#best time to visit Dubai

[uglyandtraveling]

Why Dubai Is a Top Travel Destination All Year Round

Discover why Dubai UAE is the ultimate year-round destination! From sunny beaches to luxury shopping and thrilling adventures, there's something for everyone in Dubai.

[kids-worldfun]

Best Time to Visit Dubai For Holiday With Family

Hey there, families looking for adventure! Are you dreaming of a holiday filled with sunny skies, incredible buildings, and never-ending fun? Dubai is where all these dreams come true, and guess what? You can find fantastic Dubai holidays that are unforgettable holidays for under £1000! Let’s discover the best time to pack your bags and head to this desert wonderland for a memorable family…

[dxbnewsnetworkblog]

The Best Time to Visit Dubai with Family: A Complete Guide

Dubai, a city that seamlessly fuses modern marvels with cultural treasures, is the ultimate destination for an unforgettable family vacation. But when is the best time to visit Dubai with family? This comprehensive guide will help you plan the perfect trip, ensuring your family enjoys every moment in this captivating city.

Why Dubai is Perfect for a Family Vacation

Dubai is celebrated for its world-class attractions, family-friendly activities, and a safe, welcoming atmosphere. From the towering Burj Khalifa to the expansive Dubai Mall, there is something for everyone. The city also features beautiful beaches, exhilarating desert safaris, and interactive museums, making it an ideal destination for families.

The Best Time to Visit Dubai with Family

November to March: The Ideal Tourist Season

The best time to visit Dubai with family is from November to March. During these months, the weather is pleasantly mild, with temperatures ranging from 20°C to 30°C (68°F to 86°F). This makes outdoor activities more enjoyable. Families can comfortably explore outdoor attractions like the Dubai Miracle Garden and the Global Village. Additionally, the Dubai Shopping Festival, held in January, offers a plethora of entertainment options and discounts, perfect for shopping enthusiasts.

Avoiding the Summer Heat

Dubai’s summer months, from June to September, can be extremely hot, with temperatures soaring above 40°C (104°F). Although many indoor attractions like the Dubai Aquarium and Underwater Zoo are air-conditioned, the intense heat can limit outdoor activities. Therefore, if your family plans to enjoy Dubai's beaches or outdoor markets, it's best to avoid the summer months.

Family-Friendly Activities in Dubai

Must-See Attractions

Burj Khalifa: A Must-Visit Icon

No trip to Dubai is complete without visiting the Burj Khalifa. Families can enjoy breathtaking views from the observation deck on the 148th floor. The interactive displays and informative exhibits make it a fascinating experience for both children and adults.

The Dubai Mall: Beyond Shopping

The Dubai Mall is not just a shopping paradise; it also hosts numerous family-friendly attractions. The Dubai Aquarium and Underwater Zoo offer an up-close look at a variety of marine life. The Dubai Ice Rink and the VR Park provide exciting entertainment options for kids of all ages.

Outdoor Adventures

Dubai Miracle Garden: A Floral Spectacle

Open from November to April, the Dubai Miracle Garden is a must-visit for families. This stunning garden features over 150 million flowers arranged in beautiful patterns and structures, providing a perfect backdrop for family photos.

Desert Safari: A Memorable Experience

A desert safari is a thrilling adventure that showcases Dubai's natural beauty. Families can enjoy dune bashing, camel riding, and traditional Bedouin-style camps. The safari often includes cultural performances and a delicious BBQ dinner, making it a memorable outing for everyone.

Planning Your Family Trip

Accommodation Options

Dubai offers a wide range of family-friendly accommodations to suit different budgets. Many hotels provide amenities such as children's play areas, babysitting services, and family suites. Popular options include Atlantis The Palm, Jumeirah Beach Hotel, and Rove Downtown Dubai.

Travel Tips for Families

Book in Advance: To get the best deals on flights and accommodations, it's advisable to book your trip well in advance, especially if you plan to visit during the peak season.

Stay Hydrated: Dubai's climate can be dry, so make sure to drink plenty of water, especially during outdoor activities.

Dress Appropriately: While Dubai is relatively liberal, it is important to dress modestly, particularly when visiting cultural or religious sites.

Use Public Transport: Dubai’s public transport system, including the metro and buses, is efficient and family-friendly. It can be a convenient and cost-effective way to explore the city.

Discovering Dubai's Culture and Heritage

Historical Sites

Al Fahidi Historical Neighborhood

The Al Fahidi Historical Neighborhood, also known as Al Bastakiya, offers a glimpse into Dubai's past. Families can stroll through the narrow alleyways, visit traditional wind-tower houses, and explore the Dubai Museum, housed in the Al Fahidi Fort.

Dubai Creek: The City's Heartbeat

A visit to Dubai Creek provides an opportunity to experience the city's rich history and culture. Families can take an abra (traditional boat) ride across the creek, explore the bustling souks (markets), and visit the Sheikh Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding.

Experiencing Local Cuisine

Family-Friendly Dining

Dubai's culinary scene is diverse, offering a wide range of family-friendly dining options. From traditional Emirati dishes at Al Fanar Restaurant to international cuisines at The Cheesecake Factory, there is something to satisfy every palate.

Food Festivals and Events

During the cooler months, Dubai hosts several food festivals and events perfect for families. The Dubai Food Festival, usually held in February and March, features food trucks, pop-up restaurants, and cooking demonstrations, providing a fun and delicious experience for all.

Maximizing Your Family Vacation

Tips for a Smooth Trip

Pack Wisely: Bring comfortable clothing, sunscreen, and hats to protect against the sun. Don’t forget to pack swimsuits for the beach and water parks.

Plan Ahead: Research and plan your itinerary to ensure you don’t miss out on any must-see attractions. Booking tickets for popular attractions in advance can save time and avoid long queues.

Stay Flexible: While it's good to have a plan, staying flexible and open to spontaneous activities can lead to unexpected and delightful experiences.

Engaging Activities for Kids

KidZania: Learning Through Play

Located in The Dubai Mall, KidZania is an interactive mini-city where children can role-play various professions. This educational and entertaining experience allows kids to learn about different careers in a fun and engaging environment.

LEGOLAND Dubai: A Theme Park Extravaganza

LEGOLAND Dubai, part of Dubai Parks and Resorts, is designed specifically for families with children aged 2-12. The park features over 40 interactive rides, shows, and attractions, making it a perfect destination for a day of fun and excitement.

Conclusion

Visiting Dubai with family can be a magical and memorable experience. By choosing the best time to visit Dubai with family, you can fully enjoy the city's incredible attractions and activities. Whether exploring iconic landmarks, enjoying outdoor adventures, or immersing yourself in the local culture, Dubai offers endless opportunities for family fun and adventure. Start planning your trip today and create unforgettable memories with your loved ones in this vibrant and dynamic city.

[carylee1]

The best time to visit Dubai is from November to February, with pleasant temperatures, a lively atmosphere, and events like the Dubai Shopping and Food Festivals and the Dubai World Cup. Learn more at https://www.oneair.ai/flights/cheap-flights-to-dubai-uae/

[besttimetogo2]

The Best Time to Go on Vacation: Finding the Perfect Time for Your Getaway

Planning a vacation can be an exciting yet overwhelming experience, especially when deciding on the best time to go on vacation. The timing of your trip can significantly impact your experience, from the weather and crowds to costs and activities available. While there's no universal answer, understanding the factors that affect travel decisions can help you choose the ideal time for your next adventure.

 Consider the Weather

When planning a vacation, the weather plays a crucial role in determining the best time to go. If you're heading to a tropical destination, you may want to avoid the rainy season, as it can affect your plans with heavy showers and storms. Researching the climate patterns of your chosen destination will help you identify the most pleasant months to visit, allowing you to enjoy outdoor activities like hiking, beach lounging, or sightseeing without worrying about extreme weather conditions.

 Avoid Peak Tourist Seasons

Another important factor in determining the best time to go on vacation is the number of tourists in the area. Popular destinations often experience a surge in visitors during peak tourist seasons, such as holidays, school vacations, or summer months. While the attractions and amenities may be fully operational, the crowds can make your experience less enjoyable. Traveling during the shoulder season, which occurs just before or after the peak season, can provide a more peaceful experience with fewer tourists and more affordable accommodation and flight options. This is particularly beneficial if you prefer a more relaxed and intimate vacation atmosphere.

 Budget Considerations

The best time to go on vacation also depends on your budget. Traveling during off-peak times can offer significant savings on flights, accommodations, and activities. Prices tend to rise during high-demand periods, especially during holidays and school breaks. If you're flexible with your travel dates, consider booking during the low season when deals and discounts are more abundant. Many destinations also offer special promotions or reduced rates during certain months, so doing a bit of research on discounts can help you get the most value out of your vacation.

 Special Events and Activities

Certain times of the year offer unique events and festivals that can enhance your vacation experience. Whether it's attending a cultural festival, watching a major sporting event, or experiencing a local tradition, the best time to go on vacation can coincide with these special occasions.

 Conclusion

Ultimately, the best time to go on vacation depends on your personal preferences, budget, and the experiences you want to have. By considering factors like weather, tourist seasons, costs, and special events, you can plan a vacation that suits your ideal getaway. Whether you're looking for perfect weather, fewer crowds, or budget-friendly options, taking the time to choose the right timing can make all the difference in ensuring a memorable and enjoyable trip.

[culturaltoursinegypt]

Cultural Tours in Egypt: Explore History Beyond the Pyramids

While the Pyramids of Giza are undoubtedly one of Egypt’s top attractions, the country offers so much more to explore. From ancient temples to local villages, Egypt is rich in Cultural tours in egypt and history. Here are some cultural tours that offer a deep dive into Egypt’s past and present.

1. The Temples of Abu Simbel Located in southern Egypt, Abu Simbel’s towering statues and intricately carved temples will leave you in awe. A guided tour will provide insights into the history of Ramses II, the pharaoh who had these temples built, and the significance of this archaeological marvel.

