genre: fluff, girl dad vernon cuz why not ;)
wc: <1k
a/n: welp, ig i'm sorry i kinda disappeared from here 😔 💔 personal life was busy, but im back, and i'll try to write more over here! i also wanna thank my friend for motivating me with the idea of girldad vernon. i owe you one 🥹 ✊🏼
It’s a rather quiet evening. Sunlight filters in through the bedroom windows. The curtains sway slightly from the gentle breeze that is flowing outside.
The house is quiet, save for whatever program is playing on the tv, long forgotten. Vernon is sitting on a sofa, and in his lap sits his three year old daughter Lily. Her face is scrunched in the kind of focus only toddlers her age could muster. Her hair is messy, stray strands covering her forehead—a result of the countless hours she spent playing around.
Vernon scrunches his face as Lily holds a bright red lipstick in her hands.
“Appa focus!” she says, leaning over, as she carefully presses it against his lips. Vernon goes perfectly still as he lets his daughter doodle on his face.
“Okay. just like this." She says, nodding her head as she squints her eyes at her dad.
Vernon sighs but the corner of his lips turn upwards, a small smile playing on his lips as he looks at his daughter fussing over his makeup. Your makeup is messed up in the vanity, a lip stick rolled down here, a mascara placed there. The makeup brushes are long forgotten on the floor at this point.
“You know your mama will not be too happy about this right?” Vernon asks his daughter as she attempts to stand in his lap. He feels lily dab a brush against his cheeks. Bright red powder falls on his t-shirt, and Vernon can't help the chuckle that escapes his lips as he looks at his situation.
“Look at this appa, you look so pretty.’ she states as she looks at the artwork she created on his face, nodding her head in approval.
“Hmm, Is that so?” Vernon asks Lily and she hums. “You look pretty just like mama” she states.
...............................
You don't know whether to laugh or cry. Standing in the door, the words of greeting die in your mouth when you look at the state of your bedroom.
“...and what do we have here?” you ask, stepping in, wincing as you take in the image of your husband. There he is, hair pulled in lopsided ponytails with glittery rainbow pins, lipstick smudged across his cheeks. And somehow he still looks so pretty?
The cause of this tiny chaos seems to recognize you there too, because she's grinning as she gets off Vernon's lap.
“Mama look! I did appa’s makeup!” she chirps.
“Oh did you now?’ you ask, glaring at Vernon and the tiny monster standing in front of you now.
“Ahm," Lily puffs out her chest. "I told appa he looks just as pretty as you do.” she says, as she proudly looks back at you, you scowl at Vernon and he raises his hands up in mock surrender.
“I can explain." he scrambles. "I was forced into it” he grins sheepishly, holding his hands up in surrender. and despite yourself, despite the mess on the table and that the lipstick was now practically useless, you can't help but let out a giggle.
The giggle turns into a full laugh the moment Vernon actually turns to look at the side mirror and you see the way realization hits him. He looks like a love struck mess.
“Oh you little devil." he says, grabbing your daughter as she tries to run away shrieking. You can't help as you take out your phone recording the whole thing because it's so silly. Yes you're mad that a mess was created but there is a sense of fondness as you look at the way Vernon laughs as his daughter tugs against his grip. Vernon grins back at you, his eyes turning into crescents.
Clearing your throat you put your phone back and walk over to them, Vernon immediately pulls you close, whispering a quiet “sorry for the mess.” as he places a small kiss against your head.
You merely shrug your shoulders as you sigh. “I don't mind if it makes you look this funny. It was funny." You add and Vernon smiles against your cheeks, as you both look over at your daughter who is now busy playing with her stuffed toys in the corner.
“But you do owe me a new lipstick though.” you frown at your husband.
"That was a given after the mess we made." Vernon says as he leans his head against your shoulders.
“And no more experiments with my makeup.” you hold your finger up, giving him your best glare.
“I make no promise," Vernon says, you lunge at him but he is quick, laughing as he suddenly runs off to where Lily is playing.
“Hey! Get back here, you need to clean the mess, " you yell behind him.
“Coming right up,” Vernon says, picking your daughter as he grabs a pack of wet wipes to clean the room.
And despite Vernon looking like a goofy ball, with your tiny menace of a daughter trailing right behind with her usual mischievous grin—you think you don't mind having your makeup ruined. You love your family and the cute mess they make. And you won't have it any other way.
synopsis all it took was a release of a song (or two) to get their attention back (not that you didn’t want it)
pairings hhu [separate] idol!S.Coups x idol!reader, idol!Wonwoo x idol!reader, idol!Mingyu x idol!reader, idol!Vernon x idol!reader
warnings part smau, fluff, breakup, some sad moments
a/n AHHH i had so much fun writing this ! I was supposed to finish this months ago but me being a procastinator, I didn't finish it till a few days ago. do let me know if you want a part for the vocal unit and performance unit !
ᯓᡣ𐭩 S.COUPS - LOSING HIM WAS BLUE
RED - taylor swift
It was a Wednesday night when you finally decided to release the song you’d been working on for months. "C'mon, it’s not that deep. He probably won’t even see it," you muttered to yourself. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case. The song in question was about your ex—the same ex you dated for two long years without ever going public about it.
Yes, you’ve been broken up for a few months now, and yes, you haven’t seen him since. It’s not that you ended on bad terms. And it’s not as if you were avoiding him (even though you were). It’s just that you’ve been so busy with your job, and so has he—which is very true.
That was the reason you both decided to end things anyway. It was the peak of your careers and a crucial time for both of you. He was on tour, and you were creating new songs every other day—most of them about him, but no one knows since your upcoming album hasn't been released yet.
Sitting on your comfy sofa, which has felt emptier these past few months, you realized just how much you actually missed him.
Your finger hovered over the 'post now' button, hesitating as you contemplated releasing the song onto your SoundCloud. You hadn't told your agency or manager about this song, so you might get in trouble for it, but YOLO, right? You pressed it, closed your computer, and shut your eyes as you lay in silence.
