#and if i had put just Hamburger or something

[salchat]

This is my tiny, innocent Dean. I've drawn him for the story I'm working on at the moment, which I'm having tremendous fun with! It's a version of Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca and is my first venture into the omegaverse, because I needed Dean to be the young omega who gets swept off his feet by the older, widowed Castiel Novak.

It could be a couple of weeks before I begin posting, because I have quite a few things to work out. I may add some Secret Garden to the mix, or a dash of Jane Eyre, just for fun. But one thing's for sure - the path to true love will not run smooth! This relationship is going to have a lot of issues to work through!

Anyway, if you'd like to read a scene, there's one below the cut...

The maitre d’s voice rang through the dining room.  “Alpha Castiel Novak!”

“Oh, good heavens!”  Mrs Butters’ shrill exclamation jolted Dean out of his daydreams.  “It's Castiel Novak! No, don't look!”

He had no intention of looking.  It’d just be another more-money-than-sense alpha knothead, puffing himself up to be admired and fawned over.  Dean didn’t give a shit.  Whereas Mrs B wet her panties every time some new high society stiff arrived at the hotel.  Still, spilling her shit-load of toxic gossip meant that Dean wasn’t getting lectured or slapped or whacked with the hard wooden edge of her fan, so he’d put on his best listening face and count it a win.

She leant toward him.  “Castiel Novak is one of The Novaks.  The Novaks, Dean.”

Who the fuck were the Novaks?

“Fabulously wealthy, one of the best traditional families.”

Assholes, then.

“Their estate is in Eversett.”  She frowned.  “Or Meldonshire.  Somewhere like that.”  She waved an airy hand, her eyes glued to the alpha’s position.  “Lebanon, the house is called.  One of the few Great Houses still being managed as it should.  Oh, he's coming this way! Oh good heavens! Oh my!”

Dean anchored his eyes to the salt and pepper set in order not to roll them.  Mrs B might not want to be seen slapping her omega companion in public, but she had a retentive memory for any little slip-up and would be sure to save up one of her best for later if she caught him.

“But sir, we can set another table next to the dance floor for you.  Really, it would be no trouble.”  The maitre d’ was going full-throttle with the smarm.

Dean didn’t catch the words of the response – just a rumble, like something heavy dragging over gravel.

“Or with a view of the terrace.  It would be the work of a moment, Mr Novak.  And a much more pleasant situation.”

The rumble was louder but no more distinct.

“Then please, allow me to bring a bottle of our best champagne.”

The gravel scraped again.  

“Whiskey.  Yes, of course, sir.  And the a la carte menu.”

The gravel stirred itself into a snarl.  Jeez, this guy was more knot-headed than most.

“A hamburger.  Of course, sir.  Followed by a slice of… pie.”  The weird newcomer might as well have requested a lump of dirt followed by a morsel of shit.  Dean couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk.  He couldn’t stop the rumble of his far from satisfied stomach either.

“Dean.”  The fan rapped his knuckles.  But she hadn’t noticed the smirk.  “Dean, stop daydreaming.  Sit up straight.”

Huh.  She was regretting taking the best chair now.  Dean, with the kitchen door flapping open and shut at his back and regular nudges to his chair from passing waiting staff, had a direct view to the next table-for-two.

Mrs B leant toward him.  “What’s he doing?”  Her pink lips moved in an exaggerated stage whisper.

“You want me to look at the alpha…uh, Mr Nover?  Novem?”

“Novak!  And yes, of course I want you to look!  Tell me what he’s doing!”

Dean looked up.  The alphas face was in shadow, downturned as if he were studying the thread-count of the tablecloth.  He had a lot of dark, messy hair.  One hand was visible, a fingertip pressing down on the blade of his fish knife so that the handle wobbled up and down.

“They say he can’t get over the death of his wife, you know.  Such a beauty, so spirited.  Amara was her name.  So sad.”  Restless fingers twitched at the stem of her wine glass.  “What’s he doing?”

“Nothing,” said Dean.  “Just sitting.”

“He must be doing something.”  Mrs B started twisting in her chair but caught herself in time, before she gave herself away as the insatiable rubber-necker that she was at heart.  “Tomorrow you can sit here and I’ll sit there!”

“Yes, ma’am.”  A passing waiter narrowly missed his head with a tray of soup.  She was welcome to Dean’s seat.

“Hasn’t he even smiled at the Contessa?  He must have noticed her, and I’m sure they know each other.  They were both at the Duke or Northerton’s ball two years ago last Christmas.”

The Contessa di Faraglione had been the object of Mrs B’s gossip for the past week since she’d arrived with her retinue of servants the week before.  She was old news now, though.  This Novak guy was the target now, and Dean would be used to help engineer an opportunity of speaking to him, which would be really embarrassing.  Like when Mrs B had made him take her card to the Contessa’s suite, claiming some kind of distant family connection.  The butler had told him to fuck off.  Probably.  Dean didn’t speak Italian.

A gust of warm, savoury air and a swell of noise at his back announced the opening of the kitchen door.  Dean hunched forward so he didn’t get a tray dumped on his head.  But the waiter was one of the more agile.  He swerved around Dean, hung a right and brought the tray down in a sweeping arc, perfectly timed to present its load to the occupant of the next table.

The occupant of the next table looked up at his meal and smiled.

And okay, yeah, it was a nice-looking hamburger.  Normally it would have had Dean transfixed, salivating with envy.  But it wasn’t the juicy patties and shiny, domed bun that brought Dean’s mind, his heart, his every-fucking-thing to a juddering halt.

Dean hadn’t seen the ocean until he was fifteen.  Before that it had been one dusty town after another, Dad dragging him and Sammy around like unwanted baggage.  But when a job had finally taken them to the coast, it’d been like all the heat and grime was washed away by that fresh, salty air.  And the colours in that huge ocean had taken his breath away.

It was the same now.  The drab, grey despair that made up Dean’s life was suddenly gone, and his world was full of ocean blue depths in the eyes of this strange alpha – strange but gorgeous, from his eyes to the soft bow of his lips to the commanding strength of his nose.  

Dean was heartily glad of his over-powdered cheeks.  Fuck, what was he thinking, blushing over some rich alpha who wouldn’t look at Dean once, let alone twice?  He really needed to get a hold of himself.

But the way that guy was looking at the burger was like he hadn’t eaten in years.  Imagine if he looked at Dean that way.  Although, maybe he’d been sick or something.  The shadows beneath his cheek bones looked sharper than they should and beneath his eyes too, little round ridges of dark cast by the bright chandeliers above them.  This alpha needed burgers and plenty of them.  Dean’s skin itched with the need to cook and cosset and caress, and Jesus fucking Christ, he was really losing it here, wasn’t he?  Really giving into his inner lapdog who just needed an alpha to boss him around to be happy.

The waiter flickered across Dean’s vision again and Mr Novak was left alone to enjoy his hamburger.  He picked up his knife and fork and raised them.  Which was a thing you did, Dean supposed, in a high-class dining room.  You ate a burger with a knife and fork.  But then his forehead crinkled into the suggestion of a frown.  He shook his head.  His rounded lips flattened into a tiny smile.  He put down his silverware.  And he picked up the burger in both hands.

“Close your mouth, Dean.”  Mrs B’s spoon scraped her bowl, chink, chink, chink, even though there was hardly any of the creamy sauce left.

Dean closed his mouth.  Then his eyes returned to the table over her shoulder.  Mr Novak hadn’t taken a bite.  He was still holding his hamburger in two hands, staring at it like he’d found the Holy Grail.

Then his eyes flicked up and fastened onto Dean’s.  Dean should look down.  He should drop his eyes like the shitty little omega-nothing that he was.  Instead he stared into the ocean.

And Mr Castiel Novak smiled at him.  Just a little smile.  Barely there before it was gone, and then he was chowing down on his meal, all his attention on his food, his eyes closing as he chewed his first mouthful, then opening again to get a load of the burger cross-section he’d created.  Did it have pickle, Dean wondered?  Mayo, cheese, the works?  Would he bite down through the whole lot, getting all the flavours in at once, in between those perfect pink lips?  And was Dean salivating over the man or the burger?

He was looking at Dean again.  Looking and smiling and nodding as if they were having an actual conversation about how great hamburgers were in general and this one in particular.

“Dean!”  

A sharp pain on his knuckles brought Dean’s attention snapping back to his employer.

“Dean!  Bridge!  The Spanish drawing room!”

“Yes, ma’am.  Sorry, ma’am.”  Bridge.  Of course it was time for bridge.  His world closed in with an almost audible snap.  Bridge was played at eight o’clock sharp every night and Dean and Mrs B were there, every single night; she to play and gossip and drink sherry, he to sit in a corner and try not to exist too loudly until he was needed.

He pushed his chair back, clumsily, and was sworn at by a passing waiter.

“Dean!”

Jeez.  He wasn’t the one who’d sworn, was he?

“Yes, ma’am.”  He rounded the table and pulled out his employer’s chair and collected up her purse and her wrap.  And he didn’t even glance over his shoulder to the most perfect alpha he’d ever seen, as he followed her to another evening of excruciating dullness in his excruciatingly dull life.

[trinketbug]

people getting mad at me for drawing that furry inflation image being at a mcdonalds cuz we're boycotting mcdonalds. first of all mcdonalds is not on the bds boycott list rn. second of all do you think i could afford mcdonalds either way

[medicinemane]

My stomach sounds like some manner of beast right now, just kind of "mhhhrmmhhbbhh"ing, like some sort of creature snuffling and grumbling

[cables-and-wires]

ohhh my god wait. hold on what mental illness is doing this

[444lotus]

how i manifested (+revised) my dream body ౨ৎ

This is my first post on my new account, though I am NOT new to the law and NOT new to loablr either. This post is specifically about how I manifested my dream body instantly with no technique besides knowing :)

PART ONE - the old story

In the old story, I was so fixated on my body and my weight all of the time, I was tracking my calories and weighing myself and my food obsessively and constantly gaining and losing weight. Back then, my beliefs were that 1) Excess food causes weight gain, 2) If I don't track my food and weigh myself, I will become too fat/skinny, and 3) There is something wrong with my body, and I need to diet/exercise to fix it.

Noticing these beliefs were key to changing the way I viewed food and my body, and therefore changing how I knew food to effect me and how I knew my body to be.

When I was overweight, I knew my body was too big, I knew I was eating too much, I knew excess calories made me gain weight. When I was underweight, I knew I had no appetite, I knew I was too bony, I knew that exercise makes you gain muscle which is why I had none, etc. I had to identify the limiting beliefs that made me know my body was a certain way.

PART TWO - writing the new story

Once I identified the beliefs that were holding me back and kept me from my goals ("I know I eat too much, even if I affirm I'm skinny, I'm still going to gain weight."), I could then change them. I wrote down a list of these beliefs, like I did above, and came up with reversals. For example;

"I overeat, so I will gain weight" -> "Calories aren't even real, so I can eat whatever I want and stay the same weight."

"I eat junk food, so I'll never be skinny" -> "I love how fast my metabolism is, I can eat junk all day and still stay so skinny." or "Junk food is just like other foods. Raspberries can't make me fat so neither can hamburgers."

"I don't exercise enough to be toned" -> "It's crazy how I'm naturally so toned and fit without trying."

The key for me was changing key beliefs that kept me dieting and exercising to lose weight, to sever the tie between calories consumed and weight, and hours exercising and muscles. These are limiting beliefs. We literally create our reality. Not ice cream, not soda and chips, none of that can overcome YOU as a divine creator. It sounds silly when you spell it out like that, doesn't it?

PART THREE - how i did it

Okay, now we understand that the secret is to change the rules of our own reality to allow us to know a higher truth (my higher truth? I am a skinny legend). So how do we put this into practice?

All you have to do is know. You set these rules, so you know they are true, reality is bound to them. You must know you are successful, know that reality is in the 4d, and feel truly satisfied in that realm. You can do this using whatever method you need to, but personally, I just knew deep within me that I was my ideal weight, and that nothing could change that, that is simply the reality, that is simply the way things are. I thought about old pictures I took of myself, and remembered how skinny I looked in them, I thought about the last time I saw my friends and how much littler they said I'd gotten, I thought about the last time I stood on the scale and how it read the exact weight I knew myself to be. And I just knew, deep within me, that was simply how things were.

And the last step, for me, was to feel truly joyful at this realization. To feel satisfied it came into fruition. Without seeking confirmation, because I already KNEW.

And what do you know? Pictures of myself in my phone from weeks ago, they were my ideal body. The girl I saw in the mirror when I stood up from my meditation? She had my ideal body. My clothes? XS and S, all of them. I had revised my ideal body all the way back to the day I bought them. And confirmed this by checking pictures I took in the dressing room.

I'm telling you right now it is possible if you know in your heart you've always had your desire. It's always been fulfilled within you. You make the rules because you are a divine creator. Nothing outside of you can change what you know to be true.

That's all for now ౨ৎ

[sugar-grigri]

Denji no longer has access to his heart

The golden rule in Chainsaw Man is to focus on the title, since it's the key to reading the story.

Rain, Brothel, Removal seem to be three absurdly unrelated elements, and Fujimoto likes to put it that way, because the challenge for the reader is to find a way of reading that links them together.

This chapter is funny as well as disturbing, deeply sad, and in itself this collection of sensations just makes you uncomfortable, since the tone is always reversed, and the protagonist himself refuses to allow his situation to be a comic spring.

Fujimoto confirms an interpretation that is fundamental to understanding Denji: his character thinks only in terms of short-term objectives, incapable of projecting himself, just as he responds only to the satisfaction of needs without being able to verbalize and think about his unhappiness in a more abstract way.

Denji, for example, isn't thinking about whether sex is actually a solution to his problems, no, it's more concrete than that: he's thinking about whether he's masturbated recently.

Another piece of evidence is the rain. I've always thought that when it rains in Fujimoto's works, it's proof that no lies are being told.

Whether in Look Back with a silent victory, the school moment with Reze and Denji.

But that's not what we're interested in here, because there's no doubt that Denji is sincere, or at least the rain only shows us that he's sincerely desperate.

There's a subtlety....

