your pussy as she continues to talk to you. “why don’t you tell me how much you like it? do you like it?”

“y-yeah…”

“how much?”

“a lot…”

“good girl.”

abby increases the setting again, and you start to lose the sense to even form a coherent sentence, now letting out a bunch of babbles and whines to her. the stimulation feels too intense on your clit, giving you the need to grab the wand out of her hands. abby notices and moves the wand away from you, now pressing it harder down onto your clit as punishment. “keep your hands to yourself…” she warns.

you ball your hands up into fists, whining in frustration as you try to hold back. as much as you were trying to resist it, the fact that abby was increasing the pressure bit by bit was making it more difficult for you. “ah, f-fuck…” you whine out, your hands peeking out in between your legs to try to grab at the wand again. once again, abby looks up at you and moves the wand away before giving you a final warning:

“i said keep your hands to yourself, sweetheart…or i might not let you cum at all tonight.”

so yeah anyways…bfm abby supremacy 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

[bunniehrtz]

abby x reader trying to answer their six-years old daughter how babies appear because the baby became interested

this is so silly. just love writing these :((

“but, mama. how? how does the baby get in there?” your daughter asks, looking up at abby confused, poking her stomach. you hear this conversation from the kitchen, your legs already walking you into the room they’re in. “what are you two talking about?” you giggle, bending down on your knees to be level with your eldest daughter, your 8 month belly making it hard to move these days.

“mommy. how did the baby get…” she trails off, pointing at your belly. your eyes widen, your mouth open, trying to come up with a response that wouldn’t scar the poor baby. abby scoffs and you look up at her, shaking your head while waiting for her to say something, anything. she shrugs, biting back a laugh. “uhm, when a mommy and a daddy love each other-” your daughter looks at you, then at abby, then back at you. “but i have a mommy and a mama,” you sigh, your head hanging low to hide your smile. “that’s- that’s true, uhm. you know what? baby’s hungry. are you hungry, too? yeah? i think it’s time for lunch, and then time for a nap,” you stand back up slowly, taking your daughter’s hand and walking to the kitchen.

you sit her up on the chair, setting her lunch on her plate and walk back over to the counter. abby places her hand on your lower back, laughing into the crook of your neck. “how did she even know to ask that?” you ask, covering your face with your hands. abby’s hands snake round to your stomach, holding it gently. “i mean, it was only a matter of time until she got curious,” abby says, looking over her shoulder at your daughter and her half empty plate. “go sit down, mama. i’ll make you and baby something,” abby whispers, kissing your neck softly.

[eightstarr]

visions — abby anderson.

summary: a love letter to trying (or the time when you met your favorite people in the world, an overly stressed med student and her overly adventurous one-year-old, in your apartment's hallway).

notes: constantly suffering from chronic baby fever so this is a present from me to you because i spend way too much time thinking about abby as a mom <3

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・。.・゜✧・. ────

You’re stepping out of the elevator when you suddenly hear it— a series of light thumps on the floor, fast but determined like a tiny little elephant who really has somewhere to be right now. Another step and then you stop clumsily when a flash of golden hair comes rushing past you. You follow the sight with your eyes, tilting your head. A little girl is walking, no, stomping through the hallway. She’s no older than two years old, her thin shining hair in two short braids, blue jean overalls and red socks on her feet. She moves so confidently that you almost don’t think about it, almost have the instinct to look away as if to not accidentally appear nosy, but her tiny stature and wobbly sense of direction keep your attention.

You look around the hallway, expecting surely the sound of the little girl’s parent calling her name (something sweet and pretty and classic, you imagine; it’d suit her). You picture her name being followed by a tired sigh before her patents rush to catch up, maybe rolling their eyes in a way that pretends to be annoyed but unmistakingly holds a million times more affection. A perfect family, a tiny glimpse of a full life somehow existing right in your unimportant building.

The hallway is long and terribly empty. You look back at the little girl who is striding forward in less of a rush now, with no worries, like this is the same route she’s taken for years.

What are you supposed to say to get a kid’s attention when you don’t know their name? What’s something concise, yet nice, yet simple enough to be understood? Babysitting as a teen has prepared you for a lot, just maybe not all of it. It's been a little too long. You linger on it for just a second before spitting out the first thing that comes to mind. “Hi, princess,” It’s a little awkward, but you’re relieved when she immediately stops and spins around, like something about it sounded familiar— could be your sweet tone or the nickname, you’re not sure. The little girl tilts her head to the side, round cheek lightly squished against her shoulder. It's the cutest thing you’ve ever seen and it makes you giggle like a charmed kid. “Where did you come from?” you ask, but before you have the chance to reach her she pouts her lips, as if just now realizing that you’re not who she thought you were. And then she turns her back, like there's no time to waste, to return to her journey with renewed enthusiasm.

In a scarily fast moment, you realize that she’s going for the stairs. It would maybe be a slightly less terrifying idea if that stupid door actually worked— but it doesn't, it broke sometime last May and now it's awfully easy to open, no strength or shove required. Sometimes, if it's windy and quiet enough, you can faintly hear it swing back and forth from your apartment. The little girl reaches a hand out, not intimidated by the tall door more than three times her height. If you weren’t this terrified, you’d find it amazingly admirable. 

You don’t register you’re running until you reach her, don’t register the sound of fast steps behind you or the scream of Rue! or anything else other than the heavy relief on your chest when you lift the baby by her armpits and hold her over your hip against your side. She’s fussing in your arms immediately, upset that she’s being interrupted, especially by a stranger. “I know, I’m sorry, baby. It’s okay, you’re okay,” you coo, though trying to be soothing when your heart is beating this fast is admittedly not the easiest task.

“Rue!” Someone repeats, and this time you do hear it. A woman is running down the hallway, hand coming down to mindlessly drop a tote bag bursting with groceries on the floor by the time she’s in front of you. The little girl reaches out her arms immediately, tiny fists opening and closing furiously and you sigh with relief as you carefully pass her over to the arms of the tall stranger. Her hair is blonde but darker than Rue’s, held back in a braid that looks both pretty and messy, like it was once pristine and then slept on. She’s wearing jeans and a half unbuttoned white shirt, a black tank top underneath. Her chest rises and falls and you notice that yours is no different. Adrenaline is a strange bond to share with a stranger, but it does make things less awkward, knowing you’re both here, feeling the same thing. You meet her expertly focused eyes for just a second before she turns to look at the little girl, searching for anything that could be wrong. “I’m so sorry, sweet girl. You’re okay, right? You’re okay,” the baby flashes a precious, wobbly smile at the sound of her voice, but she’s quickly distracted by the endlessly fascinating rainbow of groceries that lie on the floor. Her tiny head peeks over her mom’s shoulder to observe and it’s like you both can take a more soothing breath now, knowing she’s okay. “Thank you so much,” Abby says. You blink a couple times before you realize that she’s talking to you. “Sorry, I really don’t know how that happened. We were— we just got home from the store and I hadn't even put down all the bags yet and I thought— I was convinced that I shut the door, but…” her rambling drifts off and the stranger takes another breath, reddish embarrassment crawling up her neck.

You understand, suddenly, that she’s not only struggling with the stress of losing and finding her baby, but also the shame of having to face a stranger who might judge her for it. It feels insane to you, to think that she would be forced to prioritize that right now. “Oh, no, it’s okay!” you rush to respond. “I saw her immediately, and you were here in seconds! She wouldn't have gotten any further than that,” your smile is soft, but you speak with enough confidence to be reassuring (babysitting lessons, perhaps), “It was just a scare— don’t be too hard on yourself, please.”

Abby looks disarmed by your answer, her eyebrows raised in surprise. A short moment passes before she nods and smiles back, a small gesture without any less warmth. It’s the most relaxed you’ve seen her so far and it suits her beautifully, enough to make your face feel warm. Her blushing is much less forgiving though, more physically evident on her skin, spread over her cheekbones and the bridge of her pretty nose.

Rue giggles and it distracts you both, her hand waving excitedly at the colorful bird printed on a box of cereal as soon as she spots him. Abby looks at you for a second too long before she clears her throat, joking, “Sorry, she really loves that guy.”

You hum. “He is pretty cool, to be fair.”

