#have read enough fics to make an english teacher unsure if they should be proud or horrified

[transingthoseformers]

At what point does a hyperfixation turn into a soecial interest /gen

Because I've been in the transformers fandom for threeish years now and know way too goddamn much

[ssscentral]

Devil like you

Summary: Your boyfriend has a revelation about who - or what - he really is as he invites over a friend to have some earth-shattering, toe-curling, out of this world fun with you. 

Pairing : Demon!Namjoon x Reader x Demon! Jimin

Genre : Smut. Pure filth. It be dirty.

Warnings : Threesome, Demon summoning, Overstimulation, Swearing, Restraints, Surprise your boyfriend is a demon, Dom!Namjoon, Dom!Jimin, Sub!Reader, Light Edging, Dirty Talking, Oral Sex (f and m), Fingering

WC : 5.5k

Member : Duda || @biaswreckme​​

A/N : Hope you enjoy reading this, i’m quite proud of it :v It’s my first AU for BTS, so be gentle T.T This fic is the second part of the group prompt “Hell of a Ride”, each part with our own interpretation, so stay tuned because there is more to come! Any similarities with Supernatural are not coincidental, thank you Spn wikis for the words in Latin and the inspiration for some of the abilities of these demons. And thanks so much @fluffy-fluffu​ for being the beta ♥

taglist: @sugasbabiie​

—————

You thought you should have known. You thought you should have seen the signs – and there were quite a few, thinking back on your relationship. It should not have surprised you like this. It should not have affected you like this. It should not make you wish for more, waiting for the next time it would happen. It should not… you should not… you should not want this as much as you did, right?

You should have seen it coming. It should not have caught you off guard like that, after all, who teaches this language with this much ease and what seems like almost natural and native knowledge? That should have been the first sign to strike your attention. He was not the first Latin professor in the language department at this university, but he was the best. But this department has a lot of languages, and Latin is part of the curriculum for some of the other languages. It was not weird to have a Latin professor. It was weird to have someone as hot as Namjoon teaching Latin. Hot, gods, you sound like a teenager again talking about boys and crushes. But yes, Kim Namjoon, one of the hottest teachers in the university – and it is a big one – teaches a dead language.

So when he asked you, the English teacher – not the only one in the department and you did not consider yourself to be one of the best-looking teachers there – out on a date, you said yes. It had been a while for you, issues with an ex left you being cautious about entering new relationships. It made you pay more attention to certain red flags, but there were none with Namjoon, at least not like those from before.

Kim Namjoon was considerate. Kim Namjoon was creative with his dates. Kim Namjoon was a romantic man, one that had you indeed feeling like a teenager dating for the first time, sneaking around the empty halls and classrooms, the butterflies in your stomach wild and making you giggle at the mere thought of him. Kim Namjoon paid attention to you and your problems. Kim Namjoon listened. And Kim Namjoon was great when it came to sex. Great actually did not really translate how incredible and mind-blowing sex with him was. He knew how to do things to your body like no one ever could before. He suggested some things – some kinky, oh, very kinky things indeed – to spice up the sex that you had only fantasized about but never had the courage to ask for, and he did not judge anything. It was almost as if his mission in bed was to give you utmost pleasure, even if it hurt sometimes – but it always hurt so good. Kim Namjoon was the perfect boyfriend. Maybe too perfect, so you think to yourself that you had ought to know better. No one could be this perfect. There had to be an explanation. And there was. You just never would have imagined that it would be this explanation.

The day had started just like any other, there was nothing special about it, at least to your knowledge. So why, oh, why did it have to be on this day? (Maybe you could ask them later.) You woke up to your alarm, as usual. You love your job, but you always found it difficult to get up this early in the mornings, so you always made sure to set more than one alarm. You got up, had breakfast – “breakfast” is a very general word, but you do eat a piece of toast while the coffee machine warms up. You had a shower, just a quick one to truly wake you up and get you going before getting dressed in your usual teaching outfit. Namjoon would be coming over later, so you would have time to shower again and get dressed up for date night after getting back from the university. You grab a travel mug on the way out, pouring the hot coffee in it, the smell invading your apartment just as you like it.

