#chwe hansol x reader
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heads up! minor injury, food mentions
vernon smooths a bandage around the side of your palm, fingers lingering there a few extra seconds as he glances up to meet your gaze. “y’know that knife is pretty sharp.”
“vernon.” you know what he’s doing.
he holds his hand up where there’s a bandaid around the tip of his index finger. it has cartoon stars on it, matching the wide bandage you have since you bought the cuter ones to make using them a little nicer. “remember?”
he’s parroting your words back at you from when you patched him up the other day. but you just lean in, kissing where the bandaid is before drawing back. two can play at this game. “i know. i’m a dummy—”
with a playful roll of his eyes, he draws your hand up so he can kiss the bandaged spot on the side of your palm. “my dummy, but sure.” he smiles at you, fingers curling around your hand. “just be careful.”
#nonranghaes.thoughts#nonranghaes.svt#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#svt imagine#seventeen x you#svt x you#seventeen fluff#seventeen drabbles#svt fluff#chwe vernon x reader#vernon x reader#vernon x you#vernon x y/n#chwe vernon fluff#chwe hansol x reader#chwe hansol fluff#vernon fluff
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౨ৎ voicemails vernon chwe leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: babe)
...one: hi babe, so we just got to the hotel. the flight was fine, though my back hurts like hell. anyway, talk to you tomorrow!
…two: you know what i just realised? i forgot to pack my underwear. i mean, do you think joshua will notice if i steal some from him? i can just hear your voice saying "i told you so" because i never make those lists before packing
...three: me, you, finding nemo, tonight
...four: why do you always add the most depressing songs to our playlist? i was showering yesterday while listening to it, and it was not fun, let me tell you. no more sad songs
...five: what if i started calling you "bro"? i'll still love you if you were a worm, but in return i get to call you bro. sound like a good deal to me
...six: what's up bro? (pause) okay, no, you were right about yelling at me, it sounds weird. but what are you up to babe? i heard you're meeting up with sofia today?
...seven: i'm so sleep deprived that i fell asleep on stage today during rehearsal. i was literally in the middle of singing when i just (giggle). i really hope no one filmed that
...eight: you know (pause) i'm just chilling in my hotel room, but (pause) it's so quiet here. like (pause) not fun quiet. wish you were here
...nine: i went on a walk with wonwoo and hoshi today, and wonwoo made us pose for the pictures. i'll send you those, but we literally look like children forced by a parent to pose for a pic
...ten: hey, so (pause) i'm just calling to tell you that i love you
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going to a music festival with vernon. he's behind you the whole time, hand on your waist as he jams to the songs of a band he doesn't really know.
vernon loudly whispering in your ear from time to time, either commenting on the artist that is playing or asking you if you're hungry. he checks the lineup once again, smiling so bright and telling you "i hope they perform the song we like" while pointing at an artist's name.
for the whole day, vernon sings loudly, bangs his head, holds you close whenever you get emotional or something, and just truly enjoys to have that time with you - because he wouldn't rather share his love for music with anyone but his own lover.
#vernon x you#vernon x reader#vernon imagines#vernon headcanons#chwe hansol imagines#chwe hansol headcanons#chwe hansol x you#chwe hansol x reader#chwe vernon x reader#chwe vernon x you#chwe vernon imagines#chwe vernon headcanons#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#svt headcanons#svt imagines#svt x reader#svt x you#seventeen#svt#vernon#chwe hansol#chwe vernon
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Note: He peels an orange for you.
Also, ya'll prefer him to be called Vernon or Hansol in fics? I never know which to use as I personally don't mind either.
Warnings: None :) Soft, fluffy vibes
Requests are open!
You didn’t pay much mind when you felt Vernon’s weight press into the bed beside you, returning from a quick trip to the kitchen. You just kept your eyes focused on the show playing on your phone. You were snuggled under the covers; tucked tightly in thanks to your boyfriend as you tried to combat the cold. It was freezing, outside layered in snow with a bitter chill hanging in the air. You had decided not to leave your apartment, not even your bed if it could be helped. It was just too cold and dreary to muster up any will to move.
Your ears pricked at Vernon’s hushed voice, cursing to himself as he shifted in his spot. “What’s wrong?” You asked monotony, too invested in the movie in front of you to look away. He muttered something about getting you a snack but seemed too invested in his actions to properly answer. “Ah- sorry,” he huffed, prompting you to look over
“What are you doing?” You sit up a little. He was trying to dab away the orange juice that had leaked onto your sheets, a half-peeled orange in his other hand.
“I heard your stomach making noise.” He replied, “So I got you a snack until the food gets here.”
“Really?” You begin to smile, moving closer to him and leaning your head on his shoulder. He had gotten back to peeling it for you. It feels quieter, the faint buzz of your movie fading into the background as you observe him. He seems so serious about doing the tedious task for you. The way his brow scrunches just slightly and how his eyes seem so trained on it. “You didn’t have to peel it for me” you laughed, watching him trying to remove the peel as perfectly as he could. It wasn’t though. It was messy and getting all over his hands. The sections broke apart and the peel hadn’t come off nicely at all.
“I wanted to,” he shrugs. “It looks kind of bad” he admits quietly, tossing the peels onto the plate and breaking off a piece for you. You smile and take it. What a simple task to brighten up your evening. How kind and thoughtful, though he was always doing simple, little tasks for you.
“Thank you” You break off a piece and hold it up for him to take. He does, sitting in comfortable silence with you just eating the orange.
“I love you” he looks over to you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before going in to peel a second to share with you. You watched him again; how kind, how thoughtful, he probably didn’t even realize how little, but heartwarming it was. Maybe you’d peel one for him next.
#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen reaction#vernon x reader#hansol x reader#vernon imagines#hansol fluff#chwe hansol x reader#vernon fluff#svt x reader
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laundry day | hansol vernon chwe
SYNOPSIS. in which it's laundry day and you're in a bit of an embarrassing predicament.
PAIRING. hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader (however, sorta implied that reader is more leaning toward fem)
GENRE. fluff, humour?, best friends/roommates to lovers
WARNINGS. cursing, vernon is checking reader out lowkey, reader embarrassingly wears hello kitty underwear i don't make the rules, ik vernon is mainly chill but in this they bicker <3, this was very stupid n silly lmfao
WORD COUNT. 1.6k
requested from @weird-bookworm: lemme be annoying already— noni + #16 and #59 from list 1!!
- #16: "You hugged me like your personal pillow."
- #59: "Laundry day doesn’t mean walking around in your underwear, but for you, I’ll make an exception."
notes: i'm never good with writing humour but i thought of this stupid scenario and idk how i feel BYEE (cuz ur girl lowkey struggled on figuring out how to put #59 in the story lmao) tysm for submitting this in sky <3 and ty @bananabubble for reading it over for me!
join the 2k celebration!
You are so stupid.
So fucking stupid.
How could you let yourself get carried away in loading all your laundry that you forgot to save a pair of pants to wear in the meantime?
You replay everything in your head: your overflowing, neglected laundry basket, the utter satisfaction you felt after loading it... right up until the moment you realised every single pair of pants you own was now basically swimming around in a goddamn whirlpool, and now you're left sporting nothing but your underwear and a shirt that didn't offer much coverage than expected.
You let out an annoyed groan, burying your face into your hands and mentally slapping yourself in the face. The chill of your room sends a trail of goosebumps running up the exposed skin of your legs. There really was nothing you could do but wait for your laundry to finish.
Then your head shoots back up, and maybe your bedroom lights up a bit brighter at your metaphorical lightbulb moment, because you think of Vernon. He's the only other option you have.
Tip-toeing up to your closed door, a bit of hesitancy gnaws at you for being so dumb, before you yell out, "Vernon!"
He's probably in the living room right now𑁋you can overhear the faint music of the record player the two of you snagged at this vintage thrift store the other week. A very good and lucky find, nonetheless.
Taking another (and maybe regrettable) deep breath, you call out again, a little louder this time. "Vernon! Can you hear me?"
The music seems to dip down slightly, and after a moment, the record stops spinning, replaced by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. You brace yourself for the door to swing open to reveal the embarrassing state you're in right now, but it doesn't.
Instead, you hear Vernon's voice respond to you through the door, "Yeah?"
"Uh..." You bite your lip because you can't believe you're about to ask this. "Do you have, um... a pair of pants or shorts I can borrow? I'll give it back to you tomorrow."
For a moment you think he didn't hear you because it's completely silent on the other side of the door, and it does absolutely nothing at calming down your racing heart. You see, you probably should be fine with walking around in your underwear with Vernon because he's your best friend and roommate and he definitely would not judge at all, but it's simply not that simple𑁋
"Did you, like, spill Monster on yourself again?" Vernon asks casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world that you would do (it's happened one too many times).
"Yes, I mean, no, I mean𑁋look, just fetch me a pair and I'll bring it back to you later?"
"Uh, yeah, about that..." He pauses. "I'm wearing my only pair right now since you loaded yours first."
You really should've considered that being best friends with Vernon meant collectively sharing the brain cell of procrastinating when it comes to doing your laundry. Great, just absolutely fantastic. This was very much how you wanted your day to go. Perhaps this is why you're best friends, after all.
"Well, shit," You murmur, more to yourself but Vernon hears it anyway.
"Look, I'm sure it's not that bad, right?" Does he seriously still think you spilled Monster on yourself? "You could probably just𑁋"
You can hardly act by the time the doorknob twists and Vernon peeks his head around the door. But the second he catches sight of you, his eyes flicker over you, before he quickly averts his gaze to the Radiohead poster on your wall. Was it the lighting in your room that's making his face look pink?
You stand there awkwardly, suddenly feeling so exposed in front of him as if some sort of gigantic spotlight was shining down on you. It's not like you haven't been half-naked around each other before, but this feels different... somehow. You don't know why, or maybe you don't want to know.
A cough erupts from Vernon, breaking the sudden silence.
"Oh, wow, um..." He toys with the black hoodie around his head. "I didn't look. I swear."
His eyes dart everywhere except back to you, lingering on the Radiohead poster, the slightly askew picture frame on your desk, just anywhere but you. You don’t know whether to feel relieved or embarrassed.
"Ugh, I'm so stupid." You run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And I have this meeting for work in an hour and I know the laundry won't be done by then. I'm actually screwed."
Vernon thinks for a minute. "You can't like... virtually attend the meeting?
"No."
"Or it can't be postponed?"
"Nope."
"What if I file you as a missing person to the police?"
"You're seriously no help, dude," You say, giving him a light shove to the shoulder, but it's hard to suppress the curve to your lips and the small chuckle that leaves your mouth when you see him fall back dramatically.
Vernon snorts lightly. "Well, it's probably better than showing up to work in your Hello Kitty underwear𑁋"
"You said you didn't look, you idiot!" You exclaim furiously, and Vernon literally does not see the way a pillow practically spawns in your grasp and flinging toward him before he can even react. The pillow hits him square in the chest, causing him to stumble backward with a surprised yelp. "Oh my god, just report me missing at this point."
Vernon just laughs as he catches his breath to stand back up, grabbing the pillow up the floor and lifting it up like a shield as if to defend himself from you. Your face is burning brighter than the lava lamp glowing on your bedside table.
"This is so embarrassing," You mutter sheepishly, wanting to unleash another defeated groan again. "I can't believe I'm this stupid to forget to..."
"You're cute."
"...and then I'm probably going to get fired𑁋what?"
Vernon tosses the pillow back onto your bed and clears his throat.
"I said you're really dumb."
That is not what he said.
For a second, the disastrous situation seems to lighten up just a little bit, and your heart is doing some intense, unrhythmic tap dance against your ribs. You heard exactly what he said𑁋that he called you cute in this ungodly predicament𑁋and now he's trying to brush it off?
Vernon cracks a teasing, boyish smile. "And stupid, yeah. You're not wrong about that."
You open your mouth to retort, but the words get caught in your throat, almost like a choked sound coming out instead. So you point an interrogative finger and step closer to him (and yes, still in your underwear), eyebrows furrowing together.
"You called me cute," You state, all firm and serious now.
Vernon's playful look falters slightly, expression shifting to something a bit more guarded now. He rubs a hand at the back of his neck, that nervous habit you've always found sort of endearing throughout time. Perhaps there's a bit more meaning to it now.
The few moments of silence that follow is absolutely suffocating. You can't even tell if time is passing by quicker or slower as the two of you stand there, shifting this uncomfortable weight between both of your feet.
"Yeah," Vernon says simply, quietly. "I did."
You nearly want to laugh for some reason, but you can feel the nerves tickle up your spine. "I'm standing here in fucking Hello Kitty underwear and you think I'm cute?"
You can visibly see the way the lump in his throat tightens as he swallows, his eyes flickering uncertainly between you and the floor.
"Look you just... You caught me off-guard. Like... laundry day doesn't mean walking around in your underwear and all that," Vernon explains, in a tone like he's trying to reason with you. "but for you, I'll make an exception because𑁋"
"𑁋because I'm cute?"
"Because you're so stupidly cute from freaking out when I could just go to the store right now and buy you a pair of pants to wear." Then he sucks in a breath. "And yeah, the Hello Kitty underwear is cute, I guess."
