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#hansol vernon chwe x reader
mingtinys · 11 days
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" i am so proud of you "
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pairing : hansol chwe x gn!reader
"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"
warnings : language
word count : 0.6 k
a/n : got a little carried away with this one , something about writing for vernon is just so fun
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"I was thinking, why don't we go out tomorrow to that restaurant you really like? To celebrate and all."
"I'd really like that." You call back, glancing over at your boyfriend who is still busy washing dishes at the kitchen sink. Though he isn't looking directly at you, you can just make out the excited look in his eyes and the toothy grin gracing his lips. He's been like that since you told him about your promotion at work. Honestly, you didn't expect him to make such a fuss over it. It was a relatively small promotion, just a raise and a slightly higher title. But that sunny expression on his face could make someone think you'd hit CEO status.
"I'll make reservations after I finish up here." His words are barely audible over the running water. You're about to thank him when your phone buzzes to life beside you.
Incoming call from Boo Seungkwan.
Seungkwan? You think, narrowing your eyes at the screen. Why on earth could he be calling you and not Hansol?
"Hello?"
"Y/N!" His excited voice comes through the speaker. "You're not busy right?"
"Not really, no. Why, what's up?"
"I— well we all wanted to call and congratulate you on your promotion!" A chorus of voices flood your phone and you take it you're on speaker with the rest of the members.
"That's very sweet of you all, thank you." It's nice, having so many people in your corner cheering you on. "But how'd you know? I only just found out about it a couple hours ago."
"You're joking right?" It sounds like Chan. "Hansol won't shut up about it in the group chat."
"He talks about me?" You ask no one in particular
"Yeah, like an annoying amount." That's definitely Mingyu.
There's a short altercation on the other side of the call, probably Seungkwan trying to wrestle his phone back from various members. But you don't pay much mind, the warm feeling in your chest taking over all other senses. You let your gaze drift back to Hansol, who is now on his laptop, nodding along to whatever song is currently playing in his head.
"Just, give it here—! Sorry about that," Seungkwan's voice jolts you from a daze. "Anyways, we just wanted to give you our compliments. We'll let you get back to your night."
Good, because tears are already welling up at your lashes and you're not sure how much longer you can hold back the stitch in your throat. "I appreciate it, tell everyone I said thank you."
You hang up before Seungkwan can respond and promptly make your way to the kitchen. Hansol's nose is still buried in his laptop, eyes squinted as his fingers peck at the keys. "Okay," He says upon the realization of your presence. He hits the enter key rather dramatically. "Reservations are made and you're . . ." His words teeter off when he looks up, met with your tear-filled gaze.
He takes a beat. Brows furrowed and head cocked to the side. "–You're crying. Shit, wait— why are you crying?" Hansol panics. He rushes to you, taking your face between his warm hands. Holding you the way one would hold fine China. Carefully, his thumb comes to swipe a stray tear from your cheek.
"You tell your members about me?" You sniffle. Hansol's eyes go wide and his mouth opens and closes like a fish before he conjures up an answer. "Was I not supposed to?"
The pure concerned cluelessness in his voice makes you giggle and he seems to relax when he realizes he's not in trouble. "I just didn't know you bragged about me like that, it's sweet."
"I am so proud of you,"  Hansol speaks with unashamed sincerity. "Why wouldn't I brag about your accomplishments?"
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taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat
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wheeboo · 14 days
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laundry day | hansol vernon chwe
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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!
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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."
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another note: guys idk what i just wrote lol its like 90% dialogue n rushed HAHSADSA
taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @tanya596carat @starshuas @totomoshi
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thepixelelf · 7 months
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city boy, ilyyy (16+)
smau oneshot, Vernon x reader
genres/notes: comedy, romance, past summer fling to lovers. it's not really mentioned but reader is a country boo in the big city. seokmin's getting a cat which means... more content in this universe...👀? (in my mind it's the same au as whatever u say but set before it)
warnings: two characters have sex within the timeline of this smau. it is not described in detail, but it is discussed. I consider this to be approx 16+. insects (no pictures).
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references:
"country boy I love youuuu" vine
wadda hell... bulnosaur (3 images to make them smaller)
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kdrama: Are You Human Too?
"it just don't make cents luv" meme (I can't find it atm but it was basically a picture with the caption "me giving a tour of the old abandoned penny factory" or something followed by a screenshot of a girl's snapchat captioned "it just don't make cents luv")
this turned out very differently from how I originally planned it (was going to be multiple bugs and multiple rescues) but nevertheless I hope y'all like it!
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ahlovelightaflame · 4 months
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Vernon's First Semester Prank ~ *Vernon Chwe*
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Summary: All you want to do after a long school week is watch sappy movies and eat unhealthy amounts of junk food. However, a wrench is thrown at those plans when a random boy shows up at your dorm door. And, wait, is he... naked?!
Pairing: Vernon Chwe X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluffy Oneshot
Word Count: 1757
Warning: Mentions nudity (no spice), swearing, Vernon might be a little OOC
Masterlist
Taglist: @plutonieve
It had been a really, really, really long week. Honestly, you don’t think you were ever going to get the hang of hybrid learning. It’s not that it was harder, it’s just you forgot about a lot of deadlines and were never really motivated to do what needed to be done when you didn't have a professor screaming in your face to get it done. Nevertheless, you had made it through the week, which meant you got to reward yourself.
Curling up into a blanket burrito, you set up a Netflix marathon and made sure all of your favorite snacks were within arms reach. There was nothing like treating yourself to a well-deserved marathon of cheesy movies and shows. Really, as long as it took your mind off of the past week of work, you were down for it. Besides, who wouldn’t want to overdose on sugar and caffeine?
Just as you were about to start the first movie, there was a frantic knock at your door that made you pause. You let out a groan, frustrated that you had to leave your warm little cocoon right as you got comfortable. Besides, you didn’t order anything and all of your friends were busy tonight, so there shouldn’t be anyone at your door. And just as you expected, when you opened the door, no one was there. Swearing under your breath, you shut the door and made your way back to your little nest.
However, just as you were about to curl into it again, there was another knock at the door, this time more persistent than before. Swearing a little louder this time, you went to the door to find no one there, again. Scowling, you muttered into the hallway, “If you’re just going to be a dick, don’t bother, asshole.”
“Psst!”
A voice made you pause from shutting the door once more. You frowned when a boy’s head peered from around the door. You blinked in surprise. You’ve seen him before on campus, but you couldn’t remember his name to save your life. Probably someone from one of your online classes or something.
He looked positively panicked as he whispered, “Hey, my friends dared me to run around the hall naked and then completely ditched me. You’re the only one who opened the door, so can you please, please, please help me? I promise to pay you back with interest! I swear on my life!”
“Are you drunk?” You deadpanned.
He gave a pained smile. “A little bit. Does that mean you’re not going to help me?”
“I never said that.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This isn’t some kind of elaborate prank right? Like you’re not faking naked just to get into my dorm room, right?”
With a horrified expression, he frantically shook his head. “I would never, ever, EVER do something like that! I swear, I just need to borrow your phone and maybe some pants and then I’ll be out of your hair, I swear!”
Weighing your options in your head, you sighed. Who were you to deny the poor guy who was already embarrassed enough? You moved out of the way and gestured for him to come in, as you averted your eyes. It's not like you were going to take advantage of the situation and take a peak. “Alright, fine, I’ll help you.”
He let out a relieved sigh before quickly rushing into the room. You went into your closet and grabbed a fluffy yellow towel before holding it out to him, still not looking. “I don’t have anything that could fit you, unfortunately, but hopefully this will help.”
“Thanks.” He mumbled, before tapping you on the shoulder to let you know that he was decent. When you looked at him again, you tried to not look at his sculpted pectorals or the faint spray of chest hair leading downwards, although it was much easier said than done. Really he looked like your stereotypical model with that kind of body. It was hard to keep the drool in your mouth.
Taking a deep breath, you snatched your phone before holding it out to him. “Before I give this to you, you have to tell me one thing.”
“And that is?” He sounded nervous.
“What’s your name?”
He blinked before smiling boyishly, almost making you melt right there on the spot. “It’s Vernon. Hansol Vernon Chwe.”
You snapped as things clicked in your brain. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere! You’re in my research class, aren’t you?”
Vernon's face lit up as he nodded. “Yeah, I am! I sat behind you in class today, actually.”
Smiling, you replied, “Sorry it took so long for me to remember. I’m not that good with names and faces, you know?”
“Yeah, I understand. I'm not either. I honestly didn't realize it was until you mentioned the research class.”
You chuckled. While handing him the phone, you added, “Just whatever you do, don’t waste my battery, okay?”
He nodded. “Thank you so much for this. I sincerely appreciate it.”
You smiled brightly. “It’s nothing, really.”
As he started to call his friends, you curled up into your little nest again, starting your movie that you were going to watch before Vernon showed up. You tried to focus on it the best you could, but you found yourself glancing over at the boy pacing behind you, trying to get a hold of at least one of his friends. You honestly felt bad for him. He had some pretty scummy friends if they just left him naked and alone on the girls side of the dorm.
“Damn.” He muttered, making you turn around.
“Still nothing?”
He shook his head before adding quietly, “And I may have accidentally drained your battery.”
“What was the one thing I told you not to do?” You teased him.
“I’m sorry!” He whined. “I didn’t mean to! Honestly!”
You couldn’t help but laugh at his frustrated state, even though you knew it was mean. “It’s okay, really! Look, you’re obviously stressed out and the best cure for that is to eat crappy food and watch even crappier movies. Want to join me?”
A small look of panic flashed on his face before he nodded slowly. “S-sure, that sounds fun.”
Giving him an encouraging smile, you made some room for him to sit. You wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and before he could protest, you said, “I don’t want you to get cold. Besides, it’s not that big of a deal. It gets kind of chilly here, that’s all.”
You didn’t know why you were explaining yourself to him, but you felt like you were about to give the boy a heart attack if you didn’t. So you simply pressed play on the movie and cuddled into your cocoon. Before too long, you and Vernon were laughing and teasing the actors on the screen. It was nice seeing him so at ease.
