#popstar!reader x vi

[shouyuus]

sfw; but slightly suggestive OKAY but going off of this drabble

like imagine popstar!reader doing a tiktok live and everyone in the comments being like TRY THE KISS PROOF LIPSTICKS and you read some of them out loud, blushing like --

"well, i can't lie -- i did get a few pr packages --" you glance off screen and vi says something. you laugh, crinkling your nose and a second later, vi appears behind you, casually slinging her arms around your shoulders, putting her chin on top of your head.

her face isn't entirely in the frame but chat is losing it already.

"they want us to try the lipsticks, don't they?"

you laugh, nodding, lacing your hands with hers, trying to catch comments as they start to fly by.

you heave a sigh, but you can't help the smile on your face as vi leans down to peer at the comments as well.

"whoa, people are really passionate about this, huh?"

she sounds way too smug. you roll your eyes, giving her bicep a tiny pinch. she hisses and frowns down at you, but you bat your lashes and look up at her with a bright smile.

"can you go grab the pr boxes under my desk?"

vi quirks a single eyebrow.

you sigh, "please?"

vi grins, leaning down to peck your lips before leaving the frame to grab the boxes. you turn back to the chat, your cheeks bright with color.

"chat, #confirmed she bottoms," you read out loud before breaking into a fit of giggles, "it's called having manners!" you say, but your eyes are twinkling with mischief even as vi shuffles back with a bunch of boxes balanced in her arms.

she puts them on the table before nudging you off your seat, tugging you back till you're settled in her lap and she can hook her chin over your shoulder. you reach out to adjust the angle of the camera, still blushing, before grabbing one of the boxes.

"alright then -- let's see what these are made of."

you put the first one on, leaning close towards the screen to apply a smooth layer of the lipstick, smacking your lips and glancing down at the carton.

"allow to dry for 30 seconds for a matte, kiss-proof finish," you read, glancing up at the live and then towards vi.

vi grins, "think it's been 30 seconds?" but her eyes are honed in on your mouth as she licks her own lips.

"mm, close enough," you say, squeaking as vi tugs you forward for a long kiss. it leaves you breathless and a little lightheaded, gulping down air when she finally pulls away, smacking her lips.

"well --" she says, wiping at her own mouth, "it's not bad -- but it kinda tastes weird."

"yeah," you agree, "kinda... bitter?"

vi makes a face, and both of you dissolve into laughter for a few seconds before you reach for a makeup wipe off camera and attempt to wipe your lips clean.

"3 outta 5 stars," vi says, smiling as you cap the lipstick and reach for another one.

the second one tastes better but smears pretty quickly, and you're left leaning over vi's mouth, trying to clean the color off her lips as much as your own.

she glances down at the comments before snorting.

"course the color's not gonna stay if you're trying to suck her lips off her face, fam," she reads out loud, "those ain't kisses -- that's someone trying to finish the bottom of their milkshake with a straw that doesn't quite reach."

you laugh, burying your face in her neck for a second before turning back to the live, "guys!"

vi shrugs, "i mean, you guys asked for this." she squints at the screen once more, "would pay real life money to make out with either one of you, tbh, lipstick or no."

she smirks, tightening her hold on your waist as you reach for another box.

"sorry bubs, no amount of money's gonna convince me to make out with anyone else but her."

you slip open the third lipstick, shooting the camera a quick grin.

"same."

the third lipstick smells faintly like strawberries, and it glides on with a glossy sheen. you wonder if the camera can catch the way vi's pupils dilate; the shade of pink is almost a perfect match for the color of her hair.

"mm... smells nice," vi murmurs, tugging your chin towards her. a thick groan rumbles from her chest to yours as she kisses you, licking into your mouth. you make a high-pitched noise at the back of your throat and immediately try to pull away, afraid that the camera mic might catch it, but vi's hand catches the back of your neck and presses you closer.

"fuck... tastes nice too --" she whispers, breaking away just long enough for you to suck in a breath, your lashes fluttering like moth wings across her cheeks, and then you're drowning in her again, feeling the delicious drag of her tongue across your lips as she coaxes you open for her.

after another long minute of kissing, you pull away, panting.

the comment section's lost all semblance of decorum --

sweet lord tag ur p0rn!

yall im married and ive never felt more single

this is insane to do on live ur gonna get banned

ive watched literal sesbian lex more pg than this wtf

"o-okay -- seems like we have a winner!" you say, holding up the last lipstick to the screen. beneath the table, vi's fingers are digging into your thigh as you bite back a groan as she buries her face in your neck.

"yep, that's definitely my fav too," she says, though her voice is slightly muffled by your skin and you fight down a coarse shiver as she purposefully grazes her lips along the soft spot just beneath your jaw.

"cool! well -- i think that's all the time -- we've still gotta make dinner and --" you cut off as vi inches her fingers beneath the hem of your skirt.

you catch one last glimpse of the comments before you close the stream --

just say ur gonna fck and go

be safe! rmbr to hydrate!

keep the stream on u cowards!!!

the live ends and vi groans as she hoists you up, sinking her teeth into the delicate skin of your neck, walking the pair of you towards the bedroom.

"v-vi --"

"you really should wear that lipstick more often..."

"what, the strawberry one?" you ask, even as she tosses you onto the bed and you bounce once on the massive mattress, her crawling over you to cage you beneath her.

"mhm. really does... taste good..." she says, her voice trailing off as her eyes catch on your lips again, pink and shiny from the residual lipsticks and her spit. she leans down with a debauched moan, licking into your mouth.

it's a long time before you get to actually making dinner that night. but later that night, you post a picture of your hand holding the strawberry lippie with the caption:

#certified 💋-proof! had dinner and dessert, and this baby didn't budge at all!

but of course, your followers aren't fooled. and it only takes about 20 minutes after your post goes up for #SexProofLipstick to trend on just about every single social media platform.

you get a call from your pr manager the very next morning telling you that the brand is asking you to be the face of their new line of kiss-proof lipsticks, and that "they'd love for your girlfriend to be part of the campaign as well."

[uhsabrina]

— Spotlight & Shadows ⋆ bodyguard!vi x popstar!reader ⋆ series masterlist

⋆ synopsis - As one of the biggest pop stars in the world, your life is a whirlwind of flashing cameras, sold-out shows, and carefully curated perfection. You’re used to the attention, the pressure, and the constant eyes on you. But fame comes with its dangers, and after a serious security threat, your management takes no risks, hiring a new personal bodyguard to keep you safe. ⋆ MNDI 18+, WC - ??, slowburn, mentions of stalking/threats, jealousy & possessiveness, forced proximity, sexual tension, suggestive themes, eventual smut, top!vi, bottom!reader, oral, fingering, loads of praise, reader has a praise kink, reader is inspired by Sabrina Carpenter ⋆ status - on going, taglist - open (comment below if you want to be tagged)

— Table of Contents

1 - Lights, camera, action!

2 - I fucked up, definitely

3 - New beginnings

4 - to be continued..

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) Part VI

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (fem!y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. also, this chapter contains some (implicit) references to sex.

genre: social media au (with written parts), angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

[A/N: and with this chapter, we come to an end of the Prophecy series! I've got some deleted scenes/bonus content, but other than that... time to say goodbye. I hope you've loved this journey as much as I have, do let me know!]

part i part ii part iii part iv part v

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

December 8th, 2026

Second week of December, 2026

[Excerpt from Chicken Shop Date with Y/N L/N & Amelia]

“Are you a romantic?”

“I do – but I’m quite cautious, too. It takes me a while to open myself up to someone else.”

“What’s the most romantic thing someone’s ever done for you?”

Y/N thinks hard, then points at the food in front of them. “I think consistency, actually. Like, I had someone surprise me with my favorite meal every single time after major milestones. I thought it was really nice, especially because when you're tired you just want to spend time together, instead of having to work on putting dinner together for yourselves.”

“Really? You'd rather take-out over a homecooked meal?"

"Knowing your strengths is important in a partner. If you're not the best cook, take-out is the next best thing! And like I said, it's also about time."

"So what you’re saying is going on chicken shop dates is the epitome of romance to you?”

“Exactly,” Y/N says emphatically, pointing a fry at Amelia.

(...)

“Your album is called The Prophecy. Are you very superstitious?”

“Not really, no. But desperate times call for desperate plans. I think things like manifesting can't hurt,” Y/N giggles.

Amelia frowns. “Are you desperate, or are you calling me desperate?”

“Maybe not desperate. Let's go with yearning.”

(...)

“What do you think, is Christmas a good holiday to bring a date to?”

“Hmm , set the scene for me. Is it a friends only party, or family dinner?”

“It’s a dinner party with friends. Would, and should my date be willing to come?”

“Amelia, are you asking me on a second date?”

“Well, no. Maybe? Aren’t you...?”

Y/N blushes. “Let’s be present in the moment!”

“Okay, so tell me – can it be a good second date?”

“I think if you feel super comfortable with them, and you have great friends, the vibe isn’t super formal, then why not? It could be a great trial by fire. Like a new and improved orange peel test.”

“Has someone ever peeled an orange for you?”

“Yes,” Y/N nods. “That’s funny – there is an orange on our table right now.” Camera pans to a Terry’s chocolate orange.

“I’ll peel this one for you,” Y/N offers.

Third week of December, 2026

Last week of December, 2026

January, 2027

[Excerpt from Vogue]

It’s hard to think of the popstar as anything but unflappable, but she assures me there are plenty of moments in which she doubts herself. “I think anyone who craves that recognition at being good at what you do, is going to struggle with the reality of having people see you all the time. As a perfectionist, I wish I could control everything so people’d only ever see my best self all the time. But that’s a pipedream. There’s so many expectations, it can be difficult to figure out which ones were really your own to begin with – and which ones you’ve started to believe because you don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Indeed, as a female popstar, L/N has had to deal with her fair share of hate online, oftentimes masked as mild concern or constructive criticism from supposed fans. For example, a leaked song earlier this year spurred fans on to comment and speculate about L/N’s ambition – Did she have enough of it? Was she going to give it all up for a man?

L/N’s the first to admit that it’s not entirely unsurprising, given that the song in question includes a lyric describing her willingness to carry the burdens of someone else by herself. “It’s never fun when stuff you chose not to release ends up finding its way to the public after all. There’s a reason I didn’t want it on the album,” she explains. “But in this case, I wrote the song with my friend Louis [Tomlinson] ages ago. We used it as a reference when I started writing in earnest again earlier this year, but that’s all it was meant to be. A reference.”

So why did it become such an obsession to her fans? Well, if one adds a high-profile relationship on top of a high-profile career, that’s a recipe for things to get complicated. The singer’s latest album details her experience with the subsequent public fall-out. While she previously hasn’t spoken much of her relationship with F1 driver Lando Norris and how it influenced her art, she is candid about it now. “I think for the first time, rather than wanting to use songs to capture the great moments, I used songwriting to help me reflect on what could’ve been, what it wasn't, where it went wrong. And in doing so, that also opened the door for me to grow.”

“It’s really painful to have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes love isn’t enough. Especially when in retrospect, there’s much more room for acknowledging how you contributed to the problem. So yeah, by challenging myself to be vulnerable in my art, I also had to put my own hurt and heart out there again. But I think it’s made me a stronger, better person.”

And what of that relationship now? She has a coy smile on her face.  “Good, I think, really good. I firmly believe my life is a lot richer when he's in it. So I count myself lucky that I get to have his back and he has mine.”

We are just about wrapping up the interview when her phone lights up with a message from L. It’s a link to an IG reel of dogs being bundled up like tiny burritos. It’s so innocuous, you’d almost forget that the person sending it is a star in his own right.

Celebrities, they’re just like us sometimes.

February, 2027

[Excerpt E! Online Grammy's Red Carpet interview]

"And we're here with the lovely Y/N L/N! Not nominated this year, but a presenter and performer on this night all about music."

"Hiii, thanks for having me!"

"Now tell us, you've had a super exciting year in 2026 - what are you most looking forward to tonight?"

"I'm doing a duet with Miley, which is awesome. I feel so honored they asked me to do this, and I love her so much. She's really one of the iconic voices of this generation, so to stand next to her on that stage? Amazing."

"That's super exciting! The two of you are also both heading on tour, Miley over the summer, you are literally heading out next week. How are you feeling about that?"

"Really good! I'm so excited to see the fans, I've done some shows here and there, but touring life is on another level."

"What else are you looking forward to? Some of your other friends are here tonight, as well, correct?"

Y/N nods. "Yeah, I actually just saw Louis [Tomlinson] arrive - he's nominated tonight so I'll be rooting for him. The Grammy's is always a great moment to catch up with friends as well, so maybe I'm even more excited for the after parties."

"Drink of choice tonight?"

"Probably champagne? Quite like the taste of it, always," Y/N winks at the camera.

March, 2027

April, 2027

FIN.

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

You can read the previous parts by going here. Keep an eye out for the bonus content/deleted scenes!

The epilogue is now available here.

♥ likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

taglist (open) : @charlesgirl16, @linnygirl09, @hoeforsirius, @motorsportloverf1, @sarx164, @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff, @formulaal, @tvdtw4ever @sadiemack9 @seonghwaexile @screamingwines

[valalice]

VI (VIOLET) M.LIST

SERIES

for the fame.

↳ punk rockstar!vi x popstar!reader

sfw & nsfw | the music industry—known for its raw creativity, dazzling performances, and turning anyone into an overnight sensation. but what comes with newfound success is being able to maintain a steady stream of traction around your name (whether it's good or bad, because all press is good press. right?), for some artists it comes naturally, becoming chart climbers release after release, while for others they struggle falling down the charts and becoming known as just a one hit wonder. now when two artists under the same label are both getting sly criticism from blogs commenting on their declines, their managers have no other choice but to curate a class pr stunt to regain their public appeal again, while creating buzz around their respective upcoming projects. what could happen when the industry's rebel and sweetheart become the unexpected pair of the year?

