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#fuzzy socks and fleece blanket
loveshotzz · 7 months
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My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight
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steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader
Hell N Back
summary: A flash flood warning, a week of cancelled plans, and the night Steve Harrington shows up at your front door.
wc: 5.2k
warnings: 18+ mentions of weed smoking (r), thigh riding, fingering, oral (fem receiving) and you know I can’t get enough of making Steve cum in his pants.
A/N: thank you all for your patience with this one, and thank you for reading 🥹♥️
🎃<- chapter two | mini series masterlist
It felt like it had been raining for days, the downpour never ceasing until there were flash flood warnings lighting up the bottom of your TV screen by the end of the week. You hadn’t seen Steve since Tina’s party, every plan that your group had getting canceled by the clouds that never seemed to want to leave Hawkins. 
Heavy droplets hit your window in the living room in sporadic patterns, the wind outside making the howling noise you’ve only ever heard on your favorite horror movies. The flicker of your candles dance along your walls, mixing with the warm glow of your string lights just like that night, and for once you don’t try and stop the thoughts of him that threaten to consume the rest of your evening.
Laying bundled up on the couch in a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized sweater, the black and white sci fi movie The Empire of The Ants plays on your TV while Elvira’s bubble gum sweet voice cracks lewd jokes over the B rated film. The Halloween Macabre special was your only saving grace this week, that and the thick fuzzy Jack O Lantern socks on your feet gifted from Robin.
You giggle to yourself at a joke about her boobs in particular, the half smoked joint on your coffee table makes it easy to wonder if Steve would have thought it was funny too.
Jesus Christ.
You huff a little, pulling the throw blanket closer to your chin, eyebrows furrowing in a pout. 
How did this happen? When did this happen? 
Before you have time to think too hard about it, lights flash behind your blinds dancing across the exposed glass in the opening from outside. You keep your eyes trained on it until they cut and the darkness from before takes over, shrugging it off to it being your neighbor coming home from work. Shuffling your feet under your blanket, you burrow yourself further into the cushions finally getting the level of comfort you’d been searching for since the movie started, but it only lasts a couple of minutes. Three melodic knocks rattle your front door, scaring you out of your fleece cocoon and onto your carpeted floor.
“God dammit!” You grunt, pushing yourself up and tossing the blanket on the couch, “Fucking Munson.”
It’s only when you get halfway to your door that you realize it’s definitely not Eddie or he would have let himself in with the spare. Your footsteps stop as you remember that this is actually how every single horror movie starts out. It’s almost as if whoever it is can read your mind, and a familiar voice calls out from the other side.
“It’s Steve!”
Relief floods your system, and your shoulders slump as your heart rate starts to calm, but then the realization that Steve Harrington was on the other side of your door unannounced just kicks it back up again. Especially when you look down at what you’re wearing.
“If this is weird or you have someone over, I can leave!“ He talks loud enough to be heard over the rain, but it still threatens to drown him out.
“No!” You don’t mean to yell when you answer, clearing your throat, you try to play it off when you continue, “I’m coming, sorry I’m coming!”
Taking a deep breath you pad the few extra steps to your door, straightening your shoulders before your fingers wrap around the handle. There’s a silent count to three before you actually open it. 
The sound of the rain you’d only heard muffled from behind your window grows tenfold, making you wince at the difference at just how hard it’s still coming down. A chilled mist hits your exposed skin from the wind, sending a shiver down your spine and you’re met face to face with a very wet version of the boy you were just thinking about.
“Jesus, Steve! Why didn’t you call?!” You scold, stepping aside to let him into the warmth of your apartment. Shutting the door quickly behind him, a flash of lighting illuminates half the night sky followed by a low roll of thunder.
“I know, I know.” He gives, running a hand through his soaked hair pushing it out of his face. His smile almost looks victorious when he shows you the whites of his teeth. “My power went out.”
His Hawkins Community College sweater clings to parts of his stomach and chest, the worn heather gray cotton turning dark. The water makes the blue denim on his legs even tighter than normal, sticking to him like a second skin and you have to actively stop your eyes from lingering as he drips a mess onto your floor. His white sneakers squish, completely drenched down to his socks and he still somehow looks handsome as ever.
“Robin lives like two blocks away from you.” You arch your brow, flipping your lock to stop anymore horror movie cliches from happening, only for the string lights in your living room to flicker as you do. The energy in the air is laughing at you. 
Steve’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of the rosy pink they were from the cold of the storm, and that’s when you notice the shopping bag.
“Did your power actually go out?” The corners of your mouth twitch, crossing your arms across your chest. The bottom hem of your sweater lifts higher up your thighs and Steve licks his lips, following it.
“I don’t know why I said that,” he huffs out an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “What a weird lie, right?”
“Kinda,” you giggle, eyes catching the colorful packaging of the popcorn and Red Vines inside the plastic in his hand, the knot in your stomach tightens knowing that he’s been thinking about you too.
“I just felt like if I had called I wouldn’t-“ he coughs looking anywhere but you, “I heard from Eddie that Elvira’s Halloween special was on tonight and I just thought, you know we had kinda talked about it before-“
“Do you want to get out of those clothes?” You cut him off, making his eyes snap up wide. “I mean, wow, that came out a little forward.” 
It’s your turn to laugh awkwardly.
“Eddie just leaves stuff here all the time, I clean it obviously or it’d make my place reek.” You try to explain in an attempt to break the tension and it works when you get that lopsided grin that makes you go shy. “I’m sure I’ve got some sweats and a shirt that would fit, I can throw your wet clothes in the dryer if you want?”
Steve’s shoulders relax, nodding, pushing back that loose strand that drips falling over his forehead.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
——
When Steve hands you his wet clothes through the crack of your bathroom door, it makes your brain stop working for a second. You catch a glimpse of his bare back in the mirror, littered with more moles and freckles that would make the sky hidden behind the clouds jealous. With thicker thighs than your best friend, it makes the cotton of the sweatpants that hang low on his hips stretch tight over his butt. The dark patch of chest hair that’s always just been teased comes into full view right in front of you and your throat goes dry. Why did it look so soft? 
Steve catches you staring, the tips of his ears dusting red before mumbling a mess of sorry’s shutting the door again. You shout an awkward apology of your own, soft thumps on your carpet as you hurry the wet clothes to your dryer. Silently scolding yourself to get it together, feeling the heat rise from your neck to your face, even warming your ears. God, he looked even better without a shirt on.
“You’re good, everything’s chill, you’re totally fine it’s just Steve.” You whisper under your breath, tossing the clothes into the machine with a wet plop. The last part has you rolling your own eyes at yourself, throwing in a couple of dryer sheets for good measure. 
Your nerves make you want to keep busy, so you start rummaging through the bag he brought in the kitchen. Butterflies taking flight in your rib cage when it’s everything the two of you had picked out that first night. You bite your lip to hide your smile, opening the popcorn to put in the microwave when you hear the soft click of the bathroom door opening. His feet sound heavier than yours on the carpet,and you make sure to have your back towards him when he finally enters the kitchen. Plugging in the minutes, the loud beeps of your microwave only add to the tension that hangs thick, almost suffocating you in the air.
“I mean, everything fits… I guess.” 
He breaks the silence right as the low hum kicks on and you watch the small bag start to spin on the glass plate. You collect yourself quietly before turning around, not expecting the sight you’re met with to send you into a fit of giggles. Slapping a hand over your mouth in an attempt to stop it, you take in the faded black Iron Maiden shirt you gave him. 
You realize now with him standing in front of you that it's a size too small for the King of Hawkins, probably one of Eddie’s old one’s from high school. The worn fabric fits tight over his chest, making ‘Eddie’s’ face stretch distorted over his pecs. The sleeves look ready to burst at the seams, and the bottom hem refuses to meet the top of his sweats. Revealing a little sliver of his tan skin and the beginnings of the thick happy trail you’ve shamelessly thought so much about. 
It’s the cutest you think he’s ever looked, besides that one summer he worked at Scoops Ahoy. 
“Hey! That doesn’t make me feel very good.” Steve chuckles, his cheeks becoming a permanent shade of red for the night.
“No, no, you look cute!” You try to get out, but the snort he gives you in response makes you giggle harder. “I promise, I wouldn’t lie to you!”
