#husband steve

Steve drove about 10 miles under the speed limit and avoided any major highways at all costs. Backroads were his best friend…until the twists and turns got to be too much.

You sat next to him, gripping his hand as he drove. The windy roads he took made you carsick, even though you sat in the front. The two of you shared your last few moments of peace, soaking in the last time you’d be Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, not mom and dad.

Behind you, two car seats faced the rear window, one on each side. The one behind you was a cute, patterned pink car seat that doubled as a carrier. The one behind Steve was a last minute hand me down from Mrs. Wheeler that dated back to the 70s.

“They’re being so good,” you whispered. You were tired, it was obvious looking at you. Your shoulders slumped and your eyes weren’t quite all the way open, but despite all that there was a new look in your eye. A sort of twinkle that you didn’t have before. It was possible you did in fact have said twinkle, but the brutal pregnancy dimmed it. Either way, you were glowing—radiating with love, and Steve noticed.

“Just like their mama,” he whispered back, his hand detaching from yours and going to pat your thigh.

“What are we gonna do? We only have one crib.”

“We have the bassinet, a carrier…We’ll figure it out when we have to,” Steve gently reassured.

“I think it’s about time we have to,” you replied, glancing in the rear view mirror to catch sight of the umbrella part of the car seats.

****

“Alright, Ava. You’re coming with daddy,” Steve grunted, pulling Ava’s carrier out of the car. He did his best to keep her still as he rounded the car and set her down while he grabbed Robin’s carrier.

You were pretty much out of the game, considering you were barely able to walk. You had suggested trying to just get yourself inside, but Steve adamantly refused, reminding you of the doctor’s strict order to “walk as little as possible.”

So, you sat in the front seat, waiting. The hospital bag was resting in your lap, crinkling every time you shifted to try and get a better look at what Steve was doing with the twins. While you were still in pain, if he needed help you would’ve been right there.

But alas, Steve managed to get both babies out of the car, one carrier in each hand as he trekked up the driveway and into the house. You weren’t sure what his plan was or what he did with the twins, but he came back out for you in a matter of a few minutes.

“Where are they?” You asked, using Steve to support yourself as you stood up.

“They’re safe, honey, don’t worry. All you need to focus on is taking it easy, getting into bed,” he cooed, and you practically drooled at the notion of bed. Your lovely, comfy, glorious bed.

Steve supported your weight the best he could, though the angle was awkward at times. Slowly, he got you into your bedroom and laid you down. It wasn’t a lust-fueled action like it had been in the past, but rather a gentle way to take care of you as he admired your perseverance.

“Steve,” you whined, the pain heightening.

“Oh, baby,” he frowned, laying you down slower.

“I’m okay, I’m— ooh,” you quietly cried, the burn spiking. “I wanna see the babies, please,” you requested, laying down with the blankets pulled up.

“Sure thing, hon. Let me grab them,” he said, kissing your head and slipping out the door.

You watched your husband go, admiring his retreating figure. He was great throughout your pregnancy — he gave back rubs, foot rubs, he went out in the middle of the night to get you whatever you may have been craving — and watching him be so good with the twins melted your heart. Your only complaint was those damn six weeks.

“Say hi to mama,” Steve cooed, both hands full with the carriers. Gently, he set them on his side of the bed to face you.

Try as you might, sitting up was not happening. So, you whispered to the babies as you reached a hand to their little feet. They were so tiny, neither you or Steve could believe it.

“We make some pretty good kids, don’t we?”

You smiled at him tiredly, your fingers grazing the soft sock on Ava’s foot. 

“She has your nose,” you whispered.

“Robin has your lips,” he smiled, leaning down to press a loving kiss to your hairline.

Together, you sat in the calm before the storm, admiring your beautiful babies and each other’s new strengths. 

You fell asleep shortly after with a hand in Robin’s carrier. Steve stayed by your side, his focus switching between you and the babies every so often. He let you sleep as he took in all your strength, all your beauty. He had never seen a sight so perfect – you, peaceful and asleep next to two creations the both of you made together.

