katebishopsbaefy

[katebishopsbaefy]

No Thinking

billie eilish x reader

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

summary: you break a "rule" and billie deals with you.

warnings: basically pure smut, mean!billie, dumbification, teasing, overstimulation, pussy slaps, crying

words: 1163

a/n: katebishopsbaefy posting three times in one week?? unheard of💩 but i've had an ear infection all week so i've had lots of time to write!! i also have a few asks, so those'll hopefully get done soon. please keep sending them they're so much fun!! also billie's haircut looks so good?? i don't understand why we're all hating???

Billie's been away for the past few weeks, out on her tour with her friends. Of course, you���ve loved seeing her so happy and excited to be on the road for once, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t missed her terribly. You’d been so lonely all alone in the big house, and all of those photos and videos in your hidden folder had just been too tempting; you couldn’t resist.

You and Billie had made a half-assed agreement a while ago about not touching yourselves when the other was away. It wasn’t really meant to be a real rule; it was just something you’d seen on some porn website, and you thought it might be fun to try.

You definitely hadn’t thought it all the way through.

When she came home, just a little over two hours ago, things had gotten heated between you so quickly. Her lips were all over your mouth, your neck, your chest, anywhere she could reach. 

“God, I missed you s’much” she mumbled against your cleavage as she sucked a dark purple bruise into the soft skin. You tugged on her dark hair, and whatever response you’d been about to mutter quickly turned into a gasp when you felt her start to swirl her tongue around your nipple, and then suck sharply. She must’ve really missed you.

She’d settled you on the bed, all fluffed up with blankets and pillows. She might’ve missed you, she might’ve wanted you so bad she could’ve burst, but she’d always make sure you’re comfortable first. You'd kissed for a while until she’d gotten too impatient to wait, so she kissed her way down your body, between your breasts, across your stomach, ending with some soft sucks to your thighs. She gently pushed them open, and mumbled against them, “You been good f’me?”

You understood exactly what she meant. No, you haven’t been good for her. It was just so hard, having no one to touch you for weeks. You had to do it yourself…but all you’ve ever wanted was to be good for her, so you nodded your head, your mumbled words coming out more slurred and sloppy than hers, “Mhm. Been good, promise.”

But when she’d feel the slight resistance of you trying to keep your legs shut, you knew you’d been caught. “C’mon, babygirl… lemme see,” she murmured in that soft, but patronizing tone that always had you stuttering and blushing. And of course, you folded.

Her hands slowly pushed your thighs apart, revealing your soaking wet heat. Her eyes had visibly darkened, her finger traced up and down your slit. It was like she’d forgotten that she was teasing you for a moment, so entranced by you, so unable to keep her hands off of you. An audibly shaky breath would pull her back to reality.

She’d slowly pushed a finger in you as her eyes met yours, and you’d immediately recognized that look on her face. She’d seen right through your lie. She’d be able to feel it.

“Aw, baby…”, she murmured in that tone, the one that made it feel like she was talking down to you (which she was). Her finger gently felt around, enough to make you clench, but she’d still been able to tell what you’d done. “Feels like you’ve been touchin’ yourself… have you? You been stretchin’ out your needy little hole while I was gone?”

 Your head was nodding along before you even realized what was happening. It’s just the way she talks to you, like she’s poking fun. It folds you right in half.

Billie softly clicked her tongue at you, and the tears sprang into your eyes when her finger traveled to your clit. She’d gotten you right where she wanted you; so overwhelmed you can't even think. And it’d only been a few minutes of teasing.

“You know the rules. Couldn’t’ve waited a few days f’me to get back? You’re that needy?” she teased, and you whined, already slipping into that headspace she loves to put you in where all you can do is feel. 

When her finger started to trace circles into your clit, you whined again and gazed up at her with dark, tearful eyes. “I-I’m sor-”, you started, but she cut you off with a sharp slap to your cunt. One physical act of humiliation among a sea of verbal jabs. You whimpered and jolted like usual, immediately closing your mouth.

“Nuh uh, no thinkin’, baby. Too dumb f’that right now. Just needa have your pussy fixed…”, she mumbled so sweetly, so cruelly, and you shivered at the implication. She was going to make you come until you were tight again.

She rubbed your clit until you were shaking and crying, making you finish one, two, three times. Making you finish until she was satisfied.

And now, after what’s felt like hours of abuse on your clit, she’s finally decided to move on.

She pulls her finger away, and gently taps your nub with it, just to watch your legs twitch. To make sure you're sensitive enough. Her finger finds its way back down to your hole, gently pushing into you in a way that makes you tense and whimper. And she grins that stupid, cheesy, lopsided grin that makes your stomach flip. She looks so sweet, but so mean.

Her fingers wrap around yours, leading your hand down your body until she’s separating your middle and ring finger from the rest. Before you even know what's happening, she’s guiding your two fingers into your pussy, and a matching pair of her fingers are holding the back of yours to force them against that spot that makes you see stars. Of course, you whine and squirm, much too overwhelmed and overstimulated to have four fingers pressed into you. You’re too tight to be so full. But, of course, she holds you down.

“Mmm… now you’re all nice ‘nd tight again. Feel it, babygirl?”, she teases, her voice dripping with soft cruelty as she fucks your fingers into you. When you don’t respond, she takes her thumb and grinds it against your swollen clit, hard enough to make you jolt and scream. Eyes fly open and fill with a fresh set of tears as you nod at her. Your chest rises and falls heavily with each breath, your hair is all messy from so much squirming, your red eyes brim with tears, and the sight just makes her groan. 

“Think we gotta stretch you out again, mama,” she murmurs, her lips finding their way to your cheek to kiss away your tears. It’s so sickly sweet compared to the way she’s started to pound into you. You hadn’t even realized, but she’d pulled your fingers out and replaced them with all four of her own, intent on making you scream and cry until you passed out. And after just a few more rounds, she succeeds.

Maybe you should’ve thought twice about making that dumb rule with her.

[katebishopsbaefy]

could you do something similar to beyond stress but instead of it having smut, its more of reader getting so overwhelmed and crying but billie comforting her please?

