Glowing

glowing

bonus:

giving vernon hickeys as he gives you some of the most beautifully worded compliments inbetween desperate moans in his deep voice🤭

“you’re the most amazing lover i could ever have,” he whispers, groaning when your teeth graze over sensitive skin, “you’re so perfect. I can’t resist what you do to me.”

he hears you giggle, knowing you take great pleasure in make him a wreck. he still can’t help going on and on about how much he loves you, wreck or not.

“i swear, baby,” he rambles, “there’s no one else in this world who could make me feel so good. you’re too good to me.”

you find a new spot, right at the crook of his neck, to place your mark. he wonders for a moment if you’re a vampire with how sharp your teeth feel. he’s just so vulnerable like this. he whimpers softly (and beautifully).

it only turns him on to realize that he is truly at your mercy like this. your hands hold his shoulders down, body caging him on. his hands are tied above his head, and that rope is tied to the bed. he really couldn’t do anything even if he tried.

as if you’ve read his mind, you move to whisper in his ear while he moans at the things you say, “i’m going to keep giving you hickeys until all you can think about is how much you belong to me. and then i’m going to fuck you so good you won’t even be able to think.”

my favourite person | joshua hong

prompt | i'm not a lot of people's favourite person

word count | 1.3k

genre | angst & (mostly) fluff

author's note | ugh i haven't written a longer fic like this in a while, i've missed this

Joshua was that type of person who never wanted to bother you with his own problems. He cherished you and your happiness way too much, so what would be the point in sharing his own worries with you?

He was a big boy, he could take care of himself, no matter how much he wanted to find peace and comfort in your arms.

You knew something was wrong, despite him insisting he was fine. You knew him like the back of your hand and something has been clearly bothering him.

His bright smile was gone and even if he did smile, it didn’t reach his eyes, like it usually did. He didn’t share any funny stories from the practice room, he went to bed without giving you your mandatory good night kiss and you woke up to his side of the bed cold and empty.

“Joshua, you really have to tell me if anything is bothering you,” you said and squeezed his arm. “I’m here for you.”

But the only response you got was a small smile and a “I’m fine darling. Don’t worry about me,” which didn’t make the case any better.

You decided to let it go and wait for him to come around. Especially, because he had a company dinner soon, which you hoped would cheer him up a bit.

Perhaps a talk with Jeonghan or Seungcheol wouldn’t hurt as well.

Leaving with a quiet goodbye and a kiss to your forehead (like he always did before leaving), made you hopeful you were slowly getting your Shua back.

Some of the boys posted a couple of pictures of them together, before the party even began and Joshua was in every single one of them.

He seemed fairly happy, but you knew very well he could have been pretending.

Nonetheless, you decided to put your phone away, there was no point in dwelling on whether he was fine or not.

He wouldn’t be coming back to your apartment tonight anyways, he never did after big parties. He was always afraid that he’d make too much noise and wake you up, so he always went back to his own place after a night of drinking.

Settling down for the night, you unawarely stroked the pillow on your boyfriend’s side, where his head would usually be. He had never told you this, but his heart always skips anytime you run your fingers through his hair, as a warm feeling settles in his tummy.

He was always convinced that love was an emotion that he’d never be able to describe, but the genuine care in your eyes and the happiness in your smile could make him talk about love for hours.

“Fuck.”

You tiredly rubbed your eyes with your (Joshua’s) sweatshirt, trying to pick up where the sounds were coming from, while still being half asleep.

You stumbled out of bed, not so gently running into your dresser, while trying not to freak out over a thief who's probably robbing your apartment right now.

Finally, reaching the kitchen, you exhaled in relief as you saw that it was only your boyfriend, trying to take off his shoes.

But then you realised something. Why was he here? And then you realised something else.

He was definitely not sober.

Seeing your boyfriend drunk was nothing new, but seeing him wasted was something you thought you’d never get to see.

“Honey, are you okay?” you asked, quickly grabbing his hand to get his attention. You couldn't help thinking that something bad had happened, as his eyes were wide and he seemed almost… scared?

Shaking his head, he clumsily grabbed your other hand, putting them on his cheeks.

For a second you thought about calling Jeonghan. You’ve never seen your boyfriend in such a miserable state before and it was scaring you. The light in his eyes was gone and his beautiful face showed nothing but pain.

Nothing about this was good, but the worst was that you still had no idea what had happened.

As you got lost in your own thoughts, you felt something wet hitting your fingertips and that was when you realised Joshua was crying.

“Oh baby,” you whispered, as he collapsed into your arms. His sobs echoed through your quiet apartment, while his shoulder shook with every breath he took.

He held tightly onto you, almost as you were his lifeline - the only thing keeping him alive. Your own heart was breaking with every cry that he let out, the sound shattering any ounce of hope that you had that he’d be all right.

You lowered both of you to the ground, so you could sit in the dark curridor, illuminated only by the moonlight coming through the window.

Taking a shaky inhale, he put his head on your lap, while you gently stroked his head and placed small kisses on his forehead, to let him know that you were there with him.

“I’m not a lot of people’s favourite person.”

The not so comforting silence of your apartment was finally broken by your boyfriend, who seemed to have calmed down, even though he still struggled to take a deep breath.

“What did you say honey?” you said quietly, brushing his hair away from his face.

“I think I’m not a lot of people’s favourite person,” he repeated, slowly pushing himself up to seating.

