#nesting

[omegajasontoddweek]

23rd of April: Nesting self-care Jason has had the shittiest week imaginable. Not only was there an Arkham breakout, he also argued with Bruce, and at some point in this mess he got a concussion! All he wants is to plop down in his fluffy nest but his stupid siblings keep bothering him.

[illustratus]

Le Printemps (Springtime) by Eugène Bidau

[biteofcherry]

Does mafia!Steve's Reader ever get jealous? Maybe there's a businesswoman or mafia related one that Steve has to have meetings with and reader gets jealous?

Nesting

Not an inch away

mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

warnings for the part below: some angst; soft!dark Steve Rogers; mafia!Steve Rogers; possessive behavior; arranged/forced relationship;

~ * ~

You shouldn't care. You really shouldn't, you tell yourself as you watch Steve open the restaurant door for that other woman to enter.

A woman that looks stunning in a body-clinging white dress and killer heels, not a single thing out of place in her confident persona.

She tilts her head and smiles at Steve, who reciprocates with one of his most charming smiles - one that gets you weak in the knees when he flashes it at you.

He told you he'd be home late because he has boring business meetings to attend to, so you talked your bodyguards slash enablers - Natasha and Yelena - to go to the movies and for some greasy food afterwards.

It's pure coincidence that the spot you picked for your snacking was opposite of a fancy restaurant to which Steve took this woman.

You know plenty of women have successful businesses, but you don't think a mob boss of Steve's caliber would actually do any business with one of them. In a romantic restaurant at that.

Natasha's face is perfectly impassive at the sight, but Yelena cringes as if she feels bad for you for seeing this.

You tell yourself that it shouldn't matter. This whole arrangement, one practically forced upon you after Steve found out about your pregnancy, is one you wanted out of at first, right?

The elegant, shiny ring on your finger, which you grew to love and often looked at with a fond smile, now reminded you of the cage Steve trapped you in. Gold, pretty cage.

With how intense and dotting Steve was, you actually believed the cage could become a warm house, with a faithful, loving husband.

Seemed you were going to become a cliche, instead. A wife to produce heirs to a mafia king, while he fucked around with whomever he desired.

Perhaps you should walk into the restaurant, make a scene, throw a drink in Steve's face. Throw it at that woman's white dress.

But you only clench your hands on the paper bag with takeout you bought to eat at home (your pregnancy is turning you into a bottomless pit). You straighten your back and keep your head up high as you march to the car and get inside, Natasha and Yelena slipping inside soundlessly.

Yelena tries to say something, explain Steve's actions, but you tell her you're not interested.

"I don't care." You announce as coldly as you can, quite proud that your voice doesn't crack with how hurt you feel inside.

At home you devour your food. And some chocolate muffins that you baked in the morning. Each bite as delicious as heavy, your stomach revolting with the bitter jealousy and anger at the thought of what Steve was up to.

Are they having a romantic dinner and smiling at each other across the table? Is he sliding his hand up her thigh and under her dress? Does he make her come silently in front of all the patrons?

Will he take her to a hotel room, or one of his apartments that he owns all around the city, and fuck her into a screaming mess?

Will he fuck her better than he did you last night... yanking a fistful of your hair as he wrecked you into a dripping mess and praised you, A good little wife, taking all of me so well.

Ripping apart another muffin, you decide on your next step. You know running away wouldn't work. For one, you have two guards, who may be friendly, but still were loyal to Steve and what he said triumphed over whatever you wanted.

Secondly, even if you managed to slip out, Steve would find you. And he'd drag you back into the cage and the life he builds with you beside him.

You can't leave the penthouse, but you can make yourself a safe space in one of the free guest rooms.

Since Steve's dipping his dick in other woman's cunt, he doesn't need you sleeping beside him.

You definitely don't want to touch him when he reeks of other woman's perfume. You don't even want to see him.

So after you drag most of your stuff from the main bedroom and hastily put it in the closet in your new room, you close the door. Just in time, because less than ten minutes later the echo of firm footsteps resounds.

You flip a book open, trying to focus on the printed words and not on the way your heart hammers in your chest as you hear Steve's footsteps aiming for the main bedroom.

A vicious part of you hopes that he is a shocked, seeing that you're not there.

Not in the huge bed, naked under soft covers, waiting for your husband lord and master to throw you a crumb of his attention.

The emotionally heaving part of you shudders in sobs at the image of Steve simply not minding that you're not there.

Maybe he's only a little surprised, but brushes it off and simply takes a shower to wash off the remnants of that woman's arousal and his own sweat. Then he'll get into bed and fall asleep sated, uncaring for your state as long as you obediently stayed inside.

You rub at your eyes, cursing the tears away. You shake your head and try once again to focus on the words you're reading.

