#i should probably shave soon.

[titoist]

was given a chocolate coin designed to superficially resemble a that of a 20 euro cent. whats funny is that i wasnt initially sure whether it was real or not, despite my strong suspicion it was, & decided to put it to the test by biting into it. suspicions confirmed, thankfully! but i can't help but giggle imagining the alternative… as for the taste-test: the chocolate itself is… hrm. it's…. better than i expected of a chocolate coin, but still distinctly… stale, in the way that i think most low-quality chocolate tends to be, & what makes it unable for it to rise above "okay". it's urn chocolate - crumbly, almost chalk-like, the lowest common denominator of chocolate, the type to give you heartburn. but it's okay. chewing on it right now. i might just be picky. there are a few others like this in the small "candy tin" i acquired. it has a few others like this, 2 & 50 euro ones too… they're very cute! my ambivalence towards the actual taste might be at least a teensy little bit partially due to the fact that it's designed as a gift for 5 year olds… i was going to say that it introduced a little bit of excitement to my evening - but… if this in and of itself is enough to constitute a notable change in my routine, then…. that has very sad implications….

[draxua]

Chat I think tonight is the night I get laid for the first time Willow is very nervous.

Bf has been overly touching, dropping hunta plus we did talk about it recently and I think this might be it???

[stonyponyofficial]

i feel like i have species dysphoria more than actual trans gendered dysphoria. so where s the hrt for that hm??

[xcziel]

wow they decided to copy yoongi almost exactly: concert lovefest for army and then dip

[shatterthefragments]

….

[anarchistgumball]

God I'm so stressed and do not have the energy for all the shit I need to do

[materialisnt]

the closest sleep lab that will work w us is 1.5 hrs away, so roadtrip time for us n guts. n new glasses mean we can kinda see the scenery a bit in between spasms. our caregiver/housemate is listening to the halo soundtrack n guts is patient and all this world is a very narrow bridge.

[luvwestwood]

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

[ericshoney]

Sunshine girl ~ Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Your the sunshine to Matt's grumpiness.

Warnings: usual swearing, pet names

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were the sunshine to Matt's grump. He was the moon to your sun. You were total opposites but that's what drew you to him. The day you met Matt Sturniolo, your life changed.

The fans loved Matt's grumpy side, his Mattitude, his toughness. Everyone knew Matt was a softie as well, especially when it came to you.

You, Nick, Matt and Chris had planned to go shopping for the day. You picked out a pair of light blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Matt on the other hand, wore a black t-shirt with black jeans. He hadn't shaved in a few days either, so his scruffy beard was coming back.

"Morning babe." He called as saw you in the kitchen.

"Morning hun." You replied, kissing his cheek.

Matt wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder to take in the smell of your perfume. He instantly seemed to relax as Nick and Chris soon joined you.

"Let's go shopping!" Chris shouted.

"Shut up." Matt grumbled, glaring at the youngest male.

"Aww grumpy Matt." Nick teased, Matt was about to hit him, but you stopped him.

"Let's go." You said, giving Matt a sweet smile.

Matt nodded as you all went to the car. Chris went to jump in the front, but Matt gave him a glare, making him whine and climb in the back with Nick. You giggled and got in the front with Matt.

"Why do I have to sit in the back!" Chris whined.

"Because I want my girl up front." Matt responded.

You gave Chris a smile and reached for his phone, letting him have the AUX still, which made him feel better. Matt then drove to the mall, you making him feel calmer.

When you all arrived and started walking in, Matt's hand was wrapped around yours, holding it tightly. You smiled and listened to Nick rant about someone on TikTok as you browsed.

You walked around for a while, walking in and out of some stores with nothing any of you liked or wanted. You all then decided to go grab some drinks.

"What would you like, sweetheart?" Matt asked.

"Umm, pink lemonade please." You replied.

Matt nodded and told Nick, who was ordering for all of you. Nick got an iced coffee whilst Chris and Matt both got normal lemonades. You all then went to find a place to sit, opting to do your favourite sport, people watching.

"Woah look at her shoes." Chris commented, pointing to one girl who walked past with light up shoes.

You laugh but then notice a young guy walking over, probably mid twenties. It confused you slightly as he didn't seem like a fan of the guys, but you weren't going to judge.

"Hey." He called as he got to your table.

"Uh, hey." Nick replied first.

"You single?" He blurted out, looking at you with a smirk.

"No." Matt bluntly responded.

"Well good thing I wasn't asking you, I was asking her." The guys replied.

Matt chuckled and stood up, standing right in front of the stranger. He took a step back, obviously feeling intimated by Matt.

"I answered for her. She's my girlfriend. So no she's not single. She's mine. Now fuck off." Matt growled, making the guy run off quickly.

"Damn I thought you were about to have a real fight." Chris muttered as Matt sat down again, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

"Next time." He responded.

"We should go get our nails done." You said cheerfully, changing the subject.

"Anything for you, sweetheart." Matt replied, kissing your cheek.

[avatar-anna]

i saw this post on and got inspired. enjoy!

"It was nice running into you."

"Yeah, yeah, you too. It was—I'm glad we could catch up."

You held your bag in both of your hands and leaned back on your heels, waiting for the sudden tension to cease. Harry scratched his neck awkwardly while you looked down at the cobbled streets beneath your shoes. When a minute passed and neither of you said anything, when two couples excised themselves to walk past you, you finally decided to break the silence.

"I'm headed this way."

"Me too. We can walk together?"

"O—Okay."

Harry extended his arm out, a clear message for you to go first, so you did. For a split second, his hand grazed your lower back in that protective gesture he always used to use when you walked anywhere. But that had been when you were together, and now you weren't, and even though his hand merely hovered awkwardly behind you, you swore you could still feel it.

"Your hair looks nice. I don't think I've ever seen it so short before," you said, needing to break the silence all over again before it consumed you.

"Thanks, I, uh, I shaved it a few months back. It's finally starting to grow in."

It must've been soon after your break up, you realized, quickly doing the math in your head. A change, a fresh start after the end of a long relationship. You understood that, knew neither of you needed to comment on it, or the fact that you no longer wore the necklace Harry bought you for your first anniversary, though you'd seen him glance down at the missing piece of jewelry multiple times since you ran into each other.

"It's cute," you said, resisting the intrusive urge to reach up and touch his hair, instead clasping your hands behind your back.

"Are you across the bridge?" Harry asked, gesturing to one of the many bridges that stretched across the Tiber.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

Harry shrugged, the canvas bag on his shoulder slipping a fraction. "You always liked Trastevere."

You smiled, charmed by how Harry still seemed to know you so intrinsically. "And you? Are you staying in Prati?"