You feign a shocked, traitorous look to your face. "You guess?! It's Hello Kitty, man."
"Dude, do you want me to snatch you some pants to wear or not? Because I'm deadass about the missing persons report," Vernon asks, half-annoyed yet somewhat half-amused. The twitch to his lips doesn't go unnoticed. And the voice of him calling you cute just minutes earlier also doesn't go unheard of too.
You wear a cringy, exaggerated pout to your lips. "Please."
Vernon's face contorts in slight disgust at that. "Please don't do that eve𑁋I'm leaving." And before you can say anything, he's turning around and leaving your room.
You hear the clinking of keys, assuming that Vernon is getting ready to leave to presumably retrieve you a pair of pants to wear for the day. You step up to your doorway to peek into the living room.
"Hey, I owe you!" You holler out to him. "Let me know how much it costs and I'll pay you back."
"No need," Vernon calls back over his shoulder.
"Come on, I'll feel bad," You insist, leaning against the doorframe. "I'll do anything, I swear."
Now that seems to intrigue him, and you watch the way Vernon slowly turns back to you, and maybe you're starting to regret ever saying that to him.
"Okay," he says lightly. "We're watching a movie tonight."
"A movie? What are we..." Then your eyes widen in realisation. "We are not watching Shrek again. I'll end up falling asleep on you because we've rewatched too much."
Vernon just shrugs. "Yeah, like last time. You hugged me like your personal pillow, remember?"
"I..." You stop yourself from responding immediately, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks at the memory. "Fine, whatever. If I fall asleep again, you can just wake me up this time."
A low, thoughtful hum runs out of Vernon's mouth. "I mean, I really don't mind if you fall asleep, you know. If you're tired and stuff."
You blink up at him dazedly. "Really?"
"Yeah," he answers, and the corners of his lips lift up ever so slightly. "You're cute when you fall asleep on me, anyway."
another note: guys idk what i just wrote lol its like 90% dialogue n rushed HAHSADSA
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RED STRING THEORY // Hansol x Reader Oneshot
DESCRIPTION: Soulmates weren't real. This wasn't a fantasy world... But somehow, the world wanted them together. Giving them one too many chances to be together. Almost as if there was a little string that connected them to one another
PAIRING: Idol!Hansol x Reader
GENRE: A very LONG fluff.
There is a popular belief that there is one person you are destined to be with regardless of time, place, and circumstances.
A person is born in to this world connected to their other half by this invisible red string. No matter how knotted and jumbled this string got, it was never broken – because in the end, it will always be them that would be destined for each other.
Y/n had grown up with her grandmother telling her and her older sister this folklore; standing firm on her belief that her and their grandfather were destined lovers and had proclaimed that one day, the two girls would find their way to theirs.
The two had taken their grandmother's words a with a grain of salt. More now that their father and mother had a very messy divorce, leaving the two to be solely under their mother's care.
But the older woman didn't care if the two girls huffed and puffed about her tales that she told each summer they paid a visit. A regular occurrence of their mother shipping them out to her home country; claiming it was good for them to be in touch with their roots instead of rotting away in their rooms during summer break.
Plus, it was far better than making the journey to Chicago where their father had relocated with his new girlfriend.
It was just like old times.
Except, now they were no longer required to have their grandparents accompany them as they explored the large city. They had the freedom to run about the streets, spending hours on end at the computer shop, biking along the river, and spending all their allowance at the local convenience stores.
"I don't think we have enough money." Y/n looked down at the basket of snacks her and her older sister have filled.
Her sister agreed with a nod. "Put back some chips."
Y/n pouted, reaching down to grab three bags of honey butter chips she had carelessly thrown in; trudging to the next aisle where they had been placed.
"Are you going to buy all that?" A young boy no older than fifteen asked, pointing at the bags in her arms. Unlike the boys from the neighborhood, he had looked like someone from back home. She took in his disheveled appearance, his hair was almost like a helmet on his head; the sweat on his forehead causing some of the strands to stick together.
Yuck.
Blinking slowly, y/n tilted her head to the side trying to comprehend what he had asked. She knew the language, just not well enough to understand when someone was speaking fast.
He must have grown up here.
"Hello?" He waved his hand to gain her attention.
"Sorry." She mumbled, rushing to place the chips back on the shelf.
"Weirdo." He said underneath his breath, grabbing a bag.
"Excuse me?!"
Eyes growing wide, the boy turned to face her – ears and cheeks red. "Heh?" He flashed a shy grin and peace sign before running away to the front of the store.
Y/n dismissed the small interaction with the young boy – not before ranting to her older sister about how rude he was to someone who was clearly from not the area.
Teens were rude and arrogant at that age anyways.
It was her last day before heading back west when she had another run in with the teen. She was reaching for a can of grape drink when another hand brushed against hers; causing her to quickly retract her hand – mumbling a soft apology and motioning for the person to go ahead.
"Here." He extended his arm to offer the girl the can, recognizing her from weeks ago.
Their first small interaction that had left him flustered as he made his way back to the practice room. He was told specifically by the staff to be careful of how they portrayed themselves during their time outside the green room, in case they were to debut.
No future idol wants negative stories from strangers as a new comer. One story can easily cause a snowball effect and become not only the downfall of one member but the group as a whole.
He knew their conversation wasn't much of a headline, but he also knew how easily the public villainized a celebrity for something so miniscule.
He did not want to risk it.
The young teen had gone back nearly every day before practice in hopes to run into the girl, wanting to change whatever impression he had originally made.
"Thanks." Y/n pulled a tight lipped smile before turning her heel to head for the register.
"Sorry about the other time!" He called out.
"I don't care." She called back, handing the cashier the change she had fished out from her pocket – not bothering to look back at the dumb struck boy stood at the refrigerated drinks aisle.
Crisis averted.
・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．
It had been years since he had been back in the city where his parents had met. Not to mention years since he had given a proper break.
Thanks to their group's success over the past two years since debuting, they were granted a month and half of down time. No practices, no variety show guesting, no filming.
Just quiet time.
The first in a very long time.
Each and every member agreed that they would use the first half of this break to work in their team and the latter half with their own families.
Vernon could not be anymore grateful that his mom had decided this meant flying back New York for a change of scenery and pace.
For once since his debut, he felt like a normal teen; waking up at noon, exploring the city by himself with no set schedules, and eating whatever his heart desired.
"You're staring." His sister nudged him, breaking his gaze from the girl behind the counter who was far too busy taking everyone else's order to notice that he was practically burning a hole into her skin.
"She looks familiar, doesn't she?" He nodded to the girl.
His sister follower his eyes before giving him a look. "No she doesn't."
"I swear, I've seen her before."
Sofia snorted, rolling her eyes at her brother.
He could be a dits at times.
"You wish." She took a step towards the counter, placing her order.
"And for you?" The girl smiled, using her customer service voice that she had gotten down to T since applying for the cafe.
"Oh uh–" He glanced up at the menu, scratching the back of his neck. He had become too preoccupied trying to figure out why the girl in front of him had looked like someone he had seen before that he had completely forgotten the reason why he and his sister decided to drop by in the first place.
Coffee.
"He'll have an iced mocha." His little sister interjected, seeing that her brother seemed still be buffering by her side.
"$10.78 please."
"Vernon." Sofia nudged him yet again, this time a little harder, signaling for him to pay.
"Right." He cleared his throat, digging into his back pocket to pull out the plastic card from his wallet. "Here you go."
"Is he okay?" The girl joked, taking the card from his had.
"He's allergic to girls."
"Am not!" He cried, now fully present.
"Okay well then don't be a freak."
Y/n awkwardly laughed at the two's sudden bickering, handing the form of payment back. "Drinks will be ready at the side."
"Thanks– wait, do I know you?"
"Oh my god." Sofia grumbled, slapping her hand on her forehead in embarrassment.
"Um.... No." Y/n replied, coming out as more of a question. "Are you trying to hit on me?"
"Wha– No! Oh my god no!" His eyes wide, shaking his head quickly.
He was never good with girls.
Or strangers.
Unless they were his fans; all thanks to their media training and fan service lessons.
She raised her brows. "Should I be offended by how quickly you said that?"
"Oh my god oh my god, let's go please you're embarrassing me." Sofia cried, pushing her brother towards the direction where the rest of the cafe customers were stood, waiting for their drinks. "I'm really sorry about him!"
・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．
Curiosity had gotten the best of him and he was set on figuring out why the girl at the coffee shop looked familiar – dropping by another time.
"Hi familiar stranger." She greeted as he walked into the semi-empty shop, a glaring difference from the other day.
Granted, he stopped by during hours where most would be busy at work or school.
"What can I get you today?"
"Iced mocha please." He said confidently this time.
"Anything else?"
"That's it." Vernon pulled a tight lipped smile, handing her his card.
He was so sure he would have been able to figure it out by now; unable to help himself from staring at her.
Not in a creepy way of course.
No. He was not a creep.
Just annoyed that his brain can't seem to put a finger on why her features looked like someone he has seen before.
He hadn't been in the states in years. Let alone has he been to this particular coffee shop.
But why was she so familiar?
Before he could walk away, he found himself asking the question aloud. Again.
"Are you sure I don't know you?"
"Are you sure you're not hitting on me?" She countered.
He shook his head. "No, I– you just look like someone I know."
Maybe she was a fan.
From a fan sign.
What if she was playing a sick prank, wanting to have her own little cliche moment of bumping into their celebrity crush so that they could organically fall in love with each other.
Not that he was in love.
Nor did he like the girl.
He didn't even know her.
She's pretty. Very pretty– but– oh my god he's staring at her. Shake it off.
"Do you go to fan signs?"
Oh he is about to blow his cover.
"Yeah, totally. I just went to one in Brooklyn– are you stupid?" She replied sarcastically.
She didn't live under a rock. She knew what fan signs were, having heard of them from her cousins when she would visit her grandparents for the summer.
"Taking that as a no." He said slowly.
"Is this some sort of pick up line. You're going to say I look like one of those idols you see when you go to fan signs? It's a really dum–"
He let out a laugh.
If she had only known.
"I told you I'm not hitting on you."
"Says the guy that keeps asking why I look familiar, in a really weird way, I may add."
This was hopeless.
Why did he think he would be able to figure it out this time around?
It was as if there was an itch in his his brain he couldn't seem to scratch. But considering there was no progress in getting any clues as to why the girl looked like some one he had previous encounter with, he'd just have to learn to ignore it.
"I just– it's bugging me– It's whatever." He mumbled, walking over to his drink that was waiting at the counter.
"If it helps, my mom said I have an average face!" She called out.
Little did he know she would later find out who he was, all thanks to her mom's need to watch any and all content that was happening back east.
She had nearly choked on her water that night when his face appeared on screen as her mom watched the latest episode of Happy Together; earning strange looks from both her mom and sister.
Y/n wanted to so badly let the two know that she had not only one but two encounters with the boy on the screen a few months back – for street creds of course.
But she knew they wouldn't believe her.
No one would have.
・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．
Moving was one thing.
Y/n didn't mind moving.
Moving to different country.
That was another story.
Due to her grandfather's recent passing, y/n's mother thought it was best to relocate back to their home country to accompany her now widowed grandmother.
Y/n wanted to be selfish.
She wished she had enough guts to fight to say behind, just as her sister had, and complete her masters with her friends. She wished her mom hadn't been fully educated about the transfer program her university had.
If she had only been born two years earlier like her sister, maybe she could have used the "I have a job here that I can't leave behind." excuse.
Don't get her wrong.
She loved her grandmother, and she would do anything for her.
But asking to up root her whole life, to move all the way across the world to leave behind her friends and her boyfriend, was a lot.
Y/n wanted to complain. She wanted to pout. She wanted to throw a fit, like any other toddler who was told they were not allowed the toy they have been asking for but she knew better.
Y/n sucked it up, hiding her disappointment behind a smile each time she came home from yet another day of classes at the university.
A lifestyle she had yet to adjust to.
Pushing past the mess of people, y/n ran down the stairs of the subway station – afraid of missing the train that was set to arrive in just a minute. She had gotten a little too distracted with the shops along the way and lost track of time, forgetting to account for the endless corridors and staircases she had to travel before reaching her set subway line.
She had nearly reached the last step when she felt someone step on the heel of her sneakers, sending her forward in an instant.
Y/n was fully prepared to make contact with the floor, bracing for impact.
But the pain never came.
Instead, a tight grip on her upper arm held her up just enough for her to regain balance.
"Thank you." Y/n turned to the stranger, reaching up to rub where their hand had once been – in attempts to soothe it.
Thanks to their quick thinking, she had been able to save herself from embarrassment and a possible concussion; but that didn't mean it didn't come with a cost.
She could practically feel the bruise forming on her arm where their fingers once was, wincing at the thought of having to explain to her mom and grandmother why she had a perfect hand print bruise on her upper arm.
"Sorry." He apologized sheepishly, coming out as almost a mumble due to the mask that covered half of his face.
"It's fine."
"I uh– let me give you money for uh– cream?"
She raised her brows. She knew there would be a cultural difference once she had moved to the country, but never had she heard of someone being a little too friendly and offering to buy.... bruise relief cream.
It's just a bruise, anyways.
