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#Vernon Chwe fluff
miraclewoozi · 4 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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mingtinys · 2 months
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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
865 notes · View notes
harufluff · 1 year
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imagine watching power puff girls with vernon. he’s just laying down on the bed and you're sitting up and dancing to the intro nostalgically.
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banghyunchanji · 2 years
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Imagine when someone asks if Vernon plans on purposing to you anytime soon since he and you have been together since high school and you are about graduate college while he is pursuing his music with his members
ALL GIFS BELONG TO RIGHTFUL OWNERS
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kpopficsworld · 1 year
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who is your bias in seventeen???
probably for each unit vernon, jeonghan, and minghao :)
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babyleostuff · 3 months
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when you call them your husband | ot13
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❥ seungcheol 
goes through five stages of a mental breakdown, because what did you just call him??? if you ever called him your husband in front of people, cheol would turn into a stuttering mess with cheeks as red as a tomato. if you did it when you were by yourselves he’d start whining like a bitch, getting shy as hell, because why are you messing with his heart like that? on rare days, though, he’d embrace the husband figure and start calling you “wife” and make you shy
❥ jeonghan 
so smug - no one would be able to wipe that studpid ass smirk off of his face. it does mess with him a bit, though, because come on - calling him your husband??? but he’d try his best to act unaffected, because it’s jeonghan, and he needs to be cool :))) (i’m going to repeat this so many times throughout this headcanon, but all of them would start to freak out a bit thinking about a day when this won’t be a joke anymore, hannie included)
❥ joshua 
is he really surprised when you call him your husband? not really. he knows he’s a husband material, and you often make jokes about him being your husband anyways. that doesn’t mean he isn’t freaking about it on the inside, though, because no matter how many times you call him that as a silly little joke, it still makes him so incredibly happy that one day, he’ll really be your husband, and you won’t be calling him that as a joke anymore
❥ jun 
one of the “turns into a shy, blushy, and a stuttering mess” squad. he’d malfunction at first, point at himself, and melt into a puddle of fluff, and love. one - how dare you call him your literal husband as a joke??? second - give him all the kisses, and hugs, because his first instincts is to run away, and break out in tears from all the love. he doesn’t really know what to do with himself after you say that word, but you can be sure it’ll be in his head for the rest of the day 
❥ hoshi 
soonyoung would be confused for a second, because “wait, are you talking about me?” and when he’d finally understand that, yes - you were talking about him (because who else would you be talking about), he’d get so smiley and giggly and shy, and just turn into the cutest bean. he’d immediately cling to you, wrapping his arms around you and trapping you in a warm hug, giggling like a maniac
❥ wonwoo 
cue shy wonwoo with his lil cat smile. he can’t help the butterflies fluttering in his tummy, and as much as he’d want to tease you for calling him your husband, he’d be too shy to actually do it. you calling him that would make him so happy for some reason, even though he knows that you mainly do it as a prank or a joke to mess with him. don’t do it in front of people, though, or he’ll run away
❥ woozi 
“anything for you, baby.” woozi always indulges in all of your silly antics and jokes, and this time it’d be no different. he’d try to act as unaffected as he could, but his acting skills are not always the best, so you’d still be able to catch a glimpse of a small smile and blushy cheeks. he isn't the type to think about marriage, kids, and your domestic future together, he prefers to focus on what you have now, but hearing that word coming from you, would make his heart flutter a bit faster
❥ dk 
“yes, i am.” smiles cutely at you, and gives you a bone crushing hug, while freaking the fuck out on the inside. he won’t comment on it too much in the moment, but the way he’d be extra clingy throughout the day, giving you ten times more kisses, and hugs, and pouts, and any physical affection. the thought of becoming your husband some day is so??? because it will happen someday, and that’s kind of crazy
❥ mingyu 
cue mingoo giggles, because that man would not be able to behave himself after hearing the word husband from you. will whine, smile, laugh, hug you, pick you up and spin you around like a lovesick teenager, and when he finally calms down, he’d give you the biggest smooch. even though you had marriage talks plenty of times before - you both knew you’d get married some time in the feature, hearing it from you - saying it so casually, messed with his heart so much 
❥ minghao 
as someone who has mentioned a couple of times before that he wants to get married, hearing the word “husband” coming from you would make him so so happy and giddy, to the point where he’d just stand there with a lovesick smile on his face, and the urge to hug and kiss the life out of you (he wouldn’t though, he has to keep his composure) (but don’t worry, he’d kiss your forehead and tell you how much he loves you) (all with an adorable blush covering his cheeks)
❥ seungkwan 
turns into a shy and blushy mess. seungkwan’s first instinct is to hide his face in his hands or your neck, so you wouldn’t see the effect that the word had on him (even though you could clearly see how it affected him). then he’d probably proceed to yell at you (lovingly) for making such mean jokes (he wants to be your husband now, boyfriend is not enough)
❥ vernon 
at first he would think that he had misheard you, so you’d have to repeat the word two or three more times, because why would you ever call him your husband? and when you’d clarify that, yes - you did say the word “husband”, and yes - it was directed to him, vernon would just stare at you with big eyes but no thoughts. you’d laugh at him immediately, because the lack of his reaction was even funnier than if he’d react. then he’d say “thank you” and proceed with the rest of his day with the word “husband” floating around his head
❥ chan 
leechan.exe has stopped working. looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes, pointing at himself, as if he was asking if you were really talking about him. it’s so crazy to him that you’d call him that even as a joke, because hearing the word “husband” coming from you is??? hello??? and the fact that someday he’ll really be your husband??? you can expect chan to be a bit more clingy than he usually is (a bit more pouty too, because what do you mean you called him that as a joke?)
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau
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cherryredcheol · 2 months
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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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kozukensgf · 4 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 | part four
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scalingsvt8thusiast · 2 months
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Masterlist
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Skin-Deep - Seungcheol x reader fic
summary: The one where you fall for Seungcheol amongst all the protests and insecurities. The one where you don't know that he's fallen for you too.
