#i joke but this actually does take place in my silly little AU!

[yogurtea]

Ice cream on the way back from school :)

#au where shin eats things other than warm soup #i joke but this actually does take place in my silly little AU! #as do most of my other scenes of the cast just hangin out! #so send an ask if you wanna hear more about that ig. or don't it's whatever #yttd #your turn to die #kimi ga shine #kanna kizuchi #kugie kizuchi #shin tsukimi #this is the second to last piece in my backlog!! the next one i'll probably post in a week or so. maybe less #it's a silly one :3 i think you guys will like it #my art #yogurt's yttd au

[mncein]

hello !! can i request for newjeans where they react to their s/o looking good in glasses and their s/o being popular due to their nerdy look?

will do !! thanks anon for this request, enjoy~

notes : this will be in high school au :)

hcs and scenarios ahead !!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

— MINJI

the type of person to judge you a bit but soon to realize that you look even good with your glasses on. casually stealing glances from you during class, and one time in gym that a sport where a ball is included, you had to take off your glasses and you placed them by minji's seat. and almost everyone didn't seem to know you because you had your glasses off. and now you're known as 'pretty with glasses on, even prettier when off.' she's like, shocked, when you became popular because of it. she doesn't mind but the thought of someone crushing on you has been invading her mind recently.

— "hey, you look so funny." minji laughs, she hands you your glasses back after pe. and the both of you are outside, in the courtyard.

"how so? i just took off my glasses." you ask, rubbing your eyes before putting your glasses back on. minji doesn't answer as she stares at you, taking her time to admire your eyes.

"they're definitely right." she mumbles out of nowhere. and you don't know what she's referring to, you just spoke to each other just now, after all.

"what do you mean?" you tilt your head.

"that you look prettier with your glasses off."

— HANNI

doesn't mind at all! whether your glasses are on or not, she still sees you as her wonderful lover. but actually cares for yout eyesight, thought of something silly where you mistaken her as haerin. she just loves you and cares for you, but since you're getting a lot more attention and popularity, she was just happy for you. but still quite shocked because you weren't that popular when you first met. she loves to borrow your glasses, but she doesn't wear it over her eyes, but over her head. she has a lot of pictures of it on. and she sends them to you whenever she has one.

— "i love your glasses so much. it suits you the best." hanni spoke while sitting on her seat during break time.

"really? no one compliments my glasses, that's a first." you adjust your glasses so it doesn't fall off. hanni turns to you with a confused face.

"they don't?" she asks. not believing what you just said. how could they not compliment your glasses if you're this popular now?

"would you be mad if i tell you that they've been complimenting my face and not my glasses?" you ask, it's pretty much of what's happening everyday in school.

she shakes her head, "no, not at all. i actually agree with them." she smiles and nudged you playfully.

— DANIELLE

she has one herself! (i just see her with glasses in this high school au 😭). would ask you to have matching glasses colors and stickers. she prefers your plain glasses though, dani jokes about being harry potter when she brought a stick with her so randomly when you both went to see more glasses designs 😭 she finds you cool like the others, even if with your nerdy look, she'll love you no matter what <3 she's not against with you being popular around the school, but like minji, she worries about other people admiring you.

— "hello my little intelligent bird~" danielle hops on your side while you were checking some books in the library.

"bird?" you ask, setting what you're doing aside and turned to look at her.

"just saw a picture of a bird in instagram wearing the same glasses as you! but i prefer your version, it's much cuter." danielle shares with such joy on her face.

"i'm not a bird." you chuckled.

"you are, let me give an example. i tried to stop you from studying, but all you did was say, 'wait, wait, wait!'." danielle explains, she looks at you with an expecting face that you don't get it.

"that doesn't make any sense."

she shakes her head and laughs, "what does a bird say? 'wait, wait, wait!'." (please tell me you get it 😭)

— HAERIN

expect silence from this girl. she's just staring at you 😭 a wave of wows exit her mouth while she watches you work on a project. telling you how much your glasses looks good on you while you're busy and focused. she was honestly shocked when she found out that your source of popularity was from your glasses. she always believed that your pretty face was the cause of their attraction. since she sits far away from your during class, she seriously took this opportunity to stare at you the whole time.

— "haerin, you're staring again." you groan, you've been talking to her for a while now during lunch break.

"sorry, you're just so undeniably pretty." she admits with a sly smile.

"seriously?"

"seriously." she repeats, she raises her hand that you thought was gonna cup your cheek. but instead, she snatched your glasses and wore it.

"haerin." you sighed, she's been stealing your glasses whenever she can so she can use it for silly reasons.

"i love it. but i love you more." she says and pecks your cheek.

— HYEIN

like haerin, she likes to steal your glasses and take pictures with it just like hanni. one time she used it, she faked being dizzy so she can fall in your arms and pretend as a princess 😭 loves your popularity, she's popular herself. being the tall girl crush of the campus and dating the hot nerd. but feels jealous when her friends talk about you so much when it's her responsibility to brag about you. :( and absolutely loves to BRAG about you.

— "i love the glasses." said some girls passing by you.

hyein eyes them as they walk away, rolling her eyes in response.

"they don't know i only get to say that to you." hyein crosses her arms and pouts.

"forget about them, they don't have me but you do." you smile.

"i know. but still." hyein huffs and rolls her eyes at the girl's once again.

"there's nothing to worry about. you're much better than them." you reassure.

"i also and always love the glasses. by the way." she adds cutely.

#kpop #new jeans #new jeans x reader #new jeans imagines #minji x reader #hanni x reader #danielle x reader #haerin x reader #hyein x reader #cein's anon requests #cein's new jeans

[takingback-thepenguin]

This isn’t exactly an NPMD AU per se, but it is a concept. I hope you guys like it!

So here, have some thoughts on the NP characters + hypnosis. This idea totally didn’t come from the line in Dirty Girl when Max says “I swear you’ve got me hypnotized” and moves his finger in a circle while Grace follows.

This concept would likely take place in a timeline where Max either chooses not to be a bully or chooses to become a better person post Waylon Place, and as a result, is a bit nicer, but still has that quarterback/leader of the pack mentality. Additionally, I think the characters would be out of high school and in college.

So, starting with Max…if Max was going to be the hypnotist, here’s how I think it’d go.

He’d be firm but he’s sort of gentle. His voice has power to it. There’s a bit of an assertion of a kinda “focus on me” but it’s not loud. He makes people want to focus. He charms and captivates.

He doesn’t use pocketwatches or pendulums or spirals. Because while yeah, they work, he feels it’s easier for people to focus if it’s all coming from one spot (plus…he likes the focus all on him). Because of that he’ll use solely his voice or he’ll use his hand or his eyes as a focal point. If someone wants like a pendulum or spiral kind of induction he’ll try to replicate it with his finger.

There are points where when he’s guiding his subject, he’ll tell them to repeat him.

A lot of the people he encounters are because they’re stressed and want to turn the thoughts down a bit. They need a bit of order and instruction for a little while, and he’s happy to provide that.

A friend of mine also came up with a thought about Max that I agree with: even if he’s not a bully, he still does have that leader/top of the social hierarchy energy about him, and they thought a good way to keep that characterization is that he can get a little…for a lack of a better word…commanding, making induction loops and bringing people up, only to drop them down. To add on to that, induction wise I bet he makes his subject keep their eyes open/keeps them from dropping until he says so. He keeps the induction going for a while, maybe he even makes them count themself down (and maybe makes them start from the top if they miss a number). But they don’t go under until he tells them to sleep.

Now for the flip side, where Max is a subject:

The hardest part is to get him to let go but if he does, he's out. Even if he’s not a bully, giving up control is still hard for him because of his status and school and the pressure of being a quarterback and just general stress. Life isn’t easy and because of where he is in life he feels pressure to strategize and watch his every move. And once you’re in that kind of mindset, it’s hard to get out, even if you want to.

I also think once he’s under all he’d want is to let himself be vulnerable, take a breather, and be himself and not the front he puts up.

Additionally, I once made a joke that he could be the "I can't be hypnotized" *cuts to the character hypnotized* trope…if it didn’t take him so long to actually get there.

Next here are my thoughts on Richie, if he was the hypnotist:

I think Richie definitely went through a wanting to play hypnotist phase as a kid (which is not as common as my childhood led me to believe). He likely saw it in an anime and decided he wanted to try his hand at it.

Richie as a hypnotist would be the opposite of Max in a way. He’s not loud per se, but he likes all the different ways you can put a person under. And since he likes all the things you see in the movies and on tv, he’d have an array of inductions up his sleeve instead of one specific one like Max.

He definitely would say the “you’re getting sleepy” line at some point.

I think he’d post videos about it. They’d range from informative to him being silly.

I think he’d lean into showmanship a lot as a hypnotist.

Now for the flip side:

If Richie goes under as a subject…he goes under really quickly. Part of it is Richie is really creative and imaginative, and the other part is school and life can be stressful so he’d want to not have to deal with that for a bit.

I also don’t think he’d really have an issue with letting go. I don’t think he’d be as in his head about it as say Ruth or Pete would.

Next up is Pete. While Pete would most likely be the subject, I do have thoughts where he could be the hypnotist:

He would only do this if one of his friends asked him to put them under.

Pete likely wouldn’t want to use spirals or watches or anything unless asked. He’d probably solely use his voice and have his friends stare at the ceiling while he reads from a script, because he’d probably feel goofy doing it.

He doesn’t want the focus on him, but Pete would do anything for his friends, and if this helps them get out of their heads and deal with their stress, he’ll gladly help.

On the other hand, Pete is a tricky subject:

Pete (at least NPMD wise…at first) is closer to Max as a subject. He's smart and strategic. He carefully plans things to avoid certain situations happening (even if they don’t always go according to plan). But if someone he trusts pitches the idea, he may just give it a go.

He wants to let go because it'd be nice to not have to worry about what everyone else is thinking for once. But that's also the reason he's afraid to. He knows that he might say or do something he didn't plan on even if he knows he's in control. While he wouldn't do something completely out of character, if someone asked him what he was thinking while under, he might say it without filtering himself and that's scares him. He’s been burned before and he’s afraid if he lets his guard down, it could happen again.

Ruth is more likely to be on the subject side of things, but like Pete, she’s a tricky one too:

Ruth, like Pete, has a tendency to get in her head and let her worries and anxiety win.

I think she might want to go under because it could help her with her anxiety and stress. But I also think it would take a while because she has to get out of her head and push her anxiety away. We’ve seen her do it before, but it’s not an easy task for her. She may want it to work, but I feel that there’s a part of her that would hold back.

If she manages to get over that hurdle though, I think she’d be happy to not have to worry about everything that’s stressing her out.

Grace is also interesting to think about as a subject:

Grace I think would be similar to Max. She’d be the “I can’t be hypnotized.” *cuts to the character hypnotized* trope if she’d let herself let go. She also has issues letting go because GOD FORBID she feels herself slip.

She’s also very strategic in watching her (and everyone else’s) every move, and I think it’d be hard for her to let go of that. Even if she’s told it’s okay. I think she’d be too focused on that and she’d get in her own head.

Like Max though, if she does let go, I think she’s out.

Last but not least, we have Steph:

Steph doesn’t really believe in it. But she’s there for support if her friends want someone there. Maybe if Pete asked her to put him under, she’d do it? If not, she’d be there holding his hand the entire time.

#here’s the au concept i’ve been hinting about #the hypnerdy prudes concept/au #hatchetfield #nerdy prudes must die #npmd #pete spankoffski #richie lipschitz #ruth fleming #grace chasity #stephanie lauter #max jagerman #my au #i speak

[suguwuus]

2. PYJAMA PANTS

hey hi :D oneshots for the white boy that has had me in a chokehold since 2019. these are also available on wattpad but pls. i was 12. stay here, it's better if you don't see what i've done in the past JOKE but i was crazy fr. im matured now promise. speaking of wattpad i'm rewriting all of these so it'll be a while until this is complete

note: all of these from no. 1-12 are fem!reader

TRACKLIST.

1. study session - (hogwarts!au) you have a bitter history with a certain slytherin, the same one professor potter assigns you to tutor!

2. pretty impressive, huh? - (peculiar!au) set during the events of a map of days/desolation of devil's acre. contains minor spoilers for the latter. connor protects his favorite seedsprout when caul's buddies appear knocking on their door.

3. only you - a new girl is sent to camp half-blood by her demigod parents in new rome. how cool! you know who else thinks she's cool? connor. ooh, she sees to have him whipped. what do you think about this?

4. light in the dark - you're off on a quest with a blond and a brunette. and judging by how the train shudders, something scaly has joined your trio.

5. reassurance - the second titan war has everyone on edge, including you. what better way to be comforted by your close friend, connor?

6. cliché - caught up in a puppy crush on your cousin's friend, you find yourself daydreaming and smiling giddily over what could be.

7. lifetime - hours before the wedding, you look back on what could have been.

8. little games - little games your boyfriend lies to play with you, to see that smile he adores.

9. take my place - a hopeless romantic, fervently reading each word, turning each page with their fingertips on fire. it does feel much better when they're actually in your arms, though.

10. homecoming - connor promises to tell you something if you both survive the war. what a silly promise to keep. it's as if you're not going to battle age-old greek monsters, instead you're mortal kids doing mortal kid things. pfft. as if you'll ever get a taste of that.

11. undercover - connor bumps into a familiar face, a child of nike to be specific. he patches her up whilst reminiscing on a shared memory of theirs. maybe there's something behind those stolen glances and nervous chuckles.

12. nice - a daughter of athena has no idea what to do with connor's mixed signals. the hell you mean, i'm "not the ugliest thing" you've seen?

submit requests here!

#— suguwuu's posts #connor stoll #connor stoll x reader #pjo x reader #pjo oneshots #pjo

[rosethreeart]

Arthur gets some Flashbacks to His Youth™️

Based off of this little convo with apersonwholikeslotus :>

I...Started writing cause this thought consumed my brain for a moment so here have a little snippet of the School of Punk AU of how this scene actually plays out :}

Arthur could hear the sound of his daughter’s pounding feet against the wood of the floor before he even saw her.

“Dad!” Abigail exclaimed, the flooring  beneath rapidly squeaked as eagerly shuffled in place.

Not wanting to lose his place in his book, he halfheartedly paid attention to her as he searched for his bookmark, “Yes, poppet?”

A few more footsteps later, this time muffled by the carpet she had just stepped onto, Arthur could see the silhouette of his daughter in his peripheral. 

Ah, there it was. Cheeky little thing slipped between the couch cushions. 

“Daaaaaad!” His daughter whined.

Sighing as he finished placing the bookmark in its designated slot, he looked up at her.

There she was, standing in the living room in his old punk jacket. It was a red so dark it was almost black, just like his daughter’s long and wildly curly hair. The patches he had sown on it when he was but a teen were still there, although some were fraying at the seams. The leather seemed to be fine, no leather rot in sight, much to his subconscious relief. It fit poorly on her as it was a few sizes too big, almost completely enveloping her arms and hands. 

“What do you think? Pretty cool, innit?” Abigail said as she gave a little twirl, showing it off.

“Yeah…” He said, not fully present in the moment. 

Abigail immediately stopped her little modeling gig, “Something wrong?” she asked.

Arthur blinked a few times in order to force himself to focus,”No. No, nothing is wrong.”

His daughter began to play with one of the small little pieces on the jacket,”Are you sure? I know I’m not really supposed to go up to the attic by myself, and—”

“It’s alright,” He said, cutting her off gently as he stood up. Were his knees always this achy? 

A bittersweet smile graced his lips as he approached his daughter who was staring curiously at him with bright hazel eyes. 

“That was my jacket you know,” He began to say as he adjusted said clothing to better fit the girl, “ Actually, I got it when I was about your age; maybe a little bit older.”

“Am I getting some dad lore?” Abigail said in that blunt manner of hers.

Arthur did a slight double-take, “Pardon?”

“Y’know? Dad lore? Where your dad never really talks about anything from their past until really random moments and it’s always the most bizarre thing you’ve ever heard?” Abigail stated as if she was asking him if he knew what a bird was. 

“No need to get cheeky,” he chided, “but I see your point.”

His eyes’ softened as he watched her nose crinkle and her braces-filled smile widened as she giggled. 

“Do you want it?” He asked her, “I…suppose I have no use for it anymore.”

“Does that make you sad?” Abigail said, tilting her head slightly.

Arthur chuckled, “I suppose the ever creeping march of time can be a bit disheartening, but it can be a wonderful thing too.”

“Are you getting sappy on me?” 

“Oh, very much so,” He said as he pulled his little one into a hug, which she gleefully returned. 

“Are you sure I can have it,” She asked, voice muffled by his sweater.

He caressed her leather coated arm with his thumb. It was odd to feel the leather of it on his skin again. It had been so many years since he had last seen, let alone felt it…

“Of course, darling.” He planted a quick kiss on her head, “Would much rather have you wear it than let it keep collecting dust up there.”

“Be careful with it,” He said a little more sternly than he intended, “it’s old…and important…and valuable…and—”

“I get it,” Abigail groaned, “it’s a frail old man whose seen stuff, just like you.” a smirk appeared on her face in that silly little way it did when she was joking.

“Oi!” He feigned hurt feelings, ”I’m not that old.”

“You’re getting there!”

“Don’t make me take that bloody jacket back.” He replied dryly.

“Nooo!” She laughed.

Arthur watched as Abigail eventually flitted away to show off her jacket to her step-brother. That thing had been there for him in his darkest of times, the weight it carried will always be there with him, even if the jacket no longer was. It was still hard to let that era of his life go, it seemed, however he was very glad that it found a new home with someone that he knew would love it just as dearly as he did. 

