#vernon drabble

[studioeisa]

because/despite 🎸 vernon x reader.

one fine day, you find a list.

★ vernon x rockstar!reader, a.k.a the catch you when i can couple. ★ word count: 1.5k ★ genre/warnings: established relationship, romance, fluff. set after the events of part five; based on a headcanon from part four. ★ footnotes: happy 0218 day. couldn't let it pass without an ode to my darling couple. 🎸🐻‍❄️

It’s a lazy kind of day. The kind where neither of you have anywhere to be, no pressing schedules or urgent obligations. Just you, Vernon, and the sun filtering through the curtains, painting golden stripes over tangled limbs and soft sheets.

You can’t help the sound of protest that rises out from the back of your throat when Vernon tries to disentangle from you. 

“No need to be so clingy,” he huffs, ruffling your hair as he rises from the bed. “I’m not going anywhere you can’t reach.”

“We were so comfortable,” you whine in protest. 

You’re momentarily distracted by the sight of his bare back as he crosses the room, but even that is ripped away from you too soon. He pulls his shirt back on, and you grumble something under your breath. It sounds suspiciously like selfish bastard. 

Your boyfriend pays you no heed. Go figure. 

“Getting us snacks,” he announces. “Want anything?” 

“You’re the only snack—” 

Your shirt hits you squarely in the face. 

“Hey!” you sputter in between laughter, ready to retaliate with a pitch of your own. 

Vernon is already slipping out, though, leaving the door open a crack behind him. The sound of his chuckles carries over from the next room. It’s the type of moment you used to pray for, isn’t it? 

You flop back down onto the bed. You should get up, but you realize there’s something you want— nay, need— to do. When you reach around the sheets, you’re less than pleased to not have your phone within reach. 

Charging in the living room. Right. 

Your fingers catch on Vernon’s phone, though, and you figure that’ll have to do. 

“Borrowing your phone for a sec,” you holler out to your boyfriend. 

It’s more of a cursory thing; there were no secrets between you and Vernon. His sound of approval from the kitchen is to be expected. Your mind supplies you with the image of what he must look like— barefoot, leaning into your refrigerator, rummaging through all the cans of soda in search for something somewhat substantial. 

Man, the things you’d give up to have this forever. 

You punch in his password and pull up Instagram. Your private, joint couple account has chronicled your relationship since day one, and this is a moment you want immortalized. The sun hitting the bed post just right. The mess of your hair; a product of his restless fingers. The domestic bliss of it all. 

There’s a specific caption you want. Something about laundry and taxes. You let out a low ‘tsk’ as you try to recall it verbatim. It’s a good thing your boyfriend keeps a meticulous note of all his favorite movie quotes. 

Later, you will swear up and down to Vernon that it was looking up at you. You hadn’t gravitated to his Notes app with the intention to pry! You just wanted to be sweet, to be cute. A girlfriend who could accurately quote Everything Everywhere All at Once. 

It tempted you. A locked note, the title nothing but a rock guitar emoji.

You tilt your head. Interesting.

Of course, you try to open it.

It asks for a passcode, and you roll your eyes. Vernon is predictable, so you type in your birthday. Wrong. His birthday. Wrong. 

The name of your secret couple’s Instagram account? 11203km. Bingo. 

The note unlocks, and immediately, the screen floods with words. It takes a bit to load, like the note is bogged down by the sheer amount of content in it. That might be the case, really. After all— as you find out later— the note has been sitting snugly in his phone for years now. 

It’s fairly straightforward. Bullet point after bullet point, all starting with the same four words. I love you because. 

I love you because you hum when you’re tuning your guitar.

I love you because you let me steal your fries even though you pretend to complain.

I love you because my shirts are all a little bit big on you, and it makes you look cute. 

You let out a stuttering breath. The entries are specific enough for you to know they’re about you, but general in a way that you wouldn’t know when or where they were written. It could’ve been on his plane ride here, could’ve been weeks ago, could’ve been just this morning. 

You can’t help it. You keep scrolling, your eyes flitting over the big and small moments that your boyfriend has masterfully kept from you. A dragon hoarding its treasure. And then— 

I love you because even when you said goodbye, I couldn’t stop loving you.

Your stomach drops. Suddenly, you’re taken back to the headlines, the time apart, the brief stint at being shitty exes. PLEDIS Confirms SEVENTEEN’s Vernon Has Broken Up With Rockstar Girlfriend. The whole breakup lasted only a couple of months, but it’d felt like the longest few months of your life.

If Vernon’s entries are anything to go by, then he felt the same. 

I love you because I know you thought leaving was the best thing for me. But I wish you’d stayed.

I love you because you perform like you went through a wholeass divorce. Hot. 

I love you. I don’t know how not to. 

You swallow, the lump in your throat thick, threatening to spill over into something heavier— until a voice cuts through the silence.

“You fuckin’ snoop.” 

Vernon stands over the side of your bed, watching you over your shoulder. Damn him and his uncanny ability to move in silence. He sets aside the plate of fruit he’d prepared before plucking the phone from your fingers.

Thankfully, he doesn’t look particularly displeased. The guilty-as-charged expression on your face must be enough for him, because your boyfriend only looks vaguely exasperated. 

“First of all,” he says, “you cracked my passcode?” 

You sit up, propping yourself up by your elbows. “You should really be more unpredictable.” 

“Noted.” Vernon falls back into bed, one of his eyebrows quirking upward inquisitively. “How much did you read?” 

You press your lips together, and instead of answering, you just look at him. Really look at him. He’s teasing, sure, but there’s something soft in his expression. Something open and raw, like he’s challenging you to be as honest as he’s been. You take him up on it. 

“You kept writing,” you say, your voice small and disbelieving, “even when we weren’t together.” 

His teasing edge fades, replaced by something more sincere. “Yeah,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Why?” 

“Why not?” 

The answer is so quintessentially him that you can’t help the half-laugh, half-groan that escapes you. His easy grin only widens a bit at your amusement— like your happiness is the only reason he does any of this. 

Something in your chest tightens all over again, but this time, it’s different. This time, it’s warmth, pooling in your ribcage, spreading through every inch of you. 

You roll over until you can rest your chin on his chest. Instinctively, Vernon wraps an arm around your waist, bracing you against him. He stares down at you with the smile of a man who has found reason after reason after reason to adore you, across the five years of this whole thing.  

That’s what makes it easy for you, too, to blurt out, “I love you, even though you’re shit at peeling oranges.” 

Vernon barks out a startled laugh. “What?” 

It’s the first thing that came to mind; the fruit is peeled haphazardly and plated messily at your bedside, after all. You ignore his confusion, barrelling on. “I love you despite the fact you pet all stray cats, rabies be damned,” you say. “I love you even though it’s absolute hell to take photos of you because you have the same pose for everything.” 

Realization seems to dawn on Vernon. He attempts to pinch your side, but the playful move only has you burrowing further into him. 

“I love you despite your resting bitch fa— hey— ce!” Your words are punctuated by a squeal as Vernon ups his ante, his fingers skating over your sides. 

“Don’t go stealing my gig,” he complains. 

You thrash underneath his tickling, trying, still, to keep going in between breathless giggles. “I love— love’y— even though— even— Hansol!”

He laughs, unrelenting. 

The fruit lays forgotten at your bedside. The sheets are crumpled, twisted between the two of you. The sun sinks; the world goes on without the two of you, just for today.

Vernon loves you because— you love him despite— 

[coupsalchemy]

Strawberry Cake

Summary - The one where he is almost a lover, but not quite yet.

Tags: Hansol x f.reader, best friends au, fluff

Warnings: none for now

Word Count: 1.3k

Hansol is gonna get you killed, one way or the other. You beg in your head, sending signals with your face to not come to your side, Hansol’s frown only deepens, narrowed eyes as he takes glances back at you. 

You are done with your classes for the day. On Tuesdays Hansol and your schedule is similar, resulting in this awkward situation between you, Hansol and his girlfriend. The dance between you three is the same, only different thing is there’s a new girl every three months as Hansol’s girlfriend. The signs are glaring like an afternoon summer sun. 

