My Favourite Person | Joshua Hong

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.”

— divorce child ⟢

you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?

★ FEATURING; vernon x producer!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 9.2k words

★ TAGS; exes to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, smut (MINORS DNI!)

★ NOTES; 3/4 stories in the series are now up <3 i hope you like this bc i really just wanted an excuse to write something fluffy and adorable with vernon.... he's got me in my feels these past few days fr. small heads up that this fic also features a bunch of characters from again and again, the mingyu installment of the series. this story takes place a couple years after that fic, but you don't necessarily have to read that part to get the events in this one :3c

★ P.S.; this was not proofread as usual lol if you spot any mistakes, do me a favor and pretend they don't exist !

this is part of the doting on you! series.

★ SMUT TAGS; vanilla, clothed sex, wearing ur bf's clothes kink(?), unprotected sex, body worship, praise kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, the smut is just so sweet okay

★ SVT TAGLIST; @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @cheolhub - @Idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jinniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @jkbabiey - @featmia ★ SERIES TAGLIST; @exactlygreatcoffee - @gyusbabydoll - @jeonwonhi - @ti--red

“You sure you don’t need me to pitch in for this month’s check-up? I can always wire you some cash, you know.”

As you zip the pet carrier shut, you roll your eyes despite the fact that Vernon can’t exactly see your expression. Your phone’s sitting all the way on the coffee table but you were so preoccupied with wrestling your cat, Milana into the bag that you couldn’t exactly hold it like a normal person would.

“I’m good. You already covered for me last time, remember?” You remind him before taking the call off loudspeaker before pressing your phone to your ear. “I just got her inside the carrier. Might have to patch up a few scratches before we leave though.”

Vernon laughs. “She always hates going to the vet. It’s nothing too bad, right?”

“I’ve handled worse,” you snort before grabbing a couple of band-aids you keep around various corners of the house for this scenario specifically. “How about you? I thought I remembered Jihoon mentioning that today’s gonna be shut-in day. You know, that time of the month when you guys lock yourselves inside the studio to brainstorm lyrics together. Didn’t think you’d have the time for a phone call.”

“I always have time for a phone call when Milana’s going to the vet,” he says a-matter-of-factly and you can almost picture the warm smile on his face. The thought is enough to make your chest flutter, but you push the feeling down before it can completely come to the surface. “But you are right about shut-in day though. I might have to go in a few, so if there’s anything you need, you better tell me right now or forever hold your peace.”

“Nah. I told you, we’re good,” you insist with an eyeroll before placing band-aids on the scratches that your cat affectionately left all over your arms. “I’ll drop by the company later to drop off a mix that Jihoon asked me to mess around with. But if it’s shut-in day, I doubt we’ll get to see you.”

“Hmm. I can hide his Coke Zero stash outside so he’ll be forced to go out and get it?”

“Now that’s just downright evil.”

“It is. Anyway, aren’t you going to be late?”

“I already am, but Milana’s vet adores her, remember?”

“Nari adores everyone’s pets. Mingyu-hyung told me so.”

“Shush. You talk like our baby isn’t special,” you huff as you sling the strap of the pet carrier across your shoulder. “We’ll head out now. Thanks for checking in, Vernon.”

“...Yeah. Yeah, take care on the way.”

You end the call with your heart racing inside your chest. It’s not the phone call with your ex-boyfriend that flusters you, per-se. You work in the same agency, for god’s sake. Meaning, you’d be in deep shit if talking to him throws you off just because your relationship has already come to an end. 

But whenever you jokingly refer to Milana as ‘our’ baby whenever you talk to him, it feels like you’re encroaching on something you’ve already lost a long time ago. 

Your listlessness lasts until you pull up by the parking lot. Whether Milana’s staying at yours or at Vernon’s, this pet clinic at the heart of Seoul has always been your go-to. The fact that the attending veterinarian is Mingyu’s girlfriend does wonders to your final bills—she loves giving discounts to regulars and acquaintances—and you like to think you’ve found a friend in her ever since. 

The automatic doors slide open when you walk in—Milana’s bag still slung over your shoulder. Chae, the receptionist, flashes you a bright smile before you notice the familiar golden retriever lying in front of the front desk. Old eyes flicker up to you for a moment before his tail twitches once or twice to signal his excitement. 

“Good morning, Chae. Good morning, Namja,” you coo before crouching down to pet his head. “Is Nari waiting for me? Sorry for the hold up. It was a bit tough getting this one inside her bag.” 

Chae lets out a soft laugh as she types away behind her computer. “Really? Vernon always gushes about how much of a sweetheart she is whenever it’s his turn to bring her in.”

You don’t know whether you should be surprised or embarrassed that Chae knows—or at least has an inkling—of your little arrangement with Vernon. When the two of you were still together, you always brought Milana in at the same time, but now you’re taking turns in bringing your little divorce child to the vet. 

But hey, at least you’re still upholding your parental responsibilities, right?

“Of course he does,” you scoff with a shake of your head. “He knows better than anyone that getting Lana inside the bag is a nightmare. This one’s already her third this year. I was thinking of investing in a cage-type carrier instead but Vernon said it was like we’re sending her to prison.”

Chae sighs. “Men. Always so dramatic. Oh, but Doctor Nari’s waiting for you inside.” The receptionist glances at you curiously before you start taking Milana out of the bag so Chae could measure her weight.

It’s a bit of a challenge, handing your full-grown Maine Coon over to Chae, but despite the fact that she thrashes all around before vet visits, Milana has always been tame whenever she’s at the clinic. You manage to settle inside Nari’s office once your cat’s vitals have been measured and her vet is more than happy to see a familiar face.

“Well, if it isn’t Milana and her single mother,” she chuckles. “You here for routine check-ups? Where’s the father, though?”

You roll your eyes—fully aware that she’s only teasing. “Do you ask Vernon where’s the mother when he’s the one who brings her here?”

“Maybe.” Nari smiles before getting up from her desk and receiving your big cat into her arms. “Oh. She’s gotten heavier since the last time she came in.”

“Yeah, her father has been spoiling her with too much catnip. I only found out last week,” you sigh as you settle into one of the seats adjacent to the one across Nari’s desk. “But she’s been hairballing a lot recently. She doesn’t usually groom as much as she does now. Should I be concerned?”

She hums for a moment as she puts on her stethoscope—checking Milana’s heartbeat while her free hand examines your cat’s light brown coat. “Doesn’t look like she has any fleas or mites hanging around, but I can always do a scrape for you if you want the definitive results on paper. Though the excessive grooming could also be caused by stress.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Stress?”

Nari nods before hanging her steth around her neck once more, stroking Milana’s fur with calm affection. “Cats are more easily agitated than dogs. Lots of things can stress them out. Loud music, vacuum cleaners, thunderstorms… Actually, even a switch-up in their pet parent’s schedules is grounds for stress.” 

You can only watch in silence as Nari scratches behind Milana’s ears, making your cat purr like a kitten despite the fact that her long limbs are spilling out of her vet’s arms. But regardless of how adorable she looks, Nari’s words got you thinking.

In the tail-end of the breakup, it was a topic that was brought up over and over: who gets to keep Milana? You both split half and half with expenses after the two of you adopted her at a nearby shelter. Not to mention, you both loved her in equal measure, so it was difficult to come to a decision that the two of you could soundlessly agree on. In the end, you settled with the compromise of taking turns watching over Milana because neither of you could stand not being able to see her for too long.

It’s been about three months since you and Vernon call it quits and three months since you’ve agreed on ‘splitting custody’. She stays with you on weekdays and with him on weekends—along with some exceptions for when one party isn’t available. It was also agreed that you’ll take turns bringing her to the vet every month to make sure nothing is amiss with her health.

But when you planned on paying Nari a visit today, you didn’t expect to find out that the fluctuating schedule you and Vernon made a deal out of could be a possible stressor for your cat.

“I think you should just keep her.” Nari suggests, a hint of concern creeping on her face. “You could always tell Vernon to visit Milana whenever he wants to, right? The back-and-forth travel is definitely going to take a toll on this one. Also, cats are smarter than you think. I’m sure she’s already sensed something’s off with her parents a long time ago.”

Milana heaves a deep sigh as if she understood every single word her vet just said and you can’t help the guilt that gnaws at your gut. You thought that this was the best decision you could make for both yours and Vernon’s sanity, but you completely forgot to take Milana’s well-being into account. You can almost hear Nari silently judging you, but you shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.

“We’ll… We’ll talk about it,” you reassure, swallowing the lump in your throat. “But…she’s okay, right? No serious health complications or anything?”

She rolls her eyes. “Sweetie, you’re literally the most responsible cat owner I’ve ever met. No one ever bothers to bring their pets in unless the situation’s already too severe to handle. So you’re good. Milana’s perfectly healthy. Just a little…sad, maybe.”

“Why would she be sad?”

Nari stares at you like you just asked something ridiculous, but thankfully she doesn’t dish out any half-assed remarks about it—opting to settle Milana back onto a nearby examination table to do a couple more physical exams. 

“Have I ever told you that me and Gyu used to be in a similar situation in the past?” 

You stare at Nari with a bewildered look while her gaze never strays too far from her patient. She even coos out little remarks of praise whenever Milana behaves. How can someone who’s this focused drop such a question in the middle of work? 

“Vernon told me you guys split up and got back together after almost a year,” you tell her dryly, not liking the fact that you admitted your ex-boyfriend is a big gossip, but you don’t see any point in hiding the fact that you knew. “What brought it up?” 

Nari’s lips twitch into a firm smile before she lifts her gaze to meet yours. “I just think that…you and Vernon? You’re kind of on the same boat we were in before we reconciled. It’s either the two of you are too stubborn or too afraid to see it for what it is.”

Too afraid to…? 

“What do you mean?” you ask. “It’s best that we split up, you know? Relationships between co-workers can get ugly really quickly if we forget to be professional. I don’t want us to stop doing the things we love just because of some work-related spat.” 

“Then the two of you should just learn how to segregate work from play,” Nari insists before smoothing her gloved hands across Milana’s long torso. “I’m not trying to meddle or anything, okay? It’s just that there’s virtually no reason for you to not get back together. You’re still taking care of Milana together, still checking up on each other, still working together—”

“There it is. That’s the reason why we can’t be together, Nari,” you groan at her stubbornness. “We’re still working together.” 

She huffs. “Is there a clause in your company’s contract that prohibits romantic relationships among talents and staff?” 

“I’ve never read the fine print, but I’m pretty sure there’s something along those lines somewhere in there.”

“Oh. Well, who cares? Milana needs a loving home where her parents can take care of her at the same time.” Nari then leans down to cup her face in her hands. “Isn’t that right? You need both of them to look after you, hm?”

“So you’re suggesting that Vernon and I should just get back together for Milana’s sake?” you ask half-jokingly and to your surprise, Nari nods like it’s the easiest question in the world.

“Well, I won’t make any assumptions by saying that you’re still in love with him, since you’re the only one who can say that for sure. But come on, do it for the not-so-little baby. You can just learn to love each other again in the process!” 

You can hardly believe your ears. In the quick stories that Vernon shared about Mingyu’s girlfriend, you never expected her to be this carefree about the matters of the heart. It must’ve been her six-foot boyfriend’s bubbly personality rubbing off on her. 

“Right,” you say with a shallow sigh. “Pray tell, why’d you and Mingyu split up in the first place?”

Nari’s eyes dart to the ceiling as if deep in thought as Milana nibbles playfully at one of her latex-covered fingers. The silence presses on for a few more seconds before she turns to you with a mellowed out expression.

“I thought we weren’t going to work because of how different our jobs are,” she admonishes quietly, lips spread into a thin smile. “But after being an idiot for almost six months, I realized that our jobs don’t matter. I love him. I don’t think I really stopped. Don’t think I’ll ever stop, actually.

“That’s why I was so surprised when I found out you and Vernon broke up three months ago!” Nari continues with a disgruntled look on her face. “The two of you spend so much time in the studio and at your apartment. You even have a child together!” She then gestures dramatically over to Milana. “So forgive me if it doesn’t make sense to me, why the two of you broke up. But won’t you reconsider it? For Milana?”

You shake your head. “Nari, some relationships just aren’t meant to work out. Just because you and Mingyu managed to make good on that second chance, doesn’t mean it’ll be the same with us. We’ve already…settled with what we have right now.”

“What, the endless pining and using the poor cat as an excuse to see each other?” She huffs again and, god, she reminds you so much of Mingyu now it’s actually funny. “Come on, sweetie. I’ve been in your place before, so I know perfectly well. Gosh, this must be how Seungkwan felt when I was still getting my shit together.”

Unsolicited mention of Seungkwan aside, you just don’t see any reason to pursue what Nari is convincing you to do. Nothing really changed after you and Vernon broke up. That’s one of the things you like about him—how easy it is to fall back into a comfortable friendship despite the history you shared. 

But you aren’t going to deny the fact that it kind of sucks that you can’t kiss him anymore. Can’t lean into his chair in the studio to pull him into a hug. Can’t tell him you still love him even if…

Oh. 

Oh. 

Fuck. You still love him?!

“Fine, fine. Since I have a couple more patients on the waitlist, I’m gonna let you off the hook. For now,” Nari grumbles before handing Milana back to you and taking a seat behind her desk. “Just stick to her usual vitamins and diet and she should be fine until the next visit. But if you want the stress problem to go away…”

“Nari,” you groan. “I’m not getting back together with him.”