"No need, oh my god." She shook her head, subconsciously reaching over to stop him from grabbing his wallet from his back pocket; instantly retracting her hand when she noticed him flinching at her touch.
Right, this wasn't the west.
They don't do that here.
"Sorry, I– am not."
"From here?" He finished with a chuckle.
"Yeah..."
"I know. I mean– you sound like my sister from back in the states– That's information I didn't need to share."
"Line 6 is arriving." A perky voice blared through the speakers, interrupting the two.
"Shit. Gotta go, don't worry about the bruise!" She spoke quickly, hurrying over to her platform.
To her surprise, the stranger had hopped on to the same cart as her – instantly spotting his all black outfit paired with black fitted hat from a few seats down.
Sh had tried her best to keep herself pre-occupied, looking down at her phone as she pretended to be interested in her instagram feed – not wanting to look like a stalker. It wasn't that she was interested in him.
She had a boyfriend.
No, she was just.... curious.
Something about his voice seemed... familiar.
・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．
He was in the same cart as her the following day — easily spotting him as he was dressed in the same ensemble. Just different colors.
This time, he wore light washed jeans and a plain white tee. As opposed to yesterday's all black attire. Not to forget the cap that rested low on his head and mask covering the remainder of his features.
He really did not want to be seen.
"How's the arm?" He asked, taking a seat at the now vacant spot next to her.
Y/n lifted the sleeve of her oversized graphic tee to show him the mark he had left behind. "Purple."
"Sorry again." He winced.
"Saved me from cracking my head open." She shrugged. "You been to New York?"
"Huh?"
Y/n gestured to the embroidered team cap he was sporting.
"Oh uh— kinda?"
"Kinda?" She raised her brows.
"I was born out there." Vernon answered hesitantly.
He wasn't sure if his disguise was, if it could even be considered as one, had been good enough to hide who he really was. He wanted to be careful of any and every information he gave out to her, just in case she was a fan of him and his group.
Not that she seemed to hint that she had any sort of idea of who he was... or seemed to care to figure out who she was speaking to under the mask and hat.
Besides, who's ever heard of an idol taking a subway.
In Vernon's defense, he didn't have a license and didn't feel the need to. It was very rare that he needed to be behind the wheel on his own anyways.
"Cool." She nodded. "Me too."
He let out a soft chuckle, finding her poor attempt to make small talk.... humorous...ly cute.
"What brings you out here?"
"My mom."
"Well yeah–"
"No I'm serious," She laughed, realizing he had probably thought she was making a joke about reproduction. xi. "My mom wanted to relocate."
"Oh my god." He groaned putting his head in his hands out of embarrassment before sitting back up and joining her in her fits of laughter.
"What about you?"
"Also my mom.... and dad."
"Cool."
"Cool."
The sound of the train humming along the tracks filled the silence between the two.
She had yet to figure out how to properly interact with strangers, afraid to come off too strong.
"I'm y/n by the way." She hesitantly brought her hand up, unsure if it was appropriate to shake his hand or not.
"Hansol." He took her warm hands in his cold ones, giving it a quick shake — just in case there had been wandering eyes.
"This is me," Y/n allowed for the train to a complete stop before standing from her seat, turning to give the boy one last smile and wave. "I'll see you around I guess"
She never did.
A part of her wished that he was on the same train again the following day, catching herself craning her neck to see if she could spot him in the mess of crowd that had piled in.
She had done this for three days.
Giving up on the fourth.
Why was she so curious? Who makes a friend on a train?
・゜゜・．・゜゜・．���゜゜・．・゜゜・．
Y/n had grown to love the place.
Contrary to what she had made herself believe.
Maybe it was that she had finally adjusted to the culture and the lifestyle of the country, or maybe it was that there was no other reason for her to go back – her boyfriend of three years dumping her on a random Tuesday in May, just days before she was set to fly out to visit him.
So much for the stupid red string theory.
Swearing off relationships, y/n chose to focus on her new job; as a Media Marketing Associate at the new leading entertainment company.
She wanted to make her mother proud – just as her older sister has, who was now a Creative Director for Capitol Records.
Y/n wanted to follow her older sister's footsteps.
At least, if it fate allowed it.
Just before clocking out the night before, her team had received word that one person will be removed – claiming that the workflow needed restructuring.
Y/n wasn't stupid. She knew it meant someone was getting fired.
And judging by seniority, and her being a new hire of two months, she knew she would be the one to be let go.
"Morning." She greeted her coworkers with a sigh.
"Don't look too sad, y/n." Soooyun frowned, knowing that she had nothing but words to offer.
"So much for being a marketing director." Y/n pulled a tight lipped smile, reaching over to turn on her computer.
As if it was any use, considering she may have already had her employee access revoked.
She had been fully prepared to pack up her desk by the end of the day, giving her mother a heads up that she may need to cry in her arms once she got home from work.
But fate was on her side.
"No way." She gasped, scanning the email she had opened. "I'm not fired!"
"What?" Sooyun jumped from her seat, walking over to her desk to read over her shoulders. "We are pleased to tell you that you have been selected to join our subsidiary label's marketing tea– this is good news!"
"Oh my god. I thought I was going to be unemployed!" Y/n cried, continuing to scan through the email. "Wait, what floor is PLEDIS?"
"Eight. Good luck. They're a mess." She snickered, walking back to her desk.
"Oh so I might as well have been fired."
"I'm kidding. They're .... working on it."
"I'm drafting my two week notice."
She never drafter her two week notice.
Instead, the department she had been suddenly thrusted into had welcomed her with open arms — despite half of the team having been around since before the label acquisition.
They were all learning the new groove of workflow that HYBE had standardized for a good portion of their subsidiaries' PR and Marketing department, leaning on one another for support during their onboarding.
She had quickly grown to be comfortable with her new team just as she had with the temporary one from two floors above.
"Y/n, it's your time to shine." Her lead grinned, leaning against her desk. "Sales and PR approved of your tour pitch."
"No way." Y/n gasped, her grin matching his.
"I want you to pitch it to the boys."
The grin quickly fell from her face. "No way."
Yn had known each and every boy by name; especially the boy that she had interacted with years back when she was working at the cafe near her home. But she still couldn't help but feel nervous.
She had done minor research on the men she now worked for, but interactions with them in person was different.
Especially now that she was a grown adult with an almost fully developed frontal lobe.
Y/n had yet to meet the group as a whole, having only met Seungcheol and Woozi in passing on the way to the office — tucked far behind the practice room used by the team.
She knew she wanted to move up in the company, meaning that she would be heading meetings regularly. But she had also yet to assimilate to the workplace — let alone the talents she had worked for.
Almost everyone on the team were comfortable with the boys, each having their own stories about how kind and attentive they were to their staff members.
She wanted to ease into it slowly.
Not thrown into the deep end.
Which seemed to have been occurring far more often than she would like.
"Can't I just be the person that clicks the arrow button for the next slide?"
"It's your presentation. You have it memorized."
"I'll teach you."
"I think that will be tough because meeting is in," He glanced down at the silver watch on his arm. "Ten minutes."
Oh she's definitely drafting her two weeks now.
・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．
Nervously standing at the end of the very long conference table, y/n fiddled with the hem of her cardigan — waiting for the group of thirteen boys to file in and take a seat.
The growing sound of booming voices grew louder and louder as each seconds passed; signaling their arrival. It was only a matter of milliseconds before they appeared one by one through the doorway — greeting her and Seongho, her team lead who stood beside her.
Of course, he earned chirpier hi's and hello's — being a part of the team for five years now.
Y/n nearly had to fight her eyes from lingering at the him. He had matured entirely, his shoulders now broad, maybe even gotten taller.... and god that jaw.
He looked good.
She quickly averted her eyes down to the device in front of her before anyone caught her stare – which was quite easy as they all seemed quite busy in their own worlds.
Y/n waited until they were situated in their seats, each small conversation finishing as she tapped away on her laptop that was connected to the projector behind her — instantly catching their attention with the bright colors of the mood board she had put together.
She felt like a teacher standing in front of a group of kindergarteners and she felt their gaze on her — some with hands folded in-front and on the table.
Just like kindergarten.
"Hi everyone, name is y/n." She bowed, using her best customer service voice. "I'll be heading today's marketing pitch."
Y/n was about to open her mouth, ready to start with her first slide when a sudden cough attack caught everyone's attention.
It was him.
"You okay?" Mingyu turned to Vernon, letting out a laugh as he patted his back in attempts to soothe him.
"Yeah, swallowed my water wrong." He croaked, earning laughters from everyone.
"Slow down, yeah?" Minghao chuckled.
Vernon nodded, clearing his throat as he adjusted in his seat. "Sorry, uh, y/n please continue."
・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．
She didn't know which she liked more about her job. The pay.... or the free food.
Not a day had gone by where she did not passed up taking trip to the company cafe on the third floor to get her daily caffeine fix and sweet little treat from the pastry selection that was baked fresh every day.
Yeah.... it was definitely the free food.
Especially now that she had been appointed to lead the marketing for the group's Japan leg of the tour.
It was her fourth day in a row that she had made her way down to the cafe for the second time since clocking in – deeming that one iced coffee was not enough.
Unfortunately for her, there was a line of at least eight people ahead of her and only two barista's working the counter.
This was going to take longer than the ten minutes she had told her team.
Unbeknownst to her, he was stood second in line – his eyes immediately spotting her when she had entered the room.
Not that he was looking for her.
She was just very easy to spot.
She dressed differently than the rest of the staff.
Her style still very much influenced by western fashion.
"Y/n." Vernon called from his spot.
His voice was very easy to recognize.
Once she locked eyes with him, he motioned for her to stand next to him – cutting the rest of those who stood behind.
Not that they would complain.
"Thank you." She bowed hesitantly.
Y/n had yet to be comfortable around him and the rest of the boys, despite having had frequent interactions since the meeting she had delivered months ago.
She was his age and he had specified that it was completely fine to address him like a friend.
They all preferred their staff seeing them as coworkers, people that they could be friends with, instead of land mines that they had to carefully tiptoe around.
"We'll be seeing each other a lot and we hope you'll be around as long as we are... So please, don't think you have to treat us like kings." The leader said after the meeting, formally introducing the team as a whole to y/n.
"How's planning going?" He asked, making small talk.
In all the times he had a run in with the girl, he hadn't been able to properly converse with her. Mostly because it was either he had a other members with him, who were far more outgoing and vocal – leading the conversations. Or he just didn't quite have time.
He would see her in the halls, giving her a nod as a form of greeting and a quick smile before rushing to the practice room.
The last time he had a proper one on one with her was a year ago... at the subway station near his parent's home.
Though, it was just him that knew of that interaction.
He planned to tell her one day. Thinking it would be a fun fact to bring up one day.
He just needed to find the right time.
"Really good, actually. Stressful. But good." She beamed, wanting to spill all that she had managed to accomplish since being assigned the project.
"I'm excited to see all that you worked on– you and the team."
Pulling out her phone from her phone pocket, she quickly swiped through her emails – double checking to see if anyone had been peering over their shoulders before showing him the screen.
It was rough draft of the train decal she had managed to secure with the subway system in Japan – promoting their multiple shows.
"Are we gong to be on a train?" He gasped, zooming into the file.
"Yeah, just got it approved this morning." She smiled.
"Whoa." Vernon was shocked.
He knew their group had been successful, his bank account being the biggest indicator, but he didn't think it had gotten this far.
Vernon was fully aware that they had gotten quiet big; bigger than what they had imagined during their trainee days. But a train.... with all their faces... set to be traveling throughout the country....? That blew his mind.
"Thank you." He handed her phone back.
"Working on gettin it on a plane too." Y/n replied, stepping up to the counter once the person in front of them had stepped away. "Iced hazelnut coffee please."
"Plane?" He gasped, still standing in his spot, mouth agape.
Y/n didn't think it was much of a big deal, remembering that she had briefly mentioned it during her presentation. Along with the VERY generous budget HYBE and PLEDIS had given the marketing team.
She remembered clearly because Minghao compared it to the Hello Kitty plane he had taken once on the way back to China; unable to help herself from laughing.
"Uh.... he'll have an iced mocha." She turned back to the barista, letting out a soft laugh as she stepped away from the front of the line – Vernon following suit.
She had perfectly remembered his order from that day.
Unable to shake it off. Especially not after she realized who he was.
"A plane?"
"It's not for sure yet."
"A plane." He repeated, coming back down to earth. "Wait I didn't order!"
"Oh I got it."
"Did you get me an iced americano?" He deadpanned, knowing that it had been a stereotypical drink that was a crowd favorite. And considering he was lost in his own world, he figured it would have been the safe choice for her to say.
He hated that watered down tar drink.
"Did you want an iced americano?" Y/n asked slowly, scolding herself for ordering the same drink he had picked out when he was a teen.
How was she going to explain this to him?
Without being an absolute creep...
"No but it's fine, I'll give it to Seungkwan."
"I got you an iced mocha."
Welp.
There goes the bomb.
She began planning her escape route.
"Oh." He was left dumbfounded for a second time.
"Uh.... you seem like an iced mocha guy."
That was convincing.... right?
"Should I be offended?"
"Maybe." She shrugged, letting out a small sigh of relief as she walked over to get their drinks from the counter.
