#little spoon steve>>>

[jamesbukkakebarnes]

let's ignore the fact that i've been super inactive and focus on them 💕 i just want yall to know i think abt stevebucky (and alpine) constantly 😭

anyway it's my birthday, and ive been doing a lot of Thinking and idk, i think im gonna start posting art w/o worrying abt if it's good or not. so here's steve and bucky and little alpine sleeping in (i love that for them) 🩷

[steddielations]

Staying the night, cuddling well into the morning is entirely new to Eddie when he starts dating Steve.

He hasn’t been with many guys. Favors exchanged behind a club building were quick and done. Meaningless and he didn’t mind, got used to it because that’s just how it is for people like Eddie.

No chance of going steady with someone, holding hands through a field of roses, that romantic shit wasn’t in the cards for him so he convinced himself he didn’t want it anyway. The couple of guys he’s managed to get a room with were gone by the time he woke up. Even when he thought there was something more, only to wake up alone with a cold pillow.

So with Steve, he loves being the big spoon, wrapping all four limbs around him, clinging to him so he can’t go anywhere. Not that Steve would, he never pulls away, never leaves, he loves being held as much as Eddie loves holding him. Eddie knows he won’t wake up alone, he gets the best sleep of his life with Steve in his arms. Just feeling Steve there with him, still.

Then once, Eddie’s half asleep when Steve comes over after working a late shift. Eddie’s too sleepy to turn around, mumbling “hey sweehar” and Steve shushes him, climbing in, sliding an arm over his waist and gently tugging Eddie against him.

Eddie sighs blissfully when Steve noses through his hair to kiss the back of his neck. He’s too tired to process all the little bursts of warmth firing off at the feeling of being held. He just melts into it, falling asleep easier than ever.

Then when he wakes up in the morning, still wrapped in Steve’s arms, he’s rocked with emotions welling in his chest. Steve’s arm is still tucked over Eddie’s stomach, leg slotted between Eddie’s, nose pressed against Eddie’s shoulder, snoozing softly.

Intimacy is everywhere, snug against his body, filling his stomach with fuzzy warmth. There in Steve’s arms, held through the night, Eddie feels so kept.

No one’s ever held onto Eddie before.

Guys don’t do that to Eddie. He’s not the one they hold onto, the one they keep. He’s the one they hide, the one they leave alone in an alley or a cold bed. The one they can’t get away from fast enough and fucking forget. Eddie was fine with that because he never expected anything more.

Eddie wasn’t prepared to be loved by Steve Harrington.

It’s ridiculous. A fairytale. Eddie Munson who crawled through seedy bars and back alleys somehow conned his way into the most loving arms imaginable. It’s so fucking ridiculous.

He starts laughing. Chuckling hysterically into his pillow. The whole bed starts to shake and so does Eddie. His laughs turn wet, a mix of cackling and sobbing bubbles from his throat.

Steve stirs awake, looking over Eddie’s shoulder, “Eddie … Baby, what’s wrong?” He asks softly, gathering Eddie’s hair from the tears on his cheeks and tucking it behind his ear.

Another wave of laughs and sobs. Eddie battled monsters with Metallica and somehow dating Steve is the most insane thing to happen to him.

Finally, Eddie says with a happily overwhelmed exhale, “I love you and you love me.”

Steve blinks, “What’s so wrong with that?”

“Nothing just,” Eddie looks up at him, propped on his elbow still perfect somehow with bed hair, looking down at Eddie like he’s the precious thing here. So, so ridiculous. “Shit like this doesn’t happen to me. You weren’t supposed to happen to me.”

Steve’s brows knit curiously, and Eddie really can’t explain it more than that. He’s just having a damn moment. He almost died not too long ago, now he’s got all this life and love coming out of nowhere at him, it fucks him up sometimes.

Steve gets it, reassuring after a moment, “Well it’s happening, Munson. You got me now and I’ve got you.”

Eddie laughs, still a little wet and pulls Steve’s arm over him, snuggling back against his chest. Steve tightens his hold and Eddie settles into the way it feels to be something worth holding in Steve’s arms.