The way your lips twitch when you say it makes his eyes roll, but even with a shake of his head, the smile on his face gives him away. He can’t be mad, not when you just called him cute.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He runs a hand through his hair that’s already started to dry, curling in wisps behind his ears. The gold that kisses the tips shimmers in the low light of the kitchen. 
The unexpected first loud pops of the kernels stop any other words that sit on the tips of your tongues, making you both jump at the sudden outburst.
“Why don’t you go warm up on the couch, since you decided to come over for a date during the storm of the century and I’ll bring the snacks out.” You try to keep your tone as even as possible, refusing to meet his eyes after saying the ‘D’ word, busying yourself again with grabbing cups for some hot tea.
You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat from across the room in the moment of silence that follows. Not even realizing you're holding your breath until you feel the heat of his palm against the small of your back and it exhales through nervous lips. 
He smells like the rain that won’t stop pouring outside with notes of cedar from his cologne. There’s an undertone of the lilac from your dryer sheets. He’s spring in the middle of autumn, leaning in close to your ear.
“Only if I get to be the big spoon again.”
The way your cheeks push up, and your lashes flutter against the tops of them when he makes his intentions clear, he thinks he’d drive through a hurricane to get to you.
——-
When you get to the living room he’s lying where you were earlier, doing his best to get comfortable, but the size of the shirt has him pulling at the sleeves to get them to loosen up. Muttering under his breath, your giggle is what catches his attention. Big chestnut eyes look up at you, and all the annoyance on his face drains with a smile he can’t contain. 
“What? It’s literally cutting off my circulation.” He laughs sitting up, his hair now completely out of control. “You sure this is Munson’s?”
“Yes, but I’m starting to think from, like, junior year.” You try to hide your grin when his jaw drops in disbelief. 
“That explains a lot,” he scoffs 
You watch him lean forward to grab a handful of the popcorn, the fabric restricting him again, and both of you hear the faint sounds of a tear. His eyes lock with your in a dead stare making you throw your head back in a full bellied laugh. Rib cage tightening just like your chest with the realization of how much you actually like him. 
“I’m glad you’re having a good laugh, you’re lucky you’re so pretty, I’ll tell you that much.” He grumbles reaching forward for the popcorn again only this time is successful, probably due to the rip, and something shifts in the air when his words sink in. 
“Sometimes it gets me out of things.” You grin, a little shy just for him.
“I’m not surprised in the slightest.” He licks the butter off of his fingers, pink lips wrapping around the tips as he leans back into the cushions. He watches how it makes your thighs press, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk.
“Are you gonna keep hogging the couch or are you makin’ room for me?” You fake annoyance gesturing toward the way he's manspread on the cushions, doing your best to try and cover up how flustered you feel, but the way his eyes seem to light up tells you it isn’t working. 
Shifting himself back to lay on his side, he lifts the covers with raised eyebrows and the kind of shit eating grin you want to kiss off of him.
“I was just waiting to see if you were gonna stand the whole movie or not.” 
You make him snort when you roll your eyes, and he tries to play it cool when the smell of your apple blossom body wash fills his senses as you take the small space he’s made for you next to him. Swallowing hard, you leave a little bit of room between you, the nerves in your stomach starting to feel like an Olympic gymnast is competing for the gold. The heat of his breath fans against the back of your neck, his own insecurity making it come out a little shaky having you this close again. The tension breaks when he goes to wrap his arm around you and another sound of a rip hits both your ears.
“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles over your fit of giggles, his face turning a deeper shade of red that you can’t see. “I swear I’m not trying to take my clothes off but this is not working honey.”
His laugh puffs across your skin, making goosebumps rise when he shifts to sit up a little bit. Turning your head, you meet his anxious eyes over your shoulder.
“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you shirtless Harrington,” you tease, your own face heating up in memory of the view you got minutes ago in your bathroom.
“It’s not, like, going to make you uncomfortable or anything right? I swear this isn’t like a move - not that I don’t want to make a move -“ The boy looks panicked, his signature tell of running his hand through his hair coming into play.
“Steve, it’s fine, take it off” you giggle, “It’s clearly a size too small.”
He huffs out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, rosy cheeks deflating before a toothy grin spreads across his face.
“Okay, yeah, al-alright.”
You turn your attention back to the TV to give him some ‘privacy’, your heart going into overdrive when you see the fabric drop to the floor in front of you. The couch shifts under his weight as he lays back down, and for a second you think you can hear his heart over your own. Tentative hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging into your softness when he pulls you in, the warmth of his bare chest seeps through the thick fabric of your sweater and your body melts against it. You feel the way it makes him relax behind you, a stubble covered chin hooking over your shoulder while your feet tangle with his. A content hum, leaves from between his lips next to your ear, the tip of his nose nudging behind it as he snuggles closer and it feels like he’s breathing you in.
“Mmm, so what’d I miss?” His voice comes out a little sleepy, and you hate the way it makes your thighs press. You wonder if he could feel it.
“So basically this woman cons people to buy houses on this island,” you start, stuttering when you feel the tips of his fingers under your sweater that sits rucked up to your waist, “And when they get there someone had dumped human waste creating these giant ants that hate humans.”
“Oh that’s…interesting,” he tries, making you laugh and it has him smiling into the crook of your neck.
“It’s ridiculous, it’s okay, that’s why she’s making fun of it.” You grin, running your fingers down his forearm, finding his hand that's made a home on the curve of your tummy to give it a reassuring squeeze.
He takes the opportunity to keep you there, intertwining your fingers and pulling you even closer. The sound of the rain against your window gets heavier, and the roll of thunder gets louder. The flicker of your candles makes the storm raging outside seem relaxing from the inside, and you can’t believe he drove all the way over here in this, just to cuddle with you on the couch. Somehow trying to burrow yourself into him even deeper, the wiggle of your hips when you readjust makes the air shift. 
Your sleep shorts and the cotton of his sweatpants don’t hide what his jeans did. His grip on your hand tightens, and he bites his tongue to stop the moan that's begging to slip out when you do it again. His nose nudges harder behind your ear, exhaling a huff through it that makes you shiver. 
“Honey,” it comes out as more of a plea than a warning, his lips that you’ve yet to feel against your own ghosting against the sensitive spot on your neck.
The feeling of how much he wants you pressing into the small of your back is what gives you the courage to turn around in his arms, ready to finally do what you’ve wanted since the last time you found yourself here. He lets your fingers slip through his, always keeping his palm against your skin until it sits on the small of your back. Both of yours land on the dark patch of hair on his chest that's even softer than it looks, slowly sliding them up till the pads of your thumbs trace his collar bone. With your head resting on one of his arms, his other pulls your bodies flush together before his thigh finds space between your own sliding you close enough for your noses to brush.
His half lidded eyes meet yours, and your breath catches in your throat when you see how they darken. He takes his time, letting his hand roam on its way from your back, fingers tracing up your ribs before the warmth of his big palm envelopes the already heated skin on your cheek. His gaze flicks down to your parted lips, licking his own while his thumb traces the pout begging him for a kiss.
“Please,” he whispers ,not knowing he beat you to it.
The connection is soft at first, just your top lip brushing against his bottom but it’s enough to make every inch of your skin come alive. A low groan rumbling deep from his chest, vibrating against your hands. He meets your eyes one more time down the slope of his nose before he closes the distance with nothing held back anymore, kissing you in a way that makes you feel like you’ve never been kissed the right way before. It’s like he knows just how to make your toes curl when they slot together, the tip of his tongue wasting no time when you sigh giving him the opening he needs. The blunt ends of your nails dig into the warmth of his skin, leaving half crescent moons over his pecs that’ll be hidden by the thick chestnut hair that covers them.
Your tongue meets his eagerly, cedar and rain making you dizzy when the top of his thigh adds pressure to the heat between your legs. Your noses bump, teeth scraping together while his hand leaves your cheek to squeeze at your hips encouraging the small roll they start to do on their own. The mess in your underwear only gets worse letting you move against the hard muscle with ease, your fingers weaving in the soft hair at the nape of his neck when he flexes it for you. He growls low when you give the roots a gentle pull at the same time your teeth tug at his bottom lip, his self control to try and be a gentleman slipping away.
“Jesus Christ baby,” Steve gasps, the new nickname making you smile when you give him a softer kiss loving the way it makes his skin flush.
“You started it,” you whisper, watching the way his cheeks push up before he chases you for another one, which you gladly give, letting your lips linger when he hooks your leg over his hip. 