A part of you hoped he never hears the song, but another part of you yearned for him to. You wanted something to happen when he listened—something, anything at all. You never truly wanted to break up, but your careers got in the way, or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself. Juggling work and your relationship was incredibly difficult, and breaking up seemed like the best option at that time. But you were wrong—very wrong. These past few months without Seungcheol have been harder than any other breakup you've experienced. Seeing him only on your screen is torture. Not being able to hold him, call him, or even text him simple messages like "Congratulations on your new album" or "How has your day been?" was something you never imagined you'd have to endure.
Suddenly, notifications started blowing up your phone.
"Gojo’s left toe? Seungcheol’s cake? Thanos' kidney stones?" You chuckled, shaking your head in bewilderment. Sometimes, you just couldn't wrap your mind around fans and their humor. You kept scrolling, reading their wild theories and debating over who this “mystery” person could be. You wondered if he had seen the post yet. It had only been 30 minutes, but Seungcheol had an uncanny knack for knowing things too quickly. You sighed as a yawn escaped your lips and mused, probably just a bunch of insomniac fans like me. Before you knew it, you had slipped into a deep, exhausted slumber.
You were jolted awake by your phone blaring in your ear. It was 7 a.m., and your manager had already called twice. “Did you sleepwalk out of your house without realizing it? Did you drink and accidentally post a drunk photo? What did you do?” Your manager never called this early unless it was extremely urgent.
You answered the call groggily. “Were you drunk last night?” your manager questioned. Were you? You didn’t think so. “Why am I getting notifications from different apps tagging you in posts about a new song? You didn't think to tell me about it first?”
“I just thought it was about time I released that song,” you said slowly, carefully considering your next words.
“Is the company angry about this?” you inquired.
“Thankfully not. You're lucky the song is performing exceptionally well. Is it about who I think it is?” The question was posed hesitantly.
She knew about your relationship and the breakup. Your manager was like your best friend; you could confide in her about anything, and she in you.
“Yeah,” was all you could muster.
“Well, keep up the good work and remember to prepare for your upcoming album,” she reminded you as she ended the call.
You knew she wanted to say more, but she also knew you—the you that cried almost every night after the breakup, listening to heart-wrenching sad songs during nearly every waking minute.
You decided to check the status of your impromptu single. Opening up your SoundCloud and seeing the number of views made your heart race. You were fully awake now. The number 1 million was plastered on your screen. None of the songs you had released on SoundCloud had ever reached 1 million views overnight—how was this possible? This was an incredible way to start your day.
You had planned to sleep in, as you had nothing scheduled, but after the 7 a.m. wake-up call from your manager and the overwhelming response from fans, you were wide awake. “Might as well get ready,” you thought to yourself as you got up to take a shower and freshen up.
Pulling on one of your many black oversized hoodies, you decided to head to a nearby cafe that had recently opened. They were promoting a butter latte as their top seller, and you wanted to give it a try. Not forgetting to put on a mask, you walked to the little cafe while listening to some of your favorite Spotify hits.
It was a Thursday morning, so it wasn’t crowded, but there were still people queuing for their morning coffee before heading to their mundane office jobs. While waiting for your coffee, a tall, well-built man suddenly bumped into you, nearly spilling his coffee on you. You’d say it was a normal occurrence until the words “Are you okay?” slipped out of his mouth.
That voice. You’d recognize it anywhere. You looked up to see a man checking to see if any of his coffee had spilled on you when he stilled. He was wearing a mask, but you could still recognize him. A man whose eyes you knew so well, and he knew you too. Your eyes widened, still looking into his, too shocked to say anything. “ORDER FOR Y/N” broke you out of your trance. You took your coffee and thanked the waiter. You made eye contact with the man for a split second before practically running out of the cafe.
“Y/N.” That deep baritone voice, the one you knew you couldn’t avoid now.
“Seungcheol.” you stated, looking into his deep brown eyes you loved so much.
“We’ve gotta talk, don’t you think?” he asked, searching your eyes, seeking a flicker of agreement, a silent confirmation that matched his thoughts. There was no turning back now.
“Yeah, we should.” you agreed. “We could go back to my place.”
He didn’t say anything, just nodded, releasing his grip from your wrist. The spot where his hand had been remained warm, the lingering heat a silent testament to the intensity of his touch.
Walking home was awkward, to say the least. No words were exchanged, only the soft tap tap tap of your footsteps as you both walked the familiar route to your home.
It was only when you sat down on the sofa and tapped the seat next to you that he spoke his first words in eight minutes.
“It’s been a long few months without you, Y/N,” Seungcheol started. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so you let him continue. “I really thought that going our separate ways was the best option for both of us. And I know you felt the same. So when you agreed to the breakup, I felt there wasn’t any issue. Until a few days later when I realized it was wrong. Wrong that you were gone, and wrong that I couldn’t talk to you as freely as I did. It felt like a part of me was missing, and it was driving me mad. But seeing you perform and release your music kept me going. I thought you were fine, seeing you on the billboards. I thought you were, until last night, when you uploaded that song on your SoundCloud.” He was looking at you now. “Fans were going crazy, and when I heard it for the first time, I couldn’t stop listening to it. Because now I know that you still feel the same, like I do.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, emotions flooding your body. Shock? Happiness? Everything came crashing all at once. You kept yourself from bawling, wiping away the tears that fell as you looked at him. “I haven’t stopped loving you, Seungcheol. These few months have been nothing but difficult without having you to talk to. You were someone who took my stress away, and trying to forget you was like trying to know someone I’ve never met.” You and Seungcheol made silent eye contact before you continued. “Cheol…” You were surprised how easily the nickname slipped out. “These few months taught me that you’re my home and that you’re the someone I want to spend my life with.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do, ‘cause I don’t see myself spending my life with anybody else. I love you, Cherry.” You smiled at the nickname. You always loved it when he called you Cherry.
“I love you, too, Cheol.”
