#and the three kids would love their new little baby sibling so much they would protect them with their lives

[ohitslen]

OKAY VASHWOOD KIDS ON THE HEAD THIS AFTERNOON HHNNG

While I do think that them having kids of their own is super cute and such a nice thing for them both, I am personally a Vash and Wolfwood adopting children truther. Best part is it was Not Even On Purpose.

The times are less aggressive, their lives are less violent (compared to before) and they are both a lot more free. They aren’t used to living a settled life, in spite of finally having a little home of their own at the outskirts of December.

They still travel around without an aim or clear purpose most often than not. They would visit old friends and the times they decided to stay in a place for a bit longer would either be at Home or the Hopeland Orphanage.

They like it that way. It’s familiar and they don’t have to watch for their heads as much as they did before. They are finally experiencing a much more gentler life of their own.

I imagine them stumbling with some kids, let’s say three, that live on their own in one of their trips. They offer to bring them to the Hopeland Orphanage like they usually do to orphaned kids, so they can live more peacefully. They accept after some more convincing.

During that trip they get to live a bit more closely with the children compared to the way they do with the kids back at the orphanage. They love them oh they do, with all their heart, but the closeness they experience with everyone at the orphanage is more of a caretaker sort of approach and nothing as intimate as taking care of them so personally.

The bumpy trip basically obligated them to be more close to the kids, spending nights and days with them, protecting them from danger, cooking meals for their little group of five, spending a few days in different towns to unwind and buy more resources. It was nice, traveling together like that (even if it did get a little dangerous every now and then when they stumbled upon a fight or two).

The kids start to get very attached to them, and both Vash and Wolfwood admittedly were feeling the same way too. They knew they couldn’t keep the kids, not with their wanderers life style and the danger that was still always present (not as terrible as before, but trouble would always be a part of them as it seemed).

Once they got to December to finally leave the kids at the Orphanage, they decide it’s a good time for them to have one of their long stays at the orphanage until their next trip. All of the kids love them both, and they return the sentiment as well. However, it’s evident how their closeness was bigger with the kids they just traveled around with. They knew a bit more about each other with more precision, they were a bit more affectionate with them, the kids would look for Wolfwood and Vash so they could spend more time together. It wasn’t rare for the kids to go and sleep with either of them at night or taking naps with them, but those three particular children would always sleep with them, all snuggled up and warm in their embrace.

It was nice, it almost felt like a little family of their own. Wolfwood remembers how nice it was to live in the orphanage with the other kids, and Vash loved his time with Rem and Knives when they were little, not to mention the people at Home later on, but neither of them really had a grasp of something in their lives they could call wholly theirs, something stable, something constant.

Their stay at the orphanage lasted from their usual month and a half to two months, and then three, until they thought it was a good time for some time of their own back at their little house (living with so many kids always around the corner didn’t provide much space for privacy, much less now that the three kids would follow them as if they were their shadows).

The kids were disappointed and a little sad that their time to leave had come already, even if they had stayed longer than what they usually did this time. Their three little kids were the ones that looked the most anguished from them all, and neither Nick or Vash missed that detail.

When they arrived to their home, they cleaned first, the dust had settled in their house and they could barely move without gusts of it coming to invade their lungs. After they quickly got rid of the most they could they finally got to rest and get some alone time of their own.

The days passed, and the quiet time between them was appreciated, but it felt a bit too quiet. They had quickly grown used to the noise that came with being around the kids in that short time. Maybe it was thanks to the fact that their lives were much kinder now, but something inside of them itched at the thought of not having the kids by their side, of not being together.

They knew what it was after sparing it a second to think of it a bit more.

“You know, I think it would be nice if we stay in here for a bit longer” Vash said out of the blue one day while they were making breakfast together, a soft and genuine smile hanging on his face.

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing” Wolfwood answered back with a smile of his own, focused at chopping a portion of vegetables a bit too big for two people, it was probably enough to feed five mouths perhaps.

[skeltnwrites]

At Least It’s Not the End of the World ♡

After protecting the kids from demodogs and sentient tunnel vines with Steve, a weekend babysitting Holly Wheeler together is supposed to be simple. That is until feelings neither of you expected start to make things way more complicated.

gn!reader, takes place in between seasons two and three, people who fight monsters together to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff 16k

── .✦

It doesn’t take long to remember why Holly is your favorite Wheeler. She’s patient and sweet, amazingly level-headed for a preschooler, and her manners could put some adults to shame. Compared to her siblings, Holly’s a little sweetheart. And a mama’s girl through and through, clinging to Mrs. Wheeler more often than not. 

Like now, she wriggles in her mom’s lap, scrunched over a coloring book at the dinner table. She squints at her box of crayons and purses her lips— choosing colors is hard when you’re five. She hasn’t said a peep since you arrived, but in the foyer, she greeted you with a clumsy wave and a sheepish smile. 

“It would be Friday afternoon to Monday morning,” Mrs. Wheeler explains, stirring a glass of lemonade with a curly straw. “I’d ask Nance but she’s having a girl's weekend.” 

You glance at Steve. You know girl’s weekend is code for spending the night with Jonathan Byers. But if he knows it too, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t so much as bat an eye at her words. In fact, he’s relaxed under Mrs. Wheeler’s gaze. He’s sitting in a chair he’s sat in dozens of times before, talking to a woman he sees more frequently than his own mother. 

You don’t know her as well as he does, but you aren’t strangers by any means. 

“And Mike, well, he’s not old enough to watch her for that long. But he’ll be staying over at Joyce’s so you don’t have to worry about him,” she pauses to sip her drink. “I’d pay you, of course. I don’t know what your schedules look like— I know you’re probably busy with the new job, Steve— but I figured since it’s a few days, I’d offer it to you both.” 

Steve flashes an honest smile and leans forward. “Are you kidding? I’d hang with this squirt for free. I’m actually off this weekend so it works out.” 

Mrs. Wheeler beams, eyes springing to yours. 

“Yeah, I could help too,” you shrug. You also happen to be free this weekend and the extra cash would be nice. 

“Great! You both are so lovely. Oh, I was so worried, I kept telling Ted– well, it doesn’t matter now.” Her bracelets clink and clash as she reaches across the table to cover your hand with hers. “You’ll have to keep an eye on these two. She becomes quite the riot when her Stevie comes over.” 

Steve chuckles and raises his hands in defense. “She owes me a rematch at Candyland so I can’t promise anything.” 

Mrs. Wheeler’s fingers retract from yours, landing on the end of Holly’s pigtail. “She’s really missed having you over. Asks about you still.” 

Holly ducks her nose into her paper, pink traveling up her ears. 

“Is that right?” Steve teases. “I’ll have to swing by more often.” 

“Please. You’re welcome anytime, Steve. Whether Nancy’s here or not.” Her attention drifts to you. “And the same goes for you. Mike won’t stop talking about that comic book you gave him.” 

A smug grin surfaces. Out of all of the kids, Mike is a tough one to please. 

“I’ve never been away from Holly for so long. But I trust you guys.” Mrs. Wheeler pecks Holly’s crown to hide a wobbly smile, her sentence spilling out in a breathy string of words.

She really does trust you both. It would take another set of hands to count the number of times either you or Steve had driven her kids home safely. This is just different. She loves all of her kids equally, but Holly’s her baby. 

Holly’s eyes cast up at her mention, bright as a sunlit gem. 

Mrs. Wheeler smooths her daughter’s sleeves down her shoulders. “But Holly’s a good girl. Right, Hollybear?” 

She turns to bury a toothy smile in her mother’s shirt. 

Mrs. Wheeler is meticulous as she presents each and every detail of Holly’s routine. From car seat safety to emergency contacts to allergies, she covers every question you might have before you have it. 

Steve’s a good listener but he’s cursed with a very short attention span. Mrs. Wheeler lost him somewhere around Holly’s sudden aversion to mac and cheese, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You’ll fill in the gaps for him later. 

This won’t be the first time you’ve babysat with Steve. Dustin roped you both into hunting his pet lizard-turned-alien which very quickly escalated to protecting four children from not one, but several, vicious aliens. Safe to say you two are experienced enough to handle one kid for a couple of nights. 

You haven’t seen Steve much since then. It’s summer now. The demodogs and sentient tunnel vines feel much more like a dream than something that actually happened to you these days. Steve works at the Scoops in Starcourt, or so you’ve heard several times– Dustin only reminds you about every time you see him. But despite being as close to death as you’ve ever been beside Steve, visiting him at work feels strangely wrong. Like crossing a line that neither of you ever drew. 

You would not consider Steve Harrington your friend. You’re friendly, as you might be with a neighbor or coworker, but you don’t talk much outside of ​​world-ending, portal-to-another-dimension kind of events. He’s family in a weird sort of way, bound by the shared trauma and unspoken loyalty— like someone you only see at family reunions, familiar enough to care about but still a stranger in most ways. High school was a long blur and your circle of friends couldn’t have been farther from his. So you don’t know Steve, not really. But of what little pieces of him you have come to know in the last year, he’s not half bad at babysitting.

ᯓ★

On Friday afternoon, you park your car beside Steve’s shiny BMW in the Wheeler’s driveway. You take the house key that had been slipped from Mrs. Wheeler’s key ring to yours and unlock the front door. And you find that inside, it’s completely silent. Holly’s quiet as a mouse but she’s still a kid and kids make noise. 

Your bag drops onto the floor beside Steve’s shoes as you toe off your own. When the kitchen and living room turn up empty you jog upstairs. Alarm sinks in on the last step where you still hear nothing. No shouting, no laughing, no crying, no nothing. 

There’s a large window in the hall upstairs, dividing Nancy’s room from Mike's and Holly’s. In your panic, you miss the suspicious lumps in the drapes that frame it. 

As you brush by, Steve rips the curtain across the rod and shouts, “Ha! Gotch– Oh.” 

Your entire body jerks, fear cinching every nerve. “Christ! Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry!” 

Your nostrils flare with hot air as you shove him, “You scared me!” 

His open palms hover in between your chests, unsure how to help. “I thought you were Holly. Sorry.” He gives you an apologetic once-over before a breathy chuckle escapes. 

“It’s not funny. All the shit we’ve been through. God.” He’s lucky you didn’t punch him. A part of you still wants to. 

“Mommy says that’s not a nice word,” Holly says from behind you. 

You turn, shoulders sagging in relief. “I didn’t mean to say that. Sorry.” 

“Stevie, I was supposed to find you,” she whines incredulously, hands planted on her hips. 

“We can go again. I’ll find a new spot.” 

Her frown mends as quickly as it appeared and she skips back to her room to count. 

“Sorry,” Steve reminds you. “Help me find a spot to hide?” 

Soft eyes, a softer smile. It’s hard to stay mad when he looks at you like that. “Okay.” 

Twenty seconds isn’t very long to hide. Especially when Holly counts as fast as she does and when you spend half of your time standing in the hall. So you end up crouched in the corner of Mike’s closet, Steve arched over you, trying his hardest not to crush your toes. 

“Jesus. Does this kid even wash his clothes?” Steve whisper-shouts. “It smells like something died in here.” His palm snaps to the wall behind your head, the flesh of his arm warming your ear.

“You actually couldn’t have picked a worse place. Oh my God.” You press the neckline of your shirt over your nose. Steve’s wearing enough cologne to drown out the stench of dirty socks, though it’s choking you all the same. 

“We had like three seconds. I panicked!” 

You’re glaring at him but only a fraction of light filters in from underneath the door so you’d guess he doesn't see. 

The closet is the first place Holly checks when she barges into Mike’s room, but you’ve never been happier to be caught so fast. 

“My turn!” She glows in victory, pigtails swishing like yellow ribbons as she shouts. 

Steve huffs. “Let’s take a break. We’ve been playing for like an hour.” 

“Can we play tag?”

“In a little while. I’m tired.” He pinches her neck playfully until she squirms out of reach. “How’d you have all that energy?”

She shrugs with her whole body. “I dunno. I’m a kid.” 

A laugh bubbles out of your throat. When your eyes flit to Steve you find him already smiling at you. 

“What about something a little more chill,” you suggest. “We could color?” 

“Bracelets?” 

“You want to make some?” 

She nods, “I can’t reach them. The beads are on top of my closet.”  

“I’ll get ‘em,” Steve offers. “Come show me where.” 

You fan out her multitude of craft containers across the kitchen table. Beads, charms, strings, all neatly filed away. She pops open a lid and plunks down across from you. Steve takes the seat at the end in between. 

“What color bracelet are you gonna make?” you ask, raking through the rainbow of options. 

“Umm, yellow. No– green!” 

“Nice. Here’s a cute little frog charm. Want that?” 

“Mmmm. No, thank you.” 

“I’ll take it,” Steve says, stretching his hand toward you. 

You drop it in the center of his palm where it clinks against a handful of blue beads. They’re pretty and vibrant like the sea. A flicker of an idea pulls you to grab your own handful. 

Holly slides four beads onto a string, two lime green and two baby pink. She drags the other end up and they all slip off, bouncing in separate directions across the table. You smack one before it dives onto the floor and Steve catches another two mid-air. 

“Can you help me tie it?” Holly asks from under her chair, searching for the fourth. 

“Sure.” Steve swaps his bracelet for hers, triple knotting one end. “I like these colors.”

She resurfaces with a grin, voice lilting as she speaks, “Do you like purple?”

“Yeah, purple’s okay. Do you?” 

She nods, pinching a lilac gem and examining it. 

You slip into a peaceful rhythm. The bead bin rattles as Steve digs his fingers in. He murmurs something about sparkles as he shuffles. Every now and then, you peek up at him. And each time, you find that he’s fully absorbed in this, rubbing his chin or poking his tongue out in concentration. You’d even bet he’s having fun. 

“Can you tie it on me,” Holly asks when she finishes. 

Steve takes her hand gently, fingers engulfing her tinier ones. “This good?” He tugs the strings across each other at her permission, sealing it with an extra knot for good measure.  

Holly starts a second one as you finish your first. You hold it up triumphantly for them to see– red and blue beads between every white pearl. 

“Very patriotic,” Steve teases. 

“It’s for you. For scoops. These are the colors right?” 

He softens, eyes rounding like brown buttons. “Wait, really? Thank you. Wow.” He inspects it fondly where you release it in his palm. “Will you tie it?” His arm shoots over to your side of the table. 

You feel his gaze shift from the bracelet to your face as you lace it. And you pretend that it doesn’t make your cheeks burn. 

“You don’t have to wear it to Scoops if you don’t want to,” you mumble, releasing his wrist. 

“What? Of course, I’m wearing it. No one’s ever made me a bracelet before.” 

Your lips bend up into your cheeks as he leans back in his seat. He twists and turns his arm, looking it over again with a similar expression. “Now, it was supposed to be a surprise, but since I’m almost done, I actually made this for you.” He scoops up the piece he’s been working on and waves it in front of you. 

You cock an eyebrow and smirk. “You sure you didn’t just decide that since I gave you one.” 

“I didn’t! I was planning this the whole time! Right Holly, didn’t I say that?”

“No?” 

“Holly, come on now.” He elbows her arm. “Supposed to back me up.” 

“But you didn’t,” she giggles. 

“Holly doesn’t lie, Steve.” 

“Okay, I didn’t say it. But I thought it. I was gonna give it to you I swear.” He jams another couple of beads on his string. “See! Look, it has your favorite color on there.” 

“It has every color on there.” 

“One of which is your favorite.” 

You roll your eyes as he takes your wrist. His hands are warmer than yours, softer than you expect too. He stills as your palm flips face up. A jagged, fleshy ridge runs from the bottom of your pinky to the meat of your thumb. Steve was there when you got the scar. He’s never said it, but you know he blames himself for it. A demodog had you pinned in that damned junkyard school bus so Steve pushed you out of the way but you caught yourself on a broken window. 

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

His head dips in a silent nod. He isn’t sure whether to believe you or not. Either way, he feels sorry still.

His bracelet is a statement piece for sure. It truly has every color under the sun and a random assortment of charms and shells. But it’s sweet that he gave it to you. Even if he totally did not plan to do so at first. 

He makes a second bracelet for Holly with purple string and butterfly pendants. Holly gives her next one to him as thanks, then begins on a third for you. 

Steve stands from the table. “I’m hungry. Grilled cheese okay for dinner Holly?” She nods as do you when he asks you the same. 

Your focus drifts between him and the necklace you’re starting for Holly. He coasts around the kitchen naturally, like you imagine he would in his own house. But it’s a bizarre sight. Steve Harrington cooking you food, in the Wheeler’s kitchen out of all places. 

And he’s about as good as a chef as you expect him to be. He’s clumsy and uncertain, even dropping a spatula on the floor with an, “Oh, shi–ugar…” But he kindly refuses to accept any help or advice when you offer. 

He eventually swings around the kitchen island, brimming with pride, one plate in each hand. They’re set in the space you’ve cleared and you quickly see that the sandwiches have been cut adorably into stars. You just as quickly see– and smell– how burnt they are. They aren’t black, they’re edible for sure. But Holly’s five, and polite as she is, most kids would never willingly eat this. 

So you aren’t surprised when she looks at it in disgust, borderline horror. 

“Look, it’s a star,” Steve beams, oblivious. 

Your chest aches with the desire to laugh and an equal pang of sympathy. 

Holly shakes her head, visibly toning down her expression for his sake. “Can I have something else?” 

“It’s good! I promise, just try it.” 

She slowly shakes no again. 

“Steve,” a peel of laughter escapes your lips. “It’s burnt.” 

He scoffs. “It’s not that burnt.” 

Your mouth twitches in a funny little line and your eyes leap between him and the plate. “It’s pretty burnt, Steve.” 

After a moment of silence, he sighs and picks both plates back up. 

“Wait,” you shout, “I’ll still eat mine! Mine isn’t that bad. You did a good job!” 

He sulks at you. “You’re just saying that. I’ll make new ones.” 

“No, it’s okay, really. I’ll eat this one. I don’t mind.” 

He plants the plate in your grabby hands and spins back toward the stove. 

Round two is much better, still star-shaped, and a few shades lighter. Holly thanks him more than once while eating it without you even asking her to. If only Nancy and Mike were as precious as her. And Steve eats the first attempt, now cold, and admits that it tastes, “slightly burnt.” 

You take the empty plates to the sink to wash while Steve and Holly lug the jewelry kits back upstairs. You meet them in Holly’s room after. They’re playing house, Steve the dad, and Holly the mom, with four babydolls for children. She appoints you to be the neighbor when you join. 

You knock on her bedpost, pretending it’s her front door. “Holly, in one hour you’re gonna take a bath.”

Her head pops out from under the blanket. “Can we watch a movie before bed?” 

“Sure, but we have to do bath now if you wanna watch the whole thing.” 

“Okay!” She kicks the sheets away, jumping off the bed in a race to the bathroom. Steve winces as she steps on his hand. 

“Do you need help?” he asks, sprawled across the bed, socked feet hanging over the edge. 

“No, I got it. You can rest in peace now,” you joke, halfway through the door. 

Holly is self-sufficient enough to bathe herself so all you have to do is supervise. You find a matching polka dot set of pajamas in her dresser and a towel under the bathroom sink. And she gets dry and dressed all by herself, Miss Independent. 

“So there’s The Little Mermaid, E.T., Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory…” Steve trails off, kneeling in front of the entertainment center. 

Holly hands him a VHS tape, “This one?” 

“Ooh, good pick.” Steve feeds the tape into the player and rewinds it. 

You pat the couch cushion beside yours as Holly skips over. Steve hits the light before flopping into the recliner with a satisfied groan. The Jungle Book glows to life on the TV, casting an indigo wash over each of your faces. Holly curls into herself, knees tucked to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them.

“Here,” Steve chucks a blanket from the basket at his side. 

“Thanks.” You scoop it off the floor where it missed the couch and billow it out over you and Holly. “Don’t fall asleep, Harrington.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve folds one leg over the other and crosses his arms, eyes glued to the screen. He reminds you of Mr. Wheeler sitting in his recliner like that. It’s alarming how attractive you find it. He’s not even doing anything worth staring at. You force your eyes back on the TV. 

The credits scroll up the screen for a whole minute before you realize the movie has ended. You aren’t asleep but you aren’t totally awake either. Steve’s not far off by the looks of it and Holly, on the other hand, was out like a light halfway through. Her head presses into your upper arm, her hand scrunched in the blanket on your thigh. The weight is nice, making it all the harder to pick yourself up and get her to bed. 

But thankfully Steve’s there to help. He twists in his chair until his back clicks, smiling when he catches sight of you and Holly. “I’ll carry her up,” he whispers. 

You gently work Holly’s stubborn fingers from the blanket as Steve stands. He pushes the rest of the fabric into your lap before bending to scoop Holly up. 

“Be right back,” he says, starting toward the stairs. 

You tug the blanket higher, seeking lost comfort in its folds, though it doesn’t compare to the warmth Holly provided. 

Steve pads back down not a minute later. He stops on the last step, hanging over the railing. “You awake?” 

“Barely,” you mumble. 

Steve plods up to the front door to check the locks. He orbits into the kitchen and then back around to the living room to turn the TV off. He’s being the responsible one. You aren’t sure why this surprises you. 

“Come on,” he opens his hand toward you. 

Your arm snakes out from under the blanket, and he lifts you effortlessly. You’ve seen how strong he is, how he fights, but it still surprises you. 

“I was gonna suggest another movie but I don’t think either of us’ll make it.” 

You catch a yawn from Steve. “I know. I’m so tired. It’s not even late.” 

He hums from behind you on the stairs. “Yeah. Who knew this’d be so exhausting.” He’s only being slightly sarcastic. There’s an obvious truth to what he implied, but at the same time, it is so much harder than you realized it would be. 