Denji complains that he only thinks with his dick, but there's another, more philosophical and certainly less funny idea behind this: Denji only thinks through his body.

The rain, the amputation, the brothel - they're all proof that Denji only thinks with his senses.

Denji thought the brothel was the solution to his distress, it's when it started raining that he collapsed, as if the change in weather had evoked his own emotional change. Yoru's solution is amputation, another physical sensation and solution.

Amputation is a solution all the more symbolic because it's antithetical to what Denji is: a demon man capable of regeneration.

To amputate is in itself not to regenerate, and not to regenerate is in itself to be more human.

What distinguishes us from animals (although science relativizes this) is the way we think about our own emotions, something Denji is incapable of doing, or at least has great difficulty in doing.

This doesn't mean he can't verbalize it at all, but when he evokes, he evokes a sensation, a dish (a shitty hamburger, a steak, a ton of sex).

Even when he wants to be loved, Denji formulates it in the form of wanting his heart, almost organically.

No one wants Denji's heart because it's gone

And it makes sense, because Pochita has reassembled his entire body, except for Denji's heart, which has literally been left in that garbage can.

That's why, when Pochita lets Denji access his feelings, the place is symbolized by a garbage can.

When Denji asks Pochita to wake up to find Nayuta, Pochita asks him where his legs are, because Denji's only function is to be a body.

And now everything makes sense again

When Denji spoke his dream to Pochita, being Chainsaw Man, I think there was a certain feeling in every reader: what exactly does it change?

What if it changes nothing? It's normal for Denji not to be able to project himself in the long term, as he should symbolically listen to his heart.

Denji's inability to have a dream, a goal for the future, is symbolized by him and Pochita as children.

It doesn't mean that Pochita is an antagonist (although that could be cool), but that Denji and Pochita are prisoners of their own situations.

Denji doesn't have access to his heart, but Pochita is contractually bound to what Denji wants.

This is also why, when Denji reproaches himself, it's his child self who's addressing him, because the only way to reproach himself, to feel guilty, is symbolized by his old self, the Denji that Pochita may have known. Just as Denji doesn't have access to his heart, Pochita has difficulty gaining access to the person Denji has become, all of which only leads to stagnation.

Denji as a child is also the symbol of a scumbag, the remnant of a lost heart, always dressed in poor, dirty clothes, a past that Denji seeks to escape, but a past that is the only time Pochita has been able to get to know Denji.

I know it's a pretty crazy line, but it's precisely because Denji is Chainsaw Man - a being both fused and disconnected - that he thinks with his dick lol

Saving Chainsaw Man by killing Chainsaw Man has never been a truer statement

Chainsaw Man is Denji's prison but also his only hope

A cage

[buttahpie]

something that has me absolutely gutted over john, paul and george is the fact that they met when they were young teenagers.

paul was shorter than john when they met. i’m sure his voice hadn’t fully dropped yet either.

john quite literally watched them grow taller than him (i know he and george were about the same height but my point still stands, he watched his younger friends turn into peers turn into completely realized adult men).

and of course john was growing right with them. the de facto leader in the early years making it up as he went as these teenage boys looked up to him. have you seen a 19 year old try to act put together?

i look back at pictures of my friends from high school and i when we were 14-17 and we’ve already changed so much. round faces are sharper, life experience is deeper. i met up with my best friend from childhood for dinner a few months ago (at a bar, we went from polly pockets to IPAs ((i hate IPAs)) ) and i had the striking thought: suddenly we aren’t little girls anymore. but we still had our entire life shared. all those memories, all that drama from middle school to still rant about.

it was the same for those three boys.

i just think that adds a level of depth to their friendship and band that couldn’t be orchestrated.

think about their inside jokes. think about a 28 year old john lennon laughing at a joke that paul made from when they were 16 and 18. think about a 34 year old george smirking as he mumbles to himself a phrase only they would understand from their hamburg days. think about an 82 year old paul fondly remembering a hand gesture they would do to one another before going on stage and doing it to nancy, trying to explain to her what it meant.

think about how that affected the breakup of the band. after growing up together…did they really have an identity without the others?

it’s like the park bench “we were girls together”… they were boys together.

[pinknatural]

After googling “what to take to a stranger’s birthday party” and reading the top five articles thoroughly, the first two more than once, Castiel has determined that he should either bring candles, wine, or baked goods. 

A candle seems like a good, safe option, but the Walmart candle aisle is overwhelming. How is he supposed to know if Anna’s-friend-Dean likes oaky, woodsy smells versus lavender-linen smells? Castiel likes the one that smells like a waxy apple pie, but who’s to say that opinion is shared? What if he prefers pine, or something called Deep Twilight Mist? Castiel removes the lid for Deep Twilight Mist and smells the cream-colored wax curiously. It smells like the perfume Hael used to spray everywhere when she was eleven. He puts it back on the shelf. 

There’s a candle that smells like cupcakes. It is a birthday party, so perhaps he would like that. Castiel puts it in the blue plastic basket dangling from his arm, then puts it back on the shelf, tilting it so the label is facing perfectly outward. Maybe Anna’s-friend-Dean doesn’t like candles at all. 

Wine. Everyone likes wine. Well, unless Anna’s-friend-Dean is one of those guys who thinks wine is too feminine. Or if he doesn’t drink at all. Or if he drinks too much. Or, perhaps even worse, if he’s some kind of wine connoisseur and will mock Castiel for buying reasonably-priced wine from Walmart and then blacklist Castiel so thoroughly that he will never find a friend in this town. 

Wine and candles are too complex. But everyone likes baked goods. 

Castiel is stopped in the middle of the road, turn signal blinking to indicate that he would like to turn left into his apartment complex, when he realizes that Anna’s-friend-Dean could be diabetic. But the party is at a restaurant that specializes in hamburgers, so probably not. Hopefully not. All Castiel has to do is successfully implement chocolate chip cookies and then melt into the walls at the party. Be pleasant enough company that next time someone has a large event they allow Anna to invite him again. Go to enough social functions that he can claim to have friends and get Anna off his back. Live quietly, working at the Gas-N-Sip and writing papers about the science of Theology and perhaps even going to the library and reading secular fiction.

Castiel has no expectations of finding actual friendship at Anna’s-friend-Dean’s birthday party. Or ever, really. If he ever gets lonely, he can get a cat.

Anna thinks that Castiel and Dean will get along very well. Castiel thinks that living outside of their mother’s influence has made Anna believe in fairytales. Anna has known Castiel his entire life. She knows full well that he has never gotten along very well with anyone. 

Castiel cracks an egg over the batter. Maybe this whole baking thing will impress Anna so much that she’ll stop bothering him about making friends. 

Who knows, maybe these cookies will unlock something else to add to Castiel’s quiet life. He quite likes the idea of baking.

--

The firefighter is very beautiful. Maybe even the most beautiful person Castiel has ever seen, besides models on the sides of buildings who look so perfect they’re fake.

“You the guy who started the fire?” the beautiful firefighter asks. He puts his hands in his pockets. Castiel’s cheeks burn. Not from any fire. 

“They were just burnt cookies,” he says. “I didn’t know they would set off the smoke alarm.” In the entire building. The other firefighters are by the doors, writing things down, talking to other residents of Castiel’s building. How come the beautiful firefighter was the one who had to talk to Castiel? He sneaks a peek at the man’s arms, but they’re sadly covered by his coat. 

“You burned the cookies on purpose, then?” the firefighter raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course I didn’t,” Castiel says. The firefighter has green eyes and freckles splashed across his nose. Castiel wants him to take off his helmet so he can see what his hair looks like. 

“Right,” the firefighter says. 

“Am I in trouble?” Castiel asks. 

“No,” the firefighter says. He winks. Castiel feels his heart literally skip a beat. “Not a crime to burn cookies. Losing out on the cookies is punishment enough.”

“They weren’t for me,” Castiel says. “They were for a birthday party. Tonight.” For some reason, he wants the firefighter to know that he has a social life. Never mind if the social life was enforced upon him by his older sister.

“A birthday party? Today? Who’s hosting? I gotta fight for my honor.”

Castiel is baffled. What honor? What fight?

“What?”

“Everyone will come,” the firefighter says. He makes a pose, as if he’s flexing. “To see me and this other guy fight to see who’s the Supreme Birthday Boy.” He stretches one arm out, pointing it to the sky, then he opens his fist. “Pow! It’ll be me, of course.” He turns to look back at Castiel. His mouth is very pink. Castiel wishes he understood what words were coming out of it. 

“It’s my birthday, too,” the firefighter says after a moment, when Castiel doesn’t react.

“Oh,” Castiel says. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“I dunno. Trying to be funny, I guess.”

“Oh,” Castiel says again. Behind the firefighter, he sees that the other residents of his apartment building are filing back inside. For some reason, despite the January chill, Castiel doesn’t want to go back in. Not yet. 

“You know, usually this is the part where people say happy birthday,” the firefighter says. 

“Happy birthday,” Castiel repeats. 

“Thanks!” the firefighter beams. “So do you think I should crash your friend’s party tonight?”

“No,” Castiel says, alarmed at the thought. A firefighter, and probably a bunch of other firefighters, crashing Castiel’s opportunity to stand beside the wall, holding a cup of sprite? When Castiel shows up with store-bought baked goods? And this beautiful firefighter will point right at him and say that Castiel invited them and then Anna’s-friend-Dean will hate him forever, and probably Anna will too? “Also, he’s not my friend.”

“He’s not? Then why are you going to his party?”

“He’s my sister’s friend,” Castiel explains. “I’ve never met him. She thinks I need to leave the house more.” Too late, Castiel remembers that he was supposed to pretend he had a flourishing social life. Oops. 

“Wait,” the firefighter says. His eyes sparkle. “Are you Anna’s brother? Cas-something?”

“Castiel,” he says, with the patience of someone who has had to explain his name a million times. He narrows his eyes. “How did you know that?”

“Dude,” the firefighter says, laughing. “I’m Dean.”

Anna’s-friend-Dean is a beautiful firefighter, with green eyes and freckles? Anna’s-friend-Dean is the Supreme Birthday Boy? Anna’s-friend-Dean probably has very muscular arms, under his uniform?

“Oh,” Castiel says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” the firefighter says. 

“Winchester! Wrap it up!” one of the firemen calls from the truck. Castiel realizes that all the firefighters are about to leave, and everyone from his building is already back inside. When did that happen?

“Be there in a minute!” Dean hollers over his shoulder. When he looks back at Castiel, he grins almost shyly. “You were gonna make me cookies?”

“Yes, I--I thought it would be an appropriate thing to bring.” Castiel wonders again if Dean could be diabetic. Or perhaps allergic to something in chocolate chip cookies. Are chocolate chips made in a peanut-free facility? Maybe Castiel should’ve bought wine, after all.

“Hell yeah,” Dean says. “Whoever said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach was dead-fuckin’-on. But, uh.”

“But?” Castiel is sure, suddenly, that Dean is about to reject him and tell him not to come to his birthday party after all. Which would be a shame, because all of a sudden Castiel wanted to go.

“My favorite dessert is pie,” Dean says like a confession. 

“Oh,” Castiel says, eyes widening. Maybe he can swing by the bakery--maybe he can look up a bakery, and then swing by it--on the way to the party. Assuming he’s still going. 

“And, uh, not to toot my own horn, but I make a pretty mean one. I actually made myself a birthday pie, and I was gonna eat it alone, but maybe…I mean…”

“Yes?” Castiel asks. Dean is slightly taller than him, so he tilts his head back to meet his eyes. Dean swallows. Castiel watches his adam’s apple bob.

“Well, I could swing by after my shift is done,” Dean says. “Bring it with me. We could share. Before we go to the Roadhouse, I mean. If you want.”

“I want,” Castiel says before he can think about it. He snaps his mouth shut. Dean brightens. 

“Great,” he says. “I’ll be back. After my shift.”

“When does it end?” Castiel asks. Dean looks at his watch. He grins at Castiel, tongue poking between his teeth.

“Twenty minutes,” he says. 

“Okay,” Castiel says. “I will you soon, then.”

“Yep,” Dean says. “Gimme about an hour, okay? And then we’ll have pie.” 

“Okay,” Castiel says. Dean turns to head back to the firetruck. “What kind of pie?” Cas calls after him. Dean turns. 

“Apple!” he calls. Castiel stands outside, in the January chill without his coat, for a long while after the truck leaves. What a strange man, making his own birthday pie. What a lovely man, sharing it with a stranger. Supreme Birthday Boy, indeed.

--

When Dean returns, in a soft flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up, revealing his magnificent forearms, his hair a spiky mess that Castiel wants to run his fingers through, he has, as promised, an apple pie. And Castiel has a present for him. 

When Dean opens it, he laughs until he almost cries. He lights it right away, and the lingering aroma of burnt chocolate chip cookies is chased away by the apple pie candle from Walmart, a bright, steady little flame flickering between them.