Tonight worked out perfectly, as both of you had forgotten about the stress you were previously worrying about. Most of the snacks were already eaten and you were practically laying on top of him, forgetting that he was still naked. It felt as if you two had been best friends all of your life. In the back of your mind, you admitted to yourself that you could get used to this, making you blush despite yourself.
At around three in the morning, you heard someone calling for Vernon, which reminded you both of the reason why he was in your dorm room in the first place. You sat up as he quickly got to his feet, making the towel wrapped around his waist dip low, exposing his V-line. You bit your lip as he frantically fixed it.
“Sorry about that.” He muttered, his face, ears, and top of his chest a bright red.
You shook your head, “No, it’s fine. You should probably get going.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Thank you again for tonight. It was super fun.”
“Well, if you want to do this again sometime, you know when you’re wearing actual clothes, that would work for me?” You suggested, feeling nervous all of a sudden.
Again, he nodded slowly, but there was a fond smile on his face this time. “Sounds absolutely perfect.”
It was your turn to blush at his words. “Gotcha. Well, if you wanna write your number down, considering you killed my phone-”
“I said I was sorry.” He whined, both of you laughing. He quickly scribbled his number on a sticky note before handing it to you.
Nodding you added, “You can also return my towel that way too.”
He nodded, giving an awkward laugh. “Right, of course.”
The sound of Vernon’s name being called louder made you sigh. “You should get going already.”
Again, he nodded. “Bye Y/n.”
"Oh wait!" You stop him and he looks at you expectantly. "Make sure you give those scummy friends of yours a piece of your mind after what they did to you. For me, okay?"
He laughed. "Will do."
"Bye Vernon."
As he left your room, his friend and roommate, Seungkwan, slung his arm over his shoulder before wiggling his eyebrows at his younger friend. “What did you two do in there while we were out?”
“Watched movies and ate food.” He told him truthfully with a shrug.
“Is that all?” His other friend, Hoshi, teased with a chuckle.
Vernon shoved them both. “Yes! That was all we did! Get your minds out of the gutter.”
“So you had a date with your crush.” Hoshi mussed up his hair. “That’s so adorable!”
Scowling, Vernon exclaimed, “You know I wouldn't have been in this mess if you two hadn’t been assholes and left me stranded with no phone or clothes!”
“Hey, if we didn’t you wouldn’t have scored a date with your crush.” Seungkwan reminded him.
He blushed faintly, making Hoshi gasp. “Did you maybe score a second date as well?!”
“Maybe…”
As his two friends started to yell and cheer for him, Vernon pulled his bottom lip into his mouth to chew on. 
“We have to celebrate in the dorm!” Seungkwan shouted and the two of them began dragging Vernon back to the dorm room.
Vernon couldn’t help but smile as they did so. Even if he was still pissed at them for their stupid prank, he was happy to finally have gone on a date with you, even if you didn’t think it was. Perhaps the next time it could actually be official.
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jenowithjaem · 16 days
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Masterlist
about the author
key: ☁️=fluff 🌧️=angst ❤️‍🩹=hurt/comfort 🔞=smut/suggestive 🤡=humor
Choi Seungcheol
• this angsty thing 🌧️❤️‍🩹
Yoon Jeonghan
Nothing yet
Hong Jisoo (Joshua)
Nothing yet
Wen Junhui
Nothing yet
Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi)
Nothing yet
Jeon Wonwoo
• Small town bad boy 🌧️☁️
Lee Jihoon (Woozi)
Nothing yet
Xu Minghao (The8)
Nothing yet
Kim Mingyu
Nothing yet
Lee Seokmin (DK)
• Misfortune ❤️‍🩹🤡
Boo Seungkwan
Nothing yet
Hansol Chwe (Vernon)
• Allergies 🤡
Lee Chan (Dino)
Nothing yet
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vex91 · 6 months
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SEVENTEEN
(f) - fluff, (a) - angst, (af) - angst + fluff (s) - smut
Choi Seungcheol:
Nothing yet...
Yoon Jeonghan:
Nothing yet...
Joshua Hong:
Nothing yet...
Wen Junhui:
Nothing yet...
Kwon Soonyoung:
Nothing yet...
Jeon Wonwoo:
Nothing yet...
Lee Jihoon:
Nothing yet...
Lee Seokmin:
Nothing yet...
Kim Mingyu:
Nothing yet...
Xu Minghao:
Nothing yet...
Boo Seungkwan:
Nothing yet...
Hansol Vernon Chwe:
Nothing yet...
Lee Chan:
Nothing yet...
OT13:
Nothing yet...
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kozukensgf · 2 months
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bf texts with vernon!
genre: smau, crack, fluff
character: chwe hansol
warning(s): none
masterlist
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part one | part two | part three
1K notes · View notes
babyleostuff · 1 month
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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)
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...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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miraclewoozi · 3 months
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DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs
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the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome.  or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it. 
pairing ; vernon x gn!reader.  content ; all the tropes. 5 times fic. soulmate au. slight college au if you squint. f2l. fluff, some angst. pining. one (1) hint of suggestiveness if u squint. MINORS STILL DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.  content notes ; mentions of reader having a(n unnamed) partner & thereafter, going through a breakup due to said partner cheating. reader is maybe implied to be shorter than him but hopefully not too obviously or frequently. alcohol is mentioned & is a key theme in scene #3. pov switch for the final part (necessary for logistical reasons.) PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c ; 9.6k note ; welcome to thee most self indulgent fic ever lmao. i hope u enjoy this slight break away from what i usually post here (as if my entire brand isn’t writing losers in love. ANYWAY) -- this was very fun and a little bit special for me! <3
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“What was your first kiss like?”
Initially, Vernon swears he just didn’t hear you right. It’s dark up here, where you’re hiding away from a party on the roof of his university accommodation and he’s starting to get tired. There’s some sort of siren wailing away in the distance to his left, and on the street below, a gaggle of freshmen are cackling as they walk past the building. His ear closest to you is currently listening to your favourite song. 
All the signs suggest that he simply got it wrong. 
But he doesn’t know if he believes those signs, especially not seeing as when he looks over at you, you’re staring pointedly up at the stars overhead. He doesn’t doubt that you’re giving yourself an ache in your neck in the process, too.
“Hmm?” He asks, taking out the earphone that connects him to you. The other one is still nestled away in your ear and he reaches to gently pull it away. “What was that?”
You still don’t look at him, but you do repeat yourself. Quietly. “What… was your first kiss like?”
“Oh.” 
He was right. 
“You don’t have to tell me,” you hurry to say, hugging his jacket tighter around yourself to block out the cold air that blows across the rooftop. He shrugged it off and told you to take it the very moment your teeth started chattering — almost an hour ago now. His arms are bare, shoulders and biceps only covered by a t-shirt so thin it’s practically sheer, but he isn’t cold. He’s always run hotter than most. “Sorry.”
He nudges you with his knee, silently telling you that you don’t need to apologise. He doesn’t mind — you just caught him off guard; Vernon hasn’t given this any thought in a long time, and he has to really put his mind to coming up with an answer. It was forever ago — when he was eleven or twelve, maybe, with his first ever girlfriend. They dated for a whole two and a half weeks. He doesn’t know if it really counts: the kiss was a dare, after all. 
“Kinda…” He starts, trying to follow the line of your sight, wondering if he can find the exact stars you’re looking at. “She’d just put this weird lipgloss on. It was real tingly. And like, neither of us knew what we were doing? So it… got everywhere. I think I ended up swallowing some, I don’t know. My mouth felt weird after. Thought I was having an allergic reaction.”
You laugh softly at him. “I think that would put me off for the rest of my life,” you say. 
“It almost did,” he chuckles. You hum at him and lean back on your elbows, leaving Vernon more than a little bit confused. He readjusts his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest as he tilts his head down at you in your new position. 
“…why?” He asks, just as you close your eyes and take a deep inhale of the cool air. 
You just shrug. “I guess I just… wondered.”
He nods, and it’s his turn to fall short of a response, but that’s okay. You’ve known each other for too long for these silences to feel uncomfortable. He grew up with you. In fact, he’s reasonably sure he’s told you this story before. He must have done. 
Then he realises, maybe he hasn’t. Because he doesn’t know the story behind yours, and maybe that’s just a line the two of you never came to crossing. He knows he told his other friends, back then, because he was the last one in his circle to have a first kiss and he felt like it made him more grown-up, or something. Naturally, he left out the more embarrassing details. But maybe you just told your other friends who weren’t him, and went on with your life. Maybe yours was just… normal. 
Either way, he’s interested now. And there’s no time to ask like the present. 
“What was yours like?” He asks, fiddling with the strap on his wristwatch. You don’t answer straight away; he doesn’t think anything of it, because neither did he, but when he’s still waiting for you to speak a small eternity later, he prompts you again. “Hey, it can't have been worse than mine.”
You snort. 
“You’ll laugh at me,” you say, shaking your head. Vernon furrows his brows and drops his legs flat, twisting to one side to look at you. 
He doesn’t know where you’d get that idea from, but he’s… almost a bit offended by it?
“No I won’t,” he tells you softly. Maybe at first, he might’ve laughed with you, if your story happened to be as dumb as his own. But not at you. Never at. Not when he’s been the butt of the joke in too many friendship circles, for about as long as he can remember. 
You take a shallow breath, pursing your lips. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not…” you start to say, before you clear your throat and try again, this time heading in a different direction. “I don’t know. It’s dumb, I guess.”
“Don’t make me come down there,” Vernon threatens playfully, poking you in your side. You squirm, giggling despite yourself, despite the serenity of the sanctuary you two have found, despite the fact that you, too, were on the edge of falling asleep before your question came out of nowhere.  
He pokes you again, and again, and then starts to tickle your ribs instead. You squeal, swatting his hands away to no avail and you move to sit up, grabbing him by the forearms to physically make him stop. The grin on Vernon’s face is wide and heart-shaped. A warm feeling spreads through him: it has everything to do with the sweet sounds of your slowly dissolving laughter. 
You sit cross-legged across from each other like this for a moment or two. Your knees are touching. Your hands move down his arms until you’re holding him firmly by the wrists. Your eyes lock together: his crease with the sheer force of his boyish smile, while yours are narrowed, daring him to try and wiggle free and attack you again. 
He doesn’t, but for the first time ever, he’s struck with the urge to do something maybe more scary. 
The urge to just… lean in to you. 