“Hey, that is not what I was saying,” Nari rebuts with her hands up in surrender. “I was gonna suggest that you just lessen her traveling! Maine Coons are usually really active, but Milana’s a bit of a…homebody, isn’t she? Might not like all that moving around between yours and Vernon’s apartments.”

“But she’s literally with me five days a week. Won’t she have plenty of rest time then?”

“Oh, who am I kidding? Just get back together soon, pretty please?”

Yep. Mingyu’s definitely rubbed off on her.

When you get home later in the afternoon, Milana is quick to slink off to her usual spot behind the sofa to take a nap while you make a beeline for the kitchen. 

It’s always been a post vet visit ritual to get take out to eat at home—even when you and Vernon were still together. However, you opted against the practice for now because not only does it remind you of your ex, but eating all alone in your apartment will only give you more leeway to think about the things Nari told you earlier today.

If you make your own food like you are now, your mind is at least preoccupied enough that you don’t have enough thinking room to even wonder if Vernon even wants you back. 

By the time the sun sets, Milana is still dozing behind the couch and you have a potful of pasta noodles and enough red sauce to last you five days. Another thing that you overlooked whenever you cook inside the house is that you almost always cook enough servings to feed two people. Whether subconsciously or not, you can’t bring yourself to hate how your habits are still attuned to the lifestyle you had three months ago.

Before you and Vernon broke up.

“Work,” you mutter to yourself as you dump some pasta and sauce into a bowl. “If I work, I won’t think about him anymore.”

Not-so wise words from a not-so wise person because newsflash: the time that you and your ex spent in your studio is leagues more than the time you spent together in the bedroom. Vernon has already cleared out his leftover gear from your home office, but memories aren’t something he can pack up and leave with so easily.

You recall quiet afternoons where you’d bounce ideas about their group’s next song off each other—sometimes with Jihoon and Seungcheol connected to a Discord call, but more often in the privacy of each other’s company. 

There were also gloomy days where it rained all day long. Milana would curl up on Vernon’s lap while he played around with the software on your computer—sometimes using the weird sounds she makes as samples to add into the mix along with the soft drizzle pattering against the windowpane.

But it’s even harder to just forget about all the times the two of you came together intimately within the soundproof walls. You can’t even count how many times Vernon has eaten you out while you’re perched on top of your work desk—one hand muffling your moans despite the fact that no one outside the studio can ever hope to hear you. The world is none the wiser when Vernon pulls you onto his lap, bouncing you on his length until he’s spilling into you with gratuitous release.

In the present, there you are in the ear-splitting silence of your studio—the music software your ex bought for you ages ago seemingly glaring at you for spacing out again. You know you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself since it’s easier to come up with the perfect beats when you’ve got a rough draft of the lyrics in front of you—something that Jihoon and Vernon are busy getting done today. 

But still. You can’t help the frustration because you’ve been functioning normally since the breakup. Sitting in the studio didn’t usually lead to you reminiscing about the countless hours you and Vernon spent here together. Making dinner never made you miss having someone to eat across from you at the dining table. 

If only Nari didn’t breathe a word about your ex-boyfriend and all the reasons why you should just get back together. Maybe you would’ve remained rational. Maybe you wouldn’t have started considering things that are beyond your control. 

Maybe you wouldn’t be hoping so badly for something to happen.

You try to distract yourself by listening to and reviewing the mix you’re supposed to hand over to Jihoon today. The visit you planned on making to the company was canceled since neither he nor Vernon were answering their phones, which usually means they’re taking shut-in day seriously for once.

The track continues to stream through the speakers as you munch on your dinner, filling the room with a quiet melody that would make a great ballad once the lyrics are in place. But no matter how good Jihoon’s music is, no matter how delicious your cooking can be, it isn’t enough to quell the thoughts that have been suffocating you all day.

You still…love Vernon. 

If you didn’t, your apartment wouldn’t feel as lonely as it does. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have to feel so awkward whenever you bring Milana to the vet all alone. 

But part of you insists that you’re just being carried away by the ideas that Nari planted in your head. You’ve been doing fine on your own for the past three months. How is today any different?

Your senseless overthinking gets worse before it gets better. 

The next thing you know, you’re scrolling through your gallery, unearthing pictures whose existence you’ve long forgotten about. You’ve spent almost three years with Vernon—two years officially before getting Milana on your second anniversary. Tons of photos were snapped, countless memories created. 

You could’ve snapped more photos, could’ve made more memories if only you hadn’t split up. The fact that (what should’ve been) your third anniversary passed a few weeks ago, stings more than it’s supposed to. That day, Vernon jokingly asked if you wanted to celebrate by your usual spot in the park a few neighborhoods away and you jokingly rejected his offer by saying you had a sitcom to catch up on.

Part of you wishes you accepted the invitation. Maybe the joke could’ve been subverted into something real, and maybe you could’ve been back in his arms by now.

That night, you go to bed with a mild headache and a million thoughts racing through your mind. It isn’t Jihoon’s sad, mellow mix that drones on and on in your head, but a single question that you aren’t sure if you’ll ever get a proper answer to.

How can you still love someone you were so sure that you didn’t anymore?

Come morning, you wake up with a heart that’s heavier than last night and the glaring realization that Milana is missing.

Panicking isn’t usually your first instinct when it comes to your cat. Milana is fairly easy to spot because she’s built more massive than your regular neighborhood felines. But when you’ve already scoured the vicinity for your beloved Maine Coon, it becomes clearer and clearer that she’s nowhere to be found.

You ask around with your neighbors—fairly certain that they know what Milana looks like since she slinks out of the house every now and again. What makes this particular situation worrisome is that she hasn’t come bolting back inside your apartment when you brought out the goddamn catnip. So, when your neighbors begrudgingly tell you that, no, they haven’t seen an oversized house cat prancing around the area, you don’t know what to do.

“Wait, come again?”

“She’s missing, Nari,” you whine into your cell as you nervously bite down on your nails. “I… I was so sure that I locked everything last night, but when I woke up, the front door was wide open and Milana’s just gone.” 

Your friend curses at the other end of the line and from the concerned voices in the background, you figure that you must’ve called at a busy time in the clinic. 

“Sorry for bothering you,” you tell her while choking down a sob. “Just…give me a ring if ever you or Chae see her around the clinic.”

“It’s not a bother at all! I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” Nari sighs. “I’ll keep in touch. Oh, but it’s also worth considering that cats like familiar places. If you’re going to look for her, you can start with that.”

“Alright, thank you, Nari.”

After hanging up on her, you bury your face in the palms of your hands—sticky tears matting your skin as you breathe in sharply. You’ve never had to deal with a lost pet before. How the hell are you supposed to find Milana in a city that’s as big as Seoul?

You consider calling the police to file a report, but you’re not sure if pet cats even count for a missing person’s case. They wouldn’t be of any help if it didn’t. The only thing you can do right now is go outside and look for her yourself.

You’re quick to pull on an old sweatshirt you once nabbed from Jihoon before heading out—simultaneously texting every one of your friends about the situation as you scout further out of your neighborhood. Hell, you even contacted the animal shelter you and Vernon adopted Milana from out of sheer desperation.

Thankfully, a handful of them responded right away with a promise that they’ll keep a close eye out for any Maine Coons that surely don’t belong in their areas.

But no matter where you look, you always end up back to square one. It doesn’t help that Milana doesn’t usually wander too far from your apartment, which means that you have no clue where she could’ve possibly gone.

Nari mentioned that cats like familiar places, but the only places that are remotely familiar to Milana are yours and Vernon’s apartments. 

Yours and Vernon’s…

You quickly bolt back to your place—scrambling to your car before fumbling to get the keys into the ignition. A few failed attempts and very loud cursing later, you manage to rev the engine to life. The next thing you know, you’re pulling into the street with an urgency that’s barely beating the speed limit. 

Given that it’s still a weekend, you don’t have to come into work, which means that you have no idea what the boys’ schedule looks like right now. You’re not even sure if Vernon is in the same city, but you’d rather risk the off-chance that he isn’t in Seoul than do nothing. 

You try your best to keep an eye on the road all while dialing up your ex-boyfriend as well as doing your best to obey every Korean traffic law there is. The first call goes straight to voicemail and you would’ve crashed into an SUV that’s idling by a red light if you hadn’t angrily brought down your foot on the brakes. Why the hell isn’t he answering?!

By the time you’ve made it to the street that led to his apartment complex, you’re already shaking with anxiousness. Dozens of uncertainties flit into your mind a million miles per minute. What if he doesn’t know where she is? What if he gets mad at you for losing Milana? Hell, what if he isn’t even here? 

Shoving down all these biting questions, you park haphazardly across the street, locking your car behind you as you jog up to the steps that lead to the entrance. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that the receptionist at the counter still recognizes you—even going as far as flashing you a kind smile and informing you that Vernon is just upstairs. You wordlessly thank her for the tip before jamming a thumb on the elevator buttons. 

You tap your foot impatiently across the marble tiles. Why the hell did Vernon choose to live in a place where you have to use elevators just to get home? Your apartment’s much more accessible especially in times like this when you feel like you’re going to explode with how fucking nervous you are—

The elevator dings when it arrives at the ground floor, making your nerves jump back into focus. You’re completely ready to brush past whoever’s getting out so you can come up to your ex-boyfriend’s apartment faster, but when you meet said ex-boyfriend’s surprised gaze at the mouth of the elevator, your prior urgency comes into a screeching halt.

He’s dressed like he usually is on lazy days—ugly checkered pajama pants, a tour shirt from some Western band that he probably hasn’t listened to a day in his life, and that perpetual bedhead he always sports whenever he just rolled out of bed.  

God, he looks so good. It’s so fucking unfair.

“Hey,” he greets awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I was just about to head out and grab breakfast… Uh, make that brunch. Did you need something?”

You don’t even dare to dawdle. “Is Milana with you?”

Vernon cranes his head in confusion and the look makes your heart sink like a stone. “Last I recall, you’re the one who brought her to and from the vet yesterday. Aren’t we missing a couple of chapters here or…?”

You meant to explain the situation as concisely as you possibly can to him. Vernon’s always been an easy going guy. You’re sure that he won’t resent you for it when he finds out that you lost the daughter you’ve been sharing custody over. Even if some irrational part of your brain insists that he will. 

But instead of coherent words, all that comes out of your mouth is a choked up sob.

The curve between Vernon’s neck and shoulder is as comfortable as you recall as you press your face against the crook of it—letting the tears run from your eyes and across his pale skin. You vaguely feel him wrap a protective arm around your frame while his free hand smooths down your hair and it makes you wonder why he’s patient enough to let you cry in his arms despite not having explained what the hell even happened yet.

He’s thoughtful enough to bring you to a more secluded corner of the lobby, calming you down by rubbing soothing shapes on your back with his hand and never letting you stray too far from his embrace. It helps that his low voice is there to keep you grounded—telling you that everything’s going to be fine and you just have to breathe, love. 

It works after a few minutes and Vernon only lets you let go when he’s sure you’re not in danger of suffocating on your own tears anymore.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he murmurs, taking your hand in his. A small gesture that you’re too selfish to resist. “Is it about Lana?”

You nod weakly. “She’s…gone, Vernon. I have no idea where she went, but she’s gone.”

He hums in understanding and surprisingly enough, the understanding glint in his eyes never wavers. It’s a bit off-putting since you expected him to at least be shocked by the news, but it’s almost like he’s used to hearing that your pet cat just ran away. 

“Right. I forgot to tell you about this new habit of hers.” He chuckles with an apologetic smile before one of his hands reaches up to wipe the tears off your cheeks. The close proximity has heat rising to your face, but you’re too stunned to react.

“I read somewhere that it’s good for Maine Coons to wander around to stretch out their limbs. Nari also told me last month that Lana could use the exercise, so whenever she comes over to mine, I let her out without supervision. She eventually finds her way to the lobby and just waits for me to come back if I’m ever running a little late.”

You listen to every word of Vernon’s explanation with a look of disbelief. All this time, you were worried sick about how he’ll react to the news that you lost your cat, but he’s been letting her go out and about when it’s his turn to look after her?

“Then where is she now?” you ask—not bothering to pick a fight with him now of all times.

Vernon hums for a moment as if considering the options and you don’t miss how his fingers tighten around yours when he gives you an answer.

“I might have a good idea.”

When Vernon suggested for you to head to the park just a few minutes away from your apartment as he climbed into the passenger seat, you merely scowled at him. “Milana is afraid of all the dogs that go for walks there. The only dog she isn’t scared of is Namja.” 

“Just trust me,” he insists as you start the car. “Better we look there and find nothing than not look when there turns out to be something.”

His logic isn’t so flawed after all when he briskly leads you down a familiar walkway to an even more familiar location. It’s a small hill that’s got a perfect view of the river nearby. The upslope is lined with plum blossom trees that bloom even more vibrantly in spring and it just so happens that one of those trees is dubbed as yours and Vernon’s usual spot. 

It’s where you and him usually hang out when the air in the studio has gotten a bit too stale to bring forth any sort of output. The outdoors can offer all sorts of inspiration when it comes to writing and producing songs and it’s common practice to make the trip to the usual spot when either of you are suffering from a nasty bout of creativity block. 

And under the shade of the tree in the said usual spot is none other than Milana—curled up in deep slumber as plum blossom petals drift onto her pale brown fur. 

