Summary: Viktor arrives home early and catches Yuuri in the middle of a very special project. Much fluff and other sweetness.
Pairing: Viktor/Yuuri, Viktuuri
A very small one shot written in celebration of the birth of our lord and savior Viktor Nikiforov. Happy 28th Birthday!
Viktor’s key slid into the lock
with a practiced ease; the tumblers turning and grinding until a gentle ‘click’
resounded from deep inside the door. He adjusted the weight of the paper bag
nestled in the crook of his arm, hefting it closer to his body as he reached to
turn the knob.
“Yuuri!” He called into the
foyer of the apartment, pushing the door open with a graceful swing of his
narrow hips. Not even the excited scrabble of Makkachin’s claws on the wood
floor greeted Viktor as he toed out of his shoes and pushed them to the side.
That was unusual. Had Yuuri gone out without telling him? Viktor continued on
into the kitchen, hefting the bag onto the counter; the contents shifted inside
with soft thuds and the crisp rustle of paper.
“Yuuri, Лапочка! I’m home!” He
sang, but the only sound that came back to him was the echo of his own voice. Yuuri
didn’t often venture out by himself. With his Russian still mediocre at best, he
still didn’t feel entirely comfortable traveling the bustling streets of St.
Petersburg without someone to translate for him.
Viktor removed one of his
leather gloves- his gold ring glinting briefly in the dim light of the kitchen-
and pushed his hand deep into the pocket of his coat in search of his phone. A
pout puckered on his pale lips as he roused the device from its sleep. No
texts. No phone calls. It wasn’t like Yuuri to leave the apartment without
telling him. Could he… no…. Could he have been kidnapped!? Fear gripped
Viktor’s heart in its icy fist. Yuuri was one of the world’s top figure skaters
and was inexplicably adorable and charming to boot; who wouldn’t want that
precious little piggy for themselves? Viktor was halfway through coming up with
a rescue plan that bore a striking resemblance to a certain Liam Neeson film
when heard a noise coming from down the hall. Was that… clicking?
He was finally coming home. It had been a long and lonely couple of weeks without him while he toured and you were so anxious to feel him hold you close.
You had spent all day making the apartment ready for his return. It was clean, there were candles lit all around, you even wore his favorite matching set of lingerie. You planned on a long night of passion starting as soon as he walked through the door, to make up for lost time.
You heard him fiddling with the keys before turning the knob and pushing the door open. Your heart pounded with pure excitement.
Harry Potter does not grow up with casual touches. No gentle, comforting touches; no ruffled hair and forehead kisses; no steadying hands on his back and arm; nothing.
Hermione Granger is a shock to his system.
Hermione, who hands casual touches out so freely. She reaches for him without hesitation, offers up comfort without consequence. She throws herself into his arms, wraps her arms tight around his neck and squeezes, squealing with delight that he is there and alive and in front of her.
(She’s always thrilled to see him.)
Hermione ruffles his hair, chases him around the common room, places a hand on his elbow and arm and shoulder and back and thigh and is there a place she hasn’t touched?
It’s part of the reason he comes to rely on her. He begins to reach out, too. Opens his arms for her to step into and brushes the tears off the curve of her cheek. He turns the knob on the radio in that tent and offers up his hand, twirls around the room and twists their bodies together, swaying gently.
The touches set the foundation for the inevitable. The rubble and dust have settled and something–something–has shifted between them. The touches are loaded and electric. They’ve searched for a release valve (kisses between her and Ron and him and Ginny) without success.
They stand on the broken bridge of Hogwarts, huddled together and their hands entwined (more touches). He thinks now may be the time for a new first touch.
Harry turns her head towards his with a touch of his hand and he sees her eyes widen and hears her inhale sharply before his lips brush over hers, once, twice, and then a third time: long and lingering. Her grip tightens on their hands and it anchors him.
She breaks away and grins, resting their foreheads together. Harry laughs and peppers her face with kisses, over her eyes and head and nose and cheeks and then, because he can’t help himself, over her lips again.
Harry thinks these are the kinds of touches he could get used to.
I slammed the door of stiles jeep shut, briskly walking up Scotts driveway.Liam had called me about twenty minutes ago, telling me to get to Scotts as soon as possible.Lydia stopped at the front door waiting for me to catch up.
“y/n do you have any idea why we are here?”
I shrugged,pulling out the key Melissa had given me to the McCall house,and fitting it into the keyhole.I turned the knob swinging the wooden door open, and walking inside.Lydia following close behind.The minute I stepped into the foyer I could sense something was off.I raised my head a little, inhaling.
“It smells like blood..”I said turning to look at Lydia.
Before she could even open her mouth to respond I could hear the sound of flesh hitting flesh.Even without were-wolf hearing I could see that Lydia had heard it too.We locked eyes for a moment before I dropped everything in my hands and took off running towards the dining room,Lydia at my heels.I turned the corner, ebruptly stopping so that Lydia almost runs smack into my back.
“Theo?”I ask, my eyebrows knotted in confusion.
Sitting…well more like laying in front of me in non other than Theo Raeken .Blood was running out of his nose, and coating his lips.My view of his is partially blocked by the figure of Malia who is winding up to deliver another swing to his face.Theo chokes, slowly looking up at Malia, then me.
“its ok, You dont have to stop.”He sighed, closing his eyes, waiting for the next blow to be delivered.I watch as malia begins to bring her fist down, but I stop her, grabbing her wrist tightly.
“Stop it! Stop it right now!” I scream.
A deep silence settles over the room as I turn to lock eyes with Malia who is looking at me with a mix of anger and confusion.I drop her wrist. seeing that i left claw marks I turn away staring at the rest of the group.Liam,Lydia,hayden, and Scott are all staring at me, and I can tell that Theo is too.
