Omg so do you think Yuuri kissed Victor first??? What’s your HC
It’s dark in the corridor.
The wood beneath Victor’s bare feet is warm from the heat of the springs, his hand slick against the bamboo panels. Steam beads there, pebbled and orange from the lantern glow. Between the heat from the water and the linen of the jinbei, Victor’s skin is sticky and everything feels blurred together. Only it’s not the humid air that’s caught Victor’s breath in this moment.
Victor isn’t sure how it started. Isn’t sure what he said, or what he looked like, for Yuuri to turn his head like that. For Yuuri to stop Victor’s babbling with a soft finger to Victor’s lips, his own jinbei wrapped too tight to ever fall like Victor’s does. Isn’t sure what made Yuuri’s eyes, dark and amber like glass, or pebbles, catch the red lantern light like fish. Victor had watched it there, entranced, in that brief moment before Yuuri pushed up on his toes, his lips meeting Victor’s in a hot press.
Victor had frozen- is frozen. Yuuri’s hand slips along Victor’s neck, holds Victor steady as he grows bolder. His lips push more insistently and the wall Victor built for himself cracks, right down the middle. The debris sticks in his lungs, punctures a hole in Victor’s heart so he feels winded. Scared, so very scared, Victor parts his lips and his heart takes water, drowning as Yuuri opens his in kind.
The feeling of Yuuri’s tongue touching against his lower lip bolts through Victor like a bad fall. Victor panics. Can’t help it- Victor’s wanted for so long and now… now it’s happening and Victor doesn’t understand why. Yuuri has been no different, he’s shown none of his cards and Victor’s left dealing blind and, and, and-
‘Oh,’ Yuuri sighs softly, sounding dazed and looking sinful with his eyes half-shut like that. Victor pulls back, almost loses his balance as his hand slips along the wall in the slick that gathers there. Outside, Victor can hear the springs splashing on the rocks. The cuckoo’s call, wavering and high pitched through the door behind them.
Victor looks at Yuuri in the dark, the pooled shadows of his face. His body, bent to defend like it always is with one hand over his own chest. Palm against his heart. The other is on Victor’s neck, arm stretched across the distance Victor puts between them. Victor needs this distance, needs to understand exactly what Yuuri is doing because Victor can’t throw himself off this cliff until he knows there’s water waiting for him below.
Yuuri opens his eyes, looks unfocused for a moment and Victor thinks of Yuuri’s glasses, left with their clothes in the changing room. Then Yuuri licks his lips and it’s the most erotic thing Victor has ever seen, blowing heat into his stomach and the want in Victor’s veins threatens to bleed. Yuuri looks thoughtful, his hand moving up Victor’s neck.
‘I used to think that was something I always to do,’ Yuuri said, his finger tracing a line through the steam on Victor’s face. Like warpaint, up the curve of Victor’s jaw, his lips. Yuuri leaves his fingerprints there in the moisture. ‘Kiss you, I mean. But to be honest, I think I only really knew I wanted it the moment I realised I wanted you.’
‘I…’ Victor doesn’t know what to say. He is completely surprised and doesn’t know where to put it. Yuuri blinks up at him, mouth open for a moment before he swallows whatever he was going to say. Clearly, Yuuri sees something Victor isn’t sure how to admit, because his dark features narrow with understanding. His eyebrows apologise, his nose comforts. Victor wants to touch every one, every hair and line of Yuuri’s face and leave his fingerprints there, too.
‘I know,’ Yuuri says quietly. His voice is a weight on Victor’s chest, like the stones outside. ‘I’m sorry, I should’ve waited.’
Yuuri retreats and Victor watches, silent but screaming. Yuuri’s hand is gone, his arm bends. Closing doors Victor wishes he knew how to open all the way, instead of just skirting the light that blows under them. Victor steps forward, mortified by his own stall, but Yuuri is looking at him with that same expression he wears when Victor tells him to focus in training. Like Victor is the point of a needle and Yuuri intends to thread himself until everything comes together.
Victor wishes they would come together.
Victor reaches out, afraid suddenly, but Yuuri smiles and that stops him. Yuuri’s smile always does that.