Abby tilts her head, copying your sincere tone. “I don’t know, I always thought he’d be kind of a dick in person. He just looks like the type.”

Your startled laugh makes her smirk but she's frustratingly good at hiding it, free hand covering her mouth casually enough that you don’t notice. You look at the grabbing motion of the baby’s hands and pout with sympathy. “She loves him, though. We should probably get him off the floor.”

“Yeah, I should get that— I guess I just ran out with the bag, huh?” Abby huffs. She looks and sounds, physically, a lot less anxious now, less ashamed and more annoyed at herself.

“Would you like some help?”

“That’s okay, I got it,” she’s not sure that she does but she says it anyway, instinctively. Abby tries to lean down and Rue clutches her shirt, pulling enough to communicate that she is not ready to be put down yet. Abby straightens her back quickly enough to communicate that she is not ready to risk getting her any more upset for today. She meets your eyes for just a second. “Well, maybe some help.”

“Sure, just some,” you chuckle. “I’ll get it, don’t worry about it.”

People say that to Abby a lot— don’t worry about it! She hears it from her colleagues when she inevitably asks for the notes from the last class she ran a little late to, from a few of her kinder professors when she’s a day past some assignment’s deadline, from the guy at the grocery store that picks up the packets of M&M bags from the floor when Rue’s curious hands knock them over, from her dad when she asks if he’d be okay with babysitting for just a tiny bit longer. It always makes her stomach turn with guilt, some cases more intense than others, her lips usually pursed as she turns around and takes a breath. This time when you say it, she finds the guilt passing through her with ease, a short visit that makes her shoulders tense before it gets replaced by something else. She believes you, for some reason. Her brain is quiet except for thinking, for once, that there could really be nothing to worry about.

Your hands move casually as you pick everything up, resting on your knees like it’s not uncomfortable, like they might as well be your groceries. The idea is startling. Abby thinks, suddenly, that if someone were to walk into this scene, they wouldn’t read you as a kind stranger. Your ease would hint to something else, a friend, a lover, a picture of a family. Abby finds herself looking at your hands again, brought back to reality only by the slight tug of her hair. Rue plays with her braid distractedly, mumbling to herself about her froot loops friend— except she hasn’t quite learned to pronounce it yet, so it sounds more like oot oops.

Abby chuckles, brushing some of her loose baby hair behind her ears, mumbling back answers to her gibberish to keep her entertained even if Rue doesn’t seem to need it. She’s always endlessly thrilled to just be outside, perhaps the one trait she got from her grandpa rather than her mom. Other than her light snoring.

“She loves you a lot,” you comment, rising from your knees with the bag hanging on your shoulder. You don’t ask and Abby doesn’t think about it—  you just start walking back to her apartment together. “Don’t you, Ru-Ru?” the baby giggles, her head turning to you, blue eyes sparkling. You laugh, “Oh, you like that name. It suits you, Ru-Ru.”

“That’s what my dad calls her,” Abby explains.

“He sounds like a man with taste,” you say. “What do you call her?”

“Princess.”

Your smile is wide and pleased. “That suits her even more, I fear.”

“I think so, too,” Abby agrees, a proud little glimmer in her eyes. She stops in front of her door, B06 engraved in silver. Is it always such a short walk from the elevator? She’s seriously thinking about it until, after realizing in an embarrassing second that she never introduced herself to the person kind enough to chase after her baby, help pick up her groceries and carry them home, Abby suddenly turns to you with widened blue eyes and pretty, reddened cheeks. You forgive her before she even says anything, and forget your traitorous reason before it gets a chance to warn you about how dangerous that thought is. “God, sorry, I never told you my name. I’m—”

“Abby, right?” you smile softly at her surprised face, chuckling before you explain, “One of our neighbors is an old friend of mine and she kinda threw this welcome party for me when I moved in. I promise we weren’t gossiping, but I think someone mentioned you.”

“Oh,” Abby nods casually, brushing it off as if she won’t be spending all night thinking about what your first impression of her might’ve been like. Rue fusses in her arms, a little grunt as she kicks her legs to be put down. “Sorry— I‘ll be right back,” Abby shares a quick look with you and you wave goodbye, not surprised to be missing Rue as soon as she turns around. You watch them walk inside together, a tiny hand waving back at you and making you smile as she excitedly makes her way to her playpen, shrieking bye-bye! Abby places a kiss on top of Rue’s blonde hair and makes her laugh with some noise that you don’t quite catch. She’s comfortable here, walking amongst colorful toys and biology books. She moves like an expert, pulling down her shirt where it rode up somewhere along the way. You make half an effort not to stare, but it’s half more than the effort Abby makes to not let it get to her head. The most confident she’s felt so far, she asks you, “Did that totally innocent welcome party of yours happen, like, two weeks ago? I think I heard some music.”

“It was extremely innocent,” you insist, eyebrows raised teasingly, “And no, sorry, not sure what that was— I moved here like a year ago.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You grace her (or yourself) with a second of silence before you laugh at her awkward expression, the way she brushes a hand over her flushed face and huffs. “Fuck, that’s embarrassing. I’m kinda terrible at keeping up with this type of, uh, social stuff.”

“It’s not embarrassing, I promise. It’s a big world,” you reassure her. “Even bigger when you’re doing a million other stuff.”

You tell her your name and Abby, who is young like you but also highly knowledgeable on little specific human interaction cheat-codes that come with being a mom, nods her head and makes her eyes light up with what seems, to the naive eye, like recognition. “Oh, that’s right!”

You stare for a second before squinting your eyes. “Are you lying to me, Abby from B06?”

Abby grins, wondering when was the last time she found being caught this funny. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve never heard that name in my life.”

You laugh the loudest you have so far and a daydreamed life flashes in Abby’s head— in that big, dramatic way that it does only when you’ve been watching too many rom-coms every night, or when you’re getting too much dating advice from your friend who’s been married since eighteen, or maybe when you fall in love with a pretty stranger who seems to be able to read your mind. It’s an idealized vision of an idealized world, and Abby finds herself being completely okay to clutch it in her fists to keep, because it’s fucking lovely.

“Well, I forgive you,” you tell her, unaware (maybe?) of the chaos that you’ve induced inside of her. “You’re a busy girl.”

Abby tries to think of a good, smooth way to tell you that she could see herself saying your name everyday, placed adoringly after good morning and I miss you. All she comes up with is, “I got enough time to learn it.”

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

You play with the hem of your shirt, pajamas made of mostly Abby’s clothes every night, a scent on them that’s not yours but it might as well be. It’s yours in all the ways that matter, in the same sense that she is. Abby walks out of the bathroom wearing her usual pajamas— a shirt that fits too loose and boxers that are a little too tight around her thighs. She doesn't seem to mind them, and you don’t seem to wanna complain. She knows by the way you look at her. You’re leaning back on your palms, your head tilted, the same shyness and sparkly adoration in your eyes that you’d get when you didn't know each other all that well. It’s not too often that she sees that nervousness anymore, but she still gets glimpses of it, a blink of something on your face or your tone or your breathing that says I have a crush on you and I’m hoping you can’t tell. She likes that nervousness the best right now, the way it’s timid and then settles into something like cockiness when you remember that she’s looking at you just the same, when you remember how much you like the way she copies the tilt of your head and teases you as if she's not also smiling like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world.

Abby loves every moment like this, loves getting home and helping prepare dinner and making Rue laugh before kissing her goodnight, loves doing the dishes with you and flirting and talking about the day. Today, she’s especially looking forward to the latter.

“So, how was it?” she asks, the back of her thighs resting against the dresser. She’s trying to play it cool and she's annoyingly good at it, even now.

“Hm?” you hum, leaning further back to rest on your elbows, your back almost fully touching the bed. Abby feels a little bad keeping you up, but she knows she’ll be tossing and turning all night if she has to wait until the morning to ask.

“The school meeting.”

“Oh,” you smile wide enough to look silly and beautiful, sweet enough to rot teeth. She feels like she could sink in it, your smile and the relief it brings to her well hidden nervousness. “I loved it so much, Abs.”

Abby is smooth when she walks closer, soft when she cups your cheek, but there's something anxious in her eyes if you know where to look. “Yeah?” she insists.