Crisis averted.
・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．
Y/n didn't intend to stay past her usual work hours. She wasn't one to work a full twelve hour day, not when she can help it.
The first day of the Follow to Seoul was fast approaching, and though she was on the Japan team, she had grown restless as the big day approached. Each and every single marketing deliverables had to be cohesive through out all the stops, regardless of country or city. And considering it was her that had pitched this overall theme, she couldn't help but take extra hours to ensure any and all loose ends had been perfectly tied off.
Y/n was a perfectionist.
She had taken one last glance at the email she had scheduled to be sent to all the staff members the following morning, containing all information relating to the tour; including posting schedules on social media, announcement of later dates, and merch recap.
Content with herself, she closed out of her browser and collected her belongings – heading for the door.
At least she wasn't the last one on their floor, getting accustomed to the group's late night practices. She had one too many run ins with a few members in the past week, each scolding her for staying past the usual 6pm clock out time.
"Didn't you already get an earful from Seungkwan the other day?" Vernon called out from the end of the hall.
He had stepped out of the elevator and instantly recognized her; a smile appearing on his face.
Because he wanted to tease her.
Nothing else.
Looking up from her phone, she let out a laugh. She was caught.
"Shouldn't you be at practice? You're late." She teased right back.
They had met halfway, both with stupid grins on their faces.
Because of the joke.
"I had schedule before this." He defended.
"I was finishing up the last few details." Y/n countered.
His bottom lip jutted out, nodding in understandment. A habit she had noticed he seemed to have done quite often.
"The last train was 30 minutes ago."
"My mom's picking me up."
"That's cute."
She reached over to give his arm a smack, knowing that he was holding himself back from making another joke.
They had finally crossed the weird line that rested between coworkers that made small talk with one another in the work place and coworkers that you'd consider to maybe... just maybe be okay with hanging out with outside of the workplace.
Not that they have ever.
That was still untouchable territory.
Being an idol and all.
The only time they have spent time outside of the office building was during company dinners. A neutral setting.
Sure, they've spent some lunches at the cafeteria together – Vernon unable to pass up free food when he was far too lazy to go off and find other meals outside of the company.
"Ow! That'll bruise." Vernon cried, grabbing the spot where her hand had landed.
"Oh please. I barely grazed it. I would have to grab you really hard to even leave a mark."
"Like when you fell in the subway?" He snorted.
Y/n brows furrowed in confusion, her head tilting to the side. She had never told him about that day in the subway.
She had never told anyone about it.
It was of no significance.
A minor interaction with a stranger.
"How do you know about that?"
Vernon's eyes grew wide at the sudden slip up. "Huh?"
"I never told anyone about that."
"No– no you definitely told me about it. You were falling and this guy saved you from falling."
Or maybe she had.
... Had she?
・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．
He was screwed.
Not only was he screwed but he owed Mingyu and Dokyeom ₩100,00 ... each.
Vernon had a crush.
A big fat crush that had him grinning like a stupid little kid every time he was near her. Hell, he had caught himself grinning while looking at her instagram.
Which took a lot of convincing and a few specially delivered coffees at her desk for him to even pry out of her.
He would spend hours on end that day carefully swiping through to make sure that he did not accidentally like any of her posts.
His fans were smart. Detectives even.
He knew any movement on any social media did not go unnoticed.
All hell would break loose the second they caught wind of him interacting with anyone but his members or fans.
He had managed to deny all claims that he may be attracted to the newest addition to their staff team, and everyone seemed to have bought it.
All except Mingyu and Dokyeom, who had caught the two one too many times in their own world during her lunch breaks.
Vernon had confidently challenged the two to a ₩100,00 bet to prove that they were wrong.
He didn't think they would win.
It was silly little crush.
But she had texted him earlier that day, wanting to talk after work – claiming that she had to confess something.
Since receiving that text, he had been restless; unable to find a comfortable position on his couch and opted to plan out his outfit instead.
He wanted to look good.
Because she's confessing her feelings right?
And if the feelings were mutual.... then why not? Right?
He's allowed to date.
Everyone else around him had significant others.
Why can't he?
Vernon decided being home was not an option, not while his everyone else was home and able to pick up on his behavior.
Coming up with some lame excuse about wanting to practice one last time before they headed off to Japan for their first show, he made his way to their company's designated floor – waiting in the practice room.
He was grateful that she had asked to meet on the one particular day their day off landed on – their managers agreeing they needed rest more now that the non-stop schedules were kicking off.
Vernon was laying on the couch when he heard the door creak open, his head shooting up – eyes immediately locking with hers. He jumped up and off of the couch; adjusting his shirt.
He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as she grew closer to him.
It began to beat louder once she was a foot from him, his nose instantly filled with her signature scent.
Burberry HER.
He wasn't weird.
He had complimented her months before and she happily advertised the small roll on version of the product she carried with her at all times.
"I hate not smelling good." She reasoned when he had teased her about it.
"How was work?" He asked.
She shrugged. "We finally announced the Follow train and plane. Your fans made a few jokes about how they hope it was you guys flying it too."
He let out a chuckle, aware of the jokes that their fanbase were capable of making – some even making it into the groupchat whenever either one of them found one good enough to send them to tears in laughter.
"Anyways, I have a confession." She wasted no time getting right to the point. "And I already know you're probably going to distance yourself after, but I don't care. It's been literally bugging me for months now."
"It's okay, I– I think I have something to say too." He wiped his hands on his jeans, feeling them grow moist from the anticipation.
"You do?" Y/n was puzzled.
"Yeah but uh... you go first."
"No, now I'm curious." She laughed, picking up on his nervous demeanor.
She was nervous as well, but his.... was little more off putting; the color on his lips draining.
Vernon was glad they were standing, knowing that his legs would have been bouncing enough to shake the whole room from the anxiety he had been feeling.
He had confessed his feelings to someone before. Why was he so nervous?
She was going to do it as well.
Right?
"I– fine." He sucked in a deep breath, locking his eyes with her. "I um, may have a slight, crush– No actually, no I have feelings for you. Positive ones. You know the one that makes me want to kick your feet and giggle when you text the person you like.... That kind."
Y/n's lips formed into an "o".
That wasn't what she was expecting, though.... she should have guessed the minute she picked up on his strange behavior – mentally comparing it to a high schooler when they were around their crush.
Vernon watched as the girl slowly walked over to the couch, taking a seat. His eyes remaining on her as she sat in silence.
"I'm guessing that you were not going to say the same thing."
She slowly shook her head, still in shock.
Welp.
Time to go on a year long hiatus.
He allowed her for a minute of silence, taking a seat on the far opposite end of the couch; silently drumming his fingers on his legs as he tried his best to keep the voices in his head from jumping into further conclusions.
"So I'm uh– going to head out." He clicked his tongue, standing from his seat.
God this was so awkward.
"Wait!" Y/n her voice cracked, finally blinking away the blank stare she had.
Vernon was halfway to the door when she had called out for him, turning his heel to face her.
"Sorry I was... processing." She ran her fingers through her hair. Y/n had many things to consider.
The thing was, she too had positive feelings for him.
But that was the thing.
She was perfectly fine pining for him in silence. She was okay with the one sided admiration. Y/n was completely okay with having him as her work crush, the reason as to why she was that much more motivated to come in when the days felt like a call in sick type of day.
Because just a minute ago, she didn't know he had felt the same.
But now that he had exposed how he felt, it complicated her false reality.
Not only did she realize she might just have a chance with him... she had a chance with an idol.
Someone who was meant to remain unattainable. Only for fans.
Someone who cannot be seen with anyone of the opposite gender.
Someone who she was definitely not supposed to be dating.
Not that he asked her out.... he just told her how he felt.
"I came here to tell you that we met before." Y/n swallowed, walking over to where he stood. "I– we were teenagers. I was working at a cafe and you and your sister came in. I– I didn't know who you were at the time but a few months later I saw you on TV and– I didn't think I would see you again. Let alone work for you. It's been eating me alive since I saw you in the conference room. More now that we're friends. Or... possible ... crushes? I–"
Now it was his turn to be in shock.
"Do you believe in the red string theory?" He blurted.
That damn red string.
Y/n couldn't help but laugh, nodding in response to his question.
Vernon had heard about the red string theory from his mother, she had always entertained all sorts of ideas as such and happily shared it to him and his sister.
He rarely believed in these ideas, such as zodiac signs being able to properly describe someone's personality down to what makes them tick. Listening to his mother ramble on and on out of respect.
"You don't know this but– that day, that you fell at the station... That was me. I was the one that stopped you from falling. That bruise, I– I'm Hansol."
Vernon remembered that day so clearly.
His sister was in town for a quick break from her school back west and he had been paying her a visit at his parent's home – opting to take the public transportation instead of bothering his band of brothers or managers.
He was far too busy trying to keep his profile low as he headed back to his shared apartment when he stepped on the back of her sneakers.
Thanks to his quick reflexes, he had been able to catch her.
He was left in awe of her beauty that day, cursing himself for not approaching her when he had caught her staring from a few feet away.
The second time was purely coincidence.
He was sending his sister off.
He didn't think y/n would be taking the same scheduled train as him.
Vernon wasn't one to take things a sign. But he did just this on time – taking a seat next to the girl.
He didn't think he would see her again.... again.
Especially not as someone heading their marketing meeting.
"I choked on my water that day you were presenting because– I mean, I was surprised that you were there." He continued.
Maybe both her grandmother and his mom were right.
Maybe they did have an invisible string that tied them together.
That must be the only explanation.
"Wait— you— hold up." She reached over, using one hand to hold onto his upper arm; trying to stabilize her now weak knees. "Is this okay? I'm allowed to hold onto— I—"
Vernon felt his ears grow hot, unable to bite back the smile fighting its way to appear on his face. "Yeah this is okay." He nodded.
"Before we circle back to the whole destiny thing," Y/n withdrew her arm back to her side. "I— can't believe I'm saying this out loud, but I... uh— kinda like you too?"
"Kinda ... with a question mark?"
"Okay, I do. I have positive feelings for you."
He felt his heart take a leap.
"Can you give me a second?" Vernon held up a finger before walking over to a corner, letting out a dramatic 'yes!'.
She watched him in awe.... and pure adoration. A larger grin on his face as he made his way back to where he stood.
He was cold and stoic on camera, rarely showing any emotions but she quickly realized that the facade he seemed to put on wasn't who he really was.
Vernon was a dork, an animated and very funny guy who enjoyed teasing her any chance he got. Just like any other boy who had a crush.
There had been countless of times when she found herself wiping away the moisture from her eyes from the stupid corny jokes he told.
"Back to the whole destiny thing."
"It can't possibly be real but... I'll take it. I'll allow it." She laughed.
"You think that little red string is tied to yours?" Bringing his pinky up to their eye line.
"I would hope so."
"Want to test the theory?" He wiggled his finger, earning a giggle from her. "Dinner on me?"
"Let's start with dinner on a plate first."
Vernon's smile fell, using his other hand to fiddle with his pinky.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm trying to untie the string." He chuckled, breaking character.
"You're a loser." Y/n rolled her eyes.
tag list: @leah-rose03 @yoonzinuhh @musingsofananxiouspotato @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @hanniebanggi
#something different for now lol#vernon x y/n#vernon x reader#vernon x you#vernon fluff#vernon fic#seventeen imagines#seventeen fic#red string au#hansol vernon chwe#chwe hansol x reader#vernon x oc
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Bloodhound Pt. I | chs x reader
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.5k | Pairing: chs x reader | Genre: romance, supernatural au
Life as a vampire isn't the easiest for Vernon, friend-wise or feeding-wise. He's ready to find a solution, and he thinks it just might be you.
Warnings: blood mentions (i mean it's a vampire fic like ...), non explicit sexual advances from strangers online, suggestive thoughts, involuntary thoughts of violence/murder, the briefest angst (it's me lbr), food mention, mention of being unable to eat
Reader Notes: human, has 2 brothers (i don't name or describe them so they can be other members if u want), currently ungendered (will have breasts and vagina in future smut)
It took a while for Vernon to figure out what happened to him. He still doesn’t know all the details, just that he woke up in an alley with blood all over his clothes and a burning in his throat that wouldn’t cease, and even now, he doesn’t know who did this. Who made him like this.
This being a vampire, of course.
He knew they existed, but in his short twenty five years walking the earth as a human, he doesn’t think he ever met one. He supposes now he has, considering the fact that he didn’t just wake up like this out of nowhere. He wonders if they meant to change him, or if he bit back and managed to get some of their blood in his system before they left him for dead.
Either way, he’s a vampire now, and it fucking sucks. Literally and metaphorically.
There are many cons, and only a few pros, he’s discovered in the six months since he was turned. He can’t go out in the sun anymore, and he’s so strong, he’s broken three phones. Worse than that, he likes the taste of blood now, likes feeling the coppery liquid fill his mouth before he swallows it down, likes the way it soothes his throat and sates his hunger. His brain still screams at him that it’s not normal or right or cool of him to be drinking fucking blood, and the cognitive dissonance gives him a headache every time he feeds.
