SODAPOP

You were in the storeroom of the DX when you felt his hands grab your waist and spin you around to face him.

And before you could say a word, his lips crashed into yours, tongue wanting in.

You gave in, fingers running through his hair. He pushes you up against the wall, and puts his hands up your shirt, running his hands along your body. He began to suck on your neck. You needed him bad. You reached down and undid the cinto, correia of his pants, then slipping them down with ease. He rips off your camisa and throws it across the store room. You pull off his DX shirt, as he undos the button of your jeans.

All of a sudden, your on the cold, hard floor of the storeroom, with Steve hovering over you. He runs his tongue down your stomach, until he reaches your panties.

He looks up at you and grins as he slide them off.

And lets that tongue do the work.

Soda’s Perspective

“Daddy is this flour or sugar!”

“Daddy these are burnt!”

Faith was in her high chair, making a giant mess with the Cheerios, Logan was just eating the waffles, and Grace was attempting to mix the waffle batter.

This was not working.

I was trying to make (Y/N) breakfast in cama for Mother’s dia with the kids, but we were failing miserably.

(Y/N) walks into the cozinha in her pajamas. As soon as she saw the mess we made, her eyes got wide.

I walk over to her. Grab her por the waist and give her a quick kiss. “Ok go put clothes on, we’re going out for breakfast.” She smiles. “Happy Mother’s Day, babe.”