“Yeah just…” Eddie says, voice small, “Just keep me, Steve. Okay?”

Steve presses kisses to his shoulder and up his neck, soft but with so much feeling behind them, “You’ll have to pry me off with a crowbar.”

Eddie snorts and yeah. He really likes being Steve’s little spoon.

For @steddie-week day 2: fluff and/or angst

[imthursdaysyme]

stali getting ready for a night out

[airlocksandaviaries]

Hey avengers assemble animators. Turn on ur location. I promise I just wanna talk

[loveluststerek]

I just love the idea of Steve being held when he sleeps. I know he’s a protector, and would probs like to be between the person he loves and the door but just. Touch deprived.

I have a headcanon that like all of Eddie’s friends were probs queer or at least ok with it, so they probs all slept in close proximity, so he’d be all for cuddling the shit out of Steve. He loves that he gets to be the big spoon and cover Steve, have his back while he sleeps. I love it and I need more of it pls thank you

[harrywavycurly]

So I’m currently laying in bed thinking about what it would be like if Eddie and Steve accidentally adopted a vampire little girl and how on one hand they’d do everything they could to make her seem as normal as possible while on the other hand making sure she is well fed and happy.

[lesbiradshaw]

when the taller one of the ship is actually the babier one. do you even get it.

[lumaxramblings]

alright stoners, here's a tricky question for you:

ronance vers

[darklilacs]

Steve AI is down soo bad for Eddie and honestly good for him

[unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men]

Adorable 😍

(via theonicole)

[jamesbukkakebarnes]

just some cuties snuggling for @t4tstevebucky 💘 happy (belated) birthday elliot 🥳🎂 ilysm ❤️

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

Diabetic Steve who is at a Dairy Queen with Robin after he went with her to an all girl punk band that’s she’s been wanting to see for years. Steve had been feeling weird all day but he didn’t want to bail at the last second because he knew that Robin would just cancel everything to take care of Steve.

(Steve would do the same for her).

Steve plops down into a booth while Robin goes to order them food. He pulls out his pod and winces when he sees his glucose level.

64 and going down. Not a good sign.

Just to be sure he pricks his finger and holy shit, he’s actually at 43. It’s at that moment, when Steve is wiping his finger with the alcohol wipe, that his phone decides to loudly beep to alert him that, “hey you’re crashing pretty hard and fast— take care of it soon!!”

Steve is rifling through his bag while Robin is already trying to rush their orders.

“Shit,” Steve mumbles to himself. “I’m out of fucking juice.”

His hands start to shake and Robin begins to freak out. Steve is always so in control of his diabetes, she’s never seen him like this. So, Robin does what any other person would do and grabs the largest blizzard she has ever seen on the online orders tray and runs over to her best friend.

“Here! Have this, I’m going to try to get you some apple juice!”

Steve just nods his head and slowly spoons some of it into his mouth.

“This tastes like shit, by the way.”

“You’re welcome, dingus. Now shut up and eat.”

The worker behind the counter comes over and starts talking to Robin after she sits in front of Steve. Steve can’t really make anything out right now since he’s trying to focus on making his hands work. But, he thinks he hears the mention of calling 911 and an ambulance.

Time passes a little slower after that. Steve somehow manages to get down enough of the ice cream that he is slowly rising again.

57 after he pricked. Thank god.

It’s at that moment that Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, walks in. He went to his best friend’s, Chrissy’s, show and needed a pick-me-up after helping her lug all of her equipment back into their vehicle.

He goes over to the online orders tray and it’s empty. He doesn’t really mind waiting. He walks over to the counter and sees that the worker is extremely frantic as she sorts some shit out.

“Hey,” he starts, his fingers tapping the fake granite counter top. “Just checking, I’m here to pick up an order for Edmundo and it’s not on the tray. Do you know when it will be ready?” He flashes an awkward smile and the worker just points to the table behind him.

“We’re working on it. Your nightmare of a blizzard was needed for something else. Give us five minutes.”