2. Siwa Oasis Tour Nestled deep in the Western Desert, Siwa Oasis is one of Egypt’s most tranquil and culturally rich destinations. A guided tour will introduce you to the traditional lifestyle of the Berber people, ancient temples, and natural hot springs, offering a peaceful escape from Egypt’s busier tourist sites.

3. Nubian Village Tour The Nubian people have a unique culture and history that differs from much of Egypt. A cultural tour to the Nubian villages along the Nile River provides a fascinating glimpse into their colorful homes, traditional music, and warm hospitality. You can even take a boat ride to explore the islands near Aswan, where many Nubians reside.

4. The City of Alexandria Founded by Alexander the Great, Alexandria has long been a hub of history, culture, and learning. A guided cultural tour will take you to the ancient Library of Alexandria, the stunning Catacombs of Kom el Shoqafa, and the medieval Qaitbay Citadel, showcasing the city’s layered history.

5. Islamic Cairo Walking Tour For a deep dive into Egypt’s Islamic history, explore the ancient streets of Cairo. The tour will take you through the Al-Hussein Mosque, the historic Al-Azhar University, and Khan El Khalili Bazaar, one of the world’s oldest markets. You’ll experience Cairo's vibrant blend of ancient and modern Islamic culture.

These Cultural tours in egypt offer an immersive experience into Egypt’s rich heritage, giving travelers a deeper appreciation of its diverse history and traditions, far beyond its famous monuments.

[pragatidwivediblogs]

Explore of Dubai A Tour Guide

Dubai, known for its modern architecture, luxury shopping, and vibrant nightlife, is a destination that offers something for everyone. Whether you're a thrill-seeker looking for adventure or a shopaholic seeking the latest trends, Dubai has it all. In this guide, we'll take you through the famous tourist attractions of Dubai, the best season to visit, and the top things to buy in this glamorous city.

Famous Tourist Attractions of Dubai:

Burj Khalifa: The tallest building in the world, Burj Khalifa offers breathtaking views of the city skyline from its observation decks.

The Dubai Mall: One of the largest shopping malls in the world, The Dubai Mall is a shopper's paradise with over 1,200 stores and attractions like the Dubai Aquarium and Underwater Zoo.

The Dubai Fountain: Located outside the Dubai Mall, the Dubai Fountain is a captivating water, light, and music show that mesmerizes spectators.

Palm Jumeirah: An artificial archipelago in the shape of a palm tree, Palm Jumeirah is home to luxurious hotels, private residences, and pristine beaches.

Dubai Marina: A waterfront district lined with skyscrapers, Dubai Marina offers a range of dining, shopping, and entertainment options.

Jumeirah Beach: A popular beach destination, Jumeirah Beach is perfect for sunbathing, swimming, and water sports.

Dubai Creek: A natural seawater inlet, Dubai Creek is a historic area where visitors can take a traditional abra (water taxi) ride and explore the old souks (markets).

The Dubai Museum: Located in the Al Fahidi Fort, the Dubai Museum showcases the history and culture of Dubai through exhibits and artifacts.

Best Season to Visit Dubai:

The best time to visit Dubai is from November to March when the weather is pleasant and ideal for outdoor activities. During this time, you can enjoy clear skies, comfortable temperatures, and a range of outdoor events and festivals.

Best Things to Buy in Dubai:

Gold Jewelry: Dubai is known for its gold souks, where you can find a stunning variety of gold jewelry at competitive prices.

Perfumes: Dubai is famous for its perfumes, which are crafted using traditional Arabian fragrances and ingredients.

Textiles: Dubai is home to a variety of textiles, including silk, cotton, and wool, which are used to create beautiful garments and fabrics.

Dates: Dubai is known for its delicious dates, which are available in a variety of flavors and make for a perfect souvenir or gift.

Electronic Gadgets: Dubai is a hub for electronic gadgets, with a range of stores offering the latest gadgets at competitive prices.

Conclusion:

Dubai is a city that offers a blend of modernity and tradition, making it a fascinating destination for tourists. Whether you're exploring the iconic landmarks, shopping in the luxurious malls, or relaxing on the pristine beaches, Dubai promises to be an unforgettable experience. So, pack your bags and embark on a journey to Dubai to explore its famous tourist attractions, shop for the best buys, and experience its unique charm.

[hoseoksluna]

LIFE | jhs

pairing: military!hobi x f. reader (ft. namjoon)

genre: slow burn ; tension ; converse high trope / smut, tiny fluff

word count: 8.6k

summary: hoseok has always had a secret thing for you and once he learns you're single, he doesn't waste time and knocks on your door. 

pinterest board: life / playlist: listen / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: mutual pining, hobi is a feet guy, mentions of a partner giving you a cold shoulder and silent treatment, strong tension, praise kink, petting, nipple play, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, slight dd/lg, raw and rough sex, size kink.

note: SHE'S BACK. HOSEOKSLUNA IS BACCKKKKKKKK. HELLO, MY BABIES. I MISSED YOU ALLLLL SOOOO MUCH AND I MISSED WRITING SO MUCH THAT THIS IS SOMETHING I WROTE IN MY YEARNING TOWARDS THE END OF MY HIATUS. fuck, this is way too hot. and i, again, had to take breaks to do something :D actually, i was inspired to write this at 4 am when i landed in my country after my vacation in dubai and got the weverse notification from hobi. :) yep. he ruined me, destroyed me, and i had to start writing. ENJOY THIS FILTHHHHHH. i missed writing abt dd/lg, too.... hehe. let me know what you think. and if you mayhappsss want part two? I LOVE YOU, MY BABIES. MWAH.

Hoseok, at your doorstep bringing in the moonlight before the midnight hour, was not something you quite expected to see when you heard the bell ring. You were lounging around on your couch, clothed in your new silky pajamas that you bought to heal your wounded heart a little, along with a peachy Korean face mask, a banana vape and a vanilla candle that you lit up as soon as you exited the shower. The creamy white sheet is what you were still wearing on the planes on your face when you stood there, taken aback because the man, clad in his military uniform, was certainly not your friend that visited you often. 

Hoseok was a mutual friend. A friend of your best friend Karina… and a friend of your now ex-boyfriend Namjoon. A friend that hated your guts—a friend that could not stand you. 

A friend that would let his eyes linger a little while longer on you upon seeing you on regular night outs and then ignore you for the rest of the event. A friend that would lock his gaze on your intertwined hand with Namjoon’s before narrowing it and scoffing in a private way that you invariably saw through. 

You weren’t stupid. You knew what his deal was—it’s only that you couldn’t do anything about it. You were Namjoon’s for eight wonderful months that were splotchy with the depth of poetry. Words from his heart that would give your life meaning, keep your head up above the surface. You needed those words as you spent your whole girlhood drowning in the sea of FOMO, rowing your arms through the waves of life that never got you anywhere. Seeing the little beauty of day and night of Seoul with your friends paled in comparison with what Namjoon showed you. You always believed that your life would begin with a man by your side—you prayed for it, you waited for it and it became reality. 

But it was not the reality that your body sought in the long run. 

Yes, the sex was great. Significant to your mental development, especially to your female one as you truly did become a woman in his hands, letting the lush girlish version of you die in his palms. As well as the museums, the hikes, the dinner dates that let you in on the complexity of Namjoon’s intellect that you found so profound and full of beauty. 

But as you nearly reached a year with him, your body began to seek more. The flowers beyond the box of your relationship with him—and you knew that those petals carried the scent of Hoseok. 

He liked you. You saw it in the extremity of his purposeful ignorance towards you, in the forced hatefulness he put across, and in the distance he set as a boundary. You saw it, too, in the way he would entertain other women in the bars and glance at you every now and then to make sure you’re seeing what he wants you to see. And it excited you, his interest in you that he kept at bay. 

It was a forbidden fruit that you smelt and smelt, but could never bite into—and it drove you insane. And when he got enlisted in the military, it drove you off a cliff. 

Missing him made you search for him. Not in Namjoon, but in other men. Privately, in your soul. And it cost you your relationship. 

Namjoon was a jealous, possessive man. He would fight with you if you looked at a guy for a beat longer than is necessary and if a half of a smile crept up upon the corner of your lips, he would give you the cold shoulder. An action that cut through you deep enough to make you bleed and you had to put a stop to it. 

You thought talking to him about it like an adult would straighten the road you were walking upon, but like the intelligent man Namjoon is—he knew that what he was giving to you was no longer what you needed. He threw it back at you, using the poetry of his words, and all you could do was be honest with him. Nod your head, tell him he was right, that you were seeking something more. And what surprised you was that Namjoon wasn’t willing to go the extra mile. 

He didn’t consider it. Didn’t mention it. 

He nodded his head, too. And you parted your ways as friends who loved each other and lived an artistic life together. 

And at that moment, a door to your mind opened and Hoseok stepped in. Made a bed, fluffed the pillows, and rested. 

It seems now he has awoken. Rang your doorbell, bashed his fist against the wood and narrowed his eyes at you in his normal fashion. 

An action that weaves a rhythm into that flat, bruised heart of yours. 

His military jacket is slung over his arm. His two black dog tags, hung by a silver chain around his long neck, rattles as the breath of the fresh, autumn evening breezes past, scattering goosebumps along your chocolate-buttered skin. You notice, within the brief silence while you look at each other and exchange words long overdue, that his hair is way shorter. Not buzzed anymore like Namjoon showed you on Hoseok’s first day in the military six months ago, but tousled and sticking out in different directions as if he raked his fingers through the strands a million times over. Your own itch, wrapped around your vape, his beauty heightened by his evident newly-gained manliness washing over you like an icy stream of water. 

You shiver, blaming it internally on the wind, and not on the lightness of the attraction that you feel sinking beneath your skin, overpowering you. 

And that small movement of your body propels Hoseok to speak, at last. 

“I come home to find you single,” he scoffs, his voice deep and raspy, marked possibly by his job in the military. And you feel it marking you just the same, opening windows in the house of your body for that wind to blow in and exhilarate you, help you breathe. “He’s drunk out of his mind, crawling on Jungkook’s lap and you’re here. In your pajamas with a fucking face mask on.” 