You looked at his tired expression, wanting nothing more to take all of his burdens away from him.

He was usually very good at avoiding the hate he got online, but from time to time, it could really get to him. It was unavoidable, you both knew that, but sometimes he wanted nothing more but to talk to his fans and have a good time with them.

But because a lot of people want to harm him, his reputation and his feelings, it wasn’t easy to manoeuvre between the good and the bad comments.

It seemed like this time he stumbled upon some really nasty shit.

“Why do you say that? Where did it come from?” you asked rhetorically, voice laced with concern.

He didn’t respond, only put his head on your shoulder, putting all of his weight onto you.

Not wanting to dig deeper, you put your arms tightly around his shoulders, and placed one of your hands on his tear stained cheek.

“You know,” you muttered so as not to startle him. “You might not be a lot of people’s favourite person, but you’re definitely my favourite person,” you kissed the side of his head, as you felt more tears rolling down his cheek.

“I have no idea how you’re feeling right now, nor will I ever get to experience what you’re experiencing, but I want you to know that despite all those horrible people that want to cause nothing more but pain, there are thousands of people who love you and cherish you.”

“Take a look around you. You have me, you have your brothers and you have your true fans that want you to be happy,” you whispered into his hair.

“I think that’s more than enough,” he said quietly, lifting his head to look at you.

His eyes were red, but to you they were the happiest they’ve been in a while. Even the corners of his lips were slightly turned upwards, to which you couldn’t help but smile.

“You cannot make everyone happy, Shua. There are going to be people that’ll want to hurt you, but remember that you’re always surrounded by people that love you,” you said.

He turned away to wipe his wet cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed about his emotional outburst.

Usually, he’d go to his own apartment and cry himself to sleep, but tonight something made him come back home to you.

“Joshua,” you put your hand on his shoulder. “Next time, please talk to me before it gets that bad. I know that you don’t want to burden me with your worries, but I can't stand seeing you like this.”

“I love you so much, and I want us to go through the good and the bad together.”

He nodded and took your hand in his.

“Together.”

LILY HI ITS ME STAR!!! HOW ARE YOU I LOVE U AND WISH U ALL THE BEST MUAH MUAH!! also: perhaps smth a little naughty at 11:36 PM with lab partner!wonwoo 👀👀

tags: college!au, inexperienced!wonwoo x f!reader, nerd!wonwoo, experienced!yn, oral (m!receiving)

[11:36]

wonwoo has never liked chemistry.

the periodic table looks like a colorful placemat and a titration might as well be a long winded recipe for a terrible cocktail. (although the ones at the delta tau delta chemistry themed party were good. they served them in little beakers, and wonwoo thought those were quite cute. that was also the party where he met you.)

speaking of you—unlike chemistry, wonwoo does, however, like you a great deal.

which makes chemistry much more tolerable because you are his lab partner.

on the first day of lab, when they had asked the class to pair up, you walked over to him, and wonwoo almost melted right into the ground.

"you're the only one here i know," you whispered, waiting for him to lean down to your height. he did, and you smelled like cherries. "we talked at the delt party. wonwoo, right?"

"yes, i'm wonwoo," he had said, words tripping and tumbling off of his tongue like he was learning to speak for the first time.

it was no better at the party, except he was drunk and you were drunker, and you had made the grave mistake of asking him what classes he was taking. two mike's hard lemonades and a battery acid vodka shot later, his dumb ass was still talking about emily dickinson, and you, somehow, were standing there in those mile-high heels, listening as if he was the most interesting guy at the party.

i think she's totally into you, mingyu had said, in that loud, spitty cadence he has when he's 90% beer.

don't be ridiculous.

but then you had asked wonwoo to walk you to your dorm, and you took the long way, winding right through campus.

he doesn't dream often, but he thinks the one he had that night was red and smelled like your lip gloss.

now, he thanks god for the miracle that is you in an oversized hoodie and shorts in his room past sundown.

granted, you're there to work on the last lab report of the term, and he had seen you just two nights ago at the kappa party, but wonwoo thinks he likes this version of you best. (that night, you had tried to break in your new heels. he ended up holding onto them, and you ended up holding onto him on the drunken stumble home. whether it was for support or for something else, wonwoo doesn't know, but he wishes he wore something different than the ratty polo from the back of his closet.)

"thanks for all your help," you say, closing your lab notebook. "i don't know how you're so good at all of this."

"i'm not," he laughs. he hands you your pencil case with the sailor moon charm, the one you were so proud to show him when he mentioned he watched anime. "it was all you."

you wave him off and bend down to put your things in your bag.

wonwoo tries his best to avert his eyes. he really does.

it's a valiant effort. there's a book out of order on his shelf (anna karenina, tolstoy). he really should have put that gundam figure away before you came over.

and your ass is perfect, but that doesn't really surprise him because he doesn't think there is a single thing wrong with you.

"you know," you start, still rifling around in your bag. "i heard something real interesting from mingyu the other day."

"hm?"

wonwoo changes the backlight color of his keyboard. it does not make him calmer. instead he feels all the peely leather on his gaming chair poke through his sweats and he tries not to think about the little birthmark you have on the back of your thigh.

"he told me that..." you stand straight and turn to face him. there's a fresh coat of gloss on your lips, like a magic trick. "you have a crush on me."

wonwoo doesn't know what to say. he likes to think before he speaks but now you're walking towards him and thinking isn't really an option anymore.

