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vintage-cigarette-posters
Vintage Cigarettes Posters
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Periodista, académico y comentarista de TV chileno.
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Hello~!
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Super Adam World
prairiedeath
LIVING DEAD GIRL
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jeonghan passes chan a small pink box wrapped with a white bow. even without him saying its from you, chan knows: he knows your handwriting anywhere.
"they've been bragging all day that you'll love their present the most," seungkwan rolls his eyes. "so go ahead and prove them wrong."
chan eyes you as you stand next to where vernon's sitting, hiding a smile behind a plastic cup. the ice crunches together as you watch him, a tender look in your eyes. he pulls one end of the bow, slowly unraveling it from around the box. the lid comes off easily enough, and he has to parse through tissue paper. the thing on top is a gift card to a store he loves.
"aw... honey," he looks at you. "that's nice."
seungkwan, on the other hand, has turned to you. "you said it'd be the best!"
you just shrug. chan keeps digging while seungkwan gloats about his present being the best for sure now... but chan finds something wrapped in tissue paper at the bottom of the small box. someone--mingyu, he thinks, but he's too preoccupied to care--tells seungkwan he should think again...
and rolled up securely in tissue paper is a key with a folded up piece of paper underneath it: move in with me? he looks up, and you're smiling hard enough that you definitely can't hide it with a long sip of your drink. he nods once and pockets it. the two of you will talk about it more later.
(and in the background, he hears seungcheol sigh heavily, all but throwing his own present at chan to open next. no one's going to top "losing your three roommates for one far cooler (and hotter) one," as you later put it.)
#j reads!#dino rec!#im great and fine thanks for asking :D not screaming into my fist at all#this was so cute im actually unwell. thank you for this ill be thinking about it forever 🥲
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"wait!"
when you see the law intern booking it towards you, you wave your father to go on back to the car. if it was for him, the guy would have called out his name--but his sights are set on you. he must have booked it to catch you before you left choi, yoon & hong. but he slows down, doubling over to catch his breath (did he take the stairs...?) before holding up your wallet.
"oh!" you take it back. it must have fallen out of your pocket. "thank you, mister..."
"boo," he straightens up. "seungkwan." and his face is slightly red. "and... um... my associate wanted me to give you this." he holds out a piece of paper with a phone number hastily scrawled across it.
you furrow your brow. "they have my father's number--"
"no. no, it's... it's for you."
"if there's complications--"
"i'm trying to ask you out!" he says, and then realizes how loud he was. "sorry. i... i'm not involved with anything you're involved in, and i think you're cute, and--"
oh. you give seungkwan a once over, and he's pretty damn cute when he's flustered. you pocket his number. "i'm free saturday," you say. "i'll call you, alright?"
his eyes light up with joy, and you can see the weight lifted off his shoulders. "yes! i'd--i'd like that." he starts taking steps back, "i've gotta... i have work... i--"
"i'll call you!" you call out again, and he's beaming when he nearly walks into the door.
(and he walks back into a firm ready to tease him, because mingyu and wonwoo saw it all from the windows. at least seungkwan wins: he gets to see you again.)
#j reads!#seungkwan rec!#GOODBYE why was this sooooo boo coded i feel unwell.#love love love love love 🥺#when will he almost walk into a door BECAUSE OF ME.#(i might maybe possibly have some feelings for him perhaps a little maybe. it’s possible.)
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PUPPY LOVE - j.ww
it’s not your fault that everyone gets the wrong idea about you, your roommate and his cute dog. (except… it might be, a little.)
pairing : jeon wonwoo x gn!reader.
content : fluff. roommates to lovers. one-shot smau.
notes : those photos of seollie hit me hard. i’m not sorry.
thank u for checking this out!! i hope you enjoyed it — likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated.
dividers by cafekitsune.
#srb!#okay WHAT thank u guys so much for 300 on this???😭😭😭#glad to see my brain worms r not for nothing :D#LOVE U GUYS BYE
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PUPPY LOVE - j.ww
it’s not your fault that everyone gets the wrong idea about you, your roommate and his cute dog. (except… it might be, a little.)
pairing : jeon wonwoo x gn!reader.
content : fluff. roommates to lovers. one-shot smau.
notes : those photos of seollie hit me hard. i’m not sorry.
thank u for checking this out!! i hope you enjoyed it — likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated.
dividers by cafekitsune.
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PUPPY LOVE - j.ww
it’s not your fault that everyone gets the wrong idea about you, your roommate and his cute dog. (except… it might be, a little.)
pairing : jeon wonwoo x gn!reader.
content : fluff. roommates to lovers. one-shot smau.
notes : those photos of seollie hit me hard. i’m not sorry.
thank u for checking this out!! i hope you enjoyed it — likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated.
dividers by cafekitsune.