You don’t even feel bad for rudely disturbing her from her comfortable nap, immediately pulling her into an abrupt embrace as you feel the tears welling in your eyes again. Milana lets out a strangled meow—claws straining against your skin with a threat of attack if you don’t knock it off. But you can’t bring yourself to care. You’d gladly use up all the band-aids in the world after she scratches you up if it means you can get to hug her for a few seconds more.

“There she is. All cozy at that.”

Vernon’s smooth voice startles you out of your relief—so overwhelmed to see your cat again that you almost forgot that you had company.

“I told you she’d be here,” he laughs before reaching out to pet her head. “You got us worried though. Don’t go wandering too far, okay, Lana? You scared your mom shitless, you know?” 

Milana responds with a disgruntled noise but you can feel her claws retract nonetheless. Damn Vernon and the fact that he’s obviously the favorite parent…

She seems considerably happier when you deposit her into her father’s arms—nuzzling his chest with a satisfied purr as you and Vernon start to descend the hill. 

But as he showers her with affection, you can’t help but sneak brief glances in your ex-boyfriend’s direction. Vernon has always been easy on the eyes. That’s one of the reasons you were drawn to him in the first place. But whenever you see him like this—laughing goofily as he teases Milana, the high of his cheekbones dusted red with a shower of plum blossoms gliding all over…

The gods are cruel to think you could ever put up a fight.

When Vernon comes over to bring Milana back to your apartment, you don’t expect him to stay for too long. He mentioned on the way that yesterday’s shut-in session was a complete success and that they’ve got all their work cut out for them. All they need is a green light from the higher-ups before Jihoon can start handing the song samples to the company’s usual team of producers—a team that just happens to include you.

So yeah, you don’t expect Vernon to linger because he’s obviously got a lot on his plate. The man hasn’t even had breakfast or brunch or whatever. So when he surprisingly decides to stay and rummages through your fridge for the pasta noodles and red sauce you’ve been saving for tonight, it’s like you never broke up with him at all.

The sight is almost too familiar for you to bear. 

Vernon sitting on the kitchen counter, helping himself to some day-old pasta as his long legs dangled over the edge. Milana watching his feet sway around with keen eyes as she attempts to swipe at them with her claws. Not to mention you, who’s staring at the two of them like they’re the most precious things in the world.

“Hey, this is really good,” Vernon compliments with half his mouth stuffed with noodles. “You’re using that one Italian tomato sauce that I like, right? Man, I missed this a lot.” 

You will yourself to snap out of whatever trance his presence has got you in before walking closer to him with a soft laugh. You lean across the counter, grabbing a fork from the drawer where you keep your silverware to help yourself to some of the pasta that he haphazardly tossed into the microwave. 

“It could’ve been better if you heated the noodles properly in boiling water.” You shake your head. “Then again, you’ve always been impatient when it comes to food.”

“Not as impatient as Seokmin-hyung,” he snickers. “One time when we were still staying back in the dorms, Mingyu-hyung just put the lasagna in the oven but Seokmin-hyung was already yelling about when it’ll be ready to eat. Actually, he always does that even if one of us just pops something in the microwave.”

You shake your head, recalling the words of Nari’s receptionist, Chae. “Men. Always so dramatic.”

Vernon snickers in agreement. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

You fall into conversation with him so easily, it’s almost unreal. When Vernon finishes his food, the two of you eventually migrate to the living room—catching up with each other in a way that you don’t really have the time to whenever he comes over to pick up Milana from your apartment in the past. 

Speaking of Milana, your cat acts as a barrier of sorts between you and Vernon, lying comfortably in the space that the two of you left unfilled. Cuddling up to him on the couch used to be so easy, it’s almost second nature, but now that you’re nothing but co-workers that are friends at best, you’ve got a lot more reservations than you used to have.

“By the way, I’ve been looking everywhere for that sweatshirt,” he muses before pointing at the graphic crewneck you’re wearing. “I thought I lost it in the laundry or that Seungkwan might’ve nabbed it when he came over to my place.” 

“Why is he your first suspect?” you snort. “Also, what are you talking about? This is Jihoon’s.”

Vernon blinks at you, a little confused. “No, that’s mine. Jihoon-hyung must’ve borrowed it from me and let you borrow it after. When did you even get it from him?”

“Um. About a month ago?”

“That explains it then.” 

You roll your eyes. “Look, if you want your sweatshirt back, I can just give it to you.”

“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” he insists, one hand drifting onto Milana’s head so he can scratch her ears. “You’ve always looked good in my clothes anyway.”

Silence fills the room almost uncomfortably at how easy it is for him to admit that. The sudden shift in the atmosphere occurs to Vernon a little late and the smile on his face falls when he realizes what he just said.

“Oh, I didn’t… I mean—”

“It’s— It’s okay,” you interject meekly, managing a shy smile as you tug on the sleeves of your—his—sweatshirt. “I always liked wearing your clothes too.”

You’re perfectly aware that you should know how to hold yourself accountable for the things you say. That goes the same for Vernon. So when the two of you willingly let the other hear such controversial things that co-workers-slash-friends probably shouldn’t be saying to each other, you’re not sure what to make of the situation. 

Are you reading him wrong? Or is he actually reciprocating your misplaced longing, no matter how subtle? It’s always been hard to tell with Vernon, who’s never straightforward with what he wants to communicate. Always trusting that you would understand the nuance of his every action, his every word, when all they do is make your head spin.

The sight is perfectly domestic—lounging comfortably on the sofa after a good meal, both of your feet kicked up on the coffee table, and your big baby daughter purring quietly from where she lies between the two of you. 

But even if three months doesn’t seem like a whole lot, it’s enough time for some…due changes to eventually set. 

“You know…” Vernon starts, sucking in a deep breath almost like he’s nervous.

“Do I know what?” 

His eyes flicker over to the ceiling as if praying for some sort of deliverance before forcing himself to meet your gaze again. There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t parse right away, and you wonder if you can ever understand what it is. 

“I… I still listen to that old mixtape you gave me. Do you remember? The one you gave to me when we first met?” he murmurs quietly, bringing his hands onto his lap so he can twiddle with his thumbs. “Before we have to come up on stage and I start feeling nervous, I just listen to a softcopy of that mixtape on my phone. I still do now.”

That mixtape… He still has that? Moreover, he managed to save a softcopy and downloaded it onto his phone? You would’ve asked him how on earth he managed to do that, if you weren’t so startled about his sudden revelation.

“Your voice always gives me strength. Even when we weren’t together yet—even if we’re not together anymore.” Vernon purses his lips, a sad look eclipsing the sincerity in his eyes as he strokes Milana’s fur thoughtfully. “So I’m really sorry if you think I’m overstaying my welcome today. I definitely am. But I just— I just wanted to be selfish for once.I wanted to spend a little more time with you because I know you’ll go back to distancing yourself from me once I leave.”

When he turns to face you, you know it’s the real deal. There’s a spark of determination in his eyes that scares you a little—like he’s about to say something you’re not ready to hear yet regardless of how badly you want to. 

But before he can get a chance to utter the words, your phone starts ringing on the coffee table. You’ve never swooped in to answer a call so quickly in your life.

“Hello, what’s up?” You nearly cringe at how bubbly your voice sounds as you get up from the couch.

“Hey, have you found Milana?” Nari’s voice flows into your ear, genuine concern lacing each word. “I asked Mingyu to look around with Namja, but no dice. I could contact some other friends if you—”

“It’s okay, Nari,” you interject, fingers drumming across your thigh. “We already found her.”

Your friend makes a curious noise. “Who’s we?” 

You nearly balk when Vernon plucks the phone out of your hands, pressing it to his ear with a smug grin that you don’t usually see him wear.

“Who else?” he says. “Thanks for checking in, Nari. But we’re kind of…busy.” 

The call isn’t even on loudspeaker but you can obviously hear the way Nari gasps like Vernon just unveiled some scandalous secret. “Oh my god. Are you—”

Vernon ends the call before tossing your phone back onto the couch, startling Milana out of her nap. Your cat flashes Vernon something similar to a dirty look before hopping off the cushions and sauntering off elsewhere. You just hope she doesn’t retaliate by wandering outside again.

But your cat’s newest penchant for wandering around is the last thing on your mind because even if you’re not facing him, you can sense Vernon’s towering presence directly behind you.

You don’t resist when he hugs you from behind—resting his forehead against your shoulder as he breathes out a shuddering sigh. His arms still feel like home despite being months into the breakup and you don’t know how to fucking deal with it.

“I still love you. Never stopped,” he whispers. “It was…completely stupid of me to think we’re better off as friends just because we’re coworkers. You’re too important to me. I don’t want to be your friend. I want to—”

You don’t even give him leeway to finish that sentence, whirling around in his embrace as you meet his lips in a quiet kiss.

In a split second, several things happen at once. Dying stars collide. Black holes collapse. Eternities unspool. 

And you start to realize that you can’t live without Vernon Chwe.

“Shit, Hansol, please.”

Vernon loves how his other name falls so gracefully from your lips—loves how you frame the words in such an…interesting way. You only ever call him that when you’re feeling particularly strong emotions—happiness, anger, disappointment…

Pleasure.

He heaves a long sigh as he peels himself away from the home he’s made between your thighs. You’re not sure how long Vernon has been eating you out, but your brain is close to melting and you can’t process any other coherent thoughts aside from how your cunt still tingles from the orgasm he just gave you. 

Your panties have long been discarded on the bedroom floor. All you’re donned with now is the old sweatshirt that you thought belonged to Jihoon but turns out was Vernon’s property all along. He insisted that you keep it on—emphasizing just how much he likes seeing you in his clothes before promptly robbing you of your capacity to think by eating pussy like it was his life’s purpose.

It doesn’t help that he looks so fucking delectable between your legs—big hands splayed across the sensitive flesh of your thighs as he looks up at you with a dazed expression. His lips are parted, still glossy from the aftermath of your release and the look in his eyes almost makes it seem like he’s the one who’s just been eaten out to completion.

“Fuck, ‘Sol,” you whimper, head falling back onto the pillows as you shield your eyes with your arm. You can’t even look at him without feeling like you’re about to combust. “Stop staring at me like that…”

Vernon leans down to pry your arm off your face—forcing you to meet his loving gaze before pressing your arm down onto the mattress.

“Like what?” he whispers, the blunt of his nail scraping against your bottom lip. 

“Like you want to swallow me whole.”

His eyes almost crinkle with how wide he smiles at you and you nearly writhe with anticipation when you feel his drenched fingers prodding your slicked entrance again. 

“What if I tell you that’s exactly what I want?”

Vernon’s mouth is on yours before you can even breathe, tongue bullying its way past your lips as he licks into your mouth. He slips the digits he used to tease you back into your wet channel and you delight in how he swallows your moans as he pumps them inside at a languid pace. Vernon has always been good at building your release from the ground up—never one to rush any orgasms he’s willing to give. As long as you feel good, he’ll exercise as much patience as he can.

“V-Vernon,” you gasp when he curls his fingers and thumbs at your clit at the same time, flicking your sensitive bud with just the right amount of pleasure that has your toes curling with pleasure. “Fuck, please, please—”

“Sounds so good for me,” he sighs, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before giving a delicious tug. “Wanna record all your pretty noises and use it in a song. D’you want that too, love? Want everyone to hear how nice you sound?”

The idea of him using your voice in the throes of pleasure for such a mundane thing sends a rush of heat straight to your core. You moan in reply, rubbing your needy cunt against his hand in a desperate attempt to get yourself off. Vernon chuckles against your lips and his teasing almost makes you pout, if only he isn’t so fucking good at finding your g-spot.

The first time he makes you come, it’s with his mouth and the second is after he expertly picks you apart with his fingers. But no matter how well Vernon knows your body, you still think it’s fucking unfair for him to coax orgasm after orgasm from you like it’s as easy as breathing.

“Hansol,” you whisper—brain too fucked out to segreget his two names properly. “Want you inside me. Want all of you.”

He shakes his head with an audible tut, slipping his fingers out of your pulsing hole. The action makes you mewl in protest, but Vernon brings those same fingers to your lips to silence you. 

“You have to work on your patience, love,” he murmurs, angling his face a little before his lips descend onto your neck. “It’s been a while since I’ve had you like this… I want to savor you. You’ll let me do that, right?”

All you can do is answer him with a helpless nod.

His sweatshirt is off in a split second, revealing your body to him in a way that makes you want to hide underneath the covers. He gazes at you so intensely, it makes you wonder how someone you broke up with three months ago still looks at you like it's the first time.

Vernon writes poetry onto your skin with each caress of his lips, making sure you feel everything he’s doing to you as he leaves no inch of your body untouched. Sex with him has always been intense, not because he likes to fuck hard and fast but because he likes to take his time—to sink himself into your skin deep enough that you can’t ever hope to flush him out of your system. 

That’s probably one of the reasons why you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop loving him. He’s become such a fundamental part of your life that living without him is the same as breathing without oxygen. 

“Beautiful,” he murmurs as his lips latch onto your breasts. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Vernon isn’t a man of many words. You’ve come to know this for a fact, so whenever he spills all these compliments for you to hear, it makes your heart swell inside your chest. A handful of other people have called you that in the past, but when the words come from Vernon’s mouth, it feels like the gospel truth.

Fortunately, your lover was never too cruel to you. Sure, he likes to instill the value of patience, but Vernon never found the appeal of bringing your partner to tears because of their unquenchable need for release.

He doesn’t even make you beg for his cock. Vernon simply lines up the tip with your swollen entrance before slowly pushing inside—dark eyes cognizant of every shift in your expression to make sure he isn’t hurting you. When all he sees is you whimpering from how good it feels to be split open by his cock, he knows he’s doing it right.

