Writes And Reads

https://unhelpfulguidetome.carrd.co Masterlist link below bc I don’t know how to do it nicely like the cool writers at.tumblr.com/sevenpersona/masterlist/s88az19u6t3a

[sevenpersona]

Hi guys I have a favour if you could please help! I'm in my final year of university and as part of one of my subjects we need to survey some people on their experiences at car dealerships and what people go to dealerships for e.g. to buy, confirm what car, test drive etc. If you can please fill out this survey I would really appreciate it! Thank you so much! AUSTRALIA ONLY PLEASE 🙏

Autosdirect Consumer Survey

[sevenpersona]

Idk if this has been talked about before and also FUCK that cunt JK Rowling but yk when dumbledore has to drink that potion in book 6 where it makes the drinker very thirsty surrounded by a lake full of inferi, did it not occur to them to bring a muggle water bottle? Or if there was like a spell/ward against bringing in water like there was with using the water spell, couldn't they have like bought a reusable water bottle slapped some runes on that bitch and problem solved?

[woncheolisms]

look after you. (hansol vernon chwe x reader)

summary: courting gifts can be anything. a pretty necklace. a bracelet. maybe even a ring, if you’re bold. but vernon gives you socks, and you don’t know what to make of them.

pairing: alpha!vernon x omega!reader

word count: 7.2k

warnings: omegaverse au, abo dynamics, fluff, some humor, best friend!omega!seungkwan, misunderstandings but not angsty, mentions of heat and pre heat, smut, nsfw, fingering, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, knotting.

Hansol Vernon Chwe takes being an alpha very seriously. But not in the way conventional alphas would.

For example, when someone asks Vernon what he thinks an ideal alpha should be, he has some points that he will count off, a checklist of sorts in his head, requirements of being a good alpha, in his opinion. An alpha has to be strong, not physically, but mentally. He needs to be reliable, stable, someone the people around him can lean on. An alpha has to be intelligent and aware. He has to anticipate his omega’s needs and provide accordingly. Not just financially, but with thoughtful actions. An alpha must be nurturing, and he knows this is the point everyone around him gets hung up on. ‘Nurturing’? That’s typically a term associated with omegas. But Vernon stands by it. Alphas have to care, to be there emotionally, to make sure their omegas have them not just physically, but to love them for their emotions as well, to shift and release pheromones that will calm their omegas. Alphas have to be providers past the actual, financial implications of the word.

So Vernon vows to himself that if he ever gets the opportunity to be an alpha for someone, he would be the one that fits his exacting, rigid standards. That opportunity comes when he meets you.

You’re Seungkwan’s friend, which isn’t surprising. Pretty much anyone Vernon knows, he knows because they are Seungkwan’s friend. Vernon can’t understand how in hell Seungkwan can keep up with such a large friend circle. He knows everybody. But it helps indirectly because Vernon doesn’t go out of his way to meet people, so Seungkwan almost acts like the proxy for his social life.

That’s exactly how he met you.

Vernon almost didn’t go, since it was just supposed to be some kind of game night for Seungkwan’s study group. But Seungkwan insisted, really insisted, and Vernon had bailed on the last two social events Seungkwan asked him to come with, so he had to give in. He’s so glad that he did.

Just the scent of you makes him stiffen, which is very unlike him. Vernon isn’t usually much affected by omegas, hell, his best friend is an omega. But you smell so sweet, in this light and fresh way that almost energises him. Your smile is so bright as you introduce yourself, hair swaying when your head moves, and Vernon’s fingers twitch with the urge to touch. He has to visibly shake his head and blink, quickly introducing himself and shutting up so that he doesn’t act like a fool. You’re so pretty, and your voice is so calming and friendly. Vernon has this deep feeling in his chest that he wants to stay around you. Right by your side.

He hangs out with you twice more after that, all in big groups, but he manages to get near you anyhow. You’re so interesting to him. You talk about your major with a passion he can never muster, a fire in your eyes, your long term plans laid out already. You’re energetic, not as much as Seungkwan, but you know how to match the omega’s energy. And you’re also quieter with Vernon, like you understand that he’s laid back and deals with things differently. Only someone truly empathetic and kind can be like that, and Vernon’s heart soars. You’re so perfect, you’re perfect, and he will be damned if he won’t be the perfect alpha for you.

And so Vernon makes a resolve. He will prove himself. He will be the one for you, to take care of you the way someone with your spirit deserves. And he is absolutely not the kind to just pussyfoot around. So Vernon watches. Vernon observes.

When fall starts bleeding into winter, he notices how you love to be bundled up. The biggest coats and jackets, the most layers of anyone else in the group.

“Cold?” He asks when you show up at the campus gates where everyone agreed to meet so you can go to dinner together. You give him a sheepish smile and nod under your heavy hoodie.

“I get cold very easily.” You admit. “My hands and feet specifically.”

Vernon knows exactly how to fix it.

That night, he rummages through his closet and finds three sets of wool socks. His grandmother knits so many for him and his sister, and keeps sending them. Vernon wears one pair and keeps the rest for later use when his first ones are worn out. He swears by them, because she uses the finest wool for knitting. He contemplates between a navy blue pair and a grey one, ultimately going for the blue. He hopes you will like them.

When he finds you in the hallways the next morning, just before classes, he feels like his heart will beat out of his chest. He’s so nervous, and he worried himself sick last night about whether or not you would accept his gift. He wants to be there for you, to provide for you and understand your needs and take care of you. To be your alpha. This is it, the big moment.

He pulls you aside and away from the prying eyes of other students before slowly pulling out the small bag he put the socks in. You take it curiously, peering inside.

“You said your feet get really cold.” He quickly explains. “These are merino wool. My grandma makes them. They’re very warm, I promise.”

You look so surprised, blinking at the item in your hand. He watches your thumb run over them, feeling how soft they are.

“A-are you sure, Vernon?” You ask. “I was just complaining about the weather, I didn’t really think….”

Vernon immediately nods. He’s so sure. There’s no one else for him except you. You look a little hesitant, Vernon holds his breath, and then finally, you nod.

The air escapes his chest with a loud whoosh, and joy takes his place. He nods, more jerky this time, trying to tamp down his giddy smile.

“Thank you so much.” You look truly touched at the gesture, and that satisfies the alpha inside him. He took care of you, and you accepted his courting gift. You want to give him a chance. And as Vernon looks into your bright, warm eyes, he’s determined to never, ever let you down.

Vernon feels like he’s on cloud nine for the rest of the day, and when he lays in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, he’s already planning other ways to convince you that he is the perfect alpha for you. He has watched you intensely (in a non-creepy way), and he knows what habits you have, and how he can enrich your life with his own presence. His top priority is giving you as much love and care as he possibly can. His phone buzzes beside his pillow, breaking him from his thoughts. His heart kicks hard when he realises who the message is from.

[you]: i love the socks vernon thank you so much!

He grins so wide he feels like his cheeks might split. Your response encourages him so much. His alpha hums, settling like a warm weight in his chest. He goes to sleep with that same, stupid grin on his face.

Vernon did believe he was good friends with you, but you warm up to him even more after that. You love to talk and catch up whenever you meet him. You love the cat videos he sends you, and when you realise he likes them, you send them to him as well. He feels particularly giddy when you caption them with something like ‘reminded me of you’. You’re so wonderful, and Vernon can’t help that deep seated catch in his stomach that tells him he is falling in love.

He doesn’t mind.

But Vernon is still courting you, and he takes being an alpha to you very seriously. He goes shopping with his sister for the weekend and picks out one of those thermoses that keep liquids warm for hours, and not the dysfunctional, knock off kind that just look pretty. Sophia thinks it’s too plain, so Vernon frets over that, but he wants this to be practical, something you really need. This is about your comfort, and he won’t compromise on that. It makes Sophia snort.

“I’m surprised you managed to court her. With socks of all things.”

That makes him blink. “She loved them. She uses them all the time.”

Sophia only laughs.

Vernon fills the thermos with your preferred preparation of coffee on Monday and gives it to you when he finds you on a picnic table on campus grounds before your first class.

“It keeps liquid warm for at least 10 hours.” He explains himself. “It’s got thicker insulation, see? I looked it up before I bought it.”

You stare at it. “Vernon, this must have cost a lot-”

He immediately cuts you off. “Don’t worry about the price. I just hope it’s good and you use it.”

You give him a wide smile, biting your bottom lip and avoiding his eyes. Are you feeling shy? Vernon’s alpha soars.

“Thank you.” You mumble. Vernon shakes his head.

“Stop saying thank you.” It’s my job. I want to take care of you.

You only let out a little laugh and nod. Vernon feels the urge to lean over the table and kiss you. It takes everything in him to not do exactly that.

The holidays come and go. Vernon talks to you often, even when you leave the city to spend the days off with your family. You wish him a happy new year, asking him about his resolutions. Vernon’s wants to say ‘to make you my omega’ but he holds back. He doesn’t want to come off too strong and push you away. So he keeps it silently in his chest, and instead asks for yours.

[you]: definitely to hit the gym. i need to get better about being healthy :(

Vernon is already planning.

When he sees you next time, it’s because you come to the dorm room to see Seungkwan. He isn’t there, but Vernon is, so you offer to wait for your friend. Vernon is eager to let you in, patting his bed down and quickly tidying up a bit. He doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob.

(He isn’t. But he also doesn’t want you to think he is.)

“I got you something.” He starts, rummaging through the bag he put your stuff in. You raise an amused eyebrow.

“Again? You really shouldn’t have…”

Vernon shakes it off. “It’s nothing much, I promise.” He walks to you with what he got.

“It’s an athletic band, for when you go to the gym.” He explains. “I wanted you to have your own. And here,” He puts everything in your lap, “electrolyte pouches. This is the good stuff that athletes use. Mingyu told me about them. The convenience store stuff isn’t very healthy.”

Your mouth is agape, and you let out an incredulous laugh. “You really go out of your way, don’t you?”

I do. Vernon wants to say. Because it’s true. He won’t spare any expense, any effort, when it comes to you. He hopes that these attempts show them to you. This is what the courting period is all about. He wants to give you proof that he is well capable of being everything you will ever want and need.

“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s so soft, so laced with warmth, and Vernon’s alpha almost preens. Almost. It’s rare for alphas to react like that, but for Vernon, this is acceptance on another level. He vowed to himself that he would be your biggest support, your only one. And he’s succeeding. He’s well on his way to being your everything, just like how you’re his everything already. He gives himself maybe a couple of more months, then he will officially ask you to be his.

He’s generally a patient guy, but he really can’t wait.

…………………………………

You have a dilemma, and you really don’t know anyone who you can talk to about it except Boo Seungkwan.

Initially, you wanted to hold off on it. You’ve known Vernon for a while now, and you know how genuine he is as a person. He is truly one of the people you trust the most, because he’s so attentive and kind. Your omega likes him too, maybe a little too much, and you always have to remind yourself that he’s just a friend, nothing more. But you can’t help being enamoured by him. He’s so different from how you are, but you gel with him so well. There’s something so charming about him, you can’t help but be sucked in.

But Vernon’s brand of weird might be getting a little…. too weird.

When he first gave you socks that his grandmother knitted, you were shocked, pleasantly so. You were half inclined to refuse, but they were genuinely so soft and Vernon looked like he really wanted you to have them, so you accepted. You did have a cold feet problem, and you complained to him about it. He happened to have a solution in his home, so he got it for you. It was very nice of him.

But then he got you that really expensive thermos. You know it was expensive because you looked it up afterwards, cursing under your breath. You love your friends and would help them any way you can, but this felt like too much. Vernon didn’t care though, adamant on you having it. And you didn’t have the heart to refuse when he kept insisting. And goddamn, it did keep your coffee warm and cozy for hours, so you could happily sip on it for a long time. You still use that thing every day.

Then there was the little stuff, like electrolyte packets and a gym headband, or the muscle patches he got you when you complained about being sore (it wasn’t even that bad, you just like to complain). It seems that no matter what you say, Vernon is always listening, like he wants any opportunity to make your life better. It warms your heart, it makes your omega keen, but Vernon is swimming very close to dangerous waters. All this is doing is making you more and more inclined to him, his thoughtfulness and care makes you want to melt right into him. Because at the end of the day, he’s an alpha, and you want him more and more with every passing day.

As you said, dangerous waters.

Things really take a turn when he shows up at your dorm with toothpaste, the same brand you use on a daily basis. You stare at it.

“Yours was running out last time I was here.” He says, and he’s so nonchalant about it, like friends just notice something like dwindling toothpaste and buy it for you. You’re so flabbergasted that you don’t even think of rejecting it, just thanking him quietly instead. He nods, smiling.

Okay, you need to talk to Seungkwan.

You text Seungkwan about meeting you for lunch at a café outside campus. It’s not too far, but enough that you know you won’t run into any of your mutual friends there. You really don’t want to talk to anyone who won’t help you, and while you’re very social on most days, you’re in no mood to deal with people right now. You ignore the urge to stay home in bed, because you really need to do something about this Vernon situation, so you push yourself to go, despite the resistance in your body.

Seungkwan just thinks it’s a normal catchup meal when he greets you, but when you start to slowly tell him about what Vernon has been doing for the last few months, his jaw just drops more and more, his plate completely forgotten.

“You’re not serious.” He mutters when you finish.

“I am.” You sigh. “And I love it, you know? I do. It makes me feel….. some type of way. But that’s why you have to tell him to stop. I can’t keep assuming that he’s doing it for some other reason. My heart can’t take it.”

You feel intense emotions rise up in you, and you have to swallow them down. It surprises you a little, how heated and charged you feel, but you push the thought out of your mind, trying to focus. Seungkwan’s face is pinched in thought, but you can see in real time as it smooths in realisation.

“Oh my god, wait.”

You watch him curiously. “What?”

But Seungkwan doesn’t say, shaking his head. Then, he goes back to his food.

“I’ll talk to him, okay?”

You’re a little confused at the weird reaction, but you nod. You’re already feeling a little tired, even though you haven’t even been out of the house that long. You wish you had just stayed in and put this off for another day.

“Just be nice about it. I don’t want him to feel bad. He’s been doing such kind things for me, I don’t want to come off as ungrateful.”

But Boo Seungkwan has a whole other storm brewing in his head as he waves goodbye to you and heads to his dorm. He thinks he has a pretty good idea about what the hell Vernon has been doing, but he needs to be one hundred percent sure about it first.

