Support System Pt. 5

Support System pt. 5

Yes, this is the second update in one day... what of it? That picture of his thighs made me do it.

Chapter 5

The rest of the week goes as you’d originally planned for the most part. Lexie was absolutely fine to go to school the next day and you’d already worked out your work plans based on when you were actively trying to avoid Roy. Now, you weren’t so sure that you wanted to do that. By Thursday, you could feel a low ache inside but couldn’t put a finger on it. Work hadn’t been happy that you’d ducked out on Monday afternoon, but you’d tried to fight your corner. It became clearer that they weren’t the business you wanted to work for.

It had left an annoying feeling behind that no matter what you did, you weren’t enough for them. So much so, that by Wednesday, you took in a letter of resignation. They made some noise about becoming more flexible but not wanting to alienate other people who worked for them - they called it ‘special treatment’. You’d argued that everyone should be given more flexibility and more support in their work-life balance - no matter what that life outside of work looked like. They’d painted you as the bad guy and made it look like Lexie was the reason for needing flexibility when, really, you wanted the same for everyone in the business. Giving two months' notice terrified you, it accelerated the need to find a new job. You had savings, but they wouldn’t cover your bills forever. Every night saw you scouring the job sites for something as close to Richmond as possible. But all of that wasn’t the cause of the ache. It was more of an anticipation. Butterflies at rest. You’re approaching the school doors on Thursday afternoon, getting ready to join the queue of people picking up, when you see both Sara and Roy. The butterflies are suddenly up in arms, and the ache explodes into something more. Oh shit.

“Hey! Has your week picked up? Roy said he had to rescue you on Monday, was Andy a total dickbag?”

“Oh god he was horrible, I have no idea looking back now why the fuck I married him. And my week is bloody terrible - I quit my job.”

“What?!”

“Why the fuck did you do that?”

“I couldn’t carry on the way I was, it was a nightmare. With both them and Andy not being remotely supportive it just makes life so difficult.”

“What are you gonna do?” Roy frowned.

“I’m looking for something closer to Richmond if possible. If not, then the city is fine but the company has got to be a bit more progressive than where I am now. Trouble is there’s not much call for deputy Directors.”

“What about skipping the deputy bit?” Sara asked. You shake your head,

“Don’t think it’ll work. Typically that would be too much - more hours, more demanding. I love my work and I can handle demanding - like, really demanding. But I desperately need the flexibility so I can be around for Lexie.” Sara nodded.

“I get you. You should get yourself a Roy, they’re invaluable.” She poked her brother lovingly. You ignore the comment and the fuck off he responds with. “Easter holidays next week! Are you doing anything?”

“I was going to try and go away for the day somewhere. Jump on the train down to Brighton or something?”

“That’s a great idea! I’m off for a couple of days - we should all go.” The girls pour out of school hand in hand and you agree with Sara to plan a beach day trip. In the meantime though, the girls demand another sleepover. “I’m working honey, but if Uncle Roy can take you then of course you can go. As long as it’s ok with Lexie’s mum.”

“Course it is. I’d love to have you, Phoebe. Friday or Saturday, whichever is easiest for you.” You tell Roy.

“Do Saturday and you can all come to the match on Sunday?”

“Yeah, ok, we’d like that.” You smile and the butterflies go crazy. 

~~~~~~~

Lexie insists on a full on pajama party for her sleepover, she makes you bring blankets and pillows downstairs and banishes you to any other room - preferably the kitchen so you can keep them supplied with snacks. By the time Phoebe arrives at 4pm, she’s transformed the living room into some sort of Disney inspired boudoir.

“Come in.” You smile at them both, opening the door wide. Phoebe heads straight for the living room and the door is firmly closed. “Well… I guess they don’t need me.”

“What are you going to do instead?” Roy asks curiously.

“I have a book and a bottle of wine in the kitchen, that’s me all set.” Giggles and bangs sound from the next room, “Not sure I’ll be getting much sleep though. Beer? Wine?”

“Yeah go on then.” He follows you to the kitchen and picks up your book before he’s even sat down. After reading the blurb he takes a picture of the cover.

“You can have it when I’m done.” You offer, turning down the speaker which had been blasting Taylor Swift a little too loudly.

“Not you as well,” he pointed at the speaker. “This is all I get to listen to.”

“They’re 8. She’s like their queen. And yes, I can’t help listening to it as well.” You smile. “Would you like to stay for dinner? I can’t promise Anna and Elsa will join us, but you’re still welcome to stick around.”

“Thanks.” Watching you potter around the kitchen for a while, he picks up the book, makes sure to save your place and flips to the beginning. Assuming he’s engrossed, you concentrate on cutting bell peppers and onions for fajitas, the silence is comfortable, he’s so quiet you pretty much forget he’s there. The music still plays in the background,

“All I know is this could either break my heart or bring it back to life. Got a feelin' your electric touch could fill this ghost town up with life. And I want you now, wanna need you forever. In the heat of your electric touch,” you sing softly, bopping to the music. It’s not until you go into the pantry under the stairs for spices and see him at the table, watching you, that you remember he’s there. “Fajitas ok?” You stop short and clear your throat. There’s a smile just bubbling in the corner of his mouth, waiting to break free.

“Forget you had company?”

“Fuck off. Maybe.”

“Fajitas are great, thanks.” You forget shyness and awkwardness. It’s your new favourite song so despite his presence, you carry on as you were with slightly less dancing. The girls are persuaded to join you for dinner, even helping you with the homemade guacamole. Roy puts up with the three of you singing along to Taylor Swift at various pitches. “You sound like a bunch of fucking cats.” Phoebe responds by singing loudly down his ear with her wooden spoon microphone.

When the girls are settled with popcorn and a film, you see him to the door. “You’re not stupid, you know.”

“Pardon?”

“Last week. You called yourself stupid. Fucking repeatedly actually, and you’re wrong.”

“Oh. Umm… thanks. Felt pretty stupid. Anyway, like I said, I made a mistake.”

“Yep. Begged me to forget it.” He said quietly. The way he lingered on his words had your heart thumping and your body flooding with desire. You’re sure you must be trembling, your thighs press together and you swear you could come apart just from the way he’s looking at you. But then the girls are dancing through the hall and it’s a sharp reminder that you’re not alone. You see the disappointment flicker in his eyes right before he gives you a small smile, “goodnight. Call me if Phoebe starts playing up. Tickets are waiting for you for the match tomorrow.” You nod, not sure you can trust your voice to stay steady, not really sure you can trust yourself to put a full sentence together.

“Bye.” You whisper. 