You drop your attempts to salvage his relationship, let whatever happens happen. You are tired, sick and heartbroken, to dance along with his steps, to receive the hate, on behalf of him too. 

“If you hadn’t lured him with your sickly sweet words, he wouldn’t have come.” 

One of his exes has cornered you the day after Hansol came in the middle of the night to bring food, you have had the bad case of flu. You didn’t have the guts to retaliate, the scenario repeating again and again that you are coming in terms that it might be true. 

You avoided his texts, calls and the places on the campus where you know he definitely will be there. Being best friends since high school you have to know that he isn’t gonna let you off the hook. He tracked you down, had you cornered, proud smile seeing your flustered face. He takes your heavy bag from your shoulder, hiking it up on his, informing you casually that he broke up with his girlfriend, like it's a weather report. 

Since then none of his girlfriends interacted with you without having him around. He made sure, picky about the girls he dated, but none of them stuck around. 

Seokmin says something, his words like a dull background music to your ears, not exactly attentive but none of his words register in your head. The dance starts again, his girlfriend noticing the distracted gaze of her boyfriend, glares at you, the source of his distraction. There is no need for words when a single look can tell you what you avoided to hear.

You pull up your back up plan, stopping Seokmin mid sentence with your hand on his arm, “Seokmin, you told me about that Strawberry cake last time, remember?” He gives a confused nod, how his yapping on transformers is linked to a cake. 

You know it in your bones Hansol recognises this pattern. The way he presses his lips in a thin line, and clenching of his fist, the other hand which isn’t holding his girlfriend. It aches you to see this, him, with a girl, and not throw up everytime. 

“I want to try it. Can we go now?” You see the hesitance in his smile, watching your best friend and not you, the one who asked. It pisses you off. “Please,” you beg, subtly. 

Seokmin then turns to you, almost with a pity smile, “let’s go.” 

Hansol turns around, his sharp focus on you, he attempts to take a step only to get stopped by his girl, who is beaming with the privacy they will finally get. Hansol watches you follow Seokmin to his car, you don’t look back knowing one look from his doe eyes and you’ll be dancing with him again. Not today, not when he can’t figure out his feelings. You know what's between you two, the dynamic has shifted years ago, you are aware of what you feel towards him, now it's his time to figure out his shit. Because, Hansol, who always carries your bag for you, doesn't even open a door for his girlfriend.

—

It's been a week since you last saw Hansol. You are cooped up in your room, laptop playing Harry Potter, the series you used to binge watch with him, no matter how many reruns, it's always been with him. You miss him in a way words can’t explain, you’ll be grabbing a mug to pour yourself hot chocolate, and grab for the other one, his mug, that’s always in your kitchen. Everything in your room comes in twos, he is deeply intertwined. 

You sniffle into your pillow, controlling your tears, watching Harry lose Sirius. Before you can break into a sob, the door to your room slams open, police siren breaking the peaceful atmosphere. Hansol saunters into your room, kicking the door shut with his leg. 

“Got the intel saying Harry Potter is being watched without Hansol.” He grins, shoving the phone to your ear, the sirens blasting your eardrum. “You are under arrest.” 

“Chwe Hansol!” You throw a pillow onto him, “stop that fucking sound. I swear.” 

You push away his hands, he laughs, resting his knee on the mattress, pinning your hands with one hand, and puts his phone on your face, not letting you escape his clutch. You turn around in his hold, on your knees, sliding down, he tugs you back underneath him, his legs either side of your waist. 

“Per law you can hire a lawyer. Whatever you say now will be used.” Hansol pins your hands to your chest, his lips part, tongue peeking out to wet them, his eyes dilate. You struggle under his hold, twisting side to side hoping you’ll slither down. He clicks his tongue in mockery to your futile attempts, he pins your hands above your head, “why were you avoiding me?”

You are for sure your heart is in your mouth, the close proximity, his body pressing you down, his warmth igniting a burning desire you suppressed over the years, reigning over the fact how you were successful, only for him to come in like a wrecking ball and smash everything. 

“Avoid? Who? Me?” You bat your eyelashes.

He scoffs, tugging your hands up, you hold up the sound that almost made past your lips. “Why are you avoiding me?”

“Hansol, did you ever consider what your girlfriend will think seeing us being in this position?” You touch the sensitive topic tenderly, as if holding a delicate flower, scared you’ll tear the petals accidentally. 

Hansol ponders, still not loosening his grip or making at least an attempt of letting you go. “No need to worry,” he leans closer, “I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

“What?”

He nods, letting your hands go, “broke up with her one week ago.” 

“Why now?” You sit up, pulling yourself away from his legs. 

He shrugs, falling onto the bed next to you, nuzzling his face into your hip. You stand up from the bed, Hansol frowns, joining you, you avoid him, going into the kitchen, “I don’t get you.” 

He is behind you, “get what?”

You push past him, into the living room, sitting on the couch. He is throwing you off tangent, acting like an almost lover but not quite a lover. He sits beside you, smiling at the little game you two are participating in. You avoid him, him trailing behind you like a lost puppy. “Hansol,” you whine. 

“Yes,” he rests his knee on your lap turning towards you, pinning you down before you can escape again. 

“What are you doing?” 

Hansol wets his lips again, sucking in a deep breath before saying, “loving you. Like always.”

“What?” your voice is barely a whisper. 

“I think,” he musters up the courage, “I have always been in love with you. Don’t ask me when I don’t even know. I didn’t even realize I love you as a man loves his woman, and not like a friend. I feel like a fool, I can sense a plot twist in a movie way before anyone can and I couldn’t even see this,” he circles his around your waist, “us, until it’s too late.” 

Tears well up in your eyes, “I mean, you are an idiot.” 

He grins, “yeah.” 

You push his leaning face with your forefinger, “how are you sure that I love you too? I never said that.”

Hansol leans in anyway, resting his chin on your shoulder, “I’m an idiot, but not that stupid. I connected the dots,” he looks at you once, hesitantly leaning in to kiss your neck. 

“Chwe Hansol,” you push him off you, “you aren’t going to get me that easily.” 

He groans, “I brought strawberry cake, will that help?” 

[jeonjaemark]

the one i’ve been missing || chwe hansol

content warning: none || masterlist

“thank you ma’am. i hope you enjoy the rest of your day.” the waitress smirks, handing me back my card and receipt for my check.

“thank you. i hope you have a good day too.” i return her smile and push my seat out heading towards the exit.

i turn the corner reaching the elevators. a small group of people scurry off the platform as a woman holds it open for me. press the level i needed to reach when i heard a deep voice.

“hey! wait! hold the elevator!”

the elevator start to close its doors but i quickly hit the button to remain open. a guy dressed in a white tee, a pair of jeans and converse with his baseball cap and headphones walked in. he shoots me a quick thank you for before putting on his zipped up jacket.

i look up from my phone when i smell a familiar citrus and woodsy scent.

“vernon?” i raised an eyebrow.

“y-yeah.” he stared at me as if i invaded his personal space. “y/n? w-what are you doing here?”

“i came here for a lunch date with myself. you?”

“there is a record shop just a few doors down from the restaurant.”

“it’s been a while since i last saw you. is everything

“some things have been different. you know touring the world and all with twelve other dudes.”

“so you’re still in a long committed relationship with those twelve other dudes and doing what you love.” i chuckled.

“y-yeah.” he half laughs. “what about you? i can’t remember the last time i saw you.”

“i have been traveling around. it’s time consuming being

“this is my floor. i’d love to see you again and the guys. that’s if they’re in town with you too.”

“yeah, we have a few days off. uhmm, how about we hang out tomorrow?”

i nod agreeing as vernon steps out of the elevator. “okay, just text me the details to your place and i will be around maybe noon.”

————————

“you have to joking! that is not the best christmas movie!” vernon spat, taking another slice of pizza from the table.

i clutch my chest as if to gasped for air, “get out of my house! you will not slander my favorite christmas movie of all time.”

“y/n, the princess switch doesn’t have much of a plot. home alone has a plot and it’s the best christmas movie. even elf has a better plot line than the princess switch.”

“i am suddenly realizing why we lost touch all these years.”