You nod your head and kiss the palm of her hand, your lips pressed together in that funny way of trying to hold back an excited giggle. Abby smiles and feels nostalgic for the time, many many months ago, when she’d bring a finger to her lips to shush you and then remind you in an expert whisper that Rue is sleeping in the other room. She doesn't have to teach you much at all anymore, and every moment that proves that to her feels like the most beautiful, unfamiliar peace.

“I’m so happy,” you announce, looking up at her. You’re tired enough that it feels almost like being drunk, which is maybe why a short giggle manages to escape. Abby finds it contagious, your joy moves through her as naturally and importantly as the pumping of her blood. “I’m so excited for all of it.”

It’s the second parents' meeting that you’ve attended at Rue’s school— but you spent that first one sitting quietly by her side, practically hiding behind her, too aware of yourself and of the fact that you don’t really know what you’re doing. “Nobody knows,” Abby confessed on your way home, a hand on the steering wheel and another over your leg, her fingers tapping a comforting rhythm. “Parenting is beautiful, it just comes a lot less naturally than you’d think. That thing about a biological, primal wisdom or whatever— it’s a nice concept. But the best things I know came from me actively trying.”

Her words echoed in your head when you said yes to attending this school meeting alone, when you smiled and made the effort to look as calm as you could, kissed her cheek and said “of course!”. Being Rue’s parent doesn’t always come naturally, but it comes from the most genuine love, every single time. Of course you can go to her meeting when Abby can’t reschedule work, because of course you want to know about how Rue is doing in school. It’s an honor to be there for her, to speak for her when you know she needs you to. This is you actively trying.

“How were the other parents?” Abby asks, lying on her side now, her finger tracing unreadable patterns on your cheek. She craves physical contact more than she’d like to admit— but it works great, because you never ask her to admit it if she doesn't want to. The pads of her fingers say enough.

“They were cool, they were all very sweet to me. Well, Leo’s mom is a little passive aggressive but she’s that way with everyone,” you comment through a yawn, the side of your face comfortably pressed against your pillow. Abby hums, agreeing. “Sophie’s mom was the nicest, she sat next to me and invited me to join her and Jade’s mom for brunch.”

“Which Sophie?”

“The one that gave Rue a Valentine’s gift, that milk chocolate that she loves.”

“Oh, I like that Sophie.”

“Me too. I think I wouldn't mind joining a weekly brunch cult with her mom.”

Abby laughs in the way that she only does when she’s sleepy, where she sounds almost like her teenage self, shy and sweet. By the time it dies down, you’re almost asleep. But then, softly enough that you almost don’t hear it, she asks, “How do you think you would feel if she called you that?”

You make a questioning little sound that sounds like "what?" but not quite.

“If Rue called you mom.”

Your eyes open in a second, though not without effort. You look at Abby’s face, her pretty, relaxed features, and answer honestly. “I would probably cry. And then kiss her cheeks for as long as she let me.”

Abby chuckles. “Like when she fell off the swing and got the tiniest scratch on her knee?”

“Yeah, just— the joyful version of that, I guess. They would be the happiest tears ever spilled,” you explain, so sincere that Abby almost tells you. And you know her enough to read it on her face, the way she barely parted her lips and then pressed them back together quickly. Your head lifts from the pillow. “Wait, why? She told you something? Did she ask about that?”

Abby is great at keeping it cool, but less so once she’s been caught. Her nervous chuckle says it all. “I…”

“Abby, I swear to god, I will not let you sleep until you tell me.”

She more than believes you, but a flash memory of her pinky finger wrapped around Rue’s holds her back from spilling any more details. “Sorry, baby, I’m not allowed to say.”

“Oh my god,” you drop back onto your pillow, this time lying flat on your back. “You think she’s gonna say it?” you ask, and Abby is unsure if you’re asking her or the ceiling or a godly presence way above it. Or yourself, most likely. “It’s okay if she doesn't, maybe she was just curious. Maybe she needs time. I mean, obviously. She probably won’t say it, like, tomorrow, right?” you turn your head and look at her, so wrapped up in your inner monologue that you don’t process the amusement and adoration that’s all over your girlfriend’s face. “What if I react super weird and she doesn't say it again?”

Abby’s lips stretch into the softest smile, so in love that she almost forgets to answer and instead holds her hand on the back of your neck and pulls you close to press a kiss against your forehead. Your eyebrows are still furrowed worriedly when she pulls away, and she brushes her thumb over your cheek as she lets out the kindest hum, acknowledging your question. “You’re not gonna react weird, sweetheart.”

Momentarily flustered, you shake your head to remember the point that you’d been thinking about. “But I shouldn't cry, imagine how confusing that would be for her— what if she thinks she made me upset?”

“That won’t happen. She cried happy tears when you moved in, remember? She knows what they are,” she says. It’s one of the best memories you have, the nervous look on Abby’s face when she asked you, rambling, “It would be a big change, but not the worst, right? You’d just be a couple doors down the hall. It would be a lot of the same in a lot of ways, just with us.”

After that came the late nights at your apartment, dates hidden behind the excuse of packing, half empty boxes on the floor and Abby stuck to you like glue, a kiss or ten whenever she got too carried away with excitement. A couple weeks later came your clothes in her closet, your favorite blanket on the couch, and Rue’s eyes glimmering with happy tears as she hid her face on your neck and tried to understand her feelings. Then, after a few minutes of patiently rubbing her back, came her little frown of concentration and the way she attentively listened to you and Abby explain that her reaction was normal, that sometimes happiness feels like too much to hold in just a laugh or a dance. “Oh, okay,” she’d said, in this cute proud tone that she gets whenever she learns something new that makes sense to her. It was the sweetest thing. She’s the sweetest thing— and you can’t believe this is your life, that you get to take care of her and hang out and teach her new things to be proud of.

“You think she wants me to be her mom?”

Abby smiles. “You are her mom, baby.”

Rue doesn't say it the next day. You don’t overthink it— couldn't if you tried. It's a nice feeling to be so happy that you don't feel the need to think. She doesn't call you mom that morning, but she runs to the doorway where you’re putting on your shoes to get to work and wraps her arms so tight around your legs that you have to balance yourself with a hand against the wall. Her hair is messy from sleep, her yellow pajama shirt wrinkled, her eyes blinking lazily as she looks up at you and asks, “Back soon?”

“Soon as I can, princess,” you promise, leaning down to kiss her head. What is there to overthink? What more could you possibly need?

You can do this forever, have mornings like this and feel grateful in a way that you didn't know existed until now. You love the way it comes at random times, the way you’re still you, still grumpy when your coffee tastes watery, still a little bad at getting to the train station on time, still learning not to burn the first batch of pancakes. It’s a big change, but not the worst, right? It’s a lot of the same in a lot of ways, except Abby is there at the kitchen kissing your cheek, and a tiny head of blonde hair is peeking from the back of the couch, gummy smile and freckled cheeks, saying, “I like my pancakes like that, mom!”

[abby-splaty]

Some friends and I unleashed the krakens upon a sand festival!

[jtl-fics]

Personally just think that while Kevin & Wymack would be kind of awkward in their whole embracing one another as family that Kevin does not have the same problem with Abby.

Partially because I think it'd be very funny for Wymack to go to Abby's house and walk in to just find Kevin and Abby on the couch drinking mimosas with face masks on watching their compromise show which is The Real Housewives of Exy Players.

[sylvies-chen]

god I just adore how much percy’s attitude in ep 2 is him just like “ok fine dad, so you’re a god. but more importantly, you are a DEADBEAT, and I WILL hold deadbeat absentee fathers accountable”

and him singing his mama’s praises? OOH YES MAMA’S BOY RAISED RIGHT and it is delectable om nom nom nom nom

[niiikooooo]

07// No Hard Feelings

[bl0ssom-skies]

More beast ancients au doodles yayayayay!!

(Au by @cuppajj!!)

[chaoticas-hell]

I have no official evidence but everything in my soul says that Kevin Day is a mama's boy

[chai-berries]

all my friends support palestine and know neil druckmann is a zionist

Pumpkin Patch Aftermath (#25)

If you told Abby that one day she’d be chasing her three children around a pumpkin patch while the love of her life cackles behind her camera lens, she wouldn’t believe you.