“What…The…Hell?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
And it was as if a great dam had broken, that Liam and Hayden begin talking really fast, trying to fill me in.but I close my eyes signaling for them to stop.
“Get out.” I state flicking my fingers towards the door.Liam tries to protest but Scott locks eyes with me for a moment before agreeing.
“Come on guys, we will wait outside.”
Scott turns walking out the door, with Lydia and Hayden close behind.Lima hesitates for a moment before grabbing Malias arm and towing her out the door.I turn quickly, kneeling down next to Theo.
“Hey there Raeken, you miss me?” I ask, a smile dancing across my lips.
“Why’d you stop her?I deserved it…”He sighed deeply.
And just like that I knew he wasnt the same Theo that had tried to kill us all.I could see it in his eyes.I pulled him up so he was leaning against the door frame before sitting down across from him and pulling a few tissues out of my coat pocket, and handing them to him.He took them, and then looked over at me.
“I stopped her because as of right now I am the only one in our group that believes in second chances, and so that is what im giving you.A second chance…”I looked over at him. He had lowered the cloth from his nose and was now just staring at me.After a moment of silence I pointed towards his forehead.”You have a cut.”I got up, walking over to the kitchen sink and grabbing a wash cloth. I kneeled besides him as I pressed gently on his forehead with the cloth.I lowered my eyes to see that he was still looking at me.I dont know why but i sunk lower so that I rested on my knees, and so that our faces were level.
“Thank you for giving me a second chance.” He said quietly.
He then fell silent as I leaned forward connect my lips with his.It was a soft kiss, but still full of meaning.I pulled away, not taking my eyes offf his.
Imagine finding out your best friend Peter Parker is Spider-Man.
Aunt May chuckled as she saw a flash of [hair color] zip by the kitchen. Drying her hands on the kitchen towel, she turned her head just in time to catch the grinning girl before she slipped into her nephew’s room. “Hey, [Y/N].”
[Y/N] blew a kiss, “Hi, Aunt May!” Turning her back towards the door, she used her hand to turn the knob. “Thanks for the cookies, by the way.” Rushing into Peter’s room backwards, she quickly closed the door and turned around to find Peter half dressed in a very familiar red and blue suit.
Peter fumbled to get out of his Spider-Man suit. His long legs tripping out of the spandex material. Kicking it under his bed, he stood in just boxers, his hand reaching up to smooth out his messy hair. “Uh, hey. I, uh, w-wh-what are you doing here so early?”
[Y/N]’s mouth was on the floor. Her backpack fell slowly off her arms and onto his floor. Metal clanging to signal that she had scored some good pieces for Peter. “What…” trailing, her finger pointed to the red sleeve sticking out from the bed curtain. “what, what, is that?”
Looking down, Peter’s heart raced as his foot shoved it further under his bed. “N-nothing. It’s, it’s nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes as she finally picked her mouth up from the ground. Walking towards the bed, she bent down and pulled out the notorious Spider-Man suit. “You’reSpider-Man?!” [Y/N] halfway shouted.
Peter lunged towards her, his mouth clamping over her mouth. His eyes looking quite panicked. “Sh!
Nodding, she looked down at the spandex in her hand. “I can’t believe your Spider-Man.” [Y/N] said into his hand.
Removing his hand, Peter nervously shrugged. “Y-yeah.”
Narrowing her eyes again, [Y/N] punched Peter in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!”
OK SO: JASON’S NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR IS A SINGLE MOM AND HER CHILD REALLY LIKES JASON (THEY THINK HE’S SUPER COOL) AND JASON LIKES THE MOM AND HE BABYSITS ONE DAY JUST FLUFFY JASON WITH A KID, AND THEN THE MOM COMES BACK AND THANKS JASON (WITH SMUT)
A/N: I know this is one of the last requests I got, but my nephew came around and I got so inspired. Hope you enjoy this guys, and also if you haven’t unfollowed me yet I am so sorry anon, I just couldn’t bring myself to write smut in this because, I mean, I just didn’t know how to put it in! Everything here is just too fluffy!
Zen slams his fist against the door to Jumin’s home office. It’s been days since he locked himself up, days since he’s communicated with anyone. Jaehee’s been a mess and when she called him and had her breakdown, Zen couldn’t take it anymore.
So he pounds on the door again. “Jumin Han, I swear, if you’re doing this to test Jaehee’s work ethic or to take time to do some stupid cat experiment or something, I will–”
The lock clicks open and the door knob turns. Zen stops his tirade and stares at the dark circles under Jumin’s eyes, at pale color of his skin, the disheveled hair. All his anger leaves him in a soft sigh as he steps into the room.
“I see you used your key,” Jumin notes, heading toward his desk chair. He slumps into the seat in a manner quite unlike himself and stares at Zen, waiting. “It is about time you learned how to unlock a door on your own.”
“Jumin, this needs to stop,” Zen says, crossing the room to stand before him. He purposely ignores the half-hearted snark. “You can’t continue to weigh down your company without you there and Jaehee… she’s a mess, she’s–”
“You know…” Jumin props an elbow on the arm of his chair and rests his chin in the palm of his hand. “I really thought my father and I came to an understanding after the Glam Chou debacle. I thought he truly valued my opinions. I thought he would continue to put me above everyone else as I did him.”
Zen falls silent and stares. Of all the things he was expecting, family drama was not amongst them.
“It’s quite… is the right description painful?” Jumin’s brow furrows as he turns the chair to stare out the window. “Painful, yes. It’s quite painful to be shoved aside like a worn down toy. My father… he will never see me as I believed he did. I am a figurehead for his company, a placeholder so he can frolic with new women whenever he wishes.”
