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oneforthemunny · 9 months ago

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autumn changes |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you and eddie take bea to the farmer's market to pick out a pumpkin.

still on my fall shit lol. feeling hormonal and longing for a child, so a domestic soft dad!mafia!eddie x mom!reader fic was in order bc i said so lol. very fluffy and sweet.

“What about the big white ones?” You pointed across the aisle, stepping towards the wooden crate filled with ‘Cinderella Pumpkins’ as the chalk sign read.

“Oh, look at these Bea, you know what they call these?” You cooed at the little toddler, bouncing her lightly on your hip, her cheek pressed to your shoulder, knuckling her eyes sleepily. The three year old was still a little grumpy about being woken up from her car ride nap.

“Baby,” Eddie hissed, closing in on you, eyes scanning the crowds. “Stay close to me, alright?”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re right here, Eddie.” Your tone clipped, shoulders tight with irritation. You knew his protectiveness came from a place of love, pure adoration and devotion for you and Bea both. Still, it was irritating.

Eddie’s narrowed gaze pierced through you, even behind his darkened sunglasses. A tattooed hand sliding over your waist, squeezing your hip lightly in warning, the same way he used to when you two had first started dating. It sent a chilling thrill of excitement to your core, glancing over your shoulder at him with a small grin.

“Look, Bumble Bee, these are called Cinderella Pumpkins.” Your voice lifted in a soft coo that had Eddie’s chest tightening with affection.

“Princess?” Bea’s eyes lit up, perking up from her sullen state at the mention of one of her beloved Disney Princesses. Though she was favoring Jasmine these days, she was still a fan of any of them.

“Mhm,” You hummed, holding her close to your chest. “What do you think, should we get those?”

“Yes,” Bea wiggled, trying to push out of your arms, ready to get down and run around. “Get-Get the big one, Mommy.” She pointed a finger over towards the rather large white pumpkin on the ground.

“The big one?” You gasped lightly, bouncing her on your hip so she shook with laughter, giggles trilling out in a soft screech.

“You gotta ask Daddy if we can get the big one.” You muttered lightly, turning towards Eddie. “He’s the one who’s gotta carry it.”

Eddie’s lips curled in a half smile, your cheek pressed to Bea’s, face to face; the two of you looked so alike. He always told you that. You’d roll your eyes, scoff and insist she was his twin, but he saw more of you in her every day.

“Can we get the big one, Daddy?” Bea reached for Eddie, practically launching herself in his arms. “Please? I asked really, really nicely.” She curled into him, cheek pressed to his shoulder, looking up at him with big brown eyes rounded so sweetly- a look she definitely got from you.

“You did ask nicely, thank you.” Eddie hummed, running a hand over her messy hair, tangled from the wind. “What do you think, sweetheart? Do you want one or two for the porch?” He looked at you, already reaching for his wallet in the back of his jeans.

“Probably two. I can put them on either side of the door.” Eddie passed you his wallet, keeping a careful eye on you as you walked to the front to pay. He scanned the crowds again, letting Bea babble away to him about the different things she saw, humming in response lightly as he watched. Eddie knew Gareth was lurking around somewhere, no doubt scanning the crowds just as he was.

“Hey, Ed,” You called, breaking him from his trance. “She said they have wheelbarrows you can borrow to load them to the car if you want.”

“Oh,” Bea squealed, turning towards Eddie so quickly she almost hit him in the face. “Can I ride in the wheelbarrow?”

“Ride in the wheelbarrow?” You parroted with a grin. “Why do you wanna ride in that, hm? Are you a pumpkin now?”

“Nooo,” Bea giggled, leaning back to look at you. “I just wanna ride in it.”

You eyed her playfully. “Hm, maybe if you ask nicely.”

“Please?” Bea added quickly, already squirming to get out of Eddie’s arms, sending his heart lurching with panic.

You didn’t seem bothered, pulling the wheelbarrow off the ground, maneuvering it towards the pumpkins. “Fine, but let me load these in first, ok?”

“Let me get them.” Eddie clicked, reaching a hand out to stop you before you could wrangle the obnoxiously large pumpkin up. “I got it, baby. You hold her.” He passed Bea to you, bending down to lift the pumpkin, hoping his rings didn’t stab it like last time.

“Are you going to help me decorate when we get home?” You cooed to Bea, swaying her lightly like you did when she was a newborn. You knew she was too old, all the parenting books told you that, but it was a habit- one that soothed the both of you.

“Yes,” Bea grinned, curling in closer to you. “I’ll help you, Mama. We can put the bats up.”

Eddie’s heart burst with warm joy at her soft sing-songy voice. For all his hesitation and terror about having a baby, he never knew he could love something so much. From the moment she was born, all seven pounds of screaming baby, he’d been so overwhelmed with a feeling of adoration he couldn’t begin to explain. Everyday it seemed to grow, for the both of you- his girls.

Bea settled on top of the pumpkins, gripping the sides as Eddie pushed slowly over the graveled parking lot, her tiny giggles and squeals of laughter leaving you both beaming with pride.

“Mama,” Bea turned, leaving both you and Eddie cringing in fear, for a moment, scared she would fall. “Can we make the pun’kins into carriages like on the real Cinderella?”

“Sure, baby. I think we can craft that.” You smiled, speed stepping to stand beside her, a hand on her back to steady her.