Briefly, you furrow your brows, not understanding the meaning of his words. Is he bashing you for not crying your heart out? Or is he bashing his brother for doing whatever it was. Your heart turns halfway, painfully. Those days are gone—those you spent in bed while that broken muscle wept while your body used that time to repose from all the stress it went through, being in an environment it grew out of. 

You sigh, weary of the recollection of that peculiar pain, and show no sight of the turbulence happening within you. “Jungkook must be happy about that.” 

Hoseok chuckles, humorlessly. A chilling noise that erects your bare nipples beneath your pajama button down. Awkwardness slinks down your sternum and you shift your weight on your other foot as Hoseok deepens his gaze down on you. 

Tension settles between you and you use it. You use it, wholeheartedly, as you should have all those months ago. The only thing you ever took advantage of were the touches Namjoon graced your skin with. You’d grab his hand, while Hoseok watched, and bring it underneath the table. Part your mouth, pretending he was touching a sensitive, private place while he was merely drifting his fingers along your thigh. Hoseok would gulp, but he would keep his gaze locked on yours, very much like he’s doing now. It’s the only form of intimate interaction you ever had, save for the heated debates about different things you two did not have in common. 

All else remained hidden in the silence shared between you. 

And it no longer shall. 

If he came all the way here, unannounced, then you shall let fate, one that is enamored with your body, have her way in your life. 

“If you came here to talk about him, then I’m not interested,” you say, letting go of the door and slipping off your face mask, ignoring the hurtful pinpricks along the perimeters of your heart. “If you came here for me, then the door is open.” 

And with that bravery, you pivot on your heel and walk back into the living room, not expecting him to follow you and not expecting him to walk away. You let fate do her thing, and you begin to tap in the essence of the peachy face mask into your skin with quick, gentle slaps. 

You toss the sheet, along with the packaging, into the trash, your hair clipped away from your face whooshing around you with your movement. Kicking off your slides, you hear them bump into something stable, and when you turn around to seek that strange sound, you see Hoseok standing by your armchair near your couch. 

So he did come here for you. You tremble in a different manner, filled with sparks of excitement, and, turning around to sit on the couch, you flush, smiling happily to yourself. 

But all those feelings turn to dust when Hobi kneels by the edge of your couch and fixes your home slippers. Aligns them rightly in front of you so you can comfortably slide your feet into them once you get up. 

Your stomach drops and your fingertips tingle, all of your nerve endings set on blazing fire by that one act of service. 

The first kind thing he’s ever done for you. 

He throws his military jacket over the backrest of the armchair, where he nestles himself. Legs spread, elbows propped on his knees. His long dog tag chain swings back and forth in the sudden, atypical calmness of the atmosphere that you cannot adapt to fully. Not when your mind creates an image of that chain hanging over your face, your neck and your chest when you’re bare and ready for him, laying on your back, all for him to take. 

You bite your lip, tracing the band of your sleep sock with your fingers, and Hoseok’s eyes fall to it. You quickly lift them, sheepish. Distract your mind by opening a package of eye patches and placing them on your dark circles that just won’t leave. His gaze skims over each motion, studying it, wordlessly, and you can’t take it anymore. 

You can’t be the only one who’s brave this evening. 

You take a puff of your vape, inhaling its sweetness, and stare right back at him. A smile, a foolish girlish smile quivers upon your lips. One that you dislike because you did grow out of it, but it seems as though the more you swallow the intensity of his shadowed, violent sea-charged energy, the more you transform back into that little girl you were. 

And the process soaks your panties. 

So much is said in the silence, always has been, but you can’t stand it anymore. 

“You should start talking before I go to bed,” you bite, willing your smile to flatten, and Hoseok kneads his hands. His knuckles bear a faint memory of yellow bruises, veiny and strong as they are, and for a moment you wonder how far his ferocity reaches. 

He showed you little of it. You know he’s capable of doing things that would change you for all eternity, give you a new form that would not wither with age. 

And you yearn for it. Have yearned for it all those months without knowing that was the thing your body sought. The thing Namjoon could never give you. 

Violence. Roughness. The licks of an outraged sea. 

You’re a witness to it sloshing in the pools of his darkened eyes as he chews the provocation you uttered his way. And you can bet he likes the taste. 

“Did he break your heart?” he asks amidst the banana-flavored smoke, his knuckles whitening for a split second as he clenches his fist before relaxing—as if the thought of Namjoon breaking your heart angers him. 

It rouses you, and the way your chest lifts with each breath stimulates your stiffened nipples. The candlelight sways, casting shadows on his worn features, and you’d much rather sit on them than talk about your ex. 

“Did you not hear what I said?” you spit, throwing your vape on the cushion of your couch. Hoseok’s façade splits as he smirks, dropping his gaze for a moment before lifting it back to you. 

He leans back, slouching in the chair. “Answer the question.” 

The sedatedness of his tone stuns you. Your heart begins to thump as well as the bundle of nerves between your folded legs. It has been too long since you had your release. Months upon months. And you’re too weak to not get carried away by these new feelings you’ve shamefully forgotten about. 

The veins from his knuckles travel all the way back to his arms and your brain empties out. Too, too fucking long. You should’ve fooled around with every guy you found attractive, use them for orgasms, make the best of your womanly years, but instead you dwelled at home—in and out of your misery. And now, now it feels as though you’re a virgin, alone for the first time with an older man that enlivens your body. 

And you might as well give him what he asks of you. 

Sucking on your vape for a puff of bravery, you don’t blink as you stare at him through the smoke. You elongate your legs, placing them on the coffee table next to him, your toes facing his outstretched knee, and his eyes, once again, plummet to them. 

“He didn’t break my heart, I broke his,” you say, your words shrouded by that white mist curling out of your mouth, and you watch as his eyes widen en route to yours. 

He didn’t expect that. 

Something about that satisfies you. Selfishly. 

Hoseok runs the pad of his finger across his bottom lip, his head tilted to the side a little bit. “It was about time you did.” 

The searing heat that rushes forward in your cheeks forces your gaze away from him, begs you to look away, but you don’t. A bead of perspiration trickles down your cleavage, one that is visible to him as you couldn’t be bothered to do all the buttons after your shower. But Hoseok’s eyes don’t flick to it. No, he can’t miss this. He can’t miss the gravity of the moment, of the spoken confirmation of the fact that what went on between the two of you for so long is real. You squeeze your thighs together, the thumping in between unbearable, and the longer you bask in his brave words, in the masculinity of his initiative, the more your own poetry begins to rise in you.

If it drags, it’s not meant for you. If it’s fast, it couldn’t wait to meet you. 

And Hoseok notices. It is only when you let out a little, barely hearable sigh that his eyes do travel down to scrutinize your bodily reaction. To your nipples poking through, the shine of your sweat in between your bare breasts, to the friction you’re rubbing—the miniscule grinding movements that you make in order to alleviate yourself of the ache of desperation that you feel. And because you’re baring yourself out for him, he does the unthinkable. 

He lets you see his true face, his façade collapsing at his big, sock-clad feet. 

Hoseok lifts his hips, hides behind the pretense that he’s just making himself more comfortable, but in reality he did it to turn your attention to his lower region. His length, semi-hard yet still long, stands out, protruding from the camo of his pants and you’re hot, hot all over. 

The thumping worsens—and you need him, all of him, to make it better. 

Perceiving that he’s succeeded in his strategy by the way you just won’t stop ogling him, he blushes and hides it, in vain, with outstretched fingers spread across his face. As if he was doing his signature idol move. It’s a riveting sight to behold, a seemingly cold person growing warm from you gaping at that private part of him. 

And you want more. You want to see more places of his body that are flushed. And you want it now. 

“It was about time you and I talked alone, don’t you think?” you ask, following on from his previous statement. All that pining, those stolen glances, that distance—all that tension advances forward now, stronger than ever.

Hoseok can feel it, too. At your words, his manhood grows harder and his breathing quickens. He tries to stabilize it, but he fails. He fails even when he returns to his original position with his elbows propped on his knees. That chain of his swings with more momentum, teasing you, and you place your legs even closer towards him, and upon witnessing the light flash in his eyes, you realize that you teased him right back. 

The man likes feet.

You draw in a sharp breath when he fists both of your feet in one hand, brushing his thumb over the tips of your toes. The first touch in this lifetime, the first time upon your new virgin body, so intimate, private; he might as well have wrapped a blanket around them with how warm his hand is, secure and trustful. Goosebumps flood your skin, bringing in the iciness that you felt when you took in his beauty against the background of the trees and the moonlight. And its beams must be stitched around his fingers because daintiness clasps you close, the notion that you’re taken care of, in good hands, descending upon you like the most delicate feather tickling you, and you let it—you let it consume you. 

And you let his following question consume you just as much. 

“Were you in love with him?” 

It’s a question you never had the bravery to ask yourself in the two months you’ve been single, but it is here and you welcome it. You hear it whisper to you the hint of your answer and your body is smart enough, capable enough to figure it out. 

No need for long nights of overthinking. 

No need for long hours of listening to your heart crack.

“No, I was used to him—that’s different,” you hush out and the moon lowers herself, spilling through your windows, bathing you in a milky light that feels as welcoming, as right as your confession. And maybe, just maybe it’s the way the shining stream submerges in your neediness that drives you to be bratty. And briefly, before you do, you ponder over the fact how in your life shared with this person drives, moves forward. There’s never a still time—and you find that mesmerizing. Enough for you to simply brood in greed. “What’s it to you?” 

Hoseok flinches. Parts his mouth. His chain rattles and his fingers squeeze the balls of your feet, coaxing a hum out of you that is immediately silenced by his sudden outburst. 

“What’s it to me?” 

There it is. Another plot point. Your heart hammers. 

Hoseok lets go of your feet and you lament the absence. Stands up and towers over you, the moonshine soaking him in divine light that causes your breath to hitch in your throat. A faint layer of sweat has coasted along his hairline and settled there—and you long to swim in his bodily fluids. In the persona of his, in the tumultuous sea of the tension locked within him. 

“You’re genuinely asking me this question?” he pressures, lifting your legs in order to step in between them, and the unthinkable visits you once again. He props his hands on either side of your head and those two dog tags swing in your face. 