ᯓᡣ𐭩 WONWOO - ALWAYS GONNA WANT YOU BACK
WANT YOU BACK - 5 seconds of summer
wish you the best - lewis capaldi
It's been 2 months, 18 days, and 9 hours since you last spoke to Wonwoo.
It's also been 2 months, 18 days, and 9 hours since you decided to end your relationship with him.
And during that tim, you had been questioning whether you did the right thing.
It was 1 a.m., and you were lying in bed, eyes red and swollen from crying—just like every other night since Wonwoo walked out of your apartment. The pain of losing not just your boyfriend of two years but also your best friend since childhood had left you hollow. You had locked yourself away, the weight of regret pressing down on you like an anchor.
Music had always been your refuge, and in the aftermath of your breakup, it became your lifeline. You wrote, composed, and poured your emotions into lyrics, leaving behind a trail of unfinished melodies. Sixty-four drafts, only two completed songs—both about him. Both scheduled for release within the week.
Your manager had urged you to do interviews or at least update your social media, but you couldn’t bear the thought of facing the world. You compromised, convincing her that releasing the singles was enough. The songs would speak for you in ways you couldn’t.
The world never knew about your relationship with Wonwoo. Fans speculated, but neither of you ever confirmed anything. Only your close friends and family knew, and even they were in the dark about the breakup. You weren’t sure if Wonwoo had told anyone, but you hadn’t—not because you wanted to keep it secret, but because admitting it aloud made it real. It made it final. And a part of you weren’t ready to admit that yet.
Your fans never knew you and Wonwoo dated. Sure, there were speculations, but they weren't ever that serious. They knew that the both of you were childhood friends, as you both have mentioned it a few times in interviews or just casually. A few of your friends your parents and your managers knew, but you didn't tell them that you broke up. You're not sure if Wonwoo told them, but you didn't want to say it as you felt as if you were disappointing them for some reason, considering how close your parents and Wonwoo's parents were.
As the release date of your songs approached, you couldn't help but feel nervous. You had told your manager that you didn't want to do any promotions for this release, as it meant so much to you and you wanted the reaction from the fans to be genuine. These songs weren’t just music—they were pieces of your soul. You had never released anything this raw, this personal. Would people understand? Would he?
On the eve of the release, you found yourself in the studio. You weren't sure what compelled you to finally step out of the house, but something about that day drove you there. It had been a few months since you released new music, and this was different from your usual style. The quiet hum of the empty space a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind.
You played the songs one last time, each lyric cutting deep, each note a reminder of what you had lost. By the time the final melody faded, tears blurred your vision, but for the first time in months, you felt lighter. Maybe this was what closure felt like.
The next morning, as the songs officially went live on streaming platforms, you decided to post a heartfelt message on your Instagram. With a steady deep breath, you wrote:
“These songs are a part of me, a reflection of my journey over the past few months. I hope they resonate with you as deeply as they do with me. Thank you for being a part of this journey.”
As you hit 'post,' you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. For the first time in months, you were finally able to breathe freely. The outpouring of love and support from your fans was immediate and overwhelming, reaffirming your decision to share your music in the most authentic way possible.
The response was overwhelming. Within five hours, the singles had amassed three million streams. Fans flooded your comments with love and support, their words a soothing balm to your raw emotions. Still, one question haunted you—had Wonwoo listened?
Just as you were about to turn off your phone, it buzzed. Your mother’s name lit up the screen.
“Y/N-ah! Finally, you answer! I was so worried about you! Were you ever going to call?”
“Sorry, Mom…” Your voice was hoarse from lack of sleep, from crying too much, from feeling too much.
“You’re coming home for dinner tomorrow,” she declared, leaving no room for argument. “No excuses.”
Knowing your mother, there was no way out of this. With a sigh, you agreed.
Later that evening, you packed a bag and took the KTX home, the rhythmic hum of the train doing little to calm your nerves. The familiar streets of your neighborhood passed in a blur, memories of a younger, happier you flashing in your mind. Home felt distant, yet painfully close.
As you stepped through the front door, the scent of home-cooked food greeted you. Your mother’s warm embrace followed.
“Welcome home, Y/N dear,” she whispered. “We’ve missed you.”
Your father gave you a small smile from behind his newspaper, his quiet presence grounding you. For the first time in months, you felt warm and safe.
As you walked up the stairs and into your bedroom, memories of your childhood flooded back. You recalled the countless hours spent playing games with Wonwoo in this very room, inventing imaginary worlds where the rules didn't matter. It was the time spent together that truly counted, and the thought brought a smile to your face.
But the peace was short-lived.
You were unpacking your bags when you heard the door open downstairs. Was someone visiting? You heard a flurry of muffled greetings and shuffling before your mom yelled, “Y/N, come down! Dinner’s ready—and we have guests!” Guests? You thought this dinner was just for family. Did Mom invite relatives over without telling you again?
Then came the words that sent your heart plummeting.
“Hurry! Don’t keep Wonwoo waiting!”
You froze.
You must have misheard her. Wonwoo? Here?
But when you reached the dining room, there he was.
Jeon Wonwoo, standing in your family’s living room, his parents chatting animatedly with yours. He looked up, eyes meeting yours for the first time in months. Time seemed to freeze.
Your mother beamed. “Come greet Auntie and Uncle Jeon!”
You forced a smile, heart hammering in your chest. You greeted his parents politely, exchanging small talk that felt excruciatingly forced, before taking your seats at the (very cramped) dinner table. Your leg brushed against Wonwoo’s under the table and with each accidental touch, sending your nerves into overdrive.
“So, Y/N! How have you been?” his mother asked, her warm eyes filled with concern.
You mustered another smile. “I’ve been good, Auntie. Busy with work.”
“They’re overworking you, aren’t they? You’ve gotten so thin!”
“Mom—” Wonwoo interrupted, his voice sharp but laced with concern.
“It’s okay,” you reassured her. “Comes with the job, I guess.”
She sighed, shaking her head. “Have you seen Wonwoo recently? He always talks about how much he misses you.”