‘Next time,’ Yuuri says, whispering almost. Like this is something the walls might gossip for them. Victor holds his breath, holds his hope with one hand for balance. “Next time, you’ll kiss me. And then we’ll know.’
With that, Yuuri turns and starts to walk back to the changing room. His feet pad, the corridor swallows him whole in the dark and Victor stands, frozen between Yuuri and where Yuuri left him. Next time, is all Victor can think of. There will be a next time, Victor vows. Because Victor already knows.
Pheromones fill the room, the scent of an alpha and omega mating.
“Fuck!” you shriek as Hoseok goes so much deeper from the angle. Your ass and pussy were on display with your entire upper body pushed down, your ass in the air. Hoseok was behind you, kneeling, his pace fast and unrelenting.
You swear you can feel his cock all the way up to your throat.
“That’s it, baby,” he groans. “Squeeze my cock like the omega in heat you are. I want to feel you trying to milk me dry.”
Your pussy gushes at his very words, and you feel him trace your innermost skin before pressing down on your clit and rubbing the hardened nub in circular motions. You writhe, desperately pushing back against his dick. He slaps your ass in response.
“Yeah? You like being a little slut for me, don’t you? You like knowing everything I’m giving is for you only. Baby, no one could ever compare to this sweet little cunt of yours. Nobody. The same way I’m the only one who can give you cock.”
You moan in agreement.
“Do you like it when I do this?” He pinches your clit, causing a shriek to rise up in your throat melt into a groan. “Of course you do. Do you want me to make you cum?”
“Y-y-yes!” You cry out, clawing at the sheets.
“What was that?” he hisses at you, stopping all movements. His cock was still in you, and you try to slam yourself back on it only to be spanked again, this time much harder. Tears well up in your eyes, and drool slides out from the sides of your mouth.
“Please, please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease,” you babble incoherently. “Please, daddy, please make me cum.”
Usually he would deny you of your orgasm if you hadn’t been polite – but with you in heat, your scent filling the room, your pussy clamping down around him, you knew you had him cornered.
“You’re such a bad girl,” he says, and moves his hips slowly, lazily. The tears begin to fall from your eyes. This was the worst kind of fucking he could give you: slow enough that eventually you wouldn’t be able to take anymore. His thrusts were slow but deep, hitting all of the right spots within you but with torturous speed.
His fingers, which had stilled on your clit, suddenly press down on the swollen nub, hard. You cry out in response, your back arching and making you feel the swell of his cock pushing against your walls.
“Please, daddy,” you gasp out. “Please, please, please. I’m - I’m a little slut who deserves to be punished, but please make me cum. I want your seed inside of me.”
You hear a sharp intake of breath, and that’s when it happens:
You get fucked like you deserve.
His hands reach up to grasp your waist, pulling your ass flush against him and stretching you out to the max. He stills for a moment, cock completely within you, before he pulls out so just the tip was outside your body. And then he dives in once against, his thrusts not only deep but quick.
He slams into you over and over, before grabbing your leg and pulling it outwards. You feel your pussy lips widen, and could feel cold air against your core. You positively scream, all while finally being fucked like you wanted the entire night.
“God, you feel like heaven,” he cries out. You could practically see his eyes rolling into the back of his head, despite facing away from him. “You know exactly what to say to get daddy to fuck you the way you want, don’t you? All you have to do is cry those pretty little tears and beg to cum, and you know,” thrust “that I’m going to fuck you like you deserve.”
His balls slap your clit repeatedly with his fast strokes, and it finally happens.
“Ohmygod,” you choke out. “Daddy, I’m going to cum please please please fill me up. I want you to cum in me please daddy -”
He howls at this, before reaching down to rub your clit one more time, the stroke of his hips against your ass slowing. You grab at the sheets, and when he pinches your clit, you see white.
Galaxies burst in front of your eyes, and scream after scream tears its way out of your throat. You fill Hoseok still inside of you, before your walls are clamping down on him. You feel him cum, his cock pulsating in you. The warmth of his cum fills you, and you cry out.