But here she is, in the middle of October, trying to wrangle her kids to take a family photo. The youngest, your only daughter, has given up the chase and instead giggles into Abby’s warm neck as Abby boosts her up on her hip. The other two are running in overlapping circles through the pumpkins. It isn’t until Abby lets out a sharp whistle that they stop giggling and turn towards their mom.

“Get over here, now! Or no hot chocolate for either of you. Gen and I will drink it in front of you,” behind Abby’s stern mom-face is a woman who has never denied her kids a delicious cup of hot chocolate when they asked, so the boys knew this was serious. Like two puppies, they run past Abby and Genevieve and towards where you’re standing. Over their heads, you look at Abby. Her stern mom-face is gone, replaced by her loving mom-face as she watches the boys run ahead. She boosts Genevieve higher up on her hip, making the girl’s laugh reach your ears. She then meets your eyes, the adoring look turning into her mom-smile that says “I am so tired but it’s worth it” so well that you let out a laugh, to which she smiles her special smile she gives you when you are happy. You easily recognize the look and feel your cheeks warm. Elijah and Isaac are now standing next to you, looking like two well-behaved boys. When Abby finally reaches you, you’re quick to position everyone back into the previous poses they were in before the impromptu game of tag commenced.

Once everyone is posed, you go ahead and press the timer on the camera, which sits on a tripod you brought for this exact moment. You only get 10 seconds to get back to your family before it takes the photo. For once everyone is smiling with their eyes open and hands at their sides. Abby is still holding Genevieve on her hip, but she adjusted the girl’s clothes and her tiny baby beanie on her tiny baby head. Elijah stands beside Abby, holding Isaac’s hand with a cheesy grin on his face. Isaac’s smile is wobbly but cheerful, his missing front teeth adding a charm to his grin. You stand behind Isaac, who reaches for your outside hand a second or two before the camera snaps the photo. Once done, Isaac, very reluctantly, lets go of your hand so you can grab the camera, tripod, and your bag. Abby takes Elijah’s other hand, aiming to keep all the kids tethered to her in some way as you gather your stuff. When you walk back to them, Gen starts reaching out to you, your parent name falling from her lips as she lets out a long yawn. You grab her and adjust her on your hip, turning to thank Abby when she takes your bag from you to carry. She leans in and pecks your lips quickly. You are startled but grin at her. She winks at you, then turns to the boys.

“Do you want your hot chocolate now? Okay, I want you to stay with us and keep holding hands, please. Okay, let’s go,” she nudges the boys forward to walk in front of you. Staying back in step with you, she wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you closer to her. The two of you, plus sleepy Gen, walk in sync towards the food shed that the farm had set up. Abby gives you another kiss when you stop at the end of the line.

“Do you want something?” She runs her hand up and down your back.

You hum, looking down at the sandwich board. “Can I get a chai latte, small?”

“Of course.” She smiles at you and Gen. “Do you want to go find a seat for us? I’ll stay with the boys.”

You look around and see a few large picnic tables under a tent. The farm had a whole area set up where kids could play while families relaxed under the tents if it rained.

Thankfully, the sky had very few clouds and no chance of rain until tomorrow morning. Abby specifically planned the pumpkin patch outing on this day because of the weather. No way was she dealing with fresh mud caked on the kids’ shoes all over the car and house.

“Yeah, okay,” you lean in to peck her lips again. Tiny moments of PDA were all you allowed yourselves while out with the entire family. If you guys got too lovey-dovey, Elijah took it as a challenge to see what he could get up to before you guys remembered you have children to focus on. One time, before Gen was born, you, Abby, and the boys went mini golfing and while Abby gave you a celebration kiss for getting a hole in one, Elijah managed to run ahead and overlapped two families golfing ahead of you guys. Once you guys realized where he went, he was three holes ahead of you. Thus, the quick pecks are all you get while out and about.

You leave Abby to oversee the two hyper boys who begin excitedly jumping in place as the line moves.

“C’mon, mi amor, let’s go find a seat,” you whisper to Genevieve, pressing a kiss to her head. There’s a brightly painted picnic table next to the pumpkin photo op. You take a seat and slowly adjust Genevieve’s legs around you. She is still awake, her eyes looking around even though her head stays tucked in your neck. You continue to bounce her in your lap, pressing kisses to her face when she whimpers for them.

You must have been spacing out because you startle when Abby’s hand and your chai latte show up in front of your face.

“Thank you, baby,” you say, using your free hand to take a drink from the cup.

“Anytime, sweetness,” Abby responds. She takes the spot next to you, and the boys climb onto the other side to sit across from you. You can tell they’re enjoying their not-so-hot chocolates. Elijah has a whip cream mustache that he acknowledges but doesn’t wipe off, much to the enjoyment of Isaac who has his own mustache made of cream and milk chocolate.

Abby hands him a napkin but doesn’t tell him to wipe the mustache off because she knows it’ll just happen again. Instead she simply nurses her own coffee, a smile on her face as she watches her family enjoy the pleasures of fall.

When the boys finish their hot chocolates and have their faces and hands wiped clean by Abby, you all make your way back to the car. You and Abby trade mom duties. She takes Genevieve from you. The girl’s tuckered out, staying quiet as Abby buckles her into her car seat. You had the job of lining the boys up on the side of the car and helping them get the majority of the mud off their shoes before carefully boosting them into the SUV and into their car seats. Elijah was in a basic booster seat and was now allowed the whole third row of the car to himself. Isaac was still in a more protective booster seat, one with a chest clasp and a neck pillow attached.

You’re about to climb into the passenger seat when Isaac asks for his tiny pumpkin you stuck in your bag. Then Elijah asks for his too.

Abby is still in the doorway of Genevieve’s side of the car, taking her time to adjust the straps on Gen’s car seat like the worried mother she is.

“Abby, can you hand this to Eli?” You pass her Elijah’s pumpkin. Abby takes it without looking and places it in Elijah’s hands. You climb into the car and pass Isaac his pumpkin. Abby finally shuts the back door and walks around the front of the car, patting the hood gently.

You watch her climb into the car. She makes a grunt when she settles. Probably sore from having to chase the kids all over for two hours. Abby starts the car and goes to place her hand on your head seat when she finally makes eye contact with you. The grin and blush that grows on her cheeks match how you feel inside when you look at her, so you lean forward to kiss her. More than a peck, but not ostentatious. When you pull away, you see Abby has her eyes closed. She slowly opens them and beams at you. Snapping back to reality, she continues to back up the car with her hand still clutching your headrest. You indulge yourself unabashedly as you continue to watch her back up, put the car into drive, and smoothly steer with the palm of her left hand. By the time Abby pulls out of the parking lot, her hand has made its way down to your lap to hold your hand. You squeeze it between both of yours and press a kiss to the back of her hand without thinking. You turn to stare out the window at the colorful red and yellow leaves that decorate the trees.

“You okay?” Abby asks you when you stay quiet.

You look at her. She notices your slow blink. “Tired?” She asks.

You hold your index and thumb up, closing the air between them until there’s a sliver left. “A bit.”

Abby laughs at your joke, then hums to herself. You feel her thumb begin to softly run back and forth across your skin.

“How about I put on a Halloween film for the boys and I while you and Genevieve take a nap?” She spares looks to you, to try and watch your face and the road simultaneously.

You nod. “Yeah, that sounds good. You sure you don’t want to take a nap?”

Abby shakes her head. “Nah. I promised to help the boys paint their pumpkins when we get home anyway. It’s okay,” she promises.

“Okay,” you mumble back to her, a nap does sound so appealing. You keep a tight grip on Abby’s hand as you already feel yourself start to drift off.

Abby lets you have her hand until she needs it to pull into the driveway. A gentle nudge on your shoulder wakes you up.

“C’mon baby. Let’s get these kids inside and then you can nap.”

You pout at her, but follow her as she helps Isaac and then Elijah out of the car.

You unclasp Genevieve’s buckles and pick her up to cradle her in your arms. Abby makes sure to take your bag before you think to grab it yourself.