Eddie nods and slowly turned around, where he sees the most gorgeous man eating his blizzard. Reluctantly, he might add. The man has on a light pink t-shirt and brown corduroy pants, thick lensed glasses sliding down his nose. The woman across from him was clad in funky colors and had a dirty blonde bob. She was talking extremely fast and gesturing with her hands a bunch.

Chrissy would love her.

He walked over and tapped the man on the shoulder.

“How’s my blizzard?”

He slowly looks up and Eddie is met with honey brown eyes and beauty marks for days. A straight nose and an angular jawline. Jesus Christ.

The woman looks like she’s about to say something, but the guy beats her to it. “It tastes like if a unicorn threw up in my mouth, but it prevented me from passing out. So… thanks.” He smiles. “I’m Steve.”

Eddie needs to become Steve’s husband immediately.

“And I’m in love.” He pauses and then sees the look of glee on Steve’s face. “EDDIE. My name is Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you Eddie. Are you free tomorrow?”

[hairmetal666]

"I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he declares to all and sundry (Steve and Robin) in Family Video.

Steve laughs, ducks his head, hair a bountiful cascade that doesn't move an inch. He's blushing but it's not, like, a reaction to the sentiment of marriage. Steve knows Eddie is just like that, flirtatious and over-the-top and incapable of not speaking his thoughts as soon as they enter his head.

Robin roles her eyes, goes back to flipping through her magazine, something about cinema, and Eddie swipes his just rented movies off the counter.

"You think I'm joking," he twists so he's facing them, walking backwards to the door. "But I swear it, oh, beloved purveyor of movies and deleter of late fees."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve's face is pinker than before and Eddie recognizes and immediately forces himself to forget how cute it is. "But get out of here before I change my mind."

And Eddie, he loves to push his luck and also has very little filter between his brain and his mouth, so he says, "aw, don't be that way, Stevie, you love me."

Robin looks up, then, mouth a pursed twist as she tries not to laugh. "Gross, Eddie." She throws a Sour Patch at him. "Keep all that mushy stuff to when you two are alone."

It's his turn to blush, fierce and raging, and Steve whirls, squeaking, to whack Robin with a Twizzler.

Eddie points at her. "Rude, Buckley. You know I love you too."

"Again, gross." She sticks out her tongue, tinged blue from the Sour Patch.

"We really need to work on your ability to accept affection," Steve tells her.

She scowls, kicks him, makes Eddie laugh.

"I think that's my cue to leave, children." He says. He, quite literally, bows out of the store, just missing the barrage of candy thrown his way.

---

Three Months Later

Eddie stumbles into the Harrington house, kicking his boots off by the door. Steve's in the kitchen, fussing around the stove. His hair's askew and he's--

"Harrington, are you wearing an apron?" He ignores the kick in his chest at the sight. "You'll make a sweet little housewife one day."

"Shut-up," Steve says without any heat. "Try this."

He brandishes a spoon filled with red sauce in Eddie's direction, and Eddie--heart always on his sleeve--eagerly leans in to taste. He closes his eyes, savors, and it's good, truly. Perfect fresh acidity with just a burst of sweetness.

"It's amazing, baby," he says without thinking. He opens his eyes right in time to see Steve turning back to the sauce, blush high on his cheekbones.

"Thanks. You're making me nervous though, hovering." Steve hip checks him. "Go sit somewhere."

And Eddie does, jumps onto the island--the Harrington's are the kind of people who have an island--and chatters to Steve about his day, about his new campaign, about the new song he's trying to learn.

All the while, he's watching Steve cook, in his apron, with such care and thoughtfulness, with true command. Maybe it's the domesticity of the scene, maybe his raging crush, but he has this flash of the two of them in the future. In their kitchen, Steve cooking dinner, and Eddie's arms are wrapped around his waist, he's pressing kisses to his temple, complimenting all his hard work and--

Steve feeds him a bite of the finished pasta, and it's so good that he groans, full-throated, unembarrassed, and says--he says, "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington."

He laughs, face pink, batting Eddie's shoulder. "Go sit down, man. It's time to eat."

