#pocket poets series

[hedgehog-moss]

I was talking with a friend the other day about how I was fascinated with American school life when I was a teen because it seemed so different from how things are in my country (I knew about US high schools thanks to Hollywood, an accurate and trustworthy source) and we talked about which aspects of US schools felt foreign or strange to us and one thing I brought up was, how American teens only seemed to have like 15min for lunch (I had 1h30 here in France), as evidenced by the cafeteria scenes (no one seemed to eat a proper four-course meal? I definitely never saw a separate cheese course), and I was like, I envied a lot of stuff about US schools but not this

... and I went looking in my old diaries to see if I ever wrote about this, and you know what? I was wrong. I did envy their school lunches which, like almost everything about US schools, felt intriguing and different and cool. The reason middle school-me thought American school lunches were superior to French ones is because, since American teens in TV shows only seemed to get like 4 chicken nuggets and a milk carton for lunch, their lunch tray was very light and they could hold it with one hand under it, the other hand in their pocket or holding their bag strap on their shoulder all casual-like. Sometimes there was no tray, even!

I envied these American teenagers for their lunchtime nonchalance. I would have liked to handle lunch in this cool-cat way but my French lunch tray being loaded with 4 different heavy and breakable plates, I had to hold it carefully with both hands. In my view this was unfair as the hindrance of governmental nutrition guidelines made French students look like uptight nerds, unable to strut around the cafeteria with one hand in our pocket like we didn’t care. Same for the absence of lockers in our schools, we had to carry all our books on our back all day like studious turtles whilst the beautiful 25 year old American teens on my television casually leant against their lockers chatting with friends then strolled around school with just a couple of books tucked under their arm like they were in Dead Poets Society. Thank god there was an ocean between us, imagine a French kid entering a US school cafeteria carrying 3 binders and 5 textbooks in their big rucksack and holding their tray with two hands like a complete loser

Note that these comparisons are quite worthless since I don't know what US school life / food is like in the real world (I imagine it varies a lot!)—I just find it funny to re-read old diaries and discover what was important to kid-me. Discussing these little cultural differences gleaned from US TV series, adult!me is like "yeah I remember being intrigued & envious about a lot of things! Not their school lunches though, they didn't look balanced and nutritious"—meanwhile middle school-me, focused on what mattered, was like, imagine what we could be... imagine being able to hold your lunch tray with 1 hand instead of 2 thus accessing a realm of coolness unfathomable to us in our backward country

[starlost97]

— distractions.

summary: You always hated when Max got into fights, and because of that, he stopped. However, when you came into question, he just couldn't help it.

tags: fluff, Max Verstappen (almost) fights, Max Verstappen is protective, walk him like a dog vibes, 2018!Max Verstappen, gn!reader.

characters: Max Verstappen.

warnings: almost a fight, lots of swearing, shoving.

a/n: I remember having so much fun writing this one! the prompt was "them hearing someone talking shit about you while you're not near". I didn't write what they said (just wrote that they said something)! also this one's a part of the shortfics series (that I desperately need a name to) as well!

word count: 491.

requested?: yes! by a friend.

Max was known for his temper. At 21 years old he still got into fights, and for some time there was nothing that could stop him.

Then he met you, an incredibly sweet person that — for some reason — fell in love with him almost as hard as he fell in love with you. So now he had a reason to think before doing.

Still, when he heard someone muttering all the things that they would do to you, every piece of self-control that he had broke to pieces.

"What did you just say?” He asked, his voice a bit louder than usual. “Are you fucking deaf? What the fuck did you just say?”

“You are hearing things, Verstappen.” The man said, now a bit more courageous as he stepped closer with his hands in his pockets.

“Why don't you act like the man you pretend to be and own what you just fucking said?” Max said, shoving him hard against the wall.

“What's your fucking problem?” The guy asked, now getting angry.

“My problem?! You are asking me what my problem is.” Max asked, more to himself as he tried to process what he just heard. “I’ll show you exactly what my fucking problem is.” He said, violently grabbing the guy's collar and shoving him against the wall one more time. Max was angry enough to break the man's nose right there, but then, he heard a familiar voice.

“Max!”

In seconds, the guy was on the floor. Max didn't even hesitate to let him go and turn his attention to you, who had your arms crossed and looked at him with a look of disapproval.

“You know I don't like when you get into fights.” You said, making Max smile.

“I'm so sorry, babe. When he started talking shit about you… God, it was stronger than me.” He said, caressing your cheek with his thumb and kissing your forehead. He let his eyes linger around your features for a bit. “How can you be so pretty? I can't comprehend it.”

Someone might say that he was trying to change the subject so he doesn't get in trouble, but truly, everything about you was a distraction factor. Your rosy lips and how kisseable they are, the way your hair looks and feels so soft against his fingers, and your eyes…

God, your eyes.

Max was going crazy, really. One of his favorite things about you — even before you started dating — would be your eyes. And now when they look at him carrying such love…

Max likes to talk about how not even the greatest of the poets could express the feeling that those pretty eyes conveyed him.

“What were we talking about?” He asks, genuinely, as he comes back to reality, making you chuckle.

“Nothing important.” Max smiles at your answer, getting distracted once again by your pretty lips, which he gently kissed, now distracting you too.

[imthebadguyyy]

so high school

pairing : bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x reader

fandom : top gun

synopsis : being in love makes you feel oh so high school!!

series : the tortured poets department

warnings : smut

a/n : loved loved loved writing this!! happy reader

you couldn't quite tell what it was about bradley 'rooster' bradshaw that had you hooked. but something just did. the world of naval aviators was close knit, and you had been friends with phoenix and fanboy for as long as you could remember, even graduating top gun together.

it wasn't until many years later that you received a letter, asking you to go to fightertown san diego for a special mission. thats it. thats all they told you.

so before you knew it, you were cruising down the coast in your bike, hair whipping in the breeze, trying to find the bar phoenix had told you she would be at. you spotted it soon enough, glimmering brightly near the shining sea, and you parked and made your way inside.

it was packed full of other aviators, you spotted phoenix, hangman, coyote, payback and fanboy playing a game of pool and making snarky remarks at each other.

"cherry!" a cheery voice called you, and you offered your best friend your sweetest smile. "hi phoenix! i missed you" you laughed, pulling her into a hug, that she reciprocated, kissing your temple affectionately.

"cherry!" fanboy said, wrestling you into a tight hug to rub your head affectionately as you pretended to be annoyed, swatting at his arm.

"didn't know you were here too hon" phoenix said, offering you a bottle of beer.

"yep, got the call to ride at dawn" you said dramatically, sinking into a chair, shaking your jacket off your shoulders, draping the black leather jacket over the back of the chair.

"well if they're calling in the big guns guess the mission must be important" pheonix teased, affectionately rubbing your shoulder again.

"cherry, meet bob, phoenix's new backseater from leemore" payback said, gesturing to a quiet man with glasses who was eating peanuts in the corner. "hello, I'm bob" he said, smiling at you and shaking your hand. "I'm y/n, cherry" you smiled.

just as you were about turn to greet coyote, the door opened and a man clad in a hawaiian shirt walked in, aviators hiding his eyes, with a slight swagger to his walk as he walked in, sliding his glasses slightly lower down his nose as he greeted phoenix . he had the most perfect looking moustache you had ever seen, and for a split second you wondered how it would feel brushed up against every part of you.

you bit back a giggle as phoenix hit him in the stomach with her pool stick, that instantly had his eyes snapping to your face.

bradley didn't know what hit him as he looked at your face. well, apart from phoenix's poolstick. he felt like all the wind has been sucked from his lungs as he looked at you, drinking in your pretty eyes and curved lips, plush and full, seeing the way your hand was wrapped around a cold bottle of beer. he felt his heartbeat speed up so fast he had to steady himself on his unsteady feet. you looked ethereal.

"and who are you?" he asked, taking his aviators off to tuck them into his pocket as he leaned against nat's shoulder, offering you a smile that had your heart beating way faster than it should have.

"y/n, cherry" you smiled, extending your hand for a handshake. bradley grabbed your hand, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of it that had a warm flushed heat creeping up to your cheek.

"I'm rooster, bradley" he said, sinking into a chair next to yours.

"nice to meet you" you smiled at him, draining the last of your beer. "can I get you another?" he said, already getting ready to stand. "thats okay rooster, I'll go get one myself" you hurried to get up as well, but he just took you by the elbow, leading you to the bar. "please let me. what sort of a gentleman would i be if I didn't buy a pretty girl a drink?" he smirked mischievously and you forced down a smile, hiding it with an eye roll.

"please, nat talks about you and I know for a fact how much of a ladykiller you are" you said, smiling at the woman behind the bar who introduced herself as penny. "put it on my tab, penny my dear!" rooster called and earned a smile from the woman.

"damn, phoenix is destroying my shot before I even had a chance huh? he sighed, only a little resigned. "but I promise, I'm not like that anymore, I'm older and wiser now" he said, looking at you hesitantly. you couldn't help but laugh, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

"I'm just messing with you" you giggled, accepting the cold beer gratefully and clinking your bottle with his.

you found yourself lost in conversation with him, laughing and chattering like long lost friends. you told him all about knowing nat and fanboy, about your hobbies, what got you into aviation. he spoke about his love for music, his love for aviators, and surprisingly, about his dad.

he watched the way your eyes softened, not in the way that people did with pity, but with understanding. and you reached for his hand, giving it a squeeze. "I'm sorry that happened to you bradley" you said, voice as delicate as a feather. "thank you" he said, stroking a hand over your thumb.

"hey,wanna see something cool?" he asked, already leading you over to the piano. "you gonna play a song bradshaw?" you laughed, choosing to lean against the piano as he settled into the seat. you recognised the opening notes of great balls of fire.

bradley's voice was as warm as whiskey, rough around the edges and ragged in a way that took your breath away and made a little something spark in between your thighs.

"kiss me baby!" he sang, throwing you a cheeky wink that had phoenix nudging your side. "that feels good, baby" he smirked, letting his tongue wet his lips as he watched your body twitch a little.

"I'm off to love you like a lover should" he crooned, fingers dancing across the ivory keys as you hummed along.

after he finished, you watched him get swarmed with people, and whooping and cheering for him, before the chants of "rooster! rooster! rooster! rooster!" filled the room and you clapped along before slinking back to the bar.

"hey whered you go?" bradley's warm voice made his way over to you. "just wanted a moment and another beer" you said and he grinned, already passing you a cold one again, letting his fingers brush yours again.

"cmon, let's go on a drive" he said, gently tugging your hand and paying his bill quickly. "thanks for that, by the way" you said, beaming up at him gratefully. "anytime pretty girl" he said, leading you put to where a beautiful Bronco was parked.

"thats a beautiful car" you said, stopping to admire it. "whose is it?" you continued, staring curiously. "it's mine" he said proudly, grinning when you gasped. "it's so pretty!"

"thank you, it's my baby" he said, and you felt your heart flutter. "come, let me show you the sights" he said, getting your car door for you in a way that had you feeling a little ooey gooey on the inside and had you thinking "isn't that sweet?"

and as you drive off into the night, the moon illuminating the sea, you felt oh so high school.

the hard deck was buzzing with energy, music playing in the background as the squad enjoyed a rare night off. you, bradley and the rest of the team were gathered around a large table, laughter and banter filling the air.

"hey, cherry, can you grab me another beer?" bradley asked with a playful grin, his eyes twinkling.

"only if you say please," you teased back, giving him a mock-serious look.

"please," he replied, drawing out the word and giving you an exaggerated puppy-dog look that made you laugh.

as you headed to the bar, nat nudged you with her elbow. "you know, Cherry, you’re not fooling anyone, especially me" she smirked.

you raised an eyebrow, pretending not to understand. "what do you mean?"

phoenix gave you a knowing smile. "come on, it's so obvious you have a crush on Rooster. the way you two flirt, it's like watching a rom-com. and as your best friend, you know I can read you like an open book" she said, leaning across the bar to grab your three beers.

your cheeks flushed a little, but you couldn’t help but smile. "Is it that obvious?"

"To everyone but you two, apparently," phoenix said, chuckling. "just go for it. You two are great together."

meanwhile, back at the table, the boys were giving rooster a similar hard time.

"rooster, man, you are so into cherry," jake "said, shaking his head. "the way you look at her, it's like you're in the notebook or something."

"yeah, dude," bob added. "It's written all over your face. you look like a little kitten with a ball of wool" he said and analogy made the other pilots roar with laughter.

rooster tried to play it cool, but he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. "what can I say? she's special."

as you returned to the table with the beers, you noticed the boys smirking at rooster, who was giving them a playful glare. you handed bradley his beer, your fingers brushing briefly, sending a small thrill through you.

"thanks, cherry," he said, his voice softening a bit, reaching up to pinch your cheek playfully.

"anytime," you replied, your heart fluttering.

phoenix gave you a knowing look, and you felt a rush of warmth. surrounded by friends and filled with a sense of joy and possibility, you knew this was just the beginning of something truly special between you and bradley.

and that feeling made you feel like a high schooler, feeling oh so high school.

training and day to day encounters with bradley became the norm, and he found himself actively seeking you out more and more.

"hey cherry" his voice rang sweetly in your ears as he plonked himself down next to you. "hey rooster" you greeted back, settling comfortably into the chair, waiting for maverick to come and start the training session.

"looks like we're paired up for today's exercise" he said, trying to dim the bright grin that graced his face, drinking in the amused look in yours.

"sure looks like it" you grinned back, laughing when he pumped his fists in the air. "excited much?" you joked, leaning slightly into his shoulder. "oh, very. it's not often i get to fly with a wingwoman as beautiful as you, pretty girl" he cooed, fingers dancing across the loose strand of hair that had fallen out of your bun and tucking it back in.

you felt your breath hitch and your heart speed up like a train, feeling the warmth radiating from his body as he leaned in slightly closer, eyes trained on yours, gleaming in the sunshine. you leaned in as well, torso moving forward as your eyes fluttered ever so slightly. bradley felt his heart hammering, palms sweating slightly as he repeated a mantra of "holy shit this is actually happening" repeatedly in his head.

just as your noses brushed, a sharp voice cut the tension in the room, and you jumped back as if you had been scalded. you felt your body heat up as the grinning faces of hangman and coyote and maverick came into view, making you shoot away from bradley to keep a respectable distance between you two.

"well, well, what do we have here?" hangman’s teasing drawl filled the space, a smirk playing on his lips. phoenix elbowed him in the ribs, rolling her eyes at his lack of tact. "damnit bagman, couldn't you have waited for a second?" nat's voice reached your ears and you tried your hardest not to simply evaporate on the spot.

maverick raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "did we interrupt something?"

coyote chuckled, shaking his head. "looks like we did."

bradley's hand remains on your shoulder, a reassuring touch. you couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and amusement at the situation.

"har har guys, why don't you move it along now cmon" rooster said, dramatically gesturing to the door.

a chorus of laughs and giggles embraced you, with natasha stopping to stoop by your ear and say "never seen you look so captivated cherry" and giving you a playful wink which you returned.

"well...where were we?" bradley said, after ensuring the squad had truly left. "i believe you were about to kiss me?" you said in a hushed whisper, reaching for the zipper of his flight suit, standing up to pull him flush against you.

you let your body sink against the tiny podium mav used to give his motivational speeches, letting bradley's weight sag into you as he leaned closer, and closer and closer...

right until his breath was warm on your face, searching your eyes for the same desperate adoration he felt and he saw it there in full reciprocity.

"god, will you kiss me already?" you whined, tugging him forward by the collar.

bradley turned to you, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and vulnerability. he took a step closer, his gaze locking onto yours. "I've been wanting to tell you something," he said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it.

your heart raced as you nodded, body high on the palpable tension, waiting for him to continue. "ive felt this way for a while now," he confessed, taking your hand in his. "and I can't keep pretending it's not there." he continued, breath in ragged gasps as he inched so much more impossibly closer to you.

before you could respond, he gently cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing over the swell of your cheek. the world seemed to slow down as he leaned in, his eyes never leaving yours. you closed the distance, your lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss, charged with sweet emotion.

the first touch sent a shiver down your spine. it was sweet and slow, as delicate as spun sugar, both of you savoring the moment you had been waiting for. bradley's other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, the other still grasping your cheek.

his lips were warm and inviting, and you lost yourself in the sensation, your arms winding around his neck. his mustache, his oh so perfect mustache brushed against your top lip, in a messy kiss that felt so good you couldn't breathe. his hand crawled up your back to rest in your hair, cradling your head in his hand while yours continued to grip his collar and his chest tightly, tongues now clashing as the kiss grew more heated.

just as bradley let his hand down to squeeze the flesh of your ass, the sound of footsteps and a horrified "oh!" had bradley breaking apart from you, eyes never leaving your heaving form as he glanced over his shoulder to see an extremely flustered bob.

