#a couch potato to hold

[questionable-idea]

Owning a dog would honestly fix me in so many ways

[letitrainathousandflames]

Put your foot behind your head? 👀

yup! I have quite mobile joints so I've always been able to do it - btw did y'all new followers ever see my aerial dancing video?

[ask-potato-sans]

if thare was no ketchup or spaghetti in the world what would you eat?

And I oop--

[fushitoru]

the importance of skincare a gojo satoru fic

PAIRING: gojo x reader SUMMARY: worried about your boyfriend's skin health, you're set out on a mission to teach him about skincare, sitting him down and rubbing products over his face while seated on his lap. only, he convinces you that he has something to teach as well about facials. just not the kind you expected. WARNINGS: NOT EDITED, oral (m!rec), gojo cums all over reader's face, nsfw, FLUFF (a lot of it), established relationship, gojo is a nuisance, gn!reader, i have writer's block and this helped, silly little thought based off this drabble

“Applying sunscreen on my boyfriend because otherwise, this is what we’ll look like when we’re 60.”

You gasped out loud, despite being alone. Rolling around on the couch you were lazing in, you stared at the paused screen in front of you: a woman and her boyfriend, except she’s finely aged with a few wrinkles, and he looks like an extremely wrinkled potato. Suddenly, your mind flashes back to all the moments your boyfriend, Satoru, would scroll on his phone while you finished your nighttime skin care routine.

“Baby, you really should start doing some skincare.” You give him a sideways glance while rubbing snail mucin all over your face.

Satoru looks up from whatever nonsensical reel on his page half heartedly and observes you as you pat your hands all over your face and neck. “I wash my face.”

“Using your 13-in-1 wash?”

“I don’t use 13-in-1 wash.” Satoru fully looks up, frowning. Sassily, he adds, “And what you’re rubbing all over your face looks like cum.”

That’s as much prodding you’ve done to convince your boyfriend to adopt better facial hygiene, but today was different. You were not about to let your pretty boyfriend get skin cancer or age like milk.

The door opened, as Satoru stepped into your apartment. “Hi, baby!” You perked up from washing your dishes, your form barely able to peek over the kitchen counters over to him, at your doorstep. He can hear pitter patters of your feet as you make your way to him. Then your warmth envelops him, smelling of dish soap and rose. He gives a little mwah! to the top of your head while murmuring, “I bought crepes for you today. Extra Nutella and everything.”

But rather than excitedly reaching for the crepes, you stayed in his hold, hugging onto him tight and stuffing your face in his shirt, breathing in deeply as if to memorize his scent. Satoru confusedly looks down at you, hesitantly coming up to rub your scalp to give you head scratches with his free hand. “Are you okay?” 

“Satoru, we have to talk,��� you mumble into his chest. 

Alarmed, Satoru looks down at you. “Oh my god,” Satoru nervously exclaims, “at least let me put down our crepes before you give me a heart attack.” Your only response is to nuzzle your face further into his chest, while he grabs your hand, unwraps you from him, and leads you to your couch. He puts the crepes down on the dinner table and grabs both of your hands, pouting and frowning slightly in that sweet, ignorant way of his. “What happened? Did I do something wrong?”

You glanced up at him, staring in distress. “Babe, you need to do your skincare.”

“This is what you wanted to talk about?” Satoru looks at you confused. “I thought it was something serious.” You almost want to sob at the way he looks like a confused kitten. You don’t understand why you’re so hung up over that one TikTok—although, your menstrual cycle app did say menstruation was near—but it definitely changed your outlook on your boyfriend’s skin health. 

“This is serious.” You were visibly growing more and more listless until you suddenly make the decision to stand up and make your way somewhere towards the bathroom. 

When you came back, you had your hefty Chanel purse, one that Satoru gifted you for your 2nd year anniversary. You set it down in the space between you and Satoru with a plop! as you began to rummage through the contents to find your essential skincare items. Dragging him to the bathroom, you command him to wash his face. And, to his credit, he does go through all the motions, albeit a little confused. 

A few minutes later, you sit him down on the couch—with your skincare items in hand—and take your seat on his lap. Satoru’s still a little confused as to what’s going on, but—to his credit—you aren’t doing much explanation, either. 

“Baby, I’m really confused,” Satoru is now putting his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to his torso as you lather different creams on your hands. Any further questions from him are stopped as you gently rub them all over his face, targeting his T-zone and cheeks. 

“I saw a TikTok of this girl ‘nd her boyfriend, ‘Toru,” you explain, lathering his face. “He doesn’t do his sunscreen, so he’s going to look like an overboiled tomato when he’s 60. Didn’t want the same for you.” 

 You continue to reach for another bottle, until you realize it’s set too far down the table for you to reach. Naturally, Satoru reaches it for you and puts it in your hands, frowning. “You made me so worried. I thought I did something wrong.”

“You are doing something wrong. You’re doing your pretty skin wrong.” You were scowling, but your hands were sweetly patting Satoru’s face in a way that made him relax. After a long day of dealing with Yaga, he appreciated your soothing hands massaging the tension out of his face. It was never easy dealing with dissaproving old fucks. 

Deciding to adjust his posiiton, Satoru crossed his arms behind his head, laying back onto the couch instead of sitting. Closing his eyes, he felt you straddling him in an effort to reach across his torso to his face to continue your pampering. You both fell into a comfortable silence as you droned on about what you were putting onto his face. A serum that smelled good. “This is hyaluronic acid serum. This’ll keep your face nice and hydrated.” A cream that felt cold on Satoru’s skin. “This is niacinamide, because I know you picked on your acne and boogers when you were going through puberty.” He wanted to protest, but it was so hard to when you pair the insult with a small smooch on his nose. Something that smelled harsher than the others. “This is retinol, and it’ll help you prevent wrinkles.”

In the midst of your teaching, he cracked open an eye and grabbed both of your hands by the wrist, seemingly in thought. “Wait, babe. You’re missing something.” You blinked. “What?” 

“Well, there’s this thing called facials." The beginnings of a smug smile bloomed across his face. It’s really good for your skin, ‘nd I have just the thing with me."

“‘Toru, you are so stupid,” you whined, licking up and down his cock and balls, giving little kisses to his pink and throbbing length.

“Shhh, baby, this is good fo’ you, I promise.” Sounds of plap! plap! echoed throughout the room as your boyfriend slapped his cock against your cheeks. He groaned, taking in the arousing sight of you: on your knees, only wearing his shirt. His cock hardens at the thought of you, his pretty little girlfriend, spending all day in his clothing. He could see your cute little baby blue panties covering your ass as his shorts rode up in your attempts to take his cock deeper in your mouth. As you continued to slobber on his cock, deepthroating him, he could continually smell your arousal, moaning as he realized you must be ruining your underwear.

“Awww, I can smell you, sweetheart. Your little pussy getting wet from just sucking my cock? I’m not even touching you,” Satoru pouted in faux pity and cooed, patting your head while he continually fed you his cock. 

You tried to protest. “Mmmff—” 

“Shhhh,” Satoru had a cocky smile on his face as he shushed you. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, baby.” With that, he lightly grabbed your hair, looking down at you for permission. When you nodded, he began face fucking you in earnest, cock throbbing as your hot, wet mouth enclosed around him. Your tongue laving over his sensitive spots made him groan. “Your mouth feel sooo good. What a good girl, taking my cock, slobbering all over it—fuck.”

He felt himself coming closer. “Baby,” he groaned, “you’re about to make me cum. Gotta give you your facial, right? Make you all nice and pretty?” You whined, tears running down your cheeks because of your stuffed mouth. It sent vibrations up and down his cock, making him come even closer. “Fuuuuck. Fuck, I’m coming.” Satoru pulled out of your mouth, pumping his cock onto your face, your tongue stretched and your eyes directly on his. Rubbing your tongue softly on his tip was what made him reach his climax; he moaned as he splurted long and think ropes of cum, coating your cheeks, forehead, and tongue. It was all so messy. Even after being done, Satoru was continually rubbing his cum into your skin with his cock. 

“Wheeew.” Satoru giggled, reaching down to put you on his lap. “Looks like you got your skincare.”

“Satoru, please give me a tissue. Right now. Your cum is dripping all over my face.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he whined. To your annoyance, he only further rubbed in the creamy substance over your face, using his palms and fingers to spread it. 

Disgusted, you knew what to say. “You’re never getting head from me ever again.”

Satoru had never scrambled to the bathroom faster.

a/n lol he's so stupid. this is the only thing i could force my brain to write but now i'm locked in and finishing all my drafts fr

[pyrrhiccomedy]

This is my cat.

His name is Eddie Potato.

Eddie Potato came home with us from the animal shelter in January (so about 9 months ago, now). He was around five years old, and had been living on the street before he was picked up by the cops and brought to the state run shelter (my boy was arrested for loitering). When we met him, he was sick, mite-infested, and covered in matted fur, scratches, and bites: but he was also very sweet, and very friendly, and he was already fixed, so we knew he must have once had a home with some loving humans.

[Eddie at his first vet appointment, trying to hide behind a paper towel.]

We'll never know what Eddie's first family was like, of course: but within a couple of weeks of adopting him, we were able to make a few guesses. He was happy to be pet, and calm about being picked up: but the only way he had to let us know that he'd like us to stop petting him was to swat our hands away, claws out. He'd then watch us, very closely, a little tense; like he was either expecting to be scolded for scratching, or expecting us to try to touch him again.

This told us that he had an affectionate family, but maybe not one that respected his boundaries. Maybe it was a family with kids, or maybe just a loving but pushy owner.

He's a medium-to-long haired cat, so he needs a bit of grooming to stay hygienic around his, let's say, pants area. I bought some quality clippers and a pet grooming electric razor. The clippers he was completely calm about: he let me trim the mats out of his fur very calmly, even the ones behind his ears.

The razor terrified him. I mean, he knew what it was on sight. He was sitting next to me on the couch when I took it out of the box, and the moment he saw it, his ears went back; he crouched low and fearful; and then jumped down and ran out of the room.

Okay; so his first family groomed him, or took him to a groomer, that was obvious: and it was probably a 'hold him down and get it over with' kind of experience, given how frightened he was.

He was very sweet, and very gentle - except when he wanted you to stop petting him. This was a cat who expected kindness, who believed that the humans around him were his friends: but he'd learned that his friends wouldn't listen to him when he told them to stop unless he drew a little bit of blood.

We just thought: wow, this cat is a really good communicator. He is being, like, so clear.