Vernon is sitting at his desk, headphones on, when Seungkwan taps him on the shoulder. The alpha turns around. Seungkwan decides not to beat around the bush.

“So I was on a lunch date with Y/N.”

Seungkwan can see the exact moment Vernon’s face lights up. He sighs internally. His suspicions are true.

“How is she?” Vernon asks.

Seungkwan plops himself down on the edge of the bed. “Wouldn’t you know that? Since she’s your omega?”

Vernon huffs out a laugh. “She’s not my omega yet.”

Yet. “But you are courting her.” He doesn’t frame it as a question.

Vernon nods. Seungkwan wants to groan.

“And it’s going well?”

“It is.”

“Right. Sure. It’s going so well that the omega you are courting doesn’t even know she’s being courted.”

Vernon pauses, blinking at Seungkwan owlishly. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Vernon’s mouth opens and closes a few times, not unlike a fish. “I don’t understand.”

Seungkwan feels a horrific laugh bubble up in his chest, but he doesn’t say anything. He watches Vernon’s face go through a million emotions, confusion being the predominant one.

“I gave her a courting gift. She accepted.”

“You gave her socks.” Seungkwan deadpans.

Vernon frowns. “She needed them. She told me herself, her feet are always cold.”

Seungkwan groans at that, putting his head in his hands. “Hansol….”

Seungkwan laughs then, but Vernon doesn’t find the situation funny at all. A mild panic is curling in his chest, his mind racing. Did you really not know? Were you really clueless? He hadn’t said it explicitly, sure, but he was certain you got his meaning. He was taking care of you, showing you he could be a good alpha. Was he not clear enough?

Seungkwan’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “A courting gift, especially the first one, has to be something romantic. Like a bracelet or a necklace. Jewellery.”

Vernon puts his head in his hands, his elbows on the table. “I- I just thought it would be better if I gave practical gifts….”

Seungkwan huffs out a laugh. “Practical gifts are great, but fucking toothpaste, man?”

Vernon wants to bash his head into a wall. He looks at Seungkwan with pleading eyes.

“What did she say? Does she not like me?”

Seungkwan shakes his head immediately. “The opposite actually. She thinks you only see her as a friend, and she feels bad about liking you more than that because of how considerate you are.”

Vernon can’t believe his ears. He can’t. You think he’s not interested? He couldn’t have made his interest any clearer. But obviously, he went about it the wrong way, and now you feel shitty because of him. Vernon’s alpha growls, disapproving. He doesn’t like this feeling, knowing that he is responsible for any negative emotion you experience.

He needs to fix this.

Seungkwan doesn’t stop him as he tugs his shoes on, grabbing his phone before he leaves. He’s contemplating on sending you a text that he’s on his way to you, but he remembers the exchange you had with Seungkwan, and he fears that his text might make you spiral. So he just sets off, hoping he can catch you when you’re not too busy so you can talk it out. He always believed he didn’t want to rush you, but if it’s causing miscommunication, then he needs to make his intentions crystal clear.

He reaches your door in record time. You don’t have a dorm mate thankfully, since your last one dropped out and a new one wasn’t appointed to you. This is good, because it means you two can talk openly. He knocks and waits, shifting on his feet. He feels anxious and uncertain, and he prays he hasn’t ruined anything between you two, especially after he tried so hard to make everything go right.

You’re not answering. Vernon tries again, wondering if maybe you have headphones on and can’t hear him. Maybe he should text you that he’s right outside. He’s just contemplating on it when the door swings open.

You have a scowl on your face, lips pulled into a pout as you stick your head out. Cute. Vernon gives you a sheepish smile when recognition dawns on your features.

“Vernon.” Your voice is raspy. He shuffles.

“Sorry. Were you sleeping?”

You blink a few times, rapid movements as if trying to clear your vision. Vernon shifts again, feeling restless. He’s been feeling restless ever since he first knocked on your door. He scents the air instinctively. You smell…. just as you always do. Maybe sweeter? He can’t place it. Something is off, not in a bad way. But he can’t put his finger on it.

“This isn’t a good time.” You say, and your voice is still strained and tired. Vernon’s early anxiety is gone. He feels concern sting at his chest.

“Are you okay?” He has to ask, because a voice inside him is telling him that you’re not. You pause before answering, and it’s a little too long for his taste.

“I’m fine. Just tired. Can we talk in a few days?”

A few days? Vernon’s eyebrows furrow. His nose won’t stop twitching because of the alteration in your scent. He watches you, really watches you, the barely noticeable line of sweat on your hairline, your breathing just slightly more rapid than usual, how you’re gripping the doorframe like it’s holding half your weight. Vernon’s alpha bristles.

“Pre-heat?” He croaks.

You swallow tightly, he can see it with the way your throat bobs. When you don’t deny it, his alpha howls. His fingers twitch. It takes everything in him to not reach for you.

“So, later?” You ask again. He blinks.

“I was courting you.” He blurts. “The gifts. I- I thought I was being clear about it. But I wasn’t. That’s my fault, not yours. I should’ve said it, I should’ve gotten you something prettier or nicer. But I didn’t.”

Your jaw drops at his words. Silence hangs in the air for a few seconds.

“You like me?” Your voice is so tiny, so unsure. Vernon wishes he could rip the heart out of his chest and give it to you to prove that he doesn’t just like you, but that he’s in love with you. But he settles for better words.

“I wanted to show that I could take care of you. That I could be a good alpha and love you the way you deserve.”

Your eyes are bright. Your mouth is slightly open in an ‘O’ shape. You don’t say anything for a long while. Vernon feels despair sink in his head.

“I’m sorry.”

You seem to break from your trance. Your eyebrows draw together. “What are you sorry for?”

Before he can reply, your voice dies and you wince. Vernon feels his chest squeeze, hands reaching out before he can stop himself when he sees your poster hunch forward a little. He hovers uncertainly over you. Being in your space makes your scent get denser, heavier. Vernon grits his teeth hard. His brain feels like it’s short circuiting.

“You should get back inside.” He chokes out. “You shouldn’t be standing up right now. Your cramps will get worse.”

You don’t reply, almost like your mind is fogged. Vernon makes up his mind, very carefully placing his hands on your elbows so he can shuffle both of you backwards into the room.

It smells even more intensely like you inside. Vernon’s eyelids flutter, and he has to stop himself from breathing in deep. He gently guides you to the bed and you follow without much hesitation. You sigh into the pillows once your body relaxes, and Vernon pulls the blanket over you. He notices just then that you’re wearing the navy blue socks he gave you. His heart skips a beat as he leans beside the edge of the bed.

“Do you need anything?” He tries to make a mental list. He’s never really helped an omega with their heat before. When Seungkwan goes into heat, university policy is to leave the dorm and room with someone else for the duration, so he just stays with another friend. But Vernon isn’t a complete idiot, so he thinks. Painkillers, a warm water bottle, sustenance of some kind, something high calorie-

“Just stay here with me.” You pipe up. He freezes.

“I can’t.” He tries to say as placatingly as possible. “Your heat will hit soon.”

You blink up at him, and he notes the thin, shiny layer covering your eyes. “So?”

He stares. “So….. I can’t stay.” Or I will lose my mind.

“Yes, you can. You said you wanted to show me you can take care of me, right?” Your eyelids hang low, eyes only half open as you peer up at him. “So take care of me, alpha.”

Vernon thinks his head is spinning. No, it’s the room. The room is spinning. He is completely still in place, like a statue, because he feels that if he moves, he will sway and topple over. His alpha is howling, a chorus of ‘yes, yes, yes’ that chokes any other thought in his brain. Instead, he clenches his jaw hard and reaches his hand up to rest it carefully on your head. He brushes your hair back slowly. You sigh at his mere touch. You’re heated, already almost burning up.

“Are you sure?” He whispers. “You’re close to heat. You can’t be saying this just because your omega wants an alpha here with you.”

You let out a small laugh. “I’m in pre-heat only. I know what I’m doing. I’ve….. liked you for a while now.”

Vernon can feel how hot the back of his neck is. “Really?”

You nod. He lets out a shaky breath. He can’t believe his ears, almost like someone went in there and scraped all his brains out, leaving his head hollow and light. But his chest is so full that he feels like it will explode.

“Okay.” He says with an air of finality. “I’ll take care of you, I promise. You won’t want for anything. I’m here.”

…………………………….

You don’t really remember much of your pre-heats, generally. Most of the time, you spend it dozing in and out of sleep, eating whatever you’ve stashed in your room beforehand. This one is the same. You’re very sleepy, so you hunker down on your bed and nap as much as you can. The difference this time is that you’re coaxed awake every few hours by an alpha hanging over your bed, helping you sit up and feeding you small bites of warm food instead of your usual packaged stuff.

Vernon leaves whenever you fall asleep, coming back with stuff he picks up from restaurants, all rich and dense food that puts you in a good mood and makes you sleep longer. Two nights after he first showed up, you feel uncomfortable again, so you ask for his hoodie. He doesn’t hesitate for two seconds before he pulls it off and tugs it onto you.

“Better?” He asks as you sink into bed again. You hum in relief. It feels amazing to be surrounded by his scent like this. Your omega settles and your discomfort wanes.

“Much.” You reply. He nods. You watch him putter around, cleaning up plates and looking at how much water you still have. You know that you’re only settling with his hoodie temporarily. As your heat hits, his clothes won’t be enough. You will want him. All of him.

Your face flames at the thought. You really never could’ve imagined that Vernon would want to help you like this. You always assumed he was being a good friend, hence why you wanted Seungkwan to stop him. Because you were getting too attached to him, and you didn’t want to set yourself up for future hurt. Turns out, he was courting you, in some characteristically Vernon way of his. And in a way….. it worked. It made you love him more.

Days pass in your pre-heat haze. When you wake up one day, your back drenched in sweat and your heart racing so fast it makes you pant heavily, you realise you’ve hit your heat. You sit up slowly, struggling to unfold your tense body. Vernon isn’t here, probably out to get more supplies or a change of clothes for himself. Your omega whines. You’re wet between the thighs already. You rub them desperately together. Why is your alpha not back yet?

You’re just psyching yourself up to leave the bed when the door to your dorm swings open and Vernon steps inside, arms weighed by bags. He blinks, surprised to see you awake.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” He asks, pushing the door shut with his heel and placing the bags on your study table. You let out a shaky breath.

“Alpha.”

Something in your voice seemingly registers, because his head jerks up. You can feel his nose twitch when you shift, throwing the blanket off your sweaty body. Your scent hits him. You try to shuffle closer to him.

“Need you, please.”

Vernon wastes no time in toeing off his shoes and walking closer to the bed, settling on it and letting you come to him. You crawl into his lap, sighing in relief when your skin meets his. He still hasn’t taken his jacket off, so you tug impatiently at it. He obliges by discarding it, leaving him in a simple shirt and jeans.

You tuck your head against his neck like it’s second nature, like you’ve done it a million times before. You nose at his scent glands, eager to have it invade your senses straight from the source. You feel his hand run comforting circles over your sweaty back.

“You’re drenched.” He murmurs, tugging at your shirt a little where it’s sticking to your skin. You huff.

“‘M hot.”

“Do you want a change of clothes?”

No. I want you to take them off entirely.

You don’t say it, just biting your lip and nosing at his neck more. You know Vernon is here to help with your heat, but you suddenly feel so shy asking him to. God, this was your idea, and you can’t even bring yourself to verbalise it.

When your silence stretches too long, you feel a soft hand on your jaw, nudging your head up. Your eyes meet wide, brown ones.

“I’m here for whatever you need. Just ask, okay? I can’t know unless you tell me.”

He’s right. He’s being so logical and so sweet about it while you’re wallowing. So you nod, mustering up the confidence to peer up at him and say, “I want you.”

Vernon nods. “Okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

When he leans down to softly brush his lips to yours, your omega whines. You inhale shakily and press closer, kissing him properly. He takes it so slow, like he’s savoring every second of it, running his hands carefully, reverently, down your sides before sliding under the hem of your shirt. His skin is so cool against your heated body, and it’s a welcome relief. You sigh into his mouth.

Vernon grips just a little tighter, your flesh dimpling under his touch. It makes your body shift forward, your core grazing over his jean-clad thigh. Your breath hitches as pleasure zips up from your core.

That sets a charged, lazy rhythm. Vernon guides the movement of your body with a firm grip on your hips, back and forth, back and forth, your cunt sliding over his thigh. The rough material of his jeans provides delicious friction, while your flimsy shorts might as well not be there. You’re soaked through, and if you looked down, you’re sure you would see a dark patch on his jeans. He seems to not care about the fact that you’re ruining his clothes. He moans into your mouth, tenses his thigh periodically in a way that sends a pleasurable jolt up your spine. Your legs are spread wide apart, your slit open, pressing your most sensitive parts to him. He kisses you senseless as the pressure in your core gets tighter and tighter, your movements more rushed, more sloppy. He bites your bottom lip the exact moment your orgasm hits, washing over your body like a tidal wave, leaving you moaning and shaking, Vernon’s sure grip the only thing holding you steady.

“Good. Good girl.” He whispers into your raw, bitten lips. “Perfect. There you go.”

Your trembling body goes limp against his figure. He holds you there for a bit, letting you come down. You process what just happened. This was not what you expected, though you’re not complaining at all. It was so hot.

You’re shifted backwards slowly. Vernon lays you on the bed and presses a sweet kiss on your cheek, pulling back.

“You really should change clothes now, sweetheart.” He says. You giggle breathlessly and nod.

Vernon finds a fresh pair of shorts and a loose shirt. He helps you change. You really don’t feel hesitant about being naked in front of him. Hell, you just rode his thigh and came all over him. Speaking of, his jeans are ruined, you can see it a mile off. Vernon excuses himself to the bathroom once you’re settled, and when he emerges later, he’s dressed in sweats.

You eat the food he brought, more like he feeds you and you let him. It feels nice, being pampered and taken care of like this. You say as much to him. He lets out an airy laugh and shakes his head.

“That’s what my intention was the entire time.” He confesses. “I wanted to be a good alpha to you. And in my opinion, a good alpha is someone who knows how to take care of his omega. I was trying to prove that.”

You smile, watching him set the empty plate aside and pour you a glass of water.

“I already know you’re a good person, Vernon. You didn’t have to do all that.”

He shakes his head. “There’s a difference between being a good person and a good alpha. You needed to know I would be there through thick and thin, and I could anticipate your needs and make your life easier. To be loved is to be known, isn’t that what they say?”