"oh shit rooster, I'm sorry i-" he began, stammering and stuttering as his glasses began to slip down his nose from the nervous perspiration gathering on his nose.

"bob, just leave" he murmured, going back to your lips as he let his mustache brush your lip in a way that had you giggling.

"right! right! I'll leave god rooster I'm sorry-" he continued rooted to the spot, eyes widening at the way bradley's lips trailed to your neck.

"bob?" you called sweetly, ignoring the way rooster smirked against your neck. "yes cherry?" he said, still stuttering.

"as much as I like you, please fuck off and let me makeout with rooster in peace" you said firmly, and he was scurrying out like a mouse.

bradley laughed against the skin of your neck, pressing one last smacking kiss to the juncture between your shoulder and neck, before leaning up to peck your nose.

"darling, let me take you to dinner" he begged, grasping your hand in his own palm.

"when?" you asked, still heaving to take deep breaths of air. "now. today. an hour, god, I'll just go shower and change and I'll come and pick you up and we can go now, today, now" he said, punctuating each word with a soft kiss to your lips.

"okay" you breathed, slowly backing away to just admire the man before you. "pick me up at 7 then" you said, pushing him away with a smirk, before walking towards the door, hips swaying purposefully. "and maybe tonight, you'll get to kiss more of me" you winked, and made your way out.

rooster sunk back into a chair with a groan.

god, you made him feel like a lovestruck teenager, giving him butterflies

it all felt oh so high school to him.

bradley bradshaw had planned the perfect first date, and as the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over Fightertown, you found yourself eagerly anticipating the evening ahead. he had picked you up right on time, his charming smile and easy confidence immediately putting you at ease.

he drove you to a secluded stretch of beach, the sound of the waves creating a serene backdrop as he unloaded a large picnic basket from the trunk. "i thought we'd do something a little different," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "a beach picnic seemed like the perfect idea. you mentioned you've never had one before" he said, a note of shyness in his gaze.

"i love it," you replied, genuinely touched by the thoughtfulness of the gesture.

he spread out a blanket on the soft sand, arranging the picnic essentials with meticulous care. as you sat down, you couldn't help but admire the beautiful scenery—the ocean stretching out endlessly, the sky painted with hues of orange and pink.

bradley handed you a glass of sparkling champagne and raised his own in a toast. "to new beginnings," he said, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat.

"to new beginnings," you echoed, clinking your glass against his.

the evening unfolded with an easy, natural flow. bradley had packed an impressive spread: fresh fruit, gourmet sandwiches, cheese, and even a couple of your favorite snacks, and to your mirth, a whole container of cherry candy. you both talked and laughed, sharing stories and learning more about each other.

at one point, he playfully fed you a strawberry, and you couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "you're really going all out, huh?" you teased.

"only the best for you," he replied with a wink, his tone light but his expression serious.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, the sky turned a deep, velvety blue, and bradley lit a few candles, their gentle flicker adding to the romantic ambiance. you found yourself inching closer to him, the warmth of his presence and the sound of his voice creating a bubble of intimacy that felt both exhilarating and comforting.

he glanced at you, his eyes soft and filled with an emotion that made your breath catch. "you know, I've wanted to do this for a long time," he admitted, his voice low and earnest.

"really?" you asked, feeling a flutter of excitement.

"yeah," he said, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "there's something about you, cherry. from the moment we met, I knew you were special."

your heart swelled with happiness as you looked into his eyes. "i feel the same way, bradley."

he smiled, a slow, genuine smile that lit up his face. "im glad," he said softly.

as the night continued, you sat together, sharing quiet moments and watching the stars appear one by one in the sky. It was the perfect first date, a beautiful beginning to what you both hoped would be a wonderful journey together.

bradley couldn't remember the last time anyone had left him so simply awe struck and feeling like a teenager in love the way that you had. he knew the moment he set eyes on you in the hard deck that you had stolen his heart in every sense of the phrase.

so flash forward to three months after your first date and there you were, pressed up against his body, leaning into his warmth with one of your ankles looped around his own, both your feet propped up on bradley's coffee table. his house had practically become yours, you spent more time there than at your own pathetic little rented apartment.

bradley inhaled the scent of your perfume, bergamot and oak, vanilla and of course cherry. he didn't know how much he loved the scent of cherry till you came into his life like a cherry scented whirlwind.

it was a Saturday night and that meant neither of you had to go into work the next day. he had asked you to come over to his place after a few drinks at the hard deck. he had cracked open a nice bottle of red wine and had ordered in some of the burritos you loved so much, topped of with that spicy salsa you loved.

a bowl of nachos sat between the two of you, and the burritos waited on the table for you two to stop gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.

the classic 'american pie' was playing softly in the background, but neither of you could really pay attention. your fingers traced over his muscled thighs, absent mindedly tracing your initials on the exposed skin, his denim shorts giving you more than enough room to gently trace the skin.

his arm was around your shoulders, gently tracing mindless circles on the exposed skin of your shoulder, and occasionally dropping kisses to the skin as well, letting his tongue dart out to earn a giggle from your pretty lips.

"ya having fun pretty girl?" he asked, brushing a loose strand of his hair back. "mmhmm" you nodded burrowing into his chest in a way that had his heart singing.

"i love how stupidly interesting this movie is" he confessed, and you laughed, affectionately kissing his nose. "i do too, it's the perfect movie to unwind to" you agreed, settling into his chest again as you took a sip of the cabernet he had poured you.

he adored these little moments with you. how he would love to have them with you every damn day. he wanted you to just be with him for ever and ever.

of course, the both of you had forgotten about the iconic scene in which vicky finally...achieved new highs. bradley's eyes went wide as he choked on his wine, watching as the explicit scene played out on tv, feeling your body tense beside him and your breathing quicken as she reached her peak on screen.

he felt red hot arousal course through his body, and the fact that your perfectly plush body was resting against him in a way that was just right was not helping him. his pants were becoming uncomfortably tight around his groin.

he heard you gulp beside him, eyes blown a little wide as your eyes shifted to his face, flushing a little when you saw he was already looking at you.

"sweetheart i hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable?" he asked, stroking your cheek in concern. he missed the way your thighs pressed together, but he did hear the whimper that left your lips.

"oh darling..." he cooed, thumb stroking your cheekbone. "you want me to do that to you pretty girl? want me to eat your pretty pussy?" he asked, smirking when you whimpered again softly, turning so you were both face to face.

"answer me darling " he said, moving the glasses away to pull you flush into his lap. you tried to stifle your sigh of pleasure when his large hands grabbed your hips, settling you snug against him.

"please?" you asked, hands trailing down his muscled chest. "please what, pretty girl?" he asked, hands reaching to the back of your shirt. "please can you eat me out, lieutenant bradshaw?" you cooed, feeling confident as you rolled your hips on his.

"fuck baby girl" he grunted, making quick work of undoing your bra and flinging it off off you, hands going slowly up and down your sides. "I'd love that" he groaned, slowly setting you down flat on the couch and resting one knee between your legs. he dragged your top off, and you hissed when the cold air graced your nipples, hardening them to peaks.

his eager tongue descended upon them, flat of it pressing against the sensitive buds and sucking them between his lips to flick at them in a way that had you gasping and gripping his luscious hair in your hands, chest arching high.

he bucked up into you then, hands holding your hips still as he stiffens against you. "you’re fucking sexy, ya know that?" he said "so. fucking. sexy." he punctuated each word with a flick of his tongue, teeth grazing the nipple and sucking it, letting his saliva coat it before pulling it, making you hiss in pleasure.

although it took him seconds, it felt like an eternity, as bradley travelled down the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach where he stopped, and licked slow circles around your belly button until you shuddered almost continually. his tongue dipped into your belly button and your foot jerks. his mouth travelled lower.

he took a minute to settle down, settling down to his knees in front of the couch, to become eye-level with your clothed cunt, while maintaining a cozy sort of closeness. once again, he gently stroked the waistband of your panties, and, with expert hands, eyed the pale blush pink colour of your underwear.

"i don't know if i tell you often", he moaned into your thigh with squinted eyes. "but you’re the prettiest fucking person ive ever seen" he said, biting the flesh of your hip. "prettiest fucking thing ive ever seen" he repeated, and your heart began to thud at an irregular pace against your chest as you watched the special show.

"tell me you want me baby" he asked, stopping his movements and panting on his knees. he looked like such a fucking angelic mess in that moment, voice raspy, chest heaving and hands gripping the flesh of your hips.

"i need to hear you tell me you want me and need me" he begged, slowly drawing your knees apart.

"please roos, i need you so bad! i want you!" you acquiesced, desperately reaching for his hand, which he immediately linked with your own.

"now, i have only one rule" he murmured pressing another kiss into your skin, this time even lower. he tilted your hips up just a bit higher, so they’re level with his nose; eyes just barely peeking over your mound. he inhaled sharply.

"you have to be as loud as you can or i stop. just please, fuck, please don’t hold back on me" he whispered, stroking your knuckles on the hand in which your fingers were entwined, his cheeks pink in the sparkling lights.

and with your nod, he’s dove in. you felt his tongue slip out, softly licking at your already swollen clit, and you realized this feeling was unlike anything. it was heaven and it's hell, it was sanity and insanity, and you loved it. your chest dipped hard with every aggressive rise, and the more it obscured your view of rooster, the more you adjusted yourself so that way it doesn’t. you wanted to see him.

his mouth wrapped around your clit and he gently sucked at it, his chin grazing your hole as his tongue explored the unfamiliar territory. he moaned out loud in surprise of how fucking sweet and tart you tasted.

"fuck sweet girl, you taste like cherry candy" he grunted, his own hips grinding against the coarse material of the couch.

he continued with his ministrations, pulling soft moans out of you. it was a melody, a harmony. a symphony of low groans and raw moans and desperate whines leaving your lips. each and every noise; every perfectly composed addition giving way to how your pleasure builds. "fu—oh, my god, roos!" you managed to gasp out, remembering his rule, head pressing against fluffy yellow cushion he had given you.

he’d barely touched you. hadn’t even quite moved on from your clit, and yet? you were a fucking mess. your breathing, uneven, your heart erratic. it was a dizzying experience everytime he sucked on your clit.

he alternated, tightening the control on his lips or flattening his tongue, lifting your legs to rest them on his shoulders.

your legs felt heavy against his shoulders, knees buckling from the pleasure. the noises that came from him are pornographic, to say the least. obscene and dirty, muffled by your puffy lips. it was wet, and it sounded like heaven.

"you’re doing great, pretty girl. so fucking good" he growled into your pussy, lapping at your juices.

then suddenly he was mouthing at your cunt, tongue dipping into your aching hole with fervour, trying to learn what made you feel good, what made you jerk, what made you tick. about your reactions. about your ethereal sounds. as much as his brain could take. he made you absolutely melt into putty with his experienced touch.

an unexpected high-pitched moan escaped your swollen mouth, and your breath caught in your throat. "holy shit! rooster! bradley! ah—fuck, just, you’re…right there" your hands clutched the leather between your fingers, and you were pretty sure you had ripped a hole in the velveteen couch.

a familiar warmth was beginning to pool in your tummy, fingers running through his hair in response, scratching at his scalp and pulling his hair roughly.

the veins in his arms began to strain and protrude and you almost came right there on the spot. you yanked on his hair again, and with a loud groan he jerked up into you. a dangerous glint gleaming in his eyes as he shot up to meet yours and he lifted himself off of you. "you’re playing a dangerous game, darling" he whispered, fingers trailing down your thighs.

his tongue swirled along your ribs, the place where you’re most ticklish, and it revealed his new favourite sound in the world - your laugh. over the curve of your breast, covered with hickeys and bites, and then finally right above your heart. where he lived, where he loved and could be loved. his home.

he snuck back down, fingers slipping into you, pressing against your g spot before his tongue began to suck harshly on your clit.

the familiar band of pleasure began to build in your belly and you whined in desperate pleasure. his tongue began to suck on the little pearl harder, and soon you were thrashing above him as the band snapped and you came all over his pretty face.

"thats it darling, nice and slow, come for me" he murmured, licking you through your orgasm. "mm-ah! roos!" you groaned as the sensitivity grew between your legs.

bradley stood up panting, moustache gleaming with your sparkling juices, and his tongue picked out to lick it away, the sight so obscenely perfect.

"you're my new favourite thing to eat in the world, sweet girl" he cooed, pressing his lips to yours in a delicate kiss.

gasping and panting, you kissed his back, gently stroking his hair. "thank you, that was amazing" you breathed, giggling when he sunk into you and the both of you descended into the plush couch.

"don't thank me baby girl, it's a pleasure to give my girl the best head of her life" he said, cracking a grin when you hid your face in his chest.

"god I adore you. i love you" he said, breathing the scent of your perfume again. "I love you too baby" you whispered, kissing his nose.

"c'mon, let's get up and cuddle now" he said, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder. you squealed in laughter as he tickled your side, hanging over his shoulder, playfully swatting his butt as he made his way up the stairs.

this was the kind of romance you'd only read bout in high school.

the hard deck was alive with its usual blend of laughter and lively conversation as you and the squad gathered for another fun night out. the air was filled with the familiar buzz of camaraderie, and everyone was in high spirits. but tonight, there was a special gleam in bradley's eyes that you couldn't quite place.

as the evening progressed, he excused himself and made his way to the old upright piano in the corner of the bar. you watched curiously as he sat down, his fingers lightly grazing the keys, testing the feel of the instrument. the room began to quiet down as people noticed him at the piano, a sense of anticipation building.

he looked up and caught your eye, his expression softening. "this one's for you, cherry," he said, his voice carrying across the room. a few murmurs of surprise and interest rippled through the crowd as he began to play a slow, romantic tune.

the familiar notes of heaven by Bryan Adams began to play.

as the melody filled the bar, you felt a warm blush spread across your cheeks. bradley's playing was beautiful, each note filled with emotion. his eyes never left yours, and it felt like the rest of the room faded away, leaving just the two of you connected by the music.

when he began to sing, his voice was smooth and heartfelt, the lyrics speaking of love and longing. it was clear to everyone that this was a song from the depths of his heart, and the dedication to you made it all the more special.

"and baby, you're all that I want,

when you're lying here in my arms,

im finding it hard to believe,

we're in heaven,

and love is all that i need,

and I found it there in your heart" he crooned softly to you and you felt an overwhelming love settle in your heart for the man at the piano.

the squad couldn't resist teasing. jake leaned over to phoenix and bob, a playful grin on his face. "hearts are breaking in the world tonight," he quipped, eliciting a round of chuckles from the group.

"yeah, looks like rooster's got it bad," phoenix added, giving you a wink.

bob nodded in agreement, smiling warmly. "It's like a scene out of a high school movie."

despite the teasing, there was an underlying sense of genuine happiness from everyone, seeing how much bradley cared for you.

as the song drew to a close, bradley's final notes lingered in the air, and the room erupted into applause. he stood up and walked back to you, his gaze never wavering.

you met him halfway, feeling a rush of emotions. "that was beautiful, baby" you said, your voice soft with gratitude and affection.

he smiled, his eyes shining with sincerity. "I'm glad you liked it, cherry. It was all for you."

as the squad continued to tease and make light-hearted comments, you and bradley shared a look that said it all. in that moment, surrounded by friends and wrapped in the warmth of his music, you both felt like high schoolers in love, caught up in the sweet, innocent magic of the night.

rooster had invited the entire squad over to his place for beers n barbecue, but it was just an excuse to play grand theft auto with the boys. nat and you had just rolled your eyes and decided to play monopoly.

rooster kept glancing over his shoulder towards the two of you, smiling when he saw you laugh, throwing your head back and exposing the skin of your neck to him. he inhaled deeply when you bit your lip, teeth sinking into the flesh in concentration.

he groaned as hangman shoved him in the shoulder to make him lose in the game, and he stood up to head to the kitchen.

"baby you want a beer? nat, what about you?" he asked, walking over to you to drop a kiss to your shoulder.

"please" nat groaned, looking up from the board. "cherry's been kicking my ass at this stupid game for an hour" she said, making you laugh as you picked up the bowl of nachos you had been sharing to refill it.

"I'll be right back babe" you said, taking your empty beer bottles and following rooster to the kitchen.