“I love you,” he whispers breathlessly—hoping the words won’t be lost in the midst of the mind-numbing pleasure. “I’m so in love with you.”

He ploughs you into the mattress slowly, deeply, wanting you to feel every inch of his cock as he fucks into you. Vernon is rarely vocal with his words when it comes to sex, but he makes up for it with the pleasurable sounds that escape his lips. And with how long it’s been since the two of you lied together like this, you wouldn’t blame him for feeling more unhinged than usual.

“I love you, too, ‘Sol,” you sigh but the words are eclipsed with a high-pitched keen when he amps up the pace of his thrusts. 

“I love hearing you say that,” Vernon groans, biting his lip until he can taste iron on his tongue. 

“Then I’ll keep saying it.” It’s a miracle how you manage to get the words out when he’s quite literally punching the breath out of your lungs with each stroke. “I’ll say I love you while you’re fucking me. I’ll say I love you even when you’re not.”

“I’ll say it all the time if it means you’ll come back to me.”

For a moment, the intense pace he’s set falters—eyes wide and mouth agape. You worry that you must’ve said something out of turn, but Vernon proves you wrong by pulling you forward into a tight embrace, fucking up into your tight cunt with a kind of vigor that you never would’ve associated with someone as easy going as he is.

“I’m yours, love.” he rasps against your neck, teeth grazing the skin just above the thrum of your pulse. “I’ll always be yours.”

The sudden switch in positions and the sincerity of his words is what pushes you over the edge a third time—making you cling onto Vernon like a lifeline as he continues fucking you through your orgasm. You can tell that he’s close. His strokes are more erratic, more frantic. Now that he’s brought you to the pinnacle, he doesn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t make it to that same paradise too.

When he comes, it’s a burst of white hot pleasure that singes through every single nerve ending in Vernon’s brain. You let out such an adorable little whimper as his cum coats your insides in generous spurts, filling you to the brim with his emission with the full intention of keeping it inside you for days.

But as much as he loves entertaining the idea of defiling you until everyone in the world knows you belong to him… 

He’s always put great importance in the art of aftercare.

Both of you try very hard to ignore Milana’s judgemental stare as Vernon carries you to the bathroom—propping you up on the toilet cover first as he draws a warm bath. But from the way she dismissively leaves the two of you to your own devices after a few minutes, you like to think that you’ve gotten her seal of approval.

Your no-longer-ex-boyfriend gently lays you into the tub with him, reaching out for the soap on one of your toiletry holders as he massages you everywhere you’re sore. You let out a satisfied sigh before resting the back of your head against his firm shoulder.

“How’re you going to explain to the higher-ups that you’re dating one of their producers again?” you chuckle, placing your hand on top of his as he continues to clean you up. “Maybe I should just find a job somewhere else. A place where it isn’t illegal to have an idol as a boyfriend.”

“Maybe,” he muses before placing a firm kiss on your temple. “But whatever happens, I know I’ll always stick by you no matter what.”

You turn around, arching an eyebrow at him. “Even if it’ll cost you your job?” 

You completely expect him to backtrack a little. Vernon is obsessed with you—you get that. But probably not to a point where he’s willing to breach the company’s contract just to keep being with you, right? 

But for some reason, it sounds so fucking easy for him to say it when he whispers:

“Even if it’ll cost me my job.”

⟢ end notes: this is probably the sweetest thing i've ever written bc i personally headcanon vernon as someone who loves his s/o so deeply, it consumes him (like in a good way yk). i had so much fun writing this (esp since i got to sneak in vet!reader from again and again under the name nari hehe) so i rly hope you enjoyed it! do look forward to the last part of this series, which will feature resident catboy jeon wonwoo <3

this is part of the doting on you! series.

---

Summary: Vernon's got a crush on his tutor, and everything gets harder when you start wearing thigh high socks. Everything.

Rating: M (18+ MDNI) | Word Count: ~4.0k

Warnings: shy nerdy simp vernon, horny thoughts, fingering, clit stim, oral f. rec., intercrural sex, cum eating

Reader Notes: confident, implied to be thicc, has a vagina

Vernon sits across from you on your bed, notes spread out around him and laptop resting on his knees. You haven’t been studying long, maybe twenty minutes, but Vernon just can’t focus. 

It’s not his fault though! How is he supposed to care about anaerobic respiration when you’re two feet away and dressed like this?

Your thumb swipes absently over your lip, and Vernon battles to hold in the sigh. He’s used to being affected by you, has always thought you were beautiful and hot and sexy and a walking wet dream, but now you’re wearing thigh high socks, and Vernon thinks his heart might give out from how hard it’s been pounding since you opened the door. 

You’re dressed normally otherwise, a big tshirt and your favorite lounge shorts, and he’s trying not to let his eyes wander but it’s just so difficult when your legs are right there, covered in soft white fabric, each curve and bend highlighted. And fuck, the way the elastic band pinches your thighs a bit has him salivating. 

Vernon bets you’d feel so good under his hands, so soft and smooth and warm, and he can imagine the way your plush flesh would give under his touch, thinks about slipping a finger under the band and pulling, making it snap against your skin, watching your thigh jiggle with the force. 

He knows he’ll dream tonight of slowly rolling them down your legs, of rubbing the indent where the band nipped into your flesh, of tracing the lines the seams left in your skin with his tongue. 

He wonders if you’d let him, if you’d want him to put his hands on you, slide his palms from your ankles to your knees to your thighs, if you’d let him kiss his way down and slowly guide the socks back up, if you’d let him push your legs apart and fill the space with his head, let him breathe you in and lick you open, let him taste you, let him know you, let him break you. 

And fuck, Vernon wishes he wasn’t thinking about you like this, knows he’s lucky you’re nice enough to help him with Bio, knows he can’t afford to fuck this up considering how much help he actually needs, but he can’t stop thinking about your legs in these socks. 

He’s pretty sure you don’t even know, too wrapped up in your own studying to notice how his eyes are glued to you, and when you change positions for the 15th time, he has to close his eyes to escape the image of you stretching your legs out straight and pointing your toes. 

When he blinks his eyes open again, you’re sitting on your knees, your thighs flattened with the pressure, and now the band is tight on your skin, creating two perfect divots that leave just enough space for his hand. 

His gaze is locked on you, his eyes half-lidded and heavy, and he’s trying not to imagine tackling you onto the bed, pulling your little shorts to the side and sliding his fingers between your thighs, when you say his name.

He has to pull his laptop closer to hide the way his cock is starting to press against his jeans, looks up at you with wide eyes and what he hopes is an innocent expression, hoping beyond all hope that you have no idea what’s been running through his mind. 

You ask him about lactic acid fermentation, and he digs through his brain to find the answer, feels some tension leave his shoulders when you smile, feels his dick get just a bit harder when you tell him good job, and resigns himself to a very uncomfortable study session. 

You’re wearing them again. The thigh highs. 

Vernon doesn’t know what to do with himself. It was difficult enough that first time, and now he has to deal with it knowing what he did when he went home, and what he’s been dreaming about ever since. 

You readjust on the bed next to him, your thighs spreading as you cross your legs, and the way your flesh dips beneath the band makes his heart race. 

Fuck, Vernon wants you. He wants to slide his hands up your legs, pull your shorts to the side and trace his fingers up and down your panties until they grow damp, slip his fingertips underneath and smear your wetness over your slit. 

He wants to sink inside your soaking heat, push in until his hips meet yours and stay there, rooted deep inside you until your throbbing walls send him over the edge. 

Last night, he’d dreamed about filling you up with his cum, pushing down on your stomach until it flooded out then fucking it back into you with his fingers, and it’s like he can still hear your moans ringing in his ears, still feel your cunt pulsing around him, even as he sits here on your bed. 

You’ve never distracted Vernon this badly before and he can barely focus on the textbook in front of him, barely keep his eyes on the words and off your thighs, barely hear anything you’re saying as you explain sodium potassium pumps to him for the third time. 

Vernon feels bad, honestly, thinking about you like this when you’re just trying to help him, just trying to make sure he passes biology, but he truly can’t help it. 

He’d tried to stay focused when he first got here, but you’d led him to your room, climbed up on your bed, and turned to look at him with those inquisitive eyes, and that was it for him. He was gone before he even opened up his textbook. 

Even worse, he thinks you might know. 

You’ve been looking at him more, from under your lashes and head on, and Vernon tries not to squirm every time, hopes your eyes don’t stray downward and see the hardness he’s been trying to hide, hopes you don’t see the heated desire in his eyes, hopes you don’t see all the things he wants with you. 

It would be one thing if he just wanted to fuck you - embarrassing but something he could overcome. Unfortunately, he wants to date you too. 

You’re just so smart, and kind, and pretty, and hot, and you’re so nice to him, so encouraging, always explaining things when he doesn’t get them, trying different methods until he understands. 

No one’s ever believed in him like this, or been so careful with him, or tried so hard to help him, but it’s not just that. 

There’s something about you, something intriguing, captivating, about you that makes him want to know everything, from what brand shampoo you like to your greatest fears and dreams. 

Vernon almost dreads the end of the semester, because it means he won’t have a reason to come over every week and he’ll see you less and less, and eventually you’ll forget about him, forget he ever existed to you, forget he even exists at all. 

He feels a hand on his knee, your hand, and it draws him out of his wallowing, reminds him that he is here for a reason other than thinking about you, and he looks up to find you gazing at him with concern. 

“You okay, Vernon?” you ask gently, squeezing his knee and leaning in to meet his eyes. 

He blinks the blurriness away and nods, forcing a smile before looking back down to his book and trying to decipher the diagram on the page. You don’t look away though, or remove your hand, and he glances back up to find you staring at him pensively. 

You keep staring at him, and slide your hand up an inch. 

He holds your gaze, and your palm shifts another two inches. 

His breath hiccups in his chest when you raise an eyebrow and squeeze at his flesh, and he thinks he knows what you mean but he doesn’t dare hope. 

“Are you… what… um, I uh-” Vernon stutters, his eyes wide and his heart pounding. 

“Is it the socks?” You ask teasingly, your hand gliding higher on his leg. 

Vernon blanches, an embarrassed grimace drawing his lips down as his thigh tenses under your hand, entirely unprepared for whatever you’re about to say. 

“I thought you’d like them. I’m glad it worked,” you say with a wicked smile, your eyes flicking down to the tent in his jeans and your hand moving higher. 

You thought… he’d like them.

You’re glad it worked. 

“You’re glad what worked?” Vernon has never sounded or felt dumber in his life, but he really needs you to spell it out for him before he lets his mind run wild. 

“Vernon, you like me, right?” He’s not sure whether to tell the truth or not, but he doesn’t think you’re the kind of person who would get him to confess just so you could turn him down, so he responds apologetically, “So much, I like you so much.”

But you smile, beam really, and say, “I like you too. I thought you liked me but you never made a move, so I tried the socks.”

You like him. You like him. You like him. So you tried the-

“How did you know the socks would work?” He asks, astonishment clear in his voice. 

You grin at him indulgently, in an, ‘oh sweetie,’ way, and Vernon’s heart drops into his stomach. 

“Vernon, babe, you’ve been pretty obvious about having a thing for my thighs. Why do you think I change how I’m sitting so often?”

... 

WHAT.

“I just thought you couldn’t get comfortable!” He hisses, scandalized.

“No, I liked the dreamy look you got whenever I moved,” you laugh, tapping your fingers on his thigh and inching closer. 

“So you’ve been… seducing me?” 

“Yep!” You grin proudly, squeezing the flesh under your hand, “Is it working?” 

“Is it working? Is it working? Look at me!” Vernon gestures downward where his cock strains against the zipper of his jeans, swollen and rock hard. 

“Oh trust me, Vernon, I’m looking, just like you have been,” you unfold your legs and shift to sit up on your knees, your legs spread slightly. 

He attempts to drag his eyes away from your thighs to meet your gaze, but they keep flickering downward as your legs open wider and wider. 

“You can look, you know,” you offer quietly, “and touch.”

Your hand leaves his thigh to take hold of his own, pulling it closer to you slowly and placing his fingertips on your cloth covered knee. 

You’re warm, so warm, just like he thought you’d be, and when you release his hand he slides it up up up to rub his thumb over the band at the top of your socks. 

He traces the seam where fabric meets skin and exhales slowly, feeling your soft flesh give under his fingers and dipping them beneath the elastic, pulling it away from your leg and letting it snap back gently. Your thigh ripples, just like he envisioned, and he can feel his dick throb in his jeans, droplets of precum leaking from the head and soaking into his boxers. All of the ideas he’d had before come rushing into his mind, and he wonders if you’d be down for any of them. You did say he could touch you so…

“What kind of touching can I do?” He asks tentatively, thumbing the band and resisting the urge to make it snap again. 

You smirk and pull his hand higher, until his fingertips brush the hem of your shorts. 

“Whatever kind you want, I’ll stop you if I don’t like it.”

That might give him too much freedom, but he’ll try to use it wisely. 

Starting with tugging your little shorts to the side and sliding his fingers along the seat of your panties. 

They’re wet, fuck, you’re wet, and Vernon groans, sits up on his knees and shuffles closer to you, presses harder and feels your slit parting under his fingertips. 

You’re so warm, warmer than he thought you’d be, and so fucking perfect, your lips opening to release soft sighs and your hand rising to cup his neck. 