That’s another con, the feeding. He doesn’t want to just snatch innocent people and drain them dry like his maker did, but he can’t afford blood bags like the rich vampires, and he also hates the synthetic options available on the market. They all have an awful taste, like too sour grapes, and the weirdest consistency, just a bit too thin to alleviate the burning he still feels.
That leaves him to find willing donors, which is surprisingly difficult when you don’t want to fuck them too. He doesn’t have anything against fetishists, but he also doesn’t have a lot of experience, and gaining it with people who only like him because he’s a vampire isn’t what he wants.
He’s tried the apps, tried the matching services, but they all lead to people who just want him for his venom, and he’s grown tired of it. So, he does the next logical thing.
He puts an ad out on Craigslist.
Vernon wakes from his daily rest to find his inbox completely full, his phone buzzing on a near constant vibration with every email received. He props himself up on an elbow in bed (no, he doesn’t sleep in a coffin), and scrolls through, cringing at all of the sexual subject lines and wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have included pictures.
He felt like it was the normal thing to do, share part of himself in hopes someone will share back, but it seems all he’s done is made them feel bolder, made them feel more comfortable being open about what they want from him, even though he clearly put NOT DTF in the listing. But maybe that’s a good thing?
He can easily weed out the people who don’t actually want to help him out, and he doesn’t even have to open every single message to find out who they are. His thumb blurs as he deletes email after email, the amount in his inbox dwindling the longer he swipes, until finally, he’s left with one unread.
The subject line is innocuous enough, [interested in becoming friends with “benefits”], and he opens it to find a picture of you, with your arms extended on either side and seemingly wrapped around something, though nothing appears in the picture. You begin by saying that your two vampire brothers took the photo with you, which explains the empty spaces, and continue to tell him that they were changed against their will, attacked on their way home from seeing Spiderman in the movies a few years ago.
That tugs the corners of his lips down, makes him feel sorry that there are other vamps out there like him, other vamps who didn’t choose this life. He knew he wasn’t the only one, but seeing, or he supposes not seeing proof drives the idea home.
Apparently, they struggled with finding a source of sustenance too, never wanting to turn to you for your blood or your help, and when you saw his post, it made you think maybe you could help someone, in some way.
He’s curious what solution your brothers found, and curious if you’re really offering to be fwbb (friends with blood benefits), but reminds himself to be cautious - this could all be a lie to lure him in, to get his defenses down so you can go after what you really want. He maintains that thought as he types out a reply to you, trying to play it cool and not get his hopes up.
Vernon | hey! im sorry to hear what happened to your brothers, my turning was under similar circumstances. ive been looking for someone for a while, someone who i could feed from without hurting, but maybe also a friend too? Idk i lost most of mine when i was changed, even though i didn’t ask for it, and it would be nice to have someone who understands like it seems you could
Okay, so that didn’t come out cautious at all. He practically laid his soul bare and sent it off to you with a smile (literally he ended the email with his name and a smiling emoji). But it’s already in the void, in the cloud, out of his hands, and now all he can do is wait.
Vernon doesn’t have to wait for long, he finds. You reply within minutes, the buzz making him jump and glance away from the space he was staring into. He does that a lot now, just finds some point in the room and sets his eyes on it, thoughts running through his mind in circles and zig zags and parallel lines.
His phone is still lit up with the email icon, and when he brings it up to his face, it unlocks to reveal a new message from you.
You | Oh no, I hate to hear it happened to you too! Is it still fresh? I know you said you were only turned a few months ago. My brothers wouldn’t even see me for a year after, too concerned that they’d snap and hurt me. I never had that fear, but I never blamed them for it either.
Funny, that’s the fear that drove his friends away in the first place. It’s nice to hear you don’t have it, that you accepted your brothers’ new forms immediately and also accepted their worries, didn’t get upset or hold it against them when they felt they couldn’t be near you for your own safety.
You | I think we could definitely make this work! I have blood and friendship to spare, and you’re in need of both. My only restriction is that I can’t offer too much of the first on weekdays, I teach third grade and I need all my energy to wrangle those kids :-)
So you’re a teacher too? Are you just entirely altruistic or…?
If you are, he thinks this might really be good, maybe even great. His heart would be racing if it could still move, and he can’t stop himself from scrolling back up to find your picture. He didn’t pay much mind to it before, didn’t study your face like he’s doing now, and he really should have before responding to you.
Because you’re beautiful, and he’s in danger.
In danger of what, he doesn’t know, but he can feel it stirring in his belly, burning like hunger and brewing like need, and before he knows it, his fangs are poking at his bottom lip and his dick is throbbing.
But he won’t give in, won’t ruin this with his base desires, won’t become something to fear.
He needs a blood source and a friend, and if he wants you to be both, he can’t be lusting after you like the monster he worries he really is.
Vernon exchanges emails with you for days after that, going over logistics and preferences and possibilities. You decide together that you’ll meet next month, after some time spent getting to know and trust each other, and he decides not to feed from you that first meeting, wanting you to feel comfortable and safe with him before he sinks his teeth into you.
It makes him feel giddy almost, the anticipation of having a friend, of having someone to drink from who doesn’t carry ulterior motives, of having you. Emails become texts which become calls, and soon enough, he’s got the tone and cadence of your voice memorized. He learns how you take your coffee in the morning, knows that you’d both die and kill for your kids, hears the love in your voice when you’re talking about your brothers.
You’re a real, genuine person, and Vernon can’t wait to meet you.
The days and nights fly by now that he has someone to talk to, and it only hits him the week before your meetup that not only will he be meeting you, you’ll be meeting him.
You’ll be seeing and hearing and perceiving him, and suddenly, he’s nervous out of his mind. He hasn’t met anyone that stuck around since he was changed, and he’s all too aware that you could slip out of his life just as easily as you slipped in.
In the days before, he tries to remind himself that you’ve already heard his voice, already seen his face, that you know he’s a vampire and haven’t shown any sign of running.
It doesn’t occur to him to worry about his own reaction to you, which is mistake number one.
Mistake number two is going to your meeting hungry.
You settle into the booth, latte in hand and heart beating out of your chest, and keep your eyes locked on the door. Vernon should be arriving soon, and with so many conflicting emotions razing your thoughts, you don’t know how you feel exactly.
You’re nervous, of course, as you should be when it comes to meeting online people in real life. You’re scared a little, because what if he’s not as harmless as he seems? He is still a vampire, and he could still easily kill you. But you’re also a bit… excited? He’s cute and sweet and in dire need of a confidante, and you think you could be that for him.
Over the weeks spent getting to know Vernon, you’ve grown fond of him, fond of his dry jokes and his media recommendations and his fascinating opinions, and you’re interested to see if your easy back and forth will remain in person.
This should be a good environment to test it out, you think.
You chose this cafe because it’s open twenty four hours, but also because it’s welcoming to vamps, serving a few synthetic options and even carrying donated blood for those with a bigger budget.
What will Vernon get, you wonder? Will he go for synthetic even though he’s admitted to you that he hates it, or will he spring for a blood bag, drink it in front of you with a straw like it’s expensive cherry cola?
Will he buy nothing, deny his hunger and his state of being?
It’s a shame you don’t get to find out.
Vernon takes in a no longer necessary deep breath to steady his nerves and places his hand on the door of the cafe, primed to pull it open. There’s a growl in his stomach, an emptiness that reminds him he didn’t have a chance to feed before, and he pushes it down, drowns it out, ignoring it for all he’s worth.
There’ll be time later, after he finally meets you.
His hand is steady as he pulls the door open but his ice cold heart is in his throat, lodged there like something he can’t swallow down.
“Come on in!” The barista calls out, allowing him to cross the threshold and enter the cafe. He nods in thanks and starts to scan the tables for someone familiar, someone whose picture he definitely doesn’t look at before he lays himself to rest every morning. His eyes catch on a hand raised, one that leads down a soft arm to a gently sloped shoulder and up a tantalizing neck to a sweet, kind, open face. Your sweet, kind, open face.
He grins, beams really, and races over, stirring napkins and shifting chairs with his sudden movement. He’s about to slide into the booth across from you when it hits him.
Your scent.
It’s like a brick wall smashing into him, every sane, rational thought in his head scattering like rubble in the wake of your natural perfume, unmarred by synthetic smells and caustic chemicals like so many others out there.
Instantly, the burning in his throat starts, except this time, it’s an inferno, a supernova of pain and need and desire and hunger screaming at him to take take take. His fangs shoot out, bursting through his bottom lip and making him cover his mouth, frantically backing away from you with his eyes wide and his other hand held out to keep you in the booth when it looks like you might follow him.
He bumps into tables and chairs as he flees, his blazing red eyes still locked with yours, part feral, part apologetic. The door slams behind him but he doesn’t hear it as he runs, his ears full of a roaring voice telling him that he’s going the wrong way, that he needs to go back to you and steal you and keep you and sip drink devour until you’re his, all his, until you’re glassy eyed and your heart is slow and your breaths are even slower.
Which is fucking terrifying, the thought of ever hurting you like that, of wanting to hurt you like that, making him shake with rage at himself and despair over likely blowing it with you.
He’s miles out of the city before he stops running.
When he finally does, he turns in a slow circle, taking in his surroundings and attempting to find his humanity again even with his mind still screaming at him to find you and fucking kidnap you. His clothes are torn and his bones are aching and his stomach is empty, so very, very empty, but nothing is worse than the shame.
He wasn’t strong enough for you. He wasn’t in control, wasn’t even capable of sitting across from you without wanting to drag you over the table and either kiss you breathless or suck you dry.
Numbly, he sinks to the ground, laying himself out on the forest floor and staring up at the moon peeking through the trees.
He feels like it’s taunting him.
The moon used to be his friend, back when he was human. He was a perpetual night owl, always staying up late with his curtains open and music blaring and the light of the moon filtering in through the window. His roommates didn’t mind the noise because they were all making their own, and it wasn’t often any one of them would be sleeping before the sun came up.
He lived most of his life at night and slept during the day, wasting the sunshine and warmth and normal waking hours like the ungrateful bastard he was.
He can remember the moon that night. The night he was bitten.
It was a blood moon, foreshadowing trouble around the bend, and it’s about the only thing he does remember before the agony blinded him and his memories started to flicker through his brain, going too fast for him to make sense of much.
Some stood out, like when his baby sister came home for the first time, screaming and crying until she set those big eyes on him and fell silent, transfixed. Or when he was thirteen and broke his arm sledding in Prospect Park, pretending after that it didn’t hurt because all his friends were watching, waiting for tears. Or when he got a full ride at Berklee for music production, every exhausting day sped up and reduced to a flash before he saw himself walking across the stage and shaking the Dean’s hand.
He succumbed to the encroaching darkness soon after, the red moon growing nearer and nearer in his mind’s eye. He awoke hours later, just minutes before the sunrise, with his throat on fire and his body feeling like someone else’s.
This moon is full and silver, friendlier looking than the last one he remembers, but no less foreboding.
This moon is the one he ruined everything under.
He’s sure any chance he had with you is gone. Any chance to be your friend or maybe even more, as he’s realizing only now that he did want more. Does want more.
How could he not, when you matched his energy, met him quip for quip, made him a playlist and a hypothetical skincare routine? When you devoted so much of your time to helping others and still made some for him? When you’re so beautiful inside and out, that it would take his breath away if he needed to breathe?
How could he ever not want more with you?
You stare down at your undoubtedly cold latte and furrow your brows, scrunching your mouth to the side as you remember how Vernon ran from you.
The barista has already been by to check on you, and you can still feel their eyes every so often, concern and pity rolling off of them in waves. You appreciate their empathy, but you feel a bit raw, a bit on edge, and you wish you could just burrow into the booth and go unseen. You’d leave but too many people who witnessed it remain, and you don’t have it in you to walk past them just yet.
That leaves you to wrap your trembling hands around the mug and bring it up to your lips, attempting to act like nothing is wrong. Like it’s normal for your possible friend and perhaps crush to dash away at one whiff of you.
You have to assume that’s what happened. He seemed so happy to see you, his mouth stretching wide in a smile and his hand coming up to mirror yours as he zoomed over in a blur. The wind he created made you laugh but it also rustled your hair, blew it away from your neck and probably wafted the scent of your rushing blood toward him.
You don’t wear perfume or use fragranced products, your brothers’ noses are too sensitive for that, and you bite your lip, considering that perhaps you should have just this once. Your brothers are old enough to be able to control themselves but Vernon isn’t.
He may be twenty five in human years but in the vampire world, he’s still a baby, and you didn’t approach him as such.
Fuck, this is all your fault.
You sip down the latte slowly, the rich bittersweetness heavy on your tongue, and take a small bite of the cake the barista brought over while you were stewing in your thoughts. It settles like a stone in your belly and you push it away, unable to eat with the idea that you may never see or hear from Vernon again blaring in your mind.
It’s only been a few weeks since you started talking to him but he feels… special. Important. Like someone who’s meant to be in your life. You’d hate to go back to not having him in it, especially now that you know what it’s like with him around.
Everything is brighter, happier, more vibrant. You wake with a smile on your face knowing you’ll have a goodnight text from him, countdown the minutes from sunrise to sunset knowing he’ll call you as soon as he opens his eyes, go about your day wishing you were sleeping next to him instead.