Part 1 - 1, 2, 2.5, 3, 4, 5
Part 2 - 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
Part 3 (Final) - 11, 12, 13, 14
Epilogue - 1, 2
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Wait for your love - Wonwoo x reader fic = 1, 2, 3 (complete)
I wanna be yours with Wonwoo
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Gym time with DK
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Brooklyn baby with Mingyu
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Meme time with Vernon
let me know if any links don't work :D
I don’t have a tag list but I might get around to making one soon but just check back soon if u like the fics 💞
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shuagirl · 2 days
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 seventeen's reactions to meeting their little selves ( their new born baby).
warnings. dad!svt x fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, baby / newborn scenarios, emotional content, pure wholesomeness <3
( marvy ) yoyo just clearing out my drafts out for you guys . ignore any mistakes please !!
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…Choi Seungcheol: As soon as you place your newborn in Seungcheol’s arms, he’s overwhelmed with joy. Tears well up in his eyes, and he holds the baby close, his protective instincts immediately kicking in. “Look at you,” he whispers, his voice trembling with emotion. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable, yet so strong at the same time. He cradles the baby gently, his large hands careful and tender. Every few seconds, he glances at you, eyes filled with gratitude and love. Seungcheol promises right then and there that he’ll protect and cherish your baby with all his heart. He’s in awe of this tiny life you both created, and the reality of being a father hits him in the best way possible.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Yoon Jeonghan: Jeonghan can’t stop smiling as he gazes at your baby. He gently touches their tiny hands, marveling at how small and delicate they are. “Hey there, little one,” he whispers sweetly, his voice soothing and gentle. He leans in closer, his eyes filled with warmth and adoration. You can see how natural he is with the baby, as if he was born to be a father. Every little movement or sound your baby makes brings a new wave of joy to his face. He’s in his element, already planning all the sweet moments and gentle guidance he’ll give as they grow. Jeonghan’s heart is full, and it’s clear he’s ready to pour all his love into this new chapter of your lives.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Hong Jisoo: Jisoo softly sings a lullaby to your newborn, his voice calm and melodic. As he holds the baby close, he gazes down with a look of pure love and pride. “You’re so precious,” he murmurs, a gentle smile playing on his lips. You can see the contentment in his eyes, knowing that he’s holding the best part of both of you. Every note he sings seems to weave a spell of calm around your little family. Jisoo is proud and content, feeling an immense sense of fulfillment. He’s already imagining the future, filled with music and love, teaching your child the beauty of song and the importance of kindness. He’s never felt more complete.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Wen Junhui: Junhui laughs with excitement the moment he sees your baby. He talks to them in a playful manner, his voice filled with energy and joy. “Hey there, tiny one! I’m your dad,” he says, his eyes twinkling with delight. He’s full of enthusiasm, his laughter infectious. Every little coo or wiggle from your baby sends him into fits of giggles. Junhui is already planning all the fun and playful moments he’ll share with them, from silly faces to playful games. His heart is bursting with happiness, and you can tell he’s going to be the kind of dad who fills your child’s life with endless joy and laughter.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Kwon Soonyoung: Soonyoung beams with happiness as he holds your newborn. He can’t help but make playful faces to get them to smile, his affection evident in every gesture. “You’re my little star,” he coos, his grin wide and bright. His happiness is contagious, filling the room with warmth. Soonyoung’s playful nature shines through, but there’s also a deep tenderness in the way he cradles your baby. He’s already imagining all the dance routines he’ll teach them, all the ways he’ll encourage their creativity and joy. His heart is full of love, and he’s ready to shower your child with all the affection and fun he has to give.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Jeon Wonwoo: Wonwoo quietly admires your baby, a gentle smile playing on his lips. He holds them carefully, his touch light and tender. “You’re amazing,” he whispers, his eyes filled with awe. You can see how deeply moved he is, his usual calm demeanor softened by this incredible moment. He’s content to just watch the baby’s tiny movements, memorizing every detail. Wonwoo’s love is quiet but profound, and he’s ready to be the steady, reliable presence in your child’s life. He may not be the loudest or most expressive, but his love is deep and unwavering. He’s already planning all the ways he’ll support and nurture your baby as they grow.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Lee Jihoon: Jihoon looks at your baby with awe, a mix of shyness and tenderness in his expression. He’s a bit hesitant at first, but as soon as he holds them, you can see the love in his eyes. “Hello there,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. He’s incredibly gentle, as if afraid to disturb their peaceful sleep. Jihoon’s heart swells with emotion, and he’s already thinking about all the lullabies and songs he’ll write for them. His shyness melts away as he starts to bond with your baby, his natural tenderness coming to the fore. He’s ready to be the most caring and dedicated father, pouring all his love into this tiny new life.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Lee Seokmin: Seokmin is full of joy, his smile so wide it looks like it might split his face. He can’t stop grinning as he holds your baby, his eyes sparkling with happiness. “You’re perfect,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. He sings softly to them, his voice a gentle lullaby. Every note is filled with love, and you can see how deeply he’s already bonded with your child. Seokmin’s joy is infectious, and you can’t help but smile along with him. He’s ready to be the most loving and joyful father, filling your baby’s life with music and laughter. His heart is so full, and he can’t wait to share every moment of this new journey with you.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Kim Mingyu: Mingyu is very emotional as he holds your baby for the first time. Tears well up in his eyes, and he can’t help but smile through them. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispers, his voice full of awe. He cradles the baby gently, his large hands surprisingly delicate. Every little movement or sound from your baby brings a fresh wave of emotion. Mingyu’s heart is overflowing with love, and he’s already imagining all the ways he’ll protect and care for your child. His emotions are raw and powerful, and he’s not afraid to show them. He’s ready to be the most dedicated and loving father, cherishing every moment with your baby.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Xu Minghao: Minghao is calm and serene as he holds your baby, his touch gentle and reassuring. “Hello, little one,” he says softly, his voice a soothing balm. He strokes their head softly, his eyes filled with a deep, quiet love. Minghao’s presence is calming, and you can see how naturally he takes to being a father. He talks to the baby in a gentle, melodic tone, his words full of love and promise. Minghao is ready to be a calm and steady presence in your child’s life, guiding them with love and wisdom. His heart is full, and he’s already planning all the ways he’ll nurture and support your baby as they grow.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Boo Seungkwan: Seungkwan is excited and animated, his energy filling the room as he holds your baby. “Look at you! You’re amazing!” he exclaims, his eyes wide with wonder. He talks to the baby with enthusiasm, his voice full of love and excitement. Seungkwan’s reactions are so spirited that he makes everyone around him laugh. He’s already planning all the fun and lively moments he’ll share with your child, from games to songs to endless laughter. His heart is bursting with joy, and he’s ready to be the most fun and loving father. Seungkwan’s energy is infectious, and you know your baby will always feel loved and cherished.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Chwe Hansol: Hansol is amazed and a bit speechless as he holds your baby for the first time. He smiles gently, his eyes wide with wonder. “Wow, you’re really here,” he murmurs, his voice filled with awe. He holds the baby close, careful and tender. Hansol’s usual cool demeanor melts away in the presence of your newborn, revealing a softer, more vulnerable side. He’s ready to be the kind of father who’s always there, offering quiet support and endless love. His heart is full, and he’s already imagining all the ways he’ll share his passions and interests with your child. Hansol’s love is deep and steady, and he’s ready to pour it all into this new journey.
