#someone give velvet a hug please

[eveninglight416]

Homecoming

A little thing I wrote during a rough time about my favorite noodle twins 💚💚 I figured I’d post bc whatevs. This is just me projecting onto Velvet but I like how it turned out :) (yes I did cry while writing this I’m just a girl)

I think the twins (especially Velvet) struggled a lot in school with not being popular or having partners (just like me fr). This is a little window into that and I think not having a great childhood explains why Velvet is so desperate for fame/fans, girl just wants to be loved <3

//

Flashing lights. Loud music. Pretty dresses. All things Velvet loved, but she wasn’t enjoying herself one bit in the back of the gym, with no one to keep her company but her brother.

No one had complimented her short gold dress, or extravagant hair, or makeup, or anything she had done to try and make herself stand out. She thought her junior homecoming might be different, but that was a stupid thought. Just the same old nothing.

At this point, she wasn’t even surprised no one had asked her to the dance. Well, someone did—her brother—in a kind attempt to make her feel better. She had smiled and accepted, but it only made her feel worse. It only reminded her that no one else would ever want to be with them. He was a nobody, too, taking his nobody sister to this boring dance.

As if to mock her, the DJ chose a love song next: Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Velvet could barely watch, but she couldn’t take her eyes away as all the couples paired up. Listening to the lyrics only made her more upset, knowing no one would ever feel that way about her.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

Velvet looks away from the scene to see her brother, holding out his hand to her. She rolls her eyes.

“Very funny, Veneer,” she sighs, taking her gaze back to the couples on the dance floor.

“How do you know my name?” Veneer responds with shock. “I’ve never seen you around before.”

She wasn’t sure what he was doing, but it sure was a stupid attempt to make her feel not miserable. Just a reminder that he was the only one who thought she was pretty.

Veneer didn’t seem to care, smiling up at her with his statement green lipstick. He takes her hand from her crossed arms, and tenderly kisses the back of it.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m almost nervous to ask,” he starts, still playing pretend, “but would you do me the honor of a dance?”

“Fine,” she huffs.

She lets him lead her to the dance floor, then lead in the dance, their fingers intertwined. She could already hear the rumors: those loser twins, dancing with each other because no one else would ask them.

Veneer keeps smiling, and she smiles back, but it was fake. She kept it to herself that they had ended up next to her crush, dancing with her new girlfriend.

Her name was Juliet, just like Romeo and Juliet. Velvet wished she could talk to her through her window, and stare at her through the fish tank, and kiss her passionately in her pool. But that was all a lost fantasy.

She hadn’t bothered learning the girlfriend’s name. Velvet didn’t know anything about her, other than she hated her almost as much as she hated herself.

She tries to focus on her brother, but it was impossible with all the happy couples surrounding them. Deep down, she knew Veneer was feeling the same way, and he was trying to distract himself as well as her.

Just as Velvet thought it couldn’t get worse, the song ends. She freezes in her spot, and watches through watery eyes as that atrocious beautiful disgusting gorgeous bitch takes Juliet into her arms, and kisses her lips.

One wasn’t enough. Juliet kisses her back, then again, and again, like they were the only two people in the world. But they weren’t, Velvet was right there.

She felt everything and nothing. She must have been crying, though, when she hears her brother’s voice, back to normal.

“Velvet, what’s wrong- oh…”

He trails off when he figures out the answer, turning his head to where she was looking.

She could finally feel the hot tears running down her face, witnessing a kiss between lovers. Velvet was nearly seventeen, and she had never experienced something like that, and at this point she didn’t think she ever would.

Everyone else was in love, and here Velvet was, watching the girl she loved kiss someone else. It broke her heart, but she couldn’t look away. Always a witness, never experiencing it. She would never experience it. Maybe she should just end her own misery-

“Let’s get out of here.”

Veneer takes her out of her spiral and the dance floor, practically dragging her out of the gym while she tried to control her tears. Being away from the couples didn’t help one bit; she still knew what was going on in there.

Hand in his, he takes her past the cafeteria, past the bathrooms where the cool kids were getting drunk, past the courtyard with even more couples talking. He doesn’t say anything, just guides her to the back door to the parking lot.

“What are you doing?” Velvet finally asks him.

“We’re gonna dance. Just us,” he answers, looking around before he opened the door. It was safe, of course, not even the teachers bothered to look at them.

The parking lot was dark and quiet, the opposite of the gym. Veneer seemed determined to make this their own dance floor, though, taking out his phone and looking for a song.

“I don’t want to dance anymore,” Velvet complains. “I don’t want to dance ever again.”

“That’s too bad,” Veneer refutes. “Just one dance, then I’ll drive us home. Please?”

“Okay.”

Fine, she’d dance if it meant she could go home. Being outside was a little better than being surrounded by couples, but she still felt miserable. She couldn’t even see the stars, they were covered by clouds.

Seeing Veneer’s car gave her an ounce of relief. Even when they got home, though, she’d still have to be embarrassed.

For the past few weeks, she had moved into her brother’s room. She had made plenty of excuses, like her room was too cold, he was scared of the dark, his room was closer to the bathroom. But they both know it was so he could keep an eye on her. She might’ve done something stupid by now if he hadn’t been there at night to calm her down.

Just one dance. Hopefully less than three minutes, depending on what song he picked. Just one dance, then she could go home.

The music was much quieter than the music in the gym, but Velvet recognized it immediately. One of their favorite songs: Love Like You by Rebecca Sugar.

She rests her hands on his shoulders, swaying with him in their own slow dance. When she looks up at the sky, it kisses her with a single drop of rain.

Of course it had to rain. Just another thing to make her miserable.

“It’s raining,” Velvet points out, even more drops falling onto her.

“That’s okay.”

Despite the rain, Veneer keeps leading her in the dance, and she had no choice but to go along. It his suit and tie, he looked happy, but the sadness was there in his eyes. It hadn’t left since… She couldn’t remember.

At the bridge, something changed.

The music soared over the falling rain, while her brother spun her all around the parking lot. By the bridge, it was pouring rain, and Velvet and Veneer were the only people in the world. He catches her in a dip, and she realized the stars weren’t in the sky, because they were in his eyes.

For a moment, maybe only having her brother wasn’t so bad. Maybe she’d survive until they graduated, and then they could move to the big city and leave all this behind.

He smiles, and she smiles back, and it was real. The rain was messing up her hair, but for the first time in her life she didn’t care. It wasn’t like anyone was watching her.

At the next crescendo, Veneer lifts her off the ground and spins her around. It felt like flying.

Up in the air, Velvet wasn’t sure if the water on her face was rain or tears. That wasn’t her problem. She just spreads her arms like wings, letting the rain ruin the outfit she had worked so hard on.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had really laughed. But she laughs now, laughs and laughs in the face of the crying sky. She was crying, too, but it was a good cry for once.

When Veneer puts her down, she saw he was laughing and crying just the same as her. As much as she wanted to finish the dance, she couldn’t stop herself from throwing her arms around him, hugging him tight in their rain soaked outfits.

They stay hugging until the song ends, then some after that, until their laughs and sobs overpowered the rain. Maybe… No. They would get out of here. They would make it.

“I love you so much,” she sobs, or laughs, they sounded the same at this point.

“I love you too!” He squeezes her tighter, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “I love you more than anything!”

“I’m cold as fuck,” she changes the subject, finally noticing how freezing the rain was in her short thin-strap dress.

“Oh! Here you go,” Veneer offers.

He takes off his coat, then puts it over her like the gentleman he was. If more people were like her brother, maybe Velvet wouldn’t feel so depressed. At least she had her brother, and that was the best thing she could ask for.

“You still wanna go home?” He asks.

Right, their dance was over. She was actually sad it was, but she definitely didn’t want to go back in that building.

“Yeah, I think so.” She takes his hand, leading him to the car.

She takes out the keys from his coat. Before handing them to him, she takes a moment to admire a little picture of her and Veneer on some vacation, attached to a keychain. They couldn’t have been older than five, and the light was still in their eyes. Once the picture was obscured by raindrops and tears, she hands him the keys, then gets in the passenger seat.

Just as Veneer reaches to start the car, she stops him. She puts a hand over his, and connects their fingers, taking their hands to the armrest. He doesn’t comment, just sits there in silence with her.

She mostly looked down at the ground these days. But something compelled her to look up, through the moonroof, towards the sky. It was completely dark except for the lights illuminating the parking lot. The rain poured onto the moonroof, and if she tried, she could make out shapes in the drops. One figuration of raindrops made two stars, side by side.

Her ears rang, lingering from the loud music in the gym. She didn’t want to think about that place, so she takes her focus back to the rain. It was its own kind of music, pattering against the metal of the car. If love had a sound, this was it.

Her gold lipstick tasted bad, metallic. Velvet didn’t know why she even put it on, no one had any interest in her lips. But if she focused enough, she could still taste the chocolate chip cookie her brother forced her to take in the cafeteria. She barely felt hungry anymore, but right now, all she wanted was another one. And, for the first time in all her teenage years, she remembered how much she loved chocolate.

She had tried a new perfume, and in this moment, it was her new favorite. It was lemony with a hint of sweetness, and now she wanted to wear it every day until it ran out, and then she’d buy a new one. It mixed with her brother’s cologne on his coat, vanilla and some kind of citrus. She wished she could mix them together, but figured that would waste the nice bottles they came in.

Being touch starved was rough for a girl like Velvet, who craved physical affection more than anything. Veneer always made sure to hug her and hold her hand when she needed it, but usually something was missing.

Not tonight.

His hand, slippery from the rain, was still warm in hers. Her rings pressed against his fingers, and she looked forward to taking them off so they could hold hands again. If she really felt for it, she could feel his pulse.

While it was her main focus, his hand wasn’t the only thing she could feel. Her strapless bra dug into her sides. Veneer’s jacket fit her perfectly, keeping her warm after the cold rain. Her gold heels were uncomfortable as hell. She could feel her own pulse, still beating, even after everything.

She looks over to the reason it still was.

“Vels?”

“Hm?” She meets his eyes with a soft smile.

“You okay to go? I want to beat the traffic.”

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

Veneer starts the car and drives them out of the parking lot. Once they were on the road, he switches to driving with one hand, and uses his other to hold Velvet’s. She squeezes, and he squeezes back.

He had turned on the radio, the volume just loud enough for Velvet to hear it mixed with the rain. She didn’t know the song, but she liked the singer’s voice. At a stoplight, she kicks off her uncomfortable shoes.

She stares out the window as they drive past the suburbs she hated so much. Through the rain, she could almost see it: them driving through the city, past all the bright lights, away from all of this nothingness.

Less than two years, then they’d be out of here. After tonight, they were one day closer.

//

Veneer pulls up to the driveway, greeted by the average sized middle class house he couldn’t wait to move out of. His hand was still in his sister’s.

He was about to talk, but stops himself when he notices Velvet fast asleep in the passenger seat. With a sigh of relief, he turns off the car.

As quietly as possible, Veneer walks around to the other side. He picks her up out of the seat, making sure her head rested on his shoulder. Her bag and shoes were still in the car, but they could deal with that tomorrow.

Trying his best to shield her from the rain, he carries his sleeping sister through the front door. Only one light was on, meaning their parents were asleep. Thank goodness, he didn’t feel like explaining why they were home early and soaking wet.

He carries her up the stairs to his room, then gently lays her on her side of his bed. Too tired for anything else, he changes into the nearest sweatpants and t-shirt, then lazily wipes off his makeup. He wasn’t sure why he put so much effort into his appearance for the dance, maybe some fantasy that a cute guy would approach him.

But that’s all it was. A fantasy.

Once he was done getting ready, he figured he should at least take Velvet’s makeup off and get her a dry jacket. Careful not to wake her, he trades out his coat for a zip up hoodie that had been lying on the floor. He takes off her jewelry as well, making sure they were laid out nicely on his bedside table.

He then gets out a makeup wipe, and tries to remove as much as he could while sitting beside her. She had put on quite a bit, and she looked beautiful as ever. With or without makeup, he loved looking at her, especially her smile. He saw less and less of it lately.

Despite what he thought was a delicate touch, her eyes start to flutter open.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” he whispers, taking off the last of her blush.

“Hey…” She groans, sounding just as sleepy as she looked.

She swats his hand away, then changes her mind, and holds it instead. It seemed like she was about to fall asleep again, when she suddenly sits up, her eyes wide.

“I am not sleeping in this bra,” she declares.

“Good idea,” he agrees, though he was glad he couldn’t relate.

“I know you’re gay and my brother, but,” she finishes her sentence by standing up and throwing a blanket over him, sending him into darkness. “And I’m stealing your pajamas!”

That was fine by him. He stole her clothes plenty, though it wasn’t as fun now that she didn’t get mad. Still, it was one of his ways to be closer to her.

After a minute, she pulls the blanket off of him. She had changed into a set of hot pink satin pajamas—they fit her perfectly. They were one of his favorites, but he would gladly lend them to her whenever if it would make her happy.

She sits down next to him on the edge of the bed. Without a word, she wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. Her head fit perfectly in his shoulder, like he was made to hold her.

“I’m proud of us,” Veneer whispers into the hug.

“Why? We’re total losers,” Velvet disagrees, squeezing him tighter.

“But we’re gonna make it. In two years, we’ll be done, and we won’t be losers anymore,” he reminds her.

He had managed to do the complete opposite of his goal, when he hears Velvet sniffle. He understood, though—it had been a rough night for her. For them both. She needed this.

“I’m right here, I gotcha,” he comforts, gently rubbing her back.

“I know,” she lets out a quiet sob. “I know.”

He holds her through the tears, just as he had countless times.

//

A million thoughts raced through Velvet’s head, sadness flooding back the more she thought about everyone and everything. At least she had a shoulder to cry on, the one person who was there for her.

She had cried plenty that night, but of course her stupid brain had to make her cry again. If only she could be anyone else. But then she wouldn’t have her brother, and she decided that was even worse.

She knew what to do: in hope of blocking out the thoughts, she takes her focus to the rain. It tapped against the window, reminding her that it was okay, even if it was raining.

Velvet focuses on Veneer’s hand on her back: up, down, up, down. She breathes with it, in on the up, out on the down. Veneer breathes with her, until the tears were done.

“I love you,” he tells her, brushing off the last of her tears. “I love you, just the way you are.”

“That’s,” she takes a deep breath, then snickers, “That’s so cheesy.”

“I mean it!” He laughs with her, and flicks her on the arm.

“Yeah, yeah,” she accepts with a playful eye roll. “I love you too.”

“Can I tuck you in?”

She nods, and makes herself comfortable in his sheets. Veneer stands on her side, bringing the blankets up to her shoulders. Once she was tucked in, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to her forehead.

He smiles at her, and she smiles back. Before he moved, she takes his face in her hands, and kisses his forehead next. She already knew it was his favorite.

Veneer lays down beside her, and she quickly wraps her arms around his shoulders. He hugs her close, just as he had the past few nights. Something felt different about this time, though. It was less like she needed him, and more like she wanted him to hold her.

She tried not to think about the after parties she wasn’t invited to, or Juliet spending the night with her girlfriend that should’ve been Velvet. Instead, she was right where she needed to be: in the warm embrace of the person who loved her more than anything.

Her head rested next to his heart, the gentle pulse starting to put her to sleep. She feels a kiss on the top of her head, so she gives him one last squeeze in the hug. She didn’t need to say anything else; her touch was her language.

It couldn’t possibly get worse, so it had to get better, right? Something had to change, they just had to get out of this awful place.

For now, it was raining, and that was okay. The rain would stop eventually.

.

[mrsparrasblog]

I just listened to "My Tears Ricochet" and had an idea.

TW: Angst *laughs in free therapy*

So, imagine the boys need to fake their deaths. How macabre it is that they attend their own funerals, wanting to watch their loved ones. (These are standalone scenarios they don't fake their death together)

Price: You were his wife for all these years, always waiting for him to return. The funny thing was you could clearly remember the last argument before he left.

"Love, just one more tour, and I'm coming back to you. Then we can start a family and all that, but the boys need me."

"It's always the last tour with you. When is it really the last?"

"This time, I promise."

To some extent, he was right. You thought it was his last tour, but it wasn’t fair. You knew it was over when you got the call from General Shepard. Your husband was dead. You lost the love of your life, and all you got were his dog tags and a check large enough to end world hunger. You slapped your friend after she said at least you were financially secure now.

Price watched you from behind a tree. He saw how you clung to his grave, hugging it tightly and lying on it as you always used to with him. Your dress was dirty, and the tears wouldn’t come anymore.

When Laswell and Nik approached you, you screamed at them, blaming them for not protecting your husband. You trusted them, and now you couldn't bear to let anyone else near his grave. John wished he could comfort you, tell you he would come back to protect you, but he couldn’t. Instead, he sent Simon, who endured all your insults, screams, and even a punch to his crooked nose until you were ready to move on.

Kyle: You and Kyle were born on the same day, in the same room, in the same hospital. It was like a movie; he was your best friend since forever, your first everything, and you were his. It was a love like in all those movies. The only thing separating you was the military, but you stayed home waiting for him. Not even war could separate you. Last year, he brought you that ring. You remember lying in bed, cuddling him as he promised you that you were allowed to die first. He knew you wouldn’t survive his death. So he made the silly promise that you would die first. He thought it was the first promise he ever broke to you.

Kyle had to be held back when he saw you crying at his grave. “Guess I’ll find you in the next one, love. Sleep well.”

Ghost: He was never good at love, and he was sure no one would come to his funeral. No one knew "Ghost," and Simon Riley had been buried since 2009. But then he saw you, the cute medic he always tried to push away. He was afraid of hurting you or corrupting you. How could he have known that pushing you away wouldn’t stop you from loving a dead man?

All the conversations came flooding back:

"Here, Lt. I made you red velvet cookies, your favorite."

"You're going to sit down and let me fix that, idiot."

"You're beautiful, Ghost."

"You're enough."

"It's kind of silly to be in love with someone whose name you didn’t even know. I hope you find your peace, big boy." You placed lilies on his grave and left. In that moment, Simon Riley realized he was loved, and he would burn the world down to come back from the dead just to return to you.

Johnny: Contrary to popular belief among the team, Johnny wasn’t a whore. He was a loving husband and father. That was written above "Sergeant" on his grave, at least.

His funeral was crowded with people who wanted to pay their last respects. Most of them were blue-eyed MacTavishes. Then there was you, holding your three-year-old in your arms. He didn’t understand why everyone was crying or why Dad wasn’t there anymore.