Eddie Potato is a very stupid boy - uncommonly stupid, even for a cat - so we prepared ourselves for it to take a while for him to learn that things had changed. We paid very close attention to him while we were petting him for the signs leading up to that swat, and we got better and better at stopping before the swat ever came.

I let him get used to the razor very slowly: for the first week, I just set it next to his food bowl at dinner time, about a foot away, so he could see it while he was at his happiest. For the next week, I'd pick up the razor, and move it around while he ate. The week after that, I turned it on for a few seconds, so he could start to get used to the noise. The week after that, it went on for most of his meal time, and I moved it around his body while I pet him: so he could start to associate the razor sound with nice touching.

Then I groomed him. And he was - fine. A little bit antsy, but fine. Happily munching away at his dinner while I neatened up his pantaloons. I usually only had about a minute before he made it clear that he wanted it to stop, but that was okay: I just groomed him for a minute or so for two or three days in a row, until the job was done.

After four months, Eddie Potato wasn't scared of the razor at all anymore.

And it broke my heart a little bit, because his first family had clearly loved him. And Eddie is a cat who needs to be groomed! And it had obviously always been a scary and stressful experience for him. But it didn't have to be! He just needed patience! Surely, if the people he had lived with before had known that he could learn to not be afraid in just a few months, they would have tried.

Teaching him that he didn't need to swat didn't take much longer. It was so clear that this was not a cat who wanted to hurt us. Once we got the hang of stopping before he got tired or stressed out by petting, the swatting went away completely.

What was so sweet was what he learned to do instead: when he was done with being pet, he started placing his big paws on my hand, and gently but firmly pushing it away.

"Oh, okay!" I'd say. "We're done!" and take my hand away. And he'd watch me, for two or three seconds: and then he'd start to purr like crazy, and push under my hand again.

He wanted to be pet. He just wanted to know that he could make it stop if he wanted to!

It's been months now since the last time Eddie swiped at either of us. Sometimes, he likes to play his little push-away game for ten or twenty minutes at a time! He rolls onto his back for a belly rub, and I do for a few minutes; then he pushes my hand away, and watches to make sure I listened; then he rolls onto his back again for more belly rubs. The whole time purring, purring, purring. Eddie loves his belly rubs, and he loves being listened to just as much.

I'm just so proud of him! He's had such a hard and scary year: losing his family, living on the street, ending up in a kill shelter, going to a strange new home with strange new people. And he still extended his friendship and trust to us, and let us show him that he doesn't need to be scared anymore, of razors or hands or thunderstorms or the sound of traffic. He's so dumb and so small and he's had so much happen to him, and now he gets exactly as much petting as he likes, and he isn't afraid to get his pantaloons trimmed.

Like. That's my little guy. I get to make sure he'll be okay from now on.

[13curses]

i really think satosugu love carrying you around. i really fucking do!!!

( implied polyamory ) you’d be chatting with suguru in your shared bedroom while casually changing out of your outer wear, and after you turn around subsequent to getting rid of your pants, he has his arms open and is bending forward to welcome you in his hold. and you obey, walking over to be have him pick you up like a koala, being chauffeured to the bathroom. you’re drawn a bath while you’re sat down on top of the washing machine with a forehead kiss.

satoru loves to playfight with you & half of it is concluded by you being thrown over his shoulder, easily carrying you by the grip of your thighs as you throw small-fisted punches at his back. he flips you here n there with no difficulty, sometimes if you turn to feisty bites as a weapon he’ll flinch, then snicker, but he wouldn’t drop you ever.

“satoruuu—!” you’d complain by the time you’re flopping in his hands, held up in the air, like a kitten. “i’m gettin’ dizzy..!”

and he’d do his bidding, pulling you close so you can rest your chin upon his shoulder as he rubs your back in circles, calling the fight off. you’d get victory-tickles, though. in general he loves delivering you over his shoulder, for so long you could level up in hay day by the time he puts you on your feet.

suguru rests his cheeks between your thighs as you sit on his wide shoulders, not needing to hold your shins for balance. sometimes he drums on your knees with his fingers & nuzzles your thighs to get your attention if he wants to show you something. when you’re feeling silly you clench your thighs against his cheeks while he’s speaking, muffling his words (he’ll bite them).

satoru sometimes bears you under his arm like you’re a sack of lightweight potatoes.

they take turns carrying your asleep body from the couch to bed in bridesmaid style. they let you sit on one of their singular shoulders, akin to a trophy. they lift you by your waist or ribs to help you reach something. hell, they will pass you over to switch who gets to hold their favorite baby.

satosugu love to lift you around like you don’t have fucking legs oml let me tell you !!!!!

[bunnys-kisses]

vegetable patch (3)

farmer!captain john price & (brief) hybrid!simon

cw: hybrid au, bunny!reader, farmer!price, pregnant!reader, pregnancy, man-handling, fingering, pwp/smut, full nelson (sex position), oral sex (f receiving), threesome, guard dog!simon, double penetration, older!price, mindbreak, (there's a lot happening),

part one (simon) | part two (simon & johnny)

bunny says: like the fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? suggest your own!

john never thought it would get to this. when he bought the farm and raised his hybrid guard dogs, he never expected to have a bunny around. let along a pregnant one.

but almost six months into your pregnancy, he had grown affectionate of you. sure you were a bit to handle sometimes, but in a way pregnancy, a roof over your head and a fully belly (in both ways) has made you softer. less of a wild animal and more of a pet.

it was cute.

the one thing that didn't change was your insatiable lust. originally price thought that two strong hybrid dogs would take care of your little bunny cunt, but not even those could stop you. let alone the heaviness of your middle.

the boys were out patrolling the yard with you safe in the house. you were curled up on simon's doggy bed with your hands on your belly and your hands situated on your belly with your head propped up on a pillow.

it was cute, john found himself almost enamored by the sight of you as he relaxed on the couch with a beer in his hand. you were just so small, the little bit of chub at your hips only made you seem cuter.

he got up from the couch and left the beer on the table as he walked toward you. he crouched down and rubbed your cheek. you leaned into his touch and whimpered a little. he chuckled and said, "good girl."

your eyes opened a little and you looked up at price, "what time is it?" your little tail did a wiggle under the over-sized shirt that you wore. he chuckled and pulled you close to him.

he fully sat down on the floor and took you into his arms, delicately. his hand grazed your middle, "not even close to lunch, the boy's are still out. it's just you and i."

you dipped your nose into the crook of his neck and you whimpered, "i feel wet."

"yeah, havin' wet dreams about simon, mama?"

"no." you said, "about you." as your hand reaches for his shirt and you held onto it. you buried your face deeper into his neck as he held you on the hardwood floor.

price's eyes went wide for a moment but then slowly got up with you in his arms. it was like holding a sack of potatoes. the most prominent part of you was the puppy was slept soundly in your belly.

"then i guess we must go to bed then. i know you love simon's bed, but my knees and back won't let me fuck you on the floor." his voice was gruff.

you giggled, "be gentle, baby's sleeping."

"of course, bunny." he replied as he brought you upstairs to his bedroom. there was a spare room for guests and an extra room for the three hybrids of his home.

but right now he was taking you to his room where he could fuck that sweet bunny cunt. it hadn't been the first time he had ever done it, but every time it was something else. a wild little hybrid now tamed and under his gentle care, the way he tamed his boys.

the bed was large and soft, he placed you down and started to work on the jeans he wore followed by the flannel of his shirt. he was hairier than simon and johnny, who had tufts here and there to show their hybrid heritage. but price was hairy that was a man was.

you wondered if a human got a hybrid pregnant then what would the baby be. because from the size of price, you were certain to have a heavy newborn. you got off your shirt and sat there naked on the bed, exposed to your farmer.

his large hands touched your belly gently, thumb grazed the stretch marks, "keepin' the little pup nice and safe, huh? bein' a good mama for me?

you nodded, "only the best for you, sir."

he reached down and rubbed your chubby little cheek, "i can see why simon trapped ya." he chuckled, "cute thing like you shouldn't be wandering the woods. that little cottontail will get into too much trouble."

he got onto the bed and man-handled you into his lap, he wanted to feel you as deep as he could. he wanted to know the inside and outside of bunny cunt. but the position he got you into was more of a wrestling move to keep you pinned against him.

you put your knees up to your head and he had your arms pinned back against him. your squirmed a little, you sort of loved the idea of being trapped. john was propped up against the oak headboard with his little pet bunny in his lap with her cunt soon full of his cock.

it was a little hard to do with such a big belly in the way, you had to squish it a little as you were moved to fit his position. you faced the door that led out of the bedroom and with a few misplaced thrusts, you moaned when price sank his cock into you.

"ah, sir!" you whimpered.

he thrusted into you and kept you in the position. it tested you physical limits but john was a strong man and you were a flexible bunny. after all you had to get through his fence somehow. but now you were all nice a plump with child.

price groaned at the idea of you pregnant with his child next. such a sweet little bunny carrying the farmer's seed made his cock throb while buried inside of you. you sweet noises were music to his ears.

"you like that, mama." he groaned, "you like when i fuck you hard?" he kissed the shell of your ear, "simon got lucky to have a taste of you first, because if it were me. if i caught you in my vegetable patch, then you'd never get the taste of my cock out of your mouth."

you kicked your legs out a little bit as he sank into your further, as deep as it would go. you could feel his cock pressed against your womb. your ears twitched and you felt soaked.

"you'd like that wouldn't you. maybe a little bit more time before you go on birth control would do you some good. see if you can take this old man's seed in your pretty, fertile cunt." he grumbled, "bunnies are known for their many babies."

you felt something churn in your stomach as your pregnant belly bounced with every hard thrust. the sex was rough, heat filled the air as you two moved together.

"i like how you look, mama. all swollen with pup. i bet it was so easy for you, took simon's seed so nicely." he purred as he held you tightly, making it slightly uncomfortable.

but you felt on cloud nine, until the bedroom door opened. and on the otherside was none other than your lover, simon. you whimpered and kicked out your legs.

simon was covered in muck, blood across the shirt he wore. he watched you as you were cock drunk and raised an eyebrows, "price." he said, "what are you doin' with my girl."

"she needed a little tlc, simon." he replied, "you know what bunnies are like. they could be having thirteen kits and still beg for another." he looked over your shoulder and asked, "what the hell did you get into."

"had to scare of a coyote." simon replied, "he could smell bunny all the way from the fence. that's how i knew you were fuckin' her."