Harry shook his head before waving to a fan who had spotted him. He didn't stop, though, and kept walking beside you, asking about your family, specifically your grandmother, who was his Scrabble partner nearly the entirety of your relationship.

"Good. I play Scrabble with her on the weekends now. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm not a good enough opponent, but she'll never say it to my face."

"Graceful as always, your nan," Harry nodded in agreement. "Probably wouldn't say the same thing about chess, though."

"No, probably not. Do you still play?" you asked, tilting your head up to look at him.

He was so close, close enough that the sleeve of his green shirt grazed your bare arm. Close enough that if you really wanted it to the back of your hand could graze his. Instead you shifted your hand away.

"When I can," Harry said, his mouth twitching as if recalling a memory. "I've been focusing on writing most days, but I play whenever I'm stuck."

"How's that going?"

"How's work?"

"Sorry, go ahead," you said, blushing a little. Would it always be this awkward around him? You hoped not. Harry had been a friend first, and even though you knew you shouldn't,y you missed his companionship some nights. Lots of nights. Most nights.

"No, you go. Catch me up on all the latest drama at work."

So you did, falling back into familiar, neutral territory as you brought Harry up to speed on your co-workers.

Before long, you'd made it to the apartment you were renting, your palms suddenly warm as you searched your purse for your keys. You were stalling, you both knew it, but Harry didn't comment, nor did he leave, didn't offer any reason to finally say goodbye.

You knew this was where it was supposed to end. That a chance encounter with your ex in a foreign country really shouldn't have gone on this long. You knew that, and yet...

"Do you want to come in?" you asked, scrambling for any logical reason as to why Harry should follow you into your apartment. "I—I, uh, I could make us coffee and—"

"Please. I mean—Sure. That would be...that would be fine."

Relief flooded through you, though that was quickly replaced by a guilty sort of anticipation as you unlocked the door to the main building of the apartment, as Harry followed you up a couple flights of stairs, as he waited once again for you to unlock a door. When you were inside, when you set your things down on the small dining table, you turned to face your ex.

Harry's gaze was once again lowered to your collarbones, to the place where the necklace he gave you used to sit. Then he met your eyes, the expression in them clear. It was the first time you'd seen them since running into him today. He'd kept his sunglasses on the whole time, perhaps to hide his expressions more, because now that you properly met his gaze, you saw it all. Those green eyes you still loved so much betrayed his every thought, and you knew yours probably did as well.

It was hard to say who moved first. If you grabbed the front of Harry's shirt before he wrapped an arm around your waist and fisted your hair in his other hand. But none of it mattered when your mouth met his, when your hands traveled up to cup the sides of his face, your thumbs tracing the familiar planes of his face.

A graze of his teeth against your bottom lip had you gasping, had him smiling as if that was the exact reaction he'd been hoping for. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down his scalp, satisfied by the groan that vibrated against your mouth as his tongue caressed yours.

"This isn't—It's not—" you tried to say, losing focus as Harry left a trail of kisses from your jaw to the base of your neck and back up again. "This doesn't mean—"

"I know," Harry breathed, his forehead pressed against yours as he toyed with the bow that held the front of your blouse together. Your breath hitched as his knuckle grazed your exposed stomach. "This doesn't change anything. Now take this off."

You almost made him do it just because he ordered you to, but you knew why he wanted you to be the one to untie the knot of your blouse. It meant you were saying yes to this moment, it meant you were saying yes to doing whatever it was you were about to do.

So you pulled at the blouse until it came undone, leaving it open so it revealed a strip of bare skin going right up the middle of your body. The rest you would leave up to him.

Harry shrugged out of his own sweater and t-shirt before reaching out to push back the shoulders of your shirt until it was off completely, falling into a puddle of fabric at your feet beside his. His gaze alone was too much and not enough, more explicit than it had any right to be. He stood there and drank you in for a full minute as if in a daze, taking in every mark and imperfect like he was reacquainting himself.

It was hard to get the words out, but you managed. "Still broken up?"

"Yeah," Harry said, his eyes still roving over every inch of your body that he could see. Then he blinked as if remembering the situation for what it was. "Yeah, still broken up."

There wasn't much left to say after that, really.

[luveline]

wondering what zombie!au Steve might try to do for a sappy romantic surprise.. I feel like he’d get really excited about planning something intimate/small but really meaningful and tooth-rotting sweet.. maybe it’s for a birthday? or just for a spot of cheer?

Before the apocalypse, Steve was desperate to be loved. None of his girlfriends ever seemed that interested in more than sex or popularity, and if they were, they’d realise they wanted more than Steve soon after. He spent years wishing somebody would look at him and find exactly what they wanted. 

And you do. 

You look at him like he’s your everything (when you aren’t complaining, that is). “I’m gonna have to shave you myself,” you say, climbing into his lap, your hand tipping his head back less gently than you mean to, he’s sure. “That’s a wound.” 

“It’s a scratch. It’ll be fine tomorrow.” 

He grabs your waist, surprised but certainly not unhappy with your sudden presence. You’re straddling him. “Does it hurt?” You rub the area surrounding his raw skin. “Does that hurt?” 

“Not really.” He runs his hands up and down your sides. “What’s up?” 

You shrug. He leans back against the headboard as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “We finally have a bed again.” 

He pulls you in for a hug. “Yeah?” 

“It’s so nice. I missed this.” 

“I missed this too. Clean sheets, a door that locks…” 

You understand what he’s hinting at. He isn’t subtle, but he’s also in no rush, and you know that too. “Maybe you can give me a massage later,” you murmur. “We still have some of that nice lotion.” 

He loves that, the thought of you on your front as his hands push up your shoulders, your skin and his palms warmed by friction. “What about me?” he jokes, hands sliding up your back, tracing the path he’ll make later on. 

“You can have one too,” you say, your face dropping down to his neck, where you kiss him mildly, like you’re thinking of something else. 

Steve wants to give the gift to you before he forgets it. You can be a very distracting person, not just because he’d like to encourage your lips to his for a good kiss, or because you’re the perfect partner for hugging under the covers. Maybe it’s because he loves talking to you, about everything and anything at all.

“Hey, so.” He encourages your head back, his hand on the nape of your neck. “I have something for you.” 

“Do I have to get off of you?” you ask. 

“No, you can stay there.” He reaches into his pocket. 

“Wait, you’re smiling. Are you that excited to give it to me?” 

“Pretty excited.” 

You caress the inside of his elbow. 

It’s probably why you’re so easy to love. Not that you love him, but your propensity for sweetness, and the way you show your own affection. If he didn’t need both hands for this next part he’d twine your fingers together and hold yours all night long. 

