hansoulchews

[hansoulchews]

[hansoulchews]

PURITY — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. you finally let your hot college boyfriend take your virginity. <3

wc. 1.2k

warnings. virgin f!reader, fingering, corruption kink, virginity loss, heavy praise, big dick!gyu, size kink &lt;;333— MINORS DNI 18+

note. hehe mingyu ur so … !!! my chest hurts

navigation — masterlist — feedback/requests

college hottie, kim mingyu, has a big dick and a high libido. he knows, all of his friends know, and all of the girls know. it’s not hard to miss… with the evident dent in any pair of pants he decides to wear and the way he proudly carries himself, even being as humble as he is. even with a sex drive as high as his, he’s willing to wait for you, his precious virgin girlfriend. that’s what he told himself, at least. 

but kim mingyu was never one for patience– you knew that, so you were quick to try and please him. 

“gyu… i think ‘m ready…” the words came out of your mouth so meek and docile. that was all it took for him to jump your bones, knowing exactly what you meant. it’s almost as if he was counting the seconds till you were ready.

now, with tears streaming down your flushed face, he has three of his fat fingers shoved inside your incredibly tight cunt cooing at you. “baby, don’t cry, look at you doin’ so well for me,” the smile on his face is a stark contrast from his wicked movements, yet the words make you tighten around them. mingyu’s smile widens at the feeling, “good girl,” he praises once more, hearing the high-pitched moan he’d been waiting for slip from your now-swollen lips. 

your back arches off the bed with the impressive speed of his fingers plunging in and out of you. the way his fingers stretch out your cunt and make you feel so full, you’re not sure how you’ll ever take his cock. ​​it hurts, but it also feels… sensational. with every second that passes, you find yourself growing more aroused, pure ecstasy on the tip of your tongue. 

you whine, teetering on the edge of an orgasm, needing one last push, “mingyu! more! wan’ more, please!” 

mingyu groans at your begs, feeling his rock-hard cock twitch in his pants. “fuck, baby, wanna try takin’ my cock? promise ‘m gonna make you feel so good,” 

you don’t have the patience to object or hesitate. you nod, vigorously, head spinning with need and pleasure. you trust mingyu with your life, he would never do anything to deliberately hurt you. though, doubts begin to form once you finally see how big he actually is. 

he catches your intense stare, noticing fear flooding your eyes, “‘s not gonna hurt, pretty girl,” he murmurs, leaning in to peck your lips. “got you all ready for me, ‘s gonna feel good. breathe ‘n trust me, yeah?”

you nod again, hesitantly, watching as he lines up the bulbous head of his fat cock with your drooling pussy before taking a deep breath. he inches in slowly as he’s met with a bit of resistance. soft cries of his name fall from your mouth as you feel every inch of him sliding in between the soaked gummy walls of your cunt. 

“‘m-m right here, sweetheart, i gotcha,” he moans, taking a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly. he looks at you with hearts in his eyes, witnessing your contorting face– eyes screwed shut and brows scrunched together as your mouth is slightly cracked open letting your honey-laced voice free. “god, you’re so perfect, baby, so good f’me,”

his words head straight to your aching pussy, clamping down on what you hope is half of his dick. when he bottoms out, you feel his fat tip kissing your cervix. thanks to his extensive prep, it didn’t hurt as bad as you heard and thought it would’ve, instead, feeling an immense amount of pleasure and satiation. “gyu, fuck!” you mewl. 

he groans as you grip him like a vice, choking out a soft, “how are you?” 

you can’t hold back your voice,“‘s deep! so big, gyu, o-oh fuck,” you cry. “s-so full, mingyu, can feel you here,” your hand guides him to your lower tummy. “so good, so so good,”

mingyu takes this as his cue to move, slowly sliding out before slamming back into you, cock throbbing with the desire to release. “gonna make you cum,” he keens, repeating his actions with more aggression. “gonna make you cum so good, baby, you’re such a good fuckin’ girl, all f’me,”

you mewl for him once more, squeezing his hand with force as his cock consistently fucks in and out of you, abusing your already battered cunt. all of a sudden, you feel the nimble fingers of his free hand on your swollen clit, rubbing sweet circles into you. you pant, chest heaving up and down at the unanticipated impact. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck, gyu… mingyu!” you squeal. 

your body feels like it’s on fire, a new commotion bubbling in the pit of your stomach— like a knot begging to snap. mingyu can tell, the high-pitch squeals, shrieks, and moans of pleasure, you’re about to cum for the very first time and he’s about to be the first and only to watch it all unfold.

it’s already so loud, too— the consistent sounds of him slapping against you, your cries and pleads, his deep groans and soft praise. you’re sure mingyu’s neighbors can hear you. hell, the entire student apartment complex could probably hear you.

“cum f’me, baby, you can do that f’me, yeah?” he grunts, ramming against your cervix and his fingers brazenly picking up the pace on your clit. 

the pleasure… it’s too much for your poor, corrupted body, the second he tells you to cum for him, you do so. your first, of many, earth-shattering orgasms has your thighs convulsing and your back slightly arched under him, eyes rolled back and inaudible noises coming out from your mouth.

he beams, moaning happily at the way you clamp down around his cock for the nth time, “oh, fuck yeah, you’re such a good girl,” 

it’s better than he could have ever imagined. you look so perfect under him, moaning, shaking, cumming all because of him. he can’t even help the fact that he’s fucking you through your climax, desperately chasing his own.

he chuckles, breathily, his cock twitching inside of you. without warning, he moans softly, “cumming, shit,” pulling out and fisting his wet cock up and down with pure need. throwing his head back, the adam's apple in his throat evident with his gulps and whimpers. soon after, he shoots out thick, white ropes of cum onto your twitching body, dressing your bare tummy and swollen pussy with the sticky substance that is completely foreign to you. he rides out his high, pumping slower and slower each time before finally gasping for air. 

he collapses next to you, turning to face you in a defiled state, “you doin’ alright, baby? did i hurt you?” 

you whimper, desire filling your body once more after witnessing his release, “wan’ more of your cock, gyu, already love it so much,” you pout, giving him cute doe eyes that he simply can’t resist. “wan’ feel your cock in me again… ‘s so good.”

everyone knows kim mingyu has a high libido with the constant thirst for sex, but he may have just turned his precious little virgin into a spoiled, corrupted cockslut. 

© R-KiVED — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[hansoulchews]

weave your little webs of opacity - hvc

title: weave your little webs of opacity pairing: hansol vernon chwe x gn!reader genre: fluff, spiderman!au, roommate!au w.c.: 3.4k summary: vernon hates keeping secrets from you a/n: yall can’t tell me this man doesn’t have spiderman energy like his the spiderboy

“Shit, shit, shit,” Vernon curses as he glides through the skies of New York. This is the third time this week he’s going to be late to dinner and his roommate is going to absolutely annihilate him for it. Even though it’s not his fault that some guy tried to start a fight in the street.

Vernon loves helping people, he loves being Spiderman, but he does not love the consequences it comes with. The thing is it’s not even the consequences of leading a second life or constantly being in a state of beat and bruised, no its the consequences of his roommate. If he was being honest Vernon is more afraid of you beating him up than any New York thug or random villain he comes in contact with.

A sigh of relief escapes Vernon’s lips as his apartment comes into view. He lands on the fire escape before quickly slipping into his open window. You guys live in a pretty discrete area of town which Vernon is thankful for.

Vernon doesn’t get a moment of peace though because before he can even change out of his suit you’re banging on his door, loud enough to disturb the neighbors. “HANSOL VERNON CHWE IF YOU DON’T COME OUT AND EAT DINNER RIGHT NOW I’M BUSTING THIS DOOR DOWN AND DRAGGING YOU OUT HERE BY YOUR HAIR!”

Strangely enough you seem to be in a good mood.

Another thing Vernon is lucky for is the fact he’s a frequent fire escape user. It’s rare for him to use the front door to enter the apartment, so it’s never strange for him to emerge from his room without you even hearing him come in. It’s another way he can pretend he’s been home for longer than he actually has, as well.

“Give me a minute!” He shouts back as he quickly changes clothes. He grabs a couple of wet wipes off his desk and does his best to clean up without having to walk out of his room to the bathroom. 

Right as Vernon opens his door your fist is about to connect with it again, nearly hitting Vernon in his nose. He quickly grabs your wrist and pulls it away from his face.

“Took you long enough,” you scoff before pulling away and walking to the kitchen table. “What have you even been doing in there?”

“I have a lot of classwork and I had my headphones on, I’m sorry, I’ll be more considerate next time,” Vernon promises as he sits down at the table.

“You better be. The pasta is getting cold.”

You two eat in relative silence, more focused on stuffing your faces than making conversation. You have the TV playing in the background, a habit you picked up from your dad, and Vernon glances over to see the local news.

“Oh fuck,” he curses, fork dropping onto his plate. 

“What?” You turn in your seat to look at the TV.

Playing on the screen is a clip of Spiderman, of him, from earlier today after he stopped a robbery in a convenience store.

“S-sorry, I just wasn’t uhm, wasn’t expecting to see a robbery so close to our apartment. People these days huh.”

“Yeah…we’ll have to start locking our windows, and by we, I mean you. You know I don’t like when you come in through the fire escape,” you chide. Okay Vernon can admit he walked into that one. “You know for all the popularity he’s gained, that Spiderman guy is still quite a mess.”

“Hey!”

“What? It’s true! He’s kind of sloppy, and look at his supposed supersuit, it’s weak. Not to mention with such mixed opinions on him it’s created conflict in the city.”

“Well what are…your opinions on Spiderman?”

“He’s…fine. He cleans up the minor crime in the streets which is nice, but he also seems to be making more problems. First off he’s so showy, everyone knows who he is, it’s like he’s planting a target on his own back. Then there’s the news coverage, you can’t watch the daily news without some kind of Spiderman issue. Don’t you think he’s a little bit cocky as well? Doing all those flashy tricks and thinking he can save the whole city by himself. It’s a little pretentious.”

If Vernon was being honest he was expecting you to be neutral on the situation, not negative. His roommate, his best friend, thinks he’s pretentious. You also made fun of his costume which like hey he knows it’s not great but he made it himself and he’s proud of it.

“I don’t think he’s that bad,” Vernon defends, “he’s just doing his best to do his part. If you had super powers would you not use them for good?”

“Didn’t know you were such a Spiderman fan there Nonie. Sorry for talking about your guy crush like that,” you tease. “Anyways, I don’t think I could have any superpower that would be more helpful than the one I have up here.” You tap at your skull. Of course. You’re hands down the smartest person Vernon knows, skilled with technology and science and math and everything Vernon is not.

The rest of your dinner goes by without any more talk of Spiderman, to the relief of Vernon. The previous conversation sticks with Vernon though, your words floating around in his brain as he lays down to sleep. He wonders if you would like Spiderman if you knew it was him, or if you would still like him if you knew he was Spiderman.

“Help! Someone please help!”

Vernon zips through the buildings as he follows the faint screams. His day has been fairly tame, not much crime to stop, until now that is. He comes upon the alley the screaming is coming from. 

A girl is being backed into a corner by two men as another one is being held down by a big burly guy. The men have knives on them, it seems like they’re trying to mug the girls. Of course, typical day in New York.

“Hey! Why don’t you try and pick on someone your own size.” He shoots a web out at the biggest guy, pulling him off the girl he has pinned down. He throws him across the alley, slamming him into the wall. 

“Aw look, the little spidey boy came to save the girl. How sweet,” one of the guys drawls, venom seeping from his tone. “We’d like to see you try.”

“Oh I’ll do more than just try,” Vernon says before shooting around another web. It hits short of the guy and he laughs, staring at it up above his head. Unfortunately for him, while distracted, he doesn’t notice the way Vernon is swinging in to kick him right into the wall. He hits the brick with a loud thud and a groan.

Two down, one more to go.

The final guy takes a swing at him with his knife, but Vernon’s senses are too good as he jumps out of the way. That doesn’t stop him though, and he lunges at Vernon, this time catching him by the arm. Vernon’s senses may be good, but he’s still a bit new to this superhero thing.

The two struggle on the ground, throwing punches at each other. At one point the man’s knife nicks Vernon across the face and he hisses. Over all of the tussling and playing around, Vernon grabs the man by his neck and squeezes a bit before using all his strength to throw the man into the wall. He too hits with a grunt. He staggers to his feet before calling to the other men. The three take off claiming it’s not worth it anymore.

“Thank you Spiderman! Wow you really are special!” The two girls run up to his side, grabbing at his arms.

“Nothing too special ladies, just doing my job. Allow me to walk you two home as well, as it’s getting dark.”

“You’re such a gentleman!” The two squeal.

“Anything to keep the city safe.”

Vernon walks with the two down the streets, catching a few glances. The two girls seem giddy, giggling a bit to themselves. During the walk he learns their names are Cherry and Samantha and they’re both his age. Finally the three come up to an apartment building and they stop outside.

“Once again thank you Spiderman, you really saved us.”

“No problem ladies. Now if you ever have a problem again, just call.” With a wink Vernon shoots a web and swings off, leaving the two to squeal to themselves.

A sense of accomplishment sits in Vernon’s chest as he climbs through his window. It’s not that late either. He quickly changes into his day clothes before heading into the living room.

“Y/N? You home?”

“Yeah I’m in here!” You call from your own room, the door cracked.

Vernon heads in that direction, opening the door fully. “Whatcha up to?”

You look up from your desk only to gasp. “Vernon, what happened to your face.” You quickly stand to greet Vernon, your thumb reaching up to brush against his cheek. He hisses a bit and pulls back, your thumb coming away red with blood.

Right. The muggar’s knife.

“Oh I uh, fell skateboarding earlier. Forgot about it, but a rock must have cut me up. You know me, clumsy as ever.”

You look a bit skeptical but don’t mention it. “Well let me help patch you up. Go sit.”

Vernon, not one to disobey you, goes to take his seat at the kitchen table. You come back with the first aid kit before sitting down yourself. You take the time to alcohol wipe the cut before applying some ointment and then placing the bandage. Vernon ignores the way his heart speeds up.

Okay, here’s the deal, Vernon wouldn’t say he a crush on you…but there is some kind of attraction. You’re smart and kind and talented and know how to make the best home cooked meals ever so of course he may harbor some less than platonic feelings for you. BUT he’s not going to do anything about it. You guys are best friends and roommates and he’s not going to ruin that just because you patch up his boo-boos every once in a while.

When you finish up you start to pack everything back away in the first aid kit. “Hey skater boy it’s your turn to make dinner. Let’s watch a movie while he eat today, yeah?”

Yeah, there’s no way Vernon is going to ruin this just because of his stupid feelings.

Vernon really needs to work on his time management. He’s late for dinner, again. How does this keep happening? It’s even worse because it’s his night to make dinner too.

The thing is he’s not even late because of Spiderman things today. He’s late because he was studying at the library for his next test and now he’s going to have to deal with not knowing the material and not having a fed roommate.

He’s quickly crawls into his window, out of breath. He turns on his desk lamp only to jump out of his shoes. You’re sitting on his bed, bouncing your leg.

“Jesus Y/N what are you doing?”

“What am I doing? I should be asking you what you’re doing…Spiderman.”

Vernon stops in his tracks. “W-what?” Curse his voice crack.