Beyond Stressed pt. 2

billie eilish x reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˙⟡. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .⋆˙⟡ ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

summary: you think your stress has run it's course after a breakdown. turns out it hasn't, but thankfully, billie's always there for you.

warnings: panic attack, just fluff

words: 1147

a/n: thank you for the ask!! i hope you like it!! 😊 i meant to make it a little shorter but oh well lol

Typing, scribbling, square breathing. That’s about all you’ve been doing for the past week. After what you hoped would be a one-off breakdown, more and more work has just piled on. You’ve managed to keep it together since then, but it’s been so difficult.

This time, you’re at your place. Unlike last time, Billie’s back is propped up against the edge of your bed as she reads some book from your nightstand. Her knee is comfortably propped up against your side, just a gentle reminder that she’s there if you need her. That there’s no need to freak out again. That it’s all gonna be okay. It keeps your panic at bay for now, but it doesn’t stop the immense exhaustion from plaguing you. Thankfully, school work has slowed down for now, but real work has only amped up. Your team wants more merch, more tour dates, more songs on your album. It’s like they’ve forgotten you’re just one person.

As you’re furiously scribbling in your notebook, you don’t even notice your phone beginning to blow up. Just one buzz turns into five, then ten, until it won’t stop. Billie gently nudges your side to alert you to it.

You glance up for what must be the first time in the hour. When you rub your eye as you grab your phone, Billie’s heart sinks. You only rub your eye that much when you’re on the verge of… something. A breakdown, passing out, something that would force you to take a break.

You open your phone to text after text from your friends; that test you’d been studying for last week is out. While something like that might usually make you nauseous, it doesn’t this time. You’d felt confident walking out of the exam, so all that stress and studying last week paid off. Or so you think.

You quickly open your phone to the app where your grades are posted. Scroll until you find the class, pop it open, and scroll until you find the test grade…

An F.

58/100.

You freeze for a moment. That can’t be right. You studied so hard. You reload the app, reopen the grade. Still an F.

Your hands start shaking a little as you open up your email to find the breakdown of your test. Count the number of questions you missed. 42. Recount. Still 42. 

There must be a grading mistake. You scroll through each individual question, looking at each answer you put. You remember putting down these answers. No misclicks. No grading mistakes. You really, truly failed. You’ve never failed a test before.

Your body decides to process that information before your brain does. You know it’s not a big deal in the long run. You still have a good average in the class. You’re still passing. But your chest is squeezing so tightly that you think you might be having a heart attack.

Before you know what’s happening, Billie’s sitting up and placing a hand on your back. You don't even notice. It feels like your body is disappearing. The only part of yourself you can actually feel is your pounding heart. 

Billie’s already worried, but when you don’t move even a little when she touches your back, her heart drops, and one glance at your phone screen tells her she’s right. You’re panicking, and from the looks of it, you’re already too deep to stop it before it starts. She’s always been worried about pushing when you’re like this, about trying to touch you when you don’t want it. But she’s known you long enough to know how you get, and that's what you need right now. You’ve told her before that it can feel like you’re disintegrating, like you’re floating away, so you need to feel small and secure.

So, she shuts your phone off and gently pulls you into her lap, cradling your head against her chest. Your breathing is so shallow that she can barely feel it, and she knows you’re too far gone to process anything she might say. Instead of trying to talk to you, she does exactly what you’ve told her helps.

She holds you as tightly to her as she can without hurting you, one arm snugly around your back as the other holds the back of your head. She places your ear right over her chest so that all you can hear is her heart; just something steady and soft to give you something to focus on. Just like before, she exaggerates her breath, urging you to follow. Her gentle, purposeful actions don’t at all show how worried she is. You’ve been known to pass out when you get too stressed.

With her body surrounding you like a soft weighted blanket, it only takes a short time for your panic attack to run its course. She just knows exactly what to do. She always does.

As your breathing evens out, she places the softest little kisses to your hairline, and her hand makes its way under your shirt like it always does. Her fingernails scratch so comfortingly against your bare back that you can’t help but sink into her.

Billie lets you rest for a few moments, allowing your head to clear enough for you to be able to communicate. She gently pulls your face up so she can look at it, and her thumbs cup your cheeks to wipe away tears you hadn’t even realized had fallen. She looks so soft, but so worried, and it makes your stomach flip.

She hums quietly at your sad, tired face, at the little resting pout on your lips, and presses the tiniest kiss to the tip of your nose. When she begins to lift you into her arms, you don't protest; you’re too tired to. You just rest your heavy head on her shoulder and press your face into her neck.

The sheets ruffle as she sets you down on the bed and settles next to you, her arm slinging around your waist to help you cuddle into her side. She kisses your head again, and again, and again, and lets her lips linger against your hair as she whispers, “Nap time, baby. You’re too tired.”

It’s like you’ve completely forgotten about the work you’d been doing as you melt into her. She’s just so gentle with you. You hum quietly to acknowledge her words, mumbling back a half-coherent, “Mmm… nap time…”

Just as you start drifting off, her lips find your forehead one more time, and she mumbles softly, “I think it might be break time too, y/n/n. You need a few days off.”

If you weren’t already half asleep, you might groan or protest. But for right now, all you can do is agree. It’ll be nice to spend a few days with her, just snuggling and not worrying about anything but her.

[katebishopsbaefy]

Beyond Stressed

billie eilish x reader

⋆｡˚ ☽ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

summary: you're so overworked that you can't even see straight, and billie knows just the way to help.

warnings: smut!!! strap-on use (r!receiving), mostly fluff

word count: 1431

Your fingers furiously typing away at your computer, and your free hand frantically scribbles in a notebook. It’s not even legible. And it’s a little concerning that you’re typing and writing simultaneously, like a madman. Or, at least, that’s what Billie thinks.

What was supposed to be a relaxing Friday night together turned into… this. Billie, sitting on her bed, mindlessly playing Animal Crossing up on the TV. And you, sitting on her floor, with stacks of folders and crumpled-up papers scattered. It’s like every person you know decided to make a coordinated attack and hit you with as much work as they possibly could on your one day off. You’ve got essays to write, merch to design, test material to understand, an album to put together, and a girlfriend to hang out with. It’s so overwhelming that you could cry.

And you don’t even realize you’ve actually begun to until Billie glances down, seeing the heavy tears start to slip down your cheeks. She knows you’ve got a lot to do, but she hadn’t known it was this bad. She takes a moment to watch you, just to see if these are just a few tears or a full-on breakdown. At your first hiccup, she wordlessly pauses the game and slides off the bed, sitting criss-cross on the floor next to you. She doesn’t say anything; she just watches.