"you having fun?" he asked, dragging you to him by your belt loops and dropping a kiss to your forehead. "i am! i missed spending time with nix" you said, kissing his cheeks and walking over to check the apple pie you had put in the oven.

rooster bit back a groan as you bent at the waist to check it, and before you knew it he was pulling you in, pressing your front against the counter. his fingers slid to the front of your jeans, slowly zipping them down.

"bradley! what in the world are you doing!" you hissed, hands settling on top of his own. "our friends are literally right there playing GTA!" you exclaimed, gasping when his finger slipped into the band of your cotton panties.

he dipped his finger to your clit, smirking when he felt the wetness on your clit. his fingers began to rub deft circles and your knees buckled, a soft whimper leaving your lips when his lips dropped to your ear to nibble on the shell.

"my my, you're a dirty little girl aren't you? getting fingered in the kitchen while our friends are in the next room?" he purred and your head dropped into his shoulder.

"fuck baby.." you moaned, and he sucked a hickey into your neck.

"god i love seeing you like this" he groaned, fingers speeding up against your clit, thumb settling on it, slipping one finger in at a time, pressing against your spongy walls, taking in the symphony of your moans.

"fuck I'm so close" you whined, pressing harder against his fingers. "cum for me darling, cum all over my fingers" he said and you came undone with a shudering gasp, chest heaving.

"hey cherry I'd like my beer cold please!" pheonix's voice cut the air and you almost jumped out of your skin.

rooster laughed as you heated up against him, pulling the zipper of your jeans back up before leaning back against the counter to lick his fingers, that had you playfully glaring at him.

"hey, bradshaw! you just died in the game man!" hangman's smug voice cut in, and the both of you laughed and pulled away.

"I'll see you again later honey" you said, kissing his cheeks. "love you" he said, nuzzling into your cheek.

"Jesus, get a room!" payback exclaimed as he stepped into the kitchen, looking for more popcorn.

"let them be! they're so cute together!" phoenix said, walking in, with her arms crossed. "cherry, babe. it's been fifteen minutes. are you brewing the beer from scratch?" she joked, walking over to the fridge to pick up the beer herself.

"sorry, she got distracted" rooster grinned and you nudged him in the side. natasha grimaced and payback pretended to gag.

"you're like two horny teenagers" fanboy commented as he walked in too.

"what can I say?" rooster shrugged. "she makes me feel oh so high school" he smiled.

you sighed dreamily, watching bradley's pretty shirt flutter in the sea breeze. he had taken you out to a cute restaurant on the beach, which had outdoor seating and was decorated in quiet finesse.

the ocean's edge had been a charming and elegant beachside restaurant known for its stunning panoramic views of the sea. as the sun had set, casting a golden glow over the water.

the sound of waves gently lapping against the shore had provided a soothing backdrop to the evening, along with the rhythmic hum of the Bryan Adams song playing in the restaurant.

soft candlelight had flickered on your table, illuminating the beautifully set plates and the fresh, exquisite dishes prepared with locally sourced ingredients. the ambiance had been both romantic and serene, perfect for an intimate dinner with rooster, where every detail had been crafted to enhance the dining experience by the sea.

the candlelight danced in his eyes, which were filled with warmth and a hint of mischief. you both leaned in close, sharing quiet laughter and soft, playful touches. your conversation flowed effortlessly, akin to two teenagers in love, filled with lighthearted teasing and genuine curiosity about each other's lives.

rooster's hand occasionally brushed against yours, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine. you found yourselves lost in his eyes, which reflected your own dreams for the future. there was an innocence and purity to your interaction, each smile and glance brimming with affection. the way he looked at you, with unguarded admiration, made you feel like the most important person in the world.

bradley leaned in a little closer, his expression turning slightly more serious but still filled with warmth. "you know," he said his voice soft and earnest, "i've been thinking a lot lately."

"oh? about what?" you asked, a hint of curiosity and amusement in your voice.

"about us," he said, his eyes locking onto yours. "about how much I love spending time with you, how much you mean to me."

your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a warm flush spread through you. "i feel the same way, bradley."

he took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I've been thinking... I don't want us to just have these moments in between missions and busy schedules. I want more of this. More of you."

you felt a flutter of excitement and anticipation. "what are you trying to say?" you asked, excitement and anticipation bubbling in your chest.

he reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "i want you to move in with me," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to wake up next to you every day, to come home to you. I want us to build a life together, not just in moments but every single day."

your eyes welled up with tears of happiness. "bradley, are you serious?"

he nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "I've never been more serious about anything in my life. I love you, and I want us to be together, always."

tears of joy streamed began to well up in your eyes as you squeezed his hand. "I love you too, bradley. yes, I would love to move in with you." you exclaimed and he laughed, tilting your chin to capture your lips in a tender kiss.

"one day," he whispered, kissing you softly, "I'm gonna put a ring on your finger" he promised, eyes boring deep into your own.

you felt your heart hammering again, melting into a puddle of warm, happy goo.

"I'd want nothing more" you whispered back.

you could so get used to this. because being with bradley just felt oh so high school.

a/n : here we go! the first of the tortured poets department project! i hope you enjoy reading it as much I loved writing it!! as always, comments, likes, reblogs, feedback etc is always appreciated!! 🤍 also this is my first top gun work so please!! be kind!!

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general - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird-blog

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST SEND ME AND ASK OR A DM SPECIFYING WHICH FANDOM 🤍

[minhosimthings]

Dances Avec Les Etoiles ft. Heeseung

Synopsis: God how boring is love? For Lee Heeseung, it was perhaps the most boring thing in this rotten world. But for his parents, it meant buisness. And buisness meant getting Heeseung married off to a princess from another kingdom. And when the princess shares a peculiar interest, Heeseung starts to believe in Cupid again.

Pairings: Prince!Heeseung × Princess!fem!reader

Warnings: Brief smut scene in the beginning (not with reader), SMUT MINORS DNI (with reader), fingering, edging, orgasm control, french kissing hehe, dom!Heeseung × kinda dom!reader, mentions of food, sexual tension, hee is kind of a pervert, suggestive at places, fluff, swearing, angst, did I mention sexual tension, enemies to lovers (kind of), arranged marriage, playboi heeseung × playgirl!reader, reader wants adventure and Heeseung is the adventure

A/N: I have been writing and editing this for so long now and it's only part 1! Thank you for being patient with me and I promise to release the second part which has more smut in it very soon! @candewlsy your daddy papi has arrived

Part 1 || Part 2 || The wedding

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

Lee Heeseung was a man of logic.

Which left no room for the poetry in him, although he did say that he enjoyed it a lot.

He was a prince, a ruler soon to ascend the golden throne of Tarnow. Stupid name, he had always thought, it sounded like a wheelbarrow carrying a bunch of tar pieces.

But he had often heard that the poets never allowed someone to go on with their life just like that. What kind of poets would they be if they did that?

And so he had to be betrothed. With a star studded ring on his finger, an imitation of a smile on his face, and a bride by his arm. And a ceremony where there would be flowers, and dancing.

Dancing!

Heeseung had a clandestine love for dancing. The curve of arms and fingers, the movement of hips, the ballet of the feet twirling to create an invisible picture on the ground. And yet, no one knew of this rendezvous of his. Well, almost no one.

"Hyung are you really sure you're alright?" Heeseung's daydream was interrupted by a honey sweet voice from above him. "Get down from the tree, idiot." Another voice, strong as iron reprimanded him.

Sim Jake and Park Jay.

Two of Heeseung's band of best friends.

They had grown up together, due to their parents being close friends, what with the never ending borders they shared between the kingdoms. And he could always count on them to give him advice, whether it be of a bastard's or of a sage's.

"Unless you want to break your arm again, get down from that dumb tree." Jay scolded the brown haired boy, who was, at the moment, hanging upside down from a willow tree, "But you need another reason to visit your best friend don't you loverboy?" Jay added with a cheeky smile.

"As if you have more love in your life" Jake shot back, promptly jumping down from the branches onto the grass with a soft thump.

"Would you two stop bickering and help me out of my current predicament?" Heeseung snapped, letting out a sigh and leaning against the bark of the willow. He had always liked this particular tree. He remembered his mother's hands carefully handling the roots and planting the tiny sapling into the wet mud, talking about how the Duchess' daughter had ran off with some ragamuffin. It was a majestic tree now, like how the poets described the trees of the Gods to be like. He had liked that poem a lot, the one about trees and princesses and first kisses under first snows.

"You're going to get married to a completely random princess, big deal." Jay rolled his eyes, settling comfortably onto the freshly mowed grass. He was often the more mature one out of all of them.

"Where on earth are Sunghoon and Sunoo?" Heeseung questioned, checking his pocket watch. He shook his head, his other two friends didn't exactly know the meaning of being on time.

"Probably kissing themselves." Jake smirked, flicking a leaf at Jay to annoy him, which worked when Jay got up from his sleeping position with a glare smeared on his face and slapped Jake's head.

"Just pretend you have affection towards her and all that and it'll be over in a minute." Jay adviced wisely, looking over at Heeseung's drooping figure. "I wish it was that easy." Heeseung sighed, "I don't want to get married, what if she's snobbery?"

"Hyung don't get poetic." Jay said sternly, moving his head to face Heeseung, "What is even love in these ages? And I am sure she'll be wonderful enough to make you some heirs."

"What's her name again?" Jake questioned, looking at the tree with his tongue stuck out, probably contemplating whether he should climb it again or not, "I hear she's of the far East."

"Princess Y/N of the Kingdom of Witchelm." Heeseung scoffed, "Ooh maybe they have witches!"

"Absolutely not." Jay sighed with a tiring expression.

"Whatever, I'm hoping to pay Priscilla a visit today." Heeseung pushed his hair out of his face.

"Does she love you yet?" Jake ashed with a cheeky grin.

"God I hope not." Heeseung shuddered, "She's just got a good mouth and a nice pussy for me to take. See you later boys."

"Fuck I needed this." Heeseung sighed laying back. The girl looked up at him as she placed her hand onto his cock, her other hand resting on his thigh. She licked the underside of it slowly back up, circling her tongue around the head.

"Fuck has your mouth gotten prettier since last time?" Heeseung chuckled, looking at the girl.

"Shut up and let me do my work." She responded, "You know this is the last time right?"

Heeseung scoffed and placed his hands on her head. "I know."

The girl took the head into her mouth, causing him to jolt. He patted her head which soon turned into him gripping her hair when she went back down again, now bobbing her head up and down. Making sure she reached all the way to the base, Heeseung helped by pushing Priscilla down further.

“Keep doing that thats a good girl” he stuttered out. The hand that was on his thigh reached down to massage his balls, lightly squeezing.

Would his new bride be good at giving him what he wants? Heeseung didn't know anything about her. Nor did he care really. She's probably the regular Mary Jane, a dull lifeless, smiling body, without balance in anything. He wished and prayed fervently that some sort of ballerina took her place instead.

Maybe that'd finally make him happy.

The reflection of Heeseung's mirror stared back at him, not noticing the utter beauty of his eyes. He never cared much for his handsome features, much preferring when people complemented how light he was on his feet.

But it was shameful for his parents.

Dancing? For a crown Prince? Preposterous!

It would have been outrageous if the kingdom found out that their prince preferred dancing over decrees. It wasn't that his mother and father didn't encourage his dancing, they loved seeing their son do what he loved. But to be a prince, a ruler, was to keep a reputation, and that couldn't be spoilt by something their son loved doing.

Heeseung sighed, taking a deep breath and counting his steps, every slow movement bringing him his happiness back inch by inch. Would his bride like dancing?, he wondered, that would be a pleasant thing. Atleast one thing in common with her.

His thoughts wandered carelessly as his feet did, sliding across the floor effortlessly, a gentle sway of the arm here and there, the ballet of a sawn without his mate.

He would be betrothed by tomorrow.

A fateful tomorrow, he hoped.

"And now we introduce, Princess Y/N of the Witchelm Kingdom!"

The man had a ridiculously nasally voice in Heeseung's opinion. Maybe they should replace him with someone who doesn't sound much like a parrot.

"Heeseung stand up straight." Heeseung's mother snapped at him from his right shoulder. Silently grumbling, he obeyed and adjusted his drooping figure along with the drowsy expression on his face. He would have rather ate a carrot than do this right now. The sound of bells and trumpets and what not, and all the ridiculously maroon stained curtains irritated him far too much. The sun was broiling hot, and there was not even an inch of a cloud in the sky. And his nose was rather itchy as well. Perhaps he should ask Jake for that rum again...

"Welcome to Tarnow, Princess." His father's formal voice broke Heeseung out of his train of thoughts, and as he snapped back to his senses, he realised the presence of a figure standing before him. Not caring to lift his eyes to look at the figure, he quickly bowed.

"How was the journey, my dear?" His mother asked in a saccharine sweet voice. She only ever used them with babies, Jay and extra important guests.

"Well the carriage certainly did not like the hefty rocks, but it was pleasant." Heeseung thought he had heard an angel speak for a moment, "Your kingdom is magnificent, Your Majesties." The figure in front of Heeseung curtsied, and that's when he caught a whiff of her perfume.

It was intoxicating, as if it was pulling his closer.

His eyes flickered up, to take a peek at the woman. She was clad in deep shades of maroon with gold trimmings illuminating her figure perfectly. Was this his bride to be?

"Prince Heeseung." You threw a curtsy to him, noticing the way his fawn like eyes were staring at you. Maybe the rumours were right. All the princes of Paradoxica were scoundrels who lounged after women.

"Princess Y/N." Heeseung finally bowed back, and you took note of the fact that his eyes stayed to the ground, not lingering over your figure as most usually did. Maybe he did have a tinge of respect in him.

"Well why wait here in this heat? Shall we lunch inside?" The Queen said in a joviant manner, extending her hand to you, which you took gratefully and stepped inside the castle walls, finally feeling at peace.

You were completely unaware of the pair of deer eyes following you.

Heeseung's first thought upon seeing you was the way you wore yourself. He had often learnt that the best of dancers always moved differently, which was always evident whenever he'd attend balls. The truest dancers would always walk as if they owned the very earth they walked on. Heeseung always felt that they had clouds for shoes.

And the way you walked, the way you held your shoulders, the way you each step echoed with the sound of the air, there was no way you couldn't have been a dancer like him.

But you were a princess, he reminded himself, his soon to be Queen. Dancing was to be put to the side for some time.

Or so he thought.

The luncheon had went quite well in your opinion. Apart from the fact that the King and Queen would not stop talking about the proposal ceremony and the wedding, and their son smirking into his peas whenever his parents came upon the topic of grandchildren, it had gone by in a breeze.

You were happy that Heeseung hadn't talked to you. You were far too tired to have any 'getting to know each other' conversations. He seemed a bit monotonous to you, at first glance atleast. You had always learnt never to judge a book by it's cover. But sometimes advice was made to be ignored, so you simply went on with your day, not caring about what kind of a person Heeseung was.

The rumours were enough for you to summarise his persona anyway. The people of Witchelm talked about him as if he was a splendid rose, one everyone wanted to take a look at. Kind, courageous, handsome, generous, blah blah blah. You would rather have married a fish if it was described as more interesting than him. Although the rumour that he really 'got around' in terms of pleasure had interested you. If that had been true, maybe you did like him. Atleast he would be understanding to the fact that had lied to everyone that you were still a virgin.

Tarnow had been a luxuriant kingdom, known to everyone as the first kingdom formed in all of Paradoxica, the oldest one, it spoke quite well through the aching castle walls when you were exploring the southern wing.

It was in a word, beautiful, with the fading architecture and all the women clad in luxurious silver, dancing their hearts out on the street. How you wished ever so fervently that you could join them.

Dancing was your life ever since you took your first steps. Witchelm was renowned for dancing, for ballet, ballroom and everything in between. It was a pity that you hadn't heard anything about the hobbies of the Prince. Perhaps he preferred dancing too. That would be a pleasant surprise, you thought, as you stepped into your chambers, where all your luggage had been arranged neatly.

"I think I can take over from now on." You curtsied to the girl who had led you over to the chambers. She bowed back and was about to leave when you thought to ask her the question that had been lingering in your mind for long.

"Is there a ballroom here?" The girl turned back abruptly at your question. She had hair as dark as coal and eyes even darker. A pretty sight.

"Oh yes, your Highness." She smiled at you, "We have the biggest ballroom in all of Paradoxica in fact. Most of the King's balls and state dances are held here."

"Then, there must be a place where they practice their dances is there not?"