#hetalia #my art #aph nyo america #my writing #school of punk au #if you couldn't tell I drew the doodles before I wrote which is why he's still holding the book open LMAO

[spaceyflowerswriting]

What if a scenario about DG being in a romantic relationship with a high schooler reader?

whoops... (james lee x reader; highschool au)

details: fluffy/silly drabble, gender neutral reader written in 2nd pov, general canon/highschool au, you and james are dating

summary: you and your boyfriend head to his place after a date and come across a... surprise??

a/n: u meant like. highschool au right? bc dg is an adult so him being with a reader in high school would just be wrong ?? either way that's what im doing;; thanks for the request !

(this is set in the same universe as this james drabble i wrote a while back i.e. kouji and crystal are his younger siblings)

×

A sigh of relief came out of you and James as you both entered his home. The wave of cool air from his house's AC compared to the scorching heat waves outside was beyond relieving.

"Finally," you murmured, turning off the mini fan James bought for you in the middle of your date with him at the carnival. You hurriedly took off your shoes and ran towards the couches. After dropping the bags of carnival prizes in your hand on the floor, you sat down on the couch, leaning your head back.

James hummed and walked over to you, standing behind the couch to look down at you. He patted your cheek with a smile. "Sorry for making you go on that walk with me after our date."

"You should be, my legs are aching." He laughed at your half-joke and just leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead.

"Mwah. I think that about does it for an apology."

Playfully scoffing at that, you sat up and watched him walk off, disappearing around a corner into the kitchen. You cupped a hand around your mouth and yelled, "Don't you think I at least deserve a leg massage?"

He called back, "I can give that to you later if you'd like, but how does a snack sound for now?"

"Well, count me in!" Grinning, you practically jumped off the couch and stumbled your way over into the kitchen.

James was looking through the refrigerator. "Anything's up for grabs." He turned to look at you as you entered. "Except pastries. I think Crystal and Kouji ate them all up again."

You chuckled and started to dig through the cupboards. "Must be nice living with annoying younger siblings."

"Oh, you bet." He replied in a lighthearted, sarcastic way and you sympathized with him. Crystal was sometimes a bit much, but Kouji was definitely a troublemaker.

"Speaking of your siblings... they've still got a lot of growing up to do, obviously, but they're really smart for their age."

"Unfortunately."

You laughed a little and grabbed a snack that caught your eye before closing the cupboard. "You're really smart for your age, too, you know?"

James closed the refrigerator, taking out a bowl of grapes. He gestured for you to join him at the dining table as he walked away, replying, "You think so?"

"Uh, yes? Like seriously, how are you so put together with so many talents? We're only highschool students, but you act so much like an adult." You followed after him and sat down in the seat he pulled out for you. "I don't think I've ever even seen you study once."

"Hm..." James shrugged a bit. "I guess it's the natural talents of a genius?" He chuckled when you rolled your eyes.

"Sure. By the way, you know about our test next week?"

"Uh-huh?" He pulled out a chair for himself and nodded along as you rambled. Right as he took a seat though, you went dead silent when there came the sound of a... whoopie cushion.

You weren't sure if you wanted to laugh or look away in second hand embarrassment so you ended up with a shocked expression, lips thinned to try to prevent a smile.

James somehow didn't look embarrassed himself, only confused.

Thankfully, within the split second of you and James reacting, two loud bursts of laughter were heard not too far away.

"YOU ACTUALLY GOT HIM?!" Goo's voice. "HOW?! HE NEVER FALLS FOR MY PRANKS!"

"I TOLD YOU HE LETS HIS GUARD DOWN EASILY WHENEVER HE'S WITH HIS PARTNER!" Kouji's voice. "NOW GIVE ME THE MONEY YOU PROMISED!"

"ONLY IF YOU MAKE IT OUT ALIVE!"

"HUH--?!"

You and James turned to see Goo sprinting down the stairs, laughing along the way. The front door was heard being slammed open, and then Kouji came down the stairs after, also sprinting like his life depended on it. Which it probably did.

"Um." You were rendered speechless.

Your boyfriend gently set his bowl of grapes down. "It's one thing if they prank me, but to do so while I'm with you..." He shook his head and smiled sweetly. "Can you give me a second, babe? I'll be right back." He stood up and you could only watch in even more shock as he ran off.

That was the fastest you'd seen him run in a while.

Once he was gone and silence fell in the house, you could hear distant screaming. You finally let yourself laugh at the absurdity of what just happened.

#lookism x reader #james lee x reader #james lee #dg lookism #requests #sorry if this isnt exactly romantic 😭 #my only prompt was 'romantic relationship' so i just wrote james and reader dating #also sorry if james is ooc here #my poor excuse is that i was fistfighting writer's block and just wanted to have fun writing so- #i pushed it a little with his chara to make this silly scenario work 💔

[skekilla]

just some sketches i had done on paper and which are now here on digital for my au! from top right, to left, then down again and again:

first drawing i had done of minnie!

first one of oswald as well! you’ll see he has a camera here. like ive said before, oswald is really out here trying to escape toontown. part of that is gathering evidence and scouting pictures as logistics for his plans! also, being technologically minded, hes certainly made really really cool cameras and gadgets that can do all sorts of things to help him out!

just a little redraw of funny from the new mickey mouse cartoons i think its silly. btw! in this au mickey and minnie are fully married and in love as usual. they did get married as part of a publicity stunt at the opening of toontown but,,, they would have anyway hehe

anyway mickey and oswald, as usual, have a strained relationship! they dont really get each other, and that makes mickey feel awkward and oswald feel frustrated. mickey will just generally try to avoid him (not out of malice of course! just to avoid ticking his brother off), and oswald likes to gripe about mickey behind his back (usually to pete. we’ll get to pete later). in the end, though, they do care a lot about each other (only OSWALD can make fun of mickey!! he’ll fight anyone else who does). anyway, heres mickey laughing at something oswald said, which wasnt actually a joke!

another thing from the new cartoons that i thought was funny. mickey gets injured pretty often because of the shenanigans that go down in toontown! but the good thing is toons cant die by any means other than being forgotten. it still hurts tho ;(

now heres the miserable thing! when oswald was supposed to be returning to disney in 2006 (btw toontown was opened in 2000! so mickey and everyone else had already been living there for a while and begun to experience the scariness of the place), mickey and he met for the first time in a while, and all was swell. however, mickey knew from the start the danger poor oswald was falling in. he couldnt find a chance to warn him though, until he noticed oswald moving in to his new house, at which point he ran in and basically begged oswald not to stay there, not to let disney take him back. of course, though, it was too late :))) still, though, oswald promises mickey he’ll find a way out. so thats these two images hehe

ever since i first saw that oswald can do funny stuff with his ears i knew his main weapon would be taking one off and using it as a baseball bat! oswald does a lot of fighting in this au but ill get to that hehe

#disney #disney toons #toons #toontown #disney au #au #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #oswald the lucky rabbit #i love u oswald

[eilinelsghost]

7, 14, 15 for the ask game!

Hi friend!! Thanks so much for the ask!

7. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

Hmm, that's a good question. Much like my answer to question 4, I find this to really depend on the fic and context. So for example, in A Shuddering in the Air I found it really easy to write Finrod and Balan was completely eluding me. But when I got to Children of the Sun, I felt like I had completely lost the thread of how to write Finrod and I could not figure him out for the life of me. It was like pulling teeth to get anything out of him.

But a specific character I am dreading trying to write is Galadriel. I don't think she will show up until the Epilogue...but knowing her, she'll insert herself into the middle of the series just because I'm scared shitless of trying to write her. 😂

14. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

Well do we count Atandil as a bunch of one-shots or multi-chaptered? (It's the latter, I think.) I think I'm going to say I prefer multi-chaptered, or multi-installment as the case is currently. I find it really difficult to write concise and self-contained stories - the closest I've come to a successful attempt at a one-shot was Little Lords of the Brine. But that's an area I'd like to grow in as a writer because I really admire a lot of writers who can do those punch-you-in-the-gut one-shots that stick in your mind for ages.

15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

Yes! There are two that simmer in my brain all the time. The first is a modern AU of Finrod and Balan that @actual-bill-potts and I have been half-serious half-joking about cowriting for ages now. Once I finish Atandil, I think we might give that a whirl.

The other also involves @actual-bill-potts, but is an alternate Atandil ending I've promised to write once the series is finished. Which can roughly be summarized as Lúthien is granted a place among mortals because a mortal gave up their spot - a life for a life, basically. Or a fëa for a fëa in this case. And for the premise of this one, that mortal in question would be Balan, who had stubbornly clung on to the edges of Mandos hoping for a last farewell (see Bronwe Athan Harthad for reference on where that idea comes from). Anyway, he ends up taking Lúthien's place among the Firstborn and she takes his place among the Secondborn. Finrod does not know about this exchange until after he is reembodied, so Balan just chills in Valinor for a few hundred years waiting for him.

Quite a silly premise, really, but after writing all the mortal/immortal angst for over a year...well sometimes your girl just wants a make-Balan-immortal fix it. 😂

------

Thanks again for the asks!

#asks and answers #my writing

[pirate-fan-rachelle]

Note: this Gijinka sketch was made in Dec 26 2022

An idea I made year ago!

(Long post ahead)

So..I had this idea during my MU phase and that idea is "what if Johnny has a human friend?"

Sully have Boo, so I thought "You know what? I'm gonna give this Monster a little friend"

So say hello to Sammy!

(2nd note: I was joking on this old sketch about Johnny adopting the child, but, he does gives off the father figure to Sam, because I love Johnny)

(Old quick sketch from Dec 29 2022 that has been redrawn today)

Undercut will show my early concept of this au

In the early concept, Sam is a 4 y/o boy who loves bug, and since his mom work as a entomologist, he's allowed to keep a stag bettle as his pet.

How did Sam met Johnny?

Well...it's still in WIP, in the beta concept,

It takes place right after Monster Inc Movie

Lets just say, Sam accidentally met Johnny somewhere which actually scared Johnny himself (3rd note: I just wanna assume that he still think that human are toxic)

It's like when Sully & Mike are dealing with Boo at their apartment (but slightly different?)

Until someone convinced him that Sam wasn't dangerous

Time skip, One day Johnny finally became Sammy's friend.

So when it's night time, he wait for Johnny to come by just to pick him up to play with him.

Also, Sammy nickname Johnny "Beetle" because his big horn reminded him his pet Stag beetle 🪲

Most part of the stories are pretty obvious that it's still WP / unfinished, and the reason are:

- I don't even know what Johnny's home looked like (assumed he lived in a mansion or something), plus we don't know what Fear Co. Even look like on the inside (if this was necessary to this idea of mine?)

- I'm bad at writing a canon characters' accurate personalities & action (ex. What they do, how they talk and so on..)

- I might have forgotten a lot of parts about MI & MU's stories (I'm not good at remembering thing easily)

- I'm not good at making story, so I wasn't able to execute it well (due to my bad English and grammar and also lack of making good story, I think? English is not my first language anyway nor was I a good writer)

- Lastly, I'm still deciding whether I should make this into a 4 panel mini comic series or not (I was inspired from a certain game creator who made a 4koma series of their new game)

And...that's pretty much it,

Boi was this a long post compared to the post I made about my AB oc's design.

I know this was just a silly idea of mine but I still love this concept regardless.

I'm nervous to post this i public cuz' I think people might find my idea to be weird but I just had this random burst of energy of writing this post from 1 - 2 AM (yes you read that correctly).

Thank you for your time reading this!

End of post, back to sleep 🛌💤

#gijinka #johnny worthington #monster university #johnny Worthington III #Monster inc #I wouldn't say that this idea is cringy but I just want Johnny to have a father figure to little Sammy

[cakesplice]

my silly little non despair dr roomies au ramblings 💭

characters:

main housemates: chiaki + hajime + komaeda (aka tpg) and ibuki

floormates who are also dating main housemates and basically live in their apartment: akane and kaede

other people dating main housemates: maki

regular visitors: chihiro, himiko, kokichi, makoto, almost everyone in sdr2 with a focus on fuyuhiko, kazuichi, and maybe sonia

premise:

all dr casts are involved + hpa is still very much intact (unfortunately) (also i haven't decided if v3 cast also went to hpa or did their own thing lol)

tpg graduated together, alongside the rest of class 77-b and the year before class 78-b

tpg are qpps! platonic partners forever and ever

tpg decided to room with ibuki (much against their will at first since ibuki just needed to place to stay in between gigs but komaeda and ibuki had gotten closer so now she has occupied what was originally just a storage room for tpg)

they live in a 3 bedroom apartment in a skyrise building in the city (room 314 baybeyyy)

komahina share a room with each other while chiaki and ibuki have their own rooms respectively :]

relationships:

main couples: komahina, chikaemaki, miowari

other couples of importance: oumeno and naehiro

besties for the resties: tpg, chiaki + chihiro + himiko, komaeda + ibuki, kuzuhinasouda

komahina reconciled their differences nearing the end of their last term at hpa and took a shot at dating post grad before deciding to move in together a few years into their relationship

(chikaemaki origin story in the works) but chiaki was involved in komahina's plans to move in together in order to 'minimize rent costs' (they did not minimize rent costs) (not that they really needed to lol thank you old schmoney)

kaede lives in the same building as the main housemates and visits regularly! just not as often as akane because she's attached to her piano. chiaki spends as much time in her room as she does in kaede's apartment as they do a lot of parallel play ❤️ maki fucks off regularly for work trips and/or studies abroad though so piano tiles (chiaki and kaede) spend time together with her online gaming because e-daters (derogatory)

ibuki started seeing and dating akane after meeting again a high school reunion so now akane basically lives there (her apt is on the same floor but she's always in room 314 anyway)

oumeno and naehiro are high school sweethearts from their respective high schools ^___^ it did take oumeno longer to figure their shit out though LMFAO

occupations:

to be developed! i did not think that far ahead lol

the au itself takes place a few years after their intended hs graduation so they're all in their early 20s, but i'm not sure if i want them all to be in college / only some of them to be in college / all to be employed (part and/or full time) / etc

i think the only occupations i'm somewhat confident about are: ibuki (part-time singer-songwriter), chiaki (part-time streamer), and komahina are both currently in school working with hajime working part-time and komaeda as his stay-at-home wife (joke joke this is a joke don't k word me ty)

extras:

kaede's hs best friends are rantaro and shuichi who both visit occasionally

maki's hs best friends are kaito (visits occasionally) and himiko (always there)

himiko's hs best friend is angie (lives overseas)

i think apt 314 should have some pets. for funsies <3

🍓🐶🦔 i will keep adding to this post and changing things as i see fit :3 thanks for tuning in if you actually took the time to read this LOL 🍓🎼🔪

#roomies #<- catch-all tag for this au :-) #3am cringe lets fucking GO #i'm not proofreading this either sorry if nothing makes sense (i'm not sorry) #this all sounds even more silly now that i have typed it all out lol #my followers are not exempt from my brainrot >:] #sticky notes

[gayfring]

Did somebody say random uncalled for NORMAL PEOPLE TOTALLY NOT CRIMINALS AU LORE?????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[Reminder that the nptnc au is just a silly and corny highschool au (kinda like how they portrayed high schools in early 2000s movies) that takes place around the 80s?? and after all the characters graduate the story just focuses on Gus and Max for now until me and my friend write more post-hs lore about the rest of the characters]

- Gus and Max met when they were in 9th grade in the school library. They were in the same class but they never talked to each other before. Gus reached out to grab the book "Gone with the Wind", and Max noticed him grab it and told him that his parents donated the book to the library. Gus just stood there with an awkward smile as Max talked and talked about his parents and their boring books. They were close friends until around 11th/12th grade, when they found out they actually were in love. Gus was the typical quiet, nerdy kid who loved studying and Max was a rather popular, athletic kid who used to play football (soccer, not American football) a lot of the time.

- Obviously Lalo is gonna be a school bully. But he's the type of bully that always hits close to home with his insults. Unlike Tuco, he doesn't use physical violence as often, and when he does, it's mostly shoving pathetic kids like Gus into the lockers. Sometimes he takes tests for Tuco... as Tuco. Even though they look nothing alike, and the grade isn't even any better than if Tuco were to take it himself.

- At prom, Gus and Max came with matching suits, and they tried their best to hide their relationship as always. Lalo got really drunk that night, he squeezed himself in between Gus and Max, and said "you know, despite how much I laugh at you, you guys are some really nice dudes," Gus and Max looking at him confused. Only a few years later did they actually realize how painfully bad they were at hiding their relationship from others.

- Kim and Jimmy once again fall victim to the "a woman that barks and a man who meows" dynamic. They met and fell in love after Kim finished eating in the boys' restrooms and Jimmy finished crying in the girls' restrooms and they both exited at the same time, Kim with crumbs still all over her mouth, and Jimmy all swollen and red from crying. Jimmy is a pathetic little loser who cries at the girls' restrooms after making the entire class laugh at his jokes and Kim is a closed but at the same time assertive girl. One time Kim saw Jimmy wrote her name in his phone book as "The most beautiful girl in the world", alongside with her phone number. She insisted that he changes it to "The smartest girl in the world", but Jimmy managed to convince her to let him call her "The most beautiful AND smart girl in the world". Kim calls Jimmy "James McGill class" in her phone book. They usually eat lunch together in a place far away from the other kids. Jimmy always engraves "K+J" with a heart surrounding it on every surface he sees, such as trees, desks, and more.

- Max was a painfully corny guy when it comes to romance, as if he learned everything he knows about relationships from the worst romance films ever. Gus wasn't all that knowledgeable in this kind of stuff, but he wanted to adapt himself and make Max happy so he tried to be romantic/corny as well, but it turns out he's really bad at these things, and his failed attempts at acting "like Max" never failed to make Max laugh, he saw it as the purest thing ever and he hoped that Gus would never stop trying.