The boys’ shoes are carefully put away and you can already hear them talking excitedly about what they were going to paint on their pumpkins. You go past the living room and into your bedroom with Gen still in your arms. She slowly blinks her eyes at you when you lay her on your bed and start helping her take off her outdoor clothes.

“Hey, baby,” you keep your voice low. “Wanna take a nap with mama?” You place her clothes on the chair next to your bed. Without saying anything, Genevieve climbs over to Abby’s side of the bed and tugs your crocheted blanket up to her chin. You cough out a laugh. She really is your daughter. You change out of your outdoor clothes and into comfy, nap-appropriate clothes that consist of cotton shorts and one of Abby’s old high school shirts. You fill a glass of water in the en-suite and make your way back to the bed, Genevieve already letting out soft snores. Just as you climb under your own blanket, Abby tiptoes into the room.

“Hey,” she greets you, coming up to kiss your head. “I’m just gonna change and then I’ll leave you to your nap.” She brushes her hand over your head, combing your hair back. She presses another kiss to your head. “I love you,” she whispers. She gives you one more kiss then walks to the dresser.

“I love you too,” you tell her when she walks back by on her way to the bathroom.

“I love you more,” she whispers as loud as she can before shutting the door, stopping you from trying to top her declaration.

You are fast asleep by the time she exits the bathroom. She’s wearing one of your tie dye shirts and her favorite Halloween themed pajamas pants. She takes a second to look at you and Genevieve as you sleep. Both of you are laying on your backs, but your heads are turned to face each other. One of Genevive’s hands is wrapped around a few of your fingers. Abby could die right now because of how much her heart burns as she looks at the scene in front of her. And what a way to go that would be.

Abby tiptoes to the door and makes sure to quietly shut it before heading back into the living room where Elijah and Isaac are dealing out what paint they want to use from their paint bucket.

“Is mama and Genny going to join us?” Isaac asks Abby. He grabs a blue tube of paint, then a green one. He then looks up at Abby, his eyes bright.

“No, baby. They’re super sleepy and going to rest for a bit. So we gotta be quiet, okay?” Abby tells him. He nods his head and continues to look at the paint. After a second he turns back to Abby.

“Can we watch Halloweentown now?”

Abby smiles at him and runs her fingers through his hair. “Of course, baby.”

He gives her a big enough grin that she sees where his missing teeth used to be. He starts to hum the theme song before the movie even begins, Elijah joining in when the song actually starts to play.

Abby leans back on the couch. She looks down at the boys kindly sharing paint brushes and tubes of acrylic paint. She thinks of you and Genevieve taking a nap together upstairs.

If you told Abby that one day she’d be sharing a life with you and your three beautiful children, she wouldn’t believe you. But she sure would wish for it.

[atomicami]

comfort crowd

boyfriend’s mom!abby anderson x fem!reader

- summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend for 2 years now, until all of a sudden he starts to act differently around you. one night, you come over to his place to see him, only to discover that he’s out cheating on you with another girl. as a result, you receive comfort from the person you’d least expect—his mother.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, older/milf!abby, age gap (reader is 20, abby is 38), reader is in college, owen (he is mentioned a lot but does not make an appearance), mentions of past teen pregnancy, abby and owen are divorced, infidelity/cheating, reader has her first intimate experience with a woman, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, scissoring, slight edging, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: it’s finally here, sorry this one took me so long…i’ve been a bit nervous to do this pairing but it did win the poll i posted a while back so yeah…i also have to say that this fic took a lot of work and effort for me to write out, so i really hope y’all enjoy it 🤍

You were wishing that your suspicions about your boyfriend weren’t true.

A little over two years ago was when you first met Andrew Anderson-Moore. It was during your senior year of high school and your family had just moved to the city as a result of a job offer that your father had received. Having to start over at a new school was scary for you, but meeting Andrew made that experience a little better.

The two of you connected instantly, and it didn’t take long for you both to start dating and make it official. On your first month anniversary of being together, you two decided to introduce each other to your families. You brought Andrew to meet both of your parents first, and he brought you to meet his dad first before meeting his mom a week later.

Now you’re in your third year of college, still maintaining your loyalty towards him, and you still keep in touch with his parents as well, preferably with his mom, Abigail.

You enjoyed being with Abigail just as much as you did with your boyfriend. She was always so attentive and caring towards you, she treated you as if you were her own. Ever since Andrew had introduced you to her, you’d always make sure to be formal towards her no matter what, even though she could truly care less about it.

“Hi, Ms. Anderson, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell her kindly, removing yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace to shake her hand.

She flashes a smile back at you as she shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart, there’s no need to be so formal though,” she tells you.

“Oh I’m sorry, Abigail—“

“Abby.” She corrects you. “Abby is just fine.”

You simply nod at her in response.

“Alright then, Abby.”

After dinner had passed that day, and you were bringing all the dishes to the sink to wash them, you ended up overhearing Abby say this to her son:

“Make sure you treat her well, Andrew. She’s a sweet girl, definitely a keeper.”

Even though you figured that Abby would be nothing more to you than your boyfriend’s mother, the way she said that to Andrew made you feel unusual inside…But you figured that you were feeling that way simply because it was just a genuine compliment from her.…right?

Since that day, you’ve been close with Abby since then, and Andrew has managed to treat you like royalty.

That is…until a couple of weeks ago when he arrived back from a guy’s trip with his father. You began to take note of the suspicious behavior he’s been having towards you lately. The way he’d hide his phone when he’s around you, how he’d avoid eye contact with you when you ask him about things, and how he’d leave every so often without telling you. It eventually got to the point where you needed to go and address it to him.

And that’s how you got here right now: sitting in your car in the driveway of his mom’s house on a gloomy Saturday night.

You muster up the courage to grab your bag and exit your car before locking it and walking the few steps over to the front door. After taking a deep breath, you step forward and knock on the door. Hoping it would be him answering the door, you’re quick to see Abby answer it instead. “Hey sweetheart,” she says to you. “What are you doing here so late?”

You look up to see Abby looking down at you with a soft smile. She was still in her scrubs with her white coat in her other hand, and with a bunch of little blonde flyaways sticking out of her hair. It looked like she had just gotten back from her shift at the hospital.

“Oh, Ms. Anderson…I was wondering if Andrew was here, by any chance? I need to talk to him about something.” you ask her, praying the answer would be what you’d expect it to be.

Abby let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart…Owen dropped him off this morning and he left the house right before I was about to leave for work. I honestly thought he’d be spending the day with you today.”

Although Andrew was an adult now, he still managed to make visits between his mom and dad. Abby and Owen have been divorced for years now, but at the very beginning, they were once dating as high school sweethearts. It wasn’t until Abby had gotten pregnant from him during her senior year, and as a result, he’d figured the best and most traditional way was for them to get married after graduation.

Things were good for the couple so far…until one day, shortly after Andrew’s first birthday, Abby had gotten home early from school only to find her husband in bed with another woman, which instantly led to them getting divorced with joint custody of their son. She felt like she should’ve been hurt and heartbroken about that, but for some reason she just…didn’t. It was almost as if she was falling out of love with Owen anyway, and his cheating was just the sign for her to divorce him.

Even though Abby was the victim in that situation, she didn’t want to tell Andrew about it so as to not damage his relationship with his father. Instead, she made sure to raise him to be a loyal, trustworthy man, just so he wouldn’t end up turning out to be just like his father.

She raised him to make sure that he wouldn’t end up hurting you.

You let out a sigh, looking over at your car before back at her. “Alright, um, I’ll just head out, then…”

As you were about to leave, you felt Abby’s hand gently grab your shoulder, causing you to turn around. “Hold on, um…would you like to come inside? I can’t have you driving around in this awful weather, maybe you can just wait for him in the meantime, yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment, but to be fair, Abby did have a point. It’s been storming so much these days, and based on the few drops you felt land on your shoulder, it seemed like it was going to happen again tonight.

You give Abby a nod, accepting her offer. She steps over to the side, clearing the way for you to enter inside before closing the door behind you.

“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Abby offers, gesturing you towards her couch. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and order some takeout if you’d like? I uh, don’t plan on doing anything tonight…” she continues, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

You nod back at her and set your bag down on the couch before sitting yourself down. “That’s alright with me…Thanks again, Ms. Anderson.”