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You were exhausted when you got home from work. The meeting with a potential investor for your company’s latest project took longer than expected and it was already past midnight when you got home. 

To your surprise, Steve was still up. A book in his hand while sitting in his armchair, a smile on his face when he saw you then a frown when he got close and truly saw you. His words full of concern didn’t come to you as a surprise, knowing full well that the long sleepless nights to prepare the presentation for your meeting had finally taken its toll, not just on your face but on your body as well.

You declined his offer to eat, telling him that you were more tired than hungry, to which he nodded and took your hand, taking your bag from the other and dropping it on the couch before leading you up to your bedroom. 

“Let me take care of you.” He said as he sat you down on the bed, his lips pressing softly against your forehead before he ran into your ensuite, the sound of running water filling the room. 

That’s how you find yourself sitting in the tub with warm water, feeling the aches of your muscles from your heels and from sitting too long in your office chair subside, the scent of roses kissing your nostrils from the bath that your husband has prepared for you. 

It’s one of the things you love about Steve. How doting he is of you even while the both of you were dating. That he would find the time to see you, even if it was just a few hours or even a few minutes before he was called for a mission, remembering him telling you that he didn’t want to go away for days without telling you goodbye.

Even to the point that on random days you would text him some nonsense, like the time you told him how you were craving Chipotle because you saw one of your co-workers having it for lunch, screams of delight sounded outside your office soon after that when you looked out to see what the commotion was all about, you saw Steve by the entrance of your department floor, women fawning over him, then holding up a paper bag of Chipotle when he saw you from across the room.

And even now that he’s fully retired from being an Avenger and transitioned into becoming the training leader for SHIELD, he’s never changed. Still the ever-supportive husband that you have never once in your life imagined you would ever have. 

You drain the bath and stand from the tub, drying yourself with a towel before grabbing your robe from the hook and putting it on. When you walk out of the bathroom, your eyes spot the blue silk camisole and shorts sitting on the top of the bed. 

“Enjoyed your bath?” Steve asks when he walks into the room, a smile on his face when he sees you. 

You nod in response and he walks closer, his hands resting on your hips before he unties the knot of your robe, the fluffy garment sliding down your arms before he takes the camisole from the bed and urges your arms up. 

“Steve,” You giggle when you do as he bids, the silk fabric sliding down your body and hanging loosely on your shoulders. “I can dress myself.”

“I know, hon. But allow me tonight.” He takes the shorts next and you rest your hands on his muscular shoulders, when he bends down in front of you, lifting your legs up one by one to allow him to slip you into your bottoms. 

He takes hold of your hips when you finish and leans over to press a kiss just above your belly button before lifting you from the ground, a light squeal of surprise leaving your lips before he lays you down on the bed, pulling the duvet over your body. 

A sigh of relief leaves your lips when you sink into the soft mattress, your eyes almost instantly drooping that you barely see your husband take off his shirt, leaving him in his blue boxer briefs and joining you underneath the covers after he clicks off the lamp. 

You scoot closer when he wraps his arms around you, your head resting against his strong chest and closing your eyes as sleep begins to loom over you. 

“Today was very nerve-wracking—” Your words get cut off when you feel his lips on yours, making you look up in curiosity as to why he stopped you. 

“I would really love to hear about how work went, Hon, but that can wait for tomorrow.” He hums and presses another kiss on your lips. “Tonight, you rest. No thinking of work or talking about work. No stress, just rest.”

“Okay.” You mumble with a smile and reach over to kiss his lips in return. “I love you, Steve. Thank you.” 

“I love you too.” You sense his smile. “Now sleep.”