~~~~~~

“Lexie! Come on, we need to go and get the train!”

“I can’t find my goggles!”

“You don’t need goggles, darling, the sea is going to be freezing! I know it’s a heatwave but I don’t expect much swimming!” Who were you kidding, two 8 year olds in a heatwave would absolutely be getting in the sea at the first opportunity. You had a beach bag packed with suncream, towels and everything else you could possibly need. You and Sara had planned together so that you didn’t duplicate and have too much to carry. “Lexie! Let’s go!” She bounces down the stairs and straight out the door, leaving you trailing after her. At the station, Sara and Phoebe are already waiting and you're surprised to see Roy with them. “Sorry, couldn’t get Lexie out the door!” You hadn’t seen Roy since the night the girls had their sleepover, apart from seeing him down at pitchside for the football match. It was Tuesday and the last couple of days had felt like an eternity. You feel his eyes looking you up and down as you approach the platform. You get on the tube into the city and change for the train to Brighton. The Easter holidays meant everyone had a similar idea and the trains are packed and hot. Your sundress and hat are no match for the heat, you have to take your hat off and use it to fan both you and Sara. You’ve given the girls the only two seats you could find so the three of you stand to one side to keep the aisle clear.

“Fuck this. I should have driven.”

“Where’s the fun in that!” Sara laughed.

“How are you not hot?” You ask, he’s still in jeans and a t-shirt.

“Thought I was?” He asked quietly while Sara was distracted looking back to check on the girls. You roll your eyes and shake your head, turning away from him to look out of the window. “You look lovely.” He adds, putting a hand on your hip as the train sways you from side to side. He doesn’t move it once the train has steadied. When you get there, you follow the crowds down to the beach, the girls running slightly ahead and Sara and Roy either side of you. As you get closer to the beach, Sara steps in between the girls and takes their hand to keep them close. You get caught up in a group of people but you can still see Sara up in front. Through the crowd, a hand takes yours and pulls you in. Roy interlinks your fingers. “Don’t get fucking lost, we’ll never find you.” He says. Sara waves that she’s found a space and you make your way in her direction, not letting go of his hand. The second you put Lexie’s hat back on her head after smothering her in suncream, she grabs Phoebe’s hand and runs to the sea.

“Stay in sight!” Sara tries shouting after them but it’s impossible to tell whether they’ve heard. 

“I’ll go,” you offer with a grimace, “let’s see how fucking cold it is.” You kick off your sandals and pull your sundress over your head, revealing a royal blue swimsuit underneath.

“Aha!” Sara stops you and throws a bottle in your direction, “cream first. I’ll go and find us some drinks. Beers?”

“Ooh yes please.” She goes off in the direction of the beach vendors. You spray your shoulders and arms with the sticky cream, trying to get as much of your back as you can. Once you’ve finished, you pass the bottle to Roy, avoiding his gaze.

“Be careful,” he says softly, you can’t see his eyes through his dark sunglasses, fortunately. You squeal as the water hits your legs,

“It’s fucking freezing!” You shout to Sara as she returns with three bottles of beer and two of fizzy pop. She leaves everything with Roy and joins you as you watch the girls play mermaids in the cool, shallow water. “This was such a good idea. I needed this.” You hold your hat and look up to the sky, basking in the warm sunshine. 

“Such a good idea,” she agrees. “Though I thought Roy’s brain was going to short circuit when you pulled that bloody dress off! God, it was bad enough when you came down onto the platform earlier - I think he stopped breathing! But then with that underneath,” she gestures up and down your body and whistled,

“Oh don’t be daft.”

“I’m not, you look great. And Roy thinks so too.”

“Hmm if you say so.”