A wet patch forms in the center of your pajamas. Your breath mirrors his—hasty, deep and strained—and you can’t take it anymore. 

How far into this road of bravery until the moon averts its opaque eyes away from your sin? 

You arch your spine, hook your fingers on his dog tags and pull him a little closer. Breathe his air, breathe in his masculine, musky scent that intoxicates your senses to the point that there is absolutely nothing stopping you from getting dragged in the natural flow of this situation. 

“Yes, Hoseok. What’s it to you?” 

He pants. Glides, delicately, his fingers along your arm until he winds up at your small fist, clutching it in his as if it was his. And that warmth, you want to dip your head in it. 

“I had to watch you sit in that chair and not crack a smile. Sit next to him like an obedient girl, not allowed to speak. To me,” he grunts, tightening his lips, and that anger of his seeps into you, becoming yours. “He didn’t deserve you. You’re not a pretty toy. You’re a person.” 

He straightens but, panicking, you draw him right back by that chain. “Don’t fucking walk away from me.” 

He seethes and you feel your essence trickling down your thigh. That sea, inching forward, you whimper. And then he spreads that warmth over the crown of your head, rubbing your hairline just once with his thumb before he peels off your eye patches that you have forgotten about. 

And this is when your brows curl. This is the time that says there’s no going back. 

“I talked to you. We fought, don’t you remember?” 

He sweeps that digit over that soaked dark circle of yours underneath your eye. “What do you think would’ve happened to you if I talked to you nicely?” 

Cold shoulder. Uncomfortable time of forced aloneness, filled with the abyss of guilt that you had done something wrong. A toy that didn’t move its lifeless limbs right by his will. 

“I’ve known him for far longer than you. I know how he treats those he thinks he loves. I brushed it away with the others, but with you… I couldn’t. You were so full of life that was stuck in you because of him. Because he didn’t let you let it out. And I can’t forgive him for that.” 

What life? The one you searched for all your girlhood, the one Namjoon molded with his own hands until it no longer recognized the once-familiar lines of his palm? The one that yearned for Hoseok instead? 

A film of tears clouds your eyes and as hard as you try to blink them away, they linger, pooling at your waterline like sea foam. You need your vape, you need him inside you—you can’t face the mirror of the reality of that unfair treatment. 

How blind you were; how Hoseok has become that guiding stick. 

“Don’t forgive him,” you utter, grasping his chain tighter, drawing him even closer, making his breath tremble. The first tear that pours out leaks into the print of his thumb and at the sound of your soft cry, Hoseok topples. Kneels on the couch with your legs on either side of him and you pull, you pull him closer. 

“Do you want me?” he asks—a foolish, foolish question. Presses his forehead against yours, cups your face with both hands now while his back shakes and you touch it, you drag your fingernails down those prominent muscles. And he sighs, so desperately, so tenderly. “Do you want me to let out that life in you?” 

“Yes,” you whisper, sliding your hands underneath his black shirt, scratching the lowest part of his warm, warm waist before hooking your fingers on the waistband of his pants. It’s his—it always belonged to him. “Take me. Here.” 

He brushes his nose against yours, your breath and his singular. “You’re so feisty.” Lips nearly touch yours and your lungs give out on you, your air coming out in pathetic staccatos that make him growl, subduedly. Muscles rigid, bundle of nerves devoutly pulsing. Please, please. “But no.” 

The world implodes, the mocking shimmer of that planetary light gushing through—hand in hand with sobriety. 

But Hoseok, the prince of the unthinkable, dips your head back into that darkness. Lifts you by your armpits and sets you down on his lap, his hard length against your core uprearing your need for release. 

A hand sailing down your neck, your sternum, acknowledging itself with your respiration. “Don’t give it to me that easily.” 

Your own cages him there, right at the apex of the fleshiness of your breasts. “Jebal, Hobi.” 

Please, Hobi. You drive, in his fashion, your hips forward—ever so slightly. His eyes round at the mellow variation of his name wandering out of your mouth and wrapping around his neck, as if the gentleness you give him pains him, transforms into a noose around his vocal cords and he can’t speak. 

He sighs, the noise melting into a soft, low-pitched moan. “Don’t beg me,” he croaks out, so terribly strung out. “I’m-I’m—”

You lengthen your spine, closing your mouth over that one spot on the side of his throat that you can reach, silencing him. He doesn’t need to speak—you’re fine with the tacit language of his hands. And the taste of his skin, that fucking warmth dissolving upon your tongue, you can’t help but to moan just the same against him like that, rocking your hips awfully, awfully slowly, driving him to the point of madness that he stood at the edge of for so long. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur, tugging his hand lower to the first done button of your silky shirt and it’s him who hooks his fingers over that fabric now. You lick a stripe across the thick vein of his throat, grinding a little harder when you hear him suck in a pained breath. “I want you to feel that life in me and know it’s yours. Jebal, Hoseokie.” 

He grunts, ripping you away from him. You expect his eyes to be narrowed in that typical manner of his, but they’re not. They’re soft, round and glossy, looking down at you, unblinking. A face you’ve never seen before, that feels too, too significant—and you’re not sure if you deserve to get a load of it. Of his pinkish cheeks and downturned mouth, of his fingers agonizingly sluggishly undoing the first button of your shirt. 

Of his sentimentality that you never thought he was so efficient at. 

The sea that has remotely stilled—but you’re still riding the lenient waves, your torso curving with each button popping off as he engraves his warmth into your cold, cold skin. And once he reaches the very last one, he stops. Holds your shirt together, squishing your breasts, waiting for you to lift your head out of the sea water. 

And you do. 

He inches forward, grazing his lips against yours, making you feebly cry out. 

“Did you cry for him?” 

Your cry prolongs, vexation splattering over your arousal, and you’ve had enough of it. You flick your eyes between his, drawing back, flattening your lips in that anger of his that seems to be still flowing in you somewhere. No more, no more Namjoon; no more talk of your past relationship. It’s over, it’s over.

“Stop fucking—”

Hoseok doesn’t relent. Sinks his fingers into the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck to make you listen. “Did you cry for him?” 

Your heart wept, but your eyes didn’t. The tear you shed in front of him was the only liquid emotion that spilled out of you since the day of the break up. “No.” 

He blows a heavy breath of relief that oddly validates you—and light opens in your sensitive bosom. “Good girl.” 

And it is now that Hoseok presses his chest, his dog tags against that light of yours and clamps his mouth down on your top lip, hoisting you a tiny bit to sit you right down on his manhood. His strong arm wraps around your back while the other floats down and curls around your bum, growling into the kiss that he deepens. And then he parts your lips with his, slipping his tongue inside, and the dam breaks between your legs—as well as the quick little whines and squeaks that begin to leak out of your mouth and into his. 

The life in you throbs. 

His cock hardens even more underneath you and he pushes your clit against it, his noises and yours growing louder and louder in tandem until he’s breathless, panting so vivaciously that he needs a moment. A moment to focus on the mess he’s created of you, a glowing ball of rosiness, the prettiest of all flowers—and you feel like it, being looked at like that. 

“I knew you were smart,” he coos, peppering feathery kisses upon your cheek, jaw and chin, descending to the base of your neck. You moan out, fisting his shirt below his collarbones, the continuation of his validation for you nesting in your core. “That life in you will always win. No matter what.” 

You believe him—in fact, there’s nothing left for you to do, but to submit, submit and submit. And it feels like entering a dream that is kind, a reality that appears to be a dream, but is better. An existence smeared with clemency, where you can be a little girl again. 

“Touch it, please.” 

Hoseok hums, kissing the cleft between your clavicles. Shifts forward on the couch so you can rest your spine on the backrest, your head against the wall, and he slides his palms upward from your tummy to the apex of your breasts. You whine, torturously, at the contact, and you shudder and double over when he swipes his thumbs over your still stiffened nipples, buzzing shocks of acute pleasure coursing down your body, rooting in your clit that asks for his fingers, his tongue, but he remains where he is. Transfixed, starving, ravaged. 

He kneads your breasts like he kneaded his hands, with overpowering strength that quickens your blood flow, your body submitting to him and flushing like his does. A sliver of skin that your shirt exposes catches his attention—and at the sight of the flesh of your breasts spilling through, his cock twitches, his breath ragged, eyes droopy and so, so drunk. He pinches your nipples, still through that silken fabric, as if he was punishing you for causing him this unfair pain. 

Knead, flick, pinch. Your noises are obnoxious, his heat in you rising and rising, and you can’t take it anymore. The drum in your clit thuds and you push him away, the pleasure too overwhelming, too good and too arousing. 

And he pushes away the fabric, revealing your perky breasts. A glint settles on the edge of his irises and he gives you a coy smile before he smashes his mouth against yours, moving it in a rhythm that reflects the one in your bundle of nerves. And you grind, you grind like your life depends on it, your nipples and your pussy rubbing against him, against his icy dog tags, getting you closer and closer to your orgasm. And you would come like this had he not physically ripped you away from him. 

Heaving, he focuses, all over again, on the ruination he makes of you. The warmth in you flits so invitingly that you have to touch the places he did—your stomach, your sternum, your breasts. And as you do, you watch his gaze darken, you watch him nod his head, and wipe the corner of his mouth clean, catching his drool. 

“You feel it, don’t you?” he rasps, following the invisible traces you left on your body. Your stomach, your sternum, your breasts. “Right here. Life. Beautiful life.” He teases your hardened nub, circling it with the pads of his fingers, sliding it between his knuckles and squeezing, his smile growing with each shudder of your chest, with each response. “It’s time to make you come and let it out, you ready? Let’s take these off.” 

He tugs off your pajama pants, throws it behind his shoulder, examines the large wet stain on your panties that he coos at, raspily, petting it with his thumb—and you’re so turned on that even such faint touch like that brings you pleasure. You hold onto his arms for dear life, depending on him, trembling when the panties and the shirt are next, tossed upon the pile of your pants. 

