#while completely drenched and stinky

[albonium]

i saw white lies open for thirty seconds to mars 10+ years ago and i've listened to them almost every day since then. i have no idea what they look like, what their names are, nothing.

[nastyaromatherapy]

Brother's best friend (18+)

You see Nate, who you're not so fond of, at your house hanging out with your brother.

do i have many Ethan requests currently? yes. but am i currently salivating, thirsting, and barking for nate? yes.

pairing - bbf!nate jacobs x fem!reader

one shot length, 1.4k+ word fic

warnings: PIV, nate's kind of the worst obvi, nate says the r-slur, nate's like graduated highschool by now, uhh idfk creampie ig

The stench wafting out of your brother's room was disgusting, the fumes infiltrated your nostrils when you walked through the hall to get your laundry. You tried to ignore him and his friends over their yelling which was damn near impossible, who knows what the fuck they did in there. All you knew is that it was stinky, sweaty, and weirdly horny.

You shuffled your way into the laundry room and started loading the machine. Somehow the smell of your dirty clothes was more tolerable than his room. Suddenly the noises from the musty dump got louder, signifying that the door had opened. You paid no mind, not wanting to see him or Daniel, or whoever else was lurking in that place.

You had just about finished loading the washer until you heard a voice. "Forgot something?" You turned around and looked up to see Nate with a pink thong dangling from his fingers. "Thanks," you said with annoyance. You yanked it from his fingers to throw it in the drum.

Nate was hot, a grade above you, but you still disliked him with rationality. In your junior year he catfished you, leading you to embarrass yourself in front of the person that you thought you were texting, and then you became a joke amongst his friend group.

He stood behind you as you threw in tide pods and started the machine. You turned around and he was still there. "That the same pair you wore in that one pic?" You rolled your eyes, "Which one?" He chuckled to himself. "The fact you have to ask 'which one' is laughable." You scoffed and stormed out of the room, brushing past him.

"When will you stop being mad at me?" He called out, making you turn around. "It's been a year, c'mon everyone's forgotten." He spoke. "Not you apparently! Maybe if you stopped being a total dick, we'd be neutral like how I am with the rest of my brother's friends." You huffed and walked to your room with him following behind. "Okay, okay y/n, I'm sorry." He said as he leaned against your doorframe.

"Whatever Nate, why do you want my forgiveness so bad anyways? Just go back and hang out with my brother." You said while straightening random trinkets on your dresser. "Because, y'know, I want to be neutral with you. Besides, I'd be lying if I said I haven't jacked off at least once to those photos-" "Oh my god Nate, ew! Just get your perverted ass out of my fucking room!" You yelled, attempting to push his tall frame out to no avail.

He looked down at you, finding the power difference endearing. "It's not my fault you're perfect," he purred, making you soil your your panties. You always loved when he complimented you. You swallowed as you looked up at him. "My brother's gonna wonder where you are so, you should y'know, before he comes looking for you." He shakes his head. "Your brother's retarded, he's not gonna wonder shit." He said as his hands reached to shut your door.

"Nate," you whispered before he leaned down to kiss you. You internally gasped as your hands found their way to his cheeks, and his traveled to grope your ass through the oversized tee you drowned in. The groans he let escape into your mouth was enough to make you completely drench your panties, your other hand reaching for his shirtless chest. The two of you traveled to your bed, not breaking the kiss, only casually coming up for air.

You were positioned at the bottom, head resting on your pillow with him above you. He slipped his tongue into your mouth just as he slipped his hand underneath your shirt, fingers making their way to your heavy clit. You whimpered and jolted at the connection, inching your legs wider for him. He rubbed circles around your bulging clit through the panties whilst his tongue journeyed through your mouth.

"Nate, please," you whimpered into his mouth. He pulled away leaving your mouth agape as he lifted your tee over your head. "Fuck," he whispered to himself. You sat up to kiss him as he grasped your tits, kneading them and squeezing on your nipples. You moaned into his mouth from the friction as you reached down to his crotch. He groaned when he felt your hand on his erection. You broke the kiss to unbutton his pants, pulling them down as you licked your lips. You eyed his length through his Calvin Kleins and massaged him through the fabric.

He moaned from your touch, biting his lip as he looked down at your hand. You reached your hand in to stretch the waistband and pull his cock out. His chest rose and fell as you leaned down to lick his shaft before swallowing him. He bit back a whimper as you took him deep into your mouth. Your soft plush lips wrapped around his shaft like a ring that slid up and down his girthy length. Your doe eyes met his dark ones as your cheeks hollowed, making you moan around his cock.

"Fuck, I always knew you were a slut from those photos," He said between grunts. Your eyebrows furrowed as you breathed heavily through your nose, stomach churning from how aroused you were. Vibrations were sent up his cock from your moans, making him twitch in your mouth. "Shit you're gonna make me cum," he whispered before painting your mouth white. You slid off of him, letting the cum canopy over the rest of his length, making a mess on your bed.

After catching his breath, he fisted your hair in his hands to pull you up to him to interlock lips. He grimaced at the taste of his bitter cum on your lips as his tongue grazed yours, his hands again toying with your perky nipples. "Why'd b/n have to have such a hot sister," he whispered, making your hole flutter. "Maybe so you'd have something fun to do in his godforsaken tomb." You smirked against his lips before he laid you down back onto your mattress.

He spread your legs, eyeing that darkened, damp patch on your panties. You closed your eyes, slightly embarrassed by your physical arousal. He pulled them down, a string of natural lubricant following behind. You stretched your legs in the air and opened them wider, letting him view your glistening pussy.

He tapped his tip atop your sticky folds, his cock already covered in cum. You whimpered at the contact, and he smiled a smug smirk at your reaction. "Yeah, you want it?" He whispered condescendingly. "Yes Nate, please! I need you so bad," you begged. He lined his cock up with your gaping entrance before plunging in. You moaned out as your pussy stretched to accommodate his length. You moaned out with every thrust of his hips, not doing your best at keeping quiet.

He chuckled at himself whenever you cried out when he went deep, his tip grazing your sensitive cervix. "Such a slut taking one of your brother's friend's cocks, yeah?" He groaned as he pistoned himself in and out of your pussy. Your hole was sloppy and wet, and a ring of his previous cum formed around his base. "Please don't stop Nate, it feels s'good," you slurred out.

He slapped your tits making you yelp and leaned down to suck on your lips. You moaned into his mouth as his cock fucked your pussy animalistically. "'Pussy's so fucking good," he groaned against your lips. "You gonna touch yourself whenever I'm on my way to hang out with your brother? Gonna pull me away so I can fill you up with my cum like the good slut you are?" He asked. "Mhm, yes Nate, I'm gonna need your cock everyday," you moaned, clenching around his length. "Good fucking girl," he groaned.

Your stomach twisted and you found yourself throbbing around his length, close to cumming. "Nate, I'm s'close," you whimpered out. "Fuck, cum for me baby," he grunted through his teeth, making you unravel all around his cock, your cum dripping like warm honey on his length. With one final thrust he came too, shooting his load into your tight cunt. He pulled out and watched the mix of cum spill out of you, leaving a puddle on the sheets, and your hole that was left gaping.

***

The two of you put your clothes back on and he walked out of your room. Your brother notices him from the hallway and finally wonders where he's been. "Nate, dude, where the hell were you?" He just smugly shrugged. "Bathroom, jacking off to your sister," he starts, looking back at you. "She's fucking hot." You scoffed, "Gross," before closing your door.

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about Isagi Yoichi, the hero of Japan and biggest egoist on the field, being a complete loser when it comes to the girl he likes.

Like, he may insult the opposing team's players (and even his own teammates sometimes!) in the field, but gets all red and stutters when he needs to talk to you.

Isagi Yoichi who is absolutely delusional. If he holds a conversation with you for more than 5 minutes, you can bet he's gonna think about it during THE WHOLE WEEK. His friends can't escape his feelings either: he's always talking about you or associating things with you. Like: "Oh, she would like this!" Or "You guys won't believe it: we talked for almost 10 minutes today!" Please save Hiori and Bachira. They can't take it anymore. (Well, Bachira doesn't really care, but Hiori is really almost losing his shit.)

This absolute dork would listen to love songs while thinking about you and then get all blushy after, hugging a pillow while stuffing his red face on it and everything. And heaven forbids anyone enters his room after you compliment him! He's kicking his feet, screaming, crying and laughing all at the same time. SPECIALLY if it's a compliment regarding his football abilities. Say something along the lines of "That goal today was amazing, Yoichi! It was such a smart play!" and he's melting and thinking about it through the whole month.

Speaking of football, he'd LOVE to see you in his soccer games/practices cheering loudly for him. I mean, he's already absolutely smitten for you, but seeing you there screaming because of his goal or smiling because of a play he made just makes his obsession love for you grow 10 times bigger!!

He'd even ask his mom for advice on what to say to you! She thinks it's cute her little boy is growing up (even though he's already 17), so she tries to help him the best she can. But there's just so much mama can do. He tries to follow her teachings, but, as I said before, always stutters and trips over his words, which makes him feel really stupid and almost give up on love, since it's a "very hard and painful feeling that just hurts people" (his words).

When he finally musters up the courage to ask you out on a date (after a lot of insistence from Hiori, who is just really tired from all of this), he wants it all to go perfect. He has it all pictured in his head: he'll ask you to meet him in the back of the school after extracurricular activities so he can ask you out. He'll have flowers and everything, and then he'll say that speech he spent the last 14 days memorizing. You'll say yes with a smile in you face (he's already blushing just from imagining your smile, he really is down bad) and then you'll live your happilly ever after together.

Spoiler alert: nothing went as planned. First, the letter he wrote asking you to meet him in the back of the school got wet because he accidentally spilt water on it. So, he had to make a half-assed substitute letter to put in your desk.

Second, he forgot soccer leaves people all stinky. So, at the end of practice, he had to choose between taking a shower and showing up all drenched and late and showing up sweaty and smelly. He choose the former, after all, showing up late but presentable is better than showing up early but looking like you got shit on by a racoon.

Third, when he finally got there (you were almost leaving, thank God he caught you just in time!) and apologized for being late, he gave you the flowers. He thought nothing else could go wrong, but things can always get worse than they already are. But I don't blame him for not knowing that things could, in fact, get worse: how was he supposed to guess there were literally bees in the flowers? To get rid of them, he tried to shook the bouquet, but accidentally ended up throwing it at your face. With bees and all.

You screamed. He screamed. He grabbed the bouquet and shoved it away, looking at the ground and wishing it'd just swallow him whole. He messed up his chance, you'd never ever even look at his way again. You hated him, absolutely hated him. You wish he was dead, you were going to change schools just to never see him again, he's the worse person ever-

Huh? What is that sound? You're laughing...? You're seriously laughing?

You laughed. He got confused.

He looked up. You were throwing your head back while wiping away the tears that got out of your eyes. You were clutching your stomach because you were laughing so hard it was starting to hurt.

You laughed. He laughed.

You both looked like maniacs. Lunatics. Laughing alone in the middle of nowhere. You looked crazy he WAS crazy. Crazy for you. Not that you knew it at that time

He then decided to just shoot his shot and finally asked you out, without flowers or memorized speech. He didn't even think you'd accept, he just thought it wouldn't hurt to try.

Imagine his face when you said yes. Even with the shitty proposal and embarassing moments, you said yes. And he was absolutely delighted. You gave him your number so he could text you the details about the date, and he was seriously shaking. I'm being for real, his pupils were blown wide and he was almost crying from happiness.

He went home jumping and skipping from happiness. Now, he wasn't just a loser. He was a loser with a date, so that makes him less loserly (at least that's what he thinks).

You accepting his proposal didn't make him talk less about you. Actually, he was now talking about you more than before, if it's even possible. Hiori felt like killing himself (he was happy for his friend, of course, he just didn't want to admit it).

This fic has a "sequel", it's this one

Masterlist

[jaemmphilia]

★ 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦: 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘵

★ kinktober 2023 - masterlist ★ includes: sehun ★ warnings: explicit content, reader has a sweat kink, sehun is a sweaty boy. sehun's sweat smells neutral (no stinky boys allowed) © triplejracha, 2023. please do not copy to any other platform.

Sehun is drenched.

His shirt is sticking to his skin in the most uncomfortable way, beads of sweat dripping down the side of his face. No matter how many times he wipes his face to get rid of the sweat but it keeps rolling down his body.