---

Two Months After That

Eddie's working on a new campaign when the storm rolls in, wind rocking the trailer, thunder and lightning crackling in the sky. The power doesn't go out, but only just barely, the flickers making his heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with weather.

There's a knock on the trailer door, and he opens it to find Steve Harrington standing on the porch, hair plastered to his head, clothes soaked. Robin's bike is propped against one of the awning supports. Familiar panic snaps to life in his gut.

"God, Steve, are you okay? Did something happen? That's Robin's bike, where's the Beamer? Is it--is it Vecna? Is--" He's blabbering can't stop, so he shoves his palm against his lips.

"It's not--not Upside Down stuff." He runs a hand through his soggy hair. "Can I come in, man? I--I want to tell you something."

This snaps Eddie out of his panic, and he's moving aside, saying, "Oh my god, get in here, you're soaked. Let me get towels. Do you want a change of clothes, I can--"

Steve catches him by the elbow and he full stops at the look in those big hazel eyes, fearful and sad and he doesn't know what, but his anxiety amps back up.

"I was with Robin and we were--we were talking, you know? And I told her that I like somebody, like really like them, but it was unexpected and--and--it's a guy. He's a guy but I still like girls? Robin said--she said that I'm probably bisexual. That I like guys and girls and--and everyone, I think."

It sends shockwaves through him, and he hopes it doesn't show, doesn't think it shows, but he's having trouble processing. Steve is bi and he likes someone and--Eddie stuffs down the jealousy that claws at him, knows it's more important that he's here for his friend.

"Thank you for telling me, sweetheart." He reaches out, slow in case Steve doesn't want to be hugged, but he launches himself into Eddie's arms.

Eddie holds him tight, heedless of his wet clothes, can feel his shoulders shake, and it tears Eddie's heart in two. All he can do is hold Steve and offer comfort, jealousy be damned.

"You're so brave, honey," he says once the tears taper off.

Steve gives a wet chuckle, face still buried against Eddie's neck. "I don't know about that. I think I got snot in your hair."

"It'll wash out." He laughs. "Is now the time to welcome you to the family? Apparently, we're growing exponentially."

"Does the welcome include a cake or something? I could really use cake."

And God, Steve, is so fucking cute, so sweet, so--everything Eddie has always wanted, and he--it's an accident, or at least, thoughtless--he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. More than one.

Steve pulls back fast, and Eddie lets go immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I--that was stupid. You like someone already, and I--"

His words are cut off as Steve kisses him. Steve kisses him? His brain can't process, but he kisses back. Can't not, not with Steve. Like, he doesn't know anything, head empty, but his body is with the program.

They break apart, he's breathing hard. Steve is beautifully flushed, mouth red and swollen. "You like someone," is what Eddie says.

Steve laughs. "I like you, Munson. Fucking crazy about you."

He smiles, so big it hurts, so big it grows into a delight laugh. "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he says.

---

Six Years Later

They're in bed, Saturday morning, rain pattering softly on the window.

Steve places slow kisses against his naked tummy, makes him tremble, shiver with overstimulation.

"Baby," he whines. "Sweetheart."

Steve smiles up at him, something cold pressing against his ribs, then into his hand.

It's a ring, black metal, shiny and iridescent as he turns it in the light. "What--Steve?"

With one last kiss to his hip bone, Steve sits up, slips the ring onto Eddie's finger. "I'm going to marry you one day, Eddie Munson."

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

There’s a Beta standing in Eddie’s doorway. She’s slim, choppy ginger hair and red boots poking out from under the cuffs of her denim dungarees – Eddie likes her pretty much immediately.

She’s holding a plate.

She hasn’t managed to speak yet, but from down the hall, Eddie hears a voice hiss, “Robin!”

They both turn to look. The Omega of Eddie’s dreams face and...tummy...are both poking out of the doorway. He looks mortified.

“So sorry,” the Beta starts, “Steve was too embarrassed to come and ask a second time, but he’s basically had his nose pressed to the door for the past half an hour so…” she holds out the plate.

From down the hall, very faintly, the Omega, who Eddie now knows must be called ‘Steve,’ whines, “why are you like this,” and then clicks the door shut.