Your breath hitched. You glanced at Wonwoo. His face turned beet red.
“Mom!” he hissed, clearly embarrassed.
If only she knew the truth.
“Alright, alright. Let them eat. They haven’t been back in such a long time, let them rest. I’m sure they’re tired.” You knew you could always count on Uncle Jeon to save awkward situations.
That night, as you settled into your childhood bedroom, your phone buzzed.
I glanced at the clock. 1:00 AM.
Who would be texting me at this hour?
my phone, and my breath caught when I saw the name on the screen.
Wonwoo.
[nu]: Hey, I’m sorry about today. What my mom said. I haven’t told her about us, and I take it you haven’t told your mom either?
I stared at his name, a ghost from a past I thought I had buried. After the breakup, I never changed his contact name—some part of me couldn’t. Did he change mine?
Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard before typing:
[you]: Yeah… the topic never really came up. what are you doing up so late?
[nu]: Can’t sleep. You?
[you]: Can’t sleep either.
A pause. Then—
[nu]: i know this might seem out of the blue, but… do you remember our secret place? the one on the hill?
Your heart clenched. Of course, you remembered.
[you]: Yeah. What about it?
His reply came almost instantly.
[nu]: Would you like to join me?
What?
Then, as if my body had a mind of its own, you grabbed your coat and slipped outside. You found yourself walking the familiar path to your secret hideout. The place where we could be ourselves. Where we whispered our dreams, shared our fears, and believed that nothing else mattered.
The night air was cool against your skin as you made your way up the hill, the path one you had walked countless times before.
The ten-minute walk was quiet, the night breeze threading through your hair, the stillness wrapping around you like a long-lost friend. You wished you could do this in Seoul, just wander aimlessly, but that was impossible now. Being a celebrity meant always being watched.
Climbing up the little hill, the outline of Wonwoo’s back came into view. Wonwoo. There was a time when his name slipped from my lips so easily, but now, you couldn't even bring myself to say it aloud. Without a word, you sat beside him, letting your gaze drift to the sky. The stars were endless tonight, each one burning bright, unbothered by time or distance.
"Pretty, isn't it?" Wonwoo’s deep voice broke the silence.
"Yeah," you murmured, eyes never leaving the view. "The same as it’s always been."
Silence settled between the two of you again, but with Wonwoo, it never felt awkward. There was still that unspoken understanding, the quiet comfort of familiarity.
Then, his voice came softer this time. "Can I tell you something, Y/N?"
You nodded.
"I miss you. I’ve missed you since the moment I walked out of your apartment that day." He exhaled, as if finally letting go of something heavy. "I know this is out of the blue, but leaving your parents' place today… it didn’t feel right. Not when we weren’t talking."
You understood what he meant. His family had always been a welcomed visitor, and yet, for the first time, there was this unfamiliar distance between you—a gap that neither of you had tried to close.
I swallowed, gathering the courage that had evaded me for months. This is it.
"I miss you too, Nu."
The words felt heavy, yet freeing. You met his gaze, voice soft yet steady. "It hasn’t been easy without you," You admitted. "These past few months, I thought I was doing the right thing—taking time to reflect, to grow, to be better. But the truth is… you were helping me do that all along. Letting you go was supposed to make me stronger, but instead, I lost a part of myself. My confidence isn’t what it was. I’m not as outgoing anymore. I tried to convince myself it was for the best, but now… I’m not so sure.”
Wonwoo was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, his voice came, steady and familiar. "I heard the songs you wrote." His lips curled slightly at the corners. "They were amazing, Y/N. You’re doing well. You can’t let anyone—including yourself—say you’re not."
Something warmed within you at his words. He always knew exactly what to say to make you feel better.
You turned to face him fully, heart pounding. "Nu, I know I said I make bad decisions, but my life hasn’t been the same without you. And if I don’t ask this now, I might regret it for the rest of my life."
A deep breath.
"Wonwoo, would you give me a second chance?"
The world seemed to still as he looked away, his gaze lifting toward the sky before settling back on me. Every second of silence chipped away at your confidence. Was I too late?
Then, he let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You always overthink things, Y/N."
You frowned. "What’s that supposed to—"
Before you could finish, he reached for your hand, his touch warm and familiar. "Of course, I’ll give us another chance." His voice was steady, sure. "I never wanted to lose you in the first place."
Relief crashed over you so fast it nearly knocked the breath from your lungs. You squeezed his hand, a slow smile breaking across my lips.
For the first time in months, everything felt right again.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 MINGYU - BUT YOU'RE STILL A TRAITOR
traitor - olivia rodrigo
that's not how this works - charlie puth
“Y/N! Y/N! How are you feeling about the release of your upcoming album?”
“Y/N! Look here! Look here!”
Reporters swarmed the path to your car as you stepped out of your company’s building. Your new album was set to be released tomorrow, and you were finishing up the last of the paperwork. Flashes from multiple cameras and phones made it difficult to walk back to your car. Your bodyguards were doing their best, but the crowd was out of control.
“Y/N! How’s your relationship with Seventeen’s Mingyu?”
Right…Mingyu. The two of you had gone public a year ago after dating for a few months. The status of your relationship had always been private, so when you mutually agreed to break up - 3 weeks, 4 days, and 7 hours ago to be exact, but who’s counting? - you decided not to tell the fans. The emotions were overwhelming, and you didn’t think it was a good idea to inform the fans. The things they might say, the things they might do—you didn’t think you could handle it.
Mingyu and you were still on good terms, or so you thought. You weren't exactly sure. It was still awkward when you saw him at events, and definitely awkward when you texted each other congratulations on each other’s successes. You were trying to stay friends, considering that's how you started. You thought the breakup was better for both of you. Busy with your careers, rarely seeing each other, and working with other people, it was inevitable that the light between you would slowly fade. And you thought it was really over when you saw rumors that Mingyu was dating another actress just a week ago.