“I’m his sister. I have met every woman he’s ever brought home. Every model, actress, singer… you name it. Back then, when he was younger, he did it because he knew it was what was expected of a hotshot footballer for Chelsea. You get the hot girls. But fuck, they were boring. He was boring when he was with them! Since he’s gotten older, he doesn’t give a shit. Dates whoever he wants. Keeley was lovely but not quite right for him. He might look and act like a grumpy fucker, but he has so much love to give and he wants to be loved. He’s intense, I know. But when he finds the right person, god she’s never going to want for anything.” You’ve both waded into the water up to your thighs, your hands drift across the top of the water. 

“I’ve never been loved like that.” You admit.

“Me either. Be pretty fucking good wouldn’t it?” She laughs. "Also, we definitely deserve it."

"Oh god, we really fucking deserve it!" 

~~~~~~~

You manage to persuade the girls to get out of the water for a bit so you can get food. While you've been gone, Roy has dug the girls beach towels from the bags, changed into shorts and is reading. You'd happily thank every god, deity, or lucky star for the sunglasses you're wearing because your eyes are drawn to his legs as if you haven't seen him play football for as long as you can remember. The sun dries you quickly so you pull your dress back on. "Who wants food?" You ask the girls, who are eager to agree. "I see chips. I'll be back as soon as I can, Lexie, be good for Sara and Roy please." 

"I'll help." Roy's on his feet before Sara who wiggles her toes in the sand and waves you both off. It's a short walk to the beach bar, but it's busy so Roy gets you both a beer while you wait. Space is limited but there's one side of a picnic bench spare for you to share. Your knees knock together as people squeeze by and there's hardly enough room for you to sit side by side. He turns on the bench to put one leg either side of the seat and you mirror him. Your back is to his chest but you don't lean back into him. His fingertip traces the strap of your dress from the top of your shoulder down to where it joined the back of your dress, across the centre of your back and up the other strap. His touch makes you shiver, even in the heat of the sun. "You need more cream, you're going pink," he said, "and you have freckles here." His knuckle grazes a line from the back of your ear into the dip of your neck and it's all you can do to breathe normally. The waitress comes over with a tray full of food cartons which you accept, grateful to give your hands something to do. You get up from the bench and hold the tray in one hand so you can offer the other to Roy while he bears his weight on his bad knee to get up from the table. You did it with such little fuss or acknowledgement that he's left staring after you as you start back down the beach to Sara and the girls. You find shade in the afternoon and take it in turns sitting with the bags to get out of the heat while the girls barely stop for more suncream and water. By the time you all pile back into the train home, they're exhausted and you're not much more awake. The return journey is quieter so you get a table with 4 seats. The girls squeeze into one and fall asleep almost instantly. Sara curls into Phoebe and watches out the window. She smiles across at you,

"Such a fucking great idea." She repeats your comment from earlier. 

"We're stopping over next time," you laugh quietly so you don't wake the kids, "I'm knackered!" She agrees and lets her eyes close. You do the same thing, your head coming to rest on Roy's shoulder. As you get back into the city, he brushes the hair from your eyes, 

"Time to wake up, nearly home." Your initial reaction is to push your face further into him, but this only makes him laugh. "Come on, and you," he kicks Sara under the table. No one is happy to be woken up. You drag yourselves to the underground, into a train back to Richmond and finally into Roy's car. It's not even that late - but it's been a long day. He drops Phoebe and Sara off first and then makes his way to yours. Living between the two has been a big bonus in terms of how much they've helped out with Lexie. She's asleep in the car, so he picks her up and carries her up the path. Once you've unlocked the house, he puts her on the sofa while you dump the overflowing bags in the hallway - forgotten hats and stuffed toys from the arcade spilling out. 

"Beer?" You whisper from the doorway, and he nods. You drink them standing side by side in the kitchen. You can't wait for a shower, your skin feels sticky with suncream, sea water, and the ice cream and sweets you've been eating all day. He pushes you gently with his arm, 

"Today was fucking brilliant."

"It really was. You must have spent a fortune winning those toys for the girls."

"Worth it. Won one for you as well, don't forget."

"How could I? I've always wanted a neon pink rubber duck." You grin. "It can keep me company in the bath."

"You're fucking killing me." He mutters, shaking his head. 

"What?"

"I've had to watch you in that swimsuit all fucking day and then you go and say shit like that?" He puts his empty bottle down and turns to stand in front of you, one hand either side of you on the kitchen counter. You're boxed in, but he's giving you enough space. You can tell he's giving you just enough time to say no, if that's what you want to do. You hold his gaze and don't say anything, the tiniest glance at his mouth is all the confirmation he needs to take the same step forward as he did a couple of weeks before. This time when his nose brushes against yours, it's less timid. He captures your mouth in a hot and fierce kiss. You turn your head just so, giving him better access and the hands that had stayed patiently on the counter were on you in half a second. One up in your hair and the other on your hip, your waist, the small of your back, bringing you as close as possible. Your hands move up his arms and around his neck, nails dragging through his hair. You've never been kissed like this before, never. It's so full of longing that it takes your breath away. His body presses against you, pushing you into the counter, his good knee between yours. Your head falls back so you can try to catch your breath but it's impossible when he moves to kiss a path down your neck. You can't help but moan as he nips at your sunburnt skin. You want more, so much more, but you know Lexie is only in the next room and the last thing you'd want is for her to wake up. The kiss has you in pieces already, it's intoxicating. He comes back to your mouth again for a slightly tamer kiss, "you taste like sunshine," he smiles. You open your eyes just to see it and it's beautiful. Both breathless, he takes the smallest step back. Somewhere in the hallway, your phone rings, bringing you both back to reality. You let it ring, reluctant to move away from his touch, eyes still only on each other, when Lexie brings the phone in with a big yawn.

"It's daddy." She says, handing it to you, and you see the defeat in Roy's eyes.