You’re so caught up in your work that you don't even notice her until her warm hand starts softly trailing up your back. It makes you jump, but that’s all the reaction you give. As much as you want to just curl up in her lap and sleep forever, you don’t have the time. Billie, however, is not satisfied with that, and mumbles, “Hey”.

You just silently shake your head, continuing to scribble in your notebook (which is so illegible that Billie’s not sure if you’re trying to write notes or just color in the page). It makes your heart hurt to be ignoring her like this, but once you’re done, you can give her all of your attention. That’s what you keep telling yourself. Work, then girlfriend. 

But, again, Billie isn’t satisfied. She gently pokes your side; not hard enough to hurt in the slightest, but just enough to get your attention. She repeats a little more firmly this time, “Hey. Y/n.”

When you finally take a moment to glance up at her, her heart breaks. She can literally see how unfocused your eyes are, which explains the atrocious handwriting. They’re so red and tearful, and your lips are in a little resting pout that she’s sure you don’t even know is there. In fact, she’s sure you don’t even have the slightest idea as to how upset and pathetic you look, as if you could collapse any second. She lifts a gentle hand to wipe away the thick tears that run down your cheeks, and her voice is as soft and soothing as it’s ever been as she mumbles, “...I think you need a break, y/n/n.”

You give a half-assed head shake, but from the way you lean so heavily into her palm, she can tell you’re not fully objecting. You’re so overwhelmed you can’t even see straight. You’re also not fully agreeing either, though. You still have hours of work to do, and you want to get it done as quickly as possible so you can hang out with her. 

But, when she gently pulls you up to your feet, you’re too out of it to object.

Billie helps you lay down on the bed, your head resting on her soft pillows, her body resting over yours in a sort of safety blanket, which she knows helps to calm you down. She starts placing the smallest, gentlest little kisses to your cheeks, and one of her hands trails up your side as she mutters, “Jus’ relax, baby… you’re so tired, you need a break.”

Before you know it, she’s toying with the hem of your underwear and sliding them down our legs. You’re so out of it that you can’t do much else but gently hold her waist, to have something to hold onto, and to tell her that you’re okay with this. But everything is just so overwhelming that you can’t stop the constant flow of tears, and when she starts to kiss your forehead so gently, like you’re made of glass, you start crying all over again. She’s just too sweet.

Billie’s stomach drops when you start crying again, immediately worrying that she’s pushing too far (as if you haven’t been dating for years, or this isn’t an insanely common thing for her to do to help calm you down). She realizes after a moment that her gentleness is just really getting to you, and she wants to give you as much of that as possible. But she hates seeing you cry so much.

“Shhhhh… hey… look at me…” she mumbles, one of her hands gently cupping your jaw as she hovers over you.

Your tearful eyes travel back to meet her soft ones without another thought. When she starts to wipe your tears away with her thumb, you lean so heavily into the touch that your cheek squishes a little against your hand, which would normally embarrass the shit out of you, but right now, you just need as much of her as you can get. 

“Jus’ breathe… deep breaths, babygirl…” Billie whispers so softly, like she’s trying to melt you with her voice. And she’s always been good at that. You can feel her chest against yours, and feel the way it rises and falls with deep, exaggerated breaths, which you know she wants you to follow. Your breathing starts to slowly even out as you copy her, and before you know it, she’s slowly sliding in and out of you in time with your breaths. You’d been so worked up and out of it that you hadn’t even noticed her putting on the strap, whenever she did. She just keeps whispering to you while she starts kissing your face again, “There we go… doin’ so good f’me…”

She starts slowly, just letting you get used to the feeling. You’re already overwhelmed enough. She doesn’t want to push you even further. But when your deep breaths start becoming punctuated by breathy moans and hums, she picks up the pace. Her free hand, the one that she’s not using to hold herself up, gently makes its way under your shirt, just to feel your skin. It’s a little habit of hers you've always found adorable, and incredibly soothing. It’s nothing more than comforting and gentle. She traces little shapes into your waist, what feels like hearts and stars, and then messy words that you can’t quite make out. Probably because you're too focused on her scrambling up your insides. 

Every little thrust just relaxes you more and more, until her thumb moves down to find your clit, and you snap. She’s so gentle with you; movements that would probably be too gentle to make you come on a normal day are so perfect for right now. You’re just so worked up and stressed that anything she gives you is perfect. 

She slowly works you through it until you're twitching with aftershocks, and she’s so gentle when she pulls out that you don’t even realize she has until she’s wrapping you up in her arms and kissing your hair. Your face nuzzles into your chest instinctively, and you just rest for a moment, catching your breath. Her hand is still under your shirt, tracing little words again, and you’re trying to decipher them, but you still can’t tell what they are. She breaks you out of your focus with a soft whisper: “Feel better?”

Your head nods against her chest silently. You do feel better. She always knows exactly what to do, what spots to hit, what words to say to make you feel like you're floating, to make all of the stress in you dissolve. She just melts you.

It’s silent again for a moment before your curiosity gets the better of you, and you speak for the first time in a while, your voice coming out in a quiet whisper, still a little raspy from crying (and moaning), “What’re you writin’?”

Her lips tug into up that little grin that makes your stomach flip, and moves her fingers in a much more exaggerated way, taking her time with every letter so you can really tell what it is.

“I LOVE YOU.”

[katebishopsbaefy]

oh my god get out of here you’re so sweet😭😭😭

Shoot Me

billie eilish x reader

𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚

summary: you and billie both get your periods at the same time and are the definition of miserable

word count: 1219

You roll over with a groan, pressing your face back into your girlfriend’s side, clutching your stomach. You feel her arms wrap around you. She obviously wanted to feel you as much as you wanted to feel her.

You and Billie had been unfortunate enough to get your periods at the same time, so now here you lay, sprawled on your bed, clutching your stomachs, groaning occasionally. Somehow you’d managed to not only lose track of your heating pads, but you’d also completely run out of pain relief medication, and neither of you felt well enough to drive to the store to get some.

Billie gently kisses your forehead when you press into her. She grunts as she reaches one arm over to the nightstand to check her phone, muttering out a low “shit” upon seeing the many texts and missed calls from her brother, who she was supposed to meet up with today.

You rub your eye and look up at her. “What’s wrong?” you mumble.