He leans in to kiss you just as his fingertips push at your entrance through the panties, swallowing the moan you let out when you feel his digits sink inside as far as the soaked fabric allows. Responding with a raspy groan, he drags his fingers up the slick cloth and swirls them over where he’s mostly sure your clit is, delighting in the gasp that escapes you. 

Vernon cups your pussy with his hand, pressing until he can feel your clit start to throb under the pressure, digging his fingertips into your slit and sinking them into your entrance again. 

He rocks his hand against you and you rock with it, moving your hips to his rhythm and moaning into his mouth when he digs his fingertips into your entrance. Sucking your tongue into his mouth, he pushes your panties aside and touches you bare for the first time, whimpering at bit at the molten heat he finds. You’re so much warmer and wetter than he could feel through the fabric and already he knows he’d do anything to feel you like this again. 

Vernon wants to make the most of it while he can, so he glides his middle finger over your clit before sinking it inside you, your walls fluttering around the digit and sucking it in deeper. 

You buck your hips into his touch, breathe his name, and he’s never heard a sweeter sound in his life, never felt anything as soft as you before, never wanted anything or anyone as much as he wants you right now. 

Vernon almost feels wild with it, shuffling closer and raising his other hand to your face, tugging your jaw down with a thumb and slipping his tongue into your mouth, his finger moving faster and harder inside you, slowing down only when you break away to gasp, “Another, Vernon, another, please.” 

Nodding, he adds his ring finger on the next stroke, curling them inside you with every thrust, spreading them apart and stretching you open. He fucks you with two fingers until he feels your walls loosen enough to welcome a third, pushes his pointer finger in too and hooks all three into your g-spot, rubbing back and forth and grinning against your lips when your hips jerk into his hand and your cunt tightens around his fingers. 

“There?” he asks, curling into the same spot again and again, feeling your wetness start to seep out and drip down his wrist. 

“Yes, Vernon, there, yes yes yes,” you moan, your head tilting back, and he leans down to suck kisses into your neck, licking and biting his way down to your collarbones and dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin. 

His cock jumps when you clench around his fingers and whimper, “‘m close, Vern, I just- I need-,” the breath stutters in your lungs before you can finish, but Vernon thinks he knows what you meant and rubs your clit with his thumb, experimenting with different patterns and pressure until you yelp and clamp down, your nails digging into the back of his neck. 

Vernon’s obsessed with how you sound and how you feel and how you smell, and as you cum, your wetness floods his hand and he wonders how you taste. 

He works you through it, keeps his fingers curled inside you and his thumb on your clit until your walls stop squeezing him so damn tight and he can pull them out. 

Your thighs are still juddering, the muscles tensing and shifting beneath the elastic band and, fuck, Vernon wants them around his head. 

But he also wants them under his hands, and he’s been dreaming of getting you on your back on this mattress since he met you, so he brings his hand out of your panties and sucks your taste off his fingers before pressing his hands to your shoulders and tipping you back. 

You go willingly, your eyes half lidded and your lips open as you try to steady your breath, your thighs spreading automatically. 

You look so pretty like this, t-shirt hanging off one shoulder and riding up your belly, little lounge shorts skewed, socks pinching your thighs, and Vernon realizes he can touch you like he wanted, like he couldn’t stop picturing last week. 

His hands nearly shake as he sets them on your ankles and slowly slides them up the length of your legs, the soft friction of the socks under his palms weirdly pleasing. 

Your thighs part wider as his hands rise higher, his fingers digging in so he can feel the give of your flesh under the fabric, one dipping into the elastic band and snapping it against you so he can watch your thigh jiggle again. 

You smile knowingly with just a touch of smugness and Vernon blushes, pinches your hip in retribution but grins back and starts working your shorts and underwear down. You lift your hips to help and Vernon gets distracted by the strain of your thigh muscles, but refocuses when your pussy comes into view. 

Fuck, you’re drenched, and so fucking pretty, and there’s literally nothing stopping Vernon from diving in like he wants to, so he does. 

He sinks to his stomach and tugs your legs over his shoulders, spreads you open with his thumbs, traces them up and down your slit and pinches your clit between them, just a bit, before licking into you. 

Tasting you like this is so much better than licking you off his fingers, and he lavs over your clit once, shoving his tongue inside you and nearly whining at the feeling of your pulsating walls on his taste buds. You do whine, and buck your hips into his face, your cotton clad thighs closing over his ears and Vernon loves it, loves being surrounded by you, his hearing muted and his vision blurred, swears and your name the only things occupying his mind. 

His dick is throbbing, spitting precum into his boxers, twitching against the fabric, and he grinds his hips into the bed as he holds yours down. You’re starting to tighten and throb and more of your wetness coats his chin, making him groan and grind his hips into the bed. 

Vernon knows he could cum like this but he doesn’t care, can’t think about anything other than making you cum again, so he shifts one thumb up to press your clit down and fucks you with his tongue, firming the muscle and sliding it in and out of you until you shatter with a cry of his name. 

He almost feels like he’s cumming too, his abs clenching and his dick jumping in time with the contracting of your walls, his brain fuzzy with the taste of you and his hearing muffled by your sock covered thighs. He wouldn’t even care if he didn’t cum today, just getting to do this to you is already the highlight of his year. 

You disagree, pulling him up to you by the hair and dragging him into a kiss, sighing at the taste of yourself and trailing your hand down his stomach to land on the waistband of his jeans. 

“How do you want me to make you cum?” you pant against his lips, your palm pressing into his hard cock and your legs coming up to wrap around his waist. 

“Umm,” Vernon stalls, unsure if he should actually say it or not.

“Don’t be shy, I know you have ideas,” you grin teasingly, slowly unbuttoning his jeans. 

He clenches his eyes shut and asks the universe for courage as he breathes out, “I wanna fuck your thighs, please, can I?” 

Your hand stills on the zipper and he opens his eyes to find your lashes fluttering and your lips dropping open as you suck in a gasp. 

“Do you want me like this or on my stomach?” you whisper, growing smaller before his very eyes. 

Vernon’s not sure what made you so shy suddenly but it’s kind of cute, and he whispers back, “Like this,” as he unwinds your legs from his waist and pushes them up until your knees nearly meet your collarbones. He pulls your calves over his shoulders and runs his hands over your sock covered legs, luxuriating in the feel of you under his hands, and pushes his cock between your thighs. 

You’re still so wet, but not wet enough, and he doesn’t want to hurt you with the friction. He’s about to ask if you have any lube when you tug your legs down and twist to pull something out of your nightstand. He sees a flash of hot pinks and blacks and purples, his eyes growing wide with the possibilities and his mind spinning until you hold the bottle out to him. 

Taking it from you, Vernon coats his cock and sets it aside, pushing your legs to your chest and bracing his palms on the backs of your knees. Your thighs look so delicious like this, and he can’t resist leaning down to nip at the exposed skin before sliding his cock between them. 

He can feel the heat of your pussy on the underside of his dick and the drag of the cotton on the top and his eyes shutter closed at the pleasure that immediately washes over him. He forces them open, desperate to see you like this, like he’s imagined and dreamed about, and fuck you’re even better than he could have ever hoped. 

You bounce with each thrust, hands twisted in the pillow beneath your head, plush lips still glistening with your own wetness, eyes half lidded and hazy. You’re so perfect, so sweet, so beautiful beneath him, and already he’s close. 

He doesn’t want it to end yet, doesn’t want to lose this yet, lose you, but he can’t hold it off, not when the head of his dick bumps against your tummy and smears precum on your skin with every buck of his hips, not when you smirk and start clenching your thigh muscles around him, not when you moan, “Vernon, cum, I want you to cum,” and wiggle a hand down to smooth your fingers over the length of his cock every time it emerges from between your thighs. 

It’s all too much, you’re too much, and he can feel his balls drawing up and getting heavier, his dick getting harder and hotter against your skin, and when you whine, “Cum on me, please, Vern,” he breaks. 

His vision fuzzes out and his ears start ringing, his mouth open as he moans your name between gasps for breath and buckles over you, effectively folding you in half while his dick spits white hot cum all over your stomach and the tops of your thighs. 

Vernon’s sure it’s seeping into your socks, sure it’s dripping down your stomach onto your pussy, and he loves it, he loves it all, heck, he loves you, but that’s not important right now. 

What’s important is that he just had the best orgasm of his life with the person he’s had a crush on for months, and he wonders how his life could possibly get any better than this. 

Until you use the strength of your thighs to push him away, scooping some of his cum up with two fingers and sliding them into your mouth, humming at the taste before saying, “So, you’re my boyfriend now, right?” 

AN: got an ask from an anon hoping that i would continue this so i did! requests are closed for now as i catch up, and for anyone wondering, i don't really work in order of reception. I try but sometimes one thing is easier to write than another so i just go with whatever feels like flowing!

please leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed, they make me so so so happy!

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too close (i might just burn you whole) || c.hv

summary: you’ve got your crush on your friend vernon under control… that is until he shows up for a costume party dressed like your favorite superhero

pairing: vernon x fem reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, smut (18+ ; mdni) additional warnings under the cut

word count: 8.6k

a/n: a late birthday present for @fuckvernon <3

additional warnings: fingering, fat cock!vernon, unintentional cockwarming, praise, dacyrphilia, kink discovery, m + f orgasms, implied round two so no aftercare (but it does happen off the page)

“Are you going to tell her tonight?”

Vernon cocks his head to the side and takes a sip of his beer, feigning disinterest. “Who?”

“You’re looking right at her.”

“What am I going to tell her?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

Vernon finally yanks his gaze away from you to glare at Joshua, who had taken the barstool beside him. 

“Haven’t we been over this?”

“We have, and we’ll keep going over it until you come to your senses.”

“There are no senses to come to,” Vernon argues. “I don’t want-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit about not ruining your friendship with her.”

“I don’t!”

“You really think she’s the kind of person that’ll stop being friends with someone just because she doesn’t return their feelings?”

“Well, no,” Vernon admits. “But it will definitely change our dynamic.”

Joshua rolls his eyes. “You’re just using that as an excuse to be a coward.”

Vernon clenches his jaw and brings the bottle to his lips again. “I don’t feel like talking about this right now.”

“I can tell,” Joshua mutters.

Chan joins them at the bar a moment later and orders a lemon drop. 

“What’d he say?” he asks Joshua. 

“That he’s a pussy,” Shua answers. 

“Did you tell everyone about this?” Vernon cries, cringing at the whine he hears in his voice. 

“No one had to tell me,” Chan corrects him. “You’re super obvious about it.”

“Who else knows?”

“Who doesn’t?” Joshua and Chan say in unison. 

Vernon groans and drops his head to the bartop. 

“Don’t worry, no one’s going to say anything to her.”

“They might, if you don’t man up and tell her yourself,” Joshua amends.

“He’s kidding.”

“I’m not.”

Chan chuckles nervously and gives Vernon a reassuring pat on the back. 

“If you don’t tell her tonight you should at least tell her at Soonyoung’s party.”

“I’m not telling her, period! I’m good with being friends, you guys.”

They side-eye each other. 

“So you’re good with her dating other people?”

Vernon lifts his head again. “What?”

“I mean if you’re not going to ask her out, someone else is going to,” Joshua points out, holding his hands up in surrender when Vernon glares at him. “I’m not saying that to be an asshole! I’m saying it because...” he trails off, looking at Chan who unsubtly signals Joshua to stop talking. 

“What? What is it?”

“Well, because we heard Kun is going to ask her out at Soonyoung’s party on Friday.”

“Qian Kun?”

Chan nods hesitantly. “But it’s not like it’s a sure thing! It’s just a rumor, after all.”

“It’s a sure thing,” Joshua counters. “I overheard him talking to Minghao about it.”

“We don’t know if she’ll say yes, though,” Chan offers, desperately trying to keep his friend from spiraling. 

“That’s true,” Joshua agrees. Finally. “He’s a good-looking guy, though.”

“Joshua!”

“What? It’s the truth!”

 “Can I have a word with you over here?”

They shuffle over to the side, leaving Vernon to sulk as they bicker. He can vaguely hear Joshua muttering but he tunes out the words, not needing to hear any more about your potential prospects and his lack thereof. 

The thing is, Vernon could have plenty of said potential prospects if he put himself out there. But unfortunately, he only has eyes for you. And he’s a coward. 

He hadn’t always had feelings for you, that he was aware of. You were Seungkwan’s friend first. He introduced you to the group later and you’d fit right in. Seungkwan wasn’t surprised but he was a bit protective over you, constantly reminding everyone that you were his first. That didn’t bother Vernon- until it did. 

 He knew Seungkwan was mostly joking but after a while, he assumed you’d been a part of the group for long enough that you were everyone’s friend. The hierarchy of who knew you best or longest shouldn’t matter. Unless Vernon was at the top of it. 

These thoughts never even occurred to Vernon until he started hanging out with you one-on-one. You were always fun to have around but he hadn’t realized just how much he liked spending time with you. You were funny, you liked a lot of the same things he liked, you were pretty— that wasn’t a thought you should be having about a friend. God damn it. God damn it.

That’s when he knew he was fucked. He tried to deny it to himself. He didn’t have feelings for you. That would be ridiculous. He was just confused.

He assumed it would pass. He tried to avoid you, only seeing you at group events. That didn’t last long. 

You managed to corner him at a brunch thing and confronted him about why he had been ignoring you. He made up some excuse about how he’s been busy lately, lying straight to your face as he told you he hadn’t been ignoring you. 

Vernon had learned to live with his feelings, peksy as they were. He just suppressed them. The healthy thing to do. 