#wonwoo smau#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#wonwoo fake texts#jeon wonwoo smau#jeon wonwoo fluff#svt smau#seventeen smau#kpop smau#svt fluff#*my smau#*my fic#literally don’t even look at me rn#im going through something 😭
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FIRESIDE — l.jh
four months after you broke up, you send a questionable series of texts to your ex boyfriend at far too late of an hour for it to be considered 'a good idea'. but well... the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day, right?
pairing : lee jihoon x gn reader.
genre : angst, slight fluff / exes to a second chance.
content tags : swearing. humour as a coping mechanism. inspired by arctic monkeys 'fireside' because emotionally, i never left 2014. (the divider implies a time skip of like an hour.)
there's all these secrets that i can't keep, like in my heart there's that hotel suite
and you lived there so long, it's kinda strange, now you're gone
thank you for checking this out! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated.<3
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Can you do bf!texts for Vernon??
i love vernon so much hes literally my bestie (REAL)
anywaayyss here you go:)
Vernon Chwe || boyfriend texts with vernon!
genre: one!shot texts, smau, fluff, idol!bf x non!idol gf
warnings: fem pronouns, cursing, angst (?), nsfw mentions (last slide)
#j reads!#vernon smau!#ah. this. was not good for me sctually.#my affection aggression is so strong rn i need to go break something and/or cry. not sure yet#team ‘vernon calls his s/o bro/dude’ you guys keep doing what ur doing and live our truth. i am with you. i agree wholeheartedly#THIS WAS SO CUTE😭#I remain down horrendous for him. what else is new 😭😭😭😭
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WAYS HHU HELP YOU SLEEP ;
hhu x gn!reader. no warnings. pure fluff. barely proof read. est 300 words.
SEUNGCHEOL holds you in his strong arms, his whole front pressed into your back. the pressure of him wrapped around you feels more like home than anywhere you’ve ever lived. he could doze off at the snap of your fingers, but tries so hard to fight it until you get there too, and you never go to bed without him murmuring how much he loves you into the crook of your neck.
WONWOO tells you stories. sometimes he makes entire elaborate tales up for you. sometimes he just talks about his day. the low rumble of his voice across the space between you is the knight fighting the dragon breathing fire in your brain. your eyes always start to feel heavy before he can reach the end, his blinding, fond smile always the last thing you see.
MINGYU changes the bedding at silly o’clock in the morning and sprays lavender mist on your clean pillow. he gets you fresh pyjamas, fixes your favourite (uncaffeinated) hot drink. he knows you shouldn’t try to force sleep, so he sits awake with you at the breakfast bar until you start yawning. then, he insists on carrying you back to bed: he says that the walk might raise your heart rate and then you’ll ’lose the tired’. and well, you can never argue with those puppy-dog eyes.
VERNON sings to you. he can’t sleep if there’s background noise in the room, though he’s more than happy to provide it for you if it helps. he knows a few lullabies, but sometimes he can’t get through them without laughing; thankfully, there are a few songs he knows work like magic, and his soft, sweet voice quickly makes you feel like you’re floating. he keeps going for a few minutes after you’ve drifted off just in case you’re still in limbo; he settles down only when your breaths start to jump with the snores he’s grown to love.
thank you for checking this out! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated.<3
#srb!#ahhhh thank u guys for 400???? what on earth😭#i did Not expect this to pull any kind of numbers. it was the most throwaway piece of brain tumbleweed ever?😭#im glad u liked it though!!! ur all too good to me :(🩵
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WAYS HHU HELP YOU SLEEP ;
hhu x gn!reader. no warnings. pure fluff. barely proof read. est 300 words.
SEUNGCHEOL holds you in his strong arms, his whole front pressed into your back. the pressure of him wrapped around you feels more like home than anywhere you’ve ever lived. he could doze off at the snap of your fingers, but tries so hard to fight it until you get there too, and you never go to bed without him murmuring how much he loves you into the crook of your neck.
WONWOO tells you stories. sometimes he makes entire elaborate tales up for you. sometimes he just talks about his day. the low rumble of his voice across the space between you is the knight fighting the dragon breathing fire in your brain. your eyes always start to feel heavy before he can reach the end, his blinding, fond smile always the last thing you see.
MINGYU changes the bedding at silly o’clock in the morning and sprays lavender mist on your clean pillow. he gets you fresh pyjamas, fixes your favourite (uncaffeinated) hot drink. he knows you shouldn’t try to force sleep, so he sits awake with you at the breakfast bar until you start yawning. then, he insists on carrying you back to bed: he says that the walk might raise your heart rate and then you’ll ’lose the tired’. and well, you can never argue with those puppy-dog eyes.
