It’s really important that you don’t think about your otp wearing each other’s clothing. You’ll explode if you do. Don’t read these examples.

  • Any shirt that belongs to Garrus is absolutely enormous on Shepard, especially the neckline (it’s designed to accomodate a Turian cowl, after all). But seeing her slip it on and folding and tucking it to fit over her smaller human frame makes Garrus happy in a strange way.

  • While Aveline’s not a small woman, Donnic’s shirts are still just large enough to cover the tops of her thighs. She likes wearing them to bed, especially when they’re on opposite patrol shifts and she has to sleep alone.

  • In the winter, Merrill can never find her socks, so she always goes to bed wearing Carver’s. They’re so big that they go halfway up her shins. She’s not above stealing his pants and shirts, either, and half the time he’ll come to bed and find her swathed in a veritable nest of his old clothes. He would never say it, of course, but it’s adorable.

  • Shepard likes to wear Kaidan’s old sweatshirts while he’s gone on Spectre business away from the Normandy. They always smell like him, even after they’ve been washed, and it helps dull the ache of missing him.

  • Anders pulls out one of Hawke’s old house-robes after they’ve had an argument, pushing his face into the silky fabric as he sleeps alone in his cot at the clinic.

  • Fenris gets soaking wet one day walking across Hightown in the rain. Hawke urges him to take off his clothes and let them dry by the fire, and lets him borrow an old, soft shirt and leggings to wear. Fenris has to resist the urge to smell the shirt again and again while Hawke’s not looking - it smells faintly of mint oil and elfroot and Hawke.

  • Thane watches the news reports on the invasion of Earth with a scarf of Shepard’s wrapped around his hands, praying that his memories are not all that he has left of her.

  • Alistair ducks into his tent at the end of a terrible day, ready to fall over with exhaustion. But then he sees the Warden stretched out over the blankets, fast asleep and wearing nothing but one of his shirts. Something about seeing that tugs at his heart, and he flops down beside her to kiss her awake.

think about running your fingers through kaidan alenko’s hair

about feeling the crackles and sparks that jump from morrigan’s lips to the hollow of your neck

about tracing zevran arainai’s tattoos feather-light with the tip of your nose

about the soft skin and hard muscle of ashley williams under your hands, and the hard guns and soft words she wields like weapons

about the scent that belongs to leliana, and how when she sneaks up behind you, you can smell her sweet and gentle even before she kisses your ear

about the way that fenris folds in on you when he hugs you, arms strong around your back and hair falling soft against your cheek

about closing your eyes and letting your skin tell you how different you are from thane krios, and how, when all is said and done, those differences don’t really matter at all

the light of the sun that’s cradled by stars,
one hundred fourty-nine million
six hundred thousand kilometers away,
burns my skin just the same
as your fingertips that grew
familiar with the valleys of my body
leaving scorched goosebumps in its wake
but because you’ve forgotten how i feel
i know that as eager as you can be
it will take you
less than eight minutes
for you to reach my skin.
so, please.
touch me. burn me. scald me.
make me explode in sensation

turn me into a supernova
because all i ever wanted
was to be a star