“I’m Robin, by the way,” and she holds out her non plate hand to shake.

Eddie ends up shaking one hand and taking the plate from the other. Eddie knew, objectively, that Steve must have a partner, but he still has to squish the disappointment of meeting them. “Eddie...just, give me a second. It’s chicken parm.”

Eddie goes and dishes up a portion, it was going to be tomorrows lunch but...he can’t deny the pretty little Omega anything. Maybe he should start cooking extra extras, even if Steve doesn’t come knocking, at least it’s a meal he can have another time.

“This is one of his favorites, no wonder he was so restless about it.”

“Yeah, well, anytime,” and Eddie could add that Robin should be making Steve’s favorites, but he doesn’t because he’s pretty sure Robin is cool and he already knows Steve is sweet and he’s just not that kind of person.

Much.

“I’m sorry, you’ve done what to the pulled pork?”

“Orange and Oregano, trust me Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind.”

“Uh hu, and someone else's by the look of it, you’ve cooked enough for us and that Omega guy twice over.” Eddie just rolls his eyes. “You got all your shit put away then?”

“Pretty much, and leave that alone.”

Dustin huffs but puts the spoon down and replaces the lid on the crock pot, “what are we having with it?”

“Was going to do dirty fries.”

“Oh my god. You’re a saint. A hero. You should be knighted like ye olde dragon-slayers of yore-”

“Yeah yeah, this will not score you any extra loot later.”

“Mayhap a smidgen of exper-” Dustin stops at the sound of knocking, looking to the door. “Is it your Omega?” He whisper hisses at Eddie.

“He’s not mine, he’s got a girlfriend,” Eddie whisper hisses back.

Doesn’t stop him pulling his shirt straight and tugging at his jeans and fluffing his hair real quick on the way to the door. All of that is kind of...reflexive, though.

Dustin’s smirk is actually slap worthy, and Eddie will get to that right after he answers the door.

“I am so sorry about this,” Steve is saying before Eddie even has the door fully open, “and I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I thought I could at least contribute.” He’s holding two plates, one empty, one stacked up with cookies, “they’re Reese’s.”

And Eddie’s mouth is watering, not just from the scent of Steve, but because he can see the chunks of partially melted Reese's pieces sticking out of the cookies, “they look incredible, thank you,” Eddie takes both plates, “it’s not actually ready yet, can I drop it by in like, thirty minutes?”

“Oh you are my hero,” Steve beams at him. It’s a happy smile, a smile that comes with the scent of pleased Omega. Happy Omega. Happy Omega with pup. The kind of smile and scent that digs it’s hooks deep into Eddie’s brain and fucking yanks.

“It’s pulled pork, would you rather fries or rice?” Eddie finds himself asking, completely on auto pilot.

“Whatever is easiest. Whatever you were already planning. Thank you so so much Eddie.”

Eddie watches Steve waddle back to his apartment down the hall before he turns, a plate in each hand, and nudges the door closed with his foot.

“Thank you so much Eddie. I made you cookies Eddie,” Dustin simpers from the couch, before making kissey noises.

“Oh shut the fuck up.”

Eddie stands in the hallway in his crocs. His apartment is new, so he has a strict no shoes policy; but he has a pair of crocs for in the hall and heading outside real quick. Also, they're comfortable as fuck, so Eddie refuses to be judged.

Especially since they’re black, and Dustin got him all these little button things that pop in the holes. Little swords and shields and D20’s and stuff. So they’re super cool.

Steve opens the door, wincing, one hand resting on the small of his back, but his face blooms back into the beautiful smile at the sight of Eddie. It does something, very briefly, to Eddie. That reaction. And then he viciously reminds himself that the reaction was for Eddie’s food and not at all for Eddie himself.

Steve goes to take the plate but, “it’s hot, I warmed the plate up in the stove, let me put it down somewhere for you?” A trick Eddie learned in his month of working in a kitchen one Christmas when he was a teenager, but it never left him, and he didn't want Steve’s dinner to go cold.

“Oh, gosh, you’re so thoughtful Eddie, come right in.”