But then, after a long stretch of silence, footsteps sound through the space. A creaking of door being open. Then another. Slowly moving towards where you are hidden.

Your heart rate increases, fingers trembling against the paper pages of your book.

You take a breath, willing yourself to remain calm and not show Steve how hurt you are. Play it the way mob bosses wives in movies and tv shows do it - cold and indifferent, an armor around you, so nothing can prickle you.

The door to your claimed room opens and Steve stands there in the doorway in all his stormy glory.

He frowns, seeing you sitting stiffly on the bed.

He walks inside. Sleeves of his suit jacket are pushed up, showing his forearms and twirls of tattoos. He braces his hands on his hips and gives you a look that's a combination of concern and blatant anger.

"Can you explain what's the meaning of all this?" Steve's voice is thick and raspy.

You swallow, but shrug nonchalantly as if his heated gaze isn't bothering you.

"I thought it's better to leave the main bedroom, in case you brought your companion home for the night." You say and return your gaze to the book, fighting the urge to wave him away with a dismissive gesture.

"What?" Steve's frown deepens, actual confusion showing on his face.

"I'm not sure your mistress would like seeing me there. Might ruin the mood." You lift your head and sneer at him. "So I simply made it easier for you."

"I have a mistress now?" Steve raises a single brow, remaining calm while everything inside of you was boiling.

You snap your book closed and slam in onto the bedside table. With a little huff you get off the bed and stomp over to Steve.

"No need to lie." You scoff. "I saw you. With her. Didn't know mob business meant taking beautiful women to expensive restaurants."

You push at his chest in anger, but Steve's strong, muscled body doesn't even sway at your outburst. So you push at him again, unsuccessfully, but at least you get to unleash some of your fury.

"Just do me a favor and don't bring any of your whores home once the baby is here. Stay in one of your apartments, or allow me to move into one."

You can't hold off tears anymore and as some pour out, trickling down your cheeks, you clench your hands into fists and slam them against Steve's chest.

Steve's fingers wrap around your wrists, a tight, almost painful hold that keeps your hands bound to his chest.

"You are not going away from me." He declares, a definite order.

His eyes darken, a flash of lethal danger he rarely directed at you.

"In any form." He ads, obviously meaning you switching bedrooms.

Slowly, Steve's face lightens up. Twinkles appear in his eyes and it makes another wave of annoyance surge through you.

He keeps your wrists locked in one of his hands as he uses the other hand to cup your cheek.

"Any moving you're going to do is along with me." He says and tries to lean his forehead against yours, but you pull your head back.

Steve sighs.

"Which is why," he forces you to maintain eye contact with him, "I had a meeting with Camilla. She's a real estate agent who works for me on renovating a house that I bought for us. For our family."

His words make you speechless. A house? Someplace where you'd feel more free and where your kids could run in glee.

Still, you remain suspicious. You want to assume it's just a crafty lie, you're sure Steve's good at those.

"The Infinite is a rather romantic place to talk construction." You narrow your eyes.

Steve chuckles and shakes his head. He lets go of your wrists to wrap both his arms around you, pulling you close to him despite your attempt to squirm away.

"Jealous little bird." He hums and slides one of his hands up to grip the back of your neck.

"In my line of work-" Steve leans closer, his nose tracing the line of your jaw, hot breath tickling your skin making you shiver-

"I manipulate people. Some with threats, some with sugar. And some, like Camilla, with never voiced promise of something they wish for."

Steve's soft snicker puffs across your cheek at your sneer. His lips travel toward your lips. You close your eyes at the intensity of his blue irises and the way your body reacts to the touch of his mouth against yours.

"A restaurant dinner gave her that little spark that will make her work her ass off to grand me all my wishes regarding our house. Even though not once have I even brushed an inch of her body with my fingers."

"It also happens-" the tip of Steve's tongue licks over your bottom lip, his hand starts pulling up the hem of your nightgown- "that I know how to manipulate my wife's body, so she sweats out all that jealousy and anger while she creams on my cock."

Your tiny, needy whimper makes him chuckle in dark victory.

"That what you need, huh?" He grips your buttock and kneads it. "Should I fuck you braindead every day, so that your mind doesn't come up with silly ideas?"

"It wasn't silly." You try to defend your earlier outburst, but it comes out breathy and weak.

"Thinking I could be interested in anyone else when I have your sweet, ripe body at my disposal. Absolutely ridiculous." Steve flashes you a wolfish grin.

He lifts you up suddenly, forcing your arms and legs to wrap around him. His fingers slide from your ass to dip between your thighs as he turns around and walks out of the room.

"You're coming back to our bedroom." He growls a command.