(ao3)

[missbluesunflowersstuff]

Some batfamily headcanon

They all have auditory processing disorder at this point, except for Damian and Duke

Damian is the youngest and Bruce and the others protect him most and Duke uses armor plus his powers makes him a little difficult to get hurt

Dick is partially deaf in his left ear and Tim is partially deaf in his right ear

Bruce and Jason suffer from chronic pain

If Steph or Damian just stopped and went into some blank state for more than two minutes call the most responsible adult near immediately, they are having an anxiety attack (they just freeze and stare at nothing, this is their anxiety attack)

Tim has narcolepsy actually this is why he has the worst sleeping schedule of them all

(Tim's narcolepsy may be undiagnosed, diagnosed but his parents hid the result, Tim refuses to take his medication because he believes he can "handle" it, it's up to you)

Jason, Cass and Damian have PTSD

(all of them have it actually, but these three have the worst attacks)

Dick emergency contact is Donna Troy

and it doesn't matter what the batfamily do or say, Dick is always puts Donna as his emergency contact

Damian emergency contact is Maya Ducard

Damian had a lot of nightmares in him early years, the family takes turns to take care of it

Jason and Damian have intrusive thoughts (hurt the others and hurt themselves, Jason villain era was basically 'I let my intrusive thoughts win' ) - today Damian handled it better than Jason did in the past (Jason I love you, but I will never forgive you for what you did to Mia Dearden)

Bruce created a lot of personas for his work and because of it Dick created the "hamburger theory"

If he accepts the hamburger and eats it with both hands it's Batman; if he starts eating his hamburger with fork and knife it's Bruce Wayne; if he's holding the burger with a napkin and smile it's Brucie; but if he rejected the hamburger just run, it's not safe near him in that moment

Dick made this theory when he still was a Robin and this is some 'don't tell dad' information between all of the kids

They usually share information with Cass in audio to help her understand, Babs still helps her with how to read but she prefers to use emojis or audio messages

Cass may or may not respond to their audio, but she will view it

Bruce and the others have no clue about Dick real health status because the only person who has legal rights to it is Donna and she doesn't share with them

One time Tim tried to steal Damian medical records to put in their data, he found out that Maya already did that and now she is the only person in the world legally allowed to have that information

Both Dick and Damian don't regret their decision because they really trust in their sisters more than the bats

(and yes, Bruce feels breyated because of this)

14!Damian is still a little afraid of sleeping, because he doesn't know what kind of dream he might have (he doesn't have nightmares like he used to, but the anxiety is still there)

Duke and Damian usually hang out more than the others; one time Steph asks why in the common channel and Duke only answers "you know that me and him are basically immortals, right? When everyone leaves, we'll still be here" (Duke is immortal because of his powers and Damian... Do you really think his family would allow him die?)

No one knows exactly the kind of shit Damian was submitted in the league and as Tim falls in get his medical records they'll never knows

The same applicants for Cass trying, what exactly Cain did with her is something she'll never tell

Jason actually has amnesia from his league days or some kinda of weird and very selective amnesia, everything just looks like a blur to him

Jason believes that he was hypnotized to forget everything or some weird magic stuff. But on some nights, in the silence of his room, Jason still seems like a fat baby lying near him, he wonders who is the baby and who they are now...

Some days, because of his chronic pain, Bruce uses a cane to walk around the house, but only inside

[watchmegetobsessed]

THE FINAL SHOW

A/N: last night was a rollercoaster of emotions and i still can't believe love on tour is over, but it will always have a special place in my heart. one thing is for sure, im sill here and i will continue writing for this amazing human until he returns onto the stage where he belongs.

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

SUMMARY: You made a promise in the beginning of Love On Tour and now it's catching up with you and though your heart wants you to keep your word, you know it's not that easy, because it's about your boss, the person who matters the most to you.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You should have learned by now that Harry Styles never forgets.

He remembers every birthday, anniversary, every story anyone tells him, he remembers fans he has interacted with and he is extremely good with names. It’s definitely one thing you admire about him.

But know this tiny detail about him did not teach you to watch what you say around him, because he will recite your words even years later.

It’s been an on and off tango between the two of you for a long time. As his assistant, you’ve been dancing on the line of being professional and jumping into his bed whenever he does as so much as looking at you with those stupid, gorgeous eyes. He is your job, you keep telling that to yourself, but deep down you know he is more than just that.

He is… everything.

It would be easier if he only saw you as his assistant, but that’s not the case. Just how you caught those certain feelings, Harry has shown interest towards you, on several occasions, flirting with you bluntly, asking you out every possible chance.

And each time, when you turned down, a voice in your head screamed at you, but your rationality has been stronger so far and it hasn’t let you take that leap that would change everything forever.

Now, back to his immaculate memory.

You’d been working for him for over a year when the first European leg of Love On Tour was about to start, the residency shows were set to be announced and along with the South American, Australian and Asian dates and another full European leg was in the planning phase. Tour was looking endless and everyone on the team was joking that there won’t be a final show of Love On Tour.

Following another meeting in Harry’s LA home you were hanging out by his pool, something that happened quite often, because he liked to share what he had with the people around him. The sun was setting and you both had several glasses of wine, so the business talk has been long forgotten when you ordered food for the two of you.

You were in the shallow, lounge area of the pool where you could sit in the water and you were enjoying a hamburger while he was swimming around, watching you. You caught him looking right in the middle of a huge bite.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he swam closer with a grin on his face.

“You look amazing.”

You snorted out loud, mouth full and probably smelling like onions.

“I’m sure I do,” you sarcastically said. “Is this what turns you on? Chewing and onion smell?”

“No. It’s you.”

You stopped and gave him a suspicious look. He moved over and sat beside you.

“You turn me on, Y/N,” he added, when you didn’t say anything, just leisurely staring back at you, as if he hadn’t just overstepped a major boundary between boss and employee.

“Harry, stop,” you mumbled, putting the remainder of your burger to the plate at the edge of the pool.

“What? You started it with guessing what turns me on.”

“It was just a joke!”

“Okay, and I told you the truth.”

“You definitely shouldn’t be saying shit like that to me.”

“Too late, already did, so I think we could take it even further,” he shrugged and you couldn’t hold back a laugh.

“Oh, you are something else, Harry Styles, you know that?”

“That didn’t sound like a no to me,” he grinned, moving just a tad bit closer, but still respecting your private space. “I really want to kiss you, Y/N,” he bluntly added and you knew it was the wine talking from him, sober Harry wouldn’t have said those words out loud, but it didn’t fail to make you feel dizzy and weak.

“That’s not gonna happen now,” you shook your head.

“Okay, if not now, then when?”

“You are so annoying,” you laughed again. “You know what? You can kiss me when Love On Tour officially ends,” you joked.

It was a genuine joke. Anyone would have known you didn’t mean it, but it was Harry you said it to and the moment the words left your mouth they burned into his memories forever.

“Alright then,” he simply said, splashed you and then swam away.

That was the beginning of 2022. You slept off the wine and though you never forgot you said it, you didn’t keep track of the promise you initially made.

Harry did, however.

Not one day went by without him thinking about those words and it was the only reason he was looking forward for the very last show of Love On Tour.

He’s been acting weird, probably since about Vienna. With two weeks until the end of tour and his break, your workload hasn’t gotten less so you couldn’t really care about his weirdness, but when you’re out for dinner in Barcelona with the band and some other crew members and two rounds of drinks have been consumed already, you finally acknowledge the change.

“Hey, you alright?” You poke your elbow into his side, stealing a fry from his plate. Shrugging, he pushes the plate closer to you.

“Just thinking.”

“About what?” you ask, snacking on his leftover fries.

“The end of tour.”

Freezing you instantly remember to that one conversation in his pool. You peek at him and find him already looking at you with a gaze that burns right into your heart. Clearing your throat you turn back to the fries and pretend like you don’t remember the promise you made.

“Just two more weeks and you’re free.”

“That’s not how I see it.”

“Mmm,” you hum, but don’t dare to look at him. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face, but luckily, before he could bring up anything specific Mitch call out his name from across the table and you’re relieved. For now.

It’s almost midnight when you all head back to the hotel and you and Harry somehow end up at the back of the group. The elevator is too full for the two of you to get in as well, so you wait for another round. While you’re still ignoring to look at him, he is very much only looking at you, it feels like.

The elevator returns and you get inside, but Harry pushes the button for the top floor.

“Hey, that’s—“

“I want to show you something,” he hold up a hand.

The top of the hotel has a rooftop bar with an amazing view of the city, the perfect grid of the streets, it’s breathtaking.

“I knew you would like it,” he smiles, leaning against the railing next to you, with his back towards the view, as if he was way more interested in seeing you than the city.

“Because you know me so well,” you chuckle softly.

“I do,” he answers quietly. “We have only four more shows.”

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes glued to the view in front of you.

“The final show of Love On Tour is in ten days.”

“I’m glad you keep track of the shows so well, I feel like I’m not even needed anymore,” you joke with a chuckle, but when you finally look at him you know why he is bringing all of these up.

“Do you remember what you promised would happen when the last show finally comes?”

“Harry…”

“You do,” he simply says. “I know you as someone who keeps her word.”

“It’s… Harry, that was never a promise, I was just joking!”

“None of it is a joke to me, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes, but hate the effect his words have on you. Like your whole inside is on fire, begging to just give in finally, to end this years long game and act on the feelings you’ve been pushing down so hard all this time.

Sighing you cross your arms over your chest. You want to make fun out of it again and say that it was all just about a kiss, but you know, you both know that it would never stop at one kiss, that it’s bigger than that and it would consume you fully if you let your walls down.

“This seems like a big mistake,” you tell him honestly. “What if it goes wrong and… I lose my job… and you.”

Your voice breaks at the end and you can’t look him in the eyes. You’ve spent endless nights thinking about what would happen if you gave in and it all went downhill. Your job might be the last thing on the list of worries, what really scares you is to imagine a version of your life without him because.

It would break you.

“Being scared of the wrong outcome will keep you away from the best things in your life, Y/N.”

“Did you just call yourself the best thing in my life?” you try to joke, but he just gives you a look.

“Don’t think about the what ifs, if you get there, you’ll figure it out. You always do. We always do.”

“This is not that simple,” you shake your head. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“But it is,” he chuckles, but you keep shaking your head. “Figuring out my feelings has never been this simple.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence when not even you know whether you’re about to give in or not and for a split second it actually feels like you’re breaking, but something pulls you back last minute.

“No. And we should be heading back, you have a show tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”

You step away from the railing and start walking back, but when you notice that he’s not coming you turn around and see him staring at the city this time. Opening your mouth you’re about to call out for him, but then change your mind and let him be, walking back to your room.

When you see him again in the morning he doesn’t bring it up again and you’re convinced he won’t bring your promise up again.

The last show has everyone all over the place, you’ve been running around since about six in the morning, picking up people, making sure the hotel check-ins go smoothly and everything is exactly how it should be. The day feels like a whole week, but the excitement and bittersweet sadness that’s been wrapped around everyone is what keeps you up on your feet still.

But the real weight of the last show hits the moment it finally starts.

This is the time when you have nothing to do so you watch Harry perform every night, meaning that this is the 169th time you’re seeing him take the stage and perform just as perfectly as he did at the first, the fiftieth and one hundredth show. He always gives his absolute most. Not just at his shows, but in his life as well. That’s one of the million reasons you fell for him.

Medicine has everyone dying, all 100 thousand people out there and then Harry starts giving his speech that’s extra long this time, talking about how grateful he is for everything, for his fans, his friends and family and it’s one big emotional mess and you can’t help but cry a bit as well, watching from the side.

“The last two years of my life, the last two years of this tour has been the greatest experience I could ever ask for…”

“I see it, the love, in how it’s affected all the people around me, continue to affect people. It does not end with this tour.”

“I love you, thank you so much.”

Screaming rolls over the crowd as an answer and you expect him to go on with starting As It Was, but then he starts talking again.

“There is one more thing I want to say tonight. I have learned and experienced so much in the past years. I will be forever thankful for the memories we’ve made.”

There. He said we, he switched up his narrative. That’s how you know he is not talking to the crowd. He is talking to you.

“If this is it, if it never goes beyond this, I would live a happy life. With you forever in my heart. But if we ever take it further, if we ever take the risk and reach for the stars and we might fall… just know that I will always be here for you. You can never lose me. No matter what. I love you.”

You suck on your breath, covering your mouth with your hand as you stare at him stand in the middle of the stage, staring out ahead of him, the crowd screaming for him, oblivious to the one sided conversation that just happened between you and him.

As It Was starts and the show carries on towards the end, but you’re still frozen in that moment and when the show ends and you watch Harry drop to his knees on the stage, you know things will never be the same.

Backstage is like a tornado once the show is over, the band walks off the stage and Harry is following right behind with Lloyd by his side, but when he sees you standing still in the middle of the madness, he drops out of the conversation right away and stops a few feet away from you, letting you decide where to go now.

“You promise?” you breathe out, your throat closing up. “You promise I will never lose you?”

“I thought that was clear by now, Y/N,” he replies, his chest still rapidly rising and falling. “But if you need me to actually say it, I will. You will never lose me, no matter what. It will always be you and me and I know you’re scared, but I’m—“

He doesn’t get to finish, because you’re already throwing yourself into his arms and kissing him.

It doesn’t matter that the whole crew bursts out into screaming and whistling, that you’re giving a second show with the way you get lost in each other, because in your little bubble it’s just you and Harry and everything that’s been building between the two of you.

Every joke, every teasing comment, all the stolen looks and suppressed feeling that was never acted on is now free, they all burst out of your chest and into the electricity that’s snaking around you as you keep taking more and more of him, hungry to make up for the past years.

The clapping dies down when you finally pull back, forehead resting against his, his hands holding you so tight as if he was afraid you might run away any moment.

“You kept your promise. I knew you were trusty, Y/N Y/L/N,” he chuckles, pecking your lips softly again as you laugh at his words, finally opening your eyes to look at him.

“Actually I feel like I kissed you. I promised you could kiss me, so technically—“

“Shut up, you’re already getting on my nerves,” he laughs, kissing you over and over again, so your promise is actually fulfilled. “Can’t wait for you to do that every day for the rest of my life.”

“I thought that was part of my job too, have I not been doing that?” you tease, lips moving against his as you speak.

“You have, but you can take it to a whole new level now,” he laughs, pulling you against him before letting you go and popping the bubble, though his hand never lets go of yours, not while everyone congratulates him, not when the final show celebrations start and not when he pulls you into his hotel room to end this journey of Love On Tour with you by his side, but also start a new chapter.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[gardenschedule]

just insane mclennon things

John playing his and Yoko's sex tape in a band meeting

As the meeting was drawing to a weary close, John, not this day with Yoko, who hadn’t seemed particularly connected with what was going on, said he wanted to play us a tape he and Yoko had made. He got up and put the cassette into the tape machine and stood beside it as we listened. The soft murmuring voices did not at first signal their purpose. It was a man and a woman but hard to hear, the microphone having been at a distance. I wondered if the lack of clarity was the point. Were we even meant to understand what was going on, was it a kind of artwork where we would not be able to put the voices into a context, and was context important? I felt perhaps this was something John and Yoko were examining. But then, after a few minutes, it became clear. John and Yoko were making love, with endearments, giggles, heavy breathing, both real and satirical, and the occasional more direct sounds of pleasure reaching for climax, all recorded by the faraway microphone. But there was something innocent about it too, as though they were engaged in a sweet serious game. John clicked the off button and turned again to look toward the table, his eyebrows quizzical above his round glasses, seemingly genuinely curious about what reaction his little tape would elicit. However often they’d shared small rooms in Hamburg, whatever they knew of each other’s love and sex lives, this tape seemed to have stopped the other three cold. Perhaps it touched a reserve of residual Northern reticence. After a palpable silence, Paul said, “Well, that’s an interesting one.” The others muttered something and the meeting was over. It occured to me as I was walking down the stairs that what we’d heard could have been an expression of 1960s freedom and openness but was it more likely that it was as if a gauntlet had been thrown down? “You need to understand that this is where she and I are now. I don’t want to hold your hand anymore.”