The girl chuckled at your question and clicked her feet together.

"There is a humongous room in the western part of the castle that's basically empty space for dancing. But the Crown Prince spends most of his time there at night, so we aren't allowed to go there much. I can show you the way if you want."

"The western wing." You sat on the bed with a soft thump, "I can find my route don't worry. Thank you for everything."

The crown prince and dancing..... Peculiar. Very peculiar, you thought as you lay on the bed. You were thankful for finally getting out of the heavy purple gown, and putting on some actually comfortable robes. Although you had begged your mother to let you wear your favourite lavender shades, your mother has refused and put you in the darkest and most sweltering maroon gown. It was safe to say that you were a panting dog by the time you got out of the gown.

Picking up your quill and paper, you smoothed out the creases as you thought about what to write to your best friend back home. Gaeul was the kind of person to find out everything about someone before loving them, no matter what methods she used, so it wouldn't be a problem if you wrote 'i think the Prince likes dancing because a girl told me an extremely insignificant detail' in the letter to be sent to her.

Dipping your quill into the ink pot, you were about to start your letter when-

Knock knock knock

The door tapped thrice. It was safe to say that you were confused. Lunch was just five hours ago and it wasn't even dinner time yet, the sun hadn't set even though the sky had turned a deep purple.

Donning a clock over your robes, you stepped out of the comfortable silks of the bed and strode over to the magnificent, carved door. Tugging on the handle, the door made a creaking noise at it opened, making you cringe at the sound. You caught a figure lingering at the door. The same girl was there, the one who had led you here earlier today.

"Oh hello there." You said, opening the door to its full length, "What is the matter?"

The girl shuffled her feet before your eyes fell on her hands. A tiny black box.

"Someone left this in my chambers with a note attached to it your Highness." She said, "It gave the instruction to give it to you."

You looked at the box with uncertainty before snapping your eyes up to the girl. You took the box from her, your finger gently brushing against hers.

"What is your name?" You questioned, realising that you hadn't asked for it before. "Giselle, Your Highness." She answered, still looking at the ground.

"Thank you Giselle. You may go now." You shot her a smile which she returned meekly and scampered off.

Closing the door behind you, you eyed the box with uncertainty. What if it was some poison which wafted into the air as soon as you opened it? What if there was a lizard inside? You really did hate those dumb creatures. Thousands of thoughts flooded your mind as you looked at the box. You were reminded of your father's words to stop reading so many books with plots of bloodshed and mystery. As if you'd ever stop.

Caressing the box with your hand, you noticed how fine of a quality it had, it couldn't have been sent by any ordinary person. You lifted the lid of the box with hesitation running through your veins, only to find inside......a necklace?

A dainty pearl necklace lay inside the box, along with a tiny note, which you did not notice at first. You were far too captivated by the shimmering necklace. Pearls were a rare occurence in Witchelm, with it being a landlocked kingdom. But Tarnow, you had heard, had a vast coastline, so pearls were easily found.

You pondered upon who it could have been sent by. A secret admirer perhaps? The thought did excite you. But who on earth would send a box like this in these times?

As your thoughts ran wild through a forest again, your hand slightly tilted the box, and the note fell out. You bent down to pick it up and immediately took note of the fact that it was paper which was used for royal decrees. A secret admirer from the ministry?

Unfortunately your mind was disappointed as you ran your eyes through the note.

Wear it for me princess. Love, Heeseung.

Of course. A secret admirer, what were you even thinking? No one would have the courage to give the princess of a foreign country, a pearl necklace.

Rolling your eyes, you settled the box and the necklace into a drawer and put the tiny note into a separate one. The prince had a handsome signature, far better than your scribbles anyway.

The western wing had never seemed like a more interesting place

"I hope you find the chambers a comfortable place my dear?" The Queen's voice rang in your ear. God the atmosphere of the dining table made your hands sweaty.

The little conversations you had with the King and Queen weren't enough conversation for you. It was too.....formal, to regal. You wanted fun, but you knew you wouldn't get that. Not until tonight atleast.

Your plan to sneak out into the western wing was extremely flawed but you had not a care in the world. So what if there would be hundreds of people standing guard? You were quick on your feet, a dancer's gift.

You had silently observed Heeseung throughout the dining session. He seemed quiet, all the talkative ones do at first glance. You noticed the way his foot tapped away every now and then without a care and his fingers drummed his fork in hand. You hadn't a single idea if it was on purpose or not. You had read in the book Gaeul once loaned you that artists, like painters or dancers, can never keep their body still. They always have to be doing something with their hands or feet. So either Heeseung was secretly a painter, or he was a dancer. The former seemed to have more possibilities but it could always be the latter considering Giselle's words about the western wing.

Only one way to find out.

Your skin was filled with goosebumps as you walked down the chilly corridor. You were greatly surprised that there weren't many guards, perhaps Tarnow cared less about security.

You shouldn't doing this, this is dangerous, said a voice in your mind, but did you ever listen to it? No, no you did not.

The western wing was easy to locate, what with the huge painting of a woman pointing her finger towards a large corridor, with the words "Western wing" engraved onto the painting. It was darker than the other parts of the castle, maybe it was a secret wing shut off to everyone else except the Prince. There weren't many doors here either, which caused you to let out a sigh of relief. The dancing room would be easier to find.

And it indeed was, as you now stood in front of a huge oak door, the only one for miles on end. You hoped fervently that it wouldn't creak like the door to your chambers. And to your relief, it thankfully didn't, and the spectacle inside made you let out a gasp.

The prince.

So he wasn't a painter after all.

He was a dancer!

A plain show of beauty, you thought, the Prince was. He looked ordinary at first glance, but now, as your eyes trailed his moving figure, his feet gracefully gliding across the floor, hitting each moment to the melodies of the song he was humming, you'd have thought it was Apollo's incarnate himself. You were mesmerized by him, by his every movement, he was gentler than a swan with his fingers, his robe moving in sync as if he had been commanding it.

My my, he looked like a groom in need of a bride, you thought. You didn't know whether it was past midnight yet, even as the clock struck itself and made a loud noise, you were too distracted by the dancing prince. You would have loved to watch him for a bit more, if not for-

CREAK!

Stupid door!

Heeseung's head whipped around to the door as his humming and dancing stopped abruptly. "Who's there?" He cried, clutching his hand to his sword belt, "Come out!"

There was only one idea in your mind at that moment.

Run.

You hoped fervently the next day that the bags under your eyes would be put off by everyone as exhaustion from the long journey. You hoped that no one thought "Oh the princess obviously must have sneaked out to the dance room and ogled the prince!" Although the possibility of that happening was very low.

You slyly avoided the Queen's questions about your sleep by asking her about when the royal potrait of the groom and bride to be would be painted. And she responded with much happiness that it was to be this afternoon!

This afternoon. With the prince. Wasn't that a joy?

Your schedule was much packed that day, which was disappointing since you had wanted to sneak out to see the main ballroom which Giselle had informed you was in the Northern wing. First, you had to get into your gown for the portrait, which would easily take the entire afternoon. Then the actual portrait session would arrive and God knows how much time a simple layer of paint will take to dry.

"Do you paint my darling?" The Queen asked. "Yes." You answered, knowing damn well you couldn't draw a line if you wanted to. Well a lie in a lie is a truth wasn't it?

Afternoon arrived and so did the sweat drops on your forehead. Damn this gown, you thought as you dragged the heavy on the floor. You decided the first thing you'd do after becoming Queen is ban whatever material this is.

Approaching the door where the Queen had directed you to, you took the handle in hand and tapped it thrice to let whoever was inside know that you had arrived. "Come in." A familiar princely voice answered.

Oh great.

"My Lord." You sunk into a curtsey, not letting your eyes meet Heeseung's. Had he always been this tall and handsome or were you dreaming?

"Heeseung, princess, call me Heeseung." He wore pride quite well in his cunning smirk, you thought, as you looked at him quintessentially.

"Then you may call me by my name as well." You replied, glancing behind him to see an easel propped up, "Where is the painter?"

"Oh him? He's always late." Heeseung leaned back against the table behind him, "So princess, enjoying the palace's attractions?"

"Stop calling me that." You said, rolling your eyes out of annoyance, "And if the attraction is you, then no I'm not." He made the word seem like an enchanting melody, the handsome bastard.

"Would you prefer darling?" He smirked, pushing the stray strands of hair out of his face again. He looked like a siren, pulling you into an ocean you wanted to escape from, but didn't know how.

"Say, my darling," he leaned forward, looking at you with darkened eyes, "You're still a virgin aren't you?"

"Why, do you want to corrupt me?" You scoffed, settling yourself down on the loveseat, "Well bad luck, I'm not."

Heeseung looked taken aback for a moment, his eyes widened and he blinked a few times, but he composed himself quickly.

"Ah we have a little liar do we?" He chuckled lowly, his eyes still looking you up and down, "So you're a bad girl aren't you?"

"I don't care Lee." You crossed your arms, "This is just a marriage for politics, there's no way in hell you are going to magically make me fall in love with you, like in the books."

"You read romance?" Heeseung cocked his head to the side, "Well there's a thing we have in common."

The door to the room burst open before you could get another retort out and you breathed a sigh of relief as the painter rushed in with his assistants and started running about arranging everything.

You were even more thankful when you had to sit down for the portrait, far away from Heeseung. Although a weird pose, you supposed the painter would magically make something out of it.

Heeseung was more interesting that you had previously thought. Atleast he didn't treat you with the insufferable respect most princes did. He was....cocky, rude, daring. A rather sweet taste on your tongue.

Oh how you couldn't wait to sneak out to the west wing again.

You remembered to bring a shawl this time, draping it around your shoulders so that the cold, carved rock of the palace wouldn't let your skin break. You cursed yourself for almost knocking over a piece of what looked like driftwood sitting atop a table, willing aways it's time. The kingdom of Tarnow really had its unusual traditions.

The conversation you had with Heeseung today ran in your mind over and over again and again. You liked the taste of him, the way he stood, the way he held himself. And the way he spoke. You were going to have to come up with new retorts everyday. Well that's more interesting than suffering a life of 'i love you' or 'i will die for you'.

But for now, peering at him through the slightly ajar door was more than enough. Oh how he danced, the movements he made, an astral ballet in the air. He looked at peace, that cocky and confident demeanor was no more, it was replaced, instead by calm and cool. Your eyes tried not to linger to his waist and arms, how his shirt pressed tightly against his muscles. The sinful thought of having a touch of them echoed through your mind. The curve of his body fascinated you, oh he looked as pretty as an angel. Perhaps there is more to Heeseung than you thought.

"She's interesting, too Interesting." Heeseung drawled, as he chewed on his quill tip. To his right sat Park Sunghoon, another crown prince, who had inherited his kingdom without marriage and without everything Heeseung despised. At the moment, he was the only one who could provide Heeseung some comfort.

"Interesting as in she didn't fawn over you or interesting as in she's no a virgin?"

"Both." Heeseung answered leaning back in his chair, "And she's such a mystery, god I want to know more about her."

"There is a thing called conversation you know." A third voice called from across the room. A red haired man was sitting atop the table, casually willing away at grapes.

Kim Sunoo. The youngest crown prince.

"Oh really?" Heeseung smirked, "I though conversation wasn't mandatory or what was it you said last time Sunoo? 'Conversation is only for the loveless?'."

"You know who I meant it for." Sunoo rolled his eyes and hopped off the table promptly, "Anyway the Princess of Witchelm seemed a lovely character. I had a brief incursion with her out in the garden, and she's.....interesting."

"That's what hyung said too." Sunghoon popped a grape in his mouth from the table, clenching his face at the sour taste, "Just run up to her and you know, ask her what she likes."

"Great advice, Sunghoon."

"As if you can do better."

The gardens of Tarnow were a place you reveled in. The freshly mown grass, the sweet scent of daffodils, and the sight of bees almost everywhere elated you. And most importantly, the willow tree.

The grandiose tree reminded you of someone who knew what they were worth, like a Queen who knows exactly what she wants. That's who you wanted to be. A Queen who rebelled, headstrong like your mother always told you to be. And you would fill the streets with dance, music and laughter. Maybe even prompt Heeseung to show off his moves....

"And to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Death would have been more pleasurable than to endure Heeseung right now, as his voice disrupted your peace and quiet.

"You owe your hand in marriage apparently." You stared straight at him, not daring to break eye contact, which was hard considering how menacing Heeseung's stare was.

"Admiring the willow eh princess?" Heeseung plopped down next to you, landing on the grass with a soft thump, "You know, I planted this when I was an adorable child."

"Adorable?" You scoffed, "More like a fiend." Heeseung chuckled at your statement, turning his head to look out towards the landscape.

"I planted most of the trees in this garden." He said, staring ahead with unwavering affection in his eyes at all the greenery, "They've grown a lot since then, my mother says that planting them at a young age allows them to grow with you." The love in his tone made you want to coo at him, but you composed yourself, remembering what kind of a person he was.

"Was that too cheesey?" Heeseung smiled, turning his eyes to yours. "Just a little." You responded, not having the heart to break the moment.

The silence that followed was a dire one, but it was peaceful. Heeseung and you sat in it as if you were fluent, letting the breeze whip your hair about, and the grass seep into your veins. You were so immersed in the butterfly landing on the daffodil that you didn't even notice the leaves sticking to your hair.

"Your hair looks like a bird's nest right now, princess." You heard Heeseung laugh as you turned your head towards him. "Excuse me?" You said, pulling your hand up to stroke your hair, being horrified when you pulled pieces of leaves sticking to it.

"Oh for fuck's sake." You mumbled under your breath, "Ah damn this, I'm going back to the chambers. Good day, Heeseung."

"With a nest in your hair?" Heeseung raised a cocky brow, "Princess, be logical. No one is going to respect a future Queen who looks like she's walked out of a jungle." Heeseung's words were mean but true, "You know I can just remove them, if you ask kindly with that pretty mouth of yours."

You had never wanted to slam his head into a wall more than now. But your reputation also mattered. You were torn between the two choices; Heeseung or risking your reputation?

"Fine." You sat back down on the ground, "Take them out."

"Nicer, princess. Add a pretty please too."

Oh he was on thin ice. You rolled your eyes and grumbled, "Could you please take these leaves out of my hair? Pretty please?"

The scent of Heeseung's neck pressed to your nose as he leaned over to remove the leaves carefully. He touched your hair rather gently, as if you were a fragile doll, which surprised you. Your hand kept lingering at his stomach, holding itself back from touching his muscles.

"There." Heeseung leant back, "All pretty princess again." "Thanks." You muttered, making your way to get up.

"Uh uh uh princess, we aren't done yet." Heeseung pulled you back down, making you snatch your hand away from him, "I want to strike a deal with you."

That night as you watched Heeseung dance gracefully on the stone floor, you wondered how this was the same person you had met in the morning. The same person who had made you a wretched deal, now danced under soft candlelight, unaware of his future bride watching him through clandestine corners.

"Meet me in my chambers tomorrow, and I'll think about not spilling to everyone, your little 'pureness' secret."

Fuck the world. That was your first thought as you woke up the next day, got dressed, had breakfast, had a conversation with the Queen, and made your way down to Heeseung's chambers.

For what purpose must this have been done? For what purpose did you have to be betrothed to a man like him?

"Fine day, isn't it princess?" Heeseung smirked at you from behind his desk. Papers and scrolls were strewn all over the desk, along with ink pots and a couple of what seemed to be drying paintings. A few more were hung up on the wall.

"Is this why your mother asked me if I paint?" You traced your finger over a dried painting of a daffodil. Still life, boring as it may be, still caught your eye. Heeseung smiled to himself.

"She asks everyone that, thinks her grandchildren will be some sort of prodigies." "Grandchildren?" You looked up from the painting to Heeseung's smug face, "We aren't even close to friends and she wants grandchildren?"

"Rule of Law princess, there's an entire book about it." Heeseung leaned back, spreading his legs a bit further, god that shirt stuck to his muscles well.

"What am I doing here anyway?" You scoffed, sitting back on the chair facing him, "You want me to do your assignments or something?"

"Assignments, actually." Before you could blink a huge stack of papers lay in front of you, all stamped with decrees, "And in return you'll get some get sex and your secret not being spilt."

"Good sex?" You laughed haughty, "I highly doubt that. Especially from you."

"You think I can't fuck you better than your lovers?" Heeseung raised a brow at you, leaning back against his desk. "No I don't think so." You simply replied, reaching out a hand to get one of the decrees, but it was caught by Heeseung and before you could even flinch, he had you pressed against the desk.