The classes go on without any issue; a slight problem with the projector in the beginning but nothing out of the ordinary and that would strike one’s attention, especially if one was used to dealing with the projectors in that older building the languages and literature department was stuck with. You crossed paths with Namjoon once the entire day, walking down the hallways of the old building; you were getting out of an English literature class, Joon going to teach his Latin II group. As your bodies got closer, both of you nodded in acknowledgment as if you were any other professor, but your hands discreetly touched in passing, just a small sign you had agreed on to let the other know everything is okay, have a good class, I love you, I will be waiting for you later. You knew he was going out on a field trip with an advanced class and he would have to leave during lunch, so you ate a sandwich in your office, watching some comedy series to relax and get energized for the rest of the day – of course, the hot and new cup of coffee helps -, every once in a while, pausing to chat with the other professor who chose to do something similar. The afternoon is not really that different from other Friday afternoons; no one usually comes during office hours, so no one came on this day. You spent your time alternating between counting the minutes on the ticking clock to be able to go home and get ready for the date and responding to some emails, starting the term report, and downloading some articles to read. You were alone in the office, so you have some music going to help distract you and try to make the time go by faster.

When you finally got home the first thing you did was hop on the shower again, but now taking some time for yourself, phone blasting your favorite songs as you washed the day away from your body, cleaning, shaving what you wanted, moisturizing with some shower oils Namjoon gave you and that you know he loved the scent of. You spent some time choosing your outfit for the evening, knowing it had to be good. You opted for a white lace and silk playsuit, the new lingerie that Namjoon had recently given you, and you knew it had to be expensive from the brand – expensive and fancy lingerie was a guilty pleasure you had that somehow Namjoon was able to indulge, and you had no complaints about it. It gave you an almost innocent look under the black dress, and you were curious to see Namjoon’s reaction. You did not do much for hair and makeup, choosing instead to keep it quite simple and natural – it was only going to be ruined later on anyways.

Soon you heard the bell ring and you looked at the small monitor near the door, letting him in. His hair was slicked back, giving him an edge that was not present in day-to-day life at university. He had his earrings on and paired up with his silver-rimmed glasses and that black blazer made him look unbelievably hot and so different from the pristine almost clumsy-like image of Professor Kim. He kissed you, murmuring a hi in the kiss, letting his hands roam over your dress. He paused and stepped back enough to look at you.

“Are you wearing the new gift?”

It only took a nod from you to have him pressing you against the wall, hitching your leg up and around his waist. His hands took advantage of the position and touched your skin, going up your thighs and bunching up your dress in the way, giving him access to feel the lace and silk on your body.

“Fuck,” he paused, almost breathless, “fuck the reservation, right? I need you now.”

You nodded in affirmation, almost as out of breath as him, “Fuck the reservation, fuck me instead.”

He didn’t need anything else to press you even harder against the wall, hoisting both of your legs; you wrapped them around his body, and he pushed his hips into yours, you could feel how hard he already was. You moaned into the kiss, his hardness was right against where you needed it the most, and when he started slightly moving his hips into yours, it made his length deliciously drag against your clit. The feeling was also enhanced by the lingerie; every time Namjoon canted his hips up, it made the lingerie move up together and tug on your skin, and it did not take long until it was snugged between your nether lips and you were certain you were staining the front of Namjoon’s pants with your wetness as he started nibbling on your earlobe, sucking and kissing your neck, the skin caught between his teeth to make sure it would leave bruises. And then he let you go, dropping your legs from around his body.

“Do you trust me?” He looked into your eyes, seeming unsure, which was unlike him. You could swear that his eyes got darker for a brief moment – and not in the way writers usually describe, with eyes darkening with pleasure or something akin to that. No, it seemed that they physically turned darker, almost black, but you thought you must be imagining things. It could not be humanly possible.

“I trust you, Joon.” You said without any hesitation, fingers entangling with his and taking him in the direction of your bedroom.

He started by taking off his glasses and carefully putting them on the wooden nightstand, taking a minute to take off his blazer and carefully drape it over the piece of furniture. He then turned to you and you felt nervous, his walk almost predatory towards you. He gripped your shoulders, taking the straps of your dress into his hands, and it felt like he was considering just ripping the piece out of your body and your breath faltered. So this was the mood today. But he must have thought better and let his hands caress the front of your body, squeezing your breasts, his fingers then gliding over your clothed nipples, feeling them harder under his touch. His hands moved down, grabbing the edge of your dress in his fists and then lifted it up and off your body, and then you were there, standing in front of him, the white lace and silk that covered your skin seemed almost virginal when contrasted with the current mood. You bit your lip, looking at Namjoon, gaging his reaction, and you saw his eyes widen, a smirk crossing his lips, his tongue unconsciously poking out to lick his top lip. There was a different look in his eyes, one that you did not recognize at all, and you were getting slightly more nervous now. What did he have in store for you this time? You tried to think back to conversations you had, discussing ideas in between cuddles and kisses on the bed, after one of the times you had some passionate lovemaking, his eyes glued to yours the entire time, his body encompassing yours, protecting you. Not every time was kinky, but there was no doubt tonight was going to be. You took a deep breath and stepped forward, your fingers going to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, slowly, your fingers shaking in anticipation.