Paul putting beetles fucking on his album artwork

John hiring a pig and posing with it solely to mock Ram even though he was scared of it

At the end of the day a farmer delivered a huge hog to the mansion [Tittenhurst Park]. It was John’s notion to parody the album jacket photograph of Paul McCartney’s Ram, which showed Paul wrestling with a ram; John would wrestle with a pig. We all went outside and stared at the large surly animal. It was much bigger than any of us had expected. John circled the animal warily. He liked the idea, but he didn’t like the hog. Dan stood poised to snap the picture. “Climb on its back, John, and grab its ears,” he said. John looked doubtful. He stepped closer to the animal. It let out a shrill, strange, sound. John stepped back, but we all urged him on. “You can do it, John,” I said. John approached the animal once again. “I can’t hold the friggin’ pig for too long. You get one shot and one shot alone,” he told Dan.

Loving John: The Untold Story, May Pang

John & Yoko attempting to get revenge married in Paris 2 days after Paul & Linda

“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible”

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The life

We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else first. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required.

John Lennon

SALEWICZ: Well, I always found it interesting the fact that he got – I mean, it seemed too much like coincidence to me, the fact that he got married a week or month after you. You know what I mean? PAUL: Yeah. I think we spurred each other into marriage. I mean, you know. They were very strong together, which left me out of the picture. So I got together with Linda and then we got strong with our own kind of thing. And I used to listen to a lot of what they said. I remember him saying to me, “You’ve got to work at marriage,” which is something I still remember as a bit of advice. I still remember that. Um… And then yeah, I think they were a little bit peeved that we got married first. Probably. In a little way, you know, just minor jealousies. And so they got married. I don’t know if that’s – I mean, who knows… [inaudible] making it up, anyway.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London): journalist Chris Salewicz

Their belief in telepathy & shared dreams

NEIL: I’d just rather not say anything. It’s one of those situations. PAUL: Yeah. [pause] Well, that’s – that’s the trouble you see, there, ‘cause that’s it. It’s like, with our – heightened awareness, the answer is not to say anything, you know. But it isn’t. ‘Cause I mean, we screw each other up totally if we don’t do that. ‘Cause we’re not ready for your heightened… vows of silence. [laughs; hapless] We’re really not! Like, we don’t know what the fuck each other’s talking about, when that – we all just sort of get— NEIL: I think it’s just between the four of you, that get it. That’s what I’d pretend. PAUL: Oh yeah, right, yeah. But you see, that’s it, that’s why John doesn’t say anything. ‘Cause he, you know, he just… There was something the other day, when I said, “Well, what do you think?” And he just stood there and didn’t say anything. And then – and I know exactly why, you know. I mean, I wouldn’t, if… [long pause] Somehow. You know, there’s nothing really much to be said about it. You just – we all just have to do it, and all that, instead of like talking about it. But – but if one of us is talking about it, it’s a drag if the other three aren’t. Because then it sort of throws you off. [inaudible; voice marking tape slate] I mean, we’ve just been talking about it now for a few years, you know. Like this…

From the Get Back sessions (13 January 1969).

HINDLE: What do you think about language? JOHN: I think it’s a bit crummy, you know? It is a drag form of communication, really. We’ll get – we’ll get telepathy. I believe that. HINDLE: You believe that? JOHN: Yeah, sure. Sure. Sure as anything I believe. It’s too… Because now we need it so much. [...] There are – there’s people everywhere of the same mind and it’s just… even amongst ourselves we can’t communicate. Which is the hard bit, you know. HINDLE: Yeah. JOHN: Amongst the people that sort of really agree. HINDLE: Just ’cause of words? JOHN: Just ’cause of words, and upbringing, and attitude, and how you express your… Well, it’s just some – you’ve got to find a mutual sort of language to express yourself, you know? And my language is that— HINDLE: Unless you fall in love it’s impossible to communicate like that. JOHN: I mean, I wasn’t in love last year, but I was communicating quite well with people. Not as well, or maybe not as powerfully. ’Cause now there’s two of us, doing that, brrmmm, whatever it is. Sending out a vibration or whatever. But before it was me and… or me and George, alright, or whatever it was; we weren’t in love, but. You know. There’s enough in you to shove it out. It is just that bit. If you – if somebody comes in a room and he’s uptight and that, he can make the whole room uptight.

John Lennon, interviewed by Maurice Hindle (December 1968).

PAUL: I remember when John and I were first hanging out together, I had a dream about digging in the garden with my hands. I’d dreamt that before but I’d never found anything other than an old tin can. But in this dream I found a gold coin. I kept digging and I found another. And another. The next day I told John about this amazing dream I’d had and he said, ‘That’s funny, I had the same dream’. So both of us had this dream of finding this treasure. And I suppose you could say it came true. I remember years later talking about it – ‘Remember that dream we had?’; ‘Yeah, that was far out’. So the message of that dream was: keep digging lads.

PAUL MCCARTNEY TO THE BIG ISSUE. FEBRUARY 2012.

John climbing the wall to Paul's house because Paul skipped a session for his & Linda's anniversary

(Not confirmed but supposedly)

Paul being utterly convinced that John can't be gay because he didn't try it on when they slept in the same bed

I mean, if John was–the trouble is, see, is he’s not here to fend for himself, and we can’t ask him, “‘Scuse me, John, are you–have you ever been gay?” I mean, he’s the kind— I remember people used to ask that. There were lots of people asking cheeky questions, and they were always saying, “Well, why–have you ever tried homosexuality, John?” You know, they always used to ask all that kind of stuff. I remember John saying to them, “No, I’ve never met a fella I fancy enough.” And that was his kind of opinion. You know, “I may go–I may be gay one day, if some fella really turns me on.” He was–he was that open about it. But as far as I was concerned, I slept in a million hotel rooms–as we all did–slept in a million places with John, and there was never any hint of it.

December 24th, 1983: interview with DJ Roger Scott

“And I say, if he’s homosexual, I thought he’d have made a pass at me in 20 years, darling.”

Paul McCartney talking about John Lennon.

“Brian Epstein, the Beatles’ manager, was a known homosexual. Epstein was always polite and charming. It has been insinuated that John was drawn to Epstein. I believe there was no such relationship between them. John was macho. But if John was a homosexual, it would have made no difference to me. I’ve asked Paul McCartney, who laughed and said: ‘Why not me? I’m handsome.’ Then he said: ‘I was holed up with John in hotel rooms everywhere. There was never a suggestion of anything like that.’ I believe him.”

Julia Baird, in Boston Globe: Lennon’s half-sister remembers… (2 October 1988).

“All I can ever say about it is that I slept with John a lot because you had to, you didn’t have more than one bed - and to my knowledge John was never gay.”

Paul McCartney, The Brian Epstein Story

And maybe he's right to be offended?

Did Lennon have sex with other men? “I think he had a desire to, but I think he was too inhibited,” says Ono. “No, not inhibited. He said, ‘I don’t mind if there’s an incredibly attractive guy.’ It’s very difficult: They would have to be not just physically attractive, but mentally very advanced too. And you can’t find people like that.” So did Lennon ever have sex with men? “No, I don’t think so,” says Ono. “The beginning of the year he was killed, he said to me, ‘I could have done it, but I can’t because I just never found somebody that was that attractive.’ Both John and I were into attractiveness—you know—beauty.”

Yoko Ono: I Still Fear John’s Killer by Tim Teeman for the Daily Beast (13 October 2015).

There was even some discussion, albeit not very serious, of whether he should stick to his own gender. “John said ‘It would hurt you like crazy if I made it with a girl. With a guy, maybe you wouldn’t be hurt, because that’s not competition. But I can’t make it with a guy because I love women too much, and I’d have to fall in love with the guy and I don’t think I can.’”

Yoko on her and John discussing the terms of an open marriage in 1973 (John Lennon: The Life)

On that note, Paul's obsession with sleeping in the same bed as John

Paul McCartney answers questions for Q magazine, 1998

John and I used to hitch-hike places together, it was something that we did together quite a lot; cementing our friendship, getting to know our feelings, our dreams, our ambitions together. It was a very wonderful period. I look back on it with great fondness. I particularly remember John and I would be squeezed in our little single bed, and Mike Robbins, who was a real nice guy, would come in late at night to say good night to us, switching off the lights as we were all going to bed.

Many Years From Now

John and I always liked wordplay. So, the phrase ‘She’s got a ticket to ride’ of course referred to riding on a bus or train, but – if you really want to know – it also referred to Ryde on the Isle of Wight, where my cousin Betty and her husband Mike were running a pub. That’s what they did; they ran pubs. He ended up as an entertainment manager at a Butlin’s holiday resort. Betty and Mike were very showbiz. It was great fun to visit them, so John and I hitchhiked down to Ryde, and when we wrote the song we were referring to the memory of this trip. It’s very cute now to think of me and John in a little single bed, top and tail, and Betty and Mike coming to tuck us in.

Paul McCartney, on ‘Ticket To Ride’. In The Lyrics (2021).

“John and I grew up like twins although he was a year and a half older than me. We grew up literally in the same bed because when we were on holiday, hitchhiking or whatever, we would share a bed. Or when we were writing songs as kids he’d be in my bedroom or I’d be in his. Or he’d be in my front parlour or I’d be in his, although his Aunt Mimi sometimes kicked us out into the vestibule!”

New Statesman, “Paul McCartney - Meet The Beatle,” September 26, 1997

“I wrote all those songs with him so…. what can I say to people?? We were kids! I mean… we slept together, topped and tailed in beds and hitch-hiking and stuff, so,…. I mean, we were just totally you know,….. mates.”

Paul McCartney

John taking matters into his own hand to start rumours about him and Paul

The consensus among John, Paul and Yoko that if J&P could have been together, they would have

“. . . I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away. And I understood that. I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, “Who’s this?” You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and… But you know I mean in this case I just sort of said, right – I mean, I didn’t say anything, but I could see that was the way it was going to go, and that Yoko would be very sort of powerful for him. So um, we all had to get out the way.”

Paul McCartney, interview with German tv program Exclusiv, April 1985.

JOHN: It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [faltering] An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy, and that’s why there’s always been Beatles or Marx Brothers or men, together. Because it’s alright for them to work together or whatever it is. It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?

John Lennon, interview w/ Sandra Shevey. (Mid-June?, 1972)

Y: After the initial embarrassment, that how Paul is being very nice to me, he’s nice and a very, str- on the level, straight, sense, like wherever there’s something like happening at the Apple, he explains to me, as if I should know. And also whenever there’s something like they need a light man, or something like that he asks me if I know of anybody, things like that. And like I can see that he’s just now suddenly changing his attitude, like his being, he’s treating me with respect, not because it’s me, but because I belong to John. I hope that’s what it is because that would be nice. And I feel like he’s my younger brother or something like that. I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong with me, John, and Paul.

Yoko Ono, Revolution Tape, June 4th 1968

"We thought we'd do a number of an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul.""

As a second choice from the Lennon- McCartney songbook, Elton suggested 'I Saw Her Standing There'. This appealed to John for its antiquity, and because its lead vocal always was sung by Paul. (...) There was a whisper of Royal Variety Show mischief when he announced "a number by an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul" - no one yet knowing the estranged fiancés were long reconciled.

John Lennon: The Life, Philip Norman

You know, John loved Paul. No doubt about it. I remember once he said to me, “I’m the only person who’s allowed to say things like that about Paul. I don’t like it when other people do.” He didn’t like if other people said nasty things about Paul. And he always referred to Paul as his estranged fiancé and things like that, like he did on that [live] record ‘I Saw Her Standing There’ with Elton in Madison Square Garden.

1990: Former Beatles publicist Tony King

Married couple signatures

(and the reverse of that postcard...)

John publicly predicting Paul & Linda's divorce

You were right about New York! I do love it; it's the ONLY PLACE TO BE. (Apart from anything else, they leave you alone too!) I see you prefer Scotland! (MM) -- I'll bet you your piece of Apple you'll be living in New York by 1974 (two years is the usual time it takes you right?)

John's letter to Paul in Melody Maker, 1971 Finally, about not telling anyone that I left the Beatles—PAUL and Klein both spent the day persuading me it was better not to say anything—asking me not to say anything because it would 'hurt the Beatles'—and 'let's just let it petre out'—remember? So get that into your petty little perversion of a mind, Mrs. McCartney—the cunts asked me to keep quiet about it. Of course, the money angle is important—to all of us—especially after all the petty shit that came from your insane family/in laws—and GOD HELP YOU OUT, PAUL—see you in two years—I reckon you'll be out then—inspite of it all, love to you both, from us two.

John's personal letter to Linda & Paul, 1971

JOHN: Oh, [Klein]’d love it if Paul would come back. I think he was hoping he would for years and years. He thought that if he did something, to show Paul that he could do it, Paul would come around. But no chance. I mean, I want him to come out of it, too, you know. He will one day. I give him five years, I’ve said that. In five years he’ll wake up. YOKO: And people don’t understand, you know. There’s so many groups that constantly announce they’re going to split, they’re going to split, and they can announce it every year, and it doesn’t mean they’re going to split. But people don’t understand what an extraordinary position the Beatles are in, you know. In every way. They’re in such an extraordinary position that they’re more insecure than other people. And so Klein thinks he’ll give Paul two years Linda-wise, you know. And John said, “No, Paul treasures things like children, things like that. It will be longer.” And of course, John was right.