Seeing that article, you couldn't help but feel like he was playing you. You weren't even dating anymore. He was free to do whatever he wanted. So why did it hurt more than the breakup itself? You knew the texts he sent didn't mean much, but it was relieving to see that he still wanted to talk after the breakup. Emotions filled you up, and you found yourself cooped up inside the studio, writing down all your feelings. Five days later, you added two new songs to your album, dedicated to whatshisname. You knew that the moment your album was released, everyone would be talking about those songs. But writing them was the only thing that helped you get through the tough days.
“Miss Y/N? This way, please,” your bodyguard said, pulling you from your thoughts. You followed, ignoring the paparazzi still shouting for photos and answers.
“Sorry about that, Y/N. I don’t know how they found out you were at the studio today,” your manager apologized. Paparazzi rarely showed up at the company for you. It wasn't that you weren’t famous, but they usually left you alone, which you were extremely grateful for.
“So, how are you feeling about tomorrow’s release?” your manager asked. He knew what you were going through and had supported you. He even helped you express your feelings in your new songs.
“Feeling nervous for sure. Will they like it?”
“Of course they will. Everyone you showed this album to loved it. What’s not to like? Even 'He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named' will be impressed. It's what he deserves.”
You just nodded, hoping that was true. Despite everything you said about him, deep down you knew it wasn't really true, and you missed him. You missed him so much. Even after writing (and exaggerating) about what happened between you two, you'd still run back to him if he just called your name.
“It took you two weeks
To go off and date her
Guess you didn't cheat
But you're still a traitor”
It was a few hours before the release of your album, and you were listening to the tracks again. The lyrics might have been an exaggeration of what actually happened, but they captured how you felt at the time. This song was the crowd favorite when you shared the album.
“Y/N, are you ready? Cameras are going to roll soon,” your manager asked. You were scheduled for an interview and a reaction video for the MV premiere.
“AND…ROLLING!” the director called as he clapped the slate. “Welcome… the rising soloist Y/N!” the interviewer introduced you.
You walked into the room, shook her hand, and took your seat.
“Wow, it's been a while since I've seen you! How have you been, Y/N?” the interviewer asked.
“I've been great, thank you! Extremely busy, but glad to be back!” you replied.
“Well, let's cut to the chase. Your new album is releasing in, what, 40 minutes? How are you feeling?”
“Super nervous,” you chuckled. “I hope my fans love this album as much as I do. It's quite different from what I usually put out, so hopefully it's to everyone’s liking! But no matter what happens, I'm really proud of this album and will continue to do my best,” you said, smiling into the camera.
“I've had the privilege of a sneak peek, and I have to say, your fans are definitely going to love it. Now, a little birdy told us you included a couple of love songs in the album as well?” the interviewer asked, catching you off guard.
“Hmm, who told you?” you laughed. “Yes, I did. Hopefully, it reaches the right audience, but it is dedicated to someone out there,” you replied. It was your first time admitting out loud that the songs were dedicated to a specific someone, and it felt a little unreal.
After finishing up the interview, there was still some time before the MV reaction. You decided to post a few pictures from the interview on Twitter. Gotta always give the fans what they want, right?
The next time you checked your phone was after the MV premiere, which was a huge success. There were millions of views within the first hour! You were surprised to see the traction your post got too. It seemed like people were enjoying the album so far, already speculating and discussing the songs.
You were scrolling through the comments when a notification caught your eye. The handle seemed familiar. Kimtato? You clicked on the profile and saw they had posted and reposted content of your songs as well as pictures from your interview. Then it clicked. This was Mingyu’s fake Twitter account he used back when you were still dating. You thought he had changed accounts, but apparently not. You had forgotten about it since he wasn’t active on Twitter anyway. But now, he seemed pretty active on this account. Did he mean to post this? Or did he forget you're still following this account? A million thoughts flooded your mind as you stared blankly at your phone. He must have forgotten you're following this account because why else would he suddenly post this?
A ding from your phone indicated a notification. It was from Mingyu.
Days later, at the MAMAs, the venue buzzed with excitement and anticipation. As you prepared backstage, you couldn't shake the thought of seeing Mingyu. You’d been purposefully avoiding him and the band the entire time you were there. The memories, the texts, everything rushed back. You were afraid it would be weird finally seeing him in person after so long. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself to stay focused on your performance.
After a thrilling performance of your new title track, you received an unexpected request from the event organiser: a photoshoot with various artists, including Mingyu. Your heart raced, but you agreed, knowing it was part of the job.
As you walked toward the photoshoot area, you spotted him looking as handsome as ever in a Dior suit that glittered under the lights. He looked just as surprised to see you. You both exchanged awkward smiles before the photographer directed you into position.
"Alright, everyone! Smile!" the photographer called out.
After a few group shots, the photographer suggested pairing up artists for some photos. You and Mingyu were inevitably paired together. As you stood beside him, the tension was palpable. The photographer snapped away while you and Mingyu maintained polite smiles.
Once the session ended, you found yourselves standing alone in a quiet corner. Mingyu broke the silence first.
"I didn't expect this," he admitted with a nervous chuckle.
"Neither did I," you replied, your shoes suddenly very interesting to look at.
"I wanted to talk to you, though. About everything," he continued.
You nodded, feeling the weight of unspoken words. "It was a lot to process for both of us.”
"I'm sorry," Mingyu apologized. "The actress from the rumors... she's my cousin. It was all just a misunderstanding.”
A sense of relief washed over you. "I guess I jumped to conclusions," you chuckled.
"We both did," he admitted. "I guess we assumed that we didn’t want this relationship anymore. But I want you to know, I never stopped caring about you. I'm sorry I didn't try hard enough to fight for our relationship. I'll definitely do better this time.”
You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity. "I missed you, Gyu. These past few weeks, I wondered if our actions were right. With you, everything fell into place. I'm sorry too, for not fighting for what we had. We'll do better. We're in this together.”
"I missed you too," he confessed. "I missed us talking without awkwardness. Missed your surprise visits. I care about you. So much. So, if you’d like to continue our relationship, I’d gladly take your hand and ride this journey with you.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you smiled. "I'd like that. But let's take it slow this time. No rushing, no secrets.”