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
…Lee Chan: Chan is overjoyed as he holds your baby, his smile wide and bright. He can’t help but dance around a bit, his excitement palpable. “You’re incredible!” he exclaims, his eyes shining with happiness. He keeps looking at the baby in wonder, his heart full of love. Chan’s joy is infectious, and you can see how deeply he’s already bonded with your child. He’s ready to be the most enthusiastic and loving father, sharing his energy and joy with your baby. Chan’s heart is bursting with happiness, and he can’t wait to fill your child’s life with love, laughter, and endless fun.
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SHUAGIRL © 2024. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.
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miniseokminnies · 11 days
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rivers and roads —- c.hs
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˚。 pairing: chwe hansol x afab!reader ˚。 genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers ˚。 wc: 5.6k ˚。 warnings: 18+ MDNI, drug mention (weed), alcohol mention, one uncomfortable situation with a stranger who is a man, lying to hotel staff, spit kink, oral [m. receiving], multiple orgasms, praise kink, slight dacryphilia, insecurity, anxiety, slight angst with a happy ending ˚。 synopsis: having just graduated college and having some time before the real world starts two best friends decide to take a road trip that might change their friendship forever. ˚。 playlist: rivers and roads
mood board by: @myhimbomingi
You smooth your hands over the rough polyester of your ugly blue graduation gown. Staring ahead and starting to fidget in line to walk across the stage you felt a hand slip into yours and give a supportive squeeze. Looking up your eyes met the deep brown of your best friend, Hansol’s. 
“Nervous?” he asked softly, beginning to rub circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. Your eyes drifted back to the stage and you nodded,
“What if I trip?” you muttered as the two of you moved forward in the line, the monotonous announcer continuing to read through the names of your graduating classmates. Hansol chuckled, knowing that your concern is valid, but not anything you needed to worry about. Hansol and yourself have been friends since college orientation the summer before your freshman year. The two of you were in the same group and immediately clicked. Slowly the two of you expanded your group, mostly consisting of the two of you and some guys that lived on Hansol’s dorm floor freshman year. 
“Chwe Hansol” the announcer boomed over the microphone. He smiled down at you and you felt his hand slip out of yours. 
***
“So does anyone have any big plans before we join the workforce?” your friend Seokmin smiled at your group’s last weekly Saturday lunch before you all went your separate ways. 
“Y/N and I are going on a road trip” Hansol said nonchalantly without looking up from his menu. Joshua and Jeonghan exchanged a quick glance, 
“Oh? Where to?” the latter asked. 
“Dunno” you shrugged, “just taking two weeks to see where we end up” Jeonghan nodded, glancing at Joshua again. 
“Sounds boring” Junhui muttered, engrossed in his phone, “ow!” he yelped as Minghao shoved his elbow into his ribs. 
*** 
Clutching onto the straps of your duffle bag you began to bounce on the balls of your feet. You saw Hansol’s red pick up truck pull into the parking lot of your apartment complex and you slung your backpack over your left shoulder and your duffle over your right and bounded out the door. Vernon laughed as he spotted you, so clearly excited. He wordlessly took your duffle and placed it in the back of the cab behind the passenger’s seat. You set your backpack on the floor of the passenger's seat and climbed into the truck. 
“Ready?” Hansol asked as he got behind the wheel.  You smiled widely at him and nodded. He gave you a single nod and started the truck. 
Driving with Hansol was always something you enjoyed, the two of you spent a lot of time during college just driving around. He always had new music to play for you. He was always a comfort for you, and comfortable silence, apart from the music from the speakers, took over the drive quickly. 
After a few hours of driving and intermittent conversation, you felt your eyelids getting heavy. You shifted in your seat, trying to get more comfortable. 
“Close your eyes, nap” Hansol said softly without looking away from the road. 
“Mmm, keeping you company” you mumbled, closing your eyes and leaning your cheek on your hand. 
“I’m fine, Y/N” he chuckled. You nodded, slipping into sleep quickly. Hansol looked over at your sleeping form, and feeling an odd sensation in his chest, looked back to the road. 
You felt a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, “Y/N” you heard Hansol, your eyes fluttered open, seeing him close to you. 
“Hm?” you hummed, rubbing your eye and looking up at him. 
“I found a motel, they have a room for us” he told you. You nodded and picked up your backpack from the floor. Hansol already had your duffle over his shoulder and his backpack on. Once you were settled he began leading you toward the room he rented.  
“Where are we?” You called to Hansol from the bathroom and squeezed some of your cleanser into your hand. 
“About six hours south of your apartment,” your friend appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, now in his pajamas, and leaned against the doorframe, “I don’t know the name of the town, or what’s here” 
Once the two of you were ready for bed you settled in one of the two beds in the room. 
“Good night, ‘Sol” you yawned. Hansol hummed in response and shut off the light. 
*** 
You were up before Hansol the next morning. Letting him sleep you slipped into the shower, what felt comfortable in the car the previous day was now responsible for some stiffness.  You let the warm water run over your body, getting lost in the feeling. You’re not sure how long you stood there enjoying the warmth loosening your tight muscles before you heard the bathroom door swing open.  
“Y/N?” you heard the sleepy voice of Hansol call out, “I’m…I just need to piss” 
“Go ahead,” you replied, trying to be less awkward than your friend and beginning the process of washing your hair.  
“Breakfast?” you asked, sitting on the edge of Hansol’s bed after your shower.  Looking up from his phone he nodded eagerly at you, 
“Please, I’m starving.”
