Yuuri has a picture of Victor and him as his lockscreen and wallpaper, maybe from their day at the beach or a picture someone took during their pair skate or a picture from practice where they are both sweaty and laughing and so in love.
But Victor has (two different) pictures of just Yuuri and he changes them a lot (because he takes a lot of pictures of Yuuri and would like to use them as a wallpaper all at the same time), and every time he opens his phone he just forgets what he was about to do and stares at the picture for a full five minutes, marvelling at the beauty of his husband.
And one time, Yuuri uses Victor’s phone because his own is dead (when Victor is still in the shower or sth bc you know The Hair) and Victor’s lockscreen is a picture Yuuri didn’t even know existed of him looking out over the city lights of Saint-Petersburg with a small smile around his lips while he’s absentmindedly patting Makkachin, and his heart just swells until he can hardly breathe, and he figures out how to make your phone switch wallpapers every time you open them and takes a bunch of selfies where he blows kisses and makes funny faces and just smiles, but he leaves the lockscreen the way it is. And now every time Victor opens his phone, his heart stops beating for a moment and whenever one of the pictures appear Yuuri took, he immediately calls him if he’s not around to tell him how much he loves him and asks him to get married again.
neil having a moment when he starts unpacking all his stuff in his and andrew’s first apartment. because he has so much stuff. he has way more than those eight outfits he always had before he stopped running. more than one pair of shoes. and pictures of not just of kevin but of all the foxes. of him and andrew. all the keys he’s collected over the years. and he’s just added another, a key to his and Andrew’s apartment he has so much. he has andrew.
Summary: Date night with Taehyung takes a pleasant turn, not that you’re complaining. Pairing: Taehyung | Reader Genre: Fluff/Smut Word Count: 4,439 Author’s Note: I feel like once you’ve opened the gates of knowing you’re capable of writing (trashy) smut it just… it doesn’t go away and that idea is ruining my life so I wrote this. For science. Basically you and Taehyung have (a lot of) sex in a pillow fort, because I’m single and frustrated. Enjoy.
To say you are excited would be an understatement as you take the stairs up to the dorms two at a time, your bag swinging at your side with each hop but you don’t care, even as breathing starts to become harder as your muscles start to ache after every step. Your lungs are working beyond what constitutes as a normal, everyday walk for you, but you are dashing down the hallway as soon as you reach the landing at the top of the stairs. You can feel your heartbeat in your ear, footsteps pounding against the floor, sure to disrupt all the neighbors who can hear the echo but you don’t give a fuck.
How could you possibly care, especially when your emotions have positively skyrocketed into the air with a simple phone call, that bright-eyed smile refusing to dip out from your face, your heart racing for more reasons than one as you watch the numbers of each apartment fly by.
Until finally you reach it.
You stop dead in your tracks, the wind catching up to you to ruffle hair as you stand with flushed cheeks, heaving chest, parted lips—locks in your mouth. You take in the apartment number, running the digits through your mind even though you already have the combination long memorized. You bite your lip as your heart continues to ram in your chest, fingers lifting up to curl at the hair sticking in your mouth to pull it down.
As soon as the hair is out of your mouth, you forget to straighten your clothes or your hair or wait until you’ve calmed down considerably. You’re still standing, heaving as if you’ve just ran miles and miles, fist raising up before you pound on the door.
It’s only a few seconds before the individual on the other side swings open the door, no ounce of hesitation in the gesture much like had it been with you, revealing Kim Taehyung—messy hair, bright eyes, cheeks flushed and his own chest heaving even though he’s only had to flutter from the couch to the door. But you’ve never seen a sight more beautiful, more perfect, and your heart sings from the sight of his physical presence.