#anon u actually made me smile. . .
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wistrea-a · 6 months ago
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oh kira the woman you are
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omg stop you're going to make her blush (keep going, she loves the attention)
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osaemu · 1 year ago
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what if we kissed under the stars and walked into traffic together? - dazai (trust)
UGH THATS SO ROMANTICCCC 😮‍💨😮‍💨
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cannibalismyuri · 2 years ago
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(song added by me)
#i am so Unwell rn what the fuck.#/pos So Fucking /pos#so the art ask was from u as well....elijah ur so secretive and suave this is Too Much for a girl to handle#willelmax in the arcade and byler valentine cards ur too sweet to me i actually cant Take This :')#you're right our friendship IS on another level esp now because i've never felt So Connected to someone its insane#im a little surprised but it makes sense that its you yk#like you're so naturally sweet and kind and amazing at ur core so OFC it was u#and good job i can never listen to (you) on my arm without thinking of you /pos /pos /pos /pos#this is at the TOP of on the list of the pretty little things i've been given#ik i sound like a broken record but its so insane how much i love you. i didnt know i could bond w someone over anon sm and i JUST. idk#its something abt me never getting something like this and idk never ever feeling so cared for....#you deserve all the pretty things and someone who never lies to you and someone who wants to be on your arm so bad that they write a song#about it and someone who cares about you so deeply that they think about you at night and smile so big that it hurts and someone who loves#you so much that it hurts physically and someone who thinks of you now when he listens to songs sometimes and someone who cares#about you so intensely that when he's reading messages from you she feels comforted and your words are smtg that's on repeat in her head no#and someone who wants to mail you flowers so bad because you made him feel so amazing and someone who recognises how much you deserve#and wants to give it all to you so bad and someone who loves you as much as you deserve.#and i wanna do all that and be that person so bad and i'm gonna send you a daily ask now because you mean so much to me#and you deserve someone who makes pretty things for you too and someone who tries so hard to show it#and im GONNA. im gonna try So Hard.#you'll probably get so sick of me but believe me i'm gonna make you feel as special and amazing as you made me feel. believe me.#anyway yeah. i care about you a totally normal amount#if you read all of this just know i love you so much it hurts sometimes 💗💗#my feelings towards this are : 💖💝💓💞💘💕💗⚡☀️✨⭐💫🌟#elijah my heart my love letter my special and awesome best friend my heart anon elijah#<- better tag for u because you deserve it so fucking much#elijah <33#<- ur old tag too so u can look thru my blog and see this whenever u want#heart anon#<- for me. so i can look at this for hours and find it easily so that i could complete loving elijah hours daily
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chrisbangs · 2 years ago
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i don't think you realize how cute and endearing you are ☹️ i'd give you the world if you asked actually
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xiaoluclair · 2 years ago
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saw your max v. x taylor swift albums edit while scrolling through my tags and i’m blown away once again my god what an edit!! love reputation esp, all the different fonts and stuff. soo good
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seesawing between these two moods nonsieee. reputation made me want to shove my head into a particularly solid surface. i wrote ‘max verstappen mv1 max verstrappon ver verstappen maks max ’ in three trillion iterations in three trillion fonts and now i have that template in my docs for when i have to exchange a max verstappen replica of taylor swift’s reputation album for the not–destruction of the entire world and i say lol fuck no make your own bitch 😤 make ur own 🙄. anyway TY FOR MAKING MY DAY BRIGHTER (⌒▽⌒)☆♡💖🌼
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obsesssedblerd · 5 months ago
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“Oh, Nanaminnnn!” 
At the familiar, cheery voice, Kento looks up to see no one other than Satoru Gojo, leaning against the doorframe of his office with his usual grin. “Saw with my Six Eyes that you came to fill out those reports here instead of doing it from home. Been so long since you showed your face here and—” He cuts himself off with an excited gasp, then walks closer as his smile grows wider. “You brought my little mochi!”
In Kento’s left arm, his daughter—who had woken up from her nap about ten minutes ago—coos excitedly when Satoru enters her vision, reaching her hands towards him. “Well, hello there, sweetheart! I was wondering when I’d see you again!” He slides his hands under her plush arms, then picks her up, skillfully—and safely, Kento notes—holding her in his arms. Tiny hands brush against Satoru’s blindfold, and he lifts it so his niece can see his blue eyes. They immediately soften when the baby girl laughs when he gently tickles her tummy. 
It’s so cute that Kento can’t stop the corner of his mouth from lifting. 
“Wait—Did I hear that right?! Nanamin’s here?!” 
“Itadori, wait for us!” 
“Kugisaki, you dropped your bag—Oh, come on, guys, slow down!” 
Rapid footsteps approach, then the three first years appear at the door, gasping in unison. 
“Oh, my gosh!” Yuuji, the pink-haired teenager shouts as he points at the baby in Satoru’s arms. “Nanamin, when did you have a baby?!” 
Nobara’s question comes a split-second after Yuuji’s is finished. “Is that why [Y/L/N]-sensei quit a while ago?!” 
Megumi walks to stand beside Satoru to analyze the little bundle in his teacher’s arms. “She’s… adorable.” He mumbles, gently smiling when she wraps her hand around his finger. “Very adorable. She has [Y/L/N]-sensei’s laugh.”
“Isn’t she just so precious?” Satoru asks, proudly showing her off to the first years. “So sweet and friendly, just like her Uncle Gojo.” 
“Hopefully she won’t be as reckless as you,” Kento says as he holds his hands out, and Satoru returns his daughter to him. “[Y/N] and I already believe that she’ll be the exact opposite of me.” 
Yuuji sits beside Kento to get a closer look at her. “She’s so cute. How old is she, Nanamin?” 
“Four months as of yesterday.” 
Nobara crosses her arms and pouts. “How come only he knew?” She asks, gesturing to Satoru. 
“Well, when I had to go away on a long mission, she was only a month old,” Kento explains. “He kept an eye on her and [Y/N] for me; made sure that they were both safe. I’m very grateful. We had plans to tell you about our daughter soon.” 
“Where is she now?” Megumi asks. 
“At home. I wanted her to have the morning and most of the afternoon to herself. I’ll be heading back shortly.” 
Satoru and the students share similar looks with each other, and Kento knows what they want to ask. He pulls out his phone and dials your number. “Hi, baby,” you greet when the line connects, “how’s our girl?” 
“Hi, love. She’s amazing, as always,” he says as he looks down, playfully poking the little one’s nose. “I’m with Gojo and our students. They want to know if it’s alright to come and see you.” 
“We’ll cook dinner if you’re too tired!” Nobara chimes in hopefully.
“Actually, better yet, I can just order something for everyone,” Satoru suggests. 
“And we’ll clean up,” Yuuji and Megumi say at the same time. 
You laugh, then answer Kento, “That’s more than alright. Bring them here.” 
“Thought you’d say that. See you in a bit.” 
“Yes!” Yuuji cheers. “Alright, I’m gonna ride with Nanamin so I can sit next to the baby!” 
Nobara glares at him. “Not if I get to the car first!!” 
When they sprint out the door, Megumi groans before rushing after them. “Didn’t I just tell you guys to slow down? We’re going to the same place!” 
Satoru laughs, then waits for Kento to finish up so they can walk out together. 
there was an ask in my inbox requesting a cute drabble for dad! nanami ft. gojo (as a trusted friend of his) and the first years, but it disappeared. hope u like it, anon <3 
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headkiss · 2 months ago
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it’s christmas (this is gonna be a nightmare)
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve puts a little too much pressure on himself to make this holiday a magical one. or: 4 times steve messes up your first christmas together, +1 time it's perfect.
word count: 7.4k
content: established relationship, one injury (no blood!), some kisses, a lot of steve's thoughts, and a love confession <3 fluff all around!!!
a/n: a full length fic!! it's a christmas miracle!! thank you to the anon who sent the ask that inspired this fic and to all of u for being here. i love u, happy holidays <3
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Steve Harrington doesn’t know too much about what exactly a perfect Christmas looks like. He has his parents to thank for that.
What he does know is that this year has to be just that: perfect. Because this year he has you.
Though you went to high school together, you and Steve properly met in the summer. Right at the beginning of it, where the evenings still have a chill of wind but the sun cuts through it with welcomed warmth. Robin convinced him to take her to the flower shop just outside of town, and you’d been behind the counter to greet them.
Robin recognized you, and she chatted your ear off while you helped her pick a bouquet with the sweetest smile Steve had ever seen and he felt like an absolute moron for never having noticed you before at school. But he noticed you then.
He’d forced Robin to wait for him in the car while he stayed back, bought you your own bouquet of flowers from the store as if you weren’t the one who’d made them, and asked you on a date. Steve fumbled the whole way through, pricking himself with a rose thorn and cussing mid-sentence, but you still said yes.
You’ve been together ever since, and Steve feels incredibly lucky for it. Lucky for how kind you are, how well you fit in with his friends, how much the kids (Max, especially, though he won’t call her out on it) like you. Lucky for being allowed to grab your hand, to kiss you whenever he wants.
And, on the nights you stay over that grow more frequent with each month, lucky to have you fill the space in the Harrington home that usually feels so cold and empty.
So, maybe the holidays make him extra sentimental, maybe he cares a little too much about making sure it’s the best damn Christmas you could have. Maybe, for once, he’s actually looking forward to it all.
Robin startles him into the present — leaning on the counter at Family Video — with a stiff poke to the cheek. “Dude, I can literally tell you’re thinking about her by the look on your face. It’s kinda gross.”
He scoffs at her, even though he probably was making a face. “Sounds like jealousy to me, Buckley.”
“Shut up, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know each other! I deserve compensation.”
Steve hangs his head dramatically. Robin is never letting that go. Ever.
“My friendship isn’t enough for you?” Steve says, placing a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”
“You annoy me,” she says, flicking his arm.
“Ow- whatever. You’ll be free of me in like five minutes.”
Steve checks his watch just to be sure. Robin’s closing by herself today, and while Steve would normally just stay and bother her anyways, he’s got plans that involve you and takeout and napping together on his couch.
As if the thought conjures it, you walk through the door, the bell jingling cheerily above your head, Steve’s car keys dangling from your fingertips. (Yes, he lets you drive the BMW.)
“Thank God,” Robin says when she sees it’s you. “Please get rid of him, he’s getting on my nerves.”
You smile and walk towards Steve, who immediately tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you in close, stamping a kiss to the side of your head.
You turn your head to the side and look at him, “What did you do?”
Steve gasps, “Me? Honey, you’re supposed to be on my side.”
You send him a wink, and Steve grins. He fucking loves having you with him, being able to speak without speaking. Your hand grabbing his and squeezing says I missed you, his squeezing back says me too.
“Okay, please remove your public displays of affection from the store and leave me alone with the overplayed Christmas song radio station, thank you.” Robin announces.
“Don’t miss me too much, Robs. I know it’ll be tough,” Steve says, guiding you forward.
“Good to see you, Robin!” you wave on your way out.
“You too!” And just before the door closes behind you, Robin’s voice rings out; “You’re my favourite half of the relationship!”
Your smile widens. Steve is the best thing that’s happened to you, and his friends becoming yours is one of the greatest bonuses you could ask for. It’s like his life made room for you as simply as the ocean’s tide pulls in and out. Gentle and certain.
He catches the keys when you toss them to him, and Steve’s mood just seems to lift and lift on the drive back to his place with you in the passenger seat, Christmas lights lining the streets glowing on your cheeks.
Yeah, he thinks, this Christmas is going to be perfect.
-
1.
That weekend Steve calls you and tells you to be ready by noon and to dress warmly. He doesn’t tell you much else besides his usual ‘see you soon, honey’ or ‘miss you’ murmured sweetly through the phone.
As instructed, you’re dressed in a pair of jeans and one of your favourite knitted sweaters, your brown leather jacket overtop and socked feet stuffed into your Doc Martens. Though you feel plenty warm, Steve will probably fuss over you and hold you close for body heat anyways. And, well, you’d never be opposed to that.
Steve’s BMW rolls into your driveway exactly one minute past twelve, and by the time you walk outside to meet him, he’s already standing on the passenger side of the car waiting to open the door for you.
“Always a gentleman,” you say, kissing him quickly on the cheek.
You slide into the seat that’s become yours for the most part, and Steve ducks down to kiss you properly on the mouth before pulling back, “Mm maybe not always.”
He closes your door and you laugh lightly, your face a little warm even though he’s been your boyfriend for months now. You don’t think you’ll ever be unaffected by Steve Harrington’s charm, ever be used to it being aimed at you.
Of course, you knew of him in school, but knowing the real thing, the kind, caring boy who’d been buried under King Steve back then, is probably the greatest gift you’ve ever had.
Steve drives with one hand just above your knee, his thumb running back and forth over the stitching in your jeans. Still, he doesn’t tell you where he’s taking you, his only hint was to “pay attention to the radio station.”
It’s playing Christmas music. Like that narrows things down a whole bunch.
You chat the entire way. Steve asks you how the flower shop is doing (“Poinsettias are flying off the shelves”), you ask him who he got for the group’s secret Santa this year (“Max. I’m going to need your assistance”). It’s so easy to talk to him, to laugh and joke and not have to worry about what you say or how you come off.
You never knew being with someone could be so easy until Steve.
Eventually, he pulls into the long driveway of a farm. A Christmas tree farm, to be exact, if the wooden arch you drive through is to be trusted.
“What are you planning, Harrington?”
He shrugs, his hand squeezing your knee, “Thought we could pick out a tree together. Put it up at the house. My parents aren’t gonna be around — shocker, I know — I figured we’d do it together. Make it our own.”
Steve pats your leg before letting it go and putting the car in park, his palms dragging over his thighs like he’s suddenly nervous.
“Our first Christmas tree,” you say quietly, almost to yourself, a smile creeping onto your face. He really is sweet. “I love it. Let’s go adopt a tree, Stevie.”
He flashes you a smile before getting out and jogging around the hood to open your door for you. You’ve learned to wait for him to do it since you’ve been together. The last time you tried to open your own door he made you close it again just so he could be the one to open it.
Before, you’d never really cared about that sort of thing, but Steve has single-handedly raised your expectations.