But now he was forced to make a choice. He had to either tell you how he felt and potentially ruin your friendship, or let someone else beat him to it. 

-

“We can get ready together at my place around four and then pregame a little bit,” you suggest, your voice sounding muffled through the speaker. 

Vernon’s got his phone balanced between his ear and his shoulder which makes it even harder to hear you. He’s trying to straighten up his and Seokmin’s apartment before some of the guys come over for DND but it isn’t going very well. He can’t figure out where Seokmin put the fucking Swiffer Wet Jet. 

“Who else is going to be there?” he asks. 

“Oh, just the two of us.”

He freezes. “What? Why?”

“Everyone else is pregaming at Mingyu’s,” you explain, and suddenly it all makes sense. “We’ll be so late if we try to get ready there. There’ll be too much going on.”

“You’re right,” Vernon agrees. “That’s a good idea.”

“Are you sure? You can go with them if you want.”

“No!” he exclaims, maybe a little too quickly. “No, um, I’d rather do what you said.”

“Okay!” 

He hates that he can hear the smile in your voice, hates that he can picture the exact scrunch of your nose and crinkle of your eyes, hates that he knows just how cute you look right now. 

“I know I said four, but you can come over whenever,” you continue. “And we can listen to our music while we get ready. No one else has good taste like we do.”

“Mingyu’s probably going to play trap remixes of Disney songs the whole night,” Vernon sighs.

“Either that or Justin Bieber’s entire discography,” you laugh. 

“Yeah, we’re definitely making the right choice.”

-

Friday rolls around way too fast. Vernon spent the whole week panicking over what to say to you and he still hasn’t decided. He doesn’t even know if he’ll work up the courage to tell you at all, even if Kun is going to ask you out. Sure, he’ll beat himself up forever if that happens, but at least he’d save himself the embarrassment of rejection. 

He shows up to your apartment in his street clothes, having packed his outfit for tonight in his backpack. 

You answer the door with your makeup half-done, ushering him in before any of your neighbors could see you in your pajamas. 

The door to your bedroom is open, faint music spilling out into the foyer. 

“My roommate’s out,” you explain as he follows you inside. “She’s flying home to visit her parents so we have the place to ourselves.”

For some reason, Vernon’s heart skips a beat when you say that. You don’t mean it like that but his mind goes there automatically and he has to clear his throat awkwardly to shake the thought. 

You lead him to your room and tell him he can sit on the bed while you finish your makeup, and he does so very gingerly. It’s not like he’s never been in your room or sat on your bed before so there’s no reason for him to be acting so weird (aside from the big fat crush he’s had on you for months). He hopes you don’t notice his strange behavior. Or if you do, he hopes you chalk it up to him just being Vernon. 

“I was listening to our combined playlist but you can change it to whatever you want,” you offer, throwing him your phone. 

It lands next to him on the mattress. 

“No, this is good,” he says but picks up your phone anyway. “Can I scroll through your Twitter, though?”

“Go ahead.”

He makes a noise of contentment and settles more comfortably on your bed. He grabs your stuffed Appa and holds it close to his chest as he scrolls down your timeline, humming along to the song that’s playing on your PC.

You’re silent as you apply the rest of your makeup. Vernon doesn’t know the first thing about makeup but he knows that you’re good at it. You always look so pretty. One time you had made your eyeliner look like the wings of a monarch butterfly. He remembers being so transfixed by your eyes that you had to keep asking why he was staring. 

Today, your eyeliner looks like little clouds to go with your angel outfit. You’d done it in white with a touch of glitter to make them shimmer. 

“I can’t believe Soonyoung picked a costume party,” you grumble. 

“I can. How much do you want to bet he’s going to be Tony the Tiger again?”

“You never know, maybe he’ll be Raja from Aladdin. Or that tiger from The Jungle Book? I don’t remember that one’s name, though.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Vernon muses, not looking up from your phone. 

“I guess we will.”

He’s reading the replies to a tweet about one of your favorite animes when you get a text. He’d ignored all of the other notifications you’d received while he was in control of your phone thus far but it’s impossible to ignore this one. 

Qian Kun: can’t wait to see u tn!

Vernon nearly chokes, knuckles turning white as he grips the phone tighter. 

So Joshua hadn’t been fucking with him. He hadn’t just used Kun as an excuse to kick Vernon’s ass into gear. He was actually serious and was trying to help him. Go figure. 

Vernon stands from your bed abruptly, drawing your attention to him. 

“You got a text,” is all he can mutter as he thrusts your phone out to you. You give him a weird look as you take it but before you can say anything about it he’s grabbing his backpack and telling you that he’s going to go change. 

“O-okay.” 

He makes his way to your bathroom and shuts the door behind him, slumping against it as he tells himsef to get it together. He splashes some cold water on his face and runs a still-wet hand through his hair in an attempt to style it. The water does little to cool him down but he starts taking off his clothes anyway. If he’s gone for too long you’ll begin to wonder if something’s wrong but he’s still sweating and his costume is made entirely out of spandex. 

He manages to wrestle the material onto his body and get the zipper up. He takes another look at himself in the mirror and grimaces. It didn’t look bad on him, but it was defintely tight and left little to the imagination.

And now he had to go back out and face you like this. Tonight was already going so well. 

You’re not in your room when he comes out of the bathroom. He searches the hallway briefly before finding you in the kitchen. You’re bent over with your head in the fridge, looking for... something, but all Vernon can focus on is the way your legs look in the white tights you’re wearing. He averts his eyes as soon as he catches himself staring at your calves, cheeks burning with what can only be a mixture of shame and embarrassment.  

“Do you need help?” he asks, startling you.  

You jolt up, nearly bumping your head on the freezer door. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly. 

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Can’t help it, it’s part of my spidey powers.”

Your eyes light up in recognition as soon as he says that. He tries not to feel too self-conscious as your eyes take in his costume, your gaze traveling down his body and then back up to his face. 

“Your costume!”

“Do you like it?” 

“I love it!” you exclaim, taking him by the shoulders. “I can’t believe you kept this a secret from me!” You know how much I love Peter Parker!”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Vernon mumbles, trying to hide a smile. 

“God, you look incredible! Do you have the mask?”

“I do, should I wear it?”

“Keep it off,” you decide. “Your face is too pretty to be hidden.”

“Wh-what?” 

“You heard me,” you double down, smirking. 

You’re teasing him, but Vernon can’t tell if it’s in a flirty way or a joking way. He hopes it’s the first way but he’s also too scared to confront what that would mean if it was. 

“Maybe you can put it on for the group picture or something, but you should leave it off for the party, that way people can find you.”

“Good idea,” Vernon agrees. “So, what were you looking for?”

You seem to remember you’re still standing in the middle of your kitchen with your refrigerator open at that very moment.

“Oh, right. I was looking for stuff for us to drink before we go over to Soonyoung’s but I couldn’t find what I wanted. I bought strawberry soju for us tonight but my friend’s boyfriend drank it all so we only have regular.” 

Vernon knits his eyesbrows together in confusion. “Joshua drank all your soju?”

“No, different friend. You don’t know her. I would’ve just said Joshua drank all my soju’ if it was him.”

“Yeah, that makes more sense.”

“I thought I had lemonade we could use as a mixer but I can’t find it.”

“We can just do shots,” Vernon suggests, laughing when you make a face. “Fine, fine, here let me help.”

You trade places with him and watch as he looks through the same shelves you had just been looking through. He is also unable to find the lemonade.

“You have gingerale,” he points out.

“Do you think that would be good?”

“Only one way to find out.”

-

It was, in fact, not good. But you powered through it together, neither of you willing to show up to Soonyoung’s sober. 

“I’ll call an Uber,” you shout from you room where you had gone to grab your purse. “By the way, do you want me to do any makeup on you real quick? I think some dark circles under your eyes or some black eyeliner would look really good.”

“Sure,” Vernon agrees before really thinking about it. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

That’s how you end up straddling him on your bed, your face mere inches from his as you apply... eyeliner? Eyeshadow? Some sort of makeup to his eyes. 

Vernon holds his breath, putting every ounce of concentration he has into not getting hard. You’re sitting right on top of him and as previously established, the Spider-Man suit is very, very thin. 

Your costume doesn’t offer a lot of coverage either, something Vernon tries not to think about while you’ve got your thighs on either side of his waist. You’re warm, so warm. He can feel the heat of your skin through your tights, can feel the seam of your leotard underneath your tutu, and if he shifts even just a little bit he’d be able to feel-

“There, done!” you announce and climb off of him. 

Vernon breathes a sigh of relief and takes a moment to recover before sitting back up. He’s a little stiff, both in body and in spirit, but he hopes you didn’t notice. 

“Hey, the Uber’s here, but take a look at yourself first to make sure you like it.”

You hand him a compact mirror and wait patiently as Vernon checks out your handiwork. You didn’t do much but it had made a big difference. He looks exhausted. His eyes appear sunken, the dark circles you’d drawn underneath somehow making them look sharper. 

“Oh my god, I look just like him,” he whispers. 

“Right? I thought that would tie it all together! Very Peter Parker-esque.”

“You’re incredible, thank you.”

You laugh and stare down at the floor, seeming shy all of a sudden. “It was easy. Anyone could have done it.”

Then, your phone vibrates on your desk. You grab it immediately like you’re thankful for the interruption. Vernon purses his lips but tries not to come off as deflated. 

“Shit, we shouldn’t keep him waiting,” you say. 

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

You sling the strap of your purse over your shoulder and make for the front door but Vernon calls out after you before you can reach it. 

“Wait! Don’t forget your halo, angel.”

He grabs the headband off of your dresser and brings it to you, smiling to himself when you bend down automatically so that he can put it on for you. 

“Okay, now we’re ready,” he amends. 

-

The drive to Soonyoung and Jihoon’s apartment doesn’t usually take long but your Uber got lost on the way so you were a few minutes late. Thankfully, you weren’t the last to arrive. That honor went to Boo Seungkwan and Yoon Jeonghan who trailed in together a whole thirty minutes after you and Vernon, much to Soonyoung’s displeasure. 

He greets you at the door with Jihoon in tow, clearly already drunk. 

“You made it!” he screeches, throwing his arms around the two of you. 

“Of course we made it, idiot,” you tease, pushing his shoulder playfully. 

Vernon pretends not to notice and he also pretends it doesn’t bother him.

“Who are you supposed to be, Soonie?” you ask.

“Tony the Tiger,” he says, sounding a little offended that you didn’t guess right away. 

“Again?”

“You can’t go wrong with a classic,” Soonyoung mutters. “Right, Jihoon?”

“Right,” his best friend parrots obediently, rolling his eyes behind his back. 

“Wait, what are you supposed to be?” Vernon asks, directing the question at Jihoon this time. 

“I’m the box of Frosted Flakes,” he grumbles, so low Vernon almost doesn’t catch it. 

“Wow, you guys are so creative,” you gush. “Nonnie and I both took the easy way out.”

The affectionate nickname catches Vernon off guard and he can’t help but crack a smile, ignoring the knowing glance from Jihoon. 

“Well you guys look great,” Soonyoung assures you. “Especially you, Vernon! Since when is Peter Parker so sexy?”

“Since always,” Vernon scoffs. “Have you seen the movies?”

Soonyoung opens his mouth to respond but Jihoon nudges him in the side before he can. Headlights flash in the windows, distracting all four of you from what you’re talking about. 

“Oh, I think some more people just pulled up. I should be a good host and say hello to them too. Help yourselves to drinks or whatever. You know where everything is.”

Vernon nods and claps Soonyoung on the back as he passes him. “Thanks, Hosh, we’ll catch you later.”

You follow Vernon into the kitchen, saying hi to the people you know on the way. It was quieter in the kitchen, even though Mingyu and Chan were arguing over something undoubtedly unimportant by the sink. 

They stop only briefly to acknowledge you both before jumping right back into it. 

“What do you want to drink?” Vernon asks you.

“What do they have?”

“All the usual stuff, and it looks like Joshua brought some nice whiskey.” 

“Of course he did,” you chuckle. “Um, I’ll just have whatever you’re having. I usually like what you like.”

It’s true, you have so much in common, Vernon thinks to himself happily.

“Why are you smiling like that?” 

Vernon freezes. “Huh?”

“You’re like grinning to yourself about something. What is it? Are you laughing at me?”

“No, no, I’m not laughing at you. I just… like that you trust me to make something that will taste good.”

“I mean it’s not like you have to cook it,” you joke. “If that were the case I might feel differently.”

“Very funny.”

“I know, thank you.”

You watch Vernon pour a shot of vodka into each cup, balancing your chin in your hands, elbows resting on the countertop. He finds a half-empty bottle of lemonade in the fridge and mixes it with the vodka, topping the drinks off with some ice from a cooler on the ground. 

“Aren’t you supposed to add the ice first?” you ask. 

“Oh, so you are going to judge my bartending skills? I thought that was reserved for my cooking.”

“I am first and foremost a hater. You should know that by now. No one is safe, not even you.”

Not even him... did that mean he was getting special treatment otherwise? Was it because you saw him as more than a friend? Or was it that you didn’t feel close enough to him to roast him unabashedly? 

You had procured a butter knife from one of the drawers while Vernon was lost in thought and were now using it to mix the drinks he’s made. 

You throw the knife in the sink, the clattering disrupting Chan and Mingyu’s arguing once again. 

“Cheers,” you say, offering him one of the cups. 

He takes it and clinks it against yours.