"Want to test that theory?"

Your retort stuck in your throat when you engaged in a searing kiss and your lips met aimlessly—a real mess of tongues and teeth. Heeseung licked a strip across your teeth and thrust his tongue deeper, exploring the inside of your mouth like a sacred temple with only one chance to visit. Heeseung opened his mouth and gasped, lingering with a few more short, honeyed kisses between his panting breaths and your muffled moans. You scolded yourself for even getting a sound out of yourself at Heeseung's touch.

Heeseung's hand moved up your thigh, and you pressed your mouth to his throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

"That's not the ideal place to leave a mark princess." Heeseung glared at you, to which you merely shrugged your shoulders. So what if Heeseung had a few hickeys on display to the kingdom?

Heeseung's hand travels upto your back, easily removing the dainty dress you had on. You silently thanked Giselle for giving you a dress instead of a gown today.

“is this what you wanted?” you slid your panties to the side, as Heeseung was about to reach further down your slide. He wouldn't have admitted it but he almost drooled at the sight of you. Taking a second to admire you, his voice echoes through your body, “I wonder how many others can have you like this.”

"Not many." You keep your eyes on him, "none of them fuck me as well as I want them to."

You lean forward a bit, making sure he gets a fantastic view of your cleavage. You decide to push the boundaries a bit further, your voice dropping to a sultry tone, fingers playfully tracing the edge of your bra's strap.

Heeseung's exhales a shaky breath, "you're playing with fire, y'know that?" His voice is low, it only spurs the warning and longing lingering inside you.

The world narrows down to the heat of his touch, the electrifying sensation of his fingers on your skin. You feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring your own anticipation. Heeseung's eyes, lock onto yours, a silent agreement passing between you.

Your nails scrape against his scalp and you squeak in shock as Heeseung's hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against you. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful and it’s all you want to hear for the rest of your life. You can’t stop the urge building up inside you, you’re not even certain you can stop moving your hips even if you wanted to.

His fingers catch the waistband of your bottoms. Heeseung traces your clit over the fabric feeling the warm, wet patch you’re leaving in them and then he teasingly slips a finger underneath, swiping two fingers along your slit, thumb, and index finger opening your pussy to his gaze. He presses a finger inside of you, slowly stretching out your tight hole. You groan, and his eyes roll back at the way your walls stretch around him. You rock harder against him, fucking yourself into his finger and wrapping your arms around his neck again. you just want to feel him against you.

"Fuck you're a tight one." Heeseung smirks into the crook of your neck, taking in your delicious scent, "Is this good enough for you princess?"

His half-lidded eyes look up at you as you contort on top of him, feeling overstimulated, with a single finger. He coos, his other hand sweeping over the back of your head sweetly, pushing back stray sweaty hairs. He nudges your nose with his, hand on the back of your neck, and tries to meet your eye. The squelch as his finger fucks into you, fast and deep, is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

You can feel the tightening of your stomach, your intestines begging for air as your mind wants nothing more but to break free. The sweet edge of release feels better than ever with Heeseung than anyone else you've ever done this with. Fuck was he good. Just as you felt his finger sweep across your cunt one more time, and hot liquid come upto your cervix-

"Heeseung!" You gasped, feeling the painful feeling of having him pull his finger away from you. His smirking face added the fuel to the fire of your anger, as he slowly bent away from you, collapsing onto a chair and spreading his legs far. God did you want yourself propped on that thigh.

"I already told you princess." Heeseung's smug voice infuriated you, "Sex as a reward remember? And you haven't done anything so no reward. Simple logic."

"fuck you" "When princess?"

You were thankful Heeseung didn't make you work all night, you had time to admire his dancing again. He seemed so different when he was alone, so much more gentler, and it only made you hate him more. Why all the cocky behaviour when he was surrounded by people? You liked this softer side of him. You wished that he would get the courage to show that side to the world. Maybe in due time as all things come.

The rest of the days went the same. Rise and shine in the morning, greet Giselle as she gave you your bath, breakfast and burrowings, rush off to Heeseung in his chambers, do your 'assigments' whilst glaring at Heeseung, who glared back, get the desk a bit messier than it had been, and then sneak off to the western wing at late night to watch Heeseung. It was a bit redundant, but you liked this. Maybe it was the fact that Heeseung was someone who made you cum properly (although you wouldn't admit it) or maybe it was the fact that, from the past few days, he had started opening up to your more.

Ignoring the fact that your time with each other consisted of making angry retorts, you noticed that now, you knew more about Heeseung than before. His friends, family, ancient history, his hobbies everything, from A to Z was in your memory now. And you had to admit that you liked knowing more about him.

His sunlit eyes everyday as they silently perked up at the sight of you, the way his mouth dropped to give you the daily retort along with a tiny compliment too, the way his smirks now turned into smiles, and the way he leant nonchalantly against the great willow, when you'd go out into the garden for a little rest. Was this the love the poets described?

"Good news princess." Heeseung strode into his chambers as you stretched your neck from sitting in the chair all day completing a decree, "We're having a ball."

Collapsing on his bed with a thump, Heeseung groaned as he stretched out his aching limbs. Jay really did always do a number on him in practice.

"A ball?" You questioned, rising from your seat, walking over to the bed and climbing on, "For us?" Heeseung looked at you and nodded. "It's supposed to be a pre-pre-pre wedding ball, according to mother dearest."

"Will there be dancing?" You asked excitedly. You hadn't danced in so long that your feet longed to be in some tap shoes and a big flowy gown again.

"Yep, and guess what?" Heeseung smiled at you, "We're going to dance together."

"Oh I am an amazing dancer." You bragged, raising your chin high, "So it's fine if I outshine you right?"

"Please, I am much better at dancing." Heeseung sat up, facing you, "It's fine princess, they'll notice you at the wedding if they don't at the ball."

"Dance for me then." You gave him a cheeky smile. Would he agree? This is what you had been wanting for a long time. "No." Heeseung merely said, checking his bitten nails.

"Are you that horrible of a dancer?" You chuckled. But before you had time to laugh more, a fluffy pillow landed straight on your face with force. Heeseung's smile had never been wider.

"Don't do that you bastard!" You cried, picking up a pillow and hitting his shoulder with it to which he laughed raucously. "Or what?" He laughed again, hitting you with the pillow repeatedly. Stray feathers let loose from the pillows but you had not a care in the world as Heeseung chased you around the room with the pillow clutched in his hand. This had been the most fun you've had in ages.

Young love? So refreshing for a narrator isn't it?

You looked stunning. Your reflection, clad in soft hues of your favourite colour stared back at you, as your eyes ran up and down your body, hugged tightly by the fabric.

The ball had came sooner than you had anticipated, maybe it was the fact that you were so excited for it.

You'd be dancing your heart out tonight. With Heeseung. How you had longed to match his movements for so long, and now you finally had the chance.

"How do I look?" You meekly asked Giselle, who looked like a jewel in her own gown. "Like a true Queen, my lady." She giggled, dipping into a tiny curtsy.

"Shall we move then?"

Heeseung hadn't been too excited about the ball. He had seen too many of them to be entertained by any. And plus, there wasn't a proper lady to dance with either. Where were you? His thoughts, which were running aloof, came to a halt as his eyes landed on someone descending from the staircase.

Was that....you?

Indeed it was, as he blinked his eyes a few times to get into his mind the fact that you, his bride to be, were walking down from the staircase, looking like someone he's always loved for centuries. That, he did, but of course he wouldn't tell you that. Your snarky remarks from time to time, the way you smiled at his retorts and the way you remained a complete mystery to him, no matter how much he found out about you. Love, love, love, was what Jay had told him.

"My lord." You dipped into a curtsey in front of Heeseung. God he smelled exactly like the willow, enchanting and sweetly poisoning. You tried your hardest to avert your eyes from the tightly hugging fabric around his arms and his belt too. You fervently wanted your hands to be tied to it.

"You look pretty, princess." Heeseung winked at you, wrapping an arm at your waist, but not before giving you a look of access, "May we?" He motioned towards the dance floor, where a few women and men had their arms wrapped around each other lovingly. Would Heeseung and you ever be like this, you thought, as he led you over to the marble floor. You would have liked that, you'd have liked that a lot.

You could feel the eyes on you as Heeseung took your hands to his lips and pressed a small peck there. "Ignore them." He smiled up at you, "Time to show off your dancing, princess."

Gulping down the breath you've had in for a long time, you gasped in silence as one of Heeseung's arms pressed against your waist in a position for your waltz. You took your breath in accordance with Heeseung as the violins whipped their bows and the grandiose music began.

Dance was often described as the art of the soul, you'd never seen a living example of it, until now, as your entire body and mind moved in synchronisation with Heeseung. It felt as if dancing on a cloud you've longed to be on, when you were swaying with him. His grip on yours, his eyes tracing yours, and his demeanor being the one of the swan you had spied on in the western wing, it enchanted you, pulled you in to the whirlpool of Heeseung himself. You could have stayed like this forever, swaying in a gown with Heeseung at your start.

Heeseung was intoxicated as well, it was sweet venom lacing his veins, as the clandestine rendezvous of your movements got him to the highest of highs, one that even the most addicted couldn't have reached.

"Enjoying the view?" You cocked a brow at him, noticing the way he was staring at you. You were thankful that a lot of other people had joined the dance and you weren't the only ones dancing now.

"Funny, I was about to ask the same thing." He smirked at you, his eyes tilting down to your cleavage.

"You've seen more than just my cleavage and it's still driving you crazy isn't it?" You raised your chin, "Pathetic, Heeseung."

"Pathetic is it princess?" Heeseung's voice dropped to a low, as he leant over to your ear, his breath hitting your cold skin, whispering words that made your breath drop.

"More pathetic than the western wing?"

To be continued.....

Taglist: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @yunabi436 @kvmariii @sacrificeatmeup send an ask to be tagged

[makingqueerhistory]

Beyond the Gender Binary

Alok Vaid-Menon

In Beyond the Gender Binary, poet, artist, and LGBTQIA+ rights advocate Alok Vaid-Menon deconstructs, demystifies, and reimagines the gender binary. Pocket Change Collective is a series of small books with big ideas from today's leading activists and artists. In this installment, Beyond the Gender Binary, Alok Vaid-Menon challenges the world to see gender not in black and white, but in full color. Taking from their own experiences as a gender-nonconforming artist, they show us that gender is a malleable and creative form of expression. The only limit is your imagination.

(Affiliate link above)

[hwanchaesong]

┗🖋️In between fights and smoke / Daydream collides with a poison cloak / Putting nightmares into a tight choke / Fixing it with a lust-filled stroke 📖

🎧: Taylor Swift - I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

wc: 2.4k

genre & warnings: angst, sprinkle of fluff, smut, stoner!hee, petnames, weeds & alcohol, kind of like toxic rs, cursing, appearance of other enha members, cunnilingus (f receiving), fingering, slight nipple play, creampie (?), unprotected sex, etc etc mdni

a/n: this is a part of The Tortured Poets Department series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

The device shook on your palms, the icy night breeze seeping in your skin, truly, you should've worn a thicker jacket instead of some flimsy cardigan on your way here.

But who could blame you?

Getting a cryptic message out of nowhere, more so if it's about your oh so, loving boyfriend, would make you bolt out of your house even during the ungodly hour of 2:37 am.

You read the text again, and you couldn't help the scowl in your face.

"Get your boy."

You've always wanted to receive the magical three words. Not the vomit-inducing one.

Sighing, you tucked your phone inside your pocket, proceeding to walk into the spacious rustic porch of the eerily quiet house.

No knocks were needed, the owner of the residence opening the door once you're in front, motioning for you to come in.

You did and the first thing that you could think of is the unusual atmosphere of the building. Most of the time, the blaring music and glaring lights would repulse you, but there were none of those today.

Did the party end early?

Before you could ask where he is, the male with you answered your unspoken question.. or questions at that.

"No rave for tonight because we decided on another festivity, down in the basement." he says, giving you a weak smile as he shoves his hands down in his pockets.

"Thank you, Jay." you returned the smile, which he wasn't able to see for he's already heading into his kitchen.

You then sauntered at the said place where you could find the person that you have personally come to pick up.

Entering the area almost made you want to go to the hospital. The smell was revolting, a mixture of burning fronds, sweat, ashes of joints and alcohol invaded your senses and it was nauseating.

You stood there for a minute, scanning the realm of awfulness until your eyes landed on the guy that was supposed to be in bed with you. Cuddling you and whispering sweet nothings to make you sleep but here he is, giggling like a child, blowing out a puff of smoke that paints his lungs black.

"Heeseung." you called, paying no mind to the other inhabitants of the spacious basement, footsteps nearing closer in his figure that was slumped on a sorry ass sofa, "Let's get you home."

His eyes snapped open, craning his neck to peer at you, recognition flashed and his expression lighted up. He threw you a wide grin, patting his lap as an invitation for you to take.

"There's my baby! Look, everyone! My baby is here!" he mused, pointing at you, and for a second you'll dare say that he looks nothing but an angel.

Big bright eyes, squinting just a tiny bit with how wide his grin is. Vermillion tresses frame his cheeks so well, pink pouty lips, and an adorable scrunched up nose.

An innocent one. Your innocent one.

Except you know who, what, and how he is. But you're not one to back down from a challenge. The moment you decide to date him, to let him in your life, you know that you're in for a disastrous ride.

"Really, Y/N? Him?"

"I thought you were wise and smart."

"I wish you luck, dear."

You shook the echoing voices in your head, opting to focus on the current dilemma at hand.

"Hee, let's go. Yeah?" you murmured softly when you're in front of him, attempting to get him out of this hell hole with you.

He whines, pulling you into him out of the blue, that made you yelp, gripping his shirt to steady yourself in his lap.

He dips his face on the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet, vanilla scent, a stark contrast of the environment he's in for the past few hours.

"My baby smells like cake, delicious." he hums, his hands going over your waist, and you tried your best to get him off you in a lenient manner.

"Go get a room." his friends, Jake and Sunghoon, who are also in the room fake gagged, and Heeseung didn't take that well.

He takes you with him when the annoyance shoots over his veins, hauling you with him and out of the house but not without yelling a playful yet condescending statement.

"At least I'm not like you losers! I actually have a girl that gets my dick wet!"

You kept your mouth shut, the scolding will come later but for now, it's your turn to do the dragging, ushering him into your car so you can finally drive away from here.

Arriving at your own home felt like breathing fresh air, well, the groans of your boyfriend brought you back to reality.

"Lee Heeseung!" you shout in anger, and despite being in a dopamine-incited state, he still has half a mind to be alert when you used his full government name.

"Woah, baby? Why?" he's struggling but manages to come over to you, his hands moving to wrap you in his arms.

You dodged the affection he was about to give, choosing to throw him daggers through your eyes, "Why? Why?!" you shout in pure exasperation.

"You can't just say that! I am not your toy that will 'make your dick wet!' That was so disrespectful!" you imitated his words from earlier with a mocking tone, jabbing at his chest harshly, "I don't deserve that."

His eyes soften, cupping your face and his thumbs caress your cheeks, smoothing your wrinkled features, "Of course you don't. I'm so sorry baby, I was joking with them."

"That wasn't a good joke, Hee. That hurt me." you utter, leaning into his warm touch.

How you hated it when you're this weak for him, then again, this is what you swore to protect and reveal to everyone who judged him early.

They don't know that his calloused hands from all the fighting he did can bring such velvety skinship.

They have no idea that his vulgar way of speaking can actually be so honeyed and gooey if he wants to.

They don't know him like you do. So, it is your mission to show them that a wild man can be tamed.

"I'm sorry, baby," he lifts your face, allowing you to look into his apologetic caramel orbs, "let me make it up to you, hm?"

You stare and nod, because if you're going to be honest, there's no getting out of this.

He presses his lips onto yours in a searing, messy kiss, tilting his head to further deepen it. Your hands cling to his hair, tousling it the more the make-out session gets hotter.

His hand squeezed your left breast over your clothes, causing you to moan and he took that as an opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, licking every corner that he can reach.

Your tongue clashed with his, not for dominance, but for the sole purpose of riling each other up. He moans when you suck on his tongue, unexpected surprise but he loved it nonetheless.

He returned the favor with much zeal, disconnecting from you and the string of saliva broke when he dipped his head to smooch all over your neck. Trailing open, wet mouthed kisses down your clavicle, then biting on your collarbone and sucking on the damage, leaving a purple patch on its spot.