He pulls a small plastic bag from his pocket to show you the contents, then changes his mind and opens the bag to take it out instead. “I know you were pretty happy that I found your necklace in my jacket, but I got it for you such a long time ago, I’m not saying you shouldn’t keep it. You should keep it.” 

“I don’t think I could get rid of it,” you say, honest and curious. “You gave it to me to make me feel better. Do you remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember. You had a frown like no one’s business for days.” He finds the charm and lays it over his hand. The chain is slightly tangled, but he can fix that. “There wasn’t a box, but. I don’t know, it reminded me of us, and you need an upgrade, I think I should ask you to get married–”

You smile in surprise, “What?” 

“But I can’t find a ring. So I have to promise to get you one, and you can have this for the interim.” It’s an incredible skinny chain joined by two hearts. Steve knows it’s cheesy, it’s insanely corny, whatever, he’s smiling like a loon. “I figure it’s me and you,” he says, putting it in your open palm. “Linked together.” 

Your gaze moves between him and the necklace slowly. “You want to marry me?” 

Steve curls your hand closed over the necklace. Gentle, he takes your face into both hands. “I get that I haven’t been the best boyfriend, but you can’t really think I don’t want that, right?” 

He’s really asking, but you don’t answer.

“I would’ve married you a long, long time ago, if things were different,” he says, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “I would’ve asked,” he corrects softly, before stealing another kiss. 

You press your screwed up fist to his chest as you kiss him back. 

“Who says we have to have rings?” you mumble. 

The idea of calling you his wife is insanity. It trips him up, flips his heart, but he thinks you deserve the real thing. As real as it can get, considering. 

“I’m gonna keep looking,” Steve says. 

The way your eyes soften as he rubs your cheek sets everything he’s saying to you in stone. Who else could he ever want to be looking at him like this beside you? How lucky he is that you’d bother. 

“Thank you,” you say. 

Your face tilts down and he drops one hand, moving the other to just under your jaw, his pinky and marriage finger sewn behind your ear, middle and index on your cheek. He watches you and you turn your gift in your palm, waiting for you to lift your head.

“Thank you,” you say again. “Will you put it on me?” 

Steve strings it around your neck and clasps it at your chest before twisting it to sit properly. The new necklace is a bit shorter than your simple diamond. You could wear both without issue. 

You look down at them but can’t quite see them. “Does it look good?” 

“Yeah. Looks beautiful.” 

He wraps his arms around you again and looks up in to your face, chests coming together as he straightens his back and the gap between you closes just enough. You look down at him, your smile a mirror of his. Steve thinks being as in love with you as he is makes for its own kind of gift. Much better than a necklace, but he’ll keep trying to bridge the gap. 

He forgets everything else when you’re together. Everything. 

His face falls into your chest and collar against your necklaces. You press your face to his hair and cuddle him nicely. 

“Love you,” you both whisper at the same time. 

Your laugh tickles his scalp, warm breath in his hair. 

[joshslater]

Emergency Model

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"Excuse me, what's your shoe size?"

Bewildered I looked around to find the man who asked the random question, like out of that old episode of Monty Python. Off to the side, almost behind me, was a thirty-ish man in polo shirt, jeans, and glasses with plastic rims that looked purposefully selected to make him look like a film director or architect. He looked unsure or stressed. "Eight, eight and a half. Who's asking?"

Immediately he brightened up. "Hello. I'm Ben Atkinson, " he said and extended his hand. "We're making a photo shoot of the supplemental collection of sporting clothes," he continued without waiting for me to shake it. "It's all for the online shop, so simple stuff. White background, a few poses." Tentatively I shook his hand. "Pretty fast rotation of models. Unfortunately one of them has called in sick. You have the right look, but more importantly the right build and size."

"Uhum," I answered, sensing where this was going. It was a Saturday morning, and I was on my way to meet up with some friends at Wayland's Deli.

"This is quite sudden, but we are on a tight deadline. If you're willing to model for us I'll give you twice the normal rate."

"Ok," I said, not waiting to hear what the normal rate was. I'm sure Stuart would not stop giving me grief about it for the rest of the year, but I would technically be a photo model which wouldn't be a negative in Sarah's eyes. Turned out that it would also be double my monthly earnings as well, so maybe I could shut Stuart up as well.

We entered the building, which apparently was an office space that had been taken over for the day for the shoot. There were racks of clothes everywhere, lots of people with iPads tracking what item was where, who should wear it, and in what conference room they should shoot it. It was bustling with activity. After some exchange of information with Ben, and signing papers, I was handed over to a conference room turned makeup and styling studio. Most of the furniture was stacked in one corner and the floor was covered by transparent plastic that had been rolled out. To one side was a table with lots of makeup tools and bottles and stuff I wouldn't know how to use, except maybe the hand mirror and the scissors, and even that I'm not confident with. A pair of strong LED lamps on stands lit a chair placed at the center of the plastic. 

"I'm Julia, pleased to meet you. So you are the last one," said the stylist, carefully surveying me and in particular my face and hair. "We're short on time, so we have to work quickly. Are you ok with a buzz cut and tight fade?" Not what I would have chosen, but it's starting to get warm outside and it's only hair. I'd be back to my current length after the summer. "Sure."

She seated me in the chair and began the work with a corded trimmer, and soon a flurry of detail work with smaller trimmers and some of her tools from the table. Probably took her about ten minutes for the haircut. Then some time with a straight razor blade and a tweezer to pluck and shave all over my face and then arms. I told her that this was all new to me, having literally just been picked from the street. She reassured me that there wasn't much to it. Just be no-nonsense about it. Take whatever the stylist decides, change clothes quickly, do the poses the photographer asks for, and repeat.

"All done," she said and handed me the hand mirror as if I had any say in this. I looked so different than just moments before. The hair was shorter than I've ever had it, with a razor sharp fringe line. The fade on the sides was basically just an inch tall from the head and down the temple, then skin tight down, and presumably the same around the back of the head as well. The total amount of hair I was left with could fit a shot glass. "If you go down the corridor to the break room there is a shower in the bathroom there. Ask Andy outside to let you in. Take a quick rinse to get rid of stray hairs, change into these, put your stuff in one of the plastic boxes there, and come back to me for a final touch-up." She handed me a pair of white briefs and white socks. I hesitated a bit, and she was quick to jump ahead of my thoughts. "Everyone around here are used to see gorgeous bodies without clothes. Act as if it is normal, because to us it is. You can't be self-conscious. Oh, and Andy is the only one with a key, so your valuables are safe." Another boy showed up at the door saying he needed a new application. I told Julia thanks and went to look for Andy.

