belated birthday ficlet for @nicaforov, who requested “i want to kiss you” for kic-verse viktuuri :) hope u like it i lov u long time!!!
There are several things Victor could have said.
He could have said, “That color suits you.”
Or perhaps something that makes conversation, something like, “Nice, what will you wear with that?”
Or maybe even just, “You look really good, wow, amazing,” and he could have left it at that.
Victor has several options here, but the one he chooses is apparently the big red button in the corner of his mind labelled ‘DO NOT TOUCH—PRESS FOR REGRETS’ because here he is, reaching up to skim the back of his knuckle against the freshly applied lipstick on Yuuri’s mouth and blurting out,
“I want to kiss you.”
Yuuri freezes. Victor’s mind short-circuits.
(From the corner of his eye, he can see a pair of interns entering the HMC closet and then immediately exiting when the words leave his mouth.)
No one moves for so long that the motion detector sensors prompt the lights to turn off, plunging them in darkness and surrounding them in shapeless racks of clothing.
And that’s, well. That does it for Victor. His hand jerks erratically, flying to the scarf around his neck as if to readjust it, as if it weren’t hanging perfectly already. The lights turn on, and Victor gets a quick glimpse of Yuuri staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips—full, dripping red, utterly kissable, completely untouchable—before he screws his eyes shut.
Darkness again, so that maybe Yuuri can leave before he continues to make a fool of himself.
Breathing through his nose, he counts a full three Mississippi’s before saying quietly, “Please excuse my words. They were hardly appropriate, and I understand if you’d prefer to take your leave for the rest of the day, or the week, even, and you’d be fully compensated for—“
He cuts himself off when he feels something soft brush against his lips.
This time, he’s quick to react. He presses forward, pushing their mouths together again. And again. He cups Yuuri’s jaw, traces a thumb back and forth on his jawline. A hand slips into his hair and pulls, not that hard but enough to make him gasp a bit, and then a tongue is slipping into his mouth.
Victor’s not sure if his mind has short-circuited again, or if maybe it never recovered from earlier. All he knows, all he feels, is Yuuri—licking into his mouth, pushing him against the shelf of handbags behind him, slipping a hand underneath his shirt to press hotly on the muscle of his abdomen.
There are small details, too, that he registers faintly. Like the sound of a tube of lipstick dropping to the floor and rolling away, and how Yuuri tastes like coffee but smells like tea, and also how he’s relieved microfiber doesn’t wrinkle.
He says that last part out loud probably, while Yuuri has ducked down to mouth at his neck, because suddenly Yuuri’s pulling away to give him a look of utter disbelief. His lips are wet, lightly bruised from kissing, and covered in a messy smear of Dior Rouge around his mouth.
Victor’s sure he looks the same, but he laughs anyway. “You look incredible.”
Yuuri blushes, but his mouth twitches. Victor wants to paint him in every shade of red imaginable. “You have never looked better,” he says, smiling and serious.
Anonymous said: Hi! Could you do a longish Shuichi fluff (I guess??) where he finds the mc’s blades or sees fresh self harm marks on her arm? Sorry if it seems a little graphic, but I’ve been feeling down lately
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Fandom: Kissed by the baddest bidders Category: Smut Character: Shuichi Hishikura Notes: I AM SO SORRY this is long overdue! You requested this cux you’re feeling down, I am terribly sorry. No fluff came to my head luckily season 3 was out and I got a better understanding of Hishi, so here you go, I hope you approve. And thanks for your support
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They have been traveling a lot lately, back and forth from Tokyo, Dubai and England, fortunately as one of the auction sponsors Eisuke permits her to travel with Shuichi as long as she works in the hotel.
Work, that’s all there is to her.
Shuichi is always busy, it would be a president visit this week then a party to prepare next week, there’s always something to organize, never a quiet week at the embassy.
But she never says anything, he’s busy enough. There is no point in gaining his burden, complaining about her day would be bothersome so as wanting to go on a date. He should rather rest and she should spend more time to study, to catch up to his level.
English, Economy, Geography and Politics. Four subjects a week, endless textbooks and references everyday after her shift. Life sure has kept her occupied and fulfilled ever since she begins to date Shuichi, he’s an ambassador, she is well aware of what she’s signed up for when she decides to follow him.
She knows it all too well but none of these painful facts change her emotions, how depress she gets whenever she studies alone all night long in the empty suite or the loneliness that creeps under her skin each night when she crawls onto the huge vacant bed. There’s only one thing that makes her feel better, to feel the stress slowly leaves her tiny body and trap soul.