***
Hansol and yourself didn’t stay in that town long after the meal, it was small and there wasn’t much to see beyond the amazing local breakfast cafe and your motel.  The two of you have been on the road for a few hours now.  
“I love this song,” Hansol mumbled, a laugh escaped your lips, “What? I do!” he scoffed at your reaction, 
“I know, Hansol,” you reach across the center console to take the partially smoked joint from behind his ear, “I was the one who played you this song, remember?” He watched you from the corner of his eye place his joint between your lips and bring his zippo to the end, lighting it up. 
Hansol does remember hearing this song for the first time, the crackle of your old record player in your college apartment. You looked similar to how you do now, hair tied up haphazardly, baseball cap from the university bookstore you bought that orientation day on your head. Admittedly, the hat is much more worn now. You took your single puff of his joint before passing it to him to finish off that day too. 
This may be his favorite you he ever gets to see. A single blow of smoke escaping your lips. You only ever want the one, and Hansol only ever smokes his half of the joint when you start it for him. Currently, he was trying to calm his racing heart, and trying to distract himself from the fact that the joint was between your lips a few moments ago.  
“Of course I do,” he took the joint between his fingers, drumming the steering wheel, “Feels different now…” he trailed off listening to the words, a year from now, we'll all be gone, all our friends will move away. Absentmindedly, he thought about how different things might be after he drops you off at your apartment in two weeks.  
You watched as he blew smoke toward the window, he got this far away look in his eyes, you knew he was thinking.  You knew better than to ask, Hansol was a man of few words, and if he wanted to talk about it, he would.  Eyeing him you turned up the volume on the radio, you saw the corner of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly, you knew he appreciated the gesture, one of not making him talk before he was ready.  
The drive droned on like this for the majority of the day, eventually the smoke stopped curling towards the window as Hansol had smoked it all away, he would need to roll more before bed.  Eventually, you saw Hansol blinking furiously, trying to stay awake. 
“‘Sol” you reached out to touch his arm, “Maybe we should take a break” he jumped slightly at your touch, so focused on the road. 
“Where…” he chuckled, once he had regained his calm demeanor, “we’re in the middle of nowhere” you only shrugged in response, 
“Pull over, it doesn’t matter” and soon the impenetrable line of trees on the side of the road gave way to an open field. Hansol pulled his truck off the road matting down the grass in its wake, he drove close to the tree line, worried about getting in trouble if someone saw the car from the road. Once the truck was safely in park you watched Hansol reach to the back of the cab and tugged a few blankets toward you two. Wordlessly he opened his door and moved toward the bed of the truck. 
Turning around you watched him spread the blankets in the bed through the back window. He poked his tongue through his teeth in concentration, when he was finished he hopped off the bed and moved toward your side of the truck. You scrambled to look nonchalant, and as if you totally were not watching him, a ghost of a smile playing at your lips. 
“C’mon then” he opened up your door. Following him out to the back he helped you up. Laying on your back you felt the plush of the blankets and watched Hansol as he settled down next to you. Once he was comfortable you turned your eyes to the sky and covered your eyes with your forearm. The hand nearest to Hansol was left in its place, unbeknownst to you, his pinky inched closer, trying to build the confidence to take the plunge. 
You woke up to a cool drop of water plopping directly onto your forehead.  When did you fall asleep?  Barely having the time to wonder before the skies open up and begin to drench Hansol and yourself.  
“Hansol!” you sat up and shook his shoulders, “Hansol!”  his eyes fluttered open slowly, somehow for a moment you forgot the rain was beating down on you as you watched his eyes soften from the confusion they held when he first woke.  The softness he usually works so hard to shield you from was on full display, you wanted to stay in this fleeting moment forever, but you realized just as quickly as the gaze softened it turned panicked. 
“Oh my God!” he sat up, almost bumping his head on your nose, “it’s pouring” he stated almost too simply.  The two of you worked to heave the now soaking blankets out of the bed of the truck and into the back of the cab.   
Hansol slams his door shut and throws his head back against the rest behind him.  He pushes a hand through his now sopping wet hair.  Turning to look toward him you catch his eyes taking in his appearance.  After a few seconds of holding eye contact the two of you burst into a fit of laughter.      
The drooping fan blades cut through the stale hot air on the ceiling of the motel about thirty miles from where you got caught in the storm.  You were sprawled out on the bed looking up at the fan, finally feeling warm now that you were able to change out of your wet clothes.   
Hansol was still down in the lobby, trying to talk the motel manager into letting him use their large driers for the blankets. Finally, you heard the door open and the squish of socks inside wet shoes approach you. 
“One bed?” Hansol asked. You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking him up and down, stifling another bout of laughter at his state of disheveledness. 
“That’s kind of what happens when you take a trip without a plan” you pointed out, letting yourself smile so he knew you were joking.  Hansol rolled his eyes, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. 
“I guess you’re right” the softness in his eyes returns for a moment, before he remembered he was dripping on the floor, “I’m gonna change…” you flopped back on the bed and resumed the exhilarating activity of watching the blades of the fan lazily cutting the air. 
The bathroom door clicked closed and you heard Hansol’s muffled sigh. Imagining him hanging his wet clothes next to yours over the bar of the shower you tried to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. 
“I’ll sleep on the floor” Hansol stated, startling you, you were too deep in thought to notice him. You watched as he busied himself with taking out his phone charger. 
“No” you sat up again, “there’s no need to do that, it’s not like we didn’t fall asleep next to each other earlier” you watched him turn to you, greedily taking in his form, his baggy sweats and his t-shirt, “plus this floor is more than likely disgusting” 
“Good point” he smiled at you, moving toward what he decided is his side of the bed, the side closest to the door. The two of you settle under the covers and Hansol clicks off the lamp on his side, “Goodnight Y/N” he mutters 
“Goodnight ‘Sol” your back was turned to him, but your eyes were stuck open, feeling the adrenaline of an invisible line being crossed. 
*** 
“Do you think everyone in this town is this stupid?” Hansol asked incredulously as the car in front of you break checked him. 