Jumin’s melancholy sigh makes Zen move closer.
“Perhaps that is all I’m meant to be. A figurehead, a placeholder… perhaps I really do have no permanence. To anyone.”
Zen closes the distance between them in seconds, pulling Jumin’s head against his chest and wrapping his arms around his shoulders.
“You really are oblivious sometimes,” he says softly, threading his fingers through Jumin’s hair.
Jumin sags against him and lets loose a soft, relieved sigh. His arms slowly rise to wrap around Zen’s waist, pulling him closer. Zen doesn’t protest the proximity. He bends to press a kiss to the top of Jumin’s head, silently grateful that he’s the one to help pull such a strong man out of a deepening hole.
“I can hear your heartbeat,” Jumin’s says softly.
“Tch,” Zen scoffs, running his hand soothingly across Jumin’s back. “Then shut up and just listen to it.”
Jumin turns his face to the side, pressing an ear against Zen’s chest. Zen glances down in time to see Jumin’s eyes flutter shut and the barest hint of a smile cross his lips before he whispers, “Gladly.”
She sighed as she sat up from the grass and stretched her back. She was sitting behind her school, why? Because she wanted to piss off her favourite teacher.
She decided she had held out long enough to promptly annoy him, and decided to head to History, the class he taught.
She inhaled before opening the door to his classroom, she was 27 minutes late, but she didn’t care, she wanted all the attention from her teacher that she could get. And the best way to get attention from a teacher, was to be a shit student.
Turning the knob, she walked in, and all eyes landed on her, except the teachers, he didn’t even need to turn around to see who it was.
“Miss [Y/L/N], see me after class.” He said in a tired voice, clearly irritated by her actions, but she just grinned.
“Yes, sir.” She took her seat towards the front of the class and the teacher continued his lesson, though, she wasn’t paying attention.
She was too busy admiring the way his white button down shirt and black jeans fit his lanky body, and how his chocolate brown eyes followed the words he scribbled onto the blackboard. How his large hands gripped the chalk he was holding, how his brown hair swept to the side. This teacher was unlike her others; he was young, laid back, and extremely attractive. Everything about her teacher drove her insane. She bit her lip to hide a smile as she thought of all the ways his hands could hold various parts of her, and how soft his pink lips would feel on hers.
Suddenly, the bell rang, and while the other students gathered their things to go home, she sat still, wondering if her teacher would address her and tell her off or if this would be another silent detention like the last three, leaving her to her thoughts, her filthy thoughts.
As soon as all the students left the classroom, the teacher sat back down at his desk, and began scribbling something onto some papers, he was grading them, or so she assumed.
10 minutes passed and he still hadn’t said anything, but unknown to him, he was driving her wild.
Every once and awhile, he’d mess with his hair, ruffling it, making it stick up in spots. Or he’d crack his knuckles, the sound echoing through the near empty room. And most importantly, he’d loosened his black tie and undone a few buttons on his shirt.
This fucker was killing her softly, so she decided to be bold, unusually bold. She stood up from her desk, and walked over to her teacher, leaned down, and laid her hands upon the top of the desk.
He didn’t look up from what he was doing, he just continued to look down through his glasses at the work he was doing. She spoke up in the most sensual voice she could muster. “Guess what, Mr. Howell.”
He raised an eyebrow, still not looking up at her. “What is it, Miss [Y/L/N]?”
She leaned down even further, hoping to force him to look at her.
“I’m not wearing any knickers.”
She smirked to herself, quite proud she had managed to state that without stuttering or turning red. Mr. Howell, however, was not phased by this. At least, not to her.
‘What a dirty student I have.’ He thought as he shifted in his seat.
She wouldn’t give up though, she’d sat through his tortures for too long, and he was going to learn what she thought of him.
She walked around his desk, behind his chair, and wrapped her arms around his torso, straightening him in his seat and resting her chin on his shoulder. “You fucker, don’t you realise what you do to me?” She whispered in his ear.
He removed her hands from his body and swiftly got up from his chair. And suddenly she realised how tall he actually was. He stood at over a foot taller than her.
“Miss [Y/L/N], I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. But I am your teacher, and you don’t need to talk to me this way.” He spoke, but he didn’t sound angry, he sounded somewhat disappointed. However, she wasn’t about it stop anytime soon. She grabbed his tie, and pulled him down so she could look into his eyes. “Shh, Mr. Howell. I want this, I want you. I don’t fucking care if you’re my teacher. I need you.” She emphasised the last three words by whining slightly, brushing her lips against his.
“I don’t want to get arrested.” He said quietly, guiltily enjoying her attention. She smirked, “You won’t, if we’re careful enough.” She pressed her lips against his, and he kissed back, placing his large hands upon her hips. She let go of his tie and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She pulled away from the kiss and whispered into his ear, “Sit back down.” As she walked over to the classroom door, locking it and rolling down the blinds.
She walked back over to him, and straddled his lap, slowly grinding her bare core against his clothed crotch, causing the area below her to get harder. “I wish you knew what you did to me.” She whispered into his ear as she kissed down his neck. “I wish you knew how I touch myself at night, thinking about how our bodies would fit together-” She kissed his collarbone. “-or how you sound when you’re pleasured-” She unbuttoned his shirt and yanked off his tie. “-or how you’d feel inside of me.”
He gulped slightly, shifting underneath her as she felt his member twitch uncomfortably through his jeans. She just laughed, and crawled off of his lap, fiddling with his belt buckle. She slid down his jeans and underwear in one pull. She got on her knees in front of him, and took his member in her hands, pumping it slowly.