FICS ╱ ONE SHOT

nothing yet!

HEADCANONS

nsfw | blinds wide open. (ft caitlyn) you've unknowingly attracted the attention of piltover's finest, and now they'll do anything to make sure you're theirs.

DRABBLES

nsfw | vi with nipple piercings.

[hazelsmirrorball]

Rockstar Girlfriend VI. | Hazel Callahan

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader

Summary: Hazel Callahan and Y/n L/n have to be in a pr relationship, but both of them can stand each other. 

Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Angst, Fight (not physical) Not proof read. Sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my main language. 

a/n: I’m back after a while!! Sorry for being MIA. I don't know how to feel about this but I'm really thankful for all the support. Lots of new things coming soon. love you guys.

part one. part two. part three. part four. part five.

The tour was canceled. 

Everything Y/n had worked for went down the drain. Not only had she lost the tour she risked everything for, but she had lost her bandmates' trust. They were losing followers by the minute and receiving hate left and right. All that success she had gained because of Hazel was almost gone. 

The moment everyone found out about Hazel's outburst, the show was canceled with a blink of an eye. They could hear the cries and screams of fans outside. Y/n couldn’t bear to listen, she felt bad, guilty even. Management said that her band couldn’t perform because they were only the openers, so karma was biting her ass quickly.    

But after one show became two and then two became five, management canceled the whole tour, every single date. They claimed that they couldn’t do anything without Hazel, their star. Y/n tried to be positive that maybe Hazel was joking around and that she was going to come back but when management canceled the tour, her feet finally hit the floor. The tour was over before it even started. The hop of the wave of success both bands were having was cut short. The most anticipated tour of the year was canceled due to mental health issues from one of the band members. That was what got posted on the band's page and every news article. 

But Hazel made it her job for people to know that, that wasn’t the case. If the tour was canceled she wanted people to know the real reason, no more tricks, no more lies and no more fake love. Y/n felt her heart stop when her phone started to blow up with notifications and her eyes landed on a video Hazel had posted on instagram after being MIA for two weeks. 

That was when “Mean” was born. 

“Hi guys! I know I’ve been gone for a while and all of a sudden the tour got canceled. But I’m here to tell you guys that we are currently working to get your back running again. This time we decided it was best to get new openers. Anyways, on my little break I decided to write this song I really hope you guys enjoy!” Hazel said to the camera starting to strum her guitar. Y/n felt her heart drop every second that passed by. If she was already losing everything with a blink of an eye it wouldn’t surprise Y/n if what was left of her career ended just because of that song. 

hazel.callahan via instagram

liked by bottomstheband, y/nnn, and others

hazel.callahan rehearsals for tour are the shit! I missed this a lot, can't wait for tour to start <3

view all 1,550 comments

hazelsbottoms she's backkkkkkkk

user101 mother is back, hope tour doesn't get cancelled this time.

pjandhazeparis sorry to disappoint but I'll be a groupie for life

bottomsupdates why is y/n lurking in the likes? hasn't she done enough

| ynloveshazel please leave y/n alone

| bottomsupdates she's the one lurking her comments

Hazel had uploaded an acoustic version of a song she had written through her break in an attempt for people to understand what she was going through. It was something new, different from the songs she was used to writing for herself and other people. The song quickly took the world by storm gaining everyone’s attention. Fans had caught up quickly with who the song was written for, making it their job to make Y/n’s life a living hell. Her band's account was barely existent by the minute and management was going insane.

Y/n couldn’t let things slide. She had three options, let her pr team do everything for her, clap back and deny the allegations, or attempt to do a song just like Hazel did. The thing was, Y/n was already used to Hazel’s constant help writing songs and honestly she kinda missed spending midnights with her writing songs. She missed how Hazel would slowly touch her skin in an attempt to get her attention or how she got lost in her blue eyes while she tried to explain the chorus of the song. Y/n missed Hazel. She hated herself for running things with her. Things were finally different, this time Y/n didn’t hate Hazel, Hazel just hated Y/n. 

She was going to make things right, possibly ending her career. But it was worth it. If Hazel heard the song, she could lose everything and she wouldn’t care. 

Y/n propped her camera hitting record while sitting in front of it, letting out a sigh. She slowly strummed the guitar she barely knew how to play but all she could think of was all the times Hazel had attempted to teach her how to play it.

“This song is for someone special in my life that I treated so badly. I know I fucked up and I wished I could go back to december, they day I met you and start all over”

y/n's instagram

liked by bottomstheband, ynnnn, and others

y/nnn but if we loved again, I swear I’d love you right

comments have been deactivated

Y/nnn let out a sigh as she looked at her phone flooding with notifications. At least if she was gone for social media, she was certain Hazel had heard the song. Maybe she could get another chance or another life where they could get together with no mistakes.  Y/n’s thoughts got interrupted by a harsh knock on her door. She quickly walked towards it, ready to face her neighbor. But she felt her heart drop when she noticed the familiar blue eyes she had fallen in love with. Y/n’s eyes wandered all over her trying to tell if she was real or an act of her imagination due to the lack of sleep. But as the words slipped out of her mouth she knew it was all reality. 

“My guitar.” Hazel replied, playing with her feet. Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and looked at her confused. 

“What do you mean, my guitar? How do you know where I live?” Y/n responded leaning against the doorframe trying to get a better look at Hazel. 

“My guitar. You have my lucky guitar, I saw it in the video you posted. Now, can you please give it back” 

“No.”

“What do you mean no? It’s mine, L/n.”

“You don’t speak to me, drop a diss track on my name and expect me to give you back you guitar” Y/n exclaimed while looking at Hazel with a surprised look on her face. 

“Are you insane? You do know that all of this is not my fault, right? I was willing to do anything for you but you preferred the fame over me. You fucked up your own career and you fucked up with me. Yet, I came here, to your apartment and you still want to act like the victim instead of saying your sorry. You know what stays with the stupid guitar. I don’t want it anyway. You want to play a game that I’m really tired of playing. I really don't understand why are you like this.” Hazel exclaimed loudly pulling on her hairs.

"I like you Hazel and I'm like this because I know I screwed up the only good thing in my life" Y/n said loudly leaving Hazel with her mouth wide open not knowing what say.

At least he got the chance he desperately needed.  

thank you for reading

previous part.

[ceeaann]

III. MASTERLIST

ARCANE

Hockey!vi x Figure skater!reader

Highschool!AU arcane x reader

Highschool!AU arcane x reader part 2

Popstar!caitlyn x Rockstar!reader

Tgswiiwagaa!AU vi x reader

Troublemaker!jinx x Academic achiever!reader

TLOU

HSR

EXTRA

Valentines collab

[pxgeturner]

vi brainrot… so what if i just—

[topimpabunny]

GIRL I GOT YOU!!!! the fic just started, but the first chapter should be out on the 14th!!! It's called 'For the Fame' by @valalice and I helped co-write it :> it is a rockstar!vi x Popstar!reader

Trope:

Enemies to friends to lovers

Angst with a very happy ending

Hurt/comfort

Fair warning, as the series progresses it will most likely talk about alcohol and substance abuse, homophobia, etc. But trust me, it's done very well and with lots and lots of care :) check it out if you're interested!!!! She also did character summaries for both the reader and vi!

The prelude is up too!

can y’all please recommend some vi x fem/gn reader PR relationship fanfics or oneshots doesn’t matter if its on here or ao3

[armyhome]

Make it Right | Kim Seokjin | PT-BR

⇢ pairing: Seokjin x Reader. 

⇢ genre: Fofo, triste, engraçado, me curou onde doía enquanto eu escrevia. 

⇢ word count: 5.2K 

⇢ warnings: Pode te levar a sonhar de olhos abertos.

⇢ versão em inglês: Make it Right (Eng)

Quando (Nos encontramos pela primeira vez)

Lembro muito bem como foi a primeira vez que nos encontramos, quer dizer que eu o encontrei.

Vovô colocou uma tigela de Jjajjangmyun, o cheiro era incrível, ele sorri para mim, tínhamos decidido fazer um mochilão gastronômico na Ásia dois anos atrás, para comemorar minha formatura do ensino fundamental e finalmente começamos ele semana passada em Yokohama Japão. Agora estávamos em Seul, Coreia, depois iríamos para Taipei, Taiwan. 

-Quero que você aprenda a identificar as nuances, mesmo com comidas de sabor forte! Pronta Sol? -  Ele levanta os hashis e eu levanto os meus – Vamos lá!

A espessura e textura do macarrão na Ásia era diferente, provavelmente por conta de como era preparado, a pasta de feijão preto tinham um sabor agridoce? Talvez por causa da carne vermelha misturada, nunca tinha comido um feijão que fosse doce...Minha análise é interrompida por um garoto desenhando em meu rosto.

Ele não estava desenhando literalmente no meu rosto, mas sim no vidro espelhado na minha frente, mais dois amigos o acompanhavam na travessura, ele desenha uma rosa, como aquela da Bela e a Fera. Poderíamos ser a versão invertida do conto de fadas, porque aquele garoto era tão  lindo que nem mesmo se eu fosse  remotamente bonita.... Ele para de desenhar e encara sua obra de arte, naquele momento parecia que ele conseguia enxergar através do espelho e podia ver meus olhos encarando o com um pedaço do macarrão fora da boca com pasta de feijão nos cantos dela, meu coração dá um solavanco e engasgo.

Vovô me dá um copo de água tento, tomar mas a tosse me impede, o senhor que cuidava do caixa levanta por causa do barulho que eu estava fazendo e acaba vendo os meninos, finalmente consigo beber um gole grande de água cessando minha quase morte. Quando olho para rua novamente, só a rosa ficou, o dono gritava na frente dos restaurantes coisas que não entendia, vovô dá tapinhas.

-Coma devagar Sol! Até parece eu quando conheci sua avó...- Termina rindo, minhas bochechas ardem como se tivesse fogo correndo debaixo da pele, era ridícula a ideia de me apaixonar à primeira vista, só tinha me encantado pela beleza do menino.

-O senhor sempre foi tão romântico assim vovô? - Ele faz que sim sorrindo – Uau, vovó é uma mulher de sorte! - Digo e volto a comer. 

-Quem sabe aquele menino não pode ser sortudo também? - Ele não ia desistir, precisava distrair ele com alguma coisa que mudasse realmente o se foco.

-Nossa vovô, esse macarrão é realmente diferente, textura, sabor.... Como faz isso?

-Então durante o preparo da massa...

Quando (Nos conhecemos)

Dez anos depois 

Entro no restaurante de Enrico, realmente ele tinha encontrado um belo ponto em Nova York para abri-lo, o aluguel daquela cobertura a duas quadras da Times Square deveria ser pelo menos um rim esquerdo! 

O local era lindo uma parte era aberta e tinha UM LAGO ARTIFICIAL! Quem Enrico tinha matado para conseguir isso? A metri pede para me guiar até onde ele estava, só faço que sim, não consigo lembrar de como se fala em inglês, aquele lugar era um palácio, onde ele tinha aprendido tanto sobre design de interiores oriental? 

Assim que me vê Enrico levanta da mesa e caminha até mim de braços abertos sorrindo, apresso o passo e o abraço, que saudade do meu amigo.

-Quem você matou para ter isso aqui? - Sussurro para ele.

-Como não tenho vocação para assassino, acabei dando o golpe do baú – Ele aponta para o rapaz na mesa, ele parecia lutador de MMA por causa do corpo grande e forte, mas seu rosto era gentil como o de uma criança ao me vê sorri e seus olhos se tornam uma linha fina, ele acena nos chamando – Vamos lá, você precisa conhecer  Jaemin e seus amigos! Eles são famosos, acredita? Duvido que você saiba quem são, afinal vive trancada nas cozinhas de restaurantes pelo mundo e escrevendo naquele blog. 

-Você quer dizer, aquele blog que pode destruir a reputação do seu restaurante apenas com algumas palavras? Nem estreou e já quer fechar as portas Erinco Vigolini? - Ele me encara com os olhos arregalados.

-Quem te ensinou a ser uma cobrinha assim? - Apontei para ele que coloca a mão no peito, fingindo indignação e depois sorri – Tá isso pode ser um pouco verdade! 

A mesa deles estava em uma área aberta, era verão em NY e ventava pouco, no máximo tinha uma breve brisa, estavam todos conversando mas quando Jaemin levantou para me cumprimentar todos se viraram para fazer o mesmo. 

Meus olhos devem estar quebrados, não consigo acreditar, não é possível, uma década depois, estou de frente para aquele garoto, agora homem, na minha frente a diferença é que agora ele consegue me ver. Seu cabelo estava rosa, combinava com os traços delicados do seu rosto, ele sorri gentilmente para mim, me sento de frente para ele, se meu coração bater um pouquinho mais rápido vou morrer.

-Enrico falou muito de você Sol – Começa Jaemin – Ele me falou que você é uma crítica gastronômica muito importante no mundo culinário e que foi por isso que ele se tornou seu amigo na faculdade, para você dar altas notas para nosso restaurante! - Enrico dá um tapa de brincadeira no seu ombro – Ela sabe que é brincadeira amor!

-Enrico sabe o quão justa sou em todas minhas críticas, independente do meu vínculo pessoal com a pessoa e que minhas críticas não tem intenção de ferir ou menosprezar o proprietário e sim que ele se auto avalie e faça aprimoramentos que talvez não tenha percebido por estar tão imerso no projeto, geralmente mando um resumo da crítica primeiro para o proprietário depois posto a íntegra no site...