"then get that shirt off and help me out." john replied as his pace became harder. you saw stars and your mouth hung open for a moment in pure lust.

with his shirt off and dropped to the floor, followed by, his jeans. he was soon on the bed and licking at your sweet cunt as price fucked you. you were trapped between the two men and you felt a dizziness in your mind.

this was somehow more intense than the threesome you had with johnny and simon. simon only let those in his 'pack' have a taste of his pregnant mate, which meant coyotes like graves were off limits. if simon ever saw graves' paws on you.

simon kept your legs open with his strong hands, the tips of his claws left indents in your skin as he lapped at your cunt. his tongue did touch price's cock which made the older man feel hot all over.

you were the loudest out of the three of you, your voice was high pitched and you felt so full. you squirmed against both men but they kept you still as best as they could.

you came once, then twice, the three times from the pleasure from both men. it was sensory overload. your mind went blank by the third orgasm that the men pulled from you. which left simon painfully hard.

"got any room in there, price." simon said as he pulled away from your cunt and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. his cock stood at full attention in his underwear.

"well, she'll need a good stretch if she's havin' your pup." price chuckled, he could feel himself getting closer. you on the other hand were mindlessly moaning without being able to form words.

your pussy was so wet that he slid in next to price with ease. the stretch made you whimper like an animal, but soon you were dropped back into the depths of pleasure as both men used you.

price let go of your arms but caged you with his around your middle. you felt sore, but your brain couldn't register much. your mouth hung open and drooled a little. your brain felt like it was broken in half.

"i know you can't smell it, price." simon said, "but bred bunny smells the best." his hands were on your belly and soon were price's. simon felt superior for having seeded you first.

sure his other packmates had their fun, but everything from the pup in your belly to the cotton on your tail was his. he watched your gasp for air as you tried to formulate thoughts.

his poor pregnant mate, such a beating to your pussy. but it was okay, he knew that you liked it. bunny's had a pension for a little pain.

both men, fucked you without much abandon. they ever managed to pull one last orgasm out of you which tore from your throat as you went limp against price's hairy chest. the feeling of two cocks inside of your cute little cunt was just too much.

and not wasting any seed, they flooded your poor pussy with human and hybrid seed alike. they stayed in you for a moment more before they pulled out at the same time. cum oozed out of you and simon petted your belly.

"johnny's gonna be jealous he didn't get to join." price remarked.

simon replied, "before he went out on patrol with me. he stuffed a sock in her mouth and fucked her in his bed on the floor. she's got all of our seed in her."

price held you in his arms as you twitched and moaned from the aftershocks of your activity. he watched simon kiss you before he rubbed your belly, "good mama. good little bunny, now you rest and keep growing that pup. simon and i will come back for you later."

you managed to give them a weak nod, your brain felt flat-lined but the lingering feelings of pleasure still shook you to your core <3

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊⇢ had a depressive episode yesterday and just whipped this up to feel better. a little selfshipy but is suitable for anyone 💕

『 ෆ k.bakugo x fem!reader 』

“C’mere already,” Katsuki calls from his bed, arms outstretched as he lays on his back. “I’m not gonna ask again.”

You comply, stalking over from the doorway and crawling across the sheets into his embrace, face snug against his chest. He sighs into your hair, planting a few soft kisses onto the top of your head.

“Ya look like you needed some love, peach.”

It’s almost scary how well Katsuki can read your emotions. You hadn’t even told him that you were feeling down, he just knew by your mannerisms.

“How’d you know?” You ask sheepishly. You’d gotten to his apartment a few hours ago…how’d he read you so quickly? Well, it could have been that you showed up in sweatpants and his hoodie - your go-to comfort, low energy outfit.

“I jus’ do. ‘S like a sixth sense.”

“That’s for ghosts, dummy,” you giggle while idly fiddling with the material of his shirt.

You can practically hear the grin in his reply. “Got ya ‘ta laugh, didn’t it?” He gives you a light squeeze and kisses your forehead.

How can two people be so connected? It often left you wondering how you’ve gotten so lucky to have someone like Katsuki around, let alone adore and love you with his entire being.

“Any dinner requests?” He asks, shaking you out of your train of thought. “Y’gotta be hungry, I haven’t seen ya eat all day.”

You pull back from his embrace and pinch his cheek, bringing your lips to his for a gentle kiss. “Oh, is Chef Bakugo taking requests now?”

“Not if you’re gonna heckle me about it. And it’s Chef Dynamight, get it right!” he retorts with a huff.

“Whatever you were gonna make, I’m fine with.”

Katsuki sits up, releasing you from his hold and scoots to the edge of the bed. He motions for you to follow him.

Once the two of you are in the kitchen, he grabs you by the waist and tugs you over to an empty section of the countertop. Effortlessly, he picks you up and sits you on the marble. Katsuki shimmies between your legs, one hand on each thigh as he graces you with a sweet smile - a rare sight.

“Ya don’t gotta do anythin’, sweets. Your job is to look pretty while I cook for you, ‘kay?” He gives you a quick peck on the lips and pats your thighs before turning toward the cabinet to grab his cutting board and spices.

For the next hour, you silently watch Katsuki prep dinner for the two of you. He’s decided to make a chicken curry, one of your favorites, all from scratch. He’s got the sauce simmering on the stove while cutting up the vegetables and potatoes. You’ve tucked your legs up to your chest, resting your head on your knees as you watch him in his element, bouncing between tasks without breaking his concentration. Before Katsuki tosses the peppers he’s cut into the pot, he pops a small piece into his mouth and offers you one as well. You take it from him without hesitation - he loves to have you taste test and sample anything involving his cooking, even if it’s just a simple bell pepper.

After another 15 minutes passes, the ding! of the rice maker signals that everything is ready to eat. You slide off the counter and skip over to grab plates when Katsuki scoops you up by the waist from behind, bunching the hoodie up your midsection.

“Oh no ya don’t! Sit your stubborn ass down an’ let me get it.”

You sigh in defeat, closing the cabinet as he whisks you out of the kitchen and plops you onto the couch in the living room. Within a few minutes, Katsuki reappears with two full plates of curry. He sets them both on the coffee table and turns to grab the blanket off the back of the couch, unfolding it to drape over your legs.

He does a double take around the room while grabbing the TV remote. “Need anythin’ else, baby?”

You shake your head, responding with a soft “no.”

Katsuki joins you under the blanket and hands you your plate from the table. He settles in next to you, turning on a mindless reality show before kicking his feet up on the table and leaning into you - blissfully sinking into the cushions.

“This shit is so fuckin’ stupid, but it’s fun to hear the wild commentary you do,” Katsuki quips with a laugh. “Like how the fuck do these people even breathe on their own?”

“Beats me, and yet they’re richer than we’ll ever be,” you joke, digging into your curry with a satisfying hum.

Katsuki kisses you on the cheek before returning to his curry, fascinated with the stupidity of the reality show. He knows you’re thankful, never expecting a verbal ‘thank you’ in times like these. Your smile and laugh, along with the return of the twinkle in your eyes, was enough for him.

💥 tags; @slayfics ✨

[jjenthusee]

Aches

Pairing: jason todd x reader

A/N: i burnt my arm making baked potatoes and i wanted to write a drabble on that lol ENJOY :) comment ur thoughts

Summary: Nothing gets past Jason and you don’t mind a caring man at your side. You don’t know how baked potatoes led to an intimate conversation between you two, but anything for the man willing to drop everything for you.

Tags: potato troubles, fluff, hurt/comfort if u squint, soft jason, trigger warning: slight description of burns

Word Count: 1.4k

You stared wordlessly at the burn, oven mitts still in your hands.

You had seared two areas of your arm. It hadn’t hurt when you had accidentally touched the edges of the hot oven, but looking at it made your face scrunch.

The pain had only started once you looked at the damage. Two thin lines of seared skin, still slightly pink from the sudden heat.

Great.

You just wanted baked potatoes and you were going to place them on the rack, but at the cost of your lack of coordination, you grazed the oven with your arm.

The sound of water from the bathroom had shut off, Jason appearing in the corner of your eye as you stood there.

You were tired and another problem had been placed in your hands, or on your arm.

“What you cookin’ sweets—“ Jason lazily walked, trying to rub out the knots in his neck from a late-night patrol.

When you stood there, wordlessly holding oven mitts, had Jason sensed something was off.

Like the analyzer he was, his head perked up, a moment before he was assessing your entire body and kitchen as he briskly walked to you.

Despite being in his leisure clothes, he was ready for any sort of intrusion, but before he could pull out any sort of weaponry mounted to the underside of the kitchen table, did he spot the burns.

In a delicate motion, he turned your arm. You held onto the festive oven mitt as he adjusted your arm.

“Oh, sweets.” Jason softly whispered.

Judging by the preheated oven, potatoes, and the oven mitts you loosely gripped, Jason had put the pieces of events in the correct sequence.

“Lets get this cleaned up and then I can apply a cream.” Jason grabbed the mitts from your palms. “Then I’ll get you some medicine, in case it still hurts, sound okay?”

You nodded, looking down at your own mistake before you sighed.

“Yeah, thanks Jay.” You squeezed his forearm in a quiet thanks.

In a softened gaze, Jason rubbed your hand in return.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before. I’m gonna grab the first aid, you wanna sit on the couch?”

You let yourself sink into the cushions as Jason cleaned up what wasn’t already placed inside the oven.

He sat in front of you, his sheer size leveling out as he sat on the floor, removing the cap off the burn cream you kept in the first aid and placing a cool towel over your arm.

“Isn’t the floor cold?” You watched Jason focus on addressing your arm, first aid kit right by his side. His eyebrows firmly in a line—his concentration contorting his face.

It made you smile.

“It’s not.” Jason intently kept his eyes down, his lashes angled to his cheek.

You raised your free arm to play with his messy hair. It had fallen onto his forehead, spread in clumps.

“You’re lying. My feet were freezing earlier.” You continued to smile as you played with his hair strands, twirling his white streak in between your fingers. “Weather is getting cold, you might have to stay over every night to keep me warm.”

Jason had been growing out his hair the longer the two of you stayed together.

Partly from a passing comment that you liked his hair long and from how he felt comfortable enough to focus on his appearance for once.

He had struggled looking in the mirror for more than a passing glance, but with every reassuring compliment, cheek kiss, and late-night holding had he started to open up to the idea of treasuring his appearance.

Maybe it wasn’t initially for himself, but you wanted to lift him in the ways he had always worshipped your own skin, your heart—your entire self.

Jason’s chuckle interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes lost on the smile lines appearing on the edges of his mouth.

Your heart fluttered at the thought of how they would age as he did. How you can make him laugh and smile to make deeper lines.