“I’m not an idiot Vernon, you should know that.” Of course he should. You’re the smartest person he knows. “Coming home late. Random cuts and bruises. Being gone whenever Spiderman is in action. Having the same mannerisms and voice. Spiderman wearing the same sneakers you do. Not to mention I saw part of your costume in your laundry when I was switching it over so I could use the washer.” 

How did Vernon ever think he could fool you? Of course you figured him out. You’re Y/N L/N. Who was he to think he could even fool you.

Vernon just sighs and pushes his hair back. “So…what now?”

“I should be asking you that. You’re Spiderman.” 

“You think I’m pretentious and sloppy,” Vernon blurts out. It’s been on his mind since the conversation that night. He doesn’t get why it bothers him so much, maybe because it’s you.

“Yes I did. I had a suspicion you were Spiderman at the time, I wanted to see how you reacted. Not to mention I do think Spiderman is a bit pretentious and sloppy. You’re new to the hero thing, I get it, but you could use some major upgrades,” you tell Vernon.

“Oh I could? And…you could make that happen?”

“Of course. You underestimate me Chwe.” You stand and leave Vernon’s room, giving him no choice but to follow you. “I wasn’t lying when I said I found Spiderman sloppy, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t take an interest. You know me, you know I love to use my mind when I can.”

You lead Vernon to your room where you boot up your large PC and monitor setup. You click through a couple of files until you give one final tap and a few windows pop up on your screen. The foremost one is a design. A spidersuit design. 

The design is a lot more advanced than what he’s wearing now. Well what he’s wearing now is just a pair of joggers, a long sleeve compression shirt, and his homemade mask so yeah it’s not great. The design is cohesive. It looks to be made out of spandex or some kind of tight stretchy material. It’s an all black suit with thin white spindles on it, resembling spider legs. A big red spider sits at the center of the chest part and red accents surround the large white eye pieces and the feet and fingers of the suit, almost like they’re spray painted on.

“You made this?” Vernon looks between you and the screen.

“Of course. It’s only a prototype.”

That’s something that will never not amaze Vernon. You’re so intelligent and you don’t even bat an eye at it. You don’t stay on the spidersuit though, you keep talking about technology and spreadsheets and lots of things Vernon would only somewhat understand if you had half the brain you do.

Vernon doesn’t know how to respond to any of it other than, “You…you wanna be my computer guy?”

“When you- what?”

“You wanna be my computer guy? I thought you…didn’t like Spiderman.”

“I don’t like Spiderman, but I like you.” You stand up from your desk. “So if you’re Spiderman…I think I can make an exception.”

“You really care about me that much?”

“Are you stupid? Of course. You’re my best friend and I care about you and if you are committed to this superhero thing then I want to make sure you’re gonna be at your best. So, will you let me help?”

“Of course! I- I’m going to be the best superhero ever.”

“Hey and even if you’re doing this superhero thing…you still gotta make dinner.”

Vernon grins. He’s glad that no matter what, you won’t change. “Deal.” He sticks his hand out and you grab it and shake his hand.

“Speaking of which…that’s your job tonight.” You wink at him and he can’t even complain, making his way to the kitchen to make dinner.

It’s been a few weeks since you discovered Vernon’s secret and if he was being honest, things couldn’t be better. The supersuit has not only proved to be useful in many ways but it’s also upped his credibility with the authorities.

You’ve also proven to be more than amazing as his tech guy. You not only update Vernon on the crime in the area but you also keep him safer than he could on his own. You also keep him company through your communication device when he’s got nothing to do on patrol.

“There seems to be a disruption a few blocks away from you. A girl seems to be getting harassed by a couple of drunk guys.”

“On it.” Vernon jumps off the roof he’s on and starts to swing in the direction you tell him.

On the street two drunk guys seem to be harassing a girl who’s trying to fight them off, pushing past them and telling them to leave her alone. Vernon flies in and quickly binds the two together by his webs. An easy fix for a minor problem.

When the two men are under control Vernon looks to check on the girl, only to see its the same girl from a few weeks ago.

“Oh Spiderman! You saved me again! Thank you so much!”

“Well you seem to be an everyday damsel in distress. Cherry, right?”

“Uhm yes. Wow, I can't believe Spiderman remembered my name.” Vernon notices the light blush spreading across her cheeks.

“Here, lemme walk you home again.”

Cherry is quick to grab onto Vernon’s arm as he guides her back to her apartment. She makes idle chatter with him, even complimenting his new spidersuit. Once again when they get to her apartment they stop outside.

“Thank you so much for saving me. And walking me home.”

“Of course. Just doing my job, keeping the city safe.”

“You know…this is kind of embarrassing to admit but you’re kind of my celebrity crush.”

“O-oh!”

“I know it’s silly but c’mon you’re Spiderman! You’re cool and nice and you’ve saved me twice now. So just know that if you’re ever free on a Friday night, I will be too. You know where to find me. Have a good night Spiderman!” With that Cherry presses a quick kiss on Vernon’s cheek before running into her apartment building.

Vernon’s not sure how to react. Sure he’s aware that people have crushes on Spiderman but no one’s ever been bold enough to make a move. The kiss and Cherry’s words stick in Vernon’s mind as he heads back home.

It’s quiet when he climbs in his window and he wonders what you’re up to, no word from you since the tip about Cherry. Vernon changes and cleans up before heading into the kitchen. There’s still no sight of you and Vernon frowns, heading towards your room.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” He gently pushes the door open to see you sitting at your desk, staring at the surveillance cams. “Y/N?”

“What?” You spit out.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“If you’re going to mess around and flirt with girls and whatever you want to do, maybe you shouldn’t be Spiderman. When you decided to help the city you took on a responsibility but if you’re not going to take it seriously and use it as a way to pick up girls then forget me trying to help,” you tell him.

“W-what? Is this about Cherry?”

“‘Oh Spiderman you’re so strong and handsome. You saved me. Please go out with me.’ Don’t act like you weren’t loving it.”

“Where is this coming from? I was just being nice, it’s not my fault she decided to confess to me.”

“She doesn’t even know you! She just cares that you’re Spiderman, she doesn’t know you. You’re Vernon, you like Avril Lavigne and skate boarding and cheeseburgers and for some reason you love Star Wars in the most geeky way ever. You’re allergic to peanuts and like cool shoes and everyone who likes you just because you’re Spiderman are superficial and lame because I like you just for being Vernon Chwe.” 

It takes Vernon a second to process what you’re saying. It’s nothing near what he was expecting but it still makes his insides warm nonetheless. “You- you like me?”

“Shut up! Yes!” You shout in frustration. “I don’t put in this much effort for everyone, stupid. And I get you don’t like me back but I’m just saying don’t settle for people who like you just because you’re Spiderman because you’re a lot more than that.”

“Woah, woah, wait. Y/N, hey.” Vernon grabs your shoulders to get your attention. “It’s your turn to shut up now. Who said I didn’t like you back. Dude I’ve liked you for like…over a year now.” You stare at him a bit incredulously. 

“Why didn’t you say anything asshole!” You shove his shoulder.

“I wasn’t going to mess up our friendship!” Vernon defends himself.

You scoff, “Like I would let that happen. Be real Vernon.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He goes quiet for a moment before continuing, “So…is this when we kiss or?”

“Oh my god you’re so lame!” You laugh. “Who knew Spiderman had zero game.”

“What happened to I’m more than just Spiderman?”

“Oh my god just come here,” you mutter before you pull Vernon into you. Vernon smiles against your lips and feels you smile back as well. He thinks that if this is his superhero story, you’re the best ending he could get.

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[hansoulchews]

the bore next door (j.ww)

Jeon Wonwoo is not dull, nor is he the clean and polite neighbor that your mother assumed he was when she set you up on this awful date. 

or the one where wonwoo takes you home on the first date and renders you unable to walk, hoping to god that you don’t expose him to your parents.

ao3 | minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog, i will kiss your forehead so fucking fast if you do. 

WORDCOUNT― 8.8k

PAIRING― wonwoo x afab reader

CONTENT― strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, reader is a teacher but this is not a school setting, mocking and making fun, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky wonwoo, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed

WARNINGS― small mention of other teachers cheating on their spouses (very tiny mention), the resistance of pressure to fall in love/have children

NOTE― I repurposed an old wip for this because putting this mf in the main role hit harder than it should have. that being said, don’t expect me to write men often like this, i just thought it would be neat to make him take control. this is not proof read.

smut tags under cut:: 

Keep reading

[hansoulchews]

info: bestfriend!vernon/fem!reader; best friends to lovers au, non-idol au || word count: 1186

featuring: svt's maknae line and red velvet's yeri

genre: fluff, romance

warnings: mentions of alcohol and being drunk

summary: you didn't know what had changed but something felt different about tonight... and maybe, just maybe, that meant your best friend reciprocated your feelings.

song inspiration: kiss me - sixpence none the richer (fully recommended that you listen to the song while you read for the vibes)

note: this came to me at 1 am while I was trying to fall asleep listening to the inspo song but the heat wouldn't let me (it's currently summer where I live); it's also a christmas gift for you Holly even though idek if you celebrate the holiday bUt you're the best 💖 I feel like it came out a little ooc for Vernon but it is what it is

permanent taglist: @twogyuu @wondernus

Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance

Silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me

"Are you sure you won't fall on your back?"

Your head was pressed against the chain holding up the swing you were sitting on as you looked up at Vernon, who held you by your shoulders and looked down at you with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Vern, I'm tips-sy... not drunk... I'll be fine" you gave him a reassuring smile in spite of your slurred words "besides its not tha-t big of... a fall and the ground is cushioned"

You kicked your feet under you to make your point. The whole playground was cushioned so the little kids who used it by daytime wouldn't hurt themselves if they fell.

"Okay, I'll be right back" he let go of your shoulders and took a few steps back "don't move"

"I won't"

You watched him jog across the street and dissappear inside the only convenience store that was open this late on your small hometown. Swinging back and forth softly, you took a deep breath to calm your racing heart.

You didn't know what had changed but something felt different about tonight. Your feelings for Vernon had more or less always been there, that much you knew for sure. He had been your best and closest friend for so long, it was only natural that you felt so fond of him.

But tonight at Seungkwan’s house party, you had felt hopeful that Vernon maybe reciprocated your feelings. You had arrived together, as you always did, but instead of letting himself be dragged around by Chan to mingle with the new people at the party like he almost always did, Vernon had remained stuck by your side almost all night.

He had made sure to secure you some drinks, refill your glass when you asked and made sure you felt comfortable all along amongst the new people - friends or partners to your other friends - present that night, because he knew that new social environments made you a little nervous just like him. Now, it wasn't as if he didn't keep an eye on you prior to this night but he certainly had never before kept his hand on your back or shoulder at all times. Mostly because he wasn't one for displays of affection in public.

While his attentiveness and constant presence next to you had made your heart flutter, it was only when your friend Yeri stole you away for some girl talk and asked if you two were a couple that you truly realized your best friend was acting rather different. Bolder. And you liked it.

"Y/N?"Vernon startled you out of your reverie and you lost your balance, his arm shooting out to grab your elbow and stopping you from falling backwards.

"Why did you scare me like that?" you slapped his thigh when he sat down on the swing next to yours "I could've fallen!"

"I called your name but you wouldn't answer" he replied as he put the straw on a capri sun before handing it out to you "what were you thinking about so hard?"

"A-ah nothing special" you wave your hand dismissively at him and don't miss his raised brow in your peripheral vision "I was s-spacing out"

"Sure..."

Vernon watched your profile as you sipped on your juice. The more he analyzed your features and how they softly glowed under the moonlight, with the fireflies dancing around on the stretch of grass behind you, the faster his heart raced.

This way of ending your nights out was a staple in your relationship. You always stopped at the same playground on your walks home because it was right in front of the convenience store where you bought snacks or drinks to sober up.

He didn't know when or how but somewhere along the way in your many years of friendship and these quiet summer nights enjoying each other's company, he fell head over heels for you.

Vernon thought that maybe his feelings would go away once you were both off to college and met different people. But every summer through college and even when you got works in the city, when you returned to your hometown for a week or two and spent time together, his feelings kept growing inside his chest and anchoring themselves there.

It was one night the summer prior where you had gotten wasted that the hope you could reciprocate his feelings became feasible. He still remembered giving you a piggyback ride back to your house because you couldn't stand on your own two feet and how you whispered against his ear that you could never settle down with any of the people you dated because you kept looking for what you had with him in others and no one could compare. That you would love it if down the line you ended up together.

But of course, drunk as you were, you didn't remember anything the next morning and he kept the secret to himself. That is, until Seungkwan and Chan interrogated him about his - in his friends words - 'lovesick puppy look' that he supposedly kept giving you when you weren't looking.

"Did you buy another one?" Vernon was startled out of his own reverie by your words.

"Yeah" he took the aluminum package out of the plastic bag in his hand and stuck the straw in it before giving it to you "here"

"Thanks Vern, you're the best"

He chuckled at your compliment as he prepped another juice for himself. Then, as another staple on these nights you shared, he laced his free pinky with yours... and nearly choked when you intertwined your whole hands together.

"W-what are you doing?" the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

You didn't know what had possessed you tonight, what was making you act on your desires - like holding Vernon's hand - all of the sudden. Maybe it was that you were still a little drunk. Or maybe it was the fact that Yeri had asked if you minded if she introduced Vernon to one of her friends that had attended the party, given that you weren't an item and her friend was interested.

"You know, funnily enough Yeri thought we were a thing" you wanted to facepalm yourself for blurting your thoughts out, but especially this one "I told her no so she wanted to introduce you to her friend"

"I... I don't know" you said, sounding unsure.

"I mean, I d-don't mind, I actually—"

"Oh"

"Yeah... she thought you were cute and was interested" you sighed.

"I'm not interested" you turned around to look at Vernon and he was already looking at you with a gaze so intense your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

"Why?"

"Because I'm already interested in someone else"

"Oh" your heart squeezed on your chest.

"Want to know who it is?" he tilted his head to the side and the small soft smile on his lips made you nervous.

"Sure..."

"Don't sound so disappointed" he leaned as close to you as the swing allowed him to "it's you"

"What?" your eyes widened in shock.

"I like you" Vernon said as he pecked your cheek right at the corner of your lips.

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[hansoulchews]

VERNON SHADOW + MARCH + HOT (221213)

[hansoulchews]

perpetual midnight

♡ pairing: vernon x reader

♡ genre: strangers to lovers, light angst

♡ word count: 5.4k

♡ warnings: slow burn-ish, occasional cursing, a little sad, yearning, i talk a lot about oranges and washing machines

a/n: inspired by the faulty clock we had when i was little, my love for the nighttime, and also by my landlord who won’t let us get a washing machine in the apartment (fuck landlors btw, landlords dni) i hope you like it, i hope you’re having the loveliest of days/nights, and if you have any thoughts or feedback about this i’d love to know <3

masterlist

♡ ♡ ♡

Sometimes, when it’s late enough at night yet early enough in the morning, your skin stops feeling like your own. Everything feels stuffy, as if even the air in your lungs turned to concrete, and you become a stranger in your own head. Sometimes, you get the urge to walk as far as your legs could carry you, far enough that the neighbourhood isn’t yours anymore, where no one could recognise you.