Andy unlocked the door to the office lunch room for me and I did as Julia had told me. I stripped naked and put everyting, clothes, wallet, phone, keys, shoes, into one of the plastic boxes, wrote my name on it with a whiteboard marker and placed it next to all the other boxes. Eight boxes in total. I went into the bathroom, took a 90 seconds shower, and dried myself off with one of the towels from the pile. I put on the briefs and socks, had Julia apply her things to me, and within ten minutes I was dressed in Nike shoes, joggers, and a fleece hoodie, being ordered by a photographer who didn't have time to introduce himself to look left, turn around, put my hands in my pockets, pull up the hood, sit down on the floor, and on and on. Then out change, and back with the next item.

It was going non-stop since they were behind on my stuff, so I had barely time to talk to anyone. There wasn't any proper lunch break either, just a protein bar together with two of the other models, Mark and Andrew. At first they thought it was funny that I had just been snatched off the street for the shoot, but when I told them how much more money I got they were like "fuck you, go back to work". Well the break was over anyway, so I don't know how serious they were.

It continued with item after item, until I realized I was the only model left. The others had taken off without saying goodbye, not that we had any relation. People were moving things out of the office, and when I asked about the hurry they said there was a firm deadline when they had to be out so the cleaning crew could put everything back to a working office again. I could feel the pressure as it was my item changes that held up everyone. I swapped into a pair of MRKNTN underwear that probably was like half a size too small but decided to just power through with the shoot. As soon as the last photo had been taken, they started to dismantle the light rigs. As I walked back to the lunch room I could see that most of the clothes racks were gone. The makeup room was back to looking like a conference room. I couldn't find Andy anywhere though, and the lunch room with my stuff was still locked. I wanted my stuff for sure, but more importantly I wanted to get out of the underwear that kept squeezing and chafing. I couldn't go more than 30 seconds without having my hands down the joggers to adjust them.

Ben wasn't anywhere to be seen either. I asked one of the remaining people and he said they had all left, working on getting all the stuff back and preparing the "delivery pipeline" for the photos. Probably Andy had checked off everyone from his list, and it was printed before I was recruited. "Just keep the clothes you have on and you can come back here Monday and pick up your stuff," he said.

Fuck.

No point in hanging around any longer. Everyone wanted to leave as soon as possible, so I just left and headed towards the bus stop. It was getting late and with no phone on me I couldn't call home and say what was going on.

Fuck.

I didn't have anything to pay the bus fare with. I could perhaps go back to the office building and see if I could catch anyone exiting, use their phone, and call for someone to pick me up. But there was no telling if and when I would get hold of anyone. Just walking back there would make me miss the next bus, so that would set me back at least an hour. I could just as well ask someone else to use their phone. Or perhaps ask them to cover the bus fare.

That's when I saw them, a little bit further down the street, past the bus stop. Six boys huddled at the corner, talking and messing around as if no one else was around. One had a bike. All of them dressed in the kind of clothes I had spent all day modeling in, track suits, hoodies, trainers. All of them were smoking. I figured I'd have as good a chance with them as with anyone else now, looking the way I looked.

As I was getting closer one of them alerted the others and they had some kind of conversation about me. "Hello, excuse me. Could I borrow money for the bus fare from any of you?" There was a second of silence before a mixed snicker erupted, and one of them answered "No, bruv. I don't think so."

I don't know why, but for some reason I was mortified by how I had been dismissed. I could feel my face turning red, so I quickly turned away from them to make my way back to the bus stop, without any plan of what to do next.

"Oi, bruv!" I heard from behind me. Looking back at them I could see three boys had gotten up and were heading my way. "Callum's grafting down at the barber's for some extra quid and need someone to practice on. What if he can do some practice while we cover the fare and take you home safely? Fair, innit?"

"I barely have any hair," I said and let my hand touch my fresh skin fade, almost shocking myself with how radically different it felt.

"Won't be much of a nick then, bruv."

He was right. There wasn't much he could ruin. I had only a few millimeters of hair so in the worst case scenario I could shave completely and it would be back within the week.

"Good lad. A deal innit."

"Yes," I said, unsure if it was expected. The guy who had spoken and Callum flanked me while the third lad walked behind me, enveloping me with the scent of smoke and body spray. After a silent moment the guy spoke again, introducing himself as Iwan and the third guy as Rob, and asked where I lived. I gave him the bus stop, Hillside Garden North, about 18 minutes ride. Would have been busy during the week, but at weekends there wouldn't be many on the bus.

We didn't have to wait long for the bus to arrive, but instead of entering by the driver they all bunched up again with me in the middle and entered through the exit doors as a single unit. Then they quickly moved to the back of the bus and pushed me into a seat next to Callum, facing Iwan and Rob in the furthest back seat. I half expected the driver to say something over the speakers, but there was barely a delay, if any, before the bus was moving as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I looked at Iwan with perhaps a bit of surprise and he just shrugged as if to say "what did you expect? That the driver would confront us?"

Then he nodded at Callum next to me, backpack in his lap, who answered "Aye" and got up. He placed the bag on the seat and positioned himself right in front of me, one leg on either side of mine, his knees hitting the edge of the seat, and his left hand grabbing the rail behind me. It felt both imposing and intimate. He opened the backpack and rummaged around with his right hand until he found a small trimmer in a zip-lock bag.

He opened it with both hands and threw the plastic bag into the backpack. Then he looked out and waited for the bus to drive on straight and even road before he turned the trimmer on. Then slowly he moved it in an arched line from my temple and along the side of my head until he reached the neck. Then he studied for a few seconds before he made a few additional buzzes along the same line.

"Not bad, innit?" he said while shifting his body so Iwan and Rob could see. "Fucking mint, mate," Iwan answered.

Then he turned on the trimmer again and unexpectedly extended the line by buzzing my eyebrow for a few seconds. I hadn't even considered my eyebrows. Callum reached into his backpack again to put the trimmer in the zip-lock, but without moving his feet so his body pressed even closer to me. While I couldn't see much, I could certainly feel his body spray filling my nostrils while I felt my eyebrows with my fingers. I guess there would be a lot to explain to mother anyway, so this would just be yet another detail.

I could just see it for a fraction of a second. It looked like a small glue gun in off-white plastic. Then before I could realize what it was it was pressed against my ear, it made a snapping sound, and I felt a sharp pain. "What the!" I said, more in surprise than pain.

"18G piercing. Hurts more, heals slower, but much better," Callum offered, as if it was the type of piercing that was in question, not that he had done it at all. He reloaded the piercing gun and I struggled with what to do. Just take it like the first one? Why should I? But then one piercing was the real threshold. Once you pass that, two is if anything better than one. This would soon be over anyway.