“We can put bats on them too so-so it’s scary.” Bea giggled. “Right? Because Halloweens ‘sposed to be scary, right, Daddy?” She turned to look at Eddie over her shoulder.

“That’s right.” Eddie grinned, making his way towards the sleek black car in the parking lot- bigger than the luxury sports cars he had in the past. Safer now and bigger for a baby, his baby.

You lifted Bea out of the wheelbarrow, carrying her around towards the backseat to buckle her into place, while Eddie loaded the pumpkins in. The car ride back was much louder than the one there, Bea babbling on and on to you and Eddie about Halloween, her costume, the decorations, what candy Grandpa Wayne would have this year.

Eddie held your hand in between the console, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he allowed himself to relax just for a moment. He let himself feel at peace, safe in the serenity of the car with his family.

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runawrites-blog · 8 months ago

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Where The Fuck Did She Learn That? (Deadpool x Reader)

Summary: After accidentally teaching his daughter a swear word, Wade tries to teach her other words before you come home. You still end up finding out. (Female Reader) Word Count: 1,850 Warnings: Swearing. Kid-Fic. Wade is a Girl Dad. Minor Arguing. No Y/N. No Deadpool and Wolverine Spoilers. A/N: The child character is named Bea (nickname Bee) after Bea Arthur from Golden Girls because, in the flashback scene from Deadpool, we see Wade wearing a shirt with her likeness on it. Also, someone asked me to tag them in my other Deadpool fics but I am not sure if that means ALL Deadpool fics I write or just series, so I didn't tag them. I am new to people wanting to be tagged in my writing, so please if you want to be tagged clarify what you want to be tagged in so I (a dumbass) can understand it. Sorry ^^ Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58276927

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“There she is!”

Wade smiled softly when his one-year-old daughter babbled happily as he picked her up from her playmat on the ground, hoisting her up over his head and making her giggle excitedly. He grinned back at her as he bounced her a few times before settling her on his hip, nodding along to her mostly nonsensical babbles. You’d told him that after around twelve months you two could expect her first words and he was now eagerly waiting for it every day.

He would ever admit that to you because he knew you’d tease him relentlessly about it and as any of his readers knew you were only allowed to do that in bed. But as to not do you injustice, he had to admit that most of the time you weren’t teasing him about how he interacted with his daughter, that most of the time you thought it was absolutely endearing.

“Did you have fun stuffing shapes in boxes? Bet that was absolutely riveting!”

The excited way in which he always spoke to her never failed to make her gurgle excitedly, bouncing in his grasp as her little hands reached up to pat all over his face. Wade just chuckled at her excitement, leaning over to examine the toys on the ground, pretending to be deep in thought.

“So help me out here, the star-shaped block goes into the star-shaped hole right? And the triangle one into the triangle-shaped hole?” He mused, crouching down and pointing at the corresponding shapes and nodding along to his daughter’s babbles. “Got it. Thanks, Bee.”

It was a nickname you two had used for the baby ever since your pregnancy because she had always moved around a lot, making you two call her a busy bee. And when your daughter had been born you two had decided on a fitting name but since you had so adamantly fought Wade on how you couldn’t call a baby Bee and he had not really wanted to argue with you after you’d just given birth, he’d agreed. And like that, you two had decided on the name Bea, only for you to later find out Wade had suggested it because he just loved ‘Golden Girls’.

“How about we get you a snack?” Wade asked in a soft voice, bouncing Bea on his hip as he made his way to the kitchen. “I could try apple bunnies like Mommy makes them but don’t get upset when they come out looking like apple roadkill instead! Deal?”

He had out his pinky at Bea and she reached for it, grabbing it with her whole hand and shaking it around a little. Wade just shrugged at that.

“Close enough!”

Sitting her down in her highchair, Wade started cutting up some apples for Bea, humming along in agreement to whatever she was babbling about behind him. None of her words were distinguishable as of yet but she loved babbling to herself. You’d once said that she truly was Wade’s child because he could never keep his mouth shut, either. When he’d called you fucking rude for it you had almost tackled him with how fast you’d tried to cover his mouth, chiding him for using foul language around Bea. His joke about how you could always gag him had only made you roll your eyes.

“Almost done, Bee. Just keep telling your story. Daddy’s listening.”

As he readied his knife to try and cut into the apple twice, so the two cut-in areas could be lifted to simulate ears, he slipped up and sliced right into his thumb. Dropping the knife onto the counter he shook his hand a little.

“Fuck!”

Cut thumb and apple forgotten, Wade felt his blood run cold and he froze in his spot before slowly turning his head to see whether or not he had heard that right. When he looked over his shoulder he saw Bea giggling happily, clapping her tiny hands as she repeated the word over and over again.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

He was dead. You were going to come back and find out that your child’s first word was a swear word and that it was his fault, on top of that. Then you were going to tear him a new one and not in a way he would like you to. Panicking he rushed over to the highchair, crouching down in front of it and shaking his head.

“No, no, Bee. You can’t say that. It’s a bad word.”

“Fuck!”

“No!” Wade exclaimed in desperation as his daughter giggled on and repeated the word. “Can you be a sweetheart for Daddy and stop saying that? Please?”