He finishes his daily run and enters his apartment that he shares with you. Kicking off his shoes, he goes to the bedroom to take a shower. He sees you laying in bed just as you were when he left less than an hour ago. This time around, you're awake and scrolling on your phone.

You sit up in bed and stretch, the blanket falling off your bare upper body. You look at Sehun with a sleepy smile on your face, your eyes noticing that he's sweating like crazy. Something in your brain tells you to jump his bones.

You decide to grab him while his back is turned to you, your arms reaching out to tug him onto the bed, your nose tucked into his neck. You hold onto his damp body tightly, not allowing him to escape your hold.

"Babe, what are you doing? I'm all gross and sweaty!" Sehun says, laughing as you breathe in his scent, your hair tickling his neck.

"Mmh, I don't care. I like it when you're sweaty." You mutter into his neck, placing kisses on his salty skin. "I wanna ride you."

"Can you at least wait until I take a shower?" Sehun questions, watching as you push him down onto the bed before straddling him.

"If we do that, then you'll just have to take another shower, and that's wasteful." You point out, grinding against his lap. "Besides, we could just shower together."

Sehun wants to disagree with you but he knows that you're right in this situation. He allows you to continue your actions, watching as you rid him of his jogging shorts and underwear.

You slip off your own pair of underwear, your hands working Sehun's cock until he's mostly hard. You sit on his dick, letting out a soft moan as you do. As you swivel your hips slowly, you lean down to lick at your boyfriend's sweaty chest.

Goosebumps form on Sehun's skin as your tongue glides along his pecs and nipples. He isn't used to getting this much stimulation all at once, so he tries to not cum too soon like a horny teen.

You begin to pick up the pace of your hips, your tongue lapping up any traces of sweat left on Sehun's body. It's truly addicting, the way he smells and tastes despite going on a 2 hour long run.

It doesn't take long for Sehun to lose control, his cock emptying inside your walls, filling you to the brim. The feeling of his warm cum coating your insides is enough to bring you to completion, your cock leaking on the valley of his stomach.

Sehun had no idea you were so addicted to his sweat, but he's definitely not complaining about it.

[crazy-writer-101]

The Eyes of a Pigeon

For nearly three summers, four human kids visited the abandoned school. The school wasn’t dangerous. Sometimes,  I would fly above the worn building, but it was difficult since it was a very tall building. The school was surrounded by tall grass fields a long, long way from any other buildings. Once when it was really cold, some guys with bright hats tried to knock down the school, but the kids gathered a bunch of other kids and they staked out in the building for nearly two nights, stopping the glowy guys from taking away the building. 

The kids would go to the school almost every day around the middle of the day when the bright sun would cast an orange kind of glow on the blue right above. There were two boys and two girls. One of the boys would always bring small cans filled with color and after excessive shaking, he would point it at one of the walls and cool drawings would appear. Another boy in this crazy chair with wheels, would always be staring at these stacks of paper that were somehow bound together. One of the girls wore lots of shiny gems and would sometimes help the boy with the color cans, but she would usually be playing with scraps in the building, occasionally picking flowers or weeds. The other girl would pick up a rusty pole and jump around singing songs while dancing wildly. 

They were shorter last year. In fact they were very different from this year. The boy with colorful cans only brought a tall bottle of stinky liquid now. Even if the smell was unpleasant, the boy still drank it. The girl who used to pick flowers, only slumped into a dusty pillow, sometimes rolling some weird looking leaves into a little brown paper, sometimes holding the rolled paper up to her mouth and breathing smoke. The other girl who sang loudly, now sat in one place most of the time, her hands wrapped around her legs that were pulled up to her chest. Small tears rolling down her rosy cheeks. Something was wrong with them. 

It especially started falling through when the second boy stopped showing up. I stopped hearing the turning circles of his chair after summer of this year. The kids slowly began showing up less and less as soon as the leaves changed to a different color and the air got colder. On days they wouldn’t show up, I began to think they would never come back. Then they showed up individually. 

The boy would throw things around and break the windows that weren’t already broken, yelling words that I’ve heard mothers tell their children not to say. The girl who breathed smoke would only go there sometimes to ramble to air about how it ‘wouldn’t approve of her smoking’. Before any guilt can settle her features, she would laugh dryly before mumbling ‘but you’re dead’ and then falling asleep soon after. The girl who cried would go to the old school and only ever cried. Her beautiful hair was always tangled and her porcelain face was redden and drenched in tears. Pain filled her voice as she screamed into the wind things I could never experience and would never want to. I would try to coo to calm her down and sometimes it helped, but sometimes her cries were too loud. 

It broke my little heart every time I saw them be so different from when they were shorter. It was like they were completely different kids. Maybe they are. Are they? Are they different children from last year? Well, what happened to the other ones? No, no, these are the ones from last year. Because the boy used the last of his color cans to paint the other boy’s wheelchair that was empty of the boy who always sat in it. Because the girl bundled the last flowers she picked into a bouquet wrapped in a black transparent fabric. Lace, I think she said? Because the tear-stained girl sang a sad song to the fields. 

I was flying across town one day. I had just been bitten on the leg by a stray dog. He was skinny and looked hungry and if it didn’t end with me dying, I would’ve stayed and helped him find food. My leg hurt and I felt whatever I had eaten early coming back to exit my mouth. I swallowed it back down and kept flying even in pain. 

I flew to a familiar place that usually had a familiar smell; freshly baked bread. It came from the window of a small room in a tall building. I flew to the window that was cracked slightly open, not enough for me to fly through. Everything seemed normal except for the fact that there was no fresh bread and no one in the small room. An older woman, however, burst through the door, wailing and screaming. An older man rushed in after her and held her tightly as she slowly fell to the ground. Both of the people were familiar because they were the same people that were with the girl with the pretty voice every morning and every night. Except the girl wasn’t here. Hopefully nothing terrible has happened to her. 

I pushed off the ledge with pain and began flying again. The sun was barely setting behind the old building so the kids should be at the abandoned school now. I took two lefts and a right and before I took another right and passed the clean school where the kids went almost everyday too, I saw a lot of bright lights. Red and blue flashed rapidly and my mind hurt a little bit. I moved to get a better look at the unusual activity and almost crashed into a window. Kids were crying and more were shaking. I cooed a little in hopes of the crying to stop. Like times before, it did nothing. Before I could fly away, I noticed a familiar face. Two scary men were hauling out the boy that had colored cans. But now his hands are colored and stuck together behind his back. His eyes were tearstained and he looked so sad. So sad. 

He got shoved into the back of a box with wheels that flashed red and blue. He didn’t come back out after a second. And another second. I didn’t realize until later that was the last time I would see him. I flew up towards the orange up above and began making my way to the old school. The wind felt colder tonight. My feathers didn’t do me mercy like all the times before. I kept flying all the way to my destination. When I got there, only one kid was there. The girl who breathed smoke. She held the little magic stick in her hand as she sat against a wall. I fought against the silly little voices in my head, and flew down through a broken window. Landing a couple feet from the girl, my leg burned with pain. The girl looked down at me with glassy eyes and smiled softly. 

“You hurt, bud?” She muttered, reaching her hand out to me. I flinched and shuffled back a little. She looked at me sympathetically before putting the little stick between her fingers up to her mouth and breathing more grey smoke. 

“It’s okay. I ain’t gonna hurt you. I have no reason to. My friends are gone. I’m gone,” her voice was shaky and it looked like she might cry, but she never did, “I’m leaving this town. And all my memories with it. Including them.” 

She breathed and looked toward the entrance of the school that had no doors. You can see tall grass for a long time. I cooed softly. She let out a dry chuckle without looking away from the field. She sniffed and I could see tears threaten to spill from her eyes. Nothing fell though. No tears ever fell since the air got colder and the others slipped away. She needed to cry, but she never did. 

“I really wish we can go back to being little kids,” she muttered. Her voice cracked and she sniffled again. Some sort of darkness covered her features. Suddenly that same dark feeling pulled at something inside my chest. I had no idea what it was but it didn’t feel well. I wanted to make things better, but there was nothing I could do. 

After that dark day, I never saw any of the kids again. I spent many warm summers and cold winters going to the abandoned school, hoping they came back. I spent too many summers and winters, pretending they would come home. It hurt my chest each and every time they didn’t show up. They were gone and, after a long time, my leg stopped hurting. So did my chest. I felt happy. I flew, now, above the orange and blue. The air was no longer cold nor dark. I stopped worrying about the kids and the abandoned school when the boy in the wheelchair told me everything was okay. 

[siodium]

pictured: moments before disaster struck us. going for an outdoor photoshoot with a rainy weather forecast is maximum clown behaviour. 🤡

mogu is back from australia for a while, and i agreed to help him with operation: get that girl (back). he had to fly back soon, so we could only hold the shoot on sunday.

things that transpired within the first two hours at our first shoot location (jurong lake gardens):

we got kicked out of starbucks' outdoor dining area the moment we took the plastic covers off our food...... ok i kinda saw that coming but when we said we weren't going to eat the food, the staff said we also couldn't take photos for social media?? sounds like bs to me. mogu even bought a drink in hopes of not getting yeeted but we had no rizz so we ended up having to pack up and relocate elsewhere.

managed to find a bench that we could use. when we were getting ready to shoot, it started pOURING. mogu had to use his one and only umbrella to defend the food bc the plastic covers for the food were quickly filling up with rainwater and unusable at that point. he was completely drenched rip. the visuals were so pathetic that i didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

the rain didn't seem like it was going to subside any time soon, so mogu told me to get to shelter and have my lunch first. and i did just that. took my food, drink, and bag with me as i headed back to the toilet area/rest stop just next to starbucks (lmao). oN THE WAY BACK, MY UMBRELLA DECIDED TO DO A FLIPPITY FLIP. and i had no way to flip it down bc my hands were fULL!!! so i watched with horror as my salmon rice bowl started becoming a soup. ochazuke?? more like amezuke. i could only use my body as a shield so i was also drenched at that point.

scarfed down my food (after pouring out as much water as i could without tipping the entire bowl over)........... next to the handicapped toilet................

when the rain died down, i went back to rescue mogu and the rest of the food. since the food covers couldn't be used, we just had to stack and balance as many items as we could in our arms. mogu took the chicken skewers, stood up, tripped over something, and dropped most of the skewers onto the floor. rip skewers. (we couldn't pick them up immediately bc both our hands were full but mogu went to clean up after we finished eating at the rest stop.)

after eating more food (seasoned with rainwater ofc), my stomach started feeling funny. luckily for me, the handicapped toilets were just right beside us. spoilers: it was diarrhoea. when i was sitting on the toilet, i heard some noises outside and i got a bit nervous bc i couldn't rmb if i locked the door properly?? so i reached over, and my phone fell out of my lap (there were no bag hangers so i had my stuff on my lap don't judge) oNTO THE STINKY WET FLOOR. helps. i tried to decontaminate it as much as i could but aaAAA. the tap was also not working very well so i was struGGLING.

while i was having a fun toilet time, mogu realised his phone wasn't with him??? so he waited for me to come out of the loo to ask if i had his phone. i did not. so, he ran off in search of it. good news!! he left it on a bench while cleaning up the chicken skewers and nobody took it. phew.

luwi joined us at our second shoot location, which was near beauty world?? she wanted to try out the new lens she got for her fujifilm~ she even brought a full set of clothes for me to change into!!! including underwear!!! i only changed out of my jorts though bc the rest of my clothes were dry by that time. tskr!!! 😭🙏

yO the photos she took were so cinematic??? i can't share most of the photos bc they're for private use only bUT here's an unedited pic of chi straight out of her camera!! the bokeh is insaneeee.

we did attempt to get to the scenic spot at the rifle range nature park, but our plans kept getting halted by the rain. we just had to make do with what we had and call it a day bc it was getting quite late. i think the photos turned out ok though!!! good work guys!!!

[zujime]

morning kisses ─── eren j. x gn!reader [w.c - 1k]

OVERVIEW — morning cuddles and a tired eren

CONTENT — just fluff and eren's stinky breath

The birds sang as the gentle wind blew. Fishes hopped out of the pond while the grass and flowers thrived, giving off a nice dewy scent. And there the two of you stayed: lying peacefully under a prospering tree, your back resting on the coarse yet soft bark with a hand lightly running through smooth chocolate strands. Strands that belonged to the figure who rested his head on the plush skin of your abdomen, arms encasing you as his breaths come to a comfortable slow. His legs sprawled out, yet tangled with yours that was situated on top of the many blades of greenery.