Mingyu nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Agreed. One step at a time.” He said, pulling you into a warm hug.
Silence enveloped you both, when he suddenly started laughing. You furrowed your brows and asked, "What's wrong?"
“Nothing much, just that I’m a traitor, huh?” he laughed.
“I didn’t know what to think! And in any case, people love the song so its a win-win!” you defended.
He pulled you into a bear hug once more. “I promise it won’t happen again,” he said, smiling into your hair.
You couldn't help but laugh with him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. In that moment, you knew that together, you could face whatever came your way, one step at a time.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 VERNON - ARE YOU THINKIN' 'BOUT ME?
thinkin' 'bout me - morgan wallen
my heart i surrender - i prevail
You first met Vernon at a café almost 2 years ago. Your mutual friend had been raving about a new place that had just opened, swearing up and down that they served the best matcha latte in town. And as much as you loved your matcha lattes, you weren’t exactly eager to leave the comfort of your bed, especially on your rare day off. You declined at least a dozen times, but your friend was relentless, and eventually, you caved, dragging yourself out the door with minimal enthusiasm.
That was how you found yourself standing in line, scanning the menu even though you already knew what you wanted. Your friend had mentioned that someone else would be joining, but they didn’t say who. So, when they casually dropped Vernon’s name, your heart skipped a beat. That Vernon? The one whose face was plastered across billboards, the one whose music had been a quiet source of inspiration for you?
Going into full panic mode, you were whisper-screaming at your friend for not telling you sooner — if you’d known, you would’ve at least thrown on some concealer, maybe a bit of lip gloss, anything to avoid looking like a sleep-deprived zombie. “You’ll be fine,” your friend had reassured you when they saw the hesitation written all over your face. “He’s super chill. He likes meeting new people.”
Safe to say, you weren’t convinced. What if you made a terrible first impression? What if you had nothing to say? The thoughts ran rampant in your mind as you ordered your drink, the hum of café chatter filling the space around you.
Then, the door chimed.
Vernon walked in like he wasn’t him, like he didn’t command attention just by breathing the same air as everyone else. He wore just a loose hoodie and a mask covering most of his face, and even then you recognized him immediately. He had a presence that was hard to miss — effortlessly cool, but not in a way that felt intimidating. It somehow made you feel at ease.
Your friend waved him over, completely unaffected that he is THE Vernon, while your brain short-circuited.
“Hey,” he said, voice low and effortless as he reached your table, eyes flicking to yours for just a second too long. “Sorry I’m late.”
“No worries,” your friend said easily. “This is the one I told you about, Y/N”
What you hadn’t expected was how natural the conversation felt once the introductions were out of the way. Vernon was easy to talk to, effortlessly bridging the gap between new acquaintances and something more. You discovered shared interests, bonding over the same bands and binge-worthy shows. He wasn’t just the artist you admired from afar — he was someone you genuinely clicked with.
And for the first time that day, you were glad your friend had dragged you out of bed.
It had been almost a year since that first unexpected meeting with Vernon. What started as a casual exchange of Instagrams that day quickly turned into late-night conversations and inside jokes. Within days, you'd swapped numbers.
The more you got to know him — not just the artist, but the person behind the lyrics and the public image — the more your feelings grew. He was thoughtful in ways that surprised you, gentle in the quietest moments, and genuinely interested in your world, no matter how different it seemed from his. One night, beneath the glow of a city both of you called home, you finally admitted what had been building between you.
Dating Vernon felt surreal at first, like you'd stepped into a parallel version of your life where anything was possible. But even in the middle of that magic, reality pressed in. His schedule was demanding — endless rehearsals, flights, press. And yours, though quieter, was no less intense. You were finally on tour yourself, a dream you’d worked toward for years. The venues were smaller than his, the crowds more intimate, but it mattered just as much to you. You were giving it everything.
At first, you made it work. You called when you could. Visited when time allowed. Sent voice notes in place of “good morning” texts and photos from hotel windows instead of dates. But slowly, inevitably, time and distance began to take their toll. You saw each other less and less, not because the feelings faded, but because life simply wouldn’t slow down.
Eventually, with heavy hearts and more understanding than anger, you both agreed to let go. It wasn’t dramatic. There were no raised voices or slammed doors. Just the quiet heartbreak of two people who still cared deeply but couldn’t hold each other the way they wanted to.
And still, even after it ended, there was something about that year that stayed with you.
A few months after your breakup, you were due to release something new for your fans.
“Are you sure you don’t want to add these to the album?” your friend asked, eyeing you over the console. You had a few songs tucked away in the vault — ones you’d written after your relationship ended. At first, you didn’t want them on the album. They felt too raw, too personal. But after listening back, your friend was convinced they belonged.
“Or at least include them on the deluxe version,” they urged. “People need to hear this, Y/N.”
Little did you know what they really meant.
It was finally the day of the release of your album. You spent the morning doing press, interacting with fans, and joining the live countdown in the afternoon. You’d braced yourself for nerves, but instead, you were overwhelmed by the love pouring in. The album was doing better than you expected — charting high, trending everywhere. And just when things had started to settle, you decided to drop the deluxe edition at midnight quietly, without announcement.
You thought it would be a small surprise, something intimate for your core fans. But within hours, word had spread like wildfire. Social media exploded with reactions to the added tracks — the ones you almost kept hidden. And to your surprise, those songs were the ones people clung to the most.
Somehow, the parts you’d feared were too vulnerable had become the ones that resonated the loudest.
You almost didn’t release the songs. The excuse you gave yourself was that you didn’t want people knowing your true emotions, that some feelings were better kept private. But deep down, you knew the real reason.
You were afraid of his reaction. Or worse, his lack of one.
It had been a few days since your album dropped, and the buzz still hadn’t died down. The numbers were climbing, the messages were pouring in, but none from the person you were secretly waiting for.