Close as close can get.
“Me?” He tuts, letting his hand slide up your thigh before squeezing at the curve of your ass, glancing down to see how you still roll against him “I don’t think so, you’ve been trying to take my clothes off since I walked through the door.”
He throws his head back with a laugh when you scoff, and you pretend to push him away only for his hold on you to tighten. His lips connect anywhere but yours as you play hard to get, trailing a wet path to your neck, teeth nipping at the spot that gets a sound from you that has him kicking up in his sweats. So he does it again, and this time he can’t stop the grind of his hips that meet yours when he gets you saying his name the same way. 
“And what do you think you’re doing now?” You try to tease but it comes out too breathy to be taken seriously, especially when he starts to suck where his teeth just grazed. 
He grins against your skin, nosing his way up your jaw before meeting your eyes again, something softening in the gold inside them that shines through the abyss. 
“You want the truth?” He asks, bringing his hand up to cup your face, the pad of his thumb tracing the small bags under your eyes with a gentle touch and all you can do is nod.
“I just want to make you feel good, god - it’s all I’ve thought about for so long. Just wanna treat you right, take things slow,” his thumb drags across your bottom lip watching the way your eyes glaze over at his words. “Take you out to nice dinners, watch all your favorite movies, hear about your day, but really what I want to do right now is make you cum on my tongue.”
“Steve,” his name comes out broken, the roll of your hips becoming more pointed, and the swelling in your chest makes you feel like you’re ready to explode.
“You want that pretty girl?” He whispers, leaning close so his lips brush against yours, his eyebrows furrowing when you grind a certain way, your clit catching his tip.
“Y-yeah,” you whimper, eyes big and pleading, turning into putty from his sweet words.
He gives you a kiss that’s more gentle than the rest, before sitting up on his haunches letting you fall into the empty space on your back. A big hand wrapping around your ankle, moving your leg out of his way so you’re spread with him in the middle. Leaning forward, his fingers curl around the elastic band of your sleep shorts, giving you one last look from under his lashes before tugging them down your thighs, throwing them on the floor with his shirt.
“Shit - baby.” He groans, running a hand through his hair when he sees the effect he really has on you. “Better than my dreams.”
All the blood rushes to your cheeks from his affection, as gentle hands run up your calves when he starts to lean forward, fingers curling under your knees to lift them over his freckled shoulders. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you start to feel shy exposed to him like this for the first time. A kaleidoscope of new feelings settles deep in your gut when his hot breath hits your core, thighs tensing that the pads of his thumbs try to soothe. 
He looks up at you, from between your legs pressing a soft kiss to the place where your hip meets your thigh, making your back arch.
“You okay?” He whispers after another kiss, only this one on the inside of your thigh.
“Yeah, just nervous,” you giggle, feeling the warmth on your cheeks with your hand. If anyone would have told you that you’d have Steve Harrington between your legs begging to taste you a year ago, you’d have laughed in their face.
“Want me to stop?” He rests his cheek right where he kissed, looking content just to be doing this.
“No.” You smirk, reaching down to run a hand through his hair that was just begging for it, pushing back the stray that falls over his forehead.
He smiles, closing his eyes leaning into your touch for a minute before he turns his head, lips meeting your soft skin where he starts a path to where you want him most. You feel his breath and it sends a shiver down your spine, the tip of his nose spreading you apart first. He applies the kind of pressure against your bundle of nerves that makes you gasp, letting his tongue follow, collecting what you’ve already given him. 
“Oh my god, Steve,” you whine, when he flattens the pink muscle doing it again, groaning loudly at the taste of you. 
“So fuckin’ sweet, god, honey,” he mumbles against your cunt, replacing his nose with his lips, sucking your clit in a greedy way that makes your eyes hit the back of your head. 
His fingers dig hard enough into the meat of your thighs, that you’re sure they’ll be bruises in the morning. The tip of his tongue tracing your entrance that flutters around him, threatening to suck him in and he can’t help himself, giving your body what it wants. Both your hands find their way to his hair, tangling your fingers in his honey colored locks searching for purchase when he starts to taste your walls, creating a steady rhythm that has you rocking against his face for more.
“Yeah, you like that?” He grunts, extending his tongue as far as it can go, drool and slick starting to drip down your thighs as he starts to lose himself in you.
“Uh-huh,” is all you manage to get out, jaw going slack at the way he feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, like he’s thought about this longer than a few weeks.
One of his hands lets go of your thigh while he starts to focus his attention back on your clit making you gasp when you feel the thickness of his finger press itself against where his tongue just was. The stretch makes you keen when he pushes one knuckle deep with ease, distracting you when he pushes the second one in as he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves.
“God - baby,” he gasps, when your walls take the third knuckle in by themselves, and it’s only then you notice the way he’s rutting against the couch in search of his own friction. 
Your head pushes back into the cushions when he curves it, hitting the spot that only you’ve ever found on your own, and it has you babbling, your hips rolling up greedily for more which he gives you when he adds a second finger.  He sets a pace that has your lashes fluttering against your cheeks after he lets you adjust to feeling so full.  
“Come on, I can feel it, you’re close huh?” He asks against your clit, making you shudder, nodding your head when he starts flicking it with a wild tongue.
“Steve, Steve, Steve,” you whine, eyes closing tight, the band inside of you going taut, your hips grinding against his face without abandon as you try to take his fingers even deeper.
The sound of his name leaving your kiss bitten lips like a prayer makes a moan rumble deep from his chest, and it vibrates against your cunt, giving you just enough extra stimulation to make it snap. Vision going white behind your eyes, your body tenses while your mouth opens in a scream that falls on deaf ears when nothing actually comes out.
“Honey, honey, honey,” he babbles, his hips stuttering while his tongue refuses to stop despite the way your body shakes. 
You murmur his name in a daze, trying to push his head away as you reach the verge of overstimulation and it takes him the third shove for him to finally listen, addicted to the way you taste. Feeling empty when he pulls his fingers out, your body betrays you trying to get them to stay.  He kisses the inside of both of your thighs, smirking against your skin when your legs twitch because of it, slowly sliding his body up the length of yours. Skin flushed, and lips shining, you’d be embarrassed if he didn’t look like he just won the lottery.
His nose nudges yours before his lips steal a kiss that you eagerly give despite feeling so spent. Your fingers finding their way back into the hair at the nape of his neck, a smile tugging up the corners of your mouth when you feel the warmth of his own release in the cotton of the sweats.
“I hope you have another pair of pants for me.” He laughs, embarrassment making the tips of his ears turn red, the warm color only deepening when you grin and you realize you have more than just a crush on Steve Harrington.
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THE MASK- J.B BARNES
Pairing: Boyfriend! Bucky x Fem! Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Request: you convince bucky that every few months, your skin starts to peel off during your period :)
Warnings: nothing much, just swearing, readers period mentioned, the rest is all super fluffy and sweet<33
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You drummed your fingers against the polished granite vanity, mindlessly gazing at yourself in the bathroom mirror. The drain from the soaker tub gurgled, the last remains of the warm water and lavender bubble bath trickling down the drain.
Bucky’s sweater hung heavy on you, the warm, fleece fabric draping down past your knees as you slid it on. Your skin felt like a baby’s bottom due to the lotion you had rubbed all over yourself, smelling of fresh linens.
It was the last day of your period, thank god- and all you could think to do to celebrate not dying was to reward yourself with a self-care day. It had been a stressful week, the hormones not helping any matters to your already stressful work life.
It had been a whirlwind of emotions, heavy flow, cramps so painful you thought they could be contractions, headaches… anything under the sun- you name it, you had it.
Bucky had been with you the whole way through, and you were beyond thankful for him and his thoughtfulness towards the matter. He had never complained, or found it gross. He just comforted you the best he could, and that was all you could ever ask for.
You thought of him now as the candle flickered in the corner, flames licking the air as you were deep in thought. You had done every self-care thing you could possibly think of, a warm bath, a candle, a good book, and some good skin care. You had even painted your nails earlier- which was saying a lot. You had never been able to make time for that.
The only thing you could think of was a face mask. You smiled, happy you had thought of such a brilliant idea. When was the last time you managed to do one? You couldn't even remember. Your skin would be very, very thankful- especially during this time of the month.