You stare at him, speechless. Your heart squeezes in your chest, and you try to look for words, anything you can say to tell him how much this means to you, how much he means to you. But you’re tired, and your heat is messing with your head, and you can’t think of anything that will properly get your meaning across. So you put down the glass in your hand and lean forward, laying a kiss on his lips.

You feel him stiffen only briefly, kissing you back when he realises what is happening. You feel his hand cup your cheek tenderly, slotting his lips deeper into yours. You sigh into this kiss, kicking forward to once again settle in his lap like you did previously. It’s almost like instinct. It’s comforting for you, and with the way his free arm curls around you, you know he likes it too.

You don’t know if it’s your heat, or just the fact that it’s Vernon, but the air charges quickly, and the kiss deepens. Your bodies undulate together, small moans and sighs until you can feel a familiar ache in your loins, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Alpha.” You whine into him.

“I’ve got you.” He reassures you, like he always has. The world tilts, and you’re laid back on the mattress, his torso pressing you down deliciously. His mouth doesn’t leave you for a second, nipping and kissing, before his tongue licks into your mouth. Your pussy clenches around nothing.

Fingers dip into the waistband of your pajamas, tugging them off in one smooth motion. Fingers prod at your entrance, and you pull your knees up and apart. You’re already so wet, so ready, that he slides two fingers in immediately with next to no resistance.

“Fuck.” Vernon groans at the exact time you gasp. His fingers curl, pressing and rubbing, looking for that one spot. You moan and jerk.

“You’re so wet. You’re gonna ruin the sheets.”

He pulls back enough to look down at you. You watch in awe as the corner of his lip quirks up with a smirk you have never seen before. He looks so sexy like this, it makes your head spin.

“Soak my hand. Wanna feel it.”

You shriek when he presses into your soft spot, back arching off the bed. He coos, watching you with half lidded eyes, biting his bottom lip. You burn under his gaze, but it feels so good. Your orgasm is building up frighteningly quick, and before you know it, your legs are seizing.

You babble incoherently, trying to warn him, one hand fisting his shirt while the other tugs at the sheets. The knot in your core is so tight, ready to burst any moment, and he says the final words to get you there.

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl. Do what I said. Soak my hand.”

And you do, stars bursting in your vision at the same time that the knot implodes. You can hear how wet the sounds get, sloppy and filthy enough to make you flush. But you’re too preoccupied by how good it feels, washing over your entire body in waves. You know, even before you are fully down, that you are now addicted to this feeling, to him. His scent, heavy and reassuring and endlessly horny, you can tell. And his presence, sure and all encompassing. Your hands, still trembling, reach down, pawing and scratching at his pants.

“Alpha.” You’re surprised you can speak. “Off. Need- need you. Your knot. Please.”

Vernon doesn’t hesitate. With a few precise motions, his pants are pulled off and his shirt follows. You run your hands hungrily over his lean figure. He’s cut. You can trace the muscles, and it makes your mouth water. He’s so hard already, long and veiny and throbbing, and your pussy clenches pathetically. Your hips jerk.

Vernon wraps a hand around his shaft, pumping a few times. You see the precum leak from his tip and dribble down. Your legs twitch when he rubs his mushroom head up and down over your slit, gathering your slick. He groans.

“Look at that. You’re so ready for me, aren’t you?” You watch him bite his lip. You buck up again. Finally, he guides the head down, teasing your rim for a few seconds before sliding the head inside.

Your jaw goes slack as he slides in, inch by glorious inch, until you feel the base of his pelvis meet your skin. You can feel him throb even inside you, your walls squeezing and releasing over and over to try and get used to the massive intrusion. Above you, Vernon’s face is pinched, and he curses loudly.

“Don’t- please don’t do that.” His voice is strained. “I’m gonna cum too soon.”

You can’t help your breathless giggle, but you try to relax a little around him. You both breathe deeply, and finally, you feel the alpha move.

The pace is stable and reverent from the beginning, like he wants to feel every nook and cranny of your cunt around him. He fucks you like he’s making up for lost time, speeding up and then slowing down, watching his cock disappear inside your needy, sopping pussy and pulling out, the shaft shiny with your juices. Your eyes roll up at the feeling, how he carves through your opening, in and out, brushing over all the good spots as he moves. He changes the angle every couple of minutes, and you gasp loudly when he hits you just right.

He reads your body like an open book, immediately honing in on the spot and picking up speed. Skin slaps against skin, a plopping sound that fills the room and only turns you on even more, if that’s even possible. Vernon’s eyes run over every part of you hungrily, like he wants to commit all of it to memory, and you feel like you’re on fire under the heat in his gaze.

“I’m gonna cum again.” You whimper, feeling tears sting at your eyes as your pleasure crests to heights you have never felt before. Your whole body feels like it’s molten lava, bubbling up inside you until it overtakes your every nerve. Your hands scramble for purchase, and Vernon sees. He winds his fingers through yours and pushes up, pressing your intertwined hands above your head. Your back arches, body laid open for his eyes only. And under his watchful gaze, his soft words, you cum hard, wailing as you drench his cock with your juices, squeezing around him so hard that you almost black out. Something swollen catches on your opening. He thrusts rough a few more times before he surges forward, bullying his knot deep inside you. Your eyes roll. Your omega keens.

Vernon releases your hands, running his own carefully down your body, like he wants to milk the rigidity from your limbs. You breathe heavily, trying to blink the tears away. He nuzzles into your neck, nosing at it and inhaling deep. When you feel his tongue lick over your scent glands, you shiver.

“Sorry.” He whispers when feels it. “Too much?”

You shake your head and turn it the other way, baring your neck to him. You feel his shaky exhale. He runs his tongue over your neck again, scenting you properly. You bask in the feeling.

You’re so completely at peace here, with his knot inside you and his tongue on your skin. This is exactly what you needed. And it’s clear to you now that Vernon knows actually what you need, always.

🏷️: @picheolin-17 , @lovelylonelinesssvt , @scarlettveemin , @shad0wcast , @iluvhosh , @jimzk , @lucis-noctiana , @hannieweee , @xh01bri , @ilseamamuchoamingyu , @bleudandelion , @huihye , @markoplolo , @moondustmemories , @kaitieskidmore97 , @hocidust , @missaoki , @cheolwoo , @isaltedcarameows , @huiimoon , @tranquillitysoul , @weasleytwins-41 , @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @ateez-atiny380 , @piratekingateez2001 , @kpetts , @k4trinabluu , @sunnysidesins , @embrace-themagic , @escoupsue , @hxsxxk-180294 , @wxnderingthoughts , @meanieislife , @jiminie-08 , @w0nw0es , @lostinfakescenarios , @secret1234505 , @redemptions , @haoxiaoba , @junnhuisworld , @gojominn , @peachy-writings, @dreamingofpcy , @woozidreams , @booscafe , @tiffanylstrobel , @sannidokki , @evemds , @bramos91

[supi-wupi]

Your Order: Him - Vernon

pairing: barista!vernon x reader synopsis: Vernon’s your barista. You never get your name on the cup right — but he always draws a tiny heart. You think he does that for everyone. He doesn’t. wc: 2.2k genre: Fluff, Coffee Shop AU, Barista!Vernon warning: none <3 a/n: vernon.

You didn’t mean to become a regular.

It started as a pitstop—just a place between your office and the train, tucked into a corner of the street where everything smells like stale exhaust and cigarette smoke until the coffee shop door swings open. Inside, the world shifts into warm lo-fi music and the gentle grind of espresso. A place with soft lighting, chipped mugs on high shelves, and the kind of baristas who wear rings and quiet smiles like secrets.

You’re not sure why you kept coming back.

No, scratch that. You know why.

His name tag says ‘VERNON’, written in loopy letters that don’t suit the sharpness of his features. He doesn’t say much, but you’ve clocked the way his eyes linger just a second longer when you order, like he's memorizing it—not out of habit, but because he wants to get it right.

Which is funny. Because he never gets your name right.

Not once. Not even close.

You’d said it clearly the first time. Twice, actually. He'd nodded slowly, typed something on the screen, and then handed you a paper cup that read: For: Yon with a tiny heart next to it.

You blinked. You told yourself it was a fluke.

You came back two days later, needing caffeine and comfort. He greeted you with a nod, typed something again, and gave you: For: Yoom The heart was there again. Smaller this time. Almost bashful.

Now it’s today.

You watch as he scrawls something on the cup without asking for your name. Again. When he passes it over, your fingers graze his—accidental, but electric.

You sit in your usual corner, unwrap the sleeve, and stare.

—

On the cup?

For: Yawn, Have a soft day – V

Close enough.

—

You take a photo of it.

You open your group chat.

[groupchat: emotional support crew]

You: we have now reached stage 3 of the Name Apocalypse

Jia: WHAT DID HE WRITE THIS TIME

You: “Yawn” I don’t know if he’s attacking me or flirting

Minsu: nah babe if he was attacking you he’d spell it right the heart is still there?

You: yes. and he underlined it this time. like, tiny little swoop

Jia: oh my god

Jia: okay but the question remains does he do this for EVERYONE??

You: that’s the problem. I DON’T KNOW I can’t just ask him “hey do you give your tiny hand-drawn hearts to all your customers or just me?”

Minsu: you could ask it in a note

You: what is this? a kdrama?

Minsu: maybe… it’s giving soft-launch slowburn anyway.

—

You tap your fingers on the cup, watching the marker ink bleed slightly into the cardboard. “Yawn.” Not your name, but not not your name now.

You wonder if he sees you as that: a little sleepy, a little soft. Someone who notices the heart but pretends not to. Someone who keeps coming back.

Tomorrow, you tell yourself. Tomorrow you’ll see if he spells it better. Tomorrow, you’ll start a tally in your notes app. Tomorrow, you’ll come back. Obviously.

—

You return the next day. Obviously.

You walk in, pretending you haven’t been thinking about this since yesterday. Pretending you didn’t re-read the group chat at midnight, cheeks warm, wondering what Vernon’s handwriting might look like when he actually spells your name right.

He doesn’t ask for your name.

Again.

You watch as he writes, calm as ever, like this is routine now. Like this is your bit. Your thing.

When he hands you the cup, his fingers graze yours again. Intentional? You don’t know. But his smile—crooked, like it’s holding in a joke—makes your stomach shift.

You wait until you're seated to look.

—

Cup Note:

For: Yern, You’re not even mad about this anymore, are you? – V

—

You almost laugh out loud.

Instead, you snap a picture, then open the group chat again.

[groupchat: emotional support crew]

You: update: he’s now writing flirty commentary

Jia: SEND.

You: [photo attached]

Minsu: OH.

Minsu: he knows he absolutely knows.

Jia: "you're not even mad about this anymore"??? this is BANTER

You: do I… write back??

Minsu: YES.

Jia: write something ON THE CUP give it to him when you’re done

You: that feels illegal somehow

Minsu: do it coward

—

You dig through your bag for a pen. Stare at the blank side of the sleeve for longer than you should. Then you scribble:

I was never mad. Just waiting to see how far you’d go. – Still Not Yern

You leave it on the table when you go. Face down. Your heart hammering.

—

The next morning, there’s a post-it stuck on the register.

Customer of the Month: Still Not Yern ❤️

Vernon doesn’t say anything. Just slides over your drink with a sly smile.

You sit down in your corner and unwrap the cup.

—

Cup Note:

For: Yern Again (committed now). Nice handwriting, by the way. I think we’re penpals now.

—

You nearly choke on your first sip.

Penpals.

You feel fourteen again, rereading a letter on lined paper, wondering if the boy on the other end meant what you hoped he meant.

You open the group chat.

You: we’re penpals now I think???

Jia: YOU’RE DATING.

Minsu: THE BIT HAS TRANSFORMED INTO A COURTSHIP RITUAL.

You: if he writes back tomorrow I’ll die.

Jia: then die pretty. wear lip gloss.

—

You leave another message on the sleeve before you go:

“What’s your name? I mean, really. I know the one on the tag isn’t the full story.”

You tuck it into the cup holder and walk out without looking back.

Tomorrow’s going to be something.

—

You think about skipping a day.

Just to regain some composure. To prove—mostly to yourself—that you’re not completely wrapped around the mystery of Vernon and his paper cup poetry.

But.

The post-it is still taped to the counter when you walk in: Customer of the Month: Still Not Yern ❤️

He sees you the second you step in. No questions asked, no name offered.

Just a smirk, and then: “The usual?”

You nod, trying to keep it cool. You’re not cool.

When he hands over your drink, you wait. Expectant.

And this time, the note isn’t written on the cup itself—it’s a folded receipt, slipped under the lid, with a single staple keeping it closed like it’s some kind of classified file.

You wait until you're back at your corner table to open it.

—

Vernon’s Cup Note:

For: Not Yern (but dangerously close to figuring you out), Real name’s Hansol. Most people don’t use it. You can, if you want. Also: you left your lip gloss on the table yesterday. I kept it. Not weird unless you make it weird. – Yours, if you keep writing back.

—

You clutch the paper like it might disappear if you blink.

[groupchat: emotional support crew]

You: HE GAVE ME HIS REAL NAME

You: ALSO STOLE MY LIP GLOSS. I THINK THAT’S ROMANCE??

Jia: it’s literally marriage tell me what the note says word for word or I’ll report you for emotional hoarding.

Minsu: “Yours, if you keep writing back” is a confession. he just proposed.

You: I’m going to die in this coffee shop.

Jia: at least the aesthetic is cute

—

You grab your pen. Flip over the receipt. Write back.

Hansol.I ’m honored. Flattered. Mildly horrified you kept the gloss but also… not mad. Yours, if you spell my name right next time.

You hand it over when you drop off the empty cup at the counter. He watches your fingers brush the lid, but says nothing—just a soft grin playing on his lips.

Tomorrow can’t come fast enough.

—

You’re not supposed to look forward to coffee this much.

Or maybe you are. But not because of this. Not because Hansol—because he finally spelled it right—starts writing more than cute quips and one-liners.

This time, the note’s on a napkin, wedged just under the sleeve of your cup.

—

Vernon’s Cup Note:

Name one person hotter than your local barista. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

On the other side of the napkin, in smaller handwriting:

Also—how do you feel about strawberry scones? We just started stocking them. I saved you one. No pressure. Unless you want pressure.

—

You tear off a piece of the scone with your fingers, still warm. Sweet. It leaves crumbs on your mouth and the sleeve of your sweater and you genuinely couldn’t care less.