“what’s the princess switch?”

vernon face palms his forehead sliding down the couch dramatically. i scoff as his actions but ignored him to answer the question. vernon can pretend all he wants that he despises the princess switch but i know he secretly likes watching it with me.

“nonie! i am fine. we don’t have to do anything. it’s whatever, kai went to the winter dance with vivienne and they will live happily ever after.”

“just forget the dance. he’s not worth your time anyways. we can watch all three princess switch movies at my house.” his voice soft and warm trying to cheer me up.

“you hate this movie.” i whined.

“yeah, but i hate seeing you sad even more. c’mon, i have a bag of kettle corn with your name on it.”

“you are willing to suffer through three movies to make me feel better?”

“that’s what best friends are for, right?”

i chuckle reaching up to hug. he instantly wraps his arms around me giggling.

———

“if fiona and peter don’t end up together then i will riot.” seokmin mumbles to josh.

i chuckle to myself sideyeing him and turn my attention to vernon. his body slouched down into the couch while hugging a pillow. his eyes laser focused on the tv screen and the corners of his lips rise.

on the tv fiona had just entered the cafeteria where her estranged mother was waiting for her. my eyes start to tear up hearing fiona talk about how she was let down by her mom not being present in her life and she walks out but decides to walk back to her. vernon didn’t even look in my direction but he holds up a tissue for me. i smirk glancing at him and take the tissue. a loud sniffle comes from the other side of the couch as the credits roll. everyone turns their heads staring at seokmin who had tissues in his hands and tears streaming down his cheek.

“okay, we’ve watched all three princess switched movies and home alone, now it’s time for everyone to decide which movie is best?”

vernon and i stood up in front of the tv while we asked josh, seokmin, seungkwan, dino, mingyu, jun, seungcheol and jeonghan. each member comments of which is their favorite movie to watch. we end up with a tie which meant josh is the tie breaker.

“i am sorry, y/n. i have to go with vernon’s pick.” josh says.

“three to four, i win!” vernon cheers sticking his tongue out at me as the other disperse into their own conversation over dinner.

“whatever. the princess switch is still my favorite movie. to each their own, i guess.” i crossed my arms against my chest.

“do you want to bake some desserts like stacy in the princess switched?” he asked.

“and this is why you’re best friend.” i grin linking arms with him.

“we are best friends because you have co dependency issues and haven’t been able to let me go since the third grade.”

i laugh at his joke tossing a pillow in his direction. he throws his arms up protecting his head from my attacks. we go back and forth reminiscing over old memories together like the time i came home crying after a boy i liked rejected me or the time vernon thought he could run through the grass field before the sprinklers could turn on without getting wet. in the middle of laughing over old memories, an unknown overwhelming feeling hits me. i look up at vernon from my eyelashes as he hugs himself trying to catch his breath from laughing. a wave nostalgia hits me remembering the scene of fiona and her estranged mom except i was remembering how vernon and i have gone estranged.

“hey, is everything okay? you’re crying.” his voice filled with concern, wiping away a tear from the corner.

i smile at him. my eyes glossy mumbling, “yeah. i just missed you.”

“you’ve been here with me all day. i am not sure how you’re missing me.”

i roll my eyes at him before shoving his shoulder gently, “i meant, in general, loser. i missed spending time with you especially around the holiday season. it’s hits me more that we have grown distant.”

a few tears slip down my cheek as i sniffle. the guys all looked at one another and talk over one another to leave the living room. they scatter out of my apartment leaving vernon and i alone. a hollow hole sits in the chest making it hard to compose myself. vernon straighten his posture, his shoulders rigid as he wraps an arm around me.

“y/n, i am still here for you and i always will be. i haven’t gone anywhere.” he reassures me.

“i know. it’s just things have been different. you know they’ve changed, it’s not the same like before when we used to always hang out and see each other. now we have lives that we gotta live, even if it means we aren’t a part of each other’s everyday. it’s just sucks a little more on the day when i miss you, that’s all. i am not trying to be too mushy or anything.”

i wipe away my tears finally taking a breath. for years i have grown comfortable with how our dynamic in our friendship has changed. slowly vernon stopped texting me, but i can’t fully blame him. i have also withdrawn from him too. i got scared waiting to see if he would make time for me again and i decided to board up my heart so no one could break it.

after running into vernon after years of barely contacting one another, the feelings of longing make a surprise appearance. my heart slowly cracks thinking about all the broken slow replied exts and cancelled hang outs which never got rescheduled.

vernon squeezes my shoulder pulling me closer to him and rest his head against mine. “y/n,i have missed you too. i agree it’s not not the same like it was before. things have changed and i will fault in that for growing apart from you. i just want to remind you that even though life does take over you’ll always be my person. no one gets me like you do, so i don’t ever want to lose you. you’re my safe place and best friend.”

“vernon, you jerk! you’re not supposed to say these things to me.” i cried, smacking his arm. “you’re my safe place too. i just miss having you around and feeling connected with you. nowadays it just feels like we are casual acquaintances and i don’t like it”

“how about once a month we plan a weekend hang out together?” he suggested.

“i am not sure i want to see your face once a month.” i tap my finger against my chin out of contemplation. “wait! how can we even hang out once a weekend? your schedule is literally packed throughout the entire year.”

“okay maybe a weekend is a bit of a stretch considering we are both out traveling with packed schedules. we can have weekly facetime calls to catch up and talk. also if one of us is in town then we can meet up.”

“sounds like a doable plan, mr. chwe.” i grin looking at him. i held my pinky up to him, “to being acquaintance to best friends again.”

“y/n, we’ve always been best friends.” he laughs.

“okay, to finding our way back to each other.”

he links his pinky with mine, “to finding our way back to each other.”

[wonwoonlight]

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

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

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

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

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

"Say something!"

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

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

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

"Why didn't you kiss anyone?"

"No one's my type."

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

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

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

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

"Shut up."

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

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

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

"I just want someone to kiss!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[yoonsdoll]

a love worth waiting for - chs

content : bsf!vernon x f!reader ; a lil angsty but fluff & happy ending ; 1.5k words warnings : vernon curses like 2ce lol - you are the most important person to vernon, but is it requited? an : i keep going on random writing hiatuses for no reason even tho i have so many ideas idek someone sos!!

vernon has loved you ever since he met you. as cheesy as it sounds, its something he cant deny whenever his friends ask him about, something he rants for hours about to his sister, something he finds himself thinking about more often than not. 

he remembers it like it was yesterday, even if its been years. it was an unusual meeting; seeing a pretty girl on a walk in the middle of summer would usually be normal, if only he didn't trip on a rock and land awkwardly conveniently on your path… and then make a comment on how his sister has the same shoes as you as if you’d care.

but you did. you made sure he was okay and laughed at his comment, then blabbered something about how your boyfriend has a similar hat to him. and, oh. he should've seen that coming.

of course he should have. such a put together, sweet girl would obviously have lines of guys lining up at her feet (or falling, in hansols case). but that didn’t matter - you only just met, you’d probably become friends if he asked for your number, that would be enough for him.

and for the first few months it was enough. you hit it off great, messaging each other often and even hanging out occasionally… well, when your jackass boyfriend let you. he hated your boyfriend - no, despised him. it wasn't even a case of jealousy; more of a genuine worry, at least for a while. he made it vocal on how he doesn’t like how your boyfriend controlled your life, but obviously supported your choices anyway. who wouldn't? you became his best friend, he would do anything to see you happy.

behind the worry he presented, vernon was stuck.

“i don't get it, why would she be with him if he's so.. controlling and mean?” everyday he called his friends.

“she literally looks unhappy, i feel bad and.. i dunno, angry... is that stupid?” everyday he talked about it, about how he wants to help you and, well, about you. “shes so… nice and pretty and forgiving. dude, he really doesn’t deserve her.”

until one day, “i could treat her better.”

he accepted it. he knew it wasn’t fair, for him or for you. everything leading up to that moment that he did, he thought it was simply sympathy. he put on this friendly act to not hurt your feelings, but maybe it was to not hurt his own. you wore your heart on your sleeve. it was obvious you were in love with your boyfriend, not him. and no matter what he did, that wouldn’t change.

soon you noticed the same things that vernon begged you to see in your boyfriend for a very long time. the gaslighting, restrictiveness, the bored attitude, and when you drifted apart it was only a waiting game till you broke it off.

vernon was surprised that the way his eyes sparkled when you came to cry to him didn’t give him away. truthfully, he couldn’t care less about the way it all went down or what he told you while you broke up with him. what mattered was that you were out of the situation you were blinded in. 