John Lennon and Yoko Ono, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

[yourlocalstranger123]

What if MC is just really blunt and just decides one day to ask their fav brother if they can touch their tiddies (pecs)?

(Im talking about Obey me, just in case you’re a bit confused)

—Touch—

I'm not gonna do all the characters of obey me but if you do want me to write someone then tell me :)

And also idk what kind you wanted, like funny, fluff or something... I decided to uhh...you can just see by the warning.

Note: When I mean it's not safe for work [nsfw], I mean my work, so it's not like extreme smut, but yeah....

Reader talking lines are bold

Characters: Beel, Lucifer, Diavolo a little extra: Asmodeus

Note from me: honestly, idk if I should put where it's reverse too, but I decided not to.

Warning!⚠️ : NSFW [I REMEMBERED TO PUT A WARNING]

"Oh, Hey [name]. Do you need something?"

"Let me touch your tiddies— pecs."

Beel

He doesn't know what you mean. But once you explain it to him, he'll be a bit flustered but just give him food, and he's good to go.

"Uhm....it feels weird.."

Beel looks down to see your hands roaming around his tiddies— chest. He tries to stay still while focusing on his hamburger.

*squeeze*

"Hngh—!"

Beel shuts his eyes as your eyes widen in shock.

"Ah...sorry"

He looks away as he stuffs his mouth with the burger and just lets you continue what you desire. You kept teasing him as you slightly squeeze it again. He whined but didn't complain, but at least you are feeding him right now.

—nsfw under this—

He lays there shirtless as you kiss him. You tried pulling out from the kiss, but he hungrily chased for more. When he didn't feel your body on his, he whined, tugging your sleeve to come back to him. He made a pouty face which you couldn't resist. Beel could feel your hands slithering around his body, but you kept avoiding the most area he wanted you to touch the most!

He grabbed your wrist as you looked at him, seeing his eyes filled with tears from all the teasing. He led you to his sensitive chest and whimpered when you finally touched it. You started kissing his chest down to his V line as he started to drool. You put 2 fingers in front of his face, and when he came back to his senses, he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. Licking off the whip cream you put on your fingers.

You started to play with his chest as he arched his back, dizzy from the feeling of it. Playing with one and sucking on the other. You started grinding on his crotch as he squirmed. You held his leg down firmly as you continued, not long he came. As you tried to get off, he hugged you, Not letting go. You were about to tell him to let go until you looked back and saw his eyes filled with hunger of lust. This is gonna be a long night.

Thank you for the meal. [Joke]

Lucifer

"No." Honestly, what did you expect? And if you ask why....just say you'll get a scolding. It would take WEEKS to finally convince him. He only lets you lay your head on his chest when you both sleep. Of course, in your mind, you were gonna take this slow. But life had another mind. You and Lucifer were stuck in a closet.

Why? Well, Luci [nickname] had to go back to the school for work at night and you were also there but were chased by demons because you may or may not have just uh....angered them by your bluntness. You saw Luci in the hallway and pulled him into a room. He was about to protest and scold you of why you were here.

Until you covered his mouth, and he heard voices. You quickly held Lucifer and went into the closet. It didn't have much room, but Lucifer was so glad that it was dark, so you couldn't see his state right now. He looked away, blushing as your knee was between his legs, giving him support to stand up since his legs were getting weak.

As I said, it was dark, so when you moved your body around to be more comfortable, you accidentally put your hands on something. [His chest]

"Ahh!—..."

"..."

Yeah, after that, he did not talk to you for the whole week unless necessary.

And if he does have to talk to you, he will look at anything beside you, and if he does look at you, his face will become red as his memories remind him this moment.

—Nsfw—

"It's me, Lucifer [name]. May I come in....?"

As you let him in, he led you to your bed and shoved you on it. He grinded on your thigh as he hid his face on your shoulder. He shivered when you outlined his back and slowly slithered your hands under his shirt to take it off. You switch positions as he sat there, impatiently waiting for you to do something.

He wrapped his arms around your waist [even if his fingers ain't touching] tears coming from his eyes, wanting you to help him with the 'problem' you made a week ago. You soothed him, saying praises of how good he was. He tried covering his mouth to not let the lewd sounds coming from him out.

You held both of his hands with one and kissed him, muffling his moans and whimpers. You tugged his chest as he trembled. Still grinding on your thigh, trying to reach his climax. You rubbed his crotch as he whined. You got his hair out of the way to see his face all ruined from the pleasure you brought him, making you want to ruin him and his pride more.

Diavolo

Oh, he loved how you didn't care about him being the ruler of demons and still talk to him like a normal being. He would always give you hugs if you allow it and sometimes make you suffocate between his arms and chest by accident.

You and him were in his office as you helped him finish his papers and some papers of Lucifer because he needs a break. You finally finished the papers. You looked over to Diavolo. Seeing him still working, you went over to him and got some of his papers. He tried to protest that you already did enough for him, but he tripped. As you tried to catch him, you fall with him because of the sudden impact and guess where your hand went?

If you guess his soft and squishy chest, then you're right. You also did an accidental experimental squeeze. Couldn't blame you since you were suffocating by you know what and could not see. He apologized, seeing him so stressed that you wanted to help him. Of course....in a different way.

—nsfw—

"A- ah....this..feels new"

You chuckled, him trying to cover his face and biting his lips to refrain from the unfamiliar sounds coming from him, drawing blood from his lips. His face was already red when you blunty said how you were gonna help him in another way instead of papers.

He never knew a human could make a ruler of all demons tremble with a single touch. You teased him by only lightly touching him, whispers sweet nothings in his ears, and ignoring his pleas. He didn't expect to be so desperate for your touch, but here he is. Begging for you.

You warned him to quiet down that Barbatos could come in any second. You used this chance to tease him that maybe he wants him to come in on you guys doing unholy things. He whined, snuggling onto your shoulder as you continued playing with his chest. You lowered down, making him unexpectedly arch his back when you started sucking on it.

This was definitely gonna be a fun night for you two.

A small extra:

Asmodeus would probably love and be a little shy when you say praises of his beauty and etc. [I told you it was a small extra]

[takusan-no-ai]

You’re not dying Billy, you’re just sick

PAIRING: Billy x Female Reader (Romantic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: Billy caught a virus, simulating the common cold, and (Y/N) has to take care of him.

“Where’s (Y/N)?! I need her help!” Billy screamed out loud in the Cunning Hares headquarters. Nekomata covered her ears in pain, while Anby snacked on her hamburger.

Billy’s voice box was out of control; the volume kept sliding between high and low, causing his voice to be grating for everyone’s ears. His body was hot to the touch, and his legs were wobbly.

“Are you…sick? You can get sick?” Nekomata asked. Billy scratched his neck, not really knowing the answer himself. Nekomata proceeded to call you over, and from then on, it was your responsibility to aid your sick robot boyfriend back to health.

Apparently he had a virus, one that made his body resemble the common cold. Of course, this one was still more extreme. You asked Billy if he could get the virus removed by going to get repaired, to which he replied very loudly, “ALL THE CHEAP ONES AREN’T GOOD ENOUGH!”

Yeah…you put Billy on mute after your ears finished bleeding. Since you can’t really fix him without risking something else going wrong, you asked Enzo if he could make time to run maintenance on Billy, offering to pay for it yourself. Unfortunately, Enzo was going to be busy for a few days, so you’d have to care for Billy a little longer.

But despite the circumstances, Billy was pretty exited to be taken cared of. He got to cuddle up in bed all day long with you, without you having to worry about catching his “sickness”. He ate soup and took his “medicine” (even though he can’t taste either, nor would it help him).

It was also a great bonding experience, with Billy watching reruns of Starlight Knight almost all day with you (he was considering watching Oh Sweetie~ but didn’t want to make you jealous over Monica).

Before you knew it two days had passed, Billy went into maintenance, and his virus was gone. The starlight knight takes you out on a gaming date at the arcade as a thanks.

- Fin

[vanillaxoxocore]

Fuck Away The Pain.

Pairing: Adam First man x f!reader

> ⸝⸝﹒WARNINGS ; Explicit Language, cursing, Porn with plot, Porn, rough sex, vaginal fingering, gaping, drunk sex, Adam while high, drinking, dry humping, jealous/aggressive sex, sexual tension, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, use of pet names, implied size kink, language, dirty talk, hair pulling, dom! Adam, overstimulation;

⊹ ⌣ ⌣ ୨୧ ⌣ ⌣ ⊹

໒ Ft. Adam HB ᶻz

౨ৎ ︵︵ I recently had a fight with my romantic interest. It began mildly, but as we both continued to add to it, it escalated into a furious exchange of shouts,

“for fuck’s sakes! Why do you always start shit like this when we’re together?”,

From the other room, you heard him yell at me. Even though i had planned to spend the rest of the evening at my boyfriend's apartment, i decided to pack up my things and go. His remarks were like a knife to the chest, and even though i weren't blinking, i could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks and my vision getting unfocused.

They simply would not go away. My breathing contracted and it hurt, a lump forming in my throat. I completed packing every item that belonged to me. I finished packing all my belongings. My boyfriend cussed me out something that wasn’t heard clear but just rang through my ears.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Opening the door, i turned my upper body and flipped him off before slamming the front door shut.

I felt anxious and uncomfortable on the awkward walk home. I could feel eyes on me even if nobody was out at this late hour. I started to wonder if I was really to blame for the disagreement, if I was the trigger for all of our arguments. I softly sighed and moved toward your house since I was ready for the whole night to be over.

౨ৎ ︵︵ After what seemed like an eternity, I started to up my home's stairs. Shaking, I reached into my purse to retrieve my house key, but my hand trembled and I couldn't fit it into the lock. I swore in exasperation— "isn’t this the fucking light of my night.”, as more tears streamed down my cheeks. I rattled the key entire for the first time, finally managing to steady my hands. Slamming the door open and sending the doorknob crashing into the wall.

I tend to get more frustrated even when I take off my shoes. I grumble and kick off my shoes, sending them flying into the wall. There was a soft thump, as I dropped my purse to the floor and started up the stairs.

I heard a faint noise a few steps up and thought— "Did I leave my TV on? — As I ascended the stairs further, I noticed a golden feather shining from the corner of the wall, which I knew right away. Was that Adam's? Dealing with him at this time was not the right time,

As I walked up to the flat floor, I saw Adam, man spread out on my couch, reclining back on the back cushions and loudly chewing on the hamburger in his hand. With his other arm propped up on the top of the couch, he seemed engrossed in something on the television.

As I made my way over to my coffee table, I noticed several large beverages and bags of fast food. Standing there for a few seconds, and as he noticed me, his eyes widened. He then stopped chewing for a while and began to slowly chew the food that was still in his mouth, swallowing it with a loud gulping sound. Before talking, he uses his robe to clean his mouth,

“Hey, babe! You look fucking rough. Did your boyfriend forget to put it in the right hole this time? — I squint my eyes and point to my front door while he snickers with closed eyes, i state: "Can you get the fuck out, Adam? I'm not in the mood for your nonsense right now — Adam instantly stops laughing at the remarks I made and gives me a round-eyed stare.

"Wowah there, babe," he says with a ear to ear smirk and round eyes — What's twitching your panties?”, He tries to remain composed and says, "You usually don't mind when I drop by like this. — He ends his statement with a brief smirk.

౨ৎ ︵︵ However, Adam was correct—I appear as though I was just mobbed by a bunch of people. My body was shivering, my hair had become tangled and striking out, and my eyes were a deep crimson. I also happened to be sweating. I say, "Adam, I can't deal with you right now," as my voice breaks and cracks and suddenly becomes higher pitched. My throat felt that lump tighten up again.

Adam leaned forward and seemed to get the notion before laughing a little, "Holy fuck! Did you and your boyfriend have another argument, bro? — he gets up from the couch, places his hamburger on the table, and picks up the large beverage that was next to it. He reclines back on the couch with a grin.

My head shook and my eyebrow twitched. "Ex-boyfriend now," I muttered, my voice like an imitating whisper. Adams was slurping his drink when I said this, and as he did, his eyelids loosened. Finishing my sentence, his eyes widened as he choked on the beverage. With a bewildered expression, he asks, "Wait what? Really? "You're not shitting me at all?" he asks, grinning, ear to ear.

Adam squinted one eye while keeping the other wide; the squinted eye's eyebrow furrowed as he cocked the other eyebrow high up. He stares at me with that shit eating expression on his face, i stood there not saying anything.

After becoming extremely anxious, I said, "Who does that fucker think he even is? He's simply looking for ways to put the blame on me, I promise! You know, I'm sure he's hitting on his new coworker buddy. Since she joined, he has been as new as paint! — I walk over to the couch, throwing my arms and complaining to Adam. I settle in while Adam crosses over to the opposite side of the couch.

I was irritated as Adam sat there as well as my leg was bouncing. I bury my face in my palms, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees. Adam sat there awkwardly as I started to cry quietly. "Hey babe — he said, but I interrupted him by taking him by the collar and tugging him in close to my face. His eyes widened and his brows raised, his mouth forming a sideways "v" shape as he stared at me and blinked a few times.

"You don't think I started the breakup, do you?" — I question him, staring him squarely in the eyes as tears stream down my cheeks at his feeble shrug.

౨ৎ ︵︵ As he leans back, I release his collar and lean forward, pressing my forehead on his chest. I sat there attempting to calm down. "You know," he hums, giving me an awkward back pat. "I can help you find a distraction," Adam chirps. Adam adds, "Keep your mind off him, ya know?" with a nonchalant expression. I look up at him, my chin resting on his chest, my eyes misty and bewildered. He placed his hand on my thigh and started massaging it.

I curse at him, "Adam, this isn't the time for fucking jokes," as he leans back a bit and whistles, "calm down, sweetie. I'm only trying to comfort you.”

I sigh and lie back on the couch, saying, "Adam, find me another way to comfort." Despite appearing disheartened, Adam persists and says, "Sure thing, babe." He hums and, as the bags of food and drink vanished into the portal, he made of a circle with his index finger. Before I can even sit up, Adam shuts the portal and summons out something that flashes brightly in my sight. I observed stacks of full booze bottles and a gold bong fashioned like a wing. I wondered to myself, "Was this his way to comfort people and himself?" but I kept my mouth shut.