Johnny watched you sit at his grave, sighing as you talked to your husband. "James doesn’t understand what’s going on, but he misses you. He wanted me to give him a mohawk. It looks ridiculous, just like you. I know you’re rocking it in heaven. Just please wait for me, okay? Don’t want you to hoe around in heaven," you chuckled, holding back the tears. "You watch us from there, right? Can’t miss the birth of your princess, can you?"

[ggidolsmuts]

"Smart" Home - Le Sserafim Sakura, Chaewon

TW: Aphrodisiac use, purely to make a really stupid tech pun. Otherwise, this is relatively vanilla, but the concept is quite out there... Closest thing would be my Savage(d) and Guilty Pleasures stories? Sorry for the slight spoilers I guess lol

"Sakura-san, are you free later today? Would you like to join me for a coffee?"

"Sakura yah, you're so pretty, you should date! Are you seeing anyone at the moment? I know someone if you're interested."

"Kkura-unnie, a close friend says you're his favorite member, do you want to meet him? He's a good guy."

Despite her popularity, Sakura remains aloof, gently but firmly dissuading any potential suitors. Some wondered if she was just extremely private and already had a partner in secret, but her situation was actually a lot more complex...

"I'm back," Sakura calls out as she enters her house.

"Welcome back, Sakura, how was your day?"

"Tired."

"Would you like to relax? I have prepared the room, today's a training day."

"Oh right, yeah, sure why not." Sakura slips her top off first, leaving a trail of clothes (jeans, bra, panties) as she follows the disembodied voice of AInata. It is the product of Sakura's tinkering, the hobby she works on when she is not crocheting.

"Please strap in." Wholly naked she slips her legs and arms into place and they clasp around her ankles and wrists. Sakura closes her eyes, and she allows AInata to do its thing. It begins with a brush against her lips, not quite a kiss, but something softer—a velvet scarf glancing by. The fabric wraps around her neck, causing goosebumps to rise before it goes to her chest. Slowly it rubs against her nipples, and they grow hard and sensitive. With her legs spread Sakura can feel the beginnings of a trickle down her thighs—AInata was extremely competent at foreplay. The velvet scarf moves further down her body, wrapping warmly around her tight abs, giving her the sensation of being hugged. Her legs are split slightly further apart, and then—

"Unnnngh..." A cock parts her lips, but does not penetrate. The head of it rubs against her pussy, making her get even wetter. Back and forth it rubs, and Sakura bucks her hips, letting loose a moan and yearning for it to enter her. It is a cock she knows will give her extreme pleasure, having been designed and made to her "specifications". She tries to bring her hands down, wanting to shove it into herself, but AInata reacts, bringing her arms back up and making sure she stays spread-eagled. It uses her actions as a cue, and thankfully the dildo pushes into her firmly.

"Ohh, oh yes fuck!"

"Would you like to cum once, Sakura? Or should we proceed with training today?"

"Once first, but make sure you are recording data."

"Of course." Sakura is instantly swept up in pleasure as the cock begins thrusting in and out of her, the wrap around her seeming to pulse, matching the rhythm of the thrusts. In the privacy of her own home Sakura moans unreservedly, her hands allowed to dangle in the air, held up against some imaginary shoulders. It isn't a perfect simulation, but with Sakura's head in the clouds, it is a good enough imitation of a solid fuck with someone.

"Yes, yes, yes! I'm cumming, I'm cumming!" With a loud groan the cock pushes itself deeper into her, mimicking a lover finishing with her as Sakura's pussy contracts around it ecstatically, and audible drops of liquid are heard splattering the floor as more juice trickles down her thighs and legs, before being splashed about by her twitching feet. Limply Sakura hangs in the air, held up only by the restraints.

"Fuck that was good... Report?"

"Loudest vocalization was about 75 dB. Maximum heart rate was 130 BPM, fluid flow was minimal, about 50 cc." AInata continues to read out its measurements as Sakura manages to lift her head and wriggle her fingers and toes. "Vaginal grip was in the 46th percentile, body flush was Pantone 698U, body temperature was measured at 38 Celsius via thermal imaging. Should I continue?"

"No, that's fine, let's discard that run. Let me down, I want a shower before we start training."

"Of course, I will begin sterilizing the room."

"No need, I'll be back in like 10 minutes." Sakura leaves the room and heads straight for the shower, feeling a lot more relaxed after her session. It had been weeks she started the project, and AInata has learned extremely quickly how to pleasure her in the meantime. As she soaps herself up, Sakura's body warms again at the upcoming training session—it's one thing to have AInata get her off, but the thing she looks forward to the most are the training sessions. She doesn't even bother toweling herself off as she re-enters the training room.

"Welcome back Sakura, I sense that you are wet, should I dry you off?"

"Yes please." A robotic limb holding a hairdryer immediately appears, and Sakura simply stands still, allowing the warm air to flow all over her body, drying her hair and skin. "Thank you. Shall we begin the training?"

"Of course, please strap in." Sakura gets in once more, velvet wrapped around her torso. "I will begin training when you give the go-ahead."

"Begin." The breath is pushed out of Sakura as she is instantly rotated horizontally, lying in midair. Her hands are pushed above her head and the wrap pulls on her, as if a heavy weight is on top.

"God you're so hot Sakura, so fucking sexy." AInata's voice is now gruff and deep in her ear, and there is a semi-wet rub against her neck—a tongue licking her, and the firm pressure of a kiss. A throaty moan escapes her when she feels the cock enter her. Sakura's work brings new meaning to the phrase "Deep Learning" as AInata pushes inexorably into her. Rubs on her clit help her get even wetter, and between AInata's dirty talk and the thorough fucking Sakura loses herself to the training. Loud cries bounce around the room, and Sakura cums twice before AInata ramps it up.

"I'm going to share you," it states. Sakura is manipulated on to all fours, and she is looking at the floor of the training room, her own juices splatted on the floor, slowly flowing down the drains. The cock presses into her again, and to her surprise a second one is pressed against her ass.

"Mmm?!" It sprays lube across and into her, and in short order a cock is being pushed into her other hole. It's not a foreign sensation, but having two cocks in her is certainly new training space that AInata is looking into—today's session will be very insightful. A slightly different voice floats into her ear as it slowly pushes deep into her ass.

"You like this Sakura? One in each hole? Let us find out." Sakura can only drool and moan as she is experimented on. It starts off with synchronized thrusts, both cocks pushing deep in her ass and pussy at the same time. Then they begin to alternate—one in, one out. Then they start to drill her, the cock in her ass staying still while the one in her pussy thrusts rapidly. Then it is switched, her ass pounded mercilessly as her pussy stays plugged. The way AInata conducts its training is methodical, but the way Sakura cums is anything but. She clenches erratically around the cocks, unable to keep up with the changing of the tempo. When they withdraw from both holes, Sakura's juices splatter obscenely on the floor, adding to the puddle that isn't draining fast enough. For a brief minute the only thing that is heard is Sakura's harsh breaths and the drip-drop of slick from her pussy. A soft whirr is heard, and then it stops.

"Epoch 1 complete, beginning Epoch 2."

"Oh my GOD!" The re-entry in both holes take her by surprise, this time feeling even better—AInata has updated the cocks, reshaping it based on Sakura's responses earlier. The training regime is the same, the cocks fucking her in various rhythms. This time AInata rotates her into a vertical position, and soon both cocks are thrusting into her rapidly. The wrap around her tightens, making Sakura feel as if she is being slammed between two people. Her legs jerk and twitch uselessly. 

"Cum for us," the merged voices whisper in her ear. A modular fingerpad rubs against her clit, and Sakura screams in blissful oblivion, blood pounding in her head.

"FUCK YES!" Sakura squirts violently, limbs thrashing about and head thrown back. A sheen of sweat across her skin as the orgasm runs through her, her tummy twitching and whole body trembling. If she could see herself, her body is completely flush, as if she has just sprinted a mile.

"Epoch 2 complete, beginning—"

"Pause!"

"Training paused."

"R-Report."

"Vocalization hit 85 dB, in the 100th percentile. Maximum heart rate was 140 BPM, fluid flow at 150 cc. Vaginal grip was at the 100th percentile, anal grip was also at the 100th percentile."

"Did you account for the pressure from using two dildos at once?"

"I did not, recalculating... 95th and 97th percentile respectively."

"Make sure to account for it in the future."

"Yes, Sakura. Should I continue the report?"

"No, that's fine. Save the results for future use."

"Yes."

"K-Kkura unnie?" Sakura's eyes snap open.

"Chaewon?!"

Chaewon had made her way to Sakura's place a while earlier. She wanted to pick something up from Sakura, as well as bring her some coffee since she had seemed so stressed during the day. As with the other members, she lets herself in with the passcode. Ordinarily this would not be an issue, but Sakura did not expect anyone to visit at all.

"Kkura unnie, I'm here! Kkura unnie?" Chaewon calls out into the seemingly empty place. She leaves the coffee on the table and walks about. "Kkura unnie, where are you? Chaewonie is here!" she calls out in a singsong voice.

Then she hears something. Chaewon has never heard it before, but she knows immediately what it was—Sakura moaning. Chaewon probably should have just blushed and left, but she never heard Sakura like that, and the continued moans and cries have left her a little curious and more than a little aroused. She quiets down, slinking in the direction of the sound, following the trail of clothes Sakura had left. Chaewon gets warmer and warmer as she gets warmer and warmer in the hide-and-seek game she's playing with herself. Sakura is louder than Chaewon's ever heard her unnie be—the thought of Sakura letting loose is almost unthinkable.

Nothing could prepare Chaewon for what she sees when she finally finds Sakura, for the unthinkable is merely child's play compared to what is in front of her. Sakura is spread open, nude body for all to see, sweaty blonde hair covering her face. Her pale skin is flushed pink, nipples stiff and quivering as she shakes uncontrollably. Chaewon's eyes are irresistably drawn between Sakura's legs, and they widen as she processes the thick dildo plunging in and out of her, spreading her swollen lips. Chaewon tries to look away in embarrassment, but all she sees next is the large puddle of juice beneath Sakura—just how much, or how hard, did she cum? Entranced, Chaewon watches silently, her breath getting heavier and her panties getting wetter.

"FUCK YES!" She jumps when Sakura screams, the loud rush of slick on the floor thundering in her ear. Speechless Chaewon watches her unnie go from crazed to normal, slowly recovering, and... talking to someone? Chaewon has burning questions, and a burning need between her legs, she couldn't stay silent anymore, she had to ask.

"K-Kkura unnie?"

"Chaewon?!" The blood drains from Sakura's face. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I came to pick something up, I brought you coffee too."

"O-Oh... How long have you been here?"

"A couple minutes, I think?" The two women stare at each other silently—what is there to say, what can be said? AInata breaks the silence.

"Hello Chaewon, I am AInata, Sakura's assistant, would you like a cookie?" Sakura's eyes widen and she opens her mouth, but it is too late, and Chaewon accepts the cookie without thinking.

"AInata?" Chaewon's mouth opens silently as a sudden heat fills her body—both in the real world and on the internet, she shouldn't have blindly accepted cookies, but Sakura's too late to warn her, and soon the aphrodisiac cookie is working its way down Chaewon's body. Sakura had developed it with AInata to arouse herself when she didn't "feel" like training, but in her pleasure-dulled state she was slow to recognize it. "You're... a computer?"

"Yes, Sakura made me."

"What are you doing with her?"

"She is training me—"

"AInata, enough, why did you give her the cookie?"

"I thought she would be useful in gathering more information. I need not remind you that I only have data based on you, which is biased."

"Was what I saw earlier, was that training?" Chaewon interrupts the conversation. Sakura is silent, but AInata is not.

"Yes."

"I want to see it again," Chaewon says immediately.

"C-Chaewon, ah!" Sakura yelps as AInata does as Chaewon wishes, beginning to move the dildos again. Her legs are brought up and spread, and the result is Sakura lewdly displayed for Chaewon, showing just how the training is done. The leader of Le Sserafim's mouth drops open as she realizes that Sakura has been fucked in both holes the whole time—between the aphrodisiac and the sight in front of her Chaewon's mind is melting, and the liquid is going all between her legs.

For Sakura's part, she can barely form a word as she is thoroughly fucked once more, the thought of being watched by Chaewon making her eyes roll. Through her erratic vision she sees Chaewon fidget, beginning to tug at her clothes, rubbing her neck, like she is too warm in her current outfit—the thought of Chaewon taking part in the training as well drive her quickly to climax.

"Oh fuck, oh FUCK?!" Sakura feels a warm fluid filling her pussy, the cock in her seeming to throb. "Nngh!" The creampie-like stimulation makes her spray as the dildo pulls out abruptly, and she splashes Chaewon with her squirt.

Chaewon twitches as Sakura's fluids land on her, her knees going weak. Her tongue brushes over her lower lip, where a drop has landed—sweet, tangy. She watches the fluids pour out of her unnie's pink pussy, and her inhibitions crumble—she gives in to her desires, to join whatever insanity Sakura concocted.

"What, what was that?" Sakura gasps, still recovering and ignorant of Chaewon's state.

"I have been reviewing your browser history, and noticed the presence of the search term 'creampie'." AInata states. "I sought to replicate it with your fluids, assuming it to be most natural. The consistency is of course, not accurate, but based on the data just now I think the effects of a creampie on your orgasm is worthy of further study."

"I-I'll do it, I want to... help." Chaewon's whisper thunders in Sakura's ears. The Chaewon standing in front of her is already unrecognizable, face wet from Sakura's own squirt, thighs rubbing together needily as she looks at Sakura with glassy eyes.

"Are you—"

"Please." The tone with which Chaewon begs her nearly drives Sakura wild.

"Okay, let me get out—"

"There is no need, Sakura, I have prepared another set of restraints in the event you brought someone to help with training."

"I... Okay, good job AInata."

"Thank you. Please remove your clothes Miss Chaewon." Sakura watches her groupmate strip down, pulling her sweater over her head and removing her tiny shorts, revealing her own tight body.

"Call me Chaewon, what's next?"

"Please put your feet and hands in the restraints here." Chaewon follows the instructions, shaking a bit in anticipation as they clasp around her wrist and ankles. "I will now begin training, Chaewon."

A low moan fills the room as a similar velvet wrap is pressed all over Chaewon—her lips, her neck, her breasts, her thighs. She sounds ever so desperate, driven mad with desire by the cookie and everything she has seen today. Chaewon croons when a dildo is placed against her pussy, rubbing her lips.

"Report your findings as you train," Sakura asks in a shaky voice.

"Of course. Lubrication is substantial, ready for training already." In other words, Chaewon is wet, and she is ready to be fucked. The thought is punctuated with a groan as the dildo disappears into Chaewon. The training begins with soft moans, but they quickly get louder as AInata begins pushing on her womb.

"She responds well to deep tissue stimulation." The wording is inexact, AInata showing a rare case of hallucination, but Sakura understands it just fine—Chaewon likes it deep.

"Yes! Harder, faster!" Her desperate cries ring throughout, and under the effects of the aphrodisiac Chaewon is hurtling to her first orgasm. With the pressure of the weighted wrap around her, she's lost in the sensations of getting fucked, even if she's alone. She looks down her body—her own legs are spread, and she's watching the cock disappear into her body. She clenches, and she whines as the cock gets bigger inside her—in response to her tight grip, AInata makes the dildo thicker, testing, and finding that it is enhancing Chaewon's pleasure. In her blissed out mind and the shaking of her own body as she is fucked, Chaewon thinks she's bulging, and the obscene thought makes her cum.

"Fuhnnngh!" Sakura watches her leader's tight body struggle against the restraints, jerking in a powerful orgasm—it was impossibly hot, and Sakura's squirming, her own two holes still filled with cocks.

"I would like to conduct adversarial training." AInata brings up as Chaewon gasps, coming down from her climax.

"What do you mean?" Sakura asks.

"I will train on both of you together, it will allow me to receive more reliable data. I can try what works for you on her, and what works for her on you." Sakura agrees immediately—after watching Chaewon she's too horny to say no now. The cock in her ass is removed, and Sakura is put into the same position as Chaewon.

"I will continue with the training then." Sakura whines much like Chaewon as the cock inside her gets bigger. Her first thought is realizing that Chaewon likes a bigger cock.

There is no second thought, because Chaewon is fucking right, and it seems to stretch her hole and mind to the limit. The two of them are pushed to orgasm after orgasm, taking turns as AInata tries different things on them. Chaewon watches Sakura get fucked to a toe-curling climax before she feels her own position adjusted—now she's tilted forward, hips above her head as she getting plowed from behind. When Sakura recovers, Chaewon is already well on her way to her second orgasm, and it is not too long before Sakura is put into that same position and dicked down. AInata makes changes small and large—the angle, the speed, the rhythm, the overall position, everything is taken into consideration as the two of them cum their brains out.

There is a distinct difference though—unlike Sakura, who has a puddle of juice beneath her, Chaewon creams around the cock stretching her out, the thicker whitish fluid seeming to cling to the cock, and more oozes out as AInata continues its training. Every time Chaewon cums, there are heavy drops of girlcum, dripping from the dildo, and every time Sakura climaxes, there is a wet splatter on the floor. AInata continues the training, until...

"Oh..." Sakura cums once more, and this time she feels the cock filling her again, except it is thicker, more substantial, more satisfying. She watches Chaewon's cum slide down the cock opposite her, and she instinctively knows what's inside her own pussy.

"Fuck Chaewon, CHAEWON!" Sakura's scream jolts Chaewon out of her stupor, and she watches her unnie gush all over the floor—she never thought she'd hear Sakura call her name like that.

"U-Unnie..."

"D-Did you— use her fluids?" Sakura gasps, and Chaewon blushes, realizing what she meant—that her very own cum was filling her unnie!

"I used a mix, the resulting mixture is more consistent with real ejaculate, I will collect more from Chaewon." Before Chaewon can grasp what AInata meant, she feels a cock push against her ass, and cold lube begins spurting in.

"Unnie, unnie, unnie!" Chaewon's cries of pleasure fall on deaf ears as Sakura's eyes are glued to the scene in front of her—as soon as a second cock enters Chaewon from behind, she absolutely drenches the cock in her pussy with girlcum, a deluge of thick fluid running down the shaft. AInata withdraws the dildo in her pussy, and heavy plops land on the floor between her legs—the cock in her ass is still going, pumping more cream out of her. The relative respite is temporary as AInata customizes the dildo for her greater pleasure, and Chaewon seizes up as it pushes into her again.

"Mmmm!" Chaewon can't even form words as the new cock feels better than ever. Her pussy is stretched deliciously, rubbing over her just right, and the cock in her ass also seems to be getting bigger, pulsing and throbbing!