Eddie’s heart gives a little flutter at Steve’s praise, and Steve shifts out of the way, letting Eddie into an apartment that’s a mirror of his own. It’s very neat and tidy inside; everything very clearly has a place. Nothing looks brand new, but everything does look well cared for.

Steve directs Eddie to the little two seater dining table, where there’s a place set. It’s so freaking adorable, a place mat with flowers and kittens printed on it, a white folded napkin, cutlery and a glass of juice set out. A single daffodil in a tiny vase.

Eddie puts the plate down carefully, turning to see Steve blushing furiously. “Sorry, I don’t get out much and I wanted to make it nice.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s cute,” Eddie says, even as he feels himself grow irritated yet again with Robin, Steve’s nose twitches, eyeing Eddie with concern, so he does his best to push it down, “well,” Eddie tries his best to be cheerful, “I really hope you enjoy it. Maybe your girlfriend will take you out tomorrow?” He tries to say that with no hint of spite whatsoever.

Steve blinks at him, “girlfriend?”

“Robin? I thought...aren’t you two..?”

Steve snorts a laugh, actually ugly laughs and snorts like a cute little piggy and has to bring his hand up to his face to try and hide his reaction, “no. No, she’s my best friend. She’s home with her girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Eddie says, processing, “oh. Right sorry, I just, assumed…” he can’t stop his eyes from, briefly, flicking to Steve’s tummy.

“It’s okay,” Steve’s smiling at him, “you can ask.”

“Well...I mean when I thought you were with Robin I just assumed you’d used a donor or…”

“Yep!” Steve pops the ‘P’. “I did do that, and I did go to the appointments with Robin, but I’m single. Going it alone.”

And then Steve does quite possibly the sexiest thing Eddie’s ever seen in his entire life; he bares his throat, “see, no bite.”

Eddie has to clear his throat and shift a little where he's standing, lest his inconvenient biological reaction become overly obvious, “why did you decide to, uhm…”

Steve shrugs, smiling happily, “guess I just never was lucky enough to meet the right Alpha.”

And then Steve’s tummy rumbles very aggressively.

“I’ll let you eat your-”

“Gosh excuse me I’m-”

They speak at the same time, and then both end up laughing.

“I’ll leave you to your dinner,”

“Thanks again Eddie, I really do appreciate it.”

Part three

[luveline]

kbd —Steve helps an emotional you downstairs to sate some late night cravings. pregnant!reader, 1.3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Steve stirs at the top of the bed to the sound of pinging springs. He rubs his eye, feels sleep free itself from his lashes as he pushes onto an elbow. 

“Honey?” he asks. 

You turn to him with a frown. “Sorry.” 

Steve doesn’t want you to be sorry, he was just figuring out which of his best girls it was moving around. He forces himself to sit up and turn on the lamp, unveiling the sight of you at the end of the bed in your maternity pyjamas, flowy blue fabric with white polka dots you’d bought to match Beth’s. 

“You need help?” he asks. 

You sound like you’re having a hard time breathing. “I’m trying to put my socks on.” 

“Yeah? You wanna go downstairs?” 

You always put your socks on before you go downstairs at night or in the early morning. The floors get cold no matter what you and he try to do to prevent it. He promises one day you’ll have enough money for heated floors. He’s not sure where he thinks that money is coming from. 

“I’m gonna go have some ice cream.” 

Your night time cravings lately are unstoppable. Steve pushes the sheets back and round the bed to the end, giving your face a short touch, and then getting down on his knees in front of you with his hands held out for your socks. He’d offer to go get it for you, but you’ll say no, he’s too tired. The only loophole he’s found for this is coming with you. 

You give him your socks and a sorry smile. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. You know what I say.” 

“Can’t sleep without me.” 

He bunches your sock up and rolls it over your toes and up past your heel, your ankle. He does it gently like he’s rolling them onto one of the kids’ feet, he can’t really help himself. He likes being gentle with you. You can’t see your toes, so you might as well have him be kind to them. 

“Can’t sleep without you,” he agrees, again bunching up the fabric of your sock to roll over your toes and heel. 