“Remember when we were talking about maybe having another person in the bedroom with us?”

His question took you by surprise, your fingers stopping mid-action, and you looked at him. “Yes?”

“You are going to learn some things about me tonight, Y/n, but you don’t need to be scared.” He grabbed your hands, intertwining your fingers and kissing them while looking into your eyes. “I promise everything will be okay, and I’ll answer all your questions later. Now I just want you to enjoy yourself.”

And ok, now you were worried, and he could see that in your face, so he brought you closer to his body, hugging you, and your arms tightened around his body.

“You don’t have to be scared, love. It can be scary, but have I ever hurt you?”

“Well…” you started, giggling at the double possibilities to answer his question.

“I’m talking about real harm, Y/n. And might I remind you, who asked to be spanked again?” He chuckled, shaking his head, the mood getting a little lighter. “I can’t promise it’s not going to frighten you at first but keep an open mind. You have your safeword, you can stop this at any time, no matter what.”

“Ok. I can’t promise I won’t fear whatever it is… because you are scaring me a little bit, Joon. But I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me like that.” You raised your head from where it was resting on his chest, looking into his eyes again, and this time you could not be mistaken. They were black. Like black black; you could not see any of the previous colors in his irises, even the sclera was taken over by the color, and it hit you. You took a quick step back, letting go of his body, shocked. Was… was this real?

“I’m still me,” his voice was soft and his hands raised by his sides in that universal sign of I’m not going to hurt you. “It’s always been me.”

“So you’re not… possessed?” you laughed in disbelief.

“No. It’s always been me,” he repeated, taking one step closer to you with one of his hands reaching out, and hesitantly you grabbed it. “Let me show you. I promise you will have a good time.”

Your body was still shaking with fear when you let yourself get closer to him, but his words were starting to reassure you, calm you. If he had always been like this and never harmed you, you would be okay, right? The fear and worry were slowly starting to give way to curiosity and some slight confusion when he started muttering some words under his breath. Now, you did not understand Latin – it was a dead language, come on –, but you were able to pick up that he was almost chanting in it, words like te invoco, spiritus, infernalis, and daemon being spoken with more intensity. He finished saying it and kissed you deeply, his arms encircling your body and pulling you to him, when you suddenly felt another presence behind you, a second body pressing against you, feeling a hard chest pressing you into Namjoon even more. You stopped the kiss, looking over your shoulder, and your eyes stumbled upon another black-eyed figure. This man, this demon, was shorter than Namjoon, but with the way the front of his body was glued to your back, you could feel he was just as muscular, maybe even more, from what you were feeling from his thighs. There were no words for his face. You thought Namjoon was handsome, but this man’s face was on a whole other level of beauty, with those rounded full lips that would give Namjoon’s a run for their money. If it were not for his black eyes you would dare say his face was angelic even, with his light-colored hair parted in the middle. But something about the smirk and raised eyebrows let you know that there was nothing angelic about him.

“Damn, Namjoon. You’ve been hiding her this entire time?” He almost growled, shifting his hips, and you felt the hardness in his pants. “If I’d known, I’d have come sooner.”

“And this is Jimin, Y/n,” he started, scoffing at his… friend? “Now close your eyes and let us take care of you.”

He did not wait for an answer from you, and at the same time his lips found yours, you felt Jimin’s lips on your neck and his hands on your waist, and you could only sigh, close your eyes, and give into these new sensations. The two pairs of hands were roaming your body; the contrast of their clothed bodies against yours, almost naked, was heightening the sensation of your powerlessness, and you had to press your thighs together in an attempt to bring some pressure to your center and relieve some of the aching. You could feel their smirks when you did it, and then Jimin’s hand traveled downwards and on the front of your body, his fingers sneaking under the lingerie to feel your wetness.

“Fuck,” his voice was almost strained, “she’s dripping, Namjoon.” His fingers went all over your mound spreading your wetness around, careful to not touch you for too long to tease you.