He was just as quick with the second one as the first one. "These need to stay in 30 days, you hear me?" he said, still standing essentially on top of me. "Yes, I understand," I said with a sinking feeling of all the implications. He put the gun back into the bag and went searching for something again. Finally he pulled out some sort of pliers, then held my earlobe with one hand while doing something with the pliers with the other. "Making sure they don't fall off," he explained before sitting down again on his seat. I could see Iwan and Rob again, and booth looked pleased. Iwan looked absolutely chuffed. "Fucking proper, innit" he said and pat me hard on the shoulder. "Fucking proper."

After than Iwan opened up and started to ask me all kinds of questions, starting with my name, which I realized I hadn't given him when he presented everyone. I was soon giving the highlights of the day as a photo model until we arrived my stop. To my surprise everyone got off with me. "Said we would take you home safe." We continued to chat all the way home and it turned out me Iwan and Rob had the same taste in electronic music while Callum was more of a rock guy.

"Ok, this is my stop," I said once we reached my house. "Meet us Monday, same time and place," Iwan said. "What?" "You owe us £2 for the bus, bruv." "But..." "You going back on our deal?" "No, I'll come by." "And wear the same clothes. Underwear too." "No! I have classes." "You'll figure it out, bruv." Callum opened his backpack again and tossed something to Iwan. "And use this," he said and handed over a can of Lynx Jungle body spray. "What if I don't? What if I don't do any of that?" "Where you live isn't a secret, innit? See you Monday, bruv."

[semperama]

for the kissing meme: buck/eddie, 24.

-as a reward

Buck makes it all the way back to his loft before he breaks and texts Eddie.

Don’t do it, man, he says. Don’t let them get to you.

Sure, Eddie’s been getting nothing but shit from the entire 118 since he came back from Texas sporting a mustache. And sure, Buck has joined in on the teasing—he had to, even if he felt like he needed to have his fingers crossed behind his back the entire time. But after Eddie laughed off today’s latest round of 70s porn star jokes and promised he’d come in for his next shift clean-shaven, Buck felt—something a lot like panic. Churning stomach, shaking hands. When Eddie said goodbye in the locker room, thumping Buck on the shoulder, Buck almost reached out to stop him, reached to run his thumb across his upper lip, because—no. No.

I knew you didn’t hate it, Eddie texts back a couple minutes later. And Buck groans, even though he’s not shocked something gave him away—the flush in his cheeks or the way he laughed a little too loud at everyone else’s Freddie Mercury jokes or the way he couldn’t stop looking.

Come on. You know we all have to get on your case. But you should keep it.

The time has come, Buck. You’ll live.

And sure, Buck gets it. It was a—a crisis mustache, or whatever. A temporary change, and now that Christopher’s back and everyone’s together and everything is good, why does he still need it? But Buck just—he can’t explain it, can’t examine it, but it feels like he’ll be losing something if Eddie loses the facial hair. It feels like someone scooping up the last bite of a dessert he never got to try, or learning he missed the window on a museum exhibit he really wanted to see.

Please? Buck types it out and sends it before he can think too hard about it. Please. For me?

Eddie doesn’t respond to that. Ten minutes go by, then twenty. He probably got in the shower, probably is shaving it off right now, all that dark hair swirling down the drain. Tomorrow Buck will go over for dinner and video games with Chris, and Eddie will look…normal. Everything will be back to normal. Why does that feel like something Buck can’t handle, doesn’t want?

He’s halfway through prepping dinner, forcing himself to go through the motions so he’ll stop feeling shaky and fragile inside, when someone knocks at his door. He wipes his hands off, frowning, and goes to the door, and—it’s Eddie.

It’s Eddie, with a mustache.

“’For me?’” Eddie says.

Buck should feel ashamed, hearing his frankly unhinged message parroted back to him, but he’s too busy sighing with relief and—reaching, reaching out like he wanted to before, his palm cradling Eddie’s jaw and his thumb swiping across the hair at the corner of Eddie’s mouth. It’s better than he thought it would be, a little spiky at the ends but…soft too. Soft enough he wants to rub his lips against it.

So he does.

“Buck,” Eddie says, amused, his lips brushing Buck’s, the mustache tickling his skin. It’s not quite a kiss, not yet, but—it could be. It will be, soon.

“Shut up,” Buck says, heat flooding his face. Then, “Thank you.” And then he tips his head down a little and presses his mouth to Eddie’s in earnest, tonguing his top lip and groaning at the prickle, the newness, just what he wanted, what he asked for.

Eddie wraps an arm around his waist, iron band of muscle, and walks him backward into the loft, lets the door fall shut. “For you,” he murmurs against Buck’s mouth.

Buck moves his head left to right, lets the hair rasp across his cheek, his mouth, his chin. He licks again, kisses again, wants to burrow in and stay. “Thank you,” he says again. It’s silly. Stupid. But Eddie did this for him, and now Buck wants to give him everything, anything.

“Buck,” Eddie says, all fondness and gravel. “Just kiss me.”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice.

[mxltifxnd0m]

sick days ◎ s. winchester

summary: after multiple back-to-back hunts, the stress and fatigue gets to sam

pairings: established sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x gn! reader

word count: 3K

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', fluff, taking care of sick! sam, barely edited lol

a/n: my last sam fic before i go back to college and get swamped with my course load. writing will slow down and be posted sparingly but i still plan to post if i have time!

as always, like, reblog, and comment on the fic! i always like hearing constructive criticism and love feedback <33 (also my last fic kinda flopped so give it some love please!)

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

It was rare for the boys to get sick. Surprisingly, they had very strong immune systems, and considering how well Sam ate, he would be the last person in the bunker to get sick. 

But you guys have been running yourselves ragged with hunting, having gone on them back to back for the past month and a half. It was exhausting, and when you guys made it back to the bunker, you all but collapsed in your shared bed with Sam, not even bothering to get under the covers. 

When you got up the next day, you felt significantly better, but exhaustion still riddled your body. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. It was nearing noon. It didn’t surprise you that you slept that long; the three of you got back to the bunker well into the late morning. You began to get up from next to the sleeping giant next to you, but you were immediately pulled back by a strong arm wrapping around your lower stomach. You let yourself be dragged back into Sam’s body and let his warmth cocoon you. 

You feel his jean-covered leg intertwine with yours as your chest hits his back, and Sam leaves a sleepy kiss to your pulse point as he nuzzled you, the scruff on his face from not being able to shave for the past two days scratched softly against your neck, making fond smile stretch on your lips. 

“What time is it?” You heard the rasp of Sam’s tired voice whisper in your ear. 