The feeling keeps you in its hold, constant pressure on your throat, cold sweat down your back in the heat of the summer, and you close your heart to keep it all out. You stare at the stripes of the light on the ceiling that filter in through the blinds, the bumps on the uneven wall, the peeling sticker on the corner of your mirror. The whirring of the fan in the corner of the room keeps you grounded, a single car passing by outside your apartment complex taking your thoughts far away.

It used to be different.

The night used to feel like getting half of a peeled orange from someone you love – a gentle brush of fingers, a smile you keep to yourself, and a quiet thank you. Something that made you feel like you weren’t seconds away from turning transparent at the edges.

Now it’s something that coats your whole being in a sticky layer you can’t wash off, keeping you in place, then pulling you under like waves, sinking until your feet touch sand. You wonder if maybe one day you’ll be too far gone before the sun finally peeks out from behind the city.

Your alarm clock’s buzzing pulls you from your unending thoughts, almost as a gentle reminder that you’re still here.

00:00

You never really figured out how to turn the factory alarms off, even after having read through the user manual multiple times front to back. It became part of your routine, and now you’re almost grateful whenever hearing it.

You close your eyes, attempt to count the stars on the inside of your eyelids, relax your toes and fingers one by one, but sleep still doesn’t come. You turn on your side, glancing at the hamper by the door, and you wonder when you last did your laundry. Another look at your clock before you finally decide to get up to collect your clothes from around your apartment. Still in your pyjamas and slippers, but now with a bag full of dirty laundry, you make your way out into the warm summer night.

The night is quiet, save for an occasional car speeding past you while you walk silently towards the laundromat. It’s a comfortable distance from your place, just far enough to clear your head, but not far enough that the dark of the night seeps into it. The lights inside blink in rhythm with the neon sign by the entrance, and the small bell above the door signals your arrival to no one in particular. You like the reminder that you’re still here.

Your favourite washing machine – the one that occasionally spits your coins back out –, waits for you patiently with its mouth open. You feed it your clothes and some money, and as you press the start button it returns your coins. The machine comes to life with a beep and a satisfied hum, water gently filling it up.

You sit down in front of the washing machine on the floor and count the bubbles inside while there aren’t too many. The laundromat is almost perfectly silent, save for the faulty air conditioning unit by the entrance that reminds you of its existence with an occasional drop of water landing in a well placed bucket underneath.

You wonder if anyone ever empties it.

The fluorescent lights lazily blink down at you, keeping you company as you wait for the washing cycle to finish. You’re lost in thought when the glass door at the front creaks open and a boy walks in. Soft music spills from his headphones as he walks past you, visibly surprised by the fact that he’s not alone. He moves to the other end of the store, stuffing his own laundry into a machine. He fishes some coins out of his pockets, metal clinking as he throws them in one by one. You hear him press start, but you don’t hear the familiar beep and hum. He presses the button a few more times before realising that it’s a lost cause, instead looks in all his pockets but comes up empty handed each time. He briefly looks your way, and you take pity on him, grabbing your own charge.

You jingle the coins and stretch your arm towards him still seated on the floor. He shoots you a puzzled look before walking closer.

“You sure?” His voice is hoarse, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while, and his eyes flicker between your palm and your face.

You shrug, shaking the coins around a little, and he gently scoops them into his own hand, walking away with an unsure ‘thanks’. Your skin tingles where his touch lingers, and your mind wanders to peeling oranges in the warm sunlight of an afternoon.

The machine beeps once, then twice, the door clicking open as your laundry finishes. You move the wet pile into the closest dryer, coins clinking, your finger already on the start button when you’re reminded of the boy. He’s sitting in a position similar to how you were mere minutes ago, his eyes closed as he listens to his music. You awkwardly shuffle over to him, gently tapping his shoulder to get his attention. His eyes snap open, his headphones off his ears so he can hear you.

“Hey, uh,” you start quietly. “Do you… Y’know, have money for the dryer? I can wait for you if you, uh, if you want?”

His mouth forms into an O, and he only thinks for a second before replying.

“Is that alright?" He sounds just as unsure of himself as of putting his laundry in with a stranger's.

You give him a slight nod, and he simply mimics your action in response.

"I take it you don't do this often?"

"I- No, my roommate kinda, uh, broke our washing machine at home." He grimaces at his own words so you don't press him further, giving him an understanding look and a tight lipped smile instead.

You're thankful when a beep, then another, ends the silence, and you walk back to the dryer to wait for the boy to move his laundry over.

Clink, push, beep, hum.

You've always found comfort in small rituals like doing laundry, washing the dishes, pitting cherries and peeling oranges. Giving someone half, offering to dry their laundry, slapping a mosquito on their arm then saying sorry. You think about summer nights and your childhood room, climbing out windows at night as a teen just to go for a walk. Making playlists for people who don't know your name anymore, and drying someone's laundry whose name you don't yet know. You wonder if you ever will, if he even cares, if you're even supposed to have a name in each other's lives.

You wonder if he wonders.

You sit in silence together on the cold tiles, blink in time with the lights above you. One beep, then another, the door clicks open and you're already pulling your things out, folding them neatly on top of the machine, while the boy stuffs everything as is into his bag, making you scowl. He notices your displeased look, his face heating up for some reason, almost embarrassed by accidentally letting you in on something so personal. It never bothered him that he doesn't like folding his clothes, but somehow now that someone else knows, he feels almost bad about it.

"I'm just not good at it," he says, almost as if to save his own conscience.

"Do you want me to..?" You look at him expectantly instead of finishing your question.

He looks between you and the crumpled clothes in his bag, then lets out a sigh and dumps everything next to your pile. You motion for him to step closer, wait for him to hold one of his own shirts up, and you take one of yours, slowly going over the steps with him. He makes wonky work of his laundry, but still looks satisfied with the result, a curious smile on his lips as he thanks you. You return his expression, turning back to your belongings to start packing up. The boy looks at you a bit longer, seemingly lost in thought.

“When do you think you’ll be here again?” His words make you whip your head towards him.

‘What?” The confused look on your face makes him laugh.

“So I can return your money.” Your silence makes him keep going. “Or the favour, whatever, I just don’t like… Owing people things.”

You grimace at his words, letting a laugh slip out before you can stop yourself. You tell him that he doesn’t need to pay you back, but he keeps insisting.

“If by any chance we meet again, then fine.”

Your words don’t satisfy him, made obvious by the scowl on his face, but before he can say anything you’re already leaving. The door jingles and creaks, and you give him one last wave before walking into the night.

He wonders if he’s dreaming.

-

The small alarm buzzes gently next to your bed. It’s been a few days, maybe weeks even, since it was last midnight. It fills your chest with something – something that makes your skin tingle and your face warm, something that reminds you of drinking cold milk straight from the fridge after a nightmare. A car speeds past outside as you gather your dirty laundry, keys and coins jingling in your pocket as you make your way down to the street.

The sky is clear, a few clouds swimming past in the black, stars winking in and out of existence. The night is warm and stuffy, a fine sheen of sweat glazing your skin already. Despite the urge to go back to your bed and lay under your trusty fan, you set off towards your destination. 

The door of the laundromat is propped open with a barely alive potted plant when you arrive, and you immediately notice that the air conditioner’s dripping has ceased. The bucket underneath is bone dry.

You wonder who emptied it.

Your favourite machine is unoccupied as usual, however the one to its left is sloshing around a load of laundry, the timer telling you that it hasn’t been long since it got started. You look around to see if you missed someone, but the place is once again empty. You shrug to yourself and stuff your clothes into the drum.

Clink, push, beep, hum.

You take a seat on the tile floor, the cold of it a welcome feeling against your warm skin. You watch the machine fill with water, count the bubbles until a mosquito landing on your knee distracts you. The other washer beeps right as you slap the small insect, then again as you observe the remnants on your palm. You wipe it on the floor, smearing someone else’s blood on the tiles. The clock above the entrance reads midnight, the arms ticking in place. A beep, then another, and you move your laundry to a dryer, patiently waiting for the cycle to finish.

You like the repetition of folding laundry. Most things never really feel like they’re really part of your life, however exciting or important they may be. Once something is gone, it becomes only a memory. You like the repetition of folding laundry, the same as you like your alarm going off at midnight, and the same as you like counting bubbles in washing machines. The permanence of your clothes needing to be washed makes you feel oddly safe, and you hope the clock at home still reads midnight when you get back into bed.

You’re halfway out the door when someone slams into you, and you both stumble to the ground. You mutter an ‘asshole’ under your breath, still facing the concrete sidewalk. Wincing slightly you move to get up, but you only manage to push yourself up on your forearms when a hand reaches out to help you.

“I’m so sorry,” you hear a familiar voice from above you. You ignore his hand and finally sit up.

He tries to explain himself, but stops mid sentence. A loud sigh leaves his lips and he puts his hand in your face again, waiting until you finally take it. He helps you up, his touch lingering on your fingers as he awkwardly looks you over.

“You, uh, you okay?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. You nod in response and he nods back at you.

“Is that your laundry?” You look towards the row of machines, and the boy confirms your suspicion. “I thought those socks were familiar.”

“You looked at my socks?”

“They have skateboarding dinosaurs on them, of course I did,”

His cheeks flush pink, and his gaze falls to the ground. In the momentary silence you watch how his eyelashes almost touch his cheeks, how his hair is messily pushed back, and how he always has a hand in his pocket. His headphones rest around his neck this time, but you can still make out something faintly playing from them. He suddenly looks at you, his face unreadable as he fishes around in his pockets. He pulls out a handful of change, quickly counting it right on his palm.

He takes out some and holds it out towards you, a small smile on his lips as he puts the rest away. With a raised eyebrow you look between his palm and his face, and he rolls his eyes at you.

“For last time.” You tell him you don’t take money from strangers, which makes him laugh. “You can ask me for my name, you know.”

“What makes you think I wanna know? And I told you to keep the money.”

He hums quietly, his eyes tinted red with the bright ‘OPEN’ sign blinking next to him. His other hand finds one of yours, gently pulling it towards him and lets the coins fall into your palm. They’re still warm. A gentle brush of fingers, a smile you keep to yourself, and a quiet thank you.

“I told you I don’t like owing people things,” He lets go of your hand and you feel your face heat up. “I’m Vernon, by the way.”

“Well, Vernon, I think you should get to your laundry then. See ya.”

You gently bump shoulders with him as you walk past, and you turn back to give him a smile. He’s almost frozen in place as he watches you cross the street, finally coming back to his senses when a car drives past.

“Hey!” He yells towards you and it makes you stop in your tracks. “Can I get your name?”

“If by any chance we meet again,” You yell back. “Then maybe.”

His hands find themselves in his pockets once more, and he shakes his head with a laugh almost on his lips. You wave at him as you start walking again, and he finally makes his way inside the laundromat. That night he folds his laundry the way you showed him, and thinks about how warm your skin felt against his. 

He wonders if he’s going to see you again.

-

The next time it’s midnight you’re having a hard time pulling yourself from under the breeze of your fan into the sweltering heat of the night. Somehow you manage to anyway – pyjamas and slippers; then clink, push, beep, hum. You’re alone with the broken air conditioner, sweat rolling down your forehead and your back, and you’re tempted to climb into one of the washing machines and press start. Instead, you opt to lie on the floor on your back, however dirty it may be, it can only be better than the suffocating heat. You close your eyes and listen to the quiet rumbling of the machine.

The cycle ends with a beep, then another, startling you from your position. You get up slowly, your eyes adjusting to the fluorescent lights.

“Oh, good, I was getting a little worried,” The voice comes from behind you, making you jump and almost slip on the pool of sweat you left behind.

“Don’t- Fuck. How long have you been here?” You turn to Vernon, your heart still hammering in your chest.

“Not that long, didn’t want to wake you though.” You tell him it would’ve been nicer than being scared like this, but he only supplies a grin in response.

You move your laundry to a dryer and lean back against another machine. The clock above the entrance still reads midnight, and for a fleeting moment you wonder what time it might actually be. You decide you like thinking that it’s always midnight when you do your laundry, as if time stops, waiting for you patiently to wash away everything that happened since the last time you were here. You wonder if Vernon exists outside of this laundromat and midnights.

He’s standing in the same position as you when you look at him, and your eyes meet briefly. Just then, both machines beep in unison, so you get to work folding, and he moves his wet clothes to a dryer. You’re ready to leave when he speaks again.

“So… Can I get your name?” You think for a second before ultimately deciding to tell him. He repeats it quietly a few times, almost as if he was tasting the word, rolling it around his mouth. Then he looks back up at you. “Do you wanna go get ice cream?”

“Now?”

“There’s a convenience store a few corners away.”

Another bead of sweat rolls down your neck, but you’ve grown too fond of keeping him on his toes, for some reason. You like repetition, folding laundry, running into Vernon whenever it’s midnight, peeling oranges, and giving him change for the dryer, his skin on yours.

“If by any chance we meet again-”

“Then maybe?” He laughs, bright and full of something you can’t quite place.

“You know it.”

The walk home goes by way too quickly, your mind too occupied with Vernon to count your steps or the cracks in the sidewalk. The night is quiet, even the gentle breeze blowing past you doesn’t make a sound. You think about the boy who barely knows anything about you, yet his face lights up whenever he runs into you, and about how many times you might’ve missed each other before.

You sit on the stairs in front of your apartment complex until you hear birds singing.

-

Midnight. Again. Maybe forever.

You stand outside the laundromat, studying the stranger inside. He’s standing by your washing machine, the one that occasionally spits your coins back out, reading the peeling instructions on top of it.

You walk inside and towards the corner that Vernon usually occupies, but seeing the room from that angle makes you feel a little too weird, a little too unfamiliar. You’re about to stuff your laundry inside when you spot a lone sock in the drum, one with skateboarding dinosaurs on it. You immediately recognise it as Vernon’s. Unsure what to do with it, you hold it up in front of yourself.

“Hey, sorry to- Oh, I must’ve left that in there earlier!” the stranger is suddenly next to you, pointing at the sock still in your hands.

“This is… yours?”

“Well, my roommate’s, he just asked me to bring his stuff along too. Do you think you could help me a little? I’m not really sure how any of this works.”

And you do, even if it makes you feel seasick to stare at someone else’s clothes spinning around in your favourite washer. Vernon’s absence especially makes the night feel like it’s not midnight anymore. You feel out of place, your fingertips transparent and your heart beating like an out of tune piano. Being at the laundromat alone somehow feels like a broken promise, even though it really shouldn’t. You used to come this late to be alone, to take your time walking there in the dead of the night, only going back home once the birds started singing.

It used to be different.

You’re sitting alone at the table, peeling an orange all by yourself, keeping half in case you get to give it to someone you love.

The stranger, Vernon’s roommate, moves his pile to a dryer, asking for your help once again. And you do, even if he’s the one washing Vernon’s silly socks. You later learn his name – Chan, maybe – and you ask about their washing machine. You also learn that it was Vernon who broke it the first time, and now also a second.

“I’m starting to feel like he’s just gonna keep coming here, instead of getting it fixed again.”

Chan laughs it off, but for some reason it makes you feel like you kept that half orange for a reason.

The walk home feels longer than usual, and you’re asleep by the time a bird outside your bedroom window starts chirping.

-

The next time you go to the laundromat you’re so happy with your favourite spot being empty, that you don’t even notice the boy at the other end of the room. You jump a little in surprise when he clicks the door of the machine closed, and he’s already smiling at you when you turn towards him. He greets you first, patiently waiting for you to load your own laundry. The two machines start at the same time, and Vernon takes the chance to walk over to you.