~~~~~

Hi Bee,

OK I got a Nurse Steve request for you. I was thinking tooth rotting fluff. I'm thinking it's been a few days since Cami was brought home and Steve doesn't leave her side. He's talking to her in a baby voice, badly singing, watching her every movement, telling her that if she ever considers dating Uncle Eddie and Aunt Robin will help bury the body..etc. The reader watches smiling, Steve's sees her his eyes light up with so much love. He knows its time for Cami to eat he says something like "Mommy's the best, she's going to feed you, just go easy on her " Or something like that. Then he kisses the reader, presses their foreheads looking into her eyes saying. "Thank you for everything, my clumsy girl"

(Let me know what you think <3)

AN | Okay, but imagine Stevie and his clumsy girl bringing home baby Camila 🥺 This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Camila May Harrington had been home for almost a week. 

And it had been singularly the best and most stressful week of Steve’s life. There wasn’t a way for him to properly describe the feeling that came from being at home with his wife and daughter. To put in simple terms it was the best feeling in the entire world; he had everything he could have ever wanted. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you were lying in bed, thoroughly exhausted but happy. You were hoping to squeeze in a few hours of sleep before Cami woke up again; it was hard adjusting to the sleep schedule of a newborn, but at least you’d had some practice with the last trimester of pregnancy where you could barely sleep yourself. 

“Hey,” Steve whispered softly, shifting over to face you, a sleepy smile on his own face. He reached over and tenderly brushed his knuckles over your cheek, causing you to lean into his touch.

“Hey yourself,” you reached for his hand and brought to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to it, “do you think we’ll be able to get some sleep for real this time?”

“I think we might be in the clear,” he laughed softly, draping an arm over your waist and pulling you closer to his warm body, “maybe Cami will have some pity on her poor old parents.”

“Can’t even blame her but fuck, this is hard,” you hated saying the words out loud but if anyone in the world understood what you were going through it would be him. He knew, at least technically, all that your body was going through. Plus he was there with you in the thick of it all; you were so thankful that he’d taken time off to be home with the two of you, “I love her so much but do you think it’ll get easier? Am I…am I a bad mother?”

“Angel,” he tutted gently and shook his head, “it will get easier, I promise. We’re adjusting to a whole new little person being with us, and having to be the people that keep that little person alive and happy. It’s a big change and responsibility but it’ll get better the longer we do it. And you are not a bad mother. You’re amazing-”

“How do you know? It’s barely been over a week,” you felt the tears well up but Steve pressed a kiss to your forehead in what he hoped was a sign of reassurance, “I don’t wanna mess anything up!”

“You’ve already been taking care of her for nine months,” you couldn’t help but snort in amusement at his bright smile, “and it’s easy to see how much you love her. She knows that too.”

“Okay,” there wasn’t a way you could love him anymore if you tried. He really was everything to you, “you too, you know. It’s easy to see that you adore our daughter.”

“I do,” he promised, even though it definitely didn’t need to be said, “and I like getting to say our daughter.”

“She definitely takes after you,” you yawned and he raised an amused eyebrow, “those pretty brown eyes and an already full head of hair. And she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“So does her mother,” he took your hand and laced his fingers through yours, “we’ll make sure the next one takes after you.”

“Oh? You assume I’m going to go through this again, Steve Harrington?” his cheeks pinked as he sheepishly shrugged. But you ruffled his hair affectionately, “you already know I would, my love. We’ll have all the little Harringtons running around one day.”

“I am so-” before he could finish whatever he was going to say, you hear Cami’s soft cries coming from her crib. You didn’t bother to hide your sigh; this was a normal reaction after all, it didn’t mean that you loved her any less.

"I'll go," you couldn't even remember whose turn it was to go and check on her but it had just become such a natural reaction. Steve wrapped his fingers gently around your wrist and kept you from getting out of the bed, "Steve-"

"I'll get her," he insisted softly, but with a firmness that suggested he wasn't going to take no for an answer. He kissed you softly before making his way out of the bed and towards the door, "I'm going to take her to the nursery so you can try and get some rest."

"Thank you," you looked at two of them, the absolute picture of perfection, before slumping back against the pillows, "I love you both so, so much."

"We love you too," he replied softly as he held Cami against his chest, "lots and lots."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Hey there Cami girl," he cooed softly as he held her gently, but securely, against his chest. Her cries had quieted slightly but she was sniffling and had big crocodile tears running down her chubby little cheeks, "its alright baby girl, Daddy's got you."