“Almost noon.” You told him as you traced shapes on his bare arm before interlacing his fingers through yours, your interlocked hands resting on your abdomen. 

Sam let out a soft groan before nuzzling your neck further, making a soft laugh escape you. You reached your free hand to thread through his silky locks and ruffled his hair a bit. 

“We should probably get up now.” 

Sam mumbled something into your neck, but you couldn’t understand a single word he said. 

You huffed an amused laugh through your nose. “Mind speaking up for the rest of the class? 

His head raised slightly from your neck. “Don’t want to.” Sam grumbled out before his head fell back to his previous spot. 

You smiled at Sam’s childlike nature. He could get grumpy when he crashes from a long hunt and doesn’t go on his morning runs. 

“We should. We’re still in our clothes from last night.” Your nose wrinkled at the thought. 

You weren’t a stranger to sleeping in your jeans or your hunting clothes. 

Before even meeting the Winchesters and moving into the bunker when you started to date Sam, you had collapsed into a motel bed (or a hundred) with your jeans on. But considering you were used to having somewhere you considered home now, you more often than not slept in your pajamas, even if you were dead tired from a hunt. 

Sam grunted and tightened his hold on you, shaking his head in your neck. You could only imagine what you and Sam looked like right now—having a 6’4 man completely wrapped around you. You mentally shook your head and managed to pry yourself out of his arms. 

Sam let out a whine of protest as you left the bed but decided that he wasn’t going to get out of bed anytime soon, so he rolled over to his stomach and went back to sleep. 

You saw his breathing even out, and you shook your head. There was a soft smile on your face as you rounded the bed to his side to kiss Sam on the forehead. He unconsciously smiled at the contact. You left his side to grab a change of pajamas from the dresser. You decided a shower was in order before you decided to cook up some lunch for everyone. 

You doubted that Dean was even awake at the moment, but to check, you peeked your head into his room to find your suspicions to be correct. Dean was sprawled out on his bed, but it seemed that he was able to strip down to his boxers and a t-shirt. You closed his door quietly and shuffled off to the shower room. 

Once you were freshly clean and refreshed, the shower having given you some energy, you padded into the empty kitchen and decided to whip up some food for you and the boys. You started the coffee maker and looked in the fridge to see it somewhat stocked, but you knew that you or Dean would have to make a supply run in the coming days. 

You settled on making sandwiches for you and the boys, and when the coffee was done, Dean stalked into the kitchen. It looked like he was moving on autopilot, moving towards the mugs and coffee pot, pouring himself a cup before plopping himself down at the table. Dean hadn’t bothered changing; all he did was shrug on his ‘dead guy’ robe and his hair sticking up in different directions, having been mussed up from sleeping. You placed his just-made sandwich in front of him, and he let out a grunt of thanks before diving into his lunch (breakfast). 

Soon enough, Sam stumbled into the kitchen. He also looked like he rolled out of bed, his flannel wrinkled, but he was able to tame his hair. Sam gave you a grateful smile as he sat at the table, and you placed a cup of coffee and his lunch in front of him. You grabbed your lunch and a water bottle from the fridge. You kissed Sam’s temple before settling next to him at the table, where the three of you ate in comfortable silence. 

A couple of days had passed since you came back from the last hunt, and you made the boys take at least a week off from hunting since you had been going on hunts consistently and deserved a break.  

You and Sam were relaxing in the library, Sam reading some lore book that he had yet to catalog, and you were reading a mystery/thriller book that you had been meaning to read for a while on your Kindle. The two of you were content in each other’s presence, but you noticed that Sam was clearing his throat more often today. 

Sam eventually let out a cough that made you look up at him. 

“Need some water hun?” You ask him with furrowed brows. 

Sam shook his head. “No, I’m fine.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure?”

Sam just nodded at you in response. Your eyes lingered on him for a moment before they flicked downward back to your Kindle. 

The day passed as it usually did, but the next morning was what you didn’t expect. For one, Sam was still in bed when you had woken up. You were confused because Sam was a stickler for his routine in the mornings. You glanced at the clock, the green letters reading 9:14 AM, which was a little later than you would usually get up, but you were still catching up on sleep. 

You decide to leave Sam in bed, figuring that he needs to do the same thing and go to the bathroom to do your morning routine. When you came back into the room to change, Sam was awake, resting on the headboard, but he was sniffling and looked pale. You quickly rushed over to him. 

“You doing alright there babe?” You asked as you made it to his side of the bed and sat next to him. You reached out to feel his forehead, but he leaned away from your touch. 

“Don’t, I’m going to get you sick.” Sam’s voice was raspy and tired. 

“I’ll be fine, I just wanna see if you’re running a fever.” 

Sam didn’t seem to like that idea but relented, leaning towards your hand. The back of your hand hit his forehead for a moment, pursing your lips as you felt his temperature before cupping his cheek, your thumb caressing the beauty mark near his eye. 

“You’re running a little warmer than usual, let me go see if we have a thermometer somewhere. Stay here.” You ordered him. 

Sam huffed but nodded as he sunk back into the bed. You smiled, pinching his cheek before releasing it. 

“Good boy.” You teased as you stood up. 

Sam rolled his eyes at you, a tired smile playing on his lips. 

You quickly made your way to the infirmary, hoping that the Men of Letters had a thermometer that wasn’t made of mercury, but you had an inkling that they didn’t. You passed Dean as you made your way to the infirmary, and he called out to you, seeing your hasty speed. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked when he noticed you were going in the direction of the infirmary. 

“Sam is sick and might be running a fever.” 

Dean’s eyebrows knit in confusion and slight concern, now walking with you, abandoning the direction he was already walking in. “You’re telling Mr. Health nut got sick? How?” 

“Not sure. But I have a feeling it’s because we had been running around on hunts and since we hadn’t been on one for a couple of days, the exhaustion and stress finally hit and this is how his body is reacting.” You explained to Dean your theory as to why Sam got sick, knowing how uncommon it was for them to get sick. 

“I’ll go out and grab some stuff for him. I have to do a supply run anyway.” Dean said as you two left the infirmary, nearly turning the place upside down, trying to find a thermometer that wasn’t made with mercury. You highly doubted that Sam wanted mercury poisoning, and that was the thing that took him out instead of a monster (again). 

You nodded. “I’ll text you a list.” 

Dean patted your shoulder before the two of you parted ways, you in the direction of your shared room with Sam and Dean in the direction of the garage. 

You made it back to your shared room to find Sam dozing off, sniffling, and clearing his throat. Sam’s tired eyes snapped to yours as you moved across the room to sit by his feet at the edge of the bed.  

“How are you feeling?” You asked him gently, letting your hand rest on his ankle. 