"right?"

"um."

not good. he didn't think he was that obvious but he's no liar.

"fine, i'll start." you're standing right in front of him now, and he thinks the gulp he takes is audible. "i like you."

he watches your lips form around the words, glittery and confident, and if he wasn't doomed before, he certainly is now.

his near perfect gpa is doing jack shit to help him understand why someone like you, gorgeous and funny and smart and popular, would ever take a second look at the gangly boy in the glasses.

but you are—in fact, you're staring with an intensity that makes him afraid you can actually see right through all the clothes he's got on.

"i—" come on, wonwoo thinks. they're the words he wanted to tell you outside your dorm building three weeks ago when you said you didn't know anyone quite like him. "i like you too. a lot."

"good."

the first thing he learns is that you're forward, and he likes that.

the second thing he learns is that your lip gloss tastes like cherry.

your mouth is hot and soft on his. he thinks he died and went to heaven, and then you're kissing him again, catching his bottom lip between your teeth so he whines into your mouth.

the last time he tried kissing was during senior prom. his date stood on her tiptoes and he accidentally bumped his nose into hers and missed her mouth and the whole thing was a disaster.

and yet now, wonwoo feels like he's melted right into your hands. you lead and his body just knows how to follow.

"you're shy, huh?" you murmur, pulling back to look at him. "that's so cute."

he doesn't quite know what he looks like but his glasses are slipping down his nose and he feels the menthol sting of your lips all over his. there has never been this much blood in his cheeks but that doesn't quite make sense to him because he feels all of it going straight to his dick.

"you're perfect," is what the primordial ooze in wonwoo's brain manages to put together.

you kiss him again, and when he remembers to relax his lips enough, you're slipping your tongue in and letting him suck, and you moan.

wonwoo swears he could have blown his load right there and then—when it came to you, it really didn't take much, and now he's wondering what your skin tastes like, craving the cherry of your cunt.

your hand on his chest, sharp nails and glittery rings, trails down nice and slow. it feels like he's on fire. it's a wonderful distraction from the sensation of your teeth on the pretty, taut skin over his collarbone, but then you're biting and licking and he feels his balls get so tight and heavy in his pants he might just cry.

and then your hand comes to rest on his lap, right over his hardness, and wonwoo's about to protest—no, no, sorry, i don't mean to have a boner! i've never been kissed like that before in my life!—until you drop to your knees, right in between his parted thighs.

"has anyone ever touched you like this?" you say, voice low, dizzying. "anyone ever made you feel good?"

he shakes his head no, a new, sudden wave of desire climbing his bones.

mussed hair and swollen lips, you look more beautiful than anyone wonwoo's ever seen in his entire life. he doesn't know what he did in a past life to earn this but he must have saved the world.

"p-please," he says, but it's somewhere between a moan and a gasp because you're palming him through his sweats, the sensation foreign, thrilling.

"patience," you tease, and he would be morbidly embarrassed at the spot of precum on his pants if you weren't already thumbing at it yourself.

once you take his cock out of his sweats, he knows he's losing whatever battle he was fighting. he sees how your hand looks so little around it, and it's his nth struggle to make sure he doesn't just cum in your face. maybe another day, if he's so lucky.

"i-i might cum really fast," he confesses, because he doesn't know how to really say he's never gotten a blowjob before.

"good," you answer. unlike him, somehow you always know exactly what to say.

the third thing wonwoo learns that day is that he's fully, wholly, entirely obsessed with your mouth. with your slick bottom lip, with your tongue, and now with the way he sees your gloss-smeared mouth wrap taut around his cockhead.

wonwoo can never return to watching porn again. there is simply no one quite like you.

"f-fuck," he pants, the feeling overtaking him all at once. "feels so good, mouth's so good—"

one look at your eyes, big and watery and good for him, and he feels his cock twitch in your mouth. and then you start moving; you take him all the way to the base and then some. he feels your tiny little throat close around him, and the groan he lets out is nothing short of pornographic. he never thought he was that big, but seeing your eyes well up and your mascara get all dewy as you gag around him is doing something crazy to his brain.

it doesn't take long for you to fall into an easy rhythm. you're figuring him out so fast, and that would scare him if it didn't feel so good. your tongue's on his veins, the underside of his cockhead, and he's already gripping the armrests of his chair with white knuckles.

you sink down again and swallow around his length, let your throat do all the work, and wonwoo throws his head back, chest heaving. his eyes flutter shut, and the fluorescent ceiling light phases in and out of vision as you give him what could possibly be the best head you've ever given someone in your whole life.

"gonna cum s-soon," wonwoo manages. "you're so fucking hot."

it's either a moan or a whimper that comes out of you when he says that, and he thanks his lucky stars he has the wherewithal to put that information in his back pocket. he doesn't know when or how but his plan is to return the favor to you in full. and if that involves a copious amount of praise, he's all the better prepared because he has no shortage of nice things to say about you.

you take him once, twice to the base and wonwoo feels all the heat in his balls and his belly and then he's cumming, more and harder than he ever thought possible. he almost thinks it's like a piece of his soul was taken from him.