You crouched down, opening cupboards and drawers to try and find a mask. No luck. With a sigh, you grabbed your phone- background of Bucky and your kitty Alpine sleeping together on the couch peering up at you.
Dialing his number, you let it ring, though it was no longer than five seconds before you heard an answer.
“Hiya sugarplum. What can I do you for?” he asked cheerfully, and you couldn't stop the smile that blossomed across your face, and the way your toes curled in their fuzzy socks at the sound of his husky voice.
“Ohhh nothin much. Just wondering if you’re still downtown.”
“I’m meeting up with the guys in twenty minutes to grab the takeout and then we’re heading back. Did you need something honey?”
You heard a little thump from the bedroom, Alpine jumping down from his nest to trot over to you as you made your way to stretch out on the soft bed.
“Could you grab me a facemask from the drugstore? I’ll send you a picture of what it looks like.”
“Of course babe. And yes, please do because you know I’m no good with those things. Anything else?” There was a honk that sounded from his end, the sound of streetcars and bustles of people passing him by. You could bet a million dollars he was on Fifth, which was perfect since you knew there was a drugstore in that same area.
That made you feel less guilty about asking, even though he insisted that he enjoyed picking up little things for you. The dozens of flowers, stuffies and little things he had picked up on, like your favourite nail polish (when you did have the time to do them), your favourite sweets and goodies were stocked in your shared loft at all times to prove it.
“No that’s all baby. I’ll send you some money.”
“Oh hush your pretty lips. Mwah!” he kissed the phone, and before you could insist on anything, he hung up. You sighed, tossing your phone somewhere on the large bed, snuggling into a fuzzy warm blanket as Alpine joined for cuddles.
“We never can win with him can we angel? He’s so good to us.” you smiled, scratching under his chin as he purred loudly, claiming a spot beside your stomach to curl up in a ball.
“I guess we’ll just have to repay him with kisses when he gets home, won't we?”
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The night was in full swing- although that didn't mean much for tonight. It was relaxing and laid back, takeout boxes scattered on the kitchen counter, hockey game playing on the flatscreen.
Bucky had returned right as expected, not only with a face mask but with your favourite chocolate as well. You nibbled on it now as everyone sprawled out on the couch, Natasha and Wanda joining the pair of you with Sam and Steve.
You sat tangled with Bucky, slumped back against his chest, the slight tickle of the facial hair bringing you comfort as you snuggled closer to him. It was then you remembered the face mask, now sitting on your bathroom vanity. You wiggled out of his gentle embrace, through the tangles of blankets and long limbs of your friends to grab a piece of popcorn, popping it in your mouth.
“You guys wanna do a mask?” you asked the girls after the buttery goodness has been swallowed, the guys too focused on the game to notice you had even stood up.
They nodded, and the three of you made your way through the hallway with Alpine on your heels back out to the bathroom. “Ooo a peel one? I haven’t done one of these in forever.” Wanda smiled, holding the bottle in the faint golden light as she read the directions.
“Me either. That's why I asked Bucko to grab me one.” You hopped up on the counter beside the sink, letting your feet dangle and kick against the wooden drawers as Nat held your hands out, examining your nails in the light.
“He’s such a sweetheart to you. I want him next.” Natasha sighed, and you kicked her thighs gently as she laughed.
“There will be no next dummy duck. Plus, Steve has been eying you up all night. For weeks now, actually. It’s making me want to vomit.”
“Like you and Bucky don’t do that all the time. It’s like you have a bullseye on your ass. And tits. And face. That man’s seriously in love, ya know.”
You watched as Wanada smeared the clear, jelly like on her face, and you did the same. It was cool to the touch, smelling faintly of citrus, and you relaxed as the mask started to harden on your face.
“Should I peel mine off in front of the guys to freak em out?” You giggled, knowing the look on Bucky's face would be priceless. You couldn’t want to go out and show him. The girls fought to keep a straight face as the timer went off, and the three of you walked out to the main room.
It was dim enough they wouldn't be able to see the edges of the mask, and the fact it was clear helped your case even more. You sat next to Bucky, acting as nothing had changed.
“So what's the plan for tomorrow?” you asked nonchalantly, starting to slowly peel the mask from your skin. It felt like snakes skin between your fingers as you felt it slightly tugging on your pores.
“Oh, I was just thinking we could sleep in or- WHAT THE FUCK?!” Bucky gasped, frozen and place as he watched you remove the mask. Steve and Sam sat up, startled at his sudden outburst, watching you with alarm
“What? Didn’t you know that women shed their skin during the last day of their period?” you asked casually, holding back a giggle as you saw Natasha and Wanda with their hands clamped over their mouths, fighting the fit of laughter at the guys reaction.
“No?! This actually happens?” he asked, mouth agape as the “skin” sat in your palm, flaking and dried at the edges.
“Well duh.” you shrugged and you watched as his eyes flickered over to Sam’s as to say what the fuck. “Oh so you’d love me if I were a worm, but you don’t love me now that I shed skin? Thanks baby.” you remarked, tone slightly agitated despite wanting to shake him silly.
“No, no it’s not that-”
“Oh you dumbass it’s a mask! Did you really think I was a snake?” you exclaimed, swatting his arm playfully. Natasha and Wanda couldn't hold back any longer, their laughter following yours as the guys calmed down.
“Well how was I supposed to know it's a mask? It looks clear!” he guessed, making you laugh even harder. “You guys are lucky you’re cute. Cause there's nothing up there.” Wanada joked, tapping her temple.
“You guys are mean. Really fuckin mean.” Sam sighed, head slouching back against the cushions while the three of you disposed of the masks.
“You love us.” you smiled, kissing the top of his head before you swung your body over the back of the couch- back into the safety of Bucky's arms.
“I love you the most though. My beautiful little snake.” he cooed, to which you rolled your eyes.
“Only yours babe.”
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sunshinediaz · 6 months
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coax the cold right out of me | 2.6k, teen
fill for @badthingshappenbingo—exposure
“You know,” Eddie begins, running his fingers through Buck’s damp, frizzy curls, “when I booked this cabin for the weekend, I had plans for us to fuck real nasty by the fire.”   Buck laughs—an ugly, congested noise that sounds like it hurts when it gets caught in his chest—and tips his head back to meet Eddie’s gaze in the low light of the blazing fire. His big blue eyes are puffy and his cheeks are red, hot by the fire and chapped by the wind; he looks like a kid, almost, sitting on the floor and wrapped tight in a large, black fleece blanket with nothing beneath except a pair of boxers and fuzzy socks.  “Well,” Buck croaks, “we’re still by the fire, at least.”  Eddie smiles. “Mhm.” He smooths his hand across Buck’s warm cheeks and taps his chin. “And yet there’s a startling lack of fucking going on.”  “I can’t help it.”  “You could’ve actually.” He sighs and sits down behind Buck, scooting forward until he has Buck between his legs and bracketed by his thighs. It’s just as much to help Buck warm up as it is to hold him close. “I told you not to step on that log. I said, ‘Hey, Buck, don’t step on that log. It’s rotten and you’ll go straight through and fall in the water.’” He pulls the corner of the blanket down and kisses the top of Buck’s bare shoulder. “And what did you do?”  “I stepped on it,” Buck says, quietly.  “What else?”  “And fell in.”  Eddie wraps his arms around Buck, squeezing him tight. “And?” he prompts, delighting in the smell of Buck’s warm skin, a mix of eucalyptus and vanilla and mint and, faintly, rose. It’s them, a swirled mixture that makes his tummy sparkly and warm. Even the cold, half-frozen river couldn’t wash it away.  Buck drops his head back to lay on Eddie’s shoulder. “And,” he starts, put-upon and a little sour, “you had to save me.” 
read the rest on ao3
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LOML!!! rommate ethan 🤏🏻🤏🏻 with the prompts 3 and 7 pls pls
‘the heat is turned off because our landlord sucks so i slept in your bed last night and i’m realizing how much i enjoy waking up next to you’ and ‘our friends keep joking we’re a married couple and now you’ve started doing it too and would everyone please stop that because now i can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to call you mine’
since this is the last 500 celebration blurb went a little over. also you know that picture of the couple cuddling in front of the tv? that’s ethan and reader here.
pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader wc: 1.3K
masterlist
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december twentieth. the coldest day new york has gotten in its winter season as it’s blanketed in piles of white slush. a tiny two bed one bath in brooklyn, with its three occupants were currently fighting for their lives. not in a horror movie sense, more like, we’re gonna die of hypothermia, sense.
you, ethan, and chad were bundled in layers of long shirts, approximately three pairs of sweatpants each, thick fuzzy socks, a pair of mittens and blankets. the three of you were shivering to the bone, the broken heater doing nothing to fight the chilly air that was able to seep through the cracks. the only way to possibly get a few minutes of heat back into your skin would be standing under running hot water, but it wasn’t worth running up the water bill.