-Viu Jaemin, sou amigo de uma anjinha! - Eles cruzam o braço e Jaemin deita a cabeça na de Enrico.

-Acho que vamos ficar um pouco excluídos da conversa agora – Comenta um dos meninos em coreano.

-Desculpa - Pedimos eu e Jaemin ao mesmo tempo, eles olham espantados para mim.

-Desde quando você sabe coreano?- Pergunta Enrico.

-Aprendi durante o ensino médio, estava na expectativa de encontrar uma pessoa mas, não sabia se ela saberia inglês, então decidi aprender sua língua natal para ter certeza que poderíamos conversar! - Enrico bate palmas.

-Não acredito que o coração de gelo de Sol Macedo já teve alguém dentro! - Reviro os olhos e pego uma taça, Jaemin me serve um pouco de vinho.

-Enrico me contou que todos aqui são famosos, o que você fazem? 

Acredito que neste mundo não existiam pessoas mais animadas sobre o que faziam e mais gentis, eles se apresentaram um a um, inclusive Seokjin, então me contaram sobre suas músicas e performance com tanta educação e felicidade, Enrico fazia questão de pontuar todos os recordes dos sete meninos a minha frente mas, a simplicidade que emanava deles me fazia ter dificuldade de assimilar eles a popstars, não consigo parar de olhar para ele a cada trinta segundos, respira Sol, agora ele é um superstar, a vida de vocês corre por caminhos muito diferentes. 

-E você? Como é a vida de uma crítica? - Ele pergunta. 

-Hum, as vezes é difícil, escolher as palavras certas, para não ofender profundamente alguém e também, algumas pessoas não estão dispostas e se auto conhecer e não levam o que tenho a dizer a sério, preferem jogar a culpa em mim do negócio delas não ter funcionado ou crescido mas, comida não é apenas sobre algo que foi escrito no meu site, nem todo mundo lê, na verdade só quem conhece o ramo tem ciência do meu site e alguns apaixonados, mas com tanto fast food, as pessoas não se importa mais com comida feita por pessoas de verdade... Porém tenho minhas recompensas pessoais, tipo agora, estou em um lindo restaurante, comendo o melhor da culinária coreana, com a maior boyband da atualidade...

-É GRUPO, não boyband! - Corrige Enrico.

-O maior grupo masculino de música pop coreana – Me corrijo sendo extremamente enfática em cada palavra, fazendo todos na mesa rirem, amarro meu cabelo em um rabo de cavalo, quando levanto os braços e a manga sobe revelando minha tatuagem, que não era pequena, pra que fui fazer aquela rosa cobrindo metade do meu ante braço?

-Tem algum significado? - Seokjin indaga com a sobrancelha arqueada, não é possível que ele lembrasse era? 

-Hyung parece aqueles desenho que você fazia em todo canto! - Afirma Namjoon, valeu cara, muito obrigada por me afundar na merda de vez! -Sério ele desenhou isso por toda Seul! 

-A ora, que coincidência, foi lá que tive a ideia dessa tatuagem, dez anos atrás eu e meu avô fizemos um mochilão gastronômico, vi uma rosa dessas desenhada no restaurante em que fomos! - Falo rápido como se estivesse narrando uma partida de futebol, e tomo uma taça de vinho de uma vez só. 

-Vamos, crianças, hora da apresentação da Kina Grannis lá dentro, todo mundo já comeu certo? - Chamou Enrico. 

Ele nos leva para o lado oposto ao que estávamos, ficamos no fundo distante das pessoas que jantavam ali no andar inferior, já disse que esse lugar era incrível? Enrico deveria estar cobrando uma fortuna por cada prato! Kina era uma atração especial, ela era elegante como todo o ambiente porém era, só ela e seu violão o que trazia um toque de simplicidade, quando ela começou a cantar Can't Help Falling In Love, todos no ambiente fizeram “own” juntos. 

Jaemin e Enrico dançavam juntos, será que um dia teria aquilo? Por tanto tempo esperei para quando tivesse me formado, ter um trabalho bom, um garoto que desenhou uma rosa para mim dez anos atrás que agora tinha se tornado uma pessoa completamente intocável...

-Eu lembro de você – Sussurrou no meu ouvido, ele coloca as duas mãos nos bolsos do blazer bege que usava, se inclina para mim e repete – Eu me lembro de você Sol! Naquele dia, vi você e seu avô, tirando uma foto na frente do restaurante! Você me viu desenhando no vidro espelhado?

Não estou conseguindo sentir minhas pernas socorro. 

Quando (Nos apaixonamos)

Cinco meses depois

Entro na cozinha e encontro Seokjin sem camiseta, sim, cozinhado, imagina se cai uma gota do óleo quente no qual ele estava refogando o arroz, naquela pele macia e lisinha dele, ele vira na minha direção, dou pulinhos até ele, estou muito apaixonadinha nesse homem. Ele usa o braço esquerdo par envolver minha cintura fico na ponta dos pés e ele se curvar me para me dar um selinho.

-Não queime o alho – Comento, ele faz careta e volta a cozinhar, abraço ele e apoio minha cabeça e suas costas – Quanto tempo até o comeback? 

-Amor, não quero pensar nisso, fazem só dois dias que cheguei, pensar que em duas semanas vou voltar para treinar e não vou te ver por sei lá quanto tempo me dói todinho – Escuto ele encher a panela de água e pôr a tampa, ele então se volta para mim – Eu amo profundamente o army, meu trabalho e você! Dói não poder conciliar os três! 

Ele segura o meu rosto entre as mãos e beija minha testa, depois apoia o rosto em meu ombro, dou um beijo na sua bochecha e ele suspira.

-Que filme vamos assistir hoje? - Mudo de assunto, não queria deixar ele triste.

-Podemos só ficar juntinhos hoje? - Diz fazendo manha, sorrio assanhada. 

-Nada contra, quem insiste em proteger falsas virtudes aqui é você! - Ele me encara bravo – Não está mais aqui quem falou! 

Ele ligou o cronômetro e deitamos na cama de casal, nosso loft 3X4 como eu chamava, porque tudo ficava na mesma sala, ficava em Nagoia no Japão, Seokjin queria comprar um apartamento mas, eu tinha gastado todas minhas economias para abrir meu restaurante, ao contrário do que muita gente pode pensar, crítico culinário não ganha lá muita coisa, nós não morremos de fome porque precisamos comer para escrever e geralmente o dono do estabelecimento que convida  a gente. E também não valeria a pena, nossas coisas estavam na Coreia, só teríamos três semanas apenas.  

  -Qual foi a primeira coisa que você pensou quando me viu a primeira vez Sol? - Cara, era difícil criar uma linha de raciocínio com ele falando contra meu pescoço. 

-Hum, “se meu coração bater mais rápido é capaz de eu morrer” - Ele ri, universo você está de prova que estou tentando não atacar esse homem – E você, o que pensou quando me viu pela primeira vez? 

-“Como aviso para ela que vamos nos casar sem assusta-la?” - Dou um tapa no seu braço, mentiroso deslavado, ele ri – Sou completamente apaixonado por você e naquela época tinha alguma coisa em você, não sei explicar sem ser brega, só quis poder ficar ali te olhando! Acho que era nosso destino se acabamos voltando um para o outro! - Ele segura meu braço e passa o polegar pela minha tatuagem – Assim que eu sair do exército faço a minha! 

-Vai fazer o army inteiro infartar! Não precisa fazer, isso aqui é coisa minha! Sei como pega mal na Coreia uma tatuagem, foi um parto para me venderem o local do restaurante! - Pego sua mão e dou um beijinho nela.

-Podemos fazer uma linha vermelha no dedinho, posso usar um anel ou maquiagem para cobrir...

-Você tem que me prometer Seokjin, vai continuar sendo tão romântico assim mesmo depois de nos casarmos, não quero saber se passaram trezentos anos e nossas almas já não aguentarem dividir o túmulo! Kim Seokjin sempre vai dizer coisas assim para Sol! 

-Só se você prometer me olhar assim para sempre – Ele segura o lóbulo da minha orelha entre o dedão e o indicador.

-Nunca aprendi te olhar de outra forma! 

Ele aproxima seu rosto do meu, posso sentir sua respiração contra meu rosto, como é possível estar tão desesperadamente apaixonada por uma pessoa, antes que pudéssemos nos beijar o alarme avisando que o arroz tinha cozinhado toca. UNIVERSO PARA DE ME ZOAR! 

Quando (Nos separamos)

Um ano e meio depois

Acho que se tivesse sido aos poucos eu não estaria sofrendo tanto, sei que ele é ocupado, a pessoa mais ocupada do mundo mas, ele só parou de responder as mensagens, não falou nada no dia que o restaurante inaugurou, mandei trocentas mensagens de apoio quando teve o comeback mas, nada, nenhum emoji! Assisti a cada video, olhei cada foto, comprei o álbum, chorei em cima desse, como ele poderia mentir usando tanta sinceridade? Seria melhor voltar para casa?

Não jamais! Não vou desistir do meu sonho, só por causa de um coração partido, ninguém morre disso! Quem não me quer, não me merece é isso! Foco agora é daqui a pouco vou fazer a primeira transmissão pela televisão sobre culinária e restaurantes da minha vida,  devo estar remoendo esse assunto por isso, porque queria que ele estivesse aqui e me dissesse que estava torcendo por mim mas, não está e ponto final.

Olho meu reflexo no espelho, nada pode te quebrar ao ponto de você parar de funcionar! Você é uma chefe de cozinha, agora premiada, com um restaurante renomado em Seul, você lidera projetos que propõe levar alimentos de qualidade para todos os cantos mundo, principalmente aqueles que não tem acesso algum. Você é uma boa pessoa e não fez nada de errado.

-Senhorita Sol? Estamos prontos para te começar! - Sorrio e acompanho o rapaz.

A entrevista ocorreu super bem, a repórter me faz sentir confortável para falar, vamos da minha formação, meu blog, a construção do meu restaurante em Seul, meus projetos com ongs e se quero casar com algum coreano é bem divertido, quase como conversar com uma das minhas amigas, nem percebo o tempo da entrevista passar, quando dou por mim acabamos.

Saio do estúdio, entro no estacionamento e quando estou quase chegando no carro, Jungkook aparece na minha frente todo serelepe e sorridente me oferecendo um copo de café, estava congelando do lado de fora então abro a porta do carro, para entrarmos e ligo o aquecedor. 

-Senti sua falta Sol noona! - Sorrio, ele era muito fofinho.

-Também senti sua falta kookie, como você está?

-Estou bem, estamos indo para os Estados Unidos receber um prêmio acredita? - Faço que sim com a cabeça, eles já tinham ganhado antes mas, agora era um prêmio dado por uma academia.

-Estou muito orgulhosa e torcendo por vocês! - Ele se dá um tapinha na cabeça como se tivesse se espantado com a lembrança de alguma coisa.

-Vou ser rápido, porque se não daqui a pouco até o FBI vai estar me procurando – Nem um pouco dramático – Hyung viu aquele dia que o cara diretor da ong se declarou para você! E na cabeça dele, aquilo era o melhor para você, como ele pode decidir isso sozinho, não sei? Ele disse algo sobre nunca poder ficar muito tempo por perto, você precisa de alguém melhor, toda essa ladainha que não caio, se fosse verdade você não mandaria mensagens para ele, para mim  e os outros meninos, torcendo, dizendo que tem orgulho e falando que sente a falta dele para ele, mesmo depois de um ano! Ele está sendo idiota mas, é porque ele te ama demais! Quer te ver cem por cento feliz! Ele acha que um namorado presente faria isso....Bem vamos passar duas semanas e meia nos EUA, não é justo que eu peça que você o perdoe depois dele simplesmente sumir mas, vocês dois estão sofrendo! Pense nisso noona, nós estávamos assistindo sua entrevista escondidinhos, você estava linda – Ele me dá um beijo na bochecha – Não conte isso pro hyung! 

-Me empresta o seu celular Jungkook – Ele me entrega sem pensar muito, digito o número de Seokjin que sei de cor, um toque, dois...

-Junkookie onde você está? A transmissão começa em vinte minutos! - Seguro meu coração ao ouvir a voz dele.

-Quem te deu o direito de decidir por mim? - Minha voz sai chorosa, fico com raiva,me sentia fraca, ninguém responde do outro lado da linha – Me responde Kim Seokjin, já passei mais de um ano lidando com seu silêncio, sem saber o que fiz de errado....

-Você não fez nada de errado meu amor....

-Não me chame de amor, você me colocou em um inferno Seokjin, fiquei batendo minha cabeça contra a parede me perguntando o que tinha acontecido! Assistindo seus videos, te vendo ficar cada vez mais magro, você por acaso está comendo? Suas costas estão doendo por causa do treino? Tomou chá de gengibre quando sentiu dor de garganta? Você pode ver todas essas mensagens no seu celular depois! Estou tão magoada, todas nossas promessas, todas nossas confissões, em suspenso porque você achou que poderia decidir o que é melhor para mim! Pois está aqui sua resposta Seokjin, eu sofrendo, de coração partido! Mas, mesmo morrendo de saudade, não vou dar um passo até você! É sua obrigação arrumar essa bagunça que você mesmo causou entendido?

-Sim... Também sinto sua falta Sol! - Sua voz está embargada.

-Então faça alguma coisa sobre mas, faça rápido! Estou indo em uma missão para Myanmar daqui uma semana, vou passar quatro meses lá, isso é tempo mais do que o suficiente para você decidir o que quer da sua vida mas, não posso garantir que vou estar aqui para você quando voltar também! É sua responsabilidade agora salvar esse relacionamento ou deixar ele morrer de vez...

-Entendo, não consigo amar ninguém além de você...