“he was a fucking dick,” no brainer, “its unfair - y'know, someone you love being out of reach.” those words sounded awfully familiar.

actually, maybe to him what mattered more is that he finally could reach you.

“i still love him,” you mumbled between your tears as vernon cooed at you.

he should've seen that coming too, and he couldn’t blame you at all - ever. but why did it sting so much more than the first time?

when he searched for your laugh after making a joke, you were laughing out of pity. when he comforted you, you weren’t thinking about him and how he was always there for you, instead you were thinking about yourself. when home to him was wherever you were, home to you was wherever your ex boyfriend was.

you just lost someone so dear to you and he was being so selfish. 

you two breaking up should've been the greatest thing he has heard in months, but instead he suddenly couldn’t help but feel like there was a bigger wall between you both than ever. 

of course, you never had feelings for him in the first place. vernon knew that. but something in him always held onto the possibility of you ending up together. not anymore, not after those four words left your mouth. he felt stupid for ever even having hope.

he paused to think before he spoke - something he rarely ever did when he was with you. “i know you do.” shaking his head gently, he added, “your heart just got broken, its a fresh wound, of course you still love him.” did everything he say have to apply to him too? it was almost humiliating in a way.

“its embarrassing… im the one who broke it off, i shouldn’t like him.” right, you felt it too.

at the end of the day, no matter who he was to you, you recognised him as someone you could trust. you spoke your thoughts freely, you were always by his side, you were his best friend; thats something vernon failed to see. he understood now to expect nothing but appreciate everything. because after all, being your friend would always be enough for him.

vernon promised himself he wouldn’t do or say anything stupid for your sake. he knew breakups are tough, and he knew that feelings don’t change in a day. he loved you, so he never would blame you for anything negative you made him feel. he wouldn’t blame you because you didn’t know.

or so he thought.

because months later when you arrived at his door looking more nervous than usual with a small smile on your face, vernon couldn’t be more confused.

“its almost 11pm.. what’re you doing here…?”

you let yourself in, setting your shoes aside and placing your coat on the hanger before grabbing his hand and dragging him to the couch to sit down.

“is it true?” 

“...is what true?”

“is it true that you have feelings for me?”

was that a trick question? “i mean..” he cleared his throat with a harsh cough, leaving the room silent for a few moments that felt like hours. “is that really what you’re doing at my house at 11 in the evening?”

“stop it. stop avoiding the question. just answer me.” 

“where’d you even get that idea from? dude i mean, you’re my best friend so if you’re asking -”

“you know what im asking..” your hands felt clammy, suddenly regretting knocking on the door after debating if you should for a solid 5 minutes. “i’m.. not mad or anything.” you added.

this was the million dollar question. he felt scared. “ha..” he couldn’t help but scoff to himself, “yeah.” though his tone tried being confident, the lack of eye contact and leg jittering was enough to see how nervous he truly was.

“im… so sorry,” you stared at him with your nose slightly scrunched - a detail he noticed whenever you were upset. “what? sorry? pfft.. theres nothing to be sorry for.” you figured he’d say that.

“im sorry for not noticing it earlier. i feel like an idiot.”

“no.. i feel like the idiot.” he quickly butted in, trying to take the blame, “you shouldn’t have to ‘notice’ anything. i should have told you ages ago so we could get past… whatever this is. i was just being a pussy and i -”

you admired his dedication to try explain but decided to stop him. “no vernon, im sorry for making you wait.” 

making him wait? “what are you even talking about? you didn’t do anything i swear…”

“maybe you really are the idiot..” you suddenly smiled a little wider, catching him off guard, “i meant i'm sorry for not noticing my feelings.. for you.. earlier.”

if he was confused before, he was now completely dumbfounded. the frown on his face wiped into a completely new expression. one of certain shock and hope, but with an equal amount of doubt. 

“agh..” you groaned in fake annoyance, feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, “i’m telling you that i like you too.”

oh. for once, he didn’t see that coming.

“are you serious?” he mumbled out, struggling to process the consumed information, a million things going through his mind.

“no im lying.” you tilted your head, “obviously im serious, why else would i be here?”

“you’re right.. i don’t know why i said that.” he nodded, a smile forming on his own face, “im just… at a loss of words dude.”

he let go of a breath he didn’t notice he was holding, sighing from relief as he looked at you. no more words were exchanged before he moved closer to hug you. a hug of love, ease and joy.

“so.. can i be your boyfriend?” he whispered in a happier tone than before, the previous fear moulded into delight.

“yeah. i’d like that a lot.”

[smileyyoungchan]

omgg can i request an smau where you’re soft launching a relationship with woozi or vernon i think in the studio pics would be perfect 😍

Soft Launching a Relationship:

Woozi and Vernon Smau

Warnings: none!

Note: hope you’ll like this 😞 it was cute to make!! Love my best boy Woozi 😭

- Woozi

- Vernon

[heennnngggggarae]

07.09 PM

“How does that taste?” You asked as you spooned another one to your mouth,

“Mushy, but I like it,” Vernon replied, pausing mid-chew. 

“It’s supposed to be mushy, I think? Did I swap the recipe again?” You ask yourself as you stand up to grab your phone checking if you made the same mistake again from the past.

Vernon just stares at you for a second, before grabbing another spoonful of rice soaked soup to his mouth, “I wouldn’t be sad if you did. This taste awesome,” You hummed to yourself before nodding “If you think it’s good, I don’t mind then,”

Grabbing the spoon from him, you pull Vernon away from the pot and close the lid to let it simmer before sitting down at the counter. You beckoned him to get closer.

“Do you really think it tastes good?” You ask, smiling shyly at him, before getting a smile in return. “I think everything you make is good. I love when you cook for me, I just wish I could do the same,” He said before walking and resting between your thighs. 

“Maybe I should open a cooking class for you. How does that sound?” you say as you start playing with his hair, hearing a giggle in return. “I’d like that,” “great,” you nod as you press your lips to his cheeks.

(“We’re going to learn how to make peanut butter cookies first then,”

“Oh babe, you’re going to kill me, literally,”

“I’m just joking, obviously we’re going to make chocolate chip cookies,”

“I’d definitely like that”)

[pdri8]

can i ask you a question?

"vernon, baby." you lightly whispered, trying to wake him up but not wanting to jolt him scared.

it's four in the morning, you have stuffed your brain with enough instagram reels to have sufficient understanding that this should not be the reason to wake up your boyfriend yet you just cannot stop wondering what vernon would say. he has his own insightful ways of expressing his . . feelings or well, answers.

you had laid your head on his arm, tossing and turning while he was peacefully sleeping. this made you feel slightly guilty on waking up vernon while he had a morning class within a few hours.

before you paused your action to stop shaking him and simply, ask him once he is awake in the actual morning, he had already been rubbing his eyes. "hey, yes. are you okay?" he said with his raspy voice that let you have a wider smile knowing this man, you were in the arms of, is completely utterly yours.

such realization caused you to forget the reason why you woke him up at the first place as he glanced at you, waiting for you. "hi baby," you pecked his lips once, twice and again not being able to resist his cute swollen face. "i was . . just missing you." you confessed, you did not lie about that.

you had been missing vernon since he had piled up assignments and refused to do it in your dorm as it will be less doing assignment and more doing each other, and he could not afford to retake courses if he does want to graduate this year.

"you woke me up . . to say you miss me?" he mumbled, pressing open-mouth kisses on your neck trailing down your shoulder. you bit your bottom lip to not choke a moan out for his pleasure. "do you want to go again?" he mumbled against your shoulder, his hand already dancing around your naked back, teasing his fingertips causing you to give a nervous chuckle.

you shook your head, not missing a single beat of that. "i love you but no." you laughed, slightly pushing him off from you, to lay on top of his chest where you heard his heart pacing. you closed your eyes hearing his heartbeat, feeling drowsy suddenly.