“Is this right, Y/n?” Namjoon asked against your lips, then tilted his head back to look at you, his hand joining Jimin’s. “I know you get wet for me, but if I had known you would be dripping like this, I would have brought Jimin much sooner.” He stated as his fingers toyed with the straps of your playsuit, slowly lowering them. “And you are wearing this, today of all days… all in white…”

Namjoon’s fingers teased your nipples lightly at first, just caressing them while Jimin slowly lowered the lingerie down your body, giving open-mouthed kisses to your back and lower and he went down on his knees behind you. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back and grabbing Namjoon’s biceps for balance when Jimin lifted your left feet first then the right, letting the playsuit fall to the ground off your body. You felt a pinch to your nipples, and you sighed, and shortly after you felt his tongue circling it, then his mouth sucking on it, tugging lightly with his teeth. You clenched your legs again, only for Jimin to spread them. You felt Jimin’s breath on your backside, and his hands made you arch your back so he could see you better from behind, but you felt nothing else but his warm breath very close to your center, his hands gripping your thighs from the inside to stop you from closing them. When Namjoon used the fatal combination of pinching down on a nipple harder and biting the other and sucking on it, Jimin chuckled.

“Do that again, Namjoon. She liked it, she just clenched down on nothing so hard.” His mouth was so close to you yet doing nothing, and to worsen the situation, he used his hands to help you spread your legs more. “Tilt your ass towards me, Y/n, I want to see you clench like that again.”

You did so without hesitation, arching your back more so he could see you better, and when Namjoon did it again, inverting touch and bite to the other nipple, you clenched again, needing their touch, needing something. And he combined pulling your nipple with his teeth with his other hand entangling in your hair and pulling it down hard, increasing your arch. You heard Jimin chuckle softly again and then his mouth was pressed to your inner thigh, licking upwards as he moaned, probably tasting the wetness that had started dripping. Namjoon was not being gentle anymore, using the amount of pressure and strength he knew you loved, much rougher than when you were making love, your nipples becoming more sensitive and abused under his ministrations. This moment, with his lips around your nipples, his teeth worrying them, while Jimin licked your thighs, was pure and unadulterated passion and desire. You let one of your hands fall to grab Jimin’s hair to try and direct him, but he let one of your thighs go to wrap his fingers around your wrist while he bit down on your thigh. You moaned in pain, but you loved it.

Your other hand moved from Namjoon’s biceps to the front of his shirt to undo the few buttons that were left, and he paused what he was doing to help you. When you went to unbutton his pants, you felt your arm being pinned to your back by the demon between your legs. You looked back and down, seeing Jimin licking his lips again while he got up. He pulled you against his body, murmuring that tonight was about you and not to worry about them. As he said these words, Namjoon’s long fingers undid his own pants, hooking them under his underwear to take them off at the same time. His erection slapped softly against his stomach, his cock long and thick, the bulbous head already a little wet with precum. He stepped out of his pants, his strong thighs flexing, and he came closer to kiss you again, letting you feel his hardness against your belly. He started to pull you towards the bed, turning your bodies so you could fall against the mattress with him on top, but he did not stay long. He got up, looking at Jimin, and raised his eyebrows.

“You look so innocent like this, wide-eyed looking at us about to devour you,” Jimin started, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, putting on a show for you.

The dark shirt Jimin was wearing opened to reveal toned muscles beneath, ones you had already felt against your back. His light purple hair was slightly messy from your attempt to grab it; his lips were turned up into a corner smile observing the way you were watching him. He let his hands caress down his body, feeling his own muscles, his luscious lips open now. One of his hands went to the button of his pants and the other grabbed his crotch, showing you the outline of his erection, and then he took the black garment off, and he was wearing no underwear. His hand went to his erection again, stroking himself up and down slowly, showing you his body and how proud he seemed of it. His cock was just as beautiful as the rest of him, the head a light pink color, and while he was thinner than Namjoon, he was just as long and curved upwards, and it made you wonder if he could hit that spot without much effort.

“We are going to destroy you, and you will take it all. You will be lying there on the bed, ruined, a sinner, and in the end, you will be begging for me to come back again and wreck you.” Jimin’s voice was deeper, his black eyes shining under the lights and the promise. And then he looked at Namjoon. “Have you done it yet?”

You looked confused for a moment, especially when Namjoon answered a no and Jimin chuckled. And then you understood. Jimin snapped his fingers and your arms were suddenly above your head, pressed on the pillow. You tried moving them but to no avail. Oh. Your chest went up and down quickly, your breath faster, but you smiled.

“Oh, this is new. Can you do it too, Joon?” You needed to know. Had he been hiding this from you this whole time? He licked his lips and snapped his fingers, and then your legs were up, an invisible force holding them up and wide open, spread apart for them. You bit your lip and clenched down on nothing, moaning softly, your head thrown back into the pillow. “This is fun.”