He grabs your hand and leads you towards the classic red and white barn, following the signs painted simply with a tree and an arrow pointing you in that direction.
When you turn the corner and see the selection of trees, however, Steve pauses.
There are maybe seven trees left, none of which are very impressive upon first glance. Their branches are skinny and the pine needles leave a lot of space to see through them. It’s safe to say these aren’t the Christmas trees Steve was hoping to surprise you with.
He was sure there’d be something better left, at least. And he’d been wrong. Minus a point on that perfect Christmas, he supposes.
Still, he walks you to the selection, the farm’s employee greeting the two of you as you walk up; “Hey y’all. Good afternoon!”
“Hey man,” Steve starts, “you wouldn’t happen to have any more trees left, would you?”
“Sorry folks, this is all we’ve got. Most people like to get ‘em early.”
Steve’s hope dwindles, and you can see him deflate a little bit.
You, however, don’t mind one bit. You tug on his arm to get his attention, and Steve turns to look at you, brown eyes shining like honey in the sunlight. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “Even the little trees need homes, right?”
He shakes his head with a small smile. It’s cute, he thinks, the way you tend to talk about plants as if they have feelings. You do it when you tell him about the flowers you sell, too.
“Right as usual, honey,” he decides. “Pick your favorites.”
So, you wind up with two small Christmas trees rather than one full one, and there’s a small victory in it when you and Steve strap them both to the top of the BMW without too much of a struggle.
Another victory when you sing along to ‘Last Christmas’ and hold out your fist as if there’s a microphone in your grip to get him to join you. Admittedly, it isn’t a very good rendition, but Steve loves it all the same.
You have a way of turning things around for him, even without knowing it.
When you get back to Steve’s, he brings both of the trees inside and sets them up before bringing down the bins of ornaments and lights from the attic. He only shouted once when a spider crawled over his hand.
Having two trees makes it easy to turn decorating into a lighthearted competition. You both claim one as your own and decorate them with string lights and tinsel and ornaments. Steve’s mom would probably have an aneurysm seeing them used so haphazardly.
Though by the end, your tree is definitely prettier, Steve still feels like he’s won something as you lean your back against his chest and his arms cross over your own, keeping you there.
As a kid, he wasn’t even allowed to do the decorating. Mrs. Harrington had to make everything look picture perfect, and Steve’s hands didn’t help with that. Not according to her.
Today couldn’t feel more different from those memories of his childhood.
“Yours is better,” he tells you, chin perched on your shoulder, his voice low in your ear.
Objectively, it probably is better (your prior experience with arranging plants was an advantage), but you don’t actually care about that.
Today felt like a little glimpse into the future you and Steve could have. It’s easy to picture it: your own apartment, buying decorations you both actually like, setting it all up together every year.
“I think they’re both brilliant,” you say.
And while today wasn’t what he was picturing, wasn’t what he’d hoped for with his ideal holiday in mind, Steve finds that he can certainly live with that. Your adorable little clap when you’d finished decorating was enough to cement it.
It’s only one thing. He’s got plenty of chances to be perfect later, he guesses.
Steve dips his head and kisses the top of your shoulder over your sweater.
-
2.
You stay over at Steve’s that weekend. You’re both off work, and you find yourself spending your days (and nights) off with Steve more and more.
In the morning, you blink your eyes open slowly, naturally. No alarm set, your boy wrapped around you. It’s how you’ll spend every morning someday.
The sunlight sneaks through a crack in the curtains, cutting a line across Steve’s blue bedding. You squint at it, shifting onto your back gently. Steve’s arm remains slung over your waist as you move, his knee against your leg. You roll your head to the side to look at him, a smile creeping over your mouth at the way his cheek is smushed into the pillow, his lips pouting and hair a mess over his forehead.
Mornings have easily become your favorite time to spend with Steve. He’s cuddling you in some way every single time without fail, even when he wakes up. His voice is all low and gravelly from sleep and it feels like an honor to get to be the one to hear it like that. Usually, you spend an hour in bed with him after waking up. Laying together, talking, kissing. Sometimes (often) more.
You’d stay put right now if you didn’t have to pee so bad.
Slipping out of bed without Steve noticing proves a challenge, his arm tightens over you in his sleep, his brows scrunching. You whisper a soft “I’ll be right back.” He mumbles something incoherent, but his arm relaxes and you’re able to sneak away.
On your way back from the bathroom, you pause and take a peek out the window. You gasp happily at what you see: snow. A bright, white layer blanketing the ground sparkling in the sunlight.
You turn back to the bed and let yourself fall to it with a bounce, earning another grumbled protest from Steve, but there’s no way you’re going back to sleep now. You trail a hand up his arm to his shoulder, giving it a small shake, “Stevie, wake up.”
“Hm?” his eyes scrunch before opening. “What happened, honey?”
“It snowed!”
“Yeah?” he huffs a laugh at your excitement, his hand searching for yours in the sheets.
“Yeah, and it’s so pretty. We should go out before it melts.”
“It’s winter, sweetheart. Not gonna melt that fast.”
“Steve.”
“Okay, okay,” his hand leaves yours in favor of wrapping itself around you again, and he uses it to tug you close again. “Just five more minutes.”
His nose is pressed to the top of your head, and he breathes you in, smiling to himself. Mornings are Steve’s favorite, too. Only when they’re spent with you.
Secretly, he’s also happy about the snow. He was hoping mother nature would be on his side so that he could check yet another holiday item off his list with you. Hopefully one that will turn out nicer than the tiny trees you’d ended up with.
It’s definitely more than five minutes by the time you get Steve to get up and out of bed. You attempt to get him outside right away. He stops you with a: “No snow-related activities on an empty stomach!”
So, it’s a rushed breakfast of bagels and coffee provided by Steve, and then you’re gearing up and heading into the back yard.
The cold bites at your cheeks, and the tip of Steve’s nose is pink within minutes, but you love it.
There’s a snowman built together, snow angels made that get ruined when Steve rolls himself on top of you and steals a kiss or five. Naturally, all there is left to do is have a snowball fight.
You start it when you’re still on the ground, a hand sneaking into the snow to grab a handful and pressing it to the back of Steve’s head. He gasps, and you take the opportunity to push him to the side and get up.
“No fair!” he calls. “I was distracted and you went for the hair.”
“Your fault for not wearing a hat, babe,” you laugh.
“Oh, you won’t be laughing for long, honey. You’re in for it.”
And just like that, you’re running around like kids in a schoolyard, hiding behind trees, slugging snowballs at each other and cheering when you manage to not miss.
Steve silently thanks mother nature or the universe or whatever made it snow for the wide smile on your face, your eyes shining with mirth.
At one point, you’re suddenly distracted by something in the trees, and the snowball is out of Steve’s hand before he sees you start to look towards him again.
It hits you square in the face.
A quick “Ow” comes out of your mouth, though it really doesn’t hurt that bad. Your first reaction is just to let it slip, but Steve’s heart sinks to his stomach.
“Shit, honey.” He runs over to you and cups your face in his hands, his mittens soft against your skin as he brushes the snow from your face. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to get you in the face.”
Minus another point, for sure. Perfect Christmas: -2.
“I know, don’t worry,” you tell him, because he clearly is worrying.
“You okay?” he checks. He literally winces when you sniffle, frowns when he sees the way your eyes water. “Honey. I’m sorry.”
“Honestly, Steve, I’m fine,” you reach up and grab his wrists, squeezing them over his jacket. “I’m only crying ‘cause it got my nose. It doesn’t actually hurt.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you assure him. “Didn’t you used to play sports in school? Thought athletes had better aim.”
“I was a swimmer, baby. No projectiles involved.” He smiles softly when you laugh, but he can’t stop himself from asking one more time. “You’re really not hurt?”
“It’s just a bit of snow, Stevie.”
His eyes run over your face anyway before he nods. Then, he dips forwards and lightly kisses your cheek, the other, the tip of your nose, and your mouth.
“Well now I’m certainly all better,” you say against his lips.
Steve pulls back but doesn’t go far. “I think this snowball fight is over.”
“Buzzkill,” you tease.
He bends down and picks up a handful of snow before shoving it in his own face.
“Steve!” you laugh.
“There, now we’re even,” he says, snowflakes clinging to his lashes.
You let him lead you inside after that, his arm draping over your shoulders, yours hugging his middle as you walk across the yard.
Once you’ve both shed your layers of coats and boots and hats and mittens, Steve takes you upstairs and runs you a bath to warm you up. He apologizes another two times when he looks at your face for too long, and you have to kiss him to stop him uttering another ‘sorry.’
Hell, if it’s gonna make him this sweet on you, you’d probably take a snowball to the face any day.
Eventually, when the bathtub is full, a layer of bubbles over the surface, you coax Steve into joining you. He leans against the side with you between his knees, back settling into its home against his chest, his chin resting atop your head.
Steve runs his hands over your shoulders, presses kisses into your hair. All along he’s reminding himself that the next thing will go right. He won’t be throwing anything, at least.
-
3.
The next weekend Steve calls you again. He asks you to be ready in the evening this time, but still keeps things vague other than the fact that you’ll be outside and need thick socks.
You have a pretty good idea of what he has in mind, but he’d called it a ‘redemption date’ over the phone and even though you truly don’t think he has anything to redeem himself for, you don’t want to spoil his plans, so you play along.
He comes to the front door when he picks you up this time, knocking gently as if you hadn’t been waiting for him by the windows.
“Hi, honey,” he drops a quick kiss to your lips, “had to come and approve your outfit. Don’t want you getting cold and stealing my jacket again.”
He’s lying, really. Steve fucking loves draping his own jacket over your shoulders and seeing you pull it tighter around you. When that happens, he braves the cold, but he figures that probably won’t be smart for spending hours outside.
“Aww, but yours is so much warmer than mine,” you pout jokingly.
Steve simply grabs your thickest jacket from a hook by the door and holds it out for you to slip your arms into.
As suspected, he drives you to a skating rink. He chose one a town over from Hawkins, where they have twinkle lights strung above the rink and rainbow Christmas lights lining the boards. Steve smiles when you gasp lightly in delight at the sight of it. The brightness cutting through the already dark night sky.
Steve guides you over to the skate rental booth first, bumping his hip into yours when you attempt to pay for the rentals. “As if. My idea, my wallet.”
“You don’t even let me pay when it’s my idea, either.”
“Well, that’s just chivalry, babe.”
You roll your eyes at him and thank the man behind the booth when he hands you both your skates. As you walk towards the lockers and cubbies set up nearby, you lean up and kiss Steve’s cheek, his light stubble scratching your lips.
“Thank you for this,” you say.
“You don’t need to thank me,” he tells you. “Though I should warn you that I’m not very good at this.”
“What? You, not good at something? Please.”
“No, seriously. I’m like bambi on ice.”
You laugh and shove his shoulder weakly, “Don’t worry. I’m probably even worse.”
Steve grins. So far, so good. This one will be perfect. Well, as perfect as it can be considering his skating skills.
You sit on one of the benches and Steve puts both of your shoes in one of the cubbies. He ties his own skates first before kneeling in front of you to help you with yours. He knows how to tie them, at the very least.
He helps you slip your feet into the skates first, then tightens the laces on one before peering up at you and checking, “Feel okay? Not too tight?”
“It’s good, Steve. I feel like Cinderella.”
“A perfect fit! She must be the one!”
“Dork.”
“That’s prince dork to you.”
Steve finishes up with your skates, squeezing your ankle before setting your foot down and standing back up.
On the ice, neither of you are very graceful. You hold onto the boards most of the time, and Steve stumbles and nearly falls every few strides, but you’re laughing and having fun, so who cares?
So what if you get lapped by multiple people on the rink, including children? So what if you get some side eyes for being too slow or in the way? Neither of you can bring yourselves to be bothered.
Best of all, Steve keeps a hold on your hand the entire time. He literally saves you from falling with his grip on your hand squeezing and pulling you up straight.
However, your hands being clasped also means that, inevitably, when one of you goes down, you both do.
It happens after a decent amount of laps; your toe pick catches on a dip in the ice and it’s all it takes for you to lose your balance. Steve somehow twists himself to catch the brunt of your fall.
He expected that to come with some pain, a couple bruises, maybe. Instead, his wrist twists painfully against the ice as he falls, as if he’d tried to catch himself with it, and he can’t help the hiss of pain that comes out when he lands.
“You okay, honey?” he asks you.
“Of course I am. I landed on you, Stevie. Are you okay?”
He tests his wrist out by flexing it, wiggling his fingers, and he tries to hide it but he winces when he does, a sharp pain shooting up his arm. “M’fine.”
“Bullshit, I saw that wince, Harrington.” You manage to get back up on your feet and hold out a hand for him to grab, “Up, I’m taking you to the ER.”
“No, no. I’m good.”
“Steve.”
“Baby.”
“Come on, you don’t want to make it worse, do you?” you urge him. “Plus, I’ll only keep worrying and bugging you about it until you let me take you to the doctor. Your wrist is already swelling, babe.”
Mostly because he doesn’t like the thought of you worrying about him, Steve agrees.
When both of your skates are off (your doing, this time) and given back to the booth, you reach into Steve’s coat pocket and grab the keys to the BMW. He doesn’t protest, and that alone tells you he must be hurting more than he’s letting on. You even manage to open your own door for once.
Steve’s quiet on the drive to the hospital, his hand resting limply on his leg. His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut every so often when a burst of pain comes. You do your best to avoid any pot holes or bumps along the way.
Once there, you make him sit in one of the waiting room chairs, “I’ll get the check in forms and everything. Stay put, yeah?”
“Your wish is my command,” he says, trying to joke. His voice wobbles a tiny bit, though.
It’s at least an hour of waiting before someone can see him (and that’s including your many pesterings to the front desk). You don’t mean to be a bother, but you’ve never seen Steve injured in any serious capacity, and it’s messing with your head.
He took the weight of that fall to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. The way he pays attention to things like that is one of the many reasons you love him.
You love him. You haven’t said the words to each other yet, but you’ve felt them for a long time already. It’s hard not to love Steve Harrington.