VERNON sings to you. he can’t sleep if there’s background noise in the room, though he’s more than happy to provide it for you if it helps. he knows a few lullabies, but sometimes he can’t get through them without laughing; thankfully, there are a few songs he knows work like magic, and his soft, sweet voice quickly makes you feel like you’re floating. he keeps going for a few minutes after you’ve drifted off just in case you’re still in limbo; he settles down only when your breaths start to jump with the snores he’s grown to love.
thank you for checking this out! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated.<3
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WAS sunsetvernon -> NOW doreminclined. <3
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WAYS HHU HELP YOU SLEEP ;
hhu x gn!reader. no warnings. pure fluff. barely proof read. est 300 words.
SEUNGCHEOL holds you in his strong arms, his whole front pressed into your back. the pressure of him wrapped around you feels more like home than anywhere you’ve ever lived. he could doze off at the snap of your fingers, but tries so hard to fight it until you get there too, and you never go to bed without him murmuring how much he loves you into the crook of your neck.
WONWOO tells you stories. sometimes he makes entire elaborate tales up for you. sometimes he just talks about his day. the low rumble of his voice across the space between you is the knight fighting the dragon breathing fire in your brain. your eyes always start to feel heavy before he can reach the end, his blinding, fond smile always the last thing you see.
MINGYU changes the bedding at silly o’clock in the morning and sprays lavender mist on your clean pillow. he gets you fresh pyjamas, fixes your favourite (uncaffeinated) hot drink. he knows you shouldn’t try to force sleep, so he sits awake with you at the breakfast bar until you start yawning. then, he insists on carrying you back to bed: he says that the walk might raise your heart rate and then you’ll ’lose the tired’. and well, you can never argue with those puppy-dog eyes.
VERNON sings to you. he can’t sleep if there’s background noise in the room, though he’s more than happy to provide it for you if it helps. he knows a few lullabies, but sometimes he can’t get through them without laughing; thankfully, there are a few songs he knows work like magic, and his soft, sweet voice quickly makes you feel like you’re floating. he keeps going for a few minutes after you’ve drifted off just in case you’re still in limbo; he settles down only when your breaths start to jump with the snores he’s grown to love.
thank you for checking this out! likes, reblogs, comments + feedback are all greatly appreciated.<3
dividers by cafekitsune.
#seventeen reactions#svt reactions#svt scenarios#seventeen scenarios#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#svt hhu reaction#svt hhu scenario#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt hhu x reader#*my fic
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warnings: implied toxic past relationship.
“i don’t think i’m ever going to be capable of loving someone.”
vernon hates when you talk like this. but he says nothing, lying on his back beside you in the park grass. you needed an out, and there he was: ready to run off with you and stargaze until you started to feel a little more human again. and yet here the two of you are, still not quite yourself again. or maybe… this is you, he has to remind himself. you are hurt. a hurt you is still you, and all he can do is try to help you heal. at least you’re seeing a therapist, too: healing is hard, but he supports you through it.
“i mean…” your hands rest on your stomach, and you just… stare beyond the sky. beyond the stars, and whatever lies outside of them. “i just don’t think i’ll ever be normal. not enough for someone to love.”
he swallows hard. i love you, he thinks to himself. i want you to be better. i want you to learn to love yourself again. he wants a lot for you, to be honest. he wants good things: for you to move on, one day, and find someone who loves you wholeheartedly. as much as he wants that person to be him (so much that his heart aches for it), he’s ready to let you go and be your best friend.
“it just feels like… i’m never going to move past it.” your hand finds his for a moment, just to bump the back of it against his. a reminder that he’s still there. “like all my relationships are doomed. what if i start seeing someone and… and i just can’t be what they want?”
his fingers twitch. your hand is right next to his, and he just wants to hold it. to remind you that you’re not alone now. he looks over, and watches you for a moment. “it’s going to take time to heal.”
“it’s been fucking years, vernon. i just want to stop hurting.” you shut your eyes. “i just… i wish i could be normal.”
his hand takes yours. and he squeezes gently, hoping that he can anchor you back down to reality. “plenty of people are hurt,” he says. “it just takes time.”
you open your mouth to refute… and then you stop. you just squeeze his hand hard, as if holding on for dear life. “right,” you say, in a quieter voice. “it just takes time.”
(and all he can do is hope that you mean it.)
#j reads!#vernon rec!#op these pieces always wrench my heart out of my chest. i need you to know how beautiful they are and how they always feel so real#your writing is so evocative and i have a very real pain in my chest#thank you for this. it aches and resonates in the best way🩵
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📁....Seventeen as display of affection ♫₊˚.🎧 ✩｡
genre: fluff
warnings: skinship, lmk if i missed something
w.c: 490
a/n: heart goes brrrr hours...
Seungcheol is a steady hand on your shoulder, offering silent support; a grounding presence in life's chaos. He's a knowing look from across the room; a connection that speaks volumes. He's a guiding touch, a promise of protection and encouragement.