“Cheers.”

-

“If Soonyoung plays one more Justin Bieber song I’m going to lose it,” you mutter, making Vernon chuckle into his vodka lemonade. 

“I’ll see if I can talk Jihoon into hijacking the playlist.”

“No, don’t do that, you know he’ll only play Bruno Mars!”

But Vernon’s already walking away to find him, saying something about ‘the lesser of two evils’.

You watch him go, unable to stop yourself from glancing at his ass and noting how good it looks in the Spider-man suit. When he’d appeared in your kitchen wearing it you thought you might melt through the floor.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to rip it off of him or jump him while he was still wearing it. You did neither of those things, of course, but it was all you’d been able to think about all night. 

Peter Parker was your favorite comic book character. You couldn’t believe that was the costume he chose. 

You were delusional to think you were getting over your crush on him in the first place but all of the supposed progress you had made on that went out the window as soon as he had called you angel earlier. 

The other guys seemed to think your attraction was mutual but Vernon was so goddamn hard to read that it was really anyone’s guess. 

Was he awkward around everyone, or was it just you? Sometimes you think there’s something there, on those rare nights you spend alone together, watching movies at your apartment or playing a card game you only kind of know the rules to. On nights like those, when you’re more touchy with each other than usual, when his gaze lingers on your lips a little too long, it’s easy to think that maybe everyone is right. Maybe the feelings are mutual. 

But then he’ll start acting weird, like he was tonight, and you don’t know how to take it. Are your feelings for him that obvious that he can see right through them? Do your attempts at flirting make him uncomfortable? Sometimes he flirts back though which is why it’s all so confusing.

“I need another drink,” you say to no one in particular before turning around and trekking back to the kitchen.

-

You’re gone when Vernon returns to where he’d left you. It had taken him a while to track down Woozi and plead his case, longer than he expected, but he didn’t think it was that long. 

Jihoon was more than happy to change the music but he told Vernon that he’d have to go distract Soonyoung in order to do so. It was like a series of side quests he had to complete to move to the next level and by the time he was finished you had disappeared. 

It’s not a big place but there are a lot of people in attendance which makes it  so he has to push through the crowds in his search for you. There are people inside and on the deck and in the yard so he has his work cut out for him. 

“Want another drink?” It’s Joshua with two cups in his hand. Vernon takes a glance at his empty solo cup and shrugs, trading for the full one. 

“Thanks. What is it?”

“Beer.”

“Cool.”

“Where’s your date?” Joshua asks, looking around. 

“She’s not my date, and I don’t know,” he admits. “I left her right there and she’s gone.”

“Dude, you left her alone in the middle of a party and expected her to just sit there and wait for you?”

“I wasn’t gone for that long!”

“Did you tell her you were coming back?” Vernon purses his lips. “How long were you gone for?” 

“Just a few minutes...” he mumbles. 

Joshua sighs. Vernon knows he’d be pinching the bridge of his nose if he could but his hands are full. 

“Go find her.”

“That’s what I was doing before you walked up to me!”

“Don’t waste time by arguing with me, just go.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Vernon nods sullenly before brushing past his friend into the next room. 

He finds you in the dining room talking to someone else. He relaxes until he realizes that ‘someone else’ is Kun. Qian Kun. Can’t wait to see u tn! Kun. You’re leaning against the wall, laughing at something he’s saying and Vernon’s blood runs cold. 

Before he can fully process what’s happening in front of him, he’s downing the rest of his beer and approaching you both. 

“Y/n, I was just looking for you,” he exclaims and throws an arm around your shoulders. The gesture is a bit possessive for his taste, but knowing what he knows about what the guy’s going to tell you tonight, he can’t help it. 

Kun gives Vernon a look, sizing him up as he takes a sip from his own drink. Vernon nearly scoffs. 

“Sorry, I went looking for you but I didn’t know where you’d gone off to,” you explain apologetically. 

“Jihoon made me keep Soonyoung busy so that he could change the music.” He points at the ceiling as if to prove his point, even though the music was coming from speakers on the walls. You all stop to listen to the Silk Sonic song filtering in from the other room. Vernon turns to you. “Anyway, I don’t mean to interrupt, but could I talk to you for a second?”

Kun can’t even hide the look of annoyance on his face. “We were kind of in the middle of something-”

“Yeah, sure- oh...”  you trail off awkwardly. You had spoken at the same time, unintentionally contradicting each other. Vernon has to fight to suppress his smile. “I’ll be right back, Kun,” you say, taking Vernon by the hand to drag him away. “This shouldn’t take long.”

She won’t be back, Vernon thinks to himself as he follows you through the house. Unless you reject him, then you probably will be. 

He almost runs into you when you stop in front of Soonyoung’s bedroom door. “Is here good or do we need somewhere more private?”

“Um, it’s still kind of loud out here, do you think we could go in there?”

“Yeah, I’m sure Soonyoung won’t mind.”

The room is unlocked, because of course it is, and you let yourselves inside. Vernon’s surprised to see Soonyoung’s bed is made, but he figures that he must have straightened up because company was coming over. 

You take a seat on the floor in front of the bed instead of on it and Vernon joins you, groaning as he struggles to cross his legs. 

“So, what’d you need to tell me?” you ask. 

He blinks and swallows hard. He wasn’t prepared for this at all. He hadn’t even thought about what to say or how to say it... he honestly thought he would chicken out and let the night play its course without intervening. He had been acting on instinct when he saw you with Kun. Zero thoughts, just action. And now he had you alone and you were looking at him so expectantly and-

“Vernon?”

“Hm?”

“Why’d you want to talk to me? Or were you just trying to be a good friend and get me away from that guy, because I know him and he’s cool. You didn’t have to do that.”

“No, actually I did want to tell you something,” he confesses. “I’m just a little nervous.”

“Oh, is everything okay?”

Vernon takes a deep breath and stares at the floor. “Yeah, um, everything’s fine. Kind of.” He pauses again, hating the way his voice sounds. His words are coming out shaky and uncertain (because they are) and this was not how he pictured this moment going. He sneaks a glance at you and sees your expression soften. 

“Take your time,” you whisper, placing your hand over his. 

“I just don’t want you to look at me differently,” he mumbles. “I don’t want to... ruin our friendship- god, that sounds so corny.”

“Vernon,” you say his name again, firmer this time to get him to look at you. “I think I know what you’re trying to say.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “You do?” 

You nod. “But I still want to hear you say it.”

Vernon groans into his hands. “Why! Do you want me to humiliate myself even more?”

“No, dummy, because I think I deserve to hear it. Don’t you?”

He can’t disagree with that. Even if it means risking the possibility of ruining everything.

“I think you’re really pretty,” he says stupidly, as if that encompasses everything he’s been feeling and thinking about you these past few months. 

You blink. “Is that it?”

“NO- sorry, shit. I- that didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. I do think you’re really pretty, though. Obviously. Honestly, I think you’re fucking gorgeous. I think... I think about you in a lot of ways that a friend probably shouldn’t.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “What kind of ways?”

“Are you really going to make me say it?” Vernon whines, hoping you can’t see the pink flush of his cheeks in the dark room. 

“No,” you relent with a chuckle. “I was just being annoying. But for the record, I also think about you in ways that friends probably shouldn’t.”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm, do you want to know what kinds of ways?”

Vernon finds himself nodding even though his ears have started ringing and he’s not sure he’ll be able to hear your response. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the fact that you like him back. 

“Well, for one, I think you look very good in this Spider-man suit,” you say, running your fingers over the lycra. 

“You do?”

“It’s been driving me crazy all night,” you admit. “I was going to touch myself to the thought of you in it when I got home tonight.”

“Y-you were?” Vernon is apparently only capable of asking questions at the present moment but you don’t seem to mind. 

“I’ve been trying not to stare, but it fits you so well. You picked this on purpose, didn’t you? You wanted me to suffer because you know Spider-man is my favorite.”

“I didn’t think it would be so tight!”

“I’ll pretend to believe you,” you muse, and god, you’re so close to him...Vernon feels like he can’t breathe. 

Just like before, he lets his instincts lead him. No thoughts, just action.

He closes his eyes and leans forward, meeting you where you were waiting for him.  He presses his lips to yours lightly, savoring the surprised gasp you let out against his mouth. Your lips are so soft, just as soft as the rest of you. 

You’re the first to part your lips, inviting Vernon to slip his tongue into your mouth. He’s happy to do so, and he’s even happier when you moan in response. 

You start to lean forward, chasing the kiss even though Vernon hasn’t pulled away. It must still not be enough for you because, in the next breath, you stumble to your knees and climb onto his lap. 

Vernon’s hands automatically attach themselves to your hips to keep you steady as you straddle him. He shifts you awkwardly on top of him, trying to keep you off of his-

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, freezing in place. 

He can’t bring himself to look you in the eye. 

Why, god why, did this suit have to be so tight? He should’ve stopped you when you climbed onto his lap. He knows the effect you have on him, of course he’d be hard the second you started kissing him. Hell, he’s been fighting a boner the entire night. Just watching you walk around in your angel outfit was doing it for him. 

Sure, you were making out with him, and you’d made that dirty comment earlier, but that didn’t mean you were ready to fuck him. He would never assume that’s where the night was going but you might assume that he was assuming because you can feel how hard his fucking dick is under you...

“Why are you sorry?” you ask softly.

Vernon cringes at himself. “Because,” is all he says before you seem to get it. 

“Oh, that. I’m flattered.”

“Stop,” he whines, “I really didn’t mean to. You weren’t supposed to-”

“I know, baby,” you soothe him. Vernon doesn’t get the chance to melt at the pet name you’ve just called him because he’s still mid-panic, but he files it away for later. “But don’t worry. I think it’s really hot.”

“You do?”

You nod. “And I bet if you were able to feel me under my costume too, you’d know that you aren’t alone.”

“Wait, what?” he breathes. 

You lean forward again, chest pressed against his, to whisper in his ear. “I’ve been wet since you kissed me. Probably longer.”

You’re smirking when you pull back and Vernon is left to stare at you in shock. 

“See for yourself,” you say, repositioning yourself on his lap so that he has access to you. “Touch me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you going to make me beg for it?” you tease. Vernon goes stiff under you again, making you chuckle. “Maybe another time, then? Just slip your fingers under my leotard. I’ve soaked through my tights already.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m going to cum if you keep saying things like that,” he warns you. 

“Oh no whatever would we do?” you lament. “You can just get hard again if that happens, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Then come on, touch me. You’ve made me wait long enough.”

“I won’t waste any more time, then,” he assures you, gathering his confidence. 

He frees one of his hands by releasing your hip and brings it in between your legs, fingers trailing across your thigh in a way that makes you suck in a sharp breath. He ghosts his fingers over the material of your costume first, deciding it’s only fair to tease you back, at least a little. Then, he wiggles two of them under the elastic hem of your costume, where your hip meets your thigh. 

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding.”

“I... told you.”

He moves his fingers experimentally, offering you a little friction. “Does that feel good?”

You push yourself into his touch and nod. “Yeah, feels so good.”

“I really want to finger you,” he admits. 

“Oh, you do?”

“Is that okay? I mean, can I?”

“Totally, let me just—” 

You stand and wiggle out of your tutu, leaving you in your wings, leotard, and tights. The wings go next. You toss them on Soonyoung’s bed and then slip the straps of your leotard off your shoulders. You hesitate, looking a little nervous all of the sudden.

“I’m not wearing a bra under this,” you say. “Is that okay?”

Vernon almost laughs at the perpostuous question but he doesn’t. He almost says ‘are you kidding me, I’ve only been thinking about this exact moment for months now, please take it off,’ but he doesn’t. 

“Of course it’s okay,” is what he says instead, like a normal person. “But only if you feel comfortable with that.”

“I do, it’s just… I feel like after this we really won’t be able to go back.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Vernon insists. “I want this. I want you.” 

That seems to put you at ease. So much so, that you walk back over to where Vernon is still sitting on the floor and lean down to kiss him again. 

“You know, you have to take yours off too if you want to finger me,” you point out. 

Vernon wiggles his fingers inside the suit’s gloves and grins. “What, you don’t want these inside of you?”

“I don’t particularly want a yeast infection so, no. I don’t. And how are we supposed to do anything else if you’ve got that thing on anyway?” 

He pretends to pout. “I thought you liked the suit.”

“I do, but I can’t fuck you in it.” Vernon chokes on his own saliva when you say that but you don’t acknowledge it. “Unless there’s like a zipper for your dick or something?” 

“There’s not,” he mumbles hoarsely. “Had to take the whole thing off just to pee.”

“Then off. Unless you don’t want to-”

He’s already up and unzipping the back of the suit. 

It’s almost comical, the way you’re both struggling out of your tight costumes on opposite sides of the room. Vernon was able to get the zipper down but getting himself out of the material that clung to him like a second skin is a little more difficult. 

On your side, you’re tripping over your tights and shouting expletives to no one in particular. 

Finally, you’re both undressed. You’re left in just your panties and Vernon only had his briefs on. He’s usually a boxers guy but the spidey suit had called for something a little more snug.

You meet him back at the foot of the bed, smiling with apprehensive excitement. Immediately, his gaze falls to your boobs. He told himself he wouldn’t stare but god damn it, he’s only human. 

Once he’s done being blinded by your tits he takes in all of you. The soft lines and gentle curves of your body. The fullness of your lips. The delicate flutter of your eyelashes.