Finally, the doctor takes him back, and you follow. After an x-ray and some prodding, he determines that it’s a sprained wrist and that he should keep it wrapped for a few weeks to make sure it heals. They give him a prescription for some mild painkillers, too, for the first couple of days.
You breathe a sigh of relief knowing it isn’t broken, but Steve’s shoulders are still slumped.
He’s in pain, sure, his wrist now wrapped up in a tensor bandage, but really he feels defeated at messing yet another thing up. Third strike.
Steve lets you guide him back to the car and drive back to his place. You’ve decided you’re staying the night to take care of him, and as much as he hates looking weak or feeling useless, he’s glad to have you around.
You dote on him back at home, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer after making sure he’s settled on the couch, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven, bringing him meds and water.
“Honey, it’s just a sprain. Please stop fussing and sit with me.”
His brown eyes shine a little, and you could never say no to him when he looks at you like that.
You sit beside him and he drops his head to your shoulder, your hand coming up to play with the strands at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp gently. His uninjured hand rests on your thigh and squeezes.
“Best painkiller ever,” he says.
-
4.
Steve has convinced himself that nothing could possibly go wrong this time around.
His plans for today involve staying at home, just you and him, no outside forces to deal with or avoid. So much less potential for failure. That’s what he thinks, at least.
Steve knows nearly every piece of you, so, obviously he knows you like to bake. You’d made him a cake for his birthday, and every so often you bring him other treats from home. Naturally, that meant that there was no way he was leaving out Christmas baking.
He’d considered doing gingerbread houses, and then remembered that the last time he tried that in a competition with the kids, his house was nothing more than a messy pile of gingerbread slabs. One with a bite taken out of it.
So, considering his past failures this holiday season, he’d settled on something that he thinks — hopes — is really hard to mess up: sugar cookies.
His mother’s collection of cookbooks had never been used for more than decoration until now. Steve searched through them until he found a recipe, wrote down the ingredients, and bought them at the grocery store to make sure he had everything.
In school, he never did much studying, but he reread the hell out of that recipe in order to get at least this one thing right.
The tensor bandage is still wrapped around his wrist, which is fucking annoying, really. He has to adjust it every day, and it’s hard to do with a single hand. He much prefers when you do it for him, sealing it with a featherlight kiss.
Worse, the thing still hurts, and you refused to let him drive and put more strain on it than necessary, so you took the bus and walked the rest of the way to his house.
He’s got all of the ingredients and tools laid out on the island when you ring the doorbell. “Hurry up, Harrington, it’s freezing!”
Hurry he does. He lets you in and helps you unwrap yourself from your bundle of a scarf and hat and mittens and jacket. Steve dips in to kiss your cheek, your skin cold against his lips. “Wouldn’t have to freeze if you let me come get you.”
“I don’t want you hurting yourself for no reason, I’m fine,” you grab his uninjured hand and kiss the pads of his fingers, “and I like these hands.”
He smiles at your words, smug, “Yeah, I know you do, honey.”
You shake your head at him, but you’re smiling all the same, “I take it back. Your ego is getting too big.”
“Nooo, it’s just the right size,” he winks.
“Don’t you have plans, Steve?” you ask, changing the subject. “Getting a little off track, aren’t we?”
“Later, then,” he says, taking your hand with his good one and leading you to the kitchen.
You pause at the entryway of the kitchen, scanning over the things on the island, two aprons Steve must’ve dug up from somewhere hanging from the knobs of the cabinets.
“Tada,” he says, “we’re making cookies.”
“This might be my favourite one yet, Stevie.” You walk over and grab one of the aprons, leaving the other (a pink floral number) for Steve. “I’m in charge, though.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, taking the other apron without a complaint. “This is your kitchen today, chef.”
“Mm. That has a nice ring to it.”
“Chef honey,” he says, planting a kiss where your neck meets your shoulder, breath warm even through your shirt.
You get started after that. Predictably, you make a mess with flour on the island and mixing bowls strewn about the surface. You get distracted with a bit of a flour war somewhere in there, Steve smudging it onto your cheek, you onto the tip of his nose.
When it’s time to roll out the dough and cut out the cookies, Steve grabs a handful of cookie cutters from one of the drawers, setting them onto the counter with a small clang. They’re all holiday themed. Candy canes and snowmen and Christmas trees.
“Someone’s prepared,” you say, bumping your hip against his.
“I run a serious establishment here, baby.”
“I thought I was in charge.”
Soon enough, after sneaking bites of raw cookie dough and cutting out as many cookies as you could manage, they’re placed into the oven, the timer set.
You end up in the living room, a random channel playing on the TV while the cookies bake. It starts innocently enough, just sitting next to each other, shoulders and thighs pressed together.
Then, Steve’s good hand wanders, starting above your knee and moving up and up until he’s squeezing the top of your thigh, tracing patterns with his thumb. When he speaks a husky, “Come closer?” how could you ever say no?
So, somehow, you’ve ended up straddling Steve’s lap, his injured hand resting loosely on your waist, the other pressed in between your shoulder blades to keep you close. Yours are in his hair, running through the strands, tugging even.
It grows heated fast, and all of a sudden you’re making out like a pair of teenagers, Steve urging you to press further down in his lap, to writhe there while his mouth works yours until it’s all you can think about. All you can feel.
The room feels warmer, Steve’s jeans tighter over his lap, your chest bumping against his, hearts racing. Even just kissing him feels better than anything you’ve ever had in the past.
He kisses you like he’s starved everytime, sometimes a ravenous hunger, like now, or, when he’s gentler, something tender and soft. A sweet tooth.
The cookies are long forgotten. The timer sounds and nobody hears it. You would keep going forever, if you could. But then there’s the smell that hits your nostrils. The smell of something burning.
“Steve?” you say against his mouth.
“Uh-huh?” he breathes.
“Do you smell that?”
He pulls back, and it’s immediately after you say the words that the alarm goes off, piercing through the air, killing the mood, much to your dismay. Even more to Steve’s.
“Fuck,” he groans.
You’re both rushing to the kitchen then. You, fumbling off his lap, him beating you to the kitchen and frantically taking the baking sheet out of the oven and turning the thing off. You grab a towel from the counter and start fanning beneath the alarm to get it to go off, and when the cookies are dealt with, Steve joins the efforts.
Eventually the thing stops beeping, and you both rest your arms. The room still looks a little cloudy, the cookies black at the edges.
Steve doesn’t say anything, only rests his elbows on the island and slumps his head, defeated.
He’s so frustrated with himself. Not for kissing you. No, he could never be mad at that, but at the outcome of his final attempt at a holiday date going south again.
You frown at him, walking over and placing a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. “Steve? You okay?”
“I just- I messed it up again.”
“Hey, I’m as much to blame as you are. It takes two to tango, as they say.”
He huffs a weak laugh, picking his head up and twisting to look at you. Your pretty face, eyes nothing but kind. Fuck, he loves you, and he just wanted to show you that. To make Christmas as magical as it's supposed to be.
“I really wanted it to go well, you know?”
You realize then that he’s not only talking about today. That he’s been putting this pressure on himself all month to make plans and something has happened every time. You don’t blame him for that, if anything, it makes your heart ache with adoration.
“Steve, it doesn’t matter to me. Things happen, it’s okay,” you kiss his bicep lightly. “I’d rather things go a bit wrong with you than to have them go right with someone else. You are the best part.”
“I-” love you, he almost says. But he doesn’t want the first time to be like this, in a room that still stinks. “You’re the best part for me too, honey.”
You decide that next time, it’s your turn to do something for him.
-
+1
Steve comes home from work on Christmas Eve, eyes tired and feet hurting despite having worn relatively comfortable shoes today.
He’d tried to get the day off, tried to be able to spend it with you in bed for hours and hours and not getting up until the afternoon. Keith had other plans for him.
He even tried to dramatize his wrist injury. Still, he was forced to go in.
Walking up the driveway, Steve sees the glow of lights inside filtering through the curtains. He’s fairly certain he hadn’t left any on, but he also knows he’s often wrong about these things, so he shrugs it off and goes inside.
There’s noise coming from the living room. Crackling of the fireplace that he barely ever uses, music playing quietly, and then he hears you humming along.
“Honey?”
“Yup, it’s me!”
You know where the spare key is, Steve’s the one who told you the information and encouraged you to use it, but you’ve often been too nervous to do so. Not today, it seems.
While Steve was at work, you’d set up your plan for him.
He follows the sound of your voice without much of a thought, a moth drawn to a flame. When he turns into the living room, he stills.
There are strings of warm white Christmas lights hung about, the fireplace is actually housing a fire, and in front of it is a fort made up of red and green and white blankets and pillows. Some plaid, some with snowflakes, all Christmas themed.
“Did you do all of this?” he asks, walking slowly to where you stand by the fort.
“Figured it was my turn to organize a date, don’t you think?”
“Baby. This is all really sweet, but wha-”
You cut him off, “Uh-uh. Let me explain.” You reach for Steve’s hands, and he meets you in the middle willingly. Suddenly nervous, you shift your weight on your feet. “I thought we could do presents a little early.”
His brows scrunch, “But Christmas is tomorrow.”
“Please?” you ask, squeezing his hands once.
And, really, Steve would never say no to you. Especially not when you’re saying ‘please’ all sweet and delicate like that.
“Okay,” he says. “Yours is in my room. I’ll go grab it. And change; I smell like Family Video.”
“‘Kay, Stevie.”
You kiss his cheek before he goes for good measure.
Steve is confused the entire time, wondering what it could be that you’re up to, but he does as he said he would. You’d been wearing a set of pyjamas (one he loves on you; a soft baby blue pair of shorts with a matching sweater), so he goes for one of his pairs of plaid pants and a plain t shirt before grabbing your messily wrapped gift bag from where he’d hidden it under his bed.
Back in the living room, he finds you now settled on the ground of the fort, which you’d lined with fuzzy blankets and the biggest of the pillows. His gift is sat beside you, a gift box wrapped in a lovely bow. Your skills of wrapping bouquets are transferable, he’s learned.
He joins you, sitting across from you, but close enough that your legs tangle and knees bump.
“You go first,” you tell him.
“Okay,” he scratches the back of his neck, handing you the gift bag. “Let me explain it before you say anything.”
That grabs your attention, but your plans aren’t about his present to you, really, and you know you’ll love it no matter what because Steve knows you better than anyone.
You lift out tissue paper first, uncovering multiple different things inside the bag, also wrapped. It pieces together as you go. A toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, your entire skincare routine, a couple of pyjama and underwear sets.
“It’s so you don’t have to bring an overnight bag every time you stay over now. I, um, cleared out a couple of drawers in my dresser and the bathroom.”
“Steve,” you look at him, heart squeezing. It’s so thoughtful, so him, and you surge forward you wrap your arms around his neck and breathe into his skin, “I love it. Thank you. It’s perfect.”
Perfect.
“You really think so?”
“Of course I do,” you sit back into your spot. “You know I hate carrying things.”
“I never let you carry anything, honey.”
“Exactly,” you nod. Now, you hold out his gift for him to take, “Your turn.”
You watch Steve’s hands as he tugs the bow undone, then lifts the lid of the box.
Nestled inside are four delicate ornaments. A Christmas tree, a snowman, an ice skate, and a plate of cookies. One for every date he’d planned for you.
Steve frowns at them, not because he doesn’t like them, but because he doesn’t quite understand where you’re going with this.
“I thought it was time we started collecting our own ornaments. For our place, one day,” you tell him.
“They’re lovely, but honey you- you really wanna remember these things?“ he shakes his head, more at himself than you. “I messed ‘em all up.”
“There’s one more thing in there,” you say quietly.
The thing you're nervous about. A thing you’ve never said out loud before.
Steve finds it beneath one of the ornaments, a small piece of paper folded up. When he opens that, his heart stutters in his chest. Written in your handwriting are three words: I love you.
He blinks away from the paper to look at you, though his thumb continues to trace the words absentmindedly. “Honey-”
“I love you, Steve. Okay?” You shift closer, kneeling at his side, your hands coming up to frame his jaw, your fingers kind against his skin. “I don’t care that things didn’t go how you planned. I mean, I would rather you didn’t require an ER visit, but the point is that I don’t need things to be perfect. And I know you’ve been hard on yourself trying to make them so.”
He lets go of the paper and reaches up to grasp your wrists, his thumb finding your racing pulse. His uninjured hand holds on tighter than the other.
“Thank you for trying for me,” you continue, “for caring. But no matter what happens, things are perfect for me. Because I get to do them with you. Got that, Harrington? You’re perfect, and I love you, and-”
He shuts you up with a kiss. It’s a simple but firm press of his lips against yours, but it says enough.
“I fucking love you too, honey,” he says, his forehead against yours, lips only a breath apart. “You saying all of that it means — you mean a lot to me.”
“Yeah, well, I meant it.”
“I know you did,” he nods. Steve pulls back the tiniest bit to be able to see your face fully, his sweet brown eyes locked on yours. “I wanted our first Christmas to be perfect, and I didn’t wanna let you down, but you’re right. They were perfect, because you’re here. And I love you for bein’ here.”
“As long as you’ll have me,” you say. You push his hair off his forehead before letting go of his face and sitting back, “Why don’t you give those ornaments a try?”
“On those trees?” he asks, eyebrows lifted, voice joking.
“Steve.”
”Okay, okay.”
He picks up the skate first. Surprising, considering that one had ended in a physical injury for him, but you say nothing and watch him walk over to your little trees by the window. You join him, sitting on the arm of the couch nearby while he scans over the tree.
“Pick a spot, handsome,” you encourage. “There’s really no wrong answer here.”
He goes to hang the first ornament, hand wavering before setting on a branch.
“Well, maybe not-” Steve tackles you onto the couch before you can finish. You dissolve into giggles as he pokes at your ribs, his head on your chest.
Steve’s done keeping score.
Perfect Christmas. That’s it.