“So… Do you wanna go get ice cream?”

And you don’t think there exists a midnight where you say no to him.

The way to the convenience store is as short as Vernon had said, it being only a few corners away from the laundromat. He opens the door for you, letting you in first into the small shop. A young girl is working the register, not paying much mind to your arrival as she blows another bubble with her gum. You find your way to the freezer in one of the corners, only to realise that the small store only sells one type of popsicles. You glance at each other in the cold blue of the freezer, a warm smile on your faces, and Vernon lets out something akin to a giggle. He takes out two bars, pays before you even get a chance to take out your money. Something about paying you back, even though he already did.

You walk back in comfortable silence, both of you too occupied with the frozen treat in the summer heat to bother with talking. You sit on the curb in front of the laundromat, kicking pebbles and tracing patterns in the concrete with your eyes as you finish your popsicles. Your eyes move from the ground to his face, a lopsided smile on his lips as he studies your features.

“There’s a little something…” his hand hovers over the corner of your mouth, his finger gently wiping the remnants of your ice pop away. His skin is cold against your lips, even more so when you can feel your face heating up, the tips of your ears almost on fire. A blush creeps up on Vernon’s cheeks, his hand still frozen in place. He looks like he’s about to say something, but the words die in his throat. Instead he hurriedly gets to his feet, offering you a hand that was burning a hole into your skin mere seconds ago. There’s something in his eyes that you haven’t seen before, something that makes you wonder if he’d take half an orange from you.

You finish the rest of the process in silence, starting the dryers at the same time by accident, folding your clothes in perfect harmony.

That night you leave without a promise, and Vernon doesn’t ask for one either.

-

You spend the next few midnights alone. 

It’s weird, really, how something that used to be comfortable feels so foreign now. Being alone at the laundromat is like a puzzle with a missing piece. Except this time, you don’t have to look on the front of the box to figure out what goes in the empty space. Occasionally your eyes flit to the other end of the room that’s usually occupied by Vernon, only to be met with a lonely row of machines.

You like repetition; that’s why it’s especially hard on you when Vernon stops showing. You ask yourself if it was just proximity that made it feel like something, something that maybe it wasn’t. You think about how he stopped bringing his headphones, how he bought you an ice pop, how his skin felt on yours.

The washer beeps, and you move your laundry to a dryer.

You look at the clock above the entrance, but instead find a lone hook in its place. Your head feels fuzzy, filled with static and something akin to nostalgia that turns your stomach sideways, then upside down. The beep of the dryer is drowned out by the ringing in your ears, your eyes desperately trying to focus on something that’s not there anymore. 

You spend the next few nights alone.

-

Clink. Push. Beep. Hum.

You sit in silence in front of the washing machine, count the bubbles until you can’t anymore. The laundromat is deserted as usual, and the air is stuffy even with the entrance left wide open. A mosquito lands on your knee; all it takes is one swift slap, then you wipe the remnants on the floor next to you.

“Wow, vicious,” comes from above you, almost making your heart jump out of your chest. “Want some?”

Vernon sits down on the floor next to you, holds out a popsicle and waits for you to accept it. You do, with a barely audible ‘thanks’ and shaky hands. You notice that he doesn’t have a bag this time, but decide to say nothing.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah, my roommate insisted on fixing our washing machine.” The question is on the tip of your tongue, how come you’re here then?, but you stay silent again. Vernon looks at you, his eyes sparkling like the night sky – full of stars and wonder. “But I missed you.”

He says it so simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You want to tell him the same, that the place doesn’t feel the same without him, and neither do you. As much of a stranger you might be in each other’s lives, he still feels like part of it all.

“I fixed the clock.” You give him a look that makes him blush and smile anxiously. “I just- I noticed you looking at it and it- it wasn’t working.”

You can feel the tears burning the corners of your eyes, and you do your best to blink them away. A few stray drops roll down your cheeks, and it makes Vernon apologise. He leans his shoulder against yours, stutters as he goes on about how a cogwheel got caught on something and that’s why it was stuck at midnight. You turn your head to look above the entrance.

01:35

Sugary liquid slowly drips down your fingers. Vernon is eyeing you cautiously, waiting for you to say something, anything. A drop lands on the floor right next to the mosquito that you squished earlier. Somewhere in the distance there’s a beep, Vernon already on his feet before you even fully realise where it came from. He moves your laundry to a dryer, throws in some coins and presses start. He sits back down next to you, fiddling with the stick left from his popsicle. You turn towards him and he does the same, your faces suddenly a lot closer than ever before. You’re still looking for the right words to say when he speaks again.

“Can I kiss you?” His eyes trace the lines of your face, resting on your lips before finding your gaze again.

You want to say yes, even more than that you want to say nothing and just press your lips against his. You search his eyes for something, but you only find the most beautiful midnight you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t rush you, almost as if he knows what you’re going to say.

“If by any chance we meet again, then maybe,” you tell him with a smile, and he mimics your expression.

He helps you fold your laundry, does it the same way you showed him the first time you met. Then you’re standing outside the laundromat, the ‘OPEN’ sign reflecting in his eyes and painting both of you in red.

You don’t have to wonder if you’re going to see him again.

-

00:47

When you arrive, Vernon is already sitting on the curb in front of the laundromat, laying back on his elbows and looking up at the sky, an empty popsicle wrapper next to him on the ground. You sit down next to him in silence, bump your knee against his to greet him. The moon is round and close, as if you could reach it from the tip of your toes. Stars blink down slowly at you, a plane flying past them, a lone red light in the black of the sky. The warm night air makes your chest feel tight, so you close your eyes and lay down on your back on the sidewalk. Your knee is still against Vernon’s, and he gently places a hand on it, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

You know it’s not midnight anymore, but you’re still waiting for your alarm to wake you up, having to realise that you’re sleeping under your fan still. The buzzing never comes. The night stays silent, and Vernon’s warm skin stays against yours.

“I take it you haven’t broken your washing machine at home since?” You ask, opening one eye to look at him.

“What- I didn’t- Did Chan tell you that?” He seems both embarrassed and defeated, but he still smiles down at you. You nod in response. “He made me get it fixed… again. I mean I did break it, but it was an accident I swear.”

“I’m glad it happened.” You sit up, his hand still on your leg. “Ask me again.”

It almost comes out as a whisper, and he thinks for a long moment before realising what you mean. But then his eyes sparkle brighter than any star in the sky.

“Can I kiss you?”

His voice is soft, and so are his lips. He tastes like oranges, and his hand on the back of your neck feels like the warm glow of a sunset. He kisses you slowly, once, twice, until you feel lightheaded. You’re lost in the feeling, your fingers tangled in the front of his shirt, your head spinning like the inside of a washing machine.

He pulls away first, rests his forehead against yours, his chest vibrating with laughter when you quietly gasp for air.

“Ask me again?” You breathe the words against his lips, and he does, kisses you again with hunger and love, his hands cupping your face softly. 

You ask him again, and again, until you’re laying under your fan in your bed together, the birds singing outside your window.

-

Somehow, he manages to fit into your routine as if he’s always been part of it. It’s still weird seeing him outside of the laundromat and midnight. You realise he’s even prettier in the morning light of your room, his voice even softer, and his touches even more gentle.

Somewhere along the way, your alarm stops buzzing at 00:00.

You peel an orange and give him half – Ask me again? He tastes like a gentle brush of fingers, a smile you keep to yourself, and a quiet thank you.

[hansoulchews]

little secrets

pairing: vernon x gn!reader

word count: 1.2k (basically)

summary: a night routine with vernon. you both are very normal and super discreet about how much you love each other.

extra stuff: established relationship, no plot, not even a little bit. slice of life (?)

the moment you hear the shower turn off, you drag yourself from the comfort of vernon’s bed and head toward the bathroom to do your night routine, tired but eager to spend your final moments of the day with him. as you walk closer to the bathroom, you can hear the music from vernon’s shower playlist blend with his own mindless hums and mumbles. he’s already opened the door, as if to wordlessly invite you inside. the moment you step inside, your first breath is full of steam laced with the scent of sweet citrus soap. vernon looks up from towel-drying his hair to shoot you a sleepy smile and you return the gesture. with his music continuing softly in the background, the two of you commence your night routine, exchanging details about each person’s day in the process.

i. teeth brushing

Keep reading

[hansoulchews]

mixtape #17: track 1. with you, i'd dance in a storm | choi seungcheol / s.coups

word count ꕤ 4.6k pairing ꕤ seventeen's choi seungcheol / s.coups x female reader

tags and warnings ꕤ childhood friends to lovers!au, brother's best friend!au, just straight fluff, basically no plot just fluff

songspo ꕤ fearless [fearless taylor's version] synopsis ꕤ he's the typical boy next door; the one your mother would dream that you would end up with from the moment he helps you up after falling off the new bike you were yet to learn to ride. you wish you'd end up with him too, but you're separated by hundreds of miles for college and the first summer back will also be one of new experiences with a familiar face.

author's note ꕤ i'm so sorry it took me so long to get another part out :( i'm back at school and it's taking up so much of my time but i really want to keep writing, so i will try my best! this, however, is not my best work but i really just wanted to get something out. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy :)

hyung line masterlist | maknae line masterlist

ꕤ

You haven't been home in almost a whole year; expensive train tickets and your parents' desire to come to see you instead preventing you from returning even for the national holidays. At the end of your first year away at college, you had managed to take a leave from your coffee shop job in order to return home for an undefined amount of time before you returned for the fall.

Upon taking your first steps back on home soil, you noted the air smelled cleaner- something you and your lungs so dearly missed in the big city. You were excited to be back with all the memories of all your favourite activities to do in the town flooding your thoughts as you made your way to the exit. It was 8 PM now, but maybe tomorrow you would take a walk along the cliffs and down to the shore to feel the sea breeze on your skin again. Though expansive, the Han river could just not compare to the feeling of the wind and the sounds of the sea crashing onto the rocks.

"Welcome back," a familiar voice snaps you from the plans you were crafting in your head and you were left to face your twin brother. He takes your bags from your grip and opens the back of his truck.

"Jeonghan," you smiled softly. It had been a while since you felt the familiarity this town and the people in it gave you, "I thought Dad was going to pick me up."

"I was already out and about," he shrugged, wrapping you in a warm hug, "How was the trip?"

You clambered into his passenger seat and snort lightly at how the interior hasn't changed; peeling and always cluttered, "It was okay. Had someone sit next to me for half the journey so it was a little bit squished, but otherwise, it was quite quick. My bags were a pain to get on and off the train and around the station."

Jeonghan chuckled, "If I didn't know any better, I would have thought you were moving back. What did you even bring?"

"It's just my clothes and some shoes!" you defended, "To be honest, I might have overpacked."

"Might?" he gave you the side eye before starting the ignition, "Anyway, they're waiting for us to get home. Mom prepared a huge feast; I don't know how we're going to eat all of that!"

"More for us to eat tomorrow as leftovers," you shrugged and placed your head on the cold window, watching the streets that you grew up in. The problem with Seoul was that on most days, you didn't know where you were going. You'd always have to have directions up or look them up beforehand, but in this little town, you could probably navigate from one side to the other blindfolded, "How's your job?"

He sighed softly, "It's okay. A job's a job and at least I'm earning money. It's strange to live like an adult when just one or two years ago, I was running around all crazy. Now I have to think about my job. Like when I make plans, I have to consider that I have to wake up early the next day."

While Jeonghan was your twin brother, it didn't mean that he had to follow your path into Seoul to attend university. He was incredibly smart and was able to find a well-paying apprenticeship in the nearest city, which meant that he was able to come home often- almost every weekend or during the week if he felt particularly homesick.

"Well, it must be nice to have some money you know you worked hard for," you replied, "I know that each day at school is just more debt to my name for future me to clear just for a piece of paper. It's okay, I enjoy it and I've made good friends."

"You need to let me meet your friends!" Jeonghan reminded you of a promise you made a few months ago.

"But you're going to try and date them," you groaned, before noticing that you were already pulling up into your neighbourhood.

"Well, what's wrong with that?" Jeonghan whined, "I'd let you date my friends!"

"Jeonghan," you snapped warningly at him.

"What?" he said innocently, meeting your threatening eyes, "Fine. Fine. I'm sorry for bringing that up. Let's go inside before the food goes cold. I'll take out your suitcases later."

You hopped out of the truck and trudged ahead in front of Jeonghan. Luckily, the door was already open.

"Mom? Dad? I'm home!" you kicked off your shoes like normal, your brain failing to acknowledge the extra pairs of shoes.

"Ah, our favourite daughter," your dad cooed, entering the hallway from the kitchen to engulf you in a hug.

"Your only daughter," Jeonghan huffed behind you, "Your favourite son is also here."

"We see you every weekend, unfortunately," your mother takes you in after your father, "Besides, our other favourite son is here too and we haven't seen him in a year."

At that moment, you don't think your body has ever frozen and shut down like that ever before. You don't even think you blinked at all for a good minute.

Jeonghan's voice went low behind you, "What? What do you mean?"

"We invited the Choi's around!" your mother grinned, "Come and say hello. They've been waiting for you to get back so we can start eating!"

Jeonghan frowned, seeing you still frigid, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, gently guiding your feet in the direction of the kitchen, "It's okay. I'm sorry; I didn't know either."

You shook your head to snap yourself out of your trance, "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Aw, our Y/N!" Mrs. Choi rose from her seat and approached you to give you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Look at you! So gorgeous. What happened to you in the city? You've always been beautiful, don't get me wrong, but you look so grown up now!"

You giggled at her compliments, refusing to look past her figure, "I had to find an outlet to relieve my stress! I guess expensive beauty treatments and investing in good products became my retail therapy."

"You must have a boyfriend now, huh?" Mrs. Choi returned back to her seat and Mr. Choi gives you a happy wave.

You take your normal seat around the table, Jeonghan beside you, "No. Not found the right person yet."

You look up and Seungcheol is in front of you. It's weird seeing him again. The only way you can describe it is familiar- just like everything else in this town.

"Hi Y/N," he greeted softly. It's a tone you know too well and it's one just for you.

"Hi, Seungcheol."

"Well, let's eat?" Jeonghan sliced through the tension that never even developed between you and the man in front of you.

Dinner continued without a hitch. Your parents and the Choi's were incredibly talkative and somehow never ran out of topics to converse even after 2 decades of knowing each other and Jeonghan would fill in any gaps and divert any unwanted attention away from you. You spent the dinner looking mostly at your plate or your hands and only answered when you were directed to. It wasn't that Seungcheol's presence made you uncomfortable; it just surprised you. It was only your first day back and you were already being confronted by your previous grievances. Give a girl some time to breathe, would you?

"You children go do whatever," your mother shooed the three of you away once dessert was devoured, "We'll clean up here and crack open a bottle of wine."

"I'm going to get my bags from the trunk," you excused yourself without looking anyone in the eye.

You knew you couldn't make a quick escape as soon as you heard another chair scraping just as you crossed the threshold out of the kitchen. You didn't look back until you were at Jeonghan's truck, propping up the back.

"Let me," Seungcheol nudged your shoulder aside and snakes a grip around your suitcase handles.

"Thanks," you mumbled under your breath, hopefully, loud enough for him to hear.

"Anything for my favourite girl," you could hear a grin in his tone, but your breath hitched at the unexpected endearment, "How is my favourite girl, by the way?"