You hand slowly drifted down to his eyebrow, to his cheeks, down to small scars littering his face.

Rubbing each blurred skin, sealing the past in a lightened patch.

Your hand drifted again.

Jason flinched at the feel of your subtle fingers at the edges of the misshapen “J” that littered his face.

Your eyes widen at the realization of your thoughtless movements.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—“ You pulled your hand away.

“No, it’s—it’s fine. Really.” Jason clasped onto your fleeing hand with his own. Your cluster of hands hanging in the air.

In one breath, Jason slowly moved your hand back to his cheek. His eyes closing just before your finger touched back onto his scar—like he was bracing for the same sting he felt all those years ago.

You sadly watched the vulnerability of the man sitting on the floor in front of you. His large hands, gracefully aiding you to touch a deepened hurt that goes past the barriers of his skin.

As soon as he let out the breath he was holding, did you move your fingers again.

The trust he had in you, to touch him so casually made your eyes burn.

When you got hurt, to the smallest of cuts, he was always adamant in first aid, taking all precautions to make sure you were fine.

It worried you how he needed to make sure he checked all the boxes before he could be rest assured, so he didn’t toss and turn as much as he usually did.

You expected as much for tonight, knowing deep in your bones he was going to come back tonight after patrol to check up on you.

But what really made your heart sting was the sloppy care he gave himself. Not giving himself the time to heal in the ways he deserved.

You leaned forward, not caring about interrupting Jason’s work, before you rested your forehead on his hair.

You could smell his shampoo as you rested your eyes, breathing as you cradled his face and leaned your head.

Curling over him like a shield.

“Sweets, it’s okay.” Jason mumbled into your shirt. Despite his reassurances, he had leaned into your warmth, resting his face into the center of your heartbeat, counting each pulse.

“I know, I just…get sad. Not at you, but at the fact I want to grab onto every single being who made you hurt and hurl them into the sketchy dumpster outside.” You rubbed your head against his, tickling your face with Jason’s hair.

“If that’s how you feel sad, I don’t wanna see you angry.” Jason rested his hand onto your waist, rubbing circles into your side.

His words were playful, but you could hear the slight strain as he listened to your protective words.

You smiled to the feel of his hand and the bundle of limbs you created with the gentle man sitting on your cold floor.

“Gotham wouldn’t be able to rest until I’m done.” You kissed Jason’s head, still gently soothing the ache of his scar with your words and hand. As he subtly shook under your touch.

A moment of silence before you felt his warm breath on your chest.

“And I’ll be right next to you.” Jason barely whispered, his grip tightening on you. Your shirt wrinkling at the desperation.

You held Jason as he tried to hide in your embrace, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at your words—the angry protectiveness you held over him.

As you rubbed soothing circles on Jason’s back, you lifted you head at the realization that the oven was still on.

“Jay, I forgot to set the timer.” You gazed at the oven.

Jason lifted his head to look up at you.

“My potatoes.” You quietly murmured. “I didn’t get battle scars for me to not get a single cooked potato.”

Jason smiled as he calmed, slightly pulling out of your embrace while letting all his emotional tension slowly wisp away at your potato conflict.

“It hasn’t been that long. Probably still needs a couple more minutes.” Jason lifted himself to kiss your cheek, to soothe your potato burdens. “I still have to wrap this, so it should be ready by then.”

You sighed into Jason’s hair again. His messy stands moving at your breath.

“I’m going to lie to Roy that I fought off an intruder and saved us both.” You laid your head on top of Jason’s as you gazed at the enemy, your oven.

“And you got a burn mark?” Jason chuckled.

“Yes, a miscalculated punch.” You sighed deeply again.

“Whatever you say sweets.” Jason kissed the top of the bandages, rubbing your skin around them and then leaving a final kiss on your forehead. “Let me get your potatoes.”

[withleeknow]

lifeline.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort kinda?, slice of life?; unedited don't look at me lol word count: 0.7k listen to 🎧: lifeline - the rose note: weeeee it's been a good few months since i last wrote a plotless baby drabble so i might be rusty. in my head this is a companion piece to happy place :) wrote this v randomly bc i was in a mood lol

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / masterlist / ko-fi

There’s a touch that Minho is familiar with, one that makes him drop whatever it is that he could be doing just to be there for you.

When your fingers dance across the back of his hand until you reach his wrist, wrapping your fingers around it so you could feel his pulse under your fingertips, he knows to take you into his arms and keep you there until you’re ready to let go.

It’s at the crack of dawn when you’ve just woken up from a bad dream, or in the middle of the dark, dark night when you’re plagued with bouts of uncertainty and your chest feels too heavy to fall asleep. Your hand tentatively traces over his pulse point, and Minho brings you closer, your legs tangled together in the sheets, his lips pressed against your forehead and his voice humming the melody of your favorite song.

It’s on the couch on a stormy evening, the room filled with the neverending patter of rain against the window, loud enough to drown out the trio of cats snoring in the background. You aren’t entirely there, your head is somewhere far away but you still absentmindedly reach for him, your thumb on the underside of his wrist. Minho lets you count the beats for a minute or so, before he pulls you into his lap, no questions asked. He tucks your face into the crook of his neck as he cards his fingers through your hair, gentle against your scalp, soothing when they rub the back of your neck.

It’s right before you both leave for a week-long trip with friends, when he’s hauling your suitcases to the front door but you tug him back by his wrist, and Minho knows that the airport can wait a few more minutes. He’s wrapping you up in his arms in an instance while yours wound around his neck, holding him flush against you as you breathe in his scent, your favorite in the whole wide world.

And it’s even when he’s putting groceries away that you come up to him from behind to hug him close. He rests his hands over yours where your fingers are securely fastened around his middle like a seatbelt, and you instantly untangle them in search of that familiar destination again. You press your forehead against the defined muscles in his back as you feel his pulse, beating steadily right under your thumb. A couple of minutes, it’s your little routine.

When Minho twists his body around in your hold to look at you, he scans your face for traces of discomfort, for any sign that you need him to ground you.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” you say with zero regard for the potatoes and onions that have been abandoned to roll around on the kitchen counter.

Then you’re guiding him down by the neck, a sense of urgency in your movement when you press your lips to his. He kisses you back just as eagerly, not wasting a single second as his hands find their rightful place on your waist.

You kiss him until you’re both breathless, until your cheeks are tinted with the rosiest shade of pink. When he opens his eyes, Minho finds you already looking up at him like you’re wonderstruck, your gaze doused in so much love that it proceeds to knock some more air out of his lungs.

“What was that for?” he manages to ask.

“Just… thank you.” You smile softly, nudging your nose against his before you press another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth for good measure. You’ve got more to say, he can tell.

The thing is, you two aren’t overly vocal about your affection for one another. He doesn’t have to tell you he loves you every hour of every day, and you don’t write him love letters like this is some kind of sappy romance novel.

What you lack in words, you make up for with actions, with an understanding that transcends the kind of love people often dream about. Whenever you search for him in your darkest moments, reaching for him and feeling his heartbeat against your fingertips like that is simply enough light to anchor you, to bring you back home, Minho knows that he’s your lifeline in every way that you are his.

And when you speak again after a brief moment, your voice gentle yet firm, he knows that it isn’t an exaggeration. He knows you mean it.

“I think you saved my life.”

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.09.2024]

[zephyrchama]

🎁🥔

Beelzebub and Mammon made their presence very well known when they entered the living room, with heads held high and chests puffed out proudly. They were a little sweaty and disheveled but strangely upbeat. Beelzebub was clearly concealing something behind his back. Mammon had his nose pointed so far up, it was almost a challenge to the Avatar of Pride's moniker.

You looked up from the couch and asked, "What's up, guys?" Feeling for all the world like a kindergarten teacher about to play a game with their students.

"We got you something," Beelzebub said with a pleasant smile. It was almost entirely drowned out by Mammon's loud boasting.

"You won't believe what I found. You're 'bout to be real grateful, so get our praise ready."

They plopped down into seats on either side of you, Beelzebub careful not to jostle the mystery in his hand.

It wasn't every day they made a big deal out of giving you something. Normally, they'd just do it. Your interest was piqued. "What is it?"

They smirked at each other. Both demons wanted to drag out the suspense, but were also too impatient to wait much longer. Still in their school uniforms, they probably rushed straight home as soon as they procured their present. After grinning for several prolonged seconds in self-satisfaction, Mammon snapped his fingers dramatically. "Show 'em, Beel!"

Beelzebub placed the gift in your lap as if it were made of the finest glass.

It was a potato.

"A human world potato," Beelzebub explained, as if there was any doubt.

"Ya don't see this in the Devildom everyday. We thought you'd like a human treat every once 'n a while."

It was green and wrinkly, with multiple spuds sprouting out the top. It looked like somebody had dropped it behind a shelf and found it months later through smell alone. It was impossible to discern if it had been washed recently or if, at this point, the slimy and moist texture was just this tuber's natural state of existence.

Two sets of eyes filled with anticipation were locked on to your face, scrutinizing its every move. They were waiting for their shower of praise. You forced an awkward smile and laughed with strained excitement. "A potato! Wow, thanks guys!"

"What are you gonna make with it?" Beelzebub was eager to know.

"I'm not sure." You gazed at the gift. You kind of wanted to fling it off your legs before your skin started crawling. Though, you couldn't insult the brothers after their hard work. It was time to start lying through your teeth. "I'm so touched. Really. That you went and got... this potato for me. I kind of want to keep it as a memento!"

Mammon waved his hand to dismiss your idea. "Nah, don't hold back! I paid a pretty hefty sum to get a hold a' this, y'know."

Your heartstrings twinged with guilt. To avoid stirring Beelzebub and his endless stomach, Mammon leaned over towards your ear. "Fry it, bake it, boil it. It's all yours," he whispered. "'Long as you're happy, yeah?"

You were not happy. Every day with these demons brought a fresh source of stress. At least you were never dull.

"Solomon once said that green vegetables are good for humans," Beelzebub revealed.

You twirled your head around so fast that you accidentally bumped Mammon in the nose and asked, "You actually took food advice from Solomon?"

"Only after Belphie confirmed it," he clarified. So they did do their research.

While that was usually true, this was an incredibly unfortunate exception. You could not bring yourself to consume the sad green potato. You needed a new idea.

"Can human plants be cultivated in the Devildom? I want to plant this, and then we'll have more potatoes we can all share." The wet sensation on your leg only grew more unpleasant and you wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible. "Let's go plant it out back and see."