It makes his heart do a backflip, in a way that it hasn’t done since he had his last crush. His head goes empty, and he forgets what he was even asking you before: the only thoughts he can muster are ones regarding what your lips taste like, whether they’re half as soft as they look, if you’d lightly touch his shoulder or his arm or his chest or his cheek—
Do you smile when you kiss?, he wonders. Do you sigh? Do you—
“I’ve never kissed anyone,” you answer, looking away now and letting go of him. He’s gone so loose in the moments since you grabbed hold of him that when you’re not supporting their weight, his arms fall like two cinder blocks onto his knees. 
True to his word, he doesn’t laugh. He’s surprised by your revelation, sure, but in no way humoured; actually, he feels a little saddened by it, for a reason he can’t put his finger to. He ends up not saying anything, just biting the inside of his cheek; he wants to ask why, but knows maybe that’s a bit of a dick move, and if it’s something you’re sensitive about he doesn’t want to risk hurting you.
But he’s watched people fawn over you for years, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever been short of attention from those who have thought you were attractive. So it can’t be that you’ve been lacking in chances? Surely?
“I thought… maybe I should save it,” you go on to explain. Your hands keep busy by playing with a thread at the cuff of his jacket sleeve, wrapping it around one finger until the skin beneath it pinches before you unravel it again. 
“Save it?” He asks. You nod your head.
“For when I thought I’d found them.” You pause, swallowing hard. “Like I said, it’s s—.”
“No it’s not,” Vernon says abruptly, shaking his head. He holds onto you now, one hand slipping around your back until it rests on the shoulder furthest away from him. You scoff. He squeezes you into his side. “Hey. It’s not stupid.”
He doesn’t like how this admission has, somehow, made his desire to kiss you stronger. He hates that he feels even more drawn to you, a magnet finally finding its opposing pole. It freaks him out a little. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly. 
Red button theory, he tells himself to try and get back on the straight and narrow. If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would be happening.
“It’s romantic,” he says finally, swiping his thumb in small motions over the top of your shoulder. You nod, mumbling a ‘thank you’ (for what, he isn’t sure), and shiver. Vernon doesn’t know if that’s because of his proximity to you or because you’re finally starting to feel the cold. Either way, he takes the initiative to stand up and holds a hand out for you to take so he can tug you to your feet too. You get up with a little hop. 
It’s… devastatingly cute.
“Where are we going?” You ask, brushing off your jeans before shoving your hands into the jacket’s pockets. He’s already on the retreat, walking backwards towards the door that took you up here.
“To get food,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That party was dead, anyway.”
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It doesn’t cross his mind again until your twenty-first birthday. 
He’s not your soulmate. He couldn’t be. The thought he had on the roof that autumnal night was little more than a passing fantasy; besides, he doesn’t have a thing for you. He doesn’t want to kiss you, or date you, or have you be his soulmate. The reason you work so well together is because you’re just friends; he thinks you’d drive each other crazy if things ever went romantic between you. You bicker with him for sport. He drowns away hours at a time with his headphones clamped over his ears and forgets to answer your texts. It would be a nightmare. 
Not that he’s ever thought about all that. Not actively, or even passively. Not when he should be listening to college lectures instead, for example. Not awake, nor in his dreams. He hasn’t. Not once. 
He swears. 
“You can save it ‘til tomorrow, if you want.”
Vernon bounces his leg nervously, fidgeting with the edge of your comforter as you sit on the floor in front of him, styling your hair for your party. He arrived half an hour ago while you were still waltzing around in your bathrobe, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in both of his hands. It’s several degrees too warm in your bedroom. He feels a bead of sweat roll down his back as you grumble what seems to be a threat at a strand that won’t cooperate. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. (If you do, he’s grateful that you don’t say anything.)
“But it’s my birthday today,” you pouted, taking the box from him. “Let me finish getting ready, then I’ll open it. Come on.”
His wrist still aches with the pressure you held onto him with as you dragged him up the stairs. Your parents are away for the weekend and the house is all yours, so there’s a speaker blasting your favourite playlist full volume on your nightstand and there’s nobody to tell you to turn it down. He flits his attention between his phone and watching you, but he can’t fully concentrate on either; he’s too nervous that maybe you won’t like his gift, and he’s never been the type to splash out on birthday presents before but this… well, it burned a hole in his wallet, that’s for sure. 
“Okay. Wait here,” you tell him as you push up off the floor, limping on the leg that had started to fall asleep thanks to the way you were sitting. 
“All right,” he says back. As if he’d go anywhere, anyway. 
You grab a hanger from inside your closet and scurry off down the hall to the bathroom. For the first time, Vernon feels like he can actually breathe. He drops his phone onto the comforter between his crossed legs and cradles his head in his hands, telling himself that he needs to get it together. You’ve never not liked anything he’s given you, and you’ve known him now for more birthdays than you haven’t. 
Your friends said you’d love it. So did your mother, with a sparkle in her eye as she held it delicately in her fingers. He has nothing to worry about. It’s only you.
And yet—
“You’ll be honest if it looks bad?” You call from the other side of the door, interrupting how his lips move wordlessly in an endless mantra of self-reassurances. 
Vernon snaps his head up and he clears his throat, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Aren’t I always?” He answers.
You click your tongue, evidently disagreeing, but you pull the handle and take a step into the room anyway. When you see him, he looks exactly as he did when you left, no trace of his anxieties anywhere to be seen on his face or otherwise. 
When he sees you, he feels like the world could end any moment and he’d be okay with that. 
His mouth runs dry and his eyes seem to be stuck open, unblinking, fixated on you in your all black outfit as you stand still as a statue with your hands behind your back. You cough quietly, waiting for some kind of a response other than a dumb stare, but it doesn’t come. 
Eight seconds later… still nothing. 
“Do you hate it?” you fret, because Vernon is a very good hype-man and you’ve never known him struggle to find something positive to say. “All right, uh— okay—”
“No!” He rushes, almost shouting in his urgency to assure you that that’s not the case at all. He scrambles up to his feet, taking a breath, and pushes a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, and he kind of hates how his fingers catch on a tangle even though he brushed it meticulously before he left his apartment. You keep telling him it looks good, though, so he hasn’t been to get it cut. “God, no. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”
It doesn’t sound like much to the untrained ear, but the warmth of his compliments comes less in the words he says and more in the sincerity he says them with. Your face softens, and Vernon can see the way the thoughts of changing into something else fizzle out behind your eyes. He takes a backwards step to try and tempt you further into your own bedroom, and you move in tandem with him, closing that space and coming better into the light. 
“Wow,” he says, swallowing hard and looking you up and down. “I-… wow.”
It’s your turn to clam up, now. You look down at the floor, kicking at the carpet with your toes. “Shut up,” you say. “I’m not...”
“Yes, you are,” he protests, leaving no room for argument as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but… yeah, it’s gonna work.”
You walk past him with a scoff, barging against his shoulder on your way; he dramatically staggers to the side, rubbing at the impact site, laughing. When he faces you again, you’ve picked the gift up from the end of your bed and are moving to sit on the mattress yourself. Your eyes flicker between Vernon and the empty space in front of you. He takes the hint, settling back down with one foot tucked beneath him, the other still planted on your rug. 
His heart shoots back up into his throat and he stares down at the box, licking over his lips and frowning at how dry they feel. He glances away, lifting a hand to his mouth, running his fingertips over his lips. What would they feel like pressed against yours? He thinks, and then he cringes again. 
You misread his reaction and hesitate with your finger pressed underneath a strip of tape, tilting your head at him. “What’s going to jump out at me when I open this?” 
“Nothing,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. “What do you take me for?”
“The kind of guy who puts glitter in birthday cards because he thinks it’s funny,” you retort, earning a click of his tongue. 
“That was one time!”
“One time too many.”
“I swear,” he laughs, tight shoulders easing, both hands falling to his lap. “No sparkles, no loud noises, nothing jumpy. Cross my heart.“
You eye him a little suspiciously but eventually tug your finger beneath the wrapping and make the first rip in the paper, allowing you to tear into the gift after keeping Vernon on edge for almost an hour and a half. You peel it away and it falls to the bedsheets, in your hands now a small, square box not too dissimilar a shade to your comforter. You look from it, to him, and he thinks you notice how his cheeks are a little darker than they were before. 
He nods at you once and you slowly pull it open. On a plush, velvety bedding sits an elegant, dainty bracelet. A small gemstone is set in the metal of the bar in the middle of the chain. You skim a thumb over it, your breath held.
“Vernon,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the bracelet to look at him. Now, even the tips of his ears have grown flushed, but you’re kind enough not to comment on it to avoid spoiling the moment you’re in. “This is…”
“The lady in the store said it was your birthstone,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “I mean… I’m really just taking her word for it, ‘cause they all look the same to me, but—”
He’s interrupted as all of your weight topples against him, arms thrown around his neck in a hug. He hesitates a moment before he wraps his own around your waist, drops his head to your shoulder and he smiles wider than he thinks he ever has. “Happy Birthday,” he says, dragging his thumb up and down over your hip. 
“Silly,” you scold him playfully, still pressing wholly against him and showing no signs of moving. Your voice sounds thick, a little like you’re tearing up, so Vernon squeezes you tighter. 
“I know you are,” he chuckles. “But what am I?”
You swallow hard, finally now pulling away from the hug but sitting entirely too close for comfort, one knee pressing into the outside of his thigh. 
Your surprise attack has left him dishevelled. With a quiet apology, your fingers innocently try to smooth everything back into place, but Vernon doesn’t hear you say you’re sorry. His pulse, thundering in his ears, drowns it out while also skipping a beat with each little touch. You’re not looking into his eyes as you shyly put him back to rights, too busy working to tame his — at the best of times — unruly hair. 
He’s looking into yours though, and he can’t stop. 
Your eyes, which dart all over to find strands out of place, so your hands can move them to where they ought to sit and lay them down flat. Your eyes, that drop down the length of his throat as you realign the neck of his t-shirt over his broad shoulders. 
Your eyes: the ones crinkled at the corners as you pick the bracelet back up from your bed and admire it under your bedroom light. Your eyes, landing on his, finally, in a silent plea for help. 