Should I post more should I post more I have so many of those in my vault. Sooo many. Just say if you want more I will post them ALL!!!!! I just don't wanna make it super long so I thought it would be better to post it in parts lol

#normal people totally not criminals au

[godmademewithoutarms]

what's tlc? :)

Omg my beloved friend Strawberry I am so glad u asked ☆(ゝω·)v

Read more in place because uh. I wrote a bit much an don't want to take up everyone's dash. Anyways, under the cut is my definition of what tlc is + some other tidbits.

TLC, abbreviation of 'The Lunar Chronicles', is a book series that was published from 2012 to 2015 (so like, 10 year's old) created by Marissa Meyer, one of my favorite authors. She just happens to be the author that restarted my love of reading.

The wikipedia definition of tlc (because I am lazy and have no idea how to properly summarize the novels without infodumping and spoiling it all) says 'Set in a futuristic world inhabited by various species and creatures, tensions are rising between Earth and its former colony Luna, while both attempt to manage an ongoing pandemic.'

The four books names correlate with the names of 4 of the main characters (Cinder, Scarlet, Cress, and Winter, in chronological order). There are also two extra books (Fairest book 3.5, and Stars Above book 5) but that's besides the pointm Cinder is our main main character, and each book mostly focuses and properly introduces us to the girl on the title while still managing to keep with with our other characters.

It has a loveable cast, space, war, politics (I mean I guess??), romance, friendship, no love triangles, royalty, etc etc. However the title of science fiction and the science of the book (aka how living on Luna and all of that works) has been questioned by my slightly upset former science teacher who is in my book group. Because I convinced the teacher running the group to let the group read tlc, which I was joking about because she hated tlc but that's a story for a different ask lmao.

Anyways personally, my favorite characters just so happen to be Jacin and Winter, which is funny because 13-14 yr old me hated Jacin during my first read. I don't even remember why, however Winter has always been my favorite (again, a story for different ask) (I could just rant and rant about what I love about these books).

I mentioned that Craig and Tweek kinda remind me of them, but they have some similarities that just clicked in my little au conjuring brain. Tweek reminds me of Winter in the way of how they're both kinda weird, Tweek is more erratic and panicky whereas Winter is more floaty and whimsical. However some of the things Winter says does remind me of things Tweek would say, maybe this one is just me though.

As for Craig, he gives me Jacin vibes. They both got that stoic, asshole-ish who's only softer around their lover vibe. That's mainly why I made the post.

That being said that was just a silly thought I had, idk if it'd turn into an actual au that'd be wild and tedious lmao. It's a nice thought tho. Anyways if u like multiple part romance filled fantasy books based off fairytales (with a bit not properly thought out science fiction according to my science teacher) than I suggest reading it. I should mention that tlc was the first thing MM every published (to my knowledge).

If u would like to read one of her books bc her writing is blatantly clear in all of her books (/posi) but tlc seems too much to tackle, she has two standalones, a trilogy, a duology, and one of those books w/ multiple authors. I do believe one standalone is getting another book but idk if it's a second part or just in the same universe.

#i wrote more than I had planned to...whoops #zero answers #zero's favorites <3

[tsui-no-sora]

Awwww yes! I was waiting on your take in my little Au (so I don't confuse with the real lore) I am feeling so validated rn, you being the main lorehead and yes, you deserve that tittle.

I am a sucker for angst to be honest and a sucker for comfort to, there's gotta be a balance so yes, K!Quackity will get all the angs and dsmp!Quackity will get more of the hurt :]

I am like, I was thinking of just k!Quackity with the dreams and then BOOM you make me remember this is a two way street and dsmp!Q is so alone.

Like yes maybe k!Quackity will be sad because of the dreams but he still has his friends to help him through it but then we have dsmp!Quackity that is alone, and he keeps having these dreams that even if they are happy they leave him with a deep ache. Cause he is alone, he isn't joking anymore, he has no one that will come if he screams their name, no one to pick him up in the brink of death. He has no one to guide him, and call him with afection. No pets with silly names secure even if they are in another person house. He has bread but it's cold not warm from another person hands that relent after a little bit of whining saying he is gonna die.

I should stOP BUT MY BRAIN ROT SO HARD, sorry drellumina beloved. This Au is eating away my mind.

-kuackity

Don't apologize! Nada! Not at all! I love getting your asks and aaaa this au is such a cool idea I love it so much.

And be ready okay because you have infected me with your brainrot just as much and now I'm gonna super rant to you about this AU

I feel so bad for c!Quackity because he's legitimately lost everybody he's loved Karl and Sapnap forgot about him Charlie died all of the Las Nevadas crews have left him behind, and it's all mostly consequences of his own actions, that's just so depressing.

He would be plagued by dreams whenever he does manage to sleep because tbh with the lifestyle c!Quackity leads you know the whole daily torturing the admin and now leaving in perpetual fear of him is probably not so good for your sleeping schedule

Of this happier place, this land with no divison, where everybody seems to get along, and where everybody seems to care so much for him to keep him protected and safe who give him shelter and food and Pets and stay for him and wait for him

In a place where nobody has left him behind when he looked way younger than he is now because actually k!Quackity's current skin is the same one c!Quackity had when he joined the DSMP

And then he wakes up from those happy dreams and the feeling of it must be so incredibly lonely

I wonder if he would start trying to sleep more and more like c!George because his dreams are the only escape he has or if he would completely start avoiding falling asleep at all because he knows the moment he wakes up he will be alone and miserable and angry and afraid again

On the other hand I can imagine k!Quackity becoming really afraid of sleeping and developing insomnia that Luzu really has to help him through and assure him that while the dreams are ugly he needs to sleep at least a little and at least k!Quackity knows that the moment he wakes up he will be comforted by his friends

k!Quackity is not alone and his everyday life is a pretty happy one and his friends probably try very hard to make sure that he doesn't suffer a lot while asleep

I also think he would become very interested in learning about c!Wilbur and c!Charlie even if he can barely remember them at all and that it would really scare him into doing his best to stick to this set of people who care for him because he has seen this version of him who is definitely him but older and sadder and lonely and angry and he really doesn't want to become like that

It makes him and more convinced that he needs to do anything he can to not get left behind that he really can't afford to be left behind here

AAAAA ESTE AU ME PONE RE TRISTE POR EL PATITO LOS SUEÑOS (NO MEXICANOS) LE VAN A DAR UN BUEN DE TRAUMAS PERO ME ENCANTA

#kuackity tag #i love your au never stop ranting to me about it #love u too #karmaland craze #being called a main lorehead #todavía me chivea not gonna lie #thank uuuu

[yeoldontknow]

the light keeper’s daughter | jhs (m)

A/N: written as fulfillment for the july house games at @bangtansorciere  ❂ To The Lighthouse      ⁂ Hosted by: Professor Bee @inkedtae through @bangtansorciere​ AU Type: Trident’s Tides (soulmates) Themes: God/Goddess (goddess reader); Secret Relationship Kinks: clit biting; pain kink; size kink; masturbation; degradation; overstimulation; dirty talk; cum play; panty sniffing

↝ Creative Content Contributor: @jamaisjoons​ for this incredible banner. its literally so stunning ;~; ↝ Pairing: Lighthouse Keeper!Hoseok x Goddess of Light!Reader (oc; female) ↝ Genre: soulmate au; secret relationship au; gods/goddess au; mentions of an arranged marriage; heavy angst; smut; romance; pining ↝ Rating: NC-17 | 18+ ↝ Summary: For years, you’ve kept your relationship with Hoseok a secret. As the daughter of the God of Light, you are destined to marry anyone who slays the beast in the Gloaming Isles in your honor. When that day finally comes, you go to Hoseok to tell him your relationship must end and you are set to be married. One last time, Hoseok reminds you no one will love you as eternally, as enduringly, as he. ↝ Warnings: explicit sex; explicit language; pregnancy; unprotected sex; creampie; masturbation; clit biting; oral sex (f receiving); pain kink; size kink; overstimulation; light degradation; a brief handjob; impreg kink; dirty talk; cum play; panty sniffing; crying; biting; marking; scratching; brief mentions of blood ↝ Word Count: 14.7K        ↝ special thank you to @softyoongiionly​ and @kithtaehyung​ for reading through this and being amazing betas! if there are any mistakes left over they are absolutely my own and the fact that 98% of this was written while sprinting owo

Looking at Hoseok, you think, is exactly like being struck by lightning. Which is to say, every time, all the time, looking at Hoseok means you feel him everywhere, all over and all at once. 

Inside the lighthouse, there is no escaping him. 

Pressing your back against the rough concrete of the small light room, you tilt your head to the side as the totality of Hoseok’s warmth, ardor, and fidelity blossoms over you. He flowers deep in the nodes of your lungs, your breath constricted as you take him in, studying the curve of his lips, the slope of his nose, the way he wears the night as though he is the stars.

In the distance, waves rush to the shore, kissing the land with the same enthusiasm you wish to be kissing him, only to pull away from land; the water shy, anxious of the earth’s response to its affections. Over and over, the sea rolls like thunder. Every now and then, the light that spins overhead refracts downward, illuminating the blood that has rushed to his cheeks. Flushed, his lips part as he processes the words you have just told him, all red and red and red with understanding.

As though he is burning, as though you are not burning for him, your hands clinging tightly to your skirts as you hold your knees against your chest. It should be utterly unfair, you think, for him to appear so beautiful, so exquisite, even as he remains painfully stricken by your words. The searing ache in your chest germinates alongside your love, mind racing with the apologies he deserves. Your bones tremble with the force of remaining still, prepared to reach out and hold his face and tell him it was a lie. You want to smile for him, want to tease him, want to say you’d been terribly silly and that such jokes are best kept for nights when the sky is not clouded, not cold, and instead warmed by your shared rapture. 

How you would like to give him all the kindest, all the softest, words in the world.

‘It can’t be true.’

He’s said this twice, the disbelief in his voice only just winning out against the grief. Hoseok repeats it again, taking a step towards you, eyes cast down to where you have slunk in shame and sadness. Hands limp at his sides, his fingers quake, torn between balling his hands into fists or running through his hair, their resting place for his worry. Deciding on neither, he simply stands tall and stoic, appearing so small in the light that cascades around the room.

You’d glow for him if you could, if you felt like you deserved to illuminate any part of him at all.

Looking away from his woefully dejected expression, you turn your attention to the small gap in the wall beside you. A window once blocked the wind - stained glass, exquisite. It shattered during a storm, on a night when he pressed himself so deep inside you traces of his essence lingered on your tongue. He was deep enough it hurt, rolling into you with enthusiastic vigor. Tonight, the breeze smells of low tide, acrid in the back of your nose and sour, just like your mood.

‘We knew this would happen,’ is your quiet reply. 

A weak and pathetic excuse, you hate the words even as you say them. Shameful, you think with a grimace, to have pretended that you could have a happy ending, that convincing your father would have been simple. The lies you told yourself and Hoseok, the platitudes that fell from your lips to comfort him, turn on your now, betrayals stacked against you that weigh heavily your judgement. You’ve been childish, so childish, to assume you could have ever been happy.

Hoseok shakes his head, refusing to accept your answer. All fury and rage, he comes to stand before you and lowers to his knees, demanding you look at him. His presence is a live wire, the heat and energy from his skin is vital, a pull against yours that makes you regard him once more, confronted by his enduring beauty. Flooding your vision, he is all you see, all you can fathom, your world beginning and ending with his pleading eyes. 

‘But it’s been years,’ he argues, the high pitched tone of his voice wavering and taught with emotion. He’s older than you, physically, but at this moment he has never been so young, so small, so gloriously human. ‘Centuries even. It’s unfair to you.’

A huff of breath rushes through your nose, your scoff ripe with bitterness. ‘Someone finally slayed the Sydral, as archaic as this ritual actually is. My father said I should have always expected it.’

‘And so now…’ Hoseok’s voice drifts, falling back onto his knees crestfallen. The corner of his lips drop into the beginnings of a deep frown, all manner and will to fight rapidly dissipating.

‘I have to marry them,’ you nod, answering his unspoken question.

For a long while, you hold his gaze, allowing yourself to get lost in the umber of his irises and missing the mirth that usually ignites their sparkle. It is just his breath that cascades over your skin, just the waves that rush beyond the light room, just the world that seems to turn onward, without you, time passing without either of you truly acknowledging it. In this silence, you see your history, your every moment spent with him: the day you met; the day he could not help himself any longer and kissed you soundly, without restraint; the first moment you told him you loved him; the first moment he said he needed you; the plastic ring he won at the pier arcade - extraordinary in all its ugliness - and the gentle, reverent, way he slid it over your finger, calling it a promise of fidelity. 

In Hoseok, you see it all. 

Similarly, he drowns in you, the pink of his cheeks deepening to rose with each passing breath. Posture falling slack, the strap of his ride suspender slips from his shoulder, the collar of his linen shirt loosening with the lack of restraint. A sliver of his collarbone becomes exposed, golden and rich, a tantalizing patch of skin you would caress and kiss if only the circumstances had been different. You wonder idly what he remembers of you, what he sees in your own dispirited expression. You wonder if he remembers the way he loved you, the way he loved you beyond your light and into your darkness. 

You wonder if he remembers the way he ate your shadows - with his whole mouth, with fervor, with pride. You wonder if he remembers the way you devoured him just the same. 

‘This is ridiculous,’ he announces, finally. Turning to look out the window, he regards the sky solemnly, the curve of his profile imposing in its majesty. Eyes narrowed, it is the harshest he has ever looked, devoid of forgiveness. ‘It’s supposed to be me.’

Swiftly, you shake your head, adamant in your disagreement. You reach for him, leaning forward to rest your hand against his chest, against his heart where it thunders in his sternum. Warmth from his skin radiates into your blood, taking root between your joints. Hoseok worms his way into pieces of your spirit long left abandoned, and you swallow thickly, wondering if such affection as this is normal, if it’s always this way.

‘I’d never have let you.’ Your dispute is biting, sharp enough Hoseok turns his eyes back to you, jaw clenched and tight with silent fury. ‘You’re human. It would have killed you. And then where would I be?’

‘You’d be sitting where I am,’ he argues, emphatic. 

Reaching for your hand where it rests, he covers it with his own, lifting it slightly to twine his fingers with yours. Unable to help himself, he inches closer, running his thumb over your knuckles and sending shivers along your nerves. Like always, his touch is a wildfire, the electric kinetic energy needed to set you aglow. Your mind swims with him the same way your body becomes whelmed by his devotion, but he does not let himself become distracted. 

‘Do you even understand?’ Voice little more than a whisper, Hoseok’s gaze is penetrating, a bite to his veneration that demands your complete attention. Tilting his head to the side, he continues. ‘You think I wouldn’t die for you?’

You squeeze his hand with tenacity, acknowledging his sentiment, but he does not see all the things you have witnessed. He does not know the true menace of the Sydral, does not know its tricks, its many heads, its speed, its cunning; Hoseok would die for you, and death would find him quickly. 

Instead, you offer him a small smile, one that is so fragile and close to breaking. Hoseok’s intensity burns within your chest, transforming his softness into the valor of a man that leaves you breathless. Salvaging your own strength, you lower your gaze to the white collar of his shirt, to the soft linen and the expanse of his throat where he swallows. This you can regard with pleasure, can regard without fearing you may shatter.

And so you smile, finding the will to fight him once more. ‘The problem,’ you begin, hoping the earnestness of your smile is enough to cool the rage that boils in his throat, ‘is that I know you would. And I would live my life alone, married to him while knowing you are gone. Would you really condemn me to such misery? My darling, I would die to keep you safe.’

This feels like anguish; this feels like dying, you think to yourself, growing ever more despondent the longer you feel Hoseok pleading with the emptiness that lurks behind your eyes. You can’t bear to face him, not when the tightness in your throat becomes a threat, tears lingering on the precipice of spilling. Every time his gaze meets yours it is brutal in its honesty, violent in the way your love and lust tumbles so completely into grief.

‘How long?’ he manages, breathing life to the very question you’d been hoping to avoid. 

Your future is still so far away, distant enough it makes this moment, and every moment to follow, heavy with the pain of imagination. Still, you’ve never been able to deny him anything. 

Once more, you turn to view the window, regarding it with a vacant expression as though you are regarding time itself. ‘You know this is the last time I can see you.’

‘I know,’ he bites out, unwilling to let you dodge the answer. ‘I mean how long until...you’re not mine anymore.’

‘That’s...not possible,’ you offer gently, casting him a solemn, detached grin. ‘I am always going to be yours. Even when I’m in his bed, even when I’m thousands of miles away, even in death, I am yours.’

Hoseok pulls you against him, compelling your complete attention. Eyes wide, you study his face - the resolution of his passion fierce enough to be an earthquake against your sternum, a collision of meeting worlds. His arm winds itself around your waist while he still clutches your hand, the strength of his grip stinging against your knuckles. You tremble against his powerful frame, inhaling the deep scent of cedar and ambergris that always clings to him, the salt of the ocean that lingers on his skin, the dust that has saturated his shirt from the lighthouse, and you; your vanilla and lemon, the brightness of your own natural scent that emanates from your light and always seems to find him, not unlike rays of the sun. 

Your mouth waters at this closeness, his own eyes darkened to a rich black as he studies you seriously. You’ve wounded him - worse, you’ve denied him - and he presses the tips of his fingers into the soft muscles of your back, ensuring you cannot leave him. Not until he is ready to let you go.  

‘You know what I mean,’ he breathes, words lowered to a hiss. If he were a vengeful sort of man, he would be full of venom. Instead, there is only remorse in his insistence.

