#vernon fic

[eoieopda]

tidal.

but vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “i don’t need a sales pitch. you will never — ever — have to convince me to fuck you.” 

pairing: vernon x afab!reader type: one-shot (fluff n’ smut) au: est. relationship wc: 4.8k rating: 18+ a/n: i didn’t plan this whatsoever, but i felt so weirdly compelled to write it that i avoided eye-contact with all of my wips, and now… here we are, lol. cw: pov switch, reader is afab + on their period, gender identity + pronouns aren’t designated, blood mention (obvi), unprotected p in v penetration (ill-advised!!), wee bit of dry-humping (ig?), a lil massage, pet names (baby, sweetheart), self-indulgent ref to a favorite docu of mine, and lastly — vernon (yes, this is a warning 🧍🏻) 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

Vernon isn’t blind. 

He can see you out of the corner of his eye, laying flat on your back, several unexplained centimeters away from his side. With the duvet clenched in your fists, you stare intently up at the ceiling, like you’re waiting for it to move — or trying to move it yourself, telekinetically. You keep your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, as if you expect it to make a run for it.

So, yes, Vernon can see you. 

He just can’t figure out what’s wrong with you.

For a few minutes, he attempts to pay attention to the documentary lighting up the screen on the wall ahead. You were the one that picked it — some wild tale about mother-daughter recluses in New York — and he finds it hard to give a shit about it without your usual commentary. Your hot takes are his favorite part of any movie night, after all.

He’ll be the first to admit that he’s never been good at keeping his eyes off you. Try as he might, he can’t glue his gaze to the television; each glance in your direction sticks longer than the one before it, testing the waters. Minutes slip away just like this until he completely caves, turns his head fully, and stares at you outright. 

You still don’t seem to notice.

His brow scrunches up as he watches you, caught in the middle between concerned, confused, and amused by how absolutely ridiculous you look right now. When he speaks, he tries to sound stern, like he isn’t fighting the urge to laugh.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” is all he gets in response. 

You don’t even look his way. If anything, you tense harder now that his attention is on you. 

None of it makes sense. Not the weird gap you’ve left between your body and his, your total refusal to look him in the eye, or the fact that there wasn’t an argument to precipitate any of this distance. It’s a symptom with no apparent cause, and it’s totally baffling. Brain-breaking, even.

Frowning, Vernon scoots himself across the bed to get closer to you. 

You don’t reciprocate. 

He tugs gently at the hem of your sweatshirt in a silent plea for your attention and receives radio silence in response; unless he counts the way you swallow thickly.

Which, for the record, he does not.

This close, Vernon can feel the anxious energy pulsing out of your tensed-up body in waves, so he leans away and props himself up on his elbow. Desperate to know what broke you and how to fix it, he mutters, “What is happening right now?”

Ope. 

It comes out harsher than it was supposed to, reading more like annoyance than worry, so he immediately clears his throat. Gently and with a brush of his knuckles against your hip bone, he tries again: “Are you okay? Did I do something to make you mad at me?”

A fly on the wall might get the wrong impression and think he stroked you with a live wire instead.

“Oh, my god. No!” You sputter with a jolt, shifting gears quickly from vaguely on-edge to horrified. You shake your head so frantically that Vernon fears you’ll detach it. “No, you haven’t done anything. I’m fine, I just —”

He interjects with a laugh, “— I don’t necessarily believe that —”

Visibly cringing with every muscle in your body, you cover your face with your hands. Not long after you take a deep breath does a meek voice slip out through your fingers, sounding beyond embarrassed.

“I’m so incomprehensibly horny right now that I can’t even look at you.”

For a second, it’s dead silent because he can’t quite process how much of a weirdo you are, or how completely and hopelessly enamored he is with you. But then the dam breaks. His laugh comes out so forcefully that you pull your hands away from your face, eyes wide.

“Is that so?” He smirks, nodding his head towards the television. “Grey Gardens really gets your motor running, huh?”

Absolutely aghast, you swat at his bicep. Then, you sling your arm over your eyes and groan, “I got my period. It has turned me into a sex-crazed monster, I fear.”

Vernon nods in understanding, even though you can’t see it, and hums, “Ahh.”

And he leaves it at that, only because you seem to have more that you want to say. Something you want to ask, maybe, or a reason you may want to give for not jumping his bones at the first opportunity. He’s down, he thinks without hesitation, so long as you are.

But you don’t say anything.

Maybe you aren’t actually down after all, and that’s why you won’t look at him. Shit, are you embarrassed? Should I say something? Silence falls overtop like a weighted blanket, smothering the two idiots who can’t tell whose turn it is to talk. 

Do you or do you not want this right now?

You mumble something that he can’t catch, so he nudges your side gently with his knuckles to encourage you. Just as nervous, you repeat yourself without looking at him, “Period sex is supposed to help with cramps, I think.”

He thinks he’s read the exact same article you have. More than that, he wishes you’d look over at him and see for yourself how completely unbothered he is by this concept.

“If you think about it, it’s kind of like a natural lubricant,” you add in a voice that’s even smaller than before.

Your shyness really might kill him, so he reaches over to grab your hand and gently pull your arm away from your eyes. It’s the first time you’ve looked at him since you laid down — since you put your self-imposed no-contact order in place — and he feels his stupid heart swell.

For what it’s worth, he feels his dick twitch, too.

You open your mouth to speak again, likely to continue your unnecessary campaigning; Vernon is having none of it. He tugs your wrist just enough to tilt you inward, then he kisses you hard enough to shut you up. A tiny whimper slips out of your lips when he pulls away, and it almost makes him regret his decision to do so. 

But Vernon has a point to make, so that’s precisely what he does: “I don’t need a sales pitch. You will never — ever —  have to convince me to fuck you.” 

Your eyes crinkle at the corners, like this is somehow news to you. It shouldn’t be. He’s told you a thousand times in as many different ways how thoroughly crazy you drive him just by existing so closely to him, but maybe you didn’t take him seriously then.

To emphasize his point, he slips his hand under the hem of your sweatshirt and finds your bare waist with the pad of his thumb. It spirals slowly against your warm skin, making both of you dizzy. Then, sick of the distance, Vernon dips his head down to press a kiss to your temple. 

“Like, ever,” he murmurs, lips following the curve of your jaw. 

Soft, slow kisses trail behind him as he travels down to your lips. Your head tilts further backwards with every single one, providing him with more and more access. 

He states it matter-of-factly because, to him, it is. “I’m down so bad for you that it might be terminal.”

“Oh?” 

You try to laugh but turn to putty when his palm rests fully on the curve of your waist and pulls you flush against him. The surprised gasp you let loose confirms his suspicion: You can feel how serious he is, affirmation throbbing against your abdomen in time with his heartbeat. 

Vernon smirks to himself, relishing your reaction, and bypasses your mouth entirely. A moan escapes from you, soft like an exhale, as his lips move slowly down the length of your neck. Every so often — just to feel you shiver — he flicks the tip of his tongue along the delicate skin he finds there.

“It might be messy…” 

The rest of your needless warning gets lost in a dreamy sigh as he suckles at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. Shifting even closer, your desperate fingers reach out and cling to his t-shirt.

Vernon licks a stripe over the galaxy blooming on your skin. He hums, hand traveling upwards from your waist, “Don’t care about a mess.”

And he means it. 

Mindful of any soreness, he smooths his hand over your left breast and massages it tenderly, swearing to himself that he’ll throw the whole fucking mattress out if that’s what it comes down to. For you, he’ll race across town on foot to buy another one, and — fuck it — if the store is closed, he might just break in.

You’re growing impatient; your fingers let go of his shirt and tangle themselves in his hair.

“So needy,” he chuckles low in his chest, teasing. “You know, I think you’re lying. I think it is this bat-shit insane documentary that’s driving you wild, and you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“Stop,” you whine, dragging out the vowel sound. 

You don’t, though; you throw your left leg over his right thigh and shimmy forward until your cunt grazes his dick. Involuntarily, he groans at the warmth radiating off your core. Every part of you drives him just the slightest bit insane. You seem to know it, he thinks as he watches your pupils dilate in real time.

But he can play games, too, so he rolls his hips forward and grinds against you. He pushes you further, “Don’t get me wrong, baby. I’m not kink-shaming you —”

“Hansol Vernon Chwe!”

Oh, shit. Government name?

“— I’m just a little surprised, I guess.” He sighs with a shrug. “Think you know somebody…”

Your impatience is scribbled all across your scrunched up face. It seeps into your voice when you crash back against the pillows and huff, “Can you please stop fucking with me and start fucking me?”

“Sex-crazed monster, huh?” Leaning over, Vernon punctuates his question with a quick press of his lips to yours.

You whimper, “I’m so serious. I might explode.”

“Then go take care of whatever you need to take care of.” He kisses you again, smiling so fondly that his eyes may even be twinkling. “And I’ll go get a towel.”

You wait until Vernon clears the threshold before launching yourself out of bed at breakneck speed. Stumbling all the while, you race off to the adjoining bathroom and shut the door forcefully behind you. When it clatters against the frame, you finally admit to yourself that you might be a little bit eager.

Maybe.

Opting to keep your baggy, bleach-stained sweatshirt on, you wiggle out of your shorts and — what he refers to as — your crisis diaper. The high-waisted, frumpy, beige panties are utilized exclusively during your period, and to your surprise, they’ve remained spotless. It’s only ever the pretty and expensive pairs that wind up as collateral damage, isn’t it?

As they pool around your ankles, you can’t help but think that Vernon’s nickname for them is pretty spot on. That’s partly why you figured he might need to be talked into this. Unsated arousal aside, you feel as far from sexy as you can possibly get.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts, kick what you’ve discarded into a pile near the hamper, and let your sweatshirt shift down to cover as much of your ass as it’s capable of managing. You grab a square of toilet paper; then, you go to work excavating the wad of cotton that separates you from everything you want in this life. 

It is within the realm of possibility that you’re a little bit eager and a little bit dramatic. 

Perhaps.

After discarding the evidence in the small trash can under the sink, you wash your hands as if you’re about to step into an operating theater and not the bedroom you spend half your life in. When you finally feel sterile, you lift your head and catch your reflection in the mirror. Instantly, you make eye contact with the painful, hormonal pimple on your chin — the one you’ve been waging a retinoid war against for days.

“Bitch,” you mutter, like calling it names will be the one thing that finally gets it to shrink. Of course, your plan doesn’t work, but you feel a little less powerless. That’s good enough, you think. At least, as good as it’s going to get.

Now half-naked and certifiably unobstructed, you tiptoe back to your bedroom much more carefully than you left it. Vernon enters from the opposite doorway at the same time, jumping slightly the second he notices you. You ignore his frightened eyes and glance down at the crisp, white towel he’s clutching.

You open your mouth to suggest anything otherwise, but he beats you to it. His eyebrows shoot up his forehead as his mouth widens outwards, a self-aware rectangle. Otherwise expressionless, he lets go of an atonal, “Aaaaaaah”, that tells you he’s caught on.

He says nothing else before turning around and walking back the way he came. You have to bite down on your lips to keep from cackling.

That one’s mine, you think, still as infatuated as you were at the start. I chose that one.

While he’s gone, you try not to move, not to breathe too heavily. Vernon said he didn’t care about a mess, but when he said it, he was speaking theoretically with his hand on your tit. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d spoken recklessly with your body melting under his touch.

As far as you know, he hasn’t had any experience with this mess in practice. He could wind up finding you about as sexy as you currently feel — to wit: not at all. So, erring on the side of caution, you turn yourself into a statue and wait for the boy and his towel to find you again.

When he comes back, he plants a drive-by kiss on your unsuspecting mouth before skirting right around you. With shocking finesse, he grabs the corners of the — thankfully — black towel, which unfurls in the seconds before he flicks it upwards. It lands perfectly in the center of the bed, flat without needing to be fussed with.

“Wow,” he mutters to himself, taking in his clean work with raised eyebrows.

The impressed look is still on his face when he turns around, but you don’t have time to comment on his feat because he laughs as soon as he sees you.

“Kinda look like Donald Duck with the whole top-on, bottom-off situation.”

I chose this one?

You pout with an indignant gasp, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not wearing a sailor hat, so…. bad analogy. Rude, even.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he snakes his arms around your waist and pulls you in close. You stumble a little on your way into him; the jury’s still out about whether it’s his hushed tone or the sudden movement that trips you up.

Between his thumb and index finger, he gently captures your chin. You follow along with his unspoken direction, tilt your face up to meet his. This close, you can see your own reflection in his pupils, black dilating against the warmest shade of brown you’ve ever seen.

Vernon takes a moment of silence as he takes in your features, and he studies them so intently that his eyebrows crinkle on their own. He sighs, sounding so completely serious. “You might get prettier every time I look at you.”

It’s unclear if you’re melting, or gushing; and if it’s the latter, you can’t say which biological process is at fault. Thankfully, the hand at the small of your back keeps your weak knees from buckling when his lips brush over yours.

“Even if you’re dressed like Winnie the Pooh.” 

You feel him smirk even before you hear him laugh at his own joke. Then, you feel his hand slide down to cup your bare cheek, squeezing affectionately. You want to tell him that this analogy is still inaccurate because you’re not wearing a crop-top; but he gently instructs you to ditch the sweatshirt and get on the bed, and your body moves automatically. No questions asked.

Carefully, you crawl up onto the mattress, then you center yourself on the towel. Still on your knees, you tilt your head curiously and ask, “Where do you want me?”

“Anywhere,” he breezes, pulling his shirt off and tossing it onto the dresser nearby. He amends, “Everywhere. All the time, and then some.”

“Better be careful,” you tease. “Talking like that might have consequences. You may never be able to get rid of me.”

His joggers are the next to go. Your sanity follows shortly thereafter, hungry eyes lingering on the imprint of his cock underneath his boxer briefs. You have to clamp your mouth shut to keep from drooling.

Brown eyes sparkling, he steps closer to you, kicking his pants aside as he goes. “Be careful,” he echoes, not a hint of cockiness to be found — just softness. “Saying it like a threat doesn’t make me wish it’s not a promise.”

I choose this one.

Crossing all the way to you, Vernon reaches the bed and climbs up with significantly more grace than you did. The mattress dips under his weight as he kneels right in front of you, mirroring your posture and causing your stomach to flip with anticipation.

You can’t help yourself; you lick your lips and look up at him with half-lidded eyes. “Naked, please. Like, right now.”

“Damn, I gotta do this myself?” Incredulous, he holds his hands up while glancing pointedly down at his underwear, then back at you. 

You arch an eyebrow, unfazed. 

“Depends.” You shrug. “Do you want to keep them? Because I really will rip them off of you.”

He concedes quickly; he always does. Sighing, he shakes his head and tuts, “Sex-crazed monster,” before pushing his briefs down his thighs. His length hangs heavy between you, but you swear you can feel its perfect ache inside you already.

You have a one-track mind, so you don’t hesitate to reach out and wrap your hand around him. A groan crawls up from the bottom of your chest when you feel the weighted warmth of his cock in your palm. You don’t hold that back, either.

“Fuck,” he sighs, head tilting as far backwards as it’ll go. Unexpectedly, he laughs. He doesn’t catch the quizzical look you shoot him, though he explains himself anyway, “Your hands are so fucking cold, but it feels so good.”

Swiping your thumb over his tip, you spread the pre-cum you find there down his shaft and stroke him slowly. He grows harder with every gentle squeeze, every pass of your fist. 

“We’re learning a lot of new shit about each other today.” You lean forward to pepper kisses across his collarbones. The hum of your mouth against his skin when you talk makes his cock twitch in your hand. “You might have a temperature kink and a thing for Winnie the Pooh.”

He snorts, nowhere near serious, “Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me,” you counter smugly, and you do mean it.

Vernon tilts his head forward to stare back at you. You’re already turning into a puddle, but if the look he gives you says anything, it’s that your melting isn’t enough for him. His voice is low and velvet-lined when he responds, “How about I just make you cum instead?”

“That could work, yeah.” You shrug.

He runs the pads of his fingers down each side of your waist to your hips, then back again; and each time he does it, you shiver. Reflexively, your back arches, chest pressing against his.

At this, he smirks, “It could? Maybe?”

“We can workshop it.”

“Or,” Vernon so generously offers, “You can turn around and lay down on your stomach. You know, if that’s sufficient.”

It’s not until you whip around and flop down onto the towel that you realize you never responded with words. Oh well. You figure he gets the point, judging by the quiet laughter you hear as he settles with his knees on either side of your upper thighs.

You don’t know what his next move will be — you don’t care, either, as long as he moves in your direction — so you don’t anticipate his palms flattening against your bare back, applying perfect pressure with his thumbs while he rubs away the soreness at the very base of your torso.

“Oh, shit,” you moan, eyes fluttering shut as the heels of his hands work out the tension in your muscles. “Have you always been good at this?”

You feel his chest brush against your shoulder blades when he hovers over you. Against the nape of your neck, he murmurs, “Nope.”

He kisses down your spine, mouth trailing after his hands as they work their way back down your body.

“Lemme guess — you read an article? Studied up?”

You get a snicker, then an affirmative hum, then another kiss. This time, it’s at the curve of your spine, just above your ass. Seconds later, he’s kneading the doughy flesh of your cheeks until your whole fucking body tingles.

That’s when it hits you:

Under normal circumstances, Vernon would be face-first in your pussy by now. Devouring you in earnest, like he’s starving. He can’t do that now — and you don’t blame him — so he’s making up for what you both view as a loss.

God, you want him.

One hand disappears from you, but you don’t have to guess where it went. You can hear the barely-there hiss of breath through his teeth when he takes his cock in that hand; as well as the very faint shift of his palm while he pumps himself.

“You’re gonna have to navigate, baby. I dunno how sensitive you are like this, what’s too much — any of that, so you need to tell me how you want me to move.”

Suddenly dizzy over how badly you need him, all you can muster is a nod. Vernon must want a verbal acknowledgment, though, because he leans back over you with one hand bearing his weight beside your head.

He kisses your shoulder and urges you, “Please say so if you need to stop or switch it up. Don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.”

“I will,” you breathe. “But I can’t even articulate how much I need you inside of me right now, so please — pretty please — fuck me.”

The tip of his nose bumps your temple affectionately. Right beside your ear, he teases, “With a cherry on top?” And it vibrates down your whole goddamn spine.

“Vernon!” You whine, burying your face in the comforter. It’s muffled, but you warn him nonetheless, “Don’t make me come back there.”

“Aish. Calm down, sex monster.”

The instinct to twist around and glare at him over your shoulder is strong, but every feral urge you feel is stronger. So, when he tells you to spread yourself open for him and tilt your hips back, you do so without even a hint of complaining.

With the crown of his cock slipping through your folds, inching towards your entrance, you hear him curse under his breath. Suddenly self-conscious, you finally crane your neck to the side and glance back at him. 

“We don’t have to,” you whisper. “If it’s gross and you don’t want to anymore, I get it —”

He balks at your suggestion without letting so much as a beat pass. “None of that, sweetheart; no spiraling. I’m just trying to figure out the logistics of, like… how to survive how good this already feels.”

Struck dumb, all you can muster is a peep, “Oh?”

“Shit, yeah.” His response comes in a low groan. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

It’s a good call on his part, a suggestion you’re glad to have taken, because the pressure of him entering you is intense enough to knock the wind out of you. Empty lungs likely would’ve led to your untimely demise.

You whimper, already overwhelmed with the combination of pain and pleasure; the best kind of ache. The little, breathy moans must freak him out, however, because his fingertips caress your waist as he checks in: “This okay?”

Your limp arm lifts off the mattress, which you’ve melted fully into, and you form a circle with your index finger and thumb to indicate that you’re okay. The light is bright fucking green; you’ve just maxed out your capacity for speech.

Vernon continues his slow thrust forward, giving you ample time to adjust to his size.

“Oh my god,” he grunts, “This is — shit, I can’t believe we haven’t done this before. If I knew how good you’d feel like this, I wouldn’t have waited around for you to ask me.”

That hits like a truck.

He was waiting on you. 

You spent months convincing yourself that he’d need to be convinced, and chickening out before you could raise the idea. Months, and months, and months, of craving him during your werewolf transformation; wasting away over a shitty assumption that Vernon is anything like the people you’ve been with before. 

Christ. 

His credit for putting up with you is long overdue.

Too tongue-tied to speak any of that out loud, you settle for a summary that you hope conveys the message: “I love you so fucking much.”

Mindful of how deep it will push him into your cunt, he leans down over you carefully. Weight balanced on his knees and forearms, he envelopes you in his body heat, trails kisses across your shoulder, and echoes your words back at you between each one.

“Is this too much?” He whispers, rolling his hips slowly.

You feel him everywhere, with every drag of his cock along your walls; and you can’t tell where that throbbing sensation is coming from, him or you. 

You shake your head and sigh, “‘s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Like he knows it’ll unravel you, his large hand comes to rest over the back of yours. His fingers slip through the spaces between and squeeze you much more gently than the vice grip you hold on the bedding below you. He keeps holding you — just like this — through every movement.

The sensation of being this surrounded, this loved, this whole crashes over you like a wave and knocks you off balance.

“I’m so close,” you pant, voice as ragged as your breathing. There’s nothing that he isn’t already giving you with every deep, deliberate thrust into your heat; but you beg nonetheless, “Please, please, please —”

His speed doesn’t increase, but the intensity does. The smack of his hips colliding with your ass does, too, and you feel it reverberating in your bones. Buried as far inside of you as he can be, cock tip kissing your cervix with every high tide, length rolling across your g-spot with every low.

You cum so hard — so completely, invoking every single muscle you have — that you forget how to breathe. With a choked-out gasp, you squeeze your eyes shut and let your orgasm devastate you. 

“Fuck!”

Vernon gets caught up in the current, too, grinding desperately against you until he’s swept up in your wake. You feel him twitch inside you as his release floods, leaving you so lost in his warmth that you feel boneless underneath him.

His face winds up hidden in the crook of your neck, somewhere amidst the baby hairs that cling to the sheen of your sweat. You feel his lips fluttering against your skin when he laughs, “Oh…my god.”

“Mmphf.” You nod weakly in agreement. Beyond blissed, your body still tingles too much to move.

Slurring, you add, “‘s good. ‘s really…”

The rest of that thought dissolves into something between a moan and a yawn.