Soooooo as I think writing romance is super difficult, this snippet isnt very romantic - but it’s the beginning of something that will grow from banter and stubborn distance to become something else. This is the first scene in the book that shows these two characters interacting. They keep meeting each other while breaking and entering and often pursuing the same objective and they don’t know each other very well just yet. I skipped day 1 of the @originalficfest (for now) but you can read a short character intro here.
Rokke threw his arms up just in time, clawing his fingers into the rain gutter before his body could completely slip from the roof. For a second he just dangled there, heartbeat pounding in his ears and a pulsing sting on the side of his neck. Blood seeped through his jacket, warm and sticky. Carefully, Rokke moved hand over hand along the metal, before slowly letting himself fall onto the empty balcony below. He landed in a crouch and the impact rattled his bones.
More pain. “Shit.” Rokke cursed and pulled at the collar of his jacket. The bullet had grazed his neck. He pressed a hand to the wound, trying to stem the blood flow.
“Shit,” he whispered again, his heart hammering in his chest. What now? He couldn’t stay here – the man had shot at him, he couldn’t stay here; what if he decided to follow and make sure –
Steps. Too late.
Nero loomed over him, face dark but framed by the dull shine of a streetlight. “Wow, fuck. You alright?”
Boiling with rage, hand still pressed to his neck, Rokke pulled his legs closer to his body. “Oh yeah,” he hissed. “I feel fantastic. My neck is ripped to shreds and I’m gonna bleed out like a pig but other than that I’m doing swell.”
He flinched when Nero stepped closer, but there was no way to escape. Slowly, as if not to scare him, Nero crouched down next to him. It only served to piss Rokke off more. “Show me?”
Rokke sent him a poisonous glare but lowered the hand from his neck – being about to kick the bucket had to be messing with his ability to judge.
Nero squinted and leaned closer. Light from his watch faintly shone through the dark.
Nero started laughing and Rokke rammed his foot into Nero’s chest, hard. “What’s so funny, huh?” Sadly, the kick didn’t seem to bother Nero at all. Asshole.
Nero lifted one eyebrow in amusement and grinned. “You were incredibly lucky, the bullet barely grazed you. Bleeds a bit, but you won’t die today.” He started rummaging in the pockets of his godawful coat, taking out a pack of cigarettes and a ratty old comic book until he had a small, dark scarf in his hands. Faster than Rokke could duck, Nero had leaned in and pushed the cloth against the gash on his neck. Rokke flinched again, instinctively tried to evade the pain, but Nero held firm. “Be a good little patient and hold still.”
“Outch”, Rokke snarled.
Nero just shrugged. “I’m not a doctor and I don’t have any gauze on me, but if we go…”
“We are not going anywhere.”
“You’d rather keep holding a shabby old scarf to this than let me get you something to disinfect and bandage this?”
“I can handle this on my own.”
Nero snorted. “I can see that.”
“Fuck you!” Rokke ground his teeth. “Everything was going well until you showed up! Now I have to go back in to get the damn thing; the objective –”
“To get what?” From the depths of his coat, Nero conjured a small grey box. “This?”
Rokke lunged at it, but Nero was faster and quickly held the box out of reach. „Nuh uh. I got it first, so it’s mine.“
„I cracked the safe!”
“And you did a marvelous job with that,” Nero praised and Rokkes entire being longed to sock him in the face. “But there’s someone who’s willing to pay a lot of money for this, and that money will be mine.”
“If you hadn’t made that much noise, the owner would never have woken up! He’d never noticed me otherwise!”
“You distracted him very well.”
Rokke stared at him, full of disdain. Nero smirked. Time to switch tactics.
“I got shot because of you,” Rokke said and Neros grin slipped a bit. Rokke held out his hand. “You owe me.”
Contemplating, Nero stared at his outstretched hand. And shrugged. “Nope, sorry. I’ll make it up to you some other time, I promise.“
“Your promise isn’t worth shit.”
“That’s your problem then, isn’t it?” Nero got up and checked his watch. “It’s getting late and I got to go. You sure you’ll be okay on your own?”