"d-don't have to swallow," he says, but you do, every last fucking drop until it's dribbling from your perfect mouth, and wonwoo is now fully convinced you are a real life goddess.

i'm an addict in the making, he thinks, but then you smile at him with those eyes, and he doesn't think that's such a bad thing.

he searches for the right words to say, something cool, experienced. it's a constant effort to be that guy for you because he's still not really sure why any of this happened.

"stop thinking so hard," you say, coughing once, then wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "i can see your wheels turning."

how you can read him so easily is beyond him. he wonders if you knew he was in love with you the second he laid eyes on you at the delta tau party.

where are my manners, wonwoo then remembers, and the post-nut clarity possesses him to brush the hair out of your eyes and help you up from your position on the ground.

"i like you. i don't care how experienced you are."

he hears you, and he believes you. instead of arguing, he cups your tear-streaked face in his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe your cheeks.

"plus, i think i'm a pretty good teacher."

you smile, and wonwoo has the confidence to kiss you back, for real this time.

[10:51pm]

your hands grasp mingyu at the hips, aching to pull him closer as his hands cup your cheeks, kissing you with a feverish intensity you could only get out of someone like him.

you pull away to rest your head against his shoulder, trailing kisses down his neck as his hands dropped to meet your waist, locking together behind you as you both sit in a comfortable silence, save for the sounds of your kisses. you place a hand on his other shoulder for support as you stop for a second to gaze at him.

“hi,” he says in a whisper.

“hi,” you say back, reaching up to hold his face in your hand, “you’re really pretty.”

“thank you,” he murmurs, almost seeming shy. he always seems to get shy when you compliment him. he’s got the whole world calling him pretty every day, it’s not exactly new information. he just likes it a little more when it’s coming from you, “you’re always so beautiful too.”

“you’re welcome,” you say still in a whisper.

“why are we still whispering?” he asks, and you both break out into giggles. he tilts his head back as you lean more into him when you both laugh.

“really though,” your voice returns to its normal volume as you run your fingers through his hair, “i adore you so much. sometimes i wonder if there will ever gonna be a day where i’m not obsessed with you and your perfect face?”

“i hope it never comes,” he hums, “but hopefully if it does you’ll still be obsessed with my perfect personality.” he smirks like he’s won something. he’s just always so cute when he’s sassy.

“that i know will never change,” you say, and he softens even more, just like butter. he’s so easy to love, so easy to please, everything about being with him is easy and soft. it feels like you’re in paradise with him, “c’mon, angel, let’s get ready for bed.”

Today’s been an absolute drag, you take to social media to let off some steam where your bff sees you're having an off day. Without a second thought, he decides to stop by your dorm—unannounced, and with provisions in hand.

contents: smut, idiots to lovers, an interrupted bean flicking sesh, college AU, simp bononie :), a potent strain of substance based off one of my fav taylor swift songs bc it fit so perfectly, soft dom Vernon ㅎ, oral (f recieving), raw sex, biting, yeah i think that’s about it tbh.

note: this has been in the drafts since @chwesbaby commented on my mingyu fic, but I just watched the follow movie and the words just vomited onto the page. hope u rock w it :)

Just as your hand slivers past the waistband of your pajama shorts the lewd video cuts off, phone screen taken over by a 0.5x picture of Vernon you took of him at his dorm.

Panic flashes through your entire body, accelerating the beat of your heart as you quickly withdraw your hand from your shorts. Pawing the loose strands of hair out of your face as you stand up in a hurry, attempting to even out your breaths before picking up the call. A thick swallow is all you have to try and gobble up your nerves, “Uh, Hello?”

“You home?” Vernon’s got that casual tone he always carries, voice sounding all too close as it echoes in your ear.

You’re still attempting to regain your wits, pacing around the room with wide eyes as you stammer into your cell, “I, well—um, yeah, I’m—”

“Cool cuz I’m already outside.”

“What?!”

Vernon can hear you yelp from the hall, a smile creeping into his features as you shuffle around the room to find something to cover yourself up with before letting him in. You drape the closest thing within reach—a tattered blanket you’ve kept from your childhood—over your shoulder before making your way to the door.

He’s perched up against the hallway when you open up, wearing black jeans with both hands stuffed inside the pockets of a blue leather jacket, “Yo.”

There’s a lopsided-ness to your smile that he finds cute, “And what if I wasn’t home?”

“Well, then…” He pushes up off the wall to stand before you, eyes outlining the rim of your doorframe before speaking up calmly, “Then I would’ve just gone home.”

“Unbelievable.” You turn around to hide the startled mess of your face, reminding him to lock the door before he sits down.. 

You plop onto your mattress, hugging the blanket a little tighter around your pajama cladded body, “ So, what’s up?”

Vernon gently pulls the chair that’s tucked into your desk to straddle it, crossing his arms over the backrest so that he can still maintain eye contact with you from this angle, “I saw your story while I was at Shua’s party, you seemed kinda bummed, so,” he reaches into his pocket to pull out a clear baggie full of green nugs, giving it a slight shake, “Brought you this.” 

The combination of his styled hair and outfit finally makes sense, but you’re too overtaken by joy to comment on it. Squealing as you practically leap over to his side to take a whiff of the buds.

A delighted smile takes over your features as you pick out one of the clusters for a closer inspection, watching it glitter under the lamp on your desk, “Leaving Shua’s end of the year party is crazy, you love me sooo bad, dude.”