It was dumb to try and reason with a baby, he knew that. None of his readers would have to remind him of that but in his desperate state of mind, it was the only thing he thought of trying. But it didn’t help. Bea was repeating the word still and Wade stood up in frustration, burying his face in his hands.

As he imagined how you would react, how you would make him sleep on the couch for months he realised the worst thing was that would would likely get upset about this. So he quickly thought of an idea. He had to make Bea forget the swear word and try to get her to say something else.

So quickly, he picked her up again, holding her close as he sat her down on his hip and went around the kitchen, pointing out random objects only to get the swear word as a reply again. Then he moved on into the living room to try doing the same there.

“Flower.”

“Fuck.”

“Table.”

“Fuck.”

“Couch.”

“Fuck.”

This went on for some time until eventually Wade went into Bea’s bedroom and walked around, once more pointing out random objects until they reached her crib and the mobile hanging over it. Bea reached out for the little aquatic creatures hanging from it and Wade got an idea -- a word that was as short as the swear word and also started with the same letter. Gentle, he stopped the mobile and grabbed a small blue fish between both his fingers.

“Fish.”

“Fish!”

“Yes, Fish! Good girl, Bee!” Wade said and nodded, beaming as his daughter repeated the word a few more times. “Fish. That’s a fish.”

The front door opening made him turn and freeze. He hoped his plan had worked as he walked out into the living room where you quickly spotted him and came over, cooing at the girl in his arms before taking her into yours. You bounced her around a bit as you leaned in to kiss Wade before looking back at Bea.

“Did you have fun with Daddy, Bee?”

“Fish!”

Your mouth fell open and a smile overtook your features as you stared at your daughter in disbelief. Then you looked up at Wade in absolute delight, bouncing Bea around on your hip as the girl giggled happily.

“She said her first word? That’s amazing! And it’s so funny that it’s fish.”

“I guess it’s because of her mobile.” Wade shrugged and then leaned forward to kiss Bea on the head as he continued lying to you. “She’s been going on about it all afternoon.”

“It’s just sad that I wasn’t there to hear it.” Your smile faltered just a bit but then your face lit up again. “Maybe I can see it on the baby monitor.”

Wade felt his blood run cold for a second before he realised why that wouldn’t be possible. “She said it in the kitchen. The baby monitor is in the bedroom, so I guess you won’t be able to see it. Sorry, Honey.”

Once more your face fell but it quickly lit up once again when Bea kept babbling on about fish and you looked up to smile at Wade, seemingly having decided that it didn’t matter because it was a wonderful thing nonetheless. Wade was about to embrace you and Bea when you piped up again, a big smile on your face.

“Wait a second. The baby monitor has two devices and both of them have cameras, so you can use them back and forth.” You mused, snapping your fingers and making Wade freeze as he realised where the other device was. “I left the other one in the kitchen yesterday!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, and now I can see our daughter speak her first word for the first time, too!”

Before Wade could come up with a lie you were on your way to the kitchen, Bea in your arms. Once there you sat down the footage of the empty kitchen until Wade saw the video of him putting Bea down in her highchair. His hands clamped down on the back of your chair as you started playing the footage, turning back to smile at him and tease him quietly about how sweet he was for always talking to Bea. But he wasn’t really listening, eyes trained on the monitor.

“Fuck!”

Wade felt himself freeze as you turned around in your chair, a deep scowl on your face as you looked up at him. “That was our daughter first word? And she said it because of you?”

“I am so sorry, Honeybun. My sweet pookie-bear, I swear it was not on purpose. I cut myself and it was out of reflex. Please, don’t kick me out!”

“Give me a second.”

You stood from your chair and walked into the living room to place Bea down on her playmat where she began playing with her shapes and blocks again. Wade followed you, head turned down as he waited for you to go off on him. As you marched over and guided him into the hallway, just far enough to be out of earshot but close enough to keep an eye on your daughter, he knew he was in for it.

“Bad enough that you teach her to swear, but you also lie to me about it!” You snapped quietly, probably not wanting to raise your voice and scare Bear. “I can’t believe you!”

Wade raised his hands in defeat. “It’s totally my fault, I know. But you gotta admit that I at least got her to quickly forget it. Now she’s just saying ‘fish’, so that’s good!”

“Yeah, I guess that’s good.” You sighed and shook your head, putting your hand on your hips. “At least you fixed this.”

“So really, if anything you should be thankful!”

“Shut the fuck up, Wilson!”

”Fuck!”

Wade burst out laughing as you turned in horror, finding Bea on the floor, repeating the word over and over again. He watched in amusement as you hurried over and tried to redirect her to saying ‘fish’ again but it was of no use because now that Bea had been reminded of the word she was not going to stop saying it. Wade grinned to himself as he approached you, leaning in close to whisper in your ear so Bea wouldn’t hear him.

“Where the fuck did she learn that?”

#my writing #fanfiction #writing #mcu #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu x reader #deadpool imagine #deadpool x reader #deadpool #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson imagine #wade wilson #no y/n #kid fic

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bea-schuyler · 2 months ago

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sometimes i get torn between doing theatre or something science-y but then i remember talya sindel has a b.a in physics and astrophysics and that like talya, i too, am a girlboss

#bea babbles #talya sindel #she's a girlboss tho

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rumble-b · 1 year ago

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GOT MAXIMUM BOOPS!!!!