He opened the door to her nursery and turned on the nightlight before gently sitting down in the rocking chair. Steve remembered how much you had loved it while you were pregnant and how'd you sit in there while you watched him work. He wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Shh, shh," he cooed as she laid against his bare chest, her chubby little hand holding onto his pinkie. He liked getting to hold her like this and was a big fan of skin to skin contact, "yeah, you're okay, huh? Daddy's right here."

He smoothed his hand up and down her back in the way he'd come to know that she loved. She hiccuped lightly but the gentle rocking of the chair seemed to lull her and calm her down.

Steve started singing softly to her, lullabies that he remembered from his childhood - some of the earliest and best memories he had of his parents - and one that he’d taken the time to learn during your pregnancy. He thought he sounded terrible, but you always insisted that you loved his voice; he hoped that Cami agreed. 

Once she grew more tired and her breathing evened out, he switched to telling her stories from when he was younger and all the people that she was going to meet soon. 

“Family,” he stroked her pink, chubby little cheek, “one thing you’ll learn in life is that sometimes the best parts are the family that you make. But I hope that you always know that your mama and I love you so much. We’re always going to be here for you.”

She made a small sound almost like she was agreeing with him, which brought a smile to his face. He closed his own tired eyes, willing himself not to fall asleep; there was a part of him that was still worried about accidentally crushing her despite the fact that he knew that was extremely unlikely. 

“You’re already so loved,” he promised her, “you’ve got a huge family all waiting to meet you. I think you’re going to be stuck with them for life. Like Aunt Robin, Uncle Dustin, and Aunt Nancy and Uncle Eddie. You’re never going to be lonely. And, as you get older, you’ll be so thankful for them. Except for maybe when you start dating…Aunt Robin and Uncle Eddie would be the first to help me hide a body, but I’m just putting that out there. But we won’t have to worry about that for a long time.”

Before the two of them managed to fall asleep, Steve told her some stories about his adventures with his friends, the parts that were either suitable for children or severely edited, and about his story with you. Eventually, sleep won over and Steve fell asleep along with the baby snuggled up on his chest. Meanwhile, you were passed out in bed, snoring softly as you caught up on some much needed sleep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You weren't sure how long you had been asleep by the time you woke up but you were still alone in bed. You stretched, enjoying the popping of your stiff joints before making your way down the hall to the nursery. You had a feeling you'd find your loves there.

Sure enough, the two of them were in the rocking chair, both snoozing away. You didn't want to wake them but you also felt bad for leaving them like that knowing Steve would have a stiff and sore neck. 

"Hey, my love," you gently put your hand on his shoulder, attempting not to startle him. His sleepy, pretty brown eyes slowly opened and he graced you with a gentle smile, "come back to bed. It's your turn for some rest."

"You sure?" He mumbled as you nodded. Your husband gingerly stood up, doing his best not to wake the baby as he padded back down the hall after you. 

Pulling back the covers you made a space for him and he almost all but fell into bed. You slid in next to the two of them, snuggled up as best as you could.

Cami seemed to have other ideas as she started to squirm and fuss around again. Steve gently cooed at her, attempting to calm her down, but nothing seemed to work. It only took him a few minutes to realize what was going on, "you're hungry, huh baby girl? Well, your mama's the best but you have to ask her."

"Yeah, I think I can help out here," you whispered, gently reaching for her small body to hold her to yours. It was amazing what just a few hours of sleep could do, but you already felt a little better. 

"You gotta be good to her, okay? Be easy on her," he murmured as fixed your top so she could easily nurse. He rolled onto his side and closely watched the two of you with nothing but awe and reverence in his eyes, "you gonna be okay, angel?"

“Of course,” you settled Cami on your chest so she could latch on properly and start nursing. After a little bit of struggling the first couple of days, it had become so much easier, “the little bit of sleep helped. And I’ve got you right here….there’s nothing better.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he wished he had his camera then and there to capture the sweet moment of his family, “my whole world, right next to me.”

“You’re such a romantic,” you carded a hand through his dark hair, gently scratching at his scalp, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he yawned and felt his eyes getting heavier again, “‘m sorry you have to do all the hard work.”

“What do you mean?” you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your lips, “Stevie?”

“You’re the one that had to be pregnant and your whole body is still going through so much,” yeah…that had been pretty hard, “would do it for you if I could.”

“I know,” and you both knew that he was being serious, “you’re a good man, my love. But don’t worry, it’s all okay. And just so you know, I’d do this all again.”

“Again?”

“Mhmm,” you soothed your hand gently along Cami’s back, “and we’ll do it again eventually, yeah? Have baby number two.”

“Only if you want,” he loved the idea of having more children, but he’d never push you to do anything you didn’t want, “you’re really cute pregnant, but you’re always cute. Beautiful, sexy. All of it.”

“Oh Stevie,” you sighed contentedly, “I love you so much. We’ll figure it all out eventually. But for now, we’ll take it day by day.”

“That sounds perfect to me,” he agreed softly, “my girls, you’re everything to me.”

And he was everything to you too, as was Camila. 

That broken ankle really was one of the best things to ever happen. 

Bruce stares at you as Batman and you have no idea what he’s thinking. But you’re terrified.