[groupchat: emotional support crew]

You: he SAVED me a SCONE also basically called himself hot. Do I laugh? Agree?? Spontaneously combust???

Minsu: the answer is always combust.

Jia: so let me get this straight. hansol: here is a snack, here is my name, here is my flirting you: contemplates death instead of action SLOW. BURN.

You: i hate you but i’m also writing back hold on

—

You scribble your reply on the same napkin.

Name one barista who flirts harder than you. Go ahead. I’ll wait.

You fold it once, twice. Slip it beneath the sugar jar on your table before you leave, where you know he’ll find it.

As you reach the door, you hear him say—soft, like it’s only meant for you: “Nice choice on the comeback.”

You don’t turn around. But your ears are red all the way home.

—

Rain wasn’t on the forecast.

But here you are. Standing just inside the café doors, dripping slightly and staring at your phone like it’ll summon a miracle ride.

Vernon notices. Of course he does.

He appears at your side without a word, just a folded napkin and a to-go cup already waiting on the counter. Your name’s spelled right again—annoyingly so. Handsomely so.

—

Vernon’s Cup Note:

Forecast: 100% chance of you forgetting an umbrella.

[written smaller underneath:] Lucky for you, I didn’t.

—

He’s holding it in his hand when you look up. The umbrella, not the note. (Though he’s definitely reading your expression like it’s a note too.)

You blink. “You carry an extra umbrella?”

“I carry hope,” he replies, deadpan.

You huff a laugh, nerves short-circuiting. “So this is… a rescue?”

“No,” he says, and there’s something different in the way he says it this time. “This is a request.”

You don’t understand at first—not until he steps closer and gently reaches for your hand.

Your heart stumbles.

With the kind of confidence that only comes from meaning it, Vernon takes a pen from his apron pocket. He holds your palm steady. Carefully writes out a phone number.

And underneath that:

“Call me. Or text me. Or just send a heart. I’d really like to take you out, Y/N.”

He looks up, smile crooked. “Unless you’d rather keep talking through coffee cups and sarcasm.”

You glance down at your palm. Then up at him.

You don’t even have to think. “I like the cups. But I think I’d like you more.”

—

[groupchat: emotional support crew]

You: HE WROTE HIS NUMBER. ON. MY. PALM. asked me on a DATE. AM I DREAMING OR IS THIS THE K-DRAMA ARC

Jia: the prophecy… has been fulfilled…

Minsu: your order: him. literally.

You: soft launch starts tomorrow. i’m texting him in five minutes.

Jia: five???

Minsu: BOLD. DO IT NOW.

—

You do.

And maybe it’s still raining. And maybe your heart won’t calm down. And maybe Vernon replies with:

So… Saturday?

But there’s no maybe about how good it feels to finally order what you’ve been secretly craving all this time:

Him.

—

Epilogue; “Tall Iced Crush, One Sugar”

The date isn’t flashy. It’s not candlelight or violins or any of the things your friends teased you about. It’s just Vernon, standing outside a quiet secondhand bookstore with two cups of coffee and a slightly nervous smile.

(He still spelled your name right. And drew a tiny heart.)

You sip from the cup before he can say anything, and hum in appreciation. “Still my favorite barista.”

He grins. “Still your only barista.”

You bump shoulders, but don’t pull away.

The conversation flows easier than you expected. He tells you about how he started writing notes on cups as a joke for a coworker. You admit you once thought he might be doing it for everyone.

He raises a brow. “Did you think everyone got poems about how they forget umbrellas?”

You laugh, flustered. “Okay, fair.”

When he catches you brushing your fingers over your palm — where the ink from his number has barely faded — he goes quiet for a moment. Then:

“Hey,” he says. “Come here a sec.”

You step closer. He takes your empty cup and swaps it for a new one — one he had hidden behind his back.

This time, he’s watching you read it.

—

Vernon’s Final Cup Note:

Wanted: Someone who likes rain, bookstore dates, and leaving room in their life for something real.

Found.

—

You’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. He notices. He always does.

So you take a step forward and say it plainly — no heart on a cup, no scribbled message between lines.

Just, Me too.

And then he leans in, brushing his nose against yours, asking without words.

You answer with your lips.

The kiss tastes like coffee, like rain on pavement, like long-awaited timing. Like something starting, not ending.

—

[groupchat: emotional support crew]

You: soft launch cancelled HARD LAUNCH INCOMING i kissed the barista.

Jia: !!!!!!!!!

Minsu: coffee shop AU turned canon. we were here. we were witnesses. this is history.

masterlist ♪

[luumiinaa]

cuteeee

[sevenpersona]

This fic had me smiling like

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reaction to their s/o getting their driver’s license

Request: hiiii Gurl, could u maybe do a reaction to s\o getting their drivers lice se? loveee yaaaa😘

A/N: congrats to everyone out there who survived the dreaded 3-point turn, and that one terrifying examiner who didn’t smile once. i’m proud of u.

Contains: fluff

bursting with pride like he personally trained you — seungcheol, hoshi, mingyu, seungkwan

he’s cheering before you even get the chance to get out of the car and practically vibratingt the second you tell him you passed. he’ll call everyone in the group chat and announcin, “my baby can drive now!!” like it’s a world record. will 100% insist on taking a bunch of pictures with you holding your license like a trophy and brag about you to literally everyone for the next MONTH.

c o o l man who won't stop smiling like a simp — joshua, jun, vernon, dino

he’s pretending to be calm about it “ah, i knew you’d pass” but he’s smiling so much it hurts. he’ll say you should drive him around now, but then immediately offers to go on a celebratory drive together just to watch you behind the wheel. the pride in his eyes is li te rally unmatched. he’s totally saving the first selfie of you in your driver seat as his lock screen.

gets all sentimental about it [of course] — jeonghan, dokyeom, minghao

he’s so soft about it, it’s almost funny. you tell him you passed and he’s hugging you so tight, “i’m so proud of you, baby.” he remembers how nervous you were before the test and now looks at you like you’ve conquered the world. expect a cute gift like maybe a car charm, keychain, or air freshener — because he has to mark the occasion with at least something.

starts planning road trips asap — wonwoo, woozi

“sooo now that you can drive…” he starts with that mischievous grin. yeah, he’s thinking of playlists, snacks, and scenic routes. he’s just thrilled to have another driver in the relationship one he trusts and loves. will make you drive while he controls the aux, singing his heart out next to you and calling it ‘teamwork,’ but can you blame him?

[hansiris]

my muse

summary: chwe hansol discovers a new method to fluster you--hide easter eggs of your relationship in the production of his songs. you consequently match his freak.

cw/tags: idol!reader, gn pronouns used but made with fem!reader in mind/fem photo used, fluff and crack, established relationship, third wheeling enabler woozi

note: if you're wondering what scene they're talking about in the sound of music it's the one where they sing the song about 'somewhere in my youth or childhood, i must've done something good' because i love that scene <3 also i'm filipino LOL so that's why reader sneaks in 'mahal kita' in the rap hehehehe hope you like this !!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated :D

in case you didn't know: reblogging is the best way to support your favorite authors! if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi!

[sevenpersona]

So cute 🤭

[kyeomdiary]

2025 SVT 9TH FAN MEETING <SEVENTEEN in CARAT LAND> MEMORY BOOK+ Preview Cuts

[hansiris]

and i can't have fun if i can't have you

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: taylor swift - "Elizabeth Taylor"

summary: a peek into the relationship between chwe hansol and idol!reader.

cw/tags: gn reader but written with fem!reader in mind, just fluff and some crack hehe, pet names (baby, pretty, my love), brief mature language

note: to you is such a goated song and i will wait patiently for ot13 to come back so svt performs it again...but in the meantime i listen to it and just feel so melancholy LOL anyway hope you like this! thank you for all the love on my first smau :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated <3

in case you didn't know: reblogging is the best way to support your favorite authors! if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi!

[neenarchive]

me when we start eating billionaires and i have to kill gomez addams

[neenarchive]

[nudityandnerdery]

Gomez and Morticia, telling us where they store the spare guillotines so we can go after Jeff Bezos after we finish with them.

[nudityandnerdery]

Look, I know we don't want to admit that our heroes can be flawed, but this isn't just people baselessly picking a rich person and saying they're a billionaire.

Don't hold back. Gomez will respect the revolutionary fire burning in your heart!

[bravelion96]

The Addams would bring the guillotines for the other billionaires, give away literally all their money and then still ASK for executions because it’s been so long since they had a good beheading in the family

[anderjak]

honestly, you'd break his heart if you said you WEREN'T planning on sticking his head in a guillotine. morticia, too. they'd be upset at the special treatment, too, but mostly they really want to be executed gruesomely as they stare lovingly into each other's eyes as their heads are separated from their bodies, and we need to respect that.

[krudman]

[atomic-waste-of-time]

tumblr seems to be the only place these two are respected

[llamaal]

We save the good ones for last, so they can savor their experiance.

[help-help-i-need-an-adult]

Gomez: why did it take so long to get around to us?

Revolutionaries: we built you and Morticia a special double guillotine so you could be executed together, and it took time to get it right.

Morticia: that’s so kind!

[harrykim]

FOR REAL

[harrykim]

helpppppp

[harrykim]

couldnt even look up exchange rates…. its dire

[burdenedwithgloriousgenitals]

I once read a high school AU set in England where the students were studying “AP US History”

[fanfiction-artist-prototype]

Didn't read it bc I couldn't deal with it, but have seen a fic of Shen Qingqiu missing stuff from home and so having... a Thanksgiving meal. He's from China.

[seungkw1]

line 1 to yeoncheon — ljh

🚅 pairing: lee jihoon x fem!reader 🚅 theme: psychological horror, hurt/comfort, strangers to ??? 🚅 wc: 4.6k 🚅 warnings: creepy elements, sensations of feeling physically trapped, reader is mostly gn but referred to once as a woman 🚅 a/n: okay, ngl. i’m kind of obsessed with this one :) i wouldn’t say it’s overtly scary, but there’s certainly a looming sense of dread in this one. i really hope this story takes you for a spooky ride (pun intended, pls forgive me)

𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝙲𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 — [𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝] ; [𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝]

SYNOPSIS: When an ordinary train ride becomes inescapable, you and a fellow trapped passenger try to figure out what the hell is going on — before you lose your minds.

Seoul is a city that can be described by many words: fast, bustling, colorful, exciting. The list goes on. As a vibrant metropolis with 10 million residents, quiet is usually not one of them —but tonight seems to be the exception. It's later than you're usually out, though not terribly late. You shiver as you walk briskly down the sidewalk, wishing you had worn a heavier jacket, but there's no time to go back and change. You pull out your phone: 11:37pm reads your lockscreen. Picking up your pace, you enter the stairs for the subway. Your train is the last one for the night, and you can't afford to miss it.

You fumble through your bag in search of your metro pass, feeling around until your fingertips brush the small plastic card. You pull it out as you arrive at the turnstile. beep, goes the machine as you scan it for entry. Hurrying through Cheongnyangni station, you make your way down the many flights of stairs to the platform for Line 1. The familiar jingle signaling your train's arrival starts playing from the speakers above as you near.

"The train for Yeoncheon is approaching."

says the calm female voice of the automated announcement. You pick up your pace, jogging light on your feet down the remainder of the stairs. You step up to the nearest screen door, where commuters normally queue to board, but at this hour there are only a few others on the entire platform. All of them appear to be around your age, presumably students of the University of Seoul like yourself — equally tired stragglers finally heading home after a long day.

With a loudening whoosh the train approaches the station, slowing to a stop before the platform doors slide open. You board, taking a seat in the corner of the nearly-empty car. A ringing sound floods the speakers as the train doors shut, and the train departs.

"This is: Line 1 to Yeoncheon. The next stop is: Hoegi."

Despite the bright interior lights, you find yourself yawning as the ambient mechanical train sounds begin to lull you to sleep. Settling into the seat, you pop your headphones on and select one of your calmer playlists. You lean your head against the wall as the familiar melodies play in your ears, eyelids heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

I'll just rest my eyes for a minute, you think to yourself. You only have eight stops until you get off at Chang-dong and transfer lines — far too short of a journey for you to fall asleep, so you rest while you can.

Your head snaps awake.

Disoriented, you blink a couple times, finding yourself still on the subway. Peering up at the electronic display, its neon green letters give you the train's next stop: Yangju.

"Shit," you grumble under your breath, groggily getting yourself up. So much for not falling asleep — you've missed your stop by a long shot.

You sling your backpack over your shoulder and shuffle shamefully over to the doors. Hopefully when you get off here, there will be at least one more train headed back in the other direction for you to hop on. And if not… well, you'll have to think of something.

A yawn escapes you as you wait for the train to slow, standing there zoned out and staring mindlessly out the dark window. Still waiting, you glance at your phone screen: 12:24am. You had been asleep for over 45 minutes. Sighing, you shove the device back in your pocket and wait for the train to arrive at the next stop.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait.

But the train doesn't even slow.

You've never been this far north on this train before, so you assume the stations are probably just further apart at this point. But at least five entire minutes have passed since you got up — surely, you should be there by now.

Pulling your phone out again, its display reads 12:24am.

Huh, you think, staring at your phone in confusion. You could've sworn that's what it said last time you checked, but you are quite tired, so you must have misread it.

Another five minutes pass. You look at your phone: 12:24am.

A creeping sense of anxiety washes over you. You know you're tired, but you certainly don't feel exhausted to the point of losing your grip on reality this much.

I must not have phone service. You don't know why you wouldn't, but it's the easiest explanation. But don't smartphones these days keep track of the time even without service? You think that's the case, but you're not 100% sure.

But we should be there by now…

Glancing around the train, you see there is only one other passenger in the car with you, sitting distantly at the opposite end. The man seems to be your age, and you recognize him as one of the students who boarded on the same platform as you. His backpack is tossed lazily onto the vacant seat beside him; he has wired earbuds in, tapping his feet along with the music, and wears a pair of black thick-rimmed glasses that match his dark cropped hair. He quickly looks away, clearly just looking at you, but his eyes keep shifting over to you. His demeanor is calm, but you detect a hint of worry in his brow. You're not normally one to talk to strangers on the train, but he seems kin enough to you that you'd feel comfortable asking him a question.

You slowly walk over to him; he's looking down at his phone, a confused expression on his face, but his head pops up as you approach. He plucks the headphones from his ears, the white cable dangling in his hand as he looks up at you.