"don't go back sleeping after waking me up?" he argued, moving you to the side to spoon you from behind.

"well . . it's kind of your fault, your heartbeat feels safe." you mumbled softly, not opening your eyes.

you felt his body shake, you smiled giving yourself brownie points for making him laugh.

vernon have grown a home in you the moment he asked for your tote bag to rescue a cat from the edge of the balcony in your university. there was mixed love, concern and determination in his face that you had completely fallen in love with.

at that moment, he lightly creeped into your heart but you will not lie on how easy you made those threads in your heart to pull for him.

"vernon . ." you whispered, as you are not facing him, you felt the smooth pace of his heartbeat, he might fallen asleep, you wondered. in your surprise, he hummed softly.

he combed his fingers through your hair, moving it away to kiss your neck again. with each pecks, you felt the intensity of your heart pace back up again, clenching your hand. "you need to stop, i swear." you laughed, jokingly hitting him with your shoulder blades.

"well, you need to stop being attractive at the odd hours of the day." he fought back.

there was those witty remarks, and smile in his tone that gave you a warm feeling.

oh, oh to be in love like this.

"it's a hypothetical question, baby." you started, pulling his hand closer to your chest. vernon settled his leg over your body, enveloping your whole body.

"no, oh my god no, not those questions." he expressed, sighing out loud.

"what do you mean not those type of questions, did someone ask you before?" you narrowed your eyebrows, interrogating the man. vernon chuckled, "do you not know how popular these questions are?"

you shook your head. "do you know what i am about to ask you?"

he nodded, "of course i know."

you aggressively turned around, taking full offense on how simple and predictable he thought you were.

"no, you don't." you smiled sarcastically.

he returned the same grin back, raising his eyebrows "oh yes, i do."

"you are about to ask if i will still love you if you were a w-" he confessed only for you to cup his mouth to shut him up.

"wrong." you winked.

he was right, but you will not let him win.

"was i?" he mocked you, his words inaudible with your palm, his eyes danced around your face till it fell on your lips before kissing your palm.

"vernon, what the fuck." you screamed.

before you started fighting back, he pinned you down on the bed, caging you underneath him. there was a glimpse of mischievousness in his eyes and the cocky grin.

"oh god," you giggled, "i said no bestie."

within that, vernon attacked you with kisses pressed against your cheek, neck as it trailed down your naked cleavage.

you only throw fits of giggle along the way on how each breath of his hit your skin.

you are so, so in love with the man in your arms.

[gyuslcve]

10:48pm

genre: fluff, domestic bc i’m a sucker for that

rq: not a request

word count:

reblogs, comments and feedback are appreciated !

notes: I AM SO SO SORRY FOR GOING AWOL YALL. been caught up with school but i finally have some time off now. this was kind of (pretty much) self indulgent but enjoy :)

taglist (dm me to join!) : @icyminghao @haowrld @etherealyoungk

vernon can’t cook. if there’s anything you need to know about him, he can’t cook. despite this, you find yourself waking up to a familiar scent flowing through the house.

wincing slightly at the headache, you removed the blanket- wait, blanket? oh, pillows too. didn’t you fall asleep on the couch? confused, you get up from the bed and padded to the living room, only to see vernon wearing an apron that was visibly too small for him, cooking at the countertop of the kitchen.

smiling, you walk up behind him and wrapped your arms around him. he jumps a little. oops.

“baby?”

“hey nonie.”

your boyfriend chuckles lightly at the nickname, lowering the heat and turns around to face you. “i told you not to call me that.” he says jokingly, eyes softening as he takes in the tiredness written all over you. vernon tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, and as if it was done instinctively, places a soft kiss on your temple, then your forehead.

“what are you doing? you can’t even cook ramyeon.” you say, peering behind him, trying to find out what he was making. it looked exactly like what your mother cooked for you whenever you fell ill. how-

“you said you left work early ‘cause you felt sick. i remember you told me about this beef soup your mother makes for you, so i called her and asked her for the recipe.” vernon shrugs, like he wasn’t the same person that was shaking when he first met your mother.

oh god. you’re gonna marry this man. you’ve decided.

“oh.. thank you.” he hums, turning around and stirs a bit more. “i’m almost done, gimme a minute and i’ll pour you a bowl ‘kay? rest for now, please.” vernon briefly turns his head around and presses another kiss on your forehead, smiling at you.

as you find your seat on the couch, you watch your boyfriend who has a wooden spatula in his hand, stirring every once in a while. you really thought you would never ever see him cook in this lifetime but - not anymore.

“vernon, you really cooked that up?” you say in awe, slowly taking in the fact that he was in the kitchen and somehow did not make any mess, and even something edible. vernon laughs, “yes, i did.” you squint at him questioningly.

“okay, fine, fine. your mother did assist me through the phone.”

author’s notes: work’s been keeping me busy but i really needed to write this bc this has been in my mind for a bit too long <3

[casuallyimagining]

What We Have Now

vernon x reader

summary: vernon's world has ended. in more ways than one. genre: angst with a happy ending word count: 1,675 warnings: explosions, gun fire, the end of the world notes: inspo taken from 'ima - even if the world ends tomorrow'

this is my first svt fic! I hope you enjoy!

Everything is in chaos. The sirens had started around 2am, and they haven’t stopped, a loud, piercing wail that gets drowned out only once in a while by the explosions that echo off the surrounding mountains. There’s a car on fire in the street, and even though everyone’s running, they avoid it, the smell of gasoline and smoke too strong. There are men in heavy, reflective uniforms trying to quell the chaos even slightly gesturing with those light sticks that he’d only ever seen at the airport, but the explosions and the sharp rat-tat-tat of gunfire in the distance makes it difficult, and the crowds ignore the men and their lights and run.

Vernon’s no exception, moving as quickly as he dares without getting separated. He’s got a vice-grip on your hand, not willing to let you get away from him for even a second. He’s still in his pajamas–when the sirens had started, he’d been in a dead sleep, arms wrapped tightly around you–and you’d really only had the chance to slip on jackets and shoes before your building’s security was pounding on the door and urging you to evacuate.

He’s a little grateful for your hand, if he’s honest. It grounds him, keeps him from panicking, gives him something to focus on other than the world crashing down around you.

He takes a second to look over at you when the crowd gets thicker. The running is over, thank god, but everything has become so much more dense as the streets converge and everyone who is evacuating from this part of the city gathers in one area. It’s hard to tell that, just 20 minutes ago, you were sound asleep. Your eyes are wide, alert, observing your surroundings, checking for opportunities to thread your way forward through the crowd. It’s strange, but even now, he thinks you’re beautiful. There’s a calmness to your urgency, pushing yourself up onto your toes to try to see around the man in front of you., self-preservation–for you and for him–taking over.

The shelter is close. Just a couple more blocks, and then you’ll be there, safe, and Vernon can finally relax. There’s a sickening tension that permeates the air. Everyone is scared, no one knows what’s going on, not really. Sure, they’d been warning about this for a few months now, but warnings and drills don’t fully prepare you for the sheer terror that comes with the end of the world. 

You catch his eye, squeezing his hand in a way that provides some comfort in all the chaos, and you nod toward an opening in the people that’s just off to his left. You don’t dare say anything lest anyone else get the same idea, but Vernon nods and together, you make your move. 

A flash of light pulls your attention, the explosion much closer this time, before an ear-splitting boom rattles the ground beneath his feet. It’s loud enough that he can feel it in his teeth, and his ears immediately begin to ring. Around him, the crowd startles into action, and someone bumps into him, hard, hard enough to force him forward into the man in front of him that you’d been trying so hard to maneuver around. And suddenly, his tether to you is broken.

Immediately, Vernon freezes in place and holds his ground as people push and shove and try to move around him. He can see you, mere feet away, but the more the crowd moves, the further you get. He fights to get to you, every step a battle against the tides, but he does manage to get a few steps in.

Where’d you go?