You stop at the landing, sluggishly turning to face Steve. “Well, goodnight, I guess.” 

“Goodnight.” 

You splinter into opposite ends of the hall. Steve let you have Nancy’s room for obvious reasons, though he wasn’t thrilled about crashing in Mike’s bed. He’s probably better off on the couch after seeing the kid’s closet. 

You change into cozier clothes and untuck Nancy’s quilt. Like with Steve, you and Nancy aren’t really friends. It’s strange being in her room, settling into her bed. And it’s almost stranger that Steve is sleeping across the hall. Yet, there’s an odd comfort in it— being surrounded by people who went through the same thing you did. 

ᯓ★

There’s thumping in the hall– footsteps, too light to be Steve’s. You fight the urge to go back to sleep. Holly needs a babysitter. But it’s not an easy feat, not when you’re swaddled like a baby in blankets much softer than the ones you have at home. You’re warm and it’s so quiet it feels like a gift; that is, until you remind yourself that kids and quiet don’t usually go hand and hand. She could be answering the door to a stranger, scaling the counters, setting the kitchen on fire, the possibilities are endless. 

You force your heavy eyes open and flinch as a much brighter pair come into focus. 

Holly bends over you with this innocent endearment you cannot possibly be mad to be woken by. “Told you, Stevie,” she says. 

“No, you woke ‘em up, goofball.” Steve lingers at the foot of the bed in a pair of striped pajama pants and a faded Olympics tee. You’ve never seen him in pajamas before, or anything quite like it. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows and rub your eyes for a better look. 

“Sorry,” he supplies. His voice is still raspy with sleep and his oh-so-perfect hair shoots up in wild peaks. The sight makes your chest buzz. “She said you had to get up to.” 

You redirect your attention to Holly, pinching the neckline of your shirt back over your shoulder as you sit up. 

“Can we have eggs?” she asks you. 

“Sure.” 

She traps her lip between her two frontmost baby teeth. “Five?” 

“Five eggs!” Steve chides. “Just for you?” 

She turns to nod at him, smile blooming. 

He wears the same joy, ruffling her already unruly bed-head. “What are you a linebacker?” 

She giggles, clueless as to what he’s talking about. 

“Let’s start with two and if you’re still hungry you can have more,” you compromise. 

You are undeniably a better cook than Steve, but the bar is low after yesterday. You serve scrambled eggs and unburnt toast. Holly looks at her plate like she hasn’t been fed a day in her life and she shovels spoonfuls of it in her mouth like it’s her last meal. 

Steve watches her with an anxious frown. “Smaller bites, Holl.” 

She nods but doesn’t exactly slow her pace. Steve chases your eyes, knocking your ankle with his when you don’t look. He gives you that funny face parents make. Help me out. 

You shrug. “It’s just eggs. Babies eat eggs.” 

He cycles through several emotions—frustration that you won’t back him up, disbelief that babies eat eggs, and a lingering fear that she might choke. But he stops himself from asking all the what-ifs, he trusts you. 

Holly swallows half of her glass of chocolate milk in one go. Steve looks mildly horrified. 

“My God. She’s like a little human vacuum,” he mumbles through a mouthful of toast. 

You snort into your glass. If Holly heard him, she’s too preoccupied to care. 

After breakfast, Steve sets her up in front of the TV to watch cartoons while you clear the table. He disappears into the basement in search of a board game but comes back with some deflated, plastic thing. 

“What happened to the board game?” you ask. “What even is that?” 

“It’s a kiddie pool. Let’s go outside. It’s nice out.” 

“I didn’t bring a bathing suit.” 

“Me neither. Just wear that.” 

You wrinkle your nose down at your pajamas. “Go see if she wants to.” 

He smiles, retreating back into the living room. Shortly after, he shouts, “She said yes!” Footsteps pound up the stairs, followed by a second shout, “Don’t run!” 

Mrs. Wheeler calls the house phone and is pleased to hear your good report. She reminds you several times to apply sunscreen to Holly’s ears and that there’s an extra can in the upstairs bathroom. You wrangle Holly over to put her on and promise to call back before bedtime when she refuses to hang up. 

You sift through your bag, changing into the closest thing to swimwear. Steve takes forever in the bathroom, which doesn’t surprise you one bit. He comes out in a crisp white tee, way too expensive-looking for a pool day, and a pair of red gym shorts. 

“What are you, the lifeguard?” you joke. 

His hands snap to his hips. “Uhh, I’ll have you know I’ve been a certified lifeguard for two years, so yeah, actually.” 

You roll your eyes, brushing past him for the extra can of sunscreen. “Are you ready? Holly’s waiting.” 

“Yeah. Let me go blow up the pool. I’ll be outside.” 

You fix your hair in the mirror and tuck a few towels under your arm before heading downstairs. Holly’s already outside, criss-crossed in a big lawn chair and watching Steve with incredible boredom. He stands barefoot in the grass, the deflated pool pressed against his chest. He pulls away from the air valve when he notices you, quickly capping it with his thumb. 

“You okay?” you ask, laughing lightly. 

He nods, red-cheeked and breathless. “Think there’s a hole in it. Been blowin’ for like five minutes.” 

“Huh,” you drop the towels and take one end of the limp plastic. “Try again.” 

He funnels more air inside, it dispurses evenly underneath your palm. You don’t hear any air wheezing out so you turn it over for further inspection. 

“Oh, Steve. Here, look.” 

He pops his mouth off and follows your pointer finger. A second valve at the bottom, unhinged and releasing his hard work steadily. 

“Oh, you’re kidding me. Why’d they put one under there?”

You shrug, plugging it back up. “Holly, let’s get some sunscreen on so your mom doesn’t kill us.” 

Holly hops off the chair and skips to your side. You mist her skin in several layers, lathering a generous amount over her ears. When you move onto yourself, she grabs her basket of toys and climbs into the dry inflatable. Steve retrieves the hose and releases a cool stream into the pool, splashing Holly’s feet.

She squeals and scoots back. “Cold!” 

Steve’s thumb eclipses the opening so the water bursts out in wide a fan. He trains it at Holly, spraying her until she’s soaked and screaming. 

He’s giggling in a way you’ve never heard. Genuine, open-mouthed reels of laughter. You hate to admit it, but it’s really cute. So infectious you can’t help but join. 

He glances back for your reaction, pleasantly satisfied. And your smile incites a great idea. He swings the hose around, aiming it straight at you. 

“Steve!” Your arms shoot out to block the attack but it’s no use. 

“What?” he says, the epitome of innocence. 

Your eyes narrow but a smirk prevails. “Oh, you–” 

Holly tackles the back of his thigh with a scream. Steve stumbles forward and the hose slips from his grasp. 

You lunge for it before he even realizes what happened. And by the time he does, he’s already drenched. “Payback!” You laugh maniacally as he combs his hair out of his eyes. 

He’s laughing too, bent at the waist, still shaking his surprise. But only until he catches your gaze– then comes the glint of something playful, almost daring.

Steve barrels straight through the spray like a bull. He chokes your fingers over the nozzle, bending and bending the line until the water pours straight down your head. 

Holly dashes behind you to wrangle the wiggly tail of the hose, squealing at every layer of mist she catches. 

You and Steve wrestle with it, his hand on your hip, yours pushing his shoulder. He’s gentle but still strong. And his touch sears through the cold water, your skin tingling in his wake. 

The second he sticks the end down the back of your shirt you scream. “Okay, okay! I surrender!” 

He crimps the hose with one hand, smirking deviously. 

“I surrender,” you repeat, heaving through your laughter. 

Holly drops her end of the hose, backing up one slow step at a time. 

“Truce?” 

“Truce,” you nod, stepping up cautiously to shake his hand. 

He accepts your hand, using it to yank you closer and blast you again. You chase and dodge and tackle each other under the blazing sun until your legs feel like jelly. But the game eventually slows as exhaustion creeps in. 

You and Steve collapse in the lawn chairs while Holly lays belly-down in the pool. Water sloshes over the rim onto your toes as she kicks, a brief reprieve from the sticky heat. You're relaxed, but your mind wanders. You keep hoping the Wheelers won’t notice the sudden increase in their water bill. 

“Dustin talks about you all the time.”

You tear your eyes away from Holly, blinking back into reality as you face Steve. “What?”

“Dustin, he talks about you all the time. Kid loves you.” 

“Oh. He’s a sweet kid. Talks about you too. Keeps telling me to come see you at Scoops.”

Steve chuckles, more of a half-hearted puff of amusement than a real one. 

“Which, I’m sorry I haven’t, by the way,” you confess. 

His eyebrows jump, lips parting in soft surprise. “Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. He’s just being Dustin.” 

You press a blade of grass flat under your heel, as if the right words might sprout from the dirt. “I dunno. I mean, don’t you think it’s kinda weird that we don’t like talk? After everything?” 

The words bounce around Steve’s head for a minute. He fixates on your choice of weird. Weird, like bad? Weird like you want to talk? He can’t decide. And he’s afraid if he opens his mouth, the wrong words will tumble out. 

But he tries anyway, “Honestly, I thought you didn’t want to be friends. You were just so… distant after.” 

You rub the length of your arm, lips creasing into a frown. “Sorry, I was just. I don’t even know. Rattled, I guess.” 

“Yeah, rabid dogs with faces that split open and try to eat you tend to have that effect.” 

Your frown melts, little by little. 

“But we should’ve been there for you more. It was a hard time for everybody.” 

His apology echoes in your mind, the ache like a weight on your chest. 

“You could visit if you wanted to. At scoops. I could get you ice cream for free.” 

But the ache doesn’t stand a chance against the way he makes you feel. 

“Okay.” Your cheeks round with a sincere smile. “I’d like that.” 

He turns his head, as if to hide, but you still catch an echo of your own expression. Your eyes flicker across the contours of his profile, following the graceful line from his ear to his collar, before drifting over the sculpted shape of his arms and the long expanse of his thighs. Steve Harrington is objectively attractive. This isn’t the first time you’ve thought so. But it is the first time that fact makes your head spin. 

Maybe it’s the heat. The sun feels like it's roasting you alive, and Steve’s attractiveness certainly isn't helping. You’re feeling strange, thinking crazy things– the kind of thoughts that only come when you’re on the verge of heat stroke certainly. 

You stand abruptly and the grass sways underneath your feet. But you get your bearings before anyone notices. “Holly, can I come sit in the pool?”

Her eyes pop up, grin distorted underneath the water. She props her elbow up and rests her cheek in the palm of her hand. “What’s the password?”

“Umm, can you give me a hint?” 

A high-pitched hum. “Okay. She’s my favorite character.” 

“Uhh, Barbie?” 

“Nooo.” 

“Strawberry Shortcake?”

“Nooo.” 

“Hello Kitty?” 

“You’re really bad at this,” she giggles. It would be really cute if you weren’t possibly dying right now. 

“It’s Care Bears,” Steve interjects, snapping his fingers. “Uhh, the yellow one. Umm, Funshine!” 

“Yes!” Holly glows like the sun on Funshine herself. “Stevie can come in.”

Steve stands but he doesn’t get in. “Come on, Holl. It’s hot.”

“There’s a new password.”

“Okay, okay. Can I have another hint?” you ask. 

Her tongue curls out to lick the sweat off her lip. “My favorite color.” 

“Purple?” 

“Yes,” she nods and sits up. “But I really like yellow and blue and pink too.” 

You sink into the water, unsure if there was ever a wrong answer. It’s shallow and lukewarm, barely grazing the tops of your thighs, but it’s enough to cool the sun off your skin. Steve follows, and the space tightens awkwardly— the inflatable wasn’t built for three. His knee brushes yours while Holly’s toes nudge your foot, but neither of them seems to mind. 

You cup water up to your cheeks and pour it down your arms. 

“Better?” Steve asks, a droll little pinch to his features. 

He’s staring at you which is definitely not helping but you nod anyway. 

“Why don’t we move to the shade?” He stands before you or Holly agrees, offering his hand to pull you up. 

She races Steve to the nearest tree, though he doesn't stand much of a chance dragging the pool behind him. He refills it with fresh water and encourages Holly to splash you gently while he runs inside to make lunch. By the time he returns, you’re feeling much more yourself. 

“Bon Appétit,” Steve announces, lowering himself slowly onto a towel. He carries three animal-shaped plates stocked with fruit and PB&Js, one in each hand, another balanced on his forearm. 

Holly scrambles out of the water, plopping onto the other end of his towel. You get out too, shaking a second one out to lay beside theirs. 

“Lion or hippo?” he asks Holly. 

She hums for a long time, inspecting each plate meticulously before pointing to the lion.

“Good choice.” He sets the plate in front of her crossed legs and passes you the hippo. Steve takes the polar bear for himself, which notably only has half a sandwich. 

“Where’s the other half?” you ask. 

He takes a large bite, pressing his hand to his mouth to reply, “Ran out of bread.” 

“Here.” You rip one of your halves in half. 

“Thanks,” he says, syllables tangling as he chews. 

Holly watches the interaction fondly before pulling apart her own sandwich. It splits in a jagged line, mostly crust on one half. But happily, she thrusts the bigger piece toward Steve, jelly dribbling down her little fist. 

He tilts his head, a growing smile mirroring yours. “You eat it. I have enough now.” 

She crinkles her nose. “You eat it!” 

“No, you!” He squeezes her slim bicep. “You need to get big and strong.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’m already big and strong.” 

She considers this, giving him an obvious once-over that makes you laugh. “Trade?” 

“Okay, trade.” Steve chuckles, exchanging one of his halves for hers. He licks a stripe across his knuckle where her sticky fingers brushed his. It’s as innocent as the gesture can be but something about it has your cheeks burning in a way the sun couldn’t. 

Conversation tapers off, replaced with an easy quiet. Your stomach is satisfied with the food, but it’s your heart that feels the most nourished, steeped in the comfort of good company. You hadn’t expected to enjoy hanging out with Steve or Holly this much. 

Holly slouches into your arm, stretching her legs across the grass like a bridge between the towels. Her heels push into the pudge of Steve’s thigh, the faintest smirk crossing her lips. 

He squeezes her ankle until it darts away. 

Gradually, she presses again and in turn, he squeezes, but this time he doesn’t let go. She squeals as he drags her down your side. But all hell breaks loose when he starts tickling the bottom of her foot. 

She shrieks, thrashing and squirming against his hold, giggling in between gasps. “Ste–vie!” she cries.

Her laugh is too pure of a sound to be real, Steve thinks. His resolve crumbles, grip faltering. And Holly’s heel slams smack into his jaw. Steve winces, bending away to cradle his cheek. 

You straighten up. “You okay? Let me see.” 

Holly’s legs go limp in the grass, her shoulders tense in your lap. 

Steve’s hand slackens unveiling a red splotch not much darker than his sunburnt cheeks. He meets your eyes with a dismissive shake, “It’s okay.” 

You believe him. It doesn’t look nearly awful enough to make your concern stick. And his face has been through worse. Billy Hargrove painting his fists red with Steve’s blood is one of the things you remember most about that night. 

His attention dips down to Holly. She sniffles, eyes glistening in the sunlight with a frown nearly reaching her chin. 

“It’s okay. I’m okay, Holl.” 

Holly putters, whimpers drowning the edges of her words. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay! I promise! It doesn’t even hurt,” he reassures, cupping her kneecap. 

You tug her off the ground and she sinks into your arms naturally. Hot tears pave a path down your neck only to dissolve in the fabric of your shirt. You coax her sobs out, one back rub at a time. 

Steve waits until she settles with this pitiful look on his face. “I know you didn’t mean to Hollybear. Just an accident. Hmm?” 

She nods against your chin. 

He strokes the back of her arm, fingers grazing yours where they work. “Please don’t cry.” 

Holly sniffles. 

“You know what might help me feel better?” She lifts a sweaty cheek off your chest as Steve opens his arms. “A hug.” 

She pushes out of your hands into his. He holds her tight, providing one loving squeeze after another. 

This is not how you pictured Steve to be under normal babysitting circumstances. A voice like sweet honey, eyes warm like the sun. He’s very soft, and so undeniably kind. And not just to Holly, but also you. 

Steve hooks the spare towel closer, draping it across her back. “Lean back,” he tells her. 

She avoids his gaze as she does, tears melting away under his touch. 

“You know what I think?” He cinches the towel at her collar like a cloak. 

She hums. 

“I think we should have popsicles for dessert.” 

Holly meets his eyes then, excitement glimmering underneath the droop of lingering guilt. 

“How does that sound?”

“Good,” she admits meekly. 

A smirk thins his lips. “I dunno though. What if we get a tummy ache?” He pokes her belly through the towel. “Maybe it’s not–”

“No– I want one!”

“I dunnooo,” he sings.

“Please, Stevie! You already said.”

“How bad do you want it? Like this much?” He pinches his fingers together, leaving the slightest gap between them. 

“No, no!” She shakes her head, casting her arms out as far as they’ll go. “This much!” 

He sighs loudly, shoulders sagging for the dramatic touch. “Okay.” 

Holly’s arms curl around his neck as he stands. He’s more than happy to carry her, but the added weight makes him groan. 

You trail behind automatically, half enjoying the show and just as excited for a treat. Steve pins the back door open with his foot, returning a smile you hadn’t realized you were sharing. Your cheeks are starting to protest, sore with overwhelming happiness. 

“What color do you want?” 

“Pink! Pink!” Holly shouts in his ear, loud enough to make you wince. But Steve doesn’t react in the slightest to her volume. You’d all taken a piece of the Upside Down with you after El sealed it up. And just when you seemed to forget it, you’d be reminded in the form of scars, nightmares, headaches, and in Steve’s case, hearing loss. 

He opens the freezer, Holly propped on his hip. She’s far too big to be carried like that comfortably but he does it anyway. 

“Pink for Holly. Red for Steve.” He leans back to find your face. “For you?” 

You purse your lips, “Surprise me.” 

Steve stows Holly on the countertop so he can snip the plastic tips. She receives her popsicle first, then you, and finally Steve. 

“Matching,” Holly observes as you sit beside them on the couch. 

Steve crosses his popsicle over your identically red one when you raise an eyebrow. “Look at that,” he says. 

She hums, gnawing on the plastic wrapper. Steve pushes the ice up for her and thumbs away the dribble at the corner of her mouth. She doesn’t seem to notice, but it catches you off guard. Steve’s such a natural at this you almost can’t believe he’s an only child. 

You turn the TV on to an episode of Care Bears as Holly slumps into Steve’s chest, slurping the last of her slush loudly. 

“Sleepy?” you ask when she kneads her eyes. 

“No.”

You chuckle, combing her frizz back. “Okay.” 

“You know, it’s okay if you are sleepy,” Steve mentions, equally amused. 

“I know. I’m not.” Her tone is casual, a portrait of nonchalance, despite the yawn that slips out afterward. 

You and Steve exchange a look of mutual fondness. 

“I’m pretty tired,” Steve declares, reclining into the cushions with a fake yawn. “I think I’ll take a nap.” 

Holly twists against him to watch. It doesn’t take long for her little fingers to poke and prod his lashline.

He peels one eye open, playfully cocking an eyebrow. 

She giggles and pinches the skin closed. 

You’re trapped between nervously supervising she doesn’t poke his eye out and leaving to get a baby wipe for her hands which you imagine are very sticky with popsicle juice. Either way, you’ll be surprised if Steve doesn’t have pink eye by morning. 

“I’m sleeping,” he whines and headbutts her palm gently. 

“Nooo,” she whines back, wedging her hand across his mouth. Delirium is setting in, a nap is imminent. 

Steve opens his eyes, giddy just the same. “Okay. You got me.” 

Holly frees his mouth to swipe a streak of red from his chin. Her tongue pokes out in prime concentration. 

A staggered laugh of disbelief is shaken from Steve’s chest. He hadn’t expected Holly to be difficult, but she’s been nothing short of delightful. She’s sweeter than Mike and Nancy combined and smarter than he thought kids her age could be. For a self-indulgent second, he hopes that his kids will turn out something like her. 

Holly reels back around to lay on her side, eyelids sagging with an inevitable heaviness. Steve draws the towel up to her chin, fixing his palm to her back. You watch her drift off, eyes slipping up every so often. 

When you’re positive she’s out, you cautiously dislodge the popsicle wrapper from her fingers. Steve passes his as you stand. 

One of the many hard things about kids is all the cleaning. Holly’s as neat as a five-year-old gets, and still, every moment of peace is an opportunity spent putting things back where they belong. You head outside to tip the pool over and collect stray towels and toys that didn’t make it back in. 

By the time you return, Steve’s passed out, mouth ajar, head craned back against the couch. It’s not a particularly attractive expression– he’d probably be embarrassed to wake to your staring– but you can’t find anything other than endearment in yourself.  

You shower and change into fresh clothes and end up on the opposite couch to watch TV. But Care Bears isn’t all that entertaining anymore so you rest your eyes for just a second. 

A second turns to several and when you reopen your eyes you discover the clock is two hours ahead of where it was before. 

The silence is only comforting for a fleeting moment before anxiety creeps in. Your eyes flick from the TV, now powered off, to the other couch where Steve and Holly are not where you left them. Nor are they in the dining room, kitchen, basement, or backyard. You take the stairs two steps at a time and nearly trip over a blanket strewn across the banister when Holly screams. 

You’d have kicked her door off the hinges if it came to it but are thankful it’s already open. Holly is perfectly safe, bent over the remnants of what you assume was a pillow fort. 

You release a breath caught in your throat and sag against the doorframe. Steve offers an apologetic smile when he notices. 

Holly glances over but quickly returns to their game. “You’ve destroyed my kingdom!” she shouts, drilling a finger into Steve’s chest. “Off with your head!” 