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thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed please please consider leaving a comment and/or a reblog and letting me know what you thought! it would mean a bunch of<3
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gyubakeries · 3 months ago
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i am in neeedddd of some fluffy scoups fics, could you please write something about cheol🥹
𝘀𝗽𝗮-𝗱𝗮𝘆 | c.sc
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a/n: hi anon! sorry it took so long to get to this request 😭 writing all this made me want to have a spa-day, but i'm way too busy for one right now oof. thank you for requesting, and i hope you like it!
word count: 1.6k contents: seungcheol x afab!reader , established relationship , reader is tired , tiiiiny bit of angst BUT ITS SUPER FLUFFY , cheol is the best bf , self-care , domestic fluff , cheol is a girl's girl and we love him for it <3 , love next door is mentioned bcs im currently watching it :P
cheolz 💗 (19:59 p.m.) :
hi baby <3
when will u be reaching home 2night?
you (20:08 p.m.) :
outside front door rn
can u plz open up
read (20:08 p.m.)
the door swings open, and seungcheol's worried eyes take in your current condition. your work bag, slung from your shoulder, is weighing you down, making you slump forward. your eyes are red and watery. your skin looks pale, and you let out a sigh that makes seungcheol's heart ache.
"bad day?" seungcheol asks, and you nod weakly, left with no energy to even give him a verbal answer.
"c'mere love," he frowns, opening up his arms. you fall into his embrace, all the tension in your muscles melting away the second seungcheol tightly wraps you up in his arms. the feeling of being comforted feels so overwhelming that you can't help but let a few tears escape.
"i feel like shit," you mumble, your voice hoarse from crying in the car while you drove home from work. "i've failed at everything."
"i don't want to hear any of that," seungcheol shakes his head, holding you closer. "let me make you feel better, okay?"
you sigh again, pulling back slightly to look at your boyfriend. "i'm not in the mood for sex now, cheol."
"silly baby," seungcheol laughs, brushing his nose against yours. "i didn't mean sex. i thought i could help you unwind with your very own, made-at-home, spa-day!"
your eyes well with tears at how thoughtful your boyfriend is. seungcheol is quick to wipe the tears away, playfully scolding you. "no more crying. let's take the weekend to reset and start the next week afresh, hm? come on, i've got a lot planned."
your boyfriend slides your work bag off your shoulder and guides you into the apartment. he sets the bag down on the kitchen counter and comes back to kneel in front of you, helping you take off your heels. you sigh when your feet fall flat on the ground, tired from having to wear high heels the entire day.
"better?" seungcheol smiles, looking up at you, and you nod, feeling a little bit of energy seep back into you just by looking into seungcheol's eyes.
"good," your boyfriend says, getting up from the floor. "i've got to go check on the bath, so why don't you pick out some comfy clothes to wear, and then we can proceed?"
"okay, cheol," you agree, pressing a peck to his lips. his face lights up and he goes to the bathroom with a skip in his step. the exhaustion you had felt earlier was slowly getting replaced with the calming and healing presence of seungcheol.
your boyfriend really knew how to make you feel better.
you lay out your clothes on the bed. after a lot of thinking, you went with a hoodie (seungcheol's hoodie from college) and some baggy sweatpants. just as you were contemplating flopping onto the bed, a gentle touch on your shoulder makes you turn around.
"hey, your bubble bath is ready," seungcheol informs, and you realize that the entire spa-day idea was actually planned out well in advance.
"did you put in-"
"your favorite salted caramel-scented bath bomb? of course, baby. did you think i was a monster?" seungcheol gasps dramatically, making you laugh and hit his arm weakly.
"alright, i get it, you're obsessed with me," you roll your eyes, but you let seungcheol shrug off your blazer, unbuckle your belt and take off all your jewelry.
"yes, i am," seungcheol agrees, the genuinity in his voice knocking the air out of your lungs. you'd been dating him for seven years, ever since freshman year in college, yet sometimes his sincere love for you still surprised you.
the end of his lips tug into a smile at your silence, and he puts your jewelry away on your dressing table. "let's head into the bathroom," he instructs, and you follow him.
seungcheol stands in one corner of the bathroom, watching you as you take your clothes off and dump them in the laundry hamper. there isn't any heat behind his gaze, just the need to make sure you're taken care of.
"you gonna join?" you ask him, tugging your hair free from the bun you had put it in.
"i already showered earlier," he shakes his head. "i will be here though, to help with anything else you want."
"thank you," you smile shyly, getting into the filled bathtub slowly to make sure it doesn't overflow. the water was the perfect temperature, not too hot but not lukewarm either; just the perfect heat to make your body relax after a long day.
the scent of your favorite bath bomb envelops you, and lean back against the edge of the tub and close your eyes, letting out a content sigh.
after a few minutes of silence, seungcheol speaks up gently, now sitting cross-legged next to the tub. "did you wanna wash your hair?"
you blearily blink your eyes open, nodding. just as you're about to reach out for the shampoo bottle, seungcheol beats you to it.
"relax, let me do it for you."
you lean back again and watch seungcheol take some of the product on his palm and then kneel next to you. he lathers up the shampoo and then works it into your hair.
his touch is soft, yet firm. he massages your scalp with the shampoo, and as if taken away magically, the headache you had earlier vanishes. your eyes drop shut as seungcheol washes your hair.
you're sure you dozed off in the bath for a while, because you don't remember him rinsing the shampoo out, gently scrubbing your body clean, or drying you off with your towel.
you only wake up when he nudges you awake. "skincare time, baby."
you offer him a sleepy smile and a kiss to his cheek. you were dedicated to following your skincare routine daily, and you were glad that your boyfriend also gave it the same priority.
seungcheol gets you the clothes you put on the bed and you slip into them, the soft fabric of the hoodie engulfing you in warmth. you wrap your wet hair up in a towel and get to your skincare.
seungcheol stands beside you, a hand on your hip rubbing circles into the skin as he watches you apply various products on your face. you've explained all the various steps in your routine many times to him, but he can't keep a track of which is the toner, which is the serum and which is the cream.
once you were finally done, seungcheol walks you out of the bathroom with his hands on your shoulders.
"for dinner i got you take-out from your favorite chinese place," seungcheol says, seating you down at the dining table. "i haven't perfected my cooking skills yet."
"this is more than enough, cheol," you laugh, watching as he makes himself busy with warming up the food and bringing it to the table. "this is perfect."
"anything for my sweet girl," seungcheol winks flirtatiously, setting down a plate in front of you. "eat up, you need your energy. or else you're gonna be waking up like a hungry zombie tomorrow."
pretending to be offended at his words, you lightly kick his foot under the table. he responds by holding your free hand in his above the table as you both eat dinner in comfortable silence.
you're glad he doesn't ask you about work or what caused you to be this dejected earlier, because you frankly didn't have the energy to deal with all the emotions you felt earlier. knowing seungcheol, he'd probably whine and pout till you opened up to him later, so you put the sad thoughts away and focus on the moment.
you thought the night would wrap up with the meal. you felt far more happy than how you felt when you came home earlier, all thanks to seungcheol's efforts, but apparently, dinner wasn't the end.
after dinner, seungcheol loads the dishes in the washer, and then picks you up to take you to the bedroom. he props you up against the pillows and drapes the comforter over you.
"the new episode of love next door is up, you wanna watch?" seungcheol asks, grabbing the TV remote and getting under the covers next to you. the one thing you loved about your home with seungcheol was the TV in the bedroom, for the days either of you couldn't be bothered to go out to use the one in the living room.
"yeah, i need to know what happens next," you nod, a smile breaking across your face. seungcheol gives you a dimpled smile of his own and puts on the new episode of the series you both were heavily invested in.
as the intro started playing, you snuggle closer to seungcheol. as if on instinct, he outstretches his arm for you to use as a pillow, and you wrap your arm around his waist. your legs tangle together and you rest your head on his chest, breathing in his cologne.
"thank you so much, cheol," you murmur against his chest. "you helped me a lot today. if you weren't there-"
"we don't need to think about that," seungcheol shushes you. "no matter what, i'd always be there for you. which is also why you don't need to thank me. i do it because i love you."
"i love you too," you reply, looking up at him. you're met with his loving gaze; the gaze that heals you from the inside out, easing all your worries and filling you with hopes for a better tomorrow.
a tomorrow with seungcheol by your side.
you lean in to kiss him sweetly, and he complies easily, holding you impossibly closer to him. just as you break away, a character on screen starts yelling, startling the both of you and making you burst into laughter.
the long, weary day finally ends with you safe and secure in seungcheol's arms.
you wouldn't have it any way else.
- fin.
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chewnotchoke · 3 months ago
Text
in the warmth of your touch,
— boynextdoor with a s/o who feels cold
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requested by anon <3 idk if a similar fic was written prior to this but pls do let me know if there is
comments are highly appreciated! also been a while since i last posted so i hope u enjoy this one!
sungho
𓍯 it was your first time sharing a bed with sungho. you snuggle into yourself, but you still feel an icy breeze along your back, and the room is colder than you anticipated. you know every inch between you and sungho, who is laying only on the opposite side, so you don't want to move too much.
it's not quite enough to have a blanket drawn firmly around your shoulders. you wonder whether he feels the same hesitancy because he hasn't said anything yet, likely in an attempt to settle in. but before you can say anything, you feel his arm extend and his touch lightly rest on your shoulder.
“i think it’ll drive me crazy if i’m not closer than this to you.” sungho says close to your ear. the softness of the moment, the way his hand rests on your arm, and the silent comfort in the gap between you are all that's left. under a blanket that is too tiny, the two of you are feeling warmer than ever.
riwoo
𓍯 maybe going on a walk on a cold night was a bad idea. you didn’t bring any sweater with you to warm you up, and your clothes were almost thin. the breeze was crisp and unexpected on an april night. worse, you were walking side by side with riwoo.
“you look cold. do you want my jacket?”
you declined, knowing it would be bad for him if he tries to make you warm. it’s been a while since you started dating but you still couldn’t help but get shy around him. his kindness makes you fluster, only because you like him that much. he noticed how you kept trying to bring your arms closer to your body to summon any warmth left.
before you knew it, like an embrace, his jacket was enveloped around your shoulders. the wind made it easier to smell his scent on the fabric. from behind, riwoo then wrapped his arms on your shoulders as he draws you closer to him.
“we could stay like this longer if you want.”
and both of you were giggling because he didn’t want to let go of you while walking. flirtatious glances accompanied every step, and your breath was audible in the cold air, fitting in with the playful conversation that seemed to revolve around you two.
jaehyun
𓍯 would be the type to make cheesy comments because he's actually shy about holding your hand and his cheeks are tinted with a faint blush. "you know you don't need to buy hand warmers because you already have me, right?" he says. your fingers are intertwined with each other and he adds, "other people can't find a hand warmer like me!" he grins. you'd laugh at his remark and say "so you're like my personal hand warmer then?"
"yeah, i'm yours only." both of you would laugh at each other's cheesy comments, warming up your hand even more like how much his laugh and smile warms up your heart. he loves playing with your hand, and makes more comments to conceal his shyness.
he doesn't tell you he likes it when you feel colder because then it's his chance to hold you closer to him. he'd ask you if your body feels cold too so you could snuggle together and wrap his arms around your waist.
taesan
𓍯 taesan gets more flirty because he loves the feel of your touch when you use his face to warm up your hands. on a study date you had with him, he reached out to your hands and noticed they were cold.
“can i make use of that pretty face to warm me up?” you asked, a smile crept onto his face. he was holding your hand and slowly bringing it to his face. you couldn't resist grinning as your palm touched taesan’s cheek and the warmth that radiated from him seemed like a soft sunshine.
taesan wasn't finished yet, though. he closed his eyes for a second, perhaps enjoying the sensation as he leaned into your contact and pushed your hand closer.
with a low voice, he whispered, "you don't realize how good this feels."
you move a few strand of his hair away from his face asking, “like it that much?” he opens his eyes to meet yours before replying “i love it so much i could fall asleep like this.”
leehan
𓍯 at a cafe, you were staying with your boyfriend leehan for food. "baby, it's getting a little colder here." you were slightly shivering from the breeze of the air conditioner despite being wrapped with a long-sleeved shirt and thick denim pants. leehan watches you while you barely couldn't smile from the cold freezing air.
"i told you to order something hot like coffee." leehan holds both of your shoulders, making you face him. he starts rubbing his palms in an exaggerated motion, trying to summon warmth.
he leans in as he cups your face with his hands, warm like a furnace as it dissolves the chill settled on your cheeks. being the playful guy that he is, he lightly squeezed your face, filling his expression with a teasing laugh. "better?" he grins.
"stop making fun of me."
"it's okay, you're cute."
woonhak
𓍯 woonhak would be the type to take your hand and put it inside his pocket. woonhak slowly pulls your hands apart as his fingers discover yours. he silently puts your hands in his coat pockets while keeping his own hands firmly in place. with his thumb making soft circles on your skin, he occasionally squeezes your hand. the subtlety of it makes you wonder if he even recognizes what he's doing.
a grin forms in your face, realizing how bold he is but his pink cheeks were still visible. he doesn’t let go, not even when you finally stop shivering.
there's a pleasant, familiar smell of his cologne that hovers between you. now that he's near enough, you can feel his soft breath and his presence enveloping you like an invisible blanket. the gentle curve of woonhak’s lips and the faint flush on his cheeks that intensifies when he knows you're observing him are visible when you dare to look up.
“like it so bad when i hold your hand like this you can’t even stop looking at me, huh?” he teases you
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gr4c3fu-1 · 12 days ago
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You think youre strong..? | Choi Seung-hyun (t.o.p) x fem!reader
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#—;; summary: you and your boyfriends group messing around before a show! (Req from Anon.)
#—;; word count: 1k
#—;; warnings: none this is ALL fluff.
#—;; a/n: this might me horrible i havent written a fic in literally years. (ive also got someone from school who follows me. If u see this lily hhhiiii………… you see nothing.)
————
The boys were about to perform, You being apart of their crew was ironic, because you fell in love with one of your clients when you obviously werent suppose to..
Nobody knew of course other than the insiders, but it was still a risk to be in public together.
Sitting in the green room, leaning against your boyfriend Choi Seung Hyun as everyone scrolled on their phones mindlessly made you upset.
You huffed and slammed your phone down onto the couch cushion next to you, making a loud thump! catching everyones attention.