Jeonghan is a feather-light touch on your back, a subtle expression of care and empathy; a delicate assurance that he's attuned to your feelings.
He's a gaze filled with understanding and kindness.
Joshua is a subtle thumb caressing your hand, an unspoken reassurance. It's a reassurance that silently conveys, "I'm here for you," It's a gesture that carries the weight of shared experiences and unspoken camaraderie.
Junhui is a comforting presence at your side, offering support with a soft assurance; a gentle reminder that he's there to navigate challenges together.
Hoshi's a genuine smile that crinkles his eyes, a warmth that reflects his genuine joy in your company; a quiet acknowledgment of the positivity you bring.
Wonwoo is a gaze that lingers, a prolonged and thoughtful study that makes you feel known in a way words can't capture. He's the comfortable silence, a presence that feels like a refuge, allowing you to be fully yourself without explanation.
Woozi is the subtle interlocking of fingers, a touch that conveys a sense of calm and assurance; a grasp that assures you that, in this moment, you are not alone. He's a mosaic of quiet gestures and meaningful touches.
Seokmin is a comforting embrace that unfolds like a gentle symphony. His arms always find their way around you, encircling your waist with a warmth that feels like a familiar melody.
Mingyu is the chin that rests gently on the top of your head. His actions carry a sense of ease as if he's uncovering the mysteries of your essence through a simple, affectionate sniff.
Minghao is bodies leaning into one another, close enough that the space between feels insignificant. Two pairs of hands find a shared refuge in the warmth of a pocket, fingers intertwining effortlessly as if they have always known each other's touch.
Seungkwan is a flurry of warmth and care, his fingers deftly wrapping a scarf around your neck with a meticulous touch. The fabric unfolds like a protective cocoon, shielding you from the chill in the air, each loop a testament to his thoughtfulness.
Vernon is a gentle kiss on your cheek. His kiss is a punctuation mark in the narrative of your connection that says, "I'm here, and you matter." It's a gesture that lingers in the air, leaving a sweet aftertaste of affection, a reminder of the closeness and warmth shared in that fleeting touch.
Chan is a soft touch, a brush of warmth against your skin that transcends the need for explicit communication. He is the subtle hand on your thigh tracing mindless patterns. His touch is gentle, a manifestation of comfort and familiarity.
#j reads!#i am going. to eat. a house#why are these so soft im CRYING#vernon as drive-by cheek kisses means so much to me#seokmin as the best hugs ever means SO much to me#woozi as hand holding???? means SO MUCH?????? to ME?????#these are all so perfect 😭🩵
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[voicemail from vernon, 00:02am] hey, uh, it’s me! just calling to say happy new year, i guess. i know you’re probably asleep, or like, out with friends or something, i don’t know, but — i was just thinking of you. which is weird, right? i started my year thinking of you? maybe it’s not weird. i don’t know. i’m not sure how to say what i want to say — i think — maybe i can show you? next time you’re around. or when i’m around. oh god, did that sound sleazy? it wasn’t supposed to be sleazy. i didn’t mean it… sleazy. just — you know what, just, happy new year. i really hope you have a great one. i hope i get to be there for it all, too. but — yeah. i’ll see you soon.
#j reads!#vernon rec!#hana 🫧#HEY WHEN I ACTUALLY LOSE MY MIND IM MAKING SURE EVERYONE KNOWS IT WAS YOUR FAULT#oh my god im gonna cry#why was this so cute#ITS SO HIM???? ITS *SO* HIM#im about to go eat a house im not kidding. you cant do this to me#drop this like it’s nothing and expect me to be FINE?#NORMAL?#‘I started my year thinking of you’ i have NEVER felt more devastated in my entire fucking life. why would you do this to me#fetch me a brown paper bag rq i need to do some breathing exercises 🫠
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interrogation room
pairing: non-idol!96z & gn!reader
genre: fluff. goofy silly fluff
word count: ~0.8k
warnings: n/a just a silly interrogation of reader's housemates
daisy's notes: yes this IS a prequel to the seokmin fic-
“You may be wondering why I’ve summoned the three of you here today—”
“We all live here.”
Despite Wonwoo’s interruption, you took a deep breath. You pulled up a picture of yourself that you’d taken maybe a week ago, zoomed in specifically to the flannel you had been wearing there. Of course, you wanted to hold this interrogation until Soonyoung was home—but he hadn’t answered your texts, and this was the rare moment that most of you were in the same space and didn’t have anywhere to be.
“I left my flannel on the couch,” you said. “It’s one of my bigger ones so it’s extra warm and comfy… And now it’s missing.”
“Didn’t it get thrown in with the laundry?” Jun looked around. “It’s your favorite.”