She swings her arm back over to hug you tighter, deciding to deal with Finneas later. “Nothing,” she whispers, starting to rub your back. You hum at the touch. “How’re you feeling?”

You grumble out something about feeling like shit, but it comes out muffled due to your face pressing further into her. Your hand finds its way underneath her loose t-shirt in search of more comfort.

This time, she hums at your touch. The weight of you laying on top of her serves as a weighted blanket, and although it’s comfortable, it doesn’t do much for her cramps. “This sucks,” she states. You hum in agreement.

Your short conversation is interrupted by multiple aggressive dings from her phone. She groans again and reaches back over, checking the new texts from her brother.

“Who’s that?” you ask.

She lets out a huff. “Finneas,” she mumbles, “I forgot I was s’pposed to meet up with him today.”

You whine and grip her tighter in response. “Mmm, don’t leave me.”

“I don’t think I could go anywhere even if I wanted to,” she says, giggling quietly at you.

She hadn’t realized that she forgot to respond to him yet again, getting distracted by you, until the sudden alarm of her ringtone and buzzing of her phone forces her to finally respond. You both jump at the sound before she answers. You can hear a faint “hello???” from the other end.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ignore you,” Billie says, exhaustion lacing her voice. “I’ve been asleep all day, me and y/n have the worst cramps ever.” She shifts a little and waits for Finneas to respond. “Actually yeah, that would be super helpful if you have time.” Another pause. “Can I send you a list?” Short pause. “Okay, great, see you later.”

The loss of her warmth makes you groan as she flips you off of her to sit up. “What’d he say?” you ask.

“He said he has some time, so he’s gonna pick some stuff up for us,” she responds. Taking your shared blanket with her, she gets out of bed. You groan for probably the 500th time, but she ignores you and grabs your arm, effectively dragging you out of bed too. “Come on, we’re gonna go sit on the couch.”

“Just shoot me instead,” you mumble. You clutch your pillow to your stomach and trudge your way down the hall with her to the living room. 

She laughs at your remark. “At least we get more time to hang out,” she says, gently bumping her hip with yours. You smile at her and bump her back.

It feels like an hour has passed by the time you make it to the couch. You flop down, immediately leaning into Billie’s side, and you feel her do the same. She sits up for a moment to wrap you in the blanket again before snuggling back into you. “Wanna watch something?” she asks, to which you shrug, and she flicks on a random channel.

You completely lose track of time sitting with her. You have no idea what show’s playing, being too distracted by her hands, which you had taken into your lap. Fingers laced together, palms pressed, her warm hands warming up your cold ones. You’re so spaced out playing with her fingers that you don’t realize you’re starting to fall asleep until she giggles at you.

“Sleepy?” she asks. You look up at her, noticing her eyes starting to droop as well.

“No,” you whisper, reaching a hand up point at her jokingly, “are you?” She shakes her head.

At some point, you had both begun to shift around, so uncomfortable from your cramps. When Finneas arrives at your place, he finds you passed out, sprawled on one side of the couch, gripping your pillow. Billie hogs the blanket on the other side, and your heads meet in the corner. He smiles and snaps a quick picture to send to you later. 

He quietly makes his way over to your kitchen, careful not to make too much noise with his bags. Ice cream, chocolate, and other comfort foods are unloaded into the fridge. Despite how quiet he tries to be, the soft rustling is enough to wake Billie, who quickly sits up and pads over to him, dragging her blanket behind her. “Hey, you don’t have to do that,” she says quietly.

He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Go sit back down.”

“But I feel bad,” she mutters. She plops down onto a seat at the kitchen island, resting her head on her arms.

Finneas slides her a container of pain medication over the table, which she gratefully accepts, downing a couple of pills. “If you wanna do something…” he says, rifling through the bags, “go pop these in the microwave for a minute.” He pulls out two stuffed animals, unzipping them from the back to take out the pad to be heated up. Billie audibly sighs at the sight.

“Oh my God, you’re literally a life saver,” she breathes. After heating them up, she makes her way back over to the couch, where you’re still sound asleep.

“Y/n,” she whispers, gently rubbing your shoulder to wake you up. Your eyes flutter open and you smile at her. “Hi, my love. I’ll trade you,” she says, referring to the pillow you’re still clutching. You gratefully switch with her, pulling the stuffed toy to your stomach and letting out a breath at the relief it provided. “Better?” she asks, kissing your forehead softly as your eyes close again.

You hum. “Thank you,” you say to her, and, louder this time, “thanks, Finneas.”

He and Billie talk for a little longer, deciding to make up the work they were supposed to do another day, and she thanks him excessively, to which he shrugs every time. Then he leaves, leaving the two of you alone again.

As she sits back down, she pulls your head into her lap. Her hand in your hair, yours on her back underneath her shirt. A few short minutes later, your fingers stop tracing patterns into her skin, and she knows you’d fallen back to sleep. She scoots around, getting more comfortable before falling asleep too.

No matter how shitty you felt, she always made you feel better.

[katebishopsbaefy]

Shoot Me

billie eilish x reader

𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚

summary: you and billie both get your periods at the same time and are the definition of miserable

warnings: period cramps, fluff

word count: 1219

You roll over with a groan, pressing your face back into your girlfriend’s side, clutching your stomach. You feel her arms wrap around you. She obviously wanted to feel you as much as you wanted to feel her.

You and Billie had been unfortunate enough to get your periods at the same time, so now here you lay, sprawled on your bed, clutching your stomachs, groaning occasionally. Somehow you’d managed to not only lose track of your heating pads, but you’d also completely run out of pain relief medication, and neither of you felt well enough to drive to the store to get some.

Billie gently kisses your forehead when you press into her. She grunts as she reaches one arm over to the nightstand to check her phone, muttering out a low “shit” upon seeing the many texts and missed calls from her brother, who she was supposed to meet up with today.

You rub your eye and look up at her. “What’s wrong?” you mumble.

She swings her arm back over to hug you tighter, deciding to deal with Finneas later. “Nothing,” she whispers, starting to rub your back. You hum at the touch. “How’re you feeling?”

You grumble out something about feeling like shit, but it comes out muffled due to your face pressing further into her. Your hand finds its way underneath her loose t-shirt in search of more comfort.

This time, she hums at your touch. The weight of you laying on top of her serves as a weighted blanket, and although it’s comfortable, it doesn’t do much for her cramps. “This sucks,” she states. You hum in agreement.