The two of you had been here since sunrise but never found it in you to move elsewhere. This felt perfect. The way his hands would soothingly rub at your sides as he let out a few relieved sighs whenever your fingers massaged a certain spot, how he'd bury his face into your stomach every time he felt as if you'd slip away, and the way he'd melt at the sound of your sweet hums reaching his ears. You had zoned out, completely basking in the tranquil environment around you, and you'd been far too out of it to notice the endearing gaze that'd been put upon you.

All you can muster up in return is a soft snicker as your face warms. His warm hands slide up your shirt just to pull you impossibly closer to him than before. "Eren, you're going to squeeze me to death." You snort. "I'm not even squeezing you that hard." He says, gazing up at you once again with that same stare, this time accompanied by a tender smile that had plastered itself across his pretty pink lips. Though, his eyes quickly shift to view your now unoccupied hand as his smile turns to a slight pout. "Why'd you stop?" He questioned, moving one of his hands to grasp yours before placing it back on his head.

Your lovely hands resumed their gentle motions—one tangled in his gorgeous brown locks, while the other traced along his spine. His body molding to fit perfectly with your own, like the missing piece to a puzzle. You’d been staring down at him with eyes filled to the brim with nothing but pure love. He was adorable. And almost as if he could sense you thinking of him, he looks up at you just before he moves off of you to sit you in his lap. Burying his face in your neck, arms wrapping comfortably back around your waist.

Your hands are still in their places; lost in his bedraggled hair and stuck tracing the outline of his backbone. You could feel the sluggishness in his movements—the way his lashes would ghost your skin whenever he'd flutter his eyes shut, or how you'd feel his head start to get heavy on your shoulder as he nods off before hastily jerking awake, his body slouched and the not-so-pleasant smell of his morning breath reaching your nostrils whenever he'd yawn. "Eww, Eren!" You playfully groan as you try to push him off of you.

"What?" His voice was drenched in genuine confusion. "Your breath stinks." All he does is deadpan at your statement, pulling away to look you in the eyes with his hands now resting on your hips. His pretty viridescent hues stare lethargically boring holes into yours. When you had woken up and somehow managed to get out of Eren's strong arms, you decided to lounge outside for a bit.

It had looked so peaceful and enticing—the sweet songs the birds chirped, the glorious sight of the pond that shimmered in the morning sun's rays, and how lively the plants appeared—you just had to perch yourself under the tree for a bit.

And to your surprise, the man that'd been staring you down at the moment had been trailing close by and was still very tired.

"We can head back inside if you want?" You mutter against the corner of his lip before giving him a quick peck, a hand moving to cup his face and run a thumb along his soft skin as you whisper "you seem pretty tired". However, all he replies with is a simple grunt that's soon followed by a faint "I don't feel like moving" as his face finds its place back in the crook of your neck. His lips leave ghostly kisses along your collarbone as his lengthy hair tickled your skin, but that all comes to a close when you gently nudge him off of you to get up from his lap, arm outstretched as you wait for his hand to intertwine with yours.

"Come on, Eren." You coo.

The warmth of his hand in yours makes a soft smile grow on your face as you watch him rise to his full height, soon leading his sluggish form back inside your shared house. Feet hit the cool tile floor as you tread to the bedroom. The bed creaks as your six-foot-tall cuddle bug lays down on the pillowy comforter, arms outstretched and waiting to wrap back around you as a slight pout is displayed on his face. "Hurry up," he groans as his hands hastily grab at nothing but the air. "I wanna hold you again." A whine slipped from his lips as the words sluggishly rushed out. You had no choice but to join him, especially with how cute he looked.

[nannymcpee]

An unplanned little adventure (take 2 as my last post got taken down 🥺)

As I woke up this morning missing my beautiful boy I saw his nappy cover, plastic pants and onesie hung up to dry and it brought back all the happy memories of yesterday 🥰🥰🥰

We had decided to have a chilled out day with lots and lots of cuddles…. And that’s how it started.

But as he’d filled his nappy while I was nursing him, setting all my tummy butterflies off as he wriggled and grunted in my arms, I asked him what he’d like to do wearing that poopy nappy. One of the things he said was to play on Mr Apples the rocking horse but he sadly wasn’t around so I suggested a quick trip to the park to play on the rocking motorbike instead.

As he was going to be playing I thought I’d better get him in some additional protection so wrapped him up in a nappy cover, plastic pants and a onesie….. and the obligatory big boy clothes.

After he was dressed I lay next to him and stroked his hair and face while dreamily taking in every last beautiful part of him and accidentally sent him off to sleep 🫣. Ooops! Oh well he’d need his energy if he was going to be playing 🤷‍♀️

After his nap we headed to the park. I held him under his arm pits to help him on to the motorbike he wanted to play on and put his feet on the peddles. Then I rocked him back and forth, tickling him occasionally to make him giggle and squirm. We still managed lots of cuddles and kisses too 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

As it was a nice day and we were already out we decided to have a wonder along the river. It was beautiful and we walked hand in hand looking at the ducks and the boats.

Not far from where the river meets the town my boo bear suddenly put his thumb in his mouth and snuggled into me, then he whimpered a little into my ear. While I held him and rubbed his back to calm him down his legs sagged slightly and I felt his tummy muscles contract. Ooooh mummy now knew what the problem was and I was thinking that maybe I’d put a little too much laxative in his morning bottle 😳

He was such a brave boy though and after he’d sucked his thumb and rested his head on my chest for a little bit he smiled at me and tugged on my hand to indicate that he was ready to carry on with our walk.

Just up ahead there was a bench so I sat down and pulled him on to my lap. With all that layering he was wearing I didn’t get to feel the warm squish of his nappy and if I’m being honest I was a little disappointed.

While cuddling him I put my hand down the front of his trackies and unpopped his onesie, then lifted him up to stand in front of me while I pulled his onesie out of the way so I could check his nappy. Though it was very full he was all contained. As I was snapping him back up he gave me a cheeky (yet completely heart melting) grin and said “the sound of running water always makes me do weewee’s when I’m wearing my nappies” …. That nappy really was getting used to its full capacity!!! Although I have made a mental note to take him to a waterfall one day. 🤭

So while I’m considering that I really should have brought the change bag with me my little poppet eagerly takes me around the town. He treated me to the most amazing cookie while he, in his words, perved over the ice cream flavours in the desert shop.

We headed back home after another cuddle on the bench. As we were walking over the bridge we stopped to look over and as I was chatting away I noticed my lil stinky pants was getting a glazed over look in his eye, the one that usually means he’s doing a wee. I stopped talking mid sentence and just watched him adoringly. I gave his ever growing crotch a squeeze and checked his trackies for signs of leaks but that megamax seemed to be holding up.

Back home he was desperate for cuddles and nursing and gave me his pouty face when I said he needed changies first. But thankfully I stood my ground because he was SOAKED!!! His nappy cover was drenched and though his plastic pants had contained most of the moisture his onesie was also a little damp.

Thankfully he was well wrapped up today but if he’d only had a nappy on that could have been a disaster…. I made a pact with myself that I’m never taking him out again without the change bag!!!!

After getting him all cleaned up and giving him an extra special nappy change I cuddled and nursed him as he’d wanted and showed him just how happy he makes me.

Thank you @mummys-lil-mushbutt for another completely dreamy day, I love you poppet 🥰🥰🥰🥰

[waiting-for-motivation]

daily things

summary: Because the life of a bounty hunter doesn‘t allow Din to have much freetime, (Y/n) helps him take care of the child as well as the Mandalorian himself.

pairings: Din Djarin x Reader, The child

warnings: fluff (that‘s it lol) NO SPOILERS

words: 1470

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

He loves her. Not only is her appearance a sight for sore eyes but her actions are beautiful too. He loves watching her doing daily things. Above all, Din loves watching her interact with the child.

Laughter fills the cargo bay as the Mandalorian climbs down the ladder and his heavy boots meet the metal floor. He turns around and his gaze wanders to (Y/n) who is kneeling in front of a box.

“Keep calm, stinky. We are almost done“, she giggles and changes the childs diaper, throwing the old one in the bin. (Y/n) fastens the new diaper and helps the little on inside his romper suit.

Din arrives next to the female in time to watch her put on socks on each foot of the child. At the sight of his father, the little one sits up and raises his arms. With a sigh the mandalorian bounty hunter picks up the child and holds him in one hand. It‘s quite funny how Din only needs a hand to hold the child and (Y/n) needs both.

“We should eat something“, Din realizes and helps the female up with his one free hand. The moment she stands directly in front of him, the Mandalorian leans his head forward. (Y/n)s forehead and the one of his beskar helmet touch in a sweet keldabe kiss.

While Din knows exactly what this kind of touch means, (Y/n) doesn‘t. But that doesn‘t mean that she isn‘t enjoying how close she gets to her friend.

After some time both turn towards their makeshift kitchen. Din hands his son to the female and disappears to make their food. (Y/n) sits down with her back against the box and places the child between her legs. The Mandalorian returns with three bowls and hands one to the child and one to his friend.

“Thank you“, (Y/n) whispers with a smile on her lips and soon she feels Dins lower back against her own. He sits on the box and is finally allowed to take off his helmet. The female would never dare to turn around to catch a glimpse of his face. And Din knows that, he knows that he can trust her.

The child is a whole other story. He is quite stubborn and because he is the Mandalorians foundling, he is allowed to see his fathers face. And it seems like the little one loves to look at the warrior because every time they eat back to back, the child waddles in front of Din. Sometimes he even forgets to eat which is rather suspicious for the always hungry baby.

Today the child stays seated in front of his mother figure and stuffs the food inside his mouth. (Y/n) laughs from time to time because he eats quite noisily.

“I should teach you a few manners, little one“, (Y/n) says and wipes a droplet from the corner of the childs mouth with her sleeve. The green baby giggles and stuffs the last bite of his fruit between his lips.

“I tried that once, and he threw a bowl full of still boiling soup at me“, Din explains with a sweet smile on his lips as he takes the first bite of his meat. His voice sounds so different without the modulator - softer.

(Y/n) laughs so hard at the imagination of the Mandalorian standing straight with soup over his red face, even though she doesn‘t know how she should imagine his face. This makes Din smile even wider because if one thing makes him happy in this cursed galaxy then it‘s (Y/n)s sweet laugh.

The child giggles too and waddles to his father, looking up at him and watching him intensely. Din raises one eyebrow but pays more attention to his food than his son. That‘s why he doesn‘t notice the little one disappearing and returning with a plushy that is almost double his size.

“What is that?“, Din asks as he looks at the child after he cooed at him. He places his bowl aside and takes the mudhorn plushy from the child.

“What?“, (Y/n) asks confused and eats the last bite of her food, setting the bowl aside and staring at the cargo bay in front of her.

“The...toy. It looks like a....mudhorn!?“, Din inspects the plushy and tries to remember where it came from. Did he buy it for the child? The material seems familiar to him, like one of his old cloaks.

“Oh yes. I made him that out of old clothes. At least, he is a child and should have something to play with“, (Y/n) explains almost ashamed. She fears Din will be angry with her because she didn‘t ask for his permission.

“It‘s cute“, the Mandalorian states and gives the plushy back to his son. The child cooes happily and waddles with a few difficulties to (Y/n), showing her his mudhorn.

Unfortunately, the next moment the child burbs and pukes all over his favorite (and only) toy. (Y/n) widens her eyes as she watches tears well up in his big eyes.

“Hey it‘s okay, little one. Come here! We will get you and the plushy cleaned up, I promise“, the female tells the crying child and pulls the toy from his grasp to pick him up. At the same time she avoids letting her gaze wander because she fears seeing Dins face.

“What happened?“, the Mandalorian asks with his familiar modulated voice which allows (Y/n) to look at the bounty hunter.

“He threw up. I‘m gonna give him a bath“, (Y/n) explains with the baby pressed to her chest, not minding the vomit all over him, and the mudhorn toy in her free hand. Then she walks across the cargo bay and sets the child along with his plushy on a box, starting to fill the little bathtub with water.

Din stays seated on his box and watches (Y/n) take off the childs clothes and place him in the tub. She sits next to it cross-legged and starts to rub a wet cloth over the dirty mudhorn. Five minutes later she sets the plushy aside and takes the dirty romper. Completely concentrating on cleaning it, (Y/n) doesn‘t notice the child using the force to lift a ball of water and moving it over her head.