One day Shuichi comes home early to surprise her, he hasn’t seen her for two whole months, he really misses her smile. One look at her happy face, her sweet voice and gentle touches, every little thing about her brightens him. He enters and finds the suite empty as expected, she should be at work so he has few hours to settle. Maybe he’d get some flowers, get housekeeping to quickly re-decorate the room and orders a nice romantic dinner set. That would go perfect with the gift, he can’t wait to see her cries in tears of joy.
He’s in the bathroom as his boxer brief hits the floor, just as he’s about to open the glass door something shiny by the bathtub has caught his attention. And he’s not mistaken, it is a razor blade with stain of blood, his heart stops and his world stands still.
The airport stretches out endlessly in front of him. A
perfect metaphor for the next two weeks.
Derek lets out an audible huff, dragging his headphones off
his ears and shooting a scathing look his uncles’ way. They’d decided against
the matching Hawaiian shirts, thank god for small mercies, but Chris has a big
hat on like they’re already at the beach, and they’re leaning casually into
each other and giggling at something on Chris’ phone.
They’re so happy together it’s embarrassing.
Not like Derek doesn’t want his uncle to be happy or
whatever, but does he actually have to be here, standing right next to it?
“Last chance,” he says, loud, to get their attention. “I can call literally a dozen people to come give me a ride back
Because two weeks. Two
weeks on some godforsaken island with limited
cell service and only his uncle-slash-guardian and his new husband, Chris, for company.
This is practically a honeymoon trip,
except that they’d insisted, last minute, on bringing Derek along. Like
seventeen isn’t old enough to hang at home on his own for two weeks. Like he
needs them babysitting him.
Peter rolls his eyes and hoists his duffel higher over his
shoulder, but Chris, sensing what he’s long ago labeled as a “Hale storm
brewing,” steps between the two men and throws an arm over each of their tense shoulders.
“It’s a family trip, kid. Come on, it’s not so bad. Beaches,
“Attractive people in skimpy clothing,” Peter cuts in, light, like
there’d never been any tension building at all. His hand snakes around Chris’
waist not at all subtly and Derek
groans, twisting out of Chris’ grip.
“Allison didn’t have to come.”
Ok, so maybe that comes out sounding a little bit juvenile, but it’s not like it isn’t true. His new
stepsister – Chris’ daughter – had managed to dodge this bullet by virtue of
having another parent to nestle herself away with over the summer months.
Which has put Derek in a worse mood for a whole number of
reasons he’s not in a place to examine too closely.
Peter smiles sweetly, waving them toward the ticket gate.
“Well, nephew, when you get tapped for summer training by an
Olympic archery champion, you can bow out of family vacations too.”
Derek groans – ‘cause it’s not like that hadn’t gotten old about three and a half seconds after the
news came through either – and tugs his headphones back over his ears.
“Gotta take those off for the metal detectors!” Peter calls
back, and Derek aims two middle fingers at his uncle’s back.
Steve hadn’t meant to, something just compelled him to. It had happened faster than his eyes could contemplate but his legs and mind had already made themselves up in the split second it took. In the moment it took Steve to stand in the way of several rounds of bullets aimed at the brunette.
At first he felt warm, like he was on fire, or like his chest was anyway, burning up his throat like hot acid, till he coughed. He knew it what it was because he would taste the copper in his mouth, the air already filled with the smell. Steve recognised it from missions. The times with his army buddies. He had gotten used to it. However the taste of his own blood in his mouth as it bubbled up from his lungs wasn’t so familiar.
It would have been okay, if he was in his suit, or if he had been prepared for such an attack, but he hadn’t. He should have been ready, more aware, but he hadn’t taken it in. He just did what he had to in order to protect Tony. The thought as to what he should have done didn’t really cross his mind. He didn’t think about if he should have just pushed him out of the way, and it was too late for that anyway.
Oh and look. He had spoilt Tony’s nice grey cashmere suit. Now touched with splashes of red. His own suit filled with holes and shirt stained crimson in patches. He had ruined that too. Maybe it was replaceable? Tony had enough money, he could probably afford ten of these suits if he wanted to.
Tony’s eyes were still full of joy, still happy, he hadn’t gotten chance to register it all yet, Steve just stood there, looking into his eyes, watching as they slowly changed. A cloud of foggy misunderstanding, working out, processing, all going by in milliseconds before the true expression of jaw slightly slack, eyes glassy with tears and brows pulled down in distress. He couldn’t even keep the happiness on his face for long.
Steve’s hand went to his pocket, he felt the velvet box for the millionth time that evening. Tony would find it later. Best Steve could find. Not good enough to grace Tony’s finger though. Maybe he should have left it home again? Probably. He would have been a bad husband anyway.