#thank you to all of bip’s followers that got sicced upon me lmao. I owe u my life 💖💖#Bea babbles

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potlattice · 1 year ago

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She Who Brings Happiness (Rafe Cameron x reader)

Rafe Cameron x reader

Frat baby goes to her first family Christmas and Rafe's on edge...

"It's okay." You murmured to Rafe, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

He barely heard your words of comfort as his eyes were focused elsewhere.

A few feet away, Ward paraded your baby around the room, showing her off to the family members.

"She's being held hostage." He scowled, taking a sip of whiskey.

The moment you'd entered the Cameron estate, she'd been plucked out of your arms and passed around the family like a box of chocolates. However, you handled her absence a lot better than Rafe did since you were used to your friends always wanting to hold her.

When Rafe and his boys took her to golf days or the bar, she was usually in the stroller or her father's arms. He didn't trust his friends to hold her right.

You rolled your eyes at the thought. Rafe was definitely a helicopter parent, always hovering over her.

"She's fine. She likes the attention." You snorted at the sight of your happy baby. She was currently flapping her arms for Rose.

It was Rafe's turn to roll his eyes. "That's the Sarah Cameron in her." He mumbled lightly.

You noticed him fall into a painful silence and take another swig of alcohol. Although he'd never say it, you knew he was disappointed Sarah wasn't here.

Apparently, she was with her boyfriend, which Ward and Rose only accepted since he was orphaned. But when she'd heard Rafe would be here this year, she had apperently refused to come.

But it was Bea's first Christmas, and family meant a lot to Rafe.

"I think you're right. It looks like she's getting a little fussy. Maybe you should go over?" You suggested, despite the fact the little girl seemed content.

He finished his drink and set it down on the side.

"Or we can go together?" You prompted at his hesitance and he nodded, following your lead towards his parents.

You didn't take Bea from Wheezie's awkward hold, but the baby noticeably brightened up at the sight of her parents.

"I'm not good with babies." Wheezie said with a grimace, trying to bounce Bea as she babbled, reaching a chubby hand out for Rafe. "She doesn't like me."

"She does. She just likes me the most." He told his sister with a smile. "First one in the family to."

Wheezie looked down at his words, but he barely noticed as he watched Bea stare at him with owlish eyes.

"If she didn't like you, she'd spit up on you. Or pull your hair." You smiled at the thought. She'd yanked Topper's blonde hair when she first met him.

Rafe smiled too, looking to you as you shared the memory fondly.

As the evening settled, Rose announced dinner was ready and the family shifted into the dining room. Ward had forgotten that he'd thrown out Wheezie's old high chair after a leak in the basement, so Bea was plonked on a pillow on Rafe's lap because she had whined when she couldn't see over the table.

"This is so lovely, thank you Rose." You said with a smile and she returned it.

"I love cooking for the family."

All tension from six months ago had been let go when they saw the Bea. They had wanted to come to the hospital but Rafe didn't want them there, and so he didn't tell them you'd had the baby.

Since she was born quite early, it was easy to hide. And so you'd had two months of blissful silence before they began badgering about visiting, and with the winter break approaching you'd had no excuse of work or school.

You had let things go as well since you saw how eager Rafe was to be back home. He missed the Outer Banks and you didn't blame him. It was beautiful here.

He also missed his family, as much as he claimed he was hated by them. He cared for his sisters, and he sought the approval of his parents, even now; one year away from completing his business and law degree and a father at 22.

"Was that the door?" Ward asked with a frown at the sound of a lock clicking.

Rafe's head raised and he clutched Bea a little tighter as the family stared at the doorway just as a figure appeared.

"Hey..." Sarah smiled with a wave. "Sorry I'm late."

"You came." Ward said with a pleasant smile. "We'll make some room."

"Well actually...I'm not alone." She said, and looked to Rafe. "I heard from Wheezie we had a couple extra guests this year, and so I hope it's alright with everyone that I brought my own."

Her boyfriend then hesitantly appeared by her side, taking her hand in his own.

"Hi." He looked around the family dining table and then looked at Bea with a smile. "Cute baby."

"Thanks." Rafe accepted with a sharp nod, his jaw tight. You placed a hand on his knee and he sighed, looking down at the wispy hairs on the baby's head. "Do you, er, wanna hold her?"

Sarah raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Of course I do!"

You smiled fondly knowing that this was a big deal for him as he stood up to pass the baby to his sister.

"You've washed your hands, right?" He asked, snatching Bea back before Sarah could take her.

The blonde rolled her eyes and nodded, making grabbing hands for the baby. "I'm not dirty, Rafe."

He shifted distrustful eyes towards John B but handed the baby to her nonetheless. Sarah shifted the little girl to hold her face-to-face and gasped.

"She's so tiny!" She cooed, bouncing the baby in her arms. "Ouch!"' Sarah gasped as the baby yanked on her long blonde hair. She went to do it again but Rafe stopped her.

You hid a laugh behind your hand as Wheezie cheered.

"Yay! Sarah's finally not the favourite."

"Shut up." Sarah grumbled to her younger sister, allowing Rafe to take the baby back as she started to whine and wriggle in her aunts arms.

"You're welcome to sit here." Rose said to John B, placing down a plate for him beside where Rafe was sitting.