“Why was it on the couch to begin with?” Jihoon piped up. “I thought we agreed—”
You shook your head, “That’s not the point right now, we can bitch about leaving clothes out later.” You turned your attention to Wonwoo, who had been quietly observing after that earlier remark. “Wonwoo?”
“I know of the flannel,” he said. “But if I wanted to borrow it, I would have asked.”
You nodded slowly, turning the thought over in your mind. He had a point. Wonwoo borrowed clothing from you before—a hoodie you owned, and a scarf another time. He’d always made a point of asking before he took things from you, and usually made sure you saw him returning them. “Okay. Jihoon—”
“I don’t wear other people’s clothes.”
Jun furrowed his brow. “You wore my hoodie yesterday?”
Jihoon’s face started turning red. “I don’t wear other people’s clothes often. I wouldn’t have worn your flannel anyway.”
You marked Jihoon down in your mind as ‘occasional liar when embarrassed.’ You would focus on him again later, let him cool off first before you really turned the heat up on him (by literally asking again and promising you wouldn’t be that mad if he lost it).
Before you could turn your attention to Jun, your phone went off. When you pulled it out, it was Soonyoung, saying something about how he had his own flannels. Why would he borrow one of yours? Which was fair enough: sometimes you and Soonyoung had similar fashion tastes. He wouldn’t need to borrow your flannel when he probably had one similar enough to it to pull his outfit together.
“Jun.” You looked up. “Did you take it?”
“It’s your favorite one,” he repeated. “I wouldn’t take it without you knowing.”
Wonwoo, despite finding a little amusement in how serious you were taking all of this, tapped your arm. “Are you sure it isn’t buried in your closet? I’ve seen it. We could lose Jihoon in there—”
“It’s not that bad!” You pouted. “But yes, it’s not in there, because I organized the damn thing while looking for it.”
“Why do you need it so badly?” Jun spoke up. “I’m sure we’ll find it, but you’re acting really serious about this.”
For a moment, you debated not telling them. Yet you let out a sigh. “It’s my lucky flannel… and I’ve got a date on Saturday, and I really want it to go well because he’s really sweet, and—”
Jun waved a hand to stop you before you. “We’ll help you find it.”
“Is it Seokmin?” Jihoon asked after a moment, and when you nodded, he, too, nodded to himself. “I see.”
Despite the way your heart warmed at having your housemates care for you, you pouted. “Okay, so one of you had to have accidentally grabbed it. So that means—”
The door suddenly opened with a chime, and the four of you turned to see Soonyoung making his way inside. His headphones were on, and he was bobbing his head to whatever song he was listening to. He paid little to no attention to any of you as he stopped to slip out of his clunky shoes and into his house slippers, eyes pinned to his phone as he stepped up.
“YOU!”
Soonyoung’s head jerked up, pulling his headphones off. “Huh?”
Flannel thief located. “I asked you if you’d seen it!”
“Seen what…?”
Jun leaned back in his chair enough to peer around Jihoon, “You’re wearing their flannel. It’s been missing for days.”
Soonyoung stood still for a moment, looking down at himself. The flannel still had one of your favorite pins attached to the breast pocket, a clear sign that this was your flannel he’d accidentally stolen. “... Isn’t this mine?”
Soonyoung: Exit pursued by four housemates yelling.
taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune @weird-bookworm
#j reads!#PLEEEEEASE this was so fun😭😭😭#“we could lose jihoon in there” is going down as one of my favourite lines in fic history. the way i cackled 😭😭😭😭#I live for stubborn -> shy jihoon. he makes my heart do something so stupid#I love how familiar they all are in this it rly felt#like sitting down in a room with three best friends and the fact that hosh just parades through the apartment at the end 😭#so so so funny. 10000/10 will read this again when I need a pick me up ;-; <3
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“vernon, we need to talk.”
your arms are crossed. your brows are furrowed. your lips are set in a dead straight line. you mean serious business.
he blinks at you, confused, but shifts so he’s sitting upright on the sofa. “okay,” vernon agrees, apprehensive. he pats the space next to him.
you take it, uncrossing your arms and looking him dead in the eye, so seriously that his mind short circuits for a second — he starts panicking internally, and that means he almost misses your next words;
“vernon, we need a cat.”
before he even fully registers your words and processes his relief, you’re begging. “i’m serious, okay! i know you’re busy and i can get busy sometimes, but i really — really — really think we should get a cat.”
“o—”
“from the rescue centre! you know, the one we visit all the time. pleeeease don’t say no.”
“i mean — ”
“and i need someone to keep me company when you’re away for tour and stuff too, you know.”
“is this… emotional blackmail?”
“no! i just think we’d be great parents! we can afford it! and we’d do a really good job, especially you, ‘cause you’re so awesome and handsome and cool a—”
“alright, okay, hold on.” he snorts, holding up a hand to stop you. “you don’t have to resort to flattery.”