Just as tired, Vernon pats your ass cheek affectionately and mumbles, “Well said. No notes.”

You tilt your head far enough to free your face from the sheets. When you do, you find your boyfriend fighting a losing battle to keep his eyes open. In the rare seconds he can, he looks back at you in a daze that seems even more adoring than it does fuck-drunk.

“I think I need to hibernate now,” you announce. “Think you just fucked me so well that I need to take a sabbatical.”

He counter-offers, “Shower first, then sabbatical?”

You wiggle so that you can pull your joint hands to your mouth. You can’t kiss him properly while he’s laid out on top of you, but you can press your lips to the back of his hand and hope he feels how much of you that you pour into it.

“Okay, but, like…. who’s carrying who?”

#svt #vernon #vernon chwe #hansol vernon chwe #vernon smut #svt smut #vernon fic #svt fic #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #vernon x you #vernon x y/n #vernon imagines #vernon scenarios #seventeen #svt fluff #svt imagines #svt scenarios #kvanity #jade writes #re: tidal.

[wqnwoos]

“vernon,” you declare, with a level of magnanimity you only reach when it’s past 11pm. “i have a question for you. of the philosophical kind.”

your best friend glances up through the brown strands that fall over his eyes. “okay,” he agrees half-dubious, half-intrigued. “hit me.”

you sit heavily on the couch beside him, throwing your head against the back of it, staring up at the ceiling with deep, ponderous solemnity. “why is it called being in love?”

vernon considers. “i don’t think that’s very philosophical,” he says, after a moment. “the google definition of philosophy is the fundamental nature of knowledge, existence and reality.”

you cast him a look. “how the fuck do you know the google definition of philosophy? just like that?” he shrugs. you sigh, affectionately. “of course you do.”

there’s silence for a moment, broken only by the soft hum of the washing machine in your other room. your roommate is gone for the weekend; it’s just you, and now vernon, because he knows you don’t like being alone at night.

finally, you speak. “you didn’t answer my question.”

vernon doesn’t miss a beat. “it wasn’t philosophical. i felt misled.”

he’s being annoying. “you’re being annoying.” your best friend is so annoying, but you think the most annoying thing about him is that you can’t kiss him to shut him up.

“besides,” you say, “isn’t love our knowledge, existence and reality?”

slightly more thoughtful silence, broken by — “damn,” vernon says, impressed. “you got me there. that was deep.”

“right?” your enthusiasm with yourself makes him smile, a crooked and charming lift of his lips. you’re still talking, admirably excited and animated for two in the morning. “what i mean is like… why can’t you be in anything else? you can’t be in friendship.”

vernon nods, slowly. “like us, you mean.”

“yeah. like us.” you pause, hesitating on the edge of what you’re about to say. “we’re not in friendship, nobody says that.”

he’s smiling, leaning back against the couch. “i mean, we can start saying it, if you want.”

“i’d rather say something else.” you squeeze your eyes shut, because suddenly this is a lot more daunting than you’d thought, and your hands are getting kind of clammy, but you’re committed now, and so — “i’d rather say we’re in love.”

silence for the third time tonight, and this one makes you want to implode. “eventually, i mean!” you’re already rushing your words, tripping them over each other in your hurry to force them out. “i’m not like, in love with you right now. maybe. nearly, i think. and i don’t —”

when vernon interrupts you, it doesn’t feel like an interruption, it’s so soft. “did you… did you set up this whole conversation just to confess to me like that?”

you open your eyes to look at him, sheepish, apprehensive, embarrassed, all at once. “maybe?” and then you’re rambling again: “because there are some flaws in my argument, you know, because technically you can be in acquaintance with someone or — ”

vernon interrupts you for a second time, which is so unlike him, but you’re not going to point that out. not when his hands are cupping your cheeks, his lips are brushing yours and he’s smiling as he kisses you, soft and sweet and honeyed.

and he pulls back just the barest inch to murmur, with your noses bumping and eyelashes brushing and the cheesiest smiles on both your faces — “i’m nearly in love with you too.”

an / u will literally have to pry friend 2 lovers vernon out of my cold dead hands. sorry i can’t stop writing it but also i’m not sorry at all

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao @smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee @kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager @qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng @strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura

#vernon fluff #vernon x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #vernon fic #vernon scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic

[suhnshinehaos]

' ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE ' | c. hansol

synopsis : the one where you get into an arranged marriage with your childhood best friend vernon, but neither of you seem to mind that much pairing : vernon x gn!reader genre/s : mini smau, non-idol au, fluff, little bit of angst

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

from reese, with love <3

yes the title is inspired by that one song from the shrek soundtrack hehe anyways, ik i've been mia and i have a series to update buuuut life's been very chaotic for me lately and i just got hit with big vernon brainrot ;-; i really hope you enjoyed reading this !! i would love to know what you think, and if you want to be part of the taglist for this mini series, just send me an ask or reply to this post ! hope you're all doing well :)

#🔖 — accidentally in love! #seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #seventeen smau #seventeen sm aus #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen series #vernon fluff #vernon fic #vernon scenarios #vernon imagines #vernon smau #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt smau

[fairyhaos]

[13:16 PM] — hansol .

hbd @weird-bookworm ! 500 words, est. rs, fluff

“I wanna make you a flower crown,” you say abruptly, a simple passing comment whilst the two of you are laying on the couch in your apartment.

Hansol blinks, and tilts his head. “A flower crown?” he repeats. “For me?”

“Yeah. Look, aren't they so cute?” you sit up a little, showing Hansol the Instagram reel you were watching of some couple making flower crowns in a field.

He observes the video silently, and then nods. “Huh. Cute.”

You pout at the lukewarm response, settling back down so you're lying in his lap once more. “I think you'd look cute with a flower crown. With you and your… face.”

Without looking up from your phone, you gesture vaguely up at him, and Hansol chuckles a little, shifting so that you're resting comfortably on his thigh. He pats your hair lightly.

“My face, hm?” he says, the teasing clear in his tone, and you groan.

“I take it back. You don't have a face.”

“Uh, what?”

You don't talk about the flower crowns again, the conversation blending seamlessly into a different, random topic, but Hansol still thinks about it.

Of course he does, because it's you who brought it up, and he's always thinking about you. He doesn't know why he's so fixated on the flower crowns, though, because you're always proposing cute things to do with him that never end up happening, but for some reason, he really wants to make the flower crown thing come true.

Mostly because he thinks you'd look rather pretty with a halo of flowers, but also because he knows it would make you happy.

“Hey,” he says, after a few moments where your bright voice doesn't fill the space between you two. “Do you still want to do the flower crowns?”

“Hm?” you glance up at him, thinking for a short second because you'd honestly forgotten that you'd proposed the idea. “Oh! Yeah, I do."

Hansol grins down at you, a lopsided quirk of the lips as he gently adjusts you so that you're sitting up properly. “Yeah?”

He gets up from the sofa, and you watch bewilderedly as he grabs his keys.

“W—Hansol, where are you going?” you ask, rising from the couch as he makes his way to the front door.

“To get you flowers to make flower crowns,” Hansol says, like it's obvious, his eyes so round and sweet that it makes you want to laugh, endeared.

“Really?” you say, smiling. “Wait, are you really?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “It's no biggie. I'll find the nearest flower shop and buy flowers for you. Then you can make all the flower crowns you want.”

That makes you laugh properly, the light, rosy pink feeling welling up inside you and you pad over to peck him quickly on the lips.

“Well, hurry up then,” you say, teasing. “I need to see how good my boyfriend looks in a flower crown.”

Hansol smiles, and leans over to kiss you properly, soft and full of love.

#fairyhaos.works #k-labels #svt #seventeen #vernon #hansol #seventeen fic #vernon fic #svt fic #svt vernon #svt x reader #vernon x reader #hansol x reader #vernon chwe #chwe hansol #vernon x you #hansol x you #seventeen x you #vernon x y/n #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen vernon #seventeen hansol #svt hansol #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #vernon fluff #hansol fluff #vernon imagines #seventeen imagines

[wheeboo]

laundry day | hansol vernon chwe

SYNOPSIS. in which it's laundry day and you're in a bit of an embarrassing predicament. PAIRING. hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader (however, sorta implied that reader is more leaning toward fem) GENRE. fluff, humour?, best friends/roommates to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, vernon is checking reader out lowkey, reader embarrassingly wears hello kitty underwear i don't make the rules, ik vernon is mainly chill but in this they bicker <3, this was very stupid n silly lmfao WORD COUNT. 1.6k

requested from @weird-bookworm: lemme be annoying already— noni + #16 and #59 from list 1!! - #16: "You hugged me like your personal pillow." - #59: "Laundry day doesn’t mean walking around in your underwear, but for you, I’ll make an exception."

notes: i'm never good with writing humour but i thought of this stupid scenario and idk how i feel BYEE (cuz ur girl lowkey struggled on figuring out how to put #59 in the story lmao) tysm for submitting this in sky <3 and ty @bananabubble for reading it over for me!

join the 2k celebration!

You are so stupid.

So fucking stupid.

How could you let yourself get carried away in loading all your laundry that you forgot to save a pair of pants to wear in the meantime?

You replay everything in your head: your overflowing, neglected laundry basket, the utter satisfaction you felt after loading it... right up until the moment you realised every single pair of pants you own was now basically swimming around in a goddamn whirlpool, and now you're left sporting nothing but your underwear and a shirt that didn't offer much coverage than expected.

You let out an annoyed groan, burying your face into your hands and mentally slapping yourself in the face. The chill of your room sends a trail of goosebumps running up the exposed skin of your legs. There really was nothing you could do but wait for your laundry to finish.

Then your head shoots back up, and maybe your bedroom lights up a bit brighter at your metaphorical lightbulb moment, because you think of Vernon. He's the only other option you have.

Tip-toeing up to your closed door, a bit of hesitancy gnaws at you for being so dumb, before you yell out, "Vernon!"

He's probably in the living room right now𑁋you can overhear the faint music of the record player the two of you snagged at this vintage thrift store the other week. A very good and lucky find, nonetheless.

Taking another (and maybe regrettable) deep breath, you call out again, a little louder this time. "Vernon! Can you hear me?"

The music seems to dip down slightly, and after a moment, the record stops spinning, replaced by the sound of footsteps approaching the door. You brace yourself for the door to swing open to reveal the embarrassing state you're in right now, but it doesn't.

Instead, you hear Vernon's voice respond to you through the door, "Yeah?"

"Uh..." You bite your lip because you can't believe you're about to ask this. "Do you have, um... a pair of pants or shorts I can borrow? I'll give it back to you tomorrow."

For a moment you think he didn't hear you because it's completely silent on the other side of the door, and it does absolutely nothing at calming down your racing heart. You see, you probably should be fine with walking around in your underwear with Vernon because he's your best friend and roommate and he definitely would not judge at all, but it's simply not that simple𑁋

"Did you, like, spill Monster on yourself again?" Vernon asks casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world that you would do (it's happened one too many times).

"Yes, I mean, no, I mean𑁋look, just fetch me a pair and I'll bring it back to you later?"

"Uh, yeah, about that..." He pauses. "I'm wearing my only pair right now since you loaded yours first."

You really should've considered that being best friends with Vernon meant collectively sharing the brain cell of procrastinating when it comes to doing your laundry. Great, just absolutely fantastic. This was very much how you wanted your day to go. Perhaps this is why you're best friends, after all.

"Well, shit," You murmur, more to yourself but Vernon hears it anyway.

"Look, I'm sure it's not that bad, right?" Does he seriously still think you spilled Monster on yourself? "You could probably just𑁋"

You can hardly act by the time the doorknob twists and Vernon peeks his head around the door. But the second he catches sight of you, his eyes flicker over you, before he quickly averts his gaze to the Radiohead poster on your wall. Was it the lighting in your room that's making his face look pink?

You stand there awkwardly, suddenly feeling so exposed in front of him as if some sort of gigantic spotlight was shining down on you. It's not like you haven't been half-naked around each other before, but this feels different... somehow. You don't know why, or maybe you don't want to know.

A cough erupts from Vernon, breaking the sudden silence.

"Oh, wow, um..." He toys with the black hoodie around his head. "I didn't look. I swear."

His eyes dart everywhere except back to you, lingering on the Radiohead poster, the slightly askew picture frame on your desk, just anywhere but you. You don’t know whether to feel relieved or embarrassed.

"Ugh, I'm so stupid." You run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And I have this meeting for work in an hour and I know the laundry won't be done by then. I'm actually screwed."

Vernon thinks for a minute. "You can't like... virtually attend the meeting?

"No."

"Or it can't be postponed?"

"Nope."

"What if I file you as a missing person to the police?"

"You're seriously no help, dude," You say, giving him a light shove to the shoulder, but it's hard to suppress the curve to your lips and the small chuckle that leaves your mouth when you see him fall back dramatically.

Vernon snorts lightly. "Well, it's probably better than showing up to work in your Hello Kitty underwear𑁋"

"You said you didn't look, you idiot!" You exclaim furiously, and Vernon literally does not see the way a pillow practically spawns in your grasp and flinging toward him before he can even react. The pillow hits him square in the chest, causing him to stumble backward with a surprised yelp. "Oh my god, just report me missing at this point."

Vernon just laughs as he catches his breath to stand back up, grabbing the pillow up the floor and lifting it up like a shield as if to defend himself from you. Your face is burning brighter than the lava lamp glowing on your bedside table.

"This is so embarrassing," You mutter sheepishly, wanting to unleash another defeated groan again. "I can't believe I'm this stupid to forget to..."

"You're cute."

"...and then I'm probably going to get fired𑁋what?"

Vernon tosses the pillow back onto your bed and clears his throat.

"I said you're really dumb."

That is not what he said.

For a second, the disastrous situation seems to lighten up just a little bit, and your heart is doing some intense, unrhythmic tap dance against your ribs. You heard exactly what he said𑁋that he called you cute in this ungodly predicament𑁋and now he's trying to brush it off?

Vernon cracks a teasing, boyish smile. "And stupid, yeah. You're not wrong about that."

You open your mouth to retort, but the words get caught in your throat, almost like a choked sound coming out instead. So you point an interrogative finger and step closer to him (and yes, still in your underwear), eyebrows furrowing together.

"You called me cute," You state, all firm and serious now.

Vernon's playful look falters slightly, expression shifting to something a bit more guarded now. He rubs a hand at the back of his neck, that nervous habit you've always found sort of endearing throughout time. Perhaps there's a bit more meaning to it now.

The few moments of silence that follow is absolutely suffocating. You can't even tell if time is passing by quicker or slower as the two of you stand there, shifting this uncomfortable weight between both of your feet.

"Yeah," Vernon says simply, quietly. "I did."

You nearly want to laugh for some reason, but you can feel the nerves tickle up your spine. "I'm standing here in fucking Hello Kitty underwear and you think I'm cute?"

You can visibly see the way the lump in his throat tightens as he swallows, his eyes flickering uncertainly between you and the floor.

"Look you just... You caught me off-guard. Like... laundry day doesn't mean walking around in your underwear and all that," Vernon explains, in a tone like he's trying to reason with you. "but for you, I'll make an exception because𑁋"

"𑁋because I'm cute?"

"Because you're so stupidly cute from freaking out when I could just go to the store right now and buy you a pair of pants to wear." Then he sucks in a breath. "And yeah, the Hello Kitty underwear is cute, I guess."

You feign a shocked, traitorous look to your face. "You guess?! It's Hello Kitty, man."

"Dude, do you want me to snatch you some pants to wear or not? Because I'm deadass about the missing persons report," Vernon asks, half-annoyed yet somewhat half-amused. The twitch to his lips doesn't go unnoticed. And the voice of him calling you cute just minutes earlier also doesn't go unheard of too.

You wear a cringy, exaggerated pout to your lips. "Please."

Vernon's face contorts in slight disgust at that. "Please don't do that eve𑁋I'm leaving." And before you can say anything, he's turning around and leaving your room.

You hear the clinking of keys, assuming that Vernon is getting ready to leave to presumably retrieve you a pair of pants to wear for the day. You step up to your doorway to peek into the living room.

"Hey, I owe you!" You holler out to him. "Let me know how much it costs and I'll pay you back."

"No need," Vernon calls back over his shoulder.

"Come on, I'll feel bad," You insist, leaning against the doorframe. "I'll do anything, I swear."

Now that seems to intrigue him, and you watch the way Vernon slowly turns back to you, and maybe you're starting to regret ever saying that to him.

"Okay," he says lightly. "We're watching a movie tonight."

"A movie? What are we..." Then your eyes widen in realisation. "We are not watching Shrek again. I'll end up falling asleep on you because we've rewatched too much."

Vernon just shrugs. "Yeah, like last time. You hugged me like your personal pillow, remember?"

"I..." You stop yourself from responding immediately, feeling a flush creeping up your cheeks at the memory. "Fine, whatever. If I fall asleep again, you can just wake me up this time."

A low, thoughtful hum runs out of Vernon's mouth. "I mean, I really don't mind if you fall asleep, you know. If you're tired and stuff."

You blink up at him dazedly. "Really?"

"Yeah," he answers, and the corners of his lips lift up ever so slightly. "You're cute when you fall asleep on me, anyway."

another note: guys idk what i just wrote lol its like 90% dialogue n rushed HAHSADSA

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziesmei @mirxzii @bookyeom @parkjennykim @melodicrabbit @bewoyewo @honglynights @bananabubble @treehouse-mouse @tanya596carat @starshuas @totomoshi

#wheeboo's 2k event! #k-labels #caratsland #caratlibrary #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #vernon imagines #vernon fluff #vernon x reader #vernon fic #chwe hansol imagines #chwe hansol fluff #chwe hansol x reader #hansol vernon chwe imagines #hansol vernon chwe fluff #hansol vernon chwe x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt fic #seventeen #svt

[spamgyu]

RED STRING THEORY // Hansol x Reader Oneshot

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates weren't real. This wasn't a fantasy world... But somehow, the world wanted them together. Giving them one too many chances to be together. Almost as if there was a little string that connected them to one another PAIRING: Idol!Hansol x Reader GENRE: A very LONG fluff.

There is a popular belief that there is one person you are destined to be with regardless of time, place, and circumstances.

A person is born in to this world connected to their other half by this invisible red string. No matter how knotted and jumbled this string got, it was never broken – because in the end, it will always be them that would be destined for each other.

Y/n had grown up with her grandmother telling her and her older sister this folklore; standing firm on her belief that her and their grandfather were destined lovers and had proclaimed that one day, the two girls would find their way to theirs.

The two had taken their grandmother's words a with a grain of salt. More now that their father and mother had a very messy divorce, leaving the two to be solely under their mother's care.

But the older woman didn't care if the two girls huffed and puffed about her tales that she told each summer they paid a visit. A regular occurrence of their mother shipping them out to her home country; claiming it was good for them to be in touch with their roots instead of rotting away in their rooms during summer break.

Plus, it was far better than making the journey to Chicago where their father had relocated with his new girlfriend.

It was just like old times.

Except, now they were no longer required to have their grandparents accompany them as they explored the large city. They had the freedom to run about the streets, spending hours on end at the computer shop, biking along the river, and spending all their allowance at the local convenience stores.

"I don't think we have enough money." Y/n looked down at the basket of snacks her and her older sister have filled.

Her sister agreed with a nod. "Put back some chips."

Y/n pouted, reaching down to grab three bags of honey butter chips she had carelessly thrown in; trudging to the next aisle where they had been placed.

"Are you going to buy all that?" A young boy no older than fifteen asked, pointing at the bags in her arms. Unlike the boys from the neighborhood, he had looked like someone from back home. She took in his disheveled appearance, his hair was almost like a helmet on his head; the sweat on his forehead causing some of the strands to stick together.

Yuck.

Blinking slowly, y/n tilted her head to the side trying to comprehend what he had asked. She knew the language, just not well enough to understand when someone was speaking fast.

He must have grown up here.

"Hello?" He waved his hand to gain her attention.

"Sorry." She mumbled, rushing to place the chips back on the shelf.

"Weirdo." He said underneath his breath, grabbing a bag.

"Excuse me?!"

Eyes growing wide, the boy turned to face her – ears and cheeks red. "Heh?" He flashed a shy grin and peace sign before running away to the front of the store.

Y/n dismissed the small interaction with the young boy – not before ranting to her older sister about how rude he was to someone who was clearly from not the area.

Teens were rude and arrogant at that age anyways.

It was her last day before heading back west when she had another run in with the teen. She was reaching for a can of grape drink when another hand brushed against hers; causing her to quickly retract her hand – mumbling a soft apology and motioning for the person to go ahead.

"Here." He extended his arm to offer the girl the can, recognizing her from weeks ago.

Their first small interaction that had left him flustered as he made his way back to the practice room. He was told specifically by the staff to be careful of how they portrayed themselves during their time outside the green room, in case they were to debut.

No future idol wants negative stories from strangers as a new comer. One story can easily cause a snowball effect and become not only the downfall of one member but the group as a whole.

He knew their conversation wasn't much of a headline, but he also knew how easily the public villainized a celebrity for something so miniscule.

He did not want to risk it.

The young teen had gone back nearly every day before practice in hopes to run into the girl, wanting to change whatever impression he had originally made.

"Thanks." Y/n pulled a tight lipped smile before turning her heel to head for the register.

"Sorry about the other time!" He called out.

"I don't care." She called back, handing the cashier the change she had fished out from her pocket – not bothering to look back at the dumb struck boy stood at the refrigerated drinks aisle.

Crisis averted.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

It had been years since he had been back in the city where his parents had met. Not to mention years since he had given a proper break.

Thanks to their group's success over the past two years since debuting, they were granted a month and half of down time. No practices, no variety show guesting, no filming.

Just quiet time.

The first in a very long time.

Each and every member agreed that they would use the first half of this break to work in their team and the latter half with their own families.

Vernon could not be anymore grateful that his mom had decided this meant flying back New York for a change of scenery and pace.

For once since his debut, he felt like a normal teen; waking up at noon, exploring the city by himself with no set schedules, and eating whatever his heart desired.

"You're staring." His sister nudged him, breaking his gaze from the girl behind the counter who was far too busy taking everyone else's order to notice that he was practically burning a hole into her skin.