"Hi, uh, sorry to bother you," you start, not entirely sure what it is you even want to ask. "But uh, do you have the time? My phone isn't working."

The man cocks his head slightly.

"Oh, that's weird, but uh, mine doesn't seem to be working either."

He looks back down at the device, flipping through various apps, but a permanent white screen remains. You unlock your phone and try a few apps of your own, but it gives you the same. No service whatsoever.

"Huh. That is weird."

Looking back up at the man, you stare at each other for a prolonged moment, both not knowing what exactly to say.

"Do you know how much longer it is to the next stop?" you finally break the silence. "I missed my stop and the stations seem really far apart up here."

He frowns slightly.

"Um, Yangju is actually my stop but… we should've arrived by now. The stations aren't that far apart — it doesn't usually take this long."

"Okay, that's what I was thinking," you say softly, turning your head to stare out the window, but you still can't see a damn thing. You know the train is above ground by now, and it is after midnight — but there's no way it should be this dark.

"Is it normally this dark out here?" you ask the man.

"No," he answers, shaking his head. "Not this dark."

Walking over to the window, you press your forehead against the glass, trying to get a view of your surroundings, but there's nothing. And not nothing in the sense that it's too dim to see what's out there: there is nothing out there. The man rises to his feet and peers out the window next to you.

"What the hell," he murmurs, staring into the pitch blackness.

"It's like staring into the void," you remark, half jokingly, but the words feel a little too real departing your lips. You peek over at the door to the connecting car, to see if anyone else on the train seems concerned, but you only find the same empty void beyond the glass. You walk over to the door, pressing the button to open it, but nothing happens. You try a few more times — nothing; you attempt to pry the door open — still nothing. You rush over to the door at the other end of the car, only to find the same thing.

A sour sensation fills your stomach as your nerves tingle warily. Something is very wrong here.

You and the man look at each other across the empty car, the air around you growing uncomfortable with an undefined sense of dread. The train zooms along, maintaining its highest speed, with no indication that it will be slowing anytime soon.

You nervously walk back over to him, taking a seat; he joins you, sitting with two empty seats between the two of you.

"What the hell is going on here?" you wonder quietly, crossing your arms as a chill surges through you. The man knows your question is rhetorical — it's not like he has any clue either — but you seem nervous, and he finds himself wanting to console you.

"I don't know," he responds gently. "But the train has to stop at some point, right? We won't be here forever."

You look over to him. Again, you're not one to trust strangers — but his face is soft, his eyes kind. He looks back at you respectfully, and he seems like he genuinely is trying to comfort you.

Then you burst into tears.

The man's face drops. He sits there frozen, unsure what to do.

"Um… are you okay?"

You bury your face into your hands, concealing your tears in embarrassment.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," you stammer through sobs. "I just missed my stop and I don't even know if there's a train headed back that way and I'm so tired and I just want to go home…"

"Hey, hey," he says softly, sliding one seat over and awkwardly patting you on the shoulder. You cease your babbling, crying quietly into your palms as you take rapid shallow breaths.

"It's gonna be alright, no need to panic," he assures you. "Take a deep breath, you're going to hyperventilate."

You do as he says, letting in a deep gasp as you try to calm down. You breathe in, out, in, out, your heart rate eventually slowing and your eyes drying. As you lift your head up, you see the man extending his hand to you — in it, a small pack of tissues.

"In case you need one," he tells you. His body is awkwardly stiffened — he knows that he's a strange man and you're a woman alone on the train at night, so he doesn't want to make you nervous by overstepping his bounds. You take it from him, tugging out a tissue and wiping your eyes with it.

"Thanks," you sniffle, handing the pack back to him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to freak out like that."

"No need to apologize," he says warmly. "It's okay. There has to be a logical explanation for all of this." But the confidence in his voice wavers with the last sentence.

"Yeah, you're right," you agree, nodding. "It's not like we entered The Twilight Zone or anything," you add with a soft laugh.

His face lights up slightly.

"Do you watch The Twilight Zone?" he inquires. "That's one of my favorite shows!"

"Yeah!" you reply, a smile returning to your face. "My dad showed me all of the seasons when I was a kid."

He smiles at you. "Mine too! I guess that's a kind of show that dads really like," he chuckles.

"It's so good. What's that one episode with the train?"

"'A Stop at Willoughby'," he answers right away. "That one's iconic."

"Let's just hope this train doesn't end up like that," you say, lightheartedly but nervously.

"Well, as long as we don't go jumping off," he replies matter-of-factly. You let out a laugh; he gives you a confused look.

"Sorry," you apologize. "You just said that so nonchalantly." The corners of his lips perk up, his cheeks turning a little pink.

"No, I'm sorry," he says sheepishly. "I've been told I'm a bit blunt, I'm trying to work on that."

"You're fine," you reassure him. "Really."

The next couple minutes pass in silence, with only the rushing sounds of the speeding train surrounding you. You feel comfortable sitting in silence with the man — he doesn't make you feel pressured to make small talk.

"I'm y/n, by the way," you tell him, turning to face him. He was zoned out in your general direction, but his focus returns to him as he meets your gaze. He noticed your eyes were pretty from the moment he saw you, but staring into them at such a close distance makes his stomach flutter. He swallows it and tries to ignore it.

"I'm Jihoon," he replies. "Do you go to the University of Seoul? I followed you from campus to the train." His eyes widen, quickly waving his hands. "Not on purpose! I just meant you were walking ahead of me."

"It's okay," you chuckle. "Yeah, I do. What do you study?"

"I'm in Computer Engineering," he replies. "In the graduate program."

"I'm also a grad student!" you tell him brightly. "But I'm in the Anthropology program."

"Whoa," he remarks with genuine interest. "I don't really know anything about anthropology, that's like Indiana Jones, right?"

"Kinda," you smile. "Archaeology is a subclass of anthropology, but instead of artifacts I am more interested in the study of human behavior over time."

"That's super cool," he tells you with a grin. "That's like the exact opposite of what I do. Everything just boils down to electrical currents."

"Hey, that's really important. And it means you're smart as fuck."

"I don't know if I'd go that far," he chuckles as he tucks his chin down, cheeks reddening again with embarrassment.

You continue chatting with Jihoon, conversation naturally flowing from topic to topic as you talk about whatever comes to mind. You find your cheeks stinging from smiling so much — if you had to be stuck on a freaky train ride with a stranger, at least you ended up with a really nice one.

The minutes drag on. And on. And on. The train still endlessly zooms along into a void of nothingness. You start to grow weary.

"How long do you think we've been here now?" you mutter quietly an unknown amount of time later. You're slumped over in the plastic train seat, which has grown fairly uncomfortable by now. The conversation has dwindled — not from lack of interest, you're both just tired.

"I don't know. An hour and a half? Two hours?" he mumbles back from two seats over, head reclined against the train window as he stares blankly at the ceiling.

"I was gonna say one million years, but you're probably closer."

A single laugh huffs out of him. "It sure feels like it, though."

"I feel like I'm starting to lose my mind," you admit, massaging your forehead, trying to rid yourself of concerned furrow that has taken up residence in your brow. Your eyelids hang heavily with exhaustion, and your vision is starting to blur, illusions of odd shadows appearing briefly in your periphery due to the stagnant scene you've been staring at for however long now.

"Yeah, me too," Jihoon says despondently, frowning at the train floor as he dissociates.

"I think I'm gonna put my headphones on and take another nap," you tell him, stifling yet another yawn.

"You know what, that's a good idea," he says, reaching into his jacket pocket and retrieving the now-tangled earbuds. He fiddles with the wire, working to untangle it. "I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep here, though."

"Wake me if we arrive literally anywhere," you tell him, leaning your head against the wall as you put your headphones back on. A peek of a grin appears on his face.

"I will."

You wake to a weight leaning into your side.

Squinting your eyes open to the fluorescent light of the train car, you see that Jihoon is laying almost his entire body on you, fast asleep. You're not sure how he scooted all the way over here in his sleep, but somehow he did, and somehow you've managed to wrap your arm around his back. You don't want to wake your accidental snuggle buddy, but your arm is going numb. You shift slightly, trying to remove it from behind him without waking him, but the movement only prompts him to wrap his arm around you. Your cheeks turn hot — you know he's not doing it on purpose, on the account of him being unconscious, but it still makes you smile sheepishly. You try again a few seconds later, tugging your tingling limb from underneath his body weight, but his eyes flutter open. Realizing the position he's in, he bolts upright; at some point in both of your naps your hand had managed to get tangled in his earbuds, and the motion yanks them out of his ears.

"I'm so sorry," he stammers, his ears burning red-hot. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, no worries," you tell him with a reassuring smile. You rub the sleep out of your eyes with your fists. "Clearly we were both exhausted." You hand him his earbuds back; he reaches quickly to take them, brushing his fingers over the back of your hand as he does. You feel a warm rush of blood rise to your cheeks.

"Still not anywhere, huh?" he asks, pursing his lips as he stares through the window into the pitch-black void.

"Guess not," you sigh.

You don't know how long either of you were asleep. Your phone is still uselessly stuck at 12:24am, as is Jihoon's. The train's electronic display is still stuck on Yangju, promising a destination that it seemingly cannot take you to.

You stare off into space again for a while, your mind wandering to places you don't want to go.

What if the train never stops?

What if this horrible void has no end? Are you going to die here? Will you die of starvation? Or, perhaps dehydration will kill you first…

You bury your face into your hands, trying to get your brain to shut up. There's no need to catastrophize just yet… Is there?

What will your family think? That you were kidnapped? Ran away? Murdered? Will they ever even find your body? Will they ever get any kind of closure—

"Stop it," you grumble under your breath.

"Hm?" you hear Jihoon pipe up from a few seats down.

"Nothing," you say shaking your head. You sit upright, turning to face him. "Just trying not to lose my mind over h—"

You are cut off as the lights go out.

You wait for your eyes to adjust, but they can't. Not with the pitch-black void outside the train car.

"I can't see," you say panickedly. You raise your hand in front of your face, drawing it in closer, but even from mere centimeters away you can't see it.

"I can't see anything," your voice wavers. The car is silent — you hear nothing aside from the deafening rush of the speeding train and the pounding of your own blood in your ears.

"Jihoon??" you cry out in sudden terror, realizing you can't even tell if he's still there. You reach into the nothingness, trying to find him."Where are you??"

"I'm right here, it's okay," he assures you, his hand colliding with your arm. He gives you a soft pat on the shoulder; you exhale with relief, letting yourself breathe before you give yourself a panic attack.

"This is insane. I think I'm losing it," you lament, laying your head back against the window.

"You're not losing it, I'm experiencing all this too." He pauses for a moment. "Unless I'm also losing it," he adds as he realizes. You laugh, the sound echoing vibrantly through the darkness — seemingly so out of place in this awful quandary you're in. It makes Jihoon smile.

"Sorry, I don't mean to laugh at that," you say to him. "You're just funny."

"Oh," Jihoon replies, laughing nervously. He's grateful you can't see how flush his face is turning right now. "Nobody's uh… ever said that to me before."

"What?? No way, I don't believe that for a second."

Jihoon shrugs. "It's true. Everyone always says I'm too serious."

"Well that's rude of them."

"I mean, I know they're mostly joking, but still…"

"Sounds like you need better friends," you say sincerely.

I don't have many of those in the first place, he wants to reply, but he keeps it to himself.

You feel his hand slip over yours. Smiling softly, you turn your palm to join with his, his fingers wrapping around your hand in a gentle embrace.

"If you wanted to hold my hand you could've just asked," you tell him playfully.

"What?"

You give his fingers a squeeze. "I just mean, I don't mind you holding my hand."

He doesn't reply. You begin to wonder if you are being too forward, but he finally replies, his voice hushed in fear.

"Y/n… I'm not holding your hand."

The lights turn back on with a blinding flash. You immediately squeeze your eyes shut, seeing colors on the inside of your eyelids. Slowly you peek one eye open, looking over at Jihoon, who is seated two seats down from you. Two seats too far for him to just reach over and hold your hand.

You slowly turn your head, looking around the train car, but as expected: nobody else is there.

Horror slowly seeps through your veins, chilling you to your bones. You and Jihoon stare at each other, wide eyed and distraught. But neither of you knows what this means — and quite frankly, neither of you want to actually find out.

You both go back to sitting in silence, staring at the floor.

Twenty minutes or an hour or four hours or a day or however much fucking time later you are still staring at your shoes, eyes glassy and dull. Suddenly your stomach lets out a loud gurgling noise. Jihoon jerks upright — he wasn't asleep, but he was getting there until the sound startled him.

"Sorry," you mumble sheepishly, but he shakes his head, silently telling you no worries.

"Guess I'm getting hungry," you remark uninterestedly. "If I had known I was going to be on the stupid train this long I would've brought a snack."

Jihoon reaches for his backpack, pulling it to his side as he unzips it and reaches inside. He retrieves an unopened Choco Pie from the pocket.

"Catch," he says, tossing the snack to you. It lands perfectly in your hand.

"I don't want to eat your food-"

"It's okay," he insists. "Please, eat it."

You give him a grateful smile. "Thank you." You tear into the red packaging, unwrapping the chocolate treat. You break it in half to the best of your ability, handing one of the pieces back to him. He smiles, sighing reluctantly, but he takes the half. You try to savor the treat, but you're hungrier than you realize, and within seconds you have devoured it. Looking over at Jihoon, he too has scarfed his down.

"Can I ask you something?" he suddenly speaks. You look over at him curiously.

"Sure," you respond, giving him a nod.

"I was thinking," he starts, hesitant. "I was just… wondering if-"

"The next stop is: Yangju. The doors are on your left."

Both of you nearly jump out of your seats at the automated voice echoing from above. Startled, you look around, realizing you can actually see your surroundings outside. You stand up, hands pressed to the glass as you peer out the window like an excited child, taking in the trees rushing by and the staring up at the starry moonlight sky like it's some kind of fucking miracle. And honestly — it is.

You stare at Jihoon, both of you wide-eyed in shock — but then a wide grin spreads across your face, prompting him to give you a big toothy smile as well.

"Oh my god, we made it?!" you shout. It's more of a question than answer, for the train hasn't pulled to a stop yet, but you feel it begin to decelerate. You and Jihoon whoop loudly, jumping up and down, hugging each other like you just won a gold medal as a team.

"Oh thank god, I was starting to think we were actually going to die here," Jihoon sighs with great relief. The slowing train at long last comes to a halt.