“so… we can get the cat?” you gaze at him with pleading, rounded eyes, and he blinks.
“i literally don’t know how you got to that conclusion from what i said,” he says dryly.
your pout is instantaneous. “vernon!”
“baby!”
“please. please please please pleeeeaase.”
his smile is borderlining a smirk by now, as he pinches your cheeks. “you’re so cute.”
“i’m not cute. i’m desperate.”
“you’re still cute.”
“usually i’d say thank you, but right now i don’t care. can we get the cat?”
vernon chuckles, looping arm around you. “of course we can get the cat. you didn’t even have to beg, you know. i was sold the moment you said it.”
your delighted beam, he notices quickly, is turning more and more sheepish as you slip out from under his arm, sidling over to a cardboard box he hadn’t even noticed before.
“so, uh… about that cat,” you begin.
“baby.”
“yes?”
“what’s in the box?”
you glance between him and the box. “what box? this box? oh! haha. nothing. nothing crazy. ha.”
“it wouldn’t happen to be… i don’t know, a cat?”
“whaaat?” you scoff at him, waving a hand disbelievingly. “a cat? a cat! pshh. what a craazy thought. imagine that.”
the silence that follows is broken by one very small, very quiet meow.
“okay, okay!” you throw your hands up guiltily. “i’m sorry, she was just looking at me with those big big eyes and i couldn’t just say no, could i?”
far from being mad, or even surprised, vernon is just entertained. “and what if i had said no?”
“i would’ve cried. do you want that on your conscience?”
“never.” he stands, opening his hands to you with a boyish smile. “now. hand me my child.”
an / thought of this idea after many many cat pics (thank you sammy perla is the love of my life). and then i sat and wrote it out in 15 mins. (could alternatively be used as a very accurate depiction of me begging my mother for a cat, except i’ve been doing that for over a decade and she only says no.)
#j reads!#vernon rec!#hana!#moots!#YESSSS#cat dad vernon is very deeply personal to me. I love him and i WANT ONE#this was so cute i did not stop smiling from start to finish wtf#did you lace this with actual sugar or something 😭😭😭😭😭#please ive never read anything sweeter in my LIFE#ughhhhhh your mind. your m i n d. you’re so good and I will be deluluing abt cat dad vernie for the rest of the day🥹🫶#1000000/10
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I am here to request some silly, sweet Channie fluff 🥺🥺 as mild or spicy as you want, idm, just want some deep comfort feat. my favourite fun-sized snack 🥰🥰
the one with chan and the promotion
pairing: bang chan x gn!reader
type: drabble | genre: fluff, hurt/comfort
au: fuck buddies to ?, pining
rating: 18+
wc: 2.2k (don’t look at me)
summary: you need a ride home after getting your wisdom teeth removed. chan just so happens to be free.
cw: chan’s pov, no smut but it’s referenced, reader has outpatient dental surgery (not depicted), reference to blood/swelling, reader is doped the hell up.
🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.
You’re drifting off in some twilight on the other side of a closed door, but Chan’s the one that’s stupefied.
Mechanically speaking, he knows how he got himself into this position: drove here in his car, parked in the lot outside, walked into the front door. His ass is in this very seat because he dropped himself there, and he hasn’t moved in the two hours that have passed since.
None of that explains why he’s in his current position, though — why you reached out to him, of all people, to come with you to something like this.
Why he’s more giddy over that choice than confused by it, even if it turns out that he was your last resort.
He’s lost in thought when your oral surgeon’s head peeks out through the doorway to the recovery room. She asks if he’s “the boyfriend”, and he has no idea how to explain that he’s more of a “semi-consistent fuck buddy”, so he simply says “yes” before allowing her to usher him into the room.
You’re slumped in a reclining chair when Chan walks in, heavy eyelids fluttering as you try hard to fight off sleep. Better still, the gauze in your mouth makes your chipmunk cheeks stick out while your still-numb lips fumble with words. The urge to reach for his phone and snap a picture makes his fingers twitch, but he doesn’t; you’d absolutely murder him if he tried.
“Mmfph?” You grunt when your narrowed eyes manage to clock him standing there.
He grins automatically, fingers reaching up to tip a hat he isn’t wearing. “Mmfph to you, too.”
Whatever drugs they gave you to knock you on your ass aren’t strong enough to overcome your personality; you roll your eyes much more easily than you keep them fully open. That trademark sass must’ve taken a lot out of you, though. You doze off again before he can blink, slumping further in your chair with your head lolled uncomfortably to the side.
Your neck is going to hurt later, he thinks with a frown.
“Once they get their sea legs back, you should be okay to go.”
Chan jumps when the surgeon pipes up, having completely forgotten anyone else was in the room.
She clears her throat sheepishly, clearly aware that she’s interrupting something. Breezing right past that awkwardness, she pulls a prescription pad from her coat pocket. The top page is promptly ripped off and passed to him with a stern look.