The men stared at each other for a moment, John B hesitating to make a move for the space before Rafe nodded in approval. "You're better off next to me than Wheezie. She stinks after a few sprouts."

"Hey!"

You smiled as your baby and Rafe returned to your side and you fed Bea some mashed potato. Your eyes drifted to Rafe's face as he neglected his food, instead he was quietly watching the interaction between mother and baby before he caught your gaze.

"Don't give me that smile. I see it enough everyday." He joked in reference to your smiley baby on his lap.

"You love it." You teased and he didn't deny your words. "I'm just happy you're happy."

"I'm always happy when I have my girls." He said, leaning forward to kiss you and you met him in the middle, breaking apart at the whine that came from between you two.

"Sorry." You apologised to your baby who'd been squished in the middle.

As soft and tiny as she was, your baby managed to bring together a broken family, and build the bridge they'd take to healing its fractures.

i love frat baby...i called her bea cuz it's cute and felt right for the family Beatrice: "she who brings happiness; blessed"

#obx fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #soft rafe cameron #fratbaby

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goldensfreckles · 7 months ago

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since ive made this blog my d*ddy issues have gone from "terrified of older men" to "i fucking love older men" so uh,,, im making a bunch of older men now <333

#*˖ ⊹ ooc ╲ bea stop babbling ⋅

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puck-luck · 1 month ago

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baby boy hughes (3) | beaquinn

friday, october 14, 2033 11:14 P.M.

It’s been rushed hands and breathy whispers under the sheets for the past forty minutes. It’s rare that Bea and Quinn get to share a moment like this, now that they’ve got two kids and Quinn’s fifteenth season with the Canucks is getting into the swing of things. But– it’s his 34th birthday today, and they’ve made it a point to never let a birthday go by without a little… ‘appreciation’ for their spouse.

The boys had made that seem impossible in the early stages of the night. Luke had fought sleep for a while after Bea put him down at seven, getting up from his “big-boy bed” four times before Quinn convinced him to stay down after one last bedtime story. Patrick had gone down in his room at 7:30, but he’d fought that as well. He’d wailed and called for ‘Mama’ for the better part of ten minutes, which almost broke Bea’s heart. Her crying babies are her weakness. Patrick is so young, too. He only just attached “Mama” to Bea. Before now, it was a couple of easy syllables that he could babble and now it's her name. She’d still held fast, though; Bea and Quinn are big supporters of the “cry it out” mindset. If Patrick or Luke are still crying after 15 minutes, though, Bea will go into their room and cuddle them. There have been a couple of times that Quinn has fallen asleep in Luke’s toddler bed when Luke refuses Bea and Bea has had to tiptoe in and wake and extract him from the room without disturbing their firstborn.

Not tonight. The boys had to go to bed at a reasonable time. Bea was itching to share a dessert with Quinn and give him his inappropriate presents (underwear with her face on it and a new boudoir book to replace the one she had made for him ahead of their wedding) before doing, arguably, what they do best.

You wouldn’t have known it was Quinn’s birthday if all you had seen was how he’s been showering Bea with attention ever since they hit the sheets. He’d locked their bedroom door when they stumbled in, a barely noticeable buzz in their veins from the one glass of wine they’d each gulped down over the chocolate dessert once the boys went to bed. He’d undressed Bea in a flurry and laid her on the bed gently before spreading her thighs and licking into her like she was his true dessert. Bea lost track of time once his lips and tongue found her core, coming undone from Quinn’s mouth twice before he’d pulled away and come up to kiss her. Knowing they probably didn’t have much time before one of the kids woke up and bothered them– as they are known to do whenever Bea and Quinn try to engage in anything nefarious, like they have a sixth sense or something– Quinn had slid into Bea and fucked her, nice and slow, until he’d come inside of her with a low groan. He’d rubbed her clit, still buried inside, until she’d seized up and climaxed a third time.

Now, he’s laying behind Bea, his breath coming out in soft pants over her neck. His fingers are tracing the stretch marks that run from Bea’s abdomen to her hips. It used to make Bea squirm when he did this, after Luke was born. She hated them and almost started a fight with Quinn once about how he was always touching them, the part of her body that made Bea most insecure, and he’d blinked in surprise and kissed each one while explaining how gorgeous they were, since each one was a reminder of the baby that they’d made with their love. It was so sweet that Bea almost got sick to her stomach, but she never complained about the stretch marks again. They’ve multiplied since she was pregnant with Patrick, and she’s actually grown to like them too.

It’s been all of three minutes since Quinn came, then Bea followed, and it’s a good thing they finished when they did. There’s a little voice floating through the baby monitor in Patrick’s room, which they installed two weeks ago when they started trying to transition him into his own bedroom, and he’s crying again.

“Start the clock,” Quinn whispers, breathing a laugh into Bea’s skin. His eyes are closed and his chest is rising and falling steadily, like he’s already tuckered out. If only it was as easy for the boys to sleep– Bea would live a much less hectic life.

“Do you think we woke him up,” Bea whispers back, her own voice just tired enough that it can’t inflect like a question should.

“No way, we’re really good at staying quiet now,” Quinn replies. He purses his lips against Bea’s neck, leaving a couple of kisses in the same spot because he doesn’t want to move. His hand comes up to cup Bea’s boob, holding the weight of it for a minute before returning to her side. “You’re still really good at this.”