You’re too stunned to laugh, but a noise of confusion skips out. Steve gawks at Holly in pretend despair, scrubbing any seeping amusement off his lips with the back of his hand. He’s dressed in sweats, Holly in a princess dress. But more importantly, his face has been caked in makeup and his hair twisted into two fluffy knots. 

“You!” Holly yells with a scowl aimed at you. “Hold him down!” 

Steve pleads at your ankles, pressing his forehead to the carpet in prayer. It takes every ounce of you not to break character and laugh. There’s something so surreal about Steve Harrington, former King of Hawkins High, in sparkly eyeshadow, kneeling before a little girl to beg for his life. It’s hilarious as it is heartwarming. 

“If I may propose a suggestion!” You counter, equally dramatic. “A trade! For this silly man’s life, we will help rebuild your kingdom twice as big! Princess I–” 

“Queen!”

Steve snorts but she must miss it. 

“My apologies. Queen Holly, I can assure you this new Kingdom will have all of the finest luxuries that royalty like yourself might desire.” 

She takes a second to process the big words. “Fine!” She sneers, diving onto her mattress which is absent of all its sheets and blankets. “Chop! Chop!”

You bite your lip, chasing the fervent smile away. Steve gets right to work, sorting pillows from most to least sturdy. You steal another chair from Nancy’s desk and help Steve double-knot the roof to it. It’s no mansion, but it is long enough for Steve to lie down in, which is a job well done in your book. Especially when you’re under strict supervision and listening to a thread of loud critiques. 

You lift the door flap for Holly to crawl through. “Your quarters, Your Grace.” 

She glances over her shoulder with a wicked, but mostly adorable, expression. “My name is not Grace! It’s Holly! Queen Holly to you!” 

The explanation dies on your tongue because how can you possibly argue with that? You’re just grateful to still have your head. 

After the grand tour, Queen Holly disappears into one of the tent’s offshoots with a handful of stuffed animals she's referring to as her royal guards. 

Steve scoots closer, whispering behind his hand, “I think we need to stage a coup.” 

You lean into his good ear, affection spilling off your tone, “I didn’t know she could be so mean.” 

“Me neither! She must be hanging out with Mike.” 

“Must be.” You grin for what feels like the millionth time today. 

You’re sitting knee to knee, close enough to catch the heat of Steve’s breath on your cheek. You drag the pad of your finger across his cheekbone where teal eyeshadow has been caked on in several layers. “I like this,” you compliment. 

I kinda forgot she put that on.” He ducks his head bashfully, peeking up through his eyelashes. “Do I look pretty?” 

“The prettiest.” 

He receives it as teasing, but it’s true, you do think Steve is pretty. A strong nose, kind eyes, and sure, maybe the hair. But now that you’re inches apart, you notice twin smile lines, a series of freckles down his cheek, and a faded scar across his forehead. You linger there more than anywhere else, under the guise of judging Holly’s makeup job, of course. 

But the silence twists into something less comfortable with each passing second. A brief twitch of emotion flickers across Steve’s face, gone before you can name it. “So… pizza for dinner?” he blurts out. 

Before you’ve processed what happened, Holly shouts, “Cheese please!” 

Steve splinters from your gaze, calling back, “Yes, My Queen.” 

Dinner is pleasantly easy. The pizza’s delivered and paper plates save you from the hassle of dishes after. You eat at the kitchen table, sharing stories and smiles, strangely like a family. 

And after dinner, Holly has a bath; and after bath, Steve whisks her off to bed. You’re left to your own devices for once, a benevolent bout of peace, but still, you can’t seem to relax. 

The spray of the bathroom light paves the hall leading to Holly’s room. You tiptoe up to the door and peek inside. 

Steve’s on the floor, slouched against the side of the bed cradling Holly to his chest. He flinches as your shadow veers across the moonlit wall.  

“Sorry,” you whisper, dropping onto your knees beside them. 

Holly picks her head up, tear tracks shimmering as she turns. Her lip wobbles through a whimper. 

You soften like wax near a flame, eyes flitting to Steve who looks equally at a loss. 

She curls her knees into his tummy in a way that probably hurts. The poor thing dissolves into fresh tears, spilling out faster than Steve can chase away. 

“Holls, it’s okay, honey. Me and Stevie are here, okay?” 

She strains to speak through a chain of gasps, “I want my Mommy!” 

“I know, I know. She’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” you steer sweat-slick hair behind her ear. 

“I want her now.” 

“We’ve got ya, Holl,” Steve chimes in. 

“We’re right here.” 

“No– Mommy!” 

It goes like this for a while, soothing reassurances met with unyielding resolve. Holly’s not one to be stubborn for no reason. She’s so exhausted and upset it breaks your heart. You try reading and music and back rubs but there seems to be no end to her sobbing. 

Steve strokes her ankle where it’s now tucked underneath her in your lap. He looks exhausted– hair draped over his forehead like a claw, extra weight embedded in each of his eyelids. You’re both at your breaking point. “You wanna sleep with me tonight Hollybear?” he says in a tone gentler than you’ve ever heard. 

“No. Mommy,” she persists. 

“You can sleep with her when she gets back. But tonight you get to have a sleepover with Steve. Or you can even sleep with me in Nancy’s bed, okay?” 

Red-rimmed eyes flick between you and Steve. Neither option is as good as Mom. 

“Both,” Holly whines. 

“Wanna lay with both of us?” 

She nods. “In the middle.” 

“Okay,” you turn to Steve. “We can do that.” Your words are colored like a question but he’s already nodding his answer. 

He shovels Holly from your lap, cheek pressing into hers in an unspoken exchange of relief. “Alright, munchkin. Let’s go steal Nancy’s big bed. Sound good?” 

She hums her approval into his ear. 

Steve pokes Nancy’s door open with his foot, swinging around to the tucked side of the bed. You crawl across your end as Holly slides off his chest. She molds herself against your shoulder, tugging Steve closer when he settles. 

“Goodnight, Hollybear,” he says. 

She steals your hand from underneath the comforter, then his where it lies on the sheet. Your knuckles brush Steve’s where they are stapled to her chest. “Goodnight,” she sighs. 

Steve strokes up and down the back of her hand, his touch a quiet catalyst. She’s asleep in mere minutes, snoring softly, fingers limp against yours. 

Steve nudges your hand where it’s already pressed to his, whispering when you turn, “Am I crazy that I find all of this kinda fun?” 

You shake your head, a smile working its way across your lips. “Guess that would make me crazy too.” 

“I know I always complain about driving those little shits around but Holly’s actually really fun to babysit.” 

“Yeah, she is. At least it’s not the end of the world this time, right?”

“Yeah, that probably helps, huh?” Amusement ebbs into a sigh. “I’m kinda dreading going home, to be honest.”

“Why don’t we put Mike in a wig? Kidnap Holly for ourselves.” 

He snorts into his pillow. “Oh, yeah. That’ll work. ‘Yeah, I dunno Mrs. Wheeler, she had a crazy growth spurt while you were gone.’”

“We’d take good care of her.”

“We would,” he nods. “You’re really good with her.” 

“So are you. Kinda surprised me actually.”

“Really? Cause Dustin tells me weekly I’d make a good mother.” 

“Yeah, but they’re different. Older. And don’t get me wrong, you’re great with them and they love hanging out with you. Holly’s just little. You’re so much gentler with her, and like, you always seem to know what to do.” 

“For the record, I have no clue what I’m doing.”

“Me neither. I don't know what Mrs. Wheeler was thinking asking us to do this.”

Intertwined laughter fades, but something else— something similar— lingers. An almost tangible buzz of energy, as if the silence itself is alive with unspoken words. You entertain the idea that the feeling’s not exclusive to just you. That Steve hears the same jitter in his pulse and feels the same flutter against his ribs. That you aren’t alone to be feeling such a way.    

“Is it–” 

“Are we–”

“Sorry, you go,” he jabbers out. 

The words trickle back down your throat, too thick to cross your tongue again. “You can probably go now,” you decide. 

His gaze jumps to Holly’s chest where his hand is still coupled with one of hers. 

“If you want,” you amend. “You don’t have to.” 

“You don't mind? If I stayed?”

You shake your head.

“Just worried she’ll wake up if I move.” 

You try to flatten your excitement as you reply, “You can stay.” 

His gaze swims with yours across Nancy's room, skimming over the cluttered dresser, the desk strewn with books and pens, to the shuttered closet doors.

“Sorry about– you know– I heard Nancy… dumped you,” you say, immediately regretting the awkward phrasing.

“Harsh,” he squints and casts you a bittersweet grin. “But true.”

“Is it… weird? To be in here?” 

“A little. But not as much as I thought it would be. Hell of a lot better than Mike’s room.” 

You hum, watching the gentle shift in his brows. 

“Is it weird for you?” 

“Me?” you ask. “In what way?” 

“You and Nance. You don’t always see eye to eye.” 

“I mean, yeah. When our decisions involve risking our lives– or the kids– she’s pretty damn impulsive. And she can be real stubborn and selfish sometimes too. But I dunno, I still love her. She’s been sort of like a sister since everything started. I think that’s why we argue.” 

“What does that make me? Your brother?” 

You roll your eyes. “No, you’re the stray dog we adopted.” 

“Okay. That’s just mean.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Your laugh laps out louder than you intend, but Holly remains still. “I dunno who you’d be. The love interest?”

“I can work with that, sexy love interest–”

You scoff. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Harrington.” 

“Okay, okay. But love interest because…”

“Cause you dated Nance.”

“Oh,” he exhales. 

“You don’t agree? Should we go back to stray dog?” 

“Oh, shut up. I’m going to bed.” Steve rolls onto his side with a sigh. 

“Keep your snoring to a minimum, please.” 

He grumbles, narrowing his eyes at your smirk. “I don’t snore.”

“You do. I could hear it from here last night.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I did,” you argue. “It definitely wasn’t Holly.” 

“Whatever. Goodnight.” 

“Night.” 

Only when your eyes are closed does his smile finally emerge. It’s silly how quickly you can pull it out of him. It throws him for a loop every time. But with you at his side, maybe he’ll dream of happier things for once. Either way, it’s easier to fall asleep, just knowing you’re there falling asleep too. 

ᯓ★

“Shhhh!” 

“No, you shhhh,” a lighter voice giggles. 

“Holly,” Steve scolds, mirth buttering his tone. You know he’s smiling by the sound alone. 

Holly’s laughter triples in volume but then is abruptly muffled. 

“Ew– did you just lick me?” 

And this all just sounds way too cute to miss out on. You pry your lashes apart, still sticky with sleep, and flip on your side to face them. 

They freeze, eyes widening adorably in sync. Steve is reclined against the headboard, an arm bent behind his neck. Holly is sprawled halfway across his tummy, toes tickling your side. 

“Sorry,” he offers like you’d be mad. But how could you possibly be anything but enamored waking up to their giggly little voices? If you could be woken up like this every day, you would. 

You shake your head, scratching underneath your eyes. The walls are bathed in muted colors, waiting to be warmed by the sunrise. It’s still early. 

Holly rolls off of Steve onto the floor and barrels out of the room. 

“Where are you going?” he shouts. 

“Potty!” 

Steve turns to you, eyes roving across your bedhead for an embarrassingly long amount of time. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

“Did she kick you last night?” 

You rake your fingers through your hair, quickly moving them to your lips to stifle a yawn. “Not that I remember.” 

“Oh, you’d remember. Trust me. She was on top of me the whole night.” He’s smiling like an idiot. He couldn’t sound annoyed about it if he tried. 

“Aww, she loves you,” you coo. 

“Yeah,” he agrees, pink dusting his cheeks, “I can’t wait to do this.”

“Hmm?”

“Settle down. Have a family. I wasn’t, like, a hundred percent sure before, but I am now.” 

“You’ll be a good dad.”

He beams at you like he’s just won the lottery. “You think?” 

“For sure.” And he really would. You’re sure of it after last night. 

He opens his mouth to speak but your stomach cuts him off with an obnoxious growl. “Hungry?” Steve chuckles. 

“Shut up.” You swipe your pillow and smack him. 

He smacks you back, pulling it to his chest before you can steal it. “Wanna go out for breakfast?” 

Your brain short circuits. You forget you’re babysitting and not just laying in bed with Steve Harrington for fun. He is not asking you on a date like your heart assumes. 

“Oh, yeah. Sure. For sure,” you sputter out, heat licking up the back of your neck. 

“I’ll go see what she wants,” he slides onto the floor and shakes his legs awake. 

Steve’s tall, even sluggishly slumped over. But even more so as he stretches– arms rising with his shirt, revealing a fraction of golden skin above his waistband. A long, lazy moan climbs out of his chest. 

You push the comforter off before you burst into flames. 

Holly determines she wants IHOP because they put chocolate chips and sprinkles on the pancakes. Steve supplies her with an outfit and wrestles her hair into pigtails with bows to match her skirt. It’s surprisingly coordinated and admittedly cute, but maybe you’re wrong to be so surprised– he knows his way around a comb and a closet. 

“Can I get pancakes?” she asks Steve, perched on the bottom step of the stairs. 

He’s cross-legged on the floor, hunched over to lace her sneakers. “I already told you yes, silly goose.”

“Can I get extra sprinkles?”

“Uhh, does your mom let you?”

She thinks about it before answering. “Yes, I think so.” 

“Sure, then.” He grins, clapping her tied shoes together before standing. 

You shoulder Holly’s bag, stuffed with books and toys and a jacket in case it rains, courtesy of Steve who insisted she might need it. “Ready?” you ask him.

Steve races Holly to the car while you lock up. Mrs. Wheeler installed Holly’s car seat in Steve’s beamer before she left but you’ve yet to use it. 

“It’s too tight,” Holly whines from the car, loud enough to hear from the top of the driveway. 

“I know, ‘m working on it,” Steve assures, working his fingers under the straps. “Just gotta figure it out.”

“Hurry!” 

“I’m hurrying, Holl. Give me a sec’.” 

You open the passenger door and peek around the headrest to view her. The belts are buckled but not tight enough to spark concern. “He’s going as fast as he can, Holly. Be patient.” 

She squirms under his hands, exhaling sharply. And like her, Steve’s frustration mounts, jaw tightening, brow furrowing. His fingers keep slipping and he’s not totally sure which button or strap is for loosening. 

You swing around to Holly’s door and cup Steve’s shoulder. “Let me try.”

He knocks his head on the roof as he pulls out. 

You wince, “Okay?” 

He softens as you reach for his neck, though your fingers never land. Still, the tender look you offer is enough to cure any bumps or bruises he might’ve gotten. 

It’s an unfortunate amount of trial and error before Holly is fastened in properly. Steve cranks the AC on full blast when you finally settle into your seats and circles through radio stations after he backs out. He finds the kid’s station, playing a Muppet’s song that Steve apparently knows every word to. He sings unapologetically loud, a stupid grin sewn to his face. 

When you arrive, Holly happily holds your hand through the parking lot, still clutching tightly as you wait to be seated. She climbs onto your lap to make room on the waiting bench for a woman looking ready to pop out a baby any minute. Steve stands at your other side, arm braced behind your neck. 

“How old is she?” the woman asks you fondly. 

“She’s five,” you return her smile, bouncing your knee. “Right, Holly?”

Holly twists to hide in your neck, nodding. 

“She’s very cute,” she says with such love you already believe her baby is in good hands. “Your sister?” Her eyes flick from yours to Steve who is mostly oblivious to the conversation. 

“No, just babysitting.” 

“Oh, well, you’ll make good parents one day.” 

The comment renders you speechless. It’s not that you hadn’t considered children before, but you hadn’t pictured them with Steve. With his smile, his eyes, his nose. It’s that this woman who doesn’t even know you imagined it before you had. You blink at her stupidly through a forced smile.

Steve squeezes your shoulder, ripping you from your thoughts. “You okay? Table’s ready.” 

You get seated in a booth overlooking the parking lot. 

Holly bends across Steve’s lap to point through the window. “I see our car!” 

“Yeah, that’s her.” 

Holly’s face contorts with confusion. “Her? Your car’s a girl?” 

“Yep–”

The waitress swings over with a handful of menus and a hasty introduction. Steve already knows what he wants and he places Holly’s order after his, making sure to clarify the extra sprinkles when she calls his name repeatedly to remind him. As soon as you decide, the waitress bustles off with the pair of menus to another table. 

Holly slides her paper menu closer, examining each activity. 

Steve picks open the box of crayons, revealing a stingy three– red, green, and blue. “You know, for a multi-million dollar company, you’d think they could afford more than three crayons.”

“And more staff,” you add, eyes tailing another waitress zipping from one table to another. 

Holly points at herself, Steve, and then you, counting, “One, two three. Three crayons for three people.” 

“Yeah, good point,” Steve pats her thigh. “Always the optimist.” 

“Op-ta-nist?”

“Op-ta-mist,” he clarifies. 

She snags the green crayon and presses it to the paper. “What’s that?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth. “Well, it’s like– it’s when you– you’re happy a lot. Grass is always greener on the other side, you know?” 

Steve lost her at the metaphor but she’s too focused on staying inside the lines to care about the definition of optimist anymore. 

“You got there eventually. Sort of,” you tease. 

His foot stabs your ankle under the table. “Shut up.” 

Steve lets Holly win every single round of tic-tac-toe while showering her with praise, convincing her she's a tactical mastermind. You can’t quite tell if she’s onto him, but she’s too busy grinning to say otherwise.

The waitress plants your and Steve’s plates on the table first, reaching behind to scoop Holly’s off her tray next. “And, chocolate chip pancakes with extra sprinkles for the little one.” 

“Thank you,” you manage to say before she leaves to tend to another table flagging her down. “Holly, want syrup?”

“Yes, please.” 

You pour a spiral of maple syrup over Holly’s pancakes. The amount of sugar on her plate might qualify it more as candy than breakfast. And she’s ogling the food like it’ll grow legs and run away. 

“Steve, will you cut them up for her?”

He nods, swallowing a mouthful of scrambled eggs and trading his fork for a knife. As soon as he slides her meal back over, Holly ravages the pancakes, spooning another bite in her mouth before she’s swallowed the last.

The waitress whisks by with drink refills, joy driving her to a smile at the sight of Holly and her half-empty plate. 

“I swear we feed her at home,” Steve chuckles through his own joke. What a dad thing to say. “Can we get some more napkins?” 

And it’s like he knows what’s going to happen. Holly stretches across the table for the syrup bottle, drawing back with an open-mouthed grimace. 

“Uh-oh.” She presses her chin to her chest. There’s a patch of syrup turning the hem of her pink shirt brown. 

“What?” Steve throws a pigtail behind her shoulder so he can see. “Oh. It’s okay.” 

“It was an accident,” Holly explains. 

“I know. It’s okay.” 

“It’s sticky.”

“It’ll wash off.” Steve dunks a clean napkin in his cup of water and dabs it across the stain. 

“It’s too cold,” she complains, pinching the fabric away from her skin. 

“Sorry. It’ll dry. Have to get the syrup out, though.” 

You deliver another wad of napkins to Steve’s hand. He pushes them against her belly, soaking up any excess water. His patience never frays.

Holly looks up, worry etched into her voice, “Will it stain?” 

“I dunno,” you supply truthfully. “We’ll throw it in the wash when we get home.” 

Steve pays the bill with the cash the Wheelers left and scrapes his wallet for change, stacking two quarters on the table when he finds them. “Since you’ve been such a good listener. There’s a sticker machine up front,” he tells Holly. 

Steve might as well have slapped a ticket to Disney World on the table. Holly literally jumps for joy, right out of her seat. She buys a random Lisa Frank sticker and pockets the second coin for her piggy bank. 

It’s Steve’s idea to go to the playground afterward. The park is teeming with life, the kind of chaos that only a weekend morning can bring. Swings creak under the weight of eager kids, and the monkey bars have their own traffic jam. Parents wrap the playground like a barricade, their chatter drowned out by laughter and shouts. But the heat presses down ruthlessly, making every step feel like you’re wading through a sauna.

Holly tears away from Steve’s hand as soon as her shoes hit the mulch, rejoicing in her newfound freedom with a little skip. She races up a set of stairs to wait for a turn on the tallest slide. 

“Should’ve brought sunscreen,” Steve says, eyes following Holly down the slide. She flashes you both a prideful smile from the bottom. 

“She’ll survive. We won’t stay long. It’s too hot.” You pull your shirt out to fan your chest, dabbing the sweat beading at your sternum. 

“Careful!” he shouts as she hops from one platform to the next. She continues to bounce along the path, one wobbly leap at a time. A particularly long jump has Steve cringing. He’s trying really hard not to be overanxious and it’s as sweet as it is amusing. 

He side-eyes your grin with an opposing frown. You don’t even have to say anything for him to know you’re teasing him. “What?” 

You shrug, smile doubling. “You.”

“What about me?” 

“You’re just funny.” 

“My concern is funny to you?” he accuses. 

“She’s fine, Steve.” 

He makes a noise of disagreement, arms crossed and a hip popped out dramatically far. You see why Dustin teases him for being motherly. 

Holly struggles with the monkey bars. She makes it halfway across before her arms start to shake and her hands slip. Steve lunges forward as he watches her plummet to the ground. But before he can swoop in, Holly pops up, dusts the dirt from her skirt with a nonchalant shrug, and marches on, completely unfazed. 

“See. She’s fine,” you reassure.

“Whatever,” Steve grumbles, strolling away to sulk in private. 

He makes a slow lap around the playground, hands planted firmly on his hips, casting a critical eye over the chaos. Meanwhile, you snag a spot on a bench, where most parents are engrossed in magazines or gossip, blissfully detached. You watch Steve get roped into playing a monster, though you can tell he secretly loves it. 

It doesn’t take long for him to start stomping around, roaring and growling, chasing the kids as they shriek and scatter. And when they finally tire him out, he collapses beside you, his shirt clinging to his sweaty back, and his breath coming in ragged bursts. 