"I'm okay. School is school. The city is big," you answered reluctantly, "Am I still your favourite girl?"

"You'll always be my favourite girl," he replied nonchalantly, "Ever since you were 7 and stumbling off a bike."

"We're not all prodigies learning to ride a bike at 5 like you," you huffed, fighting the urge to smile at the fond memory.

"I was talented, wasn't I?" he chucked to himself while you shut the trunk door. He was lifting your two suitcases while you had managed to fight for custody over your duffle bag that he had also insisted he could carry.

While walking past your living room, you had noticed Jeonghan on the couch with a quirked eyebrow and you pieced together that he was once again scheming and probably made an executive decision not to follow Seungcheol out. You gave him a pointed stare and he pretended that the painting above the fireplace was the most interesting in the world and as if it hadn't been there his entire lifetime.

Seungcheol managed to wrestle your suitcases up the stairs and into your room which had been untouched for a year for the most part. All your mother did was dust the surfaces every month or so when the dust began to settle and form a coat.

"Ah, still the same," you muttered to yourself in reminiscing.

"The most Y/N place in this world," Seungcheol smiled, looking at all of your decorations on the walls. He had been in your room a few times before, less and less as the three of you grew up, but the picture of your room had begun to fade in his mind over time.

"You can just leave my bags there on the floor," you called over to him, "I'm a bit tired, so I might just unpack. You can catch up with Hannie downstairs if you want."

You're not dumb; you know that Seungcheol and Jeonghan have been in contact the past year that the three of you have been apart. However, you weren't at all prepared to see Seungcheol so soon and you were yet to gather your feelings and solidify an action plan on how to deal with him this summer.

He picked up on your tone, "Okay. It was good to see you again, Y/N. I'll talk to you soon?"

You gave him a tight-lipped smile, "Sure. You too, Seungcheol."

ꕤ

The next morning was a little strange for you. You had expected to wake up in your 14th-floor apartment bedroom, but instead, you were greeted with baby pink walls and posters of age-old boy bands plastering the walls. You should take those down soon, you note to yourself. Nonetheless, it's a nice feeling to wake up in your cozy bed and the bustle of your parents and brother downstairs making breakfast on a Sunday morning is a comforting presence.

You did your normal morning routine and changed into attire appropriate for long walks on the beach before emerging downstairs.

"How was your sleep, honey?" your mother placed a cup of coffee in front of you, just the way you liked it.

"It was good. Strange to wake up here again," you laughed, voice still groggy, "What are you doing up so early?"

"Cheol and I are going down to the pier," Jeonghan said, "Wanna join?"

"Nah, wouldn't want to interrupt your little date," you teased, "I'm going to go to the beach too."

"You're so annoying," he looked at your arm while rolling his eyes, "Do you wanna just catch a ride with us then in the truck? We can leave whenever you want; Cheol's on the porch."

"Why didn't you invite him in?"

"I was about to head out, but we can wait?" Jeonghan explained.

You pondered on the choice; would you rather sit in a car with Seungcheol for less than 5 minutes and save the walk down to the beach or curse yourself to walking all that way when all you were going to do on the stretch of coast was walk anyway?

"Okay, let me just finish my coffee," you nodded to your half-full mug, "Go wait outside."

He whined a little, telling you to hurry up, but following your order nonetheless as he slung his belt bag across his torso. Your mother hums a tune as she takes the seat across from you with a full breakfast spread in front of her. She let you steal a piece of bacon from her plate before she raised that mischievous eyebrow at you.

"What?" you squinted your eyes at her. 

"The summer fairground is up for a few more days. You and Seungcheol should go soon."

"Mother!" you wailed, "I know what you're doing!"

"I'm not doing anything," she smiled innocently, "You and Seungcheol have always loved going to the fairground. You haven't missed it your whole life and we've all been a few times, so make sure you invite him, okay? Otherwise, I'll tell him myself."

You just rolled your eyes and washed up your now-empty coffee cup, "I'll see you later. Should we be back for lunch?"

"My baby still wants her mother to make her food, aw," your mother cooed, dropping a kiss on your cheek as you stomped out, "But it's okay if you find other plans- if you know what I mean."

With another groan, you opened and slammed the door behind you, forgetting the two boys sat on the bench on the porch waiting for you.

"9 AM and already so grumpy?" Seungcheol chuckled from beside you, "Some things never change."

You had jumped from his sudden presence but began to relax as the sun bathed over your body as you walked out to the car, "I'm not grumpy. Maybe you're just too happy for 9 in the morning."

"What's wrong with that, sunshine?" he retorted, getting in the passenger seat of Jeonghan's truck. 

It felt nostalgic- the three of you in one car, with Jeonghan and Seungcheol bickering in the front and you in the back staring out of the window and lost in a daze. Ever since Seungcheol got his licence first, your favourite activities changed from bus hopping and cycling through the towns to road trips in the surrounding area. 

"What are you going to do at the beach?" Seunghceol's head was leaning against the window.

"Just walk around for a bit. Maybe get some ice cream. Haven't been here for a year so I miss it," you hummed.

"It misses you too."

"Dude," Jeonghan gave his best friend a puzzled look.

Seungcheol cleared his throat, "I was just saying the seafront businesses probably miss their economy booster back there."

"It's not my fault that the food there is amazing. We all know it!" the two of them hummed along with you in agreement. 

The rest of the short car ride was spent mainly in conversational silence, listening to the local news on the radio. Jeonghan quickly parked up and soon enough, you were parting ways with them.

Long walks on the beach left you a lot of time with your own thoughts, which were exceptionally busy the last day or so considering the return of certain people in your life. 

Choi Seungcheol had always and forever been your brother's best friend. They met in the sandbox in kindergarten and had been attached at the hip ever since. But if Jeonghan was an extension of you, and you of him, what should Choi Seungcheol have been to you? 

For a while, he felt like your brother too- protecting you from taunts and teases growing up in school and pushing you on your bike around the field when you were learning. Jeonghan had been your evil twin and Seungcheol had been your protective one. 

Your relationship with the boy next door probably started changing in high school. Boys, drama, school - it was all just a blur to you, but Choi Seungcheol was always a presence in your life. He chased away the boys that intended to break your heart and would walk you home in the winter months when it was dark by 3 pm and Jeonghan was training in every sport the school had to offer. It was Choi Seungcheol that would bring you snacks during your intense exam periods and he would sit and study with you and motivate you. At first, you thought he was just continuing his brotherly role, and maybe he was, but teenage you began to see it differently. It was the compliments, the umbrella sharing, the jacket-lending; your relationship had changed. 

And then the end of senior year came and he had smiled next to you, an arm around your shoulders as you posed in your gowns in front of your proud parents at graduation. And then he was miles and miles away from you, instead of being right next door. 

Before you know it, your legs had taken you to your favorite ice cream shop a considerable walk from where you were dropped off and you couldn't help but get your favourite flavour and wallow some more in your thoughts. The shop was pretty busy with tourists this time of year, but you were always glad to see the business booming. You had smiled gratefully at the cashier working today- a friend of yours named Chan- who gave you an extra scoop of ice cream. 

You had no idea what to do. You were going to be home for an extended amount of time. How could you be around Seungcheol while your heart tortured you?

ꕤ

"Sunshine," your window was wide open, the breeze flowing pleasantly into your room as you read on your bed, "Y/N!"

You wrestled the smile off your face as you poked your head out of the window, "You can just text, you know that right?"

"Where's the fun in that?" his smiling face was already sticking out of his window.

"What do you want?"

"What are you doing today? I'm bored already. Jeonghan's at work, right?"

"Yeah, he is. Maybe you should get a summer job, how about that?" you teased, "Anyway, I'm not doing anything. Just reading."

"I work all year at college; why would I make myself suffer here at home too?" he said, "Do you want to go to the fair? My mom said that it's getting taken down soon."

You glanced up at the sky, washed in a layer of light grey, "I don't know; it might rain, right?"

"Oh well. Summer rain is fun. We'll be quick, yeah? Maybe we'll miss it," his tone was practically pleading and it took everything in you to giggle at his adorable traits.

"Fine. I'll be out in like 20 minutes," you rolled your eyes playfully, secretly delighted that Seungcheol had been the one to ask you to go instead of the other way around. 

Less than half an hour later, the two of you were buying your tickets to get around the fairground and Seungcheol was basically brushing shoulders with you.

"I love the fairground," Seungcheol mumbled happily next to you, eyes scanning the rides.

"Should we do our usual plan? Bumper cars, Waltzer, swings, rollercoasters, and then Ferris wheel?" you recalled the route you usually took around the park.

"Of course. It's the best-devised plan and it always will be," Seungcheol's hand snakes around your wrist as he dragged you towards the bumper cars and you just have to pretend that it's not setting off the butterflies that have been caged away for a year, "Don't worry. I'll still hold your hand on the rollercoasters if you want."

The two of you are too busy with the adrenaline rush you're getting on the rides to even make substantial conversation about anything other than how fun or bad the ride you just went on was. You had stopped for some classic cotton candy, churros, and drinks, but even then, you were scoffing them down in order to get to the biggest rollercoaster before the rain hit the ground. 

"I think it's raining now," you sighed as you looked up at the darkened sky.

"It's okay, we're done with all the rides now, right? Just the Ferris wheel left and it's covered carriages, so that's good. Let's go," Seungcheol urged you toward the middle of the fair. The Ferris wheel was your favourite attraction- it gave you an amazing view of your seaside town and you could see for miles and miles out to sea from the top.

The line was fairly short, considering the weather, but Seugncheol had opened up an umbrella above the two of you. Clambering into the carriage, you found it strange how Seungcheol had opted to sit squished next to you instead of across from you. You found it even weirder when he pried your fingers apart to slot his own in between them.

"Cheol? This is not a rollercoaster," you murmured shyly as the wheel began turning slowly.

"I know," he was looking out of the window already, "It's just nice though, isn't it?"

Your heart melted and sank at the same time, "Cheol..."

"We don't have to talk about it," Seungcheol uttered, a sigh filling up the silence as he squeezed your hand in his.

Your heart was beating faster. Choi Seungcheol was holding your hand while bundled up together on the Ferris wheel and you had no idea how to react. The rain intensified slightly and you could now hear the pitter-patter on the glass. 

"We have to talk about it," you began quietly, "While we were away, I missed you so much. It would hurt more if you gave me even more of a reason to miss you."

He finally peeled his eyes away from the rising landscape and met yours with softness in his eyes, "Being apart for a whole year made me realise how much I need you in my life. It was practically torture to not talk to you, but I wanted to let you have the space to grow into yourself at college. You know how I feel about you, but if nothing else, I'd rather keep you in my life as my best friend than not have you in it at all."

You sighed, your memories taking you back to the night of graduation- you, Seungcheol, his car, and whispered confessions between the two of you. What you couldn't forget was the pain that came after the confession on the realisation that college was just around the corner and you couldn't head into an unknown territory with a newfound relationship. You trusted Seungcheol with your whole life- if someone had thrown you off a cliff, it would be Seungcheol you'd trust to figure out a way to stop time and catch you at the bottom- but you didn't know Seungcheol in a relationship and everything was too risky. 

You had a lot of regrets in your life. Maybe that night was one of them.

"You still feel that way?" you asked quietly. The Ferris wheel was on its descent and you didn't even have the chance to admire the view at the top.

"I knew my feelings wouldn't change. I've always felt this way," Seungcheol's palm in yours was beginning to get clammy, "Sunshine, just give me this summer. I'll prove to you that this is worth it. That we're worth fighting for."

You know that funny feeling in your stomach when you're dropping from height quite fast and then you feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you raise back up? Looking into Seungcheol's hopeful eyes felt a bit like that. The leaping head first into this risk is the nerve-racking part- that stomach-dropping feeling on a roller coaster, but you know that Seungcheol is the only person in this world that could take you to greater heights than your eyes could fathom. 

ꕤ

It was Friday. You loved Fridays as intensely as you hated Sundays. 

Fridays could be described as full of excitement. Saturdays were filled with warmth. Sundays dripped in longing. 

There's a familiar and comforting grin on Seungcheol's face as he walks towards you. Even though it's raining pretty heavily and all you're protected by is this bus shelter, he would never let the weather ruin the mood of Fridays.

He takes you into his arms and you melt into his embrace as he hums into your ear, "How's my favourite girl?"

"Hanging in there," you plant your lips where his jaw meets his neck, "I missed you."

"I always miss you, Sunshine," his arms are still around you and the two of you are swaying slightly under the rain. Does this count as dancing in the rain?

There's no duffel bag strapped around Seungcheol these days when he gets off the bus or the train, only a small backpack. There's a drawer in your dorm room dedicated just for him, to make it easier when he came almost every other Friday. It's only fair since you have a drawer and a section in his bathroom cabinet for when you go to him the alternate Fridays. 

Friday was exciting because the two of you could feel each other again after the week without each other. Sure, it was a bit expensive to travel between the two cities, but both of you worked in the evenings during the week and you had been getting by. Sundays were the worst because the goodbyes never got any easier. 

"It's almost summer again soon. We'll be at home together," you sighed dreamily, as he slipped his fingers in between yours and began leading the way back to your dorm.

"And then it's almost our anniversary," Seungcheol reminded you as if you would ever forget when the man of your dreams finally became yours.

"The year's actually gone by so fast. We'll be graduating before you know it!" 

Seungcheol felt a smile take over his face, "Then we can both find a job in the city, get you an apartment with a balcony, and get that cat we've been talking about. We'll have breakfast in bed every Sunday morning and wrap up all cozy in blankets doing movie nights, and I'll try and cook for you, but I know it'll turn out bad and you'll have to order in. Our cat will claw up Jeonghan and you can have a little corner in the living room for your crochet supplies."

In everything he did, Seungcheol made it known that you were always in his future plans. You were his future. He couldn't imagine a life without you, and that made you so incredibly elated because you felt the same. 

There was no one that you would rather be walking in the rain with, hand in hand. 

Sure, saying yes to him that last summer when he asked for a chance was scary. You were putting yourself in a vulnerable situation with your heart open and practically giving itself away. Luckily, it was Choi Seungcheol that was entrusted to take care of it. He was the one man that made you feel like you were always enough, just the way you are. He was the one person that you would jump leaps and bounds for, no matter how scary they were.

You pulled on his sleeve to stop him in his tracks under a streetlight. The rain looked like crystals falling under the light and the ground seemed sparkling. Seungcheol seemed a bit confused as he turned to you, but you propped yourself up and connected your lips to his. You could never get enough of kissing him- you still got intense butterflies every time you did, just like the first time he kissed you in your favourite ice cream shop under the pretense of cleaning up the ice cream around your lips. 

"I'm glad it's you, Choi Seungcheol."

That was all the I love you's he could ever need. 

[hansoulchews]

reel love [masterlist]

Pairing: Vernon x fem!reader (minor/brief Mingyu x fem!reader)

Featuring: Seungkwan, Yeri, Wonwoo, mentions of Jun, other made up characters

Synopsis: Tired of seeing you hopelessly pine over Mingyu after all these years, your best friends, Seungkwan and Vernon (by default - not by choice), take it upon themselves to set you up with the dreamy art major. Even if everything goes as planned, what happens when you find yourself falling for one of your wingmen instead?