A scream that sounds more like laughter fills the cargo bay and Din stands up in full protection mode. He was watching the female, but he was so enthralled by (Y/n) that he forgot everything around them. Now he sees what his son has done: (Y/n)s shirt is drenched but yet the female is laughing at the little one.

“That is what you do to thank me, stinky?“, (Y/n) asks and looks from the overjoyed child to the staring Mandalorian, smiling shyly. Immediately, Din takes off his cape and walks towards the slightly shivering female, placing it over her shoulders.

“Thank you“, she says before turning to the child and taking him out of the tub, wrapping him up in a fluffy scarf because his romper is as drenched as her shirt.

“Nap time“, (Y/n) whispers as she stands up and walks towards the little cot of the Razor Crest. She lays the smiling child in the hammock above. The mudhorn plushy takes almost every space in there but the little one doesn‘t care, he nestles his face against it.

“Here“, the Mandalorian stops next to his friend and hands her a new shirt. Then he turns around to return to the cockpit but (Y/n)s voice stops him. She quickly changed her shirt and called his name so that the mandalorian warrior looks over his shoulder.

“You should sleep too“, (Y/n) tells Din and nods towards the cot where the child is looking at his father.

“Only if you do too“, the Mandalorian replies and places one of his gloved hands against the females cheek. Slowly, he leans his helmet forward, letting it touch her forehead in a sweet keldabe kiss.

(Y/n) is the first one to lay down on the cot then all lights go out, and she feels someone lay down next to her. They face each other and can feel the others warm breath.

“Thank you“, Din whispers and places a hand on (Y/n)s face, caressing her cheek with his gloveless thumb.

“For what?“, (Y/n) asks with a smile and closes her eyes, fully enjoying his soft touch.

“For taking care of the child. For taking care of...me“, Din admits and moves closer to the female. Their noses touch as well as their chests and legs. Only a few millimeters part their lips.

“Would it be okay...if...I kissed you right now?“, the Mandalorian asks bashful. One of (Y/n)s hands wanders from his hip to his neck.

“More than okay“, (Y/n) whispers and finally, their lips touch in a first but lovely kiss.

[cptn-stvngrntrgrs]

I keep thinking of alexei and Melina interacting with Romanogers babies!!!! 😭😭😭 and yelena as the fun aunt that makes fun of their parents, and I definitely see alexei joining 😭😭 I think Melina would be so gentle with them, teaching them science, showing them animals and I just 😭😭😭

hi anon -YES OMGGG -but was that a prompt because it sure sounded like a prompt!

anyways, here ya go!

Title: turns out i got two

Relationship: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanoff

Summary:

My whole life I didn't think I have any family. Turns out I got two.

Adventures with both sides of Natasha's family!

ft. romanogers babies, cool Aunt Yelena, Grandpa Alexei and Grandma Melina, and more!

Also on AO3!

“Shhh, don’t wake up your mama!”

Natasha crinkled her nose at the noise around her, still partly muted from the nap she was just waking up from. She wasn’t sure what time it was - just that she closed her eyes in the middle of an old movie and she Steve were watching, knowing damn well it was just background noise while they cuddled in silence. One thing she knew for sure was that she was alone on the couch now but a blanket was draped over her. Giggles erupted next to her ear and she fought against a smile tugging at her lips.

“I think mama’s awake anyway,” a voice answered, an obviously failed attempt at a whisper.

“I think she’s still sleeping,” Natasha joked, peeking an eye open and seeing James right in front of her. He was grinning ear to ear, but there were specks of mud on his face. “James? Did you not listen to Nana and played with the pigs again ?” Fully awake now, Natasha sat up and took James’ face in her hands, leaning in to kiss his forehead. He giggled, throwing his arms around Natasha’s neck for a hug. “Honey,” Natasha pulled away fractionally, “you smell stinky.”

James nervously laughed and tried to explain. “I might have fallen in the pen.” Natasha narrowed her eyes, seeing right through her son’s lie. She didn’t have to be a spy to know that he’s lying - and, judging by the sheepish smile on his face, James knew he can’t fool his mother either.

“Whatever happened to watching him?” Natasha asked Alexei, her voice stern but teasing. No matter how many rules for the kids she tried to establish, it seems that they go out the window once the grandparents are in charge. She knows it should annoy her, yet she can’t help but find it cute. Melina and Alexei are only lenient on the little things anyway, respecting major rules that Steve and Natasha has laid out for their kids.

Looking up from the newspaper he was reading at the kitchen counter, Alexei’s eyes widened. “What do you want me to do! He said he fell! Right, James?” Alexei argued, throwing his hands up and winking - obviously wanting James to make his mom believe that he didn’t deliberately play with his grandma’s experiment - er, pet - pigs. James giggled and nodded, loving his little game with his grandfather. Natasha’s convinced the two of them spending so much time together will drive her to an early grave.

“Yeah, I don’t think even your dad could be convinced of that, bud. Go, take a shower please.” He nodded and ran up the stairs to the bathroom. Yawning and stretching her arms, Natasha turned to Alexei. “What time did you guys get back? And where’s everyone else?” She eyed the clock and saw that it was nearing 7pm. Melina and Alexei took James and Sarah to the Cleveland Zoo earlier in the day, insisting that the kids stop by there before they go back to New York the next day.

Melina and Alexei’s farm in the suburbs of Cleveland became a frequent vacation spot for Steve, Natasha, and the kids. Ever since the Red Room was taken down, Melina and Alexei decided to go back to Ohio and settle down - if that’s what they want to call it. The two have been working with Yelena in tracking down more Widows and other victims of the Red Room - as well as running covert ops in taking down child-trafficking rings - from their farm. Yelena is more of a nomad - being more active in the field by traveling all over the world, although she usually stops by the farm or Natasha and Steve’s house in New York.

“We only have been here for an hour. Steve’s helping Melina with some stuff in the back. Sarah does not want to leave her grandmother’s side,” Alexei smiled fondly. Sarah has thoroughly stolen her grandfather’s heart and it shows.

Natasha nodded, checking her phone for messages. “Is Yelena stopping by? The kids haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Eh, you know her. She might, she might not.” Natasha looked up at that, narrowing her eyes at him. Alexei put his hands up again. “I don’t know. She said she will try. I did not want to put the kids’ hopes up so I did not tell them.”

Natasha smirked. “That sounds like her.” She stood up and headed to the back door to see if she could spot Sarah and Steve. The little girl is sitting on the back of a pony, with Melina standing next to her with a hand perched on her back - although Natasha has a rising suspicion that the pony is a little bit too behaved for a regular farm animal. And Steve is - oh - now breaking logs in half. For what, Natasha isn’t sure, but all she knows is that he makes a damn good sight to see.

“I used to look like that, you know. Maybe even bigger.” Alexei, who Natasha didn’t notice have moved next to her, suddenly piped up, seemingly following her line of sight. “Your mom - you know, those years we lived here - she liked it, I could tell.” Natasha wrinkled her nose, frowning as she looked up at Alexei. “What, what? I’m just saying. He’s not the only super soldier in the house. I’m just saying. I put on some weight but I still look good, no? Melina still thinks so.”

“Okay, calm down. I don’t really need all the gory details.” Natasha shook her head, looking back at Steve. He’s almost through his pile of whole logs, his shirt now almost completely drenched in sweat.

“But that’s my point - there are still gory details,” Alexei winked at Natasha’s overly-dramatic shudder. “You know. If you two need more weekends alone, Melina and I don’t mind having the kids over. You just have to tell us.”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Natasha turned to meet Alexei’s eyes. “Ha ha, I get it. As weird as what you’re trying to say - thank you. I appreciate it, really.” He grinned, his right arm reaching around Natasha to envelop her in a one-arm hug. It took a while for Natasha to let Alexei start hugging her again, and once she did, he never let a moment to do so pass.

Natasha caught Sarah’s eyes when the latter looked up, waving with her free hand. She heard Sarah squeal and say something to Melina, who nodded at the little girl. Sarah brought her arms out and was lifted off the pony by her grandmother before making a mad dash to the back door where Natasha was standing. Alexei slid the door open just in time to hear the “Mommy!!!” screech coming from Sarah, with said little girl running into her mom’s open arms.

“Hi honey! How was your time at the zoo today?” Natasha asked while hugging Sarah tightly. The little girl hugged her back with all her might before letting go, excited to answer her mom’s question.

“I had so much fun! Grandma taught me about animals!”

“Go on, tell your mama which one is your favorite,” Alexei prodded, reaching down to help straighten Sarah’s hair.

“I liked the monkeys! They remind me of Rocky,” the girl replied, making Natasha sputter. Ah, yes. Sarah and her ever-fascination with Rocket Raccoon will never not amuse any of the other Avengers.

“Make sure to tell him that, honey,” Steve suddenly piped up, having walked back with Melina. He stood next to Natasha and planted to swift kiss to her lips.

Natasha wrinkled her nose, flicking his arm. “You stink, go shower after your son,” she waved him off, sending him laughing up to their room to get changed.

“And do you remember what animal group monkeys are a part of?” Melina asked, kneeling on one knee next to Sarah.

Sarah paused for a minute, scrunching up her brows in the same way as Steve often would when thinking - something Natasha would often tease him about - before answering. “Primates!”

This made Melina beam and kiss her forehead before standing up. “Very good, baby! You’re the smartest little girl I know!” she praised, making Sarah giggle. Turning to Natasha and Alexei, she inclined her head to the kitchen. “Come on, dinner should be ready soon.”

Once Steve and James got back and helped set the table, they all gathered around the table to eat. Melina made Borscht and Stroganoff - both of which are favorites of James and Sarah. They were laughing about how Sarah tried to ride one of the ponies at the zoo thinking it would be as tame as Melina’s pony, only to have it get spooked and run away when the doorbell rang. The adults all exchanged a look as Alexei stood up to answer the door.

“Who’s that grandma?” James asked, glancing up before taking a bite of his food.

“Your favorite aunt, it’s who!” A voice bellowed, followed by a tapping of feet.

“Auntie Yelena!” Both children chorused, rushing out of their seats to greet their aunt before she even reached the kitchen. “Fanny!” they squealed once the dog found them and started circling their feet.

Yelena walked into the kitchen with Sarah and James latched on both of her sides, Fanny following right on their heels. “Hello, everybody. Thanks for not waiting for me before eating,” she deadpanned.

“We didn’t even know you were coming.” Melina answered, scooping more soup into Steve’s bowl.

Yelena’s mouth dropped. “Natasha knew! I texted her. This is so unfair,” she huffed and sat down on the available seat next to Steve once the kids let go of her.

“What? I wanted it to be a surprise!” Natasha argued, smirking at her sister. “Isn’t that what you would’ve wanted?” she asked before eating a spoonful of Stroganoff. Yelena pouted, taking a piece of bread and biting into it.

Conversation flowed nicely throughout dinner, and it wasn’t until everyone moved into the living room while eating dessert did Yelena start braiding Sarah’s hair. “Are you ever going to color your hair, honey?” She asked, her fingers swiftly yet delicately weaving through the little girl’s hair.

“Oh please, Yelena, she’s six. Don’t give her any ideas,” Natasha waved her off, passing the bowl of ice cream to Steve.

Melina laughed, getting everyone’s attention. “It’s funny you say that, you know. Considering you would put temporary dyes in Yelena’s hair when you were younger. Not to mention your blue hair,” she nudged Alexei’s side, making him snort. “Remember?”

Steve looked at Natasha, his mouth dropping fractionally. “You had blue hair?” That got James’ attention too, as he turned to them from the TV.

Natasha narrowed her eyes at Melina before looking at Steve. “You’ve seen me with how many different hair colors already?”

“Yes, but that’s different because those are for missions, so it doesn’t mean the same. You had honest-to-god blue hair?” he tried asking again.

“Didn’t you bring the photo album with you, mama?” Yelena asked, looking up at Melina.

Melina nodded and stood up from the couch, plucking the album from one of her bookshelves. “Here, see?” She brought it over to where Steve and Natasha were sitting, setting it on the coffee table in front of them.