Closing your eyes, you sigh. ‘Months, most likely. Tomorrow the rituals begin - the seven days feast, the Fate Tying, the Blood Gathering.’ 

When you look at him again, your lower lip begins to quake. Saying the words makes it all feel immediate, tangible, as though your father stands in the dark corners of the light room casting his judgements. You almost feel him there, his presence always so sinister for a man blessed to command the light; he resides in the silent places, giving birth to shadows, prepared to pull you from bliss at a moment's notice. 

‘All this pomp and circumstance from eras bygone,’ you continue, grounding yourself in the firmness of Hoseok’s arms and chest. The bones of his knees press into your thighs; your hand caught between your twin heartbeats; you immerse yourself in the pain of this connection and remind yourself it hurts because he was always meant to be yours. ‘It’s been centuries since a goddess has been married off, and yet somehow I’m the first for such a sentence. The wedding won’t be for at least five months.’

‘Then we have time.’ Hope saturates his words, his hold on you growing ever more unyielding. ‘You can still come to me, we can still see each other,’ he explains quickly, speaking in a rush. ‘No one will have to know.’

Biting your lips, you raise your hand to the soft strands of his hair, carding your fingers through it. All silk and satin, you relish the texture as his desperation soaks into your pores. 

‘I wish that could be true.’ Even as you speak, you focus on his hair, committing these small details to memory. The curve of his bang in the center of his forehead, the deep amber and dark sienna and all the golden highlights that come to life in the daylight, the way all of him, every piece, is soft enough to break you. Yes, you focus on it all. ‘All the Old Gods will be gathering in Teylim. There will be more eyes on me than ever before. Ladies coming to fuss over my hair, my clothes, the oils I wear; men worshiping Daeus like he’s some kind of king when, really, he’s just lucky enough to be half of a god. I won’t be able to get away.’

Hoseok’s eyes roam your face, wild and storming, waiting for you to amend your answer. When you do not speak, his brow furrows and he exhales, a small whimper released from the center of his breaking heart. ‘So this is it, then? This is really it?’

‘I’m so sorry,’ you whisper, moving your hand from his hair to cup his cheek. 

He presses himself into your touch, turning just slightly to kiss delicately at your palm. The sweetness of his tenderness splinters the last of your courage, the tears you’ve so valiantly held back starting to burn as they spill over to your cheeks. 

‘I wish it could be different,’ you plead - with everyone and no one at all. ‘I wish for it everyday. Hoseok, I can’t -’ Distraught, you choke on your own words, and Hoseok pulls you firmly against him, resting your head against his shoulder. ‘I can’t breathe without you. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this.’

Hoseok says nothing at all as you dampen his shirt, tears spilling into the linen as you struggle not to collapse against him completely. When you are finally alone, you will succumb to the sorrow that has learned to occupy every chamber of your heart. When you are finally alone, you will eat the spirit of rage with teeth and fangs, and you will let the darkness have you, refusing to let the light erupt from your skin. But for now, you let the tears arrive of their own accord, aware that you are suddenly too sad to even weep, tears dripping into his shirt as means to remain a part of him.

Against you, Hoseok’s breath becomes uneven, his own shoulders shuddering as he minds his own heroism, fighting back his own tears. He quivers against you, his stuttering breath exhaled through his nose as he maintains his composure. The light room becomes almost too quiet, the blood rushing your ears drowning out the sound of the sea, narrowing your focus to just the shared heat between your bodies. You inch closer, removing any space that could exist between you, extinguishing any oxygen that would dare to separate you from him. What you would give for a thunderstorm, any sound at all to give life to the end of love, to the start of the war of loving. 

Unable to stomach the quiet any longer, your mind seems to become unhinged. All the tiny, miserable little thoughts Hoseok’s love kept locked away worm their way past your lips, erupting to life as though your heartbreak has given them permission to persecute you. 

‘I wish you never found me,’ you mumble, almost incoherent. Your tongue fumbles with the words, caught between weeping and speaking, making a mess of so much more than just his shirt. ‘I wish you never saw me. I could love you like that, on my own, from a distance. I could be strong enough to move through life not knowing you, loving only the idea of you. You’re so much more than anything my mind could have fabricated out of childish desire. The reality of you is heaven. And now, I’m hurting you. I should die for such a transgression.’

‘Don’t say that.’ Hoseok pulls, easing you back and lifting both his hands to cup your face. Briefly you mourn the loss of his fingers and knuckles so rough against yours, but cradled between his palms, your skin tingles, making a festival out of this contact and celebrating the nuance of his fingerprints. He looks down into you, deep enough you feel him taking root in the center of your belly. You love him most when he looks like this - fierce and unforgiving - and you cannot help the way your body responds, aroused simply by the passion of him. ‘Don’t you dare wish that,’ he commands, voice thick. ‘The day we met was the day my life started.’

‘But...’ you struggle to find the words, drifting off with the implication that, now, his life is surely ending.

‘I don’t want to know who I would be without you.’ Hoseok takes his time as he speaks, an art you cannot comprehend. 

Behind his eyes, his mind races, words living and dying before they can reach his tongue. He has so much to say, so many more promises to make, so many more words of affirmation he’d like to give you. You see them all, recognize them all - for they mirror yours, are born from your own likeness; you know them all so well, you feel as though you could reach out and touch them. 

‘I can’t fathom it, I won’t even consider it.’ Shaking his head, he denies this completely, holding onto your stare with a fixation that borders on zealous. ‘You came to me, and it felt like I could breathe. You came to me, and I felt like myself. Loving you makes me better, loving you is partly why I am alive.’

It’s difficult to swallow around the lump in your throat, its size and prowess growing ever larger in the wake of his words. In the oncoming quiet, you wish he hadn’t said it, wish he hadn’t reminded you of the way you the oncoming storm of his presence before you met him. One look at him and you had seen it all, a life designed by the Fates - marriage, children, hope, happiness. In death he’d have joined you in Teylim, youthful, young, yours. With eternity before you, you’d bask in the rapture and the joyful silliness that comes with forever. 

He felt it, too, saw it in your eyes. On your fourth meeting, he held you against him and promised you his life.

‘I will put my child in your belly,’ he announced, deliberate in the way he enunciated his words. You waited for the shock of such an exclamation to overtake you, but it never came. ‘I can’t explain it,’ he chuckled, amused by his own enthusiasm, ‘but I’m certain of it. I see my unborn children in your eyes. I think this is what the elders mean when they say there is always a plan, and you will always know it the moment you find it. I’m so certain my whole life is tied to yours.’

The memory burns within your mind, a scorch of greed mixing immediately with longing. You wish the fire of it would incinerate it to ash, that it would vanish altogether before the Fate Tying. You can handle all of these frivolous little rituals, sure of yourself and your own strength, but the Fate Tying means to unmake you. At just the thought, your stomach begins to sink. 

You will sit, hands clasped on your amber throne with the sunlight seeking your hair, your cheeks, your lips; Daeus will smile, wrapped in oak and evergreen, in the earth that flourishes beneath your light; and you will weep, watching as the Moirai unstitch your soul from Hoseok’s, peeling it apart inch by horrible inch, to thread it with the ugliness of Daeus’ strands. You will wonder, mouth dry and eyes wet, why the Moirai would bother making a man for you, would bother weaving your spirits together, only to unravel the work they had done, the love you had found. 

The movement of Hoseok’s gentle caress, pads of his thumbs running across the bones of your cheeks, returns you to the present moment. Once more he whimpers, doing his best to keep you grounded with him, unwilling to lose you before he absolutely must. Digging your nails into his shoulder as you grab fistfuls of his shirt, you wallow with him, knowing that, just like him, you don’t know who you would have become without him.

‘What do we do?’ you manage, reduced to a more pathetic version of yourself as you plead with him. Anyone else, and you’d be ashamed to appear so weak. ‘How do I do this?’

‘I don’t know,’ is all he can provide. ‘I don’t know.’

‘Promise me -’ You cut yourself off, not entirely certain where the idea comes from, what part of you would willingly propose such a request, the meaning of what you had intended to say catching up to your mind the moment you heard your own voice. Hoseok waits patiently, and you lower your gaze to the curvature of his lips, wanting to kiss and kiss and kiss him, knowing your next words will scar you both. ‘Promise me you’ll find someone else. Promise me you’ll be happy.’

Without any hesitation, he scoffs, dismissing the idea altogether. ‘Don’t ask me to tell a lie.’ 

‘I can’t, Hoseok.’ Now, it is your turn to hold his face, cupping his cheeks with veneration. Mind reeling, you envision it, certain you could take it. You are certain you would die for less. ‘I can’t do this if I spend my life knowing you’ll be unhappy. I can’t do this knowing you’re alone.’

Slowly, gently, Hoseok lets the tip of his nose press against yours, rubbing it back and forth, back and forth. Breath  a deluge down and over your lips and skin, he somehow finds it within himself to smile, empty of all amusement. 

‘It’s so unfair of you to expect that I could be happy with anyone but you,’ he chastises. ‘I’d rather be alone, utterly and completely, than to be lonely with someone. They deserve better than someone who is with them out of loyalty to another person - a promise kept to the person they truly love.’

His rejection and refusal of your plea inspires a thrill in the pit of your stomach, all manner of possessive pleasure coursing through your veins. How easily he turns you into a selfish woman, how quickly his promises of fidelity make you lose all sight of strength and future vision. What sort of man is Hoseok that he should have such dominion over you, you think to yourself. But then, you know. You know as you have always known: Hoseok is your man, your lover, your soul.

Stroking his cheeks with your thumbs, just as he had done, reverently, adoringly, you bite your lip and feel your exhale shake. ‘So what will you do?’

‘I’ll do as I’ve always done,’ he shrugs, as though the very thought is not a bruise within his ribs. ‘I’ll keep the lighthouse. Every night, I’ll let the beacon burn, and keep the light on. Even on clear days, I will let the light shine.’ Hoseok smiles as he says this, the first real smile he has managed since he saw you on the shore this evening, waiting, just like always. ‘When you’re up there, perhaps you will see the light.’ 

He shifts his gaze to the roof of the light house, looking up and beyond, past the clouds, up to the seat of the gods. Furrowing his brow, he hardens his jaw just slightly, eyes turning dark as he demands your father witness him. 

When he looks at you again, he is a changed man - a boy trapped in the throes of love, and a man on the verge of letting himself perish.

‘Maybe up there,’ he murmurs, ‘you will see my light and know that I’m burning for you, just as I’ve always been. I’ll continue to love you. I’ll be good, I’ll be pious, and maybe when I die we will meet in Teylim and even in death I’ll watch you, staying close to your light like a bird in flight.’

‘Hoseok.’ The quiver of your bottom lip disrupts the cadence of his name, besmirching it to little more than a sob.

Sucking air through his teeth, Hoseok leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours as his eyes fall shut. At such close proximity, you study the almost feminine length of his eyelashes, the pores of his skin, and wonder who or what god or demon you could barter with to stay inside him forever.

‘You’re supposed to be mine,’ he whimpers, the sadness welling up in him like a mountain. ‘You are mine, but…I will always be yours. Even when they untie us, I’ll be yours. They can’t thread me with anyone else. I don’t think my soul will allow it.’ 

Unable to sustain it any longer, your desire for him rises to a swell, erupting beside your sorrow - just as fervent, and even more unyielding. His words are a comfort, an echo you will revisit over and over when you have long departed, but your skin has learned how to ache for his touch, learned how to anticipate the way he moves over you like water, and you need it. You need him. 

The rest of your pitiful existence looms out before you, days and months and centuries passing without Hoseok to hold you and keep you, and you despise the very notion of it. You rebuke it, refusing to let yourself continue on without knowing how it feels to have him. Tonight, you do not want him as your lover.

Tonight, you want him as your husband.

‘Kiss me,’ you announce, guiding his forehead away from yours, skin prickling with the lack of his warmth. ‘Kiss me like it’s our wedding. I -’ The tightness of your voice steals your breath, words hot and heavy in your mouth as you say them. ‘I want to know what a marriage bed truly feels like. I want to know what our marriage bed would be like.’

Mad with an unbearable passion, no longer contained, Hoseok heeds your words and lets his tongue wander over the seam of your lips. You cling to him, clutching what you can of his shape, his body, and you sigh in woeful euphoria, granting him unspoken entry to the recesses of your mouth - but he does not enter. Your lover has always been disobedient, reckless in the evening when your skin and your lips and your heart are presented to him, and tonight he is no different. Tonight, he scorns the hour, taking his time as he traces over your cupid’s bow with his tongue, rendering the turn of the earth meaningless. The heat of his breath tickles your skin, a cascade in which you luxuriate, and your eyes, blurred by the urgency of your desire, lose all sense of your surroundings until there is only Hoseok. 

Hoseok - on you, around you, all over you, the rain and the wind all at once.

Only when he has had his fill of your lips does he press the whole of his mouth against yours, sucking languidly at your bottom lip. Skin growing tight, you keen into his kiss, consumed by greed. Slowly, he moves his hands down and down, letting his fingers trace indeterminate lines over your cheeks, your jaw, your bones until they rest at your neck. With his palm over your pulse, he holds you still, his touch a fever, his touch the sun, radiating deep into the caverns of your heart. 

Filled with him, you think. Absolutely alive with him, Hoseok lets his palm cradle the tether of your life until you are certain he is the oxygen made to sustain your mortal form. You, living and breathing, are little more than remnants of departed touches, composed entirely of his affections, his affirmations, his adoration.

So, too, do you kiss at him, battling against him for any semblance of permanence, demanding that you be remembered. Feeling you writhe against him, insistent in your need for closeness, he hums in pleasure, a musical sound that traverses your synapsis with unhurried ease. Gooseflesh raises on your arms, either by a passing breeze or the way Hoseok leans in, harder, rougher, all manner of dominance in the way he so desperately seeks to have you, and you shiver, delighted by the peak in your senses; delighted, fundamentally, that you will commit every moment of this last evening to bodily memory.

Willing to be devoured, you surrender to him, feeling arousal leak from between your folds as though his savagery has given it permission to spill over. It soaks into your underwear where you briefly mourn the fact that it will not coat your thighs, not yet, and that Hoseok must wait to see how easily you could paint yourself in your wanting. Like always, he anticipates you and ardent your longing; perceptive and always acutely aware of the way you have grown wanton. depraved by the strength of his kisses alone. 

Hoseok eases his hand to the back of your neck, determination apparent in his grip, and guides you forward to rest in his lap. Letting your legs settle on either side of his thighs, you straddle him, unwilling to break any contact he has with you, your skin, you, your hands on him. You come together like a cataclysm, the burgeoning tip of his erection firm and stubborn where it presses against your core, assertive and tantalizing even beneath the fabric of his trousers. 

It’s lewd the way you crave him deep inside you, jaw dropping as your mouth opens wide to gasp in delight. Hoseok wastes no time in letting his tongue glide against yours, explorative and eager, utterly deliberate in his stroking. Slowly, the tips of his fingers move from your neck to your hairline, ever deeper and ever more intrusive. A low chuckle rumbles in his throat as he runs his tongue over yours, grazing the roof of your mouth before he forms a fist in your hair and tilts your head back, swift and aggressive. 

All at once he pulls away, face hovering just centimeters above yours and gaze hooded as he explores your lustful expression. A flush creeps into your cheeks, the control he has over the flow of your blood is always surprising even if it is to be expected. Hoseok seems pleased, evident in the familiar way his eyes have become blackened by the force of his yearning and the smile that has worked its way into the corner of his lips, a secret for only you to discover. He takes a pause, disregarding his haste, to regard you: your parted lips, your heated cheeks - a fire that has spread itself over your chests and breasts.

‘You are a vision of sin,’ he murmurs, cocking his head to the side and tightening his grip in your hair. ‘What would all the gods say?’

Your own nails scratch tenderly into his scalp, gripping his hair to mirror his hold on you. Futile, you know. The strength in Hoseok is silent, a gift that makes him appear merely pretty until the seat of his power is fully revealed, a fortitude you could never mimic.

You swallow, preparing to speak, and watch the way Hoseok studies the movement of your throat. ‘They would call me a harlot.’ 

His gaze returns to yours, an otherwise thoughtful look turned menacing by the terror of his passion. ‘And are you?’

Tongue heavy in your mouth, you struggle with the few words you can manage. ‘They will make me out to be,’ you begin slowly, poignantly, ‘and it will be your fault. You’ve made me a slut.’

You hold onto the word - draping yourself over the “s”, tapping your tongue against the “t” - ensuring it lingers in your mouth long enough for him to taste it. It’s his fault, really, that you will be judged and scorned and shamed for coming to your new husband wholly impure, the construct of your virginity eradicated by Hoseok’s insatiable appetite. It’s his fault, you think, that you want him this much. That you love him this much. Your tongue caresses the word slut like it's your dearest companion, familiar with its shape and texture, and you lean upward, hoping to put it in his mouth. 

If he is half of your soul, then he should learn how it tastes to be utterly reprehensible. 

But he dodges the trajectory of your desires, moves away from your lips and your face entirely, diving down to your chest where he lets his teeth traverse the expanse of your sternum. Lifting his hand from your pulse, he trades one beat of your blood for another, fisting his hand in the collar of your dress to pull it down and expose the thin bit of flesh covering your heart. It thunders in your ears, your body a storm of his making, and you tremble as he positions himself to ravage your very spirit.

His teeth leave scars upon your nerves, eternal echoes within your pores that have you rolling your hips downward in encouragement. Again, you feel him, his cock against your core, enough to have you whimpering as though you are small and fragile, not the maker of your undoing. As punishment for your impertinence, Hoseok takes aim and bites down harshly at the slender bone of your clavicle. 

‘Hoseok!’ 