“The best?” you answer, now, extending your wrist to ask him to put it on you. He takes the chain from your fingers and unclasps it, slipping it beneath your hand and holding it in place. 
“I know you are,” he says again, but it’s quieter now as he concentrates on trying to reconnect the two pieces. “But what am I?”
When he successfully fastens your gift onto your arm, he looks up to see your watery eyes still staring down at it. He decides this is the time to reveal part two of the surprise. Pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, he reveals his own wrist to you, and you now see there’s a matching chain hanging off it. A little stone set in the metal. His stone, presumably. You choke out a laugh around your tears, shaking your head. 
“You got us friendship bracelets,” you giggle, holding your hand next to his and admiring them together. Your skin touches and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt around you since…
He nods, breathing a chuckle too. “Yeah,” he says. His heart is pounding. “I guess I did. Is… that okay?”
“I love them,” you insist, leaning forward to affectionately press your lips to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”
Your doorbell sounds downstairs and Vernon’s words die in his throat. Maybe that’s for the best, though; he’s got so much nervous energy rising up inside him and he’s scared it might accidentally force up something he’ll regret saying. You spring off the bed again, fussing in the mirror, and he watches you rush out the bedroom warbling about how you’re not ready for anyone to be here yet. It’s too early. What’s going on? Who is it?
He shifts his legs so both his feet are planted on the floor, letting out a breath he doesn’t remember sucking in. 
I love them. Thank you, you said. 
It’s perfect. 
He groans when he stands up, too, tugging his sleeve back down as he starts to follow after you.
“I know you are,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing your relieved laughter at it just being the FedEx man on your doorstep. It makes him feel warm. Everywhere. “But what am I?”
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Five hours later, Vernon is seeing double. 
He has Seungkwan’s hands massaging the tops of his shoulders and there are two Juns sitting across from him at your dining table. He remembers feeling fine around 9pm, distinctly: like nothing he drank was having any kind of effect on him. Like he could walk home on his hands — like he was invincible. Now, after spending exactly five minutes out in the fresh air, he’s blinking four times for every breath he takes and his friends’ voices keep phasing in and out of focus.
“But what if they’re not?” Vernon stresses for the eighth time, fingers clumsily peeling at the label on his bottle.
“And what if they are?” Jun tries. Again. Also, for the eighth time, because apparently when Vernon gets tipsy, his skull gets really really thick and nothing in the world can penetrate it. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”
Vernon shakes his head, sitting back so heavily that his chair tips and he sends Seungkwan stumbling into the wall behind them. His friend gives up trying to rub the stupid out of him and settles into the chair at Vernon’s side instead. 
“I don’t know-…”
“If you’re about to say you don’t know what you’ll do if it isn’t them, I’m putting you in an Uber and sending you home.” Seungkwan claps his hand down onto Vernon’s knee for good measure. “It’s not even been a day.”
Vernon groans, threading his fingers into his hair and tipping his head back. “It hasn’t, though,” he whines. “What if it’s been like this since… and I just kept ignoring…”
Jun and Seungkwan exchange a look. An exhausted one. They both know Vernon turns into a complete baby when he’s had a drink and can just about manage a trip to the bathroom without somebody holding his hand, but neither of them have seen him like this before. Neither of them want to see him like this ever again.
Hell, neither of them want to be dealing with him like this right now.
“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Jun’s (remarkably) calm voice repeats as he pushes up from his seat and glances towards the doorway. His ears lock onto a voice just beyond it, and in an instant, the older man recognises his chance at an exit. He casts an apologetic glance at Seungkwan, who has resorted to rubbing Vernon’s earlobes to try and get him to stop stressing, and he dips out before either of them can argue. 
On his way, though, he throws in a sly little remark. One that raises Vernon’s– and Seungkwan’s– blood pressure to a level that would get them prescribed a week of strict bed rest.
“Besides – everyone can see the two of you were practically made for each other.”
Vernon whips around to face Seungkwan with shock written into every line of his face. It paints perfect full-signal WiFi creases on his forehead; it makes his jaw hang loose. 
“I– what?” Vernon splutters, shooting a hand to the back of his head. Seungkwan hasn’t taken his eyes off the doorway since Jun slipped through it. Vernon doesn’t notice the fact that his older friend’s full genetic line is currently being cursed out. “What does he mean?”
“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Seungkwan tries, now acutely aware of the fact that Jun has just given Vernon a nudge he should never have. There’s a fine line between bolstering a friend and straight-up causing chaos. This could get messy. Seungkwan doesn’t like messy.
But… It's too late. 
Before Seungkwan can wrangle him back into his seat, Vernon has broken away from the table and is on the hunt for you. Seungkwan follows behind, doing his best to summon Vernon back, but he can’t. He’s on a mission now. And maybe that mission involves giving in to the thing that eats away at his brain when he should be waist-deep in music theory assignments. Maybe that mission is to finally, after two years, know what it feels like to kiss you. He’s going to find you, so help him God. He has to. 
And yes. He does. He finds you, eventually. As soon as he reaches the top of the staircase, there you are. 
Being pressed into the wood of your bedroom door, wrapped up in the arms of some pretentious looking art student in an oversized button-down and baggy, ripped jeans. Your mouth is covered by theirs, your fingers are threaded through those glossy fucking locks, both of you are laughing breathlessly as you drop one hand and it fumbles blindly to reach for the doorknob. 
Vernon spins away, turning his back as he hears the door click. At this exact moment, Seungkwan comes stumbling up the stairs too and plants his forehead into Vernon’s sternum. 
But his good friend’s skull is not the only thing Vernon is struck with, not the only thing knocking the wind out of him. 
Simultaneously, he’s swept up with the sobering realisations that either this guy is your soulmate, or you’re not the same person you were when you were nineteen. 
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It’s eleven o’clock and two years later when he hears your secret knock on his apartment door. 
Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. He only took his noise cancelling headphones off a few minutes ago before he washed up and settled into bed; his head has hardly even had time to make a dent in the pillows. But whichever force is at play, the thing that matters is that he hears you and he knows it’s you, straight away. He doesn’t remember how it started, exactly. He thinks it might have been while he was in his exam-season hermit stage in his first year of university and refused to come to the door unless it was something important. 
You’ve been knocking the same way for years now though, and he slides out of bed with creased brows at how desperate your fist sounds as it pounds against the wood. He pulls on an old t-shirt and perhaps the loosest fitting pair of shorts anyone’s ever owned, at least making himself decent before he answers. He’s still tying the drawstring when he gets to the door.
When he looks through the peep-hole to make sure he’s right, you’re drying your eyes on the back of your sweatshirt sleeve. You’re shivering quite violently, and you’ve got a bag on your shoulder that’s weighing you down on one side. Vernon’s heart sinks. He unbolts the door, pulling it open just as you lift your hand to knock again; your knuckles punch the air between you as your eyes land on him, and your bottom lip wobbles in despair. 
You fall into his chest with a sob. Tears start to soak their way through his shirt until it clings to the skin underneath. 
“Hey,” he soothes you, locking his arms so tight around you that there’s a strong chance they’re the only thing holding you upright. 
“I didn’t— know where else to go—” you choke out, your arm trapped between your chest and his as he rests his head on top of yours and pats your back softly. “I’m s-”
“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, tilting his chin down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here. You can always come to me.”
He holds you until your shakes start to subside, trying to talk you through whatever this is with soft reassurances and gentle shushing sounds. When you pull back from him, Vernon guides you into his apartment, flicking on the lamp in his living room so he can see to settle you down on his couch. He throws a blanket over your legs before he sits down himself, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it between both of his own, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles. You’re still crying, but when you shuffle against the seat to be a little more comfortable and finally turn to face him, he finds his voice long enough to ask you what happened. 
“He kissed— kissed someone else,” you tell him, sniffling and shaking your head. 
His blood reaches boiling point in what must be record time and he knows he accidentally starts to grip your hand tighter, but he can’t stop. 
“He what?”
Vernon knows this guy wasn’t your soulmate. You told him, a few days after your birthday. You said everything was still black and white when you pulled back from the first of — what you spared no detail in explaining was — many, many, many kisses with him that evening. But you didn’t care. Not then, and not for the whole time you’ve been together. 
He asked you about it once. About four months in (when he figured things were starting to get serious), late at night, if it bothered you. Whether you were going to keep seeing him. If you still thought about finding your soulmate. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what your replying message said. 
I mean, sure, I’m curious. But maybe I don’t need to see in colour. I think being in love is enough :)
So… you were in love. 
With someone who wasn’t him. 
He didn’t speak to anyone — not even you — for two whole days after that. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a peak-form George Foreman. He felt like he’d never be able to get rid of the pit that had developed in the depths of his gut. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat, he couldn’t focus: it was the worst he’d ever felt.  And, well… Vernon knew it was immature. He knew he was acting like a child. If he could’ve shaken it off, the way he’s always done with so many of the things in his life that have bothered him, he’d have loved to. But he couldn’t.
Besides. Only about four people noticed his silence, anyway. You weren’t one of them; your boyfriend was keeping you plenty busy.
“He went to a club and got completely wasted and he— he—” you say, squeezing his hand even tighter than he’s holding yours. “But-… he says he-…” Hiccup. “Everything. Straight away — his…”
You don’t need to say it out loud; if anything, he’s a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t figure this out sooner. “His soulmate,” Vernon ruefully finishes for you. He groans the words out, feeling rotten to his core. “I’m so sorry…”
Your shoulders start to shake and he wastes no time in pulling you sideways against him, both his arms locked around you again, just like before. 
“It’s so stupid,” you cry, laughing emptily. His stomach turns; he hates this. Your anguish is an assault on his eardrums, especially when he’s got you so close, but he tries so hard not to flinch, not to move away. You need him, no matter how agonised it makes him feel. “I knew he wasn’t mine, but I thought-…”
Your voice fades away to nothing. You shake your head.
“You thought he was happy the same way you were,” he finishes again. You just nod, sobbing harder. “That's not—… stop saying the way you feel is stupid.”
Vernon doesn’t understand how that loser could ever not have been happy with you. How could he dream about going out in search of something more? Hell, Vernon doesn’t think there’s a soul alive better than you — how could anyone stand to just throw you away?