Title: Too Old Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Genre: Fluff Warnings: Bucky is a salty old cracker Inspired by this post from @promptsblog A/N: Hi I love sarcastic Bucky
“I’m getting really tired of all these fancy dinner parties,” Bucky said next to you, kicking a stone along the path you had been walking for ten minutes now. “If I’d known there’d be so many, I wouldn’t have actually joined.” “Don’t say that,” you chuckled, “You still would’ve joined, you know it.” “Only because you’re so persistent,” he said, nudging you playfully as you walked. You’d removed your shoes, the heels way too tall to be walking through some politicians outdoor garden in. The path was made of smooth stone, the cool rocks chilling your feet while the evening air warmed your skin and tousled your hair. “I will admit,” you said, “I am getting pretty tired of wearing dresses.” “And since when did we becomes party clowns?” Bucky added, scoffing. “If I have to hear Thor’s story about pushing Loki into an enchanted river one more time, I’ll throw myself into a well.” “You could just ask Thor to throw you in,” you joked, smiling over at him. He laughed gently and put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. “Sometimes I think you’re the only one on the team I can talk to without wanting to tear my hair out, Y/N,” he said. “I mean, you do need a haircut,” you replied playfully, “Maybe it would do you some good to argue with Clint more often.” “Look, who the hell puts toothpaste on a dry toothbrush?” he asked, laughing as he spoke. “It’s just not right.” You laughed as you walked along the rocky path, the sky turning from a dim lavender to a deep violet. Lights on the ground lit up the path as it grew darker, adding a bit of ambience to your party-away-from-the-party. The sound of glass crashing came from the large house behind you, followed by the sound of cheering. It was like being at a frat party for full-grow, middle aged men. “Kids these days,” Bucky muttered, glancing back at the house. “Did you actually just say that?” you asked, unable to help yourself from laughing. “What?” he asked, “I’m a lot older than everyone here, Y/N, I can say that.”
“You’re not old, you’re… Worldly.”
“I’m 99.” “Okay, so you’re old.” Bucky shook his head and chuckled, removing his arm from your shoulders and wandering over to the nearby water fountain. It was lit up beautifully, the water sparkling like the stars. Bucky sat on the edge of the fountain and patted the spot next to him, an innocent look on his face. You rolled your eyes and made your way over to him, sitting next to him on the fountain. “I guess these parties could be worse,” Bucky said, “At least I don’t have to wander on my own.” “That’s what friends are for,” you said, glancing over at him. His head was tilted to the sky, the stars reflecting off of his eyes. “Is that what we are?” he asked quietly, the sounds of crickets and splashing water overlapping his words. “What else would we be?” you replied. “I’m not sure,” he said, “Maybe I thought we were something else.” “Like what?” you asked. “Something more than friends,” he said, his voice low. “If that’s what you want…” you trailed off. “I think it’s what I want,” he said, finally looking at you, “But then, I could just be a lonely old man.” “Worldly,” you corrected, smiling and reaching over to take his hand in yours. Bucky rolled his eyes and squeezed your hand gently. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closing in the process. You followed suit, simply enjoying his touch. “I think you look nice in dresses,” he said after a while, his voice low. “Only because they’re so tight you can see my insides,” you joked, eliciting a gently laugh from Bucky. “There’s also that,” he said, “Just something about when you can see a girls organs through her dress, I dunno.” “Well, I think you look nice in tuxedos,” you replied, opening your eyes too look at him. His expression was calm, something you rarely saw in him. “Glad you think so, Y/N,” Bucky said, smirking. “Do you think we should go back inside soon?” you asked, the sounds of the party finding their way back to your ears. “Maybe,” he said, “But I think we should stay out here just a little longer.” “If we stay out here any longer, Sam will come searching for us,” you chuckled, moving away from him but keeping your hand in his. “He’s probably too drunk to notice we’re gone,” Bucky said, standing and pulling you up with him. “Let’s head back in.” You nodded, standing close enough to him that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. It was comforting, in a strange way. “So you really think I look nice in dresses?” you asked as you wandered back to the building. “I really do,” he said, “Especially this one.” “I picked this one out,” you said, “Nat usually does it for me.” “I figured,” Bucky chuckled, “She wants you to be more adventurous, and I think she’s right.” “Hey, I’m plenty adventurous!” you defended. “Are you though?” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow at you. “Yes, I am,” you huffed. “Prove it,” Bucky said, that damned smirk on his face. “Fine, you asked for it,” you said, stepping in front of him and halting his pace. He looked at you in confusion, which soon turned to shock when you pressed your lips against his in a confident kiss. He couldn’t help but laugh against the kiss, which made you laugh and break the kiss. “Told you so,” you said, beaming with tenacity. “Guess I misjudged you,” Bucky said, placing his arm around you shoulder. “You’re so adventurous you’d kiss someone so old they could be your great grandpa.” “Shut up, old man,” you laughed, shoving him playfully as you walked back to the house together.