You don’t want to be a vampire, but by God you really think you could love this one.
So you’re not going to let him go that easily. You’re not going to let him fade into the night, never to be seen again. And you’re definitely not going to let him be alone anymore, not like he has been since he was turned.
With determination alight in your veins, you unlock your phone and find Vernon’s contact, pressing call and assuming he’ll send you to voicemail. You have a lot to say, and you’ll be glad to get it off your chest. You’re surprised when a ragged voice greets you, sounding, for all intents and purposes, dead inside.
“Hello?”
“Vernon?” You gasp desperately, any thought of a speech gone from your head as soon as you hear his voice.
“Y/n?” He gasps back, suddenly full of wonder and light and life. “I didn’t check before I answered, I can’t believe it’s you.”
“Why can’t you believe it’s me? We talk every day,” you joke halfheartedly, not even trying to suppress the frown at his response.
“I thought you’d never want to speak to me again after I went feral like that,” he confesses, shame and dejection obvious in both his words and his voice.
“Vernon, you didn’t go feral. Feral would have been killing me. You ran instead, hell, you protected me!”
“Yeah, from myself,” he laughs acerbically, making you roll your eyes at his self-deprecating tone.
“Listen, you’re still new. My brothers had run-ins like this too, it’s not a sign of your character or your control. It’s just a byproduct of your nature, you can’t help it,” you insist, pleading with him to understand and stop blaming himself.
“That almost makes it worse! The fact that there’s nothing I can do, nothing I can change. I don’t think I can see you until I figure this out,” he sighs regretfully, and somehow you can picture him shaking his head, his brow furrowed and his mouth tight.
“What are you going to do until then? How are you going to feed?” You ask in concern, knowing it’s already been a few days and selfishly wanting him to change his mind.
“I don’t know, I’ll spring for the blood bags and try some synthetic too,” you can tell he’s shrugging, and his nonchalance at being able to fucking eat has you lighting up with anger. You tamp it down, try to temper it, but your anger isn’t just at him.
You’re upset with the world, with the greedy overlords who decide the price of life, with the asshole who took Vernon’s away from him, with the fact that he may never be able to control himself around you. Talking has been enough for the last month but that’s just with you in the crush phase.
What happens when you finally fall in actual facts love with him?
“Vernon…,” you start, not knowing where you’re going but knowing where you want to finish (with his teeth in your neck and your body on top of his).
“Y/n, I’m not risking you.”
He sounds as firm as you’ve ever heard him, and you feel the anger ramp up and then wash away as you realize you’re simply not going to win. There is still a way you could help him though. It might be tedious and painful, but you’re willing to endure it for Vernon.
“What if I go to a donation center and have them reserve it for you? You’d just have to tell them your name and show your ID and you could drink my blood instead of paying for bags. You may still need to supplement with synthetic but together they could tide you over until we can meet again.”
There’s silence on the other end for a few minutes, minutes you spend picking at your nails and going over tomorrow’s lesson plan in your head. You doubt he realizes how long he’s been thinking about it, but you’re not going to rush him when it’s likely that his hasty answer would be no.
“I don’t know… I could still- You’d have to be so far away from me, I couldn’t even smell you,” he sounds unsure, apprehensive, and you don’t want to force him into it but you know this is the best solution.
“You could wait a day or two before going to pick it up? It’ll be less fresh but maybe by then my scent will have faded,” you offer, nearly ready to beg him to say yes.
A few more beats follow, your breathing steady and calm though your heart is racing, galloping in your chest as you wait for his response. You just want to know Vernon is happy and healthy and fed, you just want to take care of him. It seems like no one has done that in a long time, maybe since even before he was turned.
“Okay, we can try,” he still sounds reluctant, but there’s an edge too, a determination that wasn’t there before.
You bite back the squeal, vibrating in your seat as you look up centers nearby. There’s one just down the street and it’s open twenty four hours, so realistically, you could go right now.
“I’ll donate tonight, just don’t change your mind in the next couple days, okay?” You rush to say, grinning and relaxing in the booth when you hear him let out an easy laugh.
“I’ll do my best,” he chuckles, and though you know you should hang up and get going, you can’t help but linger.
“Did you make it back to your apartment alright?” You ask, realizing you don’t hear any music or TV in the background like you normally do.
“Ummm, I think I might be in Connecticut actually.”
He’s not nearly as bothered by this as you are, he even sounds almost carefree compared to how he first picked up the phone.
As if he can anticipate your responses, he says, “I’m not coming back until you’re home safe, okay? With the door locked.”
“You don’t even know where I live,” you remind him, jest in your voice and fondness in your heart.
“That doesn’t matter. I could find you anywhere with how good you smell,” his admission sounds apologetic almost, like he’s sorry for wanting your blood so bad he could find you by fragrance.
Honestly, you preen a bit, flattered that you seem to affect him so.
“Let me go to the blood bank and get you squared away first, then I’ll go straight home and lock all my locks,” you can hear the smile in your voice, hear the affection, and you wonder if Vernon hears them too. You hope he does.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
AN: i was super excited to kickstart baby vamp vernon so i figured i'd post on his (and dk's) birthday!! this was inspired by a series of asks, but mainly this one. it got a bit more plot heavy than i expected but i'm having a good time so far!! i have the second part written already and i'm hoping to write part three before i release part two just so i can stay ahead of it and yall don't have to wait too long!
pls pls pls reblog and lmk how you liked it! you don't know how happy it makes me to see your thoughts and feelings on my work, they're my fuel to keep sharing my writing 🥰
*warnings for this were a bit tricky so if you think i missed anything, lmk and i'll be happy to add it!
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After Party ☾
rockstar!vernon x fem!reader
Warnings: cursing, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, drug use (weed), established relationship, brief dry humping, oral (f. + m.), 69, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex (riding)
Summary: The afterparty is where the real memories are made
Word Count: 3.1k
_______________________________________________
(a/n: literally wrote this whole high but i haven’t posted in so long so enjoy my loves!!)
Vernon held your hand the entire bus ride to the party. You sat on his lap in the crowded space for the entirety of the ride. One of his hands lay on your waist and the other interlaced with yours.
You were wearing one of his leather jackets over your dress. His outfit was similar to yours, all black layered with a leather jacket. He loved matching with you, especially for his after-parties.
His band, 'Black Eye' just played their last show on tour. It's been a long and exhausting few months, but Vernon knows he'll miss the thrill of it. Now that they've made it big, the time he spends performing has never been more rewarding. Besides, he had you with him the whole time.
He really couldnt complain when he's able to spend months on end with you traveling the world. You weren't a member of the band, but you were his girlfriend. Where Vernon went, his girl went.
However, all good things must come to an end. They closed their last show on tour out with a banger and now after a bittersweet ending, they were ready to celebrate.
The tour bus rolled up to the house in the dark, causing Hoshi, the drummer to spill his second bottle of champagne. Of course, the party started the moment you stepped onto the tour bus. The boys were gathered alongside you popping champagne in celebration along the bumpy ride.
The bus stopped in front of the large house and opened its doors. The four boys and you stumbled off the bus and into the house drunkenly.
Guests had already started filling the large house, but the party really started when you and the boys arrived. There were instant cheers and alcohol being thrown your way as you walked through the doors of the house. Vernon kept his arm on your waist, holding you close to him as he guided you through the crowded walls of the house.
He stopped a few times to speak to friends. You stayed quiet, but your eyes remained fixated on him. There was something about the way your boyfriend carried himself that you found so attractive. He simply dapped up his friends, but it left you feeling some type of way and the snap he did after seemed to tickle your brain in the right way.
You made your way into the kitchen where Vernon started pouring shots for the two of you. You downed them easily despite the sting in your throat. You both slam the empty cups down onto the counter at the same time before Vernon pulls you in and kisses you. He's got a boyish grin that you only see when he's intoxicated plastered on his face.
He pulls away from the kiss silently before dragging you back through the crowd of people.
__________
Vernon leans back onto the couch and slings his arm over your shoulder. The music is pumping loudly through the house, but you can't seem to concentrate on anything but the painting on the wall.
You've been sitting still next to him and staring at the painting of a sailboat for nearly 10 minutes now. It only hits him now that you've been dead silent next to him and he hasn't felt you move.
You're too busy enthralled by the sailboat painting on the wall.
"You good, baby?" Vernon turns and looks at you. His eyes are half-lidded and his pupils are dilated.
You turn your head to face him slowly. You blink a few times with half-lidded eyes before nodding your head lazily.
Vernon grins at you like a teenage boy and lets out a breathy laugh. "Fuck.... you're gone."
"No?" You raise an eyebrow with confusion. "I'm right here."
He lets out another breathy chuckle and licks his lips slowly. "That's not how I meant it, baby. Don't worry about it. Just sit there and look pretty like always."
He's still got his arm around your shoulder and his legs are manspread widely across the couch.
Your face falls into a frown and you pout at him wordlessly. You lean closer against him, playing one hand on his chest, lightly tugging at the black shirt clinging to his skin. "No... I don't get it. Explain it to me."
"No baby," he mumbles. "I'm way too fucking crossed right now to explain anything. I promise it's nothing bad."
You whine. "Just tell me. I can't be gone if I'm right–"
You're cut off by his lips suddenly. It takes you by surprise, but you melt like ice cream against his lips. His hands cup your cheek gently and he kisses you lazily. His lips move against yours sloppily and you kiss him back in the same manner.
You moan into his mouth, causing vibrations along his skin. You kiss him needily, enveloping your tongue with his and resting your hand on the back of his neck.
He pulls away from the kiss slowly, keeping his face just inches away from yours. "You talk too much sometimes, you know." His hand has moved up your thigh, drawing small circles along your soft skin.
He leaves you breathless and needy. Every light touch is like electricity on your skin due to your heightened awareness. It leaves you aching for more.
Vernon is never really touchy with you in public. Small touches on your knee for comfort and hands gripping your waist to keep you close is really all he does in public. He's never really been big on PDA.
Unless he's under the influence.
You're the same way. Once there's a little bit in your systems, it's like no one else in the world exists and it hardly feels like you're even in public.
The hand cupping your cheek makes its way back to the table sitting in front of you. There's an ashtray and the remainder of the blunt he rolled for the two of you earlier.
He lifts it between his fingers before taking a long hit and inhaling. You watch intensely as the smoke leaves his lips and blows into your face.
Your eyes follow the blunt wedged between his fingers and reach out to take it from his hands. He hands it to you, licking his lips slowly as he watches you bring the blunt to your lips.
You move slowly, taking a large hit before exhaling the smoke into his face. Despite neither of your eyes being open all the way, you don't break eye contact with him.
You hand him back the blunt and move your face closer to his.
"Then shut me up," You reply, just loud enough for him to hear you.
His lips are back on yours in seconds. He leans over to his side, pressing his body against yours to deepen the kiss. He kisses you hungrily, lips still moving sloppily and lazily.
The scent of his cologne is intoxicating in the best way possible. That and the faint traces of weed and alcohol fill your nostrils as he holds your body close.
He puts the remainder of the blunt out and drops it in the ashtray. He uses his now free hand to pull you onto his lap. Your short dress rides up a little more and he smirks against your lips. His hands hold you by the waist and he pushes you down against his crotch.
He groans into your mouth and pulls away from the kiss. "Shit, you're making me hard."
You grin, noticing the way a bulge is forming against your inner thigh from beneath to constrains of his black jeans. You roll your hips against his once. Your core is throbbing and he can feel it against his cock.
"Should I blow you? Right here in front of everyone?" You smirk.
Vernon groans and tilts his head back against the couch. He lets out another breathy laugh in disbelief. "You're crazy, baby."
"That doesn't sound like a no to me" You look down at him, batting your eyelashes as your manicured fingers trace the outline of his cock.
He grips your hair in the back of your head and forces you to look at him. The look in your eyes is hazy and lustful. "I don't need an audience while you choke on my cock."
You frown. "No one's even paying attention. I just wanna taste."
"Then be patient. We can go back to the hotel if you're done partying."
You nod your head. He pats your butt. "Get up."
You comply like a puppet on strings. You climb off his lap, adjusting your dress and standing on your feet. He rises to his full height, adjusting his pants before grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you out the doors of the house.
He orders an Uber on his phone as you make your way through the crowded house. He holds you protectively until the moment you climb in the back of the uber.
The entire car ride, you struggle to keep your hands to yourself. Vernon has the decency to stop you before anything goes too far, but you still have a hard time retreating.
The moment the uber approaches the hotel, the two of you stumble out of the car and upstairs. You're extremely handsy and sloppy with all your movements.
Your back meets the door of the hotel room with a thud. Vernon is fumbling around trying to swipe the key card, but you're distracting him. You're kissing him eagerly as your hands undo the belt of his jeans.
Luckily there's no one in the hallways at this time of the night, although the security cameras must be getting a bit of a show. "Want your cock in my mouth." You moan against his lips.
"You gotta give me a sec," he says breathlessly as he tries fishing the keycard out of his pocket. His pants are halfway off and he's still a bit disoriented.
"You already made me wait so long," You pout, slipping a hand into his underwear.
He exhales shakily and finds the keycard in his pocket. He still has a hard time with your hands all over his skin, but he manages to get the door open before you take off his clothes in the middle of the hallway.