You smiled at them and saw them looking at each other smiling as well, but you could not even imagine what was going through their minds. Could they communicate like that? You had so many questions to ask Joon later, but before your mind could wander any further, your body was being dragged to the edge of the bed by Jimin, who was kneeling on the floor in front of it. You had never felt so exposed before and so without control, although you knew all you had to say was that one word and everything would end.

“She tastes delicious, Jimin. You’re going to love it.” Namjoon sat by you on the bed, looking down at the other man, and lowered his head to whisper in your ear, “you want to know another thing I’ve been hiding? We don’t get tired.”

Namjoon bit your earlobe at the same time that Jimin licked you where you needed the most, from bottom to top. You could only moan loudly and arch your back, your fingers closing into tight a fist and your thighs clenching, but you could not move them. You thought he would make you beg for it, considering all the teasing from before, but he wasted no time and started applying pressure to your clit with his soft tongue, short circular movements alternated with longer licks while his fingers kept your lower lips spread open for him. Unable to move, all you could do was take it, the pleasure intensified by your inability to move your legs; there was no escape from Jimin’s tongue on the underside of your clit, its hood up, leaving it exposed and so sensitive to his probing. While Jimin was doing this, Namjoon began playing with your nipples again. They were already hard and a little red from before, more sensitive, so when he started pinching them again the pain seemed to go straight down to your clit, enhancing your pleasure, and he seemed to know this. He became relentless in teasing them, pinching harder, lowering his body beside you to bite at them, tugging on your nipples and pulling them, letting his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin. Jimin’s tongue was also relentless on your clit, and the first time he felt you getting close to your orgasm, he stopped and looked at you.

“Please, please…” you sobbed and moaned; the desperation clear in your voice as Namjoon did not stop.

“Should we see if she can cum only by teasing her nipples?” Jimin’s voice was playful.

“No, please, please, no, please,” you begged.

“Oh, Namjoon, she begs so beautifully. But is it a no or is it a please, do it?” His tongue was between his teeth, his smile wider now, the look on his face pure teasing. You shook your head negatively, a sob caught in your throat, but he continued, “You’re clenching again, Y/n. I think you can do this. But maybe another day,” you let out a sigh in relief, “another day, when we will tease you for hours, edge you until even our breath will make you cum, how about that?”

Jimin wasted no more time and got back to licking you, making out with your pussy, encompassing it entirely with his mouth, and the moment his lips closed around your clit to suck it, you lost it. It took you by surprise; the sensation usually begins with a slight tingle on your belly, and then it spreads to your fingers, but this time your whole body clenched as pleasure overtook you, his tongue continuing to press on your clit while he sucked to prolong your orgasm. You did not know what sounds came out of your mouth, as your ears seemed to be ringing, numb to sounds. You could barely murmur out a weak stop, but he ignored it – which also relieved you, you did not really want to stop–, choosing to insert a finger and then two into you, moving them in and out at first and then pressing them upwards, looking for the spot inside you that made you see stars. You were about to say you were too sensitive for him to continue when he found it, and as you moaned loudly you heard Namjoon say something to him, but you couldn’t understand what it was, but Jimin’s response was to increase the pressure of his fingers and let your clit go. You were confused for a second but you soon understood when you felt one of Namjoon’s hands moving down, his fingers then making quick movements on your clit, knowing it was what you needed to get you there fast again. This time you felt the sensation growing, a tingling on the tips of your fingers, your toes, as it grew and permeated your entire body again. You thought they would relent, and then you remembered what Namjoon had said. They did not get tired.

You lost count after the fifth orgasm, or so you thought it was the fifth; your voice was hoarse from moaning and your clit was so sensitive from all of the overstimulation, and they did not seem like they wanted to stop anytime soon. You could feel the tears that had escaped your eyes wetting your cheeks, and every once in a while, one of them would lick them away while the other continued his assault on your clit, the pleasure relentlessly taking over you again and again. You did not know anymore when one orgasm ended and the other began, the tingling sensation a constant on your entire body. And then, finally, they snapped their fingers again, releasing your body from the invisible restraints.