‘I know you, Sparrow.’ The husk of his breath is an avalanche into the marrow of your bones, the memory of his teeth still reverberating into your lungs. ‘You always like it when it hurts.’

Your skin still stings, yet he is relentless. You quake in his hold as he bites at the bone once again, teeth inlaid perfectly where they had been before. Your skin bends beneath the force, ecstatic hiss descending into a low moan, giving away the truth of how well he truly knows you. The pain grounds you in the moment, allows you, too, to ignore the passage of time, the ebb and flow of the waves as though the tides have halted altogether. You are prettiest when you are red and purple, black and blue by the marks he leaves in his wake, and not once, not even when he breaks your skin to bleeding does he tarnish your light.

In his arms, you are illuminated, glowing with the same intensity as the lighthouse beacon. He’s called you the heavenly sky for the way you glow under his affections, your inability to control your power when he makes you feel so impossibly good turning you into an evening star. You often forget you are blessed with a holy gift, the goddess of light as though your title has any meaning beyond providing you a seat at the table in Teylim. You often forget this is who you really are, someone happy, someone made of magic - a light kindled only under joy.

‘I will make you ache for me,’ he breathes, pushing the collar of your dress lower and lower, threatening to expose your nipple. ‘I want you alight, burning for me. Only me.’

Hoseok kisses deftly at the supple softness of your breast, diligent and greedy. His breath comes ragged, thick in the center of his lungs where he struggles around the insurmountable longing that puts force in his handling of your body. Working his tongue over the skin, he licks the stars out of the constellations of your pores, tasting the dust, the salt, the sea. Your hands run through his hair, messing the thick strands to a state of perilous disorder in your eagerness to move downward to the comforting solidarity of his shoulders.

Grinding your hips into his lap, the tip of his clothed erection slides along your slit, and you release a whimpered exclamation as the cloth of your underwear slips between your folds. Biting your lip, you breathe deep, Hoseok’s own groan of dissatisfaction vibrates into your chest. You feel him deep in your throat, his voice alongside yours, his desire matching yours in intensity. 

Hand leaving your neck in favor of your waist, his grip tightens, fingertips pressing deep circles into the muscles of your back. Thrusting upward, he teases you, laughing darkly to himself with a rough nip to your breast. The motion sends your underwear deeper into your cunt, a pressure to your clit as erotic as it is cruel. It sends a shiver down your spine, inspiring tremors in your nerves that have you clenching your walls around nothing at all, seeking the bulbous head of his cock in need. 

Pleased with himself, he raises himself from your chest to work at the buttons of your dress. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your own rolling back to present you breasts to him like a preening cat. Hungry, he takes the bait, slipping a palm under your dress to cup your breast. He presses against your nipple, a small wine tumbling from your throat to mingle with his whispered expletive. Rolling your nipple between his knuckle, he regards you momentarily, studying your dazed expression. Against him, you are an earthquake unto yourself, a cosmic shift of longing ravaging your blood, and you are pleased by it, offering him a smile of gluttony. 

Abruptly, he releases your breast, hands falling to your hips as he raises to his knees, keeping you against him. Hoseok pushes your hips roughly against his, cock a threatening force against your core as he guides your bodies down to the floor, careful to keep the shift in position painless. Once more, he thrusts at you, and you feel yourself becoming soaked, juices no longer dripping into your underwear but instead crawling slowly down to your ass. The concrete of the floor is chilled, cold enough your back and hips arch indelicately in retreat, causing you to carelessly meet his thrust. 

‘Fuck,’ he mutters, returning his hands to your front as he sits back on his knees. 

Hoseok avoids the buttons over your breasts, choosing instead to undo the buttons just beneath. Continuing onward, he takes his time unwrapping you, hungry for the pieces of your body he will mark as his. The heart of his lips parts on a silent exclamation, mouth falling open as he unveils more of your ample flesh. The light from your skin mixes with the lighthouse beacon, casting shadows of desire in his eyes, rendering him beastly. With his eyes only, he devours you; your body, the fruit of his immense craving. 

Leaving your breasts covered, Hoseok exposes your hips, your stomach, your thighs. Your hardened nipples strain against the fabric, begging for release the same way your core clenches once again around nothing at all, swallowing more of your underwear in an effort to lure him deep inside you. He meant it this way, all too aware your sensitive nipples will tease you to a point of aching the longer they rub against your dress.

The sea breeze cools your skin, so much of you exposed you feel as though you have been submerged in wind and sky. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you mourn momentarily that it is not Hoseok that covers you, not yet. Still, you enjoy being naked for him like this - naked, vulnerable, safe, and his. You open your legs further, letting the wind kiss at the wetness of your cunt, your answering grin borderline salacious. How glorious to give everything and hide nothing from him. How glorious to let yourself be worshipped, his eyes starved for the pleasure of your sex. All this joy, and yet your frustration runs over, an overflow occurring with little thought. 

‘It’s not fair,’ you whine, raising your arms to reach for him. ‘Let me undress you.’

Sitting up, you press your hands flat against his chest, becoming attuned with the ample hills and valleys of his muscles. Hoseok sits still and proud, lips reddened and wet from kissing you. Your light ignites the flush that dapples the tips of his ears, skin flushed by lust and longing. Throat running dry, you swallow thickly, committing his unrivaled beauty to memory. You refuse to forget a single moment of this, unwilling to relinquish a single detail of him. 

Slowly, you ease the suspenders from his shoulders, humming in approval at the way the loose linen of his shirt relaxes in its newfound freedom, offering you more of his neck and collarbones. As your fingers work earnestly at his buttons, Hoseok takes his time admiring you, a piercing look both penetrative and heartsick. His hand comes to cover yours, unable to help himself, and he holds it tightly, raising it to his lips. His eyes remain locked on yours as he kisses the pads of your fingers, one by one, before slipping your index and middle finger into his mouth. Your lips part on a sigh that fades just as quickly as it came, feeling his tongue swirl over the digits with purpose. 

And much the same way you did not expect his touch, so too are you caught off guard when he moves your fingers from his mouth and guides it down your stomach. Lower and lower, he guides your hand between your bodies where he slips it beneath your underwear. Your breath hitches, skin wet from his saliva and clit throbbing at the prospect of tangible contact, your own hand an ominous presence resting upon your mound.

‘Touch yourself,’ he commands.

Hoseok is so often the picture of tenderness in the way he makes love to you, always gentle and always mired in the totality of his affections. Occasionally, he is sharp and, occasionally, he is in control - only on days when he is starved, only on days when he is completely ravenous. Tonight, there is no room for argument. Tonight, he makes himself an unrelenting devil, unafraid to exert dominance.

‘Eventually we will remember little of how we undress,’ he explains, pressing your fingers over your mound, dangerously close to your clit. ‘Right now, I need to see the way you will touch yourself for me when I’m no longer around. I want to see it. I want to memorize it. Touch yourself for me.’

Removing his hand from yours, he nudges softly at your shoulder, and you obey immediately. Leaning back on your right elbow, you keep your hand in place as he grabs the band of your underwear and pulls it down. Lifting your hips, your tongue licks at your bottom lip where the skin has become dry and chapped, struggling to catch your breath as your desire becomes oppressive. Falling back on your tailbone, you spread your legs wider still, proud and impish as you slide your fingers down your slip, separating your folds to display your core. 

But he sees nothing as he lifts your underwear to his nose, fisting his hands in the fabric and pressing it against his face. Hoseok breathes in deep,eyes rolling back slightly in the effort of keeping his eyes open, a growl rumbling in his chest like a warning. Exhaling into the cloth, he laughs to himself, a high pitched, small sound of amused embarrassment before he falls completely silent once more. And then, he breathes in again, just as deep, just as fervent, lips kissing at the wet patch you have created.

‘I’m keeping these.’ Easing your underwear away from his nose, he crumples the garment and buries it in the pocket of his trousers. Cocking an eyebrow in pleasure, he takes in your exposed cunt, licking his lips. ‘I’ll fuck myself with them, imagining it’s you and your wet pussy.’

‘Pervert,’ you tease, jutting your chin forward in mock derision.

‘Whore.’ Inspired by your nakedness, he begins to undress, gaze heated and focused on your wet cunt. ‘I told you to touch yourself.’

Your fingers easily breach the barrier of your folds upon their release, wet with Hoseok’s spit and your walls slick and dripping with your juices. Years ago, you would have been ashamed of being so soaked, a damp patch expanding in the concrete beneath you in visible proof. But you no longer care, not when Hoseok’s expression of thirst is so incorrigible. 

You fuck yourself with your hand, fighting the urge to tilt your head back in relief - small as it is. In the heat of your lonely nights, you find it tragic your fingers never reach as deep as Hoseok’s slender digits; yours are too slim, knuckles not nearly as rough or pronounced. And when your mind drifts dangerously to thoughts of girth, your eyes drop swiftly to the pronounced shape of Hoseok’s straining cock. Swallowing the weep of appreciation that builds in your chest, your teeth chew at your bottom lip, clinging in anticipation.

Pressing the base of your palm against the hood of your clit, you whimper. Mild and meek as it is, your fingers bring a temporary relief, this satisfaction fleeting, and it will not be long before you are begging him to fill you. 

‘You’re dripping,’ he comments, interrupting your thoughts and removing his shirt in one swift motion. ‘Are you sure you’re not the princess of water? If I kiss your cunt I might drown.’

‘I’m in love with you.’ 

While not truly a detailed explanation, the words carry the weight of your whole chest, erupting with little thought. Your mind offers the only logical explanation for your wetness it can manage while your body grapples with the implication of Hoseok’s mouth upon your core. 

‘Say it again,’ he orders, hands tugging harshly at the zip of his trousers.

A slow smile spreads over your lips, head cocking to the side as you admire his eager expression. ‘I’m in love with you.’

‘Again.’

‘I’m in love with you.’ 

This time, you say it with venom, as though you want it to hurt and hope that it will leave scars in its wake. Hoseok tugs his trousers down his thighs, rising to his knees, appearing regal and godly. Freed from its cloth restraints, his cock springs upward to rest against his stomach, and he smirks, chest and neck flushed as your focus shifts immediately to the purpled bulbous head. 

Without hesitation, you remove yourself from your folds, the ache at your core only minutely grieving the loss of your small hand. Instead, you reach for him, fingers slick with your juices as you grasp the base of his cock with a gentle squeeze. He’s heavy in your hand, rigid in the solid way that makes your walls clench and drip once more, mirroring the way your mouth waters. Slowly, you move your hand up and down the shaft, letting your thumb rub over the leaking tip with care. 

Hoseok’s breath hitches, his hips thrusting slightly into your hand as you pleasure him. His own hands clutch at his discarded clothes, doing his best to exercise his dwindling patience, and you repeat motion, admiring the smoothness of the skin in contrast to the veins of his shaft.

‘I always wonder how you will fit inside me,’ you comment, moving your hand back down and studying the way your fingers do not meet your thumb. ‘You’re so thick.’

He rolls his shoulders back in the aftermath of your praise, inhaling sharply through his teeth. Hoseok is always free with his praises, showering you in worship and stating it is his duty to devote himself to the goddess in his favor. Always, he does this, and always he seeks nothing in return. But you have always sensed, as attuned to him as you are, that praise from you sets his soul afire. One word of praise from you and you are certain he could eat the god of Daeus entirely, rendering him completely human.

‘You were made for me,’ he explains, voice taught and words strained. Unable to hold back, he fucks your fist, seeking relief. ‘You will always stretch to accommodate me, just like your life was meant to. Just like your belly was meant to, stretching with my children.’ His gaze is penetrative, deeply serious for such an obscene state of being. ‘You were meant to take all of me. My true home is inside you.’

Your grip loosens slightly at his admission, lips curling into a small pout. ‘I so desperately wanted to give you a child.’

A choked sound rumbles through his chest, and his hand reaches yours, pulling it from his cock to wind your fingers together. With his free hand, he nudges at your shoulder, easing you back to the ground with a darkness in his eyes that has your throat running dry. Automatically, your legs spread wide, offering him space to settle between them. The tip of his cock rubs carelessly against your slit, and your focus fades, mind emptying with the single desire to have him inside you taking root. 

‘Promise me you won’t give him children,’ he commands, words thick with purpose.

He walks his hand languidly down  your body, grazing over your chest, your covered breasts, to the flat of your stomach. Beneath him, you tremble, the tectonic plates of your spine shifting beneath his touch. Splaying his hand over your stomach, he eyes your skin with parted lips and a furrowed brow. Hoseok wars with himself, his thoughts tangible behind the darkness of his irises, expression swimming with strife.

‘Promise me,’ he repeats. ‘I don’t think I could survive the thought of someone else's baby growing inside you.’ 

Raising your hand from the floor, you card your fingers through his hair while you squeeze your joined hands, determined to win his attention. 

‘I promise,’ is your soft whisper. ‘I shall bear no other child than yours.’ 

Invigorated by your promise, he returns his gaze to yours and maintains it as he works his way down your body with his tongue, kissing everywhere his hands have been. Without warning, he buries his face between your legs to bite gently at your clit, this contact a thunderclap in your spirit. Back arching off the floor, your voice shatters around his name, teeth chewing over the syllables as tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Your bones hum with the stimulation, very existence stinging and resonating, while he sucks your clit into his mouth, soothing the pain into a deep, soul burning pleasure. He swirls his tongue around it, mouth greedy and impatient, the fullness of his lips a heaven unrivaled by Teylim, and your hand tightened in his hair, body writhing in passion. 

Hoseok releases your clit with a wet pop before he kisses his way down to your folds, thrusting the flat of his tongue between them, impatient and hungry. Mindlessly, your legs spread wider, small gasps escaping from your chest as your lungs take in the scent of your sex and your hips roll upward, feeling your juices mix ceremoniously with his saliva. Consumed by the sheer power of your need, you feel yourself howl like a moonless wolf, rolling your hips against Hoseok’s face in erratic motions, inspired by the promise of your orgasm.

But Hoseok releases your joined hands, moving it quickly to your hips where he holds you still, growling against your cunt.

‘You shall not wander from me,’ he says, moving his lips against your slit as he presses you into the ground. ‘Keep still and let me feast on you.’

Once more, he thrusts the full length of his tongue between your walls, sucking eagerly at the juices spilling into his open mouth. He’s velvet and silk against your core, sturdy and solid while still gliding against all the places you have needed him most, and your voice careens off the ceiling, loud enough to drown out the ocean waves. Scratching your nails down the soft skin of your thighs, you fight back the desire to thrust against his face, wishing you could fuck his mouth and press yourself against the tip of his nose. All of it, every thrust of his tongue and every roll of your hips you suppress has you moaning, voice high pitched and growing erratic.

The feel of his tongue inside you inspires the deep desire for something larger, something thicker. Your orgasm is a threat in the center of your belly, spine tingling and tightening as each press of his tongue against your walls tames the beast of your racing heart. Hoseok buries himself between your legs with a diligence that borders on hysteria, holding you down and indulging in your

Still, his tongue only just hits the place inside your core that needs him most. You want him hard against your cervix. You want him deep enough to leave bruises on your softest pieces.

Tonight, you want the thick girth of his cock to splinter your bones. Tonight, you want his cock pressed against your cervix, a bruise you will carry for the rest of your life. Tonight, you want his cum so deep inside you it burns.

Tonight, you want him to love you and you want it to hurt. 

‘Hoseok,’ you whimper. ‘Please, I -’

Hoseok thrusts two fingers into your cunt beside his tongue, silencing you with the rough skin of his knuckles spreading your walls even wider. The contrast between his fingers and tongue elevates your hips from the floor with force, disregarding the strength of his hand. You are beastly beneath his ministrations, finding yourself caught in a wild hour and feeling as though you have abstained from him too long. He forces your hips back down with the palm of his hand, groaning against you loudly enough you feel his voice reverberate up to your tongue, and you cry out, distraught. 

Having left the top of your dress buttoned, your nipples strain against the cloth, sensitive and sending electric ripples down your arms, your shoulders - all along your nerves. Another breeze moves through the lighthouse, and it kisses at the sheen of sweat that has broken along your hairline. 

Desperately, you want him. Desperately, you need him. But still it’s not enough. 

‘God,’ you keen, ‘I need to cum.’

Hoseok hums in understanding, the vibration of it moving deep inside you once more. 

‘Oh,’ you whine, so small and so close to breaking. 

Hoseok’s tongue leaves your cunt, only his fingers remaining, and he moves his mouth to your clit where he sucks at the swollen nub deftly. Again, your hand scratches down your thighs, harsh enough to draw blood. Red and angry, the sting of these scores against your flesh makes you smile, a manic and monstrous expression you hope your father, Daeus, and all the gods can see. Frustrated and feeling the coil of your orgasm tighten, your other hand slaps into the ground, gripping at the linen of Hoseok’s shirt. You dig your nails into it, pretending it is him, his skin, his cock, anything substantial to torture him as he tortures you.

Against your cunt, you feel Hoseok begin to laugh, wearing the smirk of the devil as he sucks diligently at your clit.

His name begins in your mouth and dies on an exhale, eyes open wide as you stare up at the ceiling. Vision glazed and vacant, your body trembles as your orgasm lingers dangerously on the precipice of your nerves, skin growing hot and bordering on a point of pain. You hear yourself crying, you feel yourself pressing harder and harder against Hoseok’s eager mouth, and you struggle to discern if the rush in your ears is your blood as it moves swiftly to find him or the ocean that works swiftly to keep your coupling secret. 

And then, without any warning at all, Hoseok once more latches his teeth to your clit.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, a wave of heat in your blood and skin, your juice cascading into Hoseok’s waiting mouth. This orgasm is an eruption, a shockwave in your soul that leaves you trembling while his relentless motions of tongue and hand milk you to completion. The tears you have held back begin to spill, soaking your cheeks as you soak his lips, a great wave over you that leaves you breathless.