“Cold, and I can’t breathe out of my nose.” Sam’s voice was hoarse and sounded congested. 

You sent Sam a sympathetic smile. “Dean’s out getting you some stuff right now, he should be back in a bit.” You gave Sam’s ankle a reassuring squeeze. 

“Did you find a thermometer?” 

You huffed. “Yes, but they were made of mercury and broken. I don’t think you would have appreciated getting mercury poisoning on top of being sick.” 

Sam chuckled before it turned into a coughing fit. You cringed at the sound of his cough and stood up from your place on the bed. 

“I’ll get you some water and tissues.” 

You entertained Sam for about an hour before Dean came back. It looked like he bought the entire drugstore with the two bags full of medicine and other supplies that he thought you might’ve needed in the future. Well, at least the infirmary would be stocked with cough and flu medicine. 

You whipped a quick lunch for Sam that he could stomach before taking the meds. After Sam ate the small lunch you gave him, you made him take some Dayquil and placed a cold washcloth on his forehead. You were expecting for him to make a fuss about taking medicine, having heard the stories that Dean told you of Sam when he was sick when they were younger. 

You let Sam take a nap, knowing the only way that he would get better faster is if he just rested. You were planning on prepping Sam’s dinner while he slept, but as you walked into the kitchen, you found Dean at the stove cooking some veggies in a pot. 

“I was going to do that, you know?” You said as you walked over to Dean and looked at the ingredients for tomato soup scattered on the metal countertop. 

“Well, taking care of Sasquatch over there is a handful and figured you needed all the help you could get.” Dean looked at you with a shrug of his shoulder, but you could hear the undercurrent of fondness over the nonchalant tone that he had. 

“Mmhm. Okay, well do you need any help?” 

“You can start making the grilled cheeses’.” 

A couple of hours later, there was a plate filled with grilled cheese sandwiches (most of which were for Dean) and piping hot tomato soup that was enough for a small army. You tiptoed into the low-lit room of Sam’s bedroom, who was still asleep, with a tray filled with food, water, medicine, and a thermometer (a digital one). You placed the tray on the nightstand on the side Sam was lying on and sat down next to him. 

You looked down at the sleeping man in front and noticed how much younger he looked as he did. The crease in between his eyebrows was smoothed out, and stress wasn’t etched in his features as he breathed as evenly as he could with a congested nose. You shook your head in slight disbelief at how beautiful this man was even when he was sick. 

You took off the now warm towel on Sam’s forehead and gently brushed back the strands of hair that were dampened by the towel. Sam stirred at your ministrations as he groggily blinked the sleep from his eyes. 

“Hey sleepy head.” You said with a gentle smile. You were able to gauge his temperature as your hand brushed against his forehead for a moment before petting the long strands of his brunette locks. 

Sam cracked a smile and your hand fell from his hair as he pulled himself up and rested against the headboard.  He was still dressed in the white t-shirt and flannel pajama pants he went to sleep in. 

“How long was I out for?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat slightly.

You gave him the water bottle from earlier. “Give or take a few hours.” 

Sam took a sip of water, glancing at the alarm clock before capping his water bottle and nodding. He stretched his neck out with a slight groan before his head hit his headboard with a small thump.

“Still tired?” You watched him carefully. 

“Yeah, and I feel like I was tossed around by a demon,” Sam said as he absent-mindedly cracked his knuckles. 

You let out a small chuckle.” I mean, you did about a month ago.” You joked. 

Sam shot you a glare, but it had no heat behind it as he was still looking at you through tired eyes. “Haha, very funny.” He said dryly. 

You sent him a smirk. “Thank you, I’ll be here all night.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

You pointed a stern finger at him. “Hey, you should be nicer to the person who’s taking care of your sick ass or I’ll make sure you get mercury poisoning.”

Sam rolled his eyes at your empty threat. “I could take care of myself.” 

You raised an unconvinced eyebrow at him, your mind immediately flicking back to all of the times you had to pry him away from researching in the library to sleep. 

You hummed unconvincingly. “Sure you could big boy.” You quipped before reaching for the tray on the nightstand and placed it above his lap. The tray had legs, so it didn’t have to rest precariously on his lap. 

“Enjoy dinner, Dean and I made it.” You smiled at him before petting his head. 

Sam looked down at the tomato soup and grilled cheese before him. He couldn’t really smell it, but it looked delicious, and he felt his stomach rumble with hunger. 

“Thank you.” Sam’s tone filled with sincerity. 

“S’no problem love.” You winked at him before getting up from the bed. 

You pointed down at the medicine and the thermometer. “I’ll take your temp after you eat, then you’ll shower, and then take your meds.” You instructed Sam as he began to slurp at the soup. 

Sam nodded obediently. “Have you eaten yet?”   

“Not yet.” 

“Can you eat here with me?” 

You smiled at Sam. “Yeah, let me grab my food.” 

After you and Sam ate, you took his temperature, which was only at 100 degrees. You managed to get Sam out of bed and into the shower room, where you helped him wash off. He was practically putty in your hands as you washed his hair with the lukewarm water of the shower (he complained of wanting a hot shower, but you knew better than having him shower in hot or cold water when he had a fever). 

Once he was clean, he all but stumbled back into the room and collapsed in the bed. Sam was about to fall asleep, but you made him take some medicine before he got under the covers and got swept under by the drug-induced sleep. 

You were about to leave Sam’s side to sleep in your old room before you moved into Sam’s room when you felt a tug at your shirt, seeing Sam’s sleepy pout on his face. 

“Yes, Sam?” 

“Stay.” 

“Thought you didn’t want me to get sick.” You teased softly, grabbing his hand from your shirt. 

That was a bad idea because he grabbed you with strength that you didn’t expect from a drowsy Sam and pulled you into him on the bed, a yelp escaping your mouth. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist and nuzzled into your neck. 

“Don’t care, need you.” He mumbled into your neck, his breath hitting your collarbone as you were chest to chest. 

You huffed a small laugh through your nose, threading your hands through his long hair, uncaring of the consequences. “You won’t be saying that when I get sick and blame you for it.” 

Sam didn’t respond to you, his breathing evening out before you even said your last word. You shook your head, a knowing smile on your face before you eventually fell asleep yourself. 

A week later, Sam took on the caretaker role, and you guys weren’t able to go on a hunt for another two weeks until you felt better. 

[rzyraffek]

Could you do headcannons where they shower/bath together but it's fluff??