The twins also took after you and Steve, naturally. Certain mannerisms carried from you onto the girls, they way they laughed mimicked yours, the way they pawed and climbed all over Steve reminded you of how playful you used to be. The girls both inherited his hair, of course. And his eyes, and little Ava even got his nose. Robin took after you, though. Her lips, cheeks, and nose were all you, but if Ava and Steve were side by side...there was no comparison.

And not to mention how good of a father Steve was. You really could have just eaten him up when he stepped into the kitchen with a twin on each hip, hair mussed from sleeping (or other things...), and comfy in his pjs. You weren't the only one who went crazy, Steve couldn't keep his eyes, hands, or mouth off you since the moment the doctor cleared you. You didn't feel entirely confident, or really even confident at all with your body after carrying twins, but with time and lots of love, Steve eased your mind and showed you exactly how much he loved you.

It only made sense that you and Steve wanted another one. With the unexpectedness of twins, it took longer than you imagined it would for baby #3. You and Steve talked about having another baby plenty, even before the girls were born. It wasn't until the twins 4th birthday when you decided you were ready.

Well, you hadn't officially decided, but you weren't taking the same precautions as before. That's why you weren't surprised to see two, thick, and ever present pink lines on the pregnancy test you took earlier.

Steve was coaching, the twins were 'napping' even though you heard them giggling and dancing around, so it was just you and baby. You called your mom, whispering into the phone as you kept it close to your ear. She cried and laughed and so did you until Steve walked in the door, sweaty, tanned, and beautiful as he took off his coach hat and brushed the hair out of his face.

"I'll call you later, mom. Steve just got home. I should probably tell him," you joked into the phone, saying your final goodbyes and I love yous.

"Tell me what?" Steve grinned, stepping into your space. You smiled as well, a little sheepishly as your ran your hands over his chest. You always loved the way he looked when he got home from practices or games, especially after he took off his coach's jacket. The white undershirt he worse hugged his strong arms just right and pressed against where his belly began to jut out a few years ago that he claims is because of your delicious cooking.

"Well..."

"Well?" Steve prompted, resting both hands on your waist.

"Well, I'm pregnant," you said in a low voice, hoping the twins wouldn't hear.

"Wha- baby, are you serious?!" Steve beamed, his voice immediately raising with gleeful surprise. You laughed and hid your face against his chest while nodding. When you looked back up at him, his eyes were bright and teary, and his smile was ear to ear.

"I promise, I'm serious."

"This is great news, honey!" Steve replied, his voice slightly lower now that the initial surprise was out of the way. You joined him in celebration, nodding as he kissed you. Once on your lips, then a hundred times everywhere else he could reach.

****************************

Telling the twins was a whole thing. First, you could barely get them to sit still long enough for you to say "mommy's gonna have a baby." Then, when you finally got the words out, Robin broke down into tears while Ava happily clapped. Robin only calmed down after you held her like a baby, rocking her as you whispered that no one could ever replace the love you had for her in your heart. After that was said and done, the girls had questions. Lots of questions.

"How did the baby get in there?"

"Yeah! Did you eat it?"

"Not quite. Baby's are made, not consumed," Steve foolishly corrected.

"How are they made?"

"Well, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much, sometimes it can lead to... a baby!"

******************************

The pregnancy as a whole was good. Easy in comparison to carrying the twins. There were a few hiccups, of course. First, you weren't getting enough nutrients. That was a simple fix, though. Then, you found out that you were having a boy and cried in the doctor's office for 20 minutes while the nurse tried to get ahold of Steve so he could calm you down. You eventually had to ask the nurse to call your mother to drive you home instead, considering Steve wasn't going to answer. The nurse gave you an overly sympathetic look that made you cry even harder because you didn't want her thinking that your husband was a deadbeat. The last major problem was the fact that the baby was breech. You found out he hadn't flipped yet about a week before your due date, so you spent that week doing everything you could to make the baby flip. All sorts of exercise, swimming, ice packs on the top of your belly, headphones on the bottom, all to no avail.

When your water broke, Steve was thankfully there that time. You woke up in the middle of the night to soaking sheets and sharp pains that could only mean one thing.