‘Come up here,’ you gasp. ‘Come up here and kiss me.’

Slowly pulling his lips and fingers from your cunt, you hiss as he eases his way up your body. Using the tip of his tongue, he traces the shape of your parted lips with careful strokes, still messy and dripping with your slick juices. At your core, his cock presses, the contact sending tremors up your spine and causing a whine of pain to splinter in your throat. Granted permission by the sound alone, Hoseok delves his tongue inside your mouth and demands you taste yourself - you, your cum; him, his breath, his spit, his flavor; all of it, mixed together. Your walls clench as you kiss him, devouring him, as your folds seek to lure his cock inside you. 

Gasping against his mouth, you feel his tip press roughly against your core, your walls still sensitive but your body and spirit eager for his fullness. Hoseok pulls away from your lips to whine a low expletive, his resolve shaking and unstable, close to shattering by the force of his desire. His lips part on his sighs, breath slow and shallow, and still shimmering with you. Already, he had devoured you, drunk his fill and yet he still appears starved. As he lingers above you, Hoseok rolls his cock against your walls once more, a challenge, a reminder that he is exhausted by the prospect of not having his fill of you.

Moving your hands to his shoulders, you press your fingers into the soft skin of his back and muscles, letting them wander down and down until you grip the rounded flesh of his ass There, your grip tightens, threatening to push him inside you lest he waste any more time. 

‘Hoseok,’ you breathe. ‘I need you to fuck me.’

‘You want me to fuck you?’ he mumbles, running his tongue over your jaw before biting at your chin. ‘Tell me how badly.’

‘Please,’ you whimper, rolling your hips up against his cock, a warning against the tip. ‘I need you so badly it hurts.’

Wordlessly, Hoseok thrusts himself inside you to the hilt, balls pressing against you with a loud slap. You feel him shake inside you, body shivering with the sudden heat enveloping his cock. Hoseok’s moan is a deluge, an ecstatic exclamation howled victoriously into the juncture of your neck and shoulders, and you smile blankly at the ceiling, mind empty of all things that are not the feel of Hoseok against and inside you. 

His stillness is a tease you cannot endure, and so you clench yourself around him, his teeth biting at your skin as you release and repeat, urging him to move. The feel of his mouth at your skin, the feel of his heaviness pressed so roughly inside you, as your cunt leaking over him, back down into the floor where it coats your ass in its stickiness. Still, you pay little attention to anything other than his immense girth as it stretches you, your walls strained to accommodate him like always. 

Feeling you drip over and under him, he pulls out and thrusts back in, a knock at the door of your cervix and the sudden feel of him so deep as you groaning his name. He challenges you, repeating the motion as your bodies slide back along the floor with the force of his thrusts, the piercing sensation stealing your very breath. You are gasping as you clutch him, breasts moving against the fabric and nipples aching with the sensation, letting him push your body to its limits. 

‘Tell me you love me,’ he grits out, an echo of your earlier promises.

‘I love you,’ you choke, the words incomprehensible. 

‘Say it again,’ he hisses, executing a piercing thrust that has you gasping for breath, nails digging into his skin for purchase.

Squeezing your eyes closed, your hands move to the wings of his shoulder blades and you cling to him, a flightless bird. ‘I love you.’ 

When you hear yourself say it, you realize you are crying, your voice a sob of affirmation around tears of grief. It should be impossible to love someone this much, with the devastating whole of your existence. 

‘Tell me you love me,’ you plead, barely able to speak around the way Hoseok punishes your cervix, a punishment for abandoning him. 

‘I love you.’ Equally affected, his voice warbles over the words. Face buried in the crook of your neck, he presses the words over and over into your pulse. 

‘I love you, I love you.’

Slowing his pace, Hoseok accentuates his proclamations with brutal thrusts against your cervix. Slow as his thrusts may be, they are full of power and force, a pain against your walls and muscles ensuring you will never be free of him. Tears falling freely, your breath is as sharp as his thrusts, a burn in your lungs as you struggle to contain the cosmic feeling of love you hold inside. 

‘I know you like it when it hurts,’ he grits out, thrusts relentless. 

All you can manage is a nod, a moan, the dig of your nails into his skin, the acknowledgement that you would prefer it if he shattered you. You would prefer it if he left nothing behind of you at all.

‘I know you like it when I stretch you, when you can’t walk for days.’ 

‘I do,’ you nod weakly, legs automatically spreading wider - until your hips hurt, until you are certain your bones will bruise from the way you have spread yourself open just for him. 

Hoseok moans as a harmonic response to yours, the sack of his balls slapping diligently at your ass. You cling to him, holding him against you in despair, the vice grip of your hands matched only by the grip of your walls. Pleasure ripples through your synapses, an overload to your very synapses, little else registering in your mind apart from the places Hoseok penetrates within your core.

‘Do you want me to cum inside you?’

The pleading nature of his tone does not go unmissed, his own anguish evident in the way his hand cups your breast and his nails scratch at the flesh, wishing for entry. 

‘Yes.’

‘What if I get you pregnant?’ he muses, though he remains completely sincere. What if I fuck my baby into you? What will they do?’

‘I hope you do.’ It takes all your strength to speak without losing your breath. Once more your orgasm has started to build gloriously around the pain of taking him against your cervix, and you need him to know that you mean it. ‘I don’t care if they scorn me.’

‘I’ll do it,’ he bites out - not a threat, but a promise. ‘I’ll knock you up, fuck my baby into you. They’ll have to watch you grow someone else’s child. What a sight, huh? Bet Daeus would love to see you deliver another man’s baby.’

‘Do it.’

You see yourself, heavy and round with his child, glowing brilliantly like a constellation unto yourself. Carrying your offspring, you would be a supernova, the cradle of the very universe and you would celebrate it with every word breaking over laughter. Daeus would snarl at you, a sneer reserved for your growing belly; your father would find himself in a rage so beautiful and blinding, you think darkness would befall the earth, this winter sudden and unforgiving. The other gods would ignore you, this you are confident of and would take with pride. You’d tease them with it, finding yourself immensely confident in the power of being pregnant with Hoseok’s child. 

You’d carry his child as though this were your real pilgrimage within Teylim, your true purpose. 

And Hoseok, you know, would be your chosen king, god of the sun because he deserves it.

He deserves you. 

‘Yeah?’ he moans, hips picking up pace as he begins to chase his own high. Still, he loses none of the strength in his motions, seemingly motivated by your affirmation of desire.

‘Get me pregnant,’ you plead, biting your lip with shame at this impossible ask. A fool’s errand, a childish plea to change the way of things. ‘Make me stay with you,’ is your final whisper.

Together, you both fall silent as he fucks you with vigor, silent and awestruck by the violence of your coupling. With each thrust, your voices become a symphony of your union. Gripping him tightly, you hope it reaches the gods, your father, all of Teylim. You hope they see the way Hoseok fucks you, absolutely unforgiving. You hope they see the way you make a mess of yourself for him, that you have already decided on a husband and he is no god, no hero, but a man who loves you as though you are the whole of the sky. 

Hoseok trembles against you, and you sense his orgasm approaching in the way he gasps against your skin, thrusting harder and faster and, somehow, harder into your core. You are burning with the ache of containing him, but your own orgasm is cosmic, making its steady approach with each brutal thrust. Hoseok wanted to live inside you, wanted to give you a child, wanted to watch you swell with him alone - and it is these thoughts that send you over the edge, the universe apart from Hoseok melting into a white. In this orgasm, there is no air, no sea, no sky - only Hoseok; his breath, his smile as you cum around him, his ecstatic laughter.

You imagine yourself pregnant, learning to contain a sun inside your womb. You imagine him laughing, hands and lips at your belly. You imagine him happy. You imagine him happy, and your orgasm moves over you with the strength of a lunar tide, the same way your tears move over your cheeks, torn between sobs of bliss and sobs of grief for a life you will not have.

Hoseok continues to thrust into you with purpose, the last of your orgasm leaving you in shockwaves as the motions of his hips overstimulate your walls. It hurts to contain him, not nearly as much as it hurts to leave him, and you dig your nails into his skin, demanding all you can from him with enthusiasm. The world is tilted on its axis as he cums inside you, wave after wave of seed spilling into your core as you stroke tenderly at the hair at the base of his neck. Teeth chattering, you mumble his name, shivering as he spills himself inside you, and you pray, woefully, that he kept his word and left you with a piece of him.

‘Mine,’ he says, stilling inside you as the last of his orgasm quakes his mortal form. 

As his cock begins to soften inside you, the hand at your breast moves gently to the buttons. Your skin burns with the heat of the saliva he dripped against your neck, and he presses his cheek against your neck as he unbuttons the last of your dress. Exposed, now, to the sea breeze, your back arches slightly as the wind and his breath moves over your nipples. His hand cups your breast, too tender for the way he fucked you, and you are certain he is imagining your breasts full of milk, your body heavy, his wish granted, too. 

Pulling his cock free, you both grimace at the feeling, and he removes his hand from your breast to instead smear the cum from your core that leaks from between your walls over your folds. He strokes the tips of his fingers against your slit, the stimulation making you hiss and writhe beneath him in retreat, before you are crying out his name, his fingers dipping inside to scoop his cum from your center. As he pulls his hand free, his studies his fingers carefully, smirking not unlike the devil, before he guides them over your breasts and lets it drip.

And then, without warning, he begins to write his name along your breasts.

‘I am sanctifying you,’ he explains. ‘Anyone who pulls down your clothes will find me. I have already laid claim to your temple.’

Your smile is composed entirely of sadness, a hope that has made a home of despair evident in your expression. Holding his hand in yours, you guide his soaked fingers between the valley of your breasts to your stomach, where you hold him still.

‘With any luck it will be visible here,’ you offer, hoping he cannot hear how remorse has consumed you.

Hoseok frowns. ‘My biggest fear is that you do become pregnant and that I cannot see my baby grow in you. That I won’t be able to raise our family with you.’

Furrowing your brow, you tilt your head to the side in consideration, battling the new found grief that consumes you. ‘Did you not mean it?’

‘I meant every word,’ he promises, moving his hand from your stomach to cup your cheeks. ‘I’d put twins inside you if I had any control. But you are mine, our family is mine. I curse the gods for taking it from me.’ Hoseok falls silent, and you press your cheek into his hand, turning to kiss his mount of venus in encouragement. ‘The day I met you I saw my life with you,’ he continues, so quiet, and so unlike your Hoseok. ‘You are half of my soul.’

Abruptly, Hoseok lifts himself up and pulls away from you. As he rises to a stand, he is still warmed by your touch, the glow from your magic still draped over his muscles, turning him amber and yellow. He’s incandescent, as much as a god of light as you, more regal and more royal than any man who was lucky enough to slay a beast in your name. Running a hand through his hair, he regards you with dark eyes - embers burning in his rises of lust and longing, devotion and despair. He says nothing at all as he moves, naked and vulnerable, to the back corner of the room where he gathers his tools. 

‘What are you doing?’ you hum. Reaching your hand out, you curl onto your side, writhing in the pillow of your discarded clothes, beckoning him back to you. ‘Come back to me. It’s cold without you.’

He says nothing at all as he roots around, pulling out a thick screwdriver and hammer. 

‘He will give you rings,’ he says, more to himself than to you. 

The words come softly, barely a whisper that cuts through the air. Settling in front of the fog bell on his knees, he begins to hammer the end of the screwdriver into the metal, carving and carving. 

‘He will give you flowers,’ he grits out bitterly, ‘and will see your smiles in the morning. He will bring you food and nectar, and he will watch you glow your brightest. He will watch you glow each time you remember my hands on you, my lips on you. In bed, he will watch you glow, thinking it’s him, letting his own ego grow so immense he will get off on his own power rather than you. But he won’t know, not like I do. Not like we do.’

Sitting up, you don’t bother to cover your naked body, the breeze from the sea cooling your dampened skin. Licking your lips, you watch as his muscles strain with his pound of the hammer. Brow narrowed, jaw set, and hands gripping his tools with confidence, he marks the metal with a certainty born from a man learning to combat loneliness. 

‘He won’t know,’ he continues, words a grunt of demand and dominion. ‘No one will know that each time he touches you, you are comparing him to me. You will be remembering me. I want you to remember me. I want you to think of me, I want you to look for the light from this beacon, and I want you to outshine the anguish. I am destined to look for you the way so many people look for the North Star. My every storm is guided by you. So don’t you dare forget.’

The fog light spins overhead, clouds passing by and changing the refraction just enough to see the shimmer against his cheeks. Hoseok weeps as he carves, jaw unflinching, and hands steady with determination. A lump rises in the center of your throat, chest tight with the pain that comes from loving someone too much, entirely too much. Gasping for air, you move towards him, wanting his body pressed tightly against yours in comfort.

On instinct, you give him light - more light, so much light. From beneath your skin, you become torchlight, neon, candle flame; wrapping yourself around his back and shoulders, you rest your head on his shoulder and cling to him, becoming sunlight and firewood, banishing the darkness from his mind and mouth, a lamp unto his feet to lead him home. Pressing your lips at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, you feel him tremble beneath you, mindlessly leaning into you for more, endlessly more. 

As you turn to watch his hands, your own tears soak the corner of your eyes.

‘Hoseok,’ you breathe, regarding his craftsmanship.

‘He can’t give you light like I can,’ he murmurs, suddenly so small and so young, weakened suddenly by the ever looming distance between you. ‘He can give you all the falsehoods of husbandry, but he can’t give you light. He can’t give it back. He is not your equal like I am.’ 

Beneath the careful, diligent work of his hammer and screw, your name begins to take shape, just beneath his. The markings are deep, thick scratches unlikely to erode in any substantial length of time. Wind and sea will not wipe your names away, nor snow nor sand. Not even heaven, you think, could cause your names to smear. 

When he finishes, the bronze bell glimmers beneath your light, your names encased in a heart he artfully crafted. You imagine it in a wedding band - silver, and not gold. Gold, you think, is too soft and too malleable. The gods prefer it, a sign of eternal wealth and glory, but gold bends. Gold is too impermanent, value placed in all the wrong places. You would give Hoseok platinum, would give him silver, would give him bronze. If you had the power to move the earth, you would give him iron and steel, anything equally as enduring as the way you will be immortalized in ardor. 

‘I can’t believe this is all I will have of you.’ Hoseok stares at your names, at the jagged lines he carved into the bell, mourning. Shoulders slumped and hands folded neatly in his lap, he laments quietly to himself as though in prayer. ‘At the end of all this, this is all I have. Your name and a memory.’

Raising your hand to his chin, you turn his face to yours, biting your lip as he cries freely, tears staining the softness of his cheeks with salt. 

‘No one will have me, not like you.’ ‘He can take me, he can take my light, he can take my name, but he will never have my heart. All of me belongs to you. I am yours. Swear to me that you are mine.’

The hammer and screwdriver fall to the ground at his knees, a loud clank so disruptive for the quiet paradise you have built at the top of the lighthouse. Enveloping you in his arms, he buries his face in your neck, lips at the center of your throat - a place he has been so often this night you are determined to call it his home - tugging your hair back to make space for him. 

‘I’m yours,’ he swears passionately. ‘Not a single person will have me the way I’ve given myself to you. In a thousand summers, not a single one will pass in which I’m not yours.’

The conviction in his words undoes you, your eyes wide as you stare up at the ceiling, at the base of the light, feeling as though there is no difference between the moon and the sun, not anymore. For you, they are interchangeable, each burning in an hour of love; which is to say, there will be no hour that passes in which you do not love him, no hour passing in which your light does not belong to him and his does not belong to you. 

‘I wish I could stay like this.’ These affectionate speeches tumble from your lips, your mind empty of misgivings, wishing to be as honest as you are naked. ‘I wish I could stay this way, forever touching you.’

‘Time is meaningless,’ he muses, detached and distant, even as you hold him. ‘For me, this is the end of my life. There will be nothing else after this. For me, it will always be this way. My arms will always be around you.’

For him, you are glad. For him, you are relieved that there shall be no other moment than this. 

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

The seaside feels like the edge of destruction after so long away from it, gravity pressing at your bones. From where you stand, the unchanging nature of the earth makes a mockery of your nerves, the past beating against your sternum like a second heart.

You are poised and still, relearning the way the earth is unforgiving compared to the heavens. Too long have you been removed from such a tangible feeling of living, such a tangible reminder that you, too, are made of flesh and blood and all the things that break so easily, just like ocean foam. Your toes bury themselves into the rocky shore, rooting yourself like a tether as a promise that you will not run away, that you will not leave - not again. As though it senses your presence, the sea rages beneath a cloudless sky, the sun’s rays reflecting off the water, illuminated without any need of you.

The lighthouse looms along the hilltop, and you worry your bottom lip as you study its eternal guardianship. All these unchangeable things, loyal without you, and yet you stand here, begging for acceptance. You can hear Hoseok’s words like an echo, words not yet spoken but you anticipate them, the lump in your throat sinister in its tenacity. 

How dare you, he will shout, and the tears on his cheeks will be your parting gift. How dare you haunt me here when I did not expect you, when I had already worked so hard to give you up. 

Promises in the dead of night are easy to make when the daylight has yet to take anything from you. The earth remains unchanged but you are evidence of the passage of time, and you are certain Hoseok will have warred with himself so completely your memory of him is little more than a ghost of a man who died the moment he woke to find you missing. 

He used to be able to sense you here. Back when things were new and things were simple, back even at the end, he would sense your presence along the water and come running, a smile already at his cheeks in welcome. Stroking your naked hip with the tips of his fingers, he told you all about his skin would tingle when you were close, a static on his tongue that told him something too important to be contained by the earth was waiting for him. Even before he knew you, before he knew it was you, he felt it, as though he had been made just to know you, to find you. 