"This is: Yangju," the disembodied train lady announces. The doors open with a whoosh — the crisp, fresh nighttime air hitting you with a glorious chill. You and Jihoon practically leap out of the car onto the platform, jumping up and down and cheering. The small handful of other departing passengers give you strange looks, as if you were a bunch of maniacs celebrating a completely ordinary train ride.

"Do you think anyone else… noticed?" you ask Jihoon puzzledly as you look around the station.

"Doesn't look that way," he responds, equally as confused. He pulls out his phone, looking at the time: 12:25am.

"Huh."

He turns his face back to you, eyes so kind and face so soft you want to adorn his cheeks with kisses. But that would be crazy, you say to yourself. So instead you awkwardly extend your hand to him. He looks down at it for a second, then reaches up to shake it, looking back up at you as he holds your hand in his soft, warm palm. It's a feeling you wish you could preserve forever, but unfortunately the time comes for you to let go.

"It was nice to meet you, Jihoon," you tell him cheerfully.

"Nice meeting you too, y/n," he replies warmly. "Get home safe."

"I will," you assure him. "Maybe I'll see you around campus!"

"Maybe," he says, giving you a genuine but somewhat sad smile.

He turns, slowly, as if he doesn't want to go; but eventually he does. You watch as he walks toward the exit. As he nears the turnstiles, you shout out to him.

"Wait!"

He pauses, turning back around to see you jogging over to him. Your feet tap against the pavement as you near, but the whooshing sound of an incoming train overtakes it as it grows louder. You see the inbound train lights in the distance — looks like you'll be able to make it home after all.

"I just…" you say as you approach him. "I just wanted to thank you."

Jihoon tilts his head at you, not understanding. "For… what?"

"For…"

Your voice trails off. You don't really know what, to be honest. For nothing, really — but also for everything.

"For being there for me," you finally say.

The incoming train arrives at the platform with a rush of air. You turn, quickly making your way over to the boarding zone so you don't miss it. As the train doors swish open, you look back one more time. Jihoon is still standing there, watching you. He gives you a wave goodbye; you wave back.

You board the train, and he exits through the turnstiles, each going your separate ways into the night.

taglist: @miniseokminnies @minisugakoobies @kwonxy @aaniag @princessjazzyjazz @christinewithluv @choco-scoups @unlikelysublimekryptonite @lostmembrane @hearts4cheol @ninigyuuu @tokitosun @bonsaijoons @reiofsuns2001 @hluisstuff@meowchella @asyre @hipsdofangirl @dy-kyeom @haoxiaoba @boltersworldsblog @nidda13 @mae-murdock @renapersa @alikesical @humanitysstrongestsoldier1 @mytangerine98 @a-thln @riddlerloveb0t @fancypeacepersona@floverchwe @ybimoon @j3nnch3ls3a @eternalsagacrusader @livelaughloveseventeen

[seungkw1]

taglist 2: @sevenpersona @chirocatic @jbear00 @strxwberry-skiess @coupsarchive

@kyeomiis @tinycatharsis @hannieween @smiileflower @hanniebub 

@cottonfluffclouds @starmy-143 @sourkimchi @lalataitai @cloudsinthecup

@incorrectlyjanelle @gyucheolpuppy @seventeenhot

[seungkw1]

I Worked At Spirit Halloween And All I Got Was This Dumb Boyfriend — hjs

🎃 pairing: hong jisoo x f!reader 🎃 theme: humor, smut [18+ mdni], fluff 🎃 wc: 6.6k 🎃 warnings: alcohol consumption, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), protected piv sex (wrap it before u tap it folks), wrist pinning, bit o size kink, aftercare (he’s a gentleman ofc), joshua is a massive dork, fluff ending 🎃 a/n: i had sooo much fun writing this one! shua is just a goofy weirdo (/pos) and i hope i encapsulated that well here :) ty @miniseokminnies for being my trusty beta reader as always

𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝙲𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 — [𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝] ; [𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝]

SYNOPSIS: Working at Spirit Halloween isn’t exactly your dream career. The customers are annoying, the pay is mediocre, and if you have to hear The Monster Mash one more time you might actually lose your marbles. At least you have the company of your cute, friendly coworker to help get you through your shifts – but you soon start to realize your feelings toward him might be something a little more complicated than just a silly work crush.

"There you are — can you go look in the back for me and see if we have any more Rumi wigs?"

Your coworker doesn't reply, his back turned as he continues to stock the shelves with black paper plates that say BOO! on them. You stare at the back of his head, wondering why he's ignoring you, when you spot that he has his AirPods in. You grab a pack of pumpkin-patterned napkins and chuck it at his head. He jumps as it whacks him with a light thunk. Joshua spins around, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights — when he sees it's just you, he relaxes.

"Oh, it's you," he sighs in relief as he takes the AirPods off and shoves them in his pocket, loose. "I thought I was gonna have to fight some kids again."

"'Fight some kids'?" you ask, raising your brow at him.

"Yesterday there were some teenagers having a full-on duel with the lightsabers in the accessories aisle," he explains, placing the remainder of the plate sets on the shelf. "I asked them to stop — nicely, mind you — but then they just started hitting me."

"And then you fought them?"

"Not physically, obviously. But I did yell at them and I told them their 'drip' was 'chopped, no cap'."

You burst out laughing.

"And what did they have to say to that?" you ask, grinning.

"They called me cringe and then left."

"Sounds about right," you nod. "Anyway, I need Rumi wigs, we ran out again. Can you grab some from the back?"

"I'll check, but I'm pretty sure we're sold out."

"Oh boy," you groan. "That'll go over well with the 400 girls who come in here every hour looking for K-Pop Demon Hunters stuff, I'm sure."

"Godspeed, soldier," he bids you with a salute. You smile; while you were glad to pick up the seasonal job to make some extra cash, working at Spirit Halloween is certainly not your dream career. The whiny children are annoying, their demanding parents are even worse, and everyone else who shops here is apparently hell-bent on making your life difficult by trashing the place every single day. But working with Joshua always makes the shift at least tolerable. He never fails to make you laugh — and you'd be lying if you said you didn't have at least a little bit of a work crush on him.

"You in tomorrow?" you ask as he grabs the supply cart to take back to storage.

"Yup. Picked up Soonyoung's shift so I'm working a double, because I hate myself apparently," he tells you lightheartedly.

"Oh nice," you reply casually, despite feeling excited at the prospect of seeing him all day. "I'm also working extra hours tomorrow."

"Well it's the last Saturday before Halloween, I'm sure it'll be a super chill and uneventful day of work," he remarks with heavy sarcasm.

"Oh, no doubt," you play along. "Suuuper chill and fun."

"See you tomorrow, then," he tells you with a wave as he makes his way to the back of the store. "Have a good night."

"You too!" you reply cheerfully. You don't realize you're staring at him walking away until he looks back over his shoulder. You quickly start shuffling things aimlessly on the shelf, pretending to be busy.

Maybe you have more than a little crush on Joshua Hong after all.

You're nearly falling asleep eating your sandwich when the door to the break room opens abruptly, slamming into the wall behind it. Startled, you lift your head up to see a frazzled Joshua entering the room.

"Are you okay?" you ask him, concerned.

"Do you think they'll fire me if I punch a customer in the face?" he wonders out loud as he marches to the fridge, grabbing his lunch and joining you at the circular table in the middle of the room.

"Yeah probably," you reply. He pulls a plastic container filled with colorful cereal out of his lunchbox, followed by a small glass bottle of milk and a spoon.

"Might be worth it at this point, honestly."

He notices you staring as he pours the milk into his bowl.

"What, a guy can't have cereal for lunch?"

"I mean, sure," you tell him, your mouth twitching into a smile as you try not to giggle. "I've just never seen somebody bring diy Lucky Charms into a workplace before."

"It's Cap'n Crunch, thank you very much," he replies, putting a large spoonful of it in his mouth.

"My mistake," you grin at him.

You sit there in silence for a minute as you both eat, the room quiet and still in a moment of peace from the hectic scene out in the store. The only sounds in the room are the fridge whirring and the chorus of Spooky Scary Skeletons playing over the tinny speaker system.

"I hate this fucking song," you grumble under your breath. Joshua laughs, the sound of his voice hearty and bright in your ears.

"You sure picked a great store to work at, then," he teases.

"I like Halloween!" you insist. "I'm just tired of hearing the same fuckass song over and over again."

"Fair enough," he smiles. "But only one more week of this shit and then we're free."

"Thank god," you sigh with relief, but your heart sinks a little at the realization that you won't be seeing Joshua anymore come November. You realize you don't even have any idea what he does outside of spooky season — you've never asked.

"So, what will you be up to after this horrible place closes for the year?" you ask casually.

"Looking for another job," he says rolling his eyes. "Hopefully not for long. You would think having a degree would make it easier to find employment but alas."

"What's your degree in?"

"Environmental engineering."

You freeze mid-bite of sandwich.

"You're an engineer?!"

"Allegedly." He waves his hand in the air dismissively.

"Joshua that's literally so cool," you tell him, looking at him with bewilderment. "What the hell is an environmental engineer doing working at Spirit Halloween?"

"Job market sucks shit."

"Tell me about it," you agree dully. "I've been trying to get a permanent position for ages but apparently that's impossible."

"What do you do?" He looks at you with genuine interest — his focus on you is nothing more than friendly, but it's still making you feel a bit giddy inside.

"Oh, I'm a set designer. I work freelance for different television production studios. Also a pretty bleak job market these days," you relate with a glum smile. His eyes widen with intrigue.

"Whoa, that's awesome! I had no idea," he responds enthusiastically. He chuckles, letting out a huff of air. "Look at us — two intelligent adults with interesting careers and yet here we are, selling shitty Halloween decorations to get by."

You blush a little. The attention he's paying you is unexpected, but you're not complaining. And you know he didn't mean it like that, but the way he referred to the two of you as "us" makes you want to skip down the sidewalk whilst singing.

"Living the dream," you reply with a smile. "It's nice to have somebody to commiserate with in this hellhole of a store."

"Me too," he says, the corners of his crinkling softly as he smiles back at you. The flush in your cheeks starts to grow warmer; you pack up your things in your lunchbox and quickly rise from your chair.

"Well, guess I'd better get back out there before I get yelled at," you say, excusing yourself.

"What are you doing after work?"

You pause, turning back around to look at Joshua.

"Like, today?"

"Yeah," he nods.

"Nothing, why?"

"Wanna grab a drink?"

"Oh!" you reply, your face lighting up. "Yeah, um, that sounds great actually," you smile at him. "Though I might need more than one drink by the end of this shift."

"Oh, definitely," he agrees. "Awesome, well, good luck out there."

"You too. Try not to punch anyone."

He grins at you. "No guarantees, but I'll try."

You exit the break room, in such a good mood now that your manager gives you a confused look as you pass by, unused to seeing you so chipper. She nearly is about to question you, but instead she shrugs and returns to her task.

"Excuse me," a voice from behind you calls. You turn to see a customer approaching.

"Hi! How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for the 12-foot tall skeleton, do you have any in stock?"

"We don't sell those, unfortunately — that's Home Depot," you inform them cheerfully. "But here, let me show you some of our skeleton animatronics…"

"Do you have any weird talents?"

"Hm?" you ask as you take a sip of your drink. "Like what?"

Joshua sits across from you at the small bar table for two, the neon signs in the window making him glow a bit in the dim lighting. You're only slightly tipsy at this point, but when you get drunk you get flirty — and Joshua looks good as hell right now. It's taking everything in you not to be full-out swooning at him right now.

"I don't know, anything. Like how some people can wiggle their ears, or juggle."

"Oh, hmm… I don't think so," you reply. "Well maybe — I can solve a Rubik's cube, does that count?"

"Yeah! Stuff like that."

"I can also cry on command."

"Oh! That seems useful," he remarks sincerely.

You nod. "I used it to get out of a speeding ticket once."

"I didn't realize I was in the presence of a criminal mastermind," he grins at you.

"Yeah, I'm actually robbing a bank next weekend," you tell him with a straight face. "Wanna join?"

"Absolutely," he nods, playing along.

"Excellent. Well, how about you? What are your weird talents?"

"Let's see," he thinks. "I can walk in a handstand, do the worm, play the harmonica, I know a few card tricks… Oh! And I can do this."

He clasps his hands, squeezing his palms together repeatedly to make a fart noise.

You stare at him, giving him a confused look.

"Um, I don't know if I'd call that a talent…"

"Sure it is," he says matter-of-factly, looking at you excitedly as he continues to make the sound with his hands.

"Okay, okay, you're very talented," you concede with a hesitant laugh, grabbing his hands and shoving them back down onto the table. "But maybe don't do that in public."

He gives you a cheeky grin. "What, am I embarrassing you?" he teases.

"Only a little," you tease back.

He gazes at you for a moment, eyes filled with adoration and lips curved into a soft smile. Your stomach does a backflip as it hits you: he's definitely into you.

"Another drink might help with that," he tells you. "If you'd like."

"I would like," you nod eagerly.

"Another Dirty Shirley?" he asks as he hops off the tall chair.

"Surprise me."

Joshua returns a few minutes later with two Long Island iced teas.

"Oh my god," you groan. With a laugh you bury your face in your hand. "Immediately regretting that decision."

"I can get you something else-"

"No, this is good. I just think you might be crazy."

Joshua gasps dramatically, pretending to clutch his non-existent pearls.

"Crazy?? What nonsense!" he says in a British accent, for some reason.

"What, no one's ever told you that?" you jest playfully.

"Never. This is the first I'm hearing of this."

Your head falls back as you let out a hearty laugh.

"Well, you're definitely crazy," you tell him as you pick up your drink. "But I like it."

He grabs his drink as well, clinking the glass against yours.

"Cheers, I'll drink to that."

It is a moonless night. The trees around you dance in the brisk October wind, the remainder of their leaves rustling about; it isn't a particularly heavy wind, but it is biting — without the warmth of the midday sun, it chills you to your bones. You cross your arms as you stroll down the sidewalk, side by side with Joshua. You assured him he didn't need to walk you home, but he insisted. What if I want to walk you home?, he proposed with a goofy grin, eyelids hanging slightly in his tipsy state. Okay then, you answered giddily. You weren't terribly drunk, but inebriated enough that you couldn't help being so overtly smitten with him.

You've mostly sobered up now, as has he — the frigid air sharpening your senses as clearer thoughts return to your head. As soon as he notices you bracing yourself against the wind, he starts taking off his jacket.

