The compound is transformed.

Not completely, of course—Steve drew the line at filling the pool with bubbles—but the main room has been utterly claimed by your “underwater wonderland” theme. Blue and teal streamers twist from ceiling beams like gentle currents. Silver starfish cling to the walls, glittering faintly in the soft light. Balloons float lazily, some shaped like fish, some like tiny treasure chests. A banner arcs across the room: “Making a Splash Soon!”

Steve is standing off to the side, arms crossed, eyebrows slightly furrowed, a faint sigh escaping him as he watches a string of hanging jellyfish lanterns sway when someone walks past.

“You know,” he mutters under his breath, leaning toward you as you adjust the placement of a particularly wonky octopus piñata, “I’ve been frozen in ice. For… a long time. And now you’re decorating a room like we live under the sea.”

You grin at him, hand resting gently on your seven-month belly. “It’s thematic, Steve. It’s fun. And it’s… calming?”

“Calming,” he echoes, raising one skeptical eyebrow. “I mean… sure. If your idea of calming is pretending we’re in a giant fish tank.”

Sam appears beside him, smirking. “He’ll get used to it. You’d think someone who nearly thawed himself in the Atlantic would appreciate the ambiance.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah, thanks, Sam. Really comforting.”

You chuckle and nudge him with your hip. “C’mon, live a little. You did get deep into the Titanic documentaries, remember?”

Steve groans, rubbing his temple, but there’s a trace of a smile there. He really does love the attention to detail—he’s just trying not to show it.

The guests start arriving, spilling into the room in waves. Natasha is first, carrying a stack of presents with military-precise organization. Bucky follows, quieter, with a grin, placing a gift carefully on the table with a little sticker that says “Handle with Care: Future Super Soldier”. Sam arrives with a cake shaped like a coral reef, Clint with a treasure chest full of baby clothes—some superhero themed, naturally—and Thor bursts in last, declaring, “I have brought the finest water-themed mead—oh, and gifts for the child of Steve, the brave!”

You’re nearly glowing, feeling the warmth of friends and family gathering around you, buzzing with excitement. There’s laughter already, the kind that curls around you and your belly like a tide.

Steve, meanwhile, is attempting to manage a paper plate with mini sandwiches and somehow failing spectacularly. He rolls his eyes when one of the jellyfish lanterns sways too close. “I can’t even eat without fearing a jellyfish attack,” he mutters.

Natasha leans over, smirking. “You know you’re the only one who rolled his eyes at a baby shower.”

Steve gives her a pointed look. “And proud of it.”

Despite his protests, he’s moving around the room with careful attentiveness, making sure you’re seated comfortably in a chair that’s slightly elevated for your belly, bringing you drinks, adjusting blankets. You catch the way he rests a hand on your shoulder occasionally, his thumb brushing gently, protective and proud.

“Okay, everyone,” you call, raising a hand with mock authority. “Let’s get to the games before someone starts drowning in the punch.”

First up: “Pin the Crown on the Mermaid,” which has everyone laughing, including Steve, who reluctantly dons a blindfold and flails spectacularly, earning applause and cheers. Bucky takes a gentle photo, careful not to startle you, while Sam’s commentary is relentless but affectionate. Thor attempts to lift the octopus piñata, nearly toppling the table in the process, and Steve’s jaw tightens until the piñata is safely tied down.

The highlight comes when you open gifts. Tiny onesies with seashell prints, soft blankets dyed in ocean gradients, rattles shaped like seahorses, and books about underwater adventures. Thor reads one aloud dramatically, giving every “bubble” a heroic intonation. Steve rolls his eyes—but when he hands you a particularly soft, starfish-embroidered blanket, his gaze lingers on your belly with something like pride.