love is not always a ♥️

3. fat, fat, fat

a/n: it feels weird reading this...

It had been a month since the first ultrasound and a lot had happened.

Steve had practically forced Robin to move in with him, not wanting her to be alone, in case something happened. His parents were never around anyway.

He had also been treating Robin like a fragile piece of glass. Which annoyed the latter to hell.

He would always panic whenever she lifted up heavy boxes at work or leave his sight for a minute.

"You're like the mother I never wanted." Robin always drawled out sarcastically but her tone held a hint of endearment.

She loved the fact that Steve was there for her. In fact she craved it. 

How every morning when she threw up, it would be him to hold her hair back. When she felt like breaking down for the slightest reason, it would be Steve who would cradle her until she calmed down.

Of course other than Steve's overbearingness, the inevitable happened.

Robin stood in front of the bathroom mirror, in nothing but a sports bra and low rise shorts.

She stared at the pudge rolling off her body and the prominent bloat of her stomach. In her right mind, she would've remembered the little baby growing in her belly. 

But at this moment she was overwhelmed and the single thought running through her head was. Fat. Fat. Fat.

"Steve!" She called out absentmindedly, cupping her boobs, which were practically spilling from the bra.

Immediately, Steve burst into the room, dishcloth slung over his shoulder, floral apron covered his body and eyes blown wide.

"What!? Are you-holy shit! Rob, you've popped!" His eyes fondly raked over her body.

Robins eyes filled with tears, " I look so fat!"

Ah. So this is what it's about.

"Robin you idiot. You're pregnant shithead and somehow you are still glowing brighter than the sun. Abso-fucking-lutely beautiful!"

Robin just shook her head.

Steve smirked, "Plus, I bet all the ladies would be running to you after taking a glimpse of those boobs." a/n: i'm kind of throwing up at all this shit i've written.

Robin blushed.

He strided over to her cowering form and knelt in front of her belly cradling it with his palm.

Steve kissed it gently before mumbling, " Hey little shit. It's uncle Steve. Me and your mummy love you very very much. You are going to have the best damn life ever. If you're a boy I'll teach you how to swing a bat to fight off all the demogorgans and if your a girl I'll teach you how to kick ass so you can prove all the haters wrong. But leave chasing away the boys or girls to me. I'll beat anyone who comes near you to pulp. Love ya little shit. Don't trouble mummy too much."

Suddenly Robin sharply gasped.

In less than a second, Steve was stood up and had her shoulders in his firm grip.

"What's wrong?! Did I hurt you?! Are you okay?!" He started checking over her body frantically.

Robin just chuckled, " I'm Alright Steve. The baby just kicked."

Steve's eyes widened in excitement before her sunk to the floor once again and lay a palm on her stomach.

"Come on little shit. Kick for uncle Steve. "

Kick.

Kick.

Kick.

"Oh my god." Steve muttered in a trance his eyes filling with joy.

"It's fucking weird!" Robin tearfully laughed.

Their moment was interrupted by a knock on the front door.

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

"I'll get it. It's probably the pizza." Robin slipped on one of Steve's shirts over her body and trudged to the door.

KNOCK. KNOCK.

"I'm coming, can't you be-" Robins words fell short as she stared at the burly figure in front of her.

"Well, well, well. Little miss, we meet again." The man gave her a wicked smile.