-Vai ter que me provar isso agora! Já que fez questão de complicar o que já era difícil!

-Prometo que vou! 

Quando (Crescemos)

Dois meses depois 

Uma coisa é ver fotos, vídeos pela internet, outra coisa completamente diferente é ver uma criança subnutrida a sensação de que um ser humano pode quebrar com seu toque é atormentadora, a guerra civil instaurada naquele país tinha acabado com todos os recursos de água potável e alimento, tudo que chegava era cinquenta por cento confiscado pelo exército para manter os soldados e a outra metade não era suficiente para todos os civis.

-O suprimentos vão acabar em dois dias se não fizermos nada Sol – Comenta Sandy enquanto analisa a sua tabela, massageio as têmporas.

-Não consigo encontrar uma solução, mesmo que compremos comida, o exército vai levar metade, não temos orçamento suficiente para comprar tanta coisa, os médicos também estão ficando sem recursos... A que ponto a humanidade chegou! - Me jogo na cama, além do mais, por que tão quente esse lugar? Fazem só cinco segundos que tomei banho e já quero outro.

Abro meu celular entro no twitter, olhar fotos do Seokjin e dos meninos claro, precisava me distrair um pouco de toda aquela situação lamentável, cada passo que eu dava me fazia sentir culpada por viver tão bem e saudável, como as pessoas que financiam essa guerra dormem, como os senhores das armas conseguiam beijar suas esposas e filhos no final do dia sabendo que sustentavam a morte de tanta gente? O nome de Seokjin brilha na tela como se ele tivesse ouvido meus pensamentos lá dos Estado Unidos.

-Oiee – Forço uma voz animada.

-O que está acontecendo? Você está bem? Vi no jornal que houve um ataque terrorista hoje em uma mesquita, Sol me diz que você está bem! Quanto tempo até você sair daí? Você já ajudou o bastante! - Ele não para nem para respirar.

-Não sei se consigo sair daqui, faltam dois meses para o fim do projeto voluntário mas – Respiro fundo, já tinha pensado naquilo algumas vezes porém pensar é uma coisa, verbalizar, outra completamente diferente – É tão injusto tudo que essas crianças precisam passar, fome, abusos, luto atrás de luto, não sei se vou conseguir voltar para Coreia daqui a dois meses... Só que também não sei se vou poder ficar, nossos suprimentos estão acabando, não fazemos ideia de como mudar essa situação, o exército toma metade de tudo, é revoltante! - Deixo escapar algumas lágrimas – Como posso viver bem depois de saber tudo isso?

-Você não é culpada pela miséria dessas pessoas Sol... Mas eu entendo como está se sentindo, às vezes recebemos cartas das armys ou tuítes delas, desabafando as coisas horríveis pelas quais elas passaram ou estão passando, o senso de responsabilidade me domina, imagino que assistir as pessoas passarem por isso, deve ser pior ainda mas, sempre mantenha em mente Sol, não é sua culpa! - Respiro fundo, preciso absorver a informação, essas palavras são tudo o que tenho.

-Como a tour está indo? E a preparação para o comeback? 

Conversamos por tanto tempo que acabo dormindo em meio a conversa, meu corpo estava tão cansado a voz dele foi desfazendo cada nó dentro da minha cabeça que me matia acordada, sua presença física ou não, me animava, me fazia sentir coisas boas, como a luz de um farol em meio ao mar revolto. 

-Sol, gostaria de dizer que não importa o quão forte você abraçar esse travesseiro, ele não vai virar o Seokjin – Sandy comenta sentada na ponta da minha cama – Acorde  bela adormecida, o príncipe encantado mandou um presentão para você, em tempo recorde! Ele é um príncipe de verdade? Por que em menos de doze horas! 

-O que está acontecendo Sandy? - Sento na cama ainda zonza pelo despertar.

-Seokjin mandou os suprimentos que estávamos precisando urgentemente, além de fazer a situação ser divulgada pela grande mídia, não para de chegar comida do mundo inteiro! - Ela coloca a mão no bolso e retira um envelope – Isso é só para você! 

-Obrigada – Pego o envelope, dentro dele tem uma foto polaroide nossa, no nosso

apartamento 3X4, usando moletons cinzas combinando, meu coração perde o compasso, como sempre quando o vejo, no verso da foto está escrito : 

“Talvez você me ame mas, com certeza eu te amo, posso fazer isso dar certo!” 

Quando ( Nos amamos)  

  Dois meses depois não voltei para Coreia.... Já fazia um ano depois disso e três meses que Seokjin foi convocado pelo exército coreano, o que diminuía bastante nossas ligações e mensagens.

Não consegui voltar para Seul, a sensação de trabalho não terminado me dominava toda vez que pensava sobre, aos poucos mesmo ainda em meio a guerra civil declarada, já conseguia se manter um estoque de comida bom. Erradicamos a linha miserável entre as crianças, com ajuda dos médicos e professores voluntários mesmo nos momentos difíceis e tendo que ensinar crianças como agir quando houvesse um tiroteio no meio da aula, tínhamos evoluído bastante desde que chegamos.

Hoje as frotas pacificadoras coreanas, americanas e brasileiras chegaram trazendo água potável, comida, livros, cadernos e utensílios médicos, os líderes voluntários incluindo eu fomos busca-los no heliporto, o sol estava tão forte que nem conseguimos enxergar o helicóptero mas, o barulho anunciava sua chegada, três deles, gigantes pousaram, quando os soldados iam descendo ajudamos a tirar as coisas lá de dentro. 

Peguei a primeira caixa de arroz, analisei o seu estado, as datas de validade, estava tudo correto, seguro firme nas alças laterais e puxo ela para mim.

-Você consegue carregar isso sozinha? - Pergunta o soldado coreano atrás de mim, pela gentileza na sua voz sei que ele não tem a intenção de ser machista, só se preocupa mesmo, afinal tinham uns vinte quilos de arroz naquela caixa, ergo ela mais um pouco para mostrar que estou bem com aquele peso.  

-Não precisa se preocupar já estou acostumada – Digo me virando para mostrar a ele, a caixa escorrega da minha mão assim que coloco os olhos nele.

Seokjin sorri para mim e meu coração se desmancha, ele ri da minha expressão, algumas lágrimas escorriam por minhas bochechas, ele estava ali, ele tinha andado até mim, voado para ser mais específica, tanto faz, ele estava ali! Ele caminha até mim e me abraça.

-Eu te amo, você está ouvindo? Só você, feche seus olhos, mesmo se tudo mudar, isto não mudará! Você é meu amor e eu sou o seu amor – Cantarola em meu ouvido, referência a Descendants of the Sun, um dos meus dramas favoritos de toda a vida, tento manter o controle e não agarrar aquele homem ali mesmo – Vem precisamos continuar a fazer nosso trabalho mas, o que você acha de um encontro hoje a noite?

-Claro! - Respondo mais animada do que deveria, o que o faz rir novamente, não me importo, ele estava ali, rindo para mim isso era tudo que meu cérebro consegue assimilar.

Passo o dia inteiro entre fazer as tarefas e verificar a presença de Seokjin, passei mais vezes pelo acampamento do exército naquele dia que nesses quase dois anos de voluntariado. Nada nesse mundo se compara a beleza de Seokjin agora, nada no universo se compara a Seokjin fardado! E aquela boina vermelha na cabeça dele,é tão difícil não olhar para ele! Espero que ele tenha tirado muitas fotos assim, vou querer todas! 

No final do dia ele passa para me pegar no dormitório, estava lindo de jeans e camiseta social, cheiroso como só ele consegue ser, não consigo me deixar nem piscar, parece ele pode sumir a qualquer instante, ele elogiou meu vestido azul bebê diz que combina com a camisa dele, quase respondo que  a boca dele também combinava com a minha mas, me contive a um singelo obrigado.

-Você sabe que piscar é saudável né Sol? - Diz sentado à minha frente na mesa do restaurante, faço que sim com a cabeça e continuo olhando, ele pega o cardápio – Não vou desaparecer amor, pode ficar tranquila, finalmente vou poder ficar ao seu lado!

-Não quero que seja um sonho, se eu piscar, você pode desaparecer, aí vou perceber que sou

uma louca conversando sozinha em um restaurante bonito! - Sussurro para ele, Seokjin segura minha mão, o calor era real, ele beija as costas dela, ele era real.

-Não vou a lugar nenhum! A não ser que você decida que não me quer mais, que não me quer nem um pouquinho se quer, ai vou te deixar em paz! Esses anos foram com uma noite eterna sem sinal de luz, ver você dentro daquele helicóptero foi como ver o amanhecer, Sol – Ele entrelaça nossos dedos – Posso segurar essa mão para sempre? Posso fazer certo dessa vez! Todas as estradas da minha vida acabam em você Sol! 

Me levanto e ando até a cadeira ao lado dele, me sento e o abraço de lado, ele passa o braço sobre meus ombros e me aperta contra si, como ele era quentinho, cheiroso, macio, o que diabos estamos fazendo em um restaurante mesmo? Faço uma conchinha com a mão para cobrir minha boca e me aproximo dele, que inclina a cabeça.

-Eu te amo Kim Seokjin, vamo fazer certo dessa vez! - Ele sorri e beija minha testa.

Sim daria certo daquela vez.

Quando (Fizemos dar certo)

Quinze anos depois

-Kim Taeri, não esqueça de levar um lanche para comer no caminho da escola!Todo dia isso, você vai dormir tarde e perde a hora  da escola, vou tirar  esse celular de você mocinha! - Grito da cozinha, Yeojun ri na mesa terminando seu café – Você também mocinho, se eu vir mais um aviso no meu celular de mal comportamento na escola, vou vender seu videogame! 

-Omma! - Faço um zíper sobre a boca, indicando que não quero ouvir mais nada, ele bufa e sai da mesa para colocar o tênis.

-Vejo os dois mais tarde, direto para casa, nada de tapiar o secretário Han okay? - Eles fazem que sim ainda emburrados com as broncas que eu tinha dado, abro os braços para um abraço coletivo neles, Seokjin aparece e abraça os três juntos nos fazendo rir – Tenham um bom dia meus amores! 

Eles saem e meu marido me abraçou pelos ombros, apoio minha cabeça em seu peito, aproveitar aqueles segundinhos antes de me enfiar na cozinha do restaurante até tarde da noite, minha performance não era tão ágil e não tinha mais tanta disposição física, porém prefiro morrer que parar de fazer o que amo, mesma coisa com Seokjin, ele ainda fazia filmes, novelas se encontrava com os garotos para cantar. 

-Você não está sendo dura demais com os gêmeos? - Uma coisa que é necessário saber em um relacionamento, fazer dar certo é realmente algo literal, os dois lados precisam se esforçar para manter aquilo dando certo, se não ruiria, como um castelo de areia, quando os gêmeos nasceram foi o tempo mais difícil que tivemos, Seokjin e eu tínhamos sido criados de formas muito diferentes e isso gerava muitos conflitos, ninguém avisa sobre isso.

-Se eu não for quem vai ser Seokjin? Você? - Ele me abraça mais forte e beija meu ombro, aquilo era jogo sujo – Eu apreciaria se fosse sabe? Sempre tenho que ser a vilã da história! 

-É que nasci para ser príncipe amor, meu rosto não combina com o de vilão, por mais que já tenha interpretado alguns! Lindamente por sinal! - Me viro de frente para ele e dou um tapa em seu braço – Ai é brincadeira, você também tem cara de princesa! Minha princesa! - Continuo dando tapas mas, sem colocar força, ele então me prende em um abraço e me beija demoradamente, ai eu posso faltar no trabalho só hoje? Claro que pode, você é sua própria chefe, esqueceu? 

Passo meus braços em volta dos ombros de Seokjin que me pega no colo, entrelaço minhas pernas a sua volta, será que um dia não vamos mais nos gostar assim? Provavelmente, um dia nossos corpos não vão ter a mesma disposição ou beleza então só vai ficar o essencial, nosso amor! 

Fim

[shouyuus]

but imagine popstar!reader x vi where you're recording an extra breathy, flirty song, and after a really good take, vi comes in, pulling you into her chest, making you squeal, giggling as she compliments you on your take (the recording studio's long since gotten used to her presence whenever you're recording), but when she kisses ur neck you moan out, whining high just the way she likes, your lashes fluttering.

little do either of you know, the mic's still on by accident, and 6 months later, the web blows up when someone posts an isolated clip from the backing track of your song -- its very clearly you -- moaning and whining, the sound tapering into a sweet little laugh.

and then a woman's sultry voice saying --

"that's right, pretty girl. make that sound again for me, hm?"

[uhsabrina]

ARCANE

— Spotlight & Shadowsbodyguard!vi x popstar!reader (series)

TLOU

Coming soooooon

[shouyuus]

to kiss the sun

violet; 5,574 words; fluff and smut, no "y/n", wlw, tribbing, oral (r!receiving), face-riding, fingering (both receiving), switch!vi supremacy, service top!vi, p0rn with feelings (many MANY feelings), morning after vibes, gratuitously fluffy sex, popstar!reader x vi au

summary: the morning after vi shows up at your penthouse, you make good on your promise to show vi a few things you picked up at the brothel; sequel to counting stars

a/n: i didn't know writing smut could make me so soft. vi is needy and we must do our duty to give her everything she wants. thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

─── Ⅵ SHE'S SO USED TO WAKING UP alone that for a second, the empty bed doesn’t feel unfamiliar. and then — flashes of the night before flicker like frames of a still-remembered dream behind her eyelids — your steady, delicate hands, the trickle of bath water like piano music against her skin, the gently perfumed mist that had hung in her chest for hours after that bath had ended.

your lips, her tongue, the promise of a morning just far away enough to forget.

vi shoots up, blinking sleep from her eyes. all her muscles feel sore, but there’s a warmth pulsing beneath her skin that she hasn’t felt in… years. her limbs are heavy, thick still with the honeyed dregs of dreams but the space next to her on the oceanic bed is vast, and the only sign that you’d been there the slightest ruffle of your silken sheets.

she wraps her arms around herself, her mind still swimming with memories of last night, even as a frown creases her forehead.