Rokke hoped the contempt in his eyes was answer enough. Despite his words, Nero waited until Rokke had gotten up safely. He peeked down over the balcony’s railing. “The ground isn’t too far down from here,” Nero said, indicating with his hands that Rokke should follow him.
Gerade noch rechtzeitig riss Rokke die Hände hoch und krallte die Finger in die Regenrinne, bevor sein Körper gänzlich vom Dach rutschen konnte. Einen Augenblick lang hing er da, den rasenden Herzschlag dröhnend in den Ohren und ein pulsierendes Brennen seitlich am Hals. Blut sickerte unter seine Jacke, warm und klebrig. Vorsichtig hangelte Rokke sich einige Griffe zur Seite, dann lies er sich langsam auf den leeren Balkon unter ihm fallen. Er landete in der Hocke, doch der Aufprall ging ihm dennoch bis in die Knochen.
Mehr Schmerz. „Scheiße“, fluchte Rokke und zog den Kragen seiner Lederjacke zurück. Die Kugel hatte seinen Hals seitlich gestreift. Er presste seine Hand auf die Wunde, versuchte den Blutstrom zu stillen.
„Scheiße.“ Sein Herz hämmerte. Was nun? Er konnte hier nicht bleiben, der Mann hatte auf ihn geschossen; was wenn er herauskam, um es zu beenden? Doch wohin sollte er fliehen?
Schritte. Zu spät.
Nero lehnte über ihm, dunkel und umrahmt vom dumpfen Licht einer Straßenlaterne. „Wow fuck. Alles okay?“
Wutentbrannt, eine Hand noch immer gegen die Wunde gepresst, zog Rokke die Knie an.
„Oh, ja, absolut fantastisch“, fauchte er. „Mein halber Hals liegt in Fetzen und ich blute aus wie ein verdammtes Schwein, aber sonst geht’s mir super.“ Er zuckte zusammen, als Nero nähertrat, aber er konnte sich nicht weiter zurückziehen. Langsam, wie um ihn nicht zu erschrecken, ging Nero in die Hocke. Es machte Rokke nur noch wütender. „Zeig mal her?“
Rokke schenkte ihm einen langen, giftigen Blick, aber ließ die Hand sinken – im Sterben zu liegen trübte wohl seine Urteilsfähigkeit.
Nero kniff die Augen zusammen und lehnte sich vor; das Displaylicht seiner Uhr erhellte geringfügig die Dunkelheit.
Nero lachte leise und Rokke trat ihm mit dem Stiefel hart gegen die Brust. „Was ist so lustig, hm?“ Der Tritt schien ihn nicht im Geringsten zu stören, den Arsch.
Belustigt zog Nero eine Augenbraue hoch und grinste. „Du hattest unglaubliches Glück, die Kugel hat dich kaum gestreift. Etwas Blut aber nicht tief. Heute stirbst du nicht.“ Er begann in den Innentaschen seines affigen Mantels herumzukramen und beförderte dabei eine Packung Zigaretten und ein abgegriffenes Comicheft zutage, bis er ein kleines, dunkles Tuch in den Händen hielt. Bevor Rokke sich ducken konnte, beugte Nero sich vor und presste den Stoff fest gegen die Wunde an seinem Hals. Rokke zuckte erneut, versuchte instinktiv vor dem Schmerz zurückzuweichen, doch Nero blieb unbarmherzig. „Sei ein braver Patient, und halt still.“
„Autsch“, fauchte Rokke.