You still look like an angel in the white panties you’d chosen to wear under your costume— probably so they wouldn’t show through the other material. He could feel how wet you were before but now he can see it. The cotton is completely soaked through, making the white look translucent against you.

“Okay, I know you said you wanted to finger me, but I really want to fuck you.”

Vernon almost chokes again. “What?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

He’s the one to smirk this time, pulling you onto his lap. 

“I will fuck you,” he promises, “after I finger you.”

“I don’t wanna wait,” you whine as he kisses your neck. 

“I’ve got to prep you first, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you felt how wet I was earlier! I can take it.”

Vernon takes your hand and places it over his bulge, making you gasp. It’s hard to think with your warm hand wrapped around him, even through his underwear, but he pushes through it.

“I’m not trying to brag or be an asshole about it, I swear. It’s just, I really don’t want to hurt you. Okay?”

“Okay,” you repeat. 

Vernon resumes kissing your neck as one of his hands travels back in between your thighs. The other rests on your stomach, holding you in place. 

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties and teases you some more before finally slipping one of them inside you. You go practically limp in relief and Vernon can’t help but tease you some more. 

“You were aching for it, weren’t you?” he coos. You nod. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I tried!”

“Aw, baby. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

He adds another finger and nips lightly at a spot just beneath your jaw when you sigh happily. 

“Can I leave marks?” he asks, praying you’ll say yes because he’s pretty sure that bite will turn into a small bruise. 

“Yeah, do whatever you want,” you breathe. “I’ll wear turtlenecks to work. I don’t give a fuck.”

So he sucks at that same spot to make sure there will definitely be a hickey there in the morning. The idea of you walking around with visible proof of what he’s done to you makes Vernon’s cock twitch in his boxers. He sucks another hickey into your skin right below the first one, just for good measure. 

“C-can you put another one in?” you plead. 

How could he ever say no to you when you look so pretty and you sound so desperate? 

He adds a third and finds your clit with his thumb. He tests out a few patterns to see which you like best, settling on the one that has you chanting his name like a prayer. He thinks you might be getting close with the way you’re repeatedly clenching around his fingers but you reach out to stop him just when he has you on the edge. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” you assure him. “I didn’t want to cum yet.”

“Why?”

“Because I want my first time with you to be on your cock,” you explain. “Is that dumb?”

Vernon shakes his head so hard he makes himself dizzy. “No, not at all!” 

“Then can we fuck now?”

“Do you think you’re stretched enough?”

“Only one way to find out.”

-

You had gotten your underwear off and Vernon’s underwear off before realizing you needed a condom. Now you were both searching around Soonyoung’s room for one completely naked. 

“Found them!” Vernon exclaims, holding up a handful of assorted contraceptives.

They’d been in the bedside drawer of Soonyoung’s nightstand. Go figure. He lays them out on the bed and sighs loudly. 

“Doesn’t he have any normal ones?”

“What do you mean?” you ask and crane your neck to look over Vernon’s shoulder. 

“These are all... either flavored or textured! And this one fucking glows in the dark.”

“That could be fun,” you giggle.

“Yeah, I bet you’d love to ride a neon green dick, you little monster fucker.”

“Hey! Now is not the time to use my kinks against me.”

“Sorry, you’re right. But I think I’ll have to indulge that side of you another time when we’re not fucking in one of our best friends’ rooms.”

“Then what about this one?”

“That’s a joke, right?”

“Obviously,” you scoff. “I’m not trying to kill you.”

“Who thinks of making a peanut butter and jelly flavored condom in the first place?”

“Sick people, that’s who,” you answer, going back to sifting through the pile on the bed.

“I don’t think it’d kill me,” Vernon adds. “It’d probably just make my dick swell up really big- so maybe it wouldn’t be all bad.”

“No, because then we’d have to go to the ER and explain what happened.”

“Here, this one’s probably our best bet.” Vernon holds up the package for you to see. “Do you have any qualms against strawberry?”

“Nope. But it does make me want to suck your dick to see if it actually tastes like strawberry.”

“As much as I’d love that, I definitely won’t last if you do. And I really want to fuck you right now.” You pout. “What if I promise to buy more for us so you can try it another time?”

“Deal.”

“I’ll get a variety pack so you can suck me off to any fruit you want.”

“Wow, such a romantic.”

“You know me,” he jokes. 

You gather up the rest of the condoms and deposit them back in the drawer while Vernon rips open the foil and rolls the condom on. He’s still incredibly hard despite the small setback so it goes on without any trouble. 

There’s a blanket folded at the end of Soonyoung’s bed that you take and lay out on the floor. 

“I wouldn’t want my friends fucking on my bed,” you explain. 

“I don’t think he’d care,” Vernon replies. “He’d probably be happy for us. But you’re right, it’s the respectful thing to do.”

The respectful thing to do would be to wait until you get home, but you’ve already made it this far so....

Vernon sits on the floor with his back against the bed. He motions for you do join him and you do, slowly lowering yourself onto his lap. He’s careful to hold you up when he pushes the tip of his cock inside of you. He doesn’t want you to get overwhelmed and accidentally sink all the way down, making it even harder to adjust. 

“Fuck,” you whimper. 

“Is it too much?”

“N-no, feels good,” you assure him. “You’re just... fucking huge.”

He tries not to smirk when you say that. He knows he isn’t the biggest out there, especially where length is concerned, but he likes to think he’s pretty well off when it comes to girth. That’s why he was so insistent on fingering you before he fucked you. Why you’re having trouble taking just the tip. It’s certainly a stroke to his ego. Although, his ego might also be shattered in a few seconds if you don’t stop clenching around the head of his cock. 

“Take some deep breaths,” Vernon tries, using one of his hands to rub your back soothingly. 

It’s ironic coming from him, the guy who could barely flirt with you without having an existential crisis. 

But it seems to help because he feels you relax, some of the tension easing from your form. You sink down a little further, biting your lip to stifle any involuntary noises you might make. You’re so wet, so unbelievably turned on, your arousal is literally dripping down the shaft of Vernon’s cock, but you’re still struggling to fit him. 

“Are you still okay? We can stop if it’s hurting.”

You shake your head stubbornly. “No, I want to keep going.”

“Okay, well take your time. We’re not in a rush.”

“You might not be,” you mutter, “but I’m impatient.” 

Vernon laughs. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, baby, just take it easy. You’re doing so good for me.” 

He cranes his neck to kiss you, pulling your bottom lip from between your teeth with his own. Again, you relax a little more. 

“Can you-” you start to ask, still kissing him. 

He pulls away to be able to hear you. “Hm?”

“Can you rub my clit? I think that’ll help... oh, fuck.”

“There we go, angel. My angel.” 

His words make you moan and arch your back which pushes your tits into his face. Instinctively, he takes one of them into his mouth, using his free hand to play with the other. He works his tongue around your nipple, feeling the other harden against his palm.

“God, Vernon,” you mumble, “can I please move?”

He releases your boobs to nod and answer you. “Fuck yes.”

He has to close his eyes as you start to bounce on his cock because it already feels too good. Seeing your face contorted in pleasure would make him lose it. 

Then, there’s movement from outside the door, footsteps. Both of you freeze. Vernon’s eyes fly open to see yours wide with panic. He puts a finger to his lips and you nod in understanding. 

He can’t tell how many voices are in the hall, nor can he tell what they’re talking about, but he knows they’re right outside because he can see silhouettes of their shoes blocking the light coming in from under the door. 

It’s almost impossible for the two of you to stay still. You’re still so goddamn tight around his cock. And you’re still so fucking warm and wet and your cunt is pulsing around him uncontrollably-

Vernon whimpers. He fucking whimpers into your shoulder and you hear it. He can’t even focus on being mortified because he has to put all of his focus into not rutting into you and not cumming super fucking fast. 

He needs whoever’s outside to leave and he needs them to leave now. Thankfully, they must hear his internal pleas- or maybe they heard his external whimper, because the voices disappear down the hall a couple of beats later. 

He lets out a sigh of relief thinking he’s in the clear when he hears you sniffle, almost like you’re crying... then he jerks his head up to see that’s exactly what’s happening and panics. 

“Oh my god, what’s wrong? What hurts?” He’s frantic, hands all over you. 

“Nothing hurts-”

“Don’t lie to me! You’re crying! Here, lift up. I’m so sorry-”

“Vernon!” you shout. 

“What!”

“I wasn’t lying.”

He cocks his head to the side, trying to understand. “But...”

“It just happens sometimes. It’s involuntary but it means I’m feeling good. I promise.”

“This has happened to you before?”

“Yeah, mostly when I’m alone.”

He wants to know more. Wants to know what it is that triggers it. But now isn’t exactly the best time so he files the questions away for later and concentrates on... making you cry harder. 

It doesn’t take him long to figure out that he actually really likes watching you cry (in this context specifically). He’s never elicited such an extreme reaction from someone before. 

He catches a tear on his thumb and sucks it off, making your hips stutter. You cup his face and kiss him hard. It’s messy and salty and Jesus Christ, Vernon has never been so hard in his fucking life. 

“I’m close,” you warn him. 

“Thank god,” he laughs, kissing you again. 

He starts rubbing your clit to help you get there and you’re falling apart in a matter of seconds. You bite his shoulder to muffle a scream as you cum, sending him over the edge with you. 

You’re both breathless when you finally come down from your highs. Your legs are shaky as you climb off of his lap. They’re still trembling when you collapse next to him on the blanket. 

“Shit, that was good.”

“Yeah? Wanna go again?”

“Of course.”

“Give me like... ten minutes,” Vernon sighs as he lays down beside you. “Maybe fifteen.”

You laugh. “But doesn’t Spider-man have a super short refractory period?”

He gives you a look. “Not in this universe.”

happy birthday bestie i hope you enjoyed mwah &lt;3

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[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.”

---

house warming (k.mg)

wc. 756

genre. smut

tags. minors dni! mingyu x fem!reader, established relationship, cockwarming

a/n. i have been writing this for like 9 months and i really wanted to make it longer but i just want to post it because mentally i can't complete it, maybe there'll be a part two (most likely not) but yay!!! cockwarming mingyu yasss

more of my work

you really should have planned better.

it was like everything that could possibly go wrong did. you imagined that by now you would be wrapped up in a large, cozy comforter nestled on your cloud soft king size bed in your already furnished new house. but the movers got the wrong date down, so now your house was bare save for the mess of cardboard boxes in every room and the lumpy air mattress in the middle of your lonely bedroom.

the room lacked the warmth you had hoped for, and the chilly air seeped through the gaps. and to make matters worse, you found out that your heater was broken, in the dead of winter. 

it was too much to manage in one night, so you decided to unpack your closet and go to sleep. everything else was tomorrow’s problem.

but in the middle of the night, you stir awake, a kink in your neck reminding you of your less than ideal sleeping arrangement. you turn to the man lying beside you, who is restlessly moving around.

“what are you doing?” you groggily snap at him.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles. “”i’m just really cold.”

“there are extra blankets in the closet, i think.” you suggest, rolling over, trying to lull yourself back to sleep.

“i wanna feel you, baby.” he whispers, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. you roll away from him, more focused on checking your phone, causing him to emit a low groan.

“no, baby, come back here.” he pleads, drawing out the last syllable of his sentence.

“mingyu, it’s two in the morning.” you retort, the harsh blue glow of your phone illuminating the room’s bare bones.

“i’m so cold,” he whines again, pulling the comforter over the two of you.

“baby, check in the closet for extra blankets.”

“but you’re so warm here,” he pulls you closer to him. he snuggles into your neck, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“god, we need to call a repair person to fix that stupid heater,” you groan when you think about everything that you need to do.

“we can do that in the morning,” he says, as he traces kisses along your jawline to your neck. “but in the meantime, we can keep each other warm.”

“mingyu, babe, i’m so tired, and the movers are coming at ten and we still have so much to do.”

“baby, baby,” he shushes you, wrapping you in his arms. “just relax.”

“i’m trying to go back to sleep.”

“please,” mingyu begs. “baby, it’s cold outside. i just want to feel your warmth.” you feel a shiver down your spine when he begins to nibble on your ear. “you don’t have to do anything, i just wanna be inside you.”

he slides your sweatpants down. slowly guiding his cock to your entrance, he rubs it up and down your slit. his tip pokes around your entrance and you push your hips back, encouraging him to enter into your tight cunt. his hands grip your hips tightly, his face screwing up in pleasure as he slowly pushes. you suck your breath as he bottoms out. “sorry,” he mumbles.

“it’s fine,” you sigh, melting into his embrace. mingyu, still mumbling sorries, moves around until he finally feels comfortable. when he does, his head returns to the nook of your neck. the two of you lie with your figures entwined, your limbs interwoven in an affectionate dance. your head rests against his chest, his heartbeat beneath you serving as a lullaby. his cold hands slide underneath your sweatshirt, and you clench around him.

“fuck,” he groans lowly and now it’s your turn to profusely apologize. “it’s fine, honey, just give me a moment to calm down.” you give him a moment before you place your hands on top of his arms where they rested at your waist. this was supposed to be an innocent moment – as innocent as it could be. it was supposed to be an opportunity to feel close to each other, but, as you’d expect with your boyfriend, innocence seemed to take a backseat to a different kind of intimacy.

slowly he rocks his hips against yours, prompting a soft moan to escape from your lips. “gyu,” you warn him slightly, but he ignores you, his hands slipping down to your hips to pull you closer to him. “what happened to “i just want to feel you”?”

“m sorry,” he moans out, “you know i can’t help it. you just feel so good.”

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