“I told her five more minutes,” he says, stretching an arm across the back of the bench behind you. His curls shine honeycomb gold in the spray of sunlight and his skin echoes the warmth of desert sand, softened pink like the blush of sunset. He looks strikingly gorgeous sprawled out beside you. 

Holly trots over not much later, alarmingly upset. 

You sit up, urgently shaking Steve’s thigh to grab his attention. “What happened, honey?” 

“I– I was,” she sucks in a staggered breath, “I was climbing the stairs and– and a boy, he pushed me.” Twin rivulets of tears are unleashed with a blink, converging at the curve of her chin. 

You scan her from head to toe. Nothing looks broken or bloody. “Are you hurt?” 

“No,” she strains. 

You drag her into your chest, pressing a loving cheek to her ear. “Did it scare you?” 

She nods, hiccuping into your neck. 

“I’m sorry, Holly. That wasn’t nice at all.” 

Steve’s gaze shifts between Holly and the playground to search for guilty suspects. He finds none, thankfully, though he’s still itching to wring out whatever parent it is not watching their kid– which is unfortunately most of them.

“Let me see,” he coaxes Holly over for his own checkup. He picks a piece of mulch from her hair and flicks off another stamped into her calf. “Think you’ll make it? Should we call an ambulance?” 

She doesn’t smile at his joke like you hope. 

“Ready to go home?” you ask.

She sniffs into her sleeve. “Yeah.” 

“Alright.” Steve hoists her up as he stands. Holly's long legs wrap around his waist, feet swaying against his thighs as he walks. 

Holly naps on the way home, not by choice but by sheer exhaustion. She convinces herself she didn’t actually fall asleep when she wakes up in the driveway, swearing, “I just closed my eyes.” 

But it’s quickly apparent that twenty minutes was not enough. She cries because her leftover pizza for lunch is cold in the middle and again when she rubs the sauce in her eye. You turn on a movie, hoping to induce another nap, but The Aristocats is just too good to sleep through. Thankfully, her grumpiness wanes into a more manageable pout, her arms uncrossing to snuggle closer to you on the couch.

When the movie ends, she slinks up, her departure leaving your lap cold. After a long-winded debate about what to do, you all finally agree on playing a board game. Steve steers Holly downstairs to pick one out and she returns with a rekindled excitement, dropping the game Twister at your feet. 

There’s nothing inherently wrong with Twister, but you were expecting something easier. Candy Land or Chutes and Ladders. So you let Steve and Holly go first. The round ends in a heap of tangled limbs and giggles, a winner unclear. But Holly wins the match against you, admittedly fair and square. And it’s all fun and games until she insists you and Steve must compete. 

“Ehh, Holly. My arms are tired,” you reason. 

“But I wanna be the referee too,” she whines. “Pleaseee!” 

Steve shrugs at you, a playful little curve to his lips. If you say no, that makes only you the bad guy. And you just can’t bring yourself to break Holly’s heart over something so simple. 

“Okay,” you sigh, ignoring the nervous tick in your chest. 

Holly pushes you by the hips onto the mat to stand opposite Steve. She gets situated on the floor and excitedly flicks the spinner, calling, “Left foot. Blue!” 

You each step toward a blue dot. Easy. 

“Right foot on green.” 

Right foot, green. You’re shoulder to shoulder now, hips angled toward his. 

“Right hand… yellow!” 

“Here we go,” you mumble, bending down to reach yellow. “Okay.” 

Steve chuckles and follows suit, free hand hovering awkwardly behind your shoulder. 

You twist your head until you can’t, just to see the stupid look on his face. “You know, your long legs really give you an unfair advantage here.” 

“Don’t be a sore loser,” he chides, hot breath fanning the back of your already hot neck. 

“Don’t speak so soon, Harrington. You’re the one who’s gonna lose.” 

“Right hand, red,” Holly announces. 

You lean back toward red, headbutting Steve’s side so you don’t fall. He curls into position next, swaying until his back pocket is inches from your nose. 

“Oh my God, Steve. Get your butt out of my face!” You’d shove him if you had an extra hand. 

Holly giggles in that contagious way kids laugh, automatically pulling one from Steve. 

“Don’t make me laugh. If I go down, so are you,” he reminds you. 

“Umm, left foot green,” Holly says. 

Steve groans dramatically, whining. “What! Holly, that’s impossible. Spin again.” 

She cackles, reminiscent of Queen Holly. “Nope, you have to! That’s the rules!”

And somehow, you both make it to green without knocking each other over. But you’re getting distracted– Steve’s hand has brushed your calf three times now and his shirt is loose, hanging off his chest in a way that gives you a clear view of his tummy. This might as well be sabotage. You tear your eyes away. You must focus. You didn’t care much for winning before, but something about Steve brings out your competitive side. 

“Right hand, green.” 

You bow your knee until it’s wedged uncomfortably into your ribcage so you can reach the green. Your thighs quickly begin to ache. You won’t last much longer in this position. Especially not when Steve arches over you like a human bridge, the zipper of his jeans tickling your back where your shirt has scrunched up. 

He shakes his hair out of the way so he can see you, albeit upside down. His smile stretches wide, radiating pure, unfiltered joy. He’s having the time of his life, and admittedly, so are you. 

Your elbow juts out, nearly giving under the weight of his gaze alone. But you snap it back in place and practically beg Holly, “Spin.” 

“Left foot blue!”

You and Steve lunge for the same blue circle. His sock slides against the tarp, leg extending much farther than he’s prepared for. His arm buckles, chest slamming down against your back. Your elbows give out immediately under the force of his weight, jaw slamming into the floor. 

“Shit, sorry! You okay?” 

A burst of laughter tumbles out of your mouth before you can answer. But maybe it’s an answer in itself. Your chin stings but you're fine. Better than fine, even. 

As soon as Steve scrambles off of you, you flip onto your back. His eyes trickle down you in assessment, eyebrows knitting together, mouth twitching like it can’t decide whether to frown or smile. 

“I’m okay,” you manage, smiley and breathless. 

“Did you hit your face?”

“Just my chin.” 

He reaches for your face with hesitant fingers. “Sorry.”

You shake your head, bolstering his wrist as he cups your chin. “I definitely won.” 

And just like that, all his worry washes away. He pries your hand from his wrist, wrenching you up to sit. “Technically, you hit the floor first.” 

You glance over to Holly for her professional referee’s opinion but find she’s no longer there. “Where’s–”

“I found it!” she yells from the upstairs. What exactly she found, you’ve no idea. But she comes stomping down the stairs not a minute later with a little box in her hands. Bandaids, you realize, as she dumps the contents on the twister mat beside you. “They’re Hello Kitty,” she says, stripping the paper backing off of one. 

You let her little fingers stamp it to the curve of your chin. It’s not bleeding, nor does it really hurt that bad, but the gesture is sweet enough to melt your heart. “Thank you, Holly. You’re so gentle. You should be a candy striper.” 

“I don’t think I’m old enough.”

“When you’re older then.”

Steve decides Twister is far too dangerous to keep playing, but Holly demands a game of Mouse Trap so it works out. Steve wins, despite you and Holly’s strategic alliance halfway through. And by then, she’s asked about dinner twice so you shelve the rest of the games and head up to the kitchen to decide together. 

Holly hums into the freezer, “Chicken nuggets… pizza rolls– oh! Eggos, can we have Eggos?” 

Steve bites the inside of his cheek, peering over her, “Why don’t we cook something? We could have a fancy dinner. Like a dinner party.”

“Can we dress up?”

“Sure,” he shrugs, flipping a pack of ground beef over. 

“Pasta?” you call from the pantry.

“Ooh, yeah. Let’s do that.”

Holly sprints upstairs for a costume, much more interested in the party than the dinner. You pull a box of noodles and an unopened jar of sauce from the shelf while Steve grabs a pot from the cabinet and sticks it under the faucet. 

“Careful. Stove’s on,” you announce, flicking the dial on high. 

Steve backs up from the sink slowly, water sloshing over the side of the pot when he bumps the table. 

“Steve,” you chuckle, pulling a dish towel from the oven handle, “It doesn’t need to be that full.” 

“No?” 

“No, dump like, half of that out.” 

He nods, pouring some out and depositing the rest over the stove. “I’m gonna be honest, I’ve never made pasta before.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed,” you quip, elbowing his side with the box of noodles in hand. “Pour these in?”

He takes the box and gives it a good shake. “How much?” 

“Maybe half? Little more?” 

He tips it over the water, snapping it back up when much more than half slides out. “Oops.” 

“It’s okay.” You chuck a few stray pieces from the counter into the pot. “Everyone’s getting seconds tonight. What do you like in your pasta?” 

“Sauce?” 

The laugh fizzles out in your throat as you realize he’s not making a joke. “Besides sauce. Cheese? Meat? Spices?” 

“Oh, uhh, I’m not sure.” Steve scratches the back of his neck, hand retracting to fidget with the hem of his shirt. He’s antsy, clearly nervous. Maybe embarrassed of his cooking knowledge, or rather, lack of it. Or perhaps afraid the pasta will end up something like the first set of grilled cheeses. 

“We’ll keep it simple then. Holly probably won’t like it too fancy anyway.” 

Steve nervously watches the water bubble, foam climbing up the sides. “Do you like garlic bread? Saw some in the freezer.” 

You fish the box out and line a pan with three pieces. And with bread in the oven and the pasta starting to boil, you hop on the counter to wait.  

“How long does it take?” Steve asks.

“Not long.” 

You open the drawer beside your legs and find a big wooden spoon. Lucky guess. “Here. Stir.” 

His eyes follow the ladle, stirring with steady hands. It’s a peaceful quiet, his focus unusually soft. Not the urgent, fate of his life kind of determination you’re used to seeing. 

When it’s ready, you pinch the spoon’s neck, fingertips sweeping his for the half a second before he lets go. “Now we strain the water. Then we can add the sauce.” 

You find a strainer and plant it in the sink while Steve carries the pot over and pours. He sets it back on the stove, per your orders, and offers a hand when you struggle with the sauce lid. 

He pins the jar against his chest, knuckles straining white in several attempts to twist the cap. But it pops off after a good shake, spraying sauce across your cheek, and spinning to the floor like a frisbee. 

Steve freezes, gawking at your face with a stupid smile. 

“Steve!” You scoop up a dish towel and smack his arm. 

He throws his hands up and turns a shoulder to you. “I didn’t mean to,” he snickers. 

“Don’t laugh! I’ll pour that whole jar over your head.” 

He doesn’t buy your threat one bit, still laughing as he sets the jar down and steals the towel from your hands. “I’ll get it. Sit still.” 

You summon the most menacing glare you can manage while suppressing a smile. He presses the towel to your cheek, thumb gliding across your skin as he wipes the sauce in one languid motion. His eyes flick down to your lips and you’re positive you aren’t imagining it. 

But you’re sweating and your stomach is churning and– “The pasta!” You ram into Steve’s shoulder trying to get by, rushing to turn the stove temperature down. 

Steve whisks up behind you to see the food. “Is it burnt?” 

“No, no. It should be fine.” You scrape the ladle under the bottom layer of noodles. “Pass me the sauce?”

You avoid his eyes as you take it. Was he going to kiss you? Maybe just thinking about it? Or perhaps there was just sauce near your mouth and you’re spiraling over absolutely nothing. 

You toss the food in sauce and divide it into three plates silently. 

“Holly! Food’s ready,” Steve shouts as he fixes the table with napkins and silverware. 

She clambers down the steps in a tutu and a cardigan that you’re pretty sure is Nancy’s. Her smile drops. “Where are your clothes?” 

Steve looks down at his sweats. “Holly, I think we’ll just–”

“Please, Stevie. It’s a dinner party, remember?” 

His eyes dart to you, though you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. “One sec.”

He swings back into the kitchen wearing a tweed suit jacket, a silky, black one draped over his arm. His is a few sizes too big, shoulder pads drooping down his biceps, and the sleeves swallowing his hands. He pushes the fabric up his elbows to hand you the other jacket. “For you.” 

“Thanks,” you deadpan. It comes off less sarcastic than you aim for. 

Holly and Steve adopt similar grins as you slip the jacket on. “You look dashing,” she compliments. 

“Very,” Steve agrees, taking a seat beside you. 

You spend the rest of dinner internally debating whether he’s flirting or just indulging in Holly’s playful antics. The uncertainty makes your stomach flip, and suddenly you aren’t so hungry anymore. 

After the dinner party concludes, it’s Holly’s suggestion to go for a walk. She wheels her bike out of the garage, fitted with a set of training wheels and a handlebar bursting with tinsel. A yawn rolls off her tongue as she launches down the driveway. It raises your hopes for a smoother bedtime tonight. 

Even as the horizon melts into the Earth, the summer heat clings like a heavy hand. Trees project long shadows along the road, eating what’s left of the sunlight. Bugs buzz and birds chirp, but a sleepy stillness is ubiquitous. 

“What?” you ask suddenly, whipping your head to face Steve. He’s drenched in gold, pale wisps of hair riding the breeze as he strolls. 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You’re staring at me. I feel it.” 

“I wasn’t,” he assures. 

You blink at him. You can’t decide whether to be annoyed at such an obvious lie or embarrassed by the truth. 

He jogs ahead before you’ve come up with something to say. Halfway to Holly, he shouts, “Come on, slowpoke!” 

It only takes one loop around the block for the heat to catch up. Holly complains incessantly about her helmet strap being too tight even after Steve fixes it and you’re itchy from sweat and mosquito bites. Steve’s, well, he might be the only content one. Happy even, guiding you home with a subtle bend to his lips and a soft glow tinting his cheeks. 

Holly whines about having to take a bath, and while you might negotiate it another night, you can see the damp line down her back. But like you suspect, all grievances are forgotten the second she gets in. She likes playing in the bath, even if she forgets it. It’s where she keeps her mermaid Barbie and her collection of rubber ducks, coincidentally all named Bob. 

And while bath time might tend to feel like more of a chore as a babysitter, tonight is different. It’s your last night at the Wheelers, and while that’s not new information, it is startlingly sad. You aren’t irritated when she splashes water in your eye or when she leaves a trail of it down the hall for you to clean. You can’t be, not when you know you’ll miss it. 

Steve helps you tuck Holly into Nancy’s bed. After pinky swearing that you’ll both return at your own bedtime, she drifts off easily. You’re thankful, of course, but a piece of you secretly hoped to be needed longer.  

“Must’ve been tired,” Steve whispers, pushing slowly off the bed. “You okay?” 

You nod, tearing your eyes from Holly to meet Steve’s. “Kinda sad.” You shrug, murmuring, “Stupid.” 

“It’s not.” He cups your shoulder and runs a warm hand up and down your arm. “Come on.” 

You take his hand and let him lead you across the hall and down the stairs. He pulls you onto the couch so you land pressed into the same cushion he’s on. “Y’know, babysitting Holly’s a breeze compared to the usual shitheads. We don’t have to worry about her taking my car keys or fighting interdimensional monsters or summoning a gate to hell,” he says. 

A soft laugh parts your lips. “Think Holly will put in a good word for us with her parents?” 

“You kidding? She loves us. Especially me,” he jokes. “Hate to break it to you but I’m definitely her favorite.” 

“No, you are not. Shut up.” 

He catches your fist mid-punch, cradling your hand like it’s made of wet sand. His thumb crosses each divot between your fingers, stroking up and down your knuckle slowly. “I’m sure they’ll ask us to babysit her again at some point.”

You hum in agreement. 

“Besides, we could expand our horizons. There’s like a million other children in Hawkins that need babysitting.” 

Your smile spills into your cheeks. “We?” 

“Yeah, I think we make a pretty damn good team. Don’t you?” 

“I do, but… we don’t have to limit our interactions to just babysitting, you know?” 

“What are you thinking? Dinner and a movie? Next weekend?” His eyes flick from your fingers to your face– to each eye, sweeping down the center of your nose, stopping right at your lips. 

You turn away in an attempt to soothe your heart as it pounds up to your ears. “Smooth, Harrington.” 

He reels you back in gently by the arm, confidence shining through his smile.“What? Did I read this wrong?” He knows he didn’t, he’s teasing you. 

“No,” you mumble, “You didn’t.” 

He leans in to whisper, “Can I kiss you then?” 

You nod, pushing into the soft press of his lips with your own. He’s not hesitant, nor is he harsh. Steve knows how to kiss, that much is clear. He trades your hand for your cheek, gently tilting your face to the side as he pulls away. 

Your eyes flutter open to a doting gaze. One that travels down the lines and slopes of your neck like they’re made of candy. Steve plants a second kiss on your lips, though fleeting in comparison to the first. But he plants several more to make up for it, working his way in a Z down your cheek, across your jaw, and back down your neck. They’re quick, ticklish little pecks of affection. A sweetness if you ever knew it. 

“Steve,” you admonish, though giggles betray your tone. The hands that frame his face glide gently down to his throat, your thumbs meeting at his Adam's apple. “We’re babysitting.” 

“I know,” he says, kissing your lips for a third time. “Just had to get a few extra in there. For all the times I thought about kissing you this weekend.” 

“Don’t say that.”

“Why?” He laughs, bubbly like you’ve surprised him. “It’s true. I thought about it all weekend.” 

You don’t know why you ask– why you even thought of it at a time like this– but you question him, “What about Nance?” 

“What about her?” 

“You don’t…” you trail off, afraid to even speak the possibility into existence. 

“We’re done. We have been. For a lot longer than I was willing to admit,” he admits honestly. 

“Yeah, but do you–”

“I don’t. Still have feelings for her. Not like that, anyway.” 

You meet his eyes, feeling a strange blend of emotions you can’t quite name.

“If you don’t believe me, you’ll just have to let me prove it to you,” he holds your gaze, warm with a sincerity that makes it hard to doubt him. 

“I believe you.” 

You let Steve kiss you several more times on that couch. He’s patient, deliberate, and more kind than you ever imagined he’d be. It’s hard to understand why Nancy would ever let someone like that go. 

ᯓ★

On Monday morning, you blink awake first, the comforting weight of a hand that’s not yours across your hip and another, much lighter one, at your belly. You turn over slowly, finding Steve and Holly wrapped around each other like ivy on trellis. You don’t imagine many people look this pretty asleep. The comb of long lashes kissing the soft flush in his cheeks. The golden lather of sunrise in each wild swoop of hair. The way his lips part for a sigh cuter than you knew one could be. 

He mumbles something unintelligible, sleep talk perhaps. 

You whisper back anyway, “What?” 

Steve sighs, smearing his cheek against the pillow. “Being a creeper.” 

“Me?” 

“Mhmm.” One eye slowly unbinds itself from sleep. Steve adores the tight-lipped smile on your face, broad with an infatuation he forgot could be aimed at him. His hand twitches at your side. 

“You just look so pretty when you sleep,” you admit. Is it too soon to say such things? 

His eye closes as he smiles, nosing into Holly’s hair, selfishly keeping it to himself. You reach across her body to find it, swiping a loving finger across his lips when you do. 

You stay in bed for as long as Holly will allow– which is not very long after she wakes up– but you don’t mind. You watch fondly as Steve helps her brush her teeth and as she helps Steve toast and butter the Eggos. Like Steve, Holly’s a good kid. They’re both helpers at heart. 

And you’re sure to remind Mrs. Wheeler of that when she rings the house to let you know they’re almost home. Holly’s excitement quickly dwindles into sadness the moment she realizes you won’t be staying. But she uses it to bargain one final game of hide and seek before you go. 

“Come on.” Steve drags you by the wrist, bustling upstairs to the bathroom. He throws the shower curtain aside and jumps in, offering his hand to help you after. You sit scrunched together, knee to knee on the porcelain floor, giggling like children. 

“Shhh,” you squeeze his kneecap. “You’re gonna get us found.” 

He jostles your shoulder, mouth agape. “You’re the one who’s laughing!” 

“No,” you insist, though the light in your eyes suggests otherwise. Curiosity sparks and the irrepressible urge to act on it wins. You lean in for a kiss, confirming that’s all it takes to shut Steve up. 

He tastes like maple syrup, loving with his lips as much as his hands. He pulls back for breath and returns for another peck, pressing into the corner of your mouth where your smile keeps drawing higher and higher. 

“Hard to kiss you when you're smiling.” 

“Can’t help it,” you defend. “Never been so happy.” 

He softens like warm icing, a sweet and gooey mess in your arms. But the shake of the front door closing stiffens him. 

“Mommy!” you hear quickly after. 

Steve scrambles up and over the lip of the tub, tugging you out with him. You follow him downstairs where Mrs. Wheeler swings Holly in her arms like she’s much smaller than she really is. Mr. Wheeler steers a suitcase silently through the entryway. 

“Did you have so much fun?” she asks Holly, peppering kisses across her temple. “Ohh, I missed you!” 

Holly revels in the affection overload, bending backward to giggle at you and Steve. 

Mrs. Wheeler grins. “How was she?” 

“Great, as always,” Steve assures. His cheeks are flushed, his hair mussed— though you could chalk that up to bedhead, not the aftermath of your short-lived makeout session.

You nod, adding, “We went swimming and to the park and–”

“IHOP!” Holly yells. “I got pancakes with chocolate chips and extra sprinkles!” 

“Did you? Sounds like you had a lot of fun.” Mrs. Wheeler plants Holly on her feet. “Can you give hugs? Say thank you for being such good babysitters?” 

Holly launches herself at Steve. He sends you a smirk over her shoulder, rocking her side to side in his embrace. You can just hear him say, I told you so. 

But she offers the same enthusiasm and more for you, dragging you onto the floor for a proper goodbye hug. “I don’t want you to go,” she pouts in your ear. 