"She looks familiar, doesn't she?" He nodded to the girl.

His sister follower his eyes before giving him a look. "No she doesn't."

"I swear, I've seen her before."

Sofia snorted, rolling her eyes at her brother.

He could be a dits at times.

"You wish." She took a step towards the counter, placing her order.

"And for you?" The girl smiled, using her customer service voice that she had gotten down to T since applying for the cafe.

"Oh uh–" He glanced up at the menu, scratching the back of his neck. He had become too preoccupied trying to figure out why the girl in front of him had looked like someone he had seen before that he had completely forgotten the reason why he and his sister decided to drop by in the first place.

Coffee.

"He'll have an iced mocha." His little sister interjected, seeing that her brother seemed still be buffering by her side.

"$10.78 please."

"Vernon." Sofia nudged him yet again, this time a little harder, signaling for him to pay.

"Right." He cleared his throat, digging into his back pocket to pull out the plastic card from his wallet. "Here you go."

"Is he okay?" The girl joked, taking the card from his had.

"He's allergic to girls."

"Am not!" He cried, now fully present.

"Okay well then don't be a freak."

Y/n awkwardly laughed at the two's sudden bickering, handing the form of payment back. "Drinks will be ready at the side."

"Thanks– wait, do I know you?"

"Oh my god." Sofia grumbled, slapping her hand on her forehead in embarrassment.

"Um.... No." Y/n replied, coming out as more of a question. "Are you trying to hit on me?"

"Wha– No! Oh my god no!" His eyes wide, shaking his head quickly.

He was never good with girls.

Or strangers.

Unless they were his fans; all thanks to their media training and fan service lessons.

She raised her brows. "Should I be offended by how quickly you said that?"

"Oh my god oh my god, let's go please you're embarrassing me." Sofia cried, pushing her brother towards the direction where the rest of the cafe customers were stood, waiting for their drinks. "I'm really sorry about him!"

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Curiosity had gotten the best of him and he was set on figuring out why the girl at the coffee shop looked familiar – dropping by another time.

"Hi familiar stranger." She greeted as he walked into the semi-empty shop, a glaring difference from the other day.

Granted, he stopped by during hours where most would be busy at work or school.

"What can I get you today?"

"Iced mocha please." He said confidently this time.

"Anything else?"

"That's it." Vernon pulled a tight lipped smile, handing her his card.

He was so sure he would have been able to figure it out by now; unable to help himself from staring at her.

Not in a creepy way of course.

No. He was not a creep.

Just annoyed that his brain can't seem to put a finger on why her features looked like someone he has seen before.

He hadn't been in the states in years. Let alone has he been to this particular coffee shop.

But why was she so familiar?

Before he could walk away, he found himself asking the question aloud. Again.

"Are you sure I don't know you?"

"Are you sure you're not hitting on me?" She countered.

He shook his head. "No, I– you just look like someone I know."

Maybe she was a fan.

From a fan sign.

What if she was playing a sick prank, wanting to have her own little cliche moment of bumping into their celebrity crush so that they could organically fall in love with each other.

Not that he was in love.

Nor did he like the girl.

He didn't even know her.

She's pretty. Very pretty– but– oh my god he's staring at her. Shake it off.

"Do you go to fan signs?"

Oh he is about to blow his cover.

"Yeah, totally. I just went to one in Brooklyn– are you stupid?" She replied sarcastically.

She didn't live under a rock. She knew what fan signs were, having heard of them from her cousins when she would visit her grandparents for the summer.

"Taking that as a no." He said slowly.

"Is this some sort of pick up line. You're going to say I look like one of those idols you see when you go to fan signs? It's a really dum–"

He let out a laugh.

If she had only known.

"I told you I'm not hitting on you."

"Says the guy that keeps asking why I look familiar, in a really weird way, I may add."

This was hopeless.

Why did he think he would be able to figure it out this time around?

It was as if there was an itch in his his brain he couldn't seem to scratch. But considering there was no progress in getting any clues as to why the girl looked like some one he had previous encounter with, he'd just have to learn to ignore it.

"I just– it's bugging me– It's whatever." He mumbled, walking over to his drink that was waiting at the counter.

"If it helps, my mom said I have an average face!" She called out.

Little did he know she would later find out who he was, all thanks to her mom's need to watch any and all content that was happening back east.

She had nearly choked on her water that night when his face appeared on screen as her mom watched the latest episode of Happy Together; earning strange looks from both her mom and sister.

Y/n wanted to so badly let the two know that she had not only one but two encounters with the boy on the screen a few months back – for street creds of course.

But she knew they wouldn't believe her.

No one would have.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Moving was one thing.

Y/n didn't mind moving.

Moving to different country.

That was another story.

Due to her grandfather's recent passing, y/n's mother thought it was best to relocate back to their home country to accompany her now widowed grandmother.

Y/n wanted to be selfish.

She wished she had enough guts to fight to say behind, just as her sister had, and complete her masters with her friends. She wished her mom hadn't been fully educated about the transfer program her university had.

If she had only been born two years earlier like her sister, maybe she could have used the "I have a job here that I can't leave behind." excuse.

Don't get her wrong.

She loved her grandmother, and she would do anything for her.

But asking to up root her whole life, to move all the way across the world to leave behind her friends and her boyfriend, was a lot.

Y/n wanted to complain. She wanted to pout. She wanted to throw a fit, like any other toddler who was told they were not allowed the toy they have been asking for but she knew better.

Y/n sucked it up, hiding her disappointment behind a smile each time she came home from yet another day of classes at the university.

A lifestyle she had yet to adjust to.

Pushing past the mess of people, y/n ran down the stairs of the subway station – afraid of missing the train that was set to arrive in just a minute. She had gotten a little too distracted with the shops along the way and lost track of time, forgetting to account for the endless corridors and staircases she had to travel before reaching her set subway line.

She had nearly reached the last step when she felt someone step on the heel of her sneakers, sending her forward in an instant.

Y/n was fully prepared to make contact with the floor, bracing for impact.

But the pain never came.

Instead, a tight grip on her upper arm held her up just enough for her to regain balance.

"Thank you." Y/n turned to the stranger, reaching up to rub where their hand had once been – in attempts to soothe it.

Thanks to their quick thinking, she had been able to save herself from embarrassment and a possible concussion; but that didn't mean it didn't come with a cost.

She could practically feel the bruise forming on her arm where their fingers once was, wincing at the thought of having to explain to her mom and grandmother why she had a perfect hand print bruise on her upper arm.

"Sorry." He apologized sheepishly, coming out as almost a mumble due to the mask that covered half of his face.

"It's fine."

"I uh– let me give you money for uh– cream?"

She raised her brows. She knew there would be a cultural difference once she had moved to the country, but never had she heard of someone being a little too friendly and offering to buy.... bruise relief cream.

It's just a bruise, anyways.

"No need, oh my god." She shook her head, subconsciously reaching over to stop him from grabbing his wallet from his back pocket; instantly retracting her hand when she noticed him flinching at her touch.

Right, this wasn't the west.

They don't do that here.

"Sorry, I– am not."

"From here?" He finished with a chuckle.

"Yeah..."

"I know. I mean– you sound like my sister from back in the states– That's information I didn't need to share."

"Line 6 is arriving." A perky voice blared through the speakers, interrupting the two.

"Shit. Gotta go, don't worry about the bruise!" She spoke quickly, hurrying over to her platform.

To her surprise, the stranger had hopped on to the same cart as her – instantly spotting his all black outfit paired with black fitted hat from a few seats down.

Sh had tried her best to keep herself pre-occupied, looking down at her phone as she pretended to be interested in her instagram feed – not wanting to look like a stalker. It wasn't that she was interested in him.

She had a boyfriend.

No, she was just.... curious.

Something about his voice seemed... familiar.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

He was in the same cart as her the following day — easily spotting him as he was dressed in the same ensemble. Just different colors.

This time, he wore light washed jeans and a plain white tee. As opposed to yesterday's all black attire. Not to forget the cap that rested low on his head and mask covering the remainder of his features.

He really did not want to be seen.

"How's the arm?" He asked, taking a seat at the now vacant spot next to her.

Y/n lifted the sleeve of her oversized graphic tee to show him the mark he had left behind. "Purple."

"Sorry again." He winced.

"Saved me from cracking my head open." She shrugged. "You been to New York?"

"Huh?"

Y/n gestured to the embroidered team cap he was sporting.

"Oh uh— kinda?"

"Kinda?" She raised her brows.

"I was born out there." Vernon answered hesitantly.

He wasn't sure if his disguise was, if it could even be considered as one, had been good enough to hide who he really was. He wanted to be careful of any and every information he gave out to her, just in case she was a fan of him and his group.

Not that she seemed to hint that she had any sort of idea of who he was... or seemed to care to figure out who she was speaking to under the mask and hat.

Besides, who's ever heard of an idol taking a subway.

In Vernon's defense, he didn't have a license and didn't feel the need to. It was very rare that he needed to be behind the wheel on his own anyways.

"Cool." She nodded. "Me too."

He let out a soft chuckle, finding her poor attempt to make small talk.... humorous...ly cute.

"What brings you out here?"

"My mom."

"Well yeah–"

"No I'm serious," She laughed, realizing he had probably thought she was making a joke about reproduction. xi. "My mom wanted to relocate."

"Oh my god." He groaned putting his head in his hands out of embarrassment before sitting back up and joining her in her fits of laughter.

"What about you?"

"Also my mom.... and dad."

"Cool."

"Cool."

The sound of the train humming along the tracks filled the silence between the two.

She had yet to figure out how to properly interact with strangers, afraid to come off too strong.

"I'm y/n by the way." She hesitantly brought her hand up, unsure if it was appropriate to shake his hand or not.

"Hansol." He took her warm hands in his cold ones, giving it a quick shake — just in case there had been wandering eyes.

"This is me," Y/n allowed for the train to a complete stop before standing from her seat, turning to give the boy one last smile and wave. "I'll see you around I guess"

She never did.

A part of her wished that he was on the same train again the following day, catching herself craning her neck to see if she could spot him in the mess of crowd that had piled in.

She had done this for three days.

Giving up on the fourth.

Why was she so curious? Who makes a friend on a train?

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Y/n had grown to love the place.

Contrary to what she had made herself believe.

Maybe it was that she had finally adjusted to the culture and the lifestyle of the country, or maybe it was that there was no other reason for her to go back – her boyfriend of three years dumping her on a random Tuesday in May, just days before she was set to fly out to visit him.

So much for the stupid red string theory.

Swearing off relationships, y/n chose to focus on her new job; as a Media Marketing Associate at the new leading entertainment company.

She wanted to make her mother proud – just as her older sister has, who was now a Creative Director for Capitol Records.

Y/n wanted to follow her older sister's footsteps.

At least, if it fate allowed it.

Just before clocking out the night before, her team had received word that one person will be removed – claiming that the workflow needed restructuring.

Y/n wasn't stupid. She knew it meant someone was getting fired.

And judging by seniority, and her being a new hire of two months, she knew she would be the one to be let go.

"Morning." She greeted her coworkers with a sigh.

"Don't look too sad, y/n." Soooyun frowned, knowing that she had nothing but words to offer.

"So much for being a marketing director." Y/n pulled a tight lipped smile, reaching over to turn on her computer.

As if it was any use, considering she may have already had her employee access revoked.

She had been fully prepared to pack up her desk by the end of the day, giving her mother a heads up that she may need to cry in her arms once she got home from work.

But fate was on her side.

"No way." She gasped, scanning the email she had opened. "I'm not fired!"

"What?" Sooyun jumped from her seat, walking over to her desk to read over her shoulders. "We are pleased to tell you that you have been selected to join our subsidiary label's marketing tea– this is good news!"

"Oh my god. I thought I was going to be unemployed!" Y/n cried, continuing to scan through the email. "Wait, what floor is PLEDIS?"

"Eight. Good luck. They're a mess." She snickered, walking back to her desk.

"Oh so I might as well have been fired."

"I'm kidding. They're .... working on it."

"I'm drafting my two week notice."

She never drafter her two week notice.

Instead, the department she had been suddenly thrusted into had welcomed her with open arms — despite half of the team having been around since before the label acquisition.

They were all learning the new groove of workflow that HYBE had standardized for a good portion of their subsidiaries' PR and Marketing department, leaning on one another for support during their onboarding.

She had quickly grown to be comfortable with her new team just as she had with the temporary one from two floors above.

"Y/n, it's your time to shine." Her lead grinned, leaning against her desk. "Sales and PR approved of your tour pitch."

"No way." Y/n gasped, her grin matching his.

"I want you to pitch it to the boys."

The grin quickly fell from her face. "No way."

Yn had known each and every boy by name; especially the boy that she had interacted with years back when she was working at the cafe near her home. But she still couldn't help but feel nervous.

She had done minor research on the men she now worked for, but interactions with them in person was different.

Especially now that she was a grown adult with an almost fully developed frontal lobe.

Y/n had yet to meet the group as a whole, having only met Seungcheol and Woozi in passing on the way to the office — tucked far behind the practice room used by the team.

She knew she wanted to move up in the company, meaning that she would be heading meetings regularly. But she had also yet to assimilate to the workplace — let alone the talents she had worked for.

Almost everyone on the team were comfortable with the boys, each having their own stories about how kind and attentive they were to their staff members.

She wanted to ease into it slowly.

Not thrown into the deep end.

Which seemed to have been occurring far more often than she would like.

"Can't I just be the person that clicks the arrow button for the next slide?"

"It's your presentation. You have it memorized."

"I'll teach you."

"I think that will be tough because meeting is in," He glanced down at the silver watch on his arm. "Ten minutes."

Oh she's definitely drafting her two weeks now.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Nervously standing at the end of the very long conference table, y/n fiddled with the hem of her cardigan — waiting for the group of thirteen boys to file in and take a seat.

The growing sound of booming voices grew louder and louder as each seconds passed; signaling their arrival. It was only a matter of milliseconds before they appeared one by one through the doorway — greeting her and Seongho, her team lead who stood beside her.

Of course, he earned chirpier hi's and hello's — being a part of the team for five years now.

Y/n nearly had to fight her eyes from lingering at the him. He had matured entirely, his shoulders now broad, maybe even gotten taller.... and god that jaw.

He looked good.

She quickly averted her eyes down to the device in front of her before anyone caught her stare – which was quite easy as they all seemed quite busy in their own worlds.

Y/n waited until they were situated in their seats, each small conversation finishing as she tapped away on her laptop that was connected to the projector behind her — instantly catching their attention with the bright colors of the mood board she had put together.

She felt like a teacher standing in front of a group of kindergarteners and she felt their gaze on her — some with hands folded in-front and on the table.

Just like kindergarten.

"Hi everyone, name is y/n." She bowed, using her best customer service voice. "I'll be heading today's marketing pitch."

Y/n was about to open her mouth, ready to start with her first slide when a sudden cough attack caught everyone's attention.

It was him.

"You okay?" Mingyu turned to Vernon, letting out a laugh as he patted his back in attempts to soothe him.

"Yeah, swallowed my water wrong." He croaked, earning laughters from everyone.

"Slow down, yeah?" Minghao chuckled.

Vernon nodded, clearing his throat as he adjusted in his seat. "Sorry, uh, y/n please continue."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

She didn't know which she liked more about her job. The pay.... or the free food.

Not a day had gone by where she did not passed up taking trip to the company cafe on the third floor to get her daily caffeine fix and sweet little treat from the pastry selection that was baked fresh every day.

Yeah.... it was definitely the free food.

Especially now that she had been appointed to lead the marketing for the group's Japan leg of the tour.

It was her fourth day in a row that she had made her way down to the cafe for the second time since clocking in – deeming that one iced coffee was not enough.

Unfortunately for her, there was a line of at least eight people ahead of her and only two barista's working the counter.

This was going to take longer than the ten minutes she had told her team.

Unbeknownst to her, he was stood second in line – his eyes immediately spotting her when she had entered the room.

Not that he was looking for her.

She was just very easy to spot.

She dressed differently than the rest of the staff.

Her style still very much influenced by western fashion.

"Y/n." Vernon called from his spot.

His voice was very easy to recognize.

Once she locked eyes with him, he motioned for her to stand next to him – cutting the rest of those who stood behind.

Not that they would complain.

"Thank you." She bowed hesitantly.

Y/n had yet to be comfortable around him and the rest of the boys, despite having had frequent interactions since the meeting she had delivered months ago.

She was his age and he had specified that it was completely fine to address him like a friend.

They all preferred their staff seeing them as coworkers, people that they could be friends with, instead of land mines that they had to carefully tiptoe around.

"We'll be seeing each other a lot and we hope you'll be around as long as we are... So please, don't think you have to treat us like kings." The leader said after the meeting, formally introducing the team as a whole to y/n.

"How's planning going?" He asked, making small talk.

In all the times he had a run in with the girl, he hadn't been able to properly converse with her. Mostly because it was either he had a other members with him, who were far more outgoing and vocal – leading the conversations. Or he just didn't quite have time.

He would see her in the halls, giving her a nod as a form of greeting and a quick smile before rushing to the practice room.

The last time he had a proper one on one with her was a year ago... at the subway station near his parent's home.

Though, it was just him that knew of that interaction.

He planned to tell her one day. Thinking it would be a fun fact to bring up one day.

He just needed to find the right time.

"Really good, actually. Stressful. But good." She beamed, wanting to spill all that she had managed to accomplish since being assigned the project.

"I'm excited to see all that you worked on– you and the team."

Pulling out her phone from her phone pocket, she quickly swiped through her emails – double checking to see if anyone had been peering over their shoulders before showing him the screen.

It was rough draft of the train decal she had managed to secure with the subway system in Japan – promoting their multiple shows.

"Are we gong to be on a train?" He gasped, zooming into the file.

"Yeah, just got it approved this morning." She smiled.

"Whoa." Vernon was shocked.

He knew their group had been successful, his bank account being the biggest indicator, but he didn't think it had gotten this far.

Vernon was fully aware that they had gotten quiet big; bigger than what they had imagined during their trainee days. But a train.... with all their faces... set to be traveling throughout the country....? That blew his mind.

"Thank you." He handed her phone back.

"Working on gettin it on a plane too." Y/n replied, stepping up to the counter once the person in front of them had stepped away. "Iced hazelnut coffee please."

"Plane?" He gasped, still standing in his spot, mouth agape.

Y/n didn't think it was much of a big deal, remembering that she had briefly mentioned it during her presentation. Along with the VERY generous budget HYBE and PLEDIS had given the marketing team.

She remembered clearly because Minghao compared it to the Hello Kitty plane he had taken once on the way back to China; unable to help herself from laughing.

"Uh.... he'll have an iced mocha." She turned back to the barista, letting out a soft laugh as she stepped away from the front of the line – Vernon following suit.

She had perfectly remembered his order from that day.

Unable to shake it off. Especially not after she realized who he was.

"A plane?"

"It's not for sure yet."

"A plane." He repeated, coming back down to earth. "Wait I didn't order!"

"Oh I got it."

"Did you get me an iced americano?" He deadpanned, knowing that it had been a stereotypical drink that was a crowd favorite. And considering he was lost in his own world, he figured it would have been the safe choice for her to say.

He hated that watered down tar drink.

"Did you want an iced americano?" Y/n asked slowly, scolding herself for ordering the same drink he had picked out when he was a teen.

How was she going to explain this to him?

Without being an absolute creep...

"No but it's fine, I'll give it to Seungkwan."

"I got you an iced mocha."

Welp.

There goes the bomb.

She began planning her escape route.

"Oh." He was left dumbfounded for a second time.

"Uh.... you seem like an iced mocha guy."

That was convincing.... right?

"Should I be offended?"

"Maybe." She shrugged, letting out a small sigh of relief as she walked over to get their drinks from the counter.

Crisis averted.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

Y/n didn't intend to stay past her usual work hours. She wasn't one to work a full twelve hour day, not when she can help it.

The first day of the Follow to Seoul was fast approaching, and though she was on the Japan team, she had grown restless as the big day approached. Each and every single marketing deliverables had to be cohesive through out all the stops, regardless of country or city. And considering it was her that had pitched this overall theme, she couldn't help but take extra hours to ensure any and all loose ends had been perfectly tied off.

Y/n was a perfectionist.

She had taken one last glance at the email she had scheduled to be sent to all the staff members the following morning, containing all information relating to the tour; including posting schedules on social media, announcement of later dates, and merch recap.

Content with herself, she closed out of her browser and collected her belongings – heading for the door.

At least she wasn't the last one on their floor, getting accustomed to the group's late night practices. She had one too many run ins with a few members in the past week, each scolding her for staying past the usual 6pm clock out time.

"Didn't you already get an earful from Seungkwan the other day?" Vernon called out from the end of the hall.

He had stepped out of the elevator and instantly recognized her; a smile appearing on his face.

Because he wanted to tease her.

Nothing else.

Looking up from her phone, she let out a laugh. She was caught.

"Shouldn't you be at practice? You're late." She teased right back.

They had met halfway, both with stupid grins on their faces.

Because of the joke.

"I had schedule before this." He defended.

"I was finishing up the last few details." Y/n countered.

His bottom lip jutted out, nodding in understandment. A habit she had noticed he seemed to have done quite often.

"The last train was 30 minutes ago."

"My mom's picking me up."

"That's cute."

She reached over to give his arm a smack, knowing that he was holding himself back from making another joke.

They had finally crossed the weird line that rested between coworkers that made small talk with one another in the work place and coworkers that you'd consider to maybe... just maybe be okay with hanging out with outside of the workplace.

Not that they have ever.

That was still untouchable territory.

Being an idol and all.

The only time they have spent time outside of the office building was during company dinners. A neutral setting.

Sure, they've spent some lunches at the cafeteria together – Vernon unable to pass up free food when he was far too lazy to go off and find other meals outside of the company.

"Ow! That'll bruise." Vernon cried, grabbing the spot where her hand had landed.

"Oh please. I barely grazed it. I would have to grab you really hard to even leave a mark."

"Like when you fell in the subway?" He snorted.

Y/n brows furrowed in confusion, her head tilting to the side. She had never told him about that day in the subway.

She had never told anyone about it.

It was of no significance.

A minor interaction with a stranger.

"How do you know about that?"

Vernon's eyes grew wide at the sudden slip up. "Huh?"