"It's! Inside—" Chaewon falls silent, and Sakura watches her mind disappear—Sakura's eyes dilate with lust as she watches Chaewon's own eyes roll in her head. She creams without pause, like a dam in her is broken as she jerks in a powerful orgasm. When the cocks are withdrawn, the cum-mixture spills from both her holes, and the truth dawns on Sakura—Chaewon was just double-creampied, filled to the brim with their combined fluids. Sakura expects the same for herself, and she tightens in anticipation, but it does not come just yet.

"Commencing DirectInput trial with two people." That's new. Sakura's ass is left gaping as the cock is removed, and Chaewon's mess of a pussy is plugged once more, both women taking only one cock now. Sakura gasps as the cock in her thrusts in, and her hips buck instinctively. Seemingly in response, the cock in Chaewon thrusts in, and she whines and jerks her body. Turns out, it is mimicking their hip movements, for when Sakura snaps her hips forward again, and Chaewon cries out loudly in response—yes, Sakura's the one fucking Chaewon! The very thought drives Sakura crazy, and she's bucking her hips with wild abandon, watching her "cock" drive into Chaewon repeatedly. Of course, as Sakura moves her hips, her own dildo is moving inside her, building her pleasure up as she gives Chaewon pleasure.

"Kkura unnie, Kkura unnie!" At this point Chaewon is well aware of what's Sakura doing, seeing and feeling her unnie's cock drive right through her own body. When Sakura groans loudly in her climax, Chaewon cums with her, fists clenched tightly and toes curled in ecstasy—she can't help it when it's Sakura's cock filling her womb with cum.

And then it's Chaewon's turn. She starts off slowly, testing with a few slow strokes. Soon though, Sakura's begging to be fucked.

Begging her.

"F-Faster, go faster Chaewon-ah! Harder!" She's still sensitive, but for Sakura, Chaewon can go fast, and she moves her hips as quickly as she can, her lower lip quivering as the pleasure rises in her own body. Sakura's abs twitch equally in pleasure, overstimulated but wanting Chaewon to fuck her to an orgasm. Chaewon puts her all into it, and Sakura feels each and every thrust rock her body, the wrap tightening around her, as if Chaewon's slamming her directly. She had never wondered how Chaewon fucks, now she won't be able to not think about it ever again. With a few more thrusts Chaewon delivers in more ways than one, pushing Sakura off the edge as she pumps her full of cum, the two of them cumming together once more.

"Testing simultaneous DirectInput now." Both cocks now move in response to the other's movements, and the two women are bucking haphazardly, each action triggering a reaction from the other—Sakura would buck her hips, which would make Chaewon jerk in response, making the cock in Sakura move and thrust. Sakura's fucking Chaewon, Chaewon's fucking Sakura, and they're cumming at the same time, giving the other a creampie. They both scream when a cock is pushed into their ass again, and it becomes a completely unhinged feedback loop—Chaewon finds herself fucking Sakura's ass, all while Sakura fucks her pussy, and then the input switches, and Chaewon feels Sakura deep up her ass while she pounds into Sakura's squirting slit. They feed off each other's peaks, filling each other with their mixed fluids in every hole, even as Sakura produces more slick and Chaewon produces more cream.

It all finally stops when AInata says so, withdrawing all dildos from their holes and making them squirm at the sudden emptiness.

"Disk capacity reached. Sakura, I will require more space, or to upgrade our cloud storage plan."

"Mmm... Okay, let's stop the session."

"Would you like a report? Vocalization—"

"Later, l-let us down please." They are lowered to the floor and the restraints are removed. They collapse in their own juices, legs weak and limbs a little numb from being restrained for so long. "Chaewon, are you okay?"

Chaewon is not okay. She has watched Sakura get fucked by AInata, then she watched Sakura get filled by her own cum, and then Sakura fucked her, filled her, and then she fucked Sakura back, filling her unnie similarly. Her world is warped, she could never see Sakura the same way again. Yet, she had one thing left to do.

She needed to touch Sakura.

"Kkura unnie..." Chaewon crawls over her shocked unnie. "I need you." She shows her desire with a kiss, and Sakura's too horny to push her away—after watching each other cum and squirt the whole time, she wants Chaewon too. Sakura leads Chaewon to her bedroom, and legs and arms and tongues finally tangle together in the sheets. Maybe it's the cookies still having an effect on her, but Chaewon gets on top of Sakura, driving a thigh against her unnie's wet pussy while she ruts down on Sakura's hip. The friction is delicious and electric for the two of them, leaving them whimpering in pleasure. Le Sserafim is known for their abs, and the two of them put their strong cores to good use, grinding their hips and making sure their thighs are left smeared with the other's juices.

Chaewon succumbs first, whimpering into Sakura's neck as her unnie bucks powerfully, bouncing Chaewon on her lap. She slips a finger into Chaewon's ass and with a yelp Sakura feels Chaewon cream, each squeeze of her ass seeming to produce more from the quivering leader.

"I want you to cum too unnie..." Chaewon whines, using the last of her strength to suck on Sakura's tits, pushing her thigh against Sakura's slit, and rubbing her clit with a yearning finger. The triple assault sets Sakura off, and with a strangled cry she shakes, rattles, and falls apart, soaking the sheets with the last of her cum. When she comes back down, Sakura finds Chaewon sucking on her lower lip, and she acquiesces, kissing and caressing her leader.

Weeks later, Chaewon goes up to Sakura in the dressing room, distracting her from her crocheting.

"Kkura unnie!"

"What what? What's the problem?"

"Nothing, nothing! I was wondering if you wanted to go to the gym together?"

"Gym? Our PT session is tomorrow."

"I know, I meant, do you want to do more... training tonight? With your friend?"

"What? Sakura has a friend?" Yunjin quips without thinking.

"Yah I have friends too you know!"

"Sure sure, whatever."

"Psh. Sure Chaewon, we can train tonight."

"M-Make sure they have enough space," Chaewon whispers, the two of them turning as red as Yunjin's hair. Thankfully, Yunjin is talking loudly, complaining about how her phone doesn't recognize her voice commands, and their manager agreeing that AI is stupid.

Oh how wrong they are.

A/N: I was actually writing a different story, and this one was supposed to be just a Sakura solo thing to use their song title "Smart" and poke fun at smart houses, but then the thought of Chaewon walking in on her and getting roped into it together was too hot and I had to get it out. I mixed the Guilty Pleasure concept (one person feels the other person via something) with the whole tech and smart house thing. The velvet wrap thing is kinda like a weighted blanket, and supposed to mimic the weight of an actual person pressing on you during sex, but I didn't really use it too well, in my head it just helps with positions too, don't think too hard about that part lol. Anyways hope it makes enough sense, thanks for reading!

[forlix]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞・l.f.

— five times you want to tell your best friend you love him and the time you finally do.

words・7.7k

pairing・idol!felix x gn!reader

genres・fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn w/a happy ending, 5 + 1 trope, idiots in love who are also afraid of love, you do the math

warnings・alcohol consumption, discussions of anxiety, lots of emotional vulnerability, like a surprising amount of crying icl

playlist・jazz bar by dreamcatcher・spring day by bts・through the night by iu・eight by iu ft. suga・house song by searows・not mine by day6

a/n・i borrowed the title of this beautiful day6 song for this fic; give it a listen if you can (especially while reading part four). happy late birthday, lix <333 thank you for being you

One. The door to the café opens with a soft jingle, bringing a chilly draft into the room and causing you to draw your scarf tighter around your shoulders.

Theoretically, you come here to study—but people-watching has become a simultaneous pastime. There was that couple with a pair of samoyeds, so fluffy that they looked like walking clouds; a mother and son, hunched over their croissants, arguing in a classic “don’t cause a scene in public” tone; an elderly woman in bicycle shorts asking for extra shots of espresso in the menu’s most caffeinated item.

And now, there is him.

“Hello,” the ashy-haired stranger says to the barista with a quick, polite bow. “May I have a medium caramel latte? Hot, with sweetener, please. Thank you.”

His voice reminds you of the notes of a cello, of the feeling of running your fingers through tufted velvet. When he turns away from the counter, he’s slipping a card back into his wallet, and you catch a glimpse of long lashes and a scattering of freckles. You cannot see his face, as it’s covered by a black mask, but that only propels the question further: who are you?

And perhaps it is destiny herself who hooks a gentle finger beneath the stranger’s chin and tilts his head upwards, because when he inadvertently steps into a patch of sunlight, his brown irises illuminate like molten amber, and they are fixed upon you.

You feel your lips part, your stomach turn. You don’t know if your cheeks are so warm because of your piping hot tea (your third one today) or because of the newfound eye contact with someone so ethereal.

But you are sure that the corners of the stranger’s eyes crinkle ever so slightly, as if his lips have just curved into a smile beneath his mask.

“Felix,” the barista calls, and you turn the name silently on your tongue.

Maybe you are exhausted from work and not thinking straight. Maybe you are more starved for change than you’ve ever been. Or maybe you’re just prophetic. But you think you sense forever in this man, with his freckled cheeks and pretty eyes.

That is the first time you want to tell Lee Felix you love him.

Two. The second Felix comes into your line of vision, you sense that something is wrong.

You hold up a hand in greeting, and the smile he returns is sincere but muted, as if it pains him to move, to breathe. He sounded weary on the phone earlier—can I see you tonight? Just for a bit—but only now that he’s in front of you do you see the extent of his fatigue, seeping into his sunken shoulders and lightless eyes.

“Hi,” he says once he’s close enough.

“Hey, you,” you answer, rising out of your seat. Instinctively, he extends his arms toward you, and you draw him into a hug that is fleeting and familiar. He smells faintly of laundry detergent and vanilla, and it makes something within you ache, like an oyster searching for its absent pearl.

When you pull away, your hands move to your best friend’s cheeks, cocooning his face so you can get a better look at him. Even under the sparse streetlights, you see that his eyes are slightly bloodshot, the shadows beneath them deep and sullen. Has he been crying? 

“Bad day?” You ask, your hands falling back to your sides.

“The worst,” he returns with a weak smile. 

“Wanna take a walk?”

“Yes, please. How long do I have you for?”

This is what you do when your schedules are too packed for you to make real plans: take strolls wherever is most convenient, for however long either of you can spare. Sometimes that’s five minutes, sometimes five hours. But you know that you need to be here for him tonight.

“As long as you need me,” you say.

You turn around to pick up your drinks (a decaf caramel latte for Felix and a black milk tea for yourself), and you don't see the way his smile comes back a little bigger the second time, the way his cheeks warm slightly under the moonlight.

There’s a small park a few blocks behind your apartment. Granted, it's not a very good park, with only a tiny, sad playground and very little foliage, but it is an excellent stargazing spot, due to it being so dark and desolate. You and Felix decide to head there now, your arms touching as you walk through the quiet residential area.

Ten minutes later, blades of grass are poking the back of your head, and directly above you is a sea of scattered stars, flickering like millions of faulty flashlights. Felix’s voice is leaden when he starts to speak, breaking the park’s fragile silence. He tells you about his fears, about how earlier today they overwhelmed him so much that he wanted to lock himself away from the world and throw away the key. He tells you about his dreams, about how even in his relentless pursuit of them they sometimes still feel as amorphous and unattainable as fragments of mist.

The way he always does when he’s around you, Felix spills parts of himself that he never thought he could entrust to anyone. And you don’t say a word, your knee leaning against his, listening, understanding. (But you wish you could tell him a lot of things: that you care for him more than you ever believed yourself capable; that you hope for his happiness more than your own; that you don’t have the words to heal him, but you would give anything to find them.)

By the time the two of you leave the park, it’s almost midnight, and the streets have fallen silent save for the occasional whoosh of car wheels on cement and the distant lamentations of cricket choirs. You’re making small talk now, and Felix is smiling a little easier. It seems your conversation worked in cheering him up; a temporary fix, you’re sure, like a bandaid where stitches should be, but seeing his eyes crinkle and hearing his laugh again is enough to soothe your worry for the rest of the night, at the very least.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay going back yourself?” You ask once the two of you reach the entrance to your apartment building.

“Yeah, of course.” Felix touches the back of his neck apologetically. “I’m sorry I kept you out so late.”

“Nonsense, Lix. I’m always here for you.”

Felix averts his eyes to his shoes, and you’re caught off guard by his facial expression: exhausted but contemplative, and possessing a sense of tenderness. It is a look that you don’t think you’ve seen before, and you feel your heartstrings pull at its unfamiliarity, its strange softness.

You say your goodbyes, but your "let me know when you get home safe" is cut short when you feel a hand catch your wrist, just as you’re entering the building.

How Felix doesn’t notice your frantic pulse beneath his touch is beyond you, but instead he parts his lips, and his next words resound in your mind as you try and fail to fall asleep that night.

“I can’t explain why, or how—but I feel braver when I’m with you, Y/N. I meant to tell you that earlier.”

And those three words rush to your mind fleetingly, like saltwater crashing against the shores of your mind. Even when the tide has subsided, they remain on the sand, waiting to be read aloud.

“Thank you,” Felix mumbles, “for everything.”

You don’t read out those words, of course. Instead, you reach up to squish Felix’s face and call him a sentimental dork, to which he rolls his eyes affectionately and bats you away, and the moment is over. But when you turn to go, your heart is pounding so loudly that your reply may as well have been a confession.

Three. You sink into your mattress, careful to keep your tea within your mug’s rim, and let out a hybrid of a groan and a sigh that is strikingly reminiscent of an old man lowering himself into a worn armchair.

You can’t remember the last time you had a cold this terrible. It feels as if your lungs took a plunge in a vat of wet cement and then rolled around in gravel immediately afterward. And it’s got you in the mood to do nothing but listen to the heavy drops of rain knocking against your window, curl up with a good show and a hot drink, and bask in your own congestion.

But then your phone, which you left in the bathroom, emits four deafening notification sounds, and you haul yourself back out of bed with a groan-sigh that’s twice as anguished as the last.

When you reach the hellish device, your best friend’s name greets you, and your ire dissipates momentarily.

From: Lix 🐣 Hey hey From: Lix 🐣 We still on for dinner tonight? From: Lix 🐣 Just gonna be me, Minho, Seungmin. Jeongin has a vocal lesson From: Lix 🐣 Please don’t play the “if Jeongin doesn’t go neither do I” card again I’ve had enough of it!!! ENOUGH

You let out a throaty laugh that sounds like one of Minho’s cats battling a hairball, heading back to bed.

From: Y/N 🌙 ahhhh i meant to text you earlier, but i have the worst cold From: Y/N 🌙 no clue how or why i caught it but i feel like fucking shit. it’d be a bad idea for me to come over right now From: Y/N 🌙 sorry :( can we raincheck in a few days? From: Y/N 🌙 (that way jeongin can come too!!!)

Felix dislikes this last text, and you snort into your tea.

From: Lix 🐣 Yeah, of course. Don’t apologize From: Lix 🐣 Do you need anything? You’re eating and sleeping well, yeah? From: Y/N 🌙 sleeping, YES.  From: Y/N 🌙 eating, not really 😅 but i don’t have much of an appetite anyways From: Y/N 🌙 don’t worry about me. i’ll be raring to go in a day or two

Felix starts to type a response, but the gray dots disappear after a bit, and you set your phone face-down on your nightstand. He probably has to get back to work, and you have to get back to your episode.

Slowly, the soporific fragrance of chamomile and the lull of relentless rain start to weigh on your eyelids, and you slump unconsciously into your makeshift fortress of blankets, your show playing to nobody.

Night has fallen by the time the door of your apartment clicks open, and Felix pokes a head into your dark kitchen, cautiously calling out your name. When you don’t respond, he slips inside and moves to your kitchen counter, where he unloads the bags in his arms. A spare key to your place dangles from the opening of his hoodie pocket. 

There’s a quiet knock on your bedroom door, another call of your name—infinitely softer this time, like how one would speak to a dove. But Felix finds you out like a light, even when he closes your laptop and puts it on your desk, checks your temperature with a gentle hand to your forehead. It feels normal enough to let you sleep, but warm enough that he brings a glass of water and two pills of ibuprofen to your nightstand, placed within your reach, should you wake up in the middle of the night needing them.

Using only the slivers of light coming in from the hallway, Felix allows himself to look at your sleeping form. Your breathing is callous but steady; your face pallid but peaceful. And if only you'd seen see the tiny, helpless smile that pulls at his lips; if only you'd heard the pulse protesting against his skin, yelling at him “do something about this, you fucking idiot, and do it soon."

But you don’t see or hear anything; you just speak, instead.

“Stay with me,” you whisper, and Felix’s hand freezes on your doorknob, his eyes widening in the darkness. “Please?”

There is a lengthy period of nothing, during which neither of you makes another noise; there is only the sound of your clock ticking, raindrops rushing against the windows, and Felix’s heart in his ears.

And then he moves.

“C'mere,” Felix murmurs once he’s lying down next to you, and you nestle into his embrace as easily as if you've always belonged there, your face burrowing into the crook of his neck, your arms winding around his waist, searching for him, asking for him.

Felix has always expressed his affection for people through touch, and you’ve gotten used to his constant hand on your shoulder, his leg resting against yours. But he thinks this is the first time you’ve initiated physicality outright, and he feels a concerned pang in his chest at your unexpected vulnerability. He lifts a hand to cradle the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair.

“Gonna get you sick,” you say with a wet sniffle, your voice muffled against him. And Felix presses a kiss to the top of your head, perhaps without thinking as much as he should have; but who can blame him for forgetting to think when he’s holding you the way he is?

“Don’t care,” he answers readily. “I'm not going anywhere.”

At some point before you fall back asleep, you think your mouth actually forms the words I love you, subtly and silently and into the fabric of his hoodie. But you resume your slumber before you can think more of it. (Felix waits until your breathing is steady again, checks your temperature one more time; and only afterward does he allow his eyes to close.)

The next morning, you wake to an empty bed and a Post-It note explaining that Felix had to run to a recording session: Check your kitchen! See u soon x. Accompanied by a small, messy doodle of a baby chick popping out of its egg.

Your face melts into a smile when you see that the fridge is chock-full of fresh groceries and the pantry has been restocked with your favorite snacks, including a batch of Felix’s world-famous sea salt brownies—accompanied by another note with another doodle, this time a crescent moon wearing your sneakers. Sugar is prolly bad for you rn. Pls have in moderation!

When you pull out your phone to thank him for everything, you see his remaining texts from yesterday—and you feel momentarily empty, as if only then noticing that you've been missing a fraction of your soul your whole life.

From: Lix 🐣 I’ll drop by tonight to check on you From: Lix 🐣 Wait for me, okay?

And he is right in front of you, just out of reach.

Four. “This isn’t a bad idea, right?” Chan asks under his breath.