"Here."

"No, it's okay-" you try to tell him, but he's already slinging the thick denim over your shoulders. It's warm — protecting you from the wind, but also from Joshua's body heat. Your heart flutters at the idea of being cocooned in his essence.

"Better?" he asks.

"Much better," you respond as you wrap yourself snugly with the garment. "Thank you."

"Of course," he smiles at you.

You chat with Joshua for the final few minutes of your walk, talking about nothing in particular but anything that comes to mind. It's comfortable, easy — you wish the night didn't have to end.

"This is it," you announce as you reach your building. You stop outside the entrance, turning to face Joshua; you find him standing much closer to you than you expected.

"Thank you," you tell him as you shrug the jacket off and hand it back to him. "For the jacket and for walking me home."

"Anytime," he says warmly, putting his coat back on. "Thanks for coming out with me tonight, I had a great time."

"Me too," you beam at him.

"This might be a little forward, and you can say no, but…" Your gaze meets his, waiting with anticipation to hear the words fall from his lips. He brushes your cold cheek with his warm hand. "Can I kiss you?"

A huge grin washes over your face.

"Absolutely."

Your heart pounds as he gently takes your chin, tilting your face to greet his as he leans in. Your eyes drift closed as your lips collide with his — they're plush, soft; he savors the taste of you as he kisses you unhurriedly. He rests his hand on your arm, holding your bicep in his grasp as his mouth presses tenderly against yours. When your lips finally part, you open your eyes again; they meet his, finding softness in his dark irises as he gazes sweetly at you.

"Let me give you my phone number," he says to you.

"Oh yeah," you smile. You pull out your phone and swapping devices with him, adding yourself to his contacts as he does the same for you. He hands you your phone back and you tuck it into your pocket.

"See you again soon?" he asks.

You giggle. "I mean yeah, we do work together, after all."

"Outside of work, I mean," he smiles, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Definitely," you agree with a nod.

"Good."

He leans in and gives you a quick peck on your cheek.

"Goodnight," he tells you softly. He walks off with a few backwards steps, so he can look at you for just a bit longer.

You open the door to your building, a rush of warm air hitting your grateful freezing body. You give him a wave.

"Goodnight," you say back. He smiles at you, then disappears into the dark night.

You wake up slowly the next morning, laying in bed half asleep for a few minutes, until you suddenly recall the events of last night. You bolt upright and immediately reach for your phone, anxiously hoping you find a text from Joshua, to make sure it wasn't all a dream. Sure enough, at the top of your notifications: Joshua Hong, 1 Unread Message.

Joshua: good morning :)

You send him a message back right away.

you: hi! good morning!

The typing bubble pops up moments after you send the text — he replies right away.

Joshua: what are you up to today? you: working, unfortunately 🙄 but at least i don't have to close tonight. hbu? Joshua: visiting my parents today! i hope your shift doesn't suck too much 🥲 you: i'm sure it will haha. it's always much better when you're around. Joshua: don't worry, i'll be there in SPIRIT 😏 you: bye 💀💀💀 Joshua: nooo don't go, i promise all of my jokes aren't that bad Joshua: just most of them you: you're a dork Joshua: thank you Joshua: i gotta head out now, but have a good day! tell everyone i don't miss them you: lmaooo u got it 🫡 enjoy your day! Joshua: oh and btw, just wanted to share one of my favorite songs. it reminds me of you :)

You click the Spotify link he sent. The app opens, playing a familiar tune.

"Sunday Morning rain is falling…"

You let the song play as you start to get ready for the day. Every time you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you notice the smile that seems to be permanently etched into your face today.

Finally, the day is here: Friday, October 31. You're so close to the end of this terrible no-good job — you just have to make it through your last shift.

Joshua is also scheduled to work — it's all hands on deck for the last-minute rush before trick-or-treat time. Unfortunately the chaos means you barely get to speak a word to him that isn't about candy buckets or Ghostface masks. You've been talking non-stop all week — you worked together a few times, but otherwise your schedules didn't really line up, so you haven't gotten to really hang out with him since the bar on Saturday. But you're determined to fix that as soon as possible.

You manage to catch him in the break room for approximately one minute. You were only running in to grab some ibuprofen from your bag, to remedy the headache you have due to working retail on a holiday. Joshua is on his lunch break, eating a bowl of oatmeal.

"What, no Cap'n Crunch today?" you tease as you breeze past him toward the staff lockers.

"It's too cold out for cold cereal," he tells you pragmatically.

"So you brought hot cereal."

"Exactly."

There is an additional employee lingering in the break room; you pretend to rummage through your bag, hoping they leave so you can actually talk to Joshua. By some miracle they make their exit right away — you seize the opportunity before someone else walks in.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Absolutely nothing," he says happily. "I've had enough of Halloween this year."

"Come over."

He looks up from his oatmeal, turning around to look at you.

"Really?" he asks eagerly.

"Yes, really. Come hang out at my place and we can celebrate this fucking holiday being over."

His eyes brighten, a grin spreading across his face. "Okay!" he responds enthusiastically. "That sounds great."

The door squeaks as it suddenly swings open. One of the managers walks in; you quickly put your bag away and head back into the store. You turn your head as you walk out the door. The manager's back is turned, so you mouth see you later to Joshua. He winks back at you, making your heart flutter. Immediately upon your return to the floor you are swamped with customers asking you stupid questions. Sighing to yourself, you plaster on a smile and answer in your best customer service voice.

The end of the shift simply can't come fast enough.

As soon as Spirit Halloween closes for the night and season, you book it the fuck out of there. You head home, flopping on the couch first thing, laying there silently in the dark for a good 30 minutes as you recover. Once you've recharged, you get up and start tidying up your place. It's not dirty by any means, but you want it to look extra nice. You shoot Joshua a text, telling him to come over whenever. He replies right away: be there at 8 :)

At 7:59pm, you hear a knock at your door. You flit over, looking through the peephole to make sure it's Joshua and not a serial killer — or worse, trick-or-treaters. You see Joshua, but he's dressed strangely. You open the door to see him standing there in a vampire cape — one of the cheap black and red ones you sold at the store. He smiles, revealing a pair of glow-in-the-dark fangs on his teeth.

"What on earth are you wearing??" you ask incredulously.

"What are you thalking about?" he asks, the plastic fangs causing him speak with a lisp. "This is jutht my outfith."

"Oh my god," you groan, rolling your eyes. You turn around and head back inside, but you don't hear him following you. You look back to see him still standing in the doorway.

"Are you gonna stand there all night?"

"I'm a fampire. You have tho invite me in."

You stare at him. "Joshua I am not doing that."

"Ith's the rules."

"Jesus fucking Christ," you laugh, but he sets down a slim brown paper bag he was apparently holding under his arm onto the floor. He then swoops the cape dramatically and runs off. You stand there, baffled. The door to the stairwell down the hallway opens with a creak, then shuts. You peek out into the hall, but Joshua is gone.

"What the fuck," you mutter to yourself. Assuming he's just pranking you, you wait for him to turn around and come right back, but he doesn't. Confused, you pick up the brown wine bag and bring it inside, setting it on the counter as you locate your phone and text Joshua.

you: ????

About a minute passes, no reply. You start to wonder if you just got stood up in the weirdest way possible when you hear a rap at the door again. You open it to see Joshua, again, this time dressed in a low-budget pirate costume — complete with hat, eyepatch, and scraggly fake beard.

"Arrr!" he shouts, waving a flimsy foam sword in your face. "I've come for yer booty!"

"Oh my GOD will you just get inside??" you beg, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him through the doorway before somebody sees him acting a fool.

"You're insane," you tell him as you shut your front door. He gives you a big shit-eating grin, clearly pleased with himself.

"I thought you said you liked that I was crazy?"

"I do, but you're clearly just trying to embarrass me on purpose," you reply, also grinning. He may be an idiot, but you can't actually be mad at him.

"It's because I like you," he says, following you into the kitchen. He backs you into the counter, spinning you around as he rests his palms on the granite surface. He towers over you as he leans in, the sudden closeness makes you flustered. He puckers his lips, going in to give you a kiss, but you stop him, grabbing the foam sword out of his hand and bopping him on the head with it.

"Hey!"

"You can kiss me, but for the love of god please get rid of the beard first."

"Okay, okay, fair enough," he concedes, tossing the pirate hat aside and pulling the eyepatch and beard off his face. You take the opportunity to reach for the brown bag, finding a bottle of red wine inside.

"Wow, this looks nice," you remark as you open a drawer, retrieving your bottle opener.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I asked the guy at the wine shop to give me the finest wine he had, as long as it was under $30."

You laugh, popping the cork out and pouring each of you a glass. "What, you mean working at Spirit didn't leave you rolling in cash?"

"Shockingly, no," he replies. You hand him a glass, raising yours to his with a clink as they touch.

"Well luckily for us I am able to afford Netflix, thanks to my friend forgetting to log out of her account on my tv and me using it secretly for free," you tell him. "Care for a scary movie?"

"Sounds perfect," he beams at you. You take his free hand and head into the living room together. He takes a seat on your couch, you joining him, squeezing in close right next to him; you lean your head against his shoulder as you turn on the tv and start scrolling through Netflix.

"Anything in particular you wanna watch?" you ask.

"Whatever you'd like," he answers. He rests his spare hand atop your thigh, rubbing you gently with his thumb. You're a little too distracted right now to think of a movie, so you click on the first one you see. It's one you've never heard of, but you're not terribly interested in actually watching a movie right now anyway — not when you have Joshua so very close to you.

You make it about four minutes into the movie when he takes your wine glass, setting both his and yours down on the coffee table. He wraps his arms around you, drawing you in close, leaning his face into yours so your noses touch.

"Now can I kiss you?" he asks softly. The way that he gazes at you tells you he is interested in doing much more than just kissing — but it's a great place to start.

"Please," you whisper back.

His lips press into yours, bringing you back to the sensation you've been dreaming about since you did it once a week ago. Your hand rests on his chest; you can feel his heartbeat thumping, its pace accelerating the longer he kisses you — and he doesn't have any plans to stop anytime soon. Your hands glide around to his back, clinging to him as you squeeze his torso. One of his hands strays, traversing slowly down your side — it rests on the side of your thigh for a few moments, caressing it through your leggings, the intimacy making your skin tingle under his touch. Suddenly he slips his arm underneath your legs, lifting them up and over his own, pulling you onto his lap. You toss your arms around his neck, putting yourself in a position to draw your body in even closer, pressing your chest into his. You feel his mouth twitch into a smile; he reaches for your breast, lightly resting his hand atop it.

"Is this okay?" he asks softly as he ceases kissing you momentarily. His eyes are locked onto yours, gazing at you longingly. You answer by grabbing his hand and squishing it into your boob. A grin spreads across his face — he kisses you again, squeezing your breast eagerly as his mouth grasps hungrily at your lips. Your core starts to ache, heating swelling between your legs at his touch; you press your thighs together in an attempt to quell the sensation — but with Joshua feeling you up relentlessly, it only makes it worse.

You subtly start to grind against his lap as you make out with him, heat rising in the air as your bodies intertwine. Eventually Joshua's lips relocate to your neck, kissing the tender skin delicately as he holds you tight in his arms. You let out a soft, involuntary gasp; it feels incredible — and you desperately want more.

"Joshua…" you plead. He plants a final kiss under your jaw, then raises his face to greet yours again. His expression is drunk with lust — and you can only imagine you look the same.

"Yes?" he asks, staring at you with anticipation.

"I want you."

His pupils dilate, eyes widening excitedly.

"I want you too," he whispers, cupping your cheek in his hand. You give him another kiss, then slide your legs off his lap, hopping to your feet as you take his hands in yours and pull at him excitedly. He rises; you intertwine your fingers with his as you lead him into your bedroom. You fall onto your bed together, rolling around and kissing each other with aching desperation. He rolls on top of you, delightfully crushing you with his body weight as he peppers a series of smooches all over your face, making you giggle. Your thighs instinctively spread, allowing him to lay into you. You hum as he presses against your core, cunt pulsating at his touch; wrapping your arms around him you pull him in even closer, causing him to let out a low groan.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters, pressing more kisses into your cheek. You bask in the delicate attention he's giving you, soft touches causing sharp pangs of desire in your gut.

"Can I go down on you?" he quietly asks in your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

"Oh my god, please," you beg. He slips a large hand beneath your sweater, feeling the softness of your stomach, before pushing the garment up in request for its removal. You quickly pull it off and toss it aside, leaving you in your bra. Joshua plants a kiss between your breasts, then starts kissing his way down your body. You feel his fingers slip underneath your waistband, tugging down gently; you lift your hips, allowing him to remove your leggings. He slides them down to your ankles, pulling them off with a snap as the elastic slips over your feet. He drops them to the floor and hurriedly pulls your underwear off, yanking them with such vigor that they practically go flying across the room. He then grabs the underside of your thighs, folding you in half as he situates himself between your legs.

"Are you comfy?" he asks gently, sending a chill up your spine as he slowly drags one finger over your slit. You nod eagerly. "Good," he replies, smiling as he lowers his lips onto your clit, giving it the most gentle of kisses. He circles the tip of his tongue delicately around the excited bud a few times, making you hum with pleasure. It drifts down to your hole, finding slick wetness as he presses his tongue into your entrance. You gasp softly, your body reacting to the sensation; he pushes down on the backs of your thighs, holding you in place as he gets to work. His nose bumps into your clit as he works his tongue inside you, making you moan as he dives in. He drags his tongue lazily up and down your folds, tasting every last bit of you.

"God, your pussy is incredible," he groans into your cunt. Making his way back to your clit he suddenly latches on — crying out, you run your fingers through his hair, holding on as he starts to suck on it, the light and quick pulses of his mouth making your head spin. You look down to watch him, his face and nose glistening with your juices as he works at your clit.

"Want your fingers in me," you tell him breathily. He grins, continuing sucking as he glides his middle finger inside you, working it in and out of your hole. It feels incredible, but you instantly crave more.

"One more," you plead. He adds his index finger, stretching you as he flicks his tongue over your throbbing bud. You feel your body tense, breathing heavily as you feel your orgasm coming on.

"I'm really close," you tell him as your eyes begin to flicker back. "Don't stop."

And he doesn't. Sucking on you relentlessly as he fucks you with his fingers, the heat swelling in your core suddenly explodes. You cum, grinding your hips into his mouth as you tighten your grasp on his hair. Despite you practically shoving his face into your cunt, he keeps his pace; you ride the waves of your high, savoring every moment of it before you eventually start to come down. He slows, releasing his hold on your clit in favor of kissing it softly.