"I'm going to keep you naked and full of cum for the next few days, so it really sinks in that neither of us is stepping away from this marriage. Ever."

[huariqueje]

Nesting   - Christine Wu , 2015.

American , b, 1962 -

Oil and pencil on wood , 6 x 6 in.

[baylardian-1]

happy australian threshold day i love you all thanks for sticking with me for three years or if youre new hi i love threshold :) ill plug me and alice's threshold au blog @voyagerihardlyknowher where we put all of our threshold au content go look at it its so clean and beautiful

doodled some inspies from @jellybeansarecool's fic Nesting with Kathryn building a nest out of Chakotay's clothes and bed sheets :)

ummmmmmm some misc just lizard janeway doodle stuff and also some Janeway in Q2 getting turned into lizzy by Junior. :3 FOR FUN.

[brooklynbridgebirds]

Common Grackle gathering nesting material Brooklyn Bridge Park, Pier 1

[maureen2musings]

one breath at a time

benjhicks

[sleepingcatemojis]

nesting emotes requested by anon (link)!

feel free to use in your servers but do credit me!

[anannua]

baby's first nest

[theshadowrealmitself]

Still thinking about omegaverse stuff, anyways:

Imagine getting violently woken up in the middle of the night because an omega in your life (partner, family member, friend you were having a sleepover with, etc) had to rearrange their nest, and they’re just moving you around to the perfect spot like you’re one of their pillows

[kaigweny]

Hello friends who nest!

Whether you're kin, a regressor, or miscecanis, you might be affected by what I call the nesting season, and want to nest all the time! 🪹

So I decided to make a little post about stuff I like in my nest to maybe give some of you ideas or just some comfiness reading it, because nesting is taking up like 80% of my brain right now- 💚

My essentials are: 🪹 Blankets (the fluffier the better) 🪹 Plenty of pillows 🪹 A tons of plushies 🪹 Orange essential oil on the stuffs 🪹 A cedar or orange candle/incense 🪹 A cosy drink (like coffee with some cinnamon) 🪹 A cosy show or podcast 🪹 Some snacks! (nuts for my crow brain, sweet things for the omega cravings, and sometimes some other stuff personally)

I also like to kidnap my partner in it, but that's not always possible 🥺😞 Please feel free to add on with your nesting essentials! ☕️

Happy nesting friends! 💚🪹

[cirrus-ghoulette]

Cumulus makes a nest before she goes into heat because she's feeling instinctual.

The ghouls attempt to assist her with the nest.

Phantom has never made a nest before. He's never seen a nest before.

First, he brings in sticks and leaves from the woods, since he heard Cumulus was nesting and he immediately thought of birds and how they nest.

Then, he brought in Copia's robes. You know, the pristine ones in the display case in the locked room so that they're kept in perfect condition between tours? Yeah, those ones. Phantom decided that they look better bundled up in Cumulus' nest because they smell of Papa.

Thirdly, he brought in a jug of milk and a packet of cookies so that Lus could snack without having to leave the bed. Cumulus didn't find the bottle of milk for three days. She only found it when it started to smell.

Phantom is a bit of a pigeon when it comes to nests.

[illustratus]

Through the window by Arthur Wasse

The painting depicts jackdaws nesting in the town's church, looking out onto the Bavarian countryside. This is most likely Jakobskirche, a church on the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela, Spain.

[biteofcherry]

Fancy cozy

soft mafia!Steve Rogers x female reader

Nesting Masterlist

summary: You wanted a cozy celebration of New Year's and your husband happily provides.

warnings: none

This is pure fluff and coziness. Written for the Nesting universe as a result of this poll.

Happy New Year to you all!

Happy with the stack of food he managed to fit on the small coffee table, Steve surveyed the cozy nest he prepared for the two of you on the couch in the living room. Fluffy blankets at hand, pillows, all the remote controls. The lights were twinkling on the big Christmas tree, as well on the curtains along the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He was a confident man in general and this time Steve was quite certain he fit your request for a cushy New Year’s Eve perfectly. 

When he turned at the sound of your soft footsteps nearing, however, his confidence wobbled for a second. 

You paused mid step as you met Steve’s eyes and recognized a flash of surprise in his blue irises. It took you a moment to realize what shocked him. But as Steve’s gaze didn’t slide over you, instead roaming around your head, it dawned on you. 

You grinned, quite happy that you managed to surprise him in any way. Steve was always so sure of himself when it came to you and perceiving your needs (and truthfully, ninety nine percent of the time he was right). He predicted them, discovered them, and always remembered the smallest details. 

“What?” You shrugged when he kept staring at you and sauntered towards him with a sassy bounce to your step - so much reminiscing of the one you had when you first met Steve that one crazy weekend over a year ago.