Your short conversation is interrupted by multiple aggressive dings from her phone. She groans again and reaches back over, checking the new texts from her brother.

“Who’s that?” you ask.

She lets out a huff. “Finneas,” she mumbles, “I forgot I was s’pposed to meet up with him today.”

You whine and grip her tighter in response. “Mmm, don’t leave me.”

“I don’t think I could go anywhere even if I wanted to,” she says, giggling quietly at you.

She hadn’t realized that she forgot to respond to him yet again, getting distracted by you, until the sudden alarm of her ringtone and buzzing of her phone forces her to finally respond. You both jump at the sound before she answers. You can hear a faint “hello???” from the other end.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to ignore you,” Billie says, exhaustion lacing her voice. “I’ve been asleep all day, me and y/n have the worst cramps ever.” She shifts a little and waits for Finneas to respond. “Actually yeah, that would be super helpful if you have time.” Another pause. “Can I send you a list?” Short pause. “Okay, great, see you later.”

The loss of her warmth makes you groan as she flips you off of her to sit up. “What’d he say?” you ask.

“He said he has some time, so he’s gonna pick some stuff up for us,” she responds. Taking your shared blanket with her, she gets out of bed. You groan for probably the 500th time, but she ignores you and grabs your arm, effectively dragging you out of bed too. “Come on, we’re gonna go sit on the couch.”

“Just shoot me instead,” you mumble. You clutch your pillow to your stomach and trudge your way down the hall with her to the living room. 

She laughs at your remark. “At least we get more time to hang out,” she says, gently bumping her hip with yours. You smile at her and bump her back.

It feels like an hour has passed by the time you make it to the couch. You flop down, immediately leaning into Billie’s side, and you feel her do the same. She sits up for a moment to wrap you in the blanket again before snuggling back into you. “Wanna watch something?” she asks, to which you shrug, and she flicks on a random channel.

You completely lose track of time sitting with her. You have no idea what show’s playing, being too distracted by her hands, which you had taken into your lap. Fingers laced together, palms pressed, her warm hands warming up your cold ones. You’re so spaced out playing with her fingers that you don’t realize you’re starting to fall asleep until she giggles at you.

“Sleepy?” she asks. You look up at her, noticing her eyes starting to droop as well.

“No,” you whisper, reaching a hand up point at her jokingly, “are you?” She shakes her head.

At some point, you had both begun to shift around, so uncomfortable from your cramps. When Finneas arrives at your place, he finds you passed out, sprawled on one side of the couch, gripping your pillow. Billie hogs the blanket on the other side, and your heads meet in the corner. He smiles and snaps a quick picture to send to you later. 

He quietly makes his way over to your kitchen, careful not to make too much noise with his bags. Ice cream, chocolate, and other comfort foods are unloaded into the fridge. Despite how quiet he tries to be, the soft rustling is enough to wake Billie, who quickly sits up and pads over to him, dragging her blanket behind her. “Hey, you don’t have to do that,” she says quietly.

He shakes his head. “It’s fine. Go sit back down.”

“But I feel bad,” she mutters. She plops down onto a seat at the kitchen island, resting her head on her arms.

Finneas slides her a container of pain medication over the table, which she gratefully accepts, downing a couple of pills. “If you wanna do something…” he says, rifling through the bags, “go pop these in the microwave for a minute.” He pulls out two stuffed animals, unzipping them from the back to take out the pad to be heated up. Billie audibly sighs at the sight.

“Oh my God, you’re literally a life saver,” she breathes. After heating them up, she makes her way back over to the couch, where you’re still sound asleep.

“Y/n,” she whispers, gently rubbing your shoulder to wake you up. Your eyes flutter open and you smile at her. “Hi, my love. I’ll trade you,” she says, referring to the pillow you’re still clutching. You gratefully switch with her, pulling the stuffed toy to your stomach and letting out a breath at the relief it provided. “Better?” she asks, kissing your forehead softly as your eyes close again.

You hum. “Thank you,” you say to her, and, louder this time, “thanks, Finneas.”

He and Billie talk for a little longer, deciding to make up the work they were supposed to do another day, and she thanks him excessively, to which he shrugs every time. Then he leaves, leaving the two of you alone again.

As she sits back down, she pulls your head into her lap. Her hand in your hair, yours on her back underneath her shirt. A few short minutes later, your fingers stop tracing patterns into her skin, and she knows you’d fallen back to sleep. She scoots around, getting more comfortable before falling asleep too.

No matter how shitty you felt, she always made you feel better.

[katebishopsbaefy]

˚₊‧ ୨୧ navigation ୨୧ ‧₊˚

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

⋆.˚✮ BJ | 19 | she/they ✮˚.⋆

requests: open

masterlist

who i've written/am open to writing for:

kate bishop

natasha romanoff

wanda maximoff

yelena belova

billie eilish

gracie abrams

taylor swift

olivia rodrigo

sabrina carpenter

𐙚⋆°.⋆ about me ⋆.°⋆𐙚

hello!! welcome to my blog!! my name's BJ, or Jay, whatever you want to call me is fine!

i'm a girl who writes for girls only, so please don't send requests with men and men dni

my biggest obsession right now is billie eilish, so i'm mostly writing for her (please send requests!!). im open to writing for anyone else on my list, obviously, but i'm also open to other people or characters that i don't necessarily have on the list. just lmk!!! i also write fluff, smut, angst, whatever. im willing to get pretty nasty too so dont be afraid to send super freaky stuff!!

fandoms im a part of include marvel, percy jackson, the maze runner, stranger things, and pokemon!! please feel free ask me about any of them!! especially pokemon oh my god i could talk so much about it

im super into film; my favorite movies are la la land, jaws, aftersun, the half of it, and tangled

my tiktok is the same as my tumblr user, but i don't really use it that much

i've had my blog for a while but haven't really used it too much, but i'm trying to get into it more :)))

[katebishopsbaefy]

˙✧˖° - masterlist - ⋆｡˚꩜

⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

💜 - fluff

❤️ - smut

💙 - angst

✧˖°. kate bishop .°˖✧

exhausted - in which you come home after a long day of being a superhero and kate helps clean you up 💜

whatever you say - in which you have a nightmare and kate helps you feel better 💜

✧˖°. natasha romanoff .°˖✧

soup and sniffles - in which you're sick and dont want natasha to find out 💜

✧˖°. billie eilish .°˖✧

shoot me - in which you and billie both get your periods at the same time 💜

beyond stressed - in which billie helps you through your stress 💜❤️

beyond stressed pt. 2 - in which a build up of stress turns into a full on panic attack💜

no thinking - in which you get put in your place after breaking a rule ❤️

[katebishopsbaefy]

Exhausted

kate bishop x reader

⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

summary: you come home after a long day of being a superhero and kate helps clean you up :))))

warnings: swearing, blood, sorta nudity but not sexual at all (just for bandaging purposes), kate and reader are down bad

word count: 1496

You trudge your way down the hall of the apartment complex, rubbing your arms to keep the cold away. All you want is the warmth of your girlfriend after a long day of fighting crime. On a normal day, you would’ve called before showing up, or at least gone through the window instead of the front door. Today, though, you were too tired to care.