“We’ll come back. We can have playdates?” 

“Can’t you just live in Nancy’s room? She’s never here anyway.” 

You can’t help but laugh. “I wish I could,” you admit honestly. 

She reluctantly loosens her grip on your shirt when you peel away. 

Mrs. Wheeler sees you and Steve off with a warm smile. Holly darts through her mother’s legs for one final hug on the porch. You wave goodbye, the moment slipping into something bittersweet before Steve bumps his shoulder into yours, a playful grin softening the farewell.

You dawdle up to your car, wringing your hands together when you reach the door. “So.”

“So,” he parrots. 

“This weekend, right?” 

His smirk blooms into a full smile. “Friday? Pick you up at seven?” 

“Okay,” you nod. 

“Okay,” he chuckles, clipping a hand around your jaw and leaning in. 

You turn away so the kiss skips across the softest stretch of your cheek. “Steve.” 

His eyes never leave your face as he assures you, “They’re not looking.” 

“Don’t be so sure.” 

Holly waves at you through the living room window, a smile as wide as her face. Steve’s hand falls down to his side and he takes a platonic step back. You both return her goodbye, but Holly stays, her little hand pressed to the glass. 

“Think she’ll tell?” Steve asks, not an ounce of worry in his tone. 

You shrug, tugging him back in by the waist for a proper kiss. “I guess it wouldn't be the end of the world.” 

[willowed-wisp]

könig as a dad (part two)[ könig ]

part one | part three

- In your second pregnancy he is much more likely to take in more missions (you told him to- ordered even)

- He HATES being away from you and your little boy.

- Marvels at how much he has grown in a couple of weeks.

- When his missions last for more than a fortnight, he goes stir crazy but focuses on the task at hand to get back to you

- Nobody knows he’s a dad at KorTac, he’s not close to any of them

- His greatest fear is for his kids to ever be scared of him.

- When he comes back, you don’t even realise until you see him in the rocking chair by the crib- your baby boy in his arms. Whatever wounds he has tended to by you, you MUST insist and pry your son away from him.

- Is glad that your boy will have a sibling very close in age- conceived a month after his birth. He was a very lonely child, he’s glad his kids won’t have the same experience.

- Presents you with another crib, and would be offended if you ever bought one.

- The cribs are very stable and thought carpentry looked good on him.

- He was going to teach his kids it, as his grandfather taught him.

- Your kids are named after his grandparents (I’m convinced he was raised by them in the Austrian countryside) and they were the only source of kindness in his traumatic childhood.

- The birth comes and it’s another boy.

- Next pregnancy comes in quick succession, and it’s a baby girl.

- Ahhh, that was why he got a four bedroom house… sly bastard.

AGES 0-4:

- Not afraid to change diapers or sick, he’s seen so much shit in the field… it doesn’t phase him

- Records everything! He’s such a documenter, he has very little photos from his youth so makes sure he takes them in excess.

- He manages to record all three children’s first steps and jots down their first words.

- Loves watching you teach your kids very early on, is so proud whenever they do something new.

- Your boys take after his height, they stick out like a sore thumb in nursery when around the other kids. And König doesn’t tolerate bullying, you rein him in from going yourself.

- He’s been known to make grown men cry and the kids at nursery look at him in fear. Even if he smiles.

- Mums flirt with him sometimes, he ignores them. He’s only there for the kids.

- Is sad when your kids start growing out of clothes, reminds him they’re growing up and in a matter of years they won’t need him anymore.

- He loves your kids equally but may be more attached to your daughter. She was premature and doctors said she may not make it.

- Cried in private when she was stuck in an incubator for weeks on end. He doesn’t want to burden you or unsettle the boys.

- When she could be held, he couldn’t let go. His sweet angel, so tiny compared to his large body. A kiss to her forehead.

- Your sons don’t know what to make of the small creature that cries in the middle of the night. You hoped they would come to understand what happened when they were old enough.

AGES 5-9

- Your boys look out for each other in school- König made sure of it.

- He also instilled them to watch over their little sister when she would attend primary school.

- You had to hide a bullying incident, every one of them concerning your little girl. Knowing what would happen if König found out.

- But he knew. He checked in with her every day after school and she told him, “It’s because I’m littler than them,”

- “I was picked on, for being too big…”

- “Really, papa?” With eyes like his own, the soul hadn’t been taken out though. “I wish I was tall like you…”

- He holds her on his knee, “You are perfect just the way you are, little mouse.” Giving him the love he rarely had gotten from his own parents.

- His constant lesson to his children is ‘be yourself’. Something he wishes he had learned at that age and onward.

- If your sons are picking on each other, he puts them through the wringer and gives them a hard time.

- He lets them then figure it out between themselves.

- Helps with homework, though literature and comprehensive skills aren’t his thing. Science and maths are his jam, though. Your kids are getting good grades from homework assignments.

- Walks them home from school, on the daily.

————

masterlist

[mx-pastelwriting]

GOW HC - Having a baby with them

God of War x GN! Reader

Summary: Having a baby with them.

Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Pregnancy, Tears. Lost of them.

Characters: Kratos, Thor, Freyr, Heimdall

A/N: All canon kids exist.

Kratos

- Being some years after Atreus leaves, finding love again with you. It didn’t take long until you fell pregnant, as his pull-out game is a little weak, especially after such a long time since he’s participated in the ritual.

- A bit shocked to learn the news after days of taking care of you while feeling helpless waiting for Freya to come back to Midgard. Though after the news and Freya's leaving, he’s all smiles and laughs—none that you've ever seen or heard before—filled with happiness at the chance to start a family once again and for Atreus to have a sibling. Sending him a message a day after the news while you took a nap.

- Very lovey-dovey during the pregnancy, coming more out of his hard spartan shell as you started to show more. Always placing a hand on your stomach, not caring if there wasn't anything to show yet. Insists on doing everything, not with words, of course—doing the cooking, cleaning, even making the bed—he does it all. Resting one evening with a hand on your belly, feeling them kick, jumping at the feeling at first, only realizing the little one was fighting against his heavy hand.

- Rubbing your belly every minute of every day while speaking to them in his Greek tongue, wanting them to hear his voice clearly, not knowing Norse very well. Sometimes his talking catches your attention, thinking it was for you, but as soon as he kneels, you know who they were for.

- Keeping Freya on standby as the time got closer, going hunting less, but bringing back more food every time, knowing he’d have to stay with you after the birth. When going into labor, he stays calm, holding you, kissing your skin softly as encouragement and comfort through the pain. Taking every painful squeeze of the hand, wiping away every drop of sweat that came from your forehead.

- Finally hearing the screams of your new baby coming into the world, he cries silently, holding the little bundle in his arms. With you calming down from the pain, he dared not take his amber eyes off of them. Days passed, waking from naps to hear him softly talking to the baby, watching as he around the clock cared for them, not caring about the toll it had on him. 

Waking only minutes ago, seeing Kartos’s tired state after having fed and rocked the baby for their nap, finally putting down the bundle of joy. Calling for your husband to get his slow attention, reaching out a hand, he takes it, letting you pull him into the bed. 

Taking the hulking god into your arms, letting him rest on your pillow, watching as sleep swiftly takes him. Only seconds after the uncomfortable whines of the baby started making him shoot out of sleep, quickly pushing him down promising to take care of them, did he rest after three days of no sleep.

-

Thor

- It wouldn’t have taken long at all, as the man's drive is high, but if you were careful, it would take a year or two. The pull-out game isn’t that strong, but if you don’t say anything during the act or before, he won’t pull out.

- All laughs when finding out it was only a matter of time; also thankful that you weren’t sick, just pregnant. Tells everyone when you’re okay with it, shows you off proudly as he’s going to become a father again.

- Clingy, so clingy since finding out. Staying in bed longer to cuddle, rubbing your belly, not caring if nothing was showing yet. Would stop drinking during the pregnancy; though hard, he would do it for you, keeping away from Odin as much as he could. Even asking Baldur to take some of his jobs. Feeling them kick for the first time, he would only smile, commenting on their strength or their trying to reach for Mjölnir, causing you both to laugh.

- Laying next to your stomach at night, talking to them endlessly, only stopping as he fell asleep from you playing with his long hair. Would allow you to use him like a body pillow, any position needed at night, he makes it happen. 

- When going off to a job, he has one of his oldest to watch you, mostly Magni, but Modi tags along if you want to go out to walk around the lands of Asgard. Though Heimdall is rarely asked, when Thor knows the job will be a long one, he asks. Surprisingly, Heimdall is more talkative about the new child of Thor than their siblings. 

- As you got bigger, his fights with Odin would ramp up, wanting to stay closer in case you go into labor, not even bothering to leave your shared chamber, keeping close with you as you'd been put on bed rest as growing a half-god, half-giant wasn't easy. Finally, as the time came, it went by quickly as a flash, with every medic in Asgard being there to help while Thor held your hand with tears streaming down his face.

- The first few days would be filled with tears and naps—you having the naps, of course. Thor, knowing what to do already, growing a routine with the little one as you healed from the birth. When healed, he insists on showing the little one around Asgard, knowing it was an excuse to show them off to everyone, but you agree. Seeing how he dressed them up cutely before showing them off to the family. 

Watching as the sleeping baby's feet bounced fitted with the cutest booties, Thor walked with the little one cradled against his chest with a soft cloth. Entering the front room, everyone's eyes watching as they started to gush over the little bundle.

Some were too afraid to get too close to Thor, and the other gods that cooed watched from behind the small crowd, looking around the room meeting a familiar pair of purple eyes. Quickly, they looked away, acting as if he was never interested in the new addition, knowing he'd be around later when Thor was away to meet the little one.

-

Freyr

- Three words. God of Fertility. This man has no pull-out game. Though if you were cautious enough, you would be spared for some time, but the man has a high drive, so good luck if you were planning on not having one right away.

- Thinks it's a joke at first since you both always poke funny at each other lightly, once in passing about him being the god of fertility. When it hits him, tears start. After many years of chasing people that he had feelings for over and over, the dream of having a family of his own finally came true, thanks to you.

- Though he loved the realms, the love he has for you is greater, meaning traveling to them would stop wanting to take care of you. However, you both go one last time to Alfheim, taking it slow in your early stages of pregnancy, going to the temple, bringing together both dark and light elves asking for their blessing on your growing child.

- As you get bigger, so does Freyr get even softer, lying next to you at the end of the day, at first noticing how antsy he is since going cold turkey on traveling. Until you give him the idea of reliving the travels through stories, happily doing so to the audience of you and the little one. Cuddling atop your belly as the little one kicked against his cheek, causing Freyr to shoot up, slow to figure out what the feeling was. Then, realizing with big eyes, it all ending in him playfully scolding the child, only getting a rebellious kick in return.

- Would start to get a hair-pulling amount of stress as you struggled in the late stages of pregnancy, Freyr having to do most things around the house just to keep you from getting up out of bed. Having Freya, of course, to help in the birth, though months before he had asked where you wished for it to happen in any river or realm, he would be happy to fulfill the dream as you did with his.

- Surprised at how tiring parenting is, barely getting to see his nephew grow up, the man is clueless about all of it. Fortunately, thanks to Freya, you both wouldn't be totally in the dark. Still, Freyr made the experience of parenthood even more memorable. From putting the baby's diaper on wrong to overfeeding for the reason of them being so cute,.

Waking to the noise of a familiar voice cooing, looking over to Freyr's side, not seeing his head on the pillow but glancing down, seeing him cuddled against your stomach. Kissing away at your stretched skin, loving as the baby kicks back at his papa's kind words and kisses. 

Noticing your awoken eyes on him, looking up meeting his pretty brown eyes, hoping they'd share them—if not this one, then next—knowing he'd say yes to that request.

-

Heimdall

- Heimdall has a good amount of self-control, so his pull-out game is nothing to laugh at. Meaning you would have to beg for a baby, but even then, he wouldn't want one not understanding them or the want for them.

- Quiet at first with the realization that it was all becoming real; the thought of a child and caring for one being only nine months away scared him. A change in him happens when hearing the news, growing a new sense of protection for the both of you, no longer seeking out fights to fill his ego. Slowly leaving Odin's side trading it for yours. For once, doubt crept up about his abilities—not in combat, but in him being a father.

- Every day watching you grow panic built within him bad enough to where it was visible, having to question his wellness a few times before finally breaking down letting all of his doubts spill, leaving you to put everything back together. Reassuring you'd get through it together, mistakes were inevitable, but learning to fix them is what matters.

- Isn't going to be very cuddling or a show-off in public, choosing to keep close instead, whether around the corner or from afar on the wall. When he's at home, it's all cuddles, cradling your bump, reading aloud to the both of you. Doesn't talk much to them, only states things as if teaching them through your stomach wall. Relaxing on nights, a hand to your stomach, getting the urge to move his hand away, only realizing why as the feeling of a kick caused him to gasp aloud.

- Grows eager to leave his watches early as you progress into the late stages, wanting to be there if anything were to happen. Finding his heart always racing when looking at your belly in silence, it bothered him still, being the only thing he couldn't predict. If your mobility was stunted from the pregnancy, he would go so far as to ask Baldur to take day watches, with Heimdall taking nights.

- Going into labor, Heimdall would be soft yet snappy, making sure no one was to make any mistakes. Taking every one of your screams and painful hand squeezes, soothing you with words of encouragement and promises for the future. Finally, hearing a different cry fill the room, tears run down his face, trying but failing to hide them. 

- Becomes such a cautious dad, not allowing his other family to see them until a month goes by, not wanting them to get sick. Wears a baby sling around the house while cooking, cleaning, reading to them as you heal from the birth. Showing Odin what a good father is, but when having to go back to patrols, his heart breaks, crying as he gives you the little one in the mornings before going off.

Tears threaten to spill from Heimdall's eyes while handing over your child, no longer allowed to spend days and nights with the baby. Now having to go back to his work for Asgard even with your reassurance, his pride was no longer with Asgard but with you and the new addition to your family.

Giving them a final shower of kisses before giving one to you, stepping back, taking in the sight before going off to his first day back. Sighing as the door finally closes, taking the baby only a few steps away before the door bursts open with a crying Heimdall wanting his baby back. (The man would definitely have the baby in the sling while patrolling the wall.)

-

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @fullmoonwolfer1 @loki-love

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their work being copied, translated, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

[ferrarifinnick]

WHO WANTS TO BE A DADDY | THE HUNGER GAMES HEADCANON

i absolutely loved exploring this with thg boys. we only ever really see katniss’ opinion on parenthood in the books, and it was so much fun exploring these perspectives. also i know everyone hates gale but honestly he’s so fun to write for. moody and stoic. just how i like ‘em!

set post-rebellion. if they want kids + how many/genders that suits them best.

includes: gale, finnick, peeta

warnings: none

gale would absolutely want to be a father, but just not for some time after the rebellion is won and over. i can see him moving back to the new district 12, building a new house for you both to live in, far away from the ruins he watched go up in flames. i think this would be his project for a while. it would be his way to grieve the loss of his old life, while focussing on building a new one. with you. i can see this being therapeutic for him, and i can see his younger siblings helping him with painting the walls and his mother cooking a meal for you to eat together once the project is complete. and as gale is eating in your new home with his family, i think he would realise that he no longer has to provide for them like he has since his dad died. they will be alright without him now, and he can finally live a life of his own. after his family goes back to their new home, i think he would finally tell you that he’s ready and wants to start this new chapter right away. but most importantly, he wants to start it with you.

i think gale would shine best with two boys, partly because he can fill the void his father’s death left in him, and to turn them into better men than he was growing up.

i’m going to defy canon and say that finnick doesn’t really have a preference. i think his attitude would be that if it happens, it happens, and if it doesn’t, that’s fine too. it would be something he’d like fate to decide, i think. after all, finnick is much more interested in all things you than about what you can or can’t give him. but that’s not to say he wouldn’t be completely overcome with excitement if you did happen to fall pregnant. i think he would occasionally wonder what your baby would look like, if it would have your eyes or his smile, and he’d spend a lot of his free time thinking of names that incorporate your favourite flowers and colours, just in case. but if you didn’t ever fall pregnant, i can see him being equally content in taking the number one spot on the list of people that you love.

finnick is definitely great with kids. i think he’d shine best as a girl dad or as the fun uncle katniss and peeta’s kids see occasionally for holidays.

peeta has three priorities in life: propose to you, marry you, and then have beautiful babies with you. plural, because peeta has so much love for you that it couldn’t possibly be contained to just you. no, he needs extensions of you, so that he can share his love with them, too. i think peeta would take his role as a husband and father incredibly seriously, and that would include cooking every meal for your family, organising family game nights every week, etc. but he would even do little things like filling up a vase with fresh flowers every week for you, crafting his own stories to read to your kids every night (and he’d definitely make a picture book to go along with it), and really taking the time to meet the emotional needs of your family. most of all, he wants to make the kind of loving family that he wished for but never had.

he would do best as a father to at least one girl and one boy, if not more. he would definitely make saturday mornings a baking day, with you and the kids helping to bake some treats for game night later that evening.

lmk what other headcanons you’d like to explore. like, comment, reblog. love <3

[palskippah]

Hi!

I love the Gay Dads AU so much pipipi

There's some thoughts and more drawings under the cut (and there's some mpreg wa)

-I'm not sure how the au works, but it gives me the impression that Ballister was Nimona's dad and then there came Ambrosius as a stepdad, or either they both adopted her and Nimona just took better to Ballister. But I'd go with the first option (unless there's a 'canon' option, in which case please if someone knows pipipi tell me)

-I love them so much you have no idea :'''v this is the sorta AU I create 😭 I'm having a lot of fun pipipi

-Also it makes me kinda sad that some of the drawings where Ambrosius is with Nimona he's got a >:c face on, like he doesn't know what he's doing which is very on brand for new parents but pipipi I want them to get along

-Nimona didn't talk much when she was little but one day she started talking full sentences with a big vocabulary, and then never shut up again.

>Not sure if she never talks in the drawings ND Stevenson did of this AU because she's very young or she just doesn't want to.

-Nimona loves Ballister the most and feels the most comfort in his hug, but she has more fun with Ambrosius

[Here's the mpreg YIPII]

-If they had Cyrus (the fankid I made for comic Goldenheart) it'd still be very much an accident and Nimona would be small (under four), and not very happy about it.

-She's definitely jealous and becomes very clingy to Ballister, which he finds adorable when he's not exhausted.

(The idea here was Ambrosius asking whether she'd like a brother or a sister, since she's having a sibling, but I think I phrased it wrong sjdks)

>Ballister and Ambrosius do their best for her to not feel left out, but when Cyrus' born she's not as jealous as they thought, and it seems that she actually likes him (but she doesn't let him touch any of her sea animal toys)

-Also Nimona wasn't told that her little brother was being born that day until later when Meredith was looking after her.

>She was being her toddler self and accidentally giving Ballister a more stressful time

-There's a video of a little kid with his newborn sister (I assume) in his arms and he says 'she doesn't have any arms 😦', so imagine that Nimona thought the same thing and given that Cyrus' hair is black too, she thought that her baby brother looked just like her dad 😭

-Also here's the two babies bc I love them, thinking that they'd be the sort of siblings with a small age gap that fight a lot but also love each other a lot

>Cyrus gets the smallest slice of cake, the glass with less soda, the ugliest fork in the house, and also Nimona's full support if he ever needs it.

>Also

Nimona: My pronouns are she/they Cyrus: And my pronouns are he/they The nonbinary siblings (imagine the wall of fire text)

>Also imagining them both adult or at least teenagers, where Cyrus' much taller than Nimona and her just stomping her foot in his direction and him squealing away (bc his sister is scary even if she's three apples tall)

That's it! :D

[noisilyscreechingsong]

So.

Jazz, Danny, and Elle move to Gotham for school. Jazz and Danny both at Gotham University while Elle decides she wants to go to high school.

Elle meets Damian and Jon and they just click. Flash forward a little and Elle is kinda crushing on Damian and Damian is trying to figure out what these feelings are toward his new friend.

The teen awkwardness is peak and the opportunity for cringe is plentiful.

Insert families’ perspective here.

The Bats are suspicious why Damian is coming home late from school sometimes and why he’s acting weird. It’s Dick that gets it out of him first of course and encourages him to bring Elle over sometimes instead of always going over to her apartment. Just-

“Father, may I bring someone over after school?”

“Damian, you don’t have to ask if Jon can come over.”

“He’ll be coming as well.”

Bruce actually looking up from whatever he was working on.

“You’ve made a new friend? Someone other than Jon?”

“That is correct.”

“Who is it?” Bruce asks after some silence.

“Her name is Elle Nightingale. She is in three of my classes.”

Bruce blinks.

“‘She’?”

“Yes. Elle is a girl, obviously. I didn’t realize you were going senile in your old age.”

Cue mass teasing from all of his siblings and even from Bruce about having a crush, especially when they see how he acts around her when she visits with Jon.

They predictably will do a background check on the girl and her family, immediately raising questions. Why was she homeschooled before 10th grade? Why does the eldest sister have custody? Why did they change their last name and move halfway across the country?

Then there are the Nightingales.

When Jazz easily sees the little blushes and the side-eyed glances, she sits Elle down for The Talk much to the horror of the teenager. Other than some supervision, she just gives them small encouraging smiles every once in a while, making them blush even more.

Danny on the other hand is between teasing his little sister and laughing at the young love, and going into protective brother mode and giving Damian subtle threats if he ever hurts his baby sister. He’s actually pretty okay with Damian (the kid seems too old fashioned to pressure Elle anyway) and they surprisingly bond over the most random things like dogs, finding new vegetarian recipes, and different mechanics or weapons Danny tinkers with in his free time.

I just think it would be super cute and funny. Especially when the families meet and it’s kinda chaos.