Your friends were the best, truly. Aunt Robin came over to watch the girls, answering the phone before the first ring was even over. She said she'd had the phone by her bedside for the past week waiting for this. Steve drove you to the hospital, getting you settled in the car before speeding off only to promptly return because he forgot the hospital bag. Within an hour, you were in the delivery room getting ready to push.

Until your doctor tapped your knee and told you that the baby was still breech, and you'd need a C-section.

Naturally, you panicked. You were about to have a major surgery with little no preparation. It was a mindless decision, however. You'd do anything if it meant both you and your son would make it out happy and healthy.

As simply as it all sounds, the whole thing was entirely traumatic. First, rushing you to the operating room was just awful. It was an emergency, to say the least. Baby's heart rate was dropping, and ever second he spent inside of you was a second closer to something terrible happening. All of the operating rooms were either in use or being cleaned, however. So, you wonderful doctor had to perform a C-section right then and there. You were unmedicated thanks to the suddenness of it all, and the absolute worst part was the fact that when the cut your uterus, they ended up cutting baby's little nose. You couldn't even hold him when he was born, the nurses took him away to properly care for his cut.

You cried, your throat raw and dry as you reached aimlessly for your baby, but no one gave him to you. Steve grabbed your hands and tucked them back down, leaning over you and letting you hold him, instead. As upset as he was about the whole thing, he knew it wasn't about him. You cried loudly into his shoulder, cut open and empty.

Once you were stitched up and transferred to the maternity ward, you finally got to meet the little boy who gave you so much trouble. He was swaddled up in a blanket and wearing a blue baby beanie. The nurse handed him to Steve at the door, who quickly admired his son before handing him to you, knowing that you needed to see the baby more.

"He's so beautiful," you whispered, tears already falling. Steve smiled down at the two of you, pulling the chair closer to the bed so he could sit with the two of you.

"Just like his mama," Steve murmured, gently squeezing the arm closest to him.

"Look at his nose," you frowned, 5 stitched lining the bridge of your sweet little boy's nose, right on the tip.

"I know. The doctor's said it'll heal up just fine, remember that, okay?" Steve gently reminded, brushing hair out of your face as he saw tears of sadness fill your eyes.

"What did I do wrong?" You whispered, your low voice breaking with tears.

"Nothing, honey, you did nothing wrong. He's just a stubborn guy. You're used to it with by now," Steve cooed, standing up from the chair to properly wrap him arms around you.

"It's my fault. I should've tried harder," you cry, your body softly wracking with sobs that hurt your stitches and surely disturb your baby.

"You did everything you could, and if you ask me, that's plenty," Steve kissed your head. "And it is absolutely, 110%, not your fault," his voice lowered to a conspirital whisper, "if you ask me, it's these damn doctors."

You gently laughed, then immediately winced before you lightly scolded Steve for already cursing in front of the baby.

"He's not even a day old yet, you should be ashamed."

Steve took the chiding in stride, smiling back at you, just happy to see you not crying, even if it was at his expense.

"Something tells me he won't remember."

You smiled, looking back at your son who was sleeping away in your arms. The guilt you felt looking at his stitched up nose was tremendous, and the pain in your body was incomparable to anything you'd ever felt before, even with the twins.

Everything happened so fast and you had almost no control over any of it. It was scary- terrifying, even. You were sure it wasn't something you ever wanted to experince again.

"I don't know if I can do this again," you whispered, half hoping Steve didn't hear you.

"What?"

"This was terrifying, Steve. I don't know if I can have another one," you tearfully admitted.

"Oh, honey," he sighed, his heart heavy for you. "That's not something you have to worry about right now. You just focus on this little guy and yourself, how does that sound? Take it all one day at a time, okay?"

"I want to give you a big family, Steve," you said, voice thick with pain.

"And I want you to, also. But there's something I want more. You know what that is?"