“don’t worry, i’m not going anywhere. promise.” that was what you’d said — and yet.

a hard-lined prickle works up the back of her throat and vi slumps back to bury her face in a large, fluffy pillow, letting out a groan. she feels like a child, petulant and wanting. but it doesn’t stem the clench in her stomach, the old, viperous voice in the back of her head that whispers —

see? everyone leaves you. always.

and then, from somewhere beyond the closed bedroom door, she hears… singing. and she’s tumbling out of bed before she can stop herself, her toes curling into the soft pashmina carpet, her fingers cold against the doorknob as she pushes through.

she finds you in the open kitchen, your back to her as you prod at something on the stove. the delicious smell of cooking meat hits her nose and immediately makes her mouth water. but she’s held still by the sight — you still wearing the large nightshirt from last night, your pink lace robe slipping off your shoulder as you sway back and forth on your tiptoes.

the lemon-yellow light spilling through your massive windows gilds you in morning-glory gold.

vi lets out a breath she doesn’t remember holding and pads her way towards you, looping both arms around your middle and burying her face in your neck.

“oh!” you gasp, turning slightly, your eyes wide, “i didn’t hear you —”

“i thought —” vi’s voice is cracked and gravely from sleep; she clears her throat and takes a breath, “you weren’t in bed when i woke up so —”

you let out a sound like a tiny laugh, setting down the spatula in your hand as you twist around in her arms. behind you, three fat sausages and a few eggs are cooking on a large flat pan.

“i didn’t wanna wake you up,” you say, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips, “you looked like you were sleeping so well.”

vi sighs, trailing a knuckle along your cheek, even as she tugs you back for a longer kiss, a deeper kiss. one that has you gasping against her.

you giggle as she pulls away, a bit breathless. “and… you were snoring up a storm so —”

vi leans down to bite at your neck, fingers fisting in your hair to tug your head back for more access.

“i don’t snore.”

“wanna bet?”

vi pulls back with a crooked grin before her eyes flicker back to the pan. she swallows.

you turn, reaching for the spatula again.

“how do you like your eggs?”

“uh… not raw?”

you roll your eyes, bumping her with your hip even as she settles herself against your back, her chin resting on your shoulder again.

“i like mine over-easy, but i can make them scrambled too, if you want.” you scoot the sausages towards the side and flip over one of the bubbling eggs, the sizzle of the oil making vi’s stomach grumble loudly behind you.

“i’ve…” vi pauses, ghosting her lips over your shoulder, “no one’s ever really asked me that before so… i don’t… i don’t know.”

your hand pauses as you shuffle the sausages around the edges of the pan. and then —

“okay, then i’ll make one of each, and you can try both! then maybe tomorrow, i can poach a few — those are the really good ones where the yolk is all runny —”

“hey.”

vi twists your chin towards her; the kiss is sweet, but you can taste the fluttering desperation beneath her tongue, as if she’s searching for something within the warm caverns of your mouth, and that if she can just kiss you hard enough or long enough, she might just find it. when she pulls away this time, there’s something flickering in the pre-dawn blue of her eyes.

“vi?”

she shakes her head, her gaze skating along the contours of your face as if you were a painting she’d been trying to memorize.

“i just —” she swallows again, “this… all just feels too good to be true — like… like the whole thing’s a dream and i’m gonna wake up one day alone and —”

you smile as you press a hand to her cheek. “hey, hey — none of that now. the eggs are gonna overcook —” you turn back around to tend to breakfast, even as vi groans and digs her face into the nape of your neck, her fingers biting into the plush of your hips.

“and, it’s not a dream. but even if it were, what makes you think i wouldn’t just find you again after we both wake up?”

vi frowns as she lifts her head, watching as you plate the sausages and eggs, lifting up onto tip toe for the salt and pepper shakers on the shelf. she grins, loosening her arms ever so slightly to let you grab them before she’s pulling you into her again and you’re laughing in her arms.

“ugh. i’m never gonna win with you, huh princess?”

“nope — now help me carry this to the bedroom. i’m gonna pour us some drinks.”

vi watches in muted fascination as you lay out a breakfast tray on your pristine sheets and slot two bubbling glasses of what she’s sure is champagne into the carved out glass holders, and then motions for her to put down the large plate of food. she does, her expression both reverent and amused as you flop down onto the bed and tug the blankets up around your lap, patting the spot next to you.

“c’mon — before it goes cold!”

she slips beneath the covers again, crossing her legs as she watches you reach for your glass, the liquid inside shimmering with pale gold bubbles.

“bon appetit!” you say, grinning at her as you reach for a sausage with your hands. vi’s eyebrows hike up as you bring it to your lips, taking a bite, moaning around it as hot oil slicks down the side of your hand and you lean down to lick it back, the pink flash of your tongue making her stomach twist with an entirely different kind of hunger.

but, she decides, one indulgence at a time — and reaches for a sausage of her own, foregoing the knife and fork just as you had.

it’s delicious, sweet and salty, the fat bursting in her mouth making her shiver as she swallows. she’s never had anything so delicious, anything so truly indulgent. she scarfs down one sausage, and then reaches for another, pausing only to glance up at you. she finds you watching her with a smile and a sparkle in your eyes that looks so dangerously like love it makes her gut clench.

how long has it been since someone’s looked at her like that? like she was beautiful, like she was —

“someone worth looking at?” your words from the night before echos in her ears as she takes the second sausage with a sheepish grin, licking her lips of the oil.

“i can make more if you want,” you say, leaning back and sipping at your drink, “there’s plenty in the fridge, and i’ll make as many as you want.”

vi shakes her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “no, this is —” she reaches for her own glass, gulping down half in a single swig, coughing as the bubbles fizzle up her throat, “this is good —”

by the time she finishes the second sausage, you’re splitting the eggs with a knife and fork, your movement precise, as if she hadn’t just watched you lick sausage fat from your own wrist.

“here, try the eggs. this is the over easy, and this —” you push two piles of eggs towards her, one bleeding yellow yolk over the fine white china, the other a pile of fluffy sun-colored scramble, topped off with flecks of black pepper and large flakes of white seasalt.

vi scoops up one, moaning around the runny yolk, before shoveling a bite of the scrambled egg into her mouth.

“holy shit — i mean, they’re both really good —” she leans down to scrape up some more, licking the fork clean with a happy little hum.

“is there one you like better?” you ask, and vi looks up, a final bite of egg poised halfway to her mouth. she grins as she sets down her fork and pushes the breakfast tray gently out of the way, tugging you towards her.

“yeah well, sure but… ‘s not like i can focus on that when you’re sitting right there looking like breakfast, lunch, and dinner —” she grazes her lips along the length of your neck, nuzzling into the soft spot right behind your ear, breathing you in like a woman lost. and she is — isn’t she? lost in this paradise you’ve built for her, lost in the feeling of you, the irrefutable knowledge that you’re here, and that you’re here to stay.

“y-you seemed pretty focused c-cleaning that plate just a second ago — o-oh —!”

you gasp as she pins you beneath her, your leg knocking against the breakfast tray, her mouth hot along your collarbone.

“v-vi — the china —”

“mm — fuck — fine —” she pulls away from you, keeping you pinned beneath her with her thighs, thick and strong, clamped on either side of your hips as she twists around to set the breakfast tray on the floor before turning back with a smirk. “there. happy now, princess?”

you nod, smiling up at her as she returns to her single-minded task of kissing your throat, sighing against your skin as she tugs your robe from your shoulders and inches her fingers beneath the hem of your nightshirt.

“c’mon princess — didn’t you promise me you were gonna show me all the other things you learned at the brothel, hm?”

you gasp as she tugs your nightshirt up off your torso, leaving you in nothing but your lacy pink panties, your cheeks flushed, your nipples pebbling in the sudden chill.

“mm… never gets old…” vi says, reaching down to tweak at one of them, grinning as you whine.

“vi… vi, please —” you reach out for her, fingers gentle against her tensing stomach as she groans and leans down to kiss you. but before she can, the world flips and she’s hissing out a breath, blinking in confusion as you rock your hips, sitting astride her now, one palm laid flat against her sternum, the other cupping her cheek.

vi stares up at you, her eyes wide but you can see the way her pupils dilate, her gaze going hungry.

you offer her a tiny, knife-flash grin, trailing your thumb along her skin till it grazes her bottom lip.

“there… that’s one trick they taught me… would you like to see some others?”

vi moans, her head rolling back as you rock your hips down over hers again, her hands shooting up to grasp at your waist, her eyes fluttering shut.

“holy fuck, yeah —” she helps ruck your hips down, fingers digging into your flesh as you reach down to gently tug her chin back down, whispering against her lips —

“eyes on me, violet…”

her eyes flicker open, a soft whimper curling up her throat as you shift your hips down and your clothed cores meet through the layers of fabric.

“want you to watch me when i’m making you feel good.”

“sweet jesus…” vi breathes, her brows furrowing ever so slightly as you reach down to inch her shirt up as well, tilting your head slightly as you wait for her to lift her hands. you toss the shirt off the other side of the bed, breathing out as you feast your eyes on the sight of her, splayed out beneath you, a classical artist’s dream of solid muscle and ink-kissed skin.

“you know, they used to carve statues to immortalize bodies like yours…” you say, pressing a line of unhurried kisses to her shoulder, trailing across her collarbones, down the divot of her breasts, pausing over each nipple, laving your tongue over the tiny metal rings there, warming them on your tongue before popping off and making your patient way down the length of her torso. you trace the shape of her stomach muscles with the tip of your tongue, graze your teeth against the delicate skin right above the waistband of her shorts, eyes always cast up at her face, watching for the minute reactions that she’s always been so generous to give.

“eyes, violet,” you remind her gently as you suck a hickey over her hipbone and her entire pelvis jerks up towards you. she huffs out a breath, forcing her eyes open to look down at you, a pout threatening her mouth even as she chews on her bottom lip.

“shit princess — you can’t — i — it feels too good, i —”

“i know,” you shush, holding her gaze as you shift to slip the shorts from her legs, discarding them over your shoulder with a cock of your head like a curious little bird, looking her over with bright eyes.

“but i’ll stop if you look away again, okay?” you chide, grazing a thumb along her already slickened folds, circling her clit once just to see the way her jaw drops open, her eyes rolling back. you pull your hand away and she jerks up, a hand shooting out to grab your arm.

“sweet fuck, mm — c’mere —”

you hitch an eyebrow, watching her as she tugs you towards her, melding her mouth with yours, the self-same desperation you’d tasted earlier blossoming behind the tombstones of her teeth like words she’s never had the courage to say aloud. all her needs, all her wants, pressed there like flowers between the pages of her story, and you — leaning in, opening your mouth, kissing her back like you’d love nothing more than to see them, to read them, to listen, to learn.

you let her kiss you, and you let yourself be kissed. you let her pour herself into you with her fingers in your hair, and your hands soft against her neck, running soothing circles into the pulse beneath her jaw. when she finally pulls back, your lips are wet, her chest is heaving. there’s a strange, fractured light in her eyes as she presses her forehead against yours and breathes out, long and deep.

“you okay?” you ask.

“mm. yeah… i just…” she sucks in another breath, “i — uh — i’m not the best with patience —”

you laugh, “you don’t say.”

she chuckles, allowing herself to be pressed back into the sheets. you shift your legs, hooking one of her over one of yours, shifting till your clothed cunt presses against her bare one. she hisses, her head tipping back. a second later, you roll your hips down, the friction making the coil in your stomach knot over itself, but your eyes are still fixed on vi, on the trembling expression painted across her features.

“violet… c’mon, eyes…” is all you say, your voice patient hush as you slowly work yourself against her.

she lets out a pitched whine, but she forces her eyes back onto you, the gentle curve of your body as you grind your pussy to hers. she bites her lips at the wetness she can feel collecting there — hers and yours, the way you don’t hide your pleasure from her, the little hitches in your breaths, the pink flush of color washing into your cheeks, even as you swirl your hips, your eyes never wavering from her face as her mouth falls open around a moan.

“shit — god, that’s —”

“good?” you ask, leaning over her, your hair a liquid spill across your shoulders.

she nods, her mind too blissed out to really speak as you reach down to tweak at one of her nipples, tugging lightly on the ring, your other hand splayed out on her stomach, keeping you steady.

“y-yeah — really — really fuckin’ good —” she says, nearly keening as you pull back to tug your panties from you, the sight of your wetness gleaming on the lace making her skin prickle with heat. she lets you wrap your hand around one of her wrists, pulling it up towards you, brushing your lips over her knuckles before pressing two of her fingers into your mouth.

you moan around them, even as she bites her lips, her eyes half-hooded, but she heeds your earlier warnings and doesn’t look away, doesn’t let them drop shut even as you pull her fingers from your lips with a soft pop and bring them to where your still slowly grinding against her.

“show me what makes you feel good.”

“n-ngh — fuck fuck fuck —” vi chants, canting her hips up to meet yours, even as you cup one of her hipbones in your palm to steady her, watching as she presses her fingers to her clit and draws them in small, quick circles, her thumb flicking up to graze against yours.

your hips stutter and you let out a gasp, the heat in your abdomen solid and familiar.