The photo album looked worn but the pictures were still clear, surprisingly. It contained the tale of their undercover family in Ohio, yet it all felt very real. Steve smiled softly at a young Natasha - he’s seen some of this pictures before, but the photobooth shots of a young her and Yelena have been new additions to the album. He figured they might have had it restored because it looked crisp and blown up.

“Wow, she wasn’t kidding. You did have blue hair,” he remarked, making Natasha glare at him. “What? It looks good! You looked so… punk.”

“She does have a flair for the dramatic,” Yelena agreed, tying Sarah’s braid in place. “There, all done! Show your mama.”

Sarah skipped to Natasha’s side, showing off her new braid and getting praises from her parents. She looked down to where everyone was looking at, noting the pictures for the first time. “Is that you, Aunt Yelena?” she pointed to a picture of a little girl holding a box in front of a tree.

Yelena knelt down next to the table to look at which photo she was pointing at and stifled a laugh. The ends of her hair in that picture have tints of pink in them, probably from one of Natasha’s so-called “experiments” back then - where she would usually test out a color on Yelena’s hair too before committing all of it on hers. She nodded at Sarah, “Yes, honey, that’s me. That’s your mom next to me.” she pointed at where a young Natasha was smiling brightly at the camera.

“Your hair looked like candy!”

Looking smug, Yelena leaned back to look at her sister in the eye, who was already shaking her head. “Well, honey, it’s a good thing your mom knows a lot about hair colors.”

Steve snorted at the inside joke between them just as Sarah started rattling off a list of colors she wants to try. It sounds like she might just be listing every color she can recall, but Yelena knows Natasha has at least found her new muse to experiment hair colors with.

[boneswriteswords]

Showers: Slasher Version (The Bois)

Hi, here is a thing. None of the writing is even. I don’t care. I struggled. 

Hope y’all like it. :) Its my usual crap quality. Also if there is someone you want me to add to these sorts of things, let me know. I just picked based on who I know best. 

Warning: Some of these are kinda NSFW. Like not really but its h i n t e d.

This is unedited and unbeta’d because we die like men here.

Jason Voorhees: 

Jason had issues with water. Even before you knew he was more than an urban myth, you figured he’d have major hang-ups being around water. His tragic drowning at the hands of cruel children and incompetent counselors would have given him lasting trauma around water. 

And you were right. 

However, you weren’t prepared for the hang-ups to extend to showers simply because it didn’t involve large bodies of water. Granted, he never needed to shower before. The only times the layers of grime slipped off his body were when it was raining and even then, he often took shelter in his cabin to avoid it. All water was bad water. 

That changed when you came around. He chose you to be loved by him. His mother encouraged him, telling him that you were his and you were there to love him and his mother has never been wrong before. 

She wasn’t this time either. You looked at him in all that he was and loved him so truly that his heart would have stuttered a beat if he had one. In turn, Jason’s diamond sharp focus centers on you, keeping you away from harm as best he can. He keeps you close to him, his world off-kilter when he can’t see you immediately. 

You had never felt so safe in your life, knowing he was there guarding you. Knowing he was killing to make sure you stayed safe.

To his dismay, however, he discovered that you liked water. You liked showers and baths. You liked swimming. You liked to sit on the porch and listen to the rain. You liked taking walks when the rain was light enough to not get completely drenched. You liked it all.

He hated it.

But he loved you.

And he trusted that you would never lead him into danger. 

“The water is warm. The steam rises and shrouds everything in a dream. The day washes from your body and prepares you for a new day. There is is healing in cleanliness,” you told him as you undressed one evening, unperturbed by his eyes roaming over your body. It wasn’t a new sensation, the feeling of his gaze on your naked body but it still delighted you.

Jason watched you as you turn the shower on and stepped inside.

His hunger for you stirred, clawing its way to the surface as he watched you squirt some delicious smelling concoction into your hands and lathered into your hair. He liked the way the suds slithered down your body. 

If he wanted to join you, he’d have to get in.

Slowly, he undressed and stepped inside behind you, your hand already reaching out for his.

Michael Myers:

Michael is not going to shower unless there is some benefit for him. If he feels inclined to bathe, he will just stand under the spray (or the rain) for a bit and call it a day. No scrubbing. No washing. No actual removal of anything other than the surface layer of gross. He doesn’t care all that much about how dirty he is. He’s just going to get dirty again.

That doesn’t mean he won’t join you when you shower. Michael is hedonistic; he does what he wants and searches for things that feel good to him. It is part of why he kills so much – it feels good to him. In the months after he followed you home and refused to leave, he found that he very much likes how it feels when you run your hands along his body with soapy water.

A lot about you makes him feel good – its why he’s keeping you alive and protected – but the sensations of warm water, small hands, and the different smells of your bathing products are at the top of the list.

He insists on being present during all your showers as a result.

You sighed at the familiar squeak of the shower door, the rush of cold air against your side, the grip on your wrist dragging you a step over towards the intruder.

“Hi Michael,” you sigh, wiping your eyes with your free hand so you can look up at him. His mask was still on, the steam from the shower not so intense that he felt the need to remove it this time, and his eyes pierced yours from behind it. He didn’t respond, he hardly ever did, but the hand griping your wrist brought it up and laid it on the soap.

You could feel your lips twitch as you lather it in your hands, “Where do you want me to start?”

Michael grunted, taking your wrist again and laying on his chest. You suppressed a grin. Michael didn’t like when you pointed out that he liked things and would stop doing them out of protest.

“Okay,” you whisper, the sound getting lost as you run your hands from the top of his shoulders to the dip of his waist, doing your best to ignore the soft contented grumbling vibrating under your hands. 

Brahms Heelshire:

Contrary to what you expected from him, Brahms loves to take baths and showers. He likes being warm above all else, having been forced to endure harsh cold weather during his years in the walls of his home. 

(You once asked him why he preferred to be running hot, given what happened to him, and, in a rare glimpse of Adult!Brahms, he told you he has issues with flames and not warmth. Warmth does not mean fire.) The showers and baths provide it in a way your arms can’t and he likes to revel in the sensation.

However, just because he likes it, doesn’t mean he is going to make your life any easier by getting in when you instruct him to. He is a brat and while he loves you more than any living that has ever or will ever exist, he loves to make your job taking care of him harder. You have to work for it. 

‘Its only fair,’ he tells himself, grinning behind his mask as you get the shower ready for him, scolding him as you do, ‘You made me love you without having to work for it. I continue to love you without you having to work for it. You have to work for something.’ 

“Okay Brahms, get in. Its nice and warm but not too hot. Time to get clean,” you say, stepping away from the shower, frowning when you see that he was still fully clothed. 

You sigh, “Brahms, we talked about this. You need to shower. Its been four days. You promised me.”

“No,” he stomped his foot, child voice in full effect, “I don’t want to.”

“Brahms -”

“No!”

“Brah-”

“No! No! NO!”

“Bra-”

“NOOOOOOOO!”

“Okay! Fine. No shower for Brahms,” you grumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose and his grin widens at your mounting frustration, “You can go now.”

He lets out a childish yell, grabbing your hand so you can play with him, but you stand firm when he tries to tug you along.

“Hey?!”

“Oh no Brahms. You may not want this shower,” you grin and his heart beats hard against his ribs, “But I do. You may go but I fully plan to enjoy this shower.”

You pause, letting go of his hand so you can remove the cardigan he had forced you into earlier in the day and letting it drop onto the floor. You start to work open the buttons on your shirt, taking a peek at him from under your lashes as you did.

“Its a shame that I’ll be in there all alone. We could have shared it but I guess I can’t make you now can I?”

Your shirt fell to the floor.

He knew he was being tricked. He knew this was a ploy to get him to bathe. He knew he was losing the game he started.

You slide your pants down your legs, your underwear going with it, and turn around. The length of your back, the dip of your spine as it curves into your ass, the little crease of flesh that he loves to stroke and bite....all open for his consumption. He watched as you reached behind, unsnapping your bra and peeling it away from you.

Fuck it, he decided as he pulled his cardigan off, he’ll just have you work for something else. 

Bubba Sawyer:

Baby Boi Sawyer is a sweaty boy. He is a hard working man. He works on the property during the morning, cuts and prepares the meat during the afternoon, cooks dinner in the evening, and passes at night out most days. Bathing was something he didn’t do as much as one should simply because of how impractical it was. 

And, a lot of the time, there wasn’t any decently tempered water left after his brothers showered. Drayton always got first dibs because he ‘worked out of the home and needed to look presentable.’ 

Bubba immediately took up a better hygiene routine when he met you. Short showers in the morning. Two rinses in the afternoon depending on what you were doing that day (he’d skip them if you were at the gas station for the day). A longer shower before dinner. There was a bar of soap in one of the pockets of his apron at all times. 

You quickly became family to the Sawyers, accepting and falling into their lifestyle seamlessly with little to no bitching from Drayton.

And under no circumstances did he want you to think he was stinky. He was already struggling with the fact that you’d think he was ugly and dumb. He couldn’t change his face - the masks helped hide it but he knew there was no fixing what was underneath - and he couldn’t change his inability to speak - he tried so hard to learn so you’d think he was smart but he just couldn’t make the words come out - but he could change how he smelled. 

You also seemed to like to seek him out during the day, bringing out fresh lemonade and snacks so he was forced to take a break from his work and chat with you. 

Bubba loved it. He loved you.

But he hated it. He hated himself.

He had to work and when he worked, he sweat and when he sweat, he stunk and if he stunk, you wouldn’t like him. He was anxious, tipping around you throughout the day to wash down and decrease the smell before you found him. He had never been so paranoid in his life.

It was only a matter of time before you caught him off guard though.

It was the best day of his life. 

Not only did you not mind the smell (“Bubby, sweetest of men, you work all day outside in the heat. You sweat. I’d be surprised if you didn’t have a bit of smell”), but you told him you thought he was attractive (“You are literally so attractive when you’re working and covered in dirt. Its not fair.). You leaned into him, paying no attention to the dampness of his clothing and how some of it transferred onto yours, and gave him a kiss, paying even less attention to the sweat above his upper lip. You leaned into him during dinner - the first time he hadn’t showered beforehand since knowing you -, pressing into him as close as possible while eating and interlocked your leg with his under the table.

But the best part was when you pulled him into the shower when the day’s work was done and scrubbed him clean, smiling into his mouth as you did. 

Bo Sinclair:

Showers are one of the few places where Bo can be soft with you. In public, he maintains a carefully crafted visage of a stereotypical tough guy. Toxically masculine. Overly rough. Dominating. Borderline violent in every twitch of his brow and flex of his fingers. Bo would rather chew his own tongue off than admit he was anything softer than a rock.

But you knew better.

In private, away from the prying eyes of the living and the dead, he becomes pliable, veneer slipping away from where it’s settled in the tension in his shoulders and clench of his jaw. His touch loosens into a grip less desperate. He breathes deeper. 

He folds into you like clay, allowing you to guide him. He relaxes in your arms and allows everything to drift away. Nothing can get him. Not his victims. Not his responsibilities. Not his mother. Not his trauma. 

He is safe.

Showers were a way he could let you know that he was feeling vulnerable, that he needed to get away to break. The shower was a place where no one will follow. In the months following the birth of your relationship, it became a way for him to communicate to you what his needs were. 

And you adapted. 

So when he barges into the house, huffing and growling with murder in his eyes, and says he needs a shower, you know what he means and what you need to do. 

You get in the shower first, going through the motions of washing you hair, and push open the glass door you hear the rustling of his clothes. You let him lean on you, first gripping onto you from behind, and then turning to look into his eyes. 

The shower fills the room with steam and in the blur, he will break and you will put him back together. 

Vincent Sinclair:

This man has no concept of time. He lives in his basement and gets so wrapped into his projects that the world fades to background noise. He barely takes the time between the wax town and his own art pieces to sleep so taking a shower is very much not a priority for him. 

He will if he must. There have been times when a victim gets too close and things end up bloodier than intended. Vincent does not like how blood gets tacky on his skin. 

Other than that, he won’t. Its not to be gross, he just has no idea of how much time passes between one shower and the next and he’s rather work in the basement.

He does argue with you about it because of that. After three days, the stank will start to become prominent when you breathe near him. After four days, the stank becomes visible. After the fifth day, you get involved because his smell literally wakes you up from a dead sleep. 

You’ve mastered the art of arguing with him though so its not too bad. You go into the basement and tell him he needs a shower. He’ll grunt. You will reiterate that he promised he would take more showers, because he had. He’ll agree that he did but it is not time for a shower. He just took one. You will bring out the calendar you use to mark when he showers - one of your only big fights involved not having proof of when he last showered so you got a calendar and marked it together - and count the number of days between the last mark and the current day.