Reaching ahead, he picks up a brand-new bottle of whisky and effortlessly ruptures it open. I was amazed—alcohol in the afterlife? Color me surprised. He reclines backwards as he effortlessly downs the bottle, and then, with a burp, he pulls away from it after a few seconds. He frowns and cocks an eyebrow at me, asking, "What? Grab one. It's okay, babe — he adds, gesturing to the several bottles of alcohol.

With wide eyes, I ask him, "Give me yours," referring to his bottle. He stares at me, then down at the bottle he is holding. He shrugs and hands it to me. I look at it for a moment, then put the bottle excessively close to my lips and take a sip before opening my mouth wider and letting more fluid pass down my throat. The bitter taste makes me jolt a little as the scorching sensation moves down my throat. Adam smirks and laughs at me, saying, "Big chub there, babe!"

He leans back against the couch headboard, he lifts one leg up on the couch cushion as he man spread in front of me. He rests one arm on the top of the couch, lifting up his other hand and summons something that looks like a cigarette, it was golden color. When he sets a flame at the end of it, he takes a long drag before blowing out at me with a smirk, it starts to reek of weed.

My breathing hitches as I breathe in the smoke with a cough, waving my hand in front of my face clearing out the smoke.

I say, "Don't do that, Adam," and he sits up. He holds my chin and raises my head. When I turned to face him, he took another big take and blew at my face once more, shooting golden smoke that clouded my vision.Adam leans in to give me a gentle kiss as the smoke starts to dissipate. My gaze drops to our lips, and my eyes enlarge. Half of his hand rested on my jaw as he moved it from my chin to my cheek. He presses his lips more connected to mine and opens his mouth a little, all the while maintaining eye contact. He touches my lips with the tip of his tongue, and I accept the kiss.

I close my eyes and bend closer to share the kiss, extending my mouth wider to let more of his tongue enter as he slips it in. I put my hand on his thighs and moaned softly as he pulled away from the kiss, our tongues touching with a string of saliva. He gives me a sly smile and brings the end of the joint to his lips once again, inhaling yet holding the smoke inside. He moves in closer for another, starting to kiss me passionately. Our head moving in synch together as our tongues danced against each other, a sluggish sound coming out of our mouths.

as he blows the mouth within my mouth, golden smoke escaping from the corner of my lips — let me suck on your tits.” he says bluntly as he pulls away from the kiss, I shake my head.

“Adam, this feels so wrong. I just ended my relationship not long a— he cuts me off by putting his index finger over my lips, “I’m asking to suck on your tits, not put my dick in you”, not yet at least. “Know the difference, babe.”

౨ৎ ︵︵ Within a few seconds, Adam was able to get me undressed within seconds. It happened so fast but I couldn’t complain. He was amazing at everything, talking me through it, his fingers, his words, his touch. It made me need for him more, becoming more needy for his attention and touch.

He quickly took my boobs in his rough, heated hands. He kissed me, gripped them, and then put his mouth down. He delicately sucked on my nipple after flicking his tongue over it. I hiss and sigh gently when I feel his tiny bite on my breast. I close my eyes and throw back my head, letting out gasps.

He stops and goes to get a bottle of whisky. He starts by putting some on my chest and then begins to suck the juice from my breasts, leaving light hickeys on sections of my skin.

I sulk, putting my arms around Adam's neck and letting him lick my breasts some more. As he repeatedly sucks and pours whisky over my breasts, I gasp and moan in exhaustion as I feel his cock hardening against me. I brought him closer by putting my leg around his hips. He alternated between sucking and squeezing my boobs while I rocked my hips into him.

He hums, "Turn around and sit on my lap again, babe," and I nod as I get up from his lap, turn to face him, and then settle back down. He sets the partially used whisky bottle down next to him. He spreads my legs wide open, holding them high in the air while he exposes my cunt by sliding his hands under my knees. Before he lets go of my legs, my eyes dilate.

"Keep your legs like that," he says to me as he leans in and places his chin on my shoulder. He then starts to caress my thighs before placing a palm over my cunt. His index finger pressing across my clit and grazing my entrance.

He plays with my clit, Adam suddenly digs his fingers into my aching pussy causing me to let out a high pitched groan, begging for his touch for so long, it felt so amazing feeling a part of him inside me. Adam loves how simple it is to make fun of me in that way. How completely masterful he is over my enjoyment with a few simple strokes.

Just by his hands, the most common part of the body, they have the ability to elicit the sweetest groans from me as if they were nothing at all.

"Go ahead, baby, and cum all over my fingers — I'd like to feel you give them a firm and nice squeeze”, He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of me as I rock my hips into them, letting out gasps and groans. Adam had a way of leaving me dumbfounded and unable to speak.

Weakly, I felt a press against my lips as I looked down at the alcohol bottle in front of my mouth. "Drink, sweetheart. — Adam grins and keeps pumping his fingers. My eyes drift back, and I grudgingly open my mouth. Before the liquid started to seep into my mouth, I felt the glass's tip brush against my lips.

౨ৎ ︵︵ As the alcohol kept pouring into my mouth, I started to swallow it. The liquid was filling my mouth to overflowing, and drops started to drip down my chin and cheeks. I kept gulping it down, feeling a scorching sensation in my throat until Adam took the bottle away from me. My vision blurs and my tongue falls out; a thin string of saliva that tastes and smells like alcohol sticks to both my tongue and the top of the bottle.

I let out a few more grunts as waves of intense pleasure raced through my body and veins. I came up on his fingers, arching my upper body and tossing my head back. Drool trickles down my cheek and chin, causing a loud sound to escape my lips.

Adam holds my chin, causing me to turn my head to the side and stare at him. I feel his tongue go down my throat as he plants a long kiss on me, and I try to wrap mine around his as much as I can. He's licking his lower lip and savouring the last of the alcohol. I lower my legs as I feel them starting to cramp, panting heavily I let out a one last heavy pant.

He leans in close to ask, "How are you feeling right now, babe?" with a shit-eating smirk that made me want to punch him. All I could manage to slur was "mng-hfff," with Adams' finger still lodged in my cunt. With my fluids sticking to his fingers as it slowly descends, he removes his fingers from my swollen, used cunt — close enough to an answer”, he laughs.

Adam grabs me by the waist and places my back against the couch's headboard while spreading my legs and standing between them. He raises his robe and he removes everything from underneath, keeping on his boxers. Revealing his enormous bulge that his boxers were concealing. Adam gets closer, his thighs pressing into the backs of my thighs.

His cock sprung out as he pulled down his underwear, causing my eyes to expand and startle out of my intoxication, “fuck he has a dick piercing too? — I thought to myself as I stare at him with doll eyes. He uses the tips of his fingers to grasp his cockhead.

Adam smirked at my reaction, leaning down and grabbing her hand, placing it on his massive cock. "feel how thick it is? — he asked , "i know it looks big, but i promise, it's gonna feel amazing. you're gonna love it.", I nod slowly as I was rubbing around the tip piercing.

He purrs, "Turn around for me, baby," and you fumble to do so, your knees trembling as your body starts to shake. You turned around and pressed your top head against the headboard of the couch, your back to him.

He chimed, his hands wildly parting your ass cheeks to inspect your puckered hole. "Damn, you're hot like that. — ya know, i bet he can't fuck you the way I'm gonna right now." Adam said, smearing some of his spit on your cunt and dabbing some of it onto his cock, He then rubbed it generously on his cockhead, “Adam— i barely whimper out, turning your head over my shoulder, — I’m having second thoughts about this.”

"you're already here. might as well do it, yeah? — he smirks as he leans toward, his chest pressing against my back.

"so," he asked , "are you gonna take my dick or not? — I look forward once more, pausing to relive each moment. My eyebrows furrowed at the thought of my ex-boyfriend as my memories returned to him. I nodded weakly to Adam and leaned my forehead against the couch's headboard.

His shit-eating grin made my stomach turn around, and sank my teeth into my bottom lip to keep myself from wriggling. "That's my fucking woman," he rasped. I truly were excited, but it had always been difficult to accept his size. "Damn, then the bastard would definitely be upset, if he found out his ex-girlfriend has changed her mind for me," he cocked up to my tight hole with a smug expression on his face. — You know you've improved your taste?”,

Slowly pushing the head of his cock against her entrance. "relax," he murmured , "just relax and let me in."

pushing it deeper into my tight, stretched hole. I let out a strained moan, his pelvis squashed against mine. As he stretched me even further, reaching places i didn't even know existed or could be felt in.

adam groaned as he felt the tightness around his cock, pushing deeper inside me, his member stretching my puckered cunt hole wider than i thought possible. My walls had to gradually become accustomed to the intrusion as his cock began to split them apart. He let out a grunt, enjoying the sensation of my pussy squeezing his length as each second went by.

He reached down, grabbing my hips and pulling me closer to him, thrusting his hips in a slow and steady rhythm, his hips rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm.

"oh, fuck yes," he groaned out — you're so fucking tight”, i whimpered, arching my back in pleasure and an ounce of pain. Steady rhythm while keeping my eyes closed to concentrate on the sound of his cock sloping into my wetness. Adam picked up the pace even faster, his hips slamming against me in a brutal rhythm. His member slapped against my sensitive spots, sending waves of pleasure-pain coursing through my body.

"motherfucker," he groaned , "so fucking tight."

I was flat on your stomach, and he was pressing two big hands into the little hump of my back. "Want me to fuck away the pain, ya?" he asks, his accent lightening at the end of his statement. He copied the movements for the other while my hips naturally rise. Adam simply roughed me up and grabbed the area where my ass met my hips.

“Yes!” I nod, practically choking on my moans. My eyes squeeze shut, feeling the pressure into my stomach building as my body began to heat up. Completely lost in pleasure, my vision becoming blurry.

he pushed deeper than ever before, his entire length filling me completely. His member pulsed violently, shooting hot semen into my womb, filling me up to the brim, my eyes widen as I let out a moan, “H-Oh my fucking god Adam! — My voice was higher than he’d ever heard it.

he pushed deeper than ever before, his entire length filling her completely. His member pulsed violently, shooting hot semen into her womb, filling her up to the brim. He held himself there, savoring the feeling of being completely inside her, until his orgasm subsided.

Adam, whose cock was still pulsing inside me, smiled proudly at my response. He started to slowly and steadily move his hips once more. Adam's thighs struck the back of my thighs till he started to thrust his hips more rapidly. A loud slapping sound reverberated throughout the room, relishing in the noises of my pleasure mingled with anguish.

Each thrust sent another wave of pleasure coursing through her body, and he loved watching her struggle to cope with his immense size. “If you weren’t with that fuckhead, I would’ve fucked you on the first day. You were always so loyal to him like a fucking dog. — he grunts out

As Adam kept hammering into me, the thrusts caused my body to jerk. Adam groaned as he kept pushing into me when he heard a ringtone coming from my pants pockets. I shriek, "Adam, my phone is ringing! — as I feel his hand push down on the back of my head and tangle his fingers in my hair.

"Adam, my phone is ringing — He mocks at what I say and then pushes his cock deep inside of me. I scream and grab the headboard of the couch. “No shit Sherlock. I can hear the fucking ringing — he replies to me with an aggressive tone of voice. I reply back at to him with a loud groan.

"Ignore it," he moans, pushing his hips more deeply. "This feels too fucking good to stop," he complains loudly. I replied with a loud cry, "It's probably my ex-boyfriend," as Adam slowed down, he cursed under his breathe, "How the hell are you sure it's him?"

I said, "Custom ringtone," as drool started to trickle out of my mouth. "Custom ringtone?" he asks sarcastically, "You're full of shit — You're such a fucking sapp," as the phone rang for a what seems like a minute, it stopped ringing as I heard a notification ding.

He moaned, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. "Take it all, bitch," he hissed, "take every single inch of me." He tilts his head back again and with his free hand, Adam reaches down to grab my phone from the pockets of my pants. Adam proceeded to unlock my phone's camera. When I hear the recording begin, I try to seize the phone from him, but he presses my head farther into the cushion.

Lost in pleasure and with his hips ramming me even more, I lowered my hand and let out dampened cries. All I could muster was high-pitched whimpers as the air was being knocked out.

I should and could have yelled as he thrust me till there was no more of his dick visible. He struck the same location roughly twice a second with no buildup, but I ran out of energy. Right then, he gave up speed in favour of power. I gave a senseless, sexual groan and came, pushing against him from within feeling him shoot his seed into my again.

His seed erupted out of me, it began to spill out down my thighs and trails down to his cock. With a moan, he thrusts his hips a couple more times to get the high out of his system. He pulls out of me as a thread of sperm connects his tip and spills across his pierced dick to my plump, red, used cunt just as the sound of the video ending. My body twitched and a yellow, shimmering seed was pouring out of my cunt.