You’re bare and he’s still fully dressed. Such titillating unfairness that turns you unhinged, maddened by liveliness your body is diffused with. 

Hoseok pins your legs back. Takes one hand and glides his fingers across your entire femininity, soaking them in the dew he has coaxed out of you, moaning gutturally. 

“He never made you wet like this, did he?” he asks, pride dripping out of him like his masculine pheromones, and with his wet fingers he palms himself. “You don’t even have to answer that. I know. I need to taste you, baby.” 

You don’t even get to fill a lungful of the stuffed, vanilla-scented air and he dives in, keeping your legs glued to your shoulders as he seizes your clit in his mouth, sucking on it briefly before he flattens his tongue all over you. He licks you like a lost man finding an oasis, humming into your heat while he tastes your personal slickness, swallowing everything he sowed. You bang your head on the wall, a numbed pang expanding all throughout your scalp by your claw clip, taking it all, moaning so loudly the whole of Seoul must be hearing you. Even Namjoon in his drunkenness, shameful that he never managed to eat you like this in the eight months you were his to consume. 

Your orgasm inches to you quickly. With half-lidded eyes, you watch the candlelight create sublime, eccentric images on his back. And as if he couldn’t handle the warmth anymore, he peels himself away from you just to take off his shirt, adding it to the pile. He doesn’t let you see his muscular body—he plunges back down, tongue outstretched, flicking the muscle on your swollen clit. He pinches your thigh, your mound, your folds, whimpering onto your flesh, hurrying to close his mouth over you to suck your clit. 

And within that divine suction, you come apart. The beautiful images on his back advance, fluttering on his smooth skin, and you hold him to yourself. The life in you explodes, saturating him in a dimmed, soft-hued, colorful light that he himself must be sensing because he moans, loudly, sinking his index finger inside your clenching hole. You can’t speak, you can’t breathe—you can only feel, you can only take. Your orgasm continues on, a ceaseless stream of delight untwisting in every part of your body. 

And when he begins to fuck you with that finger of his and hits that good spot, your orgasm melts into another one. And this time, you can’t take it. 

You shake so vivaciously that you fall off the edge of the couch, but he catches you. Hoseok unclips your hair and lays you down, propping your hips on the armrest instead and when he bends at the waist and opens his mouth, you scream out your disagreement, pushing him away. 

He blinks at you, mouth sopping wet. “I wasn’t finished.” 

Your oxygen is stuck in your throat, one that gets bespeckled with the beads of your dew. “Hoseokie—”

He traces it, wiping it off, holding you there. Presses his hard, clothed length against your bare pussy, rocking slowly, casting a private, affection-filled shadow with the arch of his body over yours. Hoseok kisses you once, a nasty kiss perfumed with your tangy scent, and you cry out. 

“The fact you can’t take the bare minimum personally offends me. He had you all to himself and he didn’t do his job well,” he mutters, squeezing your throat once. Drags his wet hand down your sternum, grasping a hold of both of your breasts, clenching them until they flush, again, like him. 

There it is, the saltiness of his sea. You yearn for the physical principle of it coating your tongue—for his cum to trickle out of the tip of it like your dew is off of his. And his words, his anger towards his best friend because of you—it heals you in a way you could never heal yourself. Another person seeing you and telling you that you deserve better, it is the most pristine form of remedy there is and you splutter on the whole beauty and compassion of it all, too weak to accept it at once. 

“That’s right,” you agree, as enthusiastically as your dopeness allows you, smiling lopsidedly, heart pounding. “Go slow on me.”

He croons, squeezing his eyes. “My little girl.” 

He buries his face in your neck, kissing you there, and along with the life in you—your heart explodes, too. The finality of your detransformation. Tears of joy ache in the corners of your eyes, the rawness of human fulfillment housing in you for all eternity. 

He kisses his way down to your breasts. “I’ll go slow on you,” he promises, darting out his tongue and flicking it over your nub, making you tremble. He straightens and dances his fingers along your thighs—up to your knees. “Do you want to stop here?” 

You shake your head. Place your feet flat on his toned stomach while you feel your dew dribble down your bum. Hoseok smiles, his mouth curving in that way of his that causes your own stomach to drop. He holds your heels, hooking his finger under the band of your socks and yanking them off. 

And his grin blooms at the sight of your dusty-pink toes, an endeared look thawing his eyes. He rubs them like he did at the beginning of this journey, keeps one at his stomach while he lifts the other one to his mouth. 

Your poor heart skips a beat. 

“Do you want me to fuck you like a little girl like you deserves?” 

He kisses the ball of your foot, doesn’t break the eye contact. Watches your mouth part in absolute astonishment and your cheeks deepen in their hue. And when he kisses it again, slower this time, it wakes you up from your stupefaction, and you lower your free foot down to his clothed cock. Hoseok groans, the sound muffled against your tootsie, shutting his eyes at the impact. Your chest flickers with a sense of pride that you made him react like that—and you want it again. You trail your toes across that length of his, but before you could reach the most sensitive part of him, he stops you. 

Sucks in that pained breath of his, red all over. 

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.” 

You mirror him, the idea of being capable of doing that to him pleasuring you. You leak onto the couch. Your blood boils. 

“That’s so hot.” 

He chuckles, anchoring your foot upon his heart, tapping it with your big toe. “It’s because you have my heart.” 

Your body ceases all work, as well as time. Even the candlelight pauses its dance, concentrating its caressing radiance on that chain of his. 

And you don’t think as you scurry onto your knees and embrace him, his dog tags no longer icy. He plants his nose into your hair, inhaling you, sealing you into the hug with both of his arms. Your heart reaches its own towards his and they cling to each other, too. 

And you’re not afraid to reciprocate his feelings—they’re as clear to you as that very luminescence of the vanilla candle. 

“You have me,” you whisper into his ear, his body not quivering but stable, safe. “You have my life. It’s more of a treasure than my heart.” 

He had you the moment he so evidently disapproved of your past relationship. He had you the moment he was curious to see if you were jealous when he was entertaining other women. He had you the moment he purposefully put a distance between you and him because he didn’t want you to get hurt by Namjoon. 

You just didn’t know it yet, not until clarity arose in front of you in the form of his honesty. 

Hoseok kisses your own ear, lingers there. “I want both.” 

“Then, have it.”

And he kisses your forehead. “Thank you. I’ll take care of it.” 

You can see in the ivory mist of his eyes that he means it—and so you tug off his military belt as you begin to pepper kisses down the column of his neck because he deserves it, because he cares for you, because he came to you as soon as he heard that you were single. And when you reach those dog tags, the words of his title imprinting themselves onto the surface of your lips, you clasp his cock in your hand. Too big for your small fist, too warm for you to handle—

“Lay back down.” 

You bite into the flesh right above that first steel pendant while keeping your eyes locked on his. “Yes, Sergeant.” 

Hoseok curses. Wrings a sharp gasp out of you when he pulls on your hair, giving you a nasty kiss full of tongue. “Don’t call me that when I need to be gentle with you,” he scolds, sucking on your bottom lip to make it better and you disintegrate. “Right now I would bend you over this couch and fuck you until Sergeant and Sir was all you knew, but I can’t do that. Not when you’re not used to me yet.” 

Yes, the promise of the sea—you convulse from head to toe, pining after it. 

“I want that so bad.” 

He nods, marking you on your neck. You whimper and he groans in response. “And I’ll give it to you, you just need to be good now. Lay down.” 

You comply, but you take him with you—grabbing him by that chain as you arch your back on the couch. He lets you, grins at you like the utmost sunshine, but that expression of delight breaks when a certain realization dawns upon him. 

“I didn’t bring any condoms.” 

You huff out a soft noise. “Good. I want you to come all over me.” 

Hoseok hangs his head low, sighing, on all fours above you. His chain swings, drawing the memory of this very night on your breasts. He looks up at you from this position, his eyes thin slits that cause you to clench around nothing. 

“I’ll give you a big load.” 

You beam like the purest angel, in spite of the context. “Yes, please.” 

Hoseok rolls his eyes back, his façade cracking, and he beams just the same, his mouth widening in the shape of a heart that moves through you. He kisses you deeply, a long peck that breaks you down into a putty, and when he withdraws, you can still see that smile plastered on his glowing face. 

“Good girl. Such good manners.” 

And with that praise, he sheathes himself inside you. You both gasp in union, entering a paradise no other human will ever witness in the afterlife. He stretches you out, slowly, careful not to hurt you as he waits it out, petting your hair in the meantime. 

“I can feel you stretching around me, fuck. You’re so warm, so tight for me,” he rasps, panting, that smile trembling on his lips as he tries to keep it together. He straightens, pinches your nipple and you feel yourself accommodating him quicker at that sudden electricity of pleasure, at the sight of his toned body and that chain. The shine of sweat, the dance of the candlelight, the width of his shoulders and carmine chest as it heaves in desperate hums and groans. You could come just from that—and the sensation is so dizzying that your eyes droop. Hoseok notices, grappling the crook between your neck and shoulder. “Stay with me, baby, you can take this. I’m gonna make you feel so good and you’re gonna come on this cock.” 

Those hums of his cruise all the way to your mouth as he sinks that encouragement into it, kissing you deeply, pinning your hands back above your head and sliding his fingers into a celestial intertwinement with yours. They throb within you, those words of his, where they disperse all around, helping you believe that you truly can take the whole manliness of him. Your mind spins, the pressure of your shared atmosphere ringing in your ears, and he knows, he knows that you’re ready for him.

“I’m gonna start moving now. Talk to me, baby. Tell me everything you’re feeling as I fuck you,” he murmurs, unsheathing himself a tiny bit before he curls his hips forward and upwards, creating a languid, spine-tingling rhythm that replicates the waves of his sea. They slosh to and fro with every slow stroke and he kisses your good spot with the tip of his cock. Your eyes flutter open and close, rolling like those waves, but you can still see the way his jaw is clenched, his gums on full show as he seethes in his self-control, the flush of his neck and the flexing of his abdomen that you can’t help but to touch in your otherworldly daze. He stares down at you, intensely, narrows his eyelids and furrows his brows when he feels your touch, and you discover that the spot, where his V-lines lead to your antidote, is one of uttermost sensitivity. 