You shook your head, pouting your lips as you waited for his answer.

"You. A happy and healthy version of you. There's nothing I want more in this world than that version of you. If that means we cap it at three, then we cap it at three. That's not the end of the world to me. No, the end of the world is losing you."

"Oh, Steve.." you said, fully crying at his sweet words.

"I know, baby. Let it out," he murmured, tucking you into his chest where you thought that maybe it wasn't all that bad.\

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“Then at 5, we have to meet everyone at the bar.”

“Mhm,” Steve mindlessly nodded, too busy staring at you.

You were absolutely captivating. The way your hair was curled, how you were applying that bright red lipstick that made it impossible to not stare at your lips, then hand gestures you were making as you explained to Steve your evening plans.

“So I was thinking we leave here at 4:45 or so. Gives us 10 minutes to leave,” you shrugged, rubbing your lips together, popping them, then wiping away the excess. “Steve?”

“What- yeah, baby?”

“Are you listening?” You met his eye through the mirror in your vanity. He gave you a sheepish smile and shook his head. You sighed, much more dramatically than needed.

“I’m sorry, honey! You just look so good,” Steve explained, taking a step closer to you. You knew you were in trouble with the tiny smile on his face, the one the told you Steve didn’t really care about being on time as long as he could have you.

You shook your head at your husband, a grin beginning to form at his antics. Getting up from your spot at the vanity, you finally got a proper look at him. He was wearing a nice, white button down paired with simple khakis. Sure, the outfit was plain, maybe a bit basic, but he look so good. The khakis hugged his ass and thighs, the button down clinging tight to his strong, muscular arms and framing his toned chest. You took a moment to look him up and down then up again before smiling at him.

“Go put on your shoes,” you gently redirected, knowing if you didn’t, you two would probably be taking a few steps back to the bed.

Steve sighed and his shoulders slumped, but the grin he was wearing never left. If anything, it grew. Seemingly, so did the tent in his pants.

“One kiss,” he bargained. He took one more step to you, closing the gap. His hands found your hips, resting over the dress you were wearing.

“Steve,” you huffed out, not actually annoyed. Not even close. You rested a hand on his chest and the other cupped the back of his neck.

He chuckled before dipping his head down, pressing his lips to yours. You let him, but only for a second. Once your lips touched, you backed your head away, smiling up at him. He frowned immediately, trying to go back in for another kiss.

“Steve, I can’t!” You yelped, throwing your head back to save your lips from his.

“Baby, why not? We have time,” he whined, once again trying to go in for more. He looked ridiculous. His lips were stained red and he was wearing the biggest pout you’d ever seen.

“Because,” you licked your thumb and attempted to rub some of the lipstick off, “my makeup will smudge.”

“Don’t care,” he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of your neck, the perfume you wore flooding into his nose. He licked and kissed at your neck until you went from laughing to moaning. “Want you now.”

“Steve…we promised to meet them—“

“It’s called being fashionably late,” he smirked, pulling his head away from your neck.

You looked up at him once more, and your resolve snapped.

“Okay…”

Steve smiled like a kid on Christmas, then…didn’t kiss you..?

No, instead he stared into your eyes as he hiked up the skirt of your dress, so slowly that you hardly even noticed. Once you did, you halfheartedly smack his wrist, smiling at him.

“You are such a bad influence, Steve Harrington.”

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid on eyes on, Mrs. Harrington.”

You sighed, completely resigned to trying and get to the meetup on time.

“Why don’t you call your friends and tell them we’re gonna be late?” You pecked his cheek, giving him a gentle push towards the wall phone.

Steve smiled giddily, skipping off to the phone, no doubt smiling into it as he told whoever he decided to call that you two would be late…and to not wait up.

Taglist: @keerygirlie98 @ann-aatn @watercolorskyy @dopeysunflowers, @ilovest3veh4rr1ngt0n @fullmetalflower @offbrandhandymanny @meowsberry @ladybug-polkadots