[zuppizup]

Rayllum, 10 babies and Xadian family planning

I’m trying to post the next chapter of Dark Alternative, but AO3 is very wonky, so you’re going to be subjected to my rambling thoughts on my new WIP for Work in Progress Wednesday.

So, over my vacation, I’ve been plagued by post-season 7 fanfic ideas. Short fics, obviously. No more than three chapters, as usual.

What’s got me intrigued right now, is how the continent of Xadia, or at least, a select group of people, will manage with living with the knowledge that Aaravos, in some form, is coming back in seven years. How would that affect politics and society, as well as the individual characters and the choices they make knowing that?

The regular folks would struggle to miss that whole eternal darkness and dead creatures thing that happened, but what do they know about exactly what went down?

And what do they know about what’s to come?

You know me, I’m a Rayllum person, so pretty much any fic of mine is a Rayllum fic, and this current idea is focused on how this particular threat affects the next stage of their lives.

Without a doubt, when we last saw Rayllum they were totally committed to each other and are fully ride or die… but how would that devotion relate to their future, in particular, the subject of children?

Now, I’m an angster in my deep dark heart, so while I’m sure many people could conceive of a fic where Rayllum are secure in their ability to defeat Aaravos come round two, that ain’t where my brain was ever going to go.

Rayllum are in love and clearly want a future together. Callum was openly planning a quaint little one in the Silvergrove before they were rudely interrupted by the whole end of the world dealio.

So, where does that leave them now (in my angsty reality anyway)?

In their youth, they both leaned into their more paranoid natures (Rayla leaving without Callum in TTM and Callum getting physical with Soren in season 4), and while they’ve both grown and matured since then, would such a threat as the world ending be enough to bring that paranoia right on back?

Which leaves me with my current fic planning conundrum.

Assuming Rayllum decided to forego the whole having kids thing until Aaravos is imprisoned again, how likely is it that they could plan when to have a family.

I’ve seen people say that the world of The Dragon Prince is in a medieval setting, and so people had children younger then, which, aside from not being the entire story, doesn’t feel like it really applies to a world with magic and dragons, a world that lacks the sexism and gender roles that are also associated with medieval times or other more grounded works set then.

Additionally, looking at canon, I think it could be reasonably argued that some form of birth control is readily available in the setting. In fact, I think it’s likely multiple forms of birth control exist in the world of The Dragon Prince.

From humans to elves, we don’t see large families normally associated with the inability to plan a family via the use of effective birth control. The “largest” family we see are the Sunfire monarchs, with three children. Viren and Lissa had two children only. Sarai may well have had more children had she lived, but Rayla’s parents spent multiple years at the Storm Spire and she remained an only child.

I can’t imagine there’s much in the way of entertainment at the Storm Spire either. Sure, they could abstain or get creative, but oof, hasn’t enough been asked of them?

Even looking at prior generations, we do not see large families. Given the closeness in ages of the siblings we know of, it also seems unlikely to me that children were lost in childbirth or to childhood illnesses.

To me, it seems far more likely that family planning is active in Xadia and would be a tool Callum and Rayla could exercise.

Clearly, no birth control is infallible (or I guess it can be, magic and all) and I assume Miyana’s twins were unplanned.

Personally, I head canon Rayla herself was an oopsie baby in order to further explain the complications of her parents being called away to join the Dragon Guard.

Where am I going with this? I don’t even know anymore.

I suppose, to me, it’s not a foregone conclusion that in seven years Rayllum would have a kid (or indeed multiple). The setting of the world doesn’t imply that it’s particularly difficult to prevent pregnancy. In fact, the small families imply to me that family planning is a cultural norm among elves and humans.

Faced with the imminent threat of Aaravos’ return, would Rayllum plan to start a family? Certainly, people put off having children for far lesser reasons.

We also don’t know how using dark magic, even in that limited capacity, has affected Callum and the potential for him to get possessed again. It was clearly enough to physically mark him, but does that go deeper?

Would imprisoning Aaravos once again result in an inevitable possession?

Not great when Dad gets taken over and abandons the family.

Or worse, Mum has to take him out.

Angsty though!

As usual, I’ll be doing my own thing in my fics, but I’m interested to see where Arc 3 goes with this (optimistically assuming we get it). There are a lot of factors at play to explain why we might see a lot of the characters in a state of stasis. Seven years isn’t that long when you’re facing the world ending, after all. Particularly when you’re likely to play a very active part in trying to stop that returning apocalypse.

So, which way to go? I see the angst potential in both.

On one hand, you’ve got the pain and desperation of protecting your kid from a returned Aaravos, or perhaps worse, a possessed Dad.

But on the other, you’ve got two people who likely want to take the next steps in their lives, but feel the pressure of a ticking bomb haunting them and potentially preventing them from moving forward.

Either way, bring on the pain.

[scarletwinterxx]

his day - mark lee dad imagine

hellooo. here's the mark dad father's day scenario🥺 i thought about writing one before father's day but i didn't have the time then some of you requested it so i wrote it during my free time. It took a while since I was busy but it's here. I hope you like it🤍

part1: day with dad mark lee

part2: another day with dad mark lee

part3: a day with the lee's

part4: (prologue) i don't know how to make eggs

part5: glitter pens and goodnight kisses with the Lee's

part6: first love and kisses

part7: naps and baby kicks

part8: then there was three

part9: just like you

part10: fool for you

part11: your day

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

Having a new born baby is a new challenge every time. It doesn't really matter if you already went through this twice. The fact that you have 2 older kids to get ready for school and a new born that wakes up every hour makes it 10 times more difficult.

But of course things are made better when you have your husband with you. The two of you already have the routine down to the T, usually you take the night shift since you have to feed baby Minsu while Mark takes the morning shift to get the kids ready and drive them to school.

Mark took some time off work to be with his family. He knew it would be difficult to leave you at home with the kids, and even though his parents offered to help he politely declined them with the assurance that he can handle it.

And he did. The kids are out the door and on their way to school just in time then Minsu to wake up to feed again, usually you'd do that before going downstairs to eat breakfast and get ready for the day.

The two older kids also adjusted pretty well with the birth of their new sibling, Minjee was so excited to meet him and was fascinated to see the little human. Minjung was also so happy to meet his little brother, promising to teach him everything when he gets older.

Watching your three kids together washes all of the tiredness away. The fear and anxiety you felt when delivering your youngest all goes at the back of your mind once you see Minjung hold little Minsu in his arms. Your first baby holding your youngest.

Minjee of course couldn't wait for her turn to hold the baby, you were more worried about her adjusting but she welcomed her younger sibling just as easy. She even promised she would share her cakepops with her baby brother.

All the long nights, sleepless weeks to months and the anxiety if you're doing the right thing everyday is worth it. For them, you'd do it over and over again without a doubt.

It's not always happy days of course. Some nights are more rough than others, recently Minsu hasn't been sleeping. Doctor said he might have colic, they did say it'll go away eventually and there's really not much you can do so you try to comfort him best way you can.

Mark has that mastered. Once Minsu fusses, he's already on his feet shushing his little boy back to sleep. Singing him the softest most random lullabies. Sometimes you find him just walking around the house with Minsu in his arms, telling him the most random stories

That is exactly how you found the two of them in the living room, you don't know how long Mark has been walking in circles in your living room. You can hear him telling Minsu about the many times he and Haechan got in an agreement. Laughing quietly when you hear the familiar story of that time Haechan ran over the mailbox while driving Mark's car.

Your laugh made Mark look up from the baby in his arms and over to you, a similar fond look on his face

"What a peculiar story to tell a baby"

"It puts him to sleep" Mark tells you

"I bet, imagine your dad rambling to you for hours" you joke, watching him walk in circles around the living room

"Why don't I take him, I already showered and ate breakfast"

"Its fine, love"

"Mark honey, I love you really but right now you need a shower. You're covered in baby vomit" you point at the huge stain on his shirt, you stand up from your seat to get Minsu from him

"I got this, you go get ready" you kiss him on the cheek, playfully pushing him towards the stairs

You take this time to get the surprise ready. It's father's day today and even though you agreed not to do anything grand since you just gave birth a month ago, you still wanted to do something for him.

When you're sure Minsu is asleep. You put him down on the baby rocker you have in the living room while you get the cake and flowers you secretly ordered.

It's still quiet in your bedroom upstairs so you assume Mark is still in the shower. You get your present for Mark and set it on the table also then you wait.

After a few minutes, you hear the footsteps down the stairs then Mark emerges with a towel in hand. "Hey can you dry wait woah what's this" he asks, a big smile forming on his face

"Happy Father's Day, my love"

"This is woah when did you do this, are these for me?" He takes the flowers to take a closer look

"Yep, I saw somewhere say men only receive flowers on their funeral and that made me so sad then i thought i never gave you flowers then i got sadder so i got you some"

He smiles at you, putting the flowers down so he could give you a big hug

"You're so cute, it's okay though. You gave me everything and more than I could ever ask for, just look at that" he juts his chin over Minsu who's still sleeping "How can I ever ask for more when I have all"

"You're cheesy"

"You love me"

"That I do. This life we have, I hope this isn't the only one. If there's a life after this, let's meet again okay?"

He looks right at you, listening to your words like he's hearing your wedding vows again. Then he leans down to capture your lips in his, like every kiss with you is the first.

"I'll love you in this one, and in all the other lives I'll live. I'm so so happy, there's really nothing else in this world I'd want more"

You kiss him again, smiling against his lips and hugging him tighter. The two of you only broke apart when you hear your baby cry

"Oh that's the hungry cry, you got it?" Mark says as he picks up Minsu and pass him over to you.

"Minjung gave me a little spiderman lego thing, I'll show it to you I forgot. Then he hugged me and said thank you for being a cool dad even though I don't know how to cook"

You let out a chuckle, imagining your boy saying it to his dad. "That's why I'm teaching him so one day his own kid can say he's a great cook" you joke

"Hey!"

"What about Jee?"

"She made me a card, I swear she used all the glitter she had. I love it, I really do. I also think I would never get rid of the glitter in my office so we might need to move"

While he's talking, you can see the fond look on his face as he talks about his children. You know how much Mark loves you, there isn't a day in your entire relationship that he forgot to tell you that.

But you know deep in you there's no one on this Earth he loves more than his kids, he'd do anything and everything for them.

And you love him so much for that.

[starkwlkr]

can you please do a part 4 where ruby’s finds about pregnancy and become jealous, but charles and yn only notices when one night charles is kiss and talking with yn’s belly and without them notice she’s going to her room and do a suitcase, when she returns with them she having tears in her eyes and tell them she going to live with her grand mere since them don’t need and want her anymore now they have another baby, and them become all fluffy with charle’s and yn talking to her and ruby’s being the biggest daddy’s girl

sorry abou my english, i hope you understand

jealousy, jealousy | charles leclerc

ruby is so real for this because i almost did this when i was younger (tbh i still get jealous when my mom praises my other cousins because her and i have a complicated relationship ENOUGH TRAUMA DUMPING SORRY)

When Ruby was told she was going to be a big sister, it didn’t go as planned. She was pretty straight forward about it too.

“Why do you need another baby?” She asked her parents one night during dinner. Charles and Y/n were confused. Ruby always talked about all the kids in her class having siblings. “You have me.”

“Ruby, we love you very much, the new baby isn’t going to change that.” Charles spoke to his daughter.

“Okay,” she wasn’t quite convinced yet. She looked at her mom and noticed her stomach was bigger. “Why is your belly big? Did you eat a lot?”

“Ruby Jules, that’s not a nice thing to say.” Charles sighed. He always wondered how his mom managed to raise three boys, he was having trouble with just Ruby. He made a mental note to thank his mom for everything she had done. “Mama’s belly is big because that’s where your baby brother or sister is. You were in mama’s belly too.”

“No, I wasn’t. Uncle Arthur told me I came from the hospital. I saw pictures of mama and me.” Ruby said, grabbing her juice box from the table and drinking from it.

“Yes, we were in the hospital but before that you were in my belly.” Y/n added.

“When does the baby get here?” Ruby wondered. “Do I have to share my room? I don’t like sharing my toys with a baby.”

“The baby isn’t going to stay in your room. They’re going to stay with mama and daddy. They’re going to be too small so we have to take care of them.” That’s when Charles made a mistake.

It took almost three whole years for Ruby to actually stay in her own room. When Charles would put her to sleep, Ruby’s little legs would take her right back to her parent’s room. Ruby wasn’t afraid of the dark or the ‘monsters’ in her closet, she just wanted to hug her daddy while she slept.

“Why does the baby get to sleep in your room? Why can’t I?” Ruby asked.

“Ruby-”

“I’m leaving.” Ruby mumbled and got down from the chair. She angrily stomped away then a few seconds later, she reappeared just to grab her unfinished juice from the table, then she finally left.

“I knew we should’ve waited until tomorrow. We could’ve gotten her a cake or taken her to the park. She hates us, Charles.” Y/n frowned. She picked up Ruby’s plate and walked over to the sink. She started washing the dishes when Charles came up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her small, but visible bump.

“She doesn’t hate us, mon amour. She just doesn’t understand. A couple years from now, her and the baby are going to be best friends.” Charles kissed Y/n’s cheek.

“I hope you’re right.” Y/n put down the washed plate and turned around to face Charles.

“I am right and I’m also right about this one being a boy. He’s going to be a strong, smart boy like his dad.” Charles bent down to place a kiss on Y/n’s belly.

“Really? Because I remember you calling yourself stupid.” Y/n teased. Her hands started playing with Charles’ hair. “And what makes you so sure that baby leclerc is going to be a boy?”

“I just know. We already have a daughter, having a boy would complete our family.” Charles smiled at his wife. “I love you already, baby leclerc.” He looked back at the bump.

Ruby watched from a distance as her dad kissed her mom’s belly multiple times. It broke her heart hearing them call the new baby ‘baby leclerc’. Why couldn’t they name it differently? That’s was her nickname. The baby wasn’t even here and they were already stealing from her. That’s the moment when Ruby decided she wasn’t wanted anymore, not when there was a new baby coming soon.

The four year old walked to her room and started going through her closet, looking for her small princess backpack. When she finally found it, she unzipped it and began to pack her some clothes along with a stuffed animal, her doll, two euros and a book with bedtime stories.

If her parents weren’t going to love her then she was going to the one person she knew would love her no matter what. Pascale lived right across the street from them so Ruby knew exactly where to go. She put on her backpack, grabbed her stuffed animal and walked back to the living room where she found her parents cleaning up before going to bed.

“And where are you going, little one?” Charles quickly noticed the girl with the backpack.

“I’m going to grand-merè house because you don’t love me anymore. She loves me, she gives me ice cream.” Ruby said in a low voice. She didn’t think she was going to cry when she told her mom and dad she was leaving, but here she was, tears coming out her eyes as she stood before them explaining why she was leaving.

“Baby, we will always love you. The new baby isn’t going to replace you. Come here,” Y/n grabbed her daughter’s hand and led her to the sofa so they could have a proper talk. “We love you and the new baby isn’t going to change that. What made you think we didn’t love you anymore?”

Ruby wiped away her tears. “I heard papa call the baby my name. And they’re going to sleep in your room.”

Y/n brought the crying girl into her arms for a hug. “I’m sorry if you felt like we didn’t love you. We love you so much, my pretty girl.”

“I’m sorry for calling your brother or sister baby leclerc. If you want, you can name them. What do want to call the baby?” Charles poked Ruby’s cheek, making the girl laugh.

“I want the baby to be called Steve!” Ruby said confidently.

“Steve? Like the guy from Blues Clues?” Y/n asked.

Ruby nodded. “He’s funny and we sing old macdonald had a farm together!”

“Okay, baby steve it is.” Charles chuckled as he took the girl from his wife’s arms. “I love you, Ruby Jules. You’re my special girl, but don’t tell mama or else she’s going to get jealous.” He whispered to her.

“Okay, daddy.” Ruby nodded, giggling as she did so. “I love you too.” She hugged Charles, her giggles getting louder as Charles tickled her sides.

“Say goodnight to mama … and baby steve. It’s bedtime, baby leclerc.” Charles said.

“Goodnight mama, I love you. Goodnight baby Steve, you’re okay.” Ruby kissed her mom then copied Charles’ actions from earlier and kissed her mom’s belly.

“Goodnight, my pretty girl. I love you too.” Y/n kissed Ruby’s cheek and watched as Charles took a laughing Ruby to her room.

Y/n sighed and looked down at her belly. “Baby Steve.” She chuckled at the name. “Come on Steve, it’s bedtime.”

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor, Family Matters- pt 1

Love Thy Neighbor (FINISHED): Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12.

Love Thy Neighbor Oneshots: Ousted. Title Change.

Two Families Become One (FINISHED): Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

Summary: It's been almost three years since you and your wife got married. Ellie wants a dog or a new sibling- and she is nothing if not determined.

WC: ~2.8k

Melissa Schemmenti is your wife. Your wife. And Ellie is now officially a Schemmenti too. Legally, she’s Melissa’s daughter. Life could not be better. With those two by your side, you know that you’re going to be set for life. After everything that you’ve been through, you’re finally settling into this new married life with the redhead, your job is as steady as it’s ever been, your wife could not love you and your little girl more (you can practically hear her correcting you that Ellie is both of yours now), and Ellie is blossoming into a beautiful little lady. With your sweet soul and Melissa’s strong outlook on life, the now nine, almost ten year old is beginning to have thoughts and opinions of her own and can stand her ground. While you and your wife sometimes wish that she wasn’t trying to stand her ground against the two of you, you couldn’t be more proud.

But now with Ellie growing older, she isn’t as afraid to tell you and her mother exactly what she wants and needs in order to survive.

“Elizabeth,” you sigh as you cook dinner, Melissa’s arms wrapped around your waist. “For the millionth time: we are not getting a dog. You do not need one to survive."

“I do!” the not so little girl protests. “I need one so bad! It gets boring being the only one who wants to run around!”

“We take you to the park almost everyday,” the redhead sighs. “You have plenty of fun with the other kids there.”

“I have plenty of fun playing with Carter’s dog!” Ellie states. “Come on! I think it would be so fun to have a puppy to play with, and it would teach me responsibility! Please, moms!”

“You are already plenty responsible,” you tell your little girl, turning to gestures at the way that she’s already set the table without either of you having to ask. “And we do not have room to house a dog! We barely have room for the three of us.”

“Then I want a baby sister,” the nine year old rebuts.

Both you and Melissa pause at that statement. “What?”

“I told you when you guys were getting married that I either wanted a puppy or a baby sibling,” Ellie says. “It’s been years.”

“Two and a half,” you say slowly.

“Years,” your daughter stresses. “If we can’t get a puppy, then I want a sister.”

Your wife looks to you. Clearly, you’re going to have to talk about all of this later.

“If we don’t have the room for a puppy, what makes you think we’re going to have room for a new baby?” Green eyes meet young ones that match yours.

“You two have also been saying that we’re outgrowing the apartment and want to buy a house. If we did that, we could get a dog, and you could have another baby!” Ellie looks extremely proud of herself for that solution to the issues she was presented with.

“El,” you sigh as you turn off the burner. “Have you been listening in on mine and Mom’s talks lately?”

Your daughter turns sheepish at that. “Maybe.”

“You’re such a troublemaker,” you run a hand over your face. If she heard that conversation, only the lord himself knows what else she’s heard. You just pray she hasn’t heard you and Melissa engaging in more adult activities.

“Maybe,” Ellie shrugs. “But you love me, Momma.” She runs across the room and engulfs you in a hug, as if that will butter you up. And it absolutely does.

“You’re lucky,” you chuckle softly as you kiss the top of her head. 

She’s growing, and she’s only going to continue to grow- you don’t have to lean down as much to hug or kiss her anymore. One of these days, she’s going to be towering over both you and Melissa. But for now, she’s still you’re little girl. And in all honesty, even if and when she is taller than both of you, she’ll still be your little girl. 

“Momma and I would love you even more if you stopped leaving your socks all around the house,” Melissa teases. “If we ever got a dog, you wouldn’t be able to do that anymore.”

“I’ll start picking them up when we get a dog then!” Ellie responds cheekily.

It’s later that night, once you and your wife are positive that Ellie is asleep, that you turn to her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Melissa sighs.

“Look at you like what?” you chuckle as you pull her into your side.

Emerald eyes meet your own. “I’ve seen this look before, and it always means you’re going to give into what your daughter wants.”

“Our daughter,” you tell her pointedly. “And I- I don’t know. She’s kind of right. We have a decent amount of savings- enough to get a nice house with a yard for her to run around in… and whatever else we might want.”

“You’re really thinking about getting a dog?” the woman groans. “Babe. I don’t want to constantly have to carry a lint roller with me to get the fur off of me.”

You just shrug. She doesn’t seem to understand that you’re actually leaning more towards maybe bringing another life into this world.

“If you want to move,” your wife takes a breath. “We can look into it.”

“Really?” you ask hopefully.

“I mean, we are outgrowing the apartment,” the redhead sighs as she begins to lazily draw patterns on your thigh with her fingertip. “And I think it might be nice to be able to barbecue without Pat always trying to steal a burger off of me.”

You laugh at that. “Tomorrow. Right now, I just want to watch trash television with my wife.”

“Real Housewives is not trash!”

It’s about a month later that the Schemmenti family is officially moving out of the apartment complex that you’ve built your little life in. You’re moving into a stunning townhouse in Walnut Hill with four bedrooms, a deck, and a beautiful sunroom. The only thing that’s missing is a backyard, but even then, it’s a residential street, and there’s a park nearby. It still isn’t far from Abbott- you could easily walk to the school if necessary. It’s not far from Center City, and there are Septa stations all around you if you didn’t want to take the car.