She warns, “Make sure they don’t take this medication on an empty stomach.”
Damn — only two hours in, and he’s already being promoted from chauffeur to caretaker? It should embarrass him that this fact tickles him thoroughly pink, but it doesn’t. Inwardly, he high-fives himself.
Nice one, Chan!
“Soup is best,” the surgeon continues, once again pulling him out of his own head. There’s a pause before she remembers the kicker; she waves her hand urgently when she finally does. “Nothing spicy, though.”
He nods in understanding, and just like that, she pats his shoulder and disappears out the door. Unsure what else to do, Chan takes a seat on the small stool next to your chair and waits.
And wait, and waits, and waits.
Jesus. What did they give you — a horse tranquilizer?
When your eyes open the second time, they find him immediately. They’re still a bit glassy, but they’re much more alert. Bright, even, which is a bit of a wonder, given the circumstances. Right away, he can tell that the space cadet has — sort of — returned to Earth.
“Can —?” You gesture to your mouth, which struggles to frown around the gauze.
Uselessly, you flick out your tongue in an attempt to wet your lips. They're dry from all the time you must’ve spent with your mouth open, and his fingers twitch again when he pictures the chapstick in his pocket.
You distract him with what he assumes are words, prompting him to shift his gaze from your mouth to your eyes.
Everything that comes next is garbled, totally incoherent, but he gets the gist. With a quick glance at his watch, he confirms that it’s been thirty minutes since he started watching you sleep, and that feels like enough time.
Right?
So, he shrugs permissively; you perk up the second you’re given the green light. Bravely, you only whine a little bit when you lay eyes on the slightly bloody, thoroughly spit-soaked material as you pull it away from your gums.
Chan can’t tell if you’re trying to pout when you hold that mess out to him and stare expectantly, but the intent doesn’t matter much in the long run; the effect is the same. He takes your drooled-on trash without a second thought.
Squinting as he concentrates, he fires it off towards the bin in the corner like he’s trying to beat a buzzer. The pair of you watch as it ricochets off the wall, then drops perfectly in the basket below.
Immediately, he turns back to you with wiggling eyebrows and a smirk. “Bank shot,” he brags.
You ignore the true purpose of his raised hand — a well-deserved high-five — and instead latch onto it. Gripping tightly as if your life depends on it, you drag yourself up and out of your chair.
Before you can throw yourself entirely off balance, Chan swoops in to tuck you under his arm. You’re independent to a fault, however; and you glare up at him exactly like he guessed you would. Apologetic, he keeps his distance with his hands raised.
Go for it, then.
All it takes for you to accept defeat is a few wobbly steps toward the door and some curse words muttered under your breath, for zest. You give in faster than you want to and dive into his side with a long-suffering groan. You’re not looking, so he doesn't bother to hide the triumphant smirk that spreads when your arms wrap around his waist.
The walk back to his car takes a lot more effort than he initially expected. Though you cling to him like you’ll float off without him, you insist on attempting to wander in every direction except the one you need to head in. To the best of his ability, Chan steers you across the pavement; you babble through every stumbled step.
“I’m going to open your door now, okay?” He coos once you finally reach his car.
It surprises him slightly — the softness he’s exuding, and how much like a reflex it feels — but he doesn’t dwell on it. He’s got a far more difficult puzzle to solve: getting your wriggling body into his car.
After a few unsuccessful tries, you finally let him usher you out of the way of the door. You spill into his passenger seat like you’re more jelly than bones, knocking your skull against the doorframe as you go.
Jesus Christ.
Eyes wide, Chan ducks down to run his fingers gingerly over what will likely be a goose egg tomorrow. Nervously, he chuckles, “That — uhh — that was quite the entrance. You okay?”
Tilting your chin just so, you push your cheek into his palm and blink up at him slowly like you’ve already forgotten the question. Suddenly, so has he. Several moments whizz by just like that — with his arm raised uncomfortably and your heavy head resting against his hand.
Never in his life has he wanted to kiss a forehead as badly as he does yours. It’s like you’ve got a magnet where your orbital bone should be, and it’s a bit shocking. Whatever magic you’ve got — some sort of tractor beam in your eyes, perhaps — pulls, pulls, pulls, but he stops himself.
That’s not what this is, he reminds himself as he backs away and shuts your door carefully in his place. That’s not who I am to you.
In this moment, Chan is your taxi driver, carting you off to the apartment he’s been in a hundred times — but never once in the daytime.
As he goes, it becomes a little clearer with every kilometer: the sun can’t be beating down overhead because he feels it next to him, warming his arm through his jacket; blinding him whenever his gaze drifts over to the passenger side.
“Chan,” you pout out of nowhere.
