WetDreamShipping (Fennel & Will (Elite 4)): named for wet dreams. I'm not gonna explain what those are—I'm just gonna say that I had to resist the urge to actually include a wet dream in this fic.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Pokémon series, I only own this fic.
Fennel loved dreams. That's why she studied them. The effects they had on the mind, on one's health, one a people's culture. Dreams were such amazing things locked away inside of minds, created by the brain as a means of entertainment and relaxation. Even if one could not remember exactly what occurred in a dream, if it was a good one, their night was spent sleeping peacefully. And so, she always looked forward to her dreams once her head hit that pillow, ready for a wonderful nightly escape from ordinary life.
"Good evening, fair lady." When she opens her eyes, she finds herself standing in front of a man wearing a mask, his purple hair perfectly coifed and dressed in a fancy black and maroon suit. She herself was dressed in an elegant lavender and pink frilled dress with long gloves, her hair styled into a bun and her glasses nonexistent.
He took her hand and as they began to dance, music began to play from out of nowhere. A fine marble floor formed beneath their feet and finely architected walls with intricate molding rose up from nothingness.
"You look radiant tonight. But then again, you always do," her masked dancing partner spoke as they continued to glide across the floor, unaware of the masked bystanders that were watching them in a circle. She blushed from the compliment and almost gave a gasp when he pulled her a bit closer. "The scent of you… It makes me want to act…uncivil, if you get what I mean." His hand ran down her back and to her buttocks, giving them a firm squeeze. He smirked perversely as her blush darkened. "What I wouldn't give to have you for more than a night…"
And then, the music stopped. The crowd of voiceless bystanders clapped in synchrony. They did their respective bow and curtsy. She felt lighthearted, yet also sad that it had to end so soon.
"For you, my lady," the masked man spoke as he handed her a red carnation. She took it carefully in her hands and smiled at the gift. He then leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the lips. "Until we meet again."
That morning, Fennel woke up with a warm sensation on her lips and a carnation in her hands that she couldn't remember going to be with.