It takes another few months for the three of you to settle into your new living space. There are touches and pieces that make it all your own, and you genuinely couldn’t be more thrilled.

Ellie loves it here. Despite not having a private backyard like the three of you had hoped for, your daughter is free to run around with her neighborhood friends, and the amount of children roaming your house at any given moment is a different change of pace.

But there’s still something missing. Elizabeth Schemmenti is determined that she is going to convince you and her mom to either get a dog or have another baby- preferably a sister.

The little girl takes it as far as using your work computer to create two separate PowerPoints in attempts to convince you. She sits you and Melissa down one night to present them.

“Moms, before you tell me no, just… hear me out?” She’s picked that phrase up from the redhead, who raises a brow.

“Elizabeth, we are not-”

“I said hear me out!” Your daughter whines.

You just take a deep breath and set your hand over your wife’s, a silent plea to at least listen to the girl. You both agreed that giving your girl a voice was important in her upbringing. At your silence, Ellie smiles. She taps a few keys and clicks the mouse a few times before turning the laptop towards the two of you. And in big bold letters are the words, ‘Why We Should Get A Dog’.

For a now ten year old, a rising fifth grader, her arguments are solid. You’ll have to sarcastically thank her former fourth grade teacher for helping to raise a child who is a solid argumentative writer. She has an opening, lists her reasonings, actually rebuts a few of the points both you and your wife would have made if she had given you the chance, and then closes. If she were to join the debate team in high school, you wouldn’t be shocked in the slightest.

“I’m very impressed, little girl,” you praise her gently. “You clearly put your heart into this presentation.”

“So does that mean we can get a dog?” Ellie asks hopefully, and she’s bouncing on her toes. For a split second, you remember a five year old Ellie doing the same thing as she tried to convince you to let her have ice cream on a night where she wasn’t meant to.

You glance to Melissa and shrug your shoulders with both brows raised, your bottom lip being worried between your teeth.

“Ellie.”

“Mommy,” your daughter says right back, and- oh, she’s good. She doesn’t call Melissa by that name anymore, feeling as though she’s outgrown it, but she’s bringing it back right now. And it almost works on the redhead.

“I- I don’t know. Momma and I would have to talk about it. And even then, I’m not so sure getting a dog would be a great choice.”

Your daughter nods along thoughtfully for a few seconds before reaching back for the computer. She again taps away at it for a few seconds before facing the screen towards the two of you again. This time, the screen reads, ‘Why Momma Should Have Another Baby’.

Her presentation is very similar to the first one, but you can tell that she wants this one more- and you didn’t think that was possible. Her arguments are even stronger than her pleas for a puppy, there’s passion in her voice, and you know in your own heart that she’s appealing to your own desires- ones that you had made offhandedly as you continue to watch your little girl grow into a not-so-little girl.

Melissa is stone faced through the entire thing, but you can feel the way that her hand unconsciously shifts to lay on your stomach.

This presentation only makes you think about how much you would love to have another child running around- one that would have Melissa from the start, have Ellie as an older sister. To have a child that has unwavering support from both parents from the start, without any rocky story like Ellie does with her absent father, would be… it would be wonderful.

This time, when your daughter is finished presenting, Melissa shifts to look at you the way that you looked at her over the dog situation.

“Momma,” Ellie looks to you. Her puppy dog eyes are strong as she launches herself at you to cuddle. “I really would love to have a little sister. I mean… you and Mommy aren’t going to be around forever, and I want to have someone to be with me throughout my life.”

She then turns to your wife. “And Mommy, I know you and Aunt Kristen have your moments, but you love her more than anything. I want someone like that in my life.”

“That isn’t true,” Melissa chuckles, although she does nod along. “I love you and Momma the most in this world.”

“But after us,” Ellie exasperates. “Please. Just… think about it?”

“About which one?” you ask your daughter curiously. “Because if we are going to do one, we can’t do the other. So… which one would you rather us think about?”

“Baby,” is the ten year old’s immediate response. “I want a baby sister.”

“You know that if Mommy and I have a baby, there’s a chance it could be a boy,” you laugh as you kiss Ellie’s head.

Your daughter shrugs against you. “I guess having a little brother wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

So that night, curled up in bed, you and your wife begin to discuss the idea of adding another child to the family. Ellie’s really sold it to you, and now you just have to get Melissa on board with the idea.

She, of course, has her doubts and trepidations about it. You do everything you can to squash those feelings.

“Baby,” you whisper as you hold her close. “I know that it makes you nervous, but… you’ve raised generations of kids at this point. You’ve done wonderfully with El for the past five years, and you’re only continuing to be a wonderful mother to her.”

“I’m… I don’t know,” Melissa sighs softly. “I mean, I can be a mother to Ellie girl, but what if I fuck up the kid we have together?”

“I fucked up with Ellie constantly,” you admit through a small chuckle. “We’re going to continue fucking up when it comes to El. But we’re going to do it together and get through it together.”

“Yeah,” your wife concedes.

“When we were getting serious, we did talk about having a baby together,” you tell her through a yawn. “And if you really, really don’t want to, we don’t have to. But I think… I think we could do it.”

Melissa just hums and kisses your head. “I think… it isn’t off the table. I would have to look at our finances and all of that, but… give me a bit to think on it?”

You nod into her as you turn to fully hold her now. It’s becoming clearer and clearer to your wife that you’re on the brink of sleep.

“Get some sleep, mi amore,” she tells you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

That night, you dream again of your future. You so clearly see yourself in a hospital bed holding a newborn. Melissa is at your side with tears running down her face, telling you how proud of you she is and that your little girl is beautiful. Ellie is curled up on your bed, looking at the baby with big, loving eyes as she thanks you up and down for giving her a new baby sister. She’s begging you to hold the new baby.

It feels so real that when you wake up because your only daughter is climbing into bed with you that your heart aches. How much you wish that dream was real life. You roll out of Melissa’s arms and pull Ellie into your own, kissing her head a few times.

“Need Momma cuddles?” you whisper.

“Momma cuddles,” your daughter repeats sleepily as she curls up into your figure.

The conversation of expanding your family isn’t brought up for a few days, and then a few weeks, and then a month.

But one day in August, Melissa asks if you’ll go out to dinner with her.

“Yeah,” you smile. “We haven’t had a date night in a while.”

“I know,” your wife chuckles softly. “We’ve been so busy giving Ellie a great summer.”

“I can ask my parents to watch her tonight.”

“Barb and Gerald are already coming over at five to keep an eye on their beloved niece.” You feel a gentle kiss being pressed to the side of your head. 

“You’ve had this planned for a while?”

The woman you married more or less shrugs.

“Auntie Barb! Uncle Ger!” Ellie beams when they come into your home.

“Baby girl!” your coworker sweeps your daughter into her arms. Gerald ruffles the girl’s hair with a smile.

“You be good for Barb, yeah?” you chide your daughter gently.

“I always am, Momma!” Ellie chirps.

“She always is,” Gerald chuckles.

“We’ll be home by nine,” Melissa tells the two of them before grabbing your purse from the couch and guiding you at the door.

Once the two of you place your order and receive your wine, Melissa pulls out a few pieces of paper from her purse, handing them over to you. For a moment, a sense of dread fills your soul. The last time you were handed papers when you weren’t expecting was when Jared served you divorce papers.

“Look at them, hun,” your wife encourages you with a soft smile. “I think you’ll like what you see.”

So you begin to thumb through them. The redhead presents you with your combined finances, a few papers with suggested doctors to go through for artificial insemination, a list of Lamaze classes the two of you should attend if you do indeed have another baby, and the last paper is a list of names for both boys and girls that she favors.

You look to her with tears in your eyes. “Really?” you ask hopefully.

“Really,” Melissa smiles at you, tears now blooming in her own eyes. “The whole being a mother thing terrifies me, but… if I have you by my side, I figure, what can go wrong?”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

[moiravim]

Wolfstar adopting you!! (headcannons)

Fluff!! Parental Wolfstar x Gender Neutral reader/ Harry Potter Sibling Relationship

Remus and Sirius adopted you when you were a tween. They wanted to have a kid without having to deal with all that "baby stuff".

When you turn eleven you get your letter from Hogwarts and they can't be any happier. Not only that, but it turns out that you're in the same year as Harry.

Remus and Sirius have grown from their old ways of teasing the Slytherins and won't care what house you're in. Although, they will get very excited if you are in Gryffindor, and Remus will secretly be extremely happy if you're in Ravenclaw.

If your in Slytherin... They'll initially be shocked, but they really wouldn't be upset at all. Sirius sees you as a "mini Reggie" and cries over this at least once a month. It makes him so much more protective of you. Remus will be very understanding with you and never mentions you being placed in Slytherin. Just know they still love you so so much.

If your in Gryffindor... They will go crazy. Your literally a next generation marauder! They probably threw a party to celebrate. And the fact that Harry is a Gryffindor too? Sirius expects the two of you to become best friends and be the "new marauders" (you and Harry will probably end up becoming friends anyways). They're both just so happy!

If your in Hufflepuff... They'll get so excited. They love all your Hufflepuff friends! They genuinely think that You being in Hufflepuff is what's best for you. They just know you'll be so happy with all the other Hufflepuffs. Although beware, because they may tease you a little.

If your in Ravenclaw... They will be so proud of you! Remus is so happy your a Ravenclaw. He initially wanted to be in Ravenclaw and he's just so happy you get to be. Sirius still thinks that Ravenclaw is the "smart house", but you're the smartest person he knows, so... I guess it works out?

Saturday nights three of you have "family time dinner". You all eat a nice meal at the table and then watch movies together or go out and do something fun.

They like to meet your friends and will let them come over often.

In third year Harry finds out that Sirius is his godfather. Things change a lot then. Sirius feels guilty for not allowing Harry to come live with him sooner, but he honestly thought Harry would be better off with the Dursleys. Sirius gives Harry the option to move in with him, and Harry accepts.

The two of you slowly build up a sibling-like relationship, and soon enough the two of you are inseparable.

Your happy family of three is now a happy family of four. And you couldn't be any happier about it. Now, when your dads are busy working during the summer, you and Harry can go out and have fun.

The two of you often get into mischief, running about Diagon Alley. Your dads are just so happy that they get to raise two mini-marauders.

[shirefantasies]

hello :) im new on your page so im not extremely familiar with what you're going through but I'd still like to wish you a smooth recovery before saying anything else.

considering your condition you can absolutely take as long as you need on this request or just not do it at all but i just NEEDED to get this idea off my chest

so last night i read your LOTR characters and how many children they would have hcs and now i absolutely cannot get the idea of frodo with a little girl out of my head :(

just imagine a hobbit toddler with frodos curls like running around and being silly ☹️☹️☹️

anyways if you could elaborate on that or just some hcs of frodo as a dad in general would be so greatly appreciated :)

i wish you a smooth recovery and i hooe that you're alright

Thank you so much! I'm sorry this is an OLLLLLDDDD request and I can't remember when this was originally put in but it would be so funny if it was pre-emergency room trip 😂 but no matter what all healthy here finally 🥰 I hope it's ok that I decided to expand on this a little for everyone!

The Hobbits as Dads (Wife!Reader)

Frodo

✧ As I've mentioned, Frodo wants a smaller family, so you end up with two children, a daughter first, then a son. Both of whom just love their sweet father to pieces!

✧ Frodo and your daughter especially are just joined at the hip. She’ll sit on his desk swinging her legs while he writes or illustrates, asking him what he’s doing until he’s basically reading to her and working all at once!

✧ She chases him around the meadows, giggling as he lets himself almost be caught only to turn around and swoop her up into the air with a wide smile of his own!

✧ Frodo gets so soft whenever he holds your son, who looks just like you! Your daughter has his eyes, but your son is the spitting image of you and he just loves it. He could watch you just sitting there with your little boy in his arms watching forever, but in the end his feet carry him right to your sofa to snuggle in, your little girl on his heels!

✧ Dances with your daughter at every party, even when she is little and has to stand atop his feet as they twirl.

✧ Every morning Frodo wakes your children up with a kiss to the forehead and it almost brings tears to his eyes sometimes at the way your little boy absolutely leaps into his arms to be carried out to breakfast, the biggest smile on his little face, so reminiscent of his beloved wife's.

Sam

✧ The absolute king of making all his children feel heard despite having so many! He's invested in so many hobbies, but the children make him the dearest things, so it's ever so worth it.

✧ For example, Elanor pens the most amazing tales and Sam is always talking about her way with words. Saying how she certainly didn't get it from him! It must be from her brilliant mother. Having heard stories of Gandalf's fireworks, Hamfast works tirelessly to unlock their secret, creating his first little sparklers just in time for his father's birthday party! Sam tears up a little at this.

✧ The father who carries as many kids at a time as he physically can. One hanging around his neck, one on his back, and he strains to lift the ones dangling from his arms, too.

✧ So sweet whenever his children cry that they go to him just as often as you! Takes them in his arms and always has the kindest, most uplifting words ready.

✧ Has a tree, bush, or patch of flowers named for and aided in tending by each child as they chose their favorite.

✧ All the ladies of the Shire giggle at the sight of Sam wrangling three little ones at the market, trying so hard to keep his words gentle as he's holding another of their siblings and they want to put their hands on everything. "But that's simply not polite, now is it?"

Merry

✧ He’s always wanted at least one son and one daughter, and let me tell you: his daughter will have him wrapped around her finger.

✧ Even if she looks just like you, your daughter has Merry’s smile and as a baby, she mirrors his expressions exactly. You catch him playing peekaboo with her all the time and making faces just to see them spreading across her soft cheeks.

✧ Making toys for his kids becomes a passion of Merry’s. He spends hours carving a little wooden sword for your son that looks as close to the one gifted to him from his fellow soldiers of Rohan.

✧ The dad who takes his kids on outings so mama can have a break! After making you breakfast, Merry runs off with the little ones to go beery picking and brings them back a complete mess of dirt and juice splatters, but also grinning excitedly and holding up brimming baskets of their harvest.

✧ Congratulates your daughter the first time an angry mother complains to him about her slapping her son, who had pushed her down. “That’s right. Don’t let anyone treat you like that.” Turning to you, Merry grins, eyes all aglow with admiration. “Hear that? She’s a fighter!”

✧ Bedtime is a whole production. Bath time, a story, time laying with each child to talk about anything they want, tucking them in…and you can pry it all from Merry’s cold dead hands.

Pippin

✧ The dad who thinks all of his children are so neat, no ifs, ands, or buts, and is best friends with them all. Also the proudest father who cannot stop talking about them all into any remotely available set of ears.

✧ Your firstborn son is Pippin’s best friend, running as soon as he can walk and toddling after his father anywhere he can go, and Pippin always welcomes his company!

✧ Lifts his young ones up onto the Green Dragon tables too and lets them show off their moves or simply holds them while he jumps a little more gently! Your older son is jigging at his side, your second son leaping, and your little girl is on his hip all while Merry and his son dance next door and you watch with the baby in your arms!

✧ Encourages his children’s off-the-wall imaginations with all sorts of questions about their little worlds and creatures and of course taking on some of their roles when they need him for a game.

✧ Chaotic apple picking trips with the whole family, which comes to total you, Pippin, and all six of the kids running around like beheaded chickens between the trees and trying to show you the best apple! The oldest boys start tossing them back and forth like a ball, but they also help you bake pies by corralling the little ones and making the process fun for them. Pippin brings the baby in and holds him, teasingly pretending like he’s going to let his little hands steal your apple pieces.

✧ The father who learns every goofy magic trick to make the kids laugh. Always pulling something from behind their ears.

Bilbo

✧ Had you asked him only a handful of years prior, he would have said no children in the house, thank you, but here he is now having tea parties and making boats to float in the stream with your daughter.

✧ The most devoted dad, if a little overprotective. Always hovering behind her, hands raising over her curly little head the moment any possible danger could strike.

✧ Teaches his daughter all the proper tea etiquette after he buys her the perfect little set, fretting a bit when she spills but grinning so proudly as she pours him his little cuppa! They have tea parties all the time and Bilbo addresses all her dolls by name. She insists, after all.

✧ He also takes her on a lot of “adventures” that mostly consist of walking through the woods on the edges of the Shire and picnicking on bread and cold meat and cheese from your larder alongside the fruits they pick.

✧ Is very disconcerted when your daughter insists that not only is she going to visit the Lonely Mountain with her papa someday, she is also going to marry a dwarf. Guess she really enjoyed his stories!

✧ Your daughter knows how to do everything. Mend handkerchiefs? Definitely. Finally take that crack at the plumbing? She's right there with her father. Botany? But of course, for how else will they know what all the books they read are describing! Fighting? You both are teaching her that. Your daughter will never be afraid to take on anything with you two for her parents!

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[kteezy997]

Daddy’s Boy- Part Ten

Warnings: mention of sex, cum, and impregnating, otherwise just lots of fluff!

two years later

It was finally here. The week of your wedding to the love of your life. You were officially going to be Timothee's wife and share the same last name as your son. This was a time that you thought only dreams were made of.

You had been showered with gifts and hugs and sweet wishes from family and friends. Your soon to be mother and sister-in-law threw your bridal shower. It was a beautiful day, though it was strange to have the party be all about you. You were used to spending your days working and hanging out with Theo and Timmy, which you loved, but it was special to be treated like such a princess by all the women in your life.

Your bachelorette party was another rarity for you: a night out on a party bus with all of your friends, drinking and dancing the night away like some college kids. It was a lot of fun, but you were even happier to see Timmy when he picked you up at a random bar at the end of it all, at nearly two in the morning. His parents had graciously agreed to keep Theo overnight so Timmy could collect you after the party bus. You ran to your fiancé and leaped into his arms, ready to go home and fall asleep under the covers with him.

That night, he helped you get out of your dress and into your cozy pajamas as well as taking your makeup off for you. You were too drunk and silly to do it yourself.

"Hold still, y/n, I can't get it all if you don't stay still." he'd say, wiping your eye with a cotton pad as you giggled.

When you finally go into bed, you snuggled up with the blankets, closed your eyes and felt his lips kiss your forehead.

"I'm glad you had a good time tonight, baby." Timmy cooed.

……

Your wedding itself was set to be big and beautiful, but still somewhat private, as private as the wedding of an A-List actor could be. There would one hundred guests, but your wedding party was small. The most important thing to you and Timmy was to have your family and closest friends there. It wasn't a social event for paparazzi to find or for other celebrities to show off their designer dresses and suits.

Theo was probably the most excited that his parents were going to be married. You were already a family, but the wedding was a time to celebrate it being official. And Theo figured this was the next step towards getting a new sibling. He wanted a little brother or sister to play with and look after so badly.

As the big day drew closer, you started to feel different. You were nauseous at times, and your breasts started to hurt. With all the planning and excitement of the wedding going on, you didn't pay much attention to how you were feeling. But you finally realized that you hadn't had a period in two or three months.

You didn't want to cause a fuss with Timmy and Theo, just in case you weren't actually pregnant. You didn't want them to get excited over nothing. You wanted to find out for yourself. Because maybe it was just a fluke, maybe your stress level had messed up your hormones instead of a pregnancy.

The boys were busy playing video games, so you ordered a few different pregnancy tests from CVS Pharmacy online and had them delivered to your door.

..........

That night after Theo had gone to bed, you told Timmy to come into the bedroom. You waited for him, and he had a silly grin on his face when he walked in.

"Baby, what's going on?" he smirked, tilting his head as he looked at you.

You were nervous, not because of his reaction, but because of the news being so close to the wedding. Everything was all mushed together and there was just such a feeling of unknown, which was scary.

"Come here, sit down." you said to him, gesturing toward the bed.

Timmy did as you told him to do, biting his lip as he sat down and said, "Is it sexy time, my love?" He put his arms out to you.

You let him softly grab you and pull you close. You petted his hair, smoothing it back as he gazed up at you lovingly. "Well, I wanted to give you something first." you said. You hoped that your nerves weren't causing you to shake or tremble to the point of him noticing. You really didn't want him to worry about you.

"Oh, you don't have to get me anything. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted. I love you so much, y/n.” he smiled wider, “I can’t wait for you to be wife." he replied, hugging you tighter.

"I got you something anyway." you backed away from his embrace, "Um, close your eyes and hold out your hands." You watched him as he followed your instructions. Though he had his eyes closed, he still kept a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Should I be scared?" he asked as you had walked away to pick up one of the pregnancy tests from the en-suite bathroom.

You giggled, "No, I don't think so." You walked back over to him, placing the stick onto his palms. "Okay, look now."

Timmy opened his eyes, squinted at the pregnancy test in his hands. You watched him as he read the small print on it, which read, “pregnant.”

He looked up at you, wide eyed. He took a deep breath and shuddered softly; you could see a glimpse of fear in his eyes. After the initial reaction, he stood and grabbed you, hugging you tightly. He whispered in your ear, "My love, we’re gonna have another baby. I'm so happy, I could just hold you forever."

You ran your hands up his back, squeezing him back affectionately. "Oh, please do. I love you, baby." you cooed. As you pulled away from the hug, you put your hands on his cheeks, "Are you okay? It's normal to be nervous." you said, looking in his eyes, trying to gauge his mental state.

Timmy let out a little sigh, nodding. But he looked down at your stomach, placing his hand on you there.

You felt an instant warmth from his touch, and somehow in that very moment, you knew that everything was going to be okay. It would be more than okay, it would be perfect, your own kind of perfect.

"Our second child, I can't believe it." he said lowly, rubbing his palm over your tummy. "Well," he looked at you with the smirk you knew all too well, "I can believe it, but still, this is such a crazy feeling, babe." He then pressed his forehead to yours.

You saw his bottom lip quiver ever so slightly, then a single tear fell from his eye. "Aw, my sweet boy." you wiped his tear, "Don't worry. You're an amazing father. This baby will love you and obsess over you just like Theo does." You kissed Timmy's cheek for reassurance.