“man this is so fucked up. should not be paying twelve hundred for this shithole.” chad’s teeth clinked together on every other word. shuffling in his spot like a child as he pull this fleece blanket tighter.
you and ethan were cuddled, sorry, huddled close on the couch while sharing blanket number five together. “very convenient how mr. kurch is out of town. and seemingly doesn’t have his phone.” a grumbled complaint with actual puffs of air leaving your chapped lips. ethan pulled you closer with his left arm around your waist and kept it there as you sat thigh to thigh.
“you know what,” chad pushed himself from the pink beanbag on the floor and threw his blankets down, “i’m heading over to sam and tara’s. for sure they got heat, my dick is shriveling into my body.”
“ew.” “gross, chad.” you and ethan groaned at his crude language.
“oh grow up mr and mrs landry. pretty sure ethan is feeling the same, but keeping it to himself since you're here.” and then chad left the two of you as he went down the hall to his room.
eyes turning to ethan as he kept his eyes forward and mouth tight. his cheeks rosy and you knew it was mostly due to the weather, but you had to ask out of curiosity. “you feel the same? …dick shriveling-“ “please don’t say that…. but yes.” ethan shuddered.
“…my nipples are rock hard.” “oh my god.” both your chest bursting with intoxicating giggles at the odd choice of topic. eyes closed with cheeks pushing up, neither of you spotted chad until he spoke up.
“i’ll leave you two lovebirds to the nest. little house play while i’m gone.” and before you could object to chad’s claims he turned on his heel and pointed a strong finger at ethan, “no sex in my bed. i swear if i find out, hell will rain upon this home.” and he ended his one sided conversation with the door shutting close behind him, duffle bag in tow.
the apartment instantly felt one hundred degrees with chad’s words settling in the air. but ethan didn’t seem bothered, in fact he grabbed you tight around the waist and pulled you into his lap. you sat sideways with your right side leaning into his chest and your head sat on his shoulder while he leaned his into your temple.
“been waiting to hold you closer, but knew chad was gonna be annoying. now we’re sharing body heat.” “i don’t think we have much body heat left.” but you snuggled in closer.
ethan’s covered hands rubbed up and down on your arm and thigh, it caused you to shiver even more. “wanna watch a movie in my bed?” ethan’s words kissed over your skin with his low voice.
“what movie?” not caring about the movie, but wanting a bit more convincing. you really wanted to lay in ethan’s bed though.
he sighed, “whatever you want. just want to hang with you.” and how that statement turned your insides to jelly. “wanna watch the spongebob movie?” leaning your body away to peer at ethan’s face. his muddy brown irises were bouncing around, staying a few seconds longer on your lips, before he stared directly into your soul and grinned.
“are you gonna quote the movie?” an involuntary eye roll, “duh.” his smile widened and his palm gave your thigh to quick smacks, “spongebob it is.” then he leaned in to peck your jawline.
‘what the fuck’ your mind screamed in delight.
so you and ethan grabbed your blankets and shuffled to his shared room with chad. they were nice to let you have a separate room since you have to share the bathroom. ethan’s side was decorated with movie and musician posters, some collectibles and books. chad’s with football stuff and some musician posters, a computer set up for streams he does.
ethan crawled in first so he could lay against the wall then you crawled in with a small gap between your bodies, but ethan once again wrapped your waist and pulled your back to his chest. even with the layers of clothing it felt like you were skin to skin, your heart was gonna beat out your chest if he kept doing this.
“your really comfortable,” ethan laid his chin over your shoulder so he could watch the movie. his arm staying curled tight around you. “it’s the multiple shirts and jackets.” skirting around the compliment, getting overwhelmed by how overly affectionate ethan is being.
the night dwindled on, the movie reached the half hour mark, your eyes were drooping with fatigue and ethan was snoring loudly in your ear. with one blink came a second that was heavier, then a third, which ended with a fourth blink that shut your eyes tight for the night as the loud soundtrack and voice of the child’s movie became your background noise.
the next morning was still freezing. eyelashes stuck together with a nose feeling running and lips horribly cracked, the shining sun snuck between cracks in ethan’s curtains. face scrunching from the brightness you groaned in your throat before twisting in the piles of sheets and blankets so you were facing ethan’s sleepy pout.
his usual rosy plush lips turned to a light blue over night as their parted and puffs of icy air enter the space. the tip of his button nose was rudolph red and the apples of his cheeks splashed with pink over his freckles. his curls were messy and tossed every which way and you couldn’t help as your mitten covered hand played and pushed them around.
ethan took a deep inhale through his nose before pulling you close with his arms that held you like you would disappear in the night. you wouldn’t though, not if you had a say. the whole night just felt… normal. yeah, the two of you would have movie nights and be a bit touchy with each other, but the moment chad left and ethan pulled you into his lap it just felt like he was being more than friendly.
“ethan.” whispering his name. he didn’t move or make a sound, so you dropped your palm to his cheek and ran your thumb under his eye as you called his name a few more times and a little louder.
a big inhale and scrunch of his face he mumbled with a thickness to his words, “why are you waking me up early, when we get to play house? we can sleep in.”
and you were more than happy to play house. sleep in the same bed, wake up together, cook together. just being together. “do you want to continue playing house even when chad comes back?” a hushed question with a loaded meaning and answer.
ethan groaned again as he pushed his icicle face to your neck and pressed a feather light kiss to when your jawline meets the bottom of your ear. you thought you imagined the action before he spoke to your spiked pulse point, “i’ve wanted to play house two weeks after i met you.”
there was a lovesick smile taking over your face. how you can’t wait to play house in the future, but right now, “ethan, i think we should go to sam’s. my body actually hurts.”
“wanna just take a shower. together. won’t mind running up the water bill if we’re sharing.” and you could feel the smirk from his lips.
you took a few seconds before- “get up, husband. gotta make the wife happy.”
-
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exhuastedpigeon · 6 months
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November 24 - Dec 1
Welcome to my second weekly Buddie fic rec list! Here are the fics I read or reread this week that I liked the most! The lists are tagged as ‘Han’s Buddie Recs’ and 'Han's Weekly Fic Recs'
Newly Read
Batting a Buck & Change by Daisies_and_Briars / @cal-daisies-and-briars Teen || 15.5k Eddie and Chim embark on a “Dad’s night out” to watch baseball at a sports bar, and after a few too many, Eddie accidentally lets his feelings for Buck slip.
It’s Not the Roaring Dream, It’s the Silent Lightning by giselleslash/ @gigi-gigi Mature || 15.2k (or the one where Buck is married to Eddie in a coma dream and he doesn’t want to let the dream go.)
wanting was enough (for me, it was enough) by bigfootsmom/@bigfootsmom Explicit || 13.2k Eddie is back at work and everything is going great. Except he's in love with his best friend and can't have him, so things actually aren't all that great.
He's made it this far with wanting but never having Buck, so he'll be fine.
But when the offer to have a threesome with said best friend arises, Eddie can't not take it, right?
What could go wrong?
Eddie/Buck/Lucy threesome with so many Buddie feelings
the next best thing by wikiangela /@wikiangela Explicit || 9k Buck accidentally sends a nude and a spicy text to Eddie - things escalate from there.
S P I C Y !!!!
Out of Order, Still In Line by callmeewbie /@callmenewbie Explicit || 6.2k When Buck finally gets to the Clinic, the long awaited release doesn’t seem to come; cue Eddie to the rescue.
SPICY!!
i come with a softer answer by hattalove/@hattalove Teen || 5.7k in which there is a frog, and a fair, and an eddie who allows himself to accept what he deserves.
coax the cold right out of me by oklahoma/@malewifediazTeen || 2.6k “You know,” Eddie begins, running his fingers through Buck’s damp, frizzy curls, “when I booked this cabin for the weekend, I had plans for us to fuck real nasty by the fire.”