He wonders briefly if you can hear his heartbeat, thundering in his chest with the rage he feels all the way into his bones. You’ve always told him that you admire how chilled out, how collected he is, but Vernon has never felt less calm in his entire life. It’s only as he acknowledges that he has no right to feel like this, that he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his fever down. You mimic him, trying to do the same, and by the time his pulse starts to settle, you’re back to just sniffling against his shoulder. 
“Stay the night here,” he tells you. It isn’t a suggestion, or really even a request. It’s an order. There’s no room for negotiation. “We’ll go get your things in the morning. I’ll be right there with you.”
You open your mouth to speak, but Vernon gets there before you do. Before you can protest the offers he’s made. Before you can ask him if he’s sure. He knows you, a little too well: he knows these are the words that are going to come out of your mouth next. “I’m with you, okay? Always.”
You sit back from him with a quiet chuckle, wiping your eyes again on your damp sleeve. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” you murmur. “You’re the best— the best thing that ever happened to me.”
He just rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, standing up from the couch. (I know you are, he thinks. This isn’t the time for jokes, though.) He wishes you knew what you mean to him; how, in his eyes, you deserve the world, presented to you on a shining silver platter. Wishes you knew that he’d give it to you if thought he could carry it. 
“Go wash up,” he says, ignoring the ache in his chest at the way your watery lashes flutter when you look up at him. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”
He locates a spare toothbrush from a travelling kit he’s never used and sets a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the heated towel rail, leaving you alone in the bathroom to go about your business. You emerge some fifteen minutes later to find Vernon perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. He can’t help but swallow at the way his clothes fit you. How the steam from your shower clings to your skin, casts a heavenly haze around you. He hopes it isn’t obvious. This is about more than his dumb little crush. 
“Were you asleep?” You ask him, nodding towards his comforter, still pushed back on one side. He turns to glance over his shoulder, following the line of your sight, before he looks back at you and shakes his head. 
“Not even close,” he says. “I’d just got into bed when you got here.”
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Vernon doesn't think you look totally convinced, but he can’t force you to believe him, even if it is the truth. 
It’s unspoken but accepted that you'll sleep in the bed with him; he’s never let you stay on his couch when you spend the night, and you never agree to displacing him even though he always tries to insist he doesn’t mind. You’ve been friends for enough time now that it’ll never be weird to crawl beneath the sheets with him, anyway. At first, he didn’t really like sharing (he’s a bit… particular with how he sleeps, after all), but he got used to your weight on the mattress beside him quite quickly and makes a point to say he always sleeps better with you. 
He hasn’t curled up next to you for the night in over two years. It’s awful, that that’s what he thinks about now as he turns off the lights and you settle down, shuffling under the comforter until he slides in next to you in the dark and you can lay your head on his chest. He knows it’s selfish. He thinks it probably makes him a bad person, too. 
“Do you think—” you start to say, cut off by a long, vocal yawn. Your breath feels so warm through his t-shirt. “If you fall out of love with them… do the colours go away?”
With his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he can’t even see, Vernon feels his heart shatter beneath the soft cushion of your cheek. He’s suddenly grateful he’s still fully clothed, as if the cotton barrier is the only thing stopping you from getting scratched by the splinters beneath his skin. He wonders if you hear it. It would be an easier explanation for why he doesn’t say anything than whatever his mouth could come up with, that’s for sure. 
“I don’t know,” he says after a few seconds too long. The arm wrapped around your shoulders slips down to your waist and he squeezes you. Briefly, he wonders if it can force your broken pieces back together. 
Vernon knows he would never do this to you. He’d never hurt you this way. Out of everyone he’s ever met, he thinks you’re the sweetest, the kindest, the most thoughtful of them all. The last person he’d ever wish a heartbreak upon. He even used to joke that he’d go to war with anyone who dared to try. 
But now he’s seeing it happen? He feels as if he really could. 
“I just hope you never have to find out,” he follows up, blinking back the thoughts that start to bubble away as your breaths slow down. 
He wrapped a band-aid around your finger when you got a papercut once and you asked him, then, if he would kiss it better. 
When you bumped your head in the playground, the same. 
He’d kiss it all better now too, if he could. He’d show you how you deserve to be loved. 
And he doesn’t just think it, anymore; Vernon knows that this makes him a terrible person. 
“I hope you don’t, either,” you mumble back. “... and I hope we find them soon.”
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He’s so proud of you.
Okay, it never took much. He’s been proud of you for every good grade you’ve ever achieved, every doctor's appointment you booked for yourself, every trip to the dentist you stressed over. He’s been proud of you for finishing projects you were struggling with. Proud of you for learning new recipes. For every milestone, personal or professional, it’s the first thing he makes sure to say. 
[ hey, look at u go!!! proud of u :) ]
Now? He’s seen you crawl from rock bottom to the top of the world. It hasn’t been easy. There have been hurdles and barriers and sometimes, sixty foot high walls you’ve had to climb up and over, but you’ve done it. You’re thriving. Every time he looks at you, these days, if you’re not wearing a smile there are at least traces of one in your eyes, on your face, in your voice. Happiness suits you, and he’s so, so proud of you for getting here. 
He knows you’re doing better, because between Christmas and New Year, you asked him if he wanted to come to a party with you. At first, he wasn’t sure; the holidays left his wallet feeling a little light and he’s been on a really good streak of not drinking anything lately, but when you promised that you’d stay sober too, he kind of couldn’t say no. 
[ i just wanna see in the new year with my favourite person ever <3 ]
[ ha. flattery will get u everywhere ]
So here he finds himself, out in the backyard of somebody he’s never met, a can of Coke in one hand and your gloved fingers holding tightly onto the other. You dragged him outside at five minutes to midnight and — though he doesn’t know why — you decided you didn’t want to let go. Vernon certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make you. Your warmth down his left side is settling the slight unease he’s felt all evening while also making him feel tipsier than he’s ever been under the influence of any amount of soju; he thinks maybe this should scare him, but he’s just… so glad he came.
With sixty seconds until the clock strikes twelve, somebody stands up on top of the picnic table in the yard and starts to try and coordinate a countdown. With forty-five, Vernon squeezes your hand, butterflies where his stomach ought to be. With thirty, he takes a long drain of his drink, finishing it as if it’ll give him some courage, maybe, or… he doesn’t know. Zero sugar, zero caffeine — there’s no logic behind his process, just a lot of bubbles and artificially sweetened syrup. All the same, he crushes the can against his thigh and slips it into his pocket to throw away later. That alone relieves a bit of his adrenaline. 
Not enough, but some. 
With ten seconds remaining, the first shout drowns out the white noise in his ears, the chaos of his thoughts. 10. He joins them. So do you. 9. 8. Your voice is the loudest, the most excited sounding. You want this year to be over. You want the rest of your life to begin. 
7. 6. 5.
The crackers are set. Flames dance at the end of the garden on fire lighters, ready to send rockets shooting into the sky. 
Some people here are going to see them as they truly are. Brilliant and vibrant and colourful against the black canvas of the midnight sky. Vernon won’t. Neither will you. But what was it you said to him once?
4. 3.
Maybe I don’t need to see in colour. 
2.
For the first time, he thinks he agrees. The feeling of loving you, even if he never knows green from red, blue from orange? He doesn’t care. He has you. He loves you. That’s enough. 
1.
Happy New Year. 
As if dawn has broken early, the world becomes impossibly bright, pyrotechnics bursting not only over your own heads but everywhere, as far as his eyes can see. After the first few, he permits himself a glance over at your face: there are tears running down it, and his heart stutters, but then he hears you laugh. Brightly, wetly, more resonant than any of the booms and crackles and cheers he can feel all the way down to his toes. 
For whatever reason, Vernon starts laughing with you. 
You pull him closer into a bone-crushing hug and blink your damp lashes against the side of his neck. “Thank you for being here with me,” you say to him, practically shouting to be heard. “I love you so much.”
“I��m always gonna be with you,” he says as you pull back a little. Your arms are still around him. The chain of the bracelet he bought you all those years ago is bitterly cold against the back of his neck. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, all he knows is that they’re resting on the curve of your spine. He thinks he can see something in the way you look at him, so softly and tenderly and yet, in the twitch of your brow… 
Like you’re searching for something that might not be there. 
He knows his gaze moves in a perfect triangle — from your left eye, to your slightly parted, wind-chapped lips, to your right. He knows he stops breathing. He swears you do, too. Something builds — a spark catches, an energy festers, egged on by the curious murmurs of the people around you. 
You could do it, his brain tells him. 
So what if he’s a few minutes late for it to be traditional? Does it really matter? 
But he’s reminded, again, this time with a whizz and a boom and a crackle, that you aren’t his to have this way. His storybook moment fizzles out, the final firework bursting into sparkles overhead. He sees every one of your perfect features brighten in wonder as you tilt your head back to look up at it. Sees it beautifully reflected in your glassy eyes. He has about enough time to commit the image to memory before you clear your throat and finally step away from him, losing all touch for the first time since you came outside. 
One of your friends comes and pulls you into an embrace, before passing you along to someone else, and then someone else again. He loses you in the crowd that rushes to get back in the warm, but he makes no effort to move with them. He just stays out in the dark for a while with his own thoughts for company, shoving his frigid hands into the pockets of his jeans.
He’s happy, though. It’s like you said. 
Being in love is enough.
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“There’s just one more thing,” you say as the waitress returns with your bank card and a receipt. Vernon slides you a look as he stands, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair he’s been sitting in. 
He shakes his head at you. “Whatever it is, it better not be edible,” he laughs. “I think this is the most full I’ve ever been.”
In other words, you’ve done enough already. Stop spending money on me. Please. Thankfully, your final surprise is in-keeping with his unspoken rule. 
His birthday rolled around way too quickly. The start of the year has been so chaotically busy; you swear, you’ve hardly seen him since he dropped you off home after the party. You moved out of your parents’ house for the second time a few weeks ago and settling in, unpacking boxes, sorting through clothes and belongings and trinkets has taken you much longer than you care to admit. You’ve been busy at work, too. So has he. Your social calendars have barely lined up at all. 
But you were determined to make plenty of time for him on his birthday. 
To Vernon, this has always just been another day. He’s never cared too much about big celebrations: as long as he can spend some time with people he cares about, he’s happy, and this year he’s managed exactly that. He saw his family this morning, had some friends drop by his apartment later in the day, and now, he’s with you. 