The two of you stumble into the hotel room and he kicks the door closed with his foot. Your back meets the bed and he climbs on top of you. You're quick to get his pants off fully and drop to your knees on the edge of the bed.
His cock is straining against his black briefs. And he's leaking through the dark material and you stare at him hungrily. You're practically drooling before his cock is even out.
He looks down at you lustfully and uses two fingers to tilt your head up and face him. "You're taking an awfully long time for someone who was so desperate."
You've always loved a challenge.
His briefs are pooled at his ankles moments later and your lips are wrapped around his cock. Your hand strokes what doesn't fit in your mouth and you're slobbering around his length.
His head is thrown back and he's moaning and groaning above you. One of his hands is buried in your hair while the other grips the hotel bedsheets beneath him.
You've completely soaked his cock, taking it into the depths of your throat with ease. He guides your head, pushing it down to take his length further into your throat.
It causes you to gag, but it doesn't cause you to stop.
You look up, seeing he's discarded the leather jacket that once clung to his body. You kneel between his legs, looking up at him in admiration. He's wearing nothing but a black t-shirt that clings to his body more as he sweats with each passing second. You can see the sharpness of his sculpted jawline. His adam's apple is prominent with his head tilted back and deep moans released from between his chapped lips.
"Oh yeah... fuckkkkk" He moans.
You continue bobbing your head, allowing the tip of his cock to gag you and press against the back of your throat. When you stop to catching your breath, he pulls you up by your hair.
"Need to taste you too," He groans. He pulls your damp panties down and tosses them before lifting your dress. He doesn't bother to take it off all the way, simply lifting you up and placing you down on the bed.
He buries his head between your thighs and dives in. Your hands grip his dark hair as his tongue laps your cunt.
"Wasn't–done" You moan out.
He ignores you, continuing to allow his lips to do the talking. He sucks on your clit and you whine out pathetically.
With shaky arms, you manage to find the strength in you to pull his mouth off your cunt. You push him down onto the bed and climb back on top of him. "I have a better idea."
He doesn't get a chance to respond before you're pressing your cunt back down onto his face. You shift your body and lick your lips once the tip of his cock presses against your cheek.
You take him back into your mouth. It sends shivers through your body when he moans against your pussy from the sudden stimulation.
You grind your cunt into his face weakly as you take him deeper down your throat. It’s so hard to concentrate and your body is going into overdrive. The mix of drugs, alcohol, and just Vernon’s presence is enough to have your head fuzzy. On top of that, his tongue is lapping your folds and you find it hard to bob your head.
Vernon thrusts his hips up, forcing his cock deeper down your throat as he moans into your pussy. You groan around his cock, sending child through his body that only make him fuck his cock down your throat faster.
He hooks his arms around your legs, pressing your hips down onto his face more. You’re both desperate to get off and get each other off.
You cum first, body growing stiff as you ride out your orgasm on his face. He cringes at the sudden loss of contact when you release his cock from your mouth, but he’s still determined to get you off. He continues to lap your folds, focusing on your clit as you cum on his face.
The feeling is euphoric and it leaves your legs uncontrollably shaky. He releases his hold on your thighs and allows you to roll onto the bed next to him.
You’re panting with your thighs squeezes shut. “Shit, that was good.”
He pulls your body in close against his and nods. You feel his throbbing hard cock press against your thigh. It twitches and aches for release. “Oh, you didn’t cum.”
He blinks slowly. “ ‘S okay. I know that was a lot of you.”
You shake your head, climbing back onto his lap. “Wanna fuck… have you cum inside me.”
He lets out a strangled groan. You rub the tip of his cock against your folds before sinking down onto him. He stretches you open, tip nuzzling deep inside your walls.
You both gasp at the feeling.
You hold onto his shoulders for support as you start bouncing on his length. You ride him slowly, fluidly moving your hips along his.
It’s a lazy fuck, but every movement is hitting just right. Your walls are squeezing him so tight and he knows he’s a goner.
He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms behind his head. “Hear that?” He smirks. “So wet for me… pussy was fucking made for this cock.”
He’s way too far gone to actually fuck you right now so he lets you do all the work. You bounce on his cock, squeezing around him each time he pushes deeper inside of you.
However, you’re farther gone and it only takes a few minute before your body betrays you. Your movements slow down and your hips nearly come to a stop.
Vernon groans. “C’mon baby… I’m almost there. Promise.”
“I can’t” You whine. “ ‘S too much.”
“You can,” he encourages you softly. He lifts his hips to meet yours. He doesn’t fuck you properly, simply picking up your slack to provide mutual pleasure.
His eyebrows are furrowed as he watches you ride him. His eyes are fixated on where your bodies meet. His cock is soaked from your arousal and he finds himself completely enamored with the sight. His cock swells and grows impossibly harder.
You can feel everything. The effects from your previous orgasm are still lingering, building toward your second.
You dress is still clinging to your sweaty body tighter. Vernon sits up, leaning into you and pulling down the strings of your dress. He doesn’t take it off, simply pulling it down enough to free your tits from underneath the fabric.
He buries his face between the soft flesh and latches his lips onto your nipple. You’re so sensitive already, the feeling is felt has your back arching.
His hand finds it’s way between your thighs and he begins circling your clit with his fingers. You hiss, squeezing him tighter as your body jolts.
His eyes roll back into his head and you can tell he’s getting close. You’re not much further than him, hips moving sloppily against his as you chase your own high.
“Gotta give you want you wanted,” He groans.
His thrusts meet your movements, fucking his cock deeper into you as you chase your highs.When it comes, there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
His fingers continue working on your sensitive clit and it has you falling apart in mere seconds. Your second orgasm is more intense than the first.
Vernon barely fucks you through it when his approaches simultaneously. You’re both moaning and groaning out to each other as his cock twitches inside of you. He pumps his load into you and his cock quickly grows sensitive.
Neither of you have ever cum that hard before.
It takes time for both of you to come down and fully recover from the intensity. He lifts you off his sensitive cock and allows you to rest beside him on the bed.
“That was…”
“Intense” He finishes your sentence for you.
“Yeah,” you breathe out.
He pulls your body close against his again. The two of you lay there in comfortable silence. You’re still v much under the influence and a moment of silence and bliss is much needed.
“Love you,” you mumble against his chest, breaking the silence after what felt like an eternity. “ ‘M so proud of you.”
“Love you too,” he pats the top of your head. “Thank you baby.”
You know you’ll need to clean up sooner or later, but for now, staying like this feels almost rewarding.
_______________________________________________
© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.
#seventeen smut#seventeen#seventeen fanfic#seventeen drabbles#vernon seventeen#vernon smut#vernon#chwe vernon#chwe hansol x reader#vernon chwe x reader#vernon chwe smut#kpop#svt smut#svt hard hours#svt hard thoughts#seventeen hard hours#seventeen hansol
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Hello, may I request Vernon x reader girlfriend making out in a car?
Ahagahgdfbfhhdhzzzzz Omg that is so hot!!!
Genre: Smut-ish, romance, established relationship
Pairing: Vernon x reader
Warnings: Minors DNI, Suggestive content, swearing, making out, touchy touchy, fem receiving DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR!!!
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
His hand was on your thigh, squeezing it gently while the other hand was on the steering wheel. He was a damn good driver, so you knew you were in good hands.
You bit your bottom lip as the anticipation grew. Gosh the mood was so right. You thought to yourself. How did we get here, you may ask...
Well you guys are on your way home after a dinner at Vernon's parents. At dinner, Vernon's mom had mentioned how she thought one day when you and Vernon would have a child, she could flex her grandkid because she is sure the baby will be super cute. Then Vernon's dad jokingly mentioned you two to get married soon and give them grandkids.
In that moment, you saw a shift in Vernon's mood. You knew him, the thought of making you pregnant riles him up every time. He has a breeding kink, a very very strong one.
So you knew he wanted to get you home soon, and fuck the hell out of you. And soon enough, Vernon had excused yourselves, lying how he had schedules in the morning.
Fast forward to now, you both were needy as hell. His hand on your thigh was the ultimate sign of his neediness.
He knew he had to stop driving as his mind was too horny to function. His brain was hazy, with all of the thoughts running through his head.
"Babe?", he spoke, his voice hoarse.
"Mmmm?", You replied, almost moaning.
The car took a massive turn, pulling up to a dark corner. Immediately his hand found you, despite the darkness.
Your eyes soon adjusted to the dark setting. The dim lights from the tiny lights in the vehicle illuminating your skin.
You were quick to crawl onto his lap, grabbing his head in your hands as you straddled him.
His hands roamed your body, one hand moving all over your back. You both made eye contact, mutually appreciating how the both of you looked under the dim lights. A little red here, a little blue there, a little white illuminating just enough for the both of you to find your way.
He pulled your face close, hungrily bringing his lips to yours, teeth clashing at the force. Switching sides, taking small breaths. You soon felt Vernon smiling into the kiss, even in this situation, Vernon managed to show his happiness. You knew the thought of the whole thing makes Vernon a happy happy man.
So you made it better by going lower, kissing his jawline, and then his neck. Sucking and biting there, eliciting a moan out of his pretty lips. "Fuck, baby. So good for me"
His hands rubbed both your thighs up and down, and soon you could feel his bulge growing bigger and bigger under you.
He pulled you into another kiss, taking the reins. his hand moving to the back of your neck, holding your face so he could taste your pretty mouth properly. His other hand skillfully worked its way into your panties, a finger gliding through your wet folds. You let out a whimper, and Vernon quickly let his tongue slide into your mouth, kissing you hungrily. Your lips moved it sync, tasting each other.
His fingers were now sliding into you, "Oh fuck" you moaned out, but it barely came out as Vernon was swallowing each and every moan you made. He took a little break, leaning back into his seat, taking in the beauty in front of him; his pretty girlfriend on his lap, dripping wet on his fingers, moaning his name and just a sexy mess. What a lucky man I am. He thought.
He continued to slide two digits into your dripping pussy, pulling moan after moan out of you. You kept grinding on him, wanting more and more friction as you felt your orgasm nearing.
"Fuck, Baby... Faster...", you moaned. One of Vernon's hands held your waist as the other fucked the breath out of you. His mouth found it's place in your neck, kissing and sucking all the right spots. He could feel you clenching on his fingers.
"Good girl, cum for me baby..", he cooed lovingly, breathless...
"Ohhhh... FUCKKKK!", you screamed out as your climax washed over you. You kept riding your orgasm while his fingers moved in and out of you, making you roll your eyes.
"Oh wow", you sighed and fell onto his chest as his movements stopped. You soon regained your senses. Vernon is hard. You could feel him under you. You reached your hands to palm him when Vernon stopped you by holding your hand. "Let's go home so I can fuck a baby into you.", he said.........
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AHsggdhshgsgshsh Hope you liked it!!!! *screaming. crying. throwing up*
#seventeen#seventeen smut#vernon#vernon smut#seventeen scenarios#seventeen reactions#seventeen oneshot#seventeen imagines#hansol vernon chwe#chwe hansol x reader#chwe vernon#hansol x reader#hansol smut#vernon x reader#vernon svt#vernon chwe#vernon seventeen#vernon scenarios#seventeen x reader#minors dni#kpop imagines#kpop#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#svt#smut#making out#kisses
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heads up! vernon performs fake surgery on med student!reader to cheer them up. he's just silly <3
"scalpel."
you have no idea what your boyfriend is doing. you've been slumped over the dinner table for the past who-knows-how-long because studying has turned your brain to mush (you're in med school, that's the medical term, you swear). vernon hums to himself, and then you can feel his index finger trailing down your back as he makes his own sound effects in the form of a steady beep... beep... beep... to simulate a heart monitor. his fingers trail across your back, as though searching for something, and the "beep"s turn a little more frantic.
"vernon, what are you--"
"patient's getting better," he says, and then immediately goes back to those faster 'beep--beep--beep's. "i think. heart rate is increasing. that's good right?"
you don't answer, burying your face in your arms again. you can't let him see you smile. he'll know whatever he's doing is working, and you kinda wanna see where he's going with this. he grabs a fistful of the back of your shirt, letting go as he draws his hand away, still making those beeps.
"the surgery is a success..." he says. "i've removed the heart... i've saved the patient."
you turn your face. "baby. you can't live without a heart. i think the patient's dead."
"nah," his hands rest on your shoulders, already kneading at them. "i stole your heart and you're still alive--"
immediately, you let out the loudest groan--although whether it's out of disgust for the cheesy line or amusement because he managed to entertain you, he can't be sure. he thinks its a mix of both, actually--but it doesn't matter. you're smiling now, and that's what he set out to do.
he leans over you, pressing a quick peck against your forehead. "food's here, by the way. gotta support my future doctor somehow."
(you don't have the heart to tell him that making you laugh is always enough... and not because he stole it.)