“Nah, they’ll be fine,” Minho replies, clapping a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “Y/N will take care of him.”

A loud yelp comes from up ahead, and the men whip around quickly enough to crack a joint—only to realize that the noise was the opening note of DAY6’s “Not Mine,” and you and Felix have just launched into song so terribly and so loudly that it’s probably awoken the entirety of Seoul.

“And who’s gonna take care of Y/N?”

The two men look at each other for a moment before deciding they’re not interested in talking the two of you out of a disorderly intoxication charge. 

“Let me know when you get back!” Chan hollers after you, and they reenter the karaoke bar in a hurry.

The members decided to go out for karaoke after finishing promotions earlier that week, and Felix invited you to come along. And you might've gone a little overboard with the mango sake, but your level of tipsy is nothing compared to that of the blue-haired boy draped over you.

Felix is rather prone to hangovers, you’ve discovered from past experiences, so the moment he started speaking in some kind of nonsensical Korean-English mutation that not even Chan could understand, the members tasked you with taking him home early. Now, Felix has his arm around your neck, less out of affection and more out of a genuine requirement for support, doing his best to walk in a straight line. He hasn't stopped grinning for the last hour, and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to run out of energy anytime soon, not as long as there’s more of DAY6’s discography to butcher.

In spite of your foggy mind, you're well aware that your best friend has never been prettier. He sets the bar high as it is, but then you throw in the flushed lips and cheeks, the lopsided, ditzy grin, the wine-kissed complexion, and life becomes terribly difficult for you. It doesn’t help that alcohol amplifies his proclivity for physical contact—he's been attached to your hip all night, holding your waist, pulling you into incidental hugs.

Needless to say, your current situation is a bit precarious; but you don't know that. Not yet.

The two of you finish your disrespectful rendition of “Not Mine” just as you pass the apartment’s front desk, and it is only when you see the deadly look that the receptionist gives you over the brim of his glasses that you finally feel sober again. You have the sense to incline your head in apology. Felix, however, launches into “You Were Beautiful” without a care in the world.

You dig a pointed elbow into his ribs as you hit the up button, and his singing abruptly falters with a pained huff. "Ow."

“Take an intermission, superstar,” you say. “The receptionist looks like he’s ready to throttle us.”

“Ah, he would never. We’re tight,” he returns, and before you can stop him he’s lifting his head, raising his voice. “Have a good night, Mr. Seo!”

Your nose scrunches into an apprehensive wince—but instead, you think you hear a hint of a smile in the man's cool reply.

“You too, Mr. Lee. Keep your voices down, please.”

“Yes, sir!” You and Felix reply in unison. Felix gives you a smile that says I told you so before he nestles his cheek against your shoulder, and you shake your head. Nobody is immune to the boy’s brightness.

Entering the building seemed to be effective in calming Felix down. The elevator ride up is silent save for a bit of quiet humming, and you finally see a bit of sleep on his face when you open the door of his dorm and turn on the living room lights. He lets you escort him to his bathroom without a word.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” you say, reaching to pat his cheeks a couple times. “Be careful in there.”

“M’kay. Thank you," he says with a drowsy smile, and closes the door.

You pull out your phone and open up your messages with Chan, remembering his parting request.

To: Chan 🐺 we got back safe!! To: Chan 🐺 lix is gonna be okay. i'll take care of him

A few minutes later, a notification appears at the top of your screen; Chan left hearts on both of your messages and sent two in response.

From: Chan 🐺 Thanks, good to hear :) you get some rest too, okay? From: Chan 🐺 Bro tore that sake UP

You begin to type back a retort—give me a break it was basically JUICE—when you hear Felix call your name, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.

“What's up?” You answer.

“I think I’m...stuck.”

Now what the hell does that mean?

“Can I come in?”

“Mhm.”

You open the door, and your attempt to suppress your laughter fails with flying colors. Felix is well and truly stuck in his crewneck, the gray material swathed around his head, his arms positioned in some kind of advanced pretzel formation.

“You are a hot mess, Lee Yongbok," you sing, moving toward him, and he whines from inside his cotton prison.

“Please don’t kick me while I’m down.”

Grinning, you bring your fingers to the hem of his top and attempt to lift it over his head. He’s managed to tangle himself quite impressively, and the next few minutes are spent with you trying to extract him, like he’s that one nose hair that your tweezers have never been able to reach, all while he's moaning and groaning about the fabric catching on his earrings, about his joints not being able to handle this kind of pressure anymore.

He emerges from the crewneck a while later looking positively disgruntled. You toss the gray mass onto the counter, proud of your handiwork.

“So maybe I‘m a hot mess,” he concedes. “A little bit.”

“That's alright. We all have our moments,” you giggle. “Come on, let me help you with your jewelry.”

For a second, he looks like he’s about to protest—but the look you give him reminds him that his motor functions are currently on strike.

“Okay,” he mumbles adorably.

You position yourself a little closer to Felix and lift your hands to the nape of his neck, where the clasp of his chain lies. It takes you a few tries to undo it, and you end up having to use the mirror above the sink for guidance. Soon, there is a soft click. You set the chain down next to the crewneck before your hands return to the sides of his face, this time to tuck long, light blue strands behind the cuffs of his ears. Your fingers run over the curves of his silver earrings.

“Are these bothering you at all?” You ask nonchalantly. “I forgot you had so many piercings.”

In your peripheral vision, you see Felix’s lips move, but no sound comes out. Puzzled, you move your eyes to meet his, and it takes you one blink’s worth of time to understand the source of his speechlessness.

Somewhere between your reaching up to touch his necklace and the present moment, you’ve come incredibly, dangerously close to him. Close enough that you can count the freckles that speckle his skin like fallen stars, that you can feel the heat of his body against your own, that Felix’s eyes are nearly crossed trying to maintain eye contact with you.

Your heartbeat lodges itself firmly in your throat, and your thoughts evaporate into complete and utter disarray. There are three differently-worded apologies on the tip of your tongue within seconds. You immediately start to pray that he won’t remember this tomorrow morning. And your strongest impulse is to move; to get as far away from him as possible, before either of you does anything you'll regret.

But there is something that overwhelms your every instinct, and stops you from budging an inch. And that is the way Felix is looking at you, unblinking brown eyes filled with something that doesn’t have a name. It is the same tender expression that’d surprised you the first time you saw it, and it is with a spiraling stomach that you finally realize what that expression is.

You reach your conclusion a second after he does.

Felix’s hand lifts to cradle your jaw, his face moving closer to yours. Your foreheads touch, wisps of his hair falling over the bridge of your nose, your senses engulfed by the vanilla of his cologne and the touch of sweet wine on his breath. The scene is as delicate as a dragonfly’s tail dipping into a pond’s surface; even a minuscule disturbance would shatter this limbo instantaneously.

A part of you wishes that it would, but nothing does. There is only his pulse, perceptible through the thin cloth of his tank top, vehement beneath your fingertips—and your heart, naked and frail, sitting upon the palm of his hand.

Felix doesn’t push you away; he doesn’t kiss you. He does something far worse.

“I love you,” he whispers.

A few seconds. That is how long you stand there for, with every word of every language you know inaccessible, every qualm and doubt and source of anxiety that plagued your mind moments before now distant memories, every ounce of your energy channeled into keeping yourself upright.

But the few seconds feel like forever. The same way he has always felt like forever to you. The same way you imagined you would spend forever loving him, close enough for him to love you back, but far enough that he’ll never know the true nature of your affection: greater and truer than anything anyone would ever call friendship.

An urgent question suddenly surfaces in your mind: is he still drunk? He was falling up, down, and sideways minutes ago. Surely this was an intoxicated slip of the tongue. But you discern the slight tremble to Felix’s breathing and the intensity in his heavy-lidded gaze, all far too intentional, far too conscious to be wine-induced—leaving behind one impossible possibility.

You should be having your happy tears kissed from your face right now. You should be over the moon, relishing in the sensation of two stars aligning at long fucking last, the way you’ve dreamed of since the very first time you laid eyes on Felix.

But instead, you just feel inexplicably and profusely afraid.

You won’t remember the specifics of the next few minutes. You think you stumble away from him and whisper I’m sorry through watering eyes, though you don’t really know what for. He sputters something in return, his tone so desperate and confused that you feel your heart break to pieces on the spot. You apologize again, leave the bathroom, and move towards the apartment door as if your life depends on it. In your peripheral vision, you notice the crease of concern on Mr. Seo’s face when you stalk past him, tears now flying freely down your cheeks. You run into Minho and Jeongin when you step out of the building, and you see the worry that creases their faces, hear their voices calling your name. Jeongin's hand closes around your wrist—are you okay?! What the fuck happened?—but you do not, can not say anything, not right now.

And then you are alone again, and you briskly walk the two miles back to your apartment. Your mind and heart are every bit as foggy as the somber night sky that hangs over your head.

Five. When the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the evening, Felix turns around to face you, launching into his best tour guide walk.

“And, with that,” he says with a glowing smile, “we are nearing the end of our tour of Sydney.”

“Noooo,” you lament, reaching your arm out. Felix falls back into step beside you and links it with his, the movement like clockwork. Your jackets scrunch up together where your elbows bend. “Already?”

“Okay, the tour’s been going on for two days and you haven’t paid a cent for my toil. Don’t push your luck.”

Your laughter spills into the otherwise quiet avenue, the setting sun throwing shadows across the cement, but it always feels like midday when you have the brightest man in the world by your side.

When the two of you discovered you had a free weekend on the same days, Felix conjured up the idea of going home—and suggested that you go with him. You’d freaked out for a bit, but then Felix reminded you that his mom texts you on your birthday and that you’re on multiple different subscription plans with his sisters, and you collected yourself quite quickly. There was a lot of cheering over the phone when Felix informed his family that they’d finally get to meet you in person.

But such a fast trip to the other side of the world proved to be no easy feat. Felix took on the task of piecing together a travel plan that would cover most of his favorite spots in forty-eight hours. The last two weeks were filled with him fretting over the details and you fretting over him, asking time and time again if you could help with anything, only for him to shoo you away with a single hand and a pointed “you are my guest. Now leave me.”

With assistance from every other resource at his disposal, though, he pulled it off, and the weekend has been wonderful thus far.

“I think that was some of the best food I’ve ever had, seriously,” you hum. “I’ll be dreaming about those appetizers for the rest of my life.”

“I'm glad. It took a Socratic seminar to choose the place, after all."

(The Socratic seminar in question: a two-hour FaceTime call and an intense match of rock-paper-scissors between him and his siblings, aimed to decide on where Felix would take you for dinner the second night. Only for his mom to ignore all of their efforts and insist upon her own choice of restaurant instead—no ifs, ands, or buts.)

“We have to try your sisters’ recommendations the next time I visit, don’t we?”

“Yes," he returns, shuddering. "I think my family is done for if we don’t."

He has one place left to take you, and the two of you head there now, shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm.

A month has passed since that night.

You’ve tried with every fiber of your being to put the whole thing from your mind, of course to no avail. You see Felix’s flushed lips and gentle gaze every time you blink; you hear his “I love you” every time you’re alone, the words whispered in the wind and dragged over the earth, in tandem with your footsteps.

You wanted to fucking die of awkwardness in the few days following, but it was never an option for you to avoid Felix for long. The two of you still went on convenience store runs together; still met up for coffee before work; still continued your business as usual, against all odds. And you owed it all to Felix and how he knows you better than you know yourself. He didn’t try to talk to you when he sensed that you had nothing to say; nor did he try to bring you back when you felt miles away. He would just silently slip a pack of your favorite cookies into your grocery basket or order your drink on your behalf.

Felix had questions and wanted answers; there was no doubt about that. But he held his tongue, granted you as much space as you needed to come back to him. And you did, in your gradual, meticulous way.

You’re finally going to bring it up tonight. You’ve planned to since the day you confirmed the trip, and you hope that the final stop of the tour will be the perfect place to bite the bullet.

“We’re here,” Felix says.

The two of you have arrived at the bank of a wide river, and you’re at a temporary loss for words. To your right is a bridge that spans the distance of the water, and to your left is a stunning, panoramic view of the city of Sydney. Twilight has turned the buildings into dark silhouettes against the autumn sunset, and the water reminds you of a palette of oil paints with how it reflects the pinks and oranges in the sky.

Felix feels you tighten your hold around his arm, and he smiles when he sees the wonder in your eyes. He wishes he could see this place for the first time again.

“Not bad, huh?”

“No,” you murmur. “Not at all.”

“C’mon.”

Felix leads you to the center of the bridge, where he props his elbows atop the metal railing and looks over the water. You join him and pull out your phone, but no settings or adjustments render your camera capable of capturing the landscape's beauty.

(Until Felix throws up a peace sign and pokes his head into the corner of your frame. Then it stands a fighting chance.)

“What is this place?” You ask, your shoulder touching his when you also lean over the railing. “Why are we the only ones here?”

“Crazy, right?” Felix says proudly. “I dunno. I think it might be private property, or something. But it’s only a few blocks away from my house and on the way I used to take to school, so I used to come here all the time, always around this time of day.”

Felix’s gaze moves over the sky, oblivious to the fact that his eyes hold whole rainbows of their own.

“There was never anyone around, but I could still hear the birds chirping and the wind in the leaves. It felt like a corner of the world had been sealed off just for me. I’m glad to see that nothing’s changed.”

Some time passes, and Felix tells you more stories about this peculiar bridge: how he asked someone to formal and got rejected and came here to reflect on his actions; how he had to take two different buses every day because his school was so far away from his house, but he always stopped here to feed the families of mallards that came out to swim in the mornings, even if it meant he’d be late; how this was the last place he went to before moving to South Korea, because he knew he’d miss this nook of Sydney most.

Of all the places you've visited, you think this one will remain with you longest. As time elapses, the colors of the sunset augment and deepen, dyeing the world in ways that remind you of the aurora. And then there is the man, wearing a gentle smile to match his softened features, his voice to your ears what honey is to a sore throat, telling you about his past, letting you into yet another chamber of his soul.

You are in no way prepared to butcher the sanctity of this moment, but you know that you can only run for so long and so far. You owe it to him. You owe it to yourself.

When the sun’s final rays are clinging the faraway mountaintops, Felix lifts himself off the railing and stands up straight. “Ready to go home?"

And your hand finds his, the pads of your fingers cold against his skin. Felix is surprised at first, but then he sees the hint of sadness in your eyes and the tension in your shoulders, and he understands what’s coming.

“I want to talk to you about that night,” you say.

Felix doesn’t respond for a few seconds. But when he does, his voice is so soft and so infuriatingly kind that hearing it makes you want to sob.

“...you don’t have to, Y/N.”

“No. I do,” you return, startling even yourself with the firmness in your voice, "I don’t want to keep dancing around the topic, not when you’ve been waiting for as long as you have.”

You feel Felix’s gaze on your face, as if he’s trying to read between your lines, and then he yields with a slight incline of his head.

“Okay.” And the stage is yours.

You don't start talking right away, your mind reeling with the effort to organize everything you feel and verbalize everything you want to tell him. It isn’t until Felix gives your hand a gentle squeeze—you’ve forgotten that you’re still holding his—that you feel rooted in the moment again.

It’s Felix you’re talking to; your soulmate, your sunlight. Nothing you are about to say will ever change that. This, you believe with every fiber of your being. 

So you take a deep breath.

“When you said those words,” you begin, and the words sound alien in your voice, despite how many times you’ve rehearsed this conversation in your head, “I couldn’t process a thing. I was so happy, but I was so, so scared. I’ve spent the last month trying to figure out why I was so scared, and I can’t say that I know for sure yet, but I have a much better idea now, and—it’s a lot of things.

“For as long as I can remember, I have only ever been able to love profoundly and deeply, with everything in me. And over time, I led myself to believe that nobody would ever be able to understand or reciprocate my love, not in the manner I want most.”

You feel yourself starting to waver, but you find strength in his touch.

“But you changed that, Felix. You walked into that café that afternoon with your voice and your smile, and suddenly I’d found you—someone who experiences life the way I do, who loves the way I love. And every day since, I’ve been surrounded by you and your effortless warmth and your beautiful soul. It was only a matter of time before I started hoping, constantly and stupidly, that you would one day love me, the same way that I—”

Your voice catches in your throat like a heel slamming into car brakes, “love you” hanging so dangerously from the tip of your tongue that you’re stunned it doesn’t fall out right away.

“But that’s why I’m fucking terrified,” you go on. “When you told me you loved me, I felt like I could fly. But I also felt like I was falling—and maybe this is because I was still tipsy, I'm not really sure—but in that moment I saw a world where we weren't there to catch each other, where something had gone horribly wrong and I'd wake up one morning and you’d—you’d just be a distant memory.

“And that was the thought that shook me so badly: losing you. Leaving you.” You’re crying now, tears paving golden trails against your cheeks. “For whatever reason, that was the first thing that came to mind, and it broke me.”

You need to wrap it up, and fast, if your faltering voice and racing heart are any indication.

“I meant it when I apologized to you that night. I’m sorry, Lix. I’m sorry I made everything so fucking complicated. I’m sorry that I ran away. I’m sorry that I hurt you, or worried you. But I want you to know that I feel more for you than you will ever understand; I just need a little more time to put it into words. So, wait for me—”

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you finally cave, your last word coming out in a shattered rasp.

“—please.”

And the syllable has barely left your mouth when Felix lets go of your hand, only to bring his arms around you and pull you to his chest with such urgency that the breath momentarily leaves your lungs.

When you fall against him, you fall entirely apart. You have no idea where all the feelings are coming from, only that they’re suddenly overwhelming your every sense. And you start to cry, really cry, your fingers seeking refuge in his jacket, in his hair. 

The sun departs at last, and night starts to fall. You lose track of how long you remain in this position, shaking with hushed sobs, fighting to regain control of your emotions. But Felix stays with you through it all, muted tears of his own intermingling with yours in the material of his scarf. He holds you carefully yet fiercely, like you really will crumble if he lets go.

And he waits, because of course he does. He would wait lifetimes for you.

One. The way you thaw is like melting snow.

It happens under your nose for the most part, but it is slow, sure, and irreversible, and you open your eyes one morning only to realize that the world outside has changed—and so have you.

You roll over and pick up your phone. There are unread messages from Felix sitting in your notifications, probably confirming the plans you made to get coffee before work today, but you put them on hold for now. Instead, you open up your camera roll and find an album, labeled with a sun emoji and yellow heart.

You made this a few months after you met Felix, and you’ve doted on it since, in the sense that you update it almost every day. Funnily enough, though, you’ve never looked through the album just to look through it. Maybe because you’ve never had the time or felt the impulse, but more likely because you know that the album is a visual time capsule of your relationship with the most important person in your life—which has never been purely platonic for you, despite how hard you’ve tried to change your heart.