He’d looked down only briefly–a glance, at most–to see what he was stepping on and to make sure it wasn’t someone that had fallen, but that’s all it took. You’re gone, completely, entirely gone. And Vernon’s world grinds to a halt. Frantically, he searches. Maybe you’d been swept forward with the crowd? Maybe back? No, there’s no trace of you. You hadn’t fallen, had you? It would be so easy to be trampled in a situation like this. 

He tries to move forward, tries to get to where you were to check. Maybe he can help you. But someone grabs his arm, hard. Vernon turns, tries to shake off the hand that’s clutching his bicep.

“But my-” He tries to tell the man–one of the ones in uniform, directing people where to go–that you’re missing, that he needs to find you before something terrible happens.

“Everyone’s going to the same place, son,” the man says. And there’s a hint of sympathy in his voice that Vernon hates the implications of.

Firmly, the man guides Vernon back in the direction of the shelter. He watches the spot he’d last seen you until he absolutely can’t anymore, and even then, he scans the crowd for a hint of you, a glimpse of your hair, anything.

Somehow, in the blocks between where he lost you and the door to the shelter, he manages to convince himself that you’ll be there waiting for him. And when you aren’t immediately findable inside, he tells himself that you’ll find him again soon enough. As the explosions continue into the morning, as the sounds of planes overhead intensify and the gunfire gets louder and closer, he’s barely holding it together, but he holds out hope that you’ll straggle in, straight into his arms.

Weeks pass. The fighting moves away from the city, but not far enough that they close the shelters. The immediate danger is gone, but the threat remains. And still, Vernon searches. Your apartment had been destroyed in the first few days, but even that’s at the back of his mind. He just wants to find you, to know you’re safe. 

With the apartment gone, the shelter becomes his base of operations. He’s become an early riser, leaving with the workers trying to clean up the city. He has a different mission, though. First stop is always the shelter downtown. The city officials who work there love to gossip, and they know more about where unofficial shelters have popped up than anyone. Then, he makes the rounds over to the west side, then south to that shelter to check what some of the residents have been calling the Classifieds–posters hanging up on the shelter wall describing missing persons (and anyone who was discovered in the rubble, but Vernon tries not to think about that). By mid-day, he’s made his way back downtown to the park. It’s nice, what they’ve created there, despite everything. A few of the celebrity chefs in the city have taken over a park downtown, and they and their staff cook for everyone they can. It’s become a sort of unofficial shelter, with new tents springing up almost daily and a whole wall filled with post-its and posters taped up by other searchers, looking for family, friends, lovers.

Today, whatever the chefs are cooking smells delicious, but he doesn’t get in line. He almost never does. He’s just here for the notes. At this point, there really aren’t many new ones. The wall is outside, and it’s been exposed to the weather, so many of the colors are fading, the ink starting to run. He’s convinced that he’s read them all, but he checks them anyway. He wants to make sure he’s seen them all. It’s been thundering all day, and he knows that any moment, the sky could open up.

That’s when he spots it, the scrap of paper peeking out from under a bright pink note. The paper is plain, written in thin pen. Based on the way its edges have curled and the ink has ran, it’s been here a while, maybe even the whole time. But gosh, if he squints, he can maybe see how the first smudged block of characters looks like his name.

Carefully, reverently, he pulls it from the wall. It’s hard to read, but he makes out just enough. It’s been weeks since he’s had this much hope, and he doesn’t want to squander it. The note is old, he isn’t sure how old, but it’s old enough for him to know that there’s a chance he’s too late. But that just makes him move faster.

The rain starts just after he leaves the park, and by the time he makes it to the little camp by the river, he’s soaked. The rain is cold, and there’s a wind that makes it worse, but he ducks his head and trudges forward. He approaches the first person he sees, an older man huddling under an awning on one of the tents. 

“Sir?” he starts softly, and it startles the man. Immediately, he apologizes, bowing deeply for the intrusion. “Have you seen-?”

But he doesn’t get any further. There’s a soft gasp off to his left, something that sounds a lot like his name, and though he’s scared–fucking terrified–to look, he turns. Vernon’s world grinds to a halt. It’s no longer raining. All of the bullshit, everything from the past few weeks, it’s all gone. Because like some miracle, or some cheesy movie, you’re there. Right there. And then he blinks, and you’re crashing into him, and it’s all he can do to stay standing as he holds you.

“I’ve been looking everywhere,” you say. And maybe there’s a hint of playful scolding in your voice, but it’s drowned out by relief. He’ll ask later about what you mean, about where you’ve been, about what happened. But for now, you press yourself against him, face buried in his neck, and mumble, “You’re drenched.” But you make no effort to move, just hold him a little tighter.

Vernon has no idea how long he stands there, holding you like his life depends on it. Eventually, though, you offer a soft, “Did you hear about the apartment?”

He hums. It’s a shame. But honestly? He doesn’t care. He’d lose it all. As long as he doesn’t lose you again. He’d endure it all.

what do we think? I hope you liked it! this is my first fic for svt and vernon, and tbh I'm a little nervous! let me know your thoughts, I'm so curious to hear 💙

[studioeisa]

still keeping up with you 🎤 vernon x reader.

he knows you’re not doing well with the distance, knows you’d rather have all of him or none of him than whatever this is. ⸻ ikaw mula noon anniversary series 🎵 sabay, never the strangers

word count: 1.6k · includes: angst, hurt/comfort, they are on a break!!!, actually so very sad and tender. owch

The weekend starts like a poorly worded Reddit post. 

You know the type. The ones where there’s an obvious answer to the question being posed. The situations that have you sighing in exasperation, because you cannot fathom how somebody could ever get themselves into a bind like this. 

AITA for still taking my ex-boyfriend to my sister’s wedding because I didn’t want to go back on our RSVP? 

Vernon doesn’t like that—the term ‘ex-boyfriend’. Time and time again, he’s reminded you that it’s not a breakup. It’s a break. A cool off with a looming deadline, one where the two of you are supposed to reconvene and figure out if this is still something you want to figure out. Like a fucking merger. 

He can call it whatever he wants, but it doesn’t take away the fact that his side of the bed feels colder with his absence, that the yoghurt you got him is well past its expiration date, that you find yourself waiting for him to come up in conversation just so you could say something. 

Not anything bad, not any sort of passage of blame. God, no. You just want to be able to say something like That’s Vernon’s favorite or Vernon said something like that once. A thinly veiled reminder that you still know him, even if he no longer sends you dozens of TikToks in the middle of the night. 

You still know Vernon. You know he’ll forget his antihistamines even though the wedding reception is a warzone for his allergies. You know he’ll ask for a mint at some point in the day, probably halfway through the mass. And so you bring your pocket First-Aid Kit, and you keep the tin of Mentos in your purse, because to love someone is to anticipate, to preempt, to know.

“I told you to bring a sweater.” 

Vernon’s dry voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You shoot him a heatless glare, pulling his suit jacket a little tighter around your shoulders. The reception is in full swing—tuxedoed children hurtling in between the tables, tipsy aunties trading secrets behind cupped hands, fairy lights acting as dupes against the starless sky. 

“And I told you,” you shoot back, “that it doesn’t fit in my purse.” 

Vernon shifts in the seat beside you. He has a wry sort of smile on his face, because this is precisely the kind of petty argument you’ve had time and time again. It often ends with Vernon swaddling you in whatever hoodie he’d worn for the express purpose of loaning it to you later on. 

“You’re going to freeze to death one of these days,” he jabs. 

You want to say, Not when you’re around, but you bite the words back in favor of burrowing a little more into his coat. He doesn’t press, doesn’t comment on the flicker of an expression that passes over your face. Vernon had always been a better person than you when it came to things like this. 

The reception unspools around the two of you like a film reel. Everything had been picture perfect today. The ceremony. The speeches. Your sister’s first dance with her now-husband.

Vernon played his part well. You hadn’t told your family yet that you were on a break. Hell, you thought this winter period would be over before the wedding. Vernon didn’t fault you when you had to sheepishly admit the truth to him. Just raised an eyebrow and asked if you knew where he could rent a suit.

He did everything expected of him. Kept a hand at the small of your back throughout the night. Smiled politely while fielding questions about marriage plans. Called you ‘babe’, looked at you like he still loved you. 