He shrugs his shoulders before looking away for a brief second. Shyness bleeds through his nonchalant expression, but you’re too engrossed with the nug to notice, “Eh, you’re alright.”

You roll your eyes before taking his hand in yours, “Let’s go by the window, yeah?”

To sit on the perks of being a RA: a cute little window nook that you two have designated as your ‘pot spot’. It’s just big enough for the two of you and far away enough from the smoke alarm to prevent setting it off.

On his way there, Vernon picks up the tray that lives on your dresser. It holds the grinder, a lighter, some rolling paper, and a pack of backwoods that were left over from last time. He stares at the options with careful consideration before turning to face you, “Feeling anything in particular?”

You criss-cross on the small built-in bench, “Hmm, up to you.”

He plants himself next to you, fingers going directly for the woods, “Thoughts?”

You smile up at him through the makeshift hood of your blanket, “Just what I was thinking.”

The illumination of the moon paired with the lamp on your desk provides more than enough light as you reach for the grinder, set on crushing the flowers into smokable bits as he guts the cigarillo. Vernon always appreciates the way you two naturally fall in tandem, with this unspoken telepathic connection that always seems to land you both on the same page.

You finish your task just in time, and without a second to spare he begins to sprinkle the green onto the cleared leaf, using a small metal rod to pack in as much as he can. After rolling the first one generously, he realizes there’s enough weed for one more.

From his peripherals he can see the way you watch him in quiet awe. He doesn’t question it because this is always how your seshs always play out: Vernon rolls and you watch attentively. Mindlessly captivated by the finesse in which he handles each of the materials in front of him. 

Your keen observation doesn’t make him quiver, rather, he enjoys it. A small smile plays on his lips before he seals the second blunt with a light drag of his tongue, extending it out so you can take the first drag, “Ladies first.”

Eyes light up with glee as you tuck it in between your lips, snatching up the yellow lighter from the tray to spark up. Three flicks leave you hopeless, and when you shake the lighter near your ear, the lack of liquid sloshing around lets you know it’s empty.

Vernon watches you struggle with a corner of his mouth lifted upwards, letting you pat around the bench before seeing that you’re about to stand up. He gently lays a hand on your bare leg to stop you, expanse silky and smooth thanks to the extra effort put into the everything shower you had taken hours before. 

Fingertips indulge in the softness of your skin for a little before he speaks up, “I gotchu, look.” A hand digs into the pocket of his jeans to fish out the lighter you got him on some random night out. It’s pink and has a collage of cats on it that are backed by shiny glimmer decals, it’s his favorite thing he owns.

“Here,” He leans into you, making a little house around the fire so the breeze passing through won’t blow it out. Vernon watches the light of the flame illuminate your face, making you glow as a twist of concentration tugs at your brows, focusing on the tip to make sure it lights up properly.

Once the end burns bright red, he knows it’s ok to stash away his prized possession, calmly leaning against the windowpane to watch you sit on the cloud of smoke, letting a handful of seconds pass before releasing the plume into the night. 

You pass Vernon the blunt while beaming up at him, “What would I do without you?”

“I don’t wanna find out.” It’s got the cadence of a joke, and he’s relieved to hear you laugh but it’s true. A day without you in it just seems hard to imagine, he can’t fathom the thought of it. As long as it’s up to him, he doesn’t plan on ever finding out.

——

Heavy toques burn through the first blunt in a flash, reducing it to nothing but two centimeters of damp leaf. The fun you’re having leaves you with no other option than to start on the second. By now you two have settled comfortably, basking in each other's company with low eyes and hazy smiles as his curated playlist of the week sounds through the speaker you keep on your desk.

The strain mixed with his vibe of the week is soothing, melting away any stresses you’ve endured today to leave your spine feeling loose and shoulders relaxed.

You break through the soft melodies, eyes bloodshot as they look into his, “What did you say this was called?”

He runs through the memory of Joshua handing him the baggie before he left, “He called it Lavender Haze.”

His big hits have finally caught up to him, adding a rasp to his voice that stirs up your tender senses. You look out to the pearly night sky, sighing into the air, “Sounds pretty.”

Were you commenting on his voice or the name of the strain? Who knows. A part of him secretly hopes it was the former.

A clothed knee brushing against your bare one cuts through the mellowness in your mind. The touch is light but it sears, how long has it been there? You’re spiraling too deep into the light touch when the chime of your phone suddenly yanks you from the free fall. Your laughter sounds through the room as you read the incoming messages on your screen.

Vernon picks up his own to look at the time, 2:49 AM, displayed in big bold numbers over the screensaver he’s got of you and him during finals week, he’s putting his thumbs up while posing next to your slumped figure on the desk. 

He watches you giggle at the screen, careful to pick out your emojis before hitting send. Unintentionally, his eyes go past your shoulder to ask, “Who are you texting?” It's composed because he doesn’t want to come off as possessive, that’s simply not him, even if the thought of you texting someone in the dead of the night sends a pang to his chest. 

You don’t look up at him when you answer, engrossed with the screen as you type away, “Oh, it’s just Seungkwan.”

Vernon and Seungkwan, they’ve been friends since middle school. Both of them count themselves lucky to have grown up with each other’s influence and attend the same college. Vernon loves Seungkwan. He’s funny, kind, smart, respectful, and in some ways, the polar opposite of him. Seungkwan’s always had this effortless, well-received charm that makes him easy to adore. So yes, there’s a twinge of hurt and jealousy simmering in the pit of his gut when he sees the way you’re laughing at his texts. 