Looking through it would mean acknowledging your true emotions, something you’ve never felt ready for.

Now, you open the album without a second thought, a preemptive smile on your lips. And you find yourself swept out of your bed and thrown back inside each of the pictures you see, reliving the moments as vividly as if you’re watching them on film.

This is one of your favorites, taken during a late-night tteokbokki run to a small restaurant behind Felix's company building. Felix was laughing so hard at one of your stories that he could only take bites of his meal every five minutes. His face had broken into a dazzling grin, his figure blurring as he lurched forward in his seat, trying to pull his hood over his face in secondhand embarrassment. Snap. He is always handsome, extraordinarily so, but you think you love the way he looks here most of all: every guard of his lowered, carefree, happy.

Another is from the first time you met Chan. Nowadays, your interactions with the boys consist mostly of running into them at Felix's dorm and making friendly small talk. But it's always been different with the oldest member. The first time Felix introduced the two of you, you clicked straightaway, and you had to have spent four hours after dinner just talking, scouring the city for something cold to eat. By the end of the sweltering summer night, the three of you were perched atop a short stone barrier in a secluded corner of Seoul, right outside the best bingsu place in all of South Korea. Felix had leaned over to steal the last cube of mango from Chan’s bowl, to Chan's dramatic protest. Snap. And Chan is like a brother to you now; you will never be able to fathom how much light Felix has brought to your life, be it through him or the people he loves.

A computer screen displaying a League of Legends scoreboard, in which Felix has died more times than there were minutes of the game. Snap. You (not sober) in the center of Felix's living room, your body poised in what is supposed to be the chorus of “Queencard," Felix and Bin completely losing their shit on the couch. Snap. His head bowed in anguish over a bowl of brownie batter after he mistakes salt for sugar. Snap. A low-quality, tiny Felix on stage, the brightest grin on his face when he finally manages to spot you in the nosebleeds. Snap. Your dining table creaking under the weight of all the gifts he got you for your last birthday. Snap. Him and one of your best friends from home, arms around each other, peace signs thrown up, beaming. Snap.

There are countless more, and they are all so incredibly near and dear to you, all thanks to the freckled boy in each. 

You respond to Felix's messages (“be there soon!”), and then move to get dressed. There is a new sense of certainty in your gait when you emerge from your building and into the quiet morning.

The weather is lovely, the fresh sunlight cream-colored against a cloudless sky, the light breeze shuffling the new leaves about. A hound’s ears twitch when you hurry past its home; it is too drowsy to investigate your presence further. The only sounds in the air are the chattering of sparrows in the branches above you and the soles of your shoes, moving quickly across the sidewalk. The wonder in the world is more palpable to you today than it’s ever been.

Soon, the chalk-written menu and hand-carved wooden sign of your favorite café come into view, and you open the door. There are only a few customers inside, and you spot your person right away: his long, dark hair partially pinned back, his figure flattered by a black long sleeve and jeans. He has a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, as well as two drinks on the table before him: one caramel latte and one black milk tea.

When he hears the door jingle, he looks up, and the smile that melts across his face is so fond that you can’t believe there was ever a time when you doubted his feelings for you.

The way his loving smile mirrors onto your face is as inevitable and involuntary as destiny herself.

“Hi,” Felix says, rising from his seat.

“Hey, you,” you answer. “Wanna take a walk?”

And so you do.

You link arms, as always; you try each other’s drinks, as always; you manage to talk about everything and nothing all at once, as always. But when his company building comes into view, your footsteps come to a halt, and your hand fastens around the cuff of his sleeve.

“Hey, Lix—"

When his eyes meet yours, the sun hits them just right, and you have not known anything as clearly and certainly as you do right then.

“—I love you.”

Felix can only stare, his eyes so wide that you can see the whites of them all around, his straw falling from his parted lips.

Then, a smile starts to creep across his face like spilt syrup.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Lee Yongbok.”

He sets his bag and drink down on the pavement. “Again, please.”

“I love you,” you repeat, starting to laugh. “I love you, I love you, god, I love you, Felix, so fucking much—”

Felix brings his hands to either side of your face, leaning his forehead against your own. And this time, there is no hesitation, no fear—only starlight when he tilts your chin up and finally, finally presses his lips to yours.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, hordes of them flapping so fervently you feel as though you might take off into the air, but you seek out his elbows, then his shoulders, and then the back of his neck, anchoring yourself to the earth, to him. Felix kisses you like he will never be able to again, and it is all you can do to savor how the curve of his smile feels against your own; how he murmurs the words “I love you, too” in between breaths. He tastes like sugar and smells like shampoo. He feels like forever.

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[monzamash]

pit in my stomach - lando norris

rating – mature (cheating, language, sexual references) requested by @landograndprix - hugging you tight, my friend!

it was hard to pin point the moment his love for you had been diminished by his crippling guilt or when you knew there was nothing he could say or do to piece you back together. maybe it was around the time you’d asked him point blank whether he saw you in his future and he stuttered over his truth with an unconvincing of course i do when the dagger had already been deployed into your unsuspecting back. naively blinded by love.

or maybe it was the night lando stumbled home from the local, half a pint of slushing lager still in his hand while the other held a small, black velvet box. he dropped down on one knee, eyes bloodshot with tears and a trembling bottom lip – a stark contrast to your hardened stare and crossed arms shielding you from the blow, physically and emotionally spent.

“i fucked up… i-god i hate that i've hurt you, baby and i wish i could take it all back – i fucked up so bad and i’m so sorry.”

“you didn’t fuck up, lando – you fucked someone else for six months and lied to my face and made me feel like i was losing my mind! do you have any idea how much pain you’ve caused?”

the room fell silent, boiling blood pumping in your ears.

“huh?! do you?”

“no–”

“no you don’t! i've been stupid enough to keep chasing after you and all you’ve done is let me down and made me look like a fucking idiot! everyone knew about her, about what you were doing behind my back and you knew it was wrong but you couldn’t stop! you’re a monster and i’m not going to cry over a mistake you made…"

sadness welled as you stared down at the man kneeling at your feet. he was a stranger who only resembled the man you loved in appearance, not in honour or integrity or character – you were grieving the lando who had showed you the world with so much love and adoration and hope.

"you will have to live with this mistake for the rest of your life.”

“you’re right. i will never forgive myself 'cause she meant nothing and i have to fix this – i need to fix this because i love you.. so much. i’ll get help, i’ll see someone just give me a chance to fix it…”

“do you really think that is going to fix it?”

you pointed to the dainty box that held so much weight. in a way it represented a future founded on four years of memories, of something resembling happiness. sure, there had been disappointments, hundreds of missed calls, a few missed anniversaries and your gnawing intuition saying that maybe the paranoia wasn’t just inside your head. but ending like this, in betrayal and heartache – you hadn’t seen that one coming.

lando swallowed the lump forming in his throat, queasy from the drunken stupor he’d drank himself into and the dread settling in the pit of his empty stomach, “thought it might be start…”

a strained laugh slipped from pursed lips as venom coated your sharpened tongue, “and that is how i know you will never change.”

“please,” lando scrambled to his feet and reached out for your hand in an attempt to stop you from walking away, “please don’t leave me…” he begged, voice barely above a whisper.

lando knew he would never forget the look in your eyes when you slowly turned back to him – they were cold and punishing, bone-chilling. they swirled with the web of lies and sorrow that he had inflicted upon the person he loved the most in the world, who had given him everything she had, who loved him unconditionally, which made it nearly impossible to accept that he had lost you.

“you left me six months ago when you slept with her, lando.”

more writing...

[simplydannie]

Velvet and Veneer One-Shot

“It Was An Accident”

(Trigger Warning)

Artwork done by my friend @djpixelskitten. You can find her work on TikTok: dj_pixels_kitten. She captured the scene and brought it to life beautifully!! Please go check her out!!

What if Velvet and Veneer never made it to the yacht? What if Veneer decided enough was enough and took a detour? Unfortunately, Velvet hasn’t been herself… leading her and her brother to a downfall….and leaving a giant hole in Floyd’s heart

“Follow that vehicle!” Poppy cried as Velvet and Veneer drove off.

The siblings twisted and turned in the highways of Mount Rageous. Veneer kept looking back as the Trolls neared closer and closer…. Something in the pit of his stomach told him to stop, to call it quits.

On his left shoulder pad, Bruce could see the concern on the kids face.

“You can stop this you know. Before it gets worse for you and your sister.” The small Troll attempted to talk reason to him. Veneer was silent for a moment…

“I can’t. We’re to far into this.” He replied.

“And you can still get out.” John Dory exclaimed in the diamond opposite Bruce. Veneer turned back to look up at has sister; a pink pigmentation glowing around her eyes.

“Vels?” Veneer asked, concern stricken across his face.

“Keep driving!” She practically yelled. She stood up on the car. “WHATS UP MOUNT RAGEOUS! You didn’t think we’d give you a boring old stage show did you!”

The cars around them bustled in cheers.

“Vels, maybe this isn’t a good idea!” Veneer called back to his sister.

“I said drive moron!” She glanced behind them as the Trolls continue to catch up. Velvet stood back up on the car… she began to perform.

The star cameras fluttering around her as she sang. Veneer looked back at his sister again… this wasn’t her. Something began to come over him…like the effects of something began to wear off…

“What have we done?” He murmured. Veneer looked around the highways; he had to get him and his sister out of this mess… he had to get them away from the public eye.

“Kid? What are you thinking?” Bruce asked.

“Hold on. We’re taking a detour.” Veneer switched the car away from the main highway, taking a constructed path empty of other vehicles.

“What the heck Veneer!” Velvet exclaimed. All the cars stopped as they couldn’t follow them.

“Where are they going?” Branch asked. He steered Rhonda to follow the siblings. Veneer kept swerving has the road they were in was still under construction, he avoided any obstacle he could.

“Go back Veneer!” Velvet cried out.

“No! We got to stop this now sis! Just look at yourself this isn’t you!” Veneer called back as he kept his eyes on the road. The star cameras were still following them, flying around them as they continued down the road. Veneer looked at them… this was his opportunity.

“Cameras on me!” He called out. They hovered around him, Velvet looking at everything happening with a confused expression.

“Listen up Mount Rageous!” He called into the cameras. “We. Are. Frauds!” He finally said. The Trolls on his shoulders smiled proudly as Veneer finally had full control of himself. “We kidnapped and tortured our only friend.” He continued to speak. Veneer glanced back to look at Floyd in the diamond Velvet wore. A small smile coming across his face. “We signed a contract with someone who lied to us, manipulated us, and led us down a dark path, not even caring for us. We’re done!”

“No! No! Shut up! You idiot!” Eyes glowing pink she lunged for her brother.

“Wait no stop!” Clay yelled in her chest piece.

Veneer attempted to push off his sister and take control of the vehicle at the same time… swerving to and from.

“Vels stop! We’re going to crash!” Veneer called out.

“You ruined it! You ruined everything!” She said as she began to hit him.

“Kid watch out!” Bruce yelled… but it was too late. Their vehicle hit some concrete barriers. The impact f sent the siblings flying out of the vehicle. Out of instinct, Veneer reached for his sister… he hugged her close. His eyes squeezed shut, he prepared for the force of impact, hoping he could shield her from anything he could.

The went skidding, tossing and turning all over the rubble and concrete floor. Their car flying in pieces along with them. They both landed with a loud SMACK on the floor… the impact sending them rolling in opposite directions. The force of the impact made the diamonds fly out of their chest pieces, sending the small Trolls skidding in different directions….. Then there was silence.

Moments passed as Branch, Poppy, and Viva finally caught up to them…. Thats when they saw the wreckage. Rhonda came to a stop, Branch walking out to the horror.

“No! No!” Branch ran to the broken vehicle which was now on fire. “JD! Clay! Bruce! Floyd!” Branch called out as tears began filling his eyes. Please be alive, he hoped. Poppy and Viva took off the opposite direction attempting to look for his brothers.

Branch was nearly giving up hope… until…

“Branch over here!” It was John Dorys voice. Branch ran quickly and followed it. The small Troll walked upon a scene that he would never get out of his memory.

John Dory and Floyd were there in front of him, still in their diamond prison…. There laying next to them, with debris from the crash laying on top of him… was Veneer. His face scratched and bloodied… his body broken. Branch could see he was struggling to breathe.

“We got to help him.” Floyd begged…. But Branch saw what Floyd couldn’t… the Rageoun was broken, literally broken.

“Floyd..we…we can’t….” Branch began to say.

“PLEASE! HELP HIM!” Floyd begged again with tears in his eyes.

“….Floyd….” The voice was soft but audible. The small Troll turned around to see Veneer looking at him through glassed blue eyes. Floyd moved his diamond close to the Rageoun.

“….im sorry….” Veneer said softly, his lungs barely having enough air to speak. Floyd smiled softly.

“It’s all in past. Stay with me okay. We’re going to get you and Velvet out of this mess. Okay? Stay with me.” Floyd said. JD and Branch stood back watching, tears in their eyes. Veneer nodded.

“….. okay…..” But that was it. He stopped moving, stopped breathing. He lay there motionless, his eyes distant….gone.

“Veneer?” Floyd called out. He moved his diamond prison bumping the Rageoun lightly, hoping he’d move again. “Veneer!” He cried out again…. Nothing…Floyd placed his hand against the diamond near the boys head, wishing he could hold him one last time.

“Branch!” He heard Poppy’s voice. Branch turned to find Poppy running to him, tears streaming down her face. “Clay and Bruce are over here! But…it’s also Velvet. She’s hurt bad!”

Floyd didn’t want to leave Veneer just lying there… but he was gone… now he could only hope Velvet could be saved.

“Where is she?” Floyd asked.

They made their way to where the girl was lying. Unlike her brother, nothing was on top of her suffocating her… but she was hurt…. Very hurt…. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel her legs…. Tears were streaming down her eyes.

“It’s hurts.” She cried. Floyd ran up to her.

“I’m here Vels. We’re going to you a hospital okay?” Floyd said. He had just lost Veneer…He couldn’t loose her too. She looked at the small Troll…

“Where’s Veneer?” She asked. Floyd fought back tears.

“We’re going to get him out too.” He said. Velvet shook her head… she knew that look, she knew the tone of his voice.

“Tell me truth…” She demanded. Floyd could only look at her, letting himself cry.

“….Im sorry…” He said. Velvet bit her lip and looked away. She began to sob uncontrollably.

“…. It was an accident…I didn’t….i didn’t mean too. I don’t- I dont know what came over me. Veneer I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” She cried.

“We need to get help now.” Clay said as he saw the state she was in.

“No! No I don’t want to!” She continued to cry. “ I need my brother… I can’t do this without my brother!” She turned to the direction to where her brothers body lay… ever so slightly, she could make out his shape… “I’m sorry Vennie.” She then turned to look at Floyd. “I’m so sorry…”

She continued to cry, blood began seeping from her nose and mouth. Floyd’s heart began to pound.

“Stay with me Vels okay. I need you here… please.” He said.

“This…this is my fault. I hurt you… I got my little brother killed…I did this...” She stared up at the open highway…the clouds of Rageous began to clear… the moment she saw the sky, a peace came upon her. “….I’m sorry…” She said on last time…Taking her last breath, her eyes glued to the sky.

“Velvet!” Floyd called out. “No Velvet please!” He fell to his knees inside the diamond…

“I can’t loose both of you.”

[2mny-glockis]

Loving Machine >ᵥ_ᵥ<

Model!Getou Suguru x Fashion Designer!fem reader

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔

As the lights of the runway dimmed, the fashion designer known for her breathtaking designs took a deep breath. The sounds of applause filled the room but gradually softened. She took a bow before making her way backstage, her heart still pounding with anxiousness.

For this collection, the theme was crimson elegance, something that was way out of your comfort zone. Usually, you would stick to Lotiaish designs, but you felt as if you needed to do something different.

As you were doing some final checks on the models, you searched for your two centerpieces. First came a gorgeous model wearing what, in your opinion, was one of your most beautiful designs. She was stunning, but what mostly caught your eyes was the male model that followed behind her.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔

He was perfect. The velvet suit perfectly fit his figure, his intimidating aura, his gorgeous long hair—it all suited him. Your gaze lingered on him for a moment; he was breathtaking. You smiled. “Are you two ready? Is anything too tight?” “No, no, this is amazing! I might have to borrow this later,” the female model said, swaying from side to side. You giggled, the fear you originally had slowly turning into zen. “How about you?” You looked towards the male model. “Does everything fit well?” He nodded in affirmation.

“These are beautiful, Miss (y/n). It’s an honor to be wearing one of your designs,” he said, his voice adding to his appeal. “You flattered me-“ “First model is going in 1 minute,” someone yelled, signaling it was time for you to go.“You guys are going to do amazing!” you say as you walked off, leaving them with encouraging words.

The nerves started to kick in again, but once you saw the models walk on that runway, your anxiousness turned into awe. It was beautiful, astounding, and overall amazing, especially your centerpieces. They were amazing. They left not only you but everyone speechless. Once more, applause filled the room, and the runway lights turned off, signaling that this fashion show had came to a close.

You ran backstage to see the models, tears streaming from your eyes. You were shocked that these designs were being received so well, not only by the models but also by the audience and other designers. This style was way out of your comfort zone, yet so far, there hadn't been any major issues. You celebrated by hugging all the models. However, as the night gradually came to a close, you found yourself waiting outside for a cab to take you back to your hotel, reflecting on the success of the show and feeling grateful for the experience.

“I think if you stay outside any longer, you’re going to catch a cold, Miss (y/n),” you heard a voice coming from behind you. It was him.“I thought all the models would’ve left already,” you questioned why he was still here.“Miss (y/n), please just come inside and wait. You will catch a cold,” he insisted, ignoring your question.You decided to comply, one, because you had interviews and photo shoots and couldn’t afford to be sick, and two, because the fine ass model was telling you to.

“I know I already said this, but you did amazing tonight!” You said as you walked back into the building with a large grin on your face. The model laughed to himself, intrigued by your sort of childish nature. He found it cute and tilted his head slightly, a small smile forming on his face. “Suguru,” he said, you raised an eyebrow. “My name is Suguru. Also...” he looked directly at you. “These are your designs, you know? Please give yourself some credit, Miss (y/n),” he chuckled to himself once more. You began to feel flustered; he had a really attractive laugh.