Genre: Fluff, crack, minor angst, film major!Vernon, art major!Mingyu, environmental engineering major!Seungkwan, mechE major!Wonwoo, psych major!Yeri, math major!reader, F2L, idiots-to-lovers, one-sided to mutual pining

Warnings: PG-13, specified per chapter. Will most likely have some level of profanity use because I have the mouth of a sailor.

Estimated WC: ~30K . . .? (this is a very rough estimate lol)

Estimated start date: Week of Friday, Dec 2nd

Permanent Taglist: @sleeplessdawn @aceofvernons @sadkidwarexpert @rockwidthyou @woozarts @wonuziex @bibinnieposts @nanamioo

If you would like to be added to the series taglist, please send an ask to ensure you're on it! I try my best to keep up with the requests in the comments and DMs, but it's not always a guarantee I'll remember to check them since I keep track of the taglist via the tags. Thank you!

A/N: Jokes on me you - we're making this a (short) series instead 🤡

prologue

one

two

three

four

five

[number of chapters TBD though I do think this will only take 5 . . .?]

[hansoulchews]

Always The Best Man, Never The Groom

Pairing: childhood best friend! vernon x fem! reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst (no happy ending), One Sided Love.

Warning: Insinuating a domestic argument, Sad Vernon, maybe like 3 curse words? Other than that I believe that’s it. If I missed anything or if someone thinks I should add something please privately messed me and let me know.

Vernon is in love with you. Fortunately, he keeps it very well under wraps. Why is that fortunate? Because you’re getting married in a few months and his chances of every being with you are no longer just slim, they’re non-existent.

Keep reading

[hansoulchews]

For Worse or For Better | PART 1 OF 2

Prompt: this marriage was supposed to be a scam but, but listen, 

For: @lenireads

Rating: T || Word Count: ~3000

Warnings: fake marriage au, strangers to spouses to lovers, wine and champagne drinking, food mention, swearing, flirty/sexist comments from men (unseen but mentioned), attempted unwanted touching of the waist (reader stops it and its not a huge plot point), wonwoo is oblivious, kissing, some suggestiveness but not as much as is normal for me sorryyyy, this is a full on romcom just so yall know

Reader Notes: in grad school, i say wife multiple times, girlfriend once, and cleavage once, wears a dress and heels, receives flirty/sexist comments from men (briefly mentioned), attempted unwanted touching of the waist (reader stops it and its not a huge plot point)

Wonwoo has no idea what he was thinking when he’d asked you to marry him.

All he knows is that late one night, after a few too many whiskeys, his boss had told him he’d never get on the board if he didn’t settle down. All the execs were traditionalists, apparently, and wanted to give the position to someone who’d use it to support a family.

Wonwoo had tried to argue, tried to explain that he didn’t see himself settling down, that he was the right person for the position, that cats should count as family. 

Nothing got through, and that night, Wonwoo poured his boss into a cab and left work feeling defeated. 

Mingyu had called, picked up on the exhaustion in his voice, offered to bring food over and brainstorm ideas. Now, Wonwoo didn’t normally go to Mingyu for ideas, just out of self-preservation, but he was feeling a little desperate. 

He’d been working toward this position for five years now - starting in the mailroom and moving up step by step, with Chief Financial Officer as his end goal. It was finally in his sights, but one pesky little factor was keeping him from reaching CFO, and he knew that rat bastard Alan Connor was vying for the position too.

Connor was already engaged to a nice woman named Helen, and if Wonwoo didn’t figure something out, he’d be glaring at Alan over a celebratory dinner. And he knew the douche would request seafood, knowing full well Wonwoo hates it and would have to pick at the sides like a peasant. 

No, Wonwoo simply could not allow it.

He supposes that’s why he’d listened when Mingyu mentioned knowing someone trying to avoid international tuition for their Master’s Program. And he’d listened when Mingyu said they’d considered getting married to obtain citizenship. And he’d listened when Mingyu offered to put him in contact with them, saying that you could solve your problems together. 

The next thing he knew, Wonwoo was standing next to you in front of the minister, sliding a ring on your fourth finger to the tune of Mingyu’s loud weeping in the aisle behind him. 

It was awkward at first.

Wonwoo had a spare room and you were looking for a place to stay, so the logical decision was for you to move in with him.

You’d been like a ghost the first few weeks, staying in your room most of the time, mainly emerging to cook or get water. It was only after he’d gotten takeout for the fifth night in a row that you’d appeared in the kitchen, telling him that if he wouldn’t let you pay rent he could at least stop getting delivery and let you cook for him. It made sense to say yes at the time - Wonwoo was getting tired of eating nothing but restaurant food, and you would be cooking for yourself anyway, so it wouldn’t be hard to double the portion. 

That was Wonwoo’s first mistake. 

Well. 

Second, probably, after marrying you in the first place. 

Because agreeing to your proposal meant he came home to delicious smells and soft music and you, dancing in the kitchen in your pajamas, with a glass of wine in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. It was so heartwrenchingly domestic that Wonwoo started wondering why he didn’t want a family in the first place. 

It got worse when his cats started liking you more than they liked him. Maybe it was because you’re so warm, both in personality and body temperature. Maybe it was because you were home more often than he was, doing online temp work until your citizenship went through and your tuition was adjusted. Maybe it was because you were happy to pet them until they were tired of affection, or because you let them sleep on you, or because you spoke to them so sweetly. 

Wonwoo’s not sure, but he does know he literally felt his heart clench in his chest the first time he walked in on you cradling Mr. Mittens like a baby.

Queen Bea was wrapped around your shoulders like a fur stole, and your fingers were running up and down Mr. Mittens’ stomach, his purrs audible from the front door. He’d stopped in his tracks, eyes wide behind his glasses, breath caught in his throat, because Mr. Mittens didn’t even let Wonwoo hold him like that. 

(Mr. Mittens had been adopted to help soothe Wonwoo’s anxiety, but he discovered soon after that Mr. Mittens himself had even worse anxiety, and thus entered into their lives Queen Beatrice, his emotional support cat’s emotional support kitten, who now runs the entire household)  

Then you started school, and Wonwoo announced to the company that he’d gotten married to his long-term girlfriend. The financial advisors at your university were a bit suspicious at the sudden change in your marital status, and he had colleagues asking him left and right what you looked like and for cute photos from the vacations he’d lied about going on with you. It was starting to make him nervous, and it must have been obvious to you because you’d had the genius idea to stage couple photos.

You disappeared and came home one Saturday afternoon with various outfits and props, and Mingyu in tow to act as your cameraman, and off you all went.

(Gyu’s a self-proclaimed Instagram whore so he had a lot of ideas, and knew spots all over the city that could be passed off as more exotic locales). 

Wonwoo felt so stupid after for thinking it would be a safe outing, that he wouldn’t be put further at risk of falling for you with every snapshot of you kissing him on the cheek or wrapping a scarf around his neck or staring at him like you love him. You’d dragged him all over the city that day, your hand warm in his, Gyu trailing behind the two of you and shooting Wonwoo eyebrow wiggles every time he turned around. He’d felt like such a newlywed, posing for pictures with you on his arm, and it just made things all the more dangerous for him.

But it worked, the pictures got the financial aid office off your back and got him in closer with his superiors, and Wonwoo learned nothing.

(Conveniently, one of the places you’d fakecationed was where the President had honeymooned)

For posterity, Wonwoo had set his favorite photo from that day as his lockscreen, and stubbornly ignored the butterflies that rose in his stomach every time he checked his phone. 

It got a bit more difficult when the board started asking why Wonwoo didn’t bring you to any company functions.

There were… a lot. 

And before, Wonwoo hadn’t felt the need nor the desire to attend the many dinners and parties and cocktail hours the board paid for, but now, he had a wife. Wonwoo had a wife. 

And Alan Connor didn’t, yet. It was time for you to start making appearances, and the excuse that you were studying for an exam or working on a paper could only pass for so long, so Wonwoo dragged you with him to the next dinner party. 

That turned out to be a great decision because not only were Connor and Helen unable to attend, but you, Wonwoo discovered, were a natural at charming old traditional dudes and their wives.

You had knowledge on seemingly every topic, and you had the whole table leaning in to hear your every word without coming off like a know it all. You’d fielded the flirty (and sometimes sexist) comments from the men with grace, subtly twisting their words to compliment their wives instead, leaving the women blushing and hiding smiles behind cloth napkins.

You were a revelation, honestly, and even got the board to help clean up at the end of the night without twisting any ears. It was the most fun Wonwoo had ever had at a company function, and he’d resolved to bring you to every possible one after. 

Which was yet another mistake, because Wonwoo had failed to consider the possibility that he’d be charmed too, by your intelligence and kindness and wit. And he was charmed, beyond belief, falling deeper with every outing and falling harder with every sleepy smile you’d send him from the passenger seat afterwards, the way you’d pad into the living room, makeup gone and hair loose, pajamas on and arms ready to snuggle. 

With Queen Bea and Mr. Mittens. Not with Wonwoo. 

Never with Wonwoo. 

It was getting harder to pretend he didn’t wish it was him you pulled into your arms at the end of the night. 

And now here Wonwoo is, staring at you from across the ballroom, his eyes tracing the line of your neck and his smirk hiding behind a champagne glass as you tilt your head back to fake laugh at his coworker.

The crystal chandelier refracts flecks of light on you, golden beams dancing on the soft skin exposed by your slip dress, and Wonwoo tries not to let his eyes linger too long on how the silk fabric drapes over your chest, glides down your body, outlining everything he gets to see but not touch.

His only consolation is that you don’t let anyone else touch either, and he smiles secretly when he sees you grab the touchy asshole’s wrist before his hand can land on your waist, flicking it away from you with disdain. Wonwoo’s first move as CFO will be convincing the board to transfer that guy to Alaska.

You turn on your stilettos to stalk toward him and Wonwoo tries to compose himself, smoothing down the lapels of his suit and straightening his tie, hoping you didn’t notice him watching the interaction.

“Hi honey,” you breathe, then hiss through teeth clenched into a smile, “I swear to all that is holy, if one more of your bastard colleagues tries to feel me up, I will be sending this pointy ass heel through their foot.” 

Wonwoo laughs, gives you explicit permission, and tries to pretend your rage doesn’t turn him on before wrapping a loose arm around your waist and guiding you over to the champagne table. God knows the both of you could use another glass. 

His eyes shift behind his glasses, trying not to follow the drop that slipped past your lips and is currently trailing down your neck, descending toward your chest rapidly. It will show up on the silk, and you’ll be annoyed he didn’t tell you, but he can’t find it in himself to say anything or to stop the drop rolling into your cleavage. You must feel the chill, because you catch it daintily with a cocktail napkin before it gets that far, and he looks away just in time to see Alan Connor storming over. 

“You’re getting the promotion, dickhead, congratu-fucking-lations,” Connor all but shouts at Wonwoo, voice barely low enough to avoid attracting attention. 

“What do you mean? How do you know?” Wonwoo can’t keep the excitement out of his voice and glances over at you only to find you still glaring at Connor for calling him a dickhead. He feels his heart swell and can’t suppress the fond smile rising on his face, feeling so lucky to have a fake-wife as protective as you. 

“You just had to get married before me, didn’t you? Do you know how long I’ve been planning this? How hard it’s been to put up with her?” his rival seethes, chest rising and falling rapidly, face reddening with rage. 

Now Wonwoo really doesn’t know what Connor’s talking about. 

“Put up with who?” You say in unison with Wonwoo and look over to him with a little smile, your eyes glittering. You sound a bit more suspicious than Wonwoo, who sounds more bewildered than anything. 

“Helen! She’s not my fucking fiancee, she’s an actress, you idiots,” he grits out with derision, “I hired her to pretend to be engaged to me so those old bastards would give me the promotion! I was willing to fake a goddamn pregnancy if it got me CFO,” Connor shouts, gesturing wildly, eyes bulging. 

Wonwoo and you are both struck silent. He can feel his heart pounding, both at the fact that he’s going to be the new Chief Financial Officer and at the fact that Connor had been faking his relationship too. Not as well as Wonwoo was, apparently, if he dislikes Helen this much. 

You barely have time to gather yourselves before another voice booms out above all the chatter stirred by Connor’s outburst. 

“Alan Connor. Thank you so much for reassuring me the board made the correct decision. I expect your letter of resignation on my desk tomorrow morning,” President Laybourne states jovially, though his eyes are burning with ire. 

Connor pales, “Bu-but sir, tomorrow’s Saturday! Can we just discuss this like civilized adults, please?”

His pleas are unsuccessful. 

Wonwoo tries not to feel smug as he watches his former enemy be escorted from the hall by security, coughing to cover the laugh attempting to escape him when Connor shoves the guard's hand off his shoulder and shouts, “I can walk by myself!”

The fear rises within him again when the president lingers, eying you and him and the way you stand so close together. Wonwoo doesn’t know when it happened but your hand is entwined with his, fingers twined together, and your other hand is clutching at his forearm, wrinkling his suit. 

“Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag,” the president chuckles, “get it? Because you have cats.” 

Wonwoo laughs much too loud, and he can feel your nails digging into his skin even through the wool of his jacket, telling him to tone it down. 

“Yes, we do have cats,” Wonwoo agrees breathlessly, nodding his head until his glasses start to slip down his nose and your hand appears to still his head and gently push the frames back up to rest correctly. 

President Laybourne eyes him again before continuing, “The promotion is yours, Mr. Jeon. Welcome to the Board of Directors,” he finishes with a smile and his hand primed for a shake. 

Wonwoo tries to compose himself, gently untangling your fingers from his and wiping his hand off on his pant leg, just in case it had gotten sweaty, before taking the other man’s hand and firmly shaking it once. Wonwoo’s hand searches for yours as soon as he lets go, probably clutching your fingers tight enough to cut off circulation. 

“You know, I always thought there was something off about Alan and Helen. They seemed…  a bit too fake, a bit too perfect,” the president shakes his head, staring into the distance, “I just didn’t feel like they loved each other, not like Marci and I do. Not like you and your wife do,” he finishes with a clap on Wonwoo’s shoulder that nearly knocks him over before saying goodnight and returning to his wife. 

“Well, now we can never get divorced,” Wonwoo jokes. 

You laugh, saying, “That’s fine with me,” under your breath, and Wonwoo laughs too, before he processes what you’d said and starts to feel like he might die. 

“What? What did you say?” He asks, somewhat desperately, nearly out of his mind with hope. 

Your eyes grow wide, your mouth snapping shut, and you rush out in one breath, “Um, nothing, I’m gonna go see if they put out more of those spring rolls, I’ll be right back!” 

You try to spin and speed away, but Wonwoo is faster than you and catches you by the elbow gently before you can run to the snack table. 

Your eyes won’t meet his, and he ducks and moves around trying to catch your gaze before you finally turn back to him, and he begs, “No, please, tell me what you said.” 

Wonwoo knows he looks pathetic, practically panting and imploring you with his eyes to be honest, his brows pinched so close together they’re skewing his glasses, but he doesn’t care.

If you said what he thinks you said, it will change everything. 

You gnaw on the inside of your bottom lip, looking at him through the sides of your eyes, before your shoulders lose all their tension and you sigh, “I said it would be fine with me. If we never got divorced.” 

You sound defeated and small, like this is something you’ve been holding back, and Wonwoo feels all the air in his lungs exit in a whoosh before both hands fly up to cradle your face and pull you into a searing kiss, months of pent up love and adoration and fondness and lust pouring from his lips into yours. Your shoulders bunch up a bit and your hands move to cover his, and Wonwoo fears for a second that you’ll pull away, tell him that wasn’t what you meant, but you just pull him closer, kissing him back until you’re breathless too. 