“You know, Mr. Howell, you’re a hell of a lot bigger than I ever imagined you’d be.” She smiled and kissed the tip of his member, causing him to moan softly.
Slowly, she took his length in her mouth, his member hitting the back of her throat. She bobbed her head slowly, as his hand found its way to her hair, gripping it tightly.
Leaning his head back in pleasure, he closed his eyes and moaned out occasionally. She started going faster, and his moans became more frequent and louder.
“Fuck,” he stuttered out. “I can’t last much longer.” She smirked and bobbed her head faster, him coming unglued under her.
He came in her mouth, and she swallowed it all. She smiled fondly at her teacher, and sat back down on his lap, rubbing his chest softly.
“You taste good, daddy.” She said as she kissed his lips softly. A faint blush upon each of their faces. As one hand cupped her cheek and the other laid upon her thigh, rubbing it as softly as she was rubbing his chest. They shared a slow, passionate kiss.
But then, the class phone rang, startling both of them and breaking them apart, a line of saliva connecting their pink lips. She broke the string of saliva while he reached for the phone, clearing his throat before answering it.
“Hello? Yes, she’s here.” He looked up at her and mouthed 'It’s your mum.’ She nodded, laying her hands on his shoulders, rubbing them softly, his hand still on her thigh as he listened to her mum on the other end of the line.
“Yes, I had her stay after class for being tardy, yes, she has detention for a week, yes, I’ll send her home now. Okay, bye.” He leaned back up and hung up the phone, looking at her fondly. “Sorry for giving you detention.” He smiled.
She just laughed. “It’s fine, as long as I’m the only person stuck with you.” He nodded. “Oh trust me, you will be.”
She got up from his lap, and they both stood. He pulled his trousers back up and she began fixing his shirt and tie. He smoothed out her hair and kissed her forehead softly.
“You’re a naughty girl, you know that?” He smirked as he rested his forehead upon hers, playing with the hem of her skirt.
“Yeah I know, but I’m your naughty girl.” She kissed him, and walked to her desk to pick up her bag. Walking to the door, she turned around and looked at him.
“Oh, and Mr. Howell?”
“Open my desk when I leave.” She waved at him and left the room.
He stood by the door, watching her walk down the hallway and out the front doors. He walked over to her desk and saw a piece of paper, sprayed with her favourite perfume, and neatly folded with “Mr. Howell” written on it.
He unfolded the paper and grinned to himself when he read it.
“Here’s my number, call me tonight, and by the way, Mr. Howell? I love when you wear your glasses, even though we both know you don’t need them.
A/N: so this is definitely not my best, i’m sorry anon! also i got 100 followers!! is this a dream?
A knock on your front door rung through the living room. Your life had been, apart from the ongoing war, pretty quiet. Dumbledore offered you a place in the Order, to fight for what’s right, but the chaos and aching feeling in your chest couldn’t quite cut it. The loss of your best friends was too painful.
You were reading and the turning of the page stopped, you placed the book on the arm rest of the sofa. Nimble toes reached the wooden floor and a soft pitter-patter echoed the room. Your hand paused when you began to turn the door knob, what if it’s a death eater? With little to no courage, you opened the door and a man with shabby clothes was tapping his foot nervously. The reaction on his face was heart aching and immediate tears began to fall down his face.
“Y/N? Is that you?” His coarse voice questioned, his hand reaching up to wipe the tears off his face. Instantly, you recognised who it was. It was by his nervous ticks, but mostly because of his eyes.
“Sirius, oh my god,” you whisper, carefully reaching for his tangled ebony hair. His slender arms tugged at the back of your sweater as he engulfed you with his body. Soft sobs still coming from his throat.
“I can’t believe you are here, I thought you’d be-” he stopped, unable to finish his sentence.
“I thought you’d be gone,” he choked out, his body shaking.
Your quiet “shh's” mumbled against Sirius’ chest were like a melody to him as you soothingly pat his back.
“Let’s get out of the cold, yeah?” You start, pulling out of his embrace and grasped his hand, pulling him into your small home. A large fireplace being the only source of warmth, the flames crackling and swaying.
You sat in front of the fire, your hands playing with the loose threads of the rug, sometimes pulling out tiny strands of string. Sirius sat there beside you, his face illuminated from the fires glow. Your thoughts were whizzing in your mind, how did Sirius escape from Azkaban?
His gaze was fixed on you, “what are you thinking about?”
You looked up from the rug, “you.”
He knew what you were thinking about, he was suppose to be in Azkaban for Merlins sake. “The nightmares haunt me every night, I didn’t kill them, why would I kill my best friend?” Sirius rambled, he was wringing his hands and you had never seen him more damaged.
“Hey I believe you, you wouldn’t be in my house right now if I thought otherwise.” You chuckled, a sucky attempt to lighten the situation. He didn’t answer, his mind was somewhere else.
“You’re the only one who has believed me.”
“That’s not true! You haven’t talked to the Order have you?” You said, shaking your head for asking such a question, of course he hadn’t talked to the Order. Sirius didn’t reply, he got up clumsily and walked around your living room, stopping every now and then to look at the items cluttered on shelves. He came to a complete halt when he saw the photo, of the Marauders and you on the last day of school. The moving photograph showing the five of you laughing, and it looked like you hadn’t a worry in the world.
“I remember that day,” he murmured, delicate fingertips tracing over it.
“James accidentally spilled butter beer on Lily, she was fuming,” you reply, smiling at the memory that was never forgotten.
“The good days.”
“Yes Sirius, the good days.”
“I’m so glad you are here.” He turned around to face you, this time you were holding him so tight, as if he were to disappear from your arms into thin air. The smell of sweat and grass and your perfume was all in one mix. He spoke again but it was muffled.