“Probably,” you kicked your feet up on his dashboard, “I bet they teach them all to do this at driver’s ed, to cut people off when they’re from out of town” Hansol laughed at your made up story, 
“We need to find a city I think” he muttered, “I’m a little tired of motels and small towns” Nodding in agreement you reached for the joint behind his ear, freshly rolled before you left this morning, and tried to not think about the way that his tongue darts out to wet his lips.  Hansol slowed at the red light and you felt his heavy gaze as you lit the joint.  You had to all but hold yourself down so you didn’t squirm under the sudden attention, inhaling and blowing the smoke toward the window.  Meeting his eyes you placed the joint between his lips as the light turned green.  
***
“We have no rooms that will accommodate you” the snobby hotel clerk sneers at you from behind the desk.  The two of you had found a city six hours west of where you started this morning, and the hotel you decided to try evidently had standards, ones that your leggings and Hansol’s basketball shorts didn’t meet.  You opened your mouth to argue, but Hansol beat you to it, 
“Look,” he started, surprising you, “it’s our honeymoon,” you had to stop yourself from staring at him like he had grown a second head, “the hotel we had reserved, they double booked us, it doesn’t need to be your best, just a room.” The clerk sighed and began typing furiously clicking through his computer, you took the opportunity to glance at Hansol, questions evident on your face.  He merely shrugged with a lopsided smirk painting his face.  
“We had a last minute cancellation…” the clerk muttered reluctantly, once again taking in the state of your apparel, “Names please?” 
“Vernon and, “ he looked at you expectantly, after no less than a solid 15 seconds of panic you mustered up, 
“Kate” 
“Vernon and Kate Chwe” Hansol affirmed. 
“Well congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Chwe” the man behind the desk offered as he held out a pair of room keys and you had to ignore the way your stomach flips at the sound of that.  
The elevator dings and opens its doors to you.  Quietly, you both get inside and as the doors close, and not a second sooner you are turning to your friend, 
“What the Hell, Hansol?” you whisper urgently, “why—how did you lie like that?”
“You don’t spend as much time as I do with Yoon Jeonghan and not learn anything,” he shrugs, “it got us a room, didn’t it Kate?” 
As soon as the door opened to your hotel room you dropped your bag on the floor and rushed to the window.  The view overlooking the city was surely better in the other more expensive rooms but this was good enough for you.  Hansol leaned against the wall behind you and watched as you perched yourself in the window sill.  
The sun was just starting to set and you were determined to watch it disappear behind the skyscrapers.  Hansol folded his arms over his chest, acutely aware that the two of you had already been on this trip for almost a week. He tries not to let the reality of life after college, after the trip hit him square in the chest, not now, not when you were so intently watching the slow descent of the sun from the window in the hotel room he lied his way into.  Any of his friends would tell you that this was out of character, in any other situation Hansol is almost brutally honest, but if they knew it was for you, they wouldn’t bat an eye.  
Hansol genuinely lost track of time just watching you get lost in your world, before he knew it the stars were twinkling overhead and the sun was long gone.  
“I think we should go out” you announced without turning away from the window, Hansol’s heart jumped into his throat, 
“What?!” he sputtered, trying to process what you just said to him.
“There are clubs here I’m sure,” you turned to him, “we should go out tonight” at your clarification Hansol let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.  
***
Clubbing wasn’t really Hansol’s scene, and you knew that, but you were hoping to help him break out of whatever anxiety fueled funk he had been in for almost the entire trip.  You saw the spark in his eyes a bit back at the hotel when he scored a room.  However, almost as soon as the two of you arrived at the club, he parked himself in a secluded corner near the bar and has been nursing a whiskey for the better part of an hour.  Currently, you could feel his gaze boring into the back of your head as you were talking to someone on the dance floor.  
“I’ve never seen you around here,” he puts a hand on your arm and leans into your ear so you could hear him over the music, “I frequent this spot, what brings you in?” you repressed a scoff, there’s no way this guy memorizes everyone coming to this club in this huge city.  
“Oh” you back up slightly, “I’m just on a road trip and passing through” he followed you as you tried to step away from him, trying to stay in close proximity with you.  
“Let me show you a good time then,” he put his hand back on your arm and the other on your hip.  Unbeknownst to you, behind you Hansol had downed the rest of his drink.  You felt a pair of arms snake around your waist and move you out of the man’s grasp.  Looking up you saw Hansol, his jaw squarely set. 
“Can I help you?” He nearly spat. You saw the other man’s eyes take in Hansol and then moved to rake over your body, “Speak up” Hansol glared. 
“I was talking with her,” the man crossed his arms.  
“And now” Hansol started turning you toward the exit, “you’re not” you melted into Hansol’s side and tried to just leave.  
“Who are you anyway?” the man called, catching Hansol’s arm, “You didn’t even ask her if she wanted to leave with you.” Hansol’s eyes drifted down to where the man had ahold of him, 
“I’m her husband,” he went to shake himself out of his grip but he was holding on tight, “I suggest you let go” the man’s hand dropped, “Good choice” and Hansol was sweeping you out of the building.  
The cool air of the summer night bloomed in your lungs as you breathed more easily out on the street.  Hansol has not let go of your waist, and you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted him to, after the alcohol and the interaction you had moments ago.  “Are you okay?” Hansol asked, taking a step back from you, planting his hands on your hips, his eyes searching yours in a panic.  
“I’m okay” you breathed, “but….thank you for stepping in when you did” He smiled at you, breathing a sigh of relief.  
“Let’s go” he slipped his hand in yours and intertwined your fingers, so no one could question him again.  
The walk home was…strange, to say the least.  Hansol had never kept his hand in yours longer than it took to give it a reassuring squeeze in the several years the two of you have been friends.  In addition to this, you never once felt like you wanted him to let go.  You never questioned his assertion that he is your husband back at the club, that’s what he told the hotel, so might as well continue that, right? 
In the elevator up to your room things only got stranger, Hansol wrapped his arms around your waist again, pressed the button for your floor, and unwrapped himself from you and stood at the opposite side of the small room, staring at you.  
Entering your hotel room you watched Hansol close the door behind you.  He took a deep breath and moved toward you, you stayed still, wondering what was about to happen. He cupped your cheek in his hand, setting a swarm of butterflies loose in your stomach.