You could barely move, but they helped shift and turn your body until you were on your hands and knees, Namjoon’s body behind you. You heard the sound of a small foil packet being opened, and then he was pressing inside you, his cock stretching you even though they had used their fingers before. It was always a stretch, Namjoon going in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size before starting to thrust his hips into you. On his first thrust forward, you opened your mouth on a moan and Jimin took advantage of the opportunity to press his cock into your lips, holding your hair with one of his hands while the other was at the base of his cock, holding and moving it to go over your lips. You licked around his engorged head and then opened your mouth wider, taking him inside and sucking. You could barely keep your body upright, so soon your hands faltered, and you fell to your elbows, the dip in your spine changing the angle slightly and it had Namjoon pressing into that one spot that had you almost screaming. Jimin lowered his body, sitting down with his legs open to fit you between them, inclining his body backward, bending his elbows to have a good view of you, and it made it easier for you to suck him. His view was nice, your body bent forward, your ass being held by Namjoon’s hands while he pounded into you, but your view was not bad at all.

Jimin’s muscly thighs flexed each time he pressed his hips up, fucking into your mouth, his abs clenching, and his face… his face, dark black eyes half-closed, mouth open in a sly smile, licking his full lips still wet with your taste. You maintained eye contact while you sucked him, bobbing your head up and down, sucking hard when his head was about to leave your mouth, and when you went down, you let your tongue lick the underside. It was sloppy, saliva leaving your mouth, making him wetter and easier for your hand to help whatever did not fit your mouth. You were moaning around him, figuring he would like it as much as Namjoon did, and you were rewarded with high pitched moans from Jimin, his head now thrown back. On a hard suck downwards you felt his thighs clench and his release spill on your mouth at the same time Namjoon played with your clit, and you screamed and soon saw nothing else.

You did not know how long you were out, but when you came to your senses again you were lying on your front, covered by your blanket, and Jimin was nowhere in sight. You heard footsteps entering the room just when you raised your head and saw Namjoon with a cold bottle of water and pants on. He smiled tentatively at you, sitting by your side on the bed. He helped you sit, propped up against him, and you took the bottle from his hands, feeling thirsty.

“Hey,” his voice was almost shy, so different from before and from the usual Namjoon. Well, the Namjoon you thought you knew. “Are you ok?”

You nodded, smiling softly at him between sips. You looked around and then looked at him, the question clear in your eyes.

“Hm, Jimin’s gone now. He helped clean you up and left, we… we did not know if you wanted him here for the after. Or if at all. Or… if you still wanted me.”

It was strange, seeing this difference in him. Namjoon was so confident, especially in the bedroom, and after finding out the truth about him, you could not imagine he would ever be this timid.

“I still want you, Joon,” you could barely speak, but you wanted to reassure him, hugging him tightly. He needed you at this moment as much as you needed him. “I just have some questions, but I still love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n. And I’ll answer whatever you want.” He was eager to respond, his relief apparent in his voice.

“The first question is… can we have fun with Jimin again another time?”

[its-peach-bleach]

An Abundance Of Everything That Starts With "L"

The birthday fic nobody was asking for, but you can read it on AO3 here

When Yuuri opens his eyes, it feels like a normal day.

He clicks his tongue annoyed at the loud, overly cheerful ringtone of his phone and squints at the bright screen as turns the alarm off. Sighing, he stares at the familiar ceiling of his room and for a second he feels reverted to back when he was unsure about what to do with his future, what the next day would bring.

With a sudden clearly that drives away the remaining hazy sleepiness Yuuri realizes that today, he‘s a year older.

25.

That‘s not old. Most people would call him young. The average lifespan of a man is 80, so now Yuuri has only lived a quarter of his whole life. But somehow it feels like he already lived his most important, most rewarding and exciting years.

Soon, way quicker than anyone will think because building something takes so much more time than destroying it and seeing in collapse into dust, there will be more cracking joints and hurting knees, and his pale bend body will be so battered from all the excessive amount of training training training and also living that it will be useless for the thing he loves. For the man he loves.

He sits up and closes his eyes, trying to breathe. The pulse in his temples is overpowering, and it feels like his lungs are caving on his heart, squeezing it in a hot grip he can‘t escape.

He tries to take a deep breath, tries to be cautious of the air in his lungs and hold it in, and even though he knows it‘s there, has to be there because he can feel it stroking over his opened mouth, it feels shallow and empty. It feels like drinking water while starving.

Not enough, not helping, not satisfying.

It‘s okay.

Yuuri closes his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest, and he listens in the quietness of his room to his breathing, dismantling the sensations one by one. His window is cracked and cold air is streaming in and it’s giving him goosebumps. His body is fine and safe and warm. His hands on his knees are too hot. It’s still dark outside. It‘s 6 am. He‘s in his room. Wait, he isn‘t- he‘s in their room. If he would turn the light on Yuuri would see Viktor‘s suitcase at the foot of the bed. He‘s safe. If he would bury his face in his pillow, he would smell the sweet expensive fragrance of Viktor‘s perfume, and he could see the marks he left on Viktor‘s body.