The siblings began talking over one again again, saying, "My human's got a heart of gold" and "I'd like that" while squeezing you with bear hugs from either size. It jostled the potato and you feared it would start leaking more.

"Let's go, let's go!" you ushered, eager to give this old vegetable a proper burial. You could vaguely hear Mammon brag to his younger brother, "I told you this was a great idea, they're gonna be thankin' us for weeks," as you raced towards the doorway.

[spdrvyn]

MIGUEL O’HARA — and places he’d kiss you in

rewatched atsv and was hit with a very strong wave of yearning for this man that (unfortunately) doesn’t exist so now we’re here! tagging @greensagephase too as she was the one who inspired me to write this, please enjoy!! (^_^) ♡

☆ his lab, at work

like i’ve mentioned a thousand times before in my other fics and posts, miguel isn’t the biggest fan of pda. he prefers intimacy when it’s just the two of you, without the crumbling pressure of his snoopy coworkers.

that is mostly why his laboratory is one of the most secure places in headquarters. with a platform that might as well be touching the ceiling, it grants utmost privacy to him and you. he enjoys it when you visit him, whether it’s to bring food or company, the fact you go out of your busy day to come see him makes his heart swell.

he loves to shower you in kisses in those fleeting moments you’re both together, before the day ends. he presses a kiss to your hairline, and takes a whiff of your shampoo. before he moves down to your forehead, your nose, then your lips. he’ll tell you about the day he’s had, you will tell him about yours in return, and he’ll wonder how he got so lucky.

☆ the park, early mornings

i’d like to think that miguel is a morning person. when he can, he goes on brisk walks in a park nearby to wind down a little before he starts a very hectic day.

you, on more than one occasion, have chosen to join him, which miguel feels guilty for most of the time. mainly because he thinks you need sleep, as adorable as you look when you’re tired. he notices how sluggish you can be when you join him, which is why neither of you give that big of an effort to make conversation. not like it makes the moment any less meaningful.

there is a way that the peeping sun reflects on you so beautifully. even with tired eyes, unkempt hair, and an “uncoordinated” outfit (according to you. but he’d be attracted to you even if you wore a potato sack), every inch of you from head to toe looks like it came straight out of a renaissance painting.

he will pull you behind a tree, pepper kisses to your cheeks, before kissing you senseless on the lips. he holds your face in his warm palms like a prized jewel, and each kiss feels slower than the next. his breath is hot against your mouth as he pauses before he leans in for one after the other.

☆ at a restaurant, dinner time

on date nights, it really depends on how both of you are feeling on where the location is. maybe, it feels nice to doll up and look nice, but if it’s too much effort, somewhere casual and near-by is sufficient enough for you and him.

either way, those nights are the ones where miguel’s romance levels are reaching through the roof. he simply can’t stop and won’t stop looking at you, and how stunning you are. he doesn’t know how you always manage to keep him relaxed, because even he knows about how high-strung he can get, but he always gets so eerily calm when you’re around.

while you’re in the restaurant, he will subtly hold your hand under the table. on the rare occasion, he’ll break his ‘little to no PDA’ rule, he will press kisses along the inside of your hand to your knuckles. he does try to be discreet, but the way you get so flustered by his boldness eggs him on.

☆ bonus: at home

when miguel comes back home, a lot of the time he lets his actions speak for how he feels.

normally, if you’re doing something when he returns, he embraces you from behind, lets out a huge sigh of relief, and clings to your back like a koala until you are both seated. if you’re on the bed or couch, reading a book or watching something on the tv, he collapses on top of you and puffs all the air out from your chest.

he will kiss you on your neck, or when he’s really tired, just leave his lips there. he’ll lay on your chest and kiss you there also, while leaving a trail down to your stomach.

i'm still so not over him. sorry to my cousin's friends who apparently read some of my stuff, i am not normal about this old man

[togrowoldinv]

Red Hot Halloween

Firefighter!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Halloween comes, you dress up for Natasha

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (N and R receiving), the heat that always comes with firefighter Nat

Note: Welcome to the triumphant return of firefighter Natasha! I have dearly missed writing for her. Enjoy this and check out other firefighter Nat installments here!

“So..” you begin, glancing over at your girlfriend to see if she is listening.  

“Are you about to ask me to do something I don’t want to do?” Natasha asks.  

“I’m actually not sure,” you reply.  

Natasha sits upright on the couch and pauses the show you were watching together. You’ve been dating for almost a year now. It's been pure bliss with the woman you love.  

“What’s up, sweetheart?” She asks softly. Any annoyed, even fake annoyed, tone from earlier is gone.  

She takes your face in her hand softly. You hold her wrist, careful to avoid the small burn she got on her wrist from work.  

“Well, Halloween is coming up,” you say. She nods along. “And I was thinking about what to dress up as.”  

“Okay.”  

“And I thought, well, maybe I’d wear something for you.”  

Her brow raises. “For me?”  

“Well, yeah. I assumed we would be staying in anyways, so I might as well wear something you’ll enjoy.”  

“We don’t have to stay in,” Nat says. “I think Danvers is having a party that we could go to.” 

“Yeah? That might be fun,” you say. Nat smiles.  

“What is it that you wanted to ask me that you’re so nervous about?” She circles back to the topic at hand. But her phone rings and she is called into work. “I’m sorry, babe. I’ll call you later?”  

“Sure,” you say.  

You let her kiss you deeply before she grabs her stuff and leaves in a flash. After a couple of hours, you decide to take her dinner at the firehouse. When you arrive, Peter is manning the front desk. 

“Y/n! Good to see you!” He says. “Nat isn’t back yet, but a few of the others are around.”  

“Thanks, Pete. How are things?”  

“Pretty good. Me and MJ are doing well,” he says, not able to hold back a grin.  

“I love that for you,” you say sincerely. You see Carol walking down the hall and excuse yourself to talk to her. “I’ll say bye before I leave.”

“You better!” Peter calls after you.  

Carol hears the end of yours and Peter’s exchange and turns around to meet you.  

“Hey y/n,” she says. Her coolness oozes off her easily. You wonder if she ever gets frazzled. “Natasha isn’t back yet.”   

“So I’ve heard, but I’m actually here to talk to you.”  

“Oh? Come into my office then.”  

You follow her to the small, but comfortable office. She leans against her desk with her arms crossed. You suddenly feel silly for what you’re about to ask her.  

“What’s up?” She asks. “You look nervous.”  

“I am a little,” you reply. “Because I’m about to ask you something that is probably incredibly stupid.”  

“I doubt that, but try me,” Carol says.  

“Halloween is next week,” you begin. “And I was thinking about what to dress up as for Natasha.”  

Carol's eyes narrow. She is wondering where you’re going with this.  

“I thought, maybe, that I could be a firefighter for her,” you spill the words out quickly.  

“A firefighter,” Carol repeats. You fear she will make fun of the idea, but she smirks. “Nat would be into that. Especially if you wore her gear.”  

“You think so?”  

“Yeah, why are you so nervous about that?” Carol asks. She moves to sit in her desk chair.  

“Well, I don’t know. I really love her, and I don’t want that to change.”  

“Oh, y/n, Natasha is hopelessly in love with you. You could wear a potato sack and she’d be on her knees for you,” Carol jokes, but you know it’s true. “So, you want me to get you some gear?”  

“If you could. I was going to ask her, but-”  

“No, you should surprise her with this. Are you coming to my party?”

“I think so.”  

“Good. Let’s get you that gear before Nat gets back.”  

Before you know it, it’s Halloween night. Natasha has been working all day, so she tells you she will meet you at Carol’s place. You put on her gear, including a jacket with Romanoff written on the back. You really hope she will like your costume.  

You're taking a last look at yourself in your car when Natasha knocks on your window.  

“Shit, you scared me!” You say as you open the door.  

“What are you wearing?” Natasha asks as you get out of the car.  

You smile shyly as she takes you in. “I figured I’d be my favorite hero.”

“Wow,” Nat replies. “This is...”  

“Silly?”  

“Amazing.”  

“Really?”  

“Fuck yes,” Natasha says. You can’t help but laugh.  

She moves closer to you and pins you against the door of your car.  

“The only thing better than seeing you in this will be taking it all off of you later,” Natasha says. She kisses you hard until you can hardly breathe, letting her hands roam all over your body. “Let’s go inside.”  

You turn to lock your door and Nat realizes it’s not only gear but it’s her gear.  

“Y/n Romanoff, it does have a good ring to it,” Natasha says.  

You blush and take Nat’s hand. Walking into the party, you definitely turn some heads. Valkryie’s jaw is practically on the ground at the sight of you and Steve gives you a shy thumbs up.  

“I’ll get us a drink,” Natasha says. She moves toward the kitchen and you find Carol in the living room.  

“Well, you pull off the gear well,” Carol says. She pulls you into a hug. She is definitely more affectionate with some alcohol in her.  

“Thank you for your help with it.” 

“Anytime,” she replies.  

Just then a tall, gorgeous woman walks up to her. She wraps an arm around Carol’s waist and you see the blush spreading across her cheeks. So that’s proof Carol gets flustered.  

“Hey, I'm Maria,” the woman introduces herself to you.  

“Y/n,” you reply.  

“And I’m Natasha,” your favorite person shows back up beside you. “You must be Carol’s girlfriend.” 

“What do you think, Danvers? Am I your girlfriend?” Maria asks. Carol grins.  

“Definitely,” Carol says practically with cartoon hearts floating around her head.  

You and Nat smile at the sight before being pulled away by more friends. After a few hours and a few drinks, Natasha pulls you aside from the group to the guest bedroom.  

“Should we be in here?” You ask.  

“Do you think Carol isn’t in her bedroom with Maria? It’s fine, y/n.”  

You nod and let Nat pull you further into the room to sit on the bed together. You'd go anywhere with her.  

“This really was a wonderful surprise,” she says. “I love you.”  

“I love you too, Natasha,” you reply. “I wasn’t sure I could pull this off.”  

“You definitely pull it off, baby.” She stands and you spread your legs for her to stand between them. “And I want all of this off.”  

Her hands move slowly across the material of the jacket to slip it off your shoulders. She leaves the suspenders on as she lifts the classic tank top she always wears over your head. 

“Beautiful,” she mumbles as she sees your bare chest with only the suspenders covering inches of your skin. She leans down and kisses you hungrily.  

“Natasha, I need you.”  

“I know, baby,” she whispers against your lips.  

She takes her time kissing down your chest and letting her lips land just above the waistline of your pants. Her pants, actually. Your hips move involuntarily as she undoes the pants and pulls them down your legs along with your underwear.  