> ,, ᎑᎑᎑ tags ; @k1prisunnx @bucketwater69

@censoredhysteria

[herarcadewasteland]

Trouble

A/N: This the small piece for the Wooyoung Bullet Point thing i made a little while back! I finally got it done and now you get it~

~~~~~~~~~~~

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader ft. San

Warnings: meandom!wooyoung, slapping (thigh and face), degradation, unprotected sex (wrap it up), creampie technically, protected sex (good job), big dick!woosan, restraints, slightly sub!sannie, exhibitionism.

The goal, for once, was not to piss off Wooyoung. Quite the opposite. All you wanted was a little bit of attention from him instead of having it all focused on the damn soccer game that Jongho had put on. It had started off slow that he had no idea it was even happening. Seeing you a little more slung over San than usual, your close relationship was nothing new to him because he was around the man so much himself. A few deliberate hand placements on the muscles of his arm when he made a dumb joke. It was harmless. At least to you. 

As soon as Wooyoung picked up on it, he was on his own plan. You wanted to be a brat and pretend to be more interested in his best friend than him? Your boyfriend? He could play at that game too. He ignored your attempts for his attention, your attitude growing bolder as you noticed Wooyoung not even sparing you a glance, a haughty smirk on his lips as he laughed with Jongho and Yeosang. Your actions towards San got more blatant, a blush covering the boys cheeks as you leaned against him, pressing your tits into his arm. Laughing louder at his jokes, swiping a drop of mayo from his lips when it spills out of the slider. Wooyoung was glancing your way more now, your eyes meeting a few times as his progressively held more danger. 

You knew you were in for it now but you were so far into your plan, you couldn't just back out of it and admit defeat. So you went in harder. Bumping your arm a little too hard into San to spill your drink all over his white shirt, your eyes going wide as you gasped and grabbed for napkins to dab at his shirt while you ran your hands across his broad chest. San muttered something under his breath and shook you off with a sheepish smile, telling you he could borrow a shirt from one of the boys as he scurried away. 

You huffed lightly, calling out another apology and turning to look at your boyfriend. His eyebrow was raised, hands folded neatly on his knee as he watched you. The look in his eye was past danger now. You were royally fucked. That didn’t stop you from continuing your antics the next week when you and your boyfriend invited San out to the mall for a day of shopping.

It had started slowly as it had the previous week. Small brushes of your hand against San’s ass, brushing your tits against him blatantly when Wooyoung was looking into a window display. Little did you know, Wooyoung knew what you were doing. He saw you in that same window display reflection brushing against his best friend. He saw it all and took note of it all, a smirk resting on his pretty lips while you flirted with San to get under his skin. 

He couldn’t say it wasn’t working, but it wasn’t working as well as you had hoped. You picked up on that fact slowly, building your tactics to make San flustered and your boyfriend mad. Your opportunity came in two forms. One of ketchup clinging desperately to San’s lower lip. You peeked a glance at Wooyoung, seeing him focused on his own hamburger, you took the chance.

“Ahh Sannie you made a mess!”, you cooed, seeing Wooyoung snap his head to you just as you reached across the table to swipe the offending condiment from his plush lip. 

Sitting back casually, you made eye contact with Wooyoung, his eyes holding a promise. You giggled at him and watched his eyes narrow, your finger quickly raising to your lips to suck the ketchup off of it. A throat clearing interrupted you, your eyes trailing over to the man across from you. Scanning the blush on Sans cheeks, you smiled happily, Wooyoung's hand finding a place on your thigh to squeeze it harshly. Your smile dropped enough for it to be casual, the hand on your thigh relaxing but staying in place as conversation picked up about one store or another. 

Your next opportunity came when you saw someone with the coolest jacket you had ever seen, your eyes lingering on them as they walked long enough for Wooyoung to take notice and follow your line of sight. He scoffed silently, tugging at your jacket to point at a window display with the shiniest dresses you had seen to date. With your attention successfully diverted, Wooyoungs’ hand on your lower back leads you into a separate store. Your thoughts were running wild with how to rile up your boyfriend even further when you realized, scanning through cute cardigans, that your tactics weren’t working properly. You would have to think harder.

You came up blank, your day at the mall going by peacefully until you tripped over your own feet while you were distracted by a window display. Your little trip up sent you face first into Sans solid chest, Wooyoung staring you down darkly as your hands pressed to Sans biceps to push yourself away. 

“I am so sorry Sannie! I don’t know how that happened!”, you sounded panicked, Wooyoungs’ eyes narrowing further.

San waved off your concerns easily, his hands patting your shoulders to console you as Wooyoung stared quietly. You turned to him shortly after, shaking your head, eyes holding a promise it wasn’t purposeful. Wooyoung wasn’t having it, his hand wrapping around yours as he pulls you closer to him.

“Let’s head home. We don’t need to be tripping over anything else.”, he chuckled, patting your head with his free hand.

You and San agreed, weaving through the people to get back out into the parking lot. Finding the car was slightly difficult, the distant beeping of the lock guiding the three of you in different directions until you found it, shouting for the boys as they found each other on the other side of the lot. You laughed at them while they jogged to the car, your face red as they huffed at you. Piling into the car, you started the drive back to the apartment, music blasting through the speakers as you all sang along, San’s dance movements small and precise in the small space. It sent you into a whole new round of laughter when he tried to do a kick jump in his seat. His head smacking the roof of the car with a thunk followed by the combined laughter of Wooyoung and yourself. The pout that graced Sans' pretty lips made you both coo, a blush coating his cheeks as he crossed his arms and stared out the window. 

The drive finished smoothly with some more karaoke after San was done his playful sulking, Wooyoung’s pokes to his side drawing him from it with giggles. Any giggles left you when you met your boyfriends eyes through the rear view mirror, the danger hiding in them setting your body on edge as you huffed a half laugh at something that San said, climbing out of the car with the two bags Wooyoung let you carry. You unlocked the front door quickly, Wooyoung urging you to go faster. Laughing, you opened the door and stepped aside, ushering the boys in. You closed the door behind you once they made it in in one piece. 

“Bags in the kitchen!”, you called after them, their footsteps fading slightly as they made their way to the kitchen.

Following them into the room, you landed a smack on Wooyoung’s ass as he bent over to look for a drink for San. His startled shout made you laugh with San, high-fiving him as you passed him to open a cupboard for a bag of chips to share. San stood awkwardly as you both moved around him, Wooyoung handing you a bowl for the chips after he pulled out the last case of beer he kept for when San was over at your place. 

“What did we decide on again?”, you turned to the boys once you were done emptying the bag into the bowl.

“Uhhh-“, San turned to Wooyoung who was opening three beers.

“Uh…”, he paused, tilting his head as he looked back at you and San, “I think it was The Avengers?”

You and San mirrored an “Ohhhh!” as you remembered the movie choice. Migrating to the living room, you observed the spots left on the couch until Wooyoung was tugging you down onto his lap. You scoffed lightly at his possessive action, San eyeing up the two of you slightly before he shrugged and focused on the screen. The movie went by without fault, snacks being passed around, cuddling into Wooyoung as he rested his chin on your shoulder… it was going so well… until you declared a bathroom break was needed and stood up from Wooyoung’s lap. You stretched with your arms above your head, a large yawn escaping you before you could stop, the boys focused on the exposed skin of your stomach.

One set of eyes leaving to watch the other’s unmoving gaze until he stood, Wooyoung placing a kiss on your head as he ushered you to the kitchen. San followed along blindly, clutching the empty bowl in his hands to drop it in the sink. Silence took over the room until you cleared your throat to interrupt your boyfriends one-sided staring contest with his best friend, slipping past them both when you were suddenly falling into San’s chest for the second time that day, your eyes widening as you pushed away from him quickly, his concern going unnoticed as you faced your boyfriend.

The smirk on his slightly chapped lips and the tsk that left them told you all you needed to know. You shook your head at him slightly and finished your journey to the washroom, doing your business quickly before nearly sprinting out of the door into a solid object. Staring up at Wooyoung, you shook your head again, hands on his chest as he watched you.

“I can’t believe you pushed me into him! It was an accident earlier! I promise-”

“Don’t think I don’t know your little games, pretty girl. I know exactly what you’re trying to get from me.”, he paused to whisper in your ear, sending chills down your spine, “All you had to do was ask.”

You don’t even get the chance to respond before he’s grasping your wrist and dragging you to your shared bedroom, a shout to San to come up in a few minutes following your stumbling steps. An affirmative, though hesitant, response from the boy hit your ears just as Wooyoung shoved you through the door. 

“Wooyo-”

“Wrong.”

“Woo-”

“Try again.”

“Wooyoung I swear to god-”

“Not bad but that was your last chance.”, his hands pushed between your shoulders til you tumbled onto the bed, his hands around your hips flipping you onto your back, “Address me properly or so help me…”

He leaned over you, eyes dark and piercing your soul as you whimpered under his gaze, “You’ll regret ever calling me anything other than Sir.”

You nodded quickly, small apologies tumbling from your lips as he disappeared into the closet, coming out with a locked box that was no longer locked. You realized at this moment you shouldn’t have even tried pleading your case. He wasn’t going to believe you anyways, and trying to bargain worsened your punishment. Seconds later, your hands cuffed to the headboard, Wooyoung back in the closet, San walked through the door. 

“What did you-”, he paused in the doorway, his eyes scanning your prone form and then the room for your boyfriend. 

Not finding him, the man looks at you in confusion, “Y/N? What-?”

You shushed him and beckoned him forwards, eyes desperate until Wooyoung appeared again with a happy look at seeing San. 

“Oh good! You made it just in time!”, the sound of fabric tearing made you wince as San gasped, turning away from your suddenly naked body, “Now now, Sannie. You were just looking at her skin so intently!”

He took measured steps to his best friend, grasping his chin and turning him in your direction as you squirmed against the sheets, “Now take. a. good. look.”

You whimpered at the heat of their gazes on your exposed skin, eyes begging with San until a stern look from Wooyoung had you intently focused on the blankets beneath you. 

“No, no. None of that. You don’t get to look at him. You did that enough today don’t you think? All over him just for my attention.”, he left San’s side to reach into his pocket, pulling out a handful of condoms that sealed your fate for the night, “That didn’t work like you wanted though, huh? Poor dumb little slut doesn’t get what she wants. How disappointing…”

He took a moment to set the condoms beside you mockingly, unbuckling his belt with precise motions that built tension in your core as you watched him, “For you.”

Everything happened in a blur after that. Wooyoungs’ belt being tied around your head, San being positioned in the desk chair at the end of the bed, Wooyoung stripping completely with a smirk on his face as he watches San squirm with his legs crossed. You whimpered around the belt as Wooyoung hovered above you, running his cock along your folds until you moaned with each brush of the head against your sensitive clit. You soon forgot about San with the pleasure clouding your mind, Wooyoung’s breathy groans in your ear ruining any thought of brattiness you had for the moment. Your mind cleared completely as he thrusted into you with one motion, each vein on his cock leaving you whining as you felt them drag against the wet walls of your cunt. Your moans only grew in volume as Wooyoung thrusted into you faster, deeper, reaching depths of you that you felt like only he could. His moans spurred you on to meet his thrusts until his hands slammed down on your hips to keep you still with a low grunt in your ear.

“I would suggest not moving, baby.”

You whined but nodded, drool dripping from around his belt between your teeth, soaking the material and leaving a trail on your skin that Wooyoung gathered with his fingers to bring down to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in fast circles. Your pussy clenching around him sending him to new heights with his best friend watching. You whined even louder, moans cutting off your breaths until you pleaded with Wooyoung through the belt, his raised eyebrow shooting a spark of arousal straight to your clit. The moan you let slip at that point was pornographic, San’s small grunts just reaching your ears as you tugged on the restraints keeping you from touching your boyfriend in the way you wanted. 

“What’s that, pet? You wanna say something?”

You nodded quickly, moving your hips slightly to get him to move faster as he tugged the belt from between your lips.

“Please!”, you panted for breath now that you could take proper ones, “Sannie! Untie-”

The sound registered before the feeling, the stinging of your cheek coinciding with the sound that echoed through the room. 

“What did you just say?”, Wooyoung stopped his thrusts abruptly, “Did my cocksleeve just call out for another man as I was fucking it? Nooo no, I must be mistaken.”

You inhaled sharply as you realized what you said, your lips parting as you started to stutter over your apology. Another slap cut you off, your head facing the wall with the force of it as you clenched around him. 

“I would suggest you repeat yourself right now, love. I don’t want to have to ask twice.”

“I-...I’m-... Sannie-”, you cut yourself off when Wooyoung raised his eyebrow, “I mean… I wasn’t-”

“Spit. It. Out.”, he accentuated each word with a thrust that had you grasping at the restraints around your wrists.

“Sannie! Untie me!”, you gasped out.

The silence in the room was suffocating as Wooyoung pulled out of you quickly, not giving you time to savor the sensations of him in your for the last moments.You whimpered at the emptiness in your core, clenching around nothing as you watched Wooyoung stand, his expression blank. 

“San. Come here.”

San moved quickly, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to follow his best friend's orders. 

“Do you think my little slut deserves to be untied? Just so she can touch me?”, Wooyoung ran his hand along San’s broad chest as he stuttered for an answer, “She called for you, didn’t you hear? She wants your help.”

He pushes him towards the bed, “So help her.”

You share a slightly confused glance with San, watching Wooyoung stare the two of you down until he snapped his finger, making you jump slightly.

“Move faster. She clearly wants your help, Sannie~”

San nodded slowly and reached up to undo your restraints until Wooyoung's hands covered his, “No. Not like that.”

You and San shared properly confused glances now, eyes darting between each other and your boyfriend as he laughed mockingly, “Two dumb little pets. How fun!”

Wooyoung nearly dragged San onto the bed, ripping his clothes as he had yours, making you both gasp as he pushed him down onto you. The only indication of something happening was the slight brush of Wooyoung’s hand across your clit after the crinkling of the condom wrapper ceased. You and San whined in unison as suddenly he was pushing into you, your boyfriend's pretty hand on his hip telling you San wasn’t even in control of the situation. 

“You do know how to fuck, right?”, Wooyoung laughed as San frowned at the jab, his hips suddenly moving into yours much faster and with much more force behind them, “There we go. I knew you could fuck her right~”

You moaned at each thrust, hands grasping at air as Wooyoung laughed at you, landing a slap on your thigh as San fucked you with everything in him. His cock stretched you more than Wooyoungs’ did but you didn’t dare say anything to compliment the man in that moment, instead moaning loudly as you held eye contact with your lover. The smirk on his face and the hand stroking over his cock as he watched you be pounded into the mattress made you whimper, eyes rolling back as you felt San twitch inside you just enough to brush over that special spot. 