You’ve never been great at the laid-back approach, though. Not with him. How could you be, when he does so much for you, always without even batting an eye? When he deserves to be doted on, and adored, and thoroughly spoiled? It’s the same every year. You make a fuss, he playfully scolds you for it; you and he are creatures of habit. It’ll probably never change. 
This year, you invited him to your new place to open the gifts you’d bought him: the new speaker he kept saying he couldn’t justify buying, a record he looked at in the store a few months ago but never bought, a sweatshirt to replace the one you stole off him on New Years Eve. Some candies he likes. Then, after he finally stopped pouting and sighing that you really didn’t need to go to all this effort, you took him out for dinner, making a reservation for two at his favourite restaurant. 
The pouting continued. 
Only up until your appetisers came out, though. The moment your food was placed down in front of you, his eyes doubled in size and his lips became a little too busy to stay pursed. Your own dinner almost went cold with how fondly you sat and watched him. This year, you even spared Vernon the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing at the side of your table. 
All right, you have an ulterior motive, but… it’s the thought that counts, right? 
He holds the door open for you now as you thank the waitress who served you one last time and without him lowering his arm, you step into place beneath it. Tucked up into Vernon’s side, you’re as happy as you’ve ever been. Nervous, too, but… you have a good feeling. 
“Where to?” He asks as you fall into step together. 
“This way.”
You emerge from the shelter of the canopy outside the restaurant’s front door and immediately feel the cool tickle of a snowflake landing on your cheek. They started to fall while you were eating and Vernon couldn’t stop watching through the window, small specks that grew over the hour into big clumps that tumbled towards the ground. He’s always loved the snow, and there’s no real destination for this gift, anyway. You guide him to the left and watch as peace takes its rightful home on his beautiful features. 
“We’ve walked in a perfect square three times now,” Vernon says after a little while of meandering about in the dark, making comfortable small talk and laughing as the champagne bubbles in your stomachs continue to fizz away. “Where are we supposed to be going?”
You wondered how long it was going to take him to notice, or even if he was going to realise at all. Looking up and down the street you’re on, you stop in your tracks, standing beneath the same flickering street lamp that you’ve passed twice already. Your footprints trail both behind and in front of you, neither quite covered yet by the snowfall. You break into a laugh when you notice that the convenience store on your left has closed since the last time you came down this road. 
“I can get a map open, if…” Vernon starts, reaching into his pocket. You stop him, stepping out from under his arm and wrapping your hand around his wrist instead.
“I might’ve told a little white lie,” you confess, 
He halts with his phone only half pulled out, pushing it into his hip for fear of it falling if either of you let go. “What do you mean?” He asks. 
You know he’s probably thinking back to your earlier conversations, trying to figure out which part exactly is the mistruth you’re now admitting to. But whether he gets there on his own or not, he waits for you to answer. 
“I had it with me this whole time,” you explain, readjusting your hold on his covered forearm. His eyes dart downwards, looking at the site of contact, but he quickly lifts them back up to your face. “I was just… waiting for… ”
“What are you talking about?” Vernon asks. 
“Close your eyes.”
You know.
Unfortunately for your best friend, as hush-hush as he’s managed to be all this time, the same can’t be said for the other person he entrusts all his secrets to. A few weeks ago, when you’d called Seungkwan to coordinate timings for Vernon’s birthday plans, he’d accidentally let something slip. It was your suggestion of taking Vernon to dinner that did the trick. 
“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Seungkwan had gushed. You could hear the breadth of his smile down the phone and felt yourself growing hot at the compliment.
“You really think so?”
“Pfft. You could take him to the Eiffel Tower or to a drive-through KFC, and he’d still have hearts in his eyes – because it’s you.”
Of course, he attempted to do some damage control immediately after. Make out that he meant it in strictly platonic terms. But once the idea planted itself in your head, it sort of… made sense. You mulled it over for a couple of days but when you finally asked Seungkwan, deathly serious, if he really thought you stood a chance with Vernon?
He practically screamed ‘yes’ down the phone. 
“The last time you asked me to do this, you killed me at laser-tag,” Vernon says, narrowing his eyes. He surely doesn’t think you’re hiding a plastic gun underneath the coat he literally just watched you don, but he doesn’t do as you ask and you suck your front teeth at him.
“Luckily for you, I left all my weapons at home,” you counter. “Come on, please. Just… trust me.”
“Said that last time, too,” he snickers. But, to his merit, he finally does it. He takes in a breath and follows your instruction. “I swear to God…”
Selfishly, you take a moment to bask in how handsome he really is. His eyes twitch underneath his lids and snowflakes cling to his lashes, moving with them. It’s in his hair, too. On his shoulders. Melting on his cheeks, leaving small wet spots on his face. One lands perfectly on the tip of his nose. You would immortalise this moment, if you could.
It made sense, when you found out, because thinking back? Nobody has ever loved you how Vernon does. He shows it in so many ways – he sends you the songs that he hears and thinks you’ll like, the pretty photographs that he takes when he’s away for work, some variant of a ‘good morning’ text, almost every day. He massages your shoulders, lets you fall asleep on his lap, follows you around like an obedient puppy when you have errands to run just so you don’t have to do them on your own. 
He tries, and often fails, to cook you breakfast when you stay over. He brings you coffees, or lunch. He looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars. People have teased for years that you could be psychically connected. That you were cosmically united. That it was fate for Vernon to move into the house down the street from you when you were nine. To be the only other child your age on the block. 
Two people, perfect for one another, lives intertwined eternally by fate. Or, in other words…
“Are you…?” He asks, breaking the quiet that has only been filled with your cloud-forming breaths. 
“Give me a second,” you breathe. There’s no doubt in your mind.
One. 
You lean forward to kiss him softly, free hand settling against the side of his neck. In the February chill, Vernon freezes, no part of his body reacting to you except for his lips. Though they twitch in a gasp, they press back against yours as if he isn’t even thinking about doing it. As if it’s instinctual. As if he was always supposed to kiss you – as if he’s your…
There it all is, when you finally pull away.
Brown eyes, framed by fluttering lashes that untangle from one another to finally see you, too. Brown, you know, because when you asked your mother to tell you about Vernon’s colours when you were younger, that was the only one she told you, saying everything else might change when he got older. Warm, brown eyes. Glistening with every blink, blink, blink of the bulb above you. Pupils slowly dilating, drowning the colours out of view. You see his lids shoot wide as he realises, as he glances left and right, as he takes this new world in for the first time, too. 
“I knew it,” you say on a stuttered breath, so overwhelmed you could cry. “My soulmate.”
A brilliant smile threatens to split Vernon’s features in two as he cups your cheeks and pulls you back to him, kissing you again, and again, and again. 
“I know you are,” he says against your lips, his bare thumbs pink and cold as they press into your skin. And, before you can kiss him quiet – “but what ‘m I?”
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thank u so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3
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cherryredcheol · 7 days
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quiet time
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tldr: what exactly is he staring at? a/n: this is an ode to my own headphones. thank you for everything you do. (none of this would exist without you)
you think the best thing vernon ever did for your relationship was buy you your own pair of noise-canceling headphones. not only was it cute that you two had a subtle way of matching, but the gift was the catalyst for what you two called “quiet time”. 
you knew vernon needed his alone time. knew he needed time with his headphones on and music blasting in his ears, in his own world. you were happy to give him the space and do your own thing. when you opened the headphones he had given you, you weren't really sure you’d use them, perfectly happy with your small earbuds. the large headset seemed excessive. however, you quickly got the appeal after using them for the first time.
now every time you two hung out, you’d have quiet time. each doing your own thing, existing in the same space but not interacting with each other. hair getting flatter on both your heads as the band of the headphones pressed down. 
today you were sat on opposite ends of the couch, several feet of space between you both. you were absorbed in a game on your phone. he couldn’t help but stare at you, the music blasting into his own ears becoming background noise as he focused on you. he loved seeing you in those headphones, pleased to no end when he sees how well you use them. when he bought you the exact same pair that he had, he was nervous they would get mixed up but that fear was put to bed when you promptly decorated yours with little stickers, saying they needed to be “cuter” and as he stares at those stickers now, he can confirm you’re cute, but it might not be the headphone’s doing. 
you could feel vernon’s gaze on you, you’d felt it for minutes now. no longer able to stand it, you turned your head to him, pulling the headphones down to rest around the back of your neck. 
“why are you staring at me like that?” 
vernon pulled his own headphones down, unphased, “what?” 
you huffed, “why are you staring at me so intensely? it's creeping me out.” 
he smiled easily, “i just love you so much, bug.” 
you rolled your eyes, pulling the headphones back up, “well knock it off, you’re distracting me from my game.”
vernon just continued to stare, not missing the soft blush on your cheeks and little smile tugging on your lips as you tried to focus on the small screen in your hands. unsuccessful, you turned your head again pushing the headphones just off the ear closest to vernon, "for real stop staring. i need to beat this level before i can even think about making dinner so if you want to eat soon, you’ll look away.” 
laughing, vernon crawled closer to you, closing the distance between you two on the couch. wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he pulled you closer and whispered in your exposed ear, “i’ll wait forever for dinner if it means i can keep looking at you.” 
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seungcheorry · 1 month
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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.
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silv3rswirls · 3 months
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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!
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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.
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wheeboo · 6 months
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10:18pm | hansol vernon chwe
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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
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"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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taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1
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thepixelelf · 1 year
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and the universe said,
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interlude i
genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery relationship(s): ot13 x reader chapter warnings: none! note: not sorry for the amount of cats this fic will have <3
When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren’t – and that’s before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.
series masterlist
prev ⭒ interlude i ⭒ next
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ahlovelightaflame · 8 months
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Not the Usual Customer ~ *Hansol Vernon Chwe*
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Summary: Ever since his sister started dating Junhui, Vernon has been having a heck of a time with all the PDA and romance. That is why he decided to swear off all romance, as he doesn’t want to be seen as dumb in love. But a runaway supermodel might just have the answers he need to solve his love life. Of course, he still has to save her first.