“I want to get a hair cut, would you be able to cut my hair?” He asked, pulling away from you slightly to look at your face.
“Of course just wait here.” You untangled your arms from his body and rushed off to find the scissors. After searching through a few drawers you finally found what you were looking for. Sirius was sitting at a chair on your dining table, picking at his t-shirt.
“How short do you want it?” You ask, tying your hair up into a tousled bun.
“Up to my ears, I’m sick of it being so long,” he halfheartedly affirmed, touching the ends of his hair lightly.
You began cutting it, layers of hair falling on your marble tiles. Sirius stayed so perfectly still while you cut it you thought he had fallen asleep. The sound of scissors silenced and you raked your fingers through his hair, making sure no loose strands of hair were stuck in his hair.
He scratched the back of his neck, “does it look okay?”
“You’re Sirius Black, you would look good with any haircut,” you compliment, a tinge of pink hitting the apple of your cheeks. He smiled, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Just relax, I’ll wash your hair for you.” You laugh, the water a murky brown, he was filthy. The smell of apples hit your nose when you scrubbed the shampoo through his hair.
“You use to always smell like apples, you know?” Sirius recalls, turning around to look at you.
“I’m surprised you remember such a small detail,” you note, smiling at him nevertheless.
“And you use to organise your books in alphabetical order,” he continues, a grin plastered on his lips, waiting to see your reaction. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a mirror of his smile.
“You really didn’t forget did you?” You ask, kissing his hairline, the sour taste of shampoo on your lips. Perhaps seeing Sirius again was all it took to bring the light back in your eyes, someone who made you enjoy every little thing that existed in the mass of the universe.
For trans people, a systematic passage of laws somewhere between legalizing and mandating discrimination in all things. This is already legal in much of the country, but again, it’s possible to turn up the knob: to basically ensure that being trans causes you to lose your job, your home, and have your children taken away from you.
I would expect that this is the first place where we’ll see a resurgence of “purity” laws. We used to have a lot of these, e.g. “gay people are a danger to our children and cannot be allowed to work in schools.” Here, you could not only have that, but you could have restrictions on where people are allowed to live. Consider that sex offender registries — already deemed constitutional — and their associated requirement that you not live within a certain radius of a school essentially ban people on those registries from living in most towns and cities altogether, and force people into trailer parks and the like on the periphery of town; also consider that you can get on those registries for public urination. (Which is, per the law, “indecent exposure” and thus a sex crime) To say that it wouldn’t be hard to make “walking around while trans” a crime of similar order is an understatement.
Summary: You sneak into you and Taeyong’s shared apartment, only to find he’s already waiting up for you in your room. He’s got a surprise for you too.
A/N: Okay so this is my first post for 7 Nights of K-Spoop, I’ve had this in my drafts for a while kind of unfinished, so I decided to revamp it and hopefully turn it into something consumable. Enjoy!
You tiptoed into your temporarily shared apartment, careful to turn the knob before closing the door, in order to silence the latch.
Two months ago your friend Taeyong had mentioned to you that his lease was up and although he didn’t want to, nor was he required to by his company, he would probably just stay at his dorm until he could sit down properly to search for an apartment. It took you no longer than 3 seconds to interject, explaining just how much you needed a new roommate. Ever since you kicked out your old one for being such a slob, you had noticed just how little variety your meals had. It’s not because your old roomie was the chef of the house—no. More like you were struggling to even come up with your monthly pet fee, you had to pay in order to be allowed to keep your cat ‘Sniffles;’ let alone be able to afford actual groceries. You really needed someone to split the rent with, and in your eyes Tae was the perfect candidate.
As you stealthily slid past his room you couldn’t help but to think of just how perfect a roommate he was. He had only one fault, and it was the reason behind your current sneakiness; sometimes…. he gave a little too frequent advice. He wasn’t bossy or anything, it was just sometimes he took his job as your 'oppa’ a little too seriously. He nagged you more than your own brother and mother combined. “Don’t come in too late!” “Are you getting enough vitamin A?” “Call me when you get there.”
Honestly you’re not even sure why you listened to him so adamantly, there was just something in his being that made you feel as though he was there to protect you and look out for you.
Your analysis of his 'golden oppa’ image was cut short when you upon opening your bedroom door, were met with one of the most frightening images you ever had the misfortune of seeing… a waiting Taeyong.
His eyes immediately caught yours, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything besides stare back at him with a look you knew was resemblant of a kid who had just been caught sneaking cookies out the cookie jar.
Your voice was trapped in your throat as well as your excuse.
He didn’t say anything, he just sat at the foot of your bed arms crossed over his lap, his bright eyes staring hard at you through the darkness.
You finally moved to flick on the light switch right next to where you were standing. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say you were ready to run right back out that door you so carefully walked through just a few minutes ago and hide out until Taeyong called you and told you he forgave you and if you came home soon he’d only ground you for one week instead of two.
But before you could work up the courage to bolt out of there, your eyes caught sight of a white box that was placed right atop his thighs separating his arms and his lap. A detail you hadn’t noticed before in the dark.
With a painfully obvious gulp, you pushed a string of words out of your mouth hoping to fill the awkward silence, “So what’s in the box?” In between every word there was a little pause, your body’s way of making sure you said each word clearly without tripping over anything despite how nervous you were.
He quirked an eyebrow and made an expression that almost resembled….amusement?
“You can’t tell?” Shaking your head, you squinted at the object attempting to decipher the letters that were peaking out from underneath his arms.
“I’ll give you a hint. It’s yours,” he was now holding the item which he claimed to be yours even more firmly, completely obscuring any letters you had hoped to read.