Nero zuckte nur mit den Schultern. „Ich bin leider kein Arzt und habe keinen Verband dabei, aber wenn wir…“
„Wirgehen nirgendwo hin.“
„Du willst dir lieber weiter ein ranziges altes Halstuch gegen die Wunde drücken, als dir von mir Desinfektionsmittel und einen Verband besorgen zu lassen?“
„Ich komme alleine klar.“
Nero schnaubte amüsiert. „Das sehe ich.“
„Fick dich!“ Rokke knirschte mit den Zähnen. „Alles lief blendend, bevor du aufgetaucht bist.“
„Jetzt muss ich da wieder rein um das dumme Ding zu holen, der Auftrag-“
„Um was zu holen?“ Nero zauberte ein kleines graues Kästchen aus seinem Mantel hervor. „Das hier?“
Rokke griff danach, doch Nero war schneller und hielt es rasch außer Reichweite. „Nix da. Ich hatte es zuerst, deswegen ist es meins.“
„Ich habe es aus dem Tresor geholt!“
„Ja und das hast du ganz fabelhaft gemacht“, lobte Nero und alles in Rokke schrie danach, ihn ins Gesicht zu schlagen. „Aber es gibt jemanden, der hierfür sehr viel Geld bezahlt, und dieses Geld geht leider an mich.“
„Hättest du nicht so viel Krach gemacht, wäre der Besitzer niemals aufgewacht! Er hätte mich nie entdeckt!“
„Du warst eine sehr gute Ablenkung.“
Voller Groll starrte Rokke Nero an. Nero grinste noch immer. Zeit für Plan B.
„Du bist schuld, dass ich verletzt wurde“, sagte Rokke und Neros Lächeln verrutschte. Rokke streckte fordernd eine Hand aus. „Du schuldest mir etwas.“
Plötzlich nachdenklich starrte Nero auf Rokkes Handfläche. Dann zuckte er mit den Schultern. „Geht nicht. Tut mir Leid.“ Er richtete sich auf. „Ich mach’s wann anders wieder gut. Ehrenwort.“
„Ich pfeif auf dein Ehrenwort.“
„Das ist dein Problem, und nicht meins, oder?“ Nero warf einen Blick auf seine Uhr. „Es wird spät, ich muss los. Du bist sicher, dass du zurechtkommst?“
Rokkes hoffte, dass das Gift in seinem Blick für ihn sprach. Trotz seiner Worte wartete Nero, bis Rokke halbwegs sicher aufgestanden war. Nero warf einen prüfenden Blick über die Balustrade hinunter. „Hier drüben ist es nicht tief“, sagte er und winkte Rokke zu sich.
to the boys that make everyday a little bit brighter: it always seems like it’s not enough, but i have nothing more to say but thank you from the bottom of my heart, for every single thing. let’s hope for even better years to come and let’s not forget that “whatever happens just like always, we’ll be together”. Happy 3rd year anniversary Seventeen!
Request: “You know Friends the tv show? Well how about this. A Sweet Pea imagine where the reader and him have a secret relationship and one day he gets up to leave and forgets that they aren’t alone and kisses her. But everyone is like THE DITTLY FUCK WAS THAT. So he proceeds to kiss everyone.”
Author’s Note: Thanks for the person who requested and @arielle-mari for ideas! This is like my favorite scene in all of Friends, so I hope you enjoy it!
You rested your head on the dingy couch and took another sip of your beer. It was starting to get late, and it was a school night, but none of you wanted to leave the Whyte Wyrm yet. A bunch of kids had just been initiated, and everyone was having too good of a time. You were sitting on the couch next to Sweet Pea, a careful few inches of space between you. Ever since you’d started dating, you’d both been hyper-aware of your behavior when you were together. The last thing you needed was for everyone to know, especially after Toni had made everyone swear off friend-group dating after a particularly awkward game of truth or dare.
You hadn’t tried to get together—it just kind of happened. The two of you had been friends since you were kindergarten together that Southside Elementary, so when the River Vixen he’d been enamored with broke his heart at the beginning of senior year, you were there for him. A few late-night Pop’s trips later, you found yourself making out in the parking lot behind the diner. It was exhilarating until you remembered that you had all sworn not to date.
“I still hear my phone buzz and pick it up at 2am with that small bit of hope left in me thinking that it’s you, telling me that you miss me, that you’re sorry, and that everything is going to be okay again,”
[08.04.18] “I will never forget. I will make you happy like the ‘we are one’ word I’ve told you. Although it might be hard and tiring, I will go up on the stage again. once again, I will encourage myself to do it. For you who have been waiting for me, I will hug you and hold your hands. If I am able to express my heart, I will devote myself to you.” – Promise