"I never told anyone about that."

"No– no you definitely told me about it. You were falling and this guy saved you from falling."

Or maybe she had.

... Had she?

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

He was screwed.

Not only was he screwed but he owed Mingyu and Dokyeom ₩100,00 ... each.

Vernon had a crush.

A big fat crush that had him grinning like a stupid little kid every time he was near her. Hell, he had caught himself grinning while looking at her instagram.

Which took a lot of convincing and a few specially delivered coffees at her desk for him to even pry out of her.

He would spend hours on end that day carefully swiping through to make sure that he did not accidentally like any of her posts.

His fans were smart. Detectives even.

He knew any movement on any social media did not go unnoticed.

All hell would break loose the second they caught wind of him interacting with anyone but his members or fans.

He had managed to deny all claims that he may be attracted to the newest addition to their staff team, and everyone seemed to have bought it.

All except Mingyu and Dokyeom, who had caught the two one too many times in their own world during her lunch breaks.

Vernon had confidently challenged the two to a ₩100,00 bet to prove that they were wrong.

He didn't think they would win.

It was silly little crush.

But she had texted him earlier that day, wanting to talk after work – claiming that she had to confess something.

Since receiving that text, he had been restless; unable to find a comfortable position on his couch and opted to plan out his outfit instead.

He wanted to look good.

Because she's confessing her feelings right?

And if the feelings were mutual.... then why not? Right?

He's allowed to date.

Everyone else around him had significant others.

Why can't he?

Vernon decided being home was not an option, not while his everyone else was home and able to pick up on his behavior.

Coming up with some lame excuse about wanting to practice one last time before they headed off to Japan for their first show, he made his way to their company's designated floor – waiting in the practice room.

He was grateful that she had asked to meet on the one particular day their day off landed on – their managers agreeing they needed rest more now that the non-stop schedules were kicking off.

Vernon was laying on the couch when he heard the door creak open, his head shooting up – eyes immediately locking with hers. He jumped up and off of the couch; adjusting his shirt.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as she grew closer to him.

It began to beat louder once she was a foot from him, his nose instantly filled with her signature scent.

Burberry HER.

He wasn't weird.

He had complimented her months before and she happily advertised the small roll on version of the product she carried with her at all times.

"I hate not smelling good." She reasoned when he had teased her about it.

"How was work?" He asked.

She shrugged. "We finally announced the Follow train and plane. Your fans made a few jokes about how they hope it was you guys flying it too."

He let out a chuckle, aware of the jokes that their fanbase were capable of making – some even making it into the groupchat whenever either one of them found one good enough to send them to tears in laughter.

"Anyways, I have a confession." She wasted no time getting right to the point. "And I already know you're probably going to distance yourself after, but I don't care. It's been literally bugging me for months now."

"It's okay, I– I think I have something to say too." He wiped his hands on his jeans, feeling them grow moist from the anticipation.

"You do?" Y/n was puzzled.

"Yeah but uh... you go first."

"No, now I'm curious." She laughed, picking up on his nervous demeanor.

She was nervous as well, but his.... was little more off putting; the color on his lips draining.

Vernon was glad they were standing, knowing that his legs would have been bouncing enough to shake the whole room from the anxiety he had been feeling.

He had confessed his feelings to someone before. Why was he so nervous?

She was going to do it as well.

Right?

"I– fine." He sucked in a deep breath, locking his eyes with her. "I um, may have a slight, crush– No actually, no I have feelings for you. Positive ones. You know the one that makes me want to kick your feet and giggle when you text the person you like.... That kind."

Y/n's lips formed into an "o".

That wasn't what she was expecting, though.... she should have guessed the minute she picked up on his strange behavior – mentally comparing it to a high schooler when they were around their crush.

Vernon watched as the girl slowly walked over to the couch, taking a seat. His eyes remaining on her as she sat in silence.

"I'm guessing that you were not going to say the same thing."

She slowly shook her head, still in shock.

Welp.

Time to go on a year long hiatus.

He allowed her for a minute of silence, taking a seat on the far opposite end of the couch; silently drumming his fingers on his legs as he tried his best to keep the voices in his head from jumping into further conclusions.

"So I'm uh– going to head out." He clicked his tongue, standing from his seat.

God this was so awkward.

"Wait!" Y/n her voice cracked, finally blinking away the blank stare she had.

Vernon was halfway to the door when she had called out for him, turning his heel to face her.

"Sorry I was... processing." She ran her fingers through her hair. Y/n had many things to consider.

The thing was, she too had positive feelings for him.

But that was the thing.

She was perfectly fine pining for him in silence. She was okay with the one sided admiration. Y/n was completely okay with having him as her work crush, the reason as to why she was that much more motivated to come in when the days felt like a call in sick type of day.

Because just a minute ago, she didn't know he had felt the same.

But now that he had exposed how he felt, it complicated her false reality.

Not only did she realize she might just have a chance with him... she had a chance with an idol.

Someone who was meant to remain unattainable. Only for fans.

Someone who cannot be seen with anyone of the opposite gender.

Someone who she was definitely not supposed to be dating.

Not that he asked her out.... he just told her how he felt.

"I came here to tell you that we met before." Y/n swallowed, walking over to where he stood. "I– we were teenagers. I was working at a cafe and you and your sister came in. I– I didn't know who you were at the time but a few months later I saw you on TV and– I didn't think I would see you again. Let alone work for you. It's been eating me alive since I saw you in the conference room. More now that we're friends. Or... possible ... crushes? I–"

Now it was his turn to be in shock.

"Do you believe in the red string theory?" He blurted.

That damn red string.

Y/n couldn't help but laugh, nodding in response to his question.

Vernon had heard about the red string theory from his mother, she had always entertained all sorts of ideas as such and happily shared it to him and his sister.

He rarely believed in these ideas, such as zodiac signs being able to properly describe someone's personality down to what makes them tick. Listening to his mother ramble on and on out of respect.

"You don't know this but– that day, that you fell at the station... That was me. I was the one that stopped you from falling. That bruise, I– I'm Hansol."

Vernon remembered that day so clearly.

His sister was in town for a quick break from her school back west and he had been paying her a visit at his parent's home – opting to take the public transportation instead of bothering his band of brothers or managers.

He was far too busy trying to keep his profile low as he headed back to his shared apartment when he stepped on the back of her sneakers.

Thanks to his quick reflexes, he had been able to catch her.

He was left in awe of her beauty that day, cursing himself for not approaching her when he had caught her staring from a few feet away.

The second time was purely coincidence.

He was sending his sister off.

He didn't think y/n would be taking the same scheduled train as him.

Vernon wasn't one to take things a sign. But he did just this on time – taking a seat next to the girl.

He didn't think he would see her again.... again.

Especially not as someone heading their marketing meeting.

"I choked on my water that day you were presenting because– I mean, I was surprised that you were there." He continued.

Maybe both her grandmother and his mom were right.

Maybe they did have an invisible string that tied them together.

That must be the only explanation.

"Wait— you— hold up." She reached over, using one hand to hold onto his upper arm; trying to stabilize her now weak knees. "Is this okay? I'm allowed to hold onto— I—"

Vernon felt his ears grow hot, unable to bite back the smile fighting its way to appear on his face. "Yeah this is okay." He nodded.

"Before we circle back to the whole destiny thing," Y/n withdrew her arm back to her side. "I— can't believe I'm saying this out loud, but I... uh— kinda like you too?"

"Kinda ... with a question mark?"

"Okay, I do. I have positive feelings for you."

He felt his heart take a leap.

"Can you give me a second?" Vernon held up a finger before walking over to a corner, letting out a dramatic 'yes!'.

She watched him in awe.... and pure adoration. A larger grin on his face as he made his way back to where he stood.

He was cold and stoic on camera, rarely showing any emotions but she quickly realized that the facade he seemed to put on wasn't who he really was.

Vernon was a dork, an animated and very funny guy who enjoyed teasing her any chance he got. Just like any other boy who had a crush.

There had been countless of times when she found herself wiping away the moisture from her eyes from the stupid corny jokes he told.

"Back to the whole destiny thing."

"It can't possibly be real but... I'll take it. I'll allow it." She laughed.

"You think that little red string is tied to yours?" Bringing his pinky up to their eye line.

"I would hope so."

"Want to test the theory?" He wiggled his finger, earning a giggle from her. "Dinner on me?"

"Let's start with dinner on a plate first."

Vernon's smile fell, using his other hand to fiddle with his pinky.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm trying to untie the string." He chuckled, breaking character.

"You're a loser." Y/n rolled her eyes.

tag list: @leah-rose03 @yoonzinuhh @musingsofananxiouspotato @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @hanniebanggi

#something different for now lol #vernon x y/n #vernon x reader #vernon x you #vernon fluff #vernon fic #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #red string au #hansol vernon chwe #chwe hansol x reader #vernon x oc

[cheolism]

jealous

✿ chwe hansol x reader ❀ summary: hansol wants to fuck you until you can't remember anything but his name and when the man who inspires jealousy in him just so happens to call you, hansol can't help but take advantage. ✿ word count is approx 2k ❀ tags: jealousy and possessiveness, rough sex. biting and spitting, cursing and praise. ✿ warnings: possessive vernon, jealous vernon. spit kink, bruises. pet names (baby, sweetheart). over stimulation, crying kink (mentioned). vernon has a dirty mouth!! ❀ request: Dude dirty talk with vernon is driving me crazy, his deep voice ahhhh bruh just imagine he got jealous of y/n's guyfriend (I don't think he's a type who gets jealous but just IMAGINE) and during your SEGZY time, y/n's friend called her and vernon made her take the call. He had one goal, to make that guy know y/n belonged to vernon(not in a toxic way, ofc) so he slowly fucks her and whispers all the dirty things he'd do to her later, which makes y/n so weak and just moan into the call. He just smirks and cuts the call 😩

Hansol wasn't usually rough with you.

So when he grabbed your hips and shoved you onto the bed, mouth attaching to your neck and biting, you were surprised. Not a bad surprised, of course -- his hands elected moans from you as they shoved into your pants, nails digging into your ass, soft little whimpers escaped your mouth as his teeth sunk into your neck, marking you, claiming you.

Hansol worked quickly, shoving your pants and underwear to your ankles, forcing your hoodie up and above your head, phone tumbling out onto the bed beside you. Urgency roughened his touch, hands constantly moving against you, touching and claiming you.

"Sol," you breathed, arching into him. He shoved his knee between your thighs, mouth trailing to your breasts. You were powerless against him, grinding your cunt down onto his knee, wetting it and smearing your juices along his skin. "Hansol --"

"Don't worry, baby," he murmured. His tongue laved over your pebbled nipple. His breath was hot against your skin, the contrast between the cold of his spit against your skin drawing a shiver from you. "Gonna take care of you. Gonna treat you good, yeah?"

Two of his fingers went to your cunt. He slid his fingers along your pussy, collecting the juices. "Fuck -- so wet for me, baby. You're fucking soaked."

His fingers massaged against your hole, rubbing and taunting. Your arousal gushed out of you, hips twisting up into his hands in a futile attempt to guide his fingers in.

"God -- can smell your cunt all the way up here," he hissed, pulling back from your chest. Bruises and bite marks littered your skin, marks of him. "Your fucking cunt's eager, yeah? So eager for me."

You nodded, whining loudly in your throat as his thumb brushed over your cunt. It wasn't enough to do anything, just mindless contact. But it was enough to drive you insane, for your mind to clear of all thoughts other than Hansol, other than the desire, the yearning, for relief.

"Want you," you agreed weakly, hands sinking into his hair. You pulled at the locks, tugging and twisting, sweet pants and moans escaping Hansol's mouth at your efforts. "Fucking want you, Hansol, want you so fucking bad."

He swore, pulling away. Hansol hooked his arms around your legs, lifting and baring your cunt to the room. He ducked his head, and you tensed in anticipation.

A wad of spit shot from his lips, landing on your cunt. You groaned, eyes screwing shut. You could hear as he spat again, imagined his saliva mixing with your arousal on your cunt.

Hansol released your legs, withdrawing from you. Your eyes flew open, protests immediately leaving your mouth.

"God you're so desperate, aren't you?" Hansol crawled up the bed, reaching to the bed table on his side. He grabbed the lube bottle, popping off the clear cap and letting it fall to the floor.

Ignoring the mess already between your thighs, how the inner skin of your thighs was already soaked with the combination of your own arousal and his saliva, Hansol pumped liberal amount over your cunt.

"You're a fucking mess," he moaned, lips twisting into a mean little smirk. "So fucking messy, baby."

He threw the lube to the side of the bed, the both of you ignoring it as it rolled off and onto the floor. Hansol stuck his hands into his pants, shoving them down to his knees.

His hands settled on the back of your thighs, pushing them up once more. Hansol crowded close, releasing one of your thighs to grab his dick. He tugged at it, hissing and huffing with every pull.

He rubbed the head of his dick along your cunt, gathering the crude mix of your arousal, his spit, and lube. Curses poured out of his mouth, praise intermixed. "Fucking perfect, your sweet little cunt. Shit, baby, fucking soaking my dick, fucking goddamn perfect --"

The tip of his cock pressed against your hole, and immediately you were bucking up into him in a poor attempt to force it in. "Please, Hansol, please, I need you to fuck me, want -- want your cock, please --"

He laughed, a deep thing that made your cunt clench in arousal. "Fucking desperate, baby. So eager for me, aren't you? Can't think about anything other than my fat dick, can you?"

Then Hansol was pushing in. You tossed your head back, eyes pressing shut. The stretch burned, your cunt squeezing and tightening around his dick with every centimeter he pressed into you. Hansol cursed, and the hand not holding your thigh went to your cunt. His thumb pressed into your pussy, orbiting around your clit, skin brushing against the bundle of nerves but never touching it head-on.

The action had you whining, body relaxing and bucking up into him, desperate for more. "Solie! Hansol, fuck -- please, Hansol, please --"

Once his cock was fully sheathed inside of you, Hansol stopped torturing your clit. He withdrew his hand, wet from your cunt, slipping it to your thigh. He went to his knees, pressing down on your thighs.

Hansol began to withdraw, his cock dragging against your walls. Your toes curled, hands grasping at the sheets. Pleas poured from your mouth, wanting more and more.

Then the sound of wind chimes filled the room, startling the both of you. You scrambled, throwing your arm out in an attempt to find your phone. Hansol refused to help, holding your thighs still, keeping you impaled on his dick.

You took one look at your phone and then you were throwing it to the side, not caring. Hansol lifted a brow at you. You rolled your eyes, wiggling your hips down on his cock in an attempt to coax him back. "Just Jaehyung. Ignore it."

Hansol's face turned to stone, grip on your thighs tightening. He couldn't help but think back to that photo on Instagram that had ignited the little spark of passion (and jealousy) inside of him. Jaehyung, a friend of a friend, had posted a handful of photos of the get-together you had attended last night. And one of them featured you and Jaehyung, his shoulders pressed against your side, arm around your waist.

Hansol was not a jealous person. But immediately he had felt the seeds of jealousy sprout in his gut. Jaehyung had been yearning for you for as long as Hansol knew you, no matter that you and Hansol had been dating for nearly just as long.

Get-togethers that Hansol managed to attend were spent awkwardly with Jaehyung constantly aiming for your attention; stealing Hansol's spot, speaking over him. You never paid it any attention, thinking Jaehyhung merely as a friend of a friend; no one important.

It reassured Hansol that you were so willing to cast Jaehyung aside, but he couldn't stop the little monster inside of him.

"Answer," he commanded, fingers digging into your thighs. "Answer him, baby."

Your eyes widened. "Hansol, I don't --"

"Answer him or I'll pull out right now," Hansol threatened. He didn't really mean it. He'd fuck you regardless, but he still liked the desperate look you got on your face at his reply, liked the spike of pride it gave.

You grabbed your phone. Your eyes flicked up to Hansol's, and then you were answering the phone. "H-hey, Jaehyung."

"Speaker, sweetheart," Hansol said. You did as he demanded, and then you were setting your phone on the bed. "Good baby."

Hansol finished pulling his cock out of your cunt, until the tip was catching on your hole. You bit down on your lip, eyes darting down to where the two of you were joined, trying to pay attention to the phone call enough to answer Jaehyung.

" -- so much fun last night," Jaehyung was saying, his voice quiet due to the phone volume. "Such a shame your boyfriend couldn't make it. Why couldn't he, again?"

Hansol grinned, raising his brows at you and prompting an answer. You huffed a sigh. "He had to meet with some producers."

Your answer prompted a little nod from Hansol, and then he was thrusting back into you. You moaned, high and needy, back arching up and into him.

"Y/n? You okay?"

You bit down on your lip before replying, cunt fluttering around Hansol's cock. He withdrew all the way again, until his head was resting on your hole. "Y-yeah! Just -- just lost my place in my game."

Hansol looked down, eyes watchign as his cock sheathed in you once again. In dramatic contrast to the urgency that had taken over his movements earlier, Hansol slowly moved his hips against your cunt. He paid half attention to your conversation with Jaehyung, the other man's voice nothing but background noise to him. Your voice, however, had Hansol grinning.

Your voice wavered with every slow thrust into your cunt, biting back moans and groans of pleasure. Your face was contorted with effort, hands pulling at the sheets. You barely spoke other than to offer affirmation that you were paying attention, trying to concentrate on not letting on what you were really doing.

Hansol moved against you fluidly, never stopping his movements. He only paused long enough to release your thighs, bending over you and caging you underneath him.

He next thrust was well-aimed, hitting that spongy spot dead-on. You bit down on your lip, but that did little to muffle your whine. Hansol huffed a laugh, and then he was driving his hips forward, thighs meeting your ass in a brutal slap.

"Doing so good," he said, grinning meanly. "Do you think he knows, baby? Knows I'm fucking you so good?"

You let out a shuddering breath, tensing in his hold. "Sol --"

"Feel so good wrapped around my cock," he murmured. He drove into you relentlessly, little strangled noises escaping your mouth. "Gonna fuck you until you're dumb, baby. How's that? Fucking you on my fat dick until you can't say nothing but my name, 'til you're sobbing and crying for me to stop 'cause you can't take it."

"Hansol," you sobbed, and it was like the threads holding him together snapped.

Hansol grabbed you, pulling his cock out. He roughly flipped you over, hand pressing down on your back and forcing you to stick your ass up into the air, face pressed into the sheets next to your phone.

"Y/n? Are you okay? What's going on?"

In one swift movement Hansol was impaling you back on his cock, a loud moan ripping from your mouth in response. He jack-rabbited into you, his hands gripping your hips and waist so tightly that Hansol knew he'd leave bruises. The sound of his hips and balls slapping against your thighs filled the room, a crude sort of music to his ears.

"So fucking good," he cursed, watching as your ass cheeks bounced. He released his grip on you just to slap his hand down on your ass, roughly grabbing the flesh and massaging the sting. "So fucking tight around my cock, baby. Fucking soaking it. Getting my dick wet so well."

Hansol glanced at your phone. The screen was blank; Jaehyung had hung up.

Hansol smirked, and then he was ducking his head. A fat wad of spit dropped from his mouth, hitting the curve of your ass. You sobbed as an orgasm traveled through you, Hansol continuing to ram into you as if you were his own little plaything.

"Hansol, please, fuck," you screamed, hips in constant torment, both pulling away and grinding closer. "Hansol, god, so much --"

He chuckled, breathless. He hooked an arm around your waist, pressing down against your back. "Gotta cry for me first, baby," he panted, nipping at your back. "We ain't stopping 'til you're fucking sobbing for me to stop."

#svthub #my writing #vernon #svt vernon #vernon fic #vernon x reader #vernon oneshot #svt #svt fic #svt x reader #svt oneshot #seventeen #seventeen fic #seventeen oneshot #seventeen x reader #chwe hansol #chwe vernon #svt smut

[wonwoonlight]

when you've been whining about the same thing over and over again and hansol has had enough

a/n: just some random burst of words. fluff. friends to ???. talks abt kissing lol

You're starting to question your decision of befriending Chwe Hansol.

You don't even know if he's listening to you, but it's just his default setting to look like he's spacing out on you even if he isn't.

It doesn't bother you usually, but you're a little more sensitive today just because and you don't appreciate him not making a single noise when you've been babbling for the past ten minutes.

"Say something!"

He looks at you bored, though you knew yet again that it's just how he looks. He cares, you know he cares, but you're in one of your annoying mood and it's somehow Hansol's burden to carry today.

"What do you want me to say?" He asks, genuinely wanting to know what kind of answer you're expecting from him. "You've been saying you want someone to kiss since, like, two weeks ago. I told you to go to the club. Didn't you?"

"I did." You pout, and then plop your head on his shoulder as Hansol moves to let you lean on him more comfortably. You don't even know why you're complaining about this to him of all people instead of your other friends, don't even know what kind of comfort you're expecting from the most practical and idealistic friend you've ever haf in your life.

"Why didn't you kiss anyone?"

"No one's my type."

He doesn't miss a second to flick your forehead, and you make a show of saying it hurts (it does hurt, just not as much as you make it to be) as you lean away and cover your forehead with your palm. The glare you send his away doesn't deter him in any way.

"Why do you want to kiss someone so bad?" He asks you seriously, turning his body to face you.

"It's just been too long..."

"You watched another romance movie, didn't you?"

"Shut up."

"I told you to stop watching them if they make you feel like this!"

It's never easy to tell what Hansol is thinking about even though he's one of the most transparent people out there. You think that's why he's all the more unpredictable.

And like right now as you continue to stupidly debate over the romance movie marathon you had last night, you're not sure why he's entertaining you this much when your other friends would just shut up at some point and let you continue whining about your misery.

"I just want someone to kiss!"

"You don't just want someone to kiss if you're being picky about who you're kissing."

"I'm not picky." You huff. "I simply don't want to kiss strangers. What if they're creepy?"

Hansol stares at you incredulous, and you did a tiny victory dance in your head because you manage to leave him speechless. It doesn't matter that he's probably just tired of this conversation, it still counts as a victory to you.

"See? I knew you'd get my point eventually. I just want to--"

You don't get to finish your sentence as his hands reach for your face and his lips close over yours. You blink continuously for a few seconds, then succumbs into the warmth of his mouth on yours and his palms on your cheeks, and close your eyes to return the kiss.