After a few empty moments with you trying to think of what it possibly could be you gave up hoping he would stop acting so odd and just tell you.
He stood up and walked towards you carefully turning the box in his arms so that the side with the words was now pressed into his stomach. Stopping just a few steps in front of you he extended the box to you, staring at you with that same cold stare he used when he was preparing to scold you.
With a slight tremble you pushed your arms out and rested your hands on top of the box’s edges, gripping lightly enough to feel the lid lift slightly under your fingertips. Slowly you lifted it up and peered inside.
You could feel your heart begin to race and your mind clouding with all the thoughts you were sure had crossed Taeyong’s mind when he found what you were currently holding.
You frantically placed the lid back over the top of the container and took it from his hands, sliding it back under the bed where he had found it.
“Why do you have that.” He was staring at you again with those hard eyes that made your body buzz with anxiety and some other feeling you couldn’t quite place your finger on.
Why did you have that? For what use? You never once tried it out in the whole month you’d had it. It wasn’t even your purchase. Your friend had mailed it to you a couple days after hearing you complain to her on the phone about how frustrated you were. How frustrated you were because you hadn’t been able to get off ever since Taeyong moved in with you.
He was constantly buzzing around you, asking you about your day and if you had done anything especially exciting or productive. He was always lingering around you when you were cooking meals for the two of you, or doing your morning stretches. He was constantly there putting you on edge.
It wasn’t that you were annoyed by him. It was the opposite. Every single one of his actions made your body tingle with an overwhelming sense of want and guilt. Yes that was the other feeling—want. Everytime you had gone to take care of your needs, you found yourself pulling your fingers out of your sticky heat as soon as your thoughts began to stray.
Everytime you would try to block out your thoughts. And everytime you thought you were successful, right as your body began to jerk upwards in anticipation of your oncoming orgasm, you would feel the urge to moan his name.
Taeyong. Taeyong. Taeyong. Your body kept trying to push the two forbidden syllables out from underneath your tongue. The two syllables you had reprimanded yourself once before for accidentally spewing out as you came all over your trembling digits.
Right after you calmed down from the aftershocks you ran to your bathroom and scrubbed your hands clean til they were raw in hopes of ridding yourself of the grime and guilt you felt for getting off to the thought of your roommate, and friend at that.
“Hey don’t space out,” his command snapped you out of your own spinning thoughts, “I asked you why you have this.”
“For my needs…” Your voice had dropped several decibels as you choked out your so seemingly clear reasoning for having a vibrator stashed away in your room.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
What the fuck was this guy talking about “why didn’t you tell him?” What the fuck were you supposed to tell him? 'Hey don’t know if you were wondering or anything but lately I’ve been in a sex drought. Thoughts, opinions?”’
“Was I supposed to tell you,” your tone changed from shy and embarrassed to sarcastic and weary.
“Pardon?” You raised an eyebrow at his demand. Was he about to spank you like a little kid and then read you a bedtime story?
“Get up on your bed, head down ass up.”
You thought you were stuck in place until your legs started moving and you felt the soft ply underneath your thighs. What was happening?
Your body was flipped around as you went to ask him what he was doing.
“I said head down…” he was pulling your hips up so that the only thing touching the mattress was your forehead and the rest of your body knee down. Thwack! “…ass up.”
You let out a sharp gasp as the sting set in.
“Taeyong,” the rest of the question you had planned to ask him trailing of into nothingness, as he slithered his hand up the back of the dress you were wearing, and towards your neck.
“I’m your oppa aren’t I?“
“When you need help you should come to me, no?”
“Ye-yes,” your body was warming up due to the nervousness that had begun to set in as he snaked his way back down to the bottom of your dress.
“Well I get it. You might’ve been embarrassed. You shouldn’t be though,” he sucked in air through his teeth, "I care about you, you know. I’m here to take care of you.”
Your window that you had left open before you snuck out, in case you lost your key and needed another way in, was letting in small gusts of wind that were adding to the tickling sensation you felt, over all of your body, in tangent to the blazing trails his fingers left behind.
He began lifting up the hem of your dress slowly as he caressed the backs of your thighs with his other hand. His finger ran a line up your covered slit, making your legs tremble from the slight, although sensational, action.
“Mm I’m gonna make you feel so good,” you let out an involuntarily whimper as your body prepared itself for his promise.
“Yeah,” he added slightly quieter, as though he was confirming to himself his goal for the night.
He slid your panties down your thighs, and dragged his finger up your now bare slit. He held it up to his face as though examining a test tube. He hummed, deciding upon what he thought of what he had just collected from you moments before.
“We’re gonna get our princess nice and ready for my cock. That sound good to you?” He lifted your chin up so that you were looking into his eyes.
You nodded the best you could, with the grip he had on you, “yeah that sounds good,” you let out the last part with a whisper trying to contain the excitement you felt bubbling in your veins, as he continued stroking your wet heat.
Within the blink of an eye, he turned you back around and pulled your legs around his neck, immediately slipping his head between your thighs and nestling his tongue between your folds.
Every lick he gave, you could feel your abdomen twirling and a buzz where his lips were located. He switched from swirling his tongue around your bulb, to latching onto all his mouth could catch. He was sucking at your clit and its surrounding lips.
The moans he was letting out inbetween his actions seemed to become more frequent in turn with the more you thrashed your hips up into his face, clutching at the newly black, bed of hair atop his head.
He snaked his arms underneath your hips and clasped your hands together with his, preventing you from escaping the pleasure he was drowning you in.
Panting, you felt a knot beginning to coil in your stomach. “Tae-Taeyong—mph fuck!” He freed two of his fingers and rolled your clit between them. He looked up at your sweaty face soaking up all the glory he felt from making you an exasperated mess, all at the hands of his tongue.