Eventually, Wonwoo realizes both that you need air and that you’re at a public function hosted by the company of which he’s just been made Chief Financial Officer, and gently detaches from you. He stays close though, can’t bear to go further than a few inches, and you stare into his eyes before breathing out, “Should we go home? I think we should go home.”

Wonwoo nods before you’re done talking, and he makes straight for the exit on light feet before you veer to the side, tugging him towards his colleagues, and he remembers the two of you should say your goodbyes. 

He’s as quick as he can be about it, shaking hands and accepting toasts, and hears you tell everyone how proud you are of him, knows you mean it, and his heart starts swelling. 

Then Wonwoo hears you say, “My husband and I should be getting home, have a great night!” and something else starts swelling too.

(His dick. Wonwoo is talking about his dick. Oh you got it? Good.)

AN: hiiii so this was a sleepover fic turned oneshot for the lovely @lenireads who was the first person to join my taglist!! thank you so much for supporting me and i hope you enjoy!! there will be a smutty part two, don't worry!!

PART TWO

ALTERNATE ENDING

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[hansoulchews]

Almost Midnight | Kim Mingyu

word count: 5.6k

pairing: seventeen's kim mingyu x female reader

tags&warnings: high school!au, college!au, friends to lovers!au, coming of age!au

inspired by: midnights by rainbow rowell

synopsis: december thirty-first. kim mingyu finds his life entwined and woven with your life every new year's eve and this year it'd be nice if he didn't kiss just any other girl who sat next to him when the ball dropped for the sake of the sentiment.

note: this is a republish and re-write of the same story that included an idol i no longer support and associate with. i really liked the plot so i repurposed into something i can be proud of again:)

SOPHOMORE YEAR

TO PUT IT SIMPLY, you knew Kim Mingyu as a friend of a friend of a friend. There was no connection between the two of you other than he went to the same high school that you did and that he was in your year. While your high school wasn't massive and it was definitely easy enough to know everyone, you were somewhat of a recluse during your high school life. Okay- recluse is a bit of a hyperbole, but it meant that you preferred to stay with the friends you've had for years already and you were comfortable and contented enough to not crave to venture out for more.

Mingyu and his friends were very loud, in all aspects. They attracted eyes to them wherever they went for reasons such as their laughs were so loud or that they were insanely, insanely attractive so that eyes just naturally migrated to them as soon as they stepped in. Frankly, it was unfair how teenage boys could all be so gorgeous, but frankly, you weren't all that interested.

From all the dramas that you watched, you learnt that boys brought with them heart-pounding, breath-stopping feelings but that was never without pain and suffering and torture of schemes and dramas and all that. You could deal with the former, but you'd be caught dead before you got to experience the latter. Life for you was all about trying to get through it easy; you wanted plain sailing and nothing more. The only suffering you were going to impose on yourself was that of schoolwork and pining over the leads in dramas. That was it- nothing more.

"I don't want to go," you stated, blinking impassively at your best friend, who deflated visibly at your words.

"Y/N! Why not?" she huffed, setting down her bag on the floor and taking the space in front of you, "Our first party of high school, Y/N! C'mon, Seungkwan invited me himself!"

"Yes, Seungkwan invited you, not your dorky friend, aka me," you argued, "It's just a night of getting drunk, making mistakes and waking up feeling like shit. Look, I'll pass."

"Y/N, you really think a bunch of high school sophomores are about to get blackout drunk? Just because it's a senior party doesn't mean that we're stupid enough to let go of ourselves," she fought back.

"It's a senior party? Yujin, come on! A senior party?" you exclaimed in surprise, "Where's Herin? I'm sure she'd agree with me. And yes, sophomores are definitely stupid enough to let go of themselves at a party. Ever heard of peer pressure?"

"Look, it's a party by Seungkwan's senior friends. You know that group right? Kwan told me that they don't even let him drink that much. Herin already agreed to go," she folded her arms and quirked her eyebrows- uh oh, "And it's on New Year's Eve."

"No, no, no! Why are you doing this to me, Jin?" you groaned.

Every year since about three years ago, the three of you spent New Year's Eve together in a sleepover at Yujin's house and the tradition stuck. New Year's Eve was creeping around the corner and you three had already begun making plans for the night (American rom-coms and chick-flicks), but Yujin's invite to the party sent all that crashing down.

"What about Legally Blonde? And Clueless and 10 Things?" you retorted.

"Just this one party, Y/N. For me, please. This is important to me. You can be our sober mother of the night," she broke out into her soft, large puppy eyes and you knew that if you didn't agree, she'd soon break into repulsive cute expressions and an intolerable high pitch pleading voice.

"Just because you've been crushing on Seungkwan since 5th grade, then," you huffed, already feeling as if you'd regret all your decisions, "Just so you know, Elle Woods and Cher Horowitz are very disappointed in you."

DECEMBER 31ST, SOPHOMORE YEAR, ALMOST MIDNIGHT

Thankfully, Yujin and Herin didn't force you to squeeze into some tight dress or heels, just grateful that you even came to supervise them. You were stood in your favourite skirt, a nice top and your favourite sneakers scanning the crowd of Yoon Jeonghan's living room. Admittedly, there was definitely not as many people as you presumed. There were definitely less than 100 people and so far, no one had climbed up onto the coffee table to swing and dance shirtless. Good thing anyway; the coffee table was glass and it looked pretty expensive.

Your place in the corner of the room was incredibly favourable because if you just extended your hand out a little, it would rest on the snack table that was overflowing with goods. Jeonghan definitely spared no expenses when it came to snacks, which was a good thing because drunk teenagers were very hungry people, so it was amusing for you to see all the people frequently coming and going between the snack table and the couches or tables.

"Why don't you go sit down? You can't stand here all night," your attention was ripped from your phone to a pair of sparkling, if not slightly dazed, eyes.

"Is it a crime?" you humoured, quirking the sides of your lips up slightly. From his point of view, you were a friendly, casual girl but you were so nervous inside to speak to him, "I do quite like being with the snacks."

"I mean no; it just seems tiring. Are your friends here?" his eyes turned to the table, scanning for viable food, "Fair enough- you can have a constant stream of snacks, but a party is all about socialising. You can eat snacks at home. I'm Mingyu, by the way."

You knew that. Kim Mingyu was incredibly popular with his fluffy hair, kind eyes and very, very tall stature.

"Y/N," you replied, "And yes they are. Yujin's sat over there with Seungkwan and Herin is with Jihyo and Chaeyoung. I'm not a very social person; I was forced here."

"I know who you are," he chuckled slightly, "It's not a big school and yeah, I can tell. Why don't you just go home?"

"Trying to get me to leave already? I sleep over at Yujin's every New Year's Eve," you explained, "Try the almond brownies; they're so good!"

"I'd rather not have my tongue swell out of my mouth and have difficulty breathing tonight, thanks," he grimaced, "And no, I'm just saying it's a bit boring to just stand by yourself at a party all night."

"Oh, you're allergic? That sucks," you said, "Have you been watching me or something?"

"Ah, no, I've just been contemplating whether to get a snack or not all night and you happen to be in my vision every time I look up," he shrugged nonchalantly, "Oh yuck!"

"What? Is one of the snacks bad?"

"No. Kwnnie is giving your friend the look. Oh damn, that's disgusting," he groaned, tearing his eyes away from Seungkwan and Yujin on the couch.

You squinted your eyes at the two on the couch, "What look? He's looking at her normally, right?"

"No, no, no. Look at his eyes. They're completely soft, completely hopeful and his eyebrows are slightly tilted up in anticipation. Oh, it must be almost midnight. He'll soon break out even more into the 'hey, is it okay if I kiss you?' expression. Disgusting," Mingyu was giggling. It was adorable, to say the least.

"What, kissing?" you pressed on. You found it hard to believe someone like Mingyu found kissing disgusting. He was probably located in a dark park every Friday night with a female companion based on his heartthrob reputation.

"No, just the sentiment of it all- you know, waiting until New Year's Eve to just score a kiss with someone," Mingyu expressed, "Just kiss them whenever you want, you know?"

"I think it's cute," you said quietly, "Kissing someone on the stroke of midnight to wish good fortune for your relationship for the year ahead. Obviously, I don't believe the whole fortune thing, but it's a nice sentiment at least."

"Ten!"

You didn't know what you were talking about- you've never hugged a boy other than your relatives, let alone kissed one.

"Nine!"

"It kinda feels like cheating, to me. A cop out," Mingyu shrugged, taking a sip from the cup you noticed he was holding. It reeked of alcohol, "But people do whatever to give them a reason, I guess."

"Five!"

"Yeah, I guess," you watched intently as Seungkwan's face intensified and Yujin shuffled herself closer to him micrometre by micrometre. It was endearing, at best.

"Four!"

"Three!"

Seungkwan leaned his face closer. You looked beside you to see Mingyu watching them too. Mingyu must have been Mark's best friend.

"Two!"

"One!"

"Well, happy new year, Y/N," Mingyu remarked to you.

"Happy new year to you too, Mingyu," you smiled, "It was nice to meet you."

"Hey, the next time you come to a party, don't be a stranger and stand around by the snack table, yeah?"

"I doubt you'll see me at many more parties, Mingyu."

DECEMBER 31st, JUNIOR YEAR, ALMOST MIDNIGHT

Kim Mingyu was a very, very big character. You wouldn't have guessed this the first time you met because he seemed very mellow and chill, but gradually, in the span of a year, you learned that Kim Mingyu was outright crazy at the best of times. He was loud and boisterous, like your prejudice of him before the two of you were acquainted, and he was very funny, never ever failing to put a smile on your face. He had a child-like spirit and aura, always finding the fun in everything.

"As always, here you are," Mingyu quirked an eyebrow towards you in amusement.

"As always? You mean like once before," you scoffed.

"I can't believe that you didn't come to a single party all of last year! Why come again this year since you hate parties so much?" he munched on a chocolate bar.

"Same reason as last year; I'm sleeping at Yujin's," you shrugged, "And because you blackmailed me saying you'll tell Choi Seungcheol that I had a minor crush on him when I was a freshman and he was a junior."

Your eyes fell onto light blue hair contained in a sweat band across his forehead amongst the crowd. He had graduated a couple of years ago, but he was still as good looking as ever, if not more.

"It was a fat crush, from the way you described it," Mingyu's eyes twinkled with mischief, "You fell in love with him because he held the door open for you that one time."

You grimaced, smacking his arm lightly, "I was not in love with him. It was a minor crush. Go choke on some tree nuts, Mingyu."

"Happy anniversary to you too, Y/N," he retorted.

"Anniversary?" you frowned in confusion.

"We met right here, last year," he gestured to your general surroundings in the corner of Yoon Jeonghan's living room, as he looked down at his watch, "Almost at this time too."

"I've been here for like two hours. It took you this long to approach me!" you huffed playfully.

"Hey, unlike last year, you've actually been speaking to people; that's a miracle, by the way. I wasn't about to interrupt. Anyway, I've been caught up by a few things."

"You mean by Sori?" you found the brunette-haired beauty sitting beside one of her friends. You had examined how she accompanied a good chunk of Mingyu's time that night.

"Have you been watching me, or something?" he echoed your words from last year.

"No, I just happened to see once or twice," you dismissed, "She's definitely going to try and kiss you tonight."

"She's a nice girl."

And that was your answer. Mingyu wouldn't mind kissing her, from the way he said it- even if he found the whole kiss thing cheesy. You deflated.

Over the year that you had known Mingyu, the two of you grew very close to the point that you hardly ever missed a day without speaking in some form, whether that be in real life or through text. The thing that made your unpredicted friendship work was that you two were almost polar opposites. You were able to mellow out his crazy and your chill was made a little more exciting by his brightness. It was an unusual, but necessary friendship.

Unfortunately, the one downside to being friends with Kim Mingyu was that it was so easy to fall in love with him. Mingyu gave you warmth; he made you feel comfortable and he made you feel worthy. He could make you laugh in any situation and supported you in your hard times. What else would you want in a relationship?

But Kim Mingyu was as unattainable as the stars in a far away galaxy and that was that.

"Ten!"

"Oh, the countdown's starting," Mingyu duly noted.

Like last year, Seungkwan and Yujin were gravitating towards each other closer and closer. They had been together for almost a year now and were inseparable as ever.

You observed Sori stand from where she was sat and approach your way. Mingyu tensed up visibly.

"Seven!"

"Hey, Mingyu, do you have a moment?"

"Five!"

"Sure," Mingyu smiled at Sori, turning his back to you.

"Three!"

"Two!"

Your whole entire being froze.

"One!"

"Happy new year, Mingyu," Sori said sentimentally, as she connected her lips with the man of your dreams.

DECEMBER 31st, SENIOR YEAR, ALMOST MIDNIGHT

Mingyu was dancing on top of the coffee table.

Jeonghan's family had recently bought a new coffee table, which looked a lot stronger than the glass one of previous years, but no coffee table was built for the purpose of one very tall and newly buff guy jumping and fist pumping on it. You were in the corner, covering your laughs with your hand.

"Y/N!" he screeched at the top of his lungs as he stumbled off the table, "Join me!"

"No, you are insane, Gyu," you resisted him as he tugged on your hand, "Are you drunk?"

"Nope, just high on life," Mingyu winked, "C'mon, live a little! It's our last party in high school."

"But it's definitely not our last party on New Year's Eve in this house; Seungcheol, Joshua, Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Jihoon, Jun and Soonyoung have all graduated college and they're still here!" you pointed out, your eyes passing over a few of them mixed in the crowd.

"Please?" he widened his eyes into a puppy-dog expression, "Please dance with your best friend?"

"I'm not dancing with you on top of a coffee table, Mingyu," you stated firmly, "I don't really have a thing for public humiliation. And I'm not your best friend; Wonwoo is."

"No, you are my best friend. So is Wonwoo and Seungkwan and Minghao and Seokmin and Shua and Vernon and Junhui and-"

"I get it- you have more friends than me, Gyu," you chuckled.

"Hey, that's not what I'm saying," he rolled his eyes, clasping his hand around your wrist even tighter, "Please?"

"Gyu," you groaned, stomping in protest.

"Fine, you party-pooper," he stuck his tongue out at you endearingly and relaxed by your side, which caught you by surprise due to the eyes trained on him waiting for his triumphant return to the table.

"What are you doing?" you inquired.

"What do you mean?"

"Aren't you... getting back on the table?" you questioned.

"I'm kinda tired anyway," Mingyu shrugged, "And I think i noticed a dent in the wood so maybe I shouldn't get back on."

"Oh my God, you better pray Han never finds out," you snorted, "You're crazy- you know that right?"

"If crazy you mean crazy for you, then, yes I do," he winked teasingly.

Your cheeks flared up. You'd been friends with Mingyu for a couple of years and yet he still had this effect on you. You figured he'd continue making you feel this way for a long, long time.

Kim Mingyu was not the kind of guy that was easy to get over. Getting over him was certainly, certainly not as easy as falling in love with him, and you knew it too because you'd been trying to get over him for months and months and months, to no avail.

"Hey, what's up in that nutcase shell of yours?" he flicked his finger gently on your head, "A party is not meant for thinking."