You're a little out of breath when you pull away, and you still can't tell what goes over his head as his eyes stares into your soul.

"Next time you complain about this," he starts, his palms don't move from your face. You're pretty sure he can hear the loud sound of your heartbeats and feel the warmth emitting from your cheeks. "That's what I'm going to do, got it?"

You nod, pressing your lips together as if to feel his lips once more, a little disappointed when you don't feel the same spark from the real thing.

"Is it okay if I just ask you to kiss me again?"

#been some time since i wrote for him #but i woke up and this scenario just pops into my head and it screams hansol so #vernon fluff #hansol fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen au #seventeen scenario #vernon scenarios #vernon scenario #vernon drabble #seventeen x reader #seventeen drabbles #khione.fics #hansol scenarios #vernon fic #seventeen fanfic

[snwprl]

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐜𝐡𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐥

pairing. idol!vernon x idol!reader

genre. fluff

blurb. dating as idols is never an easy task. but thankfully, you have vernon by your side.

wc. 332

a/n. did y'all see today gose? i was watching it on my way home and i sorted wheezed in a bus.. lol.. i had to bolt out of there when it came at my stop

m.list

The fire exit door clanged shut behind you, muffling the excited chatter and thumping music from the after-party. Relief washed over you, the stifling weight of a hundred eyes finally lifting. Vernon, usually the calm one, practically shoved you against the rough concrete wall. His hand shot up, cupping your face, and his lips were on yours before you could blink.

The kiss was electric, a desperate tangle of limbs and unspoken longing. Weeks of stolen glances and near misses fueled the urgency. But as quickly as it started, you pulled away, gasping for air.

"Wait," you breathed, heart hammering against your ribs. "What if someone sees?"

Vernon's forehead creased. The playful glint in his eyes was replaced by a flicker of something deeper, a vulnerability that made your stomach twist.

"We can't keep doing this, Y/N," he murmured, his voice rough. "Sneaking around like we're criminals."

You knew he was right. The thrill of stolen moments was quickly turning into a suffocating cage. But the alternative – the potential fallout, the company's iron fist, the disappointment in your fans' eyes – terrified you.

"I know," you whispered, the weight of the secret pressing down on you. "But what if they…?" Your voice trailed off, the unspoken fear hanging heavy in the air.

Vernon cupped your cheek as he quickly pecked your lips, his thumb tracing a gentle path down your jawline. "We'll figure it out," he said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hand. "Together. But right now…" He leaned in again, his eyes searching yours. "Just this once?"

You stared into his gaze, the familiar warmth igniting a spark of defiance within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was another way. A way where love and music could coexist, unafraid.

With a shaky breath, you nodded. The taste of rebellion mingled with the sweetness of the kiss, and for a stolen moment, tucked away in the darkness, you were just Vernon and Y/N, not idols, not commodities, but two souls finding solace in each other.

#☁︎ snwprl #☁︎ vernon #☁︎ seventeen #☁︎ snw writes #seventeen #idol!reader #☁︎ chwe hansol #seventeen x you #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fluff #seventeen headcanons #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen vernon #vernon chwe x reader #vernon x reader #vernon #vernon fluff #vernon fic #seventeen carat #seventeen x y/n #chwe hansol #chwe vernon #hansol x reader #hansol vernon chwe #☁ drabbles

[highvern]

Secret Games

Pairing: Chwe Vernon x f!reader

Genre: angst, smut, 18+

Warnings: cheating, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, penetrative sex, toxic relationship

Length: 1.7k

Note: i cried writing this. the most toxic piece ive ever written but sometimes fic is the best place to work out issues lmao. originally inspired by girlfriend - avril lavigne but i took it and made it a lot worse. thank you @gyuswhore for being the best beta in the world

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Vernon is convinced the entire universe is playing a practical joke on him. It has to be. Vernon would never cheat on his girlfriend, wouldn’t even entertain the idea, and if someone told him a month ago he’d be where he is now, he’d take them to the hospital for a CT scan. 

But a month ago he hadn’t met you, and now Vernon feels like the biggest asshole on the face of the earth.

He loves Olivia. She’s his soulmate, his favorite person, the girl he told his mom was the one since they started dating when he was a junior in college. Four years together and never once did he question if she was the person he wanted to be with.

Until you.

The only person to blame was himself. Getting caught up in the attention of the newest addition to the friend group, failing to ignore longing looks or sideways glances, reacting to your not so subtle touches. It didn’t matter if his girlfriend was sitting in his lap or she was nowhere to be seen, you seemed to zero in on him the moment you entered the room.

From the first night in the smoky club, you had him in the palm of your hand. Dancing on another man while your eyes never left his. Watching him over the mystery man's shoulder, while Olivia pressed her front to his. Pretended the body under his palms belonged to you, the lips pressed to his neck were yours. 

Something passed between you two that night and since then every waking moment of Vernon’s existence revolved around how shitty of a boyfriend he became when put to the test.

But he’d been better lately. Avoiding nights out where you might be lurking, urging his girlfriend to have as many girls’ nights as she wants, hoping she might be slipping the same way he was. But Olivia didn’t look at anyone the way she looked at him. She’d never betray him, never think twice about another man even when they flirt with her out in the open like her boyfriend isn’t sitting right next to her. 

That knowledge only makes the truth harder to swallow. 

The beginning of the end starts in a small hall closet at Soonyoung’s apartment. Everyone came over to celebrate his recent promotion. Several rounds of drinks later, the subject of celebration insisted in a game of hide and seek. There weren't many options to hide almost twenty bodies but alcohol has a way of soothing practical concerns.

Mingyu’s voice boomed through the apartment, jumping into action immediately and sending bodies scurrying for cover. 

Vernon pulled the closet door tight, praying Jun’s attempt to hide behind a lamp and Jeonghan half sticking out from under the couch would buy him enough time to avoid capture.

He could still hear the older man counting when the door opened. A sliver of light cuts across his eyes, casting the body pressing into the space in shadow. For a split second he thinks its his girlfriend, already laughing with childish glee at being so close.

But then Vernon realizes the person pushing in is you.

“Ready or not!”

Vernon tries to move back as far as he can into the wall but the bite of the shelves into his spine prevent more than a few inches of space between you. The door barely manages to click shut in time for footsteps to trample by, Mingyu’s laughter bleeding through the wood. 

In the darkness, Vernon finds a sudden awareness of your body. The roar of blood in his ears does little to drown out the sound of your breathing. Painfully measured breaths that stop every time someone shuffles by on the other side of the door. The heat radiating off your back across the inch of space between your bodies, a ghost of the real thing.

A loud bang makes you both jump, and with the limited space you end up in flat against Vernon’s chest, his arms around your waist to steady you. He knows you can feel his heart pounding. Not from being caught in such a silly game but from the proximity of your ass to his crotch; bodies firmly suctioned against one another. 

He tries not to react when you wiggle against him in an attempt to create more space. Vernon is desperate for you to ignore the hard curve of his pants, rising with each movement, each inhale of your perfume. 

“Vernon?” you call. “I said you're stepping on my foot.”

“Shit, sorry.” 

“Wait, let me just,” you whisper back.

At that moment, all of his defenses crumble. Chest to chest, your breath brushing against his ear, Vernon knows it’s futile to fight what he’s feeling. Your hands skating down his chest confirm it, rocketing his heart into a tailspin. 

He wants you.

And the way you look up at him, with lazy blinks and a drunk smile, tells Vernon you want him too.

A flush makes its way up his neck and he’s thankful for the darkness you're both absorbed in. The thought of all the others beyond the space you two occupy isn’t a blip in his mind. Vernon doesn’t want you to see what an obvious effect you have on him; even if the evidence is digging into the softness of your stomach.

A pass of your lips against his jaw scorches the flesh. Barely a second of contact; simple, chaste. But the imprint will stain his consciousness forever. Each lave of your tongue against the column of his throat forces him deeper into the pits of hell.

The sting of our teeth precedes an airy whine, “Vernon.”

His head drops back at the sound of his name on your tongue again. He wants to taste, to suck the words out of your mouth while his hands force it from your lips over and over again. 

Just as he’s about to, the door knob jiggles.

“Y/N, Vernon! We know you’re in there! We caught everyone else.”

Splitting apart, the warm light from the hall floods the tight space. Stumbling out, Vernon shoulders past you, past his friends, to where Olivia is waiting with a knowing gaze. He can’t look at her. Can’t look at his friends all laughing drunkenly, declaring you the winner 

Despite the look of absolute disappointment Olivia appraises him with, she doesn’t object when his hand circles her wrist and Vernon tugs her through the front door.

—

Vernon tries to bury what he felt in that closet in his girlfriend’s body. Tries to remember how much he loves her, wants to be with her.

Neither of them seem to be fully present. He can feel it in her body, the way she stiffens under his hands like they freeze her muscles solid. The rasps of Olivia’s half hearted moans churn his stomach, tying knots over and over again until he thinks he might be sick. 

They’ve been knocked off their axis by something, someone. The practiced ease of their bodies is nowhere to be found. She’s a step ahead and he’s a step behind but rather than stop and talk about it like they usually do, they both press forward as if it’s normal.

Who they’re pretending for, Vernon has no idea. Each other? Themselves? All the people who’ve watched their relationship bloom over the years? It doesn’t matter. He can feel years of love turning to dust and he can’t bare to watch.

Thoughts of you break the dam in his mind. How you felt under his hands, your lips against his skin, how you’d taste on his tongue. What sounds you’d make if no one interrupted what was just over the edge in the closet. 

The mirage of you, head thrown back in bliss as you take his cock rockets him to the end. Eyes cinched shut, imagination running rampant. It’s you underneath him, skin sticking to his, nails raking down his spine. It’s the smell of your shampoo still lingering in his nose as he buries his face in Olivia’s neck and loses himself in the motions. 

Vernon doesn’t realize he cums with your name on his lips until Olivia’s sobs reach his ears.

–

You shudder against the freezing wind, puffs of smoke washing away as soon as they exit your nostrils. A bile of shame and regret burns the back of your throat; something not even the sting of liquor is able to drive away. But that won’t stop you from drinking straight from the bottle you nabbed from Mingyu’s hand before running outside.

Maybe it's the weed or the booze but you’ve never felt so empty. A bitter hollowness, rotting you to the core. Tear tracks stain your cheeks, prickling in the frigid winter air. The cacophony of street noise falls on deaf ears as you replay the events filling you with misery.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. Flirting with Vernon had been Olivia’s idea. A friend helping a friend. She wanted to test his loyalty. Begged you to help her assuage her doubts about their relationship. Vernon’s lack of reassurance, her belief that he’d leave her for someone else. All you were supposed to do was smile and make bedroom eyes and see if he’d cave. When that didn’t work, she told you to step it up; looks turned into touches, and flirty comments turned into late night texts where she told you exactly what to say to have him wrapped around his finger. 

And when that didn’t work, she shoved you into the closet with her boyfriend to see what’d take place in the dark, away from prying eyes.

Olivia got what she thought she wanted in the end. A nod from you was all the confirmation she needed as her boyfriend whisked her out the door. 

No one else seemed to pick up the tension trickling out of the closet. They were all so eager to believe that Vernon and Olivia were in love; the type of couple who you aspire to be like, so wrapped up in one another that the thought of them separated made no logical sense. Why would Vernon even consider someone else? The thought he’d do anything to jeopardize such a clandestine pairing wasn’t even a thought in the horizon.

The buzz of your phone knocks you from your stupor. A humorless huff of air sighs through your nose as you silence the fourth call in the last ten minutes. Barely a second for the same name to pop up again.

Incoming call… Vernon Chwe

-

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @ourdawnishotterthanourday

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

#svthub #kvanity #ksmutsociety #vernon smut #svt smut #vernon x reader #svt x reader #seventeen smut #vernon fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #vernon fic #svt fic #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #vernon imagines #hansol vernon chwe #🫡 highvern

[the-boy-meets-evil]

today of all days | vernon

(the lull of the new year never really comes for you, which is fine. it's better to be busy. this year, you're a little too busy planning something else to worry much about valentine's day. It's never been your favorite holiday anyway. but, could your boyfriend have forgotten in entirely?)

pairing: vernon x afab!reader genre: est. relationship, non-idol!au | smut, slight angst, fluff rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~4.6k warnings: mentions of food, there's a little angst, but it's mostly miscommunication, kissing, oral sex (m & f receiving), fingering, marking, unprotected sex (don't do this without talking about it), multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, i think that's it

a/n: happy valentine's day to the always wonderful, absolutely amazing @wonwussy 💕 it's been so much fun to get to write this for you. i hope you enjoy it! this is part of @svthub's cupid for you valentine's exchange organized by my bby @wongyuseokie (who is very amazing and also made the banner & divider). happy valentine's (and carat day)!

There’s usually kind of a lull at the beginning of the new year. Like everyone decides that after the holidays, you’re due for a break. People try to work on their resolutions, businesses expect to see the drop off in their sales. Everything just feels more peaceful. It’s that calm before the storm when everything picks up again. 

Not for you, though. At least not this year. February brings Valentine’s Day and your boyfriend’s birthday. You don’t really care that much about the former. It’s nice to have someone to celebrate with, and you’re sure the two of you will do something, but it’s nothing crazy. As long as you have him and a quiet night in, you’re good. It’s the latter of the two things that’s keeping an otherwise peaceful time from being peaceful. 

Here’s the thing. Vernon isn’t one to make a big deal of his birthday, never has been. He feels similar to the way you feel about Valentine’s Day. He likes to do something to mark the passing of time, definitely enjoys the presents, but doesn’t feel the need for it to be some huge thing. It’s a little difficult, too, because he’s got another friend with the same birthday. For the years that they’ve been friends, they’ve always tried to work it around each other. Seokmin is a year older and feels a little more strongly about birthdays as something that should be celebrated. Somehow, that led to this year. A coordinated birthday for the two of them with all their friends there to celebrate the both of them. Two different cakes, two different contributions to the menu, and twice as many people to coordinate with. 

To say it’s been a bit of a headache is an understatement.

You love Vernon. He’s been your person for over two years and you wouldn’t trade him for the world. You also love to plan things for other people as a way to show them how much you care. This has just been a bigger undertaking than you imagined. Especially when you have to keep the party under wraps. Vernon knows you’re doing something with a group of friends. He thinks it’s only a small group. But, he’ll appreciate it all the same. Just like he seems to appreciate everything that you do. 

“Babe,” Vernon calls from the living room. He’s in the middle of gaming with Wonwoo, connected by their headsets.

“Yeah?” you answer.

“Wonwoo says that I’m gonna get in trouble for not planning some big thing for Valentine’s,” Vernon tells you.

You can hear the protests from Vernon even through the headset, which makes you chuckle. “As long as we get to cook something together and have a night in, I’m good.” 

“See?” Vernon says triumphantly. There’s a pause where Wonwoo must be asking something. “Oh, yeah, I’m definitely getting a gift.” 

“What?” you ask with clear surprise. Gifts were not part of the plan for this year.

“It’s nothing big, but I’ve got the perfect idea,” Vernon says with a familiar look of mischief. 

“Oh no, no you are not,” you counter. He bursts out in a cackle. “Vernon, you are not getting strawberry flavored condoms for Valentine’s Day. We don’t even use condoms.” 

The laugh through Vernon’s headset is just as loud. You would probably be embarrassed if it was anyone else, but Wonwoo has been in both of your lives long enough that most barriers have been erased. 

“No, don’t worry, that wasn’t actually it. I have a plan,” Vernon says and you watch him suspiciously. “Promise!”

You decide to let it lie for the time being. At least partly, because you don’t want to keep standing there while he’s playing video games. Partly because you knew it meant he would be distracted enough that you could sneak off to the bedroom to make a call about the party. 

Jeonghan had not been your first choice for a party planning committee because sometimes it’s hard to get an actual thought out of him. You’re not always sure what he’s thinking. But, he’s Seokmin’s best friend and one of the best schemers you know. Thankfully, these days he really only uses his talents for good. Well, it would be thankfully if you didn’t harbor a grudge over a prank he played when you first met. 

Miraculously, Jeonghan is also free and willing to do some final planning. It’s that stage where the final group of friends get clued in. Some friends, who shall remain nameless, had to find out much closer to the day. They just couldn’t be trusted to keep the secret. You’re actually impressed that you’ve managed to keep it from Vernon and Seokmin. You confirm that Vernon doesn’t know. He would have absolutely told you. Jeonghan also confirms that Seokmin doesn’t know because he can’t keep a secret either. 

When you wander back out into the living room, Vernon is still very engrossed in his game. You kiss the top of his head, watch the small smile with his eyes trained on the screen, and plop down at the other end of the couch. You prop your computer on your lap and reach for your headphones when Vernon turns to you between matches.

“Wanna order in for dinner?” he asks and you smile.

“Oh from that place around the corner?” you suggest. Vernon rolls his eyes without any real annoyance. It’s your favorite place.

“Whatever you want, babe,” he says and turns back to the game.

It’s easy, not only because you like it, but also since you know what he orders there. He’s kind of a creature of habit. Maybe you are too, since you always want to order from the same place. It’ll give you a chance to watch a few things while waiting as well as giving Vernon the chance to keep playing with Wonwoo. The gaming is always seamless for them after years of working together. 

When the food arrives, Vernon finishes his last game so that he can eat with you. It’s one of the things you love about him. He’s so thoughtful with things like that. When you first moved in with him, you were a little worried. You had never lived with a partner and weren’t sure how to navigate it. As it turns out, with the right person, it’s pretty easy. You leave each other to do your own things and then come together after.

“You’re sure you’re okay with a quiet Valentine’s Day?” he asks when you curl into him after dinner.

“It’s a little late if I’m not considering it’s in two days,” you say with a light laugh.

“I’m being serious,” he says. 

“I’m good, Vernon. I’ve got you and we’re going to make something together,” you say.

“I promise not to burn down the kitchen,” he assures you.

“You’ve been getting a lot better,” you say. “Plus, we also have dinner this weekend for your birthday.” 

“We don’t really have to do anything crazy for my birthday, you know. It’s so close to Valentine’s Day and…” Vernon trails off before you press a kiss to his lips.

“I love to celebrate your birthday. It’s another year of you and everyone should be thankful for that,” you say. 

Valentine’s morning comes bright and early. Sun streams through the cracks in your shades. Not quite enough to wake you up, but enough for you to know that it’s morning. You smile and stretch out, thinking it’s probably earlier than you need to be up. As you’re considering waking Vernon up to celebrate the day when you register an emptiness.

You’re the only one in the bed. 

You open your eyes and confirm what you already knew. Vernon isn’t in bed with you. The door to the bathroom is open and the light is off, so he’s not in there either. Although you prefer to lay in bed to wake up, curiosity gets the better of you and propels you out of bed to the living room. The entire apartment is quiet, still. Well, still apart from your cat that’s weaving between your legs. He doesn’t seem hungry, so you think he’s just wondering what you’re doing. It’s odd that he would have left the apartment so early in the morning. 

Padding back to the bedroom, you find your phone on the nightstand, plugged in like it always is. When you unlock it, you have a myriad of messages and notifications. Conspicuously absent, though, is a message from your boyfriend. There’s nothing to tell you where he is or went or could be. Which is odd, yes, but mostly it just makes you a little irritated. Sure, you don’t ever want to make a big deal out of Valentine’s Day. It’s plenty to spend the day with someone you love that loves you back. 

Vernon can be a little spacy at times. It’s not his best quality, but it’s also impossibly endearing. Maybe it’s because you know how much he’s thinking about when he’s got that look like he’s never had a thought in his life. It also makes him really chill, which matches you well. He doesn’t always have to be going or doing something. But, he’ll just as happily go out and be your shield because he’s much more of a people person than you are. 

All this to say, there’s part of you that wonders if the holiday just slipped his mind. It’s not like it’s a big deal, you said as much to him. But, you still expect something. Even if it’s just to know where he is so early in the morning. You hate that you wonder if he forgot because you trust Vernon with your life. He can get distracted sometimes. One time, he got so caught up in a project that he entirely forgot dinner plans with his friends. 

The mature thing to do would be to send him a text and ask where he is or even to wish him a happy Valentine’s Day. You’re not feeling especially mature, though. And you feel very justified in that annoyance because he’s the one that left early. He should be the one to let you know where he is. It should not be on you.

Trying to push the thoughts of Vernon out of your mind, you get ready for the day. Opt to leave earlier so you can buy yourself something to eat and some coffee on the way. By the time you reach work, you’re even more irritated rather than calmer. Every radio station was playing love songs that fit the genre. Every host seems to want to know what people’s plans are for the day. The coffee shop by your office was decorated in red, white, and pink hearts with all sorts of specials for the day. When you head into the office, it only gets worse. People have flowers on their desks, are exchanging happy wishes, talking about how they can’t wait to get out of work for their plans. Some people are spending it with partners, others are spending it with friends. Either way, everyone seems to have plans that are better than whatever will be waiting when you get home. Why did Vernon have to pick today of all days to be forgetful? 

Your work best friend stops by your desk with the typical cup of coffee mid morning and stops in his tracks when he senses your mood.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Minho asks. 

“Wow, hello to you too,” you respond when you take the coffee from him.

“You seem like you’re in a bad mood,” he says. 

“Maybe I am,” you answer. 

“But, it’s Valentine’s Day and you have, like, the most perfect boyfriend. What’s there to be mad about?” he asks. 

“Can’t be the most perfect boyfriend if he was gone before I woke up and didn’t even text me to say anything,” you say with all the irritation you feel.

That catches Minho’s attention. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“I woke up and the bed was empty. No note. No text. Just empty,” you say. 

“And you haven’t heard from him?” Minho presses.

“No,” you say, only to be distracted by your phone lighting up.

“Looks like a message from him,” he observes.

You quickly glance at your phone, hating how eager you feel just to hear something from him. It’s disappointing, though.

Vernon: sorry that i wasn’t there when you woke up, i had a last minute errand Vernon: when do you think you’ll be home from work? 

Instead of telling Minho what happened, you just hand your phone over to him. His grimace says all you need to know. It’s not an overreaction. 

“That’s…all he’s said to you today?” he asks.

“You can scroll to see,” you say because he still has your phone.

“No thanks,” Minho says with a laugh. “I don’t wanna accidentally see something.”