“Barely did anything,” Bea notes. Her eyelids are heavy, but her ears are still perked up and listening for Patrick to settle down.

Quinn hums, a non-answer that satisfies both of them, and they drift between sleep and drowsiness. Bea never really falls asleep and neither does Quinn apparently, because after what feels like only a few minutes, he’s rolling away from Bea. “Gonna go get Peej,” Quinn murmurs. He kisses Bea’s cheek and goes off to find a pair of sweatpants before slipping from the bedroom.

Bea takes the few minutes she has to sit up, shoulders against the headboard, and throw on a shirt and sleepshorts. The shirt is baggy and one of Quinn’s, so old and threadbare and stained with breastmilk and spit-up (no matter how many times Bea tries to wash it) that she might as well throw it away. It’s been a hard transition to get Patrick into his own room– he’s clingier than Luke ever was to either parent, and Patrick much prefers Bea over Quinn. They joke now that it’s probably because Quinn missed the birth– Patrick somehow knows and holds it against him.

Quinn’s footsteps are almost silent as he comes back into their room. Patrick is sniffling around a pacifier, sitting tall in Quinn’s arms and looking for Bea. His eyes are teary but bright when he sees her and he leans forward in Quinn’s arms to reach for her, so much so that Quinn has to adjust his grip and put a hand on Patrick’s chest to keep him from falling out of Quinn’s arms.

Bea takes the boy when Quinn nears the bed and he snuggles against her chest, settling right between her boobs and curling up. It’s comical– both the positioning and how he’s too big to scrunch up like he did as a newborn, but he tries. His paci is bobbing in his mouth and he’s making little sucking noises that are half-annoying and half-precious to Bea.

Quinn comes back into bed and rests his head on Bea’s clavicle, slinging his arm over her stomach. He closes his eyes.

Bea pets Patrick’s back and breathes evenly, feeling him match her movements and start to drift off on his own, without a feeding. She’s grateful. She does not want to have a baby biting her nipple right now.

Patrick’s chubby hand pats Quinn’s head absentmindedly, ruffling the hair that covers his forehead.

Quinn snuffles out a soft laugh and shifts away, sitting up beside Bea and putting his head next to hers. She leans on him and him on her. Quinn returns the touch to Patrick’s hair, patchy and spotty as it is. It’ll fill out soon. Quinn turns his head and nudges Bea’s cheek with his nose. “I love you,” he says quietly.

“I love you too,” Bea automatically replies at the same volume. She turns and meets Quinn halfway, sharing a chaste kiss. Bea watches Patrick fall asleep for a few minutes, waiting for his eyes to close and his mouth to go slack. The pacifier will drop from his tiny lips any second now.

“He’s getting so big,” Quinn observes. He runs his hand down Patrick’s back and covers Bea’s hand with his palm. Bea hums in agreement, then Quinn speaks again after a brief pause. “I hope we just made another one. I miss having a little guy around.”

Bea sighs and rolls her eyes. “You’re insatiable.”

“You’re irresistible,” Quinn chirps back with a goofy smile. “And that pregnant glow?” He holds a hand to his chest. “God, baby, it’s a wonder I’ve restrained myself this long.”

Bea laughs. “Shut up,” she says. “Stop speaking things into existence. I’m still getting adjusted to two.”

sunday, june 4, 2034 2:02 P.M.

The past week has been a really nice escape in the wake of everything that happened. Mimi and Poppop flew up to Vancouver last Sunday, the day after the news broke, and returned to Charlotte with Luke and Patrick on the plane. Bea was hesitant to let her parents take her three year old and 14-month-old to Charlotte for a week, but it’s not like she can fly from Vancouver to Charlotte with them. She hasn’t been allowed to do that since April, since international flights don’t allow pregnant women over 28 weeks to board. Bea is at a healthy 35-weeks when the road trip starts. The drive is 43 hours, funnily enough, and Bea makes a point to point it out to Quinn.

She and Quinn get to have a whole week to themselves. They spend the majority of those days in the car, sure, but they spend each night in a new hotel, in a new city, and mostly in a new state. They spend two nights in Montana because it’s such a large place and it’s so pretty, but Bea is grateful to eventually get through the midwest. They stop in Nashville on the sixth day to get lunch and walk around for a bit. It’s Bea’s favorite road city of Quinn’s, although she hasn’t gotten to travel with him as much as she’d like. This week makes up for it.

One night on the road trip, Bea spends the whole night asleep on one side. Usually she tosses and turns. When she wakes, Bea's ear hurts from being pressed against the pillow all night. Quinn can tell that she's uncomfortable, because Bea has never been good at hiding her emotions, and he asks her what's wrong.

With some effort– and a bit of help from Quinn– Bea rolls over and finds herself face to face with her husband. Bea's ear still stings, even though it's free now.

"I miss sleeping on my stomach," Bea laments. Her tone is far too dramatic for the situation at hand, something as trivial as her sleeping position. The admission brings a rush of emotion up her throat and Bea has to swallow back a lump of tears. She continues, lip jutting out miserably, "But if I sleep on my stomach, I'm going to crush the baby." Her mouth wobbles.

