Seokmin Is Here.

“seokmin is here.”

two years ago, that sentence would have sent butterflies careening through your stomach. a smile threatening to break out, a quick glimpse stolen from the corner of your eye, a small golden ball of hope — perfectly warm and spherical — settling in your chest.

now, it only brings dread, a tangle of it trapped under your ribcage.

two years ago, seokmin was the boy you’d fallen head over heels for. one year ago, he was the boyfriend you were still head over heels for. one month ago, he became the ex-boyfriend, and you weren’t really sure if you were head over heels or not anymore.

right person, wrong time? or maybe that was a feeble excuse you conjured to settle the dregs of regret. either way: graduation was creeping up — your post-university paths couldn’t be more different — he was moving, you were staying — nothing was aligned.

so now: one month after the breakup. your favourite café, a concerned best friend in front of you, and your ex-boyfriend in the queue for a coffee. (iced vanilla latte, whipped cream, pain au chocolat.)

“you can go,” you say, after a long moment, to your friend. chan had been about to leave anyway, an appointment he couldn’t miss — you’d intended to stay and get some studying done. and when chan is gone, after much persuasion, you take one more look at the back of seokmin’s head and decide that actually, you can’t.

everything is shoved haphazardly into your bag, wires tangled and keys jangling, but your only aim is to get out of there. before you do something stupid.

you have, however, forgotten to factor in one major problem: it’s raining.

you don’t have an umbrella — you don’t even have a jacket, because it was hot as hell when you set out earlier in the day, and suddenly now, at the most inconvenient possible time, the heavens have decided to open and pour out their misery. so you stand outside the door for a minute, eyeing the rain, shivering a little, wondering if it would be stupid to just make a dash for it, or if maybe you can call chan back, or maybe —

“i have an umbrella.”

you don’t need to turn to recognise that voice, but you do anyway, and your eyes fall on lee seokmin. half-uncertain, half-sheepish, he meets your eyes with a small smile and a black umbrella he holds out over your head.

“thanks,” you manage finally, voice so quiet he has to strain to hear it over the pattering of raindrops. but his eyes have moved past you, over your shoulder, up.

“look,” he says softly. “a rainbow.”

you turn, and it’s there; one of the clearest you’ve seen. something catches in your throat — you swallow it down — and instead, you stand there. silence, side by side with the boy who will have a piece of your heart forever.

(are those raindrops on your cheeks, or tears?)

your hand brushes against his, one last time, and the rain stops. you step out from under his umbrella. one last look at him. this is how he stays in your memories: soft eyes and bright smile, stood under a smudged pink sky.

an / every time i proofread something i wrote i want to curl up into a ball and never write again. so it’s not proofread. also if someone could take the italics button away from me, that would be appreciated.

requested by @hannyoontify for my 1k event! hope u like it kie❣️sending all the hugs in the world. song prompt: rain by sekai no owari

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do you ever get friendlust. like. you just see someone and you’re like. man. i have such a friendcrush on you. i wanna be ur friend so bad. i wanna be more than a friend. i wanna be a BEST friend u hear me. ur so cool. i admire u a lot and ur so funny. plz b my bffl. i will treat u right. let me be ur drake-friend. no other friend will treat u like i would

“have you ever been in love?”

vernon’s question comes straight out of the blue. there’s a movie playing on the tv, but you’re just now realising that he hasn’t been following along at all — he’s been looking at you.

“in love?” you repeat, and you don’t answer the question. on purpose, because this — whatever hangs between you two — is still relatively new. “why?”

he shrugs. “just ‘cause. i think i’m in love with you.”

you freeze; eyes flit to him, where he reclines casually on the sofa, brown hair falling over his eyes, features soft and golden in the dim light. the lightbulb needs changing, you register distantly. he said he loves me.

“oh,” you manage finally, and there’s something large and warm and bright swelling in your chest. something warm and wet pricking at your eyes too, but nothing can take away from this feeling. this moment is yours, forever. “oh.”

vernon’s eyes flit between the screen and the ground, before landing on you. (the colour brown has never looked so beautiful.) “you don’t have to say anything.” his voice is quiet, floating between the two of you. “i just — i wanted you to know.”

it only takes you four simple words to get him to smile again: shy, bright, dazzling, even. almost timid, with the way his cheeks colour — but you get it. it’s new territory, this l word.

but for once, you’re not scared. that might come later; you’ll be surprised if it doesn’t. for now, though, all you feel is golden.

an / this vernon brainrot won’t go away. he’s always there. in my brain.

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just thinking about Vernon fingering y/n with his cold metal rings 😵

member | vernon x fem reader word count | 900 warnings | fingering (with rings), temperature play, edging kinda, vernon is very much taking his time and enjoying this notes | vernonrot bad today wowie 😓 also idk why my brain decided this was gonna be blondenon skjdgfhs but i'm not complaining. tagging @aceofvernons hehe enjoy beloved :)

“fuck, nonnie, that’s cold!” you gasp, squirming under your boyfriend’s touch. 

vernon just grins in response. his hands roam your body, your skin erupting with goosebumps everywhere that the ice-cold metal of his rings touches. he drags his fingers up to your breasts, drawing circles around your nipples with his rings as you whine out his name, your nipples hardening from the sudden chill.

it feels like your skin is on fire; the only relief is the cool touches of his fingertips ghosting over your body.

his hand skims over your stomach and instinctively you arch your back, pushing into him. he leans back on his heels, his hands sliding lower and lower as he leaves a trail of soft, light kisses down your chest. 

finally his hands come to a stop at your hips as he holds onto you tighter, moving you into the position he wants you. his rings dig into your skin, but the feeling of the cold metal pressing into you sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine.

you can’t help but whine in impatience when he lets go of you, returning to tracing his fingers over your thighs, so gentle you can almost barely feel it, if it weren’t for how cold his hands are.