“Guysss we need to socialize! Youre all acting like a bunch of screen-agers.” You groaned, shooting up out of your seat quickly and snatching their phones out of their hands while still stunned.
Multiple groans and “aw come on!”’s errupted from the 4 boys.
“Now. Lets play some games! We have HOURS until you have to go on, so lets do something.” You said sitting back down between your boyfriend and Ji-Yong who was sat on the other side of the couch.
“Like what. What could we possibly do?” Ji-yong stated unenthusiasticly.
“Welll… we could play never have i ever!” You suggested excitedly but all the guys quickly dejected, claiming it was a “girly game.”
You thought long and hard for a game they would actually enjoy playing, and wasn’t too “feminine” or “childlike.”
“..how about arm wrestling? Thats more ‘masculine’ isnt it?” You suggested looking at the boys who immediately stumbled to their feet eagerly.
“Okay who wants to go first, i can ref!” You stated smiling. The men eager to actually do something fun threw a blanket of happiness over you.
Seung Hyun immediately raised his hand, aswell as Taeyung.
They sat at the opposite sides of the short table, settling themselves.
You placed your hand ontop of their interlinked hands, watching as the boys glared at eachother.
If looks could kill, they would both be sliced to shreds.
“3…2…1!” You released their hands, Daesung and Ji-Yong cheering for their mates.
“Go!! Cmon Seung hyun, you havent been working out for nothing have you?!” Ji-yong exclaimed, clapping his hands in a hype manner beside him.
And lord, he wasnt wrong.. that gorgeous mans arms were no joke, when he wore short sleeves (which was very rare) it was your favorite thing to just cling onto them.
“Youre really gonna let him win against you? Think about it. Youve arm wrestled countless men stronger than him and won!!” Daesung yelled loudly, slamming his fists on the table next to where their arms rested.
You could see the two boys faces, as they strained to win.
Taeyungs hand started slowwwllyy bringing Seung Hyuns hand lower and lower, signifying his (amost) win.
The relief on Taeyungs face was evident, until Seung Hyuns hand swung quickly and Taeyungs knuckles hit the table.
He yelled loudly at his loss, standing up quickly out of anger.
Seung hyun stood up aswell, giggling tauntingly
“Ha ha haaa!! You thought i was gonna let you win?!” He strutted around, pointing at his opponent.
“Yeah yeah whatever blegghhh” Taeyung muttered, sticking his tongue out at him.
Your boyfriend just kept going on and onnnn at his mate, which you couldnt help but feel a litttle bit bad for.
“I wanna arm wrestle too, Seung Hyun.” You exclaimed, smiling.
He raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh yeah? Just so you can whine when i win in 0.52 seconds in?” He chuckled
“Im gonna win. You’ll see!! Ive been working out actually.” You mentioned, flexing your arms dramatically.
“Yeah whatever, get over here.”
You sat across from him, getting settled while ji-yong was now the ref.
“3, 2, 1, go!” He said, releasing you both.
You stared into his eyes, with every sign of struggle on your face (which wasn’t exactly all true).
He chuckled, while toying with you, easily pushing your hand up and down.
“Ow ow ow—!!” You yelped, gripping your arm while still pushing.
“What? Whats wrong??” Your boyfriend said in a panick, immediately ceasing his pushing.
Your whole demeanor shifted, from a scared and hurt face to smirking and shoving his hand down.
You stood up quickly whooping in victory. “WOOOO. i TOLD you id win!!! Hows your ego now?” You said cheerily
He looked at you in disbelief, his jaw practically to the floor as you jumped around, the boys all giving you high fives.
“I cant.. believe you.” He muttered, with genuine shock on his face.. almost dissapointment.
You noticed he hadnt gotten up or moved, causing you to panick.
Did he take it THAT serious?
You stood next to him “wait im sorr-“ but you couldnt get out what you wanted to say before he picked you up and threw you on the couch, a huge smile on his face
“I cant believe you’d pull the OLDEST trick in the books on me!” He hollered.
“OHHHH HE GOT YOU!!” Taeyung yelped, pointing at the two on the couch practically wrestling.
You tried to shove him off, giggling ecstatically as he tickled you relentlessly.
He gripped your wrists, holding them in place, this intense moment of keeping his deep brown eyes locked onto your own.
“You think youre the strong one, huh? What about now?” He teased, his grip holding tighter onto you.
You couldnt help but giggle nervously, as you stared into your boyfriends eyes.
“Okayyy..! Okay you can take the win.. i cheated..” you muttered, a bright blush on your flustered face.
Even though he was your boyfriend, you couldnt help but feel like you were a kid with a crush on him still.
He gazed into your eyes, debating on messing with you more but deciding against it, (you were screwed after their performance though, and you knew it.) loosening his grip on your wrists, as you leaned up and gave him a peck on the lips, before rolling out from under him.
He scoffed as he stood up, shaking his head as Ji-Yong wiggled his eyebrows at the both of you while the rest jokingly yelled out in high-pitched voices.
“Ewwww!!” “Oh my gawsh theyre kissingggg!”
“You guys are like our parents.. arguing all the time, and when you kiss we all cringe and laugh!” He exclaimed teasingly
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tojirights · 1 year ago
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aa i don't usually do asks but could u do 68 with alastor? tysm for considering!! feel free to ignore or delete
prompt: "kneel."
a/n: finding out alastor is 7ft tall isn't helping me lose my mind any less. ty anon 🩷 requests open!
alastor loved to push people's buttons, loved to get a reaction out of everyone. he was efficient in finding out just what made someone tick within a few interactions. what he noticed about you was that you hated being told what to do. now, what alastor found equally funny is that you actually loved being told what to do. especially when you were told to do anything for him.
oh, he was going to have fun with this new information.
he sent for you to meet him in the broadcast tower quite a bit earlier than usual, but you assumed maybe he needed some help setting up and, of course, showed up even earlier than expected. alastor spins around in his chair when you enter, a smirk already tugging at his smile. "ahh, there's my good girl." he coos, his voice making your blood heat in a way you convince yourself is anger.
"ugh, fuck off. you refuse to text so i always assume you send early for me because of something important." you grumble, watching his eye twitch at the mention of your cellular device. the room seems to get colder as alastor stands, taking slow steps towards you. the look in his eyes is almost sinister, and his smile unnerves you.
he places a finger under your chin and forces your gaze up to meet his. "watch that mouth of yours, my dear." there's a low, threatening tone in his words and it makes you want to bite back but as soon as you open your mouth to tell him off, he's reaching around for a fistful of your hair and tugging your head back.
his mouth finds your ear, warm breath ghosting over your skin. you can't control the way your body shakes, a shuddering pant leaving your lips. you're not sure if its arousal or fear, to be honest. but then, alastor breaks out into a grin.
"kneel."
your eyes widen, and your breath catches in your throat. heat pools low in your stomach, as well as adrenaline. he's got you, and he knows it. your knees shake with desire to drop, to do anything this man tells you, and when you slowly start to lower yourself, alastor laughs. "now see?" he smirks, his fingers running through your hair as you descend. "i know you're my good girl. it can be our little secret." he hums, petting your head as you kneel at his feet.
"you can continue to be a brazen little brat to everyone else, but you and i both know this is who you really want to be." you look up, seeing alastor towering over you and you bite your lip to silence yourself. the primal urge to obey courses through you, making your hands shake with desire. "now, are you going to continue to mouth off or put that mouth to good use?" he snickers when your eyes darken. "you'll be rewarded for your good behavior, don't you worry."
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wonbriiize · 1 year ago
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bestfriend!Anton who puts you on his lap to give you affection, touches your hair, kisses you on the neck...being super clingy and fluffy :(
pairing; anton x reader
genre; fluff, best friends to lovers
note; i thought this was such a cute idea so i wrote something based on it.. hope u like it anon ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
listen to your heart
while working in retail isn’t all that horrible most of the time, you despise it over the holidays. everyone goes crazy as they search for last-minute christmas presents for their loved ones, friends or anyone else.
today was one of those days when everything was so annoying that you really thought about quitting your job right then and there.
luckily, your shift has ended and you are now on your way back home. you seem to be forgetting what a terrible day it has been so far as you imagine yourself curled up in your warm bed while drinking hot choco and watching your comfort movie.
“*y/n*, someone is waiting for you in your room,” your mom says after giving you a big hug when you arrive at home.
you‘re confused as to who it could be, until you recall that your best friend anton texted you saying he‘d drop by later as you were spamming him with messages about that one costumer who was extremely rude to you.
you run up the stairs to your room. you’re not so sure why you’re so eager to see anton, but you can’t help yourself. being with anton after a tiring day makes you feel at ease. he just has that effect on you.
“ohhh, slow down,” anton sits up on your bed. you can tell he made himself feel at home because just a second ago he was laying in your bed as if it was his own. “why are you running? is the rude customer after you?”
since you can’t tell anton that you hurried up to your room because of him, you just throw yourself on your bed. “no, i just really missed my bed. it has been an exhausting day.”
“and here i was hoping that you were running because you couldn’t wait to see me,” anton pouts, leaning back on your bed.
you’re right, you think. but i can’t let you know..
“well, apparently you were missing me because how are you at my house when i’m not even there?”
anton shrugs. “so what if i missed you, is it so wrong to miss your best friend?”
you’re shocked at how casually anton can say things like this. does he truly not realise how much of an impact his words have on you? it irritates you that he's saying these things and acting so dreamy when you're already trying to shake the thought that you like him — much more than you could ever imagine liking someone.
you sigh, laying down on your back. “i just really need to rest.”
“hey, come here,” anton pats next to him. “we can rest together.”
for a second, you’re not sure if you should really go and sit down next to him, because your feelings are all over the place today and you don’t know what could happen, but you push those thoughts aside and just go for it.
“you can lay your head on my lap. i will give you a head massage. i‘m a pro,” anton softly smiles at you.
god, he really isn’t making it easy to not fall in love with him, you sigh. your head is telling you not to do it, but for once in your life, you decide to listen to your heart instead.
you place your head gently on anton‘s lap. you’re afraid you won't be able to resist kissing anton if you open your eyes and see him staring down at you, hence why your eyes are closed.
anton starts massaging your head softly and you’re surprised at how good it actually feels.
“i didn’t expect you to be actually good at this,” you say.
“i told you i‘m a pro,” anton chuckles. hearing him giggle put a smile on your face and usually you would try to hide that, but right now, you’re just letting it happen.
“there it is,” anton whispers softly as he touches your cheek, causing you to open your eyes immediately.
“what?”
“your beautiful smile.”
you start laughing nervously. what’s his deal? why is he being extra sweet today?
“don’t say such things, anton.”
“why not?" his hand returns to your head, but instead of giving it a massage, he plays with your hair, twisting it around with his index finger.
“best friends don’t say that..” what you just said has a sad undertone, but you don’t care. maybe if anton knows that he’s kind of playing with your feelings, he will stop being like that.
anton shakes his head. “no, they don’t.. but here’s the thing, *y/n*..”
the sudden change in the atmosphere makes you nervous so you sit up. still close to anton, but there’s a little distance between the two of you now.
“i‘ve been trying to tell you for the longest time that i don’t want to be just best friends with you,” anton blurts out. “i thought it was obvious that i like you.”
world stop. anton likes me?
“but everytime i try to make a move you put me back in the friendzone, saying things like ‘best friends don’t do that..”
with a sincere expression of sadness that makes your heart hurt, anton glances down at his hands.
“i guess you really don’t like me in that way and i was just stupid to to think that-”
refusing to let anton continue, you take hold of his hand and place it directly over your heart.
“do you feel this?” you whisper.
anton nods unsure.
“my heart beats this fast everytime i‘m with you.”
“is that a good or a bad sign?” anton pulls his hand away and looks questionably at you.
his question makes you laugh. “of course it’s a good sign.. it means that you’re the reason why my heart feels so alive.”
“oh,” anton nods, a little smile forming on his face. “so you do like me.”
now it’s you who’s nodding.
just a while ago you didn’t want anton to know how you really feel about him because you were so afraid that the feeling was one-sided, but now that you know it’s mutual, you’re ready to take the initiative.
you slip closer to anton and sit down on his lap. first he’s surprised at your sudden move, but then you feel his arms around your waist, holding you close to him.
seconds later, your lips meet his. not only was your heart racing faster than before, but because your bodies were so close, you could literally feel anton‘s heart racing as well.
you weren't expecting it, but as anton plastered kisses all over your face and neck, things heated up quickly. you didn't want him to stop, but knowing that your parents could walk into your room at any point made you want to go slowly.
“maybe we should continue this when we are alone, like completely,” you whisper as anton was kissing your neck.
“hmmm,” kiss. “maybe..” kiss. “you‘re..” kiss. “right.”
he stops, looking at you with the biggest smile on his face.
“this big smile looks good on you,” you put your arms around antons neck.
“and you know why i’m smiling like this? it’s because of you,” anton softly whispers before he plants another kiss on your lips.
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nerdy-novelist017 · 6 months ago
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omg i love ur writing sm✨🩷💋
do u think u could write sumthin like benny coming home to finding u snuggled up on the couch in one of his huge shirts?????
Thank you for this super sweet request, Anon! Sorry I've been taking forever to get around to the requests, but I'm trying to get back into the routine of working on them a little bit every day. Hope you enjoy!
Benny x Bunny Masterlist
Word Count- 1.1k+
T-Shirts (Benny Cross x Shy! Reader)
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Benny cursed under his breath as he stumbled over the threshold of the front door. He’d been out with the Vandals, not an actual meeting, just a night out with a few of the main members. He’d invited you as he always did, but you declined. You had told him that you wanted to have some alone time after a long day at work. He understood – girls needed their ‘me time’ to pamper themselves or whatever, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to miss you. You were sometimes all consuming to him, his thoughts almost always ran back to you. Johnny and the boys could see it, anyone that really knew Benny (few as they were) knew he was completely infatuated with you. He was drunk off your touch, your voice, your smile. How could he be separated from you for long? So as the night progressed and he accepted more whiskeys being slid in his direction, his thoughts of you became more hazy, more melancholic and finally Johnny took pity on him and told him to go home. 