“I think” he whispered, “if it’s okay with you, while we’re here, we should play pretend” his eyes searched yours again as his thumb moved to rest on your chin.  You nodded, however added, 
“Hansol…we, we’re friends…” your breath hitched as he applied pressure on your chin with his thumb, 
“Ah” he watched your mouth open at his request, “but we’re Vernon and Kate here, we just got married, babe” the pet name rolled off his tongue so easily as he got impossibly closer to you and spit into your now open mouth, you almost recoiled as his action, before realizing he was right.  What was there to lose at this point? You closed your mouth and swallowed without him having to ask, which earned you a groan, “God, what a good girl, I didn’t even have to ask…”  and then his mouth was on yours, falling into rhythm as if this was something that happened all the time.
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck.  His tongue swiped your bottom lip, requesting access that you swiftly granted.  His tongue explored your mouth with a fervor that if you were less distracted would make you wonder how long he has waited for this moment.  There was no time for thoughts like that, he was backing you toward the bed.  He sat you down on the edge with your legs dangling off, and broke the kiss.  Settling on the floor between your knees he began to help you remove your shoes, and then your pants, and he began to work towards your shirt before you cut him off with a whine.  He looked up at you quizzically.    
“Not fair,” you stated, “you’re still fully clothed.” 
“Earn it” he chuckled, and reached between your legs to lay the pads of his fingers on your clothed cunt, “shouldn’t be too hard, considering you’re so wet for me already,” which earned him the deepest blush he has ever seen gracing your cheeks.  He began slow ruminations on your clit over your underwear, your hips bucking involuntarily at the stimulation, “that’s right” he nearly growled.  What you’ve learned about Hansol over the last several years is that he is a patient man, he doesn’t need to rush, but you really wish he would right about now.  Another whine escaped your lips trying to egg him on.  
Evidently, it worked because he began to peel your ruined panties away from your dripping heat, “God babe, you’re beautiful, all ready for me” he lined himself up and gathered up his saliva and spit into your already wet cunt.  He used the mixture of wetness between your legs to ease two fingers inside of you, moaning at the sensation of being filled, your eyes screwed shut.   The pad of his thumb found your clit and he began to circle the bundle of nerves meticulously.  “Remember what you’re working for” he reminded you, picking up his pace.  You felt the coil in your stomach begin to tighten as you heard his fingers working in your pussy.  
“I’m…” you cut yourself off with a moan as Hansol curled his fingers inside you to inch you closer to your approaching high.  
“Let go” was all you needed for the coil to snap and white hot pleasure overtook your senses.  “That’s it, you did so well for me” you heard Hansol’s soothing voice as you were coming down.  Your eyes fluttered open as he was standing up from between your legs and pulling his shirt over his head.  
“Here,” you sat up and reached for his belt, “I can help” you added, unhooking the belt and pulling his pants and his boxers down.  You watched as his cock sprung free, hard and leaking already.  Pulling him closer by his hips you watched his face intently, a mix of lust and anticipation.  You took him in your hand and he let out a hiss, “You need it that badly?” At your comment he took a handful of your hair and pulled it so you were looking up at him and he gave you a warning look.  You nodded in understanding and gave his cock a few pumps before leaning down.  You took the tip into your mouth and swirled your tongue around his slit, taking in the precum that had already mixed with your saliva.  
“Let me” he thrusted experimentally.  You hollowed out your cheeks and sunk your lips further down, in a way letting him know he could use your mouth to get off. He grunted and thrusted into your mouth at a bit of a rushed pace, it was obvious that he was wound up tight.  “Good girl, letting me use her, fuck”  tears pricked at the corners of your eyes but you were determined.  Hansol’s thrusts became sloppy as the tears began to stream down your cheeks, using the hand that was still in your hair he pulled you off his dick, “you have another one in you” he stated as he lay you down on the bed.  
He hovered over you and wiped your tears with his thumb, “you okay?” he asked quietly, you nodded, not being able to form words at the moment.  “Good” he smiled down at you, you felt him tease his cock head through your folds.  You flinched from the sensitivity.  Slowly, he eased into you.  Simultaneously, you both moaned at the sensation, which made you smile at each other, like this was just another normal night in your friendship, even though that was so far from the truth.  
After letting you adjust to his size he began to thrust slowly in and out of you.  “I won’t last long, you did too well…” he choked out, your pussy clenching around him at the continued praise.  His thrusts again became erratic and you knew he was close.  Somehow, you were impossibly close as well, chasing a high that snuck up on you.  You felt every delicious drag of his cock on your walls before you felt Hansol pull out and his white ropes shot into your stomach as your high crashed into you.  
Hansol pushed his sweat drenched hair off his forehead.  The two of you stared at each other for a few fleeting moments, realizing the gravity of what just happened, before silently agreeing that you will figure all of that out later.  He climbed out of the bed and hurried to the bathroom and returned moments later with a warm towel and a glass of water.  
“Are you okay?” he asked again as he was gently wiping himself off of your stomach.  
“Yes,” you assured him, “I am surprisingly calm about what just happened” he smiled up at you before leaning down to kiss your now clean stomach.       
***
Hansol and yourself didn’t talk about that night for the next several days, but nothing went back to normal either.  He was holding your hand, he was giving you kisses, and right now he had his hand on your thigh as you left that city behind.  Hansol insisted you stay there for a few more days than you had originally planned, you had a sneaking suspicion as to why but you decided not to push it.  You weren’t one to complain, especially when you were getting pleased nearly every night.  
“Take me to see the ocean” you piped up suddenly.  
“What?” Hansol laughed looking over at you quickly before returning his eyes to the road.  
“Sounds like a good way to end this little adventure” you shrugged.  You felt Hansol freeze up for a moment before recovering.  
“Right” he muttered, “Let’s get you to the ocean,” he said, squeezing your thigh.  
***
You watched out the window as the ocean came into view on your side, you had been to the ocean once in your life, but it seemed important to see it now for some reason.  Seeing something so grand felt like a great way to begin your new life in the next few days, you were nervous, but so excited.  You watched as Hansol parked the truck in a public beach access parking lot and turned to you.  
“Ready?” he smiled
“Ready” you smiled back.  You walked hand in hand over the sand and the sea breeze catching your hair.  It was early evening by the time you had found your way here so it was cooling down as the sun was setting.  
Hansol spread one of the blankets from the truck over the sand, close enough to see the waves but not close enough that it would get soaked from a rogue wave.  You sat down and Hansol slotted himself behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 
You don’t know how long you sat, in quiet contemplation, neither one of you wanting to break whatever spell settled over you two over the last week or so.  “Hansol-” you started, 
“Vernon” he tried to correct.  