“Are you close?” He continued twiddling his fingers as he held your gaze, waiting for your reply.
You faced temporary distraction as you stared at the wetness coating his lips and gleaming from his chin. You choked out a weak “uh-huh,” which he took as the right away, to continue devouring your whole entire being.
With a final few flicks of his tongue, paired with deep vibrations provided from his moans, you came, letting all your juices flow onto his eager tongue. He sopped up the majority of your release, the rest he wasn’t able to get covering the entirety of his mouth.
He dragged himself up your body and shoved his tongue into your open mouth, spreading your essence all around your wet cavern, until you were panting into the kiss from a lack of air.
Your mind was still spinning as you tried to process your surroundings and make sure you hadn’t fallen into dream state. “Wow.”
You leaned in to kiss him once again, but before your lips could touch, he pulled away and climbed off the bed. He shot you a smile and patted your cheek as he reached for something on the bedstand. “We still haven’t tried out your toy yet,” the grin etched on his face was filled with twisted joy and a strong sense of knowing. Knowing exactly what a ride you were in for, for the rest of the night.
It was an off day at base. No training, no missions, just a leisure day. Genji had planned to meditate with Zenyatta in the morning and then spend the rest of the day with you, but he could not find you anywhere. He asked around base and no one had seen you. Genji felt a little uneasy as he walked quickly up the stairs and to his S/O’s room. He knocked twice, but heard no response. He knocked one more time before saying “My love, are you there?”.
“Yeah” a weak voice called out. He turned the knob and slowly entered the room. His S/O was sitting in front of the mirror, wearing barely any clothing, their gaze fixed on their scarred body. Genji stepped to you, and placed a metallic arm on your shoulder. “Is everything alright?” He asked, sitting down next to you. Your eyes stayed fixed to your body, not trying to hide the sadness in your face. “Do… do you think I’m attractive?” you whispered, finally looking at Genji’s reflection in the mirror.
Genji took a moment to answer, initially shocked that they would even need to ask that question. “Y-yes, of course!” he assured. “Do you think otherwise?” he asked, kindness and comfort in his voice. Your head hung low as you tried to hold back tears. “N-no! Not with these stains on my skin” Your voice cracked as you spoke, allowing a tear to escape from your eye. “What are you talking about? Your scars do not take away any beauty you ho-” he said before you cut him off. You stood up quickly and stomped away from him and the mirror.
“Don’t lie to me, I know they’re ugly. They’re just muddy smears of times where I wasn’t strong enough to protect myself” You sobbed, tears falling down your cheeks. Genji slowly stood and inched quietly to his S/O.. He sighed “I should have shown you before, but I didn’t know they bothered you that much.” Genji said, as his hands moved up to his mask. There was a small screech as the pressure was released and the mask removed from his face.
You turned your head back, surprised to see genji without his visor. You faced him fully, as your hands instinctively rose to his face, rubbing your thumbs and fingers across the marks. “You’re so handsome” you whispered as you scanned his face. He had never shown his face to you before, so you didn’t know he was covered with just as many scars as you had on your body. A large smile grew on your lips as you rested your head on his shoulder. “You are as well” Genji smiled, wrapping his arms around you into a hug. He pulled back and lifted your chin as he leaned in and kissed you on the lips for the first time.
You and Hanzo held hands as you walked along a crowded path. You and him had agreed to pick up a few things from a market in Spain. You wore a tank top, showing off your wounded arms and neck. Normally you didn’t mind their existence, it showed you survived whatever hurt you, so you bore them without a second thought. You were not far from your destination, and while enjoying the comfortable silence, you overheard some people behind you. “… bestia con cicatrices” was all you heard other than a few snickers. You glanced back and saw a group of teenagers staring at you -no, your arms- and laughing. Hanzo quickly took notice as you let go of his hand and instinctively covered your arms.
Hanzo had not heard or understood what the teenagers had said, but understood the situation immediately. He turned back to the group and sent a death glare to them. His resting face already seemed like he was angry, so when he actually was, it was terrifying. All five of their eyes’ widened as they stood and hurried away, muttering curse words out of fear. Hanzo then turned to face you, your gaze purposefully avoiding his. “My love…” he said stopping you and holding your hand.
“It’s nothing, they were just pointing out the truth.” You whispered, still refusing to meet his eyes. His brows furrowed as he pulled you into a hug, embracing you tightly. A gesture so uncommon from the prideful archer, especially in public. You wrapped your arms around him and buried your head in his neck. He did not say much, only a few sentences in Japanese you had learned the meaning of because he says them so often. After a minute, you pulled away with a smile on your face. “Thank you.” You said, wiping the last tear from your eye.
“Anything for you” he smiled and took your hand again. Actions always spoke louder than words with Hanzo, and you loved it.
[translation: “scarred beast” in Spanish.]
You laid across Jesse’s lap, eyes closed and exhausted after a mission today. Mccree was humming some song that was starting to send you to sleep, when he stopped. You felt his gaze lie undisturbed on your face. Your eyes opened slowly to see he was just staring at your face. You smiled, “whatcha looking at?” “Just something beautiful” he cooed in response. A light flush of red overcame your face as you looked away from him.
Your attention had returned to Jesse as his hand caressed your cheek, along a deep scar you received a long time ago. You closed your eyes, enjoying the touch, but also feeling the slightest bit self conscious. You had not thought about your scars all day, but now you were. Your mind spiraled slowly in a circle of negative thoughts, only to be broken by hands on your arms.