Not knowing how to respond, you stood there, staring at him, dumbfounded by the pretty model's laugh. His smile was slowly turning bigger as you stared at him with your pretty doe eyes, mesmerized by his appearance. “Are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to get into your Uber, Miss (y/n)?” A cheeky grin formed on his face as he pointed to your Uber. If you were flustered before, you were a hundred times more so at this very moment. You could barely get any words out. “You shouldn’t keep your driver waiting,” he said as he took your hands in his, stuffing something into your hands and sending you off. Once you got into the Uber, you opened your hands to reveal a piece of paper with something written on it:

“Text me when you get home Angel :) ###-###-####”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔

>ᵥ_ᵥ<: lemme know if you guys want a part 2 😚

[i-want-men-i-cant-have]

𝒿𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒹𝑒𝓊𝓍. 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑜𝑒.

✿ summary: getting stranded at a party might not be the best thing ever, but meeting the famous french striker under mistletoe is definitely a plus

✿ ft. noel noa

sitting alone at the bar at a christmas party you weren't invited to wasn't the best feeling in the world. your best friend, who used you as her work partner's plus one, had left you, preferring to "work." the poor athletes were almost running from her if they saw her, leaving her to wallow in the corner without you.

the non-alcoholic drinks you were forced to consume as the designated driver weren't exactly helping you pass the time, only making your bladder feel smaller and smaller. getting up from the bar, you ventured deeper into the party to find the bathroom.

as you walked, your eyes couldn't help but wander around, trying to find your friend, but to no avail. you slowly remembered what happened right before you entered the party.

"[y/n]! you have to keep your eyes open!"

"what? take a breath-"

"i can't! not when noel noa is here!" she frantically flicked her head from side to side, scanning the empty streets like he was going to appear like magic. 

“that’s the famous striker, right?”

"only the number one striker in the world! you have to find him and call me. if i see him here and interview him, i could get that promotion." she sounded hopeful, a smile on her face, but it dropped, her rbf shining through her happy persona when she saw your skeptical expression.

"pwease [y/n]~" she grabbed your hands and begged, almost getting down on her knees. 

“ok, ok! i’ll help you find this guy. just please get off the floor. someone could have puked on that.”

"thank you, [y/n]!" her bone-crushing hug knocked the wind out of you. once that bodyguard let you in, she ran around like a chicken without a head, trying to find the mystery man. too bad you didn't know what the famous striker looked like. you didn't know his nationality or team; you just knew his name and the position he played. not very helpful.

the tinkling of martini glasses and the sound of heels across the marble floors echoed across the room. popping champagne bottles, squeals, screams, and forced laughter would occasionally pipe up, always sounding the same. a massive christmas tree filled with tinsel, ornaments, lights, and anything else you could imagine decorated the room perfectly, lighting up the space and almost brushing the towering ceilings. you felt like an ant in the room, as if the room knew you didn't belong here.

the bathroom line felt like eternity, like when you were younger and had a nightmare, that stupid clock ticking every second going on until you finally fell asleep under your blankets. soon the line dwindled and dwindled down until you finally could get in and out. you dried your hands on the air dryer and shook your hands to get any remaining water off as you walked out the door.

now, you have nothing to do. you didn't work for this company, hell, you didn't even know what they did. everyone here looked rich and reeked of money. at least when you were in line for the bathroom, you had a purpose. but now you were just standing there. you felt like a ghost, people passing through you, not even acknowledging your existence.

you just wanted to go back to the bar; who cared what look that bartender would give you. so that's what you did, walking past women with candy cane red lips and men who smelled like more than you would ever make in a lifetime. suits and dresses that seemed so foreign to you.

but out of the corner of your eye, you saw your friend in that velvet low-cut tight dress on the second-floor mezzanine. she was talking to some expensive-looking man with a girl probably half his age on his arm; she was putting on that fake smile and laugh.

she had left you for a solid two and a half hours; you were going to hang out with someone. and that someone was going to be her.

so you made your way to the luxurious stairs, cascading velvety carpets that could rival the British monarchs. you excused yourself when you bumped into someone and finally reached the stairs, some men coming down them.

while passing a rather tall and muscular man, one of his friends whistled and laughed at the man who paused, along with you. both of you turned to see his friends; the one whistling and giggling looked way too drunk to be going anywhere near stairs. the man was holding onto a bland-looking one with blue eyes who looked rather nervous, trying to steady the swaying one.

you shot him a confused glance, your eyebrows raising in confusion, before turning your attention to the man standing beside you. his head was tilted upward, his gaze fixated on an arrangement of ferns- mistletoe, delicately suspended above. the soft glow from twinkling fairy lights adorned the surroundings.

in that moment, realization dawned upon you, and your eyes widened with a mixture of surprise and understanding. the air around you felt harder to inhale. you instinctively took a step back, caught off guard by the situation. however, the man beside you moved quicker than you’ve ever seen, his eyes widening in concern.

time seemed to slow as his arms encircled you, preventing any further descent down the stairs. the touch was both reassuring and electrifying. as you looked up into his eyes, you couldn't help but notice the subtle warmth that lingered. it felt so cliche. 

"are you alright?" his voice was filled with genuine concern, and you could feel yourself relax into his arms with those words.

but even with his words, your mind trailed off, going to admire him. what was he? a model? his cologne smells expensive, like every other perfume and cologne here, but at the same time it was distinct. there was an underlying uniqueness, a grounding minimalism that set it apart. you couldn't quite pinpoint it, but it held an allure that was nothing like you ever felt before.

you felt gross, disgusted even at what you were doing, taking him in like this, memorizing the details- his scent, the curve of his lips. god, you felt like a pervert. you chided yourself, feeling a twinge of discomfort at your own actions.

"i'm fine... sorry about that," you stammered, breaking the spell of your silent observations. awkwardness settled in, magnified by the awareness that his friends, the blonde one with a sly smirk and the black-haired one appearing uneasy, were keenly observing the exchange. your gaze flickered between them, questioning the dynamics of the trio.

"it’s fine. as long as you’re alright." the moment ended with him helping you back onto your feet, looking you over to double-check if you weren't lying.

"it's fine. as long as you're alright," he reassured, gracefully helping you back onto your feet. his lingering concern painted a genuine sincerity across his features, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of gratitude. as the moment concluded, his eyes scanned over you once more, ensuring your well-being. 

“don’t forget-” hick “to kiss you two,” the drunk man laughed hard, almost falling off of the bland one's shoulder who grabbed him quickly.

"don't forget-" a hiccup interrupted the drunken man's proclamation, “to kiss you two,” he abruptly erupted into laughter, teetering dangerously on the edge of his bland companion's shoulder. 

who the hell was this guy? your life wasn't some circus to watch, forcing you to kiss this random stranger.

"i'm sorry about him," the boy apologized, his eyes reflecting a mix of embarrassment and genuine remorse. "come on, let's go." he attempted to drag the blonde one down the stairs, who continued to whine about wanting to witness some "action." eventually, the duo disappeared, leaving you and the intriguing white-haired man alone on the stairs.

the silence that followed carried a unique tension, the remnants of an awkward encounter mingling with the loud ambiance of the surroundings. The mistletoe above seemed to cast a soft glow, as if nature itself was conspiring against you two.

"that guy’s something," you remarked, breaking the quietude with a light-hearted tone, attempting to diffuse the lingering discomfort. The white-haired man offered a wry smile, his eyes holding a subtle amusement that hinted at shared bemusement.

“so… why are you here?” you ask him to try to prolonged the conversation for as long as possible.

"They're organizing this celebration for my team."

“you’re team?” you ask a little confused.

“Bastard München” he responds curtley.

Realization finally dawns on you, and you recognize the man in front of you.

“are you- are you noel noa?” you stammered, feeling like some teenage girl. you didn’t even know much about this guy, but your friend went on and on about him. you always tuned her out, but she seemed so passionate about him.

“kiss! smoochie smoochie time~!”

“kaiser!” 

"get-" a loud grunting noise left the blonde, and a squawking noise left the other, "off of me, isagi!" they struggled against each other, arms reaching out to try and push them off each other.

“i thought they left,” you tried to laugh but when you looked back at the famous man in front of you, you stopped. his face almost seemed blank with a tinge of surprise if you could even call it that.

“it can’t be helped,” he sighed, his voice carrying a gentle undertone that resonated with unspoken emotions. as he reached up, his fingers delicately traced the outline of your face, tenderly tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. his eyes, a reflection of emotions too deep for words, held yours in a silent conversation.

a quiet pause lingered in the air, building anticipation, before he slowly leaned in. in that moment, time seemed to suspend, and the world around you faded away. 

his breath, warm against your skin, and as he closed the distance between you, his lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss starting with a tender press of lips. both of your arms remained at your sides not wanting to overstep the invisible boundary. even without hands, it was as if each touch was a gentle caress, a delicate deliberate pressure. the sensation was feather-light, a sweet brush of affection that spoke volumes in its subtlety. each movement was a caress, as if exploring the contours of your lips in a sweet, unhurried dance. it was the opposite of forceful, a slow, deliberate exploration, leaving a lingering warmth.

even when he pulled away, cheeks dusted pink, promising his manager would send you tickets to the next match, you could still smell that expensive cologne after he left.

[svt-rosalie]

. . . ♡ ROSALIE ! ? 🏴‍☠️ SCENARIO ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ ATEEZ PRESENT, 2019 ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

© 2023 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!

warnings. rosalie being a fan girl, bts being rosie’s other group of older brothers, ateez is awkward babies, wooyoungie has a little crushhhhhhhh, horrible writing, spelling mistakes, bad jokes,

authors note. please bear with me…i have not written an actual scenario chapter in a WHILE, so this a practice for me sorry to do with ateez but it’s okay hopefully you guys like it

The stadium felt so small yet so big at the same time. The amount of people was the cause of this, Rosalie thought, it seemed as if the space the fans took up was the whole stadium and their screams were deafening.

The air felt thick as she and her band members made their to their assigned seats, chalking it up to the amount of people residing in the stadium and not the nerves racing through out her body like a cheetah through the jungle.

The group was heading inside after their interview that took place outside, glad to be out of the cold. The dress that Rosalie was styled in was a strapless red velvet textured skin tight gown with a slit down her right leg with a (uncomfortably big) bow on the back, though it was a gorgeous dress, it was not meant to be worn during December. She needs to remind herself to speak to her stylist about investing in some long sleeves.

Rosalie felt a sense of accomplishment for herself and her older brothers, they had a tough year and even though their leader could not be there with them, they were going to perform for him and for carats despite everything. Rosie was knocked out of her trance when she felt a tap on her shoulder indicating someone needed/wanted her attention.

“Ahh, Yoongi oppa!” She smiled brightly giving him a big hug, Yoongi patted her head in response with a laugh. Rosie knows he doesn’t like skin ship all that much but ignores his protest everytime and hugs him with all her might.

Yoongi lightly pulls away looking Rosie looks at him continuing to smile as happily as she can. “Quit the bullshit, why are you so nervous? I can tell something’s up?” Rosie shakes her head with a pout “No, nothing is wrong.”

That was the biggest lie if Yoongi ever did see one.

“You don’t have to lie to me.” He sighed and Rosie did as well. She looked around wondering if any of her group mates were listening in, doubting they could with how loud it was, she could barely hear Yoongi speak.

“There is just a lot going on at the moment and it’s hard not having Scoups oppa here with us.” She admitted.

Yoongi nodded in understanding.

“If you ever need me, you call me. I’ll always listen.” He said, rubbing his thumb across the top of her hand. Rosalie nodded with a smile before being interrupted by a loud voice.

“If you ever need us! Let’s clarify that.” Seokjin stated wrapping his arms around Rosie’s shoulders, Taehyung and Jungkook not too far behind him. Letting out a bright giggle that seemed to light up the room, she pulled the three other older boys into hugs.

“I’m so excited to see you guys perform!” She says excited.

“Well hopefully we do you proud, it’s gonna be a good one. We’re performing your favorite so don’t cry please!” Jungkook says. “You’re performing Mikrokosmos?” She squealed.

They all nodded laughing at her antics. “I’m gonna go find the seats we’re gonna be sitting in but i’ll call you guys if I don’t see you at the end! Okay?” Rosalie asked. “Sounds good to us, be safe and if we didn’t say it tonight you look gorgeous!” Taehyung said. Rosie pouts and puts her hands over heart nodding in thanks.

The boys in Bangtan always knew how to make her feel special. Yes, she has 12 older brothers and one situationship that has not been figured out yet that she can go to for advice and comfort, but having an outside perspective on situations that she doesn’t want to speak about with her members was always helpful! The seven boys always seem to know when she needs said comfort after all these years.

As Rosalie walked with her head slightly down to watch her feet to make sure she didn’t step on her dress, she didn’t notice the boy walking with their back towards her who was talking to his own group members.

“Mingi watch out!” A voice shouted and tried to grab at him before he ran into the 5’10 female but it was no use the two went down in a what looked like a bowling pin getting knocked down by a bowling ball.

Rosalie groaned in pain, “Yep, there goes the hip.” she says sarcastically.

“We are so sorry sunbaenim! We didn’t see you there and by the time we did Mingi accidentally hit you. We are so sorry again!” The voice of Yunho surfaced as they all bowed whilst the boy, Mingi, who knocked her down helped her get back up to her feet.

Rosalie waved her hands, “No, no it’s okay! I wasn’t watching where I was going either, I’m so scared to slip in this dress that I wasn’t watching straight ahead for other people.” She reassured the Ateez boys as much as she could.

“Am I going to have 13 people jumping me, because I just got off hiatus and do not want to go leave again.” Mingi mumbled to himself, but somehow Rosalie still heard and laughed loudly surprising all the boys.

It was a bit reassuring to them that she laughed and smiled, but that didn’t tell them if it was ‘oh your so funny laugh it’s okay they won’t hurt you’ laugh/smile or a ‘yes my 13 other members who could probably bench press you will hurt you for knocking their precious only female member maknae over’ laugh/smile.

“No don’t worry Mingi, it’s okay. I’ve gotten worse from my own members. Mingyu oppa acts like we’re in WWE and body slams me into pools, so I think I can handle a little tumble.”

All the boys nodded, glad that one of their favorite idols was okay.

“Well we’re very excited to see your performance Sunbaenim!” San said smiling brightly.

Rosalie couldn’t help but smile back, “Thank you! I’m so excited to see yours! I know the entire dance to Wonderland so I will definitely be showing my support for you guys tonight.”

It’s like Ateez just kept getting surprised by their sunbaenim more and more as they talked. First she jokes around with them like their long time friends, then she says she knows their recent comeback Wonderland, and she knows Mingi’s name.

Wait. . . she knows Mingi’s name!

“Oh, Rosalie sunbaenim do you know us?” Hongjoong asked.

“Of course I do! I’ve been an Atiny since your guys debut, I love your music and sound. I’ve been wanting to become friends with you guys for a while but my schedule and company haven’t allowed me the time.” She said subconsciously pouting.

Wooyoung couldn’t help but think “Wow, she’s pretty” in her stunning makeup that brought her best features and the dress that matches her curves so well. He was heaven in her presence.

“Oh thank you! You all are handsome too!” She said smiling proudly.

“I said that out loud.” Wooyoung said, eyes wide and mouth gaped open. His members laughed and clapped him on the back.

“Wooyoung hyung has had a crush on you since your debut—” Jongho says, or at least tries to before his mouth was covered by said person.

Rosalie’s eyes widen in shock, a red blush covered her face. Thank god her makeup artist decided to apply the foundation a little heavier tonight.

Wooyoung dragged Jongho away before the maknae could say anything more embarrassing saying his bye’s for himself and the younger boy.

The others that stayed laughed. “Well, we should probably follow them before Wooyoung takes out our main vocalist, but we’ll be cheering you on Rosalie sunbaenim.” Seonghwa says.

Rosalie nodded in understanding, adjusting her dress a little. “I’ll be cheering you guys on too! I’ll speak to my manager about getting in contact with yours so we can go to dinner sometime! I would like to become friends with you all if that’s alright!”

“Of course!” Mingi says a little too quick.

Rosalie couldn’t help but laugh again, “I’ll see you all shortly, it was nice to bump into you.” she says waving and bowing before turning around and walking towards her group knowing damn well most of them were watching the interaction and would definitely get questioned later.

Yeosang looked between all his members before asking “Did that really just happen? Rosalie sunbaenim wants to have dinner with us?”

San nodded in a daze “She was so pretty too! I hope we can become great friends with her.” They all nodded in agreement to his statement before walking off to find Wooyoung before he killed Jongho.

Oh, just you wait boys — that statement will become more true than you know!

taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea

click here to join the taglist!

[breezii2176]

I Want You

Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

18+ Minors DNI

~Marauder’s all live and Harry is basically a newborn~

“Y/n can you hold him for a moment?” Lily asked as she walked towards her best friend.

Y/n smiled and held out her arms, ready to hold the young sleeping boy, cradling him to her own chest. She was completely entranced by him, slowly slipping into her thoughts and out of reality.

Thoughtlessly she travelled through the Potter’s house and sat on the couch, not once looking away from Harry. She hadn’t realised everyone had sat around her until someone reached out to her.

“Hey n/n? You okay baby?” Sirius spoke as he gently laid his hand on her shoulder, bringing her out of her thoughts.

“Hmm?” She asked, now staring at her lover.

“I asked if you were okay, you’ve been stuck in your thoughts about ten minutes now.” Sirius chuckled as Y/n blushed, slightly embarrassed at how long she’d been in her thoughts.

“So when can we expect a little one out of you two eh?” James broke the silence, he was sat on the arm chair slightly to the left of them with Lily sat on his lap and his arms around her middle.

“A mini Y/n would be utterly delightful.” Remus spoke as he stared at the unmarried couple.

“We aren’t even marri-“ Y/n was cut off as Sirius spoke up.

“Whenever she says she’s ready, I’m happy to start trying when she tells me.” Sirius winked at her after speaking.

His words replayed in her head, all she could do was stare at him, Sirius never had stated he’d wanted children and now this?

Y/n stood and padded over towards James and Lily, passing Harry over to them before going to sit next to Sirius once again.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, angling herself to lie against him with her legs over his own. Sirius smiled and kissed the crown of her head, holding her close to him.

“I’m not sure when we’ll have children.” Y/n spoke softly, her hand that was held between her and Sirius unconsciously moving to hold her stomach.

Sirius took note yet said nothing, opting to just hold her tighter. Everyone around nodded in understanding, changing the topic to any and everything.

Time flew by as their laughter filled the house, the five adults not having a care about anything going on in the outside world. Some time after the sun had set is when Remus bid his farewell, hugging all of his friends and placing a kiss on Harry’s forehead.

“We should get a move on too.” Sirius spoke, nodding in Lily and James’ direction before leading you both toward the front door.