He tugs it up straight on your calf and leaves his hand there for a selfish squeeze. “There, now you’re ready. Want your robe too?” 

You frown suddenly, a familiar twist of your mouth and nose, eyebrows pinching down as your eyes fill with tears. He shakes his head at you before you can talk, his hand moving to your knee for sympathetic rubbing. “Don’t cry.” 

“You’re so nice to me.” 

“I love you,” he says, pushing himself up to stand and hug you. “Please don’t cry, Y/N, it’s just socks. I love putting your socks on for you.” 

“You treat me like a princess,” you say with a sniff. 

“You deserve it,” he promises. He wraps his arms around your head and neck, kissing your forehead with a loving sigh. “You do. Please don’t cry.” 

Once you start you can’t stop. Steve doesn’t mind calming you down, it’s not like it isn’t exactly what he signed up for, but getting upset is never good for the baby or your extremely stressed body. “Please,” he murmurs, “let’s go downstairs, okay?” 

“Okay,” you say, voice thick with tears. 

Steve wraps you in a blanket and ushers you through the master bedroom door. Your pregnancy hormones are as off the charts as they’ve ever been, though last month you’d been quite snappy. This week you’re crying multiple times a day every day. Steve keeps waiting to run out of patience, but he has a good few kids, and you’re not doing anything wrong anyways. So what if you’re crying all the time? He can’t imagine how stressful it is to be that tired and heavy like this, or how many hormones are pumping through you at the moment. He got you pregnant. It’s his job to mitigate the symptoms to the best of his ability. 

You sit down at the table, knowing without asking that he’s going to get your ice cream. He grabs it from the freezer with your favourite spoon (not so big, not so little), and passes you both with a smile. 

“There, honey.” 

Before he met you, Steve wasn’t used to pet names. He’d say baby and babe, he was a player, then heartbroken, and they’d come out weird because he didn’t really mean them, or he didn’t get what they meant in the first place. He calls you honey and he feels at once like the husband he is but it’s more than that. You’re his honey. You deserve to know how much you mean to him with every sentence he says, and there’s no easier way to do that than to pester you with pet names. 

You use them just as much as he does. “Thanks, handsome.” 

“Do you want anything else?” 

Again, your frown, tears in your eyes as you peel the lid off of pint and pick up your spoon. “I’m fine,” you say tearily. 

Steve scoots a chair as close to yours as is physically possible and sits, his hand falling to your knee. He’d squeeze your thigh if it wasn’t impeded by the round hill of your bump, the biggest it’s ever been. From the start of next week onward you can expect to go into labour. Within the month, you’ll have had the baby. 

Steve can’t wait for it, and he’ll bet you can’t wait to be done. He says your name softly, giving the side of your leg a great massage, “Y/N, it’s okay.” 

“I know, I just love you,” you say through a mouthful of ice cream, the spoon still on your lips. 

“I love you too, honey, don’t worry about it.” 

“Do you want some?” 

He knows saying no won’t help. It’s probably four in the morning and he can’t imagine anything less appetising at the late hour, but he says, “Yeah. Just a little bit. I’m watching my figure.” 

You laugh, still full of tears, and scoop up some ice cream to feed him. When he’s had it, he presses forward for a kiss, to your delight. Steve doesn’t mean to brag, but he knows you well. Cheering you up is easy. He steals a second kiss just for him and beams at the reaction it invokes, breathless laughter that doesn’t fade as you scoop up another spoonful of ice cream. 

“How come the baby never wants something we can keep in the bedroom?” Steve asks. 

“She’s like her sisters.” 

“Yes she is,” Steve says, moving in for another squeeze of your leg. “Can’t wait to meet her.” 

You lean your head on his shoulder, ice cream dripping from your spoon. “She can’t wait to meet you, Steve. She’s kicking every time she hears your voice. I think she knows how good you are to me.” You clear your throat. “She can tell you’re the nicest guy ever.” 

He shushes you tenderly. “Come on, honey, no more crying. I’ll have to start being mean to you instead, nobody wants that, I don’t want that.” 