likes when you call him handsome or even acknowledging his presence
he’d do stuff like sniff your hair because he can not get enough of your sweet scent
he would compliment you a lot as well
if anything he says whatever’s on his mind
well, almost everything
when he wants to see you flustered, he’ll say something abut you in japanese and will refuse to tell you what it means
if he ever walks in on you changing, i dont know what he’d do
maybe he would just stare at you like
“wow… nice view”
or maybe he’d scurry out of the room and be all embarrassed like
i think he’d prefer making out over little smooches
i mean ofc he would give you those big smooches out in public if he wanted to but
ofc he would like making out with you in private
hes the type to accidentally touch you somewhere where a bathing suit would cover and play it off like
“OHMYGOD IMDOSPRRY PLS FORGIVR MEEEEE”
but would turn around and be like
cuddling would be you on top of him, his arms wrapped around your body and you both asleep
fights wont be too rough unless he feels as though he has been betrayed (who wouldnt????) but other than that, he cool
dates would be going to the mall and eating at a food court, a restaurant that serves both of your guys’s fav foods. and walking around the city or on a bridge near a river or going to the beach
to sum it up: hes a little snake that does no harm, simplicity, dates include: beach, mall, restaurants, bridges near oceans/rivers, the movies, cuddling includes: you on top of him w/ his arms wrapped around you entirely, does some sneaky stuff (but its on accident ok), loves making out w/ you in private, loves giving you big smooches in public, sniffs your hair bc of your lovely scent, is either confident or makes himself v v nervous
So a few weeks (months?) back oncepromised made a one-shot request for Killian seeing Emma in a bathing suit for the first time. And here it is.
He’s surprised when she suggests it.
“I just thought…after everything…maybe…and it’s such a nice day.” She twists her fingers as she says it, a hesitant smile on her face. “Summer is short in Maine.”
“I would never turn down an afternoon with you. Certainly not by the sea.” He takes the two steps across the kitchen of their shared home, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and kissing her hair. “It’s a lovely idea.”
So what would you consider the flaws and/or cons of the Tim burton version?
Flaws of the Tim Burton version?
-Charlie Bucket has no character. He’s too perfect, too kind, too selfless. That’s what the original movie did better, Charlie seemed like a real kid, who had flaws and wants. This Charlie barely emotes and is just…perfect and pure. That’s not relatable.
-The styling for Depp’s Wonka is really bad, especially in a post Michael Jackson world where it’s really obvious his look is influenced by Michael at the height of the sexual assault accusations. Remove the bob, maybe let him have some skin color? The suit is generally nice, the cane made of candy I always thought was a great touch.
-The movie utterly falls apart when you learn Wonka’s backstory. The thing is, I don’t hate the backstory itself. I just don’t like where it is in the movie. Give us the backstory in the beginning maybe, take us right up to him opening the factory then do credits over the factory montage. Get rid of the whole “you need to abandon your family to inherit the factory” storyline, get rid of the father-son reunion and pad out other aspects of the film. Show us more of what the world was like before Wonka first closed the factory, or just show us more of the Factory, CGI exists now, be creative!
I keep imagining jim and spock when they first get together before they've really done anything, and jim is obviously all about kissing (look at him in tos honestly) so he wants to get some of that lovely mouth of spock's but all spock wants to do is vulcan kiss with fingers and hands which is very exciting for him but not so for jim. and spock might not be too enthused at first about all that mouth on mouth business. they'd adjust and compromise to suit them both in time of course :)
Jim would so love watching him get all wide-eyed and blushy when he touches Spock’s sensitive fingers just right though. I bet a grin would just split his face and he’d mutter, “that’s nice, hmm?”
Maybe Jim would suggest trying just chaste kisses across Spock’s face, up over his high cheekbones, though Jim’s mouth would probably tremble as he holds back the urge to get too excited
And one time Spock takes the initiative, deciding he’s ready, turning his face so his lips meet Jim’s. Their lips pressed plush together and they feel so close, until Jim forgets himself just long enough to squeeze Spock’s hand too hard. Spock pulls back with a gasp.
“I’m sorry…! I’m sorry…can we try that again?”
They do, and Jim tastes just as sweet as Spock had imagined.