(You can and will get Bo to confirm what day it is currently. He thinks all of it is stupid but no one asked him)

He will realize that he is wrong, apologize, and shower before its time for bed. You rarely ever join him. Vincent considers showering to be a very private activity and his insecurities about his face and body are something you and him work on every day. He is fine with you seeing him as he is in dim lighting but the bright florescent lights in the bathroom are a different story and you respect him.

(You wonder if the bright lights in the bathroom are part of the reason why he avoids showering but its something you won’t bring up just yet.)

When he comes out, damp and warm and smelling nice, you wrap him up in your arms and hide away in your duvets until the sun comes up and Vincent will whisper thank-yous into your skin. 

Thomas Hewitt:

Thomas was used to not bathing as often as he’d want. Between the hot Texas sun, the heavy-duty (and often bloody) work he did on a daily basis, and the lack of hours in the day, taking a shower was on the low end of his priorities list. He’d rather catch 20 minutes more of sleep.

After your relationship got more physical, he made showering a larger priority for the simple fact that he likes to wipe your body down. Especially after sex. He likes to hold you so you are facing the water and he can press his entire body against your back. Grabbing the body wash – something you introduced to him-, he’ll lather it up and run it over your body until the only thing left on your flesh are his marks.

You are so small compared to him. He loves to watch how his hands encompass and grip your flesh, pressing into the proof of your love for him, the trust you give him.

“Oooo,” you breathe, leaning back even further into the wall of man behind you. Thomas’s hands dipped lower, fanning out over your thighs and you could feel the beginnings of renewed arousal. He purposely avoided your cunt and you knew he was unsure if you were feeling sore. “That’s feels nice, lovely.”

A deep grunt. He’d never admit it but he loved when you called him lovely. There was something precious in the way you cooed the word at him that caused his knees to buckle. His hands moved up to your waist, pressing and searching. He grabbed your breasts and your returning whimper was lost in the sound of the spray. You could feel him at the small of your back, hot and heavy but he made no move to buck into you.

He could, if he was inclined. He could lift you up and fit you on him with ease, forcing his way into your body like a sword in a sheath. You knew it. He knew it.

But he wouldn’t.

Not without your consent.

Not without your permission.

Gripping one of his hands in your significantly smaller ones, you lowered it back down, cooing at the stretch of his fingers dipping inside of you and gave him all the permission he needed.

~~~~

End

~~~~

[nonbinary-renfri]

inspired by this post by @elliestormfound

It’s Lambert’s turn to cook dinner tonight for the witchers wintering in the keep and he’s feeling rather inspired, after Geralt and Eskel went ice fishing and came back with four lovely large trout. Going down to the root cellar while the other two witchers were taking care of the gutting and cleaning and de-scaling of the fish out in the yard, Lambert picked out some onions and some potatoes and some garlic. He also took a container of the goat milk butter they’d started making after Eskel had insisted on getting the keep its own mini goat herd. The animals themselves were stinky, ungrateful bastards, but even Lambert would admit having the fresh milk was nice. Once they finally figured out this goat cheese thing, it’d be even nicer.

But for now Lambert’s heading back upstairs with a basket full of potatoes and onions and garlic and is greeted by some absolutely beautiful fish fillets laid out on the kitchen counter. A lesser man- such as many high-class chefs with their fancy restaurants in the cities- might shed a tear at the sight of such divine knife work. Lambert is so glad Eskel let Geralt do the filleting this time.

He dices onions and garlic and preps the potatoes, washing them and piercing them in several places with a knife. The wood-stove is already lit, doing its best to spread fingers of warmth through Kaer Morhen’s cold stones. Opening up two of the burners, Lambert plunks down a pair of heavy iron saucepans onto the stove. He makes two batches of an onion-butter sauce, one with garlic and one without. While that’s simmering, he seasons the fish with rock salt that he’s fairly certain Vesemir collects and grinds himself, and then divides the fillets out evenly between two baking pans. Lambert pours the sauce over the fish before sliding them, along with the potatoes, into the large oven to slow cook.

With some time to kill, he washes the dishes he’s created so far and then starts poking around in the kitchen cabinets. He finds things he knew were there, like shelves filled with jars of different spices and a section dedicated to baking supplies, and things he didn’t, like glass bottles of apple cider in a bottom cupboard. Lambert uncorks one and sniffs it, and, yep, that is apple cider and it’s still fairly fresh too, probably squeezed and bottled by Vesemir this past autumn. He doesn’t think the old man will mind awfully if Lambert commandeers some of it; it’s for a good cause, and it’s not like Vesemir won’t also get a share of it.

Putting a larger pot on the stove top, Lambert mixes up a hot drink made with apple cider, a splash of squeezed fruit juice, and spices. Sticks of cinnamon and dried orange and lemon slices float in bubbling amber liquid as it simmers on the burner. Dinner will be done before the wassail is, but that’s alright; they can have it as a nice follow-up afterwards.

Lambert glances up from stirring the drink as Vesemir enters the kitchen. The old witcher is carrying a basket with fresh broccoli from the winter garden, tiny bits of ice glimmering on green buds from being washed outdoors in the cold. Taking a deep breath in, he smiles appreciatively. “It smells delicious.” Yellow irises find the bottles of apple cider out on the countertop. “Ah. I see you got into my juice stores.”

“For a good cause, old man.”

Vesemir’s nostrils flare as he leans towards the pot. “Yes, indeed. An after-dinner treat?”

How does he always know these things. “Yeah,” Lambert admits.

“Would you be willing to trust me to watch over your handiwork for a bit? I thought I would add broccoli to the menu tonight, but the table in the hall could really use a wipe down before we sit down to eat.”

“Sure, I can go do that. Stir the pot on the stove occasionally and don’t fucking burn my food, okay?”

Vesemir acquiesces with a nod and waves the younger witcher out the door.

The table is rather dusty and bread crumb-covered from a multitude of meals, so Lambert wipes it down with a dry cloth and then a wet one. He also takes the opportunity to set the table, putting out plates and silverware for all the witchers, though not in the pompous, shitty way a noble household would. Just a fork and a knife, thank you very much. The butter dish and the ceramic howling wolf salt and pepper shakers Eskel had brought back one winter go on the table too. Vesemir keeps his eyes on the broccoli he has searing on the stove as Lambert comes in and out of the kitchen, pretending not to notice as the younger snags napkins for the table that he knows will be neatly folded beside their plates. And he thinks they don’t know that he cares.

Eventually all the food is done cooking and the old witcher lets Lambert take care of the plating of things, helping him carry the platters of roast potatoes and fish and broccoli into the hall. The smells must reach the other witchers in the keep as Geralt and Eskel quickly appear at the door, dressed in clean clothes with cheeks pink-flushed and the slightly spicy-sweet scent from the witch hazel soap they keep in the hot springs wafting off of them.

“Wow, that smells good,” Eskel comments. Geralt’s nostrils flare in agreement and the two are quick to take their usual seats at the table, eagerly eyeing the spread in front of them.

As soon as Vesemir fills his plate, the rest of them are free to dig in as well. Scenting the air, mouth partway open, Geralt gravitates towards the fish without garlic and scoops a good chunk onto his plate. Eskel takes a smaller piece from the same pan and a similar one from the other as well. Like Vesemir, Lambert takes a big serving of the fish with garlic. They all take potatoes and cut them open, steam wafting into the air from the well-cooked soft white insides. Goat butter melts quickly from the heat and they sprinkle rock salt on top of potatoes now drenched in gold. Broccoli joins the rest of the food on their plates and they eat in silence for a while, too hungry from the day’s work and grateful for a good meal to have the wherewithal to interrupt it with conversation.

Eventually though, as Vesemir and Geralt go back for second servings of their preferred fish and Eskel takes more broccoli, they find themselves able to take their concentration enough off the food to talk.

“Thank you for making dinner, Lambert,” Geralt says, because sometimes he can be a polite bastard. Lambert suspects it has something to do with all that time the white-haired man spends around a certain uppity sorceress.

“Yeah, thanks,” Eskel parrots, talking through a mouthful of potato because he doesn’t have a questionable influence in his life to teach him courtly manners. “’S delicious.”

Vesemir nods in agreement. “Quite.”

Resisting the urge to shrug off the praise, Lambert pretends the tips of his ears aren’t turning red. “Mhmm. Yeah. Uh. You’re welcome, I guess.” He remembers the wassail he has simmering in the kitchen still, and takes the excuse to flee the room. “Hot drinks, for after dinner. Should be done, so I’ll, uh, go get them.” Getting up and walking away, he waits until he’s completely out of eyesight of the others, because Vesemir would somehow fucking know if he didn’t, before he lets the bubbling warm feeling in his chest spill onto his face. He smiles the entire walk back to the kitchen.

Returning with a big wooden pitcher full of hot wassail that drifts the sweet scents of apples, citrus, and spices into the air with curls of steam, he pours it into the mugs gathered at the far end of the table, placing one in front of each witcher.

Vesemir, the madman, doesn’t even blow on his before gulping down a large mouthful. He swallows and immediately goes back for a second, humming his approval.

Slightly more cautious, Eskel blows on the surface of his drink before trying it. His face changes to a contemplative look and then he nods, seemingly in approval.

Geralt takes a sip from his mug with an unreadable expression. Lambert watches him carefully, knowing the other witcher can’t stand to drink apple cider on its own. Taking another sip, Geralt lets out a quiet grunt.

Lambert’s voice gets ahead of his head. “So? Is it good?” Shit shit shit way too pushy, what, do you need validation or something-

Shrugging, Geralt says, like he’s simply stating a fact, “Everything you make is good.”

There is a pleased yet embarrassed heat rising in Lambert’s cheeks, because Geralt doesn't say nice things when he doesn't mean them. “Fuck you.” Dammit, why can’t he be the kind of person who just goes speechless in moments like this.

Geralt doesn’t reply, but he’s smiling in that tiny way he thinks is unnoticeable, with the very corners of his lips and the tilt of his eyebrows, or something. The white-haired witcher doesn’t go back for seconds of the hot drink like Eskel does, or fourths like Vesemir, but he finishes the mug that Lambert poured for him, which is compliment enough in the younger’s opinion.

It’s a good night, he thinks, as they finish their drinks and Geralt and Eskel take the dishes back to the kitchen to scrub them clean. Even better as they all pile into the study, with it’s warm wooden walls and bearskin rugs a ballast against the winter’s chill. They quickly have a fire burning bright in the hearth, and the room becomes cozy and comfortable. Vesemir settles into his armchair with the old bestiary he’s currently annotating and the three younger witchers tangle together in a pile on the fur splayed before the fire. They wrestle lazily for a bit before sprawling out drowsily, serene and drifting somewhere close to sleep.

In the early hours of the next morning the armchair is empty, bestiary shut neatly on the accent table beside it, and the fire has reduced itself to cold ashes. Lambert wakes up to white hair tickling his nose and his feet tangled with Eskel’s, the other man’s calves laying on top of Geralt’s knees. Soft fur brushes his chin from the bearskin that had been spread over the three of them sometime in the night, keeping them warm beneath it with their combined body heat long after the fire had died out. There’s no window in this room but Lambert has a feeling it’s still not late enough for them to need to get up, so he lies there with his eyes closed, simply enjoying the weight and warmth of his brothers beside him.

[segafan37]

Shadamy Snippets: Pain, Pain, Go Away

[Amy's POV]

Wet. Cold. I'm wet and cold.

My teeth chattered, and my body shook from the freezing temperatures that seemed to only surround me. Despite my body's protests, I quickened my pace. The ominous sound of heel meeting tile echoed behind me, but I shook the fear away and kept moving.

I can't look back. I can't face it now. My only mission was to get to warmth... And far. Away. From her.

I slammed the door unintentionally, but I didn't care much. Leaning my back against the door, I sighed a breath of relief.

"What a day." I moaned.

I dully looked about my apartment, then eyed my reflection being displayed from the mirror at the end of the hall. My hair, clothes, face, and body were drenched. My schoolbag, which I just registered was being smothered under my grip, was just as wet. I relaxed my hand and took a peek inside it. Thankfully, its contents were dry.

I sighed, with another moan.

"I am never going to listen to the morning forecast, again!"