Pairing: Hansol Vernon Chwe X Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluffyish Oneshot
Word Count: 3054
Warning: Swearing, violence, very very very vague and very very very brief mention of NSFW content
Mafia Masterlist​
“Stupid Joshua.” Vernon grumbled under his breath as he restocked the back room of the Cafe. “Stupid Junhui. Stupid sister for going out with Junhui. Stupid Minghao for helping stupid Joshua get stupid Junhui together with my stupid sister. Stupid mafia that I just had to be apart of-”
“You didn’t have to be a part of anything, you know.” A voice called out to him from the door leading to the cafe.
He paid her no mind. “Oh go back to your boyfriend, traitor.”
His sister chuckled. “Nah, I think I spend too much time with him anyways. He’s starting to get boring.”
“So does that mean you’re going to dump him?”
Again, she laughed. “Not yet. He can redeem himself.”
Vernon scoffed. “Are you just here to gloat? Because if you are, I’m not in the mood.”
“Sorry, sorry. That’s my fault.” She shook her head before continuing. “I came here to tell you you have a customer and he’s starting to get impatient.”
He rolled his eyes. “Im busy.”
“Too busy for your bestie for the restie?” His sister teased, poking his shoulder playfully.
Ignoring her childish comment, Vernon set down the box he was unloading and slid on his apron. After making sure his sister was finishing up the inventory, he went to the front. He chuckled at the sour face awaiting for him.
“What am I? Chopped liver? It sure took you long enough to come and see me.” Seungkwan snapped jokingly.
Vernon shook his head, unable to stop himself from chuckling. “Hello Seungkwan. How are you?”
“Peachy.” He waved off his question before leaning in closer. “How’s the monster Joshua created?”
Within an instant, his mood plummeted. He folded his arms over his chest before answering him. “Horrible as all monsters that Joshua creates are.”
Seungkwan shook his head, tsking. “What a shame. You’d think your sister was smarter than to fall for Wen Junhui.”
“She obviously isn’t.” He spat.
“But what about you? Surely you know of someone to get back at your sister with.” Seungkwan prodded. “Like maybe her best friend or someone like that.”
Vernon gave him an unamused glare. “Absolutely not. If I want to get revenge on my sister, it’s not going to be something as petty as dating one of her friends. If anything, I’ve learned that I never want to date anyone ever.”
“Ever?” Seungkwan’s eyes widened at his friend’s statement. “Okay, it’s not that serious. Look, your sister is just dating Junhui. That doesn’t mean she’s going to marry him-”
“She might!” Vernon interjected.
“Even so!” He exclaimed. “Just because your sister is dating someone you once considered a friend, doesn’t mean you need to swear off romance your whole life. That’s what crazy people do. And even if you’re not all there upstairs, you’re not completely psychotic.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’ve seen what love does to people. With stupid Junhui and my stupid sister. With stupid Minghao going crazy over the codes his girlfriend sends him. With stupid Joshua feeling guilty over making his girlfriend a dirty cop. With stupid Seungcheol and the boss almost turning out pregnant. People become stupid when they’re in love and that is something I don’t want to have happen to me.”
Shaking his head, Seungkwan let out a puff of air. “Yeah, you lost it. You’ve really gone around the bend.”
Vernon rolled his eyes. “If all you’re going to do is insult me, you can go back to the manor now. Also, tell Jihoon I won’t be coming in tonight. I’m going to stay around here and help with the dinner rush.”
“You guys have a dinner rush?”
“It’s open mic night.” He spat, although there wasn’t any maliciousness in her voice. “Of course we’ll have a dinner rush tonight.”
“Ooo, you think I can crash it? I can be your MC for each event.” Seungkwan begged, clasping his hands in front of him to emphasize his point.
Vernon again couldn’t help but chuckle. “You make a good case, but no. Now, if you could get Seokmin or Jihoon to come, that would be fantastic.”
“You wound me!” Seungkwan slapped his chest where his heart was located. “You just drove a dagger into my stomach and twisted.”
“Yeah, yeah, drama king.” He rolled his eyes. “Fine, you can MC. But only for tonight, got it?”
He saluted his friend. “You got it, boss man.”
“Please. I’m nothing like spineless Cheol who can’t even stand up against the real boss.”
“You got him there.” Standing up, he nodded to him. “See you tonight. I’ll tell Jihoon you won’t be here tonight and see if he’ll come along with me.”
“Make sure you ask Seokmin too!” He added as the bell to the front door rang.
“Fine, fine, Seokmin can come too. I’ll see you soon enough!”
And with that, the door closed and his friend was gone. Vernon scrubbed his face with his hands as he took in a deep breath. He knew what Seungkwan said was right; he was being a little over dramatic. But he was also being completely serious. He wasn’t about to let some person waltz right into his life and change everything about it. Love shouldn’t be that easy; nothing should be that easy. Maybe one day, he might find someone he’d like to share his life with forever, but he was far too young to be worrying about that. Instead, he’d worry about helping his parents with the Café and doing what Jihoon asked him to do in the gang.
However his life completely changed later that night.
It was about an hour before open mic night started when the front door all but slammed open. Vernon was the only in the Café when the door opened. His parents were out getting dinner and his sister was out with Junhui. There was a little scuffle earlier about who was going to hold down the fort. It was Vernon who decided to be the bigger man and let his sister go out with Junhui, which prompted his mother to vow that she was going to bring him food even if he assured her he was fine here.
He was actually eating a sandwich when the door burst open and someone rushed to the counter before gracefully hopping over it. All he could do was blink in shock at the immensely attractive woman shaking like a leaf on a twig. When she finally noticed he was there, she held her heavy duty flashlight in her hands tighter.
“Please tell me I didn’t walk into a trap.” She mumbled, her voice shaking.
Vernon shook his head. “I-I don’t think so. Um, who are you?”
She sighed. “You don’t know who Davide Castillo is, do you?”
Of course he knew who Davide Castillo was. He was an enemy of the Seventeen mafia and he shouldn’t be anywhere near here. They had kicked him out a long time ago; basically banished him to the big city not too far from here. So what was he doing in their little bustling metropolis?
He shook his head. “The name doesn’t ring a bell.”
Vernon could see a wave of relief wash over her. Her shoulders sagged and she dropped the flashlight into her lap. “Oh thank the stars above.”
“So who are you?” He asked again.
“Oh, I’m so, so, so sorry.” She held out her hand from where she sat. “I’m Y/n L/n. I’m sure that name rings a bell.”
Of course he knew who Y/n L/n is. She’s a burgeoning model in the high fashion scene. She had the best proportions and facial structure according to all these “model experts”. Not only that, but everyone commented about how sweet and thoughtful she was with everyone she worked with. Sure, anyone from the mafia wanted to meet her, even Vernon did, but that didn’t mean he wanted to meet her under these circumstances.
“Yeah.” He nodded, wiping his bottom lip with the back of his thumb. “Yeah, I know who you are.”
She smiled softly. “Yeah. Sorry for barging in here while you’re on break. I just didn’t know where to turn to hide.”
“Why are you hiding from this Castillo guy?” He had some guesses but she would be able to tell him the truth.
Her demeanor changed and she averted her eyes. “Okay, but you have to promise not to judge me alright?” When he nodded, she continued, “I was out with some girlfriends in the city, just going clubbing before I headed out for a fashion show out of town. This guy, Castillo, shows up and starts hitting on me. I know the way I’m dressed isn’t conservative by any means, but it’s not skimpy either. Nevertheless he’s trying to get me to follow him to his place for a good time, but I kept telling him no. Then he starts getting physical and me and my friends bail. I was driving to the airport when I saw his car behind me. Turns out he’s following me, so I decided to stop here and he got out when I got out and so I ran in here and I don’t think he saw me duck inside so can I just lay low here for awhile, please?”
Now, Vernon knew who this Castillo is and he also knew what his parents thought of him being in the mafia. If he gave any of that a second thought, he would have turned her away. But her story tugged at his heartstrings. He nodded and she sighed, another wave of relief washing over her.
“Do you want me to make you something to eat while you wait? I mean, our open mic night starts in less than an hour, so we can sneak you out of here during that.” He explains, already formulating a plan to contact Chan to give you an escort out of town and to your next location.
“Oh.” If he didn’t know any better, she sounded disappointed. “I don’t mean to be a burden, but an open mic night sounds fun. Is it possible I could stay and watch a little? Unless you think it won’t be safe for me.”
His logical side was telling him not to get involved and chuck her out as soon as possible. But his illogical side was telling him to let her stay, even for a little bit. If Seungkwan was true to his word, Jihoon would be here and he likes testing out his new music on small crowds, like an open mic night. Anyone who was anyone should hear the great Lee Jihoon’s music at least once in their lives.
Without thinking, he nodded. “Sure, but only for a little bit.”
She nodded, her chipper smile returning and he could feel his heart skip more than one beat. “Thank you so much! I promise I won’t get in the way or anything!”
“It’s fine, really. Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?” He asked, trying to ignore the warmth he was feeling in the tips of his ears.
“Ah well, if it’s not too much trouble, maybe a sandwich?” She asked innocently with a small chuckle.
“Really? I thought supermodels only had water and air for meals.” As soon as those words left his mouth, he instantly tried to take them back. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive and-”
She shook her head, laughing harder. “No, I get it! Really! But unlike other models, I know how to diet and exercise while also keeping a healthy body weight that is attainable for girls everywhere.”
He smiled at her words. “That’s pretty amazing of you.”
“Thank you.” She replied, her bright smile never leaving her face which only caused the butterflies in his stomach to swarm around his abdomen.
The two of them talked until it was time for open mic night. Vernon managed to get ahold of Chan to get an escort available for her on the way out of town. He also introduced her to his parents and sister, though he kept Castillo out of it and instead made up a story about how she got the wrong time for open mic night which she easily went along with. All three took a liking to her, but his sister knew he was lying and he ended up telling her the truth. Nevertheless, she found to keep the secret from their parents, as payment for letting her see Junhui, and she would also help sneak her out of the café when Chan came to pick her up.
Open mic night started not much later and true to his word, Seungkwan secured both Seokmin and Jihoon for the event. Junhui of course showed up as well to canoodle with his sister in the back, which made him want to throw up in his mouth. Minghao was there, but he said it was because his “girlfriend” said she wanted to meet him there. Even Joshua was casting forlorn glances to his girlfriend from across the café while she wasn’t looking, which she returned when he wasn’t looking as well. All in all, it appeared to be a night of romance for everyone.