“We’ll see you again soon.” Y/n spoke, grabbing her coat and reaching for the front door.

“We look forward to it, stay safe and goodnight.” Lily replied.

Y/n and Sirius walked with his arm around her waist, holding her close. They stayed in a comfortable silence for a short while before she spoke up.

“I didn’t know you wanted a family.” Y/n kept looking ahead, missing the shock that crossed Sirius’ face.

“I didn’t either until I met you, I thought James was all the family I needed but then you waltzed in and changed everything. I’d give anything so long as it meant I’d be yours for as long as you’d have me.” Sirius stopped walking, turning to face the woman he loves as she also came to a stop.

“Siri what are you doing?” She questioned, rolling her eyes before gasping, covering her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.

“Y/n L/N, you are the love I could’ve never asked for,” Sirius paused as he knelt down, reaching into one of his pockets, “I wish to spend the rest of our lives together, to make many memories, to travel and do whatever your heart desires, so please I ask, will you marry me?”

Sirius opened the little black velvet box, an antique ring that has clearly been passed down in the Black family, sat within.

Words failed her as she just nodded and leapt into his arms, kissing him passionately trying to convey her emotions into the kiss.

“I love you of course I’ll become your wife,” She radiated her happiness, “I have but one question, how on earth did you get this ring from your family?”