He‘s fine.

There are countless notifications on his phone that make his anxiety flare up again, because it‘s so much to do, but he tries not to think about it and instead focus on his body, on his breathing as he walks into the bathroom.

Yuuri never particularly liked his birthday.

Especially when he was younger it always meant one thing: Puberty. He remembers feeling his own growing body with his too tight skin, remember the silvery and purplish stretchmarks from growing so ridiculously fast, remembers the growing pains and the mood swings and the times his family knocked worriedly on the bathroom door.

And of course he also remembers the countless failed jumps that weren‘t his strong point to begin with, remembers bruises and crying and awkwardness that felt like it confined his whole self into this compact overly cautious boy with glasses that left imprints on his still chubby cheeks.

In a sense, he‘ll going through a second round of puberty when he‘s older. But instead of being build up and becoming tall and strong his body will dismantle itself slowly, like the crumbling dust from ruins, or the way Viktor sheds his jinbei over his pale shoulders.

It will be achingly slow.

Yuuri doesn‘t like his birthday.

When he gets up and brushes his teeth, he‘s suddenly reminded of the birthdays in Detroit, thinks of surprise parties in the dark, how he was too shy to say no to expensive gifts, remembers the Skype calls with his family and how they all looked so tiny and unreal and how his heart ached with homesickness.

And when he undresses he feels worry clenching uncomfortably in his gut, and the fact that he even worries makes him feel guilty.

Yuuri knows that Viktor can be too much sometimes, and he loves his dramatic sides.

Loves it when he sighs and puts the back of his hand to his forehead like a victorian woman in a too tight corset, loves it when he pretends to get weak in the knees so Yuuri gives him a piggy back ride and how he whispers filthy things in his ear then, his hot breath tickling him, loves how he pretends to be shocked and his loud gasp.

And yet he‘s still afraid that whatever Viktor has planned will be so over the top that it‘s simply too much. He knows how Viktor loves to spoil him, knows all about that wonderful tenderness when he washes Yuuri‘s hair or how he smiles when he puts lip balm on Yuuri‘s lips. But there is this strange vulnerability that comes with birthdays, comes with getting older and all Yuuri wants is quietness and maybe drinking with his friends and family in the evening.

When Yuuri walks down the corridor he hears faint giggling and then small feet patter over wooden flooring. Yuuri bites his lip, not managing to suppress his smile. He tries to walk down the stairs as slowly as possibly to give the others a few more seconds.

There‘s soft yellow lighting that makes the stairs in front of him barely visible. His socks touch the floor, and it makes a creaking sound.

Yuuri breathes and looks up.

Yuuko beams at him while Nishigori tries to hold all triples in his arms at once. It reminds Yuuri so much of when they were kids, teenagers and now even adults because after years and years they’re still together. His breath gets stuck in his throat.

Mari smiles and even her little dimple in her right cheek shows, and the fact that she even woke up this terribly early just for him moves him.

Minako is also smiling at Yuuri, and she even went through the trouble of straightening her hair. For what feels like the first time Yuuri notices faint lines around her smiling mouth and the crinkles around her eyes, and somehow it seems like she was too proud to age and only allows it on special occasions. Now, Minako isn‘t his ballet teacher, but his second mother.

The lines of her face are mirrored in the faces of his parents, and in all their shining, loving glory Yuuri sees himself and sees his future and it‘s scary until it isn‘t, because they‘re happy and it‘s so amazingly tangible he just has to reach his hands out and grasp it.

Yuuri knows he caused a lot of these lines and crinkles. Some out of anger, others out of sadness but also laughter. They‘re the testimony of his life.

He left his marks on these people just how they left theirs on him.

In the midst of them all is Viktor.

Lovely, gorgeous Viktor as he smiles softly, and he can feel the gazes of his loved ones and they‘re happy and smiling, and he‘s so overwhelmed with love that the barely perceives all the congratulations.

After everyone hugged him tightly, Viktor suddenly clears his throat.

„So,“ he says as his eyes flicker almost nervously, „Yuuri, I know you don‘t like fancy gifts and I was debating for a long time what I should get you, but through the help of your amazing family and friends we could- make something I hope you‘ll enjoy.“

Viktor smiles then, and when Yuuri sees it he‘s alarmed for a split-second because it looks so similar to his fake smile. But then again, it doesn‘t. There‘s something strange and new in his face, a vulnerability and nervousness in the line of his shoulders and mouth, and Yuuri can‘t tell why until Viktor unfolds a piece of paper.

