Sam x vinnie x reader request!
Reader walking in on sam giving vinnie his own little blue streak in his hair because he wanted to match with Sam 🤭🤍
PAIRING: sam monroe x f!reader
You were only in the kitchen for like—what, five minutes? Five. Tops. Yet it was enough for the house to go suspiciously quiet, which meant one thing and one thing only: SAM MONROE was doing something illegal in the emotional sense. A sigh left your parted lips. As much as you were used to that (especially ever since vinnie was born) a sense of worry crawled up your spine. So you put the cup you were holding and you padded back towards the hallway that easily led to the rest rooms in your apartment. All of your instincts already went fully motherly-mode activated when you noticed the bathroom light glowing under the door and the giggle that came afterwards. The soft, raspy squeal of your 20-month-old son being just a little too proud of himself.
You pushed the door open slowly.
“Sam, what are you—” there it was. Or rather there he was. Vinnie was sitting on the closed toilet seat lid with a towel wrapped around his tiny shoulders like a cape, grinning from ear to ear as Sam crouched in front of him with a gloved hand and a little dye brush dipped in blue—the exact shade Sam had been putting in his own hair for the last week to refresh the fading color.
Sam shoulders stiffened at the sound of your voice. Slowly, he turned around, guilty as hell, yet the tiniest smirk pulling at his lips. “Before you freak out, it’s temporary. Washes out in like two showers. It’s just for fun.”
You crossed your arms. “He’s not even two.”
“He asked for it!” Sam said, pointing at the innocent baby, who proudly nodded like that somehow helped his case. “He saw mine, touched his head, and went, ‘Me too! Sam hair!’ And what was I supposed to do? Say no to that face?”
Vinnie giggled and slapped his chubby hand over his blue hair, eyes sparkling. “I ma'ch Sam!!”
Sam stood up slowly, peeling the glove off, and throwing it dramatically into the sink. “C’mon. Look at him. He looks sick as hell.”
You tried so hard not to melt. But your heart was already pudding, a slight sense of angry feeling vanishing away under the cuteness overload. Vinnie looked up at you and did this proud little head tilt, like show it off, mama, look!!, and the way he babbled, “I cool now, mama,” was enough to make you sit down on the floor in emotional defeat.
“…Fine,” you whispered, dragging a hand down your face. “But when he wants a sleeve tattoo to match you next week, you’re explaining it to my mother.”
And Vinnie just beamed, patting Sam’s face and going, “we best fwiends Thammy"
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