Buck laughs—an ugly, congested noise that sounds like it hurts when it gets caught in his chest—and tips his head back to meet Eddie’s gaze in the low light of the blazing fire. His big blue eyes are puffy and his cheeks are red, hot by the fire and chapped by the wind; he looks like a kid, almost, sitting on the floor and wrapped tight in a large, black fleece blanket with nothing beneath except a pair of boxers and fuzzy socks.
“Well,” Buck croaks, “we’re still by the fire, at least.”
let me cradle your body (be a safe place to rest) by thewolvesof1998/@thewolvesof1998 Gen || 1.9k What starts out as a normal 118 gathering ends with Buck sitting on Eddie's lap.
This fic is so soft, it feels like falling asleep in Eddie Diaz’s lap.
stay here honey (i don't wanna share) by HungryHungryHippo/@hippolotamus Explicit || 1.8k || Lutalia OR Natalia helps soothe Lucy after a rough shift
This fic is so hot I needed time to cool off after reading it. 
In my defence I was left unsupervised by Spotsandsocks/@spotsandsocks Mature || 1.3k Buck gets bored and decides on a new look.
Can we just say the rest with no sound by devirnis/@devirnis Gen || 1.3k It’s late by the time Eddie finally pulls up in front of his house. In the passenger seat beside him, Buck is still staring blankly out the window, showing no indication that he’s aware they’ve arrived at their destination.
He’s been like this since they left the hospital. Quiet, still. Despondent.
Rereads
let’s hear it for the boy by hattalove/@hattalove Teen || 56.2k in which eddie attends a self-empowerment group for gbtq men to supplement his therapy, and is empowered to: forgive himself, say "i'm gay" to his own reflection in the mirror, accidentally adopt an adult, make fried rice, and tell his straight best friend that he's in love with him. not necessarily in that order.
This fic is so special to me. It has one of my favourite lines from a fic of all time - “you don’t realize what the world is doing to you until long after it’s already done”. 
in the night we trust by glorious_spoon/@glorious-spoon Explicit || 29.2k Or: Eddie and Buck start sleeping together when they're all stuck at Buck's place during lockdown. It still takes them almost three years to notice that they're in love.
The Scroll of Saint Barnabas by Amiril/@runawaymarbles Mature || 15k The day of the shooting, Eddie got stuck in a time loop. But that was three months ago. He's completely fine now.
One of the most unique time loop fics I’ve read. What happens once you’re out of a time loop? How do you move forward?
WIPs
The Lost and The Found by Spotsandsocks/@spotsandsocks Mature || 28.3k || 3/10 chapters posted
Eddie Diaz was born a shifter, of the wolf variety, and he loves his life. Visiting his Abuela one summer he meets a new friend but not long after that everything in his life gets turned around and hard choices have to be made. Eddie faces his responsibilities and does what he has to do.
Shifter AU, my beloved! As of adding to my rec list, three chapters have been posted! Be sure to follow Spots so you can read snippets when she shares them!
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metalheadmickey · 6 months
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weekly tag wednesday 🎀
tagged by @deedala @gallawitchxx @energievie & @tanktopgallavich! thanks, pals 💜
💟Name: jessieeeee
#️⃣Age: 34
🗺️Location: bundled up on my couch in my living room. in my little house. in a little state in new england.
🧥Do you own a robe? Describe it. i sure do! i love it! it's really long, it's dark blue, it's ridiculously soft, and it has fleece in the sleeves and the hood.
☕️Do you have a favorite mug? Describe it. i have a lot of mugs, and a few are tied for favorite! one has a bunch of famous artists' depictions of cats, one is red and blue and handmade by someone locally and it's just really beautiful, and one was my husband's grandmother's and it has this pretty traditional polish design on it.
🧣Do you have a favorite blanket? Describe it. yes! it's big and reeeeally soft and gray and has elephants on it.
🍵Coffee or Tea? coffee!
↳🔥🧊Hot or Cold? hot!
🧦Fuzzy socks or Wool socks? seconding bee, wool socks for my cold feet/raynaud's toes! but they can't be itchy!
🧤Gloves or Mittens? mittens keep my sad raynaud's fingers warmer, but i usually wear gloves so i can use my fingers
🔥Fireplace or Campfire? both! so many good memories with both. both are so fun.
🌞🌜Sun or Moon? fuck, both! the moon is so sexy but the sun is my best friend
🍬Chocolate candy or Sugar candy? chocolate!
🥐Sweet Pastry or Savory Pastry? savory! give me a cheddar and herb scone
🎃Peppermint or Pumpkin Spice? peppermint!
🛏️Go to bed early or Wake up early? wake up early! early morning is my favorite.
🥣Cold cereal in milk or Hot oatmeal? hot oatmeal! with peanut butter and cinnamon!
🍞Potatoes or Bread? why pit two bad bitches against each other?!?!?
And Finally… 🚬Gallagher or Milkovich? aaaahhhh!!!!
tagging @howlinchickhowl @heymrspatel @whatwouldmickeydo @whatthebodygraspsnot @transmickey @rereadanon @palepinkgoat @sam-loves-seb 💚
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with-love-from-hell · 2 years
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What They Wear to Bed
Fandom: Obey Me!
Genre: Headcanons, light comedy
Characters featured: Brothers
CW: swearing, somewhat suggestive at parts, also images of folks who may be barely clothed? 
A/n: I saw something like this floating around the fandom a few months back and I had thoughts so here are my headcanons.
Side Characters version
Lucifer
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I think that Lucifer would likely wear something comfortable, and easy to move around in if he needs to get up and deal with his brother’s BS during the middle of the night. I definitely think Lucifer is someone who typically runs cold, but there’s no way his room isn’t a sauna with that god damn fireplace lol. So I think he would dress minimally in boxerbriefs, throwing on a robe if he needs to move around the house or if he’s just relaxing before bed. 
Mammon
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Lazy SOB probably doesn’t even have the energy to throw these on some nights lmao but when he thinks about it or if he needs to exit his room for some reason, this is likely what mammon would wear. Simple, comfortable, and brand-named of course. I can see him sometimes dawning a silk set if he’s feeling especially fancy, but a simple jersey material is probably his go-to. 
Levi
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Anime Pjs- his favorite are Ruri-Chan based- obviously. (bonus: he will also likely get a matching set for MC)
Satan
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Simple and practical. I also think he is the opposite of Lucifer and runs too hot, so I imagine him dawning thin shorts and a thin button-up shirt. He likely will take the shirt off halfway through the night, so the buttons make it easy to do that. 
Asmo
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If he could, he would wear lingerie, obviously. But probably got yelled at by Lucifer for having his dick too visible in the house when he leaves his room so this is his compromise. A nice silk tank and silk booty shorts. It’s also good for his skin!
Beel
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He likely doesn’t put much thought into it- just wearing boxers and a white tee is enough for him I would think. He likely is one who does a work out before bed, so I think he would probably be most comfortable in something like this after a cold shower. I also think Beel runs cold, which is why the additional tee-shirt is added. I can imagine him waking up freezing in the middle of the night because Belphie stole his blanket lol. Gotta keep them nip nops warm, folks. 
Belphie
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100% fleece or flannel pajamas with slippers or fuzzy socks. He lives for comfort and seriously, have you seen his every day clothes? literally looks like something off of the Lane Bryant sleep & lounge line lol. He probably has tons of different sets too because I don’t think this stinky boy (affectionate) does laundry all that often. 
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tanktopgallavich · 6 months
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🌟weekly game wednesday🌟
thank you to @deedala for the tag! 🥰
💟Name: ri 💜
#️⃣Age: ancient
🗺️Location: siri, play "boston" by augustana
🧥Do you own a robe? Describe it. yes, it goes with me everywhere in the winter months! it's purple and very fluffy!
☕️Do you have a favorite mug? Describe it. i have two. one is a huge one from a special trip to hershey park, pa and the other one has the characters from the nightmare before christmas on it.
🧣Do you have a favorite blanket? Describe it. it's a dark blue, fleece and has cartoon pictures of owls on it.
🍵Coffee or Tea? depends on the time of day. i love both equally ☺↳🔥🧊Hot or Cold? for coffee, always hot (i hate iced coffee!) for tea, i'd prefer hot, but iced tea is so good in the summers
🧦Fuzzy socks or Wool socks? colorful fuzzy socks with pretty designs
🧤Gloves or Mittens? gloves, i need to be able to move my fingers
🔥Fireplace or Campfire? i'll say campfire because i have a bunch of good memories hanging out around them, but i hate how the smell lingers in my hair afterwards.