Dick smiles at you as Nightwing, but there’s nothing behind his eyes. You’re also terrified.

Jason scowls at you as Red Hood. You know exactly what he’s thinking. You’re terrified.

If this doesn’t sound like Damian Wayne… I don’t know what does

Hi babe! Not sure how you feel about writing ab parents so feel free to ignore, but had an idea for kbd au if Steve’s parents tried to contact him/get into their lives and he’s all like stay away from my kids

kisses before dinner —steve has a tense relationship with his parents. mom!reader, 1.5k

The girls haven't seen their grandparents for… a while. 

Steve's dad always has something to say about his life. How he's thrown everything away being a stay at home dad, or how idiotic it was to stay with you. The latter was enough for Steve to want to cut contact initially, but you convinced him not to do it on your behalf. 

Steve, pretty much everyone we knew thought I was baby trapping you, you'd said. 

Well, he'd said, attempting to lighten the mood, little do they know I baby trapped you. 

Damn. Wanna do it again?

So it was funny. His parents didn't like you but they hardly liked him, he didn't mind —he was so fucking angry because who the fuck did they think they were, how could they look at you and not love you, you, in what world was it possible?— and he put up with their passive aggressive Christmas cards and their sparing visits, but then his mom took it too far. 

He can remember it word for word. “Beth, honey,” his mom had said, her nose stuck in its permanent wrinkle, “why are you eating it like that? What do your friends at school think?” 

“Mom, don't,” Steve had butt in. Beth didn't even go to school at that point. 

“She's such a weird kid,” she said, shaking her head. 

Some could argue it was fond or that she didn't mean anything by it, Bethie is very unique sometimes, but Beth turned her face to her dad with crestfallen eyes, as heartbroken as Steve had ever seen her before, and asked, “I'm weird?” 

Steve doesn't remember the last time he spoke to his mom. A year ago at least. 

He does miss her. But he doesn't really know her, never has, and he'd choose Beth over her without a thought. It would take a hundredth of a millisecond to decide. 

That's why seeing her is a shock. He's going to see her, they live in the same town —you bumped into her a few weeks ago and had to give her the rundown. Everyone's okay. Yeah, we had another baby, she's doing great. 

Steve had blown up at her. The girls had never seen him that angry in their lives and they haven't seen it since, and the gap is impassable. 

Or so he thinks. 

“Steve!” He tenses up. “Steve, honey!” 

He can't decide what to do. He can't exactly run away; Bethie and Dove sit knee to knee in the shopping cart, Avery has her hand in his pocket, and Wren is strapped to his chest. Running would leave at least one girl behind, and where would he go? The frozen food aisle?

“Oh, it's grandma,” Avery says. “She looks… old.” 

“She is old,” he says, turning reluctantly on the spot to watch his mother rush past a stack of cans of carrots. “She's ancient.” 

“Steve, baby.” His mom stops in front of him, more flustered than he knew she could get back, struggling to maintain a sense of casualness. “How are you? Girls? It's been so long.” 

Steve doesn't have an inkling of an idea of what to say. He's not mad anymore, but he knows she'll never change, and he knows that your family is a hundred times happier without worrying what grandma and grandpa think of you. “We're perfect,” he says. 

“And this is baby Wren?” 

Steve grimaces. “Yeah, this is Wren.” 

She's only three months old but she has a good weight to her, and she's brilliantly healthy. She blinks at the woman in front of her without recognition, her dark lashes a thick hedging. She's a beautiful baby. 

“She looks like you again, Steve.” 

“Yeah, my girl's good at having babies, but she hasn't mastered the mixing process,” he jokes without thinking. Love for you falls off the tongue. 

His mother has the sense to make herself laugh. “Where is Y/N?” she asks. 

“Mom went back to get milk!” Avery says. 

“Yeah? And how are you, sweetie?” 

Steve clears his throat. He understands what she's trying to do, but he remembers Beth's crushed face and he can't abide this shit again. I let you let me believe I wasn't good enough, he'd said, he'd shouted, his voice hoarse with it as you pulled him back by the arm, but I will not let you do it to them. It's not happening, mom, I won't let it. 

“Steven…” 

“Mom, we have to get going.” 

“I said I was sorry,” she says. 

“But you weren't.”

“Steve–” She doesn't look a thing like her son beside the similar way they begin to cry, that frown, “Please, I know I'm not perfect, we don't have to pretend I've– I'll hold my tongue. I just want to see my grandkids. I've never even held her.” 

Steve covers the back of Wren's head with his hand, her baby hair soft as down. The girls are being remarkably quiet, beside Dove, who's whispering, “Who is that?” to Bethie in her clumsy toddler drawl. 

“That's gran'ma,” she whispers back. 

Steve's mom is, at the end of the day, their grandma. And she sucks and she doesn't deserve anymore chances, and the girls are better off without her for the majority, but… 

Steve screws his eyes shut. Don't make me regret this, he thinks. 

“I just want to speak to them,” she says. 

“Alright,” he says quietly, covering Wren's ear. “Alright, mom, fine, but this is it. This is your chance. If you ever upset or insult one of my kids again, we're done. We will never, ever speak again. You won't see them, and you won't see me. I'm serious.” 