“No,” you said firmly, “Hansol, what are we doing?” 
“Two more days,” he sighed, “Just…give me two more days, I swear you’ll get back in time” he rested his chin on your shoulder, waiting for your response.  
“Two more days, and I get to call you Hansol” 
“Deal” 
***
You left the beach headed for home two days later, as promised.  Hansol drove quietly away from whatever the last few weeks were between you, his hands were firmly on the wheel, he hadn’t touched you at all today.  It’s as if with your kiss goodnight the illusion was broken and you were back to reality.  You weren’t sure which was better for you, living like Hansol was your boyfriend or having him as your best friend again.  Then again, you weren’t sure why you couldn’t have both honestly.  
About an hour into your drive Hansol took the joint out from behind his ear and tried to pass it to you wordlessly.  
“Oh, I can’t” you told him, “I start my job next week and they told me I need to pass a drug test before my first day” Hansol dropped the joint, pulled over, and flung open his door, “Hansol?! What the fuck are you doing?” You followed him into the woods on the side of the road, “Hansol!” you caught his arm and pulled him so he was facing you, there were tears in his eyes.  
“God I am so stupid” he wiped his eyes furiously with the back of his hand. 
“Hansol what’s going on” your voice softened at the sight of his tears, you wanted so desperately to wipe them away, but thought better of it due to the nature of the situation. 
“Y/N” this is the first time he has used your real name, not a pet name or Kate, in several days, it almost felt foreign to your ears, “this is it! Your gone after this, you’ll be working and busy, I’ll have lost you and everyone I care about” he threw his head back, looking at the sky, “I have no plans, no job, and no friends,” he looks back down at you, “and you can’t even smoke my weed” 
“Hansol…I-” you tried. 
“No it’s true, everyone is gone, Hell, some of the guys have moved across the country, I’ll be lucky if I ever see Seungkwan again” Hansol was crying now. “And I know this is a great opportunity for him, and for you, I’m so proud of all of you, but what about me, what am I supposed to do, Y/N?” he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, you could tell he felt stupid about crying and feeling sorry for himself.  
“Move in with me” you blurted out, without really thinking, but it felt like a logical thing to say.  You watched as he pulled his hands away from his eyes, 
“What?” 
“You heard me,” you moved closer to him and rubbed his arms with your hands, “move in with me” 
“Like…as friends or-” “No” you cut him off, “absolutely not as friends,” it was his turn to cut you off, he closed the short distance between you and pressed his lips firmly to yours.
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mangocustard16 · 4 days
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BOYFRIEND VERNON WHO...
pairing: idol!vernon x reader genre: fluff, established relationship, comfort warnings: skinship, kissing :) wc: 216 a/n: i'm back! 1st year of college finally over!
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bf! vernon who is literally the best match for you, like soulmate level shit
bf! vernon who is not that into showing his affection publicly but he would whisper the quietest "i love you's" in your ears
bf! vernon who buys the weirdest stuff he could find whenever he's on tour
bf! vernon who lives to hear you talk about every tine detail of your day
bf! vernon who could never and i mean never could miss a single anniversary. Was he an hour late to your anniversary dinner last year? But that was traffic....yeah
bf! vernon whose ears go red the moment you try to make the first move
bf! vernon who loves to go for movie dates, and have deep conversations about the characters and the plot
bf! vernon who is definitely a takeout kind of guy
bf! vernon who likes kissing you everywhere, lips, cheeks, down your neck over your shoulders
bf! vernon who loves the way you smell whenever you hug him
bf! vernon who took the longest to introduce you to his parents
bf! vernon who would create a new shared playlist for the two of you so that you guys can add new good songs
bf! vernon whose favorite thing about this entire day is coming home back to you
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@kflixnet @k-films@k-labels
taglist-˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅: @bangchansbae @haecien @aaniag @aaasia111 @weird-bookworm @gigification @bewoyewo if you want to be added just send me an ask ♡⸝⸝
pls reblog if you liked !!
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silv3rswirls · 5 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.
845 notes · View notes
nonranghaes · 1 month
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heads up! minor injury, food mentions
vernon smooths a bandage around the side of your palm, fingers lingering there a few extra seconds as he glances up to meet your gaze. “y’know that knife is pretty sharp.”
“vernon.” you know what he’s doing.
he holds his hand up where there’s a bandaid around the tip of his index finger. it has cartoon stars on it, matching the wide bandage you have since you bought the cuter ones to make using them a little nicer. “remember?”
he’s parroting your words back at you from when you patched him up the other day. but you just lean in, kissing where the bandaid is before drawing back. two can play at this game. “i know. i’m a dummy—”
with a playful roll of his eyes, he draws your hand up so he can kiss the bandaged spot on the side of your palm. “my dummy, but sure.” he smiles at you, fingers curling around your hand. “just be careful.”
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wheeboo · 2 months
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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
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babyleostuff · 19 days
Text
things they unconsciously do for you | ot13
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[☁️] seungcheol
protecting you
choi seungcheol is a protector through and through (you could say that sometimes he’s a tad too protective, but it’s simply because he loves you so much and he would most likely end up with a meltdown if he saw you hurt). covering sharp corners, walking on the outside of the pavement, holding your hand in big crowds, cutting the meat for you - doing all of these things is like second nature for cheol. he never thinks about doing them, like “oh, they dropped their spoon, maybe i should cover the table corner so they don’t bump their head”. no no. he just does it, simple as that. and good luck to the person that tries to make you uncomfortable or invade your personal space because well… choi seungcheol will fight them
[☁️] jeonghan
wrapping you up with a scarf/ putting on beanie 
jeonghan, as someone who gets cold easily, is very vary around the people around him being cold as well. he’s always more than happy to share some of his body heat with someone else, especially because hugging means more warmth. when it comes to you, though, there is no way you’re getting out of the house without a thick scarf and a beanie. it doesn’t matter if you get easily cold or not, jeonghan does not let you out of the house before you’re properly bundled up. the first thing he grabs when you’re getting ready to go out is your/ his scarf and a beanie, and he dresses you up like a mom dresses up a child, but there’s nothing you can do about it. and if you come to the practice room without anything wrapped around your neck, jeonghan is quick to change that, as he pulls out his own scarf to give it to you.