"That was fucking incredible," you mumble, winded. You let go of his hair, arms flopping to your sides as you relax into the mattress. He gives your cunt a final kiss before lifting himself up, crawling back on top of you. He's hard now — his erection glaringly obvious in his jeans. You reach for the bulge, kneading it gently in your hand, making him groan.

"Please fuck me," you beg immediately — no time to waste when you're both this horny. He smiles, eyelids heavy as he gazes hungrily at you.

"Say less," he replies. In a flash he stands up, retrieving a small shiny packet from his pocket.

"I see you came prepared," you giggle breathily, still recovering from your orgasm. Joshua smiles.

"I wasn't sure, but... I had a feeling."

He holds it with his teeth while he disrobes, his stiffened dick standing tall in the air as he shimmies out of his clothes. You grin, excitement tingling in your core at the sight of the thick and veiny cock — and the prospect of it being inside you. Ripping the packet open he quickly wraps the condom over his length, jerking himself a few times once it's in place. He crawls back on top of you, slipping his hand underneath your back, lifting you up so he can undo the clasp of your bra. You remove it, both of you now fully nude. He presses his body into yours, his heat radiating to your skin; his tip bumps against your entrance, making his cock twitch. He grabs ahold of it, guiding the head up and down over your pussy a few times.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice gravelly.

"Yeah," you exhale. The way you're laying there beneath him, legs spread and hips bucking softly in anticipation, staring up at him in desperation to be fucked — it is the hottest thing he's ever seen.

"Okay," he whispers. As his large hand wraps around his base he slowly pushes the head inside you; it slips readily into your hole, your walls wavering as he gradually fills you with his length, gripping around his cock so intensely it makes his head spin. With a gentle thrust his entire cock is now inside you, making you gasp.

"Fuck that's a lot of cock," you blurt out. He laughs, face turning pink in slight embarrassment.

"If it's too much I can-"

"Nonono," you cut him off, your hands clinging to his waist as you adjust to his size. "It's perfect."

He grins, the ego boost making his dick throb inside you. He slowly starts to pull his length back out, stopping just before his tip pops out of your entrance, then slowly pushes it all back in. You let out a moan as he reaches deep, stuffing you completely full with his thickness.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, just to be sure he's not overwhelming you — but judging by your soft eyes, furrowed brow, and slightly-parted lips, he's pretty sure he knows the answer.

"Yeah," you moan. He starts fucking you, falling into a steady, rhythmic pace — not taking his eyes off you as he watches you eagerly take his cock.

"Oh my god your pussy is amazing," he groans, increasing his pace. Your eyelids flutter back, whines escaping your lips as Joshua thrusts into you insatiably. He pushes your arms above your head, resting them on the pillow as he pins each of your wrists to the bed with a large, strong hand. You gaze up at him, pathetic and fucked-out, whimpering with each pounding stroke.

"Feels so fucking good, baby," he cries out with abandon, euphoria overtaking him as he reaches orgasm. "Ohhhhh fuck I'm cumming…"

He releases, moans flowing from his open mouth, eyes rolling back into his head as his cock pulsates against your throbbing walls. He cums hard, grunting and groaning as if it's the best orgasm he's ever hard — which quite frankly, it is.

"Oh my goddd," he moans as the tension in his body melts away, thrusts slowing as he gradually comes back to earth. He collapses onto you, releasing his grip on your wrists, his hands sliding up to intertwine his fingers with yours. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, his labored breaths hot on your skin as he recovers.

"That was incredible," he mutters, his low voice in your air giving you an enticing chill. He lifts his head up, gazing down at you lovingly. "You're incredible." Smiling shyly, you kiss him, locking your lips together as you breathe deeply. When your mouths part again, you see a big, goofy grin spread across his face — the same one you saw the night he first kissed you, except now even more enamored.

"What?" you giggle at him.

"Nothing," he replies. "You're just unbelievably beautiful."

"Don't tell me that, I'll fall in love with you," you tell him with a soft laugh. His eyes crinkle as he smiles.

"What if I want you to fall in love with me?"

"Well," you answer, gushing like an idiot. "Then I have good news for you."

His eyes light up. He plants a big kiss on your lips, gently pulling his cock out of you as he does so.

"Wait here," he tells you softly as he gets up. You shiver at the sudden lack of body heat, but he returns quickly with a towel, getting you cleaned up before tucking you under the covers. You grab his hand, tugging at him.

"Get in here."

He joins you under the blankets, wrapping you in his arms as he takes you in as his little spoon. He nestles his face next to yours as he snuggles into you.

"I thought Halloween was going to be ruined for me after this year," you tell him, wrapping your arms around his. "But maybe it's okay after all."

"Well, this is definitely the best Halloween I've ever had," he says contentedly as he kisses your cheek. "All thanks to my sexy pirate costume."

"Despite your stupid pirate costume," you correct. He lets out a laugh.

"What are you doing for Christmas?"

"Hm?" you respond, confused. "You're already thinking about Christmas?"

"I'm thinking about how I'd like to spend it with you."

"Oh," you say softly, smiling excitedly. "I'd like that."

"Me too," he replies. "Maybe if I get lucky you'll let me call you my girlfriend to get my parents off my ass about how single I've been."

"I mean, you can just call me your girlfriend in general."

"Oh! Even better," he responds with a grin, squeezing you in his arms. "I didn't want to move too fast or anything-"

"Eh, who cares," you interject. "I like you. Fuck it."

"You're right," he agrees. "Fuck it!"

"What'd'ya say we go finish that wine and pretend to watch the rest of that movie?" you propose.

"Oh yeah, the movie. What were we watching again?"

"No idea."

"Great," he chuckles. "Fine with me, I don't want to leave yet."

"Don't leave."

You turn around, rolling on top of a surprised-looking Joshua.

"Stay the night. Stay with me."

He beams at you. He didn't want to impose, but he was hoping and praying you would ask.

"I'd love to," he smiles. His soft eyes rest on yours; they are filled with fondness, adoration — much more than you would expect from someone you haven't known very long, but it just feels right. And that's something you very much look forward to getting used to.

taglist 1: @miniseokminnies @minisugakoobies @kwonxy @aaniag @princessjazzyjazz 

@christinewithluv @choco-scoups @unlikelysublimekryptonite @lostmembrane @hearts4cheol

@ninigyuuu @tokitosun @bonsaijoons @reiofsuns2001 @hluisstuff

@meowchella @asyre @hipsdofangirl @dy-kyeom @haoxiaoba

@boltersworldblog @nidda13 @mae-murdock @renapersa @alikesical

[seungkw1]

taglist 2: @humanitysstrongestsoldier1 @mytangerine98 @a-thln @riddlerloveb0t @fancypeacepersona 

@floverchwe @ybimoon @j3nnch3ls3a @eternalsagacrusader @livelaughloveseventeen 

@sevenpersona @chirocatic @jbear00 @strxwberry-skiess @coupsarchive

@fairwanda @Starlightlovr @bearynicesworld @naatggeo @severeanxietyissues

[praguegirl]

let’s settle this shit but do NOT reblog if you’re gonna be modest about it like a little BITCH. anyway privilege check tell me which ones apply to you: hot, funny, can dance, can do math, can spell, can drive, can cook

[sevenpersona]

I dance, I'm pretty, can drive, and can spell and do math :)))

[callmecallmecallmenow]

💋❤️Being BTS’s Secret Admirer❤️💋

Genre: Fluff, non idol au, high school au

A/N: This was originally supposed to be a Valentine’s post🫣😞

💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️

Jin: You leave him small goodie bags filled with Laffy Taffy’s and Super Mario gummies. There’s never a name attached to the bags, but he can always tell it’s from the same person; a light blue silk bag decorated with pastel stars. The top is perfectly wrapped with a thin purple ribbon.

| Jin hasn’t received anything from you for a week. He’s become accustomed to the daily rush to his locker to grab his little gifts; so, going without them feels torturous.

Did you stop liking him?

Have you moved on to someone else?

Did you die?

He ponders woefully as he slugs to his locker. Slowly opening it, he expects nothing but is pleasantly surprised. He sees your signature bag and a note attached.

It took me forever to find this. I hope you like it! It reminds me of you.

It’s a liquid keychain in the shape of a star. Little star flakes surround the dark blue water making it look like a small galaxy; in the middle stands a smiling astronaut grinning back at him. |

Yoongi: you leave him a small Tupperware of cut/peeled fruit; green apples, oranges, pears, and pineapples fill the containers to the brim. The top of them always has a little note of encouragement to keep him going.

| Yoongi languidly paced to his locker. He had stayed up all night studying for midterms while producing his newest demo; he looked like a dead man walking.

“Yo! Yoongi!”

“Hi, Hobi.” He lifelessly sighed as he turned the combination of his decaying lock pad.

“Rough night?”

He nodded as he opened his eyes to his locker. Inside, he found a small can of cold coffee sweating lightly, as though it had been freshly placed there. Next to it lay the usual small Chococat Tupperware filled with cut apples and peeled grapes, with a note on top.

“For you. I added the drink because I thought you needed the extra kick…”

He lightly smiled as he looked at it. He’s always surprised by how lovely you are.|

Hobi: You give him a mishmash of things: small plushies, enamel pins, and bag charms of things that remind you of him. Once you even gave him a bag of crystals and rocks you had tumbled. He can’t help but feel spoiled with all the love that you give him.

|Hoseok is always in a rush to his locker. His Snoopy keychain is chaotically thrown back and forth; hitting his Charlie Brown and Hello Kitty enamel pins as he runs past the current. He was ecstatic to see what you left him today. He finally reaches it; he can’t wait to experience your daily love again.

He looks inside to find a small silver rose necklace with a row of 7s hanging off the thin chain. He then picks up a less refined green and white beaded bracelet with bubble letters reading “Lucky boy.”

He widely smiles and giggles excitedly as he puts on his new accessories. He checks himself out in the small daisy-shaped mirror in his locker; his reflection is ruddy.

“Cute!”

He hopes he can meet you soon. |

Namjoon: You give him 2nd hand books filled with love letters and poems. The pages have a mellow yellow color that he finds comforting. You dog tag and write notes on the ones that remind him of you.

| Namjoon feels flustered when he’s at his locker. He was used to being admired, but not so intimately. He walks with his head down with a shy smile on his face. He thinks of the last poem

You gave him. “I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride” It makes him exposed; he doesn’t mind it. He opens his locker; what he finds is unexpected. A small letter with a small red wax seal. It has small cracks from where the wax dried too quickly, making it look sloppy; still, he opens it softly. Inside is a small, artificially aged letter.

Dearest Moonchild,

Would you allow me to float as a small star in your vast galaxy?

If only so I could stand beside

And admire you.

He leans his head onto his locker. The handwriting is shaky and the paper has unintended tears. The ink is smudged in random spots. It’s average work at best, but it means the world to him.|

V: You give him simple crochet and needle felted gifts along with small, blunt notes. He was confused at first about your intentions, but now he keeps the crocheted items on his shelf and the stack of notes next to the wall of his desk.

| “Bro, will you stop?”

Tae crinkles his eyes and turns a blush pink as his smile becomes toothy.

Jungkook caught him looking at the sticky note you left him between their shared English class.

“I can’t help it.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes so hard that they strain. He always acts like this whenever you give him something. It was the same with the crocheted heart, the needle felted bunny, and the 2 small bear plushies holding hands that you hand stitched.

“Whipped.”

He sasses as he looks at Tae, who ventured into his rose-colored world.

He couldn’t help it; the note you had given him was so sweet.

“I like the way your lips curve.”

It was simple, but spoke miles to him. Most of your notes were simple:

“Your hair looks good.”

“I made you this.”

“It’s pretty.”

This was specific for you; it was almost poetic. He looks at the sticky note and smiles sweetly. He’ll keep this one on his desk instead.|

Jungkook: You leave him endless snacks. Banana milk, shrimp crackers, and peperos fill his locker galore. He knows they’re from the same person because you leave a miffy drawing on all his snacks.

| “I’m starving. Jungkook, can you share some of your snacks with me?” Jin groans.

“Fuck no.”

“Why not?” He demands.

“ Cause it’s mine and it’s special.” He goads.

“You’re an ass.” Jin sighs as he lays his head down on his desk.

Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said they were special; obviously, they’re nothing but convenience store snacks delicately stuffed into his locker. Still, knowing that someone spent enough time to give him gifts filled him with warmth. He quickly finishes the bag of chips and looks at the little rabbit drawing on the side of the bag; without fail, you leave that drawing on everything you give him. He traces it lightly with his fingers, pondering how you look. If you’re as sweet and cute as your gifts make you seem to be; you might be the complete opposite. You could be tough, even nasty, but Jungkook doesn’t think he’d mind either way. He just wants to see you.

“Jungkook, teacher’s on his way,” Jin whispers.

“Oh shit!”

He’ll meet you one day. |

Jimin: You leave him flowers from your mother’s flower shop and Sonny angels. He is confused on why you give them, but he uses the angels as good luck charms.

| Jimin is devastated.

The white and blue daisies you had given him on Monday had begun to wilt. He sulked to his mother with dewy eyes.

“Why don’t you try pressing them?” She said softly.

He grabs last year's math textbook and opens it to a random page. He leaves the book spread as he carefully clips the stems of his precious gift. He places them over the printed equations and begins to close the book. It feels wrong as he presses down the cover and sees the beginning crinkling between the pages; he’s ruining something beautiful, but he has to. He needs to preserve it. He never knows what can happen. He places a large textbook on it and leaves it overnight. He can’t look at it.

He wakes up early to look at the flowers. The petals flatten and come off in place; he can see the pollen dusting off, giving the obsolete textbook a muddy yellow look. Still, he smiles fondly at the flowers; it’s imperfect, but beautiful. He takes a picture of it and leaves it as his wallpaper. He looks at it during his breaks and it gives him butterflies.

The next day you give him dwarf sunflowers. |

💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️💋❤️

[ur-daily-inspiration]

[cuntjunhui-remade-deactivated20]

bitches that don't like kpop are so boring nobody wants to listen to shawn mendes bitch put Mansae on

[pasta-is-magnificent]

[kingscrown666]

[anarchist-rat-swarm]

M-M-M-MULTIKILL!

[what-if-doctor-who-was-yuri-yaoi]