“look so good, princess — mm —” a tiny frown creases her forehead as she quickens her pace, but you tug her fingers away, swallowing her momentary whine with a kiss, replacing her fingers with your own. you mirror her movements, relishing in the way she works her hips up against you, her movements threaded with urgency, her tongue pressing into your mouth as you slip your fingers down the seam of her cunt to dip inside her.

immediately, she keens, jerking you down as her hips ruck up.

“mm… we’re making a mess,” you say, your voice almost teasing as you pull back to smile at her, your fingers still teasing her sodden folds, “but that’s okay — i was going to do the laundry today anyway.”

you dip down, sucking gently at the skin of her neck, slowly fucking two fingers into her, feeling her clamp down around you, her head tossing back into the pillows as you sit back up and cluck your tongue, fingers slowing ever so slightly.

she peers up at you, her gaze hazy and unfocused, her lashes fluttering.

“there’s those pretty eyes,” you say with a grin, before pushing a third finger into her and curling them up.

“f-fuck!”

you press your palm against her clit, working your fingers inside her till she’s scrabbling at your arm, pulling you down roughly to mouth at your lips, whimpering and panting, her breath fanning hot as she holds you to her by the back of your neck.

“fuck, sweetness — i’m gonna — i’m gonna cum —”

you allow yourself a soft moan, nodding, quickening your pace as you dig the fingers of your free hand into her hip, a dull ache building between your own thighs as you watch vi’s lashes flutter.

“good,” you breath, “cum for me, vi — lemme see you cum for me —”

“oh — oh fuck — princess, i — a*-ah — ah — ah!*”

you fuck her slowly through her orgasm, kissing her slow and languid, swallowing around her whimpers and moans, her hips kicking as you tease your thumb over her oversensitive clit.

“holy shit…” she laughs, letting her head thump back into the pillows as you pull your fingers from her and lick them clean. “that was —” she licks her lips, swallowing thickly.

“the girls at the brothel taught me well,” you say, giggling when she tugs you into her arms, nosing against your cheek.

“they sure did but —” her fingers trail down the length of your body to cup your cunt, “i wanna make you feel good too, pretty girl.”

your breath hitches; your lashes flicker.

“mm… so damn wet, and all for me…” she says, tugging you over her shoulders, spreading your pussy lips with two fingers, groaning at the sight of your slick folds.

“c-can you blame me?” you ask, gasping as she pulls you down over her mouth, her fingers caged around your thighs. you let out a soft whimper as you feel her lick a long strip over your cunt, her nose nudging your clit as she moans into you. “o*-oh —*” you squeak as her tongue pushes into you, and you feel her rocking you down, pressing you against her so hard you’re afraid she might suffocate.

you steady yourself against the wall, reaching down to card your fingers through her hair, the color still darker than it used to be, the roots still inked in black.

vi’s cocks an eyebrow up at you from between your legs, and you can almost feel her smirk before you feel her wrap her lips around your clit to give it a hard suck. you yelp, hips jumping even as she yanks you back against her, fucking her tongue into you so hard your stomach clenches with the pleasure.

“oh — oh — ngh — violet —”

“th-that’s it, princess — so hot riding my face — mm — mmph —”

you rock your hips over her mouth, the bright tingle of heat circling through you, coiling tighter and tighter as she eats you out with a wolfish hunger, groaning into your folds as your pace goes jerky and the pin-prick of pleasure stretches inside you, ballooning out till you’re clenching over her face, fluttering around her tongue as she licks eagerly at your wetness, pooling out of you onto her chin and cheeks.

“fuck, you taste — taste good —” she mumbles, lips chasing your cunt even as you try to lift yourself up, her arms flexing as she pulls you back down.

“w-wait — vi — it’s too — too much —”

you squeak as she sits up, flipping the pair of you to finally pin you beneath her, a lopsided grin on her face, a dark, dangerous look in her eyes as she wipes her lips on the back of her hand.

“yeah? but, i’m still hungry, princess —” she wastes no time in prying apart your legs, swearing under her breath as she sees your pussy fluttering around nothing, her fingers shoving into you a second later, “and i mean — i haven’t been trained at a brothel but — been to babette’s enough times to know a thing or two —”

her smirk is sharp, even though her eyes are soft as she watches you writhe beneath her, the remnants of her orgasm still warm in her veins. a furious, ticking urge is pressing up the back of her throat as she fucks you open on her fingers, a savage want blooming inside her chest.

she wants to see you fall apart for her, over and over and over again, wants to make you scream till your voice gives out, wants to swallow around all your pretty little noises — she wants, she wants, she wants —

and then, a softer, deeper desire creeping up, up through her ribs to pool at the base of her tongue, slick as poison —

she wants you to do the same to her, just as you’ve already done.

the want is so huge it terrifies her, makes her chest squeeze even as she leans down to kiss you again, reveling in the taste of her own name on your tongue, dripping from the corners of your mouth like a hymn or a prayer.

it’s a want so vast it won’t fit behind her ribs — that she wants you. in every single way it’s possible to want a person.

and, she wants you to want her too.

“fuck, princess —” she grits out, pulling away just far enough to watch the pleasure crease your forehead, “you want it? tell me — tell me what you want —”

you’re breathless, exhalant, your fingers curling in her hair as you jerk up against her.

“w-want — want this — want you — violet — vi — vi —!”

she groans at the way you say her name, letting her head drop into you shoulder for a second before she curls her fingers and fucks them into you so hard she feels her forearms strain.

“yeah? tell me again, pretty girl —” she lifts her head to find your eyes, and for a split second, she sees herself as you might — disheveled and wild-eyed but the softness of her features is unmistakable, the way her lips are parted, her brows furrowed as she watches you.

your eyes find hers, and your breath is trembling when you say, in a voice that’s so much sweeter than the harshness of her movements, than the toe-curling sound of your wetness as it squelches around her hand, your slick dripping down her wrist and onto the sheets.

“i — i want you, violet — a-all of you — please —”

“fuck, cum for me princess — i — i want — i need to see you cum for me — please, god —”

there’s a whine high in her voice even as you spasm around her, the feeling of your cunt milking at her fingers making her shiver. her movements slow as time itself seems to unspool around you both, your bodies so much more than the sums of their parts — so much skin and breath, so much honey and rest.

you laugh, an indulgent, tickling sound, bubbling up from you as you breathe, running your fingers through her hair as she slowly tugs her fingers from you.

“shit… you came a lot,” she says, laughing with you as you nod and reach for a tissue on the bedside table and hand it to her. she wipes at her hands first, and then her face. and then, she leans off the bed to grab the plate with the leftover eggs, shoveling them into her mouth.

you lay there, watching her with a bitten-back smile. she pauses as she catches your eye.

“sorry — oops —” a bit of scrambled egg nearly tumbles out of her mouth. she licks it back and swallows, setting the plate back down to collapse next to you. “just… didn’t wanna waste it, y’know?”

you giggle, curling onto your side and resting a hand on her chest, flicking at one of her nipple rings.

“hey. quit that.”

you grin, shifting your hand down to rest against her stomach. she reaches up to cover your hand with hers, your fingers lacing easily as she turns to face you.

“still hungry?”

vi smiles, shifting closer to you on the sheets, the pair of you lying face to face, bodies curled in towards one another like mirrored images.

“nah. think i’m good now. that was a good breakfast.”

you laugh, walking your fingers along the bend of her waist, pulling yourself forward till you’re nuzzling into her collarbone. she opens her arms and loops them around you.

“yeah? good. so, have we got a verdict on the eggs?”

vi hums, considering.

“i like the scrambled ones. but… i thought you said you were gonna make something else for breakfast tomorrow?”

she hooks an ankle over yours and you shift against her, softening into her chest.

“yeah, ‘m planning on making a few soft boiled ones, and a few poached ones. they’re kind of similar, but also super different.”

“yeah? how so?”

her fingers trace soft circles into the bare skin of your back; yours trail absently over the dark lines of her tattoo, outlining the cogs and wheels and puffs of tinted clouds.

you try your best to explain the differences between a soft boiled egg and a poached egg, and it ends with the pair of you laughing, vi shaking her head even as she edges closer to you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“i could listen to you talk all day, princess.”

you crinkle your nose, “careful what you wish for.”

“mm,” vi hums, leaning in till your foreheads touch and her eyes flutter shut again, “thanks, though.”

“hm? for what?”

she breathes in, then out.

“for… all this. for breakfast, for…” she lets her voice trail off as her eyes blink open to find you watching her.

“you don’t need to thank me,” you say, inching ever closer, so close now that she can feel the heat of your words over her skin as you speak them, “i meant what i said last night — whatever’s mine is yours and…” you reach up to cup her cheek, “that i want all this because… i want you.”

vi closes her eyes, squeezing them shut as that soft tendril of desire once against pushes up against the back of her throat. she makes a sound caught between a sigh and whine, pulling you into her, wrapping both arms around you and burying her face in your hair.

“gods… you drive me insane.”

you chuckle against her collarbone, blowing an errant strand of pink hair from your mouth.

“if it’ll make you stay with me then…” your voice is slightly muffled, but vi hears it all the same, feels the rumble of it from your chest to hers, the honesty in them shaking her to the core.

she squeezes you once, long and hard, before letting you go.

“careful what you wish for,” she says, echoing your words back at you.

you smile, a simple thing, leaning up to brush your lips to hers. it’s a soft kiss, one that’s devoid of the pulsing, urgent want of your kisses prior, but for some reason, this one lingers like a prickle on the tongue, champagne bubbles as they filter down your throat, fizzling warmth through both your chests even after you pull away.

“didn’t i already tell you?” you say, bumping your nose to hers, “i’ve been praying for this since the day we met.”

vi lets out a small laugh, nodding, “yeah… you did, huh.”

you tangle your fingers in the long hairs skimming down her back.

“you don’t have enforcer stuff you need to report in for?”

vi groans, rolling her eyes, “i mean… i probably do but…”

you shake your head, “give them a call, ask for a few days off.”

vi’s eyebrows hitch at your words, “and… what do i tell them?”

“that you’re taking a few days off — call it a vacation if you want.”

“huh,” but her lips are already tugging into a knowing smirk, “and what do you propose we do on this so-called vacation of mine, hm?”

you shrug, giggling as she leans down to nip at your collarbones.

“mmm… how does staying here, sleeping in, and eating through my favorite recipes sound?”

vi pulls back, her expression flickering through several channels before settling on a mix of cautious and hopeful.

“are… you sure? you — you don’t have like… famous-person stuff you have to do?”

you laugh, “nope! not for a week at least. and… i’ve got a few really good bottles of wine in the cellar i’ve been meaning to try.”

“the cellar?”

you grin, “go make the call.”

vi pushes herself up, carding a hand through her hair and rubbing at her temples. but she glances back at you, her fingers still linked with yours. you glance down at your hands before giving her a squeeze.

“go on, i’ll still be here when you get back. i promise.”

vi leans back down to press a kiss to your cheek.

“promise?” she asks.

you nod, leaning up to kiss her properly, pulling away only when she tries to push you back into the mattress. you shoot her an exasperated look as she tugs on a shirt and nearly trips over the breakfast tray, glancing back at you from the bedroom door.

“go. i’ll be here,” you say again. and vi gives you one last lingering look before slipping through the door, leaving it swinging behind her.

a few seconds later, you hear her voice as she says —

“uh hey, it’s me. can you connect me to the warden?”

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 - join the taglist!

[shouyuus]

counting stars

violet; 4,988 words; hurt/comfort, fluff, slightly suggestive moments, no "y/n", wlw (duh), self-indulgent to the point of lunacy, lots of kissing, mentions of bodily harm (not self-inflicted), teeth-rotting fluff mostly, popstar!reader x vi au

summary: when vi shows up at your door, what to do but to let her in?

a/n: bc nothing bad is allowed to happen to vi in my fictional world(s). and also im literally cackling ofc the fic that ppl r the least interested in posted first is the one that i post first; i guess i just like to be contrary but also i want to spoil vi and this is the only way i know how

─── Ⅵ SHE SHOWS UP UNANNOUNCED, split lip and bloody knuckles, leaning against your doorframe on a thursday night; you answer the door in your sheer pink nightgown and fluffy slippers, a bottle of rose chilling in a bucket on the table.

“vi?”

“hey princess —” she clears her throat, her smirk going lopsided as she tries to hide a clear wince. a bead of blood seeps out the corner of her mouth as she sucks in a shaky breath, “miss me?”

your lashes flutter with worry as you step aside to let her through — there’s a distinct limp to her gait that she can’t quite hide with her usual swagger.

“what happened?” you ask, letting the door click shut, following half a step behind her as she drags herself into your penthouse flat, letting out a low whistle as she looks around.

“nice place you got here. fits though, pretty castle for a pretty princess —”

“violet…”

you reach out with delicate fingers, taking slow steps forward; she hisses out a breath, her eyes sharp and wild as a wounded lion’s, her mouth a blunt-edged slash as she swallows, gaze flickering between your fingertips and your face as if she’s unsure what you might do.

she winces as you rub a light thumb along her cheek; your finger pulls away red.

“sorry —” the word rips from her at your touch. her eyes drop, her whole body shakes. “i — i didn’t know where else to go — and i — i remembered seeing that stupid 100 questions video you did here for —”

“for the fashion magazine, yeah,” you say, your voice soft as a baby’s breath. your hand lingers, a palm against her cheek. she leans into your touch, the movement small as heartbreak, but just as heavy.

“c’mon, lets get you cleaned up.”

you let your hand trail down her arm till your fingers link, and you lead her to you expansive couch, pressing her down firmly even as she frowns at her grime-covered clothes against your pristine white sofa.

“i’d offer to pay for dry cleaning but —”

you cut her off with a sharp look.