He moans, burying himself deep in you, and stopping there. Mound to mound, soul to soul.

“Fuck, baby, you just know where all my spots are, don’t you?” he asks, his voice so terribly strained, torso doubled over, and you grin. 

“I think I was born already knowing them,” you flirt and Hoseok pounds into you for it—a singular thrust that scrambles all your brain cells. Your smile falls, your brows crunch, your throat utters such whiny noise that he himself grunts at the sound of it, and when you lift yourself onto your elbows to see his length driving in and out of you, he pushes you right down by your throat, kissing you hard enough that it hurts.

And he alleviates the lip lock by licking over your tongue, toying with it—all while he, little by little, picks up the rhythm, fucking into you with a force that coaxes your rawest moans out of you. 

“You can’t handle my tongue and I can’t handle it when you flirt with me,” he scoffs, smacking his mouth as he turns his head, claiming your mouth, claiming you. “God, I wanna destroy you so bad.” 

Your cry is cut out by another savage thrust and you claw at that sensitive spot of his, inciting him to do it again and again. “I’m yours to destroy.” 

He pauses, the crown of his cock teasing the beginning of your heat. Sweat drips down his temple and he runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that makes your heart twitch in absolute sensuality and relish. 

“Say that again.” 

Your breath hitches. “I’m yours to destroy.” 

Hoseok curses, driving into you all the way. You whine out, clenching your fists, feeling every ridge and every vein of his cock glide forwards and backwards along your walls. And by tensing your body and focusing on the delight he’s gracing your body with, the build-up of your orgasm announces its presence.

“Fuck, Hobi, you feel so good,” you cry, gripping his forearms as he begins to hold your waist steady. He jackhammers into you so viciously that your vision scatters with a creamy hue of ivory, moaning in ragged staccatos that influence you so much that you naturally imitate them, fading into him, becoming one. 

“Whose are you?” he growls without interfering with the gracefulness of his sadism, moving back only an inch before slamming back into you, bruising your cervix—and you lose all brain cells, the synapses blanking out. 

But only one thing is clear. 

“I’m yours.” 

And the following snap of his hips drives you out of this world and out of this universe. The gravity keeps your muscles tense, confining your pleasure and the closeness of your orgasm within. The ringing grows in volume and you’re on the cusp. 

Hoseok is, too, because he begins to beg. 

“Please, please, baby. Come for me. I’m so fucking close for you. Please, I’m gonna come all over you.” 

And with a scream that vibrates through the walls of your living room, you comply. Your core grips him, your skin prickles and you levitate—your back arches off the couch, aching to be closer to him, and Hoseok whines. 

Pulls out, straddles you, and fist-fucks his shaft with frantic, frenzied motions. Covers you with ropes and ropes of his cum that ripple on your stomach, your sternum and your breasts as you drift in and out of consciousness. Warm, warm essence of his masculinity that is warmer than the rest of him. 

Blood-hot. 

And you feel as though you deserved every drop. 

Deserved to see the beauty of his orgasm. The flush of his lower regions, especially. The sight you longed to see. 

Hoseok lets go of his manhood, his hand shiny and wet, though he’s still hard, reaching the beginning of your parting lungs with how big he is. Bigger than Namjoon, bigger than anyone you ever dated. Their names wither in your mind, decomposing. And they lose all meaning. 

They cease to exist. 

You’re not his best friend’s ex. You’re not anyone’s ex—

“Look at how little you are,” Hoseok comments, interrupting the surge of your maddened thoughts. He smears the puddle of cum on your stomach that his cock can reach and your pussy flutters in constant motions that ask for him again. “So little under me and all mine, aren’t you?” 

His avowal brings a fresh dose of oxygen into your lungs and you breathe it in. Want to breathe it in for the rest of your life with him. 

But Hoseok doesn’t stop there. Once you agree with him by the nod of your head and a dopey, gratified grin that casts an affirming light on him, he bends over you, his fists on either side of your head. 

“I’ll show you what true possessiveness looks like. The world will burn if it hurts you and if people say one bad word to you, it will be the last one they ever said. But they will talk to you and you will talk to them. You will learn about this life of yours. What it holds, what it looks like. And I’ll be standing beside you and I’ll watch over you. Learn it, live it with you.” 

He rubs your forehead with his thumb in a fond gesture. Looks at you with a mute meaning that touches your heart and crawls inside before he kisses you, relaxes his lips against yours, and kisses you again. 

Again and again. 

Again in the shower. Again in your bed when you’re riding him, tasting the life he let out of you, because you blazed up with desire after you washed his body. And the sex is quiet, smothered with those kisses until your mouth and his is numb. 

And again throughout the years you acknowledge yourself with that life and realize that you understand it more profoundly and clearly in the process of getting to know Hoseok than this world. 

Hoseok is that life. 

And you kiss him and whisper those words onto his mouth when you marry him at the altar, years and years later, connecting your life and his forever. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[amirasainz]

Could you do an Amira and lance or Pierre story where they take us on vacation and no one knows where we went till we post something and all of them start freaking out and calling Amira

Guess who's back? My request are OPEN. Enjoy reading.

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

Hiding the princess

"Ohhh, Pierre. It's so beautiful here. Gracias, mi cielo" Amira said to him. While Amira was admiring the breath-taking view from their balcony suite, Pierre was busy starring at his girl. She looked like a goddess, with her hair blowing in the wind and the lights reflecting in her eyes.

He went up behind her, hugging her tightly against his body. He hooked his chin over her shoulder, kissing her temple lovingly. "Only the best for you, ma belle." His whisper made her shiver, making her search more for his body heat.

Their romantic moment got interrupted by one of their phones buzzing. "Don't worry. I got it." he told her before she could move a finger. After kissing her cheek once more, he went inside their suite, finding Amiras phone lighting up from another message. On a closer look, Pierre could see that Carlos had been messaging Amira frantically.

To be honest, Pierre didn't leave Amira any time to inform anyone about their "spontaneous" travel. The past few weeks, the drivers and WAGS had been hogging Amira, leaving them without any time for themselves. So Pierre decided to take her away to Dubai, making her pack her luggage 2 hours before their private flight.

During their whole flight, Pierre was busy feeding Amira cherries while she tried to guess their travel destination. After 3 hours of flying, Pierre made her lie on top of him so she could rest after her exhausting packing. Pierre cherished every moment, making sure she was always in his arms, keeping her warm and safe.

Pierre wished he was able to frame the moment she recognised the beautiful city lights of Dubai. Amira once mentioned that she always wanted to visit the city. She wanted to spend her time in the dessert or in the luxury shopping centers. And who was Pierre to deny her such wish. The perfect opportunity presented after not being able to spend some time alone , just the two of them.

Till the day he died, Pierre would deny that seeing the thousand of messages Carlos send Amira in the past 7 hours made him nervous. For the love of god, he is 27 years old. Such thing like big, older, overprotective brothers didn't make Pierre break out in a sweat anymore. The Frenchman knew that he couldn't just leave the messages unanswered. He opened the Chat between the two Sainz siblings and wrote something along the lines of "Oh, I'm sorry for not answering sooner. I'm just so tired and I will go to sleep now. Bye-Bye <3". Before he could second guess himself. Pierre was brought out from his overthinking.

"Pierre, are you ok?" asked the sweet voice of his beautiful angel. "Of course, ma belle. I was just grabbing you a jacket" he answered. He quickly turned of her phone and grabbed his oversized beige jacket. He immediately wrapped her up, making sure that she was protected from the wind. "Oh, but I'm not even co-." Before she could finish her sentences he kissed her quickly.

Pierre wouldn't let anyone take her attention during their romantic get-away. Thru ought the week, he made sure to keep her busy. Pierre took her shopping, bought her the finest jewelerry. He had a SPA day with her, so she could relax from their hectic shopping day. The rest of the week they either went in the dessert, to the beach or did more shopping. Pierre made sure that they spent every second together. Safe to say that Amira wasn't able to respond to ay of her messages.

@ pierregasly just posted

Liked by charlesleclerc, lilyminuhe, georgerussell and 7 894 519 others

Spending the week with the most beautiful girl in the world @amirasainz <3

Comments:

@carlossainzjr cabron what is this?

@carlossainzjr Pierre Gasly, you better answer me right now

@carlossainzjr When I catch you Gasly, you're dead

@ charlesleclerc What the fuck? I thought we were friends

@ landonorris YOU CAN'T JUST HIDE HER FROM THE REST OF US!!!!!

@ oscarpiastri I will crash into you next race

@ maxverstappen you better hide

@ carmenmundt who do you think you are, hiding my girl from me?!

@ amirasainz <3

@ pierregasly BABY!!!! <3

Bonus(+)

In the tense atmosphere, Carlos muttered to himself, pacing back and forth in front of the other drivers. Three days had passed without any word from precious Amira, and concern had escalated. They hastily convened an impromptu drivers’ meeting, their minds racing with worry. On the whiteboard, various theories about her whereabouts were scribbled.

Just as Lando was about to share another idea, the door swung open. Charles stood there, his chest heaving. Startled, all the drivers rose from their seats. Max managed to ask, “Charles, what—”

Before anyone could respond, Charles turned toward them, tears glistening in his eyes. His voice trembled as he held up his phone, revealing an Instagram post from Pierre. The room erupted into chaos as everyone tried to make sense of the situation

Charles burst into tears, while Max threw some pillows at the wall. George and Alex were busy stalking the post. Oscar tried his best to help Lando regulate his breathing, while trying to keep the anger in himself. The chaos stopped when Carlos walked towards the door, muttering under his breath: "He's dead. He is so dead."