“I'm sorry,” she says again. 

“Fine.” He pulls the strap off of Wren's harness and shushes her gently as she protests, lifting her out of his arms into his mom's. She doesn't have time to decide if she's ready. This is how it's going to be. “Her head.” 

“I know how to hold a baby,” she says. 

You come around the aisle slowly, a little wince to your step, some residual tightness in your hips as you recover postpartum, but the frown you wear slips into surprise. “Terri?” 

You save Steve and take the reins, suffering a conversation on your pregnancy, birth, and Wren's first weeks of life as Steve takes a breath. His heart races, adrenaline and a sticky, icky feeling in his chest as he watches his mom. He doesn't know if he's doing the right thing. His arms ache to steal Wren back. 

It ends in an invitation for dinner. Whenever you're free, whatever you want, Steve's mom offers. 

He's glad to see the back of her. 

You put the milk carton in the cart and touch his elbow. “You okay?” He hums. Your hand moves up to his face, cupping his cheek. “She makes you so mad, sweetheart. Do you need a moment?” 

“I think I'm pissed because…” He glances down at Wren, who's happier now she's in familiar hands. “I didn't realise she was a shitty mom. I knew we didn't get along, the same with my dad, but I didn't know…” He sighs. 

“It's okay,” you say, giving him a gentle squeeze before Dove demands you pick her up. You do it unthinkingly, and that's why he's mad. 

“I know what a good mother looks like,” he says. “I know how hard it is. And I know she didn't even try.” 

You're all sympathy, looking like you wanna wrap him up in a cuddle in the middle of the grocery store. “You deserved better. It makes me angry too.” 

“Are we going to dinner?” Beth asks. 

“What, with grandma?” Avery asks. 

“Not right now,” Steve says. 

“Good,” Dove says decidedly, wrapping her arms around your neck to hug you, squishing your cheeks together. “Cocoa?” 

“Cocoa? You want hot cocoa?” you ask, pleased. 

It breaks his heart thinking about himself as a kid. He knows there weren't any moments like this, no soft touches or sweet treats that weren't begged for. You don't even think about saying no. 

“And marshmallows,” you croon, rubbing the little space between her shoulders. “And we'll have to get a cinnamon roll too, for your sister. How does that sound, Beth?” 

Beth doesn't like hot cocoa but she loves cinnamon rolls, and she nods her head exuberantly. As quick as that, the girls forget their grandma's interruption, and Steve tries his best to put it out of his mind. Family is messy, and it's harder now he has to make decisions for all of them, but he has you. His support beam, his sweetheart, you put Dove on your hip and sew your arm loosely through his. Tonight he'll talk your ear off about things you know already. You'll listen without complaint, stroking his hair back from his forehead if you have a free hand. His family growing up wasn't worth calling a family half the time, just three people connected by blood and a shared house, but the family he has today takes the cake. There's no competition. 

Sweeter Than Fiction

James Potter x muggle fem!reader

Summary: After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard.

Genre: Fluff <3

pt.2 to Enchanted

Warnings: tbh none

6 months later, James is sprawled out on your couch in your small London apartment. He's dressed in your university sweater, which hugs him snugly but he doesn't seem like he minds. You'd switched into his so he doesn't have much of a choice anyway.

He's pretending to really read the book he had found on your dresser but he keeps his eyes trained on how absorbed you seem in the show you're watching.

James sees the title; "Sabrina The Teenage Witch". He smiles to himself when he sees you try and wiggle your nose like she does and you fall back onto James lap, sighing. 

"D'you think I'd make a good witch?" you ask suddenly and his heart almost collapses. 

He runs a hand in your hair, playing with the strands as he ponders your question, "Mmm, yeah, you would, lovie," he says and chuckles when you sit up and start to ramble. 

"I mean, can you just imagine having magic! I could–I could make all this mess disappear instantly!" you exclaim happily, gesturing to your slightly messy apartment, and then look into his eyes, "wouldn't having magic be fun, Jamie?" 

James frowns. You say it so innocently but he starts to wonder if you could know? It has been months.

He sits up, tilting his head at you. He's been wanting to tell you he's a wizard for a while now, plus James wouldn't admit this out loud yet but he knows he wants to marry you and you deserve to know the truth before he asks you to spend your life with him, don't you? 

"Y/n," he whispers but you interrupt him. 

"And I mean, flying on a broom! How silly! Can't you just imagine it?" 

James smiles, completely endeared, "Yeah, I can," he tucks some hair behind your ear and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out his wallet and you stare at him confused as he holds out a folded old polaroid. He hands it to you.

"What's this?" you ask curiously, crossing your legs.

At first, it looks like a simple picture of a group of boys. There are four of them and they look around sixteen if you had to guess. The tallest has his arms crossed and he's standing in the middle as the boy to his right, a shorter boy with long dark hair, has his arm swung around him. A short, stout boy looks timidly at the camera next to the taller one and next to him, what looks like a young James is happily grinning and holding up a fancy looking broom in triumph. James and the longer-haired boy are dressed in a maroon and yellow sports uniform while the other boys are dressed in simple school uniforms. 