[☁️] joshua
ordering for you
sometimes being social - even if it’s just ordering food - can be overwhelming, and shua understands that completely. he never judges you for it, he could never, and that alone makes you feel so much better. he never minds it when you cling to his arm, standing beside him while he’s ordering coffee, or when you point to the food on the menu so he could tell the waiter what you want to eat. sometimes he doesn’t even has to ask you what you want to order because he knows you so well by now that he can guess what type of boba you’re craving that day or which type of pasta you want to get. 
[☁️] jun
brushing your hair 
jun likes his silent acts of service, brushing your hair being one of them. whether it be after you wake up, or after a shower, jun finds brushing your hair to be very calming, so it’s also a way for him to distress and spend some time with you as well. sometimes you sit in silence, sometimes you talk about your days, but it’s always so intimate without being sexual, and there’s something beautiful about that. and he adores looking at your sleepy reflection in the mirror, your eyes closing on their own, as he gently runs a brush through your hair, making sure not to pull too harshly.
[☁️] hoshi
carrying your bag 
it doesn’t matter what colour it is, if it’s a tote bag or a small baguette one - hoshi is going to carry it, like the gentleman he is. for one, he figures it must be uncomfortable and tiresome to carry a bag around all the damn time, also he doesn’t want you to strain your shoulders too much, so whenever he’s around he is going to be the one to carry it. and he always makes sure before you go out that you have all of your necessities packed in case you forgot something too. also, as much as he’s easy to distract, when he holds your bag at parties he turns on his bodyguard mode, protecting that bag like his life depends on it, clutching it closely to his body (will glare if someone dares to step too close to it).
[☁️] wonwoo
taking of your glasses after you’ve fallen asleep 
as a person who wears glasses himself he knows how annoying and uncomfortable it is to fall asleep with your glasses on (not to mention that they can break too), so this is as natural as breathing for him. he probably has a couple of photos in his camera roll of you asleep with your glasses on, but sometimes you look too adorable for him not to take a quick picture for him to coo over later. he always gently takes them off as not to wake you up, and places a kiss on your forehead, before putting your glasses away so they wouldn’t break on accident.
[☁️] woozi
(i don’t really know how to name this?) 
woozi is an insanely attentive man, which is one of the reasons why he’s so great at those silent acts of service that make your heart flutter so much. he picks up the smallest things - like shifts in your mood when you’re upset or feeling a bit down, and while at the beginning of your relationship he was a bit awkward with that since he wasn’t really sure how to help you, now he knows exactly what you need. it’s not even that he has to think about holding your hand or hugging you, or just simply sitting next to you - it’s almost like his body gravitates towards you on its own, like it knows you need him by his side in that moment. you could argue that it’s the bare minimum (which it is), but with jihoon it’s so natural, like i hope you get what i’m trying to say - but the way he’s always there right by your side when you need him without having to mention that you’re not feeling that well is everything you could ever ask for. 
[☁️] dk
holding your hand in big crowds 
all seokmin wants is for you to be happy, loved, and safe. grabbing your hand when you’re in big crowds is a no brainer for him, it’s like his hand moves by itself, finding yours, and intertwining your fingers. he never lets go, not before he’s sure you’re safe with a smaller amount of people around you, where you wouldn’t get lost or swarmed by the crowd, and even then he usually keeps on holding your hand. and if you get stuck in a big crowd, like during a concert or a festival, he often pulls you to his chest, and puts his arms securely around you, so he’s sure no one will bump into you or step on your foot.
[☁️] mingyu
cooking for you 
mingyu loves cooking and eating, that much we know. but what he loves more is cooking for you. to be honest, making food for you has always been something obvious for mingyu, from the very beginning of your relationship, and he never saw it as a chore or something he felt obligated to do. preparing breakfasts on your days off, making you lunch for work/school, cooking dinner for your at home dates - it brings him so much joy because not only does he get to do what he loves, but it also reassures him that you’re eating well and not skipping any meals (whenever he finds out you skip meals you end up with a very sulky and low key angry kim mingyu).
[☁️] minghao
buying you clothes
it’s not that he doesn’t like your style or thinks you’re bad at choosing your outfits, on the contrary - during the first stages of your relationship he payed a lot of attention to what you liked to wear, and for which types of clothes you went for, so that he could spoil you with clothes and accessories you liked, making sure you’d be comfortable in them and feeling 100% you. now, whenever he saw something he knew you’d like he immediately bought it, with no second thoughts. it’s kind of comforting to know that your significant other knows you so well that they know exactly what you’d like or what would draw your attention if you were shopping yourself.
[☁️] seungkwan 
singing/ humming you to sleep 
it’s not like he lays down and automatically starts singing, but he does that whenever he sees you need it. sometimes it’s singing, sometimes it’s only humming, but it’s like his body just knows you need something to soothe your mind to fall asleep. whenever he feels you shuffling around, tossing and turning, unable to find a comfy position - he gently grabs you by your waist, and pulls you a bit closer to him, and starts singing/humming. he doesn’t think much about doing it, it’s like an automatic response because one of the most heartbreaking sights for boo is seeing you unable to rest, unable to get your well deserved sleep.
[☁️] vernon
refilling your snacks drawer 
there’s just something about vernon and him noticing all of those small things about you, and what you love. and one thing you definitely love is him and your snacks. he noticed early in your relationship that you had a drawer in your kitchen dedicated solemnly to your favourite snacks, but also how bad you were at refilling it. thus, he took it upon himself to refill it so you could always have something to munch on, and with time it became such a habit of his that he stopped paying attention that he was actually doing it. whenever he was doing grocery it was obvious to him that the first aisle he had to go to was the snacks aisle so he could pick up all of your favourites. 
[☁️] dino
refilling your water bottle 
another very attentive man with acts of service as his love language. whether you’re actually good at keeping track of how much you drink, or if you don’t pay much attention to it - chan always re-fills your water bottle for you (he was probably the one to buy it in the first place, choosing a colour to match your aesthetic). he knows how important it is to drink proper amounts of water throughout the day, so making sure you drink sufficient amount of it is as natural as brushing his teeth for him. whenever you’re studying/ working he comes into your room, grabs your water bottle and re-fills it. same as when you’re getting for school/work in the morning - he fills it with water, and puts it back in your bag (sometimes he sticks a note to it as well, with a cute “i love you” message).
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