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Steve is usually adamant about having his partners help him tidy up the house, but today he decided to let them be.

The shift change at work has been particularly hard on Billy. He isn’t used to working nights even months later — his time in the sun is limited now, which has him in an indefinite grumpy mood. The absolute last thing Steve would do is wake his partner up midday just to make him dust or sweep the floor.

So, he decided to leave him curled up on the couch where he found him that morning.

Eddie was still on the chore roster, until Steve went to hunt him down and found him snuggled up on the sofa as well.

He looks like he crawled halfway up before he quit, smushed between Billy and the back sofa cushions, cheek resting against the blond’s ribcage and legs bent to fit. Billy is still snoozing through all of it. Even when Eddie sneaks a hand under his hoodie.

“What’re you doing?” Steve whispers.

He has a feather duster in-hand as he crosses his arms. Eddie presses closer into Billy’s side defiantly.

“I miss him,” Eddie coos. “Plus, he’s not flexing for once, so I figured now would be the prime time to give his tummy some love.”

He pushes Billy’s hoodie up enough to expose his abdomen to the open air, and sure enough, where there are usually defined abs, there’s just the smooth expanse of his stomach. Rising and falling as he breathes.

Steve can’t help that he softens at the sight.

His arms uncross as he kneels beside the couch and sets his hand atop Eddie’s where it lies.

“That’s a pretty damn good reason to not wanna clean,” he huffs.

Eddie hums amusedly. Shifts so he can press his lips to Billy’s skin in a symphony of delicate little kisses.

The affection has the blond smiling in his sleep.

Steve decides then that cleaning can wait another day or two.

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Just saying, lovelies...

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#spotted: a smiling geralt

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We've come so far 🥺❤️

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Have a Seat - Elijah

Pairing: Elijah x Reader

Warning: So much Fluff

You woke slowly, unsure what had pulled you from your slumber. It didn’t take long for you to realize that you were alone. A glance at the clock showed it to be just after three in the morning. You stretched your arms far above your head and arched your back as you groaned at the pleasant pain in your muscles. Remembering the activities that had overworked those muscles brought a grin to your face. 

Pushing the blanket aside, you climbed from the bed and quickly slid into your underwear before grabbing your boyfriend’s shirt from the floor to put it on. You padded across the room to the door with a yawn. Your feet carried you to your destination without much thought. It was a path you’d traveled many times during the course of your relationship with Elijah. 

You leaned in the doorway of the room the Original used for his office. You squinted in the light that poured from the room and watched him as he worked. He was reading over some papers on the desk, occasionally stopping to jot down a note or two. It seemed that he didn’t notice your arrival but you knew that was unlikely. All of the Mikaelsons were incredibly perceptive. To be fair, anyone probably would be after living for a thousand years. 

Finally, he sat everything down and glanced over at you with a tilt of his head. “What are you doing up, sweet heart?”

“You know I don’t sleep well without you,” you answered as you pushed yourself off the doorframe. You made your way across the floor to him enjoying the way his gaze took you in. 

He graced you with a lazy, sweet smile. “So attached to me already?”

You huffed a laugh. “We’ve been dating for nearly a year now, Elijah.”

“Has it been that long?” He sounded genuinely surprised as he reached out to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you closer. His head rested against your side and you ran your fingers through his hair. 

You leaned forward and kissed him. “Losing track of time in your old age?” you teased. 

His hand slid from your waist and smacked your ass playfully. “Behave,” he all but growled.

“How much longer are you going to be?”

He flipped through the papers on the desk. “Not terribly long. I have a meeting with the attorney tomorrow to take care of some things. I want to get through these before then.”

You pouted but simply nodded your head in acknowledgement instead of saying anything. 

“Come, sit,” he instructed as he pulled you onto his lap. He used one arm to pull you back so you were nestled against his chest. 

You shifted position so you were more comfortable and nuzzled against his chest, your eyes drifting shut as you enjoyed being so close to him. 

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Comfortable?”

You nodded and made a noise of agreement.

“Good. You stay there and I’ll be done in no time, sweet heart.”

Minutes later, Elijah was leaned back in his chair, arms wrapped around you as he read over the paper in his hand. While he worked, you fell into a peaceful slumber, rousing only briefly when he finished and lifted you to carry back to his bed.

Tag List:  @evyiione @violentmommabear42

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What are you going to do when you're not saving the world?

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#yapper wife + quiet husband

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Ah! There you are, Your High... It's Kit! Kit! Kit! I'm Kit! I'm on my way! RICHARD MADDEN as Prince Kit in CINDERELLA (2015) dir. Kenneth Branagh

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A Snowstorm, a Grump, and a Game

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: The snowstorm traps everyone inside the compound, but you're determined to make the best of it. The rest of the team is scattered around, playing games or lounging, but you’re already on a mission: pestering Bucky into joining you for board games.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Fluff, like two swear words, teasing, playful threats

Author’s Note: Thank you to my mom for unintentionally giving me this idea <3

Navigation

The compound was a war zone of boredom. The snowstorm raging outside had the Avengers grounded for what felt like forever, and everyone was handling it differently. Tony was shouting at Clint for cheating in Monopoly, and Natasha was kicking Steve's ass at poker. You were up to something different. You’d made it your personal mission to annoy Bucky Barnes until he played a game with you. 

You hummed, skipping into the Common Room, with a miechvious smile on our face. You spotted him on the couch, with a book in hand, looking like every bit of a grump. Your favorite grump. 

His hair was messy, dark strands a little messed up from him running his fingers through it, and his scowl was as deep as ever. Perfect. 

“Mr. Barnes,” you called, plopping onto the couch beside him. “You’re such a buzzkill. It’s not even fun teasing you anymore. I may just give it up entirely.”