The picture seems relatively normal for a second until it starts to move. James in the picture lifts the  broom and the long-haired boy continues to hug the taller one. You gasp, dropping the picture onto the couch and it flutters to the back where you see written, "Prongs, Wormtail, Moony, and Padfoot, Hogwarts 1976."

"What the hell?" you whisper, voice breaking, and you think you must be imagining things. You look up at James, who is staring at you intently. "James? W-why did that polaroid just move?" you ask and James's stare softens. 

He picks up the polaroid and smiles, he shows it to you again. "That's me and my best friends at school," he says but when he looks at you, his smile falters. You look terrified, "Love, it's okay it's just a picture."

"No, it isn't. It's moving!" you say, leaning away from him a little.

James's chest tightens. "I know," he says seriously, "Promise not to panic, okay? But, I'm a wizard." 

He says it so calmly you're silent for a moment until you start to laugh. You laugh so hard tears brim in your eyes and James is concerned.

He holds your cheeks in his hands. "No, Y/n, I mean it. I'm a wizard," he stands and walks to his jean-jacket hanging in the entrance. He pulls out his wand and points it at you.

You look scared again when he mutters an unfamiliar word and suddenly, you feel a drizzle of snow fall over your shoulders and unless your ceiling disappeared and it's snowing in July, you know it has to be James. 

You let out a shriek and cover your mouth as your eyes widen. James lowers his wand and rushes over, the snow disappearing. "It's okay. I promise I won't hurt you, lovie," he pauses and carefully sits next to you. He's relieved when don't scoot away from him, "I couldn't keep this from you anymore. I love you. You deserve to know who I am."

You're looking at him intensely and you pick up the polaroid again, examining it closer. After a moment you look up and narrow your eyes. You press your index on where James is in the picture. "Why are you holding a broom?" you ask simply and James almost laughs. 

"Gryffindor had just won an important Quidditch match, I think."

"Gryff-what won what?"

"Um, my house- um. Quidditch it's a sport. Where you—um, ride a broom."

You look at him and James can't read your expression.

"You can fly on a broom?" you suddenly ask, sounding less nervous now. You look at the picture and then you crack a smile. "You do look cute all dressed up," you put the polaroid near his ear, almost as if you're making sure the boy in the picture is actually James.

Your boyfriend nods and looks at you wearily, biting his lip. He has so much he wants to say. "So, have you always been a witch—" you ask.

"Wizard," he interrupts but you ignore him.

"—or did some creepy troll turn you into one? Oh my, are you the only witch to exist?" you sound almost excited now.

"Wizard," James says and then takes the picture from your hand and holds yours in his. "And no. I'm not. All my friends and family are. You believe me, yeah?"

You think for a moment. "Yeah," you shrug, looking up at the ceiling and then the wand in James's other hand, "you did make it snow, didn't you?" your smile widens and you point at his wand as you say, "Can you make it snow again! Or show me another spell. Please?"

James hesitates but when he sees a small scab on your hand from where you'd cut yourself earlier, he mutters a spell he knows by heart from all the Quidditch tumbles he's had and the wound suddenly disappears. 

Your eyes widen and you hold up your palm awkwardly. You look where the scab had been, mesmerized as you run your fingers over the now, non-existent, wound. 

"I know this is a lot for you to understand now, lovie. But, I want to explain everything. Anything you want to know," he says seriously and you look back up at him. 

You ask question after question, the reality of the situation becoming even more intense as you hear stories from his school and how unfamiliar he had been about "muggles" until he'd met his ex-girlfriend and then, well, you. 

"So, wait, witches and wizards exist and we– muggles? –just don't know?" you say after his little speech and James nods. He's sitting criss-cross in front of you on your couch and he's running his thumb over your hand, hoping his gesture is reassuring. You look confused, "Aren't you gonna get in trouble with the—"

"Ministry of Magic for telling you?" James finishes, understanding what you're trying to ask him.

You nod. 

James shakes his head and looks into your eyes. "No, because I didn't just tell anyone. You aren't some random person on the street, lovie. You're my girlfriend and I love you. I'm glad you know," he kisses your forehead quickly and you lean up to catch his lips. 

"I'm glad I know too," you smile and caress his cheek. It's your way of showing him you don't see him any differently. You turn to the polaroid picture still in your lap and pick it up. "I can't wait to meet more of your wizard friends now," you smile. 

James smirks, a twinkle in his eyes. "You already have, darling," he says. 

You look closer at the picture and your eyes widen, "No way!" you exclaim looking up at James in disbelief as you start to recognize two of the other boys in the picture. "Remy and Siri too?!"

James chuckles and nods. You turn the polaroid over again and look at the names scribbled in ink. "Then what's up with the weird nicknames? Prongs? Is that you?" you deduce from the order. 

James hums and kisses your temple as he pulls you in closer.

"Why Prongs?" you ask, pointing both your index fingers and putting them on your head, "like little devil horns? Or a fork?" you giggle at the last suggestion and James is entirely enchanted by you. 

He looks at you fondly and chuckles, "Like stag antlers, lovie."

"Why?"

"Because I can turn into a stag, if I wanted to," James explains slowly, realizing he'd forgotten to mention that tiny detail.

"You WhAT?!"