He draws away from the screen to take in your profile, admiring the way the moonlight cradles your features so gracefully, Do you look like that when I text you?

The evident dejection in his voice causes your fingers to stop clicking against your screen, “Hm?”

Vernon’s eyes bulge out of their sockets, “What?”

You set your phone face down, moving in slow motion as you turn to look up at him, “You said something. What did you say?”

His tongue runs over his lips as he reaches for the crushed up water bottle that sits in between your bodies, “I didn’t say anything.”

You’ve learned to read Vernon like a book, he’s nervous, jumpy. The rare sight only pushes you to prod, because you need to know if what you heard was real and not some weed induced hallucination.

Surely not your Vernon. Not your unfazed and casual bononie, your second pea in a pod, your voice of reason… Is his reasoning finally meshing with yours? 

Has he been visiting you in your dreams? Set up cameras in the confines of your mind to bear witness to the way you get off to the thought of him? Did your telepathy really run that deep?

You shuffle towards him to find out, bracing his shoulders in an attempt to get him to look at you as you corner him against the window, “Hey, no secrets. We have a pact, remember?”

This pact, a silly little swear that was born after you two had a horrible night, drinking your sorrows over something he can’t even recall now. His slurred words come back to haunt him in the dimness of your room, “Promise me we’ll never lie to each other, okay?”

His once relaxed body tenses up, focus falling on the lack of distance between your bodies. The beat of his heart picks up as the warmth of your palms soaks through his jacket. Your touch isn’t even skin to skin and it’s already dissolving his defenses, making him suck in a deep breath before looking into your eyes.

You widen them, shaking your head to wordlessly encourage him into repeating his sentence, and to your surprise he actually does, “I uhm. I asked—” He looks out the window, finding the courage to confess, “I asked if you look like that when I text you.”

The grip you have on him softens up, but your gaze remains unwavering, “Like how?”

His voice goes meek, but he doesn’t even think about looking away, “You know, all happy and stuff.”

Vernon watches you retract, sitting back on your calves as you let the confession marinate in the air between you. The besotted piece of you wants to have full faith in his unspoken statement, but the smoked through blunts on the tray are mocking you. Pushing the false narrative that this might all be coming from the weed and not from his heart. 

He follows your attention to the tray, wondering why you’re so focused on the burnt-through ends that lay there. 

His breath gets caught when he turns back to see you slowly making your way over to him, crawling through his spread legs to reach over and pick up the remainder of the blunt. You inspect the flattened roll carefully before meeting his glossy eyes, “Vernon… Is this coming from here?” Gently, you settle your free hand on his chest, flattening it there to feel his heart slam against your fingertips for a couple seconds, “Or from here?”

He wonders why you even need the answer to such an obvious question. In his mind, he’s been nothing but firm on where he stands with you since the day you’ve met, you just always seemed to laugh his words off. Maybe you thought it was all some silly bit, but now that you’re asking so sincerely, he’ll lay all the doubts you have to rest. 

Hesitation is nonexistent as Vernon places his hand down on the one you have on his chest, squeezing it ever so softly, “From here, only ever from here.” He’s closer to you than he’s ever been, breath shaky from the surge of emotions running through his body. His grip gets a little tighter when you don’t respond, “Is… That okay?”

Words can’t make it past the muddle in your mind, only allowing you to nod as a grin overtakes your face. Vernon can finally let go of that breath he’s been holding in, letting his body melt into the hug that you’ve captured him in. His state of relaxation is cut short when he feels you settle between his legs, inadvertently pressing his back against the cold glass.

He’s split 50/50. Scorching hot on one side and biting cold on the other, it’s entirely too much for his hypersensitive nerves. When you hear him wince you break off immediately, “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, keeping his eyes trained on the ground in shame, “No, hah—just felt too good.”

Your cheeks flare up, reaching to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “Is that off limits?”

His blood’s pumping crazy, feeling the warmth spread throughout his entire body. Despite that, he keeps his voice level, “Do you want it to be?”

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, thighs pressing together to try and put out the heat you feel radiating between your legs, “No…”

His cock twitches with each flex of your thighs, Vernon’s trying to overcome the drought that the sight of you leaves in his mouth, “Me either,” His hands rub along his tingly thighs in quiet anticipation, “Wanna c’mere?”

The space looks so inviting, how could you not crawl up on his lap? It’s impossible to resist letting your hands fall around his shoulders as he helps you settle comfortably on him.

With all the movement, your blanket finally falls off your shoulders and Vernon can finally see why you kept it over yourself the entire evening. The soft set of your matching camisole and short pajamas leaves nothing to the imagination, it clings along your figure to reveal every dip and curve you’re sculpted with. 

He’s waited long enough, longing fingertips can’t live any longer without your softness, they clutch and grab at all they can reach and relish when you arch your chest into his. Making him shiver run up his spine as he feels your nipples poke through the poor excuse of a top. The sensation rushes his grip to your waist, greedily leading your hips to grind on his clothed cock.

He’s pervading all of your senses, overloading your fuzzy brain with every action, slowly robbing you of your breath as you pant against his lips. They’re so plump and pouty, he can’t hold back from catching them in a kiss where he invades feverishly. Giving into his repressed desires to lead the dominating dance of his tongue. The forced submission has you moaning into his mouth, filling him with pride as you tug him close despite the sharp clash of teeth.

