(A/N: 6761 words– the longest I've ever written, not her best but it's something.)
Y/n's POV
"Morning, birthday girl," I whispered to my now six-year-old stepdaughter.
"Papa?" she yawned, sitting up on her bed. A smile slowly grew on her face as she realized what was happening. It was finally her birthday.
"Six years old, huh? We need two hands to count how old you are and next it's gonna be a two-digit number, Chi."
"I'm not even eight yet, Papa," she giggled, crawling out of her bed and into my embrace. I pulled her into a tight bear hug, leaving a kiss on the crown of her head.
"Soon enough you will be, baby. So, any special wish today?" I asked her, standing up so I could help her get ready. Kim was downstairs finalizing some last-minute details of the party. It was still a little early, but only the best for our little goblins.
"I don't know yet," she shrugged, as I sat her down on the bathroom counter and got her toothbrush ready.
"Think about it carefully, I promise I'll fulfill it," I gave her time to brush her teeth while I got her bath and birthday outfit ready for her.
"Need help?"
"No, I'm a big girl now," she grinned, so I let her do her thing and went to check on all the other kids. North and Saint were downstairs already, so I just had to get Psalm and Syre now. The twins would come later with Ryan.
"Knock, knock," I called out as I opened the door to find the two still fast asleep in the same bed. They were a year apart, but they were the closest.
"Come on, you two," I shook them awake gently.
"F-five more minutes, Daddy," Psalm whined, turning his back to me. Syre had his eyes open, but I knew he wasn't planning on getting up either.
"Five minutes? By the time y'all wake up, the party will be over and there'll be no more cake."
"Cake?" Syre sprung up at the mention of it. He was a sucker for anything sweet. He had quite the sweet tooth, the complete opposite of Psalm, who was more into Sour Patch Kids and Warheads.
"What kind of cake?"
"A big birthday cake for Chi Chi. I don't know what flavor, you have to be there to find out," I shrugged innocently.
"Up, Dada," he raised his arms for me to pull him out of bed. I smirked victoriously and went to start getting him ready, giving Psalm a few more minutes to sleep.
As I was washing Syre's hair, I heard Kim in their bedroom.
"Psalm, come on, get up."
"No, Mama, no."
"It's already late into the morning, you have to get ready."
"I said no," he whined.
"Psalm? What did I say about talking back to your mother like that? Get up," I called out from the bathroom, rinsing Syre off and wrapping him in a fluffy towel. As I drained out his water, Psalm walked in with Kim behind him.
"You take Syre, and I'll get Psalm ready," I said.
"Okay," she led the excited boy out of the bathroom while I stayed and prepared another bath for Psalm.
"Brush your teeth and take off your pajamas, I'll get your underwear," I instructed.
"Daddy?" he mumbled quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Are you- are you mad at me? I'm sorry," he looked up at me with those big, doughy eyes and pouted lips.