“All for me, hmm.”  

“All for you, Natasha.”  

Natasha smirks deviously before licking a long stripe against your folds. You shake under her touch. Her hands grip the backs of your thighs tightly as she continues to lick against you. She finds your clit with natural practice and you’re a goner.  

It doesn’t take long at all for you to fall apart under her tongue. She knows you and your body so well.  

“God, Natasha,” you mumble as you come hard for her.  

“So perfect for me,” she says.  

You pull at her shoulders and she gets the message to stand up. Sinking to the floor, you unzip her pants and pull them down her legs. Nat moves closer and positions herself right on your mouth.  

“Fuck, y/n, I want to ride your face,” Natasha says.  

“Please,” you whimper.  

Your bodies collide and you lick and suck at her as she moves her hips rapidly. She pulls at the back of your hair. The room is filled with moans of pleasure from both of you.  

“I’m close,” Natasha says.  

“Come for me, Natasha,” you say against her. 

That’s all it takes for her to fall apart. You bring her down from her high and she sits on the floor with you.  

“You should dress up like this more often,” Nat jokes.  

You chuckle. “Happy Halloween, baby.”  

“Happy Halloween, sweetheart,” Natasha replies.  

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Eighteen

Eddie looks up, towards the front of the house, “car.”

It’s a good count of five before Steve hears a car pulling up onto the drive, “do you want to get it? Surprise Robin?”

Eddie just shakes his head, suddenly shy. Steve remembers how loudly she had shrieked over the phone, “yeah, that’s fair.”

Steve waits until the bell is rung, and Eddie does come and stand in the hallway, half hidden in the lounge doorway, watching as Steve gets the door. Just as he’s opening it he realizes just how uncharacteristically polite she’s being; normally Robin just barges in.

He gets his answer a second later; it’s not just Robin.

She does cross the threshold first, hugging Steve and then clearly spotting Eddie, Steve grabs her, “do not be loud.”

“Okay, okay,” and she goes in.

Joyce is next, carrying a big pot with a lid, she leans over to kiss Steve’s cheek, Jon and Nancy follow, both equally laden down, Nancy holding what looks like a cobbler in a large dish, with a grocery bag hanging precariously from each wrist, “we didn’t have many left overs, so mom put together a quick dessert, it’s only canned filling, hope that’s okay.”

“That’s...so great of you Nancy, she didn’t need to-”

“Hush, Steve,” and she goes in, Hopper, Will and El bringing up the rear. Everyone has their hands full.

“Okay, lets move along, we need to get all this warmed up,” Joyce says to clear the blockage of Eddie gawkers in the hall. Steve watches as Eddie nods at people, looking on curiously, as they all move past.

“Jon, bring through the kitchen chairs honey!”

Joyce has completely commandeered Steve house, and he’s totally okay with it. Jon and Hopper move the chairs so there’s enough seating around the dining table. They might be elbow to elbow, but Steve wouldn’t really have it any other way.

“We brought what we had honey,” Joyce tells Steve, passing him a bowl with a cucumber, a lettuce and some apples in it, “I didn’t want him to feel left out.”

Steve’s heart melts, “he actually might try a meal.”

Joyce absolutely lights up, and she takes the bowl back, setting it on the kitchen counter, “then lets get him a Christmas dinner. Can you deal with the roast please Hop, I’m bringing the rest out now,” and like a sergeant major directing her troops, Joyce calls on people to fetch and carry as she plates things up, “El honey, take all the cutlery please. Will, jugs of juice, thank you.”

Steve just smiles and watches it happen, “better be a beer in it for me,” Hopper grumbles from behind Steve.

Eddie’s been half watching from doorways, occasionally retreating to the couch and then coming back again, but he seems to be drawn by the smell of all the food. “Come on, come and sit at the table.”

“Table,” Eddie repeats, following as Steve leads him by the hand into the dining room.

Eddie sits, and Steve sits next to him.

“Well, Merry First Ever Christmas,” Joyce says to Eddie, before she’s distracted again, “Will, vegetables please.” Will huffs over his plate of meat and potatoes.

“What do you want baby?” Steve whispers to Eddie while everyone helps themselves.

Eddie shrugs a little helplessly in the face of the spread Joyce has put on. Steve smiles reassuringly, giving his thigh a squeeze before he makes him a plate with a little of everything. While he’s occupied, Steve is vaguely aware of El saying, “I love your hat.”

“Eddidie hat?” Eddie replies, “thank you, El.”

Eddie likes meat. He also still really likes his vegetables; he just likes them hot.

Once everyone’s eating the conversation dies down, Eddie uses a combination of claws and his fork to eat, and Steve doesn’t think he’s doing too badly for his first proper sit down meal, when Joyce asks, “Eddie, do you like the food?”

Eddie nods, “good good. Many good.”

Joyce smiles, “and how are you finding having legs?”

“Good, not different Stee.” Joyce seems to get the drift of what Eddie kind of means. This clearly gives Eddie an idea though, turning to Steve he asks, “Eddidie work? One dollar bill gro-ser-ees.”

“Uhm,” Steve chuckles, “maybe. Need to work on a few things first. Maybe.”

“Eddidie car?” And Eddie mimes turning the steering wheel back and forth.

“Need a license first,” Hopper interjects from the other end of the table.

“License first?”

“A drivers license,” Steve clarifies, or tries too, “so you can drive the car.”

“He’s going to need a birth certificate and all that,” Nancy adds.

Joyce elbows Hopper, “I’m sure Hop could help there.”

“Yeah, like I don’t have enough-” Joyce elbows him again, “yeah, okay. Watch it woman, your elbows are like knives.”

“Eddie,” El starts in, “your birth certificate is important, you can choose where you were born.”

“That’s not actually how it works for the rest of us,” Will whispers to her, smiling.

“I got to choose,” she tells him, “I chose Hawkins.”

“Eddidie born?”

El nods, “where you’re from.”

“The Upside Down,” Eddie announces with some confidence, raising a round of, maybe slightly weirded out, chuckles from around the table.

El shakes her head, “no, where are you from now?”

Eddie nods, grasping that part, “Hawkins Indiana. Pool,” and Eddie points, back through the house at the yard, just to clarify. Steve hides his laughter behind his hand.

“Might want to loose the ‘pool’ part,” Hopper adds, helpfully.

“No no,” Jon suggests, “if you make him like, from another country, it’ll explain the language barrier.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Joyce muses, “where would you suggest?”

“Well, there’s only one obvious place, right? Fin-land.”

Everyone groans, and John gets balled up napkins thrown at him.

“In all seriousness kid, going to need a full name and date of birth,” Hopper tells them.

“Oh! Christmas Eve! That would be a lovely birthday for Eddie,” Joyce tells him, excited.

Hopper hums, “uh hu, what year? And a surname, write it all down for me kid.”

“Obviously Harrington,” Steve says before he can really think about it.

Hoppers eyebrows are in his hairline, “so...brothers?”

Robin nearly chokes on her drink.

“Okay, time for gifts, and then dessert after,” Joyce says as she shoos everyone into the lounge, “the boys can do the dishes later.”

Jon and Hop share a look, and Steve knows instantly it’s a look they’ve shared quite a few times.

Everyone spreads around in the lounge, El putting on the Christmas tree lights with a little frown of concentration.

“Okay, me first,” Joyce says, getting up, and she gives Steve and Eddie a wrapped gift each.

“Joyce, you don’t have to, I didn’t get chance to-”

“Don’t worry about any of that honey,” she waves him away, sipping her drink, “just open them.”

Eddie looks perplexed by the thing he’s been handed, just turning it over and over in his hands, “here, watch,” Steve says, and carefully tears into the paper on his own gift.

Eddie seems to be delighted by this turn of events, and uses his claws to easily tear into the paper.

Matching knitted material unfurls onto both of their laps, Steve unfolding his to find a red and green knitted sweater; clearly home made by Joyce.

Eddie holds his up, “sweater? Gift?”

“Yeah, look,” Steve holds up his own.

They are a little different; while the sleeves of Eddie’s are the same as Steve’s, the middle is a hell of a lot shorter, and it takes a second for Steve to realize why; it would stop it from dragging on the ground.

“Stee Eddidie not different!” Eddie says, all excited, just as Steve looses his battle and starts to cry.

A little less than twenty four hours ago, the deepest parts of Steve were convinced that Eddie was dead in his pool. Before that, days of...of torture, knowing that Eddie could very well be dying in the black water. The sleepless nights. The slow erosion of Steve’s hope, and the guilt that came with it, all seem to hit Steve all at once.

Eddie could have died, and now they’re here, sitting on the couch together, holding matching Christmas sweaters. They got insanely lucky.

Steve’s tears come harder, and a sob escapes him, “sorry,” he chokes out, excusing himself and heading into the kitchen.

“Stee?” Eddie creeps in quietly after him.

“Hey, I’m okay.”

Eddie frowns, following Steve across to where he’s leaning against the counter, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve, “no.”

It does make Steve laugh a little through his tears, and he lets Eddie carefully wipe his face before he licks the moisture off his fingers, “called?”

“Tears. I’m crying. I got upset.”

“Stee ow? Tell Eddidie.”

Steve swallows thickly, but his tears abate in the face of Eddie’s clear concern, “when you were in the pool...I had to wait. Days. And I was...so frightened. Scared. That you were dead.”

“Eddidie not dead.”

“No,” Steve huffs, “I know that now,” and he wraps his arms more firmly around Eddie’s middle, “I missed you.”

“Called missed?”

“I was sad, Steve ow, Eddie wasn’t here. You were gone. In the pool.”

“Eddidie no missed Steve. Sorry. Eddidie…” he taps the side of his head, the bobble wobbling as he cocks his head in thought, “no TV. TV inied. Together now. Many tomorrow.”

“All tomorrow?” Steve asks hopefully.

Eddie nods, his bobble rocking back and forth furiously.

And then he leans forward the scant inches between them, and kisses Steve. It’s slow, gentle. A soft brush of lips before Eddie shifts on a sigh. The gentlest, barely there sucking of Steve’s bottom lip; the softest of scratching claws against the back of his head, Eddie’s hand sliding into his hair.

“Oh!” Eddie pulls apart, but not away. If anything he instinctively holds Steve tighter, “I’m...I’m sorry,” Nancy says, wide eyed from the doorway, before she backs back into the lounge.

Steve sighs, “cats out of the bag now.”

“Cat? Lion. Tiger? Called bag?”