“I said I want a cozy New Year’s Eve celebration,” you pointed at the soft, comfy pajamas you wore, “but it’s still a special occasion celebration, after all. A bit of fancy is a must.”

Hence your full-on, quite heavy makeup and jewelry shining around your neck and in your ears. 

When Steve asked what you’d like to do for New Year’s, you revealed you dreamt of just staying at home and being together. Without any fuss. Without any special preparations. There were options of some fancy parties, as well more close-knit ones (Natasha and Yelena were throwing a party); or journeys across the globe, if you wished.

As much as it tempted you to see the snowy glory of the lavish five star hotel in Karlovy Vary where Steve proposed to take you, you didn’t feel like going anywhere. Not this year, at least. 

You were mostly tired and overstimulated. Freshly after loud, full-family holiday celebrations, still learning how to be a mom of a newborn, how to juggle all these activities and responsibilities. You really just wanted some peace and quiet. 

But it didn’t mean you weren’t going to be a tiny bit fancy on New Year’s Eve. 

Even if it was a funny clashing result of styles.

Steve expected to see you in pjs, but not the smokey eye with glitter and false lashes glued on. Neither the diamonds sparkling in your ears and around your neck - both a gift from him. 

“You’re right.” Steve was always quick-witted, swiftly catching up with you. “Perhaps I should add some bling to my modest outfit, too? To make this cozy more fancy.” 

He brushed a hand across his torso, clad only in a simple white (so deliciously tight) undershirt. The few tattoos he had were almost on full display. The gray sweatpants he had on were hanging dangerously low on his hips and you thought this look was much sexier than if he was walking around in a tailored suit. 

“Nah,” you waved your hand, passing Steve and jumping onto the couch. “It’s impolite to look better than your wife.” 

“I’ll remember that,” Steve chuckled. 

He braced his hands on his hips as he watched you get comfortable. 

“Do you want anything that’s not at hand?” He asked, pointing at the coffee table. When you shook your head and grabbed a bowl of chips, he said: “I’ll check on Tommy and be right back.”

You checked on your sleeping baby boy before coming down, but there was no force nor reason that could stop Steve from doing his own check up on his son. It warmed your heart every time you witnessed Steve’s genuine love for your baby.  

Even if at times you were still silently questioning this whole marriage into which you were sort of forced, you also felt Steve’s love for you. 

Which is why it was so easy to snuggle to his side when Steve returned and took his spot on the couch right next to you. He draped one arm around you and picked the remote with his other hand. You let him flip through the channels, enjoying the simplicity of being together and watching whatever Steve was in the mood for. 

You watched one comedy, then two episodes of some new crime show. Some music channel played 80’s and 90’s hits for about forty minutes that you and Steve spent making out - slowly and softly, before settling back to watch tv. 

You dozed off for about an hour and though Steve claimed he was awake the whole time, you’re sure you heard a few snores of his through your light sleep. 

When the countdown to midnight started, you both got up. You stretched as Steve opened a bottle of alcohol-free champagne. He filled two flutes, but set them down on the table as he scurried away for a moment. He returned with shoes and coats for both of you, grinning at your questioning frown. 

“I have a little surprise,” it’s the only explanation you got as you pushed your feet into your fur-laced boots. 

Steve slid the patio door open and the two of you walked outside, champagne flutes in hands (and the baby monitor in Steve’s coat pocket). A few moments later the quiet, dark sky above the forest surrounding your estate burst with colors of sparkling fireworks. 

“Happy New Year, little wife,” Steve’s breath tickles your ear when he leans to murmur, before his mouth descends on yours. 

You didn’t feel like drinking champagne after that kiss, more interested in filling your mouth with more of Steve’s taste. But you sipped it as Steve wrapped his arms around you - your back to his chest - and you watched the fireworks show displayed in the night sky. 

[bunnie-paws]

There's this phenomenon bunnies can have called False Pregnancy. Imagine it in an a/b/o setting.

The Omega nests, at first like normal, but it becomes more extravagant. There's a little den part where they'll have their pups. The Omega refuses to stop until it's absolutely perfect.

Despite this, there's no signs of pregnancy. They aren't. Yet the Omega "knows" in their gut that they're about to have pups. They grow stressed, chewing, even biting at anyone who isn't their alpha.

Eventually, the feeling will pass, and depression can onset. Similar to post partum. It'll take some time, they'll most likely just stay in their nest and only want to be seen by their alpha and very very close friends/family.

Mother bunnies always worry for their omegas about this happening, because it's rather common. There's plenty of books on it, like picture books and such (and non for adults), and the community is pretty well aware. It's diagnosable by doctors so pack members can be excused from school, work, or other events.

Just some thoughts

[rejenta]

Nesting guide!!