“Good,” he said without looking up, his voice as flat as he was pretending to read, his attention now on you. “Now fuck off.”

You gasped, clutching your chest. “You wound me, Bucky. Right in the soul. How am I supposed to enjoy board games without my partner in crime?”

His eyes flicked up from the book, unimpressed. “Sounds like a you problem, baby.”

Determined, you slid closer, reaching for the dice you’d conveniently left on the table next to him, knowing it would bait him hook, line and sinker. “I don’t need your attitude, I just need these-”

Before you could grab them, he moved quicker. 

In one swift motion, he pulled you onto his lap, making you yelp in surprise. His vibranium arm was around your waist, pinning you down like you weighed nothing. 

“Stop being a fucking menace,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly in your ear. “You send my blood pressure up.”

You wiggled, grinning despite yourself. “Oh no, what will I do now? Big, scary Bucky Barnes has me trapped,” you teased, your voice dripping with mock distress. “I’m terrified.”

His chest rumbled with laughter, a rare sound that made you feel like you’d won something. “You should be,” he said, though his grip on you was more protective than punishing. 

His hands were strong, but he held you like you were breakable, and something about that made your cheeks heat. That heat also pooling in your stomach.

“I am not even scared, not even a little bit,” you pointed out, squirming just to annoy him more. “Honestly, this is kind of disappointing. I expected more from you, old man.”

He huffed, setting his book down without loosening his hold on you. “You’re impossible, дорогой.” Sweetheart.

“And you secretly love it,” you shot back, leaning your head against his shoulder with a satisfied smile.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his thumb absentmindedly brushing against your side. You melted like butter on warm toast.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, almost fond. “Yeah, well, don’t push your luck, doll.”

You sighed contently.

“Will you play a game with me later?” you asked, batting your lashes at him like a total brat. 

“We’ll see, brat,” he said gruffly, looking at the ceiling, avoiding your doe eyes. 

“Please?”  

“Maybe.”  

“Please!”  

“Don’t whine.” He tugged on a strand of your hair.

You were undeterred, already used to how he pretended to be mad at you but always handled you gently. Your smile grew even wider as you started chanting, “Please, please, please—”  

“If you don’t shut up-” he growled, but you cut him off by leaning in and planting a kiss on the tip of his nose.  

The room seemed to freeze. His blue eyes widened slightly, and his gruff demeanor faltered for a split second before he exhaled sharply, huffing like a frustrated old man. He was your old man.

“You’re lucky I don’t throw you in a snowstorm for that,” he muttered, but his hand on your waist betrayed him, his thumb brushing soft reassuring circles against your side.  

You tilted your head, trying to hold back a laugh as you watched his icy exterior crack just a little more. “So you’ll play a game with me? Pretty please?”  

He sighed like it physically hurt him to give in, but he always did. 

“Fine.” Bucky said so softly you almost didn’t hear him.

You grinned liked the cat the ate the canary. 

“One game. If it’ll get you to shut the hell up.” His large hand was warm on your back.

“Two games.” You pushed, with a hopeful smile and poppy dog eyes.

“Don’t push it, sweet girl,” he warned, though his tone lacked any real bite.  

You grinned triumphantly, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you made yourself comfortable. “We both know you’ll cave,” you teased, your voice full of smug satisfaction. “You always do.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. His tone was low, threatening in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “Are you so sure, дорогой?”

“Keep it up, and the only game we’re playing is who can survive the longest in the damn snowstorm. Spoiler alert, it’s not gonna be you.”  

You laughed, the sound soft and bright, and you felt his chest rumble faintly with a chuckle of his own.  

“Whatever you say, Bucky. Just don’t forget, I always win.”  

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he replied, “The only thing you’re winning is a one-way ticket to getting thrown off this couch, your cute little ass hitting the ground.”  

And yet, neither of you made any move to separate, content to sit there tangled up in each other as the snowstorm raged on outside.

You soon fell asleep on his lap and Bucky made no move to wake you.

In fact, when Peter came to poke you, Bucky hissed at him, and Peter scampered off.

Bucky pulled a blanket over you, holding you snuggly against him, cradling the back of your head with one hand and rubbing circles on your lower back with the other.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Happy Holidays!

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

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a reminder 🫧

☀️ your fictional cg loves you

☀️ your fictional cg cares about you so much

☀️ your fictional cg adores spending time with you

☀️ your fictional cg does not judge your regression at all

☀️ your fictional cg understands all your quirks and habits

☀️ your fictional cg feels honored to be able to take care of you

having a fictional cg is not weird or wrong, it is incredibly cool. you see a character that someone has created, and your thought is "i want that character to take care of me." what can be more beautiful than that?

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Please reblog if you think belly rubs should be normalized and accepted as a form of physical affection and seen as the same level as hugs and cuddles. I need to prove something

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BILLY HARGROVE in STRANGER THINGS 2 ↳ Chapter Nine: The Gate

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Unaware

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader

Summary: Some at the Sanctuary are unaware of who you are…

A/N: This is the “protective husband fluff” that I mentioned earlier, but I don’t have an exam next week, so I’m gonna write the other one to lol

I was thinking about how much I think Aleksander would hate people saying that his wife “belongs to him” and crap, so voila

Y/G/T is your Grisha type (Heartrender, Inferni, etc.) and Y/G/C is your Grisha color (red, blue, purple)

Keep reading

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Thank you to everyone who got me to 10000 likes!

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Tyler: Why is everything scary and awful?! Is there nothing good? Kate: My belly is very soft and warm. Tyler, burying his face in Kate's belly: *muffled screaming*

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TWISTERS FEATURETTE, GLEN POWELL: ALL ACCESS

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