It used to be the same for you, a pull to the shore and a lightness of being that always made you stand here, in this place, waiting. Weeks passed before either of you had any idea you were near one another, before you’d even introduced yourself, and now it is the same. Your body combats the change in gravity with strength, though you realize too much has changed in you for the weight to feel the same. 

The hair at the back of your neck stands on end, rising in anticipation as the air becomes thick and heavy. You feel him approaching, a magnetic pull against your back that has your posture shifting, pulling you to your full height regardless how heavy all of you feels. Still, he doesn’t close the distance, and your lips part around a sigh, silently asking him to reach for you, to touch you.

But he won’t.

Not when he thinks you are the same as you were. Not when he thinks this is all just a memory.

Closing your eyes, you turn to face him, feeling tears burn against the lids. Hoseok makes no movement towards you, and, unable to hold back any longer, you open your eyes once more, weeping at the sight of him. Chewing at the inside of your cheek, you study the way he looks at you, the way his gaze traverses your form with a pained expression, the knot in his brow visible even from a distance. He’s far from you, far enough you cannot touch him, but he, too, remains unchanged - still beautiful, still glorious, still the sun king himself, and you choke back a bitter cry at the way it seems only you are the one who was allowed to change.

‘Hello,’ you try, offering a weak and unsteady smile.

Hoseok says nothing as he closes the distance, eyes trained at your middle, focused enough you feel him move inside you. He lets himself get close, close enough your skin calls out to his eagerly, begging him to touch you. You can smell him on the wind, the same musk, the same ambergris, the same dust that you remember, and your hands twitch at your sides, straining to reach out to him. 

‘What is this?’ he manages, not looking you in the face.

‘I -’ A small cry cuts you off, and you press your hand to your lips, forcing yourself to keep your composure. 

Hearing the anguish in your voice, he raises his gaze to yours and you see the way he mirrors your pain, confused and bewildered. 

‘Tell me what this is,’ he whispers, fierce and demanding. 

‘It’s exactly how it looks,’ you explain, feeling terribly pathetic.

It’s so simple, you know. Absolutely obvious. Your pregnant belly sticks out far enough now it leaves a distance between you, a gap where your child grows the only thing that separates you. 

‘Did you come here to mock me?’ he spits, leaning forward with venom.

‘No!’ you exclaim, holding your hand up in surrender. ‘I…’ you drift off, uncertain where to begin. You decide, perhaps, it’s best to begin with the truth. ‘The baby is yours.’ 

Hoseok’s expression shatters, a thousand different feelings breaking over his face before he settles on disbelief and quiet rage.

‘Why would you show me this?’ he pleads, sounding so small. ‘Have I not suffered enough? You knew I wished for this and now you tease me with it?’

‘I’m not here to show you anything, Hoseok, and certainly not to cause you pain.’ It’s shocking how tired you are becoming, putting in the effort of not reaching for him, not weeping for him, not rushing to an end you both deserve. ‘They...rejected me,’ is all you manage in the end.

Hoseok sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes watering as he lowers his focus to your belly once more. ‘They stopped the wedding?’

He speaks so softly you almost do not hear him over the rolling tide, and now, you cannot be contained. In one swift motion, you reach for his hand twining your fingers together. Your hold on him is unrelenting, not allowing him a single escape. Feeling his palm against yours is all the motivation you need, a resurgence of energy you have been missing for months.

When you continue to remain silent, he narrows his brow and persists. ‘Are you unmarried?’

‘They were going to go through with,’ you explain quickly, not allowing him any room for interjection. ‘They were going to make me marry him. Daeus even said he’d give the child to a human family, make it go through a Hero’s Journey to join us back in Teylim. Gods, the fight I put up to stop that from happening. The Fate Tying went poorly,’ you finish with a sardonic grin.

Gently, you tug Hoseok against you, forcing his stomach to bump against yours. His heated breath cascades over your skin, and you sigh in pleasure.

‘The child is completely human, my love,’ you whisper, eyes searching his face. ‘The Moirai refused to untie us.’ Incredulous, you laugh, looking out over the grassy hill in wonder. ‘The old crones are always right.’

The weight of your explanation steals Hoseok’s breath, and he falls against you, clinging to you as he sobs into your shoulder. Holding him close, you remember the last time you were in this position, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt, your hands clutching him, unwilling to be removed. As though sensing the great wave of his emotion, the child in your belly stirs abruptly, pressing against your womb to get his attention. 

You jump slightly at the feel of it, and Hoseok looks down, laughing, incandescent in his joy. He brings his hand to your belly, touching softly at where your child had just been, and he sniffles, looking to you and back down, cheeks reflecting the light you suddenly cannot contain. 

‘It’s a girl,’ you state, always wondering how he would react to knowing he’d have a daughter. ‘Our daughter kept me with you.’

Falling to his knees, he holds your belly in his hands and presses his forehead against its peak, too overcome with emotion to utter a word. Instead, he simply breathes deeply, wrought with bliss. Lowering a hand to the crown of his head, you thread your fingers through your hair and think that this, this precise moment, is what it means to be a goddess.

This is what it means to truly be sanctified.

#jhope smut #bts hoseok smut #bangtansorciere #bangtangames #kwritersworldnet #jhope x you #jhope x reader #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #bts hoseok x you #bts hoseok x reader #jhope fanfic #jhope fanfiction #bts smut #bts hoseok fanfiction #bts hoseok fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jhope #jung hoseok

[syubseokie]

morning ride (m) | jhs

― pairing: fem!reader x hoseok (jung hoseok) ― genre: smut, non-idol!au, college!hoseok, one night stand au ― warnings: swearing, pwp, explicit sexual content, oral (f & m receiving), handjob, fingering, road head (pls do not actually give someone head while they are driving cus it is dangerous), outdoor car sex, excessive use of the pet name [redacted], praise kink, soft-dom!hoseok, protected sex (don’t be silly, wrap that willy kids!), multiple orgasms, slight exhibitionism, let me know if i forgot anything else ― summary: following the party where you and Hoseok meet, the two of you agree to grab breakfast at a nearby restaurant franchise. due to a maintenance issue, there is a thirty minute wait on your food so you agree to pass the time with some morning exercise OR the one where you give Hoseok road head and he repays the favour in an empty McDonald’s parking lot. ― notes: alternative ending to ‘can we talk’ | cross-posted on ao3

∞

Hoseok’s lips are soft against your own and you melt a little inside. His hand tenderly cups the back of your head and pulls you a little bit closer to him, the pressure of his kiss indicating that he wholeheartedly approves of your decision. You moan when he licks at the entrance of your mouth and you grant him access immediately, circling your arms around his shoulders and threading your fingers through his silky hair.

You had never understood the sentiment “the world seems to disappear around you” until you kissed Hoseok and your heart briefly aches at the memory of your ex and the fact that it was something you unknowingly failed to experience with them. And, although you know your choices up until this point have been a direct result of you wallowing in your heartache, you decide that now isn't the time to do so.

Especially when Hoseok’s fingers trace the nape of your neck and send shivers down your spine.

The fact is, you’re heartbroken, hungry, and horny; three adjectives that you know should not be the dictating source of your actions but ultimately are. Besides, you rationalise, isn’t this what the college experience is all about?

“Do you think―mmph―”

Hoseok is the first to pull away, albeit reluctantly, and the pout on your lips shows that you very much disagree with him doing so. He laughs at your expression, tenderly running his thumb over your bottom lip. “We should probably get in the car―”

You raise your brows suggestively.

“Not like that, you perv.” He mockingly scolds. “But I distinctly remember saying that we were going to get breakfast and then have uninterrupted car sex. If we keep standing here,” he gestures to the house where the party is still going on, “We will definitely be interrupted. Unless you’re into that kind of thing?”

You playfully shove him before opening the front passenger door. “Don’t lie, Hoseok. You just want a free meal.”

“And I was trying so hard to hide it,” he jokes, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Any particular place in mind?”

“I could be keen for a bacon and egg mcmuffin.”

“Really? McDonald’s?”

“What’s wrong with McDees?”

Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “You just won five hundred dollars and you want to eat McDonald’s?”

You shrug. “I’m a simple person. Money doesn’t phase me.”

“Or you’re just a tight ass,” he mumbles teasingly, putting on his seatbelt.

“My tight ass is something I am very proud of, thank you for noticing,” you reply, also securing your belt. “Though, I don’t know if I appreciate the sarcasm. I guess you’ll be paying for your own breakfast then?”

“You’re breaking my heart, Princess.”

Unlike the first time, the nickname sends a tingle straight to your core. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, hoping Hoseok doesn’t notice the way you’ve clenched your thighs together and the red tint flooding your cheeks. Unfortunately―or fortunately, you internally confess―he does notice and the chuckle that leaves his lips as he starts the car is dark and promising.

“Interesting.”

∞

The drive to McDonald’s seems to take far longer than your patience allows. But that can also be due to the fact that you’ve been playing with your hands in your lap since the drive began, in an attempt to distract yourself from Hoseok’s gaze as he drives. You are not sure how he does it ― focusing on the road but also glancing at you every so often with a hungry glint in his eye.

If you were to put your Poker winnings on it, you would bet that it isn’t food he’s hungry for.

However, the feeling is mutual. Despite the awkward twiddling of your thumbs, the thoughts that roam your mind are anything but innocent. Hoseok is so hot and the memory of his lips on yours is enough for the chemicals in your brain to send a signal to your throbbing core. The two of you have barely said anything, the low hum of a familiar reggae slow jam playing on the radio filling the silence, but the moment you lock eyes with Hoseok through your peripheral vision, you say to yourself “fuck it” and decide that the rest of the ride to the fast food restaurant does not have to be palpable with anticipated sexual tension.

“We’re going to play a game,” you announce with faux nonchalance and facing your body towards Hoseok. He arches an eyebrow, silently encouraging you to continue. “I’m going to suck your dick while you drive, and if you can hold off from coming until we pull into the drive-through, I’ll buy you breakfast elsewhere.”

“Is this a game or a proposition?” he laughs.

“To-may-to, to-muh-to.”

“Interesting…” he murmurs, eyes focused on the road. “I am one hundred percent into this, but what would be the point of us going to McDonald’s if I’m just going to win?”

You shrug, eyeing his denim-covered crotch hungrily. “Regardless of the outcome, I’ll get my mcmuffin and you’ll get road head. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Is uninterrupted car sex still on the table?”

“It never left.” Your hands inch over the centre console towards his thighs. Before you can put your hands where you want to most, Hoseok halts your movements with a gentle grasp of your wrist. You look at him questioningly.

“Are you sure?” His voice is soft and genuine. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

You’re touched by the concern laced in his tone and verbally reassure him of your willingness. His breathing hitches and his knuckles clench around the steering wheel when your fingers graze his lap and you can’t hide the smirk on your face. “So,” you lean in dangerously close to his ear and purposefully lower your voice to a sultry whisper as your hand runs over the prominent tent his pants, “What do you say, Jung? Wanna play?”

“Fuck―yeah, okay.”

Grinning wickedly, you undo his jeans and Hoseok sighs loudly in relief when you free him from the confines of his briefs. His cock is warm and velvety in your hands, and what he lacks in girth he makes up for in length. You swipe your thumb over the slit of the red, leaking tip and when you taste him on your tongue, you can’t help but rush to put your mouth on him.

The sound Hoseok makes in response is low, deep and drawn out as he puts his free hand on the back of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, slightly tugging, and you moan around his cock in satisfaction.

“Oh sweet baby Jesus,” he whines, forcing his eyes to focus on the road. Your mouth feels so good around him and he is thankful that there is no one else on the road because he is driving way below the normal speed limit. “Fuck you feel so good, Princess.”

You hum happily as your head bobs up and down around his cock, your tongue dragging along the shaft. Your hand pumps what your mouth cannot fit and your eyes water every time his tip hits the back of your throat. Having him in your mouth is such a pleasant feeling and you try to imagine how he would feel inside of you, the thought being enough to make your panties even wetter. Drool leaks from the corner of your mouth and you use it to coat Hoseok’s cock with your hands. He tugs on your hair a little bit more and you moan again, the vibrations from your throat making him gasp.

“Baby,” he chokes, his eyes glancing between the road and the speedometer on his dashboard, “God, please don’t stop.”

You pull off with a ‘pop’, making him whine in frustration, and you take in your surroundings. “How far?”

“At the speed I’m going? Five minutes tops.”

“Think you can hold it?”

Hoseok catches his breath and eyes you with a raised brow. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

You smirk and put your mouth on him once more, adding more vigour and urgency to your moves. Your hand moves in tandem with your mouth, licking and slurping all you can to bring Hoseok closer to the edge. His hand returns to your head and the sting from his fingers pulling your hair only drives you more to make him come. He curses loudly, grunting your name and struggling to not thrust himself into your mouth.

“Almost there,” he murmurs, and you’re not sure if he’s referring to the restaurant but you force him deeper into your mouth and swallow. The noise he makes is so fucking hot and it turns you on even more. You can feel him swelling inside of you and grin to yourself as you bob your head faster. He curses between clenched teeth, flicking on the indicator to turn, and in a final effort, you push yourself to take him fully in your mouth once more, gagging when he hits the back of your throat again, and swallow around him. Your eyes water and you struggle to breathe but the sound of him yelling “FUCK!” followed by the warm, salty liquid sliding down your throat somehow feels worth it. You want to smile, but instead, you concentrate on swallowing every drop of cum and licking him clean.

When you finally release him, he is staring at you in absolute awe and lust. You also note that you have pulled up outside of the McDonald’s drive-through.

“So,” you begin, wiping the corner of your mouth for any remainder of his spend, “I guess that means you lose, right?”

His eyes are wide and his breathing is heavy, and before you can say anything else, he pulls you in for a deep kiss, his tongue sweeping the crevices of your mouth and tasting himself. When he pulls away, the two of you are both breathless, your panties are soaked, and you note that he is semi-hard again.

“That,” he breathes, stroking your cheek gently, “was the hottest fucking thing I have ever experienced.”

You smile giddily and wait for him to tuck himself back into his pants before he proceeds to drive to the speaker.

∞

“Wh-who knew that―ohmygodohmygodohmygod―a twenty-four hour f-fast-food restaurant would―that feels so good―be closed at four-thirty in the morning for a s-scheduled maintenance clean―FUCK!”

According to the customer service rep at the drive-through window, they were still taking food orders, but there was a twenty to thirty minute wait on the food. Decidedly, you and Hoseok weren’t in any rush to eat, and being it that you won your little game in the car, Hoseok had no choice but to wait so you could get your mcmuffin.

Besides, there were plenty of ways you and Hoseok could pass the time in an empty parking lot. One of which included you lying on your back on top of the roof of Hoseok’s car with his head between your thighs, licking your clit and thrusting his fingers inside of you.

“Princess,” he purrs, bringing his head up with your juices glistening on his chin, “I know I said ‘try not to come’, but this isn’t exactly sexy talk for either of us.”

You pout. “But I don’t want to come.”

He smirks and drags the pad of his finger against your g-spot, and you arch your back with a sinful moan. “Are you sure?” You shake your head stubbornly, clenching your fists at your side, as you grind against Hoseok’s hand. “Because your body is responsive and it’s telling me that you want to come.”

“Want to come on your cock,” you mumble.

“What was that, baby? Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come on your cock,” you say a little louder with a pout. “Please?”

Hoseok smirks and bends down once more. “You will, Princess, you will. But first, I want you to come on my tongue.”

You cry out when his tongue makes contact with your clit again and you forcefully pull his hair as you grind your pussy against his face. His fingers are relentlessly thrusting in and out of you, a teaser as to what is to come, and you curse loudly when the combination of his tongue and fingers trigger a delicious feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your walls clench a little tighter, Hoseok smirks devilishly when they do, and your juices flow even more when you feel your climax building.

“Hoseok, I’m gonna―”

“Come, Princess.”

Your climax is explosive and heavenly all at the same time as you coat Hoseok’s tongue with your essence. Your toes and fingers curl as your orgasm courses through your body like a rush of adrenaline, leaving you panting heavily as sweat dots your forehead and pools at the nape of your neck. The feeling is prolonged with each swipe against your clit and every thrust of his fingers inside of you. The feeling is oh so deliriously glorious, but soon the pleasure collects into over-sensitivity, and you tap Hoseok’s head in surrender.

“Too much,” you stutter helplessly, wincing when he finally yields and withdraws his fingers from your soaking core. Wetness spills out onto the car and Hoseok watches in a trance.

“So fucking sexy,” he whispers before bringing his fingers to his mouth and noisily sucks on them. You’re embarrassed at the show he puts on but the look on his face tells you he isn’t finished with you. “Inside the car. Now.”

Sluggishly, with a hint of clumsiness, you manage to haul yourself off the roof of the car, ignoring the wet puddle you leave behind, and slide after Hoseok into the backseat. The moment you close the door, Hoseok is pulling you on to his lap and crashing his lips against yours. The act of tasting yourself has never been something you have personally indulged in, but you ignore the tangy taste of you on Hoseok’s tongue and focus on taking his clothes off. With his upper body bare, you pull back and rake your gaze over his lean muscles, appreciating his fit figure.

Not one to be outdone, Hoseok peels off your clothes and licks his lips seductively when he takes in the nude-coloured bra covering your chest. Self-conscious, you bring your arms to cover your chest, but he is quick to grab your arms and lace your fingers.

“Is this okay?” His voice is surprisingly soft, and you can’t help but giggle at the juxtaposition of events. “What’s so funny?” he asks, smiling.

“Nothing,” you reply. “I’m just laughing because not even two minutes ago you were telling me to come on your tongue, and now we’re sitting in your car, half-naked, and you’re asking me if this is okay.”