“don’t you dare. and plus, i’ve been meaning to change up the upholstery forever.”

you grab a bottle of vodka from the top shelf and a box of cotton balls, plopping down across from her on the couch in a flurry of pink-colored satin, inching forward till you’re nearly parked in her lap.

vi’s eyebrows hike as you pop the top off the vodka bottle, a grin twitching at her lips.

you roll your eyes.

“it’s not for drinking —” you soak a few cotton balls in the vodka even as vi’s expression falls. you lean in; vi’s hands find their way to bend of your waist, settling there as you daub gingerly at the blotches of drying blood on her face.

“ouch —” vi winces dramatically as you press down on a particularly deep cut, her lips pushing up into a pout, “not even a little bit? might help dull out the pain —”

she cuts off as you swipe a thumb along her bottom lip, breath hitching as you frown slightly, making to tug away for a fresh cotton ball.

“don’t — don’t leave —” her voice comes out harsh, desperate. you still, expression softening impossibly.

“i’m not,” you say, patient. she finds her fingers digging into your hips but you only smile. “i’m not going anywhere. promise. but i do need another cotton ball.”

she worries at her bottom lip, and already, you can see the fresh blood collecting in at the corner of her mouth. you press back into her space, wiping the blood away. her entire body slants towards you, her shoulders tight, her arms flexed, as if she’s bracing for a punch or a kiss.

you nudge her nose with yours, lifting up ever so slightly to press your lips to her forehead.

the dam breaks — all the pieces falling, her head tipping forward onto your shoulder, her hands wrapping around you tight, and then tighter. you feel yourself being hauled into her lap as she buries her face in the crook of your neck, a sound caught halfway between a gasp and a sob wrenching from her throat.

“f-fuck — shit —”

there’s heat to her skin, the roughness of her bandages, fraying at the edges, the worn-in material of her pants, the damp streaks of her hair tickling your cheek. her breath is uneven as it splays out against your collarbones, and when she finally tugs away to wipe at her face with the back of her hand, looking anywhere but at you, her lashes blink away wet.

“sorry — god this must be real sexy, right? mm — fuck —” she sniffles, shaking out her hand, her other one coming up to caress your cheek. her gaze is unfocused even as she skims her fingers over your skin. “god, you’re so soft. it’s like you’re made of — of marshmallows or something —”

you catch her hand with a tiny sigh, letting your gaze flicker over the bloodied bandages before you rub a thumb along an unmarred patch of skin.

“and you can be too. if you ever wanted to learn.”

she goes quiet then, the bravado bleeding from her as you continue your quiet work of cleaning all her varied injuries, disinfecting the cuts and bandaging the bruises. for the most part, she stays quiet, offering up the bloodied parts of herself for your perusal without resistance. it’s only when you shift back or make to tug away for a second that she jerks forward, resolute in her all-consuming need to keep you close.

“there. that’s about as much as i can do right now,” you say, heaving a sigh as you brush away several strands of black-pink hair from her face, letting your thumb skim over the tattoo on her cheek.

“thanks.” her voice comes out slightly hoarse, her eyes cutting away from you for a second before flickering back.

“i’d say it’s nothing but…” you let your thumb trail down the line of her jaw, tracing over her fluttering pulse as you work your slow way down her neck, “i mean —” you let out a soft laugh, hiccupping slightly as she takes the chance to tug you even closer, pressing you to her, chest to chest, so that you have to brace both your palms against her shoulders just to keep steady. neither of you mentions the fact that her arms are shaking.

“it was a bad night,” she says. and it’s all she offers for a few minutes, but you don’t push her, content to rest against her, let her run circles into your skin with her fingers against the small of your back, her breaths evening out till she looks back up at you with a wry grin.

“let me guess,” you say, linking your fingers behind her neck, “you should see the other guy though, right?” you drop your voice in a mocking imitation; it sounds nothing like her but it manages to draw out a laugh, the sound ricocheting between the pair of you like an echo till it dissipates, leaving the air somehow slightly warmer than before.

“yeah. somethin’ like that,” she murmurs, leaning forward to nudge your nose with hers, eyes going dark.

you cup her cheeks and let her kiss you, lips on lips and gasping breaths, till her fingers are inching up the thin material of your night dress, bunching it up, her thumbs tracing the ridges of your ribs, the weight of her body pressing you back into the plush couch, far too big for the pair of you —

“v-vi — wait —” you gasp away from her, fingers tangled in her oil slick hair, her mouth trailing hot and wet down the side of your neck. she makes a grumbling sound, nipping at your collarbones before resting her chin on your sternum, her hands still grazing further and further up your nightgown.

“c’mon princess — you got to play doctor, so now lemme pay you back proper —“

“vi.” the sharpness to your voice jolts her, and a frown creases her forehead as she blinks up at you with her gunpowder eyes, her fingers now still against your skin. you puff out a breath, pushing yourself back up to cup her cheeks, squeezing them slightly between your palms.

“i don’t want you to ‘pay me back’ for anything.”

hurt and confusion chase each other in a butterfly-wing flutter of emotions across her eyes before she pulls back.

“you don’t want this?”

you fight back the urge the roll your eyes as you sigh, reaching out to tug her back, this time, it’s you crowding into her personal space, leaning in to kiss her solidly on the lips. you feel her go soft against you, her hands cupping the ridges of your ribs once more.

“of course i want this,” you murmur against her lips, “but i — i don’t want it as ‘payback’ for anything. i…” your breath catches as vi leans in to nip at your bottom lip, heat pluming up the back of your neck, cresting into your chest as you blink at her, “i want this… if you want to give it. and — and i want it because — because i want you.”

she makes a strange, pitched noise in the back of her throat as she crushes you to her, her mouth slotting over yours so desperately that your teeth clack, but when she pulls back, she’s shaking her head, resting her forehead against yours with a sigh.

“shit princess — you can’t say shit like that and not expect me to lose my fuckin’ mind — fuck —“

you let out a tinkling laugh, fingers now massaging the cords of muscle at the nape of her neck. a shiver runs through her, her lashes a sweep of ink and shadow.

“relax… i’m not going anywhere. promise,” you remind her even as she tips into you once more, a whine working from her throat into yours as her fingers dig into the supple skin of your waist, dragging you down the length of the couch till you’re pinned beneath her thighs.

she pulls away panting, your own chest a staccato rise and fall. but your eyes are steady when she finds them again and you reach up to trace her cheek.

“when’s the last time you’ve had a bath?”

the question catches her off-guard, making her jerk back slightly, a frown ticking down between her brows.

“what?”

you giggle, “a bath. like, a proper one.”

one of her eyebrows kick up, “you sayin’ i smell or something?”

you sigh, yet again fighting the urge to roll your eyes as you push yourself up onto your elbows, your pink nightgown rucked up to your thighs, your hair falling out of the messy bun you’d twisted it up into earlier that evening.

“no,” you let your voice linger on the word, pinning vi with a look, “but you do taste like the inside of a paint can so.”

her eyes narrow but she lets you wiggle out from beneath her, your fingers trailing down her arm to tug her behind you as you lead her into the master bathroom. the light clicks on and vi scoffs.

“wow.”

“pick a bubble-bath, any bubble-bath — my favorite’s the —”

“rose one?” she finishes, lifting up the nearly empty bottle of light pink bubbly water displayed on a white marble shelf full of multi-colored liquids.

you allow yourself a blush as you shrug, twisting on the taps and testing the temperature, drying off your hand before turning back towards her.

“so i know what i like. sue me.”

vi smirks in honest this time, uncapping the bottle and wafting it beneath her nose.

“mm, delicious.”

you don’t miss the licentious lilt to her voice, nor the flicker of dark, hungry light in her eyes.

you turn away, leaning across the vast bathtub to grab a white can.

“if you think that’s delicious — wait till you see the sugar scrub — oh!”

a pair of arms snakes around your middle, pulling you back against abs and a bandaged up chest. vi’s voice is hot by your ear as she noses into the side of your cheek.

“yeah? is it gonna make me taste less like the inside of a paint can?”

“mhm,” you say, letting your free hand rest naturally over both of hers, the other hand dipping into the sugar scrub to swipe a dollop of sticky white crystals onto her nose. she gasps, jerking back for just a second, going slightly cross-eyed before a mischievous expression eclipses her features and she hoists you up into her arms, holding you suspended over the slowly filling bathtub.

“don’t play this game with me, princess — there’s only one way it’ll end.”

you let out a bright peal of laughter that echoes around the soft marble walls, looping both your arms around her neck.

“try me.”

for a second, she makes as if to drop you, but she pulls you back into her chest at the last second, cradling you against her.

“alright princess, let’s see how good this bath is,” she says, her voice soft as she sets you back down on your feet. you lean up to give her a quick peck before taking the rose-scented bubble bath and pouring it into the swirling water.

by the time the tub is filled, the room is filled with a thin gauze of steam, and when you turn, you find vi standing awkwardly behind you, watching with one hand on her opposite elbow, rocking on the balls of her feet.

“in general,” you say, pushing to your feet, “people take baths with their clothes off.”

vi’s cheeks go blotchy, and her eyes skitter about the room.

“what, i’m just supposed to strip here and —”

her words cut off abruptly as you turn your back on her and tug your night gown from your body, stepping into the bubble-filled water, glancing over your shoulder.

“you coming?”

vi nearly trips out of her tight-fitting pants, tugging haphazardly at the bandages wrapped around her torso. when she finally steps into the water opposite you, she drops down with a soft splash, a loud groan rolling from her as her eyes flutter shut.

when she forces them open again, it’s to find you watching her with your round doe eyes, a sweet, knowing smile perched over your very kissable lips. she wonders at the heat in her cheeks, at the way it prickles at her skin, thinks to herself that it must be the steam, must be the hot water currently melting away at the knots that had braided themselves into her muscles the past few weeks, but she when she feels your calf nudging against her’s she can’t help the way her breath skids inside her chest.

“c’mere,” you motion, and vi blinks at you for a second before shifting till you’re face to face, her hovering uncertainly between your legs before you jerk your chin for her to turn around.

the bathtub is more than big enough to fit the both of you, and for a while, a comfortable quiet settles as she leans her back against your chest, your fingers dancing up the length of her arms, trailing warm water along her shoulders, tangling in the rapidly lightening tips of her hair.

the dark dye runs off her, pluming in the water like spilled ink. you steadily work your fingers through her tresses, smoothing out the knots, occasionally letting your nails scrape against her scalp.

“holy fuck that feels nice…”

you smile, washing as much the dye out as you can before rubbing your thumbs into her shoulders, feeling the tightness coiled there like springs. she grunts, shifting beneath your touch.

“y-you don’t have to do this y’know —” she tries to pull away, only to have you click your tongue impatiently and tug her right back.

“lemme know if i’m hurting you, okay?” is the only thing you say as you continue to massage her shoulders.

she softens, letting out a long sigh and a small chuckle.

“you’d have to try real hard to manage that, sweetcheeks.”

you puff out a tiny breath before digging your thumb into a particularly tender knot, her entire body buckling away from you.

“ow!” she twists around, eyes wide, even as you cast her a look that has her turning back again, but not before she flicks a bit of water at you, her other hand resting easy on your knee, bent next to her hip as she leans against you once more.

“this is the first thing they teach you how to do in a brothel,” you say, your voice light as you slowly work the tightness from each of vi’s muscles, applying gentle pressure, using the bubbles as lubricant.

“wait what?” she tries to turn around again, only for you to pinch lightly at one of her loosening knots, tutting.

“stay still and i’ll tell you the story.”

she stills, though her breath is still short, and the hand that had so recently been lolling against your knee is now stiff, her fingers wrapped around your limb as if to brace herself for what you’re about to say next.

“most people don’t know this, but i’m actually from the undercity — all my earliest memories are of the brothel, the girls there braiding my hair, or letting me sit on their vanities, smearing bits of lipstick on my cheeks as rouge. i think my mother must’ve been one of those girls once but… i never knew her. and it didn’t really matter anyway — i think… i was one of the lucky ones. at least i always had water and a hot bath when i wanted it.”

vi’s fingers tighten on your thigh before she lets up her grip, sighing as she presses her back more firmly against you.

“i’m sorry.”

you shrug, shifting a bit of hair from one shoulder to the other as you continue to dig your meticulous fingers into her weary muscles.

“don’t be. like i said, i was one of the lucky ones. but… i always knew that we were living a hard life. sometimes, one of the girls would vanish and… we’d never know where she went. sometimes, a guest would get a bit too rough and —” you let out a tiny laugh, “well i got pretty good at patching up cuts and bruises.”

you flatten your palms against her skin, running them along the expanse of her shoulders before pushing down her arms to squeeze at her firm biceps.

“there. how’s that feel?”

vi sits up, rolling her neck and shoulders with a loud groan.

“damn. that feels amazing but —” her expression softens as she reaches for you, running tender thumbs along the bend of your cheek.

“you — you don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.”

“i know.” you catch her hand in yours, fingers curling in. all around you, perfumed mist hangs light in the air, hazing out the already diffused lighting. “but i want to.”

vi smiles, nodding.

you take another breath. your interlaced fingers sink into the murky water.

“when i turned thirteen, they started teaching me the ropes — massages first —”

“thirteen,” vi’s voice is harsh in the mist-hung room, the syllables cracking as they reverberate against the slick tiles.

you lilt your head, “how old were you when you ran your first job?”

vi stares, her mouth agape, “b-but — that’s — that’s different!”

“is it?”

she sputters for a few more seconds before deflating, shaking her head, tugging her hand from your grasp to splash water into her face, running both hands over her eyes with a groan.

somehow, she could picture it perfectly, you with your sweet smile and darling eyes, running deft fingers over the shoulders and necks of the unnamed girls at babette’s as they talk you through how to press just so, how to lull someone into your lap, and later, into your bed.