Mccree had rolled up your sleeve and was tracing all the major scars on your arm. You opened your eyes and looked up to him. “What are you doing now?” You asked timidly. “Just admiring” he said simply. “I know I should keep my hands off the merchandise, but I just can’t do that” he teased. You squinted your eyes and pulled Jesse off the couch and onto the floor, you fall in after him. He let out a chuckle before asking “what was that for?”
“I’m not merchandise you fool” you snarled, looking down to him. A soft smile spread on his face before he reached up and stroked your face again. “Darlin’ I know that. I’s just teasing” he apologized “sometimes I just feel I need to remind you how beautiful you are” your face turned a brighter red before you leaned down and pecked his lips. “You’re too good to me” you teased. “I know” he responded, pulling you back into another kiss.
you should do a story about how newt gets drunk for the first time and says some adorable shit to Y/N - @imherefromninospizza (Bevvy/Bevin)
This was just a ton of fluff I threw on notebook paper in school eNJOY
Tina, Queenie, Jacob, and Newt decided to go the Blind Pig for fun one night. (You wanted to stay at your apartment instead and read your new book). Queenie and Jacob were sitting at the bar enjoying shots of gigglewater, Tina’s eyes were constantly flitting around to make sure there wasn’t a repeat of last time when Aurors tore up the place, and your boyfriend Newt was standing in a corner listening to the woman singing with a drink in hand.
**An hour later**
There was a knock at the door of your and Newt’s apartment. You set your copy of Les Miserables down onto the coffee table and walk towards the door to answer it. You turn the knob and flung it open.
There stood Tina and Jacob, with Newt wobbling and leaning on both of them.
“Newt here got a biiiit drunk,” said Tina, dragging out the ‘bit’. “Queenie got tipsy and we already took her back to our apartment.”
You sighed. Newt always did have a very low alcohol tolerance; but he usually didn’t drink much anyway, so this was new for you. “Alright, I’ll take care of him.”
Tina and Jacob handed Newt over to you. He nearly collapsed, but you managed to catch him and lug him into your shared room and onto your bed.
“Mmm… I’m *hic* fiiine…,” Newt slurred as you lay him down.
“No, you’re drunk,” you replied, and went into the bathroom to get a cold cloth.
Once you got back, you lightly pressed the cloth to Newt’s sweat-soaked forehead and cheeks. As you did so, he brought up a hand and tucked a piece of loose hair behind your ear.
“You’re veeery pwettyyy.”
You smiled at his childlike action and pulled his hand back down onto the bed. “You’re very sweet, baby, but you need to sleep.”
He frowned. “Only if you cuddle with meee,” he whined.
You laughed and ruffled his hair, making him smile. “Fine. But take your shirt off, you’re a sweaty mess.”
“Nooo I just want to cuddlllle,” he slurred.
You shook your head. “No cuddles until you take off your shirt. I’ll help you if I have to.”
Newt was too intoxicated to process that last part, so you did indeed end up having to take his shirt off for him and throw it in the hamper.
You climbed under the covers and let Newt cuddle up to you, burying his head in your chest and slinging an arm around your waist, pulling you close. You pet his hair and kissed his forehead. Pretty quickly, soft snores were coming from Newt.
“Oh dear, you’re going to have quite the hangover in the morning.”
Please let me know what you thought of it and what I could do better next time!
Lucas whistled as he made his way up his driveway to the front porch of his new home. He couldn’t believe that they were celebrating not only their first holiday in the new house but were also going to be celebrating their one-year wedding anniversary. Lucas climbed up the steps to the front door and as he was turning the door knob he could hear the scratching of their golden retriever puppy at the door.
As soon as the door was open the puppy leaped into Lucas’s arms, placing slobby dog kisses all over his face.
“Hello boy, I hope you were a good boy for mummy today.”
Leo continued to lick Lucas’s face so Lucas took that as a yes.
Lucas still remembers the day they picked him up from the pound. It was a couple if weeks ago and Riley decided she wanted a pet, and so they decided to go looking at the pound first. He was the first puppy they saw and it was love at first sight.
“And this one just arrived a week ago, he was the run of the litter and therefore someone decided to leave him on the side if the road. Lucky we found him, hopefully he can make for a lovely Christmas present.”
Lucas wasn’t paying any attention to the man and was in fact watching as Riley knelt in front of the dog with a excited look on her face. Lucas already knew this was the one. Riley looks up at his face and smiles “Lucas can we keep him pleaseeeeee?”
Lucas shakes his head and as he goes to get his wallet out “How much?” And within an hour Riley was carrying their new puppy Leo into the house. Lucas placed his keys on the table while Leo squirmed from underneath his arm.
“Ok let’s go and find mummy.” Lucas placed Leo on the ground and Leo darted off towards the lounge room, so Lucas followed and stops short when he sees the mess.
There are lights and tinsel everywhere, red and green cover almost everything and there standing on a wobbly ladder on her tiptoes trying her hardest to place a star on top of the tree was Riley.
“RILES!? Lucas yelled as he dashed over to help her.
He quickly grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him.
“Babe, can you help me put the star on the tree?” She asked.
Lucas frowned “Babe you are heavily pregnant why didn’t you wait until I got home to do this?” Riley shrugged her shoulders as Lucas placed the star on the tree. “I am just too excited. Lucas this is out first Christmas as a married couple, with Leo and out last Christmas before the baby arrives. I just wanted everything to be pretty for when you came home.”
Lucas smiled as he jumped down from the ladder and wrapped his arms around Riley, placing a soft kiss on her lips.
They are soon interrupted by four paws running around their feet and Lucas laughs as he bends down to pick Leo up.
“Leo thinks so too.” Riley giggled as Lo licked her face.
“What do you say we out on our coat and mittens, wrap Leo up and take him for a walk to see the lights and to get some hit chocolate?”