“vernon, please,” you groan, pleading for more.

he doesn’t reply, but he obliges you, fingertips dragging closer and closer to the burning heat between your legs where you so desperately need him.

he plants one hand firmly on your thigh, holding you open as his other hand begins to trace large circles around your pussy, not touching you just yet: so close, but still so far.

you shudder, spreading your legs even wider, trying to encourage him to do what you want.

but he won’t give in just yet.

“what is it you want, baby?” he asks, voice gravelly as he stares down at you, his normally soft brown eyes now darkened with lust.

you throw your head back against the bed. “please, touch me.”

he grins, moving his hands to drag up and down your thighs, his fingernails just barely scratching against the surface of your skin; not enough to hurt, but enough for you to feel.

you moan and his hands move to your inner thighs. you consider reaching down and using your own fingers, but the way he’s so carefully building you up is better than anything you could do to yourself, and you know whatever he decides to do to you afterwards is more than worth the wait.

another garbled cry of “please” and finally, finally vernon puts his hand right up against your cunt. a mixture of sighs of relief and groans of pleasure escape you as his fingers delicately part your folds, the sudden cool air on your hole making you shiver.

he pushes the tip of his index finger into you up to his first knuckle and immediately you clench around him, already so sensitive even without anything substantial yet. slowly he pulls his finger out before pushing it back in, going even deeper in you. soon his entire finger is inside you, your walls spasming around the digit as he leisurely begins to curl his finger.

just when you’re starting to adjust to the feeling of his long, thick fingers inside of you, without warning he slips in a second finger, this one covered in rings.

you bite back a moan as you feel the smooth metal press against your folds, your thighs automatically squeezing shut around his arm. but he easily pries them apart again, pushing his weight on one of your legs to hold you into the bed as his hand begins to speed up, working you open with his skilled fingers.

with each movement of his hand his fingers push deeper into you, until you feel him add a third finger, even more rings now rubbing against your folds. the coolness of the metal is an almost soothing feeling against the heat of your pulsing cunt, and the mixture of sensations has you moaning his name without thinking, already so lost in his touch that you can only manage to babble out a stream of moans and curses.

he tilts his hand upwards, his rings aligning perfectly with your clit so you feel each thrust both inside and out, rubbing at the perfect angle that has you trembling in his grasp.

you feel your orgasm starting to approach, building quickly with each drag of his rings against your nerves. but vernon must feel you getting close, must feel you clenching around him harder than before, because right before the tension in your core is about to snap, his fingers slow down their pace, your orgasm falling away in a matter of seconds. you cry out in frustration at the loss, whining and begging and pleading for him to give you relief, to let you finish what he started and make a mess all over his beautiful hands.

but to your dismay he pulls his fingers out of you completely, holding his hand up for you to see how they’re covered in your juices. his rings are smeared with the clear liquid, glistening in the light, and you moan at the sight, embarrassed but also more turned on than you’ve ever been.

vernon grins, leaning forward to run the tip of his finger along your lips, and your mouth falls open, knowing what he wants before he even says it. 

“now, be good and suck them clean, and then i’ll let you cum.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it lets me know this is something people want to see more of and it helps a ton with being motivated to write. thanks for reading!!

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“imagine,” you declare, with a magnificent sweep of the arm, “if we never met.”

wonwoo furrows his brows at those words. “why,” he begins finally, perplexion creeping into his voice, “would i want to imagine that?”

you shrug. lean over him to reach for the wooden spoon; it’s baking day, if 3 in the morning can be considered day. “i don’t know,” you say distractedly — the tip of your tongue slips out when you concentrate on scooping. “it’s a hypothetical question. what do you think you’d be doing? if we never met, and fell in love?”

there’s a comfortable ease in the way you say love. you know he means it; he knows you mean it.

“right now?” he casts a glance at the clock; he likes to tease you. “probably sleeping.”

you glance up then, features arranged blank and unimpressed. half-pout, half-scowl.

that’s not what gets him, though. what gets him is your eyes; soft. bright. they twinkle a little, or maybe it’s just the kitchen light, but whatever it is, it takes his breath away — just for one short, ephemeral moment. perfect, he thinks, as he looks at you. threadbare t-shirt, brownie mix on your arm, smudge of flour on your nose. and he’ll think it a hundred times more before the cakes are even out the oven.

“i love you.” he says it out loud, those three overworked words that sum up the jumble of images and words and intangible abstract commodities that breeze through his mind when he looks at you. the words feel insufficient sometimes — like now — but it’s the closest he can get.

you laugh, then, throwing a chocolate chip at him. “nerd.” a smile that’s teasing, but gentler at the edges. “i love you too.”

an / none of u understand the full extent of my feelings abt this man. UGHHH.

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unimportant bc i’m ranting

I JUST TALKRD TO HIM FOR A FEW MINUTES AND IM JUST REHEJJXJD I WANNA BE FEIENDS W HIM SO BAD FUCK

…

:(

pls be friends w me ik ur mysterious and everything but pls🙏🙏🙏 u seem so cool and i KNOW we have similar interests and like ik i at least exist to him bc he remembers my major and some classes i’m in but pls pls pls i just rly wanna be friends w u.

i need to seek help

do you ever get friendlust. like. you just see someone and you’re like. man. i have such a friendcrush on you. i wanna be ur friend so bad. i wanna be more than a friend. i wanna be a BEST friend u hear me. ur so cool. i admire u a lot and ur so funny. plz b my bffl. i will treat u right. let me be ur drake-friend. no other friend will treat u like i would