And then the unthinkable happened.
Halfway through one of Jihoon’s new songs, the door opened and a burly man walked in. Both Vernon and Y/n knew exactly who it was: Davide Castillo. As soon as Y/n saw him, she turned to Vernon with fearful eyes and gripped his hand tight. He didn’t even realize he was doing it at the moment, but his thumb stroked her knuckles to reassure her. He made eye contact with Joshua, Seungkwan, Minghao, and Chan and they all nodded at him, knowing that he was there and he was looking for someone. Joshua had to psyche himself up to do it, but he managed to work up the nerve to make his way over to his girlfriend and whisper in her ear about Castillo.
However, while he was still trying to work up the nerve, Castillo saw Y/n. He was by her side in a flash and Vernon for once found himself paralyzed to the floor as he watched him grab her wrist in a deathgrip.
“Found you, little flower.” He sneered, causing her to shake in fear.
“Please, let me go. I said I was sorry! I can give you all the money you desire if you would please just leave me alone.” Her voice was trembling and tears started to slip down her cheeks.
He yanked her closer and still Vernon couldn’t move. “I don’t think you have enough money. Besides, I desire something far more intimate than cash.”
She yelped in pain. “Please! You’re hurting me.”
Those were the words that undid the spell. Vernon deftly hopped over the counter behind Castillo before tapping him on the back. When he turned around, he gave him a right hook to the jaw. It didn’t do much other than cause his head to whip to the side and his grip left Y/n’s wrist. As soon as she was free, she scurried to the other side of the counter and sought after his sister and Junhui for help. Castillo was about to punch him, when Joshua’s girlfriend basically karate chopped him in the neck from behind, making him go down in a heap.
“One of the first things they teach you in self defense class.” She explained before slapping a pair of cuffs on him.
“God, you’re so hot.” Vernon heard Joshua mumble and both of them started blushing.
Nodding at Vernon, she and Joshua hefted up to his feet, throwing an arm over their necks. “I’ll take him down to the station and process him. Y/n L/n is safe now.”
He turned to her and she smiled at him gratefully. She made her way around the counter again before enveloping him in the warmest and sincerest hugs ever. He almost melted into a puddle at her feet before he wrapped his arms around her as well. And not that he was actively trying to, he caught a whiff of her perfume and was determined to dedicate it to memory, it smelled that sweet.
“Thank you. Thank you for everything. I can’t thank you enough! How can I ever repay you?” She rambled in his ear.
“I just wanted to help.” He answered before internally cursing himself out for how stupid he sounded.
She chuckled. “Still, thank you. You are the sweetest, most thoughtful person I know, Vernon.”
And with that, she kissed him on the cheek.
“Ahem.” Chan cleared his throat before Vernon could do or say anything. “I think now is a good time as any to give Miss. L/n an escort to her next destination.”
Her face fell. “Oh, right. Right, I have a lot of things to do and I’m sure my manager, my parents, and my friends are worried about me. I should go.”
He didn’t want her to go, not right now. They were really hitting it off and she seemed to be enjoying herself here. He wanted to keep talking to her and hearing all of her amazing stories. He wanted to keep smelling her perfume. He wanted her to hold him in a hug again and never let go.
But all good things must come to an end and he knew it better than anyone.
With a deep sigh, he said, “Take care and if you ever need saving again, well, you know where to find me.”
Snatching a napkin, she scribbled a quick note before handing it to me. “And if you ever want to chat again, give me a call or shoot me a text sometime, okay?”
His stomach was doing somersaults and his heart was in his throat as he took the nap. “Will do.”
“I can escort you out, Y/n.” Chan said before nodding at Vernon and leading the way out of the Café.
As Vernon watched them go, he didn’t see Seungkwan come up to him before he felt him touch his cheek. He laughed as he showed him a magenta color, the same color as Y/n’s lipstick, making Vernon blush knowing he had a lipstick stain on his cheek.
“So what did you say about swearing off romance forever?”
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mingtinys · 7 days
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what dating seventeen feels like
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pairing : seventeen x gn!reader
headcanons , fluff , misc
warnings : none
word count : 1.1 k
requested ? no
a/n: just a small collection of the things i love in life that i associate with seventeen
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choi seungcheol
falling asleep on the couch and waking up in bed. chocolate-covered strawberries. the kind of love found in romcoms. expensive dinner dates and champagne.
cologne that lingers on your clothes and bed sheets. tight, bone-crushing, hugs. his hand almost always under the hem of your shirt, skin to skin (it grounds him). him letting you win when you play wrestle. cute aggression victim.
having a rock to hold on to amidst a raging current.
yoon jeonghan
diving under a crashing wave to find calm, gentle, water. rollercoasters with big drops. feathers. lavender fields. leaving the theater and realizing night has fallen.
always saying the same thing at the same time (it scares seokmin). naps on the couch. sending each other pictures of weird-looking animals with the caption "you" or "us." partners in crime. braiding his hair.
having not only a boyfriend but a best friend in jeonghan.
joshua hong
warm blankets, fresh from the dryer. pancakes and orange juice in the morning. raw honey. the scent of freshly baked bread. scented candles and wax melts.
lives up to the gentleman title. opens doors, bides by the sidewalk rule, lends you his jacket, etc. acts! of! service!! fighting over who pays the bill (he's actually ambushed your waiter to pay before you can even see the check). domestic, mundane, slice-of-life type of love.
a honeymoon phase that never ends.
wen junhui
walking down empty streets without a care in the world. morning cartoons. clingy cats. ice cream for dinner. frozen pizza with red wine. airport liminal space hours.
taking pictures of sunsets to send to each other. doodling on his hand. staying up until 3am accidentally. back hugs galore. resting his chin atop your head. him getting as close as possible when showing him something on your phone (i'm talking cheek smooshed up against yours). sleepy jun asking for kisses every morning.
living life in the moment because you know the future can wait for you two.
kwon soonyoung
energetic snow days. sledding, snowball fights, building snowmen. energy drinks and all-nighters. watermelon sugar. summer bonfires. the ambiance of muffled music through club bathrooms.
zoo dates. always wins you the biggest prizes at carnivals. his favorite place to nap is your lap. sweaty post-dance practice hugs. he gets pouty if you start a tv show without him. baking brownies at 3am. talks about you non-stop to anyone who will (or won't) listen.
excitement that isn't momentary or overwhelming. excitement that makes life meaningful.
jeon wonwoo
tulips blooming in the spring. waxing gibbous moons. amethyst. resting after a long, busy day. the scent of old, yellowed books. rhythmic clicking of a keyboard. warm, smooth, riverbank stones.
re-adjusting his glasses for him after every kiss. let's you design his character's outfits in video games. tells you about the book he's reading like it's gossip. he's always taking candid photos of you. quiet mornings. elderly couples who see you two are reminded of how they fell in love.
defining love not by how much it's said, but by how it's felt.
lee jihoon
thunderstorms that lull you to sleep. shiny, red guitars coming to life with smooth melodies. the crackle of a fire. rosemary. empty highways at night. lightning that strikes twice.
morning coffee dates at home. napping on his studio sofa while he works. quality! time! absolutely spoils you every chance he gets. pretends to act all cool when you catch him staring. writing songs for you. his hand routinely finds your knee when he's anxious. he prefers intimate and private acts of affection to the alternative.
cherishing all the little things that make your relationship important.
lee seokmin
wishing on dandelions. blue skies. morning dew on grass. golden hour. that burning sensation you get in your lungs when laughing too hard. iced lattes.
always asking permission to kiss you. so, so attentive. falling asleep on facetime. pillow forts. lots, and lots, and lots of nose kisses. him never wanting to leave you in the morning. "five more minutes" type of guy. his favorite feeling in the world is making you laugh.
finally knowing what it means to love someone so much you'd give the world for them.
kim mingyu
sleeping by a window with the sun warming your skin. hearing your favorite song on the radio. silky white sheets. first date jitters. first love. receiving a bouquet of roses.
admires you so, so, much. talks about you 24/7, much to his members' annoyance. (jk, they love you, they just like to tease him about it). literally a sponge the way he starts picking up your habits and slang. he's physically incapable of rejecting your puppy-dog eyes. likes to lay sprawled out on top of you. he'll often seek you out if he needs a little extra support.
the feeling that comes with knowing you've found "the one."
xu minghao
the autumn leaves changing. winter constellations. a solar eclipse. the quiet of a house before everyone wakes. those cozy granny-square blankets. white wine. laughing at scary movies.
wine and painting nights. him always making two cups of tea. art museum dates. swaying together to music in the kitchen. him secretly being a sucker for your doting. has your mannerisms memorized and prides himself on it. somehow always knows what to say when you're feeling down.
growing, learning, and experiencing life alongside each other.
boo seungkwan
warm, summer air. mystery flavored lollipops that somehow taste like every flavor all at once. rosy red cheeks.
teasing each other and inside jokes. nicknames like loser, stupid-head, idiot etc. (affectionate). hours long gossip sessions. kisses that taste of coffee and tangerine chapstick. stars in his eyes whenever you're doing literally anything. having his undivided attention.
resident happy pill and mood-maker seungkwan knowing he can let his mask fall around you without judgement.
hansol vernon chwe
watching city lights blur past in the passenger seat of a car at night. cereal at 1am. falling asleep while watching tv. poorly handmade, yet meaningful gifts. assorted candies. buying road trip snacks.
communicating with a single look. ice cream dates in the middle of winter. speaking purely in movie and tiktok references. late-night conversations that take a weird turn. (you've once debated if aliens would like pineapple on pizza). pretending not to notice how shy he gets when initiating physical affection.
loving the strange, bad, and hidden parts of each other as much as the good.
lee chan
the comforting buzz and motion of a subway at night. toothy smiles. watching reruns of your favorite childhood show. surprise parties. the first snow of the new year. concert lights.
driving at 2am, singing at the top of your lungs. random dance parties in the living room. getting noise complaints and giggling about it. pillow fights and board games, competitive, yet both trying to let the other win cause it'll make them happy. asking him to open jars. him getting exceptionally giddy to open said jars. (you're completely capable, but know he likes to feel needed).
making each other's inner child feel safe.
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