🌞🌜Sun or Moon? moon
🍬Chocolate candy or Sugar candy? always chocolate
🥐Sweet Pastry or Savory Pastry? sweet pastry 😋
🎃Peppermint or Pumpkin Spice? PEPPERMINT EVERYTHING (though i do love me some pumpkin spice in october)
🛏️Go to bed early or Wake up early? wake up early because i feel so good about myself and productive
🥣Cold cereal in milk or Hot oatmeal? oatmeal
🍞Potatoes or Bread? potatoes in almost any way, shape or form 🥔
And Finally... 🚬Gallagher or Milkovich? milkovich 🖤
tagging: @juliakayyy, @francesrose3, @ian-galagher, @metalheadmickey, @sleepyfacetoughguy, @heymrspatel, @michellemisfit, @mmmichyyy, @gallawitchxx, @gardenerian, @crossmydna, @whatthebodygraspsnot, @vintagelacerosette, @thisdivorce, @too-schoolforcool, @lingy910y, @metalheadmickey, @transmickey, @suzy-queued and @such-a-barbarian
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play-rough · 3 months
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in relation to Dazai, other than certain fabrics what other sensory issues do you think he has that Chuuya has picked up on and has subtly accommodated for? things I’ve noticed is how he tries make Dazai change into soft clothes when he regresses or ensures that any regressing supplies are soft such as Fishie and don’t irritate him with sounds like the piano
a personal head cannon i have is that while Dazai likes soft socks, grippy socks aren’t something he likes because he can feel the rubber on the soles through the fabric (the baby otter does not like the the feeling at all, he will pout in discomfort and whine)
Minky fabrics and brushed cotton (the stuff they make baby blankets out of) and cotton plush velour NOT VELVET it’s not the sameeee (basically stuff animal fabrics and then soft cottons) he doesn’t like the way silk feels, and then polyesters and fleece tend to get itchy. Chuuya makes sure the sleepers are more of a fuzzy cotton instead of fleece. Dazai definitely isn’t a fan of toys that make noise by themselves, instruments are fine because you press the button and then it makes sounds, but he’s startled by harsh noises
Soft socks all the way for baby otter 🥹🦦🩷
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December 22: Bellarke, String of Lights + Only One Bed
2022 Ficmas #3
Bellamy/Clarke, Modern AU, ~1200 words
For the prompt "string of lights + only one bed"
*
At first, when the snowstorm hits, they all have a wonderful time. No one's going to brave the roads in this weather, but the apartment still has electricity and heat, and Raven and Clarke keep their fridge stocked with plenty of food. An extension of Friends-mas, that's all: they watch another Christmas movie, make another round of hot chocolate—this time, not spiked, but with the extra marshmallows that Raven finds in the back of the cupboard—and huddle together under the blankets Clarke takes down from the top linen closet shelf. Outside, a heavy deluge of thick white flakes, slashing down endlessly through the black. They keep the curtains slightly open for a glimpse of the storm.
Inside, the artificial warmth of the heater, the softness of fuzzy blankets and thick fleece socks, and Clarke's head on Bellamy's shoulder while they watch Elf. Jasper and Monty do impressions. Miller leaves for a moment to call his boyfriend, to make sure he's getting home all right, comes back with a report that Jackson's safe in a roadside motel at least, and even Murphy murmurs a low assent: "That's good." Raven is sitting on his lap, under the pretense that she has nowhere else to go. The living room's not very big but it feels soft and safe in all its details, down to the familiar lumps on the couch, or Bellamy's steady breathing, which Clarke can feel because she's left her hand resting against his chest. Her mouth still tastes of chocolate and sugar.
When it's time to go to bed, the space becomes something of a problem. For a bit, Clarke had wondered if they'd all simply fall asleep on the couch and the floor. She saw Miller nodding off there while the credits rolled. But then Monty mentioned wanting to brush his teeth, and Jasper started stretching and rolling his head back along his shoulders to take out the kinks. Even Bellamy sat up, pulled his arm away from her and leaned his elbows on his knees and looked around, as if wondering what he should do next. The group falls apart along fault lines.
In the end, it's decided that Jasper and Monty will take the pullout couch. Miller volunteers himself to sleep on the floor, in the sleeping bag that Raven pulls out of her closet. Murphy will, of course, be bunking with Raven in her room.
That leaves Bellamy to stay with Clarke.
She changes into her pajamas, slowly brushes her hair while she listens to the water running in the bathroom: someone, maybe more than one someone, brushing their teeth. The evening has left her sluggish and half-asleep. How little it matters, and how much all at once, that Bellamy will be sleeping with her in her bed.
She closes the curtains against the still-raging snow, lines up her slippers next to her bed for the morning, turns on her bedside lamp and turns off the overhead light. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she turns on her Christmas lights, too.
"Clarke?"
Bellamy's voice, tentatively, from the other side of the door. He raps his knuckles against it softly. "Are you asleep?"
"No—" She pads across the floorboards in her sock-feet and lets him in. "Just got a start on turning off the lights. Come in."
He looks softer than she's used to, in a t-shirt and sweatpants he borrowed from Murphy's I-swear-I-don't-live-here stash, the legs too short and the t-shirt too small across the chest, and his hair still mussed because it always looks like that now. He's grown it out so long. She can see the way it wants to curl. He approaches her bed tentatively, and she has to pull the covers all the way back and slide into her side before he clambers in. Soft but large, against the tiny blue snowflakes on her comforter, her flannel pillowcases in purples and greens. Awkward, looking down at the rough palms of his own hands.
"I like your lights," he says, as Clarke pulls the blankets up over them. She's swallowing Bellamy up in her bedclothes, trapping him—they could be kids again, for a moment—she could pull the sheets up over their heads and make them a little fort.
For a few seconds, she doesn't know what he means. Then—"Oh! Yeah, thanks."
She's strung red and green Christmas lights from her ceiling, ringing them around the room. They blink slowly in the darkness. She tilts her head back to watch them, following Bellamy's gaze, and after a moment, she hears the light click of the bedside lamp shutting off. Nothing left now but the string of holiday colors. Slowly shading off and then back on.
"They're festive," Bellamy says, and then before she can answer—more small talk only; her voice, she's sure, would be as distracted and as distant as his sounds—he adds, "Are you sure it's okay, me staying with you?"
"Well I'm not going to send you out in the storm," she says. "And I don't think you'll fit in Miller's sleeping bag. And I know you don’t want to get between Murphy and Raven. And—"
"That's not what I meant."
He reaches out and grabs for her hand in the dark. She feels his broad palm wrapped around her fingers, crushing them together, as if he were searching for anchor. Asking a question he can’t ask.
"Yeah," she breathes, into a long silence. "It's fine."
In her heart of hearts, she knows, it's more than fine. She wants to fall asleep on top of him. She wants to listen to his heartbeat with her ear against his chest, and his arm around her. She wants him to feel entitled to splay his palm over her hip.
"We're friends," she adds.
For a long moment, Bellamy doesn't answer. He lets go of her hand and settles himself down on the bed. She can hear him moving against the sheets, and when she glances down, she sees by the glow of the Christmas lights, that he's moved onto his side, facing her. The green and red cast a soft sheen against his skin. "We are friends," he agrees. Smiles a little. "This is a nice mattress. Glad I helped you haul it up three floors."
Clarke slides down beneath the blankets, turned on her side, facing him. "I'm glad you did, too," she answers, and her voice sounds far away, and the words are just something to say as she looks at Bellamy's eyelashes and meet the steady gaze of his eyes.
She asks him if he'd like her to turn off the lights, and he says that it's all right, leave them on, and after a while, she moves closer, so his arm is around her again. But this time in the privacy of her room, the gesture feels like so much more. The cold winter storm rages on beyond her window. But she's warm and at peace in the quiet and the dark, falling asleep to the sound of Bellamy's breathing, soft in the heat generated by her body wrapped around his.
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toapoet · 2 years
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the sunflower is mine (in a way)
Jaskier leans against Geralt’s shoulder, doodling hearts in the margin of Geralt’s notes. He feels his eyelids droop, but he fights it, concentrating on scrawling “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou” down the length of the page, perpendicular to his boyfriend’s clear, blocky script. Roach is dozing in the sunspot in front of him, black tail curled around her face; she is a picture of pure content.