You knock tentatively on the door of Kate’s place; one knock, three knocks, two knocks to let her know it’s you. It takes about ten seconds for her to fling the door open and another three to get worried.

Studying your face, she says, “Oh, shit. Hard day?” She takes the mask in your hands and throws it somewhere on the couch as she guides you inside. All you can muster is a small nod, pure exhaustion taking over as you press your face into her shoulder. Her arms wrap around you and her hands gently play with your hair. That is, until she feels the blood seeping through your shirt.

She pulls away immediately to inspect the gash on your shoulder. “Holy fuck, babe. You have to stop getting hurt so badly.” She says it with some amusement, but the expression on her face reveals her fear.

You reach your hand up to rub at your eye. “‘It's fine,” you mumble. You figure the faster you can get her to stop worrying, the more hugs you can get, and the faster you can get the sleep you so desperately need. You put all your energy into smiling at her. She doesn’t buy it.

“Um, no. C’mon, we’ll go get you cleaned up,” she argues. You groan quietly, but she just tugs your hand towards the stairs. You quickly shuffle up to her and lean most of your body weight into her side, to which she happily wraps an arm around your waist and helps you up the stairs. You feel a little bad for making Kate practically carry you, but you’re too tired to walk on your own.

Kate places you gently on her bed and runs to grab some first aid supplies and a towel for your shoulder. You wait to lean back on her pillow until she comes back and places it under your wound so blood won’t get everywhere. Watching her sort through the bandages, you prop your head up on the headboard and smile to yourself; she looks pretty when she’s concentrating.

“Okay, here, let me do your face first,” she mutters, gently straddling your legs. You lean back to look up at her and feel your face get red at your proximity. This time, she grins at you. As gently as she can, Kate holds your cheek with one hand and begins to work the dirt and blood out of the small cuts littering your face, occasionally turning away to get a new band-aid or clean Q-tip. You stare into her watery blue eyes that scan you, her eyebrows that scrunch a little with focus, her cheeks that are painted a soft pink for the same reason as yours, her lips that are upturned in the smallest smile.

The way her fingers softly dance across your face makes you even sleepier than you were before, and your eyes start to fall closed every couple of seconds. The exhaustion hits you like a bus, worse than before and you can’t keep yourself awake despite how much you try.

Kate’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone. “You can sleep,” she murmurs, “I’m sort of almost done. Couple more minutes. I’ll try to be gentle so I don’t wake you up.” You don’t think she could be any more gentle than she already is, though. Your eyes drift fully shut as you feel her softly kiss your forehead, quickly falling asleep.

…

You wake up what can’t be more than thirty minutes later to Kate messing with your shirt sleeve. You lazily turn your head towards her hands, blinking confusedly. She quickly stops.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I need to fix the cut on your arm, but I didn’t want to take your shirt off while you were asleep, so I thought maybe I could just move your sleeve up, but it wasn’t really working and I didn’t want to wake you up but I guess you’re already awake so I just… uh… yeah,” she spits out. You can’t help the massive smile that grows on your lips at her; her nervous rambling, how she didn’t want to disturb your sleep or take your shirt off, the way she’s still being so soft with you. It makes you fall just a little more in love with her.

Her nervous expression fades into small giggles. She looks at her hands in her lap, quietly twisting her fingers together. She asks, “Is it okay if I take your shirt off? Just to fix your shoulder. I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

You nod silently, continuing to smile softly at her. She moves her hands to the hem of your suit’s top, gently pulling tight fabric over your head and chucking it into the hamper on the other side of the room. She quickly gathers her materials and starts examining the cut. 

You look up at her as she inspects you, fear evident in your eyes, silently asking if you need stiches or not. You hate needles and especially didn’t want to get stitched up while you were so out of it. Fortunately, Kate shakes her head.

“No stitches, don’t worry,” she replies, beginning to clean and bandage the wound. You can’t help but admire everything about her for the 50th time tonight. You’re still sleepy, but your staring keeps you contentedly awake.

“All done,” Kate says, breaking you out of your trance. She moves her bandages and other tools to the side so she can take a good look at your arm, then your face. Her hand finds yours, thumb gently rubbing across your knuckles. You look up at her eyes to find her studying you, just as you had been studying her before. You can tell by the way her eyes flick downwards, only for a quick second, and the way they gaze back into yours when they return how desperate she is to kiss you. However eager she is, she knows just as much how exhausted you are and doesn’t want to push you. Regardless, your lips quirk upwards and you squeeze her hand softly to let her know it’s okay. 

She leans forward, pressing her lips to yours as softly as she can. You press a little closer to her to deepen the kiss, just enough for both of you to feel satisfied and bask in the other’s love.

You pull away after a minute or an hour, head spinning and heart pounding. Your hands are still interlocked in your laps and Kate keeps rubbing her thumb over your palm; back and forth, then circles, then tracing your name into your skin. You can almost feel all of her love seeping into you from the small act. You lose track of time again, sitting together and just being.

A yawn from you interrupts the quiet of the moment. Kate giggles at you and reaches behind herself to grab your set of pajamas from the foot of the bed. They’re not technically yours, since the set entirely consists of clothes you stole from her, but she would never dare ask for them back. She likes how you look in her shirt, anyway.

“Here, arms up,” she says. You lazily follow her directions, and she slips the old t-shirt over your head. Then, you work together to take off the rest of your hero suit and exchange it for old flannel pants.