"I know, I know we'll be fine. It's just," he looked down at the ground, "I feel like since I met Theo when he was three, that was kind of an easy age, you know? But a baby is totally different, like there's so many ways to screw it up."

You put your fingers under his chin, forcing him to look in your eyes. "Don't think like that. I don't believe that there is such a thing as an "easy age" when it comes to raising kids. It's all hard, and we will both screw up, but it will be worth it. You're going to be wonderful with this baby."

Timmy smiled softly, kissed you, then said, "That you babe, you always know how to make me feel better. Theo is gonna freak out! We have to go tell him." he grabbed your hand, trying to pull you out of the bedroom.

"No, no!" you squeezed his hand but kept your feet planted though he was pulling you. "He's in bed and it's still really early in the pregnancy. We have plenty of time to tell him." you insisted.

"Okay, you're right." he said, calming himself. "Should we wait until after the wedding to tell him?"

"Yeah, I think so. I love him, but I don't trust him to keep it to himself." you giggled.

"Yeah, he'll be too excited, he'd have to tell someone." he grinned, pulling you into him again. "Hmm, I wonder if it happened on Valentine's Day. We really went all out that night." He leaned in, nuzzling his nose onto yours.

You laughed, "That's definitely possible. But I mean, you don't like wearing condoms, so it really could have happened anytime."

Timmy hummed, put his head down into your chest. He started to kiss your neck. "You make a good point." He spoke in between kisses. "You like that I put another baby in you? You like that my cum is gonna make you so big and round and pretty."

He was practically purring as the words danced into your ears. You grew weak in his arms. "Yes, I'll have as many babies as you want, Timmy."

He suckled on your throat, stopping briefly to say, "Oh, don't worry, I plan on getting you pregnant again and again and again. The world will know how good I fuck you."

You felt his lips on your skin as they turned up into a grin. You giggled, putting your arms around your man. Your feet left the ground for a moment as Timmy picked you up and took you over to the bed.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @briefkittenearthquake @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie

[artssslut2]

Pinky Promise

Art x Lily x Reader

Summary: It’s Lily’s birthday and Art wants to give his little girl the best day ever.

It was the night before Lily’s birthday and you and Art were staying up extra late to get ready. Tashi had started coaching three new players since Art retired. She had been gone a lot for work after they got divorced, Lily missed her a lot but would call her everyday. Lily loved you though, she always did. Art waited a while before letting her meet you he wanted to make sure you were the one first. Once you met Lily and he saw how the two do you got along he put a ring on your finger almost immediately. Lily was the flower girl at your wedding and was beyond happy about getting you as a bonus mom. You were younger than Art, he knew that you wanted more kids, he didn’t mind that idea he actually loved it. Lily also loved it, she had been begging for a sibling since the day you got married. And now here you were eight months pregnant with another little girl. This was your first time around but Arts second, he was more relaxed since he had been down this road before, it was calming for you. Art loved that he was around for everything that was something he couldn’t do with Lily.

Lily was Turing eight and Art was of course going all out for his little girl. Art missed Lilys third birthday because of a match and he has never been able to forgive himself, he knew she wouldn’t remember but it still made him sad. So now he always made the day special.

Lily was a dancer, she had played tennis for a little bit but she didn’t really like it, tashi was mortified but art was relieved. He didn’t want her to be put under all that pressure. After quitting tennis Lily started taking ballet classes and she loved them, she was an amazing dancer easily the best in her class. Art never wanted to put pressure on her, he wanted her to be a normal kid but dance became the thing she loved the most, she wanted to dance all the time. So Art had been working non stop on her own dance room in the basement. He put in dance flooring, mirrors and a ballet bar, he lined the walls with all her trophy’s and medals and old costumes. Seeing Art be such an amazing dad made you love him even more, you couldn’t wait to see him become a dad again.

“Do you think she’ll like it?” Your husband asked hanging some streamers by the door, you looked at him and smiled

“Of course she will. She’s gonna love it.” You wrapped your arms around his torso he leaned against you a little. You noticed Art seemed off “you okay baby?” You asked softly. He took a deep breath

“Mhm. I just don’t want her to feel left out… when she was a baby I wasn’t there as much as I wanted to be. Now with this baby I will be here, all the time. I’ll never miss a birthday or anything, what if she thinks it’s because I don’t love her as much as her sister?” Art asked looking at the floor putting his hands in his pockets. You waited a minute, you knew he struggled with self doubt about fatherhood and it broke your heart because he was the greatest dad.

“She won’t Art I promise. We won’t let that happen. Look at all you are doing for her… everyday you are showing her how much you love her. She’s smart and she knows the baby might take up more of your time but she knows you don’t love her any less. Neither will I, I love her more than anything Art just like she’s my own, okay?” You told him grabbing his hands, Art looked at you with glassy eyes and gave you a little smile. Art loved you so much. He never thought he would meet someone after Tashi but somehow he lucked out and met the love of his life. He knew you would be a great mom to your own children, but Lily was also your baby.

“I love you.” He said kissing your head and pulling you in. You smiles against his chest. “alright let’s go to bed we have a big day tomorrow.” He took your hand to lead you out of the room.

The next morning you both woke up early so you could be awake before Lily. Art had the whole day planned out for her. You both waited downstairs for her to wake up. Finally you hear little feet running down the stairs, Art walked to them

“Do I hear my Eight year old?” Lily giggles jumping into her father’s arms and giving him a big hug, “oh my gosh you look a year older do you feel a year older?” He asked holding her up and dramatically examining her,

“No!” She laughed trying to catch her breath, seeing their interaction made you laugh

“Happy birthday Lily Pad.” You told her joining them in the living room with a gift bag,

“Thanks, what’s that?” She asked staring at the pink bag pointing at it

“We wanted to give you one of your gifts now so that you can use it today.” You smiled handing her the gift bag and kissing her head

“Can I open it now!?” She asked very loudly bouncing up and down, you and Art laughed and nodded. She ripped the tissue paper away and dug into the bag. You had gotten her a new outfit, Lily loved fashion and dressing up. It’s how you first bonded, you work in fashion it’s actually how you met Art.

“Oh my gosh! It’s so cute!” She shrieked holding the light pink romper up, there was also a matching bow and shoes in the bag.

“You wanna go put it on?” You laughed moving her bed head from her face,

“Yes! Thank you y/n!” She said jumping into your arms squeezing you so tight then running up to her bedroom to change. You looked at art and he had the biggest smile on his face, a smile he only got when he watched his two favorite people.

“Your the best” he said coming over and kissing you,

“It’s easy when she’s the best.” You smiled

“Y/n! Can you come do my hair!?” Lily shouted from upstairs, you both laughed and you headed up to help her.

Once Lily was dressed and had her hair done she was asking about breakfast. You told her that she should ask her dad so you went to your bedroom to find him. He came out of the bedroom and showed off his shirt to his girls,

“What do you think, how do I look Lily Pad?” He asked doing a spin. He was wearing a shirt that said “girl dad” on it, you and Lily got it for him when you found at you were having a girl.

“It’s perfect!’ She giggled, she loved getting her dad clothes you both would often go shop for him together.

“Lily we have two more things for you before breakfast, the first isss…” he dramatically held out his words to build suspense

“Daddy! What is it daddy!” She asked bursting with excitement Art pointed at you so you could finish his sentence.

“We are giving you a yes day. Whatever you want to do we have to say yes too.” You smiled presenting the offer to the little girl. Her eyes lit up and she looked so happy. You could see wheels turning in her brain thinking of what she wanted to ask first

“Can we get Starbucks for breakfast?!” She asked enthusiastically, of course that was her first request. Art looked at you like he was thinking of what to say

“Hmmmm…” he said dramatically like he might say no “of course we can baby.” Lily laughed “but before we go we have one more thing.” He said reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small wrapped box.

“What is it daddy?” She asked scrunching her eyebrows just like her dad does

“Open it” he handed it to her and she tipped it open, she gasped. It was a necklace from Tiffany’s that had her birthstone on it, it was way too expensive for an eight year old but art didn’t care.

“It’s so pretty daddy! Thank you so much I love it!” She said wrapped herself around him. She looked at the box again

“But wait. There’s earrings too I don’t have mine pierced.” She said confused

“Well we thought since your eight now…” you told her you didn’t need to finish she knew

“No way are you serious?!” She looked back and fourth between you and art and you both nodded. She squealed and jumped up and down then kept into Arts arms and held onto him as tightly as a little girl could, he laughed enjoying this moment.

The day went on perfectly, you loved watching Art be a father, you loved that you could share the joy and be lilys bonus mom. When Lily got her ears pierced Art was more nervous than she was. Lily was trying to be brave and had a very focused look on her face while she sat in the chair alone.

“Are you nervous?” He asked his daughter

“No… but can you hold my hand daddy?” She asked timidly, Art chuckled

“I’ll do you one better.” He told her lifting her up and placing her on his lap. You filmed as she got her ears pierced she didn’t even flinch. You showed Lily a picture so she could see and she loved them

“I look beautiful!” She gasped

“Yes you do baby.” You smiled

Lily picked her favorite place to eat dinner of course.

“Can you guys say yes to one more thing?” Lily asked while eating her Mac and cheese “can I pick the babies name?” She smiled giving her best puppy dog eyes, you and Art looked at each other knowing you would have to say no but wanted to humor her

“Hmm… well what are you thinking Lily pad?” You and Art had had a list of names but hadn’t been able to decide, you wanted to go with an L name to match Lily.

“Luna.” She said confidently “Then we can call her Lou Lou.” She pled her case

“Was that your favorite name on the list?” You asked her, she nodded. You looked at Art

“We will think about it I promise.” Art smiled holding out his pinky, she smiled back giving him a pinky promise. You did really like the name, it would be special if Lily chose it.

Once you all got home you gave Lily what seemed like a thousand presents, pink and purple wrapping paper covered your living room floor. Lily was a very grateful little girl she didn’t act spoiled in the least, even if she was a little spoiled by her father. After she opened her last gift and blew out her birthday candles Art stood up,

“Lily we have one more gift for you.” You saw lilys eyes open wide

“Another one?” She asked surprised,

“Your daddy worked veryyyy hard on it” you added

“Follow us okay Lily pad”

You led the little girl to the basement, the last few months you told her she wasn’t allowed down there because they were doing renovations, she quickly saw that there was nothing new and looked confused then you covered her eyes

“Since you have been working so hard in dance class we wanted to surprise you with a… “ Art opened the door slightly to what used to be one of the guest bed rooms “dance room!” He threw the door opened and you uncovered lilys eyes

“WHAT?!” She yelled running in the little girl was speechless she looked like she could cry, she was quiet then hugged you both

“This is the best gift in the whole entire world.” She said squeezing tightly, Art kissed your cheek while in the group hug,

“Well why don’t you teach me some moves?” Art laughed, Lily ran to the middle with her dad. For the next hour Lily taught, well tried to teach her dad her new ballet routine. It was adorable. She wanted you to learn it too but Art told her when your center of gravity was back to normal she can but not right now.

Art was a great tennis player but he was definitely not a ballerina like his daughter. You laughed so hard at the pair watching the routine you almost peed your pants. It was such a perfect day with your little family.

Now Art was putting Lily to bed. It was past her bedtime but since it was her birthday it was fine. Lily called Tashi on Arts phone like she did every night then Art read her a story, Art kisses her head and was about to leave when she asked

“Today was the best day. But daddy my wish didn’t come true.” She said frowning a little. Art furrowed his brows and knelt back down

“How come Lily pad? What was your wish?”

“I wished that the baby would be born today.” She sighed, Art smiled a little. He was slightly relieved that she didn’t say it was something he could’ve done.

“That would have been pretty cool baby. But the baby needs to grow a little bit more before she can come out remember?” He asked softly stroking her hair. She nodded

“Yeah… I just really want to meet her it’s taking sooo long.” She told her dad and he smiled, he thought about how long nine months would seem to an eight year old

“I know Lily pad I wanna meet her oo. But she will be here so soon, before you know it… I promise.” He told her holding his pinky out again

“Daddy do you think I’ll be a good big sister?” She asked looking at him with her big eyes, his heart melted

“I think you might just be the best big sister in the entire world.” He smiled kissing her head, and He believed that completely.

Art got ready for bed then joined you under the covers pulling you close, you had been thinking about what Lily said earlier

“You know Luna is pretty cute.” You whispered Turing over to look at Art

“Yeah?” He asked sitting up on his forearm

“Yeah.” You nodded

“Then Luna it is.” He grinned ear to ear putting a hand on your stomach then leaning down to kiss it. What a great day.

[meetmypointlessaddiction]

Rescuing Ellie: Part One

This is the first chapter of a new series I'm hoping to start in which Ellie is fostered and then eventually adopted by the Miller family. I can't promise when updates will be but I'm hoping it won't be too long until the next one is posted, enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of trauma, Joel and Sarah being too cute, Ellie possibly being neurodivergent is touched on slightly, childhood trauma, I think that's everything, Sarah calls reader 'mom'

Words: 1,9k

Prompt: You, Joel and Sarah and made aware of Ellie’s existence as your little family prepares to add one more

Joel was pacing around the living room, Sarah sitting on the couch with a book in hand sharing a smirk with you. “Dad! Sit down. If they walk in and see you pacing like a mad man they’re gonna turn the opposite way. Relax.” Sarah told him sternly and he nodded, making you laugh. Sarah had always been able to make him do as he was told. 

“Is the bathroom clean? Did we vacuum the kitchen?” 

“Joel, baby. I love you but please shut the hell up. Everything is clean, everything is tidy but the house still looks homely and welcoming, ok? The social worker would be stupid to think that our home wasn’t good enough to bring another child into.” You said to him and he nodded, taking a seat next to Sarah and letting his arm extend around the back of the couch as she leant on his shoulder. 

“What book are you reading kiddo?” He asked and she smiled. 

“To Kill a Mockingbird. Miss Garcia recommended it so mom took me to get it from the library on Friday.” She explained and Joel shot you a small smile.

Sarah wasn’t your biological child but that never stopped the three of you from acting like a true family. You had met Joel in a bar when Sarah was just 4 and, after a few dates, you finally got to meet his little girl and the pair of you were on your honeymoon a year later. Giving birth had never been something you had wanted to do, stories from friends and family completely putting you off the idea, but Sarah was desperate for a sibling and you knew, deep down, that Joel would love to have another kid in the house.

A knock on the door had Joel shooting to his feet, almost falling into the table, as he walked to the door to let the woman. “Mr and Mrs Miller, it’s good to see you again. And I take it this is the Sarah I got to know so much about?” She asked with a cheeky smile and Sarah laughed. 

“Yeah my dad can get carried away with his bragging.” She said and Joel blushed, you squeezing his hand before he stepped aside to let the woman in. 

“Well, I’m sure you're aware of why I’m here. I’m Courtney, the social worker who’s been asked to come and have a look around, make sure everything is up to scratch and walk you through the next few steps.” She clarified and the three of you nodded, Joel gesturing for her to take a seat and then taking his seat back next to Sarah who was laying her book on the coffee table. 

“To Kill a Mockingbird? You like reading?” Courtney asked Sarah who nodded quickly. 

“I was always read bedtime stories from dad or my uncle Tommy when he lived with us and then mom would help me read the harder books because those too are hopeless when it comes to words with more than three syllables.” She teased and Courtney laughed while Joel looked at Sarah with faux offence while you snorted into your hand. 

“Well I can already tell that the three of you have a lovely dynamic going on. We’ve already discussed that it is your intention to foster a child and then adopt once the child is settled, correct?” She asked and Joel nodded. 

“We don’t think it’s fair for a kid to get used to living with us and then we just change our routine once another kid comes along, you know?” You said and she nodded. 

“Well, would you be able to show me around?” She asked and you nodded, Sarah opting to stay seated while you and Joel led her around your home. 

“That room at the back is mine and Joel’s, Sarah’s is on the left and then the room on the right is obviously the spare room. We’ve left it pretty plain so that we can decorate it to their tastes but the room design is their choice.” You explained and she nodded. 

“And you said you have two bathrooms?” She asked and Joel nodded. 

“There’s the ensuite in the master bedroom and then the bathroom on your left is the bathroom that Sarah uses.” Joel told her and she nodded with a bright smile. 

“It seems you’re all quite prepared for a new arrival. I believe there is someone in our system who would benefit greatly from being included in your family. If you’d like, I can set up a meeting for the pair of you to meet her and then another a few days later where you can bring Sarah along so the girls can get to know each other a little bit?” Courtney suggested and you and Joel both nodded quickly. 

“That’d be great.” 

“If we go and take a seat, I can go over some of her details and we’ll see what you think.” 

Sitting back on the couch, Courtney pulled out a folder and Sarah peeked over the book. “Someone that eager to come live with us?” She asked and Joel rolled his eyes, nudging her slightly. 

“Not when they find out you’re here.” He teased and she scoffed. 

“Your old man grunts when you get up off the couch would be enough to scare anyone away. Surprised mom didn’t escape when she could.” She threw back at him and you looked to both of them. 

“That’s enough with the pair of you, let’s listen to what Courtney can tell us about the girl ok?” You said and they both nodded, Joel smiling gently at you. 

“So, her name’s Ellie, she’s 10 and she’s pretty mature for her age. Became independent at a young age and is generally intelligent if that’s something that interests you. She does have slight trauma which can cause occasional nightmares and she can be generally nervous around new people but is fiercely protective once she gets to know someone.” Courtney said and Joel sat up straighter. 

“Sarah, you wanna go to your room for a little honey? We’ll call you back in once we go over some of the finer details?” He asked her and she nodded, collecting her book from the table and heading to her room. You looked at him confused and he cleared his throat. 

“When you say trauma, are we allowed to know what that trauma is?” He asked and you looked at him shocked. Was this going to be a dealbreaker for him? “Woah no not because of anything bad. I just meant would there be anything that we could do to make the transition a little easier. Like is it better to have her meet us one at a time or maybe Sarah first or-.” You breathed a sigh of relief as he explained himself. “Kids have trauma, it doesn’t put me off fostering her just because she’s had a shitty past. I just don’t want her to feel like she has to feel a certain way once she joins us, you know?” He said more to you than to Courtney and you nodded. 

“It’s probably better that she meets the pir of you first. Ellie’s mother died during childbirth and no one knew who her father was which meant that she was placed straight into foster care. She’s had some really bad experiences with foster homes which is why we are extremely careful of who we place her with. She struggles with men quite a lot which is why we always ensure that there are more women than men in whichever home she goes to. The best thing you can do for her is to just be yourselves. She has an extremely good judge of character so she’ll see straight through whatever facade you try to put up.” Courtney encouraged and you and Joel nodded, you watching as your husband took in all the information he could. 

“The only other guy that’s ever really here is my brother but most of the time his wife and son are with him. Would that be ok once she gets settled?” He asked and Courtney nodded. 

“As much normalcy as possible will help her settle. She doesn’t like to be a burden so feeling like your routine is being changed for her will make her feel awkward. We’ve had many fosters change their mind with Ellie due to some of her personality traits.” Courtney revealed and you frowned. 

“Personality traits? What do you mean?” You asked and she frowned slightly. 

“Many of the fosters believe that Ellie may be neurodivergent which could lead to some of her other traits such as her short temper and her objections to certain food textures or smells. She also struggles to divert from certain routines and some families found that hard to adjust to and it was making Ellie restless. It should also be noted that Ellie isn’t the ‘typical girl’ that a lot of families are searching for. She has very strong tastes in the clothes she wears and how she is viewed and will refuse to cooperate if it goes against what she wants.”

“We don’t expect her to stick to any kind of mould. As long as she’s her own person we don’t care.” Joel said and you nodded. “Would she be interested in any kind of sports? Sarah plays soccer so maybe signing her up for that would be a good idea?” He asked and Courtney shook her head with a smile. 

“Ellie is quite small for her age so she gets pushed around a lot whenever it comes down to sports or physical activity. Her favourite hobbies are music and drawing but I’m sure she’ll tell you all about that once you get to meet her. Once you find a topic she enjoys, the girl can talk for hours.” She said and Joel’s eyes lit up, your husband’s love for music shining through and Courtney seemed to notice. 

“Well, I can see you’re clearly excited to meet her so I’ll let you guys talk it over and once I’ve spoken to Ellie I’ll email with a date for you to come down to the home and meet her if that’s everything you had to ask.” You both shook your heads and Joel called for Sarah who bid goodbye to Courtney and then the three of you flopped onto the couch, Joel’s head dropping into Sarah’s lap as she shot him a stink eye for interrupting her reading. 

“Well that seemed to be a success. I can’t wait to meet her.” Joel said and you chuckled, Sarah just resting her book on his face and continuing to read.

“I say we order pizza to celebrate.” You suggested and Sarah cheered while Joel grumbled. 

“I hope it’s your money that’s paying for it.” He said and you and Sarah both burst into laughter. 

“Of course not. Don’t you wanna provide for your girls my manly husband. Inn’t that what all you Texas men are built for?” You teased and he scoffed, laughing as you kissed his cheek. 

“Make sure to order a ham and pineapple for the monster bookworm.” He told you and you nodded. 

“If anybody’s order was going to be forgotten it’d be yours dad. Just accept that mom loves me more.” Sarah said, prodding his cheek and you smiled. 

“What is it you want Joel?” You asked sweetly and grunted. 

“All I ever want is cheese and it’s always forgotten.” 

“Shut up you giant man baby.” You pushed his face into the couch cushion and he pouted. 

“Thought I was your manly husband?” He asked with a slight smirk showing on his face until Sarah hit him with her book.

“Stop flirting with my mom. You’re ruining my appetite.”