Fluffy? Bathing fluffy? With THEM? Goodluck, but it sounds fun enough to write🥰 you didnt mension what slashers should I put in so imma go with who I think would fit in this headcanons

They/them, mostly sfs, Request open

Bathing with slashers headcanons

Vincent Sinclair

Will get flustered 100% but he won't even think about doing anything sexual

He will be soo anxious he will ask about everything! 'Is it okay if he touches s/o hair, can he massage them??? Can he go near them'

If s/o washes his hair or massages him he will probably fall asleep

Tbh s/o needs to gain a lot of trust if he even lets them enter bathroom when he is without mask. So don't even stare at his face for too long he will get insecure

Billy Lenz

Surprised hes in bath with somone and its fluffy? Me too

But imagine

This guy will forgor about all his nasty thoughts as soon as he sees bubbles in bath, or bath bombs or any kind of water decoration

He will check is water tastes difrenlty after bath bomb

Will ask nicley for second and third bathbomb

Will splash them and declare bath war

Litteraly hes going to lay on top of them and relax

Also if they wash his hair he will hiss

Spooked of loud shower noises

Brahms Heelshire

Oh a bath? With them? Oh my how splendid

Wanna remind yall that Brahms is british

Hes gonna be all nice 🥰 if s/o promises him reward afterwards of course

He gonna look like wet dog, and he will stare into their soul

He will literally toss them into bathtub tbh. Why he has to be only one feeling like cat in puddle

Will splash playfully. And look where he shouldn't look at

This devil loves laying in chilly water😔

Also it sounds weird but pls help him shave he never did that and he looks bab

Asa Emory

Goodluck this guy bathes in water that hot theres steam around bathtub

Maybe he's just burning his skin on purpose?? Incase there was anybugs on him?? Or maybe he just likes feeling of his homeland, hell

He falls asleep in there, no matter if s/o is there or nah

But he will cuddle, ah wet cuddles yay. Tbh its rare for him to cuddle so ig he just needs hot atmosphere (litteraly)

Some bugs only mate in hot weathers anyway

Will take good care of them. Wash their hair, take out all creams and gels they use in their normal skin routine.

Jason Voorhees

You either have to have huge bathtub or lay on him for whole proces

He gonna be so nervous, he doesnt want them to get spooked by his face

Hes also terrified of water so s/o has to give him a lot of support and understanding so he can warm up to the idea of being in huge box filled with water

Will do lil splashy to cope

Water will be soso dirty afterwards, this guy was soso dirty he almost shines now

[alphajocklover]

Hey ! Recently, I've heard about a guy in my college, a young jock fresh from high school, that honestly acts very weirdly.

Apparently, his friends all went to local universities, while he moved all the way out to the capital, apparently in a bid to get some "elite" education. But that's not really weird, isn't it.

No, the weird thing starts at how he already acts like he's the king of uni, belittling everyone, including those like me who have been here for quite a few years, acting and even stating that he is the "alpha" of our department - as if such an outdated and so obviously false way of classifying people was even remotely correct. But then, he just goes around stating that he needs some "betas". Now, while I can imagine what they must be, those "yes-men" you see in movies accompanying the bully, I can't even begin to see how he wants to bring that to real life ! Especially since he's not in high school anymore !

Well, whatever. The real thing that creeps me out is how he seems to hang out near me weirdly often... Should that be cause for concern ?

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. I’ve only just seen your message. Hopefully there's still enough time for me to warn you. What you’ve met isn’t human. Not exactly. He’s… more.

Most teenage boys go through puberty with drastic changes. They shoot up, gain a bit of hair and possibly some muscle. Their voice deepens, and of course they get some… urges. It’s all very natural. But some teenage boys undergo a… startling transformation. They don’t just shoot up, they tower. They don’t gain a bit of hair, they grow bushes of it. Some shave it so that they can better show off their muscles, but most don’t. Muscle isn’t just possible for them, it’s inevitable. They’re bodies become beefy and hard, even without exercise, though most still become obsessed with lifting weights and getting even bigger. But what sets these boys, or rather these men, apart from the rest most are their urges. They don’t just feel the need to cum like most guys. They get the urge to dominate. The urge to show their power. The urge to fuck.

These men are what’s known as Alphas. And no, that’s not just some arbitrary classification. This isn’t some guy calling himself an alpha male because he’s an insecure Andrew Tate obsessed bitch. What you are dealing with is a real fucking Alpha. Once they were normal people like you or me, but something… awakened in them at some point. Usually during puberty, as I showed before, but it’s not impossible to have an Alpha discover his true self later in life. These men, if they can be called mere men, are bigger, stronger, more dominant than the average man. Much more dominant. So much so that the world seems to… bend to their will. I don’t know how they do it. Maybe they have some sort of special pheromones, or magic powers. But what I do know is when they want something, it just happens. If they want to be good at something, they just are. If they want to win at something, they just do. If they want the world, it’s served up to them on a silver platter with a protein shake.

And if they want you to be their Beta, you will be their Beta.

I’m not kidding. They can just.. change people. You’ve probably already seen some symptoms, in you and your friends. A sudden interest in fitness, in sports, in ‘bro culture.’ A strange growth spurt, the kind that really shouldn’t happen after puberty. An increased libido, a simpler vocabulary. And most of all, a great admiration for your Alpha. Not just admiration, a deep love. A need to do what he says, be what he says. Once those feelings start it’ll be too late to save you. Soon you’ll be nothing more than his Beta. Everything about you will revolve around what they want.

It’s not the worst fate in the world. Most people think that if a horny Alpha could do whatever they want to you, you’d end up a brainless sex doll. But more often than not what they really want is a bro. Or, more accurately, they want bros. Alphas are so competitive that they rarely are able to spend extended periods of time together. It’s like having two leaders of a pack. Eventually they end up locking horns. So they find, or rather make, Beta bros for them to hang out with. Big, but not as big as their Alpha. Sexy, but not hot enough to take any pussy away from the Alpha. Cool but not cool enough to take any attention away from the Alpha. There are some differences based on what the Alpha wants. Some Betas are stoners, some are jocks, some are surfers and some are skaters. It all depends on the Alphas personal aesthetic and taste. But Betas are all muscular, horny, hung, and completely subservient to their Alphas.

If you’re lucky, you can get out. Move somewhere far away, and forget about all of this. If you’re lucky the Alpha won’t care enough to go after you. You can keep your identity and sense of self intact.

But if you’re not lucky? If you’re too far under his influence? If your Alpha has taken a liking to you and won’t let you go? Well…

… be grateful you’re his Beta bro and not his Beta bitch.

**3 post in 2 days! I feel like I’m on fire! Guess I’m just very motivated to write recently. Anyways I hope you guys liked this one! Hope mentioning Andrew Tate wasn’t too political. I hate to let irl politics ruin my online fun. Enjoy!**