“Please don’t be mean to me.” 

Your hurt voice startles him. “I’m just kidding.” He kisses your temple. “You think I’d do that? I can’t do that to you, babe, I don’t want to.” 

He spends twenty minutes convincing you he was just kidding while you weep into his shoulder. 

Poor girl, he thinks sorrily.

[incorrectbatfam]

Bruce goes to meet the other fathers? Have a barbecue with Clark, Oliver, Berry and talk about their kids?

"Damian told me that I was cool, it's been a while since one of my kids told me that" or "Mia is doing so well at school these days"

those moments when they are all (old men) father proud of the mess the kids are?

The dads: *lounging on beach chairs*

Clark: It's nice to finally get a day off. I think Jon needed it more than me. He's still reeling from growing up and suddenly turning back into a kid again.

Ollie: How'd that happen, anyway?

Duke, walking by: That's just this blog.

Clark: What?

Duke: Nothing. Hey, B, can we use the jacuzzi?

Bruce: Sure, go ahead.

Duke: *gives Emiko a thumbs up*

Emiko: *drains the jacuzzi*

Harper and Cullen: *start cleaning the pipes*

Ollie: I know how you feel, Clark. Roy's the happiest I've seen him with Lian back but it's still a big change. We're working on getting her enrolled in school this fall so she can catch up on what she's missed.

Roy: *sprays the tub with disinfectant*

Jason: *dries it with a leaf blower*

Hal: Speaking of changes, Jaime graduated with honors. I know he's not my kid but I can't help but feel like a proud uncle. Kyle got a new concept artist job, by the way, and I think he really likes it.

Jaime: *turns the jacuzzi back on*

Kyle: *sets up folding tables*

Barry, chuckling: Bart tried to enter a marathon the other day.

Clark: Kon wanted to pay money to go skydiving. I don't get it.

Aquaman: I remember when Kaldur joined an amateur scuba class at that age. Perhaps it's an attempt to feel more human.

Bruce: It's easy for us to forget sometimes too.

Kon, carrying a giant pot: Boiling hot soup, coming through!

Kon: *pours it into the jacuzzi*

Cass: *adds spices*

Tim, with a clipboard: One down, eleven more to go. Bart, stop eating the ingredients.

Bart: It's just tofu.

Tim: That's for Damian. What's he gonna do now, starve?

Bruce: Dick's been coming home more often lately. I can tell Alfred's really happy when he sees us all together.

Dick: *drapes tablecloths over the tables*

Wally: *sets up plates*

Steve, walking in: Mind if I join? Diana's running a little late so she sent me and the girls ahead.

Clark: Of course, feel free.

Donna, holding a basket: Where do these vegetables go?

Barbara: I'll take them. Could one of you get some spoons from the kitchen?

Cassie: On it.

Steve: So where are all the ladies?

Bruce: They're in the living room. Selina's showing off her latest... um... collection. Alfred has tea in the kitchen if you want some.

Steve: Don't mind if I do.

Yara: Should I put the meat in now?

Jon: One sec.

Jon: *scoops some soup aside*

Jon: You're good now. I just needed a vegetarian portion for Dami.

Kon: MORE SOUP COMING!

Ollie: Honestly, I'm surprised everyone's doing fairly well given the industry we're in.

Steph, leading a crowd into the yard: And here's where our main event will be.

Bette: *checking names off a guest list*

Bette: That's almost everyone. Wonder Woman and Martian Manhunter are gonna be a little late. Avery's on a mission in Shanghai so she can't make it. Beast Boy and Raven stopped to buy desserts. And the We Are Robin kids just got stuck on a stalled subway train but they should be here pretty soon.

Clark: I think it's a matter of good mentorship and giving them plenty of time and space to get acclimated to the superhero lifestyle.

Jesse: *making lemonade*

Ace: *fills the coolers with ice*

Garth and Kaldur: *handing out drinks*

Barry: And giving them plenty of room to grow at their own pace.

Hal: Very true.

Bruce, sighing contently: You can't help but be proud of them.

The kids, chanting: HOT POT! HOT POT!