He still loves you. He does. 

That’s what he said, anyway, when he brought this whole arrangement up. He just—needed some time apart, needed space to breathe. To be. 

Vernon nudges your side with his elbow. “I can hear you thinking,” he teases, though not unkindly. 

Your lips purse in a tight smile. “What’s on my mind, then?” 

He looks at you like he knows. Of course he knows. He knows you’re not doing well with the distance, knows you’d rather have all of him or none of him than whatever this is. 

He spares you, though, and instead says, “You’re thinking about getting McDonald’s after this.” 

A weak laugh escapes you. “A single black coffee,” you say. 

“And absolutely nothing else,” Vernon adds. It’s an inside joke, one that needs no explanation. 

You’re forgiven for not wanting to divulge to the rest of us. Some things are too intimate to be shared, to be said out loud and made real. 

Like how a piano rendition of that song strikes up. You know the one. The track that reminds you of endless roads, of Friday evenings and Sunday mornings. It fills the spaces of your drives and reminds you of what it means to be alive. 

You sit up a little straighter. Vernon notices. 

“Your favorite,” he hums. 

“Favorite is debatable.” Your response is more technical than anything. You don’t want to definitively call anything your favorite, not when there’s a whole world of choices for you to still make someday. You haven’t gotten to know all of the things that you could love yet. 

Vernon rolls his eyes. And maybe it’s that. Maybe it’s that moment of something so familiar, so fond, that gives you just the right amount of courage to ask, “Dance with me?” 

A beat. One that sits low, twists a bit, has damage in it. 

The affection on Vernon’s face has crumpled into something closer to pity. You hate it. You want to hate him. He says your name all careful and quiet like, fracturing your heart that’s already cracked in all the places that matters. 

“Nevermind,” you say. Too fast. Like you’re trying to get the words out before you can sob. “That was stupid. We—it’s not like we dance, anyway.” 

Not in public, at least. The two of you waltz in kitchens during midnight, shimmy down empty grocery aisles, hold mini-concerts in shared showers. You’re both terrible at it, but at least you were terrible together. Now, you can’t even have that. Instead—

“Okay.” 

Vernon’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s firm. Unwavering. The pity on his expression is gone, replaced by the certainty of a man who believes in certain truths. 

You open your mouth to protest, to deny him of giving you this consolation prize. But the reality is that you’ll take what you can get. You take his hand as he holds it out to you. You double back to leave his suit jacket on the back of your chair. You wobble a bit as your heels hit the ground, and Vernon holds you steady. 

Nobody bats an eye when you and Vernon hit the dance floor. Some of the other guests make room, even, shooting the two of you looks full of goodwill and well wishes. You can imagine what they’re thinking, what they’re wanting. For the next wedding to be yours. 

You bury the thought behind the feeling of Vernon resting his hands at your waist. You wind your own arms around his shoulders, taking the excuse to press against him in the way that you’ve missed. You haven’t held him like this in what feels like weeks, and it’s a touch so comforting you think you could sob. 

“Think you can keep up?” he jokes. 

Despite yourself, you smile. “You know I will.” 

You don’t. 

You try. But you’ve got no sense of rhythm, and Vernon is twice as bad. You step over each other’s feet. He steers you into another couple; you lean a little too close and bump foreheads. The entire while, you try not to giggle, but when you hear the pffft of his own restrained laughter, you let the joy break from the back of your throat. 

It crawls out, spills into the space between you, lightens the weight on both your shoulders. You aren’t somebody who declares favorites, but this—this has to be your favorite part of the night. 

You keep flailing even when the song changes into one you don’t know. Even when it slows into something treacherous, something that demands heart. Your sister and her husband join the crowd of dancers; she throws you a wink, and you force yourself to smile as your hands tighten at the back of Vernon’s shirt. 

“Do you want to sit back down?” he asks delicately. 

No, you want to say. I want to dance with you forever. I’ll let you step on my toes and I’ll snap my ankles a thousand times over if it means having you here, with me. 

Instead of saying all that, you throw the question back. “Do you?” 

Vernon doesn’t miss a beat. “No,” he says, hands sliding down to your hips. “I like it here.” 

Plain and simple. I like it here. Here, being this wedding. Here, being your arms. Here, being with you. 

Here, as he pulls you to his chest and presses his lips to the top of your head, like he never left at all. 

Vernon has never lied to you. And so you want to believe him. You have to believe him when he tells you this break is not something final. Not a period that ends things.

A comma, maybe,

for a story that will go on, and on, and on—

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ⸻ i doubt i’m going to do this for all of the songs/fics, but this is one of my all-time favorite songs (for my very first svt bias), so i wanted to provide a translation for sabay. enjoy. ‹𝟹

I need some time To breathe In case I don’t reach you And you’re gone before I get there

Even if our feet fall differently I’ll still keep up with you

Dizzy from all this spinning With no one to lean on You’re the one who can stop This body of mine 

Even if our steps don’t match I’ll still keep up with you 

It doesn’t matter if we trip or go sideways I’ll still keep up with you 

It’s hard to stay above water When the current sweeps you up I can’t forget Can’t get away from you From you 

[coupsalchemy]

Butterflies

prompt: Butterflies

summary: Hansol goes on a date with his daughter.

tags: pure fluff, dad!Hansol

word count: 769

Hansol holds his waist watching his one year old daughter making grabby hands at him. His heart wavers, fingers working on unbuckling her from the car seat. He sucks his teeth, “you have me wrapped by your pinkie, troublemaker,” he flicks her button nose eliciting a giggle, “aww.” He boops his nose with her, her baby giggles fills his heart. 

“You could ask for my life and I will give it to you, you know.” He picks her up, holding her to his chest, nuzzling his nose in her chest, inhaling her sweet baby scent. “And you will never move out of my sight.” He closes the car door, hiking up her necessities bag on the other side. “No late nights, no night outs, and no moving out.” 

She sucks on her forefinger finger, watching his lips move and attentively listening to his words, her pigtails bouncing with each step he takes. He walks into the park along with other parents with their kids and pets. The sun is shining perfectly with tolerable heat, and the spring breeze helps a little with the heat. His daughter pokes his nose with fascination, obscuring his vision, closing in his face, blinking eye to eye with him. Hansol stumbles on a small rock, his heart hammering in the throat imagining what if the worst scenario happened. 

“You,” he chides, huffing, readjusting the heavy necessities bag. “If something happened your mom won’t allow our dates,” he stares down at the one year old playing with his shirt buttons, not a bother in the world. He sighs, “I wish I was your age too,” he walks towards the crowded playground, two toddlers rushes past him, crashing in, stumbling him again. “Woah, woah, woah.”

Hansol backs away from the scary kids, holding his daughter by her head to his body protectively. “Scary kids,” he clicks his tongue, resuming his journey to find a calm, quiet place for their father-daughter date. Especially away from the bulldozing boys. If they cause even a little scar on his daughter, he can’t guarantee to be a sane understanding fellow parent. 

He finds an empty spot below a tree, and only another father with his daughter is having a picnic. The smell of cakes and chocolate waters his mouth, his daughter, as the saying goes, like father like daughter, searches around for the cause of the delicious smell. He chuckles, kissing her cheek. “Alright, troublemaker,” she looks at him, hearing her nickname, “I am gonna set you down,” he motions his hand to the grass, “so I can lay out the blanket. Don’t run away, please,” he begs.  

She tilts her head blubbering. Hansol sets his bag down, “we have a deal, okay?” 

The moment her feet touch the grass, and he sets the fallen bag upright and turns around the space next to his legs is empty. “Fuck,” he swears, watching his girl running behind a flying butterfly accompanied by the girl he saw eating cake. “Troublemaker!” He runs behind her, trying his best to catch up with her. “Should stop feeding..” he pants, “..you healthy food. You are too fast. Troublemaker!” His heart lurches to his mouth watching her fall to her knees. Tears spring up in his eyes, he reaches her in a second and cradles her to his heart. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he sniffles, resting his cheek against her head, “I’m sorry.” 

She blinks at his teary eyes, and pushes his chest wanting to get down. He hears a chuckle next to him, the other father joined him watching his daughter go around. “First time parent?” 