The slight buzz from the beers he had early did not mix well with the lack of lights. Usually, you left on the front porch light for him when you knew he would be out late and you were going to bed early. But it wasn’t the case tonight he realized as all the lights in the main level of your house were turned off. As he tossed his bike keys onto the entryway table and flipped on a light, he wondered briefly in his intoxicated mind if you were upset with him and this was your passive aggressive way of punishing him for staying out late, but that theory quickly diminished when he caught sight of the couch. At first glance, it looked like just a pile of throw blankets, but he was convinced he could spot your familiar form no matter how much light there was in the room. 
He slipped out of his boots and jacket, standing there for a moment longer in appreciation. A lovestruck smile overtook his face at the view of you curled into your side, that yellow blanket with white flowers (one you had begged him to buy when you first moved in together, stating that it was the perfect piece to pull the room together. He honestly couldn’t have cared less about the living room or its decor, but the smile on your face when he put it in the shopping cart made it suddenly the most important detail.) pulled over your body, a forgotten book laying face down on your chest – a clear indication that you had once again fallen asleep while reading. Your mouth slightly agape, your features looked so soft and girlish that it took Benny’s breath away knowing you were his. Even though he saw some incredible sunrises, sunsets and starry nights when he went riding, you were without a doubt the most beautiful sight he got to come home to. 
Unable to restrain himself any longer, he crossed the room, stooping to trace a hand across your face, brushing the tousled hair from your eyes. With his other hand, he looped his fingers through the spine of your novel, making sure to save your page mark as he placed it on the coffee table. His left hand moved beneath your knees and his right supported your back as he effortlessly lifted you into his embrace. That’s when he realized you were wearing one of his shirts, the white material clearly oversized on your small figure. He didn’t know a simple white t-shirt had the ability to be sexy, but clearly he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was because you had the talent to make just about anything look painfully arousing on you. And nothing at all. And to make matters even harder for Benny, he knew it wasn't your intention when you put on his shirt to look sexy, you probably weren’t even aware of the effects of your body in that damn oversized t-shirt and the way it clung to your chest as he lifted you, nor the way it molded around your hips. You were certainly not aware of the sudden twitch in his pants because of the way the garment just seemed to make you look even more of the little bunny that stole his heart. 
“Benny?” your muffled, half asleep voice hit his ears like the sweetest melody as you snuggled into his chest. 
“Stealin’ my clothes, Bunny?” he teased and you sunk further into his embrace, not quite awake enough to catch his playfulness. He carried you up to your bedroom, using his foot to kick the door shut behind him. He placed you gently on your side of the bed and almost laughed as you tugged him back down to you for a messy kiss. 
“I like the way it smells like you,” you admitted as you rubbed your eyes, the action pulling on Benny’s heartstrings. 
“You may have to keep it. Looks better on you,” he smiled as he stepped back to change into something more comfortable. 
“Whatever you say, Cross.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your words slurring together. “I tried waitin’ up for you. Did ‘ya have a good time?”
“Go back to sleep, Bunny,” he coaxed gently, smiling as your blinks were growing longer by the second. That was always something you wanted to do: you liked to lay in bed and talk about your days if they happened to be spent apart. You encouraged him to talk more than he’s ever talked in his life. Sometimes he felt as though your chattiness was rubbing off on him, but you never interrupted nor discouraged him from expressing his thoughts. He loved you more for that. “There’s plenty of time to talk about it tomorrow.”
“M’kay, come lay with me?” you asked and Benny scoffed because was that even a request you needed to make? He was drawn to you like a moth to flame, he couldn’t resist having a hand on you while he slept. It was like some instinctual urge projecting him to keep you near, to keep you safe, even while he was floating in the realm of sleep. 
He shook his head as you muttered a final incoherent sentence into the side of your pillow, eyes falling shut again. He crawled into bed behind you, slipping his hand around your waist and pulling you flush against his body as he pulled the blankets over the two of you. A soft, content sigh escaped you, and Benny looped his hand into yours, pulling it up to his lips in a soft kiss as he whispered “I love you, Bunny.”
-Tag List-
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cvntluver444 · 6 months ago
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7 mins in heaven w ellie😇😇😇😇
thank you so much for your request and your support love!! <3
✞ 7 minutes ✞
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✿ summary : the request!
✿ warnings : smut minors/men (boys) dni, puss rubbing, dirtyy talk, shy reader, sweet ellie, ellie teaching reader, reader is in closest!!!!!!, mentions of reader in str@ight relationship, almost getting caught!, if i missed any lmk pls!
✿ a/n : thank you for supporting my works as always! this is not my best work bc i used all my creative brain juice on my last fic so i am so sorry! unfortunately, i am headed back to school this weekend so my writing is going to slow down, but i'm not stopping don't worry babies. im hoping to put out 2-3 fics a week still!!!! keep sending in those requests! I have one more to work on, so to the anon who requested it its coming i promise my love!!!!
ALSO i did kind of make this a personal fic im so sorry LMAO basically i just explain how when i finally realized i was gay YAYAYA !!!!!!! but yeah warning again the reader in this is based on me so it is like finding out you're into girls later on kind of thing so if this is something you're not interested in feel free to skip! I hope you like it lucy!!! (idk if that's your real name im just going to call u that teehee) i love you all so much! muah
✿ as always, please remember to keep spreading information on and support Palestine!!
daily click
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
you anxiously played with your fingers as the last of the party guest gathered around the huge circle. your friends and you decided to spend your saturday night at one of your classmates party, resulting in you now dreading your turn in the 'truth or dare' game.
"you okay?" you turn your head to your left as your eyes land on your friend, who clearly could pick up on how nervous you looked.
"yeah i'm fine," you tell her. "just hope i don't have to do anything stupid or embarrassing. she laughs at your comment.
"don't worry, i doubt you'll even get picked. there's a lot of people here and were all drunk so, who cares!'. her shouts fills the room, drawing a couple eyes toward the two of you. you giggle and hide your face, trying to tell her to keep it down. in the midst of shushing her, your eyes graze the room, watching people roll their eyes at her behavior. but your eyes catch someone else's and you freeze.
ellie williams
she sends you a soft smile, a dark look in her eyes. you gulp and look away quickly. god, she was so hot you thought. you hope she couldn't how flustered she made you. you hope no one could. your whole life, you've always had no problems catching boys' attention. you could have a whoever, whenever, but with this luxury came its flaw. you never actually liked the boys you went out with, you just loved being loved, being in a relationship. you never understood why you felt that way, but just continued on normally, not giving yourself a chance to actually explore more about yourself. but when you first met ellie freshmen year, the feelings finally became visible, especially after finding out she was also into girls; however, you were still not sure if she felt the same. This caused you to once again burry your feelings and close yourself up. You were too scared, and way too sober to even try to talk to ellie.
suddenly, a loud voice can be heard yelling throughout the house. "truth or dare starting now in living room," on boy shouted. your palms became sweaty and you prayed that everyone would pick up on your uncomfortableness and just leave you alone. as always though, the world likes to work in funny ways, and you feel a large presence sit next to you and tap you on the shoulder.
"hey," the boy smiles, "cool if i sit here?" you just give me a simple nod of your head and continue your attention elsewhere, your thoughts interrupted once again. "you look good tonight, by the way". you turn back around, and give him a quiet thanks, and before he could respond, everyone around you begins to pick who will go first for the game.
after three or four people went, you began to grow annoyed. the man next to you could not take the hint, and you were the only person here not having a good time.
"alright williams," the room cheers silently, "truth or dare". your attention is now fully on ellie. she stares up at her friend who just picked on her, small smirk on her face as she answers with a confident dare. "hmmm," her friend hums out loud, looking around the room. you swear you see their eyes stop on yours for a second, before they get an idea. "i dare you to do 7 minutes in heaven," they pause and the room is filled with oooo's. your heart drops a bit. "a person of your choosing." now everyone was going crazy. everyone knew ellie was gay, and everyone knew she made every girl gay, so it was a pretty heavy dare.
ellie smiles up at her friend, sage you think their name is, before she slowly starts scanning the room. you quickly look down, hoping that your avoided eye contact would make you more invisible. your only focus now was watching your fidgeting fingers and giving back half asses answers to the man beside you who still will not shut up.
you hear ellie suck in her breathe before she slowly gets up from the ground. all you wanted to do in this moment was sink into the ground, not sure how you were going to handle seeing ellie pick another girl that isn't you and go fuck her in the closet. too deep in your thoughts, you don't hear the air leave your friends lungs as a certain someone stalks towards you. you only know ellie is right in front of you once you see the beat up sneakers sneak right under your vision.
your eyes widen and you cant breathe. there has to be someone behind you right? no, she could not pick you. in fear that you would be disappointed when looking up, you keep your head down, telling yourself that you're just-
your friend next to you quietly says your name, excitement laced in her voice. she was the only one you told, the only one you could trust with something so personal to you, so to say she was absolutely ecstatic to see ellie pick her best friend, well that was an understatement.
after your quick reality check, your line of vision trails from the top of her feet, all the way to her line of vision, where you see hear towering over you, smirk on her face. you felt like you were going to throw up.
"wanna come with me?" she asks you, that little smile never leaving her face. you look around the room, everyone in just as much shock as you. you look back at ellie, and without thinking twice, you nod your head yes.
she grabs her hand out for you to take, and you two make your way into the closet in between the living room and kitchen, but not before ellie yells something along the lines of keep yourselves busy, and don't be pervs. you feel like you're dreaming, you can't believe ellie williams picked you. but suddenly, you're brought back into reality when she closes the closet and turns on her phone flashlight.
"so," she begins, "how's your night been." you now grow extremely insecure at how little you've been talking to her, not knowing exactly what to do next considering you've never been with a girl.
"oh uh," you begin, "it's been okay. what about yours?" stupid stupid stupid.
"pretty good. saw that guy talking to you. you looked uncomfortable so thought i would save you." she gives a light giggle, but your heart drops and you look at her with sad eyes.
"oh uh yeah haha thanks," you attempt to say, sadness clearly laced in your voice. ellie picks up on it.
"are you okay? did he do anything?" she asks you, coming closer, concern reading all over her face. you blush at how much she cares about you.
"no, no, he didn't do anything, just was annoying," you let out a breathy laugh. "i guess i just thought that we were gonna, ya know, since you picked me, um, never mind this is stupid." your cheeks are now red with embarrassment, and ellies face softens at your rambling.
"aw, no sweetie. just because i picked you doesn't mean we have to do anything. i know you're not into girls." she gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder. ouch. your heart has now sank completely, and you slowly go to reach for the closet door handle. ellie looks confused, before she panics and grabs your hand.
"where are you going? it hasnt been 7 minutes yet sweetheart," she asks you.
"i was just gonna go back. kinda boring just doing nothing here." you tell her sadly.
"well, what do you want to do?" she still hasn't caught on? at this point, you feel like you will never get another chance again. with your ego still a little boosted that she chose you, you answer her.
"i wanna kiss you, ellie," you tell her. she freezes in the spot she's in before she slowly relaxes and relief washes over her face.
"i wanna kiss you too." she tells you. you look up at her, hope in your eyes, and she slowly grabs yours chin with her fingers and pulls you towards her. your lips meet and you both slowly start to make out. now you know why it was called 7 minutes in heaven. pleasure rushed through your body, and you instantly melted into the kiss. it was the first time you actually felt something when kissing someone, and in the bliss of this new feeling, you now put your arms around her shoulders.
the kiss deepens and turns more sinful as ellies hands now trail down to your ass and give it a light squeeze. you moan into her mouth and she groans back in response. her hands now start exploring your body, covering every inch of you until they make their way down towards your loose jeans. you quickly pull away, feeling like a complete virgin even though this kind of stuff is nothing new to you.
"woah, hey, you okay? we can stop if you want," ellie tells you, scared that she may have gone too far.
"no ellie its not you, its just," you try to find the right words. "i've never actually been with a girl before." you tell her, shame written all over your features. she lightly grabs your face once more as she gives you another passionate kiss.
"im happy to help you through it, and if you ever want me to stop, you just tell me." she explains, leaving light kisses all over you exposed next and chest. you moan out as you give her your permission to continue. her lips find her way back to yours, taking control of the kiss. in between each breath, she made sure to tell you how beautiful you were, and how much she had been dreaming of this. you return the compliments, gasping when ellie now picks you up and leans you down on the closet floor.
now on top, she puts all her weight on her elbow, as the other one trails down from your chest, then your stomach, to finally the place where you needed her the most. still kissing you, her fingers undo your buttons. once your jeans were shoved down, and your panties moved to the side, ellie breaks the kiss.
you whine from the loss of contact, and she shushes you. "is it ok if i touch you?" she asks you politely.
"yes, ellie. please touch me," you beg her. "want you so bad." her lips suddenly reconnect with yours, and her fingers start rubbing light circles on your clit. you moan as she teases you, never feeling this way with any guy you've ever been with.
"you make the prettiest noises," she tells you, nipping at your lips. "fuck, and you're so wet too." her talking alone brings you even closer to your high, another new feeling.
you feel her fingers now trail down and tease your entrance, making the most sinful sound. she bites her lips, then starts pumping two fingers inside of you.
your eyes now roll to the back of your head and ellie falls to your side, the new position allowing her to finger you even faster. your head leans into her shoulder, and tears brim in your eyes from how good shes making you feel.
"faster, please," you beg, now staring into her eyes. the innocent look on your face causes her pussy the clench.
"yeah baby? you want me to go faster?" she teases you. "ill do anything for you beautiful." that was enough to send you over the edge, and you start to shake and she speeds up her motions.
"els" is all you can get out, but she knows exactly what you're trying to say, telling you to let go and cum all over her fingers.
and you're about to, until you hear yelling outside the closest door, and people are banging on your door, telling you seven minutes has passed.
you and ellie groan, and you're about to scream out of frustration, before ellies low voice cuts you off.
"i want you to get dressed and meet me outside my car, we can finish this at me." she tells you, a loving look on her face. you giggle and give her a quick peck, before jumping up and putting on your clothes.
you two come out of the closet, rushing towards the front door, completely ignoring all your friends and strangers random questions flying your way.
"where are they going?"
"are they holding hands?"