Quinn's eyebrows curve down with sympathy written all over his features. His hands come to Bea's cheeks and he kisses the tiny tear that slipped from the corner of her eye. "You are so lovely," Quinn marvels quietly. He draws back and runs his fingers gently over Bea's cheek, his eyes raking over her features like he's never seen her before. She cries a little more.

On the seventh day, as they drive the four and a half hours from Knoxville to Charlotte, Bea isn’t sure how to feel. The closer they get to North Carolina, the closer she is to her babies after she hasn’t seen them for days. She’s got Caleb puttering around in her belly, kicking her insides when Quinn sings along with the radio and pressing on her bladder when he thinks she’s been sitting in the car for too long, but she misses Patrick and Luke. She can’t wait to see them. She’s excited for that, but she’s dreading the whole reason that they’re going to Litchton early this summer. Bea does not want to attend Earl’s funeral.

Quinn was at home when Bea got the call from Honey last Saturday. Bea had had a hard time stifling her tears in front of the boys, who were just trying to play with their magnetic blocks on the floor. Quinn got out of the shower and Bea waved him over and buried her face in his chest to cry just a little bit before pulling herself together and disappearing into the kitchen to make lunch. By the time she called them into the dining room to eat the mac-n-cheese she prepared, Quinn had booked flights for her parents and started calling hotels to make reservations. His season was over, thank God, so he was free to travel with Bea the whole way to Litchton. She’d cried a little more over that, and then some more in their bed when it really set in that the grumpy old man with a heart of gold who had taken care of her and Honey while they were in their twenties had died. She knew it was coming, of course. He was old and frail and he had had a few bad falls in recent months that didn’t bode well for his health. Still– the fact that he was gone broke her heart. He wouldn’t even get to meet her newest baby. Caleb wouldn’t even know the man who had considered himself Luke and Patrick’s third grandfather.

The boys didn’t come to the funeral. Bea and Quinn left them with Mimi and Poppop, thinking that it might be too difficult to keep them under control while their own emotions were so high. Bea and Quinn sat in a pew with Honey and Trevor and took in the mass and the beautiful eulogy that Earl and Vera’s son gave. After the funeral, they’d gone to the reception in a car together and mingled with the townies. The mood was incredibly subdued, as was to be expected, but everyone seemed delighted to see Bea and put their hands on her belly, which helped lift her mood a little bit. The beautiful thing about funerals in a tiny town is that you all mourn together, yes, but in the end, the reception is a celebration. You get to see old friends and talk to people you’ve never met and share memories of the person that you’re both missing. Bea admits that she misses small town life sometimes when she’s in Vancouver. There’s just no community like the one in Litchton.

Bea is most happy to see her knitting ladies. They’re all still intact, although Earl’s death has her realizing that this could be the last time she sees all of them together. They surround Vera and protect her from vulture-like attendees that are bothering her too much, but they part like a sea for Bea and Quinn.

The ladies dote on Quinn, touching his beard and his jacket and the collar of his shirt. They coo over Bea equally as much, cupping her face and offering to drag a chair across the room so that she can sit down and get off of her feet. It’s Vera, sweet and tiny-looking Vera in her black dress and old-school flat-brim hat, who asks about the name for their third son.

“Caleb,” Bea reveals with a smile. She and Quinn had decided on that name pretty much right after the doctor had told them the gender of the baby. After two surprises, they were ready for something certain. They’d been perusing the baby-name-books for weeks, pointing out their favorites and narrowing it down to two for a boy: Caleb or Jacob. “He looks more like a Caleb,” Quinn said after the pivotal, gender-revealing scan. Bea agreed.

“Just Caleb?” Scarlett asks. “This little blessing doesn’t have a middle name or nothin’?”

“We haven’t chosen a middle name yet,” Quinn says. His voice is a little choked up and Bea wraps her arm around his bicep, hugging it to her chest. She touches her lips to his shoulder, hoping that the lipstick won’t stain his suit jacket. She doesn’t expect what he says next. “We would be honored, Vera, if you’d allow us to use Earl’s name.”

Bea gasps and feels her eyes well up with tears. She hadn’t even thought of that and Quinn has totally bulldozed her to make this executive decision, but Bea can’t even be mad because it’s perfect. Caleb Earl. Caleb Earl Hughes. It actually rolls off the tongue. It’s like this was meant to happen– without Earl’s passing, they never would have thought to use his name. He was an eternal figure in their lives, one of Bea’s favorite people in the world, but he hadn’t come up during their baby name debates. No middle name had fit right, until now, and Bea is just shocked that they didn’t think of this before.

“Oh, my,” Vera breathes out. She presses the crumpled-up tissue in her hand to each of the corners of her eyes. “You two are fixin’ to make me bawl when I’ve been holding it together so well.” She sniffs and takes Quinn’s hand, squeezing it. “It would be an honor for me if you would use his name.”

sunday, july 9, 2034 7:54 A.M.

Bea hears her shouting toddlers coming down the hall of the maternity ward well before they reach her door. Quinn left to go get them from Honey and Trevor’s about an hour ago– he’d dropped Honey off and exchanged her for his boys, who had certainly done a number on Trevor since they’d woken up around 5:30, wondering why they were in a random, mysterious new bedroom. The answer is: well, you two were asleep when Mama woke up to some gnarly contractions at 1 A.M. You couldn’t just stay at home alone. Trevor had braved the sleeping boys– he was actually more than happy to take care of them while Honey joined Bea and Quinn, finally, in the delivery room. She was a lot braver this time around, but that could partially be attributed to their setting and their doctor: St. John’s Hospital in Litchton, with resident Emma-Kate between Bea’s stirruped ankles.