“I’ll explain that one another time, okay?”

When they sit back down on the couch, Steve has a fuck it moment and holds Eddie’s hand. He has to keep letting go so Eddie can open his gifts, but still. It doesn’t take long for Hopper to notice, and then he says, “oh, Harrington,” in the most unhelpful way ever.

Steve looks down at their linked fingers, and it suddenly occurs to him exactly which finger it is that next to the pinky finger. Oh. Oh, well. Eddie doesn’t understand what it means...and it’s not like Steve isn’t all in anyway at this point. Not that they can even get married but...he looks up, happening to make eye contact with Robin, who has the most ‘what the fuck?’ look on her face Steve’s ever seen.

Steve eyes her back, ‘not now.’

He gets some world class shit eye in return.

All of Steve’s gifts are...standard. Fairly thoughtful, but mostly just...standard. The toiletries he likes. Some cleaning stuff for his car. Another, not home made, new sweater.

Eddie on the other hand, makes absolute bank. Notebooks, coloring books, pencils and pens. A nice case to keep all of his stationary in. A four pack of fancy beer from Hopper of all people. Plus books, granted, they’re all kids books, but they’re perfect. Steve figures Eddie isn’t that far off learning to read, he has been nailing the alphabet for a little while now.

One of Eddie’s gifts from Robin is a calendar; it’s full of pictures of month appropriate trees. Steve sees cherry blossoms and ripe apples and snow covered firs as Eddie flicks through, reading the months out loud. “That’s a whole year,” Steve tells him, once Eddie has haltingly read out, ‘December,’ “we can write important things in there.”

Eddie perks up, “Eddidie Birthday?”

“Yeah, you want Christmas Eve?”

Eddie nods, and once Steve finds the right box on the right page, Eddie uses one of his new pens to, very carefully, write his name in the box. “Birthday?”

“How to spell birthday?”

Eddie nods, “letters.”

Steve tells him, one slow letter at a time, as Eddie writes it out, showing everyone proudly once he’s done.

Eddie insists on inspecting every single gift thoroughly, and saying thank you, before tucking it all around himself on the couch, like a little dragon with his tiny hoard.

Steve sighs when Eddie unwraps a VHS of ‘Splash,’ from Jon. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“I’m hilarious,” Jon replies, deadpan.

Part twenty

[strnilolover]

.✦ ── All To Ourselves ── ✦.

♡ Bf!Matt x Gf!Reader

⚠︎ Warnings : smut - oral (m receiving), pet names (baby, love, babe, ma), sick matt, slight sub!matt honestly, fluff, aftercare?

♡ Wc : 1.5k

♡ A/N : This is based off of their new vlog where they all spent time away from each other. Where Matt is home alone and is sick (the part where he’s on the couch in nothing but his boxers) so you decide to go over and help him (in more ways than one).

You were currently on your way to your boyfriend’s house from the grocery store. Once he had texted you that he was sick and not feeling well, your nurturing instincts kicked in. Wanting to help take care of him.

Pulling into the driveway with a sigh, you put the car into park, turning off the ignition. You reached behind the passenger seat, grabbing the grocery bags full of different food items to make chicken soup, potato soup, etc. anything that could make him feel better and make sure he was getting actual food.

You climbed out of the driver door, lugging the bags out with you as you closed the door swiftly. You walked up to their garage, setting down the bags momentarily as you punched in the code to open it, picking your bags up once more.

Once you were inside the house, making your way up the stairs, you hear Matt on the couch presumably talking to the camera to document how he is with his brothers being gone. You reached the top of the stairs, watching him quietly as your eyes scanned his body. His shirt off, black boxers on display for anyone to see if they came in.

You chuckled once he set the camera down, your feet now moving you toward their kitchen to set the bags down onto the counter. His eyes were focused on you and the way you moved, your body turning to face him as you walked closer.

“Hi baby.” You whispered softly, sitting next to him on the couch as your arms engulfed him in a hug. He hummed contently, wrapping his own arms around you in return. “Hello love.” He mumbled against your chest.

You smiled softly, bringing a hand up to his head to gauge how warm he was. You hissed softly, “you’re burning up babe, why didn’t you tell me sooner when this first started?” You asked, taking his face into your hands to look at you, a disappointed frown pulling at your lips.

He shrugged his shoulders, blue eyes locked onto your own. “Didn’t want you to worry too much, I’m sure it’ll pass soon. Luckily it isn’t covid.” He sighed out, turning his face to peck the palm of your hand softly.

You just shook your head, caressing his face as he continued to litter kisses along your palm. He becomes such a baby when he’s sick, sucking up to you and just wanting to be babied. Even if he’s too stubborn to admit it himself. “Well I’m here to take care of you now, so no more doing things for yourself, m’kay?” You said sternly but soft, making him look back at you so he understood.

He nodded firmly, “yes ma’am.” He chuckled out, bringing a hand up to his forehead, saluting. You just rolled your eyes, laughing at him. “You’re such a goofball, but I love you.” You said, pulling him close to you once more.

He smiled, head burying in your chest as he coughed. You frowned once more, stroking his sweaty hair as you continued to hold him close to you.

After sitting for a few minutes with his head buried in your chest, your hand stroking his hair, he shifted. Lifting his head up to look at you, his face was flushed red, pupils dilated.

“Baby?” You questioned, looking into his eyes as you felt his hips shift against you now. Eyes widening slightly, you looked down. Now noticing the prominent bulge growing in his boxers. You looked back up, his eyes still trained on your face.

“M’sorry, can’t help it. You just look so fucking good.” He mumbled, leaning away from you to rest his head on the back of the couch, readjusting his erection in his boxers.

You sat there dumbfounded for a moment, before you smirked and slid off the couch, kneeling in front of him. “You know — I could help you with your problem if you’d like?” You say to him, your hand inching up his thigh to grab him through his boxers.

His head tipped forward, catching your burning gaze and he nodded. “Please,” he whispered, hips pushing up into your palm. “Need it s’bad.”

You chuckled, your hand grabbing the waist band. “Lift your hips for me baby.” You say, beginning to tug his boxers off his hips. He obliged, lifting his hips slightly as you tugged them down, his cock springing free. He let out a soft sigh.

You pulled them down to his mid-thighs, shuffling onto your knees higher as your hand reached out to grab him once more. Your hand was small, fitting around his cock as you gave a few experimental tugs. He whined softly, head thrown back once more as his mouth hung open.

You looked up at him through your lashes, smirking. Tugging a few more times, you lean your head forward giving his tip a small lick before lowering your head down, taking him into your warm mouth.

“Ah — fuck.” He hissed through his teeth, hand coming up to grab your hair into a ponytail. You hummed softly, bobbing your head up and down slowly as your hand fit around what you couldn’t take in your mouth.

“F-feels s’good.” He moaned, pushing your head down more. You hummed around him once more, pulling off with a ‘pop’ as your hand pumped him. “C’mon baby, no one is here to hear you — you can be as loud as you want.” You say, lowering back down once more.

Once taking him back into your mouth, bobbing your head faster, he didn’t hesitate to let the moans and small whines slip past his lips. You groaned as he pushed your head down more, starting to fuck your throat slowly. “B-baby please.. lemme’ — oh fuck.” He whined as your head moved faster, before pulling away once more.

Now it just felt like torture, speeding up just to pull away from him. You looked into his hooded eyes, slightly glossy. “You can fuck my throat baby — this is for you to feel better. Use me.” Is all you said before going back down. He groaned, nodding his head quickly as he thrusted his hips up into your awaiting mouth, moving your head to match his thrusts.

You moaned around his cock, eyes rolling back just as his did. Strings of curses left his lips as his thrusts started to become more erratic, more sloppy. You were drooling around him at this point, your spit running down your chin and onto him. He moaned at the sight of you, mouth stuffed full of him, willing to let him use you just to make himself feel better.

“God ma — g-gonna cum.. can I cum? Please?” He whimpered, breathing becoming hard as you moaned, nodding your head to give him permission. That’s all he needed before his cock swelled in your mouth, releasing his cum down your throat. A string of whines leaving his parted lips as you groaned at the taste of him.

Bobbing your head a few more times, you pulled off with another wet ‘pop’ smiling up at him as your hand tugged him a few more times, working him through his high. He hissed softly, pushing your hand away when he had enough.

He panted softly, looking down at you with tired eyes as he regained his composure. You just smiled up at him, climbing up onto the couch next to him once more as you pressed kisses all along his body on your way up, the last one landing on his lips. “You feeling okay baby? Wasn’t too much yeah?” You asked softly, hands reaching down to pull his boxers back up as you continued to press kisses to his temple.

He nodded softly, “m’okay.. was so fucking good.” He admitted, smiling at you, happily accepting the kisses you planted across his face. You nodded, pulling away as you looked at him. “I’m glad you’re okay, let me take care of you now.” You say, grabbing the blanket off the couch behind you and draping it over him as you stood up.

You grabbed the tv remote and turned on gravity falls, knowing it was one of his favorite show. You put it down, leaning back down to him. “Are you sure you’re okay baby? Wasn’t too much on you?” You asked one more time, pulling him into a small hug. He nodded, “I’m okay, wasn’t too much at all. I’m hungry now though.” He stated, and you smiled once more as you pulled away, grabbing the water bottle from the table to hand to him.

“Would you like potato soup or chicken soup?” You asked as you walked to the kitchen, reaching into the grocery bags you had brought in with you. You hear him hum, “potato please.” He said softly, and you nodded once more.

“Coming right up, love.” You say, starting to prepare the ingredients for your homemade potato soup as he just sat there on the couch, admiring you as you worked. His chest swelling with love as you were so determined to help take care of him, even though you just had in another way.

© Strnilolover

♡ A/N : Sorry if this is shit, this is my first smut thing I’ve ever actually written. Also if it seems kind of rushed, sorry lol. I hope y’all enjoy this!

[novemberheart]

{overview} You get a promising call from Simon. You get offered a job.

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, innuendoes, soapgaz

Chapter 29 <- Chapter 30 -> Chapter 31

“I have a hand that works, you know?” He half-teased. The said hand was resting against your hip, making no move to leave.

“I like doing this for you,” you replied, holding another bite of mashed potatoes in front of his face. Kyle made a face- not at you but at all the carbs that have been shoved in his face the last few days. He was able to leave the hospital yesterday, all the traveling nearly undoing all the progress he had made. He adjusted himself on the couch, a pained groan escaping him.

“Would help if you didn’t have to move all the time,” you whined, his groan making you wince.