Hansol nods. 

“Explains.” He bends to his daughter’s height and boops her nose. “You have a cute daughter.” 

Hansol grins, “I know.”

The stranger laughs, throwing his head back. Hansol lets his restless daughter go with apprehension. She tags along with the other kid chasing butterflies. 

“Yoon Jeonghan,” the stranger introduces himself, extending his hand. 

“Chwe Hansol.”

Hansol’s phone vibrates in his back pocket, “one minute.” He plucks out the phone, caller reading, darling. He accepts in a heartbeat, “hey.”

“I forgot to mention that she runs away in the blink of an eye. You have to hold her hand all the time, especially in crowded places.” His wife reads out the instructions as he chuckles. 

“It's a little late for the warning,” he replies, “she is too fast for a kid.” His daughter laughs at the funny tricks of the other girl, and tries to copy. “And has way too much energy.” 

His wife laughs from the other side, and he joins her laughing at his daughter’s antics. 

[sluttyminghao]

for the 8k celebrations

Vernon x spanking?? I mean he def loves asses, oh how I wish to be seungkwan

i feel like vernon loves the buildup of spanking. the slow movements of you laying over his thighs, ass sticking up in the air as high as you can manage while you wiggle it in a teasing manner to rile him up.

he loves seeing you expose the flesh of your ass to him, tossing your panties just next to him and letting him see every dimple, crevice and curve of your lower body. it makes his cock twitch in his sweats, but he fights it off temporarily knowing that this is about you.

his favourite part is when he gets to run his hand over your ass, feeling the texture and curves of the flesh, before he raises his hand and brings it down quickly, the crack of skin-on-skin contact echoing through the room.

and your moans...god they are music to his ears. he has to stop his erection from poking you repeatedly while you moan and whimper under his touch. with every smack, your flesh turns red and you're certain it will bruise to some degree, but his hands feel so good you can't complain.

it would feel even better for him to be spanking you if he had his rings on, the cool metal rippling against the skin as he raises and lowers his hand quickly.

[rubyreduji]

https://twitter.com/intimatespaces/status/1687429195033432064?s=20

vernon and this 🫣 for the sleepover?

— join the sleepover!! 🧸️

teehee-ing as we speak (thank you for the submission)

[minors dni] [cw. fingering, spanking, bonadge, dom!vernon] [nsfw link]

the echo of vernon's hand landing another blow against your ass reverberates throughout the room, quickly followed by your whimper. your skin stings and you're sure that it's beet red from the repeated smacks.

your face buried further into the pillow as you cry out. you can't do much else, with your hands secured behind your back by your boyfriend's belt. your cunt is aching, begging for to be filled.

"fuck baby, you look so pretty like this," vernon coos. his hands push your cheeks apart, revealing your slick pussy to your boyfriend. you can feel his leaking tip poking your thigh, his cock rock hard.

you whine as vernon drags a finger across your slit, spreading your slick across your folds. he dips finger into your pussy, curling it into you twice, before pulling it back out again.

"so desperate," he murmurs, more to himself than you.

his hand spanks you again, on your right cheek. immediately after his hand squeezes the fat, massaging your ass to relieve some of the pain. his finger continue to knead at your ass, pulling the cheeks apart and stretching your pussy lips.

"you want my fingers now baby?" you nod frantically. "have you earned it though? i mean, you're ass isn't even that red yet."

you hate your boyfriend's teasing. you hate him and his large hands and his sexy voice and-

"but you have been so good for me. so i should reward you, right?"

without really waiting for you input you feel vernon slip two fingers inside of you. you gasp as he starts to move them inside of you rapidly, his hand pressing into your ass cheeks, making it jiggle with each thrust. your can hear the slick sounds of your pussy as vernon speeds up his pace, his fingers rapidly fucking into your pussy. they curl into you, jamming against your g-spot.

"n-nonie!" you cry out. "f-fuck."

"that's it baby, taking my fingers so well. your cute little cunt sucking them in. you want to cum baby?"

"yes, yes, please!"

"should i let you though?" vernon's fingers continue to push into you, completely seperate from his words. "don't you think you deserve a few more spanks?" vernon's free hand kneads at your ass, preparing to land another smack.

"please, whatever to let me cum!" you beg and vernon chuckles.

"needy little thing. whatever you say baby." his left hand lifts and smacks you once, twice, thrice more before rubbing the stinging skin. "so fucking good. okay baby, you can cum now." his fingers double their efforts, rubbing up against your walls. with a final moan your cunt clenches down on vernon's fingers, spasming as you cum. vernon coos at you as you shake on the bed, letting out small whimpers.

when you finish you slump against the bed and vernon pulls his fingers out of you before undoing your restraints. he grabs a tissue and cleans off you and his hand before leaning down to press a kiss to your head.

"thank you for indulging me baby," he mumurs and you huff a bit. it's not like you didn't get anything out of it, but this just means it's now vernon's turn to indulge in you.

[rinsuniverse]

[3:55]

dating vernon is really like dating ur bsf

he'd definitely treat you like a bro

but we all know how he doesn't take super good care of himself and how he eats (according to the8)

so ofc his s/o would take care of him

i imagine he'd come home from schedules, and you'd already have a dinner ready for him

whether it be something you cooked or something you bought and took out

and he'd be so happy

like that video of him and woozi being roommates one time

and he was like, "oh my god~ hyung prepared dinner for me!"

yeah, that'd be him, no matter how many times you do that for him

"is this for me?"

"yeah, i bought/cooked it just for you."

"wow, thanks, babe!"

and he'd want to sit on the couch with you and watch something as he eats

he'd put on something funny

and every time he'd laugh, he'd smack your thigh or lean on you a bit with his head on your shoulder

(like how he does with svt)

other honorable mentions i'd have picturing hansol as your bf would include:

calling you his cat's mom

always having his arm around your shoulders if you're watching a movie together

sharing his clothes (esp his hats and jackets) / he'd love styling you in his fashion sense

he'd love listening to you whenever you have to vent or need advice

if you get insecure about your looks, he'd reassure you and then remind you that your heart and personality are to die for and that's the main reason why he loves you anyway

sharing airpods/earbuds whenever listening to music (he'd def send you lots of music or make you playlists; i see him sending you daily checkins with a song that he's currently listening to or makes him think of you)

playing videogames together (bonus: him sitting with his legs apart and you sitting between them, resting your head and back against his chest, his arms around your body to play using his controller)

lots of comfortable silence (he values your company)

he'd be your #1 hype man (type to watch you do literally anything with a big smile on his face and big heart eyes)

and he'd def call you "babe" or another super casual pet name cuz i feel like that's such his vibe

[pdri8]

my, what pretty eyes you have.

vernon has the prettiest eyes, those types where you could get lost into and find no way out, however it looked the prettiest when he stared at you.

the sun painted itself lavender, pitching with pink clouds hovering as the colour reflected through the white satin curtain.

"you've got such pretty eyelashes, baby." you cupped his cheek softly whispering, also caressing his eyelashes in fascination. he smiled, that smile making his eyes disappear. it only swelled your heart, vernon is it for you, there simply was no other way to conclude on how your heart bled with his eyes shimmering brightly as he glanced up to you, his hands clearly wanting to hold you tight onto your waist.

there was hesitation in his moves, and his eyes that you have been growing to love a lot.

to assure him, you grabbed his hand that was still on the sofa to wrap around your waist. "i am allowing this only to you." you laughed lightly, he blinked frantically, as if error occurred in his mind.

before vernon could say anything, you pressed your lips against his. you felt his eyes shut, his eyelashes brushed yours. his hands moved onto your cheek, pushed himself forward, breathing deeply into the kiss.

your heart lit on fire, kept burning as he unexpectedly moaned onto the kiss. you grinded onto his lap again and again to feel the heat that has been pooling between your thighs.

vernon broke the kiss, you whined at the loss of contact from his lips. your eyes driven in lust, pulling him by the nape of his neck back to your lips.

he had one hand on your waist and another on your cheek. "i want you to keep kissing me. kiss me more. ." you mumbled, kissing his cheek, his jawline, his neck.

"i want you so bad, vernon."