Once you’re dressed, Kate flops on the bed next to you and you curl into her side, happy to finally get to sleep. She starts rubbing your back with one hand, the other picking up your hand again. You bury your face into the crook of her neck, not caring for the small cuts you aggravate. You feel like you can’t get close enough to her. You settle, and it’s quiet for a moment.

“You smell good,” you whisper, breaking the silence. It’s the first thing you’ve said in a while, you realize, since you’ve been too tired to speak. You felt like she needed to know, though, that she smells like home. It should be an odd mix: coconut shampoo, Old Spice deodorant, honey from tea she must have had earlier, yet, it’s so comfortingly Kate.

Kate giggles again. “Thank you. You also smell good,” she murmurs into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You know you don't; you smell like sweat and dirt. It’s nice that she’s nice, though. 

Her touch makes you so sleepy and comfy that you fall asleep within seconds, your hands still intertwined. Neither of you let go for the whole night.

[katebishopsbaefy]

someone please stop me from watching black widow because i cry so hard every time🤩 anyway happy birthday nat ilysm🫶🥲

[katebishopsbaefy]

also if anyone is even here who has an opinion on the matter please let me know if it is okay if i post some of my oc's because i have the couple that i want to post very badly but the thing is 1. i dont have many wiritng ideas and 2. the stuff i would be writing for them would be whump which is very different from "you have a nightmare and kate bishop gives you a hug❤️" but it would also be mostly comfort not hurt because comfort fics are my favorite thing ever so lmk lmk lmk

[katebishopsbaefy]

i love cigarettes after sex so much stop waiting is literally magical im in love

[katebishopsbaefy]

im trying to write a wandanat fic but i am struggling so badly because i don't have any ideas i only have the very end planned out but its okay ill get it done at some point (maybe tonight maybe march 17 2024 i guess we'll find out eventually)

[katebishopsbaefy]

Whatever You Say

kate bishop x reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊

summary: you have a nightmare and kate helps you feel better🥰😋

warnings: nightmares, like one swear word, kate is pretty dorky

word count: 1163

Shaking and sweating, your body jolts awake with the force of your nightmare. Eyes flying open, heavy breaths, eventually gaining enough consciousness to notice the tight grip on your sheets you hadn’t realized you had. With a quick glance at your phone, the numbers glow 3:43.  You rub your eyes and sit up, hands coming away wet with tears you hadn’t realized had fallen. The darkness of your room threatened to consume you.

You’d been staying at the Avengers compound recently. Since you had some time off of school, you figured it would be nice to spend time with everyone. Your room was next to Kate’s, and you knew for a fact she would be awake playing video games. Desperately needing to get out of your room, you make your way over to the door. Really you just wanted to see her. Really you just needed to be near her.

Light showed from the bottom of her door, signaling she was still awake like you predicted. You knock quietly on her door after wiping your face one more time, and after a quick “Yeah?” from the other side, you squeeze through the door into Kate’s room. She knew it was you without having to look.

“Hey,” she says, not looking up from her computer, “why are you up so late?”

You try to reply, but all that comes out is a choke and a sniff.

Her head jerks in your direction at the sound, worry immediately lacing her features as she looks over your tear-stained face. You quickly make your way over to her sitting figure and stand between her legs. She pauses her game, gently taking your hands into hers and squeezing them to reassure you that you’re okay. One hand reaches up to wipe away your tears as she stands out of her chair. You lean your face into her hand, your body into hers. She moves her arms to wrap around your shaking shoulders and you bury your face in her neck.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers, rubbing your back. You let out another quiet sob into her shoulder and cling tighter to her hoodie, shaking your head.

It’s quiet for a couple of minutes before she speaks up again. “Nightmare?” she says even quieter than before. Your eyes squeeze shut and you nod. This time her grip on you tightens. “It’s okay, I got you.”

You pull away and wipe your eyes on your sleeve once you calm down a little. “Sorry for coming in here so late. You can go back to your game, I’m sorry,” you say quietly, making a move to leave.

“Hey, no, don’t do that,” Kate pulls you back before you can get too far. “What can I do to help?” she asks genuinely. As you gaze at her through puffy eyes, she takes your hand again. 

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” you whisper so quietly she almost doesn’t hear you. Thankfully she does, though, and smiles so softly at you that you think you might melt. You’re unable to see the light pink color that tints her cheeks because of the darkness at the suggestion. You know if it wasn’t so late she might’ve started rambling nervously, which you always thought was cute, but you appreciated the softness and sincerity radiating off of her at the moment. 

“Whatever you want. Let me shut off my stuff and then I’ll come with you,” she turns to turn off her game.

“No, you don’t have to. It’s okay. You should finish your game. I’m okay, really,” you tell her. You feel bad for interrupting her alone time, and all you really need is the company. Watching her play her game and sitting on her bed sounded perfect.

“Are you sure? I don’t have to, it’s not a big deal,” she replies.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just need to be near someone.”

“Okay,” she smiles at you and kisses your cheek, “I’ll try not to take too long.”

She sits back down, continuing where she left off. You plop yourself onto her bed and get comfy under the covers. You move in a position so you can see her character over her shoulder. Watching the screen intently, you notice something she misses.

“Kate, there’s a thing behind you,” you point out. You don’t exactly know what it is, but you feel like you should probably point it out.

“Huh?” she questions under her breath, turning her character around. “Oh shit,” she says louder this time, quickly shooting the guy in the face. Apparently, that wins the level for her, and the screen changes. She spins her chair around to face you lying on the bed, smiling. “Thanks for the heads up.”

You smile back. “No problem. Are you done now?”

“Yeah,” she replies, shutting off her computer. She quickly makes her way over, jumping clean over you to the other side of the bed. It makes both you and her bounce on the bed, the whole thing shaking with the sudden movement.

“That was unnecessary,” you giggle, snuggling closer to her.

“Quicker than walking,” she puts her arm around your shoulder, resting your head on her collarbone. She kisses your head very gently. “Less scary, too. Monsters can’t grab your feet if there are no feet to grab,” she shrugs.

“Whatever you say.”

You yawn as Kate starts to rub your back through your shirt, knowing it helps you sleep. She watches you try to fight sleep, moving her hand under the fabric to brush her fingers over your bare skin. “Sleepy?” she asks.

“No.” You force your eyes to open again. You’re tired but don't want to have another nightmare. 