He slowly raises his head, his pointy nose scraping on your mastoid until he reaches your ear, his hands grabbing your ass to bring your lower area to his, making you feel his hard member poking on his jeans.

"Am I doing a great job of making it up to you?" he inquires, like a puppy in need of some validation.

"I think," using your palms to lift his head, giving him an eskimo kiss, "you have to do more."

He smiles, hoisting you in his strong arms and easily manhandling you into the comforts of your shared bedroom, hurling you onto the mattress with matching pecks on your face and lips.

"Guess I'll have to do my best." he murmurs against your lips before all hell breaks loose, clothes tossed everywhere until you're both stark naked.

You gripped his hair tightly when his mouth snaked on your chest, popping a nipple and sucking on it while his left hand played with your other mound, pinching and tugging on it. His right hand slithered down your stomach, passing by your navel until it reached your core.

A gasp was heard from you when he dipped a finger in your wetness, swirling the juices around your labia and his index finger played with your clit in an up and down motion.

He lightly nibbles on your nipple before switching to the other one, giving it the same treatment as he continues his actions on your pussy.

So many sensations all at once and it had you twitching and drenching under him. He's always been good at having you at his mercy when it comes to things like this.

His ministrations came to a halt when you moaned his name. No, he won't let you come if it's not in his mouth.

Heeseung positioned himself in between your thighs, his fingers digging into your plush flesh and spreading your thighs wider, his face so close to your heat but you don't have the time to be embarrassed when he sticks and flattens his tongue out on your pussy.

He licks away your juices, humming in delight with your taste. He's not a man of patience, evident in how he inserts two of his fingers inside, curling it in a relentless pace and it hits the spongy spot perfectly.

"H-hee! Ah!" you mewled, his name is the only thing in your mind. He's so fucking good, your good boy. It shows when he frowns, concentrating on giving you the fitting pleasure to make up for his mistake.

He sucked on your clit harshly, alternating to licking it with his hardened tongue while his digits worked you to oblivion. Soon enough, you've come undone, releasing in his mouth which he graciously received, slurping you clean, only stopping when you have to physically push him away due to overstimulation.

You were breathing heavily, then you steeled yourself when you felt the tip of his manhood poke your hole. Half lidded eyes staring at him, giving him the signal that he can go on and ruin you into his liking.

"bab- fuck! Feel so good." Heeseung groaned when he entered you in one go, your walls clenching around him. When he feels your hips move, he begins to slam into you, docile at first then he hears you beg for more.

How could he even say no to his precious baby?

His hips rams harder and faster, it makes your whole body shake. Every drag of his length accompanies a squelching sound with how wet you are but you couldn't care less, it's the result of what he's making you feel.

Even in your rapture drunken stupor, you can still feel the vein on the side of his cock, sliding so exquisitely inside.

With his large hands supporting your hips, he lifts one of your legs on his shoulder, a completely different position but it allows him to plow deeper into you. Pushing his cock further until it kisses your weak spot, a rather melodious moan erupting from you and that was enough for Heeseung to know that he had hit the jackpot.

He continues fucking into you, your wetness spreading on his balls, thighs and sheets yet it turns him on so much.

He gazes down at you, and my god, a scene worthy of jacking off when he's not with you has been engraved in his brain. You are so fucking divine under him.

Eyes almost rolling in the back of your head, tiny hands grabbing the pillows for dear life, and drool running down your chin. Sensual and messy are everything he had always wanted.

He lurches down to give you a kiss, swallowing your saliva and moans, he detaches and speaks, "I fucking love you."

"I-I Hees-" you tried to return his sentiment, but a coherent sentence isn't available at the moment due to your hazy mind, courtesy of the excellent fucking you're currently receiving.

Heeseung thrusts are becoming erratic, desperate and he knows he won't last long.

"Come on baby, cum with me, yeah?" he mumbles, "Don't hold back." he orders, every word punctuated with a powerful thrust.

You opened your mouth in a silent moan, gushing on his pulsating dick and your tight walls were sufficient for him to release his seed inside, milking him dry.

He pulls out, some of his cum smearing on your womanhood, and he collapses beside you.

Aftercare can be done later, too tired for that, but never for a cuddle. He pulls you close to his heaving body, both of you catching your breath.

"I really am sorry for what I said a while ago." he mutters, rubbing consoling circles on your flushed skin.

"Do you promise not to do it again?" you gazed at him, looking for any signs of deceiving when he agreed without any hesitation, but the only thing that you see is his ethereal halo made out of his hair.

"Hee.. please don't destroy yourself." you flopped back into his sturdy chest, tracing lines on his muscles.

"Of course baby. If I did that then I won't be with you anymore. We can't have that happening."

He chuckles and you do too.

Surely, you don't need any prayers from those people who act like they care about you. They don't have to go out of their way to make their god bless you, because you are already graced with the greatest blessing.

People will judge either way if you tell them that he's your boyfriend. But none of that matters because you have already decided that he is yours, and you are his.

The next time, or should you say, for the future times where you sit inside the bar where he works at, wearing the sexiest dress you could muster that he'll inevitably rip off of you later, you can simply shrug the comments of the nosy dumbasses.

Watching him sing his heart out while playing the electric guitar, you know that he is a force to be reckoned with but he loves you, and you believe that you're the one thing he needs in this cruel world to change.. to improve.

You'll fasten his seatbelt when his journey is turbulent, anchor him when he floats too high, and you will cement him here on earth if he flies away too much.

You will do everything for him, for Lee Heeseung is your heavenly man.

taglist:

@ramenoil @shakalakaboomboo

[mistress-violence]

Prompt: Sunflowers from @into-the-jeggyverse (September 5)

Word count: 483 words

Pairing: Jegulus (modern highschool AU)

⚠️ Warnings: none

Every week since the start of the new semester, James found a bouquet of sunflowers and a poem all around school. The first time was in his locker after the football practice. The second time was before English class, on his usual chair. The third time was in the library, while he was studying. He went to the bathroom for 5 minutes and when he came back, the flowers were there.

Every time they are exactly four sunflowers in the bouquet and a poem written on a piece of black paper with gold ink. The secret poet calls James "the sunflower boy": "the sunflower boy with golden stars in his eyes"; "the sunflower boy with that glowing moon smile"; "the sunflower boy with the summer kissed face".

At first, James believed that it was one of those groupie girls in school. After the second poem, he knew it wasn't just a random person. The secret poet was somebody who watched James for a long time. After the third one, James really started to think who can be this mysterious person. They are very good at writing, because the poems were wonderful. They are also very subtle and they can go somewhere without being noticed. Last, they are probably too shy or too scared to confess directly.

James couldn't stop thinking about this for days. Especially in English class, he was to absorbed in his own thoughts. He was so happy when the bell rang that he almost hit someone on his way out.

"Ah, I'm so sorry!" James apologized.

"Be careful, Potter, we're not on the football field."

Regulus' voice was deep and very sharp. He looked really annoyed and James wanted to apologize again when he saw something.

"Is that a poetry book?" James asked, winning a death glare from Regulus.

"Yes, Potter, it is in fact a poetry book. Some of us read for pleasure, not just for homework. You can try sometimes, maybe you can start with the "Good Manners" and learn not to bump into people".

Without any more mean comments, Regulus looked at his pocket watch and then walked away. For a second, James saw the celestial ornaments engraved on the case and the star pendant. He followed the younger boy with his eyes until Regulus got lost in a sea of students.

"Prongs, are you ok?" Sirius asked, appearing from nowhere.

"Yeah, Pads, I'm fine." James paused for a few second before asking out of the blue. "Your family is obsessed with astrology, am I right?"

"Kinda, it's more of a tradition to be named after constellations and stars, but we have some books at home".

"How many stars are in the Regulus constellation?"

"I think four, but why? It's about my brother, did he do something to you?".

Four... James paused for more seconds, before shaking his head in disbelief.

"No... He didn't do anything bad..."

Off fic note: The sunflower boy was born, I actually like it so much I will probably write more with this. I think I want to transform this in a series, a oneshot or even a bigger fanfiction.

[namusthetic]

The Writers' Series

Who wrote you, based on your aesthetic?

British Edition

---------🖋️

Oscar Wilde

"You can never be overdressed or overeducated."

Irregular sleep schedule

Sprawling on a sofa quoting poets long gone

The forbidden sweetness of guilty pleasures

The gently whispered name of a lover

Losing oneself to sensations and feelings

Writes poems for their lovers

Dressing up only for the pleasure of doing so

That dizzy feeling of late night adventures

Procrastination and unsent letters

An old silver framed broken mirror and forgotten withered roses

Sitting alone late at night. The thick, stuffy air in the room is making you dizzy and dulls your senses

Virginia Woolf

"How many times have people used a pen or a paintbrush because they couldn't pull the trigger?"

The soft first autumn breeze

Spending winter afternoons in hidden library corners

Taking long walks along the riverbank in the early afternoon

Gives good advice but doesn't follow it

Scented candles and gentle nostalgia

The furious, quiet calmness of the ocean before a storm

Orange blossoms and sea salt

The texture of paper under your fingertips and the sound of chirping from outside the window

Wants to change the world one word at a time

Never forgives, never forgets

Reads poems in the golden afternoon light

Romantic but won't talk about their feelings

William Shakespeare

"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves."

Wine stains on victorian shirts

The sound of footsteps on marble floors

Scribbling random Latin sentences in other people's notebooks

Dark, alluring, and a little bit occult

Writes poems on random scraps of paper and then forgets about them

The line between dreams and reality starting to blur

Loud, contagious laugh

Sword fights back stage

A lone flickering candle in the night

Laughs and cries at the same time when overwhelmed with emotion

Believes in the power of the unsettling and the forbidden

Sprawls on any available surface just to read tragedies and drink wine

Mary Shelley

"When I looked around, I saw and heard of none like me. Was I then a monster?"

The sound of your heart beating in your ears when waking up from a nightmare

Anatomy and science illustrations

Equations and formulas scribbled everywhere

The touch of cold metal on warm skin

The clap of thunder and insistent drumming of heavy rain on the windowpanes

The muffled sound of cracking thunder from outside

Organized shelves and absentminded humming

Cold gravity and solemn silences

The cold shudder of realisation

Pacing back and forth trying to solve grave problems and unexpected results

Empathizes easily

Agatha Christie

"Poirot," I said. "I have been thinking."

"An admirable exercise my friend. Continue it."

Hot chocolate on cold winter days while people watching inside an old Café

Sitting down in parks and reading the paper

The scent of clean laundry

Windswept hair and sharp looks

Spontaneous conversations and smiling at strangers

Could prove anyone wrong solely for their own amusement

Wet pavements glinting in the sunshine after a rain shower

Apricot jam, fresh baked croissants and café au lait while reading the newspaper in the early morning

A glint in their eyes and a spring in their step

Peppermints and vanilla hand cream

Sarcasm and condescending smiles

J.R.R. Tolkien

"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

Early morning dew sparkling on spiderwebs

The awareness and clarity that comes with crisp morning air

Daisies, gingerbread and warm comfy clothes

Really into folklore

Snail shells and acorns kept in a jacket's pocket

The scent of fresh homemade bread in the morning

The gentle murmur of the wind blowing through the trees

Nothing could make them miss their afternoon tea

Knows the name of every plant or bird species

Presses flowers in their notebooks

That spark for adventure glims constantly in their eyes

George Orwell

"But if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought."

The smell of cigarettes and the sound of steps on the wet pavement

Long night walks around the city

The cold winter wind howling against the windows

Cheap black coffee drank in a small almost empty 24/7 coffee shop

Tired eyes and vivid dreams of liberty

Messy, rushed writing

The condensation on a cold window

Minimalist notebooks and black ballpoint pens hidden everywhere

Trying desperately to be free, to feel alive

The deafening silence of loneliness and the gentle quiet of solitude

T. S. Eliot

"For I have known them all already, known them all / Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, / I have measured out my life with coffee spoons."

Coffee and ink stains

Tiny scribbled notebooks carried around in worn out messenger bags

Reads to escape the real world

Reading on public transportation and almost missing the stop

Falls in love five times a day

Strong coffee and dark chocolate

Feels like nobody can truly understand them

Doesn't take care of themselves

Stacks their books randomly around their house, forgetting empty coffee mugs and notepads on top of them

Flopping facedown on the bed and listening to the sounds of the life out the window

[two-white-butterflies]

i did one thing right | ja. velaryon

Description: A man who loves writing, never writes about you. In which, you ask him why you're never the muse of his works.

Genre: Social Media AU

Pairing: jacaerys velaryon/actress!reader

There wasn't anything in this god green earth that your husband wouldn't provide. With his large inheritance and successful writing career - you didn't need to work for at least a century - but still, you insisted on acting and moving all around the world. There was one thing that money couldn't buy; personal artistry.

And gods, were you and your husband artistic.

He was an author - the writer of the second most popular fantasy trilogy, and a poet - however he refuses to write about you. He was an expert in his field, someone that everyone respects.

And you were a local actress - one that only accepted films in your country and/or small films with reasonable scripts. This particular film that you acted on was - different. It had a beautiful script, paired with an award-winning director - however you weren't confident of your acting, hence the sweat that was building in your palms.

Andy Ronan, Carolina's troubled lover.

"How does it feel to make your acting debut?" the interviewer asked rudely, blissfully unaware of the fact that you've been the star of dozens of award winning series. Of course, they wouldn't care unless the damn film was in their mother tongue. "It's an honor to act alongside this wonderful cast - and to act out a brilliant script. Argentina is a wonderful film and it touches sensitive topics pretty well. Cate is an amazing co-star too." you complimented.

"Well, you're in the red-carpet beside your husband - and netizens say that he's part of your success. Is it true that he paid for your audition?" the man interrogated, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes. "That couldn't be more wrong," you scoff - feeling your PR manager pull you towards the other side of the room.

Why does everyone assume that Jace is the sole reason for your success?

You gently knocked on his door - phone inside your pocket. "Jace, you busy?" you inquired - peeking through the small gap in his wooden entryway. "Nope, just finished." he rose from his seat, taking small steps towards you before wrapping you in his warm embrace.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," you mumbled while settling down on his leather sofa. The both of you always emphasized communication in the relationship - and thus, hiding nothing would do more harm than good. "What is it?" his eyebrows merged into each other - settling beside you.

"Why do you never write about me?" you inquired and a sigh escapes his mouth. "I write about you all the time, but I keep it in my head." he informs, fiddling with the rings on his finger. "Why?" you ask again.

"If I make you one poem, then I love you. But if I make a dozen poems, that means that I love writing poems." he recited a phrase that he saw inside a random book. He wanted to immortalize you in his scriptures - but words were too shallow to explain what you were.

He could write about your beauty - but words were too cheap to explain it. He could write about your personality - but it wouldn't be clear enough to understand. He loved you - and he didn't believe that he was skilled enough to explain it.

"And I love you very much." he whispered.

[lizziespoem]

love's first kiss ❊ kento nanami ͏⸺ mini series. pt I // next chapter

⸺ to sit in silence and love, what miserable glimpse of insanity lingering behind those burning hearts with the spectacular sensation swinging between rationality and flimsiness, to study the philosophy of autonomic neuropathy and beliving in the weekly shuffled tarot cards, to not understand the thought behind a simple piece of art and yet searching in between the lines, to pretend there was a quite whisper everytime the leaves twisted into another world.

there were dozens of mysteries, creations of cunning heads, answers to unspoken secrets and still there seemed to be no end. was it foolish to believe?

maybe all of this was just a thief of time, another dream ready to die, but even if it all kept quite there was this unhinged feeling that you were meant to find someone, to find the possession of your memories through the thick stardust, to follow the echoing pulse, it seems so easy to dream of true hopeless love.

it seemed so easy to create this idea of the secret hunt to find this one guise.

maddening hunger and nervous breakdowns, gravity laws and angel numbers, newspaper articles and blissful fairytales, seas of souls and stories to find, different eyes see different things and nevertheless nanami and you were meant to dream each others dreams, to become the next beautiful written and composed masterpiece of a poet, to be remembered and captured.

there the lonely man was, stumbling across those dark avenues with his hands in his pockets, his blonde hair rumpled and tousled by the cold air that kept kissing his lightly colored cheeks as his eyes studied the gloomy night sky, wishing upon a star and there were you, in between here and there, almost made by the moon with your illuminating features, astonishing as a piece of art and the answers to nanamis helpless prayers, the keeper of the suns flame. your eyes lingered on the starry night, wishing upon a star.

everything and opposite, perhaps it was meant to reach the immorality.

the sparking stars twitched, frowning your brows, almost as if they knew a secret to tell with a mischievous smile, but before nanami or you could ask, you’re meant to finish your eternal hunt. around midnight, beneath the mystic moon you’ve meet, the two comets collide with a dull crack in the lack of time, without being ready to find those answers to all of your questions.

the man placed his arms over the rusty railing while his gaze still tried to capture the silent of the night, only a couple inches away from him were you, sitting on the old mossy bench studying the illumating outlines of the dreamy man, and for the first time you didn’t longed to look up and admire the stars.