He takes a deep, shaky breath in the dimly lit room.

„Yuuri,“ he says, „You‘re my fiance, my love and my light, my everything.“

He stares at Viktor with wide eyes. Slowly he turns his head and looks at the others, all of them wearing the same proud, mischievous smile.

How could he not realize that Viktor was learning Japanese?

Now all the glances and the whispering and all the times Viktor needed to be alone make so much more sense.

„Surprisingly, it‘s not that easy to write this letter because I just have so much to tell you. There are so many things I admire about you Yuuri, and I think they all have in common that they all show how you‘re so full of strength. Before I met you, I used to think that I was strong, independent, and it felt like the only thing that could ever stop me was myself. But Yuuri, you‘re strong without shutting everyone out. You found strength in relying on others if you need to, and I love that you know what you want and always do your best to accomplish your goals.“

A thing Yuuri somehow completely forgot was how big the differences between English and Japanese actually are. After years of speaking it daily he got used to it, speaks and thinks and loves in English, and it‘s a part of him, natural like air. That‘s what he thought at least. But all the fine nuances of Japanese that just got lost in the English language are right there, on Viktor‘s tongue, with a Russian accent and only for him.

„You‘re sincere and strong, and you‘re stubborn and determined to the point that it almost scares me because I can‘t keep up. Now I understand why Yakov was always this stressed.“ Besides Yuuri, his mother laughs wetly and squeezes his hand, a silent confirmation.

„I didn‘t know at first what to think of you because you were so different from the time at the banquet- but over time, I realized that this was not the real, not the usual you. You were shy and insecure and skittish and anxious, and so much more real than I ever hoped you‘d be.“ Viktor sniffles and yet smiles as he wipes a stray tear away.

„You‘re see-through, Yuuri. You do everything so sincerely, so genuinely and with a strength that most people maybe don’t immediately see, but it‘s there. And I can‘t thank you enough for letting me in and letting your walls down and that- that you saved my passion, my career. Me. You‘re so greedy for life Yuuri, and there are not enough words to express just how happy I am that I can help you reach the things you want. There‘s nothing left to say except:

I love you.“

This is unfair, Yuuri thinks and wipes frantically on his face, his glasses pushed up into his hair. It‘s unfair hat Viktor gets to say all these amazing things, can just dismantle him so carefully like pulling loose threads apart. He sobs, and he knows he‘s not being quiet at all but when he looks up he sees his mom clutching the jumper of his dad tightly, their shoulders shaking, and Nishigori hides his face in the soft hair of one of his daughters.

„Viktor,“ Yuuri sobs, and then with even more desperation “Vitya,” trembling fingers outstretched to finally pull him close, to kiss him, to mutter words back to him that can hopefully make him come undone in the same way.

„I‘m not done yet,“ Viktor says and smiles, eyes swimming in tears.

He takes another shaky breath, and his smile trembles so much that it breaks your heart.

„Mama, papa, I want to thank you for giving me Yuuri and for being there for him and supporting him without a second thought, and I- I want to take care of him just the way you did. I promise I‘ll make him happy.“ Viktor is crying so much his shoulders shake and his chin scrunches up in childlike desperation.

„Mari, I want to thank you for being such a wonderful big sister and protecting him. And Minako for being his teacher and giving him all the time he needed to practice, for believing in him and encouraging to skate because otherwise we wouldn‘t even have met. And I want to thank the Nishigori family for being such an amazing support and a lovely family and being his closest friends, and of course for uploading the video of Yuuri.“

Yuuri rushes forward and kisses Viktor, all soft pliantness on his mouth, and he tries to savor the taste until he‘ll even remember this when he‘s 80, or 90 or even 100. There‘s this kind of desperation that comes with tears and candlelight, and Yuuri never felt more treasured in his life than in this everlasting moment.

Sadly, time moves on and they part, have to part because his mom is bringing the birthday cake in, and the sizzling of the sparklers sounds like fizzy soda as it flickers over the whole room, and Yuuri is again overwhelmed with this almost tangible feeling of love, and it feels like he can just press it close and oh how he wants.

„Happy birthday!“

Yuuri laughs wetly, and Viktor presses a kiss to his temple.

Before he blows the candles out he locks eyes with Viktor, watches the gleam of his face and the wonderful crinkling of the corners of his mouth, and for the first time in his life, he doesn‘t wish for not falling at a jump in competition, doesn‘t wish for less pain and more medals and more success.

When Yuuri puckers his lips, all he can think of is:

Please you gods, make Viktor happy.