"do you think they did anything?"
"they so fucked."
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
✿ a/n: heh, they came out the closet. anyways, like i said, very personalized im sorry i hit my penjamin and im in my feels but i really hope you guys liked it! my requests are still open! love you all so much and don't forget to follow because i post frequently!! <3
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menlove · 6 days ago
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queer paul tome pt 1: everything not related to john
okay i've been saying i'd make this post forever and it's uh. long. so i decided to split it up into four parts so i can get this first bit out and let it stop haunting me and so it's not 50 miles long.
feel free to add your own if it's not here or shoot me an ask and i'll add it :)
disclaimer: i'm not definitively saying sir paul mccartney is queer. i mean i really firmly think he is but it's all just speculation. also, if he is, there's obviously a reason he's not out about it & he deserves to have his privacy respected. i just personally find the dominant narrative in the fandom & even in larger spaces that poor pining queer john was in love with tragically heterosexual paul completely unconvincing and neeeeeed to be insane for a minute here
if this pisses u off u can simply scroll on by i do not need an essay in my notes. make your own post if you disagree.
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(paul doing this for whatever reason in beverly hills, 1974- also the same trip he saw john on bc sure i guess)
this doesn't include lyrics as the main argument bc i saw a post ages ago basically saying there's nothing outside of them and lowkey i took that as a challenge because there's SO much outside of his lyrics that point to him being queer.
that being SAID, this is going to be split into four posts: not john related (most important and thus first bc there's so much documented about mclennon & john being queer, but not paul by himself), john related, paul's relationships w other men (these ones aren't all like... concrete and that's why they aren't included here but w all the context that'll come before it his relationships to certain men are..... interesting), and finally lyrics last bc some of them you genuinely can't just ignore
part 2- john related part 3- other men part 4- lyrics (those will have links once i actually make them)
also, i'm sure people have made similar posts before- i haven't seen them (other than this one an anon sent while i was writing this up which is sooo interesting but does have a lot of dead links) but if you have one you want to share feel free!
time to get into it. i'm avoiding homework by doing this.
(sidenote: not including instances of him just flirting w men bc body language can be read a lot of different ways- but if y'all wanna add any i know they're a dime a dozen like w george m., mal, random reporters, robert fraser, etc)
1- "Just kidding, Linda..."
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REPORTER: You're a very, very good looking man. PAUL: [sits up straighter, making a sort of campy gesture towards the crowd, turning into a point] Get that boy's name. [Drops his hand, smiling and leaning his cheek on his hand.] Just kidding, Linda. REPORTER: [unintelligible] PAUL: What? REPORTER: I said- do you have a secret, looking so nice for fifty years? PAUL: [grins, resting his chin on his hand again and batting his eyelashes] Yes, it's the drugs, you know.
(originally posted on here by @northernsongspeels who hasn't been active in a while) this one is so crazy to me. he's so obviously flirting with that man and he's apologizing to linda for flirting with that man. like it's a conversation they've had before.
2- "Yes, boys."
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this video (originally posted by @ilovedig here)
PAUL: Yes, I think the main difference is that when you are that age- which I'm sure you remember, Tom- TOM: It's back there in the dim distant past, yes. PAUL: When you're that age, that's the kind of thing to do. I mean, what you're doing is you're going 'round and you're basically looking for girls or whatever turns you on and stuff. So, uh, yeah, I- TOM: Well- well could you give me the alternatives to girls? Are there others? LINDA: [scoffs] PAUL: Yes, boys. TOM: Oh! No.
3- "He's so good looking."
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Paul McCartney first read the name and saw the photo (for weeks there was just one crazy photo of Elvis available in Britain) during a free period at Liverpool Institute. Again, it was a friend with the NME, and there was an advert for Heartbreak Hotel. "I thought, 'He's so good looking,'" Paul says, "he just looked perfect." Mark Lewisohn, All These Years Vol. 1 Tune In, sourced from the Anthology TV series by Lewisohn.
4- "A Nice Person Girl"
this fun little interview... (originally posted by @amoralto idk why the archive.org capture of it looks funky but the audio is still there) take it w a grain of salt bc it can also just read as a homophobic joke but like.
August 22nd, 1966 (Warwick Hotel, New York): As DJ “Cousin Brucie” Morrow conducts brief interviews with each of the Beatles, one by one, he asks Paul to settle the rumours that have been circulating in the press about the status of his relationship with Jane Asher. MORROW: Moving over here to Paul – someone just handed me a card. I guess this is… [focusing] Last year, when you were on my microphone here— PAUL: Ask me something about Rick Sklar. MORROW: Rick Sklar? That’s my boss. JOHN: Ask Paul about Rick Sklar. MORROW: Uh, Paul, last year when you were on my microphone, I think somebody – one of your staff – announced an engagement of you and Jane. PAUL: Uh… MORROW: Do you remember that? It was announced on the air. And then I remember we said something on the air and then thousands of people from the street went, “Oh.” What is it with you and Jane now? How – what is your relationship? Are you planning a marriage, planning an engagement, are you just boyfriend and girlfriend, what is it? Tell us the whole thing. JOHN: [mutters; inaudible] PAUL: Uh. We’re just queer, that’s the scene. [uproarious laughter in background] That’s the scene. Well I mean, I couldn’t say that on the air live, you know. JOHN: No, you’ll get into trouble for it. PAUL: No, the thing is, Cousin Bruce – um, we haven’t got plans to marry yet, you know. That’s the point. And that business about somebody saying we were engaged, nobody actually said it. It was just another one of those things where someone says, “Are they engaged?” and they said, “Well, whatever it is… [muttering]” “Yes, folks, they’re engaged!” And it wasn’t true. MORROW: Well, I’m sure there are a lot of girls who are very happy with this. What would you look for, in a girl? Say you did eventually want to settle down, what would you want to – what kind of girl would you like? What would you – what would you like in a gal you wanted to marry eventually, bring home to Mommy? PAUL: Uh… Female hormones. MORROW: Female. What’ll you go for, any – what, blonde, brunette, what? PAUL: Uh, you know, anything. Anything. Girls. It doesn’t matter if they’re blonde, brunette, or anything, as long as they’ve got it. MORROW: Would you want a nice person – what? A beautiful nice person girl. PAUL: Yeah, you know. A nice person girl. (transcription directly from @amoralto, bold mine)
and again this one COULD just be a lil homophobic joke but idk man his tone here is very different and the fact that he says he couldn't say that on air & john says he'll get in trouble is just. interesting. it's Interesting.
5- "A 26 year old queer never to get married."
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Half an hour later it was very quiet, except for a few sobs, and then we decided that we had to see him just once more. We opened the gates and walked slowly in. Someone rang the doorbell. Waited, no one came, rang again. Rang again. Paul answered. We just stood there. God what do we say? "Yes, what do you want?" he said, as if we'd just come to borrow sugar. C. ran out. Someone asked if it was tomorrow, and he said, "Tomorrow." It went quiet again. "What's this - Heartbreak Hotel? What do you think I am a 26 year old queer never to get married? Oh, stick around kids!" We just looked at each other. Oh God, Paul, what have we done now. All we wanted to do was stand there and talk awhile. What was the point in shouting at us like that? We stood there, tears falling but there was no sound. "Apple Scruffs Come to Dinner" by Andrew Bailey, 1970 (x), bold mine
again, like the last one, this one is very... i think he was absolutely being homophobic here, but it's a very telling outburst. like he's yelling this harsh enough to make these girls cry.
6- Harry Harrison's "gorgeous tan"
moving onto this wild quote from many years from now by barry miles about george's older brother (bold mine):
"George Harrison’s elder brother Harry had been to Christmas Island and arrived back with a gorgeous tan in his army uniform and we thought, My God, he’s been made a man of. You used to see this quite regularly, people would be made a man of."
7- gender neutral language
let's get into some interesting gender neutral language he uses. now, would this be Particularly compelling with a modern celebrity? not really. but most people his age really don't talk gender neutrally unless it's to be vague On Purpose. like this bit from many years from now, where before this he'd been using exclusively "girl" and "she/her" pronouns talking about hookups, it suddenly shifts to very purposefully vague (bold mine):
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With a lot of those people I met and related to, albeit for a short time, I've mercifully forgotten them and I don't really remember what went on, thank goodness. There may have been a few drinks involved and I was a little merry and, you know, you slip back to someone's flat... My main feeling really is one of relief. You do feel like some of it was outrageous. But I'm glad to have had a slightly outrageous period in my life, as long as it didn't hurt anybody, because I'd always felt maybe my character was too careful. I think the great thing was I never had any deep, dark secrets. That's what the papers wanted. They wanted me to be hiding a little Miss Whiplash somewhere, and for the flat to be in my name. But it was never that. It was always a one-night stand with whoever was around and wanted to party.
8/9/10- the "binary" (ft. a bit of john)
this infamous quote from the lyrics in his section on "hello goodbye" (bold mine) (x):
I'm attracted to the binary. I state that quite casually, but I think there’s actually a lot more to it than my just saying, ‘I’m attracted to the binary.’ Once you get down to the scientific biological level, in my core, I probably am the binary. All of us are probably more binary than we might realise.
context being that when he says "the binary" he means duality. there's a lot of interesting stuff going on in this article, though there's some more john related stuff i'll add here too bc it's super fascinating (sorry, easier to go here than the john section!):
‘Hello, Goodbye’ shows off a binary that we took great advantage of in The Beatles. With regard to John Lennon and myself, the great attraction we had for each other was that we each had a bit the other didn’t have. John could be quite cynical. I was his opposite, in that respect. [...] I think there definitely was a sort of ‘hello, goodbye’ about John and myself. But we loved it. We loved it because John could contribute his caustic wit and I could contribute something more upbeat. Not always, we each did what the other one did from time to time. But if you had to break it down – and though it is a bit crude to say so – there was a binary tension at the heart of our songwriting together.
11- big guys at the gym
onto something more lighthearted and also just ridiculous (x):
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"If I'm in a gym and all the big guys have got big weights and they're doing all the big stuff, at the end I do a headstand," he said. "And they come over to me [and say], 'That's pretty impressive man.'" ["78-year-old Paul McCartney’s fitness routine includes headstands and yoga with Alec Baldwin" by Cory Stieg]
12- gay dreams
this infamous quote which i have a bit of a different take on that i'll expand on in a sec (bold mine)
My view is that these things are there whether you want them or not, in your interior. You don’t call up dreams, they happen, often the exact opposite of what you want. You can be heterosexual and be having a homosexual dream and wake up, and think, “Shit, am I gay?” I like that you don’t have control over it. But there is some control – it is you dreaming, it is your mind it’s all happening in. In a way my equation would be that my computer is fully loaded by now. Maybe in younger people there’s a little bit of loading to go, but mine’s loaded pretty much, so what I try and do is allow it to print out unbeknown to me. And I’m interested to hear what it’s got in there. (interview by Karen Wright for Luigi's Alcove, 2000) (x)
a lot of people use this to point to him being oblivious, which i do get, but i want to focus more on the line "it is you dreaming, it is your mind it's all happening in". like he seems interested and fascinated by the revelations we have in our dreams- hardly repressed or scared.
13- royston ellis' "break me in easy"
we've all been over the royston ellis poem and i don't want to just retype out everything that's already on this post so go check out @eppysboys' post on the royston ellis poem!
but tl;dr a bisexual friend of theirs in liverpool, royston ellis, wrote this poem called "Break Me In Easy":
Easy, easy, break me in easy. Sure I’m big time, cock-sure and brash, but easy, easy, break me in easy. Sure they’ve been others, I know the way…
which is about gay sex. he also told the boys that 1 in every 5 men was gay and paul worried that it might be him (this was back in 1960). he still remembered it line for line by 2006 which is just insane. all the sources for those are over on the linked post.
14- woody pecker
originally posted by @didwemeetsomewherebefore here (links to my blog bc the wayback machine was not cooperating right but as long as it stays up you can find the original here!)
PAUL & DONOVAN: How to suck a lollypopper, Sitting on a woodypecker, Dancing in the double-decker shoe, I don’t know, So, how do you do? PAUL: I don't know how you do it, Lordy, knows I try But every time I try to do it, My whole darn tongue gets ti(r)ed
this one is just so sillyyyyy and cute but it's just so full of innuendo like sucking on a lollypop and sitting on a woody pecker and your tongue getting tied (tired?) when you try to suck the uh lollypop. giggling his way through it with one of his boy best friends donovan too.
15- "i heard he was gay"
this fun little quote from body count by francie schwartz:
When the rotation of bike, gun, and other diversions left me alone with Billy, his first words were, "You went with Paul McCartney, didn’t you?" "I bet you just love it when people ask you about your father, don't you?" He was surprised, he half-frowned. "No, really, what's Paul like? I heard he was gay." "He might have gone that way, but he didn't. He really didn't dig fucking all that much, if that's any kind of an answer."
note here though that francie is a notoriously unreliable source on paul. she hates him and honestly makes some pretty homophobic digs at him & others pretty frequently. so it is interesting that she denies he's gay, but says he might have gone that way. given how short of a time they were together and how weird their relationship was, i wouldn't really expect him to be open about that with her- still, she noticed something there too.
16- homosexual handbook
paul was mentioned in the homosexual handbook by angelo d'arcangelo in 1968 under a list of famous homosexuals. it's very tongue in cheek and says this "may just be wishful thinking on (my) part"
and obviously not proof as the book takes a very playful and unserious tone. he does provide this little disclaimer though, which i think is interesting:
Some of the men on this list are self-acknowledged homosexuals. Some are not. All of them are generally thought to be gay. However, as many family men and notorious womanizers appear on these pages, we must—rather than question their forays into either or both sexes—congratulate them on their obvious virility.
because once again like... WHERE are these rumors about paul being gay? because the rest of this list, as far as i can tell (ngl i did not do a deep read there) are men who have/had gay rumors about them or were gay. this comes up more in the john post as well, but i seriously need to know just how many rumors there were about him being gay.