“I’m nothing if not a gentleman, Princess.”

You duck your head shyly. “So you’ve shown me.”

“Well,” Hoseok releases one of your hands and brings your gaze back to him with a gentle hand on your chin, “Let me show you just how much more of a gentleman I can be, hm?”

“Okay.”

Undoing his pants and pulling himself out of his boxers, Hoseok retrieves a gold foil packet from behind the driver’s seat pocket, tears it open, and expertly rolls the condom on before pulling you back onto his lap. Pulling your drenched underwear to the side, he guides you over his cock, coating his tip with your juices, then slowly slides you down onto him. The two of you groan at the contact, the burn deliciously igniting you inside, and when you’re fully seated in his lap, he sends you a dangerous smirk that has your walls clenching around him.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Princess. You’re going to come on my cock twice before I finish, okay?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Two mind-blowing orgasms?”

“How gentlemanly of you.” you deadpan.

“What can I say, babe,” he thrusts up sharply, and you cover your mouth with your hand to muffle your scream. “Ladies first.”

You find purchase on the top of the backseat as Hoseok pistons his cock in and out of you, his hands holding your hips. Erotic noises escape your lips when you roll your hips against his own. You’re a panting, moaning, wanton of a mess and Hoseok has never seen anything hotter.

“Christ, you’re so fucking gorgeous, Princess,” he sighs as he watches his cock disappear in and out of you, “Maybe I should start calling you ‘goddess’ instead because the sight and feeling of you bouncing up and down on my cock is nothing if not a religious fucking experience.”

You try to chuckle at the pun but the sound becomes a sharp whine when your clit grazes against his pelvis. Nonetheless, his words ignite a fiery burning of want and need to make sure that this is the best fuck of his life. Invigorated, you tell Hoseok to stay still before sliding off his hard member, discarding your underwear, and then with your back to his chest, you climb back on to his lap and use your hand to guide him back into you. Your juices make it easy to slide on, and the groan he releases mixed with squelching of your pussy when his cock drags against your inner walls is loud, making you grin widely. You ignore the burn in your thighs and use his knees as leverage as you rise and sink down on him. You hear him curse before you feel his hand on the clasp of your bra.

“Can I?”

You’re nodding, wanting to feel his long fingers around your hardened nipples desperately, and before you know it, he has undone the clip and you’re sliding your arms out of the straps and depositing the garment next to him. One arm comes to your chest and the other slides down towards your clit, and when both his hands make contact with their predetermined destinations, you gasp aloud and catch yourself before you fall forward.

“Hoseok―oh god!”

You tremble in his arms, willing yourself to keep moving your hips up and down but the feeling he creates with his fingers playing with your nipples and clit in tandem is so distracting and before you know it, your second orgasm is crashing over you in waves of euphoria.

“That’s it, Princess,” he coaxes huskily, still rubbing at your clit, “Soak my cock with your juices. Fuck―you feel so fucking good. Keep riding me like that, baby, it feels so fucking good.”

You whimper at the oversensitivity but obey, slowly riding out your high. When he feels you begin to sag forward, Hoseok gently removes his fingers from between your legs and lifts your body like you weigh nothing. He tells you to put your knees on the seat and lean on the centre console before bringing your ass up and slowly sliding back into you. You hiss at the slight stretch, a stuttered cry in your throat. He murmurs sweet words ― praising you for how well you listen, how pliant your body is in his hands, how good you feel ― with his hand resting on your lower back as he guides your lethargic form back and forth. You allow yourself to sink into the feeling of being used in this way, noting the exhaustion and relief is the most relaxed you have felt in months.

Steadily, Hoseok’s pace increases as does your breathing. You sob when he hits a particular spot that makes your toes curl in pleasure and you feel the sure-tell signs of an incoming orgasm. Your walls clench around his cock once more and Hoseok smirks.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? Come for me one more time before I do?”

You nod fervently.

“Fuck yeah, come for me, Princess. You’re so fucking good for me, I know you can give me one more.”

His pace quickens and you bring your fingers to collect your dripping juices before softly rubbing at your bundle of nerves.

You are so fucking sensitive, but you want to come ― need to come.

“Yes, baby, touch yourself. Make yourself come. Please.”

The hitch in his voice and the stutter in his hips tell you that he is just waiting for you, ready to let go, and with only a few more circles around your clit mixed with the pounding of his cock, you come again; your walls squeezing him and triggering his release.

“Oh―FUCK!”

The curse word is drawn out in a long, salacious moan and his fingers grip your hips so tightly against his own that you hope they leave marks. Your orgasm is not as explosive as the first two, but it still courses through your veins and you are exhausted and satiated all the same. Your body slumps, sticky with sweat, and you pant heavily. You feel Hoseok softening inside of you and as he slowly pulls out, you ungracefully collapse against the backseat.

“That was―” you inhale deeply and close your eyes with a dreamy smile, “fucking incredible.”

You hear Hoseok laugh and open one eye to see him tying his condom and discarding it in a food wrapper. He reaches over into the glovebox compartment and pulls out a packet of baby wipes before turning to you. “Is it okay if I…” your eyes drift between his gaze on you and the wipes and nod. His hands are tender when he cleans you and you avert your gaze, noticing the car windows have fogged up.

“Looks like we pulled a Titanic,” you joke, pointing at the windows when Hoseok looks up.

“At least there’s no handprints on the window.”

The two of you laugh but are quickly interrupted by the sound of soft tapping on the driver window. You share a look of mild horror and quickly rush to put your clothes on. You note that your underwear are ruined, and with a knowing smirk, Hoseok swipes them from your hands and stuffs them in his pocket.

“No point in keeping them if you can’t wear them.”

You debate arguing the use of a washing machine, but remembering that someone is standing outside the car and you’re pretty sure knows what the two of you are doing ― or have done ― you decide that losing one pair of underwear will be less mortifying than what is about to transpire and climb into the front passenger seat next to Hoseok. With a final once-over to make sure you are decently dressed, your male companion clears his throat and winds the window down to see an employee holding your order with a bored expression.

Hoseok lights up in recognition and greets them with a cheerful “Hey Yoongi!” that makes you stare at him in bewilderment.

“You know him?”

“Of course! He’s my flatmate.”

You’re mortified at Hoseok’s unperturbed reaction.

The employee, Yoongi, rolls his eyes and thrusts the food towards Hoseok. “One bacon and egg mcmuffin combo, one hotcake combo, one hotcake on its own and an extra hash brown with two coffees?”

“Thanks, Yoongles. Did you throw in extra butter?”

The blond male snorts. “Fuck off. You have sex in the parking lot of where I work and you expect me to give you extra condiments?”

“To be fair,” Hoseok argues as he hands you the drinks, “I wanted breakfast at the diner down the road.”

“And yet here you are.”

Your cheeks are flushed an embarrassing red and you sink down into the seat. “Oh my god…”

Before Hoseok can reply, Yoongi walks away but not before throwing a “don’t forget I finish at six!” over his shoulder. The brunet male, however, is not paying attention as he begins to unpack the bag of food.

You shake your head incredulously. “We just had sex in your flatmate’s workplace parking lot.” You can’t find it in yourself to be mad when he hands you your food with a heart-shaped smile.

“Yoongi’s not bothered by it. The amount of times I’ve walked through the front door to the sound of him getting his dick sucked outweighs this one incident.”

“So...you’ve never done this before?” you internally cringe at how meek your voice sounds and take a bite of your mcmuffin.

Hoseok looks at you from the corner of his eye. “No, I haven’t.” The silence that follows is not awkward while the two of you eat, but he can see the gears turning in your mind. “Are you mad that I didn’t tell you my flatmate works here?”

You ponder his question for a moment, but you shake your head in response. “Not really. A little embarrassed, sure, but I guess it just adds to the ambience of this whole night. Makes for a good story to tell Taehyung later.”

You share a laugh and the rest of your meal is consumed with story-swapping and learning more about each other. When you both finish, Hoseok pulls out of the parking lot and you give him directions back to your place. The atmosphere during the ride back is comfortable and filled with idle chat mixed with the low hum of the radio, and when his car pulls up to your residence, the morning sun is starting to come up in the horizon. You see Taehyung’s car parked up and you internally sigh in relief that your friend is home safely.

“Thank you for bringing me home, Hoseok,” you say, undoing your belt.

“Thank you for hanging out with me tonight,” he replies with a wiggle of his eyebrows, making you laugh. “It was fun.”

“Definitely.” You climb out of the car, readjusting your clothes and remember that you’re not wearing underwear. Just as you are about to walk away from the car, Hoseok calls your name, and you look back.

“I don’t even know if people still give out their numbers anymore,” he begins, looking unsure of himself, “but would it be alright if I grabbed yours? Or some form of contact? Could even be a social media handle, it doesn’t really bother me. I would just really like to see you again. And I know that you’re still obviously processing a lot of things, but even if it means that we can just hang out like we’ve done tonight ― sex or not, if that’s what you’re okay with ― I think that would be cool.”

At this point, you know he’s rambling nervously.

“Plus, I have your underwear which, now that I say out loud, sounds kind of creepy and if it bothers you, I’ll give it back to you.”

“Give me your phone, Hoseok.”

A smile breaks out onto his handsome face and you melt a little inside. He hands you his cellphone and you do the rounds of putting your contact in his phone and then finding your social media account to follow yourself from his account. You pass his phone back and with a final wave paired with a “text me”, you turn and make your way inside. By the time you have settled in your room, after leaving a glass of water and two ibuprofen tablets next to a passed out Taehyung on the couch and then showering, there is a text notification from an unknown number on your phone.

Hey, it’s Hoseok. It was really nice to meet you.

fin.

―

a/n: hiya!

the alternative ending is here! i have to say, this took a little bit longer to write due to a minor writing block and then trying to figure out how to write smut again ― hence my re-written edition of ‘jealous’ ― and then i got sick and had to give my body a few days to recover. all in all, i am really happy with this piece, considering it’s the first original piece i have written and finished in about a year and a half. writing smut is still a bit of a writing stretch for me but so far, i am enjoying the challenge. with that being said, i am still nervous to publish this, as i am with all my writing.

in terms of future work, i do have a few wips i am planning, some of which include re-written pieces of previous work and plans for a short series which i am excited about working on! if you would like to see what i have coming soon, feel free to check out my wips here.

thank you so much for reading my work. I’m always open to thoughts and feedback, so feel free to drop a like, reblog or send me a message!

please look forward to my other work ♡

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#written by syubseokie #syubseokie fics #jung hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #jung hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts au #bts smut #college hoseok au #non-idol bts au #one night stand bts au #hoseok scenarios #jhope fic #hoseok fic #jung hoseok x you #jhope x you #bts fics #bts scenarios #bts fanfic

[jeongvision]

[ 4:33 PM ] ➞ [ 10:38 PM ] ➞ [ 6:21 PM ] ➞ [ 9:04 AM ]

pairing. husband! jeong jaehyun ✗ fem! reader

genre. fluff (!!), humor, domestic au, parent au, non idol au

warnings. y’all i’m so devastated that the father of my future child won’t be someone like jaehyun in this blurb :( heart been broke so many times

author’s note. this is the final installation of my timestamp mini-series! thank you all for reading and liking this! until next time <3

“Minho?” you called out.

The boy in question looks up to you with beady eyes, lips pursed from his mouth full of cereal. You chuckle at his silly demeanor and went to grab a napkin to wipe off the leftovers that stayed glued to his face. “Are you that hungry, baby? Did you eat anything for dinner last night?”

He swallows the remaining cereal in his mouth before answering you, proper etiquette he learned from you. “I did! Daddy cooked us some pasta last night,” he nods enthusiastically. There’s an excited look shining through his eyes, “It was really yummy, mommy!”

Just earlier, the 4-year-old boy woke up from his slumber after not feeling your presence in bed, confused as to where his mother could have gone. After walking out of yours and Jaehyun’s shared bedroom, careful to not wake up his father and twin sister in bed, he found you in the kitchen preparing breakfast. The delightful scent wafted through the air, waking up his tired eyes almost immediately. His two little feet brought him running to your legs, giggles filling in the spaces as his arms wrapped around your knee, hugging you with so much love that it melted your drowsiness away.

You tuck some strands away from his forehead, fingers weaving through his soft locks. “Yes, daddy does cook some really good food, huh?” You smile at your son, “Can you go wake up daddy and Minji for mommy, please? It’s time for us to have breakfast.”

With a nod, he runs back into the bathroom, not minding the tumbling sounds he’s making from his little rumbling steps. He barges into the bedroom and sees his father and sister still snoozing the morning away, both of their jaws slacked slightly open. Minji’s head rests against Jaehyun’s forearm, her limbs spread out like a starfish. Meanwhile the latter had his free arm laying across his blanket-covered abdomen, body aligned straight as a soldier’s.

Minho lets out a giggle before climbing onto the bed, his dimples poking through, a trait he inherited from his father. He shakes his sister’s shoulders, “Minji! Wake up! Mommy says it’s time for breakfast!” But she only mumbles incoherently, absentmindedly swatting away his pestering hands. He reaches over to his father and shakes him instead after gaining an unfavorable outcome from her. “Daddy! Mommy said to wake up! We have to eat breakfast now!”

Fortunately for him, Jaehyun was actually more responsive than the latter as he slowly opens his eyes, groggily groaning awake from his son’s spirited voice. However, he closes his eyes back to sleep, counting sheep in his dreams. Minho wouldn’t take that as an answer, so he proceeds to stand up in bed and start jumping, careful to not step on them in the process. “Wake up! Wake up! If we don’t eat breakfast, we don’t go to Disney!” And just from the word ‘Disney’, Minji almost instantaneously rises up from her father’s arm, head perked up.

“Disney? Did you say we’re going to Disney?”

Minho stops his jumping and plops down on the bed in front of her. He nods exuberantly, “Mhm! Mommy and daddy said yesterday that we are going to Disney today. That’s why we have to eat our food before we can go!”

Minji cheers gleefully to his words, her own set of dimples poking in her cheeks. And so, she assists her brother in waking their father up, jumping up and down on the bed in unison to cause more havoc to Jaehyun’s sleep.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy!”

“Wake up, wake up!”

“Mommy said it’s time to eat!”

“Mommy said she won’t love you anymore if you don’t wake up!”

After hearing the last statement, he instantly lifts his head, an eyebrow raised. “Who said mommy won’t love me anymore? Hm?” he jokingly challenges. The twins stop their ministrations and, to avoid the blame, point at each other, a fit of giggles after doing so. 

“He did!”

“She did!”

He sits up from his position which prompted both of the twins to quickly dash off the bed, squeals and laughter resonating the halls of their humble adobe as they run off to safety they call their mother. He rolls his eyes before plopping back in bed.

“Have kids, they said,” he mumbles. “It’ll be fun, they said,” and yet, there’s a smile on his face that he can’t seem to wipe off. As much as how much of a headache they can be, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He would do anything to keep his family safe and happy, even if he has to sacrifice hours of his peaceful sleep for it.

While he slowly strips the sleep out of his system in the bedroom, the kitchen was booming with sounds and chatters, plates and utensils clinking and clanking one another as you set up the table. As you were plating your children’s plates with delicious goods, you felt an arm wrapping around your figure, one that enveloped you in love and care.

You turn your head to see Jaehyun resting his chin on your shoulder, a sweet smile dressing his lips and you inhaled in his scent. “Good morning, my love.”

You let out a laugh, “Good morning to you too, my sleepyhead.”

“Hey, not my fault the kids wouldn’t let me sleep last night.”

“That’s because you let them have ice cream late after having their dinner,” you reasoned, waving a finger at him. “You know that’s a no-no in the Jung household. No late desserts after dinner.”

He playfully snorts to your words and mumbles under his breath, “But I wanted some ice cream too..”

After you all have a boisterous breakfast together, the kids are off to the bathrooms to brush their teeth and washing up for the day. Jaehyun took the initiative in washing the dishes in return for you prepping their meal. While he did that, you walk into the bedroom and start grabbing clothes for the twins to wear to Disneyland as you and Jaehyun promised them. The twins finally returned from the bathroom and waits for your command, visibly thrilled that they will be going to the happiest place on earth.

You got both of them dressed up and that is when your husband returns from his dishwashing duty and he starts getting dressed with you. After getting ready for the day, Jaehyun wraps his arms around your torso again, this time from your front.

He grins to you, “Remember when we were younger, you didn’t want to get married to me?”

You raise an eyebrow to the latter, “What are you talking about? You’ve only proposed to me once and that was on New Year’s.”

He shakes his head, “No, I proposed to you before that.”

“When?”

“Remember when I joked about you borrowing my last name?”

You searched through your memories to clue in on his insinuation but you were hit with a blank. You shake your head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He gives you a narrowed look, “I asked you if I could borrow my grey hoodie at the time.”

“Wait, you were actually proposing to me at the time?” You’re gawking at him, finally remembering the incident he was referring to. While you tend to forget a lot of the conversations you have with him, you could remember every occurrence of him asking to borrow his clothes. Our clothes, you would correct him. Funny how back then in college, you were nowhere close to getting married to him, too afraid of what the future holds. Now here you are, happily married to the love of your life with wonderful twins you’re proud to call your own.

He shrugs his shoulders, “I mean, I was joking, but I wouldn’t mind if you actually said yes back then.” He grins again, “I have been wanting to marry you for quite some time.”

Smiling, you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to give him a soft peck on his lips. There’s a look of tender in his eyes, and you knew yours had the same look too. “Well, I’m all yours now. No more borrows and returns now.” You both rest your foreheads against each other. “Everything is exactly where we want it to be, my love.”

“Can I still borrow my brown cardigan that you stole from me last week?”

“Absolutely not.”

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