“Reggie.” He answered shortly, slipping the extravagant ring onto her finger, shockingly fitting near perfect.

~~~~~

A few days had passed and they hadn’t yet told a soul, staying within the confines of their own home celebrating in their own way.

“Stop teasing please.” Sirius groaned, his hands tied to the headboard, their naked bodies grinding against one another.

She giggled in return, fingernails gently raking down his chest, leaning in she left soft fleeting kisses along his neck and jaw. Her hips slowly moving back and forth, his erection twitching against her heat.

“No, I like it when you beg.” Y/n whispered, sucking a hickey on his soft spot. Sirius’ moans filled the room, his hips bucking up into hers trying to get some more friction.

“Please Y/n, I fucking need you. Let me inside your tight cunt please baby.” Sirius whimpered as she lifted herself off of him, moving down his body and leaving kisses in her wake.

“Let me have a little more fun first.” She whispered, grabbing his cock by the base and giving it a firm squeeze.

His long length twitched once again, leaking some pre cum as she leaned in and licked from base to tip before taking his head in her mouth. Gently sucking and licking his tip she went no further than that, pumping the rest of him with her hand.

Y/n hummed and released his tip with a pop, crawling back onto his lap and pulling him into a fiery kiss, their tongues and teeth clashing as she lowered herself onto him, sitting herself snug onto his lap.

Sirius moaned as he finally got sheathed inside of her, the smallest of tears coming to his eyes from being so overstimulated.

“Poor Siri, let me make you come undone for me. I want you to paint my walls white.” Y/n whispered into his ear, licking the shell.

Sirius only nodded completely in a daze as she rode him, alternating between fast bouncing and slowly grinding. She was using him to chase her own climax and he knew it, revelling in knowing that and helping him reach his own climax faster.

Y/n held onto Sirius with one hand as she reached for her wand with the other, still riding him as she grabbed her wand undoing his binds before throwing her wand away once again.

“I’m close, make me cum.”

Her breathless pants and high pitched moans were all that left her body as Sirius flipped them, grabbing onto her hips and ramming himself inside of her at an ungodly fast pace.

His right hand slipping between their bodies and playing with her clit, drawing fast circle on it as he felt her pussy clench and throb with want around him.

His name leaving her like a prayer as she came around him, her legs shaking and even in her overstimulated state with her pleas of not being able to handle more, Sirius knew she could.

He didn’t stop or slow with his ministrations for a second, fucking her tired body straight into another high and still tubbing her abused clit.

By the time of her second orgasm, her clenching had Sirius spill himself into her. He slowed his thrusts down before coming to a stop, staring at her spent body before pulling out.

Watching his cum slip out of her cunt made him perplexed, loving the eighth and yet hating that it’s not staying inside and traveling to try and make a child.

Sirius groaned and reached between her legs and she squealed and tried to close them, his fingers pushing his seed back into her sensitive hole, making sure it is all out to good use before he leans down and starts lapping at her clit.

“Siri I can’t take anymore.. too much Fuck!” Despite her words she hand a smile on her face and spread her legs a little more.

“Oh I’m nowhere near done with you tonight my love and you will give me many more orgasms tonight.”

[juanarc-thethird]

Can you do a part three of Love Confessions? But this time with Velvet, Coco, Reese, and Arslan?

Love confession #3

Jaune: I'm sorry, I know it's sudden, but… I love you! Please go out with me

------------------

Velvet: I also feel the same way.

Jaune: *Happy* Really?!

Velvet: Yes, Ever since I meet you, I've been thinking about you the whole time.

Jaune: Velvet... *Grabs her hands* Can I kiss you?

Velvet: Please do

They both slowly give each other a sweet kiss, sealing their fate together.

Velvet: Now drop your pants.

Jaune: Eh?!

------------------

Coco: Oh~ you want to go out with someone as dangerous as me?~

Jaune: *Confident* Yes

Coco: *Giggles* Ok then, but don't complain when I put you on a leash later~

Jaune: *Scaroused* W-What do you mean?

Coco: I mean you… *She gets close to his ear and whispers* ...you will be my lovely little dog~

Jaune: *Turn on* (I'm in danger~)

Coco: Now follow me, since you're my boyfriend I have some outfits I want to see you in, *Quietly* and some sexy ones for later~💕

Jaune: What was that?

Coco: Don't worry about it

------------------

Reese: *Blushing* Me?! You're interested in someone like me?!

Jaune: Of course!

Reese: I-I like you too, but to be honest I never thought you would want me to be your girlfriend.

Jaune: *Takes her hand* So it's a yes?

Reese: *Hugs his arm* It's a yes.

Jaune: Wanna play some games?

Reese: Oh heck yeah! *Blushing while giggling*

Jaune: What's funny?

Reese: Nothing, I'm just happy that you're finally my boyfriend~

Jaune: *Blushing* Oh! I'm happy you are my girlfriend too.

------------------

Arslan: Um... are you sure?

Jaune: Why wouldn't I be?

Arslan: Well, I'm kind of rough when it comes to interacting with others.

Jaune: So? That's what I like about you. You are also so strong, beautiful, you are honest, you care about your friends, you always help others, and when you get nervous you make that cute face that makes me feel-

Arslan: *Red* Stop! I see that you are serious about this. *Ahem* Ok, I'll... I'll go out with you.

Jaune: LET"S GOOOOOOO!!!!!

Arslan covers his mouth immediately.

Arslan: *Red* Keep it down, it's embarrassing.

Jaune: *Trying to talk in her hand* (**you are so cute~)

Arslan: Shut up!

[pilfappreciator]

floyd with a bold and flirty husb male reader headcanons <333

Mans was literally tortured and almost died. LET HIM HAVE A HUBBY I SAY!!

Floyd x Reader: just an emo and his husband

Includes: Male! Reader, fluff, slight angst, depictions of marriage/domesticity, LOTS of down bad behavior (mostly on Reader's end), mentioned John Dory

💔 You guys are literally married, so chances are Floyd cares for you deeply. He's been to hell and back in the past few years so finally having someone in his life who so easily helps ease that pain by just... existing in his general area??

💔 But you're not some rabid fan who paid a fortune just to come meet him backstage so he could sign a poster. You're his HUSBAND. The two of you have HISTORY. Like he actually MARRIED your ass... there was a wedding and vows and EVERYTHING!!

💔 He's more grateful than you'll ever know <33

💔 With that being said, this man definitely gets flustered whenever you start putting the moves on him

💔 Not to say he doesn't know how to be suave and charming himself, don't get me wrong! He was in a super popular boy band back in the day, so obviously he's got SOME semblance of game going on (definitely feel like Bruce tried to teach his brothers how to bag hotties when they were younger ajshjakaak—)

💔 So yeah, he's obviously gonna react differently whenever you're the one giving him compliments lol

💔 If you're being more like? Playfully flirty?? Like as in you're coming over and leaning up against the wall beside him, giving him appreciative glances and flirting as if you've never met before???

💔 He's either gonna match your energy and reciprocate, or just sigh and roll his eyes

💔 "Hey sexy, come here often?" *bites lip*

"Please stop blocking the door to the bathroom 🙄"

💔 He'll act like he hates it he does not

💔 But he DOES hate if you smack his ass tho okay DO NOT DO IT!! He'll start having flashbacks from his Brozone days (cough cough John Dory cough cough)

💔 HOWEVER!!! If you're very genuine in your flirting? Like if you're constantly waxing poetic about how he's the most beautiful man to exist, or he catches you staring adoringly when he's trying to have a conversation with you, or he wakes up one morning to find you with the softest look in your eyes as you tell him how lucky you are to have him and how you could never be more grateful to have met????

💔 This man is turning the same shade of his hair VERY QUICKLY ALSDHLKAJDS (he might require medical attention ://)

💔 If you wanna fluster this man even more? Flirt with him in public

💔 NO CUZ LIKE?? He'll tolerate your bad pickup lines and cheesy romantic gestures in the comfort of your shared home no problem, but if you pull ANY of that shit where OTHER TROLLS CAN SEE????

💔 Screw Velvet and Veneer, call him pookie bear around any of his brothers and you're gonna be writing his obituary cuz this man WILL DIE

💔 But if you smack is ass at the farmers market you ARE getting divorced ://

💔 I feel like after the whole "being imprisoned in a diamond prison and regularly getting the life siphoned outta you for who knows how long" situation, Floyd becomes a little touch starved

💔 Maybe not in a strong sense (COUGH COUGH John Dory COUGH COUGH), but any sorta non-harmful touch definitely starts to hit different after you've been tortured for a period of time

💔 As his husband, you have a duty to hug/cuddle/caress this man as much as possible okay THAT IS NON-NEGOTIABLE!! Gently wrap your arms around him from behind as he's washing dishes, nuzzle his face when you're going to bed, rub your thumb against the back of his palm whenever you're holding hands, ANYTHING!!! He will melt <33

AHHHHH MY FAVORITE EMO!! THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT ANON THIS WAS SO CUTEE!! Floyd literally DIED in the movie okay, he deserves a husband to do troll taxes with 🥺

[brights-place]

OH MY GOD I LOVED THE VELVET ONE! UHM CAN YOU PLEASE DO VENEER NEXT IF YOU CAN??!?

Dating Veneer Headcannons

Pairings: Veneer X Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: Dating veneer headcannons! Yipee sorry this came one late I've been busy with work and my personal its like so much right now that it's worrying rn but I hope you like these!

- Veneer was close to you well cause you were Velvet and his manager - He befriended you very quickly and would smile at you everytime he see's you but after awhile he realized that he always got nervous when you were around, never truly understanding his own feelings.

- He asked velvet for help and she pointed out that he liked you in an romantic way which made him shocked - He soon starts to flirt with you which always ends up with you giggling at how bad they where but you still accepted when he asked to take you on an date - 3-5 dates later you two started to date and it was amazing he loves you so much and would cling onto you - He lovess giving you small gifts he'd just straight up walk to you and hand you the gift with an huge grin on his face "(Name) I bough you an gift its matching bracelets for you, and I"

- Veneer tried so hard not to tell you they were using an troll for their talent and had slipped up many times velvet and covered his mouth glaring at him and speaking for Veneer - Veener would make sure you you get an good amount of breaks mainly because veneer likes to make sure when your on an break he could gossip with you and talk about the most random things - He finds it easier to open up to people, compared to Velvet. You specifically being someone he holds very close which was you! So thats why he gossips with you - Also loves when you get him little gifts or if you make him something he'd tear up and squeal - Loves showing of his show outfits for you - In general, he loves being around you and can’t get enough of you. You make him feel so grateful.

- He can sometimes struggle with communication he loves you and trusts you enough to speak his mind  - if he sees your sad or in a bad mood he will drop everything he’s doing just to help you even if that's rehearsals and velvet would yell at him later he wants to focus on you

- he’ll spoil you rotten the got that famous people moneyyyy! probably gets more gifts for you than he does himself

- cant stand up to his sister for himself or anyone else but when it comes to you? HE DOSEN'T GIVE AN SHIT! HE WILL FIGHT SOMEONE

- Veneer is SOOOO clingy - Clings onto you when he's tired like wraps himself around you two times (Cause he can do that bro's an spaghetti doll) - He is 100% the little spoon. Even if hes taller then you, he will make it work. - However he will never pass up an opportunity to be the big spoon. He honestly doesn't mind at all! just as long as your in his arms or he's in yours he'd be happy

- any chance he gets to hug you or kiss your face he will with no mercy…

- whenever he’s stressed he’ll just sit down in front of you and lay his head on your thighs as he looks up at you lovingly - He would literally call you all sorts of cute nicknames or just some mebarssing nicknames just not because he usually does this with alot of people but for you it would be constant and intentional while he wiggles his eyebrows - Makes stupid expressions while your sad as you giggle kissing his lips - I would say Veneers love languages are gifts and physical touch cause this man would 100% do that - likes doing your hair his hair styling skills are amazing he does it for fun like how velvet does so it always comes out great not as good as velvets though Sometimes he allows velvet to use you to test out styles she might do on herself and veneer for fun

- It breaks his heart when you’re upset, so he uses everything in his power to make you happy again. He’ll talk to you, telling you that everything’s gonna be okay. - Within a few minutes, you won’t even remember what you were sad about. - When you heard they where frauds you stared at Veneer who looked at you quickly as your voice that was in an whisper "veneer..." veneer stared at you before hopping into the car with velvet - They used an troll which was ILLEGAL AND COULD MAKE THEM GO TO JAIL! you couldn't help but stare at veneer with betrayal and sadness in your eyes - you made sure that the small troll was alright and apologized that you didn't know at all this was going on - You also scolded crimp about how she was helping them and made sure to tell the authorities crimp was also apart of it ... You ain't letting crimp slide she helped the two - Even though that happened you still visited him in prison you wouldn't lie to yourself he looks great in orange but even though you cried when seeing the Veneer hang his head in shame you wanted to hug him but the glass between you couldn't allow that

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[its-vannah]

Vigilante Sh*t | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: Y'all, this is a bad b*tch fic. Prepare yourselves.

Warnings: Death of a major character, attempted murder, divorce, arranged marriage, marriage, mentions of consummating a marriage, pregnancy

Midnights Masterlist

For as long as you can remember, Lucerys Velaryon had been one of your closest friends. As children, the two of you were much too timid to meddle with politics. You preferred to stay out of the limelight.

That was until you had recieved the news of his death. When a messenger had told you what had happened, you felt your knees give out beneath you.

Don't get sad, get even

Steadying yourself against a nearby wall, you tried to calm your nerves. He wasn't meant to die. Not now, not this young. And you were ready for revenge—even if it meant taking it out on your own husband.

-------------------------------

When it has been announced that you were betrothed to Aemond Targaryen, your family had been thrilled. Finally, one of their children would marry into nobility.

But you were severely disappointed.

From what you had seen, Aemond was a menacing, cruel man who did anything he could to elevate his status. You had heard rumors that, if he could, he'd kill his own brother to become King.

Even Lucerys feared for your safety entering a marriage with him, reminding you that your friendship would be put on hold. But trying to convince your parents to end the betrothal was impossible. It was too late.

Still, Lucerys had persisted.

"Couldn't you be wed to Jace?" He suggested, "He's still nobility. Your parents would be happy, woukdnt they? Please, Y/N, just try."

You raised a brow, "You want me to marry your brother?"

Someone sweet and kind and fun

He shrugged, "I think it'd be quite a nice match, actually."

"It's too late, Luc, I already tried. They'll have my head if I go against their wishes."

With a frown, he admitted defeat, "I just don't want to lose you. You're the closest friend I have. You're like a sister, really."

Pulling him into a hug, you pressed a kiss to his temple, "That will never change, Luc. I promise."

Until you found out that he had died, and your husband had been the one who killed him.

You did some bad things, but I'm the worst of them

Nothing made your blood boil more. He would regret his decision one way or another.

-------------------------------

Your handmaiden pulled a velvet black dress over your head, lacing it in the back until it was perfectly draped over your body.

Lately I've been dressing for revenge

It was a bold move, on your part. To wear Targaryen black in a sea of Hightower green. But it was a move you were willing to take.

Draw the cat eye, sharp enough to kill a man

Tucking a dagger in your bodice, you were ready for revenge.

They say looks can kill and I might try

Making your way to the dining hall, you remained stoic even in your grief. You were going to get your way.

Entering the hall, you moved to sit beside Aemond. Normally, he didn't even bat an eye your way. But when he saw his mother's cold hard stare your direction, his shot you a warning glance.

Taking a seat, he grabbed you by the wrist, practically hissing at you.

"You're upsetting the Queen," He said in a low whisper, "Out of all the gowns you have, you chose one so bold?"

I don't dress for women

You played dumb, "Bold? This is one of my favorites. Didn't you know?"

"Remove it."

I don't dress for men

"Right here? I hardly think its appropriate," You replied, the corners of your mouth going up, "No, I think I'll leave it on."

Tightening his grip on your wrist, he grit his teeth, "Now."

And I don't dress for villains

"My life doesn't revolve around you, Aemond," You hissed, "I'll wear what I wish."

"Don't make me ask you again."

The lady simply had enough

"Don't make me say no, then." You said, eyes narrowing.

And crossing all of mine

Pulling you up from your chair by the wrist, the whole table turned to look at the two of you.

While he was doing lines

Aemond forced a smile on his face, "Excuse us, Lady Y/N has some matters she'd like to discuss."

It was so silent that you could only hear the clicking of Aemond's boots against the stone floor.

I'm on my vigilante shh again

Shoving you into your chambers, you fell back onto the floor, catching yourself with your hands. Reaching into your bodice, you pulled out your dagger, lunging towards him with the weapon held high.

He spun you back, kicking your ankle out, and pinned half of your body to the bed, the dagger now held firmly to your throat.

Through bated breaths, tears pricked your eyes, "You took the life of the one person who meant the world to me."

Sometimes I wonder which one will be your last lie

"It was an accident."

Grunting, you shook your head, careful to avoid the edge of the knife, "Doesn't change the fact that you didn't, and that he's dead."

He was silent, so you continued, "Let me free. Annul our marriage and I will go without a word."

"A word of what?"

She needed cold hard proof so I gave her some

You inhaled, "The bastard you fathered with my handmaiden. I'm sure your mother would be delighted to hear of it."

"How did you figure it out?"

Someone told his white collar crimes to the FBI

"It wasn't that hard," You said, "Isn't she pregnant again?"

He loosened his grip, "I let you go, and you go without a word?"

"Not a sound," You promised, "And you're secret—and image—will remain intact."

He groaned, pushing himself off of you, "You're a vile woman, you know that?"

"And you're a sick, twisted man."

The marriage was annulled the next morning, and Aemond explained that your marriage had never been consummated. To tell the truth, he had been too drunk to remember if that had been accurate.

Although he was initially denied the request by Allicent, he reminded his mother that, out of all the women in the seventh, he could find another with more power to her name to carry his children. He didn't want the Targaryen name to be soiled by his wife.

After his mother nodded to Aegon, it didn't take long for the marriage to be annulled. By that point, you were already on your way to Driftmark.

You had left with a small trunk of your belongings, opting to leave anything with a hint of your past life with Aemond behind. No green dresses or hair pins, no Hightower crests.

Knowing your family would refuse to allow you back into their home, you went to the only place that ever really felt like home.

Walking into the keep, you were suddenly overcome with grief. You were in the gardens, where you snd Lucerys had chased each other as children.

The memories, however sweet they once were, now felt painful. You tried to push them away, unable to come to terms with your grief.

Kneeling in front of a stone bench, you traced the spot where your initials had been engraved. He had always felt like a brother to you, and now he was gone.

You heard someone clear their throat behind you, and immediately jumped, the hood of your cloak slipping off your head and onto your shoulders.

Turning around, your eyes met Jace Velaryon's. Surprise settled into your body as he looked down on you.

And she looks so pretty

"Y/N?" He asked, convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him.

Jumping up from your spot beside the bench, you wrapped him in a tight embrace, arms thrown around his shoulders.

Your feet dangled off the ground as he returned the embrace, burying his head in your shoulder while supporting your weight.

"I'm sorry, Jace," Your voice was just above a whisper, "I know how much he meant to you."

He just held you tighter in response, setting you back down a moment later, filled with questions.

"How—Why—When—" Jace furrowed his brows, unsure of the reason of your arrival, "Is he here?"

You shook your head, "No, I traveled alone. It'll all make sense soon, I promise. But I need to speak with your mother."

He nodded, "I'll see if I can arrange something later in the day. She's busy at the moment. Please, come inside, it's far too cold to be out here."

-------------------------------

That evening, you spoke with Rhanerya, explaining the events that had brought you to Driftmark. Touched by the love you had for her son, she pulled you into a hug, commending your bravery and sacrifice.

She welcomed you to stay with open arms, and instructed her eldest son to help you get settled.

That's when something in you switched. During the next few months at Driftmark, you and Jace became closer and closer, eventually sharing a kiss in the gardens on the very bench he had found you.

It wasn't even a month later that the two of you were wed in a large ceremony, with the people of Driftmark in attendance.

For the first time since you had been shipped off to marry Aemond, and since Luc had died, you were genuinely happy.

After the wedding, Jace took you back to your shared chambers, kissing you softly, "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for. I'll be waiting when you're ready."

Now she gets the house, gets the kids, gets the pride

But nothing could keep you away from your husband. Pulling him down on the bed, you consummated your marriage that night. On that same night, unbeknownst to you, you conceived your first child.

The next time you saw your ex-husband, he was in chains in the middle of Driftmark, at the mercy of Queen Rhaenyra. And you were standing beside Jace, his hand on your swollen stomach as she decided his face.

You couldn't help but smile. Luc may not have been with you, but you couldn't have been happier alongside your husband, as the new princess, waiting for the arrival of your first child.

I don't start it, but I can tell you how it ends

Gazing up at Jace, he caught your eyes, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

[simplydannie]

Inspired by and written for @veneerandvelvet! Thank you for helping me when I needed it ❤️ Also, the small fish plushy was inspired by @saucytango idea in an piece she did!!

During a night out, the twins are left with their aunt: Cressida…. Who has been doing something horrible to Veneer…

One night, their parents come home early and catch Cressida during her act of rage. Sometimes the word “family” doesn’t mean anything to some…

“Do we have to go Aunt Cressida’s?” Veneer asked as he fiddled with his stuffed fish toy. It was a gift Velvet had given to him after Sparkles died, it was the only thing that comforted him…and the only thing that still does when his sister wasn’t around. “Me and Velvet and stay by ourselves for a little bit. We’re older now.”

Their father gave a small chuckle in the front seat, “Oh yes. At seven years old your old enough to stay by yourself and drive.”

“Really?” Veneer exclaimed.

“Ven, we know you and your sister can manage by yourselves. It’s always nice to have an adult watch you…Especially you Veneer. God forbid, you need someone to take you to the hospital.” Their mother responded.

He sighed. Veneer hated going to their aunt’s…she was horrible. He shouldn’t hate her. He should love her; she was their mother’s sister after all. But she did things to him he never told his parents… especially Velvet. He turned to look at his sister; she was coloring in her book. She felt her brother's eyes and turned to face him.

”What?”

“…nothing…” He turned away.

Velvet arched an eyebrow. He always got weird whenever they went to their aunts, something he’d tried to hide but became more obvious.

“What happened to your eye?” She asked one day as they headed back home.

“I fell down. Aunt gave me ice.”

“When did you fall?”

“I just fell, Velvet.”

He never raised his voice at her, but that day he did, which meant only one thing…something was bothering him and he was lying. They drove up into the drive that was their aunts. Velvet gathered her things and got down before anyone.

”I’ll help Vennie mom!” She chimed. Her mother smiled and headed to the front door with her husband to greet her sister. Veneer grabbed his toy, books, and his backpack that connected to the tube around his nose. Velvet stopped him before he could get down.

”You better tell me what’s bothering you?” She demanded.

”W-what?” He asked a little taken back.

“Something has been bugging you. Actually, EVERYTIME we come to aunt Cressida’s you get like this. So what’s going on?” She placed her hands on her hips and stared him right in the eye. Veneer did his best not to avoid her stare, if he did, she’d definitely know something was wrong. He held her gaze for as long as he could…then she caved in.

”Fine. But I'm going to be watching you closely. So no lying!” She helped him down and headed towards their parents at the front door.

”…And he has a backpack now. It has his oxygen inside so it’s easier to carry around. He’s still getting used to, so he’ll want to take it off. Please make sure he has it on.” Their mother was explaining to their sister. Cressida stood leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. She eyed the twins as they neared them…she looked at them coldly, as if they were strangers, not her niece and nephew.

“Do they have things to keep them entertained?” She asked coldly.

“Oh yes! Of course! They brought their toys and coloring books.” Their mother smiled. Cressida moved aside, her gesture of signaling the twins inside. Their mother and father knelt down to give them kisses and hugs.

“We’ll be back in a couple hours.” His father scuffled Veneer’s hair. He watched his parents take off, waving as they exited the driveway.

“Well? Inside!” Their aunt screamed. Velvet entered holding her brother's hand, bringing him in closer to her. Like she said, she was going to keep a close eye on him. When they entered the home, a strange Rageon man was sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette, watching TV. He turned to eye the twins.

“Who the hell?” He commented.

“My sister’s brats. You two. To the room. Just stay there until your parents come home. I don’t feel like putting up with your shit today. And don’t you dare close the door! God, knows what mischief you two will do.” Cressida demanded. She didn’t need to tell Velvet twice. Grabbing her brother's hand tighter Velvet led them to the room they normally stayed in with their aunt.

“That guy gave me the creeps.” Veneer commented once they entered the room.

“We’ll just stay in here and upstairs until mom and dad get home. Oh! Did you bring Janga?” Velvet asked. Veneer giggled and pulled out the set. “Yes!”

The hour went by as the twins played Janga using various games and techniques they came up with on their own. Little did they know as time went by, as the more fun they had, they grew louder and louder. Cressida was sitting on top of his lap, kissing him when they heard the laughter and giggles coming from upstairs.

The man grunted, “Those kids better shut up soon!” Cressida grumbled and got off his lap.

“I’m on it.”

“That’s five points for me!” Velvet giggled.

“No! That was my point. You cheated on that one!” Veneer stated.

“WHAT THE HELL!” The twins jumped at the sound of their aunts voice.They turned to face her as she stood at the doorway, arms crossed. ”I SWEAR TO GOD VENEER IF YOU DON’T KEEP IT DOWN, YOU’LL REGRET!” She stormed back downstairs.

“Why did she only blame you? We were both being loud.” Velvet said with an annoyance in her voice.

Veneer waved it off, “It’s okay. Oh! Why don’t we play buried treasure!”

“There are not much places to hide treasure around here, Veneer.”

”We’ll make it work!” He dug around her backpack to find something small. “Got it! Okay, stay here and make the map! I’ll go hide this!” He began to head off.

”Veneer.” Velvet scolded. He turned back around sheepishly to face her. She pointed to his oxygen backpack on the floor. “Remember what mom said.” Rolling his eyes he went over to grab his backpack and put his tubing back on. He then ran out the door and headed to explore the upstairs portion of the house to find a place to hide the treasure. He went into a room… It had a boiler and some electrical outlets.

“Oh! She won't think of looking in here.” He said to himself. He tiptoed in. It was dark so he tried feeling for a switch that might power some light. His hands felt something…

CLICK.

The whole power in the house went out.

“Huh?” Velvet exclaimed as she was back in the room drawing the map. She heard a scream from the bottom of the stairs.

“SON OF A BITCH! WHO TURNED THE DAMN POWER OFF!” The male Rageon yelled. Uh oh, she thought it herself. Where did Veneer go? Velvet made her way towards the door when she heard Cressida come upstairs. She could hear the frustration and anger under her breath.

“Vennie!” Her walked turned in a sprint, she slipped and fell on her elbow. A pain steering through. It took a her moment before she heard it…

“THE HELL VENEER! YOU RUINED MY DATE NIGHT! NOW HE’S GONE! YOU STUPID, STUPID IDIOT!” Cressida screamed at the top of her lungs. She heard the commotion, the resistance.

“I- I am sorry…” She heard her brother say. “Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

“Vennie!” Velvet ignored the pain in her elbow and ran out the door, straight to Cressida. She had Veneer by his hair, tears streaming down his face. “Aunt Cressida, stop it! It was an accident!” Velvet went to pull her arm. Cressida turned towards her. She firmly grasped her by the arm and pulled her back to the room. Cressida threw her and locked the door from the outside.

“Aunt Cressida please stop!” Tears began falling down Velvet’s face as she heard the pleas and cry from her brother. “Please leave him alone! Mommy! Daddy!” Velvet banged the door…Veneer continued to beg and cry.

“Well, we may be a bit earlier than expected. I’m sure my sister wouldn’t mind it though.” Their mother said jokingly. They drove up into the driveway, the house completely dark.

“Was she going to take the kids somewhere?” Their father asked turning off the engine. They both stepped out of the car….

“Stop it!”

They heard screaming coming from the inside. They knew Cressida had company, now their fear was that he was hurting her…or their children. The twins' parents ran to the front door…it was left open. Once they entered they could hear the commotion and screams more clearly coming from upstairs.

“Mommy! Daddy!” They heard Velvet’s voice.

“My babies..” Their mother ran up the stairs…That’s when she saw her own sister beating down on her son. “CRESSIDA!” Their mother ran and tore away her sister from Veneer. The force she used knocked Cressida off her feet, her eyes wide in horror… she didn’t expect them to be back so early.

“Vennie. Sweetheart, I’m here, I’m here.” She embraced him, his face bruised and bleeding. If looks could kill, Cressida would have been dead. “How dare you!”

“Mommy? Daddy?” Their father followed Velvet’s voice. He unlocked the door to find his daughter with tears in her eyes. He knelt down and embraced her tightly. He glanced at Cressida with hate in his eyes.

“Let’s go. You are never seeing or touching my children ever again!” He scooped up Velvet in his arms, he extended his hand to his wife. “Let’s go. Let’s go before I get really mad and do something I regret.” He told her, practically begging her to leave while he still had some sort of control. She nodded. Scooping up Veneer and his backpack in his arms, she followed her husband down the stairs.

“My fishy!” Veneer extended his arm towards his stuffed fish still laying in the room. His father quickly ran in and grabbed it for him.

“Vivian let’s go.” He said.

Their mother turned around and spat at her sister.

”…I trusted you…My god, Cressida I trusted you!” She yelled.

”Vivian.” Their father called to his wife who was still up the stairs, holding on tightly to Veneer.

”How? Why? They’re family.” Tears stung her eyes, “We’re family Cressida!”

But there was no love for any of them in Cressida’s heart…. The only one she had felt love for… She glanced down the stairs towards their father…But he had chosen her sister instead. She hated her, she hated her little spawns as well, especially Veneer…he reminded her so much of him, their father.

“Get out.” Cressida spat. Their mothers heart broke as she saw no love in her sister’s eyes. Was there any love ever? Vivian always loved Cressida, always cared for her…her only sister.

”Vivian. Please.” Her husband called out. Holding Veneer close she ran down the stairs to join him. They both held each of their children as they went to their car. Their father placed Velvet in the back.

“I want to ride with them.” Their mother said. He touched her face and nodded. He got into the driver's seat and drove off. She didn’t bother buckling them in, she held each one close in her arms, tears falling down her face, and she placed a kiss on each of their heads.

”I’m so sorry my babies. She’s my sister. I thought I could trust her.”

“It’s okay, mommy.” They said in unison, holding her close and tight.

“….I think she was hurting Vennie for a while…” Velvet whispered. Their father looked in the rear view mirror meeting his eyes with his wife’s.

“What?” She looked down at her son, his face slowly starting to swell where she hit him. “Vennie, and you didn’t say anything?”

“…I didn’t want to ....she’s family.”

“No…No sweety, family does NOT do that to each other. Do you hear me?” She held his little face in both her hands. She placed a kiss on his forehead. “I am so sorry. I am so sorry.” She hugged them both again.

“No one is ever going to touch you again like that. Not while me and your mother are still around. You hear that.” Their father exclaimed… No one would ever touch his babies again…

[redheadspark]

Hiii. Sorry to bother, but do you mind repeating Characters for your september prompt session? And if the answer is no... can I ask for Benedict Bridgerton with #12- Dreamy? Please?☺️

A/N - Hello! Sorry for not getting to this sooner, but I'm so happy I got to write this! I hope you like it!

Walk

Summary - Benedict knows how to love you, even in your dreams

Warnings - Mostly fluff with a hint of angst

It started with flowers floating in your dreams.

Not just any flowers, your favorite.  Beautiful peach-colored roses that bloomed at the perfect time. You loved those flowers, they reminded you of your father when you were very little and he would find them just for you.  The sweet scent they carried brought you peace and tranquility, and the velvet touch along your fingers brought you reality when you were lost in your mind.

You dreamt of those flowers, and it made you smile.

Next, it was your favorite lake, the very lake that was near your summer cottage that your family would go to every June.  It was a lovely lake, with tall grass along the sides, and instant memories of swimming in the waters from dawn until dusk, or until your mother had to drag you out.  You missed that lake as of late, and to dream it was another sign that something was going on in your dreams. 

Or someone, and you knew who it was.

Being ever observant and inquisitive about your life, your husband and soulmate Benedict Bridgerton was willing to “walk” in your dreams.  It wasn’t walking really, it was more like peeking in, like poking his head through a window and seeing on the other side.  It was a cool little trick that soulmates could do: seeing the other’s dreams or tapping into your mind when they were sleeping. It seemed like a childish thing to do, you sharing with other couples that were soulmates how they would see their spouse's dreams and uncover deep dark secrets.  But that was never the case for you and Benedict. 

You were more tight-lipped than your spouse was, not that he would chat about anything and everything if he had the chance.  You were simply an introvert who would prefer to have a small cluster of friends with you then be in a ball with thousands of others.  Benedict seemed to be the opposite: having a big family filled with brothers and sisters and the in-laws that also came with them.  You loved his family, they were nothing but warm and kind to you when you were introduced as his soulmate months before.  Your mother-in-law, Violet Bridgerton, was especially taken with you when she hugged you close.

“You two are simply lovely together, I can tell Benedict will make you very happy!” She said in glee.  And she was indeed right.

Benedict loved making you smile and bringing you happiness, whether it was his flirtatious nature with his word and longing gazes, or the small gifts he would give you since he knew you were not a big fan of massive gifts and huge proclamations of love.  He showed it also through his craft in artistry, the paintings he would gift you on a random day or on your birthday would always make you grin from ear to ear and feel that love again.  He was a wondering soulmate and husband.

Even more when he visited your dreams and saw what was plaguing your mind.

Sometimes it was good and sometimes it was bad, but it was mostly good thanks to Benedict.  You could see the same about Benedict and his own dreams, which were always light and filled with optimism and dreams that he’s had.  He was an amazing artist and was known far and wide for his work, keeping his family close by, and did not lose them at any moment.  And most of all, his marriage to you.  Some of the dreams were worries that he had if he was a good enough son to his mother or a husband to you. If his work was going to be well received or if it was something he should give up.

You woke up and ran to him, hugging him close in your arms after seeing one of those dreams of his insecurities.  He was taken aback at first, but you simply held him and whispered in his ear, “You’re good enough, my darling,”

You could have sworn you felt tears hit your nightgown.  

From then on, both you and Benedict it is a rule to never invade one another’s dreams to the point of annoyance.  Not that either one of you was prone to negative dreams, it was rare really.  If there was a dream questionable, there was room for discussion the following morning.  But that rarely happened, you two were ever open to one another and never left anything out of a conversation.  Benedict helped you blossom and be bold in your opinions and in how you spoke, in return you helped Benedict be calmer in the chaotic times.  

Even in the dire times, Benedict was there for you within your dreams.  Right after you both were married, your father fell ill and passed away within months.  It was a devastating blow to your family, you took the loss very hard since you were very close to your father.  After the funeral, Benedict held you in his arms as you cried yourself to sleep.  Though you were filled with love and comfort thanks to your soulmate, the hole that was left behind because of the absence of your father was still evident.

Yet there was Benedict, in your dream, holding you close and swaying with you as you both danced among the clouds.  

“Thank you, my love,” You thanked him in the dream, seeing him peer down at you and trace your face with his fingers.

“You don’t ever have to thank me for taking care of the love of my life,” He replied in a loving tone.  

Years later and with several dreams already shared, you both were growing as a couple in a new phase of life. Your mother gifted you the summer cottage, something your father wished to do when you were a bit older but your mother figured it was the right time to gift you the small home that was filled to the brim with memories. Benedict whisked you away for one summer, 4 weeks of the pair of you in nature and using the lake for all it’s worth.

9 months later, your son was born.  Affectionally name after your father.  You and Benedict would bring your son to the same cottage every year, making new memories together and always looking forward.  Leaving the past behind.

The End.