The blonde man could have sworn he was never desperate for love, yet he couldn’t hide his tiny smile everytime he saw an old couple together walking down the streets.

"it’s beautiful isn’t it?" you say calmly, not knowing where any of the confidence is coming up of you, yet you drew the attention of the man, causing his eyes to catch a glimpse over you in the shadows.

for a moment it seemed like he wasn’t entirely there, between here and there, tendering where he want to be, a natural form of chaos and nanami couldn’t remember who he was before he meet you, couldn’t understand if this moment was a dream or a memory, still it was too good to be true.

"almost too good to be true" nanami's word stumbled across his silver tongue as he studied your movement and those little wrinkles around your lips as soon as the corners lifted up a bit, because of his words.

A little almost fainted smile appears on your glossy lips as your eyes traveled back up onto the shimmering moon, making your throat tense but yet you seemed so careless and free as one of the sparkling stars and while you admired the dashingly moon, all that nanami could see was the magical star right next to him.

"a dreamer, aren’t you?" the man studied every of your delightful movements as the air floated around you, almost as if your were able to split every molecule.

"out of your mouth it sounds like something bad" you chuckled as you tilded your head lightly to the side, looking through your dark curled lashes as your voice sounded gentle almost caring, while your mind created entire romances in your head.

The tall man shook his head as he shifted his body towards you, leaning with his back against the railing "I would never say such a foolish thing"

"well I would never be ashamed of admitting that I am a dreamer" you said calmly as you studied the facial structure of the man "I rather be a dreamer that a person that live and has no story to tell"

Smirks lingered on the both of your lips and there it was, something only the moon and his children could see, something more, something more the both of you could feel inside of your hearts yet no one said, captivating beautiful and the world got quite for a brief second.

A charming grin crosses the lips of Nanami as his jaw tensed and with his hand he rubbed against his neck "but how could you live and have no story to tell?"

"fyodor dostoyevsky" you said without looking away from him and god it was so dangerous to get lost inside your eyes and still to tempting for Nanami as small wrinkles appeared right next to his smile "cunning, I see"

sometimes the eyes can say more than the mouth, and the way your eyes stole all of nanamis words away said it all, he was terrified of waking up and realizing that you were only a dream.

"are you a dreamer?" you asked him as your hair floated in the air like cotton floss and you pulled your coat closer to your body to keep your body warm, while nanami seems to think for a second before answering "I would call myself an accident prone adventurer"

A soft laugh escaped your mouth and a light reddish tone filling up your cheeks as you moved your hand to cover your mouth, causing Nanami to chuckle raucous "you should hide such a pretty laugh"

Innocent lovers of this night with hammering hearts, wearing thick layers of clothes too hide from the freezing cold winter air and the distance turns into their worst fear. An unconditional coincidence leading the two of you collide and yet no one seemed to separate you, no more whispers, hardly any breath and no hidden fees, just two children of the moon and the sun, two meteor’s ready to finally meet.

"tell me what do you dream of" he said curious as he watched you silently, not seeing any fears or any curses around you, it was only you, a strange sight for him.

Your eyebrows frowned as you tilted your head a bit "my dreams?"

"a thing that’s constantly rushing through your head" nanami said calmly as he still studied you, normally it was easy for him to read people, but looking at you was like looking at the galaxies, knowing that there was so much more he would never be able to understand.

You shake your head as you looked down at your hands but the voice of the man makes your gaze met his "common I’m a stranger, I won’t judge"

Stolen glances melting those silhouettes under the silvery stars, blending them together while the moonlight embraced the needed familiarity, mesmerized and terrified just by one simple sight and with each glance you both got suddenly weaker, mouths getting numb and unable to speak, your souls sinking in deeper.

"I dream of being capable to understand" your voice was weak, as your dreamy eyes directed to the shimmering stars, afraid of the man to judge you and yet not afraid enough to speak again "there is so much more than eyes will ever meet and I crave to understand how we can love so radically"

"I admire the way you dream" the blonde man smirks as he catches the glimpse in your eyes "to dream looks pretty on you"

He catches you as your take a curios look on the up lighting screen of you phone after a small sigh left your mouth and you secretly cursed your best friend for needing you right now at this moment, causing the steam dancing up into the air as you carefully got up onto your feet’s, trying not to slip over the slippery icy spots on the floor.

"I must go now, but i really enjoyed talking to you.." you apologized yourself and before nanami could even say anything back you left.

Afraid that even a name could probably ruin this moment you decided to leave, to leave without any hints or clues, wanting to stay a stranger in this thoughts, wanting to keep this intimate moment as dreamy as it was.

© 2023 LIZZIESPOEM. please do not copy any of my writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

tags; @ponderingmoonlight

[garadinervi]

Diane di Prima, (1968, 1971), Revolutionary Letter #15, in Revolutionary Letters, The Pocket Poets Series #27, City Lights Books, San Francisco, CA, 1974, p. 26

[sweetestofchaos]

TOTW CH 12

𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝗈𝗍𝟩 𝗑 𝗈𝖼!𝗁𝗒𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀: 𝖳𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾/𝖺𝗎: 𝖥𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖠𝖴, 𝖧𝗒𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖽 𝖠𝖴, 𝖭𝗈𝗇-𝖨𝖽𝗈𝗅 𝖠𝖴 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: 𝖨𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖱𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗌, 𝖢𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖪𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖲𝗁𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖥𝗅𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖬𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖡𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖠𝗅𝗉𝖺𝖼𝖺!𝖲𝖾𝗈𝗄𝗃𝗂𝗇, 𝖯𝗂𝖾𝖽-𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖲𝗁𝗂𝖾𝗅𝖽 𝖳𝖺𝗂𝗅 𝖲𝗇𝖺𝗄𝖾!𝖸𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖭𝖺𝗆𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖧𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗄, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖩𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗇, 𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇!𝖳𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀, 𝖪𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗈!𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄, 𝖰𝗎𝗈𝗅𝗅!𝖮𝖢, (𝖬𝖬𝖠 𝟤𝟢𝟣𝟫 𝖭𝖺𝗆𝗃𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖮𝗎𝗍𝖿𝗂𝗍!!) 𝗐𝖼: 4.3𝖪

"Nobody has ever measured, even poets, how much a heart can hold." – Zelda Fitzgerald

a/n: i just really want to say thank you for waiting and sticking around. i know that updates have been slow and i'm just really thankful that you're still here! Also, this is doesn't have a beta...so yeah. Taglist is still open, as well as character asks!

a/n 2: small spoiler but Yoongi does shift in this chapter, so if you aren't that great with snakes...sorry (it's closer to the end)

taglist: @vvh0adie @quirkybtsarmy @itwillbealways-d

series masterlist 🌻character profiles 

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One thing Namjoon hates more than anything is conflicting schedules. He always double checks his calendar to make sure that he is never double booked and always available if the pack needs him. The same can not be said for the rest of his company and that is how Namjoon finds himself in this situation. He is the lead translator for the American singer Usher and also has to fill in for another translator who is out of work due to a sudden illness. Anyone could have filled in but Namjoon’s manager recommended Namjoon, forgetting all about Usher.

Now, Namjoon is the acting translator for Usher and a Korean Idol group that has recently debuted. There is little to no downtime and Namjoon worries about Imani. Thankfully, the rest of the pack sends Namjoon photos and videos to help ease that worry. Working long hours and not coming home to the pack hurts but not seeing Imani’s smiling face or hearing her little voice is breaking Namjoon’s heart.

While at a press event with Usher, Namjoon introduces the singer to many people and they joke around with each other. Namjoon feels his phone buzz in his pocket and sighs internally. He would love to answer the phone call but he can’t, he will have to call his family back. 

“Hey, man. Can we head outside? It’s getting hot in here.” Usher says and Namjoon nods his head. He leads the popstar to the balcony and stands off to the side while Usher takes a moment to himself. The chime of FaceTime breaks the quiet of the night and Namjoon winces. “You can answer that man. Do what you gotta do.”

Namjoon bows his head and thanks him before he pulls his phone from his pocket and answers the FaceTime. The screen is dark before it brightens and Imani’s tearful face is the first thing Namjoon sees.

“Imani? Baby what’s wrong?” Namjoon tries to keep the panic from his voice since he is within hearing distance from Usher.

“Joonie not here! Yoonie wants night night time and you not here!”

“Baby, Joonie is sorry. I’m at work and won’t be home tonight.”

“Miss you!” Imani wails and Namjoon winces.

“I know. I miss you too but I’ll be home in the morning, okay? We can watch Bluey when you wake up.”

Imani wipes at her snotty nose and her ears press close to her head when a door opens in the background.

“Imani!”

“No!” Imani cries and tries to run with the phone in her hands but whoever comes into the room lifts her into their arms.

“I am so sorry Namjoon! I didn’t know she called you,” Hoseok’s voice is regretful, his eyes are tired as his face comes into view.

“It’s okay. I told Imani that if she goes to bed now, we can watch Bluey together in the morning.”

“Oh? Should we make pancakes too?” Hoseok questions with a smile on his face as he nuzzles his nose into Imani’s temple.

“Yesh,” Imani yawns and rubs at her eyes.

“Okay, I think it’s time to say night night to Joonie.”

Imani pouts as she stares at Namjoon on the screen. “Love you, Joonie. Night, night.”

Namjoon’s heart is cotton candy light, the sweet warmth of love lifting his worries away.

“I love you too, baby. Be good for Hoseokie and sleep well.”

Namjoon presses his fingertips to his lips and blows a small kiss. Imani giggles and Hoseok hums in acceptance.

“Love you Joonah. Goodnight,” Hoseok whispers and Namjoon smiles, the dimples on his face coming to life.

“Goodnight, yeobo. I love you.”

The call ends and Namjoon inhales slowly, collecting himself to deal with the rest of the night.

“You have a little girl?” Usher’s voice brings Namjoon back to the party and he turns with a bashful smile on his face as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Please excuse my unprofessionalism and yes, I do. We just adopted her a little over two and a half months ago.”

Usher walks over to Namjoon and pats his shoulder, “Don’t worry ‘bout it man. How old is she? How are you enjoying fatherhood?”

Namjoon’s whole body relaxes as he thinks about Imani. The little girl came into his life without any warning and he can hardly remember his days before her.

“Imani is a four year old quoll hybrid.” Namjoon bites his lower lip and thinks before he clears his throat. “W-Would you like to see a picture?”

Usher nods his head and smiles, “I would like nothing more. Your whole demeanor changed when you were on that phone call. I thought you were a bit of a hardass but now I understand why. I’m missing my family too, man.”

Namjoon shows Usher a few photos of Imani and some videos of her being her silly, sweet self. One video is of Yoongi, doing his famous noodle arms wiggle dance, dressed in black jeans and a black distressed bleach sweater. Imani comes into the frame dressed in white tights and a pink sweater with large white daisies all over it. She copies Yoongi’s move and nearly falls backwards from giggling. Jungkook soon joins, his tail bobbing behind him in his black ripped jeans, white t-shirt and colorful plaid button up that he left open.

“Are you part of a pack?” Usher asks and Namjoon nods his head.

“There are a total of eight of us, including Imani. Myself, Taehyung, Jimin and Hoseok are human. Imani, Seokjin, Yoongi and Jungkook are hybrids.” Namjoon explains and Usher is impressed.

“Seems like you really love them. That is beautiful man.”

Namjoon’s face heats up at Usher’s words and the older man laughs. “Come on. Let’s get back to the party before someone comes looking for us.”

“Time to wake up pup,” Hoseok rubs Imani’s back gently as he tries to wake the little girl. She is swaddled tightly in a bunch of blankets with her axolotl plushie clutched tightly in her arms.

“Imani?” Hoseok coos softly. “Come on baby.”

Last night was a battle to get Imani to bed, so Hoseok allowed for the little quoll hybrid to sleep in his and Namjoon’s bed. Imani had fallen asleep almost instantly once Namjoon’s scent wrapped around her. 

“Wakey, wakey pup.”

Imani’s ears twitch on her head, showing that she’s slowly starting to wake up and Hoseok smiles. From inside of the blanket, Imani chirps, her tone whiny and high pitched as the quoll hybrid tries to snuggle deeper into her blankets. Hoseok sighs with a fond smile on his face. How can he disturb such a cute sight? He thinks that Imani must be having the sweetest of dreams, so he kisses the top of her head that isn’t covered with blankets and slides out of bed. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Walking over to the dresser, Hoseok grabs pink sleep pants and a black t-shirt; pulling them on quickly before he shoves his feet into his house slippers and leaves the room. He makes sure to leave the bedroom door cracked open in case Imani wakes up before he comes back. Yawning, Hoseok stretches his arms over his head and cracks his fingers as he mumbles to himself. He goes over his mental checklist for the day, pleased that his schedule for the day is fully booked. He has three hair appointments and two nail appointments. Making his way to the bathroom, Hoseok shuffles in and does his morning routine to wake himself up a little more.

In the hall footsteps stomp around and Hoseok rolls his eyes; sounds like Namjoon is home. Wiping his hands with a towel, Hoseok opens the bathroom door and leans against the doorframe. He watches as Namjoon yawns, ruffling his hair as he rubs at his eyes with a fist.

“Long night?” Hoseok questions and Namjoon nearly trips over his own two feet at the sound of Hoseok’s voice. Hoseok giggles and pushes off the door frame before he walks over to Namjoon and wraps his arms around the bigger man’s waist. “Did you at least have some fun?”

Namjoon grunts and wraps his arms around Hoseok, pulling the man closer into his body before he buries his nose into Hoseok’s hair. He sighs and melts in Hoseok’s arms. Hoseok rubs Namjoon’s lower back and kisses his cheek.

“Imani is in our bed, so be quiet when you get in there.”

“Lay down for a little bit?” Namjoon begs and Hoseok rolls his eyes playfully as he sighs. “I missed you.” 

Hoseok’s lips lift in the corners and Namjoon stares at him with tired eyes, the love as bright as ever. Leaning forward, Hoseok kisses Namjoon and pulls away to grab his hand.

“Come on, I’ll tuck you in.”

Imani’s giggles fill the space, the air has a thick floral scent of pure sunflowers but Namjoon doesn’t know that. The smile on Imani’s face, the brightness of her eyes and the way she clings to his hands as they spin around shows Namjoon that the little girl is happy. Bluey plays on the TV screen but neither of them are watching it. Imani has demanded that Namjoon play Princess with her, so now here he is dressed in one of the finest suits that he owns. Which happens to be a custom made suit by Taehyung that Namjoon wore once for a fancy Halloween charity ball. 

The suit itself is all black, a tailored fit that draws attention to Namjoon’s thick thighs. The shirt is a crisp white button down with cloud-like ruffles that flow down the front and cuffs around his wrists, covering beautiful pearl closers. To match Imani’s grandeur, Namjoon coifs his hair out of his face and steals a pair of play earrings. The large crystal diamonds shine brightly against his skin with one of Jimin’s layered diamond and pearl necklaces to match.

Imani is decked out in a pretty black and white ball gown pageant dress, something that Namjoon is sure Taehyung created for a special event; though truthfully he has no idea what for. The bodice is made from black velvet that splits into six flower-like petals at the waist with beautiful pearls lining the edges. The illusion neckline sits high on Imani’s neck, a strip of black velvet holds it up with a single pearl closure in the back.

The front of the faux necklace has a tasteful rhinestone and pearl pendant in the center before the neckline dips into a soft portrait with ruffled tulle sleeves that fall off the shoulders. The full skirt is a snow white mixture of tulle and satin that sweeps across the floor and hides Imani’s little bare toes.

A silver tiara sits on top of Imani’s head, hair styled in two simple space buns behind her ears with eight braids hanging in the back that have clear and blue beads at the ends. The sparkling fake jewels from the tiara glitter in the overhead lights while Namjoon dances with Imani standing on his sock clad feet.

‘Beauty and the Beast’ plays from the Bluetooth speaker system as they dance together and Imani’s whole face is lit up. Her wide toothy smile is blinding as Namjoon carefully shuffles on his feet to move around. He was supposed to relax today and catch up on some much needed sleep but Namjoon thinks this is a much better way to spend his time. This is a memory that Namjoon will hold close to his heart until his very last days alive.