Purposely or not, he’s being sloppy with each wet caress, not discouraged by the drool he can feel starting to drip down to his chin. Unsticking from your mouth with a wet smack only because he can feel his lungs starting to run out of oxygen. Trembling hands reach up to cradle the nape of your neck as he rests his forehead against yours. Shallow chuckles escape him as you both attempt to catch your breath, “This okay?”

You nod in his hold, breathless as you smile against his lips, “More than okay.”

By now your pajama bottoms are beyond wet, sticking to your bareness, but you can feel the bulge straining against his jeans. He’s been so good to you, it’s only natural that you want to repay him, right?

You sliver a heavy palm down his chest, raking over his tight abdomen to put pressure against his pant zipper, batting dark lashes through your glazed over eyes as you rub there, “Want me to take care of this?”

You look so pretty offering to pleasure him like this, and he almost thinks about letting it happen, but there’s something else he’s been dreaming about… 

He takes a hold of your hand to bring it up to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to the back of it’s palm, “I’d rather take care of you.” His lips move to peck your cheek, then higher to tickle the shell of your ear as he whispers into it lowly, “I can feel how wet you are.”

He laughs wholeheartedly when you fall silent, “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s cute.” Vernon starts shimmying your bodies off the bench, hooking his hands under your thighs to carry you to your bed, “Let’s me know just how bad you want it.” 

Your back plops onto the mattress and he doesn’t give you any time to adjust as he tugs your legs off the edge, taking a thumb to mess with the soaked seat of your bottoms, “Let’s take these off, yeah?”

In the time it takes you to rid yourself of the shorts, he drops to the floor. Stomach twisting with pleasure as he’s met with your gleaming folds. Palms quickly move to the pit of your knees to spread you wider for him, the sticky sound of your lips parting plays over the melodies, making his cock jump as he presses your knees flush against the mattress.

The lewd exposition leaves you whining out for him, and when a cold breeze comes in through the open window, the shiver travels directly to your clit, causing your hips to buck up into his face.  

His voice rumbles against the soft flesh of your inner thighs, “Fuck.” 

That’s the only warning he gives before diving into your heat, he rims your fluttering hole before shamelessly running the warm muscle through every one of your folds, occasionally nudging your clit with his nose as he buries his face into you. Making your mind spin when he’d stop to skim over the bud gently.

You’re a mess of twitching hips and huffs above him and he loves the sight, letting you babble around pathetically for some time before complying to your requests of, “More, please baby, more.”

He always knew you’d sound so pretty like this, but his dreams don't do you justice. Your protests lead him to release one of your legs, moving two fingers along your drenched pussy to generously coat them with your wetness before easing them in, “How’s that, hm?”

The soft hum that rumbles from your chest is enough to know that you’re enjoying the feeling. Only a couple seconds pass by before he watches your hands snake their way onto your chest to fondle your tits through your top. He keeps his eyes trained on you, picking up on the way your hips are starting to fall into a light roll.

He pumps into your heat achingly slow as a smug look smears over his features, “That feel good?”

Seeing your reactions just eggs him on more, curling his fingers inside of you to watch your face scrunch up in pleasure as he begins to lap at your clit delicately. Sensitive nerve endings receiving all the low vibrations of his ridiculing voice as he murmurs there, “‘Course it does, huh? You wouldn’t be squeezing me so tight otherwise.”

Your hips match up with the thrust of his fingers, shoving your fists into your comforter as he continues to relentlessly massage that sensitive spot from within. Your moans lose their breathiness, growing more guttural as the light lashes against your clit becomes constant, the tip of his tongue swirling endlessly against the bud with no mercy. 

He doesn’t dare put up a fight when you cross your legs around his neck, trembling thighs smothering him as you grind yourself against his face, “‘m so close han, please don’t—.”

The ache in your raspy voice has him groaning into your heat, slipping in a third finger to your sopping hole to try and make you feel full and boy, does it work. You imagine he's stuffing you full of his cock and the thought alone propels you over the edge, clamping around his fingers as a wave of ecstasy suddenly comes crashing down on your core, “ah, hmm—fuck!”

Only his lungs are relieved to have your legs go limp around his neck because every other part of him already misses the feeling of your pulse on his tongue. He licks up the release of your orgasm, going as far to trace the line of arousal that had dribbled between your cheeks and onto your puckered rim. He enjoys the sharp groan you let out as his tongue collects the sticky mess there, using his hands to spread the fat of your ass so he can make sure to get everything.

You whine, “Ah—shit. Wait, c’mere.”

A small twinge of worry settles on his face, “You don’t like it?”

“That’s not it.” You sit yourself up, fingers tugging his body to get him to stand up. When he does, you aim straight for the zipper on his jeans, looking up at him, “Just gotta feel you.”

He taps around his pockets before grimacing, eyes falling shut in defeat, “I didn’t bring a condom.”

You successfully manage to free him from the denim, immediately shoving a hand beneath his briefs to tug on his angry cock, “Did I ask?” He looks at you like you’re insane, but you only reply with a broad smile, “I’m on the pill, don’t worry—just fuck me.”

His brain buffers then and there, wondering if he's dreaming. Hoping he’s not because if he is, there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to wake up.