#nonranghaes.thoughts#seventeen x reader#nonranghaes.svt#svt x reader#seventeen imagine#seventeen x you#svt imagine#svt x you#chwe vernon fluff#chwe vernon x reader#vernon x reader#vernon fluff#chwe hansol fluff#chwe hansol x reader#yes i saw the video of him n the others doing their surgery pov thing again sdkfhsdfsf#they r so silly for that. him removing the heart is so stupidly funny to me like good job vernon... are you gonna... yknow...#replace it.... wheres the bypass machine thingy.... (<- not a med student)
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while watching nana tour. i realized how cute it would be travelling with vernon to the shooting location of call me by your name. being all cute with him in italy. riding bikes, eating gelato, taking a swim in the ocean. (cue mystery of love by sufjan stevens) ✨✨✨
first of all - vernon would have a whole ass playlist ready for your trip. in fact, he’d start making it the second you even mentioned the idea of going on a trip.
second of all - travelling with him would be so peaceful. you wouldn’t have to worry about deadlines or any responsibilities, it’d be just you and him.
you’d fight over which ice cream flavour is the best, eat tons of amazing pasta, do a lot of “salute” while laughing your asses off, and do the typical touristy stuff, like visit museums and the monuments.
one of the days would be dedicated to going on a road trip to the outskirts of town to visit the smaller villages, where you’d rent bikes and just live your best lives, while the playlist he made would be quietly playing from his phone. at some point you’d find a secluded part of the beach where you’d just run straight into to the water without worrying that your clothes were still on.
you’re so right for saying it’d be cute, i also feel like it’d be so peaceful and healing. you’d spend the time in your little bubble of love not worrying about anything other than which pizza you should order.
just imagine the smile vernon would while watching you have fun splashing the water on him, or when you’d yell out the lyrics to a song while biking.
lovesick that’s what he is.
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fluff#svt reactions#svt soft thoughts#svt soft hours#svt scenarios#vernon#chwe vernon#vernon x y/n#vernon x you#vernon x reader#chwe hansol x reader#seventeen hansol#vernon fluff#vernon imagines#vernon scenarios
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weekend off with vernon where you two just lay on each other's arms and watch a bunch of movies, both bad and good ones.
as the night falls, vernon tells you he's hungry, with his face pressed against your chest. you leave him on the couch to go make something to eat, only to feel him on you after a few minutes, body pressed to your side as he asks if you need any help.
"why don't you cut some tomatoes, hm?", you smile at him. he does as you say, standing right next to you as he goes about his task, asking you from time to time if "is this okay?" - meaning the way he's cutting it. it's cute, actually, how he tries his best for you two, always.
eating dinner at the couch also happens, as vernon hums in delight to the food you made him.
it's domestic, and it's relaxing. and it's just, you know... you and vernon.
#vernon x reader#vernon x you#vernon imagines#vernon headcanons#chwe hansol x you#chwe hansol x reader#chwe hansol imagines#chwe hansol headcanons#chwe vernon headcanons#chwe vernon imagines#chwe vernon x you#chwe vernon x reader#hansol headcanons#hansol imagines#hansol x reader#hansol x you#seventeen headcanons#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen x you#svt imagines#svt headcanons#svt x reader#svt x you#seventeen#svt#chwe hansol#chwe vernon#vernon
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BOYFRIEND TEXTS STARRING CHWE VERNON!
genre: crack, smau
#seventeen smau#seventeen x reader#seventeen#vernon x reader#chwe vernon x reader#chwe hansol x reader#svt smau#svt x reader#svt#svt imagines
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10:18pm | hansol vernon chwe
SYNOPSIS. in which it's late at night and your boyfriend is walking you home.
PAIRING. hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader
GENRE. fluff, established relationship
WARNINGS. one kiss, terms of endearment (babe)
WORD COUNT. 962
notes: inspired from a tiktok i found but can't find anymore since i like too much shit lmao </3 but u might know what i'm referring to
"Nonie?"
...
"Vernon? Babe?"
...
"Hansol Vernon Chwe!"
"Huh? Yeah?" Vernon finally diverts his attention back to you, right after you lightly swatted at his arm. He takes out his earphones and peers in your direction, watching the way the gentle breeze in the air flies through your strands of hair and the way the dim, overhead streetlight accentuates the small pout to your face.
Your pout gives way to his attentive gaze at you, his eyes softening as he focuses on you completely.
"You were completely zoned out," You tease, voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that's settled between you two at this hour. It isn't new where the two of you find yourselves trailing within the neighbourhood at night, especially since Vernon always insists on walking you home safe and soundly.
Vernon grins, his lips curling up in that familiar way that makes your heart skip a beat. "Sorry, just got lost in the music for a bit." He gestures to the phone in his hand, still softly playing the melody that had captured his attention.
You roll your eyes playfully. "Well, you missed the question I was trying to ask you."
Vernon's expression turns curious as he tilts his head slightly, adjusting his beanie. "What was it?"
He swears there's an almost-mischevious glint to your eyes that he pinpoints, or perhaps it was just the streetlight above that illuminated your face in a particular way. He purses his lips together with a patient look, waiting for you to ask the question you had been seemingly trying to ask him for the past few minutes.
"Do you think we're together in other universes too?"
Immediately, he feel his brows furrow together. Out of all questions, that question caught him by surprise, and he certainly wasn't prepared for it either. Vernon takes a moment to think, his gaze wandering briefly away and down the empty, quiet street you both are walking down together.
There's a faint smile to his face though𑁋he likes to think that yeah, in some way shape or form, you both are intertwined together too. He really likes that thought, to be honest. It's probably definitely entertained his mind a plentiful amount before, but it isn't until you mentioned it that it finally emerges out from deep within his thoughts. And knowing you're having those same kinds of thoughts makes his head spin.
"Like... you know those two cats that we sometimes pass by while walking?" You ask, kicking a branch down the pavement. "Maybe they're us, you know? Then in another universe, those cats are humans or aliens and we are the ones that they pass by."
And then your eyes glow even brighter before Vernon could even respond.
"Maybe! Maybe in a different universe... we're actually two rocks and we've been together for millions of years, slowly eroding side by side, getting rained and stepped on, but always touching in some way." Your thoughts are exploding with possibilities at this point, and Vernon takes it as an opportunity to admire the way your eyes seem to glisten as well, taking in every single one of your words amusedly. "Or maybe we're two trees who have grown together, and our branches are touching."
This makes Vernon direct his attention down to your hand, which is just inches away and barely grazing against his own, swinging slightly as you walk. Slowly, he takes your hand into his, and at first you don't seem to notice, but your fingers naturally lace together either way. It really gets his mind thinking about all the times he's thought about how your hands fit together almost too perfectly.
Maybe, in other universes, you both are meant to be connected in some way.
"You're really cute, you know that?" Vernon comments after you've ceased your rambling.
"That's what you're going to say after I've finally emptied out my brain? Confessed my undying love for you?" You huff annoyedly, but you don't let go of his hand, instead only tightening your grip on it.
"Well, I know that if you were a rock, you'd be a pretty one, like one of those you'd want to pick up as a lucky charm," he states. "and if you were a cat, you'd be these awfully clingy ones."
You gasp dramatically. "I am not clingy!"
Vernon just chuckles, bringing your interlocked hands up to eye level. "You're squeezing my hand really hard right now."
"That's because you're annoying," You quip, though your grip on his hand barely relents𑁋just enough to make sure you weren't stopping the blood flow through his arm. After a few moments of silence, your eyes catching sight on your house ahead, you bring yourself closer to him, knocking your shoulders together. "But... do you think we're together in other universes too?"
He doesn't give you an answer right away, only waiting until you open the front door to your house for him to land a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. It catches you off-guard, somehow leaving you utterly breathless even after you bid your goodnight, I love yous to each other, but it's enough to answer your question.
He hopes it does anyway. If it doesn't (or if it does, yet you're in need of constant reassurance), he wouldn't mind answering yes in other ways too.
Your lips still tingle with the feeling of his kiss as you close the door, a giddy smile playing on your face.
When Vernon walks back to his own home, he catches sight of the two cats you mentioned before watching him with their bright, curious eyes. One of the cats starts clawing at the other, pressing its body against the other playfully, much like the way you pressed your shoulder against his earlier.
A soft chuckle escapes his lips.
Yeah, he says to himself. Maybe those cats are us.
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BEAUTIFUL // Hansol Drabble
They had been eyeing each other the whole night.
Her gaze catching his first when her friend had notified her that one of the groomsmen had been staring from across the room.
It started off as sneaky glances all while the bride and groom continued with reception program, but the one second glances soon turned into lingering stares – a smirk playing on his lips each time their eyes would lock.
"Oh my god, please just go talk to him." Her friend urged as she caught her sending over a wink to man standing by the edge of the dance floor; looking down to hide his blush.
"A lady never makes the first move." She joked, toying with the straw of her drink; leaning back against the bar counter – waiting for her friend to receive her margarita from the bar tender.
She had only taken her attention off of him for a brief moment, taking a sip of her Paloma as her friend went on to talk about the floral arrangements at the celebration.
"Orchids who would have thou– gotta go." Her eyes wide, scurrying away from her without another word – leaving y/n dumbfounded.
"Hey."
Y/n jumped at the low voice that spoke behind her.
He had enough of their silent game, finally finding the courage to approach her – all with the help of Chan's nagging of course. He nearly stumbled on his own feet when his friend lightly shoved him towards the direction of the girl, reaching up to loosen his tie as he made his way to the her.
"I uh– Hansol." He held his hand out, the same soft smile he had been sending her on his lips.
"Y/n." She took his hand in hers. "I thought I would have to wink at you another time before you made your way over."
Shyly rubbing the back of his neck, Hansol let out a soft chuckle. "I'm shy."
"Me too, but my drink gave me a little boost of confidence." She brought her glass up to their eye line.
"Glad it did." He hummed. "You look beautiful, by the way."
Now it was her turn to blush, looking down at her feet to hide the redness of her cheeks.
They were absolutely pathetic.
Flirting like two shy teenagers.
"You're beautiful too." She smiled, meeting his eyes once again.
God, his stare could easily melt her into a puddle.
"Thank you?" His held tilted at the compliment, being the first time to be called beautiful by anyone.
"Would you prefer being called cute?"
"Beautiful is fine." He nodded, his smile had now grown to a full one.
Yep, definitely putty in his hands.
"There's no plus one I have to worry about, right?" Hansol didn't know where this boost of confidence had come from, not wanting to miss another opportunity of getting to know the girl stood before him.
She shook her head no.
"No one will be mad if I asked for your number?"
"Not a single soul."
"Perfect.
#VERNON BRAIN ROT IS SO REAL HERE IS A SMALL FLUFF#puking#spam drabbles#vernon x you#vernon fic#hansol vernon chwe#chwe hansol x reader#hansol x you#hansol fluff#hansol x reader#hansol scenarios#chwe hansol#vernon#svt scenarios#vernon x reader#vernon fluff#svt fluff
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On My Worst Behavior
Warnings: not proofread, facefucking, spit kink, rough vernon
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~0.6k
“Fuck,” Vernon breathes, his head dropping back to rest on the couch as you swallow him down again.
His hips buck up, sending his cock further down your throat and making you choke, your gag reflex valiantly repressed just for him. You’ve always let him take what he wants, always loved giving it to him, whether it’s letting him fuck your mouth like he is now or bending you over whatever surface is available like he will later. He used to hold back, nervous about being so careless with you, but by now he knows very well just how wet you get when he’s rough.
He grips your jaw with calloused fingers, his thumb tracing over your thundering pulse before pressing into the column of your neck just so he can feel your throat working around him. You sputter a bit when he shoves his cock deeper into your mouth but he knows you’re drenching your panties, knows that if he slid his hand between your legs it would come away sopping wet, knows he could probably sink into you right now if he wanted to, your cunt always ready to stretch for him no matter how fucking tight you feel once he’s inside.
He’s happy with your mouth for now, but he likes it messy so he pushes you off with the hand on your throat and hooks two fingers over your bottom lip, pressing them down on your tongue and pulling your lips apart so he can lean down and spit into your mouth.
“Spit it on my cock, baby,” Vernon demands, his voice gravelly with pleasure and his balls tightening up at the sight you make.
Your lips are swollen, wet and shiny and so fucking pretty, your mascara trailing down your face from the tears that have been leaking from your eyes, which stare unwaveringly into Vernon’s as you purse your lips and let the spit dribble onto his dick.
You move your hand up to spread the slickness but that’s not what he wants and you know it, so when he quirks a brow and lets his mouth harden into a thin line, you take his cock between your lips and slowly slide it back onto your tongue, your lips pushing the wetness down his length until it’s buried in your throat and the spit bubbles at the corners of your mouth.
“That’s it, fuck,” he groans, the sound coming from deep in his chest as you start to bob your head, your fingernails digging into his jean-covered thighs and your knees tightly clenched together.
You probably want something inside but he’s not ready to give it to you yet, wants to let that aching emptiness build until you’re desperate for it, until you cry for it, until you beg him for it.
And you will beg him, he knows from experience, but you can’t with his cock stuffed in your mouth and his hand cupping the back of your neck, holding you down and controlling your pace.
He lets the smirk spread his lips, his black eye stinging at the rise of his cheek, and lets you up for air, grinning when your wet gasps meet his ears.
You suck in deep breaths and smooth your hands up and down his thighs, your brows screwing up as you struggle to find your voice.
“Vernon, please, please fuck me.”
“You can do better than that, can’t you, sweetheart?”
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