The music drowns out the sound of the elevator for Namjoon, but Imani hears it clearly. Her ears twitch and she wraps her tail around Namjoon’s calf. Her giggles are bell-like as they blend with the music. As he steps off the elevator, a smile pulls at Jungkook’s lips; his nose and eyes scrunch up as he pulls his phone from his pocket. From the side, he records his mate and pup as they dance together. Namjoon’s lips are moving and Jungkook is sure that Namjoon is singing along. Jungkook quickly sends the video to the group chat before he sneaks his way to the bathroom.

Jungkook’s phone starts to vibrate with text messages while he sits on the toilet and he giggles to himself as his mates all gush over Imani’s dress. Taehyung is foaming at the mouth, excited and impressed with how good his design looks on Imani while Jimin is trying to figure out if Namjoon is wearing his necklace.

Seokjin wishes he was able to smell Imani that moment in time and Yoongi agrees with him. Jungkook informs them all that Imani is a freshly grown sunflower field, growing ever bright underneath the warmth of the sun on a breezy summer day. Fresh, happy and light. It makes tears come to Hoseok’s eyes and he has to excuse himself from the front of the shop to cry about it in the back before he can splash his face with cold water.

Jungkook is pleased with everyone’s reactions and finishes up in the bathroom, washing his hands and tucking some of his unruly hair behind his ear. It might be time for a trim now that he really looks at himself. An undercut would be cool or maybe red hair?  Jungkook stares at himself for a few moments more, he cannot stop smiling. His mate is in the other room happy and content. Imani, she is…well Jungkook knows for a fact that she is beyond happy and that makes his heart thump harshly in his chest.

Imani is safe, happy and loved. His sweet beautiful little pup is everything and more. Jungkook understands this tight feeling in his chest and he laughs. He loves Imani with his whole being, she is the missing piece of the pack and every day spent with her gives Jungkook more and more to love about her. Shaking his head, Jungkook leaves the bathroom and the ears on his head twitch. A sudden tingle runs down his spin and he bites his lower lip. Oh…well. Shit.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he quickly types out a message to Yoongi and Seokjin before the phone clatters to the ground. The sound of metal and plastic on the tiled floor cuts through the music; followed by a coughing growl. Namjoon scoops Imani into his arms before he rushes towards the sound and his eyes widen. Standing in the hallway is a seven and a half foot kangaroo that stares at Namjoon and Imani with wide black eyes.

“Kookie!” Imani squeals and wiggles out of Namjoon’s arms. She runs over the large animal and wraps her arms around Jungkook’s middle. Slouching down, Jungkook hugs Imani as tightly as he can in his animal form and nuzzles against the top of her head. A soft clucking sounds slips from Jungkook’s lips as he inhales the scent of sunflowers; it is soothing.

Namjoon sighs and scratches the back of his head. Jungkook doesn’t shift often because he’s so big and his tale always ends up knocking things over. Having him in the hallway, loving on Imani makes Namjoon smile as his heart warms twice over. 

“Let’s get you in the nest before you break something.” 

Namjoon leads Jungkook out into the nesting area and watches as the kangaroo hops down into the nest. Jungkook chucks softly, calling to Imani and Namjoon watches as Imani answers with her own chirp. She takes her tiara off and sets it on the floor before she scrambles into the nest and in the blink of an eye, there is a pile of fabric with nobody inside. Namjoon waits a few seconds before he reaches into the nest and carefully lifts the dress up. Imani’s little quoll form is caught in the fabric of the skirt and Namjoon’s dimples sink deep into his cheeks.

“Easy, pup. Let me help you.”

Untangling Imani from the dress, Namjoon sets her down carefully into the nest and Imani chirps happily. Her tiny legs carry her quickly over to Jungkook who is laying flat on his stomach with his arms out in front of him. Imani circles four times in between Jungkook’s arms before she curls into a ball with a huff and presses her little body into Jungkook’s neck.

Jungkook rests his head over top of Imani’s body and sighs loudly as he closes his eyes. Imani’s tail drapes over Jungkook’s arm and she purrs softly, the muzzle of her face pressing into Jungkook’s neck as she starts to groom him.

“You know what?” Namjoon yawns and rubs at his eyes. “A nap sounds wonderful right now.” He takes off Jimin’s necklace and picks up Imani’s tiara, placing them both on the island counter before he climbs into the nest and lays down beside Jungkook. He rests his head near Jungkook’s arm, his own arms folded and tucked under his head as a pillow.

“We can figure out why you shifted later on, Kook. Get some sleep for now.”

In the home office, Namjoon sits behind his desk with his laptop opened to zoom. Doctor Miiko is on the screen before Namjoon and she is going over goals for Imani’s next appointment. She asks Namjoon questions, wanting to know if there are any pack goals that he would like to bring to light. Is Imani having any issues after the first session? Questions that Namjoon can answer easily enough. Jimin and Taehyung are home, so Namjoon doesn’t have to worry about Jungkook and Imani getting into trouble while shifted in their animal forms. Namjoon answers the Doctor’s questions and texts the pack for any question that he feels would be best answered as a pack.

Doctor Miiko is kind and patient as she waits for answers and listens to Namjoon’s concerns. So far, she has very high hopes for Imani’s treatment, even with just one session under her belt. Imani is an open book and with Doctor Miiko being a hybrid, having the added benefit of being able to smell Imani’s emotions makes things much clearer when Imani struggles to articulate and explains her emotions and thoughts. As a child, feelings are complex and overwhelming. It is the Doctor’s job to give Imani and her pack the tools best suited to make their day to day lives easier.

“And just to be clear, you said that your youngest mate has shifted, correct?” 

“Ah, y-yes. That’s correct. Jungkook shifted a few hours ago and Imani joined him. They were having a snack when I left them with my other mates.”

“Is this Imani’s first time around one of the pack members while they are shifted?” 

Namjoon nods his head and frowns. Now that he thinks about it, Imani hasn’t seen Seokjin or Yoongi shift since she has been adopted.

“Is that normal?” Namjoon worries and Doctor Miiko smiles.

“Every pack is different and with having three adult male hybrids, there is nothing to worry about. You already sent me your pack’s rut and heat schedules. Based on that time frame and the emotional shifts of your pack omega, I think this shift was triggered by emotions as well.”

Doctor Miiko shuffles through paperwork in her hands and glances down, reading to herself quietly before she turns her attention to Namjoon.

“Watch Jungkook for any signs of aggression or any unusual behavior. From his biology profile, I do not foresee any issues but Imani is an unpresented pup who shares no blood relation to any of you.”

“Would Jungkook harm her?” Namjoon’s voice is choked, he cannot imagine Jungkook hurting Imani.

“No, you misunderstand my meaning Namjoon.” Doctor Miiko clears her throat and pushes her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose. “The aggression would be towards the other members of your pack. In Jungkook’s case as the pack beta, he fills the role between the pack alpha and omega. This is the safe space when all else fails.” The doctor explains and Namjoon listens to every word she says.

“Having not shifted in front of Imani for this long, Jungkook’s animal counterpart has finally found the time to get acquainted with Imani. I wouldn’t be surprised if your pack alpha and omega do the same.”

“So-” Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to understand the Doctor’s words. “You’re saying that this is all for a more thorough bonding between the hybrid members of our pack?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I am saying Namjoon!”

“Should we reschedule Imani’s session? Will she want to stay shifted with the others if Yoongi and Seokjin shift?”

“Most likely. Imani will crave the comfort of those like her. If Yoongi and Seokjin both shift, then Imani will gravitate towards them. In a perfect hypothetical situation, this whole shift will last no more than five days.”

Namjoon sighs and leans back in his chair. Five days? He won’t be around to help like he should.

 “And if it’s not a perfect situation?” Namjoon dares to ask.

“Seven to ten days. Twelve at the most depending on when your pack alpha shifts.”

“Understood. Thank you for taking the time to answer my questions, Doctor.”

“Anytime. I will move Imani’s next session to the following Friday and we can move it again, if need be.”

Namjoon bows his head and cuts the call. He stares at the blank screen in silence and takes in all the new information. This is a good thing. Having all the hybrid pack members shifted at once will strengthen the bond and make Imani feel safer.

Doctor Miiko is right. Yoongi and Seokjin shift within a day of each other and if you ask Hoseok, he nearly died of a heart attack. Waking up to an alpaca in his face isn’t bad but having a thirty-five inch snake slither across his foot and try to inch up his leg before he has had his morning coffee…yeah. No. The blood curdling scream Hoseok let out, woke up everyone in the house. The slew of curses his let fly is entertaining until everyone remembers Imani is with them. 

“You made me curse!” Hoseok scowls down at Yoongi who flicks his tongue out at him.

Chuckling, Taehyung picks Yoongi up from the floor and drapes the black rainbow scaled snake behind his neck and over his shoulders. Yoongi wraps himself loosely around Taehyung’s right arm and bops his cheek in greeting.

Taehyung giggles and tickles under Yoongi’s jaw, “Good morning lovely. You didn’t mean to scare Hoseokie did you now?”

If a snake can look like a cat that got the cream, Yoongi is a picture of feigned innocence. Seokjin snorts from his place beside a sleepy looking Jimin who is cradling Imani’s tiny body in his arms. Jungkook is in the nest, his dark eyes watching Imani as she chirps loudly. Jimin grins and pecks the top of her tiny head.

“Good morning, pup.”

Namjoon is half dressed for the day. His shirt isn’t buttoned nor tucked into his black slacks and he only has one sock on. Hoseok shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair as he looks around.

“Well since we’re all up, I guess I’ll make breakfast.”

From the nest, Jungkook barks and Seokjin headbutts Jimin’s arm softly. Wordlessly, Jimin follows Seokjin to the nest and sets Imani down. He watches in amazement as the three hybrids wrap around each other, lumps of fluff and poof, all happy and warm. Taehyung comes over and sets Yoongi in the nest as well before he wraps his arms around Jimin’s waist.

“I wish I was a hybrid,” Jimin pouts and Taehyung ducks his head down, kissing Jimin’s neck. They have had this conversation a lot with and without the pack. Taehyung agrees with Jimin most of the time, as much as he loves being human, he feels jealous at times of his hybrid mates. 

“My sweet little swan,” Taehyung coos and hugs Jimin just a little tighter.

The pack all agreed that if Jimin were born a hybrid he would be a swan or something in the bird family. He is so elegant and graceful, yet his mean streak is fierce. Whereas Taehyung fits the role of a fox or tiger on his best days.

“Should I breed you now or later?” Taehyung whispers hotly into Jimin’s ear as he presses his smaller mate’s ass into his crotch. 

“Hey, hey!” Namjoon scolds as he buttons his shirt. “Keep it pg, there is a child present!”

Taehyung looks over his shoulder at Namjoon and raises an eyebrow.

“What?” Namjoon openly stares back at Taehyung, confused by the sudden attention.

“You might wanna go take care of that-” Taehyung nods his head towards Namjoon’s lower half and licks his lips, “before you say anything about pg.”

Namjoon’s whole face heats up and he quickly turns on his heels, rushing to the bathroom to finish getting himself ready for the day.

“You’re so mean, TaeTae,” Jimin giggles and Taehyung buries his face into Jimin’s neck. 

“Yah! You horndogs, break it up and feed our mates, yeah?” Hoseok calls over from the kitchenette and Jimin slaps at Taehyung’s arms as they wrap tighter around his waist.

“I’m not protecting you for Hobie.”

In the nest, Imani chirps as Yoongi slithers his way over and dives into Seokjin’s fur for warmth. Imani sniffs at the snake and sneezes cutely before she climbs onto Jungkook’s back and purrs. Jungkook huffs but doesn’t move as Imani’s tiny nails dig into his fur. She circles twice and purrs before settling down and closing her eyes. Seokjin nudges Yoongi closer to Jungkook’s chest and shifts a little, so that Yoongi is curled in between their sides. Satisfied with the mixture of body temperatures and scents, Seokjin situates himself, tucking his legs underneath his body and lowering his head to the floor. 

Imani purrs once more to which Seokjin answers with a hum of his own before he closes his eyes and takes a nap.

[transbookoftheday]

Beyond the Gender Binary by Alok Vaid-Menon

In Beyond the Gender Binary, poet, artist, and LGBTQIA+ rights advocate Alok Vaid-Menon deconstructs, demystifies, and reimagines the gender binary.

Pocket Change Collective is a series of small books with big ideas from today's leading activists and artists. In this installment, Beyond the Gender Binary, Alok Vaid-Menon challenges the world to see gender not in black and white, but in full color. Taking from their own experiences as a gender-nonconforming artist, they show us that gender is a malleable and creative form of expression. The only limit is your imagination.

[gothbass]

(Images mostly from Pinterest)

One Of Us (Pt. 8)

★ Rhea Ripley x [afab] Reader

Warnings: blood, blood, and more blood.

Word count: 367.

“So. We meet again, huh, punk?” Rhea sizes up her opponent, raring to just go at her.

“Seems so, runt,” Verena (the voice from prior, who finally has a name to go by) growls, too confident for her own good that she'll win with ease.

“Runt? Oh, you're goin’ down, bitch.”

As the two fight with bloodlust pent up within themselves, you watch from outside of the ring. Rhea grabs a hold of Verena and Riptides her, but Verena seduces her way out of it. The two fight until Rhea has collapsed onto the ring mat, staring breathlessly at the ceiling.

You take an initiative and slide into the ring to stand guard of Rhea.

“And what do you think you're doing?” Verena asks you, finding your actions curious. On the inside, you know you're doing this because you're terrified to lose Rhea, not to mention that she's your maker. While you're both practically immortal, you're still susceptible to pain and death—even if you're technically undead.

Verena lets out a chuckle and steps a heel to you, but your quick reflexes grab ahold of it before you get squished like a little beetle. You take a few seconds to breathe and shove Verena down onto the ring mat, eventually sliding her off and out of the ring completely. Like Rhea once did for you, you bite into your wrist (Bill Compton move, as per usual) to revive Rhea and help her regenerate.

After the match has resumed and ended, Rhea reigns victorious as the entire ring—as well as herself, you, and Verena—are completely soaked in blood…which won't be an easy cleanup (we'll leave that to the janitors, they won't have a clue).

Rhea charges after Verena, who dissolves into ashes just before she can be hit, leaving Rhea to somersault along the ring mat. You collect the ashes and put them in a baggy in your pocket to keep a hold of them (just incase). Seeing you gather the ashes, Rhea approaches you and gives you a thankful kiss on the cheek.

“Good work today,” she flashes you a smile before patting your shoulder and heading to the locker room to clean the blood off of her.

[Series Masterlist]

[aaknopf]

The novelist Michael Ondaatje has been a poet from the beginning. “Lock,” like other poems in new collection A Year of Last Things, speaks swiftly across time, striking at poetry’s core, where a singular memory flares in the dark and illuminates everything.

Lock

Reading the lines he loves he slips them into a pocket, wishes to die with his clothes full of torn-free stanzas and the telephone numbers of his children in far cities

As if these were all we need and want, not the dog or silver bowl not the brag of career or ownership

Unless they can be used —a bowl to beg with, a howl to scent a friend, as those torn lines remind us how to recall

until we reach that horizon and drop, or rise like a canoe within a lock to search the other half of the river,

where you might see your friends as altered by this altitude as you

The fresh summer grass, the smell of the view— dark water, August paint

How I loved that lock when I saw it all those summers ago,                         when we arrived out of a storm into its evening light,

and gave a stranger some wine in a tin cup

Even then I wanted to slip into the wet dark rectangle and swim on barefoot to other depths where nothing could be seen that was a further story

More on this book and author:

Learn more about A Year of Last Things by Michael Ondaatje.

Browse other books by Michael Ondaatje.

Hear Michael Ondaatje read at the Chicago Humanities Spring Festival on Saturday, April 13. Michael will be in California and will read at Green Apple Books in San Francisco on April 15 at 7:00 PM (register here), Dominican University of California in San Rafael on April 17 at 7:00 PM (register here), and Copperfield Books in Petaluma on April 18 at 7:00 PM (register here).

Visit our Tumblr to peruse poems, audio recordings, and broadsides in the Knopf poem-a-day series.

To share the poem-a-day experience with friends, pass along this link.

[lionofchaeronea]

Having just finished Poems of New York, I've now read fifty volumes in the Everyman's Library Pocket Poets series. Hooray for pointless milestones!