You found yourself checking your phone constantly. Sometimes without even realizing it. There were moments you caught yourself mid-reach, forcing your hand back down before you could check the screen for the umpteenth time. After all, you were broken up. There was no need for him to text you about your feelings. It was stupid —you were broken up. There was no reason for him to text you about your feelings. A small part of you still hoped for at least a “congratulations.” Even some of the other members had reached out.
“Maybe he hasn’t had the chance to listen yet.” ”Maybe he’s still thinking of what to say.”
But his silence said otherwise.
And somehow, that hurt more than the breakup itself. Because now, the truth was unavoidable — there wasn’t going to be a second chance. Not this time.
Letting that reality sink in, you found yourself heading to the café — the same one where you first met him. Maybe you just wanted to feel close to that moment again, to revisit the beginning before finally letting it all go. If he could move on, then maybe you could, too.
The nostalgia hit you the moment you stepped through the doors. The soft hum of chatter, the warm lighting, the familiar decorations that hadn’t changed much since that day — it all came rushing back.
You walked up to the counter, eyes scanning the menu even though you already knew what you were going to order. The café’s signature drink. The one you had the first time. The one he had, too.
With the cup in hand, you chose a quiet table by the window and sat down, letting the memories settle around you like dust in the sunlight.
Cup in hand, you chose a quiet table by the window and sat down, letting the memories settle around you like dust in the sunlight.
You wrapped your hands around the cup, the scent of matcha bringing back a version of yourself that felt impossibly far away. For a moment, you just let yourself sit in the memory and the silence.
You were so lost in thought, you almost didn’t hear the door chime in front you.
But something made you glance up.
And there he was.
Vernon.
He stepped inside like it was any other day, like he hadn’t unknowingly haunted your songs, your thoughts, your quietest nights. He looked almost exactly the same — hoodie pulled over his head, mask covering most of his face, hands in his pockets and the same unreadable expression he wore when he was trying not to let his thoughts show too much.
Your heart froze. And so did you.
He hadn’t seen you yet. His eyes were scanning the menu casually, just like he did back then, completely unaware that the past was sitting a few feet away, watching him like a ghost.
You debated it — whether to look away or whether to gather your things and slip out quietly before this turned into something harder. But before you could make a move, his gaze lifted.
And your eyes met.
For a second, neither of you moved. Just stared at each other and blinked.
A flicker of something passed across his face. Surprise? Hesitation? Maybe even recognition of the same ache you’d been carrying.
And slowly, with careful steps, he made his way over to your table.
“Hey.” His voice was low, familiar, almost too warm. You blinked, taking him in.
“Hey,” you echoed, lifting a small, awkward wave. You really hadn’t expected to run into him today.
Silence settled between you. You stared down at your cup; he stood there, unmoving.
Eventually, he pulled out the chair and sat, eyes never leaving you.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said carefully.
You looked up, your eyes meeting his again. “Me neither.”
Another pause.
“You come here often?” you asked, grasping for something — anything — to ease the weight in the air.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Brings back memories.”
You glanced around. It did. More than you wanted to admit.
“Hey, congrats on the album. I’ve been wanting to say that. But when you released the deluxe version… I thought I should take some time to figure out what I wanted to say.”
You didn’t know how to respond, so you just nodded, fingers tightening around your cup.
He exhaled softly, eyes dropping to the table before lifting back to you. “What you said in those songs… did you mean them?”
Your breath caught. You stared at him, stunned he’d ask something so direct.
“Of course,” you said quietly. “I thought it was obvious.”
He swallowed, jaw tensing for a moment. “Just wanted to make sure,” he murmured. “Because I feel the same way.”
Your eyes snapped up to his.
“What?”
“I thought breaking up was the only way,” he began, voice low, steady but trembling at the edges. “We were busy, we barely saw each other, and every day felt harder than the last. I thought ending things would take the pressure off both of us.” He shook his head. “But I was wrong. Not having you there… that was worse than any of it.”
You felt your chest tighten.
“Not being able to talk to you, to tell you how my day went, not seeing you smile.” He let out a sigh. “It hurt more than seeing you through a screen. Every poster, every performance — it just reminded me that I couldn’t reach out to you. What I thought was best for us just turned into a burden I carried every day.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He continued.
“I hoped that after the breakup, we’d both feel freer. We’d focus on our careers, and… if fate wanted, maybe our paths would cross again.” His eyes softened. “But those days… They were the hardest. You were the person who helped me through everything. The exhaustion, the late practices, the doubts. And I’m sorry it took me so long to realise that.”
A small sigh escaped you. “It was hard for me too,” you said. “Knowing I shouldn’t call or text you anymore. But I kept thinking… maybe it was wrong to give up without trying harder.” Your throat tightened. “I missed talking to you. Late-night conversations, lying under the stars when it felt like the world didn’t exist. Just us.”
Your eyes blurred, tears engulfing your vision.
He reached across the table and gently took your hand, his touch warm and familiar, grounding you.
“I miss you,” he said softly. “So much.” He inhaled deeply, as if steadying himself. “I never thought I’d care for someone this much. And I can’t imagine my life without you in it — even if it meant just being friends.” His thumb brushed your knuckles. “But… I don’t want ‘just friends.’”
His gaze met yours, earnest and full of hope.
“Are you willing to give me another chance to let me be a better boyfriend this time?”
You squeezed his hand back.
“I can’t imagine my life without you either. I want to make things work this time. No pulling back.”
The two of you smiled at each other, knowing that whatever whatever challenges cam next, you wouldn’t run from them this time. You’d face them together, no matter how tough, no matter how exhausting.
For the first time in months, the future didn’t feel frightening.
Summary: You and Vernon are trapped in a group of people who are controlled by soldiers from the government. You both succeed to escape with other boys but they are after you. You have to prove yourselves to survive by going through obstacles like challenges, games and others. You only have 3 chances. After dying 3 times, you'll officially die.