[verimuru]

Red on Maroon A 16-page IWTV (2022) fancomic about the vampire Armand and journalist Daniel Molloy visiting the Mark Rothko retrospective in 2024 Paris. Content mentions & warnings: The comic depicts Daniel’s internalized ableism. Rothko’s suicide is acknowledged but not discussed in detail. There’s angst, talk about kink and lots of fluff. Louis is mentioned as well as Daniel’s daughters. Marius is not named but is hinted at. The comic is set up in post-Dubai-interview time and based on my knowledge about s1 of AMC’s IWTV with sprinkles of book canon. Some notes about the comic below:

As with my last comic, I am not a native English speaker, so I hope you keep that in mind when reading <3 trying my best here meow meow

The Rothko retrospective can be visited until 2nd of April of 2024 in Louis Vuitton Foundation. I visited the place in January, so the comic’s surroundings are a mix of memories and some image searches, but in no way fully accurate. Since visiting Paris next week is probably not an option for most people, the foundation has a very cool free app, where you can listen to an audio guide about Rothko and paintings in the exhibition. I mostly used their app as a source for this comic, so in case you want to learn more, go here: https://www.fondationlouisvuitton.fr/en/events/mark-rothko

 I listened to a lot of Morton Feldman’s Rothko Chapel -album while making this. So put it in playing in the background if you’re into that sort of thing. Link to the playlist on youtube

Since I am Finnish and I found out that one of LVF’s first exhibition had some Finnish painter’s work, ofc I had to include them… Page 14 has Schjerfbeck’s “Dancing Shoes”  and Gallen-Kallela’s “Kullervo Cursing”.

Ok finally some headcanon stuff: in my head, while writing this comic, I imagined Daniel having accepted the dark gift from Armand, but both of them wanting him to live as a human as long as possible to enjoy the benefits of a… mortal body. :’D Since, you know, vampirism is forever anyway, so why not enjoy the variety of bodily fluids, body heat, aches and weirdness of aging? While having a chronic illness is shitty, his life is not, and while his disability marginalizes him, there’s a perspective there, a person living and enjoying things, allowed to take space and feel his thoughts develop from these changes (that also affect over 6 million people around the world with Parkinson’s).

After finishing the comic I am not so sure if Daniel is going to be turned into a vampire after all. So your guesses are as good as mine, would love to hear your suggestions, hehe!

I wish we knew more about Daniel’s daughters! I just came up with something here because I wanted to draw them and wanted to see their dynamics as a family.

I have now read the Devil’s Minion part from Queen of the Damned as a separate short story and appreciate the TV show’s changes to Daniel even more. I can’t wait for S2…..

My sincerest thanks to @anaid-queen for being a test audience, my informant and such a cheerleader the past week <3<3<3

Hope you enjoy xoxo

SORRY I POSTED THE WRONG IMAGE FILES FIRST WAHHH I had to repost ;_;

[vax-merstappen]

on vacation with the f1 boys ✈️

i love to travel so this is just me being self indulgent lol. also disclaimer i know some of the pictures are not from the country i said the vacation is in, bear with me lol. hope you enjoy and drop me any pref requests you might have!

Lando Norris

Destination: Finland

Lando always went on a ski trip with his friends during the winter break and this year he invited you to go along. You started on the easier slopes, as you both had to get the hang of skiing again, but by the end of the day you were tackling some of the more difficult ones along with your group of friends. Afterwards, the group settled down in the ski lodge with cups of hot chocolate around a crackling fire. You all spent a few hours joking around and catching up after not having all been together for a while. To finish off the day, you and Lando went alone to the sauna where you had the chance to decompress together before heading to bed. All in all, the day was well spent and you asked Lando when you would be able to come back even though you knew the answer would be next year.

Oscar Piastri

Destination: New Zealand

During the winter break, you and Oscar did not want to travel too far from his home in Australia, so you decided to go to the nearby country of New Zealand. Both of you loved staying at the beach and so you decided to spend most of your days at the scenic shores of the country. After having a relaxing time at the beach, you decided to tour the country’s mountains together and to take in the beautiful views. A personal highlight for you is a romantic dinner with Oscar in the stunning city of Queenstown. All in all, it is a relaxing trip far from the pressures of racing that brings the two of you unforgettable memories.

Max Verstappen

Destination: Italy

For Max, a vacation was any time he could spend completely away from racing with you and his friends. So, instead of traveling far away from his apartment in Monaco, he wasted no time in going on a boating trip with all his favorite people along the Italian coast. You both spent days lounging on the deck together and nights drinking with the group at the yacht’s bar. The sea made for a perfect getaway from Max’s fast paced life and you could not be happier to get some time with your boyfriend in such a scenic place. Relaxing in the waves truly made for a great time.

Charles Leclerc

Destination: Los Angeles

Your favorite place to visit together was definitely LA. You both had friends who lived there so it only made sense to take a trip there when you both were free. You spent the days on the beach with him, either surfing if the waves were nice or simply sunbathing otherwise. Charles also convinced you to go on the most extreme rides at all of the amusement parks, giving you an adrenaline rush that kept you wanting more. So many laughs were had with each of your friends, especially when Charles insisted on winning you a giant Ferrari colored banana plush at the arcade. You had no idea where you would find space for it in your apartment, but you knew you would cherish the memories it brought to mind.

Carlos Sainz

Destination: Miami

To Carlos, it would not be a good vacation without some golf. So, you both decided to head to Miami where you could find the best of what both of you loved doing, golf and relaxing on the beach. While Carlos golfed in the mornings, you relaxed on the beachfront balcony of the house you were staying in. And during the afternoons, you would both head to the beach to relax in the sand and waves. One morning you decided to spice things up and have Carlos try to teach you to golf, but after accidentally hitting the ball into someone else’s golf cart, you quickly scrapped that idea. Your favorite memory of the trip was definitely the day you spent completely together on a snorkeling trip to see a nearby coral reef.

Lewis Hamilton

Destination: Dubai

When Lewis wasn’t racing, he still loved to be doing something adventurous. Lucky for him, you shared his love of an adrenaline rush. So the perfect destination was Dubai. Every day was filled with excitement, from riding ATVs though the desert to eating at luxurious restaurants in the city. Lewis even convinced you to go skydiving with him at the end of your trip which was an experience you knew you would never forget. There was never a dull moment when you and Lewis traveled together and you knew that once this vacation ended, you would already be planning for another.

Daniel Ricciardo

Destination: Austin

Everyone knew one of Daniel’s favorite places was Austin, Texas. So when he had a week off after the race in Texas, Daniel of course convinced you to stay with him on vacation there for the next few days. He took you to his favorite bars and barbecue restaurants to savor the food. He also took you to a ranch where you got to ride horses through the American countryside. On the last day of the trip, the two of you decided to go to a country music concert and dance the night away. Both of you loved music and so this was the perfect memory to end what was a great few days of exploring the Texan landscape. And of course you had to get a souvenir cowboy hat to remember the trip by.

Yuki Tsunoda

Destination: Mexico

As you and Yuki are both foodies, you decided to go to a place with one of your favorite cuisines, Mexico. You arranged to travel throughout the country to try different foods from various regions. Between meals, you would spend time seeing some of Mexico’s most scenic beaches and visiting some of the tourist destinations like Chichen Itza. The best part, however, was getting to spend so much uninterrupted time with your boyfriend who was always away from home. Though you knew Yuki lived the fast life, all you wanted to do with him was relax. And what better place to do it than in such a warm and beautiful country. As for your favorite food you tried? There were too many good dishes to choose!

Alex Albon

Destination: Phuket

Alex was thrilled when you agreed to go to the country he raced for. When you got there, he excitedly showed you around all of the sights and took you to eat his favorite local food. After a few days of frantically touring Alex’s favorite places, you both decided that it wasn’t truly a vacation unless you relaxed a little bit. So, you spent the rest of the week at the beach in each other’s arms, just savoring the other’s company. There were a few splash fights in the pool and the time where you jokingly pushed Alex off of the boat, but otherwise you spent your time relaxing on the sand. Thai sunsets were truly like no other and you knew you would savor your memories for years to come.

Logan Sargeant

Destination: USA

When you realized that Logan hadn’t traveled much around his own country outside of Florida, you immediately decided that you were going on a road trip to fix that. The plan was that you would go up the east coast, stopping in all of the major cities to see the sights. From Carolina beaches to the nation’s capital, there were surely a lot of things to do. And when you had a boyfriend who drove cars for a living, of course you got to the be the passenger princess. Every time a road sign showed something that sounded cool, you insisted that you stop. Your personal favorite destination was New York, where you got to show Logan a lot of the famous landmarks that everybody would recognize. Once you hit Boston, you decided to head back south to his home state and warmer weather. You would cherish these memories forever.

[wjhik]

Any More? (Virgil Van Dijk) *Smut*

A/N: we need more big virg writers because this is criminal

based on:

7:40-8:05

Y/N’s POV: 

“So, any more kids on the way?” My aunt asks me. Virgil and I are visiting my family at my mom's house, and, as per usual, my auntie is interrogating me. “Auntie, I just had a baby a year and a half ago. No harm in taking a break.” I say, juggling our youngest daughter in my arms while reaching for her pacifier. “Don’t you want to try for a boy?” I roll my eyes at that comment. Virgil and I are more than happy with our 3 girls. I simply shrug at her, attempting to ignore her old ways. “Wouldn’t you love a boy to carry on your legacy, Virgil?”, referring to his football career. I look at Virgil, waiting for his answer. “Anything my sons could do, my daughters can as well.” He calmly explains, quickly shutting down her bogus remarks. 

↭

“Kids, come on. We have to go.” I say to my two older girls. “No, mama! Can we stay over? Please??” The oldest begs. “Please, mama. Everyone is staying over with Teta (grandma), can we too??” My secondborn says. I look at Virgil, expecting some backup. “Hey, maybe it’s not such a bad idea. The baby is already asleep, why wake her up?” Virgil says. I look over to my lastborn who is asleep on my mom’s couch. I look up in both frustration and contemplation. “Y/N, they’re more than welcome to stay over.” My mom chimes in. I look down at my daughters looking up at me with pleading eyes. I look to my right to see my husband looking down at me, something behind his eyes that I can’t pinpoint. I look to my left to see my mom playing with the other kids. 

“Alright, fine.” I say which is followed by an eruption of screams and cheers from my daughters then followed up by shushing from my husband, pointing to their sleeping younger sister. 