“Nope, Luke, she’s in here!” Bea hears Quinn call from outside the door. Luke must have gotten excited and kept sprinting down the hall, happy to be free in such a bright building. Time in hospitals is weird, but Bea can’t imagine that the staff are happy to have an energetic three year old roaming their halls before 8 A.M.

Quinn turns the knob on Bea’s door, pushing the door open and holding it so that Luke can wiggle under his arm and enter.

“Mommy!” Luke exclaims. He’s got a stuffed bear in his hand. He toddles over to her bedside and grabs the sheets, trying to pull himself up, but he’s still too little.

Bea, although she’s not really supposed to be overexerting herself after delivering a ten pound baby, reaches over the side of the bed and pulls him up.

Luke sits at her feet and holds the teddy bear up in front of his face with both hands. “Look!”

“Oh, how cute!” Bea exclaims, pinching the bear’s paws. “Did you buy that for your baby brother?”

Luke falters for a second, like he’s suddenly realizing that the toy in his hands isn’t necessarily his toy.

“I know that baby Caleb got you a present,” Bea bargains, incentivizing her biggest ‘little man.’ That’s what Jim always calls her boys. It feels truer with every day that passes.

‘Baby Caleb’ got both Luke and Patrick a present. For Luke, he got a brand new Luke Hughes jersey from the Devils’ online store, branded with the ‘A’ that Luke has deserved for a long time now. It’s perfect, since Luke has been obsessed with hockey even more now that he has started playing.

For Patrick, ‘Caleb’ bought a set of wooden, velcro fruits and vegetables that he can practice cutting with a similarly fake wooden knife. Bea used to have one of these playsets when she was a kid and she loved it– she thinks Patrick will love it too, considering how much he loves to sit in his high chair and watch her whip up some food throughout the day.

Luke’s eyes light up at the mention of his own present and he starts looking around the room. He sits up on his knees and shuffles along the pink knit blanket at the base of Bea’s bed, leaning his head over the edge like the present is hiding on the floor and he missed it.

Quinn passes Patrick to Bea while Luke looks around. He kisses the crown of Bea’s head after he does, then crosses the room to check in on the swaddled figure in the clear bassinet.

Patrick snuggles into Bea’s neck as soon as he’s in her arms, wiggling happily. He’s improved a lot since six months, not nearly as clingy with Bea now, but he still loves on her as often as she’ll allow. Considering how independent Luke is, Bea lets Patrick cuddle with her and sneak contact naps as often as he wants, even though he’s more than a year old.

“Hi, PJ,” Bea murmurs, turning and kissing his rosy, chunky cheek. “Did you miss Mama?”

“Mommy, where’s my present?” Luke interrupts, sitting back on his heels and pouting at Bea.

“Lukey, be patient,” Quinn scolds. “Do you want to meet your little brother?”

“No, Daddy, I want my present,” Luke insists.

Quinn fixes him with a glare, cradling the newborn in his arms. He walks over to the bed and nods his head at Bea’s side. “Sit next to Mommy,” he tells Luke. “Then you can get your present after.”

Luke dutifully shuffles into Bea’s side, leaning into her waist and stretching his legs out along her own. Bea sets Patrick down on her other side after a little detangling, then holds her hands out to take the small, pink baby from Quinn.

“Baby,” Patrick observes, touching Caleb’s cheek once he’s securely in Bea’s arms. Bea stifles an “aww.” He says it like ‘bee-bee.’

“Be gentle,” Bea tells him. “He’s brand new, sweetie. He’s not strong like you yet.”

Patrick’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and he pulls his finger back, clapping his hands together quietly.

“Put your hands out, Lu,” Bea instructs her other son.

Quinn has crossed to the other side of the bed, blocking Luke in. Once Bea puts Caleb along his arms, Quinn will very covertly support Caleb’s head while Luke holds him. It gives off the illusion that Luke is doing all the work– their independent eldest child– while still keeping their youngest safe. Bea is not ashamed to admit that, sometimes, the best part of being a parent is making up a little white lie to make your child feel better.

Luke holds Caleb for all of two seconds before the newborn’s face contorts in his sleep. That startles Luke and he pushes Caleb away, curling his lip. “I don’t like him,” Luke decides.

Bea turns her head to hide the smile she’s biting back. She kind of expected this, but she really thought Patrick would be the one to refuse his younger sibling. Luke is supposed to have practice sharing his parents and toys and life with a little brother, whereas Patrick has only ever had to deal with an older brother, yet he’s holding his hands out to Bea and bouncing in place.

“Hold baby,” Patrick repeats over and over again, opening and closing his palms impatiently. Bea helps him on her own while Quinn lifts Luke from the bed and sets him on the floor, promising that his present is somewhere in this room and he can open it if he finds it. That’ll keep him occupied for at least a few minutes.

While Patrick holds Caleb, and Bea and Quinn make eye contact and grin at each other, Bea suddenly realizes that they’re now outnumbered.

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