The sting of silence makes you slowly lose your grip on his length, “Unless… You don’t want to?”

That’s all it takes for him to snap out of it, removing his jacket then moving onto his pants as he keeps his gaze trained on you, “ No. Of course I want to, just uh, tell me where you want me.”

You pull him by his shirt, bringing his body down on top of yours so he sandwiches you between himself and the mattress. From here you can feel his hot weight throb against your tummy, “Don’t care, just wanna feel you close.” 

He looks at you with a lazy smile that you can’t help but reciprocate. He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, “How about you turn on your side?”

Cheeks almost hurt from how much you’re smiling, quickly following his request to feel him curl into your backside. Vernon’s hand immediately hooks under the back of your highest knee as you busy yourself with lining him up with your entrance. You feel him twitch in your grasp as you glide his head along your folds, voice strained as it plays in your ears, “Don’t tease.”

His smugness from earlier transferred over to your harsh grip, “Not a nice thing to do, huh?”

He can’t argue, not when paradise is sitting right at the tip of his cock, “Sorry, you just looked so—”

Without warning, you sink yourself on his head, hot, wet hole tapering his sentence into a curse, “Fuuck me.”

He fills you up more than you anticipated, voice not sounding as firm as you wish it would, “Sh-shouldn’t I be the one asking that?”

Fingernails dig into the skin of your leg as his grip tightens, spreading you open so he can feed you more of his length, “Whatever you say, baby.”

His use of a pet name triggers a flutter around his cock, he tries to take a peak between your legs, but comes up short, falling in the crook of your neck instead, “Fuck—She keeps sucking me in.”

He refers to your pussy as ‘she’, cute. Who are you to not play into his bit? You’ll do anything to feel him deeper, voice coming out strangled as you plead for him to fill you up, “She needs more.”

“Oh? Say less.”

He raises your leg up higher to finish sliding the rest of his cock in without delay, “Like that?” He leaves you gasping and without the chance to respond before pumping into you once.

Hips naturally fall on a languid pace to get you accustomed to his girth. Rolling against your ass slowly to hear your pussy squelch with each drag in and out. Now that he’s rendered you to a puddle of hitched gasps, his cocky demeanor makes a comeback, “C’mon love, answer me. Is this enough for her?”

Just as your lips part he tugs on one of your unsuspecting nipples, nudging his nose into the skin of your neck, “Need to know where your head is.”

It’s far gone, you can see it drifting further away with each slight brush that his tip gives your sweet spot. Nothing else seems to matter though, not when he’s filling you so perfectly..

Your hands reach behind you to thread into his hair, yanking him impossibly close so he can hear your shattered voice through the obscene squelch of your pussy, “F-feels so fucking good.”

He takes in a deep breath of your scent, further disorienting his senses as everything about you begins to pickle his brain, “Yeah? Here, look—” The hand holding your leg lets go to come up and meet with your lips, perching two fingers on the plush of your lower lip so you’d open up for him.

Raw instinct forces your tongue roll out to accept the digits, coating his fingers in drool as he fuck into you at a steady pace now. When the slobber rolls down in between the skin of his fingers he pulls them away, immediately swirling the slick digits against your puffy clit.

The sensation makes your legs close shut, but that doesn’t get him to stop. Instead, he comes up to lick at the shell of your ear, harsh huffs tickling the skin there, “Keep these legs open for me, yeah?”

It’s a devastating plea that your burning thighs automatically give into, holding themselves in the air as his hips continue to smack against the flesh of your ass. The sound is wet and vulgar, only encouraging him to plunge in deeper. You both let out a wince as you start to push against his thrusts. Your obedience mixed with your neediness earns you a wet kiss on the neck, “That’s my girl, just like that.”

His girl, yeah, you could get used to the sound of that.

Confessed mumbles of how long he’d been craving your pussy spill into your overloaded mind. The tautness in his voice spreads a heat throughout your entire body that slowly begins to pool below your belly button. Vernon tries to hold back his moans as your pulsing walls slowly start to cave in on his length. His free hand finds its way on the expanse of your neck, squeezing there to hold you in place because you’re starting to move yourself up on the mattress.

He can feel each one of his actions coming right back to wreak havoc on his cock, and when he bites on your shoulder to try and keep his noises to a minimum the tension in your tummy finally snaps. Making your gummy walls contract on his twitching length.

His teeth sink deeper into your skin at the feeling, and in his cum begins to spill into your tight cunt, the gravely moans he’s been holding in finally sound in the room. Overexerted hips buck up a few times as the last of his release fills you to the brim. 

He stills in your heat till your breaths come back to normal. Holding you close as he slowly starts to pull out, only getting midway when you both hear his heavy load bubble out of your spent pussy, hot cum leaking over each bulged out vein lining his cock. Reflexively, his hips thrust themselves back in.

Overstimulation finally catches up to your singed nerves, “Fuck, dude.”

He apologizes quickly, hugging you tight as he nuzzles himself into the top of your spine, “Sorry, just missed the warmth.”

A spent chuckle manages to leak through your hoarse voice, “Don’t worry, it’s not going anywhere.”

Vernon kisses over the harsh bite mark he’s left on your shoulder, “Promise?”

You hiss, holding out a weak pinky behind your back, smiling when he winds his around it tightly, “Of course. No lying, remember?”

-

shoutout to however caught the bite me sneak lmao