Masterlist
A/N: This was inspired by a dream. Sorry if it's not clear or too weird. I have strange dreams
Seokmin knocked on the door of 'Bumzu''s house for the fifth time and there was still no response.
"I think we should go somwhere else" you said getting impatient.
"No wait, he's coming" Mingyu said.
A man opened the door and smiled widely when he saw who was visiting him. He hugged each member until he you came in front of him.
"I see you got a new member" he stated.
"It's temporary for now, we'll see when we get out of this territory" Seungcheol said.
He nodded and welcomed you. As you entered the house, an incredible smell was brought to your nostrils. It's been a while since you were able to eat a proper dish and you were mire than happy to be there. Bumzu invited you to sit down and wait until he gets them food. As soon as the dinner arrived, you started to fill your mouth with it.
"So, how did you meet?" Bumzu asked the boys.
"It's actually Hansol who met her first and then introduced her" Wonwoo wiggled his eyebrows towards Hansol.
"Oh, so one of the maknaes got hinself a girlfriend?" Bumzu said moving his eyes to look at Vernon.
"No, we came up with a plan to escape and then she met the others" he answered while blushing.
As the dinner continued, Hoshi explained what was happening now and about how you were organizing a plan to defend yourselves.
"And now we got another member with the Hip Hop team" he affirmed.
"Me?" you asked clueless.
"I want to evaluate your skills closely and Vernon is in the team as well so you can feel more comfortable" S.Coups explained.
"Oh, thank you, S.Coups" you bowed a little.
After eating, you had to go back at the theater. Before leaving, Bumzu told you to be careful and gave you a map of the area so you can memorize it to exit easily. You thanked him and went back. It was almost midnight and you were exhausted. You agreed to sleep in the lodges as it was the most comfy place to sleep better. Because it was a pretty tight place, you separated in units for each lodge. Hansol offered you his chest as a pillow to which you gladly accept.
"Thank you. For the training" you whispered not wanting to wake up the others.
"No problem. Tomorrow, we'll work harder on your fighting skills" he informed and you nodded closing your eyes.
Mingyu woke up and glanced at the both of you. He got up to go next to Vernon.
"You like her?" he whispered.
Vernon widened his eyes thinking you could still hear him.
"Shhh" he pointed out to his hyung.
"So you do" Mingyu chuckled.
"I know her for only two weeks or so"
"And? I mean, we never know"
Vernon managed to make Mingyu go back to sleep after some time. He then proceed to look at your features. You looked peaceful and it was enough for him to swoon over you. He pecked your forehead before getting to sleep.
~ The Next Day ~
You groaned as you got back onto the floor, your nose bleeding.
"Come on, Y/N! You know I hate fighting with you" Hansol said.
"Doesn't seem like it" you coughed as he helped you getting back onto your feet.
"You'll get better, now get positioned" he said and you adjusted your posture.
"Yah! What are you two doing?" you turned around to see DK.
"Practice" you answered.
"In this state? Absolutely not!" he cried.
He soon approached you to put his hand on your forehead and he closed his eyes. Seconds later, you were feeling better.
"Thank you" you said to him and he replied with a smile.
"Don't get too hard on her" he warned Hansol who just nodded before leaving.
"Ready?" Vernon asked.
You nodded. While fighting, you surprisingly managed to make Vernon trip over and fell. What you didn't plan was to trip over his leg and fell on top on him. You stared at each other shook, but you didn't want to look away. After some time, you found Hansol's face approaching yours and to finally press his lips onto yours. It was quick, yet unbelievable. You really couldn't believe you just kissed someone after knowing him for a couple of weeks. Hansol's eyes widened as he realized what he did and he pushed you off of him. He helped you to get up and apologized.
"Did you mean it?" you asked.
"Maybe?" Vernon blushed making you smile.
"I liked it" you confessed making him smile as well.
"Umm.. back to practice?" he said shyly but you agreed.
You both sat down and started to work on your powers. Hansol explained how he belived your powers are related to vibrations as the sounds are vibrations. Your mind as well can emit some which explains how you could recall you thoughts. You worked on projecting the vibrations physically and you finally did it just before S.Coups called all the members.
"What is it, hyung?" Dino asked.
"We went back to the base" he announced.
"And?" Jeonghan encouraged to continue.
"I put it on fire" Hoshi said making the boys react.
"Wait, I asked him to" Seungcheol continued. "It is part of the plan. I knew you wouldn't have liked the idea so we did it secretely. Now, we have to wait until they arrive. I would like the maknaes, Vernon, Y/N, Seungkwan and Dino, to go under the scene. Shua and Minghao, stay outside, you'll make a distraction. Don't hesitate to use your powers, The8. Jeonghan, go hide the weapons in case we need them. Mingyu, Wonwoo, go to the main room until they arrive. Jun and DK, try to make some kind of shield as an extra protection. As for the the leaders, we'll wait on the stage"
You looked at each other worriedly before nodding and going to your assigned places. You went downstairs with the boys and arrived under the stage. You heard the leaders reassuring each other and it reassured you a little too. You suddenly felt a hand slid in yours. You looked to your left to see Hansol.
"You know I was serious earlier, right?" he asked.
"I know"
He took the opportunity to peck your lips and you smiled.
"Good luck" he said.
"Care to explain?" Seungkwan asked covering Chan's eyes who whined about not being a baby anymore.
𖠋 do remember to read the warnings before continuing to read the fanfics!!
🐢 choi hansol 🐢
one-shots/time stamps
mixtape - by @wooahaes {➳, ☁}
on the right track - by @wooahaes {➳, ☁}
Jealousy, Jealousy - by @slytherinshua {➳, ☁}
spoiler: i kinda like u - by @wheeboo {➳, ☁}
touch starved - by @wooahaes {➳, ☁}
cats, coffee and cupid - by @wheeboo {➳, ☁}
right next to the heart - by @fairyhaos {➳, ☁}
love & cookie dough - by @wooahaes {➳, ☁}
𖠋 to be regularly updated!
do check out part 1 and 2 of my svt fics -> here !