There had been quite a few differences from when Simon was hurt. With Simon you were unattached, with Kyle you felt everything. Not physically, all the pain you felt had been self imposed from feeling bad for him. That only made you feel worse when Kyle pushed down his pain to comfort you.

“Do you want to sit out on the patio tomorrow? It’ll be sunny.” You hummed, walking back over to the kitchen to wash the dishes.

“Didn’t you just get onto me for moving?” He chuckled, trying to slyly get comfortable on the couch again.

“Yeah, but this will improve your mood,” you shot back.

“I’m alright,” he yawned, running a hand over his face. “Just need my girl,” it was so quiet you almost didn’t catch it. You smiled, bounding back over to him. You just got comfortable when your phone went off.

“Simon?” You questioned. There was a sigh on the other line. They had all only gotten a few days off at the hospital, Simon and John being shipped back out to where they were, Johnny filling in for Kyle after he helped transport him back to base.

“Pup,” he mumbled. “You being good?” He hummed.

“About as good as you,” you snickered back.

“Not what I like to hear,” he tsked back. “Your fever go away?”

“It broke this morning. Hasn’t been back since,” you explained, curling up against Kyle’s good side. The pressure and exertion of trying to heal Kyle had caused you to have a near constant fever. “I went out with Anais and Jane yesterday,” you continued.

“Talk to me,” he grumbled. You heard some adjusting on the other line. You wondered where he was. What it looked like. If it was cold or hot. You weren’t even sure if it was day or night.

“We just walked around in the rain yesterday. Vernie likes that rain. She got all wet and muddy,” you yawned. Even just knowing Simon was there made you relaxed. “Simon?”

“Yes, pup?”

“What does it look like where you are?” You questioned quietly. You expected him to shut you down, especially after his sigh.

“You wouldn’t like it, pretty girl,” he replied. “Bare and hot.”

“Is it nighttime?”

“Early morning,” he murmured. You could hear him yawn. You seemed to be relaxing him too.

“I miss you,” you mumbled.

“You’re a tough girl,” he assured. You whined against Kyle, his good hand resting on the back of your head. Why couldn’t he say he missed you? Maybe he didn’t. Yet why would he call you?

“Bye, Simon. Get some sleep,” you mumbled, hanging up.

“Don’t take it personal,” Kyle spoke. He had fallen asleep during the interaction, still filled up with pain medication. Your whine had woken him up.

“Sorry for waking you,” you soothed, cuddling under his chin. Your phone started ringing again.

“What’d I say about hanging up on your alphas?” His voice was rumbly and went straight through you. “Hmmm?” He pressed.

“Not to do it,” you mumbled back.

“I’ll be home in a week,” he told. “I’ll show you how much I miss you then.”

He hung up. Giving you no opportunity to respond. Your mouth fell open, a warm storm beginning in your lower stomach.

“Thanks Simon,” Kyle grumbled, your melted scent making the hairs on his arm stand up.

There was a soft knock at your door, making Kyle’s eyes flash open. He’s been skittish since he’s been back. You weren’t sure if it had to do with the accident, or the fact he was your only line of protection should something happen while the others were away.

“Just Anais,” you soothed, pressing a kiss against his heated forehead. You pulled yourself out of his arms, his grip on you unrelenting. Vernie followed you to the door. “We’re going to go for a walk!” You shouted, grabbing Vernie’s leash.

“I’ll be watching you!” He shouted back, making you roll your eyes. So bloody protective.

“Hey, beautiful,” you smiled opening the door.

“Hello my beautiful girls,” she cheered, a wide smile lighting up her face. She eyed both you and Vernie, the puppies teeth already digging into the toe of her shoe.

“Vernie,” you whined, pulling her away. Anais just giggled.

“Hi Kyle!” She shouted. You turned, seeing Kyle’s arm waving as far as he could reach.

“Hey, Anais,” he greeted. “You girls be safe!” He pressed.

“Dammit, no talking to strangers,” you cursed, closing the door behind you. Anais giggled, interlocking her arm with yours. Jane was waiting by the elevator. You wondered when she would stop being so shy with you. You supposed she has come a long way since you first met. You should just be satisfied that she looks happy to see you.

“We have exciting news!” Anais practically shrieked.

“Oh really?” you hummed, pressing the close elevator button.

“Remember when we entered that baking contest and won?” She questioned.

“We got third place,” Jane corrected a furrow in her thick brows.

“That’s a win to me,” Anais shot back. “Anyways the person who ran the contest, he was also one of the judges- the one with the spikey hair- anyway he's opening a small bakery just outside of base and he asked if we wanted to work there. It would only be open on the weekend, but we'd have to come in on Fridays and get some baking done,” Anais explained. Something in your stomach didn't feel right. Your cupcakes had been so good that someone wanted to hire you? You barely even placed. Maybe the two other teams rejected his offer.

“I don't know if my alphas will let me have a job,” you replied honestly. Omegas working were uncommon. You had to have an alpha sign-off on it. Omegas weren't allowed to have bank accounts either- well without alpha approval. That doesn't even include the act of convincing your alphas to let you go off base, by yourself, working for a man they've never met. It didn't seem feasible.

“Well, can you at least try?” Anais pleaded.

You suppose you could.

“It's really not even working. Just five hours for three days. Fifteen bucks an hour,” Jane added.

“Sounds like he just wants cheap labor,” you sighed. You felt bad once you saw Anais' face turn. “Sorry,” you apologized. “I’ll talk to them, okay? I promise,” you swore. The happy smile returned to her face.

It might be a good thing. Getting out of the house a bit. It would provide you with some sense of routine. You would also be able to make a bit of cash and you would be with Anais and Jane.

It might be a good thing.

“Do you think John and Simon would let me get a job?” you asked. Kyle choked on his tea.

“Why do you need that?” he questioned, wiping his mouth.

“Spending money?” you teased.

“That's what mine and Johnny’s paycheck is for,” he huffed back. He leaned down, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. “I can say without a doubt they would not let you have a job, sweetheart,” he sighed.

“You don't even know what the job is,” you whined.

“Lovie, it could be popping bubble wrap and they wouldn't let you,” he reminded. “What is it though?”

“At a bakery. It's with Anais and Jane too. Just for five hours, Friday and the weekends,” you explained.

“Fridays are Johnny's “day off” you know he’ll pitch a fit,” Kyle reminded. It wasn’t really his day off, just the days he worked the night shift so he got to spend the day with you- instead of sleeping like he should. “What would you be doing? Baking or selling?” Kyle continued.

“We’d all be doing a bit of everything,” you explained.

“So it’s a new business?”

“Yeah.”

“Off-base?” he questioned, making you chuckle nervously. This would be the final nail in the coffin.

“Yes,” you sighed.

“Might be better actually,” he sighed. Your eyes widened.

“Really?!” you gasped.

“Yeah. The clientele will be way different. Won’t be a bunch of worked-up alphas going just to please their omegas. Instead, it’ll be families with kids and people with boring office jobs.”

Why didn't you think of that?

“You think I have a shot?” you pressed, your hands resting on his good knee.

“Not saying that,” he mumbled. He winced when you saw your face scrunch. His hand rested on the back of your head. “You might though, lovie,” he soothed.

You gasped when the front lock clicked. You could hear Kyle shuffling in the living area, like he was trying to sit up. Johnny poked his head in, a happy smile on his face when he caught sight of you.

“Macky!” you shrieked, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chuckled, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs hoisting you up.

“Missed you,” he growled, his teeth playfully nipping at your jaw. He walked you both over to the couch, flopping down with you pinned under him. He purred low in his chest, your scent mixing perfectly with Kyles. The two of you must've been inseparable. Speaking of Kyle, his hand rested on the back of the Scot’s neck, sending a shiver down his spine. “How’s the patient doin’?” he smirked, pressing a kiss against the frown adoring Kyle’s face.

“Was peaceful,” he sighed, going wide-eyed as his lips got caught with Johnny’s. He quickly relaxed, his hand gripping the back of Johnny’s mohawk. They both groaned, sending a shiver down to your toes. You were broken from your trance by the sound of a quiet thud. You looked over the back of the couch, watching as John kicked off his boots. You quickly slunk down not wanting to be seen. Guilt ate away at you as soon as you did it.

You two had made up- kind of. Yet, you wondered if it was just because you were feeling so weak at the time. You dabbed at your eyes, hearing the sound of his bedroom door closing. He had made no effort to greet you. Maybe because he was so hurt you didn't even notice he was there.

Or maybe he was having second thoughts too. Maybe he was caught in a moment of weakness when he apologized to you. What if he lied to you? What if he just said all those things in the hospital to keep you from spiraling so you could focus on healing Kyle? What if he was still just using you to heal his pack?

You couldn't live like this. You pulled yourself off the couch, the heated betas finally pulling away from each other, watching with careful eyes as you approached their alphas- your alpha's door.

His heart was like stone in his chest. If it wasn't for the teeth-gritting pain in his chest he would be completely numb. You didn't even look at him and you went out of your way to hide when you saw him coming. He felt sick. That sickness grew when he opened his bedroom door his eyes immediately falling on the one thing he hoped he wouldn't see.

Your nest was gone.

There was no trace of you in his room. In the whole time he's been away you hadn't stepped foot in it. He bit back a whine, his thumbs clawed at his sore eyes.

There was a soft knock on his door. He sighed, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. He assumed it would be Johnny, checking up on him or asking if they could order a pizza.

You stared at him, a little nervous. His breath hitched, his first reaction to grip you as tight as he could and apologize profusely until you loved him again.

Did you still love him?

Could you?

Your eyes welled up at the sight of him. He was exhausted, beaten down by the world and you. You didn't want to prolong this anymore. The hurt and sadness. He had been punished enough. You forced yourself forward, your arms reaching up towards his neck.

“Alpha,” you whined. His knees felt like giving out and your mind instantly shut off when he tucked you into the safety of his arms. He shut his bedroom door with his foot, his large hands gripping onto any part of you he could reach. He pressed you against the mattress, his body covering every inch of you. He murmured against you, soft apologies, honest compliments, and assurances. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. He shook his head against your neck.

“I need my omega back, pretty girl,” He sighed. His teeth scraped against the spot he envisioned his mark going. Your heart twisted. Your hand gripped the hair at the base of his neck, pulling his face up to yours. Your placed an experimental kiss against his lips, which he deepened.

You felt complete again.

Hi friends!!!! Hope you liked this next chapter! 🧡See you in three days for Chapter 31! And let me know…….how long would it have taken you to get over the situation with John? Lots of love!