I slouched to the floor as the events leading up to my unfortunate state kept playing over and over in my mind.

~ FLASHBACK ~

After chatting it up with Shadow, I had decided to take the bus home. A light rain had begun to fall when I had entered the bus. I didn't think much of it though. I just took a seat next to a window and watched the rain descend.

As I sat further into my seat, a foul smell reached my nose. My face turned up, and I quickly covered it, not at all being discreet. I tried to search for the source of the stench and soon realized it was coming from the purple fabric that covered my chair!

I turned in my seat to study the fabric closer and saw a large outline of an old stain. I cringed. I had a good sniffer and accidentally got a whiff of it too.

It smelled like a mixture of rotten tuna fish and BO. EW!! I was horrified. More trauma occurred when I realized the ends of my hair had just rested on that spot.

Quickly, I collected my belongings and went to take a seat on the other side of the bus. I wrapped my hair up into a tight bun and gazed at my old seat. I shuddered in disgust.

I can't wait to get my own vehicle!

The rain turned into a heavy downpour, as I settled into my new quarters. My stop was three blocks away from my apartment. I had no umbrella or jacket, and I knew if I didn't hustle, I would be soaked to the bone. Once the bus came to my stop, I moved as fast as my legs would allow, but it wasn't enough to prevent my current state.

Since our elevator stopped working, I had to use the stairwell and walk up the many flights to my apartment floor. I shivered and grumbled all the way there, only stopping to give a gloomy "Hey" or an occasional "Hi" to passersbys.

My attitude quickly changed when I felt her presence. I kept myself at a steady pace, not daring to look down at the person a few flights behind me.

I could feel her eyes piercing into me and sending all kinds of negative emotions. I was relieved when I reached my floor and my apartment, which laid at the end of the hall. When I was just entering my home, I could hear the stairwell door opening.

~ END OF FLASHBACK ~

"Well, at least she can't hurt me in here." I resolved.

Wow. That was pathetic, but I didn't care. It was the only thing that was keeping me happy.

I clenched my teeth, trying to control my chattering. I still hadn't gotten warm yet. I wondered what would be the fastest way for me to get warm. I hugged myself and looked about my home as if the answer was hidden amongst my belongings.

Maybe I should make some tea and stand by the fireplace? On second thought, a mocha sounds better! But hot chocolate is faster... Or perhaps I should take a shower?

A faint sound of a door slamming a few apartments down came to my ears. From where I crouched, I could hear yelling. It was hard to make out, but I could just interpret some of their conversation.

"That's it! I want that woman out of this apartment!"

"Martha, what's wrong!?"

"I've had it with her, John! I'm calling Jasmine. She needs to go!"

I leaned the back of my head against my door and groaned, gazing up at the ceiling.

Seriously! Now, she's trying to get her cousin to throw me out!? How could she do this to me! Wasn't her tongue lashing enough!?

I closed my eyes, as the balls of my fists tightened. I wanted a memory wipe; to forget everything that had happened, but I couldn't stop thinking about that horrible woman!

I sighed. How could a day so good, turn so wrong!?

An unpleasant smell reached my nose, and I realized that it was coming from me.

Yeah, I'll go for the shower.

With a huff, I slipped off my boots and socks, leaving them at the entrance with my schoolbag, and headed towards my bedroom.

Water dripped off my face and clothes, as I stumbled through my bedroom door. My once tight bun was now lop-sided and unraveling, and a mixture of rain, sweat, and stinky feet fumed from my body. I was a complete mess! I moaned again.

My conscious noted that I was doing a lot of that lately, to which I replied with an eye roll and another moan.

Do you really think that doing that will help you? My conscious questioned. If anything, you should go talk to her and get some closure instead of moaning and -

"Fine! Alright, already!" I conceded, silencing my little voice, and walked away into my bathroom. "I'll talk with her. But later."

I turned on the shower, and heated vapors soon filled the room. Steam engulfed me, as warm droplets washed away my pain. I closed my eyes and inhaled the warm steam, as my mind slowly brought me back.

I could see myself standing on the stage greeted by a roaring applause. My friends' whoops and cheers above them all! The initial shock I had, when my friends told me of the live-stream video they did, and the crazy comments towards Sonic. There was also my chance encounter with Shadow and the lovely chat we had! He actually gave me a lot to think about...

I even had a peaceful moment on the bus listening to the rain, before I discovered the stench. A chuckle escaped my lips. That was kind of funny now that I think about it.

I opened my eyes, still daydreaming. The shower water reminded me of the raindrops that trailed down my passenger window. I could just hear them, beating against the roof of the bus.

I didn't mind the rain. Some people thought of it as a bad thing or a nuisance, but I liked it... if I didn't get caught in it.

These were good memories. The right ones to think about. Everything was perfect! Then the heavy downpour came and her along with it.

I thought of how she approached me. Her face showed nothing but self-righteousness and reproach, and her eyes were full of hatred towards me. But for what! I never did anything to her, except exist! She thinks I'm the villain in this story, but I'm not!

Our conversation was short, but her words pierced like a knife!

To think my husband and I thought you were a decent young lady! We trusted you, brought you into our home, fed you! Thinking that we were being hospitable to a sweet young lady. All the while, we were being tricked by your pretty little face!.. and sadly, your little plan worked. But we see you for who you are now... a cunning, deceitful, little temptress!

.

.

.

Excerpt from Shadamy fanfic “12 Years Later: A New Dawn”. YOu can read the rest of this chapter and more on Wattpad, DeviantArt, Quotev, or Webnovel.

[imtheasssniffer]

The Little Things

(Before I start, I was feeling a different fantasy today, so this story is gonna have macrophilia. If that’s not your thing sorry).

You walked into your bedroom, and saw your boyfriend Alvin laying in bed; propped up, almost expectantly. Without a second thought you jumped face first into his plushy ass. Landing in his masculine aroma. You inhaled the ass funk on his thong and moaned.

“Hey babe, how’re you doing?” You asked. Although you’d been home you haven’t seen eachother all day. You have been in your office. Working and taking work calls.

“I’m good now that you’re here,” he replied. “I was beginning to think you forgot about me.” He said this playfully. You sounding offended in return said,

“I could never never forget about you.” You then kissed his cheeks sensually. Alvin looked back at you and nodded, grabbing your head and pulling your hair. He pushed your head into his ass.

PrrrRLlRrrRrlLlRrrBbbbBttttTt

Alvin pushed an 8 second fart out, it sounded bubbly and wet, and it smelt even more atrocious than it sounded. It smelt like fish and raw meat! Even though it was vile. You inhaled as much as you could, and as you did. You could feel your body change. You could feel your body slip out of your clothes as you shrunk. Gripping his ass. Until your hands were too small to grab the mounds of fat.

You looked up to see two tan hills rise above you. You stood on the soft fabric of his thong. Every smell from before, from fart to his sweaty must was greatly amplified now that you stood completely submerged in this valley of pure stink. You heard Alvin speak,

“Ayo babe, just remembered you asked for this, and it only wears off in twelve hours. So don’t die, or hate me by the time this is over.”

With that, you felt his thong start to warm up.

PpPpppPhhHhhRrrRrRrrrrRrttTt

You stood right above his asshole as he let out a 15 second blast. You felt hot air burst all around you. Causing your hair to fly up. It smelt like manure with the rotten meat smell from earlier.

It was too much for you. All you could smell and taste was his fart, and there was nothing else for you to breathe in. Your vision got blurry, because the sulfur burnt your eyes causing you to tear up. The last thing you heard was your boyfriend yawn before you passed out.

As your were passed out Alvin covered himself with the thick duvet and dozed off. After all it was late, and shrinking you was tiring. You woke up to an intense quaking. Luckily for you it was only snoring this time. Alvin always snored, loudly. It usually drove you crazy, but that wasn’t your focus now. The smell was rancid he must’ve been farting in his sleep, and letting it all collect underneath the duvet. That would also explain the intense heat.

PpRrhhhTttTt

Alvin let out a small 3 second poot. You were able to stay conscious, but barely. You could already tell it was going to be a long night.

Eventually after taking what seemed like hundreds of his sleep toots. You decided to start voyaging your his head. Maybe you could talk him out of this and be fine. After hours of trekking you had only made it to the crest of his back. It was polling with sweat, it almost seemed like a swamp. His must made you horny, but you were too determined to think about sex as you charged forth. On your way up his back you heard his alarm go off. Excited you started to run. When you heard the alarm finally stop you started to scream his name, but he didn’t here you.

Instead he started to get up. As he started to sit up you started to slide down his back. The sweat only aiding in this. Then he stood up, straight. This made you fall all the way back down. You were falling into his ass! As you neared it you reached for his thong, but you were too weak and ended up falling into the waistband. You felt dirty. His ass was grimy, since he hadn’t showered in a couple of days. To make matters worse he bent over to pick something up, causing his ass cheeks to spread and you to fall deeper. You were now deep in his crack. It was hot, moist, grimey, and most notably stinky. As he stood back up his cheeks squeezed you. Holding you tight. There was no way you were gonna get out.

You heard a gurgling noise come from Alvins insides and a painful groan leave his mouth. You then felt him lift his right leg. Pinching you tighter is his ass, as well as rub even more grime on you.

BbbbBBRrrrRrrrPpPppPTttTtt

Alvins morning farts were legendary. This one lasted 19 seconds, and it was pure hell. His farts smelt even worse than ever. It could’ve been that there was no filter between you and his farts, or the fact that his ass had been marinating in these intoxicicatingly putrid farts all night.

“Ahhh,” he sighed. “I hope you’re still alive babe. You got a lot more ti to go.” The words sent shivers down your spine. Partly because that was the sexy, and most terrifying thing you had ever heard.

You then felt his left leg shift. Followed by his right. He started walking. You knew where he was headed. After a couple of moments of Alvin walking in a tired stupor. He stopped. You heard him hit a light switch. And then you felt his thong move. It pushed you lower into his ass. Even closer to his asshole. As the thong finished dragging you along his crack. You heard a thick gushing stream, and then a light splashing. He was peeing, and every time he peed he would also,

PppPppRrrRrrPppPhHhhHhTttTtt

Alvin let out a gradual, yet loud and rancid fart as he peed. It ended up lasting 23 seconds. He must’ve drank a lot, or he just wanted to prolong your suffering. You started to go unconscious again, but you did cum. He said something, but you had already tuned out. He flushed the toilet and left.

Alvin made breakfast and ate for a little, by the time you regained consciousness he had already finished and was sitting on the couch. You had completely fallen underneath him and felt his asshole right against your back. He must’ve know this, and felt you wake up.

“Uh oh, guess who woke up on the wrong side of my ass. Time for breakfast.” You didn’t have time to process anything! He just farted.

BBbbRrRrrpPppttTtppPptttT

His fart was disgusting it only lasted 7 seconds, but it was by far the worst. The hot air pushed directly against your back. Making you feel as if you were in a sauna. Not to mention his farts had a greasy smell to them now, it smelt like a trash fire. It smelled so bad, you couldn’t pass out you had to sit in it until you ran out of oxygen. Then you passed out once more. You spent the rest almost the rest of the day asleep. In your warm moist and stinky prison. You woke up to the sink running. Alvin was washing dishes. He wasn’t farting, but it was still disgusting. He must’ve sat for a while, because his thong was drenched in sweat. And it stank of his 5 day old must, and past fart rampages. Your body was held tightly right underneath his hole.

“Are you ready babe? I can’t hear you!” He chuckled making his cheeks bounce. You almost cried, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Oh fuck,” you heard him moan.

FffFffffFfttTttttTttTtpPpppptTt

A 12 second fart erupted out of his ass. It was the loudest by far, but it didn’t smell that bad. As it ended your body started to feel tingly. You felt your limbs grow. His thong started to sag with the additional weight as your body slowly started to get bigger. You then heard a ripping sound as your body ripped his thong causing you to fall to the floor. You say there contemplating all that had happened to you, and with your head in Alvins ass he said,

“Oh someone wants more I see.”

PppPprrRrrrRFFftTtttttBbbbBtTt

[loubuggins]

Volun-told

My first Blue Exorcist fic! Let me know how it is! Based on the anime.

If someone had stopped to ask her how she had found herself in this situation, there would be no simple answer she could give. Except maybe giving them a name. Rin Okumura.