Again, your head droops fast and bumps his shoulder. You don’t react to this second knock, but he does, sucking air in through his teeth.
“Need to get you a helmet,” he mutters with a sheepish laugh. “You’re gonna give yourself a concussion at this rate.”
“Don’t need a helmet,” you argue. “I need pork belly, bad. Stop, please?”
Glancing quickly down at you, Chan bites back a smile. You look so adorably pitiful with your hazy eyes blinking one at a time, lips all puffy to match your cheeks. It takes all he’s got to tear his eyes off you and put them back on the road ahead.
He sighs, genuinely sorry. “No can do, champ.”
You repeat the nickname, pop the last letter, and make yourself laugh so hard that you hiccup.
“Your options currently are soup or… well, soup.” He tries to sound firm, but if you pout at him a second time, Chan might throw your dentist’s warning right out the window. “Think it over while I stop at the pharmacy, yeah?”
In the quiet that follows, he swears he can hear the gears turning in your head. He doubts it has anything to do with what he just told you, but he doesn’t mind. Come to think of it, he doesn’t mind any of what this day has turned out to be so far. That doesn’t necessarily surprise him, either.
With the way things currently are between you, you don’t feature much in his everyday life; only weekends and the occasional weeknight. It works well, this thing you’ve got going. He enjoys what you do — that head game of yours is otherworldly — but judging by the glimpses he’s seen so far, he likes who you are, too.
Despite not knowing you on some deeper level, shit like this — being around you for some profoundly asexual purpose — feels natural. Like he could do it more often; be a little more than just a recurring character. If you let him, that is.
Would you let him?
That question rattles around his brain when he pulls up to the pharmacy and dashes inside, too wary to leave you alone for long but wholly unprepared to guide you through a shop in your current state. He’s still thinking about it when he jogs back to his car with your prescription in hand.
That bag is nearly dropped to the pavement below when he sees you, however; and he can’t remember what he was thinking about before because you’re weeping now. In a flash, Chan throws himself into his seat and jerks the door shut behind him, metal groaning in the process.
“What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t mean to sound so forceful, but he can feel his pulse in his ears. On instinct, he reaches out and places gentle hands on your temples. Eyes scanning for any sign of injury, he tries to bury his urgency in a soothing voice. “Hey — talk to me. Are you okay?”
You blink up at him with wide, wet eyes. Oh, fuck, you’re breaking my heart. His stomach drops at the sight of your lower lip trembling, but then you whimper:
“What if worms don’t have best friends?”
And Chan needs a minute because he can’t believe you’re real, that you’re borderline bereft over worms, or that he’s this fucking enamored.
Before he knows it, he starts giggling so hard that his eyes start to swim. Thankfully, it’s with mirth and not utter devastation like yours. Pinching his bottom lip between his teeth, he wipes a tear off your cheek with the side of his thumb. Just as gently, he tries his best to reassure you, “I’m sure they do.”
“You’re sure?” You repeat with a sniffle. Chan nods; he’s never been more so.
Successfully placated, you fall into thoughtful silence next to him. It doesn’t last long, though. Abruptly, you and your goldfish memory change course: “Can we get pork belly?”
Something in him wants to give you the world in this moment — the moon on a string, or whatever — but he shakes his head, unwilling to budge. But then your face falls, and he blurts out, “When you’re better, I’ll take you out for some.”
And he means it.
You peep, “Maybe next week.”
Chan laughs while he puts the key in the ignition and turns it. Maybe, he thinks, if you remember having this conversation. As the engine roars back to life, a new thought bubbles to the surface in his mind:
Maybe you will remember.
If you do — and if he’s brave enough then — maybe he’ll confess that he’s a liar. He might own up to the fact that, when you called to ask for his help, he didn’t already have the day off like he claimed to; or that the sick time he rushed to claim in the aftermath wasn’t attributable to his health at all.
Maybe he’ll admit that he doesn’t care how many people you asked before you turned to him because you ultimately did.
Just maybe.
As he backs out of his parking space, Chan casts another glance your way. It takes all the effort in the world for you to do it, but you smile at him with your whole damn face.
That settles it, then.
He nods once — firmly — and corrects you, “Definitely next week.”
#j reads!#other rec!#JADE😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 WHAT#oh my god OHHHHH MY GOD#I don’t even go here. I’ve listened to like 10 stray kids songs in my life.#but I saw the summary and went SURE OK why NOT and im so glad I did holy smokes#WHY WAS THIS SO CUTE IM LITERALLY SQUEALING RN. writhing around like a worm. im GIDDY????#I WANT ONE OF HIM. IMMEDIATELY. PLEASE AND THANK YOU😵💫🫠#I love the way you write. so much. good LORD im gonna be thinking about this for like. weeks😭#so so so so so cute & so funny UGH I need to go lie face down on the pavement right this second#queue minus one.<3
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