It’s silent for a minute. “Do you want to talk about it?” Kate asks quietly. She feels your grip on her shirt tighten a little and decides to rest her free hand on yours, rubbing circles on both it and your back. She knows the answer before it leaves your mouth, before you even have time to think about it. “We don��t have to. I just want to help you feel better.”

“I do feel better,” you say. And you do feel better with her, but you’re not sure if you feel up to going back to sleep.

“Are you sure?” You nod. “Okay. If you wanna sleep, I’ll be here the whole time. I can fight off any bad dreams. See these muscles?” She flexes her arm a little bit and taps the side of your head. “Don’t even worry about it, I got you. I’ll just punch ‘em in the face.”

You giggle at her antics. Usually, you’d tell her she’s cheesy or not as ripped as she thinks she is, but you’re too sleepy to mess with her.

“Whatever you say, Katie.” 

You fall asleep not even five minutes later. Kate shifts a little to flick off the light and pulls the blanket up further, fully intent on keeping her word.

You don't have another nightmare for the rest of the night.

[katebishopsbaefy]

how do i tell if a girl likes me or if just being a nice decent person😫🫣😰 someone help pls🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

[katebishopsbaefy]

heyyyyyyyy yall i've only got one fic out rn but i'm working on another one (this ones kate my pookie wookie dookie) and itll probably be out like next week or smth im not rlly sure but anyway i write bad poetry and i have oc's (i might do some whump writing??? idk if anyone wants to see that pls tell me yes or no 🙏) but yeah if anyone is interested in my bad poetry or my oc's pls lmk cause i kinda want to post them but a bit nervous because i feel like people don't rlly care abt poetry as much as like fics or anything so lmk lmk lmk pls thank you a lot 😊

[katebishopsbaefy]

me bc i’m seeing boygenius tonight: 💃🕺

[katebishopsbaefy]

Soup and Sniffles

natasha romanoff x reader

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚༘

summary: you're sick and dont want natasha to find out. she finds out, fluff ensues.

word count: 961

a/n: hey everyone this is the first fic im posting pls no hate 😄😘

You practically fall through your open window onto the floor of your bedroom, knees almost buckling underneath you. You’re able to catch yourself in just enough time to stop your face from slamming into the ground. The impact from your sort of fall is still loud, though, and you pray Natasha couldn’t hear it.

You realized you were sick two days ago, but only today had you really started to feel the full effects of your illness. School was a nightmare with a stuffy nose and constant headache, and with no time in between classes and patrol, you were absolutely miserable. But, not wanting to worry Natasha or risk being labeled as “useless”, you kept it to yourself and stuck it out. One fight in particular left you stumbling and sneezing, the guy’s ice powers making you feel even more sick. You’d managed to make your way to your shared apartment with Natasha. You couldn’t wait to take a much needed nap.

A knock on the door makes you jump up from your spot on the floor, which you happened to be very comfortable in. Natasha’s voice is muffled by the door.

“Y/N? What the hell was that?” she asks. Shit.

You panic. Clear your throat as quietly as you can, hoping to sound much less congested than you are. “Nothing! I’m ok, I swear.”

“I’m coming in,” she states, and she’s next to you before you can even begin to protest. She notices the carpet moved out of place under your feet and smirks. “Did you fall through the window?” 

“Maybe,” you reply. She quirks an eyebrow at you. “Rough ni-” you start, but a cough racks through your body and you’re forced to double over. You recover as quickly as possible, shooting back up with a sniffle and a smile. “Rough night,” you finish. You break eye contact with her once you see the concern laced in her green eyes. 

“I can tell. Did you get hit?” she asks, looking up and down your body looking for an injury that could be the source of your cough. She takes your face into her hands and studies the cuts littering it until your own hands push hers away.

“No, I’m fine. Well, I did get hit, but I’m fine. No problem.” You smile at her. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

The back of Natasha’s hand finds your forehead before you can react. Your mind tells you to pull away, but your body leans into the contact in search of comfort. She frowns as you sniff again. “You’re sick.”

“No I’m not,” you argue, finally finding the strength to pull her hand away from you. It drops to her side and her eyes search yours.

“Yes, you are. How long have you been sick for?”

“I haven’t been sick because I’m not sick.”

“Then why do you sound so gross?”

“I’m not gross.”

“You’re pretty gross.”

“I’m not sick, Nat! Jesus,” you swipe your hand under your nose and sniffle miserably. Her fingers find your face once more and she turns your chin to look at her, thumb swiping away a tear you didn’t know had fallen. Natasha looks at you, really looks at you. You’re shivering under her touch, just slightly, but enough for her to notice. Your eyes are sunken and red, as well as the tip of your nose and your cheeks. She looks back into your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asks softly, barely above a whisper. 

Tears fill your eyes and you let them. “I don’t feel good,” you tell her, and the wall breaks. She pulls you into her and kisses the top of your head. You're very aware of the grossness you're getting on her shirt, but she doesn’t care. 

“I got you,” she whispers over and over into your hair, rubbing circles on your back as you sob. Eventually your legs simply give out, but she’s there to hold you up. Drags you over to your bed and pulls away, forcing you to look at her. She hands you a tissue to blow your nose into.

“Gross,” she comments. You giggle tearily and she smiles at you. “I’ll make you soup if you wanna go shower.”

“Mkay. C’n you do tha’ thing where you put m’ clothes in the dryer so they’re all warm?” you look up at her with the best puppy eyes you can muster. This time she giggles at you.

“I guess so. Try not to take twelve hours in the shower, I want hot water too.”

You know she really wouldn’t care if you took forever, as long as it made you feel better.

You jump in the shower, and when you’re out (45 minutes later), there’s fresh clothes sitting on the toilet for you, plus a fluffy towel. You throw on the clothes and ring out your hair, walking towards the kitchen to the smell of soup. 

Natasha watches you and shoots you a small smile. “Better?” she asks.

“Yeah. Less gross,” you reply honestly. Your nose is a lot less congested and your shivering stopped for the most part. You plop yourself down in your spot on the couch and Liho, Nat’s cat, jumps up with you. You pull her into your arms and lay down on a pillow given to you by some distant relative, paying little attention to the sitcom running on the tv.

Nat turns to bring you a bowl of soup, but sees you passed out on the couch, snoring quietly. She walks over and grabs your favorite blanket from over the top of the couch, draping it over you and kissing your forehead. Notices you’re a lot less warm than before, smiles down at you. The soup could wait for later.