“Abby, sweetheart,” she replies, correcting you.

“Right, thank you, Abby.”

You watch as she turns around and heads upstairs to her room. Once the shower turns on, you can’t help but get a feeling of deja vu passing through you, remembering that certain day like it was yesterday.

Now, the thought of being with a woman never really crossed your mind, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but find Abby to be so…attractive. You assumed it was just a silly little crush and set it aside because there was no way that Abby would see you as anything more than her son’s girlfriend.

But it wasn’t until about a month ago, that you decided to spend the night at Andrew’s place. It was around 1 am, and you had left Andrew’s bedroom to use the bathroom. As you were just about to go in, you couldn’t help but peek into Abby’s room as you were passing by.

The door of her bathroom was creaked open, the shower was currently running, and while Abby was undressing herself from her scrubs, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixed on her figure. Her back, her arms, her hands…you were feeling so attracted to her, to where a wave of arousal was hitting you instantly. You were getting so turned on by her in the way that you should be feeling towards her son instead.

Your gaze kept lingering on her, but once you noticed her blue eyes locking with yours, you quickly rushed back to Andrew’s room. This led you to have to wake up your boyfriend just to have sex with him, all with the sinful thoughts of his mother on your mind.

And even though neither you nor Abby brought up that incident the next morning, she had a strong feeling that those sounds that you were making that night were meant for her.

The sound of thunder startles you. You look out the window to see that it has already begun pouring outside. You were definitely going to be here for a while now, but you didn’t mind it. Abby always provided good company to you anyway.

You watch as the rain keeps pattering down, hitting the glass of the window. Your hand feels the vibration of your phone followed by a chime, causing you to look down at your screen and check the notification you just received.

Abby shuts off the water in the shower once she’s finished, making sure to keep it quick so as to not leave you waiting for so long. She then quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants before shutting off the lights and leaving her bedroom.

As Abby began to head downstairs, she could hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the living room. It sounded like you were crying. This led to her rushing even quicker now to the living room, walking in to see you quietly crying, your dimly lit phone in one hand while your face was buried in the other, collecting all of your tears.

Concerned, she slowly began to approach you. “Hey, hey sweetheart…what’s the matter?” she asks calmly, sitting down next to you on the couch and placing a hand on your shoulder.

All you could do was shake your head in response. You were so choked up on your tears that you couldn’t even speak. You felt Abby get closer to you, trying to take a look at what was on your phone. You quickly hid it away from her, but it was too late. She had already caught a glimpse of the familiar figure that was on the screen.

Her hand makes contact with yours, trying to get ahold of your phone. “Let me see,” she tells you in a commanding, yet gentle tone.

You couldn’t help but give in, slowly loosening your grip on your phone, now letting her have it in her possession. Once the phone was in her hands she took a closer look at the screen, eyes widening in shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what was seeing right now.

It was a picture of Andrew, her son, out at a party, with his lips attached to another girl’s, that clearly wasn’t his girlfriend.

Abby was just as shocked as you were. But she wasn’t just shocked. She was enraged, enraged at the fact that her own son had gone behind your back and hurt you like this. You were the sweetest, kindest soul she’d ever met, how could he, or anyone manage to break your heart with no remorse whatsoever?

Along with that, Abby couldn’t help but feel disappointed either. She spent the past twenty years raising her son to not be a cheat like his father was. But at that moment, after seeing that photo and the state you are in right now, she felt like she failed as a mother.

At that moment, she wanted to make things right.

Not only that…she wanted to make you forget about her son and make up for how he treated you.

Abby sets your phone down and reaches for her own that was on the coffee table. You try to stop her from doing so, knowing that she is going to call her son right now. “I-I tried calling h-him,” you choked out, grabbing at her forearms. “H-He didn’t respond.”

Abby gently shakes your hands away from her arms and grabs her phone before quickly unlocking it. “He’ll respond to me, sweetheart, trust me,” she tells you sternly, getting up from the couch and making her way back upstairs to her room before closing the door.

She was definitely right about that. It didn’t take long for you to hear the muffled shouting coming out of Abby’s room. Even through the thick walls of her house, you could hear her clear as day:

“Andrew, what the hell were you thinking?! Your girlfriend is here in my house, worried sick about you and you’re at a fucking party cheating on her with another girl?! I didn’t raise you to be like this. If you wanna keep this act up, then go stay with your father, Andrew. I don’t want you coming back here until I say otherwise.”

Despite that Abby was in your defense about this, you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. You honestly wished you hadn’t come here in the first place. Even though it was storming harshly outside, you felt like the best thing was to just go home. This was the last place you wanted to be at right now.

Once Abby had finished talking on the phone, she then went back downstairs to the living room, only to see you heading towards the front door to leave. She quickly stops you before your hand grabs the doorknob. “Hey, where are you going? I told you it’s too dangerous for you to drive out there right now.”

You ignore her and make the effort to push her away and get to the door, but her strong figure wouldn’t budge at all. “I-I need to go, Ms. Anderson, I can’t—“ Your words get cut off as Abby begins to wrap her arms around you, enclosing your surroundings into a hug.

You couldn’t help but give in to her embrace, burying your face into her chest and sobbing into it, instantly staining the soft cotton of her shirt with your tears. The way you were acting right now was hurting Abby inside. It hurt her to know that her son was the one that caused your heart to break into a million pieces, especially knowing how much you loved him. She was willing to do anything right now to take that pain away from you.

“Listen, sweetheart…” She says, slightly pulling away to get a look at you. “I told Andrew to stay at Owen’s in the meantime, okay? You don’t have to worry about him coming here.” she takes another deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t raise my son to be like this, sweetheart…I’m sorry.”

You look up at her and shake your head in response. “I-It’s okay, Ms. Anderson, it’s not your fault…”

The warmth from one of her hands reaches your face, wiping the tears off of your cheeks “I’d like you to stay here for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out in that storm and getting hurt…I can’t afford to lose what my son couldn’t keep.”

It was clear that Abby didn’t mean for that last sentence to slip, and she didn’t notice that she was thinking out loud until she saw your eyes widen in shock. You couldn’t help but wonder if Abby was having those same feelings towards you as well…

Your gaze shifts away for a second, and you quickly wipe the rest of your tears before looking back up at her. “As much as I’d like to, Ms. Anderson…I really don’t want to be here right now…Everything here just reminds me of him…”

You notice Abby hesitate for a moment. “Do you, uh, want to go to my room instead? Will that help?” she says, practically trying not to sound desperate. She resisted the need to beg for it, but if that was convincing enough for you to stay with her, she would be on her knees in an instant.

“Yeah…That would be a lot better, actually…”

Abby’s arm moves down to the small of your back before keeping you close to her side as you follow her upstairs to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Before you go in, you couldn’t help but turn your head at the room you had just passed—Andrew’s bedroom. You were already thinking about having to eventually go in there and take your things out of his room. The thought of it was already making you sick.

Abby places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to get slightly startled before looking up at her. “You know you don’t have to go in there yet, right?” she assures you, squeezing your shoulder. “I can even get your things out of his room if you need me to.”

You simply nod and smile back at her as a silent ‘thank you’ before turning the knob of her bedroom and letting yourself in.

Upon entering, you realize how much Abby’s room differs from her son’s. Her room was painted in a shade of light blue, her bed was neatly made just as she had it in the morning. On your left, there was her dresser followed by some weights next to it, and on your right was the entrance to her bathroom. That same bathroom you had peeked into not that long ago.

“Your room is nice,” you tell her, your eyes still fixed on your surroundings. “Definitely a lot nicer than Andrew’s.”

Abby lets out a chuckle from behind. “Yeah, I know, he’s always been so unorganized.” she then hesitates for a moment before continuing. “However, there’s always been something in his room that mine doesn’t have…”

You slowly turn around to face her, noticing her starting to approach you. “What’s that?”

She stops in her tracks once she’s in front of you, gently placing her hand on your chin and lifting it up so you can see her.

“…you.”