“but like i said… i was one of the lucky ones. really, really lucky — because one day, while i was refilling the water and tidying up the rooms, a guest heard me singing and… he offered me a gig topside.” you let yourself sink into the slowly cooling water, your hair flowing in a soft halo around your shoulders.

vi watches you with an inexplicable expression on her face — half-sadness, half-wonder.

“and the rest, well —” you flick a bit of water towards her; she blinks it away before pulling you into her chest, “you know the rest. or, i mean, i don’t know if you watched that entire 100-questions video —”

“i did.”

vi loops her arms around you, hooking her chin over your shoulder.

and once again, the quiet settles around you both, hanging solid in the air like so much dissipating steam.

“all that to say…” you murmur, turning slightly to face her, searching her eyes with your own, “you don’t have to pretend with me. not with me. not when it’s just the two of us.”

you watch her eyes widen ever so slightly, watch as her lips part and she hesitates over the words hanging at the tip of her tongue.

“thanks,” she finally manages, “for… for telling me this.”

you smile, pulling back to reach for the white can, unscrewing the top.

“okay. sugar-scrub time.”

by the time the pair of you leave the bath, the water’s cooled to a tepid chill at best. you offer vi a fluffy towel, wrapping one around yourself as you pad from the room in search for some clean loungewear.

you return with a large t-shirt and some shorts, which vi eyes for a second before pulling on, her cheeks darkening as she sees you watching her.

“quit looking at me like that…” she huffs as you tug on a loose shirt yourself, pulling on a pair of pink, lace-trimmed panties.

“like what? like you deserve to be looked at?” you ask, voice even as you run a towel over your damp hair. vi crinkles her nose, frowning down at her dirty clothes, piled in a lump on your bathroom floor. you shrug.

“leave it. that’s a tomorrow-problem. c’mon, bed-time.”

vi sighs, ruffling at her hair with the white towel, staring at the gray streaks she leaves behind. she glances up to find you standing by the bathroom door, a hand outstretched behind you, waiting.

she licks her lips before tossing the towel over her pile of clothes and reaching out to take your hand.

your bedroom is dark, lit only by the scatter of city lights from beyond your windows. through it, the city is a pulsing maze of tiny lights and spectral towers. you pause, glancing towards the skyline with a sigh.

“it’s a beautiful view,” vi says, coming up to stand behind you, looping an arm around your waist. you lean into her touch, her warmth, turning slightly to find her eyes just as faraway.

“yeah,” you grin, reaching up to touch her cheek, “you are.”

she turns, blinking at you for a second before your words register. she groans even as you laugh, the sound fizzling through her till her skin prickles with warmth and goosepimples.

“c’mon. bed.” she says, and you grin, allowing yourself to be led to your own bed, pulling back the silken covers, slipping beneath and watching as vi inches in next to you, pillowing her cheek on her arm. you angle your body towards hers, letting out a long, steadying breath.

she mirrors you — one breath, then another, then another.

“thanks, princess,” she says, after a few long moments.

you shuffle forward beneath the blankets, reaching out to wrap an arm around her waist. she closes her eyes, bending her head till you’re nose to nose.

“for what?”

vi lets out a puffed laugh, her lashes fluttering open again.

“for… letting me in.”

you press you lips, your eyes searching her’s. and here, in the dim moon-lit night, her eyes shone like twin stars, bright as firelights. you inch just a bit closer, letting your foreheads press as she shifts an arm to slip around your waist as well.

you hook your ankle over hers, shimmying till you’re hip to hip, your bodies arched into each other, bend for bend. she bites down on her lip, if only to stop it from quivering. you graze your hand up her arm to rest on her cheek.

“you know you’re always welcome here.”

vi laughs, the sound strangely watery as she blinks away the hot prickle biting up the back of her throat. it’s been so long since she’s had anywhere to come back to. and here you are, offering it up to her on a gold-gilded platter.

“yeah?” she says, even though her voice shakes and she has to swallow hard over the lump in her throat as she coaxes your chin up, angling your lips towards hers, “careful… i might actually take you up on that.”

“whatever’s mine is —” your breath hitches high as vi tugs you into her, crushing your lips to hers, a thick groan working it’s way through her chest. you taste salt on your tongue, even as she trails her mouth along your jawline to suck a dark, blossoming hickey into the side of your throat.

“— yours.” you finish, spearing your fingers through her hair to pull her back, your eyes soft in the gathering darkness. vi lets out a tiny, pitched whine as she buries her face in your chest, her body curling in on itself. you rock her against you, letting her grapple her fingers into your nightshirt, clutching you to her even as you sooth your palms over her head and neck, shushing her gently.

“fuck, princess…” she says, her voice slightly muffled, “you’re tryna spoil me rotten, huh.”

you smile, letting her pull back just far enough to catch a glimpse of your face.

“well, someone’s gotta do it.”

vi chuckles, the sound rumbling from her chest to yours.

“yeah well… i’m glad you’re the one angling for the job, sweets.”

you hum, letting your eyes fall shut as vi’s grip on you loosens, and the pair of you sink into the liquid warmth of each others bodies.

vi shifts, tucking you deeper into her arms as you content yourself with sighing into her skin, and it’s an almost automatic spin-click of both your bodies, your limbs settling into and against each other, your torsos turning to just the right spot, just the right angles to fit against one another.

you settle, and feel the world settle around you — time itself seems to breathe and slacken, the evening-shaped seconds and minutes ticking each into its own place, like the teeth on a set of cogs, catching one rung into another, spinning one after the other till everything starts to hum into place.

sleep slips its gossamer gauze over your eyes and vi shifts, her lips ghosting your forehead.

“whatever gods up there that put you in my life…” she whispers, her voice tight, you make a soft noise, like a question, or perhaps a confirmation, leaning up to level your faces once more. your eyes open and vi finds her own reflection staring back at her, the shape somehow softened by your gaze, and she wonders, not for the first time, what you see in her, what you’ve always seen in her, that makes you so…

“there’s already a shrine set up for them in the living room,” you murmur, and for a second, vi stares, her own mind quiet for the first time in a long while. you smile sleepily at her confusion, nuzzling her nose with yours, “what, you didn’t know? i’d been thanking them for you since the first day we met.”

vi makes a sound like a hiccup, shaking her head as warmth bubbles through her, a champagne-colored shake-fizzle-pop of emotions welling up behind her eyes, making her head spin.

“well shit —” she grins, tugging you ever closer, “you’re always one step ahead of me, aren’t you princess?”

you hum, carding your fingers through her hair as she settles against you once more.

“mhm,” a tired little yawn, “and maybe tomorrow morning, if you’re feeling up to it —”

“yeah?” vi’s voice is soft, is sweet, is almost reverent as she kisses the skin of your sternum, her lips lingering right beneath your collarbones.

“i could show you some of the other things i picked up at the brothel.”

vi groans, her fingers digging into your hips at the tantalizing thought.

“mm, you mean other than giving people amazing shoulder massages?”

you laugh, and outside, a large neon sign flickers off, tossing the room into a deeper, richer dark.

“yep. but for now…”

“sleep?” vi asks.

you nod, watching as her eyelids flutter shut, and you let yours do the same. your fingers find hers beneath the blankets; your palms press and she gives you a tiny squeeze. you squeeze back and smile.

“sleep.”

[shouyuus]

popstar!reader shouting out vi at the grammys and her getting camera shy when the camera pans to her putting her on the big screen

omg!!! popstar!reader at the podium after winning AOTY, holding the grammy, doing her normal speech but bc its you, you get a little cheeky with it --

"and of course, we can't forget my lovely girlfriend vi -- without whom --" the camera pans to vi in the audience, sitting in a pristinely tailored dior pantsuit, her face caught in shock as she sees herself up on the big screen -- "without whom there'd be a lot less moaning in all the backing tracks of my songs!"

everyone laughs and claps, the camera pans back to you as you wink, raising your grammy above your head before your eyes flicker back to vi's and you blow her a quick kiss.

the camera flashes back to vi, now with full-on with her face in her hands, but by then, even the tips of her ears are red. another artist leans over to give her a pat on the shoulder, whispering something in her ear. she just shakes her head, but she's smiling when you slip back into your seat next to her -- and even though there's no mic on either of you, the camera picks up on her mouthing --

"oh, you're so gonna get it later."

before dropping a kiss on your cheek. you giggle, dropping the grammy in her lap and making sure that the cams are back on whoever the presenter is next before whispering --

"yeah? gonna help me win another album of the year next year?"

needless to say, the internet is in shambles, the livestream chat is flooded, and the moment is already trending by the time the awards ceremony ends. you get a text from your manager like well. the record company wants to chat about your next album.

three months later, a teaser drops on across all your socials, and it's just an aesthetic shot of what looks like a closeup of the bend of your waist, a woman's hand, delicate pink satin scrunching beneath her fingers and the audio track of -- "a-ah..."

captioned with --

moaning for the main track, coming soon...

[shouyuus]

ok so for your series of vi x popstar! reader I imagine the reader to have songs like Sabrina carpenter.

if you do a hc if the popstar!reader said Vi’s name in her song. like Sabrina’s Juno song how she changes baby to fan’s names.

ex: “oh I hear you knocking vi/violet, come on up.”

oh absolutely -- popstar!reader doing a charity concert for the enforcers (for the troops ✊ukno) and slipping vi's name into one of the songs, or during the "juno pose" section of the song, getting into whatever position vi had her in last night ;)

looking for vi in the crowd but its hard cause the lights are super bright, but you know that she's here today -- she said she'd come!

during set change, you slipping backstage, only to be pulled into a dark corner by a pair of hands, fingers slipping into your hair, a hot mouth slotting over yours --

"mm --"

"hey there, princess -- miss me?"

you flutter your lashes up at the dark shape of her, gasping as you fumble to make sure your mic is turned off. thank god, it is. but you don't have time to think of much before she's kissing you again, cool fingers inching under the hem of your skirt.

"v-vi -- i have to -- change --"

"yeah? but you seemed pretty comfy teasing me up there on stage -- you didn't think i'd just let that slide, did you?"

you whine as she drops her lips to your neck, careless of the sweat and glitter stuck to your skin.

"vi --"

"mm... don't think i like the thought of everyone out there seeing you like this..."

"they -- they don't --"

"but you were posing for them, weren't you? like you did for me last night?"

"th-that was for you! you said -- i knew you'd be here today --"

vi puffs out a soft laugh against your skin as she leans back up to kiss you slow and deep; you feel your knees go weak as she slots a leg between yours, pressing it up till you're shivering against her.

"yeah? were you looking for me?"

you nod, eager and desperate as she tugs you on her thigh, the friction like a drawn match, igniting the coil in your tummy as she presses sloppy kisses to your lips and neck.

"f-fuck vi --"

"mm... oops, i think that's meant for you --" vi loosens her grip and you whine as you fall back onto your heels, breathless, looking around only to find a few flashing lights along the backstage hallway, blinking down the time till you have to be back on stage.

you chew on your lips, weighing the thought of being late to your next set against trying to get vi to finish what she started, but she only tugs you chin up for a brief kiss, patting your hip.

"go on, princess -- get back up there. we'll finish this later. promise."

you huff, casting her one last look before scurrying back towards the stage, running a hand through what you assume is now very sex-rumpled hair, before stumbling back on stage, making an easy joke about losing track of time back there all by your lonesome.

the crowd laughs, but as you glance back towards stage right, you could swear you see a flash of pink hair before the music starts and you have to turn back to the crowd again.

[shouyuus]

vi and i'm thinking about "is your lip gloss really that expensive? i really wanna kiss you now" or something along the lines of THATT i'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure i #NEEDTHAT

wait stop i can totally imagine this for the popstar!reader au where you bring her as your date to one of your red carpet events, and she's in this insane gettup --

her arm wrapped around your waist, posing for the paps (and yeah, she's a little too comfy in front of the cameras now, to the point where she's got her own lil fanbase), till she turns to smile at you, and it's loud as all living fuck on the red carpet, but obviously, there's video cameras everywhere, and later, you've got people who are doing grainy af zooms of her, lipreading, bc she clearly leans in to try and steal a kiss, but you laugh, pressing a palm to her chest, leaning back slightly --

"vi! my lipstick!"

she grins, a sharp, toothy, wolfish thing --

"yeah, but how expensive is it really?"

you crinkle your nose, blinking at her even as a dozen different cameras flash in your direction; the paps are good and they know people will be scrambling for this later.

"it's not the lipstick itself that's expensive --"

vi's grin stretches; she quirks an eyebrow.

"then what's the issue? c'mon, baby... just one tinsy little kiss?" she bats her lashes and you feel your stomach twist tight.

damn her and her stupid, perfect puppy-dog eyes.

you make a show of rolling your eyes.

"one kiss."

vi leans in before you have the chance to pull her away -- and of course, it's not a tinsy little kiss at all. and she makes a show of it -- tugging you in hard enough for you to stumble into her, till you're just off-balance enough for her to dip you back, grinning against your lips as you scrabble at her mcqueen blazer, hung across her shoulder and slipping off at the sudden movement.

"m-mph -- vi --!" you surface gasping, even as she pulls you back up with a wide, satisfied grin. the paps are going crazy, and there's someone ushering you down the red carpet because you're holding up the line. but vi's got your lipstick smeared all over her lips and she makes no move to try and wipe it away.

instead, she just tilts her head and reaches forward to thumb at the corner of your mouth, where you're sure your perfectly done lip is now a kiss-bruised mess.

"mm," she hums, "guess it's not as waterproof as the makeup artist said."

not even a month later, three different makeup brands drop "kiss-proof" lippies, with marketing campaigns centered around cheeky references to "for even the steamiest of red-carpet kisses."