It had started with their mission assignment. It was a simple scouting task, something two exwires could easily accomplish. According to Shura, all they had to do was go to the local animal shelter and look for a demon disguising itself as a common dog. At least that's what the report said. They were not to engage with the demon. Only look at the dogs at the shelter and report back their findings. A very easy, very boring job. But of course, nothing could be dull with Okumura.

One look at the dogs lined up in a neat row of cages and the tough exterior of bad-boy Okumura melted into a bleeding heart. The demon boy instantly fell in love with each and every puppy-dog face that looked back at him. He did not even try to contain his excitement at being surrounded by a bunch of dogs. He stopped at each cage and cooed at each dog inside. All of the dogs were up and coming as close to them as they could with the chain-link doors in-between them. They barked loudly, making her head pound, but she tried to ignore it.

Rin was all over the dogs. Talking sweetly to them and slipping his fingers through the fencing to pet each pooch. He tried to talk her into joining him, but she turned down his offer each time. She was more of a cat person. Besides, they were on a mission and this was beginning to take too long. She tried to coax him away from the fourth dog he stopped to play with, but her words had no effect on the boy. He began talking about adopting all the dogs, saying things along the lines of "they deserve homes" and "I could take care of them all."

She quickly squashed those silly thoughts. There was no way they were taking home all these dogs. It was completely impractical. But it was the hurt look in his eyes that had put her in their current situation.

Having been denied the chance to save the dogs, she had felt sympathetic for him. Maybe she was growing soft, but there was something about the sad look in his blue eyes that pulled at her own heartstrings. So she offered an alternative. She simply suggested that if he really wanted to help the dogs, he could come on his own time to volunteer at the shelter. Sure, she left out the on his own time part, but she had assumed that was implied. Boy was she wrong.

As soon as the words had left her mouth, his face lit back up. He jumped up and before she could stop him, he had left to go hunt down the first worker he could find to offer his services. To make matters worse, he had volunteered her as well.

And that's how she found herself, in the back of an animal shelter washing an oversized dog in a too-small bathtub. With Rin Okumura.

"Isn't this so much fun, Izumo!" The boy cheered as he scrubbed soap into the dog's head.

Izumo just glared at him. Her school uniform was completely drenched and her sweater stuck to her chest. She had bubbles in her hair with her braids lose and some strands sticking to her face. She was as red as a tomato, fuming over her current predicament.

But the boy beside her either did not notice or did not care. He was happily washing the large, shaggy dog, humming as he scrubbed. It was infuriating.

"You idiot!" She finally snapped. "I can't believe I let you drag me into your stupid shenanigans."

"Shenanigans?" He peeked over the dog to look at her with a raised eye, humor in his voice.

"We should have left by now! There's obviously no demon here. But instead, I'm stuck washing the butt-end of a stinky mutt in a completely ruined uniform!" She shouted and gestured to her soaked clothes.

Rin stopped what he was doing to take a good look at the girl. She really was a mess, but so was he. His shirt and pants were covered in water, soap, and dog hair. His white shirt clung to his body much like her's. He couldn't help but be a little disappointed that she still wore her sweater over top of her shirt, blocking what he was sure was her now see-through top. He also couldn't stop thinking about how cute she actually looked with her hair dripping wet.

He flashed her a toothy grin. "You look cute to me!"

He went right back to washing the dog, not giving her time to respond. Not that she could. She was left stunned. She was red from a blush now and shook her head.

"It doesn't matter. We failed our mission and got nothing to show for it."

Rin frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"We didn't find the demon, stupid!"

"Yeah," He said slowly, "but we helped all these dogs get a nice clean look. The manager said these baths help dogs to get adopted. We're helping little guys like this one find new homes." He rubbed the dog's head and made a silly face at him.

"I...suppose." She ceded. "But why do you care so much anyway?"

Her question made him freeze. His face twisted and his voice lowered. "Because I...I know what it's like, not to be wanted."

Izumo didn't know what to say, so she just lamely blinked at him.

"If I can help these guys to get new homes, then that's like finding them a family."

"Okay." The purple-haired girl spoke up suddenly.

Rin looked at her curiously. "Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll help you. Let's finish this job." And with that, she rolled up her sleeves and grabbed the hose. She began rinsing the dog, ignoring the puzzled look on the boy's face.

"Well, are you going to just stand there, or are you going to help me out?"

With a shake of his head, he snapped out of his daze and grabbed hold of the dog to keep him from moving around too much while Izumo rinsed him off.

"And by the way," She mentioned to him. "You're wanted, Rin."

His eyes grew wide as he mumbled a thank you and left it at that. They were both quiet after that as he was left to wonder what she meant.

[berrymeter]

hi everyone this is my first fic be nice to me <3

in which y/n gets to bully mark tuan for free - somewhere over 1k words

It’s getting a little late, isn’t it ? You check your watch— just kidding, you don’t have one. What year is it, 2006 ? Don’t make me laugh. Rather than a clock bracelet conveniently placed around your wrist you lower your eyes to the bottom right corner of your laptop to confirm your suspicions… Ah, yes, the passage of time. You spent the entire damn afternoon scrolling through social media like some kind of zoomer-millennial-loser, again. (Chances are you’re one.) Still that doesn’t negate the fact that it is assuredly late now ; shouldn’t that passive aggressive twink-passing dude be back by now ?

Okay, it’s not that late. Just about time for dinner, the good ol’ almost-nine in the evening. Realistically you shouldn’t be complaining, you never actually have dinner with your problematic roommate nor do you eat dinner at an appropriate time yourself, but you open your notes app nonetheless and add another bullet point to your list: “Things I Get To Throw In His Face When We Have An Argument”. Build up your arsenal and release it all when the time is right, that’ll show him. An exaggerated sigh escapes your lips. Is it so hard to be punctual, after all ? He told you he’d be back by eight ! You’d planned to watch a movie together ! Not that it ever amounted to anything since an argument always broke out mid-film, but plans were nice every once in a while. You bite your bottom lip in annoyance, zoning out for a brief few seconds ( minutes ? Are you aware of time ? I’m not) as your eyes lose focus over the screen emitting all that nasty blue light, before deciding to just brush it off – at the very least, until he gets there. Once the door opens, it’s on. Some more scrolling and it gets you thinking, since your brain doesn’t have much better to do while he’s not here to get his ass jumped by you. You think. You think about how you referred to him as a “twink-passing” dude just a few paragraphs earlier. (You are currently in the mind of the narrator. I get to be y/n.) Why so ? Well, very simply, a twink would refer to a man who engages in romantic relationships with other men, or would at least be willing to. You’re unsure whether he would consider it. He sure looks like you could snap him like a twig though, so you call him a twink anyway. What’s he going to do ? Punch your kneecaps ? (Even if you are short, I, the writer, am shorter than you. I am offering you the ability to be taller than Mark Tuan. Use it wisely.) You think a little further, and think of how ‘twink’ has been used so many times as a joke, like it’s a funny insult. Is it right ? Are we not taking the term seriously enough ? You drop that train of thought soon enough. It doesn’t matter: twinks should be bullied. What convinced you of this is that twink from that NCT group, the one with the monosyllabic name. You nod to yourself. Yes, twinks should undeniably be bullied. (Note that I am a twink too, it’s okay, relax, I’m not calling for twink oppression. I mean I kinda am actually tho.) Within a few more seconds, your eyelids start to slip shut. Ah… What was that about the zoomer-millennial-loser thing ? You know it’s not easy these days to be productive, to find things you enjoy when you’re not in the right headspace, and being in the right headspace is not easy itself either. Work is tiring. You need those bucks, though. You struggle to work and then on your day off you scroll through social media. It doesn’t actually make you a loser, does it ? That’s what the bitter older generations will try to feed you, but it’s all wrong. You’re just living. Yes, you are. I’m proud of you. You made it this far ! Keep scrolling. Maybe get off Twitter though, that’s not how you’re going to make yourself feel any better in any capacity, unless your thing is pissing off ARMYs and getting terminated within the hour… The door unlocks. Your mind snaps back in. Wow, gee, at least you managed to pass time ! And it’s… yikes, you probably dozed off too during that time, because it’s past ten. An offended frown graces your features as you turn to look at that little bastard, that short fucking stick, that— “ Wha ! ” You get hit in the face with a purse… Damn, gay ass, he’s carrying a purse around now ? Wait, hold on. Why the fuck— “ Why the fuck did you do that ? ” you exclaim as you throw the purse aside. The devil’s looking at you with that passive aggressive smile of his on his face. Sickening. “ I heard what you said about Virgo men the other day, ” he responds, his voice barely hiding the pent up anger, “ and that wasn’t really nice, (y/n). We actually shower, you know ? ” “ Yeah, well, you’re gonna need to prove that, bitch boy. ” He grabs his keys and throws them in your face. Ouch, hey ! “ Stop that ! I wasn’t even lying, I— " His hand goes through his pocket while you speak and this time his phone hits your head. It’s enough. Quickly you stand, pushing your laptop aside and throwing the phone right back in his face… but it’s too late. He’s seen it. Your laptop. He gets a flash from the past ; years ago, when he was just a young Virgo man navigating this cruel world, although the world was at his fingertips by virtue of being a FUCKING Virgo man (tells you a lot about why the world is cruel), back when he met that so, so young Taurus boy, and he grabbed his laptop… You notice his glare. Your eyes narrow, and before you can yell out “No” he’s leaping for your laptop, grabbing it and holding onto it tight as you try to pry it from his hands. “ Let it go or I’m calling Jaybee ! “ the words shoot right out of your mouth. “ You think I’m scared of that catboy ? He showers even less than me ! ” “ Did you just admit to not showering ? Fucking nasty ! Go shower, stinky ! ” He roars in response, but it’s really embarrassing because he’s not a lion in any way, shape or form. He is, fortunately, very much human. You move your foot to rest it on his back (picture it: he’s on his stomach, across the couch, holding onto your laptop. So it is possible for you to rest your foot on his back). You put a little pressure on it, and his back cracks a little ; he goes “Ouch, fuck !”, and releases his grip. Yes, good, the laptop is yours (you knew that but I mean it’s in your hands again, don’t be annoying). Once again you put it aside – he uses that time to straighten himself up a little – but you have no mercy. You rush to the fridge as he follows suit, grab the bottle of milk, open it and throw it in his face. “ Jesus Christ, dude ! ” he yells out, completely inconsiderate of whether or not you’d like to be addressed as such. Don’t forget: as hot as he may be, he is a Virgo man. He does not care about you. Stop loving him right now. “ Guess you’re gonna have to shower for real this time, ” you comment, the satisfaction of this battle you just won seeping through your words. “ Fucking loser, lmao. ” “ Fuck you, (y/n). ” “ You look stupid as hell right now. Boo! Take a shower, you and your crusty musty ass ! That’s what you get for making me wait two hours ! You can’t even find the beat though, I guess you couldn’t find where to read the time on your phone. ” The court jester known as Mark Tuan proceeds to exit the scene under these humiliating claims, wiping some of the milk off his face with his milk-drenched shirt. “ Ew, ” is what you have to say to that. “ I beg you to shut your mouth right now, ” he responds from the bathroom.

But you don’t shut up. You’ve got your list, after all. You come closer to the bathroom door and lean against it, opening your handy dandy notes app – it's actually a Drive file so you can open it both on your laptop and your phone, handy dandy ! – and beginning to go through it all. " You remember when we moved in together and you stubbed your toe ? You thought I wouldn't notice how you blamed me for stubbing your toe on YOUR table that I hadn't even touched, and just casually didn't do any chores the next week ? Or the time I asked you to not touch my food and you went and ate all of it without even thinking about it, the time you threw my phone away because you thought it was too old and cheap to still be used by someone... Or worst of all, the time you said Zuko wasn't a 'compelling' or 'well-written' character, and that you found the Joker much more relatable... " " Go away ! " He kind of sounds like a child, not as in cute but as in immature for a grown ass man, and next thing you hear is the sound of rushing water. He's actually showering ? Damn, guess all that bullying paid off at the end of the day ! You smile to yourself but in an evil way. “ What a fucking embarrassing manlet lol, “ you mutter to yourself. Your job here is done (for now). All is well in the world. You go sit back on the couch, grab your laptop again, and browse AO3 for self-insert fics where you help Jinyoung and Jaebum hide their relationship by being Jinyoung’s beard. No way you’d get that close to Jaebum even in the dreamscape ; Mark was kinda right about him not showering…