“It was one time,” you say, snatching your phone back with an eye roll. 

“And I’m still scarred,” he says. “What are you going to say back?”

“Nothing,” you say.

“But…” he starts.

“No, I’m not saying anything. I know I’m chill about this holiday, but to not even say anything? And what errand does he have to do at 7 in the morning?” you ask, more irritated that you had been.

“If you want to hold onto a grudge, who am I to stop you?” he asks when he stands. “Let me know if he manages to get out of the dog house.” 

With that comment, he’s off to his own desk. It usually goes something like this every day anyway. Minho shows up with coffee for you, looking to see what you have to say. Even though he’s the one that has the best gossip. Sometimes, he just wants someone to share it with. It’s a nice reprieve from your irritation. One that he repeats in the afternoon, which is a break from the norm. Unfortunately, the irritation that settles in his wake is worse than before he stops by. 

You consider staying at work late when the end of the day comes. It’s not like you’re in a rush to head home. There’s also a part of you that wants to punish Vernon for forgetting a holiday that you don’t even care that much about. (Okay, maybe you care, but that’s the whole point of having someone you love that also loves you to spend it with.) Staying late by yourself feels even worse when nobody else from the office is. Everyone seems to be out the door as soon as the day ends. And, despite not answering any of Vernon’s messages, you know he’s home. At least it’ll give you the chance to figure out how to approach this.

The drive home gives you a chance to run through all sorts of conversations in your head. You’re still stewing, a bit, because you’re upset at how the day went. But, you’re also preparing yourself to have a potentially difficult conversation with Vernon. Of course, he’ll be receptive to your feelings. He always is. It’s more that you’re frustrated it happened in the first place and don’t want your feelings to seem invalid. 

All of that goes out the window the second you step into your apartment. The lights are low, so it takes your eyes a second to adjust. When they do, however, you see that Vernon has transformed your living room into a scene from your favorite video game. It’s like stepping into another world. Every little detail is so carefully thought out that you can’t even appreciate it all in one look. Your feet carry you forward to examine the small things. The ones that very obviously took extra effort. You’re so busy appreciating it all that you don’t even notice Vernon coming in from the kitchen.

“I know we said no presents, but I wanted to do this anyway. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, pulling you out of your head.

“How did you…” you ask, unable to even finish the question.

“I found someone who had this whole set for their ex and wanted to get rid of it. He was practically giving it away, but I had to go pick it up like 2 hours away,” he says.

You look around and can tell the level of care that went into creating this. “That’s why you were gone when I woke up?” 

“Yeah, I left you notes on breakfast in the fridge and coffee in the microwave, but I guess you didn’t see those,” he says. 

“I’m so sorry,” you say and don’t even realize that tears started to fall until Vernon’s pulling you into his arms.

“It’s fine, what are you sorry for?” he asks, holding you tightly.

“I spent the whole day thinking you forgot Valentine’s Day and being mad. That’s why I didn’t answer your texts,” you say.

“I just figured it was a busy day and you were excited to get home,” Vernon says.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeat.

He pulls back so that he can look down at you. Wipes the tears gently away from under your eyes. “It’s fine, babe. I’m not upset at you when I can be forgetful.” 

Nobody has ever done something like this for you. You can’t imagine how long it took to transform the living room this way. There aren’t any words you can think of to express how much it all means to you, so you just press your lips against his. Throw your hands around his neck to keep him close to you. He’s surprised, at least for a second, before he pulls you in tighter against him and kisses you back. It’s not the time to talk, at least not right now. How could you have thought this man would ever forget? 

“Can I show you what I was thinking about before I realized you were already gone this morning?” you ask when you break the kiss.

“Should I be concerned?” he asks.

“Just trust me,” you say and pull him into the bedroom with you. 

Any hesitations that he may have had disappear when you resume kissing him. Your fingers nimbly undo his pants so that you can slide them down his legs. The clothes come flying off in a flurry from there, far quicker than usual for the two of you. There’s just an urgency given the way the day went. Neither of you seems to want to let your lips leave the other. As Vernon kisses down your neck, you take the opportunity to push him back onto the bed.

It’s the first time you take a second and you appreciate how beautiful he is laying on the bed. The lean lines of his muscle, his eyes hungry as they drink your body in, the way his cock rests heavily on his stomach. You need to do something, though. You nudge his legs apart as you settle yourself onto the bed between them. 

“You don’t have to…” he starts and you’re quick to cut him off.

“I want to,” you insist. 

And you do. You take his cock into your hand and lick a stripe up it. It’s not enough, though, so you spit into your hand so you can run it along his length. He shudders under your touch. Once you wrap your lips around his tip, you pull a groan out of him. For just a second, his eyes close and his head lolls back on the pillow. It’s so pretty to watch him from this angle. To know that this man, usually so relaxed and chill, is so wound up under your power. It’s not long before he’s watching you, though. Letting out a stream of praise for how good you look with his cock in your mouth. How it turns him on, how you know just how to use your tongue. You hollow out your cheeks and it’s more than he can take.

Vernon pulls you up so that he can kiss you, so hard that you lose your breath. You’re a little off balance, which makes it easier for him to flip your positions. Now he’s the one between your legs. That same fervor is back when he spreads your lips so he can lick up your entrance. He’s always been insanely good with his mouth. It’s actually unfair. When his thumb circles your clit, you see stars for a second and arch your back into his mouth. All you can do is watch as he works his tongue in and out of your cunt. The thumb on your clit is bordering on too much sensation. Makes it hard for you to watch him even though you love the sight of him between your legs. 

“Fuck, Vernon, I need more,” you whine. 

“I should make you draw it out,” he says, still so close to your pussy that you can feel his breath.

“Please, Vernon, please,” you beg. You know it’ll make him cave.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he answers.

He runs his fingers through your folds before sliding one into your pussy. The moment his mouth finds your clit, he inserts a second finger and pumps into you at a punishing pace. It’s everything you can do not to squirm under his efforts. As it is, the words coming out of your mouth are entirely incoherent. What you want to say is that he’s a god with both his mouth and his fingers. That he knows just how to fit you where you need him most. That nobody has ever felt as good as him.

What you manage to yell out: “Oh my fucking god, I’m gonna come.” 

Vernon hums against your clit and it’s all too much. Your release is nearly instant. You don’t even notice how he guides you through your high or that he doesn’t remove his fingers until your body stops shaking. Miss the way he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before kissing you. Not that you would mind. His lips wander down your neck to your chest, kissing all the way. He loves your breasts, loves the soft skin there. Loves to nip and watch the way you react. Most of all, he loves to leave marks there. Even if you won’t let him mark you where other people can see (at least, not often), you’ll always let him mark up your chest. He roughly sucks a mark into your sensitive skin and you squirm. 

Any other time, you would let him enjoy it. Let him take his time. Not today. You need to feel him. Need to have that connection with him. He seems to realize it too.

“Roll over on your side,” he directs. 

You hasten to do exactly what he asks. He slides right in behind you and you bring your leg forward a little so that it’ll be easier on him. One of his arms slides under your neck. The other lines his cock up at your entrance. He presses lightly, at least at first, giving you time before he’s fully inside you. No matter how many times you and Vernon fuck, you’ll never be fully prepared for the way he feels. It’s the most perfect type of full. Just enough of a stretch without it being overwhelming. 

It’s only a second before he starts moving, with his hand on your stomach. Not too fast. Just enough to give you the relief that you need. Not enough that it’s going to push you over the edge again. You’re still sensitive, though. The connectedness of your bodies is exactly what you need. It’s intimate in all the ways that you couldn’t tell him that you needed. But, he knows. Of course, he knows. This man knows you better than anyone else, a fact clear in how he thrusts into you.

Vernon’s free hand moves from your stomach up to your breast. He rolls your nipple between his fingers and you groan out. That’s the other best part about your relationship with Vernon. There isn’t a need for constant communication during sex. He knows what you like and you know what he likes. He knows how to interrupt your moans and your pleas. Knows when to pick up the pace. 

It’s entirely too soon when you feel your second orgasm coming on. “I’m close, oh my god.” 

“I know, baby, just come for me,” Vernon urges as he continues to thrust hard into you.

Despite that, you try to hold out because you know that he’s not there yet, can feel it in the way he fucks into you. It’s a losing battle, though, and you end up coming even harder than the first time. Vernon fucks through your high before slowing down to give you a minute to breath. Always so considerate of what you need.

“It’s okay, keep going,” you urge.

He doesn’t have to ask if you’re sure, he can feel it in the way you clench around him. Makes him groan as he moves again. You’re still a little out of it from the two orgasms, so it doesn’t register just how sensitive you are. You tilt your head so that you can kiss him. Catch all his groans with your lips. Partly since you know how much the intimacy of it all means to him. Know that it’ll send him over the edge. 

A minute later it does just that. Even though you feel spent, he manages to pull a third orgasm out of you with his own. There’s a moment when you’re both catching your breath that neither of you move or even say anything. It gives you a moment to remember just how much you love him. Vernon slides out of you carefully and you roll over so that you can face him.

“I love you,” he says with a soft smile, fingers gently moving a few strands of hair away from your face.

“I love you, too,” you say. 

“Do we have to get up right now?” he asks.

You shake your head and let him pull you into his body. His arms feel strong and safe around you. Like home, which is what he’s always been for you. From entirely too early into the relationship. A feeling that’s only grown in the time you’ve been together.

“I’m sorry,” you say again. 

“You don’t need to be, “ Vernon assures you. “I’m forgetful sometimes and you’ve been busy lately. I figured this was a good way to say thank you for everything you do.”

“What? The sex?” you joke. 

He huffs into your hair. “I take it all back.”

You pull back to look at him. “It was perfect. Almost as perfect as you.” 

A light blush creeps up. “I don’t know about that.” 

“I do,” you whisper into his skin when you cuddle back against his chest.

“We still have to cook dinner,” he says.

“Let’s just order something. I don’t want to move from this spot right now,” you say.

“We can stay as long as you want,” he says.

Forever, you think. That’s how long you want to stay with him. It’s never felt more real than it does right now. You think, by the way he holds you, that maybe he wants to be with you forever too. It may have gotten out to a rocky start, but it ends up being the most perfect Valentine’s Day of your life. 

#vernon smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #svthub #svthub.collab #kvanity #ksmutsociety #vernon x reader #vernon imagines #vernon scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #vernon fic #seventeen fanfic #vernon x you #seventeen x you

[blue-jisungs]

ACTION!

author's note. first fic of the event!!! thank u so so much @slytherinshua for making this cute banner<3

genre. crack, fluff, coffee shop au, non-idol

word count. 1048

summary. movie major!vernon decides to confess to you, lead by an impulse (and a rush of caffeine)

as creepy as it sounds, vernon has been watching you. not in a stalker way, of course, but it just so happened that you both liked the same cafe. 

and you shared the same classes, like literature. and you both attended the movie club. and! he sometimes saw you on the gym when he went to accompany work out with mingyu. 

he realised this a while ago – he has a serious crush on you. 

he adored the way you always painted your nails with a glittery nail polish, the way your h/c hair fell on your arms perfectly. you also had amazing taste – not only he loved your fashion style but also during the club discussion about movies, he realised you both share the same taste in movies. and tropes… and favorite directors. 

or when, like right now, you chewed on a straw while your gaze was stuck in your laptop. the almost coal-black coffee looked sweet as hell when you drank it. 

letting out a deep sigh you put the plastic cup away and rested your chin on your hand, looking out of the window to observe passers-by. the pleasant chatter of the people inside the cafe made it really easy to space out. 

vernon failed to notice that he let his hand lie on the keyboard, his essay turning into a bunch of incoherent letters. 

suddenly, the door opened and a gust of cold wind sneaked inside causing you to turn around.

oh shh– you looked his way, don’t look–! 

maybe it’s the day he should confess? you live once, no? he already asked his friends for a piece of advice – chan said to leave it, jeonghan insisted to go for it. 

vernon sighed, grabbing his stuff and packing his belongings. careful enough not to nudge the empty glass after his cappuccino and plate with the rest of a lemon tart, he put his precious laptop covered in stickers into his bag. drumming his fingers in thought against it for a moment, he precisely weighed his options.

whatever, he’ll try. the worst you can say is no. besides, he once described emma watson as “a bit foreign, eyes beige and hair darkish-blondish”… so, props to teenager vernon for being so creative but he won’t be so corny now. hopefully. 

maybe… i think i’m in love with you and you just gotta let my love adorn you. no, too poetic. and he’ll sound like a weirdo. no, no.

vernon ordered an americano (extra shot, extra ice, make it nice) and grabbed it, taking a deep breath. casually walking up to you, he cleared his throat.

“can i?” 

your eyes tore away from the window and a cute smile appeared on your lips, brightening your face. 

“sure, vernon. sit down, i wasn’t being productive anyways” you nodded and moved your laptop to make some place. 

“y-you know my name?” he stuttered before plopping down. here goes his coolness…

“yeah, seungkwan introduced us. and we share classes together” you nodded, observing how the gears visibly turned in his head. 

“would you like to be a part of my movie?” vernon suddenly blurted out and he felt as if the whole cafe turned quiet. no chatter, no rumble of coffee machines working and glasses clinking. just you, him and silence. 

the tips of his ears reddened but his features remained calm.

“what? dude, i know you’re a cinematography major but i’m no professional” you scoffed and started chewing on your straw again. 

“no, like… that was stupid. wh… you know what i major in?” vernon was, yet again, taken aback. you nodded, taking a sip of the black liquid. the ice cubes in your cup bounced off the plastic walls when you stirred it. 

“vernon, you’re a friend of a friend. if course i know. you know my major too, so…” you let out an amused laugh and it was the most angelic sound he’s ever heard “but is the movie like a project?”

“no… just… y’know how everyone crushes emrata, emma watson or like, emma stone?” he named all the emmas he could, seeing that clearly you were confused by his words “and you… you’re just like everyone’s favorite movie” 

“what the emmas have to do with that though?” you blinked, apparently ignoring his previous sentence. 

vernon let out a shaky breath and looked around the room. couples, students, businesses men in a hurry. everyone surrounded by the smell of freshly grounded coffee beans in the air. 

“that you’re way prettier than all of them combined. and i used to have… no, let’s not go there. i keep making weird parallels to movies but what i wanted to say is that i have a huge crush on you” the boy said, fiddling with his thumbs and missing the way the straw fell out of your mouth. his eyes kept scanning the people in the cafe, afraid to meet your gaze “if you don’t know, let me explain girl. hmm, so what i mean is that saying you’re perfect is not enough…”

you scoffed at his adorable awkwardness. his iced americano began to drip on the table long ago, a small puddle of water forming around it. 

“vernon” 

“even if it doesn’t work, it’s okay…” he shrugged, looking like he was talking to himself at this point rather than to you. 

“vernon…”

“we’ll probably fight from time to time but we’ll overcome it like it’s nothing–”

“chwe hansol!”

his gaze snapped up, eyes widening. 

“not the government name?! sorry. what were you saying?” vernon rose his eyebrows and then blinked slowly. oh he’s such an idiot. 

“you’re so cute” you snickered and leaned forward, resting your chin on your interlocked hands “sure, let’s give it a go. action! as they say on movie sets, no?” 

“wha… are you serious?” vernon couldn’t believe this. it all happened so quickly and very impulsively… and… it happened for real. 

“one hundred percent serious, you movie nerd. i thought you were cute ever since i joined that movie club… so why not?” you nodded gently and saw a white smile bloom on his lips.

“i… i kinda can’t believe it. but so… y/n, may we go on a first date then? movies?” he asked excitedly, whipping out his student id “i have discounts!”

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#svt #vernon #vernon fluff #vernon x reader #svt x reader #vernon fic #vernon fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt fic #seventeen x reader #svt imagines #hansol vernon chwe #hansol fluff #svt fluff #svt crack #svt scenarios #svt x you #svt x y/n #vernon x you #vernon x y/n #vernon crack #vernon imagines #vernon chwe

[wqnwoos]

“vernon, we need to talk.”

your arms are crossed. your brows are furrowed. your lips are set in a dead straight line. you mean serious business.

he blinks at you, confused, but shifts so he’s sitting upright on the sofa. “okay,” vernon agrees, apprehensive. he pats the space next to him.

you take it, uncrossing your arms and looking him dead in the eye, so seriously that his mind short circuits for a second — he starts panicking internally, and that means he almost misses your next words;

“vernon, we need a cat.”

before he even fully registers your words and processes his relief, you’re begging. “i’m serious, okay! i know you’re busy and i can get busy sometimes, but i really — really — really think we should get a cat.”

“o—”

“from the rescue centre! you know, the one we visit all the time. pleeeease don’t say no.”

“i mean — ”

“and i need someone to keep me company when you’re away for tour and stuff too, you know.”

“is this… emotional blackmail?”

“no! i just think we’d be great parents! we can afford it! and we’d do a really good job, especially you, ‘cause you’re so awesome and handsome and cool a—”

“alright, okay, hold on.” he snorts, holding up a hand to stop you. “you don’t have to resort to flattery.”

“so… we can get the cat?” you gaze at him with pleading, rounded eyes, and he blinks.

“i literally don’t know how you got to that conclusion from what i said,” he says dryly.

your pout is instantaneous. “vernon!”

“baby!”

“please. please please please pleeeeaase.”

his smile is borderlining a smirk by now, as he pinches your cheeks. “you’re so cute.”

“i’m not cute. i’m desperate.”

“you’re still cute.”

“usually i’d say thank you, but right now i don’t care. can we get the cat?”

vernon chuckles, looping arm around you. “of course we can get the cat. you didn’t even have to beg, you know. i was sold the moment you said it.”

your delighted beam, he notices quickly, is turning more and more sheepish as you slip out from under his arm, sidling over to a cardboard box he hadn’t even noticed before.

“so, uh… about that cat,” you begin.

“baby.”

“yes?”

“what’s in the box?”

you glance between him and the box. “what box? this box? oh! haha. nothing. nothing crazy. ha.”

“it wouldn’t happen to be… i don’t know, a cat?”

“whaaat?” you scoff at him, waving a hand disbelievingly. “a cat? a cat! pshh. what a craazy thought. imagine that.”

the silence that follows is broken by one very small, very quiet meow.

“okay, okay!” you throw your hands up guiltily. “i’m sorry, she was just looking at me with those big big eyes and i couldn’t just say no, could i?”

far from being mad, or even surprised, vernon is just entertained. “and what if i had said no?”

“i would’ve cried. do you want that on your conscience?”

“never.” he stands, opening his hands to you with a boyish smile. “now. hand me my child.”

an / thought of this idea after many many cat pics (thank you sammy perla is the love of my life). and then i sat and wrote it out in 15 mins. (could alternatively be used as a very accurate depiction of me begging my mother for a cat, except i’ve been doing that for over a decade and she only says no.)

#vernon fluff #vernon x reader #vernon comfort #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen comfort #vernon fic #vernon x y/n #vernon scenarios #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen headcanons

[ressonancee]

WESTERN WIND

Vernon is on the verge of freaking out - Vernon is chill, Vernon is calm, but everyone has a limit, and Vernon's limit is when he complains 3 consecutive weeks about his front wing and the engineering team doesn't do a thing about it.

✦ genre: F1 Alternative Universe, almost enemiers to lovers (but really just have a fight in the workplace now we are weird), smut, they do it without protection so - be safe guys love you.

✦ word count: 8.9k+ ✦ title inspired by Carly Rae Jepsen - Western wind

✦ Thea note: okay, this was a challenge!! This was written for a friend who enjoys the f1 world and isn't a carat - but we are working on it. I write for me and I write what i like to read and to me, Vernon screams lazy sex so that's that - that's really nothing more on this subject. reminder 1: i am not an english speaker so i am very sorry about any mistake but you don't need to be a bitch about it. Also, I may try to write every member but gooooood some are harder than others, and vernon was hard for me so i am sorry if the characterization is weird or when you are reading this you think shit this is not Vernon lol I reached a point where i was like yeah i'm giving up.

Vernon has always been obsessed with the idea of flying. 

Not taking an airplane-flying, but actually flying. The closest he got to this was behind a steering wheel. And he got so obsessed with the feeling - first the wind against his face, then the whiplash of going too fast.  He loved it so much that he just made a career out of it. 

And Vernon was good at it, one of the best really, first drive in his new team and all. But it is the seventh grand prix and the car still lacking and there is so much he can do with pure strength and strategy. 

He can't fight aerodynamics. He can't, and to be honest, he shouldn't do what the engineering team was supposed to. But he is one step away from getting out of the car and breaking the damn front wing with his bare hand in the middle of the box. Vernon, a lot of people don't know, but he has this kind of superpower when he gets incredibly mad his face is still calm, and nobody knows he is on the verge of freaking out.

But Vernon just handles the steering wheel to the guy next to the car and jumps off it without making a scene. On a scale of Fernando Alonso to Kimi Raikkonen Vernon leans more to Kimi's side, even though right now he may pull off a Nico Rosberg or psychological warfare like Michael Schumacher against the engineering team, he is not above it today. 

He is no Kimi Raikkone though. Vernon does prefer just being in the car. He enjoys being on the circuit running laps. He is chill with being on the go, traveling around, jumping on airplanes, and Vernon developed a near to perfect packing method - he travels with just a backpack, thanks god. Vernon doesn't love press tours, sometimes they are just insufferable. He doesn't love to have a run down when his week has been shit - trashed car or broken really. But otherwise, Vernon is cool with it, he laughs a little, he goofs with other pilots, he has friends - sometimes he goes out with Lee Chan the Haas pilot. Sometimes he cracks jokes with Mingyu and Wonwoo - the Red Bull duo. So sometimes press is actually fun, and even tho Vernon is an accomplished guy in his field pole and race win on his name he also still has idols on the paddocks because he is against names like Choi Seungcheol and Hong Joshua.

So Vernon enjoys his life really, he isn't one to overthinking about what choosing this type of life made him lose. He gained so much that it would be unfair to do that, to wonder what it could be.

But when Vernon feels like his team is not even hearing his complaint about how the aerodynamics of the car is fucked up Vernon wants to just crash the car and scream in the box. What the fuck? Fix the gooddamn wing for fuck's sake. 