“Aweeee.”, Wooyoung cooed at your reaction, “Keep doing that Sannie. She loves it, look at her! Can barely even keep her whore mouth shut.”

“Maybe you should fill it then.”, San spoke up for the first time, shocking both of you until you nodded happily and opened your mouth for Wooyoung to slide into, moans escaping you still. 

“Good boy, Sannie. I knew you would have some great ideas somewhere in there!”, Wooyoung crawled up to kneel by your open mouth, giving you a small moment to savor his taste until he was thrusting into your mouth like he was fucking your pussy. 

San moaned out a small thank you that made Wooyoung laugh until he saw your expression change, San’s moans turning to a higher pitch as you tightened around him with your impending orgasm. 

“Is the poor baby gonna cum around my friends cock? Hm?”, he pulled out from your mouth, leaving your tongue chasing it pathetically as he laughed and leaned down to brush some hair behind your ear, “You don’t get to cum.”

San stopped at those words, pulling his own cock from you with a strangled moan. You whined at the loss of attention, Wooyoung’s look turning dark once more as he sat beside San between your spread legs. 

“You really thought you were going to cum after those little stunts you pulled today? Think again.”, he turned to San, pulling him into a kiss as he pulled the condom from his twitching cock.

You watched silently with pleading eyes as Wooyoung wrapped his hands around himself and San, tugging on their cocks quickly with just enough pressure that made San whine. His eyes met yours, both of you looking fucked out, and he tumbled over the edge, his cum landing in thick ropes over your abused pussy and Wooyoungs’ hand. Your boyfriend moaned at the sight, pushing his cock back into you just as he came, the warmth spreading through your body as you closed your eyes. 

“Gooood fucking girl. Taking my cum like a champ.”, you huffed out a playful breath at his choice of words, your pussy aching for release you knew would never come. 

The feeling of Wooyoung’s lips brushing over your ear startled you, your eyes snapping open to make eye contact with San as the boy flushed prettily at your attention, “Maybe next time, throw yourself on Hongjoong.”

[iluvmattsbeard]

this isn’t me (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

(BIG TRIGGER WARNING! ⚠️)

warnings: slight gore/strong language/mentions blood/death/throw up

preview: Matt has recently started changing. the way he looks, the way he acts, and his demeanor in general. you slowly notice how distant he’s become. you were worried, a long with his brothers, so you all see what he's been up to. the scene left you, Chris, and Nick in shock.

a/n: this type of writing is different for me so i hope it lives up to your guys liking! likes and reblogs are appreciated!

it was a foggy morning in Boston. you were waiting at a post lamp for your best friend, Matt. you both walked to school together every morning ever since he asked to join you a few years back. now, you guys were attached to the hip. you had your hands in your pocket keeping them warm. you let out a breath which caused air to be visible in front of your face. that's how cold it was. you were starting to wonder what took Matt so long.

eventually you gave up waiting and texted him saying you'll just meet him there. you then headed over to the dreadful place. once you got to your first class. you noticed Chris and Nick were at their seats but, Matt was no where to be seen. you sat at your seat as you looked at Nick, "where is he?" you asked putting your back pack down. all he did was give you a confused face, "Matt? I thought he was with you?" he asks. you ended up giving him the same confused look. "what do you mean?" "I saw him head out before us. I assumed he was already going to meet up with you." Chris adds on. you turn your head towards him, "well I never saw him." you let out still confused.

you picked up your phone checking to see if Matt responded to your text. nothing. the text wasn't even seen.

Y/N

Matt what are you up to? Chris and Nick said they saw you head out to meet me. where are you?

"maybe he's just ditching?" Chris says. "you know that's not like-" your voice trails off when you see Matt walk into class. "you’re late Matthew." you hear the teacher say. "do you have a tardy slip?" all Matt does is shake his head and walk over to his seat right next to you. "why are you late?" you whisper to him. "It was nice out. I took the long way." he says avoiding eye contact. that's unlike him. plus, you didn't even know there was a long way.

the whole day at school, Matt was quiet. which he usually is but today? not a single word at all. even at lunch, he just sat there not even touching his food. "Matt eat your lunch." Nick says. "not hungry." Matt responds with a tone that was different. you, Nick, and Chris just look at each other. "okay then?" Nick responds quietly. "more for me." Chris says taking the hamburger off Matt's tray before eating it. you and Nick just let out a small laugh.

at the end of the day, you followed behind Matt as you spoke, "what happened?" all Matt did was stay quiet as he walks. "Matt are you listening?" you add on. he still just continues walking. you step in front of him as you look at his face. it seemed different. his skin looked more pale, his eyes were tired, and they were dark. "what's the matter with you?" he just stares into your eyes with a blank face. nothing came out of his mouth except for one word, "move." walking past you. you just stood there in shock. what is his problem?

later at home, you receive a text.

Matt

i'm sorry for acting the way I did earlier. it's complicated.

you sigh texting back.

Y/N

can you talk to me about it?

Matt

not yet.

it's too much.

your face turns into confusion before texting back. what does that even mean?

Y/N

can you just tell me?

you text but soon after you were left on read.

meanwhile at the triplets house, Matt was sitting at the kitchen table quietly. "Matt you haven't eaten all day. you need to eat something." Marylou says sliding the plate in front of him. Nick and Chris look at him as Matt just stays still with the same blank face from earlier. "Mom it's not going to work. he's been quiet all day. he didn't even meet with Y/n this morning. he was late to class." Nick says. "what?" Marylou says looking back at Matt. "what is up with you sweetheart?" she says with a worried look. Matt just gets up and walks out the house. "Matt!" Marylou shouts but it was already too late.

Nick

something is wrong with Matt. it's starting to worry us. has he told you anything yet?

you look at the text with a saddened expression before texting back.

Y/N

he texted me earlier apologizing but that was all. I'm currently left on read.

Nick

well he just walked out the house not too long ago.

you and Nick text all night, discussing what could possibly be wrong with Matt before heading to bed.

later that night, Matt arrives home, rushing to his bathroom. he was breathing heavily as he panicked washing his hands. "Matt?" Nick knocks on the door. Matt stopped in his place as he slowly looks up at himself in the mirror with his dark eyes. he had blood smeared across his mouth as he snaps back to reality. "what the fuck." Matt whispers to himself before hurrying to wash his face. "Matt! can we talk!" Nick yells from the other side of the door. "hold on!" Matt responds cleaning off the remaining blood that was smeared on the sink before opening the door. "where were you all night? all of us, including Y/n, are worried." Nick says, trying to read his face. "I was just trying to clear my head." Matt says. "well can you let us know what's wrong? you're acting so strange." Nick says with a somber look. he really wanted to figure out what was eating up his brother. if only he knew the truth. it would freak him out. so Matt stayed quiet, walking past him, straight to his room closing the door and locking it.

Nick just lets out a sigh as he does the same. The next day, Matt didn't show up to school at all. "he's not answering his phone." Chris says putting his phone done on the lunch table.

Matt's POV

it's been a few days since the unthinkable happened to me. it was late one night when I rushed to the bathroom throwing up an unusual amount into the toilet. I felt like I was releasing my whole insides. by the time I was done, I woke up confused on the bathroom floor. I felt something different within me. I couldn't comprehend all of of this. I started to ignore everyone. not because I wanted to, but because I needed to protect them from what i've been doing. who knows what could potentially happen next. I don't need the people I love to be in between, especially Y/n. it's been so hard staying away from her, but I have to.

i let out a breath as I drop the shovel onto the ground. I can't believe this is happening to me. I thought this type of shit only happened in movies or TV shows. i take off my gloves as I throw them into a trash can near by. I throw my hood over my head as I head home skipping school. I have to wash myself up.

End of Matt's POV

Y/N

please Matt. whatever you’re going through, I don't want you to feel like you're alone. I miss you. text me when you have the chance.

you sat anxiously waiting for a response. "he's not going to respond." you say biting your lip softly. "then lets find out what's wrong with him." Nick says looking at both you and Chris. "how?" You respond. "we follow him. he's been heading out with no explanation. let's see what he's been up to." Nick says. you and Chris look at each other and nod. "let's do it." You reply.

You, Chris, and Nick create a group chat where you've been coming up with plans to spy on Matt. you guys wanted to time it perfectly. a plan was made for the next few days. You will sleep over at their house, in Nick's room, without Matt finding out. Chris will slip an air tag into Matt's jacket so you guys can keep track of where he goes.

Nick

alright. we have a plan. come over Friday night.

Y/N

got it. see you guys then.

Chris

see you.

when Friday hits, you pack your clothes into a small backpack as you sigh. "I really hope this works." you whisper to yourself before throwing it on your shoulder. you head down the stairs and slide on your shoes as you head out the door. eventually, you arrive at their house. walking to the back door so Matt doesn't see you.

Y/N

outside.

you text as you wait for someone to let you in. Chris opens the door and greets you. "Matt is in the bathroom so we have to be quiet heading upstairs." he says whispering. you nod and head upstairs quietly. Chris and You both head into Nick's room, shutting the door locking it. "Chris just placed the air tag in Matt's jacket. so all we have to do now is wait till he leaves." Nick says sitting down on his bed. you nod and you three talk, killing time until it hits 10 p.m. "does he usually head out later?" you say with a yawn. "it'll be anytime now." Nick responds looking at the time. he was right. you three hear a door open, indicating Matt getting out of his room. you hear slight foot steps going down the stairs, hearing the front door open and shut.

Chris pulls out his phone as he watches the little dot on his screen move. You get up and throw on a hoodie as you watch the little dot as well. after a bit, the dot stops moving. Nick's eyes widen, "that can't be right..." Chris whispers. "Abandoned house on Imperial Street." you whisper. you three look at each other and don't hesitate getting up before heading out the door.

"why would he be here?" you ask whispering. "I don't know." Nick responds as you three walk up to the worn down house. you look at the two of them and gulp, "what if we see something we shouldn't?" you ask. "we have no choice. we need to know what he's been hiding." Nick adds on. you look at the broken door and let out a breath. "come on." Chris says as you and Nick follow behind quietly. your heart was racing. what could he be possibly doing? as soon as you head inside, you couldn't help but shudder. it was cold and you knew something wasn't right. Chris looks at his phone as he follows where the dot is.

which it lead you three to a horrifying sight in the broke down kitchen. before you let out a sound, Chris covers your mouth and pulls you to the side. Nick follows as he hits his back against the wall with his face in shock. "w-what was that?" Nick whispers. your heart was now pounding out of your chest as you replay what you saw in your head. Matt was leaned over a limp body that was clearly torn open. you could hear the noises come from his mouth around the corner. was he actually indulging someone’s insides right now? you thought to yourself as you felt your stomach twist in a knot. “h-how is that even possible?” you whisper shakily. “what do we do?” Nick says clutching his chest, breathing unsteadily. “what could we even do Nick? this is fucking terrifying.” Chris responds. “no shit! but that’s our brother! what do we do?” Nick responds quietly freaking out.

"we need to get out of here." Chris whispers. Nick agrees as he walks with Chris towards the door. Chris looks at you indicating for you to follow but you just stay frozen. "come on" he mouths. but the two brothers then rush out when a noise from the air tag plays in Matt's jacket.

you peek your head around the corner as you watch Matt stop what he's doing to reach into his pocket, pulling out the small device. he shoots his head up as he looks around. "fuck." he mutters out. he stands up and looks at the body on the ground. you let out a small gasp as you get a clearer view of the person. Matt then locks eyes with you as he speaks, "who's there?" you step out slowly as you gulp, standing there in shock. you see his eyes soften as he stares at you. "Y-Y/n... what are you doing here?" he stutters out. all you do is look down at the body again shaking. "Y/n please listen to me." he says stepping closer to you but he stops when he sees you back away terrified. you clutch onto your stomach as tears roll down your eyes, "w-what is this?" you say as your breath hitches. "It's not what it looks like-" he says but you interrupt him. "t-to me it looks as clear as day. y-you were just fucking eating some innocent person's insides."

all he does is shake his head before responding, "y/n, you know I would never do something like this." "then what is this?!" you shout in fear. "I-i don't know!" Matt shouts back. "I don't know what made me like this. it's scaring me Y/n. I kept myself distant because I know how this looks. it's unbelievable." he continues. "I know your scared. but this isn't me Y/n. you know this." he says but suddenly hold his head in pain. "fuck!" he yells out. "Y/n please..." he weakly mutters. your heart aches at his voice. he was right. you knew he would never do this. you could tell he didn't want any of this to happen.

"I need help y/n." he says with a sadden expression. you look around on the floor, stepping into a puddle of blood. "please help me." he whispers desperately. you look up at him and gulp. "this is bad…" you whisper. “i know! but i can’t function without doing this. i can’t eat real food.” he says wiping his mouth. your eyes are still on the deceased person. still trying to wrap your head around it. “who even is this Matt?” you say before gulping. “i-i don’t know. that’s the thing. i don’t even realize i’m doing all this until last minute. so i don’t know any of the people.” he replies. “please y/n just help me.” he adds on. you look at him as you give him a blank stare. “tell me what to do…” you whisper.

you couldn’t just let him deal with all of this alone. you needed to find out more. he nods and next thing you know, you were helping him drag a big trash bag into the back yard of the abandoned house.

Chris

Y/n?! are you okay?!

"fuck Nick she's not responding!" Chris says freaking out. "Chris calm down! Matt would never hurt her." Nick says reassuring his shaking brother. “that was not Matt!” Chris exclaims. “that was some type of creature. that wasn’t our brother.” Nick shakes his head before responding, “no matter what he turned to, he’s still our brother!” Chris looks at him as he stops pacing around, “if someone catches him, people might mistake us for him.” Chris says. Nick’s face drops as he thinks about it. “you’re right…” he replies.

the bag hits the dirt with a thud. you stand there quietly as you watch Matt handle this situation. you flinch when you hear the shovel hit the ground. "don't tell anyone Y/n." Matt says looking at you with a look you remembered. you just stand there still in shock with a blank expression. "come on lets go home." Matt says taking your hand softly as he walks the both of you out. when you look down at your shoes, you notice how dirty they were from helping and the fresh red stains. you look up straight ahead as you ask a question in your mind, "what did i just get myself into?"

when you arrive at his house, Chris and Nick right away jump at the sight. you and Matt were hand in hand with your clothes dirty and bloodied. you gulp as you let go of Matt’s hand. “i need a shower.” you whisper out, walking past the two boys and straight to the bathroom. Chris and Nick’s eyes stare at Matt nervously. “so you saw?” Matt says not breaking eye contact. all the boys could do was stare at him and nod hesitantly. Matt was about to speak but, he decided to just head straight to his room, leaving the brothers with unanswered questions.

a/n: this is different from my usual stuff. let me know if you guys enjoyed reading!