17- "the female hordes"
It was always obvious Brian was gay and we could talk to him about gay things, but he would never come out with, 'Hello, Paul, you’re looking nice today.' I was quite obviously un-gay, due to my hunting of the female hordes, and I think we all must have given the same impression. There had been a suggestion since that John had some homosexual thing with Brian, but I personally doubt it. All the intimate moments we shared were always about girls. (from Anthology)
i know putting one of his "un-gay" quotes here is counter intuitive but listen i have genuinely never heard a gayer thing come out of a man's mouth than "hunting of the female hordes" it sends me to fucking mars every time i read it. that's the most closeted shit i've ever read in my entire life. it sounds like what a gay man would say trying to come up with something a straight man would say. and i think paul's bi, he just desperately wants me to think he's never gotten pussy a day in his damn life with this quote.
as a side-note, "all the intimate moments we shared were always about girls". now what do you mean by that man..... like shared as in verbally told stories? or do you mean it was always about the girls when you guys were...... intimate? because those are two really different things and i need to know what the hell that's supposed to mean
18/19- this poor man just wants to flirt with and kiss men can we let him
okay tumblr has nerfed me and won't let me add any more videos from tumblr but there's a video of drunk paul almost kissing ringo jokingly. posted by @stewy here and as long as it's up you can reblog it here- thank u for the contribution to my red stringing lmfao
pringo for once thank god but. i don't even have anything to say except to point and think of a slur. drunk as hell flirting with your best friend what's better than that.
and then this whole interaction between paul & elton john where they kiss on the mouth
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and i could so buy that this is a straight man and gay man just being comfortable together except well see above and see the other posts but also paul's very much adapting a softer, "campier" tone around him and calling him babe/darling in a very, again, gay way. not as in he's gay For elton john lmfao but this is how to old gay friends would greet each other do you see what i mean do you understand me......
anyway that's the end of part 1 join me next time (whenever the fuck i decide to avoid doing homework again um) this man has sucked a dick i'm so sure of this. (not really don't sue me for libel paul love ya)
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misshugs · 10 months ago
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The elevator game || Colby Brock x Reader
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[req by anon] You knew you were sensitive to the other side, but you didn't expect a silly little game from the internet to give you this much of an impact.
warnings: cursing, paranormal activity, reader getting (slightly) attacked by ghosts, sensitive/medium!reader, degrading, angst? still not sure what the meaning of it is tbh
a/n: this is my first request ever, i hope i didn't let you down dear anon. Concept based on this video
word count: 2.5k (not proofread)
[u n e d i t e d]
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby!" Colby screamed towards the camera, as always.
"Today we are here at the Driskill Hotel, also known as the most haunted hotel here in Texas." Sam continues.
"We're here to figure out why this place is so haunted and what message the ghosts here wanna tell the people. And for this video guys, we have a very special someone!" Colby says, moving to the side so that you're visible to the camera.
Waving at it and smiling, you were greeted by Colby's hands wrapped around your shoulders. "Thank you, thank you. Hello, dear people. It is I." They laugh.
"How are you feeling about this? Are you excited?" Sam asks, putting the camera on the both of you.
"I am! The place is HUGE and honestly, just looks so good!"
"Right?? When we got in it was just like a burst of shock at how gorgeous this place is." Sam said and Colby nodded.
"If it weren't haunted I'd probably come here more often, but I can already feel all of these... energies walking around, I wouldn't last too long."
"Oh, right. For anybody that doesn't know, Y/n is actually a bit of medium?" Colby asks while looking at you, making you nod. "Yeah, so she's sensitive to like the energy of shadow figures and things like that, so maybe we'll get to experience something interesting tonight!"
"I'd say hopefully not but that wouldn't make it fun I guess." You laugh and so do they while you explain it is a pain in the ass to feel those things constantly. "It is almost as if you're constantly paranoid about someone looking at you, y'know what I mean?"
"Oh yeah, for sure." Colby noded.
"Yeah so that, but those stares are more physical than anything, there are times where I can feel people walking behind me and when I look back, there's no one."
"I can just imagine how creepy that must feel." Sam said and you chuckled.
"Oh yeah. You have no idea." You smiled.
"Well then, shall we begin the investigation?" Colby asked you, smiling. You quickly smiled back.
"Of course." You kissed him softly before Sam could even turn off the camera.
"Oh, gross man. I'll have to edit that out." He said jokingly and you laughed, rolling your eyes.
"But seriously though, let's keep it moving." You said and they agreed.
Walking around, there were a few pieces of lore they had to explain to you beforehand. About the one and only Driskill who created the hotel, about the little girl that broke her neck, so on and so forth.
There were times when you had this eerie feeling of constantly being followed, so you kept your arms interlocked with Colby's.
"You're doing okay so far?" He asked, cautiously caressing your hand. You nodded.
"Yeah, just feel like we're being followed." You replied, looking back where there was no one there.
"Really??" Sam asked, looking back as well but seeing nothing. "Do you think we caught a ghost's interest?"
"I mean, probably. There is a difference in between someone that's coming just for the hotel part and us, that are investigating and directly needing their intervention. We're making them curious."
"Well, for whatever spirit that might be following us, you're welcome to answer our questions later on tonight." Colby said loud enough for anything around to listen to it.
Honestly, even those small gestures made you so madly in love with him. The way he touches you softly just for you to make sure you're not alone and he's here for you is such a warming feeling.
Wilst looking around the current room, Colby walked up to a random closed door and tried to walk through.
"She said no closed doors!" Sam exclaimed, probably talking about the tour guide's rules of the place.
"Unless it's... unlocked." Colby responded, making Sam roll his eyes.
"Oop, it's Jim Hogg's room." You said, looking up.
"Who's that?" Sam asked.
"I dunno, it says its name on the top." You point up and they just laughed at the comment. I mean, what were they expecting? You had no idea about whatever story roams around these halls asides from the two main ones they've explained.
"Also I don't think you should be trying even more, like if it's hard to go in it's probably because you're not supposed to."
"We have a bad reputation of breaking into places." Sam admitted and you smiled.
"Yeah, I know. I remember that." You chuckle and hold Colby's hand to pull away from the door.
As they kept on chatting and making interesting comments here and there, you found the elevator and pointed it out. "Oh, is this the one?" Colby asked Sam and he just gave him a stare.
"This is the one what?" You ask and they look at eachother.
Sam sighed. "We were going to keep it until the time came, but we may have a little challenge for tonight that has to do with the elevator."
"Ooooh sounds fun. I wanna do it." You smile.
"You sure?? You have to be by yourself." Colby asked, worried but amused.
"Do you think I can't do this, Mr. Brock? That's offensive." You spat, crossing your hands around your chest.
"No! I meant-" He tried to explain, but you quickly interrupted.
"Cancelled, I tell you. Cancelled!" You look away with your eyes closed, trying not to laugh at the stupid situation unfolding.
"Great." You heard him sigh in defeat as Sam started laughing at the both of you. Looking back with a smile on your face, you hugged him.
"Alright, let's get going already." You giggled, gaining a kiss on the top of your head from your boyfriend.
Walking inside the elevator, it almost felt as if it quickly went down in an unnatural way.
"Did you guys feel like... the elevator dropping three inches?"
"Yeah, kinda of." Sam said.
"Three inches is a lot." Colby replied.
"Three inches is huge." Sam continued.
"I can vouch." You said.
"Mass..." Colby began talking but couldn't hold in the laugh after you said that.
Going back to the main lobby, you all reached out to a girl that was apparently the tourguide. She quickly explained the story of the place, how it ended up being the renouned hotel it came to be.
When she explained that the smell of cigar was one of the main ways Driskill manifested, your eyes went wide. "You're kidding."
"No, did you smell it before?" She asked.
"I did! But it was like, close to the entrance so I thought that maybe someone was smoking. I did find it rare because it was just a glimpse of it for like a solid second and then gone." You explained, making the girl smile.
"Well, that was him."
"No way." Colby said, smiling at you.
"Yup." She nodded, continuing to explain as you all started walking back to the elevator. Going inside, the door closed only to be opened again. "Oh?"
"Did we just pressed five and went to one? It's haunted!" Sam exclaimed.
"That was weird." Colby said, looking at the door.
"It was, that was so weird." The guide said, trying to close the door once again, only for it to open again.
"Does it do that often?" You asked and she shook her head.
"No! It doesn't." She walked back out and talked to someone from out side. "Are you fucking with us?"
"That's so strange- oh, I hit it." You whispered. The guide came back in.
"But you see it, right? I'm pressing five and it like start to go up but then it stops." The door closes once again, only for them to open.
"Oh my god." Sam said, whispering.
"And we're doing a challenge here?" You asked confused, making them laugh.
"Not here exactly." Colby smiled.
"Lemme- I'll go out." You said, walking out of the elevator, watching as the doors began to close, only for them to open once again. "Oh no, that's- that's a malfunction alright."
"And you said it, these malfuction all the time." Colby said to the guide as they walked out of the elevator.
When Sam did it by himself, it started working all over again.
"What the fuck??" Colby yelled.
"Are we like fat? Is it fat shaming us?" You whined, making everyone laugh.
And so, even though your night barely started, you were already having some activity to say the least.
And it kept being that way all night. Constant responses from spirits, intelligent ones at that. The little girl, the woman from the vortex room... all the way down to the challenge you've been anticipating the whole night round.
The elevator challenge.
"I think it might be just me but every single time we pass through this side of the hotel I feel like actually throwing up."
"Wait, really?" Colby asked, worried.
"Like an eerie feeling more than anything, almost like I'm kinda feeling a bit dizzy whenever we pass through here."
"Are you sure you want to do this? You can still back out, or I could go in with you." Colby tried to make you change your mind, but you were settled in it.
"No, I have to do it alone. What if it doesn't work because we're together? You're not gonna let me do this right?"
"I do! I'm just worried." Colby admitted, making you smile.
"You cutie. I love you so much." You said, smiling at him and cupping his face before giving him a quick peck on the lips.
"Y'all are gonna make me puke, another part I'm gonna have to cut out." Sam joked, making you giggle.
"Alright, alright. So, how does this work?" You ask, hugging yourself as you wait for instructions.
It was a simple game. Supposedly, you had to hit the buttons of the elevator in a specific order. In the last one, you had to invite in a lady. If the ritual worked, you were supposed to start going up into another world. If it didn't, well, nothing happened and it failed.
"So... I'm about to get isekai'd? We're going to an anime, brothers." You laughed at your own joke while they handed you your camera.
"I send you the order, just in case." Sam continued, and you nodded.
"Thank you, 'cause I already forgot." You turned on your phone as well as the camera and walked in.
"Any last words?" Colby asked cheekishly, making you smile.
"See you in the other side." You answered, before the door closed. You sighed, putting the camera up to your face. "Alright, so... I'm supposed to hit this one first." Switching the camera back to the buttons, you hit the number four.
It began moving. "Oh, good. It would've been a mess if it already fucked up. Alright..." You sighed. "I didn't told them this, but I do find the thought of getting stuck in an elevator horrifying. I just agreed because maybe it might help me out, but it doesn't work the fact that I can feel so many spirits around this area specifically every time we walk past it." You explain before getting on the next floor, touching the next button.
Back down on the lobby, Sam and Colby were talking.
"I didn't want her to do it, honestly. I was gonna do it myself." Sam said.
"Right? She's our guest too, what if something happens to her? That would be the death of me."
"Don't jinx it, brother. She'll be alright."
Boy they were wrong.
Halfway through, your vision started to get blurry, your legs were shaky and you couldn't brush off the feeling of pressure on your chest. It was starting to make you nervous, even more so the fact you were alone.
You started thinking to yourself. What if something really did happen? What if you summon something your body couldn't handle? What if it really did send you to another world?
It happened so quickly, that you have already reached the last floor before you knew it. Gulping down your dry throat, you began to speak. "Alright, if there's something... out... oh fuck." Your vision got blurry and you could feel an inmense ammout of power flushing through the elevator doors even before it opened up.
You couldn't hold it together, it was too much for you to handle as you were suspecting before. Although you tried to stay up, your legs couldn't hold your weight up anymore and you passed out, falling down to the floor, hitting your head strongly onto the hard floor of the elevator.
Luckily, the ritual didn't work. It began going down and the guys, mainly Colby, were anxiously waiting for the doors to open. When they did, their faces fell.
Colby screamed out your name, quickly rushing in and holding your head. "Love?? Sweetheart, what happened? Wake up, please. Oh God." He began shaking, carrying you outside of the elevator so that it was slightly more comfortable.
"What happened? Oh my fucking God." Sam whispered, grabbing your camera from the elevator's floor and walking out.
"She's not responding, Sam." Colby nervously said, making sure you were at least still alive.
You were.
"Should I call an ambulance or something?" Sam asked. "Oh, no. I have the keys with me."
"Let's take her to the hospital, quickly." He lifted you up from the floor and hurriedly got out of the building and to the hospital.
You were alright, luckily. It seemes you have just fainted, but you falling down to the floor and hitting your head so hard made it a bit more complicated than what it had to be.
Colby felt bad, horrible even to think that this could've happened to you.
He should've been more careful, he should've known you were too sensitive to all of these energies so that you would go alone and out to make something so nerve racking. He should've been more insisting, rather than going with the flow merely because of a video.
He let his love have that type of experience because of a mere video.
It devastared him. Made him feel absolutely awful about it. While waiting for you to wake up, he kept on downgrading himself thinking about how he's the worst possible boyfriend.
It all stops when you finally wake up. Looking around the white room, confused.
"What happened?"
"It looks like you fainted... I'm so sorry for letting you do that all by yourself, I should've stopped you, I should've at least gone with you, I'm so sorry that you had to go through that because-"
"Love. Love!" You held his cheeks softly, making him quietly stop ranting, you smiled. "You know I wanted to do it, I was the stupid one for forgetting that big energy rafts can affect me a lot, I'm so sorry baby." You kissed his nose, reassuring him everything was alright.
And honestly, he needed to hear it. From you, specifically. Sam was trying to make him calm down but it didn't really work. It had to be you, your voice, your smile.
The one thing that made him whole all over again.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
I MAY HAVE DONE TOO MUCH FILLER FOR NO GODDAMN REASON- also hoping that dear anon liked it-
thank you for reading, loves~! likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
~nikkõ
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