But Vernon doesn't scream in the middle of the box, it wouldn't be good for the press, and Vernon is calm he is chill, but he isn't dumb. He does this when the engineering team, himself, and Choi Minho, his team principal, are in a more private area.

"What the hell? I've been complaining about the front wing since the Australia GP."

"We have been working on the wing." The engineering girl slash prodigy answers.

"And why the fuck is not working properly? This car will fly out of the track if a single drop of rain falls." Vernon continues because he is the one putting his life on the line really. Why no one is giving a fuck about what he has been saying.

"We are trying, you know about regulations we cant-" You try to say as if everybody doesn't remember that FIA is actually the worst ever and it is your job to care about regulations too.

"Oh my fucking God. I gonna crash this car in the first fucking lap I am not even kidding." Vernon says pacing around the table, he hates the whole can't do won't do FIA-related frustration. 

"Ok, Vernon you know we can't really do anything about it right now," Minho says arms crossed. "So stop bitching about it, and no you will not crash my car in the first lap you are not stupid." And now Vernon knows he can't really crash his car but he feels the urge to do it nonetheless, Minho can scrap his bank account he doesn't care, he can go fucking penny less but he will have his front wing fixed up.

 "You," Minho says pointing at you and you are actually relieved, you can take the screams of the team principal - even tho Minho is not near screaming, but taking shit from the pilot? Not gonna happen "For fuck sake take his complaint and actually do something about it for the next GP, you have like 5 people that could have been working for NASA in the team if he complains again about this mothefucker wing again I gonna have a stroke," he says leaving the room.

"Why do you guys only act when I bring Choi Minho to the room?" Vernon asks feeling dumb and to be honest disrespected. He knows he is young, he knows he is new, but he was brought to the team for a reason.

"Not that it matters," You say already picking the things around the table, probably from a previous meeting. "But he is my boss, not you Vernon."

"I am the one inside the car," Vernon says trying to attain some kind of respect or authority.

"Ok, that's not relevant to me whatsoever. I work designing a car that if we put a dog behind the wheel is gonna be fast so-" You say because you are tired this front wing nightmare has been going on for more than the australia grand prix actually, it's always the same problem, again and again, your team fixes it but it always comes back to life like a zombie or something.

"Did you just say that I am not relevant? Are you kidding me?" Vernon actually scoffs because of course he knew when he arrived in Mercedes that the team is bigger than him, he knew what all the critics said, but being treated that poorly by a co-worker? Fucked up man.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Yeah yeah yeah like Im just a dumb kid on the wheel, that's what you meant. I really thought we could build a nice relationship and all-" Vernon cuts you already opening up his overall because it is hot as fuck, like one step away from dying hot. "I guess the civil war thing going on wasn't in my plans but if you guys on the engineering want that I have no problem whatsoever in being a fucking dick."

Vernon says almost dashing to his trailer, fucking stupid overalls dangling around his waist because if one of the journalists asks him something about his wing or his time or how Kim Mingyu got the pole, Choi Minho is not the only one who will have a stroke. Health care plans and his life insurance will skyrocket.

After Vernon takes a shower, he realizes how dumb and idiotic he is. This happens a lot. Vernon doesn't really know how to deal with his rage, so when the anger dissipates, he just ends up regretting everything. 

Regretting is not even close to the proper word. When Vernon analyzes the chances of him fucking up his entire year because you simply do not rage war on your engineering team - that was like a rule, not a rule scratch that, it was a dogma. A rule you can break, if you try that shit on a dogma, you will root in hell. The hell being Vernon's worst nightmare - having the team ask him to pull aside to the other driver because he can't keep up, the reason? His shitty ass front wing.

But when the actual race comes and Vernon starts the race in third and finishes up in 5th place, he doesn't know who will drop dead first, him or Choi Minho. 

"Do we need a meeting between grand prix to fix this hellhole you guys have been calling a car?" His boss asks and Vernon can see you just rolling your eyes. Dude, that's crazy. Did you just roll your eyes to Choi Minho? That was insane. 

And Vernon coped the only way he knew - developing a wealth obsession fueled by hatred, all because you didn't give him his wing and a roll of your eyes at Choi Minho.

Before that, Vernon really didn't have a problem with you. Since he moved to Mercedes everything was great! Great team! New and more powerful car! Great teammate - Lee Jihoon, who actually took Vernon under his wing. The pre-season was great, and he didn't have problems with you whenever you two had to talk about the development stage of the car. 

Actually, Vernon finds you interesting really, that's not a lot of women in F1, and the majority of the women actually deal with public relations or team management like Kwon Boa. He always saw you around, really, always in jeans, tennis, and a Mercedes shirt. Sometimes with glasses, sometimes with a cap on. Always chatting with someone, sometimes writing things down on a notebook, sometimes explaining something. 

He didn't actually have any problems with you. He didn't have a reason, but now? Now Vernon can't really back off, can he? God, he was not a fighter and neither a hater, but he wasn't a coward either. 

So when his one-week break is cut short and people send him to Northamptonshire Vernon is angry because really: 1st he could use a few days off, 2nd between the Emilia-Romagna and the Monaco GP he had booked a crazy Airbnb in Cannes.

Now he was stuck in this hell hole of a place, in a way too cold meeting room, with like the whole engineering team and his boss. Not ideal. So Vernon's mind just wonders really, he thinks about how he needs to catch up on his favorite TV show, maybe he can check on his family later, or call his friend Boo Seungkwan - maybe he would call Seungkwan to Monaco is bouge enough for Seungkwan.

“And that's why we try to fix the front wing, but it seems like the aerodynamic problem is always back. Lee Seokmin actually did design another front wing at the start of the pre-season but you guys said that this one had a better grip” You finish the whole ppt-presentation, sometimes you hated your job so much, and by sometimes you meant the whole ppt presentation of a problem that we can`t actually fix because of regulations and because you guys main driver didn't do proper feedback in the first place. And now you have a problem in your hands, that to begin with, it wasn't even yours. 

“So the best thing we can do is?” Choi Minho asks and you laugh because right now you are not the one treating Vernon like a damn child on the wheel, it is Choi Minho, but Vernon is too engrossed in his own mind to notice or he feigns ignorance because it is Choi Minho who is talking, not you the mere translator girl for the engineering team. 

“We can try always the wet tire even if it's just light, and we can always use the soft tire at the beginning of the race it is the less durable but if he is in a good position to start with we can always call him back-”

“So, we did this three-hour meeting” Vernon actually checked his watch. It was a tree hour meeting for god`s sake. “for the resolution being soft tire and pray for a good pit stop? Are we crazy?”

“If you heard about FIA rules we cannot-” You try to speak but really, you don't even know why you start when you know you gonna be ignored by the man in the room and it’s F1 there is always a man in the room, always.

“Ok ok,” Vernon interrupts. “Just so you know that’s crazy, everything about this wing situation is crazy, we are just handling the championship, we are not even close to being - I don't know? 5th fucking place.” 

“We need to make the legal team re-analyze the rules,” Minho says contemplative and not really angry, and to be honest you wouldn't be either because it is true, but Vernon could be less bitch about it because it is not your fault either

“Just that? Ok,” Vernon says and he gets up because when Minho talks about the legal team it`s gonna take 4 to 6 days to actually find a loophole in the damn manual, but hey ok, it's fine, Vernon it’s chill, but not chill enough because the next moment his mouth is moving. “Maybe you could ask for the engineering team to work on that too I don't know just a thought” 

And you laugh, loud and clear. And Vernon is truly spooked. What the heck? Are you going crazy? Has the excruciating work and the insane hours with the weekly jetlag made you crazy? 

“Yeah Minho,” you say, picking up the papers. Why do you always pick up? Are they top-secret papers? Vernon never thought about corporate espionage, but it may be a thing. “Maybe you can ask your drivers for proper feedback when I ask them about grip and wings and start making them say whole sentences, not it's bad and a sad emoji. If we did send a form about this shit we wouldn't have this problem,” You actually leave them room, but Minho and Vernon continue listening to your voice down the hall. “Oh Vernon, how it’s going with the car. Make them say 4 whole sentences and not it's chill. Maybe that would help” and then you scream. “Just a thought."

“I mean” Choi Minho starts getting up too. “Nothing against a rivalry in the workplace, dang in my times, it was worse. But if I get an actual complaint - Humans Resources or Legal Team involved - I am so firing both of you, and I am not even caring about labor law or whatever.” 

And Vernon thinks it's weird how he was the first one to get up and the last one out of the meeting room.

So when Vernon actually arrives in Monaco - Boo Seungkwan, his best friend since birth, on his side, the civil war in his team is still going on at full speed. The tire strategy is still in place. Choi Minho still looks at him every five minutes like a babysitter. You still give a side eye every time you both share a room, Vernon is even more aware that you roll your eyes at everyone. Are you just discontent with everything?

But he doesn't think so when he sees you and Jeonghan, the team strategy, and Jun, one of the mechanics, laughing while eating lunch. Vernon is puzzled really why the fuck is he, Choi Minho, and the whole team getting side eyes and Jeonghan and Jun receiving beautiful smiles and even laughs? That's weird, more than weird, that's unfair really.

"What's going on in your head?" Boo Seungkwan asks, actually stealing a bite of Vernon chicken's breast. 

"Just, you know the whole war in the team. That's the girl that is actually making my life hell." Vernon says voice low like he is telling Seungkwan a secret, trying to be discreet. 

"That one?" Seungkwan asks loud and not caring about the top secret war going on, apparently. "Oh, Vernon, she is pretty."

"And?" Vernon thinks puzzled because really he never stopped to think about it. "Ok, ok, stop looking," Vernon says when he sees Jeonghan looking back at his table, grabbing Seungkwan and almost getting up and turning Seungkwan`s head himself. God.

"You didn't tell me she was pretty." Seungkwan acts like it was the most important thing ever. Missing the point, really, because the most important thing ever in this whole ordeal was Vernon's career and the probability of it ending abruptly. 

"Yeah, because it is not important, I mean…" Vernon trails off because again, he never stopped really, but thinking about you are pretty. Or at least not recently. Vernon thinks back when you two met in the pre-season and he may have blushed once or twice talking to you in the first days, but he wouldn't call it a crush.

"Hey Vernon," Jeonghan says, stopping at his side. "We will go over the strategy at 3 pm for the first free practice, so if you need anything, just give us a heads up before."

"Oh, sure man, actually I was thinking about the ty-" Vernon starts.

"Bye guys, if I hear one more driver talking about how they don’t want to start with a soft tire today, I'm gonna jump the nearest cliff." You say, lacing arms with Jun and just dragging him.

"Oh, she is feisty today," Jeonghan laughs. "Okay, anyway, you can bring everything to the team, right? I need to actually get some information with her so-" 

"Sure, sure man, no big." 

“Yeah," Boo Seungkwan just laughs, and laughs, he actually almost falls backward type of laughing “When was the last time you got laid?"

"Hm?" Out of nowhere? What the heck was going on in his friend’s mind? But Vernon actually needs time to think about it, fuck, when was the last time? Vernon didn’t even remember with whom. "I don't know a few weeks?"

"Months right?" Seungkwan answered in a heartbeat, chewing on a long French fries.

"Maybe dude, you know it is hard when I am always on the go." And it was hard, Vernon wasn’t lying. He didn’t enjoy the whole no-string attached really, and after he got a little famous - in a very niche type of famous he knew that, he was no rockstar type of guy, but still, he enjoyed it even less.

"Yeah didn't peg you for doing in the workplace kind of guy, always talking about how it is precious and nothing can disturb the paddock’s energy,” Seungkwan says making Vernon almost choke on his food.

“First, that is the rule that applies when you want to bring your boyfriend Kwon Soonyoung because last time he almost broke my trophy,” Vernon can actually feel the chill going through his body just remembering the scene that his traumatized brain conjures up, it was his first grand prix win and Seungkwan boyfriend almost knocked it down. “second we are not doing anything. We are actually enemies” 

“Oh,” Seungkwan stops, truly stops, dropping his fork and knife, and he stares at Vernon, but Vernon knows it is not a stare, Seungkwan is analyzing Vernon like he always did. “Well, that's even worse, because when it happens - see not if, I said when it's going to be a nuclear bomb, thanks good I am not going to Spain with you and me and my lovely boyfriend will be having a few days off in Monaco so…” 

The problem was that Seungkwan was always annoyingly right. Seungkwan was right when he said Vernon's last relationship wouldn't last more than 3 months. Seungkwan was also right about Vernon's first love and second. Seungkwan had this superpower really, Seungkwan was always there to see the picture better before Vernon did.

But Vernon always just shrugged and went to his next task, now free practice. And Vernon did slightly better than he thought - 4th place. So he wasn't actually totally dejected after the press asked him about the probability of rain. Everything was fine until Vernon saw the little orange cat hiding in the corner of the Mercedes trailer.

Vernon squatted and tried to call the little kitten really, it was tiny and made Vernon's heart break a little because when the cat was approaching him Vernon saw how he was limping, front paw looking hurt. Also, the little dude looked muddy. He may hate Vernon for it, but he needed a good wash.

"Hey," You say looking at Vernon who just started stroking the orange cat fur. "I was just-" You point at the water container.

"Ah yeah," Vernon says, giving you a nod. "I was thinking of finding something so this little guy can eat but-"

"We don't know anything around, same." You say squatting on Vernon's side and putting the container on the ground, little dude giving you both a meow.

"Could we-" Vernon starts but you just cut him.

"Make a trainee do the hard work? Make them go to the nearest supermarket, " you say, laughing a little, like you laugh with others. And Vernon thinks that maybe your brain is too fast, two-step forwards already, ahead of everyone, always.

"Yeah, I was thinking about asking someone or even the Grand Prix organizers to even get a vet around. I think something is wrong with his paw." Vernon points at the cat, and he stops for a minute thinking about how he is so used to being in the paddock but not really knowing his way around it. He strokes the cat again, almost feeling the urge to pick him up and go around asking if anyone knows a vet.

"You shouldn't be touching him." You say and Vernon feels a little offended. Did you enjoy telling him what to do? Vernon could take it, he didn't like it, but when it was about the race he could take it, but about a cat? Really? "Like, for health reasons." 

"Yeah, I was thinking about taking him to the trailer, but if he has fleas, that would be a nightmare," Vernon says hand still scratching the little cat like the rebel he was. 

"Can you-" You trail off, looking around, and Vernon can almost see your brain working inside your skull.

"What?"

"Look, we have like two options.” You say getting up and fixing your pants. And Vernon thinks that Seungkwan was actually right shit, you are actually and objectively pretty. “You can be an asshole and make someone do the job just because you are throwing a i am a star fit"

"Or?"

"You could totally do your I am a heartthrob bit on the communication team newbie, she kinda has a crush on you, so she would totally find Seb a vet place. Just don't let Minghao know.” Vernon just feels like a lot of what you just said goes over his head because it really doesn’t make sense to him, Heartthrob what? Crush who? Seb? 

"Are we calling him Seb?"

"I mean he just gives me Sebastian Vettel energy all around you know, he is kind of shy and orange," you say trying not to sound dumb, feeling a little anxious - because Vernon always made you feel this way, an uneasy feeling paired with his low voice.

"Yeah, I can see that” and Vernon smiles, dude the cat really looks like Sebastian. God - in that exact moment Vernon knows that his life is fucked up, he is picking a stray cat when the next 3 weeks he will be jumping from airplane to airplane. But look at him, Vernon can't leave Seb in a freaking paddock, in the end of the week everything will be gone.

"So? Which one? I'm pretty sure we can try just telling Minho you went rogue as the third option but…"

"The heartthrob one just-" Vernon can feel his forehead itch and the beginning of a headache. He can't do a heartthrob bit. What is he talking about? "Just show me the way."

"I need your keys," you say to Vernon, hand open in his direction "First we need a box and a towel. We can't let little Seb on the loose."

"He is a little difficult, though. Pretty sure he won't stay in the box," Vernon tells you already giving you his key.

"I think I can steal a few eggs for him on the way. If they are boiled, it won't be a problem. He seems hungry enough."

And Vernon actually plays with Seb until you arrive, a box filled with Vernon's towel - probably the one he used this morning, and a plastic plate full of eggs. And then you are already dragging Vernon around to the second task - the heartthrob bit. And Vernon thinks about how quick on your feet you are - figuratively, and literally, you walk really fast. Later, you tell him that is a job thing, not a you thing. Apparently to be an F1 engineer you need to think fast, walk quickly, and solve everyone's problems.

Vernon did the heartthrob bit - it actually ended up with the newbie taking Seb to the vet, you gave her a to-do list (1 - check his paw, 2 - check for fleas, 3 - don't forget the shots!!!) and Vernon's credit card. But Vernon still with a weird taste in his mouth. How did you know the newbie had a crush on him? That's totally weird.

But hey the trainee actually found a vet, and she brings Seb back with shots and a bath. And now Vernon is staring at his cat, thinking about how if he needs to call the hotel to check about the animal policy, maybe he could do the heartthrob bit to the hotel manager. Or he could leave Seb unattended, he could eat something, chew his race boot, or - then Vernon hears a knock, which is weird of course because Vernon doesn't actually receive visits in the motor home, people know that Vernon is sensitive about that - no fans, no press, no knocking when he is in the motorhome.

"Hi," you say as soon as Vernon opens his door, "just came to see the little guy."

"Oh, yeah sure," of course it was you, the only person who doesn't actually care about Vernon’s word and maybe well-being, but Vernon kind of understands, Seb is cute, "he looks tired tho."

"It's okay, I just came to give him some love." You say one digit going between Seb’s ear, squatting on the floor, letting Seb chill in his place, "Are you going to the hotel?" 

"I don't know,” Vernon scratches his kneck because it is true, he doesn’t actually have any idea what he is about to do, maybe he can take his race boots and everything essential so Seb doesn't chew on it, "I need to go but I can’t leave him alone but also I can’t sleep on the couch, it will fuck up my neck and also can’t just not sleep."

"You can go, I can sleep here on the bed, not a problem." You say sitting on the floor, Seb little groggy but wake, you pick him up and put him on your lap, and he just purr. What the hell? His cat is purring? For another person? What?

"I can’t let you do that,” he can’t because his cat is already in love and because he also knows that his motorhome bed is just uncomfortable. 

"Don’t worry, we are just-" you say finally looking at Vernon’s eyes, "co-parenting" You say and Vernon feels like a bomb just dropped, and the whole humanity just vanished, he can hear a pin drop.

"Co-pareting? A cat?" Vernon says like his brain is not really functioning.

"Yeah Vernon,” You start, and Vernon can see a small smile across your face, “people have different family arrangements. You, me, and Seb, divorced people with a kid, it's okay." 

"Divorced?" Vernon actually lets out a laugh, a scoff really. Why are you trying to mess with him ? This is not even close to normal.

"Yeah we are not on great terms but we sacrifice for him."

Vernon leaves - not because you said he could, not because you found a solution, but because it was the right thing to do for his performance really. Vernon leaves because his neck is a prized possession, and because he needs to sleep , he needs his best reaction time. And Vernon is an athlete. People may say that driving a car is not a sport, but people don’t know how much the g-force makes his neck almost break. But when Vernon lays in bed with his special pillow, Vernon can’t actually sleep. His mind goes back to his motorhome, to his just-for-stretching bed, and never actually sleeps. His mind, Vernon finds out, is going back to you sleeping in that awful bad, to the way you treat the little cat like it can break, and the way that every time your hand goes against the cat's fur Venon can actually feel the love.

Vernon is so fucked.

He starts to think that Seungkwan is actually right.

And Vernon can't actually sleep because you are tormenting his mind and Seungkwan's voice telling him 'I told you so' echoes in his mind.

Even tho not getting the eight-hour sleep Vernon gets what his system needs to be quick on his reactions -  Wonwoo and Seungcheol actually crash in front of him, debris over his head and Vernon has control enough to just not crash in the crash in the narrows streets of Monaco. Nightmare, really. Vernon finishes in third because of it, and even tho he is in the podium, he can't actually feel happy about it.

Maybe that's really why Vernon can't have his car with a fucked up wing because it can mean life and death. Later that day he makes sure to go check with both drivers - halo is ugly as fuck but saves lives.

Vernon is thankful that he doesn't have time to actually think about life and death because you are shoving him into a funny bag and telling him to put Seb inside and telling him that you actually are about to sit next to him. So Vernon ends up with a cat bag on his lap, Seb strangely chills about everything, your hand going inside the bag just to stroke his fur.

He ends up sleeping the flight, which is only about 1h40 minutes, but Vernon feels like he needed that nap.

The perception of time in the world of F1 is really truly bizarre. Vernon is always running, always thinking about how he can go faster, even when he is doing the press talk. Minghao walks faster, and explains everything for Vernon in 3 sentences, if it is a sponsor or if it is a journalist, if he needs to actually talk about the car, or if it is a 'content' bit. 

But when Vernon is going around the paddock and see you leaning against Jeonghan smile bright and full Vernon actually stops on his track, it is late, and everything is figured out in the paddock why the hell are you and Jeonghan laughing about?

"Come on, Vern," Minghao calls him, making his neck turn. "Come on, we have three more, and if I don't arrive in time for my dinner with Mika, she is going to kill me."

So Vernon lets Minghao drag him across the paddock. But his mind is still on the scene, you leaning and smiling against Jeonghan, and Vernon doesn't want to, but he feels jealous. He wants to be Jeonghan so fucking bad.

Vernon really doesn't have much time to think about it, he needs to sleep, watch his water intake, and think about his neck - his neck is his most important body part as a f1 driver, and he did think his neck was feeling a little funny. But every time Vernon sits and has time to himself, his brain conjures the image of you and Jeonghan in his eyelid.

Vernon doesn't think it was because of his neck or because his sleep was extremely shitty but the next day, his car crashes against a brick wall. Not great. Not ideal. Not fun either. So Vernon does what he needs to do. Even if he feels fine and got out of the car on his own, he needs his trip to the hospital. Turns out a few hours later, the medical team is sure that Vernon is not dying, but he may have a concussion.

When Vernon is back in his motor home to pick Seb back to the hotel (this time he actually made sure it was okay with the hotel's policy) he founds you lying on his useless motor home bed.

"Hey," you say getting up the bed "are you okay?"

"Yeah yeah," Vernon drops his bag on the floor and sits down by your side. "Just a concussion."