A smile crept up on your face in reaction to her words. “Is that so? Well…”

You pause for a moment, looking at your surroundings before looking back up at her and leaning in, just close enough to where your lips were just inches away from hers.

“I like it better here anyway,” you whisper back to her.

And with that, Abby gives in and seals your words with a kiss, and you just can’t help but kiss her back. The both of you knew that this was wrong, Abby was your boyfriend’s mother for Christ’s sake.

But if it’s such a bad thing, why did it feel so good for the two of you?

You feel Abby’s hand in front of you, slightly pushing you back so you can sit down on her bed. Once you land on her bed, she drops down to her knees to your height, still maintaining her lips with yours before pulling them away momentarily to strip you down.

Her hands first meet with the hem of your shirt, gently tugging it upwards to get it off. You bring your hands up as she fully discards you from your shirt and toss it to the ground. As she now works on getting your jeans off, you unhook your bra and slowly remove it before tossing it next to your shirt.

Abby looks up for a moment, only for her gaze to linger at the mere sight of your topless self. “My god…” she says in awe, moving both of her hands to your tits. “You look so beautiful…I can’t believe he gets to see this…gets to touch this…”

With her hands still cupping your tits, she leans in to kiss one of them, causing a moan to escape from your mouth. One of her hands moves back to the button of your jeans, and she instantly gets them undone with just a single hand. Her mouth is soon off of your nipple followed by her other hand, now hardened just from the contact of her lips and fingers. You were easily getting so turned on by her, and she knew it.

However, now that your jeans were gone and your underwear was shifted to the side, you couldn’t help but stop her once she was about to dive in between your legs. “W-Wait…” you said, gently pushing her head away from your soaked cunt.

Abby paused her movements immediately, pulling her head away and looking up at you. “What? What is it?” she asks with some slight concern in her voice.

You hesitate for a moment. You genuinely don’t know how you’re going to be able to confess this to her.

“You, um…you don’t have to do it, i-if you don’t want to—“

“But I want to,” she replied firmly, instantly cutting off the rest of your words. “Do you not want me to?”

You shake your head quickly in response. “N-No, I do, I really do, I just thought—“

“Thought what? What did you think?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

It didn’t take long for Abby to get the message. She knew why you were being so hesitant about this. To her, it felt like she was one step away from finally being able to not only taste you but to give you the pleasure that you deserved. But to you, you couldn’t help but simply feel like a burden to her, just like how it was with her son.

“Wait a minute…Has Andrew not been doing this to you?”

Your gaze drifts off to the side, and she takes your lack of eye contact as a yes to her question.

Each of her hands was on your knees, and you could feel her tighten her grip on them a bit, but not to the point where it would hurt you. And even though you were looking away from her, you could see her shake her head in disbelief from the corner of your eye.

“I can’t believe him…” she mutters to herself with a sigh. “He really is just like his father.”

The warmth of her hand makes contact with the side of your face, tilting it back forward to face her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart…please let me make up for my son’s actions…let me give you the pleasure that you deserve. Will you let me do that? Please?”

You hesitate once again. The thought of having Abby give you even the slightest bit of pleasure felt overwhelming to you, but the fact that she was quite literally on her knees begging to do it to you turned you on even more. If anything, Abby was being more desperate than you were right now.

So you give in this time.

“Y-yes…” you whisper out quietly to her. “Go ahead…”

And with that, Abby’s hands meet together at the waistband of your underwear, fully pulling them down and off of your legs before spreading them even farther than before.

Her lips gently brush over your sensitive clit to kiss it, and the sudden contact causes you to involuntarily jerk back. You didn’t mean to do it, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched before, that even the slightest touch on your pussy already makes you feel overstimulated.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby coos, gently squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to her face. “I’ve got you, just lie back and relax for me, sweetheart, okay? Nice and slow…”

You try your best to keep your cool right now, and even Abby tries to as well. It’s clearly taking everything in her to not just quickly dive into your pussy and devour you alive. But she knows how long it’s been for you. She knows that your body hasn’t been worshipped the way that it should be.

“God….you taste so good…sweetest little thing I’ve ever had…” she murmurs into your pussy, slowly increasing the speed of her fingers.

You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the sight of Abby right now. Andrew was never willing to even put his mouth near your pussy, while his mother here was on her knees eating you like a woman starved.

“Mmmh, g-go faster, please…” you quietly whine out to her, grinding your hips against both of her thick fingers that were inside you.

You didn’t need to say anything else for Abby to instantly obey your command. Her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy even faster than before. They were going in so deep to the point where the tip of her middle finger easily tapped into your g spot, and you absolutely loved it.

Before you knew it, Abby’s fingers and mouth were going at an extremely rapid pace inside you, so fast to the point where you were gripping onto the edge of the bed to hold yourself down.

That feeling was quickly building up inside you now, you were going to cum at any moment. However, something about that feeling felt unusual to you. It was almost as if you needed to stop what she was doing to you.

So you do. You try to warn her, even grab at her wrist to slow down.

“A-Abby, wait—oh God—fuck!”

As much as you tried, you couldn’t warn her in time. Your body had already done its deed, your pussy uncontrollably squirting into her mouth and on her fingers as you reached your peak. The rest of your body felt limp, and your brain was feeling slightly fuzzy from your orgasm.

You felt Abby shift around in between your legs to stand back up, which led you to muster up the energy to sit up on the bed. Your eyes widen at the mess you’ve just created. Everything—Abby’s face, her clothes, her sheets, your legs—was all soaked with your release.

You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it, quickly closing up your legs and bringing your knees to your face. “A-Abby, I’m so sorry I—I didn’t mean to do that…I tried to—“

“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart…Don’t feel bad…” she murmurs out to you, gently caressing your face with one hand while bringing both of your knees back down with the other. “Did it feel good?”

You nod slowly as she looks back down at you. “Yes, it did…Better than—”

“Better than him, right?”

“Yeah. Better than him.”

A smile flashes on Abby’s face as she leans in to kiss your lips, letting you taste a bit of yourself in the process. “Then you shouldn’t be sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you as she pulls away. “Lie down on the back of the bed, princess. I'm not done with you just yet.”

You simply oblige, sitting yourself up and scooting to the back of her bed, lying your head down on top of her pillows that were stacked in front of the headboard. You watch as Abby wipes her face and licks her fingers clean before stripping herself out of her clothes. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but admire her broad, muscular figure. And it wasn't just her figure, it was just everything about her. Her bright blue eyes, her freckled skin, her luscious blond hair…You just felt so mesmerized by her. You felt an attraction to her that just couldn’t compete with Andrew at all.

Your eyes follow her movements as she leans down over her bottom bedside drawer and opens it for a moment before shaking her head and closing it. It didn’t take much for you to be able to see the strap she owned, alongside the few other toys she had in there.

The weight of the bed soon shifts down as she hovers herself over you. “Are you…are you not gonna fuck me?” you ask her quietly.

Abby nods her head as she adjusts the pillows on the back of your head to make you feel more comfortable. “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, just not with those,” she says as she shifts back and begins to position herself in between your legs. “I'm gonna fuck you in a way that no man, not even my own son, could ever do with you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, eager to find out how she’s going to do this. However, you didn’t know what to do about it either. “Wait, but how do I—”

“You don’t have to do anything, okay princess? All you have to do is just look pretty for me while I do the work. Lie back and relax for me, just like before, yeah?”

You nod again, resting your upper body back on the bed as Abby continues to maneuver herself over you. She lifts up one of your legs and places it over her shoulder, and then brings her free hand down to her pussy and spreads her lips open with two of her fingers. You could easily see that she was just as wet as you were right now.

She then places her wet pussy on top of yours and you easily gasp at the newfound feeling of it. The way her lips molded perfectly against yours, along with how her arousal was practically dripping on top of your tight hole had you reeling.

“Oh fuck,” Abby mutters out, further pressing herself down on top of you. “Your pussy feels even better against me like this.”

Abby begins to grind her pussy against yours, causing you to moan over the friction. You understand that Abby wants to take her time with you right now, but God was she being so painfully slow with this. You were desperately craving for some more friction already, but you felt too shy to tell her. So you end up weakly grinding your hips instead.