↭

“Bye, babygirls. I love you and be good!” I say as Virgil ushers me out of my childhood home. We walk down the driveway as Virgil goes on about his day, upcoming games, his co-captaincy with Trent, etc as I listen. He opens the car door of his Mercedes and helps me in. 

“So, first night away from the girls. How do you feel?” Virgil asks me, breaking our comfortable silence. “I’m more nervous for my mom, to be fair. You know how tired we get with 3 girls. Imagine what my mom’s going through with 8 of them.” I joke. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. I mean, she raised you.” Virgil replies. “Yeah, but I was the only girl in my family.” I say. “I’m sure you alone were worse than those 8 girls.” I quickly smack Virgil’s chest with the back of my hand, which was previously resting in his, on my lap. “Hey, I’m driving! That’s a hazard.” I roll my eyes at my far too sassy husband.  

↭

“Sweetheart, we’re home.” I hear as I’m shaken awake. “Hmm? Okay, I’m up.” I say groggily. I throw my arms up in a stretch, unknowingly hitting my husband in the face. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, Virg.” I say, laughing as he rubs his eyes. 

“The house feels odd empty and quiet. It’s as if we don’t have 3 ticking time bombs in bed.” I comment, making my way up the stairs with Virgil following close behind. “It’s almost like that’s what it is.” Virgil retorts. I look down at him and stuck my tongue out playfully. I turn my head to look in front before I feel a grab on my ass. I slightly jump as I hear a deep giggle from below me. 

↭

Virgil and I are lying in bed together after performing our nightly routines. Virgil has his head in my lap as I sat up and braid his hair, engrossed in the snobby activities of the Dubai Bling cast (best reality show idgaf). “Can you believe Ebrahem? He’s doing way too much.” I comment. (guys i love this show you dont understand. You should all watch it) “Baby?” I heard Virgil say. “Hmm?” I replied. “Let’s do something fun.” He comments. “Hmm? Oh, yeah sure.” I say absentmindedly, focused on my show. Virgil reaches over for the TV remote and turns it off. “HEY!” Virgil is taken aback by my volume and tone of voice. “Sorry, but what the fuck? It was getting so good.” I say. “Did you hear me?” Virgil says. “What did you say?” I ask, taking a sip of my wine. “I said let’s have some fun.” Virgil says suggestively. He sits up and takes the wine out of my hand. He reaches over to my side table and flicks off the lamp, leaving only the recently installed LEDs in our room on. Virgil leans over me and pulls me into a heated kiss. I lowly moan into my husband’s skilled lips. “Hold on.” He says, pulling away. 

Virgil reaches around for his phone. He quickly connects it to our built-in and extremely overpriced home sound system he insisted we needed and plays our shared sex playlist which, unfortunately, we haven’t been able to use nearly enough, having to keep quiet due to our daughters.  

I look up at my husband who is now on top of me. “Seriously?” I say questioning his choice of music. “What? You like it and you know it.” He says as he leans in to kiss me once again. “Mmh, Virg…” I say in between kisses. “What do you need, mama?” He whispers into my ear. “You.” I whisper back. He gets off me and takes off his shirt and leans back in to kiss me. I run my nails up and down his sides which makes him shiver. Virgil slowly kisses down my chin, onto my neck. He sucks on the sensitive spot behind my ear. “Oh, fuck. Virg…” I mewl, grabbing onto his hair, loosely tied, contrary to his slicked-back look during the day. I feel him release his suction on my neck and give my fresh bruise a light kiss. 

Virgil slides himself down my body to where I need him most. He undoes my house robe to reveal me in my panties. He taps my hips, signaling me to lift them up so he can take off my clothes. He comes back up and starts sucking on my nipple, rolling the other in his hand. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He says into me. “Virgil, please. I need you.” I say, my chest heaving. I sit up underneath him, and he gets off me. I pull him to sit on the bed while I get on the carpeted floor, in between his legs. “Can I?” I ask him, pressing on his hard-on through his sweatpants. He lets out a light laugh at me still asking him every single time, without fail, despite all the years together. “Of course, sweetheart.” With his permission, I pull his trousers and underwear down, enough for his dick to spring out at me. 

I let out a sigh as I looked at my husband's horse-cock. (lol im so funny) Virgil grabs the back of my head gently and looks down at me. “Well, go on then, love.” He says encouragingly. I slowly sink my mouth onto him as he groans. I try to go as deep as I can without gagging, however it is inevitable. My eyes start watering as I’m slobbering over Virgil's dick. He pulls me off him and holds my chin up. He leans down and kisses me before pushing me down on him. I bob my head on his dick and suck on his tip, earning a hearty moan from Virgil. “Fuck, love, you keep going like that we’re gonna be done real soon.” He says, pulling me up. 

I climb up my abnormally big husband and give him a sloppy kiss and move to kiss his neck. He gently grabs my neck and makes me face him. I stare into his eyes, very obviously drunk off his dick. I let out a giggle and kiss him more. He grabs me and places me on the bed and turns me onto my stomach. I hear him ridding himself of his remaining clothes behind me. Before I know it, one of his hands lands on my ass, making me yelp. He laughs and leans down to kiss me. I turn my head back and our lips meet. He pulls away and opens the drawer next to our bed. He pulls out a bottle of lube we often use when having sex and squeezes it in his hand. He strokes his dick with it, getting it wet. Then, squeezes some directly onto me, knowing that I like how it feels against me. I hiss at the feeling. “Mmm, it’s cold…” I say. “I know, baby.” Virgil says, lining himself up with me. 

He pushes into me as I let my head drop into the pillow. “Mmm, Fucckkk…” Virgil moans. “You’re so big, Virgil.” I say, clinging onto my husband’s arm, which is propping him up. “Can I-” I quickly interrupt him. “Yes, please. Please fuck me.” He lets out a laugh. “Always so needy for me.” He starts thrusting in and out at a brutal pace. I let out all sorts of erotic noises before I put my hand over my mouth to silence myself. Virgil quickly notices this. “Hey, I wanna hear all those pretty noises. There’s no girls, you don’t have to be quiet.” He reminds me. I remove my hand from my mouth and let myself feel good. 

“Fuck, Virg- I’m gonna cum..” I say, my voice shaking as he pounds into me. “Hmm, already?” He teases. “Viirrrgg!” I half moan half yell. “I’m just kidding. Cum for me, sweetheart. I wanna feel you around me.” He encourages me through my orgasm. “Fuck, I’m close too, baby.” He says, as he relentlessly fucks me, searching for his high. Just as I feel him beginning to spasm, something hits me. “Wait, Virgil. Pull ou-” But I was too late. Virgil fucked me down from his high. He collapsed into my back. “Virg, get off. I can’t breathe.” I laugh. 

↭

Virgil is resting on my chest after he cleaned us up. “Hey, maybe your aunt is right. Another wouldn’t hurt.” He says. “Oh, so that was your ulterior motive.” I say disappointedly. “Virgil pokes me in my side, knowing I’m not serious. “I’m just kidding. I would love to have another baby with you.” 

A/N: always happy with domestic smuts 😋😋

[best-iwtv-scene]

ROUND 1B, MATCH 8

Descriptions/Propaganda under the cut:

Dreamstat letter scene (2x02)

In an attempt to settle his paranoia over Lestat coming back for revenge, Louis visits a law firm where Lestat had his finances. To his surprise, Louis is given a letter signed by Lestat to be given to him in the event of his death. As Louis opens the letter, he hallucinates Lestat taking the paper from his hands. Dreamstat is wearing the suit he wore when going to meet the de Pointe du Lac family and he speaks the letter to Louis. The contents of the letter are hauntingly romantic, highlighting the thin line between loving devotion and possessive obsession that is inherent to the two vampires' relationship. The visit to the law firm instead increases Louis's paranoia, the letter, presumably written no longer than a few years into their relationship, sounding more threatening than affectionate due to the cause of Lestat's demise. The scene shows the fear and guilty attraction he still feels towards Lestat even years after their separation. "A veil will now forever separate our union. But it is a thin veil and I am always on the other side... face pressed up against your longing."

Propaganda:

I died. that's it, that's the propaganda

Submitted by @jameslongforjimshortforgabriel

Claudia’s turning revisited (2x07)

As Lestat recounts his perception of events on the night of Claudia's turning, it switches between the trial in Paris, the interview in Dubai and the night in New Orleans, playing quite differently from in 1x04. Lestat describes a greatly distressed Louis begging him to turn the young girl into a vampire, despite Lestat's warning about the 'Great Laws' and the pain it will cause them all. Louis, in his desperation, manipulates Lestat into turning Claudia, promising he will never leave Lestat if he does this one thing. In Paris, Louis objects to this version of events, loudly denying it as Claudia looks at him, unsure what to believe. In Dubai, Louis, with some difficulty, admits that Lestat's recollection was more accurate. The scene is disturbing, particularly due to the way Claudia is treated. The young girl, practically a stranger to Louis and Lestat, is dragged along the floor and treated like an object, or something to aid them, either in their relationship or personally. Additionally, in his guilt over admitting the truth of events, present-day Louis looks over to Dreamstat sitting across from him in the Dubai apartment, the only time such a thing happens in the show so far. "She will be at war with herself. She is of an age where her emotions will soar and plummet, mountains and valleys every day of her life!" "I don't care!" "Well, you must care! [...] And she will be miserable and you will love her!"

Propaganda:

No propaganda was submitted for this scene.

[nalyra-dreaming]

Why are we assuming they need to rebuild the Dubai set to show Daniel's turning?

Louis left Dubai for long enough to visit Lestat and then came back to no Armand and no Daniel and Daniel went home to finish editing

The time gap between the reunion and Daniel going on tv seems very intentional, do whe even know how long is it supposed to be? Books don't get published in a matter of weeks, it takes a year minimum and Daniel's book is not only published, it's already a best seller

My guess is Daniel went home and Armand followed him, then about a year after that he made Daniel a vampire in the privacy of his own home (THEIR own home?)

There is definitely the possibility of a gap yes. There very likely is a lot more to it.

[besttimetogo2]

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