"Shut up," you said quietly; you didn't have very much to retort with as your head emptied to only contain thoughts of him.

"No, tell me. Thoughts aren't fun, so you should share to lessen the burden," he prodded.

You stifled a laugh, "How drunk are you, Gyu? Thoughts aren't fun? Is that why you seem so brainless all the time? Because you don't like doing the primary function of humans- thinking?"

"And you're dodging my question with your favourite defence mechanism- insulting me," he fired back quietly as he grasped your wrist again, tugging you down the large hallway, which was still filled with people, yet less so than the living room. He slid down against a wall in a spot between a few people and pulled you down with him, "Now tell your best friend what's up."

"Bold of you to assume you're my best friend when Yujin and Herin exist," you folded your arms to warm yourself up.

"I am your best friend. You are mine. People can have multiple best friends, so stop dodging and spill. Don't disappoint me on our friendaversary," he pouted.

You looked to him with some kind of awe in your eyes that you prayed he didn't pick up on, "You're something else, you know that right? But fine," you inhaled and exhaled deeply to collect yourself, "Humour me, Mingyu; what would you do if you want something that you know you can't have? Something so out of reach that you only dream of it, but you crave it. There are consequences for going for it, but if you don't, you're left with this kind of emptiness similar to a void left by a broken heart. What do you do?"

The playful glint that always seemed to reside in his eyes dulled for a few moments as he cocked his head in thought, "Oh damn, you went in deep, Y/N. I really was just expecting some small thing, but I guess for me, life is all about living in a way that at the end of it all, you'll look back to see no regrets. If it's something that you think you can't have, but you have the chance to go for it, then there's really a chance it's all in your head and that the thing is something you can have after all. If the thing was oh-so-forbidden, there'd be no way for you to reach it. Either way, there are consequences, right? The emptiness is a consequence. If you try, and yet you fail, at least you know you tried. What's worse is not trying and being left to wonder all your life about what could have been."

You listened and digested every wise word that he spewed. This kind of Mingyu was one you'd seen before, but not often. This side was usually reserved for pre-sunrise, post-midnight chats through grainy webcams and unsteady audio.

"I thought that you didn't like to think," you looked down and smiled, mostly to yourself.

"Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures. My best friend needs help and I've come to the rescue," you heard him laugh that beautiful laugh and lean his head back onto the wall.

The number of times he had called you his best friend in the past few minutes. He had no idea what situation he was offering advice on. He had no idea that he was egging on his best friend to confess to him. You knew that you couldn't take his advice; you were far too weak for that. You imagined that maybe one day, in the far, far future, you'll be able to tell him about how you were in love with him for years, but definitely not now.

"So, when are you going to confess to the boy you like?"

Record scratch. Freeze frame. Shocked expression.

You snapped your head to meet Mingyu's eyes, "W-what? What are you talking about?"

"C'mon, Y/N, we both know you're not talking about some kind of material possession like a bag or a cake. It's obviously a boy. That's the way people talk about forbidden loves," he chuckled, "I may be drunk and losing brain cells as we speak, but Y/N, I'm not stupid or clueless. Just confess to the boy, or girl, if that's what you like. If they reject you, I'll be here to beat them up and then take you out for ice cream afterwards."

You shook your head vehemently, "No- no, you've got this all wrong."

"Stop denying it," he chortled, "As your best friend I know when you lie. You put on this high pitched voice and get all fidgety. You should work on that, Y/N. But seriously, just confess, Y/N. You'll regret not doing so, especially if they're in our year and about to go graduate and go off to college."

You slumped against the wall and let out a sigh, "I know you're right, Gyu, but I also know i'm weak."

"You'll be okay," he reassured you, and you could feel the smile in his beautiful voice, "I'm here for you."

"Ten!"

Oh my God, the countdown was beginning.

"Nine!"

You've never had a New Year's Kiss.

"Eight!"

You probably should have secured one earlier in the night with all those fancy eyebrow quirks Mingyu talked about the first time you met.

"Seven!"

Or maybe you should confess to Mingyu.

"Six!"

And ruin his night? Forget it! You'll ruin his New Year's.

"Five!"

No, Y/N! No better time than the present right? Just tell him you like him, and kiss him and then never speak to him again. You're going to college in a few months anyway.

"Hey, Mingyu?"

"Yes, princess?"

"I-"

"Mingyu!

Fuck. The girl on the other side of him probably wants to kiss him. Everyone does, including you.

"Do you have a New Year's Kiss?" the girl asked him with a deepened, sultry voice.

"Two!"

"No, I don't."

"One."

You squeezed your eyes shut, as you felt the shuffling of Mingyu leaning closer towards the girl beside you.

Don't cry, Y/N. He's not worth it.

"Happy New Year!"

You scoffed and listened to the sound of your heart cracking into pieces instead of the loud cheers and hoots and the sound of Mingyu kissing another girl.

DECEMBER 31st, FRESHMAN YEAR OF COLLEGE, ALMOST MIDNIGHT

You haven't seen Mingyu in months. Ever since you parted ways for college, you've been deprived of your sweet best friend, who remained as your best friend and nothing more in the time after. You were now separated by more than a couple of hours, and neither of you had the time, or money to close those miles between you.

Maybe it was better that way. You didn't have to be reminded of the heartbreak and the void he unintentionally left with you every time that you looked at his face. Despite that, you can say that you miss him a lot- like, a lot. Before you fell in love with him, he really was your best friend and continues to be.

Even through your busy college schedules, he tries and makes time for you. Be it sending a meme or a little Snapchat update or even a rare late-night phone call, he really tries to keep your friendship strong. Of course, you reciprocate, because having Mingyu out of your life was far worse than having him in your life but only as your best friend. You'll survive. You'll manage. One day, you'll move on.

The annual tradition of the New Year's Party at Yoon Jeonghan's house was upheld and everyone you knew that always attended was present at the moment, except him. The missing presence of Kim Mingyu was felt largely. It was a party, yet it felt quiet. He really was the life of the party- a buzz directed your attention to your phone.

from: gyu:p

how's the party? dead without me?

to: gyu:p

lowkey, it kind of is. so get your ass here to bring it back to life like it normally is.

from: gyu:p

that's what i like to hear \(>.>)/ i'll be there really soon. can't wait to see your pretty face. missed u so much y/n!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The way that Mingyu texted was confusing. It left you with a lot of confusing feelings. He was flirty by nature- that you knew very well. That didn't mean that every time he texted something of the sort, you didn't experience the usual butterflies- you always did.

You sighed and slipped your phone into your jean pocket. You couldn't wait to see Mingyu.

He had vacationed over the winter holidays with his family, and they hadn't planned to return until after New Year's, but a very persistent Mingyu convinced them to let him go back alone. The party was very important; it was a meaningful tradition of gathering together with your best friends to start the New Year off right.

When Mingyu arrived, you were alerted quickly due to the fact that a million voices cried out in surprise. No one had known he would be making an appearance apart from you and a select few others. It wasn't really a big thing; he just chose not to publicly announce it, so everyone who asked knew.

He was crowded by people as soon as he stepped in, and that wasn't really your scene, so you stayed beside your usual spot by the snack table and watched fondly as people passed him around like a pass-the-parcel gift, waiting to strip him of every story that he had of college. It was okay; you knew them all anyway.

It took him exactly 27 minutes to finally reach you, at which point you were kind of restless, "Took you long enough," you tutted towards him as he approached with a shy smile.

His hair was a light brown teetering on the edge of blonde. You had only seen it in pictures, which you then realised didn't do it justice because he looked so ethereal approaching you, "What can I say? I'm popular."

"And humble as ever," you grin as you accept his warm hug.

The way that his large arms snaked around you made you feel safe, secure, protected and loved; it was the kind of hug that you never desired to break from as you snuggled yourself as close as you could to him.

"Oh, you really missed me huh?" you almost pulled away at his teasing statement, "But I missed you more. God, I can't believe I lived without my best friend like that. Should I transfer to your college? Maybe you could come to mine."

"Shut up, you drama queen," you voice muffled against his jumper, "I missed your stupid face. It's not the same through a screen."

He was the first to pull away, "I know. Let's try and meet up instead of leaving months of waiting. Stop wasting your money on those k-pop idols that you like and maybe you can afford a train ticket."

"Hey, watch where you're treading, Kim," you squinted at him playfully, "But yes, let's save up for a train ticket. Still, I can't believe you convinced your parents to let you leave your holiday early."

"I'm an adult, Y/N. I'm literally in college; they have no rule over me," he huffed.

"He says, as he continues to depend on his mother's frozen tupperwares of food to feed him," you tease.

"Aish, still so mean," he grunted, "You know, I'm here because I didn't want to miss our friendaversary! It's very important to me! What is it- 3 years now?"

You smiled lightly, "3 years actually isn't a very long time."

"It is with you," he dropped, "For all the suffering you've inflicted on me. It's felt like forever."

You let out a laugh and smack your hand against his arm, "You're just as mean as I am!"

"That's why we're best friends," he grinned, "Oh, and I'm here because I have to tell you something."

"So do I!"

You had no idea what he wanted to tell you. For all you assumed, it was that he had a new girlfriend that he didn't tell you about, but you had exactly one thing to tell him.

The decision to confess was one that you didn't come to easily. It was a decision that came with many sleepless nights and bruised and peeling lips from biting them in thought. However, it was just an opportunity too good. You could tell him, then disappear for months when he rejected you. You would have no reason to see him, being miles away and all that. When in high school, you would've had to see him far too often for it to be tolerable.

You needed to confess. You knew it was going to break your friendship, but this was a burden that weighed too heavy. It anchored you to the depths of suffering every time you spoke to him and you were over it. You needed to tell him, whatever the consequence. Sure, he'd reject you, but you thought that after a while, the two of you could return to being friends again. After all, time heals everything and maybe confession was the step that would kick-start Plan Get Over Kim Mingyu.

"Hey Mingyu?" a feminine voice that didn't belong to you called to him. The noises of heels clinking on laminated floors grew stronger, "Can we talk?"

Your eye darted to the clock. It was almost midnight.

"No!" you protested firmly, "Not to be crass, but literally leave. I'm speaking to him."

The girl's mouth dropped in shock as she scanned you up and down, "Yah, what's up with you? That was so unwarranted. Whatever."

You huffed in contention as she marched away, before turning to the gobsmacked Mingyu.

"What is up with you?" he gawked, "What has college done to my polite little bird?"

You crossed your arms and huffed, "My problem is that you say that the idea of a New Year's Eve kiss is lame, let every single year you just submit yourself to hypocrisy and kiss every girl within 5 feet of you when the ball drops. My problem is that you always do it while I'm next to you, Mingyu, and it bothers the fuck out of me."

He scrunches his eyebrows together as he stares at you in confusion, "I- I'm sorry? I won't do it again? I'll kiss away from you? I'll not kiss anyone at all? What do you want me to say? You're confusing me, Y/N."

"No! You're confusing me, you giant idiot," you huffed, "Okay- I'm only saying this because I never have to see you when I leave for college again, but dammit, Kim Mingyu. I'm in love with you. There! I said it! Only took me a year since you gave me the advice to do it, but there! I've been in love with you for three years and it's been painful watching you kiss everyone but me."

"Ten!"

Oh, the damn countdown begins.

"Nine!"

Mingyu stands in front of you with an unreadable expression.

"Eight!"

Even then, you still think you can see the most beautiful galaxies in his eyes.

"Seven"

You groan inwardly as regret seeps into your bones, "You're not going to say anything?"

"Six!"

He closes his mouth and tugs his lower lip inwards, catching it with his teeth. You shake your head.

"Five!"

The cracking of your heart was louder than any other year. It was also painful, this time around, in such an inexplicable way.

"Four!"

You meet his eyes, "I'm really sorry to ruin our friendship, but I had to, Mingyu. It was beginning to get painful keeping it inside."

"Three!"

You turn away.

"Two!"

He catches your wrist, and swivels you around, but also pulls you close to him.

"Y/N, you're such an idiot," he sighs, with a grin invading his face, "I adore you. I cherish you. I love you. I'm in love with you."

"One!"

"W-what?"

And then the feeling of his lips on yours overcomes all the sensations in your body until he is the only thing you feel. The loud cheers of a new year blossoming is unnoticeable when all you could focus on was Mingyu.

As quickly as your heart broke, he pieced it right back together for you with just one touch. He realigned every star in your galaxy and lit up every dark corner and crevice.

He was a wondrous boy, of wondrous light. Kim Mingyu was wonderful, and he was wonderfully yours and kissing you at that moment.

"Y/N?" he mumbled against your lips as he slightly pulled away. The soft pads of his fingers felt comforting as they caressed the warm skin of your cheeks.

In a haze, you smile against his lips, "Yes, Mingyu?"

"Did you happen to eat some tree nuts earlier tonight?" he stutters out, "Cause I think I'm getting an allergic reaction. Either that or my love for you is crippling me."

You pull away in alarm and notice his swelling lips, "Oh my God, Mingyu, you're having an allergic reaction! Yes, I did eat nuts! Was I expecting to kiss you tonight? No! Call the ambulance, Mingyu-"

He laughs, dismissing the forthcoming effects that would soon render him ugly, swelled and pained, "No, I think it's my crippling love for you."

"Mingyu, you idiot. Stop flirting with me and get your epipen out!"

[hansoulchews]

Terrifyingly Innocent [masterlist]

Pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader

Synopsis: Fearful of losing her, yet unwilling to leave; this agreement between Seungcheol and his best friend’s little sister was meant to be casual and temporary, yet he finds himself growing more attached to her day by day.

Genre: Fluff, angst, fake dating, slowburn, older brother’s best friend!Seungcheol, badboy!Seungcheol, innocent!reader, older brother!Jihoon, non-idol!au, university!au, low-key Crazy Rich Asians!au (Seungcheol is RICH - implied chaebol lifestyle, Jihoon and reader’s family aren’t chaebols and are commoners but well-off)

Warnings: PG-13, specific warnings will be listed per chapter.

A/N: Inspired by One Direction’s ‘Perfect’ and BigBang’s ‘Let’s Not Fall in Love’.

Please drop an ask if you would like to be added to the taglist!

the original stickynote

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epilogue: 6 months later

[hansoulchews]

[hansoulchews]

kissing mingyu until both of your lips are bruised and swollen. kissing mingyu would be so messy and quick, just both of you lost in the moment. it would probably escalate to something more-

you whimpering into his mouth and letting out small moans would turn him on so much. he would slowly trail kisses down your jaw as you thread your fingers through his hair. mingyu also letting out breathy moans and grunts in between, telling you how you’re such a good girl for him.

slowly you would grind onto his lap, feeling his hard on pressing onto your core. mingyu would pull away from your jaw, leaving even harder kisses on your lips, making it hard for you to breathe.

“m-mingyu- i w-want you.” you moan into his mouth desperately trying to get closer to him.

he chuckles, pulling away from your mouth. you try to follow him but stop when you see the dark look in his eyes.

“oh baby. you’ve already started something and I’m not going to stop.” he leans in closer pulling your hips down closer to his, making you moan. “and you’re going to be a good girl for me right?” he says as he brings his hand to your face caressing it, only to roughly grab your jaw to pull you in for another messy kiss.

[hansoulchews]

SVT Hogwarts AU part 25 : OHHHHH MYYYYYYYYYYY GODDDDDD jasmine!