"Okay," you say, looking at Vernon, like actually looking at him searching for something. "I was scared it wasn't a pretty scene, Vernon."

"I know, but I'm okay," but Vernon is so so tired, he is okay and he feels okay but he feels the urge to just lie in this horrible bed and just stay in it, he doesn’t even care about his neck really - he can call for physiotherapy or something. 

"Still, the whole team was worried, you don’t need to act like it wasn’t scary,” you say and Vernon just feels so heavy, like his whole body is made of bricks, even tho he is ok with it, he is used to it really, but the crash still takes a tool on his body "and you should have gone directly to the hotel"

"I was just picking Seb up," Vernon just lies on that horrible bed and it doesn’t really seem that bad, or he is just so tired that even lying on the floor seems like a good option now. His mind is tired too - Vernon can’t even think.

"You didn't need to do that. You could've ringed me up, you know, co-parenting,” you say, voice small, and Vernon's hazed mind almost doesn’t catch it.

"Yeah," Vernon scoffs. Really, he didn’t even think about texting you,  "I don't think I have your number"

"Oh shit," You say picking up Vernon's phone and putting it in front of his face to unlock his phone, "ok gonna save my number you need to send me Seb pics I don't think you should bring him up, we have a week off you are probably going back to England right? You should hire someone to go see him daily or-" 

Vernon just feels the urge to actually kiss you. You are just there, cat on your lap, thinking about how Vernon shouldn't bring Seb around anymore, you are so so worried about his health and if he is getting stressed, and you go on about how Vernon just needs to let him rest in his place in England even tho it would be super hard for you because you are getting used to distress, every work day you pop up in Vernon motor home to say hi to the cat - and to Vernon, it all feels like a freaking lullaby, he actually nestles himself in the bed, searching for the better position to just sleeps. 

"See," you say to Vernon when you see how dozed off he is "you never pay attention." 

"I am paying attention," Vernon answers, eyes still shut but not actually sleeping. 

"You are not. You are zoomed out," You say, lying on his side, legs dangling out of the bed.  "What were you thinking?"

"Nothing really," Vernon says because he is not really thinking about anything concrete really, his brain is all over the place.

"Vern," you actually whine, "I thought we were becoming friends parenting the same kid"

"We are becoming friends" Vernon laughs because that is weird right? “I have your phone now we are definitely friends”

"See? So tell me, what's on your mind lately?" You try again, but Vernon just hums."You seem actually stressed lately. Is Minho bothering you? I  know the results are not great, but i promise we are trying" 

"I know, I know, don't worry about that." And Vernon feels actually bad because it is the first time he can feel that you are a little guilty, no scratch that, tired? Vernon can’t really catch the feeling, but he knows that you care. 

“I am not worried about that, I care about the results but you crashed today, the med team said you may have a concussion, and I don’t know if you are just zooming out in an ok way or zooming out in a concussion-induced way.” 

“It’s not the concussion the hospital let me go, it is just, I’m just tired” Vernon feels your hand on his hair, petting him, almost like you do with Seb, and Vernon just let himself sleep feeling the affection in the way your fingers travel in his skull. 

The thing is, even when Vernon is in his house in England he doesn't really feel at home, because it is a company provided apartment, and to be fair Vernon didn't put a lot of effort in it. So in his week off Vernon tries to focus on his physical training, on his neck, on his diet, on sleeping, but every time his phone vibrates Vernon just feels giddy and excited because 80% of the time it is just you reacting to Seb's pics Vernon sent.

Vernon tries not to think about how fast you answer his messages or how sometimes you send audio snips, and Vernon doesn't feel angry - he always hated audio message god. Vernon also hated calls but one night he actually video calls you and you are already in bed but you said you wanted to say goodnight to Seb but you and Vernon spends more than an hour chatting about nothing and everything. 

When the time comes, Vernon ponders; leaving Seb behind or actually flying with the cat. So he just calls Boo Seungkwan to babysit Sebastian - the hours of flight and the jetlag would just make him stressed, even tho Vernon thinks he is the worst person ever adopting a cat to just let him stay in an empty apartment even tho Seungkwan will make sure he is eating, and Vernon actually begged 3 times to Seungkwan check Seb's litter box.

To everyone's surprise, Vernon actually gets a pole position. To be honest, even to Vernon and his team it was a surprise, too. But it was a good one. You congratulated him, and that night, you and Vernon called Seungkwan and spent like 45 minutes talking to a cat and cooing together - like parents on a holiday.

Vernon thinks it's kinda weird really - how you two fell into this dynamic of sharing a pet, and in a way, you two turned into friends too. So when Vernon is ready to get out to his car you are the last one to greet him, and Vernon is not really superstitious but he thinks he will make sure that this turns into a new team ritual.

When Vernon crosses the finish line, he feels it - the feeling that Vernon always chased in a way. When he hears the screams and laughs on his radio, he feels he can actually let go and just enjoy. He did. He won a grand prix again.

And when Vernon is showered with champagne, hears his national anthem, and jumps to the crowd he thinks about you. He tries to find you really but Minghao just directs him to the press area.

“Hey,” you say, popping your head in the door crack after knocking on his door. “Heard you were looking for me.”

“Yeah yeah.” And Vernon feels sticky. His whole body is covered in champagne. He is looking like a mess, but god, he is so so happy. “Didn’t see you in the celebration.” 

“I was around. Saw everything, don't worry" You move and close the door acting like you guys didn't accomplish the best thing in the whole world because that's how Vernon feels like he is on top of the world. 

“No no-” Vernon's smile is so big, and he touches your arms, and he actually stops, and he looks at you. “We did! We actually did it!” 

“You did it" you say almost shoving him, but Vernon's hands don't leave your arms - hot and sticky against your skin, "don't need to be humble it was a great race on your side-”

“No no no listen, we both did it. We did it together. We are sharing this," Vernon says - smile still big across his face, he is so sweaty why do you think that seeing Vernon happy is the best thing ever? “Come on, say it”

“We did it” You say smiling, not even because you are happy with his win - you are, you are happy for the team, and you are happy for Vernon, but Vernon is so happy and in a way is so infectious you just can not smile like him.

“We sure did,” and Vernon hugs you, head dropping on your shoulder, “god-”

“What?"

“You smell nice," Vernon says voice muffled.

“Thank you, you smell like really nice champagne," you say with a laugh, god Vernon is so happy, and there is only one thing that would make him happier -

"And-” He tries to master his courage to say, “and I wish I could kiss you.”

When Vernon kisses you, he almost feels the breeze, almost feeling the physical sensations that involve flying, because, in his head, he is already 10 thousand feet high. He feels so out of it that Vernon just let you take what you want for him. God, you want so much. 

Vernon can feel it. He feels in the way your fingers hold his jaw. He feels in the way your mouth goes together, like two pieces made to fit each other. He feels in the way that you react when his hands hold your hips so tightly, whimpering in his mouth.

Vernon is not one to complain about speed, but when his whole world is spinning and everything is going so fucking fast he wishes he could stop the time, make it go backward, make it go slower. 

His whole life, he fought against the clock. If he was two seconds faster if he didn't waste milliseconds in the second curve. Vernon was always running, but now, fuck Vernon wishes he could go slow.

So Vernon chooses to take his time, not hurry. He kisses you slowly. The way that he trails his lips against your jaw is slow, and the way that his hands travel to your ribcage is slow.

"Vernon," you try to call his attention, to make him hurry, to make him speed up, but the only thing that Vernon gives you is a non-committal noise.

And Vernon thinks you are in a fucking trailer, with a not-great bed, and he has one better - bigger and with his trusted neck pillow but everything just shatters when someone knocks on his door.

And when Vernon opens the door and sees Minghao he thinks two things: Minghao is his worst enemy really, Minghao must hate him. The second one? Vernon asks himself how many wins he needs in his career to do a contract clause saying he is never doing press again, if someone asks him to do an interview or youtube content he is allowed to change teams before the end of his contract.

Vernon goes back to everything needs to move fast behavior. You two jump on a plane, and again, Vernon has his week off - while you need to go to Austria to check everything related to the engineering team. So when Vernon arrives and Seb purrs against his leg, he films it and sends it to you. When Vernon is chilling on his bed and Seb acts like Vernon's body is his personal pillow, he films it and sends it to you. When you say you are crying because you miss the cat, Vernon calls you and says you can knock on his door anytime. 

When Vernon arrives in the paddock the first thing he does is ask Jun where you were - meeting room, you had a meeting with Jeonghan and Minho, but when Vernon knocks on the door you are alone.

"You really did it." It's the first thing you say to Vernon.

"Yeah" He shrugs. "it was a promise."

"It looks good on you," you say, sitting in front of him at the table, hand touching Vernon’s hair, feeling the urge to ruffle it. 

"So, like, my last meal was airplane food, so I was thinking about taking you to dinner," Vernon says, and you just think how it is unfair that even tho he is not conscious of it, he is doing the heartthrob thing, the lazy eyes, the small smile, the unkept hair - now blonde.

"Hm-" you try your best to not just throw your papers and forget you have an actual job just because Vernon smiled at you, "I don't know if I am free, actually Minho was talking about going over the strategy with you so-"

"Yeah? Ok, I can call him and say the airplane gave me a headache so," Vernon picks his phone up and starts typing something, "I don't know Austrian food that well but we can always go to an Italian."

"Italian, I prefer Italian," you say, chin resting on your hand and just admiring Vernon. You are pretty sure if you were a cartoon, they would draw you with heart eyes.

"Nice."

You let Vernon wine and dine you. The restaurant was nice, and it was even nicer that you and Vernon sat side by side in low light, and you can just rest your head on his shoulder because you were truly tired and because every time you did that you could actually sniff Vernon a bit, and he smells so so good. 

You guys just chat about everything, and at some point, Vernon actually unlocks his phone and just lets you browse his gallery (90% of it is Seb's pics or videos, and the other 10% were the pics you sent him about your day - a coffee, a building, anything silly that made you smile), and looking at it made your heart melt.

In a silent agreement, you just hop in Vernon's Uber and end up on his hotel bed, with Vernon on top of you. 

Vernon kisses you slowly like he has all the time in the world - and you are weak enough for him, so you don't complain, you don't hurry him. To be honest you don't want him to hurry either, you are enjoying the way Vernon is nested between your legs, the way you can feel his weight on your body, and the way that his hands feel against your neck.

The way Vernon touches you makes you feel treasured, makes your heart full, and makes you want to make him feel the same way, and you try your best.

You try when your hands travel to his biceps, squeezing it the way his hands tighten against your hips. You try when your hand goes through his hair when he kisses your neck. You try when Vernon's hands travel under your shirt and you kiss his cheeks because it's the only place you reach.

Vernon doesn't think, and he doesn't try. He just does, and he accepts what you give him.

When Vernon outright grinds on you and you whimper, Vernon accepts it. When your hands claw at his shirt, he accepts, and when he gets off, you take his shirt off and see you doing the same. Vernon thinks that maybe you gonna give him more than he can take.

You don't rush him, you let Vernon watch you, but you feel rushed, so you get up as well, mouth. chasing Vernon's while you take off your bra. 

The way Vernon holds you makes your mind spin. The way his firm body feels against yours, and how his hands feel against your back. And even though you try, Vernon still kisses you slowly.

Vernon holds you when he makes you lie on the bed, "baby lemme just-" he says, giving your hips a small kiss, and opening the button of your pants, when he takes your pants off you can feel his digits traveling against your leg and you are sure he can feel the goosebumps on your skin.

Vernon's fingers close against your ankle, and Vernon brings it against his mouth, "Vern " you try to call him, and you feel dumb enough that you just beg. And Vernon kisses you again, one hand on your chest and the other grabbing your hips.

And you think you can take slow when Vernon is on top of you, legs tangled, his lips now on your neck. Every time your hips move together Vernon hums against your skin and you wish he was naked already. But when Vernon's lips find your chest you can't really complain because you feel so lost, he takes one of your nipples in your mouth, and he gives attention to the other one too, taking your nipple between two fingers and toying with it

When Vernon releases your breast with a pop you remember to call him, "Vern please"

"What?" He says hands toying with your panty line, digits hot against your hips.

"Your pants," you say, feeling your mouth dry, body buzzing.

"Oh right," Vernon says and you already feel remorseful when Vernon detaches his body from yours. 

You try to reach Vernon with your hands, palms against his skin, on his chest, on his abs, on his thighs. Everywhere - trying to placate the lack of the feeling of his body against yours. 

When Vernon finishes getting his pants off he holds your head, hand against your nape and jaw and he kisses you, and you feel a little better thinking he suffered like you did in those milliseconds that your bodies have been apart from each other.

And Vernon did, and when he stops to look at you, to really look, tracing his thumb against your mouth and you open just enough for your tongue to lap at his digit Vernon thinks he is going crazy. 

God, you are just so pretty on his bed, hair messy, trails of his kiss against your skin. Vernon knows he is so fucking lucky, and if he could he would stop the time, he would treasure every second - he would go so fucking slow he would make the clock go backward. You, however, don't really care, you just touch Vernon, hand under his underwear giving his dick a few pumps while Vernon's hands leave an imprint on your ribcages.

Vernon helps you a little, one hand on your hips and another one lowering his underwear, his dick finally free. When Vernon looks down, he can see how red his skin is - a blush coloring his chest, he can also see how your thumb just goes smoothly against his cockhead and Vernon thinks he might go insane.

"Do you need to-" Vernon asks while trying to return the feeling, hand going to your clothed pussy, pressing against it and making you whimper.

"No, no, I am ok," You say, almost in a way to make Vernon hurry up, "You can just fuck me."

"Yeah yeah ok," Vernon says, and you can feel the way his dicks enters you while Vernon's tongue lick his lips.

Vernon fucks you slowly, body pressed against yours, one of his hands holding your head - almost pressing you against his, his lips never leaving your cheek. And it is almost excruciating - the way Vernon fucks you, so slowly and yet so fucking good.

You try to tell him in the way your hands hold his neck, the way you feel his shoulder blades under your hands, the way you want to touch the expanses of his back. 

It's good, and you could live like that - in Vernon's warm embrace. But you are feeling desperate enough so you just beg, "Vern, faster", and not a second late Vernon is fucking you harder. He picks himself up, knees on the bed, holding your legs on the side of his waist. And god he hits you so deep, you just need a little more.

"Fuck you are so hot," Vernon says almost there when he sees your hand toying with your clit.

"I am so close," You say to him and you can feel how his hands tighten against your thighs, how he picks up his pace, how he fucks you harder.

And then it washes over you, and it hits Vernon - because of the way he continues to fuck you after it, but then you can feel his body against yours, his mouth chasing yours, and you just laugh between kisses because yeah, Vernon is a lazy kisser, that just how he is, but goddamn you love it.

In that weekend Vernon makes a ritual of kissing you, he kisses you every time he can really, but he makes a point of stealing a kiss before the free practice - in his motorhome. He does it again before the race, he ends up in second place. He kisses you again when you jump at him saying that he is the best - and he wants to argue because he just ended in second place, but it's you so he just takes it.

When Vernon is showered, clean, and not sticky from champagne he sees you sleeping in his horrible motorhome bed, and he just can't let you - you guys have a flight to catch.

"Hey, come on let's go home, Seb is missing you," Vernon says trying to wake you up.

#t: chwe hansol #Vernon fanfic #Vernon Smut #Seventeen Fanfic #Seventeen Smut #Vernon Fic #Seventeen Fic #t: writting #t: seventeen #svt smut #choi hansol fic

[fairyhaos]

[16:23 PM] — vernon .

306 words, fluff, childhood friends to ??

"I think we should get married."

Your best friend, lounging around on your bed, flinches so hard that his phone slips from his hand and hits him in the face. "Ow. Uh, what? Like, right now?"

“No, silly," you say, rolling your eyes. "I mean when we're older. We should marry each other."

Hansol sits up, frowning. "Why do you want us to get married?"

"Just because," you say, shrugging. "I wouldn't mind marrying you. If we don't get married by, I dunno, 27, then why don't we marry each other?"

Hansol tilts his head. "I dunno, Y/N. I think you should marry someone you love, rather than someone you 'don't mind'. Marriage is kind of a big commitment, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," you say, spinning around and around in your desk chair, "but I can't think of anyone else I'd like to make the commitment with."

"Yet," Hansol adds, and you shrug in acknowledgement.

"Sure. Yet. And if that 'yet' never comes, for me or for you, then we can marry each other. Right?"

You watch your best friend mull over your words, eyelashes fluttering thoughtfully before he nods and then turns back to his phone. "Okay."

"Wait." You blink. "Just like that? You're fine with it?"

Hansol shrugs, tapping away at his game once more. "If you wanna, then yeah. I wouldn't mind marrying you."

He looks up at you, eyes caramel gold in the light streaming through your bedroom windows, the corners of his mouth lifting upwards slightly.

"But really, I'd love you to marry me, not because of tax benefits or anything, but because—"

Hansol pauses there, and you slow down the spinning of your chair, bringing your ankles upwards to cross your legs. "Because what?"

He hesitates again, before smiling once more, soft and pink. "Because you love me."

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms @eightlightstar

#k-labels #uhhh guys ill add tags ib a second bear w me #fairyhaos.works #svt #seventeen #vernon #hansol #seventeen fic #vernon fic #svt fic #svt vernon #svt x reader #vernon x reader #hansol x reader #vernon chwe #chwe hansol #seventeen x reader #seventeen vernon #seventeen hansol #svt hansol #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #vernon fluff #hansol fluff #vernon imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic

[wheeboo]

10:18pm | hansol vernon chwe

SYNOPSIS. in which it's late at night and your boyfriend is walking you home. PAIRING. hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. one kiss, terms of endearment (babe) WORD COUNT. 962

notes: inspired from a tiktok i found but can't find anymore since i like too much shit lmao </3 but u might know what i'm referring to

"Nonie?"

...

"Vernon? Babe?"

...

"Hansol Vernon Chwe!"

"Huh? Yeah?" Vernon finally diverts his attention back to you, right after you lightly swatted at his arm. He takes out his earphones and peers in your direction, watching the way the gentle breeze in the air flies through your strands of hair and the way the dim, overhead streetlight accentuates the small pout to your face.

Your pout gives way to his attentive gaze at you, his eyes softening as he focuses on you completely.

"You were completely zoned out," You tease, voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the peaceful atmosphere that's settled between you two at this hour. It isn't new where the two of you find yourselves trailing within the neighbourhood at night, especially since Vernon always insists on walking you home safe and soundly.

Vernon grins, his lips curling up in that familiar way that makes your heart skip a beat. "Sorry, just got lost in the music for a bit." He gestures to the phone in his hand, still softly playing the melody that had captured his attention.

You roll your eyes playfully. "Well, you missed the question I was trying to ask you."

Vernon's expression turns curious as he tilts his head slightly, adjusting his beanie. "What was it?"

He swears there's an almost-mischevious glint to your eyes that he pinpoints, or perhaps it was just the streetlight above that illuminated your face in a particular way. He purses his lips together with a patient look, waiting for you to ask the question you had been seemingly trying to ask him for the past few minutes.

"Do you think we're together in other universes too?"

Immediately, he feel his brows furrow together. Out of all questions, that question caught him by surprise, and he certainly wasn't prepared for it either. Vernon takes a moment to think, his gaze wandering briefly away and down the empty, quiet street you both are walking down together.

There's a faint smile to his face though𑁋he likes to think that yeah, in some way shape or form, you both are intertwined together too. He really likes that thought, to be honest. It's probably definitely entertained his mind a plentiful amount before, but it isn't until you mentioned it that it finally emerges out from deep within his thoughts. And knowing you're having those same kinds of thoughts makes his head spin.

"Like... you know those two cats that we sometimes pass by while walking?" You ask, kicking a branch down the pavement. "Maybe they're us, you know? Then in another universe, those cats are humans or aliens and we are the ones that they pass by."

And then your eyes glow even brighter before Vernon could even respond.

"Maybe! Maybe in a different universe... we're actually two rocks and we've been together for millions of years, slowly eroding side by side, getting rained and stepped on, but always touching in some way." Your thoughts are exploding with possibilities at this point, and Vernon takes it as an opportunity to admire the way your eyes seem to glisten as well, taking in every single one of your words amusedly. "Or maybe we're two trees who have grown together, and our branches are touching."

This makes Vernon direct his attention down to your hand, which is just inches away and barely grazing against his own, swinging slightly as you walk. Slowly, he takes your hand into his, and at first you don't seem to notice, but your fingers naturally lace together either way. It really gets his mind thinking about all the times he's thought about how your hands fit together almost too perfectly.

Maybe, in other universes, you both are meant to be connected in some way.

"You're really cute, you know that?" Vernon comments after you've ceased your rambling.

"That's what you're going to say after I've finally emptied out my brain? Confessed my undying love for you?" You huff annoyedly, but you don't let go of his hand, instead only tightening your grip on it.

"Well, I know that if you were a rock, you'd be a pretty one, like one of those you'd want to pick up as a lucky charm," he states. "and if you were a cat, you'd be these awfully clingy ones."

You gasp dramatically. "I am not clingy!"

Vernon just chuckles, bringing your interlocked hands up to eye level. "You're squeezing my hand really hard right now."

"That's because you're annoying," You quip, though your grip on his hand barely relents𑁋just enough to make sure you weren't stopping the blood flow through his arm. After a few moments of silence, your eyes catching sight on your house ahead, you bring yourself closer to him, knocking your shoulders together. "But... do you think we're together in other universes too?"

He doesn't give you an answer right away, only waiting until you open the front door to your house for him to land a quick, chaste kiss to your lips. It catches you off-guard, somehow leaving you utterly breathless even after you bid your goodnight, I love yous to each other, but it's enough to answer your question.

He hopes it does anyway. If it doesn't (or if it does, yet you're in need of constant reassurance), he wouldn't mind answering yes in other ways too.

Your lips still tingle with the feeling of his kiss as you close the door, a giddy smile playing on your face.

When Vernon walks back to his own home, he catches sight of the two cats you mentioned before watching him with their bright, curious eyes. One of the cats starts clawing at the other, pressing its body against the other playfully, much like the way you pressed your shoulder against his earlier.

A soft chuckle escapes his lips.

Yeah, he says to himself. Maybe those cats are us.

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