Geralt stretches out a leg in front of him (carefully avoiding the cat) and settles the absurdly large golden fleece blanket better around Jaskier’s shoulders. He shifts his laptop onto the carpet next to him and encourages Jaskier to put his head in his lap. Jaskier sighs, sleepy and fuzzy-warm and content, and falls asleep with a kiss to his temple and Geralt stroking his hair away from his ear.
-
When he wakes a few hours later, it is not quite dark, but Geralt has not moved. The television is on, at a volume so low he almost can’t hear it. He rubs a hand across his eyes, and finds Geralt immersed in a copy of “Maurice” that had fortunately been laying nearby. Geralt’s large hand is rubbing slow circles on his back under the blanket, and his hair is in a frizzy bun. His baby hairs curl by his forehead, shining silver-white and almost opalescent in the early evening, golden hour glow coming in through their sitting room window.
A smile spreads like honey across Jaskier’s face as he stretches and immediately nestles against Geralt’s arm again. “All right, darling?” A feeling like finally standing in front of his favourite painting after waiting lifetimes to see it comes over him. Geralt is a Vermeer, caught unawares, his features soft in dappled, late afternoon sunlight. A Van Gogh swirl, just there, in his smile.
“All right.” Geralt says, fixing him with a gaze that makes him melt. Jaskier’s hand, still clutching the corner of the blanket, knuckles at Geralt’s collarbone. The books lay forgotten as they kiss, sugar-sweet and sleep-soft.
-
As the kettle boils for a mid break tea, they stand huddled in the kitchen in their socks. Geralt has the blanket around both of them, has wiggled his arms around his love and is keeping him close, as if Jaskier would ever leave. Jaskier himself is settled so his head is under Geralt’s chin, ear over his steady heartbeat, arms curled together in between the two of them. Everything has never been more perfect, so Geralt kisses him, just there, on the corner of his mouth. They are Klimt’s “The Kiss”; they are another love story one hundred years later (and yet, always, the same one).
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void-botanist · 6 months
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Happy STS, Rose! It's Cozy Season so my question is: what do your OCs do when they want to be cozy? What's their ideal cozy spot?
Greetings from a future Friday! I'll do this one for the Nicea crew.
Declan: Sitting at Teagan's kitchen table - or else one of the meeting room tables in the Nicea Shipping office - with a hot drink and watching it snow or rain outside. It's not ideal without Cady though.
Tristan: Putting on one of her many sweaters and making pie, especially any kind of pie with a lot of spices in it so that it smells extra good as it bakes.
Isabel: Reading in front of her mother's fire with some tea. She'll never admit that it's cozy, but it is.
Rodney: Going to a coffee shop, especially if he can walk there and really enjoy how much warmer it is inside.
Spinder: Coziest would be falling asleep next to Isabel while she's reading in front of the fire, especially if he's finished a hot drink first. It's unclear whether this makes the situation less cozy for her.
Cady: Nowadays this usually involves snuggling up with Bo and a fleece blanket in his bunk, but he is also very fond of those sphere chairs you sometimes find in libraries (but unfortunately not in the dome city). It's hard to be cozy without missing Declan, though.
And the honorary members:
Bo: Watching a dust storm unfold through the tiny windows of a central dome, preferably with something deep-fried in hand.
Tatya: Sitting in front of the TV with her fuzzy socks on, or else getting a corner booth in a Svando's food court.
Nicea taglist: @kahvilahuhut @kk7-rbs @outpost51 @writernopal @athenswrites
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bevanne46 · 4 months
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Did you know?
You don't need to buy expensive Quilting Fabrics from a Fabric or Quilting Store to make a quilt! Almost anything made of cloth can be made into a quilt. How do you think they made quilts back in the 1800's and during the Great Depression?
You can use:
Sheets
Pillow Cases
Blankets
Old Quilts
Tea Towels
Cloth Table Cloths
Cloth Placemats
Cloth Bags
Flour Sacks
Cloth Shower Curtains
Window Curtains
Dress Shirts
T-Shirts
Pants
Jeans
Sweats
Uniforms
Work Cloths
Sports Jerseys
Bathrobes
Pajamas
Even Fuzzy Socks!!
Fabrics can include:
Cotton
Polyester
Blends
Knits
Denim
Velvet
Fleece
Flannel
Lace
Ribbon
Pockets
Plackets
Ribbing
Patches
What have you used to make a quilt?
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thekrows-nest · 1 year
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hey winnnnn winnnnn, what is Krow's response to a Dove that has trouble sleeping or keeps getting nightmares? If you were having a nightmare would he wake you up?
Krow's opinion on a bed full of stuffies also plz or the need to have a ton of pillows and blankets, also in what position does he sleep in usually with and without dove, also does he wear pyjamas to bed or smth else, what kind of pyjamas if so? Does krow tie his hair a certain way to go to sleep? What is his night routine? I am in his walls btw/j sorry for annoying you winnnnnnnn
Krow would try to do whatever he could to help Dove sleep better, be that brewing some tea before before bed or the like. Krow himself is a fairly light sleeper and has a pretty irregular schedule, so he'll notice if Dove is having a nightmare and gently stir them awake.
"D-Dove? Y-you were having a n-nightmare. A-are you alright? D-do you want to t-tell me about it? A-ah, i-it's okay. I-I'm here. I've got you."
Lol he doesn't mind a bed with a lot of plushies and stuffies, blankets and pillows. He'd find it more cozy really. Though he'll probably move some around to make sure he can hold you close. Without Dove he usually curls up when he sleeps, conserving warmth as much as possible and nestling under the blankets. With Dove he'll be huddling and cuddling close to them. He'll either braid his hair or put it under a bonnet at night, but sometimes he's just too tired and simply flops down onto bed without doing anything, in which case in the morning (or whenever he wakes up) will comb out his hair. In the winter he'd be wearing some fleece PJ's he would have gotten on sale, with cute fuzzy socks. In summer and warmer weather, he tends to opt for just a pair of pants, sometimes wears a sorta tank top shirt.
Usually his night time routine consists of winding down from the day by listening to some music and painting or widdling something. Or he'll throw some knives or just be playing with them (like flipping around butterfly knives or throwing them up in the air and catching them). He'll have some sort of relaxing tea, go brush his teeth, carefully floss (especially around the fangs), do up his hair and get all cozy in bed before sleeping.
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🎄 Weekly Tag Wednesday 🎄
Phew, just getting this done before Wednesday switches over to Thursday!
Thanks so much to @sgtmickeyslaughter for tagging me! 🥰
Name: Rach
Age: The last of my twenties, 29!
Location: East Coast! ☃️
Do you own a robe? Describe it: I have a dark blue fleece one, but I never really wear it.
Do you have a favorite mug? Describe it: Probably my Honeydukes mug that my best friend got me! 🥰
Do you have a favorite blanket? Describe it: I just love blankets in general so picking a favorite is simply impossible!
Coffee or Tea? Coffee! But sometimes I fuck with a cold tea!
↳Hot or Cold? I usually always prefer my coffee hot! ☕️
Fuzzy socks or Wool socks? I’ve never worn wool socks, so I’m gonna have to go with fuzzy, although I don’t really care much for those either!
Gloves or Mittens? Honestly I don’t really use either, but I really should!
Fireplace or Campfire? Fireplace always!
Sun or Moon? I’m more drawn to the moon, but I do love a nice sunny day!
Chocolate candy or Sugar Candy? Dang, it really depends on my mood! I’m not a huge chocolate person though!
Sweet pastry or Savory pastry? Again, really depends on my mood! I suck at deciding!
Peppermint or Pumpkin Spice? Peppermint!
Go to bed early or Wake up early? I’d rather wake up early I think. I love to stay up as late as possible though so…
Cold cereal in milk or Hot oatmeal? Definitely cold cereal in milk!
Potatoes or Bread? Potatoes! I love them both, but potatoes are so versatile!
And finally…
Gallagher or Milkovich? Milkovich! BUT I STILL LOVE YOU IAN G!
I’m exhausted and Wednesday is about to end in *checks watch* 10 minutes, so I’m not going to tag anyone, but if anyone wants to do the tag please do! I’d love to see your answers! ♥️
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