“Whoa there,” Abby says, placing a hand on your hip to keep you steady. “Looks like someone’s eager for more…You want me to go faster, princess? Is that what you want?”

“Y-Yes, p-please Abby…g-go faster…” you whine out to her, continuing to grind against her pussy.

“Needy girl…” she mutters as she increases her pace. “Not even a minute with my pussy and she already wants more…I bet it feels better than any cock you’ve ever had, hm?”

All you could do at this point was babble and whine in response. The feeling of Abby’s wet cunt against yours was getting you easily drunk. You look down and watch Abby place a thumb on your hood, lifting it to expose your throbbing clit to her. She then placed her clit right on top of yours before grinding even faster than before.

The sudden overstimulation caused your eyes to flutter themselves shut and your head to tilt back in pleasure against the stack of pillows behind you. Your body soon starts to feel limp again and the familiar fuzziness in your brain soon returns again. At this point, Abby was practically using your pussy to get herself off. But as long as you kept feeling the delicious friction of her clit rubbing against yours, you didn’t mind at all.

Abby suddenly tightens her grip on your leg, leading you to open your eyes and look back at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration with her gaze fixed on both pussies. You could hear her quietly whimpering to herself while the muscles in her abdomen were contracting and tensing up as she kept quickly grinding herself against your pussy.

At first, you couldn’t tell what she was trying to do with herself. But it didn’t take you too long to realize why her body was doing these things.

Abby was waiting for you to cum first.

You were at a loss for words at the moment. Andrew never cared about that. He would always be done the second he’d finish, meanwhile, Abby was sacrificing her own pleasure just to make you cum a second time.

“A-Are you close, sweetheart?” Abby moans out to you, keeping her hands firm against you as she continues to rub her pussy onto yours.

“Y-Yes, fuck—” you whimper back as you begin to quickly grind your hips against hers. “D-don't stop, Abby…m’so close…”

At this point, the noises that the two of you were making right now were borderline pornographic. Between your moans and whines with Abby’s grunts, along with the wet squelching sound of both of your pussies rubbing against one another, it's honestly surprising how you haven’t woken up the neighbors by now.

“Fuck, Abby—'m gonna cum, fuck!” you tell her as you grip the bedsheets while continuing to rub your clit with hers.

Within seconds, your pussy began to quickly clench around Abby’s while instantly cumming right on top of it. Once Abby felt that you were emptied out, she soon let her body relax before cumming onto your pussy as well with a broken moan.

Once the both of you have recovered from each other's climaxes, Abby presses a soft kiss to your ankle before gently getting your leg off of her shoulder and setting it back down.

Feeling drunk from your orgasm, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, hardly feeling the movements of Abby cleaning you up and tucking you into a fresh set of sheets. Your eyes open back up again once Abby has her arm wrapped around you from behind. “Abby, that was…that felt amazing..” you whisper out to her.

Abby lets out a chuckle before gently kissing the back of your shoulder. “I’m glad I could make up for it, sweetheart,” she whispers back to you.

You turn your head around for a moment to face her. “Are you sure I can spend the night here with you?” you ask her shyly.

Abby smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before responding. “Of course you can, sweetheart…you know I told him not to come back,” she reassures you, gently caressing the side of your face with her hand. “You’re in good hands with me, I promise.”

You smile at her before turning back around and pressing yourself closer to her as she keeps you tightly wrapped in her embrace. The security that Abby was giving you right now was more than enough to make you instantly drift off to sleep, secretly wishing that the night that you’d spent with your boyfriend’s mother could now last a lifetime.

And little did you know, Abby was also wishing the same thing too.

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[sunflower-eddiediaz]

#who needs a spine anyway #do me next

#ok maybe not

[anna-scribbles]

LIVE NOW : vote for your slayest faves & ugliest enemies. voting ends 12/31/22 at 11:59pm EST. let your voice be heard! 

[littlebabyyd0ll]

KINKTOBER DAY FIVE, FIRST TIME PARENTS

After your daughter’s very first birthday, you and Steve admire the life that you’ve made for yourselves together.

Dad!Steve Harrington x Mom!reader

Warnings: Not much, talk of birth and Steve’s horrible parents. Talk of being young parents. Reader is described to have long hair.

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist ! Kinktober 2023

It’s quiet. 

Too quiet. There hasn’t been a moment like this since Laila was born, a whole year ago. To the day. You spent Halloween night last year with a scrunched up, sweating face and pushing with all your might. One good thing comes with having a child born on an evening of festivities — birthday parties. Yours and Steve’s home comes alive on her birthday, with people celebrating and bringing their own little ones, everyone dressed up as characters from books or TV shows. Yourself and Steve had dressed as Leia and Han, with Laila snuggled down in an ewok onesie. Steve had insisted on you dressing up as her namesake – since you had refused to name your actual daughter leia. Steve, in his ever loving and altruistic glory, had let you have your way. It’s not very often that Steve doesn't bend over backwards to make you happy, and he’s come so far to the teenage douchebag that tried to hook up with you at a halloween party in your Junior year. 

You look up at your husband now, tucked up in his chest as he stares over the bars of your daughter’s crib, and you’ve never seen something more beautiful, so peaceful. You admire him as he admires the creation that you made together. His hair is falling from the hours of wear on the spray, half of the luscious locks covering his forehead. His white shirt is untucked from his blue jeans, Han’s signature belt discarded somewhere. Your own outfit is a mess too, crinkled up, a stain from Layla’s throw-up hours earlier resting on your shoulders, hair let down from the signature buns. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as you stare up at your lover, your height difference even more prominent without your party shoes on. He’s so soft, so soft despite everything he’s been through, despite the scars lining his back, despite the viscous words from his asshole father, despite the way that everyone believed that he would grow into nothing – probably spend the rest of his life at Family Video after he chose not to pursue college. He’s so kind, so caring, so loving. The man has nothing but love in his heart for you, for the baby that lies peacefully asleep. 

He doted on you desperately while you were pregnant, and has been the same ever since Layla arrived. 

He dotes on you now, without realising it. One of his large hands stokes down the length of your hair. The other warms the curve of your waist, and his heartbeat is enough to settle your own. Though it beats much faster every time you look at him. 

“We have a one year old.” He acknowledges lowly, in those voices that you use to try not to wake her. Still, he speaks like he can’t believe it, and neither can you. The time has flown by so quick. 

You hum in reply, pushing your face a little deeper into his chest. You can’t wait to give him his dream, provide a family of Harringtons that love and adore one another. Harringtons that support each others dreams and aspirations, that believe in one another despite all else. You can’t wait until that next positive test, to give him another baby, to see him flourish in the same way that he does with Layla, being her father. He’s perfect. 

“She looks more and more like you every day.” It's not strictly true, because Layla most definitely looks more like Steve, with her button nose and dark brown irises, she only really has your hair. But still, you entertain his notion. 

“She’s the prettiest little girl in the world.” 

Finally, he looks down at you. His hand is still moving against your hair, and he tucks some away behind your ear. His lips curl upwards at the way you look up at him, the same way that you looked at him when he very first saved you from the Demogorgon. It’s a look that says you’d never accept another fate, never breathe in a universe that doesn't have him in it, and where he isn't yours to keep. You look at him like he hung the moon and stars, with your chin against his beating chest. He would never trade anything for this – for his girls. 

“You’re my girl.” He murmurs before dropping a kiss on your lips, then to your forehead. “My two girls. Given me the best life I could’ve ever asked for, you know that?” He gets sentimental a lot, but it still pulls at your heartstrings and has your eyes filling with tears. He places his hands on each of your rosy cheeks, thumbs swiping at the tears that fall. Because, suddenly, you've realised that you're the luckiest girl in the world. Perfect husband. Perfect daughter. “You're the best thing that ever happened to me. Made my dreams come true.”

“I love you,” You croak between tears, and you wish that your motherly hormones would give you a days rest. 

Steve presses his lips to yours once more, before tucking you back into his chest. He releases a heavy sigh as you both look down into the crib. “I love you so much. I love you both more than anything in the world.”

And in the moment of silence that follows, you thank your lucky stars that they gifted you with such devout love, and the most handsome boy in Hawkins.

[gethighdropacidneverdie]

Wait they are on too something chat